Datasets:

pclucas14

/

narrative_qa_rag_128_19_30

like 0

[ [ "\t\tJerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's, that's, I'm not go\n\t\tinta, inta - see, I just need\n\t\tmoney. Now, her dad's real\n\t\twealthy -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tSo why don't you just ask him\n\t\tfor the money?\n\n\tGrimsrud, the dour man who has not yet spoken, now softly\n\tputs in with a Swedish-accented voice:\n", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "we need more\n\t\tmoney.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThe heck d'ya mean? What a you\n\t\tguys got yourself mixed up in?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWe need more -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThis was s'posed to be a no-rough\n\t\t-stuff-type deal -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tDON'T EVER INTERRUPT ME, JERRY!\n\t\tJUST SHUT", "JERRY\n\t\tWade, have ya had a chance to\n\t\tthink about, uh, that deal I was\n\t\ttalkin' about, those forty acres\n\t\tthere on Wayzata?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYou told me about it.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, you said you'd have a think\n\t\tabout it. I understand it's a\n\t\tlot of money -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tA heck of a lot. What", "t need a finder's\n\t\tfee, I need - finder's fee's, what,\n\t\tten percent, heck that's not gonna\n\t\tdo it for me. I need the principal.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry, we're not just going to\n\t\tgive you seven hundred and fifty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck were you thinkin'?\n\t\tHeck, if I'm only gettin' bank", "'re not a bank, Jerry.\n\n\tWade is angry.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck, Jerry, if I wanted\n\t\tbank interest on seven hunnert'n\n\t\tfifty thousand I'd go to Midwest\n\t\tFederal. Talk to Bill Diehl.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tHe's at Norstar.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHe's at -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, see, I don'", "Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, I'm through\n\t\tfucking around. You got the\n\t\tfucking money?\n\n\tJERRY'S KITCHEN\n\n\tJerry is at the kitchen phone. Through the door to the\n\tdining room we see Wade picking up an extension.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, I got the money, but, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tDon't you", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "\tWADE\n\t\tAll the more reason! I don't want\n\t\tyou - with all due respect, Jerry\n\t\t- I don't want you mucking this up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThe heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tThey want my money, they can deal\n\t\twith me. Otherwise I'm goin' to\n\t\ta professional.\n\n\tHe points at a briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t... There", "\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tMy patience is at an end.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tGood day, sir.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah.\n\n\tWIDE ON THE CUBICLE\n\n\tWe are looking at Jerry's cubicle from across the showroom.\n\tNoise muted by distance, we watch Jerry slam down the\n\trec", "\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... My fee? Wade, what the\n\t\theck're you talkin' about?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan and I're okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe're good to loan in.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tBut we never talked about your\n\t\tfee for bringin'", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "\t\tjust read them to me -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut the deal's already done, I\n\t\talready got the money -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, but we have an audit here,\n\t\tI just have to know that these\n\t\tvehicles you're financing with\n\t\tthis money, that they really\n\t\texist.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, well, they exist all right.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tI'm", "it to us.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, but, Wade, see, I was\n\t\tbringin' you this deal for you\n\t\tto loan me the money to put\n\t\tin. It's my deal here, see?\n\n\tWade scowls, looks at Stan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry - we thought you were\n\t\tbringin' us an investment.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, right -\n\n\t\t\t", "ar!\n\n\tJerry sits staring at his lap.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\t... A fucking liar -\n\n\t\t\t\tWIFE\n\t\tBucky, please!\n\n\tJerry mumbles into his lap:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOne hunnert's the best we can\n\t\tdo here.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOh, for Christ's sake, where's my\n\t\tgoddamn checkbook. Let's", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "was everything today?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good now.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tSnow continues to fall. Jerry and Stan stand bundled in\n\ttheir parkas and galoshes near a row of beached vehicles.\n\tWade sits behind the wheel of an idling Lincoln, waiting for\n\tStan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tOkay. We'll get the money together.\n\t\tDon't worry about it, Jerry. Now,\n\t\td", "\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, it's pretty darned busy here,\n\t\tbut that's the way we like it.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThat's for sure. Now, I just\n\t\tneed, on these last, these financing\n\t\tdocuments you sent us, I can't\n\t\tread the serial numbers of the\n\t\tvehicles on here, so I -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut I already got the, it's okay,\n\t\tthe loans", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli" ], [ "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "ROAD\n\n\tCarl leans down to hoist up the body.\n\n\tHeadlights appear: an oncoming car.\n\n\tINT. CIERA\n\n\tGrimsrud notices.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe car approaches, slowing.\n\n\tCarl, with the trooper's body hoisted halfway up, is frozen\n\tin the headlights.\n\n\tThe car accelerates and roars past and away. We just make\n\tout the silhouettes of two occupants in front.\n\n\t", ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", ", up on the shoulder, jerks his thumb.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tBack there a good piece. In\n\t\tthe ditch next to his prowler.\n\n\tMarge looks around at the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOkay, so we got a state trooper\n\t\tpulls someone over, we got a\n\t\tshooting, and these folks drive\n\t\tby, and we got a high-speed\n\t\tpursuit, ends here, and this\n\t\texecution-type deal", "\n\n\tThe headlights sweep off and a car hums past and on into the\n\tbackground. The two-lane highway is otherwise empty.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl drives. Grimsrud smokes and gazes out the window.\n\tFrom the back seat we hear whimpering.\n\n\tGrimsrud turns to look.\n\n\tJean lies bound and curled on the back seat underneath a\n\ttarpaulin.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut the fuck up or I'll", "having failed to hold a turn.\n\n\tGrimsrud brakes.\n\n\tJean slides off the back seat and thumps into the legwell.\n\n\tGrimsrud sweeps his gun off the front seat, throws open his\n\tdoor and gets out.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe wrecked car's headlights shine off into a snowfield\n\tabutting the highway. A young man in a down parka is\n\tlimping across the snowfield, away from the wrecked car.\n\n\tGrimsrud strides", "calmly out after the injured boy. He\n\traises his gun and fires.\n\n\tWith a poof of feathers, a hole opens up in the boy's back\n\tand he pitches into the snow.\n\n\tGrimsrud walks up to the wreck and peers in its half-open\n\tdoor.\n\n\tA young woman is trapped inside the twisted wreckage,\n\tinjured.\n\n\tSnow swirls in the headlights of the wreck.\n\n\tGrimsrud raises his gun and fires.\n\n\tAN OIL", "trunk, slams it shut and walks back to the scene of the\n\tshooting.\n\n\tHe kicks at the snow with his galoshed feet, trying to hide\n\tthe fresh bloodstains.\n\n\tEXIT BOOTH\n\n\tJerry approaches in the Cadillac.\n\n\tThe wooden gate barring the exit has been broken away. The\n\tbooth is empty.\n\n\tJerry eases toward the street, looking over at the booth as\n\the passes.\n\n\tInside the booth we see the awkwardly angled leg of", "oper's head.\n\n\tJean screams.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut up.\n\n\tHe releases the policeman.\n\n\tThe policeman's head slides out the window and his body\n\tflops back onto the street.\n\n\tCarl looks out at the cop in the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\t(softly)\n\t\tWhoa... Whoa, Daddy.\n\n\tGrimsrud takes the trooper's hat off of Carl's lap", "\tgets out and walks slowly to Wade's body, prostrate in the\n\tswirling snow.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh! Oh, geez!\n\n\tHe bends down, picks Wade up by the armpits and drags him\n\tover to the back of the Cadillac. He drops Wade's body,\n\twalks to the driver's side of the car, pulls the keys and\n\twalks back to pop the trunk. He wrestles Wade's body into\n\tthe", "out of Grimsrud's grasp and\n\tlurches away across the front lawn. Grimsrud moves to\n\tretrieve her but Carl, grinning, lays a hand on his\n\tshoulder.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tHold it.\n\n\tThey both look out at the front lawn, Grimsrud\n\texpressionless, Carl smiling.\n\n\tWith muffled cries, the hooded woman lurches across the\n\tunbroken snow, staggering this way and that, stumbling on\n\tthe uneven terrain.\n", "'s drinkin', so I\n\t\tdon't think a whole great deal of\n\t\tit, but Mrs. Mohra heard about the\n\t\thomicides out here and she thought\n\t\tI should call it in, so I called\n\t\tit in. End a story.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tWhat'd this guy look like anyways?\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tOh, he was a little guy, kinda\n\t\tfunny-lookin'.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tUh", "\this skin by clotted blood.\n\n\tHe pulls very gently and winces as blood starts to flow\n\tagain.\n\n\tHe carefully tears the rag in half so that only a bit of it\n\tremains adhering to his jaw.\n\n\tEXT. CAR\n\n\tIt is pulled over to the side of an untraveled road. THe\n\tdoor opens and Carl emerges with the briefcase.\n\n\tHe slogs through the snow, down a gulley and up the\n\tembankment to a barbed-wire fence. ", "'s the best we can do here.\n\n\tEXT. CABIN\n\n\tIt is a lakeside cabin surrounded by white. A brown Ciera\n\twith dealer plates is pulling into the drive.\n\n\tGrimsrud climbs out of the passenger seat as Carl climbs out\n\tof the driver's. Grimsrud opens the back door and, with an\n\tarm on her elbow, helps Jean out. She has her hands tied\n\tbehind her and a black hood over her head.\n\n\tWith a cry, she swings her elbow", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "IDE\n\n\tWe are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him\n\twe see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the\n\tsound.\n\n\tGrimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's\n\tcap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.\n\n\tCarl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.\n\n\tGrimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.\n\n\tMARGE\n\n\tIn her cruiser", "on her chin, is motionless.\n\tThere is blood on the facing wall.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShe started shrieking, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tJezhush.\n\n\tHe shakes his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Well, I gotta muddy.\n\n\tHe is plunking down eight bank-wrapped bundles on the table.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... All of it. All", "\n\tShe stops, stands still, her hooded head swaying.\n\n\tShe lurches out in an arbitrary direction. Going downhill,\n\tshe reels, staggers, and falls face-first into the snow,\n\tweeping.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tHa ha ha ha ha ha! Jesus!\n\n\tGrimsrud, still expressionless, breaks away from Carl's\n\trestraining hand to retrieve her.\n\n\tBRAINERD POLICE HEADQUARTERS\n\n\tWe track behind", "looks pretty bad. Two\n\t\tof'm're over here.\n\n\tMarge looks around as they start walking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWhere is everybody?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tWell - it's cold, Margie.\n\n\tBY THE WRECK\n\n\tLaid out in the early morning light is the wrecked car, a\n\tpair of footprints leading out to a man in a bright orange\n\tparka face down in the bloodstained snow, and one pair of\n\tfootsteps", "ide.\n\n\tIn the back seat, Jean starts screaming.\n\n\tGrimsrud is not gaining on the tail lights.\n\n\tHe fights with the wheel as his car swims on the road face.\n\n\tThe red tail lights ahead start to turn. With a distant\n\tcrunching sound, they disappear.\n\n\tThe headlights now show only empty road, starting to turn.\n\n\tGrimsrud frowns and slows.\n\n\tHis headlights show the car up ahead off the road, crumpled\n\taround a telephone pole," ], [ "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "\n\t\tNaw, I... Executive Sales Manager.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, you can help me. My name's\n\t\tMarge Gunderson -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tMy father-in-law, he's the owner.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh-huh. Well, I'm a police officer\n\t\tfrom up Brainerd investigating some\n\t\tmalfeasance and I was just wondering\n\t\tif you've", "\n\n\tMarge sights again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires again.\n\n\tGrimsrud pitches forward. He mutters in Swedish as he\n\treaches down to clutch at his wounded leg.\n\n\tMarge walks toward him, gun trained on him as her other hand\n\treaches under her parka and gropes around her waist.\n\n\tIt comes out with a pair of handcuffs, which she opens with\n\ta snap of the wrist.\n\n\t\t\t", ", ya think?\n\n\tLOBBY CORNER\n\n\tMarge is on a public phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Detective Sibert? Yah, this\n\t\tis Marge Gunderson from up Brainerd,\n\t\twe spoke - Yah. Well, actually\n\t\tI'm in town here. I had to do a\n\t\tfew things in the Twin Cities, so\n\t\tI thought I'd check in with ya about\n\t\tthat USIF search", "\n\tknees down near the snow.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYa see something down there, Chief?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh - I just, I think I'm gonna barf.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tGeez, you okay, Margie?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI'm fine - it's just morning\n\t\tsickness.\n\n\tShe gets up, sweeping snow from her knees.\n\n\t\t\t\tM", "arge bellows again:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Hands up!\n\n\tConscious of the noise, she shows with a twist of her\n\tshoulder the armpatch insignia.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Police!\n\n\tGrimsrud stares.\n\n\tWith a quick twist, he reaches back for the log, hurls it at\n\tMarge and then starts running away.\n\n\tMarge twists her body sideways, shielding herself.\n\n\tNo need -", "Marge as she makes her way across the floor,\n\tgreeting various officers. She holds a small half-full\n\tpaper sack.\n\n\tBeyond her we see a small glassed-in cublcle. Norm sits at\n\tthe desk inside with a box lunch spread out in front of him.\n\tThere is lettering on the cubicle's glass door: BRAINERD\n\tPD. CHIEF GUNDERSON.\n\n\tMarge enters and sits behind the desk, detaching her walkie-\n\ttalkie from her", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSorry - didn't copy.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tStill missing. We're looking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tCopy. And Lundegaard too.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah. Where are ya, Margie?\n\n\tWe hear, distant but growing louder, harsh engine noise, as\n\tof a chainsaw or lawnmower.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, I'", ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", "that was Mrs. Lundegaard\n\t\tin there?\n\n\tShe glances up in the rear-view mirror.\n\n\tGrimsrud, cheeks sunk, eyes hollow, looks sourly out at the\n\troad.\n\n\tMarge shakes her head.\n\n\tAt length:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... I guess that was your\n\t\taccomplice in the wood chipper.\n\n\tGrimsrud's head bobs with bumps on the road; otherwise he is\n\tmotionless", "her siren.\n\n\tShe turns on her flashers.\n\n\tShe leans back with a creak and jangle of utilities.\n\n\tShe stares forward, shakes her head. We hear the dull click\n\tof her flashers.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... I just don't unnerstand it.\n\n\tOutside it is snowing. The sky, the earth, the road - all\n\twhite.\n\n\tA squad car, gumballs spinning, punches through the white.\n", "the heavy log travels perhaps ten yards and lands\n\tin the snow several feet short of her.\n\n\tGrimsrud pants up the hill - slow going through the deep\n\tsnow.\n\n\tBehind him:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires in the air.\n\n\tShe lowers the gun and carefully sighs.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires.\n\n\tGrimsrud still slogs up the hill - a miss.", "\n\tShe stops, stands still, her hooded head swaying.\n\n\tShe lurches out in an arbitrary direction. Going downhill,\n\tshe reels, staggers, and falls face-first into the snow,\n\tweeping.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tHa ha ha ha ha ha! Jesus!\n\n\tGrimsrud, still expressionless, breaks away from Carl's\n\trestraining hand to retrieve her.\n\n\tBRAINERD POLICE HEADQUARTERS\n\n\tWe track behind", "ICE DEPARTMENT. She wears\n\ta heavy belt holding a revolver, walkie-talkie and various\n\tother jangling police impedimenta. Norm is in a dressing\n\tgown.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThanks, hon. Time to shove off.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tLove ya, Margie.\n\n\tAs she struggles into a parka:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tLove ya, hon.\n\n\tHe is exiting back to the bedroom;", "m cooperating... There's no, uh\n\t\t- we're doin' all we can...\n\n\tHe trails off into silence.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSir, could I talk to Mr. Gustafson?\n\n\tJerry stares at her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\tJerry explodes:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, heck, if you wanna, if you\n\t\twanna play games", "\tDon't go in! Wait for back-up!\n\n\tMarge is straining to look. The power-tool noise is louder\n\there but still muffled, its source not yet visible.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\t... Chief Gunderson?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tCopy. Yah, send me back-up!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYes, ma'am. Are we the closest PD?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah", "Marge sticks her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard? Sorry to bother\n\t\tyou again. Can I come in?\n\n\tShe starts to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, no, I'm kinda - I'm kinda\n\t\tbusy -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI unnerstand. I'll keep it real\n\t\tshort, then. I'm on my way out\n\t\tof town", ".\n\n\tShe glances up in the rear-view mirror.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Don't you know that?... And\n\t\there ya are, and it's a beautiful\n\t\tday...\n\n\tGrimsrud's hollow eyes stare out.\n\n\tThe sirens are getting louder. Marge pulls over.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Well...\n\n\tShe leans forward to the dash to give two short signalling\n\tWHOOPS on", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "With a grunt he bends\n\tdown out of frame and then re-enters holding a thick log.\n\tHe uses it to force the leg deeper into the machine.\n\n\tMarge is advancing. She holds a gun extended toward\n\tGrimsrud, who is still turned away.\n\n\tGrimsrud rubs his nose with the back of his hand.\n\n\tMarge closes in, grimacing.\n\n\tGrimsrud's back strains as he puts his weight into the log\n\tthat pushes down into the machine.\n" ], [ ". It's\n\t\tall worked out.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou want your own wife kidnapped?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tCarl Stares. Jerry looks blankly back.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You - my point is, you pay\n\t\tthe ransom - what eighty thousand\n\t\tbucks? - I mean, you give us\n\t\thalf the ransom, forty thousand,\n\t\tyou keep half", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "dollars is a lot a damn\n\t\tmoney! And there they are, they\n\t\tgot my daughter!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but think this thing through\n\t\there, Wade. Ya give 'em what they\n\t\twant, why wont' they let her go?\n\t\tYou gotta listen to me on this one,\n\t\tWade.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHeck, you don't know! You're just\n\t\twhistlin' Dixie", "\t\tJerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's, that's, I'm not go\n\t\tinta, inta - see, I just need\n\t\tmoney. Now, her dad's real\n\t\twealthy -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tSo why don't you just ask him\n\t\tfor the money?\n\n\tGrimsrud, the dour man who has not yet spoken, now softly\n\tputs in with a Swedish-accented voice:\n", "Tie here. Big\n\t\tfucking man.\n\n\tHe is peeling off one dollar bills.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You know, these are the limits\n\t\tof your life, man. Ruler of your\n\t\tlittle fucking gate here. There's\n\t\tyour four dollars. You pathetic\n\t\tpiece of shit.\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE\n\n\tJerry is staring up, mouth agape, at the underside of a car\n\ton", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", " Stan Grossman.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t2:30.\n\n\tClick. Dial tone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay.\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLD GARAGE\n\n\tJerry wanders through the service area where cars are being\n\tworked on. He stops by an Indian in blue jeans who is\n\tlooking at the underside of a car that sits on a hydraulic\n\t", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "'re they doing? Wuddya\n\t\tthink they're doin' with Mom?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tIt's okay, Scotty. They're not\n\t\tgonna want to hurt her any.\n\t\tThese men, they just want money,\n\t\tsee.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT\n\t\tWhat if - what if sumpn goes wrong?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, no, nothin's goin' wrong here.\n\t\tGr", ". It's like robbing\n\t\tPeter to play Paul, it doesn't\n\t\tmake any -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay, it's - see, it's not me\n\t\tpayin' the ransom. The thing is,\n\t\tmy wife, she's wealthy - her dad,\n\t\the's real well off. Now, I'm in\n\t\ta bit of trouble -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWhat kind of trouble are you in,\n", "m cooperating... There's no, uh\n\t\t- we're doin' all we can...\n\n\tHe trails off into silence.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSir, could I talk to Mr. Gustafson?\n\n\tJerry stares at her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\tJerry explodes:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, heck, if you wanna, if you\n\t\twanna play games", "THE FUCK UP!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, I'm sorry, but I just - I -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tLook. I'm not gonna debate you,\n\t\tJerry. The price is now the whole\n\t\tamount. We want the entire eighty\n\t\tthousand.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, for Chrissakes here -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tBlood has been shed. We'", "Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, I'm through\n\t\tfucking around. You got the\n\t\tfucking money?\n\n\tJERRY'S KITCHEN\n\n\tJerry is at the kitchen phone. Through the door to the\n\tdining room we see Wade picking up an extension.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, I got the money, but, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tDon't you", "LE\n\n\tHe sits in and picks up his phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJerry Lundegaard.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, you got this\n\t\tphone to yourself?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell ... yah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tKnow who this is?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, yah, I got an idea. How's\n\t\tthat Ciera workin' out", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "ERSON\n\t\tI'm, uh, Jerry Lundegaard -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYou're Jerry Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, Shep Proudfoot said -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tShep said you'd be here at 7:30.\n\t\tWhat gives, man?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tShep said 8:30.\n\n\t\t\t", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "\tWell... Why don't we...\n\n\tHe saws a finger under his nose.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t... Stan, I'm thinkin' we should\n\t\toffer 'em half a million.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNow come on here, no way, Wade!\n\t\tNo way!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWe're not horse-trading here, Wade,\n\t\twe just gotta bite the bullet on\n\t\tthis thing.\n\n\t", ", real good.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tDad's here.\n\n\tDEN\n\n\tJerry enters, pulling off his plaid cap.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin', Wade?\n\n\tWade Gustafson is mid-sixtyish, vigorous, with a full head\n\tof gray hair. His eyes remain fixed on the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYah, pretty good.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWh", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And" ], [ "calmly out after the injured boy. He\n\traises his gun and fires.\n\n\tWith a poof of feathers, a hole opens up in the boy's back\n\tand he pitches into the snow.\n\n\tGrimsrud walks up to the wreck and peers in its half-open\n\tdoor.\n\n\tA young woman is trapped inside the twisted wreckage,\n\tinjured.\n\n\tSnow swirls in the headlights of the wreck.\n\n\tGrimsrud raises his gun and fires.\n\n\tAN OIL", "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "aked by the shower curtain\n\tbut awkwardly trying to push it off.\n\n\tUPSTAIRS LANDING\n\n\tStill thrashing, Jean crashes against the upstairs railing,\n\ttrips on the curtain and falls, thumping crazily down the\n\tstairs.\n\n\tGrimsrud trots down after her.\n\n\tA PLAQUE: WADE GUSTAFSON INCORPORTATED\n\n\tINT. WADE'S OFFICE\n\n\tWade sits behind his desk; another man rises as Jerry\n", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "having failed to hold a turn.\n\n\tGrimsrud brakes.\n\n\tJean slides off the back seat and thumps into the legwell.\n\n\tGrimsrud sweeps his gun off the front seat, throws open his\n\tdoor and gets out.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe wrecked car's headlights shine off into a snowfield\n\tabutting the highway. A young man in a down parka is\n\tlimping across the snowfield, away from the wrecked car.\n\n\tGrimsrud strides", "With a grunt he bends\n\tdown out of frame and then re-enters holding a thick log.\n\tHe uses it to force the leg deeper into the machine.\n\n\tMarge is advancing. She holds a gun extended toward\n\tGrimsrud, who is still turned away.\n\n\tGrimsrud rubs his nose with the back of his hand.\n\n\tMarge closes in, grimacing.\n\n\tGrimsrud's back strains as he puts his weight into the log\n\tthat pushes down into the machine.\n", "IDE\n\n\tWe are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him\n\twe see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the\n\tsound.\n\n\tGrimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's\n\tcap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.\n\n\tCarl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.\n\n\tGrimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.\n\n\tMARGE\n\n\tIn her cruiser", "\n\n\tMarge sights again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires again.\n\n\tGrimsrud pitches forward. He mutters in Swedish as he\n\treaches down to clutch at his wounded leg.\n\n\tMarge walks toward him, gun trained on him as her other hand\n\treaches under her parka and gropes around her waist.\n\n\tIt comes out with a pair of handcuffs, which she opens with\n\ta snap of the wrist.\n\n\t\t\t", "trunk, slams it shut and walks back to the scene of the\n\tshooting.\n\n\tHe kicks at the snow with his galoshed feet, trying to hide\n\tthe fresh bloodstains.\n\n\tEXIT BOOTH\n\n\tJerry approaches in the Cadillac.\n\n\tThe wooden gate barring the exit has been broken away. The\n\tbooth is empty.\n\n\tJerry eases toward the street, looking over at the booth as\n\the passes.\n\n\tInside the booth we see the awkwardly angled leg of", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "oper's head.\n\n\tJean screams.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut up.\n\n\tHe releases the policeman.\n\n\tThe policeman's head slides out the window and his body\n\tflops back onto the street.\n\n\tCarl looks out at the cop in the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\t(softly)\n\t\tWhoa... Whoa, Daddy.\n\n\tGrimsrud takes the trooper's hat off of Carl's lap", "Tie here. Big\n\t\tfucking man.\n\n\tHe is peeling off one dollar bills.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You know, these are the limits\n\t\tof your life, man. Ruler of your\n\t\tlittle fucking gate here. There's\n\t\tyour four dollars. You pathetic\n\t\tpiece of shit.\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE\n\n\tJerry is staring up, mouth agape, at the underside of a car\n\ton", "on her chin, is motionless.\n\tThere is blood on the facing wall.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShe started shrieking, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tJezhush.\n\n\tHe shakes his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Well, I gotta muddy.\n\n\tHe is plunking down eight bank-wrapped bundles on the table.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... All of it. All", "his work, both hands pressing down a\n\tshod foot, as it if were the shaft of a butter churn.\n\n\tThe roar is very loud.\n\n\tMarge slogs down to the next tree, panting, looking.\n\n\tGrimsrud forces more of the leg into the machine, which we\n\tcan now see sprays small wet chunks out the bottom.\n\n\tMarge's eyes shift.\n\n\tA large dark form lies in the snow next to Grimsrud.\n\n\tGrimsrud works on, eyes watering. ", "tall man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted\n\tjacket and a hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a\n\tlarge power tool which his body blocks from view.\n\n\tMarge advances.\n\n\tThe man is forcing downward something which engages the\n\troaring power tool and makes harsh spluttering noises.\n\n\tThe man is Grimsrud, his nose red and eyes watering from the\n\tcold, hatflaps pulled down over his ears. His breath steams\n\tas he sourly goes about", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAnd this guy is...\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tLundegaard's father-in-law's\n\t\taccountant.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tGustafson's accountant.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tBut we still haven't found Gustafson.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\t\t(crackle)\n\t\t- looking.", "the heavy log travels perhaps ten yards and lands\n\tin the snow several feet short of her.\n\n\tGrimsrud pants up the hill - slow going through the deep\n\tsnow.\n\n\tBehind him:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires in the air.\n\n\tShe lowers the gun and carefully sighs.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires.\n\n\tGrimsrud still slogs up the hill - a miss.", "m cooperating... There's no, uh\n\t\t- we're doin' all we can...\n\n\tHe trails off into silence.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSir, could I talk to Mr. Gustafson?\n\n\tJerry stares at her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\tJerry explodes:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, heck, if you wanna, if you\n\t\twanna play games", "sound.\n\n\tThe policeman leans forward into the car, listening.\n\n\tGrimsrud reaches across Carl, grabs the trooper by the hair\n\tand slams his head down onto the car door.\n\n\tThe policeman grunts, digs awkwardly for footing outside and\n\tthrows an arm for balance against the outside of the car.\n\n\tWith his free hand, Grimsrud pops the glove compartment. He\n\tbrings a gun out and reaches across Carl and shoots - BANG -\n\tinto the back of the tro" ], [ "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", "on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair\n\twith the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we\n\thear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud\n\tstatic.\n\n\tWe track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette\n\tand expressionlessly gazing offscreen.\n\n\tWe track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old black-\n\tand-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl is\n\tbanging on it as he mutters:\n", "\n\n\tThe headlights sweep off and a car hums past and on into the\n\tbackground. The two-lane highway is otherwise empty.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl drives. Grimsrud smokes and gazes out the window.\n\tFrom the back seat we hear whimpering.\n\n\tGrimsrud turns to look.\n\n\tJean lies bound and curled on the back seat underneath a\n\ttarpaulin.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut the fuck up or I'll", "get this\n\t\tover with.\n\n\tWIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP\n\n\tThere is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and\n\ta motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox\n\tflanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.\n\n\tMOTEL ROOM\n\n\tCarl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds\n\thaving sex with two truck-stop hookers.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh,", "oper's head.\n\n\tJean screams.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut up.\n\n\tHe releases the policeman.\n\n\tThe policeman's head slides out the window and his body\n\tflops back onto the street.\n\n\tCarl looks out at the cop in the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\t(softly)\n\t\tWhoa... Whoa, Daddy.\n\n\tGrimsrud takes the trooper's hat off of Carl's lap", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "\t\tWADE\n\t\tJean and Scotty never have to\n\t\tworry.\n\n\tWHITE\n\n\tA black like curls through the white. Twisting perspective\n\tshows that it is an aerial shot of a two-lane highway,\n\tbordered by snowfields. The highway carries one moving car.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl Showalter is driving. Gaear Grimsrud stares blankly\n\tout.\n\n\tAfter a long beat:\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t", "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "Who's Jean?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tMy wife! What the - how's -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh, Jean's okay. But there's\n\t\tthree people up in Brainerd who\n\t\taren't so okay, I'll tell ya that.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck're you talkin' about?\n\t\tLet's just finish up this deal\n\t\there -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL", "and sails\n\tit out the open window.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tYou'll take care of it. Boy, you\n\t\tare smooth smooth, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWhoa, Daddy.\n\n\tJean, for some reason, screams again. Then stops.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tClear him off the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYeah.\n\n\tHe gets out.\n\n\tEXT.", "IDE\n\n\tWe are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him\n\twe see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the\n\tsound.\n\n\tGrimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's\n\tcap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.\n\n\tCarl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.\n\n\tGrimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.\n\n\tMARGE\n\n\tIn her cruiser", "\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...\n\n\tHe pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,\n\tflings it into his car, gets in, peels out.\n\n\tDOWN RAMP\n\n\tCarl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed\n\tand swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to\n\tthe top.\n\n\tINT. JERRY'S CAR\n\n\tJerry recovers from the", "\tWell... I'm goin' ta bed now.\n\n\tCARL'S CAR\n\n\tCarl mumbles as he drives, underlit by the dim dash lights,\n\tone hand now holding a piece of rag to his shredded jaw.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Fnnkn ashlzh... Fnk...\n\n\tROAD\n\n\tCarl's car roars into frame, violently swirling the snow.\n\tIts red tail lights fishtail away.\n\n\tFA", "ROAD\n\n\tCarl leans down to hoist up the body.\n\n\tHeadlights appear: an oncoming car.\n\n\tINT. CIERA\n\n\tGrimsrud notices.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe car approaches, slowing.\n\n\tCarl, with the trooper's body hoisted halfway up, is frozen\n\tin the headlights.\n\n\tThe car accelerates and roars past and away. We just make\n\tout the silhouettes of two occupants in front.\n\n\t", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "'s the best we can do here.\n\n\tEXT. CABIN\n\n\tIt is a lakeside cabin surrounded by white. A brown Ciera\n\twith dealer plates is pulling into the drive.\n\n\tGrimsrud climbs out of the passenger seat as Carl climbs out\n\tof the driver's. Grimsrud opens the back door and, with an\n\tarm on her elbow, helps Jean out. She has her hands tied\n\tbehind her and a black hood over her head.\n\n\tWith a cry, she swings her elbow", "\t\tOh, for Christ ... oh, geez...\n\n\tWade brings out his gun and fires at Carl's head, close by.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh!\n\n\tCarl stumbles and falls back, and then stands up again. His\n\tjaw is gouting blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Owwmm...\n\n\tOne hand pressed to his jaw, he fires down at Wade several\n\ttimes. Blood streams through the hand pressed to his jaw.\n\n", "having failed to hold a turn.\n\n\tGrimsrud brakes.\n\n\tJean slides off the back seat and thumps into the legwell.\n\n\tGrimsrud sweeps his gun off the front seat, throws open his\n\tdoor and gets out.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe wrecked car's headlights shine off into a snowfield\n\tabutting the highway. A young man in a down parka is\n\tlimping across the snowfield, away from the wrecked car.\n\n\tGrimsrud strides", "aked by the shower curtain\n\tbut awkwardly trying to push it off.\n\n\tUPSTAIRS LANDING\n\n\tStill thrashing, Jean crashes against the upstairs railing,\n\ttrips on the curtain and falls, thumping crazily down the\n\tstairs.\n\n\tGrimsrud trots down after her.\n\n\tA PLAQUE: WADE GUSTAFSON INCORPORTATED\n\n\tINT. WADE'S OFFICE\n\n\tWade sits behind his desk; another man rises as Jerry\n", "... The heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'll see you tomorrow.\n\n\tClick.\n\n\tJerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He\n\tangrily snatches it up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tJerome Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Reilly Deif" ], [ "on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair\n\twith the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we\n\thear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud\n\tstatic.\n\n\tWe track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette\n\tand expressionlessly gazing offscreen.\n\n\tWe track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old black-\n\tand-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl is\n\tbanging on it as he mutters:\n", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "get this\n\t\tover with.\n\n\tWIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP\n\n\tThere is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and\n\ta motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox\n\tflanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.\n\n\tMOTEL ROOM\n\n\tCarl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds\n\thaving sex with two truck-stop hookers.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh,", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", "\n\n\tThe headlights sweep off and a car hums past and on into the\n\tbackground. The two-lane highway is otherwise empty.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl drives. Grimsrud smokes and gazes out the window.\n\tFrom the back seat we hear whimpering.\n\n\tGrimsrud turns to look.\n\n\tJean lies bound and curled on the back seat underneath a\n\ttarpaulin.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut the fuck up or I'll", "'\n\t\tall the driving, whole fuckin' way\n\t\tfrom Brainerd, drivin', tryin' to,\n\t\tyou know, tryin' to chat, keep\n\t\tour spirits up, fight the boredom\n\t\tof the road, and you can't say one\n\t\tfucking thing just in the way of\n\t\tconversation.\n\n\tGrimsurd smokes, gazing out the window.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Well, fuck it, I don't have\n\t\t", "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "oper's head.\n\n\tJean screams.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut up.\n\n\tHe releases the policeman.\n\n\tThe policeman's head slides out the window and his body\n\tflops back onto the street.\n\n\tCarl looks out at the cop in the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\t(softly)\n\t\tWhoa... Whoa, Daddy.\n\n\tGrimsrud takes the trooper's hat off of Carl's lap", "... The heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'll see you tomorrow.\n\n\tClick.\n\n\tJerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He\n\tangrily snatches it up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tJerome Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Reilly Deif", "IDE\n\n\tWe are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him\n\twe see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the\n\tsound.\n\n\tGrimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's\n\tcap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.\n\n\tCarl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.\n\n\tGrimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.\n\n\tMARGE\n\n\tIn her cruiser", ", or we're gonna have to, ya\n\t\tknow, to shoot ya.\n\n\tGrimsrud stares at Carl.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Hey! I'll take care of this!\n\n\tBoth cars have stopped. Carl looks up at the rear-view\n\tmirror.\n\n\tThe trooper is stopped on the shoulder just behind them,\n\twriting in his citation book.\n\n\tCarl watches.\n\n\tWe hear the trooper's door open.\n\n\tThe tro", "rud gives him a sour look.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Come on, man. Okay, here's\n\t\tan idea. We'll stop outside of\n\t\tBrainerd. I know a place there\n\t\twe can get laid. Wuddya think?\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tI'm fuckin' hungry now, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYeah, yeah, Jesus - I'm sayin',\n\t\twe'", "\tWell... I'm goin' ta bed now.\n\n\tCARL'S CAR\n\n\tCarl mumbles as he drives, underlit by the dim dash lights,\n\tone hand now holding a piece of rag to his shredded jaw.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Fnnkn ashlzh... Fnk...\n\n\tROAD\n\n\tCarl's car roars into frame, violently swirling the snow.\n\tIts red tail lights fishtail away.\n\n\tFA", "kill you to say\n\t\tsomething?\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tI did.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\"No.\" First thing you've said\n\t\tin the last four hours. That's\n\t\ta, that's a fountain of conversation,\n\t\tman. That's a geyser. I mean, whoa,\n\t\tdaddy, stand back, man. Shit, I'm\n\t\tsittin' here driving, man, doin", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "sound.\n\n\tThe policeman leans forward into the car, listening.\n\n\tGrimsrud reaches across Carl, grabs the trooper by the hair\n\tand slams his head down onto the car door.\n\n\tThe policeman grunts, digs awkwardly for footing outside and\n\tthrows an arm for balance against the outside of the car.\n\n\tWith his free hand, Grimsrud pops the glove compartment. He\n\tbrings a gun out and reaches across Carl and shoots - BANG -\n\tinto the back of the tro", "ROAD\n\n\tCarl leans down to hoist up the body.\n\n\tHeadlights appear: an oncoming car.\n\n\tINT. CIERA\n\n\tGrimsrud notices.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe car approaches, slowing.\n\n\tCarl, with the trooper's body hoisted halfway up, is frozen\n\tin the headlights.\n\n\tThe car accelerates and roars past and away. We just make\n\tout the silhouettes of two occupants in front.\n\n\t", "to talk either, man. See how\n\t\tyou like it...\n\n\tHe drives.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Total silence...\n\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tHe is on the phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good. How you doin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tPretty good, Mr. Lundegaard.\n\t\tYou're damned hard to get on the\n\t\tphone.\n\n\t\t", "\t\tWADE\n\t\tJean and Scotty never have to\n\t\tworry.\n\n\tWHITE\n\n\tA black like curls through the white. Twisting perspective\n\tshows that it is an aerial shot of a two-lane highway,\n\tbordered by snowfields. The highway carries one moving car.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl Showalter is driving. Gaear Grimsrud stares blankly\n\tout.\n\n\tAfter a long beat:\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t", "\t\tOh, for Christ ... oh, geez...\n\n\tWade brings out his gun and fires at Carl's head, close by.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh!\n\n\tCarl stumbles and falls back, and then stands up again. His\n\tjaw is gouting blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Owwmm...\n\n\tOne hand pressed to his jaw, he fires down at Wade several\n\ttimes. Blood streams through the hand pressed to his jaw.\n\n" ], [ "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYou bet. Thanks for lunch. What\n\t\tdo we got here, Arbie's?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tUh-huh.\n\n\tShe starts eating.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... How's the paintin' goin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tPretty good. Found out the Hautmans\n\t\tare entering a painting this year.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t", "PAINTING\n\n\tA blue-winged teal in flight over a swampy marshland. The\n\troom in which it hangs is dark. We hear off-screen snoring.\n\n\tWe track off to reveal an easel upon which we see a half-\n\tcompleted oil of a grey mallard.\n\n\tThe continuing track reveals a couple in bed, sleeping. The\n\tman, fortyish, pajama-clad, is big, and big-bellied. His\n\tmouth is agape. He sno", "waiting for more, but Norm's eyes stay\n\tfixed on the television.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... So?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThree-cent stamp.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYour mallard?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNorm, that's terrific!\n\n\tNorm tries to suppress a smile of pleasure.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tIt's just the", "NORM\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWhen they're stuck with a bunch a\n\t\tthe old ones!\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, I guess.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThat's terrific.\n\n\tHer eyes go back to the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... I'm so proud a you, Norm.\n\n\tNorm murmurs:\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tI love you,", "enters frame in a nightie and\n\tclimbs into bed, with some effort.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOooph!\n\n\tNorm reaches for her hand as both watch the television.\n\n\tAt length Norm speaks, but keeps his eyes on the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThey announced it.\n\n\tMarge looks at him.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThey announced it?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge looks at him,", "house.\n\n\tMarge and Norm are watching television in bed. From the TV\n\twe hear insects chirring.\n\n\tAfter a long beat, silence except for the TV, Marge murmurs,\n\tstill looking at the set:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Well, I'm turnin' in, Norm.\n\n\tAlso looking at the TV:\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\t... Oh, yah?\n\n\tMarge rolls over and Norm continues to watch.\n\n\tWe", "Aw, hon, you're better'n them.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThey're real good.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThey're good, Norm, but you're\n\t\tbetter'n them.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, ya think?\n\n\tHe leans over and kisses her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAh, ya got Arbie's all o'er me.\n\n\tLou enters.\n\n\t\t\t", "utility belt to accomodate the seat.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHiya, hon.\n\n\tShe slides the paper sack toward him.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tBrought ya some lunch, Margie.\n\t\tWhat're those, night crawlers?\n\n\tHe looks inside.\n\n\tThe bottom of the sack is full of fat, crawling earthworms.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThanks, hon.", "OFF, SWEDISH MEATBALLS, BROILED TORSK, CHICKEN\n\tFLORENTINE.\n\n\tA complementary track shows two rays being pushed along a\n\tbuffet line, piled high with many foods.\n\n\tMARGE AND NORM AT A TABLE\n\n\tThey sit next to each other at a long cafateria-style\n\tFormica table, silently eating.\n\n\tA hip with a hissing walkie-talkie enters frame.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tHiya, Norm. How", "\t\tCOP ONE\n\t\tCall an ambulance!\n\n\t\t\t\tCOP TWO\n\t\tYou got him okay?\n\n\tCop One pinions Jerry's arms to the floor and Jerry bursts\n\tinto uncontrolled sobbing.\n\n\t\t\t\tCOP ONE\n\t\tYah, yah, call an ambulance.\n\n\tJerry sobs and screams.\n\n\tA BEDROOM\n\n\tWe are square on Norm, who sits in bed watching television.\n\n\tAfter a long beat, Marge", "S LAKE\n\n\tIt is late evening, blowing storm. A leisurely pan across\n\tthe bleak gray expanse finds a little hut in the middle of\n\tthe frozen lake with a pickup truck parked next to it.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE'S VOICE\n\t\tThey bitin'?\n\n\tINT. HUT\n\n\tNorm has a cellular phone to his ear. His feet are\n\tstretched out to an electric heater. The interior is bathed\n\tin soft orange light.\n\n\t\t\t", "sleep, hon.\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tYa gotta eat a breakfast...\n\n\tHe clears his throat with another deep rumble.\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\t... I'll fix ya some eggs.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAw, Norm.\n\n\tPLATE\n\n\tLeavings of a huge plate of eggs, ham, toast.\n\n\tWider, we see Marge now wearing a beige police uniform. A\n\tpatch on one arm says BRAINERD POL", "\tNORM\n\t\tYah, okay. How's the hotel?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, pretty good. They bitin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYeah, couple a muskies. No pike\n\t\tyet. How d'you feel?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, fine.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tNot on your feet too much?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, no.\n", "\tLOU\n\t\tHiya, Norm, how's the paintin'\n\t\tgoin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tNot too bad. You know.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHow we doin' on that vehicle?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tNo motels registered any tan Ciera\n\t\tlast night. But the night before,\n\t\ttwo men checked into the Blue Ox\n\t\tregistering a Ciera and leavin' the\n\t\ttag space blank.\n", "tall man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted\n\tjacket and a hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a\n\tlarge power tool which his body blocks from view.\n\n\tMarge advances.\n\n\tThe man is forcing downward something which engages the\n\troaring power tool and makes harsh spluttering noises.\n\n\tThe man is Grimsrud, his nose red and eyes watering from the\n\tcold, hatflaps pulled down over his ears. His breath steams\n\tas he sourly goes about", "she exits out the front\n\tdoor.\n\n\tEXT. GUNDERSON HOUSE\n\n\tDawn. Marge is making her way down the icy front stoop to\n\ther prowler.\n\n\tINT. GUNDERSON HOUSE\n\n\tNorm sits back onto the bed, shrugging off his robe. Off-\n\tscreen we hear the front door open.\n\n\tFRONT DOOR\n\n\tMarge stamps the snow off her shoes.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHon?\n\n\t", "his work, both hands pressing down a\n\tshod foot, as it if were the shaft of a butter churn.\n\n\tThe roar is very loud.\n\n\tMarge slogs down to the next tree, panting, looking.\n\n\tGrimsrud forces more of the leg into the machine, which we\n\tcan now see sprays small wet chunks out the bottom.\n\n\tMarge's eyes shift.\n\n\tA large dark form lies in the snow next to Grimsrud.\n\n\tGrimsrud works on, eyes watering. ", "ya doin', Margie?\n\t\tHow's the fricasse?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tPretty darn good, ya want some?\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tNo, I gotta - hey, Norm, I thought\n\t\tyou were goin' fishin' up at Mile\n\t\tLacs?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, after lunch.\n\n\tHe goes back to his food.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWhatcha got there?", "\t\t\tNORM\n\t\t\t(off)\n\t\tYah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tProwler needs a jump.\n\n\tHIGHWAY\n\n\tTwo police cars and an ambulance sit idling at the side of\n\tthe road, a pair of men inside each car.\n\n\tThe first car's driver door opens and a figure in a parka\n\temerges, holding two styrofoam cups. His partner leans\n\tacross the seat to close the door after him.\n\n\t", " So it's nice\n\t\tup there?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, it's good. No pike yet, but\n\t\tit's good.\n\n\tDAYTON-RADISSON RAMP\n\n\tThe top, open, level. Snow blows. A car sits idling.\n\n\tAnother car pulls onto the roof. It creeps over to the\n\tparked car and stops. It continues to idle as its door\n\topens and Wade steps out, carrying the briefcase" ], [ "calmly out after the injured boy. He\n\traises his gun and fires.\n\n\tWith a poof of feathers, a hole opens up in the boy's back\n\tand he pitches into the snow.\n\n\tGrimsrud walks up to the wreck and peers in its half-open\n\tdoor.\n\n\tA young woman is trapped inside the twisted wreckage,\n\tinjured.\n\n\tSnow swirls in the headlights of the wreck.\n\n\tGrimsrud raises his gun and fires.\n\n\tAN OIL", "trunk, slams it shut and walks back to the scene of the\n\tshooting.\n\n\tHe kicks at the snow with his galoshed feet, trying to hide\n\tthe fresh bloodstains.\n\n\tEXIT BOOTH\n\n\tJerry approaches in the Cadillac.\n\n\tThe wooden gate barring the exit has been broken away. The\n\tbooth is empty.\n\n\tJerry eases toward the street, looking over at the booth as\n\the passes.\n\n\tInside the booth we see the awkwardly angled leg of", "looks pretty bad. Two\n\t\tof'm're over here.\n\n\tMarge looks around as they start walking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWhere is everybody?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tWell - it's cold, Margie.\n\n\tBY THE WRECK\n\n\tLaid out in the early morning light is the wrecked car, a\n\tpair of footprints leading out to a man in a bright orange\n\tparka face down in the bloodstained snow, and one pair of\n\tfootsteps", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "on her chin, is motionless.\n\tThere is blood on the facing wall.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShe started shrieking, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tJezhush.\n\n\tHe shakes his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Well, I gotta muddy.\n\n\tHe is plunking down eight bank-wrapped bundles on the table.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... All of it. All", "'s drinkin', so I\n\t\tdon't think a whole great deal of\n\t\tit, but Mrs. Mohra heard about the\n\t\thomicides out here and she thought\n\t\tI should call it in, so I called\n\t\tit in. End a story.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tWhat'd this guy look like anyways?\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tOh, he was a little guy, kinda\n\t\tfunny-lookin'.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tUh", "\tWell... I'm goin' ta bed now.\n\n\tCARL'S CAR\n\n\tCarl mumbles as he drives, underlit by the dim dash lights,\n\tone hand now holding a piece of rag to his shredded jaw.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Fnnkn ashlzh... Fnk...\n\n\tROAD\n\n\tCarl's car roars into frame, violently swirling the snow.\n\tIts red tail lights fishtail away.\n\n\tFA", "me a jerk and\n\t\tsays the last guy who thought he\n\t\twas a jerk was dead now. So I\n\t\tdon't say nothin' and he says, 'What\n\t\tdo ya think about that?' So I\n\t\tsays, 'Well, that don't sound like\n\t\ttoo good a deal for him then.'\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tYa got that right.\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tAnd he says, 'Yah, that guy's dead\n\t\tand I don", "his work, both hands pressing down a\n\tshod foot, as it if were the shaft of a butter churn.\n\n\tThe roar is very loud.\n\n\tMarge slogs down to the next tree, panting, looking.\n\n\tGrimsrud forces more of the leg into the machine, which we\n\tcan now see sprays small wet chunks out the bottom.\n\n\tMarge's eyes shift.\n\n\tA large dark form lies in the snow next to Grimsrud.\n\n\tGrimsrud works on, eyes watering. ", "\tgets out and walks slowly to Wade's body, prostrate in the\n\tswirling snow.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh! Oh, geez!\n\n\tHe bends down, picks Wade up by the armpits and drags him\n\tover to the back of the Cadillac. He drops Wade's body,\n\twalks to the driver's side of the car, pulls the keys and\n\twalks back to pop the trunk. He wrestles Wade's body into\n\tthe", "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "aked by the shower curtain\n\tbut awkwardly trying to push it off.\n\n\tUPSTAIRS LANDING\n\n\tStill thrashing, Jean crashes against the upstairs railing,\n\ttrips on the curtain and falls, thumping crazily down the\n\tstairs.\n\n\tGrimsrud trots down after her.\n\n\tA PLAQUE: WADE GUSTAFSON INCORPORTATED\n\n\tINT. WADE'S OFFICE\n\n\tWade sits behind his desk; another man rises as Jerry\n", "ROAD\n\n\tCarl leans down to hoist up the body.\n\n\tHeadlights appear: an oncoming car.\n\n\tINT. CIERA\n\n\tGrimsrud notices.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe car approaches, slowing.\n\n\tCarl, with the trooper's body hoisted halfway up, is frozen\n\tin the headlights.\n\n\tThe car accelerates and roars past and away. We just make\n\tout the silhouettes of two occupants in front.\n\n\t", ", up on the shoulder, jerks his thumb.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tBack there a good piece. In\n\t\tthe ditch next to his prowler.\n\n\tMarge looks around at the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOkay, so we got a state trooper\n\t\tpulls someone over, we got a\n\t\tshooting, and these folks drive\n\t\tby, and we got a high-speed\n\t\tpursuit, ends here, and this\n\t\texecution-type deal", "ide.\n\n\tIn the back seat, Jean starts screaming.\n\n\tGrimsrud is not gaining on the tail lights.\n\n\tHe fights with the wheel as his car swims on the road face.\n\n\tThe red tail lights ahead start to turn. With a distant\n\tcrunching sound, they disappear.\n\n\tThe headlights now show only empty road, starting to turn.\n\n\tGrimsrud frowns and slows.\n\n\tHis headlights show the car up ahead off the road, crumpled\n\taround a telephone pole,", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "having failed to hold a turn.\n\n\tGrimsrud brakes.\n\n\tJean slides off the back seat and thumps into the legwell.\n\n\tGrimsrud sweeps his gun off the front seat, throws open his\n\tdoor and gets out.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe wrecked car's headlights shine off into a snowfield\n\tabutting the highway. A young man in a down parka is\n\tlimping across the snowfield, away from the wrecked car.\n\n\tGrimsrud strides", "that was Mrs. Lundegaard\n\t\tin there?\n\n\tShe glances up in the rear-view mirror.\n\n\tGrimsrud, cheeks sunk, eyes hollow, looks sourly out at the\n\troad.\n\n\tMarge shakes her head.\n\n\tAt length:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... I guess that was your\n\t\taccomplice in the wood chipper.\n\n\tGrimsrud's head bobs with bumps on the road; otherwise he is\n\tmotionless", "IDE\n\n\tWe are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him\n\twe see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the\n\tsound.\n\n\tGrimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's\n\tcap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.\n\n\tCarl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.\n\n\tGrimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.\n\n\tMARGE\n\n\tIn her cruiser", "\n\tShe stops, stands still, her hooded head swaying.\n\n\tShe lurches out in an arbitrary direction. Going downhill,\n\tshe reels, staggers, and falls face-first into the snow,\n\tweeping.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tHa ha ha ha ha ha! Jesus!\n\n\tGrimsrud, still expressionless, breaks away from Carl's\n\trestraining hand to retrieve her.\n\n\tBRAINERD POLICE HEADQUARTERS\n\n\tWe track behind" ], [ "\t\tJerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's, that's, I'm not go\n\t\tinta, inta - see, I just need\n\t\tmoney. Now, her dad's real\n\t\twealthy -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tSo why don't you just ask him\n\t\tfor the money?\n\n\tGrimsrud, the dour man who has not yet spoken, now softly\n\tputs in with a Swedish-accented voice:\n", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "we need more\n\t\tmoney.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThe heck d'ya mean? What a you\n\t\tguys got yourself mixed up in?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWe need more -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThis was s'posed to be a no-rough\n\t\t-stuff-type deal -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tDON'T EVER INTERRUPT ME, JERRY!\n\t\tJUST SHUT", "JERRY\n\t\tWade, have ya had a chance to\n\t\tthink about, uh, that deal I was\n\t\ttalkin' about, those forty acres\n\t\tthere on Wayzata?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYou told me about it.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, you said you'd have a think\n\t\tabout it. I understand it's a\n\t\tlot of money -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tA heck of a lot. What", "t need a finder's\n\t\tfee, I need - finder's fee's, what,\n\t\tten percent, heck that's not gonna\n\t\tdo it for me. I need the principal.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry, we're not just going to\n\t\tgive you seven hundred and fifty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck were you thinkin'?\n\t\tHeck, if I'm only gettin' bank", "'re not a bank, Jerry.\n\n\tWade is angry.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck, Jerry, if I wanted\n\t\tbank interest on seven hunnert'n\n\t\tfifty thousand I'd go to Midwest\n\t\tFederal. Talk to Bill Diehl.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tHe's at Norstar.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHe's at -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, see, I don'", "Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, I'm through\n\t\tfucking around. You got the\n\t\tfucking money?\n\n\tJERRY'S KITCHEN\n\n\tJerry is at the kitchen phone. Through the door to the\n\tdining room we see Wade picking up an extension.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, I got the money, but, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tDon't you", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "\tWADE\n\t\tAll the more reason! I don't want\n\t\tyou - with all due respect, Jerry\n\t\t- I don't want you mucking this up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThe heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tThey want my money, they can deal\n\t\twith me. Otherwise I'm goin' to\n\t\ta professional.\n\n\tHe points at a briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t... There", "\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tMy patience is at an end.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tGood day, sir.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah.\n\n\tWIDE ON THE CUBICLE\n\n\tWe are looking at Jerry's cubicle from across the showroom.\n\tNoise muted by distance, we watch Jerry slam down the\n\trec", "\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... My fee? Wade, what the\n\t\theck're you talkin' about?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan and I're okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe're good to loan in.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tBut we never talked about your\n\t\tfee for bringin'", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "\t\tjust read them to me -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut the deal's already done, I\n\t\talready got the money -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, but we have an audit here,\n\t\tI just have to know that these\n\t\tvehicles you're financing with\n\t\tthis money, that they really\n\t\texist.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, well, they exist all right.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tI'm", "it to us.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, but, Wade, see, I was\n\t\tbringin' you this deal for you\n\t\tto loan me the money to put\n\t\tin. It's my deal here, see?\n\n\tWade scowls, looks at Stan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry - we thought you were\n\t\tbringin' us an investment.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, right -\n\n\t\t\t", "ar!\n\n\tJerry sits staring at his lap.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\t... A fucking liar -\n\n\t\t\t\tWIFE\n\t\tBucky, please!\n\n\tJerry mumbles into his lap:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOne hunnert's the best we can\n\t\tdo here.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOh, for Christ's sake, where's my\n\t\tgoddamn checkbook. Let's", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "was everything today?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good now.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tSnow continues to fall. Jerry and Stan stand bundled in\n\ttheir parkas and galoshes near a row of beached vehicles.\n\tWade sits behind the wheel of an idling Lincoln, waiting for\n\tStan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tOkay. We'll get the money together.\n\t\tDon't worry about it, Jerry. Now,\n\t\td", "\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, it's pretty darned busy here,\n\t\tbut that's the way we like it.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThat's for sure. Now, I just\n\t\tneed, on these last, these financing\n\t\tdocuments you sent us, I can't\n\t\tread the serial numbers of the\n\t\tvehicles on here, so I -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut I already got the, it's okay,\n\t\tthe loans", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli" ], [ ".\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tYa got that right.\n\n\tCLOSE ON CARL SHOWALTER\n\n\tIn his car, now parked, one hand holding the rag pressed to\n\this mangled jaw. He is staring down at something in the\n\tfront seat next to him.\n\n\tHis other hand holds open the briefcase. It has money\n\tinside - a lot of money.\n\n\tCarl unfreezes, takes out one of the bank-wrapped wads and\n\tlooks at it.\n\n\t", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmnphh.\n\n\tHe paws through the money in the briefcase to get a feeling\n\tfor the amount.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Jeshush Shrist... Jeshush\n\t\tfuchem Shrist!\n\n\tExcited, he counts out a bundle of bills and tosses it onto\n\tthe back seat.\n\n\tHe starts to take the rag away from his chin but the layer\n\tpressed against his face sticks, its loose weave bound to\n", ". It's\n\t\tall worked out.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou want your own wife kidnapped?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tCarl Stares. Jerry looks blankly back.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You - my point is, you pay\n\t\tthe ransom - what eighty thousand\n\t\tbucks? - I mean, you give us\n\t\thalf the ransom, forty thousand,\n\t\tyou keep half", ".\n\n\tThe door of the other car bangs open and Carl bounces out.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWho the fuck are you? Who the\n\t\tfuck are you?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tI got your goddamn money, you\n\t\tlittle punk. Now where's my\n\t\tdaughter?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI am through fucking around! Drop\n\t\tthat fucking briefcase!\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhere", "dollars is a lot a damn\n\t\tmoney! And there they are, they\n\t\tgot my daughter!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but think this thing through\n\t\there, Wade. Ya give 'em what they\n\t\twant, why wont' they let her go?\n\t\tYou gotta listen to me on this one,\n\t\tWade.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHeck, you don't know! You're just\n\t\twhistlin' Dixie", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", "on her chin, is motionless.\n\tThere is blood on the facing wall.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShe started shrieking, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tJezhush.\n\n\tHe shakes his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Well, I gotta muddy.\n\n\tHe is plunking down eight bank-wrapped bundles on the table.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... All of it. All", ". It's like robbing\n\t\tPeter to play Paul, it doesn't\n\t\tmake any -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay, it's - see, it's not me\n\t\tpayin' the ransom. The thing is,\n\t\tmy wife, she's wealthy - her dad,\n\t\the's real well off. Now, I'm in\n\t\ta bit of trouble -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWhat kind of trouble are you in,\n", "\tWell... Why don't we...\n\n\tHe saws a finger under his nose.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t... Stan, I'm thinkin' we should\n\t\toffer 'em half a million.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNow come on here, no way, Wade!\n\t\tNo way!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWe're not horse-trading here, Wade,\n\t\twe just gotta bite the bullet on\n\t\tthis thing.\n\n\t", "'re they doing? Wuddya\n\t\tthink they're doin' with Mom?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tIt's okay, Scotty. They're not\n\t\tgonna want to hurt her any.\n\t\tThese men, they just want money,\n\t\tsee.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT\n\t\tWhat if - what if sumpn goes wrong?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, no, nothin's goin' wrong here.\n\t\tGr", "\this skin by clotted blood.\n\n\tHe pulls very gently and winces as blood starts to flow\n\tagain.\n\n\tHe carefully tears the rag in half so that only a bit of it\n\tremains adhering to his jaw.\n\n\tEXT. CAR\n\n\tIt is pulled over to the side of an untraveled road. THe\n\tdoor opens and Carl emerges with the briefcase.\n\n\tHe slogs through the snow, down a gulley and up the\n\tembankment to a barbed-wire fence. ", "\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...\n\n\tHe pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,\n\tflings it into his car, gets in, peels out.\n\n\tDOWN RAMP\n\n\tCarl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed\n\tand swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to\n\tthe top.\n\n\tINT. JERRY'S CAR\n\n\tJerry recovers from the", "arned clear on that, Wade! They\n\t\tsaid you call the cops and we -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWell, a course they're gonna say\n\t\tthat! But where's my protection?\n\t\tThey got Jean here! I give these\n\t\tsons a bitches a million dollars,\n\t\twhere's my guarantee they're gonna\n\t\tlet her go.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, they -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tA million", "He kneels at one of the\n\tfence posts and frantically digs into the snow with his bare\n\thands, throws in the briefcase and covers it back up.\n\n\tHe stands and tries to beat the circulation back into his\n\tred, frozen hands.\n\n\tHe looks to the right.\n\n\tA regular line of identical fence posts stretches away\n\tagainst unblemished white.\n\n\tHe looks to the left.\n\n\tA regular line of identical fence posts stretches away\n\tagainst unblemished white.\n\n\tHe looks", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "ats the fifty into the billfold\n\tand hands the billfold back into the car.\n\n\t\t\t\tTROOPER\n\t\tPut that back in your pocket,\n\t\tplease.\n\n\tCarl's nervous smile fades.\n\n\t\t\t\tTROOPER\n\t\t... And step out of the car,\n\t\tplease, sir.\n\n\tGrimsrud, smiling thinly, shakes his head.\n\n\tThere is a whimpering sound.\n\n\tThe policeman hesitates.\n\n\tAnother", "gets into his Cadillac, slams the\n\tdoor and peels out.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tWade's jaw works as he glares out at traffic. He mumbles to\n\thimself as he drives.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tOkay ... here's your damn money,\n\t\tnow where's my daughter?...\n\t\tGoddamn punk ... where's my damn\n\t\tdaughter...\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun, cracks the barrel, peers in.\n\n\t\t\t", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'" ], [ "on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair\n\twith the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we\n\thear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud\n\tstatic.\n\n\tWe track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette\n\tand expressionlessly gazing offscreen.\n\n\tWe track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old black-\n\tand-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl is\n\tbanging on it as he mutters:\n", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "get this\n\t\tover with.\n\n\tWIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP\n\n\tThere is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and\n\ta motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox\n\tflanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.\n\n\tMOTEL ROOM\n\n\tCarl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds\n\thaving sex with two truck-stop hookers.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh,", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", "\n\n\tThe headlights sweep off and a car hums past and on into the\n\tbackground. The two-lane highway is otherwise empty.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl drives. Grimsrud smokes and gazes out the window.\n\tFrom the back seat we hear whimpering.\n\n\tGrimsrud turns to look.\n\n\tJean lies bound and curled on the back seat underneath a\n\ttarpaulin.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut the fuck up or I'll", "'\n\t\tall the driving, whole fuckin' way\n\t\tfrom Brainerd, drivin', tryin' to,\n\t\tyou know, tryin' to chat, keep\n\t\tour spirits up, fight the boredom\n\t\tof the road, and you can't say one\n\t\tfucking thing just in the way of\n\t\tconversation.\n\n\tGrimsurd smokes, gazing out the window.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Well, fuck it, I don't have\n\t\t", "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "oper's head.\n\n\tJean screams.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tShut up.\n\n\tHe releases the policeman.\n\n\tThe policeman's head slides out the window and his body\n\tflops back onto the street.\n\n\tCarl looks out at the cop in the road.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\t(softly)\n\t\tWhoa... Whoa, Daddy.\n\n\tGrimsrud takes the trooper's hat off of Carl's lap", "... The heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'll see you tomorrow.\n\n\tClick.\n\n\tJerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He\n\tangrily snatches it up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tJerome Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Reilly Deif", "IDE\n\n\tWe are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him\n\twe see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the\n\tsound.\n\n\tGrimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's\n\tcap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.\n\n\tCarl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.\n\n\tGrimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.\n\n\tMARGE\n\n\tIn her cruiser", ", or we're gonna have to, ya\n\t\tknow, to shoot ya.\n\n\tGrimsrud stares at Carl.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Hey! I'll take care of this!\n\n\tBoth cars have stopped. Carl looks up at the rear-view\n\tmirror.\n\n\tThe trooper is stopped on the shoulder just behind them,\n\twriting in his citation book.\n\n\tCarl watches.\n\n\tWe hear the trooper's door open.\n\n\tThe tro", "rud gives him a sour look.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Come on, man. Okay, here's\n\t\tan idea. We'll stop outside of\n\t\tBrainerd. I know a place there\n\t\twe can get laid. Wuddya think?\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tI'm fuckin' hungry now, you know.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYeah, yeah, Jesus - I'm sayin',\n\t\twe'", "\tWell... I'm goin' ta bed now.\n\n\tCARL'S CAR\n\n\tCarl mumbles as he drives, underlit by the dim dash lights,\n\tone hand now holding a piece of rag to his shredded jaw.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Fnnkn ashlzh... Fnk...\n\n\tROAD\n\n\tCarl's car roars into frame, violently swirling the snow.\n\tIts red tail lights fishtail away.\n\n\tFA", "kill you to say\n\t\tsomething?\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tI did.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t\"No.\" First thing you've said\n\t\tin the last four hours. That's\n\t\ta, that's a fountain of conversation,\n\t\tman. That's a geyser. I mean, whoa,\n\t\tdaddy, stand back, man. Shit, I'm\n\t\tsittin' here driving, man, doin", "here?\n\n\tHe pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Is this a fucking joke?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tUnghh ... oh, geez...\n\n\tHe is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou fucking imbeciles!\n\n\tHe bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n", "sound.\n\n\tThe policeman leans forward into the car, listening.\n\n\tGrimsrud reaches across Carl, grabs the trooper by the hair\n\tand slams his head down onto the car door.\n\n\tThe policeman grunts, digs awkwardly for footing outside and\n\tthrows an arm for balance against the outside of the car.\n\n\tWith his free hand, Grimsrud pops the glove compartment. He\n\tbrings a gun out and reaches across Carl and shoots - BANG -\n\tinto the back of the tro", "ROAD\n\n\tCarl leans down to hoist up the body.\n\n\tHeadlights appear: an oncoming car.\n\n\tINT. CIERA\n\n\tGrimsrud notices.\n\n\tEXT. ROAD\n\n\tThe car approaches, slowing.\n\n\tCarl, with the trooper's body hoisted halfway up, is frozen\n\tin the headlights.\n\n\tThe car accelerates and roars past and away. We just make\n\tout the silhouettes of two occupants in front.\n\n\t", "to talk either, man. See how\n\t\tyou like it...\n\n\tHe drives.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Total silence...\n\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tHe is on the phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good. How you doin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tPretty good, Mr. Lundegaard.\n\t\tYou're damned hard to get on the\n\t\tphone.\n\n\t\t", "\t\tWADE\n\t\tJean and Scotty never have to\n\t\tworry.\n\n\tWHITE\n\n\tA black like curls through the white. Twisting perspective\n\tshows that it is an aerial shot of a two-lane highway,\n\tbordered by snowfields. The highway carries one moving car.\n\n\tINT. CAR\n\n\tCarl Showalter is driving. Gaear Grimsrud stares blankly\n\tout.\n\n\tAfter a long beat:\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t", "\t\tOh, for Christ ... oh, geez...\n\n\tWade brings out his gun and fires at Carl's head, close by.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh!\n\n\tCarl stumbles and falls back, and then stands up again. His\n\tjaw is gouting blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Owwmm...\n\n\tOne hand pressed to his jaw, he fires down at Wade several\n\ttimes. Blood streams through the hand pressed to his jaw.\n\n" ], [ "hold.\n\n\tBLACK\n\n\tHold.\n\n\tA snowflake drops through the black.\n\n\tAnother flake.\n\n\tIt starts snowing.\n\n\tBRAINERD MAIN STREET\n\n\tThe lone traffic light blinks slowly, steadily, red. Snow\n\tsifts down. There is no other movement.\n\n\tPAUL BUNYAN\n\n\tWe are looking up at the bottom-lit statue. Snow falls.\n\n\tHIGH SHOT OF MARGE'S HOUSE\n", "his work, both hands pressing down a\n\tshod foot, as it if were the shaft of a butter churn.\n\n\tThe roar is very loud.\n\n\tMarge slogs down to the next tree, panting, looking.\n\n\tGrimsrud forces more of the leg into the machine, which we\n\tcan now see sprays small wet chunks out the bottom.\n\n\tMarge's eyes shift.\n\n\tA large dark form lies in the snow next to Grimsrud.\n\n\tGrimsrud works on, eyes watering. ", "calmly out after the injured boy. He\n\traises his gun and fires.\n\n\tWith a poof of feathers, a hole opens up in the boy's back\n\tand he pitches into the snow.\n\n\tGrimsrud walks up to the wreck and peers in its half-open\n\tdoor.\n\n\tA young woman is trapped inside the twisted wreckage,\n\tinjured.\n\n\tSnow swirls in the headlights of the wreck.\n\n\tGrimsrud raises his gun and fires.\n\n\tAN OIL", "tall man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted\n\tjacket and a hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a\n\tlarge power tool which his body blocks from view.\n\n\tMarge advances.\n\n\tThe man is forcing downward something which engages the\n\troaring power tool and makes harsh spluttering noises.\n\n\tThe man is Grimsrud, his nose red and eyes watering from the\n\tcold, hatflaps pulled down over his ears. His breath steams\n\tas he sourly goes about", "ingerly\n\tsteps down the slope, through the deep snow, through the\n\ttrees angling toward the cabin and the source of the\n\tgrinding noise.\n\n\tShe slogs from tree to tree, letting each one support her\n\tdownhill-leaning weight for a moment before slogging to the\n\tnext.\n\n\tThe roar grows louder. Marge stands panting by one tree,\n\ther breath vaporizing out of her snorkel hood. She squints\n\tdown toward the cabin's back lot.\n\n\tA", "He kneels at one of the\n\tfence posts and frantically digs into the snow with his bare\n\thands, throws in the briefcase and covers it back up.\n\n\tHe stands and tries to beat the circulation back into his\n\tred, frozen hands.\n\n\tHe looks to the right.\n\n\tA regular line of identical fence posts stretches away\n\tagainst unblemished white.\n\n\tHe looks to the left.\n\n\tA regular line of identical fence posts stretches away\n\tagainst unblemished white.\n\n\tHe looks", "looks pretty bad. Two\n\t\tof'm're over here.\n\n\tMarge looks around as they start walking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWhere is everybody?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tWell - it's cold, Margie.\n\n\tBY THE WRECK\n\n\tLaid out in the early morning light is the wrecked car, a\n\tpair of footprints leading out to a man in a bright orange\n\tparka face down in the bloodstained snow, and one pair of\n\tfootsteps", "pulls out a red plastic scraper\n\tand starts methodically scraping off the thin crust of ice\n\tthat has developed on his windshield.\n\n\tThe scrape-scrape-scrape sound carries in the frigid air.\n\n\tJerry goes into a frenzy, banging the scraper against the\n\twindshield and the hood of his car.\n\n\tThe tantrum passes. Jerry stands pantin, staring at nothing\n\tin particular.\n\n\tScrape-scrape-scrape - he goes back", ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", "at the fence post in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tMmmphh...\n\n\tHe looks about the snowy vastness for a marker. Finding\n\tnone, he kicks the fence post a couple of times, failing to\n\tscar or tilt it, then hurriedly plants a couple of sicks up\n\tagainst the post.\n\n\tHe bends down, scoops up a handful of snow, presses it\n\tagainst his wounded jaw, and lopes back to the idling car.\n\n\tHOT", "\n\n\tSlowly the white becomes a barely perceptible image: white\n\tparticles wave over a white background. A snowfall.\n\n\tA car bursts through the curtain of snow.\n\n\tThe car is equipped with a hitch and is towing another car,\n\ta brand-new light brown Cutlass Ciera with the pink sales\n\tsticker showing in its rear window.\n\n\tAs the car roars past, leaving snow swirling in their dirft,\n\tthe title of the film fades in.\n\n\t\t\t\tF", "her siren.\n\n\tShe turns on her flashers.\n\n\tShe leans back with a creak and jangle of utilities.\n\n\tShe stares forward, shakes her head. We hear the dull click\n\tof her flashers.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... I just don't unnerstand it.\n\n\tOutside it is snowing. The sky, the earth, the road - all\n\twhite.\n\n\tA squad car, gumballs spinning, punches through the white.\n", "No way.\n\n\tShe is looking at the prowler, which still idles on the\n\tshoulder.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSomebody shut his lights. I guess\n\t\tthe little guy sat in there, waitin'\n\t\tfor his buddy t'come back.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYah, woulda been cold out here.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHeck, yah. Ya think, is Dave open\n\t\tyet?\n\n\t\t\t\t", "iever, rise to his feet, fling the phone to the floor,\n\traise his desk blotter high over his head with pens and\n\tpencils rolling off it and slam it onto his desktop.\n\n\tHe stands for a moment, hands on hips, glaring.\n\n\tHe stoops and picks up the phone, places it back on the\n\tdesktop, starts picking up the pens and pencils.\n\n\tTRACK\n\n\tOn steam-table bins of food, each identified by a plaque:\n\tBEEF STROGAN", "sound, the door shifts in its frame.\n\n\tBEDROOM\n\n\tGrimsrud has a crowbar jammed in between the bathroom door\n\tand frame, and is working it.\n\n\tBATHROOM\n\n\tJean crosses to a high window above the toilet and throws it\n\topen. Snow that had drifted against the window sifts\n\tlightly in. Jean steps up onto the toilet.\n\n\tThe door creaks, moving as one piece in its frame.\n\n\tJean glances back as she steps up from the", "toilet seat to\n\tthe tank.\n\n\tThe groaning of the door ends with the wood around its knob\n\tsplintering and the knob itself falling out onto the floor.\n\n\tThe door swings open.\n\n\tGrimsrud and Carl enter.\n\n\tTHEIR POV\n\n\tRoom empty, window open.\n\n\tCarl strides to the window and hoists himself out.\n\n\tGrimsrud opens the medicine cabinet and delicately taps\n\taside various bottles and tubes, seeking the proper unguent.\n", "\n\tknees down near the snow.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYa see something down there, Chief?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh - I just, I think I'm gonna barf.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tGeez, you okay, Margie?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI'm fine - it's just morning\n\t\tsickness.\n\n\tShe gets up, sweeping snow from her knees.\n\n\t\t\t\tM", ", right-o.\n\n\tThe two men caucus the driveway without shaking hands and\n\twithout standing particularly close. They stand stiffly,\n\tarms down at their sides and breath streaming out of their\n\tparka hoods. Each has an awkward leaning-away posture, head\n\tdrawn slightly back and chin tucked in, to keep his face\n\tfrom protruding into the cold.\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\t... So, I'm tendin' bar there at\n\t\tEcklund && Swedlin's last", "the heavy log travels perhaps ten yards and lands\n\tin the snow several feet short of her.\n\n\tGrimsrud pants up the hill - slow going through the deep\n\tsnow.\n\n\tBehind him:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires in the air.\n\n\tShe lowers the gun and carefully sighs.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires.\n\n\tGrimsrud still slogs up the hill - a miss.", " So it's nice\n\t\tup there?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, it's good. No pike yet, but\n\t\tit's good.\n\n\tDAYTON-RADISSON RAMP\n\n\tThe top, open, level. Snow blows. A car sits idling.\n\n\tAnother car pulls onto the roof. It creeps over to the\n\tparked car and stops. It continues to idle as its door\n\topens and Wade steps out, carrying the briefcase" ], [ "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tI thought, geez, is that Margie\n\t\tOlmstead? I can't believe it!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, that's me.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, how the heck are ya?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOkay, ya know. Okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah?\n\n", "After a long moment her stare breaks. She glances idly\n\taround the office.\n\n\tThere is a framed picture facing away from her on the\n\tdesktop. She turns it to face her. It is Scotty, holding\n\tan accordion. There is another picture of Jean.\n\n\tMarge looks at it, looks around, for some reason, at the\n\tceiling.\n\n\tShe looks at a trophy shelf on the wall behind her.\n\n\tShe fiddles idly with a pencil. She pulls a clipboard", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSorry - didn't copy.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tStill missing. We're looking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tCopy. And Lundegaard too.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah. Where are ya, Margie?\n\n\tWe hear, distant but growing louder, harsh engine noise, as\n\tof a chainsaw or lawnmower.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, I'", ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", "Marge sticks her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard? Sorry to bother\n\t\tyou again. Can I come in?\n\n\tShe starts to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, no, I'm kinda - I'm kinda\n\t\tbusy -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI unnerstand. I'll keep it real\n\t\tshort, then. I'm on my way out\n\t\tof town", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Now, I know you've had some\n\t\tproblems, struggling with the\n\t\tnarcotics, some other entanglements,\n\t\tcurrently on parole -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, associating with criminals,\n\t\tif you're the one they talked to,\n\t\tthat right there would be a\n\t\tviolation of your parole and would\n\t\tend with", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, just so I can see ya, ya know.\n\t\tDon't have to turn my neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, sure, I unnerstand, I didn't\n\t\tmean to -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, no, that's fine.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, sorry, so I was married to\n\t\tLinda Cooksey - ya remember Linda?\n\t\tShe was a year behind", "\n\n\tMarge sights again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires again.\n\n\tGrimsrud pitches forward. He mutters in Swedish as he\n\treaches down to clutch at his wounded leg.\n\n\tMarge walks toward him, gun trained on him as her other hand\n\treaches under her parka and gropes around her waist.\n\n\tIt comes out with a pair of handcuffs, which she opens with\n\ta snap of the wrist.\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tGreat. What brings ya down - are\n\t\tya down here on that homicide -\n\t\tif you're allowed, ya know, to\n\t\tdiscuss that?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, yah, but there's not a heckuva\n\t\tlot to discuss. What about you,\n\t\tMike? Are you married - you have\n\t\tkids?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, yah, I was married. ", "\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah - how are you doon?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, pretty good.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHeck, it's been such a long time,\n\t\tMike. It's great to hear from ya.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah... Yah, yah. Geeze, Margie!\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE\n\n\tJerry is on the sales floor, showing", "The reverse shows Marge approaching from her own squad car.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHiya, Lou.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tMargie. Thought you might need\n\t\ta little warm-up.\n\n\tHe hands her one of the cups of coffee.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, thanks a bunch. So what's\n\t\tthe deal, now? Gary says triple\n\t\thomicide?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYah,", "us.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI think I remember Linda, yah.\n\t\tShe was - yah. So things didn't\n\t\twork out, huh?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tAnd then I, and then I been workin'\n\t\tfor Honeywell for a few years now.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, they're a good outfit.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, if you're an engineer, yah,\n", "\n\tknees down near the snow.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYa see something down there, Chief?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh - I just, I think I'm gonna barf.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tGeez, you okay, Margie?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI'm fine - it's just morning\n\t\tsickness.\n\n\tShe gets up, sweeping snow from her knees.\n\n\t\t\t\tM", "s had psychiatric problems.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh. Oh, my.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah, he - he's been struggling.\n\t\tHe's living with his parents now.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh. Geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah, Linda's fine. You should\n\t\tcall her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tGeez. Well - geez.", "he might go...\n\n\tThe woman is entering frame sliding a tray. Marge enters\n\tbehind her, sliding her own. We move laterally with them as\n\tthey slowly make their way along the line.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh-huh.\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tWe called his house; his little\n\t\tboy said he hadn't been there.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAnd his wife?\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tShe'", "\t\tI saw him last night and he's -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tWhat'd he say?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, it was nothin' specific\n\t\the said, it just seemd like it\n\t\tall hit him really hard, his\n\t\twife dyin' -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tLinda.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t\t", "a grimy and cluttered glassed-in cubicle.\n\n\t\t\t\tMECHANIC\n\t\tSaid she was a policewoman.\n\n\tMarge and Shep silently talk.\n\n\tJerry stares, swallows.\n\n\tINSIDE THE CUBICLE\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t- Wednesday night?\n\n\tShep is shaking his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNope.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, you do reside their at" ], [ "MARGE\n\t\t... Well, yah. Who's this?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Mike Yanagita. Ya know\n\t\t- Mike Yanagita. Remember me?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mike Yanagita!\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah!\n\n\tMarge props herself up next to the still-sleeping Norm.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, yah, course I remember.\n\t\t", ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tI thought, geez, is that Margie\n\t\tOlmstead? I can't believe it!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, that's me.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, how the heck are ya?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOkay, ya know. Okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah?\n\n", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "After a long moment her stare breaks. She glances idly\n\taround the office.\n\n\tThere is a framed picture facing away from her on the\n\tdesktop. She turns it to face her. It is Scotty, holding\n\tan accordion. There is another picture of Jean.\n\n\tMarge looks at it, looks around, for some reason, at the\n\tceiling.\n\n\tShe looks at a trophy shelf on the wall behind her.\n\n\tShe fiddles idly with a pencil. She pulls a clipboard", "\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tGreat. What brings ya down - are\n\t\tya down here on that homicide -\n\t\tif you're allowed, ya know, to\n\t\tdiscuss that?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, yah, but there's not a heckuva\n\t\tlot to discuss. What about you,\n\t\tMike? Are you married - you have\n\t\tkids?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, yah, I was married. ", "paunching man of about Marge's age, rising\n\tfrom a booth halfway back. His features are broad,\n\tfriendly, Asian-American.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMike!\n\n\tHe approaches somewhat carefully, as if on his second drink.\n\tThey hug and head back toward the booth.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tGeez! You look great!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah - easy there - you do too!\n\t\tI'm expecting, ya know", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSorry - didn't copy.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tStill missing. We're looking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tCopy. And Lundegaard too.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah. Where are ya, Margie?\n\n\tWe hear, distant but growing louder, harsh engine noise, as\n\tof a chainsaw or lawnmower.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, I'", "With a grunt he bends\n\tdown out of frame and then re-enters holding a thick log.\n\tHe uses it to force the leg deeper into the machine.\n\n\tMarge is advancing. She holds a gun extended toward\n\tGrimsrud, who is still turned away.\n\n\tGrimsrud rubs his nose with the back of his hand.\n\n\tMarge closes in, grimacing.\n\n\tGrimsrud's back strains as he puts his weight into the log\n\tthat pushes down into the machine.\n", "the heavy log travels perhaps ten yards and lands\n\tin the snow several feet short of her.\n\n\tGrimsrud pants up the hill - slow going through the deep\n\tsnow.\n\n\tBehind him:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires in the air.\n\n\tShe lowers the gun and carefully sighs.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires.\n\n\tGrimsrud still slogs up the hill - a miss.", "\n\n\tMarge sights again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Halt!\n\n\tShe fires again.\n\n\tGrimsrud pitches forward. He mutters in Swedish as he\n\treaches down to clutch at his wounded leg.\n\n\tMarge walks toward him, gun trained on him as her other hand\n\treaches under her parka and gropes around her waist.\n\n\tIt comes out with a pair of handcuffs, which she opens with\n\ta snap of the wrist.\n\n\t\t\t", "The reverse shows Marge approaching from her own squad car.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHiya, Lou.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tMargie. Thought you might need\n\t\ta little warm-up.\n\n\tHe hands her one of the cups of coffee.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, thanks a bunch. So what's\n\t\tthe deal, now? Gary says triple\n\t\thomicide?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYah,", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, just so I can see ya, ya know.\n\t\tDon't have to turn my neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, sure, I unnerstand, I didn't\n\t\tmean to -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, no, that's fine.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, sorry, so I was married to\n\t\tLinda Cooksey - ya remember Linda?\n\t\tShe was a year behind", "\ttell me about him?\n\n\t\t\t\tHOOKER ONE\n\t\tNo. Like I say, he was funny-looking.\n\t\tMore'n most people even.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAnd what about the other fella?\n\n\t\t\t\tHOOKER TWO\n\t\tHe was a little older. Looked like\n\t\tthe Marlboro man.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah?\n\n\t\t\t\tHOOKER TWO\n\t\tYah", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "s had psychiatric problems.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh. Oh, my.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah, he - he's been struggling.\n\t\tHe's living with his parents now.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh. Geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah, Linda's fine. You should\n\t\tcall her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tGeez. Well - geez.", "had any new vehicles stolen\n\t\toff the lot in the past couple of\n\t\tweeks - specifically a tan Cutlass\n\t\tCiera?\n\n\tJerry stares at her, his mouth open.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Brainerd?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and\n\t\tBabe the Blue Ox.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah - how are you doon?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, pretty good.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHeck, it's been such a long time,\n\t\tMike. It's great to hear from ya.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah... Yah, yah. Geeze, Margie!\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE\n\n\tJerry is on the sales floor, showing", "us.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI think I remember Linda, yah.\n\t\tShe was - yah. So things didn't\n\t\twork out, huh?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tAnd then I, and then I been workin'\n\t\tfor Honeywell for a few years now.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, they're a good outfit.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, if you're an engineer, yah,\n" ], [ "MARGE\n\t\t... Well, yah. Who's this?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Mike Yanagita. Ya know\n\t\t- Mike Yanagita. Remember me?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mike Yanagita!\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah!\n\n\tMarge props herself up next to the still-sleeping Norm.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, yah, course I remember.\n\t\t", "\t\tI saw him last night and he's -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tWhat'd he say?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, it was nothin' specific\n\t\the said, it just seemd like it\n\t\tall hit him really hard, his\n\t\twife dyin' -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tLinda.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t\t", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", "After a long moment her stare breaks. She glances idly\n\taround the office.\n\n\tThere is a framed picture facing away from her on the\n\tdesktop. She turns it to face her. It is Scotty, holding\n\tan accordion. There is another picture of Jean.\n\n\tMarge looks at it, looks around, for some reason, at the\n\tceiling.\n\n\tShe looks at a trophy shelf on the wall behind her.\n\n\tShe fiddles idly with a pencil. She pulls a clipboard", "\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tGreat. What brings ya down - are\n\t\tya down here on that homicide -\n\t\tif you're allowed, ya know, to\n\t\tdiscuss that?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, yah, but there's not a heckuva\n\t\tlot to discuss. What about you,\n\t\tMike? Are you married - you have\n\t\tkids?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, yah, I was married. ", "he might go...\n\n\tThe woman is entering frame sliding a tray. Marge enters\n\tbehind her, sliding her own. We move laterally with them as\n\tthey slowly make their way along the line.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh-huh.\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tWe called his house; his little\n\t\tboy said he hadn't been there.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAnd his wife?\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tShe'", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, just so I can see ya, ya know.\n\t\tDon't have to turn my neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, sure, I unnerstand, I didn't\n\t\tmean to -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, no, that's fine.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, sorry, so I was married to\n\t\tLinda Cooksey - ya remember Linda?\n\t\tShe was a year behind", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tI thought, geez, is that Margie\n\t\tOlmstead? I can't believe it!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, that's me.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, how the heck are ya?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOkay, ya know. Okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah?\n\n", "s visiting relatives in Florida.\n\t\tNow his boss, this guy Gustafson,\n\t\the's also disappeared. Nobody at\n\t\this office knows where he is.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tGeez. Looks like this thing goes\n\t\thigher than we thought. You call\n\t\this home?\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tHis wife's in the hospital, has\n\t\tbeen for a couple months. The big C.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n", "a grimy and cluttered glassed-in cubicle.\n\n\t\t\t\tMECHANIC\n\t\tSaid she was a policewoman.\n\n\tMarge and Shep silently talk.\n\n\tJerry stares, swallows.\n\n\tINSIDE THE CUBICLE\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t- Wednesday night?\n\n\tShep is shaking his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNope.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, you do reside their at", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSorry - didn't copy.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tStill missing. We're looking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tCopy. And Lundegaard too.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah. Where are ya, Margie?\n\n\tWe hear, distant but growing louder, harsh engine noise, as\n\tof a chainsaw or lawnmower.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, I'", "The reverse shows Marge approaching from her own squad car.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHiya, Lou.\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tMargie. Thought you might need\n\t\ta little warm-up.\n\n\tHe hands her one of the cups of coffee.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, thanks a bunch. So what's\n\t\tthe deal, now? Gary says triple\n\t\thomicide?\n\n\t\t\t\tLOU\n\t\tYah,", "\t\tyou could do a lot worse. Of\n\t\tcourse, it's not, uh, it's\n\t\tnothin' like your achievement.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tIt sounds like you're doin' really\n\t\tsuper.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, well, I, uh ... it's not that\n\t\tit didn't work out - Linda passed\n\t\taway. She, uh...\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI", "\ttell me about him?\n\n\t\t\t\tHOOKER ONE\n\t\tNo. Like I say, he was funny-looking.\n\t\tMore'n most people even.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAnd what about the other fella?\n\n\t\t\t\tHOOKER TWO\n\t\tHe was a little older. Looked like\n\t\tthe Marlboro man.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah?\n\n\t\t\t\tHOOKER TWO\n\t\tYah", "With a grunt he bends\n\tdown out of frame and then re-enters holding a thick log.\n\tHe uses it to force the leg deeper into the machine.\n\n\tMarge is advancing. She holds a gun extended toward\n\tGrimsrud, who is still turned away.\n\n\tGrimsrud rubs his nose with the back of his hand.\n\n\tMarge closes in, grimacing.\n\n\tGrimsrud's back strains as he puts his weight into the log\n\tthat pushes down into the machine.\n", "\n\tThe dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of\n\tCarl Showalter's body.\n\n\tMarge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it\n\tsounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by the\n\troar of the power tool.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tStop! Police! Turn around and\n\t\thands up!\n\n\tStartled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.\n\n\tHe stares.\n\n\tM", "enters frame in a nightie and\n\tclimbs into bed, with some effort.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOooph!\n\n\tNorm reaches for her hand as both watch the television.\n\n\tAt length Norm speaks, but keeps his eyes on the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThey announced it.\n\n\tMarge looks at him.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThey announced it?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge looks at him," ], [ "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "... The heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'll see you tomorrow.\n\n\tClick.\n\n\tJerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He\n\tangrily snatches it up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tJerome Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Reilly Deif", "LE\n\n\tHe sits in and picks up his phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJerry Lundegaard.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, you got this\n\t\tphone to yourself?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell ... yah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tKnow who this is?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, yah, I got an idea. How's\n\t\tthat Ciera workin' out", "get this\n\t\tover with.\n\n\tWIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP\n\n\tThere is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and\n\ta motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox\n\tflanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.\n\n\tMOTEL ROOM\n\n\tCarl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds\n\thaving sex with two truck-stop hookers.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh,", "on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair\n\twith the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we\n\thear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud\n\tstatic.\n\n\tWe track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette\n\tand expressionlessly gazing offscreen.\n\n\tWe track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old black-\n\tand-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl is\n\tbanging on it as he mutters:\n", "fucking but me, Jerry.\n\t\tI want you with this money on the\n\t\tDayton-Radisson parking ramp, top\n\t\tlevel, thirty minutes, and we'll\n\t\twrap this up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, but, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou're there in thirty minutes or\n\t\tI find you, Jerry, and I shoot\n\t\tyou, and I shoot your fucking wife,\n\t\tand I shoot all your little fucking\n\t\tchildren", ". Brand-new burnt umber\n\t\tCiera.\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYeah, okay. Well, siddown then.\n\t\tI'm Carl Showalter and this is\n\t\tmy associate Gaear Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how ya doin'. So, uh, we\n\t\tall set on this thing, then?\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tSure, Jerry, we're all set.", "to talk either, man. See how\n\t\tyou like it...\n\n\tHe drives.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Total silence...\n\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tHe is on the phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good. How you doin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tPretty good, Mr. Lundegaard.\n\t\tYou're damned hard to get on the\n\t\tphone.\n\n\t\t", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...\n\n\tHe pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,\n\tflings it into his car, gets in, peels out.\n\n\tDOWN RAMP\n\n\tCarl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed\n\tand swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to\n\tthe top.\n\n\tINT. JERRY'S CAR\n\n\tJerry recovers from the", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "Who's Jean?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tMy wife! What the - how's -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh, Jean's okay. But there's\n\t\tthree people up in Brainerd who\n\t\taren't so okay, I'll tell ya that.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck're you talkin' about?\n\t\tLet's just finish up this deal\n\t\there -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "had any new vehicles stolen\n\t\toff the lot in the past couple of\n\t\tweeks - specifically a tan Cutlass\n\t\tCiera?\n\n\tJerry stares at her, his mouth open.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Brainerd?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and\n\t\tBabe the Blue Ox.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "ERSON\n\t\tI'm, uh, Jerry Lundegaard -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYou're Jerry Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, Shep Proudfoot said -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tShep said you'd be here at 7:30.\n\t\tWhat gives, man?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tShep said 8:30.\n\n\t\t\t", ", and I shoot 'em all in the\n\t\tback of their little fucking heads.\n\t\tGot it?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, well, you stay away from\n\t\tScotty now -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tGOT IT?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay, real good, then.\n\n\tThe line goes dead.\n\n\tA door slams offscreen.\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE\n\n\tWade, briefcase in hand,", "\tI wonder if I could take just a\n\t\tminute of your time here -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat... What is it all about?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHuh? Do you mind if I sit down\n\t\t- I'm carrying quite a load here.\n\n\tMarge plops into the chair opposite him.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... You're the owner here, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", ". It's\n\t\tall worked out.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou want your own wife kidnapped?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tCarl Stares. Jerry looks blankly back.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You - my point is, you pay\n\t\tthe ransom - what eighty thousand\n\t\tbucks? - I mean, you give us\n\t\thalf the ransom, forty thousand,\n\t\tyou keep half" ], [ "\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tMy patience is at an end.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tGood day, sir.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah.\n\n\tWIDE ON THE CUBICLE\n\n\tWe are looking at Jerry's cubicle from across the showroom.\n\tNoise muted by distance, we watch Jerry slam down the\n\trec", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is at his desk using a blunt pencil to enter numbers\n\tonto a form. Beneath the form is a piece of carbon paper\n\tand beneath that another form copy, which Jerry periodically\n\tchecks. The carbon-copy form shows thick smudgy, illegible\n\tentries.\n\n\tJerry hums nervously.\n\n\tGlass rattles as someone taps at his door.\n\n\tJerry looks up and freezes, mouth hanging open, brow knit\n\twith worry.\n\n\t", "scene is harshly toplit by a hanging\n\tfixture. On the table are the remains of coffee and a\n\tcinammon filbert ring.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit! I wanna be a part a\n\t\tthis thing!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, Wade! They were real clear!\n\t\tThey said they'd call tomorrow,\n\t\twith instructions, and it's gonna\n\t\tbe delivered by me alone!\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tIt'", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, well, see, I did that, and\n\t\tI haven't been able to get 'em,\n\t\tso I thought you maybe'd know an\n\t\talternate number or what have ya.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNope.\n\n\tJerry slaps his fist into his open palm and snaps his\n\tfingers.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay, well, real good, then.\n\n\tCAR\n\n", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", "CUSTOMER\n\t\tThese guys here - these guys!\n\t\tIt's always the same! It's always\n\t\tmore! He's a liar!\n\n\t\t\t\tWIFE\n\t\tPlease, dear.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tWe went over this and over this -\n\n\tNEARBY CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry sits perched on the desk of another salesman who is\n\teating lunch as he watches a hockey game on a small portable\n\tTV.\n\n\t", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "\tand grabbing a pair of galoshes.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... If it's so damned imporant\n\t\tto ya!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI'm sorry, sir, I -\n\n\tJerry has the parka slung over one arm and the galoshes\n\tpinched in his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tAw, what the Christ!\n\n\tHe stamps out the door.\n\n\tMarge stares.\n\n\t", "aked by the shower curtain\n\tbut awkwardly trying to push it off.\n\n\tUPSTAIRS LANDING\n\n\tStill thrashing, Jean crashes against the upstairs railing,\n\ttrips on the curtain and falls, thumping crazily down the\n\tstairs.\n\n\tGrimsrud trots down after her.\n\n\tA PLAQUE: WADE GUSTAFSON INCORPORTATED\n\n\tINT. WADE'S OFFICE\n\n\tWade sits behind his desk; another man rises as Jerry\n", "ling, guns at the\n\tready, jittery camera behind them rushing to keep pace.\n\n\tA man in boxer shorts is halfway out the bathroom window.\n\n\tThe policemen holster their guns and charge the window, and\n\tdrag Jerry Lundegaard back into the room.\n\n\tHis flesh quivers as he thrashes and keens in short,\n\tpiercing screams.\n\n\tThe cops wrestle him to the floor but his palsied thrashing\n\tcontinues. The policemen struggle to restrain him.\n\n\t\t", "pulls out a red plastic scraper\n\tand starts methodically scraping off the thin crust of ice\n\tthat has developed on his windshield.\n\n\tThe scrape-scrape-scrape sound carries in the frigid air.\n\n\tJerry goes into a frenzy, banging the scraper against the\n\twindshield and the hood of his car.\n\n\tThe tantrum passes. Jerry stands pantin, staring at nothing\n\tin particular.\n\n\tScrape-scrape-scrape - he goes back", "... Wade, it's Jerry, I - we\n\t\tgotta talk, Wade, it's terrible...\n\n\tBeat.\n\n\tLIVING ROOM\n\n\tJerry stands in wide shot, hands on hips, looking down at a\n\ttelephone.\n\n\tAfter a motionless beat he picks up the phone and punches in\n\ta number.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, Wade Gustafson, please.\n\n\tBLACK\n\n\tHold in black.\n\n\t", "\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...\n\n\tHe pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,\n\tflings it into his car, gets in, peels out.\n\n\tDOWN RAMP\n\n\tCarl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed\n\tand swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to\n\tthe top.\n\n\tINT. JERRY'S CAR\n\n\tJerry recovers from the", "\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tJEAN\n\t\tIt's Dad.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah...\n\n\tJerry enters in shirtsleeves and tie.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay...\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT\n\t\tLook, Dad, there is no fucking\n\t\tway -\n\n\t\t\t\tJEAN\n\t\tScott!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t", "a\n\tprostrate body.\n\n\tEXT. JERRY'S HOUSE\n\n\tThe car pulls into the driveway.\n\n\tFOYER\n\n\tJerry enters and sits on the foyer chair to take off his\n\tgaloshes.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\t... Dad?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\tStan Grossman called.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, it's pretty darned busy here,\n\t\tbut that's the way we like it.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThat's for sure. Now, I just\n\t\tneed, on these last, these financing\n\t\tdocuments you sent us, I can't\n\t\tread the serial numbers of the\n\t\tvehicles on here, so I -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut I already got the, it's okay,\n\t\tthe loans" ], [ "\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... My fee? Wade, what the\n\t\theck're you talkin' about?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan and I're okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe're good to loan in.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tBut we never talked about your\n\t\tfee for bringin'", "it to us.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, but, Wade, see, I was\n\t\tbringin' you this deal for you\n\t\tto loan me the money to put\n\t\tin. It's my deal here, see?\n\n\tWade scowls, looks at Stan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry - we thought you were\n\t\tbringin' us an investment.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, right -\n\n\t\t\t", "'re not a bank, Jerry.\n\n\tWade is angry.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck, Jerry, if I wanted\n\t\tbank interest on seven hunnert'n\n\t\tfifty thousand I'd go to Midwest\n\t\tFederal. Talk to Bill Diehl.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tHe's at Norstar.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHe's at -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, see, I don'", "ah, but he had a buddy\n\t\tthere. He, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tWell, I don't vouch for him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, I just -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tI vouch for Grimsrud. Who's his\n\t\tbuddy?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tCarl somethin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNever heard of", "\tSTAN\n\t\tYou're sayin' - what're you\n\t\tsayin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYou're sayin' that we put in\n\t\tall the money and you collect\n\t\twhen it pays off?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, no. I - I'd, I'd - pay you\n\t\tback the principal, and interest\n\t\t- heck, I'd go - one over prime -\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWe", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", "him. Don't vouch\n\t\tfor him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, he's a buddy\n\t\tof the guy ya vouched for, so I'm\n\t\tnot worryin'. I just, I was\n\t\twonderin', see, I gotta get in\n\t\ttouch with 'em for, I might not\n\t\tneed it anymore, sumpn's happenin',\n\t\tsee -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tCall 'em up", "\t\tjust read them to me -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut the deal's already done, I\n\t\talready got the money -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, but we have an audit here,\n\t\tI just have to know that these\n\t\tvehicles you're financing with\n\t\tthis money, that they really\n\t\texist.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, well, they exist all right.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tI'm", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "are in place, I already\n\t\tgot the, the what, the -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, the three hundred and twenty\n\t\tthousand dollars, you got the money\n\t\tlast month.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, so we're all set.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, but the vehicles you were\n\t\tborrowing on, I just can't read\n\t\tthe serial numbers on your\n\t\tapplicaton. Maybe if you could\n", "\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, it's pretty darned busy here,\n\t\tbut that's the way we like it.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThat's for sure. Now, I just\n\t\tneed, on these last, these financing\n\t\tdocuments you sent us, I can't\n\t\tread the serial numbers of the\n\t\tvehicles on here, so I -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut I already got the, it's okay,\n\t\tthe loans", "\tenters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin' there, Stan? How\n\t\tare ya, Wade?\n\n\tStan Grossman shakes his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tGood to see ya again, Jerry. If\n\t\tthese numbers are right, this\n\t\tlooks pretty sweet.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, those numbers are all right,\n\t\tbleemee.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tThis is", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "\t\tJerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's, that's, I'm not go\n\t\tinta, inta - see, I just need\n\t\tmoney. Now, her dad's real\n\t\twealthy -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tSo why don't you just ask him\n\t\tfor the money?\n\n\tGrimsrud, the dour man who has not yet spoken, now softly\n\tputs in with a Swedish-accented voice:\n", "\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo kiddin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe might be innarested.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo kiddin'! I'd need the cash\n\t\tpretty quick there. In order\n\t\tto close the deal.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tCome by at 2:30 and we'll talk\n\t\tabout it. If your numbers are\n\t\tright, Stan says its pretty\n\t\tsweet.", "ar!\n\n\tJerry sits staring at his lap.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\t... A fucking liar -\n\n\t\t\t\tWIFE\n\t\tBucky, please!\n\n\tJerry mumbles into his lap:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOne hunnert's the best we can\n\t\tdo here.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOh, for Christ's sake, where's my\n\t\tgoddamn checkbook. Let's" ], [ "are in place, I already\n\t\tgot the, the what, the -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, the three hundred and twenty\n\t\tthousand dollars, you got the money\n\t\tlast month.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, so we're all set.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, but the vehicles you were\n\t\tborrowing on, I just can't read\n\t\tthe serial numbers on your\n\t\tapplicaton. Maybe if you could\n", "\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... My fee? Wade, what the\n\t\theck're you talkin' about?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan and I're okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe're good to loan in.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tBut we never talked about your\n\t\tfee for bringin'", "\t\tjust read them to me -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut the deal's already done, I\n\t\talready got the money -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYeah, but we have an audit here,\n\t\tI just have to know that these\n\t\tvehicles you're financing with\n\t\tthis money, that they really\n\t\texist.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, well, they exist all right.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tI'm", "\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, it's pretty darned busy here,\n\t\tbut that's the way we like it.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThat's for sure. Now, I just\n\t\tneed, on these last, these financing\n\t\tdocuments you sent us, I can't\n\t\tread the serial numbers of the\n\t\tvehicles on here, so I -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBut I already got the, it's okay,\n\t\tthe loans", "it to us.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, but, Wade, see, I was\n\t\tbringin' you this deal for you\n\t\tto loan me the money to put\n\t\tin. It's my deal here, see?\n\n\tWade scowls, looks at Stan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry - we thought you were\n\t\tbringin' us an investment.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, right -\n\n\t\t\t", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "'re not a bank, Jerry.\n\n\tWade is angry.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck, Jerry, if I wanted\n\t\tbank interest on seven hunnert'n\n\t\tfifty thousand I'd go to Midwest\n\t\tFederal. Talk to Bill Diehl.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tHe's at Norstar.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHe's at -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, see, I don'", "ah, but he had a buddy\n\t\tthere. He, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tWell, I don't vouch for him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, I just -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tI vouch for Grimsrud. Who's his\n\t\tbuddy?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tCarl somethin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNever heard of", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "\tSTAN\n\t\tYou're sayin' - what're you\n\t\tsayin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYou're sayin' that we put in\n\t\tall the money and you collect\n\t\twhen it pays off?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, no. I - I'd, I'd - pay you\n\t\tback the principal, and interest\n\t\t- heck, I'd go - one over prime -\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWe", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "\tenters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin' there, Stan? How\n\t\tare ya, Wade?\n\n\tStan Grossman shakes his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tGood to see ya again, Jerry. If\n\t\tthese numbers are right, this\n\t\tlooks pretty sweet.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, those numbers are all right,\n\t\tbleemee.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tThis is", "\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo kiddin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe might be innarested.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo kiddin'! I'd need the cash\n\t\tpretty quick there. In order\n\t\tto close the deal.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tCome by at 2:30 and we'll talk\n\t\tabout it. If your numbers are\n\t\tright, Stan says its pretty\n\t\tsweet.", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "had any new vehicles stolen\n\t\toff the lot in the past couple of\n\t\tweeks - specifically a tan Cutlass\n\t\tCiera?\n\n\tJerry stares at her, his mouth open.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Brainerd?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and\n\t\tBabe the Blue Ox.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "ar!\n\n\tJerry sits staring at his lap.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\t... A fucking liar -\n\n\t\t\t\tWIFE\n\t\tBucky, please!\n\n\tJerry mumbles into his lap:\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOne hunnert's the best we can\n\t\tdo here.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOh, for Christ's sake, where's my\n\t\tgoddamn checkbook. Let's", "him. Don't vouch\n\t\tfor him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, he's a buddy\n\t\tof the guy ya vouched for, so I'm\n\t\tnot worryin'. I just, I was\n\t\twonderin', see, I gotta get in\n\t\ttouch with 'em for, I might not\n\t\tneed it anymore, sumpn's happenin',\n\t\tsee -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tCall 'em up" ], [ ".\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, well, see, I did that, and\n\t\tI haven't been able to get 'em,\n\t\tso I thought you maybe'd know an\n\t\talternate number or what have ya.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNope.\n\n\tJerry slaps his fist into his open palm and snaps his\n\tfingers.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay, well, real good, then.\n\n\tCAR\n\n", "a hydraulic lift. Bewildered, he looks about, then asks\n\ta mechanic passing by, his voice raised over the din of the\n\tshop.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhere's Shep?\n\n\tThe mechanic points.\n\n\t\t\t\tMECHANIC\n\t\tTalkin' to a cop.\n\n\tJerry looks.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Cop?\n\n\tMarge and Shep face each other at the other end of the floor\n\tin", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "ah, but he had a buddy\n\t\tthere. He, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tWell, I don't vouch for him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, I just -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tI vouch for Grimsrud. Who's his\n\t\tbuddy?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tCarl somethin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNever heard of", "him. Don't vouch\n\t\tfor him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, he's a buddy\n\t\tof the guy ya vouched for, so I'm\n\t\tnot worryin'. I just, I was\n\t\twonderin', see, I gotta get in\n\t\ttouch with 'em for, I might not\n\t\tneed it anymore, sumpn's happenin',\n\t\tsee -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tCall 'em up", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", "a grimy and cluttered glassed-in cubicle.\n\n\t\t\t\tMECHANIC\n\t\tSaid she was a policewoman.\n\n\tMarge and Shep silently talk.\n\n\tJerry stares, swallows.\n\n\tINSIDE THE CUBICLE\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t- Wednesday night?\n\n\tShep is shaking his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNope.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, you do reside their at", ". I give you a\n\t\tbrand-new vehicle in advance and -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'm not gonna debate you, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'm not gonna sit here and debate.\n\t\tI will say this though: what Shep\n\t\ttold us didn't make a whole lot\n\t\tof sense.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, no, it's real sound", "ERSON\n\t\tI'm, uh, Jerry Lundegaard -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYou're Jerry Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, Shep Proudfoot said -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tShep said you'd be here at 7:30.\n\t\tWhat gives, man?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tShep said 8:30.\n\n\t\t\t", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "anging his head against the wall.\n\n\tThe hooker runs by, clutching her clothes, and Shep kicks\n\ther in the ass as she passes.\n\n\tHe spins and goes back into the apartment.\n\n\tCarl is hopping desperately into his pants.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tStay away from me, man! Hey!\n\t\tSmoke a fuckin' peace pipe, man!\n\t\tDon't you dare fuckin' - Unghh!\n\n\tAfter hitting him several times, Shep y", "\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tWe been sitting here an hour.\n\t\tI've peed three times already.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tI'm sure sorry. I - Shep told\n\t\tme 8:30. It was a mix-up, I\n\t\tguess.\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYa got the car?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, you bet. It's in the lot\n\t\tthere", "', ya know.\n\t\tMaybe it's all bull, but like you\n\t\tsaid, Stan, they're callin' the\n\t\tshots.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tOkay. And Scotty, is he gonna\n\t\tbe all right?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, geez, Scotty. I'll go talk\n\t\tto him.\n\n\tThere is a tap at the horn from Wade, and Stan gets into the\n\tLincoln.\n\n\t\t\t", "\n\t\t... What're you talking about?\n\n\tA DIRTY BEDROOM\n\n\tCarl is humping the escort.\n\n\tWe hear the door burst open.\n\n\tThe escort is grabbed and flung out of bed.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep! What the hell are you doing?\n\t\tI'm banging that girl! Shep! Jesus\n\t\tCh -\n\n\tShep slaps him hard, forehand, backhand.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHE", "\tenters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin' there, Stan? How\n\t\tare ya, Wade?\n\n\tStan Grossman shakes his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tGood to see ya again, Jerry. If\n\t\tthese numbers are right, this\n\t\tlooks pretty sweet.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, those numbers are all right,\n\t\tbleemee.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tThis is", "a\n\tprostrate body.\n\n\tEXT. JERRY'S HOUSE\n\n\tThe car pulls into the driveway.\n\n\tFOYER\n\n\tJerry enters and sits on the foyer chair to take off his\n\tgaloshes.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\t... Dad?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\tStan Grossman called.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "outta here. Put me back in\n\t\tStillwater. Little fucking shit.\n\n\tThere is a knock at the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHey! Come on in there!\n\n\tShep strides to the door, flings it open.\n\n\tA man in boxer shorts stands in the doorway.\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tC'mon, brother, it's late - Unghh!\n\n\tShep hits him twice, then grabs both of his ears and starts\n\tb", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "P\n\t\tFuck out of my house!\n\n\tHe hauls him up -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep! Don't you dare fucking hit\n\t\tme, man! Don't you -\n\n\t- punches him and flings him away.\n\n\tCarl hits a sofa and we see his bare legs disappear as he\n\tflips back over it.\n\n\tShep enters frame to circle the sofa and kick at Carl behind\n\tit.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tFuck" ], [ "LE\n\n\tHe sits in and picks up his phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJerry Lundegaard.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, you got this\n\t\tphone to yourself?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell ... yah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tKnow who this is?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, yah, I got an idea. How's\n\t\tthat Ciera workin' out", "... The heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'll see you tomorrow.\n\n\tClick.\n\n\tJerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He\n\tangrily snatches it up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tJerome Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Reilly Deif", "on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair\n\twith the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we\n\thear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud\n\tstatic.\n\n\tWe track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette\n\tand expressionlessly gazing offscreen.\n\n\tWe track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old black-\n\tand-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl is\n\tbanging on it as he mutters:\n", ". It's\n\t\tall worked out.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou want your own wife kidnapped?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tCarl Stares. Jerry looks blankly back.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You - my point is, you pay\n\t\tthe ransom - what eighty thousand\n\t\tbucks? - I mean, you give us\n\t\thalf the ransom, forty thousand,\n\t\tyou keep half", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", ". Brand-new burnt umber\n\t\tCiera.\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYeah, okay. Well, siddown then.\n\t\tI'm Carl Showalter and this is\n\t\tmy associate Gaear Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how ya doin'. So, uh, we\n\t\tall set on this thing, then?\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tSure, Jerry, we're all set.", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "to talk either, man. See how\n\t\tyou like it...\n\n\tHe drives.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Total silence...\n\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tHe is on the phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good. How you doin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tPretty good, Mr. Lundegaard.\n\t\tYou're damned hard to get on the\n\t\tphone.\n\n\t\t", "\tI wonder if I could take just a\n\t\tminute of your time here -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat... What is it all about?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHuh? Do you mind if I sit down\n\t\t- I'm carrying quite a load here.\n\n\tMarge plops into the chair opposite him.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... You're the owner here, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", "had any new vehicles stolen\n\t\toff the lot in the past couple of\n\t\tweeks - specifically a tan Cutlass\n\t\tCiera?\n\n\tJerry stares at her, his mouth open.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Brainerd?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and\n\t\tBabe the Blue Ox.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "get this\n\t\tover with.\n\n\tWIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP\n\n\tThere is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and\n\ta motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox\n\tflanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.\n\n\tMOTEL ROOM\n\n\tCarl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds\n\thaving sex with two truck-stop hookers.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh,", "ERSON\n\t\tI'm, uh, Jerry Lundegaard -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYou're Jerry Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, Shep Proudfoot said -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tShep said you'd be here at 7:30.\n\t\tWhat gives, man?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tShep said 8:30.\n\n\t\t\t", "Who's Jean?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tMy wife! What the - how's -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh, Jean's okay. But there's\n\t\tthree people up in Brainerd who\n\t\taren't so okay, I'll tell ya that.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck're you talkin' about?\n\t\tLet's just finish up this deal\n\t\there -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL", "fucking but me, Jerry.\n\t\tI want you with this money on the\n\t\tDayton-Radisson parking ramp, top\n\t\tlevel, thirty minutes, and we'll\n\t\twrap this up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, but, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou're there in thirty minutes or\n\t\tI find you, Jerry, and I shoot\n\t\tyou, and I shoot your fucking wife,\n\t\tand I shoot all your little fucking\n\t\tchildren", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...\n\n\tHe pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,\n\tflings it into his car, gets in, peels out.\n\n\tDOWN RAMP\n\n\tCarl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed\n\tand swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to\n\tthe top.\n\n\tINT. JERRY'S CAR\n\n\tJerry recovers from the", "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "Marge sticks her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard? Sorry to bother\n\t\tyou again. Can I come in?\n\n\tShe starts to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, no, I'm kinda - I'm kinda\n\t\tbusy -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI unnerstand. I'll keep it real\n\t\tshort, then. I'm on my way out\n\t\tof town" ], [ "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "LE\n\n\tHe sits in and picks up his phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJerry Lundegaard.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tAll right, Jerry, you got this\n\t\tphone to yourself?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell ... yah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tKnow who this is?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, yah, I got an idea. How's\n\t\tthat Ciera workin' out", ". Brand-new burnt umber\n\t\tCiera.\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYeah, okay. Well, siddown then.\n\t\tI'm Carl Showalter and this is\n\t\tmy associate Gaear Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how ya doin'. So, uh, we\n\t\tall set on this thing, then?\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tSure, Jerry, we're all set.", "... The heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tI'll see you tomorrow.\n\n\tClick.\n\n\tJerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He\n\tangrily snatches it up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tJerome Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThis is Reilly Deif", "on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair\n\twith the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we\n\thear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud\n\tstatic.\n\n\tWe track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette\n\tand expressionlessly gazing offscreen.\n\n\tWe track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old black-\n\tand-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl is\n\tbanging on it as he mutters:\n", "\tCarl is driving. Grimsrud stares out front.\n\n\tAfter a beat:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Look at that. Twin Cities.\n\t\tIDS Building, the big glass one.\n\t\tTallest skyscraper in the Midwest.\n\t\tAfter the Sears, uh, Chicago...\n\t\tYou never been to Minneapolis?\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Would it", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "get this\n\t\tover with.\n\n\tWIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP\n\n\tThere is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and\n\ta motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox\n\tflanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.\n\n\tMOTEL ROOM\n\n\tCarl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds\n\thaving sex with two truck-stop hookers.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh,", "had any new vehicles stolen\n\t\toff the lot in the past couple of\n\t\tweeks - specifically a tan Cutlass\n\t\tCiera?\n\n\tJerry stares at her, his mouth open.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Brainerd?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and\n\t\tBabe the Blue Ox.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "to talk either, man. See how\n\t\tyou like it...\n\n\tHe drives.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Total silence...\n\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tHe is on the phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, real good. How you doin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tPretty good, Mr. Lundegaard.\n\t\tYou're damned hard to get on the\n\t\tphone.\n\n\t\t", "\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...\n\n\tHe pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,\n\tflings it into his car, gets in, peels out.\n\n\tDOWN RAMP\n\n\tCarl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed\n\tand swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to\n\tthe top.\n\n\tINT. JERRY'S CAR\n\n\tJerry recovers from the", "fucking but me, Jerry.\n\t\tI want you with this money on the\n\t\tDayton-Radisson parking ramp, top\n\t\tlevel, thirty minutes, and we'll\n\t\twrap this up.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, but, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou're there in thirty minutes or\n\t\tI find you, Jerry, and I shoot\n\t\tyou, and I shoot your fucking wife,\n\t\tand I shoot all your little fucking\n\t\tchildren", "Tie here. Big\n\t\tfucking man.\n\n\tHe is peeling off one dollar bills.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You know, these are the limits\n\t\tof your life, man. Ruler of your\n\t\tlittle fucking gate here. There's\n\t\tyour four dollars. You pathetic\n\t\tpiece of shit.\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE\n\n\tJerry is staring up, mouth agape, at the underside of a car\n\ton", "A curtain is stretched tight\n\tacross its window.\n\n\tJean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by\n\tsnow floods in.\n\n\tA man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.\n\n\tJean gasps, drops the curtain, rutns and runs into -\n\n\t- a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.\n\n\tWe hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.\n\n\tThe tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean'", "Who's Jean?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tMy wife! What the - how's -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh, Jean's okay. But there's\n\t\tthree people up in Brainerd who\n\t\taren't so okay, I'll tell ya that.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck're you talkin' about?\n\t\tLet's just finish up this deal\n\t\there -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "ERSON\n\t\tI'm, uh, Jerry Lundegaard -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tYou're Jerry Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, Shep Proudfoot said -\n\n\t\t\t\tYOUNGER MAN\n\t\tShep said you'd be here at 7:30.\n\t\tWhat gives, man?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tShep said 8:30.\n\n\t\t\t", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "ve incurred\n\t\trisks, Jerry. I'm coming into town\n\t\ttomorrow. Have the money ready.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNow we had a deal here! A deal's\n\t\ta deal!\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tIS IT, JERRY? You ask those three\n\t\tpour souls up in Brainerd if a\n\t\tdeal's a deal! Go ahead, ask 'em!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t", "\tI wonder if I could take just a\n\t\tminute of your time here -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat... What is it all about?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHuh? Do you mind if I sit down\n\t\t- I'm carrying quite a load here.\n\n\tMarge plops into the chair opposite him.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... You're the owner here, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY" ], [ "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "a grimy and cluttered glassed-in cubicle.\n\n\t\t\t\tMECHANIC\n\t\tSaid she was a policewoman.\n\n\tMarge and Shep silently talk.\n\n\tJerry stares, swallows.\n\n\tINSIDE THE CUBICLE\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t- Wednesday night?\n\n\tShep is shaking his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNope.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, you do reside their at", "\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSo you think you might remember\n\t\twho those folks were who called\n\t\tya?\n\n\tJERRY'S OFFICE\n\n\tJerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he\n\tlooks up.\n\n\tMarge has stuck her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh? Yah?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t", "a hydraulic lift. Bewildered, he looks about, then asks\n\ta mechanic passing by, his voice raised over the din of the\n\tshop.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhere's Shep?\n\n\tThe mechanic points.\n\n\t\t\t\tMECHANIC\n\t\tTalkin' to a cop.\n\n\tJerry looks.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Cop?\n\n\tMarge and Shep face each other at the other end of the floor\n\tin", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "\tJEAN\n\t\t... Hello?\n\n\t\t\t\tPHONE VOICE\n\t\tYah, hiya, hon.\n\n\t\t\t\tJEAN\n\t\tOh, hiya, Dad.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tJerry around?\n\n\t\t\t\tJEAN\n\t\tYah, he's still here - I'll\n\t\tcatch him for ya.\n\n\tShe holds the phone away and calls:\n\n\t\t\t\tJEAN\n\t\t... Hon?\n\n", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "Who's Jean?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tMy wife! What the - how's -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tOh, Jean's okay. But there's\n\t\tthree people up in Brainerd who\n\t\taren't so okay, I'll tell ya that.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck're you talkin' about?\n\t\tLet's just finish up this deal\n\t\there -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL", "\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tMy patience is at an end.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tGood day, sir.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah.\n\n\tWIDE ON THE CUBICLE\n\n\tWe are looking at Jerry's cubicle from across the showroom.\n\tNoise muted by distance, we watch Jerry slam down the\n\trec", ", but I was just - Do you\n\t\tmind if I sit down? I'm carrying\n\t\ta bit of a load here.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, I -\n\n\tBut she is already sitting into the chair opposite with a\n\tsigh of relieved weight.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, it's this vehicle I asked you\n\t\tabout yesterday. I was just\n\t\twondering -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, like I", "OLIS SUBURBAN HOUSE\n\n\tJerry enters through the kitchen door, in a parka and a red\n\tplaid Elmer Fudd hat. He stamps snow off his feet. He is\n\tcarrying a bag of groceries which he deposits on the kitchen\n\tcounter.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHon? Got the growshries.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThank you, hon. How's Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah", "\tWADE\n\t\t... You little punk.\n\n\tJERRY'S HOUSE\n\n\tJerry sits in the foyer, trying to pull on pair of galoshes.\n\tScotty's voice comes from upstairs:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\t... Dad?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tIt's okay, Scotty.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tBe back in a minute. If", ", real good.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tDad's here.\n\n\tDEN\n\n\tJerry enters, pulling off his plaid cap.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin', Wade?\n\n\tWade Gustafson is mid-sixtyish, vigorous, with a full head\n\tof gray hair. His eyes remain fixed on the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYah, pretty good.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWh", "atcha watchin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tNorstars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Who they playin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tOOOoooh!\n\n\tHis reaction synchronizes with a reaction from the crowd.\n\n\tKITCHEN\n\n\tJerry walks back in, taking off his coat. His wife is\n\tputting on an apron. Jerry nods toward the living room.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t", "had any new vehicles stolen\n\t\toff the lot in the past couple of\n\t\tweeks - specifically a tan Cutlass\n\t\tCiera?\n\n\tJerry stares at her, his mouth open.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Mr. Lundegaard?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Brainerd?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and\n\t\tBabe the Blue Ox.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "... Wade, it's Jerry, I - we\n\t\tgotta talk, Wade, it's terrible...\n\n\tBeat.\n\n\tLIVING ROOM\n\n\tJerry stands in wide shot, hands on hips, looking down at a\n\ttelephone.\n\n\tAfter a motionless beat he picks up the phone and punches in\n\ta number.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, Wade Gustafson, please.\n\n\tBLACK\n\n\tHold in black.\n\n\t", "a\n\tprostrate body.\n\n\tEXT. JERRY'S HOUSE\n\n\tThe car pulls into the driveway.\n\n\tFOYER\n\n\tJerry enters and sits on the foyer chair to take off his\n\tgaloshes.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\t... Dad?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\tStan Grossman called.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "\tand grabbing a pair of galoshes.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... If it's so damned imporant\n\t\tto ya!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI'm sorry, sir, I -\n\n\tJerry has the parka slung over one arm and the galoshes\n\tpinched in his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tAw, what the Christ!\n\n\tHe stamps out the door.\n\n\tMarge stares.\n\n\t", "to work on the\n\twindshield.\n\n\tFRONT DOOR\n\n\tA beat, silent but for a key scraping at the lock.\n\n\tThe door swings open and Jerry edges in, looking about,\n\tholding a sack of groceries.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHon?\n\n\tHe shuts the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Got the growshries...\n\n\tHe has already seen the shower curtain on the floor. He\n\tfrowns" ], [ "it, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHuh?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThe new vehicle, plus forty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but the deal was, the car\n\t\tfirst, see, then the forty\n\t\tthousand, like as if it was the\n\t\transom. I thought Shep told you -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tShep didn't tell us much, Jerry.", ". It's\n\t\tall worked out.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tYou want your own wife kidnapped?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tCarl Stares. Jerry looks blankly back.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You - my point is, you pay\n\t\tthe ransom - what eighty thousand\n\t\tbucks? - I mean, you give us\n\t\thalf the ransom, forty thousand,\n\t\tyou keep half", "\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWhat's the next step here, Jerry?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're gonna call, give me\n\t\tinstructions for a drop. I'm\n\t\tsupposed to have the money ready\n\t\ttomorrow.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tDammit!\n\n\tTHE CASHIER\n\n\tShe rings up two dollars forty.\n\n\t\t\t\tCASHIER\n\t\tHow", "dollars is a lot a damn\n\t\tmoney! And there they are, they\n\t\tgot my daughter!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, but think this thing through\n\t\there, Wade. Ya give 'em what they\n\t\twant, why wont' they let her go?\n\t\tYou gotta listen to me on this one,\n\t\tWade.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tHeck, you don't know! You're just\n\t\twhistlin' Dixie", "\tWell... Why don't we...\n\n\tHe saws a finger under his nose.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t... Stan, I'm thinkin' we should\n\t\toffer 'em half a million.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNow come on here, no way, Wade!\n\t\tNo way!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWe're not horse-trading here, Wade,\n\t\twe just gotta bite the bullet on\n\t\tthis thing.\n\n\t", ". It's like robbing\n\t\tPeter to play Paul, it doesn't\n\t\tmake any -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOkay, it's - see, it's not me\n\t\tpayin' the ransom. The thing is,\n\t\tmy wife, she's wealthy - her dad,\n\t\the's real well off. Now, I'm in\n\t\ta bit of trouble -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tWhat kind of trouble are you in,\n", "\n\tJERRY'S CUBICLE\n\n\tJerry re-enters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, he never done this before,\n\t\tbut seein' as it's special\n\t\tcircumstances and all, he says I\n\t\tcan knock one hunnert off that\n\t\tTruCoat.\n\n\t\t\t\tCUSTOMER\n\t\tOne hundred! You lied to me, Mr.\n\t\tLundegaard. You're a bald-faced\n\t\tli", "arned clear on that, Wade! They\n\t\tsaid you call the cops and we -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWell, a course they're gonna say\n\t\tthat! But where's my protection?\n\t\tThey got Jean here! I give these\n\t\tsons a bitches a million dollars,\n\t\twhere's my guarantee they're gonna\n\t\tlet her go.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, they -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tA million", "\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... My fee? Wade, what the\n\t\theck're you talkin' about?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan and I're okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe're good to loan in.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tBut we never talked about your\n\t\tfee for bringin'", "JERRY\n\t\tWade, have ya had a chance to\n\t\tthink about, uh, that deal I was\n\t\ttalkin' about, those forty acres\n\t\tthere on Wayzata?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYou told me about it.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, you said you'd have a think\n\t\tabout it. I understand it's a\n\t\tlot of money -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tA heck of a lot. What", "'re they doing? Wuddya\n\t\tthink they're doin' with Mom?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tIt's okay, Scotty. They're not\n\t\tgonna want to hurt her any.\n\t\tThese men, they just want money,\n\t\tsee.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT\n\t\tWhat if - what if sumpn goes wrong?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, no, nothin's goin' wrong here.\n\t\tGr", "THE FUCK UP!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, I'm sorry, but I just - I -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tLook. I'm not gonna debate you,\n\t\tJerry. The price is now the whole\n\t\tamount. We want the entire eighty\n\t\tthousand.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, for Chrissakes here -\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tBlood has been shed. We'", ".\n\n\tCarl looks at him.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tHOW THE FUCK DO WE SHPLITTA FUCKIN'\n\t\tCAR? Ya dummy! Widda fuckin'\n\t\tchainshaw?\n\n\tGrimsrud looks sourly up. There is a beat. Finally:\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tOne of us pays the other for half.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tHOLD ON! NO FUCKIN", "\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay, I'll have my girl\n\t\tsend you over a copy, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tOkay, because if I can't correlate\n\t\tthis note with the specific vehicles,\n\t\tthen I gotta call back that money -\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, how much money was that?\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tThree hundred and twenty thousand\n\t\tdollars. See, I gotta correlate\n\t\tthat money with", "\n\t\tBlood has been shed, Jerry.\n\n\tJerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Blood has been shed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhat the heck d'ya mean?\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThree people. In Brainerd.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\tThat's right. And", "\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo kiddin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe might be innarested.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo kiddin'! I'd need the cash\n\t\tpretty quick there. In order\n\t\tto close the deal.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tCome by at 2:30 and we'll talk\n\t\tabout it. If your numbers are\n\t\tright, Stan says its pretty\n\t\tsweet.", "lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, Shep, how ya doin' there?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tMm.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSay, ya know those two fellas\n\t\tya put me in touch with, up\n\t\tthere in Fargo?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tPut you in touch with Grimsrud.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, y", "eighty gran.\n\t\tForty for you...\n\n\tHe makes one pile, pockets the rest.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... Forty for me. Sho thishuzh\n\t\tit. Adiosh.\n\n\tHe slaps keys down on the table.\n\n\t\t\t\tCARL\n\t\t... You c'n'ave my truck. I'm\n\t\ttakin' a Shiera.\n\n\t\t\t\tGRIMSRUD\n\t\tWe split that", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "t need a finder's\n\t\tfee, I need - finder's fee's, what,\n\t\tten percent, heck that's not gonna\n\t\tdo it for me. I need the principal.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry, we're not just going to\n\t\tgive you seven hundred and fifty\n\t\tthousand dollars.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat the heck were you thinkin'?\n\t\tHeck, if I'm only gettin' bank" ], [ " Stan Grossman.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t2:30.\n\n\tClick. Dial tone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, okay.\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLD GARAGE\n\n\tJerry wanders through the service area where cars are being\n\tworked on. He stops by an Indian in blue jeans who is\n\tlooking at the underside of a car that sits on a hydraulic\n\t", "\tenters.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin' there, Stan? How\n\t\tare ya, Wade?\n\n\tStan Grossman shakes his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tGood to see ya again, Jerry. If\n\t\tthese numbers are right, this\n\t\tlooks pretty sweet.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, those numbers are all right,\n\t\tbleemee.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tThis is", "a\n\tprostrate body.\n\n\tEXT. JERRY'S HOUSE\n\n\tThe car pulls into the driveway.\n\n\tFOYER\n\n\tJerry enters and sits on the foyer chair to take off his\n\tgaloshes.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\t... Dad?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT'S VOICE\n\t\tStan Grossman called.\n\n\t\t\t\tJ", "andad and I, we're - we're makin'\n\t\tsure this gets handled right.\n\n\tScott snorfles and sits up.\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT\n\t\tDad, I really think we should call\n\t\tthe cops.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo! We can't let anyone know about\n\t\tthis thing! We gotta play ball with\n\t\tthese guys - you ask Stan Grossman,\n\t\the'll tell ya the same thing!\n\n\t", "cutting a landscape of flat and perfect\n\twhite.\n\n\tEMBERS FAMILY RESTAURANT\n\n\tJerry, Wade, and Stan Grossman sit in a booth, sipping\n\tcoffee. Outside the window, snow falls from a gunmetal sky.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\t- All's I know is, ya got a\n\t\tproblem, ya call a professional!\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo! They said no cops! They were\n\t\td", "\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tOh, yah? Twin Cities?\n\n\tNorm, who has been eating steadily throughout, looks over at\n\tMarge with mild interest. He stares for a beat as he\n\tfinishes chewing, and them swallows and says:\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\t... Oh, yah?\n\n\tKITCHEN OF LUNDEGAARD HOUSE\n\n\tJerry, Wade, and Stan Grossman sit around the kitchen table.\n\tIt is night. The", "', ya know.\n\t\tMaybe it's all bull, but like you\n\t\tsaid, Stan, they're callin' the\n\t\tshots.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tOkay. And Scotty, is he gonna\n\t\tbe all right?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, geez, Scotty. I'll go talk\n\t\tto him.\n\n\tThere is a tap at the horn from Wade, and Stan gets into the\n\tLincoln.\n\n\t\t\t", "Say, let's watch the language -\n\n\tHe takes the phone.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin', Wade?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat's goin' on there?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh, nothing, Wade. How ya doin'\n\t\tthere?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan Grossman looked at your\n\t\tproposal. Says it's pretty\n\t\tsweet.\n\n", "s a chunk, but -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tI thought you were gonna show\n\t\tit to Stan Grossman. He passes\n\t\ton this stuff before it gets\n\t\tkicked up to me.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, you know Stan'll say no\n\t\tdice. That's why you pay him.\n\t\tI'm asking you here, Wade. This\n\t\tcould work out real good for me\n\t\tand Jean and Scotty -\n\n\t\t", "\tSTAN\n\t\tWe'll call.\n\n\tThe Lincoln spits snow as it grinds out of the lot and\n\tfishtails out onto the boulevard.\n\n\tSCOTTY'S BEDROOM\n\n\tScotty lies on the bed, weeping. Jerry enters and perches\n\tuncomfortably on the edge of his bed.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... How ya doin' there, Scotty?\n\n\t\t\t\tSCOTT\n\t\tDad! What", "\t\tWell -\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tWe gotta protect Jean. These -\n\t\twe're not holdin' any cards here,\n\t\tWade, they got all of 'em. So\n\t\tthey call the shots.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYou're darned tootin'!\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tAh, dammit!\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tI'm tellin' ya.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t", ", real good.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tDad's here.\n\n\tDEN\n\n\tJerry enters, pulling off his plaid cap.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHow ya doin', Wade?\n\n\tWade Gustafson is mid-sixtyish, vigorous, with a full head\n\tof gray hair. His eyes remain fixed on the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tYah, pretty good.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWh", "do-able.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tCongratulations, Jerry.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, thanks, Stan, it's a pretty -\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWhat kind of finder's fee were\n\t\tyou looking for?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Huh?\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tThe financials are pretty thorough,\n\t\tso the only thing we don't know\n\t\tis your fee.", "it to us.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tNo, but, Wade, see, I was\n\t\tbringin' you this deal for you\n\t\tto loan me the money to put\n\t\tin. It's my deal here, see?\n\n\tWade scowls, looks at Stan.\n\n\t\t\t\tSTAN\n\t\tJerry - we thought you were\n\t\tbringin' us an investment.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, right -\n\n\t\t\t", "tall man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted\n\tjacket and a hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a\n\tlarge power tool which his body blocks from view.\n\n\tMarge advances.\n\n\tThe man is forcing downward something which engages the\n\troaring power tool and makes harsh spluttering noises.\n\n\tThe man is Grimsrud, his nose red and eyes watering from the\n\tcold, hatflaps pulled down over his ears. His breath steams\n\tas he sourly goes about", "Stan\n\t\tcalls you, just tell him I went\n\t\tto Embers. Oh, geez -\n\n\tThunk! - his first boot goes on.\n\n\tRADISSON\n\n\tMarge sits on the bed in her hotel room, shoes off,\n\tmassaging her feet. The phone is pressed to her ear, and\n\tthrough it, we hear ringing.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\t... Hello?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNorm?\n\n\tMILLE LAC", "\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... My fee? Wade, what the\n\t\theck're you talkin' about?\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tStan and I're okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tWe're good to loan in.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tWADE\n\t\tBut we never talked about your\n\t\tfee for bringin'", "ah, but he had a buddy\n\t\tthere. He, uh -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tWell, I don't vouch for him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWell, that's okay, I just -\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tI vouch for Grimsrud. Who's his\n\t\tbuddy?\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tCarl somethin'?\n\n\t\t\t\tSHEP\n\t\tNever heard of", "\tdon't want to cut you out of the\n\t\tloop, but his here's a good deal.\n\t\tI assume, if you're not innarested,\n\t\tyou won't mind if we move on it\n\t\tindependently.\n\n\tPARKING LOT\n\n\tWe are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.\n\tJerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly\n\tout at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his\n\tcar, opens its front door,", "'s drinkin', so I\n\t\tdon't think a whole great deal of\n\t\tit, but Mrs. Mohra heard about the\n\t\thomicides out here and she thought\n\t\tI should call it in, so I called\n\t\tit in. End a story.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tWhat'd this guy look like anyways?\n\n\t\t\t\tMAN\n\t\tOh, he was a little guy, kinda\n\t\tfunny-lookin'.\n\n\t\t\t\tGARY\n\t\tUh" ], [ ", on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's\n\tvoice, heavily filtered:\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife. This guy says she was\n\t\tkidnapped last Wednesday.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThe day of our homicides.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through\n\tthe bare trees that border the road on a declivity that runs\n\tdown to a large frozen lake.\n", "Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on\n\tthe desk in front of him.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, okay.\n\n\tHe looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down\n\tat the papers. He looks over at the phone.\n\n\the picks up the phone and dials four digits.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t... Yah, gimmee Shep... The\n\t\theck d'ya mean?... Well", "\n\ttoward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance\n\tCorporation.\n\n\tShe looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake.\n\n\tJerry is easing his car around the near corner of the\n\tbuilding.\n\n\tMarge's voice is flat with dismay:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, for Pete's sake...\n\n\tShe grabs the phone and punches", "\t\tI saw him last night and he's -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tWhat'd he say?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, it was nothin' specific\n\t\the said, it just seemd like it\n\t\tall hit him really hard, his\n\t\twife dyin' -\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tHis wife?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tLinda.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t\t", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, just so I can see ya, ya know.\n\t\tDon't have to turn my neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, sure, I unnerstand, I didn't\n\t\tmean to -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tNo, no, that's fine.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, sorry, so I was married to\n\t\tLinda Cooksey - ya remember Linda?\n\t\tShe was a year behind", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tSorry - didn't copy.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tStill missing. We're looking.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tCopy. And Lundegaard too.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah. Where are ya, Margie?\n\n\tWe hear, distant but growing louder, harsh engine noise, as\n\tof a chainsaw or lawnmower.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, I'", "tall man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted\n\tjacket and a hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a\n\tlarge power tool which his body blocks from view.\n\n\tMarge advances.\n\n\tThe man is forcing downward something which engages the\n\troaring power tool and makes harsh spluttering noises.\n\n\tThe man is Grimsrud, his nose red and eyes watering from the\n\tcold, hatflaps pulled down over his ears. His breath steams\n\tas he sourly goes about", "\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tI thought, geez, is that Margie\n\t\tOlmstead? I can't believe it!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah, that's me.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, how the heck are ya?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOkay, ya know. Okay.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah?\n\n", "house.\n\n\tMarge and Norm are watching television in bed. From the TV\n\twe hear insects chirring.\n\n\tAfter a long beat, silence except for the TV, Marge murmurs,\n\tstill looking at the set:\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Well, I'm turnin' in, Norm.\n\n\tAlso looking at the TV:\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\t... Oh, yah?\n\n\tMarge rolls over and Norm continues to watch.\n\n\tWe", "\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah - how are you doon?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tOh, pretty good.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tHeck, it's been such a long time,\n\t\tMike. It's great to hear from ya.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah... Yah, yah. Geeze, Margie!\n\n\tGUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE\n\n\tJerry is on the sales floor, showing", "us.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI think I remember Linda, yah.\n\t\tShe was - yah. So things didn't\n\t\twork out, huh?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tAnd then I, and then I been workin'\n\t\tfor Honeywell for a few years now.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWell, they're a good outfit.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tYah, if you're an engineer, yah,\n", "throat with a long deep rumble.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Oh, my. Where?... Yah...\n\t\tOh, geez...\n\n\tThe man sits up, gazes stupidly about.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... Okay. There in a jif...\n\t\tReal good, then.\n\n\tShe hangs up.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... You can sleep, hon. It's\n\t\tearly yet.\n", "Aw, hon, you're better'n them.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThey're real good.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThey're good, Norm, but you're\n\t\tbetter'n them.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, ya think?\n\n\tHe leans over and kisses her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAh, ya got Arbie's all o'er me.\n\n\tLou enters.\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tGreat. What brings ya down - are\n\t\tya down here on that homicide -\n\t\tif you're allowed, ya know, to\n\t\tdiscuss that?\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh, yah, but there's not a heckuva\n\t\tlot to discuss. What about you,\n\t\tMike? Are you married - you have\n\t\tkids?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tWell, yah, I was married. ", "paunching man of about Marge's age, rising\n\tfrom a booth halfway back. His features are broad,\n\tfriendly, Asian-American.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMike!\n\n\tHe approaches somewhat carefully, as if on his second drink.\n\tThey hug and head back toward the booth.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIKE\n\t\tGeez! You look great!\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tYah - easy there - you do too!\n\t\tI'm expecting, ya know", "NORM\n\t\tYah.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tWhen they're stuck with a bunch a\n\t\tthe old ones!\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah, I guess.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThat's terrific.\n\n\tHer eyes go back to the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\t... I'm so proud a you, Norm.\n\n\tNorm murmurs:\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tI love you,", "Marge sticks her head in the door.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tMr. Lundegaard? Sorry to bother\n\t\tyou again. Can I come in?\n\n\tShe starts to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tYah, no, I'm kinda - I'm kinda\n\t\tbusy -\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tI unnerstand. I'll keep it real\n\t\tshort, then. I'm on my way out\n\t\tof town", "enters frame in a nightie and\n\tclimbs into bed, with some effort.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOooph!\n\n\tNorm reaches for her hand as both watch the television.\n\n\tAt length Norm speaks, but keeps his eyes on the TV.\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tThey announced it.\n\n\tMarge looks at him.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tThey announced it?\n\n\t\t\t\tNORM\n\t\tYah.\n\n\tMarge looks at him,", "s had psychiatric problems.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh. Oh, my.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah, he - he's been struggling.\n\t\tHe's living with his parents now.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tOh. Geez.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE\n\t\tYah, Linda's fine. You should\n\t\tcall her.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tGeez. Well - geez.", "he might go...\n\n\tThe woman is entering frame sliding a tray. Marge enters\n\tbehind her, sliding her own. We move laterally with them as\n\tthey slowly make their way along the line.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tUh-huh.\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tWe called his house; his little\n\t\tboy said he hadn't been there.\n\n\t\t\t\tMARGE\n\t\tAnd his wife?\n\n\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n\t\tShe'" ] ]

[ "Why does Jerry need money?", "How many people did the kidnappers kill on their way to their hideout?", "What condition is Police Chief Marge Gunderson in?", "How much money does Jerry tell Gustafson the kidnappers are demanding?", "Who kills Gustafson?", "Gaear kills jean but who kills Carl?", "Why does Gaear kill Carl?", "What is the subject of Norm's painting?", "How many people are dead by the end of the story?", "Why does Jerry need money?", "How much money was in the briefcase for the ransom?", "Why does Gaear kill Carl?", "What season of the year does this story take place in?", "Who is Marge?", "What is the connection between Marge and Yanagita?", "How does Marge find out that Yanagita's \"dead wife\" is not dead and was never his wife?", "What did Jerry hire Carl and Gaear to do?", "What is Jerry desperate for?", "Who gave Jerry the loan he fraudulently collateralized?", "What did Jerry use to fraudulently collateralize the loan?", "Who does Shep refer Jerry to?", "Who does Jerry hire Gaear and Carl to kidnap?", "In what city does Jerry hire Gaear and Carl?", "What is Jerry's wife's name?", "How much is the ransom Jerry promises to split?", "What is Stan Grossman's profession?", "Who is Marge's husband?" ]

[ [ "He needs to pay back a fraudulent loan.", "He needs to repay a loan" ], [ "3; police officer and 2 eye witnesses", "Three" ], [ "She's pregnant.", "seven months pregnant" ], [ "A Million dollars.", "One million dollars." ], [ "Carl.", "Carl Showalter." ], [ "Gaear kills him as well.", "Gaear" ], [ "Gaear wants to keep the new car they were given.", "To get the money" ], [ "A duck.", "Mallard" ], [ "Six", "3" ], [ "There is repayment due on a large GMAC loan he took out", "to pay off a loan" ], [ "1 million dollars", "$1 million" ], [ "He kills Carl in an argument over who can have the new car Jerry gave them", "refuses to hand over briefcase" ], [ "Winter", "Winter" ], [ "The Brainerd police chief", "Brainerd police chief" ], [ "They are old classmates", "They are old classmates." ], [ "Through a phone call with a mutual friend", "phone conversation" ], [ "To kidnap his wife for ransom from his father-in-law", "Kidnap his wife" ], [ "money", "money" ], [ "GMAC", "GMAC" ], [ "non-existent dealership vehicles", "Nonexistent Dealership Vehicles" ], [ "Gaear", "Gaear Grimsrud." ], [ "his wife", "His wife" ], [ "Fargo", "Fargo, North Dakota." ], [ "Jean", "Jean" ], [ "$80,000", "80,000 Dollars" ], [ "accountant", "An accountant" ], [ "Norm", "Norm" ] ]

[ [ "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "of them and\npolite attention, and the Royal Messenger said he was pleased that the\nKing had permitted him to serve them. They also thanked the green-robed\nGuardian of the Entrance, and then, accompanied by Policeman Bluejay,\nthey quitted the golden tree and began their journey back to the\nforest.\n\nIt was no trouble at all to return. The wind caught their wings and\nblew against them strongly, so that they had but to sail before the\nbreeze and speed along until they were deep in the forest again. Then\nthe", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "Y PALACE\nTHE BATTLE\n\"IT'S ALMOST DARK. LET'S GO HOME\"\n\n\n[CHAPTER I] _Little Ones in Trouble_\n\n\"SEEMS to me, Chub,\" said Twinkle, \"that we're lost.\"\n\n\"Seems to me, Twink,\" said Chubbins, \"that it isn't _we_ that's lost.\nIt's the path.\"\n\n\"It was here a minute ago,\" declared Twinkle.\n\n\"But it isn't", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "and\nChubbins was not long in following her example.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IX] _The Destroyers_\n\nA loud shouting and a bang that echoed like a clap of thunder through\nthe forest awoke the bird-children from their dreams.\n\nOpening their eyes with a start they saw that the gray dawn was\nbreaking and a sort of morning twilight made all objects in the forest\ndistinct, yet not so brilliant as the approaching daylight would.\nShadows still lay among the bushes and the thickest branches; but\nbetween the", "the forest are good parents, helpful neighbors, and faithful friends.\nWhat better than this could be said of us?\"\n\n\"Nothing, I'm sure, if it is true,\" replied the girl.\n\n\"Over in the Land of Paradise,\" continued the owl, thoughtfully, \"the\nbirds are not obliged to take life in order to live themselves; so they\ncall us savage and fierce. But I believe our natures are as kindly as\nthose of the Birds of Paradise.\"\n\n\"Where is this Land of Paradise you speak of?\" asked Tw", "to find us with birds' bodies?\"\n\n\"They'd yell and run,\" declared the boy.\n\n\"Then,\" said she, \"we must find the tingle-berries.\"\n\nThe bluejay flew with them to some bushes which he said were the kind\nthe tingle-berries grew upon, but they were all bare and not a single\nberry could be found.\n\n\"There must be more not far away,\" said the policeman, encouragingly.\n\"Let us look about us.\"\n\nThey found several clumps of the bushes, to be sure; but", "talked for an hour, and Wisk told them stories of the\nforest, and of the many queer animals and birds that lived there. It\nwas all very interesting to the children, and they listened eagerly\nuntil they heard a rushing sound in the air that sent Wisk scurrying\nback into his hole.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IV] _An Afternoon Reception_\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins stretched their little necks to see what was\ncoming, and a moment later beheld one of the most gorgeous sights the\nforest affords--a procession", "once and seek the tingle-berry;\nbut they could not be so impolite as to run away just then, for the\nKing announced that he had prepared an entertainment in their honor.\n\nSo they sat on a branch of the golden bush beside their friend Ephel,\nwhile at a nod from the King a flock of the beautiful Birds of Paradise\nflew into the bower and proceeded to execute a most delightful and\nbewildering set of aerial evolutions. They flew swiftly in circles,\nspirals, triangles, and solid squares, and all", "unfortunately\nno berries were now growing upon them, and at each failure the children\ngrew more and more sad and despondent.\n\n\"If we have to wait until the bushes bear again,\" Twinkle remarked, \"it\nwill be nearly a year, and I'm sure we can't live in the forest all\nwinter.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" asked the policeman.\n\n\"The food in our basket would all be gone, and then we would starve to\ndeath,\" was the reply. \"We can't eat bugs and worms, you know.\"", "their breaths, but before this\nhappened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at\nthe sight that met their eyes.\n\nBefore them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but\nhaving trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite\nmetallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers,\nexceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked\nupon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then\nsang a song so sweet", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "go home, for our folks would be scared nearly into\nfits. And we don't know the way home, either.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" said Chubbins, fluttering his little wings to keep from\nfalling, for he had nearly lost his balance.\n\n\"What shall we do?\" she continued.\n\n\"Why, fly around and be gay and happy,\" said a clear and merry voice\nbeside them. \"That's what birds are expected to do!\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER II] _The Forest Guardian_\n\nTwinkle", "Beauty Dance.\"\n\n\"I should like to see that glade,\" said Twinkle, who was determined to\nlet nothing escape her that she could possibly see.\n\n\"You shall,\" answered Ephel, promptly. \"We will fly there at once.\"\n\nSo he led the way and presently they entered a thicker grove of trees\nthan any they had before noticed. The trunks were so close together\nthat the birds could only pass between then in single file, but as they\nproceeded in this fashion it was not long before they came to a\ncircular space which the", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n" ], [ "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "it! Don't believe it!\" cried a high, clear voice, and\nboth the boy and the girl looked quickly around to see who had spoken.\nBut no one besides themselves was in sight, and they only noticed a\nthick branch of one of the trees slightly swaying its leaves.\n\n\"What is a tuxix?\" asked Twinkle, who was beginning to feel sorry for\nthe poor creature.\n\n\"It is a magician, a sorcerer, a wizard, and a witch all rolled into\none,\" was the answer; \"and you can imagine what a dreadful", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "thing that\nwould be.\"\n\n\"Be careful!\" cried the clear voice, again. \"It is the tuxix herself\nwho is talking to you. Don't believe a word you hear!\"\n\nAt this the red eyes of the creature flashed fire with anger, and it\ntried to turn its clumsy body around to find the speaker. Twinkle and\nChubbins looked too, but only heard a flutter and a mocking laugh\ncoming from the trees.\n\n\"If I get my eye on that bird, it will never speak again,\" exclaimed\nthe", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "old tuxix put upon you, then nothing else\nwill answer the same purpose. The Royal Necromancer is very wise, and\nyou may depend upon what he says. But it is late, at this season, for\ntingle-berries. They do not grow at all times of the year, and we may\nnot be able to find any upon the bushes.\"\n\n\"Cannot we go at once and find out?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"To be sure. It will grieve me to lose you, my little friends, but I\nwant to do what will give", "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above", "the branch.\n\nSeveral beautiful humming-birds were poised in the air above this\ngathering, their bodies being motionless but their tiny wings\nfluttering so swiftly that neither Twinkle nor Chubbins could see them\nat all.\n\nPoliceman Bluejay, having finally introduced all the company to the\nchild-larks, began to relate the story of their adventures, telling the\nbirds how the wicked tuxix had transformed them into the remarkable\nshapes they now possessed.\n\n\"For the honor of our race,\" he said,", "shape, and cease to be a\nbird?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, if I could,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Then I will tell you how to do it,\" said the King. \"Since you told me\nyour strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a\ngood deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who\nwickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells\nme that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume\nyour natural form again. For", "it is the one antidote in all the world\nfor the charm the tuxix worked upon you.\"\n\n\"What _is_ a tingle-berry?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously, for this\ninformation interested her as much as it did Chubbins.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the King, \"for it is a common forest berry, and\nnever grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble\nin finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside\nworld.\"\n\nThe children were both eager to go at", ", he ate the berry as greedily as if he was\nfond of a stomache-ache.\n\nThe second berry had a good effect in one way, for Chubbins' wings\nquickly became arms, and he was now as perfectly formed as he had been\nbefore he met with the cruel tuxix. But he gave a groan, every once in\na while, and Twinkle suspected that two berries were twice as powerful\nas one, and made a pain that lasted twice as long.\n\nAs the boy and girl looked around they were astonished to find their", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "cruel and wicked. The children could not see how many legs\nit had, but they must have been very short, because the creature moved\nso slowly over the ground.\n\nWhen it had drawn near to them it said, in a pleading tone that sounded\nsoft and rather musical:\n\n\"Little girl, pick me up in your arms, and pet me!\"\n\nTwinkle shrank back.\n\n\"My! I couldn't _think_ of doing such a thing,\" she answered.\n\nThen the creature said:\n\n\"Little boy, please pick me up in your", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "'re smaller,\" replied Chubbins.\n\n\"But birds shouldn't have human heads,\" retorted the bluejay. \"I\nsuppose the old tuxix did that so the birds would not admit you into\ntheir society, for you are neither all bird nor all human. But never\nmind; I'll explain your case, and you may be sure all the birds of the\nforest will be kind to you.\"\n\n\"Must we stay like this always?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"I really can't say,\" answered the policeman. \"", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "once and seek the tingle-berry;\nbut they could not be so impolite as to run away just then, for the\nKing announced that he had prepared an entertainment in their honor.\n\nSo they sat on a branch of the golden bush beside their friend Ephel,\nwhile at a nod from the King a flock of the beautiful Birds of Paradise\nflew into the bower and proceeded to execute a most delightful and\nbewildering set of aerial evolutions. They flew swiftly in circles,\nspirals, triangles, and solid squares, and all" ], [ "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "he went he seemed to grow\nvery small, and to change in shape.\n\n\"Wait!\" she cried. \"I'm coming, too!\"\n\nShe was afraid of losing Chubbins, so she flew after him, feeling\nrather queer herself, and a moment after was safe in the tall tree,\nclinging with her toes to a branch and looking in amazement at the boy\nwho sat beside her.\n\nChubbins had been transformed into a pretty little bird--all, that is,\nexcept his head, which was Chubbins' own head reduced in", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "cruel and wicked. The children could not see how many legs\nit had, but they must have been very short, because the creature moved\nso slowly over the ground.\n\nWhen it had drawn near to them it said, in a pleading tone that sounded\nsoft and rather musical:\n\n\"Little girl, pick me up in your arms, and pet me!\"\n\nTwinkle shrank back.\n\n\"My! I couldn't _think_ of doing such a thing,\" she answered.\n\nThen the creature said:\n\n\"Little boy, please pick me up in your", "oth of them had to cling fast to the branch with their toes, for their\narms and hands were now wings. The toes were long and sharp pointed, so\nthat they could be used in the place of fingers.\n\n\"My!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"you're a queer sight, Chubbins!\"\n\n\"So are you,\" answered the boy. \"That mean old thing must have 'witched\nus.\"\n\n\"Yes, we're 'chanted,\" said Twinkle. \"And now, what are we going to do\nabout it? We can't", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", "as the dining-table at home.\n\n\"All the better for us,\" said Twinkle, bending her head down to nibble\nat the edge of the cookie.\n\n\"If we're going to be birds,\" said Chubbins, who was also busily eating\nas best he could, \"we ought to be reg'lar birds, and have bills to peck\nwith. This being half one thing and half another doesn't suit me at\nall.\"\n\n\"The witch wasn't trying to suit us,\" replied Twinkle; \"she was trying\nto get", "the branch.\n\nSeveral beautiful humming-birds were poised in the air above this\ngathering, their bodies being motionless but their tiny wings\nfluttering so swiftly that neither Twinkle nor Chubbins could see them\nat all.\n\nPoliceman Bluejay, having finally introduced all the company to the\nchild-larks, began to relate the story of their adventures, telling the\nbirds how the wicked tuxix had transformed them into the remarkable\nshapes they now possessed.\n\n\"For the honor of our race,\" he said,", "tearing her four\nbabies limb from limb!\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" whispered Twinkle, her little heart beating as\nviolently as if the dread destroyers had always been her mortal\nenemies.\n\n\"Just below us. Isn't it dreadful? We had such a nice night together,\nand Mrs. 'Possum was so sweet and loving in caring for her little ones\nand feeding them! And, just as we were nearly home again, the dogs\nsprang upon my friend and the men shot her dead. We had not even\nsus", ".\"\n\n\"This,\" said Policeman Bluejay, \"is the important official called the\nGuardian of the Entrance of Paradise. Sir Guardian, permit me to\nintroduce to you two children of men who have been magically\ntransformed into skylarks against their will. They are not quite birds,\nbecause their heads retain the human shape; but whatever form they may\nbear, their natures are sweet and innocent and I deem them worthy to\nassociate for a brief time with your splendid and regal race. Therefore\nI have brought them here to", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "thing that\nwould be.\"\n\n\"Be careful!\" cried the clear voice, again. \"It is the tuxix herself\nwho is talking to you. Don't believe a word you hear!\"\n\nAt this the red eyes of the creature flashed fire with anger, and it\ntried to turn its clumsy body around to find the speaker. Twinkle and\nChubbins looked too, but only heard a flutter and a mocking laugh\ncoming from the trees.\n\n\"If I get my eye on that bird, it will never speak again,\" exclaimed\nthe", "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "they are gentle and\ninnocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both.\"\n\n\"They are certainly very curious,\" remarked the King, staring at the\nhuman heads upon the lark bodies. \"May I ask you, little strangers, how\nyou happen to exist in your present form?\"\n\nTwinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that\nhad fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story\nof their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of\nParadise present listened", "\n\n\"Pir-r-r-r--eep--cheep--tweet!\"\n\n\"What in the world can you do?\" asked the girl, quite distressed. \"It\nwill be just dreadful if you have to stay like that.\"\n\nThe tears came to Chubbins' eyes. He tried to restrain them, but could\nnot. He flapped his little wings dolefully and said:\n\n\"I wish I was either one thing or the other! I'd rather be a child-lark\nagain, and nest in a tree, than to", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "'re smaller,\" replied Chubbins.\n\n\"But birds shouldn't have human heads,\" retorted the bluejay. \"I\nsuppose the old tuxix did that so the birds would not admit you into\ntheir society, for you are neither all bird nor all human. But never\nmind; I'll explain your case, and you may be sure all the birds of the\nforest will be kind to you.\"\n\n\"Must we stay like this always?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"I really can't say,\" answered the policeman. \"" ], [ "It is the nature of owls to be kind and sympathetic. Those\nwho do not know us very well say harsh things about us, because we fly\nin the night, when most other birds are asleep, and sleep in the\ndaytime when most other birds are awake.\"\n\n\"Why do you do that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Because the strong light hurts our eyes. But, although we are abroad\nin the night, we seek only our natural prey, and obey the Great Law of\nthe forest more than some others do.\"\n\n\"What is the Great Law?\"", "enquired Twinkle, curiously.\n\n\"Love. It is the moral law that is above all laws made by living\ncreatures. The whole forest is ruled by love more than it is by fear.\nYou may think this is strange when you remember that some animals eat\nbirds, and some birds eat animals, and the dreadful creeping things eat\nus both; but nevertheless we are so close to Nature here that love and\ntenderness for our kind influences us even more than it does mankind--\nthe careless and unthinking race from which you came. The residents of\n", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "he makes them all\nafraid to disobey the laws. He's a wonderful fellow, that Policeman\nBluejay, and even we squirrels are glad he is in the forest.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Well, we also fear some of the birds,\" answered Wisk. \"The lady in the\nthird flat, for instance, Mrs. Hootaway, is said to like a squirrel for\na midnight meal now and then, when mice and beetles are scarce. It is\nalmost her hour for w", "bins, indignantly. \"What right\nhad they to come to the forest and kill the pretty owl, and the dear\nlittle squirrel, and the poor mama 'possum and her babies?\"\n\n\"They had the right of power,\" said the eagle, calmly. \"It would be a\nbeautiful world were there no destroyers of life in it; but the earth\nand air and water would then soon become so crowded that there would\nnot be room for them all to exist. Don't blame the men.\"\n\n\"But they are cruel,\" said", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "the forest are good parents, helpful neighbors, and faithful friends.\nWhat better than this could be said of us?\"\n\n\"Nothing, I'm sure, if it is true,\" replied the girl.\n\n\"Over in the Land of Paradise,\" continued the owl, thoughtfully, \"the\nbirds are not obliged to take life in order to live themselves; so they\ncall us savage and fierce. But I believe our natures are as kindly as\nthose of the Birds of Paradise.\"\n\n\"Where is this Land of Paradise you speak of?\" asked Tw", "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "forest again and went among the birds to call them all to a\nmeeting. They obeyed the summons without delay, and were very indignant\nwhen they heard of the rebellion of the rooks and the insults that had\nbeen heaped upon their regularly elected officer. Judge Bullfinch\narrived with his head bandaged with soft feathers, for he had met the\nrook policeman and, when he remonstrated, had been severely pounded by\nthe wicked bird's club.\n\n\"But what can we do?\" he asked. \"The rooks", "\nby being naughty.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman. \"They know very well that I will\nnot stand any nonsense, and will always insist that the laws be\nobeyed.\"\n\nThey were now approaching that part of the forest where they lived, and\nas the policeman concluded his speech they were surprised to hear a\ngreat flutter of wings among the trees, and presently a flock of big\nblack rooks flew toward them.\n\nAt the head of the band was a saucy-looking fellow who wore upon his\nhead a policeman's", "of them and\npolite attention, and the Royal Messenger said he was pleased that the\nKing had permitted him to serve them. They also thanked the green-robed\nGuardian of the Entrance, and then, accompanied by Policeman Bluejay,\nthey quitted the golden tree and began their journey back to the\nforest.\n\nIt was no trouble at all to return. The wind caught their wings and\nblew against them strongly, so that they had but to sail before the\nbreeze and speed along until they were deep in the forest again. Then\nthe", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "because\nhe was seriously thinking; \"I have a plan for subduing these rebels,\nand it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long\njourney to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but\nmeet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be\nsure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we\nmust insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to\nthese rooks.\"\n\nWith these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly", ",\" he said to the rook, \"and\nlet them decide between us.\"\n\n\"That won't do any good,\" was the reply. \"We rooks have decided the\nmatter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,\nor all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them\nto serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?\"\n\n\"I'll think it over,\" said Policeman Bluejay.\n\n\"Oho! oho! He's", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "? And they talk to us. At least, the\np'liceman and the eagle did.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" answered Twinkle, \"and I don't understand it a bit. I\nmust ask Mr. Bluejay to 'splain it to us.\"\n\n\"What's the use of a p'liceman in the forest?\" asked Chubbins, after a\nmoment's thought.\n\n\"I suppose,\" she replied, \"that he has to keep the birds from being\nnaughty. Some birds are just awful mischiefs, Ch", "\"Also Policeman Bluejay found his grandfather's mummy in this room, and\nthe stuffed mummies of many other friends he had known in the forest.\nSo he was very sorrowful when he returned to us, and from that time we\nhave feared the heartless men more than ever.\"\n\n\"It's a sad story,\" sighed Twinkle, \"and I've no doubt it is a true\none. But all men are not so bad, I'm sure.\"\n\n\"All men who enter the forest are,\" answered the oriole, positively", "\nLike all blustering, evil-disposed people, when they found themselves\nconquered they whined and humbled themselves before the victors and\ndeclared they would never again rebel against Policeman Bluejay, the\nregularly appointed guardian of the Law of the Forest. And I am told\nthat after this day the rooks, who are not rightly forest birds, betook\nthemselves to the nearest villages and farm houses, and contented\nthemselves with plaguing mankind, who could not revenge themselves as\neasily as the birds did", "notice; but I am wise enough to\nunderstand that you are very unusual and wonderful little creatures,\nand if at any time I can serve you further, you have but to call me,\nand I will do what I can for you.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" replied Twinkle, who realized that the great\nbird had acted more gently toward them than it is the nature of his\nwild race to do.\n\nThey had just reached the edge of the forest again when they saw a bird\napproaching them at a great speed, and soon it came near enough for\nthem to see", "the meeting\nat the Judgment Tree. Let's hurry, Chub.\"\n\nThey ate a hasty breakfast from the contents of their basket, and after\nflying to the brook for a drink and a dip in the cool water they\nhurried toward the Judgment Tree.\n\nThere they found a vast assemblage of birds. They were so numerous,\nindeed, that Twinkle was surprised to find that so many of them\ninhabited the forest.\n\nBut a still greater surprise was in store for her, for immediately she\ndiscovered sitting upon the biggest" ], [ "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "But, even as she spoke, the words sounded in her own ears strange and\nunnatural, and more like the chirping of a bird than the language of\nmen. The hunter either did not hear her or he did not understand her,\nand the dog snarled and bared its wicked teeth as it sprang greedily\nupon the child-lark.\n\nTwinkle was too terrified to move. She glared upon the approaching\nmonster helplessly, and it had almost reached her when a black object\nfell from the skies with the swiftness of a lightning", "for the innocent victims I befriended them,\nand as this basket belongs to them I have asked you to fetch it to\ntheir nest.\"\n\n\"I am glad to be of service,\" replied the eagle. \"If ever you need me,\nand I am anywhere around,\" he continued, addressing the larks, \"just\ncall me, and I will come at once.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Twinkle, gratefully.\n\n\"We're much obliged,\" added Chubbins.\n\nThen the eagle flew away, and when he was gone Polic", "suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts\nof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.\n\nBut either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to\nbother the little child-larks.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_\n\nThe next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky\nwas a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the\ntrees. Even before Twinkle and Chubbins were awake the birds were\ncall", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around", "air and Twinkle darted after him, while\nChubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time\nto escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.\n\nThe inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what\nwas happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his\nbreast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his\nagonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An\ninstant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and", "streak and struck\nthe dog's back, tearing the flesh with its powerful talons and driving\na stout, merciless beak straight through the skull of the savage brute.\n\nThe dog, already dead, straightened out and twitched convulsively. The\nman shouted angrily and sprang upon the huge bird that had slain his\npet, at the same time swinging his gun like a club.\n\n\"Quick!\" said the eagle to Twinkle, \"mount with me as swiftly as you\ncan.\"\n\nWith the words he rose into the", ". Slowly she sank to the ground and fell upon the\nearth with a dull sound that was dreadful to hear.\n\nInstantly Twinkle darted from the nest and swooped downward, alighting\non the ground beside the owl's quivering body. A big dog came bounding\ntoward her. The man was reloading his gun, a few paces away.\n\n\"Call off your dog!\" shouted Twinkle, wildly excited. \"How dare you\nshoot the poor, harmless birds? Call off your dog, I say!\"\n\n", "\nbeneath them.\n\n\"Oh-h-h!\" wailed Mrs. Hootaway, fluttering violently beside them. \"They\nstruck me that time--the bullet is in my heart. Good-bye, my dears.\nRemember that--all--is love; all is--love!\"\n\nHer voice died away to a whisper, and she toppled from the limb.\nTwinkle and Chubbins tried to save their dying friend from falling, but\nthe gray owl was so much bigger than they that they could not support\nthe weight of her body", "little ones.\"\n\n\"Chubbins and I have 'dopted the goldfinches,\" said Twinkle, \"so we will\nlook after them now. But it was very nice of you, Mrs. Redbreast, to\ntake take care of them until we arrived.\"\n\n\"Well, I like to be neighborly,\" returned the pretty bird; \"and as long\nas cruel men enter our forest no mother can tell how soon her own\nlittle ones will be orphaned and left helpless.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman, nodding gravely.\n", "Yes, indeed!\" cried Twinkle; \"if you will be kind enough to let us.\"\n\n\"It will be a great pleasure to me,\" said the eagle. \"Follow me\nclosely, please.\"\n\nHe began flying again, and they kept at his side. By and by they\nnoticed a bright, rosy glow coming from a portion of the forest beneath\nthem.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"It is the place called the Paradise of Birds,\" answered their\nconductor. \"It is said to be the most beautiful", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n", "thing that\nwould be.\"\n\n\"Be careful!\" cried the clear voice, again. \"It is the tuxix herself\nwho is talking to you. Don't believe a word you hear!\"\n\nAt this the red eyes of the creature flashed fire with anger, and it\ntried to turn its clumsy body around to find the speaker. Twinkle and\nChubbins looked too, but only heard a flutter and a mocking laugh\ncoming from the trees.\n\n\"If I get my eye on that bird, it will never speak again,\" exclaimed\nthe", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "He spoke in such a kindly and confident voice that both Twinkle and\nChubbins gained courage; and when the policeman added: \"Come on!\" and\nflew straight as an arrow into the air above the tree-tops, the two\nlittle skylarks with their girl and boy heads followed swiftly after\nhim, and had no trouble in going just as fast as their conductor.\n\nIt was quite a pleasant and interesting experience, to dart through the\nair and be in no danger of falling. When they rested on their\noutstretched wings they floated as", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which" ], [ "because\nhe was seriously thinking; \"I have a plan for subduing these rebels,\nand it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long\njourney to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but\nmeet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be\nsure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we\nmust insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to\nthese rooks.\"\n\nWith these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly", "as man; therefore he is the\ngreatest destroyer in the world. But he is not alone in his murderous,\ndespoiling instinct. While you rail at man, my friends, do not forget\nthat birds are themselves the greatest enemies of birds.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" cried the magpie, indignantly.\n\n\"Perhaps the less you say about this matter the better,\" declared the\nbluejay, swinging his club in a suggestive manner, and looking sharply\nat the magpie.\n\n\"It's a slander,\" said the blackbird.", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "to the rooks,\" said a little\nchickadee, anxiously. \"We are neither warriors nor prizefighters, and\nif we obey our new rulers they may leave us in peace.\"\n\n\"No, indeed!\" cried a linnet. \"If we submit to them they will think we\nare afraid, and will treat us cruelly. I know the nature of these\nrooks, and believe they can only be kept from wickedness by a power\nstronger than their own.\"\n\n\"Hear me, good friends,\" said the bluejay, who had been silent", "fastened around\nthe policeman's wing with a cord, so that it could not get away when he\nwas flying.\n\nThe birds were of many sizes and of various colorings. Some were much\nlarger than the bluejay, but none seemed so proud or masterful, and all\ndeferred meekly to the commands of the acknowledged guardian of the\nforest.\n\nOne by one the pretty creatures alighted upon the limbs of the tree,\nand the first thing they all did was to arrange their feathers properly\nafter their rapid flight. Then the bluej", "\nLike all blustering, evil-disposed people, when they found themselves\nconquered they whined and humbled themselves before the victors and\ndeclared they would never again rebel against Policeman Bluejay, the\nregularly appointed guardian of the Law of the Forest. And I am told\nthat after this day the rooks, who are not rightly forest birds, betook\nthemselves to the nearest villages and farm houses, and contented\nthemselves with plaguing mankind, who could not revenge themselves as\neasily as the birds did", "can tell you! If you do as I command,\nyou'll get along all right; if you don't, I'll pound you with your own\nclub until you obey.\"\n\nAgain the rooks screamed in an admiring chorus of delight, and when the\nbluejay observed their great numbers, and that they were all as large\nas he was, and some even larger and stronger, he decided not to risk an\nopen fight with them just then, but to take time to think over what had\nbest be done.\n\n\"I will call the other birds to a meeting", "are a very powerful tribe,\nand the magpies and cuckoos and blackbirds are liable to side with\nthem, if they seem to be stronger than we are.\"\n\n\"We might get all our people together and fall upon them in a great\narmy, and so defeat them,\" suggested an oriole.\n\n\"The trouble with that plan,\" decided the judge, \"is that we can only\ndepend upon the smaller birds. The big birds might desert us, and in\nthat case we would be badly beaten.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it will be better to submit", ", and some so rugged and strong that it seemed\nstrange they would submit to the orders of the officer of the law. But\nthe policeman kept a sharp watch upon these birds, to see that they\nattempted no mischievous pranks, and they must have been afraid of him\nbecause they behaved very well after the saucy raven had left them.\nEven the chattering magpies tried to restrain their busy tongues, and\nthe blackbirds indulged in no worse pranks than to suddenly spread\ntheir wings and try to push the pigeons off", "forget the women,\" said Twinkle. \"It's the women that wear birds\nin their hats.\"\n\n\"Mankind,\" said Robin Redbreast, gravely, \"is the most destructive and\nbloodthirsty of all the brute creation. They not only kill for food,\nbut through vanity and a desire for personal adornment. I have even\nheard it said that they kill for amusement, being unable to restrain\ntheir murderous desires. In this they are more cruel than the\nserpents.\"\n\n\"There is some excuse for", ", the latter appearing\nsleepy because, they explained, they had been out late the night\nbefore.\n\nThese smaller birds all sat in rows on the limbs beside Twinkle and\nChubbins; but seated upon the stouter limbs facing them were rows of\nbigger birds who made the child-larks nervous by the sharp glances from\ntheir round, bright eyes. Here were blackbirds, cuckoos, magpies,\ngrosbeaks and wood-pigeons, all nearly as big and fierce-looking as\nPoliceman Bluejay himself", "forest again and went among the birds to call them all to a\nmeeting. They obeyed the summons without delay, and were very indignant\nwhen they heard of the rebellion of the rooks and the insults that had\nbeen heaped upon their regularly elected officer. Judge Bullfinch\narrived with his head bandaged with soft feathers, for he had met the\nrook policeman and, when he remonstrated, had been severely pounded by\nthe wicked bird's club.\n\n\"But what can we do?\" he asked. \"The rooks", ",\" he said to the rook, \"and\nlet them decide between us.\"\n\n\"That won't do any good,\" was the reply. \"We rooks have decided the\nmatter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,\nor all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them\nto serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?\"\n\n\"I'll think it over,\" said Policeman Bluejay.\n\n\"Oho! oho! He's", "notice; but I am wise enough to\nunderstand that you are very unusual and wonderful little creatures,\nand if at any time I can serve you further, you have but to call me,\nand I will do what I can for you.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" replied Twinkle, who realized that the great\nbird had acted more gently toward them than it is the nature of his\nwild race to do.\n\nThey had just reached the edge of the forest again when they saw a bird\napproaching them at a great speed, and soon it came near enough for\nthem to see", "have to be\nwatched. Men destroy us wantonly; other animals and the sly serpents\nprey upon us and our eggs for food; but these are open enemies, and we\nknow how we may best avoid them. Our most dangerous foes are those\nbandits of our own race who, instead of protecting their brethren,\nsteal our eggs and murder our young. They are not always the biggest\nbirds, by any means, that do these things. The crow family is known to\nbe treacherous, and the shrike is rightly called the 'butcher-", "party here today,\" he continued,\n\"and they behaved pretty well while the policeman was around. But some\nof them might not be so friendly if you met them alone.\"\n\n\"Would any bird hurt us?\" asked the girl, in surprise.\n\n\"Why, I've seen a magpie meet a thrush, and fly away alone,\" replied\nWisk. \"And the wrens and chickadees avoid the cuckoo as much as\npossible, because they are fond of being alive. But the policeman keeps\nthe big birds all in order when he is around, and", "policeman, reluctantly. \"But I sometimes think\nthe goody-goody places would get awful tiresome to live in, after a\ntime. Here in our part of the forest there is a little excitement, for\nthe biggest birds only obey our laws through fear of punishment, and I\nunderstand it is just the same in the world of men. But in the Birds'\nParadise there lives but one race, every member of which is quite\nparticular not to annoy any of his fellows in any way. That is why they\nwill admit no disturbing element into their country.", "for the innocent victims I befriended them,\nand as this basket belongs to them I have asked you to fetch it to\ntheir nest.\"\n\n\"I am glad to be of service,\" replied the eagle. \"If ever you need me,\nand I am anywhere around,\" he continued, addressing the larks, \"just\ncall me, and I will come at once.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Twinkle, gratefully.\n\n\"We're much obliged,\" added Chubbins.\n\nThen the eagle flew away, and when he was gone Polic", "bird,'\nbut there are many others that we have reason to suspect feed upon\ntheir own race.\"\n\n\"How dreadful!\" exclaimed the girl-lark.\n\nThe birds all seemed restless and uneasy at this conversation, and\nlooked upon one another with suspicious glances. But the bluejay\nsoothed them by saying:\n\n\"After all, I suppose we imagine more evil than really exists, and\nsometimes accuse our neighbors wrongfully. But the mother birds know\nhow often their nests have been robbed in their absence, and if they\n", "they are gentle and\ninnocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both.\"\n\n\"They are certainly very curious,\" remarked the King, staring at the\nhuman heads upon the lark bodies. \"May I ask you, little strangers, how\nyou happen to exist in your present form?\"\n\nTwinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that\nhad fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story\nof their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of\nParadise present listened" ], [ "\n\"That's bad,\" observed Chubbins, uneasily.\n\n\"Well,\" said Twinkle, \"I'd be willing to have a pain or two, just to be\nmyself again.\"\n\n\"So would I, if it comes to that,\" agreed the boy. \"But I'd rather have\nfound a way to be myself without getting the pain.\"\n\n\"There is usually but one thing that will overcome an enchantment,\"\nremarked the bluejay, seriously; \"and if it is a tingle-berry that will\ndestroy the charm which the", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "oth of them had to cling fast to the branch with their toes, for their\narms and hands were now wings. The toes were long and sharp pointed, so\nthat they could be used in the place of fingers.\n\n\"My!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"you're a queer sight, Chubbins!\"\n\n\"So are you,\" answered the boy. \"That mean old thing must have 'witched\nus.\"\n\n\"Yes, we're 'chanted,\" said Twinkle. \"And now, what are we going to do\nabout it? We can't", "it is the one antidote in all the world\nfor the charm the tuxix worked upon you.\"\n\n\"What _is_ a tingle-berry?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously, for this\ninformation interested her as much as it did Chubbins.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the King, \"for it is a common forest berry, and\nnever grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble\nin finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside\nworld.\"\n\nThe children were both eager to go at", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "shape, and cease to be a\nbird?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, if I could,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Then I will tell you how to do it,\" said the King. \"Since you told me\nyour strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a\ngood deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who\nwickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells\nme that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume\nyour natural form again. For", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "as the dining-table at home.\n\n\"All the better for us,\" said Twinkle, bending her head down to nibble\nat the edge of the cookie.\n\n\"If we're going to be birds,\" said Chubbins, who was also busily eating\nas best he could, \"we ought to be reg'lar birds, and have bills to peck\nwith. This being half one thing and half another doesn't suit me at\nall.\"\n\n\"The witch wasn't trying to suit us,\" replied Twinkle; \"she was trying\nto get", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", "it is withered, you see.\"\n\n\"That won't matter,\" returned the boy-lark. \"The Royal Necromancer said\nto eat one berry. He didn't say a little or a big one, you know, or\nwhether it should be plump or withered.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the girl-lark. \"Shall I eat mine now?\"\n\n\"The sooner the better,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Don't forget me, little friend, when you are a human again,\" said\nPoliceman Blue", "and\nChubbins was not long in following her example.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IX] _The Destroyers_\n\nA loud shouting and a bang that echoed like a clap of thunder through\nthe forest awoke the bird-children from their dreams.\n\nOpening their eyes with a start they saw that the gray dawn was\nbreaking and a sort of morning twilight made all objects in the forest\ndistinct, yet not so brilliant as the approaching daylight would.\nShadows still lay among the bushes and the thickest branches; but\nbetween the", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", ",\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"That reminds me I'm hungry,\" chirped the boy-lark.\n\n\"Well, we've got the basket,\" she replied.\n\n\"But how can we eat cake and things, witched up as we are?\"\n\n\"Haven't we mouths and teeth, just the same as ever?\"\n\n\"Yes, but we haven't any hands, and there's a cloth tied over the top\nof the basket.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"I hadn't thought of that.\"\n", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", "cruel and wicked. The children could not see how many legs\nit had, but they must have been very short, because the creature moved\nso slowly over the ground.\n\nWhen it had drawn near to them it said, in a pleading tone that sounded\nsoft and rather musical:\n\n\"Little girl, pick me up in your arms, and pet me!\"\n\nTwinkle shrank back.\n\n\"My! I couldn't _think_ of doing such a thing,\" she answered.\n\nThen the creature said:\n\n\"Little boy, please pick me up in your", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "-lark, clutched the cup firmly with her toes and flew back to\nthe orphans without spilling more than a few drops. They managed to\npour some of the water into each open mouth, and then Twinkle said:\n\n\"There! they won't die of either hunger or thirst in a hurry, Chub. So\nnow we can feed ourselves.\"\n\n\"Their mouths are still open,\" returned the boy, doubtfully.\n\n\"It must be a habit they have,\" she answered. \"Wouldn't you think\nthey'd get tired" ], [ "party here today,\" he continued,\n\"and they behaved pretty well while the policeman was around. But some\nof them might not be so friendly if you met them alone.\"\n\n\"Would any bird hurt us?\" asked the girl, in surprise.\n\n\"Why, I've seen a magpie meet a thrush, and fly away alone,\" replied\nWisk. \"And the wrens and chickadees avoid the cuckoo as much as\npossible, because they are fond of being alive. But the policeman keeps\nthe big birds all in order when he is around, and", "wind moderated, and presently died away altogether, so that they\nwere forced to begin flying in order to continue their journey home.\n\nIt was now the middle of the afternoon, and the policeman said:\n\n\"I hope all has been quiet and orderly during my absence. There are so\nmany disturbing elements among the forest birds that I always worry\nwhen they are left alone for many hours at a time.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they have behaved themselves,\" returned Twinkle. \"They fear\nyour power so much that the evil-minded birds do not dare to offend you", "forest again and went among the birds to call them all to a\nmeeting. They obeyed the summons without delay, and were very indignant\nwhen they heard of the rebellion of the rooks and the insults that had\nbeen heaped upon their regularly elected officer. Judge Bullfinch\narrived with his head bandaged with soft feathers, for he had met the\nrook policeman and, when he remonstrated, had been severely pounded by\nthe wicked bird's club.\n\n\"But what can we do?\" he asked. \"The rooks", "policeman, reluctantly. \"But I sometimes think\nthe goody-goody places would get awful tiresome to live in, after a\ntime. Here in our part of the forest there is a little excitement, for\nthe biggest birds only obey our laws through fear of punishment, and I\nunderstand it is just the same in the world of men. But in the Birds'\nParadise there lives but one race, every member of which is quite\nparticular not to annoy any of his fellows in any way. That is why they\nwill admit no disturbing element into their country.", "as man; therefore he is the\ngreatest destroyer in the world. But he is not alone in his murderous,\ndespoiling instinct. While you rail at man, my friends, do not forget\nthat birds are themselves the greatest enemies of birds.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" cried the magpie, indignantly.\n\n\"Perhaps the less you say about this matter the better,\" declared the\nbluejay, swinging his club in a suggestive manner, and looking sharply\nat the magpie.\n\n\"It's a slander,\" said the blackbird.", ", and some so rugged and strong that it seemed\nstrange they would submit to the orders of the officer of the law. But\nthe policeman kept a sharp watch upon these birds, to see that they\nattempted no mischievous pranks, and they must have been afraid of him\nbecause they behaved very well after the saucy raven had left them.\nEven the chattering magpies tried to restrain their busy tongues, and\nthe blackbirds indulged in no worse pranks than to suddenly spread\ntheir wings and try to push the pigeons off", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", ",\" he said to the rook, \"and\nlet them decide between us.\"\n\n\"That won't do any good,\" was the reply. \"We rooks have decided the\nmatter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,\nor all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them\nto serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?\"\n\n\"I'll think it over,\" said Policeman Bluejay.\n\n\"Oho! oho! He's", "\nLike all blustering, evil-disposed people, when they found themselves\nconquered they whined and humbled themselves before the victors and\ndeclared they would never again rebel against Policeman Bluejay, the\nregularly appointed guardian of the Law of the Forest. And I am told\nthat after this day the rooks, who are not rightly forest birds, betook\nthemselves to the nearest villages and farm houses, and contented\nthemselves with plaguing mankind, who could not revenge themselves as\neasily as the birds did", "are a very powerful tribe,\nand the magpies and cuckoos and blackbirds are liable to side with\nthem, if they seem to be stronger than we are.\"\n\n\"We might get all our people together and fall upon them in a great\narmy, and so defeat them,\" suggested an oriole.\n\n\"The trouble with that plan,\" decided the judge, \"is that we can only\ndepend upon the smaller birds. The big birds might desert us, and in\nthat case we would be badly beaten.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it will be better to submit", "fastened around\nthe policeman's wing with a cord, so that it could not get away when he\nwas flying.\n\nThe birds were of many sizes and of various colorings. Some were much\nlarger than the bluejay, but none seemed so proud or masterful, and all\ndeferred meekly to the commands of the acknowledged guardian of the\nforest.\n\nOne by one the pretty creatures alighted upon the limbs of the tree,\nand the first thing they all did was to arrange their feathers properly\nafter their rapid flight. Then the bluej", "\"I'm sure you can't accuse _me_\nof injuring birds in any way.\"\n\n\"If you are all innocent, why are we obliged to have a policeman?\"\nenquired the little wren, in a nervous voice.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Twinkle, appealing to the bluejay; \"are the big birds\nreally naughty to the little ones?\"\n\n\"Why, it is the same with us as it is with men,\" replied the policeman.\n\"There are good ones and bad ones among us, and the bad ones", "because\nhe was seriously thinking; \"I have a plan for subduing these rebels,\nand it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long\njourney to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but\nmeet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be\nsure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we\nmust insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to\nthese rooks.\"\n\nWith these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly", "It is the nature of owls to be kind and sympathetic. Those\nwho do not know us very well say harsh things about us, because we fly\nin the night, when most other birds are asleep, and sleep in the\ndaytime when most other birds are awake.\"\n\n\"Why do you do that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Because the strong light hurts our eyes. But, although we are abroad\nin the night, we seek only our natural prey, and obey the Great Law of\nthe forest more than some others do.\"\n\n\"What is the Great Law?\"", "in a flutter of delight at the prompt arrival\nof the powerful bluejays, and when the word of command was given they\nall left the tree and flew swiftly to meet the rooks.\n\nFirst came the ranks of the twenty-two bluejays, with the policeman at\ntheir head. Then followed many magpies and cuckoos, who were too clever\nto side with the naughty rooks when they saw the powerful birds the\nbluejay had summoned to his assistance. After these flew the smaller\nbirds, of all descriptions, and they were so", "notice; but I am wise enough to\nunderstand that you are very unusual and wonderful little creatures,\nand if at any time I can serve you further, you have but to call me,\nand I will do what I can for you.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" replied Twinkle, who realized that the great\nbird had acted more gently toward them than it is the nature of his\nwild race to do.\n\nThey had just reached the edge of the forest again when they saw a bird\napproaching them at a great speed, and soon it came near enough for\nthem to see", "of all the bright-hued birds that live\namong the trees or seek them for shelter.\n\nThey flew in pairs, one after the other, and at the head of the\nprocession was their good friend Policeman Bluejay, wearing a\npoliceman's helmet upon his head and having a policeman's club tucked\nunderneath his left wing. The helmet was black and glossy and had a big\nnumber \"1\" on the front of it, and a strap that passed under the\nwearer's bill and held it firmly in place. The club was", "to the rooks,\" said a little\nchickadee, anxiously. \"We are neither warriors nor prizefighters, and\nif we obey our new rulers they may leave us in peace.\"\n\n\"No, indeed!\" cried a linnet. \"If we submit to them they will think we\nare afraid, and will treat us cruelly. I know the nature of these\nrooks, and believe they can only be kept from wickedness by a power\nstronger than their own.\"\n\n\"Hear me, good friends,\" said the bluejay, who had been silent", ", the latter appearing\nsleepy because, they explained, they had been out late the night\nbefore.\n\nThese smaller birds all sat in rows on the limbs beside Twinkle and\nChubbins; but seated upon the stouter limbs facing them were rows of\nbigger birds who made the child-larks nervous by the sharp glances from\ntheir round, bright eyes. Here were blackbirds, cuckoos, magpies,\ngrosbeaks and wood-pigeons, all nearly as big and fierce-looking as\nPoliceman Bluejay himself", "he makes them all\nafraid to disobey the laws. He's a wonderful fellow, that Policeman\nBluejay, and even we squirrels are glad he is in the forest.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Well, we also fear some of the birds,\" answered Wisk. \"The lady in the\nthird flat, for instance, Mrs. Hootaway, is said to like a squirrel for\na midnight meal now and then, when mice and beetles are scarce. It is\nalmost her hour for w" ], [ "the forest are good parents, helpful neighbors, and faithful friends.\nWhat better than this could be said of us?\"\n\n\"Nothing, I'm sure, if it is true,\" replied the girl.\n\n\"Over in the Land of Paradise,\" continued the owl, thoughtfully, \"the\nbirds are not obliged to take life in order to live themselves; so they\ncall us savage and fierce. But I believe our natures are as kindly as\nthose of the Birds of Paradise.\"\n\n\"Where is this Land of Paradise you speak of?\" asked Tw", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "and\nChubbins was not long in following her example.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IX] _The Destroyers_\n\nA loud shouting and a bang that echoed like a clap of thunder through\nthe forest awoke the bird-children from their dreams.\n\nOpening their eyes with a start they saw that the gray dawn was\nbreaking and a sort of morning twilight made all objects in the forest\ndistinct, yet not so brilliant as the approaching daylight would.\nShadows still lay among the bushes and the thickest branches; but\nbetween the", "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "unfortunately\nno berries were now growing upon them, and at each failure the children\ngrew more and more sad and despondent.\n\n\"If we have to wait until the bushes bear again,\" Twinkle remarked, \"it\nwill be nearly a year, and I'm sure we can't live in the forest all\nwinter.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" asked the policeman.\n\n\"The food in our basket would all be gone, and then we would starve to\ndeath,\" was the reply. \"We can't eat bugs and worms, you know.\"", "and cuddled down close together.\n\nThe moon was now rising over the trees and flooding the gloom of the\nforest with its subdued silver radiance. The children were not sleepy;\ntheir new life was too strange and wonderful for them to be able to\nclose their eyes at once. So they were rather pleased when the gray owl\nsettled on the branch beside their nest and began to talk to them.\n\n\"I'm used to slanders, my dears,\" she said, in a pleasanter tone than\nshe had used before, \"", "ding. \"I\nlive in the second flat.\"\n\n\"How's that?\" asked the boy.\n\n\"Why, the second hollow, you know. There's a 'possum living in the\nhollow down below, who is carrying four babies around in her pocket;\nand Mrs. Hootaway, the gray owl, lives in the hollow above--the one you\ncan see far over your heads. So I'm the second flat tenant.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Twinkle.\n\n\"Early in the morning the 'possum comes growling home to go", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "now?\" asked the King, turning his eyes upon\nthe lark-children.\n\n\"It must be the prettiest place in all the world!\" cried Twinkle, with\nreal enthusiasm.\n\nHis Majesty seemed much pleased. \"I am very sorry you cannot live here\nalways,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm not,\" declared Chubbins. \"It's too pretty. I'd get tired of it\nsoon.\"\n\n\"He means,\" said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark\nwould displease the kindly King", "talked for an hour, and Wisk told them stories of the\nforest, and of the many queer animals and birds that lived there. It\nwas all very interesting to the children, and they listened eagerly\nuntil they heard a rushing sound in the air that sent Wisk scurrying\nback into his hole.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IV] _An Afternoon Reception_\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins stretched their little necks to see what was\ncoming, and a moment later beheld one of the most gorgeous sights the\nforest affords--a procession", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "one last look through the forest to see that all\nwas orderly for the night.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER VIII] _Mrs. Hootaway_\n\nAs the child-larks sat side by side upon their limb, with the soft gray\nnest near at hand, the twilight fell and a shadow began to grow and\ndeepen throughout the forest.\n\n\"Twink,\" said Chubbins, gravely, \"how do you like it?\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied the girl, \"it isn't so bad in the daytime, but it'", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "place in all the world,\nbut no one except the Birds of Paradise are allowed to live there.\nThose favored birds sometimes enter our part of the forest, but we are\nnever allowed to enter theirs.\"\n\n\"I'd like to see that place,\" said Twinkle.\n\n\"Well, you two child-larks are different from all other birds,\"\nremarked the eagle, \"and for that reason perhaps you would be allowed\nto visit the paradise that is forbidden the rest of us. If ever I meet\none of the beautiful birds that live there,", "trees the spaces were clearly visible.\n\nThe children, rudely awakened by the riot of noise in their ears, could\ndistinguish the barking of dogs, the shouts of men calling to the\nbrutes, and the scream of an animal in deep distress. Immediately\nafter, there was a whirl overhead and the gray owl settled on the limb\nbeside their nest.\n\n\"They've got her!\" she exclaimed, in a trembling, terrified voice. \"The\nmen have shot Mrs. 'Possum dead, and the dogs are now", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "enquired Twinkle, curiously.\n\n\"Love. It is the moral law that is above all laws made by living\ncreatures. The whole forest is ruled by love more than it is by fear.\nYou may think this is strange when you remember that some animals eat\nbirds, and some birds eat animals, and the dreadful creeping things eat\nus both; but nevertheless we are so close to Nature here that love and\ntenderness for our kind influences us even more than it does mankind--\nthe careless and unthinking race from which you came. The residents of\n" ], [ "it! Don't believe it!\" cried a high, clear voice, and\nboth the boy and the girl looked quickly around to see who had spoken.\nBut no one besides themselves was in sight, and they only noticed a\nthick branch of one of the trees slightly swaying its leaves.\n\n\"What is a tuxix?\" asked Twinkle, who was beginning to feel sorry for\nthe poor creature.\n\n\"It is a magician, a sorcerer, a wizard, and a witch all rolled into\none,\" was the answer; \"and you can imagine what a dreadful", "thing that\nwould be.\"\n\n\"Be careful!\" cried the clear voice, again. \"It is the tuxix herself\nwho is talking to you. Don't believe a word you hear!\"\n\nAt this the red eyes of the creature flashed fire with anger, and it\ntried to turn its clumsy body around to find the speaker. Twinkle and\nChubbins looked too, but only heard a flutter and a mocking laugh\ncoming from the trees.\n\n\"If I get my eye on that bird, it will never speak again,\" exclaimed\nthe", "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", "old tuxix put upon you, then nothing else\nwill answer the same purpose. The Royal Necromancer is very wise, and\nyou may depend upon what he says. But it is late, at this season, for\ntingle-berries. They do not grow at all times of the year, and we may\nnot be able to find any upon the bushes.\"\n\n\"Cannot we go at once and find out?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"To be sure. It will grieve me to lose you, my little friends, but I\nwant to do what will give", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "shape, and cease to be a\nbird?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, if I could,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Then I will tell you how to do it,\" said the King. \"Since you told me\nyour strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a\ngood deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who\nwickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells\nme that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume\nyour natural form again. For", "the branch.\n\nSeveral beautiful humming-birds were poised in the air above this\ngathering, their bodies being motionless but their tiny wings\nfluttering so swiftly that neither Twinkle nor Chubbins could see them\nat all.\n\nPoliceman Bluejay, having finally introduced all the company to the\nchild-larks, began to relate the story of their adventures, telling the\nbirds how the wicked tuxix had transformed them into the remarkable\nshapes they now possessed.\n\n\"For the honor of our race,\" he said,", "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above", "it is the one antidote in all the world\nfor the charm the tuxix worked upon you.\"\n\n\"What _is_ a tingle-berry?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously, for this\ninformation interested her as much as it did Chubbins.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the King, \"for it is a common forest berry, and\nnever grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble\nin finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside\nworld.\"\n\nThe children were both eager to go at", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "a pure white. The main\nwing-feathers were white, tipped with vivid scarlet, and the white\nfeathers of his crest were also tipped with specks of flame. But his\ntail feathers were the most beautiful of all his gay uniform. They\nspread out in the shape of a fan, and every other feather was brilliant\ngreen and its alternate feather snow white.\n\n\"How lovely!\" cried Twinkle, and the bird bowed its head and with a\nmerry glance from its eyes responded:\n\n\"Your admiration highly honors me, little stranger", "size about as large as a common pigeon. His eyes were shrewd but gentle\nin expression and his pose as he stood regarding the newcomers was\ndignified and impressive. But the children had little time to note\nthese things because their wondering eyes were riveted upon the bird's\nmagnificent plumage. The feathers lay so smoothly against his body that\nthey seemed to present a solid surface, and in color they were a\nglistening emerald green upon the neck and wings, shading down on the\nbreast to a softer green and then to", "'re smaller,\" replied Chubbins.\n\n\"But birds shouldn't have human heads,\" retorted the bluejay. \"I\nsuppose the old tuxix did that so the birds would not admit you into\ntheir society, for you are neither all bird nor all human. But never\nmind; I'll explain your case, and you may be sure all the birds of the\nforest will be kind to you.\"\n\n\"Must we stay like this always?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"I really can't say,\" answered the policeman. \"", ", \"unless his feathers are his uniform.\"\n\n\"Well, he's too proud of his office to be satisfied with feathers, I\ncan tell you. When some folks get a little authority they want all the\nworld to know about it, and a bold uniform covers many a faint heart.\nBut as I'm your nearest neighbor I'll introduce myself. My name's\nWisk.\"\n\n\"My name is Twinkle.\"\n\n\"And mine's Chubbins.\"\n\n\"Pleased to make your acquaintance,\" said the squirrel, nod", "of all the bright-hued birds that live\namong the trees or seek them for shelter.\n\nThey flew in pairs, one after the other, and at the head of the\nprocession was their good friend Policeman Bluejay, wearing a\npoliceman's helmet upon his head and having a policeman's club tucked\nunderneath his left wing. The helmet was black and glossy and had a big\nnumber \"1\" on the front of it, and a strap that passed under the\nwearer's bill and held it firmly in place. The club was", ", he ate the berry as greedily as if he was\nfond of a stomache-ache.\n\nThe second berry had a good effect in one way, for Chubbins' wings\nquickly became arms, and he was now as perfectly formed as he had been\nbefore he met with the cruel tuxix. But he gave a groan, every once in\na while, and Twinkle suspected that two berries were twice as powerful\nas one, and made a pain that lasted twice as long.\n\nAs the boy and girl looked around they were astonished to find their" ], [ "they are gentle and\ninnocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both.\"\n\n\"They are certainly very curious,\" remarked the King, staring at the\nhuman heads upon the lark bodies. \"May I ask you, little strangers, how\nyou happen to exist in your present form?\"\n\nTwinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that\nhad fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story\nof their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of\nParadise present listened", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", "he went he seemed to grow\nvery small, and to change in shape.\n\n\"Wait!\" she cried. \"I'm coming, too!\"\n\nShe was afraid of losing Chubbins, so she flew after him, feeling\nrather queer herself, and a moment after was safe in the tall tree,\nclinging with her toes to a branch and looking in amazement at the boy\nwho sat beside her.\n\nChubbins had been transformed into a pretty little bird--all, that is,\nexcept his head, which was Chubbins' own head reduced in", "the branch.\n\nSeveral beautiful humming-birds were poised in the air above this\ngathering, their bodies being motionless but their tiny wings\nfluttering so swiftly that neither Twinkle nor Chubbins could see them\nat all.\n\nPoliceman Bluejay, having finally introduced all the company to the\nchild-larks, began to relate the story of their adventures, telling the\nbirds how the wicked tuxix had transformed them into the remarkable\nshapes they now possessed.\n\n\"For the honor of our race,\" he said,", ", \"that he isn't really a bird, but a\nboy who has been forced to wear a bird's body. And your Majesty is wise\nenough to understand that the sort of life you lead in your fairy\nparadise would be very different from the life that boys generally\nlead.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" replied the King. \"A boy's life must be a dreadful one.\"\n\n\"It suits me, all right,\" said Chubbins.\n\nThe King looked at him attentively.\n\n\"Would you really prefer to resume your old", "'re smaller,\" replied Chubbins.\n\n\"But birds shouldn't have human heads,\" retorted the bluejay. \"I\nsuppose the old tuxix did that so the birds would not admit you into\ntheir society, for you are neither all bird nor all human. But never\nmind; I'll explain your case, and you may be sure all the birds of the\nforest will be kind to you.\"\n\n\"Must we stay like this always?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"I really can't say,\" answered the policeman. \"", "as the dining-table at home.\n\n\"All the better for us,\" said Twinkle, bending her head down to nibble\nat the edge of the cookie.\n\n\"If we're going to be birds,\" said Chubbins, who was also busily eating\nas best he could, \"we ought to be reg'lar birds, and have bills to peck\nwith. This being half one thing and half another doesn't suit me at\nall.\"\n\n\"The witch wasn't trying to suit us,\" replied Twinkle; \"she was trying\nto get", "\n\n\"Pir-r-r-r--eep--cheep--tweet!\"\n\n\"What in the world can you do?\" asked the girl, quite distressed. \"It\nwill be just dreadful if you have to stay like that.\"\n\nThe tears came to Chubbins' eyes. He tried to restrain them, but could\nnot. He flapped his little wings dolefully and said:\n\n\"I wish I was either one thing or the other! I'd rather be a child-lark\nagain, and nest in a tree, than to", ".\"\n\n\"This,\" said Policeman Bluejay, \"is the important official called the\nGuardian of the Entrance of Paradise. Sir Guardian, permit me to\nintroduce to you two children of men who have been magically\ntransformed into skylarks against their will. They are not quite birds,\nbecause their heads retain the human shape; but whatever form they may\nbear, their natures are sweet and innocent and I deem them worthy to\nassociate for a brief time with your splendid and regal race. Therefore\nI have brought them here to", "oth of them had to cling fast to the branch with their toes, for their\narms and hands were now wings. The toes were long and sharp pointed, so\nthat they could be used in the place of fingers.\n\n\"My!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"you're a queer sight, Chubbins!\"\n\n\"So are you,\" answered the boy. \"That mean old thing must have 'witched\nus.\"\n\n\"Yes, we're 'chanted,\" said Twinkle. \"And now, what are we going to do\nabout it? We can't", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", "form quickly changed and grew larger; and while Chubbins\nand Policeman Bluejay watched her anxiously she became a girl again,\nand the bird's body with its soft gray feathers completely disappeared.\n\nAs she felt herself changing she called: \"Good-bye!\" to the bluejay;\nbut even then he could hardly understand her words.\n\n\"Good-bye!\" he answered, and to Twinkle's ears it sounded like\n\"Chir-r-rip-chee-wee!\"\n\n\"How did it feel?\" asked Chubbins;", ", and both the bird-children flew into their basket and\nreturned with their claws full of cookie. They repeated the journey\nmany times, distributing bits of the rare food to all of the birds who\nhad visited them, and each one ate the morsel eagerly and declared that\nit was very good.\n\n\"Now,\" said the policeman, when the feast was over, \"let us all go to\nthe brook and have a drink of its clear, sweet water.\"\n\nSo they flew away, a large and merry band of all sizes and colors; and\nthe", "\n\"It's awfully small!\" said Chubbins.\n\n\"Chut-chut!\" twittered Policeman Bluejay. \"Remember you are not\nchildren now, but skylarks, and that this is a thrush's nest. Try it,\nand you are sure to find it will fit you exactly.\"\n\nSo Twinkle and Chubbins flew into the \"house\" and nestled their bodies\nagainst its soft lining and found that their friend was right. When\nthey were cuddled together, with their slender legs tucked into", "-lark, clutched the cup firmly with her toes and flew back to\nthe orphans without spilling more than a few drops. They managed to\npour some of the water into each open mouth, and then Twinkle said:\n\n\"There! they won't die of either hunger or thirst in a hurry, Chub. So\nnow we can feed ourselves.\"\n\n\"Their mouths are still open,\" returned the boy, doubtfully.\n\n\"It must be a habit they have,\" she answered. \"Wouldn't you think\nthey'd get tired", "size to fit\nthe bird body. It still had upon it the straw hat, which had also grown\nsmall in size, and the sight that met Twinkle's eyes was so funny that\nshe laughed merrily, and her laugh was like the sweet warbling of a\nskylark.\n\nChubbins looked at her and saw almost what she saw; for Twinkle was a\nbird too, except for her head, with its checked sunbonnet, which had\ngrown small enough to fit the pretty, glossy-feathered body of a lark.\n\nB", "into things as\nloathsome as herself.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't have touched her, anyhow,\" said Twinkle.\n\n\"Nor I!\" cried Chubbins, in his shrill, bird-like voice. \"She wasn't\nnice.\"\n\n\"Still, it was good of you to warn us,\" Twinkle added, sweetly.\n\nThe Bluejay looked upon the fluttering little things with kind\napproval. Then he laughed outright.\n\n\"What has happened to your heads?\" he asked.\n\n\"Nothing, 'cept they", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above", ". Help me, you ladies!\"\n\nAt once the small brown birds on the lower branches, who had been\nmodestly quiet because they had no gay plumage, flew up to the King and\nwith their bills skillfully dressed his feathers, putting the wing\nplume into its place again and arranging it properly, while the other\nbirds looked on with evident interest.\n\nAs the lark-children turned away to follow the Messenger Chubbins\nremarked:\n\n\"I'm glad _I_ haven't got all those giddy feathers.\"\n\n" ], [ "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts\nof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.\n\nBut either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to\nbother the little child-larks.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_\n\nThe next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky\nwas a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the\ntrees. Even before Twinkle and Chubbins were awake the birds were\ncall", "little ones.\"\n\n\"Chubbins and I have 'dopted the goldfinches,\" said Twinkle, \"so we will\nlook after them now. But it was very nice of you, Mrs. Redbreast, to\ntake take care of them until we arrived.\"\n\n\"Well, I like to be neighborly,\" returned the pretty bird; \"and as long\nas cruel men enter our forest no mother can tell how soon her own\nlittle ones will be orphaned and left helpless.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman, nodding gravely.\n", "and Chubbins twisted their heads around on their little\nfeathered necks and saw perched beside them a big bird of a most\nbeautiful blue color. At first they were a bit frightened, for the\nnewcomer seemed of giant size beside their little lark bodies, and he\nwas, moreover, quite fierce in appearance, having a crest of feathers\nthat came to a point above his head, and a strong beak and sharp\ntalons. But Twinkle looked full into the shrewd, bright eye, and found\nit good humored and twinkling", "he ate it; and seeing his success Twinkle\nfollowed his example, and after a few attempts found she could eat very\ncomfortably in that way.\n\nHaving had their luncheon--and it amazed Chubbins to see how very\nlittle was required to satisfy their hunger--the bird-children crept\nout of the basket and flew down to the twig beside their nest.\n\n\"Hello!\" cried a strange voice. \"Newcomers, eh?\"\n\nThey were so startled that they fluttered a moment to keep from\ntumbling off the lim", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "\n\"It's awfully small!\" said Chubbins.\n\n\"Chut-chut!\" twittered Policeman Bluejay. \"Remember you are not\nchildren now, but skylarks, and that this is a thrush's nest. Try it,\nand you are sure to find it will fit you exactly.\"\n\nSo Twinkle and Chubbins flew into the \"house\" and nestled their bodies\nagainst its soft lining and found that their friend was right. When\nthey were cuddled together, with their slender legs tucked into", "ding. \"I\nlive in the second flat.\"\n\n\"How's that?\" asked the boy.\n\n\"Why, the second hollow, you know. There's a 'possum living in the\nhollow down below, who is carrying four babies around in her pocket;\nand Mrs. Hootaway, the gray owl, lives in the hollow above--the one you\ncan see far over your heads. So I'm the second flat tenant.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Twinkle.\n\n\"Early in the morning the 'possum comes growling home to go", "describe.\n\nBoth Twinkle and Chubbins gasped with amazement and delight as, at the\ncommand of Ephel, they alighted upon a lowly branch of the golden bush\nand bowed their heads before the ruler of the birds' fairyland.\n\n\"Ah, whom have we here?\" asked the King, in a soft voice, as he\nstrutted and proudly turned himself upon his perch.\n\n\"Strangers, your Majesty,\" answered the Messenger. \"They are sent to\nyou by the Guardian of the Entrance because", "Y PALACE\nTHE BATTLE\n\"IT'S ALMOST DARK. LET'S GO HOME\"\n\n\n[CHAPTER I] _Little Ones in Trouble_\n\n\"SEEMS to me, Chub,\" said Twinkle, \"that we're lost.\"\n\n\"Seems to me, Twink,\" said Chubbins, \"that it isn't _we_ that's lost.\nIt's the path.\"\n\n\"It was here a minute ago,\" declared Twinkle.\n\n\"But it isn't", "their breaths, but before this\nhappened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at\nthe sight that met their eyes.\n\nBefore them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but\nhaving trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite\nmetallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers,\nexceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked\nupon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then\nsang a song so sweet", ", \"unless his feathers are his uniform.\"\n\n\"Well, he's too proud of his office to be satisfied with feathers, I\ncan tell you. When some folks get a little authority they want all the\nworld to know about it, and a bold uniform covers many a faint heart.\nBut as I'm your nearest neighbor I'll introduce myself. My name's\nWisk.\"\n\n\"My name is Twinkle.\"\n\n\"And mine's Chubbins.\"\n\n\"Pleased to make your acquaintance,\" said the squirrel, nod", "ay, who sat next to the\nchild-larks, proceeded to introduce the guests he had brought to call\nupon the newest inhabitants of his domain.\n\n\"This is Mr. and Mrs. Robin Redbreast, one of our most aristocratic\nfamilies,\" said he, swinging his club around in a circle until Chubbins\nducked his head for fear it might hit him.\n\n\"You are welcome to our forest,\" chirped Robin, in a sedate and\ndignified tone.\n\n\"And here is Mr. Goldfinch and his", "talked for an hour, and Wisk told them stories of the\nforest, and of the many queer animals and birds that lived there. It\nwas all very interesting to the children, and they listened eagerly\nuntil they heard a rushing sound in the air that sent Wisk scurrying\nback into his hole.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IV] _An Afternoon Reception_\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins stretched their little necks to see what was\ncoming, and a moment later beheld one of the most gorgeous sights the\nforest affords--a procession", "now?\" asked the King, turning his eyes upon\nthe lark-children.\n\n\"It must be the prettiest place in all the world!\" cried Twinkle, with\nreal enthusiasm.\n\nHis Majesty seemed much pleased. \"I am very sorry you cannot live here\nalways,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm not,\" declared Chubbins. \"It's too pretty. I'd get tired of it\nsoon.\"\n\n\"He means,\" said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark\nwould displease the kindly King", ", the latter appearing\nsleepy because, they explained, they had been out late the night\nbefore.\n\nThese smaller birds all sat in rows on the limbs beside Twinkle and\nChubbins; but seated upon the stouter limbs facing them were rows of\nbigger birds who made the child-larks nervous by the sharp glances from\ntheir round, bright eyes. Here were blackbirds, cuckoos, magpies,\ngrosbeaks and wood-pigeons, all nearly as big and fierce-looking as\nPoliceman Bluejay himself", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "Yes, indeed!\" cried Twinkle; \"if you will be kind enough to let us.\"\n\n\"It will be a great pleasure to me,\" said the eagle. \"Follow me\nclosely, please.\"\n\nHe began flying again, and they kept at his side. By and by they\nnoticed a bright, rosy glow coming from a portion of the forest beneath\nthem.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"It is the place called the Paradise of Birds,\" answered their\nconductor. \"It is said to be the most beautiful", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around" ], [ "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "for the innocent victims I befriended them,\nand as this basket belongs to them I have asked you to fetch it to\ntheir nest.\"\n\n\"I am glad to be of service,\" replied the eagle. \"If ever you need me,\nand I am anywhere around,\" he continued, addressing the larks, \"just\ncall me, and I will come at once.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Twinkle, gratefully.\n\n\"We're much obliged,\" added Chubbins.\n\nThen the eagle flew away, and when he was gone Polic", "\nbasket standing on the ground beside them. On a limb of the first tree\nof the forest sat silently regarding them a big blue bird that they\nknew must be Policeman Bluejay, although somehow or other he had lost\nhis glossy black helmet and the club he had carried underneath his\nwing.\n\n\"It's almost dark,\" said Twinkle, yawning. \"Let's go home, Chub.\"\n\n\"All right.\"\n\nHe picked up the basket, and for a few minutes they walked along in\nsilence.\n\nThen the boy", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above", "\nThey flew together to the basket and perched upon the edge of it. It\nseemed astonishingly big to them, now that they were so small; but\nChubbins remarked that this fact was a pleasant one, for instead of\neating all the good things the basket contained at one meal, as they\nhad at first intended, it would furnish them with food for many days to\ncome.\n\nBut how to get into the basket was the thing to be considered just now.\nThey fluttered around on every side of it, and finally found a small\nplace where the cloth", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around", "reflectively as she\nperched her own brown body upon the edge of the deep nest.\n\n\"Might try it,\" suggested the boy. \"The cop says they're not\nparticular, and what's good enough for us ought to be good enough for\nthem.\"\n\nSo they flew to where the basket hung among the thick leaves of the\ntree, which had served to prevent the men from discovering it, and\ncrept underneath the cloth that covered it.\n\n\"Which do you think they'd like best,\" asked Chubbins, \"the pickles or\n", "the nest.\n\nAs he approached he made such a fierce fluttering that Twinkle and\nChubbins were dreadfully scared and flew out of their nest, hopping\nfrom limb to limb until they were well out of the monstrous bird's way.\nBut when they saw the basket, and realized the eagle's kindly act, they\nflew toward him and thanked him very earnestly for his assistance.\n\n\"Goodness me!\" exclaimed the eagle, turning his head first on one side\nand then on the other, that both his bright", "their own luncheon from the basket, and afterward perched on\nthe tree near the nest of the little goldfinches. They did not feel at\nall comfortable in their old nest in the maple, because they could not\nforget the tragic deaths of the inhabitants of the three hollows in the\ntree--the three \"flats\" as poor Wisk had merrily called them.\n\nDuring the afternoon several of the birds came to call upon the\norphans, and they all nodded approval when they found the child-larks\nwatching over the little ones. Twinkle questioned some", ",\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"That reminds me I'm hungry,\" chirped the boy-lark.\n\n\"Well, we've got the basket,\" she replied.\n\n\"But how can we eat cake and things, witched up as we are?\"\n\n\"Haven't we mouths and teeth, just the same as ever?\"\n\n\"Yes, but we haven't any hands, and there's a cloth tied over the top\nof the basket.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"I hadn't thought of that.\"\n", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n", "he ate it; and seeing his success Twinkle\nfollowed his example, and after a few attempts found she could eat very\ncomfortably in that way.\n\nHaving had their luncheon--and it amazed Chubbins to see how very\nlittle was required to satisfy their hunger--the bird-children crept\nout of the basket and flew down to the twig beside their nest.\n\n\"Hello!\" cried a strange voice. \"Newcomers, eh?\"\n\nThey were so startled that they fluttered a moment to keep from\ntumbling off the lim", ", and both the bird-children flew into their basket and\nreturned with their claws full of cookie. They repeated the journey\nmany times, distributing bits of the rare food to all of the birds who\nhad visited them, and each one ate the morsel eagerly and declared that\nit was very good.\n\n\"Now,\" said the policeman, when the feast was over, \"let us all go to\nthe brook and have a drink of its clear, sweet water.\"\n\nSo they flew away, a large and merry band of all sizes and colors; and\nthe", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "and yellow\nleaves. Scattered about among the branches were blossoms of a delicate\npink color, shaped like a cup and resembling somewhat the flower of the\nmorning-glory.\n\n\"Are you hungry?\" asked Ephel.\n\n\"Oh, I could eat something, I guess,\" said Chubbins.\n\nThe Messenger flew to one of the trees and alighted upon a branch where\nthree of the pink, cup-shaped flowers grew in a row. The children\nfollowed him, and sitting one before each blossom they looked within\nthe", "unfortunately\nno berries were now growing upon them, and at each failure the children\ngrew more and more sad and despondent.\n\n\"If we have to wait until the bushes bear again,\" Twinkle remarked, \"it\nwill be nearly a year, and I'm sure we can't live in the forest all\nwinter.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" asked the policeman.\n\n\"The food in our basket would all be gone, and then we would starve to\ndeath,\" was the reply. \"We can't eat bugs and worms, you know.\"", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "that it was Policeman Bluejay. He wore his official helmet\nand carried his club, and as soon as he came beside them he said:\n\n\"Thank goodness I've found you at last. I've been hunting for you an\nhour, and began to fear you had met with some misfortune.\"\n\n\"We've been with the eagle,\" said the girl. \"He saved our lives and\ncarried us away from where the dreadful men were.\"\n\n\"We have had sad doings in the forest today--very sad, indeed,\"\ndeclared the blue", "to find us with birds' bodies?\"\n\n\"They'd yell and run,\" declared the boy.\n\n\"Then,\" said she, \"we must find the tingle-berries.\"\n\nThe bluejay flew with them to some bushes which he said were the kind\nthe tingle-berries grew upon, but they were all bare and not a single\nberry could be found.\n\n\"There must be more not far away,\" said the policeman, encouragingly.\n\"Let us look about us.\"\n\nThey found several clumps of the bushes, to be sure; but" ], [ "wings\noutstretched so that she floated lightly in the air beside her rescuer.\n\"If you had been an instant later, the dog would have killed me.\"\n\n\"Very true,\" returned the eagle. \"I saw your danger while I was in the\nair, and determined to act quickly, although I might myself have been\nshot by the man had his gun been loaded. But I have noticed that a bold\naction is often successful because it causes surprise, and the foe does\nnot know what to do.\"\n\n\"I'm 'shamed of those people,\" said Chub", "But, even as she spoke, the words sounded in her own ears strange and\nunnatural, and more like the chirping of a bird than the language of\nmen. The hunter either did not hear her or he did not understand her,\nand the dog snarled and bared its wicked teeth as it sprang greedily\nupon the child-lark.\n\nTwinkle was too terrified to move. She glared upon the approaching\nmonster helplessly, and it had almost reached her when a black object\nfell from the skies with the swiftness of a lightning", "tearing her four\nbabies limb from limb!\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" whispered Twinkle, her little heart beating as\nviolently as if the dread destroyers had always been her mortal\nenemies.\n\n\"Just below us. Isn't it dreadful? We had such a nice night together,\nand Mrs. 'Possum was so sweet and loving in caring for her little ones\nand feeding them! And, just as we were nearly home again, the dogs\nsprang upon my friend and the men shot her dead. We had not even\nsus", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "that it was Policeman Bluejay. He wore his official helmet\nand carried his club, and as soon as he came beside them he said:\n\n\"Thank goodness I've found you at last. I've been hunting for you an\nhour, and began to fear you had met with some misfortune.\"\n\n\"We've been with the eagle,\" said the girl. \"He saved our lives and\ncarried us away from where the dreadful men were.\"\n\n\"We have had sad doings in the forest today--very sad, indeed,\"\ndeclared the blue", "trees the spaces were clearly visible.\n\nThe children, rudely awakened by the riot of noise in their ears, could\ndistinguish the barking of dogs, the shouts of men calling to the\nbrutes, and the scream of an animal in deep distress. Immediately\nafter, there was a whirl overhead and the gray owl settled on the limb\nbeside their nest.\n\n\"They've got her!\" she exclaimed, in a trembling, terrified voice. \"The\nmen have shot Mrs. 'Possum dead, and the dogs are now", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "for the innocent victims I befriended them,\nand as this basket belongs to them I have asked you to fetch it to\ntheir nest.\"\n\n\"I am glad to be of service,\" replied the eagle. \"If ever you need me,\nand I am anywhere around,\" he continued, addressing the larks, \"just\ncall me, and I will come at once.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Twinkle, gratefully.\n\n\"We're much obliged,\" added Chubbins.\n\nThen the eagle flew away, and when he was gone Polic", ". Slowly she sank to the ground and fell upon the\nearth with a dull sound that was dreadful to hear.\n\nInstantly Twinkle darted from the nest and swooped downward, alighting\non the ground beside the owl's quivering body. A big dog came bounding\ntoward her. The man was reloading his gun, a few paces away.\n\n\"Call off your dog!\" shouted Twinkle, wildly excited. \"How dare you\nshoot the poor, harmless birds? Call off your dog, I say!\"\n\n", "streak and struck\nthe dog's back, tearing the flesh with its powerful talons and driving\na stout, merciless beak straight through the skull of the savage brute.\n\nThe dog, already dead, straightened out and twitched convulsively. The\nman shouted angrily and sprang upon the huge bird that had slain his\npet, at the same time swinging his gun like a club.\n\n\"Quick!\" said the eagle to Twinkle, \"mount with me as swiftly as you\ncan.\"\n\nWith the words he rose into the", "was flying as\nhard and swift as his wonderful lark wings could carry him up, up into\nthe blue sky.\n\nThe sunshine touched them now, while below the tragic forest still lay\nburied in gloom.\n\n\"We are quite safe here, for I am sure no shot from a gun could reach\nus,\" said the eagle. \"So let us rest upon our wings for a while. How\nlucky it was that I happened to be around in time to rescue you, my\nlittle friends.\"\n\n\"I am very grateful, indeed,\" answered Twinkle, holding her", "air and Twinkle darted after him, while\nChubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time\nto escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.\n\nThe inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what\nwas happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his\nbreast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his\nagonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An\ninstant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "\nbeneath them.\n\n\"Oh-h-h!\" wailed Mrs. Hootaway, fluttering violently beside them. \"They\nstruck me that time--the bullet is in my heart. Good-bye, my dears.\nRemember that--all--is love; all is--love!\"\n\nHer voice died away to a whisper, and she toppled from the limb.\nTwinkle and Chubbins tried to save their dying friend from falling, but\nthe gray owl was so much bigger than they that they could not support\nthe weight of her body", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "cruel and wicked. The children could not see how many legs\nit had, but they must have been very short, because the creature moved\nso slowly over the ground.\n\nWhen it had drawn near to them it said, in a pleading tone that sounded\nsoft and rather musical:\n\n\"Little girl, pick me up in your arms, and pet me!\"\n\nTwinkle shrank back.\n\n\"My! I couldn't _think_ of doing such a thing,\" she answered.\n\nThen the creature said:\n\n\"Little boy, please pick me up in your", "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid" ], [ "It is the nature of owls to be kind and sympathetic. Those\nwho do not know us very well say harsh things about us, because we fly\nin the night, when most other birds are asleep, and sleep in the\ndaytime when most other birds are awake.\"\n\n\"Why do you do that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Because the strong light hurts our eyes. But, although we are abroad\nin the night, we seek only our natural prey, and obey the Great Law of\nthe forest more than some others do.\"\n\n\"What is the Great Law?\"", "enquired Twinkle, curiously.\n\n\"Love. It is the moral law that is above all laws made by living\ncreatures. The whole forest is ruled by love more than it is by fear.\nYou may think this is strange when you remember that some animals eat\nbirds, and some birds eat animals, and the dreadful creeping things eat\nus both; but nevertheless we are so close to Nature here that love and\ntenderness for our kind influences us even more than it does mankind--\nthe careless and unthinking race from which you came. The residents of\n", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "he makes them all\nafraid to disobey the laws. He's a wonderful fellow, that Policeman\nBluejay, and even we squirrels are glad he is in the forest.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Well, we also fear some of the birds,\" answered Wisk. \"The lady in the\nthird flat, for instance, Mrs. Hootaway, is said to like a squirrel for\na midnight meal now and then, when mice and beetles are scarce. It is\nalmost her hour for w", "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "\nby being naughty.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman. \"They know very well that I will\nnot stand any nonsense, and will always insist that the laws be\nobeyed.\"\n\nThey were now approaching that part of the forest where they lived, and\nas the policeman concluded his speech they were surprised to hear a\ngreat flutter of wings among the trees, and presently a flock of big\nblack rooks flew toward them.\n\nAt the head of the band was a saucy-looking fellow who wore upon his\nhead a policeman's", "of them and\npolite attention, and the Royal Messenger said he was pleased that the\nKing had permitted him to serve them. They also thanked the green-robed\nGuardian of the Entrance, and then, accompanied by Policeman Bluejay,\nthey quitted the golden tree and began their journey back to the\nforest.\n\nIt was no trouble at all to return. The wind caught their wings and\nblew against them strongly, so that they had but to sail before the\nbreeze and speed along until they were deep in the forest again. Then\nthe", "bins, indignantly. \"What right\nhad they to come to the forest and kill the pretty owl, and the dear\nlittle squirrel, and the poor mama 'possum and her babies?\"\n\n\"They had the right of power,\" said the eagle, calmly. \"It would be a\nbeautiful world were there no destroyers of life in it; but the earth\nand air and water would then soon become so crowded that there would\nnot be room for them all to exist. Don't blame the men.\"\n\n\"But they are cruel,\" said", "forest again and went among the birds to call them all to a\nmeeting. They obeyed the summons without delay, and were very indignant\nwhen they heard of the rebellion of the rooks and the insults that had\nbeen heaped upon their regularly elected officer. Judge Bullfinch\narrived with his head bandaged with soft feathers, for he had met the\nrook policeman and, when he remonstrated, had been severely pounded by\nthe wicked bird's club.\n\n\"But what can we do?\" he asked. \"The rooks", "\nLike all blustering, evil-disposed people, when they found themselves\nconquered they whined and humbled themselves before the victors and\ndeclared they would never again rebel against Policeman Bluejay, the\nregularly appointed guardian of the Law of the Forest. And I am told\nthat after this day the rooks, who are not rightly forest birds, betook\nthemselves to the nearest villages and farm houses, and contented\nthemselves with plaguing mankind, who could not revenge themselves as\neasily as the birds did", "the forest are good parents, helpful neighbors, and faithful friends.\nWhat better than this could be said of us?\"\n\n\"Nothing, I'm sure, if it is true,\" replied the girl.\n\n\"Over in the Land of Paradise,\" continued the owl, thoughtfully, \"the\nbirds are not obliged to take life in order to live themselves; so they\ncall us savage and fierce. But I believe our natures are as kindly as\nthose of the Birds of Paradise.\"\n\n\"Where is this Land of Paradise you speak of?\" asked Tw", "policeman, reluctantly. \"But I sometimes think\nthe goody-goody places would get awful tiresome to live in, after a\ntime. Here in our part of the forest there is a little excitement, for\nthe biggest birds only obey our laws through fear of punishment, and I\nunderstand it is just the same in the world of men. But in the Birds'\nParadise there lives but one race, every member of which is quite\nparticular not to annoy any of his fellows in any way. That is why they\nwill admit no disturbing element into their country.", ",\" he said to the rook, \"and\nlet them decide between us.\"\n\n\"That won't do any good,\" was the reply. \"We rooks have decided the\nmatter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,\nor all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them\nto serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?\"\n\n\"I'll think it over,\" said Policeman Bluejay.\n\n\"Oho! oho! He's", "because\nhe was seriously thinking; \"I have a plan for subduing these rebels,\nand it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long\njourney to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but\nmeet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be\nsure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we\nmust insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to\nthese rooks.\"\n\nWith these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly", "here.\nIt is pleasure enough for me to have just this glimpse of your\nbeautiful fairyland.\"\n\nThe Guardian nodded his approval of this speech.\n\n\"Very well,\" he answered, \"you shall remain and visit with me. If all\nforest birds were like you, my friend, there would be little danger in\nadmitting them into our society. But they are not, and the laws must be\nregarded. As for the child-larks, I will send them first to the King,\nin charge of the Royal Messenger, whom I will now summon.\"", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "? And they talk to us. At least, the\np'liceman and the eagle did.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" answered Twinkle, \"and I don't understand it a bit. I\nmust ask Mr. Bluejay to 'splain it to us.\"\n\n\"What's the use of a p'liceman in the forest?\" asked Chubbins, after a\nmoment's thought.\n\n\"I suppose,\" she replied, \"that he has to keep the birds from being\nnaughty. Some birds are just awful mischiefs, Ch", "wind moderated, and presently died away altogether, so that they\nwere forced to begin flying in order to continue their journey home.\n\nIt was now the middle of the afternoon, and the policeman said:\n\n\"I hope all has been quiet and orderly during my absence. There are so\nmany disturbing elements among the forest birds that I always worry\nwhen they are left alone for many hours at a time.\"\n\n\"I'm sure they have behaved themselves,\" returned Twinkle. \"They fear\nyour power so much that the evil-minded birds do not dare to offend you" ], [ "that it was Policeman Bluejay. He wore his official helmet\nand carried his club, and as soon as he came beside them he said:\n\n\"Thank goodness I've found you at last. I've been hunting for you an\nhour, and began to fear you had met with some misfortune.\"\n\n\"We've been with the eagle,\" said the girl. \"He saved our lives and\ncarried us away from where the dreadful men were.\"\n\n\"We have had sad doings in the forest today--very sad, indeed,\"\ndeclared the blue", "that, if you wish to visit the Paradise,\"\nresponded the bluejay; \"for the Guardian of the Entrance is a special\nfriend of mine, and will do whatever I ask him to.\"\n\n\"Will he, really?\" asked the girl, in delight.\n\n\"To be sure. Some day I will take you over there, and then you will see\nwhat powerful friends Policeman Bluejay has.\"\n\n\"I'd like that,\" declared Twinkle.\n\nTheir swift flight enabled them to cover the remaining distance very\nrapidly, and soon", ", and fly as swiftly as you can.\"\n\nLike a flash he darted high into the air, with Twinkle and Chubbins\nright behind him, and before the rooks could recover from their\nsurprise the three were far away.\n\nThen the big black birds gave chase, uttering screams of rage; but they\ncould not fly so swiftly as the bluejay and the larks, and were soon\nobliged to abandon the pursuit.\n\nWhen at last he knew that they had escaped the rooks, Policeman Bluejay\nentered the", "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "he makes them all\nafraid to disobey the laws. He's a wonderful fellow, that Policeman\nBluejay, and even we squirrels are glad he is in the forest.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Well, we also fear some of the birds,\" answered Wisk. \"The lady in the\nthird flat, for instance, Mrs. Hootaway, is said to like a squirrel for\na midnight meal now and then, when mice and beetles are scarce. It is\nalmost her hour for w", "to find us with birds' bodies?\"\n\n\"They'd yell and run,\" declared the boy.\n\n\"Then,\" said she, \"we must find the tingle-berries.\"\n\nThe bluejay flew with them to some bushes which he said were the kind\nthe tingle-berries grew upon, but they were all bare and not a single\nberry could be found.\n\n\"There must be more not far away,\" said the policeman, encouragingly.\n\"Let us look about us.\"\n\nThey found several clumps of the bushes, to be sure; but", "upon his errand.\n\nThe other birds looked after him earnestly.\n\n\"I think it will be well for us to follow his advice,\" said Judge\nBullfinch, after a pause. \"The bluejay is an able bird, and has had\nmuch experience. Besides, we have ever found him just and honorable\nsince the time we made him our policeman, so I feel that we may depend\nupon him in this emergency.\"\n\n\"Why, it is all we can do,\" replied a robin; and this remark was so\ntrue that the birds quietly dispers", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "afraid! He's a coward!\" yelled the rooks; and one of\nthem added:\n\n\"Stand up and fight, if you dare!\"\n\n\"I'll fight your false policeman, or any one of you at a time,\" replied\nthe bluejay.\n\n\"No, you won't; you'll fight us all together, or not at all,\" they\nanswered.\n\nThe bluejay knew it would be foolish to do that, so he turned away and\nwhispered to the lark-children:\n\n\"Follow me", "; so she plucked up courage and asked:\n\n\"Were you speaking to us?\"\n\n\"Very likely,\" replied the blue bird, in a cheerful tone. \"There's no\none else around to speak to.\"\n\n\"And was it you who warned us against that dreadful creature below in\nthe forest?\" she continued.\n\n\"It was.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Twinkle, \"we are very much obliged to you.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" said the other. \"I'm the forest policeman--\nPoliceman Bluejay", "policeman, \"and this\nspring Tom Titmouse and his wife Nancy set up housekeeping in a little\nhollow in an elm-tree about half a mile north of this spot. Of course,\nthe first thing Nancy did was to lay six beautiful eggs--white with\nbrown spots all over them--in the nest. Tom was as proud of these eggs\nas was Nancy, and as the nest was hidden in a safe place they flew away\ntogether to hunt for caterpillars, and had no thought of danger. But on\ntheir return an hour later what was their sorrow to", ".\n\nAfter the fight Policeman Bluejay thanked his cousins and sent them\nhome again, and then the birds all surrounded the policeman and cheered\nhim gratefully for his cleverness and bravery, so that he was the hero\nof the hour.\n\nJudge Bullfinch tried to make a fine speech, but the birds were too\nexcited to listen to his words, and he soon found himself without an\naudience.\n\nOf course, Twinkle and Chubbins took no part in the fight, but they had\nhovered in the background to", "\nbasket standing on the ground beside them. On a limb of the first tree\nof the forest sat silently regarding them a big blue bird that they\nknew must be Policeman Bluejay, although somehow or other he had lost\nhis glossy black helmet and the club he had carried underneath his\nwing.\n\n\"It's almost dark,\" said Twinkle, yawning. \"Let's go home, Chub.\"\n\n\"All right.\"\n\nHe picked up the basket, and for a few minutes they walked along in\nsilence.\n\nThen the boy", "of the mothers\nanxiously about that trick the babies had of keeping their bills open\nand crying for food, but she was told to pay no attention to such\nactions.\n\nNevertheless, the pleadings of the orphans, who were really stuffed\nfull of food, made the child-larks so nervous that they hailed with\ndelight the arrival of Policeman Bluejay in the early evening. The busy\nofficer had brought with him Mrs. Chaffinch, a widow whose husband had\nbeen killed a few days before by a savage wildcat.\n", "branch of the tree twenty-two\nbluejays, all in a row. They were large, splendidly plumaged birds,\nwith keen eyes and sharp bills, and at their head was the children's\nold friend, the policeman.\n\n\"These are my cousins,\" he said to the child-larks, proudly, \"and I\nhave brought them from another forest, where they live, to assist me. I\nam not afraid of the foolish rooks now, and in a moment we shall fly\naway to give them battle.\"\n\nThe forest birds were all", "eaters?\"\n\n\"Be quiet!\" cried Policeman Bluejay, sternly.\n\n\"I won't,\" snapped the raven.\n\nIt happened so quickly that the children saw nothing before they heard\nthe thump of the club against the raven's head.\n\n\"Caw--waw--waw--waw! Murder! Help!\" screamed the big bird, and flew\naway from the tree as swiftly as his ragged wings would carry him.\n\n\"Let him go,\" said a sweet brown mocking-bird. \"The rowdy is always", "ing merrily to one another throughout the forest, and the chipmonks\nchirped in their own brisk, businesslike way as they scuttled from tree\nto tree.\n\nWhile the child-larks were finishing their breakfast Policeman Bluejay\ncame to them, his feathers looking fresh and glossy and all his\ngorgeous colorings appearing especially beautiful in the sunshine.\n\n\"Today will be a rare day to visit the Paradise,\" he said; \"so I have\ncome to escort you to the Guardian of the Entrance,", "of all the bright-hued birds that live\namong the trees or seek them for shelter.\n\nThey flew in pairs, one after the other, and at the head of the\nprocession was their good friend Policeman Bluejay, wearing a\npoliceman's helmet upon his head and having a policeman's club tucked\nunderneath his left wing. The helmet was black and glossy and had a big\nnumber \"1\" on the front of it, and a strap that passed under the\nwearer's bill and held it firmly in place. The club was", "party here today,\" he continued,\n\"and they behaved pretty well while the policeman was around. But some\nof them might not be so friendly if you met them alone.\"\n\n\"Would any bird hurt us?\" asked the girl, in surprise.\n\n\"Why, I've seen a magpie meet a thrush, and fly away alone,\" replied\nWisk. \"And the wrens and chickadees avoid the cuckoo as much as\npossible, because they are fond of being alive. But the policeman keeps\nthe big birds all in order when he is around, and", ".\"\n\n\"This,\" said Policeman Bluejay, \"is the important official called the\nGuardian of the Entrance of Paradise. Sir Guardian, permit me to\nintroduce to you two children of men who have been magically\ntransformed into skylarks against their will. They are not quite birds,\nbecause their heads retain the human shape; but whatever form they may\nbear, their natures are sweet and innocent and I deem them worthy to\nassociate for a brief time with your splendid and regal race. Therefore\nI have brought them here to" ], [ "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "ub. There's the\nmagpies, you know, that steal; and the crows that fight; and the\njackdaws that are saucy, and lots of others that get into trouble.\nSeems to me P'liceman Bluejay's a pretty busy bird, if he looks after\nthings as he ought.\"\n\n\"Prob'ly he's got his hands full,\" said Chubbins.\n\n\"Not that; for he hasn't any hands, any more than we have. Perhaps you\nought to say he's got his wings full", ",\" he said to the rook, \"and\nlet them decide between us.\"\n\n\"That won't do any good,\" was the reply. \"We rooks have decided the\nmatter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,\nor all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them\nto serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?\"\n\n\"I'll think it over,\" said Policeman Bluejay.\n\n\"Oho! oho! He's", "of all the bright-hued birds that live\namong the trees or seek them for shelter.\n\nThey flew in pairs, one after the other, and at the head of the\nprocession was their good friend Policeman Bluejay, wearing a\npoliceman's helmet upon his head and having a policeman's club tucked\nunderneath his left wing. The helmet was black and glossy and had a big\nnumber \"1\" on the front of it, and a strap that passed under the\nwearer's bill and held it firmly in place. The club was", "policeman strut more absurdly than ever.\n\nThe bluejay was not only astonished at this rebellion but he was\nterribly angry as well.\n\n\"That is my policeman's helmet and club,\" he said sternly. \"Where did\nyou get them?\"\n\n\"At your nest, of course,\" retorted the other. \"We made up our minds\nthat we have had a miserable bluejay for a policeman long enough; so\nthe rooks elected me in your place, and I'm going to make you birds\nstand around and obey orders, I", "; so she plucked up courage and asked:\n\n\"Were you speaking to us?\"\n\n\"Very likely,\" replied the blue bird, in a cheerful tone. \"There's no\none else around to speak to.\"\n\n\"And was it you who warned us against that dreadful creature below in\nthe forest?\" she continued.\n\n\"It was.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Twinkle, \"we are very much obliged to you.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" said the other. \"I'm the forest policeman--\nPoliceman Bluejay", "eaters?\"\n\n\"Be quiet!\" cried Policeman Bluejay, sternly.\n\n\"I won't,\" snapped the raven.\n\nIt happened so quickly that the children saw nothing before they heard\nthe thump of the club against the raven's head.\n\n\"Caw--waw--waw--waw! Murder! Help!\" screamed the big bird, and flew\naway from the tree as swiftly as his ragged wings would carry him.\n\n\"Let him go,\" said a sweet brown mocking-bird. \"The rowdy is always", "that it was Policeman Bluejay. He wore his official helmet\nand carried his club, and as soon as he came beside them he said:\n\n\"Thank goodness I've found you at last. I've been hunting for you an\nhour, and began to fear you had met with some misfortune.\"\n\n\"We've been with the eagle,\" said the girl. \"He saved our lives and\ncarried us away from where the dreadful men were.\"\n\n\"We have had sad doings in the forest today--very sad, indeed,\"\ndeclared the blue", "of the mothers\nanxiously about that trick the babies had of keeping their bills open\nand crying for food, but she was told to pay no attention to such\nactions.\n\nNevertheless, the pleadings of the orphans, who were really stuffed\nfull of food, made the child-larks so nervous that they hailed with\ndelight the arrival of Policeman Bluejay in the early evening. The busy\nofficer had brought with him Mrs. Chaffinch, a widow whose husband had\nbeen killed a few days before by a savage wildcat.\n", "upon his errand.\n\nThe other birds looked after him earnestly.\n\n\"I think it will be well for us to follow his advice,\" said Judge\nBullfinch, after a pause. \"The bluejay is an able bird, and has had\nmuch experience. Besides, we have ever found him just and honorable\nsince the time we made him our policeman, so I feel that we may depend\nupon him in this emergency.\"\n\n\"Why, it is all we can do,\" replied a robin; and this remark was so\ntrue that the birds quietly dispers", "? And they talk to us. At least, the\np'liceman and the eagle did.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" answered Twinkle, \"and I don't understand it a bit. I\nmust ask Mr. Bluejay to 'splain it to us.\"\n\n\"What's the use of a p'liceman in the forest?\" asked Chubbins, after a\nmoment's thought.\n\n\"I suppose,\" she replied, \"that he has to keep the birds from being\nnaughty. Some birds are just awful mischiefs, Ch", "he makes them all\nafraid to disobey the laws. He's a wonderful fellow, that Policeman\nBluejay, and even we squirrels are glad he is in the forest.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Well, we also fear some of the birds,\" answered Wisk. \"The lady in the\nthird flat, for instance, Mrs. Hootaway, is said to like a squirrel for\na midnight meal now and then, when mice and beetles are scarce. It is\nalmost her hour for w", ", and fly as swiftly as you can.\"\n\nLike a flash he darted high into the air, with Twinkle and Chubbins\nright behind him, and before the rooks could recover from their\nsurprise the three were far away.\n\nThen the big black birds gave chase, uttering screams of rage; but they\ncould not fly so swiftly as the bluejay and the larks, and were soon\nobliged to abandon the pursuit.\n\nWhen at last he knew that they had escaped the rooks, Policeman Bluejay\nentered the", "Policeman Bluejay. \"For\nalthough he was innocent of this crime, he was still a butcher-bird,\nand he knew our people had no confidence in him.\"\n\n\"It was lucky Will Sparrow came in time,\" said the girl-lark. \"But all\nthese stories must have made you hungry, so I'd like to invite my\nguests to have some refreshments.\"\n\nThe birds seemed much surprised by this invitation, and even Policeman\nBluejay wondered what she was going to do. But Twinkle whispered to\nChubbins", ".\n\nAfter the fight Policeman Bluejay thanked his cousins and sent them\nhome again, and then the birds all surrounded the policeman and cheered\nhim gratefully for his cleverness and bravery, so that he was the hero\nof the hour.\n\nJudge Bullfinch tried to make a fine speech, but the birds were too\nexcited to listen to his words, and he soon found himself without an\naudience.\n\nOf course, Twinkle and Chubbins took no part in the fight, but they had\nhovered in the background to", "party here today,\" he continued,\n\"and they behaved pretty well while the policeman was around. But some\nof them might not be so friendly if you met them alone.\"\n\n\"Would any bird hurt us?\" asked the girl, in surprise.\n\n\"Why, I've seen a magpie meet a thrush, and fly away alone,\" replied\nWisk. \"And the wrens and chickadees avoid the cuckoo as much as\npossible, because they are fond of being alive. But the policeman keeps\nthe big birds all in order when he is around, and", ", the latter appearing\nsleepy because, they explained, they had been out late the night\nbefore.\n\nThese smaller birds all sat in rows on the limbs beside Twinkle and\nChubbins; but seated upon the stouter limbs facing them were rows of\nbigger birds who made the child-larks nervous by the sharp glances from\ntheir round, bright eyes. Here were blackbirds, cuckoos, magpies,\ngrosbeaks and wood-pigeons, all nearly as big and fierce-looking as\nPoliceman Bluejay himself", "\"I'm sure you can't accuse _me_\nof injuring birds in any way.\"\n\n\"If you are all innocent, why are we obliged to have a policeman?\"\nenquired the little wren, in a nervous voice.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Twinkle, appealing to the bluejay; \"are the big birds\nreally naughty to the little ones?\"\n\n\"Why, it is the same with us as it is with men,\" replied the policeman.\n\"There are good ones and bad ones among us, and the bad ones", "the branch.\n\nSeveral beautiful humming-birds were poised in the air above this\ngathering, their bodies being motionless but their tiny wings\nfluttering so swiftly that neither Twinkle nor Chubbins could see them\nat all.\n\nPoliceman Bluejay, having finally introduced all the company to the\nchild-larks, began to relate the story of their adventures, telling the\nbirds how the wicked tuxix had transformed them into the remarkable\nshapes they now possessed.\n\n\"For the honor of our race,\" he said,", "course. That's a fact.\" He turned his crested head\nupward, trying to think of a way, and saw a black speck moving across\nthe sky.\n\n\"Wait a minute! I'll be back,\" he called, and darted upward like a\nflash.\n\nThe children watched him mount into the sky toward the black speck, and\nheard his voice crying out in sharp, quick notes. And before long\nPoliceman Bluejay attracted the other bird's attention, causing it to\npause in its flight and sink slowly downward until the two drew" ], [ "oth of them had to cling fast to the branch with their toes, for their\narms and hands were now wings. The toes were long and sharp pointed, so\nthat they could be used in the place of fingers.\n\n\"My!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"you're a queer sight, Chubbins!\"\n\n\"So are you,\" answered the boy. \"That mean old thing must have 'witched\nus.\"\n\n\"Yes, we're 'chanted,\" said Twinkle. \"And now, what are we going to do\nabout it? We can't", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "shape, and cease to be a\nbird?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, if I could,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Then I will tell you how to do it,\" said the King. \"Since you told me\nyour strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a\ngood deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who\nwickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells\nme that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume\nyour natural form again. For", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "as the dining-table at home.\n\n\"All the better for us,\" said Twinkle, bending her head down to nibble\nat the edge of the cookie.\n\n\"If we're going to be birds,\" said Chubbins, who was also busily eating\nas best he could, \"we ought to be reg'lar birds, and have bills to peck\nwith. This being half one thing and half another doesn't suit me at\nall.\"\n\n\"The witch wasn't trying to suit us,\" replied Twinkle; \"she was trying\nto get", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "he went he seemed to grow\nvery small, and to change in shape.\n\n\"Wait!\" she cried. \"I'm coming, too!\"\n\nShe was afraid of losing Chubbins, so she flew after him, feeling\nrather queer herself, and a moment after was safe in the tall tree,\nclinging with her toes to a branch and looking in amazement at the boy\nwho sat beside her.\n\nChubbins had been transformed into a pretty little bird--all, that is,\nexcept his head, which was Chubbins' own head reduced in", "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", "'re smaller,\" replied Chubbins.\n\n\"But birds shouldn't have human heads,\" retorted the bluejay. \"I\nsuppose the old tuxix did that so the birds would not admit you into\ntheir society, for you are neither all bird nor all human. But never\nmind; I'll explain your case, and you may be sure all the birds of the\nforest will be kind to you.\"\n\n\"Must we stay like this always?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"I really can't say,\" answered the policeman. \"", "but she looked at him queerly, as if\nhis language was strange to her, and seemed to be half frightened.\n\n\"Guess I'll have to eat my berry,\" he said, with a laugh, and proceeded\nto pluck and eat it, as Twinkle had done. He yelled once or twice at\nthe cramp the fruit gave him, but as soon as the pain ceased he began\nto grow and change in the same way his little comrade had.\n\nBut not entirely. For although he got his human body and legs back\nagain, all in their natural", "it is withered, you see.\"\n\n\"That won't matter,\" returned the boy-lark. \"The Royal Necromancer said\nto eat one berry. He didn't say a little or a big one, you know, or\nwhether it should be plump or withered.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the girl-lark. \"Shall I eat mine now?\"\n\n\"The sooner the better,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Don't forget me, little friend, when you are a human again,\" said\nPoliceman Blue", "form quickly changed and grew larger; and while Chubbins\nand Policeman Bluejay watched her anxiously she became a girl again,\nand the bird's body with its soft gray feathers completely disappeared.\n\nAs she felt herself changing she called: \"Good-bye!\" to the bluejay;\nbut even then he could hardly understand her words.\n\n\"Good-bye!\" he answered, and to Twinkle's ears it sounded like\n\"Chir-r-rip-chee-wee!\"\n\n\"How did it feel?\" asked Chubbins;", "\n\"That's bad,\" observed Chubbins, uneasily.\n\n\"Well,\" said Twinkle, \"I'd be willing to have a pain or two, just to be\nmyself again.\"\n\n\"So would I, if it comes to that,\" agreed the boy. \"But I'd rather have\nfound a way to be myself without getting the pain.\"\n\n\"There is usually but one thing that will overcome an enchantment,\"\nremarked the bluejay, seriously; \"and if it is a tingle-berry that will\ndestroy the charm which the", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", "they are gentle and\ninnocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both.\"\n\n\"They are certainly very curious,\" remarked the King, staring at the\nhuman heads upon the lark bodies. \"May I ask you, little strangers, how\nyou happen to exist in your present form?\"\n\nTwinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that\nhad fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story\nof their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of\nParadise present listened", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "cruel and wicked. The children could not see how many legs\nit had, but they must have been very short, because the creature moved\nso slowly over the ground.\n\nWhen it had drawn near to them it said, in a pleading tone that sounded\nsoft and rather musical:\n\n\"Little girl, pick me up in your arms, and pet me!\"\n\nTwinkle shrank back.\n\n\"My! I couldn't _think_ of doing such a thing,\" she answered.\n\nThen the creature said:\n\n\"Little boy, please pick me up in your", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n", "-lark, clutched the cup firmly with her toes and flew back to\nthe orphans without spilling more than a few drops. They managed to\npour some of the water into each open mouth, and then Twinkle said:\n\n\"There! they won't die of either hunger or thirst in a hurry, Chub. So\nnow we can feed ourselves.\"\n\n\"Their mouths are still open,\" returned the boy, doubtfully.\n\n\"It must be a habit they have,\" she answered. \"Wouldn't you think\nthey'd get tired" ], [ "but she looked at him queerly, as if\nhis language was strange to her, and seemed to be half frightened.\n\n\"Guess I'll have to eat my berry,\" he said, with a laugh, and proceeded\nto pluck and eat it, as Twinkle had done. He yelled once or twice at\nthe cramp the fruit gave him, but as soon as the pain ceased he began\nto grow and change in the same way his little comrade had.\n\nBut not entirely. For although he got his human body and legs back\nagain, all in their natural", "he went he seemed to grow\nvery small, and to change in shape.\n\n\"Wait!\" she cried. \"I'm coming, too!\"\n\nShe was afraid of losing Chubbins, so she flew after him, feeling\nrather queer herself, and a moment after was safe in the tall tree,\nclinging with her toes to a branch and looking in amazement at the boy\nwho sat beside her.\n\nChubbins had been transformed into a pretty little bird--all, that is,\nexcept his head, which was Chubbins' own head reduced in", "form quickly changed and grew larger; and while Chubbins\nand Policeman Bluejay watched her anxiously she became a girl again,\nand the bird's body with its soft gray feathers completely disappeared.\n\nAs she felt herself changing she called: \"Good-bye!\" to the bluejay;\nbut even then he could hardly understand her words.\n\n\"Good-bye!\" he answered, and to Twinkle's ears it sounded like\n\"Chir-r-rip-chee-wee!\"\n\n\"How did it feel?\" asked Chubbins;", "size, his wings remained as they were, and\nit startled him to find that the magic power had passed and he was\nstill partly a bird.\n\n\"What's the matter?\" asked Twinkle.\n\n\"Is anything wrong?\" enquired the bluejay.\n\nThe boy understood them both, although they could not now understand\neach other. He said to Twinkle:\n\n\"I guess the berry wasn't quite big enough.\" Then he repeated the same\nthing in the bird language to Policeman Bluejay, and it sounded to\nTwinkle like:", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "as the dining-table at home.\n\n\"All the better for us,\" said Twinkle, bending her head down to nibble\nat the edge of the cookie.\n\n\"If we're going to be birds,\" said Chubbins, who was also busily eating\nas best he could, \"we ought to be reg'lar birds, and have bills to peck\nwith. This being half one thing and half another doesn't suit me at\nall.\"\n\n\"The witch wasn't trying to suit us,\" replied Twinkle; \"she was trying\nto get", "oth of them had to cling fast to the branch with their toes, for their\narms and hands were now wings. The toes were long and sharp pointed, so\nthat they could be used in the place of fingers.\n\n\"My!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"you're a queer sight, Chubbins!\"\n\n\"So are you,\" answered the boy. \"That mean old thing must have 'witched\nus.\"\n\n\"Yes, we're 'chanted,\" said Twinkle. \"And now, what are we going to do\nabout it? We can't", "almost in despair, when a sharp cry from Policeman Bluejay\ndrew the child-larks to his side.\n\n\"What is it?\" enquired the girl, trembling with nervous excitement.\n\n\"Why,\" said the policeman, \"here is a bush at last, and on it are\nexactly two ripe tingle-berries!\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XXII] _The Transformation_\n\nThey looked earnestly at the bush, and saw that their friend spoke\ntruly. Upon a high limb was one plump, red berry,", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "'re smaller,\" replied Chubbins.\n\n\"But birds shouldn't have human heads,\" retorted the bluejay. \"I\nsuppose the old tuxix did that so the birds would not admit you into\ntheir society, for you are neither all bird nor all human. But never\nmind; I'll explain your case, and you may be sure all the birds of the\nforest will be kind to you.\"\n\n\"Must we stay like this always?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"I really can't say,\" answered the policeman. \"", "shape, and cease to be a\nbird?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes, if I could,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Then I will tell you how to do it,\" said the King. \"Since you told me\nyour strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a\ngood deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who\nwickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells\nme that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume\nyour natural form again. For", "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "the branch.\n\nSeveral beautiful humming-birds were poised in the air above this\ngathering, their bodies being motionless but their tiny wings\nfluttering so swiftly that neither Twinkle nor Chubbins could see them\nat all.\n\nPoliceman Bluejay, having finally introduced all the company to the\nchild-larks, began to relate the story of their adventures, telling the\nbirds how the wicked tuxix had transformed them into the remarkable\nshapes they now possessed.\n\n\"For the honor of our race,\" he said,", "it hung down to his middle, and over his eyes were round plates\nof glass that glittered very curiously. I was so astonished at seeing\nthe queer creature that I sat still and stared, and this was my\nundoing. For suddenly there came a rapid 'whish!' through the air, and\na network of cords fell all around and over me. Then, indeed, I spread\nmy wings and attempted to fly; but it was too late. I struggled in the\nnet without avail, and soon gave up the conflict in breathless despair.\n\n\"My captor did", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", ",\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"That reminds me I'm hungry,\" chirped the boy-lark.\n\n\"Well, we've got the basket,\" she replied.\n\n\"But how can we eat cake and things, witched up as we are?\"\n\n\"Haven't we mouths and teeth, just the same as ever?\"\n\n\"Yes, but we haven't any hands, and there's a cloth tied over the top\nof the basket.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"I hadn't thought of that.\"\n", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "streak and struck\nthe dog's back, tearing the flesh with its powerful talons and driving\na stout, merciless beak straight through the skull of the savage brute.\n\nThe dog, already dead, straightened out and twitched convulsively. The\nman shouted angrily and sprang upon the huge bird that had slain his\npet, at the same time swinging his gun like a club.\n\n\"Quick!\" said the eagle to Twinkle, \"mount with me as swiftly as you\ncan.\"\n\nWith the words he rose into the" ], [ "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "Y PALACE\nTHE BATTLE\n\"IT'S ALMOST DARK. LET'S GO HOME\"\n\n\n[CHAPTER I] _Little Ones in Trouble_\n\n\"SEEMS to me, Chub,\" said Twinkle, \"that we're lost.\"\n\n\"Seems to me, Twink,\" said Chubbins, \"that it isn't _we_ that's lost.\nIt's the path.\"\n\n\"It was here a minute ago,\" declared Twinkle.\n\n\"But it isn't", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n", "\n\"Folks will be worried about us, Twink,\" said Chubbins.\n\n\"'Course they will,\" Twinkle replied. \"They'll wonder what has become\nof us, and try to find us.\"\n\n\"But they won't look in the tree-tops.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Nor think to ask the birds where we are.\"\n\n\"Why should they?\" enquired Twinkle. \"They can't talk to the birds,\nChub.\"\n\n\"Why not? We talk to them, don't we", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "\nbasket standing on the ground beside them. On a limb of the first tree\nof the forest sat silently regarding them a big blue bird that they\nknew must be Policeman Bluejay, although somehow or other he had lost\nhis glossy black helmet and the club he had carried underneath his\nwing.\n\n\"It's almost dark,\" said Twinkle, yawning. \"Let's go home, Chub.\"\n\n\"All right.\"\n\nHe picked up the basket, and for a few minutes they walked along in\nsilence.\n\nThen the boy", "air and Twinkle darted after him, while\nChubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time\nto escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.\n\nThe inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what\nwas happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his\nbreast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his\nagonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An\ninstant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and", "Yes, indeed!\" cried Twinkle; \"if you will be kind enough to let us.\"\n\n\"It will be a great pleasure to me,\" said the eagle. \"Follow me\nclosely, please.\"\n\nHe began flying again, and they kept at his side. By and by they\nnoticed a bright, rosy glow coming from a portion of the forest beneath\nthem.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"It is the place called the Paradise of Birds,\" answered their\nconductor. \"It is said to be the most beautiful", "s\nworse at night. That bunch of grass mixed up with the stems of leaves,\nthat they call a nest, isn't much like my pretty white bed at home,\nChubbins.\"\n\n\"Nor mine,\" he agreed. \"And, Twink, how ever can we say our prayers\nwhen we haven't any hands to hold up together?\"\n\n\"Prayers, Chub,\" said the girl, \"are more in our hearts than in our\nhands. It isn't what we _do_ that counts; it's what we feel. But", "the\nmost that bothers me is what the folks at home will think, when we\ndon't come back.\"\n\n\"They'll hunt for us,\" Chubbins suggested; \"and they may come under\nthis tree, and call to us.\"\n\n\"If they do,\" said Twinkle, \"we'll fly right down to them.\"\n\n\"I advise you not to fly much, in the night,\" said a cheery voice\nbeside them, and Wisk the squirrel stuck his head out of the hollow\nwhere he lived. \"You've had quite a", "\n\n\"I'd rather die!\" declared Chubbins, mournfully.\n\nThe bluejay became very thoughtful.\n\n\"If we could find some of the tingle bushes growing near the shade of\nthe forest,\" he said at last, \"there might still be some berries\nremaining on them. Out here in the bright sunshine the berries soon\nwither and drop off and disappear.\"\n\n\"Then let us look near the trees,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\nThey searched for a long time unsuccessfully. It was growing late, and\nthey were", "now?\" asked the King, turning his eyes upon\nthe lark-children.\n\n\"It must be the prettiest place in all the world!\" cried Twinkle, with\nreal enthusiasm.\n\nHis Majesty seemed much pleased. \"I am very sorry you cannot live here\nalways,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm not,\" declared Chubbins. \"It's too pretty. I'd get tired of it\nsoon.\"\n\n\"He means,\" said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark\nwould displease the kindly King", "s. Twinkle seized the spoon before her in one claw and\ndipped up a portion of the strange food, which resembled charlotte\nrusse in appearance. When she tasted it she found it delicious; so she\neagerly ate all that the blossom contained.\n\nWhen she looked around for Chubbins she found he was gone. He had\nemptied his cup and carried the golden spoon to another blossom on a\nhigher limb, where the girl discovered him eating as fast as he could\ndip up the food.\n\n\"Let us", "lightly as bubbles, and soon a\njoyous thrill took possession of them and they began to understand why\nit is that the free, wild birds are always so happy in their native\nstate.\n\nThe forest was everywhere under them, for it was of vast extent.\nPresently the bluejay swooped downward and alighted near the top of a\ntall maple tree that had many thick branches.\n\nIn a second Twinkle and Chubbins were beside him, their little hearts\nbeating fast in their glossy bosoms from the excitement of their rapid\nfl", "their breaths, but before this\nhappened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at\nthe sight that met their eyes.\n\nBefore them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but\nhaving trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite\nmetallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers,\nexceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked\nupon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then\nsang a song so sweet", "describe.\n\nBoth Twinkle and Chubbins gasped with amazement and delight as, at the\ncommand of Ephel, they alighted upon a lowly branch of the golden bush\nand bowed their heads before the ruler of the birds' fairyland.\n\n\"Ah, whom have we here?\" asked the King, in a soft voice, as he\nstrutted and proudly turned himself upon his perch.\n\n\"Strangers, your Majesty,\" answered the Messenger. \"They are sent to\nyou by the Guardian of the Entrance because", "suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts\nof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.\n\nBut either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to\nbother the little child-larks.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_\n\nThe next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky\nwas a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the\ntrees. Even before Twinkle and Chubbins were awake the birds were\ncall" ], [ "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "talked for an hour, and Wisk told them stories of the\nforest, and of the many queer animals and birds that lived there. It\nwas all very interesting to the children, and they listened eagerly\nuntil they heard a rushing sound in the air that sent Wisk scurrying\nback into his hole.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IV] _An Afternoon Reception_\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins stretched their little necks to see what was\ncoming, and a moment later beheld one of the most gorgeous sights the\nforest affords--a procession", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "Yes, indeed!\" cried Twinkle; \"if you will be kind enough to let us.\"\n\n\"It will be a great pleasure to me,\" said the eagle. \"Follow me\nclosely, please.\"\n\nHe began flying again, and they kept at his side. By and by they\nnoticed a bright, rosy glow coming from a portion of the forest beneath\nthem.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"It is the place called the Paradise of Birds,\" answered their\nconductor. \"It is said to be the most beautiful", "their breaths, but before this\nhappened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at\nthe sight that met their eyes.\n\nBefore them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but\nhaving trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite\nmetallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers,\nexceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked\nupon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then\nsang a song so sweet", "suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts\nof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.\n\nBut either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to\nbother the little child-larks.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_\n\nThe next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky\nwas a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the\ntrees. Even before Twinkle and Chubbins were awake the birds were\ncall", "the\nmost that bothers me is what the folks at home will think, when we\ndon't come back.\"\n\n\"They'll hunt for us,\" Chubbins suggested; \"and they may come under\nthis tree, and call to us.\"\n\n\"If they do,\" said Twinkle, \"we'll fly right down to them.\"\n\n\"I advise you not to fly much, in the night,\" said a cheery voice\nbeside them, and Wisk the squirrel stuck his head out of the hollow\nwhere he lived. \"You've had quite a", "not very big, but they're better than no breakfast at\nall.\"\n\n\"You're dis'greeable things!\" said Twinkle, indignantly; \"and I don't\nlike you a bit. So _there!\"_\n\n\"Come on, Twink,\" said Chubbins. \"Let's go away.\"\n\n\"I will take you back to the forest,\" the eagle declared, and at once\nrose into the air. Twinkle and Chubbins followed him, and soon the nest\non the crag was left far behind and they could", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around", "thing that\nwould be.\"\n\n\"Be careful!\" cried the clear voice, again. \"It is the tuxix herself\nwho is talking to you. Don't believe a word you hear!\"\n\nAt this the red eyes of the creature flashed fire with anger, and it\ntried to turn its clumsy body around to find the speaker. Twinkle and\nChubbins looked too, but only heard a flutter and a mocking laugh\ncoming from the trees.\n\n\"If I get my eye on that bird, it will never speak again,\" exclaimed\nthe", "air and Twinkle darted after him, while\nChubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time\nto escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.\n\nThe inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what\nwas happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his\nbreast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his\nagonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An\ninstant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and", "and\nChubbins was not long in following her example.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IX] _The Destroyers_\n\nA loud shouting and a bang that echoed like a clap of thunder through\nthe forest awoke the bird-children from their dreams.\n\nOpening their eyes with a start they saw that the gray dawn was\nbreaking and a sort of morning twilight made all objects in the forest\ndistinct, yet not so brilliant as the approaching daylight would.\nShadows still lay among the bushes and the thickest branches; but\nbetween the", "at this\ntransformation with wondering eyes.\n\n\"It's a trap,\" said Chubbins; \"and we're in it.\"\n\n\"It looks that way,\" replied Twinkle, thoughtfully. \"Isn't it lucky,\nChub, we have the basket with us? If it wasn't for that, we might\nstarve to death in our prison.\"\n\n\"Oh, well,\" replied the little fellow, \"the basket won't last long.\nThere's plenty of starve in the bottom of it, Twinkle, any way you can\n", "lightly as bubbles, and soon a\njoyous thrill took possession of them and they began to understand why\nit is that the free, wild birds are always so happy in their native\nstate.\n\nThe forest was everywhere under them, for it was of vast extent.\nPresently the bluejay swooped downward and alighted near the top of a\ntall maple tree that had many thick branches.\n\nIn a second Twinkle and Chubbins were beside him, their little hearts\nbeating fast in their glossy bosoms from the excitement of their rapid\nfl", "\"What are we going to eat?\"\n\n\"Eat!\" answered the bluejay, as if surprised. \"Why, you may feast upon\nall the good things the forest offers--grubs, beetles, worms, and\nbutterfly-eggs.\"\n\n\"Ugh!\" gasped Chubbins. \"It makes me sick to just think of it.\"\n\n\"What!\"\n\n\"You see,\" said Twinkle, \"we are not _all_ birds, Mr. Bluejay, as you\nare; and that makes a big difference. We", "go home, for our folks would be scared nearly into\nfits. And we don't know the way home, either.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" said Chubbins, fluttering his little wings to keep from\nfalling, for he had nearly lost his balance.\n\n\"What shall we do?\" she continued.\n\n\"Why, fly around and be gay and happy,\" said a clear and merry voice\nbeside them. \"That's what birds are expected to do!\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER II] _The Forest Guardian_\n\nTwinkle" ], [ "eyes might observe the\nchild-larks; \"what curious creatures have you here, my good policeman?\"\n\n\"Why, it is another trick of old Hautau, the tuxix. She found two\nchildren in the forest and enchanted them. She wanted to make them\ntoads, but they wouldn't touch her, so she couldn't. Then she got\nherself into a fine rage and made the little dears half birds and half\nchildren, as you see them. I was in a tree near by, and saw the whole\nthing. Because I was sorry", "cruel and wicked. The children could not see how many legs\nit had, but they must have been very short, because the creature moved\nso slowly over the ground.\n\nWhen it had drawn near to them it said, in a pleading tone that sounded\nsoft and rather musical:\n\n\"Little girl, pick me up in your arms, and pet me!\"\n\nTwinkle shrank back.\n\n\"My! I couldn't _think_ of doing such a thing,\" she answered.\n\nThen the creature said:\n\n\"Little boy, please pick me up in your", "oth of them had to cling fast to the branch with their toes, for their\narms and hands were now wings. The toes were long and sharp pointed, so\nthat they could be used in the place of fingers.\n\n\"My!\" exclaimed Twinkle; \"you're a queer sight, Chubbins!\"\n\n\"So are you,\" answered the boy. \"That mean old thing must have 'witched\nus.\"\n\n\"Yes, we're 'chanted,\" said Twinkle. \"And now, what are we going to do\nabout it? We can't", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "arms, and pet me!\"\n\n\"Go 'way!\" shouted Chubbins. \"I wouldn't touch you for anything.\"\n\nThe creature turned its red eyes first upon one and then upon the\nother.\n\n\"Listen, my dears,\" it continued; \"I was once a beautiful maiden, but a\ncruel tuxix transformed me into this awful shape, and so must I remain\nuntil some child willingly takes me in its arms and pets me. Then, and\nnot till then, will I be restored to my proper form.\"\n\n\"Don't believe", "a comic tone.\n\"Dear me! how came you birds to have children's heads?\"\n\n\"That isn't the way to put it,\" remarked Chubbins, staring back into\nthe eyes of the squirrel. \"You should ask how we children happened to\nhave birds' bodies.\"\n\n\"Very well; put the conundrum that way, if you like,\" said the\nsquirrel. \"What is the answer?\"\n\n\"We are enchanted,\" replied Twinkle.\n\n\"Ah. The tuxix?\"\n\n\"Yes. We were", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "as the dining-table at home.\n\n\"All the better for us,\" said Twinkle, bending her head down to nibble\nat the edge of the cookie.\n\n\"If we're going to be birds,\" said Chubbins, who was also busily eating\nas best he could, \"we ought to be reg'lar birds, and have bills to peck\nwith. This being half one thing and half another doesn't suit me at\nall.\"\n\n\"The witch wasn't trying to suit us,\" replied Twinkle; \"she was trying\nto get", "he went he seemed to grow\nvery small, and to change in shape.\n\n\"Wait!\" she cried. \"I'm coming, too!\"\n\nShe was afraid of losing Chubbins, so she flew after him, feeling\nrather queer herself, and a moment after was safe in the tall tree,\nclinging with her toes to a branch and looking in amazement at the boy\nwho sat beside her.\n\nChubbins had been transformed into a pretty little bird--all, that is,\nexcept his head, which was Chubbins' own head reduced in", "has earned a bad character he is\nthought capable of any wickedness. So the jury declared him guilty, and\nthe judge condemned him to die at sundown. We were all to fall upon the\nprisoner together, and tear him into bits with bill and claw; but while\nwe waited for the sun to sink Will Sparrow flew up to the Judgment Tree\nand said:\n\n\"'Hello! What's going on here?'\n\n\"'We are just about to execute a criminal,' replied the judge.\n\n\"'What has he been doing?' asked", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "\n\"That's bad,\" observed Chubbins, uneasily.\n\n\"Well,\" said Twinkle, \"I'd be willing to have a pain or two, just to be\nmyself again.\"\n\n\"So would I, if it comes to that,\" agreed the boy. \"But I'd rather have\nfound a way to be myself without getting the pain.\"\n\n\"There is usually but one thing that will overcome an enchantment,\"\nremarked the bluejay, seriously; \"and if it is a tingle-berry that will\ndestroy the charm which the", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "thing that\nwould be.\"\n\n\"Be careful!\" cried the clear voice, again. \"It is the tuxix herself\nwho is talking to you. Don't believe a word you hear!\"\n\nAt this the red eyes of the creature flashed fire with anger, and it\ntried to turn its clumsy body around to find the speaker. Twinkle and\nChubbins looked too, but only heard a flutter and a mocking laugh\ncoming from the trees.\n\n\"If I get my eye on that bird, it will never speak again,\" exclaimed\nthe", "old tuxix put upon you, then nothing else\nwill answer the same purpose. The Royal Necromancer is very wise, and\nyou may depend upon what he says. But it is late, at this season, for\ntingle-berries. They do not grow at all times of the year, and we may\nnot be able to find any upon the bushes.\"\n\n\"Cannot we go at once and find out?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously.\n\n\"To be sure. It will grieve me to lose you, my little friends, but I\nwant to do what will give", "it is withered, you see.\"\n\n\"That won't matter,\" returned the boy-lark. \"The Royal Necromancer said\nto eat one berry. He didn't say a little or a big one, you know, or\nwhether it should be plump or withered.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the girl-lark. \"Shall I eat mine now?\"\n\n\"The sooner the better,\" Chubbins replied.\n\n\"Don't forget me, little friend, when you are a human again,\" said\nPoliceman Blue", "they are gentle and\ninnocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both.\"\n\n\"They are certainly very curious,\" remarked the King, staring at the\nhuman heads upon the lark bodies. \"May I ask you, little strangers, how\nyou happen to exist in your present form?\"\n\nTwinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that\nhad fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story\nof their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of\nParadise present listened", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "it! Don't believe it!\" cried a high, clear voice, and\nboth the boy and the girl looked quickly around to see who had spoken.\nBut no one besides themselves was in sight, and they only noticed a\nthick branch of one of the trees slightly swaying its leaves.\n\n\"What is a tuxix?\" asked Twinkle, who was beginning to feel sorry for\nthe poor creature.\n\n\"It is a magician, a sorcerer, a wizard, and a witch all rolled into\none,\" was the answer; \"and you can imagine what a dreadful" ], [ "the cheese?\"\n\n\"Neither one,\" Twinkle replied. \"The sandwiches will be best for them.\nWait; I'll pick out some of the meat that is between the slices of\nbread. They'll be sure to like that.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" agreed Chubbins, promptly. \"They'll think it's bugs.\"\n\nSo each one dragged out a big piece of meat from a sandwich, and by\nholding it fast in one claw they managed to fly with the burden to the\nnest of the goldfinch babies.\n", "unfortunately\nno berries were now growing upon them, and at each failure the children\ngrew more and more sad and despondent.\n\n\"If we have to wait until the bushes bear again,\" Twinkle remarked, \"it\nwill be nearly a year, and I'm sure we can't live in the forest all\nwinter.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" asked the policeman.\n\n\"The food in our basket would all be gone, and then we would starve to\ndeath,\" was the reply. \"We can't eat bugs and worms, you know.\"", "\"What are we going to eat?\"\n\n\"Eat!\" answered the bluejay, as if surprised. \"Why, you may feast upon\nall the good things the forest offers--grubs, beetles, worms, and\nbutterfly-eggs.\"\n\n\"Ugh!\" gasped Chubbins. \"It makes me sick to just think of it.\"\n\n\"What!\"\n\n\"You see,\" said Twinkle, \"we are not _all_ birds, Mr. Bluejay, as you\nare; and that makes a big difference. We", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "-lark, clutched the cup firmly with her toes and flew back to\nthe orphans without spilling more than a few drops. They managed to\npour some of the water into each open mouth, and then Twinkle said:\n\n\"There! they won't die of either hunger or thirst in a hurry, Chub. So\nnow we can feed ourselves.\"\n\n\"Their mouths are still open,\" returned the boy, doubtfully.\n\n\"It must be a habit they have,\" she answered. \"Wouldn't you think\nthey'd get tired", "reflectively as she\nperched her own brown body upon the edge of the deep nest.\n\n\"Might try it,\" suggested the boy. \"The cop says they're not\nparticular, and what's good enough for us ought to be good enough for\nthem.\"\n\nSo they flew to where the basket hung among the thick leaves of the\ntree, which had served to prevent the men from discovering it, and\ncrept underneath the cloth that covered it.\n\n\"Which do you think they'd like best,\" asked Chubbins, \"the pickles or\n", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "he ate it; and seeing his success Twinkle\nfollowed his example, and after a few attempts found she could eat very\ncomfortably in that way.\n\nHaving had their luncheon--and it amazed Chubbins to see how very\nlittle was required to satisfy their hunger--the bird-children crept\nout of the basket and flew down to the twig beside their nest.\n\n\"Hello!\" cried a strange voice. \"Newcomers, eh?\"\n\nThey were so startled that they fluttered a moment to keep from\ntumbling off the lim", "\nThey flew together to the basket and perched upon the edge of it. It\nseemed astonishingly big to them, now that they were so small; but\nChubbins remarked that this fact was a pleasant one, for instead of\neating all the good things the basket contained at one meal, as they\nhad at first intended, it would furnish them with food for many days to\ncome.\n\nBut how to get into the basket was the thing to be considered just now.\nThey fluttered around on every side of it, and finally found a small\nplace where the cloth", "treated. And even if this were not so, the larks are too small to\nsatisfy your hunger, you little gluttons.\"\n\n\"Jonathan,\" said Mrs. Eagle, coldly, \"do not reproach our offspring for\ntheir hunger. We sent you out this morning to procure a supply of food,\nand we expected you to bring us home something good to eat, instead of\nthese useless little creatures.\"\n\nThe eagle seemed annoyed at being scolded in this manner.\n\n\"I had an adventure in the forest,\" he said", "for each of us!\" screamed the other eaglet, rushing at Chubbins.\n\n\"Peace--be quiet!\" said the eagle, sternly. \"Cannot you tell friends\nfrom food, you foolish youngsters? These are two little friends of mine\nwhom I have invited to visit us; so you must treat them in a civil\nmanner.\"\n\n\"Why not eat them?\" asked one of the eaglets, looking at the\nchild-larks with hungry eyes.\n\n\"Because I forbid you. They are my guests, and must be protected and\nwell", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above", "and yellow\nleaves. Scattered about among the branches were blossoms of a delicate\npink color, shaped like a cup and resembling somewhat the flower of the\nmorning-glory.\n\n\"Are you hungry?\" asked Ephel.\n\n\"Oh, I could eat something, I guess,\" said Chubbins.\n\nThe Messenger flew to one of the trees and alighted upon a branch where\nthree of the pink, cup-shaped flowers grew in a row. The children\nfollowed him, and sitting one before each blossom they looked within\nthe", "and which had not. But the child-larks were positive that each one\nhad had enough to keep it from starving, because there was a big bunch\nin front of each little breast that was a certain proof of a full crop.\n\nThe next task of the guardians was to give the birdlets drink; so\nTwinkle and Chubbins flew to the brook and by hunting around a while\nthey found an acorn-cup that had fallen from one of the oak trees. This\nthey filled with water, and then Twinkle, who was a trifle larger than\nthe boy", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "early in the day, Jonathan, that I advise you to go again in\nsearch of food. Our sweet darlings will not be comforted until they\nhave eaten.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" answered the eagle. \"I am sorry you cannot treat my guests\nmore politely, for they are all unaccustomed to such rudeness. But I\nsee that it will be better for me to take them away with me at once.\"\n\n\"Do,\" said Mrs. Eagle; and the eaglets cried: \"Better let us eat 'em,\ndaddy. They are", "fix it.\"\n\n\"That's so; unless we can get out. Whatever do you suppose made the\ntrees behave that way, Chubbins?\n\n\"Don't know,\" said the boy.\n\nJust then a queer creature dropped from a tree into the ring and began\nmoving slowly toward them. It was flat in shape, like a big turtle;\nonly it hadn't a turtle's hard shell. Instead, its body was covered\nwith sharp prickers, like rose thorns, and it had two small red eyes\nthat looked", "\n\"Don't give it to 'em all at once,\" cautioned the girl. \"It would choke\n'em.\"\n\n\"I know,\" said Chubbins.\n\nHe tore off a tiny bit of the meat and dropped it into one of the\nwide-open bills. Instantly it was gone and the mouth was open again for\nmore. They tried to divide the dinner equally among them, but they all\nlooked so alike and were so ravenous to eat everything that was dropped\ninto their bills that it was hard work to keep track of which had been\nfed", "s\nworse at night. That bunch of grass mixed up with the stems of leaves,\nthat they call a nest, isn't much like my pretty white bed at home,\nChubbins.\"\n\n\"Nor mine,\" he agreed. \"And, Twink, how ever can we say our prayers\nwhen we haven't any hands to hold up together?\"\n\n\"Prayers, Chub,\" said the girl, \"are more in our hearts than in our\nhands. It isn't what we _do_ that counts; it's what we feel. But" ], [ "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "for the innocent victims I befriended them,\nand as this basket belongs to them I have asked you to fetch it to\ntheir nest.\"\n\n\"I am glad to be of service,\" replied the eagle. \"If ever you need me,\nand I am anywhere around,\" he continued, addressing the larks, \"just\ncall me, and I will come at once.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Twinkle, gratefully.\n\n\"We're much obliged,\" added Chubbins.\n\nThen the eagle flew away, and when he was gone Polic", "air and Twinkle darted after him, while\nChubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time\nto escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.\n\nThe inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what\nwas happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his\nbreast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his\nagonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An\ninstant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and", "But, even as she spoke, the words sounded in her own ears strange and\nunnatural, and more like the chirping of a bird than the language of\nmen. The hunter either did not hear her or he did not understand her,\nand the dog snarled and bared its wicked teeth as it sprang greedily\nupon the child-lark.\n\nTwinkle was too terrified to move. She glared upon the approaching\nmonster helplessly, and it had almost reached her when a black object\nfell from the skies with the swiftness of a lightning", "\nbeneath them.\n\n\"Oh-h-h!\" wailed Mrs. Hootaway, fluttering violently beside them. \"They\nstruck me that time--the bullet is in my heart. Good-bye, my dears.\nRemember that--all--is love; all is--love!\"\n\nHer voice died away to a whisper, and she toppled from the limb.\nTwinkle and Chubbins tried to save their dying friend from falling, but\nthe gray owl was so much bigger than they that they could not support\nthe weight of her body", "little ones.\"\n\n\"Chubbins and I have 'dopted the goldfinches,\" said Twinkle, \"so we will\nlook after them now. But it was very nice of you, Mrs. Redbreast, to\ntake take care of them until we arrived.\"\n\n\"Well, I like to be neighborly,\" returned the pretty bird; \"and as long\nas cruel men enter our forest no mother can tell how soon her own\nlittle ones will be orphaned and left helpless.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman, nodding gravely.\n", "Yes, indeed!\" cried Twinkle; \"if you will be kind enough to let us.\"\n\n\"It will be a great pleasure to me,\" said the eagle. \"Follow me\nclosely, please.\"\n\nHe began flying again, and they kept at his side. By and by they\nnoticed a bright, rosy glow coming from a portion of the forest beneath\nthem.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"It is the place called the Paradise of Birds,\" answered their\nconductor. \"It is said to be the most beautiful", "suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts\nof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.\n\nBut either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to\nbother the little child-larks.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_\n\nThe next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky\nwas a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the\ntrees. Even before Twinkle and Chubbins were awake the birds were\ncall", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", "was flying as\nhard and swift as his wonderful lark wings could carry him up, up into\nthe blue sky.\n\nThe sunshine touched them now, while below the tragic forest still lay\nburied in gloom.\n\n\"We are quite safe here, for I am sure no shot from a gun could reach\nus,\" said the eagle. \"So let us rest upon our wings for a while. How\nlucky it was that I happened to be around in time to rescue you, my\nlittle friends.\"\n\n\"I am very grateful, indeed,\" answered Twinkle, holding her", "tearing her four\nbabies limb from limb!\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" whispered Twinkle, her little heart beating as\nviolently as if the dread destroyers had always been her mortal\nenemies.\n\n\"Just below us. Isn't it dreadful? We had such a nice night together,\nand Mrs. 'Possum was so sweet and loving in caring for her little ones\nand feeding them! And, just as we were nearly home again, the dogs\nsprang upon my friend and the men shot her dead. We had not even\nsus", "wings\noutstretched so that she floated lightly in the air beside her rescuer.\n\"If you had been an instant later, the dog would have killed me.\"\n\n\"Very true,\" returned the eagle. \"I saw your danger while I was in the\nair, and determined to act quickly, although I might myself have been\nshot by the man had his gun been loaded. But I have noticed that a bold\naction is often successful because it causes surprise, and the foe does\nnot know what to do.\"\n\n\"I'm 'shamed of those people,\" said Chub", "by the same shot. You may\nremember, my dears, that they were at your reception yesterday, and as\ngay and happy as any of the company present. In their nest are now five\nlittle children, too young and weak to fly, and there is no one to feed\nthem or look after them.\"\n\n\"Oh, that is dreadful!\" exclaimed Twinkle. \"Can't Chubbins and I do\nsomething for the little goldfinches?\"\n\n\"Why, that is why I was so anxious to find you,\" answered Policeman\nBluej", "\n\"Folks will be worried about us, Twink,\" said Chubbins.\n\n\"'Course they will,\" Twinkle replied. \"They'll wonder what has become\nof us, and try to find us.\"\n\n\"But they won't look in the tree-tops.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Nor think to ask the birds where we are.\"\n\n\"Why should they?\" enquired Twinkle. \"They can't talk to the birds,\nChub.\"\n\n\"Why not? We talk to them, don't we", "was loose. In a minute Chubbins began clawing at\nit with his little feet, and Twinkle helped him; so that gradually they\nmanaged to pull the cloth away far enough for one of them to crawl\nthrough the opening. Then the other followed, and because the big\nbasket was not quite full there was exactly room for them to stand\nunderneath the cloth and walk around on top of a row of cookies that\nlay next to a row of sandwiches.\n\nThe cookies seemed enormous. One was lying flat, and Chubbins declared\nit seemed as big around", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "creature, in a voice of fury very different from the sweet tones it\nhad at first used; and perhaps it was this fact that induced the\nchildren to believe the warning was from a friend, and they would do\nwell to heed it.\n\n\"Whether you are the tuxix or not,\" said Twinkle, \"I never will touch\nyou. You may be sure of that.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" declared Chubbins, stoutly, as he came closer to the girl and\ngrasped her hand in his own.\n\nAt this the horrid", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "would have no fears at all did not the men with\nguns, who are called hunters, come here now and then to murder us. They\nare terribly wild and ferocious creatures, who have no hearts at all.\"\n\n\"Oh, they _must_ have hearts,\" said Twinkle, \"else they couldn't live.\nFor one's heart has to beat to keep a person alive, you know.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it's their gizzards that beat,\" replied the oriole,\nreflectively, \"for they are certainly heartless and very wicked.", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking" ], [ "tearing her four\nbabies limb from limb!\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" whispered Twinkle, her little heart beating as\nviolently as if the dread destroyers had always been her mortal\nenemies.\n\n\"Just below us. Isn't it dreadful? We had such a nice night together,\nand Mrs. 'Possum was so sweet and loving in caring for her little ones\nand feeding them! And, just as we were nearly home again, the dogs\nsprang upon my friend and the men shot her dead. We had not even\nsus", "But, even as she spoke, the words sounded in her own ears strange and\nunnatural, and more like the chirping of a bird than the language of\nmen. The hunter either did not hear her or he did not understand her,\nand the dog snarled and bared its wicked teeth as it sprang greedily\nupon the child-lark.\n\nTwinkle was too terrified to move. She glared upon the approaching\nmonster helplessly, and it had almost reached her when a black object\nfell from the skies with the swiftness of a lightning", "pected, until then, that our foes were in the forest.\"\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and\nlooked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs\nwere growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with\ntheir cruel jaws.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. \"He's aiming at\nyou--look out!\"\n\nThey ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire", "would have no fears at all did not the men with\nguns, who are called hunters, come here now and then to murder us. They\nare terribly wild and ferocious creatures, who have no hearts at all.\"\n\n\"Oh, they _must_ have hearts,\" said Twinkle, \"else they couldn't live.\nFor one's heart has to beat to keep a person alive, you know.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it's their gizzards that beat,\" replied the oriole,\nreflectively, \"for they are certainly heartless and very wicked.", "trees the spaces were clearly visible.\n\nThe children, rudely awakened by the riot of noise in their ears, could\ndistinguish the barking of dogs, the shouts of men calling to the\nbrutes, and the scream of an animal in deep distress. Immediately\nafter, there was a whirl overhead and the gray owl settled on the limb\nbeside their nest.\n\n\"They've got her!\" she exclaimed, in a trembling, terrified voice. \"The\nmen have shot Mrs. 'Possum dead, and the dogs are now", "wings\noutstretched so that she floated lightly in the air beside her rescuer.\n\"If you had been an instant later, the dog would have killed me.\"\n\n\"Very true,\" returned the eagle. \"I saw your danger while I was in the\nair, and determined to act quickly, although I might myself have been\nshot by the man had his gun been loaded. But I have noticed that a bold\naction is often successful because it causes surprise, and the foe does\nnot know what to do.\"\n\n\"I'm 'shamed of those people,\" said Chub", ". Slowly she sank to the ground and fell upon the\nearth with a dull sound that was dreadful to hear.\n\nInstantly Twinkle darted from the nest and swooped downward, alighting\non the ground beside the owl's quivering body. A big dog came bounding\ntoward her. The man was reloading his gun, a few paces away.\n\n\"Call off your dog!\" shouted Twinkle, wildly excited. \"How dare you\nshoot the poor, harmless birds? Call off your dog, I say!\"\n\n", "air and Twinkle darted after him, while\nChubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time\nto escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.\n\nThe inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what\nwas happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his\nbreast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his\nagonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An\ninstant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and", "streak and struck\nthe dog's back, tearing the flesh with its powerful talons and driving\na stout, merciless beak straight through the skull of the savage brute.\n\nThe dog, already dead, straightened out and twitched convulsively. The\nman shouted angrily and sprang upon the huge bird that had slain his\npet, at the same time swinging his gun like a club.\n\n\"Quick!\" said the eagle to Twinkle, \"mount with me as swiftly as you\ncan.\"\n\nWith the words he rose into the", "jay, in a grave voice. \"The hunters did even more\ndamage than usual. They killed Jolly Joe, the brown bear, and Sam Fox,\nand Mrs. 'Possum and her babies, and Wisk the squirrel; so that the\nanimals are all in mourning for their friends. But our birds suffered\ngreatly, also. Mrs. Hootaway is dead, and three pigeons belonging to a\nhighly respected family; but the saddest of all is the murder of Mr.\nand Mrs. Goldfinch, both of whom were killed", "\nbeneath them.\n\n\"Oh-h-h!\" wailed Mrs. Hootaway, fluttering violently beside them. \"They\nstruck me that time--the bullet is in my heart. Good-bye, my dears.\nRemember that--all--is love; all is--love!\"\n\nHer voice died away to a whisper, and she toppled from the limb.\nTwinkle and Chubbins tried to save their dying friend from falling, but\nthe gray owl was so much bigger than they that they could not support\nthe weight of her body", "nose out of the hole. 'But you've got to catch me before you can kill\nme. Run home, my pretty birds. You're no match for a weasel!'\n\n\"Then he was gone from sight, and we knew he was hidden safely in the\nstump, where we could not follow him, for the weasel's body is slim and\nslender. But I have not lived in the forest all my life without\nlearning something, and I whispered a plan to Judge Bullfinch that met\nwith his approval. He sent messengers at once for the iv", "no longer hear the hoot\nof the savage young ones.\n\nFor a time the eagle flew in silence. Then he said:\n\n\"You must forgive my family for not being more hospitable. You must\nknow that they live a very lonely life, and have no society because\nevery living thing fears them. But I go abroad more and see more of the\nworld, so I know very well how guests ought to be treated.\"\n\n\"You have been very kind to us, Mr. Eagle,\" replied the girl-lark, \"and\nyou saved my life when the dog would", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "him. Susie\nrecovered somewhat from the blow she had received, and when she saw her\neggs and her poor dead husband being taken away, she managed to flutter\nalong after the man and followed him until he came to the edge of the\nforest. There he had a horse tied to a tree, and he mounted upon the\nbeast's back and rode away through the open country. Susie followed\nhim, just far enough away to keep the man in sight, without being\nnoticed herself.\n\n\"By and bye he came to a big house, which he entered", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "ory-billed\nwoodpeckers, and soon four of those big birds appeared and agreed to\nhelp us. They began tearing away at the stump with their strong beaks,\nand the splinters flew in every direction. It was not yet dark when the\ncunning weasel was dragged from his hole and was at the mercy of the\nbirds he had so cruelly offended. We fell upon him in a flash, and he\nwas dead almost instantly.\"\n\n\"What became of the shrike?\" asked Twinkle.\n\n\"He left the forest the next day,\" answered", "dead and each one impaled\nupon the thorn of a bush that grew close to the ground. Then I decided\nit was indeed the shrike, for he has a habit of doing just this thing;\nkilling more than he can eat and sticking the rest of his murdered\nvictims on thorns until he finds time to come back and devour them.\n\n\"I was also angry, by that time; so I flew to the shrike's nest and\nfound him all scratched and torn and his feathers plucked in many\nplaces.\n\n\"'What", "as man; therefore he is the\ngreatest destroyer in the world. But he is not alone in his murderous,\ndespoiling instinct. While you rail at man, my friends, do not forget\nthat birds are themselves the greatest enemies of birds.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" cried the magpie, indignantly.\n\n\"Perhaps the less you say about this matter the better,\" declared the\nbluejay, swinging his club in a suggestive manner, and looking sharply\nat the magpie.\n\n\"It's a slander,\" said the blackbird.", "where I tore the fur from his head and back with my sharp beak.'\n\n\"'So you did,' answered the weasel; 'and in return I killed the little\ntomtits.'\n\n\"'Did you stick them on the thorns?' asked Judge Bullfinch.\n\n\"'Yes,' said the weasel. 'I hoped you would accuse the shrike of the\nmurder, and kill him to satisfy my vengeance.'\n\n\"'We nearly fell into the trap,' returned the judge; 'but Will Sparrow\nsaw your" ], [ "enquired Twinkle, curiously.\n\n\"Love. It is the moral law that is above all laws made by living\ncreatures. The whole forest is ruled by love more than it is by fear.\nYou may think this is strange when you remember that some animals eat\nbirds, and some birds eat animals, and the dreadful creeping things eat\nus both; but nevertheless we are so close to Nature here that love and\ntenderness for our kind influences us even more than it does mankind--\nthe careless and unthinking race from which you came. The residents of\n", "It is the nature of owls to be kind and sympathetic. Those\nwho do not know us very well say harsh things about us, because we fly\nin the night, when most other birds are asleep, and sleep in the\ndaytime when most other birds are awake.\"\n\n\"Why do you do that?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Because the strong light hurts our eyes. But, although we are abroad\nin the night, we seek only our natural prey, and obey the Great Law of\nthe forest more than some others do.\"\n\n\"What is the Great Law?\"", "There is said to be a\nway to break every enchantment, if one knows what it is. The trouble in\nthese cases is to discover what the charm may be that will restore you\nto your natural shapes. But just now you must make up your minds to\nlive in our forest for a time, and to be as happy as you can under the\ncircumstances.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll try,\" said Chubbins, with a sigh.\n\n\"That's right,\" exclaimed Policeman Bluejay, nodding his crest in\napproval.", "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "caught in the forest, and she bewitched us.\"\n\n\"That is too bad,\" said their new acquaintance. \"She is a very wicked\nold creature, for a fact, and loves to get folks into trouble. Are you\ngoing to live here?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the girl. \"Policeman Bluejay gave us this nest.\"\n\n\"Then it's all right; for Policeman Bluejay rules the feathered tribes\nof this forest about as he likes. Have you seen him in full uniform\nyet?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied", "because\nhe was seriously thinking; \"I have a plan for subduing these rebels,\nand it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long\njourney to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but\nmeet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be\nsure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we\nmust insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to\nthese rooks.\"\n\nWith these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly", "he makes them all\nafraid to disobey the laws. He's a wonderful fellow, that Policeman\nBluejay, and even we squirrels are glad he is in the forest.\"\n\n\"Why?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Well, we also fear some of the birds,\" answered Wisk. \"The lady in the\nthird flat, for instance, Mrs. Hootaway, is said to like a squirrel for\na midnight meal now and then, when mice and beetles are scarce. It is\nalmost her hour for w", "\nby being naughty.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman. \"They know very well that I will\nnot stand any nonsense, and will always insist that the laws be\nobeyed.\"\n\nThey were now approaching that part of the forest where they lived, and\nas the policeman concluded his speech they were surprised to hear a\ngreat flutter of wings among the trees, and presently a flock of big\nblack rooks flew toward them.\n\nAt the head of the band was a saucy-looking fellow who wore upon his\nhead a policeman's", "policeman, reluctantly. \"But I sometimes think\nthe goody-goody places would get awful tiresome to live in, after a\ntime. Here in our part of the forest there is a little excitement, for\nthe biggest birds only obey our laws through fear of punishment, and I\nunderstand it is just the same in the world of men. But in the Birds'\nParadise there lives but one race, every member of which is quite\nparticular not to annoy any of his fellows in any way. That is why they\nwill admit no disturbing element into their country.", "\"Why?\" asked Twinkle, who had been rather awed by the King's splendor.\n\n\"Because it would take all my time to keep 'em smooth,\" answered the\nboy. \"The poor King can't do much more than admire himself, so he don't\nget time to have fun.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XIV] _A Real Fairyland_\n\nAs they left the royal arbor of white flowers the Messenger turned to\nthe left and guided his guests through several bright and charming\navenues to a grove of trees that had bright blue bark", "bins, indignantly. \"What right\nhad they to come to the forest and kill the pretty owl, and the dear\nlittle squirrel, and the poor mama 'possum and her babies?\"\n\n\"They had the right of power,\" said the eagle, calmly. \"It would be a\nbeautiful world were there no destroyers of life in it; but the earth\nand air and water would then soon become so crowded that there would\nnot be room for them all to exist. Don't blame the men.\"\n\n\"But they are cruel,\" said", "lightly as bubbles, and soon a\njoyous thrill took possession of them and they began to understand why\nit is that the free, wild birds are always so happy in their native\nstate.\n\nThe forest was everywhere under them, for it was of vast extent.\nPresently the bluejay swooped downward and alighted near the top of a\ntall maple tree that had many thick branches.\n\nIn a second Twinkle and Chubbins were beside him, their little hearts\nbeating fast in their glossy bosoms from the excitement of their rapid\nfl", "me,\" said the guide.\n\nHe led them through lovely vistas of wonderful trees, down beautiful\nwinding avenues that excited their admiration, and past clusters of\nflowering plants with leaves as big as umbrellas and as bright as a\npainter's palette. The Paradise seemed to have been laid out according\nto one exquisite, symmetrical plan, and although the avenues or paths\nbetween the trees and plants led in every direction, the ground beneath\nthem was everywhere thickly covered with a carpet of magnificent\nflowers or richly t", "Beauty Dance.\"\n\n\"I should like to see that glade,\" said Twinkle, who was determined to\nlet nothing escape her that she could possibly see.\n\n\"You shall,\" answered Ephel, promptly. \"We will fly there at once.\"\n\nSo he led the way and presently they entered a thicker grove of trees\nthan any they had before noticed. The trunks were so close together\nthat the birds could only pass between then in single file, but as they\nproceeded in this fashion it was not long before they came to a\ncircular space which the", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "of them and\npolite attention, and the Royal Messenger said he was pleased that the\nKing had permitted him to serve them. They also thanked the green-robed\nGuardian of the Entrance, and then, accompanied by Policeman Bluejay,\nthey quitted the golden tree and began their journey back to the\nforest.\n\nIt was no trouble at all to return. The wind caught their wings and\nblew against them strongly, so that they had but to sail before the\nbreeze and speed along until they were deep in the forest again. Then\nthe", ",\" he said to the rook, \"and\nlet them decide between us.\"\n\n\"That won't do any good,\" was the reply. \"We rooks have decided the\nmatter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,\nor all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them\nto serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?\"\n\n\"I'll think it over,\" said Policeman Bluejay.\n\n\"Oho! oho! He's", "\nLike all blustering, evil-disposed people, when they found themselves\nconquered they whined and humbled themselves before the victors and\ndeclared they would never again rebel against Policeman Bluejay, the\nregularly appointed guardian of the Law of the Forest. And I am told\nthat after this day the rooks, who are not rightly forest birds, betook\nthemselves to the nearest villages and farm houses, and contented\nthemselves with plaguing mankind, who could not revenge themselves as\neasily as the birds did", "? And they talk to us. At least, the\np'liceman and the eagle did.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" answered Twinkle, \"and I don't understand it a bit. I\nmust ask Mr. Bluejay to 'splain it to us.\"\n\n\"What's the use of a p'liceman in the forest?\" asked Chubbins, after a\nmoment's thought.\n\n\"I suppose,\" she replied, \"that he has to keep the birds from being\nnaughty. Some birds are just awful mischiefs, Ch", "the room\nmany birds sitting silently upon limbs cut from trees, and among them\nher own husband, as proud and beautiful as he had ever been before the\ncruel man had killed him! She quickly flew to the limb and perched\nbeside her loved one.\n\n\"'Oh, my darling!' she cried, 'how glad I am to have found you again,\nand to see you alive and well when I had mourned you as dead. Come with\nme at once, and we will return to our old home in the forest.'\n\n\"But the bird remained motionless" ], [ "dignified in\ndemeanor. Indeed, his expression was rather merry and roguish, and as\nhe saw the strangers he gave a short, sharp whistle of surprise.\n\n\"My dear Ephel,\" said the Guardian, \"oblige me by escorting these\nchild-larks to the presence of his Majesty the King.\"\n\n\"I am delighted to obey your request,\" answered Ephel the Messenger,\nbrightly. Then, turning to Twinkle and Chubbins, he added: \"I trust you\nwill find my society agreeable during our", "describe.\n\nBoth Twinkle and Chubbins gasped with amazement and delight as, at the\ncommand of Ephel, they alighted upon a lowly branch of the golden bush\nand bowed their heads before the ruler of the birds' fairyland.\n\n\"Ah, whom have we here?\" asked the King, in a soft voice, as he\nstrutted and proudly turned himself upon his perch.\n\n\"Strangers, your Majesty,\" answered the Messenger. \"They are sent to\nyou by the Guardian of the Entrance because", "intently to her words.\n\nWhen she had finished the King exclaimed:\n\n\"Indeed, my dear child-larks, you are worthy to be our guests in\nfairyland. So it will please me if you will be as happy and comfortable\nas possible, and enjoy your stay with us as much as you can. My people\nwill delight to honor and amuse you, and Ephel shall continue to guide\nyou wherever you go.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" returned Twinkle, earnestly; and Chubbins added, in his\nblunt way: \"Much oblig", "now?\" asked the King, turning his eyes upon\nthe lark-children.\n\n\"It must be the prettiest place in all the world!\" cried Twinkle, with\nreal enthusiasm.\n\nHis Majesty seemed much pleased. \"I am very sorry you cannot live here\nalways,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm not,\" declared Chubbins. \"It's too pretty. I'd get tired of it\nsoon.\"\n\n\"He means,\" said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark\nwould displease the kindly King", "\n\n\"True,\" he remarked; \"it was very careless of me to forget that you\nhave no bills. How are you accustomed to eat?\"\n\n\"Why, with spoons, and knives and forks,\" said the girl.\n\n\"You have but to ask for what you need,\" declared the royal Messenger.\n\nTwinkle hesitated, scarcely knowing what to say. At last she spoke\nboldly: \"I wish Chub and I had spoons.\"\n\nHardly had the words left her lips when two tiny golden spoons appeared\nin the flower-cup", "flight to the royal monarch\nof Paradise.\"\n\nTwinkle was too much embarrassed by this politeness to answer at once,\nbut Chubbins said \"Sure thing!\" in a matter-of-fact voice, and the\nMessenger nodded gaily and continued:\n\n\"Then we will go, if it pleases you.\"\n\nHe spread his wings in a flash of color and sped away into the\nParadise, and the children eagerly followed him.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XIII] _The King Bird_\n\nMore and more magnificence was unfold", "King said they would now indulge\nin some refreshment.\n\nInstantly a row of bell-shaped blossoms appeared upon the golden bush,\none for each bird present, and all were filled with a delicious ice\nthat was as cold and refreshing as if it had just been taken from a\nfreezer. Twinkle and Chubbins asked for spoons, and received them\nquickly; but the others all ate the ices with their bills.\n\nThe King seemed to enjoy his as much as any one, and Twinkle noticed\nthat as fast as a blossom was empt", "ed.\"\n\n\"But, before you go,\" continued his Majesty, \"tell me what you think of\nmy royal person. Am I not beautiful?\"\n\n\"You are, indeed,\" replied Twinkle; \"only--\"\n\n\"Only what?\" asked the King, as she hesitated.\n\n\"Only I'm sorry you are so vain, and strut around so, and want everyone\nto see how beautiful you are.\"\n\n\"Why should I not? Is not vanity one of the great virtues?\" asked the\nKing, in a surprised voice.\n\n\"My m", "it is the one antidote in all the world\nfor the charm the tuxix worked upon you.\"\n\n\"What _is_ a tingle-berry?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously, for this\ninformation interested her as much as it did Chubbins.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the King, \"for it is a common forest berry, and\nnever grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble\nin finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside\nworld.\"\n\nThe children were both eager to go at", "Y PALACE\nTHE BATTLE\n\"IT'S ALMOST DARK. LET'S GO HOME\"\n\n\n[CHAPTER I] _Little Ones in Trouble_\n\n\"SEEMS to me, Chub,\" said Twinkle, \"that we're lost.\"\n\n\"Seems to me, Twink,\" said Chubbins, \"that it isn't _we_ that's lost.\nIt's the path.\"\n\n\"It was here a minute ago,\" declared Twinkle.\n\n\"But it isn't", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "is no one to chase them or to\nstick pins through them when they are caught.\"\n\nJust then a chime of bells tinkled far away in the distance, and the\nRoyal Messenger listened intently and then said:\n\n\"It is my summons to his Majesty the King. We must return at once to\nthe palace.\"\n\nSo they flew into the air again and proceeded to cross the lovely\ngardens and pass through the avenues of jewelled trees and the fragrant\norchards and groves until they came at last to the royal b", "\"Why?\" asked Twinkle, who had been rather awed by the King's splendor.\n\n\"Because it would take all my time to keep 'em smooth,\" answered the\nboy. \"The poor King can't do much more than admire himself, so he don't\nget time to have fun.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XIV] _A Real Fairyland_\n\nAs they left the royal arbor of white flowers the Messenger turned to\nthe left and guided his guests through several bright and charming\navenues to a grove of trees that had bright blue bark", "and Chubbins twisted their heads around on their little\nfeathered necks and saw perched beside them a big bird of a most\nbeautiful blue color. At first they were a bit frightened, for the\nnewcomer seemed of giant size beside their little lark bodies, and he\nwas, moreover, quite fierce in appearance, having a crest of feathers\nthat came to a point above his head, and a strong beak and sharp\ntalons. But Twinkle looked full into the shrewd, bright eye, and found\nit good humored and twinkling", "who I am sure will\narrange for you to enter that wonderful country.\"\n\n\"It is very kind of you to remember our wish,\" said Twinkle. \"We are\nall ready.\"\n\nSo they flew above the tree-tops and began their journey toward the\ncenter of the forest.\n\n\"Where's your p'liceman's hat and club?\" Chubbins asked the bluejay.\n\n\"Why, I left them at home,\" was the reply. \"I'm not on official duty\ntoday, you know, and the Guardian does not like", "\nevery side.\n\n\"Of all the fairylands I've ever heard of or read about,\" said Twinkle,\n\"this certainly is the best.\"\n\n\"It's just a peach of a fairyland,\" commented Chubbins, approvingly.\n\n\"Here is the nectar tree,\" presently remarked the royal Messenger, and\nhe paused to allow them to observe it.\n\nThe tree was all of silver--silver trunk and branches and leaves--and\nfrom the end of each leaf or branch dripped sparkling drops of a\npink", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", ", \"unless his feathers are his uniform.\"\n\n\"Well, he's too proud of his office to be satisfied with feathers, I\ncan tell you. When some folks get a little authority they want all the\nworld to know about it, and a bold uniform covers many a faint heart.\nBut as I'm your nearest neighbor I'll introduce myself. My name's\nWisk.\"\n\n\"My name is Twinkle.\"\n\n\"And mine's Chubbins.\"\n\n\"Pleased to make your acquaintance,\" said the squirrel, nod", "suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghosts\nof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.\n\nBut either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite to\nbother the little child-larks.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XII] _The Guardian_\n\nThe next morning ushered in a glorious day, sunny and bright. The sky\nwas a clear blue, and only a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the\ntrees. Even before Twinkle and Chubbins were awake the birds were\ncall" ], [ "dignified in\ndemeanor. Indeed, his expression was rather merry and roguish, and as\nhe saw the strangers he gave a short, sharp whistle of surprise.\n\n\"My dear Ephel,\" said the Guardian, \"oblige me by escorting these\nchild-larks to the presence of his Majesty the King.\"\n\n\"I am delighted to obey your request,\" answered Ephel the Messenger,\nbrightly. Then, turning to Twinkle and Chubbins, he added: \"I trust you\nwill find my society agreeable during our", "describe.\n\nBoth Twinkle and Chubbins gasped with amazement and delight as, at the\ncommand of Ephel, they alighted upon a lowly branch of the golden bush\nand bowed their heads before the ruler of the birds' fairyland.\n\n\"Ah, whom have we here?\" asked the King, in a soft voice, as he\nstrutted and proudly turned himself upon his perch.\n\n\"Strangers, your Majesty,\" answered the Messenger. \"They are sent to\nyou by the Guardian of the Entrance because", "intently to her words.\n\nWhen she had finished the King exclaimed:\n\n\"Indeed, my dear child-larks, you are worthy to be our guests in\nfairyland. So it will please me if you will be as happy and comfortable\nas possible, and enjoy your stay with us as much as you can. My people\nwill delight to honor and amuse you, and Ephel shall continue to guide\nyou wherever you go.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" returned Twinkle, earnestly; and Chubbins added, in his\nblunt way: \"Much oblig", "now?\" asked the King, turning his eyes upon\nthe lark-children.\n\n\"It must be the prettiest place in all the world!\" cried Twinkle, with\nreal enthusiasm.\n\nHis Majesty seemed much pleased. \"I am very sorry you cannot live here\nalways,\" he said.\n\n\"I'm not,\" declared Chubbins. \"It's too pretty. I'd get tired of it\nsoon.\"\n\n\"He means,\" said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark\nwould displease the kindly King", "\"You see,\" the Queen remarked, \"my people are all as busy as bees\ngathering the honey from every flower.\"\n\n\"What do you do with it?\" asked Twinkle.\n\n\"Oh, we eat part of it, and store up the rest for a rainy day.\"\n\n\"Does it ever rain here?\" enquired Chubbins.\n\n\"Sometimes, at night, when we are all asleep, so as to refresh and\nmoisten the flowers, and help them to grow.\"\n\n\"But if it rains at night, there can't be", "\n\n\"True,\" he remarked; \"it was very careless of me to forget that you\nhave no bills. How are you accustomed to eat?\"\n\n\"Why, with spoons, and knives and forks,\" said the girl.\n\n\"You have but to ask for what you need,\" declared the royal Messenger.\n\nTwinkle hesitated, scarcely knowing what to say. At last she spoke\nboldly: \"I wish Chub and I had spoons.\"\n\nHardly had the words left her lips when two tiny golden spoons appeared\nin the flower-cup", "here now,\" replied the boy.\n\n\"That's true,\" said the girl.\n\nIt really _was_ queer. They had followed the straight path into the\ngreat forest, and had only stopped for a moment to sit down and rest,\nwith the basket between them and their backs to a big tree. Twinkle\nwinked just twice, because she usually took a nap in the afternoon, and\nChubbins merely closed his eyes a second to find out if he could see\nthat long streak of sunshine through his pink eyelids. Yet during this\nsecond, which", "happened while Twinkle was winking, the path had run away\nand left them without any guide or any notion which way they ought to\ngo.\n\nAnother strange thing was that when they jumped up to look around them\nthe nearest trees began sliding away, in a circle, leaving the little\ngirl and boy in a clear space. And the trees continued moving back and\nback, farther and farther, until all their trunks were jammed tight\ntogether, and not even a mouse could have crept between them. They made\na solid ring around Twinkle and Chubbins, who stood looking", "\nevery side.\n\n\"Of all the fairylands I've ever heard of or read about,\" said Twinkle,\n\"this certainly is the best.\"\n\n\"It's just a peach of a fairyland,\" commented Chubbins, approvingly.\n\n\"Here is the nectar tree,\" presently remarked the royal Messenger, and\nhe paused to allow them to observe it.\n\nThe tree was all of silver--silver trunk and branches and leaves--and\nfrom the end of each leaf or branch dripped sparkling drops of a\npink", "talked for an hour, and Wisk told them stories of the\nforest, and of the many queer animals and birds that lived there. It\nwas all very interesting to the children, and they listened eagerly\nuntil they heard a rushing sound in the air that sent Wisk scurrying\nback into his hole.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IV] _An Afternoon Reception_\n\nTwinkle and Chubbins stretched their little necks to see what was\ncoming, and a moment later beheld one of the most gorgeous sights the\nforest affords--a procession", "their breaths, but before this\nhappened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at\nthe sight that met their eyes.\n\nBefore them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but\nhaving trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite\nmetallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers,\nexceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked\nupon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then\nsang a song so sweet", "they?\" enquired Chubbins.\n\n\"Come with me, and you shall see for yourselves.\"\n\nThey flew away from the grove of the Gleaming Glade and Ephel led them\nby pleasant routes into a large garden with many pretty flowers in it.\nMostly it was filled with hollyhocks--yellow, white, scarlet and\npurple.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XVII] _The Queen Bee_\n\nAs they approached they heard a low, humming sound, which grew louder\nas they advanced and aroused their curiosity.", "Y PALACE\nTHE BATTLE\n\"IT'S ALMOST DARK. LET'S GO HOME\"\n\n\n[CHAPTER I] _Little Ones in Trouble_\n\n\"SEEMS to me, Chub,\" said Twinkle, \"that we're lost.\"\n\n\"Seems to me, Twink,\" said Chubbins, \"that it isn't _we_ that's lost.\nIt's the path.\"\n\n\"It was here a minute ago,\" declared Twinkle.\n\n\"But it isn't", "it is the one antidote in all the world\nfor the charm the tuxix worked upon you.\"\n\n\"What _is_ a tingle-berry?\" asked Twinkle, anxiously, for this\ninformation interested her as much as it did Chubbins.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said the King, \"for it is a common forest berry, and\nnever grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble\nin finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside\nworld.\"\n\nThe children were both eager to go at", "thing bristled all its sharp prickers in anger, and\nsaid:\n\n\"Then, if I cannot conquer you in one way, I will in another. Go, both\nof you, and join the bird that warned you, and live in the air and the\ntrees until you repent your stubbornness and promise to become my\nslaves. The tuxix has spoken, and her magical powers are at work. Go!\"\n\nIn an instant Twinkle saw Chubbins shoot through the air and disappear\namong the leaves of one of the tall trees. As", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "in its\nmouth, but otherwise they were quite easy to understand.\n\n\"Permit me to introduce her Majesty the Queen Bee,\" said their guide.\n\"These, your highness, are some little child-larks who are guests of\nour King. I have brought them to visit you.\"\n\n\"They are very welcome,\" returned the Queen Bee. \"Are you fond of\nhoney?\" she asked, turning to the children.\n\n\"Sometimes,\" replied Chubbins; \"but we've just eaten, and we're chock\nfull now.\"\n\n", "who I am sure will\narrange for you to enter that wonderful country.\"\n\n\"It is very kind of you to remember our wish,\" said Twinkle. \"We are\nall ready.\"\n\nSo they flew above the tree-tops and began their journey toward the\ncenter of the forest.\n\n\"Where's your p'liceman's hat and club?\" Chubbins asked the bluejay.\n\n\"Why, I left them at home,\" was the reply. \"I'm not on official duty\ntoday, you know, and the Guardian does not like", "you the most happiness. Come with me,\nplease.\"\n\nThey flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open\ncountry to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.\n\n\"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got\n'chanted!\" cried Twinkle.\n\n\"So it is,\" said Chubbins. \"I believe we could find our way home from\nhere, Twink.\"\n\n\"But we can't go home like we are,\" replied the girl-lark. \"What would\nour folks say,", "flight to the royal monarch\nof Paradise.\"\n\nTwinkle was too much embarrassed by this politeness to answer at once,\nbut Chubbins said \"Sure thing!\" in a matter-of-fact voice, and the\nMessenger nodded gaily and continued:\n\n\"Then we will go, if it pleases you.\"\n\nHe spread his wings in a flash of color and sped away into the\nParadise, and the children eagerly followed him.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XIII] _The King Bird_\n\nMore and more magnificence was unfold" ], [ "\"we must each and every one guard\nthese little strangers carefully, and see that they come to no harm in\nour forest. You must all pledge yourselves to befriend them on all\noccasions, and if any one dares to break his promise he must fight with\nme to the death--and you know very well what that means.\"\n\n\"We do,\" said a magpie, with a shrill laugh. \"You'll treat us as you\ndid Jim Crow. Eh?\"\n\nThe policeman did not notice this remark, but the other birds all\nlooked grave", "that it was Policeman Bluejay. He wore his official helmet\nand carried his club, and as soon as he came beside them he said:\n\n\"Thank goodness I've found you at last. I've been hunting for you an\nhour, and began to fear you had met with some misfortune.\"\n\n\"We've been with the eagle,\" said the girl. \"He saved our lives and\ncarried us away from where the dreadful men were.\"\n\n\"We have had sad doings in the forest today--very sad, indeed,\"\ndeclared the blue", ", you know--and it's my duty to look after everyone\nwho is in trouble.\"\n\n\"We're in trouble, all right,\" said Chubbins, sorrowfully.\n\n\"Well, it might have been worse,\" remarked Policeman Bluejay, making a\nchuckling sound in his throat that Twinkle thought was meant for a\nlaugh. \"If you had ever touched the old tuxix she would have\ntransformed you into toads or lizards. That is an old trick of hers, to\nget children into her power and then change them", "perhaps you are right, not\nhaving good bird sense because the brains in your heads are still human\nbrains. Let me see: what can I do to help you?\"\n\nThe children did not speak, but watched him anxiously.\n\n\"Where did you leave your basket?\" he finally asked.\n\n\"In the place where the old witch 'chanted us.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the officer of the forest, \"I must try to get it for you.\"\n\n\"It is too big and heavy for a bird to carry,\" suggested Twinkle.\n\n\"Sure enough. Of", "for the innocent victims I befriended them,\nand as this basket belongs to them I have asked you to fetch it to\ntheir nest.\"\n\n\"I am glad to be of service,\" replied the eagle. \"If ever you need me,\nand I am anywhere around,\" he continued, addressing the larks, \"just\ncall me, and I will come at once.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Twinkle, gratefully.\n\n\"We're much obliged,\" added Chubbins.\n\nThen the eagle flew away, and when he was gone Polic", "He spoke in such a kindly and confident voice that both Twinkle and\nChubbins gained courage; and when the policeman added: \"Come on!\" and\nflew straight as an arrow into the air above the tree-tops, the two\nlittle skylarks with their girl and boy heads followed swiftly after\nhim, and had no trouble in going just as fast as their conductor.\n\nIt was quite a pleasant and interesting experience, to dart through the\nair and be in no danger of falling. When they rested on their\noutstretched wings they floated as", "little ones.\"\n\n\"Chubbins and I have 'dopted the goldfinches,\" said Twinkle, \"so we will\nlook after them now. But it was very nice of you, Mrs. Redbreast, to\ntake take care of them until we arrived.\"\n\n\"Well, I like to be neighborly,\" returned the pretty bird; \"and as long\nas cruel men enter our forest no mother can tell how soon her own\nlittle ones will be orphaned and left helpless.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the policeman, nodding gravely.\n", "for each of us!\" screamed the other eaglet, rushing at Chubbins.\n\n\"Peace--be quiet!\" said the eagle, sternly. \"Cannot you tell friends\nfrom food, you foolish youngsters? These are two little friends of mine\nwhom I have invited to visit us; so you must treat them in a civil\nmanner.\"\n\n\"Why not eat them?\" asked one of the eaglets, looking at the\nchild-larks with hungry eyes.\n\n\"Because I forbid you. They are my guests, and must be protected and\nwell", "dignified in\ndemeanor. Indeed, his expression was rather merry and roguish, and as\nhe saw the strangers he gave a short, sharp whistle of surprise.\n\n\"My dear Ephel,\" said the Guardian, \"oblige me by escorting these\nchild-larks to the presence of his Majesty the King.\"\n\n\"I am delighted to obey your request,\" answered Ephel the Messenger,\nbrightly. Then, turning to Twinkle and Chubbins, he added: \"I trust you\nwill find my society agreeable during our", "to find us with birds' bodies?\"\n\n\"They'd yell and run,\" declared the boy.\n\n\"Then,\" said she, \"we must find the tingle-berries.\"\n\nThe bluejay flew with them to some bushes which he said were the kind\nthe tingle-berries grew upon, but they were all bare and not a single\nberry could be found.\n\n\"There must be more not far away,\" said the policeman, encouragingly.\n\"Let us look about us.\"\n\nThey found several clumps of the bushes, to be sure; but", "that, if you wish to visit the Paradise,\"\nresponded the bluejay; \"for the Guardian of the Entrance is a special\nfriend of mine, and will do whatever I ask him to.\"\n\n\"Will he, really?\" asked the girl, in delight.\n\n\"To be sure. Some day I will take you over there, and then you will see\nwhat powerful friends Policeman Bluejay has.\"\n\n\"I'd like that,\" declared Twinkle.\n\nTheir swift flight enabled them to cover the remaining distance very\nrapidly, and soon", "party here today,\" he continued,\n\"and they behaved pretty well while the policeman was around. But some\nof them might not be so friendly if you met them alone.\"\n\n\"Would any bird hurt us?\" asked the girl, in surprise.\n\n\"Why, I've seen a magpie meet a thrush, and fly away alone,\" replied\nWisk. \"And the wrens and chickadees avoid the cuckoo as much as\npossible, because they are fond of being alive. But the policeman keeps\nthe big birds all in order when he is around, and", "s from grub.\"\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_\n\nThe eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, while\nthe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that part\nof the great forest where they lived.\n\n\"Are you sure the men have gone?\" asked Chubbins.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the policeman; \"they left the forest as soon as they had\nshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carry\nhim on a pole resting", "and\nChubbins was not long in following her example.\n\n\n\n[CHAPTER IX] _The Destroyers_\n\nA loud shouting and a bang that echoed like a clap of thunder through\nthe forest awoke the bird-children from their dreams.\n\nOpening their eyes with a start they saw that the gray dawn was\nbreaking and a sort of morning twilight made all objects in the forest\ndistinct, yet not so brilliant as the approaching daylight would.\nShadows still lay among the bushes and the thickest branches; but\nbetween the", "by the same shot. You may\nremember, my dears, that they were at your reception yesterday, and as\ngay and happy as any of the company present. In their nest are now five\nlittle children, too young and weak to fly, and there is no one to feed\nthem or look after them.\"\n\n\"Oh, that is dreadful!\" exclaimed Twinkle. \"Can't Chubbins and I do\nsomething for the little goldfinches?\"\n\n\"Why, that is why I was so anxious to find you,\" answered Policeman\nBluej", "branch of the tree twenty-two\nbluejays, all in a row. They were large, splendidly plumaged birds,\nwith keen eyes and sharp bills, and at their head was the children's\nold friend, the policeman.\n\n\"These are my cousins,\" he said to the child-larks, proudly, \"and I\nhave brought them from another forest, where they live, to assist me. I\nam not afraid of the foolish rooks now, and in a moment we shall fly\naway to give them battle.\"\n\nThe forest birds were all", "ing merrily to one another throughout the forest, and the chipmonks\nchirped in their own brisk, businesslike way as they scuttled from tree\nto tree.\n\nWhile the child-larks were finishing their breakfast Policeman Bluejay\ncame to them, his feathers looking fresh and glossy and all his\ngorgeous colorings appearing especially beautiful in the sunshine.\n\n\"Today will be a rare day to visit the Paradise,\" he said; \"so I have\ncome to escort you to the Guardian of the Entrance,", "tearing her four\nbabies limb from limb!\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" whispered Twinkle, her little heart beating as\nviolently as if the dread destroyers had always been her mortal\nenemies.\n\n\"Just below us. Isn't it dreadful? We had such a nice night together,\nand Mrs. 'Possum was so sweet and loving in caring for her little ones\nand feeding them! And, just as we were nearly home again, the dogs\nsprang upon my friend and the men shot her dead. We had not even\nsus", "afraid! He's a coward!\" yelled the rooks; and one of\nthem added:\n\n\"Stand up and fight, if you dare!\"\n\n\"I'll fight your false policeman, or any one of you at a time,\" replied\nthe bluejay.\n\n\"No, you won't; you'll fight us all together, or not at all,\" they\nanswered.\n\nThe bluejay knew it would be foolish to do that, so he turned away and\nwhispered to the lark-children:\n\n\"Follow me", ".\nThe horrid tuxix had wriggled her evil body away, to soothe her\ndisappointment by some other wicked act; but the basket stood as the\nchildren had left it.\n\nThe eagle seized the handle in his stout beak and found it was no\ntrouble at all for him to fly into the air and carry the basket with\nhim.\n\n\"This way, please--this way!\" chirped the bluejay; and the eagle bore\nthe precious burden safely to the maple tree, and hung it upon a limb\njust above" ] ]

[ "WHAT DO THEY ENCOUNTER WHILE LOST IN THE FOREST?", "WHAT DOES THE TUXIX DO TO THE CHILDREN?", "WHAT ANIMAL DO THE CHILDREN GET TURNED INTO?", "WHAT IS THE GRAND LAW OF THE FOREST?", "WHO SAVES TWINKLE AND CHUBBINS FROM THE DOG?", "WHO WANTS TO MAKE THE OTHER BIRDS THEIR SLAVES?", "HOW DO THE CHILDREN UNDO THE SPELL CAST ON THEM?", "WHO IS THE FORCE OF ORDER AMONG THE BIRD WORLD IN THIS STORY?", "WHILE IN THE FOREST WHERE DO THE CHILDREN LIVE?", "What does a tuxix look like?", "What kind of bird bodies do the childen end up having?", "Who are Twinkle and Chubbins' new neighbors?", "Who retrieves the children's picnic basket?", "Who rescues the children from the hunting dog?", "What is the Grand Law of the forrest?", "What is the safe location Policeman Bluejay takes the children?", "What is the trouble in birdland that Poilcemand Bluejay must deal with?", "How can the children turn back to humans?", "Who almost gets stuck halfway when transforming back to a human?", "At the beginning of the story, where are Chubbins and Twinkle lost?", "What type of creature did Twinkle and Chubbins come across in the \"great forest'? ", "What does the evil spell put on children turn them into?", "What is retrieved so the children do not have to eat bugs, worms, and grub?", "Who rescues Twinkles and Chubbin from the hunters?", "Who kills the hunter's dog?", "What does Baum believe the \"grand law\" he maintains in the forest? ", "What king is introduced to Twinkle and Chubbins?", "What Queen does Twinkle and Chubbins meet?", "Who helps protect the children and escorting them to safe locations?" ]

[ [ "A TUXIX", "tuxix" ], [ "IT CASTS A SPELL ON THEM.", "Turns them into bird like beings with a spell" ], [ "BIRD-LIKE BEINGS WITH THE HEAD OF A HUMAN AND THE BODY OF A SKYLARK", "BIrds" ], [ "LOVE", "love" ], [ "THE EAGLE", "The eagle." ], [ "THE ROOKS", "rooks" ], [ "BY EATING TINGLE-BERRIES", "They eat tingle-berries." ], [ "POLICEMAN BLUEJAY", "policeman bluejay" ], [ "A MAPLE TREE", "An abandoned thrush's nest." ], [ "A spiny turtle", "A spiny turtle. " ], [ "A skylark", "skylarks" ], [ "A squirrle, an owl, and an o'possum", "A squirrel, an opossum and an owl" ], [ "The eagle", "eagle" ], [ "The eagle", "the eagle" ], [ "Love", "Love" ], [ "Paradise of Birds", "paradise of birds" ], [ "A rebellion among the rooks who are enslaving other birds", "Rooks making other birds into slaves" ], [ "By eating the tingle-berries", "By eating tingle-berries" ], [ "Chubbins", "Chubbins" ], [ "In the \"great forest\" ", "In the great forest" ], [ "a tuxix", "a tuxix" ], [ "bird-like creatures ", "little birds with human heads" ], [ "Their picnic basket", "Their picnic basket" ], [ "The eagle", "The eagle." ], [ "The eagle", "The eagle" ], [ "Love", "Love" ], [ "King Bird of Paradise. ", "king bird of paradise" ], [ "Queen Bee", "The Queen Bee" ], [ "Policeman Bluejay", "Policeman Bluejay" ] ]

[ [ "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "So did my Dad.\"\n\nAnd, as Virginia Adams was that trio's third part; and as Sarah and\nDoris had always known Nina Adams' strong will; and as,--Oh, hum! It\nwas a happy fascination until adult minds got hold of it!\n\n\nXXIX\n\n\nGadsby was walking back from a visit down in Branton Hills'\nmanufacturing district on a Saturday night. A busy day's traffic had\nhad its noisy run; and with not many folks in sight, His Honor got\nalong without having to stop to grasp", "back\nfrom many a visit to a _city_, and noting its ability in improving its\nliving conditions. So Gadsby thought of thus carrying an inkling to\nsuch capitalists as to how this stagnating town could claim a big spot\nupon our national map, which is now shown only in small, insignificant\nprint.\n\nAs a start, Branton Hills' \"Daily Post\" would carry a long story,\noutlining a list of factors for improving conditions. This it did; but\nit will always stay as a blot upon high minds and proud blood that", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without\na lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,\nmany who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash\nfor lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But\nall such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;\nthough an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk\nthat \"municipal graft\" was against him.\n\nNow Gadsby was vigorously against graft;", "own family.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n\nI think that now you should know this charming Gadsby family; so I will\nbring forth Lady Gadsby, about whom I told you at Gadsby's inauguration\nas Mayor; a loyal church woman with a vocal ability for choir work;\nand, with good capability on piano or organ, no woman could \"fill in\"\nin so many ways; and no woman was so willing, and quick to do so.\nGadsby had two sons; bright lads and popular with all. Julius was of\na stud", "good opportunity for oratory, as thousands,\nout for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with\nplaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's\ngood points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any\npoint at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how\nthis man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for\nimproving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown\nup from an", "a youthful motorist, waiting dutifully at\na curb, thought that a full family history of both host and visitor was\nup for an airing. But old folks always _will_ talk and it will not do a\nboy or girl any harm to wait; for, you know, that boy or girl will act\nin just that way, at a not too far-off day!\n\nBut, popular as this touring plan was, it had to stop; for school\nagain took all young folks from such out-door activity. Nobody was so\nsorry at this as Gadsby", "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "ious turn of mind, always poring through books of information;\ncaring not what kind of information it was, so long as it was\ninformation, and not fiction. Gadsby had thought of his growing up as a\nschool instructor, for no work is so worthy as imparting what you know\nto any who long to study. But William! Oh, hum!! Our Mayor and Lady\nGadsby didn't know just _what_ to do with him; for all his thoughts\nclung around girls and fashions in clothing. Probably our High School\ndidn't contain a girl", "part of town; for all Branton Hills was\nfond of its Mayor's \"baby girl.\"\n\nBut, during this rush and hubbub, how about Frank? Poor boy! Now,\nif you think that a young lad at such an instant is as calm as a\nmill-pond, you don't know romantic Youth, that's all. About forty of\nGadsby's old Organization boys, now manly young chaps, had bought him a\ncar, which Nancy was _not_ to know anything about until that throwing\nof old boots, and what is also", "city, naturally,\nbut full of that condition of Youth, known as \"growing pains.\" So its\nshabby old \"Town Hall\" sign was thrown away, and a black and gold onyx\nslab, with \"CITY HALL\" blazing forth in vivid colors, put up, amidst\nband music, flag waving, parading and oratory. In only a month from\nthat glorious day, Gadsby found folks \"primping up\"; girls putting on\nbright ribbons; boys finding that suits could stand a good ironing;\nand", "ruining\nour paving,\" Gadsby thought that was but small talk, for paving,\nanyway, can't last for long. But, that _is_ a glorious spot, way out\namongst our hills!\n\nGadsby took his party to a room in City Hall from which that burning\nfactory was in plain sight; and as Nancy and Kathlyn stood watching\nthat awful sight a big wall, crashing down, had a crowd rushing to that\nspot.\n\nA man's form was brought out to a patrol wagon; and a boy, rushing\np", "on any kind of an occasion for public good. A loyal\nchurchman, Gadsby was a man who, though admitting that an occasional\nfault in our daily acts is bound to occur, had taught his two boys and\na pair of girls that, though folks do slip from what Scriptural authors\ncall that \"straight and narrow path,\" it will not pay to risk your own\nSoul by slipping, just so that you can laugh at your ability in staying\nout of prison; for Gadsby, having grown up in Branton Hills, could\npoint to many such man or woman", "of joy\nin living. So, as Gadsby stood, on a chilly fall day, in front of that\nbig glass building which was built for a city florist, admiring a\ncharming display of blossoming plants, a small girl, still in Grammar\nSchool, said, shyly:--\n\n\"Hulloa.\"\n\n\"Hulloa, you. School out?\"\n\n\"On Saturdays, school is always out.\"\n\n\"That's so; it _is_ Saturday, isn't it? Going in?\"\n\n\"", "oil lamps, ash trays, and gaudy\nstrings of tiny crystal balls for adorning party gowns. And did Nancy\nwant to buy out this shop? And did Frank doubt his ability to do so?\nAnd did Kathlyn ask: \"How about it, Johnny?\" and did John Smith say:\n\"Nothing doing\"? It was just that. But it only shows that good old\nBranton Hills' inclination for aiding anything which looks worthy; and\nsuch a school I know you will admit, looks that way.\n\nTramping upstairs, still again, Gadsby", "\"That's our Bill, all right!\nAlways thinking of dolling up!\" and Lady Gadsby, rising quickly, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I must call up Nancy, Kathlyn and Sarah!\" and, in a trio of small\nbungalows, joy, _wild_ joy, found its way into girlish minds!\n\nAs Gadsby sat, going through this good word again and again, a mirthful\nchuckling had Lady Gadsby asking:--\n\n\"What's so funny about it?\"\n\n\"Nothing; only if", "Though this was a school graduation, Mayor Gadsby said it would do no\nharm to point out a plan for still adding to Branton Hills' public\nspirit:--\n\n\"This town is too plain; too dingy. Brick walls and asphalt paving\ndo not light up a town, but dim it. So I want to plant all kinds of\ngrowing things along many of our curbs. In our parks I want ponds\nwith gold fish, fancy ducks and big swans; row-boats, islands with\narbors, and lots of shr", "Gadsby, folding his \"Post\" into a narrow column, and handing it to that\nwaiting lady, said nothing. As that good woman saw that paragraph,\nGadsby saw first a gasp, following that, a grin, and finally:--\n\n\"_Why!_ Of all things! So _that's_ Nina--\"\n\nThat row of print said, simply:--\n\n\"By Pastor Brown, on Saturday night, in Pastor's study, Nina Adams and\nCouncilman Simpkins.\"\n\n\"Why!\" said Lady Gadsby", "not only in city affairs but\nin any kind of transaction; and that stab brought forth such a flow of\noratory from him, that as voting for Mayor was soon to occur, it, and a\nlong list of good works, soon had him up for that position. But Gadsby\ndidn't want such a nomination; still, thousands of townsfolks who had\nknown him from childhood, would not hark to anything but his candidacy;\nand, soon, on window cards, signs, and flags across Broadway, was\nhis photograph and \"GADSBY FOR MAY" ], [ "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "status that it had no form of transportation to\nsurrounding towns but by railroad, or \"old Dobbin.\" Now, any town thus\nisolating its inhabitants, will invariably find this big, busy world\npassing it by; glancing at it, curiously, as at an odd animal at a\ncircus; and, you will find, caring not a whit about its condition.\nNaturally, a town should grow. You can look upon it as a child; which,\nthrough natural conditions, should attain manhood; and add to its\nsurrounding th", "grown inhabitants of a city, do know what will add to its popularity;\nand having had a part in bringing about such conditions, it was but\nnatural to look back upon such, as any military man might at winning a\ndifficult fight.\n\nSo, finally our big day was at hand! That it might not cut into school\nhours, it was on a Saturday; and, by noon, about a thousand kids,\nsinging, shouting and waving flags, stood in formation at City Park,\nawaiting, with growing thrills, a signal which would start as big a\nturn-", "city, naturally,\nbut full of that condition of Youth, known as \"growing pains.\" So its\nshabby old \"Town Hall\" sign was thrown away, and a black and gold onyx\nslab, with \"CITY HALL\" blazing forth in vivid colors, put up, amidst\nband music, flag waving, parading and oratory. In only a month from\nthat glorious day, Gadsby found folks \"primping up\"; girls putting on\nbright ribbons; boys finding that suits could stand a good ironing;\nand", "stop. But did it? Possibly\nin _your_ town, but not around _my_ district! All Fourth of July\noutfits don't always function at first, you know; and no kid, (or\nadult!) would think of quitting until that last pop should pop; or that\nlast bang should bang. And so, many a dawn on July fifth found things\nstill going, full blast.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nYouth cannot stay for long in a condition of inactivity; and so, for\nonly about a month did things so stand", "_full_, would put it mildly. Although,\naccording to an old saying, \"a cat is only as big as its skin,\" that\nroom's walls almost burst, as groups of church organizations and law\nabiding inhabitants almost fought for admission; until standing room\nwas nothing but a suffocating jam. As Gadsby and Doc Wilkins sat\nwatching that sight, Gadsby said:--\n\n\"It's an outpouring of rightful wrath by a proud city's population;\nwho, having put out good, hard work in bringing it to its", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "visitors; and visitors, you know, _might_ turn into\ninhabitants! And so things finally got around to Inauguration Day; and,\nknowing that no kid could sit still in school on such an occasion, it\nwas put down for a Saturday; and, so many happy, shouting, hopping,\njumping kids stood waiting for His Honor to cut a satin ribbon in front\nof Sarah Young's Rainbow Arch, that grown folks had to wait, four\nblocks back. As Gadsby was roaming around with Lucy, to find if things\nshould", "its work, an' brings back a load o' grog, you'd find thot you had\nwild animals roight in this town, all roight, all roight.\"\n\nBut, as on so many occasions, this charming girl got a contribution,\nwith Old Lady Flanagan calling out from a front window:--\n\n\"Good luck, Lucy darlin'! I'm sorry I was so dom cranky!\"\n\nBut though popular opinion was in favor of having a zoo, popular\nopinion didn't hand in donations to within four thousand dollars", "Though this was a school graduation, Mayor Gadsby said it would do no\nharm to point out a plan for still adding to Branton Hills' public\nspirit:--\n\n\"This town is too plain; too dingy. Brick walls and asphalt paving\ndo not light up a town, but dim it. So I want to plant all kinds of\ngrowing things along many of our curbs. In our parks I want ponds\nwith gold fish, fancy ducks and big swans; row-boats, islands with\narbors, and lots of shr", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "\ncount only on a small group of rich old Shylocks to whom a bank-book\nwas a thing to look into or talk about only annually; that is, on\nbank-balancing days. This small minority got up a slogan:--\"Why Spoil\na Good Old Town?\" and actually did, off and on, talk a shopman out of\nfixing up his shop or grounds. This, you know, put additional vigor\ninto our Organization; inspiring a boy to bring up a plan for calling\na month,--say July,--\"pick-up, paint", "by Sarah; but Sarah sits just rocking, rocking, rocking,\nnow-a-days. Following on, again, is Old Tom Donaldson, Clancy Dowd,\n_and_--Old Lady Flanagan, with \"this dom thing I calls hoosband!\" And\nlastly, Marian and old Pat Ryan from our railway station's trunk room.\n\nSo it was just laugh, talk, \"stuff,\" and--\n\n * * * * *\n\nOh, hum! Folks can't stay all night, you know; so,", "got it a-going it had but two thousand\ninhabitants; now it has sixty thousand! And just ask your rivals to\npoint to any part of it that you didn't build up. Look at our Public\nLibrary, municipal band, occupational class rooms; auto and bus trips;\nand your circus which paid for music for sick folks. With you as Mayor,\n_boy!_ What an opportunity to boss and swing things your own way! Why,\nanything you might say is as good as law; and----\"\n\n\"Now, hold on, boy!\" said Gads", "part of town; for all Branton Hills was\nfond of its Mayor's \"baby girl.\"\n\nBut, during this rush and hubbub, how about Frank? Poor boy! Now,\nif you think that a young lad at such an instant is as calm as a\nmill-pond, you don't know romantic Youth, that's all. About forty of\nGadsby's old Organization boys, now manly young chaps, had bought him a\ncar, which Nancy was _not_ to know anything about until that throwing\nof old boots, and what is also", "ms; and so\ntwist a thought around as to say what I wish with as much clarity as I\ncan.)\n\nSo, now to go on with this odd contraption:\n\nBy Autumn, a man who took his vacation in July, would hardly know his\ntown upon coming back, so thoroughly had thousands \"dug in\" to aid in\nits transformation.\n\n\"Boys,\" said Gadsby, \"you can pat your own backs, if you can't find\nanybody to do it for you. This city is proud of you. And, girls, just\nsing", "'s so. Girls do fuss about dolls. My girls did.\"\n\n\"How many dolls has your girls got?\"\n\n\"Ha, ha! Not any, now. My girls all got grown up and big.\"\n\nDuring this calm, happy talk, a patrolman, coming up, said:--\n\n\"Shall I stick around, Your Honor? Any kidnapping facts?\"\n\n\"I don't know, just now. Wait around about an hour, and drop in again.\"\n\nSo His Honor, Mayor of Branton Hills, and Childhood sat on that grass", "it is as hard to avoid naming it,\nin this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach.\n\nOh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, \"for about\na million months,\" finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around\nto six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past\npractically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam\ninto that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx,\nblocking all traffic in that", "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "Norman would turn\nout all right.\"\n\nPastor Brown was right; and two Branton Hills girls, a Salvation Army\nlady, and a tiny tot of six had won crowns of Glory, from throwing rays\nof light into two badly stagnant Minds.\n\n\n\n\nXLIII\n\n\nThirty-six months. That's not so long a run in daily affairs, and this\nBranton Hills history finds Thanksgiving Day dawning. In Branton Hill's\nlocality it is not, customarily, what you would call a" ], [ "plodding along,\" living in a small room, with no\nfun, no constant company, no social goal to which to look forward; and\nhad, thus, grown into what boys call \"a big, old grouch.\" But it wasn't\nall Simpkins' fault. A human mind was built for contact with similar\nminds. It should,--in fact,--it _must_ think about what is going on\naround it; for, if it is shut up in a thick, dark, bony box of a skull,\nit will always stay in that condition known as \"", "and hard work as Man puts up with to\nobtain his food and lodging, a zoo animal, if it could only know of our\ndaily grind, would comfortably yawn, thankful that Man is so kindly\nlooking out for it. With similar animals all around it, and, day by\nday, just a happy growth from cub-hood to maturity, I almost wish that\nI was a zoo animal, with no boss to growl about my not showing up,\nmornings, at a customary hour!\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\n\nNow", ". So, with such firm convictions in his\nmind, this upstanding man was constantly striving so to act that no\ncomplaint from man, woman or child should bring a word of disapproval.\nIn his mind, what a man might do was that man's affair only and could\nstain no Soul but his own. And his altruism taught that it is not\ndifficult to find many ways in which to bring joy to such as cannot,\nthrough physical disability, go out to look for it; and that only a\nsmall bit of joy, brought to a shut-", "desk, all eagerly expecting to be\ncalled upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without\neven noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings\namongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen, looking down\nconstantly for a chance to drop off into some word; for all the world\nlike sea-birds perched, watching for a passing fish! But when they saw\nthat I had covered 138 pages of typewriter size paper, they slid off\nonto the floor, walking sadly away, arm in arm; but", "--\n\n\"Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as\nbig as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you\nsaw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an\ninquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which\nyou first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking\na small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at\nour Night", "spirits way, way down into a sorrowful slump. Black,\nugly, rumbling clouds hung aggravatingly about in a saturation of mist,\nrain and fog; and roads and lawns got such a washing that Nancy said:--\n\n\"Anyway, if I can't _walk_ across that front church yard, I can _swim\nit!!_\"\n\nThat was Nancy; a small bunch of inborn good humor; and I'll say, right\nnow, that it _took_ good humor, and lots of it, to look upon conditions", "it is as hard to avoid naming it,\nin this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach.\n\nOh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, \"for about\na million months,\" finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around\nto six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past\npractically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam\ninto that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx,\nblocking all traffic in that", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"", "in Old Lady Flanagan.\n\n\"Whoops! A zoo, is it? And pray, phwat can't thot crazy Gadsby think\nup? If our big Mayor had four sich bys as I brought into this woild;\nworra, worra! his parlor, halls, dinin' room an' back yard 'd furnish\nhim wid a zoo, all right! Wid two always a-scrappin' about a ball bat\nor a sling shot; a brat continually a-bawlin' about nuthin';", "do not grow upon shrubs, you know; and girls who work all day\nmust hurry at night, at manipulating a thousand or so things which go\ntowards adorning our girls of today.\n\nNow, an approach to a young girl's \"big day\" is not always as that\ngirl might wish. Small things bob up, which, at first, look actually\ndisastrous for a joyous occasion; and for Nancy and Frank, just such a\nthing did bob up; for, on May Third, a pouring rain and whistling wind\nput Branton Hills'", "doubt; actually a paradox, for\nit was a \"conscious coma;\" mornings on which Branton Hills' icy blood\nshrank from looking at our city's \"Post,\" for its casualty list was\nrapidly--too rapidly,--growing. Days and days of our girlhood and\nwomanhood rolling thousands of long, narrow cotton strips; packing\nloving gifts from many a pantry; Nancy and Kathlyn thinking constantly\nof Frank and John; Lucy almost down and out from worrying about Paul;\nKathlyn knowing just how Julius is missing his Hall of", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "so many of his\nCouncil had put forth so many complaints against starting such a school\nwithout charging for instruction. In an adjoining room His Honor's\nparty found boys banging and pounding happily; and, if you should\nask,--noisily,--on brasswork: making bowls, trays, lamp standards,\nphotograph stands, book supports and similar artistic things. Across\nfrom that was a blacksmith shop, with its customary flying sparks and\nsizzling cooling-vats.\n\nBut, by going upstairs, away from all this din", "up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,\ncan only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't\nshow up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our\nCapitol building at Washington.\n\nBut why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply\nbrought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across\ncountry; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such\na trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,", ", forward\nclutch and so forth was coming tomorrow.\n\n\"_Aw!!_\" said Dowd, moaningly, \"you know, Clancy, that good old light\nshifting about and that light 'stomping' in that row of stalls, at\nnight; you know, old man, that happy crunching of corn; that occasional\ncough; that tail-swatting at a fly or crazy zigzagging moth; that grand\nanimal odor from that back part of this floor.\"\n\n\"I do,\" said Clancy. \"And", "was chasing that car in from our\nsuburbs, says both horribly drunk, Antor grazing four cars, Madam\nshouting and singing wildly, with Grant arriving too tardily to ward\noff that final crash.'\"\n\nNow Lady Gadsby was, first of all, a woman; and so got up quickly,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Oh!! I must go down to poor young Mary, _right off!_\" and Gadsby sat\ntapping his foot, saying:--\n\n\"So Antor's pantry probably still holds that stuff. Too bad", "monotonous account, full of such\ncustomary \"fill-ins\" as \"romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down\na long, winding country road.\" Nor will it say anything about tinklings\nlulling distant folds; robins carolling at twilight, nor any \"warm glow\nof lamplight\" from a cabin window. No. It is an account of up-and-doing\nactivity; a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today; and a practical\ndiscarding of that worn-out notion that \"a child don'", "'s part of it. God's parlor is awfully big, you know.\"\n\n\"_My_ parlor is awfully _small_; and not any bloss---- Oh! Wouldn't\nGod----?\"\n\nGadsby's hunch was now working, full tilt; and so, as this loving\nfamily man, having had four kids of his own, and this tot from a poor\nfamily with its \"awfully small\" parlor,--had trod this big glass\nbuilding's paths again and again; round and round, an almost monstrous\ns", "itting, whistling,\nshining, sizzling, smoking four tons of apparatus roars past, grinding\nand banging on Broadway's paving! _You_ saw all that, Bill.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh,\" said Simpkins, \"but a motor don't hurt our paving so much.\"\n\nAs Nancy took His Honor's arm again, Gadsby said:--\n\n\"Poor, cranky old Bill! Always running things down.\"\n\nBut how about Clancy and Dowd? On moving out from that big park, that\n", "nights, nights!\nNights of two young chaps, in full clothing, only just napping on a\nparlor couch. Nights of two girls nodding in chairs in a dimly,--oh,\n_so_ dimly a lit room.\n\nIt got around almost to Christmas, only a fortnight to that happy day;\nbut,--happy in Gadsby's mansion? Finally Frank took a hand:--\n\n\"Now, kid, _do_ try to stop this crying! You know I'm not scolding you,\ndarling, but, you" ], [ "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "-up and wash-up month;\" for it was\na plain fact that, all about town, was many a shabby spot; a lot of\nbuildings could stand a good coat of paint, and yards raking up; thus\nshowing surrounding towns that not only _could_ Branton Hills \"doll\nup,\" but had a class of inhabitants who gladly would go at such a plan,\nand carry it through. So Gadsby got his \"gang\" out, to sally forth and\nany man or woman who did not jump, at first, at such a plan by vigorous", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without\na lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,\nmany who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash\nfor lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But\nall such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;\nthough an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk\nthat \"municipal graft\" was against him.\n\nNow Gadsby was vigorously against graft;", "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "\n\nAs soon as it was shown by official count, Branton Hills was a riot,\nfrom City Hall to City limits; throngs tramping around, tossing hats\naloft; for a hard-working man had won what many thousands thought was\nfair and just.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\n\nAs soon as Gadsby's inauguration had put him in a position to do things\nwith authority, his first act was to start things moving on that big\nauditorium plan, for which many capitalists had bought bonds. Again\npublic opinion had a lot to", "a night school was a good thing; but four,\nwith a faint glow of financial wisdom, (a rarity in politics, today!)\nsaw no cash in sight for such an institution.\n\nBut Gadsby's famous Organization won again! Branton Hills did not\ncontain a family in which this Organization wasn't known; and many a\nsock was brought out from hiding, and many a sofa pillow cut into, to\naid _any_ plan in which this group had a part.\n\nBut, just as funds had grown to what Mayor Gadsby thought would fill\nall such", "good opportunity for oratory, as thousands,\nout for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with\nplaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's\ngood points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any\npoint at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how\nthis man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for\nimproving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown\nup from an", "civic affairs for a bit, and go on to a most natural\nact in this city of many young chaps and charming young girls which\nwas slowly working up all through this history, as Mayor Gadsby had\noccasion to find out, sitting comfortably on his porch on a hot, sultry\nAugust night. Amidst blossoming shrubs, a dim form slowly trod up his\nwinding pathway. It was a young man, plainly trying to act calmly, but\ncouldn't. It was Frank Morgan, our radio broadcasting \"boss\", you", "which is\nnothing but sympathy for anybody who is \"down and out.\" No man can\nsay that Charity will not, during coming days, aid _him_ in supporting\nhis family; and it was Gadsby's claim that _humans_:--_not blocks of\nbuildings_, form what Mankind calls a city. But what would big, costly\nbuildings amount to, if all who work in such cannot maintain that good\nphysical condition paramount in carrying on a city's various forms of\nlabor? And not only _physical_ good, but also", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", ", as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a _young_\ncrowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its\n\"why-not-do-it-now?\" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big\nMunicipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built),\nMarian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:--\n\n\"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.\"\n\n\"Balloon? Balloon", "charming Fairy, which knows no\nhuman words, can bring. Around that gaudy band-stand, at two-thirty\non that first Sunday, sat or stood as happy a throng of old and young\nas any man could wish for; and Gadsby and his \"gang\" got hand-clasps\nand hand-claps, from all. A good band, you know, not only can stir and\nthrill you; for it can play a soft crooning lullaby, a lilting waltz or\npolka; or, with its wood winds,", "to\nfix thot barn door our old cow laid down against.\"\n\nHa, ha! What a circus our Organization had with such varying moods and\noutlooks! But, finally such a school was built; instructors brought in\nfrom surrounding towns; and Gadsby was as happy as a cat with a ball of\nyarn.\n\nAs Branton Hills found out what it can accomplish if it starts out with\nvigor and a will to win, our Organization thought of laying out a big\npark; furnishing an opportunity for small tots to romp and play on\ngr", "in invalid will carry with it such\na warmth as can flow only from acts of human sympathy.\n\nFor many days Gadsby had thought of ways in which folks with a goodly\nbank account could aid in building up this rapidly backsliding town of\nBranton Hills. But, how to show that class what a contribution could\ndo? In this town, full of capitalists and philanthropists contributing,\noff and on, for shipping warming pans to Zulus, Gadsby saw a solution.\nIn whom? Why, in just that bunch of bright, happy school kids,", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "city, naturally,\nbut full of that condition of Youth, known as \"growing pains.\" So its\nshabby old \"Town Hall\" sign was thrown away, and a black and gold onyx\nslab, with \"CITY HALL\" blazing forth in vivid colors, put up, amidst\nband music, flag waving, parading and oratory. In only a month from\nthat glorious day, Gadsby found folks \"primping up\"; girls putting on\nbright ribbons; boys finding that suits could stand a good ironing;\nand", "not only in city affairs but\nin any kind of transaction; and that stab brought forth such a flow of\noratory from him, that as voting for Mayor was soon to occur, it, and a\nlong list of good works, soon had him up for that position. But Gadsby\ndidn't want such a nomination; still, thousands of townsfolks who had\nknown him from childhood, would not hark to anything but his candidacy;\nand, soon, on window cards, signs, and flags across Broadway, was\nhis photograph and \"GADSBY FOR MAY", "back\nfrom many a visit to a _city_, and noting its ability in improving its\nliving conditions. So Gadsby thought of thus carrying an inkling to\nsuch capitalists as to how this stagnating town could claim a big spot\nupon our national map, which is now shown only in small, insignificant\nprint.\n\nAs a start, Branton Hills' \"Daily Post\" would carry a long story,\noutlining a list of factors for improving conditions. This it did; but\nit will always stay as a blot upon high minds and proud blood that", "_full_, would put it mildly. Although,\naccording to an old saying, \"a cat is only as big as its skin,\" that\nroom's walls almost burst, as groups of church organizations and law\nabiding inhabitants almost fought for admission; until standing room\nwas nothing but a suffocating jam. As Gadsby and Doc Wilkins sat\nwatching that sight, Gadsby said:--\n\n\"It's an outpouring of rightful wrath by a proud city's population;\nwho, having put out good, hard work in bringing it to its" ], [ "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "a youthful motorist, waiting dutifully at\na curb, thought that a full family history of both host and visitor was\nup for an airing. But old folks always _will_ talk and it will not do a\nboy or girl any harm to wait; for, you know, that boy or girl will act\nin just that way, at a not too far-off day!\n\nBut, popular as this touring plan was, it had to stop; for school\nagain took all young folks from such out-door activity. Nobody was so\nsorry at this as Gadsby", "of joy\nin living. So, as Gadsby stood, on a chilly fall day, in front of that\nbig glass building which was built for a city florist, admiring a\ncharming display of blossoming plants, a small girl, still in Grammar\nSchool, said, shyly:--\n\n\"Hulloa.\"\n\n\"Hulloa, you. School out?\"\n\n\"On Saturdays, school is always out.\"\n\n\"That's so; it _is_ Saturday, isn't it? Going in?\"\n\n\"", " GUTENBERG EBOOK GADSBY***\n\n\nE-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)\n\n\n\nGADSBY\n\n +--------------------------------+\n | _A Story of Over 50,000 Words_ |\n | _Without Using the Letter \"E\"_ |\n +--------------------------------+\n\nby\n\nERNEST VINCENT WRIGHT\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWetzel Publishing Co.,", "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "Gadsby thrill? Did that long-past, happy day\nfloat in glowing colors through his mind? It did. And now that old,\nhard-working bunch of kids, grown up, now, and with kids of its own;\nthat loyal bunch of young sprouts was taking root; was born again!\n\nOh, _how_ Youth crawls up on you! How a tiny girl \"almost instantly\"\nshoots up into a tall, charming young woman! _How_ a top-spinning,\nball-tossing, racing, shouting boy looms up", "So did my Dad.\"\n\nAnd, as Virginia Adams was that trio's third part; and as Sarah and\nDoris had always known Nina Adams' strong will; and as,--Oh, hum! It\nwas a happy fascination until adult minds got hold of it!\n\n\nXXIX\n\n\nGadsby was walking back from a visit down in Branton Hills'\nmanufacturing district on a Saturday night. A busy day's traffic had\nhad its noisy run; and with not many folks in sight, His Honor got\nalong without having to stop to grasp", "and so, up\nalmost to Thanksgiving, this big coach ran daily.\n\nAs Spring got around again, this \"man-of-all-work\" thought of driving\naway a shut-in invalid's monotony by having musicians go to such rooms,\nto play; or, by taking along a vocalist or trio, sing such old songs\nas always bring back happy days. This work Gadsby thought of paying\nfor by putting on a circus. And _was_ it a circus? _It was!!_ It had\nboys forming both front and hind lim", "own family.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n\nI think that now you should know this charming Gadsby family; so I will\nbring forth Lady Gadsby, about whom I told you at Gadsby's inauguration\nas Mayor; a loyal church woman with a vocal ability for choir work;\nand, with good capability on piano or organ, no woman could \"fill in\"\nin so many ways; and no woman was so willing, and quick to do so.\nGadsby had two sons; bright lads and popular with all. Julius was of\na stud", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without\na lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,\nmany who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash\nfor lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But\nall such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;\nthough an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk\nthat \"municipal graft\" was against him.\n\nNow Gadsby was vigorously against graft;", "ow was built on a lot of Gadsby's, facing City Park;\nand Nancy put in many days arranging things in it. Anybody who has had\nsuch joyful work to do, knows how assiduously a young pair would go\nabout it; for two young robins carrying bits of cotton and string up to\na criss-cross of twigs in a big oak, with constant soft, loving chirps,\n\"had nothing,\" according to our popular slang, on Nancy and Frank.\n\nFinally \"moving in day\" got around, with that customary", "\nGadsby said not a word; slowly strolling down a path amidst thousands\nof gladioli; around a turn, and up a path, along which stood pots and\npots of fuchsias, salvias and cannas; and to a cross-path, down which\nwas a big flat pansy patch, tubs of blossoming lilacs, and stiff,\nstraight carnations. Not a word from Gadsby, for his mind was on that\nsmall bunch of rapturous joy just in front of him. But, finally, just\n", "; and it is still on, today! But\nthis family was not all boys. Oh, my, no! Two girls also sat around\nthat family board. First, following William, was Nancy, who, as Gadsby\nlaughingly said, \"didn't know how to grow;\" and now, in High School,\nwas \"about as big as a pint of milk;\" and of such outstanding charm\nthat Gadsby continually got solicitations to allow photographing for\nsoft-drink and similar billboard displays.\n\n\"No, sir!! Not for any sort of pay!!", "skips and jumps, strict chronological continuity is not a possibility.\nSo, Marian is now half grown-up. Now that big airport, as you also\nknow, was just back of Marian's back yard; and as that yard was much\ntoo big for anything that Marian's Dad could do with it, it was put\nup for disposal. But nobody would go to look at it; to say nothing\nof buying it. But Old Bill Simpkins, past antagonist of Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth, did go out to look at it; but said", "to pat, tiny lips to kiss, and\na tiny, warm, wriggling body to hug, Man would know nothing but work.\"\n\nGadsby sat smoking for a bit, finally saying:--\n\n\"Darling, that pair of robins up in that big oak with four young, and\nyou and I in this big building, also with four, know all about what\nyou just said; and, and,--hmmm! It's almost midnight.\" And His Honor's\nmansion was soon dark; bathing in soft moonlight.\n\n\n\n\nXX", "with this childish\ninstability of thought, this tiny miss ran up onto Gadsby's porch and\nstood in front of Old Bill, looking up at him, but saying not a word.\n\n\"Huh!\" Bill just _had_ to snort. \"Looking at anything?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"_What!!_ Oh, that is, you think 'not much,' probably. What do you\nwant, anyway?\"\n\n\"I want to play.\"\n\n\"All right; run along and play.\"\n\n\"No; I want to play with _", "nights, nights!\nNights of two young chaps, in full clothing, only just napping on a\nparlor couch. Nights of two girls nodding in chairs in a dimly,--oh,\n_so_ dimly a lit room.\n\nIt got around almost to Christmas, only a fortnight to that happy day;\nbut,--happy in Gadsby's mansion? Finally Frank took a hand:--\n\n\"Now, kid, _do_ try to stop this crying! You know I'm not scolding you,\ndarling, but, you", "'s part of it. God's parlor is awfully big, you know.\"\n\n\"_My_ parlor is awfully _small_; and not any bloss---- Oh! Wouldn't\nGod----?\"\n\nGadsby's hunch was now working, full tilt; and so, as this loving\nfamily man, having had four kids of his own, and this tot from a poor\nfamily with its \"awfully small\" parlor,--had trod this big glass\nbuilding's paths again and again; round and round, an almost monstrous\ns", "Gadsby, folding his \"Post\" into a narrow column, and handing it to that\nwaiting lady, said nothing. As that good woman saw that paragraph,\nGadsby saw first a gasp, following that, a grin, and finally:--\n\n\"_Why!_ Of all things! So _that's_ Nina--\"\n\nThat row of print said, simply:--\n\n\"By Pastor Brown, on Saturday night, in Pastor's study, Nina Adams and\nCouncilman Simpkins.\"\n\n\"Why!\" said Lady Gadsby" ], [ "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "status that it had no form of transportation to\nsurrounding towns but by railroad, or \"old Dobbin.\" Now, any town thus\nisolating its inhabitants, will invariably find this big, busy world\npassing it by; glancing at it, curiously, as at an odd animal at a\ncircus; and, you will find, caring not a whit about its condition.\nNaturally, a town should grow. You can look upon it as a child; which,\nthrough natural conditions, should attain manhood; and add to its\nsurrounding th", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "city, naturally,\nbut full of that condition of Youth, known as \"growing pains.\" So its\nshabby old \"Town Hall\" sign was thrown away, and a black and gold onyx\nslab, with \"CITY HALL\" blazing forth in vivid colors, put up, amidst\nband music, flag waving, parading and oratory. In only a month from\nthat glorious day, Gadsby found folks \"primping up\"; girls putting on\nbright ribbons; boys finding that suits could stand a good ironing;\nand", "grown inhabitants of a city, do know what will add to its popularity;\nand having had a part in bringing about such conditions, it was but\nnatural to look back upon such, as any military man might at winning a\ndifficult fight.\n\nSo, finally our big day was at hand! That it might not cut into school\nhours, it was on a Saturday; and, by noon, about a thousand kids,\nsinging, shouting and waving flags, stood in formation at City Park,\nawaiting, with growing thrills, a signal which would start as big a\nturn-", "that trying to instill any such notions into a town's ruling body\nis about as satisfactory as butting against a brick wall. Such \"Boards\"\nas you find ruling many a small town, function from such a soporific\nrut that any hint of digging cash from its cast iron strong box with\nits big brass padlock, will fall upon minds as rigid as rock.\n\nBranton Hills _had_ such a man, to whom such rigidity was as annoying\nas a thorn in his foot. Continuous trials brought only continual\nthorn-pricks;", "_full_, would put it mildly. Although,\naccording to an old saying, \"a cat is only as big as its skin,\" that\nroom's walls almost burst, as groups of church organizations and law\nabiding inhabitants almost fought for admission; until standing room\nwas nothing but a suffocating jam. As Gadsby and Doc Wilkins sat\nwatching that sight, Gadsby said:--\n\n\"It's an outpouring of rightful wrath by a proud city's population;\nwho, having put out good, hard work in bringing it to its", "part of town; for all Branton Hills was\nfond of its Mayor's \"baby girl.\"\n\nBut, during this rush and hubbub, how about Frank? Poor boy! Now,\nif you think that a young lad at such an instant is as calm as a\nmill-pond, you don't know romantic Youth, that's all. About forty of\nGadsby's old Organization boys, now manly young chaps, had bought him a\ncar, which Nancy was _not_ to know anything about until that throwing\nof old boots, and what is also", "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "visitors; and visitors, you know, _might_ turn into\ninhabitants! And so things finally got around to Inauguration Day; and,\nknowing that no kid could sit still in school on such an occasion, it\nwas put down for a Saturday; and, so many happy, shouting, hopping,\njumping kids stood waiting for His Honor to cut a satin ribbon in front\nof Sarah Young's Rainbow Arch, that grown folks had to wait, four\nblocks back. As Gadsby was roaming around with Lucy, to find if things\nshould", "-up and wash-up month;\" for it was\na plain fact that, all about town, was many a shabby spot; a lot of\nbuildings could stand a good coat of paint, and yards raking up; thus\nshowing surrounding towns that not only _could_ Branton Hills \"doll\nup,\" but had a class of inhabitants who gladly would go at such a plan,\nand carry it through. So Gadsby got his \"gang\" out, to sally forth and\nany man or woman who did not jump, at first, at such a plan by vigorous", "back\nfrom many a visit to a _city_, and noting its ability in improving its\nliving conditions. So Gadsby thought of thus carrying an inkling to\nsuch capitalists as to how this stagnating town could claim a big spot\nupon our national map, which is now shown only in small, insignificant\nprint.\n\nAs a start, Branton Hills' \"Daily Post\" would carry a long story,\noutlining a list of factors for improving conditions. This it did; but\nit will always stay as a blot upon high minds and proud blood that", "\ncount only on a small group of rich old Shylocks to whom a bank-book\nwas a thing to look into or talk about only annually; that is, on\nbank-balancing days. This small minority got up a slogan:--\"Why Spoil\na Good Old Town?\" and actually did, off and on, talk a shopman out of\nfixing up his shop or grounds. This, you know, put additional vigor\ninto our Organization; inspiring a boy to bring up a plan for calling\na month,--say July,--\"pick-up, paint", "Though this was a school graduation, Mayor Gadsby said it would do no\nharm to point out a plan for still adding to Branton Hills' public\nspirit:--\n\n\"This town is too plain; too dingy. Brick walls and asphalt paving\ndo not light up a town, but dim it. So I want to plant all kinds of\ngrowing things along many of our curbs. In our parks I want ponds\nwith gold fish, fancy ducks and big swans; row-boats, islands with\narbors, and lots of shr", "got it a-going it had but two thousand\ninhabitants; now it has sixty thousand! And just ask your rivals to\npoint to any part of it that you didn't build up. Look at our Public\nLibrary, municipal band, occupational class rooms; auto and bus trips;\nand your circus which paid for music for sick folks. With you as Mayor,\n_boy!_ What an opportunity to boss and swing things your own way! Why,\nanything you might say is as good as law; and----\"\n\n\"Now, hold on, boy!\" said Gads", "craving instruction, is apt so\nto dull its avidity, as to hold it back in its school work. Try to\nlook upon a child as a small, soft young body and a rapidly growing,\nconstantly inquiring brain. It must grow to maturity slowly. Forcing a\nchild through school by constant night study during hours in which it\nshould run and play, can bring on insomnia; handicapping both brain and\nbody.\n\nNow this small town in our story had grown in just that way:--slowly;\nin fact, much _too_ slowly to", "pals brings to a child that natural thrill from accomplishing anything\nworthy of public acclaim. Such thrills will not crowd in as Maturity\nsupplants Youth; and so I say, \"a trio of our customary huzzas\" for any\nchild who can carry away a satin ribbon from a County Fair.\n\nBut what about our good Mayor during all this circus hullabaloo? Did\nimportant thoughts for still improving Branton Hills pass through his\nbusy mind? Not just now; but fond, anxious thoughts did; for his mind\nwas constantly on", "ships, just _dripping_\nwith lilacs, as still and noncommittal as old Gibraltar. Slowly, on and\non it is coming; finally stopping right at that spot upon which our\ngroup is standing; forty boys, forty girls, and a big mob, all as still\nas a church. What _is_ it, anyway? Is anybody in it? Not a sign of it.\nBut wait! Aha! It _has_ an occupant, for, coming out of that lilac\nglory is----_Parson Brown!!_ Parson Brown", "until, finally, a brilliant plan took form as John\nGadsby found Branton Hills' High School pupils waking up to Branton\nHills' sloth. Gadsby continually found this bright young bunch asking:--\n\n\"Aw! Why is this town so slow? It's nothing but a dry twig!!\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Gadsby; \"A dry twig! That's it! Many a living, blossoming\nbranch all around us, and this solitary dry twig, with a tag hanging\nfrom it, on which you will find" ], [ "; and \"Station KBH\" was born! Though it\nis not important to follow it from now on, I will say that our vast\ncountry, by tuning in on KBH, found out a lot about this Utopia.\n\n\"You know that good old yarn,\" said Gadsby, \"about making so good a\nrat-trap that millions will tramp down your grass in making a path to\nyour front door.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n\nNow don't think that our famous Organization, having shown its worth on\nso many occasions, sat down", "a night school was a good thing; but four,\nwith a faint glow of financial wisdom, (a rarity in politics, today!)\nsaw no cash in sight for such an institution.\n\nBut Gadsby's famous Organization won again! Branton Hills did not\ncontain a family in which this Organization wasn't known; and many a\nsock was brought out from hiding, and many a sofa pillow cut into, to\naid _any_ plan in which this group had a part.\n\nBut, just as funds had grown to what Mayor Gadsby thought would fill\nall such", "s just grand; but what will Papa say?\"\n\nNow Gadsby had known Lucy's family from boyhood, so said:--\n\n\"You inform your dad that at any sign of balking by him, I'll put HIM\nin Lucy Zoo, and pay a boy to prod him with a sharp stick, until his\napproval is in my hands.\" This brought such a rollicking laugh that a\nman mowing City Hall lawn had to laugh, too.\n\nNow, (Ah! But I can't avoid saying it!) our Organization was out again;", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "quickly!_ Say that I want your Captain\nto notify my folks that Lillian is all right.\"\n\n\"Good gosh, Your Honor!! Is this tot your grandchild?\"\n\n\"Grandchild or no grandchild, _you dash to that box!!_\"\n\nAnd so, again, John Gadsby, Champion of Youth, had shown officialdom\nthat a child's brain and that of an adult vary as do a gigantic oak and\nits tiny acorn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\n\nMost of Gadsby's old Organization of Youth was", "finally, groups and\npairs, drifting out, all had happy words for His Honor and Lady Gadsby;\nand His Honor, a word or two; for you know Gadsby _can_ talk? So it\nwas:--\n\n\"Good night, Nina; good luck, Old Bill! Oh! say, Bill; will _that_\ncigar blow up? Good night, Virginia; and ta-ta Patricia; and Virginia,\nyou mind your Ma and stay down on solid ground! Aha, Clancy! You old\nmotor-pump fan! No", "to\nfix thot barn door our old cow laid down against.\"\n\nHa, ha! What a circus our Organization had with such varying moods and\noutlooks! But, finally such a school was built; instructors brought in\nfrom surrounding towns; and Gadsby was as happy as a cat with a ball of\nyarn.\n\nAs Branton Hills found out what it can accomplish if it starts out with\nvigor and a will to win, our Organization thought of laying out a big\npark; furnishing an opportunity for small tots to romp and play on\ngr", ", City Councilman,\" would\nshow an anxiously waiting world how to run a city; though probably, I\nthink, how _not_ to run it.\n\nIt is truly surprising what a narrow mind, what a blind outlook a man,\nbrought up with practically no opposition to his boyhood wants, can\nattain; though brought into contact with indisputably important data\nfor improving his city. Our Organization boys thought Bill \"a bit off;\"\nbut Gadsby would only laugh at his blasts against paying out city\nfunds; for, you know, all bombs don'", ", as this girl, as\nbadly blown as Lucy was in asking for a zoo, ran up, calling out:--\n\n\"I GOT IT!! I GOT IT!!\"\n\n\"Got what? A fit?\"\n\n\"No! I got that final four thousand dollars! It's from Lady Standish,\nwho says that way back in school days, you and----\"\n\n\"Whoa!! That was back in _history!_\" but Gadsby was blushing, and Sarah\nwas winking, coyly.\n\nNow Gadsby was as fond", "boss,\" I think it will\npass in this oddly built-up story. Now I am going to boost our famous\nOrganization again, by stating that a boy from its ranks, Frank Morgan,\nwas put in; for it was a hobby of Gadsby to put Branton Hills boys in\nBranton Hills Municipal jobs. So Frank, right away, got all sorts of\ncalls for hours or half hours to broadcast \"most astounding bargains\"\nin clothing, salad oils, motor oils, motor \"gas\", soaps, cars, and\ntooth brush lubric", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "_full_, would put it mildly. Although,\naccording to an old saying, \"a cat is only as big as its skin,\" that\nroom's walls almost burst, as groups of church organizations and law\nabiding inhabitants almost fought for admission; until standing room\nwas nothing but a suffocating jam. As Gadsby and Doc Wilkins sat\nwatching that sight, Gadsby said:--\n\n\"It's an outpouring of rightful wrath by a proud city's population;\nwho, having put out good, hard work in bringing it to its", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", "OR;\" and a campaign was on which\nstill rings in Branton Hills' history as \"hot stuff!\" Four aspiring\npoliticians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby\nonly his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy\nfor him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or\nhastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that\n\"our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if _I_ am not its\nMayor!\" But our Organization now took", "against aircraft; oil lamps against arc lights!\nSlow, mail information against radio! But, as all this stuff is laid\nout, what will you do with it? Nobody wants it. So I say, burn it, and\ntomorrow morning, how happy you will find that musty old mind!\"\n\nBut His Honor's mansion finally got back to normal as clouds of dust\nand swats and slaps from dusting cloths had shown Lady Gadsby and\nKathlyn that \"that parlor was simply awful\" though Gadsby, Julius and\nBill always had thought", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did" ], [ "aglow that night, that \"World War\nflag\" not hanging in his window now. And so, on Labor Day night, Lady\nGadsby and His Honor, sitting in his parlor, thought that a light\nfootfall was sounding out on his porch. As Gadsby got up to find\nout about it, Julius, coming in with a young girl, stood looking,\ngrinningly, at Lady Gadsby; who, jumping up, said, happily:--\n\n\"Why! Mary Antor!!\"\n\n\"No, Ma,\" said Julius. \"This", ", sang out:--\n\n\"Say!! If this scrap stops, and a _big_ war starts,--_Aha_, boy! You\njust watch Allan Banks! Son of Councilman Banks!!\" and a small fist was\npounding viciously on an also small bosom.\n\n\"By golly!\" said Gadsby, walking away, \"that's Tomorrow talking!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo now this history will drift along; along through days and months;\ndays and months of that awful gnawing", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "s porch, with\nfour small Rankins playing around; or was walking around that back yard\nfull of cats, dogs, rabbits, and so on, with no thought of soap box\norations in his mind.\n\n\n\n\nXXXI\n\n\nOn a grand autumn morning Branton Hills' \"Post\" boys ran shouting down\nBroadway, showing in half-foot wording: \"FIGHTING STOPS!! HISTORY'S\nMOST DISASTROUS WAR IS HISTORY NOW!!!\" and again, Branton Hills stood\nstock still. But only for", "finally, groups and\npairs, drifting out, all had happy words for His Honor and Lady Gadsby;\nand His Honor, a word or two; for you know Gadsby _can_ talk? So it\nwas:--\n\n\"Good night, Nina; good luck, Old Bill! Oh! say, Bill; will _that_\ncigar blow up? Good night, Virginia; and ta-ta Patricia; and Virginia,\nyou mind your Ma and stay down on solid ground! Aha, Clancy! You old\nmotor-pump fan! No", "visitors; and visitors, you know, _might_ turn into\ninhabitants! And so things finally got around to Inauguration Day; and,\nknowing that no kid could sit still in school on such an occasion, it\nwas put down for a Saturday; and, so many happy, shouting, hopping,\njumping kids stood waiting for His Honor to cut a satin ribbon in front\nof Sarah Young's Rainbow Arch, that grown folks had to wait, four\nblocks back. As Gadsby was roaming around with Lucy, to find if things\nshould", "ist who knows about\nsuch things would out-talk you without half trying. No, darling, this\npolitical stuff is too big for you. You just look out for things in\nthat small bungalow of yours, and allow Branton Hills to fight to put\nBill in. You know my old slogan:--'Man at a city's front; woman at a\ncabin door.'\"\n\nAnd Nancy, fondly stroking his hand, said:\n\n\"Man at a city's front! What a grand post for a man! A city, a big,\n", ", as this girl, as\nbadly blown as Lucy was in asking for a zoo, ran up, calling out:--\n\n\"I GOT IT!! I GOT IT!!\"\n\n\"Got what? A fit?\"\n\n\"No! I got that final four thousand dollars! It's from Lady Standish,\nwho says that way back in school days, you and----\"\n\n\"Whoa!! That was back in _history!_\" but Gadsby was blushing, and Sarah\nwas winking, coyly.\n\nNow Gadsby was as fond", "ballot\nagainst him; and Bill would hold that honor now, but for 'Old Glory's'\ncalling.\"\n\nThat's right, Nancy darling, you stick up for Bill; for, though\nBill didn't know it until many months, a citation \"for outstanding\nand valorous conduct in action\" was soon to go through our National\nPrinting Plant! For a \"city fop\" or an \"outdoor part of a tailor shop\"\nis not always a boob, you know.\n\nGadsby's mansion was again brightly", "ships, just _dripping_\nwith lilacs, as still and noncommittal as old Gibraltar. Slowly, on and\non it is coming; finally stopping right at that spot upon which our\ngroup is standing; forty boys, forty girls, and a big mob, all as still\nas a church. What _is_ it, anyway? Is anybody in it? Not a sign of it.\nBut wait! Aha! It _has_ an occupant, for, coming out of that lilac\nglory is----_Parson Brown!!_ Parson Brown", "ar\nrail.\n\nMonths, months, months! Branton Hills was again at its big railroad\nstation, its Municipal Band playing our grand National air, as a long\ntroop train, a solid mass of bunting, was snorting noisily in. And,\namidst that outpouring flood of Branton Hills boys, Lady Gadsby, Nancy,\nKathlyn and His Honor found Bill, Julius, Frank and John. Sarah was\njust \"going all apart\" in Paul's arms, with Virginia swooning in\nHarold's", "His baby girl a Matron! His baby girl proudly placing a\n_grandchild_ in his lap!! It's an impossibility!! But this big world\nis full of this kind of impossibility, and will stay so as long as Man\nlasts.\n\nSo Nancy, tiny, happy, laughing Nancy, was \"found\" through a conspiracy\nby Dan Cupid and Frank Morgan; and right in all glory of youth.\n_Youth!!_ Ah, what a word!! And how transitory! But, how grand! as long\nas it lasts. How many millions in", "of\nhumanity roars of congratulation burst forth. As soon as Mayor Brown\nshook hands (and such tiny, warm, soft young hands, too!) with all, a\nbig out-door lunch was found waiting on a charming lawn back of City\nHall; and this was no World War mobilization lunch of doughnuts and a\nhot dog sandwich; but, as two of Gadsby's sons said, was \"an all-round,\ngood, big fill-up;\" and many a boy's and girl's \"tummy\" was soon as\nround and t", "Natural History,\nand how its staff is praying for him; Nancy's radio shut down _tight_,\nfor so much as a thought of Station KBH was as a thrust of a sword.\nDays. Days. Days of shouting orators, blaring bands, troops from far\naway pausing at our big railway station, as girls, going through long\ntrains of cars, took doughnuts and hot drinks. In Gadsby's parlor\nwindow hung that famous \"World War flag\" of nothing but stars; nobody\nknowing at what instant a _gold_ star", "against aircraft; oil lamps against arc lights!\nSlow, mail information against radio! But, as all this stuff is laid\nout, what will you do with it? Nobody wants it. So I say, burn it, and\ntomorrow morning, how happy you will find that musty old mind!\"\n\nBut His Honor's mansion finally got back to normal as clouds of dust\nand swats and slaps from dusting cloths had shown Lady Gadsby and\nKathlyn that \"that parlor was simply awful\" though Gadsby, Julius and\nBill always had thought", "a man and woman start actually living. It's\nmiraculous, Paul, that's just what it is.\"\n\nAnd so it was; pairs and groups shaking hands and laughing, until\nfinally a big buxom woman sang out:--\n\n\"_Whoops!!_ It was a _wow_ of a grub-lay-out! It _was_ thot! But this\ndom thing I calls hoosband. Say! You grub-stuffin' varmint! Phwat's\nthat in your hat? A droom-stick,", "uch good as that which builds, or maintains hospitalization for all.\nA library, a school, a boys' or girls' club, a vacation facility, a\n\"chair\" of this or that in an institution of instruction,--all do much\nto build up a community. Both doctoring as a study for a young man, and\nnursing for a girl form most important parts of Mankind's activity.\n\nAnd so, just four months from that awful, but also happy day, Arthur\nRankin sat in a hammock with Priscilla, on Lady Standish'", "! Arthur, with whom Priscilla had had many a childhood\nspat! Arthur who had shown that \"puppy stuff\" for Priscilla, that his\nold aunt was always so disapprovingly sniffing at! And now, unconscious\non a,----\n\nWith a murmuring of sympathy from that sorrowing public, now\ndissolving, as all crowds do, Priscilla had a quick, comforting\nthought: \"Kathlyn is working at that hospital!\"\n\nKathlyn had known Arthur as long as Priscilla had; and Kathlyn's", "this history shows that that mouthy\nantagonist who had had so much to say about \"pink satin ribbons\" and\n\"vanilla sprays,\" didn't win. No. A first class man got that position;\nold Tom Young, Sarah's Dad, as good an old soul as any in all Branton\nHills. And was Sarah happy! Oh, my! And was Sarah proud! Two \"oh, mys!\"\nTiny Nancy, loyal as always to Bill, said:--\n\n\"Bill was as good as in, for nobody, knowing my Bill would", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you" ], [ "water. And I received one most scathing epistle from a\nlady (woman!) denouncing me as a \"genuine fake;\" (that paradox being\na most interesting one!), and ending by saying:--\"Everyone knows\nthat such a feat is impossible.\" All right. Then the impossible has\nbeen accomplished; (a paradox to equal hers!) Other criticism may be\ndirected at the Introduction; but this section of a story _also_ is not\npart of it. The author is entitled to it, in order properly to explain\nhis work. The story", "required five and a half months of concentrated\nendeavor, with so many erasures and retrenchments that I tremble as\nI think of them. Of course anybody can write such a story. All that\nis needed is a piece of string tied from the E type-bar down to some\npart of the base of the typewriter. Then simply go ahead and type your\nstory. Incidentally, you should have some sort of a bromide preparation\nhandy, for use when the going gets rough, as it most assuredly will!\n\nBefore the book was in print, I was freely and", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "'s part of it. God's parlor is awfully big, you know.\"\n\n\"_My_ parlor is awfully _small_; and not any bloss---- Oh! Wouldn't\nGod----?\"\n\nGadsby's hunch was now working, full tilt; and so, as this loving\nfamily man, having had four kids of his own, and this tot from a poor\nfamily with its \"awfully small\" parlor,--had trod this big glass\nbuilding's paths again and again; round and round, an almost monstrous\ns", "nights, nights!\nNights of two young chaps, in full clothing, only just napping on a\nparlor couch. Nights of two girls nodding in chairs in a dimly,--oh,\n_so_ dimly a lit room.\n\nIt got around almost to Christmas, only a fortnight to that happy day;\nbut,--happy in Gadsby's mansion? Finally Frank took a hand:--\n\n\"Now, kid, _do_ try to stop this crying! You know I'm not scolding you,\ndarling, but, you", "thinking; finally coming out\nonto that ivy-bound porch, and sitting down by His Honor, saying:--\n\n\"That was just grand, John, but I was thinking along a path varying a\nbit from that. You know that Man's brain is _actually_ all of him. All\nparts of his body, as you follow down from his brain, act simply as\naids to it. His nostrils bring him air; his mouth is for masticating\nhis food; his hands and limbs furnish ability for manipulation and\nlocomotion; and his lungs,", "it is as hard to avoid naming it,\nin this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach.\n\nOh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, \"for about\na million months,\" finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around\nto six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past\npractically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam\ninto that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx,\nblocking all traffic in that", "his\nbrain!! Up, out, in; all kinds of ways!! _What_ crashing bombs!!\n\nAnd, that first calm night on Old Lady Flanagan's porch; that moonlit\nnight of bliss, with soft, cuddling, snuggling, laughing, crying\ndarling Mary!\n\n\"I say,\" Norman was shouting, inwardly; \"that night of bliss _was_ a\nnight of bliss and _don't anybody try to say that it wasn't!_\"\n\nFor it was a night on which a young man's", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"", "; and, again a birth,\na tooth, and so on. Such is that mighty Law, which was laid down on\nthat first of all days; and which will control Man, animal, and plant\nuntil that last of all nights.\n\nSo it was first Nancy, and now Kathlyn; and Branton Hills' gossips\nthought of Bill and Julius, with whom many a young, romantic maid would\ngladly sit in a wistaria-drooping arbor on a warm, moon-lit night;\nflighty maids with Bill, adoring his high", "up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,\ncan only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't\nshow up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our\nCapitol building at Washington.\n\nBut why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply\nbrought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across\ncountry; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such\na trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,", "continue\nthat line of thought; hence, as in Solitaire, you are \"stuck,\" and must\ngo way back and start another; which, of course, must perfectly fit the\npreceding context.\n\nI have received some extremely odd criticisms since the Associated\nPress widely announced that such a book was being written. A\nrapid-talking New York newspaper columnist wanted to know how I would\nget over the plain fact that my name contains the letter E three times.\nAs an author's name is _not_ a part of his story, that criticism\ndid not hold", ",\ndown, down, almost grazing that small roof, Frank, poor chap, as shaky\nas at his church ritual, thirty months ago, staid away from Radio\nStation KBH, and stuck to that small bungalow as a fly sticks around a\nsugar bowl.\n\nFinally, on a crisp Autumn night, that soaring bird shot straight down\nwith such an assuring swoop, that old Doc Wilkins, indoors with Nancy,\nsaw it and said, quickly:--\n\n\"On your way, Nancy girl!!\" and that part", "\n\nI find _two_ \"posts of honor;\" (My gracious! _so_ far apart!); His\nHonor, with carving tools filling dish, dish, and dish.\n\n\"Atta boy! Atta girl! Pass up your chow-dish! This bird has but two\ndrum-sticks, but six of his cousins wait, out in our cook-shop! Lots of\ngrub! What's that, Julius? A bit of dark? Want any gravy?\"\n\nAt Post Two sits \"Ma;\" again in that good old", "openly informed \"there\nis a trick, or catch,\" somewhere in that claim that there is not one\nletter E in the entire book, after you leave the Introduction. Well; it\nis the privilege of the reader to unearth any such deception that he\nor she may think they can find. I have even ordered the printer not to\nhead each chapter with the words \"Chapter 2,\" etc., on account of that\nbothersome E in that word.\n\nIn closing let me say that I trust you may learn to love all the young\nfolks in the story, as deeply as I", "for living actuality. Not only with Man and\nanimals, but also down,--way, _way_ down amongst plants. Just two\nparts. Only two!! And Baby, you tiny bunch of wriggling, gurgling\nhumanity, by that slowly ticking clock is _your_ turn in this mighty\nWorld, unavoidably arriving. Mama, Papa, and all of us will go on, for\na bit, growing old and gray, but you, now so young and frail, will\nstand sturdily, and willingly, in our vacancy; and carry", "--\n\n\"Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as\nbig as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you\nsaw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an\ninquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which\nyou first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking\na small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at\nour Night", "on God's will!\n\n\n\n\nXV\n\n\nAs this is a history of a city I must not stay around any part too\nlong. So, as it was almost \"a small morning hour,\" Nina Adams, a widow,\nwas sitting up; for Virginia, a High School girl, was still out; and,\naround two-thirty, was brought back in a fast car; two youths actually\n_dumping_ an unconscious form on Nina's front porch, and dashing\nmadly away. But Nina Adams saw it; and, calling for aid in carrying", "ly just full of snarls and growls about\nBranton Hills' Youth.\n\n\"Silly half-grown young animals, found out that two plus two is four,\nand thinking that _all_ things will fit, just that way!\"\n\nNow that small girl, \"of about six,\" who had had Nancy's baby out in\nCity Park, was passing Gadsby's mansion, and saw Old Bill. A kid of\nsix has, as you probably know, no formally laid-out plan for its daily\nactivity; anything bobbing up will attract. So,", "which would instruct a child\nin any way, was worthy. So, on a Saturday morning His Honor took a\ngroup of Grammar School pupils to a balcony in back of that all-hiding\npartition, and a postal official, showing all mail handling acts\nindividually, said:--\n\n\"In this country, two things stand first in rank: your flag and your\nmail. You all know what honor you pay to your flag, but you should\nknow, also, that your mail,--just that ordinary postal card--is also\nimportant. But a postal card," ], [ "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "on any kind of an occasion for public good. A loyal\nchurchman, Gadsby was a man who, though admitting that an occasional\nfault in our daily acts is bound to occur, had taught his two boys and\na pair of girls that, though folks do slip from what Scriptural authors\ncall that \"straight and narrow path,\" it will not pay to risk your own\nSoul by slipping, just so that you can laugh at your ability in staying\nout of prison; for Gadsby, having grown up in Branton Hills, could\npoint to many such man or woman", ", our young solicitor got a loving kiss, with:--\n\n\"A zoo! Oh! how truly charming! What _grand_ things Mayor Gadsby\ncan think up without half trying!\" And Sarah had to grin, thinking\nof Lucy, and Old Lady Flanagan's opinion of His Honor! \"You may not\nknow it, Sarah,\" said Lady Standish, \"but John Gadsby and I had a big\nflirtation, way back in our school days. And HOW downcast poor Johnny\nwas at my finding a husband out of town! But that was long", "So did my Dad.\"\n\nAnd, as Virginia Adams was that trio's third part; and as Sarah and\nDoris had always known Nina Adams' strong will; and as,--Oh, hum! It\nwas a happy fascination until adult minds got hold of it!\n\n\nXXIX\n\n\nGadsby was walking back from a visit down in Branton Hills'\nmanufacturing district on a Saturday night. A busy day's traffic had\nhad its noisy run; and with not many folks in sight, His Honor got\nalong without having to stop to grasp", "own family.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n\nI think that now you should know this charming Gadsby family; so I will\nbring forth Lady Gadsby, about whom I told you at Gadsby's inauguration\nas Mayor; a loyal church woman with a vocal ability for choir work;\nand, with good capability on piano or organ, no woman could \"fill in\"\nin so many ways; and no woman was so willing, and quick to do so.\nGadsby had two sons; bright lads and popular with all. Julius was of\na stud", ", Gadsby, humming\nhappily, found Sarah and Lucy, Nancy and Kathlyn amidst a roomful of\ngirls doing dainty fancy-work. And what astonishing ability most of\nthat group _did_ show! Nancy bought a baby-cap which was on a par with\nanything in Branton Hills' shops; and though Kathlyn said it was \"just\ntoo cunning for anything\", John Smith's bungalow didn't contain anybody\n(just now!) whom it would fit.\n\nBut Lady Gadsby, with a party of Branton", "good opportunity for oratory, as thousands,\nout for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with\nplaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's\ngood points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any\npoint at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how\nthis man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for\nimproving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown\nup from an", "a youthful motorist, waiting dutifully at\na curb, thought that a full family history of both host and visitor was\nup for an airing. But old folks always _will_ talk and it will not do a\nboy or girl any harm to wait; for, you know, that boy or girl will act\nin just that way, at a not too far-off day!\n\nBut, popular as this touring plan was, it had to stop; for school\nagain took all young folks from such out-door activity. Nobody was so\nsorry at this as Gadsby", "William Gadsby, do you...?\"\n\nWilliam, but shortly back from abroad, you know, standing with grand,\nmilitary rigidity, said:\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"And Lucy Donaldson, do you...?\"\n\nIt didn't last long. Just a word or two; a burst of music of a famous\nmarch by John Smith, Branton Hills' organist, in that cabin with a\nsmall piano; just a---- But that crowd couldn't wait for that! With a\nwhoop His Honor sprang into that pond, wading", "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "oil lamps, ash trays, and gaudy\nstrings of tiny crystal balls for adorning party gowns. And did Nancy\nwant to buy out this shop? And did Frank doubt his ability to do so?\nAnd did Kathlyn ask: \"How about it, Johnny?\" and did John Smith say:\n\"Nothing doing\"? It was just that. But it only shows that good old\nBranton Hills' inclination for aiding anything which looks worthy; and\nsuch a school I know you will admit, looks that way.\n\nTramping upstairs, still again, Gadsby", "grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without\na lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,\nmany who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash\nfor lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But\nall such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;\nthough an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk\nthat \"municipal graft\" was against him.\n\nNow Gadsby was vigorously against graft;", "Gadsby, folding his \"Post\" into a narrow column, and handing it to that\nwaiting lady, said nothing. As that good woman saw that paragraph,\nGadsby saw first a gasp, following that, a grin, and finally:--\n\n\"_Why!_ Of all things! So _that's_ Nina--\"\n\nThat row of print said, simply:--\n\n\"By Pastor Brown, on Saturday night, in Pastor's study, Nina Adams and\nCouncilman Simpkins.\"\n\n\"Why!\" said Lady Gadsby", "until, finally, a brilliant plan took form as John\nGadsby found Branton Hills' High School pupils waking up to Branton\nHills' sloth. Gadsby continually found this bright young bunch asking:--\n\n\"Aw! Why is this town so slow? It's nothing but a dry twig!!\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Gadsby; \"A dry twig! That's it! Many a living, blossoming\nbranch all around us, and this solitary dry twig, with a tag hanging\nfrom it, on which you will find", "ruining\nour paving,\" Gadsby thought that was but small talk, for paving,\nanyway, can't last for long. But, that _is_ a glorious spot, way out\namongst our hills!\n\nGadsby took his party to a room in City Hall from which that burning\nfactory was in plain sight; and as Nancy and Kathlyn stood watching\nthat awful sight a big wall, crashing down, had a crowd rushing to that\nspot.\n\nA man's form was brought out to a patrol wagon; and a boy, rushing\np", "s night finally cast its soft shadows on Branton\nHills. Night, with its twinkling stars, its lightning-bugs, and its\ncall for girls' most glorious wraps; and youths' \"swallowtails\", and\ntall silk hats,--is Cupid's own; lacking but organ music to turn it\ninto Utopia.\n\nAnd was Gadsby's mansion lit up from porch to roof? No. Only that\nparlor and a room or two upstairs, for wraps, mascara, a final\nhair-qu", "of Branton Hills saw his\ncar racing hospitalwards, with Lady Gadsby fondly patting Nancy's\ntiny, cold hands, and saying just such loving things as a woman would,\nnaturally, to a young girl on such a trip. But Gadsby and Frank? Ah!\nPoor, half-crazy things! No car would do at all! _No, sir!!_ A car\nwas far too slow! And so, across lots, down into many a man's yard,\nand jumping high walls, shot two shadowy forms, arriving at that big\nh", "back\nfrom many a visit to a _city_, and noting its ability in improving its\nliving conditions. So Gadsby thought of thus carrying an inkling to\nsuch capitalists as to how this stagnating town could claim a big spot\nupon our national map, which is now shown only in small, insignificant\nprint.\n\nAs a start, Branton Hills' \"Daily Post\" would carry a long story,\noutlining a list of factors for improving conditions. This it did; but\nit will always stay as a blot upon high minds and proud blood that", "would show upon it. A star for\nBill; a star for Julius. Ah, Bill! Branton Hills' fop! Bill Gadsby now\nin an ill-fitting and un-stylish khaki uniform.\n\nGadby's mansion had no brilliant night lights, now; just his parlor\nlamp and a small light or two in hallways or on stairways. Only our\nMayor and his Lady, now worrying, worrying, worrying; but both of good,\nstaunch old Colonial stock; and \"carrying on\" with good old Ply", ",\nwho has 'grown up in a night,' stopping, and saying: 'Mayor Gadsby,\nthis is my husband.' But I'll say that Cupid's markmanship has always\nbrought about happy matings. And, Mary, you darling kid, your sad, dark\nshadows will gradually pass; and Lady Gadsby and I will try to bring\nyou loads and loads of comfort. But, say, you, Julius! I didn't know\nthat you and Mary----\"\n\n\"Ho, ho\" said Mary, laughing. \"Did" ], [ "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "actory conditions.\n\nSo this small town of Branton Hills was lazily snoozing amidst\nup-and-doing towns, as Youth's Champion, John Gadsby, took hold of it;\nand shook its dawdling, flabby body until its inhabitants thought a\ntornado had struck it. Call it tornado, volcano, military onslaught,\nor what you will, this town found that it had a bunch of kids who had\nwills that would admit of no snoozing; for that is Youth, on its\nforward", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did", ", as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a _young_\ncrowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its\n\"why-not-do-it-now?\" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big\nMunicipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built),\nMarian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:--\n\n\"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.\"\n\n\"Balloon? Balloon", "quickly!_ Say that I want your Captain\nto notify my folks that Lillian is all right.\"\n\n\"Good gosh, Your Honor!! Is this tot your grandchild?\"\n\n\"Grandchild or no grandchild, _you dash to that box!!_\"\n\nAnd so, again, John Gadsby, Champion of Youth, had shown officialdom\nthat a child's brain and that of an adult vary as do a gigantic oak and\nits tiny acorn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\n\nMost of Gadsby's old Organization of Youth was", "that though a growing\nyoung man might know a thing or two, making laws for a city was a man's\njob.\n\nSo, with a Mayoralty campaign on his hands, plus planning for that big\nauditorium, Gadsby was as busy as a fly around a syrup jug; for a mass\nof campaign mail had to go out; topics for orations thought up; and\ncontacts with his now truly important Organization of Youth, took so\nmany hours out of his days that his family hardly saw him, at all. Noon\nnaturally stood out as a", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you", "until, finally, a brilliant plan took form as John\nGadsby found Branton Hills' High School pupils waking up to Branton\nHills' sloth. Gadsby continually found this bright young bunch asking:--\n\n\"Aw! Why is this town so slow? It's nothing but a dry twig!!\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Gadsby; \"A dry twig! That's it! Many a living, blossoming\nbranch all around us, and this solitary dry twig, with a tag hanging\nfrom it, on which you will find", "you think is hit? Try to think of a lot of girls in\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth. No, it's not Sarah Young, nor Lucy\nDonaldson, nor Virginia Adams. It was brought to your historian in this\nway:--\n\nLady Gadsby and His Honor sat around his parlor lamp, His Honor\nnoticing that Lady G. was smiling, finally saying:--\n\n\"John.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh.\"\n\n\"Kathlyn and John Smith,----\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I said that Kathlyn", "a night school was a good thing; but four,\nwith a faint glow of financial wisdom, (a rarity in politics, today!)\nsaw no cash in sight for such an institution.\n\nBut Gadsby's famous Organization won again! Branton Hills did not\ncontain a family in which this Organization wasn't known; and many a\nsock was brought out from hiding, and many a sofa pillow cut into, to\naid _any_ plan in which this group had a part.\n\nBut, just as funds had grown to what Mayor Gadsby thought would fill\nall such", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", ", about which said city or town has\nnothing to say. It is that most important institution in which you put\na stamp on your mail and drop it into a slot, knowing that it will find\nits way across city or country to that man or woman who is waiting for\nit.\n\nBut how many young folks know _how_ this mail is put out so quickly,\nand with such guaranty against loss? Not many, I think, if you ask.\nSo Gadsby, holding up Youth as a Nation's most important function in\nits coming history, thought that any act", "s just grand; but what will Papa say?\"\n\nNow Gadsby had known Lucy's family from boyhood, so said:--\n\n\"You inform your dad that at any sign of balking by him, I'll put HIM\nin Lucy Zoo, and pay a boy to prod him with a sharp stick, until his\napproval is in my hands.\" This brought such a rollicking laugh that a\nman mowing City Hall lawn had to laugh, too.\n\nNow, (Ah! But I can't avoid saying it!) our Organization was out again;", ", City Councilman,\" would\nshow an anxiously waiting world how to run a city; though probably, I\nthink, how _not_ to run it.\n\nIt is truly surprising what a narrow mind, what a blind outlook a man,\nbrought up with practically no opposition to his boyhood wants, can\nattain; though brought into contact with indisputably important data\nfor improving his city. Our Organization boys thought Bill \"a bit off;\"\nbut Gadsby would only laugh at his blasts against paying out city\nfunds; for, you know, all bombs don'", "location, so it\nwas finally built, on high land, with a charming vista across Branton\nHills' suburbs and distant hills; amongst which Gadsby's charity auto\nand bus trips took so many happy invalids on past hot days.\n\nNow it is only fair that our boys and girls of this famous Organization\nof Youth, should walk forward for an introduction to you. So I will\nbring forth such bright and loyal girls as Doris Johnson, Dorothy\nFitts, Lucy Donaldson, Marian Hopkins, Priscilla Standish, Abigail\nWor", "a grand thing; and Gadsby not only stood up for such\nloyalty, but got at his boys to find a similar plan; and soon had a\nfull troop of Boy Scouts; uniforms and all. This automatically brought\nabout a Girl Scout unit; and, through a collaboration of both, a form\nof club sprang up. It was a club in which any boy or girl of a family\nowning a car would call mornings for pupils having no cars, during\nschool days, for a trip to school and back. This was not only a saving\nin long", "a youthful motorist, waiting dutifully at\na curb, thought that a full family history of both host and visitor was\nup for an airing. But old folks always _will_ talk and it will not do a\nboy or girl any harm to wait; for, you know, that boy or girl will act\nin just that way, at a not too far-off day!\n\nBut, popular as this touring plan was, it had to stop; for school\nagain took all young folks from such out-door activity. Nobody was so\nsorry at this as Gadsby" ], [ "Gadsby thrill? Did that long-past, happy day\nfloat in glowing colors through his mind? It did. And now that old,\nhard-working bunch of kids, grown up, now, and with kids of its own;\nthat loyal bunch of young sprouts was taking root; was born again!\n\nOh, _how_ Youth crawls up on you! How a tiny girl \"almost instantly\"\nshoots up into a tall, charming young woman! _How_ a top-spinning,\nball-tossing, racing, shouting boy looms up", "ddlings; for adult minds to pilot it around many pitfalls;\nand onward, _onward!!_ To a shining goal!!\" and Nancy's crown of rich\nbrown hair sank lovingly in Gadsby's lap.\n\nDuring this outburst Gadsby had sat dumb; but finally saying, proudly:--\n\n\"So, ho! My baby girl has grown up! Dolls and sand-digging tools\ndon't call, as of old. And small, dirty paws, and a tiny smudgy chin,\ntransform, almost in", "\nGadsby said not a word; slowly strolling down a path amidst thousands\nof gladioli; around a turn, and up a path, along which stood pots and\npots of fuchsias, salvias and cannas; and to a cross-path, down which\nwas a big flat pansy patch, tubs of blossoming lilacs, and stiff,\nstraight carnations. Not a word from Gadsby, for his mind was on that\nsmall bunch of rapturous joy just in front of him. But, finally, just\n", "'s part of it. God's parlor is awfully big, you know.\"\n\n\"_My_ parlor is awfully _small_; and not any bloss---- Oh! Wouldn't\nGod----?\"\n\nGadsby's hunch was now working, full tilt; and so, as this loving\nfamily man, having had four kids of his own, and this tot from a poor\nfamily with its \"awfully small\" parlor,--had trod this big glass\nbuilding's paths again and again; round and round, an almost monstrous\ns", "So did my Dad.\"\n\nAnd, as Virginia Adams was that trio's third part; and as Sarah and\nDoris had always known Nina Adams' strong will; and as,--Oh, hum! It\nwas a happy fascination until adult minds got hold of it!\n\n\nXXIX\n\n\nGadsby was walking back from a visit down in Branton Hills'\nmanufacturing district on a Saturday night. A busy day's traffic had\nhad its noisy run; and with not many folks in sight, His Honor got\nalong without having to stop to grasp", "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "is singing!_\n Aha, _now_ I know\n That Nancy and Kathlyn\n And Julius and Bill\n And also His Honor,\n Will sing with a will!\n And Old Doctor Wilkins\n Amidst it all stands;\n Smiling and nodding,\n And rubbing his hands;\n And, sliding out, slyly;\n Calls back at that sight:--\n \"Happy Christmas to all;\n And to all a Good Night!\"\n\nAlong about midnight a happy group sat around Gadsby'", "and so, up\nalmost to Thanksgiving, this big coach ran daily.\n\nAs Spring got around again, this \"man-of-all-work\" thought of driving\naway a shut-in invalid's monotony by having musicians go to such rooms,\nto play; or, by taking along a vocalist or trio, sing such old songs\nas always bring back happy days. This work Gadsby thought of paying\nfor by putting on a circus. And _was_ it a circus? _It was!!_ It had\nboys forming both front and hind lim", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "with this childish\ninstability of thought, this tiny miss ran up onto Gadsby's porch and\nstood in front of Old Bill, looking up at him, but saying not a word.\n\n\"Huh!\" Bill just _had_ to snort. \"Looking at anything?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"_What!!_ Oh, that is, you think 'not much,' probably. What do you\nwant, anyway?\"\n\n\"I want to play.\"\n\n\"All right; run along and play.\"\n\n\"No; I want to play with _", ", as this girl, as\nbadly blown as Lucy was in asking for a zoo, ran up, calling out:--\n\n\"I GOT IT!! I GOT IT!!\"\n\n\"Got what? A fit?\"\n\n\"No! I got that final four thousand dollars! It's from Lady Standish,\nwho says that way back in school days, you and----\"\n\n\"Whoa!! That was back in _history!_\" but Gadsby was blushing, and Sarah\nwas winking, coyly.\n\nNow Gadsby was as fond", "to pat, tiny lips to kiss, and\na tiny, warm, wriggling body to hug, Man would know nothing but work.\"\n\nGadsby sat smoking for a bit, finally saying:--\n\n\"Darling, that pair of robins up in that big oak with four young, and\nyou and I in this big building, also with four, know all about what\nyou just said; and, and,--hmmm! It's almost midnight.\" And His Honor's\nmansion was soon dark; bathing in soft moonlight.\n\n\n\n\nXX", "a youthful motorist, waiting dutifully at\na curb, thought that a full family history of both host and visitor was\nup for an airing. But old folks always _will_ talk and it will not do a\nboy or girl any harm to wait; for, you know, that boy or girl will act\nin just that way, at a not too far-off day!\n\nBut, popular as this touring plan was, it had to stop; for school\nagain took all young folks from such out-door activity. Nobody was so\nsorry at this as Gadsby", "Oh, if a man would only think of his offspring having to carry on,\nlong past his last day! And of how hard it is for a boy or girl to\nstand up and proudly (?) claim that so-and-so 'was my Dad,' if all\nBranton Hills knows of that Dad's inglorious past. Poor kids!\" for\nyou know that Gadsby said, in this story's start, that \"a man should\nso carry on his daily affairs as to bring no word of admonition from\nanybody;\" for a man's doings should", "grow up in a night; nor was a spot upon which to put it found without\na lot of agitation; many wanting it in a down-town district; and also,\nmany who had vacant land put forth all sorts of claims to obtain cash\nfor lots upon which a big tax was paid annually, without profits. But\nall such things automatically turn out satisfactorily to a majority;\nthough an ugly, grasping landlord who lost out, would viciously squawk\nthat \"municipal graft\" was against him.\n\nNow Gadsby was vigorously against graft;", "and workmanship! And what bright,\nhappy pupils, standing proudly back of it! For mankind knows hardly a\njoy which will surpass that of approval of his work.\n\nGadsby's party first took in a wood-working shop; finding small stands\nwhich fit so happily into many a living room nook; book racks for walls\nor floor; moth-proof bins, smoking stands, many with fancy uprights\nor inlaid tops; high chairs for tiny tots; arm chairs for old folks;\ncribs, tobacco humidors,", "as all was in condition Gadsby\ntold Marian to stand up. This brought that vast crowd up, also; and\nGadsby said:--\n\n\"Now hold your wand way up high, and swing it, to signal Harold to\nstart.\"\n\nUp shot a tiny arm; and Harold, watching from his cockpit, sang\nout:--\"CONTACT!!\"\n\nA vigorous twist of his ship's gigantic \"fan\" a shout, a roar, a whizz,\na mighty cloud of dust, and amid a tornado of clapping, sh", ",\nwho has 'grown up in a night,' stopping, and saying: 'Mayor Gadsby,\nthis is my husband.' But I'll say that Cupid's markmanship has always\nbrought about happy matings. And, Mary, you darling kid, your sad, dark\nshadows will gradually pass; and Lady Gadsby and I will try to bring\nyou loads and loads of comfort. But, say, you, Julius! I didn't know\nthat you and Mary----\"\n\n\"Ho, ho\" said Mary, laughing. \"Did", "good laugh. Start a man\nlaughing, good, long and loud, and his mind's grimy windows will slowly\ninch upward; snappy, invigorating air will rush in, and--lo! that old\nsnarling, ugly grouch will vanish as hoar-frost in a warm Spring thaw!\n\nAnd so it got around, on a bright Spring day, to Old Bill sitting on\nGadsby's front porch; outwardly calm, and smoking a good cigar (which\ndidn't blow up!), but, inward" ], [ "'s mansion, was soon far, far back.\nA robin or two was hopping about on His Honor's lawn, looking for a\nsquirming lunch; Lady was taking short walks with Nancy; Kathlyn having\nto go back to work in our big hospital. Lilac, syringa, narcissus,\ntulips, hyacinths burst out in a riot of bloom; and a bright warm Sun\nbrought joy to all. And so this history found His Honor on his porch\nwith his \"Post\" as a young lad, coming up,", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", ", sang out:--\n\n\"Say!! If this scrap stops, and a _big_ war starts,--_Aha_, boy! You\njust watch Allan Banks! Son of Councilman Banks!!\" and a small fist was\npounding viciously on an also small bosom.\n\n\"By golly!\" said Gadsby, walking away, \"that's Tomorrow talking!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo now this history will drift along; along through days and months;\ndays and months of that awful gnawing", "Natural History,\nand how its staff is praying for him; Nancy's radio shut down _tight_,\nfor so much as a thought of Station KBH was as a thrust of a sword.\nDays. Days. Days of shouting orators, blaring bands, troops from far\naway pausing at our big railway station, as girls, going through long\ntrains of cars, took doughnuts and hot drinks. In Gadsby's parlor\nwindow hung that famous \"World War flag\" of nothing but stars; nobody\nknowing at what instant a _gold_ star", "boss,\" I think it will\npass in this oddly built-up story. Now I am going to boost our famous\nOrganization again, by stating that a boy from its ranks, Frank Morgan,\nwas put in; for it was a hobby of Gadsby to put Branton Hills boys in\nBranton Hills Municipal jobs. So Frank, right away, got all sorts of\ncalls for hours or half hours to broadcast \"most astounding bargains\"\nin clothing, salad oils, motor oils, motor \"gas\", soaps, cars, and\ntooth brush lubric", "Nancy; tiny, darling Nancy, his baby girl. For,\nduring that noisy carnival, folks saw (or _thought_ so, you know), a\nbig bird with long shanks and a monstrous bill, circling round and\nround that small bungalow's roof, plainly looking for a spot to land\non. Lady Gadsby and old Doctor Wilkins saw it, too, and told Nancy that\nthat big hospital which our old Organization had built, was holding\na room for instant occupancy; and, as that big bird daily swung down", "visitors; and visitors, you know, _might_ turn into\ninhabitants! And so things finally got around to Inauguration Day; and,\nknowing that no kid could sit still in school on such an occasion, it\nwas put down for a Saturday; and, so many happy, shouting, hopping,\njumping kids stood waiting for His Honor to cut a satin ribbon in front\nof Sarah Young's Rainbow Arch, that grown folks had to wait, four\nblocks back. As Gadsby was roaming around with Lucy, to find if things\nshould", "up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,\ncan only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't\nshow up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our\nCapitol building at Washington.\n\nBut why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply\nbrought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across\ncountry; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such\na trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,", "about is uniforms, pay, transportation,\narmy corps, divisions, naval squadrons, and so on.\"\n\nAn occasional Branton Hills politician thought that it \"might blow out\nin a month or two;\" but your Historian knows that it didn't; all of\nthat \"blowing\" consisting of blasts from that military clarion, calling\nfor mobilization.\n\n * * * * *\n\nDays! Days! Days! Finally, on May Fourth, that day of tiny Nancy's big\nchurch ritual, you know; that day,", "ist who knows about\nsuch things would out-talk you without half trying. No, darling, this\npolitical stuff is too big for you. You just look out for things in\nthat small bungalow of yours, and allow Branton Hills to fight to put\nBill in. You know my old slogan:--'Man at a city's front; woman at a\ncabin door.'\"\n\nAnd Nancy, fondly stroking his hand, said:\n\n\"Man at a city's front! What a grand post for a man! A city, a big,\n", "aglow that night, that \"World War\nflag\" not hanging in his window now. And so, on Labor Day night, Lady\nGadsby and His Honor, sitting in his parlor, thought that a light\nfootfall was sounding out on his porch. As Gadsby got up to find\nout about it, Julius, coming in with a young girl, stood looking,\ngrinningly, at Lady Gadsby; who, jumping up, said, happily:--\n\n\"Why! Mary Antor!!\"\n\n\"No, Ma,\" said Julius. \"This", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "against aircraft; oil lamps against arc lights!\nSlow, mail information against radio! But, as all this stuff is laid\nout, what will you do with it? Nobody wants it. So I say, burn it, and\ntomorrow morning, how happy you will find that musty old mind!\"\n\nBut His Honor's mansion finally got back to normal as clouds of dust\nand swats and slaps from dusting cloths had shown Lady Gadsby and\nKathlyn that \"that parlor was simply awful\" though Gadsby, Julius and\nBill always had thought", "ms; and so\ntwist a thought around as to say what I wish with as much clarity as I\ncan.)\n\nSo, now to go on with this odd contraption:\n\nBy Autumn, a man who took his vacation in July, would hardly know his\ntown upon coming back, so thoroughly had thousands \"dug in\" to aid in\nits transformation.\n\n\"Boys,\" said Gadsby, \"you can pat your own backs, if you can't find\nanybody to do it for you. This city is proud of you. And, girls, just\nsing", "-f-f-f B-b-b-barnum's circus hits town, you must join its\ncl-cl-clown band!\"\n\nBut I had to rush this happy party out of that building, as an awful\nthing was occurring but a block from it; which told its own story by\na lurid light, flashing through windows; clanging gongs, shrilling\nhorns and running, shouting crowds; for an old, long-vacant factory\nbuilding just across from City Hall, was blazing furiously. Rushing\nalong Broadway was", "'s so. Girls do fuss about dolls. My girls did.\"\n\n\"How many dolls has your girls got?\"\n\n\"Ha, ha! Not any, now. My girls all got grown up and big.\"\n\nDuring this calm, happy talk, a patrolman, coming up, said:--\n\n\"Shall I stick around, Your Honor? Any kidnapping facts?\"\n\n\"I don't know, just now. Wait around about an hour, and drop in again.\"\n\nSo His Honor, Mayor of Branton Hills, and Childhood sat on that grass", "\n\"That will do, Miss Adams.\"\n\nDuring this, Nina was glaring at Norman; but Virginia's bringing\nAllison into it, also, was too much. But Wilkins, watching narrowly,\nsaid, snappingly:--\n\n\"_Nina!_ This is a _court room_.\"\n\nNow this trial was too long to go into, word for word; so I'll say\nthat not only Norman Antor and Allison, but also our big, pompous\nCouncilman Antor, according to our popular slang, \"got", "ically calls to a burning\nbuilding--Company Four, in our big shopping district; all apparatus of\nwhich was still animal drawn; four big, husky chaps: two blacks and\ntwo roans. Any thought of backing in any sort of motor apparatus onto\nthis floor, upon which this loyal four had, during many months, stood,\nchamping at bits, pawing and whinnying to start out that big door, in\ndaylight or night-gloom, calm or storm,--was mighty tough for old Dowd\nand Clancy. A man living day", "ballot\nagainst him; and Bill would hold that honor now, but for 'Old Glory's'\ncalling.\"\n\nThat's right, Nancy darling, you stick up for Bill; for, though\nBill didn't know it until many months, a citation \"for outstanding\nand valorous conduct in action\" was soon to go through our National\nPrinting Plant! For a \"city fop\" or an \"outdoor part of a tailor shop\"\nis not always a boob, you know.\n\nGadsby's mansion was again brightly", "OR;\" and a campaign was on which\nstill rings in Branton Hills' history as \"hot stuff!\" Four aspiring\npoliticians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby\nonly his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy\nfor him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or\nhastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that\n\"our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if _I_ am not its\nMayor!\" But our Organization now took" ], [ "water. And I received one most scathing epistle from a\nlady (woman!) denouncing me as a \"genuine fake;\" (that paradox being\na most interesting one!), and ending by saying:--\"Everyone knows\nthat such a feat is impossible.\" All right. Then the impossible has\nbeen accomplished; (a paradox to equal hers!) Other criticism may be\ndirected at the Introduction; but this section of a story _also_ is not\npart of it. The author is entitled to it, in order properly to explain\nhis work. The story", "desk, all eagerly expecting to be\ncalled upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without\neven noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings\namongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen, looking down\nconstantly for a chance to drop off into some word; for all the world\nlike sea-birds perched, watching for a passing fish! But when they saw\nthat I had covered 138 pages of typewriter size paper, they slid off\nonto the floor, walking sadly away, arm in arm; but", "required five and a half months of concentrated\nendeavor, with so many erasures and retrenchments that I tremble as\nI think of them. Of course anybody can write such a story. All that\nis needed is a piece of string tied from the E type-bar down to some\npart of the base of the typewriter. Then simply go ahead and type your\nstory. Incidentally, you should have some sort of a bromide preparation\nhandy, for use when the going gets rough, as it most assuredly will!\n\nBefore the book was in print, I was freely and", "--\n\n\"Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as\nbig as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you\nsaw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an\ninquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which\nyou first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking\na small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at\nour Night", "shouting back: \"You\ncertainly must have a hodge-podge of a yarn there without _Us!_ Why,\nman! We are in every story ever written, _hundreds of thousands of\ntimes!_ This is the first time we ever were shut out!\"\n\nPronouns also caused trouble; for such words as he, she, they, them,\ntheirs, her, herself, myself, himself, yourself, etc., could not be\nutilized. But a particularly annoying obstacle comes when, almost\nthrough a long paragraph you can find no words with which to", "continue\nthat line of thought; hence, as in Solitaire, you are \"stuck,\" and must\ngo way back and start another; which, of course, must perfectly fit the\npreceding context.\n\nI have received some extremely odd criticisms since the Associated\nPress widely announced that such a book was being written. A\nrapid-talking New York newspaper columnist wanted to know how I would\nget over the plain fact that my name contains the letter E three times.\nAs an author's name is _not_ a part of his story, that criticism\ndid not hold", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "was chasing that car in from our\nsuburbs, says both horribly drunk, Antor grazing four cars, Madam\nshouting and singing wildly, with Grant arriving too tardily to ward\noff that final crash.'\"\n\nNow Lady Gadsby was, first of all, a woman; and so got up quickly,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Oh!! I must go down to poor young Mary, _right off!_\" and Gadsby sat\ntapping his foot, saying:--\n\n\"So Antor's pantry probably still holds that stuff. Too bad", "this history shows that that mouthy\nantagonist who had had so much to say about \"pink satin ribbons\" and\n\"vanilla sprays,\" didn't win. No. A first class man got that position;\nold Tom Young, Sarah's Dad, as good an old soul as any in all Branton\nHills. And was Sarah happy! Oh, my! And was Sarah proud! Two \"oh, mys!\"\nTiny Nancy, loyal as always to Bill, said:--\n\n\"Bill was as good as in, for nobody, knowing my Bill would", ",\ndown, down, almost grazing that small roof, Frank, poor chap, as shaky\nas at his church ritual, thirty months ago, staid away from Radio\nStation KBH, and stuck to that small bungalow as a fly sticks around a\nsugar bowl.\n\nFinally, on a crisp Autumn night, that soaring bird shot straight down\nwith such an assuring swoop, that old Doc Wilkins, indoors with Nancy,\nsaw it and said, quickly:--\n\n\"On your way, Nancy girl!!\" and that part", "openly informed \"there\nis a trick, or catch,\" somewhere in that claim that there is not one\nletter E in the entire book, after you leave the Introduction. Well; it\nis the privilege of the reader to unearth any such deception that he\nor she may think they can find. I have even ordered the printer not to\nhead each chapter with the words \"Chapter 2,\" etc., on account of that\nbothersome E in that word.\n\nIn closing let me say that I trust you may learn to love all the young\nfolks in the story, as deeply as I", "hungry child was oblivious to all around him. And I'll say\nthat our boys, in row four, had lumpy throats. But finally that big\nkindly man said:--\n\n\"Though taking things unlawfully is wrong, conditions can occur in\nwhich so young a culprit is not at fault. This young chap has had no\nbringing up, but has run wild. A child will not know right from wrong\nif not taught; and, as it is a primary animal instinct to obtain food\nin any way, I will simply put this boy in a school which", "up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,\ncan only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't\nshow up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our\nCapitol building at Washington.\n\nBut why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply\nbrought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across\ncountry; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such\na trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,", ", giggling, said:--\n\n\"I put up a dollar, with Lucy's dollar-fifty that it's a woman.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know, now,\" said Nina. \"A man isn't always trotting around\non a woman's apron strings,\" and, as it was growing dark, Nina and\nVirginia got up to go.\n\nPassing down Gadsby's front walk, a soft night wind brought back to\nthat porch:--\n\n\"Now, Virginia, _quit_ this! You will", "\nkindly man, thoughtfully rubbing his chin, said:--\n\n\"Whom did your Dad rob?\"\n\n\"I dunno. It was a Ford car. Nobody wasn't in it, so why not grab it?\nThat's what Dad said. You can pick up a bit of cash for a car, you\nknow, boss. And say, if a car brung only six months, how long will I\nsquat in jail for swiping this half bun? Aw! Go slow, boss! I ain't no\nbad kid! Only just a hungry", "boss,\" I think it will\npass in this oddly built-up story. Now I am going to boost our famous\nOrganization again, by stating that a boy from its ranks, Frank Morgan,\nwas put in; for it was a hobby of Gadsby to put Branton Hills boys in\nBranton Hills Municipal jobs. So Frank, right away, got all sorts of\ncalls for hours or half hours to broadcast \"most astounding bargains\"\nin clothing, salad oils, motor oils, motor \"gas\", soaps, cars, and\ntooth brush lubric", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"", "have, in introducing them to you.\nLike many a book, it grows more and more interesting as the reader\nbecomes well acquainted with the characters.\n\n Los Angeles, California\n February, 1939\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n\nIf Youth, throughout all history, had had a champion to stand up for\nit; to show a doubting world that a child can think; and, possibly,\ndo it practically; you wouldn't constantly run across folks today\nwho claim that \"a child don't know anything.\" A child's brain starts\nfunctioning", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "ms; and so\ntwist a thought around as to say what I wish with as much clarity as I\ncan.)\n\nSo, now to go on with this odd contraption:\n\nBy Autumn, a man who took his vacation in July, would hardly know his\ntown upon coming back, so thoroughly had thousands \"dug in\" to aid in\nits transformation.\n\n\"Boys,\" said Gadsby, \"you can pat your own backs, if you can't find\nanybody to do it for you. This city is proud of you. And, girls, just\nsing" ], [ "in Branton Hills' schools; for schooling, according to\nhim, did not consist only of books and black-boards. Hands also should\nknow how to construct various practical things in woodwork, plumbing,\nblacksmithing, masonry, and so forth; with thorough instruction\nin sanitation, and that most important of all youthful activity,\ngymnastics. For girls such a school could instruct in cooking, suit\nmaking, hat making, fancy work, art and loom-work; in fact, about any\nhandicraft that a girl might wish to study,", "Branton Hills\nmaintains for just such youths.\"\n\nAt this both row two and row four burst out in such a storm of\nhand-clapping that Gadsby found that this visit had shown his young\nfolks, from actual contact with a child without training, how important\nchild-raising is; and how proud a city is of such as act according to\nlaw.\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\n\nIn almost any big town, around Autumn, you will annually run across\nthat famous agricultural show known as a County Fair; and, as Branton\nHills had", "out as Branton Hills had known in all its history. Up at City\nHall awaiting arrivals of city officials, a big crowd sat; row upon\nrow of chairs which not only took up all floor room, but also many a\nsmall spot, in door-way or on a balcony in which a chair or stool could\nfind footing; and all who could not find such an opportunity willingly\nstood in back. Just as a group of officials sat down on that flag-bound\nplatform, distant throbbing of drums, and bright, snappy band music\ntold of Branton Hills", "\nour way of doing things. So, to say that many a Branton Hills \"King of\nCapital\" got a bit huffy as a High School stripling was proving how\nstubborn a rich man is if his dollars don't aid so vast an opportunity\nfor doing good, would put it mildly! Such downright _gall_ by a\nhalf-grown kid to inform _him_; an outstanding light on Branton Hills'\ntax list, that this town was sliding down hill; and would soon land\nin an abyss of national oblivion! And our Organization girls", "of Branton Hills saw his\ncar racing hospitalwards, with Lady Gadsby fondly patting Nancy's\ntiny, cold hands, and saying just such loving things as a woman would,\nnaturally, to a young girl on such a trip. But Gadsby and Frank? Ah!\nPoor, half-crazy things! No car would do at all! _No, sir!!_ A car\nwas far too slow! And so, across lots, down into many a man's yard,\nand jumping high walls, shot two shadowy forms, arriving at that big\nh", "outs, and\nband music, Branton Hills was put on aviation's map. Way, way up, so\nfar as to look as small as a toy, Harold put on a show of banking,\nrolling and diving, which told Gadsby that, still again, had Branton\nHills found profit in what its Organization of Youth, _and, now, its\nsmall kids_, had to say about improving a town.\n\nDuring that box-lunch picnic, many of our \"big girls\" brought so much\nfood to Marian that Dad and Ma had to stand guard against", "who had\ngot it through Branton Hills' popular ballot. Now, any politician is a\nconvincing orator. (That is, you know, all that politics consists of!);\nand this big man, in contact with a visiting capitalist, looking for a\nhandout for his own district, got a donation of a thousand dollars. But\nthat wouldn't _start_ a public library; to say nothing of maintaining\nit. So, back in Branton Hills, again, our Organization was out, as\nusual, on its war-path.\n\nBranton Hills'", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "to Branton Hills, watching that darling\nMary in Salvation Army uniform, tramping, talking, praying for just\nsuch low-down \"liquor hounds\" as----.\n\nOh! It was an awful fight! A long, brain-racking onslaught against a\nvillain shut in by walls of iron! But though Norman Antor's night-camp\nfights with Norman Antor had \"put a big kick\" in his wish to \"lay off\nthat stuff,\" just a final blow, just an awful brain-crashing _blast_\n", "that trying to instill any such notions into a town's ruling body\nis about as satisfactory as butting against a brick wall. Such \"Boards\"\nas you find ruling many a small town, function from such a soporific\nrut that any hint of digging cash from its cast iron strong box with\nits big brass padlock, will fall upon minds as rigid as rock.\n\nBranton Hills _had_ such a man, to whom such rigidity was as annoying\nas a thorn in his foot. Continuous trials brought only continual\nthorn-pricks;", ", for though Branton Hills' suburban country is\nglorious from March to August, it is also strong in its attractions\nthroughout Autumn, with its artistic colorings of fruits, pumpkins,\ncorn-shocks, hay-stacks and Fall blossoms. So Gadsby got a big\nmotor-coach company to run a bus a day, carrying, gratis, all poor or\nsickly folks who had a doctor's affidavit that such an outing would aid\nin curing ills arising from too constant in-door living;", "until, finally, a brilliant plan took form as John\nGadsby found Branton Hills' High School pupils waking up to Branton\nHills' sloth. Gadsby continually found this bright young bunch asking:--\n\n\"Aw! Why is this town so slow? It's nothing but a dry twig!!\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Gadsby; \"A dry twig! That's it! Many a living, blossoming\nbranch all around us, and this solitary dry twig, with a tag hanging\nfrom it, on which you will find", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "ranton Hills' first aircraft. To Gadsby's joy, amongst that bunch was\nHarold Thompson, an old Organization lad, who was known around town as\na chap who could do about anything calling for brains. As an airport\nis not laid out in a day, Harold got busy with paid aviators and soon\nwas piloting a craft without aid; and not only Branton Hills folks, but\nold aviators, saw in Harold, a \"bird-man\" of no small ability. And so\ntiny Marian's \"vision\" was a fact; just as \"big girl\"", "\nfor Branton Hills folks, living for six days amidst bricks and asphalt,\njust _had_ to go out on Sundays to this dainty knoll, living for an\nhour or so amongst its birds, blossoms and calm surroundings. City\ntraffic was far away, only a faint rumbling coming to this natural\nsanctuary; and many a mind, and many a worn body had found a balm in\nits charms.\n\nBut that mystifying card! From whom was it? What was it? _Why_ was\nit? \"Oh, hum", "actory conditions.\n\nSo this small town of Branton Hills was lazily snoozing amidst\nup-and-doing towns, as Youth's Champion, John Gadsby, took hold of it;\nand shook its dawdling, flabby body until its inhabitants thought a\ntornado had struck it. Call it tornado, volcano, military onslaught,\nor what you will, this town found that it had a bunch of kids who had\nwills that would admit of no snoozing; for that is Youth, on its\nforward", "OR;\" and a campaign was on which\nstill rings in Branton Hills' history as \"hot stuff!\" Four aspiring\npoliticians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby\nonly his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy\nfor him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or\nhastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that\n\"our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if _I_ am not its\nMayor!\" But our Organization now took", "that old factory was but a mass of ruins now, and midnight was\napproaching, Gadsby's family was soon in that mythical Land of Nod, in\nwhich no horns blow, no sparks fall; only occasionally a soft gurgling\nfrom a crib in Nancy's bungalow.\n\n\n\n\nXIX\n\n\nIt is an odd kink of humanity which cannot find any valuation in\nspots of natural glory. But such kinks do run riot in Man's mind,\noccasionally, and Branton Hills ran up against", "XXII\n\n\nBut what about Branton Hills' municipal affairs, right now? In two\nmonths it was to ballot on who should sit in past-Councilman Antor's\nchair; and a campaign was on which was actually sizzling. And in\nwhat a contrast to our city's start! For it has grown rapidly;\nand, in comparison to that day upon which a thousand ballots was\na big out-pouring of popular clamor now many politicians had City\nHall aspirations. And _who_ do you think was running for Council,", "_forcing_ young girls to drink? And right in\nour glorious Branton Hills? Oh, but, Doc! This can't pass without a\ntrial!\"\n\n\"That's all right, John; but a thorn sticks out, right in plain sight.\"\n\n\"Thorn? Thorn? What kind of a thorn?\" and our Mayor was flushing hard,\nas no kind of wild thoughts would point to any kind of thorns.\n\n\"That thorn,\" said Wilkins, \"is young Norman Antor; son of----\"\n\n\"_Not" ], [ "ackling twig, at night. It is a city of _humans_; animals, if you\nwish, but with a gift from On High of a _brain_, so far apart from all\ndumb animals as to allow us to talk about our public affairs calmly and\nthoughtfully. All this Night School rumpus is foolish. Naturally, what\nis taught in such a school is an important factor; so I want to find\nout from our Organization----\"\n\nAt this point, old Bill Simpkins got up, with:\n\n\"This Organization of Youth stuff puts", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", "that ball-bat arm can curl around your tiny baby as softly\nas a down pillow. Aw, darling! _Don't_ say you can't do anything;\nfor _I_ know you can. How about our old Organization of Youth days?\nYou,----\"\n\nAnd Nancy, now laughing, said, gaily:--\n\n\"Oho! Our old Organization! What fun it was! But, Daddy, I don't know\nof any young crowd following us up.\"\n\n\"No. Our young folks of today think such things too much work;\" and,\nas", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", "of us; and I'm\njust going to _go_ to that child and try to bring a ray of comfort into\nthat young mind. That rum-guzzling Antor family!! _Ugh!!_\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nBut a city also has amusing sights; and our trio ran plump into that\nkind, just around a turn; for, standing on a soap box, shouting a\nhigh-sounding jargon of rapidly shot words, was Arthur Rankin, an\noriginal Organization lad; a crowd of boys, a", ", in voting for bright, vitalic Youth.)\n\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\n\nWidow Adams was sitting up again, for it was way past midnight,\nand Virginia was out. Many months ago Virginia was also out, and\nwas brought back, unconscious. So now Nina was again sitting up,\nfor Virginia was not a night-owl sort of a girl. Finally, around\ntwo o'clock, Nina couldn't stand it, and had to call in a passing\npatrolman. Now this patrolman was an original Organization of Youth\nboy, and had always known Nina", "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "swish across clouds and sky. Bands should play; boys and\ngirls march and sing; and a vast crowd would pour into City Hall. As on\nsimilar occasions, a bad rush for chairs was apt to occur, a company\nof military units should occupy all important points, to hold back\nanything simulating a jam.\n\nNow, if you think our Organization wasn't all agog and wild, with\nyouthful anticipation at having a diploma for work out of school\nhours, you just don't know Youth. Boys and girls, though not full\n", ", as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a _young_\ncrowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its\n\"why-not-do-it-now?\" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big\nMunicipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built),\nMarian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:--\n\n\"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.\"\n\n\"Balloon? Balloon", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", ", until a particularly bright\ngirl in our Organization, thought out a plan for caring for infants of\nfolks who had to go out, to work; and this bright kid soon had a group\nof girls who would join, during vacation, in voluntarily giving up four\ndays a month to such work. With about fifty girls collaborating, all\ndistricts had this most gracious aid; and a girl would not only watch\nand guard, but would also instruct, as far as practical, any such tot\nas had not had its first schooling. Such work by young girls still\nin school was", "to\nfix thot barn door our old cow laid down against.\"\n\nHa, ha! What a circus our Organization had with such varying moods and\noutlooks! But, finally such a school was built; instructors brought in\nfrom surrounding towns; and Gadsby was as happy as a cat with a ball of\nyarn.\n\nAs Branton Hills found out what it can accomplish if it starts out with\nvigor and a will to win, our Organization thought of laying out a big\npark; furnishing an opportunity for small tots to romp and play on\ngr", "location, so it\nwas finally built, on high land, with a charming vista across Branton\nHills' suburbs and distant hills; amongst which Gadsby's charity auto\nand bus trips took so many happy invalids on past hot days.\n\nNow it is only fair that our boys and girls of this famous Organization\nof Youth, should walk forward for an introduction to you. So I will\nbring forth such bright and loyal girls as Doris Johnson, Dorothy\nFitts, Lucy Donaldson, Marian Hopkins, Priscilla Standish, Abigail\nWor", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "; and \"Station KBH\" was born! Though it\nis not important to follow it from now on, I will say that our vast\ncountry, by tuning in on KBH, found out a lot about this Utopia.\n\n\"You know that good old yarn,\" said Gadsby, \"about making so good a\nrat-trap that millions will tramp down your grass in making a path to\nyour front door.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n\nNow don't think that our famous Organization, having shown its worth on\nso many occasions, sat down", "actory conditions.\n\nSo this small town of Branton Hills was lazily snoozing amidst\nup-and-doing towns, as Youth's Champion, John Gadsby, took hold of it;\nand shook its dawdling, flabby body until its inhabitants thought a\ntornado had struck it. Call it tornado, volcano, military onslaught,\nor what you will, this town found that it had a bunch of kids who had\nwills that would admit of no snoozing; for that is Youth, on its\nforward", "municipality\nwhich has won acclaim, not only from its officials and inhabitants,\nbut from surrounding towns I found, in our young folks, an out-and-out\ninclination to assist; and you, today, can look upon it as labor in\nwhich your adult aid was but a small factor. So now, my Organization of\nYouth, if you will pass across this platform, your Mayor will hand you\nyour diplomas.\"\n\nNot in all Branton Hills' history had any boy or girl known such a\nthrill as upon winning that hard-won roll! And from solid banks", ", about which said city or town has\nnothing to say. It is that most important institution in which you put\na stamp on your mail and drop it into a slot, knowing that it will find\nits way across city or country to that man or woman who is waiting for\nit.\n\nBut how many young folks know _how_ this mail is put out so quickly,\nand with such guaranty against loss? Not many, I think, if you ask.\nSo Gadsby, holding up Youth as a Nation's most important function in\nits coming history, thought that any act" ], [ "monotonous account, full of such\ncustomary \"fill-ins\" as \"romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down\na long, winding country road.\" Nor will it say anything about tinklings\nlulling distant folds; robins carolling at twilight, nor any \"warm glow\nof lamplight\" from a cabin window. No. It is an account of up-and-doing\nactivity; a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today; and a practical\ndiscarding of that worn-out notion that \"a child don'", "a great many difficulties. The greatest of\nthese is met in the past tense of verbs, almost all of which end\nwith \"--ed.\" Therefore substitutes must be found; and they are _very\nfew_. This will cause, at times, a somewhat monotonous use of such\nwords as \"said;\" for neither \"replied,\" \"answered\" nor \"asked\" can\nbe used. Another difficulty comes with the elimination of the common\ncouplet \"of course,\" and its very common connective, \"consequently;\"\nwhich will, unavoidably cause \"", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "desk, all eagerly expecting to be\ncalled upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without\neven noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings\namongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen, looking down\nconstantly for a chance to drop off into some word; for all the world\nlike sea-birds perched, watching for a passing fish! But when they saw\nthat I had covered 138 pages of typewriter size paper, they slid off\nonto the floor, walking sadly away, arm in arm; but", "required five and a half months of concentrated\nendeavor, with so many erasures and retrenchments that I tremble as\nI think of them. Of course anybody can write such a story. All that\nis needed is a piece of string tied from the E type-bar down to some\npart of the base of the typewriter. Then simply go ahead and type your\nstory. Incidentally, you should have some sort of a bromide preparation\nhandy, for use when the going gets rough, as it most assuredly will!\n\nBefore the book was in print, I was freely and", "shouting back: \"You\ncertainly must have a hodge-podge of a yarn there without _Us!_ Why,\nman! We are in every story ever written, _hundreds of thousands of\ntimes!_ This is the first time we ever were shut out!\"\n\nPronouns also caused trouble; for such words as he, she, they, them,\ntheirs, her, herself, myself, himself, yourself, etc., could not be\nutilized. But a particularly annoying obstacle comes when, almost\nthrough a long paragraph you can find no words with which to", ",\ndown, down, almost grazing that small roof, Frank, poor chap, as shaky\nas at his church ritual, thirty months ago, staid away from Radio\nStation KBH, and stuck to that small bungalow as a fly sticks around a\nsugar bowl.\n\nFinally, on a crisp Autumn night, that soaring bird shot straight down\nwith such an assuring swoop, that old Doc Wilkins, indoors with Nancy,\nsaw it and said, quickly:--\n\n\"On your way, Nancy girl!!\" and that part", "his\nbrain!! Up, out, in; all kinds of ways!! _What_ crashing bombs!!\n\nAnd, that first calm night on Old Lady Flanagan's porch; that moonlit\nnight of bliss, with soft, cuddling, snuggling, laughing, crying\ndarling Mary!\n\n\"I say,\" Norman was shouting, inwardly; \"that night of bliss _was_ a\nnight of bliss and _don't anybody try to say that it wasn't!_\"\n\nFor it was a night on which a young man's", "water. And I received one most scathing epistle from a\nlady (woman!) denouncing me as a \"genuine fake;\" (that paradox being\na most interesting one!), and ending by saying:--\"Everyone knows\nthat such a feat is impossible.\" All right. Then the impossible has\nbeen accomplished; (a paradox to equal hers!) Other criticism may be\ndirected at the Introduction; but this section of a story _also_ is not\npart of it. The author is entitled to it, in order properly to explain\nhis work. The story", "continue\nthat line of thought; hence, as in Solitaire, you are \"stuck,\" and must\ngo way back and start another; which, of course, must perfectly fit the\npreceding context.\n\nI have received some extremely odd criticisms since the Associated\nPress widely announced that such a book was being written. A\nrapid-talking New York newspaper columnist wanted to know how I would\nget over the plain fact that my name contains the letter E three times.\nAs an author's name is _not_ a part of his story, that criticism\ndid not hold", "up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,\ncan only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't\nshow up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our\nCapitol building at Washington.\n\nBut why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply\nbrought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across\ncountry; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such\na trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,", "this history shows that that mouthy\nantagonist who had had so much to say about \"pink satin ribbons\" and\n\"vanilla sprays,\" didn't win. No. A first class man got that position;\nold Tom Young, Sarah's Dad, as good an old soul as any in all Branton\nHills. And was Sarah happy! Oh, my! And was Sarah proud! Two \"oh, mys!\"\nTiny Nancy, loyal as always to Bill, said:--\n\n\"Bill was as good as in, for nobody, knowing my Bill would", "--\n\n\"Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as\nbig as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you\nsaw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an\ninquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which\nyou first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking\na small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at\nour Night", "was chasing that car in from our\nsuburbs, says both horribly drunk, Antor grazing four cars, Madam\nshouting and singing wildly, with Grant arriving too tardily to ward\noff that final crash.'\"\n\nNow Lady Gadsby was, first of all, a woman; and so got up quickly,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Oh!! I must go down to poor young Mary, _right off!_\" and Gadsby sat\ntapping his foot, saying:--\n\n\"So Antor's pantry probably still holds that stuff. Too bad", ", waiting. Finally, finishing a bad attack of\ncoughing, (though Frank hadn't any cold!), that young man said:--\n\n\"I,--that is, Nancy and I,--or, I will say that I want to,--that is,--I\nthink Nancy and I would--\" and Gadsby took pity on him, right off.\n\nNancy had always had a strong liking for Frank. Both had grown up in\nBranton Hills from babyhood; and Gadsby thought back about that lasso\nwhich had brought him Lady Gadsby", "know,\nwho, for many a month, had shown what a romantic public calls \"a crush\"\nfor Gadsby's young Nancy.\n\nSo a jolly call of:--\"What's on your mind, boy?\" rang out, as Frank\nsank wiltingly into a hammock, wiping his brow of what I _actually_\nknow was _not_ natural humidity from an August night! Now Gadsby, who\nwas, as I said, a gay Lothario in his own youth, saw right off what\nwas coming, and sat back", "spirits way, way down into a sorrowful slump. Black,\nugly, rumbling clouds hung aggravatingly about in a saturation of mist,\nrain and fog; and roads and lawns got such a washing that Nancy said:--\n\n\"Anyway, if I can't _walk_ across that front church yard, I can _swim\nit!!_\"\n\nThat was Nancy; a small bunch of inborn good humor; and I'll say, right\nnow, that it _took_ good humor, and lots of it, to look upon conditions", "quickly took that chair, from which Truth, in all its\npurity, is customarily brought out. But Virginia was not a bit shaky\nnor anxious, nor doubtful of an ability to go through with this ugly\ntask.\n\nGadsby and Doc Wilkins sat watching Nina; Gadsby with profound\nsympathy, but Wilkins with an old school-pal's intuition, watching\nfor a blow-up. But Nina didn't blow up, that is, not visibly; but that\nfamous rigid will was boiling, full tilt; boiling up to a point", "sat on his porch on a\nwarm spring day, a paragraph in Branton Hills' \"Post\" brought forth\nsuch a vigorous \"_Huh!_\" that Lady Gadsby was curious, asking:--\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nSo Gadsby said:--\"What do you think of _this_? It says:--'In a wild\nswaying dash down Broadway last night at midnight, past-Councilman\nAntor's car hit a hydrant, killing him and Madam Antor instantly.\nHighway Patrolman Harry Grant, who", "oil lamps, ash trays, and gaudy\nstrings of tiny crystal balls for adorning party gowns. And did Nancy\nwant to buy out this shop? And did Frank doubt his ability to do so?\nAnd did Kathlyn ask: \"How about it, Johnny?\" and did John Smith say:\n\"Nothing doing\"? It was just that. But it only shows that good old\nBranton Hills' inclination for aiding anything which looks worthy; and\nsuch a school I know you will admit, looks that way.\n\nTramping upstairs, still again, Gadsby" ], [ "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "a hand, most of which, now out of\nHigh School, was growing up rapidly; and anybody who knows anything at\nall about Branton Hills' history, knows that, if this band of bright,\nloyal pals of Gadsby's was out to attain a goal, it was mighty apt to\nstart things humming. To say that Gadsby's rivals got a bad jolt as\nit got around town that his \"bunch of warriors\" was aiding him, would\nput it but mildly. _Two quit instantly_, saying that this is a day of", "\"That's our Bill, all right!\nAlways thinking of dolling up!\" and Lady Gadsby, rising quickly, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I must call up Nancy, Kathlyn and Sarah!\" and, in a trio of small\nbungalows, joy, _wild_ joy, found its way into girlish minds!\n\nAs Gadsby sat, going through this good word again and again, a mirthful\nchuckling had Lady Gadsby asking:--\n\n\"What's so funny about it?\"\n\n\"Nothing; only if", "of liquor!!_\"\n\nAs that army group was starting to march on, with this girl turning\ntowards Gadsby, His Honor had to gasp, astonishingly:--\n\n\"Why! Mary Antor!!\"\n\n\"Oh! If it isn't Mayor Gadsby! I don't run across you much, now-a-days.\nHow is Lady Gadsby holding up during this awful war?\"\n\nAll such family gossip passing quickly, Gadsby said:--\n\n\"But this Salvation Army work, Mary? How long----\"", ", who is on duty at our Commissary. Lucky guy!\nLots of food always around! Paul is growing fat. Looks mighty good. Oh,\nhow all of us do miss you and good old Branton Hills! I can't find a\nsolitary suit in this town that I would put on to go to a dog fight!\n_Such fashion!_\" and so on; just a natural outpouring from a boy, away\non his first trip from his Dad's kindly roof.\n\n\"Ha, ha!\" said Gadsby, laughing jovially;", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "charming Fairy, which knows no\nhuman words, can bring. Around that gaudy band-stand, at two-thirty\non that first Sunday, sat or stood as happy a throng of old and young\nas any man could wish for; and Gadsby and his \"gang\" got hand-clasps\nand hand-claps, from all. A good band, you know, not only can stir and\nthrill you; for it can play a soft crooning lullaby, a lilting waltz or\npolka; or, with its wood winds,", "s just grand; but what will Papa say?\"\n\nNow Gadsby had known Lucy's family from boyhood, so said:--\n\n\"You inform your dad that at any sign of balking by him, I'll put HIM\nin Lucy Zoo, and pay a boy to prod him with a sharp stick, until his\napproval is in my hands.\" This brought such a rollicking laugh that a\nman mowing City Hall lawn had to laugh, too.\n\nNow, (Ah! But I can't avoid saying it!) our Organization was out again;", "big load for so small a\nwoman, Nancy gasping out:--\n\n\"Daddy!! Must Bill and Julius and Frank and John,----\"\n\nGadsby put down his \"Post\" and, pulling Nancy down onto his lap, said:--\n\n\"Nancy darling, Bill and Julius and Frank and John must. Old Glory is\ncalling, baby, and no Branton Hills boy will balk at _that_ call. It's\nawful, but it's a fact, now.\"\n\nLady Gadsby said nothing, but Nancy and", "as all was in condition Gadsby\ntold Marian to stand up. This brought that vast crowd up, also; and\nGadsby said:--\n\n\"Now hold your wand way up high, and swing it, to signal Harold to\nstart.\"\n\nUp shot a tiny arm; and Harold, watching from his cockpit, sang\nout:--\"CONTACT!!\"\n\nA vigorous twist of his ship's gigantic \"fan\" a shout, a roar, a whizz,\na mighty cloud of dust, and amid a tornado of clapping, sh", "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "(a part of\nGadsby's Organization of Youth's work, you know) struck up a bright\nmarch, not a glum physiognomy was found in all that big park.\n\nGadsby and Lucy had much curiosity in watching what such crashing\nmusic would do to various animals. At first a spirit akin to worry\nhad baboons, gorillas, and such, staring about, as still as so many\nposts; until, finding that no harm was coming from such sounds, soon\ntook to climbing and swinging again. Stags, yaks", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "of\nhumanity roars of congratulation burst forth. As soon as Mayor Brown\nshook hands (and such tiny, warm, soft young hands, too!) with all, a\nbig out-door lunch was found waiting on a charming lawn back of City\nHall; and this was no World War mobilization lunch of doughnuts and a\nhot dog sandwich; but, as two of Gadsby's sons said, was \"an all-round,\ngood, big fill-up;\" and many a boy's and girl's \"tummy\" was soon as\nround and t", "finally, groups and\npairs, drifting out, all had happy words for His Honor and Lady Gadsby;\nand His Honor, a word or two; for you know Gadsby _can_ talk? So it\nwas:--\n\n\"Good night, Nina; good luck, Old Bill! Oh! say, Bill; will _that_\ncigar blow up? Good night, Virginia; and ta-ta Patricia; and Virginia,\nyou mind your Ma and stay down on solid ground! Aha, Clancy! You old\nmotor-pump fan! No", ", as this girl, as\nbadly blown as Lucy was in asking for a zoo, ran up, calling out:--\n\n\"I GOT IT!! I GOT IT!!\"\n\n\"Got what? A fit?\"\n\n\"No! I got that final four thousand dollars! It's from Lady Standish,\nwho says that way back in school days, you and----\"\n\n\"Whoa!! That was back in _history!_\" but Gadsby was blushing, and Sarah\nwas winking, coyly.\n\nNow Gadsby was as fond", "against aircraft; oil lamps against arc lights!\nSlow, mail information against radio! But, as all this stuff is laid\nout, what will you do with it? Nobody wants it. So I say, burn it, and\ntomorrow morning, how happy you will find that musty old mind!\"\n\nBut His Honor's mansion finally got back to normal as clouds of dust\nand swats and slaps from dusting cloths had shown Lady Gadsby and\nKathlyn that \"that parlor was simply awful\" though Gadsby, Julius and\nBill always had thought", "idding all this crowd!\"\n\n\"Oho! So _that's_ it!\"\n\nSo Gadsby, pushing his way again through that jam, and coming to that\nmost worthy woman, said:--\n\n\"By golly, Sally! It's plain that you want Big Four.\"\n\n\"John Gadsby, you ought to _know_ that I do. Why! A man might buy that\nbig pair of roans to hitch up to a plow! Or hook a big black onto an\nash cart!\"\n\n\"I know that, Sally, but that small", "it is as hard to avoid naming it,\nin this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach.\n\nOh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, \"for about\na million months,\" finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around\nto six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past\npractically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam\ninto that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx,\nblocking all traffic in that" ], [ "is badly worn. Shall\nit stay so? Up jumps Old Bill Simpkins claiming that it is a townsman's\nduty to fix up his wagon springs if that road is too rough for him!\"\n\nAs Gadsby sat thinking thus, his plan was rapidly growing; and, in a\nmonth, was actually starting to work. How? You'll know shortly; but\nfirst, you should know this John Gadsby; a man of \"around fifty;\" a\nfamily man, and known throughout Branton Hills for his high standard of\nhonor and altruism", "a youthful motorist, waiting dutifully at\na curb, thought that a full family history of both host and visitor was\nup for an airing. But old folks always _will_ talk and it will not do a\nboy or girl any harm to wait; for, you know, that boy or girl will act\nin just that way, at a not too far-off day!\n\nBut, popular as this touring plan was, it had to stop; for school\nagain took all young folks from such out-door activity. Nobody was so\nsorry at this as Gadsby", "Gadsby thrill? Did that long-past, happy day\nfloat in glowing colors through his mind? It did. And now that old,\nhard-working bunch of kids, grown up, now, and with kids of its own;\nthat loyal bunch of young sprouts was taking root; was born again!\n\nOh, _how_ Youth crawls up on you! How a tiny girl \"almost instantly\"\nshoots up into a tall, charming young woman! _How_ a top-spinning,\nball-tossing, racing, shouting boy looms up", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "own family.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n\nI think that now you should know this charming Gadsby family; so I will\nbring forth Lady Gadsby, about whom I told you at Gadsby's inauguration\nas Mayor; a loyal church woman with a vocal ability for choir work;\nand, with good capability on piano or organ, no woman could \"fill in\"\nin so many ways; and no woman was so willing, and quick to do so.\nGadsby had two sons; bright lads and popular with all. Julius was of\na stud", ", our young solicitor got a loving kiss, with:--\n\n\"A zoo! Oh! how truly charming! What _grand_ things Mayor Gadsby\ncan think up without half trying!\" And Sarah had to grin, thinking\nof Lucy, and Old Lady Flanagan's opinion of His Honor! \"You may not\nknow it, Sarah,\" said Lady Standish, \"but John Gadsby and I had a big\nflirtation, way back in our school days. And HOW downcast poor Johnny\nwas at my finding a husband out of town! But that was long", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"", "Standish?\"\n\n\"No. Not until John Gadsby 'cut him out' and won Lady Gadsby.\"\n\n\"Aha!! And a Ho, Ho!!\" said Sarah, laughing gayly. \"So folks had\nwhat you call 'affairs' way back, just as today!\" and also laughing\ninwardly, at what Lucy had said about this kindly Lady Standish and His\nHonor.\n\nAh! That good old schoolday, now so long past! How it bobs up,\nnow-a-days, if you watch a young lad", ",\nwho has 'grown up in a night,' stopping, and saying: 'Mayor Gadsby,\nthis is my husband.' But I'll say that Cupid's markmanship has always\nbrought about happy matings. And, Mary, you darling kid, your sad, dark\nshadows will gradually pass; and Lady Gadsby and I will try to bring\nyou loads and loads of comfort. But, say, you, Julius! I didn't know\nthat you and Mary----\"\n\n\"Ho, ho\" said Mary, laughing. \"Did", "on any kind of an occasion for public good. A loyal\nchurchman, Gadsby was a man who, though admitting that an occasional\nfault in our daily acts is bound to occur, had taught his two boys and\na pair of girls that, though folks do slip from what Scriptural authors\ncall that \"straight and narrow path,\" it will not pay to risk your own\nSoul by slipping, just so that you can laugh at your ability in staying\nout of prison; for Gadsby, having grown up in Branton Hills, could\npoint to many such man or woman", "by's parlor, as Parson Brown\nbrought into unity Kathlyn and John. Kathlyn was _radiantly_ happy; and\nJohn, our famous organist, was as happy with only charming Sarah Young\nat an upright piano, as any organist in a big choir loft.\n\nBut to Lady Gadsby and His Honor, this was, in a way, a sad affair;\nfor that big mansion now had lost two of its inhabitants; and, as many\nold folks know, a vast gap, or chasm thus forms, backward across which\nflit happy", ". Now asking a girl's Dad for that\nyoung lady's hand is no snap for any young swain; and Gadsby was just\nthat kind of a Dad who would smooth out any bumps or rough spots in\nsuch a young swain's path. Nancy wasn't a child, now, but a grown-up\nyoung woman; so Gadsby said:--\n\n\"Frank, Lady Gadsby and I know all about how much you think of Nancy;\nand what Nancy thinks of you. So, if you want to marry, our full wish\nis", "oil lamps, ash trays, and gaudy\nstrings of tiny crystal balls for adorning party gowns. And did Nancy\nwant to buy out this shop? And did Frank doubt his ability to do so?\nAnd did Kathlyn ask: \"How about it, Johnny?\" and did John Smith say:\n\"Nothing doing\"? It was just that. But it only shows that good old\nBranton Hills' inclination for aiding anything which looks worthy; and\nsuch a school I know you will admit, looks that way.\n\nTramping upstairs, still again, Gadsby", "dollar on it.\"\n\nAnd Lucy, also a woman, said smilingly:--\n\n\"And I'll put up a dollar and a half!\"\n\nBut His Honor and Lady Gadsby, at such talk would look skyward, cough,\nand say:--\n\n\"Possibly a woman; and a mighty young woman, at that.\"\n\nNow, if anything will \"warm up\" a public, it is gossip; particularly\nif it is about mystifying actions of a public man; and this had soon\ngrown to a point at which a particularly curious man", "So did my Dad.\"\n\nAnd, as Virginia Adams was that trio's third part; and as Sarah and\nDoris had always known Nina Adams' strong will; and as,--Oh, hum! It\nwas a happy fascination until adult minds got hold of it!\n\n\nXXIX\n\n\nGadsby was walking back from a visit down in Branton Hills'\nmanufacturing district on a Saturday night. A busy day's traffic had\nhad its noisy run; and with not many folks in sight, His Honor got\nalong without having to stop to grasp", "William Gadsby, do you...?\"\n\nWilliam, but shortly back from abroad, you know, standing with grand,\nmilitary rigidity, said:\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"And Lucy Donaldson, do you...?\"\n\nIt didn't last long. Just a word or two; a burst of music of a famous\nmarch by John Smith, Branton Hills' organist, in that cabin with a\nsmall piano; just a---- But that crowd couldn't wait for that! With a\nwhoop His Honor sprang into that pond, wading", "quickly!_ Say that I want your Captain\nto notify my folks that Lillian is all right.\"\n\n\"Good gosh, Your Honor!! Is this tot your grandchild?\"\n\n\"Grandchild or no grandchild, _you dash to that box!!_\"\n\nAnd so, again, John Gadsby, Champion of Youth, had shown officialdom\nthat a child's brain and that of an adult vary as do a gigantic oak and\nits tiny acorn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\n\nMost of Gadsby's old Organization of Youth was", "to that jovial\nmouth; a gray hair or two, cropping up amongst his wavy brown. But\nGadsby was not old. Oh, no; far from it. Still, that stoop in walking;\nthat odd, limp slump in sitting; that toning down in joviality, had,\nfor six months past, had all Branton Hills sympathizing with its\npopular Mayor.\n\n * * * * *\n\nDays; days; days! And, oh! that _tough_ part,--nights,", "thing!!\" and Lady Gadsby and Nina sat\nlaughing on a couch, as in old, old school days. \"And,\" said Nina,\nhappily; \"poor Bill's upstairs, now, putting his things around to suit\nhim. Living for so long in a small lodging all his things staid in a\ntrunk. A lodging-room always has various folks around, you know, and a\nman don't lay his things out as in his _own_ room. So--\"\n\n\"Nina,\" said Lady Gadsby; \"do you", "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina" ], [ "was rising and\nfalling abnormally; but, finally, looking quickly up at old Tom, Sarah\nsaid:--\n\n\"Daddy, I want to go to war.\"\n\n\"_Do what?_\" If Sarah had said anything about jumping out of a balloon,\nor of buying a gorilla to play with, Tom Young wouldn't know any such\nastounding doubt as brought his rocking chair to a quick standstill.\n\n\"_War?_ What kind of talk is this? A girl going to war? What for? How?\n_Say!!", ", sang out:--\n\n\"Say!! If this scrap stops, and a _big_ war starts,--_Aha_, boy! You\njust watch Allan Banks! Son of Councilman Banks!!\" and a small fist was\npounding viciously on an also small bosom.\n\n\"By golly!\" said Gadsby, walking away, \"that's Tomorrow talking!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo now this history will drift along; along through days and months;\ndays and months of that awful gnawing", "\"_Aw! I do too!!_\"\n\n\"But young boys _can't_ go to war.\"\n\n\"I know that; and I wish this will last until I grow so I _can_ go.\nIt's just grand! A big cannon says _Boom! Boom!_ and,--\"\n\n\"Sit down on this wall, boy. I want to talk to you.\"\n\n\"All right. Shoot!\"\n\n\"Now look, Allan. If this war should last until you grow up, just think\nof how many _thous", "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", "n't you know that Julius and Norman\nand I sat out nights on old Lady Flanagan's porch?\"\n\n\"Why, no; how should I? I don't go snooping around anybody's porch.\"\n\n\"Ha, ha, Dad,\" said Julius; \"no snooping would find _that_ out. Mary\nand I had had this plan so long ago that I didn't know a World War was\ncoming!\"\n\n\n\n\nXXXVIII\n\n\nAs a small boy, your historian was told that \"A king was in his", "aglow that night, that \"World War\nflag\" not hanging in his window now. And so, on Labor Day night, Lady\nGadsby and His Honor, sitting in his parlor, thought that a light\nfootfall was sounding out on his porch. As Gadsby got up to find\nout about it, Julius, coming in with a young girl, stood looking,\ngrinningly, at Lady Gadsby; who, jumping up, said, happily:--\n\n\"Why! Mary Antor!!\"\n\n\"No, Ma,\" said Julius. \"This", "'s mansion, was soon far, far back.\nA robin or two was hopping about on His Honor's lawn, looking for a\nsquirming lunch; Lady was taking short walks with Nancy; Kathlyn having\nto go back to work in our big hospital. Lilac, syringa, narcissus,\ntulips, hyacinths burst out in a riot of bloom; and a bright warm Sun\nbrought joy to all. And so this history found His Honor on his porch\nwith his \"Post\" as a young lad, coming up,", "_ Who _put_ this crazy stunt into your brain, anyway?\"\n\nAs you know, Sarah was not only charming in ways, but also in build;\nand, with that glorious crown of brownish-gold hair, that always\nsmiling mouth and that soft, plump girlishly-girlish form, no man, Tom\nYoung nor anybody, could think of Sarah and war in a solitary thought.\nSo Sarah said, softly:--\n\n\"Last night, our Night School trio thought that our boys, so far away,\nmust miss us, and Branton Hills", "Natural History,\nand how its staff is praying for him; Nancy's radio shut down _tight_,\nfor so much as a thought of Station KBH was as a thrust of a sword.\nDays. Days. Days of shouting orators, blaring bands, troops from far\naway pausing at our big railway station, as girls, going through long\ntrains of cars, took doughnuts and hot drinks. In Gadsby's parlor\nwindow hung that famous \"World War flag\" of nothing but stars; nobody\nknowing at what instant a _gold_ star", "polishing\noutfits; tiring frail young backs and straining soft young hands;\nknowing that this factory's output might,--and probably would,--rob a\nwoman across that big Atlantic of a husband or son,--but, still, it is\nwar!\n\nGadsby, smoking on his ivy-clad porch, as his Lady was industriously\nknitting, said, in a sort of soliloquy:--\n\n\"War! That awful condition which a famous military man in command of a\ndivision, long ago, said was synonymous", "ands_ of troops it would kill. How many grand, good\nlads it would put right out of this world.\"\n\n\"Gosh! That's so, ain't it! I didn't think of guys dyin'.\"\n\n\"But a man _has_ to think of that, Allan. And _you_ will, as you grow\nup. My two big sons just put off on that big troop train. I don't know\n_how_ long Bill and Julius will stay away. Your big cannon might go\n_Boom!_ and hit Bill or", "about is uniforms, pay, transportation,\narmy corps, divisions, naval squadrons, and so on.\"\n\nAn occasional Branton Hills politician thought that it \"might blow out\nin a month or two;\" but your Historian knows that it didn't; all of\nthat \"blowing\" consisting of blasts from that military clarion, calling\nfor mobilization.\n\n * * * * *\n\nDays! Days! Days! Finally, on May Fourth, that day of tiny Nancy's big\nchurch ritual, you know; that day,", "mighty\noak will fall, in a long fight. Lady Gadsby will avoid such a snap\nthough it is by a narrow margin.\"\n\nAs this group sat in that holly-hung parlor, with that big cloth sign\nin big gold capitals; HAPPY CHRISTMAS, across its back wall; with horns\ntooting outdoors; with many a window around town aglow with tiny,\ndancing tallow-dip lights; with baby Lillian \"all snuggling--so warm in\na cot; as vision of sugar plums\"--", "it is as hard to avoid naming it,\nin this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach.\n\nOh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, \"for about\na million months,\" finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around\nto six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past\npractically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam\ninto that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx,\nblocking all traffic in that", "with Satan and all his cohorts!\nWar! That awful condition of human minds coming down from way, _way_\nback of all history; that vast void during which sympathy was not\nknown; during which animals fought with tooth, claw or horn; that vast\nvoid during which wounds had no soothing balm, until thirst, agony or a\nfinal swoon laid low a gigantic mammoth, or a tiny, gasping fawn! But\nnow, again, in this grand day of Man's magically growing brain, this\nday of kindly crooning to inf", "Kathlyn saw an ashy pallor\non that matronly brow; and Gadsby going out without waiting for his\ncustomary kiss.\n\nFor what you might call an instant, Branton Hills, in blank, black\ngloom, stood stock still. But not for long. Days got to flashing past,\nwith that awful sight of girls, out to lunch, saying:--\n\n\"Four from our shop; and that big cotton mill has _forty-six_ who will\ngo.\"\n\nWith Virginia saying:--\n\n\"About all that our boys talk", "--\n\n\"A Council donation will fit in grand, sir; but how about grouchy old\nBill Simpk----\"\n\n\"Trot along, Allan.\"\n\n\"But how about this stadium? I'm doubting Old B--\"\n\n\"Trot along, Allan.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nWhat Mary had said was a fact. Norman Antor had not only fought a\nmilitary war; Norman Antor had also fought an _inward_ war. A war,\nwhich fought him with gallon jugs,", "of\nhumanity roars of congratulation burst forth. As soon as Mayor Brown\nshook hands (and such tiny, warm, soft young hands, too!) with all, a\nbig out-door lunch was found waiting on a charming lawn back of City\nHall; and this was no World War mobilization lunch of doughnuts and a\nhot dog sandwich; but, as two of Gadsby's sons said, was \"an all-round,\ngood, big fill-up;\" and many a boy's and girl's \"tummy\" was soon as\nround and t", "! You saw knitting on many\na porch; knitting in railway trains; knitting during band music in City\nPark; knitting in shady arbors out at our big zoo; at many a woman's\nclub,--and,--_actually_, knitting _in church!!_ Finally a big factory,\ndown by our railway station, put out a call for \"anybody, man or woman,\nwho wants to work on munitions;\" and many a dainty Branton Hills girl\nsat at big, unfamiliar stamping, punching, grinding, or", "s porch, with\nfour small Rankins playing around; or was walking around that back yard\nfull of cats, dogs, rabbits, and so on, with no thought of soap box\norations in his mind.\n\n\n\n\nXXXI\n\n\nOn a grand autumn morning Branton Hills' \"Post\" boys ran shouting down\nBroadway, showing in half-foot wording: \"FIGHTING STOPS!! HISTORY'S\nMOST DISASTROUS WAR IS HISTORY NOW!!!\" and again, Branton Hills stood\nstock still. But only for" ], [ "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you", "of us; and I'm\njust going to _go_ to that child and try to bring a ray of comfort into\nthat young mind. That rum-guzzling Antor family!! _Ugh!!_\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nBut a city also has amusing sights; and our trio ran plump into that\nkind, just around a turn; for, standing on a soap box, shouting a\nhigh-sounding jargon of rapidly shot words, was Arthur Rankin, an\noriginal Organization lad; a crowd of boys, a", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did", "ackling twig, at night. It is a city of _humans_; animals, if you\nwish, but with a gift from On High of a _brain_, so far apart from all\ndumb animals as to allow us to talk about our public affairs calmly and\nthoughtfully. All this Night School rumpus is foolish. Naturally, what\nis taught in such a school is an important factor; so I want to find\nout from our Organization----\"\n\nAt this point, old Bill Simpkins got up, with:\n\n\"This Organization of Youth stuff puts", ", in voting for bright, vitalic Youth.)\n\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\n\nWidow Adams was sitting up again, for it was way past midnight,\nand Virginia was out. Many months ago Virginia was also out, and\nwas brought back, unconscious. So now Nina was again sitting up,\nfor Virginia was not a night-owl sort of a girl. Finally, around\ntwo o'clock, Nina couldn't stand it, and had to call in a passing\npatrolman. Now this patrolman was an original Organization of Youth\nboy, and had always known Nina", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "\nbut, now having grown a bit from such childish youths as had, at first\nstood in its ranks, a boy, now approaching manhood, and a girl, now a\nyoung woman, could solicit funds with an ability to talk knowingly in\nfavor of any factor that a hanging-back contributor could bring up in\nrunning down such a proposition. You can always count on finding that\nclass in any city or town upon any occasion for public works; but I can\nproudly say that many saw good in our Organization's plan; and Lucy\nsoon found that out,", ", City Councilman,\" would\nshow an anxiously waiting world how to run a city; though probably, I\nthink, how _not_ to run it.\n\nIt is truly surprising what a narrow mind, what a blind outlook a man,\nbrought up with practically no opposition to his boyhood wants, can\nattain; though brought into contact with indisputably important data\nfor improving his city. Our Organization boys thought Bill \"a bit off;\"\nbut Gadsby would only laugh at his blasts against paying out city\nfunds; for, you know, all bombs don'", ", as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a _young_\ncrowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its\n\"why-not-do-it-now?\" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big\nMunicipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built),\nMarian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:--\n\n\"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.\"\n\n\"Balloon? Balloon", "OR;\" and a campaign was on which\nstill rings in Branton Hills' history as \"hot stuff!\" Four aspiring\npoliticians ran in opposition; and, as all had good backing, and Gadsby\nonly his public works to fall back on, things soon got looking gloomy\nfor him. His antagonists, standing upon soap box, auto truck, or\nhastily built platforms, put forth, with prodigious vim, claims that\n\"our fair city will go back to its original oblivion if _I_ am not its\nMayor!\" But our Organization now took", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", "actory conditions.\n\nSo this small town of Branton Hills was lazily snoozing amidst\nup-and-doing towns, as Youth's Champion, John Gadsby, took hold of it;\nand shook its dawdling, flabby body until its inhabitants thought a\ntornado had struck it. Call it tornado, volcano, military onslaught,\nor what you will, this town found that it had a bunch of kids who had\nwills that would admit of no snoozing; for that is Youth, on its\nforward", "a night school was a good thing; but four,\nwith a faint glow of financial wisdom, (a rarity in politics, today!)\nsaw no cash in sight for such an institution.\n\nBut Gadsby's famous Organization won again! Branton Hills did not\ncontain a family in which this Organization wasn't known; and many a\nsock was brought out from hiding, and many a sofa pillow cut into, to\naid _any_ plan in which this group had a part.\n\nBut, just as funds had grown to what Mayor Gadsby thought would fill\nall such", "that though a growing\nyoung man might know a thing or two, making laws for a city was a man's\njob.\n\nSo, with a Mayoralty campaign on his hands, plus planning for that big\nauditorium, Gadsby was as busy as a fly around a syrup jug; for a mass\nof campaign mail had to go out; topics for orations thought up; and\ncontacts with his now truly important Organization of Youth, took so\nmany hours out of his days that his family hardly saw him, at all. Noon\nnaturally stood out as a", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", "that ball-bat arm can curl around your tiny baby as softly\nas a down pillow. Aw, darling! _Don't_ say you can't do anything;\nfor _I_ know you can. How about our old Organization of Youth days?\nYou,----\"\n\nAnd Nancy, now laughing, said, gaily:--\n\n\"Oho! Our old Organization! What fun it was! But, Daddy, I don't know\nof any young crowd following us up.\"\n\n\"No. Our young folks of today think such things too much work;\" and,\nas", "swish across clouds and sky. Bands should play; boys and\ngirls march and sing; and a vast crowd would pour into City Hall. As on\nsimilar occasions, a bad rush for chairs was apt to occur, a company\nof military units should occupy all important points, to hold back\nanything simulating a jam.\n\nNow, if you think our Organization wasn't all agog and wild, with\nyouthful anticipation at having a diploma for work out of school\nhours, you just don't know Youth. Boys and girls, though not full\n", "municipality\nwhich has won acclaim, not only from its officials and inhabitants,\nbut from surrounding towns I found, in our young folks, an out-and-out\ninclination to assist; and you, today, can look upon it as labor in\nwhich your adult aid was but a small factor. So now, my Organization of\nYouth, if you will pass across this platform, your Mayor will hand you\nyour diplomas.\"\n\nNot in all Branton Hills' history had any boy or girl known such a\nthrill as upon winning that hard-won roll! And from solid banks" ], [ "\n\n\nAlong in April, Gadsby sat finishing his morning toast as a boy,\nrushing in, put a \"Post\" on his lap with a wild, boyish gasp of:--\"_My\ngosh_, Mayor Gadsby, _Look!!_\" and Gadsby saw a word about a foot high.\nIt was W--A--R. Lady Gadsby saw it also, slowly sinking into a chair.\nAt that instant both Nancy and Kathlyn burst frantically in, Nancy\nlugging Baby Lillian, now almost two, and a", ", sang out:--\n\n\"Say!! If this scrap stops, and a _big_ war starts,--_Aha_, boy! You\njust watch Allan Banks! Son of Councilman Banks!!\" and a small fist was\npounding viciously on an also small bosom.\n\n\"By golly!\" said Gadsby, walking away, \"that's Tomorrow talking!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo now this history will drift along; along through days and months;\ndays and months of that awful gnawing", "'s mansion, was soon far, far back.\nA robin or two was hopping about on His Honor's lawn, looking for a\nsquirming lunch; Lady was taking short walks with Nancy; Kathlyn having\nto go back to work in our big hospital. Lilac, syringa, narcissus,\ntulips, hyacinths burst out in a riot of bloom; and a bright warm Sun\nbrought joy to all. And so this history found His Honor on his porch\nwith his \"Post\" as a young lad, coming up,", "about is uniforms, pay, transportation,\narmy corps, divisions, naval squadrons, and so on.\"\n\nAn occasional Branton Hills politician thought that it \"might blow out\nin a month or two;\" but your Historian knows that it didn't; all of\nthat \"blowing\" consisting of blasts from that military clarion, calling\nfor mobilization.\n\n * * * * *\n\nDays! Days! Days! Finally, on May Fourth, that day of tiny Nancy's big\nchurch ritual, you know; that day,", "visitors; and visitors, you know, _might_ turn into\ninhabitants! And so things finally got around to Inauguration Day; and,\nknowing that no kid could sit still in school on such an occasion, it\nwas put down for a Saturday; and, so many happy, shouting, hopping,\njumping kids stood waiting for His Honor to cut a satin ribbon in front\nof Sarah Young's Rainbow Arch, that grown folks had to wait, four\nblocks back. As Gadsby was roaming around with Lucy, to find if things\nshould", "aglow that night, that \"World War\nflag\" not hanging in his window now. And so, on Labor Day night, Lady\nGadsby and His Honor, sitting in his parlor, thought that a light\nfootfall was sounding out on his porch. As Gadsby got up to find\nout about it, Julius, coming in with a young girl, stood looking,\ngrinningly, at Lady Gadsby; who, jumping up, said, happily:--\n\n\"Why! Mary Antor!!\"\n\n\"No, Ma,\" said Julius. \"This", "ist who knows about\nsuch things would out-talk you without half trying. No, darling, this\npolitical stuff is too big for you. You just look out for things in\nthat small bungalow of yours, and allow Branton Hills to fight to put\nBill in. You know my old slogan:--'Man at a city's front; woman at a\ncabin door.'\"\n\nAnd Nancy, fondly stroking his hand, said:\n\n\"Man at a city's front! What a grand post for a man! A city, a big,\n", "Natural History,\nand how its staff is praying for him; Nancy's radio shut down _tight_,\nfor so much as a thought of Station KBH was as a thrust of a sword.\nDays. Days. Days of shouting orators, blaring bands, troops from far\naway pausing at our big railway station, as girls, going through long\ntrains of cars, took doughnuts and hot drinks. In Gadsby's parlor\nwindow hung that famous \"World War flag\" of nothing but stars; nobody\nknowing at what instant a _gold_ star", "ballot\nagainst him; and Bill would hold that honor now, but for 'Old Glory's'\ncalling.\"\n\nThat's right, Nancy darling, you stick up for Bill; for, though\nBill didn't know it until many months, a citation \"for outstanding\nand valorous conduct in action\" was soon to go through our National\nPrinting Plant! For a \"city fop\" or an \"outdoor part of a tailor shop\"\nis not always a boob, you know.\n\nGadsby's mansion was again brightly", "boss,\" I think it will\npass in this oddly built-up story. Now I am going to boost our famous\nOrganization again, by stating that a boy from its ranks, Frank Morgan,\nwas put in; for it was a hobby of Gadsby to put Branton Hills boys in\nBranton Hills Municipal jobs. So Frank, right away, got all sorts of\ncalls for hours or half hours to broadcast \"most astounding bargains\"\nin clothing, salad oils, motor oils, motor \"gas\", soaps, cars, and\ntooth brush lubric", "it is as hard to avoid naming it,\nin this story, as it is to withstand its assault upon your stomach.\n\nOh hum! Now what? Aha! May Fourth, lasting, as Nancy said, \"for about\na million months,\" finally got Gadsby's dining room clock around\nto six-fifty; only about an hour, now, to that grand march past\npractically half of Branton Hills' population; for all who couldn't jam\ninto that commodious church would stand around in a solid phalanx,\nblocking all traffic in that", "Lucy's Zoo; and,\nas with all big City affairs, an Inauguration should start it off. Now,\non all such affairs you always find a \"visitor of honor\"; and on this\ngrand day Gadsby couldn't think of anybody for that important post but\nMarian. And, as it would occur in August, any day would do, as that is\na school vacation month.\n\nAnd what a _mob_ stood, or sat, on that big airport, waiting for a\nsignal from young Marian which would start Harold aloft, on Branton\nHills", "_now_ what? A loud whizz of a motor! A\nsuffocating blast of gas! and a dom thing a-standin' on this floor, wid\nno brain; wid nothin' lovin' about it. Wid no soul.\"\n\n\"Um-m-m,\" said Dowd, \"I dunno about an animal havin' a soul, but it's\ngot a thing not so dom far _from_ it.\"\n\nAs Clancy sat worrying about various forms of disposal for Big Four, an\nofficial phoning from City Hall, said", "'s so. Girls do fuss about dolls. My girls did.\"\n\n\"How many dolls has your girls got?\"\n\n\"Ha, ha! Not any, now. My girls all got grown up and big.\"\n\nDuring this calm, happy talk, a patrolman, coming up, said:--\n\n\"Shall I stick around, Your Honor? Any kidnapping facts?\"\n\n\"I don't know, just now. Wait around about an hour, and drop in again.\"\n\nSo His Honor, Mayor of Branton Hills, and Childhood sat on that grass", "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "with:--\n\n\"Ha, Bill! You thinka your man can worka all right, firsta day, huh?\nYou talka crazy so much as a fool! I laugha tinkin' of you startin' on\na patcha for my boota! You lasta just a half hour. Thisa library all\nrighta. This town too mucha what I call tight-wad!\"\n\nOh, hum!! It's a tough job making old dogs do tricks. But our\nOrganization was now holding almost daily sittings, and soon a\nbright", ", you just don't know Youth, as it is today. But to whom\ncould Youth look for so big an outlay as a library building would cost?\nBooks also cost; librarians and janitors draw pay. So, with light,\nwarmth, and all-round comforts, it was a task to stump a full-grown\npolitician; to say nothing of a plain, ordinary townsman and a bunch\nof kids. So Gadsby thought of taking two bright boys and two smart\ngirls to Washington, to call upon a man in a high position,", "civic affairs for a bit, and go on to a most natural\nact in this city of many young chaps and charming young girls which\nwas slowly working up all through this history, as Mayor Gadsby had\noccasion to find out, sitting comfortably on his porch on a hot, sultry\nAugust night. Amidst blossoming shrubs, a dim form slowly trod up his\nwinding pathway. It was a young man, plainly trying to act calmly, but\ncouldn't. It was Frank Morgan, our radio broadcasting \"boss\", you", "and His\nHonor, as that mystifying day was not far off, said:--\n\n\"This, I think, is a trick by a kid or two, to show us old ducks that\nan 'incog' can hold out, right up to its actual consummation. I don't\nknow a thing about what's going on; but, by golly! I'll show up; and if\nany fun is afloat, I'll join in, full blast.\"\n\nBut!!---- As our Organization boys and girls, and Branton Hills folks\ngot to", "But a kid's mind is\nmighty quick and sharp; and a small tot of four had that kind of mind,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Oh! That last ribbon! Isn't anybody going to hold it?\"\n\nNow historians shouldn't laugh. Historians should only put down what\noccurs. But I, _your_ historian of Branton Hills, not only had to\nlaugh, but to _roar_; for this tot, worrying about that hanging ribbon,\nsaw our big pompous Council group looking on. Now a Council is nothing\n" ], [ "this history shows that that mouthy\nantagonist who had had so much to say about \"pink satin ribbons\" and\n\"vanilla sprays,\" didn't win. No. A first class man got that position;\nold Tom Young, Sarah's Dad, as good an old soul as any in all Branton\nHills. And was Sarah happy! Oh, my! And was Sarah proud! Two \"oh, mys!\"\nTiny Nancy, loyal as always to Bill, said:--\n\n\"Bill was as good as in, for nobody, knowing my Bill would", "boss,\" I think it will\npass in this oddly built-up story. Now I am going to boost our famous\nOrganization again, by stating that a boy from its ranks, Frank Morgan,\nwas put in; for it was a hobby of Gadsby to put Branton Hills boys in\nBranton Hills Municipal jobs. So Frank, right away, got all sorts of\ncalls for hours or half hours to broadcast \"most astounding bargains\"\nin clothing, salad oils, motor oils, motor \"gas\", soaps, cars, and\ntooth brush lubric", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "water. And I received one most scathing epistle from a\nlady (woman!) denouncing me as a \"genuine fake;\" (that paradox being\na most interesting one!), and ending by saying:--\"Everyone knows\nthat such a feat is impossible.\" All right. Then the impossible has\nbeen accomplished; (a paradox to equal hers!) Other criticism may be\ndirected at the Introduction; but this section of a story _also_ is not\npart of it. The author is entitled to it, in order properly to explain\nhis work. The story", "was chasing that car in from our\nsuburbs, says both horribly drunk, Antor grazing four cars, Madam\nshouting and singing wildly, with Grant arriving too tardily to ward\noff that final crash.'\"\n\nNow Lady Gadsby was, first of all, a woman; and so got up quickly,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Oh!! I must go down to poor young Mary, _right off!_\" and Gadsby sat\ntapping his foot, saying:--\n\n\"So Antor's pantry probably still holds that stuff. Too bad", ",\ndown, down, almost grazing that small roof, Frank, poor chap, as shaky\nas at his church ritual, thirty months ago, staid away from Radio\nStation KBH, and stuck to that small bungalow as a fly sticks around a\nsugar bowl.\n\nFinally, on a crisp Autumn night, that soaring bird shot straight down\nwith such an assuring swoop, that old Doc Wilkins, indoors with Nancy,\nsaw it and said, quickly:--\n\n\"On your way, Nancy girl!!\" and that part", "Nancy; tiny, darling Nancy, his baby girl. For,\nduring that noisy carnival, folks saw (or _thought_ so, you know), a\nbig bird with long shanks and a monstrous bill, circling round and\nround that small bungalow's roof, plainly looking for a spot to land\non. Lady Gadsby and old Doctor Wilkins saw it, too, and told Nancy that\nthat big hospital which our old Organization had built, was holding\na room for instant occupancy; and, as that big bird daily swung down", ", giggling, said:--\n\n\"I put up a dollar, with Lucy's dollar-fifty that it's a woman.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know, now,\" said Nina. \"A man isn't always trotting around\non a woman's apron strings,\" and, as it was growing dark, Nina and\nVirginia got up to go.\n\nPassing down Gadsby's front walk, a soft night wind brought back to\nthat porch:--\n\n\"Now, Virginia, _quit_ this! You will", "'s part of it. God's parlor is awfully big, you know.\"\n\n\"_My_ parlor is awfully _small_; and not any bloss---- Oh! Wouldn't\nGod----?\"\n\nGadsby's hunch was now working, full tilt; and so, as this loving\nfamily man, having had four kids of his own, and this tot from a poor\nfamily with its \"awfully small\" parlor,--had trod this big glass\nbuilding's paths again and again; round and round, an almost monstrous\ns", "--\n\n\"Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as\nbig as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you\nsaw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an\ninquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which\nyou first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking\na small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at\nour Night", "ships, just _dripping_\nwith lilacs, as still and noncommittal as old Gibraltar. Slowly, on and\non it is coming; finally stopping right at that spot upon which our\ngroup is standing; forty boys, forty girls, and a big mob, all as still\nas a church. What _is_ it, anyway? Is anybody in it? Not a sign of it.\nBut wait! Aha! It _has_ an occupant, for, coming out of that lilac\nglory is----_Parson Brown!!_ Parson Brown", "that a stir was occurring in back of that boat\nlanding, with its small shack for storing oars and such. If our big\ncrowd was laughing and talking up to now, it _quit!_ And quit mighty\nquickly, too! If you want to hold a crowd, just mystify it. Old Lady\nFlanagan was starting to shout about \"this phony stuff,\" but Old Man\nFlanagan said:--\n\n\"Shut up! You ain't part of this show!\"\n\nNancy was actually hopping up and down, but Kathlyn", "up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,\ncan only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't\nshow up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our\nCapitol building at Washington.\n\nBut why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply\nbrought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across\ncountry; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such\na trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,", "\nkindly man, thoughtfully rubbing his chin, said:--\n\n\"Whom did your Dad rob?\"\n\n\"I dunno. It was a Ford car. Nobody wasn't in it, so why not grab it?\nThat's what Dad said. You can pick up a bit of cash for a car, you\nknow, boss. And say, if a car brung only six months, how long will I\nsquat in jail for swiping this half bun? Aw! Go slow, boss! I ain't no\nbad kid! Only just a hungry", "hold on to your hat, if you\ndon't!! And Marian's fur was all lumpy. _Boy! was that kid MAD!!_\n\nNow, just by luck, March thirty-first, coming along as days do, you\nknow, found Marian in front of a toy shop window, in which, way down\nfront, was a box of cigars, with a card saying: \"This Brand Will Start\nHis Blood Tingling.\" And Marian, as boys say, was \"on\" in an instant;\nand bought a cigar. Not a box, not a bunch", "know,\nwho, for many a month, had shown what a romantic public calls \"a crush\"\nfor Gadsby's young Nancy.\n\nSo a jolly call of:--\"What's on your mind, boy?\" rang out, as Frank\nsank wiltingly into a hammock, wiping his brow of what I _actually_\nknow was _not_ natural humidity from an August night! Now Gadsby, who\nwas, as I said, a gay Lothario in his own youth, saw right off what\nwas coming, and sat back", "rying toward a\ncombination-car, way up forward. Now Priscilla was not a girl who found\nmorbid curiosity in any such a public spot; but, still, an odd, uncanny\nsort of thrill,--almost a chill, in fact,--was urging, urging a slow\nwalk toward that car. Just why, Priscilla didn't know; but such things\ndo occur in a human mind. So Priscilla soon was standing on a trunk\ntruck, gazing down into that group which now was slowly moving back,\nforming room for taking out", "in climbing that an\norang-outang can do, will balk him!\n\nSo Nancy sat calmly rocking, rocking, rocking, and,--but, pardon! I'll\ngo on with this story. All I know is that Frank, arriving from work\nat Radio Station KBH, wouldn't so much as look at that big carnival\nlot, but would rush in, in a most loving, solicitous way which always\nbrought a kiss and a blush from Nancy. Now if I don't quit talking\nabout this young pair you", "required five and a half months of concentrated\nendeavor, with so many erasures and retrenchments that I tremble as\nI think of them. Of course anybody can write such a story. All that\nis needed is a piece of string tied from the E type-bar down to some\npart of the base of the typewriter. Then simply go ahead and type your\nstory. Incidentally, you should have some sort of a bromide preparation\nhandy, for use when the going gets rough, as it most assuredly will!\n\nBefore the book was in print, I was freely and", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"" ], [ "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did", "ackling twig, at night. It is a city of _humans_; animals, if you\nwish, but with a gift from On High of a _brain_, so far apart from all\ndumb animals as to allow us to talk about our public affairs calmly and\nthoughtfully. All this Night School rumpus is foolish. Naturally, what\nis taught in such a school is an important factor; so I want to find\nout from our Organization----\"\n\nAt this point, old Bill Simpkins got up, with:\n\n\"This Organization of Youth stuff puts", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "that ball-bat arm can curl around your tiny baby as softly\nas a down pillow. Aw, darling! _Don't_ say you can't do anything;\nfor _I_ know you can. How about our old Organization of Youth days?\nYou,----\"\n\nAnd Nancy, now laughing, said, gaily:--\n\n\"Oho! Our old Organization! What fun it was! But, Daddy, I don't know\nof any young crowd following us up.\"\n\n\"No. Our young folks of today think such things too much work;\" and,\nas", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", "swish across clouds and sky. Bands should play; boys and\ngirls march and sing; and a vast crowd would pour into City Hall. As on\nsimilar occasions, a bad rush for chairs was apt to occur, a company\nof military units should occupy all important points, to hold back\nanything simulating a jam.\n\nNow, if you think our Organization wasn't all agog and wild, with\nyouthful anticipation at having a diploma for work out of school\nhours, you just don't know Youth. Boys and girls, though not full\n", ", in voting for bright, vitalic Youth.)\n\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\n\nWidow Adams was sitting up again, for it was way past midnight,\nand Virginia was out. Many months ago Virginia was also out, and\nwas brought back, unconscious. So now Nina was again sitting up,\nfor Virginia was not a night-owl sort of a girl. Finally, around\ntwo o'clock, Nina couldn't stand it, and had to call in a passing\npatrolman. Now this patrolman was an original Organization of Youth\nboy, and had always known Nina", ", until a particularly bright\ngirl in our Organization, thought out a plan for caring for infants of\nfolks who had to go out, to work; and this bright kid soon had a group\nof girls who would join, during vacation, in voluntarily giving up four\ndays a month to such work. With about fifty girls collaborating, all\ndistricts had this most gracious aid; and a girl would not only watch\nand guard, but would also instruct, as far as practical, any such tot\nas had not had its first schooling. Such work by young girls still\nin school was", "of us; and I'm\njust going to _go_ to that child and try to bring a ray of comfort into\nthat young mind. That rum-guzzling Antor family!! _Ugh!!_\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nBut a city also has amusing sights; and our trio ran plump into that\nkind, just around a turn; for, standing on a soap box, shouting a\nhigh-sounding jargon of rapidly shot words, was Arthur Rankin, an\noriginal Organization lad; a crowd of boys, a", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", ", as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a _young_\ncrowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its\n\"why-not-do-it-now?\" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big\nMunicipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built),\nMarian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:--\n\n\"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.\"\n\n\"Balloon? Balloon", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you", "to\nfix thot barn door our old cow laid down against.\"\n\nHa, ha! What a circus our Organization had with such varying moods and\noutlooks! But, finally such a school was built; instructors brought in\nfrom surrounding towns; and Gadsby was as happy as a cat with a ball of\nyarn.\n\nAs Branton Hills found out what it can accomplish if it starts out with\nvigor and a will to win, our Organization thought of laying out a big\npark; furnishing an opportunity for small tots to romp and play on\ngr", "; and \"Station KBH\" was born! Though it\nis not important to follow it from now on, I will say that our vast\ncountry, by tuning in on KBH, found out a lot about this Utopia.\n\n\"You know that good old yarn,\" said Gadsby, \"about making so good a\nrat-trap that millions will tramp down your grass in making a path to\nyour front door.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n\nNow don't think that our famous Organization, having shown its worth on\nso many occasions, sat down", "quickly!_ Say that I want your Captain\nto notify my folks that Lillian is all right.\"\n\n\"Good gosh, Your Honor!! Is this tot your grandchild?\"\n\n\"Grandchild or no grandchild, _you dash to that box!!_\"\n\nAnd so, again, John Gadsby, Champion of Youth, had shown officialdom\nthat a child's brain and that of an adult vary as do a gigantic oak and\nits tiny acorn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\n\nMost of Gadsby's old Organization of Youth was", "actory conditions.\n\nSo this small town of Branton Hills was lazily snoozing amidst\nup-and-doing towns, as Youth's Champion, John Gadsby, took hold of it;\nand shook its dawdling, flabby body until its inhabitants thought a\ntornado had struck it. Call it tornado, volcano, military onslaught,\nor what you will, this town found that it had a bunch of kids who had\nwills that would admit of no snoozing; for that is Youth, on its\nforward", "municipality\nwhich has won acclaim, not only from its officials and inhabitants,\nbut from surrounding towns I found, in our young folks, an out-and-out\ninclination to assist; and you, today, can look upon it as labor in\nwhich your adult aid was but a small factor. So now, my Organization of\nYouth, if you will pass across this platform, your Mayor will hand you\nyour diplomas.\"\n\nNot in all Branton Hills' history had any boy or girl known such a\nthrill as upon winning that hard-won roll! And from solid banks", "location, so it\nwas finally built, on high land, with a charming vista across Branton\nHills' suburbs and distant hills; amongst which Gadsby's charity auto\nand bus trips took so many happy invalids on past hot days.\n\nNow it is only fair that our boys and girls of this famous Organization\nof Youth, should walk forward for an introduction to you. So I will\nbring forth such bright and loyal girls as Doris Johnson, Dorothy\nFitts, Lucy Donaldson, Marian Hopkins, Priscilla Standish, Abigail\nWor" ], [ "out as Branton Hills had known in all its history. Up at City\nHall awaiting arrivals of city officials, a big crowd sat; row upon\nrow of chairs which not only took up all floor room, but also many a\nsmall spot, in door-way or on a balcony in which a chair or stool could\nfind footing; and all who could not find such an opportunity willingly\nstood in back. Just as a group of officials sat down on that flag-bound\nplatform, distant throbbing of drums, and bright, snappy band music\ntold of Branton Hills", "Branton Hills\nmaintains for just such youths.\"\n\nAt this both row two and row four burst out in such a storm of\nhand-clapping that Gadsby found that this visit had shown his young\nfolks, from actual contact with a child without training, how important\nchild-raising is; and how proud a city is of such as act according to\nlaw.\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\n\nIn almost any big town, around Autumn, you will annually run across\nthat famous agricultural show known as a County Fair; and, as Branton\nHills had", "actorily.\nThis was, plainly, a condition which would call for much additional\nbuilding; which also brings additional tax inflow; so Branton Hills was\nrapidly growing into a most important community. So, at a School Board\nlunch, His Honor said:--\n\n\"I trust that now you will admit that what I said long ago about making\na city an attraction to tourists, is bringing daily confirmation. Oh,\nwhat a lot of politically blind city and town officials I could point\nout within a day's auto trip from Branton Hills! Many such an official,\n", "in Branton Hills' schools; for schooling, according to\nhim, did not consist only of books and black-boards. Hands also should\nknow how to construct various practical things in woodwork, plumbing,\nblacksmithing, masonry, and so forth; with thorough instruction\nin sanitation, and that most important of all youthful activity,\ngymnastics. For girls such a school could instruct in cooking, suit\nmaking, hat making, fancy work, art and loom-work; in fact, about any\nhandicraft that a girl might wish to study,", ", _human_; for it is a group of humanity\ngrowing up in daily contact; and if officials adopt as a slogan, \"all\nI can do,\" and not \"all I can grab,\" only its suburban boundary can\nlimit its growth. Branton Hills attracts thousands, annually. All\nof that influx looks for comforts, an opportunity to work, and good\nschools. Branton Hills has all that; and I want to say that all who\nvisit us, with thoughts of joining us, will find us holding out a glad\nhand; promising that all such fond outlooks", "outs, and\nband music, Branton Hills was put on aviation's map. Way, way up, so\nfar as to look as small as a toy, Harold put on a show of banking,\nrolling and diving, which told Gadsby that, still again, had Branton\nHills found profit in what its Organization of Youth, _and, now, its\nsmall kids_, had to say about improving a town.\n\nDuring that box-lunch picnic, many of our \"big girls\" brought so much\nfood to Marian that Dad and Ma had to stand guard against", "XXII\n\n\nBut what about Branton Hills' municipal affairs, right now? In two\nmonths it was to ballot on who should sit in past-Councilman Antor's\nchair; and a campaign was on which was actually sizzling. And in\nwhat a contrast to our city's start! For it has grown rapidly;\nand, in comparison to that day upon which a thousand ballots was\na big out-pouring of popular clamor now many politicians had City\nHall aspirations. And _who_ do you think was running for Council,", "who had\ngot it through Branton Hills' popular ballot. Now, any politician is a\nconvincing orator. (That is, you know, all that politics consists of!);\nand this big man, in contact with a visiting capitalist, looking for a\nhandout for his own district, got a donation of a thousand dollars. But\nthat wouldn't _start_ a public library; to say nothing of maintaining\nit. So, back in Branton Hills, again, our Organization was out, as\nusual, on its war-path.\n\nBranton Hills'", "downs; what growth\nin population. But, as I am this particular city's historian, _with\nstrict orthography controlling it_, this history will not rank, in\nvolubility, with any by an author who can sow, broadcast, all handy,\ncommon words which _continuously_ try to jump into it!\n\n\n\n\nXVI\n\n\nBranton Hills, now an up-to-today city, coming to that point of\nmotorizing all city apparatus, had just a last, solitary company\nof that class which an inhabitant frant", "good opportunity for oratory, as thousands,\nout for lunch, would stop, in passing. But, also, many a hall rang with\nplaudits as an antagonist won a point; but many a throng saw Gadsby's\ngood points, and plainly told him so by turning out voluminously at any\npoint at which his oratory was to flow. It was truly miraculous how\nthis man of shy disposition, found words in putting forth his plans for\nimproving Branton Hills, town of his birth. Many an orator has grown\nup from an", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "\n\nAs soon as it was shown by official count, Branton Hills was a riot,\nfrom City Hall to City limits; throngs tramping around, tossing hats\naloft; for a hard-working man had won what many thousands thought was\nfair and just.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\n\nAs soon as Gadsby's inauguration had put him in a position to do things\nwith authority, his first act was to start things moving on that big\nauditorium plan, for which many capitalists had bought bonds. Again\npublic opinion had a lot to", "bring forth old songs of our childhood,\nballads of courting days, or hymns and carols of Christmas; and can\nsuit all sorts of folks, in all sorts of moods; for a Spaniard,\nDutchman or Russian can find similar joy with a man from Italy, Norway\nor far away Brazil.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n\nBy now, Branton Hills was so proud of not only its \"smarting up,\" but\nalso of its startling growth, on that account, that an application was\nput forth for its incorporation as a city; a small", "of Branton Hills saw his\ncar racing hospitalwards, with Lady Gadsby fondly patting Nancy's\ntiny, cold hands, and saying just such loving things as a woman would,\nnaturally, to a young girl on such a trip. But Gadsby and Frank? Ah!\nPoor, half-crazy things! No car would do at all! _No, sir!!_ A car\nwas far too slow! And so, across lots, down into many a man's yard,\nand jumping high walls, shot two shadowy forms, arriving at that big\nh", ", for though Branton Hills' suburban country is\nglorious from March to August, it is also strong in its attractions\nthroughout Autumn, with its artistic colorings of fruits, pumpkins,\ncorn-shocks, hay-stacks and Fall blossoms. So Gadsby got a big\nmotor-coach company to run a bus a day, carrying, gratis, all poor or\nsickly folks who had a doctor's affidavit that such an outing would aid\nin curing ills arising from too constant in-door living;", "ranton Hills' first aircraft. To Gadsby's joy, amongst that bunch was\nHarold Thompson, an old Organization lad, who was known around town as\na chap who could do about anything calling for brains. As an airport\nis not laid out in a day, Harold got busy with paid aviators and soon\nwas piloting a craft without aid; and not only Branton Hills folks, but\nold aviators, saw in Harold, a \"bird-man\" of no small ability. And so\ntiny Marian's \"vision\" was a fact; just as \"big girl\"", "-up and wash-up month;\" for it was\na plain fact that, all about town, was many a shabby spot; a lot of\nbuildings could stand a good coat of paint, and yards raking up; thus\nshowing surrounding towns that not only _could_ Branton Hills \"doll\nup,\" but had a class of inhabitants who gladly would go at such a plan,\nand carry it through. So Gadsby got his \"gang\" out, to sally forth and\nany man or woman who did not jump, at first, at such a plan by vigorous", "back\nfrom many a visit to a _city_, and noting its ability in improving its\nliving conditions. So Gadsby thought of thus carrying an inkling to\nsuch capitalists as to how this stagnating town could claim a big spot\nupon our national map, which is now shown only in small, insignificant\nprint.\n\nAs a start, Branton Hills' \"Daily Post\" would carry a long story,\noutlining a list of factors for improving conditions. This it did; but\nit will always stay as a blot upon high minds and proud blood that", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "his first \"solo work!\"\n\nBut schools and parks do not fulfill all of a town's calls. Many minds\nof varying kinds will long for an opportunity for finding out things\nnot ordinarily taught in school. So Branton Hills' Public Library\nwas found too small. As it was now in a small back room in our High\nSchool, it should occupy its own building; down town, and handy for\nall; and with additional thousands of books and maps. Now, if you think\nGadsby and his youthful assistants stood aghast at such a gigantic\nproposition" ], [ "ms; and so\ntwist a thought around as to say what I wish with as much clarity as I\ncan.)\n\nSo, now to go on with this odd contraption:\n\nBy Autumn, a man who took his vacation in July, would hardly know his\ntown upon coming back, so thoroughly had thousands \"dug in\" to aid in\nits transformation.\n\n\"Boys,\" said Gadsby, \"you can pat your own backs, if you can't find\nanybody to do it for you. This city is proud of you. And, girls, just\nsing", "sigh told what a turmoil was going on in this\nyoung girl's mind. \"But I'm going on, and on and on with this night\ntalking until Norman is back again. Possibly a plan will turn up toward\nboth of us living down our past,----and our sorrow.\" And Gadsby, slowly\nplodding along towards his dimly lit mansion, thought of a slight\ntransposition of that scriptural quotation: \"And your sins, you adults,\nshall fall upon your offspring, unto your third and fourth--\"\n\n\"", "ddlings; for adult minds to pilot it around many pitfalls;\nand onward, _onward!!_ To a shining goal!!\" and Nancy's crown of rich\nbrown hair sank lovingly in Gadsby's lap.\n\nDuring this outburst Gadsby had sat dumb; but finally saying, proudly:--\n\n\"So, ho! My baby girl has grown up! Dolls and sand-digging tools\ndon't call, as of old. And small, dirty paws, and a tiny smudgy chin,\ntransform, almost in", "Oh, if a man would only think of his offspring having to carry on,\nlong past his last day! And of how hard it is for a boy or girl to\nstand up and proudly (?) claim that so-and-so 'was my Dad,' if all\nBranton Hills knows of that Dad's inglorious past. Poor kids!\" for\nyou know that Gadsby said, in this story's start, that \"a man should\nso carry on his daily affairs as to bring no word of admonition from\nanybody;\" for a man's doings should", "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "a man and woman start actually living. It's\nmiraculous, Paul, that's just what it is.\"\n\nAnd so it was; pairs and groups shaking hands and laughing, until\nfinally a big buxom woman sang out:--\n\n\"_Whoops!!_ It was a _wow_ of a grub-lay-out! It _was_ thot! But this\ndom thing I calls hoosband. Say! You grub-stuffin' varmint! Phwat's\nthat in your hat? A droom-stick,", "until, finally, a brilliant plan took form as John\nGadsby found Branton Hills' High School pupils waking up to Branton\nHills' sloth. Gadsby continually found this bright young bunch asking:--\n\n\"Aw! Why is this town so slow? It's nothing but a dry twig!!\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Gadsby; \"A dry twig! That's it! Many a living, blossoming\nbranch all around us, and this solitary dry twig, with a tag hanging\nfrom it, on which you will find", "was still missing, so that that big right hand might point skyward,\nto clinch that vow. And that blast was waiting for Norman! To anybody\nstanding around, it wasn't much of a blast; but it _was!_ It was a\nmighty concussion of T.N.T., coming as Mary, young, loving, praying\nMary, said, as his arms unwound from around that frail form:--\n\n\"Why, Norman! _Not drunk?_\"\n\n_God!!_ What flashing, shooting, sizzling sparks shot through", "required five and a half months of concentrated\nendeavor, with so many erasures and retrenchments that I tremble as\nI think of them. Of course anybody can write such a story. All that\nis needed is a piece of string tied from the E type-bar down to some\npart of the base of the typewriter. Then simply go ahead and type your\nstory. Incidentally, you should have some sort of a bromide preparation\nhandy, for use when the going gets rough, as it most assuredly will!\n\nBefore the book was in print, I was freely and", "'s part of it. God's parlor is awfully big, you know.\"\n\n\"_My_ parlor is awfully _small_; and not any bloss---- Oh! Wouldn't\nGod----?\"\n\nGadsby's hunch was now working, full tilt; and so, as this loving\nfamily man, having had four kids of his own, and this tot from a poor\nfamily with its \"awfully small\" parlor,--had trod this big glass\nbuilding's paths again and again; round and round, an almost monstrous\ns", "water. And I received one most scathing epistle from a\nlady (woman!) denouncing me as a \"genuine fake;\" (that paradox being\na most interesting one!), and ending by saying:--\"Everyone knows\nthat such a feat is impossible.\" All right. Then the impossible has\nbeen accomplished; (a paradox to equal hers!) Other criticism may be\ndirected at the Introduction; but this section of a story _also_ is not\npart of it. The author is entitled to it, in order properly to explain\nhis work. The story", "--\n\n\"Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as\nbig as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you\nsaw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an\ninquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which\nyou first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking\na small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at\nour Night", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "uch good as that which builds, or maintains hospitalization for all.\nA library, a school, a boys' or girls' club, a vacation facility, a\n\"chair\" of this or that in an institution of instruction,--all do much\nto build up a community. Both doctoring as a study for a young man, and\nnursing for a girl form most important parts of Mankind's activity.\n\nAnd so, just four months from that awful, but also happy day, Arthur\nRankin sat in a hammock with Priscilla, on Lady Standish'", "ing rings aloft; and as groups\nof bright, happy boys and girls trod past, to school, his plan rapidly\ntook form as follows:--\n\n\"Youth! What is it? Simply a start. A start of what? Why, of that most\nastounding of all human functions; thought. But man didn't start his\nbrain working. No. All that an adult can claim is a continuation, or\nan amplification of thoughts, dormant in his youth. Although a child's\nbrain can absorb instruction with an ability far surpassing that of", "have, in introducing them to you.\nLike many a book, it grows more and more interesting as the reader\nbecomes well acquainted with the characters.\n\n Los Angeles, California\n February, 1939\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n\nIf Youth, throughout all history, had had a champion to stand up for\nit; to show a doubting world that a child can think; and, possibly,\ndo it practically; you wouldn't constantly run across folks today\nwho claim that \"a child don't know anything.\" A child's brain starts\nfunctioning", "for\nlanding, \"tooth and claw\" on our pompous Councilman's son, if things\ndidn't turn out satisfactorily.\n\nVirginia didn't occupy that stand long; it was only a half-sobbing\naccount of a night at a dancing pavilion; and with a sob or two from a\nwoman or girl in that vast crowd. All Virginia said was:--\n\n\"Norman Antor said I was a cry-baby if I wouldn't drink with him.\nBut I said, 'All right", "? _What_ was Parson Brown in\nthat cabin for? Aha!! A lilac spray is moving; and, as our groups stand\nstock still, _look!_ Lucy Donaldson is coming out! Oh! _What_ a vision\nof girlish joy and glory!! And--and--and, ah! That lilac spray is\nmoving again! Hulloa! Bill Gadsby is coming out!!\n\nA Spring sun was slowly approaching its horizonward droop, shooting\nrays of gold down onto our gasping crowd, as Parson Brown said:--\n\n\"", "hungry child was oblivious to all around him. And I'll say\nthat our boys, in row four, had lumpy throats. But finally that big\nkindly man said:--\n\n\"Though taking things unlawfully is wrong, conditions can occur in\nwhich so young a culprit is not at fault. This young chap has had no\nbringing up, but has run wild. A child will not know right from wrong\nif not taught; and, as it is a primary animal instinct to obtain food\nin any way, I will simply put this boy in a school which", ". So, with such firm convictions in his\nmind, this upstanding man was constantly striving so to act that no\ncomplaint from man, woman or child should bring a word of disapproval.\nIn his mind, what a man might do was that man's affair only and could\nstain no Soul but his own. And his altruism taught that it is not\ndifficult to find many ways in which to bring joy to such as cannot,\nthrough physical disability, go out to look for it; and that only a\nsmall bit of joy, brought to a shut-" ], [ "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did", "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you", "a night school was a good thing; but four,\nwith a faint glow of financial wisdom, (a rarity in politics, today!)\nsaw no cash in sight for such an institution.\n\nBut Gadsby's famous Organization won again! Branton Hills did not\ncontain a family in which this Organization wasn't known; and many a\nsock was brought out from hiding, and many a sofa pillow cut into, to\naid _any_ plan in which this group had a part.\n\nBut, just as funds had grown to what Mayor Gadsby thought would fill\nall such", ", as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a _young_\ncrowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its\n\"why-not-do-it-now?\" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big\nMunicipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built),\nMarian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:--\n\n\"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.\"\n\n\"Balloon? Balloon", "\nup Gadsby's plan; for nothing so stirs up a youthful mind as an\nopportunity for accomplishing anything that adults cannot do. And did\nGadsby _know_ Youth? I'll say so! His two sons and girls, now in High\nor Grammar school, had taught him a thing or two; principal amongst\nwhich was that all-dominating fact that, at a not too far distant day,\nour young folks will occupy important vocational and also political\npositions, and will look back upon this, _our_ day; smiling kindly at", "quickly!_ Say that I want your Captain\nto notify my folks that Lillian is all right.\"\n\n\"Good gosh, Your Honor!! Is this tot your grandchild?\"\n\n\"Grandchild or no grandchild, _you dash to that box!!_\"\n\nAnd so, again, John Gadsby, Champion of Youth, had shown officialdom\nthat a child's brain and that of an adult vary as do a gigantic oak and\nits tiny acorn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\n\nMost of Gadsby's old Organization of Youth was", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "to\nfix thot barn door our old cow laid down against.\"\n\nHa, ha! What a circus our Organization had with such varying moods and\noutlooks! But, finally such a school was built; instructors brought in\nfrom surrounding towns; and Gadsby was as happy as a cat with a ball of\nyarn.\n\nAs Branton Hills found out what it can accomplish if it starts out with\nvigor and a will to win, our Organization thought of laying out a big\npark; furnishing an opportunity for small tots to romp and play on\ngr", "s just grand; but what will Papa say?\"\n\nNow Gadsby had known Lucy's family from boyhood, so said:--\n\n\"You inform your dad that at any sign of balking by him, I'll put HIM\nin Lucy Zoo, and pay a boy to prod him with a sharp stick, until his\napproval is in my hands.\" This brought such a rollicking laugh that a\nman mowing City Hall lawn had to laugh, too.\n\nNow, (Ah! But I can't avoid saying it!) our Organization was out again;", "(a part of\nGadsby's Organization of Youth's work, you know) struck up a bright\nmarch, not a glum physiognomy was found in all that big park.\n\nGadsby and Lucy had much curiosity in watching what such crashing\nmusic would do to various animals. At first a spirit akin to worry\nhad baboons, gorillas, and such, staring about, as still as so many\nposts; until, finding that no harm was coming from such sounds, soon\ntook to climbing and swinging again. Stags, yaks", "that though a growing\nyoung man might know a thing or two, making laws for a city was a man's\njob.\n\nSo, with a Mayoralty campaign on his hands, plus planning for that big\nauditorium, Gadsby was as busy as a fly around a syrup jug; for a mass\nof campaign mail had to go out; topics for orations thought up; and\ncontacts with his now truly important Organization of Youth, took so\nmany hours out of his days that his family hardly saw him, at all. Noon\nnaturally stood out as a", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", "you think is hit? Try to think of a lot of girls in\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth. No, it's not Sarah Young, nor Lucy\nDonaldson, nor Virginia Adams. It was brought to your historian in this\nway:--\n\nLady Gadsby and His Honor sat around his parlor lamp, His Honor\nnoticing that Lady G. was smiling, finally saying:--\n\n\"John.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh.\"\n\n\"Kathlyn and John Smith,----\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I said that Kathlyn", "actory conditions.\n\nSo this small town of Branton Hills was lazily snoozing amidst\nup-and-doing towns, as Youth's Champion, John Gadsby, took hold of it;\nand shook its dawdling, flabby body until its inhabitants thought a\ntornado had struck it. Call it tornado, volcano, military onslaught,\nor what you will, this town found that it had a bunch of kids who had\nwills that would admit of no snoozing; for that is Youth, on its\nforward", ", about which said city or town has\nnothing to say. It is that most important institution in which you put\na stamp on your mail and drop it into a slot, knowing that it will find\nits way across city or country to that man or woman who is waiting for\nit.\n\nBut how many young folks know _how_ this mail is put out so quickly,\nand with such guaranty against loss? Not many, I think, if you ask.\nSo Gadsby, holding up Youth as a Nation's most important function in\nits coming history, thought that any act", "; and \"Station KBH\" was born! Though it\nis not important to follow it from now on, I will say that our vast\ncountry, by tuning in on KBH, found out a lot about this Utopia.\n\n\"You know that good old yarn,\" said Gadsby, \"about making so good a\nrat-trap that millions will tramp down your grass in making a path to\nyour front door.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n\nNow don't think that our famous Organization, having shown its worth on\nso many occasions, sat down", ", City Councilman,\" would\nshow an anxiously waiting world how to run a city; though probably, I\nthink, how _not_ to run it.\n\nIt is truly surprising what a narrow mind, what a blind outlook a man,\nbrought up with practically no opposition to his boyhood wants, can\nattain; though brought into contact with indisputably important data\nfor improving his city. Our Organization boys thought Bill \"a bit off;\"\nbut Gadsby would only laugh at his blasts against paying out city\nfunds; for, you know, all bombs don'" ], [ "cat, knows that childhood can\nshow us that our fighting, our policy of \"a tooth for a tooth,\" is\nabominably wrong.\n\nSo, now to start our story:--\n\nBranton Hills was a small town in a rich agricultural district; and\nhaving many a possibility for growth. But, through a sort of smug\nsatisfaction with conditions of long ago, had no thought of improving\nsuch important adjuncts as roads; putting up public buildings, nor\nlaying out parks; in fact a dormant, slowly dying community. So\nsatisfactory was its", "'s mansion, was soon far, far back.\nA robin or two was hopping about on His Honor's lawn, looking for a\nsquirming lunch; Lady was taking short walks with Nancy; Kathlyn having\nto go back to work in our big hospital. Lilac, syringa, narcissus,\ntulips, hyacinths burst out in a riot of bloom; and a bright warm Sun\nbrought joy to all. And so this history found His Honor on his porch\nwith his \"Post\" as a young lad, coming up,", "Nancy; tiny, darling Nancy, his baby girl. For,\nduring that noisy carnival, folks saw (or _thought_ so, you know), a\nbig bird with long shanks and a monstrous bill, circling round and\nround that small bungalow's roof, plainly looking for a spot to land\non. Lady Gadsby and old Doctor Wilkins saw it, too, and told Nancy that\nthat big hospital which our old Organization had built, was holding\na room for instant occupancy; and, as that big bird daily swung down", "that a stir was occurring in back of that boat\nlanding, with its small shack for storing oars and such. If our big\ncrowd was laughing and talking up to now, it _quit!_ And quit mighty\nquickly, too! If you want to hold a crowd, just mystify it. Old Lady\nFlanagan was starting to shout about \"this phony stuff,\" but Old Man\nFlanagan said:--\n\n\"Shut up! You ain't part of this show!\"\n\nNancy was actually hopping up and down, but Kathlyn", "girl is all right, so I'll go.\"\n\nAnd so it was, all around town. Nobody could fathom it.\n\nLilac Hill was as charming a spot as any that our big City Park\ncould boast. Though known as a hill, it was but a slight knoll with\nsurroundings of lilac shrubs, which, in May would always show a riot\nof bloom; this knoll sloping down to a pond, with islands, boats and\naquatic plants. Lilac Hill had known many a picnic and similar outings;", "of Branton Hills saw his\ncar racing hospitalwards, with Lady Gadsby fondly patting Nancy's\ntiny, cold hands, and saying just such loving things as a woman would,\nnaturally, to a young girl on such a trip. But Gadsby and Frank? Ah!\nPoor, half-crazy things! No car would do at all! _No, sir!!_ A car\nwas far too slow! And so, across lots, down into many a man's yard,\nand jumping high walls, shot two shadowy forms, arriving at that big\nh", "still in town, though,\nas you know, grown up. So, on a Spring day, all of its forty boys and\nas many girls got most mystifying cards, saying:--\n\n\"Kindly go to Lilac Hill on May sixth, at four o'clock. IMPORTANT!\nIMPORTANT! IMPORTANT!!\" That was all. Not a word to show its origin. No\nhandwriting. Just a small, plain card in ordinary printing.\n\nNot only that old Organization, but His Honor, Lady Gadsby, Old Tom\nYoung, Tom Donaldson, Nina", "at His\nHonor's mansion, during which that fancy loaf of frosting, raisins and\ncitron was cut; (and which many a girl put in a pillow that night!);\nnor of that big bridal bunch of blossoms, which was thrown from a\nstairway into a happy group of hopping, jumping, laughing girls. (But\nI will say,--shhhh! that Kathlyn caught it!); nor anything of Nancy\nand Frank's thrilling trip to Branton Hills' big railway station, in\nthat gift car which Nancy thought", "a big park, which you know all about, right in front of\nNancy's and Frank's small bungalow, it was a most natural spot for\nholding it. And so, as this happy pair's third Autumn got around,\nstirring activity in that big park also got a-going; for railings for\nstockyards don't grow all built; yards and yards of brown canvas don't\njust blow into a park; nor do \"hot dog\" and popcorn stands jump up from\nnothing. And Nancy, rocking on that b", "\n\nSo, as on similar occasions months ago, word that land was again\ncropping up in Gadsby's mind, brought out a flood of landlords with\nvacant lots, all looking forward to disposing of a dump worth two\ndollars and a half, for fifty thousand. Now an airport must occupy a\nvast lot of land, so cannot stand right in a City's shopping district;\nbut finally a big tract was bought, and right in back of tiny Marian's\nback yard! Instantly, City Hall was full of applicants for flying\nB", "spirits way, way down into a sorrowful slump. Black,\nugly, rumbling clouds hung aggravatingly about in a saturation of mist,\nrain and fog; and roads and lawns got such a washing that Nancy said:--\n\n\"Anyway, if I can't _walk_ across that front church yard, I can _swim\nit!!_\"\n\nThat was Nancy; a small bunch of inborn good humor; and I'll say, right\nnow, that it _took_ good humor, and lots of it, to look upon conditions", "ruining\nour paving,\" Gadsby thought that was but small talk, for paving,\nanyway, can't last for long. But, that _is_ a glorious spot, way out\namongst our hills!\n\nGadsby took his party to a room in City Hall from which that burning\nfactory was in plain sight; and as Nancy and Kathlyn stood watching\nthat awful sight a big wall, crashing down, had a crowd rushing to that\nspot.\n\nA man's form was brought out to a patrol wagon; and a boy, rushing\np", "was chasing that car in from our\nsuburbs, says both horribly drunk, Antor grazing four cars, Madam\nshouting and singing wildly, with Grant arriving too tardily to ward\noff that final crash.'\"\n\nNow Lady Gadsby was, first of all, a woman; and so got up quickly,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Oh!! I must go down to poor young Mary, _right off!_\" and Gadsby sat\ntapping his foot, saying:--\n\n\"So Antor's pantry probably still holds that stuff. Too bad", ",\ndown, down, almost grazing that small roof, Frank, poor chap, as shaky\nas at his church ritual, thirty months ago, staid away from Radio\nStation KBH, and stuck to that small bungalow as a fly sticks around a\nsugar bowl.\n\nFinally, on a crisp Autumn night, that soaring bird shot straight down\nwith such an assuring swoop, that old Doc Wilkins, indoors with Nancy,\nsaw it and said, quickly:--\n\n\"On your way, Nancy girl!!\" and that part", "of imaginary origin!) as Pastor Brown stood, book in\nhand. Now I won't go through with all that was said; nor say anything\nabout Nancy's tiny, warm, soft hand as it was put in Frank's big clumsy\nfist by Pastor Brown. Nor about that first Holy kiss; nor that long,\nmighty roar of organ music, as our happy, blushing pair trod that long\npathway, doorwards. You know all about it, anyway, as most such rituals\nfollow a standard custom. Nor shall I go into that happy hour", "'s so. Girls do fuss about dolls. My girls did.\"\n\n\"How many dolls has your girls got?\"\n\n\"Ha, ha! Not any, now. My girls all got grown up and big.\"\n\nDuring this calm, happy talk, a patrolman, coming up, said:--\n\n\"Shall I stick around, Your Honor? Any kidnapping facts?\"\n\n\"I don't know, just now. Wait around about an hour, and drop in again.\"\n\nSo His Honor, Mayor of Branton Hills, and Childhood sat on that grass", "a small,\ndainty lunch, Kathlyn told of this troth. In a day or two about all\nBranton Hills' young girlhood had, on rushing in, told Kathlyn what a\ngrand chap John was; and all that town's young manhood had told John\nsimilar things about Kathlyn. So, as this is a jumpy sort of a story,\nanyway, why not skip months of happy ardor, and find how this tying of\nan additional knot in our Mayor's family will turn out? You know that\nKathlyn don'", "do not grow upon shrubs, you know; and girls who work all day\nmust hurry at night, at manipulating a thousand or so things which go\ntowards adorning our girls of today.\n\nNow, an approach to a young girl's \"big day\" is not always as that\ngirl might wish. Small things bob up, which, at first, look actually\ndisastrous for a joyous occasion; and for Nancy and Frank, just such a\nthing did bob up; for, on May Third, a pouring rain and whistling wind\nput Branton Hills'", "stood calmly\nwatching; for this studious girl, way up in an \"ology\" or two, knows\nthat, by slow, thoughtful watching, you can gain much, as against\nworking up a wild, panicky condition. Lady Gadsby said again and again:\n\"What _is_ going on?\" but Nina Adams said: \"You ought to know that\ntoday, anything can----\"\n\nBut _look again!!_ From in back of that boat landing, a big fairy float\nis coming! Slowly,--slowly--slowly; a cabin amid", "stay _on solid ground!_\"\n\n\"Aw, Ma! Harold says----\"\n\nBut a big bus, roaring by, cut it short.\n\n * * * * *\n\nJust a month from this, His Honor, sitting on his porch with his\n\"Morning Post\" ran across a short bit, just two rows of print, which\nhad him calling \"Hi!\" which Lady Gadsby took as a signal for a quick\ntrip to that porch.\n\n\"All right, Your Honor! On duty! What's up?\"\n\n" ], [ "\"Organization\" had \"waylaid,\" so to say, practically half of Branton\nHills' cash kings; and had so won out, through that commonly known\n\"pull\" upon an adult by a child asking for what plainly is worthy,\nthat his mail brought not only cash, but two rich landlords put at his\ndisposal, tracts of land \"for any form of occupancy which can, in any\nway, aid our town.\" This land Gadsby's Organization promptly put into\ngrowing farm products for gratis distribution to Branton Hills' poor;\n", "municipality\nwhich has won acclaim, not only from its officials and inhabitants,\nbut from surrounding towns I found, in our young folks, an out-and-out\ninclination to assist; and you, today, can look upon it as labor in\nwhich your adult aid was but a small factor. So now, my Organization of\nYouth, if you will pass across this platform, your Mayor will hand you\nyour diplomas.\"\n\nNot in all Branton Hills' history had any boy or girl known such a\nthrill as upon winning that hard-won roll! And from solid banks", "that ball-bat arm can curl around your tiny baby as softly\nas a down pillow. Aw, darling! _Don't_ say you can't do anything;\nfor _I_ know you can. How about our old Organization of Youth days?\nYou,----\"\n\nAnd Nancy, now laughing, said, gaily:--\n\n\"Oho! Our old Organization! What fun it was! But, Daddy, I don't know\nof any young crowd following us up.\"\n\n\"No. Our young folks of today think such things too much work;\" and,\nas", "swish across clouds and sky. Bands should play; boys and\ngirls march and sing; and a vast crowd would pour into City Hall. As on\nsimilar occasions, a bad rush for chairs was apt to occur, a company\nof military units should occupy all important points, to hold back\nanything simulating a jam.\n\nNow, if you think our Organization wasn't all agog and wild, with\nyouthful anticipation at having a diploma for work out of school\nhours, you just don't know Youth. Boys and girls, though not full\n", "not\na man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for\ndormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind?\nHardly! So Gadsby took into council about forty boys of his vicinity\nand built up an Organization of Youth. Also about as many girls who had\nknown what it is, compulsorily to pass up many a picnic, or various\nforms of sport, through a lack of public park land. So this strong,\nvigorous combination of both youth and untiring activity, avidly took", "Now what about this\nsoliciting. Who is back of you?\"\n\n\"Branton Hills' Organization of Youth; Part Two, sir.\"\n\n\"Branton Hills Org----Ha, ha! Upon my word! Who is starting this\ngroup?\"\n\nMary, coming out from His Honor's parlor, said:--\n\n\"Oh, I forgot to notify you of this. Norman has got about fifty kids\nfrom Grammar School boys and girls, anxious to follow in _your_\nOrganization's foot-prints.\"\n\nWas Gadsby happy? Did", "t burst; you occasionally find a\n\"dud.\"\n\nBut this furor for fixing up rattly doors or shaky windows didn't last;\nfor Old Bill's oratory found favor with a bunch of his old tight-wads,\nwho actually thought of inaugurating a campaign against Gadsby's\nOrganization of Youth. As soon as this was known about town, that\nmythical pot, known as Public Opinion, was boiling furiously. A vast\nmajority stood back of Gadsby and his kids; so, old Bill's ranks could", "and which is not in our\nstandard school curriculum. But as Gadsby thought of such a school,\nno way for backing it financially was in sight. Town funds naturally,\nshould carry it along; but town funds and Town Councils do not always\nform what you might call synonymous words. So it was compulsory that\ncash should actually \"drop into his lap,\" via a continuation of\nsolicitations by his now grandly functioning Organization of Youth.\nSo, out again trod that bunch of bright, happy kids, putting forth\nsuch plain, straightforward facts as to what", ", until a particularly bright\ngirl in our Organization, thought out a plan for caring for infants of\nfolks who had to go out, to work; and this bright kid soon had a group\nof girls who would join, during vacation, in voluntarily giving up four\ndays a month to such work. With about fifty girls collaborating, all\ndistricts had this most gracious aid; and a girl would not only watch\nand guard, but would also instruct, as far as practical, any such tot\nas had not had its first schooling. Such work by young girls still\nin school was", "\nbut, now having grown a bit from such childish youths as had, at first\nstood in its ranks, a boy, now approaching manhood, and a girl, now a\nyoung woman, could solicit funds with an ability to talk knowingly in\nfavor of any factor that a hanging-back contributor could bring up in\nrunning down such a proposition. You can always count on finding that\nclass in any city or town upon any occasion for public works; but I can\nproudly say that many saw good in our Organization's plan; and Lucy\nsoon found that out,", "to\nfix thot barn door our old cow laid down against.\"\n\nHa, ha! What a circus our Organization had with such varying moods and\noutlooks! But, finally such a school was built; instructors brought in\nfrom surrounding towns; and Gadsby was as happy as a cat with a ball of\nyarn.\n\nAs Branton Hills found out what it can accomplish if it starts out with\nvigor and a will to win, our Organization thought of laying out a big\npark; furnishing an opportunity for small tots to romp and play on\ngr", "a night school was a good thing; but four,\nwith a faint glow of financial wisdom, (a rarity in politics, today!)\nsaw no cash in sight for such an institution.\n\nBut Gadsby's famous Organization won again! Branton Hills did not\ncontain a family in which this Organization wasn't known; and many a\nsock was brought out from hiding, and many a sofa pillow cut into, to\naid _any_ plan in which this group had a part.\n\nBut, just as funds had grown to what Mayor Gadsby thought would fill\nall such", "this grand church affair by its common, customary\nnomination; but that word can't possibly crowd into _this_ story. It\nmust pass simply as a church ritual.\n\nAll right; so far, so good. So, along into April all Branton Hills was\nagog, awaiting information as to that actual day; or, I should say,\nnight.\n\nGadsby's old Organization of Youth was still as loyal to all in it as\nit was, way back in days of its formation; days of almost constantly\nrunning around town, soliciting funds for many a", ", in voting for bright, vitalic Youth.)\n\n\n\n\nXXVII\n\n\nWidow Adams was sitting up again, for it was way past midnight,\nand Virginia was out. Many months ago Virginia was also out, and\nwas brought back, unconscious. So now Nina was again sitting up,\nfor Virginia was not a night-owl sort of a girl. Finally, around\ntwo o'clock, Nina couldn't stand it, and had to call in a passing\npatrolman. Now this patrolman was an original Organization of Youth\nboy, and had always known Nina", "; and \"Station KBH\" was born! Though it\nis not important to follow it from now on, I will say that our vast\ncountry, by tuning in on KBH, found out a lot about this Utopia.\n\n\"You know that good old yarn,\" said Gadsby, \"about making so good a\nrat-trap that millions will tramp down your grass in making a path to\nyour front door.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n\nNow don't think that our famous Organization, having shown its worth on\nso many occasions, sat down", "(a part of\nGadsby's Organization of Youth's work, you know) struck up a bright\nmarch, not a glum physiognomy was found in all that big park.\n\nGadsby and Lucy had much curiosity in watching what such crashing\nmusic would do to various animals. At first a spirit akin to worry\nhad baboons, gorillas, and such, staring about, as still as so many\nposts; until, finding that no harm was coming from such sounds, soon\ntook to climbing and swinging again. Stags, yaks", "quickly!_ Say that I want your Captain\nto notify my folks that Lillian is all right.\"\n\n\"Good gosh, Your Honor!! Is this tot your grandchild?\"\n\n\"Grandchild or no grandchild, _you dash to that box!!_\"\n\nAnd so, again, John Gadsby, Champion of Youth, had shown officialdom\nthat a child's brain and that of an adult vary as do a gigantic oak and\nits tiny acorn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII\n\n\nMost of Gadsby's old Organization of Youth was", "ackling twig, at night. It is a city of _humans_; animals, if you\nwish, but with a gift from On High of a _brain_, so far apart from all\ndumb animals as to allow us to talk about our public affairs calmly and\nthoughtfully. All this Night School rumpus is foolish. Naturally, what\nis taught in such a school is an important factor; so I want to find\nout from our Organization----\"\n\nAt this point, old Bill Simpkins got up, with:\n\n\"This Organization of Youth stuff puts", "\nYouth and no adult has half a show against it! But two still hung on;\nclinging to a sort of fond fantasy that Gadsby, not naturally a public\nsort of man, might voluntarily drop out. But, had Gadsby so much as\nthought of such an action, his Organization would quickly laugh it to\nscorn.\n\n\"Why, good gracious!\" said Frank Morgan, \"if _anybody_ should sit in\nthat Mayor's chair in City Hall, it's you! Just look at what you did to\nboost Branton Hills! Until you", "with:--\n\n\"Ha, Bill! You thinka your man can worka all right, firsta day, huh?\nYou talka crazy so much as a fool! I laugha tinkin' of you startin' on\na patcha for my boota! You lasta just a half hour. Thisa library all\nrighta. This town too mucha what I call tight-wad!\"\n\nOh, hum!! It's a tough job making old dogs do tricks. But our\nOrganization was now holding almost daily sittings, and soon a\nbright" ] ]

[ "What's the name of Gadsby's hometown?", "What is the town's population at the end?", "What does the narrator complain about constantly?", "What group of people does Gadsby rally behind to build civic spirit?", "In what year does Gadsby begin?", "What is the town's population at the beginning?", "Near the end, what do members of Gadsby's organization receive?", "Who is president of the United States at the end?", "How many parts is the narration divided into?", "What is John Gadsby's hometown?", "What organization is John Gadsby rallying the young people to form?", "What does Gadsby become by the end?", "During which President's administration is the story set in?", "Who is writing the story?", "What happened to Branton Hills?", "What is the purpose of the Organization of Youth?", "What style of writing does the narrator use?", "What do the members of Gadsby's army receive?", "How old is John Gadsby?", "Which war took place during this story?", "Who was the character who rallied the city to form the \"Organization of Youth\"?", "Who is the president during the duration of the story?", "Who is the narrator of the story?", "What was the purpose of the \"Organization of Youth\"?", "How much did Branton Hills population increase?", "Toward the second half of the book, what is the main point of the story?", "Why did Gadsby help form the \"Organization of Youth\"?", "Where did the story take place?", "What did the \"Organization of Youth\" receive for their hard work?" ]

[ [ "Branton Hills. ", "Branton Hills. " ], [ "60,000.", "60,000" ], [ "His poor writing skills. ", "His poor writing skills." ], [ "The city's young people. ", "Organization of Youth" ], [ "1906. ", "1906" ], [ "2,000.", "2,000" ], [ "Diplomas. ", "diplomas" ], [ "Warren G. Harding. ", "Warren G Harding" ], [ "Two parts. ", "two parts" ], [ "Branton Hills", "Branton Hills. " ], [ "Organization of Youth", "An Organization of Youth." ], [ "Mayor", "Mayor." ], [ "Warren G. Harding", "President Harding. " ], [ "An un-named narrator.", "The story is written by an unknown narrator." ], [ "It grows from 2,000 to 60,000 people and becomes a thriving city.", "It was stagnant " ], [ "To build civic spirit and improve living standards.", "To improve the way of living and civic spirit" ], [ "Circumlocution", "Natural and circumlocution " ], [ "Diplomas of honor", "Diplomas." ], [ "Fifty", "fifty" ], [ "World War I", "World War 1" ], [ "John Gadsby", "John Gadsby." ], [ "Warren G. Harding", "President Harding. " ], [ "Anonymous", "An anonymous narrator" ], [ "To boost spirits and improve living standards.", "Build civic spirit" ], [ "More than 20x.", "40,000" ], [ "To learn more about the characters in Branton Hills", "Town characters" ], [ "He was shocked at how his hometown was declining.", "To improve the living standards of the town and rally the civic spirit of the pepople. " ], [ "Branton Hills", "Branton Hills." ], [ "Medals", "Diplomas." ] ]

[ [ "surprize me!\" cries Mrs. Ellison. \"Sure, you are not in earnest?\"\n\n\"Indeed, madam,\" returned he, \"I am seriously in earnest. And, what is\nmore, I am convinced she would of her own accord refuse to go.\"\n\n\"Now, madam,\" said Mrs. Ellison, \"you are to answer for yourself: and\nI will for your husband, that, if you have a desire to go, he will not\nrefuse you.\"\n\n\"I hope, madam,\" answered Amelia with great gravity, \"", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", ".\n\n_In which Amelia visits her husband._\n\n\nAmelia, after much anxious thinking, in which she sometimes flattered\nherself that her husband was less guilty than she had at first imagined\nhim, and that he had some good excuse to make for himself (for, indeed,\nshe was not so able as willing to make one for him), at length\nresolved to set out for the bailiff's castle. Having therefore strictly\nrecommended the care of her children to her good landlady, she sent for\na hackney coach, and ordered the coachman to drive", ", doth my Amelia think I\ncould be prevailed on to leave her? No, my Amelia, he is the only man on\nearth who could have prevailed on me; but I know his house, his purse,\nhis protection, will be all at your command. And as for any dislike\nyou have conceived to his wife, let not that be any objection; for I\nam convinced he will not suffer her to insult you; besides, she is\nextremely well bred, and, how much soever she may hate you in her heart,\nshe will", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "Booth and his wife, the moment their companion was gone, sat down to\nsupper on a piece of cold meat, the remains of their dinner. After\nwhich, over a pint of wine, they entertained themselves for a while with\nthe ridiculous behaviour of their visitant. But Amelia, declaring she\nrather saw her as the object of pity than anger, turned the discourse\nto pleasanter topics. The little actions of their children, the former\nscenes and future prospects of their life, furnished them with many\npleasant ideas; and the contemplation of Amelia's", "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "ife.\"\n\n\"And you are indeed his wife, madam?\" cries Mrs. Bailiff, a little\nsoftened.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, and upon my honour,\" answers Amelia.\n\n\"If this be the case,\" cries the other, \"you may walk up-stairs if you\nplease. Heaven forbid I should part man and wife! Indeed, I think they\ncan never be too much together. But I never will suffer any bad doings\nin my house, nor any of the town ladies to come to gentlemen here.\"\n\nAmelia answered that", "of my husband? go\nthen, purchase them at my expence. You will pay a few sighs, perhaps a\nfew tears, at parting, and then new scenes will drive away the thoughts\nof poor Amelia from your bosom; but what assistance shall I have in my\naffliction? not that any change of scene could drive you one moment from\nmy remembrance; yet here every object I behold will place your loved\nidea in the liveliest manner before my eyes. This is the bed in which\nyou have reposed; that is the chair on which you sat.", "\nit was made Dido fall in love with AEneas?\"\n\n\"Nay, dear sir,\" said Amelia, \"do not rally me so unmercifully; think\nwhere my poor husband is now.\"\n\n\"He is,\" answered the doctor, \"where I will presently be with him.\nIn the mean time, do you pack up everything in order for your journey\nto-morrow; for if you are wise, you will not trust your husband a day\nlonger in this town--therefore to packing.\"\n\nAmelia promised she would, though indeed she", "frightened by the former; and she soon after took\nleave of her husband to go in quest of the doctor, who, as Amelia\nhad heard that morning, was expected in town that very day, which was\nsomewhat sooner than he had intended at his departure.\n\nBefore she went, however, she left a strict charge with the bailiff,\nwho ushered her very civilly downstairs, that if one Colonel James came\nthere to enquire for her husband he should deny that he was there.\n\nShe then departed; and the bailiff immediately gave a very strict charge\nto his wife", ", and both mutually\npromised to visit each other.\n\nThe scenes which had past the preceding night and that morning had so\nconfused Amelia's thoughts, that, in the hurry in which she was carried\noff by Mrs. James, she had entirely forgot her appointment with Dr\nHarrison. When she was informed at her return home that the doctor had\nbeen to wait upon her, and had expressed some anger at her being gone\nout, she became greatly uneasy, and begged of her husband to go to the\ndoctor's lodgings and make her ap", "the house, and deposited in the\nentry, where I had not lain long before I was again removed and packed\nup in a cart in order to be sent five miles into the country; for I\nheard the orders given as I lay in the entry; and there I likewise heard\nthat Amelia and her mother were to follow me the next morning.\n\n\"I was unloaded from my cart, and set down with the rest of the lumber\nin a great hall. Here I remained above three hours, impatiently waiting\nfor the evening, when I determined to quit a posture which", "with\nextraordinary good humour, and opened his heart and cellars, I will not\ndetermine; but he gave them so hearty a welcome, and they were all so\npleased with each other, that Amelia, for that one night, trusted the\ncare of her children to the woman where they lodged, nor did the company\nrise from table till the clock struck eleven.\n\nThey then separated. Amelia and Booth, having been set down at their\nlodgings, retired into each other's arms; nor did Booth that evening, by\nthe doctor'", "James now came to pay a morning's visit to Amelia. She entered\nthe room with her usual gaiety, and after a slight preface, addressing\nherself to Booth, said she had been quarrelling with her husband on his\naccount. \"I know not,\" said she, \"what he means by thinking of sending\nyou the Lord knows whither. I have insisted on his asking something for\nyou nearer home; and it would be the hardest thing in the world if he\nshould not obtain it. Are we resolved never to encourage merit; but to\nthrow away all", ". Harris's, and that the whole town said he was shortly\nto be married to Amelia.\n\n\"I now soon perceived how much superior my love for Amelia was to every\nother passion; poor Nancy's idea disappeared in a moment; I quitted the\ndear lifeless corpse, over which I had shed a thousand tears, left the\ncare of her funeral to others, and posted, I may almost say flew, back\nto Amelia, and alighted at the doctor's house, as he had desired me in\nhis letter.\n\n\"The good man present", "which we left soon after and came to London. Here we rested only two\ndays, and then, taking leave of our fellow-travellers, we set out for\nWiltshire, my wife being so impatient to see the child which she had\nleft behind her, that the child she carried with her was almost killed\nwith the fatigue of the journey.\n\n\"We arrived at our inn late in the evening. Amelia, though she had no\ngreat reason to be pleased with any part of her sister's behaviour,\nresolved to behave to her as if nothing wrong had ever happened.", "Booth immediately ran up-stairs to his Amelia; between\nwhom I shall not attempt to describe the meeting. Nothing certainly was\never more tender or more joyful. This, however, I will observe, that a\nvery few of these exquisite moments, of which the best minds only are\ncapable, do in reality over-balance the longest enjoyments which can\never fall to the lot of the worst.\n\nWhilst Booth and his wife were feasting their souls with the most\ndelicious mutual endearments, the doctor was fallen to play with the two\nlittle children", "wed of\nme, or the many bitter curses which she denounced against me, if I ever\nproved a bad husband to so sweet a young lady.\n\n\"I so well improved the hint given me by Amelia, that the old woman had\nno doubt of our being really married; and, comforting herself that, if\nit was not as well as it might have been, yet madam had enough for us\nboth, and that happiness did not always depend on great riches, she\nbegan to rail at the old lady for having turned us out of doors, which\nI scar" ], [ "rank, and the numberless addresses which were made her by men of\ngreat fortune, prevented my aspiring at the possession of those charms\nwhich seemed so absolutely out of my reach. However it was, I assure\nyou the accident which deprived her of the admiration of others made the\nfirst great impression on my heart in her favour. The injury done to\nher beauty by the overturning of a chaise, by which, as you may well\nremember, her lovely nose was beat all to pieces, gave me an assurance\nthat the woman who had been so much adored for the", "madam, what she may do with her head, but I am\nconvinced she will never more turn up her nose at her betters.' Another\ncried, 'What a very proper match might now be made between Amelia and a\ncertain captain,' who had unfortunately received an injury in the same\npart, though from no shameful cause. Many other sarcasms were thrown\nout, very unworthy to be repeated. I was hurt with perceiving so much\nmalice in human shape, and cried out very bluntly, Indeed, ladies, you\nneed not express such satisfaction", "at poor Miss Emily's accident; for\nshe will still be the handsomest woman in England. This speech of mine\nwas afterwards variously repeated, by some to my honour, and by others\nrepresented in a contrary light; indeed, it was often reported to be\nmuch ruder than it was. However, it at length reached Amelia's ears.\nShe said she was very much obliged to me, since I could have so much\ncompassion for her as to be rude to a lady on her account.\n\n\"About a month after the accident, when Amelia", "side. Amelia had some\ndifficulty to conquer the effects of her own surprize on this occasion;\nfor a more ghastly and horrible sight than the bed presented could not\nbe conceived.\n\nAmelia sent Booth to call up the maid of the house, in order to lend\nher assistance; but before his return Mrs. Atkinson began to come to\nherself; and soon after, to the inexpressible joy of the serjeant, it\nwas discovered she had no wound. Indeed, the delicate nose of Amelia\nsoon made", "ly, and almost breathless, rushed into the room where she\nthen was with her children.\n\nThis figure Amelia soon recognised to be Mrs. Atkinson, though indeed\nshe was so disguised that at her first entrance Amelia scarce knew her.\nHer eyes were sunk in her head, her hair dishevelled, and not only her\ndress but every feature in her face was in the utmost disorder.\n\nAmelia was greatly shocked at this sight, and the little girl was much\nfrightened; as for the boy, he immediately knew her, and, running", "you think, Miss Matthews, that the misfortune of my Amelia was\ncapable of any aggravation? I assure you, she hath often told me it\nwas aggravated with a circumstance which outweighed all the other\ningredients. This was the cruel insults she received from some of her\nmost intimate acquaintance, several of whom, after many distortions and\ngrimaces, have turned their heads aside, unable to support their secret\ntriumph, and burst into a loud laugh in her hearing.\"\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried Miss Matt", ", Amelia began gently to\nchide me for having concealed my illness from her; for, in three letters\nwhich I had writ her since the accident had happened, there was not\nthe least mention of it, or any hint given by which she could possibly\nconclude I was otherwise than in perfect health. And when I had excused\nmyself, by assigning the true reason, she cried--'O Mr. Booth! and do\nyou know so little of your Amelia as to think I could or would survive\nyou? Would it not be better for one dreadful sight to break my", "vellous, and was constantly the\nlittle hero of his own tale. This made him very entertaining to\nAmelia, who, of all the persons in the world, hath the truest taste and\nenjoyment of the ridiculous; for, whilst no one sooner discovers it in\nthe character of another, no one so well conceals her knowledge of it\nfrom the ridiculous person. I cannot help mentioning a sentiment of hers\non this head, as I think it doth her great honour. 'If I had the same\nneglect,' said she, 'for ridiculous people with the gener", "was doing more than all the friendship and\ngood-breeding in the world required; but, indeed, as I had met you in no\npublic place, I really thought you was ill.\"\n\n\"How can you mention public places to me,\" said Amelia, \"when you can\nhardly be a stranger to my present situation? Did you not know, madam,\nthat I was ruined?\" \"No, indeed, madam, did I not,\" replied Mrs. James;\n\"I am sure I should have been highly concerned if! had.\" \"Why, sure,\nmy dear,\" cries", "which they were\nthen engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now\ndeclared she remembered his voice and features perfectly well, and was\nthoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his\nnot having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her\ndeclared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth\ninto some very satirical invectives against that lady, and declared she\nhad the art, as well as the wickedness, of the devil himself.\n\nMany", "any change of his fortune, nor time,\nnor age, nor sickness, nor any accident, can ever alter; but who will\nesteem, will love, and doat on him for ever.\" So saying, she flung her\nsnowy arms about his neck, and gave him a caress so tender, that it\nseemed almost to balance all the malice of his fate.\n\nAnd, indeed, the behaviour of Amelia would have made him completely\nhappy, in defiance of all adverse circumstances, had it not been for\nthose bitter ingredients which he himself had thrown", "the surgeon, he very well accounted for them from\na motive too obvious to be mentioned. From these declarations of\nher brother, and the interposition of her friends, and, above all, I\nbelieve, from that vast vent which she had given to her fright, Miss\nBath seemed a little pacified: Amelia, therefore, at last prevailed;\nand, as terror abated, curiosity became the superior passion. I\ntherefore now began to enquire what had occasioned that accident whence\nall the uproar arose.\n\n\"The major took me", "it in her favour.\"\n\n\"Well,\" cries the lady, \"I will allow you to call them blind; but Miss\nOsborne was a charming girl.\"\n\n\"She certainly was handsome,\" answered he, \"and a very considerable\nfortune; so I thought my Amelia would have little difficulty in\nbelieving me when I fixed on her as my mistress. And I concluded that my\nthus placing my affections on her known enemy would be the surest method\nof eradicating every tender idea with which I had been ever honoured by\nAmelia.\n\n\"", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "when she was\nperfectly recovered, about nine in the evening, when she and her husband\nwere just going to supper, she heard a most violent thundering at the\ndoor, and presently after a rustling of silk upon her staircase; at the\nsame time a female voice cried out pretty loud, \"Bless me! what, am I to\nclimb up another pair of stairs?\" upon which Amelia, who well knew\nthe voice, presently ran to the door, and ushered in Mrs. James, most\nsplendidly drest, who put on as", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", "perceived her to be so uneasy, that, as\nhe saw no hopes of contriving any fiction to satisfy her, he thought\nhimself obliged to tell her the truth, or at least part of the truth,\nand confessed that he had had a little skirmish with Colonel Bath, in\nwhich, he said, the colonel had received a slight wound, not at all\ndangerous; \"and this,\" says he, \"is all the whole matter.\" \"If it be\nso,\" cries Amelia, \"I thank Heaven no worse hath happened; but why, my\n", "but he found no supply of spirits to carry\non this deceit, and would have probably sunk under his attempt, had not\npoor Amelia's simplicity helped him to another fallacy, in which he had\nmuch better success.\n\nThis worthy woman very plainly perceived the disorder in her husband's\nmind; and, having no doubt of the cause of it, especially when she saw\nthe tears stand in his eyes at the sight of his children, threw her arms\nround his neck, and, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out,\n\"My dear", "which Amelia had no\nconcern; but, in truth, she was desirous of inculcating a good opinion\nof herself, from recounting those transactions where her conduct was\nunexceptionable, before she came to the more dangerous and suspicious\npart of her character. This I really suppose to have been her intention;\nfor to sacrifice the time and patience of Amelia at such a season to the\nmere love of talking of herself would have been as unpardonable in\nher as the bearing it was in Amelia a proof of the most perfect good\nbreeding.\n\n", "\nof no very comely appearance. Her eye (for she had but one), whence she\nderived her nickname, was such as that nickname bespoke; besides which,\nit had two remarkable qualities; for first, as if Nature had been\ncareful to provide for her own defect, it constantly looked towards her\nblind side; and secondly, the ball consisted almost entirely of white,\nor rather yellow, with a little grey spot in the corner, so small that\nit was scarce discernible. Nose she had none; for Venus, envious perhaps\nat" ], [ "rank, and the numberless addresses which were made her by men of\ngreat fortune, prevented my aspiring at the possession of those charms\nwhich seemed so absolutely out of my reach. However it was, I assure\nyou the accident which deprived her of the admiration of others made the\nfirst great impression on my heart in her favour. The injury done to\nher beauty by the overturning of a chaise, by which, as you may well\nremember, her lovely nose was beat all to pieces, gave me an assurance\nthat the woman who had been so much adored for the", "madam, what she may do with her head, but I am\nconvinced she will never more turn up her nose at her betters.' Another\ncried, 'What a very proper match might now be made between Amelia and a\ncertain captain,' who had unfortunately received an injury in the same\npart, though from no shameful cause. Many other sarcasms were thrown\nout, very unworthy to be repeated. I was hurt with perceiving so much\nmalice in human shape, and cried out very bluntly, Indeed, ladies, you\nneed not express such satisfaction", "side. Amelia had some\ndifficulty to conquer the effects of her own surprize on this occasion;\nfor a more ghastly and horrible sight than the bed presented could not\nbe conceived.\n\nAmelia sent Booth to call up the maid of the house, in order to lend\nher assistance; but before his return Mrs. Atkinson began to come to\nherself; and soon after, to the inexpressible joy of the serjeant, it\nwas discovered she had no wound. Indeed, the delicate nose of Amelia\nsoon made", "which they were\nthen engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now\ndeclared she remembered his voice and features perfectly well, and was\nthoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his\nnot having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her\ndeclared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth\ninto some very satirical invectives against that lady, and declared she\nhad the art, as well as the wickedness, of the devil himself.\n\nMany", "any change of his fortune, nor time,\nnor age, nor sickness, nor any accident, can ever alter; but who will\nesteem, will love, and doat on him for ever.\" So saying, she flung her\nsnowy arms about his neck, and gave him a caress so tender, that it\nseemed almost to balance all the malice of his fate.\n\nAnd, indeed, the behaviour of Amelia would have made him completely\nhappy, in defiance of all adverse circumstances, had it not been for\nthose bitter ingredients which he himself had thrown", "at poor Miss Emily's accident; for\nshe will still be the handsomest woman in England. This speech of mine\nwas afterwards variously repeated, by some to my honour, and by others\nrepresented in a contrary light; indeed, it was often reported to be\nmuch ruder than it was. However, it at length reached Amelia's ears.\nShe said she was very much obliged to me, since I could have so much\ncompassion for her as to be rude to a lady on her account.\n\n\"About a month after the accident, when Amelia", ", Amelia began gently to\nchide me for having concealed my illness from her; for, in three letters\nwhich I had writ her since the accident had happened, there was not\nthe least mention of it, or any hint given by which she could possibly\nconclude I was otherwise than in perfect health. And when I had excused\nmyself, by assigning the true reason, she cried--'O Mr. Booth! and do\nyou know so little of your Amelia as to think I could or would survive\nyou? Would it not be better for one dreadful sight to break my", "you think, Miss Matthews, that the misfortune of my Amelia was\ncapable of any aggravation? I assure you, she hath often told me it\nwas aggravated with a circumstance which outweighed all the other\ningredients. This was the cruel insults she received from some of her\nmost intimate acquaintance, several of whom, after many distortions and\ngrimaces, have turned their heads aside, unable to support their secret\ntriumph, and burst into a loud laugh in her hearing.\"\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried Miss Matt", ", Joe?\" said Amelia. \"I am sure you\nnever did anything willingly to offend me.\"\n\n\"No, madam,\" answered he, \"I would die a thousand times before I would\nhave ventured it in the smallest matter. But--I cannot speak--and yet I\nmust. You cannot pardon me, and yet, perhaps, as I am a dying man, and\nnever shall see you more--indeed, if I was to live after this discovery,\nI should never dare to look you in the face again; and yet, madam, to\nthink I shall", "\"Damnation! this is too much to bear.\"\n\nAmelia was thrown into the utmost consternation by this behaviour; and,\nwith great terror in her countenance, cried out, \"Good Heavens! my dear\nlove, what is the reason of this agony?\"\n\n\"Ask me no questions,\" cried he, \"unless you would drive me to madness.\"\n\n\"My Billy! my love!\" said she, \"what can be the meaning of this?--I beg\nyou will deal openly with me, and tell me all your griefs.\"\n", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "ly, and almost breathless, rushed into the room where she\nthen was with her children.\n\nThis figure Amelia soon recognised to be Mrs. Atkinson, though indeed\nshe was so disguised that at her first entrance Amelia scarce knew her.\nHer eyes were sunk in her head, her hair dishevelled, and not only her\ndress but every feature in her face was in the utmost disorder.\n\nAmelia was greatly shocked at this sight, and the little girl was much\nfrightened; as for the boy, he immediately knew her, and, running", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", "cries Amelia, \"you chill my blood with horror! the idea\nfreezes me to death; I cannot, must not, will not think it. Nothing but\nconviction! Heaven forbid I should ever have more conviction! And did he\nabuse my husband? what? did he abuse a poor, unhappy, distrest creature,\nopprest, ruined, torn from his children, torn away from his wretched\nwife; the honestest, worthiest, noblest, tenderest, fondest, best--\"\nHere she burst into an agony of grief, which exceed", "but he found no supply of spirits to carry\non this deceit, and would have probably sunk under his attempt, had not\npoor Amelia's simplicity helped him to another fallacy, in which he had\nmuch better success.\n\nThis worthy woman very plainly perceived the disorder in her husband's\nmind; and, having no doubt of the cause of it, especially when she saw\nthe tears stand in his eyes at the sight of his children, threw her arms\nround his neck, and, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out,\n\"My dear", "\"I am very glad,\" cried\nMiss Matthews, \"to find she did not forget you. I own I thought it\nsomewhat cruel to turn you out into the rain.\"--\"O, Miss Matthews!\"\ncontinued he, taking no notice of her observation, \"I had now an\nopportunity of contemplating the vast power of exquisite beauty, which\nnothing almost can add to or diminish. Amelia, in the poor rags of her\nold nurse, looked scarce less beautiful than I have seen her appear at a\nball or an assembly.\" \"Well", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "perceived her to be so uneasy, that, as\nhe saw no hopes of contriving any fiction to satisfy her, he thought\nhimself obliged to tell her the truth, or at least part of the truth,\nand confessed that he had had a little skirmish with Colonel Bath, in\nwhich, he said, the colonel had received a slight wound, not at all\ndangerous; \"and this,\" says he, \"is all the whole matter.\" \"If it be\nso,\" cries Amelia, \"I thank Heaven no worse hath happened; but why, my\n", "\ndear, I have discovered the cause of that resentment to the colonel\nwhich you could not hide from me. I love you, I adore you for it;\nindeed, I could not forgive a slighting word on you. But, why do I\ncompare things so unlike?--what the colonel said of me was just and\ntrue; every reflexion on my Amelia must be false and villanous.\"\n\nThe discernment of Amelia was extremely quick, and she now perceived\nwhat had happened, and how much her husband knew of the truth. She\nresolved", "addressed her with as perfect a\nconfidence as if he had not been in the least conscious of having in any\nmanner displeased her; though the reader will hardly suppose that Mrs.\nEllison had kept anything a secret from him.\n\nAmelia was not, however, so forgetful. She made him a very distant\ncourtesy, would scarce vouchsafe an answer to anything he said, and took\nthe first opportunity of shifting her chair and retiring from him.\n\nHer behaviour, indeed, was such that the peer plainly perceived that he\nshould get no advantage by" ], [ ", though she is ashamed to ask.\" The doctor, overhearing\nthe child, proposed that they should all retire to some place where\nthey might sit down and refresh themselves; which they accordingly did.\nAmelia now missed her husband; but, as she had three men in her company,\nand one of them was the doctor, she concluded herself and her children\nto be safe, and doubted not but that Booth would soon find her out.\n\nThey now sat down, and the doctor very gallantly desired Amelia to call\nfor what she liked. Upon which the children were supplied with c", ", doth my Amelia think I\ncould be prevailed on to leave her? No, my Amelia, he is the only man on\nearth who could have prevailed on me; but I know his house, his purse,\nhis protection, will be all at your command. And as for any dislike\nyou have conceived to his wife, let not that be any objection; for I\nam convinced he will not suffer her to insult you; besides, she is\nextremely well bred, and, how much soever she may hate you in her heart,\nshe will", "to the deceit, and acknowledged\nthe truth of what he had mentioned; but said that the pleasure she\nshould have in complying with his desires would highly recompense any\ndissatisfaction which might arise on any other account; and shortly\nafter ended the conversation on this subject with her chearfully\npromising to fulfil his promise.\n\nIn reality, poor Amelia had now a most unpleasant task to undertake;\nfor she thought it absolutely necessary to conceal from her husband\nthe opinion she had conceived of the colonel. For, as she knew the\ncharacters,", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "Amelia, \"I hope you will be easy.\"\n\nAmelia, frighted as she was, presently took the hint, and greatly\nchid her husband for leaving her. But the little boy was not so\nquick-sighted, and cried, \"Indeed, papa, those naughty men there have\nfrighted my mamma out of her wits.\"\n\n\"How!\" cries Booth, a little moved; \"frightened! Hath any one frightened\nyou, my dear?\"\n\n\"No, my love,\" answered she, \"nothing.", "shall consider myself as the happiest man upon earth in being able to\nsupply it, and you, madam, my greatest benefactor in receiving it.\"\n\nAmelia then put the note in her pocket, and they entered into a\nconversation in which many civil things were said on both sides; but\nwhat was chiefly worth remark was, that Amelia had almost her husband\nconstantly in her mouth, and the colonel never mentioned him: the former\nseemed desirous to lay all obligations, as much as possible, to the\naccount of her husband; and the latter endeavoured", "I\nwill even go to-night.\" Amelia answered, \"My husband will be far from\ndesiring to derive any good from your inconvenience; but, if you put it\nto me, I must be excused for saying I desire nothing more in the world\nthan to send him so great a comfort as I know he will receive from\nthe presence of such a friend.\" \"Then, to show you, madam,\" cries the\ncolonel, \"that I desire nothing more in the world than to give you\npleasure, I will go to him immediately.\"\n\nAmelia then b", "dear sir,\" cries Amelia, \"for Heaven's sake take care! If you\nshew any kind of disrespect to the colonel, my husband may be led into\nsome suspicion--especially after our conference.\"\n\n\"Fear nothing, child. I will give him no hint; and, that I may be\ncertain of not doing it, I will stay away. You do not think, I hope,\nthat I will join in a chearful conversation with such a man; that I will\nso far betray my character as to give any countenance to such flagitious\n", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", "Mrs. James; and\nI must confess she hath not behaved to you lately as you might have\nexpected; but you ought to pass all that by for the sake of her\nhusband, to whom we have both so many obligations, who is the worthiest,\nhonestest, and most generous fellow in the universe, and the best friend\nto me that ever man had.\"\n\nAmelia, who had far other suspicions, and began to fear that her husband\nhad discovered them, was highly pleased when she saw him taking a wrong\nscent. She gave, therefore, a little in", "the girl for calling him,\nsaying \"If you can read, child, you must see it was directed to your\nmistress.\" To this the girl answered, pertly enough, \"I am sure, sir,\nyou ordered me to bring every letter first to you.\" This hint, with many\nwomen, would have been sufficient to have blown up the whole affair;\nbut Amelia, who heard what the girl said, through the medium of love and\nconfidence, saw the matter in a much better light than it deserved, and,\nlooking tenderly on her husband, said, \"Ind", "till, at last, it flung him into a melancholy, which Miss Matthews\nplainly perceived, and at which she could not avoid expressing some\nresentment in obscure hints and ironical compliments on Amelia's\nsuperiority to her whole sex, who could not cloy a gay young fellow\nby many years' possession. She would then repeat the compliments which\nothers had made to her own beauty, and could not forbear once crying\nout, \"Upon my soul, my dear Billy, I believe the chief disadvantage on\nmy side is my", "if I was a man, rather than be married to a woman who makes such a fuss\nwith her virtue, I would wish my wife was without such a troublesome\ncompanion.\"\n\n\"Very possibly, madam, these may be your sentiments,\" cries Amelia, \"and\nI hope they are the sentiments of your husband.\"\n\n\"I desire, madam,\" cries Mrs. Atkinson, \"you would not reflect on my\nhusband. He is a worthy man and as brave a man as yours; yes, madam, and\nhe is now as much", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "that\nher husband was perfectly well, and that he hoped the next day he would\nagain be with her.\n\nAmelia was a little comforted at this account, and vented many grateful\nexpressions to the colonel for his unparalleled friendship, as she was\npleased to call it. She could not, however, help giving way soon after\nto a sigh at the thoughts of her husband's bondage, and declared that\nnight would be the longest she had ever known.\n\n\"This lady, madam,\" cries the colonel, \"must endeavour to make", "which they were\nthen engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now\ndeclared she remembered his voice and features perfectly well, and was\nthoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his\nnot having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her\ndeclared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth\ninto some very satirical invectives against that lady, and declared she\nhad the art, as well as the wickedness, of the devil himself.\n\nMany", "most dreadful that can attend\na virtuous woman, as it often gives the highest triumph, and sometimes\nno little advantage, to the men of professed gallantry.\n\nIn short, to avoid giving any umbrage to her husband, Amelia was forced\nto act in a manner which she was conscious must give encouragement to\nthe colonel; a situation which perhaps requires as great prudence and\ndelicacy as any in which the heroic part of the female character can be\nexerted.\n\n\n\n\nChapter iii.\n\n_A conversation between Dr Harrison", "addressed her with as perfect a\nconfidence as if he had not been in the least conscious of having in any\nmanner displeased her; though the reader will hardly suppose that Mrs.\nEllison had kept anything a secret from him.\n\nAmelia was not, however, so forgetful. She made him a very distant\ncourtesy, would scarce vouchsafe an answer to anything he said, and took\nthe first opportunity of shifting her chair and retiring from him.\n\nHer behaviour, indeed, was such that the peer plainly perceived that he\nshould get no advantage by", "frightened by the former; and she soon after took\nleave of her husband to go in quest of the doctor, who, as Amelia\nhad heard that morning, was expected in town that very day, which was\nsomewhat sooner than he had intended at his departure.\n\nBefore she went, however, she left a strict charge with the bailiff,\nwho ushered her very civilly downstairs, that if one Colonel James came\nthere to enquire for her husband he should deny that he was there.\n\nShe then departed; and the bailiff immediately gave a very strict charge\nto his wife", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in" ], [ "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", "time very uneasily ever since he had discovered what sort of man he was\nindebted to; but, lest he should forget it, Mr. Trent thought now proper\nto remind him in the following letter, which he read the next morning\nafter he had put off the appointment.\n\n\"SIR,--I am sorry the necessity of my affairs obliges me to mention that\nsmall sum which I had the honour to lend you the other night at play;\nand which I shall be much obliged to you if you will let me have some\ntime either to-day or to-", "I had some opinion of him at that time, for he spent\nhis money very much like a gentleman; but I have discovered since that\nhe is a poor fellow, and worth nothing. He is a mere shy cock; I have\nhad the stuff about me this week, and could never get at him till this\nmorning; nay, I don't believe we should ever have found out his lodgings\nhad it not been for the attorney that was here just now, who gave us\ninformation. And so we took him this morning by a comical way enough;\nfor we dressed up one of", "to be paid one time or other. To say the truth, it is a little hard\nthe government doth not pay those pensions better; for my sister's hath\nbeen due almost these two years; that is my way of thinking.\"\n\nBooth answered he was ashamed to refuse him such a sum; but, \"Upon my\nsoul,\" said he, \"I have not a single halfpenny in my pocket; for I am\nin a worse condition, if possible, than yourself; for I have lost all\nmy money, and, what is worse, I owe Mr", ", and entered the room with an air of\ngaiety rather misbecoming the occasion. When she had seated herself in\na chair she told Amelia that the captain was very well and in good\nspirits, and that he earnestly desired her to keep up hers. \"Come,\nmadam,\" said she, \"don't be disconsolate; I hope we shall soon be able\nto get him out of his troubles. The debts, indeed, amount to more than I\nexpected; however, ways may be found to redeem him. He must own himself\nguilty of some rash", "? and will it not finally end in that of your poor wife\nand children? you know you are two years in arrears to me. If I could\nimpute this to any extraordinary or common accident I think I should\nnever have mentioned it; but I will not suffer my money to support the\nridiculous, and, I must say, criminal vanity of any one. I expect,\ntherefore, to find, at my return, that you have either discharged my\nwhole debt, or your equipage. Let me beg you seriously to consider your\ncircumstances and condition in", "\nno debtor. I am the king's officer as well as you, and I will spend\nguinea for guinea as long as you please.\"\n\n\"Harkee, rascal,\" cries Booth, laying hold of the bailiff's collar.\n\"How dare you treat me with this insolence? doth the law give you any\nauthority to insult me in my misfortunes?\" At which words he gave the\nbailiff a good shove, and threw him from him.\n\n\"Very well, sir,\" cries the bailiff; \"I will swear both", "seventy pounds, you will not wonder that, in diversions, cloaths, and\nthe common expenses of life, we had almost consumed our whole stock.\n\n\"The inconsiderate manner in which we had lived for some time will, I\ndoubt not, appear to you to want some excuse; but I have none to make\nfor it. Two things, however, now happened, which occasioned much serious\nreflexion to Mr. Bennet; the one was, that I grew near my time; the\nother, that he now received a letter from Oxford, demanding the debt\n", "had robbed them of too much already.\n\n\"The poor young fellow was now greatly distrest; for he had yet above a\nyear to stay at the university, without any visible means of sustaining\nhimself there.\n\n\"In this distress, however, he met with a friend, who had the good\nnature to lend him the sum of twenty pounds, for which he only accepted\nhis bond for forty, and which was to be paid within a year after his\nbeing possessed of his living; that is, within a year after his becoming\nqualified to hold it.\n\n", "where Amelia was, while\nBooth was to be engaged at play in another.\n\nAnd now after much debate, and after Trent had acquainted my lord with\nthe wretched situation of Booth's circumstances, it was resolved that\nTrent should immediately demand his money of Booth, and upon his not\npaying it, for they both concluded it impossible he should pay it, to\nput the note which Trent had for the money in suit against him by the\ngenteel means of paying it away to a nominal third person; and this\nthey both conceived must end", ",' said he,\n'to rejoice at an accident which, though it brought me fortunately\nacquainted with two of the most agreeable people in the world, was yet\nat the expense of your mutual felicity. The circumstance, I mean, is\nyour debt at Oxford; pray, how doth that stand? I am resolved it shall\nnever disturb your happiness hereafter.' At these words the tears burst\nfrom my poor husband's eyes; and, in an ecstasy of gratitude, he cried\nout, 'Your lordship overcomes me with generosity. If you go on", "believe, shews them any\ncountenance when they engage in play with knaves.\n\nThe more Booth lost, the deeper he made his bets; the consequence of\nwhich was, that about two in the morning, besides the loss of his own\nmoney, he was fifty pounds indebted to Trent: a sum, indeed, which he\nwould not have borrowed, had not the other, like a very generous friend,\npushed it upon him.\n\nTrent's pockets became at last dry by means of these loans. His own\nloss, indeed, was", "I have taken it to be a\ngreater honour than if I was to be called a general officer.\"\n\n\"What pity it is,\" said the colonel, \"that this worthy creature should\nbe exposed to so much misery by the thoughtless behaviour of a man\nwho, though I am his friend, I cannot help saying, hath been guilty of\nimprudence at least! Why could he not live upon his half-pay? What had\nhe to do to run himself into debt in this outrageous manner?\"\n\n\"I wish, indeed,\" cries the serjeant, \"he", "ition should mislead the reader to search the palaces of the great,\nwe will direct him at once to Gray's-inn-lane; where, in a miserable\nbed, in a miserable room, he will see a miserable broken lieutenant, in\na miserable condition, with several heavy debts on his back, and\nwithout a penny in his pocket. This, and no other, was the object of\nthe colonel's envy. And why? because this wretch was possessed of the\naffections of a poor little lamb, which all the vast flocks that\nwere", "her\nrent; such being, it seems, the custom of this place, which, as it was\ninhabited chiefly by persons in debt, is not the region of credit.\n\n\"My husband, by the singular goodness of the rector, who greatly\ncompassionated his case, was enabled to continue in his curacy, though\nhe could only do the duty on Sundays. He was, however, sometimes obliged\nto furnish a person to officiate at his expence; so that our income was\nvery scanty, and the poor little remainder of the legacy being almost", ", and had given him very\ngreat uneasiness; but to answer this demand in any other manner than by\npaying the money was absolutely what he could not bear. Again, to pay\nthis money, he very plainly saw there was but one way, and this was, by\nstripping his wife, not only of every farthing, but almost of every rag\nshe had in the world; a thought so dreadful that it chilled his very\nsoul with horror: and yet pride, at last, seemed to represent this as\nthe lesser evil of the two.\n\nBut how to", "or two, for he hath\nwrit out the debt. He is now writing for five or six booksellers, and\nhe will get you sometimes, when he sits to it, a matter of fifteen\nshillings a-day. For he is a very good pen, they say, but is apt to be\nidle. Some days he won't write above five hours; but at other times I\nhave know him at it above sixteen.\" \"Ay!\" cries Booth; \"pray, what are\nhis productions? What does he write?\" \"Why, sometimes,\" answered Bondum,", ", Booth recollected the omission he\nhad been guilty of the night before. He wrote a short note therefore to\nhis wife, acquainting her that he should not come home to supper; but\ncomforted her with a faithful promise that he would on no account engage\nhimself in gaming.\n\nThe first bottle passed in ordinary conversation; but, when they had\ntapped the second, Booth, on some hints which Trent gave him, very\nfairly laid open to him his whole circumstances, and declared he almost\ndespaired of mending them. \"My", "undoubtedly, to pay your debts,\" says the old\ngentleman; \"but sure, on such an occasion, any man but the rankest\nusurer would be contented to stay a little while for his money; and it\nwill be only a little while I am convinced; for, if you deposit this\nsum in the great man's hands, I make no doubt but you will succeed\nimmediately in getting your commission; and then I will help you to a\nmethod of taking up such a sum as this.\" The old gentleman persisted\nin this advice, and backed it with every", "of forty pounds which I mentioned to you before. The former of these\nhe made a pretence of obtaining a delay for the payment of the latter,\npromising, in two months, to pay off half the debt, by which means he\nobtained a forbearance during that time.\n\n\"I was now delivered of a son, a matter which should in reality have\nencreased our concern, but, on the contrary, it gave us great pleasure;\ngreater indeed could not have been conceived at the birth of an heir\nto the most plentiful estate: so entirely thought" ], [ "out of the hearing of my cries or the knowledge of\nmy pains? if I die, will you not have escaped the horrors of a parting\nten thousand times more dreadful than this? Go, go, my Billy; the very\ncircumstance which made me most dread your departure hath perfectly\nreconciled me to it. I perceive clearly now that I was only wishing to\nsupport my own weakness with your strength, and to relieve my own pains\nat the price of yours. Believe me, my love, I am ashamed of myself.'--I\nc", "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", "the house, and deposited in the\nentry, where I had not lain long before I was again removed and packed\nup in a cart in order to be sent five miles into the country; for I\nheard the orders given as I lay in the entry; and there I likewise heard\nthat Amelia and her mother were to follow me the next morning.\n\n\"I was unloaded from my cart, and set down with the rest of the lumber\nin a great hall. Here I remained above three hours, impatiently waiting\nfor the evening, when I determined to quit a posture which", "James now came to pay a morning's visit to Amelia. She entered\nthe room with her usual gaiety, and after a slight preface, addressing\nherself to Booth, said she had been quarrelling with her husband on his\naccount. \"I know not,\" said she, \"what he means by thinking of sending\nyou the Lord knows whither. I have insisted on his asking something for\nyou nearer home; and it would be the hardest thing in the world if he\nshould not obtain it. Are we resolved never to encourage merit; but to\nthrow away all", ", if you can provide for him in some\nregiment at home, I know she will dearly love you for it, and when he is\nordered to quarters she will be left behind; and Yorkshire or Scotland,\nI think, is as good a distance as either of the Indies.\"\n\n\"Well, I will do what I can,\" answered James; \"but I cannot ask anything\nyet; for I got two places of a hundred a year each for two of my\nfootmen, within this fortnight.\"\n\nAt this instant a violent knock at the door signified the arrival of\n", "with you in the cruellest manner, I hope you will not deny me the\nopportunity of kicking him through the world.\"\n\n\"By all the dignity of man,\" cries Colonel Bath, \"the boy speaks with\nspirit, and his request is reasonable.\"\n\nColonel James hesitated a moment, and then whispered Booth that he would\ngive him all the satisfaction imaginable concerning the whole affair\nwhen they were alone together; upon which, Booth addressing himself to\nColonel Bath, the discourse turned on other matters during the remainder\nof the visit, which was but short,", "retire to her own bed,\nbut found it utterly impossible to succeed; she thanked Heaven she\nunderstood breeding better than that. And so well bred was the good\nwoman, that we could scarce get her out of the room the whole night.\nLuckily for us, we both understood French, by means of which we\nconsulted together, even in her presence, upon the measures we were to\ntake in our present exigency. At length it was resolved that I should\nsend a letter by this young lad, whom I have just before mentioned, to\nour worthy friend the", "the\nmarks of dejection in his countenance, and, throwing an open letter on\nthe table, said, 'There is news, madam, in that letter which I am unable\nto tell you; nor can it give you more concern than it hath given me.'\n\n\"This letter was from his captain, to acquaint him that the rout, as\nthey call it, was arrived, and that they were to march within two days.\nAnd this, I am since convinced, was what he expected, instead of the\npreferment which had been made the pretence of delaying our", "\nit was made Dido fall in love with AEneas?\"\n\n\"Nay, dear sir,\" said Amelia, \"do not rally me so unmercifully; think\nwhere my poor husband is now.\"\n\n\"He is,\" answered the doctor, \"where I will presently be with him.\nIn the mean time, do you pack up everything in order for your journey\nto-morrow; for if you are wise, you will not trust your husband a day\nlonger in this town--therefore to packing.\"\n\nAmelia promised she would, though indeed she", "\"By heavens! madam, but you shall,\" answered he: \"I will have my coach\nat the door to-morrow morning by seven; and you shall either go into it\nor be carried.\"\n\n\"I hope, sir, you are not in earnest,\" said she.\n\n\"Indeed, madam,\" answered he, \"but I am in earnest, and resolved; and\ninto the country you go to-morrow.\"\n\n\"But why into the country,\" said she, \"Mr. James? Why will you be so\nbarbarous to deny me the", "said Amelia.--\"O,\nvery well,\" answered the serjeant. \"Pray, madam, don't be frightened; I\nhope it will signify nothing--he is arrested, but I hope to get him out\nof their damned hands immediately.\" \"Where is he?\" cries Amelia; \"I will\ngo to him this instant!\" \"He begs you will not,\" answered the serjeant.\n\"I have sent his lawyer to him, and am going back with Mrs. Ellison this\nmoment; but I beg your ladyship, for his sake, and", "yourself, I hope you will pardon\nmy writing to you at this season; though I do not know that you can\nrelieve my distresses, or, if you can, have I any pretence to expect\nthat you should. My poor dear, O Heavens--my---lies dead in the house;\nand, after I had procured sufficient to bury him, a set of ruffians have\nentered my house, seized all I have, have seized his dear, dear corpse,\nand threaten to deny it burial. For Heaven's sake, send me,", "doctor was sent for, and\nmessengers were despatched every way; amongst the rest, one was sent to\nenquire at the lodgings of his supposed antagonist.\n\nThe servant hearing that his master was alive and well above-stairs, ran\nup eagerly to acquaint him with the dreadful situation in which he left\nhis miserable lady at home, and likewise with the occasion of all her\ndistress, saying, that his lady had been at her brother's, and had there\nheard that his honour was killed in a duel by Captain Booth.\n\n", ".\n\n\"When everything was agreed on, and the two commissions were actually\nmade out, but not signed by the king, one day, at my return from\nhunting, Amelia flew to me, and eagerly embracing me, cried out, 'O\nBilly, I have news for you which delights my soul. Nothing sure was\never so fortunate as the exchange you have made. The regiment you was\nformerly in is ordered for Gibraltar.'\n\n\"I received this news with far less transport than it was delivered. I\nanswered coldly, since the", "horns, and ordered the two followers, who were now got again on\ntheir legs, to walk down-stairs.\n\n\"So, captain,\" says the doctor, \"when last we parted, I believe we\nneither of us expected to meet in such a place as this.\"\n\n\"Indeed, doctor,\" cries Booth, \"I did not expect to have been sent\nhither by the gentleman who did me that favour.\"\n\n\"How so, sir?\" said the doctor; \"you was sent hither by some person, I\nsuppose, to whom you was inde", "which was, that he\nwas committed for murder. But, though she had discredited this part, she\nsaid the not hearing from him during several successive posts made her\ntoo apprehensive of the rest; that she got a conveyance therefore for\nherself and children to Salisbury, from whence the stage coach had\nbrought them to town; and, having deposited the children at his lodging,\nof which he had sent her an account on his first arrival in town, she\ntook a hack, and came directly to the prison where she heard he was,", "\nBooth then proceeded to enquire after the other gentlemen, his fellows\nin affliction; upon which Bondum acquainted him that one of the\nprisoners was a poor fellow. \"He calls himself a gentleman,\" said\nBondum; \"but I am sure I never saw anything genteel by him. In a week\nthat he hath been in my house he hath drank only part of one bottle of\nwine. I intend to carry him to Newgate within a day or two, if he can't\nfind bail, which, I suppose, he will not", ", not soon: a week\nis an age;--but yet the happy day may come. It shall, it must, it will!\nYes, Billy, we shall meet never to part again, even in this world, I\nhope.' Pardon my weakness, Miss Matthews, but upon my soul I cannot help\nit,\" cried he, wiping his eyes. \"Well, I wonder at your patience, and I\nwill try it no longer. Amelia, tired out with so long a struggle\nbetween variety of passions, and having not closed her eyes during three\nsuccessive nights,", "of his death before.\"\n\n\"Long may it be before any one hears of it!\" cries Booth. \"He is,\nindeed, dead to us; but will, I hope, enjoy many happy years of life.\nYou know, madam, the obligations he had to his patron the earl; indeed,\nit was impossible to be once in his company without hearing of them. I\nam sure you will neither wonder that he was chosen to attend the\nyoung lord in his travels as his tutor, nor that the good man, however\ndisagreeable it might be (", "concerns my\nlittle babe in the country) which doth not relate to the badness of our\ncircumstances? and those, I thank Heaven, we have now a fair prospect\nof retrieving. Besides, dear Billy, though my understanding be much\ninferior to yours, I have sometimes had the happiness of luckily hitting\non some argument which hath afforded you comfort. This, you know, my\ndear, was the case with regard to Colonel James, whom I persuaded you to\nthink you had mistaken, and you see the event proved me in the right.\"\nSo" ], [ "\"What can be the meaning of all this?\" cries Amelia, under the highest\ndegree of astonishment.\n\n\"Do not I tell you, my dear madam,\" cries she, \"that it is a commission\nfor my husband? and can you wonder at my being overjoyed at what I know\nwill make him so happy? And now it is all out. The letter is not from\nthe colonel, but from that noble lord of whom I have told you so much.\nBut, indeed, madam, I have some pardons to ask of you. However, I know", "latter occasion.\"\n\n\"You are a good creature,\" said Amelia, \"and I love you dearly.\"\n\n\"Alas! madam,\" cries she, \"what could I have done if it had not been\nfor the goodness of that best of men, my noble cousin! His lordship no\nsooner heard of the widow's distress from me than he immediately settled\none hundred and fifty pounds a year upon her during her life.\"\n\n\"Well! how noble, how generous was that!\" said Amelia. \"I declare I\nbegin to love your cousin, Mrs.", "affair, are in the hands of an\nold Parson called Doctor Harrison.'\"\n\n\"And is this really true?\" cries Amelia.\n\n\"Yes, really and sincerely,\" cries the doctor. \"The whole estate;\nfor your mother left it you all, and is as surely yours as if you was\nalready in possession.\"\n\n\"Gracious Heaven!\" cries she, falling on her knees, \"I thank you!\" And\nthen starting up, she ran to her husband, and, embracing him, cried, \"My\ndear love, I wish you joy;", "a curiosity, and\nyou would think it more so could I shew you my Amelia's letter.\" He then\nsearched his pocket-book, and finding the letter among many others, he\nread it in the following words:\n\n\"'DEAR SISTER,--My mamma being much disordered, hath commanded me\nto tell you she is both shocked and surprized at your extraordinary\nrequest, or, as she chuses to call it, order for money. You know, my\ndear, she says that your marriage with this red-coat man was entirely", "lictions which, I think, can befal a man, namely, the unkindness of a\nfriend; but he had luckily at the same time the greatest blessing in\nhis possession, the kindness of a faithful and beloved wife. A blessing,\nhowever, which, though it compensates most of the evils of life, rather\nserves to aggravate the misfortune of distressed circumstances, from the\nconsideration of the share which she is to bear in them.\n\nThis afternoon Amelia received a second visit from Mrs. Ellison, who\nacquainted her that", "elia undertook to pay the lady a visit, and\nto examine into the mystery of this conduct, which appeared to her so\nunaccountable.\n\nMrs. James received her with a degree of civility that amazed Amelia\nno less than her coldness had done before. She resolved to come to an\neclaircissement, and, having sat out some company that came in, when\nthey were alone together Amelia, after some silence and many offers to\nspeak, at last said, \"My dear Jenny (if you will now suffer me to call\nyou by so familiar", "oth's fortune), than to any aversion or anger to me. I must insist\nupon it, therefore, to make your present habitation as easy to you as\npossible--I hope, madam, you will not deny me this happiness; I beg you\nwill honour me with the acceptance of this trifle.\" He then put the note\ninto her hand, and declared that the honour of touching it was worth a\nhundred times that sum.\n\n\"I protest, Colonel James,\" cried Amelia, blushing, \"I know not what to\ndo or say, your goodness so greatly", "Mrs. Harris that I should settle all my\nAmelia's fortune on her, except a certain sum, which was to be laid out\nin my advancement in the army; but, as our marriage was carried on in\nthe manner you have heard, no such agreement was ever executed. And\nsince I was become Amelia's husband not a word of this matter was ever\nmentioned by the old lady; and as for myself, I declare I had not yet\nawakened from that delicious dream of bliss in which the possession of\nAmelia had lulled me.\"\n\nHere Miss", ", doth my Amelia think I\ncould be prevailed on to leave her? No, my Amelia, he is the only man on\nearth who could have prevailed on me; but I know his house, his purse,\nhis protection, will be all at your command. And as for any dislike\nyou have conceived to his wife, let not that be any objection; for I\nam convinced he will not suffer her to insult you; besides, she is\nextremely well bred, and, how much soever she may hate you in her heart,\nshe will", "was impossible for him to aggravate\nthe real truth.\n\nAmelia heard him patiently, without once interrupting him. When he had\nfinished, she remained silent some time: indeed, the shock she received\nfrom this story almost deprived her of the power of speaking. At last\nshe answered, \"Well, my dear, you ask my advice; I certainly can give\nyou no other than that the money must be paid.\"\n\n\"But how must it be paid?\" cries he. \"O, heavens! thou sweetest\ncreature! what, not once upbraid me", "Mrs. James; and\nI must confess she hath not behaved to you lately as you might have\nexpected; but you ought to pass all that by for the sake of her\nhusband, to whom we have both so many obligations, who is the worthiest,\nhonestest, and most generous fellow in the universe, and the best friend\nto me that ever man had.\"\n\nAmelia, who had far other suspicions, and began to fear that her husband\nhad discovered them, was highly pleased when she saw him taking a wrong\nscent. She gave, therefore, a little in", "when she was\nperfectly recovered, about nine in the evening, when she and her husband\nwere just going to supper, she heard a most violent thundering at the\ndoor, and presently after a rustling of silk upon her staircase; at the\nsame time a female voice cried out pretty loud, \"Bless me! what, am I to\nclimb up another pair of stairs?\" upon which Amelia, who well knew\nthe voice, presently ran to the door, and ushered in Mrs. James, most\nsplendidly drest, who put on as", "assure you it is\ncontrary to my inclinations to take this money.\"\n\n\"Well, suffer me,\" cries he, \"to act this once contrary to your\ninclinations.\" He then writ a short note to Mrs. Atkinson, and\ndispatched it away immediately; which when he had done, Amelia said, \"I\nshall be glad of Mrs. Atkinson's company to breakfast; but yet I wish\nyou would oblige me in refusing this money. Take five guineas only. That\nis indeed such a sum as, if we never should pay", "for of mine. I then\nprofessed the greatest friendship to that lady (in which I am convinced\nyou will think me serious), and assured him he would give me one of the\nhighest pleasures in letting me be the instrument of doing her such a\nservice. He promised me in a moment to do what you see, madam, he hath\nsince done. And to you I shall always think myself indebted for it.\"\n\n\"I know not how you are indebted to me,\" cries Amelia. \"Indeed, I am\nvery glad of any good fortune that", "Amelia answered, she did so.\n\n\"I think likewise, madam,\" said Mrs. Atkinson, \"you was acquainted with\nthe colonel's lady?\"\n\nAmelia answered that she had been extremely intimate with her abroad.\n\n\"Is she young and handsome?\" said Mrs. Atkinson. \"In short, pray, was it\na match of love or convenience?\"\n\nAmelia answered, entirely of love, she believed, on his side; for that\nthe lady had little or no fortune.\n\n\"I am very glad to hear it,\" said Mrs.", "Being now provided with her sum, she returned well pleased home, and her\nhusband coming in soon after, she with much chearfulness delivered him\nall the money.\n\nBooth was so overjoyed with the prospect of discharging his debt to\nTrent, that he did not perfectly reflect on the distress to which\nhis family was now reduced. The good-humour which appeared in the\ncountenance of Amelia was, perhaps, another help to stifle those\nreflexions; but above all, were the assurances he had received from the\ngreat man", "aths, and money\nenough. He is not here for debt, but upon a judge's warrant for an\nassault and battery; for the tipstaff locks up here.\"\n\nThe bailiff was thus haranguing when he was interrupted by the\narrival of the attorney whom the trusty serjeant had, with the utmost\nexpedition, found out and dispatched to the relief of his distressed\nfriend. But before we proceed any further with the captain we will\nreturn to poor Amelia, for whom, considering the situation in which we\nleft her, the", "a dependence on that ticket\nwhich he had so dearly purchased of one who pretended to manage the\nwheels in the great state lottery of preferment. A lottery, indeed,\nwhich hath this to recommend it--that many poor wretches feed their\nimaginations with the prospect of a prize during their whole lives, and\nnever discover they have drawn a blank.\n\nAmelia, who was of a pretty sanguine temper, and was entirely ignorant\nof these matters, was full as easy to be deceived into hopes as her\nhusband; but in reality at present she turned", "recovery threw Booth\ninto raptures. At length they retired, happy in each other.\n\nIt is possible some readers may be no less surprized at the behaviour of\nMrs. James than was Amelia herself, since they may have perhaps received\nso favourable an impression of that lady from the account given of\nher by Mr. Booth, that her present demeanour may seem unnatural and\ninconsistent with her former character. But they will be pleased to\nconsider the great alteration in her circumstances, from a state of\ndependency on a brother, who was", "shall consider myself as the happiest man upon earth in being able to\nsupply it, and you, madam, my greatest benefactor in receiving it.\"\n\nAmelia then put the note in her pocket, and they entered into a\nconversation in which many civil things were said on both sides; but\nwhat was chiefly worth remark was, that Amelia had almost her husband\nconstantly in her mouth, and the colonel never mentioned him: the former\nseemed desirous to lay all obligations, as much as possible, to the\naccount of her husband; and the latter endeavoured" ], [ "Booth and his wife, the moment their companion was gone, sat down to\nsupper on a piece of cold meat, the remains of their dinner. After\nwhich, over a pint of wine, they entertained themselves for a while with\nthe ridiculous behaviour of their visitant. But Amelia, declaring she\nrather saw her as the object of pity than anger, turned the discourse\nto pleasanter topics. The little actions of their children, the former\nscenes and future prospects of their life, furnished them with many\npleasant ideas; and the contemplation of Amelia's", "are well assured I got it by no means which would\ndisplease you; and, perhaps, another time I may tell you.\"\n\nBooth asked no farther questions; but he returned her, and insisted on\nher taking, all but one guinea, saying she was the safest treasurer. He\nthen promised her to make all the haste home in his power, and he hoped,\nhe said, to be with her in an hour and half at farthest, and then took\nhis leave.\n\nWhen he was gone the poor disappointed Amelia sat down to supper with\n", "Being now provided with her sum, she returned well pleased home, and her\nhusband coming in soon after, she with much chearfulness delivered him\nall the money.\n\nBooth was so overjoyed with the prospect of discharging his debt to\nTrent, that he did not perfectly reflect on the distress to which\nhis family was now reduced. The good-humour which appeared in the\ncountenance of Amelia was, perhaps, another help to stifle those\nreflexions; but above all, were the assurances he had received from the\ngreat man", "not the doctor given him a timely wink; for this wise and good man\nwas fearful of making such a discovery all at once to Amelia, lest it\nshould overpower her, and luckily the justice's wife was not well enough\nacquainted with the matter to say anything more on it than barely to\nassure the lady that she joined in her husband's congratulation.\n\nAmelia was then in a clean white gown, which she had that day redeemed,\nand was, indeed, dressed all over with great neatness and exactness;\nwith the glow", "to their own profit and their own vanity.\n\nAs soon as Booth was gone to his appointment with this man, Amelia\nimmediately betook herself to her business with the highest resolution.\nShe packed up, not only her own little trinkets, and those of the\nchildren, but the greatest part of her own poor cloathes (for she was\nbut barely provided), and then drove in a hackney-coach to the same\npawnbroker's who had before been recommended to her by Mrs. Atkinson,\nwho advanced her the money she desired.\n\n", "shall consider myself as the happiest man upon earth in being able to\nsupply it, and you, madam, my greatest benefactor in receiving it.\"\n\nAmelia then put the note in her pocket, and they entered into a\nconversation in which many civil things were said on both sides; but\nwhat was chiefly worth remark was, that Amelia had almost her husband\nconstantly in her mouth, and the colonel never mentioned him: the former\nseemed desirous to lay all obligations, as much as possible, to the\naccount of her husband; and the latter endeavoured", "but he found no supply of spirits to carry\non this deceit, and would have probably sunk under his attempt, had not\npoor Amelia's simplicity helped him to another fallacy, in which he had\nmuch better success.\n\nThis worthy woman very plainly perceived the disorder in her husband's\nmind; and, having no doubt of the cause of it, especially when she saw\nthe tears stand in his eyes at the sight of his children, threw her arms\nround his neck, and, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out,\n\"My dear", "just going to send for their\nvehicle, a great knocking was heard at the door, and presently Mrs.\nJames was ushered into the room.\n\nThis visit was disagreeable enough to Amelia, as it detained her from\nthe sight of her husband, for which she so eagerly longed. However,\nas she had no doubt but that the visit would be reasonably short, she\nresolved to receive the lady with all the complaisance in her power.\n\nMrs. James now behaved herself so very unlike the person that she lately\nappeared, that it", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "when she was\nperfectly recovered, about nine in the evening, when she and her husband\nwere just going to supper, she heard a most violent thundering at the\ndoor, and presently after a rustling of silk upon her staircase; at the\nsame time a female voice cried out pretty loud, \"Bless me! what, am I to\nclimb up another pair of stairs?\" upon which Amelia, who well knew\nthe voice, presently ran to the door, and ushered in Mrs. James, most\nsplendidly drest, who put on as", "an hour. She seemed, indeed, at this time, in the miserable\nsituation of one of those poor wretches who make their morning visits\nto the great to solicit favours, or perhaps to solicit the payment of\na debt, for both are alike treated as beggars, and the latter sometimes\nconsidered as the more troublesome beggars of the two.\n\nDuring her stay here, Amelia observed the house to be in great\nconfusion; a great bustle was heard above-stairs, and the maid ran up\nand down several times in a great hurry.", "a curiosity, and\nyou would think it more so could I shew you my Amelia's letter.\" He then\nsearched his pocket-book, and finding the letter among many others, he\nread it in the following words:\n\n\"'DEAR SISTER,--My mamma being much disordered, hath commanded me\nto tell you she is both shocked and surprized at your extraordinary\nrequest, or, as she chuses to call it, order for money. You know, my\ndear, she says that your marriage with this red-coat man was entirely", "assure you it is\ncontrary to my inclinations to take this money.\"\n\n\"Well, suffer me,\" cries he, \"to act this once contrary to your\ninclinations.\" He then writ a short note to Mrs. Atkinson, and\ndispatched it away immediately; which when he had done, Amelia said, \"I\nshall be glad of Mrs. Atkinson's company to breakfast; but yet I wish\nyou would oblige me in refusing this money. Take five guineas only. That\nis indeed such a sum as, if we never should pay", "elia undertook to pay the lady a visit, and\nto examine into the mystery of this conduct, which appeared to her so\nunaccountable.\n\nMrs. James received her with a degree of civility that amazed Amelia\nno less than her coldness had done before. She resolved to come to an\neclaircissement, and, having sat out some company that came in, when\nthey were alone together Amelia, after some silence and many offers to\nspeak, at last said, \"My dear Jenny (if you will now suffer me to call\nyou by so familiar", "was impossible for him to aggravate\nthe real truth.\n\nAmelia heard him patiently, without once interrupting him. When he had\nfinished, she remained silent some time: indeed, the shock she received\nfrom this story almost deprived her of the power of speaking. At last\nshe answered, \"Well, my dear, you ask my advice; I certainly can give\nyou no other than that the money must be paid.\"\n\n\"But how must it be paid?\" cries he. \"O, heavens! thou sweetest\ncreature! what, not once upbraid me", "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "separated. Amelia and Booth went together in Amelia's\ncoach, and poor Miss Matthews was obliged to retire alone, after\nhaving satisfied the demands of the governor, which in one day only had\namounted to a pretty considerable sum; for he, with great dexterity,\nproportioned the bills to the abilities of his guests.\n\nIt may seem, perhaps, wonderful to some readers, that Miss Matthews\nshould have maintained that cold reserve towards Amelia, so as barely to\nkeep within the rules of civility, instead of embracing an opportunity", "flying again into her arms, \"thou art my dearest woman, my\nbest, my beloved wife!\"\n\nAmelia, having returned all his caresses with equal kindness, told him\nshe had near eleven guineas in her purse, and asked how much she should\nfetch him. \"I would not advise you, Billy, to carry too much in your\npocket, for fear it should be a temptation to you to return to gaming,\nin order to retrieve your past losses. Let me beg you, on all accounts,\nnever to think more, if possible, on the tr", "happily, both for herself and Mr. Booth, did the excellence of this\ngood woman's disposition deceive her, and force her to see everything in\nthe most advantageous light to her husband.\n\nThe card, being now inspected, was found to contain the compliments of\nMrs. James to Mrs. Booth, with an account of her being arrived in town,\nand having brought with her a very great cold. Amelia was overjoyed at\nthe news of her arrival, and having drest herself in the utmost hurry,\nleft her children to the care of", "I never saw the lady before.\"\n\nIn this last particular, however, the pawnbroker a little savoured of\nhis profession, and made a small deviation from the truth, for, when\nthe man had asked him if he knew the lady, he answered she was some poor\nundone woman who had pawned all her cloathes to him the day before; and\nI suppose, says he, this picture is the last of her goods and chattels.\nThis hint we thought proper to give the reader, as it may chance to be\nmaterial.\n\nAmelia answered cold" ], [ "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "Then Heaven have mercy upon us all!\" cries Amelia, \"for we have no\nother friend on earth: my husband is undone, and these poor little\nwretches must be starved.\"\n\nThe doctor cast his eyes on the children, and then cried, \"I hope not\nso. I told you I must distress my circumstances, and I will distress\nthem this once on your account, and on the account of these poor little\nbabes. But things must not go on any longer in this way. You must take\nan heroic resolution. I will hire a coach for you", "surprize me!\" cries Mrs. Ellison. \"Sure, you are not in earnest?\"\n\n\"Indeed, madam,\" returned he, \"I am seriously in earnest. And, what is\nmore, I am convinced she would of her own accord refuse to go.\"\n\n\"Now, madam,\" said Mrs. Ellison, \"you are to answer for yourself: and\nI will for your husband, that, if you have a desire to go, he will not\nrefuse you.\"\n\n\"I hope, madam,\" answered Amelia with great gravity, \"", ".\n\n_In which Amelia visits her husband._\n\n\nAmelia, after much anxious thinking, in which she sometimes flattered\nherself that her husband was less guilty than she had at first imagined\nhim, and that he had some good excuse to make for himself (for, indeed,\nshe was not so able as willing to make one for him), at length\nresolved to set out for the bailiff's castle. Having therefore strictly\nrecommended the care of her children to her good landlady, she sent for\na hackney coach, and ordered the coachman to drive", "with\nextraordinary good humour, and opened his heart and cellars, I will not\ndetermine; but he gave them so hearty a welcome, and they were all so\npleased with each other, that Amelia, for that one night, trusted the\ncare of her children to the woman where they lodged, nor did the company\nrise from table till the clock struck eleven.\n\nThey then separated. Amelia and Booth, having been set down at their\nlodgings, retired into each other's arms; nor did Booth that evening, by\nthe doctor'", ". The two victors and Trent went off in their\nchairs to their several houses near Grosvenor-square, and poor Booth, in\na melancholy mood, walked home to his lodgings. He was, indeed, in such\na fit of despair, that it more than once came into his head to put an\nend to his miserable being.\n\nBut before we introduce him to Amelia we must do her the justice to\nrelate the manner in which she spent this unhappy evening. It was about\nseven when Booth left her to walk in the park; from this", "Harrison!\" cries Amelia. \"Well, then, there is an end of all\ngoodness in the world. I will never have a good opinion of any human\nbeing more.\"\n\nThe serjeant begged that he might not be detained from the captain; and\nthat, if Amelia pleased to go home, he would wait upon her. But she\ndid not chuse to see Mrs. Ellison at this time; and, after a little\nconsideration, she resolved to stay where she was; and Mrs. Atkinson\nagreed to go and fetch her children to her", "the house, and deposited in the\nentry, where I had not lain long before I was again removed and packed\nup in a cart in order to be sent five miles into the country; for I\nheard the orders given as I lay in the entry; and there I likewise heard\nthat Amelia and her mother were to follow me the next morning.\n\n\"I was unloaded from my cart, and set down with the rest of the lumber\nin a great hall. Here I remained above three hours, impatiently waiting\nfor the evening, when I determined to quit a posture which", "Booth and his wife, the moment their companion was gone, sat down to\nsupper on a piece of cold meat, the remains of their dinner. After\nwhich, over a pint of wine, they entertained themselves for a while with\nthe ridiculous behaviour of their visitant. But Amelia, declaring she\nrather saw her as the object of pity than anger, turned the discourse\nto pleasanter topics. The little actions of their children, the former\nscenes and future prospects of their life, furnished them with many\npleasant ideas; and the contemplation of Amelia's", "\nit was made Dido fall in love with AEneas?\"\n\n\"Nay, dear sir,\" said Amelia, \"do not rally me so unmercifully; think\nwhere my poor husband is now.\"\n\n\"He is,\" answered the doctor, \"where I will presently be with him.\nIn the mean time, do you pack up everything in order for your journey\nto-morrow; for if you are wise, you will not trust your husband a day\nlonger in this town--therefore to packing.\"\n\nAmelia promised she would, though indeed she", "Booth immediately ran up-stairs to his Amelia; between\nwhom I shall not attempt to describe the meeting. Nothing certainly was\never more tender or more joyful. This, however, I will observe, that a\nvery few of these exquisite moments, of which the best minds only are\ncapable, do in reality over-balance the longest enjoyments which can\never fall to the lot of the worst.\n\nWhilst Booth and his wife were feasting their souls with the most\ndelicious mutual endearments, the doctor was fallen to play with the two\nlittle children", "it!\ndid he say that, Mrs. Atkinson?\"\n\n\"Upon my honour he did,\" answered she, \"and much more than I have\nrelated.\"\n\n\"Well, I will go with you,\" cries Amelia. \"I cannot guess what this\nshould be; but I will go.\"\n\nMrs. Atkinson then poured out a thousand blessings and thanksgivings;\nand, taking hold of Amelia's hand, and eagerly kissing it, cried out,\n\"How could that fury passion drive me to quarrel with such a creature", "a whisper that\nhis confinement was at an end. \"The unfortunate accident, my dear,\" said\nhe, \"which brought this young lady to this melancholy place is entirely\ndetermined; and she is now as absolutely at her liberty as myself.\"\n\nAmelia, imputing the extreme coldness and reserve of the lady to the\ncause already mentioned, advanced still more and more in proportion as\nshe drew back; till the governor, who had withdrawn some time, returned,\nand acquainted Miss Matthews that her coach was at the door; upon which\nthe company soon", "stone walls and a sea will prevent thee from running away.'\n\n\"When I had left the doctor I repaired to my Amelia, whom I found in her\nchamber, employed in a very different manner from what she had been the\npreceding night; she was busy in packing up some trinkets in a casket,\nwhich she desired me to carry with me. This casket was her own work, and\nshe had just fastened it as I came to her.\n\n\"Her eyes very plainly discovered what had passed while she was engaged\nin her work: however, her", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", "In which Mr. Booth concludes his story._\n\n\n\"The next day the doctor set out for his parsonage, which was about\nthirty miles distant, whither Amelia and myself accompanied him, and\nwhere we stayed with him all the time of his residence there, being\nalmost three months.\n\n\"The situation of the parish under my good friend's care is very\npleasant. It is placed among meadows, washed by a clear trout-stream,\nand flanked on both sides with downs. His house, indeed, would not much\nattract the", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "either of you\nbear that separation which must, some time or other, and perhaps very\nsoon, be the lot of one of you? Have you forgot that you are both\nmortal? As for Christianity, I see you have resigned all pretensions\nto it; for I make no doubt but that you have so set your hearts on the\nhappiness you enjoy here together, that neither of you ever think a word\nof hereafter.\"\n\nAmelia now burst into tears; upon which Booth begged the doctor to\nproceed no farther. Indeed, he would not have wanted the caution", "justice\narrived to take her up, the messenger of which returned with the news\nof her flight, highly to the satisfaction of Amelia, and consequently of\nBooth, and, indeed, not greatly to the grief of the doctor.\n\nAbout a week afterwards Booth and Amelia, with their children, and\nCaptain Atkinson and his lady, all set forward together for Amelia's\nhouse, where they arrived amidst the acclamations of all the neighbours,\nand every public demonstration of joy.\n\nThey found the house ready prepared to receive them by At", ", not soon: a week\nis an age;--but yet the happy day may come. It shall, it must, it will!\nYes, Billy, we shall meet never to part again, even in this world, I\nhope.' Pardon my weakness, Miss Matthews, but upon my soul I cannot help\nit,\" cried he, wiping his eyes. \"Well, I wonder at your patience, and I\nwill try it no longer. Amelia, tired out with so long a struggle\nbetween variety of passions, and having not closed her eyes during three\nsuccessive nights," ], [ "the house, and deposited in the\nentry, where I had not lain long before I was again removed and packed\nup in a cart in order to be sent five miles into the country; for I\nheard the orders given as I lay in the entry; and there I likewise heard\nthat Amelia and her mother were to follow me the next morning.\n\n\"I was unloaded from my cart, and set down with the rest of the lumber\nin a great hall. Here I remained above three hours, impatiently waiting\nfor the evening, when I determined to quit a posture which", "In which Mr. Booth concludes his story._\n\n\n\"The next day the doctor set out for his parsonage, which was about\nthirty miles distant, whither Amelia and myself accompanied him, and\nwhere we stayed with him all the time of his residence there, being\nalmost three months.\n\n\"The situation of the parish under my good friend's care is very\npleasant. It is placed among meadows, washed by a clear trout-stream,\nand flanked on both sides with downs. His house, indeed, would not much\nattract the", "us (so she imagined) along the road\nleading to the town; but that being very dirty, and a violent storm of\nrain coming, she took shelter in an alehouse about half a mile from her\nown house, whither she sent for her coach; she then drove, together with\nher daughter, to town, where, soon after her arrival, she sent for the\ndoctor, her usual privy counsellor in all her affairs. They sat up all\nnight together, the doctor endeavouring, by arguments and persuasions,\nto bring Mrs. Harris to reason;", "\nshe knew very well where she was; and, a little farther striking into\nanother lane to the right, she said that would lead us to a house where\nwe should be both safe and unsuspected. I followed her directions, and\nwe at length came to a little cottage about three miles distant from\nMrs. Harris's house.\n\n\"As it now rained very violently, we entered this cottage, in which we\nespied a light, without any ceremony. Here we found an elderly woman\nsitting by herself at a little fire, who had no sooner viewed us than\n", "w you what sort of foundations most\nstories have.\"\n\nBooth told her he had heard some such thing himself, and then continued\nhis story as in the next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nChapter vi.\n\n_Containing many surprising adventures._\n\n\n\"There,\" continued he, \"I remained the whole day in hopes of a\nhappiness, the expected approach of which gave me such a delight that I\nwould not have exchanged my poor lodgings for the finest palace in the\nuniverse.\n\n\"A little after it was dark Mrs. Harris arrived", "body, that I found was a mere bugbear; but all the rest was\nliterally true. I sent immediately for the same gentleman that I\nrecommended to Mr. Booth, left the care of burying the corpse to him,\nand brought my friend and her little boy immediately away to my own\nhouse, where she remained some months in the most miserable condition.\nI then prevailed with her to retire into the country, and procured her\na lodging with a friend at St Edmundsbury, the air and gaiety of which\nplace by degrees recovered her; and she", "him he would remember him as long as he stayed in the regiment.\n\nThus ended this trifling adventure, which some readers will, perhaps,\nbe pleased at seeing related at full length. None, I think, can\nfail drawing one observation from it, namely, how capable the most\ninsignificant accident is of disturbing human happiness, and of\nproducing the most unexpected and dreadful events. A reflexion which may\nserve to many moral and religious uses.\n\nThis accident produced the first acquaintance between the mistress of\nthe house and her lodgers; for", "errand. The\ncompany now all broke up, and attended my father, all endeavouring to\ngive him hopes that no mischief had happened. They searched the whole\nparish, but in vain; they could neither see my mother, nor hear any news\nof her. My father returned home in a state little short of distraction.\nHis friends in vain attempted to administer either advice or comfort; he\nthrew himself on the floor in the most bitter agonies of despair.\n\n\"Whilst he lay in this condition, my sister and myself lying by him, all\nequ", "this amiable office he had been engaged near an\nhour, and was at that very time lying along on the floor, and his little\nthings crawling and playing about him, when a most violent knock\nwas heard at the door; and immediately a footman, running upstairs,\nacquainted him that his lady was taken violently ill, and carried into\nMrs. Chenevix's toy-shop.\n\nBooth no sooner heard this account, which was delivered with great\nappearance of haste and earnestness, than he leapt suddenly from the\nfloor, and,", "\nmatter to take him, for that to his knowledge he was as shy a cock as\nany in England. The subaltern immediately acquainted Trent with the\nbusiness in which he was employed by the colonel; upon which Trent\nenjoined him the moment he had set him to give immediate notice to the\nbailiff, which he agreed to, and performed accordingly.\n\nThe bailiff, on receiving the notice, immediately set out for his stand\nat an alehouse within three doors of Miss Matthews's lodgings; at which,\nunfortunately for poor Booth,", "oured lady in this poor place.'\n\n\"For my own part, no human being was then an object of envy to me, and\neven Amelia seemed to be in pretty good spirits; she softly whispered to\nme that she perceived there might be happiness in a cottage.\"\n\n\"A cottage!\" cries Miss Matthews, sighing, \"a cottage, with the man one\nloves, is a palace.\"\n\n\"When supper was ended,\" continued Booth, \"the good woman began to think\nof our further wants, and very earnestly recommended her bed to us,\nsay", "murder; but do you\nknow the cause, Mr. Booth? Have you since your return to England visited\nthat country where we formerly knew one another? tell me, do you know my\nwretched story? tell me that, my friend.\"\n\nBooth hesitated for an answer; indeed, he had heard some imperfect\nstories, not much to her advantage. She waited not till he had formed\na speech; but cried, \"Whatever you may have heard, you cannot be\nacquainted with all the strange accidents which have occasioned your\nseeing me in a place which at", ", having waited above an hour for her husband, concluded, as he\nwas the most punctual man alive, that he had met with some engagement\nabroad, and sat down to her meal with her children; which, as it was\nalways uncomfortable in the absence of her husband, was very short;\nso that, before his return, all the apparatus of dining was entirely\nremoved.\n\nBooth sat some time with his wife, expecting every minute when the\nlittle maid would make her appearance; at last, curiosity, I believe,\nrather than appetite, made him ask how long it was", "our last parting was so unlikely that I\nshould ever have been found in; nor can you know the cause of all that\nI have uttered, and which, I am convinced, you never expected to have\nheard from my mouth. If these circumstances raise your curiosity, I will\nsatisfy it.\"\n\nHe answered, that curiosity was too mean a word to express his ardent\ndesire of knowing her story. Upon which, with very little previous\nceremony, she began to relate what is written in the following chapter.\n\nBut before we put an end to this it may be", "began\nto replace all things in their order; and little Emily hugging her watch\nwith great fondness, declared she would never part with it any more.\n\nThus ended this odd adventure, not entirely to the satisfaction of\nBooth; for, besides his curiosity, which, when thoroughly roused, is a\nvery troublesome passion, he had, as is I believe usual with all persons\nin his circumstances, several doubts and apprehensions of he knew not\nwhat. Indeed, fear is never more uneasy than when it doth not certainly\nknow its object; for on such occasions", "spirits, and\nhad now almost regained his former degree of chearfulness, when the\nfollowing letter arrived, again to torment him:\n\n\n\"DEAR BILLY,\n\n\"To convince you I am the most reasonable of women, I have given you up\nthree whole days to the unmolested possession of my fortunate rival; I\ncan refrain no longer from letting you know that I lodge in Dean Street,\nnot far from the church, at the sign of the Pelican and Trumpet, where I\nexpect this evening to see you.\n\n\"Believe me", "I then acquainted them with\nmy purpose of lying concealed in the house, in order to watch an\nopportunity of obtaining a private interview with Amelia.\n\n[Illustration: They opened The Hamper]\n\n\"In the situation in which these two delinquents stood, you may be\nassured it was not difficult for me to seal up their lips. In short,\nthey agreed to whatever I proposed. I lay that evening in my dear\nAmelia's bedchamber, and was in the morning conveyed into an old\nlumber-garret, where I", "which he was lately recovered.\n\n\"I have said so much,\" continued Booth, \"of the boy's character, that\nyou may not be surprised at some stories which I shall tell you of him\nhereafter.\n\n\"I am going now, madam, to relate to you one of those strange accidents\nwhich are produced by such a train of circumstances, that mere chance\nhath been thought incapable of bringing them together; and which have\ntherefore given birth, in superstitious minds, to Fortune, and to\nseveral other imaginary beings.\n\n\"We", ", had half cried her eyes\nout; for, though the girl had opened the door to them, as it was\nalmost dark, she had not taken any notice of this phenomenon in her\ncountenance.\n\nThe girl now fell down upon her knees and cried, \"For Heaven's sake,\nmadam, do not be angry with me. Indeed, I was left alone in the house;\nand, hearing somebody knock at the door, I opened it--I am sure thinking\nno harm. I did not know but it might have been you, or my master, or\nMadam Ell", "comes to, you must take the consequence.--But for my\npart, I know I would not trust Robinson with twopence untold.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" cries Booth; \"who is Robinson?\"\n\n\"And you don't know Robinson?\" answered the keeper with great emotion.\nTo which Booth replying in the negative, the keeper, after some tokens\nof amazement, cried out, \"Well, captain, I must say you are the best at\nit of all the gentlemen I ever saw. However, I will tell you this: the\nlaw" ], [ ", doth my Amelia think I\ncould be prevailed on to leave her? No, my Amelia, he is the only man on\nearth who could have prevailed on me; but I know his house, his purse,\nhis protection, will be all at your command. And as for any dislike\nyou have conceived to his wife, let not that be any objection; for I\nam convinced he will not suffer her to insult you; besides, she is\nextremely well bred, and, how much soever she may hate you in her heart,\nshe will", "\n\"Why, what can I mean,\" answered Amelia, \"but your marriage with\nserjeant Atkinson?\"\n\n\"With serjeant Atkinson!\" cries Mrs. Ellison eagerly, \"my marriage with\na serjeant!\"\n\n\"Well, with Mr. Atkinson, then, Captain Atkinson, if you please; for so\nI hope to see him.\"\n\n\"And have you really no better opinion of me,\" said Mrs. Ellison, \"than\nto imagine me capable of such condescension? What have I done, dear\nM", "Amelia answered, she did so.\n\n\"I think likewise, madam,\" said Mrs. Atkinson, \"you was acquainted with\nthe colonel's lady?\"\n\nAmelia answered that she had been extremely intimate with her abroad.\n\n\"Is she young and handsome?\" said Mrs. Atkinson. \"In short, pray, was it\na match of love or convenience?\"\n\nAmelia answered, entirely of love, she believed, on his side; for that\nthe lady had little or no fortune.\n\n\"I am very glad to hear it,\" said Mrs.", ". Harris's, and that the whole town said he was shortly\nto be married to Amelia.\n\n\"I now soon perceived how much superior my love for Amelia was to every\nother passion; poor Nancy's idea disappeared in a moment; I quitted the\ndear lifeless corpse, over which I had shed a thousand tears, left the\ncare of her funeral to others, and posted, I may almost say flew, back\nto Amelia, and alighted at the doctor's house, as he had desired me in\nhis letter.\n\n\"The good man present", "I mean,\" answered he: \"for a short time perhaps. The\ncolonel himself will take care it shall not be long--for I know his\nheart; I shall scarce have more joy in receiving you back than he will\nhave in restoring you to my arms. In the mean time, he will not only be\na father to my children, but a husband to you.\"\n\n\"A husband to me!\" said Amelia.\n\n\"Yes, my dear; a kind, a fond, a tender, an affectionate husband. If\nI had not the most certain assurances of this", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "surprize me!\" cries Mrs. Ellison. \"Sure, you are not in earnest?\"\n\n\"Indeed, madam,\" returned he, \"I am seriously in earnest. And, what is\nmore, I am convinced she would of her own accord refuse to go.\"\n\n\"Now, madam,\" said Mrs. Ellison, \"you are to answer for yourself: and\nI will for your husband, that, if you have a desire to go, he will not\nrefuse you.\"\n\n\"I hope, madam,\" answered Amelia with great gravity, \"", ". The two victors and Trent went off in their\nchairs to their several houses near Grosvenor-square, and poor Booth, in\na melancholy mood, walked home to his lodgings. He was, indeed, in such\na fit of despair, that it more than once came into his head to put an\nend to his miserable being.\n\nBut before we introduce him to Amelia we must do her the justice to\nrelate the manner in which she spent this unhappy evening. It was about\nseven when Booth left her to walk in the park; from this", ", at least all those\nincidents which are most worth relating to you.\n\n\"If the vulgar opinion of the fatality in marriage had ever any\nfoundation, it surely appeared in my marriage with my Amelia. I knew her\nin the first dawn of her beauty; and, I believe, madam, she had as much\nas ever fell to the share of a woman; but, though I always admired her,\nit was long without any spark of love. Perhaps the general admiration\nwhich at that time pursued her, the respect paid her by persons of the\nhighest", "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "his good qualities, I will myself be bound for them; and I make not the\nleast doubt, as you have owned to me yourself that you have placed your\naffections on him, you will be one of the happiest women in the world.\"\n\n\"Upon my honour,\" cries Mrs. Ellison very gravely, \"I do not understand\none word of what you mean.\"\n\n\"Upon my honour, you astonish me,\" said Amelia; \"but I have done.\"\n\n\"Nay then,\" said the other, \"I insist upon knowing what you mean.\"\n", "to the deceit, and acknowledged\nthe truth of what he had mentioned; but said that the pleasure she\nshould have in complying with his desires would highly recompense any\ndissatisfaction which might arise on any other account; and shortly\nafter ended the conversation on this subject with her chearfully\npromising to fulfil his promise.\n\nIn reality, poor Amelia had now a most unpleasant task to undertake;\nfor she thought it absolutely necessary to conceal from her husband\nthe opinion she had conceived of the colonel. For, as she knew the\ncharacters,", "myself, and, eagerly kissing her hand, I cried--Upon my soul,\nmadam, you never appeared to me so lovely as at this instant. Nothing\nmore remarkable passed at this visit; but I sincerely believe we were\nneither of us hereafter indifferent to each other.\n\n\"Many months, however, passed after this, before I ever thought\nseriously of making her my wife. Not that I wanted sufficient love for\nAmelia. Indeed it arose from the vast affection I bore her. I considered\nmy own as a desperate fortune, hers as entirely dependent on", "Mrs. Harris that I should settle all my\nAmelia's fortune on her, except a certain sum, which was to be laid out\nin my advancement in the army; but, as our marriage was carried on in\nthe manner you have heard, no such agreement was ever executed. And\nsince I was become Amelia's husband not a word of this matter was ever\nmentioned by the old lady; and as for myself, I declare I had not yet\nawakened from that delicious dream of bliss in which the possession of\nAmelia had lulled me.\"\n\nHere Miss", "wife, but she cried out with great sincerity, \"Well, my dear, I will\nsay one thing for you, that I believe from my soul, though you have no\nlearning, you have the best understanding of any man upon earth; and I\nmust own I think the latter far the more profitable of the two.\"\n\nFar different was the idea she entertained of the doctor, whom, from\nthis day, she considered as a conceited pedant; nor could all Amelia's\nendeavours ever alter her sentiments.\n\nThe doctor now took his leave of Bo", "do this was still a question. It was not sure, at least he\nfeared it was not, that Amelia herself would readily consent to this;\nand so far from persuading her to such a measure, he could not bear even\nto propose it. At length his determination was to acquaint his wife with\nthe whole affair, and to ask her consent, by way of asking her advice;\nfor he was well assured she could find no other means of extricating him\nout of his dilemma. This he accordingly did, representing the affair as\nbad as he could; though, indeed, it", "be, necessity compels us to\nsubmit to them. I know in what light a woman, who loves like you, must\nconsider such a proposal; and yet how many instances have you of women\nwho, from the same motives, have submitted to the same!\"\n\n\"What can you mean, Mr. Booth?\" cries Amelia, trembling.\n\n\"Need I explain my meaning to you more?\" answered Booth.--\"Did I not say\nI must give up my Amelia?\"\n\n\"Give me up!\" said she.\n\n\"For a time only,", "proceedings. Besides, my promise was only conditional; and I do not know\nwhether I could otherwise have kept it; for I expect an old friend every\nday who comes to town twenty miles on foot to see me, whom I shall not\npart with on any account; for, as he is very poor, he may imagine I\ntreat him with disrespect.\"\n\n\"Well, sir,\" cries Amelia, \"I must admire you and love you for your\ngoodness.\"\n\n\"Must you love me?\" cries the doctor. \"I could cure you now in a", "Mrs. James; and\nI must confess she hath not behaved to you lately as you might have\nexpected; but you ought to pass all that by for the sake of her\nhusband, to whom we have both so many obligations, who is the worthiest,\nhonestest, and most generous fellow in the universe, and the best friend\nto me that ever man had.\"\n\nAmelia, who had far other suspicions, and began to fear that her husband\nhad discovered them, was highly pleased when she saw him taking a wrong\nscent. She gave, therefore, a little in", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am" ], [ "reduced in her\ncircumstances and obliged to let out part of her house in lodgings, she\nwas born of a good family and had some considerable relations.\n\nHis lordship was not himself in any office of state, but his fortune\ngave him great authority with those who were. Mrs. Ellison, therefore,\nvery bluntly took an opportunity of recommending Booth to his\nconsideration. She took the first hint from my lord's calling the\ngentleman captain; to which she answered, \"Ay, I wish your lordship\nwould make him", "the taverns for either\neatables or wind. The captain there need not have been so shy of owning\nhimself when he first came in; we have had captains and other great\ngentlemen here before now; and no shame to them, though I say it. Many a\ngreat gentleman is sometimes found in places that don't become them half\nso well, let me tell them that, Captain Booth, let me tell them that.\"\n\n\"I see, sir,\" answered Booth, a little discomposed, \"that you are\nacquainted with my title", "horns, and ordered the two followers, who were now got again on\ntheir legs, to walk down-stairs.\n\n\"So, captain,\" says the doctor, \"when last we parted, I believe we\nneither of us expected to meet in such a place as this.\"\n\n\"Indeed, doctor,\" cries Booth, \"I did not expect to have been sent\nhither by the gentleman who did me that favour.\"\n\n\"How so, sir?\" said the doctor; \"you was sent hither by some person, I\nsuppose, to whom you was inde", "I desired him to let me look on the\npicture, which he readily did--and I no sooner cast my eyes upon it,\nthan the strong resemblance struck me, and I knew it to be Mrs. Booth.\"\n\n\"Mrs. Booth! what Mrs. Booth?\" cries the doctor.\n\n\"Captain Booth's lady, the captain who is now below,\" said the other.\n\n\"How?\" cries the doctor with great impetuosity.\n\n\"Have patience,\" said the man, \"and you shall hear all. I expressed some\nsur", ", please many readers to see drawn at too full a length. It\nis sufficient to say that this excellent woman not only used her utmost\nendeavours to stifle and conceal her own concern, but said and did\neverything in her power to allay that of her husband.\n\nBooth was, at this time, to meet a person whom we have formerly\nmentioned in the course of our history. This gentleman had a place\nin the War-office, and pretended to be a man of great interest and\nconsequence; by which means he did not only receive great respect", "certain odious unmanlike practices, not fit to be named,\nwere giving him various kinds of discipline, and would probably have put\nan end to him, had he not been rescued out of their hands by authority.\n\nWhen this bustle was a little allayed, Mr. Booth took notice of a young\nwoman in rags sitting on the ground, and supporting the head of an\nold man in her lap, who appeared to be giving up the ghost. These, Mr.\nRobinson informed him, were father and daughter; that the latter was\ncommitted for stealing a lo", "\n\n\n\n\nChapter vii.\n\n_In which Booth receives a visit from Captain Trent_.\n\n\nWhen Booth grew perfectly cool, and began to reflect that he had broken\nhis word to the doctor, in having made the discovery to his wife\nwhich we have seen in the last chapter, that thought gave him great\nuneasiness; and now, to comfort him, Captain Trent came to make him a\nvisit.\n\nThis was, indeed, almost the last man in the world whose company he\nwished for; for he was the only man he was ashamed", "comes to, you must take the consequence.--But for my\npart, I know I would not trust Robinson with twopence untold.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" cries Booth; \"who is Robinson?\"\n\n\"And you don't know Robinson?\" answered the keeper with great emotion.\nTo which Booth replying in the negative, the keeper, after some tokens\nof amazement, cried out, \"Well, captain, I must say you are the best at\nit of all the gentlemen I ever saw. However, I will tell you this: the\nlaw", "his good humour, without in the least\ndisordering his understanding, and made him such delightful company,\nthat, though it was past one in the morning, neither his wife nor Mrs.\nEllison thought of their beds during a whole hour.\n\nEarly the next morning the serjeant came to Mr. Booth's lodgings, and\nwith a melancholy countenance acquainted him that he had been the night\nbefore at an alehouse, where he heard one Mr. Murphy, an attorney,\ndeclare that he would get a warrant backed against one Captain", "that he had not been heard in the\ntempest, came into the room. The moment Amelia saw him, the tears which\nhad been gathering for some time, burst in a torrent from her eyes,\nwhich, however, she endeavoured to conceal with her handkerchief. The\nentry of Booth turned all in an instant into a silent picture, in which\nthe first figure which struck the eyes of the captain was the serjeant\non his knees to his wife.\n\nBooth immediately cried, \"What's the meaning of this?\" but received no\nanswer. He", "from Murphy, whom he had met that evening, and who assured the serjeant\nthat, if he was desirous of recovering the debt which he had before\npretended to have on Booth, he might shortly have an opportunity, for\nthat there was to be a very strong petition to the board the next time\nthey sat. Murphy said further that he need not fear having his money,\nfor that, to his certain knowledge, the captain had several things of\ngreat value, and even his children had gold watches.\n\nThis greatly alarmed Booth, and still more when the serje", "which he became possessed of the\nletter, and to read it to him; on which occasion, he thought he should\neasily discern by the behaviour of the colonel whether he had been\nsuspected either by Amelia or the doctor without a cause; but as for\nhis wife, he fully resolved not to reveal the secret to her till the\ndoctor's return.\n\nWhile Booth was deeply engaged by himself in these meditations, Captain\nTrent came up to him, and familiarly slapped him on the shoulder.\n\nThey were soon joined by a third gentleman,", "--but I am impatient to know something.\"\n\n\"What, madam?\" cries Booth; \"if I can give you any satisfaction--\"\n\n\"No, no,\" said she, \"I must hear all; I would not for the world break\nthe thread of your story. Besides, I am afraid to ask--Pray, pray, sir,\ngo on.\"\n\n\"Well, madam,\" cries Booth, \"I think I was mentioning the extraordinary\nacts of friendship done me by Captain James; nor can I help taking\nnotice of the almost unparalleled", "proceed farther with our history it may be proper to look back\na little, in order to account for the late conduct of Doctor Harrison;\nwhich, however inconsistent it may have hitherto appeared, when examined\nto the bottom will be found, I apprehend, to be truly congruous with\nall the rules of the most perfect prudence as well as with the most\nconsummate goodness.\n\nWe have already partly seen in what light Booth had been represented to\nthe doctor abroad. Indeed, the accounts which were sent of the captain,\nas well by the curate as by a", "leaving his children, roaring at the news of their mother's\nillness, in strict charge with his maid, he ran as fast as his legs\ncould carry him to the place; or towards the place rather: for, before\nhe arrived at the shop, a gentleman stopt him full butt, crying,\n\"Captain, whither so fast?\"--Booth answered eagerly, \"Whoever you are,\nfriend, don't ask me any questions now.\"--\"You must pardon me, captain,\"\nanswered the gentleman; \"but I have a little business with your\n", "\nWhen Mrs. Vincent had recovered her faculties, she perceived Booth\nstanding silent, with a mixture of concern and astonishment in his\ncountenance; then addressing herself to him with an air of most\nbewitching softness, of which she was a perfect mistress, she said,\n\"I do not wonder at your amazement, Captain Booth, nor indeed at the\nconcern which you so plainly discover for me; for I well know the\ngoodness of your nature: but, O, Mr. Booth! believe me, when you know\nwhat hath happened since", "into my hands without letting the captain know\nanything of the matter.\"\n\nThe governor promised to obey her commands in every particular; nay, he\nwas so very industrious, that, though dinner was just then coming upon\nthe table, at her earnest request he set out immediately on the purpose,\nand went as he said in pursuit of the lawyer.\n\nAll the other company assembled at table as usual, where poor Booth was\nthe only person out of spirits. This was imputed by all present to a\nwrong cause; nay, Miss Matthews herself either could", "Booth himself; but concealed all that more immediately\nrelated to Amelia.\n\n\"Atkinson,\" cries Booth, \"I cannot be angry with you, for I know you\nlove me, and I have many obligations to you; but you have done wrong\nin censuring the colonel for what he said of me. I deserve all that he\nsaid, and his censures proceeded from his friendship.\"\n\n\"But it was not so kind, sir,\" said Atkinson, \"to say such things to me\nwho am but a serjeant, and at such a", "and will have this explained,\" cries Booth. \"I have too good\nan opinion of you, Atkinson, to think you would drop such things as you\nhave without some reason--and I will know it.\"\n\n\"I am sorry I have dropt a word,\" cries Atkinson. \"I am sure I did not\nintend it; and your honour hath drawn it from me unawares.\"\n\n\"Indeed, Atkinson,\" cries Booth, \"you have made me very uneasy, and I\nmust be satisfied.\"\n\n\"Then, sir", ", I cannot help saying I hope to be\nengaged in another place.\"\n\n\"I promise you, sir,\" answered the other, \"I shall rejoice at your\nliberty, though I am a loser by it.\"\n\n\"Why, as to that matter,\" cries Bondum with a sneer, \"I fancy, captain,\nyou may engage yourself to the gentleman without any fear of breaking\nyour word; for I am very much mistaken if we part to-day.\"\n\n\"Pardon me, my good friend,\" said Booth, \"but I expect my bail every\n" ], [ "at poor Miss Emily's accident; for\nshe will still be the handsomest woman in England. This speech of mine\nwas afterwards variously repeated, by some to my honour, and by others\nrepresented in a contrary light; indeed, it was often reported to be\nmuch ruder than it was. However, it at length reached Amelia's ears.\nShe said she was very much obliged to me, since I could have so much\ncompassion for her as to be rude to a lady on her account.\n\n\"About a month after the accident, when Amelia", ", Amelia began gently to\nchide me for having concealed my illness from her; for, in three letters\nwhich I had writ her since the accident had happened, there was not\nthe least mention of it, or any hint given by which she could possibly\nconclude I was otherwise than in perfect health. And when I had excused\nmyself, by assigning the true reason, she cried--'O Mr. Booth! and do\nyou know so little of your Amelia as to think I could or would survive\nyou? Would it not be better for one dreadful sight to break my", ".\n\n_In which Amelia visits her husband._\n\n\nAmelia, after much anxious thinking, in which she sometimes flattered\nherself that her husband was less guilty than she had at first imagined\nhim, and that he had some good excuse to make for himself (for, indeed,\nshe was not so able as willing to make one for him), at length\nresolved to set out for the bailiff's castle. Having therefore strictly\nrecommended the care of her children to her good landlady, she sent for\na hackney coach, and ordered the coachman to drive", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", ", the governess of the mansions had, out of curiosity,\nfollowed her into the room, and was the only useful person present on\nthis occasion: she immediately called for water, and ran to the lady's\nassistance, fell to loosening her stays, and performed all the offices\nproper at such a season; which had so good an effect, that Amelia soon\nrecovered the disorder which the violent agitation of her spirits had\ncaused, and found herself alive and awake in her husband's arms.\n\nSome tender caresses and a soft whisper or", "\"But where is the strange accident?\" cries Miss Matthews; \"sure you have\nraised more curiosity than you have satisfied.\"\n\n\"Indeed, madam,\" answered he, \"your reproof is just; I had like to\nhave forgotten it; but you cannot wonder at me when you reflect on that\ninteresting part of my story which I am now relating.--But before I\nmention this accident I must tell you what happened after Amelia's\nescape from her mother's house. Mrs. Harris at first ran out into the\nlane among her servants, and pursued", "you think, Miss Matthews, that the misfortune of my Amelia was\ncapable of any aggravation? I assure you, she hath often told me it\nwas aggravated with a circumstance which outweighed all the other\ningredients. This was the cruel insults she received from some of her\nmost intimate acquaintance, several of whom, after many distortions and\ngrimaces, have turned their heads aside, unable to support their secret\ntriumph, and burst into a loud laugh in her hearing.\"\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried Miss Matt", "an\naccident. As it had been printed it may as well appear: for though\nit has no great value it may interest some readers as an additional\nillustration of Fielding's dislike to doctors.--ED.\n\n_Containing a brace of doctors and much physical matter._\n\n\nHe now returned with all his uneasiness to Amelia, whom he found in a\ncondition very little adapted to relieve or comfort him. That poor woman\nwas now indeed under very great apprehensions for her child, whose fever\nnow began to rage very violently: and what was", ", not doubting but it arose in me from the same ostentation, they\nbegan to hate me likewise, and to turn my equipage into ridicule,\nasserting that my horses, which were as well matched as any in the\nkingdom, were of different colours and sizes, with much more of that\nkind of wit, the only basis of which is lying.\n\n\"But what will appear most surprizing to you, madam, was, that the\ncurate's wife, who, being lame, had more use of the coach than my Amelia", "side. Amelia had some\ndifficulty to conquer the effects of her own surprize on this occasion;\nfor a more ghastly and horrible sight than the bed presented could not\nbe conceived.\n\nAmelia sent Booth to call up the maid of the house, in order to lend\nher assistance; but before his return Mrs. Atkinson began to come to\nherself; and soon after, to the inexpressible joy of the serjeant, it\nwas discovered she had no wound. Indeed, the delicate nose of Amelia\nsoon made", "came to\nmy assistance, and conveyed me to my room, where a surgeon immediately\nattended me.\n\n\"The injury I had now received was much more dangerous in my surgeon's\nopinion than the former; it caused me to spit blood, and was attended\nwith a fever, and other bad symptoms; so that very fatal consequences\nwere apprehended.\n\n\"In this situation, the image of my Amelia haunted me day and night; and\nthe apprehensions of never seeing her more were so intolerable, that I\nhad thoughts of", "\"I am really sorry for this accident,\" said Mrs. James, \"and (though I\nknow not how to mention it) I beg you'll give me leave to offer you any\nlinen of mine till you can make new of your own.\"\n\nAmelia thanked Mrs. James, but declined the favour, saying, she should\ndo well enough at home; and that, as she had no servant now to take\ncare of her children, she could not, nor would not, leave them on any\naccount.\n\n\"Then bring master and miss with you,\" said Mrs. James. \"", "wanted not any warning\nfor her journey on this account; for when she packed up herself in\nthe coach, she packed up her all. However, she did not think proper to\nmention this to the doctor; for, as he was now in pretty good humour,\nshe did not care to venture again discomposing his temper.\n\nThe doctor then set out for Gray's-inn-lane, and, as soon as he was\ngone, Amelia began to consider of her incapacity to take a journey in\nher present situation without even a clean shift. At last she resolved,\n", "and I beg the favour of seeing you as soon as possible\nto advise with you upon it. I am\n\n\"Your most obliged and dutiful daughter,\n\n\"AMELIA BOOTH.\"\n\nThe doctor's answer was, that he would wait on the lady directly; and\nthen, turning to his friend, he asked him if he would not take a walk in\nthe Park before dinner. \"I must go,\" says he, \"to the lady who was with\nus last night; for I am afraid, by her letter, some bad accident hath\nhappened to her", "madam, what she may do with her head, but I am\nconvinced she will never more turn up her nose at her betters.' Another\ncried, 'What a very proper match might now be made between Amelia and a\ncertain captain,' who had unfortunately received an injury in the same\npart, though from no shameful cause. Many other sarcasms were thrown\nout, very unworthy to be repeated. I was hurt with perceiving so much\nmalice in human shape, and cried out very bluntly, Indeed, ladies, you\nneed not express such satisfaction", "how inexcusable this behaviour is in you, who\nare possessed in your own wife of the most inestimable jewel.\n\n\"Yours, &c.\n\n\"T. JAMES.\n\n\"I shall bring pistols with me.\"\n\n\nIt is not easy to describe the agitation of Amelia's mind when she read\nthis letter. She threw herself into her chair, turned as pale as death,\nbegan to tremble all over, and had just power enough left to tap the\nbottle of wine, which she had hitherto preserved", "when she was\nperfectly recovered, about nine in the evening, when she and her husband\nwere just going to supper, she heard a most violent thundering at the\ndoor, and presently after a rustling of silk upon her staircase; at the\nsame time a female voice cried out pretty loud, \"Bless me! what, am I to\nclimb up another pair of stairs?\" upon which Amelia, who well knew\nthe voice, presently ran to the door, and ushered in Mrs. James, most\nsplendidly drest, who put on as", "just going to send for their\nvehicle, a great knocking was heard at the door, and presently Mrs.\nJames was ushered into the room.\n\nThis visit was disagreeable enough to Amelia, as it detained her from\nthe sight of her husband, for which she so eagerly longed. However,\nas she had no doubt but that the visit would be reasonably short, she\nresolved to receive the lady with all the complaisance in her power.\n\nMrs. James now behaved herself so very unlike the person that she lately\nappeared, that it", "grievous accident that ever befel me, the loss of my\npoor dear Charley.\" Here she made a full stop, and the tears ran down\ninto her bosom.\n\nAmelia was silent a few minutes, while she gave the lady time to vent\nher passion; after which she began to pour forth a vast profusion of\nacknowledgments for the trouble she had taken in relating her history,\nbut chiefly for the motive which had induced her to it, and for the kind\nwarning which she had given her by the little note which Mrs. Bennet had\nsent", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am" ], [ "contrivances to seduce her virtue; especially if he\ndid this under the colour of entertaining the highest friendship for\nyourself.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" cries Trent. \"It is human nature.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it is,\" cries Booth; \"but it is human nature depraved, stript\nof all its worth, and loveliness, and dignity, and degraded down to a\nlevel with the vilest brutes.\"\n\n\"Look ye, Booth,\" cries Trent, \"I would not be misunderstood. I think,\nwhen I", "very unusual thing with him, grew\nintoxicated with liquor; most of the men were in the same condition;\nnay, I myself drank more than I was accustomed to, enough to inflame,\nthough not to disorder. I lost my former bed-fellow, my sister, and--you\nmay, I think, guess the rest--the villain found means to steal to my\nchamber, and I was undone.\n\n\"Two months I passed in this detested commerce, buying, even then, my\nguilty, half-tasted pleasures at too dear", "candid reader will be pleased to weigh attentively\nthe several unlucky circumstances which concurred so critically, that\nFortune seemed to have used her utmost endeavours to ensnare poor\nBooth's constancy. Let the reader set before his eyes a fine young\nwoman, in a manner, a first love, conferring obligations and using every\nart to soften, to allure, to win, and to enflame; let him consider the\ntime and place; let him remember that Mr. Booth was a young fellow\nin the highest vigour of life", "all was the\neffect of a long, regular, premeditated design.\n\n\"You may remember, madam, I told you that we were recommended to Mrs.\nEllison by the woman at whose house we had before lodged. This woman, it\nseems, was one of my lord's pimps, and had before introduced me to his\nlordship's notice.\n\n\"You are to know then, madam, that this villain, this lord, now confest\nto me that he had first seen me in the gallery at the oratorio, whither", "perhaps, be tedious to the reader to run through the\nwhole process, which was not indeed in the most romantick stile. The\nlover seemed to consider his mistress as a mere woman of this world, and\nseemed rather to apply to her avarice and ambition than to her softer\npassions.\n\nAs he was not so careful to conceal his true voice as the lady was,\nshe soon discovered that this lover of her's was no other than her old\nfriend the peer, and presently a thought suggested itself to her\nof making an advantage", "agantly charmed with her person, that he resolved, whatever was\nthe cost or the consequence, he would possess her.\n\nHis lordship, however, preserved some caution in his management of this\naffair; more, perhaps, than was necessary. As for the husband, none\nwas requisite, for he knew all he could; and, with regard to the\nwife herself, as she had for some time perceived the decrease of her\nhusband's affection (for few women are, I believe, to be imposed upon\nin that matter), she was not displeased to find the", "he was master,\nand appeared before his mistress arrayed in all the brightness of\npeerage; a sight whose charms she had not the power to resist, and the\nconsequences are only to be imagined. In short, the same scene which\nJupiter acted with his above-mentioned mistress of old was more than\nbeginning, when Trent burst from the closet into which he had conveyed\nhimself, and unkindly interrupted the action.\n\nHis lordship presently run to his sword; but Trent, with great calmness,\nanswered, \"", "spirits, and\nhad now almost regained his former degree of chearfulness, when the\nfollowing letter arrived, again to torment him:\n\n\n\"DEAR BILLY,\n\n\"To convince you I am the most reasonable of women, I have given you up\nthree whole days to the unmolested possession of my fortunate rival; I\ncan refrain no longer from letting you know that I lodge in Dean Street,\nnot far from the church, at the sign of the Pelican and Trumpet, where I\nexpect this evening to see you.\n\n\"Believe me", "to be the very person of whom Suckling wrote the following lines, where,\nspeaking of Cupid, he says,\n\n All his lovely looks, his pleasing fires,\n All his sweet motions, all his taking smiles;\n All that awakes, all that inflames desires,\n All that sweetly commands, all that beguiles,\n He does into one pair of eyes convey,\n And there begs leave that he himself may stay.\n\nSuch was Amelia at this time when she entered the room; and, having paid\nher respects to", "for me, and thought him every way worthy of its return. I did\nreturn it, and accepted him as my lover.\n\n\"He declared the greatest apprehensions of my father's suspicion, though\nI am convinced these were causeless had his designs been honourable. To\nblind these, I consented that he should carry on sham addresses to the\nwidow, who was now a constant jest between us; and he pretended from\ntime to time to acquaint me faithfully with everything that past at his\ninterviews with her; nor was this faithless woman wanting in her", "\nif I had much conversation with your husband, he would discover me. I\nwalked therefore away with this masque to the upper end of the farthest\nroom, where we sat down in a corner together. He presently discovered\nto me that he took me for you, and I soon after found out who he was;\nindeed, so far from attempting to disguise himself, he spoke in his own\nvoice and in his own person. He now began to make very violent love to\nme, but it was rather in the stile of a great man of the present age\nthan of an", ". That effect, I freely own to you, it had with me. Music,\ndancing, wine, and the most luscious conversation, in which my poor dear\nfather innocently joined, raised ideas in me of which I shall for ever\nrepent; and I wished (why should I deny it?) that it had been my wedding\ninstead of my sister's.\n\n\"The villain Hebbers danced with me that night, and he lost no\nopportunity of improving the occasion. In short, the dreadful evening\ncame. My father, though it was a", "and I have seen that very lady with him all this night.\"\n\nThis conversation past at a little distance, and out of the hearing\nof the supposed Amelia; when Booth, looking stedfastly at the lady,\ndeclared with an oath that he was positive the colonel was in the right.\nShe then beckoned to him with her fan; upon which he went directly to\nher, and she asked him to go home, which he very readily consented to.\nThe peer then walked off: the colonel went in pursuit of his wife, or of\nsome other woman;", "almost deprived me of my senses; for the villain\nHebbers came presently in and seated himself behind her.\n\n\"He had been almost a month from me, and I believed him to be at his\nquarters in Yorkshire. Guess what were my sensations when I beheld\nhim sitting by that base woman, and talking to her with the utmost\nfamiliarity. I could not long endure this sight, and having acquainted\nmy companion that I was taken suddenly ill, I forced her to go home with\nme at the end of the second act.\n\n\"After", "prospects which he entertained from\nit. This Atkinson, behind the curtain, communicated to his wife. The\nconclusion which she drew from it need scarce be hinted to the reader.\nShe made, indeed, no scruple of plainly and bluntly telling her husband\nthat the colonel had a most manifest intention to attack the chastity of\nAmelia.\n\nThis thought gave the poor serjeant great uneasiness, and, after having\nkept him long awake, tormented him in his sleep with a most horrid\ndream, in", "filled my thoughts. Innocence, it is true, possessed my heart; but it\nwas innocence unguarded, intoxicated with foolish desires, and liable\nto every temptation. During the first two hours we had many trifling\nadventures not worth remembering. At length my lord joined us, and\ncontinued with me all the evening; and we danced several dances\ntogether.\n\n\"I need not, I believe, tell you, madam, how engaging his conversation\nis. I wish I could with truth say I was not pleased with it; or,", ", stealing looks now and\nthen, and humouring his growing passion, without having command enough\nover his limbs to carry him out of the room, till decency at last forced\nhim to put an end to his preposterous visit. When the husband and\nwife were left alone together, the latter resumed the subject of her\nchildren, and gave Booth a particular narrative of all that had passed\nat his lordship's, which he, though something had certainly disconcerted\nhim, affected to receive with all the pleasure he could; and this\naffectation,", "the art or folly of it be the more conspicuous; for,\nhowever delicate and refined the art must be allowed to have been, the\nfolly, I think, must upon a fair examination appear no less astonishing:\nfor to lay all considerations of cruelty and crime out of the case, what\na foolish bargain doth the man make for himself who purchases so poor a\npleasure at so high a price!\n\n\"We had lived near three weeks with as much freedom as if we had been\nall of the same family, when, one afternoon, my lord", "but I am resolved to know it,\nnevertheless.\"\n\n\"Nay, if you say so,\" cries she, \"I am convinced you will tell me.\nPositively, dear Billy, I must and will know.\"\n\n\"Why, then, positively,\" says Booth, \"I will tell you. And I think I\nshall then shew you that, however well you may know the duty of a wife,\nI am not always able to behave like a husband. In a word then, my dear,\nthe secret is no more than this; I am unwilling you should", "an impossible attempt, which might, in\nother places, crown your sinful endeavours with success.'\n\n\"And so ends the dismal ditty.\"\n\n\"D--n me,\" cries one, \"did ever mortal hear such d--ned stuff?\"\n\n\"Upon my soul,\" said another, \"I like the last argument well enough.\nThere is some sense in that; for d--n me if I had not rather go to\nD--g--ss at any time than follow a virtuous b---- for a fortnight.\"\n\n\"Tom,\" says one of them" ], [ "any change of his fortune, nor time,\nnor age, nor sickness, nor any accident, can ever alter; but who will\nesteem, will love, and doat on him for ever.\" So saying, she flung her\nsnowy arms about his neck, and gave him a caress so tender, that it\nseemed almost to balance all the malice of his fate.\n\nAnd, indeed, the behaviour of Amelia would have made him completely\nhappy, in defiance of all adverse circumstances, had it not been for\nthose bitter ingredients which he himself had thrown", ", Amelia began gently to\nchide me for having concealed my illness from her; for, in three letters\nwhich I had writ her since the accident had happened, there was not\nthe least mention of it, or any hint given by which she could possibly\nconclude I was otherwise than in perfect health. And when I had excused\nmyself, by assigning the true reason, she cried--'O Mr. Booth! and do\nyou know so little of your Amelia as to think I could or would survive\nyou? Would it not be better for one dreadful sight to break my", "at poor Miss Emily's accident; for\nshe will still be the handsomest woman in England. This speech of mine\nwas afterwards variously repeated, by some to my honour, and by others\nrepresented in a contrary light; indeed, it was often reported to be\nmuch ruder than it was. However, it at length reached Amelia's ears.\nShe said she was very much obliged to me, since I could have so much\ncompassion for her as to be rude to a lady on her account.\n\n\"About a month after the accident, when Amelia", "came to\nmy assistance, and conveyed me to my room, where a surgeon immediately\nattended me.\n\n\"The injury I had now received was much more dangerous in my surgeon's\nopinion than the former; it caused me to spit blood, and was attended\nwith a fever, and other bad symptoms; so that very fatal consequences\nwere apprehended.\n\n\"In this situation, the image of my Amelia haunted me day and night; and\nthe apprehensions of never seeing her more were so intolerable, that I\nhad thoughts of", "you think, Miss Matthews, that the misfortune of my Amelia was\ncapable of any aggravation? I assure you, she hath often told me it\nwas aggravated with a circumstance which outweighed all the other\ningredients. This was the cruel insults she received from some of her\nmost intimate acquaintance, several of whom, after many distortions and\ngrimaces, have turned their heads aside, unable to support their secret\ntriumph, and burst into a loud laugh in her hearing.\"\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried Miss Matt", "the prayer of, my dearest love, Your ever\nfond, affectionate, and hereafter, faithful husband,\n W. BOOTH.\"\n\nAmelia pretty well guessed the obscure meaning of this letter, which,\nthough at another time it might have given her unspeakable torment,\nwas at present rather of the medicinal kind, and served to allay\nher anguish. Her anger to Booth too began a little to abate, and was\nsoftened by her concern for his misfortune. Upon the whole, however,\nshe", ", Joe?\" said Amelia. \"I am sure you\nnever did anything willingly to offend me.\"\n\n\"No, madam,\" answered he, \"I would die a thousand times before I would\nhave ventured it in the smallest matter. But--I cannot speak--and yet I\nmust. You cannot pardon me, and yet, perhaps, as I am a dying man, and\nnever shall see you more--indeed, if I was to live after this discovery,\nI should never dare to look you in the face again; and yet, madam, to\nthink I shall", "which they were\nthen engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now\ndeclared she remembered his voice and features perfectly well, and was\nthoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his\nnot having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her\ndeclared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth\ninto some very satirical invectives against that lady, and declared she\nhad the art, as well as the wickedness, of the devil himself.\n\nMany", "cries Amelia, \"you chill my blood with horror! the idea\nfreezes me to death; I cannot, must not, will not think it. Nothing but\nconviction! Heaven forbid I should ever have more conviction! And did he\nabuse my husband? what? did he abuse a poor, unhappy, distrest creature,\nopprest, ruined, torn from his children, torn away from his wretched\nwife; the honestest, worthiest, noblest, tenderest, fondest, best--\"\nHere she burst into an agony of grief, which exceed", "woman.\" \"I am mistaken,\" replied she, \"if she be\nnot a very good creature. I don't know I ever took such a liking to any\none on so short an acquaintance. I fancy she hath been a very spritely\nwoman; for, if you observe, she discovers by starts a great vivacity in\nher countenance.\" \"I made the same observation,\" cries Booth: \"sure some\nstrange misfortune hath befallen her.\" \"A misfortune, indeed!\" answered\nAmelia; \"sure, child, you", "Amelia will never do\nanything to forfeit your good opinion. Consider but the cruel hardship\nof what she is to undergo, and you will make allowances for the\ndifficulty she makes in complying. To say the truth, when I examine my\nown heart, I have more obligations to her than appear at first sight;\nfor, by obliging me to find arguments to persuade her, she hath assisted\nme in conquering myself. Indeed, if she had shewn more resolution, I\nshould have shewn less.\"\n\n\"So you think it necessary,", "Amelia, \"could occasion all that gravity from the\nmoment the masquerade was mentioned?\"\n\n\"As to that,\" answered the other, \"there is no guessing. You have seen\nher altogether as grave before now. She hath had these fits of gravity\nat times ever since the death of her husband.\"\n\n\"Poor creature!\" cries Amelia; \"I heartily pity her, for she must\ncertainly suffer a great deal on these occasions. I declare I have taken\na strange fancy to her.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you would not like her so well if you", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "should most certainly have either perished miserably, or must have\nowed my preservation to some of the enemy, had not my faithful servant\ncarried me off on his shoulders, and afterwards, with the assistance of\none of his comrades, brought me back into the garrison.\n\n\"The agony of my wound was so great, that it threw me into a fever, from\nwhence my surgeon apprehended much danger. I now began again to feel for\nmy Amelia, and for myself on her account; and the disorder of my mind,\noccasioned by", "and I beg the favour of seeing you as soon as possible\nto advise with you upon it. I am\n\n\"Your most obliged and dutiful daughter,\n\n\"AMELIA BOOTH.\"\n\nThe doctor's answer was, that he would wait on the lady directly; and\nthen, turning to his friend, he asked him if he would not take a walk in\nthe Park before dinner. \"I must go,\" says he, \"to the lady who was with\nus last night; for I am afraid, by her letter, some bad accident hath\nhappened to her", "Mrs. Ellison, being altogether as\nremarkably grave as the other was gay. This gravity was not, however,\nattended with any sourness of temper; on the contrary, she had much\nsweetness in her countenance, and was perfectly well bred. In short,\nAmelia imputed her grave deportment to her ill health, and began to\nentertain a compassion for her, which in good minds, that is to say, in\nminds capable of compassion, is certain to introduce some little degree\nof love or friendship.\n\nAmelia was in short so pleased", "to the deceit, and acknowledged\nthe truth of what he had mentioned; but said that the pleasure she\nshould have in complying with his desires would highly recompense any\ndissatisfaction which might arise on any other account; and shortly\nafter ended the conversation on this subject with her chearfully\npromising to fulfil his promise.\n\nIn reality, poor Amelia had now a most unpleasant task to undertake;\nfor she thought it absolutely necessary to conceal from her husband\nthe opinion she had conceived of the colonel. For, as she knew the\ncharacters," ], [ "\nstill persisted in her refusal; and the mistress of the house, who knew\nhow far good breeding allows persons to be pressing on these occasions,\ntook her leave.\n\nShe was no sooner departed than Amelia, looking tenderly on her husband,\nsaid, \"How can you, my dear creature, think that music hath any charms\nfor me at this time? or, indeed, do you believe that I am capable of any\nsensation worthy the name of pleasure when neither you nor my children\nare present or bear any part of it?\"\n\n", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", "Booth and his wife, the moment their companion was gone, sat down to\nsupper on a piece of cold meat, the remains of their dinner. After\nwhich, over a pint of wine, they entertained themselves for a while with\nthe ridiculous behaviour of their visitant. But Amelia, declaring she\nrather saw her as the object of pity than anger, turned the discourse\nto pleasanter topics. The little actions of their children, the former\nscenes and future prospects of their life, furnished them with many\npleasant ideas; and the contemplation of Amelia's", "made her frequent visits during the confinement of her\nhusband, and consequently her own.\n\nNothing, as I remember, happened in this interval of time, more worthy\nnotice than the following card which Amelia received from her old\nacquaintance Mrs. James:--\"Mrs. James sends her compliments to Mrs.\nBooth, and desires to know how she does; for, as she hath not had the\nfavour of seeing her at her own house, or of meeting her in any public\nplace, in so long time, fears it may be owing to ill", ", though she is ashamed to ask.\" The doctor, overhearing\nthe child, proposed that they should all retire to some place where\nthey might sit down and refresh themselves; which they accordingly did.\nAmelia now missed her husband; but, as she had three men in her company,\nand one of them was the doctor, she concluded herself and her children\nto be safe, and doubted not but that Booth would soon find her out.\n\nThey now sat down, and the doctor very gallantly desired Amelia to call\nfor what she liked. Upon which the children were supplied with c", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell", "elia, whose innocence gave her no suspicion of the true cause of this\ngood woman's sullenness, was frightened, and began to fear she knew\nnot what. At last she made a shift to totter into the kitchen, when\nthe mistress of the house asked her, \"Well, madam, who shall I tell the\ncaptain wants to speak with him?\"\n\n\"I ask your pardon, madam,\" cries Amelia; \"in my confusion I really\nforgot you did not know me--tell him, if you please, that I am his\nw", "frightened by the former; and she soon after took\nleave of her husband to go in quest of the doctor, who, as Amelia\nhad heard that morning, was expected in town that very day, which was\nsomewhat sooner than he had intended at his departure.\n\nBefore she went, however, she left a strict charge with the bailiff,\nwho ushered her very civilly downstairs, that if one Colonel James came\nthere to enquire for her husband he should deny that he was there.\n\nShe then departed; and the bailiff immediately gave a very strict charge\nto his wife", "her children, with whose company she was forced to console herself for\nthe absence of her husband.\n\n\n\n\nChapter ix.\n\n_A very tragic scene._\n\n\nThe clock had struck eleven, and Amelia was just proceeding to put her\nchildren to bed, when she heard a knock at the street-door; upon which\nthe boy cried out, \"There's papa, mamma; pray let me stay and see him\nbefore I go to bed.\" This was a favour very easily obtained; for Amelia\ninstantly ran down-stairs, exulting in", "stone walls and a sea will prevent thee from running away.'\n\n\"When I had left the doctor I repaired to my Amelia, whom I found in her\nchamber, employed in a very different manner from what she had been the\npreceding night; she was busy in packing up some trinkets in a casket,\nwhich she desired me to carry with me. This casket was her own work, and\nshe had just fastened it as I came to her.\n\n\"Her eyes very plainly discovered what had passed while she was engaged\nin her work: however, her", "returned in about a twelve-month\nto town, as well, I think, as she is at present.\"\n\n\"I am almost afraid to ask,\" cries Amelia, \"and yet I long methinks to\nknow what is become of the poor little boy.\"\n\n\"He hath been dead,\" said Mrs. Ellison, \"a little more than half a\nyear; and the mother lamented him at first almost as much as she did her\nhusband, but I found it indeed rather an easier matter to comfort her,\nthough I sat up with her near a fortnight upon the", "a dependence on that ticket\nwhich he had so dearly purchased of one who pretended to manage the\nwheels in the great state lottery of preferment. A lottery, indeed,\nwhich hath this to recommend it--that many poor wretches feed their\nimaginations with the prospect of a prize during their whole lives, and\nnever discover they have drawn a blank.\n\nAmelia, who was of a pretty sanguine temper, and was entirely ignorant\nof these matters, was full as easy to be deceived into hopes as her\nhusband; but in reality at present she turned", ", and began to prescribe comfort and patience to him;\nsaying, he must rest satisfied with his confinement that night; and the\nnext morning he promised to visit him again.\n\nBooth answered, that as for himself, the lying one night in any place\nwas very little worth his regard. \"You and I, my dear friend, have both\nspent our evening in a worse situation than I shall in this house. All\nmy concern is for my poor Amelia, whose sufferings on account of my\nabsence I know, and I feel with unspeakable tenderness. Could", "but he found no supply of spirits to carry\non this deceit, and would have probably sunk under his attempt, had not\npoor Amelia's simplicity helped him to another fallacy, in which he had\nmuch better success.\n\nThis worthy woman very plainly perceived the disorder in her husband's\nmind; and, having no doubt of the cause of it, especially when she saw\nthe tears stand in his eyes at the sight of his children, threw her arms\nround his neck, and, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out,\n\"My dear", "blaming him. I\nmention this only as an instance of his affection towards me; for I\nnever could account for those tears any otherwise than by placing them\nto the account of that distress in which he left me at that time. We\ntravelled full forty miles that day without baiting, when, arriving at\nthe inn where I intended to rest that night, I retired immediately to\nmy chamber, with my dear Amelia's casket, the opening of which was the\nnicest repast, and to which every other hunger gave way.\n\n\"It is impossible to mention to", ", such a regard for my wife, out of gratitude for\nthe favours she hath done his mother, that I make no doubt he was highly\nrejoiced at her absence from my melancholy scene. Well, whoever writ it\nis a matter very immaterial; yet, as it seemed so odd and unaccountable\nan incident, I could not help mentioning it.\n\n\"From the time of Amelia's arrival nothing remarkable happened till my\nperfect recovery, unless I should observe her remarkable behaviour, so\nfull of care and tenderness, that it was perhaps without a parallel.\"", "which she\ndeclared to be entirely beyond her comprehension; and soon after, Mrs.\nEllison, finding all her efforts to prevail on Amelia were ineffectual,\ntook her leave, giving Mr. Booth two or three sarcastical words, and a\nmuch more sarcastical look, at her departure.\n\n\n\n\nChapter vi.\n\n_A scene in which some ladies will possibly think Amelia's conduct\nexceptionable._\n\n\nBooth and his wife being left alone, a solemn silence prevailed during\na few minutes.", "who had been on his legs almost the whole day, now\nreturned, and brought Amelia a short letter from her husband, in which\nhe gave her the most solemn assurances of his health and spirits, and\nbegged her with great earnestness to take care to preserve her own,\nwhich if she did, he said, he had no doubt but that they should shortly\nbe happy. He added something of hopes from my lord, with which Mrs.\nEllison had amused him, and which served only to destroy the comfort\nthat Amelia received from the rest of his", "for my\nanxious thoughts suggested no less to me than that Amelia had made her\npeace with her mother at the price of abandoning me forever, and of\ngiving her ear to some other lover. All my prudence now vanished at\nonce; and I would that instant have gladly run away with Amelia, and\nhave married her without the least consideration of any consequences.\n\n\"With such thoughts I had tormented myself for near two hours, till most\nof the company had taken their leave. This I was myself incapable of\ndoing, nor do I know when" ], [ "to the deceit, and acknowledged\nthe truth of what he had mentioned; but said that the pleasure she\nshould have in complying with his desires would highly recompense any\ndissatisfaction which might arise on any other account; and shortly\nafter ended the conversation on this subject with her chearfully\npromising to fulfil his promise.\n\nIn reality, poor Amelia had now a most unpleasant task to undertake;\nfor she thought it absolutely necessary to conceal from her husband\nthe opinion she had conceived of the colonel. For, as she knew the\ncharacters,", "infidelity of her\nhusband, and had besides very greatly abused him; taxing him with many\nfalsehoods, and, among the rest, with having spoken very slightingly and\ndisrespectfully of his wife.\n\nAmelia never shined forth to Booth in so amiable and great a light; nor\ndid his own unworthiness ever appear to him so mean and contemptible as\nat this instant. However, when he had read the letter, he uttered many\nviolent protestations to her, that all which related to herself was\nabsolutely false.\n\n", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", "in the world for which he was liable to be\nsued.\"\n\n\"I know not what to say,\" cries Amelia. \"Indeed, I am afraid to tell you\nthe truth.\"\n\n\"How, child?\" said the doctor--\"I hope you will never disguise it to any\none, especially to me. Any prevarication, I promise you, will forfeit my\nfriendship for ever.\"\n\n\"I will tell you the whole,\" cries Amelia, \"and rely entirely on your\ngoodness.\" She then related the gaming story, not forgetting", "but he found no supply of spirits to carry\non this deceit, and would have probably sunk under his attempt, had not\npoor Amelia's simplicity helped him to another fallacy, in which he had\nmuch better success.\n\nThis worthy woman very plainly perceived the disorder in her husband's\nmind; and, having no doubt of the cause of it, especially when she saw\nthe tears stand in his eyes at the sight of his children, threw her arms\nround his neck, and, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out,\n\"My dear", "any change of his fortune, nor time,\nnor age, nor sickness, nor any accident, can ever alter; but who will\nesteem, will love, and doat on him for ever.\" So saying, she flung her\nsnowy arms about his neck, and gave him a caress so tender, that it\nseemed almost to balance all the malice of his fate.\n\nAnd, indeed, the behaviour of Amelia would have made him completely\nhappy, in defiance of all adverse circumstances, had it not been for\nthose bitter ingredients which he himself had thrown", "the girl for calling him,\nsaying \"If you can read, child, you must see it was directed to your\nmistress.\" To this the girl answered, pertly enough, \"I am sure, sir,\nyou ordered me to bring every letter first to you.\" This hint, with many\nwomen, would have been sufficient to have blown up the whole affair;\nbut Amelia, who heard what the girl said, through the medium of love and\nconfidence, saw the matter in a much better light than it deserved, and,\nlooking tenderly on her husband, said, \"Ind", ", Joe?\" said Amelia. \"I am sure you\nnever did anything willingly to offend me.\"\n\n\"No, madam,\" answered he, \"I would die a thousand times before I would\nhave ventured it in the smallest matter. But--I cannot speak--and yet I\nmust. You cannot pardon me, and yet, perhaps, as I am a dying man, and\nnever shall see you more--indeed, if I was to live after this discovery,\nI should never dare to look you in the face again; and yet, madam, to\nthink I shall", "Mrs. James; and\nI must confess she hath not behaved to you lately as you might have\nexpected; but you ought to pass all that by for the sake of her\nhusband, to whom we have both so many obligations, who is the worthiest,\nhonestest, and most generous fellow in the universe, and the best friend\nto me that ever man had.\"\n\nAmelia, who had far other suspicions, and began to fear that her husband\nhad discovered them, was highly pleased when she saw him taking a wrong\nscent. She gave, therefore, a little in", "\n\"Have you dealt fairly with me, Amelia?\" said he.\n\n\"Yes, surely,\" said she; \"Heaven is my witness how fairly.\"\n\n\"Nay, do not call Heaven,\" cried he, \"to witness a falsehood. You have\nnot dealt openly with me, Amelia. You have concealed secrets from me;\nsecrets which I ought to have known, and which, if I had known, it had\nbeen better for us both.\"\n\n\"You astonish me as much as you shock me,\" cried she. \"What falsehood,\nwhat", "how inexcusable this behaviour is in you, who\nare possessed in your own wife of the most inestimable jewel.\n\n\"Yours, &c.\n\n\"T. JAMES.\n\n\"I shall bring pistols with me.\"\n\n\nIt is not easy to describe the agitation of Amelia's mind when she read\nthis letter. She threw herself into her chair, turned as pale as death,\nbegan to tremble all over, and had just power enough left to tap the\nbottle of wine, which she had hitherto preserved", "\ndear, I have discovered the cause of that resentment to the colonel\nwhich you could not hide from me. I love you, I adore you for it;\nindeed, I could not forgive a slighting word on you. But, why do I\ncompare things so unlike?--what the colonel said of me was just and\ntrue; every reflexion on my Amelia must be false and villanous.\"\n\nThe discernment of Amelia was extremely quick, and she now perceived\nwhat had happened, and how much her husband knew of the truth. She\nresolved", "have been betrayed as you\ntell me; you could not be guilty of such baseness, such cruelty, such\ningratitude.' He then--O! it is impossible to describe his behaviour--he\nexprest such kindness, such tenderness, such concern for the manner in\nwhich he had used me--I cannot dwell on this scene--I shall relapse--you\nmust excuse me.\"\n\nAmelia begged her to omit anything which so affected her; and she\nproceeded thus: \"My husband, who was more convinced than I was of Mrs.\nEll", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", "which they were\nthen engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now\ndeclared she remembered his voice and features perfectly well, and was\nthoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his\nnot having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her\ndeclared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth\ninto some very satirical invectives against that lady, and declared she\nhad the art, as well as the wickedness, of the devil himself.\n\nMany", "\"Damnation! this is too much to bear.\"\n\nAmelia was thrown into the utmost consternation by this behaviour; and,\nwith great terror in her countenance, cried out, \"Good Heavens! my dear\nlove, what is the reason of this agony?\"\n\n\"Ask me no questions,\" cried he, \"unless you would drive me to madness.\"\n\n\"My Billy! my love!\" said she, \"what can be the meaning of this?--I beg\nyou will deal openly with me, and tell me all your griefs.\"\n", "flying again into her arms, \"thou art my dearest woman, my\nbest, my beloved wife!\"\n\nAmelia, having returned all his caresses with equal kindness, told him\nshe had near eleven guineas in her purse, and asked how much she should\nfetch him. \"I would not advise you, Billy, to carry too much in your\npocket, for fear it should be a temptation to you to return to gaming,\nin order to retrieve your past losses. Let me beg you, on all accounts,\nnever to think more, if possible, on the tr", "wife to give him a little box, of\nwhich he always kept the key himself, and afterwards begged her to leave\nthe room for a few minutes; at which neither she nor Amelia expressed\nany dissatisfaction.\n\nWhen he was alone with Amelia, he spoke as follows: \"This, madam, is\nthe last time my eyes will ever behold what--do pardon me, madam, I\nwill never offend you more.\" Here he sunk down in his bed, and the tears\ngushed from his eyes.\n\n\"Why should you fear to offend me", "her likewise all\nthat he had done and suffered to conceal his transgression from her\nknowledge. This he assured her was the business of his visit last night,\nthe consequence of which was, he declared in the most solemn manner, no\nother than an absolute quarrel with Miss Matthews, of whom he had taken\na final leave.\n\nWhen he had ended his narration, Amelia, after a short silence,\nanswered, \"Indeed, I firmly believe every word you have said, but I\ncannot now forgive you the fault you have confessed;", "Amelia no sooner saw her husband's distress than she instantly forbore\nwhatever might seem likely to aggravate it, and applied herself, with\nall her power, to comfort him. \"If you will give me leave to offer my\nadvice, my dearest soul,\" said she, \"I think all might yet be remedied.\nI think you know me too well to suspect that the desire of diversion\nshould induce me to mention what I am now going to propose; and in that\nconfidence I will ask you to let me accept my lord's and Mrs. Ell" ], [ "of employing it some way or other, to procure some small\nsubsistence for ourselves and our family. As for your dependence on the\ncolonel's friendship, it is all vain, I am afraid, and fallacious. Nor\ndo I see any hopes you have from any other quarter, of providing for\nyourself again in the army. And though the sum which is now in our power\nis very small, yet we may possibly contrive with it to put ourselves\ninto some mean way of livelihood. I have a heart, my Billy, which is\ncapable of undergoing anything for", "out of the hearing of my cries or the knowledge of\nmy pains? if I die, will you not have escaped the horrors of a parting\nten thousand times more dreadful than this? Go, go, my Billy; the very\ncircumstance which made me most dread your departure hath perfectly\nreconciled me to it. I perceive clearly now that I was only wishing to\nsupport my own weakness with your strength, and to relieve my own pains\nat the price of yours. Believe me, my love, I am ashamed of myself.'--I\nc", "\"what will--what can\nbecome of these poor little wretches? why have I produced these little\ncreatures only to give them a share of poverty and misery?\" At which\nwords she embraced them eagerly in her arms, and bedewed them both with\nher tears.\n\nThe children's eyes soon overflowed as fast as their mother's, though\nneither of them knew the cause of her affliction. The little boy, who\nwas the elder and much the sharper of the two, imputed the agonies\nof his mother to her illness", "Billy, let nothing make you uneasy. Heaven will, I doubt not,\nprovide for us and these poor babes. Great fortunes are not necessary to\nhappiness. For my own part, I can level my mind with any state; and for\nthose poor little things, whatever condition of life we breed them to,\nthat will be sufficient to maintain them in. How many thousands abound\nin affluence whose fortunes are much lower than ours! for it is not\nfrom nature, but from education and habit, that our wants are chiefly\nderived. Make yourself easy,", "and I\nam convinced he gives away four of it. Indeed, he is one of the best\neconomists in the world: but yet I am positive he never was at any time\npossessed of five hundred pound, since he hath been a man. Consider,\ndear Emily, the late obligations we have to this gentleman; it would\nbe unreasonable to expect more, at least at present; my half-pay is\nmortgaged for a year to come. How then shall we live?\"\n\n\"By our labour,\" answered she; \"I am able to labour, and I am", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", "yourself, I hope you will pardon\nmy writing to you at this season; though I do not know that you can\nrelieve my distresses, or, if you can, have I any pretence to expect\nthat you should. My poor dear, O Heavens--my---lies dead in the house;\nand, after I had procured sufficient to bury him, a set of ruffians have\nentered my house, seized all I have, have seized his dear, dear corpse,\nand threaten to deny it burial. For Heaven's sake, send me,", "Then Heaven have mercy upon us all!\" cries Amelia, \"for we have no\nother friend on earth: my husband is undone, and these poor little\nwretches must be starved.\"\n\nThe doctor cast his eyes on the children, and then cried, \"I hope not\nso. I told you I must distress my circumstances, and I will distress\nthem this once on your account, and on the account of these poor little\nbabes. But things must not go on any longer in this way. You must take\nan heroic resolution. I will hire a coach for you", "concerns my\nlittle babe in the country) which doth not relate to the badness of our\ncircumstances? and those, I thank Heaven, we have now a fair prospect\nof retrieving. Besides, dear Billy, though my understanding be much\ninferior to yours, I have sometimes had the happiness of luckily hitting\non some argument which hath afforded you comfort. This, you know, my\ndear, was the case with regard to Colonel James, whom I persuaded you to\nthink you had mistaken, and you see the event proved me in the right.\"\nSo", ", what is the matter with poor papa, what\nmakes him look so as if he was going to cry? he is not half so merry as\nhe used to be in the country.\" Amelia answered, \"Oh! my dear, your papa\nis only a little thoughtful, he will be merry again soon.\"--Then looking\nfondly on her children, she burst into an agony of tears, and cried,\n\"Oh Heavens; what have these poor little infants done? why will the\nbarbarous world endeavour to starve them, by dep", "to be paid one time or other. To say the truth, it is a little hard\nthe government doth not pay those pensions better; for my sister's hath\nbeen due almost these two years; that is my way of thinking.\"\n\nBooth answered he was ashamed to refuse him such a sum; but, \"Upon my\nsoul,\" said he, \"I have not a single halfpenny in my pocket; for I am\nin a worse condition, if possible, than yourself; for I have lost all\nmy money, and, what is worse, I owe Mr", "do this was still a question. It was not sure, at least he\nfeared it was not, that Amelia herself would readily consent to this;\nand so far from persuading her to such a measure, he could not bear even\nto propose it. At length his determination was to acquaint his wife with\nthe whole affair, and to ask her consent, by way of asking her advice;\nfor he was well assured she could find no other means of extricating him\nout of his dilemma. This he accordingly did, representing the affair as\nbad as he could; though, indeed, it", "Mrs. Atkinson's acquaintance offered to lend me thirty-five pounds\nupon them when you was in your last distress. But why are you computing\ntheir value now?\"\n\n\"I was only considering,\" answered he, \"how much we could raise in any\ncase of exigency.\"\n\n\"I have computed it myself,\" said she; \"and I believe all we have in\nthe world, besides our bare necessary apparel, would produce about sixty\npounds: and suppose, my dear,\" said she, \"while we have that little sum,\nwe should think", "with him. After which they sat\ndown with their little children to a scrag of mutton and broth, with the\nhighest satisfaction, and very heartily drank his lordship's health in a\npot of porter.\n\nIn the afternoon this happy couple, if the reader will allow me to call\npoor people happy, drank tea with Mrs. Ellison, where his lordship's\npraises, being again repeated by both the husband and wife, were very\nloudly echoed by Mrs. Ellison. While they were here, the young lady whom\nwe", ", and had given him very\ngreat uneasiness; but to answer this demand in any other manner than by\npaying the money was absolutely what he could not bear. Again, to pay\nthis money, he very plainly saw there was but one way, and this was, by\nstripping his wife, not only of every farthing, but almost of every rag\nshe had in the world; a thought so dreadful that it chilled his very\nsoul with horror: and yet pride, at last, seemed to represent this as\nthe lesser evil of the two.\n\nBut how to", ", Booth recollected the omission he\nhad been guilty of the night before. He wrote a short note therefore to\nhis wife, acquainting her that he should not come home to supper; but\ncomforted her with a faithful promise that he would on no account engage\nhimself in gaming.\n\nThe first bottle passed in ordinary conversation; but, when they had\ntapped the second, Booth, on some hints which Trent gave him, very\nfairly laid open to him his whole circumstances, and declared he almost\ndespaired of mending them. \"My", ", not soon: a week\nis an age;--but yet the happy day may come. It shall, it must, it will!\nYes, Billy, we shall meet never to part again, even in this world, I\nhope.' Pardon my weakness, Miss Matthews, but upon my soul I cannot help\nit,\" cried he, wiping his eyes. \"Well, I wonder at your patience, and I\nwill try it no longer. Amelia, tired out with so long a struggle\nbetween variety of passions, and having not closed her eyes during three\nsuccessive nights,", "; but her behaviour began now to be changed. She soon took an\nopportunity of giving me to understand that her fortune was insufficient\nto keep me; and, as I could not live on the interest of my own, it was\nhigh time for me to consider about going into the world. She added, that\nher brother having mentioned my setting up in some business in his will\nwas very foolish; that I had been bred to nothing; and, besides, that\nthe sum was too trifling to set me up in any way of reputation; she\ndesired me therefore to think of immediately", ", because he was wounded,\" cries\nthe bailiff. \"I thought it was charity to take care of him; and,\nbesides, why should one make more noise about the matter than is\nnecessary?\" \"And Doctor Harrison with him?\" said Murphy. \"Yes, he is,\"\nsaid the bailiff; \"he desired to speak with the doctor very much,\nand they have been praying together almost this hour.\" \"All is up and\nundone!\" cries Murphy. \"Let me come by, I have thought of something\nwhich I must do immediately.\"\n\nNow, as by", "Amelia! they cut my very heart-strings when\nyou spoke then; for I had then lost this little all. Indeed, I assure\nyou, I have not played since, nor ever will more.\"\n\n\"Keep that resolution,\" said she, \"my dear, and I hope we shall yet\nrecover the past.\"--At which words, casting her eyes on the children,\nthe tears burst from her eyes, and she cried--\"Heaven will, I hope,\nprovide for us.\"\n\nA pathetic scene now ensued between the husband and wife, which would\nnot, perhaps" ], [ ", and entered the room with an air of\ngaiety rather misbecoming the occasion. When she had seated herself in\na chair she told Amelia that the captain was very well and in good\nspirits, and that he earnestly desired her to keep up hers. \"Come,\nmadam,\" said she, \"don't be disconsolate; I hope we shall soon be able\nto get him out of his troubles. The debts, indeed, amount to more than I\nexpected; however, ways may be found to redeem him. He must own himself\nguilty of some rash", "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "see you have almost cried your eyes out already. And yet you may\ndo the business by a much pleasanter way than by crying and bawling.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, madam?\" cries Amelia.--\"For my part, I cannot guess\nyour meaning.\"\n\n\"Before I tell you then, madam,\" answered Mrs. Ellison, \"I must inform\nyou, if you do not already know it, that the captain is charged with\nactions to the amount of near five hundred pounds. I am sure I would\nwillingly be his bail; but I know my", "but he found no supply of spirits to carry\non this deceit, and would have probably sunk under his attempt, had not\npoor Amelia's simplicity helped him to another fallacy, in which he had\nmuch better success.\n\nThis worthy woman very plainly perceived the disorder in her husband's\nmind; and, having no doubt of the cause of it, especially when she saw\nthe tears stand in his eyes at the sight of his children, threw her arms\nround his neck, and, embracing him with rapturous fondness, cried out,\n\"My dear", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", "Then Heaven have mercy upon us all!\" cries Amelia, \"for we have no\nother friend on earth: my husband is undone, and these poor little\nwretches must be starved.\"\n\nThe doctor cast his eyes on the children, and then cried, \"I hope not\nso. I told you I must distress my circumstances, and I will distress\nthem this once on your account, and on the account of these poor little\nbabes. But things must not go on any longer in this way. You must take\nan heroic resolution. I will hire a coach for you", "? O my dear Amelia!\nhe hath removed the whole gloom at once, hath driven all despair out\nof my mind, and hath filled it with the most sanguine, and, at the same\ntime, the most reasonable hopes of making a comfortable provision for\nyourself and my dear children. In the first place, then, he will advance\nme a sum of money to pay off all my debts; and this on a bond to be\nrepaid only when I shall become colonel of a regiment, and not before.\nIn the next place, he is gone this", "do this was still a question. It was not sure, at least he\nfeared it was not, that Amelia herself would readily consent to this;\nand so far from persuading her to such a measure, he could not bear even\nto propose it. At length his determination was to acquaint his wife with\nthe whole affair, and to ask her consent, by way of asking her advice;\nfor he was well assured she could find no other means of extricating him\nout of his dilemma. This he accordingly did, representing the affair as\nbad as he could; though, indeed, it", "affair, are in the hands of an\nold Parson called Doctor Harrison.'\"\n\n\"And is this really true?\" cries Amelia.\n\n\"Yes, really and sincerely,\" cries the doctor. \"The whole estate;\nfor your mother left it you all, and is as surely yours as if you was\nalready in possession.\"\n\n\"Gracious Heaven!\" cries she, falling on her knees, \"I thank you!\" And\nthen starting up, she ran to her husband, and, embracing him, cried, \"My\ndear love, I wish you joy;", "Amelia! they cut my very heart-strings when\nyou spoke then; for I had then lost this little all. Indeed, I assure\nyou, I have not played since, nor ever will more.\"\n\n\"Keep that resolution,\" said she, \"my dear, and I hope we shall yet\nrecover the past.\"--At which words, casting her eyes on the children,\nthe tears burst from her eyes, and she cried--\"Heaven will, I hope,\nprovide for us.\"\n\nA pathetic scene now ensued between the husband and wife, which would\nnot, perhaps", "end of four\nyears I became involved in debt near three hundred pounds more than the\nvalue of all my effects. My landlord seized my stock for rent, and, to\navoid immediate confinement in prison, I was forced to leave the country\nwith all that I hold dear in the world, my wife and my poor little\nfamily.\n\n\"In this condition I arrived in town five or six days ago. I had just\ntaken a lodging in the verge of the court, and had writ my dear Amelia\nword where she might find me, when she had settled her affairs in", "where Amelia was, while\nBooth was to be engaged at play in another.\n\nAnd now after much debate, and after Trent had acquainted my lord with\nthe wretched situation of Booth's circumstances, it was resolved that\nTrent should immediately demand his money of Booth, and upon his not\npaying it, for they both concluded it impossible he should pay it, to\nput the note which Trent had for the money in suit against him by the\ngenteel means of paying it away to a nominal third person; and this\nthey both conceived must end", "\npay it them again.\"\n\n\"When, my dear?\" said Amelia. \"Do, my dear Will, consider our wretched\ncircumstances. I beg you let us go into the country immediately, and\nlive upon bread and water till Fortune pleases to smile upon us.\"\n\n\"I am convinced that day is not far off,\" said Booth. \"However, give me\nleave to send an answer to Mrs. Atkinson, that we shall be glad of her\ncompany immediately to breakfast.\"\n\n\"You know I never contradict you,\" said she, \"but I", "eldest of\nthose girls, whose name is Amelia, is his favourite; she is the picture\nof her mother, and it is thought the doctor hath distinguished her in\nhis will, for he hath declared that he will leave his whole fortune,\nexcept some few charities, among Amelia's children.\n\nAs to Booth and Amelia, Fortune seems to have made them large amends\nfor the tricks she played them in their youth. They have, ever since the\nabove period of this history, enjoyed an uninterrupted course of health\nand happiness. In about", "flying again into her arms, \"thou art my dearest woman, my\nbest, my beloved wife!\"\n\nAmelia, having returned all his caresses with equal kindness, told him\nshe had near eleven guineas in her purse, and asked how much she should\nfetch him. \"I would not advise you, Billy, to carry too much in your\npocket, for fear it should be a temptation to you to return to gaming,\nin order to retrieve your past losses. Let me beg you, on all accounts,\nnever to think more, if possible, on the tr", "your sake; and I hope my hands are as\nable to work as those which have been more inured to it. But think, my\ndear, think what must be our wretched condition, when the very little we\nnow have is all mouldered away, as it will soon be in this town.\"\n\nWhen poor Booth heard this, and reflected that the time which Amelia\nforesaw was already arrived (for that he had already lost every farthing\nthey were worth), it touched him to the quick; he turned pale, gnashed\nhis teeth, and cried out,", "for of mine. I then\nprofessed the greatest friendship to that lady (in which I am convinced\nyou will think me serious), and assured him he would give me one of the\nhighest pleasures in letting me be the instrument of doing her such a\nservice. He promised me in a moment to do what you see, madam, he hath\nsince done. And to you I shall always think myself indebted for it.\"\n\n\"I know not how you are indebted to me,\" cries Amelia. \"Indeed, I am\nvery glad of any good fortune that", "was impossible for him to aggravate\nthe real truth.\n\nAmelia heard him patiently, without once interrupting him. When he had\nfinished, she remained silent some time: indeed, the shock she received\nfrom this story almost deprived her of the power of speaking. At last\nshe answered, \"Well, my dear, you ask my advice; I certainly can give\nyou no other than that the money must be paid.\"\n\n\"But how must it be paid?\" cries he. \"O, heavens! thou sweetest\ncreature! what, not once upbraid me", "a dependence on that ticket\nwhich he had so dearly purchased of one who pretended to manage the\nwheels in the great state lottery of preferment. A lottery, indeed,\nwhich hath this to recommend it--that many poor wretches feed their\nimaginations with the prospect of a prize during their whole lives, and\nnever discover they have drawn a blank.\n\nAmelia, who was of a pretty sanguine temper, and was entirely ignorant\nof these matters, was full as easy to be deceived into hopes as her\nhusband; but in reality at present she turned" ], [ "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "Booth immediately ran up-stairs to his Amelia; between\nwhom I shall not attempt to describe the meeting. Nothing certainly was\never more tender or more joyful. This, however, I will observe, that a\nvery few of these exquisite moments, of which the best minds only are\ncapable, do in reality over-balance the longest enjoyments which can\never fall to the lot of the worst.\n\nWhilst Booth and his wife were feasting their souls with the most\ndelicious mutual endearments, the doctor was fallen to play with the two\nlittle children", ", though she is ashamed to ask.\" The doctor, overhearing\nthe child, proposed that they should all retire to some place where\nthey might sit down and refresh themselves; which they accordingly did.\nAmelia now missed her husband; but, as she had three men in her company,\nand one of them was the doctor, she concluded herself and her children\nto be safe, and doubted not but that Booth would soon find her out.\n\nThey now sat down, and the doctor very gallantly desired Amelia to call\nfor what she liked. Upon which the children were supplied with c", "much\nrapture, that the bailiff's wife, who was an eyewitness of this violent\nfondness, began to suspect whether Amelia had really told her truth.\nHowever, she had some little awe of the captain; and for fear of being\nin the wrong did not interfere, but shut the door and turned the key.\n\nWhen Booth found himself alone with his wife, and had vented the first\nviolence of his rapture in kisses and embraces, he looked tenderly at\nher and cried, \"Is it possible, Amelia, is", ". The two victors and Trent went off in their\nchairs to their several houses near Grosvenor-square, and poor Booth, in\na melancholy mood, walked home to his lodgings. He was, indeed, in such\na fit of despair, that it more than once came into his head to put an\nend to his miserable being.\n\nBut before we introduce him to Amelia we must do her the justice to\nrelate the manner in which she spent this unhappy evening. It was about\nseven when Booth left her to walk in the park; from this", "with\nextraordinary good humour, and opened his heart and cellars, I will not\ndetermine; but he gave them so hearty a welcome, and they were all so\npleased with each other, that Amelia, for that one night, trusted the\ncare of her children to the woman where they lodged, nor did the company\nrise from table till the clock struck eleven.\n\nThey then separated. Amelia and Booth, having been set down at their\nlodgings, retired into each other's arms; nor did Booth that evening, by\nthe doctor'", "be, necessity compels us to\nsubmit to them. I know in what light a woman, who loves like you, must\nconsider such a proposal; and yet how many instances have you of women\nwho, from the same motives, have submitted to the same!\"\n\n\"What can you mean, Mr. Booth?\" cries Amelia, trembling.\n\n\"Need I explain my meaning to you more?\" answered Booth.--\"Did I not say\nI must give up my Amelia?\"\n\n\"Give me up!\" said she.\n\n\"For a time only,", "her eyes to no distant\nprospect, the desire of regaining her husband's liberty having engrossed\nher whole mind.\n\nWhile they were discoursing on these matters they heard a violent noise\nin the house, and immediately after several persons passed by their door\nup-stairs to the apartment over their head. This greatly terrified the\ngentle spirit of Amelia, and she cried--\"Good Heavens, my dear, must\nI leave you in this horrid place? I am terrified with a thousand fears\nconcerning you.\"\n\nBooth endeavoured to comfort her", "either of you\nbear that separation which must, some time or other, and perhaps very\nsoon, be the lot of one of you? Have you forgot that you are both\nmortal? As for Christianity, I see you have resigned all pretensions\nto it; for I make no doubt but that you have so set your hearts on the\nhappiness you enjoy here together, that neither of you ever think a word\nof hereafter.\"\n\nAmelia now burst into tears; upon which Booth begged the doctor to\nproceed no farther. Indeed, he would not have wanted the caution", "that he had not been heard in the\ntempest, came into the room. The moment Amelia saw him, the tears which\nhad been gathering for some time, burst in a torrent from her eyes,\nwhich, however, she endeavoured to conceal with her handkerchief. The\nentry of Booth turned all in an instant into a silent picture, in which\nthe first figure which struck the eyes of the captain was the serjeant\non his knees to his wife.\n\nBooth immediately cried, \"What's the meaning of this?\" but received no\nanswer. He", "Booth and his wife, the moment their companion was gone, sat down to\nsupper on a piece of cold meat, the remains of their dinner. After\nwhich, over a pint of wine, they entertained themselves for a while with\nthe ridiculous behaviour of their visitant. But Amelia, declaring she\nrather saw her as the object of pity than anger, turned the discourse\nto pleasanter topics. The little actions of their children, the former\nscenes and future prospects of their life, furnished them with many\npleasant ideas; and the contemplation of Amelia's", "justice\narrived to take her up, the messenger of which returned with the news\nof her flight, highly to the satisfaction of Amelia, and consequently of\nBooth, and, indeed, not greatly to the grief of the doctor.\n\nAbout a week afterwards Booth and Amelia, with their children, and\nCaptain Atkinson and his lady, all set forward together for Amelia's\nhouse, where they arrived amidst the acclamations of all the neighbours,\nand every public demonstration of joy.\n\nThey found the house ready prepared to receive them by At", ", and began to prescribe comfort and patience to him;\nsaying, he must rest satisfied with his confinement that night; and the\nnext morning he promised to visit him again.\n\nBooth answered, that as for himself, the lying one night in any place\nwas very little worth his regard. \"You and I, my dear friend, have both\nspent our evening in a worse situation than I shall in this house. All\nmy concern is for my poor Amelia, whose sufferings on account of my\nabsence I know, and I feel with unspeakable tenderness. Could", "therefore, my dear love; for you have a\nwife who will think herself happy with you, and endeavour to make you\nso, in any situation. Fear nothing, Billy, industry will always provide\nus a wholesome meal; and I will take care that neatness and chearfulness\nshall make it a pleasant one.\"\n\nBooth presently took the cue which she had given him. He fixed his eyes\non her for a minute with great earnestness and inexpressible tenderness;\nand then cried, \"O my Amelia, how much are you my superior in", ", his greatest comfort\nwas, that Amelia and Booth were now separated; and his greatest terror\nwas of their coming again together. From wishes, therefore, he began to\nmeditate designs; and so far was he from any intention of procuring the\nliberty of his friend, that he began to form schemes of prolonging his\nconfinement, till he could procure some means of sending him away far\nfrom her; in which case he doubted not but of succeeding in all he\ndesired.\n\nHe was forming this plan in his mind when a servant informed him that", "is even so,\" answered Amelia. Indeed, she spoke truth; for little\nBetty, having perceived the evening before that her mistress was moving\nher goods, was willing to lend all the assistance in her power, and had\naccordingly moved off early that morning, taking with her whatever she\ncould lay her hands on.\n\nBooth expressed himself with some passion on the occasion, and swore he\nwould make an example of the girl. \"If the little slut be above ground,\"\ncried he, \"I will find her out, and bring her to justice.\"\n\n", "\"Upon my word, doctor,\" answered Booth, \"no Popish confessor, I firmly\nbelieve, ever pronounced his will and pleasure with more gravity and\ndignity; none therefore was ever more immediately obeyed than you shall\nbe.\" Booth then quitted the room, and desired the doctor to recall him\nwhen his business with the lady was over.\n\nDoctor Harrison promised he would; and then turning to Amelia he said,\n\"Thus far, madam, I have obeyed your commands, and am now ready to\nreceive the important secret which you mention in", "separated. Amelia and Booth went together in Amelia's\ncoach, and poor Miss Matthews was obliged to retire alone, after\nhaving satisfied the demands of the governor, which in one day only had\namounted to a pretty considerable sum; for he, with great dexterity,\nproportioned the bills to the abilities of his guests.\n\nIt may seem, perhaps, wonderful to some readers, that Miss Matthews\nshould have maintained that cold reserve towards Amelia, so as barely to\nkeep within the rules of civility, instead of embracing an opportunity", "\nthousand pound and upwards. But Booth, to whom Amelia communicated the\nletter, prevented her by ordering the man that went with the express\n(who had been a serjeant of the foot-guards recommended to him by\nAtkinson) to suffer the lady to go whither she pleased, but not to take\nanything with her except her cloaths, which he was carefully to search.\nThese orders were obeyed punctually, and with these she was obliged to\ncomply.\n\nTwo days after the bird was flown a warrant from the lord chief", "\nmorning, and the servant knew not whither she was gone.\n\nThe two ladies now sat down to breakfast, together with Amelia's two\nchildren; after which, Amelia declared she would take a coach and visit\nher husband. To this motion Mrs. Atkinson soon agreed, and offered to be\nher companion. To say truth, I think it was reasonable enough; and the\ngreat abhorrence which Booth had of seeing his wife in a bailiff's house\nwas, perhaps, rather too nice and delicate.\n\nWhen the ladies were both drest, and" ], [ "\nThis poor gentleman had very little time to reflect on his own misery,\nor the rascality, as it appeared to him, of the other, when the same\nperson who had the day before delivered him the guinea from the unknown\nhand, again accosted him, and told him a lady in the house (so he\nexpressed himself) desired the favour of his company.\n\nMr. Booth immediately obeyed the message, and was conducted into a room\nin the prison, where he was presently convinced that Mrs. Vincent was no\nother than his old acquaintance Miss Matt", "at last began himself in the following manner: \"Doctor, I am\nreally ashamed to see you; and, if you knew the confusion of my soul on\nthis occasion, I am sure you would pity rather than upbraid me; and yet\nI can say with great sincerity I rejoice in this last instance of my\nshame, since I am like to reap the most solid advantage from it.\" The\ndoctor stared at this, and Booth thus proceeded: \"Since I have been in\nthis wretched place I have employed my time almost entirely in reading\nover", "very unusual thing with him, grew\nintoxicated with liquor; most of the men were in the same condition;\nnay, I myself drank more than I was accustomed to, enough to inflame,\nthough not to disorder. I lost my former bed-fellow, my sister, and--you\nmay, I think, guess the rest--the villain found means to steal to my\nchamber, and I was undone.\n\n\"Two months I passed in this detested commerce, buying, even then, my\nguilty, half-tasted pleasures at too dear", "he was master,\nand appeared before his mistress arrayed in all the brightness of\npeerage; a sight whose charms she had not the power to resist, and the\nconsequences are only to be imagined. In short, the same scene which\nJupiter acted with his above-mentioned mistress of old was more than\nbeginning, when Trent burst from the closet into which he had conveyed\nhimself, and unkindly interrupted the action.\n\nHis lordship presently run to his sword; but Trent, with great calmness,\nanswered, \"", "a fool in concerning myself thus with the affairs\nof others. I know the thankless office I undertake; and yet I love you\nso, my dear Mrs. Booth, that I cannot bear to see you afflicted, and I\nwould comfort you if you would suffer me. Let me beg you to make your\nmind easy; and within these two days I will engage to set your husband\nat liberty.\n\n\"Harkee, child; only behave like a woman of spirit this evening, and\nkeep your appointment, notwithstanding what hath happened; and I am\nconvinced", "was become\nvery uneasy, and break my prison; but Fortune contrived to release me\nsooner, by the following means: The house where I now was had been left\nin the care of one maid-servant. This faithful creature came into the\nhall with the footman who had driven the cart. A scene of the highest\nfondness having past between them, the fellow proposed, and the maid\nconsented, to open the hamper and drink a bottle together, which,\nthey agreed, their mistress would hardly miss in such a quantity. They\npresently began to execute", "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", "That, as it was very well known he durst fight, he should not\ndraw his sword on this occasion; for sure,\" says he, \"my lord, it would\nbe the highest imprudence in me to kill a man who is now become so\nconsiderably my debtor.\" At which words he fetched a person from the\ncloset, who had been confined with him, telling him he had done his\nbusiness, and might now, if he pleased, retire.\n\nIt would be tedious here to amuse the reader with all that passed on the\npresent occasion; the", "all was the\neffect of a long, regular, premeditated design.\n\n\"You may remember, madam, I told you that we were recommended to Mrs.\nEllison by the woman at whose house we had before lodged. This woman, it\nseems, was one of my lord's pimps, and had before introduced me to his\nlordship's notice.\n\n\"You are to know then, madam, that this villain, this lord, now confest\nto me that he had first seen me in the gallery at the oratorio, whither", "contrivances to seduce her virtue; especially if he\ndid this under the colour of entertaining the highest friendship for\nyourself.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" cries Trent. \"It is human nature.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it is,\" cries Booth; \"but it is human nature depraved, stript\nof all its worth, and loveliness, and dignity, and degraded down to a\nlevel with the vilest brutes.\"\n\n\"Look ye, Booth,\" cries Trent, \"I would not be misunderstood. I think,\nwhen I", "almost deprived me of my senses; for the villain\nHebbers came presently in and seated himself behind her.\n\n\"He had been almost a month from me, and I believed him to be at his\nquarters in Yorkshire. Guess what were my sensations when I beheld\nhim sitting by that base woman, and talking to her with the utmost\nfamiliarity. I could not long endure this sight, and having acquainted\nmy companion that I was taken suddenly ill, I forced her to go home with\nme at the end of the second act.\n\n\"After", "fits, she repeated scarce any other\nname but mine; and it plainly appeared that, when her dear reason was\nravished away from her, it had left my image on her fancy, and that\nthe last use she made of it was to think on me. 'Send for my dear Billy\nimmediately,' she cried; 'I know he will come to me in a moment. Will\nnobody fetch him to me? pray don't kill me before I see him once more.\nYou durst not use me so if he was here.'--Every accent still rings in\nmy ears.", "our last meeting, your concern will be raised,\nhowever your astonishment may cease. O, sir! you are a stranger to the\ncause of my sorrows.\"\n\n\"I hope I am, madam,\" answered he; \"for I cannot believe what I have\nheard in the prison--surely murder\"--at which words she started from her\nchair, repeating, \"Murder! oh! it is music in my ears!--You have heard\nthen the cause of my commitment, my glory, my delight, my reparation!\nYes, my old friend,", "the art or folly of it be the more conspicuous; for,\nhowever delicate and refined the art must be allowed to have been, the\nfolly, I think, must upon a fair examination appear no less astonishing:\nfor to lay all considerations of cruelty and crime out of the case, what\na foolish bargain doth the man make for himself who purchases so poor a\npleasure at so high a price!\n\n\"We had lived near three weeks with as much freedom as if we had been\nall of the same family, when, one afternoon, my lord", "candid reader will be pleased to weigh attentively\nthe several unlucky circumstances which concurred so critically, that\nFortune seemed to have used her utmost endeavours to ensnare poor\nBooth's constancy. Let the reader set before his eyes a fine young\nwoman, in a manner, a first love, conferring obligations and using every\nart to soften, to allure, to win, and to enflame; let him consider the\ntime and place; let him remember that Mr. Booth was a young fellow\nin the highest vigour of life", ", his greatest comfort\nwas, that Amelia and Booth were now separated; and his greatest terror\nwas of their coming again together. From wishes, therefore, he began to\nmeditate designs; and so far was he from any intention of procuring the\nliberty of his friend, that he began to form schemes of prolonging his\nconfinement, till he could procure some means of sending him away far\nfrom her; in which case he doubted not but of succeeding in all he\ndesired.\n\nHe was forming this plan in his mind when a servant informed him that", "said Amelia.--\"O,\nvery well,\" answered the serjeant. \"Pray, madam, don't be frightened; I\nhope it will signify nothing--he is arrested, but I hope to get him out\nof their damned hands immediately.\" \"Where is he?\" cries Amelia; \"I will\ngo to him this instant!\" \"He begs you will not,\" answered the serjeant.\n\"I have sent his lawyer to him, and am going back with Mrs. Ellison this\nmoment; but I beg your ladyship, for his sake, and", "an impossible attempt, which might, in\nother places, crown your sinful endeavours with success.'\n\n\"And so ends the dismal ditty.\"\n\n\"D--n me,\" cries one, \"did ever mortal hear such d--ned stuff?\"\n\n\"Upon my soul,\" said another, \"I like the last argument well enough.\nThere is some sense in that; for d--n me if I had not rather go to\nD--g--ss at any time than follow a virtuous b---- for a fortnight.\"\n\n\"Tom,\" says one of them", "which was, that he\nwas committed for murder. But, though she had discredited this part, she\nsaid the not hearing from him during several successive posts made her\ntoo apprehensive of the rest; that she got a conveyance therefore for\nherself and children to Salisbury, from whence the stage coach had\nbrought them to town; and, having deposited the children at his lodging,\nof which he had sent her an account on his first arrival in town, she\ntook a hack, and came directly to the prison where she heard he was,", "oth that,\nhaving heard there was a person in the prison who knew her by the name\nof Matthews, she had great curiosity to inquire who he was, whereupon he\nhad been shewn to her from the window of the house; that she immediately\nrecollected him, and, being informed of his distressful situation, for\nwhich she expressed great concern, she had sent him that guinea which\nhe had received the day before; and then proceeded to excuse herself\nfor not having desired to see him at that time, when she was under the\ngreatest disorder and" ], [ "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", ". Newgate, to be sure, is the place\nfor all debtors that can't find bail. I knows what civility is, and I\nscorn to behave myself unbecoming a gentleman: but I'd have you consider\nthat the twenty-four hours appointed by act of parliament are almost\nout; and so it is time to think of removing. As to bail, I would not\nhave you flatter yourself; for I knows very well there are other things\ncoming against you. Besides, the sum you are already charged with is\nvery large, and I must see you in a place", "\nBooth then proceeded to enquire after the other gentlemen, his fellows\nin affliction; upon which Bondum acquainted him that one of the\nprisoners was a poor fellow. \"He calls himself a gentleman,\" said\nBondum; \"but I am sure I never saw anything genteel by him. In a week\nthat he hath been in my house he hath drank only part of one bottle of\nwine. I intend to carry him to Newgate within a day or two, if he can't\nfind bail, which, I suppose, he will not", "far from expecting any more\nfavours from the colonel, that he had resolved not to let him know\nanything of his misfortune. \"No, my dear friend,\" cries he, \"I am\ntoo much obliged to you already;\" and then burst into many fervent\nexpressions of gratitude, till the colonel himself stopt him, and begged\nhim to give an account of the debt or debts for which he was detained in\nthat horrid place.\n\nBooth answered, he could not be very exact, but he feared it was upwards\nof", "t know what;\nbut this I know, that several gentlemen have lived here a long time\nvery comfortably, and have defied all the vengeance of their creditors.\nHowever, in the mean time, you must be a close prisoner with your lady;\nand I believe there is no man in England but would exchange his liberty\nfor the same gaol.\"\n\nShe then departed in order to send for the attorney, and presently\nafterwards the serjeant arrived with news of the like kind. He said he\nhad scraped an acquaintance with Murphy. \"I hope", "\nno debtor. I am the king's officer as well as you, and I will spend\nguinea for guinea as long as you please.\"\n\n\"Harkee, rascal,\" cries Booth, laying hold of the bailiff's collar.\n\"How dare you treat me with this insolence? doth the law give you any\nauthority to insult me in my misfortunes?\" At which words he gave the\nbailiff a good shove, and threw him from him.\n\n\"Very well, sir,\" cries the bailiff; \"I will swear both", "ition should mislead the reader to search the palaces of the great,\nwe will direct him at once to Gray's-inn-lane; where, in a miserable\nbed, in a miserable room, he will see a miserable broken lieutenant, in\na miserable condition, with several heavy debts on his back, and\nwithout a penny in his pocket. This, and no other, was the object of\nthe colonel's envy. And why? because this wretch was possessed of the\naffections of a poor little lamb, which all the vast flocks that\nwere", "hire, which amounted\nto two shillings, according to the bailiff's account; that being just\ndouble the legal fare. He was then asked if he did not chuse a bowl of\npunch? to which he having answered in the negative, the bailiff replied,\n\"Nay, sir, just as you please. I don't ask you to drink, if you don't\nchuse it; but certainly you know the custom; the house is full of\nprisoners, and I can't afford gentlemen a room to themselves for\nnothing.\"\n\nBo", ", and had given him very\ngreat uneasiness; but to answer this demand in any other manner than by\npaying the money was absolutely what he could not bear. Again, to pay\nthis money, he very plainly saw there was but one way, and this was, by\nstripping his wife, not only of every farthing, but almost of every rag\nshe had in the world; a thought so dreadful that it chilled his very\nsoul with horror: and yet pride, at last, seemed to represent this as\nthe lesser evil of the two.\n\nBut how to", "ries the colonel.\n\n\"I mean, sir, that I must search the office, and that is now shut up;\nfor, if my lord mayor and the court of aldermen would be bound for him,\nI would not discharge him till I had searched the office.\"\n\n\"How, sir!\" cries the colonel, \"hath the law of England no more regard\nfor the liberty of the subject than to suffer such fellows as you to\ndetain a man in custody for debt, when he can give undeniable security?\"\n\n\"Don't fellow me,\"", "bail would not be taken for that\nsum. You must consider, therefore, madam, what chance you have of\nredeeming him; unless you chuse, as perhaps some wives would, that he\nshould lie all his life in prison.\"\n\nAt these words Amelia discharged a shower of tears, and gave every mark\nof the most frantic grief.\n\n\"Why, there now,\" cries Mrs. Ellison, \"while you will indulge these\nextravagant passions, how can you be capable of listening to the voice\nof reason? I know I am", "former prisoners to make\nthem drink. This, he said, was what they call garnish, and concluded\nwith advising his new customer to draw his purse upon the present\noccasion. Mr. Booth answered that he would very readily comply with this\nlaudable custom, was it in his power; but that in reality he had not a\nshilling in his pocket, and, what was worse, he had not a shilling in\nthe world.--\"Oho! if that be the case,\" cries the keeper, \"it is another\nmatter, and I have", ", men must be obliged to pay their debts,\nor else there would be an end of everything.\" Booth desired the bailiff\nto give him his opinion on liberty. Upon which, he hesitated a moment,\nand then cried out, \"O 'tis a fine thing, 'tis a very fine thing,\nand the constitution of England.\" Booth told him, that by the old\nconstitution of England he had heard that men could not be arrested for\ndebt; to which the bailiff answered, that must have been in very bad\ntimes; \"because as why,\" says he", "of Chelsea, but could not\nimmediately, as none of his officers were then in England. In the mean\ntime, he was one day apprehended and committed hither on suspicion of\nstealing three herrings from a fishmonger. He was tried several months\nago for this offence, and acquitted; indeed, his innocence manifestly\nappeared at the trial; but he was brought back again for his fees, and\nhere he hath lain ever since.\"\n\nBooth exprest great horror at this account, and declared, if he had only\nso much", ", and entered the room with an air of\ngaiety rather misbecoming the occasion. When she had seated herself in\na chair she told Amelia that the captain was very well and in good\nspirits, and that he earnestly desired her to keep up hers. \"Come,\nmadam,\" said she, \"don't be disconsolate; I hope we shall soon be able\nto get him out of his troubles. The debts, indeed, amount to more than I\nexpected; however, ways may be found to redeem him. He must own himself\nguilty of some rash", "Murphy's being the attorney employed\nagainst him, as all his debts, except only to Captain James, arose in\nthe country, where he did not know that Mr. Murphy had any acquaintance.\nHowever, he made no doubt that he was the person intended, and resolved\nto remain a close prisoner in his own lodgings, till he saw the event\nof a proposal which had been made him the evening before at the tavern,\nwhere an honest gentleman, who had a post under the government, and who\nwas one of the company, had promised to serve him with the", "end of four\nyears I became involved in debt near three hundred pounds more than the\nvalue of all my effects. My landlord seized my stock for rent, and, to\navoid immediate confinement in prison, I was forced to leave the country\nwith all that I hold dear in the world, my wife and my poor little\nfamily.\n\n\"In this condition I arrived in town five or six days ago. I had just\ntaken a lodging in the verge of the court, and had writ my dear Amelia\nword where she might find me, when she had settled her affairs in", "oth that,\nhaving heard there was a person in the prison who knew her by the name\nof Matthews, she had great curiosity to inquire who he was, whereupon he\nhad been shewn to her from the window of the house; that she immediately\nrecollected him, and, being informed of his distressful situation, for\nwhich she expressed great concern, she had sent him that guinea which\nhe had received the day before; and then proceeded to excuse herself\nfor not having desired to see him at that time, when she was under the\ngreatest disorder and", "four hundred pounds.\n\n\"It is but three hundred pounds, indeed, sir,\" cries the serjeant; \"if\nyou can raise three hundred pounds, you are a free man this moment.\"\n\nBooth, who did not apprehend the generous meaning of the serjeant as\nwell as, I believe, the reader will, answered he was mistaken; that he\nhad computed his debts, and they amounted to upwards of four hundred\npounds; nay, that the bailiff had shewn him writs for above that sum.\n\n\"Whether your debts", "where Amelia was, while\nBooth was to be engaged at play in another.\n\nAnd now after much debate, and after Trent had acquainted my lord with\nthe wretched situation of Booth's circumstances, it was resolved that\nTrent should immediately demand his money of Booth, and upon his not\npaying it, for they both concluded it impossible he should pay it, to\nput the note which Trent had for the money in suit against him by the\ngenteel means of paying it away to a nominal third person; and this\nthey both conceived must end" ], [ "was obtained, though not\nwithout much difficulty; for, though he had naturally some inclination\nto gaming, and had formerly a little indulged it, yet he had entirely\nleft it off for many years.\n\nBooth and his friend were partners, and had at first some success;\nbut Fortune, according to her usual conduct, soon shifted about, and\npersecuted Booth with such malice, that in about two hours he was\nstripped of all the gold in his pocket, which amounted to twelve\nguineas, being more than half the cash which he was at that time", "believe, shews them any\ncountenance when they engage in play with knaves.\n\nThe more Booth lost, the deeper he made his bets; the consequence of\nwhich was, that about two in the morning, besides the loss of his own\nmoney, he was fifty pounds indebted to Trent: a sum, indeed, which he\nwould not have borrowed, had not the other, like a very generous friend,\npushed it upon him.\n\nTrent's pockets became at last dry by means of these loans. His own\nloss, indeed, was", "trifling; for the stakes of the games were no higher\nthan crowns, and betting (as it is called) was that to which Booth\nowed his ruin. The gentlemen, therefore, pretty well knowing Booth's\ncircumstances, and being kindly unwilling to win more of a man than he\nwas worth, declined playing any longer, nor did Booth once ask them to\npersist, for he was ashamed of the debt which he had already contracted\nto Trent, and very far from desiring to encrease it.\n\nThe company then separated", ", Booth recollected the omission he\nhad been guilty of the night before. He wrote a short note therefore to\nhis wife, acquainting her that he should not come home to supper; but\ncomforted her with a faithful promise that he would on no account engage\nhimself in gaming.\n\nThe first bottle passed in ordinary conversation; but, when they had\ntapped the second, Booth, on some hints which Trent gave him, very\nfairly laid open to him his whole circumstances, and declared he almost\ndespaired of mending them. \"My", "flying again into her arms, \"thou art my dearest woman, my\nbest, my beloved wife!\"\n\nAmelia, having returned all his caresses with equal kindness, told him\nshe had near eleven guineas in her purse, and asked how much she should\nfetch him. \"I would not advise you, Billy, to carry too much in your\npocket, for fear it should be a temptation to you to return to gaming,\nin order to retrieve your past losses. Let me beg you, on all accounts,\nnever to think more, if possible, on the tr", "time very uneasily ever since he had discovered what sort of man he was\nindebted to; but, lest he should forget it, Mr. Trent thought now proper\nto remind him in the following letter, which he read the next morning\nafter he had put off the appointment.\n\n\"SIR,--I am sorry the necessity of my affairs obliges me to mention that\nsmall sum which I had the honour to lend you the other night at play;\nand which I shall be much obliged to you if you will let me have some\ntime either to-day or to-", "worth.\n\nHow easy it is for a man who is at all tainted with the itch of gaming\nto leave off play in such a situation, especially when he is likewise\nheated with liquor, I leave to the gamester to determine. Certain it is\nthat Booth had no inclination to desist; but, on the contrary, was so\neagerly bent on playing on, that he called his friend out of the room,\nand asked him for ten pieces, which he promised punctually to pay the\nnext morning.\n\nTrent chid him for using so much form", "in the world for which he was liable to be\nsued.\"\n\n\"I know not what to say,\" cries Amelia. \"Indeed, I am afraid to tell you\nthe truth.\"\n\n\"How, child?\" said the doctor--\"I hope you will never disguise it to any\none, especially to me. Any prevarication, I promise you, will forfeit my\nfriendship for ever.\"\n\n\"I will tell you the whole,\" cries Amelia, \"and rely entirely on your\ngoodness.\" She then related the gaming story, not forgetting", ", this it is which causes all my\naffliction.\"\n\n\"You guess truly, my sweet,\" replied Booth; \"I am indeed afflicted,\nand I will not, nay I cannot, conceal the truth from you. I have undone\nmyself, Amelia.\"\n\n\"What have you done, child?\" said she, in some consternation; \"pray,\ntell me.\"\n\n\"I have lost my money at play,\" answered he.\n\n\"Pugh!\" said she, recovering herself--\"what signifies the trifle you", "to have no manner of doubt.\n\nThe affair that happened at the gaming-table was likewise a scheme of\nTrent's, on a hint given by my lord to him to endeavour to lead Booth\ninto some scrape or distress; his lordship promising to pay whatever\nexpense Trent might be led into by such means. Upon his lordship's\ncredit, therefore, the money lent to Booth was really advanced. And\nhence arose all that seeming generosity and indifference as to the\npayment; Trent being satisfied with the obligation conferred on", ", and entered the room with an air of\ngaiety rather misbecoming the occasion. When she had seated herself in\na chair she told Amelia that the captain was very well and in good\nspirits, and that he earnestly desired her to keep up hers. \"Come,\nmadam,\" said she, \"don't be disconsolate; I hope we shall soon be able\nto get him out of his troubles. The debts, indeed, amount to more than I\nexpected; however, ways may be found to redeem him. He must own himself\nguilty of some rash", "to see, for a reason\nwell known to gamesters; among whom, the most dishonourable of all\nthings is not to pay a debt, contracted at the gaming-table, the next\nday, or the next time at least that you see the party.\n\nBooth made no doubt but that Trent was come on purpose to receive this\ndebt; the latter had been therefore scarce a minute in the room before\nBooth began, in an aukward manner, to apologise; but Trent immediately\nstopt his mouth, and said, \"I do not want", "money in his pocket, he would pay his fees for him; but added\nthat he was not possessed of a single farthing in the world.\n\nRobinson hesitated a moment, and then said, with a smile, \"I am going to\nmake you, sir, a very odd proposal after your last declaration; but what\nsay you to a game at cards? it will serve to pass a tedious hour, and\nmay divert your thoughts from more unpleasant speculations.\"\n\nI do not imagine Booth would have agreed to this; for, though some\nlove of gaming had been formerly amongst", "(though now very disagreeable in her person, and\nimmensely fat) to such a degree, that he submits to be treated by her in\nthe most tyrannical manner.\n\nHe allows his lady eight hundred pound a-year, with which she divides\nher time between Tunbridge, Bath, and London, and passes about nine\nhours in the twenty-four at cards. Her income is lately increased by\nthree thousand pound left her by her brother Colonel Bath, who was\nkilled in a duel about six years ago by a gentleman who told the colonel\nhe differ", "to set in\nthe fullest light, and to lay the strongest emphasis on, his promise\nnever to play again.\n\nThe doctor fetched a deep sigh when he had heard Amelia's relation,\nand cried, \"I am sorry, child, for the share you are to partake in your\nhusband's sufferings; but as for him, I really think he deserves no\ncompassion. You say he hath promised never to play again, but I must\ntell you he hath broke his promise to me already; for I had heard he\nwas formerly addicted to this", "seventy pounds, you will not wonder that, in diversions, cloaths, and\nthe common expenses of life, we had almost consumed our whole stock.\n\n\"The inconsiderate manner in which we had lived for some time will, I\ndoubt not, appear to you to want some excuse; but I have none to make\nfor it. Two things, however, now happened, which occasioned much serious\nreflexion to Mr. Bennet; the one was, that I grew near my time; the\nother, that he now received a letter from Oxford, demanding the debt\n", "his faults, yet he was not so\negregiously addicted to that vice as to be tempted by the shabby plight\nof Robinson, who had, if I may so express myself, no charms for\na gamester. If he had, however, any such inclinations, he had no\nopportunity to follow them, for, before he could make any answer to\nRobinson's proposal, a strapping wench came up to Booth, and, taking\nhold of his arm, asked him to walk aside with her; saying, \"What a pox,\n", "a dependence on that ticket\nwhich he had so dearly purchased of one who pretended to manage the\nwheels in the great state lottery of preferment. A lottery, indeed,\nwhich hath this to recommend it--that many poor wretches feed their\nimaginations with the prospect of a prize during their whole lives, and\nnever discover they have drawn a blank.\n\nAmelia, who was of a pretty sanguine temper, and was entirely ignorant\nof these matters, was full as easy to be deceived into hopes as her\nhusband; but in reality at present she turned", ",' said he,\n'to rejoice at an accident which, though it brought me fortunately\nacquainted with two of the most agreeable people in the world, was yet\nat the expense of your mutual felicity. The circumstance, I mean, is\nyour debt at Oxford; pray, how doth that stand? I am resolved it shall\nnever disturb your happiness hereafter.' At these words the tears burst\nfrom my poor husband's eyes; and, in an ecstasy of gratitude, he cried\nout, 'Your lordship overcomes me with generosity. If you go on", "prisoner in the house that I dare say you will like\nvery much. He is, indeed, very much of a gentleman, and spends his money\nlike one. I have had him only three days, and I am afraid he won't stay\nmuch longer. They say, indeed, he is a gamester; but what is that to me\nor any one, as long as a man appears as a gentleman? I always love to\nspeak by people as I find; and, in my opinion, he is fit company for\nthe greatest lord in the land; for he hath very good clo" ], [ "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", "far from expecting any more\nfavours from the colonel, that he had resolved not to let him know\nanything of his misfortune. \"No, my dear friend,\" cries he, \"I am\ntoo much obliged to you already;\" and then burst into many fervent\nexpressions of gratitude, till the colonel himself stopt him, and begged\nhim to give an account of the debt or debts for which he was detained in\nthat horrid place.\n\nBooth answered, he could not be very exact, but he feared it was upwards\nof", ". Newgate, to be sure, is the place\nfor all debtors that can't find bail. I knows what civility is, and I\nscorn to behave myself unbecoming a gentleman: but I'd have you consider\nthat the twenty-four hours appointed by act of parliament are almost\nout; and so it is time to think of removing. As to bail, I would not\nhave you flatter yourself; for I knows very well there are other things\ncoming against you. Besides, the sum you are already charged with is\nvery large, and I must see you in a place", "bted. This is the usual place, I apprehend,\nfor creditors to send their debtors to. But you ought to be more\nsurprized that the gentleman who sent you hither is come to release you.\nMr. Murphy, you will perform all the necessary ceremonials.\"\n\nThe attorney then asked the bailiff with how many actions Booth was\ncharged, and was informed there were five besides the doctor's, which\nwas much the heaviest of all. Proper bonds were presently provided, and\nthe doctor and the serjeant's friend signed them", "t know what;\nbut this I know, that several gentlemen have lived here a long time\nvery comfortably, and have defied all the vengeance of their creditors.\nHowever, in the mean time, you must be a close prisoner with your lady;\nand I believe there is no man in England but would exchange his liberty\nfor the same gaol.\"\n\nShe then departed in order to send for the attorney, and presently\nafterwards the serjeant arrived with news of the like kind. He said he\nhad scraped an acquaintance with Murphy. \"I hope", "four hundred pounds.\n\n\"It is but three hundred pounds, indeed, sir,\" cries the serjeant; \"if\nyou can raise three hundred pounds, you are a free man this moment.\"\n\nBooth, who did not apprehend the generous meaning of the serjeant as\nwell as, I believe, the reader will, answered he was mistaken; that he\nhad computed his debts, and they amounted to upwards of four hundred\npounds; nay, that the bailiff had shewn him writs for above that sum.\n\n\"Whether your debts", "\nBooth then proceeded to enquire after the other gentlemen, his fellows\nin affliction; upon which Bondum acquainted him that one of the\nprisoners was a poor fellow. \"He calls himself a gentleman,\" said\nBondum; \"but I am sure I never saw anything genteel by him. In a week\nthat he hath been in my house he hath drank only part of one bottle of\nwine. I intend to carry him to Newgate within a day or two, if he can't\nfind bail, which, I suppose, he will not", "was become\nvery uneasy, and break my prison; but Fortune contrived to release me\nsooner, by the following means: The house where I now was had been left\nin the care of one maid-servant. This faithful creature came into the\nhall with the footman who had driven the cart. A scene of the highest\nfondness having past between them, the fellow proposed, and the maid\nconsented, to open the hamper and drink a bottle together, which,\nthey agreed, their mistress would hardly miss in such a quantity. They\npresently began to execute", "bail would not be taken for that\nsum. You must consider, therefore, madam, what chance you have of\nredeeming him; unless you chuse, as perhaps some wives would, that he\nshould lie all his life in prison.\"\n\nAt these words Amelia discharged a shower of tears, and gave every mark\nof the most frantic grief.\n\n\"Why, there now,\" cries Mrs. Ellison, \"while you will indulge these\nextravagant passions, how can you be capable of listening to the voice\nof reason? I know I am", "\nThis poor gentleman had very little time to reflect on his own misery,\nor the rascality, as it appeared to him, of the other, when the same\nperson who had the day before delivered him the guinea from the unknown\nhand, again accosted him, and told him a lady in the house (so he\nexpressed himself) desired the favour of his company.\n\nMr. Booth immediately obeyed the message, and was conducted into a room\nin the prison, where he was presently convinced that Mrs. Vincent was no\nother than his old acquaintance Miss Matt", ",' said he,\n'to rejoice at an accident which, though it brought me fortunately\nacquainted with two of the most agreeable people in the world, was yet\nat the expense of your mutual felicity. The circumstance, I mean, is\nyour debt at Oxford; pray, how doth that stand? I am resolved it shall\nnever disturb your happiness hereafter.' At these words the tears burst\nfrom my poor husband's eyes; and, in an ecstasy of gratitude, he cried\nout, 'Your lordship overcomes me with generosity. If you go on", "ries the colonel.\n\n\"I mean, sir, that I must search the office, and that is now shut up;\nfor, if my lord mayor and the court of aldermen would be bound for him,\nI would not discharge him till I had searched the office.\"\n\n\"How, sir!\" cries the colonel, \"hath the law of England no more regard\nfor the liberty of the subject than to suffer such fellows as you to\ndetain a man in custody for debt, when he can give undeniable security?\"\n\n\"Don't fellow me,\"", "\nno debtor. I am the king's officer as well as you, and I will spend\nguinea for guinea as long as you please.\"\n\n\"Harkee, rascal,\" cries Booth, laying hold of the bailiff's collar.\n\"How dare you treat me with this insolence? doth the law give you any\nauthority to insult me in my misfortunes?\" At which words he gave the\nbailiff a good shove, and threw him from him.\n\n\"Very well, sir,\" cries the bailiff; \"I will swear both", "a whisper that\nhis confinement was at an end. \"The unfortunate accident, my dear,\" said\nhe, \"which brought this young lady to this melancholy place is entirely\ndetermined; and she is now as absolutely at her liberty as myself.\"\n\nAmelia, imputing the extreme coldness and reserve of the lady to the\ncause already mentioned, advanced still more and more in proportion as\nshe drew back; till the governor, who had withdrawn some time, returned,\nand acquainted Miss Matthews that her coach was at the door; upon which\nthe company soon", "a fool in concerning myself thus with the affairs\nof others. I know the thankless office I undertake; and yet I love you\nso, my dear Mrs. Booth, that I cannot bear to see you afflicted, and I\nwould comfort you if you would suffer me. Let me beg you to make your\nmind easy; and within these two days I will engage to set your husband\nat liberty.\n\n\"Harkee, child; only behave like a woman of spirit this evening, and\nkeep your appointment, notwithstanding what hath happened; and I am\nconvinced", "That, as it was very well known he durst fight, he should not\ndraw his sword on this occasion; for sure,\" says he, \"my lord, it would\nbe the highest imprudence in me to kill a man who is now become so\nconsiderably my debtor.\" At which words he fetched a person from the\ncloset, who had been confined with him, telling him he had done his\nbusiness, and might now, if he pleased, retire.\n\nIt would be tedious here to amuse the reader with all that passed on the\npresent occasion; the", "not be long a prisoner.\"\n\n\"I do!\" cries Amelia: \"O Heavens! is there a thing upon earth--\"\n\n\"Yes, there is a thing upon earth,\" said Mrs. Ellison, \"and a very easy\nthing too; and yet I will venture my life you start when I propose it.\nAnd yet, when I consider that you are a woman of understanding, I know\nnot why I should think so; for sure you must have too much good sense to\nimagine that you can cry your husband out of prison. If this would have\ndone, I", "of Chelsea, but could not\nimmediately, as none of his officers were then in England. In the mean\ntime, he was one day apprehended and committed hither on suspicion of\nstealing three herrings from a fishmonger. He was tried several months\nago for this offence, and acquitted; indeed, his innocence manifestly\nappeared at the trial; but he was brought back again for his fees, and\nhere he hath lain ever since.\"\n\nBooth exprest great horror at this account, and declared, if he had only\nso much", ", men must be obliged to pay their debts,\nor else there would be an end of everything.\" Booth desired the bailiff\nto give him his opinion on liberty. Upon which, he hesitated a moment,\nand then cried out, \"O 'tis a fine thing, 'tis a very fine thing,\nand the constitution of England.\" Booth told him, that by the old\nconstitution of England he had heard that men could not be arrested for\ndebt; to which the bailiff answered, that must have been in very bad\ntimes; \"because as why,\" says he", "he must thank himself for it. If a man will not\nbehave like a gentleman to an officer, he must take the consequence; but\nI must say that for you, captain, you behave yourself like a gentleman,\nand therefore I shall always use you as such; and I hope you will find\nbail soon with all my heart. This is but a paultry sum to what the\nlast was; and I do assure you there is nothing else against you in the\noffice.\"\n\nThe latter part of the bailiff's speech somewhat comforted Amelia, who\nhad been a little" ], [ "rank, and the numberless addresses which were made her by men of\ngreat fortune, prevented my aspiring at the possession of those charms\nwhich seemed so absolutely out of my reach. However it was, I assure\nyou the accident which deprived her of the admiration of others made the\nfirst great impression on my heart in her favour. The injury done to\nher beauty by the overturning of a chaise, by which, as you may well\nremember, her lovely nose was beat all to pieces, gave me an assurance\nthat the woman who had been so much adored for the", "madam, what she may do with her head, but I am\nconvinced she will never more turn up her nose at her betters.' Another\ncried, 'What a very proper match might now be made between Amelia and a\ncertain captain,' who had unfortunately received an injury in the same\npart, though from no shameful cause. Many other sarcasms were thrown\nout, very unworthy to be repeated. I was hurt with perceiving so much\nmalice in human shape, and cried out very bluntly, Indeed, ladies, you\nneed not express such satisfaction", "side. Amelia had some\ndifficulty to conquer the effects of her own surprize on this occasion;\nfor a more ghastly and horrible sight than the bed presented could not\nbe conceived.\n\nAmelia sent Booth to call up the maid of the house, in order to lend\nher assistance; but before his return Mrs. Atkinson began to come to\nherself; and soon after, to the inexpressible joy of the serjeant, it\nwas discovered she had no wound. Indeed, the delicate nose of Amelia\nsoon made", ", Amelia began gently to\nchide me for having concealed my illness from her; for, in three letters\nwhich I had writ her since the accident had happened, there was not\nthe least mention of it, or any hint given by which she could possibly\nconclude I was otherwise than in perfect health. And when I had excused\nmyself, by assigning the true reason, she cried--'O Mr. Booth! and do\nyou know so little of your Amelia as to think I could or would survive\nyou? Would it not be better for one dreadful sight to break my", "at poor Miss Emily's accident; for\nshe will still be the handsomest woman in England. This speech of mine\nwas afterwards variously repeated, by some to my honour, and by others\nrepresented in a contrary light; indeed, it was often reported to be\nmuch ruder than it was. However, it at length reached Amelia's ears.\nShe said she was very much obliged to me, since I could have so much\ncompassion for her as to be rude to a lady on her account.\n\n\"About a month after the accident, when Amelia", "then cast his eyes towards Amelia, and, plainly discerning\nher condition, he ran to her, and in a very tender phrase begged to know\nwhat was the matter. To which she answered, \"Nothing, my dear, nothing\nof any consequence.\" He replied that he would know, and then turned to\nAtkinson, and asked the same question.\n\nAtkinson answered, \"Upon my honour, sir, I know nothing of it. Something\nhath passed between madam and my wife; but what it is I know no more\nthan your honour.\"\n\n\"", "ly, and almost breathless, rushed into the room where she\nthen was with her children.\n\nThis figure Amelia soon recognised to be Mrs. Atkinson, though indeed\nshe was so disguised that at her first entrance Amelia scarce knew her.\nHer eyes were sunk in her head, her hair dishevelled, and not only her\ndress but every feature in her face was in the utmost disorder.\n\nAmelia was greatly shocked at this sight, and the little girl was much\nfrightened; as for the boy, he immediately knew her, and, running", "you think, Miss Matthews, that the misfortune of my Amelia was\ncapable of any aggravation? I assure you, she hath often told me it\nwas aggravated with a circumstance which outweighed all the other\ningredients. This was the cruel insults she received from some of her\nmost intimate acquaintance, several of whom, after many distortions and\ngrimaces, have turned their heads aside, unable to support their secret\ntriumph, and burst into a loud laugh in her hearing.\"\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried Miss Matt", "which they were\nthen engaged, all wonder will, I apprehend, cease. Amelia, however, now\ndeclared she remembered his voice and features perfectly well, and was\nthoroughly satisfied he was the same person. She then accounted for his\nnot having visited in the afternoon, according to his promise, from her\ndeclared resolutions to Mrs. Ellison not to see him. She now burst forth\ninto some very satirical invectives against that lady, and declared she\nhad the art, as well as the wickedness, of the devil himself.\n\nMany", "the surgeon, he very well accounted for them from\na motive too obvious to be mentioned. From these declarations of\nher brother, and the interposition of her friends, and, above all, I\nbelieve, from that vast vent which she had given to her fright, Miss\nBath seemed a little pacified: Amelia, therefore, at last prevailed;\nand, as terror abated, curiosity became the superior passion. I\ntherefore now began to enquire what had occasioned that accident whence\nall the uproar arose.\n\n\"The major took me", "perceived her to be so uneasy, that, as\nhe saw no hopes of contriving any fiction to satisfy her, he thought\nhimself obliged to tell her the truth, or at least part of the truth,\nand confessed that he had had a little skirmish with Colonel Bath, in\nwhich, he said, the colonel had received a slight wound, not at all\ndangerous; \"and this,\" says he, \"is all the whole matter.\" \"If it be\nso,\" cries Amelia, \"I thank Heaven no worse hath happened; but why, my\n", "when she was\nperfectly recovered, about nine in the evening, when she and her husband\nwere just going to supper, she heard a most violent thundering at the\ndoor, and presently after a rustling of silk upon her staircase; at the\nsame time a female voice cried out pretty loud, \"Bless me! what, am I to\nclimb up another pair of stairs?\" upon which Amelia, who well knew\nthe voice, presently ran to the door, and ushered in Mrs. James, most\nsplendidly drest, who put on as", "ce told an untruth in asserting. And when Amelia said, 'She hoped\nher nurse would not betray her,' the good woman answered with much\nwarmth--'Betray you, my dear young madam! no, that I would not, if the\nking would give me all that he is worth: no, not if madam herself would\ngive me the great house, and the whole farm belonging to it.'\n\n\"The good woman then went out and fetched a chicken from the roost,\nwhich she killed, and began to pick, without asking any questions.\n", "which Amelia had no\nconcern; but, in truth, she was desirous of inculcating a good opinion\nof herself, from recounting those transactions where her conduct was\nunexceptionable, before she came to the more dangerous and suspicious\npart of her character. This I really suppose to have been her intention;\nfor to sacrifice the time and patience of Amelia at such a season to the\nmere love of talking of herself would have been as unpardonable in\nher as the bearing it was in Amelia a proof of the most perfect good\nbreeding.\n\n", "rized at not finding Amelia at home, or\nany one that could give an account of her. He was now more surprized to\nsee her come in such a dress, and at the disorder which he very plainly\nperceived in her pale and melancholy countenance. He addressed her first\n(for indeed she was in no great haste to speak), and cried, \"My dear\nchild, what is the matter? where is your husband? some mischief I am\nafraid hath happened to him in my absence.\"\n\n\"O my dear doctor!\" answered Am", "addressed her with as perfect a\nconfidence as if he had not been in the least conscious of having in any\nmanner displeased her; though the reader will hardly suppose that Mrs.\nEllison had kept anything a secret from him.\n\nAmelia was not, however, so forgetful. She made him a very distant\ncourtesy, would scarce vouchsafe an answer to anything he said, and took\nthe first opportunity of shifting her chair and retiring from him.\n\nHer behaviour, indeed, was such that the peer plainly perceived that he\nshould get no advantage by", "came to\nmy assistance, and conveyed me to my room, where a surgeon immediately\nattended me.\n\n\"The injury I had now received was much more dangerous in my surgeon's\nopinion than the former; it caused me to spit blood, and was attended\nwith a fever, and other bad symptoms; so that very fatal consequences\nwere apprehended.\n\n\"In this situation, the image of my Amelia haunted me day and night; and\nthe apprehensions of never seeing her more were so intolerable, that I\nhad thoughts of", "-natured woman, and the\nmoment she heard of Amelia's misfortune was sincerely grieved at it.\nShe had acquiesced on the very first motion with the colonel's design\nof inviting her to her house; and this morning at breakfast, when he had\nacquainted her that Amelia made some difficulty in accepting the offer,\nvery readily undertook to go herself and persuade her friend to accept\nthe invitation.\n\nShe now pressed this matter with such earnestness, that Amelia, who was\nnot extremely versed in the", "vellous, and was constantly the\nlittle hero of his own tale. This made him very entertaining to\nAmelia, who, of all the persons in the world, hath the truest taste and\nenjoyment of the ridiculous; for, whilst no one sooner discovers it in\nthe character of another, no one so well conceals her knowledge of it\nfrom the ridiculous person. I cannot help mentioning a sentiment of hers\non this head, as I think it doth her great honour. 'If I had the same\nneglect,' said she, 'for ridiculous people with the gener", "Well, then, to Amelia I went; she received me with more than usual\ncoldness and reserve; in which, to confess the truth, there appeared\nto me more of anger than indifference, and more of dejection than of\neither. After some short introduction, I revived the discourse of my\namour, and presently mentioned Miss Osborne as the lady whose name I had\nconcealed; adding, that the true reason why I did not mention her before\nwas, that I apprehended there was some little distance between them,\nwhich I hoped to have the" ], [ "reduced in her\ncircumstances and obliged to let out part of her house in lodgings, she\nwas born of a good family and had some considerable relations.\n\nHis lordship was not himself in any office of state, but his fortune\ngave him great authority with those who were. Mrs. Ellison, therefore,\nvery bluntly took an opportunity of recommending Booth to his\nconsideration. She took the first hint from my lord's calling the\ngentleman captain; to which she answered, \"Ay, I wish your lordship\nwould make him", "a marching regiment then ordered to Gibraltar; at which\nplace the attorney heartily hoped that Trent might be knocked on the\nhead; for in that case he thought he might marry his daughter more\nagreeably to his own ambition and to her advantage.\n\nThe regiment into which Trent purchased was the same with that in\nwhich Booth likewise served; the one being an ensign, and the other a\nlieutenant, in the two additional companies.\n\nTrent had no blemish in his military capacity. Though he had had but\nan indifferent education, he", "understanding; for\nshe made not the least objection when it was communicated to her, but\ncontented herself with an express stipulation, that wherever he was\ncommanded to go (for the regiment was now abroad) she would accompany\nhim.\n\nBooth, therefore, accepted his friend's proposal with a profusion of\nacknowledgments; and it was agreed that Booth should draw up a memorial\nof his pretensions, which Colonel James undertook to present to some man\nof power, and to back it with all the force he had.\n\nNor", ", please many readers to see drawn at too full a length. It\nis sufficient to say that this excellent woman not only used her utmost\nendeavours to stifle and conceal her own concern, but said and did\neverything in her power to allay that of her husband.\n\nBooth was, at this time, to meet a person whom we have formerly\nmentioned in the course of our history. This gentleman had a place\nin the War-office, and pretended to be a man of great interest and\nconsequence; by which means he did not only receive great respect", "in doing anything in my power to serve\nyou.--But it will be very difficult, I am afraid, to get you a rank at\nhome. In the West Indies, perhaps, or in some regiment abroad, it may be\nmore easy; and, when I consider your reputation as a soldier, I make\nno doubt of your readiness to go to any place where the service of your\ncountry shall call you.\" Booth answered, \"That he was highly obliged to\nhis lordship, and assured him he would with great chearfulness attend\nhis duty in any part of the world.", "then endeavoured all in his power to persuade Booth to\nthink again of a military life, and very kindly offered him his interest\ntowards obtaining him a company in the regiment under his command. Booth\nmust have been a madman, in his present circumstances, to have hesitated\none moment at accepting such an offer, and he well knew Amelia,\nnotwithstanding her aversion to the army, was much too wise to make\nthe least scruple of giving her consent. Nor was he, as it appeared\nafterwards, mistaken in his opinion of his wife's", "horns, and ordered the two followers, who were now got again on\ntheir legs, to walk down-stairs.\n\n\"So, captain,\" says the doctor, \"when last we parted, I believe we\nneither of us expected to meet in such a place as this.\"\n\n\"Indeed, doctor,\" cries Booth, \"I did not expect to have been sent\nhither by the gentleman who did me that favour.\"\n\n\"How so, sir?\" said the doctor; \"you was sent hither by some person, I\nsuppose, to whom you was inde", "that he had not been heard in the\ntempest, came into the room. The moment Amelia saw him, the tears which\nhad been gathering for some time, burst in a torrent from her eyes,\nwhich, however, she endeavoured to conceal with her handkerchief. The\nentry of Booth turned all in an instant into a silent picture, in which\nthe first figure which struck the eyes of the captain was the serjeant\non his knees to his wife.\n\nBooth immediately cried, \"What's the meaning of this?\" but received no\nanswer. He", "Booth himself; but concealed all that more immediately\nrelated to Amelia.\n\n\"Atkinson,\" cries Booth, \"I cannot be angry with you, for I know you\nlove me, and I have many obligations to you; but you have done wrong\nin censuring the colonel for what he said of me. I deserve all that he\nsaid, and his censures proceeded from his friendship.\"\n\n\"But it was not so kind, sir,\" said Atkinson, \"to say such things to me\nwho am but a serjeant, and at such a", "which he became possessed of the\nletter, and to read it to him; on which occasion, he thought he should\neasily discern by the behaviour of the colonel whether he had been\nsuspected either by Amelia or the doctor without a cause; but as for\nhis wife, he fully resolved not to reveal the secret to her till the\ndoctor's return.\n\nWhile Booth was deeply engaged by himself in these meditations, Captain\nTrent came up to him, and familiarly slapped him on the shoulder.\n\nThey were soon joined by a third gentleman,", "begged him in a whisper to return\nhome; with which request he directly complied.\n\nNothing, I think, remarkable happened to Booth, unless the renewal of\nhis acquaintance with an officer whom he had known abroad, and who made\none of his party at the whist-table.\n\nThe name of this gentleman, with whom the reader will hereafter be\nbetter acquainted, was Trent. He had formerly been in the same regiment\nwith Booth, and there was some intimacy between them. Captain Trent\nexprest great delight in meeting his brother officer", "I desired him to let me look on the\npicture, which he readily did--and I no sooner cast my eyes upon it,\nthan the strong resemblance struck me, and I knew it to be Mrs. Booth.\"\n\n\"Mrs. Booth! what Mrs. Booth?\" cries the doctor.\n\n\"Captain Booth's lady, the captain who is now below,\" said the other.\n\n\"How?\" cries the doctor with great impetuosity.\n\n\"Have patience,\" said the man, \"and you shall hear all. I expressed some\nsur", "the taverns for either\neatables or wind. The captain there need not have been so shy of owning\nhimself when he first came in; we have had captains and other great\ngentlemen here before now; and no shame to them, though I say it. Many a\ngreat gentleman is sometimes found in places that don't become them half\nso well, let me tell them that, Captain Booth, let me tell them that.\"\n\n\"I see, sir,\" answered Booth, a little discomposed, \"that you are\nacquainted with my title", "\nto either of their military characters, yet neither of them had any\nextraordinary desert; and, if merit in the service was a sufficient\nrecommendation, Booth, who had been twice wounded in the siege, seemed\nto have the fairest pretensions; but he remained a poor half-pay\nlieutenant, and the others were, as we have said, one of them a\nlieutenant-colonel, and the other had a regiment. Such rises we often\nsee in life, without being able to give any satisfactory account of the\nmeans, and therefore", "\n\n\n\n\nChapter vii.\n\n_In which Booth receives a visit from Captain Trent_.\n\n\nWhen Booth grew perfectly cool, and began to reflect that he had broken\nhis word to the doctor, in having made the discovery to his wife\nwhich we have seen in the last chapter, that thought gave him great\nuneasiness; and now, to comfort him, Captain Trent came to make him a\nvisit.\n\nThis was, indeed, almost the last man in the world whose company he\nwished for; for he was the only man he was ashamed", "he had a commission in the\nguards, had been guilty of no affront to that honourable body.\n\nBooth had a real affection for Atkinson, though, in fact, he knew not\nhalf his merit. He acquainted him with his lodgings, where he earnestly\ndesired to see him.\n\n[Illustration: _He seized him by the collar._]\n\nAmelia, who was far from being recovered from the terrors into which the\nseeing her husband engaged with the soldier had thrown her, desired to\ngo home: nor was she", "my men in women's cloathes, who told the people\nof the house that he was his sister, just come to town--for we were\ntold by the attorney that he had such a sister, upon which he was let\nup-stairs--and so kept the door ajar till I and another rushed in. Let\nme tell you, captain, there are as good stratagems made use of in our\nbusiness as any in the army.\"\n\n\"But pray, sir,\" said Booth, \"did not you tell me this morning that the\npoor fellow was desperately wounded; n", "of appearing to be subjects of the\nsame prince, engaged in one quarrel, and joined to support one cause, we\nland-men rather seemed to be captives on board an enemy's vessel. This\nis a grievous misfortune, and often proves so fatal to the service, that\nit is great pity some means could not be found of curing it.\"\n\nHere Mr. Booth stopt a while to take breath. We will therefore give the\nsame refreshment to the reader.\n\n\n\n\nChapter v.\n\n_The arrival of Booth at Gibral", "was so pleased with the boy's answer, that he caught him in\nhis arms and kissed him; at which time Booth and his wife returned. The\ndoctor asked which of them was their son's instructor in his religion;\nBooth answered that he must confess Amelia had all the merit of that\nkind. \"I should have rather thought he had learnt of his father,\" cries\nthe doctor; \"for he seems a good soldier-like Christian, and professes\nto hate his enemies with a very good grace.\"\n\n\"How, Billy!\" cries Amelia. \"", "of the\noriginal.\n\nThe colonel, after having discharged himself of two or three articles of\nnews, and made his comments upon them, when the next chair to him\nbecame vacant, called upon Booth to fill it. He then asked him several\nquestions relating to his affairs; and, when he heard he was out of the\narmy, advised him earnestly to use all means to get in again, saying\nthat he was a pretty lad, and they must not lose him.\n\nBooth told him in a whisper that he had a great deal to say to him" ], [ "At length he arrived at the bailiff's mansion, and was ushered into\na room in which were several persons. Booth desired to be alone; upon\nwhich the bailiff waited on him up-stairs into an apartment, the windows\nof which were well fortified with iron bars, but the walls had not the\nleast outwork raised before them; they were, indeed, what is generally\ncalled naked; the bricks having been only covered with a thin plaster,\nwhich in many places was mouldered away.\n\nThe first demand made upon Booth was for coach-", "of Chelsea, but could not\nimmediately, as none of his officers were then in England. In the mean\ntime, he was one day apprehended and committed hither on suspicion of\nstealing three herrings from a fishmonger. He was tried several months\nago for this offence, and acquitted; indeed, his innocence manifestly\nappeared at the trial; but he was brought back again for his fees, and\nhere he hath lain ever since.\"\n\nBooth exprest great horror at this account, and declared, if he had only\nso much", "which was, that he\nwas committed for murder. But, though she had discredited this part, she\nsaid the not hearing from him during several successive posts made her\ntoo apprehensive of the rest; that she got a conveyance therefore for\nherself and children to Salisbury, from whence the stage coach had\nbrought them to town; and, having deposited the children at his lodging,\nof which he had sent her an account on his first arrival in town, she\ntook a hack, and came directly to the prison where she heard he was,", "\nBooth then proceeded to enquire after the other gentlemen, his fellows\nin affliction; upon which Bondum acquainted him that one of the\nprisoners was a poor fellow. \"He calls himself a gentleman,\" said\nBondum; \"but I am sure I never saw anything genteel by him. In a week\nthat he hath been in my house he hath drank only part of one bottle of\nwine. I intend to carry him to Newgate within a day or two, if he can't\nfind bail, which, I suppose, he will not", "after your honour these three months. Come, sir,\nyou must go to my house, if you please.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered\nBooth, \"if it be anywhere hereabouts.\" \"Oh, it is but a little ways\noff,\" replied the bailiff; \"it is only in Gray's-inn-lane, just by\nalmost.\" He then called a coach, and desired his prisoner to walk in.\n\nBooth entered the coach without any resistance, which, had he been\ninclined to make, he must have plainly perceived would have been\nineffectual", "elia, \"sure some good angel hath sent you\nhither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable\ncondition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.\"\n\n\"Arrested!\" cries the doctor. \"Then it must be for some very\ninconsiderable trifle.\"\n\n\"I wish it was,\" said Amelia; \"but it is for no less than fifty pound.\"\n\n\"Then,\" cries the doctor, \"he hath been disingenuous with me. He told\nme he did not owe ten pounds", "of passion, which, as it will make a pretty pamphlet of itself,\nwe shall reserve for some future opportunity. When this was ended they\nset forward to survey the gaol and the prisoners, with the several\ncases of whom Mr. Robinson, who had been some time under confinement,\nundertook to make Mr. Booth acquainted.\n\n\n\n\nChapter iv.\n\n_Disclosing further secrets of the prison-house._\n\n\nThe first persons whom they passed by were three men in fetters, who\nwere enjoying themselves very merrily over a bottle", "hire, which amounted\nto two shillings, according to the bailiff's account; that being just\ndouble the legal fare. He was then asked if he did not chuse a bowl of\npunch? to which he having answered in the negative, the bailiff replied,\n\"Nay, sir, just as you please. I don't ask you to drink, if you don't\nchuse it; but certainly you know the custom; the house is full of\nprisoners, and I can't afford gentlemen a room to themselves for\nnothing.\"\n\nBo", "in this town, where you\nlost a trifling sum at cards to a fellow-prisoner?\"\n\nThis hint sufficiently awakened Booth's memory, and he now recollected\nthe features of his old friend Robinson. He answered him a little\nsurlily, \"I know you now very well, but I did not imagine you would ever\nhave reminded me of that transaction.\"\n\n\"Alas, sir!\" answered Robinson, \"whatever happened then was very\ntrifling compared to the injuries I have done you; but if my life be\nspared long enough I", "That, as it was very well known he durst fight, he should not\ndraw his sword on this occasion; for sure,\" says he, \"my lord, it would\nbe the highest imprudence in me to kill a man who is now become so\nconsiderably my debtor.\" At which words he fetched a person from the\ncloset, who had been confined with him, telling him he had done his\nbusiness, and might now, if he pleased, retire.\n\nIt would be tedious here to amuse the reader with all that passed on the\npresent occasion; the", "husband, having always at her tongue's\nend that excellent proverb of \"Safe bind, safe find\"), Robinson, looking\nstedfastly upon Booth, said, \"I believe, sir, you scarce remember me.\"\n\nBooth answered that he thought he had seen his face somewhere before,\nbut could not then recollect when or where.\n\n\"Indeed, sir,\" answered the man, \"it was a place which no man can\nremember with pleasure. But do you not remember, a few weeks ago, that\nyou had the misfortune to be in a certain prison", "and this I do firmly believe,\nwith him and with the Stoics, is superior to all the attacks of\nfortune.\"\n\nHe was proceeding when the bailiff came in, and in a surly tone bad\nthem both good-morrow; after which he asked the philosopher if he was\nprepared to go to Newgate; for that he must carry him thither that\nafternoon.\n\nThe poor man seemed very much shocked with this news. \"I hope,\" cries\nhe, \"you will give a little longer time, if not till the return of the\nwrit", "elia we must detain our reader a little longer\nwith Mr. Booth, in the custody of Mr. Bondum the bailiff, who now\ninformed his prisoner that he was welcome to the liberty of the house\nwith the other gentlemen.\n\nBooth asked who those gentlemen were. \"One of them, sir,\" says Mr.\nBondum, \"is a very great writer or author, as they call him; he hath\nbeen here these five weeks at the suit of a bookseller for eleven pound\nodd money; but he expects to be discharged in a day", "assistance, and resolved to make himself as easy as\npossible under his present circumstances.\n\nCould his own thoughts indeed have suffered him a moment to forget where\nhe was, the dispositions of the other prisoners might have induced him\nto believe that he had been in a happier place: for much the greater\npart of his fellow-sufferers, instead of wailing and repining at their\ncondition, were laughing, singing, and diverting themselves with various\nkinds of sports and gambols.\n\nThe first person who accosted him was called Blear-eyed Moll, a woman", "then called aloud from the\ntop of the stairs, \"Let my coachman draw up,\" and strutted off without\nany ceremony, telling his patient he would call again the next day.\n\nAt this very instant arrived Murphy with the other bail, and, finding\nBooth alone, he asked the bailiff at the door what was become of the\ndoctor? \"Why, the doctor,\" answered he, \"is above-stairs, praying\nwith-----.\" \"How!\" cries Murphy. \"How came you not to carry him directly\nto Newgate, as you promised me?\" \"Why", "oth that,\nhaving heard there was a person in the prison who knew her by the name\nof Matthews, she had great curiosity to inquire who he was, whereupon he\nhad been shewn to her from the window of the house; that she immediately\nrecollected him, and, being informed of his distressful situation, for\nwhich she expressed great concern, she had sent him that guinea which\nhe had received the day before; and then proceeded to excuse herself\nfor not having desired to see him at that time, when she was under the\ngreatest disorder and", "\nin reality envied every labourer whom he saw pass by him in his way. The\ncharms of liberty, against his will, rushed on his mind; and he could\nnot avoid suggesting to himself how much more happy was the poorest\nwretch who, without controul, could repair to his homely habitation\nand to his family, compared to him, who was thus violently, and yet\nlawfully, torn away from the company of his wife and children. And their\ncondition, especially that of his Amelia, gave his heart many a severe\nand bitter pang.\n\n", "was become\nvery uneasy, and break my prison; but Fortune contrived to release me\nsooner, by the following means: The house where I now was had been left\nin the care of one maid-servant. This faithful creature came into the\nhall with the footman who had driven the cart. A scene of the highest\nfondness having past between them, the fellow proposed, and the maid\nconsented, to open the hamper and drink a bottle together, which,\nthey agreed, their mistress would hardly miss in such a quantity. They\npresently began to execute", "rived in the prison than a number of persons gathered round him, all\ndemanding garnish; to which Mr. Booth not making a ready answer, as\nindeed he did not understand the word, some were going to lay hold of\nhim, when a person of apparent dignity came up and insisted that no one\nshould affront the gentleman. This person then, who was no less than the\nmaster or keeper of the prison, turning towards Mr. Booth, acquainted\nhim that it was the custom of the place for every prisoner upon his\nfirst arrival there to give something to the", "t know what;\nbut this I know, that several gentlemen have lived here a long time\nvery comfortably, and have defied all the vengeance of their creditors.\nHowever, in the mean time, you must be a close prisoner with your lady;\nand I believe there is no man in England but would exchange his liberty\nfor the same gaol.\"\n\nShe then departed in order to send for the attorney, and presently\nafterwards the serjeant arrived with news of the like kind. He said he\nhad scraped an acquaintance with Murphy. \"I hope" ], [ "at an end.\"\n\nBooth now uttered the most extravagant expressions of admiration and\nfondness that his heart could dictate, and accompanied them with the\nwarmest embraces. All which warmth and tenderness she returned; and\ntears of love and joy gushed from both their eyes. So ravished indeed\nwere their hearts, that for some time they both forgot the dreadful\nsituation of their affairs.\n\nThis, however, was but a short reverie. It soon recurred to Amelia,\nthat, though she had the liberty of leaving that", "In which Mr. Booth concludes his story._\n\n\n\"The next day the doctor set out for his parsonage, which was about\nthirty miles distant, whither Amelia and myself accompanied him, and\nwhere we stayed with him all the time of his residence there, being\nalmost three months.\n\n\"The situation of the parish under my good friend's care is very\npleasant. It is placed among meadows, washed by a clear trout-stream,\nand flanked on both sides with downs. His house, indeed, would not much\nattract the", "retire to her own bed,\nbut found it utterly impossible to succeed; she thanked Heaven she\nunderstood breeding better than that. And so well bred was the good\nwoman, that we could scarce get her out of the room the whole night.\nLuckily for us, we both understood French, by means of which we\nconsulted together, even in her presence, upon the measures we were to\ntake in our present exigency. At length it was resolved that I should\nsend a letter by this young lad, whom I have just before mentioned, to\nour worthy friend the", "Booth and his wife, the moment their companion was gone, sat down to\nsupper on a piece of cold meat, the remains of their dinner. After\nwhich, over a pint of wine, they entertained themselves for a while with\nthe ridiculous behaviour of their visitant. But Amelia, declaring she\nrather saw her as the object of pity than anger, turned the discourse\nto pleasanter topics. The little actions of their children, the former\nscenes and future prospects of their life, furnished them with many\npleasant ideas; and the contemplation of Amelia's", "never think those men wise who,\nfor any worldly interest, forego the greatest happiness of their lives.\nIf I mistake not,' says he, 'a country life, where you could be always\ntogether, would make you both much happier people.'\n\n\"I answered, that of all things I preferred it most; and I believed\nAmelia was of the same opinion.\n\n\"The doctor, after a little hesitation, proposed to me to turn farmer,\nand offered to let me his parsonage, which was then become vacant. He\nsaid it was a farm which", "\n\nWe will now look back to some personages who, though not the principal\ncharacters in this history, have yet made too considerable a figure in\nit to be abruptly dropt: and these are Colonel James and his lady.\n\nThis fond couple never met till dinner the day after the masquerade,\nwhen they happened to be alone together in an antechamber before the\narrival of the rest of the company.\n\nThe conversation began with the colonel's saying, \"I hope, madam, you\ngot no cold last night at the masquerade.\" To which the", "so. If the business, therefore, hath\nended without doing anything to the purpose, it was Fortune's pleasure,\nand neither of our faults.\"\n\nBooth heartily embraced the colonel, and assured him of the great\nsatisfaction he had received from the surgeon's opinion; and soon after\nthe two combatants took their leave of each other. The colonel, after he\nwas drest, went in a chair to his lodgings, and Booth walked on foot to\nhis; where he luckily arrived without meeting any of Mr. Murphy's", "with him. After which they sat\ndown with their little children to a scrag of mutton and broth, with the\nhighest satisfaction, and very heartily drank his lordship's health in a\npot of porter.\n\nIn the afternoon this happy couple, if the reader will allow me to call\npoor people happy, drank tea with Mrs. Ellison, where his lordship's\npraises, being again repeated by both the husband and wife, were very\nloudly echoed by Mrs. Ellison. While they were here, the young lady whom\nwe", "to those points in which\nwe presume our reader was chiefly interested, in the foregoing chapter,\nwe shall in this, by way of epilogue, endeavour to satisfy his curiosity\nas to what hath since happened to the principal personages of whom we\nhave treated in the foregoing pages.\n\nColonel James and his lady, after living in a polite manner for many\nyears together, at last agreed to live in as polite a manner asunder.\nThe colonel hath kept Miss Matthews ever since, and is at length\ngrown to doat on her", "him he would remember him as long as he stayed in the regiment.\n\nThus ended this trifling adventure, which some readers will, perhaps,\nbe pleased at seeing related at full length. None, I think, can\nfail drawing one observation from it, namely, how capable the most\ninsignificant accident is of disturbing human happiness, and of\nproducing the most unexpected and dreadful events. A reflexion which may\nserve to many moral and religious uses.\n\nThis accident produced the first acquaintance between the mistress of\nthe house and her lodgers; for", "oured lady in this poor place.'\n\n\"For my own part, no human being was then an object of envy to me, and\neven Amelia seemed to be in pretty good spirits; she softly whispered to\nme that she perceived there might be happiness in a cottage.\"\n\n\"A cottage!\" cries Miss Matthews, sighing, \"a cottage, with the man one\nloves, is a palace.\"\n\n\"When supper was ended,\" continued Booth, \"the good woman began to think\nof our further wants, and very earnestly recommended her bed to us,\nsay", "then,\" said the doctor, \"that there should\nbe one fool at least in every married couple. A mighty resolution,\ntruly! and well worth your valuing yourself upon, to part with your wife\nfor a few months in order to make the fortune of her and your children;\nwhen you are to leave her, too, in the care and protection of a friend\nthat gives credit to the old stories of friendship, and doth an honour\nto human nature. What, in the name of goodness! do either of you think\nthat you have made an union to endure for ever? How will", "affair, are in the hands of an\nold Parson called Doctor Harrison.'\"\n\n\"And is this really true?\" cries Amelia.\n\n\"Yes, really and sincerely,\" cries the doctor. \"The whole estate;\nfor your mother left it you all, and is as surely yours as if you was\nalready in possession.\"\n\n\"Gracious Heaven!\" cries she, falling on her knees, \"I thank you!\" And\nthen starting up, she ran to her husband, and, embracing him, cried, \"My\ndear love, I wish you joy;", "Booth immediately ran up-stairs to his Amelia; between\nwhom I shall not attempt to describe the meeting. Nothing certainly was\never more tender or more joyful. This, however, I will observe, that a\nvery few of these exquisite moments, of which the best minds only are\ncapable, do in reality over-balance the longest enjoyments which can\never fall to the lot of the worst.\n\nWhilst Booth and his wife were feasting their souls with the most\ndelicious mutual endearments, the doctor was fallen to play with the two\nlittle children", "passed a miserable and sleepless night, her gentle mind torn and\ndistracted with various and contending passions, distressed with doubts,\nand wandering in a kind of twilight which presented her only objects of\ndifferent degrees of horror, and where black despair closed at a small\ndistance the gloomy prospect.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XII.\n\n\n\nChapter i.\n\n_The book begins with polite history._\n\n\nBefore we return to the miserable couple, whom we left at the end of the\nlast book, we will give our reader the more che", "then, having received his fee, departed; and, turning the\nkey, left the gentleman and the lady to themselves.\n\nIn imitation of him we will lock up likewise a scene which we do not\nthink proper to expose to the eyes of the public. If any over-curious\nreaders should be disappointed on this occasion, we will recommend such\nreaders to the apologies with which certain gay ladies have lately been\npleased to oblige the world, where they will possibly find everything\nrecorded that past at this interval.\n\nBut, though we decline painting the scene, it", "eldest of\nthose girls, whose name is Amelia, is his favourite; she is the picture\nof her mother, and it is thought the doctor hath distinguished her in\nhis will, for he hath declared that he will leave his whole fortune,\nexcept some few charities, among Amelia's children.\n\nAs to Booth and Amelia, Fortune seems to have made them large amends\nfor the tricks she played them in their youth. They have, ever since the\nabove period of this history, enjoyed an uninterrupted course of health\nand happiness. In about", "justice\narrived to take her up, the messenger of which returned with the news\nof her flight, highly to the satisfaction of Amelia, and consequently of\nBooth, and, indeed, not greatly to the grief of the doctor.\n\nAbout a week afterwards Booth and Amelia, with their children, and\nCaptain Atkinson and his lady, all set forward together for Amelia's\nhouse, where they arrived amidst the acclamations of all the neighbours,\nand every public demonstration of joy.\n\nThey found the house ready prepared to receive them by At", "own, determined to\nquit the parish; but when he attempted to get an exchange, he found it\na matter of more difficulty than he had apprehended; for the rector's\ntemper was so well known among the neighbouring clergy, that none of\nthem could be brought to think of spending three months in a year with\nhim.\n\n\"After many fruitless enquiries, Mr. Bennet thought best to remove to\nLondon, the great mart of all affairs, ecclesiastical and civil. This\nproject greatly pleased him, and he resolved, without", "\"Go with thee, thou wretch!\" cries she, looking with the utmost disdain\nupon him; \"no, nor ever speak to thee more.\" At which words she burst\nout of the room, and the serjeant, without saying a word, followed her.\n\nA very tender and pathetic scene now passed between Booth and his wife,\nin which, when she was a little composed, she related to him the whole\nstory. For, besides that it was not possible for her otherwise to\naccount for the quarrel which he had seen, Booth was" ], [ "the house, and deposited in the\nentry, where I had not lain long before I was again removed and packed\nup in a cart in order to be sent five miles into the country; for I\nheard the orders given as I lay in the entry; and there I likewise heard\nthat Amelia and her mother were to follow me the next morning.\n\n\"I was unloaded from my cart, and set down with the rest of the lumber\nin a great hall. Here I remained above three hours, impatiently waiting\nfor the evening, when I determined to quit a posture which", "In which Mr. Booth concludes his story._\n\n\n\"The next day the doctor set out for his parsonage, which was about\nthirty miles distant, whither Amelia and myself accompanied him, and\nwhere we stayed with him all the time of his residence there, being\nalmost three months.\n\n\"The situation of the parish under my good friend's care is very\npleasant. It is placed among meadows, washed by a clear trout-stream,\nand flanked on both sides with downs. His house, indeed, would not much\nattract the", "us (so she imagined) along the road\nleading to the town; but that being very dirty, and a violent storm of\nrain coming, she took shelter in an alehouse about half a mile from her\nown house, whither she sent for her coach; she then drove, together with\nher daughter, to town, where, soon after her arrival, she sent for the\ndoctor, her usual privy counsellor in all her affairs. They sat up all\nnight together, the doctor endeavouring, by arguments and persuasions,\nto bring Mrs. Harris to reason;", "\nshe knew very well where she was; and, a little farther striking into\nanother lane to the right, she said that would lead us to a house where\nwe should be both safe and unsuspected. I followed her directions, and\nwe at length came to a little cottage about three miles distant from\nMrs. Harris's house.\n\n\"As it now rained very violently, we entered this cottage, in which we\nespied a light, without any ceremony. Here we found an elderly woman\nsitting by herself at a little fire, who had no sooner viewed us than\n", "w you what sort of foundations most\nstories have.\"\n\nBooth told her he had heard some such thing himself, and then continued\nhis story as in the next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nChapter vi.\n\n_Containing many surprising adventures._\n\n\n\"There,\" continued he, \"I remained the whole day in hopes of a\nhappiness, the expected approach of which gave me such a delight that I\nwould not have exchanged my poor lodgings for the finest palace in the\nuniverse.\n\n\"A little after it was dark Mrs. Harris arrived", "body, that I found was a mere bugbear; but all the rest was\nliterally true. I sent immediately for the same gentleman that I\nrecommended to Mr. Booth, left the care of burying the corpse to him,\nand brought my friend and her little boy immediately away to my own\nhouse, where she remained some months in the most miserable condition.\nI then prevailed with her to retire into the country, and procured her\na lodging with a friend at St Edmundsbury, the air and gaiety of which\nplace by degrees recovered her; and she", "him he would remember him as long as he stayed in the regiment.\n\nThus ended this trifling adventure, which some readers will, perhaps,\nbe pleased at seeing related at full length. None, I think, can\nfail drawing one observation from it, namely, how capable the most\ninsignificant accident is of disturbing human happiness, and of\nproducing the most unexpected and dreadful events. A reflexion which may\nserve to many moral and religious uses.\n\nThis accident produced the first acquaintance between the mistress of\nthe house and her lodgers; for", "errand. The\ncompany now all broke up, and attended my father, all endeavouring to\ngive him hopes that no mischief had happened. They searched the whole\nparish, but in vain; they could neither see my mother, nor hear any news\nof her. My father returned home in a state little short of distraction.\nHis friends in vain attempted to administer either advice or comfort; he\nthrew himself on the floor in the most bitter agonies of despair.\n\n\"Whilst he lay in this condition, my sister and myself lying by him, all\nequ", "this amiable office he had been engaged near an\nhour, and was at that very time lying along on the floor, and his little\nthings crawling and playing about him, when a most violent knock\nwas heard at the door; and immediately a footman, running upstairs,\nacquainted him that his lady was taken violently ill, and carried into\nMrs. Chenevix's toy-shop.\n\nBooth no sooner heard this account, which was delivered with great\nappearance of haste and earnestness, than he leapt suddenly from the\nfloor, and,", "\nmatter to take him, for that to his knowledge he was as shy a cock as\nany in England. The subaltern immediately acquainted Trent with the\nbusiness in which he was employed by the colonel; upon which Trent\nenjoined him the moment he had set him to give immediate notice to the\nbailiff, which he agreed to, and performed accordingly.\n\nThe bailiff, on receiving the notice, immediately set out for his stand\nat an alehouse within three doors of Miss Matthews's lodgings; at which,\nunfortunately for poor Booth,", "oured lady in this poor place.'\n\n\"For my own part, no human being was then an object of envy to me, and\neven Amelia seemed to be in pretty good spirits; she softly whispered to\nme that she perceived there might be happiness in a cottage.\"\n\n\"A cottage!\" cries Miss Matthews, sighing, \"a cottage, with the man one\nloves, is a palace.\"\n\n\"When supper was ended,\" continued Booth, \"the good woman began to think\nof our further wants, and very earnestly recommended her bed to us,\nsay", "murder; but do you\nknow the cause, Mr. Booth? Have you since your return to England visited\nthat country where we formerly knew one another? tell me, do you know my\nwretched story? tell me that, my friend.\"\n\nBooth hesitated for an answer; indeed, he had heard some imperfect\nstories, not much to her advantage. She waited not till he had formed\na speech; but cried, \"Whatever you may have heard, you cannot be\nacquainted with all the strange accidents which have occasioned your\nseeing me in a place which at", ", having waited above an hour for her husband, concluded, as he\nwas the most punctual man alive, that he had met with some engagement\nabroad, and sat down to her meal with her children; which, as it was\nalways uncomfortable in the absence of her husband, was very short;\nso that, before his return, all the apparatus of dining was entirely\nremoved.\n\nBooth sat some time with his wife, expecting every minute when the\nlittle maid would make her appearance; at last, curiosity, I believe,\nrather than appetite, made him ask how long it was", "our last parting was so unlikely that I\nshould ever have been found in; nor can you know the cause of all that\nI have uttered, and which, I am convinced, you never expected to have\nheard from my mouth. If these circumstances raise your curiosity, I will\nsatisfy it.\"\n\nHe answered, that curiosity was too mean a word to express his ardent\ndesire of knowing her story. Upon which, with very little previous\nceremony, she began to relate what is written in the following chapter.\n\nBut before we put an end to this it may be", "began\nto replace all things in their order; and little Emily hugging her watch\nwith great fondness, declared she would never part with it any more.\n\nThus ended this odd adventure, not entirely to the satisfaction of\nBooth; for, besides his curiosity, which, when thoroughly roused, is a\nvery troublesome passion, he had, as is I believe usual with all persons\nin his circumstances, several doubts and apprehensions of he knew not\nwhat. Indeed, fear is never more uneasy than when it doth not certainly\nknow its object; for on such occasions", "spirits, and\nhad now almost regained his former degree of chearfulness, when the\nfollowing letter arrived, again to torment him:\n\n\n\"DEAR BILLY,\n\n\"To convince you I am the most reasonable of women, I have given you up\nthree whole days to the unmolested possession of my fortunate rival; I\ncan refrain no longer from letting you know that I lodge in Dean Street,\nnot far from the church, at the sign of the Pelican and Trumpet, where I\nexpect this evening to see you.\n\n\"Believe me", "I then acquainted them with\nmy purpose of lying concealed in the house, in order to watch an\nopportunity of obtaining a private interview with Amelia.\n\n[Illustration: They opened The Hamper]\n\n\"In the situation in which these two delinquents stood, you may be\nassured it was not difficult for me to seal up their lips. In short,\nthey agreed to whatever I proposed. I lay that evening in my dear\nAmelia's bedchamber, and was in the morning conveyed into an old\nlumber-garret, where I", "which he was lately recovered.\n\n\"I have said so much,\" continued Booth, \"of the boy's character, that\nyou may not be surprised at some stories which I shall tell you of him\nhereafter.\n\n\"I am going now, madam, to relate to you one of those strange accidents\nwhich are produced by such a train of circumstances, that mere chance\nhath been thought incapable of bringing them together; and which have\ntherefore given birth, in superstitious minds, to Fortune, and to\nseveral other imaginary beings.\n\n\"We", ", had half cried her eyes\nout; for, though the girl had opened the door to them, as it was\nalmost dark, she had not taken any notice of this phenomenon in her\ncountenance.\n\nThe girl now fell down upon her knees and cried, \"For Heaven's sake,\nmadam, do not be angry with me. Indeed, I was left alone in the house;\nand, hearing somebody knock at the door, I opened it--I am sure thinking\nno harm. I did not know but it might have been you, or my master, or\nMadam Ell", "comes to, you must take the consequence.--But for my\npart, I know I would not trust Robinson with twopence untold.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" cries Booth; \"who is Robinson?\"\n\n\"And you don't know Robinson?\" answered the keeper with great emotion.\nTo which Booth replying in the negative, the keeper, after some tokens\nof amazement, cried out, \"Well, captain, I must say you are the best at\nit of all the gentlemen I ever saw. However, I will tell you this: the\nlaw" ] ]

[ "After getting married, where do Amelia and William go?", "How did Amelia's nose get ruined?", "How does William respond to Amelia's ruined nose?", "How to Amelia respond to the other men while William is away?", "How does William get into debt?", "Where is William sent?", "From whom does Amelia receive a a large amount of money?", "After receiving the money, what does Amelia spend it on?", "Where do Amelia and William finally go?", "Where does the story take place?", "Who does Amelia marry?", "What is Captain William Booth's job?", "What does Amelia injure in the carriage accident?", "Who seduces William?", "What does William think about Amelia after her accident?", "What does Amelia do during William's absence?", "How does Amelia react to William's cheating?", "How does William try to get them out of poverty?", "What finally gets Amelia and William out of debt?", "Where did Amelia and Captain William Booth run away to?", "Who seduces William while he is imprisoned?", "Why was William sent to debtors' prison?", "Why did William's gambling debts get so high?", "Why was William released from debtors' prison?", "How did Amelia break her nose?", "What part of the military was Captain William Booth in?", "Where was William originally imprisoned?", "Where did the couple retire in the end?", "Where does the story take place?" ]

[ [ "London", "London" ], [ "She was in a carriage accident.", "carriage accident" ], [ "He refuses to see her as anything but beautiful.", "He still thinks she is beautiful." ], [ "She refuses their attention and stays faithful to William.", "She resists the attentions of other men." ], [ "He gambles while trying to make money?", "gambling" ], [ "He gets sent to debtors' prison.", "To debtors' prison." ], [ "Her mother", "Her mothers estate." ], [ "Getting William out of debt", "her husbands debt" ], [ "They retire to the country.", "london" ], [ "London", "london" ], [ "Captain William Booth", "Captain William Booth" ], [ "Army Officer", "army officer" ], [ "Her nose", "her nose" ], [ "Miss Matthews", "miss matthews" ], [ "William still finds her beautiful.", "she's still beautiful" ], [ "Amelia stays faithful", "She is in a carriage accident." ], [ "Amelia forgives her husband.", "she forgives him" ], [ "William gambles to try and earn them money.", "By gambling." ], [ "Amelia being her mother's heiress gets them out of debt.", "amelias inheritance" ], [ "London.", "london" ], [ "Miss Matthews.", "Miss Mathews." ], [ "He had gambling debts.", "Because he accrued a gambling debt trying to lift him and his wife out of poverty." ], [ "He was trying to get the family out of poverty.", "because he is trying to beat poverty" ], [ "Amelia paid the debt with her inheritance. ", "Because Amelia settled the debt with her inheritance." ], [ "She was in a carriage accident.", "A carriage accident." ], [ "Army.", "The army." ], [ "Newgate", "He is originally imprisoned in Newgate." ], [ "The country.", "The country." ], [ "London", "london" ] ]

[ [ ", she whispered to Kate, \"Keep the house from going to pieces, an\nye can;\" and donned her best kirtle and hood, and her scarlet clocked\nhose and her new shoes, and trudged briskly off to Sevenbergen,\ntroubling no man's mule.\n\nWhen she got there she inquired where Margaret Brandt lived. The first\nperson she asked shook his head, and said--\"The name is strange to me.\"\nShe went a little farther and asked a girl of about fifteen who was\nstanding at a door. \"", "years, by all accounts.\"\n\n\"What, gone without bidding me farewell?\" said Margaret, uplifting two\ntender eyes like full-blown violets.\n\nCatherine reddened. For this new view of the matter set her conscience\npricking her.\n\nBut she gave a little toss and said, \"Oh, you were asleep at the time:\nand I would not have you wakened.\"\n\n\"Poor Denys,\" said Margaret, and the dew gathered visibly on the open\nviolets.\n\nCatherine saw out of the corner", "am beholden to thee,\" said Margaret hastily, and almost snatched\nit from Martin, and wrapped it up again, and restored it to its\nhiding-place.\n\nEre these unexpected funds were spent, she got to her ironing and\nstarching again. In the midst of which Martin sickened; and died after\nan illness of nine days.\n\nNearly all her money went to bury him decently.\n\nHe was gone; and there was an empty chair by her fireside, For he had\npreferred the hearth to the sun as soon", "o' doors the first, at such an a time.\"\n\nNeed I say that this was a great comfort to Margaret.\n\nPoor soul, she was full of anxiety as the time drew near.\n\nShe should die; and Gerard away.\n\nBut things balance themselves. Her poverty, and her father's\nhelplessness, which had cost her such a struggle, stood her in good\nstead now.\n\nAdversity's iron hand had forced her to battle the lassitude that\noverpowers the rich of her sex, and to be for ever on her feet,", "He borrowed a good horse, and scarce drew rein till he reached\nDeventer, quite late in the afternoon. He went at once to the school.\nThe boy had been taken away.\n\nAs he left the school he caught sight of Margaret's face at the window\nof a neighbouring house she always lodged at when she came to Deventer.\n\nHe ran hastily to scold her and pack both her and the boy out of the\nplace.\n\nTo his surprise the servant told him with some hesitation that Margaret\nhad been there, but was gone.\n\n", "\nbroken, and Gerard being applied to to make it look neater, and being\nshort of materials, had ingeniously sawed away a space sufficient just\nto admit Margaret's soi-disant bed, and with the materials thus acquired\nhe had repaired the whole room. As for the bed or chest, it really\nrested on the rafters a foot below the boards. Consequently it was full\ntwo feet deep, though it looked scarce one.\n\nAll was quiet. Margaret kneeled and gave thanks to Heaven. Then she\nglided from the door and leaned over", "nor far, as one.\"\n\n\"That is sense,\" said Catherine. But she insisted on his going first to\nthe demoiselle Van Eyck. \"She and our Margaret were bosom friends. She\nknows where the girl is gone, if she will but tell us.\" Denys was for\ngoing to her that instant, so Catherine, in a turn of the hand, made\nherself one shade neater, and took him with her.\n\nShe was received graciously by the old lady sitting in a richly\nfurnished room; and opened her business. The tap", ", that is all over. Poor\nsoul! trouble behind her and trouble afore her; and to think of my\nsetting her, of all living women, to read Gerard's letter to me. Ay, and\nthat was what made her go off, I'll be sworn. She is coming to. What,\nsweetheart! be not afeard, none are here but friends.\"\n\nThey seated her in an easy chair. As the colour was creeping back to her\nface and lips. Catherine drew Margaret Van Eyck aside.\n\n\"Is she staying with you", "brecht declined, and said what he had done was a cordial to him,\n\"Man seeth but a little way before him, neighbour. This land I clung\nso to it was a bed of nettles to me all the time. 'Tis gone; and I feel\nhappier and livelier like for the loss on't.\"\n\nHe called his men, and they lifted him into the litter.\n\nWhen he was gone Catherine gloated over the money. She had never seen\nso much together, and was almost angry with Margaret, for \"sitting out\nthere", "both, and\nsank at her father's knees, and begged his pardon, with many sobs for\nhaving doubted his tenderness.\n\nHe raised her in his arms, and took her, radiant through her tears with\njoy, and returning life, and filial love, to his breast; and the pair\npassed a truly sacred moment, and the dignitary was as happy as he\nthought to be miserable; so hard is it for mortals to foresee. And they\nlooked round for Margaret, but she had stolen away softly.\n\nThe young girl", "gou, and she declined, and came; and\nthere they strolled up and down, hand in hand; and when he must go, they\npledged each other never to quarrel or misunderstand one another again;\nand they sealed the promise with a long loving kiss, and Gerard went\nhome on wings.\n\nFrom that day Gerard spent most of his evenings with Margaret, and the\nattachment deepened and deepened on both sides, till the hours they\nspent together were the hours they lived; the rest they counted and\nunderwent. And at the outset of this", "most as good, and behoves her pray for his soul. One thing, she is not\nso poor now as she was; and never fell riches to a better hand; and she\nis only come into her own for that matter, so she can pay the priest to\nsay masses for him, and that is a great comfort.\"\n\nIn the midst of their gossip, Margaret, in whose ears it was all\nbuzzing, though she seemed lost in thought, got softly up, and crept\naway with her eyes on the ground, and her brows bent.\n\n\"She hath forgotten", "that look now made her quiver from head to foot.\n\nFor that look was \"RECOGNITION.\"\n\nThe sermon, after wavering some time, ended in a strain of exalted,\nnay, feverish eloquence, that went far to make the crowd forget the\npreacher's strange pause and ghastly glare. Margaret mingled hastily\nwith the crowd, and went out of the church with them.\n\nThey went their ways home. But she turned at the door, and went into the\nchurchyard; to Peter", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", ", if you please?\"\n\n\"No, madam.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't let her go back to Sevenbergen to-night, then.\"\n\n\"That is as she pleases. She still refuses to bide the night.\"\n\n\"Ay, but you are older than she is; you can make her. There, she is\nbeginning to notice.\"\n\nCatherine then put her mouth to Margaret Van Eyck's ear for half a\nmoment; it did not seem time enough to whisper a word, far less a\nsentence. But on some topics", ".\"\n\n\"Bless thee, Giles,\" murmured Margaret softly.\n\n\"Thou wast ever his stanch friend, dear Giles,\" said little Kate; \"but\nalack, I know not what thou canst do for him now.\"\n\nGiles had left them, and all was sad and silent again, when a\nwell-dressed man opened the door softly, and asked was Margaret Brandt\nhere.\n\n\"D'ye hear, lass? You are wanted,\" said Catherine briskly. In her the\nGossip was indestructible.\n\n", "\n\n\"Can I tell why and wherefore, being a woman? All I know is I seem--to\nfeel--to wish--to come alone.\"\n\n\"So be it then. I leave thee the cart, being, as thou sayest, a woman,\nand I'll go a-foot, being a man again, with the joyful tidings of thy\ncoming.\"\n\nWhen Margaret reached the manse the first thing she saw was the two\nGerards together, the son performing his capriccios on the plot, and the\nfather slouching on a", "Margaret went sorrowfully to the pretty manse to see it for the\nlast time, ere it should pass for ever into stranger's hands.\n\n\"I think he would have been happy here,\" she said, and turned heart-sick\naway.\n\nOn their return, Reicht Heynes proposed to her to go and consult the\nhermit.\n\n\"What,\" said Margaret, \"Joan has been at you. She is the one for\nhermits. I'll go, if 'tis but to show thee they know no more than we\ndo.\" And", "the waves in her heart and smooth them. So she\nleaned against the pillar with eyes half closed, and all seemed soft and\ndreamy.\n\nShe felt it good to be there.\n\nPresently she saw a lady leave an excellent place opposite to get out of\nthe sun, which was indeed pouring on her head from the window. Margaret\nwent round softly but swiftly; and was fortunate enough to get the\nplace. She was now beside a pillar of the south aisle, and not above\nfifty feet from the preacher. She was at his side, a", ". He repeated\nit, and reminded Margaret that the gold pieces were only given him to go\nto Italy with. The journey was clearly for Gerard's interest. He was a\ncraftsman and an artist, lost in this boorish place. In Italy they would\nknow how to value him. On this ground above all the unselfish girl gave\nher consent; but many tender tears came with it, and at that Gerard,\nyoung and loving as herself, cried bitterly with her, and often they\nasked one another what they had done, that so many different persons\nshould" ], [ "falsehood!\n\nYet the tellers reaped little from it.\n\nThe brothers, who invented it merely to have one claimant the less for\ntheir father's property, saw little Gerard take their brother's place\nin their mother's heart. Nay, more, one day Eli openly proclaimed that,\nGerard being lost, and probably dead, he had provided by will for little\nGerard, and also for Margaret, his poor son's widow.\n\nAt this the look that passed between the black sheep was a caution to\ntraitors.", "Cornelis had it on his lips to say. Gerard was most likely\nalive, But he saw his mother looking at him, and checked himself in\ntime.\n\nGhysbrecht Van Swieten, the other partner in that lie, was now a failing\nman. He saw the period fast approaching when all his wealth would drop\nfrom his body, and his misdeeds cling to his soul.\n\nToo intelligent to deceive himself entirely, he had never been free\nfrom gusts of remorse. In taking Gerard's letter to Margaret he had\ncompound", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "\"Oh, yes, Gerard,\" cried Margaret wildly. \"Fly on the instant. Ah! those\nparchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?\"\n\n\"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so. No matter: the old\ncaitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden\nhis treasure where he shall never find it.\" Gerard then, after thanking\nGiles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate\nhe was gone. \"", ". \"Oh, that man! that man!\"\n\n\"Nay, fear me not,\" said Ghysbrecht; \"I come on a friend's errand. I\nbring ye a letter from foreign parts.\"\n\n\"Mock me not, old man,\" and she turned slowly round.\n\n\"Nay, see;\" and he held out an enormous letter.\n\nMargaret darted on it, and held it with trembling hands and glistening\neyes. It was Gerard's handwriting.\n\n\"Oh, thank you, sir, bless you for", "\n\nGerard hung his head.\n\n\"We take him to Rotterdam to abide the sentence of the Duke.\"\n\nAt this Margaret uttered a cry of despair, and the young creatures, who\nwere so happy a moment ago, fell to sobbing in one another's arms so\npiteously, that the instruments of oppression drew back a step and were\nashamed; but one of them that was good-natured stepped up under pretence\nof separating them, and whispered to Margaret:\n\n\"Rotterdam? it is a lie. We but take him", "Gerard?\" cried she, her bosom heaving. \"Is he alive?\"\n\n\"For aught I know,\" stammered Ghysbrecht. \"I hope so, for your sake.\nPrithee come into this room. The servants!\"\n\n\"Not a step,\" said Margaret, and she took him by the shoulder, and held\nhim with all the energy of an excited woman. \"You know the secret of\nthat which is breaking my heart. Why does not my Gerard come, nor send\na line this many months? Answer me, or all the town is like to", "d'ye think of that,\ndame?\" cried Gerard, with a grating laugh. \"There is a pretty letter to\nsend to a poor fellow so far from home. But it is Reicht Heynes I blame\nfor humouring the old woman and letting her do it; as for the old woman\nherself, she dotes, she has lost her head, she is fourscore. Oh, my\nheart, I'm choking. For all that she ought to be locked up, or her hands\ntied. Say this had come to a fool; say I was", "\n\"Nay, burgomaster, nay! not for all the world!\" cried Sybrandt; \"Gerard\nwould not believe it, or but half, and then he would come back to see.\nNo; say that she is dead.\"\n\n\"Dead! what, at her age, will he credit that?\"\n\n\"Sooner than the other. Why she was nearly dead: so it is not to say a\ndownright lie, after all.\"\n\n\"Humph! And you think that will keep him in Italy?\"\n\n\"We are sure of it", "in the power of these two rogues\nto tarnish your name? Finally, his strong persuasion that Gerard was\nin possession of a secret by means of which he could wound him to the\nquick, coupled with his caution, found words thus: \"It is my duty to\naid the citizens that cannot write. But for their matter I will not be\nresponsible. Tell me, then, what I shall write.\"\n\n\"Something about this Margaret.\"\n\n\"Ay, ay! that she is false, that she is married to another, I'll go\nbail.\"\n", "gone as soon as they\nwere uttered.\n\n\"The Church!\" cried Gerard, rising furiously, and shaking his fist after\nthe friar. \"Malediction on the Church! But for the Church I should\nnot lie broken here, and she lie cold, cold, cold, in Holland. Oh, my\nMargaret! oh, my darling! my darling! And I must run from thee the few\nmonths thou hadst to live. Cruel! cruel! The monsters, they let her die.\nDeath comes not without some signs. These the", ",\" cried Margaret vehemently; \"I am sorry I sent for\nyou. Would you rob me of the only bit of comfort I have in the world?\nA-nursing my Gerard, I forget I am the most unhappy creature beneath the\nsun.\"\n\n\"That you do not,\" was the retort, \"or he would not be the way he is.\"\n\n\"Mother!\" said Margaret imploringly.\n\n\"'Tis hard,\" replied Catherine, relenting. \"But bethink thee; would it\nnot be harder to look down and see his", ", why, then say nought, but let them think me dead. Obey me in\nthis; for, if thou dost disrespect my judgment and my will in this, thou\nlovest me not.'\"\n\nThere was a silence, and Gerard's words copied by Margaret here handed\nround and inspected.\n\n\"Well,\" said Catherine, \"that is another matter. But methinks 'tis for\nher to come to us, not we to her.\"\n\n\"Alas, mother! what odds does that make?\"\n\n\"Much,\" said Eli. \"Tell her", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "Gerard. \"I will read this.\"\n\n\"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now,\" cried Margaret. \"Every moment you lose\nfills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall,\nand the clouds lower.\"\n\nGerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom,\nand threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down. While thus\nemployed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant\nthunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and", "\"What does that mean? Ah!\"\n\n\"'To my sister Kate. Little angel of my father's house. Be kind to\nher--' Ah!\"\n\n\"That is Margaret Brandt, my dear--his sweetheart, poor soul. I've not\nbeen kind to her, my dear. Forgive me, Gerard!\"\n\n\"'--for poor Gerard's sake: since grief to her is death to me--Ah!\"\nAnd nature, resenting the poor girl's struggle for unnatural composure,\nsuddenly gave way, and she sank", "Gerard's\nreward,\" and she brought a letter out of her capacious pocket.\n\nGerard threw his arm round her neck and hugged her.\n\n\"My best friend,\" said he, \"my second mother, I'll read it to you.\n\n\"Ay, do, do.\"\n\n\"Alas! it is not from Margaret. This is not her hand.\" And he turned it\nabout.\n\n\"Alack; but maybe her bill is within. The lasses are aye for gliding in\ntheir bills under cover of another hand.\"", "you have time to coin falsehood: we know thee.\"\n\nGhysbrecht turned pale at this affront, and spite mingled with the other\nmotives that brought him here. \"Thus it is, then,\" said he, grinding his\nteeth and speaking very fast. \"Your son Gerard is more like to be father\nof a family than a priest: he is for ever with Margaret, Peter Brandt's\nred-haired girl, and loves her like a cow her calf.\"\n\nMother and daughter both burst out laughing. Ghysbrecht", "Sybrandt boldly.\n\n\"Good. And now what would ye of me?\" said Ghysbrecht, with beating\nheart, but a carelessness so well feigned that it staggered them. They\nfumbled with their bonnets, and stammered and spoke a word or two, then\nhesitated and beat about the bush, and let out by degrees that they\nwanted a letter written, to say something that might keep Gerard in\nItaly; and this letter they proposed to substitute in Hans Memling's\nwallet for the one he carried. While these fumbled with", "\n\n\"True. Whose hand is this? sure I have seen it. I trow 'tis my dear\nfriend the demoiselle Van Eyck. Oh, then Margaret's bill will be\ninside.\" He tore it open. \"Nay, 'tis all in one writing. 'Gerard, my\nwell beloved son' (she never called me that before that I mind), 'this\nletter brings thee heavy news from one would liever send thee joyful\ntidings. Know that Margaret Brandt died in these arms on Thursday\nsennight last" ], [ "suicide during the first\ntwenty-four hours of the solitary cell. This is doubtless why our Jairi\nabstain so carefully from the impertinence of watching their little\nexperiment upon the human soul at that particular stage of it.\n\nAs the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank; with the waning\nlight even the embers of hope went out. He was faint, too, with hunger;\nfor he was afraid to eat the food Ghysbrecht had brought him; and hunger\nalone cows men. He sat upon the chest, his", "\n\nHis old landlady who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the stair, heard\nthe raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.\n\nShe found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.\n\nShe remonstrated.\n\n\"What avails my lying here?\" said he gloomily. \"Can I find here that\nwhich I seek?\"\n\n\"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?\"\n\n\"Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so", "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", "bade him farewell. \"Day breaks,\" said he; \"I must\nprepare for matins.\"\n\n\"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?\"\n\n\"By the hand of Heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed it on you\nagain. Think on it! Hast tried the world and found its gall. Now try the\nChurch! The Church is peace. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nHe was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till weak and\nwearied he fell into a doze", "\nwith tears in his eyes the Cause of Gerard's illness, all his contempt\nrevived. \"Dying for a woman?\"\n\nHe determined to avert this scandal; he visited Clement twice a day\nin his cell, and tried all his old influence and all his eloquence to\ninduce him to shake off this unspiritual despondency, and not rob the\nchurch of his piety and his eloquence at so critical a period.\n\nGerard heard him, approved his reasoning, admired his strength,\nconfessed his own", ".\n\n\"Ah, thou wouldst sleep,\" said the miscreant eagerly. \"I go.\" And he\nretired on tip-toe with a promise to come every day.\n\nGerard lay with his eyes closed: not asleep, but deeply pondering.\n\nSaved from death, by an assassin\n\nWas not this the finger of Heaven?\n\nOf that Heaven he had insulted, cursed, and defied.\n\nHe shuddered at his blasphemies. He tried to pray.\n\nHe found he could utter prayers. But he", "company. Yet\nit was his daily company.\n\nHe hung over the boat in moody silence.\n\nAnd from that hour another phase of his misery began; and grew upon him.\n\nSome wretched fools try to drown care in drink.\n\nThe fumes of intoxication vanish; the inevitable care remains, and must\nbe faced at last--with an aching head, disordered stomach, and spirits\nartificially depressed.\n\nGerard's conduct had been of a piece with these maniacs'. To survive\nhis terrible blow he needed all", "told her this unexpected trait in her Gerard. He\ncontinued, \"And even with that he bade me farewell.\n\n\"'My work here is done now,' said he. I had not the heart to stay him;\nfor let him forgive me ever so, the sight of me must be wormwood to\nhim. He left me in peace, and may a dying man's blessing wait on him, go\nwhere he will. Oh, girl, when I think of his wrongs, and thine, and how\nhe hath avenged himself by saving this stained soul of", "\nhis face to the wall.\n\nHis good landlady wept at this. She had known what it is to awake\nbereaved.\n\nFra Jerome recited canticles, and prayers from his breviary.\n\nGerard rolled himself in the bed-clothes.\n\nFra Colonna went to him, and whimpering, reminded him that all was not\nlost. The divine Muses were immortal. He must transfer his affection to\nthem; they would never betray him nor fail him like creatures of clay.\nThe good, simple father then", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "Gerard, for answer, flung his arms round Denys's neck in silence.\n\n\"Look here,\" whined the stout soldier, affected by this little gush of\nnature and youth, \"was ever aught so like a woman? I love thee, little\nmilksop--go to. Good! behold him on his knees now. What new caprice is\nthis?\"\n\n\"Oh, Denys, ought we not to return thanks to Him who has saved both our\nlives against such fearful odds?\" And Gerard kneeled, and prayed al", ", softened by\nsaving the life he was paid to take, turned from the stiletto to the\nporter's knot. The princess went barefoot to Loretto, weeping her crime\nand washing the feet of base-born men.\n\nAnd Gerard, carried from the Tiber into that convent a suicide, now\npassed for a young saint within its walls.\n\nLoving but experienced eyes were on him.\n\nUpon a shorter probation than usual he was admitted to priest's orders.\n\nAnd soon after took the monastic vows, and became", "faltered at this a moment. But soon, by a strong effort,\nhe recovered all his calmness.\n\n\"His feeble nature yielded, body and soul, to the blow, He was stricken\ndown with fever. He revived only to rebel against Heaven. He said,\n'There is no God.'\"\n\n\"Poor, poor Gerard!\"\n\n\"Poor Gerard? thou feeble, foolish woman! Nay, wicked, impious Gerard.\nHe plunged into vice, and soiled his eternal jewel: those you met\nhim with were his", "spot an event had just occurred, which, take it\naltogether, was perhaps without a parallel in the history of mankind,\nand may remain so to the end of time.\n\nBut it shall be told in a very few words, partly by me, partly by an\nactor in the scene.\n\nGerard, then, after writing his brief adieu to Pietro and Andrea, had\nstolen down to the river at nightfall.\n\nHe had taken his measures with a dogged resolution not uncommon in those\nwho are bent on self-destruction. He filled his pockets with", "and insolence.\nFarewell.\" He went. He came. He roared, \"And think not to be buried in\nany Christian church-yard; for the bailiff is my good friend, and I\nshall tell him how and why you died: felo de se! felo de se! Farewell.\"\n\nGerard sprang to his feet on the bed by some supernatural gymnastic\npower excitement lent him, and seeing him so moved, the vindictive\norator came back at him fiercer than ever, to launch some master-threat\nthe", ".\n\nThe good father had only reached the convent the night before last.\nGerard recognized him in a moment, and cried to him, \"Oh, Father Anselm,\nyou cured my wounded body in Juliers: now cure my hurt soul in Rome!\nAlas, you cannot.\"\n\nAnselm sat down by the bedside, and putting a gentle hand on his head,\nfirst calmed him with a soothing word or two.\n\nHe then (for he had learned how Gerard came there) spoke to him kindly\nbut solemnly, and made", "him feel his crime, and urged him to repentance,\nand gratitude to that Divine Power which had thwarted his will to save\nhis soul.\n\n\"Come, my son,\" said he, \"first purge thy bosom of its load.\"\n\n\"Ah, father,\" said Gerard, \"in Juliers I could; then I was innocent but\nnow, impious monster that I am, I dare not confess to you.\"\n\n\"Why not, my son? Thinkest thou I have not sinned against Heaven in my\ntime, and deeply? oh, how deeply!", "Gerard, yielding.\n\n\"I'll cheer you, mon gars.\"\n\n\"I think you would,\" said Gerard sweetly; \"and sore need have I of a\nkindly voice in mine ear this day.\"\n\n\"Oh! no soul is sad alongside me. I lift up their poor little hearts\nwith my consigne: 'Courage, tout le monde, le diable est mort.' Ha! ha!\"\n\n\"So be it, then,\" said Gerard. \"But take back your belt, for I could\nnever trust by halves. We will go", "thee.\" He then related in full how he had been arrested, and by\nwhat a providential circumstance he had escaped long imprisonment or\nspeedy conflagration.\n\nHis narrative produced an effect he little expected or desired.\n\n\"I am a traitor,\" cried Denys. \"I left thee in a strange place to fight\nthine own battles, while I shook the dice with those jades. Now take\nthou this sword and pass it through my body forthwith.\"\n\n\"What for in Heaven's name?\" inquired Gerard.\n\n\"For", "Hush!\" said she; \"my mother knows not. Gerard has left Tergou.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"I saw him last night.\"\n\n\"Ay! Where?\" cried Dierich eagerly.\n\n\"At the foot of the haunted tower.\"\n\n\"How did he get the rope?\"\n\n\"I know not; but this I know; my brother Gerard bade me there farewell,\nand he is many leagues from Tergou ere this. The town, you know, was\nalways unworthy of him, and when it imprisoned him" ], [ "and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, to\nhealth and beauty, by swift gradations; to see the roses return to the\nloved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye, and his words to the loved\nmouth--this was Margaret's--a joy to balance years of sorrow. It\nwas Gerard's to awake from a trance, and find his head pillowed on\nMargaret's arm; to hear the woman he adored murmur new words of eloquent\nlove, and shower tears and tender kisses and ca", "Denys came close to him, and peered in his\nface, and devoured every feature; and when he was sure it was really\nGerard, he uttered a cry so vehement it brought the women running from\nthe house, and fell upon Gerard's neck, and kissed him again and again,\nand sank on his knees, and laughed and sobbed with joy so terribly,\nthat Gerard mourned his folly in doing dramas. But the women with their\ngentle soothing ways soon composed the brave fellow, and he sat smiling,\nand holding Margaret", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "Gerard?\" cried she, her bosom heaving. \"Is he alive?\"\n\n\"For aught I know,\" stammered Ghysbrecht. \"I hope so, for your sake.\nPrithee come into this room. The servants!\"\n\n\"Not a step,\" said Margaret, and she took him by the shoulder, and held\nhim with all the energy of an excited woman. \"You know the secret of\nthat which is breaking my heart. Why does not my Gerard come, nor send\na line this many months? Answer me, or all the town is like to", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", ". \"Oh, that man! that man!\"\n\n\"Nay, fear me not,\" said Ghysbrecht; \"I come on a friend's errand. I\nbring ye a letter from foreign parts.\"\n\n\"Mock me not, old man,\" and she turned slowly round.\n\n\"Nay, see;\" and he held out an enormous letter.\n\nMargaret darted on it, and held it with trembling hands and glistening\neyes. It was Gerard's handwriting.\n\n\"Oh, thank you, sir, bless you for", "sleep. They opened\nhis cupboards, they ran their knives into an alligator he had nailed to\nhis wall; they looked under his bed: it was a large room, and apparently\nfull of hiding-places, but they found no Gerard.\n\nThen they went on to Margaret's room, and the very sight of it was\ndiscouraging--it was small and bare, and not a cupboard in it; there\nwas, however, a large fireplace and chimney. Dierich's eye fell on these\ndirectly. Here they found the beauty of", "\nMargaret had left her bed some days, and was sitting pale and pensive\nby the fireside, when he burst in, waving the parchment, and crying, \"A\nfree pardon, girl, for Gerard as well as me! Send for him back when you\nwill; all the burgomasters on earth daren't lay a finger on him.\"\n\nShe flushed all over with joy and her hands trembled with eagerness\nas she took the parchment and devoured it with her eyes, and kissed it\nagain and again, and flung", "s, seemed now to be clearing; he had intervals of intelligence; and\nthen he and Margaret used to talk of Gerard, till he wandered again. But\none day, returning after an absence of some hours, Margaret found\nhim conversing with Catherine, in a way he had never done since his\nparalytic stroke. \"Eh, girl, why must you be out?\" said she. \"But\nindeed I have told him all; and we have been a-crying together over thy\ntroubles.\"\n\nMargaret stood silent, looking joyfully from one to the", "Gerard. \"I will read this.\"\n\n\"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now,\" cried Margaret. \"Every moment you lose\nfills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall,\nand the clouds lower.\"\n\nGerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom,\nand threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down. While thus\nemployed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant\nthunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and", ", or you'll drive his breath back again. Let him alone: he is\nsure to come to. 'Tisn't like as if he was an old man.\"\n\nGerard sighed deeply, and a faint streak of colour stole to his lips.\nJorian made for the door. He had hardly reached it, when he found his\nlegs seized from behind.\n\nIt was Margaret! She curled round his knees like a serpent, and kissed\nhis hand, and fawned on him. \"You won't tell? You have saved his life;\nyou", "\n\n\"Girl, as I stand here, he asked me whereabout you were buried in this\nchurchyard.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"I told him, nowhere, thank Heaven: you were alive and saving other folk\nfrom the churchyard.\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"Well, the long and the short is, he knew thy Gerard in Italy; and a\nletter came saying you were dead; and it broke thy poor lad's heart. Let\nme see; who was the letter written by? Oh, by the demoiselle van\nEyck. That was", "the woman you knew her;\nher children's troubles have greatly broken the brisk, light-hearted\nsoul. And I see she has been weeping e'en now; she will have given thee\nup, being so late.\"\n\n\"Let me get to her,\" said Clement hastily, trembling all over.\n\n\"That door! I will bide here.\"\n\nWhen Gerard was gone to the door, Margaret, fearing the sudden surprise,\ngave one sharp tap at the window and cried, \"Mother!\" in a loud,\nexpressive voice", "see thyself.\"\n\n\"Nay, 'twas a female, and one that seeks thy regard; 'twas Catherine,\nGerard's mother.\"\n\n\"Oh, was it?\" said Margaret; \"then you may tell her she comes too late.\nThere was a time I longed and longed for her; but she held aloof in my\nhour of most need, so now we will be as we ha' been.\"\n\nDenys tried to shake this resolution. He coaxed her, but she was bitter\nand sullen, and not to be co", "moment-all-was-dark. I had--ah!\"\n\nCatherine. \"Here, help! water! Stand aloof, you that be men!\"\n\nMargaret had fainted away.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIV\n\nWhen she recovered, her head was on Catherine's arm, and the honest half\nof the family she had invaded like a foe stood round her uttering rough\nhomely words of encouragement, especially Giles, who roared at her that\nshe was not to take on like that. \"Gerard was alive and well, or", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "\"Oh, yes, Gerard,\" cried Margaret wildly. \"Fly on the instant. Ah! those\nparchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?\"\n\n\"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so. No matter: the old\ncaitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden\nhis treasure where he shall never find it.\" Gerard then, after thanking\nGiles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate\nhe was gone. \"", "Cornelis had it on his lips to say. Gerard was most likely\nalive, But he saw his mother looking at him, and checked himself in\ntime.\n\nGhysbrecht Van Swieten, the other partner in that lie, was now a failing\nman. He saw the period fast approaching when all his wealth would drop\nfrom his body, and his misdeeds cling to his soul.\n\nToo intelligent to deceive himself entirely, he had never been free\nfrom gusts of remorse. In taking Gerard's letter to Margaret he had\ncompound", "Oh! oh! oh!\"\n\n\"This is strange! But the fiery-headed thing? Yet it was with you, and\nyou are harmless! But why are you here at this time of night?\"\n\n\"Nay, why are YOU?\"\n\n\"Perhaps we are on the same errand? Ah! you are his good sister, Kate!\"\n\n\"And you are Margaret Brandt.\"\n\n\"Yes.\n\n\"All the better. You love him; you are here. Then Giles was right. He\nhas won free.\"\n\nGerard came forward,", "poor women agonies of mind, alarm, and\nirritated curiosity. Ghysbrecht was for some cause Gerard's mortal\nenemy; had stopped his marriage, imprisoned him, hunted him. And here\nwas his late servant, who when off his guard had hinted that this enemy\nhad the clue to Gerard's silence. After sifting Jorian's every word and\nlook, all remained dark and mysterious. Then Catherine told Margaret to\ngo herself to him. \"You are young, you are fair. You will maybe get more\nout of him than" ], [ "He borrowed a good horse, and scarce drew rein till he reached\nDeventer, quite late in the afternoon. He went at once to the school.\nThe boy had been taken away.\n\nAs he left the school he caught sight of Margaret's face at the window\nof a neighbouring house she always lodged at when she came to Deventer.\n\nHe ran hastily to scold her and pack both her and the boy out of the\nplace.\n\nTo his surprise the servant told him with some hesitation that Margaret\nhad been there, but was gone.\n\n", "Margaret, I am\nashamed of you.\"\n\n\"You are a cruel, hard-hearted woman,\" sobbed Margaret.\n\n\"Them as take in hand to guide the weak need be hardish. And you will\nexcuse me; but you are not my flesh and blood; and your boy is.\"\n\nAfter giving this blunt speech time to sink, she added, \"Come now, she\nis robbing her own to save yours, and you can think of nothing better\nthan bursting out a-blubbering in the woman's face. Out fie,", "the woman you knew her;\nher children's troubles have greatly broken the brisk, light-hearted\nsoul. And I see she has been weeping e'en now; she will have given thee\nup, being so late.\"\n\n\"Let me get to her,\" said Clement hastily, trembling all over.\n\n\"That door! I will bide here.\"\n\nWhen Gerard was gone to the door, Margaret, fearing the sudden surprise,\ngave one sharp tap at the window and cried, \"Mother!\" in a loud,\nexpressive voice", "But oh, my mistresses, what thin cheeks for a young man,\nand great eyes, not far from your colour, Margaret.\"\n\n\"I have a great mind to go hear him,\" said Margaret. \"But my cap is not\nvery clean, and they will all be there in their snow-white mutches.\"\n\n\"There, take my handkerchief out of the basket,\" said Catherine; \"you\ncannot have the child, I want him for my poor Kate. It is one of her ill\ndays.\"\n\nMargaret replied by taking the boy upstairs. She found", "not, but prithee go forward, and get me what is my own, my\nsole joy in the world. Thou knowest I am on thorns till I have him to my\nbosom again.\"\n\nReicht went forward; Margaret sat by the roadside and covered her face\nwith her apron, and rocked herself after the manner of her country, for\nher soul was full of bitterness and grief. So severe, indeed, was the\ninternal conflict, that she did not hear Reicht running back to her, and\nstarted violently when the young woman", ",\" cried Margaret vehemently; \"I am sorry I sent for\nyou. Would you rob me of the only bit of comfort I have in the world?\nA-nursing my Gerard, I forget I am the most unhappy creature beneath the\nsun.\"\n\n\"That you do not,\" was the retort, \"or he would not be the way he is.\"\n\n\"Mother!\" said Margaret imploringly.\n\n\"'Tis hard,\" replied Catherine, relenting. \"But bethink thee; would it\nnot be harder to look down and see his", "his mind inside out, what there was of it.\n\nMargaret met her at the door, pale and agitated, and threw her arms\nround her neck, and looked imploringly in her face.\n\n\"Come, he is alive, thank God,\" said Catherine, after scanning her\neagerly.\n\nShe looked at the failing child, and then at the poor hollow-eyed\nmother, alternately, \"Lucky you sent for me,\" said she, \"The child is\npoisoned.\"\n\n\"Poisoned! by whom?\"\n\n\"By you.", "\"Make thy mind easy,\" said Margaret. \"Heaven will never rob me of my\nchild. What I was to suffer in this world I have suffered, For if any\nill happened my child or thee, I should not live a week. The Lord He\nknows this, and He will leave me my boy.\"\n\nA month had elapsed after this; but Margaret's words were yet ringing in\nhis ears, when, going on his daily round of visits to his poor, he was\ntold quite incidentally, and as mere gossip, that the plague was at\nD", "seem so hard he should not share my\njoy. Prithee, prithee, come to me, Gerard! dear, dear Gerard!\" And she\nstretched out her feeble arms.\n\nCatherine hustled about, but avoided Margaret's eyes; for she could not\nrestrain her own tears at hearing her own absent child thus earnestly\naddressed.\n\nPresently, turning round, she found Margaret looking at her with a\nsingular expression. \"Heard you nought?\"\n\n\"No, my lamb. What?\"\n\n\"I", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", "ly up, livid with fury and despair, and rushed\nheadlong from the place with both hands clenched and raised on high.\nSo terrible was this inarticulate burst of fury, that Jorian's puny ire\ndied out at sight of it, and he stood looking dismayed after the human\ntempest he had launched.\n\nWhile thus absorbed he felt his arm grasped by a small, tremulous hand.\n\nIt was Margaret Brandt.\n\nHe started; her coming there just then seemed so strange. She had waited\nlong on Peter", "son of Eli!\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"Oh, woe is me that I have this to tell thee, sweet Margaret! bethink\nthee thou hast thy boy to live for yet.\"\n\n\"Let me get home,\" said Margaret faintly.\n\nPassing down the Brede Kirk Straet they saw Joan at the door. Reicht\nsaid to her, \"Eh, woman, she has been to your hermit, and heard no good\nnews.\"\n\n\"Come in,\" said Joan, eager for a gossip.\n\nMargaret would not go", "child, I must go: they are all at sixes and sevens:\nthis is the third time of asking; and to-morrow my man would come\nhimself and take me home by the ear, with a flea in't.\" She then\nrecapitulated her experiences of infants, and instructed Margaret what\nto do in each coming emergency, and pressed money upon her, Margaret\ndeclined it with thanks, Catherine insisted, and turned angry. Margaret\nmade excuses all so reasonable that Catherine rejected them with calm\ncontempt; to her mind they lacked femininity,\n", "as the Busy Body was gone.\n\nMargaret would not allow anybody to sit in this chair now. Yet whenever\nshe let her eye dwell too long on it vacant, it was sure to cost her a\ntear.\n\nAnd now there was nobody to carry her linen home, To do it herself she\nmust leave little Gerard in charge of a neighbour, But she dared not\ntrust such a treasure to mortal; and besides she could not bear him out\nof her sight for hours and hours. So she set inquiries on foot for a boy\nto carry her", "last time Margaret returned from visiting him, she came to Gerard\nflushed with pride. \"Oh, Gerard, he will be a great man one day, thanks\nto thy wisdom in taking him from us silly women. A great scholar, one\nZinthius, came to see the school and judge the scholars, and didn't our\nGerard stand up, and not a line in Horace or Terence could Zinthius cite\nbut the boy would follow him with the rest. 'Why, 'tis a prodigy,' says\nthat great scholar; and there was his poor", "aves, the effect is curious on a girl who loves him\nsincerely. It makes her pity him. This, to some of us males, seems\nanything but logical. The fault is in our own eye; the logic is too\nswift for us. The girl argues thus:--\"How unhappy, how vexed, how poor\nhe must be to misbehave! Poor thing!\"\n\nMargaret was full of this sweet womanly pity, when, to her great\nsurprise, scarce an hour and a half after he left her, Gerard came\nrunning back", "both, and\nsank at her father's knees, and begged his pardon, with many sobs for\nhaving doubted his tenderness.\n\nHe raised her in his arms, and took her, radiant through her tears with\njoy, and returning life, and filial love, to his breast; and the pair\npassed a truly sacred moment, and the dignitary was as happy as he\nthought to be miserable; so hard is it for mortals to foresee. And they\nlooked round for Margaret, but she had stolen away softly.\n\nThe young girl", "he is a priest, and can do no better. But you are not a priest.\nHe has got his parish, and his heart is in that. Bethink thee! Time\nflies; overstay not thy market. Wouldst not like to have three or four\nmore little darlings about thy knee now they have robbed thee of poor\nlittle Gerard, and sent him to yon nasty school?\" And so she worked upon\na mind already irritated.\n\nMargaret had many suitors ready to marry her at a word or even a\nlook, and among", "that look now made her quiver from head to foot.\n\nFor that look was \"RECOGNITION.\"\n\nThe sermon, after wavering some time, ended in a strain of exalted,\nnay, feverish eloquence, that went far to make the crowd forget the\npreacher's strange pause and ghastly glare. Margaret mingled hastily\nwith the crowd, and went out of the church with them.\n\nThey went their ways home. But she turned at the door, and went into the\nchurchyard; to Peter", "There,\" said Margaret, trying to affect regret at his misbehaviour; \"he\nloves me too well.\"\n\nBut Catherine was a match for them both. As she came along she had\nobserved a healthy young woman, sitting outside her own door, with an\ninfant, hard by. She went and told her the case; and would she nurse the\npining child for the nonce, till she had matters ready to wean him?\n\nThe young woman consented with a smile, and popped her child into the\ncradle, and came into Margaret's house. She" ], [ ",\" cried Margaret vehemently; \"I am sorry I sent for\nyou. Would you rob me of the only bit of comfort I have in the world?\nA-nursing my Gerard, I forget I am the most unhappy creature beneath the\nsun.\"\n\n\"That you do not,\" was the retort, \"or he would not be the way he is.\"\n\n\"Mother!\" said Margaret imploringly.\n\n\"'Tis hard,\" replied Catherine, relenting. \"But bethink thee; would it\nnot be harder to look down and see his", "seem so hard he should not share my\njoy. Prithee, prithee, come to me, Gerard! dear, dear Gerard!\" And she\nstretched out her feeble arms.\n\nCatherine hustled about, but avoided Margaret's eyes; for she could not\nrestrain her own tears at hearing her own absent child thus earnestly\naddressed.\n\nPresently, turning round, she found Margaret looking at her with a\nsingular expression. \"Heard you nought?\"\n\n\"No, my lamb. What?\"\n\n\"I", ".\n\n\"Oh, mother! whom should I mean? Why, Gerard's Margaret.\"\n\n\"Gerard's Margaret,\" screamed Catherine; \"how dare you say such a word\nto me? And I rede you never mention that hussy's name in this house,\nthat she has laid bare. She is the ruin of my poor boy, the flower of\nall my flock. She is the cause that he is not a holy priest in the midst\nof us, but is roaming the world, and I a desolate broken-hearted mother.\nThere, do not", ". Ah! here comes the\nyoung fool.\"\n\nCatherine trembled, and held her husband's hand tight.\n\nThe moon was bright, but they were in the shadow of some trees, and\ntheir son did not see them. He came singing in the moonlight, and his\nface shining.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nWhile the burgomaster was exposing Gerard at Tergou, Margaret had a\ntrouble of her own at Sevenbergen. It was a housewife's distress, but\ndeeper than we can well conceive.", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "is our heir; poor Gerard, whom you have banished and\ndone your best to kill; after that never call me mother again! But you\nhave made him tenfold dearer to me. My poor lost boy! I shall soon see\nhim again shall hold him in my arms, and set him on my knees. Ay, you\nmay stare! You are too crafty, and yet not crafty enow. You cut the\nstalk away; but you left the seed--the seed that shall outgrow you, and\noutlive you. Margaret Brandt is quick, and it is Ger", "! oh! oh! oh\noh! oh!\"\n\n\"Ah! well, one comfort, he is not dead. This gives me light: some other\nwoman has got him away from me; like father, like son; oh! oh! oh! oh!\noh!\"\n\nCatherine was sorry for her, and let her cry in peace. And after that,\nwhen she wanted Joan's aid, she used to take Gerard out, to give him\na little fresh air. Margaret never objected; nor expressed the least\nincredulity; but on their return was always in tears", "did cry on Gerard, but now.\"\n\n\"Ay, ay, sure I heard that.\"\n\n\"Well, he answered me.\"\n\n\"Tush, girl: say not that.\"\n\n\"Mother, as sure as I lie here, with his boy by my side, his voice came\nback to me, 'Margaret!' So. Yet methought 'twas not his happy voice. But\nthat might be the distance. All voices go off sad like at a distance.\nWhy art not happy, sweetheart? and I so happy this night? Mother, I seem\n", "ynes in the\nkitchen alone, Then she tapped softly at the window and said, \"Reicht,\nfor pity's sake bring him out to me unbeknown.\" With Margaret the person\nwho occupied her thoughts at the time ceased to have a name, and sank to\na pronoun.\n\nReicht soon found an excuse for taking little Gerard out, and there was\na scene of mutual rapture, followed by mutual tears when mother and boy\nparted again.\n\nAnd it was arranged that Reicht should take him half way to Rotterdam\nevery day, at", "ard, she is all to thee that I am to this sweet\nchild. Ah, I think so much more of mothers since I had my little Gerard.\nShe suffered for thee, and nursed thee, and tended thee from boy to man.\nPriest monk, hermit, call thyself what thou wilt, to her thou art but\none thing; her child.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" murmured Gerard, in a quavering voice.\n\n\"At Gouda manse, wearing the night in prayer and care.\"\n\nThen Margaret", "whom speak you, dear\nMargaret?\"\n\n\"Nay, then, we shall quarrel, Gerard.\"\n\n\"Methinks I see Margaret and Gerard quarrelling! Why, it takes two to\nquarrel, and we are but one.\"\n\nWith this Gerard smiled on her sweetly. But there was no kind responsive\nglance. She looked cold, gloomy, and troubled.\n\nHe sighed, and sat patiently down opposite her with his face all puzzled\nand saddened. He said nothing, for he felt sure she would explain", "see thyself.\"\n\n\"Nay, 'twas a female, and one that seeks thy regard; 'twas Catherine,\nGerard's mother.\"\n\n\"Oh, was it?\" said Margaret; \"then you may tell her she comes too late.\nThere was a time I longed and longed for her; but she held aloof in my\nhour of most need, so now we will be as we ha' been.\"\n\nDenys tried to shake this resolution. He coaxed her, but she was bitter\nand sullen, and not to be co", "the woman you knew her;\nher children's troubles have greatly broken the brisk, light-hearted\nsoul. And I see she has been weeping e'en now; she will have given thee\nup, being so late.\"\n\n\"Let me get to her,\" said Clement hastily, trembling all over.\n\n\"That door! I will bide here.\"\n\nWhen Gerard was gone to the door, Margaret, fearing the sudden surprise,\ngave one sharp tap at the window and cried, \"Mother!\" in a loud,\nexpressive voice", "Gerard, he just looked in their\nfaces and said, \"What does it matter? Break him of swearing, and you\nshall have my thanks.\"\n\nThis year Margaret went to a lawyer to make her will, for without this,\nshe was told, her boy might have trouble some day to get his own, not\nbeing born in lawful wedlock. The lawyer, however, in conversation,\nexpressed a different opinion.\n\n\"This is the babble of churchmen,\" said he, \"Yours is a perfect\nmarriage, though an irregular one.\"\n\nHe then", "en Gerard, and lay\nthe first stone at least of a reconciliation.\n\nIt was some time before she could make the porter understand whom she\nwas seeking. Eventually she learned he had left late last night, and was\nnot expected back, She went sighing with the news to Margaret. She found\nher sitting idle, like one with whom life had lost its savour; she had\nher boy clasped so tight in her arms, as if he was all she had left, and\nshe feared some one would take him too. Catherine begged her to come to\nthe Hoog Straet", "retiring footsteps till they ceased.\nThen she sank moaning down by the cradle, and drew little Gerard tight\nto her bosom. \"Oh, my poor fatherless boy; my fatherless boy!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXXVII\n\nNot long after this, as the little family at Tergou sat at dinner, Luke\nPeterson burst in on them, covered with dust. \"Good people, Mistress\nCatherine is wanted instantly at Rotterdam.\"\n\n\"My name is Catherine, young man. Kate, it will be Margaret.\"\n\n\"", "Denys came close to him, and peered in his\nface, and devoured every feature; and when he was sure it was really\nGerard, he uttered a cry so vehement it brought the women running from\nthe house, and fell upon Gerard's neck, and kissed him again and again,\nand sank on his knees, and laughed and sobbed with joy so terribly,\nthat Gerard mourned his folly in doing dramas. But the women with their\ngentle soothing ways soon composed the brave fellow, and he sat smiling,\nand holding Margaret", "a cave all by himself.\"\n\n\"In de dark?\"\n\n\"Ay, whiles.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nIn the morning Reicht was sent to the hermit with the pelisse, and a\npound of thick candles.\n\nAs she was going out of the door Margaret said to her, \"Said you whose\nson Gerard was?\"\n\n\"Nay, not I.\"\n\n\"Think, girl! How could he call him Gerard, son of Eli, if you had not\ntold him?\"\n\nReicht persisted she had never", "\n\n\"Ay! but it shall, Gerardo,\" said the princess eagerly. \"I will not be\nso curst. Tell me now where abides thy Margaret; and I will give thee a\npresent for her; and on that you and I will be friends.\"\n\n\"She is a daughter of a physician called Peter, and they bide at\nSevenbergen; ah me, shall I e'er see it again?\"\n\n\"'Tis well. Now go.\" And she dismissed him somewhat abruptly.\n\nPoor Gerard. He began to wade in deep", "is too heavy for me.\"\n\n\"Then give him me, and take thou these. Alas! alas! I mind when thou\nwouldst have run with the child on one shoulder, and the mother on\nt'other.\"\n\nAnd Margaret carried the boy.\n\n\"I trow,\" said Gerard, looking down, \"overmuch fasting is not good for a\nman.\"\n\n\"A many die of it each year, winter time,\" replied Margaret.\n\nGerard pondered these simple words, and eyed her askant, carrying the\nchild with" ], [ "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "ice?\nour son! My cares are at an end. Eli, my good friend and master, now we\ntwo can die happy whenever our time comes. This dear boy will take our\nplace, and none of these loved ones will want a home or a friend.\"\n\nFrom that hour Gerard was looked upon as the stay of the family. He\nwas a son apart, but in another sense. He was always in the right, and\nnothing too good for him. Cornelis and Sybrandt became more and more\njealous of him, and longed for the day he should go to", "poor deserted child, you and I are\nwading in deep waters.\"\n\nShe applied at least half this modest, but useful supply, to dressing\nthe little Gerard beyond his station in life. \"If it does come from\nGerard, he shall see his boy neat.\" All the mothers in the street began\nto sneer, especially such as had brats out at elbows.\n\nThe months rolled on, and dead sickness of heart succeeded to these\nkeener torments. She returned to her first thought: \"Gerard must be\ndead. She should never see her", "is our heir; poor Gerard, whom you have banished and\ndone your best to kill; after that never call me mother again! But you\nhave made him tenfold dearer to me. My poor lost boy! I shall soon see\nhim again shall hold him in my arms, and set him on my knees. Ay, you\nmay stare! You are too crafty, and yet not crafty enow. You cut the\nstalk away; but you left the seed--the seed that shall outgrow you, and\noutlive you. Margaret Brandt is quick, and it is Ger", ", thou wert like me no one was left\nthat loved thee, when Gerard was gone.\"\n\nHe went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long and\nearnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not find.\n\nComing out of the church he saw a very old man looking over the little\nchurchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him did he live in the\nplace.\n\n\"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here every day\nof late, holy father, to take", "other.\n\nPeter smiled on her, and said, \"Come, let me bless thee.\"\n\nShe kneeled at his feet, and he blessed her most eloquently.\n\nHe told her she had been all her life the lovingest, truest, and most\nobedient daughter Heaven ever sent to a poor old widowed man. \"May thy\nson be to thee what thou hast been to me!\"\n\nAfter this he dozed. Then the females whispered together; and Catherine\nsaid--\"All our talk e'en now was of Gerard. It lies", "on your business and none of mine.\"\nCatherine and her daughter exchanged a swift glance of contemptuous\nincredulity. They knew the man better than he thought.\n\n\"It is about your son Gerard.\"\n\n\"Ay! ay! you want him to work for the town all for nothing. He told us.\"\n\n\"I come on no such errand. It is to let you know he has fallen into bad\nhands.\"\n\n\"Now Heaven and the saints forbid! Man, torture not a mother! Speak out,\nand quickly: speak ere", "; and call me not a priest, for a priest I will never be. I will\ndie sooner.\"\n\n\"That we shall see, young man. Come, gainsay me no more; you will learn\nwhat 'tis to disrespect a father.\"\n\nGerard held his peace, and the three walked home in gloomy silence,\nbroken only by a deep sigh or two from Catherine.\n\nFrom that hour the little house at Tergou was no longer the abode of\npeace. Gerard was taken to task next day before the whole family; and\nevery voice was", "next boat, or the next\nboat after. And if he chooses to answer to that name--After all, I am\nnot the keeper of his conscience.\"\n\n\"Good father, one plain word, for Heaven's sake, This Gerard Eliassoen\nof Tergou--is he alive?\"\n\n\"Humph! Why, certes, he that went by that name is alive.\"\n\n\"Well, then, that is settled,\" said Luke drily. But the next moment he\nfound it necessary to run out of sight and blubber.\n\n\"Oh, why", "Tiber.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"And the assassin saved his life. Thou hadst chosen for the task\nLodovico, husband of Teresa, whom this Gerard had saved at sea, her and\nher infant child.\"\n\n\"He lives! he lives! he lives! I am faint.\"\n\nThe friar took the crucifix from her hands, fearing it might fall, A\nshower of tears relieved her. The friar gave her time; then continued\ncalmly, \"Ay, he lives; thanks to thee and", "his jerkin as he went.\n\nBut as they hurried along, he asked her what on earth she meant? \"I talk\nof this friar, and you answer me of Gerard.\"\n\n\"Man, see you not, this is Gerard!\"\n\n\"This, Gerard? what mean ye?\"\n\n\"I mean, yon friar is my boy's father. I have waited for him long,\nJorian. Well, he is come to me at last. And thank God for it. Oh, my\npoor child! Quicker, Jorian", "could only say, with an instinct of self-defence,\n\"Pray for the soul of Gerard the son of Eli!\" meaning that he was dead\nto the world. And he sat wondering.\n\nWhen the woman was gone, he determined, after an inward battle, to risk\nbeing seen, and he peeped after her to see who it could be; but he took\nso many precautions, and she ran so quickly back to her friend, that the\nroad was clear.\n\n\"Satan!\" said he directly.\n\nAnd that night back came his visions of", "Catherine's bowels yearned over her, and she said, \"My poor girl,\nyou were not born to live alone. I have got to look on you as my own\ndaughter. Waste not thine youth upon my son Gerard. Either he is dead or\nhe is a traitor. It cuts my heart to say it; but who can help seeing it?\nThy father is gone; and I cannot always be aside thee. And here is\nan honest lad that loves thee well this many a day. I'd take him and\nComfort together. Heaven hath", "! oh! oh! oh\noh! oh!\"\n\n\"Ah! well, one comfort, he is not dead. This gives me light: some other\nwoman has got him away from me; like father, like son; oh! oh! oh! oh!\noh!\"\n\nCatherine was sorry for her, and let her cry in peace. And after that,\nwhen she wanted Joan's aid, she used to take Gerard out, to give him\na little fresh air. Margaret never objected; nor expressed the least\nincredulity; but on their return was always in tears", "and happy as a prince. Some little distance from home,\nunder the shadow of some trees, he encountered two figures: they almost\nbarred his way.\n\nIt was his father and mother.\n\nOut so late! what could be the cause?\n\nA chill fell on him.\n\nHe stopped and looked at them: they stood grim and silent. He stammered\nout some words of inquiry.\n\n\"Why ask?\" said the father; \"you know why we are here.\"\n\n\"Oh, Gerard!\" said his mother, with a voice full of reproach yet", "?\n\n\"Father! I have no father,\" said Gerard sternly. \"He that was my father\nis turned my gaoler. I have escaped from his hands; I will never come\nwithin their reach again.\"\n\n\"An enemy did this, and not our father.\"\n\nAnd she told him what she had overheard Cornelis and Sybrandt say. But\nthe injury was too recent to be soothed. Gerard showed a bitterness of\nindignation he had hitherto seemed incapable of.\n\n\"Cornelis and Sybrand", "told her this unexpected trait in her Gerard. He\ncontinued, \"And even with that he bade me farewell.\n\n\"'My work here is done now,' said he. I had not the heart to stay him;\nfor let him forgive me ever so, the sight of me must be wormwood to\nhim. He left me in peace, and may a dying man's blessing wait on him, go\nwhere he will. Oh, girl, when I think of his wrongs, and thine, and how\nhe hath avenged himself by saving this stained soul of", "ard, she is all to thee that I am to this sweet\nchild. Ah, I think so much more of mothers since I had my little Gerard.\nShe suffered for thee, and nursed thee, and tended thee from boy to man.\nPriest monk, hermit, call thyself what thou wilt, to her thou art but\none thing; her child.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" murmured Gerard, in a quavering voice.\n\n\"At Gouda manse, wearing the night in prayer and care.\"\n\nThen Margaret", "seem so hard he should not share my\njoy. Prithee, prithee, come to me, Gerard! dear, dear Gerard!\" And she\nstretched out her feeble arms.\n\nCatherine hustled about, but avoided Margaret's eyes; for she could not\nrestrain her own tears at hearing her own absent child thus earnestly\naddressed.\n\nPresently, turning round, she found Margaret looking at her with a\nsingular expression. \"Heard you nought?\"\n\n\"No, my lamb. What?\"\n\n\"I", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim" ], [ "fell heavily upon the ground, where he\nlay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.\n\n\"Hist, Martin! Martin!\"\n\nMartin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, \"Now fly!\nfly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved.\"\n\nAt this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,\nMargaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly\nfrom loss of blood.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved, fly!\" she gas", "\"Well, mother,\" said Margaret listlessly, \"and here I am.\"\n\nA shuffling of feet was heard at the door, and a colourless, feeble old\nman was assisted into the room. It was Ghysbrecht Van Swieten. At\nsight of him Catherine shrieked, and threw her apron over her head, and\nMargaret shuddered violently, and turned her head swiftly away, not to\nsee him.\n\nA feeble voice issued from the strange visitor's lips, \"Good people, a\ndying man", "am beholden to thee,\" said Margaret hastily, and almost snatched\nit from Martin, and wrapped it up again, and restored it to its\nhiding-place.\n\nEre these unexpected funds were spent, she got to her ironing and\nstarching again. In the midst of which Martin sickened; and died after\nan illness of nine days.\n\nNearly all her money went to bury him decently.\n\nHe was gone; and there was an empty chair by her fireside, For he had\npreferred the hearth to the sun as soon", "do I\nask? Would I leave thee if thou wert--At least touch me not, and then I\nwill let thee bide, and see the last of poor Margaret. She ne'er spoke\nharsh to thee before, sweetheart, and she never will again.\"\n\n\"Alas! what mean these dark words, these wild and troubled looks?\" said\nGerard, clasping his hands.\n\n\"My poor Gerard,\" said Margaret, \"forgive me that I spoke so to thee. I\nam but a woman, and would have spared", "despondency, only to go\ninto strong hysterics over the wealth that came too late to be shared\nwith him she loved.\n\nA little of this gold, a portion of this land, a year or two ago, when\nit was as much her own as now; and Gerard would have never left her side\nfor Italy or any other place.\n\n\"Too late! Too late!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XCI\n\nNot many days after this came the news that Margaret Van Eyck was dead\nand buried. By a will she had made a year before, she left", "APTER LXXIX\n\nShe who had wept for poor old Martin was not likely to bear this blow so\nstoically as the death of the old is apt to be borne. In vain Catherine\ntried to console her with commonplaces; in vain told her it was a happy\nrelease for him; and that, as he himself had said, the tree was ripe.\nBut her worst failure was, when she urged that there were now but two\nmouths to feed; and one care the less.\n\n\"Such cares are all the joys I have,\" said Margaret. \"They fill", "hell.\"\n\nAnd unnatural force ended in prostration.\n\nHe staggered, and but for Margaret would have fallen, With her one\ndisengaged arm she supported him as well as she could and cried for\nhelp.\n\nA couple of servants came running, and carried him away in a state\nbordering on syncope, The last Margaret saw of him was his old furrowed\nface, white and helpless as his hair that hung down over the servant's\nelbow.\n\n\"Heaven forgive me,\" she said. \"I doubt I have killed the poor old man", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "home.\n\nPerhaps after all Margaret had nourished some faint secret hope in her\nheart, though her reason had rejected it, for she certainly went home\nmore dejectedly.\n\nJust as they entered Rotterdam, Reicht said, \"Stay! Oh, Margaret, I am\nill at deceit; but 'tis death to utter ill news to thee; I love thee so\ndear.\"\n\n\"Speak out, sweetheart,\" said Margaret. \"I have gone through so much, I\nam almost past feeling any fresh trouble.\"\n\n\"Marg", "then, that they must not come anigh a dying bed?\"\n\nBut Margaret was too deeply dejected to say anything. Joan applied rough\nconsolation. But she was not listened to till she said: \"And Jorian will\nspeak out ere long; he is just on the boil, He is very grateful to thee,\nbelieve it.\"\n\n\"Seeing is believing,\" replied Margaret, with quiet bitterness.\n\n\"Not but what he thinks you might have saved him with something more out\no' the common than yon. 'A man of my inches to", "They had not been deserted yet.) Not a\nword against the Gerard they had created out of their own heads. For the\nimaginary crime they fell foul of the supposed victim. Sometimes they\naffronted her to her face. Oftener they talked at her backwards and\nforwards with a subtle skill, and a perseverance which, \"oh, that they\nhad bestowed on the arts,\" as poor Aguecheek says.\n\nNow Margaret was brave, and a coward; brave to battle difficulties and\nill fortune; brave to shed her own blood for those she loved", "no more. The main cause of this change of\nmind was characteristic of the woman. She it was who in a moment of\nfemale irritation had cut Margaret's picture to pieces. She had watched\nthe effect with some misgivings, and had seen Gerard turn pale as death,\nand sit motionless like a bereaved creature, with the pieces in his\nhands, and his eyes fixed on them till tears came and blinded them. Then\nshe was terrified at what she had done; and next her heart smote her\nbitterly; and she wept sore apart; but", "storm that gave him a few hours more with Margaret. The sun set\nunperceived, and still the thunder pealed, and the lightning flashed,\nand the rain poured. Supper was set; but Gerard and Margaret could not\neat: the thought that this was the last time they should sup together\nchoked them. The storm lulled a little. Peter retired to rest. But\nGerard was to go at peep of day, and neither he nor Margaret could\nafford to lose an hour in sleep. Martin sat a while, too; for he was\nfitting a", "\nAnd she gently removed Catherine's arm, and made a feeble attempt to\nslide off the chair on to her knees, which, after a brief struggle with\nsuperior force, ended in her finding herself on Catherine's bosom. Then\nMargaret held out the letter to Eli, and said faintly but sweetly, \"I\nwill trust it from my hand now. In sooth, I am little fit to read any\nmore-and-and--loth to leave my comfort;\" and she wreathed her other arm\nround Catherine's neck.\n\n\"Read thou,", "speak of\nhim before these.\" They went off together, followed by a chorus. \"She\nhas gotten a man. She has gotten a man at last. Boo! boo! boo!\"\n\nMargaret quickened her steps; but Denys took down his crossbow and\npretended to shoot them all dead: they fled quadrivious, shrieking.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LI\n\nThe reader already knows how much these two had to tell one another.\nIt was a sweet yet bitter day for Margaret, since it brought her a true\nfriend, and ill news;", ": die\nnot for the poor pleasure of denying a lady what-the shadow of a heart.\nWho will shed a tear for thee? I tell thee men will laugh, not weep\nover thy tombstone-ah!\" She ended in a little scream, for Gerard threw\nhimself in a moment at her feet, and poured out in one torrent of\neloquence the story of his love and Margaret's. How he had been\nimprisoned, hunted with bloodhounds for her, driven to exile for her;\nhow she had shed her blood for him,", "For I saw no man must know this their bloody secret and\nlive. And I said, 'Poor Margaret!' And I took out of my bosom, where\nthey lie ever, our marriage lines, and kissed them again and again. And\nI pinned them to my shirt again, that they might lie in one grave with\nme, if die I must. And I thought, 'All our love and hopes to end thus!'\"\n\nEli. \"Whisht all! Their marriage lines? Give her time! But no word. I\ncan bear no chat. My poor lad!\"\n\n", "most as good, and behoves her pray for his soul. One thing, she is not\nso poor now as she was; and never fell riches to a better hand; and she\nis only come into her own for that matter, so she can pay the priest to\nsay masses for him, and that is a great comfort.\"\n\nIn the midst of their gossip, Margaret, in whose ears it was all\nbuzzing, though she seemed lost in thought, got softly up, and crept\naway with her eyes on the ground, and her brows bent.\n\n\"She hath forgotten", "faith in her dying father's\nvision, or illusion; and when this was done, and Luke gone, she wondered\nat her credulity, and her conscience pricked her about Luke; and\nCatherine came and scolded her, and she paid the price of false hopes,\nand elevation of spirits, by falling into deeper despondency. She was\nfound in this state by a staunch friend she had lately made, Joan Ketel.\nThis good woman came in radiant with an idea.\n\n\"Margaret, I know the cure for thine ill: the her", "brecht declined, and said what he had done was a cordial to him,\n\"Man seeth but a little way before him, neighbour. This land I clung\nso to it was a bed of nettles to me all the time. 'Tis gone; and I feel\nhappier and livelier like for the loss on't.\"\n\nHe called his men, and they lifted him into the litter.\n\nWhen he was gone Catherine gloated over the money. She had never seen\nso much together, and was almost angry with Margaret, for \"sitting out\nthere" ], [ "to Rome: and the girl with\nyou, if she loves you as she ought.\"\n\nThey sat till midnight over this theme. And, after that day, Gerard\nrecovered his spirits, and seemed to carry a secret talisman against all\nthe gibes and the harsh words that flew about his ears at home.\n\nBesides the money she procured him for the journey, Margaret Van Eyck\ngave him money's worth. Said she, \"I will tell you secrets that I\nlearned from masters that are gone from me, and have left no fellow\n", "\nthey had come.\n\nGerard lay aching and smarting; and to him Rome, that seemed so near at\nstarting, looked far, far off, now that he was two hundred miles nearer\nit. But soon all his thoughts turned Sevenbergen-wards. How sweet it\nwould be one day to hold Margaret's hand, and tell her all he had gone\nthrough for her! The very thought of it, and her, soothed him; and in\nthe midst of pain and irritation of the nerves be lay resigned, and\nsweetly, though faint", ", in any case you could not leave\nthe place this week.\"\n\nDenys stared at this remark, and Gerard smiled at what he thought the\nsimplicity of the old gentleman in dreaming that a provincial town of\nBurgundy had attraction to detain him from Rome and Margaret.\n\nHe now went to that which was nearest both their hearts.\n\n\"Your worship,\" said he, \"we cannot find our benefactress in the town.\"\n\n\"Nay, but who is your benefactress?\"\n\n\"Who? why the good girl that came to you by night and", "punished; and therefore he and Margaret would have\nto part for a time. Moreover, he had conceived a hatred to his native\nplace. Margaret wished him to leave the country for a while, but at\nthe thought of his going to Italy her heart fainted. Gerard, on the\ncontrary, was reconciled to leaving Margaret only by his desire to visit\nItaly, and his strong conviction that there he should earn money and\nreputation, and remove every obstacle to their marriage. He had already\ntold her all that the demoiselle Van Eyck had said to him", ".\"\n\n\"Take your own way,\" said Margaret humbly; \"you are wiser than I am. You\nare my husband,\" added she, in a low murmuring voice; \"is it for me to\ngainsay you?\"\n\nThese humble words from Margaret, who, till that day, had held the\nwhip-hand, rather surprised Martin for the moment. They recurred to him\nsome time afterwards, and then they surprised him less.\n\nGerard kissed her tenderly in return for her wife-like docility, and\nthey pursued their journey hand in", "gou, and she declined, and came; and\nthere they strolled up and down, hand in hand; and when he must go, they\npledged each other never to quarrel or misunderstand one another again;\nand they sealed the promise with a long loving kiss, and Gerard went\nhome on wings.\n\nFrom that day Gerard spent most of his evenings with Margaret, and the\nattachment deepened and deepened on both sides, till the hours they\nspent together were the hours they lived; the rest they counted and\nunderwent. And at the outset of this", "Gerard ran into\nthe house, whither they were speedily followed by Martin.\n\n\"The road is clear,\" said he, \"and a heavy storm coming on.\"\n\nHis words proved true. The thunder came nearer and nearer till it\ncrashed overhead: the flashes followed one another close, like the\nstrokes of a whip, and the rain fell in torrents. Margaret hid her face\nnot to see the lightning. On this, Gerard put up the rough shutter and\nlighted a candle. The lovers consulted together, and Gerard blessed\nthe", ". He repeated\nit, and reminded Margaret that the gold pieces were only given him to go\nto Italy with. The journey was clearly for Gerard's interest. He was a\ncraftsman and an artist, lost in this boorish place. In Italy they would\nknow how to value him. On this ground above all the unselfish girl gave\nher consent; but many tender tears came with it, and at that Gerard,\nyoung and loving as herself, cried bitterly with her, and often they\nasked one another what they had done, that so many different persons\nshould", "\"Oh, yes, Gerard,\" cried Margaret wildly. \"Fly on the instant. Ah! those\nparchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?\"\n\n\"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so. No matter: the old\ncaitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden\nhis treasure where he shall never find it.\" Gerard then, after thanking\nGiles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate\nhe was gone. \"", "ensible to her distress, so simple yet so eloquent. He said,\n\"Nay, take not on, mother! Why, 'tis a godsend. And I am sick of this,\never since Gerard left it.\"\n\n\"Ah, cruel Giles! Should ye not rather say she is bereaved of Gerard:\nthe more need of you to stay aside her and comfort her.\"\n\n\"Oh! I am not going to Rome. Not such a fool. I shall never be farther\nthan Rotterdam; and I'll often come and see you; and", "the eyes, and\nwarmeth the heart of those outside.\"\n\n\"Come, and I'll show thee something better,\" said Margaret, and led him\non tiptoe to the window.\n\nThey looked in, and there was Catherine kneeling on the hassock, with\nher \"hours\" before her.\n\n\"Folk can pray out of a cave,\" whispered Margaret. \"Ay and hit heaven\nwith their prayers; for 'tis for a sight of thee she prayeth, and thou\nart here. Now, Gerard, be prepared; she is not", ". And I am sorry to say our\nold friend Joan Ketel was one of these coarse sceptics. And now one\nwinter evening she got on a hot scent. She saw Margaret and Gerard\ntalking earnestly together on the Boulevard. She whipped behind a tree.\n\"Now I'll hear something,\" said she; and so she did. It was winter;\nthere had been one of those tremendous floods followed by a sharp\nfrost, and Gerard in despair as to where he should lodge forty or fifty\nhouseless folk out of the piercing", "mentioned him but as plain Gerard. But\nMargaret told her flatly she did not believe her; at which Reicht was\naffronted, and went out with a little toss of the head. However, she\ndetermined to question the hermit again, and did not doubt he would be\nmore liberal in his communication when he saw his nice new pelisse and\nthe candles.\n\nShe had not been gone long when Giles came in with ill news.\n\nThe living of Gouda would be kept vacant no longer.\n\nMargaret was greatly distressed", "? less than I, belike. Gerard hath gone back\nt' Italy. He hates me for not being dead.\"\n\nPresently a Tergovian came in with a word from Catherine that Ghysbrecht\nVan Swieten had seen Gerard later than any one else. On this Margaret\ndetermined to go and see the house and goods that had been left her, and\ntake Reicht Heynes home to Rotterdam. And as may be supposed, her steps\ntook her first to Ghysbrecht's house. She found him in his garden,", "and contrive and scheme together to remedy all that were\nremediable; to use the rare insight into troubled hearts which their\nown troubles had given them, and use it to make others happier than\nthemselves--this was their daily practice. And in this blessed cause\ntheir passions for one another cooled a little, but their affection\nincreased.\n\nFrom this time Margaret entered heart and soul into Gerard's pious\ncharities, that affection purged itself of all mortal dross. And as\nit had now long out-lived scandal and", "be their enemies, and combine, as it seemed, to part them.\n\nThey sat hand in hand till midnight, now deploring their hard fate, now\ndrawing bright and hopeful pictures of the future, in the midst of which\nMargaret's tears would suddenly flow, and then poor Gerard's eloquence\nwould die away in a sigh.\n\nThe morning found them resigned to part, but neither had the courage to\nsay when; and much I doubt whether the hour of parting ever would have\nstruck.\n\nBut about three in the afternoon,", "whom speak you, dear\nMargaret?\"\n\n\"Nay, then, we shall quarrel, Gerard.\"\n\n\"Methinks I see Margaret and Gerard quarrelling! Why, it takes two to\nquarrel, and we are but one.\"\n\nWith this Gerard smiled on her sweetly. But there was no kind responsive\nglance. She looked cold, gloomy, and troubled.\n\nHe sighed, and sat patiently down opposite her with his face all puzzled\nand saddened. He said nothing, for he felt sure she would explain", "They had not been deserted yet.) Not a\nword against the Gerard they had created out of their own heads. For the\nimaginary crime they fell foul of the supposed victim. Sometimes they\naffronted her to her face. Oftener they talked at her backwards and\nforwards with a subtle skill, and a perseverance which, \"oh, that they\nhad bestowed on the arts,\" as poor Aguecheek says.\n\nNow Margaret was brave, and a coward; brave to battle difficulties and\nill fortune; brave to shed her own blood for those she loved", "\"Gone, woman?\" said Gerard indignantly, \"art not ashamed to say so? Why,\nI saw her but now at the window.\"\n\n\"Oh, if you saw her--\"\n\nA sweet voice above said, \"Stay him not, let him enter.\" It was\nMargaret.\n\nGerard ran up the stairs to her, and went to take her hand, She drew\nback hastily.\n\nHe looked astounded.\n\n\"I am displeased,\" she said coldly. \"What makes you here? Know you not\n", "! it\nwas Gerard. Verily I had fallen at his feet with shame and contrition,\nbut he would not suffer me. 'That became not mine years and his, for a\nparticular fault. I say not I forgive thee without a struggle,' said he,\n'not being a saint. But these three days thou hast spent in penitence,\nI have worn under thy roof in prayer; and I do forgive thee.' Those were\nhis very words.\"\n\nMargaret's tears began to flow, for it was in a broken and contrite\nvoice the old man" ], [ "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", ", thou wert like me no one was left\nthat loved thee, when Gerard was gone.\"\n\nHe went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long and\nearnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not find.\n\nComing out of the church he saw a very old man looking over the little\nchurchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him did he live in the\nplace.\n\n\"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here every day\nof late, holy father, to take", "poor deserted child, you and I are\nwading in deep waters.\"\n\nShe applied at least half this modest, but useful supply, to dressing\nthe little Gerard beyond his station in life. \"If it does come from\nGerard, he shall see his boy neat.\" All the mothers in the street began\nto sneer, especially such as had brats out at elbows.\n\nThe months rolled on, and dead sickness of heart succeeded to these\nkeener torments. She returned to her first thought: \"Gerard must be\ndead. She should never see her", "other.\n\nPeter smiled on her, and said, \"Come, let me bless thee.\"\n\nShe kneeled at his feet, and he blessed her most eloquently.\n\nHe told her she had been all her life the lovingest, truest, and most\nobedient daughter Heaven ever sent to a poor old widowed man. \"May thy\nson be to thee what thou hast been to me!\"\n\nAfter this he dozed. Then the females whispered together; and Catherine\nsaid--\"All our talk e'en now was of Gerard. It lies", "ice?\nour son! My cares are at an end. Eli, my good friend and master, now we\ntwo can die happy whenever our time comes. This dear boy will take our\nplace, and none of these loved ones will want a home or a friend.\"\n\nFrom that hour Gerard was looked upon as the stay of the family. He\nwas a son apart, but in another sense. He was always in the right, and\nnothing too good for him. Cornelis and Sybrandt became more and more\njealous of him, and longed for the day he should go to", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "stared at them.\n\n\"What! you knew it?\"\n\n\"Carry this tale to those who know not my son, Gerard. Women are nought\nto him.\"\n\n\"Other women, mayhap. But this one is the apple of his eye to him, or\nwill be, if you part them not, and soon. Come, dame, make me not waste\ntime and friendly counsel: my servant has seen them together a score\ntimes, handed, and reading babies in one another's eyes like--you know,\ndame--you have been young, too.\"", "is our heir; poor Gerard, whom you have banished and\ndone your best to kill; after that never call me mother again! But you\nhave made him tenfold dearer to me. My poor lost boy! I shall soon see\nhim again shall hold him in my arms, and set him on my knees. Ay, you\nmay stare! You are too crafty, and yet not crafty enow. You cut the\nstalk away; but you left the seed--the seed that shall outgrow you, and\noutlive you. Margaret Brandt is quick, and it is Ger", "his jerkin as he went.\n\nBut as they hurried along, he asked her what on earth she meant? \"I talk\nof this friar, and you answer me of Gerard.\"\n\n\"Man, see you not, this is Gerard!\"\n\n\"This, Gerard? what mean ye?\"\n\n\"I mean, yon friar is my boy's father. I have waited for him long,\nJorian. Well, he is come to me at last. And thank God for it. Oh, my\npoor child! Quicker, Jorian", "Tiber.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"And the assassin saved his life. Thou hadst chosen for the task\nLodovico, husband of Teresa, whom this Gerard had saved at sea, her and\nher infant child.\"\n\n\"He lives! he lives! he lives! I am faint.\"\n\nThe friar took the crucifix from her hands, fearing it might fall, A\nshower of tears relieved her. The friar gave her time; then continued\ncalmly, \"Ay, he lives; thanks to thee and", "; and call me not a priest, for a priest I will never be. I will\ndie sooner.\"\n\n\"That we shall see, young man. Come, gainsay me no more; you will learn\nwhat 'tis to disrespect a father.\"\n\nGerard held his peace, and the three walked home in gloomy silence,\nbroken only by a deep sigh or two from Catherine.\n\nFrom that hour the little house at Tergou was no longer the abode of\npeace. Gerard was taken to task next day before the whole family; and\nevery voice was", "bedside, and\nsaid mildly and sotto voce, \"How is't with thee, my son?\"\n\nGerard answered gratefully that his wound gave him little pain now; but\nhis throat was parched, and his head heavy.\n\n\"A wound! they told me not of that. Let me see it. Ay, ay, a good clean\nbite. The mastiff had sound teeth that took this out, I warrant me;\"\nand the good doctor's sympathy seemed to run off to the quadruped he had\nconjured, his jackal.", "ard, she is all to thee that I am to this sweet\nchild. Ah, I think so much more of mothers since I had my little Gerard.\nShe suffered for thee, and nursed thee, and tended thee from boy to man.\nPriest monk, hermit, call thyself what thou wilt, to her thou art but\none thing; her child.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" murmured Gerard, in a quavering voice.\n\n\"At Gouda manse, wearing the night in prayer and care.\"\n\nThen Margaret", "could only say, with an instinct of self-defence,\n\"Pray for the soul of Gerard the son of Eli!\" meaning that he was dead\nto the world. And he sat wondering.\n\nWhen the woman was gone, he determined, after an inward battle, to risk\nbeing seen, and he peeped after her to see who it could be; but he took\nso many precautions, and she ran so quickly back to her friend, that the\nroad was clear.\n\n\"Satan!\" said he directly.\n\nAnd that night back came his visions of", "?\n\n\"Father! I have no father,\" said Gerard sternly. \"He that was my father\nis turned my gaoler. I have escaped from his hands; I will never come\nwithin their reach again.\"\n\n\"An enemy did this, and not our father.\"\n\nAnd she told him what she had overheard Cornelis and Sybrandt say. But\nthe injury was too recent to be soothed. Gerard showed a bitterness of\nindignation he had hitherto seemed incapable of.\n\n\"Cornelis and Sybrand", "dropped her work, and uttered a faint cry,\nand was white and red by turns. But these signs of emotion were swiftly\ndismissed, and she turned far more chill and indifferent than she would\nif she had not betrayed this agitation.\n\n\"What! is it you, Master Gerard? What on earth brings you here, I\nwonder?\"\n\n\"I was passing by and saw you; so I thought I would give you good day,\nand ask after your father.\"\n\n\"My father is well. He will be here anon.\"\n\n\"Then", "on your business and none of mine.\"\nCatherine and her daughter exchanged a swift glance of contemptuous\nincredulity. They knew the man better than he thought.\n\n\"It is about your son Gerard.\"\n\n\"Ay! ay! you want him to work for the town all for nothing. He told us.\"\n\n\"I come on no such errand. It is to let you know he has fallen into bad\nhands.\"\n\n\"Now Heaven and the saints forbid! Man, torture not a mother! Speak out,\nand quickly: speak ere", "es.\"\n\nHe was hurried on board at La Vere, and never saw Gerard at that time.\n\nIn 1473 Sybrandt began to fail. His pitiable existence had been\nsweetened by his brother's inventive tenderness and his own contented\nspirit, which, his antecedents considered, was truly remarkable, As for\nGerard, the day never passed that he did not devote two hours to him;\nreading or singing to him, praying with him, and drawing him about in a\nsoft carriage Margaret and he had made between them", "It's my belief my man knows more about your Gerard\nthan anybody in these parts; but he has got to be closer than ever of\nlate. Drop in some day just afore sunset, and set him talking. And for\nour Lady's sake say not I set you on. The only hiding he ever gave me\nwas for babbling his business; and I do not want another. Gramercy! I\nmarried a man for the comfort of the thing, not to be hided.\"\n\nCatherine dropped in. Jorian was ready enough to tell her how he had\n", "next boat, or the next\nboat after. And if he chooses to answer to that name--After all, I am\nnot the keeper of his conscience.\"\n\n\"Good father, one plain word, for Heaven's sake, This Gerard Eliassoen\nof Tergou--is he alive?\"\n\n\"Humph! Why, certes, he that went by that name is alive.\"\n\n\"Well, then, that is settled,\" said Luke drily. But the next moment he\nfound it necessary to run out of sight and blubber.\n\n\"Oh, why" ], [ "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", ". But he sees Gerard's\nfolk coming around ye, and good friends, and he said only last night--\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"He made me vow not to tell ye.\"\n\n\"Prithee, tell me.\"\n\n\"Well, he said: 'An' if I tell what little I know, it won't bring\nhim back, and it will set them all by the ears. I wish I had more\nheadpiece,' said he; 'I am sore perplexed. But least said is soonest\nmended.' Yon is his favourite", "\nthere was a shrewd boy of nine years, instead of learning to work\nand obey, playing about and learning selfishness from their infinite\nunselfishness, and tyrannizing with a rod of iron over two women, both\nof them sagacious and spirited, but reduced by their fondness for him to\nthe exact level of idiots.\n\nGerard saw this with pain, and interfered with mild but firm\nremonstrance; and after a considerable struggle prevailed, and got\nlittle Gerard sent to the best school in Europe, kept by one Ha", "to me;\nand, above all, tell not a woman a word of this, least of all the women\nthat are in your own house: for chattering tongues mar wisest counsels.\"\n\nSo he dismissed them, a little superciliously: he was ashamed of his\nconfederates.\n\nOn their return home they found their brother Gerard seated on a low\nstool at their mother's knee: she was caressing his hair with her hand,\nspeaking very kindly to him, and promising to take his part with his\nfather and thwart his love", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "ard, she is all to thee that I am to this sweet\nchild. Ah, I think so much more of mothers since I had my little Gerard.\nShe suffered for thee, and nursed thee, and tended thee from boy to man.\nPriest monk, hermit, call thyself what thou wilt, to her thou art but\none thing; her child.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" murmured Gerard, in a quavering voice.\n\n\"At Gouda manse, wearing the night in prayer and care.\"\n\nThen Margaret", "elling above all on the\nkindness to her of his parents; and while she related her troubles, his\nhand stole to hers, and often she felt him wince and tremble with ire,\nand often press her hand, sympathizing with her in every vein.\n\n\"Oh, piteous tale of a true heart battling alone against such bitter\nodds,\" said he.\n\n\"It all seems small, when I see thee here again, and nursing my boy. We\nhave had a warning, Gerard. True friends like you and me are rare, and\nthey", "fully away after the\nparty. This incident had consequences no one then present foresaw. Its\nimmediate results were agreeable. The Tergovians turned proud of Giles,\nand listened with more affability to his prayers for parchment. For\nhe drove a regular trade with his brother Gerard in this article. Went\nabout and begged it gratis, and Gerard gave him coppers for it.\n\nOn the afternoon of the same day, Catherine and her daughter were\nchatting together about their favourite theme, Gerard, his goodness, his\nbenefice, and the", "es.\"\n\nHe was hurried on board at La Vere, and never saw Gerard at that time.\n\nIn 1473 Sybrandt began to fail. His pitiable existence had been\nsweetened by his brother's inventive tenderness and his own contented\nspirit, which, his antecedents considered, was truly remarkable, As for\nGerard, the day never passed that he did not devote two hours to him;\nreading or singing to him, praying with him, and drawing him about in a\nsoft carriage Margaret and he had made between them", "misapprehension, one would have\nthought that so bright an example of pure self-denying affection was to\nremain long before the world, to show men how nearly religious faith,\neven when not quite reasonable, and religious charity, which is always\nreasonable, could raise two true lovers' hearts to the loving hearts\nof the angels of heaven. But the great Disposer of events ordered\notherwise.\n\nLittle Gerard rejoiced both his parents' hearts by the extraordinary\nprogress he made at Alexander Haaghe's famous school at Deventer.\n\nThe", "loud against him, except little Kate's and the dwarf's,\nwho was apt to take his cue from her without knowing why. As for\nCornelis and Sybrandt, they were bitterer than their father. Gerard\nwas dismayed at finding so many enemies, and looked wistfully into his\nlittle sister's face: her eyes were brimming at the harsh words showered\non one who but yesterday was the universal pet. But she gave him no\nencouragement: she turned her head away from him and said:\n\n\"Dear,", "dear Gerard, pray to Heaven to cure you of this folly!\"\n\n\"What, are you against me too?\" said Gerard, sadly; and he rose with a\ndeep sigh, and left the house and went to Sevenbergen.\n\nThe beginning of a quarrel, where the parties are bound by affection\nthough opposed in interest and sentiment, is comparatively innocent:\nboth are perhaps in the right at first starting, and then it is that\na calm, judicious friend, capable of seeing both sides, is a gift from\nHeaven. For the longer the dissension endures,", "each\nhis coin with one glare of greediness and another glare of envy at Kate,\nwho had got two pieces. Giles seized his and rolled it along the floor\nand gambolled after it. Kate put down her crutches and sat down, and\nheld out her little arms to Gerard with a heavenly gesture of love and\ntenderness; and the mother, fairly benumbed at first by the shower of\ngold that fell on her apron, now cried out, \"Leave kissing him, Kate;\nhe is my son, not yours. Ah. Ger", "one of two things, either she said, \"I do\nnot see my way,\" and refused to guess; or else she gave him advice that\nproved wonderfully sagacious. He had genius, but she had marvellous\ntact.\n\nAnd where affection came in and annihilated the woman's judgment, he\nstepped in his turn to her aid. Thus though she knew she was spoiling\nlittle Gerard, and Catherine was ruining him for life, she would not\npart with him, but kept him at home, and his abilities uncultivated. And", "mother stood by and heard it.\nAnd he took our Gerard in his arms, and kissed him; and what think you\nhe said?\"\n\n\"Nay, I know not.\"\n\n\"'Holland will hear of thee one day; and not Holland only, but all the\nworld,' Why what a sad brow!\"\n\n\"Sweet one, I am as glad as thou, yet am I uneasy to hear the child is\nwise before his time, I love him dear; but he is thine idol, and Heaven\ndoth often break our idols.\"\n\n", "so\nmany joys, why, I share it with a multitude. For alas! I am not the only\npriest by thousands that must never hope for entire earthly happiness.\nHere, then, thy lot is harder than mine.\"\n\n\"But Gerard, I have my child to love. Thou canst not fill thy heart with\nhim as his mother can, So you may set this against you.\"\n\n\"And I have ta'en him from thee; it was cruel; but he would have broken\nthy heart one day if I had not. Well then, sweet", "Ghysbrecht, on. And now, here are\nGerard's own written words to prove it. You have driven your own flesh\nand blood into a far land, and robbed the mother that bore you of her\ndarling, the pride of her eye, the joy of her heart. But you are all of\na piece from end to end. When you were all boys together, my others were\na comfort; but you were a curse: mischievous and sly; and took a woman\nhalf a day to keep your clothes whole: for why? work wears cloth", "ice?\nour son! My cares are at an end. Eli, my good friend and master, now we\ntwo can die happy whenever our time comes. This dear boy will take our\nplace, and none of these loved ones will want a home or a friend.\"\n\nFrom that hour Gerard was looked upon as the stay of the family. He\nwas a son apart, but in another sense. He was always in the right, and\nnothing too good for him. Cornelis and Sybrandt became more and more\njealous of him, and longed for the day he should go to", "circumstances, which were not in the smallest\ndegree pathetic or humorous, but only dead trivial. At last Gerard put\nhis fingers in his ears, and lying down in his clothes, for the sheets\nwere too dirty for him to undress, contrived to sleep. But in an hour or\ntwo he awoke cold, and found that his drunken companion had got all the\nfeather bed; so mighty is instinct. They lay between two beds; the lower\none hard and made of straw, the upper soft and filled with feathers\nlight as down. Gerard pulled at it,", "-strings. One anxiety he\nnever affected to conceal. \"If I but knew where the boy is, and that his\nlife and health are in no danger, small would be my care,\" would he say;\nand then a deep sigh would follow. I cannot help thinking that if Gerard\nhad opened the door just then, and walked in, there would have been many\ntears and embraces for him, and few reproaches, or none.\n\nOne thing took the old couple quite by surprise--publicity. Ere Gerard\nhad been gone a week, his adventures were in every" ], [ "\nthere was a shrewd boy of nine years, instead of learning to work\nand obey, playing about and learning selfishness from their infinite\nunselfishness, and tyrannizing with a rod of iron over two women, both\nof them sagacious and spirited, but reduced by their fondness for him to\nthe exact level of idiots.\n\nGerard saw this with pain, and interfered with mild but firm\nremonstrance; and after a considerable struggle prevailed, and got\nlittle Gerard sent to the best school in Europe, kept by one Ha", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "misapprehension, one would have\nthought that so bright an example of pure self-denying affection was to\nremain long before the world, to show men how nearly religious faith,\neven when not quite reasonable, and religious charity, which is always\nreasonable, could raise two true lovers' hearts to the loving hearts\nof the angels of heaven. But the great Disposer of events ordered\notherwise.\n\nLittle Gerard rejoiced both his parents' hearts by the extraordinary\nprogress he made at Alexander Haaghe's famous school at Deventer.\n\nThe", "last time Margaret returned from visiting him, she came to Gerard\nflushed with pride. \"Oh, Gerard, he will be a great man one day, thanks\nto thy wisdom in taking him from us silly women. A great scholar, one\nZinthius, came to see the school and judge the scholars, and didn't our\nGerard stand up, and not a line in Horace or Terence could Zinthius cite\nbut the boy would follow him with the rest. 'Why, 'tis a prodigy,' says\nthat great scholar; and there was his poor", "-strings. One anxiety he\nnever affected to conceal. \"If I but knew where the boy is, and that his\nlife and health are in no danger, small would be my care,\" would he say;\nand then a deep sigh would follow. I cannot help thinking that if Gerard\nhad opened the door just then, and walked in, there would have been many\ntears and embraces for him, and few reproaches, or none.\n\nOne thing took the old couple quite by surprise--publicity. Ere Gerard\nhad been gone a week, his adventures were in every", "on your business and none of mine.\"\nCatherine and her daughter exchanged a swift glance of contemptuous\nincredulity. They knew the man better than he thought.\n\n\"It is about your son Gerard.\"\n\n\"Ay! ay! you want him to work for the town all for nothing. He told us.\"\n\n\"I come on no such errand. It is to let you know he has fallen into bad\nhands.\"\n\n\"Now Heaven and the saints forbid! Man, torture not a mother! Speak out,\nand quickly: speak ere", "poor deserted child, you and I are\nwading in deep waters.\"\n\nShe applied at least half this modest, but useful supply, to dressing\nthe little Gerard beyond his station in life. \"If it does come from\nGerard, he shall see his boy neat.\" All the mothers in the street began\nto sneer, especially such as had brats out at elbows.\n\nThe months rolled on, and dead sickness of heart succeeded to these\nkeener torments. She returned to her first thought: \"Gerard must be\ndead. She should never see her", "boorish\ntown, and this is a friend; and one who knows, what you know not, how to\ntreat the aged and the weak.\"\n\nThe crowd was dead silent. They had only been thoughtless, and now felt\nthe rebuke, though severe, was just. The silence enabled Gerard to treat\nwith the porter.\n\n\"I am a competitor, sir.\"\n\n\"What is your name?\" and the man eyed him suspiciously.\n\n\"Gerard, the son of Elias.\"\n\nThe janitor inspected a slip of par", "seem so hard he should not share my\njoy. Prithee, prithee, come to me, Gerard! dear, dear Gerard!\" And she\nstretched out her feeble arms.\n\nCatherine hustled about, but avoided Margaret's eyes; for she could not\nrestrain her own tears at hearing her own absent child thus earnestly\naddressed.\n\nPresently, turning round, she found Margaret looking at her with a\nsingular expression. \"Heard you nought?\"\n\n\"No, my lamb. What?\"\n\n\"I", "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", "ied with his own over Gerard. At each municipal tender of undying\naffection, he turned almost purple with the effort it cost him not\nto roar with glee; and driving his elbow into the deep-meditating\nand much-puzzled pupil of antiquity, whispered, \"Le peu que sont les\nhommes.\"\n\nThe next morning Gerard was eager to start, but Denys was under a vow to\nsee the murderers of the golden-haired girl executed.\n\nGerard respected his vow, but avoided his example.\n\nHe went", "iculate noise issued from the room at the head of the little\nstairs. Denys burst in, and there was Gerard asleep.\n\n\"Thank God!\" he said, in a choking voice, then began to sing loud,\nuntuneful ditties. Gerard put his fingers into his ears; but presently\nhe saw in Denys's face a horror that contrasted strangely with this\nsudden merriment.\n\n\"What ails thee?\" said he, sitting up and staring.\n\n\"Hush!\" said Denys, and his hand spoke even", "'s parson to teach him true piety and useful lore. Is\nhe not of more value than many sparrows?\"\n\nGerard started and stammered an affirmation. For she waited for his\nreply.\n\n\"You wonder,\" continued she, \"to hear me quote holy writ so glib. I have\npored over it this four years, and why? Not because God wrote it, but\nbecause I saw it often in thy hands ere thou didst leave me. Heaven\nforgive me, I am but a woman. What thinkest thou of this sentence?", "could only say, with an instinct of self-defence,\n\"Pray for the soul of Gerard the son of Eli!\" meaning that he was dead\nto the world. And he sat wondering.\n\nWhen the woman was gone, he determined, after an inward battle, to risk\nbeing seen, and he peeped after her to see who it could be; but he took\nso many precautions, and she ran so quickly back to her friend, that the\nroad was clear.\n\n\"Satan!\" said he directly.\n\nAnd that night back came his visions of", "he is a priest, and can do no better. But you are not a priest.\nHe has got his parish, and his heart is in that. Bethink thee! Time\nflies; overstay not thy market. Wouldst not like to have three or four\nmore little darlings about thy knee now they have robbed thee of poor\nlittle Gerard, and sent him to yon nasty school?\" And so she worked upon\na mind already irritated.\n\nMargaret had many suitors ready to marry her at a word or even a\nlook, and among", "ice?\nour son! My cares are at an end. Eli, my good friend and master, now we\ntwo can die happy whenever our time comes. This dear boy will take our\nplace, and none of these loved ones will want a home or a friend.\"\n\nFrom that hour Gerard was looked upon as the stay of the family. He\nwas a son apart, but in another sense. He was always in the right, and\nnothing too good for him. Cornelis and Sybrandt became more and more\njealous of him, and longed for the day he should go to", ".\n\nThe good father had only reached the convent the night before last.\nGerard recognized him in a moment, and cried to him, \"Oh, Father Anselm,\nyou cured my wounded body in Juliers: now cure my hurt soul in Rome!\nAlas, you cannot.\"\n\nAnselm sat down by the bedside, and putting a gentle hand on his head,\nfirst calmed him with a soothing word or two.\n\nHe then (for he had learned how Gerard came there) spoke to him kindly\nbut solemnly, and made", ",\" cried Margaret vehemently; \"I am sorry I sent for\nyou. Would you rob me of the only bit of comfort I have in the world?\nA-nursing my Gerard, I forget I am the most unhappy creature beneath the\nsun.\"\n\n\"That you do not,\" was the retort, \"or he would not be the way he is.\"\n\n\"Mother!\" said Margaret imploringly.\n\n\"'Tis hard,\" replied Catherine, relenting. \"But bethink thee; would it\nnot be harder to look down and see his", "happy.\n\nBut Margaret was not.\n\nThe habitual expression of her face was a sweet pensiveness, but\nsometimes she was irritable and a little petulant. She even snapped\nGerard now and then. And when she went to see him, if a monk was with\nhim she would turn her back and go home. She hated the monks for having\nparted Gerard and her, and she inoculated her boy with a contempt for\nthem which lasted him till his dying day.\n\nGerard bore with her like an angel. He knew her", "she was miserable, told him his mother\nwished her to marry one of those two; and if he approved of her marrying\nat all, would he use his wisdom, and tell her which he thought would be\nthe kindest to the little Gerard of those two; for herself, she did not\ncare what became of her.\n\nGerard felt as if she had put a soft hand into his body and torn his\nheart out with it. But the priest with a mighty effort mastered the man.\nIn a voice scarcely audible he declined this responsibility. \"I am not a" ], [ "It's my belief my man knows more about your Gerard\nthan anybody in these parts; but he has got to be closer than ever of\nlate. Drop in some day just afore sunset, and set him talking. And for\nour Lady's sake say not I set you on. The only hiding he ever gave me\nwas for babbling his business; and I do not want another. Gramercy! I\nmarried a man for the comfort of the thing, not to be hided.\"\n\nCatherine dropped in. Jorian was ready enough to tell her how he had\n", ".\"\n\n\"Take your own way,\" said Margaret humbly; \"you are wiser than I am. You\nare my husband,\" added she, in a low murmuring voice; \"is it for me to\ngainsay you?\"\n\nThese humble words from Margaret, who, till that day, had held the\nwhip-hand, rather surprised Martin for the moment. They recurred to him\nsome time afterwards, and then they surprised him less.\n\nGerard kissed her tenderly in return for her wife-like docility, and\nthey pursued their journey hand in", "seated her all by herself like a\nleper. She looked at Denys, and putting her hand down by her side, made\nhim a swift furtive motion to come by her.\n\nHe went with an obedient start as if she had cried \"March!\" and stood\nat her shoulder like a sentinel; but this zealous manner of doing it\nrevealed to the company that he had been ordered thither; and at that\nshe coloured. And now she began to read her Gerard, their Gerard, to\ntheir eager ears, in a mellow,", "she was miserable, told him his mother\nwished her to marry one of those two; and if he approved of her marrying\nat all, would he use his wisdom, and tell her which he thought would be\nthe kindest to the little Gerard of those two; for herself, she did not\ncare what became of her.\n\nGerard felt as if she had put a soft hand into his body and torn his\nheart out with it. But the priest with a mighty effort mastered the man.\nIn a voice scarcely audible he declined this responsibility. \"I am not a", "stared at them.\n\n\"What! you knew it?\"\n\n\"Carry this tale to those who know not my son, Gerard. Women are nought\nto him.\"\n\n\"Other women, mayhap. But this one is the apple of his eye to him, or\nwill be, if you part them not, and soon. Come, dame, make me not waste\ntime and friendly counsel: my servant has seen them together a score\ntimes, handed, and reading babies in one another's eyes like--you know,\ndame--you have been young, too.\"", "dropped her work, and uttered a faint cry,\nand was white and red by turns. But these signs of emotion were swiftly\ndismissed, and she turned far more chill and indifferent than she would\nif she had not betrayed this agitation.\n\n\"What! is it you, Master Gerard? What on earth brings you here, I\nwonder?\"\n\n\"I was passing by and saw you; so I thought I would give you good day,\nand ask after your father.\"\n\n\"My father is well. He will be here anon.\"\n\n\"Then", "e, Gerard, bless thee!\nWhy, what is here, Gerard?\"\n\nOn the other leaves were pinned every scrap of paper she had ever sent\nhim, and their two names she had once written together in sport, and\nthe lock of her hair she had given him, and half a silver coin she had\nbroken with him, and a straw she had sucked her soup with the first day\nhe ever saw her.\n\nWhen Margaret saw these proofs of love and signs of a gentle heart\nbereaved, even her exultation at getting back her marriage lines was\nover", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "\n\nShe trembled violently, and with her cheeks on fire began to falter out,\n\"I did look on Gerard as my husband--we being betrothed-and he was in so\nsore danger, and I thought I had killed him, and I-oh, if you were but\nmy mother I might find courage: you would question me. But you say not a\nword.\"\n\n\"Why, Margaret, what is all this coil about? and why are thy cheeks\ncrimson, speaking to no stranger', but to thy old father?\"\n\n\"Why are my cheeks", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "whom speak you, dear\nMargaret?\"\n\n\"Nay, then, we shall quarrel, Gerard.\"\n\n\"Methinks I see Margaret and Gerard quarrelling! Why, it takes two to\nquarrel, and we are but one.\"\n\nWith this Gerard smiled on her sweetly. But there was no kind responsive\nglance. She looked cold, gloomy, and troubled.\n\nHe sighed, and sat patiently down opposite her with his face all puzzled\nand saddened. He said nothing, for he felt sure she would explain", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "never at all.\"\n\nMarion. \"Alack! Talk of my tongue. But I say no more. She under whose\nwing I live now deals the blow. I'm sped--'tis but a chambermaid gone.\nCatch what's left on't!\" and she staggered and sank backwards on to the\nhandsomest fellow in the room, which happened to be Gerard.\n\n\"Tic! tic!\" cried he peevishly; \"there, don't be stupid! that is too\nheavy a jest for me. See you", "to her father and her. And to her so\nmortified, and anxious and jostled, came suddenly this kind hand and\nface. \"Hinc illae lacrimae.\"\n\n\"All is well now,\" remarked a coarse humourist; \"she hath gotten her\nsweetheart.\"\n\n\"Haw! haw! haw!\" went the crowd.\n\nShe dropped Gerard's hand directly, and turned round, with eyes flashing\nthrough her tears:\n\n\"I have no sweetheart, you rude men. But I am friendless in your", "\"Gone, woman?\" said Gerard indignantly, \"art not ashamed to say so? Why,\nI saw her but now at the window.\"\n\n\"Oh, if you saw her--\"\n\nA sweet voice above said, \"Stay him not, let him enter.\" It was\nMargaret.\n\nGerard ran up the stairs to her, and went to take her hand, She drew\nback hastily.\n\nHe looked astounded.\n\n\"I am displeased,\" she said coldly. \"What makes you here? Know you not\n", "and haughtily to her\ndependents, but at sight of Gerard lowered her voice to a very feminine\ntone, and said, \"Are you the writer, messer?\"\n\n\"I am, Signora.\n\n\"'Tis well.\"\n\nShe then seated herself; Gerard and her maids remained standing.\n\n\"What is your name, good youth?\"\n\n\"Gerard, signora.\"\n\n\"Gerard? body of Bacchus! is that the name of a human creature?\"\n\n\"It is a Dutch name, signora", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", "settled they should\nretire into Flanders for a few weeks until the storm should be blown\nover at Tergou. The cure did not keep them waiting long, though it\nseemed an age. Presently he stood at the altar, and called them to him.\nThey went hand in hand, the happiest in Holland. The cure opened his\nbook.\n\nBut ere he uttered a single word of the sacred rite, a harsh voice cried\n\"Forbear!\" And the constables of Tergou came up the aisle and seized\nGerard in the name of the", "Gerard Eliassoen was of their company. Upon Gerard's\nanswer, he said:\n\n\"The Princess Marie would confer with you, young sir; I am to conduct\nyou to her presence.\"\n\nInstantly all faces within hearing turned sharp round, and were bent\nwith curiosity and envy on the man that was to go to a princess.\n\nGerard rose to obey.\n\n\"I wager we shall not see you again,\" said Margaret calmly, but\ncolouring a little.\n\n\"That you will,\" was the reply: then he whispered in her", "Gerard. \"I will read this.\"\n\n\"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now,\" cried Margaret. \"Every moment you lose\nfills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall,\nand the clouds lower.\"\n\nGerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom,\nand threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down. While thus\nemployed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant\nthunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and" ], [ "suicide during the first\ntwenty-four hours of the solitary cell. This is doubtless why our Jairi\nabstain so carefully from the impertinence of watching their little\nexperiment upon the human soul at that particular stage of it.\n\nAs the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank; with the waning\nlight even the embers of hope went out. He was faint, too, with hunger;\nfor he was afraid to eat the food Ghysbrecht had brought him; and hunger\nalone cows men. He sat upon the chest, his", "\n\nHis old landlady who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the stair, heard\nthe raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.\n\nShe found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.\n\nShe remonstrated.\n\n\"What avails my lying here?\" said he gloomily. \"Can I find here that\nwhich I seek?\"\n\n\"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?\"\n\n\"Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so", "\nwith tears in his eyes the Cause of Gerard's illness, all his contempt\nrevived. \"Dying for a woman?\"\n\nHe determined to avert this scandal; he visited Clement twice a day\nin his cell, and tried all his old influence and all his eloquence to\ninduce him to shake off this unspiritual despondency, and not rob the\nchurch of his piety and his eloquence at so critical a period.\n\nGerard heard him, approved his reasoning, admired his strength,\nconfessed his own", "company. Yet\nit was his daily company.\n\nHe hung over the boat in moody silence.\n\nAnd from that hour another phase of his misery began; and grew upon him.\n\nSome wretched fools try to drown care in drink.\n\nThe fumes of intoxication vanish; the inevitable care remains, and must\nbe faced at last--with an aching head, disordered stomach, and spirits\nartificially depressed.\n\nGerard's conduct had been of a piece with these maniacs'. To survive\nhis terrible blow he needed all", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "why.\nShe was a long time ere she revived, and when she did she found Gerard\nholding her hand, and bending over her with a look of infinite concern\nand tenderness. She seemed at first as if she responded to it, but the\nnext moment her eyes dilated, and she cried--\"Ah, wretch, leave my hand;\nhow dare you touch me?\"\n\n\"Heaven help her!\" said Gerard. \"She is not herself.\"\n\n\"You will not leave me, then, Gerard?\" said she faintly. \"Alas! why", "him feel his crime, and urged him to repentance,\nand gratitude to that Divine Power which had thwarted his will to save\nhis soul.\n\n\"Come, my son,\" said he, \"first purge thy bosom of its load.\"\n\n\"Ah, father,\" said Gerard, \"in Juliers I could; then I was innocent but\nnow, impious monster that I am, I dare not confess to you.\"\n\n\"Why not, my son? Thinkest thou I have not sinned against Heaven in my\ntime, and deeply? oh, how deeply!", "and even then, with his acquired\nsagacity and reflected light, he can but spell and decipher his own\nheart, not read it fluently. Half way to Sevenbergen Gerard looked into\nhis own heart, and asked it why he was going to Sevenbergen. His heart\nreplied without a moment's hesitation, \"We are going out of curiosity\nto know why she jilted us, and to show her it has not broken our hearts,\nand that we are quite content with our honours and our benefice in\nprospectu, and don't want her", "and insolence.\nFarewell.\" He went. He came. He roared, \"And think not to be buried in\nany Christian church-yard; for the bailiff is my good friend, and I\nshall tell him how and why you died: felo de se! felo de se! Farewell.\"\n\nGerard sprang to his feet on the bed by some supernatural gymnastic\npower excitement lent him, and seeing him so moved, the vindictive\norator came back at him fiercer than ever, to launch some master-threat\nthe", "the very last of him; and the last\nglimpse he caught, Denys was rocking to and fro on his mule, and tearing\nhis hair out. But at this sight something rose in Gerard's throat so\nhigh, so high, he could run no more nor breathe, but gasped, and leaned\nagainst the snow-clad hedge, seizing it, and choking piteously.\n\nThe thorns ran into his hand.\n\nAfter a bitter struggle he got his breath again; and now began to see\nhis own misfortune. Yet not", "end all!\" Things\nfoolishly worded are not always foolish; one of poor Catherine's\nbugbears, these numerous canals, did sorely tempt this poor fluctuating\ngirl. She stood on the bank one afternoon, and eyed the calm deep water.\nIt seemed an image of repose, and she was so harassed. No more trouble.\nNo more fear of shame. If Gerard had not loved her, I doubt she had\nended there.\n\nAs it was, she kneeled by the water side, and prayed fervently to God to\nkeep", "powered by gushing tenderness. She almost staggered, and her hand\nwent to her bosom, and she leaned her brow against the stone cell and\nwept so silently that he did not see she was weeping; indeed she would\nnot let him, for she felt that to befriend him now she must be the\nstronger; and emotion weakens.\n\n\"Gerard,\" said she, \"I know you are wise and good. You must have a\nreason for what you are doing, let it seem ever so unreasonable. Talk we\nlike old friends. Why are you", "faltered at this a moment. But soon, by a strong effort,\nhe recovered all his calmness.\n\n\"His feeble nature yielded, body and soul, to the blow, He was stricken\ndown with fever. He revived only to rebel against Heaven. He said,\n'There is no God.'\"\n\n\"Poor, poor Gerard!\"\n\n\"Poor Gerard? thou feeble, foolish woman! Nay, wicked, impious Gerard.\nHe plunged into vice, and soiled his eternal jewel: those you met\nhim with were his", "to words of love, such as she had never uttered to him before,\nnor thought she could utter. Then the poor creature, trembling all over,\nbegan to say over that ashy face little foolish things that were at once\nterrible and pitiable.\n\n\"Oh, Gerard! I am very sorry you are dead. I am very sorry I have killed\nyou. Forgive me for not letting the men take you; it would have been\nbetter than this. Oh, Gerard! I am very, very sorry for what I have\ndone.\" Then she began suddenly", "spot an event had just occurred, which, take it\naltogether, was perhaps without a parallel in the history of mankind,\nand may remain so to the end of time.\n\nBut it shall be told in a very few words, partly by me, partly by an\nactor in the scene.\n\nGerard, then, after writing his brief adieu to Pietro and Andrea, had\nstolen down to the river at nightfall.\n\nHe had taken his measures with a dogged resolution not uncommon in those\nwho are bent on self-destruction. He filled his pockets with", "and maidens cast many a pitying glance, as they passed, at\nthe little window where the beauty of the village lay \"dying for love.\"\nIn this familiar phrase they underrated her spirit and unselfishness.\nGerard was not dead, and she was too loyal herself to doubt his\nconstancy. Her father was dear to her and helpless; and but for bodily\nweakness, all her love for Gerard would not have kept her from doing\nher duties, though she might have gone about them with drooping head and\nheavy heart. But physical and mental excitement had", "to rave.\n\n\"No! no! such things can't be, or there is no God. It is monstrous. How\ncan my Gerard be dead? How can I have killed my Gerard? I love him. Oh,\nGod! you know how I love him. He does not. I never told him. If he knew\nmy heart, he would speak to me, he would not be so deaf to his poor\nMargaret. It is all a trick to make me cry out and betray him; but no!\nI love him too well for that. I", "Hush!\" said she; \"my mother knows not. Gerard has left Tergou.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"I saw him last night.\"\n\n\"Ay! Where?\" cried Dierich eagerly.\n\n\"At the foot of the haunted tower.\"\n\n\"How did he get the rope?\"\n\n\"I know not; but this I know; my brother Gerard bade me there farewell,\nand he is many leagues from Tergou ere this. The town, you know, was\nalways unworthy of him, and when it imprisoned him", "'ll choke first.\" And she seized her own\nthroat, to check her wild desire to scream in her terror and anguish.\n\n\"If he would but say one word. Oh, Gerard! don't die without a word.\nHave mercy on me and scold me, but speak to me: if you are angry with\nme, scold me! curse me! I deserve it: the idiot that killed the man she\nloved better than herself. Ah I am a murderess. The worst in all the\nworld. Help! help! I have murdered him. Ah", "thee.\" He then related in full how he had been arrested, and by\nwhat a providential circumstance he had escaped long imprisonment or\nspeedy conflagration.\n\nHis narrative produced an effect he little expected or desired.\n\n\"I am a traitor,\" cried Denys. \"I left thee in a strange place to fight\nthine own battles, while I shook the dice with those jades. Now take\nthou this sword and pass it through my body forthwith.\"\n\n\"What for in Heaven's name?\" inquired Gerard.\n\n\"For" ], [ "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", "after this a pale bowed figure entered the Dominican convent\nin the suburbs of Gouda, and sought speech with Brother Ambrose, who\ngoverned the convent as deputy, the prior having lately died, and his\nsuccessor, though appointed, not having arrived.\n\nThe sick man was Gerard, come to end life as he began it.\n\nHe entered as a novice, on probation; but the truth was, he was a\nfailing man, and knew it, and came there to die in peace, near kind and\ngentle Ambrose, his friend, and the", "So please you, reverend father,\" said Gerard, \"my hand it trembleth too\nmuch at this moment; but last night I wrote a vellum page of Greek, and\nthe Latin version by its side, to show the various character.\"\n\n\"Show it me?\"\n\nGerard brought the work to him in fear and trembling; then stood\nheart-sick, awaiting his verdict.\n\nWhen it came it staggered him. For the verdict was, a Dominican falling\non his neck.\n\nThe next day an event took place in Holland", "bade him farewell. \"Day breaks,\" said he; \"I must\nprepare for matins.\"\n\n\"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?\"\n\n\"By the hand of Heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed it on you\nagain. Think on it! Hast tried the world and found its gall. Now try the\nChurch! The Church is peace. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nHe was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till weak and\nwearied he fell into a doze", "this they gave Gerard. Then\nsupper, and after it the old monk carried Gerard to his cell, and they\nhad an eager chat, and the friar incidentally revealed the cause of\nhis pantomime in the corridor. \"Ye had well-nigh fallen into Brother\nJerome's clutches. Yon was his cell.\"\n\n\"Is Father Jerome an ill man, then?\"\n\n\"An ill man!\" and the friar crossed himself; \"a saint, an anchorite, the\nvery pillar of this house! He had sent", "'s journey so as to lie\nat some peaceful monastery; then suddenly breaking off and looking as\nsharp as a needle at Gerard, he asked him how long since he had been\nshriven? Gerard coloured up and replied feebly--\n\n\"Better than a fortnight.\"\n\n\"And thou an exorcist! No wonder perils have overtaken thee. Come, thou\nmust be assoiled out of hand.\"\n\n\"Yes, father,\" said Gerard, \"and with all mine heart;\" and was sinking\ndown to his knees,", ", softened by\nsaving the life he was paid to take, turned from the stiletto to the\nporter's knot. The princess went barefoot to Loretto, weeping her crime\nand washing the feet of base-born men.\n\nAnd Gerard, carried from the Tiber into that convent a suicide, now\npassed for a young saint within its walls.\n\nLoving but experienced eyes were on him.\n\nUpon a shorter probation than usual he was admitted to priest's orders.\n\nAnd soon after took the monastic vows, and became", ".\n\nThe good father had only reached the convent the night before last.\nGerard recognized him in a moment, and cried to him, \"Oh, Father Anselm,\nyou cured my wounded body in Juliers: now cure my hurt soul in Rome!\nAlas, you cannot.\"\n\nAnselm sat down by the bedside, and putting a gentle hand on his head,\nfirst calmed him with a soothing word or two.\n\nHe then (for he had learned how Gerard came there) spoke to him kindly\nbut solemnly, and made", "; and call me not a priest, for a priest I will never be. I will\ndie sooner.\"\n\n\"That we shall see, young man. Come, gainsay me no more; you will learn\nwhat 'tis to disrespect a father.\"\n\nGerard held his peace, and the three walked home in gloomy silence,\nbroken only by a deep sigh or two from Catherine.\n\nFrom that hour the little house at Tergou was no longer the abode of\npeace. Gerard was taken to task next day before the whole family; and\nevery voice was", "his jerkin as he went.\n\nBut as they hurried along, he asked her what on earth she meant? \"I talk\nof this friar, and you answer me of Gerard.\"\n\n\"Man, see you not, this is Gerard!\"\n\n\"This, Gerard? what mean ye?\"\n\n\"I mean, yon friar is my boy's father. I have waited for him long,\nJorian. Well, he is come to me at last. And thank God for it. Oh, my\npoor child! Quicker, Jorian", "Gerard's silence he had convinced him, and not dreaming how\nprofoundly he had disgusted him.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nIn the refectory allusion was made, at the table where Gerard sat,\nto the sudden death of the monk who had undertaken to write out fresh\ncopies of the charter of the monastery, and the rule, etc.\n\nGerard caught this, and timidly offered his services. There was a\nhesitation which he mistook. \"Nay, not for hire, my lords, but", "\nwith tears in his eyes the Cause of Gerard's illness, all his contempt\nrevived. \"Dying for a woman?\"\n\nHe determined to avert this scandal; he visited Clement twice a day\nin his cell, and tried all his old influence and all his eloquence to\ninduce him to shake off this unspiritual despondency, and not rob the\nchurch of his piety and his eloquence at so critical a period.\n\nGerard heard him, approved his reasoning, admired his strength,\nconfessed his own", "ats and owls? Hast buried it in one hole with\nthyself and thy once good wits?\n\n\"The Dominicans are the friars preachers. 'Tis for preaching they were\nfounded, so thou art false to Dominic as well as to his Master.\n\n\"Do you remember, Gerard, when we were young together, which now are old\nbefore our time, as we walked handed in the fields, did you but see a\nsheep cast, ay, three fields off, you would leave your sweetheart (by\nher good will) and", "not Gerard but--Vacancy. \"This one toy finished, vigils,\nfasts, and prayers for me; prayers standing, prayers lying on the chapel\nfloor, and prayers in a right good tub of cold water.\" He nudged Gerard\nand winked his eye knowingly. \"Nothing he hates and dreads like seeing\nus monks at our orisons up to our chins in cold water. For corpus domat\naqua. So now go confess thy little trumpery sins, pardonable in youth\nand secularity, and leave me", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", ".\nAt first he was absorbed in curing abuses, and tightening the general\ndiscipline; but one day hearing the vicar of Gouda had entered the\nconvent as a novice, he said, \"'Tis well; let him first give up his\nvicarage then, or go; I'll no fat parsons in my house.\" The prior then\nsent for Gerard, and he went to him; and the moment they saw one another\nthey both started.\n\n\"Clement!\"\n\n\"Jerome!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X", ", the low, solemn tones of the friar\nfell upon her ear, and his words soon made her whole body quiver with\nvarious emotion, in quick succession.\n\n\"My daughter, he you murdered--in intent--was one Gerard, a Hollander.\nHe loved a creature, as men should love none but their Redeemer and His\nChurch. Heaven chastised him. A letter came to Rome. She was dead.\"\n\n\"Poor Gerard! Poor Margaret!\" moaned the penitent.\n\nClement's voice", "; poor\nfeeble, loving servant, thy shortcomings are forgiven, thy sorrows touch\nthine end; come thou to thy rest!' I come, Lord, I come!\"\n\nJerome groaned. \"The Church had ever her holy but feeble servants,\" he\nsaid. \"Now would I give ten years of my life to save thine. But I see it\nmay not be. Die in peace.\"\n\nAnd so it was that in a few days more Gerard lay a-dying in a frame\nof mind so holy and happy, that more than one aged", "it the lay nobles and their arrogance, saving your presence.\"\n\n\"Nay, sir, I honour the Church. I am convent bred, and owe all I have\nand am to Holy Church.\"\n\n\"Ah, that accounts for my sudden liking to thee. Art a gracious youth.\nCome and see me whenever thou wilt.\"\n\nGerard took this as a hint that he might go now. It jumped with his own\nwish, for he was curious to hear what Denys had seen and done all this\ntime. He made his reverence and walked out", "\n\nHis old landlady who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the stair, heard\nthe raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.\n\nShe found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.\n\nShe remonstrated.\n\n\"What avails my lying here?\" said he gloomily. \"Can I find here that\nwhich I seek?\"\n\n\"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?\"\n\n\"Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so" ], [ "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", ", thou wert like me no one was left\nthat loved thee, when Gerard was gone.\"\n\nHe went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long and\nearnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not find.\n\nComing out of the church he saw a very old man looking over the little\nchurchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him did he live in the\nplace.\n\n\"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here every day\nof late, holy father, to take", ", and her image\nmolested him no more. But he caught himself sighing at his victory.\n\nThe birds got tamer and tamer, they perched upon his hand. Two of them\nlet him gild their little claws. Eating but once in two days he had more\nto give them.\n\nHis tranquility was not to last long.\n\nA woman's voice came in from the outside, told him his own story in a\nvery few words, and asked him to tell her where Gerard was to be found.\n\nHe was so astounded he", "bade him farewell. \"Day breaks,\" said he; \"I must\nprepare for matins.\"\n\n\"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?\"\n\n\"By the hand of Heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed it on you\nagain. Think on it! Hast tried the world and found its gall. Now try the\nChurch! The Church is peace. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nHe was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till weak and\nwearied he fell into a doze", ", softened by\nsaving the life he was paid to take, turned from the stiletto to the\nporter's knot. The princess went barefoot to Loretto, weeping her crime\nand washing the feet of base-born men.\n\nAnd Gerard, carried from the Tiber into that convent a suicide, now\npassed for a young saint within its walls.\n\nLoving but experienced eyes were on him.\n\nUpon a shorter probation than usual he was admitted to priest's orders.\n\nAnd soon after took the monastic vows, and became", "way to look at these things when once they\nare past, why, they are dreams, shadows. Break thy fast, and then thou\nwilt think no more on't. Moreover, I promised to bring thee on to the\ntown by noon, and take thee to his worship.\"\n\nGerard then sopped some rye bread in red wine and ate it to break his\nfast: then went with Denys over the scene of combat, and came back\nshuddering, and finally took the road with his friend, and kept peering\nthrough the hedges, and expecting sudden attacks", "Gerard,\nas he lay tranquil, and gazed calmly at the ceiling, and trickled into\nwords.\n\n\"First, venerable sir, I thank you for coming to see me, whether from\nhumanity, or in the way of honest gain; all trades must live.\n\n\"Your learning, reverend sir, seems great, to me at least, and for your\nexperience, your age voucheth it.\n\n\"You say you have bled many, and of these many, many have not died\nthereafter, but lived, and done", "-strings. One anxiety he\nnever affected to conceal. \"If I but knew where the boy is, and that his\nlife and health are in no danger, small would be my care,\" would he say;\nand then a deep sigh would follow. I cannot help thinking that if Gerard\nhad opened the door just then, and walked in, there would have been many\ntears and embraces for him, and few reproaches, or none.\n\nOne thing took the old couple quite by surprise--publicity. Ere Gerard\nhad been gone a week, his adventures were in every", "Gerard, for answer, flung his arms round Denys's neck in silence.\n\n\"Look here,\" whined the stout soldier, affected by this little gush of\nnature and youth, \"was ever aught so like a woman? I love thee, little\nmilksop--go to. Good! behold him on his knees now. What new caprice is\nthis?\"\n\n\"Oh, Denys, ought we not to return thanks to Him who has saved both our\nlives against such fearful odds?\" And Gerard kneeled, and prayed al", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "poor deserted child, you and I are\nwading in deep waters.\"\n\nShe applied at least half this modest, but useful supply, to dressing\nthe little Gerard beyond his station in life. \"If it does come from\nGerard, he shall see his boy neat.\" All the mothers in the street began\nto sneer, especially such as had brats out at elbows.\n\nThe months rolled on, and dead sickness of heart succeeded to these\nkeener torments. She returned to her first thought: \"Gerard must be\ndead. She should never see her", ".\n\n\"Ah, thou wouldst sleep,\" said the miscreant eagerly. \"I go.\" And he\nretired on tip-toe with a promise to come every day.\n\nGerard lay with his eyes closed: not asleep, but deeply pondering.\n\nSaved from death, by an assassin\n\nWas not this the finger of Heaven?\n\nOf that Heaven he had insulted, cursed, and defied.\n\nHe shuddered at his blasphemies. He tried to pray.\n\nHe found he could utter prayers. But he", "could only say, with an instinct of self-defence,\n\"Pray for the soul of Gerard the son of Eli!\" meaning that he was dead\nto the world. And he sat wondering.\n\nWhen the woman was gone, he determined, after an inward battle, to risk\nbeing seen, and he peeped after her to see who it could be; but he took\nso many precautions, and she ran so quickly back to her friend, that the\nroad was clear.\n\n\"Satan!\" said he directly.\n\nAnd that night back came his visions of", "\n\nHis old landlady who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the stair, heard\nthe raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.\n\nShe found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.\n\nShe remonstrated.\n\n\"What avails my lying here?\" said he gloomily. \"Can I find here that\nwhich I seek?\"\n\n\"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?\"\n\n\"Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so", "'s hand and Gerard's, And they all supped together,\nand went to their beds with hearts warm as a toast; and the broken\nsoldier was at peace, and in his own house, and under his comrade's\nwing.\n\nHis natural gaiety returned, and he resumed his consigne after eight\nyears' disuse, and hobbled about the place enlivening it; but offended\nthe parish mortally by calling the adored vicar comrade, and nothing but\ncomrade.\n\nWhen they made a fuss about this to", "told her this unexpected trait in her Gerard. He\ncontinued, \"And even with that he bade me farewell.\n\n\"'My work here is done now,' said he. I had not the heart to stay him;\nfor let him forgive me ever so, the sight of me must be wormwood to\nhim. He left me in peace, and may a dying man's blessing wait on him, go\nwhere he will. Oh, girl, when I think of his wrongs, and thine, and how\nhe hath avenged himself by saving this stained soul of", "to Rotterdam. Sevenbergen was too hot for him.\n\nGerard, severed from her he loved, went like one in a dream. He hired a\nhorse and a guide at the little hostelry, and rode swiftly towards the\nGerman frontier. But all was mechanical; his senses felt blunted; trees\nand houses and men moved by him like objects seen through a veil. His\ncompanions spoke to him twice, but he did not answer. Only once he cried\nout savagely, \"Shall we never be out of this hateful country", "and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, to\nhealth and beauty, by swift gradations; to see the roses return to the\nloved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye, and his words to the loved\nmouth--this was Margaret's--a joy to balance years of sorrow. It\nwas Gerard's to awake from a trance, and find his head pillowed on\nMargaret's arm; to hear the woman he adored murmur new words of eloquent\nlove, and shower tears and tender kisses and ca", "thee in just homage. Thy picture is immortal, and\nthou, that hast but a chest to sit on, art a king in thy most royal art.\nViva, il maestro! Viva!\"\n\nAt this unexpected burst the painter, with all the abandon of his\nnation, flung himself on Gerard's neck. \"They said it was a maniac's\ndream,\" he sobbed.\n\n\"Maniacs themselves! no, idiots!\" shouted Gerard.\n\n\"Generous stranger! I will hate men no more since" ], [ ".\n\nThe good father had only reached the convent the night before last.\nGerard recognized him in a moment, and cried to him, \"Oh, Father Anselm,\nyou cured my wounded body in Juliers: now cure my hurt soul in Rome!\nAlas, you cannot.\"\n\nAnselm sat down by the bedside, and putting a gentle hand on his head,\nfirst calmed him with a soothing word or two.\n\nHe then (for he had learned how Gerard came there) spoke to him kindly\nbut solemnly, and made", "Gerard, yielding.\n\n\"I'll cheer you, mon gars.\"\n\n\"I think you would,\" said Gerard sweetly; \"and sore need have I of a\nkindly voice in mine ear this day.\"\n\n\"Oh! no soul is sad alongside me. I lift up their poor little hearts\nwith my consigne: 'Courage, tout le monde, le diable est mort.' Ha! ha!\"\n\n\"So be it, then,\" said Gerard. \"But take back your belt, for I could\nnever trust by halves. We will go", "bade him farewell. \"Day breaks,\" said he; \"I must\nprepare for matins.\"\n\n\"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?\"\n\n\"By the hand of Heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed it on you\nagain. Think on it! Hast tried the world and found its gall. Now try the\nChurch! The Church is peace. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nHe was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till weak and\nwearied he fell into a doze", "and I'm Gerard's comrade and it is a rule with us soldiers not\nto tell the enemy aught--but lies.\"\n\nCatherine sighed, but made no answer.\n\nThe adventures he related cost them a tumult of agitation and grief, and\nsore they wept at the parting of the friends, which even now Denys could\nnot tell without faltering. But at last all merged in the joyful hope\nand expectation of Gerard's speedy return. In this Denys confidently\nshared; but reminded them that was no reason why he should", "\nwith tears in his eyes the Cause of Gerard's illness, all his contempt\nrevived. \"Dying for a woman?\"\n\nHe determined to avert this scandal; he visited Clement twice a day\nin his cell, and tried all his old influence and all his eloquence to\ninduce him to shake off this unspiritual despondency, and not rob the\nchurch of his piety and his eloquence at so critical a period.\n\nGerard heard him, approved his reasoning, admired his strength,\nconfessed his own", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "could only say, with an instinct of self-defence,\n\"Pray for the soul of Gerard the son of Eli!\" meaning that he was dead\nto the world. And he sat wondering.\n\nWhen the woman was gone, he determined, after an inward battle, to risk\nbeing seen, and he peeped after her to see who it could be; but he took\nso many precautions, and she ran so quickly back to her friend, that the\nroad was clear.\n\n\"Satan!\" said he directly.\n\nAnd that night back came his visions of", "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", "Gerard, for answer, flung his arms round Denys's neck in silence.\n\n\"Look here,\" whined the stout soldier, affected by this little gush of\nnature and youth, \"was ever aught so like a woman? I love thee, little\nmilksop--go to. Good! behold him on his knees now. What new caprice is\nthis?\"\n\n\"Oh, Denys, ought we not to return thanks to Him who has saved both our\nlives against such fearful odds?\" And Gerard kneeled, and prayed al", "and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, to\nhealth and beauty, by swift gradations; to see the roses return to the\nloved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye, and his words to the loved\nmouth--this was Margaret's--a joy to balance years of sorrow. It\nwas Gerard's to awake from a trance, and find his head pillowed on\nMargaret's arm; to hear the woman he adored murmur new words of eloquent\nlove, and shower tears and tender kisses and ca", "It's my belief my man knows more about your Gerard\nthan anybody in these parts; but he has got to be closer than ever of\nlate. Drop in some day just afore sunset, and set him talking. And for\nour Lady's sake say not I set you on. The only hiding he ever gave me\nwas for babbling his business; and I do not want another. Gramercy! I\nmarried a man for the comfort of the thing, not to be hided.\"\n\nCatherine dropped in. Jorian was ready enough to tell her how he had\n", ", thou wert like me no one was left\nthat loved thee, when Gerard was gone.\"\n\nHe went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long and\nearnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not find.\n\nComing out of the church he saw a very old man looking over the little\nchurchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him did he live in the\nplace.\n\n\"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here every day\nof late, holy father, to take", "Gerard,\nas he lay tranquil, and gazed calmly at the ceiling, and trickled into\nwords.\n\n\"First, venerable sir, I thank you for coming to see me, whether from\nhumanity, or in the way of honest gain; all trades must live.\n\n\"Your learning, reverend sir, seems great, to me at least, and for your\nexperience, your age voucheth it.\n\n\"You say you have bled many, and of these many, many have not died\nthereafter, but lived, and done", "Denys came close to him, and peered in his\nface, and devoured every feature; and when he was sure it was really\nGerard, he uttered a cry so vehement it brought the women running from\nthe house, and fell upon Gerard's neck, and kissed him again and again,\nand sank on his knees, and laughed and sobbed with joy so terribly,\nthat Gerard mourned his folly in doing dramas. But the women with their\ngentle soothing ways soon composed the brave fellow, and he sat smiling,\nand holding Margaret", "for now first she learned that Gerard was all\nalone in that strange land. She could not think with Denys that he would\ncome home; indeed he would have arrived before this.\n\nDenys was a balm. He called her his she-comrade, and was always cheering\nher up with his formula and hilarities, and she petted him and made\nmuch of him, and feebly hectored it over him as well as over Martin, and\nwould not let him eat a single meal out of her house, and forbade him to\nuse naught", "elling above all on the\nkindness to her of his parents; and while she related her troubles, his\nhand stole to hers, and often she felt him wince and tremble with ire,\nand often press her hand, sympathizing with her in every vein.\n\n\"Oh, piteous tale of a true heart battling alone against such bitter\nodds,\" said he.\n\n\"It all seems small, when I see thee here again, and nursing my boy. We\nhave had a warning, Gerard. True friends like you and me are rare, and\nthey", "\nthey had come.\n\nGerard lay aching and smarting; and to him Rome, that seemed so near at\nstarting, looked far, far off, now that he was two hundred miles nearer\nit. But soon all his thoughts turned Sevenbergen-wards. How sweet it\nwould be one day to hold Margaret's hand, and tell her all he had gone\nthrough for her! The very thought of it, and her, soothed him; and in\nthe midst of pain and irritation of the nerves be lay resigned, and\nsweetly, though faint", "s, seemed now to be clearing; he had intervals of intelligence; and\nthen he and Margaret used to talk of Gerard, till he wandered again. But\none day, returning after an absence of some hours, Margaret found\nhim conversing with Catherine, in a way he had never done since his\nparalytic stroke. \"Eh, girl, why must you be out?\" said she. \"But\nindeed I have told him all; and we have been a-crying together over thy\ntroubles.\"\n\nMargaret stood silent, looking joyfully from one to the", ". But he sees Gerard's\nfolk coming around ye, and good friends, and he said only last night--\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"He made me vow not to tell ye.\"\n\n\"Prithee, tell me.\"\n\n\"Well, he said: 'An' if I tell what little I know, it won't bring\nhim back, and it will set them all by the ears. I wish I had more\nheadpiece,' said he; 'I am sore perplexed. But least said is soonest\nmended.' Yon is his favourite" ], [ "He borrowed a good horse, and scarce drew rein till he reached\nDeventer, quite late in the afternoon. He went at once to the school.\nThe boy had been taken away.\n\nAs he left the school he caught sight of Margaret's face at the window\nof a neighbouring house she always lodged at when she came to Deventer.\n\nHe ran hastily to scold her and pack both her and the boy out of the\nplace.\n\nTo his surprise the servant told him with some hesitation that Margaret\nhad been there, but was gone.\n\n", "rage, and shouted, \"Stand clear, and let me get\nat the traitors, I'll hang for them,\" And in a moment he whipped out his\nshort sword, and fell upon them.\n\n\"Fly!\" screamed Margaret. \"Fly!\"\n\nThey slipped howling under the table, and crawled out the other side.\n\nBut ere they could get to the door, the furious old man ran round and\nintercepted them. Catherine only screamed and wrung her hands; your\nnotables are generally useless at such a time; and blood would certainly\nhave flow", ", and their leaves like a\nscreen.\n\nBut an unforeseen danger attacked them. The fiery old burgomaster flung\nhimself on his mule, and, spurring him to a gallop, he headed not his\nown men only, but the fugitives. His object was to cut them off. The\nold man came galloping in a semicircle, and got on the edge of the wood,\nright in front of Gerard; the others might escape for aught he cared.\n\nMargaret shrieked, and tried to protect", "ed, but Margaret and Jorian seized the fiery old man's arms,\nand held them with all their might, whilst the pair got clear of the\nhouse; then they let him go; and he went vainly raging after them out\ninto the street.\n\nThey were a furlong off, running like hares.\n\nHe hacked down the board on which their names were written, and brought\nit indoors, and flung it into the chimney-place. Catherine was sitting\nrocking herself with her apron over her head. Joan had run to her\n", "fell heavily upon the ground, where he\nlay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.\n\n\"Hist, Martin! Martin!\"\n\nMartin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, \"Now fly!\nfly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved.\"\n\nAt this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,\nMargaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly\nfrom loss of blood.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved, fly!\" she gas", "the woman you knew her;\nher children's troubles have greatly broken the brisk, light-hearted\nsoul. And I see she has been weeping e'en now; she will have given thee\nup, being so late.\"\n\n\"Let me get to her,\" said Clement hastily, trembling all over.\n\n\"That door! I will bide here.\"\n\nWhen Gerard was gone to the door, Margaret, fearing the sudden surprise,\ngave one sharp tap at the window and cried, \"Mother!\" in a loud,\nexpressive voice", ". Ah! here comes the\nyoung fool.\"\n\nCatherine trembled, and held her husband's hand tight.\n\nThe moon was bright, but they were in the shadow of some trees, and\ntheir son did not see them. He came singing in the moonlight, and his\nface shining.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nWhile the burgomaster was exposing Gerard at Tergou, Margaret had a\ntrouble of her own at Sevenbergen. It was a housewife's distress, but\ndeeper than we can well conceive.", "here.\"\n\nHe then ran off, lest by staying longer he should excite suspicion,\nand have them all after him. And Margaret knelt, quivering from head to\nfoot, and prayed beside Gerard and for Gerard.\n\n\n\"What is to do?\" replied Jorian to Dierich Brower's query; \"why, we have\nscared the girl out of her wits. She was in a kind of fit.\"\n\n\"We had better all go and doctor her, then.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! and frighten her into the church", "\nand he shook his bloody staff.\n\n\"Boy!\" roared Martin; \"the GALLOWS! Follow me,\" and he fled into the\nwood. Soon they heard a cry like a pack of hounds opening on sight of\nthe game. The men were in the wood, and saw them flitting amongst the\ntrees. Margaret moaned and panted as she ran; and Gerard clenched his\nteeth and grasped his staff. The next minute they came to a stiff hazel\ncoppice. Martin dashed into it, and shouldered the young wood aside as\n", "\nAt this Dierich threw his arms round him from behind, and called on the\nothers to keep him. The man that had the candle got clear away, and all\nthe rest fell upon Martin, and after a long and fierce struggle, in the\ncourse of which they were more than once all rolling on the floor, with\nMartin in the middle, they succeeded in mastering the old Samson, and\nbinding him hand and foot with a rope they had brought for Gerard.\n\nMartin groaned aloud. He saw the man had made his way to Margaret's room\nduring", "ides a bit ere we go.\"\n\nA blazing fire was soon made, and the men gathered round it, and their\nclothes and long hair were soon smoking from the cheerful blaze. Then it\nwas that the shrieks were heard in Margaret's room. They all started up,\nand one of them seized the candle and ran up the steps that led to the\nbedrooms.\n\nMartin rose hastily too, and being confused by these sudden screams, and\napprehending danger from the man's curiosity, tried to prevent him from\ngoing there.\n", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", ".\n\n\"Hush, girl!\" said Martin, in a stern whisper.\n\nA heavy knock fell on the door.\n\nAnd on the hearts within.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nAs if this had been a concerted signal, the back door was struck as\nrudely the next instant. They were hemmed in. But at these alarming\nsounds Margaret seemed to recover some share of self-possession. She\nwhispered, \"Say he was here, but is gone.\" And with this she seized\nGerard and almost dragged him up the rude steps", "he is a priest, and can do no better. But you are not a priest.\nHe has got his parish, and his heart is in that. Bethink thee! Time\nflies; overstay not thy market. Wouldst not like to have three or four\nmore little darlings about thy knee now they have robbed thee of poor\nlittle Gerard, and sent him to yon nasty school?\" And so she worked upon\na mind already irritated.\n\nMargaret had many suitors ready to marry her at a word or even a\nlook, and among", "saw that at once, and left the\ndoor, and came to the foot-stair and listened.\n\nHe began to think Gerard must have escaped by the window while all the\nmen were in the house. The longer the silence continued, the stronger\ngrew this conviction. But it was suddenly and rudely dissipated.\n\nFaint cries issued from the inner bedroom--Margaret's.\n\n\"They have taken him,\" groaned Martin; \"they have got him.\"\n\nIt now flashed across Martin's mind that if they took Gerard away, his", "Margaret, I am\nashamed of you.\"\n\n\"You are a cruel, hard-hearted woman,\" sobbed Margaret.\n\n\"Them as take in hand to guide the weak need be hardish. And you will\nexcuse me; but you are not my flesh and blood; and your boy is.\"\n\nAfter giving this blunt speech time to sink, she added, \"Come now, she\nis robbing her own to save yours, and you can think of nothing better\nthan bursting out a-blubbering in the woman's face. Out fie,", "leagues from hence, and\nput thee under my own mother's wing, ere they shall hurt a hair o' thy\nhead. But first Gerard. Stay thou here whilst I fetch him!\"\n\nAs he was darting off, the girl seized him convulsively, and with all\nthe iron strength excitement lends to women. \"Stay me not! for pity's\nsake,\" he cried; \"'tis life or death.\"\n\n\"Sh!--sh!\" whispered the girl, shutting his mouth hard with her hand,\nand putting her pale lips close to him,", "\nthere was a shrewd boy of nine years, instead of learning to work\nand obey, playing about and learning selfishness from their infinite\nunselfishness, and tyrannizing with a rod of iron over two women, both\nof them sagacious and spirited, but reduced by their fondness for him to\nthe exact level of idiots.\n\nGerard saw this with pain, and interfered with mild but firm\nremonstrance; and after a considerable struggle prevailed, and got\nlittle Gerard sent to the best school in Europe, kept by one Ha", ",\" cried Margaret vehemently; \"I am sorry I sent for\nyou. Would you rob me of the only bit of comfort I have in the world?\nA-nursing my Gerard, I forget I am the most unhappy creature beneath the\nsun.\"\n\n\"That you do not,\" was the retort, \"or he would not be the way he is.\"\n\n\"Mother!\" said Margaret imploringly.\n\n\"'Tis hard,\" replied Catherine, relenting. \"But bethink thee; would it\nnot be harder to look down and see his", "\n\nGerard hung his head.\n\n\"We take him to Rotterdam to abide the sentence of the Duke.\"\n\nAt this Margaret uttered a cry of despair, and the young creatures, who\nwere so happy a moment ago, fell to sobbing in one another's arms so\npiteously, that the instruments of oppression drew back a step and were\nashamed; but one of them that was good-natured stepped up under pretence\nof separating them, and whispered to Margaret:\n\n\"Rotterdam? it is a lie. We but take him" ], [ ".\"\n\n\"Bless thee, Giles,\" murmured Margaret softly.\n\n\"Thou wast ever his stanch friend, dear Giles,\" said little Kate; \"but\nalack, I know not what thou canst do for him now.\"\n\nGiles had left them, and all was sad and silent again, when a\nwell-dressed man opened the door softly, and asked was Margaret Brandt\nhere.\n\n\"D'ye hear, lass? You are wanted,\" said Catherine briskly. In her the\nGossip was indestructible.\n\n", ".\n\nNow Margaret Van Eyck had been wonderfully kind to Margaret Brandt; had\nbroken through her own habits to go and see her; had nursed her, and\nsoothed her, and petted her, and cured her more than all the medicine in\nthe world. So her heart opened to the recipient of her goodness, and she\nloved her now far more tenderly than she had ever loved Gerard, though,\nin truth, it was purely out of regard for Gerard she had visited her in\nthe first instance.\n\nWhen, therefore, she saw", "saluted them civilly. They stood and\nlooked at him; Kate with some little surprise, but Catherine with a\ngreat deal, and with rising indignation.\n\n\"What makes you here?\" was Catherine's greeting.\n\n\"I came to seek after Margaret.\"\n\n\"Well, we know no such person.\"\n\n\"Say not so, dame; sure you know her by name, Margaret Brandt.\"\n\n\"We have heard of her for that matter--to our cost.\"\n\n\"Comes, dame, prithee tell me at", "Oh! oh! oh!\"\n\n\"This is strange! But the fiery-headed thing? Yet it was with you, and\nyou are harmless! But why are you here at this time of night?\"\n\n\"Nay, why are YOU?\"\n\n\"Perhaps we are on the same errand? Ah! you are his good sister, Kate!\"\n\n\"And you are Margaret Brandt.\"\n\n\"Yes.\n\n\"All the better. You love him; you are here. Then Giles was right. He\nhas won free.\"\n\nGerard came forward,", "in dead silence.\n\nA little muttering was heard outside; Denys's rough organ and a woman's\nsoft and mellow voice.\n\nPresently that stopped; and then the door opened slowly, and Margaret\nBrandt, dressed as I have described, and somewhat pale, but calm and\nlovely, stood on the threshold, looking straight before her.\n\nThey all rose but Kate, and remained mute and staring.\n\n\"Be seated, mistress,\" said Eli gravely, and motioned to a seat that had\nbeen set apart for her.\n\n", "ly up, livid with fury and despair, and rushed\nheadlong from the place with both hands clenched and raised on high.\nSo terrible was this inarticulate burst of fury, that Jorian's puny ire\ndied out at sight of it, and he stood looking dismayed after the human\ntempest he had launched.\n\nWhile thus absorbed he felt his arm grasped by a small, tremulous hand.\n\nIt was Margaret Brandt.\n\nHe started; her coming there just then seemed so strange. She had waited\nlong on Peter", "to Margaret Brandt,\nCatherine's eyes dried, and her lips turned to half the size, and she\nlooked as only obstinate, ignorant women can look. When they put on\nthis cast of features, you might as well attempt to soften or convince a\nbrick wall. Margaret Van Eyck tried, but all in vain. So then, not being\nherself used to be thwarted, she got provoked, and at last went out\nhastily with an abrupt and mutilated curtsey, which Catherine, returned\nwith an air rather of defiance than", "was an evergreen. She loved her young namesake with\nyouthful ardour. Nor was this new sentiment a mere caprice; she was\nquick at reading character, and saw in Margaret Brandt that which in\none of her own sex goes far with an intelligent woman; genuineness. But,\nbesides her own sterling qualities, Margaret had from the first a potent\nally in the old artist's bosom.\n\nHuman nature.\n\nStrange as it may appear to the unobservant, our hearts warm more\nreadily to those we have benefited than", ", you look wondrous pale, and now you are\nred, and now you are white? Why, what is the matter? What, in Heaven's\nname, is the matter?\"\n\n\"The surprise--the joy--the wonder--the fear,\" gasped Clement.\n\n\"Why, what is it to thee? Art thou of kin to Margaret Brandt?\"\n\n\"Nay; but I knew one that loved her well, so well her death nigh killed\nhim, body and soul. And yet thou sayest she lives. And I believe thee.\"\n\nJ", "to blame but Margaret Brandt.\"\n\nA resolute woman is a very resolute thing. And there was a deep, dogged\ndetermination in Margaret's voice and brow that at once convinced\nCatherine it would be idle to put any more questions at that time,\nShe and Reicht lost themselves in conjectures; and Catherine whispered\nReicht, \"Bide quiet; then 'twill leak out;\" a shrewd piece of advice,\nfounded on general observation.\n\nWithin an hour Catherine was on the road to Gouda in a cart, with two\nst", "all her\nproperty, after her funeral expenses and certain presents to Reicht\nHeynes, to her dear daughter Margaret Brandt, requesting her to keep\nReicht as long as unmarried.\n\nBy this will Margaret inherited a furnished house, and pictures and\nsketches that in the present day would be a fortune: among the pictures\nwas one she valued more than a gallery of others.\n\nIt represented \"A Betrothal.\" The solemnity of the ceremony was marked\nin the grave face of the man, and the demure complacency of the woman.\n", "of me, Denys of Burgundy?\"\n\n\"He hath writ, but three lines, and named not Denys of Burgundy, nor any\nstranger.\"\n\n\"Ay, I mind the long letter was to his sweetheart, this Margaret, and\nshe has decamped, plague take her, and how I am to find her Heaven\nknows.\"\n\n\"What, she is not your sweetheart then?\"\n\n\"Who, dame? an't please you.\"\n\n\"Why, Margaret Brandt.\"\n\n\"How can my comrade's", ", she whispered to Kate, \"Keep the house from going to pieces, an\nye can;\" and donned her best kirtle and hood, and her scarlet clocked\nhose and her new shoes, and trudged briskly off to Sevenbergen,\ntroubling no man's mule.\n\nWhen she got there she inquired where Margaret Brandt lived. The first\nperson she asked shook his head, and said--\"The name is strange to me.\"\nShe went a little farther and asked a girl of about fifteen who was\nstanding at a door. \"", "ys thought. He was relieved from service\nnext day, and though his wound was no trifle, set out with a stout heart\nto rejoin his friend in Holland.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII\n\nA change came over Margaret Brandt. She went about her household duties\nlike one in a dream. If Peter did but speak a little quickly to her, she\nstarted and fixed two terrified eyes on him. She went less often to her\nfriend Margaret Van Eyck, and was ill at her ease when there. Instead of\nmeeting her warm old friend's ca", "ry, drinking.\"\n\n\"Well, keep him drinking! We will see, we will see.\" And he sent them\noff discomfited.\n\nTo explain all this we must retrograde a step. This very morning then,\nMargaret Brandt had met Jorian Ketel near her own door. He passed her\nwith a scowl. This struck her, and she remembered him.\n\n\"Stay,\" said she. \"Yes! it is the good man who saved him. Oh! why\nhave you not been near me since? And why have you not come for", "\nAmong strangers Margaret Brandt was comparatively happy. And soon a new\nand unexpected cause of content arose. A civic dignitary being ill, and\nfanciful in proportion, went from doctor to doctor; and having arrived\nat death's door, sent for Peter. Peter found him bled and purged to\nnothing. He flung a battalion of bottles out of window, and left it\nopen; beat up yolks of eggs in neat Schiedam, and administered it in\nsmall doses; followed this up by meat stewed in red wine and water", "I know no more than that he came hither seeking Margaret Brandt,\nand I told him she and her father had made a moonlight flit on't this\nday sennight, and that some thought the devil had flown away with them,\nbeing magicians. 'And,' says he, 'the devil fly away with thee for thy\nill news;' that was my thanks. 'But I doubt 'tis a lie,' said he. 'An\nyou think so,' said I, 'go and see.' 'I will,' said he, and burst out\nwi' a h", "\"What does that mean? Ah!\"\n\n\"'To my sister Kate. Little angel of my father's house. Be kind to\nher--' Ah!\"\n\n\"That is Margaret Brandt, my dear--his sweetheart, poor soul. I've not\nbeen kind to her, my dear. Forgive me, Gerard!\"\n\n\"'--for poor Gerard's sake: since grief to her is death to me--Ah!\"\nAnd nature, resenting the poor girl's struggle for unnatural composure,\nsuddenly gave way, and she sank", "itence only a sentiment.\n\nMatters were thus when, one day, returning from the town hall to his own\nhouse, he found a woman waiting for him in the vestibule, with a child\nin her arms. She was veiled, and so, concluding she had something to\nbe ashamed of, he addressed her magisterially, On this she let down her\nveil and looked him full in the face.\n\nIt was Margaret Brandt.\n\nHer sudden appearance and manner startled him, and he could not conceal\nhis confusion.\n\n\"Where is my", "name be but Margaret\nBrandt's.\n\nWith all her affection for Margaret, this went through poor Catherine\nlike a knife. \"The bane of one is another's meat,\" said she.\n\n\"Can he make me spend the money unjustly?\" replied Margaret coldly.\n\n\"You are a good soul,\" said Catherine. \"Ay, so best, sith he is the\nstrongest.\"\n\nThe next day Giles dropped in, and Catherine told the story all in\nfavour of the black sheep, and invited his pity for them, anathemat" ], [ ". \"Oh, that man! that man!\"\n\n\"Nay, fear me not,\" said Ghysbrecht; \"I come on a friend's errand. I\nbring ye a letter from foreign parts.\"\n\n\"Mock me not, old man,\" and she turned slowly round.\n\n\"Nay, see;\" and he held out an enormous letter.\n\nMargaret darted on it, and held it with trembling hands and glistening\neyes. It was Gerard's handwriting.\n\n\"Oh, thank you, sir, bless you for", "news of Gerard?\" said he eagerly.\n\nThen they told about the letter and Hans Memling. He listened with\nrestless eye. \"Who writ the letter?\"\n\n\"Margaret Van Eyck,\" was the reply; for they naturally thought the\ncontents were by the same hand as the superscription.\n\n\"Are ye sure?\" And he went to a drawer and drew out a paper written by\nMargaret Van Eyck while treating with the burgh for her house. \"Was it\nwrit like this?\"\n\n\"Yes. 'Tis the same writing,\" said", "lemish provinces, and soldiers were ordered thither from all parts of\nBurgundy. \"Indeed, I marvelled to see thy face turned this way.\n\n\"I go to embrace my folk that I have not seen these three years. Ye can\nquell a bit of a rising without me I trow.\"\n\nSuddenly Denys gave a start. \"Dost hear Gerard? this comrade is bound\nfor Holland.\"\n\n\"What then? ah, a letter! a letter to Margaret! but will he be so good,\nso kind?\"\n\nThe", "Cornelis had it on his lips to say. Gerard was most likely\nalive, But he saw his mother looking at him, and checked himself in\ntime.\n\nGhysbrecht Van Swieten, the other partner in that lie, was now a failing\nman. He saw the period fast approaching when all his wealth would drop\nfrom his body, and his misdeeds cling to his soul.\n\nToo intelligent to deceive himself entirely, he had never been free\nfrom gusts of remorse. In taking Gerard's letter to Margaret he had\ncompound", ", the low, solemn tones of the friar\nfell upon her ear, and his words soon made her whole body quiver with\nvarious emotion, in quick succession.\n\n\"My daughter, he you murdered--in intent--was one Gerard, a Hollander.\nHe loved a creature, as men should love none but their Redeemer and His\nChurch. Heaven chastised him. A letter came to Rome. She was dead.\"\n\n\"Poor Gerard! Poor Margaret!\" moaned the penitent.\n\nClement's voice", "he\ncould not have writ this letter, the biggest mankind had seen as yet,\nand,\" as he thought, \"the beautifullest, and most moving, and smallest\nwrit.\"\n\n\"Ay, good Master Giles,\" sighed Margaret feebly, \"he was alive. But how\nknow I what hath since befallen him? Oh, why left he Holland to go among\nstrangers fierce as lions? And why did I not drive him from me sooner\nthan part him from his own flesh and blood? Forgive me, you that are his\nmother!\"\n", "eventer, carried thither by two sailors from Hamburgh.\n\nHis heart turned cold within him. News did not gallop in those days. The\nfatal disease must have been there a long time before the tidings would\nreach Gouda. He sent a line by a messenger to Margaret, telling her that\nhe was gone to fetch little Gerard to stay at the manse a little while,\nand would she see a bed prepared, for he should be back next day. And so\nhe hoped she would not hear a word of the danger till it was all happily\nover.", "briskly on towards the\nRhine, and England.\n\nThis was the man for whom Margaret's boy lay in wait with her letter.\n\n\nTHE HEARTH\n\nAnd that letter was one of those simple, touching appeals only her sex\ncan write to those who have used them cruelly, and they love them. She\nbegan by telling him of the birth of the little boy, and the comfort he\nhad been to her in all the distress of mind his long and strange silence\nhad caused her. She described the little Gerard minutely, not forgetting\n", "\n\n\"Girl, as I stand here, he asked me whereabout you were buried in this\nchurchyard.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"I told him, nowhere, thank Heaven: you were alive and saving other folk\nfrom the churchyard.\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"Well, the long and the short is, he knew thy Gerard in Italy; and a\nletter came saying you were dead; and it broke thy poor lad's heart. Let\nme see; who was the letter written by? Oh, by the demoiselle van\nEyck. That was", "s\npocket with a very good grace. Gerard would soon be a priest. It seemed\nhard if he might not enjoy the world a little before separating himself\nfrom it for life.\n\nThe night before he went, Margaret Van Eyck asked him to take a letter\nfor her, and when he came to look at it, to his surprise he found it was\naddressed to the Princess Marie, at the Stadthouse in Rotterdam.\n\nThe day before the prizes were to be distributed, Gerard started for\nRotterdam in his holiday suit, to wit,", "Gerard?\" cried she, her bosom heaving. \"Is he alive?\"\n\n\"For aught I know,\" stammered Ghysbrecht. \"I hope so, for your sake.\nPrithee come into this room. The servants!\"\n\n\"Not a step,\" said Margaret, and she took him by the shoulder, and held\nhim with all the energy of an excited woman. \"You know the secret of\nthat which is breaking my heart. Why does not my Gerard come, nor send\na line this many months? Answer me, or all the town is like to", "\n\n\"True. Whose hand is this? sure I have seen it. I trow 'tis my dear\nfriend the demoiselle Van Eyck. Oh, then Margaret's bill will be\ninside.\" He tore it open. \"Nay, 'tis all in one writing. 'Gerard, my\nwell beloved son' (she never called me that before that I mind), 'this\nletter brings thee heavy news from one would liever send thee joyful\ntidings. Know that Margaret Brandt died in these arms on Thursday\nsennight last", ", \"And,\" said she, \"they will not\nkeep the living for him for ever. He bids fair to lose that, as well as\nbreak all our hearts.\"\n\n\"Call my servant,\" cried the burgomaster, with sudden vigour.\n\nHe sent him for a table and writing materials, and dictated letters to\nthe burgomasters in all the principal towns in Holland, and one to a\nPrussian authority, his friend. His clerk and Margaret wrote them,\nand he signed them. \"There,\" said he, \"the matter shall be despatched\n", ".' (What does the doting old woman mean by that?) 'The last\nword on her lips was \"Gerard:\" she said, \"Tell him I prayed for him at\nmy last hour; and bid him pray for me.\" She died very comfortable, and\nI saw her laid in the earth, for her father was useless, as you shall\nknow. So no more at present from her that is with sorrowing heart thy\nloving friend and servant,\n\n\"MARGARET VAN EYCK.'\"\n\n\"Ay, that is her signature sure enough. Now what", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "soldier with a torrent of blasphemy informed him he would not only\ntake it, but go a league or two out of his way to do it.\n\nIn an instant out came inkhorn and paper from Gerard's wallet; and he\nwrote a long letter to Margaret, and told her briefly what I fear I have\nspun too tediously; dwelt most on the bear, and the plunge in the Rhine,\nand the character of Denys, whom he painted to the life. And with many\nendearing expressions bade her to be of good cheer;", "Gerard's\nreward,\" and she brought a letter out of her capacious pocket.\n\nGerard threw his arm round her neck and hugged her.\n\n\"My best friend,\" said he, \"my second mother, I'll read it to you.\n\n\"Ay, do, do.\"\n\n\"Alas! it is not from Margaret. This is not her hand.\" And he turned it\nabout.\n\n\"Alack; but maybe her bill is within. The lasses are aye for gliding in\ntheir bills under cover of another hand.\"", "gone as soon as they\nwere uttered.\n\n\"The Church!\" cried Gerard, rising furiously, and shaking his fist after\nthe friar. \"Malediction on the Church! But for the Church I should\nnot lie broken here, and she lie cold, cold, cold, in Holland. Oh, my\nMargaret! oh, my darling! my darling! And I must run from thee the few\nmonths thou hadst to live. Cruel! cruel! The monsters, they let her die.\nDeath comes not without some signs. These the", "? less than I, belike. Gerard hath gone back\nt' Italy. He hates me for not being dead.\"\n\nPresently a Tergovian came in with a word from Catherine that Ghysbrecht\nVan Swieten had seen Gerard later than any one else. On this Margaret\ndetermined to go and see the house and goods that had been left her, and\ntake Reicht Heynes home to Rotterdam. And as may be supposed, her steps\ntook her first to Ghysbrecht's house. She found him in his garden,", "throughout Holland by trusty couriers, and as far as Basle in\nSwitzerland; and fear not, but we will soon have the vicar of Gouda to\nhis village.\"\n\nShe went home animated with fresh hopes, and accusing herself of\ningratitude to Gerard. \"I value my wealth now,\" said she.\n\nShe also made a resolution never to blame his conduct till she should\nhear from his own lips his reason.\n\nNot long after her return from Tergou a fresh disaster befell.\nCatherine, I must premise, had secret interviews" ], [ "'s face worked, and soon the scalding tears began to run down his\nyoung cheeks, one after another, on the paper where he was then writing\ncomfort, comfort. Then Denys rudely repulsed the curious, and asked his\ncomrade with a faltering voice whether he had the heart to let so sweet\na love-letter miscarry? The other swore by the face of St. Luke he would\nlose the forefinger of his right hand sooner.\n\nSeeing him so ready, Gerard charged him also with a short, cold letter\nto", ", they could all tell it was Gerard's handwriting.\n\n\"And your father must be away,\" cried Catherine. \"Are ye not ashamed of\nyourselves? not one that can read your brother's letter.\"\n\nBut although the words were to them what hieroglyphics are to us, there\nwas something in the letter they could read. There is an art can speak\nwithout words; unfettered by the penman's limits, it can steal through\nthe eye into the heart and brain, alike of the learned and unlearned;\nand it can cross", ". \"Oh, that man! that man!\"\n\n\"Nay, fear me not,\" said Ghysbrecht; \"I come on a friend's errand. I\nbring ye a letter from foreign parts.\"\n\n\"Mock me not, old man,\" and she turned slowly round.\n\n\"Nay, see;\" and he held out an enormous letter.\n\nMargaret darted on it, and held it with trembling hands and glistening\neyes. It was Gerard's handwriting.\n\n\"Oh, thank you, sir, bless you for", "that oozed out, he must blab that he was entrusted with a letter\nto a townsman of theirs, one Gerard, a good fellow: he added \"you are\nall good fellows:\" and to impress his eulogy, slapped Sybrandt on the\nback so heartily, as to drive the breath out of his body.\n\nSybrandt got round the table to avoid this muscular approval; but\nlistened to every word, and learned for the first time that Gerard was\ngone to Italy. However, to make sure, he affected to doubt it", "soldier with a torrent of blasphemy informed him he would not only\ntake it, but go a league or two out of his way to do it.\n\nIn an instant out came inkhorn and paper from Gerard's wallet; and he\nwrote a long letter to Margaret, and told her briefly what I fear I have\nspun too tediously; dwelt most on the bear, and the plunge in the Rhine,\nand the character of Denys, whom he painted to the life. And with many\nendearing expressions bade her to be of good cheer;", "Cornelis had it on his lips to say. Gerard was most likely\nalive, But he saw his mother looking at him, and checked himself in\ntime.\n\nGhysbrecht Van Swieten, the other partner in that lie, was now a failing\nman. He saw the period fast approaching when all his wealth would drop\nfrom his body, and his misdeeds cling to his soul.\n\nToo intelligent to deceive himself entirely, he had never been free\nfrom gusts of remorse. In taking Gerard's letter to Margaret he had\ncompound", "Gerard?\" cried she, her bosom heaving. \"Is he alive?\"\n\n\"For aught I know,\" stammered Ghysbrecht. \"I hope so, for your sake.\nPrithee come into this room. The servants!\"\n\n\"Not a step,\" said Margaret, and she took him by the shoulder, and held\nhim with all the energy of an excited woman. \"You know the secret of\nthat which is breaking my heart. Why does not my Gerard come, nor send\na line this many months? Answer me, or all the town is like to", "fully away after the\nparty. This incident had consequences no one then present foresaw. Its\nimmediate results were agreeable. The Tergovians turned proud of Giles,\nand listened with more affability to his prayers for parchment. For\nhe drove a regular trade with his brother Gerard in this article. Went\nabout and begged it gratis, and Gerard gave him coppers for it.\n\nOn the afternoon of the same day, Catherine and her daughter were\nchatting together about their favourite theme, Gerard, his goodness, his\nbenefice, and the", "Gerard. \"I will read this.\"\n\n\"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now,\" cried Margaret. \"Every moment you lose\nfills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall,\nand the clouds lower.\"\n\nGerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom,\nand threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down. While thus\nemployed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant\nthunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and", "So please you, reverend father,\" said Gerard, \"my hand it trembleth too\nmuch at this moment; but last night I wrote a vellum page of Greek, and\nthe Latin version by its side, to show the various character.\"\n\n\"Show it me?\"\n\nGerard brought the work to him in fear and trembling; then stood\nheart-sick, awaiting his verdict.\n\nWhen it came it staggered him. For the verdict was, a Dominican falling\non his neck.\n\nThe next day an event took place in Holland", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "? He looked like Gerard Eliassoen.\"\n\n\"But was he pale?\"\n\n\"A little.\"\n\n\"Looked he anxious? Looked he like one doomed?\"\n\n\"Nay, nay; as bright as a pewter pot.\"\n\n\"You mock me. Stay! then that must have been at sight of you. He counts\non us. Oh, what shall we do? Martin, good friend, take this at once to\nRotterdam.\"\n\nMartin held out his hand for the letter.\n\nPeter had sat silent all this time,", "Hush!\" said she; \"my mother knows not. Gerard has left Tergou.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"I saw him last night.\"\n\n\"Ay! Where?\" cried Dierich eagerly.\n\n\"At the foot of the haunted tower.\"\n\n\"How did he get the rope?\"\n\n\"I know not; but this I know; my brother Gerard bade me there farewell,\nand he is many leagues from Tergou ere this. The town, you know, was\nalways unworthy of him, and when it imprisoned him", "\"Oh, yes, Gerard,\" cried Margaret wildly. \"Fly on the instant. Ah! those\nparchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?\"\n\n\"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so. No matter: the old\ncaitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden\nhis treasure where he shall never find it.\" Gerard then, after thanking\nGiles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate\nhe was gone. \"", "\nseated in a chair with wheels. He greeted her with a feeble voice, but\ncordially; and when she asked him whether it was true he had seen\nGerard since the fifth of August, he replied, \"Gerard no more, but Friar\nClement. Ay, I saw him; and blessed be the day he entered my house.\"\n\nHe then related in his own words his interview with Clement.\n\nHe told her, moreover, that the friar had afterwards acknowledged he\ncame to Tergou with the missing deed in his bosom", ".\n\n\"My brother Gerard is never in Italy.\"\n\n\"Ye lie, ye cur,\" roared Hans, taking instantly the irascible turn, and\nnot being clear enough to see that he, who now sat opposite him, was the\nsame he had praised, and hit, when beside him. \"If he is ten times\nyour brother, he is in Italy. What call ye this? There, read me that\nsuperscription!\" and he flung down a letter on the table.\n\nSybrandt took it up, and examined it gravely; but eventually laid it\n", "ingled with the passengers of two boats, and could hear nothing of\nGerard Eliassoen. Nor did this surprise him.\n\nHe was more surprised when, at the third attempt, a black friar said\nto him, somewhat severely, \"And what would you with him you call Gerard\nEliassoen?\"\n\n\"Why, father, if he is alive I have got a letter for him.\"\n\n\"Humph!\" said Jerome. \"I am sorry for it, However, the flesh is weak.\nWell, my son, he you seek will be here by the", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "his parents; and in it he drew hastily with his pen two hands\ngrasping each other, to signify farewell. By-the-by, one drop of\nbitterness found its way into his letter to Margaret. But of that anon.\n\nGerard now offered money to the soldier. He hesitated, but declined it.\n\"No, no! art comrade of my comrade; and may\" (etc.) \"but thy love for\nthe wench touches me. I'll break another bottle at thy charge an thou\nwilt, and so cry quits.\"", "this they gave Gerard. Then\nsupper, and after it the old monk carried Gerard to his cell, and they\nhad an eager chat, and the friar incidentally revealed the cause of\nhis pantomime in the corridor. \"Ye had well-nigh fallen into Brother\nJerome's clutches. Yon was his cell.\"\n\n\"Is Father Jerome an ill man, then?\"\n\n\"An ill man!\" and the friar crossed himself; \"a saint, an anchorite, the\nvery pillar of this house! He had sent" ], [ "suicide during the first\ntwenty-four hours of the solitary cell. This is doubtless why our Jairi\nabstain so carefully from the impertinence of watching their little\nexperiment upon the human soul at that particular stage of it.\n\nAs the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank; with the waning\nlight even the embers of hope went out. He was faint, too, with hunger;\nfor he was afraid to eat the food Ghysbrecht had brought him; and hunger\nalone cows men. He sat upon the chest, his", "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", "\n\nHis old landlady who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the stair, heard\nthe raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.\n\nShe found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.\n\nShe remonstrated.\n\n\"What avails my lying here?\" said he gloomily. \"Can I find here that\nwhich I seek?\"\n\n\"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?\"\n\n\"Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so", "company. Yet\nit was his daily company.\n\nHe hung over the boat in moody silence.\n\nAnd from that hour another phase of his misery began; and grew upon him.\n\nSome wretched fools try to drown care in drink.\n\nThe fumes of intoxication vanish; the inevitable care remains, and must\nbe faced at last--with an aching head, disordered stomach, and spirits\nartificially depressed.\n\nGerard's conduct had been of a piece with these maniacs'. To survive\nhis terrible blow he needed all", ".\n\n\"Ah, thou wouldst sleep,\" said the miscreant eagerly. \"I go.\" And he\nretired on tip-toe with a promise to come every day.\n\nGerard lay with his eyes closed: not asleep, but deeply pondering.\n\nSaved from death, by an assassin\n\nWas not this the finger of Heaven?\n\nOf that Heaven he had insulted, cursed, and defied.\n\nHe shuddered at his blasphemies. He tried to pray.\n\nHe found he could utter prayers. But he", "faltered at this a moment. But soon, by a strong effort,\nhe recovered all his calmness.\n\n\"His feeble nature yielded, body and soul, to the blow, He was stricken\ndown with fever. He revived only to rebel against Heaven. He said,\n'There is no God.'\"\n\n\"Poor, poor Gerard!\"\n\n\"Poor Gerard? thou feeble, foolish woman! Nay, wicked, impious Gerard.\nHe plunged into vice, and soiled his eternal jewel: those you met\nhim with were his", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "Gerard, for answer, flung his arms round Denys's neck in silence.\n\n\"Look here,\" whined the stout soldier, affected by this little gush of\nnature and youth, \"was ever aught so like a woman? I love thee, little\nmilksop--go to. Good! behold him on his knees now. What new caprice is\nthis?\"\n\n\"Oh, Denys, ought we not to return thanks to Him who has saved both our\nlives against such fearful odds?\" And Gerard kneeled, and prayed al", "es.\"\n\nHe was hurried on board at La Vere, and never saw Gerard at that time.\n\nIn 1473 Sybrandt began to fail. His pitiable existence had been\nsweetened by his brother's inventive tenderness and his own contented\nspirit, which, his antecedents considered, was truly remarkable, As for\nGerard, the day never passed that he did not devote two hours to him;\nreading or singing to him, praying with him, and drawing him about in a\nsoft carriage Margaret and he had made between them", "\nhis face to the wall.\n\nHis good landlady wept at this. She had known what it is to awake\nbereaved.\n\nFra Jerome recited canticles, and prayers from his breviary.\n\nGerard rolled himself in the bed-clothes.\n\nFra Colonna went to him, and whimpering, reminded him that all was not\nlost. The divine Muses were immortal. He must transfer his affection to\nthem; they would never betray him nor fail him like creatures of clay.\nThe good, simple father then", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "spot an event had just occurred, which, take it\naltogether, was perhaps without a parallel in the history of mankind,\nand may remain so to the end of time.\n\nBut it shall be told in a very few words, partly by me, partly by an\nactor in the scene.\n\nGerard, then, after writing his brief adieu to Pietro and Andrea, had\nstolen down to the river at nightfall.\n\nHe had taken his measures with a dogged resolution not uncommon in those\nwho are bent on self-destruction. He filled his pockets with", "told her this unexpected trait in her Gerard. He\ncontinued, \"And even with that he bade me farewell.\n\n\"'My work here is done now,' said he. I had not the heart to stay him;\nfor let him forgive me ever so, the sight of me must be wormwood to\nhim. He left me in peace, and may a dying man's blessing wait on him, go\nwhere he will. Oh, girl, when I think of his wrongs, and thine, and how\nhe hath avenged himself by saving this stained soul of", "bade him farewell. \"Day breaks,\" said he; \"I must\nprepare for matins.\"\n\n\"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?\"\n\n\"By the hand of Heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed it on you\nagain. Think on it! Hast tried the world and found its gall. Now try the\nChurch! The Church is peace. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nHe was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till weak and\nwearied he fell into a doze", "Gerard,\nas he lay tranquil, and gazed calmly at the ceiling, and trickled into\nwords.\n\n\"First, venerable sir, I thank you for coming to see me, whether from\nhumanity, or in the way of honest gain; all trades must live.\n\n\"Your learning, reverend sir, seems great, to me at least, and for your\nexperience, your age voucheth it.\n\n\"You say you have bled many, and of these many, many have not died\nthereafter, but lived, and done", "poor deserted child, you and I are\nwading in deep waters.\"\n\nShe applied at least half this modest, but useful supply, to dressing\nthe little Gerard beyond his station in life. \"If it does come from\nGerard, he shall see his boy neat.\" All the mothers in the street began\nto sneer, especially such as had brats out at elbows.\n\nThe months rolled on, and dead sickness of heart succeeded to these\nkeener torments. She returned to her first thought: \"Gerard must be\ndead. She should never see her", "lived thee and so\ndied of grief.\"\n\n\"Died? thou die? I will never let thee die. Where is thy pain? What is\nthy trouble?\"\n\n\"The plague,\" she said calmly. Gerard uttered a cry of horror, and\nstarted to his feet; she read his thought. \"Useless,\" said she quietly.\n\"My nose hath bled; none ever yet survived to whom that came along with\nthe plague. Bring no fools hither to babble over the body they cannot\nsave. I am but a", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", ", softened by\nsaving the life he was paid to take, turned from the stiletto to the\nporter's knot. The princess went barefoot to Loretto, weeping her crime\nand washing the feet of base-born men.\n\nAnd Gerard, carried from the Tiber into that convent a suicide, now\npassed for a young saint within its walls.\n\nLoving but experienced eyes were on him.\n\nUpon a shorter probation than usual he was admitted to priest's orders.\n\nAnd soon after took the monastic vows, and became", "and insolence.\nFarewell.\" He went. He came. He roared, \"And think not to be buried in\nany Christian church-yard; for the bailiff is my good friend, and I\nshall tell him how and why you died: felo de se! felo de se! Farewell.\"\n\nGerard sprang to his feet on the bed by some supernatural gymnastic\npower excitement lent him, and seeing him so moved, the vindictive\norator came back at him fiercer than ever, to launch some master-threat\nthe" ], [ "Denys came close to him, and peered in his\nface, and devoured every feature; and when he was sure it was really\nGerard, he uttered a cry so vehement it brought the women running from\nthe house, and fell upon Gerard's neck, and kissed him again and again,\nand sank on his knees, and laughed and sobbed with joy so terribly,\nthat Gerard mourned his folly in doing dramas. But the women with their\ngentle soothing ways soon composed the brave fellow, and he sat smiling,\nand holding Margaret", "and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, to\nhealth and beauty, by swift gradations; to see the roses return to the\nloved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye, and his words to the loved\nmouth--this was Margaret's--a joy to balance years of sorrow. It\nwas Gerard's to awake from a trance, and find his head pillowed on\nMargaret's arm; to hear the woman he adored murmur new words of eloquent\nlove, and shower tears and tender kisses and ca", "\nMargaret had left her bed some days, and was sitting pale and pensive\nby the fireside, when he burst in, waving the parchment, and crying, \"A\nfree pardon, girl, for Gerard as well as me! Send for him back when you\nwill; all the burgomasters on earth daren't lay a finger on him.\"\n\nShe flushed all over with joy and her hands trembled with eagerness\nas she took the parchment and devoured it with her eyes, and kissed it\nagain and again, and flung", "\"Oh, yes, Gerard,\" cried Margaret wildly. \"Fly on the instant. Ah! those\nparchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?\"\n\n\"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so. No matter: the old\ncaitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden\nhis treasure where he shall never find it.\" Gerard then, after thanking\nGiles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate\nhe was gone. \"", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "s, seemed now to be clearing; he had intervals of intelligence; and\nthen he and Margaret used to talk of Gerard, till he wandered again. But\none day, returning after an absence of some hours, Margaret found\nhim conversing with Catherine, in a way he had never done since his\nparalytic stroke. \"Eh, girl, why must you be out?\" said she. \"But\nindeed I have told him all; and we have been a-crying together over thy\ntroubles.\"\n\nMargaret stood silent, looking joyfully from one to the", "fell heavily upon the ground, where he\nlay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.\n\n\"Hist, Martin! Martin!\"\n\nMartin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, \"Now fly!\nfly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved.\"\n\nAt this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,\nMargaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly\nfrom loss of blood.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved, fly!\" she gas", "\nthey had come.\n\nGerard lay aching and smarting; and to him Rome, that seemed so near at\nstarting, looked far, far off, now that he was two hundred miles nearer\nit. But soon all his thoughts turned Sevenbergen-wards. How sweet it\nwould be one day to hold Margaret's hand, and tell her all he had gone\nthrough for her! The very thought of it, and her, soothed him; and in\nthe midst of pain and irritation of the nerves be lay resigned, and\nsweetly, though faint", "Gerard?\" cried she, her bosom heaving. \"Is he alive?\"\n\n\"For aught I know,\" stammered Ghysbrecht. \"I hope so, for your sake.\nPrithee come into this room. The servants!\"\n\n\"Not a step,\" said Margaret, and she took him by the shoulder, and held\nhim with all the energy of an excited woman. \"You know the secret of\nthat which is breaking my heart. Why does not my Gerard come, nor send\na line this many months? Answer me, or all the town is like to", "moment-all-was-dark. I had--ah!\"\n\nCatherine. \"Here, help! water! Stand aloof, you that be men!\"\n\nMargaret had fainted away.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIV\n\nWhen she recovered, her head was on Catherine's arm, and the honest half\nof the family she had invaded like a foe stood round her uttering rough\nhomely words of encouragement, especially Giles, who roared at her that\nshe was not to take on like that. \"Gerard was alive and well, or", ", or you'll drive his breath back again. Let him alone: he is\nsure to come to. 'Tisn't like as if he was an old man.\"\n\nGerard sighed deeply, and a faint streak of colour stole to his lips.\nJorian made for the door. He had hardly reached it, when he found his\nlegs seized from behind.\n\nIt was Margaret! She curled round his knees like a serpent, and kissed\nhis hand, and fawned on him. \"You won't tell? You have saved his life;\nyou", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", "Cornelis had it on his lips to say. Gerard was most likely\nalive, But he saw his mother looking at him, and checked himself in\ntime.\n\nGhysbrecht Van Swieten, the other partner in that lie, was now a failing\nman. He saw the period fast approaching when all his wealth would drop\nfrom his body, and his misdeeds cling to his soul.\n\nToo intelligent to deceive himself entirely, he had never been free\nfrom gusts of remorse. In taking Gerard's letter to Margaret he had\ncompound", ". \"Oh, that man! that man!\"\n\n\"Nay, fear me not,\" said Ghysbrecht; \"I come on a friend's errand. I\nbring ye a letter from foreign parts.\"\n\n\"Mock me not, old man,\" and she turned slowly round.\n\n\"Nay, see;\" and he held out an enormous letter.\n\nMargaret darted on it, and held it with trembling hands and glistening\neyes. It was Gerard's handwriting.\n\n\"Oh, thank you, sir, bless you for", "Gerard. \"I will read this.\"\n\n\"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now,\" cried Margaret. \"Every moment you lose\nfills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall,\nand the clouds lower.\"\n\nGerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom,\nand threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down. While thus\nemployed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant\nthunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and", "and contrive and scheme together to remedy all that were\nremediable; to use the rare insight into troubled hearts which their\nown troubles had given them, and use it to make others happier than\nthemselves--this was their daily practice. And in this blessed cause\ntheir passions for one another cooled a little, but their affection\nincreased.\n\nFrom this time Margaret entered heart and soul into Gerard's pious\ncharities, that affection purged itself of all mortal dross. And as\nit had now long out-lived scandal and", "\n\nShe trembled violently, and with her cheeks on fire began to falter out,\n\"I did look on Gerard as my husband--we being betrothed-and he was in so\nsore danger, and I thought I had killed him, and I-oh, if you were but\nmy mother I might find courage: you would question me. But you say not a\nword.\"\n\n\"Why, Margaret, what is all this coil about? and why are thy cheeks\ncrimson, speaking to no stranger', but to thy old father?\"\n\n\"Why are my cheeks", "sleep. They opened\nhis cupboards, they ran their knives into an alligator he had nailed to\nhis wall; they looked under his bed: it was a large room, and apparently\nfull of hiding-places, but they found no Gerard.\n\nThen they went on to Margaret's room, and the very sight of it was\ndiscouraging--it was small and bare, and not a cupboard in it; there\nwas, however, a large fireplace and chimney. Dierich's eye fell on these\ndirectly. Here they found the beauty of", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "! it\nwas Gerard. Verily I had fallen at his feet with shame and contrition,\nbut he would not suffer me. 'That became not mine years and his, for a\nparticular fault. I say not I forgive thee without a struggle,' said he,\n'not being a saint. But these three days thou hast spent in penitence,\nI have worn under thy roof in prayer; and I do forgive thee.' Those were\nhis very words.\"\n\nMargaret's tears began to flow, for it was in a broken and contrite\nvoice the old man" ], [ "his penance.\n\nAnd lo! Gerard could pray now.\n\nAnd he prayed with all his heart.\n\nThe phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may be summed\nin a word--Penitence.\n\nHe turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged\npassionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, it was\nlike a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.\n\nHe passed his novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading\nand meditation.\n\n", "\nhad worn out their wasted bodies on the rock, and the rock under their\nsleeping bodies, and their praying knees, all came into his mind, and he\nsaid to himself, \"This sweet retreat is for safety of the soul; but what\nfor penance Jesu aid me against faults to come; and for the fault I rue,\nface of man I will not see for a twelvemonth and a day.\" He had famous\nprecedents in his eye even for this last and unusual severity. In fact\nthe original hermit of this very cell was clearly under the same vow", "aret, the hermit did speak to me.\"\n\n\"What, a hermit there? among all those birds.\"\n\n\"Ay; and doth not that show him a holy man?\"\n\n\"I' God's name, what said he to thee, Reicht?\"\n\n\"Alas! Margaret, I told him thy story, and I prayed him for our Lady's\nsake tell me where thy Gerard is, And I waited long for an answer, and\npresently a voice came like a trumpet: 'Pray for the soul of Gerard the\n", "mentioned him but as plain Gerard. But\nMargaret told her flatly she did not believe her; at which Reicht was\naffronted, and went out with a little toss of the head. However, she\ndetermined to question the hermit again, and did not doubt he would be\nmore liberal in his communication when he saw his nice new pelisse and\nthe candles.\n\nShe had not been gone long when Giles came in with ill news.\n\nThe living of Gouda would be kept vacant no longer.\n\nMargaret was greatly distressed", "bade him farewell. \"Day breaks,\" said he; \"I must\nprepare for matins.\"\n\n\"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?\"\n\n\"By the hand of Heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed it on you\nagain. Think on it! Hast tried the world and found its gall. Now try the\nChurch! The Church is peace. Pax vobiscum.\"\n\nHe was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till weak and\nwearied he fell into a doze", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", "\n\nHis old landlady who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the stair, heard\nthe raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.\n\nShe found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.\n\nShe remonstrated.\n\n\"What avails my lying here?\" said he gloomily. \"Can I find here that\nwhich I seek?\"\n\n\"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?\"\n\n\"Oblivion.\"\n\n\"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so", "a cave all by himself.\"\n\n\"In de dark?\"\n\n\"Ay, whiles.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nIn the morning Reicht was sent to the hermit with the pelisse, and a\npound of thick candles.\n\nAs she was going out of the door Margaret said to her, \"Said you whose\nson Gerard was?\"\n\n\"Nay, not I.\"\n\n\"Think, girl! How could he call him Gerard, son of Eli, if you had not\ntold him?\"\n\nReicht persisted she had never", "and Jerome, cold and curt on most religious themes, was\nwarm with enthusiasm on this one. He had pored over the annals of\nSt. John Baptist's abbey, round about which the hermit's caves were\nscattered, and told him the names of many a noble, and many a famous\nwarrior who had ended his days there a hermit, and of many a bishop and\narchbishop who had passed from the see to the hermitage, or from the\nhermitage to the see. Among the former the Archbishop of Raven", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "this they gave Gerard. Then\nsupper, and after it the old monk carried Gerard to his cell, and they\nhad an eager chat, and the friar incidentally revealed the cause of\nhis pantomime in the corridor. \"Ye had well-nigh fallen into Brother\nJerome's clutches. Yon was his cell.\"\n\n\"Is Father Jerome an ill man, then?\"\n\n\"An ill man!\" and the friar crossed himself; \"a saint, an anchorite, the\nvery pillar of this house! He had sent", ", thou wert like me no one was left\nthat loved thee, when Gerard was gone.\"\n\nHe went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long and\nearnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not find.\n\nComing out of the church he saw a very old man looking over the little\nchurchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him did he live in the\nplace.\n\n\"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here every day\nof late, holy father, to take", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "'s journey so as to lie\nat some peaceful monastery; then suddenly breaking off and looking as\nsharp as a needle at Gerard, he asked him how long since he had been\nshriven? Gerard coloured up and replied feebly--\n\n\"Better than a fortnight.\"\n\n\"And thou an exorcist! No wonder perils have overtaken thee. Come, thou\nmust be assoiled out of hand.\"\n\n\"Yes, father,\" said Gerard, \"and with all mine heart;\" and was sinking\ndown to his knees,", "seated her all by herself like a\nleper. She looked at Denys, and putting her hand down by her side, made\nhim a swift furtive motion to come by her.\n\nHe went with an obedient start as if she had cried \"March!\" and stood\nat her shoulder like a sentinel; but this zealous manner of doing it\nrevealed to the company that he had been ordered thither; and at that\nshe coloured. And now she began to read her Gerard, their Gerard, to\ntheir eager ears, in a mellow,", "It's my belief my man knows more about your Gerard\nthan anybody in these parts; but he has got to be closer than ever of\nlate. Drop in some day just afore sunset, and set him talking. And for\nour Lady's sake say not I set you on. The only hiding he ever gave me\nwas for babbling his business; and I do not want another. Gramercy! I\nmarried a man for the comfort of the thing, not to be hided.\"\n\nCatherine dropped in. Jorian was ready enough to tell her how he had\n", "a burst of grief, told her all, and prayed her to send after\nGerard. \"Now he is parted from me, he will maybe listen to my rede,\"\nsaid he; \"poor wretch, he loves not solitude.\"\n\nThe landlady gave a toss of her head. \"I trow I have been somewhat\nover-kind already,\" said she, and turned rather red.\n\n\"You will not?\"\n\n\"Not I.\"\n\n\"Then,\"--and he poured a volley of curses and abuse upon her.\n\nShe turned", "!\"\n\n\"Confess it!\"\n\n\"I deceived thee. This many years I have deceived thee.\"\n\nHere tears interrupted her speech.\n\n\"Courage, my daughter, courage,\" said Gerard kindly, overpowering the\nlover in the priest.\n\nShe hid her face in her hands, and with many sighs told him it was she\nwho had broken down the hermit's cave with the help of Jorian Ketel, \"I,\nshallow, did it but to hinder thy return thither; but when thou saw", "ard, she is all to thee that I am to this sweet\nchild. Ah, I think so much more of mothers since I had my little Gerard.\nShe suffered for thee, and nursed thee, and tended thee from boy to man.\nPriest monk, hermit, call thyself what thou wilt, to her thou art but\none thing; her child.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" murmured Gerard, in a quavering voice.\n\n\"At Gouda manse, wearing the night in prayer and care.\"\n\nThen Margaret", "happy.\n\nBut Margaret was not.\n\nThe habitual expression of her face was a sweet pensiveness, but\nsometimes she was irritable and a little petulant. She even snapped\nGerard now and then. And when she went to see him, if a monk was with\nhim she would turn her back and go home. She hated the monks for having\nparted Gerard and her, and she inoculated her boy with a contempt for\nthem which lasted him till his dying day.\n\nGerard bore with her like an angel. He knew her" ], [ ".\"\n\n\"Take your own way,\" said Margaret humbly; \"you are wiser than I am. You\nare my husband,\" added she, in a low murmuring voice; \"is it for me to\ngainsay you?\"\n\nThese humble words from Margaret, who, till that day, had held the\nwhip-hand, rather surprised Martin for the moment. They recurred to him\nsome time afterwards, and then they surprised him less.\n\nGerard kissed her tenderly in return for her wife-like docility, and\nthey pursued their journey hand in", "\"Oh, yes, Gerard,\" cried Margaret wildly. \"Fly on the instant. Ah! those\nparchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?\"\n\n\"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so. No matter: the old\ncaitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden\nhis treasure where he shall never find it.\" Gerard then, after thanking\nGiles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate\nhe was gone. \"", "fell heavily upon the ground, where he\nlay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.\n\n\"Hist, Martin! Martin!\"\n\nMartin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, \"Now fly!\nfly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved.\"\n\nAt this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,\nMargaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly\nfrom loss of blood.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved, fly!\" she gas", "Gerard. \"I will read this.\"\n\n\"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now,\" cried Margaret. \"Every moment you lose\nfills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall,\nand the clouds lower.\"\n\nGerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom,\nand threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down. While thus\nemployed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant\nthunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and", "\ntaking her round the neck, kissed her warmly.\n\n\"I suffered for Gerard, and you shed your blood for him I do hear; his\nown words show me that I have been to blame, the very words you have\nread to me. Ay, Gerard, my child, I have held aloof from her; but I'll\nmake it up to her once I begin. You are my daughter from this hour.\"\n\nAnother warm embrace sealed this hasty compact, and the woman of impulse\nwas gone.\n\nMargaret lay back in her chair,", "of her. She\nwaited a better opportunity, and told her mother what she had learned\nfrom Reicht Heynes, that Margaret had shed her very blood for Gerard in\nthe wood.\n\n\"See, mother, how she loves him.\"\n\n\"Who would not love him?\"\n\n\"Oh, mother, think of it! Poor thing.\"\n\n\"Ay, wench. She has her own trouble, no doubt, as well as we ours. I\ncan't abide the sight of blood, let alone my own.\"\n\nThis was a point gained; but when", "whom speak you, dear\nMargaret?\"\n\n\"Nay, then, we shall quarrel, Gerard.\"\n\n\"Methinks I see Margaret and Gerard quarrelling! Why, it takes two to\nquarrel, and we are but one.\"\n\nWith this Gerard smiled on her sweetly. But there was no kind responsive\nglance. She looked cold, gloomy, and troubled.\n\nHe sighed, and sat patiently down opposite her with his face all puzzled\nand saddened. He said nothing, for he felt sure she would explain", "(with a little sigh).\n\nAnd now Peter came in, and welcomed Gerard cordially, and would have him\nto stay supper. And Margaret disappeared; and Gerard had a nice learned\nchat with Peter; and Margaret reappeared with her hair in her silver\nnet, and shot a glance half arch, half coy, and glided about them, and\nspread supper, and beamed bright with gaiety and happiness. And in\nthe cool evening Gerard coaxed her out, and she objected and came; and\ncoaxed her on to the road to Ter", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "\nthey had come.\n\nGerard lay aching and smarting; and to him Rome, that seemed so near at\nstarting, looked far, far off, now that he was two hundred miles nearer\nit. But soon all his thoughts turned Sevenbergen-wards. How sweet it\nwould be one day to hold Margaret's hand, and tell her all he had gone\nthrough for her! The very thought of it, and her, soothed him; and in\nthe midst of pain and irritation of the nerves be lay resigned, and\nsweetly, though faint", "\n\nShe trembled violently, and with her cheeks on fire began to falter out,\n\"I did look on Gerard as my husband--we being betrothed-and he was in so\nsore danger, and I thought I had killed him, and I-oh, if you were but\nmy mother I might find courage: you would question me. But you say not a\nword.\"\n\n\"Why, Margaret, what is all this coil about? and why are thy cheeks\ncrimson, speaking to no stranger', but to thy old father?\"\n\n\"Why are my cheeks", "do I\nask? Would I leave thee if thou wert--At least touch me not, and then I\nwill let thee bide, and see the last of poor Margaret. She ne'er spoke\nharsh to thee before, sweetheart, and she never will again.\"\n\n\"Alas! what mean these dark words, these wild and troubled looks?\" said\nGerard, clasping his hands.\n\n\"My poor Gerard,\" said Margaret, \"forgive me that I spoke so to thee. I\nam but a woman, and would have spared", "punished; and therefore he and Margaret would have\nto part for a time. Moreover, he had conceived a hatred to his native\nplace. Margaret wished him to leave the country for a while, but at\nthe thought of his going to Italy her heart fainted. Gerard, on the\ncontrary, was reconciled to leaving Margaret only by his desire to visit\nItaly, and his strong conviction that there he should earn money and\nreputation, and remove every obstacle to their marriage. He had already\ntold her all that the demoiselle Van Eyck had said to him", "\nMargaret had left her bed some days, and was sitting pale and pensive\nby the fireside, when he burst in, waving the parchment, and crying, \"A\nfree pardon, girl, for Gerard as well as me! Send for him back when you\nwill; all the burgomasters on earth daren't lay a finger on him.\"\n\nShe flushed all over with joy and her hands trembled with eagerness\nas she took the parchment and devoured it with her eyes, and kissed it\nagain and again, and flung", "here.\"\n\nHe then ran off, lest by staying longer he should excite suspicion,\nand have them all after him. And Margaret knelt, quivering from head to\nfoot, and prayed beside Gerard and for Gerard.\n\n\n\"What is to do?\" replied Jorian to Dierich Brower's query; \"why, we have\nscared the girl out of her wits. She was in a kind of fit.\"\n\n\"We had better all go and doctor her, then.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! and frighten her into the church", "as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but at\nor within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn the\nstrange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom every\nword that passed carried ten times the force it did to either of the\nspeakers.\n\nSince, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear with\nher ears, I go back a step for her.\n\nMargaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was in that\nstate of mind in which affection", "\"Gone, woman?\" said Gerard indignantly, \"art not ashamed to say so? Why,\nI saw her but now at the window.\"\n\n\"Oh, if you saw her--\"\n\nA sweet voice above said, \"Stay him not, let him enter.\" It was\nMargaret.\n\nGerard ran up the stairs to her, and went to take her hand, She drew\nback hastily.\n\nHe looked astounded.\n\n\"I am displeased,\" she said coldly. \"What makes you here? Know you not\n", "Sybrandt, all his cry was now for Gerard, He used to whine\nto Margaret like a suffering hound, \"Oh, sweet Margaret, oh, bonny\nMargaret, for our Lady's sake find Gerard, and bid him take his curse\noff me. Thou art gentle, thou art good; thou wilt entreat for me, and he\nwill refuse thee nought.\"\n\nCatherine shared his belief that Gerard could cure him, and joined her\nentreaties to his, Margaret hardly needed this. The burgomaster and his\nagents", "\n\nGerard hung his head.\n\n\"We take him to Rotterdam to abide the sentence of the Duke.\"\n\nAt this Margaret uttered a cry of despair, and the young creatures, who\nwere so happy a moment ago, fell to sobbing in one another's arms so\npiteously, that the instruments of oppression drew back a step and were\nashamed; but one of them that was good-natured stepped up under pretence\nof separating them, and whispered to Margaret:\n\n\"Rotterdam? it is a lie. We but take him", "They had not been deserted yet.) Not a\nword against the Gerard they had created out of their own heads. For the\nimaginary crime they fell foul of the supposed victim. Sometimes they\naffronted her to her face. Oftener they talked at her backwards and\nforwards with a subtle skill, and a perseverance which, \"oh, that they\nhad bestowed on the arts,\" as poor Aguecheek says.\n\nNow Margaret was brave, and a coward; brave to battle difficulties and\nill fortune; brave to shed her own blood for those she loved" ], [ "fell heavily upon the ground, where he\nlay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.\n\n\"Hist, Martin! Martin!\"\n\nMartin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, \"Now fly!\nfly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved.\"\n\nAt this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,\nMargaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly\nfrom loss of blood.\n\n\"Oh, my beloved, fly!\" she gas", "am beholden to thee,\" said Margaret hastily, and almost snatched\nit from Martin, and wrapped it up again, and restored it to its\nhiding-place.\n\nEre these unexpected funds were spent, she got to her ironing and\nstarching again. In the midst of which Martin sickened; and died after\nan illness of nine days.\n\nNearly all her money went to bury him decently.\n\nHe was gone; and there was an empty chair by her fireside, For he had\npreferred the hearth to the sun as soon", "\"Well, mother,\" said Margaret listlessly, \"and here I am.\"\n\nA shuffling of feet was heard at the door, and a colourless, feeble old\nman was assisted into the room. It was Ghysbrecht Van Swieten. At\nsight of him Catherine shrieked, and threw her apron over her head, and\nMargaret shuddered violently, and turned her head swiftly away, not to\nsee him.\n\nA feeble voice issued from the strange visitor's lips, \"Good people, a\ndying man", "despondency, only to go\ninto strong hysterics over the wealth that came too late to be shared\nwith him she loved.\n\nA little of this gold, a portion of this land, a year or two ago, when\nit was as much her own as now; and Gerard would have never left her side\nfor Italy or any other place.\n\n\"Too late! Too late!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XCI\n\nNot many days after this came the news that Margaret Van Eyck was dead\nand buried. By a will she had made a year before, she left", "They had not been deserted yet.) Not a\nword against the Gerard they had created out of their own heads. For the\nimaginary crime they fell foul of the supposed victim. Sometimes they\naffronted her to her face. Oftener they talked at her backwards and\nforwards with a subtle skill, and a perseverance which, \"oh, that they\nhad bestowed on the arts,\" as poor Aguecheek says.\n\nNow Margaret was brave, and a coward; brave to battle difficulties and\nill fortune; brave to shed her own blood for those she loved", ".\n\n\"No, sir,\" said Margaret gravely, \"it is not.\" Then, in a voice\nthat faltered suddenly, \"You hunted--my poor Gerard--so hard--and so\nclose-that you gave him--no time-to think of aught--but his life--and\nhis grief. The parchment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Whither, whither?\"\n\n\"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? It was\nfor your sake,", "kept the weekly rent paid, and the pot\nboiling, but no more.\n\nAnd now came a concatenation. Recommended from one to another, Margaret\nwashed for the mayor. And bringing home the clean linen one day she\nheard in the kitchen that his worship's only daughter was stricken\nwith disease, and not like to live, Poor Margaret could not help\ncross-questioning, and a female servant gave her such of the symptoms as\nshe had observed. But they were too general. However, one gossip would\nadd one fact, and another another. And", "no more. The main cause of this change of\nmind was characteristic of the woman. She it was who in a moment of\nfemale irritation had cut Margaret's picture to pieces. She had watched\nthe effect with some misgivings, and had seen Gerard turn pale as death,\nand sit motionless like a bereaved creature, with the pieces in his\nhands, and his eyes fixed on them till tears came and blinded them. Then\nshe was terrified at what she had done; and next her heart smote her\nbitterly; and she wept sore apart; but", "both, and\nsank at her father's knees, and begged his pardon, with many sobs for\nhaving doubted his tenderness.\n\nHe raised her in his arms, and took her, radiant through her tears with\njoy, and returning life, and filial love, to his breast; and the pair\npassed a truly sacred moment, and the dignitary was as happy as he\nthought to be miserable; so hard is it for mortals to foresee. And they\nlooked round for Margaret, but she had stolen away softly.\n\nThe young girl", "home.\n\nPerhaps after all Margaret had nourished some faint secret hope in her\nheart, though her reason had rejected it, for she certainly went home\nmore dejectedly.\n\nJust as they entered Rotterdam, Reicht said, \"Stay! Oh, Margaret, I am\nill at deceit; but 'tis death to utter ill news to thee; I love thee so\ndear.\"\n\n\"Speak out, sweetheart,\" said Margaret. \"I have gone through so much, I\nam almost past feeling any fresh trouble.\"\n\n\"Marg", "speak of\nhim before these.\" They went off together, followed by a chorus. \"She\nhas gotten a man. She has gotten a man at last. Boo! boo! boo!\"\n\nMargaret quickened her steps; but Denys took down his crossbow and\npretended to shoot them all dead: they fled quadrivious, shrieking.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LI\n\nThe reader already knows how much these two had to tell one another.\nIt was a sweet yet bitter day for Margaret, since it brought her a true\nfriend, and ill news;", "APTER LXXIX\n\nShe who had wept for poor old Martin was not likely to bear this blow so\nstoically as the death of the old is apt to be borne. In vain Catherine\ntried to console her with commonplaces; in vain told her it was a happy\nrelease for him; and that, as he himself had said, the tree was ripe.\nBut her worst failure was, when she urged that there were now but two\nmouths to feed; and one care the less.\n\n\"Such cares are all the joys I have,\" said Margaret. \"They fill", "hell.\"\n\nAnd unnatural force ended in prostration.\n\nHe staggered, and but for Margaret would have fallen, With her one\ndisengaged arm she supported him as well as she could and cried for\nhelp.\n\nA couple of servants came running, and carried him away in a state\nbordering on syncope, The last Margaret saw of him was his old furrowed\nface, white and helpless as his hair that hung down over the servant's\nelbow.\n\n\"Heaven forgive me,\" she said. \"I doubt I have killed the poor old man", "do I\nask? Would I leave thee if thou wert--At least touch me not, and then I\nwill let thee bide, and see the last of poor Margaret. She ne'er spoke\nharsh to thee before, sweetheart, and she never will again.\"\n\n\"Alas! what mean these dark words, these wild and troubled looks?\" said\nGerard, clasping his hands.\n\n\"My poor Gerard,\" said Margaret, \"forgive me that I spoke so to thee. I\nam but a woman, and would have spared", "most as good, and behoves her pray for his soul. One thing, she is not\nso poor now as she was; and never fell riches to a better hand; and she\nis only come into her own for that matter, so she can pay the priest to\nsay masses for him, and that is a great comfort.\"\n\nIn the midst of their gossip, Margaret, in whose ears it was all\nbuzzing, though she seemed lost in thought, got softly up, and crept\naway with her eyes on the ground, and her brows bent.\n\n\"She hath forgotten", "axed. Then he scolded her well; then, at\nthat she went into hysterics.\n\nHe was frightened at this result of his eloquence, and being off his\nguard, allowed himself to be entrapped into a solemn promise never to\nrecur to the subject. He went back to Catherine crestfallen, and\ntold her. She fired up and told the family how his overtures had been\nreceived. Then they fired up; it became a feud and burned fiercer every\nday. Little Kate alone made some excuses for Margaret.", "then, that they must not come anigh a dying bed?\"\n\nBut Margaret was too deeply dejected to say anything. Joan applied rough\nconsolation. But she was not listened to till she said: \"And Jorian will\nspeak out ere long; he is just on the boil, He is very grateful to thee,\nbelieve it.\"\n\n\"Seeing is believing,\" replied Margaret, with quiet bitterness.\n\n\"Not but what he thinks you might have saved him with something more out\no' the common than yon. 'A man of my inches to", "faith in her dying father's\nvision, or illusion; and when this was done, and Luke gone, she wondered\nat her credulity, and her conscience pricked her about Luke; and\nCatherine came and scolded her, and she paid the price of false hopes,\nand elevation of spirits, by falling into deeper despondency. She was\nfound in this state by a staunch friend she had lately made, Joan Ketel.\nThis good woman came in radiant with an idea.\n\n\"Margaret, I know the cure for thine ill: the her", "husband. Margaret had her arms round Catherine's neck; and pale and\npanting, was yet making efforts to comfort her.\n\nBut it was not to be done, \"Oh, my poor children!\" she cried. \"Oh,\nmiserable mother! 'Tis a mercy Kate was ill upstairs. There, I have\nlived to thank God for that!\" she cried, with a fresh burst of sobs. \"It\nwould have killed her. He had better have stayed in Italy, as come home\nto curse his own flesh and blood and set us all by the ears.", "his mind inside out, what there was of it.\n\nMargaret met her at the door, pale and agitated, and threw her arms\nround her neck, and looked imploringly in her face.\n\n\"Come, he is alive, thank God,\" said Catherine, after scanning her\neagerly.\n\nShe looked at the failing child, and then at the poor hollow-eyed\nmother, alternately, \"Lucky you sent for me,\" said she, \"The child is\npoisoned.\"\n\n\"Poisoned! by whom?\"\n\n\"By you." ], [ "lived thee and so\ndied of grief.\"\n\n\"Died? thou die? I will never let thee die. Where is thy pain? What is\nthy trouble?\"\n\n\"The plague,\" she said calmly. Gerard uttered a cry of horror, and\nstarted to his feet; she read his thought. \"Useless,\" said she quietly.\n\"My nose hath bled; none ever yet survived to whom that came along with\nthe plague. Bring no fools hither to babble over the body they cannot\nsave. I am but a", "he to the dead\nface. And set himself a penance for doing it; and nailed the coffin up\nhimself.\n\nThe next day Gerard was buried in Gouda churchyard. The monks followed\nhim in procession from the convent. Jerome, who was evidently carrying\nout the wishes of the deceased, read the service. The grave was a deep\none, and at the bottom of it was a lead coffin. Poor Gerard's, light as\na feather (so wasted was he), was lowered, and placed by the side of it.\n", "\nwith tears in his eyes the Cause of Gerard's illness, all his contempt\nrevived. \"Dying for a woman?\"\n\nHe determined to avert this scandal; he visited Clement twice a day\nin his cell, and tried all his old influence and all his eloquence to\ninduce him to shake off this unspiritual despondency, and not rob the\nchurch of his piety and his eloquence at so critical a period.\n\nGerard heard him, approved his reasoning, admired his strength,\nconfessed his own", "; poor\nfeeble, loving servant, thy shortcomings are forgiven, thy sorrows touch\nthine end; come thou to thy rest!' I come, Lord, I come!\"\n\nJerome groaned. \"The Church had ever her holy but feeble servants,\" he\nsaid. \"Now would I give ten years of my life to save thine. But I see it\nmay not be. Die in peace.\"\n\nAnd so it was that in a few days more Gerard lay a-dying in a frame\nof mind so holy and happy, that more than one aged", "saint was there to\ngarner his dying words. In the evening he had seen Giles, and begged him\nnot to let poor Jack starve; and to see that little Gerard's trustees\ndid their duty, and to kiss his parents for him, and to send Denys\nto his friends in Burgundy: \"Poor thing, he will feel so strange here\nwithout his comrade.\" And after that he had an interview with Jerome\nalone. What passed between them was never distinctly known; but it must\nhave been something remarkable, for Jerome went from the door with", ", thou wert like me no one was left\nthat loved thee, when Gerard was gone.\"\n\nHe went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long and\nearnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not find.\n\nComing out of the church he saw a very old man looking over the little\nchurchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him did he live in the\nplace.\n\n\"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here every day\nof late, holy father, to take", "the chest, and whispered tenderly,\n\"Gerard!\"\n\nGerard did not reply.\n\nShe then whispered a little louder, \"Gerard, all is safe, thank Heaven!\nYou may rise; but oh! be cautious!\"\n\nGerard made no reply.\n\nShe laid her hand upon his shoulder--\"Gerard!\"\n\nNo reply.\n\n\"Oh, what is this?\" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over his face\nand his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook him; she lifted\nhim", "that just before dawn there\ncame three light taps against the wall, one after another, very slow;\nand the dying man heard them, and said.\n\n\"I come, love, I come.\"\n\nThis much is certain, that Gerard did utter these words, and prepare\nfor his departure, having uttered them. He sent for all the monks who at\nthat hour were keeping vigil. They came, and hovered like gentle spirits\nround him with holy words. Some prayed in silence for him with their\nfaces touching the ground, others tenderly supported his head. But", "II\n\nA priest is never more thoroughly a priest than in the chamber of death,\nGerard did the last offices of the Church for the departed, just as\nhe should have done them for his smallest parishioner. He did this\nmechanically, then sat down stupefied by the sudden and tremendous blow,\nand not yet realizing the pangs of bereavement. Then in a transport of\nreligious enthusiasm he kneeled and thanked Heaven for her Christian\nend.\n\nAnd then all his thought was to take her away from strangers, and lay\nher in his", "es.\"\n\nHe was hurried on board at La Vere, and never saw Gerard at that time.\n\nIn 1473 Sybrandt began to fail. His pitiable existence had been\nsweetened by his brother's inventive tenderness and his own contented\nspirit, which, his antecedents considered, was truly remarkable, As for\nGerard, the day never passed that he did not devote two hours to him;\nreading or singing to him, praying with him, and drawing him about in a\nsoft carriage Margaret and he had made between them", "Gerard,\nas he lay tranquil, and gazed calmly at the ceiling, and trickled into\nwords.\n\n\"First, venerable sir, I thank you for coming to see me, whether from\nhumanity, or in the way of honest gain; all trades must live.\n\n\"Your learning, reverend sir, seems great, to me at least, and for your\nexperience, your age voucheth it.\n\n\"You say you have bled many, and of these many, many have not died\nthereafter, but lived, and done", "on hand, the anxious couple would\noften say, \"What will become of all these when we shall be no longer\nhere to take care of them?\" But when they had said this a good many\ntimes, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they used\nstill to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it half\nmechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, \"But thanks to St.\nBavon and all the saints, there's Gerard.\"\n\nYoung Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and", "'s duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with\nher brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she\nhad got him, and declined it for the sake of that which at his age she\nhad despised and sacrificed so lightly?\n\nGerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side had a\nhorrible ally in Catherine, senior. This good-hearted but uneducated\nwoman could not, like her daughter, act quietly and firmly: still less\ncould she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at", "\nshe did not speak.\n\nThen Gerard, who had loved her soul so many years, feared lest she\nshould expire with a mind too fixed on earthly affection.\n\n\"Oh my daughter,\" he cried, \"my dear daughter, if indeed thou lovest me\nas I love thee, give me not the pain of seeing thee die with thy pious\nsoul fixed on mortal things.\n\n\"Dearest lamb of all my fold, for whose soul I must answer, oh think not\nnow of mortal love, but of His who died for thee on", "could bear it no longer.\n\n\"Let me lie down and die,\" he groaned, \"for this is intolerable.\"\n\nDenys represented that it was afternoon, and the nights were now frosty;\nand cold and hunger ill companions; and that it would be unreasonable\nto lose heart, a certain great personage being notoriously defunct. So\nGerard leaned upon his axe, and hobbled on; but presently he gave in,\nall of a sudden, and sank helpless in the road.\n\nDenys drew him aside into the wood, and", "Gerard, yielding.\n\n\"I'll cheer you, mon gars.\"\n\n\"I think you would,\" said Gerard sweetly; \"and sore need have I of a\nkindly voice in mine ear this day.\"\n\n\"Oh! no soul is sad alongside me. I lift up their poor little hearts\nwith my consigne: 'Courage, tout le monde, le diable est mort.' Ha! ha!\"\n\n\"So be it, then,\" said Gerard. \"But take back your belt, for I could\nnever trust by halves. We will go", "after this a pale bowed figure entered the Dominican convent\nin the suburbs of Gouda, and sought speech with Brother Ambrose, who\ngoverned the convent as deputy, the prior having lately died, and his\nsuccessor, though appointed, not having arrived.\n\nThe sick man was Gerard, come to end life as he began it.\n\nHe entered as a novice, on probation; but the truth was, he was a\nfailing man, and knew it, and came there to die in peace, near kind and\ngentle Ambrose, his friend, and the", "gone as soon as they\nwere uttered.\n\n\"The Church!\" cried Gerard, rising furiously, and shaking his fist after\nthe friar. \"Malediction on the Church! But for the Church I should\nnot lie broken here, and she lie cold, cold, cold, in Holland. Oh, my\nMargaret! oh, my darling! my darling! And I must run from thee the few\nmonths thou hadst to live. Cruel! cruel! The monsters, they let her die.\nDeath comes not without some signs. These the", "and his father was stuck full of\ncloth-yard shafts t'other day, and died like Julius Caesar, with his\nhands folded on his bosom, and a dead dog in each of them?\"\n\nBut Gerard would not view it jestingly. \"Why, then,\" said he, \"we have\nkilled one of God's creatures that was all alone in the world-as I am\nthis day, in this strange land.\"\n\n\"You young milksop,\" roared Denys, \"these things must not be looked\nat so, or not another", "told her this unexpected trait in her Gerard. He\ncontinued, \"And even with that he bade me farewell.\n\n\"'My work here is done now,' said he. I had not the heart to stay him;\nfor let him forgive me ever so, the sight of me must be wormwood to\nhim. He left me in peace, and may a dying man's blessing wait on him, go\nwhere he will. Oh, girl, when I think of his wrongs, and thine, and how\nhe hath avenged himself by saving this stained soul of" ] ]

[ "Where does Margaret go to at the beginning of the story?", "Why do Gerard's brothers send him a false letter that Margaret has died?", "What does Gerard do after attempting suicide?", "How does Gerard discover Margaret is alive?", "Why does Margaret rush to her son's school?", "What is Gerard and Margaret's son's name?", "Who does Gerard's son become at the end?", "How does Margaret die?", "Where did Gerard and Margaret live before setting off to Rome?", "Who did Gerard's son become?", "Who is the favorite child of his parents, between Gerard and his two brothers?", "What kind of school is Gerard's son sent to?", "Who is Gerard married to?", "Why does Gerard attempt suicide in the first place?", "Why does Gerard become a Dominican friar?", "What does Gerard become, upon returning to a normal life?", "Who encourages Gerard to return to a normal life?", "What happens at the school that sends Margarett rushing to rescue her son?", "Who was Margaret Brandt?", "Who sent letter to Gerard in Holand that Margaret died?", "What happen to Gerard after he received the letter from his brother?", "What did Gerard did after survive suicide attempt?", "What did Gerard did when he found out that Margaret was alive?", "Why did Gerard became a hermit?", "What did Margaret convinced Gerard to do?", "How did Margaret died?", "What did Gerard did before he died?" ]

[ [ "She stays in Holland.", "To visit her son with the plague" ], [ "Because they want a bigger share of their family's fortune", "To receive a larger inheritance." ], [ "He takes vows and becomes a friar", "He becomes a hermit." ], [ "He discovers she's alive when he preaches in Holland", "he discovers she is alive when he is visiting Holland " ], [ "She hears that there is a plague going through the school.", "A plague breaks out at his school." ], [ "Gerard, just like his father.", "Gerard/Erasmus" ], [ "Erasmus of Rotterdam", "Erasmus of Rotterdam" ], [ "She dies by contracting the plague.", "She gets the plague" ], [ "In Holland", "Holland" ], [ "Erasmus of Rotterdam", "Erasmus of Rotterdam" ], [ "Gerard ", "Gerard" ], [ "A private school", "A private school" ], [ "Margaret Brandt", "Margaret" ], [ "He believes his mother has died", "Margaret was rumored to be dead." ], [ "because he is saved from death by chance", "He was tricked into believing his wife had died" ], [ "a vicar", "A Dominican friar" ], [ "Margaret", "Margaret" ], [ "the plague", "It is struck by a plague" ], [ "Gerard's husband.", "Margaret Roger" ], [ "Gerard's brothers", "Gerards brothers." ], [ "He became poor and tried to kill himself.", "he tries to kill himself" ], [ "He bacame a preacher", "He becomes a hermit" ], [ "He became a hermit", "He beomes a hermit." ], [ "Gerard was afraid of tempitation from Margaret.", "he is afraid of being tempted by Margaret " ], [ "Margaret convinced Gerard to come back to normal live", "Stop being a hermit" ], [ "She contracted a disease from her son school", "Plague" ], [ "Gerard renounces his vicarship.", "He was a vicar" ] ]

[ [ ". Like the rest of the town,\n badly damaged and shoddily fixed-up. But still standing.\n \n Eli walks down the street and approaches a BLACKSMITH,\n hammering out a metal plate over an anvil outside his store.\n \n ELI\n You got an engineer or a fuelman\n around here?\n \n The blacksmith doesn't look up from his work but motions\n toward a storefront at the far end of the street.\n \n ELI\n Thanks.\n \n", "\n \n A primitive, sprawling village of tents and barn-like\n structures. Built from corrugated iron, rotted wood, molded\n plastic, tarpaulin - materials scavenged from the old world.\n \n HUDDLED RESIDENTS are dressed in little more than rags, many\n wearing goggles like Eli's to shield their eyes from the sun.\n \n Eli stands at the edge of town. Reluctant to enter, but he\n braces himself and walks on in. And as he rounds a corner", ",\n entering the center of town, an astonishing sight:\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS\n \n The broad thoroughfare now all that remains of whatever town\n once stood here. Many of the old storefronts still largely\n intact but patched up with salvaged materials. The asphalt\n street warped and cracked, parking meters bent and smashed.\n \n It's a lot like the abandoned town Eli passed through\n earlier, except VERY MUCH ALIVE", "It has the power to motivate\n people. It can give them hope, it\n can terrify them. It can shape\n them. Control them.\n (BEAT)\n Do you remember how I built this\n town? It wasn't done with force,\n and it wasn't done just with water.\n It was done with the power of\n words. I created this place out of\n nothing, because people believed in\n a promise that I sold to them.\n Those guys on", "and he promised he'd take\n care of us. He told me he was going\n to make a place where we could be\n safe. And he did. He did all that.\n He built this whole town. He kept\n us safe. And he raised that child\n like she was his own. He's been so\n good to both of us. He saved us,\n really.\n \n There's a bittersweet quality to Claudia's words. As though\n there is more to the story", " \n CARNEGIE\n I know each and every one of you\n will understand the necessity of\n this action. It was faith that\n built this town - and faith that\n will sustain it even through the\n dark times that may lie ahead. But\n it is always darkest before dawn -\n and the new dawn is coming.\n (BEAT)\n May God go with you all.\n \n Carnegie steps back inside, leaving the crowd to talk among\n themselves, clearly", "The assembled residents GASP at this defiant display.\n \n 64.\n \n \n Eli sheathes his sword and takes Solara by the hand again.\n \n ELI\n Now we can go.\n \n CRANE UP over the main street as they both head out of town.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DAY\n \n The town barely visible on the distant horizon behind Eli and\n Solara. Eli walks as he always has, his pace steady and slow.\n Still,", "- BUSTLING WITH TOWNSFOLK.\n \n It's at once a familiar and also a disturbing sight - like an\n old Norman Rockwell painting of classic small-town America,\n but filtered through the devastating eye of an apocalypse. An\n unsettling juxtaposition of the old world and the new.\n \n 15.\n \n \n The centerpiece of the town is a GRAND THEATER at the head of\n the main street. THE PALLADIUM", " from within, casting a deathly pall over the skyline. BURNED\n AND BROKEN SKYSCRAPERS jut out like tombstones.\n \n Eli reaches a fork in the road and stops. The road he's on\n appears to wind off in the direction of the ruined city on\n the horizon. The other fork continues on into the wasteland.\n \n After a brief pause, Eli changes direction and heads off down\n the other fork, away from the city.\n \n EXT. ABANDONED TOWN", "mixed about what they have heard.\n \n As the assembled townsfolk disperse, FOUR MOTORCYCLES roar\n into town and pull up outside the Palladium.\n \n As the riders dismount, one detaches a CLOTH SATCHEL from his\n bike's cargo rack. The four riders head inside. They each\n have long, straggly hair and brutish expressions.\n \n We recognize them now as the BIKER BANDITS who killed the\n couple on the road under", "We'll see. This is my town, nobody\n leaves until I say they leave.\n \n He glances knowingly at Claudia.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Solara, honey, eat something.\n \n She looks at the food on the plate before her. Then closes\n her eyes and clasps her hands in prayer.\n \n SOLARA\n Our father, thank you for this meal\n which you have been so gracious to\n place before us.\n \n Claud", " CARNEGIE\n You know, I've been searching for a\n book like that one for years. All\n I've ever wanted was to bring the\n word of God to these poor\n unfortunates here. To shine its\n light upon them and give them\n something in this wretched world\n that they could believe in.\n Something to live for! It's why I\n built this town, did you know that?\n All we've been missing is the word", "He leads them across the courtyard into the prison buildings.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - DAY\n \n Redridge's remaining vehicles drive back into town and come\n to a halt outside the theater. Redridge emerges from his car,\n carrying the bible. Walks up to the Palladium and enters.\n \n INT. ALCATRAZ - CELL BLOCK - DAY\n \n What was once a cell block is now an IMMENSE LIBRARY. Stacked\n ", "ELI\n It doesn't have to.\n \n They walk on.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - DAY\n \n On the outskirts of a small town that lies in ruins. Almost\n every building burned or reduced to rubble.\n \n Except for one SMALL HOUSE. The building is damaged and worn\n but in mostly decent condition. It stands out among its\n surroundings for being the only structure still intact.\n \n The windows are BARRED. The outer structure fortified with\n SHEET M", "burned-out towns and\n retail neighborhoods. Gutted and dead, like every place else.\n \n But something is different here. Things are greener. Tufts of\n grass here and there. They attract Solara's attention.\n \n SOLARA\n What's that?\n \n Eli reaches down and runs his hand through the grass.\n \n ELI\n It's grass. It used to grow all\n over the place.\n \n SOLARA\n How", ", selling it harder than ever.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And mark me, the ultimate\n validation of that faith is coming!\n The sacred Word of Our Lord that\n formed the world before and will\n reform it once again is coming to\n this town to bring it succor, bring\n it nourishment, bring it new life!\n For the Almighty Himself has spoken\n unto me and promised it!\n \n Carnegie is such an impassioned and insp", "\n \n He doesn't look back at her. She turns and exits.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS\n \n Solara exits via the Palladium's STAGE DOOR and walks across\n the busy street to where TWO OF CARNEGIE'S ARMED MEN stand\n guard around an ENCLOSURE OF CHAIN-LINK FENCE TOPPED WITH\n RAZOR WIRE. TOWNSFOLK wait in", "\n \n The road has since emerged from the forest. Passing now\n through a wasteland of dead scrub brush and urban junk.\n \n The sun beats down from directly overhead. The sky has no\n color to it, paper-white. The unfiltered sun's stark light\n leaves everything seeming bleached-out, over-exposed.\n \n CRANE UP as Eli walks on. On the horizon is the silhouette of\n a CITY. Or what was once a city. Columns of BLACK SMOKE rise\n", "ETAL and other custom patch-ups. The whole plot\n surrounded by a CHAIN-LINK FENCE TOPPED WITH RAZOR WIRE.\n \n Eli and Solara crouch behind a pile of rubble nearby.\n \n SOLARA\n I don't get it. It looks almost...\n normal. Like nothing ever happened.\n How can it still be out here?\n \n 84.\n \n \n ELI\n I don't know.", "together. And how far we\n still can go, if only we believe.\n When I brought us here to this\n oasis - this promised land - we\n knew there would be hardships. Knew\n there would be sacrifices. But we\n also knew that we were creating for\n ourselves a world where we could be\n safe from the horrors of the\n forsaken lands beyond our borders.\n \n The crowd listens intently, hanging on Carnegie's every word.\n He is" ], [ "- DAY\n \n Little more than a main street lined with storefronts. Eli\n walks steadily along, side-stepping rubble and debris.\n Ignoring the petrified corpses lying in the street.\n \n He passes by abandoned stores, every one picked clean. Empty\n shelves, smashed windows. Looted and burned. He doesn't even\n look inside, knowing already that he will find nothing.\n \n Until he comes to a store that does cause him to stop. An old-\n fashioned sign squeaks on", "the others, the store has been\n cleaned out. Shoe racks and empty boxes strewn over the\n floor. The whole place reeking of dead, musty air.\n \n Eli looks around, just to be sure. Drags his sheathed sword\n idly along the empty racks as he checks them. Nothing.\n \n As he turns back for the door, his foot nudges against a shoe\n box. It's not empty. He crouches down, flips the lid off\n hopefully... and pulls out a LADY'", " Well, you sure as hell found it. Do\n you know who I am?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n CARNEGIE\n My name's Carnegie. I own this bar.\n I own the whole town. You've never\n heard of me?\n \n ELI\n That's you out there on the street.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Remarkable likeness, isn't it?\n You", " \n The bartender looks at Hog nervously.\n \n BARTENDER\n Hey, how about another drink, Hog?\n \n HOG\n That cat's been comin' in here for\n nigh on two years. It got more\n right to be here than you. Who the\n fuck do you think you are?\n \n ELI\n I don't want any trouble.\n \n Hog grabs him by the arm.\n \n HO", "\n Old ripped-out theater seats arranged around tables. A\n FIREPLACE sputters dimly.\n \n A MANGY TABBY CAT walks across the straw-laden floor. A dozen\n or so CUSTOMERS in the place, a mixed, rough-looking bunch.\n \n Redridge emerges from an upstairs room and nods to a group of\n his MEN who are holding the bikers at the foot of the stairs.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNE", "main counter a convoluted Rube Goldberg-esque\n STILL is running. An ENGINEER in a leather apron pours the\n remnants of a can of motor oil into the still's funnel.\n \n Attached to the still is an old MOTORCYCLE MIRROR. In its\n reflection the engineer sees Eli checking out the store.\n \n Without turning around, he reaches surreptitiously behind the\n counter for something.\n \n Eli turns toward the counter - to find the engineer training\n ", " The man seems more suspicious than his wife. He drags Eli's\n shotgun toward him with his foot, hands it to his wife.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli. This is Solara.\n We're travelers, that's all. We\n don't mean you any harm.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n You cut my padlock. I saw you.\n Trying to break into", ". Like the rest of the town,\n badly damaged and shoddily fixed-up. But still standing.\n \n Eli walks down the street and approaches a BLACKSMITH,\n hammering out a metal plate over an anvil outside his store.\n \n ELI\n You got an engineer or a fuelman\n around here?\n \n The blacksmith doesn't look up from his work but motions\n toward a storefront at the far end of the street.\n \n ELI\n Thanks.\n \n", "\n No, sir. I... like what you've done\n with the place.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n What's your business here?\n \n ELI\n No business. We're sorry to have\n troubled you. If you'll let us down\n we'll happily be on our way.\n \n The wife steps forward, she's much warmer, less guarded.\n \n ELDERLY WOMAN\n George, look at them", "rusted hinges in the breeze.\n \n 4.\n \n \n ED'S SHOES - GENTLEMEN'S AND LADIES' FOOTWEAR\n \n He steps into the doorway and pushes open the door. It swings\n open on its one remaining hinge before splintering away from\n the frame and crashing to the floor in a cloud of dust.\n \n INT. SHOE STORE - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli steps inside. Like all", "our house.\n \n ELI\n I'm sorry. We didn't think anybody\n lived here. We thought it was\n abandoned, like all the rest.\n \n This seems to annoy the man.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Take a look around you. Look at\n this yard. Does it look abandoned\n to you?\n \n Clearly he's proud of the work he's done with the pitiful\n means at his disposal.\n \n ELI", " \n Satisfied with the pelts, the bartender gathers them up along\n with the scarf, then turns away toward the back room.\n \n BARTENDER\n Solara!\n \n A TEENAGE GIRL emerges from the back. No older than 16 or 17.\n Dressed in unflattering work clothes, face grimy, blonde hair\n tied back in a ponytail. But even through all this, it's\n clear she is a strikingly beautiful young woman.", "ist. But Eli is unmoved.\n \n ELI\n It's none of my business what you\n do here. Like you said, it's your\n town. I just want to be on my way.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What's your name, walker?\n \n Eli doesn't respond. Just stands there.\n \n CARNEGIE\n All right, I guess we just call you\n Walker. Don't see too many folks\n ", "\n \n He doesn't look back at her. She turns and exits.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS\n \n Solara exits via the Palladium's STAGE DOOR and walks across\n the busy street to where TWO OF CARNEGIE'S ARMED MEN stand\n guard around an ENCLOSURE OF CHAIN-LINK FENCE TOPPED WITH\n RAZOR WIRE. TOWNSFOLK wait in", "like\n cattle by a brutish CHAIN GANG BOSS who swats at them with a\n stick to keep them moving and indicate direction.\n \n CHAIN GANG BOSS\n Come on, move it!\n \n The gang boss glares at Eli as he passes by. Eli doesn't\n return the look, just continues crossing the street as the\n blind are herded away. Headed toward a wooden building with a\n pictogram of a LIGHTNING BOLT suspended above the door.\n \n INT. ENGINEER", "desperately at him.\n \n Eli struggles violently with the cat, wrestling it to the\n ground and grabbing up a HUNK OF FALLEN BRANCH. He holds the\n writhing animal down and CLUBS IT until it lays still.\n \n He sits back, breathing harder than the dustmask will allow.\n He yanks it down, revealing the dirty, unshaven face beneath.\n Impossible to tell his age, but certainly not a young man.\n \n For a moment he just sits there. Then bundles up the", "response. Quietly, she moves forward, kneeling by his\n side. She opens his coat and checks the pockets. Empty.\n \n She goes deeper, peeling back the layers of clothing,\n stealthily frisking him. She finds something on his lapel,\n hidden under several layers, that causes her to stop.\n \n It's a RECTANGULAR PLASTIC BADGE. The red, white and blue\n colors faded and worn. It reads:\n \n WELCOME TO WAL-MART\n", ".O.V. - too far to make out much detail, but\n apparently it is a MIDDLE-AGED COUPLE.\n \n The man pushes along an OLD WHEELBARROW covered by a tarp as\n the woman, seemingly his wife, walks alongside. The barrow's\n rusted wheel gives out a plaintive, rhythmic SQUEAK.\n \n Eli ducks down again as he hears something else. This time\n much louder. The menacing growl of MOTORCYCLE ENGINES", " Go! Go!\n \n They spot Eli sprinting away and rush off in pursuit.\n \n Carnegie gets to his feet and storms back inside the theater.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Solara and Claudia watch through the window. Turn suddenly\n when they hear the door slam open behind them.\n \n Carnegie stands in the doorway, glaring at them.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET -", "the road you sleep with one eye\n open. I asked you what you were\n doing.\n \n SOLARA\n I just wanted to see the book.\n \n ELI\n You want to see the book, you ask\n me. Nobody touches it but me. Ever.\n Until it gets where it's going. Do\n you understand?\n \n He's very forceful. She nods, a little afraid of him.\n \n ELI\n Tell me you" ], [ "oil lamp on the table. The\n room is lit by its flickering glow.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Can I get you anything else?\n \n ELI\n No, thank you.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well. Have a good night.\n \n As she turns for the door:\n \n ELI\n You're Carnegie's woman?\n \n CLAUDIA\n Why do you ask?\n \n E", "kind of talk. It's not what I\n need from you right now.\n (SMILES)\n You know what I need right now?\n \n He puts his hands on her lustfully. It's clear she's not in\n the mood, but she halfheartedly responds anyway. More out of\n a sense of wifely duty than reciprocated passion.\n \n As they kiss, Carnegie pushes her excitedly against the wall\n and feverishly begins unbuckling his pants.\n \n", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", "Her name is CLAUDIA. Early 30s, pretty. She gazes into the\n mirror as she dries her hands, but it's so cracked and warped\n it's near impossible to see a reflection.\n \n The door opens and Carnegie enters. He still looks steamed.\n Claudia doesn't turn to look at him, keeps facing the mirror.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Is that you, honey?\n \n Carnegie says nothing. Just paces angrily up and down", "Claudia.\n Sooner or later you're going to\n have to accept that. She has to\n earn her keep around here, same as\n the rest of us.\n \n CLAUDIA\n By working as a whore? That's all\n you think she's fit for?\n \n 45.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n We've each been given a talent to\n help us make our way in this world.\n", "AY\n \n Carnegie has Claudia pinned against the wall, his pants\n bunched around his ankles, ass bared as he pounds away at\n her. Not making love. This is mechanical, loveless sex.\n \n Claudia stares vacantly over his shoulder into space as\n Carnegie thrusts into her again and again. Deeply\n uninterested, just waiting for it to be over.\n \n Suddenly, we hear a CRASH O.S. Carnegie stops and listens.\n \n CAR", "she's trembling, afraid to speak.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry.\n \n Carnegie realizes he's frightened her. He softens.\n \n CARNEGIE\n No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to\n scare you. Hey. You okay?\n \n He lifts her chin up, wipes away a tear.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You just get me all riled up with\n that", "GIE\n What do you think, darling? A whole\n new world, to do with as we will.\n Won't that be grand?\n \n She smiles halfheartedly, but it's clear she is mortified.\n \n Carnegie turns back to Redridge.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Find that book.\n \n REDRIDGE\n He has half a day on us already.\n \n CARNEGIE\n So use the motor pool", "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "abs it up and tries to rip it in two,\n but it's too thick to tear. Red-faced with rage, he tosses it\n out over the box balcony. It lands somewhere in the dark\n auditorium below, between the rows of gutted theater seats.\n \n As he paces angrily back past Claudia:\n \n CLAUDIA\n Bill, is there something-\n \n CARNEGIE\n Just go. Just get out of my sight.\n \n He sl", " ELI\n So did I.\n \n Eli closes the door, then sits back at the table.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - CARNEGIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT\n \n Carnegie washes, looking at himself in the old dressing-room\n mirror. He sees Claudia enter the room in its dim reflection.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You took your time in there. How\n long does it take to deliver a\n plate of food and", " \n CARNEGIE\n How was your night? Did you sleep\n well?\n \n Claudia appears perturbed by Carnegie's subtle probing.\n Solara flashes him a frosty look.\n \n SOLARA\n I did like you asked. Isn't that\n what you really want to know? Just\n come out and say it.\n \n Carnegie glares at her sternly.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You don'", "LI (V.O.)\n Thank you for your protection and\n for your many signs along the way.\n \n She stops in a nondescript corner of the yard.\n \n At her feet is a SHALLOW MOUND OF DIRT. At the head of the\n mound, a SIMPLE TOMBSTONE.\n \n She kneels and places a SINGLE FLOWER on the grave.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - CARNEGIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", " CARNEGIE\n You know, I've been searching for a\n book like that one for years. All\n I've ever wanted was to bring the\n word of God to these poor\n unfortunates here. To shine its\n light upon them and give them\n something in this wretched world\n that they could believe in.\n Something to live for! It's why I\n built this town, did you know that?\n All we've been missing is the word", ". If there's something\n wrong, maybe I can help.\n \n Carnegie is a practiced liar. Much more difficult to read.\n \n 40.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n This is Redridge. He's kind of my\n right-hand man around here.\n \n Redridge - one of the two men who chased Eli into the room -\n steps forward. He regards Eli with a distrustful eye.\n \n CARNEGIE", "\n I don't live without fear. I\n haven't for a long time now.\n \n Carnegie calms himself, backs off. Claudia goes to leave.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Where are you going?\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm not going to let you do this.\n \n Carnegie surges forward and pins Claudia to the wall.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You're not going to let me?\n", "the freeway overpass.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - SECOND FLOOR - DAY\n \n Carnegie emerges into the second-floor hallway from the\n balcony, mopping his brow. Exhausted and stressed from his\n grand theatrical display, and from its mixed reception.\n \n Redridge climbs the stairs to meet him.\n \n REDRIDGE\n One of the road crews just rolled\n into town.\n \n Carnegie looks at his cracked old", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't" ], [ "than she is telling.\n \n Eli pulls out a chair at the table, offers it to her.\n \n ELI\n You want to eat some?\n \n She smiles and sits. Eli sits across from her.\n \n ELI\n When did you go blind? In the war?\n You get caught in a flash?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No, I was born this way. I think\n I'm lucky like that.\n \n ELI\n L", "ucky?\n \n CLAUDIA\n It's not like I ever knew what I'm\n missing. I was already used to\n being like this by the time... by\n the time it all happened. So I got\n around pretty good even when I was\n on my own. And now it's easy. I\n know every creaky old floorboard in\n here, and it's not like I ever go\n any place else. Bill would never\n allow it. He", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "worries about me so\n much.\n \n Again, bittersweet. The sense that Claudia feels trapped.\n Thinking about it begins to upset her. She gets up.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I should go. He'll be wondering\n where I am.\n \n 43.\n \n \n Eli stands, escorts her to the door and opens it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Thank you. I enjoyed our\n conversation.\n \n", "Claudia.\n Sooner or later you're going to\n have to accept that. She has to\n earn her keep around here, same as\n the rest of us.\n \n CLAUDIA\n By working as a whore? That's all\n you think she's fit for?\n \n 45.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n We've each been given a talent to\n help us make our way in this world.\n", " Some people's gift is more evident\n than others. Solara's sure as hell\n is.\n \n Claudia looks at Carnegie in disgust.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What kind of a man are you?\n \n Now it's Carnegie's turn to get angry. He rounds on her\n menacingly. She backs off as he approaches.\n \n CARNEGIE\n I'm the kind of man who'd pull a\n helpless blind", "some water?\n \n A subtly accusing tone. It makes Claudia nervous.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He wanted to talk.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh? What about?\n \n CLAUDIA\n Nothing really. He asked me what it\n was like to be blind.\n \n CARNEGIE\n He tell you anything about him?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No. I don't think he", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "Her name is CLAUDIA. Early 30s, pretty. She gazes into the\n mirror as she dries her hands, but it's so cracked and warped\n it's near impossible to see a reflection.\n \n The door opens and Carnegie enters. He still looks steamed.\n Claudia doesn't turn to look at him, keeps facing the mirror.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Is that you, honey?\n \n Carnegie says nothing. Just paces angrily up and down", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", "and he promised he'd take\n care of us. He told me he was going\n to make a place where we could be\n safe. And he did. He did all that.\n He built this whole town. He kept\n us safe. And he raised that child\n like she was his own. He's been so\n good to both of us. He saved us,\n really.\n \n There's a bittersweet quality to Claudia's words. As though\n there is more to the story", "\n You're going to read it for me.\n Every word. And I'm going to write\n it down. Start at the beginning.\n \n As Carnegie hunts on his desk for a paper and pen, Claudia\n opens the book and trails her fingertips across the raised\n lettering.\n \n 111.\n \n \n For a moment there is a glimmer of recognition... a faint\n smile... but then it fades as Carnegie turns back to her,\n eager", "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", "LI\n Just making conversation is all.\n Haven't had one of those in a\n while. Not a real one, leastways.\n \n Claudia smiles. Neither has she.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He found me in the outland. I was\n sixteen, my family had been...\n well, they were gone. There was\n just me and my baby.\n \n ELI\n You had a baby?\n \n CLAUDIA\n ", "it?\n \n ELI\n Oh. Thank you.\n \n He takes the stuff from her, sets it on the table.\n \n 41.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n You're very welcome.\n \n We get the impression that Claudia is as unfamiliar with this\n kind of polite interaction as Eli. But she likes it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n It'll be dark soon.\n \n She strikes a match and lights the", "girl off the road, a\n girl who'd been beaten and raped,\n and give her a place where she can\n live without fear! Without me you'd\n be just another no-eye, lying dead\n in the outland, picked clean by the\n buzzards, or shoveling dirt down\n there with the others. That's the\n kind of man I am!\n \n He has her against the wall, his face just inches from hers.\n \n CLAUDIA", "AY\n \n Carnegie has Claudia pinned against the wall, his pants\n bunched around his ankles, ass bared as he pounds away at\n her. Not making love. This is mechanical, loveless sex.\n \n Claudia stares vacantly over his shoulder into space as\n Carnegie thrusts into her again and again. Deeply\n uninterested, just waiting for it to be over.\n \n Suddenly, we hear a CRASH O.S. Carnegie stops and listens.\n \n CAR" ], [ "t trust it with\n anyone. Not even for a while.\n \n 52.\n \n \n SOLARA\n What's so special about that book?\n \n BEAT. Eli runs his fingers across the embossed gold cross on\n the beat-up leather cover.\n \n ELI\n It's the last one. There are no\n other books like this. All the\n others are gone - destroyed by the\n war or in the burnings that came", "waning sunlight shafts through the bedroom's\n broken window. Eli rummages through his backpack, pulls out a\n SMALL PACKAGE wrapped in cloth and tied fast with string.\n \n He sits back in his corner and carefully unwraps it. It's an\n OLD LEATHER-BOUND BOOK. The binding cracked and pages dog-\n eared, thumbed through a thousand times and more.\n \n Eli gazes lovingly at it. Lets his fingers play across the\n beat-up old leather cover. A cherished", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "As she walks away into the sun, her lonely silhouette on the\n road reminds us of Eli as we saw him so many times before.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n I have kept the faith.\n \n She grows smaller and smaller as she walks into the distance,\n until she consumed by the rising sun and we\n \n FADE OUT:\n \n \n\n", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", ".\n \n ELI (cont'd)\n It told me that a path would be\n laid out before me, that I'd be led\n to a place where this book would be\n safe. It told me I'd be protected\n against anyone or anything that\n tried to stand in my way. If only I\n would have faith.\n (BEAT)\n That was twenty-five years ago. And\n I've been walking ever since.\n \n SOLAR", "down. Eli just stares right back. Totally\n unflappable. Redridge motions to his men.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Check the pack.\n \n The gunman carrying Eli's pack opens it up and tips its\n contents out onto the ground. The ghillie suit, battery, some\n old canned goods, other odds and ends. No sign of the book.\n \n CARNEGIE GUNMAN #4\n It ain't here.\n \n ", "more coughing. Eli tries to get up, but\n winces in pain. Puts his hand to his side, it comes back WET\n WITH BLOOD. A bad wound. He covers it with his coat, stands\n and moves through the smoke.\n \n ELI\n Solara?\n \n SOLARA (O.S.)\n Eli!\n \n He finds her in the smoke. She embraces him.\n \n ELI\n Are you all right?\n \n ", " Redridge clutches his bloody hand, glares at Eli furiously.\n Pulls his gun again and marches right up to him, pressing the\n muzzle tight against his forehead.\n \n REDRIDGE\n If you don't got the book, what\n fucking use are you?\n \n His finger tightens on the trigger.\n \n SOLARA\n Wait!\n \n She breaks from the gunmen holding her and rushes toward\n Redridge. Reaches inside her dress", "floor to ceiling with books. Lombardi shows Eli and Solara\n around. Behind them, a pair of ARMED GUARDS follow closely.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Yes, we've been doing this for some\n time now. Collected over thirty\n thousand volumes from generous\n donors all across the nation. We\n even have a printing press that we\n hope to have operational soon.\n \n Solara is stunned as she surveys the endless stacks of books.\n She's never", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", "it's true. Nowadays it's\n not the same. If you're sick or\n you're weak or you're old you won't\n last long out on the road.\n \n SOLARA\n So how come you have?\n \n BEAT. Eli thinks. Should he or shouldn't he?\n \n ELI\n Can I read you something?\n \n SOLARA\n Wait. You can read?\n \n Eli pulls the book from", "the road you sleep with one eye\n open. I asked you what you were\n doing.\n \n SOLARA\n I just wanted to see the book.\n \n ELI\n You want to see the book, you ask\n me. Nobody touches it but me. Ever.\n Until it gets where it's going. Do\n you understand?\n \n He's very forceful. She nods, a little afraid of him.\n \n ELI\n Tell me you", " \n ELI\n Same as always. Keep heading west.\n \n SOLARA\n Why? I mean, you don't have the\n book any more.\n \n 102.\n \n \n ELI\n But I still have my faith.\n \n They walk on together, into the sunset.\n \n EXT. NORTHERN CALIFORNIA - MONTAGE - DAY\n \n Eli and Solara follow the road through", "thing.\n \n He begins to read, half-hidden in the shadows of the fading\n sunlight. Silently mouthing the words as he reads them.\n \n MANY PAGES LATER\n \n Eli closes the book and parcels it back up as before.\n Replaces it in his pack, then reaches in for something else.\n \n A CAR BATTERY. Old and streaked with acid stains. Attached to\n a tangled bunch of ELECTRICAL WIRING and JUMPER CABLE", "CK at the door. Eli jumps up and hurriedly hides\n the book inside his shirt.\n \n ELI\n Come in.\n \n The door opens to reveal Solara. Looking very different than\n she did before. Cleaned up and wearing a flowery summer\n dress, blonde hair let down over her shoulders. Stunning.\n \n Unlike everyone else we have met, she seems - physically, at\n least - totally unscarred by the horrors of the times. Far\n too beautiful a thing to belong in a world like", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "old clothes. She's on her knees trying to gather it up.\n \n She looks up as she sees Eli approaching. Instantly cowers\n from him, raising her hands to protect herself. Terrified.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Oh. Please don't hurt me. Here,\n take anything you want. You want\n some food? Take it.\n \n She offers him a can of pet food with a trembling hand. Eli\n stands there looking at her. His expression impossible to\n read behind the mir", "of the besieged house. She runs from the vehicle to\n where ELI'S SWORD lies in the dirt and grabs it up.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DUSK\n \n Solara races down the road in the car, pedal to the metal.\n \n SOLARA\n Come on, come on...\n \n Eventually, she sees him. At first just a dot on the horizon.\n But unmistakably Eli. By now, she'd know him anywhere.\n \n Suddenly the engine" ], [ "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", "desperately at him.\n \n Eli struggles violently with the cat, wrestling it to the\n ground and grabbing up a HUNK OF FALLEN BRANCH. He holds the\n writhing animal down and CLUBS IT until it lays still.\n \n He sits back, breathing harder than the dustmask will allow.\n He yanks it down, revealing the dirty, unshaven face beneath.\n Impossible to tell his age, but certainly not a young man.\n \n For a moment he just sits there. Then bundles up the", "ers\n swarm over the man like a pack of predatory animals.\n \n The woman is pulled to the ground and the clothes stripped\n from her. Eli turns away. He knows what comes next.\n \n Eli listens as the woman screams and screams. He reaches for\n his shotgun... hesitates... then withdraws his hand.\n \n ELI\n It ain't your concern. Stay on the\n path. It ain't your concern. Stay\n on the path.\n \n Eli repe", "few PRAIRIE DOG\n BURROWS dotted around.\n \n A PRAIRIE DOG pops its head up, scans the horizon. Sniffing\n the air, whiskers twitching... and is SKEWERED BY AN ARROW.\n \n Thirty yards away, one of the pieces of scrub brush appears\n to COME ALIVE. And then we realize it is Eli's GHILLIE SUIT,\n camouflaging both he and Solara beneath it.\n \n Eli casts", "like\n cattle by a brutish CHAIN GANG BOSS who swats at them with a\n stick to keep them moving and indicate direction.\n \n CHAIN GANG BOSS\n Come on, move it!\n \n The gang boss glares at Eli as he passes by. Eli doesn't\n return the look, just continues crossing the street as the\n blind are herded away. Headed toward a wooden building with a\n pictogram of a LIGHTNING BOLT suspended above the door.\n \n INT. ENGINEER", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", " The man seems more suspicious than his wife. He drags Eli's\n shotgun toward him with his foot, hands it to his wife.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli. This is Solara.\n We're travelers, that's all. We\n don't mean you any harm.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n You cut my padlock. I saw you.\n Trying to break into", "more coughing. Eli tries to get up, but\n winces in pain. Puts his hand to his side, it comes back WET\n WITH BLOOD. A bad wound. He covers it with his coat, stands\n and moves through the smoke.\n \n ELI\n Solara?\n \n SOLARA (O.S.)\n Eli!\n \n He finds her in the smoke. She embraces him.\n \n ELI\n Are you all right?\n \n ", "go back inside, leaving Eli and Solara\n gazing at the little graveyard.\n \n ELI\n We have to get out of here.\n \n SOLARA\n They look so sweet... I would never\n have believed they were killers.\n \n ELI\n They're worse than that.\n \n SOLARA\n What?\n \n ELI\n They didn't just kill these people.\n (BEAT)\n They", " \n MARTHA\n Are you sure you won't stay?\n \n ELI\n Yes. Thank you again for the tea.\n \n Eli stares George down. Reluctantly, George steps aside. Eli\n opens the door and escorts Solara outside.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli and Solara emerge into the sunlight. Walk down the garden\n path. And FREEZE IN THEIR TRACKS.\n \n THE ARMED VEHIC", "old clothes. She's on her knees trying to gather it up.\n \n She looks up as she sees Eli approaching. Instantly cowers\n from him, raising her hands to protect herself. Terrified.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Oh. Please don't hurt me. Here,\n take anything you want. You want\n some food? Take it.\n \n She offers him a can of pet food with a trembling hand. Eli\n stands there looking at her. His expression impossible to\n read behind the mir", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "of the besieged house. She runs from the vehicle to\n where ELI'S SWORD lies in the dirt and grabs it up.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DUSK\n \n Solara races down the road in the car, pedal to the metal.\n \n SOLARA\n Come on, come on...\n \n Eventually, she sees him. At first just a dot on the horizon.\n But unmistakably Eli. By now, she'd know him anywhere.\n \n Suddenly the engine", "ara\n against the wall. She sobs, terrified. Eli levels the shotgun\n at Carnegie's head.\n \n ELI\n Let her go.\n \n 62.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n That cannon of yours casts a pretty\n wide net. I don't reckon you can\n hit me without hitting her.\n \n ELI\n I reckon you're right.\n \n He holsters the shotgun", "\n Thank you.\n \n 34.\n \n \n In the exitway, Hog turns back inside, grabbing up a BROKEN\n BOTTLE from the bloody floor as he goes.\n \n Hog rushes Eli from behind. Solara sees him coming and goes\n to SCREAM - but before any sound can come, Eli flips his\n sword backward and Hog runs right onto it, SKEWERING HIMSELF.\n \n BEAT. Hog just stands there for a moment", "G\n Well, that's too bad, `cause-\n \n Blink. Suddenly Hog's head is pinned to the bar by nothing\n more than Eli's thumb. Pressed deep into a nerve cluster in\n his neck. Eli leans in close as Hog whimpers, paralyzed.\n \n ELI\n I know you. Murderer of innocent\n travelers on the road. You're going\n to spend eternity drowning in a\n lake of fire for the things that", "ELI\n It doesn't have to.\n \n They walk on.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - DAY\n \n On the outskirts of a small town that lies in ruins. Almost\n every building burned or reduced to rubble.\n \n Except for one SMALL HOUSE. The building is damaged and worn\n but in mostly decent condition. It stands out among its\n surroundings for being the only structure still intact.\n \n The windows are BARRED. The outer structure fortified with\n SHEET M", "s right at the end of the main road, the\n perimeter where the town meets the open desert. He's free.\n \n And then, A GIRL'S SCREAM. Distant but unmistakable.\n \n Eli whips around. In the upstairs window of the theater,\n Carnegie shoves Solara roughly against the wall. Barking\n angrily at her, shaking her.\n \n Eli looks at the road. Then up at the theater. Then back to\n the road again.\n \n E", " Eli and Solara make their way carefully across the bridge. It\n feels highly unstable and sags low over the bay, the waters\n below close enough to lap around their ankles.\n \n EXT. ALCATRAZ ISLAND - DAY\n \n Eli and Solara arrive at the prison gates. Securely locked.\n As they inspect it for a possible way to enter:\n \n VOICE (O.S.)\n Who goes there?\n \n They look up. A GUARD in paramil", " 13.\n \n \n The overpass's collapsed section is now just a MOUNTAINOUS\n PILE OF RUBBLE that leads down to the road below.\n \n Eli steps onto the rubble. About to make his way down when he\n FREEZES. He hears something. The faintest of sounds. He takes\n cover, peering down at the road beneath the overpass to see:\n \n TWO PEOPLE walking together on the road. We see everything\n from ELI'S P" ], [ "port and pours into the cups. But it's not\n tea, only water. Somewhat murky water. Eli and Solara stare\n at the cups, unsure. Martha gestures toward them.\n \n MARTHA\n Please.\n \n They raise their cups and take a sip. Martha watches eagerly.\n It's clearly a thrill for her to be doing something as\n civilized and elegant as serving \"tea\" to guests.\n \n 87.\n \n \n M", "?\n \n Eli and Solara exchange a look. What the hell is this?\n \n INT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY\n \n It's like something out of the world before. The interior is\n almost perfectly preserved. Chintzy couches. A mahogany\n table. A TV set in the corner. Lace curtains. Unreal.\n \n Eli and Solara sit on the couch, feeling self-conscious and\n looking entirely out of place in this cozy environment.\n \n George sits across", " \n MARTHA\n Are you sure you won't stay?\n \n ELI\n Yes. Thank you again for the tea.\n \n Eli stares George down. Reluctantly, George steps aside. Eli\n opens the door and escorts Solara outside.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli and Solara emerge into the sunlight. Walk down the garden\n path. And FREEZE IN THEIR TRACKS.\n \n THE ARMED VEHIC", "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", "atus. Releases the rope,\n dropping Eli and Solara to the ground in a heap.\n \n The old woman helps them to their feet. They shake off the\n noose from their ankles.\n \n ELDERLY WOMAN\n I'm so sorry about my husband. We\n so rarely get visitors these days,\n he's suspicious of everybody.\n (BEAT)\n I'm Martha and this is my husband\n George. Would you care for some\n tea", "CK at the door. Eli jumps up and hurriedly hides\n the book inside his shirt.\n \n ELI\n Come in.\n \n The door opens to reveal Solara. Looking very different than\n she did before. Cleaned up and wearing a flowery summer\n dress, blonde hair let down over her shoulders. Stunning.\n \n Unlike everyone else we have met, she seems - physically, at\n least - totally unscarred by the horrors of the times. Far\n too beautiful a thing to belong in a world like", "ARTHA\n How do you like it?\n \n ELI\n It's.. uh...\n \n SOLARA\n It's very good.\n \n Martha smiles, delighted. She lifts her own cup to her lips.\n HER HANDS TREMBLE, the cup rattling against the saucer.\n \n ELI\n Have you always lived here?\n \n MARTHA\n For almost forty years now. This\n home is", "the night. Eli stops and sniffs the air.\n \n SOLARA\n What?\n \n ELI\n Do you smell that?\n \n SOLARA\n Smell what?\n \n ELI\n Salt in the air. We're close to the\n ocean. We're almost there.\n \n 103.\n \n \n EXT. CALIFORNIA ROAD - DAWN\n \n They keep on along the", " Eli and Solara make their way carefully across the bridge. It\n feels highly unstable and sags low over the bay, the waters\n below close enough to lap around their ankles.\n \n EXT. ALCATRAZ ISLAND - DAY\n \n Eli and Solara arrive at the prison gates. Securely locked.\n As they inspect it for a possible way to enter:\n \n VOICE (O.S.)\n Who goes there?\n \n They look up. A GUARD in paramil", " \n ELI\n How'd you know that?\n \n SOLARA\n My mom says I'm a good judge of\n character. She says I can read\n people. That I know a good man when\n I see one.\n \n She smiles. Eli is surprised to find himself smiling back.\n \n SOLARA\n So... you're pretty old, right?\n \n Eli smiles, amused by the bluntness of the question.\n \n", "go back inside, leaving Eli and Solara\n gazing at the little graveyard.\n \n ELI\n We have to get out of here.\n \n SOLARA\n They look so sweet... I would never\n have believed they were killers.\n \n ELI\n They're worse than that.\n \n SOLARA\n What?\n \n ELI\n They didn't just kill these people.\n (BEAT)\n They", "this.\n \n SOLARA\n Hi. Can I come in?\n \n ELI\n Someone was already here with food\n and water. I got everything I need.\n \n SOLARA\n You sure about that?\n \n She glides into the room, closing the door. She's good. Very\n seductive. Eli is totally disarmed in her presence.\n \n SOLARA\n It's too bright in here. Mind if I\n ", "gate with a metallic SQUEAK.\n \n They move inside, up the garden path. Though the soil in the\n yard is dead, it's been carefully raked and tended. WEEDS\n arranged in thoughtful patterns, like real flowers.\n \n SOLARA\n This is weird.\n \n ELI\n Yeah.\n \n Eli steps forward, his foot planting on a CRACKED PAVING\n STONE that shifts almost imperceptibly under his feet.\n Accompanied by", " The man seems more suspicious than his wife. He drags Eli's\n shotgun toward him with his foot, hands it to his wife.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli. This is Solara.\n We're travelers, that's all. We\n don't mean you any harm.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n You cut my padlock. I saw you.\n Trying to break into", " Solara looks at Eli, puzzled. Lombardi finds it hard to\n contain his excitement.\n \n LOMBARDI\n My goodness. I can't tell you how\n exciting this is. Well, come, come!\n (MORE)\n \n 107.\n \n LOMBARDI (cont'd)\n I'll give you the nickel tour and\n then we can all sit down and take a\n look at it.\n \n ", "\n \n Solara looks at him, touched by that.\n \n ELI\n Amen.\n (BEAT)\n You say that last part too.\n \n SOLARA\n Amen. And now we eat?\n \n ELI\n And now we eat.\n \n They sit and eat together, sharing the simple meal.\n \n PULL OUT from the window as they eat, away from the theater.\n Away from the town and its flickering points of torchlight", "OLARA\n That I'm your friend.\n \n BEAT. Eli finds himself surprised that he admitted such a\n thing. When is the last time he had someone he could call a\n friend? He can't even remember.\n \n ELI\n Sure.\n \n She smiles. Giggles as the rat's whiskers tickle her ear.\n \n Eli breaks the cheese in two and gives half to Solara. She's\n about to eat but stops as Eli clasp his hands in prayer.\n ", "LES ARE COMING. Driving toward them out of the\n horizon in a hazy cloud of dust.\n \n SOLARA\n Oh no... it's my dad. It's his men.\n \n 90.\n \n \n ELI\n Are you sure?\n \n SOLARA\n I recognize the cars.\n \n ELI\n Back inside.\n \n Eli bundles Solara back into the house. George stands in the\n doorway", "all. Bring out the girl\n with the book.\n \n INT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli is crouched beneath the window. George and Martha have\n taken up positions at other windows, peering out.\n \n REDRIDGE (O.S.)\n That's all we want. The girl and\n the book. The rest of you's can go\n your way.\n \n SOLARA\n What are we going", "behind him, a hundred yards back.\n \n SOLARA\n Eli! Eli!\n \n He doesn't stop or look back. Just keeps on walking.\n \n She finally catches up with him, breathing hard, exhausted.\n \n 101.\n \n \n SOLARA\n Eli...\n \n ELI\n Thought you'd gone back to town.\n \n SOLARA\n I can't go back there. Eli" ], [ "like\n cattle by a brutish CHAIN GANG BOSS who swats at them with a\n stick to keep them moving and indicate direction.\n \n CHAIN GANG BOSS\n Come on, move it!\n \n The gang boss glares at Eli as he passes by. Eli doesn't\n return the look, just continues crossing the street as the\n blind are herded away. Headed toward a wooden building with a\n pictogram of a LIGHTNING BOLT suspended above the door.\n \n INT. ENGINEER", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", " ELI\n We're going to get out of this\n alive. Both of us. I know.\n \n SOLARA\n Because God told you?\n \n ELI\n Because God told me.\n \n Amidst all the chaos and gunfire, George has been listening\n to this exchange.\n \n GEORGE\n What about us?\n \n BEAT.\n \n ELI\n He didn't mention you.\n \n ", "back to the engineer.\n \n ELI\n If that battery ain't here when I\n get back, I will use this gun on\n your kneecaps and I will put this\n building to the torch and I will\n watch it burn to the ground with\n you alive inside it. So help me\n God.\n \n And with that he turns and leaves. The engineer gulps. Not a\n hint in Eli's voice that he didn't mean every word.\n \n INT. P", ".\n \n ELI\n I told you you wouldn't be getting\n that back.\n \n Bandit leader looks up to see the figure of Eli bearing down\n on him, silhouetted ominously against the sun. He looks for a\n moment like an avenging angel, something not of this world.\n \n BANDIT LEADER\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli.\n \n And with that, Eli runs him through with his sword.\n", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", "old clothes. She's on her knees trying to gather it up.\n \n She looks up as she sees Eli approaching. Instantly cowers\n from him, raising her hands to protect herself. Terrified.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Oh. Please don't hurt me. Here,\n take anything you want. You want\n some food? Take it.\n \n She offers him a can of pet food with a trembling hand. Eli\n stands there looking at her. His expression impossible to\n read behind the mir", "I'd met some men on the road. Bad\n men. They...\n \n BEAT. She trails off, struggling with this unhappy memory.\n Eli gets it, raises a hand reassuringly.\n \n ELI\n It's all right.\n \n 42.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n I was on the road for a year after\n that. I couldn't feed myself, let\n alone my little girl. And then Bill\n found us", " Go! Go!\n \n They spot Eli sprinting away and rush off in pursuit.\n \n Carnegie gets to his feet and storms back inside the theater.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Solara and Claudia watch through the window. Turn suddenly\n when they hear the door slam open behind them.\n \n Carnegie stands in the doorway, glaring at them.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET -", "more coughing. Eli tries to get up, but\n winces in pain. Puts his hand to his side, it comes back WET\n WITH BLOOD. A bad wound. He covers it with his coat, stands\n and moves through the smoke.\n \n ELI\n Solara?\n \n SOLARA (O.S.)\n Eli!\n \n He finds her in the smoke. She embraces him.\n \n ELI\n Are you all right?\n \n ", "formidable about his voice.\n \n ELI\n It's real important you boys listen\n to me and understand. The man I\n work for, you do not want to cross\n him. See, I'm under his protection.\n You stand in my way, you stand in\n his. And he will cut you down with\n a righteous fury - through me. For\n I am his faithful instrument.\n \n BEAT. The bandit leader looks at Eli incredulously... and\n ", "He leans in and checks the man's feet.\n \n They're bare. No shoes or socks. Eli curses under his breath.\n \n He leaves the car behind and heads on down the road. As he\n walks away, we see that the sole of one of his boots has worn\n loose, held in place now only by a rubber band.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DAY\n \n Eli continues down the road. He ambles along slowly, a man in\n no hurry. A man who has been walking a long time.", " it's supposed to go.\n \n BANDIT LEADER\n All right, I had just about enough\n of this shit...\n \n He lunges forward, grabs the shoulder strap of Eli's pack.\n \n If you blinked, you missed it. But somehow Eli has now drawn\n his sword. A RIVULET OF BLOOD snakes down along the blade and\n drips onto the asphalt.\n \n Bandit leader's hand is still gripped firmly around Eli's\n shoulder", ".\n \n ELI (cont'd)\n It told me that a path would be\n laid out before me, that I'd be led\n to a place where this book would be\n safe. It told me I'd be protected\n against anyone or anything that\n tried to stand in my way. If only I\n would have faith.\n (BEAT)\n That was twenty-five years ago. And\n I've been walking ever since.\n \n SOLAR", "men...\n \n His eyes roll back as his final breath leaves him. Dead. Eli\n signs a cross over his body, then stands and walks away.\n \n Solara sits on the ground nearby, a wreck. Eli approaches and\n gathers her up in his arms. She clings on to him tightly.\n \n SOLARA\n You came back for me.\n \n ELI\n What are friends for?\n \n She laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. Grips him tighter.\n ", "behind him, a hundred yards back.\n \n SOLARA\n Eli! Eli!\n \n He doesn't stop or look back. Just keeps on walking.\n \n She finally catches up with him, breathing hard, exhausted.\n \n 101.\n \n \n SOLARA\n Eli...\n \n ELI\n Thought you'd gone back to town.\n \n SOLARA\n I can't go back there. Eli", ", their bullets whipping past on either side of him.\n \n 61.\n \n \n In one swift motion Eli raises the shotgun and FIRES. Three\n shots in quick succession. And then there is silence. Smoke\n wisps from the shotgun's sawn-off barrel.\n \n The three gunmen LIE DEAD IN THE STREET. One hit square in\n the chest. The other two each have maybe one half of their\n heads remaining.\n \n Eli looks around. He'", "thing.\n \n He begins to read, half-hidden in the shadows of the fading\n sunlight. Silently mouthing the words as he reads them.\n \n MANY PAGES LATER\n \n Eli closes the book and parcels it back up as before.\n Replaces it in his pack, then reaches in for something else.\n \n A CAR BATTERY. Old and streaked with acid stains. Attached to\n a tangled bunch of ELECTRICAL WIRING and JUMPER CABLE", "ers\n swarm over the man like a pack of predatory animals.\n \n The woman is pulled to the ground and the clothes stripped\n from her. Eli turns away. He knows what comes next.\n \n Eli listens as the woman screams and screams. He reaches for\n his shotgun... hesitates... then withdraws his hand.\n \n ELI\n It ain't your concern. Stay on the\n path. It ain't your concern. Stay\n on the path.\n \n Eli repe" ], [ "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", " CARNEGIE\n You know, I've been searching for a\n book like that one for years. All\n I've ever wanted was to bring the\n word of God to these poor\n unfortunates here. To shine its\n light upon them and give them\n something in this wretched world\n that they could believe in.\n Something to live for! It's why I\n built this town, did you know that?\n All we've been missing is the word", " CARNEGIE\n Show me.\n \n Solara makes the SIGN OF A CRUCIFIX with her index fingers.\n Carnegie's eyes widen; he can barely believe it.\n \n CARNEGIE\n He had a bible?\n \n SOLARA\n That's what it was. A holy bible.\n Daddy, what's wrong? Did I...\n \n 59.\n \n \n Carnegie B", "book.\n \n BEAT as Carnegie considers this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You have no idea. You're too young,\n you don't remember the world\n before. But I do. I remember.\n \n He turns back to his animals, summoning up old memories.\n \n CARNEGIE\n When I was a kid my parents used to\n read that book every goddamn day.\n My mother, she'd read it along with\n ", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "and the\n glory and how I was going to burn\n forever in hell for the sins I was\n born with. He made sure he beat it\n into me good.\n \n He snaps out of his reverie and looks at Redridge.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Don't you see? It's not just any\n book.\n (MORE)\n \n 68.\n \n CARNEGIE (cont'd)\n ", "\n \n As Carnegie rejects each book with growing disappointment and\n frustration, it's clear he's looking for a specific volume.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It's not here.\n \n HOG\n These ain't worth nothin'?\n \n CARNEGIE\n When you bring me the book I asked\n you for, it'll be worth something.\n \n The bikers exchange more looks. An unspoken conversation.\n \n ", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "\n to show us the way. And now, praise\n the Lord, you've brought it to us.\n \n 63.\n \n \n Carnegie takes a step closer. He appears entirely sincere -\n but then he is very good at doing so.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It's not right to keep that book\n hidden away, all to yourself. The\n word is meant to be shared with\n others. It's meant to be spread!\n ", ", selling it harder than ever.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And mark me, the ultimate\n validation of that faith is coming!\n The sacred Word of Our Lord that\n formed the world before and will\n reform it once again is coming to\n this town to bring it succor, bring\n it nourishment, bring it new life!\n For the Almighty Himself has spoken\n unto me and promised it!\n \n Carnegie is such an impassioned and insp", "to his side.\n \n ELI\n Is there someplace we could sit?\n \n LOMBARDI\n Of course. Right this way.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Redridge appears. Carnegie looks at him eagerly.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Did you get it?\n \n Redridge holds the bible up proudly. Carnegie beams.\n \n ", ". I never\n even heard of anything like that.\n \n Carnegie doesn't appear to be listening. He is lost in a\n world of his own as he tends to the farm animals.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You know, I always thought of\n myself as a shepherd. Bringing\n together the wayward and the lost.\n Tending to my flock. But all the\n things I want to do, I can't do\n them on my own. The one thing", "onto Carnegie's desk.\n \n BOOKS. About a dozen different volumes of all shapes and\n sizes. Carnegie rifles excitedly through the collection.\n \n We see various titles as he sorts through them. Treasure\n Island. The Da Vinci Code. A volume of encyclopedia. The\n Diary of Anne Frank. Tuesdays with Morrie.\n \n In amongst the books are a few MAGAZINES. An old issue of\n OPRAH magazine. A torn copy of SPORTS ILL", " \n CARNEGIE\n I know each and every one of you\n will understand the necessity of\n this action. It was faith that\n built this town - and faith that\n will sustain it even through the\n dark times that may lie ahead. But\n it is always darkest before dawn -\n and the new dawn is coming.\n (BEAT)\n May God go with you all.\n \n Carnegie steps back inside, leaving the crowd to talk among\n themselves, clearly", "s an\n old word. I'm not a slaver. I'm\n trying to help these people.\n \n Carnegie can't help himself - once again he is in his natural\n element, spinning the argument his way, pitching. Selling.\n \n CARNEGIE\n In the outland the sightless are\n preyed upon like sick animals. Here\n at least they're protected. They do\n the essential work others don't\n want. And in return they eat", " CARNEGIE\n Show me.\n \n Redridge hands it over. Carnegie sits back in his chair,\n running his hand lovingly over the battered leather cover.\n \n 109.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n The new world begins here...\n \n He opens the book and looks inside.\n \n BEAT. And then he looks up at Redridge, confused.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What the fuck is this?\n", "\n You're going to read it for me.\n Every word. And I'm going to write\n it down. Start at the beginning.\n \n As Carnegie hunts on his desk for a paper and pen, Claudia\n opens the book and trails her fingertips across the raised\n lettering.\n \n 111.\n \n \n For a moment there is a glimmer of recognition... a faint\n smile... but then it fades as Carnegie turns back to her,\n eager", " Could you please bring us some\n writing paper?\n \n The guard nods and moves toward the door. As he does so:\n \n ELI\n Bring a lot of it.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie looks at the open bible, jaw hanging loose, his\n complexion ashen. Like he's just been slapped in the face.\n \n REDRIDGE\n What?", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n " ], [ ". Like the rest of the town,\n badly damaged and shoddily fixed-up. But still standing.\n \n Eli walks down the street and approaches a BLACKSMITH,\n hammering out a metal plate over an anvil outside his store.\n \n ELI\n You got an engineer or a fuelman\n around here?\n \n The blacksmith doesn't look up from his work but motions\n toward a storefront at the far end of the street.\n \n ELI\n Thanks.\n \n", ",\n entering the center of town, an astonishing sight:\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS\n \n The broad thoroughfare now all that remains of whatever town\n once stood here. Many of the old storefronts still largely\n intact but patched up with salvaged materials. The asphalt\n street warped and cracked, parking meters bent and smashed.\n \n It's a lot like the abandoned town Eli passed through\n earlier, except VERY MUCH ALIVE", "\n \n A primitive, sprawling village of tents and barn-like\n structures. Built from corrugated iron, rotted wood, molded\n plastic, tarpaulin - materials scavenged from the old world.\n \n HUDDLED RESIDENTS are dressed in little more than rags, many\n wearing goggles like Eli's to shield their eyes from the sun.\n \n Eli stands at the edge of town. Reluctant to enter, but he\n braces himself and walks on in. And as he rounds a corner", "ist. But Eli is unmoved.\n \n ELI\n It's none of my business what you\n do here. Like you said, it's your\n town. I just want to be on my way.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What's your name, walker?\n \n Eli doesn't respond. Just stands there.\n \n CARNEGIE\n All right, I guess we just call you\n Walker. Don't see too many folks\n ", "that? You\n wouldn't be one of those savages\n now, would you?\n \n Carnegie's gunmen look him over, inspecting him warily.\n \n CARNEGIE GUNMAN\n He ain't got the shakes.\n \n 35.\n \n \n Carnegie's confident gaze remains fixed on Eli throughout.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Good. This is a civilized town.\n Under God. Do", "ELI\n It doesn't have to.\n \n They walk on.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - DAY\n \n On the outskirts of a small town that lies in ruins. Almost\n every building burned or reduced to rubble.\n \n Except for one SMALL HOUSE. The building is damaged and worn\n but in mostly decent condition. It stands out among its\n surroundings for being the only structure still intact.\n \n The windows are BARRED. The outer structure fortified with\n SHEET M", " He clasps his hands together in prayer.\n \n ELI\n Dear Lord, thank you for your\n generosity in providing us today\n with this bountiful feast.\n \n He speaks QUIETLY, his voice barely above a whisper. Even so,\n we catch the accent - a RASPY, OLD-WORLD MIDWEST DRAWL, like\n John Wayne or some other long-forgotten western icon.\n \n ELI\n Thank you for the many gifts that\n", "The assembled residents GASP at this defiant display.\n \n 64.\n \n \n Eli sheathes his sword and takes Solara by the hand again.\n \n ELI\n Now we can go.\n \n CRANE UP over the main street as they both head out of town.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DAY\n \n The town barely visible on the distant horizon behind Eli and\n Solara. Eli walks as he always has, his pace steady and slow.\n Still,", "ers\n swarm over the man like a pack of predatory animals.\n \n The woman is pulled to the ground and the clothes stripped\n from her. Eli turns away. He knows what comes next.\n \n Eli listens as the woman screams and screams. He reaches for\n his shotgun... hesitates... then withdraws his hand.\n \n ELI\n It ain't your concern. Stay on the\n path. It ain't your concern. Stay\n on the path.\n \n Eli repe", " from within, casting a deathly pall over the skyline. BURNED\n AND BROKEN SKYSCRAPERS jut out like tombstones.\n \n Eli reaches a fork in the road and stops. The road he's on\n appears to wind off in the direction of the ruined city on\n the horizon. The other fork continues on into the wasteland.\n \n After a brief pause, Eli changes direction and heads off down\n the other fork, away from the city.\n \n EXT. ABANDONED TOWN", "signs\n a cross over their ravaged bodies as he mutters a prayer\n under his breath. Then stands and continues on down the road.\n \n EXT. ROAD FORK - DAY\n \n More desolate wasteland as far as the eye can see. The road\n forks again here. Eli arrives at the junction and stops.\n \n The road Eli is on leads further into the west. The other\n fork heads toward a SMALL TOWN just visible on the horizon.\n \n A HAND-PAINTED SIGN has", " Eli heads down the street. Stopping when he comes across a\n STATUE erected in the center of the road. A TALL MAN crudely\n fashioned in clay. One hand placed paternally on the head of\n a SMALL CHILD, the other outstretched toward the sun.\n \n As he observes the statue, Eli notices that passing residents\n take a moment to PAUSE AND GENUFLECT before it. Worshipping.\n \n Curious, Eli reaches up and runs his hand over the statue's\n face", " Well, you sure as hell found it. Do\n you know who I am?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n CARNEGIE\n My name's Carnegie. I own this bar.\n I own the whole town. You've never\n heard of me?\n \n ELI\n That's you out there on the street.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Remarkable likeness, isn't it?\n You", "stands a few yards away, watching him,\n transfixed. She has never seen anyone like him.\n \n ELI\n Through the ministry of the church\n may he give you pardon and peace,\n and I absolve you from your sins in\n the name of the father, and of the\n son, and of the holy spirit. Amen.\n \n He turns and walks away down the road, passing the woman.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Thank you. You're... a", "s right at the end of the main road, the\n perimeter where the town meets the open desert. He's free.\n \n And then, A GIRL'S SCREAM. Distant but unmistakable.\n \n Eli whips around. In the upstairs window of the theater,\n Carnegie shoves Solara roughly against the wall. Barking\n angrily at her, shaking her.\n \n Eli looks at the road. Then up at the theater. Then back to\n the road again.\n \n E", ".O.V. - too far to make out much detail, but\n apparently it is a MIDDLE-AGED COUPLE.\n \n The man pushes along an OLD WHEELBARROW covered by a tarp as\n the woman, seemingly his wife, walks alongside. The barrow's\n rusted wheel gives out a plaintive, rhythmic SQUEAK.\n \n Eli ducks down again as he hears something else. This time\n much louder. The menacing growl of MOTORCYCLE ENGINES", "a gun in the outland, you\n don't bring one into town less you\n live there. Don't you know that?\n \n ELI\n I'm sorry, I forgot. I've been on\n the road a long time.\n \n 17.\n \n \n This seems to make the engineer more suspicious of Eli.\n \n ENGINEER\n Show me your hand.\n \n ELI\n I'm not a-\n ", " The man seems more suspicious than his wife. He drags Eli's\n shotgun toward him with his foot, hands it to his wife.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli. This is Solara.\n We're travelers, that's all. We\n don't mean you any harm.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n You cut my padlock. I saw you.\n Trying to break into", "gaze.\n \n CARNEGIE\n So what's your business here,\n friend? Walkers don't usually come\n into town less they want something.\n \n ELI\n I had a battery needed charging and\n a canteen needed filling. I didn't\n come here looking for trouble.\n \n Barely noticeable, Carnegie gestures to one of the gunmen,\n who nods in acknowledgement and leaves.\n \n CARNEGIE\n", "formidable about his voice.\n \n ELI\n It's real important you boys listen\n to me and understand. The man I\n work for, you do not want to cross\n him. See, I'm under his protection.\n You stand in my way, you stand in\n his. And he will cut you down with\n a righteous fury - through me. For\n I am his faithful instrument.\n \n BEAT. The bandit leader looks at Eli incredulously... and\n " ], [ "VILLAGER steps forward, pushing through the\n crowd and jabbing his finger angrily up at Carnegie.\n \n DISCONTENTED VILLAGER\n We've heard this all before! When\n are you going to-\n \n Carnegie's goons quickly move in and efficiently SILENCE THE\n MAN, removing him from the crowd. Dissent is not tolerated\n here. Carnegie goes on speaking as if nothing had happened.\n \n 22.\n \n", " CARNEGIE\n You know, I've been searching for a\n book like that one for years. All\n I've ever wanted was to bring the\n word of God to these poor\n unfortunates here. To shine its\n light upon them and give them\n something in this wretched world\n that they could believe in.\n Something to live for! It's why I\n built this town, did you know that?\n All we've been missing is the word", "\n patience. You're trying to tell me\n that a book is going to keep them\n in line?\n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh, it'll do much more than that.\n The water in this town may run dry,\n but faith - that springs eternal!\n And that faith will help turn this\n town into a city. And this city\n into a nation. It will help me\n build a new world. In my image.\n People will come from far", "\n assembled outside the Palladium theater. AN ARMED CREW OF\n CARNEGIE'S GOONS keeps watch over the crowd.\n \n Carnegie stands on a BALCONY above the theater marquee. He\n treats the balcony like a pulpit, speaking through a\n MICROPHONE connected to an old PA SYSTEM that carries his\n words to the far reaches of the crowd.\n \n CARNEGIE\n I want you all to remember how far\n we've come", "an incredibly charismatic and persuasive speaker - his\n cultivated image and inspiring, confident delivery remind us\n of a TELEVISION EVANGELIST.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And I want you all to remember\n above all that it is not the water\n with which we have been blessed\n that is the true lifeblood of this\n town... but faith.\n \n This sends a MURMUR OF DISCONTENT through the crowd. Many\n don't like where they suspect this", "eye. His gaze\n like a laser beam, utterly disarming.\n \n CARNEGIE\n The book I want is out there\n somewhere, just waiting to be\n found. Once there were millions of\n copies - you only need to find one!\n Find it and bring it here. And I\n promise you, you will be rewarded\n beyond anything you can imagine.\n \n It's impossible not to be swayed by this guy. He's just so\n full of fiery passion", "together. And how far we\n still can go, if only we believe.\n When I brought us here to this\n oasis - this promised land - we\n knew there would be hardships. Knew\n there would be sacrifices. But we\n also knew that we were creating for\n ourselves a world where we could be\n safe from the horrors of the\n forsaken lands beyond our borders.\n \n The crowd listens intently, hanging on Carnegie's every word.\n He is", " \n CARNEGIE\n I know each and every one of you\n will understand the necessity of\n this action. It was faith that\n built this town - and faith that\n will sustain it even through the\n dark times that may lie ahead. But\n it is always darkest before dawn -\n and the new dawn is coming.\n (BEAT)\n May God go with you all.\n \n Carnegie steps back inside, leaving the crowd to talk among\n themselves, clearly", "give these people what they\n want to hear...\n \n Carnegie trails off, the thought too awful to contemplate.\n Claudia adopts a sympathetic expression, supportive.\n \n CLAUDIA\n You'll find what you're looking\n for. It's out there somewhere. You\n just have to have faith.\n \n This seems to anger Carnegie. He wheels on her.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith? Is that what you think we're\n", " \n CARNEGIE\n How was your night? Did you sleep\n well?\n \n Claudia appears perturbed by Carnegie's subtle probing.\n Solara flashes him a frosty look.\n \n SOLARA\n I did like you asked. Isn't that\n what you really want to know? Just\n come out and say it.\n \n Carnegie glares at her sternly.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You don'", "CARNEGIE\n Straight to the point. I like that.\n Fact is, you could be in a lot of\n trouble. This is a peaceful town.\n You walk in here, armed, and the\n next thing a dozen of my good\n citizens are dead. I've hanged men\n for less. I could hang you.\n (BEAT)\n Or, you could come work for me.\n \n ELI\n What?\n \n CARNEGIE\n I never once saw anyone handle", "GIE\n What do you think, darling? A whole\n new world, to do with as we will.\n Won't that be grand?\n \n She smiles halfheartedly, but it's clear she is mortified.\n \n Carnegie turns back to Redridge.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Find that book.\n \n REDRIDGE\n He has half a day on us already.\n \n CARNEGIE\n So use the motor pool", "and wide\n to hear what's inside of it.\n They'll follow me anywhere just to\n get a taste of it. And they'll do\n whatever I tell them.\n \n As usual, Carnegie's slick rhetoric has worked - Redridge has\n totally bought into it. Claudia, however, looks appalled.\n \n REDRIDGE\n And what if this book don't work?\n What if it don't say what you want\n it to say?", "It has the power to motivate\n people. It can give them hope, it\n can terrify them. It can shape\n them. Control them.\n (BEAT)\n Do you remember how I built this\n town? It wasn't done with force,\n and it wasn't done just with water.\n It was done with the power of\n words. I created this place out of\n nothing, because people believed in\n a promise that I sold to them.\n Those guys on", "may be going. Carnegie\n senses this and dials up his rhetoric - delivering it now\n with the fire-brand passion of an old-time baptist preacher.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It is our faith that sustains us,\n brothers and sisters! Hallelujah!\n \n 21.\n \n \n The crowd is divided. Many return the \"Hallelujah\" with\n varying levels of conviction. Others are not convinced. But\n Carnegie continues unabated", ". I never\n even heard of anything like that.\n \n Carnegie doesn't appear to be listening. He is lost in a\n world of his own as he tends to the farm animals.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You know, I always thought of\n myself as a shepherd. Bringing\n together the wayward and the lost.\n Tending to my flock. But all the\n things I want to do, I can't do\n them on my own. The one thing", "\n I don't live without fear. I\n haven't for a long time now.\n \n Carnegie calms himself, backs off. Claudia goes to leave.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Where are you going?\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm not going to let you do this.\n \n Carnegie surges forward and pins Claudia to the wall.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You're not going to let me?\n", ", selling it harder than ever.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And mark me, the ultimate\n validation of that faith is coming!\n The sacred Word of Our Lord that\n formed the world before and will\n reform it once again is coming to\n this town to bring it succor, bring\n it nourishment, bring it new life!\n For the Almighty Himself has spoken\n unto me and promised it!\n \n Carnegie is such an impassioned and insp", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", ".\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - BARNYARD - DAY\n \n A small, penned-in area to the rear of the Palladium\n containing an eclectic bunch of farmyard animals. Goats,\n sheep, geese, pigs. Mostly mangy, sad-looking specimens.\n \n Carnegie stands in the yard, tossing handfuls of animal feed\n from a nearby sack onto the ground. He watches with\n satisfaction as the animals gather at his feet to feed.\n" ], [ "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", "and PRODUCES THE BIBLE.\n \n SOLARA\n It's here! I've got it! Please\n don't kill him.\n \n ELI\n Solara...\n \n SOLARA\n It's just a book, Eli. No book is\n worth giving up your life for.\n \n ELI\n You're wrong.\n \n 98.\n \n \n Satisfied, Red", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "closes the bible, LOMBARDI\n appears behind her.\n \n LOMBARDI\n You know, you don't have to leave.\n You're welcome to stay here with\n us. You'll be safe.\n \n SOLARA\n Thanks.\n \n She stands, pulling Eli's sword from the earth.\n \n SOLARA\n But I gotta do what I gotta do.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Where", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", "itary fatigues is stationed\n in one of the perimeter towers. Training a rifle on them.\n \n ALCATRAZ GUARD\n Identify yourselves!\n \n In the opposite tower ANOTHER GUARD has his rifle trained on\n them too. Eli looks up, raises his hands.\n \n ELI\n My name is Elijah Stone. I have a\n message for your boss. I need you\n to tell him that I have a King\n James Bible in my possession", ", I'm so\n sorry.\n \n ELI\n For what?\n \n SOLARA\n For what? I betrayed you! I gave\n them the book!\n \n ELI\n You did what you believed you had\n to.\n \n SOLARA\n You're not mad at me?\n \n BEAT.\n \n ELI\n I forgive you.\n \n She continues walking alongside him. Trying to", " Redridge clutches his bloody hand, glares at Eli furiously.\n Pulls his gun again and marches right up to him, pressing the\n muzzle tight against his forehead.\n \n REDRIDGE\n If you don't got the book, what\n fucking use are you?\n \n His finger tightens on the trigger.\n \n SOLARA\n Wait!\n \n She breaks from the gunmen holding her and rushes toward\n Redridge. Reaches inside her dress", "ch and wipes it clean.\n \n He turns to the other man, raising his sword.\n \n RIFLE BANDIT\n Wait!\n \n 75.\n \n \n Eli pauses, sword hovering over him, poised to strike.\n \n RIFLE BANDIT\n I want to say it. I want to be\n forgiven.\n \n Eli crouches once more by his side.\n \n ELI\n Repeat after", " Could you please bring us some\n writing paper?\n \n The guard nods and moves toward the door. As he does so:\n \n ELI\n Bring a lot of it.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie looks at the open bible, jaw hanging loose, his\n complexion ashen. Like he's just been slapped in the face.\n \n REDRIDGE\n What?", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "The assembled residents GASP at this defiant display.\n \n 64.\n \n \n Eli sheathes his sword and takes Solara by the hand again.\n \n ELI\n Now we can go.\n \n CRANE UP over the main street as they both head out of town.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DAY\n \n The town barely visible on the distant horizon behind Eli and\n Solara. Eli walks as he always has, his pace steady and slow.\n Still,", "to pick up his sword, but Redridge puts his boot on it.\n \n REDRIDGE\n No weapons.\n \n Eli still has a half-dozen guns trained on him. He turns and\n walks away, toward the road. As he passes Solara:\n \n 99.\n \n \n ELI\n I told you we'd both live. Now do\n you have faith?\n \n A tear runs down Solara's cheek as she watches him walk away.\n", "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", "As she walks away into the sun, her lonely silhouette on the\n road reminds us of Eli as we saw him so many times before.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n I have kept the faith.\n \n She grows smaller and smaller as she walks into the distance,\n until she consumed by the rising sun and we\n \n FADE OUT:\n \n \n\n" ], [ "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "\n \n 69.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh, it'll say what I want, I can\n promise you that. Because I'm going\n to rewrite it. I'll keep the parts\n that work for me and make the rest\n whatever I need it to be.\n (BEAT)\n A new bible, for a new world.\n \n He reaches out and takes Claudia by the hand.\n \n CARNE", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", "back to the engineer.\n \n ELI\n If that battery ain't here when I\n get back, I will use this gun on\n your kneecaps and I will put this\n building to the torch and I will\n watch it burn to the ground with\n you alive inside it. So help me\n God.\n \n And with that he turns and leaves. The engineer gulps. Not a\n hint in Eli's voice that he didn't mean every word.\n \n INT. P", "\n You're going to read it for me.\n Every word. And I'm going to write\n it down. Start at the beginning.\n \n As Carnegie hunts on his desk for a paper and pen, Claudia\n opens the book and trails her fingertips across the raised\n lettering.\n \n 111.\n \n \n For a moment there is a glimmer of recognition... a faint\n smile... but then it fades as Carnegie turns back to her,\n eager", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", " CARNEGIE\n Show me.\n \n Solara makes the SIGN OF A CRUCIFIX with her index fingers.\n Carnegie's eyes widen; he can barely believe it.\n \n CARNEGIE\n He had a bible?\n \n SOLARA\n That's what it was. A holy bible.\n Daddy, what's wrong? Did I...\n \n 59.\n \n \n Carnegie B", "\n The engineer jerks the shotgun at Eli nervously.\n \n ENGINEER\n I said show me your fucking hand!\n \n Eli raises his hand and holds it outstretched, palm faced\n downward. The engineer watches it closely for any sign of\n ticks or tremors, but Eli's hand stays steady as a rock.\n \n ELI\n I'm not one of them.\n \n The sight of the steady hand seems to reassure the engineer a\n little. Finally, he lowers", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "and PRODUCES THE BIBLE.\n \n SOLARA\n It's here! I've got it! Please\n don't kill him.\n \n ELI\n Solara...\n \n SOLARA\n It's just a book, Eli. No book is\n worth giving up your life for.\n \n ELI\n You're wrong.\n \n 98.\n \n \n Satisfied, Red", "and wide\n to hear what's inside of it.\n They'll follow me anywhere just to\n get a taste of it. And they'll do\n whatever I tell them.\n \n As usual, Carnegie's slick rhetoric has worked - Redridge has\n totally bought into it. Claudia, however, looks appalled.\n \n REDRIDGE\n And what if this book don't work?\n What if it don't say what you want\n it to say?", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "like\n cattle by a brutish CHAIN GANG BOSS who swats at them with a\n stick to keep them moving and indicate direction.\n \n CHAIN GANG BOSS\n Come on, move it!\n \n The gang boss glares at Eli as he passes by. Eli doesn't\n return the look, just continues crossing the street as the\n blind are herded away. Headed toward a wooden building with a\n pictogram of a LIGHTNING BOLT suspended above the door.\n \n INT. ENGINEER", "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "NEGIE\n So let's not see anybody get hurt.\n Okay?\n \n He speaks more softly now. As he strokes his hand tenderly\n through Claudia's hair, a tear runs down her cheek.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT\n \n Dark outside, but the room is brightly lit by the glow of the\n oil lamp. Eli sits up on his bed, quietly reading the old\n leather-bound book from his backpack.\n \n Another KNO", "We'll see. This is my town, nobody\n leaves until I say they leave.\n \n He glances knowingly at Claudia.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Solara, honey, eat something.\n \n She looks at the food on the plate before her. Then closes\n her eyes and clasps her hands in prayer.\n \n SOLARA\n Our father, thank you for this meal\n which you have been so gracious to\n place before us.\n \n Claud", "life and death, and mercy, and\n revenge, and the beginning and the\n end of the world. I guess it's\n about a little bit of everything.\n \n SOLARA\n Can I see?\n \n She reaches out for the book but he snatches it away.\n \n SOLARA\n What? I'm not going to do anything.\n \n ELI\n I'm sorry. I'm charged to protect\n this book. I can'" ], [ "LES)\n No.\n \n SOLARA\n What book is it from? Is it poetry?\n \n ELI\n I guess you could think of it that\n way. It's from the Holy Bible.\n \n SOLARA\n I never heard of it. What's it\n about?\n \n BEAT as Eli thinks. How on earth to answer that?\n \n ELI\n It's about love, and forgiveness,\n and", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "and PRODUCES THE BIBLE.\n \n SOLARA\n It's here! I've got it! Please\n don't kill him.\n \n ELI\n Solara...\n \n SOLARA\n It's just a book, Eli. No book is\n worth giving up your life for.\n \n ELI\n You're wrong.\n \n 98.\n \n \n Satisfied, Red", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", ".\n \n ELI (cont'd)\n It told me that a path would be\n laid out before me, that I'd be led\n to a place where this book would be\n safe. It told me I'd be protected\n against anyone or anything that\n tried to stand in my way. If only I\n would have faith.\n (BEAT)\n That was twenty-five years ago. And\n I've been walking ever since.\n \n SOLAR", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", "word exactly as I say it.\n \n Eli removes his goggles. Solara can't believe what she sees.\n \n His eyes are pale, milky-white, dead. TOTALLY BLIND.\n \n ELI\n The First Book of Moses called\n Genesis. Chapter one, verse one. In\n the beginning God created the\n heavens and the earth. Verse two.\n The earth was without form, and\n void; and darkness was on the face\n of the", "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", "d. I shall\n not want. He makes me lie down in\n green pastures. He leads me beside\n still waters. He restores my soul.\n He leads me in the paths of\n righteousness.\n \n ON SOLARA as she listens to Eli read. Transfixed.\n \n 51.\n \n \n ELI\n Though I walk through the valley of\n the shadow of death, I will fear no\n evil. For you are with me", ".\n \n ELI\n I told you you wouldn't be getting\n that back.\n \n Bandit leader looks up to see the figure of Eli bearing down\n on him, silhouetted ominously against the sun. He looks for a\n moment like an avenging angel, something not of this world.\n \n BANDIT LEADER\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli.\n \n And with that, Eli runs him through with his sword.\n", "ara. What a delightful name. Is\n that by any chance Shakespearean?\n \n SOLARA\n I, uh, I think it's Japanese.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Wonderful.\n \n He turns back to Eli.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Is it true what they tell me? You\n have a King James Version?\n \n ELI\n Been carrying it with me for twenty-\n five years.\n \n", "As she walks away into the sun, her lonely silhouette on the\n road reminds us of Eli as we saw him so many times before.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n I have kept the faith.\n \n She grows smaller and smaller as she walks into the distance,\n until she consumed by the rising sun and we\n \n FADE OUT:\n \n \n\n", "formidable about his voice.\n \n ELI\n It's real important you boys listen\n to me and understand. The man I\n work for, you do not want to cross\n him. See, I'm under his protection.\n You stand in my way, you stand in\n his. And he will cut you down with\n a righteous fury - through me. For\n I am his faithful instrument.\n \n BEAT. The bandit leader looks at Eli incredulously... and\n ", "stands a few yards away, watching him,\n transfixed. She has never seen anyone like him.\n \n ELI\n Through the ministry of the church\n may he give you pardon and peace,\n and I absolve you from your sins in\n the name of the father, and of the\n son, and of the holy spirit. Amen.\n \n He turns and walks away down the road, passing the woman.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Thank you. You're... a", "I'd met some men on the road. Bad\n men. They...\n \n BEAT. She trails off, struggling with this unhappy memory.\n Eli gets it, raises a hand reassuringly.\n \n ELI\n It's all right.\n \n 42.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n I was on the road for a year after\n that. I couldn't feed myself, let\n alone my little girl. And then Bill\n found us", "OLARA\n Well if this God guy's so mighty,\n how come it's taking you so long to\n get where you're going? Doesn't he\n know the way?\n \n Eli wheels around and jabs a scolding finger at her.\n \n ELI\n You want to stay on this road with\n me, don't ever let me hear you take\n his name in vain like that again.\n \n Solara is surprised by the severity of his reaction.", "my dad?\n \n ELI\n (SMILES)\n I should say so, yes.\n \n BEAT. The two of them sit in silence for a moment.\n \n SOLARA\n Would you teach me to read?\n \n ELI\n What?\n \n SOLARA\n I never learned. No-one around here\n knows how. Only my dad, and he\n won't teach me. I think he likes\n being the" ], [ "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", "worries about me so\n much.\n \n Again, bittersweet. The sense that Claudia feels trapped.\n Thinking about it begins to upset her. She gets up.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I should go. He'll be wondering\n where I am.\n \n 43.\n \n \n Eli stands, escorts her to the door and opens it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Thank you. I enjoyed our\n conversation.\n \n", "Her name is CLAUDIA. Early 30s, pretty. She gazes into the\n mirror as she dries her hands, but it's so cracked and warped\n it's near impossible to see a reflection.\n \n The door opens and Carnegie enters. He still looks steamed.\n Claudia doesn't turn to look at him, keeps facing the mirror.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Is that you, honey?\n \n Carnegie says nothing. Just paces angrily up and down", "Claudia.\n Sooner or later you're going to\n have to accept that. She has to\n earn her keep around here, same as\n the rest of us.\n \n CLAUDIA\n By working as a whore? That's all\n you think she's fit for?\n \n 45.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n We've each been given a talent to\n help us make our way in this world.\n", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "LI\n Just making conversation is all.\n Haven't had one of those in a\n while. Not a real one, leastways.\n \n Claudia smiles. Neither has she.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He found me in the outland. I was\n sixteen, my family had been...\n well, they were gone. There was\n just me and my baby.\n \n ELI\n You had a baby?\n \n CLAUDIA\n ", "and he promised he'd take\n care of us. He told me he was going\n to make a place where we could be\n safe. And he did. He did all that.\n He built this whole town. He kept\n us safe. And he raised that child\n like she was his own. He's been so\n good to both of us. He saved us,\n really.\n \n There's a bittersweet quality to Claudia's words. As though\n there is more to the story", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "We'll see. This is my town, nobody\n leaves until I say they leave.\n \n He glances knowingly at Claudia.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Solara, honey, eat something.\n \n She looks at the food on the plate before her. Then closes\n her eyes and clasps her hands in prayer.\n \n SOLARA\n Our father, thank you for this meal\n which you have been so gracious to\n place before us.\n \n Claud", "girl off the road, a\n girl who'd been beaten and raped,\n and give her a place where she can\n live without fear! Without me you'd\n be just another no-eye, lying dead\n in the outland, picked clean by the\n buzzards, or shoveling dirt down\n there with the others. That's the\n kind of man I am!\n \n He has her against the wall, his face just inches from hers.\n \n CLAUDIA", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", "it?\n \n ELI\n Oh. Thank you.\n \n He takes the stuff from her, sets it on the table.\n \n 41.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n You're very welcome.\n \n We get the impression that Claudia is as unfamiliar with this\n kind of polite interaction as Eli. But she likes it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n It'll be dark soon.\n \n She strikes a match and lights the", ".\n \n REDRIDGE\n There ain't much gas in reserve.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Whatever there is, use it.\n \n Redridge nods and goes to leave.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What about Solara?\n \n BEAT. In all this excitement about the book, she had been\n completely forgotten about.\n \n CLAUDIA\n She's still out there. With him.\n \n CAR", "like you usually do.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Who said anything about me?\n (BEAT)\n I'm sending Solara.\n \n Claudia reacts suddenly to this. Shocked and angry.\n \n CLAUDIA\n You're doing what?\n CARNEGIE\n You know how often these walkers\n get laid? Never. Least not by\n anything living or willing. Girl\n like her can be very persuasive.", "than she is telling.\n \n Eli pulls out a chair at the table, offers it to her.\n \n ELI\n You want to eat some?\n \n She smiles and sits. Eli sits across from her.\n \n ELI\n When did you go blind? In the war?\n You get caught in a flash?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No, I was born this way. I think\n I'm lucky like that.\n \n ELI\n L", "I'd met some men on the road. Bad\n men. They...\n \n BEAT. She trails off, struggling with this unhappy memory.\n Eli gets it, raises a hand reassuringly.\n \n ELI\n It's all right.\n \n 42.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n I was on the road for a year after\n that. I couldn't feed myself, let\n alone my little girl. And then Bill\n found us", "NEGIE\n Right. Right. Of course. Bring her\n back, too, if you can. But-\n \n REDRIDGE\n The book. I know.\n \n 70.\n \n \n Redridge turns and leaves. Claudia scowls at Carnegie, but he\n doesn't even notice, just goes back to feeding his animals.\n \n EXT. DESOLATE ROAD - DAY\n \n Solara wanders the road. She's tired", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", "\n \n 69.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh, it'll say what I want, I can\n promise you that. Because I'm going\n to rewrite it. I'll keep the parts\n that work for me and make the rest\n whatever I need it to be.\n (BEAT)\n A new bible, for a new world.\n \n He reaches out and takes Claudia by the hand.\n \n CARNE" ], [ "worries about me so\n much.\n \n Again, bittersweet. The sense that Claudia feels trapped.\n Thinking about it begins to upset her. She gets up.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I should go. He'll be wondering\n where I am.\n \n 43.\n \n \n Eli stands, escorts her to the door and opens it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Thank you. I enjoyed our\n conversation.\n \n", "Claudia.\n Sooner or later you're going to\n have to accept that. She has to\n earn her keep around here, same as\n the rest of us.\n \n CLAUDIA\n By working as a whore? That's all\n you think she's fit for?\n \n 45.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n We've each been given a talent to\n help us make our way in this world.\n", "and he promised he'd take\n care of us. He told me he was going\n to make a place where we could be\n safe. And he did. He did all that.\n He built this whole town. He kept\n us safe. And he raised that child\n like she was his own. He's been so\n good to both of us. He saved us,\n really.\n \n There's a bittersweet quality to Claudia's words. As though\n there is more to the story", "Her name is CLAUDIA. Early 30s, pretty. She gazes into the\n mirror as she dries her hands, but it's so cracked and warped\n it's near impossible to see a reflection.\n \n The door opens and Carnegie enters. He still looks steamed.\n Claudia doesn't turn to look at him, keeps facing the mirror.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Is that you, honey?\n \n Carnegie says nothing. Just paces angrily up and down", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", "than she is telling.\n \n Eli pulls out a chair at the table, offers it to her.\n \n ELI\n You want to eat some?\n \n She smiles and sits. Eli sits across from her.\n \n ELI\n When did you go blind? In the war?\n You get caught in a flash?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No, I was born this way. I think\n I'm lucky like that.\n \n ELI\n L", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", "LI\n Just making conversation is all.\n Haven't had one of those in a\n while. Not a real one, leastways.\n \n Claudia smiles. Neither has she.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He found me in the outland. I was\n sixteen, my family had been...\n well, they were gone. There was\n just me and my baby.\n \n ELI\n You had a baby?\n \n CLAUDIA\n ", "AY\n \n Carnegie has Claudia pinned against the wall, his pants\n bunched around his ankles, ass bared as he pounds away at\n her. Not making love. This is mechanical, loveless sex.\n \n Claudia stares vacantly over his shoulder into space as\n Carnegie thrusts into her again and again. Deeply\n uninterested, just waiting for it to be over.\n \n Suddenly, we hear a CRASH O.S. Carnegie stops and listens.\n \n CAR", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "girl off the road, a\n girl who'd been beaten and raped,\n and give her a place where she can\n live without fear! Without me you'd\n be just another no-eye, lying dead\n in the outland, picked clean by the\n buzzards, or shoveling dirt down\n there with the others. That's the\n kind of man I am!\n \n He has her against the wall, his face just inches from hers.\n \n CLAUDIA", "it?\n \n ELI\n Oh. Thank you.\n \n He takes the stuff from her, sets it on the table.\n \n 41.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n You're very welcome.\n \n We get the impression that Claudia is as unfamiliar with this\n kind of polite interaction as Eli. But she likes it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n It'll be dark soon.\n \n She strikes a match and lights the", "We'll see. This is my town, nobody\n leaves until I say they leave.\n \n He glances knowingly at Claudia.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Solara, honey, eat something.\n \n She looks at the food on the plate before her. Then closes\n her eyes and clasps her hands in prayer.\n \n SOLARA\n Our father, thank you for this meal\n which you have been so gracious to\n place before us.\n \n Claud", "oil lamp on the table. The\n room is lit by its flickering glow.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Can I get you anything else?\n \n ELI\n No, thank you.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well. Have a good night.\n \n As she turns for the door:\n \n ELI\n You're Carnegie's woman?\n \n CLAUDIA\n Why do you ask?\n \n E", "she's trembling, afraid to speak.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry.\n \n Carnegie realizes he's frightened her. He softens.\n \n CARNEGIE\n No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to\n scare you. Hey. You okay?\n \n He lifts her chin up, wipes away a tear.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You just get me all riled up with\n that", "\n \n 69.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh, it'll say what I want, I can\n promise you that. Because I'm going\n to rewrite it. I'll keep the parts\n that work for me and make the rest\n whatever I need it to be.\n (BEAT)\n A new bible, for a new world.\n \n He reaches out and takes Claudia by the hand.\n \n CARNE", "\n I don't live without fear. I\n haven't for a long time now.\n \n Carnegie calms himself, backs off. Claudia goes to leave.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Where are you going?\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm not going to let you do this.\n \n Carnegie surges forward and pins Claudia to the wall.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You're not going to let me?\n" ], [ "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "and PRODUCES THE BIBLE.\n \n SOLARA\n It's here! I've got it! Please\n don't kill him.\n \n ELI\n Solara...\n \n SOLARA\n It's just a book, Eli. No book is\n worth giving up your life for.\n \n ELI\n You're wrong.\n \n 98.\n \n \n Satisfied, Red", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "waning sunlight shafts through the bedroom's\n broken window. Eli rummages through his backpack, pulls out a\n SMALL PACKAGE wrapped in cloth and tied fast with string.\n \n He sits back in his corner and carefully unwraps it. It's an\n OLD LEATHER-BOUND BOOK. The binding cracked and pages dog-\n eared, thumbed through a thousand times and more.\n \n Eli gazes lovingly at it. Lets his fingers play across the\n beat-up old leather cover. A cherished", ".\n \n ELI (cont'd)\n It told me that a path would be\n laid out before me, that I'd be led\n to a place where this book would be\n safe. It told me I'd be protected\n against anyone or anything that\n tried to stand in my way. If only I\n would have faith.\n (BEAT)\n That was twenty-five years ago. And\n I've been walking ever since.\n \n SOLAR", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", "thing.\n \n He begins to read, half-hidden in the shadows of the fading\n sunlight. Silently mouthing the words as he reads them.\n \n MANY PAGES LATER\n \n Eli closes the book and parcels it back up as before.\n Replaces it in his pack, then reaches in for something else.\n \n A CAR BATTERY. Old and streaked with acid stains. Attached to\n a tangled bunch of ELECTRICAL WIRING and JUMPER CABLE", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", "t trust it with\n anyone. Not even for a while.\n \n 52.\n \n \n SOLARA\n What's so special about that book?\n \n BEAT. Eli runs his fingers across the embossed gold cross on\n the beat-up leather cover.\n \n ELI\n It's the last one. There are no\n other books like this. All the\n others are gone - destroyed by the\n war or in the burnings that came", "floor to ceiling with books. Lombardi shows Eli and Solara\n around. Behind them, a pair of ARMED GUARDS follow closely.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Yes, we've been doing this for some\n time now. Collected over thirty\n thousand volumes from generous\n donors all across the nation. We\n even have a printing press that we\n hope to have operational soon.\n \n Solara is stunned as she surveys the endless stacks of books.\n She's never", "LES)\n No.\n \n SOLARA\n What book is it from? Is it poetry?\n \n ELI\n I guess you could think of it that\n way. It's from the Holy Bible.\n \n SOLARA\n I never heard of it. What's it\n about?\n \n BEAT as Eli thinks. How on earth to answer that?\n \n ELI\n It's about love, and forgiveness,\n and", "itary fatigues is stationed\n in one of the perimeter towers. Training a rifle on them.\n \n ALCATRAZ GUARD\n Identify yourselves!\n \n In the opposite tower ANOTHER GUARD has his rifle trained on\n them too. Eli looks up, raises his hands.\n \n ELI\n My name is Elijah Stone. I have a\n message for your boss. I need you\n to tell him that I have a King\n James Bible in my possession", "closes the bible, LOMBARDI\n appears behind her.\n \n LOMBARDI\n You know, you don't have to leave.\n You're welcome to stay here with\n us. You'll be safe.\n \n SOLARA\n Thanks.\n \n She stands, pulling Eli's sword from the earth.\n \n SOLARA\n But I gotta do what I gotta do.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Where", "down. Eli just stares right back. Totally\n unflappable. Redridge motions to his men.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Check the pack.\n \n The gunman carrying Eli's pack opens it up and tips its\n contents out onto the ground. The ghillie suit, battery, some\n old canned goods, other odds and ends. No sign of the book.\n \n CARNEGIE GUNMAN #4\n It ain't here.\n \n ", "ara. What a delightful name. Is\n that by any chance Shakespearean?\n \n SOLARA\n I, uh, I think it's Japanese.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Wonderful.\n \n He turns back to Eli.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Is it true what they tell me? You\n have a King James Version?\n \n ELI\n Been carrying it with me for twenty-\n five years.\n \n" ], [ ", eyes wide, frozen\n in shock. His fingers go limp, dropping the bottle.\n \n He slides off the sword and collapses to the floor, dead.\n \n Eli wipes the sword clean and sheathes it. Looks around at\n the bloodied, fallen bodies. Then back at Solara.\n \n ELI\n I'm sorry for all the mess.\n \n As he turns and heads toward the door:\n \n CARNEGIE (O.S.)\n Hold it right there.", " to stay the night. If I don't...\n \n ELI\n If you don't, what?\n \n SOLARA\n He'll hurt my mom.\n \n ELI\n Who will? Carnegie?\n \n She nods, fighting back a tear. This angers Eli.\n \n ELI\n Maybe he and I oughta have words.\n \n He goes for the door handle, but she stops him.\n \n SOLARA", " Redridge clutches his bloody hand, glares at Eli furiously.\n Pulls his gun again and marches right up to him, pressing the\n muzzle tight against his forehead.\n \n REDRIDGE\n If you don't got the book, what\n fucking use are you?\n \n His finger tightens on the trigger.\n \n SOLARA\n Wait!\n \n She breaks from the gunmen holding her and rushes toward\n Redridge. Reaches inside her dress", ".\n \n SOLARA\n If you hurt him, I'm not coming\n back with you. You'll have to drag\n me kicking and screaming.\n \n Solara glares at Redridge. He sighs. He can tell she means\n it. It's not worth the aggravation. He turns back to Eli.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Take your shit and get out of here.\n \n Eli gathers up his stuff into his pack. Shoulders it and goes\n ", "movement Eli PISTOL-WHIPS him to the floor.\n \n ELI\n But this ain't it.\n \n He turns to Solara and offers her his hand.\n \n ELI\n Come on.\n \n EXT. PALLADIUM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli emerges from the theater, leading Solara onto the street.\n RESIDENTS part before them, staring at Eli with astonishment.\n \n Eli passes the statue of Carnegie - and STOPS", "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", " SOLARA\n (SOFTLY)\n You did.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Who taught you that?\n \n SOLARA\n Eli taught me.\n \n CARNEGIE\n (PUZZLED)\n Who the hell is Eli?\n \n SOLARA\n The walker. That's his name.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And he taught you how to say those\n words", " \n CARNEGIE\n How was your night? Did you sleep\n well?\n \n Claudia appears perturbed by Carnegie's subtle probing.\n Solara flashes him a frosty look.\n \n SOLARA\n I did like you asked. Isn't that\n what you really want to know? Just\n come out and say it.\n \n Carnegie glares at her sternly.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You don'", "END TO SOLARA\n \n She unsheathes Eli's sword, plants it in the ground before\n his grave. Takes the BOOK from under her arm and opens it up.\n \n It's a NEW BIBLE. Crudely typeset from Lombardi's original\n transcription and printed on the prison press.\n \n She opens it up and begins to read a passage from the bible\n over Eli's grave. We don't hear what she says.\n \n As Solara finishes her reading and", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", ".\n \n REDRIDGE\n There ain't much gas in reserve.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Whatever there is, use it.\n \n Redridge nods and goes to leave.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What about Solara?\n \n BEAT. In all this excitement about the book, she had been\n completely forgotten about.\n \n CLAUDIA\n She's still out there. With him.\n \n CAR", "\n \n He doesn't look back at her. She turns and exits.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS\n \n Solara exits via the Palladium's STAGE DOOR and walks across\n the busy street to where TWO OF CARNEGIE'S ARMED MEN stand\n guard around an ENCLOSURE OF CHAIN-LINK FENCE TOPPED WITH\n RAZOR WIRE. TOWNSFOLK wait in", "of the besieged house. She runs from the vehicle to\n where ELI'S SWORD lies in the dirt and grabs it up.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DUSK\n \n Solara races down the road in the car, pedal to the metal.\n \n SOLARA\n Come on, come on...\n \n Eventually, she sees him. At first just a dot on the horizon.\n But unmistakably Eli. By now, she'd know him anywhere.\n \n Suddenly the engine", " \n Redridge grabs her by the arm and pulls her toward the\n vehicles as his men load up and prepare to move out.\n \n IN THE REARMOST VEHICLE\n \n Solara sits in the back seat, staring out the rear window as\n it drives down the road at the tail end of the convoy.\n \n She watches as Eli moves away down the road, getting smaller\n and smaller until he is just a speck on the horizon.\n \n She bursts into floods of uncontrollable tears.\n", " Go! Go!\n \n They spot Eli sprinting away and rush off in pursuit.\n \n Carnegie gets to his feet and storms back inside the theater.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Solara and Claudia watch through the window. Turn suddenly\n when they hear the door slam open behind them.\n \n Carnegie stands in the doorway, glaring at them.\n \n EXT. DESERT TOWN - MAIN STREET -", ". Then in the same fluid motion draws\n a PISTOL from his belt that we never even knew he had.\n \n ELI\n This, though? With this I'll shave\n the hairs clean off your balls at a\n hundred paces. You believe me?\n \n Carnegie releases his grip on Solara, steps away, hands up.\n \n CARNEGIE\n I believe you. I have to say I'm\n surprised to hear that language\n coming from you,", "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", "ridge takes the book. Runs his hand over the\n leather cover, gazes admiringly at the gold-embossed cross.\n \n REDRIDGE\n You did good, sweetheart. Your\n daddy would be proud. He knew you'd\n come through for him.\n \n Solara looks at Eli guiltily. She feels terrible.\n \n SOLARA\n He said he would hurt my mom. If I\n didn't help him.\n \n REDR", "s right at the end of the main road, the\n perimeter where the town meets the open desert. He's free.\n \n And then, A GIRL'S SCREAM. Distant but unmistakable.\n \n Eli whips around. In the upstairs window of the theater,\n Carnegie shoves Solara roughly against the wall. Barking\n angrily at her, shaking her.\n \n Eli looks at the road. Then up at the theater. Then back to\n the road again.\n \n E", "US\n \n Redridge finally manages to clamber back up to his feet,\n wincing as he clutches his painful shoulder wound.\n \n He looks up just in time to see Eli coming right at him.\n Without breaking stride, he COLD-COCKS Redridge in the jaw\n with the shotgun, sending him back to the deck, out cold.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli kicks the door wide open, finds Carnegie holding Sol" ], [ "\n \n As Carnegie rejects each book with growing disappointment and\n frustration, it's clear he's looking for a specific volume.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It's not here.\n \n HOG\n These ain't worth nothin'?\n \n CARNEGIE\n When you bring me the book I asked\n you for, it'll be worth something.\n \n The bikers exchange more looks. An unspoken conversation.\n \n ", " CARNEGIE\n You know, I've been searching for a\n book like that one for years. All\n I've ever wanted was to bring the\n word of God to these poor\n unfortunates here. To shine its\n light upon them and give them\n something in this wretched world\n that they could believe in.\n Something to live for! It's why I\n built this town, did you know that?\n All we've been missing is the word", "eye. His gaze\n like a laser beam, utterly disarming.\n \n CARNEGIE\n The book I want is out there\n somewhere, just waiting to be\n found. Once there were millions of\n copies - you only need to find one!\n Find it and bring it here. And I\n promise you, you will be rewarded\n beyond anything you can imagine.\n \n It's impossible not to be swayed by this guy. He's just so\n full of fiery passion", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "onto Carnegie's desk.\n \n BOOKS. About a dozen different volumes of all shapes and\n sizes. Carnegie rifles excitedly through the collection.\n \n We see various titles as he sorts through them. Treasure\n Island. The Da Vinci Code. A volume of encyclopedia. The\n Diary of Anne Frank. Tuesdays with Morrie.\n \n In amongst the books are a few MAGAZINES. An old issue of\n OPRAH magazine. A torn copy of SPORTS ILL", "CARNEGIE\n Straight to the point. I like that.\n Fact is, you could be in a lot of\n trouble. This is a peaceful town.\n You walk in here, armed, and the\n next thing a dozen of my good\n citizens are dead. I've hanged men\n for less. I could hang you.\n (BEAT)\n Or, you could come work for me.\n \n ELI\n What?\n \n CARNEGIE\n I never once saw anyone handle", "? What the hell\n kinda book can be worth all this?\n \n Carnegie ignores him. Stands, walks toward the door. Redridge\n sighs, gestures toward the books piled on Carnegie's desk.\n \n 26.\n \n \n REDRIDGE\n What about these?\n \n CARNEGIE\n Put them with the others.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - MAIN LOBBY - DAY\n \n", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", " Well, you sure as hell found it. Do\n you know who I am?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n CARNEGIE\n My name's Carnegie. I own this bar.\n I own the whole town. You've never\n heard of me?\n \n ELI\n That's you out there on the street.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Remarkable likeness, isn't it?\n You", " CARNEGIE\n Show me.\n \n Redridge hands it over. Carnegie sits back in his chair,\n running his hand lovingly over the battered leather cover.\n \n 109.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n The new world begins here...\n \n He opens the book and looks inside.\n \n BEAT. And then he looks up at Redridge, confused.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What the fuck is this?\n", "I've\n needed is the one thing that's\n always been missing. Then one day\n it walks right into town - so close\n I can almost touch it - and then\n walks right on out again.\n \n Carnegie finally looks up from his animals, at Redridge.\n \n 67.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n I want you to put a crew together\n and go out after him.\n \n REDRIDGE\n ", "GIE\n What do you think, darling? A whole\n new world, to do with as we will.\n Won't that be grand?\n \n She smiles halfheartedly, but it's clear she is mortified.\n \n Carnegie turns back to Redridge.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Find that book.\n \n REDRIDGE\n He has half a day on us already.\n \n CARNEGIE\n So use the motor pool", " He's not going to work for you. I\n think he's made that plain.\n \n CARNEGIE\n I'm not interested in him any more.\n I only want the book he's carrying.\n \n REDRIDGE\n If I'm gonna risk my ass hunting\n down this maniac in the outland, I\n need to know it's gonna be worth\n it. I need to know what's so\n special about this goddamn", "they were looking for.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Not one of them can read. How would\n they even know when they found it?\n \n REDRIDGE\n So how's about you just tell me?\n \n Carnegie and Redridge lock eyes. BEAT.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Two years now you been sending\n these crews into the outland.\n Burning up gas we can barely spare.\n For a goddamn book", "give these people what they\n want to hear...\n \n Carnegie trails off, the thought too awful to contemplate.\n Claudia adopts a sympathetic expression, supportive.\n \n CLAUDIA\n You'll find what you're looking\n for. It's out there somewhere. You\n just have to have faith.\n \n This seems to anger Carnegie. He wheels on her.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith? Is that what you think we're\n", ". I never\n even heard of anything like that.\n \n Carnegie doesn't appear to be listening. He is lost in a\n world of his own as he tends to the farm animals.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You know, I always thought of\n myself as a shepherd. Bringing\n together the wayward and the lost.\n Tending to my flock. But all the\n things I want to do, I can't do\n them on my own. The one thing", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", "But he\n looks almost civilized. Respectable. His name is CARNEGIE.\n \n He looks up from his book at the sound of a POLITE COUGH O.S.\n \n REDRIDGE stands before him. Tall, powerfully built.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What is it?\n \n His accent is like caramel. A RICH, DEEP-SOUTH DRAWL.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Survey team just finished up", "to his side.\n \n ELI\n Is there someplace we could sit?\n \n LOMBARDI\n Of course. Right this way.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Redridge appears. Carnegie looks at him eagerly.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Did you get it?\n \n Redridge holds the bible up proudly. Carnegie beams.\n \n ", ". If there's something\n wrong, maybe I can help.\n \n Carnegie is a practiced liar. Much more difficult to read.\n \n 40.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n This is Redridge. He's kind of my\n right-hand man around here.\n \n Redridge - one of the two men who chased Eli into the room -\n steps forward. He regards Eli with a distrustful eye.\n \n CARNEGIE" ], [ "\n Old ripped-out theater seats arranged around tables. A\n FIREPLACE sputters dimly.\n \n A MANGY TABBY CAT walks across the straw-laden floor. A dozen\n or so CUSTOMERS in the place, a mixed, rough-looking bunch.\n \n Redridge emerges from an upstairs room and nods to a group of\n his MEN who are holding the bikers at the foot of the stairs.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNE", "\n assembled outside the Palladium theater. AN ARMED CREW OF\n CARNEGIE'S GOONS keeps watch over the crowd.\n \n Carnegie stands on a BALCONY above the theater marquee. He\n treats the balcony like a pulpit, speaking through a\n MICROPHONE connected to an old PA SYSTEM that carries his\n words to the far reaches of the crowd.\n \n CARNEGIE\n I want you all to remember how far\n we've come", "may be going. Carnegie\n senses this and dials up his rhetoric - delivering it now\n with the fire-brand passion of an old-time baptist preacher.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It is our faith that sustains us,\n brothers and sisters! Hallelujah!\n \n 21.\n \n \n The crowd is divided. Many return the \"Hallelujah\" with\n varying levels of conviction. Others are not convinced. But\n Carnegie continues unabated", "a much broader ripple of discontent through the\n crowd - this news has not been received well at all. Some\n still \"keep the faith\" but many more are perturbed by this.\n \n Carnegie motions for the crowd to settle down.\n \n CARNEGIE\n I understand your frustration. The\n road to salvation is a difficult\n one - but what lies at the end of\n that road is a greater glory,\n beyond anything you can imagine.\n \n A DISCONTENTED", ", they\n drink, they survive. Last year, a\n couple of them even got married -\n performed the ceremony myself.\n (BEAT)\n You see, I'm not exploiting these\n people - I'm saving them! Any one\n of them is free to leave whenever\n they wish. But here they stay. And\n they thank me every single day for\n their salvation!\n \n An impressive, impassioned performance. He sounds just like\n an old-school TV evangel", "! They're not\n robbers or road agents! One of\n them's just a girl!\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Seen that before. Oldest trick in\n the book.\n \n 86.\n \n \n ELDERLY WOMAN\n Oh, stop! It's no trick. Let them\n down!\n \n The woman glares at him. The husband reluctantly accedes and\n moves to the concealed trap appar", "mixed about what they have heard.\n \n As the assembled townsfolk disperse, FOUR MOTORCYCLES roar\n into town and pull up outside the Palladium.\n \n As the riders dismount, one detaches a CLOTH SATCHEL from his\n bike's cargo rack. The four riders head inside. They each\n have long, straggly hair and brutish expressions.\n \n We recognize them now as the BIKER BANDITS who killed the\n couple on the road under", "all. Bring out the girl\n with the book.\n \n INT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli is crouched beneath the window. George and Martha have\n taken up positions at other windows, peering out.\n \n REDRIDGE (O.S.)\n That's all we want. The girl and\n the book. The rest of you's can go\n your way.\n \n SOLARA\n What are we going", "s an\n old word. I'm not a slaver. I'm\n trying to help these people.\n \n Carnegie can't help himself - once again he is in his natural\n element, spinning the argument his way, pitching. Selling.\n \n CARNEGIE\n In the outland the sightless are\n preyed upon like sick animals. Here\n at least they're protected. They do\n the essential work others don't\n want. And in return they eat", "like\n cattle by a brutish CHAIN GANG BOSS who swats at them with a\n stick to keep them moving and indicate direction.\n \n CHAIN GANG BOSS\n Come on, move it!\n \n The gang boss glares at Eli as he passes by. Eli doesn't\n return the look, just continues crossing the street as the\n blind are herded away. Headed toward a wooden building with a\n pictogram of a LIGHTNING BOLT suspended above the door.\n \n INT. ENGINEER", "ats it like a mantra. He clearly wants to intervene,\n but will not permit himself to. Instead, he simply sits and\n waits grimly as the woman continues to scream for help. And\n then finally, suddenly, is silenced.\n \n Down below, the bodies of the man and woman lay dead and\n bloodied in the dirt. The bikers tear the tarp from the\n wheelbarrow, spilling its contents onto the asphalt.\n \n They ferret through the items, scavenging a few items - we\n", "We'll see. This is my town, nobody\n leaves until I say they leave.\n \n He glances knowingly at Claudia.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Solara, honey, eat something.\n \n She looks at the food on the plate before her. Then closes\n her eyes and clasps her hands in prayer.\n \n SOLARA\n Our father, thank you for this meal\n which you have been so gracious to\n place before us.\n \n Claud", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", ", selling it harder than ever.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And mark me, the ultimate\n validation of that faith is coming!\n The sacred Word of Our Lord that\n formed the world before and will\n reform it once again is coming to\n this town to bring it succor, bring\n it nourishment, bring it new life!\n For the Almighty Himself has spoken\n unto me and promised it!\n \n Carnegie is such an impassioned and insp", "floor to ceiling with books. Lombardi shows Eli and Solara\n around. Behind them, a pair of ARMED GUARDS follow closely.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Yes, we've been doing this for some\n time now. Collected over thirty\n thousand volumes from generous\n donors all across the nation. We\n even have a printing press that we\n hope to have operational soon.\n \n Solara is stunned as she surveys the endless stacks of books.\n She's never", "It has the power to motivate\n people. It can give them hope, it\n can terrify them. It can shape\n them. Control them.\n (BEAT)\n Do you remember how I built this\n town? It wasn't done with force,\n and it wasn't done just with water.\n It was done with the power of\n words. I created this place out of\n nothing, because people believed in\n a promise that I sold to them.\n Those guys on", " \n INT. PALLADIUM - MAIN LOBBY - DAY\n \n What was once a grand, gilded entrance foyer has, like the\n rest of the theater, been largely gutted. But it's still\n impressive - a spacious bar area with a grand staircase\n leading up to a second floor, entrance to balcony seats, etc.\n FADED OLD THEATER POSTERS still hang from the walls.\n \n The place has been shabbily converted into a kind of SALOON.", " MARTHA\n Well, George is something of a\n handyman, aren't you, dear? He did\n a lot of work on the place, making\n it safe. We may be old, but we're\n resilient. We've had more than a\n few who've tried to take this place\n from us. Haven't we, George?\n \n GEORGE\n Yes. Yes we have.\n \n He stands and moves toward the back door.", "\n \n \n CHAOS in the bar below. Eli cutting a one-man swath of mayhem\n through the dozen brawlers. Most already lie dead. TWO MORE\n MEN ATTACK Eli and are effortlessly felled by his sword.\n \n Carnegie rushes hurriedly along the landing, banging loudly\n on the doors of the upstairs rooms.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Get your asses out here!\n \n ON ELI. Surrounded by the dead, only one man left", "men...\n \n His eyes roll back as his final breath leaves him. Dead. Eli\n signs a cross over his body, then stands and walks away.\n \n Solara sits on the ground nearby, a wreck. Eli approaches and\n gathers her up in his arms. She clings on to him tightly.\n \n SOLARA\n You came back for me.\n \n ELI\n What are friends for?\n \n She laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. Grips him tighter.\n " ], [ "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", "and PRODUCES THE BIBLE.\n \n SOLARA\n It's here! I've got it! Please\n don't kill him.\n \n ELI\n Solara...\n \n SOLARA\n It's just a book, Eli. No book is\n worth giving up your life for.\n \n ELI\n You're wrong.\n \n 98.\n \n \n Satisfied, Red", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "waning sunlight shafts through the bedroom's\n broken window. Eli rummages through his backpack, pulls out a\n SMALL PACKAGE wrapped in cloth and tied fast with string.\n \n He sits back in his corner and carefully unwraps it. It's an\n OLD LEATHER-BOUND BOOK. The binding cracked and pages dog-\n eared, thumbed through a thousand times and more.\n \n Eli gazes lovingly at it. Lets his fingers play across the\n beat-up old leather cover. A cherished", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "LES)\n No.\n \n SOLARA\n What book is it from? Is it poetry?\n \n ELI\n I guess you could think of it that\n way. It's from the Holy Bible.\n \n SOLARA\n I never heard of it. What's it\n about?\n \n BEAT as Eli thinks. How on earth to answer that?\n \n ELI\n It's about love, and forgiveness,\n and", ".\n \n ELI (cont'd)\n It told me that a path would be\n laid out before me, that I'd be led\n to a place where this book would be\n safe. It told me I'd be protected\n against anyone or anything that\n tried to stand in my way. If only I\n would have faith.\n (BEAT)\n That was twenty-five years ago. And\n I've been walking ever since.\n \n SOLAR", "ara. What a delightful name. Is\n that by any chance Shakespearean?\n \n SOLARA\n I, uh, I think it's Japanese.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Wonderful.\n \n He turns back to Eli.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Is it true what they tell me? You\n have a King James Version?\n \n ELI\n Been carrying it with me for twenty-\n five years.\n \n", "thing.\n \n He begins to read, half-hidden in the shadows of the fading\n sunlight. Silently mouthing the words as he reads them.\n \n MANY PAGES LATER\n \n Eli closes the book and parcels it back up as before.\n Replaces it in his pack, then reaches in for something else.\n \n A CAR BATTERY. Old and streaked with acid stains. Attached to\n a tangled bunch of ELECTRICAL WIRING and JUMPER CABLE", "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", "I'd met some men on the road. Bad\n men. They...\n \n BEAT. She trails off, struggling with this unhappy memory.\n Eli gets it, raises a hand reassuringly.\n \n ELI\n It's all right.\n \n 42.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n I was on the road for a year after\n that. I couldn't feed myself, let\n alone my little girl. And then Bill\n found us", "As she walks away into the sun, her lonely silhouette on the\n road reminds us of Eli as we saw him so many times before.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n I have kept the faith.\n \n She grows smaller and smaller as she walks into the distance,\n until she consumed by the rising sun and we\n \n FADE OUT:\n \n \n\n", "word exactly as I say it.\n \n Eli removes his goggles. Solara can't believe what she sees.\n \n His eyes are pale, milky-white, dead. TOTALLY BLIND.\n \n ELI\n The First Book of Moses called\n Genesis. Chapter one, verse one. In\n the beginning God created the\n heavens and the earth. Verse two.\n The earth was without form, and\n void; and darkness was on the face\n of the", "old clothes. She's on her knees trying to gather it up.\n \n She looks up as she sees Eli approaching. Instantly cowers\n from him, raising her hands to protect herself. Terrified.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Oh. Please don't hurt me. Here,\n take anything you want. You want\n some food? Take it.\n \n She offers him a can of pet food with a trembling hand. Eli\n stands there looking at her. His expression impossible to\n read behind the mir", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", "closes the bible, LOMBARDI\n appears behind her.\n \n LOMBARDI\n You know, you don't have to leave.\n You're welcome to stay here with\n us. You'll be safe.\n \n SOLARA\n Thanks.\n \n She stands, pulling Eli's sword from the earth.\n \n SOLARA\n But I gotta do what I gotta do.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Where", " Thorns and thistles shall it sprout\n for you. From the ground were you\n taken. For dust you are.\n \n The patrons look at Eli strangely. Who is this guy?\n \n Eli reaches back and draws the samurai sword. Carves a line\n in the dirt at his feet with the tip of the blade.\n \n ELI\n And to dust you shall return.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - CARNEGIE'S BEDROOM - D" ], [ "\n \n As Carnegie rejects each book with growing disappointment and\n frustration, it's clear he's looking for a specific volume.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It's not here.\n \n HOG\n These ain't worth nothin'?\n \n CARNEGIE\n When you bring me the book I asked\n you for, it'll be worth something.\n \n The bikers exchange more looks. An unspoken conversation.\n \n ", "onto Carnegie's desk.\n \n BOOKS. About a dozen different volumes of all shapes and\n sizes. Carnegie rifles excitedly through the collection.\n \n We see various titles as he sorts through them. Treasure\n Island. The Da Vinci Code. A volume of encyclopedia. The\n Diary of Anne Frank. Tuesdays with Morrie.\n \n In amongst the books are a few MAGAZINES. An old issue of\n OPRAH magazine. A torn copy of SPORTS ILL", "waning sunlight shafts through the bedroom's\n broken window. Eli rummages through his backpack, pulls out a\n SMALL PACKAGE wrapped in cloth and tied fast with string.\n \n He sits back in his corner and carefully unwraps it. It's an\n OLD LEATHER-BOUND BOOK. The binding cracked and pages dog-\n eared, thumbed through a thousand times and more.\n \n Eli gazes lovingly at it. Lets his fingers play across the\n beat-up old leather cover. A cherished", "\n You're going to read it for me.\n Every word. And I'm going to write\n it down. Start at the beginning.\n \n As Carnegie hunts on his desk for a paper and pen, Claudia\n opens the book and trails her fingertips across the raised\n lettering.\n \n 111.\n \n \n For a moment there is a glimmer of recognition... a faint\n smile... but then it fades as Carnegie turns back to her,\n eager", "they were looking for.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Not one of them can read. How would\n they even know when they found it?\n \n REDRIDGE\n So how's about you just tell me?\n \n Carnegie and Redridge lock eyes. BEAT.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Two years now you been sending\n these crews into the outland.\n Burning up gas we can barely spare.\n For a goddamn book", "eye. His gaze\n like a laser beam, utterly disarming.\n \n CARNEGIE\n The book I want is out there\n somewhere, just waiting to be\n found. Once there were millions of\n copies - you only need to find one!\n Find it and bring it here. And I\n promise you, you will be rewarded\n beyond anything you can imagine.\n \n It's impossible not to be swayed by this guy. He's just so\n full of fiery passion", "it cheap.\n \n Eli takes off his scarf and puts it on the bar. The bartender\n takes it and looks it over. Not particularly impressed.\n \n BARTENDER\n That'll get you maybe half-way.\n \n The bartender spies Eli's silver Saint Christopher pendant.\n \n BARTENDER\n What about that?\n \n Eli stuffs the pendant inside his shirt. No way that's for\n sale. Instead, he reaches into his coat and produces the fur\n", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", "? How did he know them?\n \n SOLARA\n He had them written down in a book.\n \n This piques Carnegie's interest greatly.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What kind of a book?\n \n He barks the question at her. Solara is rattled.\n \n SOLARA\n I don't remember! It was an old\n leather book. It had kind of a...\n thing on the front of it.\n \n", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "the road you sleep with one eye\n open. I asked you what you were\n doing.\n \n SOLARA\n I just wanted to see the book.\n \n ELI\n You want to see the book, you ask\n me. Nobody touches it but me. Ever.\n Until it gets where it's going. Do\n you understand?\n \n He's very forceful. She nods, a little afraid of him.\n \n ELI\n Tell me you", "? What the hell\n kinda book can be worth all this?\n \n Carnegie ignores him. Stands, walks toward the door. Redridge\n sighs, gestures toward the books piled on Carnegie's desk.\n \n 26.\n \n \n REDRIDGE\n What about these?\n \n CARNEGIE\n Put them with the others.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - MAIN LOBBY - DAY\n \n", ".\n \n LOMBARDI\n May I ask what condition it's in?\n \n ELI\n It's a little beat-up. But it'll do\n the job.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Well, then. What say we take a look\n at it?\n \n Lombardi looks at Eli with anticipation. So does Solara,\n interested to know where this is going to go next.\n \n Eli winces in pain, puts his hand", "t trust it with\n anyone. Not even for a while.\n \n 52.\n \n \n SOLARA\n What's so special about that book?\n \n BEAT. Eli runs his fingers across the embossed gold cross on\n the beat-up leather cover.\n \n ELI\n It's the last one. There are no\n other books like this. All the\n others are gone - destroyed by the\n war or in the burnings that came", "book.\n \n BEAT as Carnegie considers this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You have no idea. You're too young,\n you don't remember the world\n before. But I do. I remember.\n \n He turns back to his animals, summoning up old memories.\n \n CARNEGIE\n When I was a kid my parents used to\n read that book every goddamn day.\n My mother, she'd read it along with\n ", " CARNEGIE\n You know, I've been searching for a\n book like that one for years. All\n I've ever wanted was to bring the\n word of God to these poor\n unfortunates here. To shine its\n light upon them and give them\n something in this wretched world\n that they could believe in.\n Something to live for! It's why I\n built this town, did you know that?\n All we've been missing is the word", " Isn't that what you want? I could\n help you do that. You and me, we\n could do it together.\n \n BEAT. Eli seems to be considering what he's heard carefully.\n \n ELI\n The Lord himself told me that if I\n carried this book west, one day I\n would find the place where it was\n needed. Where it would be safe.\n Where it belonged.\n \n Carnegie smiles broadly... and then with a sudden blur of\n ", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", "thing.\n \n He begins to read, half-hidden in the shadows of the fading\n sunlight. Silently mouthing the words as he reads them.\n \n MANY PAGES LATER\n \n Eli closes the book and parcels it back up as before.\n Replaces it in his pack, then reaches in for something else.\n \n A CAR BATTERY. Old and streaked with acid stains. Attached to\n a tangled bunch of ELECTRICAL WIRING and JUMPER CABLE" ], [ "worries about me so\n much.\n \n Again, bittersweet. The sense that Claudia feels trapped.\n Thinking about it begins to upset her. She gets up.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I should go. He'll be wondering\n where I am.\n \n 43.\n \n \n Eli stands, escorts her to the door and opens it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Thank you. I enjoyed our\n conversation.\n \n", "and he promised he'd take\n care of us. He told me he was going\n to make a place where we could be\n safe. And he did. He did all that.\n He built this whole town. He kept\n us safe. And he raised that child\n like she was his own. He's been so\n good to both of us. He saved us,\n really.\n \n There's a bittersweet quality to Claudia's words. As though\n there is more to the story", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "LI\n Just making conversation is all.\n Haven't had one of those in a\n while. Not a real one, leastways.\n \n Claudia smiles. Neither has she.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He found me in the outland. I was\n sixteen, my family had been...\n well, they were gone. There was\n just me and my baby.\n \n ELI\n You had a baby?\n \n CLAUDIA\n ", "than she is telling.\n \n Eli pulls out a chair at the table, offers it to her.\n \n ELI\n You want to eat some?\n \n She smiles and sits. Eli sits across from her.\n \n ELI\n When did you go blind? In the war?\n You get caught in a flash?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No, I was born this way. I think\n I'm lucky like that.\n \n ELI\n L", "Claudia.\n Sooner or later you're going to\n have to accept that. She has to\n earn her keep around here, same as\n the rest of us.\n \n CLAUDIA\n By working as a whore? That's all\n you think she's fit for?\n \n 45.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n We've each been given a talent to\n help us make our way in this world.\n", "\n \n Lit only by the pale moonlight, barely enough to see by.\n \n Carnegie sleeps soundly in bed. Next to him lies Claudia,\n wide awake. She checks that Carnegie is sound asleep, careful\n not to wake him before she creeps out of bed and exits.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - NIGHT\n \n Claudia is on her hands and knees in the darkness, searching\n blindly in the aisles and beneath the theater seats.\n \n ", "\n \n He's in her face now. Claudia avoids eye contact, submissive.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Faith is for the weak. It's for\n them out there, the sheep. This\n world is what you can see and touch\n and taste. It's what you make it.\n All these years with me, you still\n don't have any grasp of that?\n What's wrong with you, woman?\n \n He's shouting now, and", ".\n Finally Claudia turns to face him.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Something wrong?\n \n CARNEGIE\n More books came in from the road\n today.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Oh? It's been a while.\n \n CARNEGIE\n And it'll be a while longer. Just\n another pile of useless junk. If we\n don't find the right one soon - if\n I can't", "Her name is CLAUDIA. Early 30s, pretty. She gazes into the\n mirror as she dries her hands, but it's so cracked and warped\n it's near impossible to see a reflection.\n \n The door opens and Carnegie enters. He still looks steamed.\n Claudia doesn't turn to look at him, keeps facing the mirror.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Is that you, honey?\n \n Carnegie says nothing. Just paces angrily up and down", "\n \n 69.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh, it'll say what I want, I can\n promise you that. Because I'm going\n to rewrite it. I'll keep the parts\n that work for me and make the rest\n whatever I need it to be.\n (BEAT)\n A new bible, for a new world.\n \n He reaches out and takes Claudia by the hand.\n \n CARNE", "some water?\n \n A subtly accusing tone. It makes Claudia nervous.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He wanted to talk.\n \n CARNEGIE\n Oh? What about?\n \n CLAUDIA\n Nothing really. He asked me what it\n was like to be blind.\n \n CARNEGIE\n He tell you anything about him?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No. I don't think he", "\n \n CLAUDIA\n You can't send her in there with\n him. He's dangerous, he's a killer!\n \n CARNEGIE\n You went in there readily enough.\n \n CLAUDIA\n That's different. Solara's just a\n child, she can't-\n \n Carnegie sighs, tiring of this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She's a grown woman now,", "it?\n \n ELI\n Oh. Thank you.\n \n He takes the stuff from her, sets it on the table.\n \n 41.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n You're very welcome.\n \n We get the impression that Claudia is as unfamiliar with this\n kind of polite interaction as Eli. But she likes it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n It'll be dark soon.\n \n She strikes a match and lights the", "girl off the road, a\n girl who'd been beaten and raped,\n and give her a place where she can\n live without fear! Without me you'd\n be just another no-eye, lying dead\n in the outland, picked clean by the\n buzzards, or shoveling dirt down\n there with the others. That's the\n kind of man I am!\n \n He has her against the wall, his face just inches from hers.\n \n CLAUDIA", "AY\n \n Carnegie has Claudia pinned against the wall, his pants\n bunched around his ankles, ass bared as he pounds away at\n her. Not making love. This is mechanical, loveless sex.\n \n Claudia stares vacantly over his shoulder into space as\n Carnegie thrusts into her again and again. Deeply\n uninterested, just waiting for it to be over.\n \n Suddenly, we hear a CRASH O.S. Carnegie stops and listens.\n \n CAR", "abs it up and tries to rip it in two,\n but it's too thick to tear. Red-faced with rage, he tosses it\n out over the box balcony. It lands somewhere in the dark\n auditorium below, between the rows of gutted theater seats.\n \n As he paces angrily back past Claudia:\n \n CLAUDIA\n Bill, is there something-\n \n CARNEGIE\n Just go. Just get out of my sight.\n \n He sl", "she's trembling, afraid to speak.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry.\n \n Carnegie realizes he's frightened her. He softens.\n \n CARNEGIE\n No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to\n scare you. Hey. You okay?\n \n He lifts her chin up, wipes away a tear.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You just get me all riled up with\n that", "NEGIE\n Did you hear that? What was that?\n \n Claudia sees an opening to get out of this.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Maybe you should go check.\n \n BEAT. Carnegie keeps listening. Then comes another CRASH.\n \n CARNEGIE\n What in the hell is going on?\n \n He pulls up his pants, grabbing a RIFLE propped by the door\n as he rushes out. Claudia just stands there for a moment,\n" ], [ "old clothes. She's on her knees trying to gather it up.\n \n She looks up as she sees Eli approaching. Instantly cowers\n from him, raising her hands to protect herself. Terrified.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Oh. Please don't hurt me. Here,\n take anything you want. You want\n some food? Take it.\n \n She offers him a can of pet food with a trembling hand. Eli\n stands there looking at her. His expression impossible to\n read behind the mir", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "desperately at him.\n \n Eli struggles violently with the cat, wrestling it to the\n ground and grabbing up a HUNK OF FALLEN BRANCH. He holds the\n writhing animal down and CLUBS IT until it lays still.\n \n He sits back, breathing harder than the dustmask will allow.\n He yanks it down, revealing the dirty, unshaven face beneath.\n Impossible to tell his age, but certainly not a young man.\n \n For a moment he just sits there. Then bundles up the", "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", "CK at the door. Eli jumps up and hurriedly hides\n the book inside his shirt.\n \n ELI\n Come in.\n \n The door opens to reveal Solara. Looking very different than\n she did before. Cleaned up and wearing a flowery summer\n dress, blonde hair let down over her shoulders. Stunning.\n \n Unlike everyone else we have met, she seems - physically, at\n least - totally unscarred by the horrors of the times. Far\n too beautiful a thing to belong in a world like", "?\n \n Eli and Solara exchange a look. What the hell is this?\n \n INT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY\n \n It's like something out of the world before. The interior is\n almost perfectly preserved. Chintzy couches. A mahogany\n table. A TV set in the corner. Lace curtains. Unreal.\n \n Eli and Solara sit on the couch, feeling self-conscious and\n looking entirely out of place in this cozy environment.\n \n George sits across", "waning sunlight shafts through the bedroom's\n broken window. Eli rummages through his backpack, pulls out a\n SMALL PACKAGE wrapped in cloth and tied fast with string.\n \n He sits back in his corner and carefully unwraps it. It's an\n OLD LEATHER-BOUND BOOK. The binding cracked and pages dog-\n eared, thumbed through a thousand times and more.\n \n Eli gazes lovingly at it. Lets his fingers play across the\n beat-up old leather cover. A cherished", ".\n \n ELI (cont'd)\n It told me that a path would be\n laid out before me, that I'd be led\n to a place where this book would be\n safe. It told me I'd be protected\n against anyone or anything that\n tried to stand in my way. If only I\n would have faith.\n (BEAT)\n That was twenty-five years ago. And\n I've been walking ever since.\n \n SOLAR", "thing.\n \n He begins to read, half-hidden in the shadows of the fading\n sunlight. Silently mouthing the words as he reads them.\n \n MANY PAGES LATER\n \n Eli closes the book and parcels it back up as before.\n Replaces it in his pack, then reaches in for something else.\n \n A CAR BATTERY. Old and streaked with acid stains. Attached to\n a tangled bunch of ELECTRICAL WIRING and JUMPER CABLE", " The man seems more suspicious than his wife. He drags Eli's\n shotgun toward him with his foot, hands it to his wife.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n Who are you?\n \n ELI\n My name is Eli. This is Solara.\n We're travelers, that's all. We\n don't mean you any harm.\n \n ELDERLY MAN\n You cut my padlock. I saw you.\n Trying to break into", "it?\n \n ELI\n Oh. Thank you.\n \n He takes the stuff from her, sets it on the table.\n \n 41.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n You're very welcome.\n \n We get the impression that Claudia is as unfamiliar with this\n kind of polite interaction as Eli. But she likes it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n It'll be dark soon.\n \n She strikes a match and lights the", "ELI\n It doesn't have to.\n \n They walk on.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - DAY\n \n On the outskirts of a small town that lies in ruins. Almost\n every building burned or reduced to rubble.\n \n Except for one SMALL HOUSE. The building is damaged and worn\n but in mostly decent condition. It stands out among its\n surroundings for being the only structure still intact.\n \n The windows are BARRED. The outer structure fortified with\n SHEET M", " don't see what - and stuffing them into an old cloth satchel.\n They leave the rest strewn in the road and ride off in the\n direction they came, dust pluming in their wake.\n \n 14.\n \n \n Eli waits until the sound of the motorcycles has receded into\n the far distance before emerging from his hiding place.\n \n EXT. ROAD BENEATH OVERPASS - DAY\n \n Eli crouches on one knee before the murdered couple. He", "the road you sleep with one eye\n open. I asked you what you were\n doing.\n \n SOLARA\n I just wanted to see the book.\n \n ELI\n You want to see the book, you ask\n me. Nobody touches it but me. Ever.\n Until it gets where it's going. Do\n you understand?\n \n He's very forceful. She nods, a little afraid of him.\n \n ELI\n Tell me you", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", "than she is telling.\n \n Eli pulls out a chair at the table, offers it to her.\n \n ELI\n You want to eat some?\n \n She smiles and sits. Eli sits across from her.\n \n ELI\n When did you go blind? In the war?\n You get caught in a flash?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No, I was born this way. I think\n I'm lucky like that.\n \n ELI\n L", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", "down. Eli just stares right back. Totally\n unflappable. Redridge motions to his men.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Check the pack.\n \n The gunman carrying Eli's pack opens it up and tips its\n contents out onto the ground. The ghillie suit, battery, some\n old canned goods, other odds and ends. No sign of the book.\n \n CARNEGIE GUNMAN #4\n It ain't here.\n \n ", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "few PRAIRIE DOG\n BURROWS dotted around.\n \n A PRAIRIE DOG pops its head up, scans the horizon. Sniffing\n the air, whiskers twitching... and is SKEWERED BY AN ARROW.\n \n Thirty yards away, one of the pieces of scrub brush appears\n to COME ALIVE. And then we realize it is Eli's GHILLIE SUIT,\n camouflaging both he and Solara beneath it.\n \n Eli casts" ], [ "than she is telling.\n \n Eli pulls out a chair at the table, offers it to her.\n \n ELI\n You want to eat some?\n \n She smiles and sits. Eli sits across from her.\n \n ELI\n When did you go blind? In the war?\n You get caught in a flash?\n \n CLAUDIA\n No, I was born this way. I think\n I'm lucky like that.\n \n ELI\n L", "worries about me so\n much.\n \n Again, bittersweet. The sense that Claudia feels trapped.\n Thinking about it begins to upset her. She gets up.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I should go. He'll be wondering\n where I am.\n \n 43.\n \n \n Eli stands, escorts her to the door and opens it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Thank you. I enjoyed our\n conversation.\n \n", "it?\n \n ELI\n Oh. Thank you.\n \n He takes the stuff from her, sets it on the table.\n \n 41.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n You're very welcome.\n \n We get the impression that Claudia is as unfamiliar with this\n kind of polite interaction as Eli. But she likes it.\n \n CLAUDIA\n It'll be dark soon.\n \n She strikes a match and lights the", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "I'd met some men on the road. Bad\n men. They...\n \n BEAT. She trails off, struggling with this unhappy memory.\n Eli gets it, raises a hand reassuringly.\n \n ELI\n It's all right.\n \n 42.\n \n \n CLAUDIA\n I was on the road for a year after\n that. I couldn't feed myself, let\n alone my little girl. And then Bill\n found us", "oil lamp on the table. The\n room is lit by its flickering glow.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Can I get you anything else?\n \n ELI\n No, thank you.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well. Have a good night.\n \n As she turns for the door:\n \n ELI\n You're Carnegie's woman?\n \n CLAUDIA\n Why do you ask?\n \n E", " ELI\n Hello?\n \n The door opens and CLAUDIA enters. Carrying a metal tub of\n water in both hands and, atop that, a dinner tray.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I have this for you. Water for\n washing and some food.\n \n Eli just stands there. Totally unfamiliar with this kind of\n situation, it's been too long. She smiles, embarrassed.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well... are you going to take", "NEGIE\n So let's not see anybody get hurt.\n Okay?\n \n He speaks more softly now. As he strokes his hand tenderly\n through Claudia's hair, a tear runs down her cheek.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT\n \n Dark outside, but the room is brightly lit by the glow of the\n oil lamp. Eli sits up on his bed, quietly reading the old\n leather-bound book from his backpack.\n \n Another KNO", " ELI\n So did I.\n \n Eli closes the door, then sits back at the table.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - CARNEGIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT\n \n Carnegie washes, looking at himself in the old dressing-room\n mirror. He sees Claudia enter the room in its dim reflection.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You took your time in there. How\n long does it take to deliver a\n plate of food and", "LI\n Just making conversation is all.\n Haven't had one of those in a\n while. Not a real one, leastways.\n \n Claudia smiles. Neither has she.\n \n CLAUDIA\n He found me in the outland. I was\n sixteen, my family had been...\n well, they were gone. There was\n just me and my baby.\n \n ELI\n You had a baby?\n \n CLAUDIA\n ", "CK at the door. Eli jumps up and hurriedly hides\n the book inside his shirt.\n \n ELI\n Come in.\n \n The door opens to reveal Solara. Looking very different than\n she did before. Cleaned up and wearing a flowery summer\n dress, blonde hair let down over her shoulders. Stunning.\n \n Unlike everyone else we have met, she seems - physically, at\n least - totally unscarred by the horrors of the times. Far\n too beautiful a thing to belong in a world like", "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", " don't see what - and stuffing them into an old cloth satchel.\n They leave the rest strewn in the road and ride off in the\n direction they came, dust pluming in their wake.\n \n 14.\n \n \n Eli waits until the sound of the motorcycles has receded into\n the far distance before emerging from his hiding place.\n \n EXT. ROAD BENEATH OVERPASS - DAY\n \n Eli crouches on one knee before the murdered couple. He", "?\n \n Eli and Solara exchange a look. What the hell is this?\n \n INT. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY\n \n It's like something out of the world before. The interior is\n almost perfectly preserved. Chintzy couches. A mahogany\n table. A TV set in the corner. Lace curtains. Unreal.\n \n Eli and Solara sit on the couch, feeling self-conscious and\n looking entirely out of place in this cozy environment.\n \n George sits across", " \n ELI\n How'd you know that?\n \n SOLARA\n My mom says I'm a good judge of\n character. She says I can read\n people. That I know a good man when\n I see one.\n \n She smiles. Eli is surprised to find himself smiling back.\n \n SOLARA\n So... you're pretty old, right?\n \n Eli smiles, amused by the bluntness of the question.\n \n", " He clasps his hands together in prayer.\n \n ELI\n Dear Lord, thank you for your\n generosity in providing us today\n with this bountiful feast.\n \n He speaks QUIETLY, his voice barely above a whisper. Even so,\n we catch the accent - a RASPY, OLD-WORLD MIDWEST DRAWL, like\n John Wayne or some other long-forgotten western icon.\n \n ELI\n Thank you for the many gifts that\n", "old clothes. She's on her knees trying to gather it up.\n \n She looks up as she sees Eli approaching. Instantly cowers\n from him, raising her hands to protect herself. Terrified.\n \n YOUNG WOMAN\n Oh. Please don't hurt me. Here,\n take anything you want. You want\n some food? Take it.\n \n She offers him a can of pet food with a trembling hand. Eli\n stands there looking at her. His expression impossible to\n read behind the mir", "umps in his chair, exhausted and furious. Claudia sadly\n turns and leaves him alone with his thoughts.\n \n INT. ALCATRAZ - CAFETERIA - NIGHT\n \n Some considerable time later. Great stacks of paper have been\n filled with Lombardi's handwriting.\n \n Lombardi's pen races across the paper, struggling to keep up\n with Eli's recitation.\n \n Solara is curled up on a nearby bench, asleep. Eli's coat\n covering her to keep her", "desperately at him.\n \n Eli struggles violently with the cat, wrestling it to the\n ground and grabbing up a HUNK OF FALLEN BRANCH. He holds the\n writhing animal down and CLUBS IT until it lays still.\n \n He sits back, breathing harder than the dustmask will allow.\n He yanks it down, revealing the dirty, unshaven face beneath.\n Impossible to tell his age, but certainly not a young man.\n \n For a moment he just sits there. Then bundles up the", "sneakers, laces them up.\n \n He walks around, pacing up and down, getting a feel for the\n new shoes. They feel good. For the first time, he smiles.\n \n LATER\n \n Eli sits in the corner, roasting the carcass of the dead cat\n over a small CAMPFIRE. He cleans the animal's pelts as he\n watches it cook. Pokes at the meat with a pen-knife, checking\n it for done-ness. It appears ready to eat.\n \n" ], [ "LE BIBLE.\n \n Claudia is ushered in by a guard.\n \n CLAUDIA\n What's wrong?\n \n He rushes forward and thrusts the bible into her hands.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You told me once that you know how\n to read this. This blind language.\n \n CLAUDIA\n Well, a long time ago, when I was a\n little girl...\n \n CARNEGIE", " A CLOTH PACKAGE is tossed from the window. It lands in the\n dirt outside the perimeter fence a few yards from Redridge.\n \n Cautiously, he approaches. The package is wrapped in cloth\n and tied up with twine. It looks like Eli's bible.\n \n He picks it up and tugs at the twine, untying it. Folds away\n the cloth wrapping. Looks for a moment in puzzlement at the\n object, at the words written on the front of it.\n \n THIS", "and PRODUCES THE BIBLE.\n \n SOLARA\n It's here! I've got it! Please\n don't kill him.\n \n ELI\n Solara...\n \n SOLARA\n It's just a book, Eli. No book is\n worth giving up your life for.\n \n ELI\n You're wrong.\n \n 98.\n \n \n Satisfied, Red", " CARNEGIE\n Show me.\n \n Solara makes the SIGN OF A CRUCIFIX with her index fingers.\n Carnegie's eyes widen; he can barely believe it.\n \n CARNEGIE\n He had a bible?\n \n SOLARA\n That's what it was. A holy bible.\n Daddy, what's wrong? Did I...\n \n 59.\n \n \n Carnegie B", "his shirt. Solara's eyes widen.\n \n SOLARA\n And you have a book?\n ELI\n Not just any book.\n \n For the first time we see that it's a KING JAMES BIBLE. An\n embossed GOLD CROSS on its old leather cover.\n \n Eli opens it up, scans the page with his finger until he\n finds the passage he's looking for.\n \n ELI\n The Lord is my shepher", "though. I mean,\n you being a holy man and all.\n \n BEAT. Eli glances at Solara.\n \n CARNEGIE\n She told me all about it. Told me\n all about the bible, too.\n (BEAT)\n Can I see it?\n \n ELI\n No.\n \n Carnegie takes a small step forward. Suddenly, his whole\n demeanor changes, and he now looks at Eli imploringly.\n \n", "t trust it with\n anyone. Not even for a while.\n \n 52.\n \n \n SOLARA\n What's so special about that book?\n \n BEAT. Eli runs his fingers across the embossed gold cross on\n the beat-up leather cover.\n \n ELI\n It's the last one. There are no\n other books like this. All the\n others are gone - destroyed by the\n war or in the burnings that came", " MY NAME IS \"ELI\"\n HOW MAY I HELP YOU?\n \n 80.\n \n \n She stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to make of\n it. Then moves on, continuing to pat him down.\n \n Whatever she's looking for is not here. She turns her\n attention to the backpack. Slowly, carefully, opens it up.\n \n There it is. THE BIBLE, wrapped carefully in its neat little\n package of cloth and tw", "\n to show us the way. And now, praise\n the Lord, you've brought it to us.\n \n 63.\n \n \n Carnegie takes a step closer. He appears entirely sincere -\n but then he is very good at doing so.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It's not right to keep that book\n hidden away, all to yourself. The\n word is meant to be shared with\n others. It's meant to be spread!\n ", "ara. What a delightful name. Is\n that by any chance Shakespearean?\n \n SOLARA\n I, uh, I think it's Japanese.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Wonderful.\n \n He turns back to Eli.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Is it true what they tell me? You\n have a King James Version?\n \n ELI\n Been carrying it with me for twenty-\n five years.\n \n", "the road you sleep with one eye\n open. I asked you what you were\n doing.\n \n SOLARA\n I just wanted to see the book.\n \n ELI\n You want to see the book, you ask\n me. Nobody touches it but me. Ever.\n Until it gets where it's going. Do\n you understand?\n \n He's very forceful. She nods, a little afraid of him.\n \n ELI\n Tell me you", "\n \n As Carnegie rejects each book with growing disappointment and\n frustration, it's clear he's looking for a specific volume.\n \n CARNEGIE\n It's not here.\n \n HOG\n These ain't worth nothin'?\n \n CARNEGIE\n When you bring me the book I asked\n you for, it'll be worth something.\n \n The bikers exchange more looks. An unspoken conversation.\n \n ", "deep. And the spirit of God\n was hovering over the face of the\n waters. Verse three. And God said,\n \"Let there be light,\" and there was\n light.\n \n Lombardi hurriedly writes down every word.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie sits at his desk, still in shock. Eli's bible sits\n open on the desk before him.\n \n A BRAIL", "ly clutching the writing materials.\n \n CLAUDIA\n I'm sorry. It's been so long. I\n don't remember. I don't remember\n any of it.\n \n Carnegie is aghast. BEAT as the anger swells within him,\n threatening to explode...\n \n CARNEGIE\n God fucking dammit!\n \n He swipes violently at the bible, knocking it out of\n Claudia's hands. He gr", "itary fatigues is stationed\n in one of the perimeter towers. Training a rifle on them.\n \n ALCATRAZ GUARD\n Identify yourselves!\n \n In the opposite tower ANOTHER GUARD has his rifle trained on\n them too. Eli looks up, raises his hands.\n \n ELI\n My name is Elijah Stone. I have a\n message for your boss. I need you\n to tell him that I have a King\n James Bible in my possession", "waning sunlight shafts through the bedroom's\n broken window. Eli rummages through his backpack, pulls out a\n SMALL PACKAGE wrapped in cloth and tied fast with string.\n \n He sits back in his corner and carefully unwraps it. It's an\n OLD LEATHER-BOUND BOOK. The binding cracked and pages dog-\n eared, thumbed through a thousand times and more.\n \n Eli gazes lovingly at it. Lets his fingers play across the\n beat-up old leather cover. A cherished", "life and death, and mercy, and\n revenge, and the beginning and the\n end of the world. I guess it's\n about a little bit of everything.\n \n SOLARA\n Can I see?\n \n She reaches out for the book but he snatches it away.\n \n SOLARA\n What? I'm not going to do anything.\n \n ELI\n I'm sorry. I'm charged to protect\n this book. I can'", "floor to ceiling with books. Lombardi shows Eli and Solara\n around. Behind them, a pair of ARMED GUARDS follow closely.\n \n LOMBARDI\n Yes, we've been doing this for some\n time now. Collected over thirty\n thousand volumes from generous\n donors all across the nation. We\n even have a printing press that we\n hope to have operational soon.\n \n Solara is stunned as she surveys the endless stacks of books.\n She's never", " Could you please bring us some\n writing paper?\n \n The guard nods and moves toward the door. As he does so:\n \n ELI\n Bring a lot of it.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM AUDITORIUM - CARNEGIE'S BOX\n \n Carnegie looks at the open bible, jaw hanging loose, his\n complexion ashen. Like he's just been slapped in the face.\n \n REDRIDGE\n What?", "book.\n \n BEAT as Carnegie considers this.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You have no idea. You're too young,\n you don't remember the world\n before. But I do. I remember.\n \n He turns back to his animals, summoning up old memories.\n \n CARNEGIE\n When I was a kid my parents used to\n read that book every goddamn day.\n My mother, she'd read it along with\n " ], [ "As she walks away into the sun, her lonely silhouette on the\n road reminds us of Eli as we saw him so many times before.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n I have kept the faith.\n \n She grows smaller and smaller as she walks into the distance,\n until she consumed by the rising sun and we\n \n FADE OUT:\n \n \n\n", "more coughing. Eli tries to get up, but\n winces in pain. Puts his hand to his side, it comes back WET\n WITH BLOOD. A bad wound. He covers it with his coat, stands\n and moves through the smoke.\n \n ELI\n Solara?\n \n SOLARA (O.S.)\n Eli!\n \n He finds her in the smoke. She embraces him.\n \n ELI\n Are you all right?\n \n ", "She finds Eli's bible in some litter strewn on the floor.\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for the good that I have\n done. For whatever light you were\n able to shine into the darkness of\n this world through me.\n \n Sitting in the darkness, Claudia opens the book and runs her\n fingers across the braille, reading. And though we can barely\n see in the dim light, we see the smile on her face. The joy.\n \n EXT. ALC", "men...\n \n His eyes roll back as his final breath leaves him. Dead. Eli\n signs a cross over his body, then stands and walks away.\n \n Solara sits on the ground nearby, a wreck. Eli approaches and\n gathers her up in his arms. She clings on to him tightly.\n \n SOLARA\n You came back for me.\n \n ELI\n What are friends for?\n \n She laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. Grips him tighter.\n ", " ELI\n So did I.\n \n Eli closes the door, then sits back at the table.\n \n INT. PALLADIUM - CARNEGIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT\n \n Carnegie washes, looking at himself in the old dressing-room\n mirror. He sees Claudia enter the room in its dim reflection.\n \n CARNEGIE\n You took your time in there. How\n long does it take to deliver a\n plate of food and", " \n MARTHA\n Are you sure you won't stay?\n \n ELI\n Yes. Thank you again for the tea.\n \n Eli stares George down. Reluctantly, George steps aside. Eli\n opens the door and escorts Solara outside.\n \n EXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n \n Eli and Solara emerge into the sunlight. Walk down the garden\n path. And FREEZE IN THEIR TRACKS.\n \n THE ARMED VEHIC", "\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Please watch over her as you\n watched over me.\n \n MONTAGE as Solara walks back along Fisherman's Wharf...\n through the San Francisco rubble... across the Golden Gate\n bridge...\n \n ELI (V.O.)\n Thank you for allowing me finally\n to rest. I'm so very tired. The\n time of my departure is at hand and\n now I surrender my soul into your\n care, at", ", their bullets whipping past on either side of him.\n \n 61.\n \n \n In one swift motion Eli raises the shotgun and FIRES. Three\n shots in quick succession. And then there is silence. Smoke\n wisps from the shotgun's sawn-off barrel.\n \n The three gunmen LIE DEAD IN THE STREET. One hit square in\n the chest. The other two each have maybe one half of their\n heads remaining.\n \n Eli looks around. He'", "of the besieged house. She runs from the vehicle to\n where ELI'S SWORD lies in the dirt and grabs it up.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DUSK\n \n Solara races down the road in the car, pedal to the metal.\n \n SOLARA\n Come on, come on...\n \n Eventually, she sees him. At first just a dot on the horizon.\n But unmistakably Eli. By now, she'd know him anywhere.\n \n Suddenly the engine", "ara\n against the wall. She sobs, terrified. Eli levels the shotgun\n at Carnegie's head.\n \n ELI\n Let her go.\n \n 62.\n \n \n CARNEGIE\n That cannon of yours casts a pretty\n wide net. I don't reckon you can\n hit me without hitting her.\n \n ELI\n I reckon you're right.\n \n He holsters the shotgun", "desperately at him.\n \n Eli struggles violently with the cat, wrestling it to the\n ground and grabbing up a HUNK OF FALLEN BRANCH. He holds the\n writhing animal down and CLUBS IT until it lays still.\n \n He sits back, breathing harder than the dustmask will allow.\n He yanks it down, revealing the dirty, unshaven face beneath.\n Impossible to tell his age, but certainly not a young man.\n \n For a moment he just sits there. Then bundles up the", "with dirt. The best burial they are going to get.\n \n Eli stands before them, head bowed in prayer. He speaks\n quietly and quickly, a speech he has given many times.\n \n 12.\n \n \n ELI\n God, the father of mercies, through\n the death and resurrection of his\n son has reconciled the world to\n himself and sent the holy spirit\n among us for the forgiveness of\n sins.\n \n The young woman", ", eyes wide, frozen\n in shock. His fingers go limp, dropping the bottle.\n \n He slides off the sword and collapses to the floor, dead.\n \n Eli wipes the sword clean and sheathes it. Looks around at\n the bloodied, fallen bodies. Then back at Solara.\n \n ELI\n I'm sorry for all the mess.\n \n As he turns and heads toward the door:\n \n CARNEGIE (O.S.)\n Hold it right there.", "to pick up his sword, but Redridge puts his boot on it.\n \n REDRIDGE\n No weapons.\n \n Eli still has a half-dozen guns trained on him. He turns and\n walks away, toward the road. As he passes Solara:\n \n 99.\n \n \n ELI\n I told you we'd both live. Now do\n you have faith?\n \n A tear runs down Solara's cheek as she watches him walk away.\n", "Eli can sense her sadness.\n \n ELI\n Are you hungry?\n \n SOLARA\n I guess a little.\n \n ELI\n There's some food on the table over\n there. Let's eat.\n \n She walks over to where the dinner tray is covered by a small\n cloth. She whips it away - to reveal ELI'S RAT nibbling on a\n piece of cheese. Solara SHRIEKS and backs away.\n \n The", "dead cat\n and returns to the mangled tree stump. Folds away his ghillie\n suit into a nearby RUCKSACK which he hauls up onto his back.\n \n A canteen dangles from the backpack, a SHOTGUN strapped to\n its side. Eli reaches down for his final possession - an old\n SAMURAI SWORD in a scabbard which he slings across his back.\n \n He gazes up at the sky. A snowflake drifts down and lands on\n his cheek. He reaches up", "\n \n Eli and Solara are shoved out of the house at gunpoint and\n marched past the torn perimeter fence to the vehicles.\n \n Eli has been stripped of his weapons and backpack. Redridge\n faces him and points a pistol at his head.\n \n REDRIDGE\n Where's the book?\n \n BEAT. Eli doesn't answer. Redridge cocks the pistol.\n \n REDRIDGE\n I ain't playing.\n \n Redridge stares him", "The assembled residents GASP at this defiant display.\n \n 64.\n \n \n Eli sheathes his sword and takes Solara by the hand again.\n \n ELI\n Now we can go.\n \n CRANE UP over the main street as they both head out of town.\n \n EXT. ROAD - DAY\n \n The town barely visible on the distant horizon behind Eli and\n Solara. Eli walks as he always has, his pace steady and slow.\n Still,", "go back inside, leaving Eli and Solara\n gazing at the little graveyard.\n \n ELI\n We have to get out of here.\n \n SOLARA\n They look so sweet... I would never\n have believed they were killers.\n \n ELI\n They're worse than that.\n \n SOLARA\n What?\n \n ELI\n They didn't just kill these people.\n (BEAT)\n They", "it's true. Nowadays it's\n not the same. If you're sick or\n you're weak or you're old you won't\n last long out on the road.\n \n SOLARA\n So how come you have?\n \n BEAT. Eli thinks. Should he or shouldn't he?\n \n ELI\n Can I read you something?\n \n SOLARA\n Wait. You can read?\n \n Eli pulls the book from" ] ]

[ "Who oversees the rebuilt town?", "Who owns the store?", "Who is Carnegie's mistress?", "What disability does Claudia have?", "What does Eli have the last remaining copy of ?", "Who does Eli trap in the cave?", "Who do Eli and Solara have tea with?", "Where was the group that Eli was trying to find?", "Why couldn't Carnegie read the bible?", "Who oversees the town that Eli arrives in?", "What was Carnegie dreaming of controlling the people with?", "What happens when Eli surrenders the Bible?", "Why did the Engineer order Claudia to read the Bible?", "What led Eli to the Bible?", "What is the name of Claudia's daughter?", "Who is Claudia?", "Who initially found Eli's Bible?", "What did Carnegie order Solara to do to Eli?", "What is Carnegie searching for?", "Where are the group of people who are trying to save the arts?", "How did Eli find the Bible?", "What is the title of the item being sought?", "What lie does Claudia tell?", "Who first finds what Eli is protecting?", "How do Claudia and Eli meet?", "What is unusual about the locked Bible?", "When does Eli die?" ]

[ [ "Carnegie", "Carnegie" ], [ "The enigineer", "The Engineer" ], [ "Claudia", "Claudia" ], [ "Blindness", "she is blind" ], [ "The Bible", "the King James Bible" ], [ "Solara", "Solara" ], [ "George and Martha", "George and Martha" ], [ "Alcatraz", "Alcatraz island" ], [ "It was in Braille", "because it was in Braille" ], [ "Carnegie", "Carnegie" ], [ "The Bible", "The power of a book - the Bible" ], [ "Carnegie shoots Eli and leaves him for dead.", "Carnegie shoots him and leaves him for dead " ], [ "It was in Braille.", "Because the Engineer was unable to read the Bible in Braille." ], [ "A voice in his head.", "A voice in his head." ], [ "Solara", "Solara" ], [ "Carnegie's blind mistress.", "Carnegie's mistress who is blind" ], [ "Solara", "Solara" ], [ "Seduce him.", "Seduce him" ], [ "A book.", "a Bible" ], [ "On Alcatraz Island.", "Alcatraz" ], [ "A voice in his head guided him to its location.", "led by a voice in his head" ], [ "The Bible.", "The Bible" ], [ "She says she can't remember how to read Braille.", "that she cannot remember how to read Braille" ], [ "Claudia.", "Solara" ], [ "Claudia was forced by Carnegie to entice Eli using sex.", "She gives him food." ], [ "It is written in Braille.", "it's in Braille" ], [ "After he is done communicating the Bible in its entirety.", "After he has recited the entire Bible." ] ]

[ [ "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "Spanish but in French are the challenges given; the town is in the hands of\nthe French; it is under martial law. But now an officer passes down a\ncertain garden, a Spaniard disguised as a French officer; from the balcony\nthe family--one of the most noble and oldest families Spain can boast of, a\nthousand years, long before the conquest of the Moors--watches him. Well\nthen\"--Villiers sweeps with a white feminine hand the long hair that is\nfalling over his face--he has half forgotten,", "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "it is\noften necessary to confide. All we saw, heard, read, or felt was the\nsubject of mutual confidences: the transitory emotion that a flush of\ncolour and a bit of perspective awakens, the blue tints that the sunsetting\nlends to a white dress, or the eternal verities, death and love. But,\nalthough I tested every fibre of thought and analysed every motive, I was\nvery sincere in my friendship, and very loyal in my admiration. Nor did my\nadmiration wane when I discovered that Marshall was", "and unconditionally. He hesitated, however,\nwhen I asked to be taken as a private pupil, but he wrote out the address\nof a studio where he gave instruction every Tuesday morning. This was even\nmore to my taste, for I had an instinctive liking for Frenchmen, and was\nanxious to see as much of them as possible.\n\nThe studio was perched high up in the Passage des Panoramas. There I found\nM. Julien, a typical meridional--the large stomach, the dark eyes, crafty\nand watchful; the seduct", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "at once endearingly intimate with. This announces feminine\ndepravities in my affections. I am feminine, morbid, perverse. But above\nall perverse, almost everything perverse interests, fascinates me.\nWordsworth is the only simple-minded man I ever loved, if that great\naustere mind, chill even as the Cumberland year, can be called simple. But\nHugo is not perverse, nor even personal. Reading him was like being in\nchurch with a strident-voiced preacher shouting from out of a ter", "I did love, I did believe. Gautier destroyed these illusions. He taught\nme that our boasted progress is but a pitfall into which the race is\nfalling, and I learned that the correction of form is the highest ideal,\nand I accepted the plain, simple conscience of the pagan world as the\nperfect solution of the problem that had vexed me so long; I cried, \"ave\"\nto it all: lust, cruelty, slavery, and I would have held down my thumbs in\nthe Colosseum that a hundred gladiators might die and wash", "\n\n\"_Parlons d'autre chose: sur la question d'art on ne s'entend jamais._\"\n\nWhen we were excited Marshall and I always dropped into French.\n\n\"And now tell me,\" he said, \"about this duel.\"\n\nI could not bring myself to admit, even to Marshall, that I was willing to\nshoot a man for the sake of the notoriety it would bring me, not because I\nfeared in him any revolt of conscience, but because I dreaded his sneers;\nhe was known to all Paris, I was", "hôte_ for the last\nthirty years--he is talkative, vain, foolish, and authoritative. The clean,\nneatly-dressed old gentleman who sits by him, looking so much like a French\ngentleman, has spent a great part of his life in Spain. With that piece of\nnews, and its subsequent developments, your acquaintance with him begins\nand ends; the eyes, the fan, the mantilla, how it began, how it was broken\noff, and how it began again. Opposite sits another French gentleman, with\nbeard and", "is poured into them without\nfriction or stoppage. This book is a record of my mental digestions; but it\nwould take another series of confessions to tell of the dinners I have\neaten, the champagne I have drunk! and the suppers! seven dozen of oysters,\npâté-de-foie-gras, heaps of truffles, salad, and then a walk home in the\nearly morning, a few philosophical reflections suggested by the appearance\nof a belated street-sweeper, then sleep, quiet and", "of in the daily papers, but the real French academy, the\n_café_. The \"Nouvelle Athènes\" is a _café_ on the Place Pigale.\nAh! the morning idlenesses and the long evenings when life was but a summer\nillusion, the grey moonlights on the Place where we used to stand on the\npavements, the shutters clanging up behind us, loath to separate, thinking\nof what we had left said, and how much better we might have enforced our\narguments. Dead and scattered", "ively mendacious manner, the sensual mind. We made\nfriends at once--he consciously making use of me, I unconsciously making\nuse of him. To him my forty francs, a month's subscription, were a godsend,\nnor were my invitations to dinner and to the theatre to be disdained. I was\ncurious, odd, quaint. To be sure, it was a little tiresome to have to put\nup with a talkative person, whose knowledge of the French language had been\nacquired in three months, but the dinners were good.", "reveal, under French influences. Something of the same sort had\nbeen happening in France, and the English rebels found exemplars of revolt\nready to their need. These French rebels were of all sorts, and it was\nnaturally the most extreme that attracted the admiration of the English\nmalcontents. Chief among these were Gautier and Baudelaire.\n\nGautier had written in \"Mademoiselle de Maupin\" a lyrical exaltation of the\njoys of the flesh: he had eloquently and unreservedly pronounced the\nf", "learnt to feel that I wanted to live alone, and had moved away into the\nLatin quarter, whither I made occasional expeditions. I accompanied him\nonce to the old haunts, but various terms of penal servitude had scattered\nour friends, and I could not interest myself in the new. Nor did Marshall\nhimself interest me as he had once done. To my eager taste, he had grown\njust a little trite. My affection for him was as deep and sincere as ever;\nwere I to meet him now I would grasp his hand and hail him with firm, loyal\nfriend", "No doubt Julien\nreasoned so; I did not reason at all. I felt this crafty, clever man of the\nworld was necessary to me. I had never met such a man before, and all my\ncuriosity was awake. He spoke of art and literature, of the world and the\nflesh; he told me of the books he had read, he narrated thrilling incidents\nin his own life; and the moral reflections with which he sprinkled his\nconversation I thought very striking. Like every young man of twenty, I was\non the look-out for something to", "as complete and definitive.\nThe work is dedicated to Mallarmé, \"Père et seigneur des ors, des\npierreries, et des poissons,\" and other works are to follow:--the six tomes\nof \"Légendes de Rêves et de Sangs,\" the innumerable tomes of \"La Glose,\"\nand the single tome of \"La Loi.\"\n\nAnd that man Gustave Kahn, who takes the French language as a violin, and\nlets the bow of his emotion run at wild", "beings, had spent in\nFrance, not among English residents, but among that which is the\nquintessence of the nation; I, not an indifferent spectator, but an\nenthusiast, striving heart and soul to identify himself with his\nenvironment, to shake himself free from race and language and to recreate\nhimself as it were in the womb of a new nationality, assuming its ideals,\nits morals, and its modes of thought, and I had succeeded strangely well,\nand when I returned home England was a new country to me; I had," ], [ "I did love, I did believe. Gautier destroyed these illusions. He taught\nme that our boasted progress is but a pitfall into which the race is\nfalling, and I learned that the correction of form is the highest ideal,\nand I accepted the plain, simple conscience of the pagan world as the\nperfect solution of the problem that had vexed me so long; I cried, \"ave\"\nto it all: lust, cruelty, slavery, and I would have held down my thumbs in\nthe Colosseum that a hundred gladiators might die and wash", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "it is\noften necessary to confide. All we saw, heard, read, or felt was the\nsubject of mutual confidences: the transitory emotion that a flush of\ncolour and a bit of perspective awakens, the blue tints that the sunsetting\nlends to a white dress, or the eternal verities, death and love. But,\nalthough I tested every fibre of thought and analysed every motive, I was\nvery sincere in my friendship, and very loyal in my admiration. Nor did my\nadmiration wane when I discovered that Marshall was", "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "clearly understood that the lyrical quality was to be for ever\nbanished; there were to be no harps and lutes in our heaven, only drums;\nand the preservation of all the essentials of poetry, by the simple\nenumeration of the utensils to be found in a back kitchen, did, I could not\nhelp thinking (here it becomes necessary to whisper), sound not unlike\nrigmarole. I waited for the master to speak. He had declared that the\nRepublic would fall if it did not become instantly naturalistic; he would\nnot, he could not pass over", "say you would sell the souls you don't believe in, or\ndo believe in, for notoriety. I have known you attend funerals for the sake\nof seeing your miserable names in the paper. You, hypocritical reader, who\nare now turning up your eyes and murmuring \"horrid young man\"--examine your\nweakly heart, and see what divides us; I am not ashamed of my appetites, I\nproclaim them, what is more I gratify them; you're silent, you refrain, and\nyou dress up natural sins in", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "worth a poem, but it\nwould be quite too silly to talk about belief or unbelief; Christ in wood\nor plaster we have heard too much of, but Christ in painted glass amid\ncrosiers and Latin terminations, is an amusing subject for poetry. And\nstrangely enough, a withdrawing from all commerce with virtue and vice is,\nit would seem, a licentiousness more curiously subtle and penetrating than\nany other; and the licentiousness of the verse is equal to that of the\nemotion; every natural instinct of the language is violated", "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "and follies. But it did contain\na liberating idea--the idea that human nature is a subject to be dealt\nwith, not to be concealed and lied about. And, among others, George Moore\nwas set free--set free to write some of the sincerest fiction in our\nlanguage.\n\nThese \"Confessions\" reveal him in the process of revaluing the values of\nlife and art for himself. It was not an easy or a painless process.\nDestined for the army, because he wasn't apparently clever enough to go in\nfor the church or the law", "we sometimes possess and exercise\nunconsciously, and sometimes do not possess?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nAnd now, hypocritical reader, I will answer the questions which have been\nagitating you this long while, which you have asked at every stage of this\nlong narrative of a sinful life. Shake not your head, lift not your finger,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader; you can deceive me in nothing. I know the\nbaseness and unworthiness of your soul as I know the baseness and\nunworthiness of my own.", "*\n\nGood heavens! and the world still believes in education, in teaching people\nthe \"grammar of art.\" Education is fatal to any one with a spark of\nartistic feeling. Education should be confined to clerks, and even them it\ndrives to drink. Will the world learn that we never learn anything that we\ndid not know before? The artist, the poet, painter, musician, and novelist\ngo straight to the food they want, guided by an unerring and ineffable\ninstinct; to teach them is to destroy the nerve of the artistic instinct,\n", ".\n\n Les paons out dressé la rampe occellée\n Pour la descente de ses yeux vers le tapis\n De choses et de sens\n Qui va vers l'horizon, parure vemiculée\n De son corps alangui\n En âme se tapit\n Le flou désir molli de récits et d'encens.\n\nI laughed at these verbal eccentricities, but they were not without their\neffect, and that effect was", "No doubt Julien\nreasoned so; I did not reason at all. I felt this crafty, clever man of the\nworld was necessary to me. I had never met such a man before, and all my\ncuriosity was awake. He spoke of art and literature, of the world and the\nflesh; he told me of the books he had read, he narrated thrilling incidents\nin his own life; and the moral reflections with which he sprinkled his\nconversation I thought very striking. Like every young man of twenty, I was\non the look-out for something to", "was bright, and he\nunderstood with strange ease all that was told him, and was able to put\ninto immediate practice the methods of work inculcated by the professors.\nIn fact, he showed himself singularly capable of education; little could be\ndrawn out, but a great deal could be put in (using the word in its modern,\nnot in its original sense). He showed himself intensely anxious to learn\nand to accept all that was said: the ideas and feelings of others ran into\nhim like water into a bottle whose neck is suddenly stooped below the\nsurface of the", "the\nold art, which is poetry. First symbol: a house in which there is a\nfuneral, the pall extends over the furniture. The house is poetry, poetry\nis dead. Second symbol: \"_notre vieux grimoire_,\" _grimoire_ is the\nparchment, parchment is used for writing, therefore, _grimoire_ is the\nsymbol for literature, \"_d'où s'exaltent les milliers_,\" thousands of\nwhat? of letters of course. We have heard a great deal in England of\nBrowning obscurity", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "and housebreakers; on the following evening we were\ndining with a duchess or a princess in the Champs Elysées. And we prided\nourselves vastly on our versatility in using with equal facility the\nlanguage of the \"fence's\" parlour, and that of the literary salon; on being\nable to appear as much at home in one as in the other. Delighted at our\nprowess, we often whispered, \"The princess, I swear, would not believe her\neyes if she saw us now;\" and then" ], [ "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "and follies. But it did contain\na liberating idea--the idea that human nature is a subject to be dealt\nwith, not to be concealed and lied about. And, among others, George Moore\nwas set free--set free to write some of the sincerest fiction in our\nlanguage.\n\nThese \"Confessions\" reveal him in the process of revaluing the values of\nlife and art for himself. It was not an easy or a painless process.\nDestined for the army, because he wasn't apparently clever enough to go in\nfor the church or the law", "it is\noften necessary to confide. All we saw, heard, read, or felt was the\nsubject of mutual confidences: the transitory emotion that a flush of\ncolour and a bit of perspective awakens, the blue tints that the sunsetting\nlends to a white dress, or the eternal verities, death and love. But,\nalthough I tested every fibre of thought and analysed every motive, I was\nvery sincere in my friendship, and very loyal in my admiration. Nor did my\nadmiration wane when I discovered that Marshall was", "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "I did love, I did believe. Gautier destroyed these illusions. He taught\nme that our boasted progress is but a pitfall into which the race is\nfalling, and I learned that the correction of form is the highest ideal,\nand I accepted the plain, simple conscience of the pagan world as the\nperfect solution of the problem that had vexed me so long; I cried, \"ave\"\nto it all: lust, cruelty, slavery, and I would have held down my thumbs in\nthe Colosseum that a hundred gladiators might die and wash", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "hideous garments of shame, you would sell your\nwretched soul for what I would not give the parings of my finger-nails\nfor--paragraphs in a society paper. I am ashamed of nothing I have done,\nespecially my sins, and I boldly confess that I then desired notoriety. I\nwalked along the streets mad; I turned upon myself like a tiger. \"Am I\ngoing to fail again as I have failed before?\" I asked myself. \"Will my\nnovel prove as abortive as my paintings, my poetry, my journalism?\" I", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "been a Pharaoh, an ostler, a pimp, an archbishop, and that in the\nfulfilment of the duties of each a certain measure of success would have\nbeen mine. I have felt the goad of many impulses, I have hunted many a\ntrail; when one scent failed another was taken up, and pursued with the\npertinacity of an instinct, rather than the fervour of a reasoned\nconviction. Sometimes, it is true, there came moments of weariness, of\ndespondency, but they were not enduring", "\nvow I have kept.\n\nSurrender brought relief, but my life seemed at an end. I looked upon a\nblank space of years desolate as a grey and sailless sea. \"What shall I\ndo?\" I asked myself, and my heart was weary and hopeless. Literature? my\nheart did not answer the question at once. I was too broken and overcome by\nthe shock of failure; failure precise and stern, admitting of no\nequivocation. I strove to read: but it was impossible to sit at home almost\nwithin earshot of the studio, and", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "we sometimes possess and exercise\nunconsciously, and sometimes do not possess?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nAnd now, hypocritical reader, I will answer the questions which have been\nagitating you this long while, which you have asked at every stage of this\nlong narrative of a sinful life. Shake not your head, lift not your finger,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader; you can deceive me in nothing. I know the\nbaseness and unworthiness of your soul as I know the baseness and\nunworthiness of my own.", "say you would sell the souls you don't believe in, or\ndo believe in, for notoriety. I have known you attend funerals for the sake\nof seeing your miserable names in the paper. You, hypocritical reader, who\nare now turning up your eyes and murmuring \"horrid young man\"--examine your\nweakly heart, and see what divides us; I am not ashamed of my appetites, I\nproclaim them, what is more I gratify them; you're silent, you refrain, and\nyou dress up natural sins in", "is poured into them without\nfriction or stoppage. This book is a record of my mental digestions; but it\nwould take another series of confessions to tell of the dinners I have\neaten, the champagne I have drunk! and the suppers! seven dozen of oysters,\npâté-de-foie-gras, heaps of truffles, salad, and then a walk home in the\nearly morning, a few philosophical reflections suggested by the appearance\nof a belated street-sweeper, then sleep, quiet and", "er. Cabaner! since the beginning there\nhave been, till the end of time there shall be Cabaners; and they shall\nlive miserably and they shall die miserable, and shall be forgotten; and\nthere shall never arise a novelist great enough to make live in art that\neternal spirit of devotion, disinterestedness, and aspiration, which in\neach generation incarnates itself in one heroic soul. Better than those who\nstepped to opulence and fame upon thee fallen thou wert; better,\nloftier-minded, purer; thy", "ignorantly,\nsavagely, for two thousand years, but nevertheless nearing every day the\nend--the end that Thou in Thy divine intelligence foresaw, that finds its\nvoice to-day (enormous though the antithesis may be, I will say it) in the\n_Pall Mall Gazette_. What fate has been like Thine? Betrayed by Judas\nin the garden, denied by Peter before the cock crew, crucified between\nthieves, and mourned for by a harlot, and then sent bound and bare, nothing\nchanged", "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "deal that you probably don't;\nadmit that your mouth waters when you think of rich and various pleasures\nthat fell to my share in happy, delightful Paris; admit that if this book\nhad been an account of the pious books I had read, the churches I had been\nto, and the good works I had done, that you would not have bought it or\nborrowed it. Hypocritical reader, think, had you had courage, health, and\nmoney to lead a fast life, would you not have done so? You don't know, no\nmore" ], [ "and led me captive; this plain scorn of a world\nas exemplified in lacerated saints and a crucified Redeemer opened up to me\nillimitable prospects of fresh beliefs, and therefore new joys in things\nand new revolts against all that had come to form part and parcel of the\ncommonalty of mankind. Till now I had not even remotely suspected that a\ndeification of flesh and fleshly desire was possible, Shelley's teaching\nhad been, while accepting the body, to dream of the soul as a star, and so\n", "and complex as mine. Ah, she is not for me, I am not fit for her, I\nam too sullied for her lips.... Were I to win her could I be dutiful,\ntrue?...\n\n\"Young men, young men whom I love, dear ones who have rejoiced with me, not\nthe least of our pleasures is the virtuous woman; after excesses there is\nreaction, all things are good in nature, and they are foolish young men who\nthink that sin alone should be sought for. The feast is over for me, I have\neaten and", "harlot! Even the\ngreat pagan world of marble and pomp and lust and cruelty, that my soul\ngoes out to and hails as the grandest, has not so sublime a contrast to\nshow us as this.\n\nCome to me, ye who are weak. The Word went forth, the terrible disastrous\nWord, and before it fell the ancient gods, and the vices that they\nrepresent, and which I revere, are outcast now in the world of men; the\nWord went forth, and the world interpreted the Word, blindly,", "say you would sell the souls you don't believe in, or\ndo believe in, for notoriety. I have known you attend funerals for the sake\nof seeing your miserable names in the paper. You, hypocritical reader, who\nare now turning up your eyes and murmuring \"horrid young man\"--examine your\nweakly heart, and see what divides us; I am not ashamed of my appetites, I\nproclaim them, what is more I gratify them; you're silent, you refrain, and\nyou dress up natural sins in", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "preserve our ideal; but now suddenly I saw, with delightful clearness and\nwith intoxicating conviction, that by looking without shame and accepting\nwith love the flesh, I might raise it to as high a place and within as\ndivine a light as even the soul had been set in. The ages were as an\naureole, and I stood as if enchanted before the noble nakedness of the\nelder gods: not the infamous nudity that sex has preserved in this modern\nworld, but the clean pagan nude,--a love of life and beauty, the broad", "fair\nbreast of a boy, the long flanks, the head thrown back; the bold fearless\ngaze of Venus is lovelier than the lowered glance of the Virgin, and I\ncried with my master that the blood that flowed upon Mount Calvary \"_ne\nm'a jamais baigné dans ses flots._\"\n\nI will not turn to the book to find the exact words of this sublime\nvindication, for ten years I have not read the Word that has become so\ninexpressibly a part of me; and shall I not refr", "\nis easy to imagine: there was the youth who wandered by night into a\nwitches' sabbath, and was disputed for by the witches, young and old. There\nwas the light o' love who went into the desert to tempt the holy man; but\nhe died as he yielded, and the arms stiffening by some miracle to iron-like\nrigidity, she was unable to free herself, and died of starvation, as her\nbondage loosened in decay. And I had increased my difficulties by adopting\nas part of my task the introduction of", "in me immeasurably better than\nit, and savagely and sullenly I desired to trample upon them, to rub their\nnoses in their feebleness; but oh, it was I who was feeble! and full of\nvisions of a wider world I raged up and down the cold walls of impassable\nmental limitations. Above me there was a barred window, and, but for my\nmanacles, I would have sprung at it and torn it with my teeth. Then passion\nwas so strong in me that I could scarce refrain from", "mud of naturalism, and the faint and sickly surf of the\nsymbolists. Thinking of him, I could not forget that it is the spirit and\nnot the flesh that is eternal; that, as it was thought that in the first\ninstance gave man speech, so to the end it shall still be thought that\nshall make speech beautiful and rememberable. The grandeur and sublimity of\nBalzac's thoughts seem to me to rise to the loftiest heights, and his range\nis limitless; there is no passion he has not touched, and what is more\nmarv", "as upon others, are not\nnoble, but the human is very despicable vermin and only tolerable when it\ntends to the brute, and away from the evangelical. I will tell you an\nanecdote which is in itself an admirable illustration of my craving for\nnotoriety; and my anecdote will serve a double purpose,--it will bring me\nsome of the notoriety of which I am so desirous, for you, dear, exquisitely\nhypocritical reader, will at once cry, \"Shame", "we sometimes possess and exercise\nunconsciously, and sometimes do not possess?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nAnd now, hypocritical reader, I will answer the questions which have been\nagitating you this long while, which you have asked at every stage of this\nlong narrative of a sinful life. Shake not your head, lift not your finger,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader; you can deceive me in nothing. I know the\nbaseness and unworthiness of your soul as I know the baseness and\nunworthiness of my own.", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "worth a poem, but it\nwould be quite too silly to talk about belief or unbelief; Christ in wood\nor plaster we have heard too much of, but Christ in painted glass amid\ncrosiers and Latin terminations, is an amusing subject for poetry. And\nstrangely enough, a withdrawing from all commerce with virtue and vice is,\nit would seem, a licentiousness more curiously subtle and penetrating than\nany other; and the licentiousness of the verse is equal to that of the\nemotion; every natural instinct of the language is violated", "I did love, I did believe. Gautier destroyed these illusions. He taught\nme that our boasted progress is but a pitfall into which the race is\nfalling, and I learned that the correction of form is the highest ideal,\nand I accepted the plain, simple conscience of the pagan world as the\nperfect solution of the problem that had vexed me so long; I cried, \"ave\"\nto it all: lust, cruelty, slavery, and I would have held down my thumbs in\nthe Colosseum that a hundred gladiators might die and wash", "will look back on the valley I\nlingered in. Do I regret? I neither repent nor do I regret; and a fool and\na weakling I should he if I did. I know the worth and the rarity of more\nthan fifteen years of systematic enjoyment. Nature provided me with as\nperfect a digestive apparatus, mental and physical, as she ever turned out\nof her workshop; my stomach and brain are set in the most perfect equipoise\npossible to conceive, and up and down they went and still go with measured\nmovement, absorbing and assimilating all that", "of the sombre\nmediocrity, towards which Thou hast drifted for two thousand years, a flag;\nand in which Thou shalt find Thy doom as I mine, I, who will not adore Thee\nand cannot curse Thee now. For verily Thy life and Thy fate has been\ngreater, stranger and more Divine than any man's has been. The chosen\npeople, the garden, the betrayal, the crucifixion, and the beautiful story,\nnot of Mary, but of Magdalen. The God descending to the", "retched creatures will find moral support in England; they will\nfind pity!\n\nPity, that most vile of all vile virtues, has never been known to me. The\ngreat pagan world I love knew it not. Now the world proposes to interrupt\nthe terrible austere laws of nature which ordain that the weak shall be\ntrampled upon, shall be ground into death and dust, that the strong shall\nbe really strong,--that the strong shall be glorious, sublime. A little\nbourgeois comfort, a little bourgeois sense of right", ", and he\nis tempted with a foolish little illusion--white dresses, water colour\ndrawings, and popular music. He dreams of Pleasure, and he is offered Duty;\nfor do not think that that sylph-like waist does not suggest to him a yard\nof apron string, cries of children, and that most odious word, \"Papa.\" A\nyoung man of refined mind can look through the glass of the years.\n\nHe has sat in the stalls, opera-glass in hand; he has met women of thirty\nat balls, and has", "to show us how he may rise, as if on\nstepping stones of his dead self, to higher things, etc. You sighed, O\nhypocritical friend, and you threw the magazine on the wicker table, where\nsuch things lie, and you murmured something about leaving the world a\nlittle better than you found it, and you went down to dinner and lost\nconsciousness of the world in the animal enjoyment of your stomach. I hold\nout my hand to you, I embrace you, you are my brother, and I say, undeceive\nyourself, you will leave" ], [ "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "wearied of talking to her of her hopes and ambitions, of the young\nman she admired. She used to ask me about my novel.\n\nPoor Miss L.! Where is she? I do not know, but I shall not forget the time\nwhen I used to listen for her footstep on the midnight stairs. Often I was\ntoo despondent, when my troubles lay too heavily and darkly upon me, I let\nher go up to her garret without a word. Despondent days and nights when I\ncried, Shall I never pass from this lodging? shall", "bid each other good-night, she has gone up the creaky\nstaircase. I have returned to my room, littered with MS. and queer\npublications; the night is hot and heavy, but now a wind is blowing from\nthe river. I am listless and lonely.... I open a book, the first book that\ncomes to hand ... it is _Le Journal des Goncourts_, p. 358, the end of\na chapter:--\n\n\"_It is really curious that it should be the four men the most free from\nall taint of", "_marquise_, he answered with an indifferent \"Do you really think so?\"\nand proceeded to drag me away from my glitter of satin to the dinginess of\nprint dresses. It was more than alienation, it was almost separation; but\nhe was still my friend, he was the man, and he always will be, to whom my\nyouth, with all its aspirations, was most closely united. So I turned to\nsay good-bye to him and to my past life. Rap--rap--rap!\n\n\"Who's there?\"\n\n\"I", ". This was intolerable. I\nbroke up my establishment. By so doing I involved my friend in grave and\ncruel difficulties; by this action I imperilled his future prospects. It\nwas a dastardly action; but his presence had grown unbearable; yes,\nunbearable in the fullest acceptation of the word, and in ridding myself of\nhim I felt as if a world of misery were being lifted from me.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nAfter three months spent in a sweet seaside resort, where unoccupied men\nand", "told my _concierge_ that\nI would return in a month, and I left all to be sold, brutally sold by\nauction, as the letter I read in the last chapter charmingly and touchingly\ndescribes.\n\nNot even to Marshall did I confide my foreboding that Paris would pass out\nof my life, that it would henceforth be with me a beautiful memory, but\nnever more a practical delight. He and I were no longer living together; we\nhad parted a second time, but this time without bitterness of any kind; he\nhad", "sister was almost more than he could bear, and the\nmother had to whisper, 'Remember your promise to your father, to your dead\nfather.' The mother laid her head on the block, but he could not strike.\n'Be not the first coward of our name, strike; remember your promise to us\nall,' and her head was struck off.\"\n\n\"And the son,\" the girl asks, \"what became of him?\"\n\n\"He never was seen, save at night, walking, a solitary man, beneath the\nwalls of his castle in Granada.\"\n\n\"And", "to show us how he may rise, as if on\nstepping stones of his dead self, to higher things, etc. You sighed, O\nhypocritical friend, and you threw the magazine on the wicker table, where\nsuch things lie, and you murmured something about leaving the world a\nlittle better than you found it, and you went down to dinner and lost\nconsciousness of the world in the animal enjoyment of your stomach. I hold\nout my hand to you, I embrace you, you are my brother, and I say, undeceive\nyourself, you will leave", "\nvow I have kept.\n\nSurrender brought relief, but my life seemed at an end. I looked upon a\nblank space of years desolate as a grey and sailless sea. \"What shall I\ndo?\" I asked myself, and my heart was weary and hopeless. Literature? my\nheart did not answer the question at once. I was too broken and overcome by\nthe shock of failure; failure precise and stern, admitting of no\nequivocation. I strove to read: but it was impossible to sit at home almost\nwithin earshot of the studio, and", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "some one calls him. He turns; I can see his white kid\ngloves; the air is as sugar with the odour of the gardenias; there is\nbrilliant light here; there is shadow in the further rooms; the women's\nfeet pass to and fro beneath the stiff skirts; I call for my hat and coat;\nI light a cigar; I stroll up Piccadilly ... a very pleasant evening; I have\nseen a good many people I knew; I have observed an attitude, and an\nearnestness of manner that proved that a heart was beating", "her sensations subtle; I suppose that was her\ncharm, subtleness. I never knew if she cared for me, I never knew if she\nhated her husband,--one never knew her,--I never knew how she would receive\nme. The last time I saw her ... that stupid American would take her\ndownstairs, no getting rid of him, and I was hiding behind one of the\npillars in the Rue de Rivoli, my hand on the cab door. However, she could\nnot blame me that time--and all the stories she used to invent of my", "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "rose,\nburdened with great weight of fringes and curtains, the python devoured a\nguinea pig, the last I gave him; the great white cat came to me. I said all\nthis must go, must henceforth be to me an abandoned dream, a something, not\nmore real than a summer meditation. So be it, and, as was characteristic of\nme, I broke with Paris suddenly, without warning anyone. I knew in my heart\nof hearts that I should never return, but no word was spoken, and I\ncontinued a pleasant delusion with myself; I", "I trudge home through\nNovember fogs, to eat a chop in a frouzy lodging-house. I studied the\nhorrible servant as one might an insect under a microscope. \"What an\nadmirable book she would make, but what will the end be? if I only knew the\nend!\" I had more and more difficulty in keeping the fat landlady at arm's\nlength, and the nasty child was well beaten one day for lingering about my\ndoor. I saw poor Miss L. nightly, on the stairs of this infamous house, and\nI never", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "the following: \"Am burying my\nfather; so soon as he is underground will come.\" Was there ever such\nluck?... He won't be here before the end of the week. These things demand\nthe utmost promptitude. Three or four days afterwards dreadful Emma told me\na gentleman was upstairs taking a bath. \"Holloa, Marshall, how are you? Had\na good crossing? Awful good of you to come.... The poor old gentleman went\noff quite suddenly, I suppose?\"\n\n\"Yes; found dead in his bed. He must have known he was dying" ], [ "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "as upon others, are not\nnoble, but the human is very despicable vermin and only tolerable when it\ntends to the brute, and away from the evangelical. I will tell you an\nanecdote which is in itself an admirable illustration of my craving for\nnotoriety; and my anecdote will serve a double purpose,--it will bring me\nsome of the notoriety of which I am so desirous, for you, dear, exquisitely\nhypocritical reader, will at once cry, \"Shame", "it is\noften necessary to confide. All we saw, heard, read, or felt was the\nsubject of mutual confidences: the transitory emotion that a flush of\ncolour and a bit of perspective awakens, the blue tints that the sunsetting\nlends to a white dress, or the eternal verities, death and love. But,\nalthough I tested every fibre of thought and analysed every motive, I was\nvery sincere in my friendship, and very loyal in my admiration. Nor did my\nadmiration wane when I discovered that Marshall was", "and follies. But it did contain\na liberating idea--the idea that human nature is a subject to be dealt\nwith, not to be concealed and lied about. And, among others, George Moore\nwas set free--set free to write some of the sincerest fiction in our\nlanguage.\n\nThese \"Confessions\" reveal him in the process of revaluing the values of\nlife and art for himself. It was not an easy or a painless process.\nDestined for the army, because he wasn't apparently clever enough to go in\nfor the church or the law", "refuge in it. Humanity is a pigsty, where liars, hypocrites, and the\nobscene in spirit congregate; it has been so since the great Jew conceived\nit, and it will be so till the end. Far better the blithe modern pagan in\nhis white tie and evening clothes, and his facile philosophy. He says, \"I\ndon't care how the poor live; my only regret is that they live at all;\" and\nhe gives the beggar a shilling.\n\nWe all want notoriety; our desires on this point,", "I did love, I did believe. Gautier destroyed these illusions. He taught\nme that our boasted progress is but a pitfall into which the race is\nfalling, and I learned that the correction of form is the highest ideal,\nand I accepted the plain, simple conscience of the pagan world as the\nperfect solution of the problem that had vexed me so long; I cried, \"ave\"\nto it all: lust, cruelty, slavery, and I would have held down my thumbs in\nthe Colosseum that a hundred gladiators might die and wash", "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "say you would sell the souls you don't believe in, or\ndo believe in, for notoriety. I have known you attend funerals for the sake\nof seeing your miserable names in the paper. You, hypocritical reader, who\nare now turning up your eyes and murmuring \"horrid young man\"--examine your\nweakly heart, and see what divides us; I am not ashamed of my appetites, I\nproclaim them, what is more I gratify them; you're silent, you refrain, and\nyou dress up natural sins in", "been a Pharaoh, an ostler, a pimp, an archbishop, and that in the\nfulfilment of the duties of each a certain measure of success would have\nbeen mine. I have felt the goad of many impulses, I have hunted many a\ntrail; when one scent failed another was taken up, and pursued with the\npertinacity of an instinct, rather than the fervour of a reasoned\nconviction. Sometimes, it is true, there came moments of weariness, of\ndespondency, but they were not enduring", "to show us how he may rise, as if on\nstepping stones of his dead self, to higher things, etc. You sighed, O\nhypocritical friend, and you threw the magazine on the wicker table, where\nsuch things lie, and you murmured something about leaving the world a\nlittle better than you found it, and you went down to dinner and lost\nconsciousness of the world in the animal enjoyment of your stomach. I hold\nout my hand to you, I embrace you, you are my brother, and I say, undeceive\nyourself, you will leave", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "and complex as mine. Ah, she is not for me, I am not fit for her, I\nam too sullied for her lips.... Were I to win her could I be dutiful,\ntrue?...\n\n\"Young men, young men whom I love, dear ones who have rejoiced with me, not\nthe least of our pleasures is the virtuous woman; after excesses there is\nreaction, all things are good in nature, and they are foolish young men who\nthink that sin alone should be sought for. The feast is over for me, I have\neaten and", "ues. If you are a good man you want a bad one\nto convert; if you are a bad man you want a bad one to go out on the spree\nwith. And you, my dear, my exquisite reader, place your hand upon your\nheart, tell the truth, remember this is a magical _tête-à-tête_ which\nwill happen never again in your life, admit that you feel just a little\ninterested in my wickedness, admit that if you ever thought you would like\nto know me that it is because I know a good", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "we sometimes possess and exercise\nunconsciously, and sometimes do not possess?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nAnd now, hypocritical reader, I will answer the questions which have been\nagitating you this long while, which you have asked at every stage of this\nlong narrative of a sinful life. Shake not your head, lift not your finger,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader; you can deceive me in nothing. I know the\nbaseness and unworthiness of your soul as I know the baseness and\nunworthiness of my own.", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "is poured into them without\nfriction or stoppage. This book is a record of my mental digestions; but it\nwould take another series of confessions to tell of the dinners I have\neaten, the champagne I have drunk! and the suppers! seven dozen of oysters,\npâté-de-foie-gras, heaps of truffles, salad, and then a walk home in the\nearly morning, a few philosophical reflections suggested by the appearance\nof a belated street-sweeper, then sleep, quiet and", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "\nlooked back upon my life,--mediocrity was branded about my life. \"Would it\nbe the same to the end?\" I asked myself a thousand times by day, and a\nthousand times by night. We all want notoriety, our desire for notoriety is\nhideous if you will, but it is less hideous when it is proclaimed from a\nbrazen tongue than when it hides its head in the cant of human\nhumanitarianism. Humanity be hanged! Self, and after self a friend; the\nrest may go to the devil; and", ": a word spoken, a book read, or\nyielding to the attraction of environment, I was soon off in another\ndirection, forgetful of past failures. Intricate, indeed, was the labyrinth\nof my desires; all lights were followed with the same ardour, all cries\nwere eagerly responded to: they came from the right, they came from the\nleft, from every side. But one cry was more persistent, and as the years\npassed I learned to follow it with increasing vigour, and my strayings grew\nfewer and the way wider." ], [ "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "was expelled\nwhen I was sixteen, for idleness and general worthlessness. I returned to a\nwild country home, where I found my father engaged in training racehorses.\nFor a nature of such intense vitality as mine, an ambition, an aspiration\nof some sort was necessary; and I now, as I have often done since, accepted\nthe first ideal to hand. In this instance it was the _stable_. I was\ngiven a hunter, I rode to hounds every week, I rode gallops every morning,\nI read the racing calendar, stud-", "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "learnt to feel that I wanted to live alone, and had moved away into the\nLatin quarter, whither I made occasional expeditions. I accompanied him\nonce to the old haunts, but various terms of penal servitude had scattered\nour friends, and I could not interest myself in the new. Nor did Marshall\nhimself interest me as he had once done. To my eager taste, he had grown\njust a little trite. My affection for him was as deep and sincere as ever;\nwere I to meet him now I would grasp his hand and hail him with firm, loyal\nfriend", "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "and follies. But it did contain\na liberating idea--the idea that human nature is a subject to be dealt\nwith, not to be concealed and lied about. And, among others, George Moore\nwas set free--set free to write some of the sincerest fiction in our\nlanguage.\n\nThese \"Confessions\" reveal him in the process of revaluing the values of\nlife and art for himself. It was not an easy or a painless process.\nDestined for the army, because he wasn't apparently clever enough to go in\nfor the church or the law", "jumping off the\ncounter, stamping my feet, and slapping my friends in the face, so tepid\nwere their enthusiasms, so thin did their understanding appear to me. The\nStraddlers seemed inclined for a moment to take the long creature very\nseriously, and in the office which I had marked down for my own I saw him\ninstalled as a genius.\n\nFortunately for my life and my sanity, my interests were, about this time,\nattracted into other ways--ways that led into London life, and were\nsuitable for me to tread", "nondescript who leaned his evening away against the\ncounter, and was supposed to know some one who knew Lord ----'s footman,\nand the great man often spoken of, but rarely seen--he who made \"a\ntwo-'undred pound book on the Derby\"; and the constant coming and going of\nthe cabmen--\"Half an ounce of shag, sir.\" I was then at a military tutor's\nin the Euston Road; for, in answer to my father's demand as to what\noccupation I intended to pursue, I had consented", "means were taken to protect ourselves against interlopers, one who had not\npassed the preliminary stage of straddling would occasionally slip through\nour defences. I remember one especially. It was a hot summer's day, we were\nall on the counter, our legs swinging, when an enormous young man entered.\nHe must have been six feet three in height. He was shown into Mr. B.'s\nroom, he asked him to read a MS., and he fled, looking very frightened.\n\"Wastepaper basket, wastepaper basket,\" we shouted when Mr. B.", "! The word rang in my\nears and gleamed in my eyes. France! All my senses sprang from sleep like a\ncrew when the man on the look-out cries, \"Land ahead!\" Instantly I knew I\nshould, that I must, go to France, that I would live there, that I would\nbecome as a Frenchman. I knew not when nor how, but I knew I should go to\nFrance....\n\nThen my father died, and I suddenly found myself heir to considerable\nproperty--some three or four thousands a year; and then I knew that I", "was\nfree to enjoy life as I pleased; no further trammels, no further need of\nbeing a soldier, of being anything but myself; eighteen, with life and\nFrance before me! But the spirit did not move me yet to leave home. I would\nfeel the pulse of life at home before I felt it abroad. I would hire a\nstudio. A studio--tapestries, smoke, models, conversations. But here it is\ndifficult not to convey a false impression. I fain would show my soul in\nthese pages, like a face in a pool of clear water", "as it\nwere, forgotten everything. Every aspect of street and suburban garden was\nnew to me; of the manner of life of Londoners I knew nothing. This sounds\nincredible, but it is so; I saw, but I could realise nothing. I went into a\ndrawing-room, but everything seemed far away--a dream, a presentment,\nnothing more; I was in touch with nothing; of the thoughts and feelings of\nthose I met I could understand nothing, nor could I sympathise with them:\nan Englishman was at that time as much out of my", "\ngenerally tea-things and jam-pots on the table. In a little while he\nbrought a little creature about five feet three to live with him, and when\nthe little creature and the long creature went out together, it was like\nDon Quixote and Sancho Panza setting forth in quest of adventures in the\nland of Strand. The little creature indulged in none of the loud, rasping\naffectation of humour that was so maddening in the long creature; the\nlittle creature was dry, hard, and sterile, and when he did join in", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "No doubt Julien\nreasoned so; I did not reason at all. I felt this crafty, clever man of the\nworld was necessary to me. I had never met such a man before, and all my\ncuriosity was awake. He spoke of art and literature, of the world and the\nflesh; he told me of the books he had read, he narrated thrilling incidents\nin his own life; and the moral reflections with which he sprinkled his\nconversation I thought very striking. Like every young man of twenty, I was\non the look-out for something to", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "without fear: \"My dreams were of naked\nyouths riding white horses through mountain passes, there were no clouds in\nmy dreams, or if there were any, they were clouds that had been cut out as\nif in cardboard with a pair of scissors.\"\n\nI had shaken off all belief in Christianity early in life, and had suffered\nmuch. Shelley had replaced faith by reason, but I still suffered: but here\nwas a new creed which proclaimed the divinity of the body, and for a long\ntime the reconstruction of all my theories of life on a purely pag", "was bright, and he\nunderstood with strange ease all that was told him, and was able to put\ninto immediate practice the methods of work inculcated by the professors.\nIn fact, he showed himself singularly capable of education; little could be\ndrawn out, but a great deal could be put in (using the word in its modern,\nnot in its original sense). He showed himself intensely anxious to learn\nand to accept all that was said: the ideas and feelings of others ran into\nhim like water into a bottle whose neck is suddenly stooped below the\nsurface of the" ], [ "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", "drawn over a bald skull. He explained,\nafter some hesitation, that I owed him a few thousands, and that the\naccounts were in his portmanteau. I suggested taking them to a solicitor to\nhave them examined. The solicitor advised me strongly to contest them. I\ndid not take the advice, but raised some money instead, and so the matter\nended so far as the immediate future was concerned. The years the most\nimpressionable, from twenty to thirty, when the senses and the mind are the\nwidest awake, I, the most impressionable of human", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "me a great and real inconvenience. French\nwit was in my brain, French sentiment was in my heart; of the English soul\nI knew nothing, and I could not remember old sympathies, it was like\nseeking forgotten words, and if I were writing a short story, I had to\nreturn in thought to Montmartre or the Champs Elysées for my characters.\nThat I should have forgotten so much in ten years seems incredible, and it\nwill be deemed impossible by many, but that is because few are aware of how\nlittle they know of the details", "as it\nwere, forgotten everything. Every aspect of street and suburban garden was\nnew to me; of the manner of life of Londoners I knew nothing. This sounds\nincredible, but it is so; I saw, but I could realise nothing. I went into a\ndrawing-room, but everything seemed far away--a dream, a presentment,\nnothing more; I was in touch with nothing; of the thoughts and feelings of\nthose I met I could understand nothing, nor could I sympathise with them:\nan Englishman was at that time as much out of my", "is poured into them without\nfriction or stoppage. This book is a record of my mental digestions; but it\nwould take another series of confessions to tell of the dinners I have\neaten, the champagne I have drunk! and the suppers! seven dozen of oysters,\npâté-de-foie-gras, heaps of truffles, salad, and then a walk home in the\nearly morning, a few philosophical reflections suggested by the appearance\nof a belated street-sweeper, then sleep, quiet and", "it is\noften necessary to confide. All we saw, heard, read, or felt was the\nsubject of mutual confidences: the transitory emotion that a flush of\ncolour and a bit of perspective awakens, the blue tints that the sunsetting\nlends to a white dress, or the eternal verities, death and love. But,\nalthough I tested every fibre of thought and analysed every motive, I was\nvery sincere in my friendship, and very loyal in my admiration. Nor did my\nadmiration wane when I discovered that Marshall was", "will look back on the valley I\nlingered in. Do I regret? I neither repent nor do I regret; and a fool and\na weakling I should he if I did. I know the worth and the rarity of more\nthan fifteen years of systematic enjoyment. Nature provided me with as\nperfect a digestive apparatus, mental and physical, as she ever turned out\nof her workshop; my stomach and brain are set in the most perfect equipoise\npossible to conceive, and up and down they went and still go with measured\nmovement, absorbing and assimilating all that", "\nvow I have kept.\n\nSurrender brought relief, but my life seemed at an end. I looked upon a\nblank space of years desolate as a grey and sailless sea. \"What shall I\ndo?\" I asked myself, and my heart was weary and hopeless. Literature? my\nheart did not answer the question at once. I was too broken and overcome by\nthe shock of failure; failure precise and stern, admitting of no\nequivocation. I strove to read: but it was impossible to sit at home almost\nwithin earshot of the studio, and", "I did love, I did believe. Gautier destroyed these illusions. He taught\nme that our boasted progress is but a pitfall into which the race is\nfalling, and I learned that the correction of form is the highest ideal,\nand I accepted the plain, simple conscience of the pagan world as the\nperfect solution of the problem that had vexed me so long; I cried, \"ave\"\nto it all: lust, cruelty, slavery, and I would have held down my thumbs in\nthe Colosseum that a hundred gladiators might die and wash", "--nervous feeling. I don't know ...\nperhaps.... She has lived her life ... yes, within certain limits she has\nlived her life. None of us do more than that. True. I remember the first\ntime I saw her. Sharp, little, and merry--a changeable little sprite. I\nthought she had ugly hands; so she has, and yet I forgot all about her\nhands before I had known her a month. It is now seven years ago. How time\npasses! I was very young then. What battles we have had, what", "means were taken to protect ourselves against interlopers, one who had not\npassed the preliminary stage of straddling would occasionally slip through\nour defences. I remember one especially. It was a hot summer's day, we were\nall on the counter, our legs swinging, when an enormous young man entered.\nHe must have been six feet three in height. He was shown into Mr. B.'s\nroom, he asked him to read a MS., and he fled, looking very frightened.\n\"Wastepaper basket, wastepaper basket,\" we shouted when Mr. B.", "we sometimes possess and exercise\nunconsciously, and sometimes do not possess?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nAnd now, hypocritical reader, I will answer the questions which have been\nagitating you this long while, which you have asked at every stage of this\nlong narrative of a sinful life. Shake not your head, lift not your finger,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader; you can deceive me in nothing. I know the\nbaseness and unworthiness of your soul as I know the baseness and\nunworthiness of my own.", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "this sphinx\nwill never throw herself from the rock into the clangour of the seagulls\nand waves; she will never divulge her secret; and if she is the woman and\nnot a woman of thirty, she has forgotten.\n\nThe young man shakes hands with the husband; he strives not to look\nembarrassed, and he talks of indifferent things--of how well he (the\nhusband) is looking, of his amusements, his projects; and then he (the\nyoung man of refined mind) tastes of that keen and", "it appeared more than a hundred years ago, and the Kings it\nannounces are all dead, and, lying on this antique carpet, my head leaned\nupon thy charitable knees, on the pale robe, oh! calm child, I will speak\nwith thee for hours; there are no fields, and the streets are empty, I will\nspeak to thee of our furniture.\n\n\"Thou art abstracted?\n\n\"(The spiders' webs are shivering above the lofty windows.)\"\n\n\nTo argue about these forgotten pages would be futile. We", "with all the memories of defeat still\nringing their knells in my heart. Marshall's success clamoured loudly from\nwithout; every day, almost every hour of the day, I heard of the medals\nwhich he would carry off; of what Lefevre thought of his drawing this week,\nof Boulanger's opinion of his talent. I do not wish to excuse my conduct,\nbut I cannot help saying that Marshall showed me neither consideration nor\npity; he did not even seem to understand that I was suffering, that my\nnerves had been terribly shaken, and" ], [ "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "_ mother, it appears, went to live with a\npriest. The poor fellow was dreadfully cut up; he was brokenhearted; and he\nwent to Mendés, his heart swollen with grief, determined to make a clean\nbreast of it, let the worst come to the worst. After a great deal of\nbeating about the bush, and apologising, he got it out. You know Mendés,\nyou can see him smiling a little; and looking at _Chose_ with that\nwhite cameo face of his he said, \"_Avec quel", "it is\noften necessary to confide. All we saw, heard, read, or felt was the\nsubject of mutual confidences: the transitory emotion that a flush of\ncolour and a bit of perspective awakens, the blue tints that the sunsetting\nlends to a white dress, or the eternal verities, death and love. But,\nalthough I tested every fibre of thought and analysed every motive, I was\nvery sincere in my friendship, and very loyal in my admiration. Nor did my\nadmiration wane when I discovered that Marshall was", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "is poured into them without\nfriction or stoppage. This book is a record of my mental digestions; but it\nwould take another series of confessions to tell of the dinners I have\neaten, the champagne I have drunk! and the suppers! seven dozen of oysters,\npâté-de-foie-gras, heaps of truffles, salad, and then a walk home in the\nearly morning, a few philosophical reflections suggested by the appearance\nof a belated street-sweeper, then sleep, quiet and", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "and follies. But it did contain\na liberating idea--the idea that human nature is a subject to be dealt\nwith, not to be concealed and lied about. And, among others, George Moore\nwas set free--set free to write some of the sincerest fiction in our\nlanguage.\n\nThese \"Confessions\" reveal him in the process of revaluing the values of\nlife and art for himself. It was not an easy or a painless process.\nDestined for the army, because he wasn't apparently clever enough to go in\nfor the church or the law", "we sometimes possess and exercise\nunconsciously, and sometimes do not possess?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nAnd now, hypocritical reader, I will answer the questions which have been\nagitating you this long while, which you have asked at every stage of this\nlong narrative of a sinful life. Shake not your head, lift not your finger,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader; you can deceive me in nothing. I know the\nbaseness and unworthiness of your soul as I know the baseness and\nunworthiness of my own.", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "l'Isle-Adam. The last or the supposed last\nof the great family. He is telling that girl a story--that fair girl with\nheavy eyelids, stupid and sensual. She is, however, genuinely astonished\nand interested, and he is striving to play upon her ignorance. Listen to\nhim. \"Spain--the night is fragrant with the sea and the perfume of the\norange trees, you know--a midnight of stars and dreams. Now and then the\nsilence is broken by the sentries challenging--that is all. But not in\n", "reader, in showing\nyou my soul I am showing you your own; hypocritical reader, exquisitely\nhypocritical reader, you are my brother, I salute you.\n\nDay passed over day: I lived in that horrible lodging; I continued to\nlabour at my novel; it seemed an impossible task--defeat glared at me from\nevery corner of that frouzy room. My English was so bad, so thin,--stupid\ncolloquialisms out of joint with French idiom. I learnt unusual words and\nstuck them", "hideous garments of shame, you would sell your\nwretched soul for what I would not give the parings of my finger-nails\nfor--paragraphs in a society paper. I am ashamed of nothing I have done,\nespecially my sins, and I boldly confess that I then desired notoriety. I\nwalked along the streets mad; I turned upon myself like a tiger. \"Am I\ngoing to fail again as I have failed before?\" I asked myself. \"Will my\nnovel prove as abortive as my paintings, my poetry, my journalism?\" I", "sister was almost more than he could bear, and the\nmother had to whisper, 'Remember your promise to your father, to your dead\nfather.' The mother laid her head on the block, but he could not strike.\n'Be not the first coward of our name, strike; remember your promise to us\nall,' and her head was struck off.\"\n\n\"And the son,\" the girl asks, \"what became of him?\"\n\n\"He never was seen, save at night, walking, a solitary man, beneath the\nwalls of his castle in Granada.\"\n\n\"And", "as upon others, are not\nnoble, but the human is very despicable vermin and only tolerable when it\ntends to the brute, and away from the evangelical. I will tell you an\nanecdote which is in itself an admirable illustration of my craving for\nnotoriety; and my anecdote will serve a double purpose,--it will bring me\nsome of the notoriety of which I am so desirous, for you, dear, exquisitely\nhypocritical reader, will at once cry, \"Shame", "drawn over a bald skull. He explained,\nafter some hesitation, that I owed him a few thousands, and that the\naccounts were in his portmanteau. I suggested taking them to a solicitor to\nhave them examined. The solicitor advised me strongly to contest them. I\ndid not take the advice, but raised some money instead, and so the matter\nended so far as the immediate future was concerned. The years the most\nimpressionable, from twenty to thirty, when the senses and the mind are the\nwidest awake, I, the most impressionable of human", ", the changes\nthat have taken place in my life; and it is only necessary to say that one\nmorning, a few months ago, when my servant brought me some summer honey and\na glass of milk to my bedside, she handed me an unpleasant letter. My\nagent's handwriting, even when I knew the envelope contained a cheque, has\nnever quite failed to produce a sensation of repugnance in me;--so hateful\nis any sort of account, that I avoid as much as possible even knowing how I\nstand at my banker's. Therefore the odour", "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "say you would sell the souls you don't believe in, or\ndo believe in, for notoriety. I have known you attend funerals for the sake\nof seeing your miserable names in the paper. You, hypocritical reader, who\nare now turning up your eyes and murmuring \"horrid young man\"--examine your\nweakly heart, and see what divides us; I am not ashamed of my appetites, I\nproclaim them, what is more I gratify them; you're silent, you refrain, and\nyou dress up natural sins in", "\n\nI was eleven years old when I first heard and obeyed this cry, or, shall I\nsay, echo-augury?\n\nScene: A great family coach, drawn by two powerful country horses, lumbers\nalong a narrow Irish road. The ever recurrent signs--long ranges of blue\nmountains, the streak of bog, the rotting cabin, the flock of plover rising\nfrom the desolate water. Inside the coach there are two children. They are\nsmart, with new jackets and neckties; their faces are pale with sleep, and\nthe rolling of the coach" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "was expelled\nwhen I was sixteen, for idleness and general worthlessness. I returned to a\nwild country home, where I found my father engaged in training racehorses.\nFor a nature of such intense vitality as mine, an ambition, an aspiration\nof some sort was necessary; and I now, as I have often done since, accepted\nthe first ideal to hand. In this instance it was the _stable_. I was\ngiven a hunter, I rode to hounds every week, I rode gallops every morning,\nI read the racing calendar, stud-", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "! The word rang in my\nears and gleamed in my eyes. France! All my senses sprang from sleep like a\ncrew when the man on the look-out cries, \"Land ahead!\" Instantly I knew I\nshould, that I must, go to France, that I would live there, that I would\nbecome as a Frenchman. I knew not when nor how, but I knew I should go to\nFrance....\n\nThen my father died, and I suddenly found myself heir to considerable\nproperty--some three or four thousands a year; and then I knew that I", "beings, had spent in\nFrance, not among English residents, but among that which is the\nquintessence of the nation; I, not an indifferent spectator, but an\nenthusiast, striving heart and soul to identify himself with his\nenvironment, to shake himself free from race and language and to recreate\nhimself as it were in the womb of a new nationality, assuming its ideals,\nits morals, and its modes of thought, and I had succeeded strangely well,\nand when I returned home England was a new country to me; I had,", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "makes them feel a little sick. It is seven o'clock\nin the morning. Opposite the children are their parents, and they are\ntalking of a novel the world is reading. Did Lady Audley murder her\nhusband? Lady Audley! What a beautiful name; and she, who is a slender,\npale, fairy-like woman, killed her husband. Such thoughts flash through the\nboy's mind; his imagination is stirred and quickened, and he begs for an\nexplanation. The coach lumbers along, it arrives at its destination, and\n", "reader, in showing\nyou my soul I am showing you your own; hypocritical reader, exquisitely\nhypocritical reader, you are my brother, I salute you.\n\nDay passed over day: I lived in that horrible lodging; I continued to\nlabour at my novel; it seemed an impossible task--defeat glared at me from\nevery corner of that frouzy room. My English was so bad, so thin,--stupid\ncolloquialisms out of joint with French idiom. I learnt unusual words and\nstuck them", "learnt to feel that I wanted to live alone, and had moved away into the\nLatin quarter, whither I made occasional expeditions. I accompanied him\nonce to the old haunts, but various terms of penal servitude had scattered\nour friends, and I could not interest myself in the new. Nor did Marshall\nhimself interest me as he had once done. To my eager taste, he had grown\njust a little trite. My affection for him was as deep and sincere as ever;\nwere I to meet him now I would grasp his hand and hail him with firm, loyal\nfriend", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "hour, he had already sketched in his figure, and with all the\nsurroundings--screens, lamps, stoves, etc. I was deeply interested. I asked\nthe young lady next me if she knew who he was. She could give me no\ninformation. But at four o'clock there was a general exodus from the\nstudio, and we adjourned to a neighbouring _café_ to drink beer. The\nway led through a narrow passage, and as we stooped under an archway, the\nyoung man (Marshall was his", "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "\n\nI was eleven years old when I first heard and obeyed this cry, or, shall I\nsay, echo-augury?\n\nScene: A great family coach, drawn by two powerful country horses, lumbers\nalong a narrow Irish road. The ever recurrent signs--long ranges of blue\nmountains, the streak of bog, the rotting cabin, the flock of plover rising\nfrom the desolate water. Inside the coach there are two children. They are\nsmart, with new jackets and neckties; their faces are pale with sleep, and\nthe rolling of the coach", "are better than our\nneighbours. This is why I wrote this book, and this is why it is affording\nyou so much pleasure, O exquisitely hypocritical reader, my friend, my\nbrother, because it helps you to the belief that you are not so bad after\nall. Now to resume.\n\nThe knell of my thirtieth year has sounded, in three or four years my youth\nwill be as a faint haze on the sea, an illusive recollection; so now while\nstanding on the last verge of the hill, I", "destiny was to fall that others might rise upon\nthee, thou wert one of the noble legion of the conquered; let praise be\ngiven to the conquered, for the brunt of victory lies with the conquered.\nChild of the pavement, of strange sonnets and stranger music, I remember\nthee; I remember the silk shirts, the four sous of Italian cheese, the roll\nof bread, and the glass of milk;--the streets were thy dining-room. And the\nfive-mile walk daily to the suburban music hall where five francs were" ], [ "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "noon; at night I lay awake thinking of what I might do to attain a\nbetter result. But my efforts availed me nothing; it was like one who,\nfalling, stretches his arms for help and grasps the yielding air. How\nterrible are the languors and yearnings of impotence! how wearing! what an\naching void they leave in the heart! And all this I suffered until the\nburden of unachieved desire grew intolerable.\n\nI laid down my charcoal and said, \"I will never draw or paint again.\" That", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "you know, a 'man of\niron.' 'Yes, one member of your family shall be respited, but on one\ncondition.' To the agonised family conditions are as nothing. But they\ndon't know the man of iron is determined to make a terrible example, and\nthey cry, 'Any conditions.' 'He who is respited must serve as executioner\nto the others.' Great is the doom; you understand; but after all the name\nmust be saved. Then in the family council the father goes to his youngest\nson and says, 'I have been a good father to you", "destiny was to fall that others might rise upon\nthee, thou wert one of the noble legion of the conquered; let praise be\ngiven to the conquered, for the brunt of victory lies with the conquered.\nChild of the pavement, of strange sonnets and stranger music, I remember\nthee; I remember the silk shirts, the four sous of Italian cheese, the roll\nof bread, and the glass of milk;--the streets were thy dining-room. And the\nfive-mile walk daily to the suburban music hall where five francs were", "with every turn weaker like a hare before the hounds. From a\ncertain directness of construction, from the simple means by which Oak's\nruin is accomplished in the opening chapters, I did not expect that the\nstory would run hare-hearted in its close, but the moment Troy told his\nwife that he never cared for her, I suspected something was wrong; when he\nwent down to bathe and was carried out by the current I knew the game was\nup, and was prepared for anything, even for the final shooting by the rich\nfarmer, and", "sister was almost more than he could bear, and the\nmother had to whisper, 'Remember your promise to your father, to your dead\nfather.' The mother laid her head on the block, but he could not strike.\n'Be not the first coward of our name, strike; remember your promise to us\nall,' and her head was struck off.\"\n\n\"And the son,\" the girl asks, \"what became of him?\"\n\n\"He never was seen, save at night, walking, a solitary man, beneath the\nwalls of his castle in Granada.\"\n\n\"And", "ever poor and unknown? Because of something too\nmuch, or something too little? Because of something too much! so I think,\nat least; thy heart was too full of too pure an ideal, too far removed from\nall possible contagion with the base crowd.\n\nBut, Cabaner, thou didst not labour in vain; thy destiny, though obscure,\nwas a valiant and fruitful one; and, as in life, thou didst live for others\nso now in death thou dost live in others. Thou wert in an hour of wonder\nand strange", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "caserne_;\nand he suggests the inevitable question, Why did she marry him?--a question\nthat every young man of refined mind asks a thousand times by day and ten\nthousand times by night, asks till he is five-and-thirty, and sees that his\ngeneration has passed into middle age.\n\nWhy did she marry him? Not the sea, nor the sky, nor the great mysterious\nmidnight, when he opens his casement and gazes into starry space will give\nhim answer; riddle that no Oedipus will ever come to unravel;", "been a Pharaoh, an ostler, a pimp, an archbishop, and that in the\nfulfilment of the duties of each a certain measure of success would have\nbeen mine. I have felt the goad of many impulses, I have hunted many a\ntrail; when one scent failed another was taken up, and pursued with the\npertinacity of an instinct, rather than the fervour of a reasoned\nconviction. Sometimes, it is true, there came moments of weariness, of\ndespondency, but they were not enduring", "of all the families in Spain, it is not easy to\nunderstand that, no, not easy here in the 'Nouvelle Athènes'--ha, ha, one\nmust belong to a great family to understand, ha, ha.\n\n\"The father beseeches; he begs that one member may be spared to continue\nthe name--the youngest son--that is all; if he could be saved, the rest\nwhat matter; death is nothing to a Spaniard; the family, the name, a\nthousand years of name is everything. The general is,", "and collected, you have risen at your ordinary\nhour, you are returning from a stroll through the sunlight; on the ground\nyour nerves are altered by unusual rising, by cold air, by long\nexpectation. It was three to one against my killing him, it was a hundred\nto one against his killing me. So I calculated the chances, so much as I\ntook the trouble to calculate the chances, but in truth I thought very\nlittle of them; when I want to do anything I do not fear anything, and I\nsincerely wanted to shoot this young man. I did", "no qualifications. It will\nreadily be understood how a mind like mine, so keenly alive to all\nimpulses, and so unsupported by any moral convictions, would suffer in so\nkeen a contest waged under such unequal and cruel conditions. It was in\ntruth a year of great passion and great despair. Defeat is bitter when it\ncomes swiftly and conclusively, but when defeat falls by inches like the\nfatal pendulum in the pit, the agony is a little out of reach of words to\ndefine. It was even so. I remember" ], [ "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "me a great and real inconvenience. French\nwit was in my brain, French sentiment was in my heart; of the English soul\nI knew nothing, and I could not remember old sympathies, it was like\nseeking forgotten words, and if I were writing a short story, I had to\nreturn in thought to Montmartre or the Champs Elysées for my characters.\nThat I should have forgotten so much in ten years seems incredible, and it\nwill be deemed impossible by many, but that is because few are aware of how\nlittle they know of the details", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "as it\nwere, forgotten everything. Every aspect of street and suburban garden was\nnew to me; of the manner of life of Londoners I knew nothing. This sounds\nincredible, but it is so; I saw, but I could realise nothing. I went into a\ndrawing-room, but everything seemed far away--a dream, a presentment,\nnothing more; I was in touch with nothing; of the thoughts and feelings of\nthose I met I could understand nothing, nor could I sympathise with them:\nan Englishman was at that time as much out of my", ", when I\nbegan to write French verse and occasional _chroniques_ in the papers,\nthat the great damage was done. I remember very well indeed one day, while\narranging an act of a play I was writing with a friend, finding suddenly to\nmy surprise that I could think more easily and rapidly in French than in\nEnglish; but with all this I did not learn French. I chattered, and I felt\nintensely at home in it; yes, I could write a sonnet or a ballade almost\nwithout a slip, but my prose required a good deal of alter", "Spanish but in French are the challenges given; the town is in the hands of\nthe French; it is under martial law. But now an officer passes down a\ncertain garden, a Spaniard disguised as a French officer; from the balcony\nthe family--one of the most noble and oldest families Spain can boast of, a\nthousand years, long before the conquest of the Moors--watches him. Well\nthen\"--Villiers sweeps with a white feminine hand the long hair that is\nfalling over his face--he has half forgotten,", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "will look back on the valley I\nlingered in. Do I regret? I neither repent nor do I regret; and a fool and\na weakling I should he if I did. I know the worth and the rarity of more\nthan fifteen years of systematic enjoyment. Nature provided me with as\nperfect a digestive apparatus, mental and physical, as she ever turned out\nof her workshop; my stomach and brain are set in the most perfect equipoise\npossible to conceive, and up and down they went and still go with measured\nmovement, absorbing and assimilating all that", "side of a\nvast abyss, two animals different in colour, form, and temperament;--two\nideas destined to remain irrevocably separate and distinct. I have heard of\nwriting and speaking two languages equally well: this was impossible to me,\nand I am convinced that if I had remained two more years in France I should\nnever have been able to identify my thoughts with the language I am now\nwriting in, and I should have written it as an alien. As it was I only just\nescaped this detestable fate. And it was in the last two years", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "; seventeen hours at least out\nof the twenty-four drudging in that horrible kitchen, running up stairs\nwith coals and breakfasts and cans of hot water; down on your knees before\na grate, pulling out the cinders with those hands--can I call them hands?\nThe lodgers sometimes threw you a kind word, but never one that recognised\nthat you were akin to us, only the pity that might be extended to a dog.\nAnd I used to ask you all sorts of cruel questions, I was curious to know\nthe depth of animalism you had sunk", "to, or rather out of which you had\nnever been raised. And you generally answered innocently and naïvely\nenough. But sometimes my words were too crude, and they struck through the\nthick hide into the quick, into the human, and you winced a little; but\nthis was rarely, for you were very nearly, oh, very nearly an animal: your\ntemperament and intelligence was just that of a dog that has picked up a\nmaster, not a real master, but a makeshift master who may turn it out at\nany moment. Dickens would sent", "unvarying freshness; August\nhas languished and loved in the strength of the sun. She is stately, she is\ntall. What sins, what disappointments, what aspirations lie in those grey\neyes, mysteriously still, and mysteriously revealed. These a young man\nlongs to know of, they are his life. He imagines himself sitting by her,\nwhen the others have gone, holding her hand, calling on her name; sometimes\nshe moves away and plays the moonlight sonata. Letting her hands droop upon\nthe keys she talks sadly,", "well-specified days at\nthe _table d'hôte_. Fifteen years have passed away, and these old\npeople, no doubt, have joined their ancestors; but I can see them still\nsitting in that _salle à manger_; the _buffets en vieux chêne_;\nthe opulent candelabra _en style d'empire_; the waiter lighting the\ngas in the pale Parisian evening. That white-haired man, that tall, thin,\nhatchet-faced American, has dined at this _table d'", "work. I did not think much of the application I was told\nI should have to make at the Embassy; my thoughts were fixed on the master,\nand my one desire was to see him. To see him was easy, to speak to him was\nanother matter, and I had to wait three weeks, until I could hold a\nconversation in French. How I achieved this feat I cannot say. I never\nopened a book, I know, nor is it agreeable to think what my language must\nhave been like--like nothing ever heard under God's sky before, probably.\nIt", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "and housebreakers; on the following evening we were\ndining with a duchess or a princess in the Champs Elysées. And we prided\nourselves vastly on our versatility in using with equal facility the\nlanguage of the \"fence's\" parlour, and that of the literary salon; on being\nable to appear as much at home in one as in the other. Delighted at our\nprowess, we often whispered, \"The princess, I swear, would not believe her\neyes if she saw us now;\" and then" ], [ "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "nondescript who leaned his evening away against the\ncounter, and was supposed to know some one who knew Lord ----'s footman,\nand the great man often spoken of, but rarely seen--he who made \"a\ntwo-'undred pound book on the Derby\"; and the constant coming and going of\nthe cabmen--\"Half an ounce of shag, sir.\" I was then at a military tutor's\nin the Euston Road; for, in answer to my father's demand as to what\noccupation I intended to pursue, I had consented", "; but he was truly English, and through him I passed to the\nstudy of the Elizabethan dramatists, the real literature of my race, and\nwashed myself clean.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nTHOUGHTS IN A STRAND LODGING\n\nAwful Emma has undressed and put the last child away--stowed the last child\naway in some mysterious and unapproachable corner that none knows of but\nshe; the fat landlady has ceased to loiter about my door, has ceased to\npester me with offers", "book! No. I required an\nimmediate answer, and journalism alone could give me that. So I reasoned in\nthe Strand lodging-house. And what led me to that house? Chance, or a\nfriend's recommendation? I forget. It was uncomfortable, hideous, and not\nvery clean: but curious, as all things are curious when examined closely.\nLet me tell you about my rooms. The sitting-room was a good deal longer\nthan it was wide; it was panelled with deal, and the deal was painted a\nlight brown; behind it there was a", "home was\nbroken up, and we went to London. But an ideal set up on its pedestal is\nnot easily displaced, and I persevered in my love, despite the poor\npromises London life held out for its ultimate attainment; and\nsurreptitiously I continued to nourish it with small bets made in a small\ntobacconist's. Well do I remember that shop, the oily-faced,\nsandy-whiskered proprietor, his betting-book, the cheap cigars along the\ncounter, the one-eyed", "do I; I have done so, and I regret nothing except that some infernal\nfarmers and miners will not pay me what they owe me and enable me to\ncontinue the life that was once mine, and of which I was so bright an\nornament. How I hate this atrocious Strand lodging-house, how I long for my\napartment in _Rue de la Tour des Dames_, with all its charming\nadjuncts, palms and pastels, my cat, my python, my friends, blond hair and\ndark.\n\nIt was not long before I", "ase,\n But men may sound the heavens and sea,\n One thing is lost for aye--the peace\n Of the old dear days of Arcady.\n\n\nAnd so it was that I came to settle down in a Strand lodging-house,\ndetermined to devote myself to literature, and to accept the hardships of a\nliterary life. I had been playing long enough, and now I was resolved to\nsee what I could do in the world of work. I was anxious for proof,\nperemptory proof, of my capacity or incapacity. A", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "that I was forced to accept it, without likening it to any French\nmemory and thereby weakening the impression. It was a house of champagne,\nlate hours, and evening clothes, of literature and art, of passionate\ndiscussions. So this house was not so alien to me as all else I had seen in\nLondon; and perhaps the cosmopolitanism of this charming Jew, his\nHellenism, in fact, was a sort of plank whereon I might pass and enter\nagain into English life. I found in Curzon Street another \"Nouvelle\nAthÃ", "wearied of talking to her of her hopes and ambitions, of the young\nman she admired. She used to ask me about my novel.\n\nPoor Miss L.! Where is she? I do not know, but I shall not forget the time\nwhen I used to listen for her footstep on the midnight stairs. Often I was\ntoo despondent, when my troubles lay too heavily and darkly upon me, I let\nher go up to her garret without a word. Despondent days and nights when I\ncried, Shall I never pass from this lodging? shall", "She invited her friends\nto dinner, and with the few pence that remained she bought some boxes of\nmatches, boiled them, and drank the water. No one knew why; some said it\nwas love.\n\nI went to London in an exuberant necktie, a tiny hat; I wore large trousers\nand a Capoul beard; and I looked, I believe, as unlike an Englishman as a\ndrawing by Grévin. In the smoking-room of Morley's Hotel I met my agent, an\nimmense nose, and a wisp of hair", "cent\nadmiration. He spoke of, and he was clearly on familiar terms with, the\nfashionable restaurants and actresses; he stopped at a hairdresser's to\nhave his hair curled. All this was very exciting, and a little bewildering.\nI was on the tiptoe of expectation to see his apartments; and, not to be\nutterly outdone, I alluded to my valet.\n\nHis apartments were not so grand as I expected; but when he explained that\nhe had just spent ten thousand pounds in two years, and was now living on", "be a\nLondoner, but to know only the slum in which you were born and the few\nshops in the Strand at which the landlady dealt. To know nothing of London\nmeant in your case not to know that it was not England; England and London!\nyou could not distinguish between them. Was England an island or a\nmountain? you had no notion. I remember when you heard that Miss L---- was\ngoing to America, you asked me, and the question was sublime: \"Is she going\nto travel all night?\" You had heard people speak of travelling all night", "the time a living house--the dissolute paragraphists, the elegant\nmashers (mark the imaginativeness of the slang), the stolid, good-humoured\ncosters, the cheerful lights o' love, the extraordinary comics. What\ndelightful unison of enjoyment, what unanimity of soul, what communality of\nwit; all knew each other, all enjoyed each other's presence; in a word,\nthere was life. Then there were no cascades of real water, nor London\ndocks, nor offensively rich furniture, with hotel", "of him to think of the hostess first, he is in her house,\nthe house is well-furnished, and is suggestive of excellent meats and\nwines). He can read through the slim woman whose black hair, a-glitter with\ndiamonds, contrasts with her white satin; an old man is talking to her, she\ndances with him, and she refused a young man a moment before. This is a bad\nsign; our Lovelace knows it; there is a stout woman of thirty-five, who is\nlooking at him, red satin", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "\ngenerally tea-things and jam-pots on the table. In a little while he\nbrought a little creature about five feet three to live with him, and when\nthe little creature and the long creature went out together, it was like\nDon Quixote and Sancho Panza setting forth in quest of adventures in the\nland of Strand. The little creature indulged in none of the loud, rasping\naffectation of humour that was so maddening in the long creature; the\nlittle creature was dry, hard, and sterile, and when he did join in" ], [ "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "just as I had watched the chorus girls and mummers, three years ago, at\nthe Globe Theatre, now, excited by a nervous curiosity, I watched this\nworld of Parisian adventurers and lights o' love. And this craving for\nobservation of manners, this instinct for the rapid notation of gestures\nand words that epitomise a state of feeling, of attitudes that mirror forth\nthe soul, declared itself a main passion; and it grew and strengthened, to\nthe detriment of the other Art still so dear to me. With the patience of a\ncat before", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "of Shelley, I thought how I should go to Paris when I\nwas of age, and study painting.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nAt last the day came, and with several trunks and boxes full of clothes,\nbooks, and pictures, I started, accompanied by an English valet, for Paris\nand Art.\n\nWe all know the great grey and melancholy Gare du Nord, at half-past six in\nthe morning; and the miserable carriages, and the tall, haggard city. Pale,\nsloppy, yellow houses; an", "an basis\noccupied my whole attention. The exquisite outlines of the marvellous\ncastle, the romantic woods, the horses moving, the lovers leaning to each\nother's faces enchanted me; and then the indescribably beautiful\ndescription of the performance of _As you like it_, and the supreme\nrelief and perfect assuagement it brings to Rodolph, who then sees Mdlle.\nde Maupin for the first time in woman's attire. If she were dangerously\nbeautiful as a man, that beauty is forgotten in the rapture", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "and unconditionally. He hesitated, however,\nwhen I asked to be taken as a private pupil, but he wrote out the address\nof a studio where he gave instruction every Tuesday morning. This was even\nmore to my taste, for I had an instinctive liking for Frenchmen, and was\nanxious to see as much of them as possible.\n\nThe studio was perched high up in the Passage des Panoramas. There I found\nM. Julien, a typical meridional--the large stomach, the dark eyes, crafty\nand watchful; the seduct", "There are lilacs in the room and the _Mont Valérien_ is\nbeautiful upon a great lemon sky, and the long avenue is merging into\nviolet vapour.\n\n\"We have already begun to think of where we shall go to this year. Last\nyear we went to P----, an enchanting place, quite rustic, but within easy\ndistance of a casino. I had vowed not to dance, for I had been out every\nnight during the season, but the temptation proved irresistible, and I gave\nway. There were", "well-specified days at\nthe _table d'hôte_. Fifteen years have passed away, and these old\npeople, no doubt, have joined their ancestors; but I can see them still\nsitting in that _salle à manger_; the _buffets en vieux chêne_;\nthe opulent candelabra _en style d'empire_; the waiter lighting the\ngas in the pale Parisian evening. That white-haired man, that tall, thin,\nhatchet-faced American, has dined at this _table d'", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "of the city, I explained to my valet that\nwe were passing through some by-streets, and returned to the study of a\nFrench vocabulary. Nevertheless, when the time came to formulate a demand\nfor rooms, hot water, and a fire, I broke down, and the proprietress of the\nhotel, who spoke English, had to be sent for.\n\nMy plans, so far as I had any, were to enter the beaux arts--Cabanel's\nstudio for preference; for I had then an intense and profound admiration\nfor that painter's", "in terrible slang we shouted a\nbenediction on some \"crib\" that was going to be broken into that evening.\nAnd we thought there was something very thrilling in leaving the Rue de la\nGaieté, returning home to dress, and presenting our spotless selves to the\n_élite_. And we succeeded very well, as indeed all young men do who\nwaltz perfectly and avoid making love to the wrong woman.\n\nBut the excitement of climbing up and down the social ladder did not stave\noff our craving for art; and there came about this time", "oppressive absence of colour; a peculiar\nbleakness in the streets. The _ménagère_ hurries down the asphalte to\nmarket; a dreadful _garçon de café_, with a napkin tied round his\nthroat, moves about some chairs, so decrepit and so solitary that it seems\nimpossible to imagine a human being sitting there. Where are the\nBoulevards? where are the Champs Élysées? I asked myself; and feeling bound\nto apologise for the appearance", "hed a purer atmosphere of thought than I. And then the sweet, white\npeace of antiquity! The great, calm gaze that is not sadness nor joy, but\nsomething that we know not of, which is lost to the world for ever.\n\n\"But if you want to be a painter you must go to France--France is the only\nschool of Art.\" I must again call attention to the phenomenon of\necho-augury, that is to say, words heard in an unlooked-for quarter, that,\nwithout an appeal to our reason, impel belief. France", ".\n\n Les paons out dressé la rampe occellée\n Pour la descente de ses yeux vers le tapis\n De choses et de sens\n Qui va vers l'horizon, parure vemiculée\n De son corps alangui\n En âme se tapit\n Le flou désir molli de récits et d'encens.\n\nI laughed at these verbal eccentricities, but they were not without their\neffect, and that effect was", "\n\n\nIs it necessary to say that I did not find a manager to produce my play? A\nprinter was more attainable, and the correction of proofs amused me for a\nwhile. I wrote another play; and when the hieing after theatrical managers\nbegan to lose its attractiveness my thoughts reverted to France, which\nalways haunted me; and which now possessed me as if with the sweet and\nmagnetic influence of home.\n\nHow important my absence from Paris seemed to me; and how Paris rushed into\nmy eyes!--Paris--public ball-", "him. The young man can do no wrong.\nEvery house is open to him, and the best of everything is laid before him;\ngirls dispute the right to serve him; they come to him with cake and wine,\nthey sit circle-wise and listen to him, and when one is fortunate to get\nhim alone she will hang round his neck, she will propose to him, and will\ntake his refusal kindly and without resentment. They will not let him stoop\nto tie up his shoe lace, but will rush and simultaneously claim the right\nto attend on him. To represent in" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "told my _concierge_ that\nI would return in a month, and I left all to be sold, brutally sold by\nauction, as the letter I read in the last chapter charmingly and touchingly\ndescribes.\n\nNot even to Marshall did I confide my foreboding that Paris would pass out\nof my life, that it would henceforth be with me a beautiful memory, but\nnever more a practical delight. He and I were no longer living together; we\nhad parted a second time, but this time without bitterness of any kind; he\nhad", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "rooms, _cafés_, the models in the studio\nand the young girls painting, and Marshall, Alice, and Julien.\nMarshall!--my thoughts pointed at him through the intervening streets and\nthe endless procession of people coming and going.\n\n\"M. Marshall, is he at home?\" \"M. Marshall left here some months ago.\" \"Do\nyou know his address?\" \"I'll ask my husband.\" \"Do you know M. Marshall's\naddress!\" \"Yes, he's gone to live in the Rue de Douai.\" \"What number?\" \"", "rose,\nburdened with great weight of fringes and curtains, the python devoured a\nguinea pig, the last I gave him; the great white cat came to me. I said all\nthis must go, must henceforth be to me an abandoned dream, a something, not\nmore real than a summer meditation. So be it, and, as was characteristic of\nme, I broke with Paris suddenly, without warning anyone. I knew in my heart\nof hearts that I should never return, but no word was spoken, and I\ncontinued a pleasant delusion with myself; I", "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "of Shelley, I thought how I should go to Paris when I\nwas of age, and study painting.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nAt last the day came, and with several trunks and boxes full of clothes,\nbooks, and pictures, I started, accompanied by an English valet, for Paris\nand Art.\n\nWe all know the great grey and melancholy Gare du Nord, at half-past six in\nthe morning; and the miserable carriages, and the tall, haggard city. Pale,\nsloppy, yellow houses; an", "you were really _très_\nParisien. Come back and take a nice apartment on the Champs Elysées. You\nmight come back for the Duchesse's ball. I will get an invitation for you,\nand will keep the cotillion for you. The idea of running away as you did,\nand never telling any one where you were going to. I always said you were a\nlittle cracked. And letting all your things be sold! If you had only told\nme! I should like so much to have had that Turkish lamp. Yours--", "Dames_\nis ended for ever for you and me. We shall not see the faun in _terre\ncuite_ again; I was thinking of going to see him the other day, but the\nstreet is so steep; my coachman advised me to spare the horse's hind legs.\nI believe it is the steepest street in Paris. And your luncheon parties,\nhow I did enjoy them, and how Fay did enjoy them too; and what I risked,\nshortsighted as I am, picking my way from the tramcar down to that\nout-", "of in the daily papers, but the real French academy, the\n_café_. The \"Nouvelle Athènes\" is a _café_ on the Place Pigale.\nAh! the morning idlenesses and the long evenings when life was but a summer\nillusion, the grey moonlights on the Place where we used to stand on the\npavements, the shutters clanging up behind us, loath to separate, thinking\nof what we had left said, and how much better we might have enforced our\narguments. Dead and scattered", "two young men here, one the Count of B----, the other the\nMarquis of G----, one of the best families in France, a distant cousin of\nmy husband. He has written a book which every one says is one of the most\namusing things that has appeared for years, _c'est surtout très\nParisien_. He paid me great attentions, and made my husband wildly\njealous. I used to go out and sit with him amid the rocks, and it was\nperhaps very lucky for me that he went away. We may return there", "ladies whose husbands are abroad happily congregate, I returned to\nParis refreshed.\n\nMarshall and I were no longer on speaking terms, but I saw him daily, in a\nnew overcoat, of a cut admirably adapted to his figure, sweeping past the\nfans and the jet ornaments of the Passage des Panoramas. The coat\ninterested me, and I remembered that if I had not broken with him I should\nhave been able to ask him some essential questions concerning it. Of such\ntrifles as this the sincerest friendships are made;", "learnt to feel that I wanted to live alone, and had moved away into the\nLatin quarter, whither I made occasional expeditions. I accompanied him\nonce to the old haunts, but various terms of penal servitude had scattered\nour friends, and I could not interest myself in the new. Nor did Marshall\nhimself interest me as he had once done. To my eager taste, he had grown\njust a little trite. My affection for him was as deep and sincere as ever;\nwere I to meet him now I would grasp his hand and hail him with firm, loyal\nfriend", "another novel, he will say, \"What's the\ngood, it would not be read; no one read the others, and I mightn't do even\nas well if I tried again.\" Paul Alexis, Léon Diex, Pissarro, Cabaner, are\nalso frequently seen in the \"Nouvelle Athènes.\"\n\nCabaner! the world knows not the names of those who scorn the world:\nsomewhere in one of the great populous churchyards of Paris there is a\nforgotten grave, and there lies Caban", "of dust. \"The gentlemen\nare not here to-day, the studio is closed; I am sweeping up.\" \"Oh, and\nwhere is M. Julien?\" \"I cannot say, sir: perhaps at the _café_, or\nperhaps he is gone to the country.\" This was not very encouraging, and now,\nmy enthusiasm thoroughly damped, I strolled along _le Passage_,\nlooking at the fans, the bangles and the litter of cheap trinkets that each\nwindow was filled with. On the left at the corner of the Boulevard was our", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "of-the-way little street! Men never appreciate the risks women run for\nthem. But to leave my letters lying about--I cannot forgive that. When I\ntold Fay she said, 'What can you expect? I warned you against flirting with\nboys.' I never did before--never.\n\n\"Paris is now just as it was when you used to sit on the balcony and I read\nyou Browning. You never liked his poetry, and I cannot understand why. I\nhave found a new poem which I am sure would convert you; you should be\nhere." ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "told my _concierge_ that\nI would return in a month, and I left all to be sold, brutally sold by\nauction, as the letter I read in the last chapter charmingly and touchingly\ndescribes.\n\nNot even to Marshall did I confide my foreboding that Paris would pass out\nof my life, that it would henceforth be with me a beautiful memory, but\nnever more a practical delight. He and I were no longer living together; we\nhad parted a second time, but this time without bitterness of any kind; he\nhad", "rose,\nburdened with great weight of fringes and curtains, the python devoured a\nguinea pig, the last I gave him; the great white cat came to me. I said all\nthis must go, must henceforth be to me an abandoned dream, a something, not\nmore real than a summer meditation. So be it, and, as was characteristic of\nme, I broke with Paris suddenly, without warning anyone. I knew in my heart\nof hearts that I should never return, but no word was spoken, and I\ncontinued a pleasant delusion with myself; I", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "learnt to feel that I wanted to live alone, and had moved away into the\nLatin quarter, whither I made occasional expeditions. I accompanied him\nonce to the old haunts, but various terms of penal servitude had scattered\nour friends, and I could not interest myself in the new. Nor did Marshall\nhimself interest me as he had once done. To my eager taste, he had grown\njust a little trite. My affection for him was as deep and sincere as ever;\nwere I to meet him now I would grasp his hand and hail him with firm, loyal\nfriend", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "Dames_\nis ended for ever for you and me. We shall not see the faun in _terre\ncuite_ again; I was thinking of going to see him the other day, but the\nstreet is so steep; my coachman advised me to spare the horse's hind legs.\nI believe it is the steepest street in Paris. And your luncheon parties,\nhow I did enjoy them, and how Fay did enjoy them too; and what I risked,\nshortsighted as I am, picking my way from the tramcar down to that\nout-", "of Shelley, I thought how I should go to Paris when I\nwas of age, and study painting.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nAt last the day came, and with several trunks and boxes full of clothes,\nbooks, and pictures, I started, accompanied by an English valet, for Paris\nand Art.\n\nWe all know the great grey and melancholy Gare du Nord, at half-past six in\nthe morning; and the miserable carriages, and the tall, haggard city. Pale,\nsloppy, yellow houses; an", "\n\n\nIs it necessary to say that I did not find a manager to produce my play? A\nprinter was more attainable, and the correction of proofs amused me for a\nwhile. I wrote another play; and when the hieing after theatrical managers\nbegan to lose its attractiveness my thoughts reverted to France, which\nalways haunted me; and which now possessed me as if with the sweet and\nmagnetic influence of home.\n\nHow important my absence from Paris seemed to me; and how Paris rushed into\nmy eyes!--Paris--public ball-", "\n\n\"_Parlons d'autre chose: sur la question d'art on ne s'entend jamais._\"\n\nWhen we were excited Marshall and I always dropped into French.\n\n\"And now tell me,\" he said, \"about this duel.\"\n\nI could not bring myself to admit, even to Marshall, that I was willing to\nshoot a man for the sake of the notoriety it would bring me, not because I\nfeared in him any revolt of conscience, but because I dreaded his sneers;\nhe was known to all Paris, I was", "rooms, _cafés_, the models in the studio\nand the young girls painting, and Marshall, Alice, and Julien.\nMarshall!--my thoughts pointed at him through the intervening streets and\nthe endless procession of people coming and going.\n\n\"M. Marshall, is he at home?\" \"M. Marshall left here some months ago.\" \"Do\nyou know his address?\" \"I'll ask my husband.\" \"Do you know M. Marshall's\naddress!\" \"Yes, he's gone to live in the Rue de Douai.\" \"What number?\" \"", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "moonlight of the Place Pigale, and through the dark shadows of the streets,\ntalking of the last book published, he hanging on to my arm, speaking in\nthat high febrile voice of his, every phrase luminous, aerial, even as the\nsoaring moon and the fitful clouds. Duranty, an unknown Stendal, will come\nin for an hour or so; he will talk little and go away quietly; he knows,\nand his whole manner shows that he knows that he is a defeated man; and if\nyou ask him why he does not write", "two young men here, one the Count of B----, the other the\nMarquis of G----, one of the best families in France, a distant cousin of\nmy husband. He has written a book which every one says is one of the most\namusing things that has appeared for years, _c'est surtout très\nParisien_. He paid me great attentions, and made my husband wildly\njealous. I used to go out and sit with him amid the rocks, and it was\nperhaps very lucky for me that he went away. We may return there", "of in the daily papers, but the real French academy, the\n_café_. The \"Nouvelle Athènes\" is a _café_ on the Place Pigale.\nAh! the morning idlenesses and the long evenings when life was but a summer\nillusion, the grey moonlights on the Place where we used to stand on the\npavements, the shutters clanging up behind us, loath to separate, thinking\nof what we had left said, and how much better we might have enforced our\narguments. Dead and scattered", "written a book. I have not seen it, but I hear that it\nis really too _décolleté_. She is _une femme d'esprit_, but the\nway she affiché's herself is too much for any one. She never goes anywhere\nnow without _le petit_ D----. It is a great pity.\n\n\"And now, my dear friend, write me a nice letter, and tell me when you are\ncoming back to Paris. I am sure you cannot amuse yourself in that hateful\nLondon; the nicest thing about you was that" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "noon; at night I lay awake thinking of what I might do to attain a\nbetter result. But my efforts availed me nothing; it was like one who,\nfalling, stretches his arms for help and grasps the yielding air. How\nterrible are the languors and yearnings of impotence! how wearing! what an\naching void they leave in the heart! And all this I suffered until the\nburden of unachieved desire grew intolerable.\n\nI laid down my charcoal and said, \"I will never draw or paint again.\" That", "three yards long.\"\n\nAnd so we went to jeer a group of enthusiasts that willingly forfeit all\ndelights of the world in the hope of realising a new aestheticism; we went\ninsolent with patent leather shoes and bright kid gloves and armed with all\nthe jargon of the school. \"_Cette jambe ne porte pas;_\" \"_la nature\nne se fait pas comme ça;_\" \"_on dessine par les masses; combien de\ntêtes?_\" \"_Sept et demi._\" \"_Si j'avais un", "rigorously respected. It has been said a\nthousand times that an art is only a reflection of a certain age; quite so,\nonly certain ages are more interesting than others, and consequently\nproduce better art, just as certain seasons produce better crops. We heard\nin the Nouvelle Athènes how the Democratic movement, in other words,\nRespectability, in other words, Education, has extinguished the\nhandicrafts; it was admitted that in the more individual arts--painting and\npoetry--men would be always found to sacrifice their lives for", "is absolutely classical; he thinks of nature, but he does\nnot see nature; he is guided by his mind, and not by his eyes; and the best\nof it is he says so. Oh, he knows it well enough! Any one who knows him\nmust have heard him say, \"Painting is absolutely scientific; it is an exact\nscience.\" And his work is in accord with his theory; he risks nothing, all\nis brought down, arranged, balanced, and made one,--a well-determined\nmental conception, I admire his work; I am merely showing how", "There is nothing very\ntrenchantly French about him either, except the large necktie; his eyes are\nsmall and his words are sharp, ironical, cynical. These two men are the\nleaders of the impressionist school. Their friendship has been jarred by\ninevitable rivalry. \"Degas was painting 'Semiramis' when I was painting\n'Modern Paris,'\" says Manet. \"Manet is in despair because he cannot paint\natrocious pictures like Durant, and be fêted and decorated; he is an\nartist,", "in terrible slang we shouted a\nbenediction on some \"crib\" that was going to be broken into that evening.\nAnd we thought there was something very thrilling in leaving the Rue de la\nGaieté, returning home to dress, and presenting our spotless selves to the\n_élite_. And we succeeded very well, as indeed all young men do who\nwaltz perfectly and avoid making love to the wrong woman.\n\nBut the excitement of climbing up and down the social ladder did not stave\noff our craving for art; and there came about this time", "is a _chef d'oeuvre_.\nNature seems to be closing about them like a tomb; and that\nhillside,--sunset flooding the skies with yellow and the earth with blue\nshadow,--is another piece of painting that will one day find a place in one\nof the public galleries; and the same can be said of the portrait of the\nwoman on a background of chintz flowers.\n\nWe could but utter coarse gibes and exclaim, \"What could have induced him\nto paint such things? surely he must have seen that it was", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "not by inclination, but by force. He is as a galley slave chained\nto the oar,\" says Degas. Different too are their methods of work. Manet\npaints his whole picture from nature, trusting his instinct to lead him\naright through the devious labyrinth of selection. Nor does his instinct\never fail him, there is a vision in his eyes which he calls nature, and\nwhich he paints unconsciously as he digests his food, thinking and\ndeclaring vehemently that the artist should not seek a synthesis, but\nshould paint merely what", "*\n\nGood heavens! and the world still believes in education, in teaching people\nthe \"grammar of art.\" Education is fatal to any one with a spark of\nartistic feeling. Education should be confined to clerks, and even them it\ndrives to drink. Will the world learn that we never learn anything that we\ndid not know before? The artist, the poet, painter, musician, and novelist\ngo straight to the food they want, guided by an unerring and ineffable\ninstinct; to teach them is to destroy the nerve of the artistic instinct,\n", "the first day of my martyrdom. The\nclocks were striking eight; we chose our places, got into position. After\nthe first hour, I compared my drawing with Marshall's. He had, it is true,\ncaught the movement of the figure better than I, but the character and the\nquality of his work was miserable. That of mine was not. I have said I\npossessed no artistic facility, but I did not say faculty, my drawing was\nnever common; it was individual in feeling, it was refined. I possessed all\nthe rarer qualities, but not that", "able to get up at seven in the\nmorning; and ten hours of work daily are trying to the resolution even of\nthe best intentioned. But we had sworn to forego all pleasures for the sake\nof art--table d'hôtes in the Rue Maubeuge, French and foreign duchesses in\nthe Champs Elysées, thieves in the Rue de la Gaieté.\n\nI was entering therefore on a duel with Marshall for supremacy in an art\nfor which, as has already been said, I possessed", "t paint badly like other people. Education destroys\nindividuality. That great studio of Julien's is a sphinx, and all the poor\nfolk that go there for artistic education are devoured. After two years\nthey all paint and draw alike, every one; that vile execution,--they call\nit execution,--_la pâet, la peinture au premier coup_. I was over in\nEngland last year, and I saw some portraits by a man called Richmond. They\nwere horrible, but I liked them because they weren't like painting. St", "man is really an artist he will remember what is\nnecessary, forget what is useless; but if he takes notes he will interrupt\nhis artistic digestion, and the result will be a lot of little touches,\ninchoate and wanting in the elegant rhythm of the synthesis.\n\n * * * * *\n\nI am sick of synthetical art; we want observation direct and unreasoned.\nWhat I reproach Millet with is that it is always the same thing, the same\npeasant, the same _sabot_, the same sentiment. You must admit", "ordination, and how\nthe irrevocable message was obeyed, and how it led to the creation of a\nmental existence.\n\nAnd now for a third time I experienced the pain and joy of a sudden and\ninward light. Naturalism, truth, the new art, above all the phrase, \"the\nnew art,\" impressed me as with a sudden sense of light. I was dazzled, and\nI vaguely understood that my \"Roses of Midnight\" were sterile\neccentricities, dead flowers that could not be galvanised into any\nsemblance", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "that it\nis somewhat stereotyped.\n\n * * * * *\n\nWhat does that matter; what is more stereotyped than Japanese art? But that\ndoes not prevent it from being always beautiful.\n\n * * * * *\n\nPeople talk of Manet's originality; that is just what I can't see. What he\nhas got, and what you can't take away from him, is a magnificent execution.\nA piece of still life by Manet is the most wonderful thing in the world;\nv", "partly represents a\nflaunting of such borrowed colors. It was the fashion of the Parisian\ndiabolists to gloat over cruelty, by way of showing their superiority to\nChristian morality. The enjoyment of others' suffering was a splendid pagan\nvirtue. So George Moore kept a pet python, and cultivated paganness by\nwatching it devour rabbits alive.\n\nIt was the result of the same accident which caused him to conclude--and to\npreach at some length in this book--that art is aristocratic. It was the\npro" ], [ "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "some one calls him. He turns; I can see his white kid\ngloves; the air is as sugar with the odour of the gardenias; there is\nbrilliant light here; there is shadow in the further rooms; the women's\nfeet pass to and fro beneath the stiff skirts; I call for my hat and coat;\nI light a cigar; I stroll up Piccadilly ... a very pleasant evening; I have\nseen a good many people I knew; I have observed an attitude, and an\nearnestness of manner that proved that a heart was beating", "hour, he had already sketched in his figure, and with all the\nsurroundings--screens, lamps, stoves, etc. I was deeply interested. I asked\nthe young lady next me if she knew who he was. She could give me no\ninformation. But at four o'clock there was a general exodus from the\nstudio, and we adjourned to a neighbouring _café_ to drink beer. The\nway led through a narrow passage, and as we stooped under an archway, the\nyoung man (Marshall was his", "he is a little mixed in the\nopening of the story, and he is striving in English to \"scamp,\" in French\nto _escamoter_. \"The family are watching, death if he is caught, if he\nfails to kill the French sentry. The cry of a bird, some vague sound\nattracts the sentry, he turns; all is lost. The Spaniard is seized. Martial\nlaw, Spanish conspiracy must be put down. The French general is a man of\niron.\" (Villiers laughs, a short hesitating laugh that is characteristic of", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "unvarying freshness; August\nhas languished and loved in the strength of the sun. She is stately, she is\ntall. What sins, what disappointments, what aspirations lie in those grey\neyes, mysteriously still, and mysteriously revealed. These a young man\nlongs to know of, they are his life. He imagines himself sitting by her,\nwhen the others have gone, holding her hand, calling on her name; sometimes\nshe moves away and plays the moonlight sonata. Letting her hands droop upon\nthe keys she talks sadly,", "of him to think of the hostess first, he is in her house,\nthe house is well-furnished, and is suggestive of excellent meats and\nwines). He can read through the slim woman whose black hair, a-glitter with\ndiamonds, contrasts with her white satin; an old man is talking to her, she\ndances with him, and she refused a young man a moment before. This is a bad\nsign; our Lovelace knows it; there is a stout woman of thirty-five, who is\nlooking at him, red satin", "he too wrote--a play. Then follows a period of\ndiscovery of the newest movement in art. So impressionable is he that his\nstay of some years in Paris causes him actually to forget how to write\nEnglish prose, and when he returns to London and has to earn his living at\njournalism he has to learn his native tongue over again. Nevertheless he\nhas acquired a point of view--on women, on art, on life. He\nwrites--criticism, poetry, fiction. He is obscure, ambitious, full of\nself-esteem, that is beginning to be sou", "makes them feel a little sick. It is seven o'clock\nin the morning. Opposite the children are their parents, and they are\ntalking of a novel the world is reading. Did Lady Audley murder her\nhusband? Lady Audley! What a beautiful name; and she, who is a slender,\npale, fairy-like woman, killed her husband. Such thoughts flash through the\nboy's mind; his imagination is stirred and quickened, and he begs for an\nexplanation. The coach lumbers along, it arrives at its destination, and\n", ", the changes\nthat have taken place in my life; and it is only necessary to say that one\nmorning, a few months ago, when my servant brought me some summer honey and\na glass of milk to my bedside, she handed me an unpleasant letter. My\nagent's handwriting, even when I knew the envelope contained a cheque, has\nnever quite failed to produce a sensation of repugnance in me;--so hateful\nis any sort of account, that I avoid as much as possible even knowing how I\nstand at my banker's. Therefore the odour", "\n_café_. As I came forward the waiter moved one of the tin tables, and\nthen I saw the fat Provençal. But just as if he had seen me yesterday he\nsaid, \"_Tiens! c'est vous; une deme tasse? oui ... garçon, une deme\ntasse._\" Presently the conversation turned on Marshall; they had not\nseen much of him lately. \"_Il parait qu'il est plus amoureux que\njamais,_\" Julien replied sardonically.\n\nI found", "\ngenerally tea-things and jam-pots on the table. In a little while he\nbrought a little creature about five feet three to live with him, and when\nthe little creature and the long creature went out together, it was like\nDon Quixote and Sancho Panza setting forth in quest of adventures in the\nland of Strand. The little creature indulged in none of the loud, rasping\naffectation of humour that was so maddening in the long creature; the\nlittle creature was dry, hard, and sterile, and when he did join in", "_marquise_, he answered with an indifferent \"Do you really think so?\"\nand proceeded to drag me away from my glitter of satin to the dinginess of\nprint dresses. It was more than alienation, it was almost separation; but\nhe was still my friend, he was the man, and he always will be, to whom my\nyouth, with all its aspirations, was most closely united. So I turned to\nsay good-bye to him and to my past life. Rap--rap--rap!\n\n\"Who's there?\"\n\n\"I", ", my son; I have always been\na kind father, have I not? answer me; I have never refused you anything.\nNow you will not fail us, you will prove yourself worthy of the great name\nyou bear. Remember your great ancestor who defeated the Moors, remember.'\"\n(Villiers strives to get in a little local colour, but his knowledge of\nSpanish names and history is limited, and he in a certain sense fails.)\n\"Then the mother comes to her son and says, 'My son, I have been a good\nmother, I have always loved you;", "maybe affectionately; she speaks of the tedium of\nlife, of its disenchantments. He knows well what she means, he has suffered\nas she has; but could he tell her, could she understand, that in his love\nreality would dissolve into a dream, all limitations would open into\nboundless infinity.\n\nThe husband he rarely sees. Sometimes a latchkey is heard about half-past\nsix. The man is thick, strong, common; his jaws are heavy; his eyes are\nexpressionless; there is about him the loud swagger of the _", "him. The young man can do no wrong.\nEvery house is open to him, and the best of everything is laid before him;\ngirls dispute the right to serve him; they come to him with cake and wine,\nthey sit circle-wise and listen to him, and when one is fortunate to get\nhim alone she will hang round his neck, she will propose to him, and will\ntake his refusal kindly and without resentment. They will not let him stoop\nto tie up his shoe lace, but will rush and simultaneously claim the right\nto attend on him. To represent in", "I trudge home through\nNovember fogs, to eat a chop in a frouzy lodging-house. I studied the\nhorrible servant as one might an insect under a microscope. \"What an\nadmirable book she would make, but what will the end be? if I only knew the\nend!\" I had more and more difficulty in keeping the fat landlady at arm's\nlength, and the nasty child was well beaten one day for lingering about my\ndoor. I saw poor Miss L. nightly, on the stairs of this infamous house, and\nI never", "name) spoke to me in English. Yes, we had met\nbefore; we had exchanged a few words in So-and-So's studio--the great\nblonde man, whose Doré-like improvisations had awakened aspiration in me.\n\nThe usual reflections on the chances of life were of course made, and then\nfollowed the inevitable \"Will you dine with me to-night?\" Marshall thought\nthe following day would suit him better, but I was very pressing. He\noffered to meet me at my hotel; or would I come with him to his", "you know, a 'man of\niron.' 'Yes, one member of your family shall be respited, but on one\ncondition.' To the agonised family conditions are as nothing. But they\ndon't know the man of iron is determined to make a terrible example, and\nthey cry, 'Any conditions.' 'He who is respited must serve as executioner\nto the others.' Great is the doom; you understand; but after all the name\nmust be saved. Then in the family council the father goes to his youngest\nson and says, 'I have been a good father to you" ], [ "of Shelley, I thought how I should go to Paris when I\nwas of age, and study painting.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nAt last the day came, and with several trunks and boxes full of clothes,\nbooks, and pictures, I started, accompanied by an English valet, for Paris\nand Art.\n\nWe all know the great grey and melancholy Gare du Nord, at half-past six in\nthe morning; and the miserable carriages, and the tall, haggard city. Pale,\nsloppy, yellow houses; an", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "keen and valid criticism of books and pictures,\ndelightful reminiscences and furious dissertations upon morality, the whole\nstory is given a special and, for its time, a rare interest by its utter\nlack of conventional reticence. He never spares himself. He has undertaken\nquite honestly to tell the truth. He has learned from Paris not to be\nashamed of himself. And this, though he had not realized it, was what he\nhad gone to Paris to learn.\n\nHe had put himself instinctively in the way of receiving liberalizing\ninflu", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "well-specified days at\nthe _table d'hôte_. Fifteen years have passed away, and these old\npeople, no doubt, have joined their ancestors; but I can see them still\nsitting in that _salle à manger_; the _buffets en vieux chêne_;\nthe opulent candelabra _en style d'empire_; the waiter lighting the\ngas in the pale Parisian evening. That white-haired man, that tall, thin,\nhatchet-faced American, has dined at this _table d'", "two young men here, one the Count of B----, the other the\nMarquis of G----, one of the best families in France, a distant cousin of\nmy husband. He has written a book which every one says is one of the most\namusing things that has appeared for years, _c'est surtout très\nParisien_. He paid me great attentions, and made my husband wildly\njealous. I used to go out and sit with him amid the rocks, and it was\nperhaps very lucky for me that he went away. We may return there", "! The word rang in my\nears and gleamed in my eyes. France! All my senses sprang from sleep like a\ncrew when the man on the look-out cries, \"Land ahead!\" Instantly I knew I\nshould, that I must, go to France, that I would live there, that I would\nbecome as a Frenchman. I knew not when nor how, but I knew I should go to\nFrance....\n\nThen my father died, and I suddenly found myself heir to considerable\nproperty--some three or four thousands a year; and then I knew that I", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "told my _concierge_ that\nI would return in a month, and I left all to be sold, brutally sold by\nauction, as the letter I read in the last chapter charmingly and touchingly\ndescribes.\n\nNot even to Marshall did I confide my foreboding that Paris would pass out\nof my life, that it would henceforth be with me a beautiful memory, but\nnever more a practical delight. He and I were no longer living together; we\nhad parted a second time, but this time without bitterness of any kind; he\nhad", "Dames_\nis ended for ever for you and me. We shall not see the faun in _terre\ncuite_ again; I was thinking of going to see him the other day, but the\nstreet is so steep; my coachman advised me to spare the horse's hind legs.\nI believe it is the steepest street in Paris. And your luncheon parties,\nhow I did enjoy them, and how Fay did enjoy them too; and what I risked,\nshortsighted as I am, picking my way from the tramcar down to that\nout-", "in terrible slang we shouted a\nbenediction on some \"crib\" that was going to be broken into that evening.\nAnd we thought there was something very thrilling in leaving the Rue de la\nGaieté, returning home to dress, and presenting our spotless selves to the\n_élite_. And we succeeded very well, as indeed all young men do who\nwaltz perfectly and avoid making love to the wrong woman.\n\nBut the excitement of climbing up and down the social ladder did not stave\noff our craving for art; and there came about this time", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "off to study art in Paris--only to find\nafter much effort and heartache that he was a failure as an artist. There\nremained, however, women--and the cafés, with strange poets and\npersonalities to be cultivated and explored. Modelling himself after his\nnewest friend, in attire, manners and morals, he lived what might have been\non the whole an unprofitable and ordinary life, if he had not been able to\ngild it with the glamour of philosophic immoralism. Finally, because\neverybody else was writing,", "ladies whose husbands are abroad happily congregate, I returned to\nParis refreshed.\n\nMarshall and I were no longer on speaking terms, but I saw him daily, in a\nnew overcoat, of a cut admirably adapted to his figure, sweeping past the\nfans and the jet ornaments of the Passage des Panoramas. The coat\ninterested me, and I remembered that if I had not broken with him I should\nhave been able to ask him some essential questions concerning it. Of such\ntrifles as this the sincerest friendships are made;", "able to get up at seven in the\nmorning; and ten hours of work daily are trying to the resolution even of\nthe best intentioned. But we had sworn to forego all pleasures for the sake\nof art--table d'hôtes in the Rue Maubeuge, French and foreign duchesses in\nthe Champs Elysées, thieves in the Rue de la Gaieté.\n\nI was entering therefore on a duel with Marshall for supremacy in an art\nfor which, as has already been said, I possessed", "and unconditionally. He hesitated, however,\nwhen I asked to be taken as a private pupil, but he wrote out the address\nof a studio where he gave instruction every Tuesday morning. This was even\nmore to my taste, for I had an instinctive liking for Frenchmen, and was\nanxious to see as much of them as possible.\n\nThe studio was perched high up in the Passage des Panoramas. There I found\nM. Julien, a typical meridional--the large stomach, the dark eyes, crafty\nand watchful; the seduct" ], [ "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", ", when I\nbegan to write French verse and occasional _chroniques_ in the papers,\nthat the great damage was done. I remember very well indeed one day, while\narranging an act of a play I was writing with a friend, finding suddenly to\nmy surprise that I could think more easily and rapidly in French than in\nEnglish; but with all this I did not learn French. I chattered, and I felt\nintensely at home in it; yes, I could write a sonnet or a ballade almost\nwithout a slip, but my prose required a good deal of alter", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "me a great and real inconvenience. French\nwit was in my brain, French sentiment was in my heart; of the English soul\nI knew nothing, and I could not remember old sympathies, it was like\nseeking forgotten words, and if I were writing a short story, I had to\nreturn in thought to Montmartre or the Champs Elysées for my characters.\nThat I should have forgotten so much in ten years seems incredible, and it\nwill be deemed impossible by many, but that is because few are aware of how\nlittle they know of the details", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "as it\nwere, forgotten everything. Every aspect of street and suburban garden was\nnew to me; of the manner of life of Londoners I knew nothing. This sounds\nincredible, but it is so; I saw, but I could realise nothing. I went into a\ndrawing-room, but everything seemed far away--a dream, a presentment,\nnothing more; I was in touch with nothing; of the thoughts and feelings of\nthose I met I could understand nothing, nor could I sympathise with them:\nan Englishman was at that time as much out of my", "Spanish but in French are the challenges given; the town is in the hands of\nthe French; it is under martial law. But now an officer passes down a\ncertain garden, a Spaniard disguised as a French officer; from the balcony\nthe family--one of the most noble and oldest families Spain can boast of, a\nthousand years, long before the conquest of the Moors--watches him. Well\nthen\"--Villiers sweeps with a white feminine hand the long hair that is\nfalling over his face--he has half forgotten,", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "noon; at night I lay awake thinking of what I might do to attain a\nbetter result. But my efforts availed me nothing; it was like one who,\nfalling, stretches his arms for help and grasps the yielding air. How\nterrible are the languors and yearnings of impotence! how wearing! what an\naching void they leave in the heart! And all this I suffered until the\nburden of unachieved desire grew intolerable.\n\nI laid down my charcoal and said, \"I will never draw or paint again.\" That", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "side of a\nvast abyss, two animals different in colour, form, and temperament;--two\nideas destined to remain irrevocably separate and distinct. I have heard of\nwriting and speaking two languages equally well: this was impossible to me,\nand I am convinced that if I had remained two more years in France I should\nnever have been able to identify my thoughts with the language I am now\nwriting in, and I should have written it as an alien. As it was I only just\nescaped this detestable fate. And it was in the last two years", "'s prose poems! Stay, I remember I have some numbers of _La\nVogue_. One of the numbers contains, I know, \"Forgotten Pages;\" I will\ntranslate word for word, preserving the very rhythm, one or two of these\nminiature marvels of diction:--\n\n\nFORGOTTEN PAGES\n\n\"Since Maria left me to go to another star--which? Orion, Altair, or thou,\ngreen Venus? I have always cherished solitude. What long days I have passed\nalone with my cat.", "often sayest wicked things.\n\n\"(I see the spiders' webs above the lofty windows.)\n\n\"Our wardrobe is very old; see how the fire reddens its sad panels! the\nweary curtains are as old, and the tapestry on the arm-chairs stripped of\npaint, and the old engravings, and all these old things. Does it not seem\nto thee that even these blue birds are discoloured by time?\n\n\"(Dream not of the spiders' webs that tremble above the lofty windows.)\n\n", "I remember nothing. Ten lines, fifty lines of \"La Légende des\nSiècles,\" and I always think that it is the greatest poetry I have ever\nread, but after a few pages I invariably put the book down and forget it.\nHaving composed more verses than any man that ever lived, Hugo can only be\ntaken in the smallest doses; if you repeat any passage to a friend across a\ncafé table, you are both appalled by the splendour of the imagery, by the\nthunder of the syllables.\n", "to, or rather out of which you had\nnever been raised. And you generally answered innocently and naïvely\nenough. But sometimes my words were too crude, and they struck through the\nthick hide into the quick, into the human, and you winced a little; but\nthis was rarely, for you were very nearly, oh, very nearly an animal: your\ntemperament and intelligence was just that of a dog that has picked up a\nmaster, not a real master, but a makeshift master who may turn it out at\nany moment. Dickens would sent", "reader, in showing\nyou my soul I am showing you your own; hypocritical reader, exquisitely\nhypocritical reader, you are my brother, I salute you.\n\nDay passed over day: I lived in that horrible lodging; I continued to\nlabour at my novel; it seemed an impossible task--defeat glared at me from\nevery corner of that frouzy room. My English was so bad, so thin,--stupid\ncolloquialisms out of joint with French idiom. I learnt unusual words and\nstuck them", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "makes them feel a little sick. It is seven o'clock\nin the morning. Opposite the children are their parents, and they are\ntalking of a novel the world is reading. Did Lady Audley murder her\nhusband? Lady Audley! What a beautiful name; and she, who is a slender,\npale, fairy-like woman, killed her husband. Such thoughts flash through the\nboy's mind; his imagination is stirred and quickened, and he begs for an\nexplanation. The coach lumbers along, it arrives at its destination, and\n", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "see the white face\nof that _café_, the white nose of that block of houses, stretching up\nto the Place, between two streets. I can see down the incline of those two\nstreets, and I know what shops are there; I can hear the glass-door of the\n_café_ grate on the sand as I open it. I can recall the smell of every\nhour. In the morning that of eggs frizzling in butter, the pungent\ncigarette, coffee and bad cognac; at five o'clock the fragrant", "\n_Nouvelle Athènes_, unless perhaps to play dominoes like the\n_bourgeois_ over there, not to do anything that would awake a too\nintense consciousness of life,--to live in a sleepy country side, to have a\ngarden to work in, to have a wife and children, to chatter quietly every\nevening over the details of existence. We must have the azaleas out\nto-morrow and thoroughly cleansed, they are devoured by insects; the tame\nrook has flown away; mother lost her prayer-", "oppressive absence of colour; a peculiar\nbleakness in the streets. The _ménagère_ hurries down the asphalte to\nmarket; a dreadful _garçon de café_, with a napkin tied round his\nthroat, moves about some chairs, so decrepit and so solitary that it seems\nimpossible to imagine a human being sitting there. Where are the\nBoulevards? where are the Champs Élysées? I asked myself; and feeling bound\nto apologise for the appearance", "\nlandlady had been telling you what to say. But you had not understood, and\nyour conscious ignorance, grown conscious within the last couple of days,\nwas even more pitiful than your unconscious ignorance when you answered\nthat you couldn't go to church because it made your eyes bad. It is a\nstrange thing to know nothing; for instance, to live in London and to have\nno notion of the House of Commons, nor indeed of the Queen, except perhaps\nthat she is a rich lady; the police--yes, you knew what a policeman was\nbecause you used to be sent to", "well-specified days at\nthe _table d'hôte_. Fifteen years have passed away, and these old\npeople, no doubt, have joined their ancestors; but I can see them still\nsitting in that _salle à manger_; the _buffets en vieux chêne_;\nthe opulent candelabra _en style d'empire_; the waiter lighting the\ngas in the pale Parisian evening. That white-haired man, that tall, thin,\nhatchet-faced American, has dined at this _table d'", "their grief and glee,\n But rioted in pleasant meads\n In the old dear days of Arcady.\n\n The future may be wrong or right,\n The present is distinctly wrong,\n For life and love have lost delight,\n And bitter even is our song;\n And year by year grey doubt grows strong,\n And death is all that seems to dree.\n Wherefore with weary hearts we long\n For the old dear days of Arcady.\n\n ENVOI\n\n Glories and triumphs ne'er shall ce", "\n\nI was eleven years old when I first heard and obeyed this cry, or, shall I\nsay, echo-augury?\n\nScene: A great family coach, drawn by two powerful country horses, lumbers\nalong a narrow Irish road. The ever recurrent signs--long ranges of blue\nmountains, the streak of bog, the rotting cabin, the flock of plover rising\nfrom the desolate water. Inside the coach there are two children. They are\nsmart, with new jackets and neckties; their faces are pale with sleep, and\nthe rolling of the coach", "There are lilacs in the room and the _Mont Valérien_ is\nbeautiful upon a great lemon sky, and the long avenue is merging into\nviolet vapour.\n\n\"We have already begun to think of where we shall go to this year. Last\nyear we went to P----, an enchanting place, quite rustic, but within easy\ndistance of a casino. I had vowed not to dance, for I had been out every\nnight during the season, but the temptation proved irresistible, and I gave\nway. There were", "caserne_;\nand he suggests the inevitable question, Why did she marry him?--a question\nthat every young man of refined mind asks a thousand times by day and ten\nthousand times by night, asks till he is five-and-thirty, and sees that his\ngeneration has passed into middle age.\n\nWhy did she marry him? Not the sea, nor the sky, nor the great mysterious\nmidnight, when he opens his casement and gazes into starry space will give\nhim answer; riddle that no Oedipus will ever come to unravel;", "By alone, I mean without a material being, and my cat is\na mystical companion--a spirit. I can, therefore, say that I have passed\nwhole days alone with my cat, and, alone with one of the last authors of\nthe Latin decadence; for since that white creature is no more, strangely\nand singularly I have loved all that the word _fall_ expresses. In\nsuch wise that my favourite season of the year is the last weary days of\nsummer, which immediately precede autumn, and the hour I choose to walk in\nis when the sun", "outside, and the cocks and hens, and the poplar trees waving in\nthe sunshine, and the old woman sitting in her white cap busy at her homely\nwork.\" Into many wearisome pages these simple lines have since been\nexpanded, without affecting the beauty of the original. \"Will Dampier\nturned his broad back and looked out of the window. There was a moment's\nsilence. They could hear the tinkling of bells, the whistling of the sea,\nthe voices of the men calling to each other in the port, the sunshine\n", "him. The young man can do no wrong.\nEvery house is open to him, and the best of everything is laid before him;\ngirls dispute the right to serve him; they come to him with cake and wine,\nthey sit circle-wise and listen to him, and when one is fortunate to get\nhim alone she will hang round his neck, she will propose to him, and will\ntake his refusal kindly and without resentment. They will not let him stoop\nto tie up his shoe lace, but will rush and simultaneously claim the right\nto attend on him. To represent in" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "noon; at night I lay awake thinking of what I might do to attain a\nbetter result. But my efforts availed me nothing; it was like one who,\nfalling, stretches his arms for help and grasps the yielding air. How\nterrible are the languors and yearnings of impotence! how wearing! what an\naching void they leave in the heart! And all this I suffered until the\nburden of unachieved desire grew intolerable.\n\nI laid down my charcoal and said, \"I will never draw or paint again.\" That", "seen escaping! We are weary of pity, we are\nweary of being good; we are weary of tears and effusion, and our\nrefuge--the British Museum--is the wide sea shore and the wind of the\nocean. There, there is real joy in the flesh; our statues are naked, but we\nare ashamed, and our nakedness is indecency: a fair, frank soul is mirrored\nin those fauns and nymphs; and how strangely enigmatic is the soul of the\nantique world, the bare, barbar", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "rose,\nburdened with great weight of fringes and curtains, the python devoured a\nguinea pig, the last I gave him; the great white cat came to me. I said all\nthis must go, must henceforth be to me an abandoned dream, a something, not\nmore real than a summer meditation. So be it, and, as was characteristic of\nme, I broke with Paris suddenly, without warning anyone. I knew in my heart\nof hearts that I should never return, but no word was spoken, and I\ncontinued a pleasant delusion with myself; I", "sister was almost more than he could bear, and the\nmother had to whisper, 'Remember your promise to your father, to your dead\nfather.' The mother laid her head on the block, but he could not strike.\n'Be not the first coward of our name, strike; remember your promise to us\nall,' and her head was struck off.\"\n\n\"And the son,\" the girl asks, \"what became of him?\"\n\n\"He never was seen, save at night, walking, a solitary man, beneath the\nwalls of his castle in Granada.\"\n\n\"And", ", nothing altered, in Thy ignominious plight, forthward in the\nworld's van the glory and symbol of a man's new idea--Pity. Thy day is\nclosing in, but the heavens are now wider aflame with Thy light than ever\nbefore--Thy light, which I, a pagan, standing on the last verge of the old\nworld, declare to be darkness, the coming night of pity and justice which\nis imminent, which is the twentieth century. The bearers have relinquished\nThy cross, they leave", "with every turn weaker like a hare before the hounds. From a\ncertain directness of construction, from the simple means by which Oak's\nruin is accomplished in the opening chapters, I did not expect that the\nstory would run hare-hearted in its close, but the moment Troy told his\nwife that he never cared for her, I suspected something was wrong; when he\nwent down to bathe and was carried out by the current I knew the game was\nup, and was prepared for anything, even for the final shooting by the rich\nfarmer, and", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", "caserne_;\nand he suggests the inevitable question, Why did she marry him?--a question\nthat every young man of refined mind asks a thousand times by day and ten\nthousand times by night, asks till he is five-and-thirty, and sees that his\ngeneration has passed into middle age.\n\nWhy did she marry him? Not the sea, nor the sky, nor the great mysterious\nmidnight, when he opens his casement and gazes into starry space will give\nhim answer; riddle that no Oedipus will ever come to unravel;", "moonlight of the Place Pigale, and through the dark shadows of the streets,\ntalking of the last book published, he hanging on to my arm, speaking in\nthat high febrile voice of his, every phrase luminous, aerial, even as the\nsoaring moon and the fitful clouds. Duranty, an unknown Stendal, will come\nin for an hour or so; he will talk little and go away quietly; he knows,\nand his whole manner shows that he knows that he is a defeated man; and if\nyou ask him why he does not write", "\n_Nouvelle Athènes_, unless perhaps to play dominoes like the\n_bourgeois_ over there, not to do anything that would awake a too\nintense consciousness of life,--to live in a sleepy country side, to have a\ngarden to work in, to have a wife and children, to chatter quietly every\nevening over the details of existence. We must have the azaleas out\nto-morrow and thoroughly cleansed, they are devoured by insects; the tame\nrook has flown away; mother lost her prayer-", "\nvow I have kept.\n\nSurrender brought relief, but my life seemed at an end. I looked upon a\nblank space of years desolate as a grey and sailless sea. \"What shall I\ndo?\" I asked myself, and my heart was weary and hopeless. Literature? my\nheart did not answer the question at once. I was too broken and overcome by\nthe shock of failure; failure precise and stern, admitting of no\nequivocation. I strove to read: but it was impossible to sit at home almost\nwithin earshot of the studio, and" ], [ "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "rooms, _cafés_, the models in the studio\nand the young girls painting, and Marshall, Alice, and Julien.\nMarshall!--my thoughts pointed at him through the intervening streets and\nthe endless procession of people coming and going.\n\n\"M. Marshall, is he at home?\" \"M. Marshall left here some months ago.\" \"Do\nyou know his address?\" \"I'll ask my husband.\" \"Do you know M. Marshall's\naddress!\" \"Yes, he's gone to live in the Rue de Douai.\" \"What number?\" \"", "an old cabinet, a\nfaded pastel which embalms the memory of a pastoral century, my taste; or\nwill it be a library,--two leather library chairs, a large escritoire,\netc.? Be this as it may, whether the apartments be the ruthless\nextravagance of artistic impulse, or the subdued taste of the student, she,\nthe woman of thirty, shall be there by night and day: her statue is there,\nand even when she is sleeping safe in her husband's arms with fevered brow,\nhe, the young man", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", ". In\nanother room you faced an altar, a Buddhist temple, a statue of the Apollo,\nand a bust of Shelley. The bedrooms were made unconventual with cushioned\nseats and rich canopies; and in picturesque corners there were censers,\ngreat church candlesticks, and palms; then think of the smell of burning\nincense and wax and you will have imagined the sentiment of our apartment\nin Rue de la Tour des Dames. I bought a Persian cat, and a python that made\na monthly meal off gu", "he was as necessary to\nme as I to him, and after some demur on his part a reconciliation was\neffected.\n\nThen I took an _appartement_ in one of the old houses in Rue de la\nTour des Dames, for the windows there overlooked a bit of tangled garden\nwith a few dilapidated statues. It was Marshall of course who undertook the\ntask of furnishing, and he lavished on the rooms the fancies of an\nimagination that suggested the collaboration of a courtesan of high degree\nand a fifth-", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "out\nof the sky.\n\nNow we seemed to live in fiacres and restaurants, and the afternoons were\nfilled with febrile impressions. Marshall had a friend in this street, and\nanother in that. It was only necessary for him to cry \"Stop\" to the\ncoachman, and to run up two or three flights of stairs....\n\n\"_Madame--, est-elle chez elle?_\"\n\n\"_Oui, Monsieur; si Monsieur veut se donner la peine d'entrer._\" And\nwe were shown into a", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "see the white face\nof that _café_, the white nose of that block of houses, stretching up\nto the Place, between two streets. I can see down the incline of those two\nstreets, and I know what shops are there; I can hear the glass-door of the\n_café_ grate on the sand as I open it. I can recall the smell of every\nhour. In the morning that of eggs frizzling in butter, the pungent\ncigarette, coffee and bad cognac; at five o'clock the fragrant", "a very decisive\nevent in our lives. Marshall's last and really _grande passion_ had\ncome to a violent termination, and monetary difficulties forced him to turn\nhis thoughts to painting as a means of livelihood. This decided me. I asked\nhim to come and live with me, and to be as near our studio as possible, I\ntook an _appartement_ in the Passage des Panoramas. It was not\npleasant that your window should open, not to the sky, but to an unclean\nprospect of glass roofing; nor was it agree", "of dust. \"The gentlemen\nare not here to-day, the studio is closed; I am sweeping up.\" \"Oh, and\nwhere is M. Julien?\" \"I cannot say, sir: perhaps at the _café_, or\nperhaps he is gone to the country.\" This was not very encouraging, and now,\nmy enthusiasm thoroughly damped, I strolled along _le Passage_,\nlooking at the fans, the bangles and the litter of cheap trinkets that each\nwindow was filled with. On the left at the corner of the Boulevard was our", "her beautiful drawing-room, all composed by, and all\nbelonging to her. Her chair is placed beneath an evergreen plant, and the\nlong leaves lean out as if to touch her neck. The great white and red roses\nof the _d'aubusson_ carpet are spread enigmatically about her feline\nfeet; a grand piano leans its melodious mouth to her; and there she sits\nwhen her visitors have left her, playing Beethoven's sonatas in the dreamy\nfirelight. The spring-tide shows but a bloom of", "handsomely furnished apartment. A lady would enter\nhurriedly, and an animated discussion was begun. I did not know French\nsufficiently well to follow the conversation, but I remember it always\ncommenced _mon cher ami_, and was plentifully sprinkled with the\nphrase _vous avez tort_. The ladies themselves had only just returned\nfrom Constantinople or Japan, and they were generally involved in\nmysterious lawsuits, or were busily engaged in prosecuting claims for\nseveral millions of francs against different foreign governments.\n\nAnd", "do I; I have done so, and I regret nothing except that some infernal\nfarmers and miners will not pay me what they owe me and enable me to\ncontinue the life that was once mine, and of which I was so bright an\nornament. How I hate this atrocious Strand lodging-house, how I long for my\napartment in _Rue de la Tour des Dames_, with all its charming\nadjuncts, palms and pastels, my cat, my python, my friends, blond hair and\ndark.\n\nIt was not long before I", "wearied of talking to her of her hopes and ambitions, of the young\nman she admired. She used to ask me about my novel.\n\nPoor Miss L.! Where is she? I do not know, but I shall not forget the time\nwhen I used to listen for her footstep on the midnight stairs. Often I was\ntoo despondent, when my troubles lay too heavily and darkly upon me, I let\nher go up to her garret without a word. Despondent days and nights when I\ncried, Shall I never pass from this lodging? shall", "cent\nadmiration. He spoke of, and he was clearly on familiar terms with, the\nfashionable restaurants and actresses; he stopped at a hairdresser's to\nhave his hair curled. All this was very exciting, and a little bewildering.\nI was on the tiptoe of expectation to see his apartments; and, not to be\nutterly outdone, I alluded to my valet.\n\nHis apartments were not so grand as I expected; but when he explained that\nhe had just spent ten thousand pounds in two years, and was now living on", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "inea pigs; Marshall, who did not care for pets, filled\nhis rooms with flowers--he used to sleep beneath a tree of gardenias in\nfull bloom. We were so, Henry Marshall and Edwin Dayne, when we went to\nlive in 76, Rue de la Tour des Dames, we hoped for the rest of our lives.\nHe was to paint, I was to write.\n\nBefore leaving for the seaside I had bought some volumes of Hugo and De\nMusset; but in pleasant, sunny Boulogne poetry went flat, and it was not\nuntil", "stream. He was an ideal pupil. It was Marshall here, it was\nMarshall there, and soon the studio was little but an agitation in praise\nof him, and his work, and anxious speculation arose as to the medals he\nwould obtain. I continued the struggle for nine months. I was in the studio\nat eight in the morning; I measured my drawing; I plumbed it throughout; I\nsketched in, having regard to _la jambe qui porte_; I modelled _par\nles masses_. During breakfast I considered how I should work during the\nafter", "this time I\nhated and had partly forgotten my native language--\n\n\"My dear Dayne, you always write about love, the subject is nauseating.\"\n\n\"So it is, so it is; but after all Baudelaire wrote about love and lovers;\nhis best poem....\"\n\n\"_C'est vrai, mais il s'agissait d'une charogne et cela relève beaucoup\nla chose._\"\n\nI remember, too, a few stray snatches of thy extraordinary music, \"music\nthat might", ", he managed, with a kind of instinctive\nself-protection, to avoid learning enough even to be an officer. He turned\nfirst in this direction and then in that, in his efforts to escape. The\nrace-track furnished one diversion for his unhappy energies, books of\npoetry another. Then he met a painter who painted and loved sumptuous and\nbeautiful blondes, whereupon art and women became the new centers of his\nlife, and Paris, where both might be indulged in, his great ambition. Given\npermission and an allowance, he set", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "nondescript who leaned his evening away against the\ncounter, and was supposed to know some one who knew Lord ----'s footman,\nand the great man often spoken of, but rarely seen--he who made \"a\ntwo-'undred pound book on the Derby\"; and the constant coming and going of\nthe cabmen--\"Half an ounce of shag, sir.\" I was then at a military tutor's\nin the Euston Road; for, in answer to my father's demand as to what\noccupation I intended to pursue, I had consented", "caserne_;\nand he suggests the inevitable question, Why did she marry him?--a question\nthat every young man of refined mind asks a thousand times by day and ten\nthousand times by night, asks till he is five-and-thirty, and sees that his\ngeneration has passed into middle age.\n\nWhy did she marry him? Not the sea, nor the sky, nor the great mysterious\nmidnight, when he opens his casement and gazes into starry space will give\nhim answer; riddle that no Oedipus will ever come to unravel;", "not live without an ever-present and acute consciousness of\nlife? Why could I not love, forgetful of the harsh ticking of the clock in\nthe perfumed silence of the chamber?\n\nAnd so my friend became to me a study, a subject for dissection. The\ngeneral attitude of his mind and its various turns, all the apparent\ncontradictions, and how they could be explained, classified, and reduced to\none primary law, were to me a constant source of thought. Our confidences\nknew no reserve. I say our confidences, because to obtain confidences", "was expelled\nwhen I was sixteen, for idleness and general worthlessness. I returned to a\nwild country home, where I found my father engaged in training racehorses.\nFor a nature of such intense vitality as mine, an ambition, an aspiration\nof some sort was necessary; and I now, as I have often done since, accepted\nthe first ideal to hand. In this instance it was the _stable_. I was\ngiven a hunter, I rode to hounds every week, I rode gallops every morning,\nI read the racing calendar, stud-", "means were taken to protect ourselves against interlopers, one who had not\npassed the preliminary stage of straddling would occasionally slip through\nour defences. I remember one especially. It was a hot summer's day, we were\nall on the counter, our legs swinging, when an enormous young man entered.\nHe must have been six feet three in height. He was shown into Mr. B.'s\nroom, he asked him to read a MS., and he fled, looking very frightened.\n\"Wastepaper basket, wastepaper basket,\" we shouted when Mr. B.", "hour, he had already sketched in his figure, and with all the\nsurroundings--screens, lamps, stoves, etc. I was deeply interested. I asked\nthe young lady next me if she knew who he was. She could give me no\ninformation. But at four o'clock there was a general exodus from the\nstudio, and we adjourned to a neighbouring _café_ to drink beer. The\nway led through a narrow passage, and as we stooped under an archway, the\nyoung man (Marshall was his", "makes them feel a little sick. It is seven o'clock\nin the morning. Opposite the children are their parents, and they are\ntalking of a novel the world is reading. Did Lady Audley murder her\nhusband? Lady Audley! What a beautiful name; and she, who is a slender,\npale, fairy-like woman, killed her husband. Such thoughts flash through the\nboy's mind; his imagination is stirred and quickened, and he begs for an\nexplanation. The coach lumbers along, it arrives at its destination, and\n", "\ngenerally tea-things and jam-pots on the table. In a little while he\nbrought a little creature about five feet three to live with him, and when\nthe little creature and the long creature went out together, it was like\nDon Quixote and Sancho Panza setting forth in quest of adventures in the\nland of Strand. The little creature indulged in none of the loud, rasping\naffectation of humour that was so maddening in the long creature; the\nlittle creature was dry, hard, and sterile, and when he did join in", "--and they were many--was not unserviceable;\nit developed the natural man, who educates himself, who allows his mind to\ngrow and ripen under the sun and wind of modern life, in contra-distinction\nto the University man, who is fed upon the dust of ages, and after a\nformula which has been composed to suit the requirements of the average\nhuman being.\n\nNor was my reading at this time so limited as might be expected from the\nforegoing. The study of Shelley's poetry had led me to read pretty nearly\nall the English lyric po", "-eyed,\nbeautiful Celt, attainted in blood and brain by generations of famine and\ndrink, alternating with the fervid sensuousness of the girl, her Saxon\nsense of right alternating with the Celt's hereditary sense of revenge, his\ndreamy patriotism, his facile platitudes, his acceptance of literature as a\nsort of bread basket, his knowledge that he is not great nor strong, and\ncan do nothing in the world but love his country; and as he passes his\nthirtieth year the waxing strong of the" ], [ "--Dayne.\"\n\n\"I've got a model.\"\n\n\"Never mind your model. Open the door. How are you? what are you painting?\"\n\n\"This; what do you think of it?\"\n\n\"It is prettily composed. I think it will come out all right. I am going to\nEngland; come to say good-bye.\"\n\n\"Going to England! What will you do in England?\"\n\n\"I have to go about money matters; very tiresome. I had really begun to\nforget there was such a place.\"\n\n\"", "an obscure something, living in an obscure\nlodging in London. Had Marshall suspected the truth he would have said\npityingly, \"My dear Dayne, how can you be so foolish? why will you not be\ncontented to live?\" etc.... Such homilies would have been maddening; he was\nsuccessful, I was not; I knew there was not much in him, _un feu de\npaille_, no more, but what would I not have done and given for that\n_feu de paille_? So I was obliged to conceal my real", "\nhim, and continues in his abrupt, uncertain way), \"man of iron; not only he\ndeclares that the spy must be beheaded, but also the entire family--a man\nof iron that, ha, ha; and then, no you cannot, it is impossible for you to\nunderstand the enormity of the calamity--a thousand years before the\nconquest by the Moors, a Spaniard alone could--there is no one here, ha,\nha, I was forgetting--the utter extinction of a great family of the name,\nthe oldest and noblest", "say you will not desert us in this hour of\nour great need.' Then the little sister comes, and the whole family kneels\ndown and appeals to the horror-stricken boy....\n\n\"'He will not prove himself unworthy of our name,' cries the father. 'Now,\nmy son, courage, take the axe firmly, do what I ask you, courage, strike\nstraight.' The father's head falls into the sawdust, the blood all over the\nwhite beard; then comes the elder brother, and then another brother; and\nthen, oh, the little", "you know, a 'man of\niron.' 'Yes, one member of your family shall be respited, but on one\ncondition.' To the agonised family conditions are as nothing. But they\ndon't know the man of iron is determined to make a terrible example, and\nthey cry, 'Any conditions.' 'He who is respited must serve as executioner\nto the others.' Great is the doom; you understand; but after all the name\nmust be saved. Then in the family council the father goes to his youngest\nson and says, 'I have been a good father to you", "feeling of to-day, might be definitely\nevolved. It is our only chance of again possessing a dramatic literature.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nIt is said that young men of genius come to London with great poems and\ndramas in their pockets and find every door closed against them.\nChatterton's death perpetuated this legend. But when I, Edward Dayne, came\nto London in search of literary adventure, I found a ready welcome.\nPossibly I should not have been accorded any welcome had I been anything\nbut an ordinary person. Let this be", "destiny was to fall that others might rise upon\nthee, thou wert one of the noble legion of the conquered; let praise be\ngiven to the conquered, for the brunt of victory lies with the conquered.\nChild of the pavement, of strange sonnets and stranger music, I remember\nthee; I remember the silk shirts, the four sous of Italian cheese, the roll\nof bread, and the glass of milk;--the streets were thy dining-room. And the\nfive-mile walk daily to the suburban music hall where five francs were", "with every turn weaker like a hare before the hounds. From a\ncertain directness of construction, from the simple means by which Oak's\nruin is accomplished in the opening chapters, I did not expect that the\nstory would run hare-hearted in its close, but the moment Troy told his\nwife that he never cared for her, I suspected something was wrong; when he\nwent down to bathe and was carried out by the current I knew the game was\nup, and was prepared for anything, even for the final shooting by the rich\nfarmer, and", "says the age we live in. The penny paper that may\nbe bought everywhere, that is allowed to lie on every table, prints seven\nor eight columns of filth, for no reason except that the public likes to\nread filth; the poet and novelist must emasculate and destroy their work\nbecause.... Who shall come forward and make answer? Oh, vile, filthy, and\nhypocritical century, I at least scorn you.\n\nBut this is not a course of literature but the story of the artistic\ndevelopment of me, Edward Dayne; so I will", "sister was almost more than he could bear, and the\nmother had to whisper, 'Remember your promise to your father, to your dead\nfather.' The mother laid her head on the block, but he could not strike.\n'Be not the first coward of our name, strike; remember your promise to us\nall,' and her head was struck off.\"\n\n\"And the son,\" the girl asks, \"what became of him?\"\n\n\"He never was seen, save at night, walking, a solitary man, beneath the\nwalls of his castle in Granada.\"\n\n\"And", "noon; at night I lay awake thinking of what I might do to attain a\nbetter result. But my efforts availed me nothing; it was like one who,\nfalling, stretches his arms for help and grasps the yielding air. How\nterrible are the languors and yearnings of impotence! how wearing! what an\naching void they leave in the heart! And all this I suffered until the\nburden of unachieved desire grew intolerable.\n\nI laid down my charcoal and said, \"I will never draw or paint again.\" That", "of all the families in Spain, it is not easy to\nunderstand that, no, not easy here in the 'Nouvelle Athènes'--ha, ha, one\nmust belong to a great family to understand, ha, ha.\n\n\"The father beseeches; he begs that one member may be spared to continue\nthe name--the youngest son--that is all; if he could be saved, the rest\nwhat matter; death is nothing to a Spaniard; the family, the name, a\nthousand years of name is everything. The general is,", "ever poor and unknown? Because of something too\nmuch, or something too little? Because of something too much! so I think,\nat least; thy heart was too full of too pure an ideal, too far removed from\nall possible contagion with the base crowd.\n\nBut, Cabaner, thou didst not labour in vain; thy destiny, though obscure,\nwas a valiant and fruitful one; and, as in life, thou didst live for others\nso now in death thou dost live in others. Thou wert in an hour of wonder\nand strange", "he seek to rid himself of her by marriage), a bitter sweet, a\nhalf-welcome enchantment; she shall consume and destroy the strength and\nspirit of his life, leaving it desolation, a barren landscape, burnt and\nfaintly scented with the sea. Fame and wealth shall slip like sand from\nhim. She may be set aside for the cadence of a rhyme, for the flowing line\nof a limb, but when the passion of art has raged itself out, she shall\nreturn to blight the peace of the worker.\n\nA terrible malady", "my friend in large furnished apartments on the ground floor in the\nRue Duphot. The walls were stretched with blue silk, there were large\nmirrors and great gilt cornices. Passing into the bedroom I found the young\ngod wallowing in the finest of fine linen--in a great Louis XV. bed, and\nthere were cupids above him. \"Holloa! what, you back again, Dayne? we\nthought we weren't going to see you again.\"\n\n\"It's nearly one o'clock: get up. What's the news?\"", "This is a magical _tête-à-tête_, such a one as\nwill never happen in your life again; therefore I say let us put off all\ncustomary disguise, let us be frank: you have been angrily asking,\nexquisitely hypocritical reader, why you have been _forced_ to read\nthis record of sinful life; in your exquisite hypocrisy, you have said over\nand over again what good purpose can it serve for a man to tell us of his\nunworthiness unless, indeed, it is", "caserne_;\nand he suggests the inevitable question, Why did she marry him?--a question\nthat every young man of refined mind asks a thousand times by day and ten\nthousand times by night, asks till he is five-and-thirty, and sees that his\ngeneration has passed into middle age.\n\nWhy did she marry him? Not the sea, nor the sky, nor the great mysterious\nmidnight, when he opens his casement and gazes into starry space will give\nhim answer; riddle that no Oedipus will ever come to unravel;", "ignorantly,\nsavagely, for two thousand years, but nevertheless nearing every day the\nend--the end that Thou in Thy divine intelligence foresaw, that finds its\nvoice to-day (enormous though the antithesis may be, I will say it) in the\n_Pall Mall Gazette_. What fate has been like Thine? Betrayed by Judas\nin the garden, denied by Peter before the cock crew, crucified between\nthieves, and mourned for by a harlot, and then sent bound and bare, nothing\nchanged", "ies; the boy going forth to conquer the\nworld, the girl remaining at home to conquer herself; the mighty river\nholding the fate of all, playing and dallying with it for a while, and\nbearing it on at last to final and magnificent extinction. That sense of\nthe inevitable which had the Greek dramatists wholly, which had George\nEliot sufficiently, that rhythmical progression of events, rhythm and\ninevitableness (two words for one and the same thing) is not there. Elly's\ngolden head, the back", "\n\nI was eleven years old when I first heard and obeyed this cry, or, shall I\nsay, echo-augury?\n\nScene: A great family coach, drawn by two powerful country horses, lumbers\nalong a narrow Irish road. The ever recurrent signs--long ranges of blue\nmountains, the streak of bog, the rotting cabin, the flock of plover rising\nfrom the desolate water. Inside the coach there are two children. They are\nsmart, with new jackets and neckties; their faces are pale with sleep, and\nthe rolling of the coach" ] ]

[ "Which French names does the confessor feel are bound up in the theories he studies?", "What did the confessor believe in the grammar of?", "What does the confessor admit courageously to concerning his career towards the end?", "What are enticements of the flesh not more powerful than?", "Where does the confessor go at the end of the story?", "What does the confessor strive to be?", "Where did the confessor go as a teenager?", "What does the confessor nearly forget after 15 years?", "Who is the confessor of the story?", "What country did Dayne move to as a teenager?", "What does Dayne learn he is not destined to be?", "What language does Dayne almost forget after 15 years?", "Where does Dayne lodge in London?", "What captivates Dayne in particular about Paris in the beginning?", "Where does Dayne relocate to after Paris?", "Why does Dayne move from Paris?", "What is Dayne's former opinion about art?", "What is the name of the protagonist?", "How old was Dayne when he went to Paris?", "What language does Dayne forget?", "What is the environment that Dayne lives in called?", "Where does Dayne flee to?", "Where is Dayne's apartment located?", "What does Dayne study?", "What is Dayne's destiny?" ]

[ [ "Flaubert, Goncourts, Zola, Degas, and Manet", "Flaubert, Goncourts, Zola, Degas, and Manet" ], [ "The grammar of art", "art, perspective, anatomy, and la jambe qui forte" ], [ "That his efforts to be a painter had been misdirected. ", "He was not meant to be a painter" ], [ "The enticement of art", "Art." ], [ "London, to a lodging on the Strand", "London" ], [ "A painter.", "Honest" ], [ "Paris, France", "Paris" ], [ "The English language", "The english language" ], [ "Dayne", "Dayne." ], [ "Paris", "France." ], [ "A painter", "A painter." ], [ "English", "English." ], [ "In the Strand", "The Strand." ], [ "It is the perfect place for a young man who loves art", "\"Vie de Bohme\"" ], [ "London", "London." ], [ "Adverse reasons", "Unspecified adverse circumstances." ], [ "It was simply an emotion", "He loved it" ], [ "Dayne", "Dayne" ], [ "teen", "A teenager" ], [ "English", "none" ], [ "Le Vie Boheme", "Naked women" ], [ "London", "London" ], [ "On the strand", "Paris." ], [ "art and literature", "Art" ], [ "Not to be an artist", "Something besides painting" ] ]

[ [ "'s court appointed\n attorney...\n \n JUDGE LEE\n I know, Stu, I appointed him.\n \n THATCHER\n Yeah, well that hardly qualifies\n him to be Leo's Guardian. What's\n the motivation here?\n \n Thatcher is turning up the heat. He obviously wants Poplar.\n Mike is starting to feel it.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Mike?\n \n Mike looks back at Leo who is trying to un", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", "ab, no frills courtroom. JUDGE LEE is seated on\n the bench looking over some documents.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 18\n CONTINUED:\n \n Mike is sitting next Leo. Seated at the next table is STU\n THATCHER, ATTORNEY FOR THE OFFICE OF PUBLIC GUARDIAN. Mike is\n tapping his pen.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Any", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", ", Mike, can I ask you something?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. What?\n \n KYLE\n Leo told me that some Judge made\n him move into that place. Is that\n true or is he just making that up?\n \n Mike wasn't expecting this.\n \n MIKE\n No. That's true, pal.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIP", " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", "\n You know the transcript alone is\n enough to hang you.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, we'll see what happens.\n \n Eleanor just looks at him, Judge and Jury. Mike blinks.\n \n ELEANOR\n Shame on you counselor.\n \n MIKE\n Is that it?\n \n ELEANOR\n No. My client would like to talk to\n you.\n \n Mike and Eleanor walk over to", ", SECURITY DESK - LATER.\n \n Leo walks through the metal detector. Mike watches him and\n then walks through himself but something beeps. The guards\n stops Mike. Leo starts to wander away.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Leo. Leo hold on!\n (to the Guard)\n Can you stop him, please?\n \n \n INT. UNION COUNTY COURT HOUSE, COURTROOM - LATER.\n \n It's a very dr", "\n \n JACKIE\n No. He slept at Stemler's. How\n about you?\n \n MIKE\n Oak Knoll.\n (BEAT)\n You're right, that's not who I am.\n \n JACKIE\n So what are you going to do?\n \n MIKE\n I have to go court.\n \n JACKIE\n You can't. You told the Judge you\n were keeping Leo at home.", "for the\n call?\n \n MIKE\n No. I really don't.\n \n \n EXT. BUSINESS CENTER - DAY.\n \n Mike walks into the brick and glass tower.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Look, we're all concerned with\n what's best for Leo so I'm hoping\n we can settle this in an amicable\n way.\n \n \n INT. ELEANOR COHEN'S OFF", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", "screw the cap on\n his water bottle, completely uninterested in the proceedings.\n He makes a decision.\n \n MIKE\n Your Honor, Leo told me he wants\n to live at home. He has the money\n to do that and I want to make sure\n that happens. If the State can do\n that then fine.\n \n THATCHER\n Counsel knows we can't do that,\n your Honor.\n (MORE)\n 5/15/10 - FULL S", "\n LEO\n I don't need a new place. I have a\n house. I'm not fancy that way.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 22\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n I know. But I need you to stay in\n this new place for a while. It's\n nice. You'll like it.\n \n LEO\n Is that what the judge said?\n ", ":\n \n MIKE\n Well I'm not sure that's what Leo\n wants.\n \n CINDY\n I already talked to him about it.\n He seem to like the idea.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that, Cindy. But you\n haven't seen Leo in a long time and\n he's battling dementia now so it\n puts me in a tough position here.\n \n ELEANOR\n She is the presumed Guardian,", "it's that bad.\n \n TERRY\n Just take her to court, you'll kill\n her.\n \n MIKE\n I can't.\n \n TERRY\n Why not? She's a freaking mess.\n You're a pillar of the community,\n Mike.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't go back in front of\n Judge Lee, it won't look good,\n trust me.\n \n T", "FILE. He opens the file and see's the\n PAMPHLET FOR OAK KNOLL. He flips through the file and lands\n on a particular page and a particular line item.\n \n Monthly Commission: $1,508.00.\n \n \n EXT. UNION COUNTY COURT HOUSE - DAY\n \n Mike walks with Leo Poplar up the steps of the courthouse.\n \n \n INT. UNION COUNTY COURT HOUSE", "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "to freak her\n out.\n \n TERRY\n Good call. So we just need a new\n strategy, that's all. What about\n that Judge that's always throwing\n work your way? Can't she help you\n out?\n \n MIKE\n Judge Lee, yeah. If it wasn't for\n her I'd probably be out of business\n already. I just need more.\n \n TERRY\n Is there anything else you can do\n for money?\n" ], [ " MIKE\n Good. I got stuck at the office\n with a client.\n \n Jackie walks in from the other room, gives Mike a kiss.\n \n JACKIE\n I know, Shelly called. Oh, I\n dropped off the fan at Leo's today.\n \n MIKE\n Thanks for doing that.\n \n Mike heads upstairs.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n I'll be right back down.\n \n JACKIE\n ", "\n Jackie looks at Mike. From the mouths of babes.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, HALLWAY - LATER\n \n Mike knocks on Leo's door. After a moment, Leo opens it.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Leo, you have a visitor.\n \n LEO\n Who? Him?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 27\n", " JACKIE\n Mike?\n \n Mike can't answer. Kyle's seen enough.\n \n KYLE\n You're just like her.\n \n He runs out. They all give chase.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike runs outside and see's Kyle crossing the lawn. He\n quickly catches up to him. Terry and Jackie follow close\n behind.\n \n ", "chair\n watching TV.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n There he is!\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Watching TV.\n \n TERRY\n What's he watching?\n \n JACKIE\n Who cares?\n \n MIKE\n Leo? Hey Leo?\n \n Mike knocks on the window. Leo doesn't register it.\n \n MI", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle! Stop! Please!\n \n He doesn't stop. Jackie turns to Mike.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Is that true, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, it is.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n So why'd you move him if he wanted\n to stay here.\n \n MIKE\n Because it would have been too much\n work to", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", "\n \n JACKIE\n No. He slept at Stemler's. How\n about you?\n \n MIKE\n Oak Knoll.\n (BEAT)\n You're right, that's not who I am.\n \n JACKIE\n So what are you going to do?\n \n MIKE\n I have to go court.\n \n JACKIE\n You can't. You told the Judge you\n were keeping Leo at home.", "pa. I missed you so much.\n Can I have a hug, baby?\n \n Kyle looks at Leo who just shrugs. Finally, he walks toward\n her but then veers away and runs from the room.\n \n LEO\n Where's he going?\n \n CINDY\n Oh, he's just had to go somewhere,\n Dad. Do you want some juice?\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, LIVING ROOM - NIGHT", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", "car carrying AN OLD TV SET. He puts it\n into the back of his car which is packed with ITEMS from\n Leo's house.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S CAR - LATER.\n \n Mike and Leo are driving.\n \n LEO\n Are we going to the park?\n \n MIKE\n No. We're not, Leo. I'm gonna help\n you get settled into a new place to\n live right here in town.\n ", "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", " \n LEO\n Come on in.\n \n Leo walks away. They all follow him.\n \n TERRY\n OK. That is very creepy.\n \n \n INT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - SAME.\n \n They walk into the house following Leo into the living room.\n He sits back in his chair and start watching TV again.\n \n MIKE\n You OK, Leo?\n \n Leo just watches TV.\n ", "'S HOUSE, KITCHEN - LATER.\n \n Jackie it the sink. Stella is eating. Mike is sitting at\n the table with a beer.\n \n JACKIE\n What? She doesn't even know us!\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well I think she heard that\n I'm a lawyer and I have a family\n and that was good enough.\n \n JACKIE\n For how long?\n \n MIKE\n Another month,", ".\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n You OK?\n \n Mike shrugs.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What are we gonna do, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n There's nothing to do. I can't stop\n her. She's gonna leave and she's\n gonna take Kyle and Leo with her.\n \n JACKIE\n And you don't think you'd beat her\n in court?\n ", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", "s house. She moving in this\n morning.\n \n Kyle thinks.\n \n KYLE\n I'll go see her at Leo's before\n practice. But I want to go alone.\n \n MIKE\n (HESITANT)\n Yeah, that's OK but Kyle but you\n have to promise me...\n \n KYLE\n Don't worry, Mike. I'll go.\n \n Mike turns and spots his OLD NEIGHBOR watching", " CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n KYLE\n Hi.\n \n LEO\n Come on in. I'll turn off the TV.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, LEO'S ROOM - SAME.\n \n Leo turns off the TV and then turns and looks at Kyle. He\n doesn't recognize him.\n \n MIKE\n This is", "MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n (Re: the Young Man)\n Who's that?\n \n MIKE\n No idea.\n \n Mike gets out of the car.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - LATER\n \n Mike walks up the front walk. The YOUNG MAN is listening to\n his Ipod and smoking a cigarette. Mike approaches and waves.\n The YOUNG MAN removes his", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro" ], [ " \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, COMMUNAL ROOM - DAY.\n \n Kyle sitting in the communal room at a table with Leo. Kyle\n is doing homework. Leo is staring out the window. Court TV is\n playing in the background.\n \n LEO\n You're mother didn't want to come?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n LEO\n She's a tough kid that one. She", "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", "their head to the music.\n \n Kyle looks up at Jackie, Shelly and kids who are also rocking\n out in the stands.\n \n \n EXT. PARK - DAY.\n \n Kyle and Jackie walk through a park with Leo.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGH SCHOOL, HALLWAY - DAY.\n \n The wrestling team sprints through the empty hallways.\n \n \n INT. STEMLER'S HOUSE - D", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", "(CONT'D)\n Hey, you sure we should do this?\n \n MIKE\n Why not? Whether he's here for two\n more days or two weeks it gives him\n something to do all day. Unless you\n want him hanging out here?\n \n JACKIE\n OK. Go.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN OFFICE - DAY.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting. After a moment, STEVE DELUCA", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", "KE\n It was the police. They have Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What? Why?\n \n MIKE\n Breaking and entering.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n What?\n \n \n EXT. POLICE STATION - LATER.\n \n Mike and Kyle walk out of the New Providence Police Station.\n \n MIKE\n So what happened?\n \n KYLE\n ", "\n tell you bad things about me?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. But I never believe her\n anyway.\n \n LEO\n You should, she's your mother.\n Respect that.\n (Pointng to the TV)\n Can you turn that down? I hate that\n judge. I wouldn't be in this place\n if it wasn't for her.\n \n KYLE\n But this place is pretty nice.\n 5/15/10 - FULL", " \n Jackie is waiting. Kyle is on the hot seat. Mike is watching.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle?\n \n Kyle can barely look at her.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n We can't help you if you don't tell\n us what's going on. Is there a\n reason you don't want to go home?\n \n Kyle remains silent.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What happened to your eye, Kyle?", "ACKIE (CONT'D)\n You don't have to tell me. It's\n alright.\n \n They keep walking. Jackie grabs a box of tacos from the\n shelf.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Do you like tacos?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n Me, too. I make a mean taco.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGH SCHOOL,", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", "\n I'm living with Craig.\n \n JACKIE\n Who's Craig?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 35\n CONTINUED:\n \n KYLE\n Her boyfriend, I guess, but he's an\n asshole.\n \n JACKIE\n Does she even know you're here?\n \n KYLE\n My mom? She doesn't care about me.", " KYLE\n It's just my mother and me. She's\n back in Columbus. She couldn't\n come.\n \n JACKIE\n So how did you get here?\n \n KYLE\n Bus.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? All by yourself?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n Wow.\n \n ABBY\n That sounds like a big deal.\n ", "s house. She moving in this\n morning.\n \n Kyle thinks.\n \n KYLE\n I'll go see her at Leo's before\n practice. But I want to go alone.\n \n MIKE\n (HESITANT)\n Yeah, that's OK but Kyle but you\n have to promise me...\n \n KYLE\n Don't worry, Mike. I'll go.\n \n Mike turns and spots his OLD NEIGHBOR watching", "\n Mike?\n \n Jackie lifts her leg.\n \n JACKIE\n Nope. JBJ.\n \n Jackie lifts her leg exposing her tatoo. Kyle smiles.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN GYM - DAY.\n \n The Pioneers race out onto the mat to do warm-ups before a\n home match. They are fired up. There are more fans in the\n stands. Terry and Vig bob", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Did you reach your mom?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. I told her I was coming home.\n \n JACKIE\n Did she want to talk to me or\n anything?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Well, I'm sorry you can't stay\n longer but maybe you can come back\n with your mom and visit again.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.", "this Jackie Flaherty.\n Kyle is staying with us. Hello?\n (She closes the phone)\n I'm gonna kill that lady.\n \n She sets the phone down and turns. Kyle is standing on the\n stairs. His hair is wet and he's carrying his towel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hi. I heard your phone ringing\n and...\n \n KYLE\n You answered it?\n \n JACKIE\n Yeah,", "NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, LOCKER ROOM - DAY.\n \n Kyle takes off his shirt and stands on the scale wearing only\n his underwear. He's lean and muscular. He has a TATOO on his\n right arm and PAIR OF WINGS TATOO on his shoulder blades.\n \n VIGMAN\n Jesus! Look at those tats.\n \n TERRY\n This kid is just fricking cool.\n \n REF\n Timmons.", " \n Mike blows his whistle again and Kyle goes on the offensive.\n He gives Carlos a quick head fake and before Carlos knows\n what's happened, Kyle has grabbed his ankle and tripped him\n down to the mat.\n \n Carlos looks shocked. Kyle pops back up but stays focused on\n Carlos. Mike looks to Vigman who raises an eyebrow,\n impressed. One thing is certain, Kyle can wrestle.\n \n \n EXT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT -" ], [ " MIKE\n Hey, it's alright.\n \n Mike puts his arm on his shoulder and Kyle starts to cry.\n Mike squeezes him.\n \n KYLE\n I don't want to go with her. I\n don't.\n \n MIKE\n OK, pal. OK.\n \n \n EXT. UNION HIGH SCHOOL, PARKING LOT - LATER.\n \n Mike, Terry and Kyle walk out of the school.", " MIKE\n Don't worry about it. You ever\n wrestle before?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n Vigman is already running the team through a drill.\n \n VIGMAN\n Get that ankle. Get that ankle!\n Time!\n \n MIKE\n Hey Vig. Alright, guys, listen up!\n Kyle's going to be working out with\n us for a little while.\n \n STEMLER\n ", ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", " \n Mike blows his whistle again and Kyle goes on the offensive.\n He gives Carlos a quick head fake and before Carlos knows\n what's happened, Kyle has grabbed his ankle and tripped him\n down to the mat.\n \n Carlos looks shocked. Kyle pops back up but stays focused on\n Carlos. Mike looks to Vigman who raises an eyebrow,\n impressed. One thing is certain, Kyle can wrestle.\n \n \n EXT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT -", "(CONT'D)\n Hey, you sure we should do this?\n \n MIKE\n Why not? Whether he's here for two\n more days or two weeks it gives him\n something to do all day. Unless you\n want him hanging out here?\n \n JACKIE\n OK. Go.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN OFFICE - DAY.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting. After a moment, STEVE DELUCA", ". Jackie barely moves.\n \n MIKE\n It was Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Working out.\n \n JACKIE\n Is he gonna do it every morning?\n \n MIKE\n In season. Yeah.\n \n Beat.\n \n JACKIE\n I hate you.\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n \n INT.", "action. Kyle gets up and Mike checks in with him.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey! You OK?\n \n KYLE\n (SLIGHT SMILE)\n Yeah.\n \n Kyle gets into the bottom position.\n \n VIGMAN\n Did he smile?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I think he did.\n \n TERRY\n Good. That's good, right?\n \n The Ref blows", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", "IE'S HOUSE, KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike walks into the kitchen. Kyle is drinking water.\n \n MIKE\n Were you outside?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. I went for a run.\n \n MIKE\n It's pretty early. You do this\n every morning?\n \n KYLE\n In season, yeah. I like to get my\n run in early and then drill some\n moves for an hour", "MIKE\n Hey. Hey, Kyle.\n \n Kyle keeps walking.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey can you hold on a second?\n \n KYLE\n Leave me alone!\n \n MIKE\n Kyle please.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 109\n CONTINUED:\n \n Mike grabs Kyle one more time. Kyle rips his arm away and\n ", "as you are?\n What's it feel like?\n \n KYLE\n I don't know. I guess it just feels\n like I'm in control. Of everything.\n You know what I mean?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I do. Must be nice.\n \n KYLE\n It is.\n \n \n INT. UNION HIGHSCHOOL - DAY\n \n The DISTRICT TOURNAMENT. Kyle is ahead in points", "\n Kyle head pumps. Mike takes the bait and jumps back.\n MIKE TERRY\n Kyle wait... Watch the head fake!\n \n MIKE\n Kyle I don't want to wrestle you.\n \n JACKIE TERRY\n Kyle, stop for a minute. Keep your hands out, Mike.\n Hands out.\n \n JACKIE\n Terry, stop it!\n \n TERRY\n I'm just trying to help.\n ", "NIGHT.\n \n Kyle and Mike are walking toward the car.\n \n MIKE\n You have fun?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n When's the last time you wrestled?\n \n KYLE\n A couple years ago.\n \n MIKE\n Why'd you stop?\n \n KYLE\n Just felt like it.\n \n Kyle just shrugs and Mike let's it go", " Mike and Cindy are driving.\n \n MIKE\n I'm really sorry about this.\n \n CINDY\n That's okay. Thanks.\n \n MIKE\n You know Kyle's doing really well\n with wrestling here, Cindy. The\n regions are this weekend and if he\n wins there then he goes to the\n states.\n \n CINDY\n That's great.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. It is and", "\n Mike?\n \n Jackie lifts her leg.\n \n JACKIE\n Nope. JBJ.\n \n Jackie lifts her leg exposing her tatoo. Kyle smiles.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN GYM - DAY.\n \n The Pioneers race out onto the mat to do warm-ups before a\n home match. They are fired up. There are more fans in the\n stands. Terry and Vig bob", " \n MIKE\n Uh, OK.\n \n Mike cuffs Kyle on the side of the head gear.\n \n KYLE\n Can you do it harder?\n \n Mike slaps him hard. And Kyle sprints to the mat and takes\n his stance.\n \n The Ref blows the whistle and the wrestlers circle each\n other. The OTHER WRESTLER is clearly on the offensive.\n \n TERRY\n Come on, Kyle. Take this punk out", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", " TERRY (CONT'D)\n What's he doing?\n \n VIGMAN\n Losing.\n \n MIKE\n It's his first match. Give him a\n break.\n \n The Other Wrestler is relentless. Kyle keeps trying to get up\n and the kid keeps breaking him down. Kyle stands up and Other\n Wrestler slams him to the mat. Kyle is getting beat up.\n \n The two Wrestlers go out of bounds and the Ref stops the\n " ], [ "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", " \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, COMMUNAL ROOM - DAY.\n \n Kyle sitting in the communal room at a table with Leo. Kyle\n is doing homework. Leo is staring out the window. Court TV is\n playing in the background.\n \n LEO\n You're mother didn't want to come?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n LEO\n She's a tough kid that one. She", " CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n KYLE\n Hi.\n \n LEO\n Come on in. I'll turn off the TV.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, LEO'S ROOM - SAME.\n \n Leo turns off the TV and then turns and looks at Kyle. He\n doesn't recognize him.\n \n MIKE\n This is", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Fired? For what?\n \n KYLE\n I don't know. He just fired me.\n \n JACKIE\n I think I have to meet this Leo.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. He's a pretty funny dude.\n \n JACKIE\n You have any home work?\n \n KYLE\n A little but I already did it.\n \n JACKIE\n ", "s house. She moving in this\n morning.\n \n Kyle thinks.\n \n KYLE\n I'll go see her at Leo's before\n practice. But I want to go alone.\n \n MIKE\n (HESITANT)\n Yeah, that's OK but Kyle but you\n have to promise me...\n \n KYLE\n Don't worry, Mike. I'll go.\n \n Mike turns and spots his OLD NEIGHBOR watching", "\n Yeah. Your grandfather is in the\n early stages of dementia, Kyle. So\n sometimes he does things and says\n things that don't make sense.\n \n KYLE\n Are you a friend of his or\n something?\n \n MIKE\n I'm his guardian.\n \n KYLE\n What's that mean?\n \n MIKE\n It means I make sure he's well\n taken care of.\n \n KY", "he got a call\n from a college scout about me.\n \n LEO\n Oh.\n \n VOICE (O.S.)\n Hi baby.\n \n A THIRTY-EIGHT YEAR OLD WOMAN standing in the door way. This\n is CINDY TIMMONS. Kyle's mother.\n \n KYLE\n What are you doing here?\n \n CINDY\n I came to get you, honey. And to\n see Grand", "T - WIN WIN 67\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Well because they can take good\n care of him there, Kyle.\n \n Mike's phone rings.\n \n KYLE\n But he wants to live at home.\n \n MIKE\n I know, pal. Hang on a minute.\n (Into cell phone)\n Hello? Yes. This is him.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Can you", "Leo?\n \n Mike looks to Shelly who just shrugs.\n \n MIKE\n Uh...yeah...OK. You know where it\n is?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. Just down the street.\n \n MIKE\n OK, yeah. Just stay there and I'll\n pick you up at about three.\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Kyle shuts the door. Mike looks at Shelly.\n \n S", "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", "\n tell you bad things about me?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. But I never believe her\n anyway.\n \n LEO\n You should, she's your mother.\n Respect that.\n (Pointng to the TV)\n Can you turn that down? I hate that\n judge. I wouldn't be in this place\n if it wasn't for her.\n \n KYLE\n But this place is pretty nice.\n 5/15/10 - FULL", "anything to cause it then I will\n never forgive myself. I know how\n much wrestling means to you, baby.\n \n KYLE\n Is that why you called me. Just to\n tell me that?\n \n CINDY\n No. I also wanted to say that I'll\n do whatever you think is best for\n Leo. I promise.\n \n KYLE\n Then leave him here. Where he is.\n \n CINDY\n OK. I will. If", ", Mike, can I ask you something?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. What?\n \n KYLE\n Leo told me that some Judge made\n him move into that place. Is that\n true or is he just making that up?\n \n Mike wasn't expecting this.\n \n MIKE\n No. That's true, pal.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIP" ], [ "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", "Mike)\n I'd like to discuss this with my\n client, Mr. Flaherty.\n \n CINDY\n What's to discuss? I'm not taking\n care of him if I'm not getting\n anything for it.\n \n ELEANOR\n Cindy, please.\n (TO MIKE)\n We're finished here.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike gets up and walks out. A smile creeps across his face.", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", "long. Do you think we could\n stay in my dad's house?\n \n This is not what Mike wanted but he's stuck.\n \n MIKE\n Uhh...yeah. We could probably make\n that work.\n \n CINDY\n Then, yeah, I could stay.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Good. That's great.\n \n Mike's phone rings.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey.\n ", " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", "\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n It didn't sound like that the other\n day. It sounded like you hated the\n guy.\n \n CINDY\n You have no idea what my father\n used to be like. No idea! He wasn't\n like he is now! He treated me like\n shit and he was all I had!\n \n MIKE\n So now you want to return the\n favor? Is that it?!\n \n CIND", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", " Mike and Cindy are driving.\n \n MIKE\n I'm really sorry about this.\n \n CINDY\n That's okay. Thanks.\n \n MIKE\n You know Kyle's doing really well\n with wrestling here, Cindy. The\n regions are this weekend and if he\n wins there then he goes to the\n states.\n \n CINDY\n That's great.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. It is and", "\n MIKE\n No. I don't.\n \n JACKIE\n Why? It's so obvious she's just\n wants him for the money.\n \n Mike turns to Jackie. He wants to tell her but just can't.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't win this one, Jackie.\n Trust me.\n \n Jackie misinterprets Mike's guilt for pain. She backs off.\n \n JACKIE\n I do.\n ", "him.\n \n OLD NEIGHBOR\n Hi Mike.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Betty. How's the foot?\n \n BETTY\n Better.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE, BATHROOM - DAY.\n \n Mike is attempting to plunge the toilet. Shelly approaches\n him.\n \n SHELLY\n Mike? Cindy's here.\n \n MIKE\n", "MIKE\n Yeah. I actually brought you a\n copy.\n \n Mike reaches into his briefcase and puts the A COPY OF THE\n WILL on Eleanor's desk.\n \n CINDY\n Who did he leave it too? Did he\n leave it to Kyle?!\n \n MIKE\n No.\n \n CINDY\n Then who? You?\n \n MIKE\n No. He left everything to the\n municipal parks system. He wanted\n the", " \n JACKIE\n And who pays for that?\n \n MIKE\n He does. It comes out of his estate\n and he can afford it. Trust me.\n \n JACKIE\n I don't get it. You've never done\n it before.\n \n MIKE\n No I haven't.\n \n JACKIE\n So why are you doing it now?\n \n MIKE\n It's just...the right thing to do", "10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 118\n CONTINUED:\n \n CINDY\n And you'll send me the checks?\n \n MIKE\n Every month.\n \n CINDY\n You take good care of him.\n \n MIKE\n We will.\n \n Cindy nods.\n \n CINDY\n I want to say goodbye.\n \n Mike", "'ll take care of him for free\n and I'll send you the check every\n month. On one condition.\n \n CINDY\n What's that?\n \n MIKE\n You leave Kyle here. With us. Until\n he finishes high school.\n \n CINDY\n I'm his mother. He belongs with me.\n \n MIKE\n Are you sure he feels that way?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCR", "Jackie and Mike share a look. Then Jackie caves and slides\n over next to her.\n \n JACKIE\n Oh hey...these things happen,\n Cindy. And we've loved having him.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 84\n CONTINUED:\n \n Mike rolls his eyes. So much for beating the crap out of her.\n Abby walks upstairs.\n \n MIKE\n Hi, honey", "\n CINDY\n I want to see my son!\n \n MIKE\n Then call him! You have his number!\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BACK PORCH - DUSK.\n \n Mike sits on the back porch nursing a beer. Terry stands in\n the yard facing away from him.\n \n TERRY\n We were right there, Mike. Right\n fucking there. And now we have\n nothing. Nothing!\n ", "IPT - WIN WIN 99\n CONTINUED:\n \n CINDY\n Don't tell me what my son feels!\n He's coming with me and there isn't\n anything you can do about that.\n \n MIKE\n Then you can't have that\n commission.\n \n CINDY\n We'll see about that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, we will.\n \n Mike turns and walks away.\n ", "but it's\n made out to you and not the firm.\n \n MIKE\n Right. I'll take that.\n \n Mike gets up and takes the check.\n \n SHELLY\n Shouldn't I deposit it in the\n business account?\n \n MIKE\n No. It's not a legal fee. It's a\n personal fee.\n \n SHELLY\n For what?\n \n He puts on his coat.\n", "Mr\n Flaherty.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that.\n \n ELEANOR\n And we do hope to avoid litigation.\n \n MIKE\n So do I and I'm sure we can. Now,\n I'm sorry, but I actually have to\n go see a client so we'll have to\n set up another time to discuss\n this.\n \n CINDY\n Kyle's still coming to see me\n today, right?\n ", " Really? Did she say why?\n \n SHELLY\n No. But she's here with an\n attorney.\n \n Mike gets up and opens the door to his office. Eleanor and\n Cindy stand to greet him.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy. Hi, I'm Mike Flaherty.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 88\n CONTINUED:\n " ], [ "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", "Mike)\n I'd like to discuss this with my\n client, Mr. Flaherty.\n \n CINDY\n What's to discuss? I'm not taking\n care of him if I'm not getting\n anything for it.\n \n ELEANOR\n Cindy, please.\n (TO MIKE)\n We're finished here.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike gets up and walks out. A smile creeps across his face.", " \n JACKIE\n And who pays for that?\n \n MIKE\n He does. It comes out of his estate\n and he can afford it. Trust me.\n \n JACKIE\n I don't get it. You've never done\n it before.\n \n MIKE\n No I haven't.\n \n JACKIE\n So why are you doing it now?\n \n MIKE\n It's just...the right thing to do", " MIKE\n I'm not just helping out the old\n man, Ter. It's not like it's\n charity work. I'm getting paid for\n it.\n \n TERRY\n No. Shit, everyone gets paid, but\n think about it, Mike. What are the\n chances that this kid ends up on\n your door step and he can wrestle\n like that? It's a sign, pal.\n \n This lands with Mike. Terry sits down at his computer.\n \n", " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", "long. Do you think we could\n stay in my dad's house?\n \n This is not what Mike wanted but he's stuck.\n \n MIKE\n Uhh...yeah. We could probably make\n that work.\n \n CINDY\n Then, yeah, I could stay.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Good. That's great.\n \n Mike's phone rings.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey.\n ", "\n MIKE\n No. I don't.\n \n JACKIE\n Why? It's so obvious she's just\n wants him for the money.\n \n Mike turns to Jackie. He wants to tell her but just can't.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't win this one, Jackie.\n Trust me.\n \n Jackie misinterprets Mike's guilt for pain. She backs off.\n \n JACKIE\n I do.\n ", "but it's\n made out to you and not the firm.\n \n MIKE\n Right. I'll take that.\n \n Mike gets up and takes the check.\n \n SHELLY\n Shouldn't I deposit it in the\n business account?\n \n MIKE\n No. It's not a legal fee. It's a\n personal fee.\n \n SHELLY\n For what?\n \n He puts on his coat.\n", "\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n JACKIE\n So then tell her you changed your\n mind. No one can question that.\n \n MIKE\n I can't, Jack.\n \n JACKIE\n Why not?\n \n MIKE\n Because it's not true.\n \n JACKIE\n Well I'm glad your done lying now,\n just in time to lose your practice.\n That's how we survive", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", " \n MIKE\n What the hell am I gonna do?\n Bartend? I'm a lawyer, Ter. I\n practice law.\n MIKE (CONT'D) TERRY\n And it's not like I'm some I know.\n scumbag. I help old people\n for Christ sake. No offense\n but your pal, Finley doesn't\n give a crap about anything\n but making money.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. But that's why he makes it.\n", "to ask me if I want an\n antique sewing table that we bought\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Do you?\n \n TERRY\n No. I want my fucking house back!\n \n MIKE\n Is she still with that guy?\n \n TERRY\n You mean my contractor? The guy I\n hired? Yeah, she is. I can just\n picture that little scumbag walking\n around my house wearing his tool\n belt. Here.\n ", "\n \n EXT. MIKE'S OFFICE, PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike parks his car as a WORKMAN walks up from the basement of\n the house and gets into his VAN and pulls away.\n \n Mike gets out of his car and walks toward the back door\n carrying his briefcase. He stops at the basement steps.\n \n MIKE\n Vig?\n \n VOICE\n Down here.\n \n Mike walks down", ".\n \n Terry tries to help him but it's only seems to annoy Mike.\n \n MIKE TERRY\n Get off me! Just lie down.\n \n MIKE\n No! It's wet. I don't want to lie\n down.\n \n TERRY\n Who cares? You might be dying. Are\n you cold? Do you feel cold?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm lying on the ground.\n \n TERR", "MIKE\n Yeah. I actually brought you a\n copy.\n \n Mike reaches into his briefcase and puts the A COPY OF THE\n WILL on Eleanor's desk.\n \n CINDY\n Who did he leave it too? Did he\n leave it to Kyle?!\n \n MIKE\n No.\n \n CINDY\n Then who? You?\n \n MIKE\n No. He left everything to the\n municipal parks system. He wanted\n the", "it's that bad.\n \n TERRY\n Just take her to court, you'll kill\n her.\n \n MIKE\n I can't.\n \n TERRY\n Why not? She's a freaking mess.\n You're a pillar of the community,\n Mike.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't go back in front of\n Judge Lee, it won't look good,\n trust me.\n \n T", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", " MIKE (CONT'D)\n That's right. She's not and she\n doesn't and that's my play.\n \n TERRY\n What's your play?\n \n Mike takes out his phone and dials.\n \n MIKE\n Don't worry about it. I just need\n to make a call. Can you get\n practice started?\n \n TERRY\n Really? You want me to slap your\n face? Get you psyched up" ], [ ".\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle! Stop! Please!\n \n He doesn't stop. Jackie turns to Mike.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Is that true, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, it is.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n So why'd you move him if he wanted\n to stay here.\n \n MIKE\n Because it would have been too much\n work to", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", "'S HOUSE, KITCHEN - LATER.\n \n Jackie it the sink. Stella is eating. Mike is sitting at\n the table with a beer.\n \n JACKIE\n What? She doesn't even know us!\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well I think she heard that\n I'm a lawyer and I have a family\n and that was good enough.\n \n JACKIE\n For how long?\n \n MIKE\n Another month,", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", " In the basement with Abby.\n (BEAT)\n This is crazy.\n \n MIKE\n Yes, it is. So what do we do?\n \n JACKIE\n We let him stay. I don't know, do\n we even have a choice?\n \n MIKE\n I guess we don't.\n \n \n EXT. NEW JERSEY COUNTRY SIDE - DAY\n \n A school bus drives through the New Jersey Farm", "- LATER.\n \n Kyle is sitting on the back steps and smoking a cigarette.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting up in bed. His wheels are spinning.\n \n JACKIE (O.S.)\n We don't have a choice now.\n \n MIKE\n So what are we gonna do? Adopt him?\n \n Jackie walks into the room putting on", ". Jackie barely moves.\n \n MIKE\n It was Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Working out.\n \n JACKIE\n Is he gonna do it every morning?\n \n MIKE\n In season. Yeah.\n \n Beat.\n \n JACKIE\n I hate you.\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n \n INT.", "Jackie and Mike share a look. Then Jackie caves and slides\n over next to her.\n \n JACKIE\n Oh hey...these things happen,\n Cindy. And we've loved having him.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 84\n CONTINUED:\n \n Mike rolls his eyes. So much for beating the crap out of her.\n Abby walks upstairs.\n \n MIKE\n Hi, honey", " MIKE\n Good. I got stuck at the office\n with a client.\n \n Jackie walks in from the other room, gives Mike a kiss.\n \n JACKIE\n I know, Shelly called. Oh, I\n dropped off the fan at Leo's today.\n \n MIKE\n Thanks for doing that.\n \n Mike heads upstairs.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n I'll be right back down.\n \n JACKIE\n ", " JACKIE\n Mike?\n \n Mike can't answer. Kyle's seen enough.\n \n KYLE\n You're just like her.\n \n He runs out. They all give chase.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike runs outside and see's Kyle crossing the lawn. He\n quickly catches up to him. Terry and Jackie follow close\n behind.\n \n ", ".\n \n Mike is watching Stella who is playing on the ground. Jackie\n comes up from the basement.\n \n MIKE\n How is he?\n \n JACKIE\n He's upset. I don't blame him. It's\n weird that she just shows up like\n that.\n (Checking her watch)\n And of course she's late, the\n druggie.\n \n MIKE\n Honey. Can you stop, please?\n \n", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", " \n MIKE\n Wow. He's gonna throw him. Look,\n he's setting him up. He's setting\n him up!\n \n Mike and Terry explode. They high five and hug.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, FOYER - MORNING.\n \n Kyle is standing, waiting. Jackie walks out with her purse.\n \n JACKIE\n Here's five dollars for lunch. I\n have no idea what", " TERRY\n Good one, Coach! See, it's already\n fun.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - NIGHT.\n \n Jackie is hanging laundry. She hears a phone ringing from the\n laundry room. She peeks around the corner and sees that Kyle\n is not there. She crosses to his phone and picks it up. It\n reads \"Mom\". She answers it.\n \n JACKIE\n Hello? Hello,", "\n \n Jackie shuts the door. Mike looks up at the tree.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Shit.\n \n \n INT. DUNKIN' DONUTS - LATER.\n \n Mike pays for his coffee and bagel and starts to leave. He\n nods to a group of FIVE OLD MEN who wave him over. He tries\n to keep moving but they continue to engage him. Finally he\n joins the table. The group shares a laugh.\n ", "to the side\n of the house for me?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n MIKE\n Thanks, pal.\n \n He runs inside.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - CONTINOUS.\n \n Mike drops his briefcase and takes off his coat.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Honey.\n \n JACKIE (O.S.)\n How was work?\n \n ", "The entire\n family is waiting for them. Jackie gives Kyle a big hug. Abby\n takes his hand. They all get into their car. Mike is just\n about to get in but then he sees Cindy standing by her car\n watching. He shuts his door and crosses to her.\n \n MIKE\n Why are you here?\n \n CINDY\n I wanted to see my son wrestle.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well your son had a pretty\n good chance to do something special", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", " INT. OUR LADY OF PEACE CHURCH- MORNING.\n \n AN ENORMOUS CRUCIFIX hangs over the alter. A COLLECTION\n BASKET is passed from person to person. Abby deposits TWO\n DOLLARS into the basket and looks up at Mike. He smiles.\n \n \n EXT. OUR LADY OF PEACE CHURCH - LATER.\n \n Jackie and Stella are waiting in the parking lot. Mike is\n lag" ], [ " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", " \n Mike takes the picture. Terry takes the blackberry back.\n \n MIKE\n Don't send it.\n \n TERRY\n Too late. I hate her.\n \n They start to walk.\n \n MIKE\n Maybe you should move back into the\n city? Get a new job. Shake it up a\n bit.\n \n TERRY\n Nah. Finley called me. He's\n starting up a new fund out here in\n May", "Mike)\n I'd like to discuss this with my\n client, Mr. Flaherty.\n \n CINDY\n What's to discuss? I'm not taking\n care of him if I'm not getting\n anything for it.\n \n ELEANOR\n Cindy, please.\n (TO MIKE)\n We're finished here.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike gets up and walks out. A smile creeps across his face.", " \n MIKE\n What the hell am I gonna do?\n Bartend? I'm a lawyer, Ter. I\n practice law.\n MIKE (CONT'D) TERRY\n And it's not like I'm some I know.\n scumbag. I help old people\n for Christ sake. No offense\n but your pal, Finley doesn't\n give a crap about anything\n but making money.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. But that's why he makes it.\n", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", " MIKE\n I'm not just helping out the old\n man, Ter. It's not like it's\n charity work. I'm getting paid for\n it.\n \n TERRY\n No. Shit, everyone gets paid, but\n think about it, Mike. What are the\n chances that this kid ends up on\n your door step and he can wrestle\n like that? It's a sign, pal.\n \n This lands with Mike. Terry sits down at his computer.\n \n", ".\n \n Terry tries to help him but it's only seems to annoy Mike.\n \n MIKE TERRY\n Get off me! Just lie down.\n \n MIKE\n No! It's wet. I don't want to lie\n down.\n \n TERRY\n Who cares? You might be dying. Are\n you cold? Do you feel cold?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm lying on the ground.\n \n TERR", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "He leaves.\n \n \n EXT. BUS STATION - LATER.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting for the bus. Mike pulls out his\n wallet.\n \n MIKE\n Here's fifty bucks in case you need\n it.\n \n Mike counts his cash.\n \n KYLE\n I have money.\n \n MIKE\n Actually it's only forty-three but\n take it. You never know.\n \n ", "\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n JACKIE\n So then tell her you changed your\n mind. No one can question that.\n \n MIKE\n I can't, Jack.\n \n JACKIE\n Why not?\n \n MIKE\n Because it's not true.\n \n JACKIE\n Well I'm glad your done lying now,\n just in time to lose your practice.\n That's how we survive", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", " INT. OUR LADY OF PEACE CHURCH- MORNING.\n \n AN ENORMOUS CRUCIFIX hangs over the alter. A COLLECTION\n BASKET is passed from person to person. Abby deposits TWO\n DOLLARS into the basket and looks up at Mike. He smiles.\n \n \n EXT. OUR LADY OF PEACE CHURCH - LATER.\n \n Jackie and Stella are waiting in the parking lot. Mike is\n lag", " \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER\n \n Mike is eating lunch at his desk. He hears a noise and looks\n out the back window and see's Vigman pulling a LARGE ROLL OF\n PLASTIC TARP out of the trunk of his car.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 9\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE, BATHROOM - LATER\n \n", "(CONT'D)\n Hey, you sure we should do this?\n \n MIKE\n Why not? Whether he's here for two\n more days or two weeks it gives him\n something to do all day. Unless you\n want him hanging out here?\n \n JACKIE\n OK. Go.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN OFFICE - DAY.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting. After a moment, STEVE DELUCA", "ging. Why the hell you\n think I'm doing this?\n \n TERRY\n Jesus. That scared the shit out of\n me. What are you so stressed about,\n Mike?\n \n MIKE\n (SHEEPISH)\n I don't know. Work. Money.\n Everything.\n \n TERRY\n Is it that bad?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. It is. I don't know how much\n longer I can keep my practice", "MIKE\n Yeah. I actually brought you a\n copy.\n \n Mike reaches into his briefcase and puts the A COPY OF THE\n WILL on Eleanor's desk.\n \n CINDY\n Who did he leave it too? Did he\n leave it to Kyle?!\n \n MIKE\n No.\n \n CINDY\n Then who? You?\n \n MIKE\n No. He left everything to the\n municipal parks system. He wanted\n the", "\n \n Jackie shuts the door. Mike looks up at the tree.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Shit.\n \n \n INT. DUNKIN' DONUTS - LATER.\n \n Mike pays for his coffee and bagel and starts to leave. He\n nods to a group of FIVE OLD MEN who wave him over. He tries\n to keep moving but they continue to engage him. Finally he\n joins the table. The group shares a laugh.\n ", "\n \n EXT. MIKE'S OFFICE, PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike parks his car as a WORKMAN walks up from the basement of\n the house and gets into his VAN and pulls away.\n \n Mike gets out of his car and walks toward the back door\n carrying his briefcase. He stops at the basement steps.\n \n MIKE\n Vig?\n \n VOICE\n Down here.\n \n Mike walks down", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n", "\n He takes a hard look himself in the mirror, almost as if he's\n steeling himself for something.\n \n Mike smiles.\n \n \n INT. BAR - NIGHT.\n \n Terry walks in and crosses to the bar. He sits down.\n \n TERRY\n Can I get a banana daiquiri,\n please?\n \n The Bartender turns. It's Mike.\n \n MIKE\n Sure.\n \n Mike opens" ], [ " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", "'s court appointed\n attorney...\n \n JUDGE LEE\n I know, Stu, I appointed him.\n \n THATCHER\n Yeah, well that hardly qualifies\n him to be Leo's Guardian. What's\n the motivation here?\n \n Thatcher is turning up the heat. He obviously wants Poplar.\n Mike is starting to feel it.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Mike?\n \n Mike looks back at Leo who is trying to un", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", ":\n \n MIKE\n Well I'm not sure that's what Leo\n wants.\n \n CINDY\n I already talked to him about it.\n He seem to like the idea.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that, Cindy. But you\n haven't seen Leo in a long time and\n he's battling dementia now so it\n puts me in a tough position here.\n \n ELEANOR\n She is the presumed Guardian,", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", ", Mike, can I ask you something?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. What?\n \n KYLE\n Leo told me that some Judge made\n him move into that place. Is that\n true or is he just making that up?\n \n Mike wasn't expecting this.\n \n MIKE\n No. That's true, pal.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIP", "?\n \n MIKE\n (CASUALLY)\n What? Oh, because I'm his guardian.\n \n JACKIE\n What? Since when?\n \n \n MIKE ABBY\n Just last week. Mommy, I want a bagel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n That's a big deal, Mike. Were you\n even gonna tell me?\n MIKE JACKIE\n It's not a big", "\n \n JACKIE\n No. He slept at Stemler's. How\n about you?\n \n MIKE\n Oak Knoll.\n (BEAT)\n You're right, that's not who I am.\n \n JACKIE\n So what are you going to do?\n \n MIKE\n I have to go court.\n \n JACKIE\n You can't. You told the Judge you\n were keeping Leo at home.", "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", "are\n spinning. He seizes his moment.\n \n MIKE\n Your Honor, if it pleases the\n Court.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Yes, Mr. Flaherty?\n \n MIKE\n I would be willing to serve as Mr.\n Poplar's guardian.\n \n THATCHER\n (Stopping.)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n THATCHER\n How long have", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", ", Mike, you're sorry.\n Everyone's always sorry.\n \n MIKE\n I moved Leo back home, Kyle. And\n I'm gonna fight to keep him there.\n \n KYLE\n It's too late. You'll lose. My\n mother's gonna take him.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 115\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Maybe but I", "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", "Leo?\n \n Mike looks to Shelly who just shrugs.\n \n MIKE\n Uh...yeah...OK. You know where it\n is?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. Just down the street.\n \n MIKE\n OK, yeah. Just stay there and I'll\n pick you up at about three.\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Kyle shuts the door. Mike looks at Shelly.\n \n S", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n " ], [ "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", " \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, COMMUNAL ROOM - DAY.\n \n Kyle sitting in the communal room at a table with Leo. Kyle\n is doing homework. Leo is staring out the window. Court TV is\n playing in the background.\n \n LEO\n You're mother didn't want to come?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n LEO\n She's a tough kid that one. She", " KYLE\n It's just my mother and me. She's\n back in Columbus. She couldn't\n come.\n \n JACKIE\n So how did you get here?\n \n KYLE\n Bus.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? All by yourself?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n Wow.\n \n ABBY\n That sounds like a big deal.\n ", "\n TERRY (O.S.)\n Hey. Kyle's here.\n \n MIKE\n Really?\n (TO CINDY)\n We found him.\n \n \n INT. TERRY'S CONDO - SAME.\n \n Terry looks into the other room. Kyle is playing on the Wii.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. We're playing Wii Golf. I'm\n destroying him. Dude, this kid\n really hates his mother", "\n I'm living with Craig.\n \n JACKIE\n Who's Craig?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 35\n CONTINUED:\n \n KYLE\n Her boyfriend, I guess, but he's an\n asshole.\n \n JACKIE\n Does she even know you're here?\n \n KYLE\n My mom? She doesn't care about me.", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", "!\n \n Mike looks at Jackie.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Kyle, listen -\n \n KYLE\n I want to be alone.\n \n MIKE\n What?\n \n KYLE\n (Without looking at them)\n I JUST WANT TO BE DOWN HERE ALONE!\n \n MIKE\n OK. All right. Yeah.\n \n Jackie and Mike turn and start to walk upstairs but Jackie\n stops.\n ", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", " TERRY\n Good one, Coach! See, it's already\n fun.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - NIGHT.\n \n Jackie is hanging laundry. She hears a phone ringing from the\n laundry room. She peeks around the corner and sees that Kyle\n is not there. She crosses to his phone and picks it up. It\n reads \"Mom\". She answers it.\n \n JACKIE\n Hello? Hello,", "s house. She moving in this\n morning.\n \n Kyle thinks.\n \n KYLE\n I'll go see her at Leo's before\n practice. But I want to go alone.\n \n MIKE\n (HESITANT)\n Yeah, that's OK but Kyle but you\n have to promise me...\n \n KYLE\n Don't worry, Mike. I'll go.\n \n Mike turns and spots his OLD NEIGHBOR watching", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/", " \n Terry screams. It's a primal scream. Mike just looks at him.\n \n MIKE\n You OK?\n \n TERRY\n No.\n \n Terry drinks. Mike watches him. Jackie pops out from the\n kitchen.\n \n JACKIE\n Mike, your mom's here and dinner's\n almost ready. Have you seen Kyle?\n \n MIKE\n He's not in the basement?\n 5/15/10", "\n \n JACKIE\n How do you know? She's probably\n worried sick and just doesn't know\n how to reach you.\n \n Kyle reaches into his pocket and takes out his cell phone.\n \n KYLE\n She could've called, right?\n \n The sincerity of his question is heartbreaking and Jackie is\n cut to the quick. She looks at Mike. Brutal.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Did you reach your mom?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. I told her I was coming home.\n \n JACKIE\n Did she want to talk to me or\n anything?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Well, I'm sorry you can't stay\n longer but maybe you can come back\n with your mom and visit again.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", "this Jackie Flaherty.\n Kyle is staying with us. Hello?\n (She closes the phone)\n I'm gonna kill that lady.\n \n She sets the phone down and turns. Kyle is standing on the\n stairs. His hair is wet and he's carrying his towel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hi. I heard your phone ringing\n and...\n \n KYLE\n You answered it?\n \n JACKIE\n Yeah,", "\n tell you bad things about me?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. But I never believe her\n anyway.\n \n LEO\n You should, she's your mother.\n Respect that.\n (Pointng to the TV)\n Can you turn that down? I hate that\n judge. I wouldn't be in this place\n if it wasn't for her.\n \n KYLE\n But this place is pretty nice.\n 5/15/10 - FULL" ], [ " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n", " \n MIKE\n What the hell am I gonna do?\n Bartend? I'm a lawyer, Ter. I\n practice law.\n MIKE (CONT'D) TERRY\n And it's not like I'm some I know.\n scumbag. I help old people\n for Christ sake. No offense\n but your pal, Finley doesn't\n give a crap about anything\n but making money.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. But that's why he makes it.\n", "\n \n EXT. MIKE'S OFFICE, PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike parks his car as a WORKMAN walks up from the basement of\n the house and gets into his VAN and pulls away.\n \n Mike gets out of his car and walks toward the back door\n carrying his briefcase. He stops at the basement steps.\n \n MIKE\n Vig?\n \n VOICE\n Down here.\n \n Mike walks down", ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", ".\n \n Terry tries to help him but it's only seems to annoy Mike.\n \n MIKE TERRY\n Get off me! Just lie down.\n \n MIKE\n No! It's wet. I don't want to lie\n down.\n \n TERRY\n Who cares? You might be dying. Are\n you cold? Do you feel cold?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm lying on the ground.\n \n TERR", " MIKE\n I'm not just helping out the old\n man, Ter. It's not like it's\n charity work. I'm getting paid for\n it.\n \n TERRY\n No. Shit, everyone gets paid, but\n think about it, Mike. What are the\n chances that this kid ends up on\n your door step and he can wrestle\n like that? It's a sign, pal.\n \n This lands with Mike. Terry sits down at his computer.\n \n", " \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER\n \n Mike is eating lunch at his desk. He hears a noise and looks\n out the back window and see's Vigman pulling a LARGE ROLL OF\n PLASTIC TARP out of the trunk of his car.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 9\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE, BATHROOM - LATER\n \n", "Who do\n I have at ten-thirty?\n \n SHELLY\n (APOLOGETICALLY)\n Frank.\n \n MIKE\n Great.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting with FRANK, an elderly man, jotting notes.\n \n MIKE\n And you think your son stole it?\n \n FRANK\n Yeah. I know he did", " MIKE\n Hey, it's alright.\n \n Mike puts his arm on his shoulder and Kyle starts to cry.\n Mike squeezes him.\n \n KYLE\n I don't want to go with her. I\n don't.\n \n MIKE\n OK, pal. OK.\n \n \n EXT. UNION HIGH SCHOOL, PARKING LOT - LATER.\n \n Mike, Terry and Kyle walk out of the school.", "\n \n Jackie shuts the door. Mike looks up at the tree.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Shit.\n \n \n INT. DUNKIN' DONUTS - LATER.\n \n Mike pays for his coffee and bagel and starts to leave. He\n nods to a group of FIVE OLD MEN who wave him over. He tries\n to keep moving but they continue to engage him. Finally he\n joins the table. The group shares a laugh.\n ", "(CONT'D)\n Hey, you sure we should do this?\n \n MIKE\n Why not? Whether he's here for two\n more days or two weeks it gives him\n something to do all day. Unless you\n want him hanging out here?\n \n JACKIE\n OK. Go.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN OFFICE - DAY.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting. After a moment, STEVE DELUCA", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", "a beer and sets it down in front of Terry.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n You want an umbrella with that?\n \n TERRY\n Nah. I'm good. But keep these\n coming.\n \n Mike checks a ticket and prepares two drinks.\n \n TERRY (CONT'D)\n So how you doing, pal?\n \n MIKE\n Me? I'm pretty good.\n \n We hold on Mike as he", "\n He takes a hard look himself in the mirror, almost as if he's\n steeling himself for something.\n \n Mike smiles.\n \n \n INT. BAR - NIGHT.\n \n Terry walks in and crosses to the bar. He sits down.\n \n TERRY\n Can I get a banana daiquiri,\n please?\n \n The Bartender turns. It's Mike.\n \n MIKE\n Sure.\n \n Mike opens", ". Jackie barely moves.\n \n MIKE\n It was Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Working out.\n \n JACKIE\n Is he gonna do it every morning?\n \n MIKE\n In season. Yeah.\n \n Beat.\n \n JACKIE\n I hate you.\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n \n INT.", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "\n CINDY\n I want to see my son!\n \n MIKE\n Then call him! You have his number!\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BACK PORCH - DUSK.\n \n Mike sits on the back porch nursing a beer. Terry stands in\n the yard facing away from him.\n \n TERRY\n We were right there, Mike. Right\n fucking there. And now we have\n nothing. Nothing!\n ", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you" ], [ ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", " \n Mike blows his whistle again and Kyle goes on the offensive.\n He gives Carlos a quick head fake and before Carlos knows\n what's happened, Kyle has grabbed his ankle and tripped him\n down to the mat.\n \n Carlos looks shocked. Kyle pops back up but stays focused on\n Carlos. Mike looks to Vigman who raises an eyebrow,\n impressed. One thing is certain, Kyle can wrestle.\n \n \n EXT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT -", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", "action. Kyle gets up and Mike checks in with him.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey! You OK?\n \n KYLE\n (SLIGHT SMILE)\n Yeah.\n \n Kyle gets into the bottom position.\n \n VIGMAN\n Did he smile?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I think he did.\n \n TERRY\n Good. That's good, right?\n \n The Ref blows", "tries to push Mike back.\n \n KYLE\n Don't touch me!\n \n Mike deflects Kyle and Kyle spills to the ground.\n \n TERRY\n Oh shit.\n \n Kyle gets up and starts to circle Mike. Mike has no choice\n but reciprocate.\n \n MIKE\n Would you let me explain?!\n \n KYLE\n Explain what? How you lied to me?\n How you lied to Leo?\n ", " \n MIKE\n Uh, OK.\n \n Mike cuffs Kyle on the side of the head gear.\n \n KYLE\n Can you do it harder?\n \n Mike slaps him hard. And Kyle sprints to the mat and takes\n his stance.\n \n The Ref blows the whistle and the wrestlers circle each\n other. The OTHER WRESTLER is clearly on the offensive.\n \n TERRY\n Come on, Kyle. Take this punk out", " Mike and Cindy are driving.\n \n MIKE\n I'm really sorry about this.\n \n CINDY\n That's okay. Thanks.\n \n MIKE\n You know Kyle's doing really well\n with wrestling here, Cindy. The\n regions are this weekend and if he\n wins there then he goes to the\n states.\n \n CINDY\n That's great.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. It is and", " MIKE\n Hey, it's alright.\n \n Mike puts his arm on his shoulder and Kyle starts to cry.\n Mike squeezes him.\n \n KYLE\n I don't want to go with her. I\n don't.\n \n MIKE\n OK, pal. OK.\n \n \n EXT. UNION HIGH SCHOOL, PARKING LOT - LATER.\n \n Mike, Terry and Kyle walk out of the school.", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", " MIKE\n Don't worry about it. You ever\n wrestle before?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n Vigman is already running the team through a drill.\n \n VIGMAN\n Get that ankle. Get that ankle!\n Time!\n \n MIKE\n Hey Vig. Alright, guys, listen up!\n Kyle's going to be working out with\n us for a little while.\n \n STEMLER\n ", "\n Kyle head pumps. Mike takes the bait and jumps back.\n MIKE TERRY\n Kyle wait... Watch the head fake!\n \n MIKE\n Kyle I don't want to wrestle you.\n \n JACKIE TERRY\n Kyle, stop for a minute. Keep your hands out, Mike.\n Hands out.\n \n JACKIE\n Terry, stop it!\n \n TERRY\n I'm just trying to help.\n ", ". Jackie barely moves.\n \n MIKE\n It was Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Working out.\n \n JACKIE\n Is he gonna do it every morning?\n \n MIKE\n In season. Yeah.\n \n Beat.\n \n JACKIE\n I hate you.\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n \n INT.", "'s a bloodbath. Jackie, Abby and Stella are\n in the stands and they look depressed. Kyle's next up.\n \n MIKE\n OK. This is Kenny Randall. He's\n very good.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, I heard.\n \n MIKE\n But you have an advantage here, he\n has no idea who you are, right?\n (MORE)\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCR", " CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n KYLE\n Hi.\n \n LEO\n Come on in. I'll turn off the TV.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, LEO'S ROOM - SAME.\n \n Leo turns off the TV and then turns and looks at Kyle. He\n doesn't recognize him.\n \n MIKE\n This is", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", "IE'S HOUSE, KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike walks into the kitchen. Kyle is drinking water.\n \n MIKE\n Were you outside?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. I went for a run.\n \n MIKE\n It's pretty early. You do this\n every morning?\n \n KYLE\n In season, yeah. I like to get my\n run in early and then drill some\n moves for an hour", "He leaves.\n \n \n EXT. BUS STATION - LATER.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting for the bus. Mike pulls out his\n wallet.\n \n MIKE\n Here's fifty bucks in case you need\n it.\n \n Mike counts his cash.\n \n KYLE\n I have money.\n \n MIKE\n Actually it's only forty-three but\n take it. You never know.\n \n ", "\n JACKIE\n You're not helping.\n \n Kyle head fakes again but this time he's in. Before Mike\n knows what hits him, he's on his back.\n MIKE TERRY\n Ow! Oh shit.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Mike, stop it!\n \n Kyle is all over Mike. Mike's trying to fight back but it's\n useless and even kind of pathetic.\n 5/15/10 - F" ], [ "\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n It didn't sound like that the other\n day. It sounded like you hated the\n guy.\n \n CINDY\n You have no idea what my father\n used to be like. No idea! He wasn't\n like he is now! He treated me like\n shit and he was all I had!\n \n MIKE\n So now you want to return the\n favor? Is that it?!\n \n CIND", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "\n in there. Maybe even change his\n life and that's gone now. I hope\n you're happy.\n \n CINDY\n That's not my fault.\n \n MIKE\n It isn't? Why do you think he lost\n his shit in there, huh?! What do\n you want, lady?\n \n CINDY\n I want my father.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 98", "Why what?\n \n KYLE\n Why does he belong with us?\n \n Cindy judges her son's look and speaks from the heart.\n \n CINDY\n Because we deserve that money,\n Kyle. Not some lawyer. You're a big\n boy. You can understand that.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 103\n CONTINUED:\n \n Kyle looks at the page on more", ",\n alright. We couldn't find his\n daughter and I'm just trying to\n help the guy. It's really not a big\n deal.\n \n JACKIE\n Well, it sounds like a big deal.\n And you should have told me.\n \n ABBY\n What's a big deal?\n \n JACKIE\n Ask your daddy, sweetie. Maybe\n he'll tell you.\n \n ABBY\n Daddy, what", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", " \n CINDY\n I want to take care of him.\n \n MIKE\n Really? So you want to move here?\n \n ELEANOR\n No. Cindy would like to bring her\n father back to Columbus.\n \n CINDY\n That's where my support network is\n now. It's home.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 89\n CONTINUED", "thought she just\n arrived two days ago.\n (MIKE SITS)\n How long have you been here?\n \n ELEANOR\n She wanted a little time to settle\n in and spend some time with her\n father.\n \n MIKE\n So how can I help?\n \n ELEANOR\n Cindy has decided that she wants a\n more active role in her father's\n care.\n \n MIKE\n What kind of a role is that?\n", "\n Cindy nods.\n \n ELEANOR\n Hi, I'm Eleanor Cohen.\n \n MIKE\n Please come in.\n \n He leads them into his office.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n I wasn't aware that Cindy was\n represented by council.\n \n ELEANOR\n She retained me last week to help\n sort out her father's situation.\n \n MIKE\n Last week? I", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", "\n CINDY\n I want to see my son!\n \n MIKE\n Then call him! You have his number!\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BACK PORCH - DUSK.\n \n Mike sits on the back porch nursing a beer. Terry stands in\n the yard facing away from him.\n \n TERRY\n We were right there, Mike. Right\n fucking there. And now we have\n nothing. Nothing!\n ", "'s court appointed\n attorney...\n \n JUDGE LEE\n I know, Stu, I appointed him.\n \n THATCHER\n Yeah, well that hardly qualifies\n him to be Leo's Guardian. What's\n the motivation here?\n \n Thatcher is turning up the heat. He obviously wants Poplar.\n Mike is starting to feel it.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Mike?\n \n Mike looks back at Leo who is trying to un", "The entire\n family is waiting for them. Jackie gives Kyle a big hug. Abby\n takes his hand. They all get into their car. Mike is just\n about to get in but then he sees Cindy standing by her car\n watching. He shuts his door and crosses to her.\n \n MIKE\n Why are you here?\n \n CINDY\n I wanted to see my son wrestle.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well your son had a pretty\n good chance to do something special", "'ll take care of him for free\n and I'll send you the check every\n month. On one condition.\n \n CINDY\n What's that?\n \n MIKE\n You leave Kyle here. With us. Until\n he finishes high school.\n \n CINDY\n I'm his mother. He belongs with me.\n \n MIKE\n Are you sure he feels that way?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCR", "it's that bad.\n \n TERRY\n Just take her to court, you'll kill\n her.\n \n MIKE\n I can't.\n \n TERRY\n Why not? She's a freaking mess.\n You're a pillar of the community,\n Mike.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't go back in front of\n Judge Lee, it won't look good,\n trust me.\n \n T", "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", "UED:\n \n ELEANOR\n OK.\n \n MIKE\n Cindy, your father disinherited you\n from his will. Completely. And I'm\n afraid that can't change now that\n he's been declared incapacitated.\n \n CINDY\n (TO ELEANOR)\n Is that true?\n \n ELEANOR\n We'll have to see a copy of the\n will, Mike.\n \n ", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", ".\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n You OK?\n \n Mike shrugs.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What are we gonna do, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n There's nothing to do. I can't stop\n her. She's gonna leave and she's\n gonna take Kyle and Leo with her.\n \n JACKIE\n And you don't think you'd beat her\n in court?\n " ], [ ".\n \n Terry tries to help him but it's only seems to annoy Mike.\n \n MIKE TERRY\n Get off me! Just lie down.\n \n MIKE\n No! It's wet. I don't want to lie\n down.\n \n TERRY\n Who cares? You might be dying. Are\n you cold? Do you feel cold?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm lying on the ground.\n \n TERR", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", "\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n JACKIE\n So then tell her you changed your\n mind. No one can question that.\n \n MIKE\n I can't, Jack.\n \n JACKIE\n Why not?\n \n MIKE\n Because it's not true.\n \n JACKIE\n Well I'm glad your done lying now,\n just in time to lose your practice.\n That's how we survive", " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", " Mike and Cindy are driving.\n \n MIKE\n I'm really sorry about this.\n \n CINDY\n That's okay. Thanks.\n \n MIKE\n You know Kyle's doing really well\n with wrestling here, Cindy. The\n regions are this weekend and if he\n wins there then he goes to the\n states.\n \n CINDY\n That's great.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. It is and", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", "'m still gonna try.\n \n KYLE\n So what?! You want me to forgive\n you now? Is that it, Mike?!\n \n MIKE\n No. I just want you to give me\n another chance. That's all I'm\n asking.\n \n Mike's sincerity is undeniable. Kyle looks to Jackie. They\n connect. Kyle shakes his head, turns around, and then throws\n his bag.\n \n KYLE\n This is bullshit", "a kid.\n \n Jackie starts to break. Mike buckles.\n \n MIKE\n I know. I know. You're right.\n \n JACKIE\n I just want to go to Ohio\n and...beat the crap out of his mom.\n \n MIKE\n Come on.\n \n JACKIE\n I do. I want to beat the crap out\n of her and her stupid boyfriend.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n ", "\n MIKE\n No. I don't.\n \n JACKIE\n Why? It's so obvious she's just\n wants him for the money.\n \n Mike turns to Jackie. He wants to tell her but just can't.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't win this one, Jackie.\n Trust me.\n \n Jackie misinterprets Mike's guilt for pain. She backs off.\n \n JACKIE\n I do.\n ", "\n He takes a hard look himself in the mirror, almost as if he's\n steeling himself for something.\n \n Mike smiles.\n \n \n INT. BAR - NIGHT.\n \n Terry walks in and crosses to the bar. He sits down.\n \n TERRY\n Can I get a banana daiquiri,\n please?\n \n The Bartender turns. It's Mike.\n \n MIKE\n Sure.\n \n Mike opens", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", "tries to push Mike back.\n \n KYLE\n Don't touch me!\n \n Mike deflects Kyle and Kyle spills to the ground.\n \n TERRY\n Oh shit.\n \n Kyle gets up and starts to circle Mike. Mike has no choice\n but reciprocate.\n \n MIKE\n Would you let me explain?!\n \n KYLE\n Explain what? How you lied to me?\n How you lied to Leo?\n ", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n It didn't sound like that the other\n day. It sounded like you hated the\n guy.\n \n CINDY\n You have no idea what my father\n used to be like. No idea! He wasn't\n like he is now! He treated me like\n shit and he was all I had!\n \n MIKE\n So now you want to return the\n favor? Is that it?!\n \n CIND", " MIKE\n Hey, it's alright.\n \n Mike puts his arm on his shoulder and Kyle starts to cry.\n Mike squeezes him.\n \n KYLE\n I don't want to go with her. I\n don't.\n \n MIKE\n OK, pal. OK.\n \n \n EXT. UNION HIGH SCHOOL, PARKING LOT - LATER.\n \n Mike, Terry and Kyle walk out of the school.", "action. Kyle gets up and Mike checks in with him.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey! You OK?\n \n KYLE\n (SLIGHT SMILE)\n Yeah.\n \n Kyle gets into the bottom position.\n \n VIGMAN\n Did he smile?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I think he did.\n \n TERRY\n Good. That's good, right?\n \n The Ref blows", "\n CINDY\n I want to see my son!\n \n MIKE\n Then call him! You have his number!\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BACK PORCH - DUSK.\n \n Mike sits on the back porch nursing a beer. Terry stands in\n the yard facing away from him.\n \n TERRY\n We were right there, Mike. Right\n fucking there. And now we have\n nothing. Nothing!\n ", "Who do\n I have at ten-thirty?\n \n SHELLY\n (APOLOGETICALLY)\n Frank.\n \n MIKE\n Great.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting with FRANK, an elderly man, jotting notes.\n \n MIKE\n And you think your son stole it?\n \n FRANK\n Yeah. I know he did", "d you get down here?\n \n KYLE\n The window.\n \n JACKIE\n Are you hungry? I was gonna make\n some pancakes.\n \n KYLE\n No. I'm leaving. I just came to get\n my shit.\n \n They share a look and walk over to Kyle.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle, listen, I just wanted to say\n I'm sorry...\n \n KYLE\n I know" ], [ "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", ".\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n You OK?\n \n Mike shrugs.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What are we gonna do, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n There's nothing to do. I can't stop\n her. She's gonna leave and she's\n gonna take Kyle and Leo with her.\n \n JACKIE\n And you don't think you'd beat her\n in court?\n ", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "Leo?\n \n Mike looks to Shelly who just shrugs.\n \n MIKE\n Uh...yeah...OK. You know where it\n is?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. Just down the street.\n \n MIKE\n OK, yeah. Just stay there and I'll\n pick you up at about three.\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Kyle shuts the door. Mike looks at Shelly.\n \n S", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", "Mike)\n I'd like to discuss this with my\n client, Mr. Flaherty.\n \n CINDY\n What's to discuss? I'm not taking\n care of him if I'm not getting\n anything for it.\n \n ELEANOR\n Cindy, please.\n (TO MIKE)\n We're finished here.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike gets up and walks out. A smile creeps across his face.", " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n", "for the\n call?\n \n MIKE\n No. I really don't.\n \n \n EXT. BUSINESS CENTER - DAY.\n \n Mike walks into the brick and glass tower.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Look, we're all concerned with\n what's best for Leo so I'm hoping\n we can settle this in an amicable\n way.\n \n \n INT. ELEANOR COHEN'S OFF", "tries to push Mike back.\n \n KYLE\n Don't touch me!\n \n Mike deflects Kyle and Kyle spills to the ground.\n \n TERRY\n Oh shit.\n \n Kyle gets up and starts to circle Mike. Mike has no choice\n but reciprocate.\n \n MIKE\n Would you let me explain?!\n \n KYLE\n Explain what? How you lied to me?\n How you lied to Leo?\n ", "ICE - SAME.\n \n Mike is siting down with Eleanor and Cindy.\n \n ELEANOR\n So do we.\n \n MIKE\n Good, well, I thought I'd start by\n laying all the cards on the table,\n so maybe you can understand why I'm\n hesitating in turning Leo over to\n Cindy.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 93\n CONTIN", ". This is Abby.\n \n CINDY\n Hi Abby.\n \n ABBY\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n Abby, can you go get Kyle for us?\n \n ABBY\n He left.\n \n MIKE\n He left? What do you mean?\n \n ABBY\n He left out the window.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S CAR - NIGHT.\n \n", " about getting Coco Puffs? I like\n that kind.\n \n MIKE\n Sure thing, Leo.\n \n LEO\n (TO KYLE)\n Mike's a stand up guy. You need\n cereal then talk to him.\n \n Kyle and Mike smile. Mike checks his watch.\n \n MIKE\n We should go, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n OK. Bye Leo.\n \n LEO\n Are you", " \n They arrive back at Mike's house. Mike is really winded.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n I told her you'd go see her today,\n Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Where?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 87\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Where ever you want. She could come\n here or we could go see her at\n Leo'", " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", "long. Do you think we could\n stay in my dad's house?\n \n This is not what Mike wanted but he's stuck.\n \n MIKE\n Uhh...yeah. We could probably make\n that work.\n \n CINDY\n Then, yeah, I could stay.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Good. That's great.\n \n Mike's phone rings.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey.\n " ], [ " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", ":\n \n MIKE\n Well I'm not sure that's what Leo\n wants.\n \n CINDY\n I already talked to him about it.\n He seem to like the idea.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that, Cindy. But you\n haven't seen Leo in a long time and\n he's battling dementia now so it\n puts me in a tough position here.\n \n ELEANOR\n She is the presumed Guardian,", "MIKE\n Yeah. I actually brought you a\n copy.\n \n Mike reaches into his briefcase and puts the A COPY OF THE\n WILL on Eleanor's desk.\n \n CINDY\n Who did he leave it too? Did he\n leave it to Kyle?!\n \n MIKE\n No.\n \n CINDY\n Then who? You?\n \n MIKE\n No. He left everything to the\n municipal parks system. He wanted\n the", "anything to cause it then I will\n never forgive myself. I know how\n much wrestling means to you, baby.\n \n KYLE\n Is that why you called me. Just to\n tell me that?\n \n CINDY\n No. I also wanted to say that I'll\n do whatever you think is best for\n Leo. I promise.\n \n KYLE\n Then leave him here. Where he is.\n \n CINDY\n OK. I will. If", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", "that's what you\n want. But I have to be honest, I'm\n not sure that's what Leo wants.\n \n KYLE\n What do you mean?\n \n CINDY\n Here. Read this.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 102\n CONTINUED:\n \n She hands him a piece of paper.\n \n KYLE\n What is it?\n ", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", "UED:\n \n ELEANOR\n OK.\n \n MIKE\n Cindy, your father disinherited you\n from his will. Completely. And I'm\n afraid that can't change now that\n he's been declared incapacitated.\n \n CINDY\n (TO ELEANOR)\n Is that true?\n \n ELEANOR\n We'll have to see a copy of the\n will, Mike.\n \n ", " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", "\n LEO\n I don't need a new place. I have a\n house. I'm not fancy that way.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 22\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n I know. But I need you to stay in\n this new place for a while. It's\n nice. You'll like it.\n \n LEO\n Is that what the judge said?\n ", "ICE - SAME.\n \n Mike is siting down with Eleanor and Cindy.\n \n ELEANOR\n So do we.\n \n MIKE\n Good, well, I thought I'd start by\n laying all the cards on the table,\n so maybe you can understand why I'm\n hesitating in turning Leo over to\n Cindy.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 93\n CONTIN", "mean?\n \n TERRY\n Just give her some of Leo's money\n and send her home. He's not gonna\n miss it. He's in happy land.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 92\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n No, I can't do that. She's not even\n in his...\n \n Mike stops. A flash of inspiration.\n \n ", "for the\n call?\n \n MIKE\n No. I really don't.\n \n \n EXT. BUSINESS CENTER - DAY.\n \n Mike walks into the brick and glass tower.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Look, we're all concerned with\n what's best for Leo so I'm hoping\n we can settle this in an amicable\n way.\n \n \n INT. ELEANOR COHEN'S OFF", "he got a call\n from a college scout about me.\n \n LEO\n Oh.\n \n VOICE (O.S.)\n Hi baby.\n \n A THIRTY-EIGHT YEAR OLD WOMAN standing in the door way. This\n is CINDY TIMMONS. Kyle's mother.\n \n KYLE\n What are you doing here?\n \n CINDY\n I came to get you, honey. And to\n see Grand", "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", "t put them in the basket.\n \n JACKIE\n Coco Puffs. Is that your brand?\n \n KYLE\n It's for Leo.\n \n JACKIE\n Nice. Drop it in, it's on me. Go\n ahead.\n (KYLE DOES)\n How's he doing?\n \n KYLE\n He's doing OK. He can say some\n pretty funny things. Yesterday he\n told me I was fired" ], [ "this Jackie Flaherty.\n Kyle is staying with us. Hello?\n (She closes the phone)\n I'm gonna kill that lady.\n \n She sets the phone down and turns. Kyle is standing on the\n stairs. His hair is wet and he's carrying his towel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hi. I heard your phone ringing\n and...\n \n KYLE\n You answered it?\n \n JACKIE\n Yeah,", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle! Stop! Please!\n \n He doesn't stop. Jackie turns to Mike.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Is that true, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, it is.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n So why'd you move him if he wanted\n to stay here.\n \n MIKE\n Because it would have been too much\n work to", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", "s house. She moving in this\n morning.\n \n Kyle thinks.\n \n KYLE\n I'll go see her at Leo's before\n practice. But I want to go alone.\n \n MIKE\n (HESITANT)\n Yeah, that's OK but Kyle but you\n have to promise me...\n \n KYLE\n Don't worry, Mike. I'll go.\n \n Mike turns and spots his OLD NEIGHBOR watching", "Mr\n Flaherty.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that.\n \n ELEANOR\n And we do hope to avoid litigation.\n \n MIKE\n So do I and I'm sure we can. Now,\n I'm sorry, but I actually have to\n go see a client so we'll have to\n set up another time to discuss\n this.\n \n CINDY\n Kyle's still coming to see me\n today, right?\n ", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", "\n MIKE\n Kyle, we talked about this.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. We did! Listen to this.\n \n Kyle takes a piece of paper out of his pocket.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 108\n CONTINUED:\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n (READING)\n Mike Flaherty: Mr. Poplar wants to\n live at home. Judge", "- LATER.\n \n Kyle is sitting on the back steps and smoking a cigarette.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting up in bed. His wheels are spinning.\n \n JACKIE (O.S.)\n We don't have a choice now.\n \n MIKE\n So what are we gonna do? Adopt him?\n \n Jackie walks into the room putting on", ", Mike, can I ask you something?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. What?\n \n KYLE\n Leo told me that some Judge made\n him move into that place. Is that\n true or is he just making that up?\n \n Mike wasn't expecting this.\n \n MIKE\n No. That's true, pal.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIP", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", "!\n \n Mike looks at Jackie.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Kyle, listen -\n \n KYLE\n I want to be alone.\n \n MIKE\n What?\n \n KYLE\n (Without looking at them)\n I JUST WANT TO BE DOWN HERE ALONE!\n \n MIKE\n OK. All right. Yeah.\n \n Jackie and Mike turn and start to walk upstairs but Jackie\n stops.\n ", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", " \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, COMMUNAL ROOM - DAY.\n \n Kyle sitting in the communal room at a table with Leo. Kyle\n is doing homework. Leo is staring out the window. Court TV is\n playing in the background.\n \n LEO\n You're mother didn't want to come?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n LEO\n She's a tough kid that one. She", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", "'ll take care of him for free\n and I'll send you the check every\n month. On one condition.\n \n CINDY\n What's that?\n \n MIKE\n You leave Kyle here. With us. Until\n he finishes high school.\n \n CINDY\n I'm his mother. He belongs with me.\n \n MIKE\n Are you sure he feels that way?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCR", "\n I'm living with Craig.\n \n JACKIE\n Who's Craig?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 35\n CONTINUED:\n \n KYLE\n Her boyfriend, I guess, but he's an\n asshole.\n \n JACKIE\n Does she even know you're here?\n \n KYLE\n My mom? She doesn't care about me." ], [ "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", "chair\n watching TV.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n There he is!\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Watching TV.\n \n TERRY\n What's he watching?\n \n JACKIE\n Who cares?\n \n MIKE\n Leo? Hey Leo?\n \n Mike knocks on the window. Leo doesn't register it.\n \n MI", " \n LEO\n Come on in.\n \n Leo walks away. They all follow him.\n \n TERRY\n OK. That is very creepy.\n \n \n INT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - SAME.\n \n They walk into the house following Leo into the living room.\n He sits back in his chair and start watching TV again.\n \n MIKE\n You OK, Leo?\n \n Leo just watches TV.\n ", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", "MENTS and puts them in LEO'S FILE.\n \n SHELLY\n Can't the state just leave him in\n his home? That's what the guy\n wants.\n \n MIKE\n They could but they never will.\n It's too much work. They'll\n probably move him into Oak Knoll.\n Hand me one of their brochures?\n \n Shelly grabs an OAK KNOLL BROCHURE from a stack.\n \n ", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "\n MIKE\n Yeah, that's what he said.\n \n Leo considers the news and looks out the window.\n \n LEO\n Ah shit.\n \n \n EXT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING - DAY.\n \n Mike and Leo arrive at Oak Knoll.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, PRIVATE ROOM - LATER.\n \n It is a", " CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n KYLE\n Hi.\n \n LEO\n Come on in. I'll turn off the TV.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, LEO'S ROOM - SAME.\n \n Leo turns off the TV and then turns and looks at Kyle. He\n doesn't recognize him.\n \n MIKE\n This is", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "KE (CONT'D)\n He's not responding. Ring the bell.\n \n Jackie does. Leo still doesn't respond.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Nothing. Fuck.\n \n TERRY\n This is freaking spooky.\n \n Mike climbs down back onto the porch.\n \n TERRY (CONT'D)\n Should we break in?\n \n MIKE\n I have a key back at the office. I\n ", "t put them in the basket.\n \n JACKIE\n Coco Puffs. Is that your brand?\n \n KYLE\n It's for Leo.\n \n JACKIE\n Nice. Drop it in, it's on me. Go\n ahead.\n (KYLE DOES)\n How's he doing?\n \n KYLE\n He's doing OK. He can say some\n pretty funny things. Yesterday he\n told me I was fired", " about getting Coco Puffs? I like\n that kind.\n \n MIKE\n Sure thing, Leo.\n \n LEO\n (TO KYLE)\n Mike's a stand up guy. You need\n cereal then talk to him.\n \n Kyle and Mike smile. Mike checks his watch.\n \n MIKE\n We should go, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n OK. Bye Leo.\n \n LEO\n Are you", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/", "anything to cause it then I will\n never forgive myself. I know how\n much wrestling means to you, baby.\n \n KYLE\n Is that why you called me. Just to\n tell me that?\n \n CINDY\n No. I also wanted to say that I'll\n do whatever you think is best for\n Leo. I promise.\n \n KYLE\n Then leave him here. Where he is.\n \n CINDY\n OK. I will. If", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n" ], [ " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", "\n He takes a hard look himself in the mirror, almost as if he's\n steeling himself for something.\n \n Mike smiles.\n \n \n INT. BAR - NIGHT.\n \n Terry walks in and crosses to the bar. He sits down.\n \n TERRY\n Can I get a banana daiquiri,\n please?\n \n The Bartender turns. It's Mike.\n \n MIKE\n Sure.\n \n Mike opens", "\n \n EXT. MIKE'S OFFICE, PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike parks his car as a WORKMAN walks up from the basement of\n the house and gets into his VAN and pulls away.\n \n Mike gets out of his car and walks toward the back door\n carrying his briefcase. He stops at the basement steps.\n \n MIKE\n Vig?\n \n VOICE\n Down here.\n \n Mike walks down", " \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER\n \n Mike is eating lunch at his desk. He hears a noise and looks\n out the back window and see's Vigman pulling a LARGE ROLL OF\n PLASTIC TARP out of the trunk of his car.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 9\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE, BATHROOM - LATER\n \n", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", " \n MIKE\n What the hell am I gonna do?\n Bartend? I'm a lawyer, Ter. I\n practice law.\n MIKE (CONT'D) TERRY\n And it's not like I'm some I know.\n scumbag. I help old people\n for Christ sake. No offense\n but your pal, Finley doesn't\n give a crap about anything\n but making money.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. But that's why he makes it.\n", ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", "Who do\n I have at ten-thirty?\n \n SHELLY\n (APOLOGETICALLY)\n Frank.\n \n MIKE\n Great.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting with FRANK, an elderly man, jotting notes.\n \n MIKE\n And you think your son stole it?\n \n FRANK\n Yeah. I know he did", " MIKE\n I'm not just helping out the old\n man, Ter. It's not like it's\n charity work. I'm getting paid for\n it.\n \n TERRY\n No. Shit, everyone gets paid, but\n think about it, Mike. What are the\n chances that this kid ends up on\n your door step and he can wrestle\n like that? It's a sign, pal.\n \n This lands with Mike. Terry sits down at his computer.\n \n", " Yeah. My park.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Kyle get out of the car and unload a couple of small\n mats from the backseat.\n \n MIKE\n You bring the tape?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. It's in my bag.\n \n Mike grabs his briefcase from the trunk.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Hey", ".\n \n Terry tries to help him but it's only seems to annoy Mike.\n \n MIKE TERRY\n Get off me! Just lie down.\n \n MIKE\n No! It's wet. I don't want to lie\n down.\n \n TERRY\n Who cares? You might be dying. Are\n you cold? Do you feel cold?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm lying on the ground.\n \n TERR", " MIKE\n Hey, it's alright.\n \n Mike puts his arm on his shoulder and Kyle starts to cry.\n Mike squeezes him.\n \n KYLE\n I don't want to go with her. I\n don't.\n \n MIKE\n OK, pal. OK.\n \n \n EXT. UNION HIGH SCHOOL, PARKING LOT - LATER.\n \n Mike, Terry and Kyle walk out of the school.", ". This is Abby.\n \n CINDY\n Hi Abby.\n \n ABBY\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n Abby, can you go get Kyle for us?\n \n ABBY\n He left.\n \n MIKE\n He left? What do you mean?\n \n ABBY\n He left out the window.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S CAR - NIGHT.\n \n", "Mike)\n I'd like to discuss this with my\n client, Mr. Flaherty.\n \n CINDY\n What's to discuss? I'm not taking\n care of him if I'm not getting\n anything for it.\n \n ELEANOR\n Cindy, please.\n (TO MIKE)\n We're finished here.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike gets up and walks out. A smile creeps across his face.", "a beer and sets it down in front of Terry.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n You want an umbrella with that?\n \n TERRY\n Nah. I'm good. But keep these\n coming.\n \n Mike checks a ticket and prepares two drinks.\n \n TERRY (CONT'D)\n So how you doing, pal?\n \n MIKE\n Me? I'm pretty good.\n \n We hold on Mike as he", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", "I\n say about leaving them around?\n \n A WRESTLER runs over and Vig flings it at him.\n \n \n EXT. WATCHUNG RESERVATION - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and TERRY DELFINO are running. Terry is the same age as\n Mike but dressed in a better gear. They are both breathing\n hard.\n \n TERRY\n How's the team doing?\n \n MIKE\n Not", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", "headphones. He has a BRUISE on his\n left eye.\n \n MIKE\n How you doing? Can I help you?\n \n YOUNG MAN\n No.\n \n MIKE\n Are you looking for Mr. Poplar?\n \n YOUNG MAN\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n Well, he doesn't live here anymore.\n \n YOUNG MAN\n Where does he live?\n \n " ], [ "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", "'s court appointed\n attorney...\n \n JUDGE LEE\n I know, Stu, I appointed him.\n \n THATCHER\n Yeah, well that hardly qualifies\n him to be Leo's Guardian. What's\n the motivation here?\n \n Thatcher is turning up the heat. He obviously wants Poplar.\n Mike is starting to feel it.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Mike?\n \n Mike looks back at Leo who is trying to un", "are\n spinning. He seizes his moment.\n \n MIKE\n Your Honor, if it pleases the\n Court.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Yes, Mr. Flaherty?\n \n MIKE\n I would be willing to serve as Mr.\n Poplar's guardian.\n \n THATCHER\n (Stopping.)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n THATCHER\n How long have", "\n Guardian to serve as the guardian\n for his person and property. Do you\n have the order for me to sign, Mr.\n Thatcher?\n \n THATCHER\n Yes, I do, Your Honor.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Then please approach.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 19\n CONTINUED:\n \n Thatcher stands and takes out the order. Mike's wheels", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", "it's that bad.\n \n TERRY\n Just take her to court, you'll kill\n her.\n \n MIKE\n I can't.\n \n TERRY\n Why not? She's a freaking mess.\n You're a pillar of the community,\n Mike.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't go back in front of\n Judge Lee, it won't look good,\n trust me.\n \n T", "GRAPHER raises in eyebrow.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D) THATCHER\n Your Honor, I live in the Proximity hardly qualifies\n same town as Mr. Poplar... him as a guardian, Your\n Honor.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n And, as his lawyer, I feel like I'm\n in a better position to execute\n what my client wants.\n \n THATCHER\n Your Honor, Mr. Flaherty is Mr.\n Poplar", "ab, no frills courtroom. JUDGE LEE is seated on\n the bench looking over some documents.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 18\n CONTINUED:\n \n Mike is sitting next Leo. Seated at the next table is STU\n THATCHER, ATTORNEY FOR THE OFFICE OF PUBLIC GUARDIAN. Mike is\n tapping his pen.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Any", "help you, right?\n \n LEO\n So now what happens?\n \n MIKE\n Well if that Judge deems you\n incapacitated then you will need a\n guardian. And if we can't find your\n daughter then the state...\n \n LEO\n She can't find herself.\n \n MIKE\n OK but if we can't find her then\n the State will have to become your\n guardian.\n \n LEO\n ", "?\n \n MIKE\n (CASUALLY)\n What? Oh, because I'm his guardian.\n \n JACKIE\n What? Since when?\n \n \n MIKE ABBY\n Just last week. Mommy, I want a bagel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n That's a big deal, Mike. Were you\n even gonna tell me?\n MIKE JACKIE\n It's not a big", ":\n \n MIKE\n Well I'm not sure that's what Leo\n wants.\n \n CINDY\n I already talked to him about it.\n He seem to like the idea.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that, Cindy. But you\n haven't seen Leo in a long time and\n he's battling dementia now so it\n puts me in a tough position here.\n \n ELEANOR\n She is the presumed Guardian,", ", Mike, can I ask you something?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. What?\n \n KYLE\n Leo told me that some Judge made\n him move into that place. Is that\n true or is he just making that up?\n \n Mike wasn't expecting this.\n \n MIKE\n No. That's true, pal.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIP", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "SHELLY\n But he has Jolie now. She can\n handle it.\n \n MIKE\n No, she can't. His guardian still\n has to make every single decision.\n It's the difference between a baby\n sitter and a parent.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 11\n CONTINUED:\n \n She hands it to Mike who takes it and paper clips in on the\n inside of", "screw the cap on\n his water bottle, completely uninterested in the proceedings.\n He makes a decision.\n \n MIKE\n Your Honor, Leo told me he wants\n to live at home. He has the money\n to do that and I want to make sure\n that happens. If the State can do\n that then fine.\n \n THATCHER\n Counsel knows we can't do that,\n your Honor.\n (MORE)\n 5/15/10 - FULL S", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", "MIKE\n Yeah. I actually brought you a\n copy.\n \n Mike reaches into his briefcase and puts the A COPY OF THE\n WILL on Eleanor's desk.\n \n CINDY\n Who did he leave it too? Did he\n leave it to Kyle?!\n \n MIKE\n No.\n \n CINDY\n Then who? You?\n \n MIKE\n No. He left everything to the\n municipal parks system. He wanted\n the", "\n Yeah. Your grandfather is in the\n early stages of dementia, Kyle. So\n sometimes he does things and says\n things that don't make sense.\n \n KYLE\n Are you a friend of his or\n something?\n \n MIKE\n I'm his guardian.\n \n KYLE\n What's that mean?\n \n MIKE\n It means I make sure he's well\n taken care of.\n \n KY", "'ll take care of him for free\n and I'll send you the check every\n month. On one condition.\n \n CINDY\n What's that?\n \n MIKE\n You leave Kyle here. With us. Until\n he finishes high school.\n \n CINDY\n I'm his mother. He belongs with me.\n \n MIKE\n Are you sure he feels that way?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCR" ], [ " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", "'s court appointed\n attorney...\n \n JUDGE LEE\n I know, Stu, I appointed him.\n \n THATCHER\n Yeah, well that hardly qualifies\n him to be Leo's Guardian. What's\n the motivation here?\n \n Thatcher is turning up the heat. He obviously wants Poplar.\n Mike is starting to feel it.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Mike?\n \n Mike looks back at Leo who is trying to un", "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", ":\n \n MIKE\n Well I'm not sure that's what Leo\n wants.\n \n CINDY\n I already talked to him about it.\n He seem to like the idea.\n \n MIKE\n I understand that, Cindy. But you\n haven't seen Leo in a long time and\n he's battling dementia now so it\n puts me in a tough position here.\n \n ELEANOR\n She is the presumed Guardian,", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", "are\n spinning. He seizes his moment.\n \n MIKE\n Your Honor, if it pleases the\n Court.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Yes, Mr. Flaherty?\n \n MIKE\n I would be willing to serve as Mr.\n Poplar's guardian.\n \n THATCHER\n (Stopping.)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n THATCHER\n How long have", "ab, no frills courtroom. JUDGE LEE is seated on\n the bench looking over some documents.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 18\n CONTINUED:\n \n Mike is sitting next Leo. Seated at the next table is STU\n THATCHER, ATTORNEY FOR THE OFFICE OF PUBLIC GUARDIAN. Mike is\n tapping his pen.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Any", "for the\n call?\n \n MIKE\n No. I really don't.\n \n \n EXT. BUSINESS CENTER - DAY.\n \n Mike walks into the brick and glass tower.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Look, we're all concerned with\n what's best for Leo so I'm hoping\n we can settle this in an amicable\n way.\n \n \n INT. ELEANOR COHEN'S OFF", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", "chair\n watching TV.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n There he is!\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Watching TV.\n \n TERRY\n What's he watching?\n \n JACKIE\n Who cares?\n \n MIKE\n Leo? Hey Leo?\n \n Mike knocks on the window. Leo doesn't register it.\n \n MI", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "\n \n JACKIE\n No. He slept at Stemler's. How\n about you?\n \n MIKE\n Oak Knoll.\n (BEAT)\n You're right, that's not who I am.\n \n JACKIE\n So what are you going to do?\n \n MIKE\n I have to go court.\n \n JACKIE\n You can't. You told the Judge you\n were keeping Leo at home.", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "?\n \n MIKE\n Yes, I can.\n (TO THATCHER)\n Really.\n \n Leo is putting papers in his briefcase. Mike sits down next\n to him.\n \n LEO\n Did we win?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I think so.\n \n LEO\n Good.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - DAY.\n \n Mike walks toward his", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", ", Mike, can I ask you something?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. What?\n \n KYLE\n Leo told me that some Judge made\n him move into that place. Is that\n true or is he just making that up?\n \n Mike wasn't expecting this.\n \n MIKE\n No. That's true, pal.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIP", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", "?\n \n MIKE\n (CASUALLY)\n What? Oh, because I'm his guardian.\n \n JACKIE\n What? Since when?\n \n \n MIKE ABBY\n Just last week. Mommy, I want a bagel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n That's a big deal, Mike. Were you\n even gonna tell me?\n MIKE JACKIE\n It's not a big" ], [ " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", "Leo's file.\n \n SHELLY\n I wish I could do it. I could use\n an extra 1,500 bucks a month.\n \n MIKE\n $1,500. Is that what it is?\n \n SHELLY\n Yeah. It's in his file.\n (Answering the phone)\n Mike Flaherty's office.\n \n Mike opens Leo's file.\n \n \n INT.", "Y\n I want that commission! That should\n be mine!\n \n MIKE\n And that's why you're doing all\n this? For fifteen hundred dollars a\n month?\n \n CINDY\n Isn't that why you did it?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks.\n \n MIKE\n Alright, I'll tell you what. You\n want the commission? You can have\n it. And you don't even have to take\n Leo. I", "FILE. He opens the file and see's the\n PAMPHLET FOR OAK KNOLL. He flips through the file and lands\n on a particular page and a particular line item.\n \n Monthly Commission: $1,508.00.\n \n \n EXT. UNION COUNTY COURT HOUSE - DAY\n \n Mike walks with Leo Poplar up the steps of the courthouse.\n \n \n INT. UNION COUNTY COURT HOUSE", "mean?\n \n TERRY\n Just give her some of Leo's money\n and send her home. He's not gonna\n miss it. He's in happy land.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 92\n CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n No, I can't do that. She's not even\n in his...\n \n Mike stops. A flash of inspiration.\n \n ", "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", " \n MIKE\n Oh, I ended up taking on Leo's\n guardianship.\n \n SHELLY\n (SURPRISED)\n Really?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, I thought I mentioned that to\n you.\n \n SHELLY\n No, you definitely didn't mention\n that.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well, it just played out that\n way. I have to get going.\n \n ", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", "chair\n watching TV.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n There he is!\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Watching TV.\n \n TERRY\n What's he watching?\n \n JACKIE\n Who cares?\n \n MIKE\n Leo? Hey Leo?\n \n Mike knocks on the window. Leo doesn't register it.\n \n MI", "for the\n call?\n \n MIKE\n No. I really don't.\n \n \n EXT. BUSINESS CENTER - DAY.\n \n Mike walks into the brick and glass tower.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Look, we're all concerned with\n what's best for Leo so I'm hoping\n we can settle this in an amicable\n way.\n \n \n INT. ELEANOR COHEN'S OFF", " \n LEO\n Who?\n \n MIKE\n Your daughter.\n \n LEO\n She's late? She's probably at the\n store buying some crap or\n something.\n \n MIKE\n OK.\n \n Mike turns back to the Judge and shrugs.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n OK, then as, Mr. Poplar has been\n deemed incapacitated by this court,\n I'm appointing the Office of Public", "t put them in the basket.\n \n JACKIE\n Coco Puffs. Is that your brand?\n \n KYLE\n It's for Leo.\n \n JACKIE\n Nice. Drop it in, it's on me. Go\n ahead.\n (KYLE DOES)\n How's he doing?\n \n KYLE\n He's doing OK. He can say some\n pretty funny things. Yesterday he\n told me I was fired", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", "'s court appointed\n attorney...\n \n JUDGE LEE\n I know, Stu, I appointed him.\n \n THATCHER\n Yeah, well that hardly qualifies\n him to be Leo's Guardian. What's\n the motivation here?\n \n Thatcher is turning up the heat. He obviously wants Poplar.\n Mike is starting to feel it.\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Mike?\n \n Mike looks back at Leo who is trying to un", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", "screw the cap on\n his water bottle, completely uninterested in the proceedings.\n He makes a decision.\n \n MIKE\n Your Honor, Leo told me he wants\n to live at home. He has the money\n to do that and I want to make sure\n that happens. If the State can do\n that then fine.\n \n THATCHER\n Counsel knows we can't do that,\n your Honor.\n (MORE)\n 5/15/10 - FULL S" ], [ " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", " \n LEO\n Come on in.\n \n Leo walks away. They all follow him.\n \n TERRY\n OK. That is very creepy.\n \n \n INT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - SAME.\n \n They walk into the house following Leo into the living room.\n He sits back in his chair and start watching TV again.\n \n MIKE\n You OK, Leo?\n \n Leo just watches TV.\n ", "chair\n watching TV.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n There he is!\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Watching TV.\n \n TERRY\n What's he watching?\n \n JACKIE\n Who cares?\n \n MIKE\n Leo? Hey Leo?\n \n Mike knocks on the window. Leo doesn't register it.\n \n MI", "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", "KE (CONT'D)\n He's not responding. Ring the bell.\n \n Jackie does. Leo still doesn't respond.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Nothing. Fuck.\n \n TERRY\n This is freaking spooky.\n \n Mike climbs down back onto the porch.\n \n TERRY (CONT'D)\n Should we break in?\n \n MIKE\n I have a key back at the office. I\n ", "\n Jackie looks at Mike. From the mouths of babes.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, HALLWAY - LATER\n \n Mike knocks on Leo's door. After a moment, Leo opens it.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Leo, you have a visitor.\n \n LEO\n Who? Him?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 27\n", " CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n KYLE\n Hi.\n \n LEO\n Come on in. I'll turn off the TV.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, LEO'S ROOM - SAME.\n \n Leo turns off the TV and then turns and looks at Kyle. He\n doesn't recognize him.\n \n MIKE\n This is", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "for the\n call?\n \n MIKE\n No. I really don't.\n \n \n EXT. BUSINESS CENTER - DAY.\n \n Mike walks into the brick and glass tower.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Look, we're all concerned with\n what's best for Leo so I'm hoping\n we can settle this in an amicable\n way.\n \n \n INT. ELEANOR COHEN'S OFF", "Leo?\n \n Mike looks to Shelly who just shrugs.\n \n MIKE\n Uh...yeah...OK. You know where it\n is?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. Just down the street.\n \n MIKE\n OK, yeah. Just stay there and I'll\n pick you up at about three.\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Kyle shuts the door. Mike looks at Shelly.\n \n S", "nice place. Mike sits on a small couch filling out\n paperwork as a FEMALE STAFF MEMBER helps to prepare Leo's\n room.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - DUSK.\n \n Mike pulls up and walks into the Convenience Store. He buys\n cigarettes and walks outside. He walks outside, around the\n corner and then behind the store. He lights a cigarette and\n then throws the pack into the dumpster. He stands there\n smoking.\n \n \n", "?\n \n MIKE\n Yes, I can.\n (TO THATCHER)\n Really.\n \n Leo is putting papers in his briefcase. Mike sits down next\n to him.\n \n LEO\n Did we win?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I think so.\n \n LEO\n Good.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - DAY.\n \n Mike walks toward his", ", SECURITY DESK - LATER.\n \n Leo walks through the metal detector. Mike watches him and\n then walks through himself but something beeps. The guards\n stops Mike. Leo starts to wander away.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Leo. Leo hold on!\n (to the Guard)\n Can you stop him, please?\n \n \n INT. UNION COUNTY COURT HOUSE, COURTROOM - LATER.\n \n It's a very dr", "could go get it.\n \n JACKIE\n Is he OK?\n \n MIKE\n He seems it. He's just sitting\n there.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 106\n CONTINUED:\n \n Suddenly the door opens. Leo is standing there.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE/TERRY/JACKIE\n Hi./Hey.\n", "MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n (Re: the Young Man)\n Who's that?\n \n MIKE\n No idea.\n \n Mike gets out of the car.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - LATER\n \n Mike walks up the front walk. The YOUNG MAN is listening to\n his Ipod and smoking a cigarette. Mike approaches and waves.\n The YOUNG MAN removes his", "\n MIKE\n Yeah, that's what he said.\n \n Leo considers the news and looks out the window.\n \n LEO\n Ah shit.\n \n \n EXT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING - DAY.\n \n Mike and Leo arrive at Oak Knoll.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, PRIVATE ROOM - LATER.\n \n It is a", "NING.\n \n Mike is sleeping on a love seat. He wakes up. Leo is sitting\n there watching him.\n \n MIKE\n Hey Leo.\n \n LEO\n Hi.\n \n MIKE\n I fell asleep. I'm sorry.\n \n LEO\n Sorry for what?\n \n That's a big question. Mike cuts to the chase.\n \n MIKE\n You want to go home?\n \n L", "you known him? Two\n weeks?\n \n Mike is suddenly put on the spot.\n \n MIKE\n More like five.\n \n THATCHER\n Really? And now you want to be his\n guardian?\n \n Mike looks at Leo and the Judge.\n \n MIKE\n May I approach, your honor?\n \n JUDGE LEE\n Council approach.\n \n Mike collects himself and approaches.\n \n JUDGE L", "listen up! Watch out for\n each other.\n \n MIKE (O.S.)\n Terry!\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - LATER.\n \n Mike's car pulls up. They all get out and run up to the\n house.\n \n TERRY\n There's a light on.\n \n JACKIE\n It's got to be him. Do have the\n key?\n \n ", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/" ], [ "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", " \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, COMMUNAL ROOM - DAY.\n \n Kyle sitting in the communal room at a table with Leo. Kyle\n is doing homework. Leo is staring out the window. Court TV is\n playing in the background.\n \n LEO\n You're mother didn't want to come?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n LEO\n She's a tough kid that one. She", " KYLE\n It's just my mother and me. She's\n back in Columbus. She couldn't\n come.\n \n JACKIE\n So how did you get here?\n \n KYLE\n Bus.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? All by yourself?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n Wow.\n \n ABBY\n That sounds like a big deal.\n ", "\n TERRY (O.S.)\n Hey. Kyle's here.\n \n MIKE\n Really?\n (TO CINDY)\n We found him.\n \n \n INT. TERRY'S CONDO - SAME.\n \n Terry looks into the other room. Kyle is playing on the Wii.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. We're playing Wii Golf. I'm\n destroying him. Dude, this kid\n really hates his mother", "\n I'm living with Craig.\n \n JACKIE\n Who's Craig?\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 35\n CONTINUED:\n \n KYLE\n Her boyfriend, I guess, but he's an\n asshole.\n \n JACKIE\n Does she even know you're here?\n \n KYLE\n My mom? She doesn't care about me.", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", "!\n \n Mike looks at Jackie.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Kyle, listen -\n \n KYLE\n I want to be alone.\n \n MIKE\n What?\n \n KYLE\n (Without looking at them)\n I JUST WANT TO BE DOWN HERE ALONE!\n \n MIKE\n OK. All right. Yeah.\n \n Jackie and Mike turn and start to walk upstairs but Jackie\n stops.\n ", " You're not gonna let her do that\n are you?\n \n MIKE\n I don't know Kyle. It's\n complicated.\n \n KYLE\n What's complicated about it? She\n doesn't give a shit about Leo. They\n hate each other. You can't let her\n take him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. OK. Look, just go get ready for\n practice and I'll deal with it.\n \n KYLE", " TERRY\n Good one, Coach! See, it's already\n fun.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - NIGHT.\n \n Jackie is hanging laundry. She hears a phone ringing from the\n laundry room. She peeks around the corner and sees that Kyle\n is not there. She crosses to his phone and picks it up. It\n reads \"Mom\". She answers it.\n \n JACKIE\n Hello? Hello,", "s house. She moving in this\n morning.\n \n Kyle thinks.\n \n KYLE\n I'll go see her at Leo's before\n practice. But I want to go alone.\n \n MIKE\n (HESITANT)\n Yeah, that's OK but Kyle but you\n have to promise me...\n \n KYLE\n Don't worry, Mike. I'll go.\n \n Mike turns and spots his OLD NEIGHBOR watching", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/", " \n Terry screams. It's a primal scream. Mike just looks at him.\n \n MIKE\n You OK?\n \n TERRY\n No.\n \n Terry drinks. Mike watches him. Jackie pops out from the\n kitchen.\n \n JACKIE\n Mike, your mom's here and dinner's\n almost ready. Have you seen Kyle?\n \n MIKE\n He's not in the basement?\n 5/15/10", "\n \n JACKIE\n How do you know? She's probably\n worried sick and just doesn't know\n how to reach you.\n \n Kyle reaches into his pocket and takes out his cell phone.\n \n KYLE\n She could've called, right?\n \n The sincerity of his question is heartbreaking and Jackie is\n cut to the quick. She looks at Mike. Brutal.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Did you reach your mom?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. I told her I was coming home.\n \n JACKIE\n Did she want to talk to me or\n anything?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Well, I'm sorry you can't stay\n longer but maybe you can come back\n with your mom and visit again.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", "this Jackie Flaherty.\n Kyle is staying with us. Hello?\n (She closes the phone)\n I'm gonna kill that lady.\n \n She sets the phone down and turns. Kyle is standing on the\n stairs. His hair is wet and he's carrying his towel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hi. I heard your phone ringing\n and...\n \n KYLE\n You answered it?\n \n JACKIE\n Yeah,", "\n tell you bad things about me?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. But I never believe her\n anyway.\n \n LEO\n You should, she's your mother.\n Respect that.\n (Pointng to the TV)\n Can you turn that down? I hate that\n judge. I wouldn't be in this place\n if it wasn't for her.\n \n KYLE\n But this place is pretty nice.\n 5/15/10 - FULL" ], [ "- LATER.\n \n Kyle is sitting on the back steps and smoking a cigarette.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting up in bed. His wheels are spinning.\n \n JACKIE (O.S.)\n We don't have a choice now.\n \n MIKE\n So what are we gonna do? Adopt him?\n \n Jackie walks into the room putting on", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", ".\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle! Stop! Please!\n \n He doesn't stop. Jackie turns to Mike.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Is that true, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, it is.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n So why'd you move him if he wanted\n to stay here.\n \n MIKE\n Because it would have been too much\n work to", "!\n \n Mike looks at Jackie.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Kyle, listen -\n \n KYLE\n I want to be alone.\n \n MIKE\n What?\n \n KYLE\n (Without looking at them)\n I JUST WANT TO BE DOWN HERE ALONE!\n \n MIKE\n OK. All right. Yeah.\n \n Jackie and Mike turn and start to walk upstairs but Jackie\n stops.\n ", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", ".\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n You OK?\n \n Mike shrugs.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What are we gonna do, Mike?\n \n MIKE\n There's nothing to do. I can't stop\n her. She's gonna leave and she's\n gonna take Kyle and Leo with her.\n \n JACKIE\n And you don't think you'd beat her\n in court?\n ", " JACKIE\n Mike?\n \n Mike can't answer. Kyle's seen enough.\n \n KYLE\n You're just like her.\n \n He runs out. They all give chase.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike runs outside and see's Kyle crossing the lawn. He\n quickly catches up to him. Terry and Jackie follow close\n behind.\n \n ", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", "Cindy can only cry and nod. Kyle grabs the paper and runs out\n the door.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S HOUSE - LATER.\n \n Mike paces around talking on the phone.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Thanks, Karen. I appreciate it.\n Bye.\n \n Jackie walks into the room.\n \n JACKIE\n Anything?\n \n MIKE\n He's not at Stemler's.\n", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", ". Jackie barely moves.\n \n MIKE\n It was Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What's he doing?\n \n MIKE\n Working out.\n \n JACKIE\n Is he gonna do it every morning?\n \n MIKE\n In season. Yeah.\n \n Beat.\n \n JACKIE\n I hate you.\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n \n INT.", "The entire\n family is waiting for them. Jackie gives Kyle a big hug. Abby\n takes his hand. They all get into their car. Mike is just\n about to get in but then he sees Cindy standing by her car\n watching. He shuts his door and crosses to her.\n \n MIKE\n Why are you here?\n \n CINDY\n I wanted to see my son wrestle.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well your son had a pretty\n good chance to do something special", " \n Jackie is waiting. Kyle is on the hot seat. Mike is watching.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle?\n \n Kyle can barely look at her.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n We can't help you if you don't tell\n us what's going on. Is there a\n reason you don't want to go home?\n \n Kyle remains silent.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What happened to your eye, Kyle?", "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", "KYLE\n I have enough money. But thanks.\n \n The bus pulls up.\n \n MIKE\n Well, good luck, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah. You too, Mike.\n \n Kyle gets on the bus. Mike watches it pull away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. The phone rings and Mike\n answers the phone.", ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", " MIKE\n Hey, it's alright.\n \n Mike puts his arm on his shoulder and Kyle starts to cry.\n Mike squeezes him.\n \n KYLE\n I don't want to go with her. I\n don't.\n \n MIKE\n OK, pal. OK.\n \n \n EXT. UNION HIGH SCHOOL, PARKING LOT - LATER.\n \n Mike, Terry and Kyle walk out of the school.", "hang for a moment?\n (TO KYLE)\n Hey, I have to take this. I'll be\n right in, OK? We can talk in a\n minute.\n \n Kyle walks inside. Mike watches him go, already regretting\n the lie. He exhales...\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (INTO PHONE)\n Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting.\n Yeah. How are you doing?\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE", "KE\n It was the police. They have Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What? Why?\n \n MIKE\n Breaking and entering.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n What?\n \n \n EXT. POLICE STATION - LATER.\n \n Mike and Kyle walk out of the New Providence Police Station.\n \n MIKE\n So what happened?\n \n KYLE\n ", "(CONT'D)\n Hey, you sure we should do this?\n \n MIKE\n Why not? Whether he's here for two\n more days or two weeks it gives him\n something to do all day. Unless you\n want him hanging out here?\n \n JACKIE\n OK. Go.\n \n \n INT. NEW PROVIDENCE HIGHSCHOOL, MAIN OFFICE - DAY.\n \n Mike and Kyle are waiting. After a moment, STEVE DELUCA" ], [ " \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n How did you get here, pal?\n \n Mike stoops over and tries to connect with Leo.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n (GENTLY)\n Did you walk here, Leo?\n \n Leo turns and looks at them as if he is about to speak. The\n all wait for his reply and then...\n \n KYLE (O.S.)\n I brought him here.\n \n They all jump.\n ", "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", " KYLE\n (VERY CALMLY)\n Making spaghetti.\n \n MIKE\n Have you lost your mind?\n \n KYLE\n No.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle, why did you do this? Please\n just tell us. Leo needs to be in a\n home.\n \n KYLE\n This is where he belongs.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle he needs to be at Oak Knoll.\n ", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", " CONTINUED:\n \n MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n KYLE\n Hi.\n \n LEO\n Come on in. I'll turn off the TV.\n \n \n INT. OAK KNOLL SENIOR LIVING, LEO'S ROOM - SAME.\n \n Leo turns off the TV and then turns and looks at Kyle. He\n doesn't recognize him.\n \n MIKE\n This is", "the whistle and Kyle and the Other Wrestler lock up.\n They dance a bit and finally the Other Wrestler tries to wrap\n Kyle up. Kyle back pedals and then literally throws the Other\n Wrestler off the mat. The Ref has seen enough. He quickly\n issues Kyle his second warning and disqualifies him from the\n match. It's over.\n \n The Other Wrestler pops up and runs at Kyle. Kyle responds.\n The Coaches all intervene. It's a melee.\n \n \n INT", "Cindy can only cry and nod. Kyle grabs the paper and runs out\n the door.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S HOUSE - LATER.\n \n Mike paces around talking on the phone.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Thanks, Karen. I appreciate it.\n Bye.\n \n Jackie walks into the room.\n \n JACKIE\n Anything?\n \n MIKE\n He's not at Stemler's.\n", "!\n \n Mike looks at Jackie.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Kyle, listen -\n \n KYLE\n I want to be alone.\n \n MIKE\n What?\n \n KYLE\n (Without looking at them)\n I JUST WANT TO BE DOWN HERE ALONE!\n \n MIKE\n OK. All right. Yeah.\n \n Jackie and Mike turn and start to walk upstairs but Jackie\n stops.\n ", "t have to worry about us.\n \n Kyle walks out of the room.\n \n TERRY\n OK. That's super spooky. Just\n saying.\n \n \n INT. LEO POPLAR'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Kyle walks into the kitchen, he turns off a pot of boiling\n water and strains some pasta.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle, What the hell are you doing?\n \n ", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/", "KE\n It was the police. They have Kyle.\n \n JACKIE\n What? Why?\n \n MIKE\n Breaking and entering.\n \n Mike gets up.\n \n JACKIE\n What?\n \n \n EXT. POLICE STATION - LATER.\n \n Mike and Kyle walk out of the New Providence Police Station.\n \n MIKE\n So what happened?\n \n KYLE\n ", " \n Jackie is waiting. Kyle is on the hot seat. Mike is watching.\n \n JACKIE\n Kyle?\n \n Kyle can barely look at her.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n We can't help you if you don't tell\n us what's going on. Is there a\n reason you don't want to go home?\n \n Kyle remains silent.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n What happened to your eye, Kyle?", " JACKIE\n Mike?\n \n Mike can't answer. Kyle's seen enough.\n \n KYLE\n You're just like her.\n \n He runs out. They all give chase.\n \n \n EXT. LEO POPLAR'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike runs outside and see's Kyle crossing the lawn. He\n quickly catches up to him. Terry and Jackie follow close\n behind.\n \n ", "time and then suddenly,\n without warning, pounces on his mother pinning her to the\n bed. She screams. He gets in her face.\n \n KYLE\n Shut up! Shut up!\n \n She finally quiets. Terrified.\n \n KYLE (CONT'D)\n Listen to me! I don't care about\n this. It's all bullshit. Leave Leo\n alone. He belongs here. Do you hear\n me? Do you?\n \n ", "Kyle Timmons, Leo. He's\n your grandson. He came from Ohio to\n see you.\n \n LEO\n I don't have a Grandson.\n \n KYLE\n Yeah, you do. We just never met.\n \n LEO\n Are you bringing me home?\n \n Kyle looks to Mike, unsure of what to say.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle's just here for a visit, Leo.\n \n LEO\n", "tries to push Mike back.\n \n KYLE\n Don't touch me!\n \n Mike deflects Kyle and Kyle spills to the ground.\n \n TERRY\n Oh shit.\n \n Kyle gets up and starts to circle Mike. Mike has no choice\n but reciprocate.\n \n MIKE\n Would you let me explain?!\n \n KYLE\n Explain what? How you lied to me?\n How you lied to Leo?\n ", ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", "\n TERRY (O.S.)\n Hey. Kyle's here.\n \n MIKE\n Really?\n (TO CINDY)\n We found him.\n \n \n INT. TERRY'S CONDO - SAME.\n \n Terry looks into the other room. Kyle is playing on the Wii.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. We're playing Wii Golf. I'm\n destroying him. Dude, this kid\n really hates his mother", "this Jackie Flaherty.\n Kyle is staying with us. Hello?\n (She closes the phone)\n I'm gonna kill that lady.\n \n She sets the phone down and turns. Kyle is standing on the\n stairs. His hair is wet and he's carrying his towel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hi. I heard your phone ringing\n and...\n \n KYLE\n You answered it?\n \n JACKIE\n Yeah," ], [ "turns and waves Kyle over.\n \n Kyle look to Jackie who gives him the OK. He walks over as\n Mike steps away. He just looks at his mother. She gently\n touches his face. He doesn't move.\n \n Everyone looks on as Cindy says a few words to Kyle, hugs him\n hard and then quickly turns and walks away. Kyle watches her\n go.\n \n \n EXT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING.\n \n A cro", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", "Cindy. She is barely holding it\n together.\n \n MIKE\n Hi Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Hi. Is your deal still available?\n \n Mike tries to conceal his shock.\n \n MIKE\n What about Kyle?\n \n Cindy and Eleanor share a look.\n \n CINDY\n He can stay.\n \n MIKE\n Then yes. It is.\n 5/15/", " \n CINDY\n It's the court transcript from when\n Leo was in court. My lawyer got it.\n Read the parts in yellow. See what\n it says.\n \n Kyle reluctantly reads it.\n \n KYLE\n This isn't real. The Judge told Leo\n he had to live there.\n \n CINDY\n No, honey. This is official from\n the court. It's what Mike said.\n \n Kyle reads it again.\n ", "Cindy can only cry and nod. Kyle grabs the paper and runs out\n the door.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S HOUSE - LATER.\n \n Mike paces around talking on the phone.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Thanks, Karen. I appreciate it.\n Bye.\n \n Jackie walks into the room.\n \n JACKIE\n Anything?\n \n MIKE\n He's not at Stemler's.\n", " \n She leaves. Kyle walks over the couch and picks up his phone.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING.\n \n Mike and Jackie are sleeping. A sound from downstairs. Then a\n door opens and shut. Mike sits up and listens.\n \n JACKIE\n Is that Abby?\n \n MIKE\n If it is, she just ran away.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACK", "\n TERRY (O.S.)\n Hey. Kyle's here.\n \n MIKE\n Really?\n (TO CINDY)\n We found him.\n \n \n INT. TERRY'S CONDO - SAME.\n \n Terry looks into the other room. Kyle is playing on the Wii.\n \n TERRY\n Yeah. We're playing Wii Golf. I'm\n destroying him. Dude, this kid\n really hates his mother", "I'm so glad\n you came.\n \n She steps back and he enters.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Have a seat, honey. Do you want a\n soda or something?\n \n He sits on one bed.\n \n KYLE\n No. What do you want?\n \n She sits on the other facing him.\n \n CINDY\n I just wanted to say how sorry I\n was about the match and if I did\n ", "this Jackie Flaherty.\n Kyle is staying with us. Hello?\n (She closes the phone)\n I'm gonna kill that lady.\n \n She sets the phone down and turns. Kyle is standing on the\n stairs. His hair is wet and he's carrying his towel.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hi. I heard your phone ringing\n and...\n \n KYLE\n You answered it?\n \n JACKIE\n Yeah,", " \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n He gets paid for being Leo's\n guardian, Kyle. And then he just\n put him in that place so he didn't\n have to worry about him.\n \n Kyle stares at the page.\n \n CINDY (CONT'D)\n Leo belongs with us, Kyle.\n \n KYLE\n Why?\n \n Cindy is caught of guard by the question.\n \n CINDY\n ", "that's what you\n want. But I have to be honest, I'm\n not sure that's what Leo wants.\n \n KYLE\n What do you mean?\n \n CINDY\n Here. Read this.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 102\n CONTINUED:\n \n She hands him a piece of paper.\n \n KYLE\n What is it?\n ", "\n \n Kyle shifts. Avoiding.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n Kyle. You can trust us.\n \n Kyle looks up at them. Trust is obviously an issue.\n \n KYLE\n I can't live there anymore.\n \n JACKIE\n With your Mom? Did she do that to\n your eye?\n \n KYLE\n No. She's not even there. She's in\n a clinic or hospital or whatever.", " \n KYLE\n Not really.\n \n JACKIE\n Don't lie to me. Look.\n \n Jackie lifts her pant leg. She has a small tatoo on her\n ankle.\n \n JACKIE (CONT'D)\n I got it on Spring Break. Hurt like\n hell.\n \n KYLE\n What's it say?\n \n JACKIE\n JBJ. Jon Bon Jovi. I'", "!\n \n Mike looks at Jackie.\n \n MIKE\n Hey, Kyle, listen -\n \n KYLE\n I want to be alone.\n \n MIKE\n What?\n \n KYLE\n (Without looking at them)\n I JUST WANT TO BE DOWN HERE ALONE!\n \n MIKE\n OK. All right. Yeah.\n \n Jackie and Mike turn and start to walk upstairs but Jackie\n stops.\n ", "The entire\n family is waiting for them. Jackie gives Kyle a big hug. Abby\n takes his hand. They all get into their car. Mike is just\n about to get in but then he sees Cindy standing by her car\n watching. He shuts his door and crosses to her.\n \n MIKE\n Why are you here?\n \n CINDY\n I wanted to see my son wrestle.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah, well your son had a pretty\n good chance to do something special", "anything to cause it then I will\n never forgive myself. I know how\n much wrestling means to you, baby.\n \n KYLE\n Is that why you called me. Just to\n tell me that?\n \n CINDY\n No. I also wanted to say that I'll\n do whatever you think is best for\n Leo. I promise.\n \n KYLE\n Then leave him here. Where he is.\n \n CINDY\n OK. I will. If", "pa. I missed you so much.\n Can I have a hug, baby?\n \n Kyle looks at Leo who just shrugs. Finally, he walks toward\n her but then veers away and runs from the room.\n \n LEO\n Where's he going?\n \n CINDY\n Oh, he's just had to go somewhere,\n Dad. Do you want some juice?\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, LIVING ROOM - NIGHT", "d you get down here?\n \n KYLE\n The window.\n \n JACKIE\n Are you hungry? I was gonna make\n some pancakes.\n \n KYLE\n No. I'm leaving. I just came to get\n my shit.\n \n They share a look and walk over to Kyle.\n \n MIKE\n Kyle, listen, I just wanted to say\n I'm sorry...\n \n KYLE\n I know", ". They arrive at Mike's\n car and Mike talks to Kyle over the roof.\n \n MIKE\n So let me ask you something, Kyle.\n How good are you?\n \n Kyle just looks at Mike, almost blank.\n \n KYLE\n I'm pretty good.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, MIKE'S OFFICE NOOK - LATER.\n \n Mike is looking at his computer screen.\n \n ", " Oh. You want to watch TV?\n \n KYLE\n OK.\n \n Leo turns on the TV and sits down. Kyle joins him.\n \n MIKE\n OK. So I'll come back to pick you\n up in an hour. You OK?\n \n KYLE\n Yeah.\n \n MIKE\n You alright, Leo?\n (Leo doesn't respond)\n OK, see you in a bit.\n 5/15/" ], [ ".\n \n Terry tries to help him but it's only seems to annoy Mike.\n \n MIKE TERRY\n Get off me! Just lie down.\n \n MIKE\n No! It's wet. I don't want to lie\n down.\n \n TERRY\n Who cares? You might be dying. Are\n you cold? Do you feel cold?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm lying on the ground.\n \n TERR", " \n MIKE\n Yeah. Of course. After school.\n \n ELEANOR\n I'll have my office call. Come on\n Cindy.\n \n CINDY\n Thanks Mike.\n \n Mike nods and Eleanor and Cindy leave. Mike watches them go.\n CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.\n \n \n EXT. QUICK CHECK - LATER.\n \n Mike walks out of the Convenience Store", ".\n The guy did crap work. Can you\n believe that? That little scumbag!\n \n \n MIKE VIGMAN\n Jesus. All they care about is\n getting paid. Makes me sick.\n No one wants to do the work\n anymore.\n \n MIKE\n How much to fix it, Vig? Did he\n say?\n \n VIGMAN\n Six grand to replace everything.\n \n MIKE\n Holy shit.\n \n ", " \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER\n \n Mike is eating lunch at his desk. He hears a noise and looks\n out the back window and see's Vigman pulling a LARGE ROLL OF\n PLASTIC TARP out of the trunk of his car.\n 5/15/10 - FULL SHOOTING SCRIPT - WIN WIN 9\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE, BATHROOM - LATER\n \n", "\n He takes a hard look himself in the mirror, almost as if he's\n steeling himself for something.\n \n Mike smiles.\n \n \n INT. BAR - NIGHT.\n \n Terry walks in and crosses to the bar. He sits down.\n \n TERRY\n Can I get a banana daiquiri,\n please?\n \n The Bartender turns. It's Mike.\n \n MIKE\n Sure.\n \n Mike opens", "\n \n MIKE\n I know.\n \n JACKIE\n So then tell her you changed your\n mind. No one can question that.\n \n MIKE\n I can't, Jack.\n \n JACKIE\n Why not?\n \n MIKE\n Because it's not true.\n \n JACKIE\n Well I'm glad your done lying now,\n just in time to lose your practice.\n That's how we survive", " Mike and Cindy are driving.\n \n MIKE\n I'm really sorry about this.\n \n CINDY\n That's okay. Thanks.\n \n MIKE\n You know Kyle's doing really well\n with wrestling here, Cindy. The\n regions are this weekend and if he\n wins there then he goes to the\n states.\n \n CINDY\n That's great.\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. It is and", " \n MIKE\n I'm sorry, Jack. I really am.\n \n JACKIE\n I know.\n \n A noise from the basement. Mike heads down the stairs.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Jackie and Mike walk downstairs. Kyle is angrily gathering\n his stuff and putting it in his back pack.\n \n JACKIE\n Hey Kyle. How'", " JACKIE\n You moved an old man out of his\n house to make money? Have you lost\n your freaking mind?\n \n MIKE\n No! I just didn't think it would\n get this complicated.\n \n JACKIE\n Really? Or you just didn't think\n you'd get caught?\n \n This stops Mike in his tracks. He can't answer. Jackie turns\n and walks away.\n \n MIKE\n Jack! Jack, where are you", "\n \n EXT. MIKE'S OFFICE, PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS.\n \n Mike parks his car as a WORKMAN walks up from the basement of\n the house and gets into his VAN and pulls away.\n \n Mike gets out of his car and walks toward the back door\n carrying his briefcase. He stops at the basement steps.\n \n MIKE\n Vig?\n \n VOICE\n Down here.\n \n Mike walks down", "Who do\n I have at ten-thirty?\n \n SHELLY\n (APOLOGETICALLY)\n Frank.\n \n MIKE\n Great.\n \n \n INT. MIKE'S OFFICE - LATER.\n \n Mike is sitting with FRANK, an elderly man, jotting notes.\n \n MIKE\n And you think your son stole it?\n \n FRANK\n Yeah. I know he did", "tries to push Mike back.\n \n KYLE\n Don't touch me!\n \n Mike deflects Kyle and Kyle spills to the ground.\n \n TERRY\n Oh shit.\n \n Kyle gets up and starts to circle Mike. Mike has no choice\n but reciprocate.\n \n MIKE\n Would you let me explain?!\n \n KYLE\n Explain what? How you lied to me?\n How you lied to Leo?\n ", " MIKE (CONT'D)\n That's right. She's not and she\n doesn't and that's my play.\n \n TERRY\n What's your play?\n \n Mike takes out his phone and dials.\n \n MIKE\n Don't worry about it. I just need\n to make a call. Can you get\n practice started?\n \n TERRY\n Really? You want me to slap your\n face? Get you psyched up", " MIKE\n Yeah.\n \n JACKIE\n You sure?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I'm good. Why?\n \n JACKIE\n Just checking.\n \n MIKE\n OK. Bye guy's.\n \n ABBY\n Can I have more juice?\n \n Mike leaves. Jackie is not convinced.\n \n JACKIE\n Just a minute.\n 5/15/10 - F", ". It's been a slow\n month on this end and I was...\n \n Mike listens. The news from Dunleavy isn't good.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Oh. OK. No, yeah of course. I\n appreciate that. Thanks, Tom. Bye.\n \n Mike hangs up the phone and sits at his desk. After a moment,\n he slams his hand on the desk. And then something catches his\n eye. It's LEO POPLAR'S", "(Mike hangs up)\n He went to my friend's house. We\n can go get him.\n \n CINDY\n Maybe I'll just go back to the\n hotel. It might just be too much\n for him tonight. I can see him\n tomorrow.\n \n MIKE\n You sure?\n \n CINDY\n Yeah. I think maybe that's better.\n I know how Kyle can be.\n \n MIKE\n OK. I'll", " VIGMAN\n That clanking is driving me nuts.\n Can't you hear it down in your\n office?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I just figured it's old.\n \n VIGMAN\n Well it is but he took one look at\n it and said we should replace it\n before it blows.\n \n MIKE\n What?! We just had it fixed three\n months ago.\n \n VIGMAN\n Yeah, he said that job was crap", "action. Kyle gets up and Mike checks in with him.\n \n MIKE (CONT'D)\n Hey! You OK?\n \n KYLE\n (SLIGHT SMILE)\n Yeah.\n \n Kyle gets into the bottom position.\n \n VIGMAN\n Did he smile?\n \n MIKE\n Yeah. I think he did.\n \n TERRY\n Good. That's good, right?\n \n The Ref blows", " \n MIKE\n Wow. He's gonna throw him. Look,\n he's setting him up. He's setting\n him up!\n \n Mike and Terry explode. They high five and hug.\n \n \n INT. MIKE AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, FOYER - MORNING.\n \n Kyle is standing, waiting. Jackie walks out with her purse.\n \n JACKIE\n Here's five dollars for lunch. I\n have no idea what", "it's that bad.\n \n TERRY\n Just take her to court, you'll kill\n her.\n \n MIKE\n I can't.\n \n TERRY\n Why not? She's a freaking mess.\n You're a pillar of the community,\n Mike.\n \n MIKE\n I just can't go back in front of\n Judge Lee, it won't look good,\n trust me.\n \n T" ] ]

[ "What does the judge appoint Mike as for his client, Leo?", "Which of Leo's relatives moves in with Mike and Jackie?", "What treatment is Kyle's mom receiving when Kyle first comes to New Providence?", "What activity does Kyle participate in at Mike's school?", "Who tells Kyle that Leo is supposed to be kept at home, not at the elderly home?", "What financial incentive does Mike offer Cindy?", "What does Mike ask for in exchange for the stipend?", "Who moves in with Mike and Jackie permanently?", "After giving up the stipend, what new job does Mike take up?", "Why does Mike become Leo's guardian?", "Where is Kyle's mom?", "What is Mike's third job?", "What surprising talent of Kyle's is helpful to Mike?", "Why does Cindy attempt to get custody of her father?", "What action does Mike regret and rectify by the end of the story?", "How does Mike convince Cindy to leave without Leo?", "How much of Leo's estate has been promised to Cindy?", "Who insists that Kyle move in with the Flaherty family?", "What disease does Leo suffer from?", "What does Mike moonlight as?", "Who does Mike ask a judge to appoint him as a legal guardian?", "What does Mike do after he is appointed as a guardian over Leo?", "How much money does he get for Leo every month?", "Who shows up looking for Leo?", "Where is Kyle's mom?", "What does Mike and Jackie decide to do with Kyle?", "What do they discover about Kyle?", "What did Cindy show Kyle?", "How does Mike fix his mistake?" ]

[ [ "his guardian", "guardian" ], [ "Leo's grandson, Kyle", "his grandson Kyle" ], [ "She is in rehab.", "She is in rehab." ], [ "wrestling", "wrestling." ], [ "Cindy", "Cindy" ], [ "the guardian stipend", "monthy stipend of $1,508" ], [ "Mike wants Cindy to leave Kyle and Leo in Mike's care.", "For leaving Leo and Kyle in his care." ], [ "Kyle", "Kyle" ], [ "bartending", "Bar tending." ], [ "Mike is having financial issues.", "Because he has dementia. " ], [ "Rehab.", "Living with her boyfriend." ], [ "Bartender.", "Bartending" ], [ "Kyle is a good wrestler. ", "wrestling" ], [ "She is trying to get control of his estate. ", "he has a large estate" ], [ "Mike regrets sending Leo to a retirement home.", "Putting his father in a elderly home." ], [ "He gives her the monthly stipend he received as Leo's guardian.", "Gives her the monthly stipend. " ], [ "None.", "None." ], [ "Mike's wife Jackie.", "Mike and Jackie" ], [ "Dementia.", "Dementia" ], [ "A wrestling coach.", "Wrestling coach." ], [ "Leo", "Leo" ], [ "Moves him to a senior care facility. ", "Puts him in a nursing home." ], [ "1508.00", "$1,508" ], [ "His grandson Kyle.", "Kyle's mother, Cindy" ], [ "She is in rehab.", "Rehab " ], [ "Let him live with them.", "let him move in with them permanently" ], [ "That he is a talented wrestler.", "He is a good wrestler" ], [ "Papers saying Mike is supposed to keep Leo.", "court documents." ], [ "He returns Leo to his home and give the stipend to Cindy to leave them alone.", "He offers Cindy the monthly stipend and both Leo and Kyle live with him." ] ]

[ [ "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "man; \"we mean business this\ntime. The last war wasn't a war, it was a snap. We weren't prepared and\nthey were. That won't happen again, bless you. I know what I'm talking\nabout. I go up and down the country, and I hear what people are saying.\"\n\nYeovil privately doubted if he ever heard anything but his own opinions.\n\n\"It stands to reason,\" continued the fisherman, \"that a highly civilised\nrace like ours, with the record that we've had", "voting power was in their hands. They had not the leisure, however,\nto sit down and think clearly what the danger was; their own industrial\nwarfare was more real to them than anything that was threatening from the\nnation that they only knew from samples of German clerks and German\nwaiters.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" said Cicely, \"as regards the hunting, there is no Civil\nWar or national war raging just now, and there is no immediate likelihood\nof one. A good many hunting seasons will have to come and go before we\ncan think of a war", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "of universal brotherhood which did\nnot blunt a single Teuton bayonet when the hour came. I suppose in time\nparty divisions will reassert themselves in some form or other; there\nwill be a Socialist Party, and the mercantile and manufacturing interests\nwill evolve a sort of bourgeoise party, and the different religious\nbodies will try to get themselves represented--\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience.\n\n\"All these things that you forecast,\" he said, \"must take time,\nconsiderable time; is this nightmare, then", "the\nnew war taxation that the people are finding so burdensome.\"\n\n\"One certainly cannot say that they have not had attractions held out to\nthem,\" said Sir Leonard.\n\n\"It is a special effort,\" said Lady Bailquist; \"it is worth making an\neffort for. They are going to be the Janissaries of the Empire; the\nyounger generation knocking at the doors of progress, and thrusting back\nthe bars and bolts of old racial prejudices. I tell you, Sir Leonard, it\nwill be an historic moment", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "of of his voice, like a hen calling to a brood of roving chickens.\n\n\"They grew soft,\" he resumed; \"great world-commerce brings great luxury,\nand luxury brings softness. They had everything to warn them, things\nhappening in their own time and before their eyes, and they would not be\nwarned. They had seen, in one generation, the rise of the military and\nnaval power of the Japanese, a brown-skinned race living in some island\nrice fields in a tropical sea, a people one thought of in connection with\n", ". Peace is what God gives us when He\ntakes us into His rest. Beat your sword into a ploughshare if you like,\nbut beat your enemy into smithereens first.\"\n\nA long-drawn cry, repeated again and again, detached itself from the\nthrob and hoot and whir of the street traffic.\n\n\"Speshul! Military service, spesh-ul!\"\n\nThe young clergyman sprang from his seat and went up the staircase in a\nsuccession of bounds, causing the domino players and novelette readers", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "for leading the whole\nworld, is not going to be held under for long by a lot of damned sausage-\neating Germans. Don't you believe it! I know what I'm talking about.\nI've travelled about the world a bit.\"\n\nYeovil shrewdly suspected that the world travels amounted to nothing more\nthan a trip to the United States and perhaps the Channel Islands, with,\npossibly, a week or fortnight in Paris.\n\n\"It isn't the past we've got to think of, it's the", "uced perhaps by an earlier apprenticeship to the reading of Nineteenth\nCentury articles, in which the possible political and racial developments\nof various countries were examined and discussed and put away in the\npigeon-holes of probable happenings. She had sufficient knowledge of\npolitical history to know that such a development might possibly come to\npass, she had not sufficient insight into actual conditions to know that\nthe possibility was as remote as that of armed resistance. And the role\nwhich she saw herself playing was that of a deft and courtly political\nintriguer, rallying the", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "\"but he'll come back naturally feeling sore and savage\nwith everything he sees around him, and he won't realise just at once\nthat we've been through all that ourselves, and have reached the stage of\nsullen acquiescence in what can't be helped. He won't understand, for\ninstance, how we can be enthusiastic and excited over Gorla Mustelford's\ndebut, and things of that sort; he'll think we are a set of callous\nrevellers, fiddling while Rome is burning.\"\n\n\"In this", "le,\nwith the explosive articulation of one who cannot any longer hold back a\ntruth.\n\n\"Hark!\" said some one; \"I hear trumpets!\"\n\nThere was an instant concentration of listening, a straining of eyes.\n\nIt was only the toot of a passing motorcar. Even Sir Leonard Pitherby,\nwith the eye of faith, could not locate as much as a cloud of dust on the\nPark horizon.\n\nAnd now another sound was heard, a sound difficult to define, without\nbeginning, without dimension; the growing murmur of", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the", "\nthese were blows over the heart, and that it was a matter of moments\nbefore we were counted out. One might liken the whole affair to a snap\ncheckmate early in a game of chess; one side had thought out the moves,\nand brought the requisite pieces into play, the other side was hampered\nand helpless, with its resources unavailable, its strategy discounted in\nadvance. That, in a nutshell, is the history of the war.\"\n\nYeovil was silent for a moment or two, then he asked:\n\n\"", "the war,\nbut they are beginning to get back their votaries because out-door sport\nhas become a necessity, and a very rational necessity, with numbers of\nmen who have to work otherwise under unnatural and exacting conditions.\nThat is one factor of the situation. The other affects London more\nespecially, but through London it influences the rest of the country to a\ncertain extent. You will see around you here much that will strike you\nas indications of heartless indifference to the calamity that has\nbefallen our nation. Well, you must remember that many things", "scare-mongers,' and their\nverdict was for the vote-mongers all the time. And now they are bitter;\nthey are being punished, and punishment is not a thing that they have\nbeen schooled to bear. The taxes that are falling on them are a grievous\nsource of discontent, and the military service that will be imposed on\nthem, for the first time in their lives, will be another. There is a\nmore lovable side to their character under misfortune, though,\" added the\nyoung clergyman. \"Deep" ], [ " GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN WILLIAM CAME***\n\n\n\n\nTranscribed from the 1914 John Lane edition by David Price,\nccx074@coventry.ac.uk\n\n\n\n\n\nWHEN WILLIAM CAME\n\n\nCHAPTER I: THE SINGING-BIRD AND THE BAROMETER\n\n\nCicely Yeovil sat in a low swing chair, alternately looking at herself in\na mirror and at the other occupant of the room in the flesh. ", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "and it\nwill ruin him. I speak feelingly because I'm gravitating towards\nplumpness myself. The Divine Architect turns us out fearfully and\nwonderfully built, and the result is charming to the eye, and then He\nadds another chin and two or three extra inches round the waist, and the\neffect is ruined. Fortunately you can always find another Ronnie when\nthis one grows fat and uninteresting; the supply of boys who look nice\nand eat asparagus is unlimited. Hullo, Mr. Storre, we were all", "good will and\ngood nature which disarmed strangers and recent acquaintances; on getting\nto know her better they hastily re-armed themselves. Some one had once\naptly described her as a hedgehog with the protective mimicry of a\npuffball. If there was an awkward remark to be made at an inconvenient\nmoment before undesired listeners, Joan invariably made it, and when the\noccasion did not present itself she was usually capable of creating it.\nShe was not without a certain popularity, the sort of popularity that a\ndashing highwayman", "Shalem to Herr von Kwarl, whom she was conveying in her electric brougham\nto Cicely Yeovil's supper party; \"an important evening,\" she added,\nchoosing her adjectives with deliberation. \"It should give pleasure in\nhigh quarters, should it not?\"\n\nAnd she turned her observant eyes on the impassive face of her companion.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" he replied with deliberation and meaning, \"it has given\npleasure. It is an evening to be remembered.\"\n\nThe gracious lady suppressed", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "is he?\"\n\n\"In one of the hussar regiments quartered here; a friend of the Grafin's.\nUgly but amiable, and I'm told a good cross-country rider. I suppose\nMurrey will be disgusted at meeting the 'outward and visible sign' under\nhis roof, but these encounters are inevitable as long as he is in\nLondon.\"\n\n\"I didn't know Murrey was coming,\" said Ronnie.\n\n\"I believe he's going to look in on us,\" said Cicely; \"it", "going to do a seemingly unwifely thing. I'm going to go out\nand leave you alone with an old friend. Doctor Holham is coming in to\ndrink coffee and smoke with you. I arranged this because I knew it was\nwhat you would like. Men can talk these things over best by themselves,\nand Holham can tell you everything that happened--since you went away. It\nwill be a dreary story, I'm afraid, but you will want to hear it all. It\nwas a nightmare time, but now one sees it in a calmer", "there, a wan, shrunken shadow,\nyet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those\nparrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing-\nrooms and theatre foyers.\n\nAs the carriage swung round a bend in the drive Yeovil looked back at\nTorywood, a lone, grey building, couched like a watchdog with pricked\nears and wakeful eyes in the midst of the sleeping landscape. An old\npleading voice was still ringing in his ears:\n\n Imperious and yet for", "don't know,\" confessed Yeovil; \"you see glory hasn't come very much my\nway lately.\" Then, before he exactly realised what he was doing, he\nraised his voice and quoted loudly for the benefit of half the room:\n\n \"'Other Romans shall arise,\n Heedless of a soldier's name,\n Sounds, not deeds, shall win the prize,\n Harmony the path to fame.'\"\n\nThere was a sort of shiver of surprised silence at Yeovil's end of the\nroom.\n\n\"Hell!\"\n", "what speed really was. The laughing-eyed young groom\ndisentangled the puppy from between Yeovil's legs, and then he was\nushered into the grey silence of the entrance hall, leaving sunlight and\nnoise and the stir of life behind him.\n\n\"Her ladyship will see you in her writing room,\" he was told, and he\nfollowed a servant along the dark passages to the well-remembered room.\n\nThere was something tragic in the sudden contrast between the vigour and\nyouth and pride of life that Yeovil had seen crystallised", "notes of personages to whom he\nmight send presentation copies of his new work \"Frederick-William, the\nGreat Elector, a Popular Biography,\" as a souvenir of to-day's auspicious\nevent.\n\n\"It is nearly a quarter to three now,\" he said; \"let us get a good\nposition before the crowd gets thicker.\"\n\n\"Come along to my car, it is just opposite to the saluting base,\" said\nher ladyship; \"I have a police pass that will let us through. We'll ask\nM", "room and a lively black kitten helped\nhim to dress, and incidentally helped him to require a new tassel to the\ncord of his dressing-gown. As he finished his toilet and the kitten\nfinished its sixth and most notable attack on the tassel a ring was heard\nat the front door, and a moment later a loud, hearty, and unmistakably\nhungry voice resounded in the hall. It belonged to the local doctor, who\nhad also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the\nev", "et. He had doubtless seen him at the meet that morning, but in his\nhunting kit he had escaped his observation.\n\n\"I, too, have been out with the hounds,\" the young man continued; \"I have\nleft my horse at the Crow and Sceptre at Dolford. You are living at\nBlack Dene, are you not? I can take you right past your door, it is all\non my way.\"\n\nYeovil hung back for a moment, overwhelmed with vexation and\nembarrassment, but it was too late to", "be useful,\" said Cicely, \"it would be almost historical;\nthere's no knowing who might not come to it--and things are dreadfully\nslack in the entertaining line just now.\"\n\nThe ambitious note in her character was making itself felt at that\nmoment.\n\n\"Let's go down to the library, and work out a list of people to invite,\"\nsaid Ronnie.\n\nA servant entered the room and made a brief announcement.\n\n\"Mr. Yeovil has arrived, madam.\"\n\n\"Bother,\" said Ronnie sulkily.", "in these wilds,\" said Mrs. Kerrick;\n\"he was assistant master at a private school in Scotland, but it had to\nbe given up when--when things changed; so many of the boys left the\ncountry. He came out to an uncle who has a small estate eight miles from\nhere, and three days in the week he rides over to teach my boys, and\nthree days he goes to another family living in the opposite direction. To-\nday he is due to come here. It is a great boon to have such an\nopportunity for getting the boys", "and starvation. It was just that\nnameless something that was lacking in the young musician, who stood at\nthe further end of the room, bathed in a flood of compliment and\ncongratulation, enjoying the honey-drops of his triumph.\n\nLuton pushed his way through the crowd and left the room, without\ntroubling to take leave of his hostess.\n\n\"What a strange young man,\" exclaimed the Duchess; \"now do take me into\nthe next room,\" she went on almost in the same breath, \"I'm just dying", "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw" ], [ "of the train at a small, clean, wayside station, and\nrapidly formed the conclusion that neatness, abundant leisure, and a\ndevotion to the cultivation of wallflowers and wyandottes were the\nprevailing influences of the station-master's life. The train slid away\ninto the hazy distance of trees and meadows, and left the traveller\nstanding in a world that seemed to be made up in equal parts of rock\ngarden, chicken coops, and whiskey advertisements. The station-master,\nwho appeared also to act as", "he had been\nat a loss to account for. The Londoner is not well adapted for the\nirresponsible noisiness of jesting tongue that bubbles up naturally in a\nSouthern race, and the effort to be volatile was the more noticeable\nbecause it so obviously was an effort. Turning over the pages of a book\nthat told the story of Bulgarian social life in the days of Turkish rule,\nYeovil had that morning come across a passage that seemed to throw some\nlight on the thing that had puzzled him:\n\n\"Bondage has this one", "ant\npulse of youth and mastery set to loud Pagan music. A group of lads from\nthe tea-shop clustered on the pavement and watched the troops go by,\nstaring at a phase of life in which they had no share. The martial\ntrappings, the swaggering joy of life, the comradeship of camp and\nbarracks, the hard discipline of drill yard and fatigue duty, the long\nsentry watches, the trench digging, forced marches, wounds, cold, hunger,\nmakeshift hospitals,", "paper fans and flowers and pretty tea-gardens, who suddenly marched and\nsailed into the world's gaze as a Great Power; they had seen, too, the\nrise of the Bulgars, a poor herd of zaptieh-ridden peasants, with a few\nstudents scattered in exile in Bukarest and Odessa, who shot up in one\ngeneration to be an armed and aggressive nation with history in its\nhands. The English saw these things happening around them, and with a\nwar-cloud growing blacker and bigger and always more threatening", "yards, and then turned down\ninto the smoking-room of a cheap tea-shop, where he judged that the\nflourishing foreign element would be less conspicuously represented.\nQuiet-voiced, smooth-headed youths, from neighbouring shops and wholesale\nhouses, sat drinking tea and munching pastry, some of them reading,\nothers making a fitful rattle with dominoes on the marble-topped tables.\nA clean, wholesome smell of tea and coffee made itself felt through the\nclouds of cigarette smoke; cleanliness and list", "enough to establish the novelty of the thing. Among other things she\ndoes a dance suggesting the life of a fern; I saw one of the rehearsals,\nand to me it would have equally well suggested the life of John Wesley.\nHowever, that is probably the fault of my imagination--I've either got\ntoo much or too little. Anyhow it is an understood thing that she is to\ntake London by storm.\"\n\n\"When I last saw Gorla Mustelford,\" observed Yeovil, \"she was a rather\nserious flapper who thought the", "\nstyle of dancing that might best be labelled a conscientious departure\nfrom accepted methods. The highly imaginative titles that she had\nbestowed on her dances, the \"Life of a fern,\" the \"Soul-dream of a\ntopaz,\" and so forth, at least gave her audience and her critics\nsomething to talk about. In themselves they meant absolutely nothing,\nbut they induced discussion, and that to Gorla meant a great deal. It\nwas a season of dearth and emptiness in the footlights and box-office\nworld, and her performance", ". Movable screens of trellis-trained foliage and climbing\nroses formed little hedges by means of which any particular table could\nbe shut off from its neighbours if semi-privacy were desired. One or two\ndecorative advertisements of popularised brands of champagne and Rhine\nwines adorned the outside walls of the building, and under the central\ngable of its upper story was a flamboyant portrait of a stern-faced man,\nwhose image and superscription might also be found on the newer coinage\nof the land. A mass", "deathless letters, and his successors in the title had perpetuated the\nhobby. Little lawns and ponds and shrubberies were partitioned off for\nthe various ground-loving species, and higher cages with interlacing\nperches and rockwork shelves accommodated the birds whose natural\nexpression of movement was on the wing. Quails and francolins scurried\nabout under low-growing shrubs, peacock-pheasants strutted and sunned\nthemselves, pugnacious ruffs engaged in perfunct", "\nmattered. Hunting-box and stable and gun-room dwindled to a mere pin-\npoint in the universe, there were other larger, more absorbing things on\nwhich the mind dwelt. There was the grey cold sea outside Dover and\nPortsmouth and Cork, where the great grey ships of war rocked and swung\nwith the tides, where the sailors sang, in doggerel English, that bitter-\nsounding adaptation, \"Germania rules t'e waves,\" where the flag of a\nWorld-Power floated for the world to see", "and\ngenerally afternoon, a land where bees hummed among the wild thyme and in\nthe flower beds of cottage gardens, where the harvest-mice rustled amid\nthe corn and nettles, and the mill-race flowed cool and silent through\nwater-weeds and dark tunnelled sluices, and made soft droning music with\nthe wooden mill-wheel. And the music carried with it the wording of old\nundying rhymes, and sang of the jolly, uncaring, uncared-for miller, of\nthe farmer who went riding upon", ". And in oven-like cities of\nIndia there were men who looked out at the white sun-glare, the\nheat-baked dust, the welter of crowded streets, who listened to the\nunceasing chorus of harsh-throated crows, the strident creaking of cart-\nwheels, the buzz and drone of insect swarms and the rattle call of the\ntree lizards; men whose thoughts went hungrily to the cool grey skies and\nwet turf and moist ploughlands of an English hunting country, men whose", "and\nmingled its applause with demands for an earlier favourite. The\norchestra struck up the familiar air, and in a few moments the smart\nerrand-boy, transformed now into a smart jockey, was singing \"They quaff\nthe gay bubbly in Eccleston Square\" to an audience that hummed and nodded\nits unstinted approval.\n\nThe next number but one was the Gorla Mustelford debut, and the house\nsettled itself down to yawn and fidget and chatter for ten or twelve\nminutes while a troupe of talented Japanese jug", "there, a wan, shrunken shadow,\nyet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those\nparrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing-\nrooms and theatre foyers.\n\nAs the carriage swung round a bend in the drive Yeovil looked back at\nTorywood, a lone, grey building, couched like a watchdog with pricked\nears and wakeful eyes in the midst of the sleeping landscape. An old\npleading voice was still ringing in his ears:\n\n Imperious and yet for", "ucked and chattered as you passed, the hearty greeting and pleasant\ngossip in farmhouse kitchens and market-day bar-parlours--all these\nremembered delights of the chase marshalled themselves in the brain, and\nmade a cumulative appeal that came with special intensity to a man who\nwas a little tired of his wanderings, more than a little drawn away from\nthe jarring centres of life. The hot London sunshine baking the soot-\ngrimed walls and the ugly incessant hoot and grunt of the motor traffic\ng", "\nhouse were scrupulously banished from the breakfast-room; bowls of wild\nthyme and other flowering weeds of the meadow and hedgerow gave it an\natmosphere of country freshness that was in keeping with the morning\nmeal.\n\n\"You look dreadfully tired still,\" said Cicely critically, \"otherwise I\nwould recommend a ride in the Park, before it gets too hot. There is a\nnew cob in the stable that you will just love, but he is rather lively,\nand you had better content yourself for the present with", ", and filled with a lurking, moving life of which one knew nothing\nbeyond the sense that it was there. There, and very near. If there had\nbeen wood-gods and wicked-eyed fauns in the sunlit groves and hill sides\nof old Hellas, surely there were watchful, living things of kindred mould\nin this dusk-hidden wilderness of field and hedge and coppice.\n\nIt was Yeovil's third or fourth day with the hounds, without taking into\naccount a couple of mornings' cub", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "oping and fading away when they were desired to flourish.\nAnimals, on the other hand, accepted the world as it was and made the\nbest of it, and children, at least nice children, uncontaminated by grown-\nup influences, lived in worlds of their own making.\n\nVon Kwarl held no acknowledged official position in the country of his\nresidence, but it was an open secret that those responsible for the real\ndirection of affairs sought his counsel on nearly every step that they\nmeditated, and that his counsel was very rarely disregarded. Some of the", "alluring\nneighbourhood of the farm kitchen. Away by the banks of some rushing\nmill-stream, in a setting of copse and cornfield, a village might be\nguessed at, just a hint of red roof, grey wreathed chimney and old church\ntower as seen from the windows of the passing train, and over it all\nbrooded a happy, settled calm, like the dreaming murmur of a trout-stream\nand the far-away cawing of rooks.\n\nIt was a land where it seemed as if it must be always summer" ], [ "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "Murrey, and your sex, I\nwould become a commercial traveller.\"\n\n\"A commercial traveller!\" exclaimed Yeovil.\n\n\"Yes, one whose business took him up and down the country, into contact\nwith all classes, into homes and shops and inns and railway carriages.\nAnd as I travelled I would work, work on the minds of every boy and girl\nI came across, every young father and young mother too, every young\ncouple that were going to be man and wife. I would awaken or keep alive\nin their memory the things that we", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "horses of the neighbourhood; even the foxes seemed to have a personality,\nsome of them, and a personal history. It was a little like Hans\nAndersen, he decided, and a little like the Reminiscences of an Irish\nR.M., and perhaps just a little like some of the more probable adventures\nof Baron Munchausen. The newer stories were evidently true to the\nsmallest detail, the earlier ones had altered somewhat in repetition, as\nplants and animals vary under domestication.\n\nAnd all the time there was one topic", " Try and liven things\nup a bit.\"\n\nA loud barking sound, as of fur-seals calling across Arctic ice, came\nfrom another table, where Mrs. Mentieth-Mendlesohnn (one of the\nMendlesohnns of Invergordon, as she was wont to describe herself) was\nproclaiming the glories and subtleties of Gorla's achievement.\n\n\"It was a revelation,\" she shouted; \"I sat there and saw a whole new\nscheme of thought unfold itself before my eyes. One could", "is genuinely but unseeingly addicted to\nunselfishness.\n\nAlso she kept in her armoury the weapon which can be so mightily\neffective if used sparingly by a really sincere individual--the knowledge\nof when to be a humbug. Ambition entered to a certain extent into her\nlife, and governed it perhaps rather more than she knew. She desired to\nescape from the doom of being a nonentity, but the escape would have to\nbe effected in her own way and in her own time; to be governed by\nambition was only a", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "such a mess as he is in . . . he cannot do anything, he\nis absolutely helpless, helpless.\"\n\n\"Ah, you take my bishop, do you? Much I care for that. Nothing. See, I\ngive you check. Ah, now he is in a fright! He doesn't know where to go.\nWhat a mess he is in . . . \"\n\nSo the game proceeded, with a brisk exchange of pieces and incivilities\nand a fluctuation of fortunes, till the little banker lost his queen as\nthe result", "\nmeasure. Her scheme of life was not a wholly selfish one; no one could\nunderstand what she wanted as well as she did herself, therefore she felt\nthat she was the best person to pursue her own ends and cater for her own\nwants. To have others thinking and acting for one merely meant that one\nhad to be perpetually grateful for a lot of well-meant and usually\nunsatisfactory services. It was like the case of a rich man giving a\ncommunity a free library, when probably the community only wanted free\nfishing or reduced tram-fares.", "t think all those things could make up to a falcon for the wild range\nof cliff and desert. When one has lost one's own liberty one feels a\nquicker sympathy for other caged things, I suppose.\"\n\nThere was silence for a moment, and then the Dowager went on, in a\nwistful, passionate voice:\n\n\"I am an old woman now, Murrey, I must die in my cage. I haven't the\nstrength to fight. Age is a very real and very cruel thing, though we\nmay shut our eyes to it", "saying into \"While life is with us how little of life even\nthe materialist understands.\" Most people that she knew took endless\npains and precautions to preserve and prolong their lives and keep their\npowers of enjoyment unimpaired; few, very few, seemed to make any\nintelligent effort at understanding what they really wanted in the way of\nenjoying their lives, or to ascertain what were the best means for\nsatisfying those wants. Fewer still bent their whole energies to the one\nparamount aim of getting what they wanted in the fullest possible", "there, a wan, shrunken shadow,\nyet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those\nparrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing-\nrooms and theatre foyers.\n\nAs the carriage swung round a bend in the drive Yeovil looked back at\nTorywood, a lone, grey building, couched like a watchdog with pricked\nears and wakeful eyes in the midst of the sleeping landscape. An old\npleading voice was still ringing in his ears:\n\n Imperious and yet for", "as they are. And now you are going to go a step beyond that,\nand other people will applaud you and say that you are wonderful, and\ninvite you to eat with them and motor with them and yacht with them. As\nsoon as that begins to happen, Ronnie, a lot of other things will come to\nan end. Of course I've always known that you don't really care for me,\nbut as soon as the world knows it you are irrevocably damaged as a\nplaything. That is the great secret that binds us together", "point, however, she was anxious to give her husband the impression of\nhaving been consulted, and to put her victory as far as possible on the\nfooting of a compromise. It was also rather a relief to be able to\ndiscuss the matter out of range of Joan's disconcerting tongue and\nobservant eyes.\n\n\"I hope you are not really annoyed about this silly supper-party,\" she\nsaid on the morning before the much-talked-of first night. \"I had\npledged myself to give it, so I couldn't back", "observant eyes and a well-managed voice. Her successes in life\nhad been worked for, but they were also to some considerable extent the\nresult of accident. Her public history went back to the time when, in\nthe person of her husband, Mr. Conrad Dort, she had contested two\nhopeless and very expensive Parliamentary elections on behalf of her\nparty; on each occasion the declaration of the poll had shown a heavy\nthough reduced majority on the wrong side, but she might have perpetrated\nan apt misquotation of the French monarch's traditional message after the\ndef", "'t she?\"\n\n\"The one that took my fancy most was the one in the Standard,\" said\nYeovil, picking up that paper from a table by his side and searching its\ncolumns for the notice in question. \"'The wolves which appeared earlier\nin the evening's entertainment are, the programme assures us, trained\nentirely by kindness. It would have been a further kindness, at any rate\nto the audience, if some of the training, which the wolves doubtless do\nnot appreciate at its proper value, had been expended on Miss\nMustelford", "at Schlachsenberg, though the 'Sozi' keep telling our schoolchildren\nthat it is only a Christ myth. Never mind, I will have the\nVice-President of our Landtag to listen to you; he is 'Sozi' but we are\ngood friends outside the Parliament House; you shall blay to him, my\nyoung friendt, and gonfince him that there is a Got in Heaven. You will\ngom? Yes?\"\n\n\"It was beautiful,\" said the Grafin simply; \"it made me cry. Go back to", "ously. But meanwhile it is necessary to\npreserve our industrial life and our social life, and for that reason we\nmust accommodate ourselves to present circumstances, however distasteful\nthey may be. Emigration to some colonial wilderness, or holding\nourselves rigidly aloof from the life of the capital, won't help matters.\nReally, Murrey, if you will think things over a bit, you will see that\nthe course I am following is the one dictated by sane patriotism.\"\n\n\"Whom the gods wish to render harmless they first", "\"I\nloathe it. As to fighting, one must first find out what weapon to use,\nand how to use it effectively. One must watch and wait.\"\n\n\"One must not wait too long,\" said the old woman. \"Time is on their\nside, not ours. It is the young people we must fight for now, if they\nare ever to fight for us. A new generation will spring up, a weaker\nmemory of old glories will survive, the eclat of the ruling race will\ncapture young imaginations. If I had your youth," ], [ "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw", "cancel the arrangement he had\nunwittingly entered into, and he was constrained to put himself under\nobligation to the young officer with the best grace he could muster.\nAfter all, he reflected, he had met him under his own roof as his wife's\nguest. He paid his reckoning to mine host, tipped the stable lad who had\nhelped him with his horse, and took his place beside von Gabelroth in the\ncar.\n\nAs they glided along the dark roadway and the young German reeled off a\nstring of comments on the", "Shalem to Herr von Kwarl, whom she was conveying in her electric brougham\nto Cicely Yeovil's supper party; \"an important evening,\" she added,\nchoosing her adjectives with deliberation. \"It should give pleasure in\nhigh quarters, should it not?\"\n\nAnd she turned her observant eyes on the impassive face of her companion.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" he replied with deliberation and meaning, \"it has given\npleasure. It is an evening to be remembered.\"\n\nThe gracious lady suppressed", ", and who would no doubt be willing to drop him at his\ndestination; the gentleman had also been out with the hounds. Yeovil's\nhorse could be stabled at the inn and fetched home by a groom the next\nmorning. A hurried embassy to the bar parlour resulted in the news that\nthe motorist would be delighted to be of assistance to a\nfellow-sportsman. Yeovil gratefully accepted the chance that had so\nobligingly come his way, and hastened to superintend the housing of his\nhorse in", "some joking remark, answering some question of interest, learning\nsomething of hunting ways and traditions in von Gabelroth's own country.\nAnd when the car turned in at the gate of the hunting lodge and drew up\nat the steps the laws of hospitality demanded that Yeovil should ask his\nbenefactor of the road to come in for a few minutes and drink something a\nlittle better than the wayside inn had been able to supply. The young\nofficer spent the best part of a half hour in Yeovil's snuggery,\nexamining and discussing", "I was just\ndying to see the returned traveller. Of course, I know perfectly well\nthat neither of you want me, when you haven't seen each other for so long\nand must have heaps and heaps to say to one another, but I thought I\nwould risk the odium of being the third person on an occasion when two\nare company and three are a nuisance. Wasn't it brave of me?\"\n\nShe spoke in full knowledge of the fact that the luncheon party would not\nin any case have been restricted to Yeovil and his", "point, however, she was anxious to give her husband the impression of\nhaving been consulted, and to put her victory as far as possible on the\nfooting of a compromise. It was also rather a relief to be able to\ndiscuss the matter out of range of Joan's disconcerting tongue and\nobservant eyes.\n\n\"I hope you are not really annoyed about this silly supper-party,\" she\nsaid on the morning before the much-talked-of first night. \"I had\npledged myself to give it, so I couldn't back", "and starvation. It was just that\nnameless something that was lacking in the young musician, who stood at\nthe further end of the room, bathed in a flood of compliment and\ncongratulation, enjoying the honey-drops of his triumph.\n\nLuton pushed his way through the crowd and left the room, without\ntroubling to take leave of his hostess.\n\n\"What a strange young man,\" exclaimed the Duchess; \"now do take me into\nthe next room,\" she went on almost in the same breath, \"I'm just dying", "? Isn't he?\" exclaimed a young American\nwoman, with an enthusiasm to which Lady Peach entirely failed to respond.\nShe had intended following up her story with the account of another\ntragedy of a similar nature that had befallen her three years ago in\nArgyllshire, and now the opportunity had gone. She turned morosely to\nthe consolations of a tongue salad.\n\nAt the centre table the excellent von Tolb led a chorus of congratulation\nand compliment, to which Gorla listened with an air of polite detachment,\nmuch", "Informally and unofficially, but still\npresent in the flesh. A sort of casual dropping in, carefully heralded\nby unconfirmed rumour a week ahead.\"\n\n\"Heavens!\" exclaimed Cicely, in genuine excitement, \"what a bold stroke.\nLady Shalem has worked that, I bet. I suppose it will go down all\nright.\"\n\n\"Trust Laurent to see to that,\" said Tony, \"he knows how to fill his\nhouse with the right sort of people, and he's not the one to risk a", "room and a lively black kitten helped\nhim to dress, and incidentally helped him to require a new tassel to the\ncord of his dressing-gown. As he finished his toilet and the kitten\nfinished its sixth and most notable attack on the tassel a ring was heard\nat the front door, and a moment later a loud, hearty, and unmistakably\nhungry voice resounded in the hall. It belonged to the local doctor, who\nhad also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the\nev", " \"Now you'll cool off about that supper\nparty, and turn down Gorla and the rest of us.\"\n\nIt was certainly true that the supper already seemed a more difficult\nproposition in Cicely's eyes than it had a moment or two ago.\n\n \"'You'll not forget my only daughter,\n E'en though Saphia has crossed the sea,'\"\n\nquoted Tony, with mocking laughter in his voice and eyes.\n\nCicely went down to greet her husband. She felt that she was probably\nvery glad that he", "to ensure against a change of plans\non Cicely's part.\n\n\"Gorla is a great friend of mine,\" said Cicely, trying to talk as if the\nconversation had taken a perfectly indifferent turn; \"also I think she\ndeserves a little encouragement after the hard work she has been through.\nI thought it would be doing her a kindness to arrange a supper party for\nher on her first night.\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence. Yeovil said nothing, and Joan understood\nthe value of being occasionally tongue-tied.\n", "be polite and considerate in their dealings with\nher, that people who usually held themselves aloof should have to be\ngracious and amiable, that the self-assured should have to be just a\nlittle humble and anxious where she was concerned, these things of course\nshe intended to happen; she was a woman. But, she told herself, she\nintended a great deal more than that when she traced the pattern for her\nscheme of social influence. In her heart she detested the German\noccupation as a hateful necessity, but while her heart registered the\n", "one of the\nsuccesses of the evening was Leutnant von Gabelroth, as George\nWashington, with Joan Mardle as his shadow, typifying Inconvenient\nCandour. He put her down officially as Truthfulness, but every one had\nheard the other version.\"\n\n\"Good for the Gabelroth, though he does belong to the invading Horde;\nit's not often that any one scores off Joan.\"\n\n\"Another blaze of magnificence was the loud-voiced Bessimer woman, as the\nGoddess Jun", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "be useful,\" said Cicely, \"it would be almost historical;\nthere's no knowing who might not come to it--and things are dreadfully\nslack in the entertaining line just now.\"\n\nThe ambitious note in her character was making itself felt at that\nmoment.\n\n\"Let's go down to the library, and work out a list of people to invite,\"\nsaid Ronnie.\n\nA servant entered the room and made a brief announcement.\n\n\"Mr. Yeovil has arrived, madam.\"\n\n\"Bother,\" said Ronnie sulkily.", "\n\"Thank you, I have lunched already,\" he said in answer to a question from\nCicely. \"Thank you,\" he said again in a cheerful affirmative, as the\nquestion of hock in a tall ice-cold goblet was propounded to him.\n\n\"I've come to tell you the latest about the Gorla Mustelford evening,\" he\ncontinued. \"Old Laurent is putting his back into it, and it's really\ngoing to be rather a big affair. She's going to out-Russian the\nRuss", "there any detailed account of my\ncostume in the Dawn?\"\n\nHis companion laughed cynically.\n\n\"As if you hadn't read everything that the Dawn and the other morning\npapers have to say about the ball hours ago.\"\n\n\"The naked truth should be avoided in a Turkish bath,\" said Cornelian;\n\"kindly assume that I've only had time to glance at the weather forecast\nand the news from China.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well,\" said the other; \"your costume isn't described; you\nsimply come amid a host of others", "er than nine miles.\nNine miles of dark and hilly country road for a tired man on a tired\nhorse assumed enormous, far-stretching proportions, and although he dimly\nremembered that he had asked a guest to dinner for that evening he began\nto wonder whether the wayside inn possessed anything endurable in the way\nof a bedroom. The landlord interrupted his desperate speculations with a\nreally brilliant effort of suggestion. There was a gentleman in the bar,\nhe said, who was going in a motorcar in the direction for which Yeovil\nwas bound" ], [ "one who\nstarts on a voyage of discovery in a land that is well known to him. He\nturned into the Park at Hyde Park corner and made his way along the\nfamiliar paths and alleys that bordered the Row. The familiarity\nvanished when he left the region of fenced-in lawns and rhododendron\nbushes and came to the open space that stretched away beyond the\nbandstand. The bandstand was still there, and a military band, in sky-\nblue Saxon uniform, was executing the first item in the forenoon\n", "must be,\" said Yeovil, fingering his three shilling State document;\n\"by the way,\" he asked, \"are all the grass plots in the Park out of\nbounds for human feet?\"\n\n\"Everywhere where you see the notices,\" said the policeman, \"and that's\nabout three-fourths of the whole grass space; there's been a lot of new\ngravel walks opened up in all directions. People don't want to walk on\nthe grass when they've got clean paths to walk on.\"\n\nAnd with this parting re", ".\n\nThe Row and its riders had become suddenly detestable to the wanderer; he\nwould not run the risk of seeing that insolently joyous cavalcade come\ngalloping past again. Beyond a narrow stretch of tree-shaded grass lay\nthe placid sunlit water of the Serpentine, and Yeovil made a short cut\nacross the turf to reach its gravelled bank.\n\n\"Can't you read either English or German?\" asked a policeman who\nconfronted him as he stepped off the turf.\n\nY", "gravelled paths of the Green Park, small\nragged children from the back streets of Westminster looked wistfully at\nthe smooth trim stretches of grass on which it was now forbidden, in two\nlanguages, to set foot. Only the pigeons, disregarding the changes of\npolitical geography, walked about as usual, wondering perhaps, if they\never wondered at anything, at the sudden change in the distribution of\npark humans.\n\nYeovil turned his steps out of the hot sunlight into the shade of the\nBurlington Arcade, familiarly", "eovil stared at the man and then turned to look at the small\nneatly-printed notice to which the official was imperiously pointing; in\ntwo languages it was made known that it was forbidden and verboten,\npunishable and straffbar, to walk on the grass.\n\n\"Three shilling fine,\" said the policeman, extending his hand for the\nmoney.\n\n\"Do I pay you?\" asked Yeovil, feeling almost inclined to laugh; \"I'm\nrather a stranger to the new order of things.\"\n\n\"You pay", "get through,\" said Sir Leonard Pitherby in an\nequally high-pitched voice; \"and of course,\" he added vaguely, \"it takes\nsome time to get the various units together. One must give them a few\nminutes' grace.\"\n\nLady Bailquist said nothing, but her restless watchful eyes were turned\nfirst to Hyde Park Corner and then in the direction of the Marble Arch,\nback again to Hyde Park Corner. Only the dark lines of the waiting crowd\nmet her view, with the yellow newspaper placards flitting", "\nOn a warm and sunny May afternoon, some ten months since Yeovil's return\nfrom his Siberian wanderings and sickness, Cicely sat at a small table in\nthe open-air restaurant in Hyde Park, finishing her after-luncheon coffee\nand listening to the meritorious performance of the orchestra. Opposite\nher sat Larry Meadowfield, absorbed for the moment in the slow enjoyment\nof a cigarette, which also was not without its short-lived merits. Larry\nwas a well-dressed youngster,", "hurried up from side-walks and stood craning their\nnecks above the shoulders of earlier arrivals.\n\nThrough the archway at Hyde Park Corner came a resplendent cavalcade,\nwith a swirl of colour and rhythmic movement and a crash of exultant\nmusic; life-guards with gleaming helmets, a detachment of Wurtemberg\nlancers with a flutter of black and yellow pennons, a rich medley of\nstaff uniforms, a prancing array of princely horsemen, the Imperial\nStandard, and", "spaces had been cleared in the neighbouring turf, evidently for the\nreception of further statue groups, which Yeovil mentally assigned to\nStruwelpeter and Little Lord Fauntleroy.\n\n\"German middle-class taste,\" he commented, \"but in this matter we\ncertainly gave them a lead. I suppose the idea is that childish fancy is\ndead and that it is only decent to erect some sort of memorial to it.\"\n\nThe day was growing hotter, and the Park had ceased to seem a desirable\nplace to loiter in", "heel and made his way back to\nthe shady walk that ran alongside the Row. At first sight little was\nchanged in the aspect of the well-known exercising ground. One or two\nriding masters cantered up and down as of yore, with their attendant\nbroods of anxious-faced young girls and awkwardly bumping women pupils,\nwhile horsey-looking men put marketable animals through their paces or\ndrew up to the rails for long conversations with horsey-looking friends\non foot. Sportingly attired young women, sitting astride", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "grown\nbank, and flung himself into the sheltering labyrinth of a stretching\ntangle of woods. The pack of fierce-mouthed things that had rattled him\nfrom copse and gorse-cover, along fallow and plough, hedgerow and wooded\nlane, for nigh on an hour, and had pressed hard on his life for the last\nfew minutes, receded suddenly into the background of his experiences. The\ncold, wet meadow, the thick mask of woods, and the oncoming dusk had\nstayed", "in and out,\nannouncing to an indifferent public the fate of Essex wickets. As far as\nher searching eyes could travel the green stretch of tree and sward\nremained unbroken, save by casual loiterers. No small brown columns\nappeared, no drum beat came throbbing up from the distance. The little\nflags pegged out to mark the positions of the awaited scout-corps\nfluttered in meaningless isolation on the empty parade ground.\n\nHis Majesty was talking unconcernedly with one of his officers, the\n", "\nhouse were scrupulously banished from the breakfast-room; bowls of wild\nthyme and other flowering weeds of the meadow and hedgerow gave it an\natmosphere of country freshness that was in keeping with the morning\nmeal.\n\n\"You look dreadfully tired still,\" said Cicely critically, \"otherwise I\nwould recommend a ride in the Park, before it gets too hot. There is a\nnew cob in the stable that you will just love, but he is rather lively,\nand you had better content yourself for the present with", "ained importance, \"there goes the delectable\nPitherby. Does he come on your books at all?\"\n\n\"I should say!\" exclaimed Herlton fervently. \"The delectable P.\nnourishes expectations of a barony or viscounty at an early date. Most\nof his life has been spent in streets and squares, with occasional\nmigrations to the esplanades of fashionable watering-places or the\ngravelled walks of country house gardens. Now that noblesse is about to\nimpose its obligations on him,", "\nold case of giving hostages.\"\n\nHe followed the path alongside the Serpentine, passing under the archway\nof the bridge and continuing his walk into Kensington Gardens. In\nanother moment he was within view of the Peter Pan statue and at once\nobserved that it had companions. On one side was a group representing a\nscene from one of the Grimm fairy stories, on the other was Alice in\nconversation with Gryphon and Mockturtle, the episode looking\ndistressingly stiff and meaningless in its sculptured form. Two other\n", "there, a wan, shrunken shadow,\nyet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those\nparrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing-\nrooms and theatre foyers.\n\nAs the carriage swung round a bend in the drive Yeovil looked back at\nTorywood, a lone, grey building, couched like a watchdog with pricked\nears and wakeful eyes in the midst of the sleeping landscape. An old\npleading voice was still ringing in his ears:\n\n Imperious and yet for", "\nThe journey seemed suddenly to have recommenced; he was under his own\nroof, his servants were waiting on him, his familiar possessions were in\nevidence around him, but the sense of being at home had vanished. It was\nas though he had arrived at some wayside hotel, and been asked to\nregister his name and status and destination. Other things of disgust\nand irritation he had foreseen in the London he was coming to--the\nalterations on stamps and coinage, the intrusive Teuton element, the\nalien uniforms cropping up everywhere, the", "he possessed there lurked a rankling bitterness against the hard\nthings of life, or a scrap of gratitude towards the one or two friends\nwho had helped him disinterestedly, but his most intimate associates\ncould not have guessed at the existence of such feelings. Tony Luton was\njust a merry-eyed dancing faun, whom Fate had surrounded with streets\ninstead of woods, and it would have been in the highest degree inartistic\nto have sounded him for a heart or a heartache.\n\nThe dancing of the faun took one day a livel", "alien eyes and\njangling tongues, that he wanted to read the news of the Imperial\nAufklarung.\n\nBy a succession of by-ways he reached Hanover Square, and thence made his\nway into Oxford Street. There was no commotion of activity to be noticed\nyet among the newsboys; the posters still concerned themselves with the\nearthquake in Hungary, varied with references to the health of the King\nof Roumania, and a motor accident in South London. Yeovil wandered\naimlessly along the street for a few dozen" ], [ "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", ". I bought a\nnewspaper as soon as I landed, and I read it in the train coming up. I\nread things that puzzled and disgusted me. There were announcements of\nconcerts and plays and first-nights and private views; there were even\nsmall dances. There were advertisements of house-boats and week-end\ncottages and string bands for garden parties. It struck me that it was\nrather like merrymaking with a dead body lying in the house.\"\n\n\"Yeovil,\" said the doctor, \"you", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "jealousy and uneasiness in\nothers, and now the seas rule her. Every wave that breaks on her shore\nrattles the keys of her prison. I am no fire-eater, Herr Rebinok, but I\nconfess that when I am at Dover, say, or Southampton, and see those dark\nblots on the sea and those grey specks in the sky, our battleships and\ncruisers and aircraft, and realise what they mean to us my heart beats\njust a little quicker. If every German was flung out of England", "ing round our coasts would be sufficient to shut out our\nfood supplies.\"\n\n\"Are you trying to tell me that this is a final overthrow?\" said Yeovil\nin a shaking voice; \"are we to remain a subject race like the Poles?\"\n\n\"Let us hope for a better fate,\" said the doctor. \"Our opportunity may\ncome if the Master Power is ever involved in an unsuccessful naval war\nwith some other nation, or perhaps in some time of European crisis, when\neverything hung in the balance, our latent hostility might have to be\nsquared", "alien eyes and\njangling tongues, that he wanted to read the news of the Imperial\nAufklarung.\n\nBy a succession of by-ways he reached Hanover Square, and thence made his\nway into Oxford Street. There was no commotion of activity to be noticed\nyet among the newsboys; the posters still concerned themselves with the\nearthquake in Hungary, varied with references to the health of the King\nof Roumania, and a motor accident in South London. Yeovil wandered\naimlessly along the street for a few dozen", "er than the train, following winding roads\nand twisting valleys into unseen distances, picturing farms and hamlets,\nhills and hollows, clattering inn yards and sleepy woodlands.\n\n\"A beautiful country,\" said his only fellow-traveller, who was also\ngazing at the fleeting landscape; \"surely a country worth fighting for.\"\n\nHe spoke in fairly correct English, but he was unmistakably a foreigner;\none could have allotted him with some certainty to the Eastern half of\nEurope.\n\n\"A beautiful country", "ham, there was nothing for it but to\nhope that this was a false, groundless rumour, that had somehow crept to\nthe confines of civilisation. In my saner balanced moments it was\npossible to disbelieve it, but if you have ever suffered from delirium\nyou will know what raging torments of agony I went through in the nights,\nhow my brain fought and refought that rumoured disaster.\"\n\nThe doctor gave a murmur of sympathetic understanding.\n\n\"Then,\" continued Yeovil, \"I reached the small Siberian town", "colonial centre or even in a country town in\nEngland. India I couldn't stand. London is not merely a home to me, it\nis a world, and it happens to be just the world that suits me and that I\nam suited to. The German occupation, or whatever one likes to call it,\nis a calamity, but it's not like a molten deluge from Vesuvius that need\nsend us all scuttling away from another Pompeii. Of course,\" she added,\n\"there are things that jar horribly on one, even", "English name of the street. A\nnotice directing the public to the neighbouring swimming baths was also\nwritten up in both languages. London had become a bi-lingual city, even\nas Warsaw.\n\nThe cab threaded its way swiftly along Buckingham Palace Road towards the\nMall. As they passed the long front of the Palace the traveller turned\nhis head resolutely away, that he might not see the alien uniforms at the\ngates and the eagle standard flapping in the sunlight. The taxi driver,\nwho seemed to have combative instincts", ", to go on for ever?\"\n\n\"It is not a nightmare, unfortunately,\" said the doctor, \"it is a\nreality.\"\n\n\"But, surely--a nation such as ours, a virile, highly-civilised nation\nwith an age-long tradition of mastery behind it, cannot be held under for\never by a few thousand bayonets and machine guns. We must surely rise up\none day and drive them out.\"\n\n\"Dear man,\" said the doctor, \"we might, of course, at some given moment\noverpower the garrison that", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the", "inspection, picking up the stray remaining\nmorsels of the evening meal, and then, with much scrambling and\nsquawking, sought the places on the roosting-pole that they thought\nshould belong to them. Labourers working in yard and field began to turn\ntheir thoughts homeward or tavernward as the case might be. And through\nthe cold squelching slush of a water-logged meadow a weary, bedraggled,\nbut unbeaten fox stiffly picked his way, climbed a high bramble-", "able\nit is.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Yeovil, \"and I suppose, as a matter of fact, a good\nmany of your clients belong to the conquering race.\"\n\n\"Well, you see, they are the people who have got the money,\" said\nHerlton; \"I don't mean to say that the invading Germans are usually\npeople of wealth, but while they live over here they escape the crushing\ntaxation that falls on the British-born subject. They serve their\ncountry as soldiers, and we have to serve it in garrison money,", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "of of his voice, like a hen calling to a brood of roving chickens.\n\n\"They grew soft,\" he resumed; \"great world-commerce brings great luxury,\nand luxury brings softness. They had everything to warn them, things\nhappening in their own time and before their eyes, and they would not be\nwarned. They had seen, in one generation, the rise of the military and\nnaval power of the Japanese, a brown-skinned race living in some island\nrice fields in a tropical sea, a people one thought of in connection with\n", "\nold case of giving hostages.\"\n\nHe followed the path alongside the Serpentine, passing under the archway\nof the bridge and continuing his walk into Kensington Gardens. In\nanother moment he was within view of the Peter Pan statue and at once\nobserved that it had companions. On one side was a group representing a\nscene from one of the Grimm fairy stories, on the other was Alice in\nconversation with Gryphon and Mockturtle, the episode looking\ndistressingly stiff and meaningless in its sculptured form. Two other\n", "that was never touched on. Of half\nthe families mentioned it was necessary to add the qualifying information\nthat they \"used to live\" at such and such a place; the countryside knew\nthem no longer. Their properties were for sale or had already passed\ninto the hands of strangers. But neither man cared to allude to the\ngrinning shadow that sat at the feast and sent an icy chill now and again\nthrough the cheeriest jest and most jovial story. The brisk run with the\nhounds that day had stirred and warmed their pulses;", "paper fans and flowers and pretty tea-gardens, who suddenly marched and\nsailed into the world's gaze as a Great Power; they had seen, too, the\nrise of the Bulgars, a poor herd of zaptieh-ridden peasants, with a few\nstudents scattered in exile in Bukarest and Odessa, who shot up in one\ngeneration to be an armed and aggressive nation with history in its\nhands. The English saw these things happening around them, and with a\nwar-cloud growing blacker and bigger and always more threatening" ], [ "to\nlook up for a moment in mild astonishment. In a few seconds he was back\nagain, with a copy of an afternoon paper. The Imperial Rescript was set\nforth in heavy type, in parallel columns of English and German. As the\nyoung man read a deep burning flush spread over his face, then ebbed away\ninto a chalky whiteness. He read the announcement to the end, then\nhanded the paper to Yeovil, and left without a word.\n\nBeneath the courtly politeness and benignant phraseology of the document", "a slip of\npaper, put it silently by the side of the teapot, and drifted silently\naway. Yeovil had seen the same sort of thing done on the musical-comedy\nstage, and done rather differently.\n\n\"Can you tell me, sir, is the Imperial announcement out yet?\" asked the\nyoung clergyman, after a brief scrutiny of his neighbour.\n\n\"No, I have been waiting about for the last half-hour on the look-out for\nit,\" said Yeovil; \"the special editions ought to be out by now.\"", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "house focussed itself on one figure. There was no public\ndemonstration from the newly-loyal, it had been particularly wished that\nthere should be none, but a ripple of whisper went through the vast\naudience from end to end. Majesty had arrived. The Japanese\nmarvel-workers went through their display with even less attention than\nbefore. Lady Shalem, sitting well in the front of her box, lowered her\nobservant eyes to her programme and her massive bangles. The evidence of\nher triumph did not need staring at.\n", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "the\nnew war taxation that the people are finding so burdensome.\"\n\n\"One certainly cannot say that they have not had attractions held out to\nthem,\" said Sir Leonard.\n\n\"It is a special effort,\" said Lady Bailquist; \"it is worth making an\neffort for. They are going to be the Janissaries of the Empire; the\nyounger generation knocking at the doors of progress, and thrusting back\nthe bars and bolts of old racial prejudices. I tell you, Sir Leonard, it\nwill be an historic moment", "turned once more to an item of news in the\nmorning's papers that had already arrested his attention. The Imperial\nAufklarung on the subject of military service was to be made public in\nthe course of the day.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI: THE TEA SHOP\n\n\nYeovil wandered down Piccadilly that afternoon in a spirit of\nrestlessness and expectancy. The long-awaited Aufklarung dealing with\nthe new law of military service had not yet appeared; at any moment he\nmight meet the hoarse-", "glers performed some\nartistic and quite uninteresting marvels with fans and butterflies and\nlacquer boxes. The interval of waiting was not destined, however, to be\nwithout its interest; in its way it provided the one really important and\ndramatic moment of the evening. One or two uniforms and evening\ntoilettes had already made their appearance in the Imperial box; now\nthere was observable in that quarter a slight commotion, an unobtrusive\nreshuffling and reseating, and then every eye in the suddenly quiet semi-\ndarkened", "alien eyes and\njangling tongues, that he wanted to read the news of the Imperial\nAufklarung.\n\nBy a succession of by-ways he reached Hanover Square, and thence made his\nway into Oxford Street. There was no commotion of activity to be noticed\nyet among the newsboys; the posters still concerned themselves with the\nearthquake in Hungary, varied with references to the health of the King\nof Roumania, and a motor accident in South London. Yeovil wandered\naimlessly along the street for a few dozen", "for any training or exercise of a military nature\nexisted, therefore all rifle clubs, drill associations, cadet corps and\nsimilar bodies were henceforth declared to be illegal. No weapons other\nthan guns for specified sporting purposes, duly declared and registered\nand open to inspection when required, could be owned, purchased, or\ncarried. The science of arms was to be eliminated altogether from the\nlife of a people who had shown such marked repugnance to its study and\npractice.\n\nThe cold irony of the measure struck home with the greater force because\n", "and one or\ntwo addresses were taken. Under the trees, well at the back of the\ncrowd, a young man stood watching the long stretch of road along which\nthe Scouts should come. Something had drawn him there, against his will,\nto witness the Imperial Triumph, to watch the writing of yet another\nchapter in the history of his country's submission to an accepted fact.\nAnd now a dull flush crept into his grey face; a look that was partly new-\nborn hope and resurrected pride, partly remorse and shame, burned in his\neyes", "uting base--over there, where the big flag-staff has been set up. The\nboys will come in by Hyde Park Corner, the Marble Arch, and the Albert\nGate, according to their districts, and form in one big column over\nthere, where the little flags are pegged out. Then the young Prince will\ninspect them and lead them past His Majesty.\"\n\n\"Who will be with the Imperial party?\" asked Sir Leonard.\n\n\"Oh, it is to be an important affair; everything will be done to\nemphasise the significance of the occasion,\"", "hurried up from side-walks and stood craning their\nnecks above the shoulders of earlier arrivals.\n\nThrough the archway at Hyde Park Corner came a resplendent cavalcade,\nwith a swirl of colour and rhythmic movement and a crash of exultant\nmusic; life-guards with gleaming helmets, a detachment of Wurtemberg\nlancers with a flutter of black and yellow pennons, a rich medley of\nstaff uniforms, a prancing array of princely horsemen, the Imperial\nStandard, and", "throated newsboys running along with their papers,\nannouncing the special edition which would give the terms of the edict to\nthe public. Every sound or movement that detached itself with isolated\nsignificance from the general whirr and scurry of the streets seemed to\nYeovil to herald the oncoming clamour and rush that he was looking for.\nBut the long endless succession of motors and 'buses and vans went by,\nhooting and grunting, and such newsboys as were to be seen hung about\nlistlessly, bearing", "I had temperament to the finger-\ntips, and I was too polite to contradict him. But I haven't told you the\nreally important thing about the Mustelford debut. It is a profound\nsecret, more or less, so you must promise not to breathe a word about it\ntill half-past four, when it will appear in all the six o'clock\nnewspapers.\"\n\nTony paused for dramatic effect, while he drained his goblet, and then\nmade his announcement.\n\n\"Majesty is going to be present. ", "the incense-clouds of a fat\ncigar; \"a danger that I foresee in the immediate future; perhaps not so\nmuch a danger as an element of exasperation which may ultimately defeat\nyour plans. The law as to military service will have to be promulgated\nshortly, and that cannot fail to be bitterly unpopular. The people of\nthese islands will have to be brought into line with the rest of the\nEmpire in the matter of military training and military service, and how\nwill they like that? Will not the enforcing", "services which were rendered by his subjects German-born. The British\nsubjects of the Crown were to remain a people consecrated to peaceful\npursuits, to commerce and trade and husbandry. The defence of their\ncoasts and shipping and the maintenance of order and general safety would\nbe guaranteed by a garrison of German troops, with the co-operation of\nthe Imperial war fleet. German-born subjects residing temporarily or\npermanently in the British Isles would come under the same laws\nrespecting compulsory military service as their fellow-subjects of German\nblo", "in and out,\nannouncing to an indifferent public the fate of Essex wickets. As far as\nher searching eyes could travel the green stretch of tree and sward\nremained unbroken, save by casual loiterers. No small brown columns\nappeared, no drum beat came throbbing up from the distance. The little\nflags pegged out to mark the positions of the awaited scout-corps\nfluttered in meaningless isolation on the empty parade ground.\n\nHis Majesty was talking unconcernedly with one of his officers, the\n", "of of his voice, like a hen calling to a brood of roving chickens.\n\n\"They grew soft,\" he resumed; \"great world-commerce brings great luxury,\nand luxury brings softness. They had everything to warn them, things\nhappening in their own time and before their eyes, and they would not be\nwarned. They had seen, in one generation, the rise of the military and\nnaval power of the Japanese, a brown-skinned race living in some island\nrice fields in a tropical sea, a people one thought of in connection with\n", ". I bought a\nnewspaper as soon as I landed, and I read it in the train coming up. I\nread things that puzzled and disgusted me. There were announcements of\nconcerts and plays and first-nights and private views; there were even\nsmall dances. There were advertisements of house-boats and week-end\ncottages and string bands for garden parties. It struck me that it was\nrather like merrymaking with a dead body lying in the house.\"\n\n\"Yeovil,\" said the doctor, \"you" ], [ "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "least as far as the title goes; she was born\nunder the constellation of the Star-spangled Banner. I don't suppose the\nDuke approves of her being here, lending her countenance to the fait\naccompli, but when you've got republican blood in your veins a Kaiser is\nquite as attractive a lodestar as a King, rather more so. And Canon\nMousepace is coming,\" continued Cicely, referring to a closely-written\nlist of guests; \"the excellent von Tolb has been attending his church", "notes of personages to whom he\nmight send presentation copies of his new work \"Frederick-William, the\nGreat Elector, a Popular Biography,\" as a souvenir of to-day's auspicious\nevent.\n\n\"It is nearly a quarter to three now,\" he said; \"let us get a good\nposition before the crowd gets thicker.\"\n\n\"Come along to my car, it is just opposite to the saluting base,\" said\nher ladyship; \"I have a police pass that will let us through. We'll ask\nM", "ing German patronage. The stream of British emigration will\nswell rather than diminish, and the stream of Teuton immigration will be\nequally persistent and progressive. Yes, the military-service ordinance\nwas a cunning stroke on the part of that old fox, von Kwarl. As a\ncivilian statesman he is far and away cleverer than Bismarck was; he\nsmothers with a feather-bed where Bismarck would have tried to smash with\na sledge-hammer.\"\n\n\"Have you got me down", ", slowed down as he was turning\ninto the Mall, and pointed to the white pile of memorial statuary in\nfront of the palace gates.\n\n\"Grossmutter Denkmal, yes,\" he announced, and resumed his journey.\n\nArrived at his destination, Yeovil stood on the steps of his house and\npressed the bell with an odd sense of forlornness, as though he were a\nstranger drifting from nowhere into a land that had no cognisance of him;\na moment later he was standing in his own hall, the object of respectful\ns", "ohenzollerns. Then we should be doubly strong, Rome and Carthage rolled\ninto one, an Empire of the West greater than Charlemagne ever knew. Then\nwe could look Slav and Latin and Asiatic in the face and keep our place\nas the central dominant force of the civilised world.\"\n\nThe speaker paused for a moment and drank a deep draught of wine, as\nthough he were invoking the prosperity of that future world-power. Then\nhe resumed in a more level tone:\n\n\"On the other hand, the", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", " \"Neither, it's Austrian, the Austrian military\nattache\" . . . \"That is von Stoppel talking to His Majesty; he organised\nthe Boy Scouts in Germany, you know.\" . . . \"His Majesty is looking very\npleased.\" \"He has reason to look pleased; this is a great event in the\nhistory of the two countries. It marks a new epoch.\" . . . \"Oh, do you\nsee the Abyssinian Envoy? What a picturesque figure he makes. How well\nhe sits", "il.\n\n\"Only about nineteen, so far, and none of them representing very leading\nfamilies; of course others will come in gradually, as the change of\nDynasty becomes more and more an accepted fact, and of course there will\nbe lots of new creations to fill up the gaps. I hear for certain that\nPitherby is to get a title of some sort, in recognition of his literary\nlabours. He has written a short history of the House of Hohenzollern,\nfor use in schools you know, and he's bringing out a popular", "Shalem to Herr von Kwarl, whom she was conveying in her electric brougham\nto Cicely Yeovil's supper party; \"an important evening,\" she added,\nchoosing her adjectives with deliberation. \"It should give pleasure in\nhigh quarters, should it not?\"\n\nAnd she turned her observant eyes on the impassive face of her companion.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" he replied with deliberation and meaning, \"it has given\npleasure. It is an evening to be remembered.\"\n\nThe gracious lady suppressed", "ar,' German\nEmperor, had been the name that the man had been trying to convey to me.\nI shouted for the tracker, and put him through a breathless\ncross-examination; he confirmed what my fears had told me. The 'Metskie\nTsar' was a big European ruler, he had been in conflict with the\n'Angliskie Tsar,' and the latter had been defeated, swept away; the man\nspoke the word that he used for ships, and made energetic pantomime to\nexpress the sinking of a fleet. Hol", "to\nlook up for a moment in mild astonishment. In a few seconds he was back\nagain, with a copy of an afternoon paper. The Imperial Rescript was set\nforth in heavy type, in parallel columns of English and German. As the\nyoung man read a deep burning flush spread over his face, then ebbed away\ninto a chalky whiteness. He read the announcement to the end, then\nhanded the paper to Yeovil, and left without a word.\n\nBeneath the courtly politeness and benignant phraseology of the document", "said Ronnie, \"they have chaste cold tastes. You are\nabsolutely mistaken.\"\n\n\"Well, I think I ought to know!\" protested the dowager; \"I've lived\nlonger in the world than you have, anyway.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ronnie with devastating truthfulness, \"but my hair has been\nthis colour longer than yours has.\"\n\nPeace was restored by the opportune arrival of a middle-aged man of blond\nNorth-German type, with an expression of brutality on his rather stupid\nface, who sat in the", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "of an incautious move, and, after several woebegone\ncontortions of his shoulders and hands, declined further contest. A\nsleek-headed piccolo rushed forward to remove the board, and the\nerstwhile combatants resumed the courteous dignity that they discarded in\ntheir chess-playing moments.\n\n\"Have you seen the Germania to-day?\" asked Herr Rebinok, as soon as the\nboy had receded to a respectful distance.\n\n\"No,\" said von Kwarl, \"I never see the Germania", "a holiday and was asked down to country\nhouses and shown the tennis court and the rock-garden and the younger\nchildren. Listen. I once heard it solemnly stated at an after-dinner\ndebate in some literary club that a certain very prominent German\nstatesman had a daughter at school in England, and that future friendly\nrelations between the two countries were improved in prospect, if not\nassured, by that circumstance. You think I am laughing; I am recording a\nfact, and the men present were politicians and statesmen as well as\nliterary", ", as you say,\" replied Yeovil; then he added the\nquestion, \"Are you German?\"\n\n\"No, Hungarian,\" said the other; \"and you, you are English?\" he asked.\n\n\"I have been much in England, but I am from Russia,\" said Yeovil,\npurposely misleading his companion on the subject of his nationality in\norder to induce him to talk with greater freedom on a delicate topic.\nWhile living among foreigners in a foreign land he had shrunk from\nhearing his country's disaster discussed, or even alluded to", "Several of his friends and acquaintances shared with\nhim the distinction of having achieved the Black Eagle, but not one of\nthem had ever succeeded in obtaining the slightest recognition of their\nexistence from Wotan.\n\nThe daily greeting had been exchanged and the proud grey beast had\nmarched away to the music of a slumberous purr. The Kreuz Zeitung and\nthe Times underwent a final scrutiny and were pushed aside, and von Kwarl\nglanced aimlessly out at the July sunshine bathing the walls and windows\nof the Picc", "instantly place the chessboard with its marshalled ranks of combatants in\nthe required position, and the contest would begin.\n\nHerr von Kwarl was a heavily built man of mature middle-age, of the blond\nNorth-German type, with a facial aspect that suggested stupidity and\nbrutality. The stupidity of his mien masked an ability and shrewdness\nthat was distinctly above the average, and the suggestion of brutality\nwas belied by the fact that von Kwarl was as kind-hearted a man as one\ncould", "at Schlachsenberg, though the 'Sozi' keep telling our schoolchildren\nthat it is only a Christ myth. Never mind, I will have the\nVice-President of our Landtag to listen to you; he is 'Sozi' but we are\ngood friends outside the Parliament House; you shall blay to him, my\nyoung friendt, and gonfince him that there is a Got in Heaven. You will\ngom? Yes?\"\n\n\"It was beautiful,\" said the Grafin simply; \"it made me cry. Go back to" ], [ " GUTENBERG EBOOK WHEN WILLIAM CAME***\n\n\n\n\nTranscribed from the 1914 John Lane edition by David Price,\nccx074@coventry.ac.uk\n\n\n\n\n\nWHEN WILLIAM CAME\n\n\nCHAPTER I: THE SINGING-BIRD AND THE BAROMETER\n\n\nCicely Yeovil sat in a low swing chair, alternately looking at herself in\na mirror and at the other occupant of the room in the flesh. ", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "in these wilds,\" said Mrs. Kerrick;\n\"he was assistant master at a private school in Scotland, but it had to\nbe given up when--when things changed; so many of the boys left the\ncountry. He came out to an uncle who has a small estate eight miles from\nhere, and three days in the week he rides over to teach my boys, and\nthree days he goes to another family living in the opposite direction. To-\nday he is due to come here. It is a great boon to have such an\nopportunity for getting the boys", "is he?\"\n\n\"In one of the hussar regiments quartered here; a friend of the Grafin's.\nUgly but amiable, and I'm told a good cross-country rider. I suppose\nMurrey will be disgusted at meeting the 'outward and visible sign' under\nhis roof, but these encounters are inevitable as long as he is in\nLondon.\"\n\n\"I didn't know Murrey was coming,\" said Ronnie.\n\n\"I believe he's going to look in on us,\" said Cicely; \"it", "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw", "\nof low growing beeches and dark pines. Torywood was not a stately,\nreposeful-looking house; it lay amid the sleepy landscape like a couched\nwatchdog with pricked ears and wakeful eyes. Built somewhere about the\nlast years of Dutch William's reign, it had been a centre, ever since,\nfor the political life of the countryside; a storm centre of discontent\nor a rallying ground for the well affected, as the circumstances of the\nday might entail. On the stone-flagged terrace in front of the house", "et. He had doubtless seen him at the meet that morning, but in his\nhunting kit he had escaped his observation.\n\n\"I, too, have been out with the hounds,\" the young man continued; \"I have\nleft my horse at the Crow and Sceptre at Dolford. You are living at\nBlack Dene, are you not? I can take you right past your door, it is all\non my way.\"\n\nYeovil hung back for a moment, overwhelmed with vexation and\nembarrassment, but it was too late to", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "don't know,\" confessed Yeovil; \"you see glory hasn't come very much my\nway lately.\" Then, before he exactly realised what he was doing, he\nraised his voice and quoted loudly for the benefit of half the room:\n\n \"'Other Romans shall arise,\n Heedless of a soldier's name,\n Sounds, not deeds, shall win the prize,\n Harmony the path to fame.'\"\n\nThere was a sort of shiver of surprised silence at Yeovil's end of the\nroom.\n\n\"Hell!\"\n", "ly out of his saddle, and in answer\nto the loud rattle of his hunting crop on the open door the innkeeper and\ntwo or three hangers-on hurried out to attend to the wants of man and\nbeast. Flour and water for the horse and something hot for himself were\nYeovil's first concern, and then he began to clamour for geographical\ninformation. He was rather dismayed to find that the cumulative opinions\nof those whom he consulted, and of several others who joined unbidden in\nthe discussion, placed his destination at nothing near", "who was, in Cicely's opinion, distinctly\ngood to look on--an opinion which the boy himself obviously shared. He\nhad the healthy, well-cared-for appearance of a country-dweller who has\nbeen turned into a town dandy without suffering in the process. His blue-\nblack hair, growing very low down on a broad forehead, was brushed back\nin a smoothness that gave his head the appearance of a rain-polished\nsloe; his eyebrows were two dark smudges and his large violet-grey eyes\nexpressed the rest", "there, a wan, shrunken shadow,\nyet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those\nparrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing-\nrooms and theatre foyers.\n\nAs the carriage swung round a bend in the drive Yeovil looked back at\nTorywood, a lone, grey building, couched like a watchdog with pricked\nears and wakeful eyes in the midst of the sleeping landscape. An old\npleading voice was still ringing in his ears:\n\n Imperious and yet for", "good will and\ngood nature which disarmed strangers and recent acquaintances; on getting\nto know her better they hastily re-armed themselves. Some one had once\naptly described her as a hedgehog with the protective mimicry of a\npuffball. If there was an awkward remark to be made at an inconvenient\nmoment before undesired listeners, Joan invariably made it, and when the\noccasion did not present itself she was usually capable of creating it.\nShe was not without a certain popularity, the sort of popularity that a\ndashing highwayman", "and starvation. It was just that\nnameless something that was lacking in the young musician, who stood at\nthe further end of the room, bathed in a flood of compliment and\ncongratulation, enjoying the honey-drops of his triumph.\n\nLuton pushed his way through the crowd and left the room, without\ntroubling to take leave of his hostess.\n\n\"What a strange young man,\" exclaimed the Duchess; \"now do take me into\nthe next room,\" she went on almost in the same breath, \"I'm just dying", "'t you brought young Mr.\nMeadowfield? Such a nice boy. I wanted him to come and sit in my\ncarriage and talk to me.\"\n\n\"He doesn't talk you know,\" said Cicely; \"he's only brilliant to look\nat.\"\n\n\"Well, I could have looked at him,\" said the Grafin.\n\n\"There'll be thousands of other boys to look at presently,\" said Cicely,\nlaughing at the old woman's frankness.\n\n\"Do you think there will be thousands?\" asked", "to his consideration by nimble-minded relations and friends. He listened\nto their suggestions with polite indifference, being rude only to a\ncousin who demonstrated how he might achieve a settled income of from two\nhundred to a thousand pounds a year by the propagation of mushrooms in a\nLondon basement. While his walk in life was still an undetermined\npromenade his parents died, leaving him with a carefully-invested income\nof thirty-seven pounds a year. At that point of his career Yeovil's\nknowledge of him stopped short;", "his grey mare, of the mouse who lived\nbeneath the merry mill-pin, of the sweet music on yonder green hill and\nthe dancers all in yellow--the songs and fancies of a lingering olden\ntime, when men took life as children take a long summer day, and went to\nbed at last with a simple trust in something they could not have\nexplained.\n\nYeovil watched the passing landscape with the intent hungry eyes of a man\nwho revisits a scene that holds high place in his affections. His\nimagination raced even quick", "Cicely rather\nhurriedly. \"I dare say some of them will find their way back some time,\nbut at present there's been rather an exodus.\"\n\n\"The Bredes,\" said Yeovil, \"are they here?\"\n\n\"No, the Bredes are in Scotland, at their place in Sutherlandshire; they\ndon't come south now, and the Ricardes are farming somewhere in East\nAfrica, the whole lot of them. Valham has got an appointment of some\nsort in the Straits Settlement", "what speed really was. The laughing-eyed young groom\ndisentangled the puppy from between Yeovil's legs, and then he was\nushered into the grey silence of the entrance hall, leaving sunlight and\nnoise and the stir of life behind him.\n\n\"Her ladyship will see you in her writing room,\" he was told, and he\nfollowed a servant along the dark passages to the well-remembered room.\n\nThere was something tragic in the sudden contrast between the vigour and\nyouth and pride of life that Yeovil had seen crystallised" ], [ "help to denationalise London. Berlin\nwill probably climb back to some of its old austerity and simplicity, a\nworld-ruling city with a great sense of its position and its\nresponsibilities, while London will become more and more the centre of\nwhat these people understand by life.\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience and disgust.\n\n\"I know, I know,\" said the doctor, sympathetically; \"life and enjoyment\nmean to you the howl of a wolf in a forest, the call of a wild swan on\nthe frozen t", "the King of Prussia, Great Britain, and Ireland, Emperor of\nthe West. It was the most imposing display that Londoners had seen since\nthe catastrophe.\n\nSlowly, grandly, with thunder of music and beat of hoofs, the procession\npassed through the crowd, across the sward towards the saluting base,\nslowly the eagle standard, charged with the leopards, lion and harp of\nthe conquered kingdoms, rose mast-high on the flag-staff and fluttered in\nthe breeze, slowly and with", "\nThe journey seemed suddenly to have recommenced; he was under his own\nroof, his servants were waiting on him, his familiar possessions were in\nevidence around him, but the sense of being at home had vanished. It was\nas though he had arrived at some wayside hotel, and been asked to\nregister his name and status and destination. Other things of disgust\nand irritation he had foreseen in the London he was coming to--the\nalterations on stamps and coinage, the intrusive Teuton element, the\nalien uniforms cropping up everywhere, the", "hurried up from side-walks and stood craning their\nnecks above the shoulders of earlier arrivals.\n\nThrough the archway at Hyde Park Corner came a resplendent cavalcade,\nwith a swirl of colour and rhythmic movement and a crash of exultant\nmusic; life-guards with gleaming helmets, a detachment of Wurtemberg\nlancers with a flutter of black and yellow pennons, a rich medley of\nstaff uniforms, a prancing array of princely horsemen, the Imperial\nStandard, and", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "English name of the street. A\nnotice directing the public to the neighbouring swimming baths was also\nwritten up in both languages. London had become a bi-lingual city, even\nas Warsaw.\n\nThe cab threaded its way swiftly along Buckingham Palace Road towards the\nMall. As they passed the long front of the Palace the traveller turned\nhis head resolutely away, that he might not see the alien uniforms at the\ngates and the eagle standard flapping in the sunlight. The taxi driver,\nwho seemed to have combative instincts", "hatefulness the brain recognised the necessity. The great\nfighting-machines that the Germans had built up and maintained, on land,\non sea, and in air, were three solid crushing facts that demonstrated the\nhopelessness of any immediate thought of revolt. Twenty years hence,\nwhen the present generation was older and greyer, the chances of armed\nrevolt would probably be equally hopeless, equally remote-seeming. But\nin the meantime something could have been effected in another way. The\nconquerors might partially Germanise London, but, on", "\nLondon public there was also a fair muster, more particularly centred in\nthe less expensive parts of the house, while in boxes, stalls and circles\na sprinkling of military uniforms gave an unfamiliar tone to the scene in\nthe eyes of those who had not previously witnessed a first-night\nperformance under the new conditions.\n\nYeovil, while standing aloof from his wife's participation in this social\nevent, had made private arrangements for being a personal spectator of\nthe scene; as one of the ticket-buying public he had secured a seat in\n", "colonial centre or even in a country town in\nEngland. India I couldn't stand. London is not merely a home to me, it\nis a world, and it happens to be just the world that suits me and that I\nam suited to. The German occupation, or whatever one likes to call it,\nis a calamity, but it's not like a molten deluge from Vesuvius that need\nsend us all scuttling away from another Pompeii. Of course,\" she added,\n\"there are things that jar horribly on one, even", "before stirring back to life\nand hunger, the coming of the dinner hour and the jollity of a\nwell-chosen house-party.\n\nThat was the call which was competing with that other trumpet-call, and\nYeovil knew on which side his choice would incline.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV: \"A PERFECTLY GLORIOUS AFTERNOON\"\n\n\nIt was one of the last days of July, cooled and freshened by a touch of\nrain and dropping back again to a languorous warmth. London", "said Lady Bailquist, again\nconsulting her programme. \"The King of Wurtemberg, and two of the\nBavarian royal Princes, an Abyssinian Envoy who is over here--he will\nlend a touch of picturesque barbarism to the scene--the general\ncommanding the London district and a whole lot of other military bigwigs,\nand the Austrian, Italian and Roumanian military attaches.\"\n\nShe reeled off the imposing list of notables with an air of quiet\nsatisfaction. Sir Leonard made mental", "the back row of a low-priced gallery, whence he might watch, observant\nand unobserved, the much talked-of debut of Gorla Mustelford, and the\nwriting of a new chapter in the history of the fait accompli. Around him\nhe noticed an incessant undercurrent of jangling laughter, an unending\ngive-and-take of meaningless mirthless jest and catchword. He had\nnoticed the same thing in streets and public places since his arrival in\nLondon, a noisy, empty interchange of chaff and laughter that", "young cleric, \"badly, in more senses than one. They\nare helpless and they are bitter--bitter in the useless kind of way that\nproduces no great resolutions. They look round for some one to blame for\nwhat has happened; they blame the politicians, they blame the leisured\nclasses; in an indirect way I believe they blame the Church. Certainly,\nthe national disaster has not drawn them towards religion in any form.\nOne thing you may be sure of, they do not blame themselves. No true\nLondoner ever admits that fault lies at his", "the war,\nbut they are beginning to get back their votaries because out-door sport\nhas become a necessity, and a very rational necessity, with numbers of\nmen who have to work otherwise under unnatural and exacting conditions.\nThat is one factor of the situation. The other affects London more\nespecially, but through London it influences the rest of the country to a\ncertain extent. You will see around you here much that will strike you\nas indications of heartless indifference to the calamity that has\nbefallen our nation. Well, you must remember that many things", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "alem is one of those most interested in keeping up the appearance, at\nany rate, of a London social season. Besides, her debut gave the\nopportunity for an Imperial visit to the theatre--the first appearance at\na festive public function of the Conqueror among the conquered.\nApparently the experiment passed off well; Shalem has every reason to\nfeel pleased with himself and well-disposed towards Gorla. By the way,\"\nadded Yeovil, \"talking of Gorla, I'm going down to Torywood one day next\nweek.\"", ", the men who by temperament and\neverything else were far more Teuton or Polish or Latin than they were\nBritish, it was not to be expected that they would be heartbroken because\nLondon had suddenly lost its place among the political capitals of the\nworld, and became a cosmopolitan city. They had appreciated the free and\neasy liberty of the old days, under British rule, but there was a stiff\ninsularity in the ruling race that they chafed against. Now, putting\naside some petty Government restrictions that Teutonic bureaucracy", "alien eyes and\njangling tongues, that he wanted to read the news of the Imperial\nAufklarung.\n\nBy a succession of by-ways he reached Hanover Square, and thence made his\nway into Oxford Street. There was no commotion of activity to be noticed\nyet among the newsboys; the posters still concerned themselves with the\nearthquake in Hungary, varied with references to the health of the King\nof Roumania, and a motor accident in South London. Yeovil wandered\naimlessly along the street for a few dozen", " Then he\nadded: \"I have only just lately come from abroad. I know scarcely\nanything of London as it is now. You may imagine that a good deal of it\nis very strange to me. Your profession must take you a good deal among\nall classes of people. I have seen something of what one may call the\nupper, or, at any rate, the richer classes, since I came back; do tell me\nsomething about the poorer classes of the community. How do they take\nthe new order of things?\"\n\n\"Badly,\" said the" ], [ "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "man; \"we mean business this\ntime. The last war wasn't a war, it was a snap. We weren't prepared and\nthey were. That won't happen again, bless you. I know what I'm talking\nabout. I go up and down the country, and I hear what people are saying.\"\n\nYeovil privately doubted if he ever heard anything but his own opinions.\n\n\"It stands to reason,\" continued the fisherman, \"that a highly civilised\nrace like ours, with the record that we've had", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "of universal brotherhood which did\nnot blunt a single Teuton bayonet when the hour came. I suppose in time\nparty divisions will reassert themselves in some form or other; there\nwill be a Socialist Party, and the mercantile and manufacturing interests\nwill evolve a sort of bourgeoise party, and the different religious\nbodies will try to get themselves represented--\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience.\n\n\"All these things that you forecast,\" he said, \"must take time,\nconsiderable time; is this nightmare, then", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "the\nnew war taxation that the people are finding so burdensome.\"\n\n\"One certainly cannot say that they have not had attractions held out to\nthem,\" said Sir Leonard.\n\n\"It is a special effort,\" said Lady Bailquist; \"it is worth making an\neffort for. They are going to be the Janissaries of the Empire; the\nyounger generation knocking at the doors of progress, and thrusting back\nthe bars and bolts of old racial prejudices. I tell you, Sir Leonard, it\nwill be an historic moment", "voting power was in their hands. They had not the leisure, however,\nto sit down and think clearly what the danger was; their own industrial\nwarfare was more real to them than anything that was threatening from the\nnation that they only knew from samples of German clerks and German\nwaiters.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" said Cicely, \"as regards the hunting, there is no Civil\nWar or national war raging just now, and there is no immediate likelihood\nof one. A good many hunting seasons will have to come and go before we\ncan think of a war", "of of his voice, like a hen calling to a brood of roving chickens.\n\n\"They grew soft,\" he resumed; \"great world-commerce brings great luxury,\nand luxury brings softness. They had everything to warn them, things\nhappening in their own time and before their eyes, and they would not be\nwarned. They had seen, in one generation, the rise of the military and\nnaval power of the Japanese, a brown-skinned race living in some island\nrice fields in a tropical sea, a people one thought of in connection with\n", ". Peace is what God gives us when He\ntakes us into His rest. Beat your sword into a ploughshare if you like,\nbut beat your enemy into smithereens first.\"\n\nA long-drawn cry, repeated again and again, detached itself from the\nthrob and hoot and whir of the street traffic.\n\n\"Speshul! Military service, spesh-ul!\"\n\nThe young clergyman sprang from his seat and went up the staircase in a\nsuccession of bounds, causing the domino players and novelette readers", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "for leading the whole\nworld, is not going to be held under for long by a lot of damned sausage-\neating Germans. Don't you believe it! I know what I'm talking about.\nI've travelled about the world a bit.\"\n\nYeovil shrewdly suspected that the world travels amounted to nothing more\nthan a trip to the United States and perhaps the Channel Islands, with,\npossibly, a week or fortnight in Paris.\n\n\"It isn't the past we've got to think of, it's the", "\"but he'll come back naturally feeling sore and savage\nwith everything he sees around him, and he won't realise just at once\nthat we've been through all that ourselves, and have reached the stage of\nsullen acquiescence in what can't be helped. He won't understand, for\ninstance, how we can be enthusiastic and excited over Gorla Mustelford's\ndebut, and things of that sort; he'll think we are a set of callous\nrevellers, fiddling while Rome is burning.\"\n\n\"In this", "le,\nwith the explosive articulation of one who cannot any longer hold back a\ntruth.\n\n\"Hark!\" said some one; \"I hear trumpets!\"\n\nThere was an instant concentration of listening, a straining of eyes.\n\nIt was only the toot of a passing motorcar. Even Sir Leonard Pitherby,\nwith the eye of faith, could not locate as much as a cloud of dust on the\nPark horizon.\n\nAnd now another sound was heard, a sound difficult to define, without\nbeginning, without dimension; the growing murmur of", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "scare-mongers,' and their\nverdict was for the vote-mongers all the time. And now they are bitter;\nthey are being punished, and punishment is not a thing that they have\nbeen schooled to bear. The taxes that are falling on them are a grievous\nsource of discontent, and the military service that will be imposed on\nthem, for the first time in their lives, will be another. There is a\nmore lovable side to their character under misfortune, though,\" added the\nyoung clergyman. \"Deep", "\"I\nloathe it. As to fighting, one must first find out what weapon to use,\nand how to use it effectively. One must watch and wait.\"\n\n\"One must not wait too long,\" said the old woman. \"Time is on their\nside, not ours. It is the young people we must fight for now, if they\nare ever to fight for us. A new generation will spring up, a weaker\nmemory of old glories will survive, the eclat of the ruling race will\ncapture young imaginations. If I had your youth,", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "uced perhaps by an earlier apprenticeship to the reading of Nineteenth\nCentury articles, in which the possible political and racial developments\nof various countries were examined and discussed and put away in the\npigeon-holes of probable happenings. She had sufficient knowledge of\npolitical history to know that such a development might possibly come to\npass, she had not sufficient insight into actual conditions to know that\nthe possibility was as remote as that of armed resistance. And the role\nwhich she saw herself playing was that of a deft and courtly political\nintriguer, rallying the", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the" ], [ "and\ngenerally afternoon, a land where bees hummed among the wild thyme and in\nthe flower beds of cottage gardens, where the harvest-mice rustled amid\nthe corn and nettles, and the mill-race flowed cool and silent through\nwater-weeds and dark tunnelled sluices, and made soft droning music with\nthe wooden mill-wheel. And the music carried with it the wording of old\nundying rhymes, and sang of the jolly, uncaring, uncared-for miller, of\nthe farmer who went riding upon", "horses of the neighbourhood; even the foxes seemed to have a personality,\nsome of them, and a personal history. It was a little like Hans\nAndersen, he decided, and a little like the Reminiscences of an Irish\nR.M., and perhaps just a little like some of the more probable adventures\nof Baron Munchausen. The newer stories were evidently true to the\nsmallest detail, the earlier ones had altered somewhat in repetition, as\nplants and animals vary under domestication.\n\nAnd all the time there was one topic", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "eyes, a knowledge of how to dress, and\na pleasant disposition, cankered just a little by a perpetual dread of\nthe non-recognition of her genius. As the woman, Augusta Smith, she\nprobably would have been unreservedly happy; as the super-woman,\nRhapsodic Pantril, she lived within the border-line of discontent. Her\nmost ordinary remarks were framed with the view of arresting attention;\nsome one once said of her that she ordered a sack of potatoes with the\nair of one who is making en", "is genuinely but unseeingly addicted to\nunselfishness.\n\nAlso she kept in her armoury the weapon which can be so mightily\neffective if used sparingly by a really sincere individual--the knowledge\nof when to be a humbug. Ambition entered to a certain extent into her\nlife, and governed it perhaps rather more than she knew. She desired to\nescape from the doom of being a nonentity, but the escape would have to\nbe effected in her own way and in her own time; to be governed by\nambition was only a", "deathless letters, and his successors in the title had perpetuated the\nhobby. Little lawns and ponds and shrubberies were partitioned off for\nthe various ground-loving species, and higher cages with interlacing\nperches and rockwork shelves accommodated the birds whose natural\nexpression of movement was on the wing. Quails and francolins scurried\nabout under low-growing shrubs, peacock-pheasants strutted and sunned\nthemselves, pugnacious ruffs engaged in perfunct", "as Frederick the Great,\" said Cornelian's\nneighbour, fingering a sheet of the Dawn.\n\n\"Isn't that exactly what one would have expected Pitherby to do?\" said\nCornelian. \"He's so desperately anxious to announce to all whom it may\nconcern that he has written a life of that hero. He had an uninspiring-\nlooking woman with him, supposed to represent Military Genius.\"\n\n\"The Spirit of Advertisement would have been more appropriate,\" said the\nother.\n\n\"The opening", " Try and liven things\nup a bit.\"\n\nA loud barking sound, as of fur-seals calling across Arctic ice, came\nfrom another table, where Mrs. Mentieth-Mendlesohnn (one of the\nMendlesohnns of Invergordon, as she was wont to describe herself) was\nproclaiming the glories and subtleties of Gorla's achievement.\n\n\"It was a revelation,\" she shouted; \"I sat there and saw a whole new\nscheme of thought unfold itself before my eyes. One could", "\nhuman glory that two or three independent souls had even now drifted from\nthe theme of the moment on to other more personally interesting topics.\n\n\"Iced mulberry salad, my dear, it's a specialite de la maison, so to\nspeak; they say the roving husband brought the recipe from Astrakhan, or\nSeville, or some such outlandish place.\"\n\n\"I wish my husband would roam about a bit and bring back strange\npalatable dishes. No such luck, he's got asthma and has to keep on a\ngr", "enough to establish the novelty of the thing. Among other things she\ndoes a dance suggesting the life of a fern; I saw one of the rehearsals,\nand to me it would have equally well suggested the life of John Wesley.\nHowever, that is probably the fault of my imagination--I've either got\ntoo much or too little. Anyhow it is an understood thing that she is to\ntake London by storm.\"\n\n\"When I last saw Gorla Mustelford,\" observed Yeovil, \"she was a rather\nserious flapper who thought the", "his grey mare, of the mouse who lived\nbeneath the merry mill-pin, of the sweet music on yonder green hill and\nthe dancers all in yellow--the songs and fancies of a lingering olden\ntime, when men took life as children take a long summer day, and went to\nbed at last with a simple trust in something they could not have\nexplained.\n\nYeovil watched the passing landscape with the intent hungry eyes of a man\nwho revisits a scene that holds high place in his affections. His\nimagination raced even quick", "there was a ruffle in her soul that\ncalled for some answering disturbance on the part of that superbly\ntranquil young man, and certainly called in vain. Cicely had set up for\nherself a fetish of onyx with eyes of jade, and doubtless hungered at\ntimes with an unreasonable but perfectly natural hunger for something of\nflesh and blood. It was the religion of her life to know exactly what\nshe wanted and to see that she got it, but there was no possible\nguarantee against her occasionally experiencing a desire for something", "acency, still engaged, in all probability, in reclothing\nhimself in the finery of the previous evening.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII: THE DEAD WHO DO NOT UNDERSTAND\n\n\nThe pale light of a November afternoon faded rapidly into the dusk of a\nNovember evening. Far over the countryside housewives put up their\ncottage shutters, lit their lamps, and made the customary remark that the\ndays were drawing in. In barn yards and poultry-runs the greediest\npullets made a final tour of", "we all know, but the two go quite well together. And the dear\nman is not content with his services to literature, he's blossoming forth\nas a liberal patron of the arts. He's taken quite a lot of tickets for\ndear Gorla's debut; half the second row of the dress-circle.\"\n\n\"Do you mean Gorla Mustelford?\" asked Yeovil, catching at the name; \"what\non earth is she having a debut about?\"\n\n\"What?\" cried Joan, in loud-voiced amazement; \"haven't", "fire faded out of the jade-coloured eyes,\nand Ronnie became once more a well-groomed youth in a drawing-room full\nof well-dressed people. But around him rose an explosive clamour of\napplause and congratulation, the sincere tribute of appreciation and the\nequally hearty expression of imitative homage.\n\n\"It is a great gift, a great gift,\" chanted Canon Mousepace, \"You must\nput it to a great use. A talent is vouchsafed to us for a purpose;", ", who was for once in a way\nin a chattering mood, and also included an American dowager, who had\nnever been known to be in anything else. A tone of literary distinction\nwas imparted to the group by the presence of Augusta Smith, better known\nunder her pen-name of Rhapsodic Pantril, author of a play that had had a\nlimited but well-advertised success in Sheffield and the United States of\nAmerica, author also of a book of reminiscences, entitled \"Things I\nCannot Forget.\" She had beautiful", "ant\npulse of youth and mastery set to loud Pagan music. A group of lads from\nthe tea-shop clustered on the pavement and watched the troops go by,\nstaring at a phase of life in which they had no share. The martial\ntrappings, the swaggering joy of life, the comradeship of camp and\nbarracks, the hard discipline of drill yard and fatigue duty, the long\nsentry watches, the trench digging, forced marches, wounds, cold, hunger,\nmakeshift hospitals,", "deal,\" said Rhapsodic Pantril vaguely, but\nimpressively, after the Fern dance had been given and applauded.\n\n\"At any rate we know now that a fern takes life very seriously,\" broke in\nJoan Mardle, who had somehow wriggled herself into Cicely's box.\n\nAs Yeovil, from the back of his gallery, watched Gorla running and\nricochetting about the stage, looking rather like a wagtail in energetic\npursuit of invisible gnats and midges, he wondered how", "things. The horses gradually detached\nthemselves from the crowd of unimportant men and came one by one into\nmomentary prominence, to be discussed and appraised for their good points\nand bad points, and finally to be bid for. And always there was one\nhorse that detached itself conspicuously from the rest, the ideal hunter,\nor at any rate, Yeovil's ideal of the ideal hunter. Mentally it was put\nthrough its paces before him, its pedigree and brief history recounted to\n", "one of the\nsuccesses of the evening was Leutnant von Gabelroth, as George\nWashington, with Joan Mardle as his shadow, typifying Inconvenient\nCandour. He put her down officially as Truthfulness, but every one had\nheard the other version.\"\n\n\"Good for the Gabelroth, though he does belong to the invading Horde;\nit's not often that any one scores off Joan.\"\n\n\"Another blaze of magnificence was the loud-voiced Bessimer woman, as the\nGoddess Jun" ], [ "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "saying into \"While life is with us how little of life even\nthe materialist understands.\" Most people that she knew took endless\npains and precautions to preserve and prolong their lives and keep their\npowers of enjoyment unimpaired; few, very few, seemed to make any\nintelligent effort at understanding what they really wanted in the way of\nenjoying their lives, or to ascertain what were the best means for\nsatisfying those wants. Fewer still bent their whole energies to the one\nparamount aim of getting what they wanted in the fullest possible", " Try and liven things\nup a bit.\"\n\nA loud barking sound, as of fur-seals calling across Arctic ice, came\nfrom another table, where Mrs. Mentieth-Mendlesohnn (one of the\nMendlesohnns of Invergordon, as she was wont to describe herself) was\nproclaiming the glories and subtleties of Gorla's achievement.\n\n\"It was a revelation,\" she shouted; \"I sat there and saw a whole new\nscheme of thought unfold itself before my eyes. One could", "as they are. And now you are going to go a step beyond that,\nand other people will applaud you and say that you are wonderful, and\ninvite you to eat with them and motor with them and yacht with them. As\nsoon as that begins to happen, Ronnie, a lot of other things will come to\nan end. Of course I've always known that you don't really care for me,\nbut as soon as the world knows it you are irrevocably damaged as a\nplaything. That is the great secret that binds us together", "assertions taken up and shaken into shape.\n\n\"We have given a clever and domineering people a chance to plant\nthemselves down as masters in our land; I don't imagine that they are\ngoing to give us an easy chance to push them out. To do that we shall\nhave to be a little cleverer than they are, a little harder, a little\nfiercer, and a good deal more self-sacrificing than we have been in my\nlifetime or in yours.\"\n\n\"We'll be that, right enough,\" said the fisher", "\nmeasure. Her scheme of life was not a wholly selfish one; no one could\nunderstand what she wanted as well as she did herself, therefore she felt\nthat she was the best person to pursue her own ends and cater for her own\nwants. To have others thinking and acting for one merely meant that one\nhad to be perpetually grateful for a lot of well-meant and usually\nunsatisfactory services. It was like the case of a rich man giving a\ncommunity a free library, when probably the community only wanted free\nfishing or reduced tram-fares.", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "adherent or\nhalf-convinced opponent, she had laboured on behalf of the poor and the\nill-equipped, had fought for her idea of the Right, and above all, for\nthe safety and sanity of her Fatherland. Spadework when necessary and\nleadership when called for, came alike within the scope of her\nactivities, and not least of her achievements, though perhaps she hardly\nrealised it, was the force of her example, a lone, indomitable fighter\ncalling to the half-caring and the half-discouraged,", "advantage: it makes a nation merry. Where\nfar-reaching ambition has no scope for its development the community\nsquanders its energy on the trivial and personal cares of its daily life,\nand seeks relief and recreation in simple and easily obtained material\nenjoyment.\" The writer was a man who had known bondage, so he spoke at\nany rate with authority. Of the London of the moment it could not,\nhowever, be said with any truth that it was merry, but merely that its\ninhabitants made desperate endeavour not to appear crushed", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "is genuinely but unseeingly addicted to\nunselfishness.\n\nAlso she kept in her armoury the weapon which can be so mightily\neffective if used sparingly by a really sincere individual--the knowledge\nof when to be a humbug. Ambition entered to a certain extent into her\nlife, and governed it perhaps rather more than she knew. She desired to\nescape from the doom of being a nonentity, but the escape would have to\nbe effected in her own way and in her own time; to be governed by\nambition was only a", "ess that they punctiliously observed in other affairs of life. A\nrunning fire of contemptuous remarks and aggressive satire accompanied\neach move, and the mere record of the conversation would have given an\nuninitiated onlooker the puzzling impression that an easy and crushing\nvictory was assured to both the players.\n\n\"Aha, he is puzzled. Poor man, he doesn't know what to do . . . Oho, he\nthinks he will move there, does he? Much good that will do him. . . .\nNever have I seen", "\"but he'll come back naturally feeling sore and savage\nwith everything he sees around him, and he won't realise just at once\nthat we've been through all that ourselves, and have reached the stage of\nsullen acquiescence in what can't be helped. He won't understand, for\ninstance, how we can be enthusiastic and excited over Gorla Mustelford's\ndebut, and things of that sort; he'll think we are a set of callous\nrevellers, fiddling while Rome is burning.\"\n\n\"In this", "\"I\nloathe it. As to fighting, one must first find out what weapon to use,\nand how to use it effectively. One must watch and wait.\"\n\n\"One must not wait too long,\" said the old woman. \"Time is on their\nside, not ours. It is the young people we must fight for now, if they\nare ever to fight for us. A new generation will spring up, a weaker\nmemory of old glories will survive, the eclat of the ruling race will\ncapture young imaginations. If I had your youth,", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "unstinted in\ntheir praise of anything that they are certain they cannot understand.\nWhatever might be the subsequent verdict of the theatre-filling public\nthe majority of the favoured first-night audience was determined to set\nthe seal of its approval on the suggestion dances, and a steady roll of\napplause greeted the conclusion of each item. The dancer gravely bowed\nher thanks; in marked contradistinction to the gentleman who had\n\"presented\" the performing wolves she did not permit herself the luxury\nof a smile.\n\n\"It teaches us a great", "there, a wan, shrunken shadow,\nyet with a greater strength and reality in her flickering life than those\nparrot men and women that fluttered and chattered through London drawing-\nrooms and theatre foyers.\n\nAs the carriage swung round a bend in the drive Yeovil looked back at\nTorywood, a lone, grey building, couched like a watchdog with pricked\nears and wakeful eyes in the midst of the sleeping landscape. An old\npleading voice was still ringing in his ears:\n\n Imperious and yet for", "and it\nwill ruin him. I speak feelingly because I'm gravitating towards\nplumpness myself. The Divine Architect turns us out fearfully and\nwonderfully built, and the result is charming to the eye, and then He\nadds another chin and two or three extra inches round the waist, and the\neffect is ruined. Fortunately you can always find another Ronnie when\nthis one grows fat and uninteresting; the supply of boys who look nice\nand eat asparagus is unlimited. Hullo, Mr. Storre, we were all", "ously. But meanwhile it is necessary to\npreserve our industrial life and our social life, and for that reason we\nmust accommodate ourselves to present circumstances, however distasteful\nthey may be. Emigration to some colonial wilderness, or holding\nourselves rigidly aloof from the life of the capital, won't help matters.\nReally, Murrey, if you will think things over a bit, you will see that\nthe course I am following is the one dictated by sane patriotism.\"\n\n\"Whom the gods wish to render harmless they first" ], [ "uting base--over there, where the big flag-staff has been set up. The\nboys will come in by Hyde Park Corner, the Marble Arch, and the Albert\nGate, according to their districts, and form in one big column over\nthere, where the little flags are pegged out. Then the young Prince will\ninspect them and lead them past His Majesty.\"\n\n\"Who will be with the Imperial party?\" asked Sir Leonard.\n\n\"Oh, it is to be an important affair; everything will be done to\nemphasise the significance of the occasion,\"", "the King of Prussia, Great Britain, and Ireland, Emperor of\nthe West. It was the most imposing display that Londoners had seen since\nthe catastrophe.\n\nSlowly, grandly, with thunder of music and beat of hoofs, the procession\npassed through the crowd, across the sward towards the saluting base,\nslowly the eagle standard, charged with the leopards, lion and harp of\nthe conquered kingdoms, rose mast-high on the flag-staff and fluttered in\nthe breeze, slowly and with", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "hurried up from side-walks and stood craning their\nnecks above the shoulders of earlier arrivals.\n\nThrough the archway at Hyde Park Corner came a resplendent cavalcade,\nwith a swirl of colour and rhythmic movement and a crash of exultant\nmusic; life-guards with gleaming helmets, a detachment of Wurtemberg\nlancers with a flutter of black and yellow pennons, a rich medley of\nstaff uniforms, a prancing array of princely horsemen, the Imperial\nStandard, and", "get through,\" said Sir Leonard Pitherby in an\nequally high-pitched voice; \"and of course,\" he added vaguely, \"it takes\nsome time to get the various units together. One must give them a few\nminutes' grace.\"\n\nLady Bailquist said nothing, but her restless watchful eyes were turned\nfirst to Hyde Park Corner and then in the direction of the Marble Arch,\nback again to Hyde Park Corner. Only the dark lines of the waiting crowd\nmet her view, with the yellow newspaper placards flitting", "help to denationalise London. Berlin\nwill probably climb back to some of its old austerity and simplicity, a\nworld-ruling city with a great sense of its position and its\nresponsibilities, while London will become more and more the centre of\nwhat these people understand by life.\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience and disgust.\n\n\"I know, I know,\" said the doctor, sympathetically; \"life and enjoyment\nmean to you the howl of a wolf in a forest, the call of a wild swan on\nthe frozen t", "said Lady Bailquist, again\nconsulting her programme. \"The King of Wurtemberg, and two of the\nBavarian royal Princes, an Abyssinian Envoy who is over here--he will\nlend a touch of picturesque barbarism to the scene--the general\ncommanding the London district and a whole lot of other military bigwigs,\nand the Austrian, Italian and Roumanian military attaches.\"\n\nShe reeled off the imposing list of notables with an air of quiet\nsatisfaction. Sir Leonard made mental", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "le,\nwith the explosive articulation of one who cannot any longer hold back a\ntruth.\n\n\"Hark!\" said some one; \"I hear trumpets!\"\n\nThere was an instant concentration of listening, a straining of eyes.\n\nIt was only the toot of a passing motorcar. Even Sir Leonard Pitherby,\nwith the eye of faith, could not locate as much as a cloud of dust on the\nPark horizon.\n\nAnd now another sound was heard, a sound difficult to define, without\nbeginning, without dimension; the growing murmur of", "went.\n\nGrace, Lady Shalem, was a woman who had blossomed into sudden importance\nby constituting herself a sort of foster-mother to the fait accompli. At\na moment when London was denuded of most of its aforetime social leaders\nshe had seen her opportunity, and made the most of it. She had not\ncontented herself with bowing to the inevitable, she had stretched out\nher hand to it, and forced herself to smile graciously at it, and her\npolite attentions had been reciprocated. Lady Shal", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "for leading the whole\nworld, is not going to be held under for long by a lot of damned sausage-\neating Germans. Don't you believe it! I know what I'm talking about.\nI've travelled about the world a bit.\"\n\nYeovil shrewdly suspected that the world travels amounted to nothing more\nthan a trip to the United States and perhaps the Channel Islands, with,\npossibly, a week or fortnight in Paris.\n\n\"It isn't the past we've got to think of, it's the", "English name of the street. A\nnotice directing the public to the neighbouring swimming baths was also\nwritten up in both languages. London had become a bi-lingual city, even\nas Warsaw.\n\nThe cab threaded its way swiftly along Buckingham Palace Road towards the\nMall. As they passed the long front of the Palace the traveller turned\nhis head resolutely away, that he might not see the alien uniforms at the\ngates and the eagle standard flapping in the sunlight. The taxi driver,\nwho seemed to have combative instincts", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", ", a preliminary rally. It is the first step\nthat counts, that is why to-day's event is of such importance.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course, the first step on the road,\" assented Sir Leonard.\n\n\"I can assure you,\" continued Lady Bailquist, \"that nothing has been left\nundone to rally the Scouts to the new order of things. Special\nprivileges have been showered on them, alone among all the cadet corps\nthey have been allowed to retain their organisation, a decoration of\nmerit has been instituted", "notes of personages to whom he\nmight send presentation copies of his new work \"Frederick-William, the\nGreat Elector, a Popular Biography,\" as a souvenir of to-day's auspicious\nevent.\n\n\"It is nearly a quarter to three now,\" he said; \"let us get a good\nposition before the crowd gets thicker.\"\n\n\"Come along to my car, it is just opposite to the saluting base,\" said\nher ladyship; \"I have a police pass that will let us through. We'll ask\nM", " \"Neither, it's Austrian, the Austrian military\nattache\" . . . \"That is von Stoppel talking to His Majesty; he organised\nthe Boy Scouts in Germany, you know.\" . . . \"His Majesty is looking very\npleased.\" \"He has reason to look pleased; this is a great event in the\nhistory of the two countries. It marks a new epoch.\" . . . \"Oh, do you\nsee the Abyssinian Envoy? What a picturesque figure he makes. How well\nhe sits", "the club, an elephant, whale,\nand eagle, typifying the three armed forces of the State, by land and sea\nand air; the eagle bore in its beak a scroll with the proud legend: \"The\nlast am I, but not the least.\"\n\nTo the eastward of this gaily-humming hive the long shuttered front of a\ndeserted ducal mansion struck a note of protest and mourning amid the\nnoise and whirl and colour of a seemingly uncaring city. On the other\nside of the roadway, on the", "the\nnew war taxation that the people are finding so burdensome.\"\n\n\"One certainly cannot say that they have not had attractions held out to\nthem,\" said Sir Leonard.\n\n\"It is a special effort,\" said Lady Bailquist; \"it is worth making an\neffort for. They are going to be the Janissaries of the Empire; the\nyounger generation knocking at the doors of progress, and thrusting back\nthe bars and bolts of old racial prejudices. I tell you, Sir Leonard, it\nwill be an historic moment" ], [ "in different continents.\nI don't call it marriage at all.' 'Nonsense,' I said, 'it's the best way\nof doing things. The Yeovils will be a united and devoted couple long\nafter heaps of their married contemporaries have trundled through the\nDivorce Court.' I forgot at the moment that her youngest girl had\ndivorced her husband last year, and that her second girl is rumoured to\nbe contemplating a similar step. One can't remember everything.\"\n\nJoan Mardle was remarkable for being able", "when one has got more or\nless accustomed to them, but one must just learn to be philosophical and\nbear them.\"\n\n\"Supposing they are not bearable?\" said Yeovil; \"during the few days that\nI've been in the land I've seen things that I cannot imagine will ever be\nbearable.\"\n\n\"That is because they're new to you,\" said Cicely.\n\n\"I don't wish that they should ever come to seem bearable,\" retorted\nYeovil. \"I've been bred and", "me,\" said the policeman, \"and you receive a quittance for the\nsum paid,\" and he proceeded to tear a counterfoil receipt for a three\nshilling fine from a small pocket book.\n\n\"May I ask,\" said Yeovil, as he handed over the sum demanded and received\nhis quittance, \"what the red and white band on your sleeve stands for?\"\n\n\"Bi-lingual,\" said the constable, with an air of importance. \"Preference\nis given to members of the Force who qualify in both languages. Nearly\nall", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "proof the bi-lingual constable strode heavily\naway, his loss of consideration and self-esteem as a unit of a sometime\nruling race evidently compensated for to some extent by his enhanced\nimportance as an official.\n\n\"The women and children,\" thought Yeovil, as he looked after the\nretreating figure; \"yes, that is one side of the problem. The children\nthat have to be fed and schooled, the women folk that have to be cared\nfor, an old mother, perhaps, in the home that cannot be broken up. The", "prisons; those of\nthem that have not been successful in keeping clear of detection are\nwalking round and round prison yards, experiencing the operation of a\ndiscipline that breaks and does not build. They were merry-hearted boys\nonce, with nothing of the criminal or ne'er-do-weel in their natures, and\nnow--have you ever seen a prison yard, with that walk round and round and\nround between grey walls under a blue sky?\"\n\nYeovil nodded.\n\n\"It's good enough for criminals and imbeciles,\"", "he had been\nat a loss to account for. The Londoner is not well adapted for the\nirresponsible noisiness of jesting tongue that bubbles up naturally in a\nSouthern race, and the effort to be volatile was the more noticeable\nbecause it so obviously was an effort. Turning over the pages of a book\nthat told the story of Bulgarian social life in the days of Turkish rule,\nYeovil had that morning come across a passage that seemed to throw some\nlight on the thing that had puzzled him:\n\n\"Bondage has this one", ", also looking\nround at the landscape and thinking doubtless of a very different scene;\n\"they have an outdoor life and plenty of liberty. They have their ponies\nto ride, and there is a lake up above us that is a fine place for them to\nbathe and boat in; the three boys are there now, having their morning\nswim. The eldest is sixteen and he is allowed to have a gun, and there\nis some good wild fowl shooting to be had in the reed beds at the further\nend of the lake. I think that part of the joy", ",\nwith its quaint leaden figures of Diana pursuing a hound-pressed stag,\nsuccessive squires and lords of Torywood had walked to and fro with their\nfriends, watching the thunderclouds on the political horizon or the\nshifting shadows on the sundial of political favour, tapping the\npolitical barometer for indications of change, working out a party\ncampaign or arranging for the support of some national movement. To and\nfro they had gone in their respective generations, men with the passion\nfor statecraft and political combat strong in their ve", "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "eovil stared at the man and then turned to look at the small\nneatly-printed notice to which the official was imperiously pointing; in\ntwo languages it was made known that it was forbidden and verboten,\npunishable and straffbar, to walk on the grass.\n\n\"Three shilling fine,\" said the policeman, extending his hand for the\nmoney.\n\n\"Do I pay you?\" asked Yeovil, feeling almost inclined to laugh; \"I'm\nrather a stranger to the new order of things.\"\n\n\"You pay", " Try and liven things\nup a bit.\"\n\nA loud barking sound, as of fur-seals calling across Arctic ice, came\nfrom another table, where Mrs. Mentieth-Mendlesohnn (one of the\nMendlesohnns of Invergordon, as she was wont to describe herself) was\nproclaiming the glories and subtleties of Gorla's achievement.\n\n\"It was a revelation,\" she shouted; \"I sat there and saw a whole new\nscheme of thought unfold itself before my eyes. One could", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "some joking remark, answering some question of interest, learning\nsomething of hunting ways and traditions in von Gabelroth's own country.\nAnd when the car turned in at the gate of the hunting lodge and drew up\nat the steps the laws of hospitality demanded that Yeovil should ask his\nbenefactor of the road to come in for a few minutes and drink something a\nlittle better than the wayside inn had been able to supply. The young\nofficer spent the best part of a half hour in Yeovil's snuggery,\nexamining and discussing", ". They would take pains to be intimately familiar with the\ndomestic affairs and views of life of some Galician gipsy dramatist, and\ngravely quote and discuss his opinions on debts and mistresses and\ncookery, while they would shudder at 'D'ye ken John Peel?' as a piece of\nuncouth barbarity. You cannot expect a world of that sort to be\npermanently concerned or downcast because the Crown of Charlemagne takes\nits place now on the top of the Royal box in the theatres, or at the head", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "ways of doing\nthings; they are primitive and unenterprising of course, but they have an\naccumulated store of experience behind them, and one has to tread warily\nin initiating improvements.\"\n\nThe Frenchman looked round at the brown sun-scorched hills, with the\ndusty empty road showing here and there in the middle distance and other\nbrown sun-scorched hills rounding off the scene; he looked at the lizards\non the verandah walls, at the jars for keeping the water cool, at the\nnumberless little insect", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "of universal brotherhood which did\nnot blunt a single Teuton bayonet when the hour came. I suppose in time\nparty divisions will reassert themselves in some form or other; there\nwill be a Socialist Party, and the mercantile and manufacturing interests\nwill evolve a sort of bourgeoise party, and the different religious\nbodies will try to get themselves represented--\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience.\n\n\"All these things that you forecast,\" he said, \"must take time,\nconsiderable time; is this nightmare, then" ], [ "eovil stared at the man and then turned to look at the small\nneatly-printed notice to which the official was imperiously pointing; in\ntwo languages it was made known that it was forbidden and verboten,\npunishable and straffbar, to walk on the grass.\n\n\"Three shilling fine,\" said the policeman, extending his hand for the\nmoney.\n\n\"Do I pay you?\" asked Yeovil, feeling almost inclined to laugh; \"I'm\nrather a stranger to the new order of things.\"\n\n\"You pay", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "me,\" said the policeman, \"and you receive a quittance for the\nsum paid,\" and he proceeded to tear a counterfoil receipt for a three\nshilling fine from a small pocket book.\n\n\"May I ask,\" said Yeovil, as he handed over the sum demanded and received\nhis quittance, \"what the red and white band on your sleeve stands for?\"\n\n\"Bi-lingual,\" said the constable, with an air of importance. \"Preference\nis given to members of the Force who qualify in both languages. Nearly\nall", "t it? And yet I suppose the knowledge of being able to jump\nthrough a hoop better than any other wolf would justify a certain amount\nof 'side.'\"\n\nFortunately at this moment a young Italian journalist at another table\nrose from his seat and delivered a two-minute oration in praise of the\nheroine of the evening. He spoke in rapid nervous French, with a North\nItalian accent, but much of what he said could be understood by the\nmajority of those present, and the applause was unanimous. At any rate\nhe had been brief and", "flaunting all over the place, but\nwhat is one to do?\"\n\nYeovil said nothing, with the air of a man who could have said a great\ndeal.\n\n\"I suppose you wonder, why remain a member under those conditions?\"\ncontinued Herlton. \"Well, as far as I am concerned, a place like this is\na necessity for me. In fact, it's my profession, my source of income.\"\n\n\"Are you as good at bridge as all that?\" asked Yeovil; \"I'm a fairly\nsuccessful player", ".\n\nThe Row and its riders had become suddenly detestable to the wanderer; he\nwould not run the risk of seeing that insolently joyous cavalcade come\ngalloping past again. Beyond a narrow stretch of tree-shaded grass lay\nthe placid sunlit water of the Serpentine, and Yeovil made a short cut\nacross the turf to reach its gravelled bank.\n\n\"Can't you read either English or German?\" asked a policeman who\nconfronted him as he stepped off the turf.\n\nY", "had\ntheir reward; torn and exhausted and debt-encumbered from their\ncampaigns, they were masters in their own house, the Bulgarian flag flew\nover the Bulgarian mountains. And Yeovil stole a glance at the crown of\nCharlemagne set over the Royal box.\n\nIn a capacious box immediately opposite the one set aside for royalty the\nLady Shalem sat in well-considered prominence, confident that every press\ncritic and reporter would note her presence, and that one or two of them\nwould describe, or misdescribe,", "he had been\nat a loss to account for. The Londoner is not well adapted for the\nirresponsible noisiness of jesting tongue that bubbles up naturally in a\nSouthern race, and the effort to be volatile was the more noticeable\nbecause it so obviously was an effort. Turning over the pages of a book\nthat told the story of Bulgarian social life in the days of Turkish rule,\nYeovil had that morning come across a passage that seemed to throw some\nlight on the thing that had puzzled him:\n\n\"Bondage has this one", "don't know,\" confessed Yeovil; \"you see glory hasn't come very much my\nway lately.\" Then, before he exactly realised what he was doing, he\nraised his voice and quoted loudly for the benefit of half the room:\n\n \"'Other Romans shall arise,\n Heedless of a soldier's name,\n Sounds, not deeds, shall win the prize,\n Harmony the path to fame.'\"\n\nThere was a sort of shiver of surprised silence at Yeovil's end of the\nroom.\n\n\"Hell!\"\n", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "before him.\n\nInstead he broke into the conversation with an inspired flash of\nmalicious untruthfulness.\n\n\"It is wonderful,\" he observed carelessly, \"how popular that Viennese\nstatue of Mozart has become. A friend who inspects County Council Art\nSchools tells me you find a copy of it in every class-room you go into.\"\n\nIt was a poor substitute for physical violence, but it was all that\ncivilisation allowed him in the way of relieving his feelings; it had,\nmoreover, the effect of making Plarsey profound", "there any detailed account of my\ncostume in the Dawn?\"\n\nHis companion laughed cynically.\n\n\"As if you hadn't read everything that the Dawn and the other morning\npapers have to say about the ball hours ago.\"\n\n\"The naked truth should be avoided in a Turkish bath,\" said Cornelian;\n\"kindly assume that I've only had time to glance at the weather forecast\nand the news from China.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well,\" said the other; \"your costume isn't described; you\nsimply come amid a host of others", "? Isn't he?\" exclaimed a young American\nwoman, with an enthusiasm to which Lady Peach entirely failed to respond.\nShe had intended following up her story with the account of another\ntragedy of a similar nature that had befallen her three years ago in\nArgyllshire, and now the opportunity had gone. She turned morosely to\nthe consolations of a tongue salad.\n\nAt the centre table the excellent von Tolb led a chorus of congratulation\nand compliment, to which Gorla listened with an air of polite detachment,\nmuch", "ess that they punctiliously observed in other affairs of life. A\nrunning fire of contemptuous remarks and aggressive satire accompanied\neach move, and the mere record of the conversation would have given an\nuninitiated onlooker the puzzling impression that an easy and crushing\nvictory was assured to both the players.\n\n\"Aha, he is puzzled. Poor man, he doesn't know what to do . . . Oho, he\nthinks he will move there, does he? Much good that will do him. . . .\nNever have I seen", "room and a lively black kitten helped\nhim to dress, and incidentally helped him to require a new tassel to the\ncord of his dressing-gown. As he finished his toilet and the kitten\nfinished its sixth and most notable attack on the tassel a ring was heard\nat the front door, and a moment later a loud, hearty, and unmistakably\nhungry voice resounded in the hall. It belonged to the local doctor, who\nhad also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the\nev", ", and who would no doubt be willing to drop him at his\ndestination; the gentleman had also been out with the hounds. Yeovil's\nhorse could be stabled at the inn and fetched home by a groom the next\nmorning. A hurried embassy to the bar parlour resulted in the news that\nthe motorist would be delighted to be of assistance to a\nfellow-sportsman. Yeovil gratefully accepted the chance that had so\nobligingly come his way, and hastened to superintend the housing of his\nhorse in", "I had temperament to the finger-\ntips, and I was too polite to contradict him. But I haven't told you the\nreally important thing about the Mustelford debut. It is a profound\nsecret, more or less, so you must promise not to breathe a word about it\ntill half-past four, when it will appear in all the six o'clock\nnewspapers.\"\n\nTony paused for dramatic effect, while he drained his goblet, and then\nmade his announcement.\n\n\"Majesty is going to be present. ", "one of the\nsuccesses of the evening was Leutnant von Gabelroth, as George\nWashington, with Joan Mardle as his shadow, typifying Inconvenient\nCandour. He put her down officially as Truthfulness, but every one had\nheard the other version.\"\n\n\"Good for the Gabelroth, though he does belong to the invading Horde;\nit's not often that any one scores off Joan.\"\n\n\"Another blaze of magnificence was the loud-voiced Bessimer woman, as the\nGoddess Jun", "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "floors below,\nwhose nimbleness and audacity were as precious to him as the forwardness\nof the birds is to a skilled gun on a grouse moor. Once every day Wotan\ncame marching in stately fashion across the polished floor, halted mid-\nway to resume an unfinished toilet operation, and then proceeded to pay\nhis leisurely respects to his friend von Kwarl. The latter was said to\nbe prouder of this daily demonstration of esteem than of his many coveted\norders of merit. " ], [ "paper fans and flowers and pretty tea-gardens, who suddenly marched and\nsailed into the world's gaze as a Great Power; they had seen, too, the\nrise of the Bulgars, a poor herd of zaptieh-ridden peasants, with a few\nstudents scattered in exile in Bukarest and Odessa, who shot up in one\ngeneration to be an armed and aggressive nation with history in its\nhands. The English saw these things happening around them, and with a\nwar-cloud growing blacker and bigger and always more threatening", "towards\nour neighbours. We backed France up the other day in her squabble with\nSpain over the Moroccan boundaries, and proclaimed our opinion that the\nRepublic had as indisputable a mission on the North Africa coast as we\nhave in the North Sea. That is not the action or the language of\naggression. No,\" continued von Kwarl, after a moment's silence, \"the\nworld may fear us and dislike us, but, for the present at any rate, there\nwill be no leagues against us. No, there", "between men of the same\nnation that exists now. Northumberland was almost as foreign to Devon or\nKent as Normandy was. And the Church in those days was a great\ninternational factor, and the Crusades bound men together fighting under\none leader for a common cause. Also there was not a great national past\nto be forgotten as there is in this case.\"\n\n\"There are many factors, certainly, that are against us,\" conceded the\nstatesman, \"but you must also take into account those that will help us.\nIn most cases in recent history", "voting power was in their hands. They had not the leisure, however,\nto sit down and think clearly what the danger was; their own industrial\nwarfare was more real to them than anything that was threatening from the\nnation that they only knew from samples of German clerks and German\nwaiters.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" said Cicely, \"as regards the hunting, there is no Civil\nWar or national war raging just now, and there is no immediate likelihood\nof one. A good many hunting seasons will have to come and go before we\ncan think of a war", "doctor, \"with a wholly unimportant disagreement\nabout some frontier business in East Africa; there was a slight attack of\nnerves in the stock markets, and then the whole thing seemed in a fair\nway towards being settled. Then the negotiations over the affair began\nto drag unduly, and there was a further flutter of nervousness in the\nmoney world. And then one morning the papers reported a highly menacing\nspeech by one of the German Ministers, and the situation began to look\nblack indeed. 'He will be disavowed,' every one said over here", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", ", but in\nless than twenty-four hours those who knew anything knew that the crisis\nwas on us--only their knowledge came too late. 'War between two such\ncivilised and enlightened nations is an impossibility,' one of our\nleaders of public opinion had declared on the Saturday; by the following\nFriday the war had indeed become an impossibility, because we could no\nlonger carry it on. It burst on us with calculated suddenness, and we\nwere just not enough, everywhere where the pressure came. Our ships were\ngood against their ships, our", "under their\ncatastrophe. Surrounded as he was now with a babble of tongues and\nshrill mechanical repartee, Yeovil's mind went back to the book and its\naccount of a theatre audience in the Turkish days of Bulgaria, with its\nlight and laughing crowd of critics and spectators. Bulgaria! The\nthought of that determined little nation came to him with a sharp sense\nof irony. There was a people who had not thought it beneath the dignity\nof their manhood to learn the trade and discipline of arms. They", "younger generation of Britons may grow up in\nhereditary hatred, repulsing all our overtures, forgetting nothing and\nforgiving nothing, waiting and watching for the time when some weakness\nassails us, when some crisis entangles us, when we cannot be everywhere\nat once. Then our work will be imperilled, perhaps undone. There lies\nthe danger, there lies the hope, the younger generation.\"\n\n\"There is another danger,\" said the banker, after he had pondered over\nvon Kwarl's remarks for a moment or two amid", ", perhaps, but not in practice. The\ndanger has always been for the weak, dismembered nation. Think you a\nmoment, has the enfeebled scattered British Empire overseas no undefended\nterritories that are a temptation to her neighbours? Has Japan nothing\nto glean where we have harvested? Are there no North American\npossessions which might slip into other keeping? Has Russia herself no\ntraditional temptations beyond the Oxus? Mind you, we are not making the\nmistake Napoleon made, when he forced all Europe to", "; now he was\nanxious to learn what unprejudiced foreigners thought of the catastrophe\nand the causes which had led up to it.\n\n\"It is a strange spectacle, a wonder, is it not so?\" resumed the other,\n\"a great nation such as this was, one of the greatest nations in modern\ntimes, or of any time, carrying its flag and its language into all parts\nof the world, and now, after one short campaign, it is--\"\n\nAnd he shrugged his shoulders many times and made clucking noises at the\nro", "was not due to appear till late in the list) the theatre was crowded with\na throng of chattering, expectant human beings; it seemed as though every\none had come early to see every one else arrive. As a matter of fact it\nwas the rumour-heralded arrival of one personage in particular that had\ndrawn people early to their seats and given a double edge to the\nexpectancy of the moment.\n\nAt first sight and first hearing the bulk of the audience seemed to\ncomprise representatives of the chief European races in well-distributed\nproportions, but", "ttle its Baltic trade at five hours' notice.\nFrance and Holland are not inclined to provoke our hostility; they would\nhave everything to lose by such a course.\"\n\n\"There are other forces in the world that might be arrayed against us,\"\nargued the banker; \"the United States, Japan, Italy, they all have\nnavies.\"\n\n\"Does the teaching of history show you that it is the strong Power, armed\nand ready, that has to suffer from the hostility of the world?\" asked von\nKwarl. \"As far as sentiment goes", "of of his voice, like a hen calling to a brood of roving chickens.\n\n\"They grew soft,\" he resumed; \"great world-commerce brings great luxury,\nand luxury brings softness. They had everything to warn them, things\nhappening in their own time and before their eyes, and they would not be\nwarned. They had seen, in one generation, the rise of the military and\nnaval power of the Japanese, a brown-skinned race living in some island\nrice fields in a tropical sea, a people one thought of in connection with\n", "dilettanti. It was an insular lack of insight that worked the\nmischief, or some of the mischief. We, in Hungary, we live too much\ncheek by jowl with our racial neighbours to have many illusions about\nthem. Austrians, Roumanians, Serbs, Italians, Czechs, we know what they\nthink of us, and we know what to think of them, we know what we want in\nthe world, and we know what they want; that knowledge does not send us\nflying at each other", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "man; \"we mean business this\ntime. The last war wasn't a war, it was a snap. We weren't prepared and\nthey were. That won't happen again, bless you. I know what I'm talking\nabout. I go up and down the country, and I hear what people are saying.\"\n\nYeovil privately doubted if he ever heard anything but his own opinions.\n\n\"It stands to reason,\" continued the fisherman, \"that a highly civilised\nrace like ours, with the record that we've had", "be for him or against\nhim. We threaten no world aggressions, we are satiated where he was\ninsatiable. We have cast down one overshadowing Power from the face of\nthe world, because it stood in our way, but we have made no attempt to\nspread our branches over all the space that it covered. We have not\ntried to set up a tributary Canadian republic or to partition South\nAfrica; we have dreamed no dream of making ourselves Lords of Hindostan.\nOn the contrary, we have given proof of our friendly intentions", "ide against the hostility of the conquered nation? A people with a\ngreat tradition behind them and the ruling instinct strongly developed,\nwon't sit with their eyes closed and their hands folded while you carry\non the process of Germanisation. What will keep them quiet?\"\n\n\"The hopelessness of the situation. For centuries Britain has ruled the\nseas, and been able to dictate to half the world in consequence; then she\nlet slip the mastery of the seas, as something too costly and onerous to\nkeep up, something which aroused too much", "uced perhaps by an earlier apprenticeship to the reading of Nineteenth\nCentury articles, in which the possible political and racial developments\nof various countries were examined and discussed and put away in the\npigeon-holes of probable happenings. She had sufficient knowledge of\npolitical history to know that such a development might possibly come to\npass, she had not sufficient insight into actual conditions to know that\nthe possibility was as remote as that of armed resistance. And the role\nwhich she saw herself playing was that of a deft and courtly political\nintriguer, rallying the" ], [ "good will and\ngood nature which disarmed strangers and recent acquaintances; on getting\nto know her better they hastily re-armed themselves. Some one had once\naptly described her as a hedgehog with the protective mimicry of a\npuffball. If there was an awkward remark to be made at an inconvenient\nmoment before undesired listeners, Joan invariably made it, and when the\noccasion did not present itself she was usually capable of creating it.\nShe was not without a certain popularity, the sort of popularity that a\ndashing highwayman", "he possessed there lurked a rankling bitterness against the hard\nthings of life, or a scrap of gratitude towards the one or two friends\nwho had helped him disinterestedly, but his most intimate associates\ncould not have guessed at the existence of such feelings. Tony Luton was\njust a merry-eyed dancing faun, whom Fate had surrounded with streets\ninstead of woods, and it would have been in the highest degree inartistic\nto have sounded him for a heart or a heartache.\n\nThe dancing of the faun took one day a livel", "floors below,\nwhose nimbleness and audacity were as precious to him as the forwardness\nof the birds is to a skilled gun on a grouse moor. Once every day Wotan\ncame marching in stately fashion across the polished floor, halted mid-\nway to resume an unfinished toilet operation, and then proceeded to pay\nhis leisurely respects to his friend von Kwarl. The latter was said to\nbe prouder of this daily demonstration of esteem than of his many coveted\norders of merit. ", "? Isn't he?\" exclaimed a young American\nwoman, with an enthusiasm to which Lady Peach entirely failed to respond.\nShe had intended following up her story with the account of another\ntragedy of a similar nature that had befallen her three years ago in\nArgyllshire, and now the opportunity had gone. She turned morosely to\nthe consolations of a tongue salad.\n\nAt the centre table the excellent von Tolb led a chorus of congratulation\nand compliment, to which Gorla listened with an air of polite detachment,\nmuch", "-hunting. Already he felt that he had\nbeen doing nothing different from this all his life. His foreign\ntravels, his illness, his recent weeks in London, they were part of a\ntapestried background that had very slight and distant connection with\nhis present existence. Of the future he tried to think with greater\nenergy and determination. For this winter, at any rate, he would hunt\nand do a little shooting, entertain a few of his neighbours and make\nfriends with any congenial fellow-sportsmen who might be within reach.\nNext", "servants trotting in\nand out all the time. Rather a good idea of mine, wasn't it?\"\n\nRonnie, after looking anxiously to see that the word \"picnic\" did not\nportend tongue sandwiches and biscuits, gave the idea his blessing.\n\n\"What is young Storre's profession?\" some one had once asked concerning\nhim.\n\n\"He has a great many friends who have independent incomes,\" had been the\nanswer.\n\nThe meal was begun in an appreciative silence; a picnic in which three\nkinds", ", were always to\nbe found there early in the forenoon, and the honoured guest for whom\nthese preparations were made usually arrived on the scene shortly after\neleven o'clock. For an hour or so he would read and silently digest the\ncontents of his two newspapers, and then at the first sign of flagging\ninterest on his part, another of the cafe's regular customers would march\nacross the floor, exchange a word or two on the affairs of the day, and\nbe bidden with a wave of the hand into the opposite seat. A waiter would\n", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "room and a lively black kitten helped\nhim to dress, and incidentally helped him to require a new tassel to the\ncord of his dressing-gown. As he finished his toilet and the kitten\nfinished its sixth and most notable attack on the tassel a ring was heard\nat the front door, and a moment later a loud, hearty, and unmistakably\nhungry voice resounded in the hall. It belonged to the local doctor, who\nhad also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the\nev", "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw", "meet with in a day's journey. Early in life, almost before he was\nin his teens, Fritz von Kwarl had made up his mind to accept the world as\nit was, and to that philosophical resolution, steadfastly adhered to, he\nattributed his excellent digestion and his unruffled happiness. Perhaps\nhe confused cause and effect; the excellent digestion may have been\nresponsible for at least some of the philosophical serenity.\n\nHe was a bachelor of the type that is called confirmed, and which might\nbetter be", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "Several of his friends and acquaintances shared with\nhim the distinction of having achieved the Black Eagle, but not one of\nthem had ever succeeded in obtaining the slightest recognition of their\nexistence from Wotan.\n\nThe daily greeting had been exchanged and the proud grey beast had\nmarched away to the music of a slumberous purr. The Kreuz Zeitung and\nthe Times underwent a final scrutiny and were pushed aside, and von Kwarl\nglanced aimlessly out at the July sunshine bathing the walls and windows\nof the Picc", "one of the\nsuccesses of the evening was Leutnant von Gabelroth, as George\nWashington, with Joan Mardle as his shadow, typifying Inconvenient\nCandour. He put her down officially as Truthfulness, but every one had\nheard the other version.\"\n\n\"Good for the Gabelroth, though he does belong to the invading Horde;\nit's not often that any one scores off Joan.\"\n\n\"Another blaze of magnificence was the loud-voiced Bessimer woman, as the\nGoddess Jun", "educated, and of course it helps him to\nearn a living.\"\n\n\"And the society of the place?\" asked the Frenchman.\n\nHis hostess laughed.\n\n\"I must admit it has to be looked for with a strong pair of\nfield-glasses,\" she said; \"it is almost as difficult to get a good bridge\nfour together as it would have been to get up a tennis tournament or a\nsubscription dance in our particular corner of England. One has to\nignore distances and forget fatigue if one wants to be gregarious even on\na limited scale. ", "fascination of his present\nsurroundings. The slow, quiet comfort and interest of country life\nappealed with enervating force to the man whom death had half conquered.\nThe pleasures of the chase, well-provided for in every detail, and\ndovetailed in with the assured luxury of a well-ordered, well-staffed\nestablishment, were exactly what he wanted and exactly what his life down\nhere afforded him. He was experiencing, too, that passionate recurring\ndevotion to an old loved scene that comes at times to men who have\ntr", "yards, and then turned down\ninto the smoking-room of a cheap tea-shop, where he judged that the\nflourishing foreign element would be less conspicuously represented.\nQuiet-voiced, smooth-headed youths, from neighbouring shops and wholesale\nhouses, sat drinking tea and munching pastry, some of them reading,\nothers making a fitful rattle with dominoes on the marble-topped tables.\nA clean, wholesome smell of tea and coffee made itself felt through the\nclouds of cigarette smoke; cleanliness and list", "inspection, picking up the stray remaining\nmorsels of the evening meal, and then, with much scrambling and\nsquawking, sought the places on the roosting-pole that they thought\nshould belong to them. Labourers working in yard and field began to turn\ntheir thoughts homeward or tavernward as the case might be. And through\nthe cold squelching slush of a water-logged meadow a weary, bedraggled,\nbut unbeaten fox stiffly picked his way, climbed a high bramble-", "was not due to appear till late in the list) the theatre was crowded with\na throng of chattering, expectant human beings; it seemed as though every\none had come early to see every one else arrive. As a matter of fact it\nwas the rumour-heralded arrival of one personage in particular that had\ndrawn people early to their seats and given a double edge to the\nexpectancy of the moment.\n\nAt first sight and first hearing the bulk of the audience seemed to\ncomprise representatives of the chief European races in well-distributed\nproportions, but", "some joking remark, answering some question of interest, learning\nsomething of hunting ways and traditions in von Gabelroth's own country.\nAnd when the car turned in at the gate of the hunting lodge and drew up\nat the steps the laws of hospitality demanded that Yeovil should ask his\nbenefactor of the road to come in for a few minutes and drink something a\nlittle better than the wayside inn had been able to supply. The young\nofficer spent the best part of a half hour in Yeovil's snuggery,\nexamining and discussing" ], [ "a new light stole like magic\nover the brown landscape. And, as if they had timed their arrival to\nthat exact moment of sunburst, three brown-faced boys appeared under the\nstraight, bare pole. A cord shivered and flapped, and something ran\nswiftly up into the air, and swung out in the breeze that blew across the\nhills--a blue flag with red and white crosses. The three boys bared\ntheir heads and the small girl on the verandah steps stood rigidly to\nattention. Far away down the hill,", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw", "inspection, picking up the stray remaining\nmorsels of the evening meal, and then, with much scrambling and\nsquawking, sought the places on the roosting-pole that they thought\nshould belong to them. Labourers working in yard and field began to turn\ntheir thoughts homeward or tavernward as the case might be. And through\nthe cold squelching slush of a water-logged meadow a weary, bedraggled,\nbut unbeaten fox stiffly picked his way, climbed a high bramble-", "fire, the pleasant succession of well-cooked dishes and\nmellow wines. The world narrowed itself down again to a warm, drowsy-\nscented dining-room, with a productive hinterland of kitchen and cellar\nbeyond it, and beyond that an important outer world of loose box and\nharness-room and stable-yard; further again a dark hushed region where\npheasants roosted and owls flitted and foxes prowled.\n\nYeovil sat and listened to story after story of the men and women and\n", "alluring\nneighbourhood of the farm kitchen. Away by the banks of some rushing\nmill-stream, in a setting of copse and cornfield, a village might be\nguessed at, just a hint of red roof, grey wreathed chimney and old church\ntower as seen from the windows of the passing train, and over it all\nbrooded a happy, settled calm, like the dreaming murmur of a trout-stream\nand the far-away cawing of rooks.\n\nIt was a land where it seemed as if it must be always summer", "ham, there was nothing for it but to\nhope that this was a false, groundless rumour, that had somehow crept to\nthe confines of civilisation. In my saner balanced moments it was\npossible to disbelieve it, but if you have ever suffered from delirium\nyou will know what raging torments of agony I went through in the nights,\nhow my brain fought and refought that rumoured disaster.\"\n\nThe doctor gave a murmur of sympathetic understanding.\n\n\"Then,\" continued Yeovil, \"I reached the small Siberian town", "Manchester,\nHamburg, Bremen, Bristol, and so forth. Below these came shelves on\nwhich stood a wonderful array of stone beer-mugs, each decorated with\nsome fantastic device or motto, and most of them pertaining individually\nand sacredly to some regular and unfailing customer. In one particular\ncorner of the highest shelf, greatly at his ease and in nowise to be\ndisturbed, slept Wotan, the huge grey house-cat, dreaming doubtless of\ncertain nimble and audacious mice down in the cellar three", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "horses of the neighbourhood; even the foxes seemed to have a personality,\nsome of them, and a personal history. It was a little like Hans\nAndersen, he decided, and a little like the Reminiscences of an Irish\nR.M., and perhaps just a little like some of the more probable adventures\nof Baron Munchausen. The newer stories were evidently true to the\nsmallest detail, the earlier ones had altered somewhat in repetition, as\nplants and animals vary under domestication.\n\nAnd all the time there was one topic", "the club, an elephant, whale,\nand eagle, typifying the three armed forces of the State, by land and sea\nand air; the eagle bore in its beak a scroll with the proud legend: \"The\nlast am I, but not the least.\"\n\nTo the eastward of this gaily-humming hive the long shuttered front of a\ndeserted ducal mansion struck a note of protest and mourning amid the\nnoise and whirl and colour of a seemingly uncaring city. On the other\nside of the roadway, on the", "and\ngenerally afternoon, a land where bees hummed among the wild thyme and in\nthe flower beds of cottage gardens, where the harvest-mice rustled amid\nthe corn and nettles, and the mill-race flowed cool and silent through\nwater-weeds and dark tunnelled sluices, and made soft droning music with\nthe wooden mill-wheel. And the music carried with it the wording of old\nundying rhymes, and sang of the jolly, uncaring, uncared-for miller, of\nthe farmer who went riding upon", "ly out of his saddle, and in answer\nto the loud rattle of his hunting crop on the open door the innkeeper and\ntwo or three hangers-on hurried out to attend to the wants of man and\nbeast. Flour and water for the horse and something hot for himself were\nYeovil's first concern, and then he began to clamour for geographical\ninformation. He was rather dismayed to find that the cumulative opinions\nof those whom he consulted, and of several others who joined unbidden in\nthe discussion, placed his destination at nothing near", "his grey mare, of the mouse who lived\nbeneath the merry mill-pin, of the sweet music on yonder green hill and\nthe dancers all in yellow--the songs and fancies of a lingering olden\ntime, when men took life as children take a long summer day, and went to\nbed at last with a simple trust in something they could not have\nexplained.\n\nYeovil watched the passing landscape with the intent hungry eyes of a man\nwho revisits a scene that holds high place in his affections. His\nimagination raced even quick", "\nof low growing beeches and dark pines. Torywood was not a stately,\nreposeful-looking house; it lay amid the sleepy landscape like a couched\nwatchdog with pricked ears and wakeful eyes. Built somewhere about the\nlast years of Dutch William's reign, it had been a centre, ever since,\nfor the political life of the countryside; a storm centre of discontent\nor a rallying ground for the well affected, as the circumstances of the\nday might entail. On the stone-flagged terrace in front of the house", "that was never touched on. Of half\nthe families mentioned it was necessary to add the qualifying information\nthat they \"used to live\" at such and such a place; the countryside knew\nthem no longer. Their properties were for sale or had already passed\ninto the hands of strangers. But neither man cared to allude to the\ngrinning shadow that sat at the feast and sent an icy chill now and again\nthrough the cheeriest jest and most jovial story. The brisk run with the\nhounds that day had stirred and warmed their pulses;", "a young man, cantering into view\nround a corner of the dusty road, removed his hat in loyal salutation.\n\n\"That is why we live out here,\" said the Englishwoman quietly.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII: THE EVENT OF THE SEASON\n\n\nIn the first swelter room of the new Osmanli Baths in Cork Street four or\nfive recumbent individuals, in a state of moist nudity and\nself-respecting inertia, were smoking cigarettes or making occasional\npretence of reading damp newspapers. A glass", "ening meal with the entertainment of his inexhaustible store of\nsporting and social reminiscences. He knew the countryside and the\ncountryfolk inside out, and he was a living unwritten chronicle of the\nEast Wessex hunt. His conversation seemed exactly the right\naccompaniment to the meal; his stories brought glimpses of wet hedgerows,\nstiff ploughlands, leafy spinneys and muddy brooks in among the rich old\nWorcester and Georgian silver of the dinner service, the glow and crackle\nof the wood", ", and filled with a lurking, moving life of which one knew nothing\nbeyond the sense that it was there. There, and very near. If there had\nbeen wood-gods and wicked-eyed fauns in the sunlit groves and hill sides\nof old Hellas, surely there were watchful, living things of kindred mould\nin this dusk-hidden wilderness of field and hedge and coppice.\n\nIt was Yeovil's third or fourth day with the hounds, without taking into\naccount a couple of mornings' cub", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to" ], [ "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "help to denationalise London. Berlin\nwill probably climb back to some of its old austerity and simplicity, a\nworld-ruling city with a great sense of its position and its\nresponsibilities, while London will become more and more the centre of\nwhat these people understand by life.\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience and disgust.\n\n\"I know, I know,\" said the doctor, sympathetically; \"life and enjoyment\nmean to you the howl of a wolf in a forest, the call of a wild swan on\nthe frozen t", "\nThe journey seemed suddenly to have recommenced; he was under his own\nroof, his servants were waiting on him, his familiar possessions were in\nevidence around him, but the sense of being at home had vanished. It was\nas though he had arrived at some wayside hotel, and been asked to\nregister his name and status and destination. Other things of disgust\nand irritation he had foreseen in the London he was coming to--the\nalterations on stamps and coinage, the intrusive Teuton element, the\nalien uniforms cropping up everywhere, the", "colonial centre or even in a country town in\nEngland. India I couldn't stand. London is not merely a home to me, it\nis a world, and it happens to be just the world that suits me and that I\nam suited to. The German occupation, or whatever one likes to call it,\nis a calamity, but it's not like a molten deluge from Vesuvius that need\nsend us all scuttling away from another Pompeii. Of course,\" she added,\n\"there are things that jar horribly on one, even", ", as you say,\" replied Yeovil; then he added the\nquestion, \"Are you German?\"\n\n\"No, Hungarian,\" said the other; \"and you, you are English?\" he asked.\n\n\"I have been much in England, but I am from Russia,\" said Yeovil,\npurposely misleading his companion on the subject of his nationality in\norder to induce him to talk with greater freedom on a delicate topic.\nWhile living among foreigners in a foreign land he had shrunk from\nhearing his country's disaster discussed, or even alluded to", "the King of Prussia, Great Britain, and Ireland, Emperor of\nthe West. It was the most imposing display that Londoners had seen since\nthe catastrophe.\n\nSlowly, grandly, with thunder of music and beat of hoofs, the procession\npassed through the crowd, across the sward towards the saluting base,\nslowly the eagle standard, charged with the leopards, lion and harp of\nthe conquered kingdoms, rose mast-high on the flag-staff and fluttered in\nthe breeze, slowly and with", "; now he was\nanxious to learn what unprejudiced foreigners thought of the catastrophe\nand the causes which had led up to it.\n\n\"It is a strange spectacle, a wonder, is it not so?\" resumed the other,\n\"a great nation such as this was, one of the greatest nations in modern\ntimes, or of any time, carrying its flag and its language into all parts\nof the world, and now, after one short campaign, it is--\"\n\nAnd he shrugged his shoulders many times and made clucking noises at the\nro", "able\nit is.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Yeovil, \"and I suppose, as a matter of fact, a good\nmany of your clients belong to the conquering race.\"\n\n\"Well, you see, they are the people who have got the money,\" said\nHerlton; \"I don't mean to say that the invading Germans are usually\npeople of wealth, but while they live over here they escape the crushing\ntaxation that falls on the British-born subject. They serve their\ncountry as soldiers, and we have to serve it in garrison money,", "English name of the street. A\nnotice directing the public to the neighbouring swimming baths was also\nwritten up in both languages. London had become a bi-lingual city, even\nas Warsaw.\n\nThe cab threaded its way swiftly along Buckingham Palace Road towards the\nMall. As they passed the long front of the Palace the traveller turned\nhis head resolutely away, that he might not see the alien uniforms at the\ngates and the eagle standard flapping in the sunlight. The taxi driver,\nwho seemed to have combative instincts", "hatefulness the brain recognised the necessity. The great\nfighting-machines that the Germans had built up and maintained, on land,\non sea, and in air, were three solid crushing facts that demonstrated the\nhopelessness of any immediate thought of revolt. Twenty years hence,\nwhen the present generation was older and greyer, the chances of armed\nrevolt would probably be equally hopeless, equally remote-seeming. But\nin the meantime something could have been effected in another way. The\nconquerors might partially Germanise London, but, on", "services which were rendered by his subjects German-born. The British\nsubjects of the Crown were to remain a people consecrated to peaceful\npursuits, to commerce and trade and husbandry. The defence of their\ncoasts and shipping and the maintenance of order and general safety would\nbe guaranteed by a garrison of German troops, with the co-operation of\nthe Imperial war fleet. German-born subjects residing temporarily or\npermanently in the British Isles would come under the same laws\nrespecting compulsory military service as their fellow-subjects of German\nblo", "er than the train, following winding roads\nand twisting valleys into unseen distances, picturing farms and hamlets,\nhills and hollows, clattering inn yards and sleepy woodlands.\n\n\"A beautiful country,\" said his only fellow-traveller, who was also\ngazing at the fleeting landscape; \"surely a country worth fighting for.\"\n\nHe spoke in fairly correct English, but he was unmistakably a foreigner;\none could have allotted him with some certainty to the Eastern half of\nEurope.\n\n\"A beautiful country", "for leading the whole\nworld, is not going to be held under for long by a lot of damned sausage-\neating Germans. Don't you believe it! I know what I'm talking about.\nI've travelled about the world a bit.\"\n\nYeovil shrewdly suspected that the world travels amounted to nothing more\nthan a trip to the United States and perhaps the Channel Islands, with,\npossibly, a week or fortnight in Paris.\n\n\"It isn't the past we've got to think of, it's the", "towards\nour neighbours. We backed France up the other day in her squabble with\nSpain over the Moroccan boundaries, and proclaimed our opinion that the\nRepublic had as indisputable a mission on the North Africa coast as we\nhave in the North Sea. That is not the action or the language of\naggression. No,\" continued von Kwarl, after a moment's silence, \"the\nworld may fear us and dislike us, but, for the present at any rate, there\nwill be no leagues against us. No, there", "had fallen helpless into alien hands\nbefore her tired eyes. Her eldest son lived invalid-wise in the South of\nFrance, her second son lay fathoms deep in the North Sea, with the hulk\nof a broken battleship for a burial-vault; and now the grand-daughter was\nstanding here in the limelight, bowing her thanks for the patronage and\nfavour meted out to her by this cosmopolitan company, with its lavish\nsprinkling of the uniforms of an alien army.\n\nProminent among the flowers at", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the", "aded and held off by the doctors' skill, might exact a compromise, and\nthat only part of the man would go free to the West.\n\nAnd now he began to realise how little of mental and physical energy he\ncould count on. His own country had never seemed in his eyes so comfort-\nyielding and to-be-desired as it did now when it had passed into alien\nkeeping and become a prison land as much as a homeland. London with its\nthin mockery of a Season, and its chattering horde of empty-hearted self-\nseekers", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "said Lady Bailquist, again\nconsulting her programme. \"The King of Wurtemberg, and two of the\nBavarian royal Princes, an Abyssinian Envoy who is over here--he will\nlend a touch of picturesque barbarism to the scene--the general\ncommanding the London district and a whole lot of other military bigwigs,\nand the Austrian, Italian and Roumanian military attaches.\"\n\nShe reeled off the imposing list of notables with an air of quiet\nsatisfaction. Sir Leonard made mental", "jealousy and uneasiness in\nothers, and now the seas rule her. Every wave that breaks on her shore\nrattles the keys of her prison. I am no fire-eater, Herr Rebinok, but I\nconfess that when I am at Dover, say, or Southampton, and see those dark\nblots on the sea and those grey specks in the sky, our battleships and\ncruisers and aircraft, and realise what they mean to us my heart beats\njust a little quicker. If every German was flung out of England" ], [ "man; \"we mean business this\ntime. The last war wasn't a war, it was a snap. We weren't prepared and\nthey were. That won't happen again, bless you. I know what I'm talking\nabout. I go up and down the country, and I hear what people are saying.\"\n\nYeovil privately doubted if he ever heard anything but his own opinions.\n\n\"It stands to reason,\" continued the fisherman, \"that a highly civilised\nrace like ours, with the record that we've had", "voting power was in their hands. They had not the leisure, however,\nto sit down and think clearly what the danger was; their own industrial\nwarfare was more real to them than anything that was threatening from the\nnation that they only knew from samples of German clerks and German\nwaiters.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" said Cicely, \"as regards the hunting, there is no Civil\nWar or national war raging just now, and there is no immediate likelihood\nof one. A good many hunting seasons will have to come and go before we\ncan think of a war", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "uced perhaps by an earlier apprenticeship to the reading of Nineteenth\nCentury articles, in which the possible political and racial developments\nof various countries were examined and discussed and put away in the\npigeon-holes of probable happenings. She had sufficient knowledge of\npolitical history to know that such a development might possibly come to\npass, she had not sufficient insight into actual conditions to know that\nthe possibility was as remote as that of armed resistance. And the role\nwhich she saw herself playing was that of a deft and courtly political\nintriguer, rallying the", "of of his voice, like a hen calling to a brood of roving chickens.\n\n\"They grew soft,\" he resumed; \"great world-commerce brings great luxury,\nand luxury brings softness. They had everything to warn them, things\nhappening in their own time and before their eyes, and they would not be\nwarned. They had seen, in one generation, the rise of the military and\nnaval power of the Japanese, a brown-skinned race living in some island\nrice fields in a tropical sea, a people one thought of in connection with\n", "the\nnew war taxation that the people are finding so burdensome.\"\n\n\"One certainly cannot say that they have not had attractions held out to\nthem,\" said Sir Leonard.\n\n\"It is a special effort,\" said Lady Bailquist; \"it is worth making an\neffort for. They are going to be the Janissaries of the Empire; the\nyounger generation knocking at the doors of progress, and thrusting back\nthe bars and bolts of old racial prejudices. I tell you, Sir Leonard, it\nwill be an historic moment", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "\"Rather a fine epitaph to have on one's tombstone,\" he said, \"especially\nif the tombstone were in some crowded city graveyard. I suppose I am a\nman of God, but I don't think I could be called a man of peace.\"\n\nLooking at the strong young face, with its suggestion of a fighting prior\nof bygone days more marked than ever, Yeovil mentally agreed that he\ncould not.\n\n\"I have learned one thing in life,\" continued the young man, \"and that is\nthat peace is not for this world", "of universal brotherhood which did\nnot blunt a single Teuton bayonet when the hour came. I suppose in time\nparty divisions will reassert themselves in some form or other; there\nwill be a Socialist Party, and the mercantile and manufacturing interests\nwill evolve a sort of bourgeoise party, and the different religious\nbodies will try to get themselves represented--\"\n\nYeovil made a movement of impatience.\n\n\"All these things that you forecast,\" he said, \"must take time,\nconsiderable time; is this nightmare, then", "for leading the whole\nworld, is not going to be held under for long by a lot of damned sausage-\neating Germans. Don't you believe it! I know what I'm talking about.\nI've travelled about the world a bit.\"\n\nYeovil shrewdly suspected that the world travels amounted to nothing more\nthan a trip to the United States and perhaps the Channel Islands, with,\npossibly, a week or fortnight in Paris.\n\n\"It isn't the past we've got to think of, it's the", "doctor, \"with a wholly unimportant disagreement\nabout some frontier business in East Africa; there was a slight attack of\nnerves in the stock markets, and then the whole thing seemed in a fair\nway towards being settled. Then the negotiations over the affair began\nto drag unduly, and there was a further flutter of nervousness in the\nmoney world. And then one morning the papers reported a highly menacing\nspeech by one of the German Ministers, and the situation began to look\nblack indeed. 'He will be disavowed,' every one said over here", "\nthese were blows over the heart, and that it was a matter of moments\nbefore we were counted out. One might liken the whole affair to a snap\ncheckmate early in a game of chess; one side had thought out the moves,\nand brought the requisite pieces into play, the other side was hampered\nand helpless, with its resources unavailable, its strategy discounted in\nadvance. That, in a nutshell, is the history of the war.\"\n\nYeovil was silent for a moment or two, then he asked:\n\n\"", ". I bought a\nnewspaper as soon as I landed, and I read it in the train coming up. I\nread things that puzzled and disgusted me. There were announcements of\nconcerts and plays and first-nights and private views; there were even\nsmall dances. There were advertisements of house-boats and week-end\ncottages and string bands for garden parties. It struck me that it was\nrather like merrymaking with a dead body lying in the house.\"\n\n\"Yeovil,\" said the doctor, \"you", ". Peace is what God gives us when He\ntakes us into His rest. Beat your sword into a ploughshare if you like,\nbut beat your enemy into smithereens first.\"\n\nA long-drawn cry, repeated again and again, detached itself from the\nthrob and hoot and whir of the street traffic.\n\n\"Speshul! Military service, spesh-ul!\"\n\nThe young clergyman sprang from his seat and went up the staircase in a\nsuccession of bounds, causing the domino players and novelette readers", "and gurgling on the table, and the thrumming music of a balalaika\norchestra coming up from the restaurant below; the next coherent thing I\ncan remember was weeks and weeks later, discussing in an impersonal\ndetached manner whether I was strong enough to stand the fatigue of the\nlong railway journey to Finland.\n\n\"Since then, Holham, I have been encouraged to keep my mind as much off\nthe war and public affairs as possible, and I have been glad to do so. I\nknew the worst and there was no particular use in deepening my", "suddenness.\"\n\n\"He was somewhere in Russia when the war broke out, wasn't he?\" said\nRonnie.\n\n\"Somewhere in the wilds of Eastern Siberia, shooting and bird collecting,\nmiles away from a railway or telegraph line, and it was all over before\nhe knew anything about it; it didn't last very long, when you come to\nthink of it. He was due home somewhere about that time, and when the\nweeks slipped by without my hearing from him, I quite thought he'd been\ncaptured in the Balt", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", ", but in\nless than twenty-four hours those who knew anything knew that the crisis\nwas on us--only their knowledge came too late. 'War between two such\ncivilised and enlightened nations is an impossibility,' one of our\nleaders of public opinion had declared on the Saturday; by the following\nFriday the war had indeed become an impossibility, because we could no\nlonger carry it on. It burst on us with calculated suddenness, and we\nwere just not enough, everywhere where the pressure came. Our ships were\ngood against their ships, our", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the" ], [ "be polite and considerate in their dealings with\nher, that people who usually held themselves aloof should have to be\ngracious and amiable, that the self-assured should have to be just a\nlittle humble and anxious where she was concerned, these things of course\nshe intended to happen; she was a woman. But, she told herself, she\nintended a great deal more than that when she traced the pattern for her\nscheme of social influence. In her heart she detested the German\noccupation as a hateful necessity, but while her heart registered the\n", "point, however, she was anxious to give her husband the impression of\nhaving been consulted, and to put her victory as far as possible on the\nfooting of a compromise. It was also rather a relief to be able to\ndiscuss the matter out of range of Joan's disconcerting tongue and\nobservant eyes.\n\n\"I hope you are not really annoyed about this silly supper-party,\" she\nsaid on the morning before the much-talked-of first night. \"I had\npledged myself to give it, so I couldn't back", "'re simply furious about it,\" answered Joan; \"the idea of a\ndaughter of the house of Mustelford prancing and twisting about the stage\nfor Prussian officers and Hamburg Jews to gaze at is a dreadful cup of\nhumiliation for them. It's unfortunate, of course, that they should feel\nso acutely about it, but still one can understand their point of view.\"\n\n\"I don't see what other point of view they could possibly take,\" said\nYeovil sharply; \"if Gorla thinks that the necessities of art, or her", "to ensure against a change of plans\non Cicely's part.\n\n\"Gorla is a great friend of mine,\" said Cicely, trying to talk as if the\nconversation had taken a perfectly indifferent turn; \"also I think she\ndeserves a little encouragement after the hard work she has been through.\nI thought it would be doing her a kindness to arrange a supper party for\nher on her first night.\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence. Yeovil said nothing, and Joan understood\nthe value of being occasionally tongue-tied.\n", "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw", "Shalem to Herr von Kwarl, whom she was conveying in her electric brougham\nto Cicely Yeovil's supper party; \"an important evening,\" she added,\nchoosing her adjectives with deliberation. \"It should give pleasure in\nhigh quarters, should it not?\"\n\nAnd she turned her observant eyes on the impassive face of her companion.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" he replied with deliberation and meaning, \"it has given\npleasure. It is an evening to be remembered.\"\n\nThe gracious lady suppressed", "had been her goal, the death\nor victory of old heroic challenge, for she had always dreamed to die\nfighting to the last; death or victory--and the gods had given her\nneither, only the bitterness of a defeat that could not be measured in\nwords, and the weariness of a life that had outlived happiness or hope.\nSuch was Eleanor, Dowager Lady Greymarten, a shadow amid the young red-\nblooded life at Torywood, but a shadow that was too real to die, a shadow\nthat was stronger than the substance", "going to do a seemingly unwifely thing. I'm going to go out\nand leave you alone with an old friend. Doctor Holham is coming in to\ndrink coffee and smoke with you. I arranged this because I knew it was\nwhat you would like. Men can talk these things over best by themselves,\nand Holham can tell you everything that happened--since you went away. It\nwill be a dreary story, I'm afraid, but you will want to hear it all. It\nwas a nightmare time, but now one sees it in a calmer", "cancel the arrangement he had\nunwittingly entered into, and he was constrained to put himself under\nobligation to the young officer with the best grace he could muster.\nAfter all, he reflected, he had met him under his own roof as his wife's\nguest. He paid his reckoning to mine host, tipped the stable lad who had\nhelped him with his horse, and took his place beside von Gabelroth in the\ncar.\n\nAs they glided along the dark roadway and the young German reeled off a\nstring of comments on the", "'t she?\"\n\n\"The one that took my fancy most was the one in the Standard,\" said\nYeovil, picking up that paper from a table by his side and searching its\ncolumns for the notice in question. \"'The wolves which appeared earlier\nin the evening's entertainment are, the programme assures us, trained\nentirely by kindness. It would have been a further kindness, at any rate\nto the audience, if some of the training, which the wolves doubtless do\nnot appreciate at its proper value, had been expended on Miss\nMustelford", "of such a measure enfuriate\nthem against us? Remember, they have made great sacrifices to avoid the\nburden of military service.\"\n\n\"Dear God,\" exclaimed Herr von Kwarl, \"as you say, they have made\nsacrifices on that altar!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII: THE LURE\n\n\nCicely had successfully insisted on having her own way concerning the\nprojected supper-party; Yeovil had said nothing further in opposition to\nit, whatever his feelings on the subject might be. Having gained her\n", "one of the\nsuccesses of the evening was Leutnant von Gabelroth, as George\nWashington, with Joan Mardle as his shadow, typifying Inconvenient\nCandour. He put her down officially as Truthfulness, but every one had\nheard the other version.\"\n\n\"Good for the Gabelroth, though he does belong to the invading Horde;\nit's not often that any one scores off Joan.\"\n\n\"Another blaze of magnificence was the loud-voiced Bessimer woman, as the\nGoddess Jun", "I was just\ndying to see the returned traveller. Of course, I know perfectly well\nthat neither of you want me, when you haven't seen each other for so long\nand must have heaps and heaps to say to one another, but I thought I\nwould risk the odium of being the third person on an occasion when two\nare company and three are a nuisance. Wasn't it brave of me?\"\n\nShe spoke in full knowledge of the fact that the luncheon party would not\nin any case have been restricted to Yeovil and his", "her toilet. Already quite a considerable\nsection of the audience knew her by name, and the frequency with which\nshe graciously nodded towards various quarters of the house suggested the\npresence of a great many personal acquaintances. She had attained to\nthat desirable feminine altitude of purse and position when people who go\nabout everywhere know you well by sight and have never met your dress\nbefore.\n\nLady Shalem was a woman of commanding presence, of that type which\nsuggests a consciousness that the command may not necessarily be obeyed;\nshe had", "as they are. And now you are going to go a step beyond that,\nand other people will applaud you and say that you are wonderful, and\ninvite you to eat with them and motor with them and yacht with them. As\nsoon as that begins to happen, Ronnie, a lot of other things will come to\nan end. Of course I've always known that you don't really care for me,\nbut as soon as the world knows it you are irrevocably damaged as a\nplaything. That is the great secret that binds us together", "and starvation. It was just that\nnameless something that was lacking in the young musician, who stood at\nthe further end of the room, bathed in a flood of compliment and\ncongratulation, enjoying the honey-drops of his triumph.\n\nLuton pushed his way through the crowd and left the room, without\ntroubling to take leave of his hostess.\n\n\"What a strange young man,\" exclaimed the Duchess; \"now do take me into\nthe next room,\" she went on almost in the same breath, \"I'm just dying", " \"Now you'll cool off about that supper\nparty, and turn down Gorla and the rest of us.\"\n\nIt was certainly true that the supper already seemed a more difficult\nproposition in Cicely's eyes than it had a moment or two ago.\n\n \"'You'll not forget my only daughter,\n E'en though Saphia has crossed the sea,'\"\n\nquoted Tony, with mocking laughter in his voice and eyes.\n\nCicely went down to greet her husband. She felt that she was probably\nvery glad that he", "\n\"Thank you, I have lunched already,\" he said in answer to a question from\nCicely. \"Thank you,\" he said again in a cheerful affirmative, as the\nquestion of hock in a tall ice-cold goblet was propounded to him.\n\n\"I've come to tell you the latest about the Gorla Mustelford evening,\" he\ncontinued. \"Old Laurent is putting his back into it, and it's really\ngoing to be rather a big affair. She's going to out-Russian the\nRuss", "it, fight it!\"\n\nYeovil knew that the old lady was fighting her last battle, rallying the\ndiscouraged, and spurring on the backward.\n\nA footman came to announce that the carriage waited to take him back to\nthe station. His hostess walked with him through the hall, and came out\non to the stone-flagged terrace, the terrace from which a former Lady\nGreymarten had watched the twinkling bonfires that told of Waterloo.\n\nYeovil said good-bye to her as she stood", "the\nhuman wave receded, and the hostess fled at last with some relief to the\nnarrower limits of her writing-room and the sedative influences of a\ncigarette. She was inclined to be sorry for herself; the triumph of the\nafternoon had turned out much as she had predicted at lunch time. Her\nidol of onyx had not been swept from its pedestal, but the pedestal\nitself had an air of being packed up ready for transport to some other\ntemple. Ronnie would be flattered and spoiled by half a hundred people" ], [ "and\ngenerally afternoon, a land where bees hummed among the wild thyme and in\nthe flower beds of cottage gardens, where the harvest-mice rustled amid\nthe corn and nettles, and the mill-race flowed cool and silent through\nwater-weeds and dark tunnelled sluices, and made soft droning music with\nthe wooden mill-wheel. And the music carried with it the wording of old\nundying rhymes, and sang of the jolly, uncaring, uncared-for miller, of\nthe farmer who went riding upon", "horses of the neighbourhood; even the foxes seemed to have a personality,\nsome of them, and a personal history. It was a little like Hans\nAndersen, he decided, and a little like the Reminiscences of an Irish\nR.M., and perhaps just a little like some of the more probable adventures\nof Baron Munchausen. The newer stories were evidently true to the\nsmallest detail, the earlier ones had altered somewhat in repetition, as\nplants and animals vary under domestication.\n\nAnd all the time there was one topic", "\nmeasure. Her scheme of life was not a wholly selfish one; no one could\nunderstand what she wanted as well as she did herself, therefore she felt\nthat she was the best person to pursue her own ends and cater for her own\nwants. To have others thinking and acting for one merely meant that one\nhad to be perpetually grateful for a lot of well-meant and usually\nunsatisfactory services. It was like the case of a rich man giving a\ncommunity a free library, when probably the community only wanted free\nfishing or reduced tram-fares.", "is genuinely but unseeingly addicted to\nunselfishness.\n\nAlso she kept in her armoury the weapon which can be so mightily\neffective if used sparingly by a really sincere individual--the knowledge\nof when to be a humbug. Ambition entered to a certain extent into her\nlife, and governed it perhaps rather more than she knew. She desired to\nescape from the doom of being a nonentity, but the escape would have to\nbe effected in her own way and in her own time; to be governed by\nambition was only a", "saying into \"While life is with us how little of life even\nthe materialist understands.\" Most people that she knew took endless\npains and precautions to preserve and prolong their lives and keep their\npowers of enjoyment unimpaired; few, very few, seemed to make any\nintelligent effort at understanding what they really wanted in the way of\nenjoying their lives, or to ascertain what were the best means for\nsatisfying those wants. Fewer still bent their whole energies to the one\nparamount aim of getting what they wanted in the fullest possible", "and it\nwill ruin him. I speak feelingly because I'm gravitating towards\nplumpness myself. The Divine Architect turns us out fearfully and\nwonderfully built, and the result is charming to the eye, and then He\nadds another chin and two or three extra inches round the waist, and the\neffect is ruined. Fortunately you can always find another Ronnie when\nthis one grows fat and uninteresting; the supply of boys who look nice\nand eat asparagus is unlimited. Hullo, Mr. Storre, we were all", "such a mess as he is in . . . he cannot do anything, he\nis absolutely helpless, helpless.\"\n\n\"Ah, you take my bishop, do you? Much I care for that. Nothing. See, I\ngive you check. Ah, now he is in a fright! He doesn't know where to go.\nWhat a mess he is in . . . \"\n\nSo the game proceeded, with a brisk exchange of pieces and incivilities\nand a fluctuation of fortunes, till the little banker lost his queen as\nthe result", "ess that they punctiliously observed in other affairs of life. A\nrunning fire of contemptuous remarks and aggressive satire accompanied\neach move, and the mere record of the conversation would have given an\nuninitiated onlooker the puzzling impression that an easy and crushing\nvictory was assured to both the players.\n\n\"Aha, he is puzzled. Poor man, he doesn't know what to do . . . Oho, he\nthinks he will move there, does he? Much good that will do him. . . .\nNever have I seen", "spread\naway for some distance, to where the ground rose in a small hillock and\nthen fell away abruptly into bare hillside.\n\n\"In all this garden that you see,\" said the Englishwoman, \"there is one\ntree that is sacred.\"\n\n\"A tree?\" said the Frenchman.\n\n\"A tree that we could not grow in England.\"\n\nThe Frenchman followed the direction of her eyes and saw a tall, bare\npole at the summit of the hillock. At the same moment the sun came over\nthe hilltops in a deep, orange glow, and", "as they are. And now you are going to go a step beyond that,\nand other people will applaud you and say that you are wonderful, and\ninvite you to eat with them and motor with them and yacht with them. As\nsoon as that begins to happen, Ronnie, a lot of other things will come to\nan end. Of course I've always known that you don't really care for me,\nbut as soon as the world knows it you are irrevocably damaged as a\nplaything. That is the great secret that binds us together", "ously. But meanwhile it is necessary to\npreserve our industrial life and our social life, and for that reason we\nmust accommodate ourselves to present circumstances, however distasteful\nthey may be. Emigration to some colonial wilderness, or holding\nourselves rigidly aloof from the life of the capital, won't help matters.\nReally, Murrey, if you will think things over a bit, you will see that\nthe course I am following is the one dictated by sane patriotism.\"\n\n\"Whom the gods wish to render harmless they first", " Try and liven things\nup a bit.\"\n\nA loud barking sound, as of fur-seals calling across Arctic ice, came\nfrom another table, where Mrs. Mentieth-Mendlesohnn (one of the\nMendlesohnns of Invergordon, as she was wont to describe herself) was\nproclaiming the glories and subtleties of Gorla's achievement.\n\n\"It was a revelation,\" she shouted; \"I sat there and saw a whole new\nscheme of thought unfold itself before my eyes. One could", "meet with in a day's journey. Early in life, almost before he was\nin his teens, Fritz von Kwarl had made up his mind to accept the world as\nit was, and to that philosophical resolution, steadfastly adhered to, he\nattributed his excellent digestion and his unruffled happiness. Perhaps\nhe confused cause and effect; the excellent digestion may have been\nresponsible for at least some of the philosophical serenity.\n\nHe was a bachelor of the type that is called confirmed, and which might\nbetter be", "\"I\nloathe it. As to fighting, one must first find out what weapon to use,\nand how to use it effectively. One must watch and wait.\"\n\n\"One must not wait too long,\" said the old woman. \"Time is on their\nside, not ours. It is the young people we must fight for now, if they\nare ever to fight for us. A new generation will spring up, a weaker\nmemory of old glories will survive, the eclat of the ruling race will\ncapture young imaginations. If I had your youth,", "acency, still engaged, in all probability, in reclothing\nhimself in the finery of the previous evening.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII: THE DEAD WHO DO NOT UNDERSTAND\n\n\nThe pale light of a November afternoon faded rapidly into the dusk of a\nNovember evening. Far over the countryside housewives put up their\ncottage shutters, lit their lamps, and made the customary remark that the\ndays were drawing in. In barn yards and poultry-runs the greediest\npullets made a final tour of", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "t it? And yet I suppose the knowledge of being able to jump\nthrough a hoop better than any other wolf would justify a certain amount\nof 'side.'\"\n\nFortunately at this moment a young Italian journalist at another table\nrose from his seat and delivered a two-minute oration in praise of the\nheroine of the evening. He spoke in rapid nervous French, with a North\nItalian accent, but much of what he said could be understood by the\nmajority of those present, and the applause was unanimous. At any rate\nhe had been brief and", "going to do a seemingly unwifely thing. I'm going to go out\nand leave you alone with an old friend. Doctor Holham is coming in to\ndrink coffee and smoke with you. I arranged this because I knew it was\nwhat you would like. Men can talk these things over best by themselves,\nand Holham can tell you everything that happened--since you went away. It\nwill be a dreary story, I'm afraid, but you will want to hear it all. It\nwas a nightmare time, but now one sees it in a calmer", "ham, there was nothing for it but to\nhope that this was a false, groundless rumour, that had somehow crept to\nthe confines of civilisation. In my saner balanced moments it was\npossible to disbelieve it, but if you have ever suffered from delirium\nyou will know what raging torments of agony I went through in the nights,\nhow my brain fought and refought that rumoured disaster.\"\n\nThe doctor gave a murmur of sympathetic understanding.\n\n\"Then,\" continued Yeovil, \"I reached the small Siberian town", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw" ], [ "eovil stared at the man and then turned to look at the small\nneatly-printed notice to which the official was imperiously pointing; in\ntwo languages it was made known that it was forbidden and verboten,\npunishable and straffbar, to walk on the grass.\n\n\"Three shilling fine,\" said the policeman, extending his hand for the\nmoney.\n\n\"Do I pay you?\" asked Yeovil, feeling almost inclined to laugh; \"I'm\nrather a stranger to the new order of things.\"\n\n\"You pay", "me,\" said the policeman, \"and you receive a quittance for the\nsum paid,\" and he proceeded to tear a counterfoil receipt for a three\nshilling fine from a small pocket book.\n\n\"May I ask,\" said Yeovil, as he handed over the sum demanded and received\nhis quittance, \"what the red and white band on your sleeve stands for?\"\n\n\"Bi-lingual,\" said the constable, with an air of importance. \"Preference\nis given to members of the Force who qualify in both languages. Nearly\nall", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "had\ntheir reward; torn and exhausted and debt-encumbered from their\ncampaigns, they were masters in their own house, the Bulgarian flag flew\nover the Bulgarian mountains. And Yeovil stole a glance at the crown of\nCharlemagne set over the Royal box.\n\nIn a capacious box immediately opposite the one set aside for royalty the\nLady Shalem sat in well-considered prominence, confident that every press\ncritic and reporter would note her presence, and that one or two of them\nwould describe, or misdescribe,", "t it? And yet I suppose the knowledge of being able to jump\nthrough a hoop better than any other wolf would justify a certain amount\nof 'side.'\"\n\nFortunately at this moment a young Italian journalist at another table\nrose from his seat and delivered a two-minute oration in praise of the\nheroine of the evening. He spoke in rapid nervous French, with a North\nItalian accent, but much of what he said could be understood by the\nmajority of those present, and the applause was unanimous. At any rate\nhe had been brief and", "ess that they punctiliously observed in other affairs of life. A\nrunning fire of contemptuous remarks and aggressive satire accompanied\neach move, and the mere record of the conversation would have given an\nuninitiated onlooker the puzzling impression that an easy and crushing\nvictory was assured to both the players.\n\n\"Aha, he is puzzled. Poor man, he doesn't know what to do . . . Oho, he\nthinks he will move there, does he? Much good that will do him. . . .\nNever have I seen", "there any detailed account of my\ncostume in the Dawn?\"\n\nHis companion laughed cynically.\n\n\"As if you hadn't read everything that the Dawn and the other morning\npapers have to say about the ball hours ago.\"\n\n\"The naked truth should be avoided in a Turkish bath,\" said Cornelian;\n\"kindly assume that I've only had time to glance at the weather forecast\nand the news from China.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well,\" said the other; \"your costume isn't described; you\nsimply come amid a host of others", ".\n\nThe Row and its riders had become suddenly detestable to the wanderer; he\nwould not run the risk of seeing that insolently joyous cavalcade come\ngalloping past again. Beyond a narrow stretch of tree-shaded grass lay\nthe placid sunlit water of the Serpentine, and Yeovil made a short cut\nacross the turf to reach its gravelled bank.\n\n\"Can't you read either English or German?\" asked a policeman who\nconfronted him as he stepped off the turf.\n\nY", "instantly place the chessboard with its marshalled ranks of combatants in\nthe required position, and the contest would begin.\n\nHerr von Kwarl was a heavily built man of mature middle-age, of the blond\nNorth-German type, with a facial aspect that suggested stupidity and\nbrutality. The stupidity of his mien masked an ability and shrewdness\nthat was distinctly above the average, and the suggestion of brutality\nwas belied by the fact that von Kwarl was as kind-hearted a man as one\ncould", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", ", and who would no doubt be willing to drop him at his\ndestination; the gentleman had also been out with the hounds. Yeovil's\nhorse could be stabled at the inn and fetched home by a groom the next\nmorning. A hurried embassy to the bar parlour resulted in the news that\nthe motorist would be delighted to be of assistance to a\nfellow-sportsman. Yeovil gratefully accepted the chance that had so\nobligingly come his way, and hastened to superintend the housing of his\nhorse in", "flaunting all over the place, but\nwhat is one to do?\"\n\nYeovil said nothing, with the air of a man who could have said a great\ndeal.\n\n\"I suppose you wonder, why remain a member under those conditions?\"\ncontinued Herlton. \"Well, as far as I am concerned, a place like this is\na necessity for me. In fact, it's my profession, my source of income.\"\n\n\"Are you as good at bridge as all that?\" asked Yeovil; \"I'm a fairly\nsuccessful player", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "he had been\nat a loss to account for. The Londoner is not well adapted for the\nirresponsible noisiness of jesting tongue that bubbles up naturally in a\nSouthern race, and the effort to be volatile was the more noticeable\nbecause it so obviously was an effort. Turning over the pages of a book\nthat told the story of Bulgarian social life in the days of Turkish rule,\nYeovil had that morning come across a passage that seemed to throw some\nlight on the thing that had puzzled him:\n\n\"Bondage has this one", "room and a lively black kitten helped\nhim to dress, and incidentally helped him to require a new tassel to the\ncord of his dressing-gown. As he finished his toilet and the kitten\nfinished its sixth and most notable attack on the tassel a ring was heard\nat the front door, and a moment later a loud, hearty, and unmistakably\nhungry voice resounded in the hall. It belonged to the local doctor, who\nhad also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the\nev", "? Isn't he?\" exclaimed a young American\nwoman, with an enthusiasm to which Lady Peach entirely failed to respond.\nShe had intended following up her story with the account of another\ntragedy of a similar nature that had befallen her three years ago in\nArgyllshire, and now the opportunity had gone. She turned morosely to\nthe consolations of a tongue salad.\n\nAt the centre table the excellent von Tolb led a chorus of congratulation\nand compliment, to which Gorla listened with an air of polite detachment,\nmuch", "floors below,\nwhose nimbleness and audacity were as precious to him as the forwardness\nof the birds is to a skilled gun on a grouse moor. Once every day Wotan\ncame marching in stately fashion across the polished floor, halted mid-\nway to resume an unfinished toilet operation, and then proceeded to pay\nhis leisurely respects to his friend von Kwarl. The latter was said to\nbe prouder of this daily demonstration of esteem than of his many coveted\norders of merit. ", "don't know,\" confessed Yeovil; \"you see glory hasn't come very much my\nway lately.\" Then, before he exactly realised what he was doing, he\nraised his voice and quoted loudly for the benefit of half the room:\n\n \"'Other Romans shall arise,\n Heedless of a soldier's name,\n Sounds, not deeds, shall win the prize,\n Harmony the path to fame.'\"\n\nThere was a sort of shiver of surprised silence at Yeovil's end of the\nroom.\n\n\"Hell!\"\n", "I had temperament to the finger-\ntips, and I was too polite to contradict him. But I haven't told you the\nreally important thing about the Mustelford debut. It is a profound\nsecret, more or less, so you must promise not to breathe a word about it\ntill half-past four, when it will appear in all the six o'clock\nnewspapers.\"\n\nTony paused for dramatic effect, while he drained his goblet, and then\nmade his announcement.\n\n\"Majesty is going to be present. ", "et. He had doubtless seen him at the meet that morning, but in his\nhunting kit he had escaped his observation.\n\n\"I, too, have been out with the hounds,\" the young man continued; \"I have\nleft my horse at the Crow and Sceptre at Dolford. You are living at\nBlack Dene, are you not? I can take you right past your door, it is all\non my way.\"\n\nYeovil hung back for a moment, overwhelmed with vexation and\nembarrassment, but it was too late to" ], [ "eovil stared at the man and then turned to look at the small\nneatly-printed notice to which the official was imperiously pointing; in\ntwo languages it was made known that it was forbidden and verboten,\npunishable and straffbar, to walk on the grass.\n\n\"Three shilling fine,\" said the policeman, extending his hand for the\nmoney.\n\n\"Do I pay you?\" asked Yeovil, feeling almost inclined to laugh; \"I'm\nrather a stranger to the new order of things.\"\n\n\"You pay", "me,\" said the policeman, \"and you receive a quittance for the\nsum paid,\" and he proceeded to tear a counterfoil receipt for a three\nshilling fine from a small pocket book.\n\n\"May I ask,\" said Yeovil, as he handed over the sum demanded and received\nhis quittance, \"what the red and white band on your sleeve stands for?\"\n\n\"Bi-lingual,\" said the constable, with an air of importance. \"Preference\nis given to members of the Force who qualify in both languages. Nearly\nall", "had\ntheir reward; torn and exhausted and debt-encumbered from their\ncampaigns, they were masters in their own house, the Bulgarian flag flew\nover the Bulgarian mountains. And Yeovil stole a glance at the crown of\nCharlemagne set over the Royal box.\n\nIn a capacious box immediately opposite the one set aside for royalty the\nLady Shalem sat in well-considered prominence, confident that every press\ncritic and reporter would note her presence, and that one or two of them\nwould describe, or misdescribe,", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", ", and who would no doubt be willing to drop him at his\ndestination; the gentleman had also been out with the hounds. Yeovil's\nhorse could be stabled at the inn and fetched home by a groom the next\nmorning. A hurried embassy to the bar parlour resulted in the news that\nthe motorist would be delighted to be of assistance to a\nfellow-sportsman. Yeovil gratefully accepted the chance that had so\nobligingly come his way, and hastened to superintend the housing of his\nhorse in", ".\n\nThe Row and its riders had become suddenly detestable to the wanderer; he\nwould not run the risk of seeing that insolently joyous cavalcade come\ngalloping past again. Beyond a narrow stretch of tree-shaded grass lay\nthe placid sunlit water of the Serpentine, and Yeovil made a short cut\nacross the turf to reach its gravelled bank.\n\n\"Can't you read either English or German?\" asked a policeman who\nconfronted him as he stepped off the turf.\n\nY", "before him.\n\nInstead he broke into the conversation with an inspired flash of\nmalicious untruthfulness.\n\n\"It is wonderful,\" he observed carelessly, \"how popular that Viennese\nstatue of Mozart has become. A friend who inspects County Council Art\nSchools tells me you find a copy of it in every class-room you go into.\"\n\nIt was a poor substitute for physical violence, but it was all that\ncivilisation allowed him in the way of relieving his feelings; it had,\nmoreover, the effect of making Plarsey profound", "? Isn't he?\" exclaimed a young American\nwoman, with an enthusiasm to which Lady Peach entirely failed to respond.\nShe had intended following up her story with the account of another\ntragedy of a similar nature that had befallen her three years ago in\nArgyllshire, and now the opportunity had gone. She turned morosely to\nthe consolations of a tongue salad.\n\nAt the centre table the excellent von Tolb led a chorus of congratulation\nand compliment, to which Gorla listened with an air of polite detachment,\nmuch", "his horse.\" . . . \"That is the Grand Duke of Baden's nephew,\ntalking to the King of Wurtemberg now.\"\n\nOn the buzz and chatter of the spectators fell suddenly three sound\nstrokes, distant, measured, sinister; the clang of a clock striking\nthree.\n\n\"Three o'clock and not a boy scout within sight or hearing!\" exclaimed\nthe loud ringing voice of Joan Mardle; \"one can usually hear their drums\nand trumpets a couple of miles away.\"\n\n\"There is the traffic to", "he possessed there lurked a rankling bitterness against the hard\nthings of life, or a scrap of gratitude towards the one or two friends\nwho had helped him disinterestedly, but his most intimate associates\ncould not have guessed at the existence of such feelings. Tony Luton was\njust a merry-eyed dancing faun, whom Fate had surrounded with streets\ninstead of woods, and it would have been in the highest degree inartistic\nto have sounded him for a heart or a heartache.\n\nThe dancing of the faun took one day a livel", "ly out of his saddle, and in answer\nto the loud rattle of his hunting crop on the open door the innkeeper and\ntwo or three hangers-on hurried out to attend to the wants of man and\nbeast. Flour and water for the horse and something hot for himself were\nYeovil's first concern, and then he began to clamour for geographical\ninformation. He was rather dismayed to find that the cumulative opinions\nof those whom he consulted, and of several others who joined unbidden in\nthe discussion, placed his destination at nothing near", "the back row of a low-priced gallery, whence he might watch, observant\nand unobserved, the much talked-of debut of Gorla Mustelford, and the\nwriting of a new chapter in the history of the fait accompli. Around him\nhe noticed an incessant undercurrent of jangling laughter, an unending\ngive-and-take of meaningless mirthless jest and catchword. He had\nnoticed the same thing in streets and public places since his arrival in\nLondon, a noisy, empty interchange of chaff and laughter that", "don't know,\" confessed Yeovil; \"you see glory hasn't come very much my\nway lately.\" Then, before he exactly realised what he was doing, he\nraised his voice and quoted loudly for the benefit of half the room:\n\n \"'Other Romans shall arise,\n Heedless of a soldier's name,\n Sounds, not deeds, shall win the prize,\n Harmony the path to fame.'\"\n\nThere was a sort of shiver of surprised silence at Yeovil's end of the\nroom.\n\n\"Hell!\"\n", "and a North American rendering of English, with here and\nthere the sharp shaken-out staccato of Japanese. A sleepy-looking boy,\nin a nondescript uniform, was wandering to and fro among the customers,\noffering for sale the Matin, New York Herald, Berliner Tageblatt, and a\nhost of crudely coloured illustrated papers, embodying the hard-worked\nwit of a world-legion of comic artists. Yeovil hurried through the\nArcade; it was not here, in this atmosphere of staring", "flaunting all over the place, but\nwhat is one to do?\"\n\nYeovil said nothing, with the air of a man who could have said a great\ndeal.\n\n\"I suppose you wonder, why remain a member under those conditions?\"\ncontinued Herlton. \"Well, as far as I am concerned, a place like this is\na necessity for me. In fact, it's my profession, my source of income.\"\n\n\"Are you as good at bridge as all that?\" asked Yeovil; \"I'm a fairly\nsuccessful player", "et. He had doubtless seen him at the meet that morning, but in his\nhunting kit he had escaped his observation.\n\n\"I, too, have been out with the hounds,\" the young man continued; \"I have\nleft my horse at the Crow and Sceptre at Dolford. You are living at\nBlack Dene, are you not? I can take you right past your door, it is all\non my way.\"\n\nYeovil hung back for a moment, overwhelmed with vexation and\nembarrassment, but it was too late to", "inspection, picking up the stray remaining\nmorsels of the evening meal, and then, with much scrambling and\nsquawking, sought the places on the roosting-pole that they thought\nshould belong to them. Labourers working in yard and field began to turn\ntheir thoughts homeward or tavernward as the case might be. And through\nthe cold squelching slush of a water-logged meadow a weary, bedraggled,\nbut unbeaten fox stiffly picked his way, climbed a high bramble-", "room and a lively black kitten helped\nhim to dress, and incidentally helped him to require a new tassel to the\ncord of his dressing-gown. As he finished his toilet and the kitten\nfinished its sixth and most notable attack on the tassel a ring was heard\nat the front door, and a moment later a loud, hearty, and unmistakably\nhungry voice resounded in the hall. It belonged to the local doctor, who\nhad also taken part in the day's run and had been bidden to enliven the\nev", "he had been\nat a loss to account for. The Londoner is not well adapted for the\nirresponsible noisiness of jesting tongue that bubbles up naturally in a\nSouthern race, and the effort to be volatile was the more noticeable\nbecause it so obviously was an effort. Turning over the pages of a book\nthat told the story of Bulgarian social life in the days of Turkish rule,\nYeovil had that morning come across a passage that seemed to throw some\nlight on the thing that had puzzled him:\n\n\"Bondage has this one", "floors below,\nwhose nimbleness and audacity were as precious to him as the forwardness\nof the birds is to a skilled gun on a grouse moor. Once every day Wotan\ncame marching in stately fashion across the polished floor, halted mid-\nway to resume an unfinished toilet operation, and then proceeded to pay\nhis leisurely respects to his friend von Kwarl. The latter was said to\nbe prouder of this daily demonstration of esteem than of his many coveted\norders of merit. " ], [ "\nran a trenchant searing irony. The British born subjects of the Germanic\nCrown, inhabiting the islands of Great Britain and Ireland, had\nhabituated themselves as a people to the disuse of arms, and resolutely\nexcluded military service and national training from their political\nsystem and daily life. Their judgment that they were unsuited as a race\nto bear arms and conform to military discipline was not to be set aside.\nTheir new Overlord did not propose to do violence to their feelings and\ncustoms by requiring from them the personal military sacrifices and\n", "services which were rendered by his subjects German-born. The British\nsubjects of the Crown were to remain a people consecrated to peaceful\npursuits, to commerce and trade and husbandry. The defence of their\ncoasts and shipping and the maintenance of order and general safety would\nbe guaranteed by a garrison of German troops, with the co-operation of\nthe Imperial war fleet. German-born subjects residing temporarily or\npermanently in the British Isles would come under the same laws\nrespecting compulsory military service as their fellow-subjects of German\nblo", "its nature was so utterly unexpected. Public anticipation had guessed at\nvarious forms of military service, aggressively irksome or tactfully\nlightened as the case might be, in any event certain to be bitterly\nunpopular, and now there had come this contemptuous boon, which had\nremoved, at one stroke, the bogey of compulsory military service from the\ntroubled imaginings of the British people, and fastened on them the cruel\ndistinction of being in actual fact what an enemy had called them in\nsplenetic scorn long years ago--a", "s day they bring out and wear\nthe faded wild-rose favours that they bought with their pennies in days\ngone by.\"\n\n\"The tragedy of the enactment that is about to enforce military service\non these people is that it comes when they've no longer a country to\nfight for,\" said Yeovil.\n\nThe young clergyman gave an exclamation of bitter impatience.\n\n\"That is the cruel mockery of the whole thing. Every now and then in the\ncourse of my work I have come across lads who were really drifting", "od in the other parts of the Empire, and special enactments would be\ndrawn up to ensure that their interests did not suffer from a periodical\nwithdrawal on training or other military calls. Necessarily a heavily\ndifferentiated scale of war taxation would fall on British taxpayers, to\nprovide for the upkeep of the garrison and to equalise the services and\nsacrifices rendered by the two branches of his Majesty's subjects. As\nmilitary service was not henceforth open to any subject of British birth\nno further necessity", "able\nit is.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Yeovil, \"and I suppose, as a matter of fact, a good\nmany of your clients belong to the conquering race.\"\n\n\"Well, you see, they are the people who have got the money,\" said\nHerlton; \"I don't mean to say that the invading Germans are usually\npeople of wealth, but while they live over here they escape the crushing\ntaxation that falls on the British-born subject. They serve their\ncountry as soldiers, and we have to serve it in garrison money,", "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "scare-mongers,' and their\nverdict was for the vote-mongers all the time. And now they are bitter;\nthey are being punished, and punishment is not a thing that they have\nbeen schooled to bear. The taxes that are falling on them are a grievous\nsource of discontent, and the military service that will be imposed on\nthem, for the first time in their lives, will be another. There is a\nmore lovable side to their character under misfortune, though,\" added the\nyoung clergyman. \"Deep", "the incense-clouds of a fat\ncigar; \"a danger that I foresee in the immediate future; perhaps not so\nmuch a danger as an element of exasperation which may ultimately defeat\nyour plans. The law as to military service will have to be promulgated\nshortly, and that cannot fail to be bitterly unpopular. The people of\nthese islands will have to be brought into line with the rest of the\nEmpire in the matter of military training and military service, and how\nwill they like that? Will not the enforcing", "man; \"we mean business this\ntime. The last war wasn't a war, it was a snap. We weren't prepared and\nthey were. That won't happen again, bless you. I know what I'm talking\nabout. I go up and down the country, and I hear what people are saying.\"\n\nYeovil privately doubted if he ever heard anything but his own opinions.\n\n\"It stands to reason,\" continued the fisherman, \"that a highly civilised\nrace like ours, with the record that we've had", "'s throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.\nAh, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to\nlie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but\nthey were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a\nlamb that he was lying down with.\"\n\n\"You do not like the English, I gather,\" said Yeovil, as the Hungarian\nwent off into a short burst of satirical laughter.\n\n\"I have always liked them,\"", "in and out,\nannouncing to an indifferent public the fate of Essex wickets. As far as\nher searching eyes could travel the green stretch of tree and sward\nremained unbroken, save by casual loiterers. No small brown columns\nappeared, no drum beat came throbbing up from the distance. The little\nflags pegged out to mark the positions of the awaited scout-corps\nfluttered in meaningless isolation on the empty parade ground.\n\nHis Majesty was talking unconcernedly with one of his officers, the\n", "ing German patronage. The stream of British emigration will\nswell rather than diminish, and the stream of Teuton immigration will be\nequally persistent and progressive. Yes, the military-service ordinance\nwas a cunning stroke on the part of that old fox, von Kwarl. As a\ncivilian statesman he is far and away cleverer than Bismarck was; he\nsmothers with a feather-bed where Bismarck would have tried to smash with\na sledge-hammer.\"\n\n\"Have you got me down", "-links of\nBritain.\"\n\n\"I don't see why you should saddle one particular form of sport with a\nspecial responsibility,\" protested Cicely.\n\n\"Of course not,\" said Yeovil, \"except that it absorbed perhaps more of\nthe energy and attention of the leisured class than other sports did, and\nin this country the leisured class was the only bulwark we had against\nofficial indifference. The working classes had a big share of the\napathy, and, indirectly, a greater share of the responsibility, because\nthe", "avelled far and willingly up and down the world. He was very much at\nhome. The alien standard floating over Buckingham Palace, the Crown of\nCharlemagne on public buildings and official documents, the grey ships of\nwar riding in Plymouth Bay and Southampton Water with a flag at their\nstern that older generations of Britons had never looked on, these things\nseemed far away and inconsequent amid the hedgerows and woods and fallows\nof the East Wessex country. Horse and hound-craft, harvest, game broods,\nthe planting", "the war,\nbut they are beginning to get back their votaries because out-door sport\nhas become a necessity, and a very rational necessity, with numbers of\nmen who have to work otherwise under unnatural and exacting conditions.\nThat is one factor of the situation. The other affects London more\nespecially, but through London it influences the rest of the country to a\ncertain extent. You will see around you here much that will strike you\nas indications of heartless indifference to the calamity that has\nbefallen our nation. Well, you must remember that many things", " Oh, the scene the other day because\nsome one brought some jonquils into the house! I'm afraid I was\ndreadfully rude, but I really couldn't help it.\"\n\nHe could talk like this through a long summer day or a long winter\nevening.\n\nYeovil belonged to a race forbidden to bear arms. At the moment he would\ngladly have contented himself with the weapons with which nature had\nendowed him, if he might have kicked and pommelled the abhorrent specimen\nof male humanity whom he saw", "and pretend it is not there. I thought at one\ntime that I should never really know what it meant, what it brought to\none. I thought of it as a messenger that one could keep waiting out in\nthe yard till the very last moment. I know now what it means. . . . But\nyou, Murrey, you are young, you can fight. Are you going to be a\nfighter, or the very humble servant of the fait accompli?\"\n\n\"I shall never be the servant of the fait accompli,\" said Yeovil. ", "the country\nparts, and always they tell me they go to church once in each week to set\nthe good example to the servants. They were tired of their faith, but\nthey were not virile enough to become real Pagans; their dancing fauns\nwere good young men who tripped Morris dances and ate health foods and\nbelieved in a sort of Socialism which made for the greatest dulness of\nthe greatest number. You will find plenty of them still if you go into\nwhat remains of social London.\"\n\nYeovil gave a grunt of acquiesc", "turned once more to an item of news in the\nmorning's papers that had already arrested his attention. The Imperial\nAufklarung on the subject of military service was to be made public in\nthe course of the day.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI: THE TEA SHOP\n\n\nYeovil wandered down Piccadilly that afternoon in a spirit of\nrestlessness and expectancy. The long-awaited Aufklarung dealing with\nthe new law of military service had not yet appeared; at any moment he\nmight meet the hoarse-" ], [ "educated, and of course it helps him to\nearn a living.\"\n\n\"And the society of the place?\" asked the Frenchman.\n\nHis hostess laughed.\n\n\"I must admit it has to be looked for with a strong pair of\nfield-glasses,\" she said; \"it is almost as difficult to get a good bridge\nfour together as it would have been to get up a tennis tournament or a\nsubscription dance in our particular corner of England. One has to\nignore distances and forget fatigue if one wants to be gregarious even on\na limited scale. ", "-hunting. Already he felt that he had\nbeen doing nothing different from this all his life. His foreign\ntravels, his illness, his recent weeks in London, they were part of a\ntapestried background that had very slight and distant connection with\nhis present existence. Of the future he tried to think with greater\nenergy and determination. For this winter, at any rate, he would hunt\nand do a little shooting, entertain a few of his neighbours and make\nfriends with any congenial fellow-sportsmen who might be within reach.\nNext", "There are one or two officials who are our chief social\nmainstays, but the difficulty is to muster the few available souls under\nthe same roof at the same moment. A road will be impassable in one\nquarter, a pony will be lame in another, a stress of work will prevent\nsome one else from coming, and another may be down with a touch of fever.\nWhen my little girl gave a birthday party here her only little girl guest\nhad come twelve miles to attend it. The Forest officer happened to drop\nin on us that evening, so we felt quite fest", "\nevening's entertainment, and the chance arrival of a tired official took\non the nature of a festivity. He looked round again at the rolling\nstretches of brown hills; before he had regarded them merely as the\nbackground to this little shut-away world, now he saw that they were\nforeground as well. They were everything, there was nothing else. And\nagain his glance travelled to the face of his hostess, with its bright,\npleasant eyes and smiling mouth.\n\n\"And you live here with your children,\" he said, \"here in this\nw", "ive.\"\n\nThe Frenchman's eyes grew round in wonder. He had once thought that the\ncapital city of a Balkan kingdom was the uttermost limit of social\ndesolation, viewed from a Parisian standpoint, and there at any rate one\ncould get cafe chantant, tennis, picnic parties, an occasional theatre\nperformance by a foreign troupe, now and then a travelling circus, not to\nspeak of Court and diplomatic functions of a more or less sociable\ncharacter. Here, it seemed, one went a day's journey to reach an", "and starvation. It was just that\nnameless something that was lacking in the young musician, who stood at\nthe further end of the room, bathed in a flood of compliment and\ncongratulation, enjoying the honey-drops of his triumph.\n\nLuton pushed his way through the crowd and left the room, without\ntroubling to take leave of his hostess.\n\n\"What a strange young man,\" exclaimed the Duchess; \"now do take me into\nthe next room,\" she went on almost in the same breath, \"I'm just dying", "he possessed there lurked a rankling bitterness against the hard\nthings of life, or a scrap of gratitude towards the one or two friends\nwho had helped him disinterestedly, but his most intimate associates\ncould not have guessed at the existence of such feelings. Tony Luton was\njust a merry-eyed dancing faun, whom Fate had surrounded with streets\ninstead of woods, and it would have been in the highest degree inartistic\nto have sounded him for a heart or a heartache.\n\nThe dancing of the faun took one day a livel", "people who accepted their invitations for the second or\nthird time were not the sort of people whose names gave importance to a\ndinner party or a house gathering. Failure, in a thinly-disguised form,\nattended the assiduous efforts of the Shalems to play a leading role in\nthe world that they had climbed into. The Baron began to observe to his\nacquaintances that \"gadding about\" and entertaining on a big scale was\nnot much in his line; a quiet after-dinner pipe and talk with some\nbrother legislator was his ideal", "She was\none of those characters that can neither thrust themselves to the front,\nnor have any wish to do so, but being there, no ordinary power can thrust\nthem away.\n\nWith the Grafin as her friend Cicely found herself in altogether a\ndifferent position from that involved by the mere interested patronage of\nLady Shalem. A vista of social success was opened up to her, and she did\nnot mean it to be just the ordinary success of a popular and influential\nhostess moving in an important circle. That people with naturally bad\nmanners should have to", ", were always to\nbe found there early in the forenoon, and the honoured guest for whom\nthese preparations were made usually arrived on the scene shortly after\neleven o'clock. For an hour or so he would read and silently digest the\ncontents of his two newspapers, and then at the first sign of flagging\ninterest on his part, another of the cafe's regular customers would march\nacross the floor, exchange a word or two on the affairs of the day, and\nbe bidden with a wave of the hand into the opposite seat. A waiter would\n", "of victory achieved, tempered by a troubled sense of\nhaving achieved it in the face of a reasonably grounded opposition. She\nhad burned her boats, and was glad of it, but the reek of their burning\ndrifted rather unpleasantly across the jubilant incense-swinging of her\nTe Deum service.\n\nLast night had marked an immense step forward in her social career;\nwithout running after the patronage of influential personages she had\nseen it quietly and tactfully put at her service. People such as the\nGrafin von Tolb were", "year things would be different; he would have had time to look round\nhim, to regain something of his aforetime vigour of mind and body. Next\nyear, when the hunting season was over, he would set about finding out\nwhether there was any nobler game for him to take a hand in. He would\nenter into correspondence with old friends who had gone out into the\ntropics and the backwoods--he would do something.\n\nSo he told himself, but he knew thoroughly well that he had found his\nlevel. He had ceased to struggle against the", "ained importance, \"there goes the delectable\nPitherby. Does he come on your books at all?\"\n\n\"I should say!\" exclaimed Herlton fervently. \"The delectable P.\nnourishes expectations of a barony or viscounty at an early date. Most\nof his life has been spent in streets and squares, with occasional\nmigrations to the esplanades of fashionable watering-places or the\ngravelled walks of country house gardens. Now that noblesse is about to\nimpose its obligations on him,", "good will and\ngood nature which disarmed strangers and recent acquaintances; on getting\nto know her better they hastily re-armed themselves. Some one had once\naptly described her as a hedgehog with the protective mimicry of a\npuffball. If there was an awkward remark to be made at an inconvenient\nmoment before undesired listeners, Joan invariably made it, and when the\noccasion did not present itself she was usually capable of creating it.\nShe was not without a certain popularity, the sort of popularity that a\ndashing highwayman", "\npresent moment, herd together as closely packed to the square yard as\npossible, doing nothing worth doing, and saying nothing worth saying, but\ndoing it and saying it over and over again, listening to the same\nmelodies, watching the same artistes, echoing the same catchwords,\nordering the same dishes in the same restaurants, suffering each other's\ncigarette smoke and perfumes and conversation, feverishly, anxiously\nmaking arrangements to meet each other again to-morrow, next week, and\nthe week after next, and repeat the same gregarious", "\"but he'll come back naturally feeling sore and savage\nwith everything he sees around him, and he won't realise just at once\nthat we've been through all that ourselves, and have reached the stage of\nsullen acquiescence in what can't be helped. He won't understand, for\ninstance, how we can be enthusiastic and excited over Gorla Mustelford's\ndebut, and things of that sort; he'll think we are a set of callous\nrevellers, fiddling while Rome is burning.\"\n\n\"In this", "way of spending an evening.\n\nThen came the great catastrophe, involving the old order of society in\nthe national overthrow. Lady Shalem, after a decent interval of\npatriotic mourning, began to look around her and take stock of her\nchances and opportunities under the new regime. It was easier to achieve\ndistinction as a titled oasis in the social desert that London had become\nthan it had been to obtain recognition as a new growth in a rather\novercrowded field. The observant eyes and agile brain quickly noted this\ncircumstance", "experience. If they\nwere not herded together in a corner of western London, watching each\nother with restless intelligent eyes, they would be herded together at\nBrighton or Dieppe, doing the same thing. Well, you will find that life\nof that sort goes forward just as usual, only it is even more prominent\nand noticeable now because there is less public life of other kinds.\"\n\nYeovil said something which was possibly the Buriat word for the nether\nworld. Outside in the neighbouring square a band had been playing at\nintervals during the", "the struggle-\ncry that went up, low and bitter and wistful, from a dethroned\ndispossessed race, in whose glories he had gloried, in whose struggle he\nlent no hand. In what way, he asked himself in such moments, would his\nlife be better than the life of that parody of manhood who upholstered\nhis rooms with art hangings and rosewood furniture and babbled over the\neffect?\n\nThe lanes seemed interminable and without aim or object except to bisect\none another; gates and gaps dis", "meet with in a day's journey. Early in life, almost before he was\nin his teens, Fritz von Kwarl had made up his mind to accept the world as\nit was, and to that philosophical resolution, steadfastly adhered to, he\nattributed his excellent digestion and his unruffled happiness. Perhaps\nhe confused cause and effect; the excellent digestion may have been\nresponsible for at least some of the philosophical serenity.\n\nHe was a bachelor of the type that is called confirmed, and which might\nbetter be" ], [ "when the first corps of those little khaki-\nclad boys swings through the gates of the Park.\"\n\n\"When do they come?\" asked the baronet, catching something of his\ncompanion's zeal.\n\n\"The first detachment is due to arrive at three,\" said Lady Bailquist,\nreferring to a small time-table of the afternoon's proceedings; \"three,\npunctually, and the others will follow in rapid succession. The Emperor\nand Suite will arrive at two-fifty and take up their positions at the\nsal", "least as far as the title goes; she was born\nunder the constellation of the Star-spangled Banner. I don't suppose the\nDuke approves of her being here, lending her countenance to the fait\naccompli, but when you've got republican blood in your veins a Kaiser is\nquite as attractive a lodestar as a King, rather more so. And Canon\nMousepace is coming,\" continued Cicely, referring to a closely-written\nlist of guests; \"the excellent von Tolb has been attending his church", ", slowed down as he was turning\ninto the Mall, and pointed to the white pile of memorial statuary in\nfront of the palace gates.\n\n\"Grossmutter Denkmal, yes,\" he announced, and resumed his journey.\n\nArrived at his destination, Yeovil stood on the steps of his house and\npressed the bell with an odd sense of forlornness, as though he were a\nstranger drifting from nowhere into a land that had no cognisance of him;\na moment later he was standing in his own hall, the object of respectful\ns", " Within the next ten years, sooner\nperhaps, we shall be faced with a crisis which will be only a beginning.\nWe shall need all our strength; that is why we cannot afford to be weak\nover here. To-day is an important day; I confess I am anxious.\"\n\n\"Hark! The kettledrums!\" exclaimed the commanding voice of Lady\nBailquist. \"His Majesty is coming. Quick, bundle into the car.\"\n\nThe crowd behind the police-kept lines surged expectantly into closer\nformation; spectators", "ing German patronage. The stream of British emigration will\nswell rather than diminish, and the stream of Teuton immigration will be\nequally persistent and progressive. Yes, the military-service ordinance\nwas a cunning stroke on the part of that old fox, von Kwarl. As a\ncivilian statesman he is far and away cleverer than Bismarck was; he\nsmothers with a feather-bed where Bismarck would have tried to smash with\na sledge-hammer.\"\n\n\"Have you got me down", " \"Neither, it's Austrian, the Austrian military\nattache\" . . . \"That is von Stoppel talking to His Majesty; he organised\nthe Boy Scouts in Germany, you know.\" . . . \"His Majesty is looking very\npleased.\" \"He has reason to look pleased; this is a great event in the\nhistory of the two countries. It marks a new epoch.\" . . . \"Oh, do you\nsee the Abyssinian Envoy? What a picturesque figure he makes. How well\nhe sits", "Shalem to Herr von Kwarl, whom she was conveying in her electric brougham\nto Cicely Yeovil's supper party; \"an important evening,\" she added,\nchoosing her adjectives with deliberation. \"It should give pleasure in\nhigh quarters, should it not?\"\n\nAnd she turned her observant eyes on the impassive face of her companion.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" he replied with deliberation and meaning, \"it has given\npleasure. It is an evening to be remembered.\"\n\nThe gracious lady suppressed", "instantly place the chessboard with its marshalled ranks of combatants in\nthe required position, and the contest would begin.\n\nHerr von Kwarl was a heavily built man of mature middle-age, of the blond\nNorth-German type, with a facial aspect that suggested stupidity and\nbrutality. The stupidity of his mien masked an ability and shrewdness\nthat was distinctly above the average, and the suggestion of brutality\nwas belied by the fact that von Kwarl was as kind-hearted a man as one\ncould", "notes of personages to whom he\nmight send presentation copies of his new work \"Frederick-William, the\nGreat Elector, a Popular Biography,\" as a souvenir of to-day's auspicious\nevent.\n\n\"It is nearly a quarter to three now,\" he said; \"let us get a good\nposition before the crowd gets thicker.\"\n\n\"Come along to my car, it is just opposite to the saluting base,\" said\nher ladyship; \"I have a police pass that will let us through. We'll ask\nM", "\nThe journey seemed suddenly to have recommenced; he was under his own\nroof, his servants were waiting on him, his familiar possessions were in\nevidence around him, but the sense of being at home had vanished. It was\nas though he had arrived at some wayside hotel, and been asked to\nregister his name and status and destination. Other things of disgust\nand irritation he had foreseen in the London he was coming to--the\nalterations on stamps and coinage, the intrusive Teuton element, the\nalien uniforms cropping up everywhere, the", "ar,' German\nEmperor, had been the name that the man had been trying to convey to me.\nI shouted for the tracker, and put him through a breathless\ncross-examination; he confirmed what my fears had told me. The 'Metskie\nTsar' was a big European ruler, he had been in conflict with the\n'Angliskie Tsar,' and the latter had been defeated, swept away; the man\nspoke the word that he used for ships, and made energetic pantomime to\nexpress the sinking of a fleet. Hol", "to\nlook up for a moment in mild astonishment. In a few seconds he was back\nagain, with a copy of an afternoon paper. The Imperial Rescript was set\nforth in heavy type, in parallel columns of English and German. As the\nyoung man read a deep burning flush spread over his face, then ebbed away\ninto a chalky whiteness. He read the announcement to the end, then\nhanded the paper to Yeovil, and left without a word.\n\nBeneath the courtly politeness and benignant phraseology of the document", "said Ronnie, \"they have chaste cold tastes. You are\nabsolutely mistaken.\"\n\n\"Well, I think I ought to know!\" protested the dowager; \"I've lived\nlonger in the world than you have, anyway.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ronnie with devastating truthfulness, \"but my hair has been\nthis colour longer than yours has.\"\n\nPeace was restored by the opportune arrival of a middle-aged man of blond\nNorth-German type, with an expression of brutality on his rather stupid\nface, who sat in the", "Cafe, the\nnew building that made such an imposing show (and did such thriving\nbusiness) at the lower end of what most of its patrons called the\nRegentstrasse. Though the establishment was new it had already achieved\nits unwritten code of customs, and the sanctity of Herr von Kwarl's\nspecially reserved table had acquired the authority of a tradition. A\nset of chessmen, a copy of the Kreuz Zeitung and the Times, and a slim-\nnecked bottle of Rhenish wine, ice-cool from the cellar", "floors below,\nwhose nimbleness and audacity were as precious to him as the forwardness\nof the birds is to a skilled gun on a grouse moor. Once every day Wotan\ncame marching in stately fashion across the polished floor, halted mid-\nway to resume an unfinished toilet operation, and then proceeded to pay\nhis leisurely respects to his friend von Kwarl. The latter was said to\nbe prouder of this daily demonstration of esteem than of his many coveted\norders of merit. ", "of an incautious move, and, after several woebegone\ncontortions of his shoulders and hands, declined further contest. A\nsleek-headed piccolo rushed forward to remove the board, and the\nerstwhile combatants resumed the courteous dignity that they discarded in\ntheir chess-playing moments.\n\n\"Have you seen the Germania to-day?\" asked Herr Rebinok, as soon as the\nboy had receded to a respectful distance.\n\n\"No,\" said von Kwarl, \"I never see the Germania", "Several of his friends and acquaintances shared with\nhim the distinction of having achieved the Black Eagle, but not one of\nthem had ever succeeded in obtaining the slightest recognition of their\nexistence from Wotan.\n\nThe daily greeting had been exchanged and the proud grey beast had\nmarched away to the music of a slumberous purr. The Kreuz Zeitung and\nthe Times underwent a final scrutiny and were pushed aside, and von Kwarl\nglanced aimlessly out at the July sunshine bathing the walls and windows\nof the Picc", "Manchester,\nHamburg, Bremen, Bristol, and so forth. Below these came shelves on\nwhich stood a wonderful array of stone beer-mugs, each decorated with\nsome fantastic device or motto, and most of them pertaining individually\nand sacredly to some regular and unfailing customer. In one particular\ncorner of the highest shelf, greatly at his ease and in nowise to be\ndisturbed, slept Wotan, the huge grey house-cat, dreaming doubtless of\ncertain nimble and audacious mice down in the cellar three", ", as you say,\" replied Yeovil; then he added the\nquestion, \"Are you German?\"\n\n\"No, Hungarian,\" said the other; \"and you, you are English?\" he asked.\n\n\"I have been much in England, but I am from Russia,\" said Yeovil,\npurposely misleading his companion on the subject of his nationality in\norder to induce him to talk with greater freedom on a delicate topic.\nWhile living among foreigners in a foreign land he had shrunk from\nhearing his country's disaster discussed, or even alluded to", "a holiday and was asked down to country\nhouses and shown the tennis court and the rock-garden and the younger\nchildren. Listen. I once heard it solemnly stated at an after-dinner\ndebate in some literary club that a certain very prominent German\nstatesman had a daughter at school in England, and that future friendly\nrelations between the two countries were improved in prospect, if not\nassured, by that circumstance. You think I am laughing; I am recording a\nfact, and the men present were politicians and statesmen as well as\nliterary" ] ]

[ "Which war is predicted?", "Who is William?", "What literary genre flourished at the beginning of the 20th century?", "What is much of the story an argument for?", "What was the hero told by his hostess?", "What happens when the hero walks on the grass in Hyde Park?", "What story is another example of invasion literature?", "What does the Imperial Rescript announce?", "From which House did Kaiser Wilhilm descend?", "Where does William come from? ", "Who invaded london?", "What war is predicted ?", "What type of literary genre is being focused on?", "What the primary argument being emphasized?", "Who is the leader of the Armies in london?", "Which systems of law are being differentiated?", "Why is the hero fined?", "What kind of nations were tensions risen between?", "Who is the hero found fraternizing with?", "Where is the story set?", "Which foreign country's army invaded London?", "Which war does the story predict?", "What does the hostess tell the hero she must do?", "What does the story generally argue?", "Why is the hero fined immediately?", "Where was the hero fined?", "In what army are the un-military British excused from serving in?", "Who does the hero inevitably end up socializing with?", "What house does Kaiser Wilhelm II come from?" ]

[ [ "The Great War.", "The Great War." ], [ "Kaiser Wilhelm II.", "Kaiser Wlihelm II" ], [ "Invasion literature.", "invasion literature" ], [ "Compulsory military service.", "compulsory military service" ], [ "That she must register his presence in her house with the police.", "That she has to register him staying in her home to the with the police. " ], [ "He is fined without delay right there in the park.", "he's fined" ], [ "The Riddle of the Sands.", "The Riddle of the Sands" ], [ "That the British are excused from serving in the Kaiser's armies. ", "The British are excused from serving in the Kaiser's armies. " ], [ "The House of Hohenzollern.", "House of Honenzollern" ], [ "House of Hohenzollern", "the House of Hohenzollem" ], [ "Foreign army", "Germany." ], [ "The Great War", "The Great War." ], [ "Invasion Literature", "Invasion Literature" ], [ "Compulsory Military Service", "Compulsory military service." ], [ "Kaiser", "Kaiser's" ], [ "English and Continental ", "English and European " ], [ "Walking on the grass in Hyde Park.", "For walking on the grass in Hyde Park" ], [ "European nations", "European" ], [ "An invader", "An invader" ], [ "London", "London" ], [ "Germany", "German" ], [ "The Great War", "the great war " ], [ "Register his presence under the roof with the police", "register his presence in her home with the police" ], [ "Compulsory military service ", "Required military service" ], [ "For walking on the grass ", "He walked on Hyde Park's grass" ], [ "In Hyde Park", "Hyde Park." ], [ "The Kaiser's armies", "The Kaiser's " ], [ "An invader", "one of the invaders" ], [ "Hohenzollern", "House Hohenzollern" ] ]

[ [ "the Count. It all lies in that, do not you see?\n\n\"'Every time my eyes met his I should see my sin in them, even when his\nwere full of love. The greatness of his generosity would be the measure\nof the greatness of my crime. My eyes, always uneasy, would be for ever\nreading an invisible condemnation. My heart would be full of confused\nand struggling memories; marriage can never move me to the cruel\nrapture, the mortal delirium of passion. I should kill my husband by\nmy coldness, by compar", "in the wreck\nof the _Cecile_, the ship in which you sailed for Havana to secure the\nfortune to be left to you by an old aunt, who might have forgotten\nyou; you embarked, escorted by two ladies of her family and an old\nman-servant. The Count says that he has sent agents to various spots,\nand received letters which give him great hopes. He takes as many\nprecautions to hide you from all eyes as you take yourself. In short, he\nobeys you...'\n\n\"'That is enough,' she said. '", "\nheart. Under his austere manner, under the reserve of the magistrate, a\npassion rebelled, though coerced with such force that no one but I\nwho lived with him ever guessed the secret. His motto seemed to be,\n'I suffer, and am silent.' The escort of respect and admiration\nwhich attended him; the friendship of workers as valiant as\nhimself--Grandville and Serizy, both presiding judges--had no hold over\nthe Count: either he told them nothing, or they knew all. Impassible and\nlofty in", "Count, who for nine years has never allowed himself to be seen here,\nwill never go there without your permission. You have his sublime\ndevotion of nine years as a guarantee for your tranquillity. You may\ntherefore discuss the future in perfect confidence with my uncle and\nme. My uncle has as much influence as a Minister of State. So compose\nyourself; do not exaggerate your misfortune. A priest whose hair has\ngrown white in the exercise of his functions is not a boy; you will be\nunderstood by him to whom every passion has been confided", "\"I suffered the revelations of my sorrows to be dragged from me with as\nmany grimaces as a young lady allows herself before sitting down to the\npiano, so conscious are they of the annoyance that will follow. As\nyou may imagine, the necessity for overcoming my dislike to speak had\ninduced the Countess to strengthen the bonds of our intimacy; but she\nfound in me so exact a counterpart of her own antipathy to love, that\nI fancied she was well content with the chance which had brought to her\ndesert island a sort of Man Friday", ". It was sorrow and not despondency that dwelt in that really great\nsoul. The Count had understood that actions, deeds, are the supreme law\nof social man. And he went on his way in spite of secret wounds, looking\nto the future with a tranquil eye, like a martyr full of faith.\n\n\"His concealed sadness, the bitter disenchantment from which he\nsuffered, had not led him into philosophical deserts of incredulity;\nthis brave statesman was religious, without ostentation; he always\nattended", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "public, the Count betrayed the man only on rare intervals when,\nalone in his garden or his study, he supposed himself unobserved; but\nthen he was a child again, he gave course to the tears hidden beneath\nthe toga, to the excitement which, if wrongly interpreted, might have\ndamaged his credit for perspicacity as a statesman.\n\n\"When all this had become to me a matter of certainty, Comte Octave had\nall the attractions of a problem, and won on my affection as much as\nthough he had been my own father. Can you enter", "by the Count to take him into confidence in any case\nwhere I deemed his interference necessary. I engaged a garden; I devoted\nmyself to horticulture; I worked frantically, like a man whom nothing\ncan divert, turning up the soil of the market-garden, and appropriating\nthe ground to the culture of flowers. Like the maniacs of England, or\nof Holland, I gave it out that I was devoted to one kind of flower, and\nespecially grew dahlias, collecting every variety. You will understand\nthat my conduct, even in the smallest details,", ", and manias become the subject of\ninvoluntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less\nthan a marriage.\n\n\"During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I\nlearned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years\nold. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety\nof his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and\nof stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man--an\nextraordinary man to those who knew him well", "\nI detected a metamorphosis of a reverse kind in the Count's face; at the\nfirst glance I thought he was about fifty-five, but after an attentive\nexamination I found youth entombed under the ice of a great sorrow,\nunder the fatigue of persistent study, under the glowing hues of some\nsuppressed passion. At a word from my uncle the Count's eyes recovered\nfor a moment the softness of the periwinkle flower, and he had an\nadmiring smile, which revealed what I believed to be his real age, about\n", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "to what his\nreally were. His profession, rank, luxury, fortune, and style of living\nwere the same; all these details are true, but I would not be false to\nmy benefactor, nor to my usual habits of discretion.\n\n\"Instead of feeling--as I really was, socially speaking--an insect in\nthe presence of an eagle,\" the narrator went on after a pause, \"I felt I\nknow not what indefinable impression from the Count's appearance,\nwhich, however, I can now account for. Artists of genius\" (and", "very ugly, but very amiable. It is quite possible that this\npriest encourages his nephew, as they say in the neighborhood, in his\nlove of flowers, that nothing worse may happen----'\n\n\"'Why--what?'\n\n\"'Well, your neighbor is a little cracked!' said Gobain, tapping her\nhead!\n\n\"Now a harmless lunatic is the only man whom no woman ever distrusts\nin the matter of sentiment. You will see how wise the Count had been in\nchoosing this disguise for me.\n\n\"'What", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", "ange suspicions, suspicions that were all the better founded because\nI never found that the Count invested his savings. Is it not shocking to\nthink of? I was constituting myself my patron's censor. At that time I\nknew that he had more than six hundred thousand francs to invest; and\nif he had bought securities of any kind, his confidence in me was so\ncomplete in all that concerned his pecuniary interests, that I certainly\nshould have known it.\n\n\"Sometimes, in the morning, the Count took exercise in his garden, to\nand", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "say the least. M. de Grandville's remark had been like a\ntorch flung into the caverns over which I had so long been walking; and\nthough the flame lighted them but dimly, my eyes could perceive their\nwide extent! I could imagine the Count's sufferings without knowing\ntheir depths or their bitterness. That sallow face, those parched\ntemples, those overwhelming studies, those moments of absentmindedness,\nthe smallest details of the life of this married bachelor, all stood out\nin luminous relief during the hour of", "would have been superfluous between\nus. This shade shows the character of our relations. And yet we had not\nyet unlimited confidence in each other; he did not open to me the vast\nsubterranean chambers which I had detected in his secret life; and\nI, for my part, never said to him, 'What ails you? From what are you\nsuffering?'\n\n\"What could he be doing during those long evenings? He would often come\nin on foot or in a hackney cab when I returned in a carriage--I, his\nsecretary!", "Was so pious a man a prey to vices hidden under hypocrisy?\nDid he expend all the powers of his mind to satisfy a jealousy more\ndexterous than Othello's? Did he live with some woman unworthy of him?\nOne morning, on returning from I have forgotten what shop, where I had\njust paid a bill, between the Church of Saint-Paul and the Hotel de\nVille, I came across Comte Octave in such eager conversation with an old\nwoman that he did not see me. The appearance of this hag filled me with\nstr" ], [ "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", ", Madame Gobain, the old woman of impeccable discretion whom\nI was so lucky as to find, and whose affection Honorine has won. But her\nzeal, like that of the gardener, is kept hot by the promise of reward at\nthe moment of success. The porter and his wife cost me dreadfully dear\nfor the same reasons. However, for three years Honorine has been happy,\nbelieving that she owes to her own toil all the luxury of flowers,\ndress, and comfort.\n\n\"'Oh! I know what you", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "and sends me in a bill for two thousand\nfrancs every three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with\na house on it close to the porter's lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I\nhold this ground in the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest\nindiscretion would ruin the gardener's prospects. Honorine has her\nlittle house, a garden, and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of\nfive hundred francs a year. There she lives under the name of her\nhousekeeper", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "me. Have mercy\non me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities\nthat I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne,\nwhere I can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again\nwith you. I am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the\nFaubourg Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I\nowe to her ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister\nwho will allow me to press on her brow such", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "evening at Honorine's house,\nwhither I presently returned. It was now August; the day had been hot\nand stormy, but the storm hung overhead, the sky was like copper; the\nscent of the flowers was heavy, I felt as if I were in an oven, and\ncaught myself wishing that the Countess might have set out for the\nIndies; but she was sitting on a wooden bench shaped like a sofa, under\nan arbor, in a loose dress of white muslin fastened with blue bows,\nher hair unadorned in waving", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "the kneeling\nchair are all they need.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said Leon de Lora; \"but good-for-nothing as I may be, I\ncannot help admiring a woman who is capable, as that one was, of living\nby the side of a studio, under a painter's roof, and never coming down,\nnor seeing the world, nor dipping her feet in the street mud.\"\n\n\"Such a thing has been known--for a few months,\" said Claude Vignon,\nwith deep irony.\n\n\"Comtesse Honorine is", "to chat with the old woman, to\nhear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest\nword she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the\nsecrets of that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious;\nshe attends the Church services and prays, but she has never been to\nconfession or taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would\ntell her. She will not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she\nshould return to me. This horror", "the head had a stamp of nobleness\nwhich would defy the outrages of time.\n\n\"Though slight, Honorine was not thin, and her figure struck me as\nbeing one that might revive love when it believed itself exhausted. She\nperfectly represented the idea conveyed by the word _mignonne_, for she\nwas one of those pliant little women who allow themselves to be taken\nup, petted, set down, and taken up again like a kitten. Her small feet,\nas I heard them on the gravel, made a light sound essentially their", "in our last quite friendly discussion, the Countess had\nexclaimed:\n\n\"'Lucretia's dagger wrote in letters of blood the watchword of woman's\ncharter: _Liberty!_'\n\n\"From that moment the Count left me free to act.\n\n\"'I have been paid a hundred francs for the flowers and caps I made this\nweek!' Honorine exclaimed gleefully one Saturday evening when I went\nto visit her in the little sitting-room on the ground floor, which the\nunavowed proprietor had had regilt.\n\n", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "lashes. Merely by\nlifting her delicate eyelids, Honorine could cast a spell; there was\nso much feeling, dignity, terror, or contempt in her way of raising or\ndropping those veils of the soul. She could freeze or give life by a\nlook. Her light-brown hair, carelessly knotted on her head, outlined\na poet's brow, high, powerful, and dreamy. The mouth was wholly\nvoluptuous. And to crown all by a grace, rare in France, though common\nin Italy, all the lines and forms of", "\n\"'When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married.\nOur respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court,\nhindered us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the\nfurniture; we lived on, as we had done in the past, as children.\nHowever, I went into society; I initiated my wife into the world of\nfashion; and I regarded it as one of my duties to instruct her.\n\n\"'I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such\ncircumstances as ours", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?" ], [ "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", "this satisfaction was my reward, and he could see that\nI took it so. This little incident produced an extraordinary effect on a\nsoul which seemed so stern. The Count pronounced sentence on me, to\nuse a legal phrase, as supreme and royal judge; he took my head in his\nhands, and kissed me on the forehead.\n\n\"'Maurice,' he exclaimed, 'you are no longer my apprentice; I know not\nyet what you will be to me--but if no change occurs in my life, perhaps\nyou will take the place of a son.'\n", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "this couple:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--I am dying though I am a mother--perhaps because\nI am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have deceived my\nhusband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears shed by\nactresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, for\nmarriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I am\ndying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but\nI am", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", ", and\nwe were as closely attached as two men can be when one is subordinate to\nthe other. He had never spoken to me of my future prospects, but he had\ntaken an interest, both as a master and as a father, in training me. He\noften required me to collect materials for his most arduous labors;\nI drew up some of his reports, and he corrected them, showing the\ndifference between his interpretation of the law, his views and mine.\nWhen at last I had produced a document which he could give in as his own\nhe was delighted;", "happiness----'\n\n\"'My dear Octave, if you should succeed in bringing the Countess back\nto her duty, I have studied her well'--(he looked at me as Othello must\nhave looked at Iago when Iago first contrived to insinuate a suspicion\ninto the Moor's mind)--'she must never see me again; she must never know\nthat Maurice was your secretary. Never mention my name to her, or\nall will be undone.... You have got me an appointment as Maitre\ndes Requetes--well, get me instead some diplom", "the room I had in his\nhouse, and said:\n\n\"'Get yourself dressed, my dear boy; I am going to introduce you to some\none who is willing to engage you as secretary. If I am not mistaken, he\nmay fill my place in the event of God's taking me to Himself. I shall\nhave finished mass at nine o'clock; you have three-quarters of an hour\nbefore you. Be ready.'\n\n\"'What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I\nhave been so happy?'\n\n\"'", "Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.\n\n\"'Maurice.'\n\n\"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.\n\n\"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to\nfoot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first\ninstance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here\nevery Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'\n\n\"My uncle and the Count then began to talk", "oiselle,\"\nsaid the Consul, addressing Camille, \"know all the resources of art, the\ntricks of style, and the efforts made in their compositions by writers\nwho do not lack skill; but you will acknowledge that literature could\nnever find such language in its assumed pathos; there is nothing so\nterrible as truth. Here is the letter written by this woman, or rather\nby this anguish:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'I know all your uncle would say to me; he is not better informed than\nmy", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", ";\nthe look of a happy man, and the look of an unhappy man. Two or three\ntimes at such a moment he had taken me by the arm and led me on; then\nhe had said, 'What have you come to ask?' instead of pouring out his\njoy into my heart that opened to him. But more often, especially since\nI could do his work for him and write his reports, the unhappy man would\nsit for hours staring at the goldfish that swarmed in a handsome marble\nbasin in the middle of the garden, round which grew an amphitheatre\n", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "\nheart. Under his austere manner, under the reserve of the magistrate, a\npassion rebelled, though coerced with such force that no one but I\nwho lived with him ever guessed the secret. His motto seemed to be,\n'I suffer, and am silent.' The escort of respect and admiration\nwhich attended him; the friendship of workers as valiant as\nhimself--Grandville and Serizy, both presiding judges--had no hold over\nthe Count: either he told them nothing, or they knew all. Impassible and\nlofty in", ",\nnor give you a separate table, for fear of leaving you to the care of\nservants. I did not accept the offer when it was made to me till I was\nperfectly certain that Comte Octave's secretary was never to be a mere\nupper servant. You will have an immense amount of work, for the Count\nis a great worker; but when you leave him, you will be qualified to fill\nthe highest posts. I need not warn you to be discreet; that is the first\nvirtue of any man who hopes to hold public appointments.'\n\n\"You may", "ra with four lights, screened by lamp-shades, were still\nburning at the opposite ends of the writing-table, and showed plainly\nthat the magistrate rose long before daylight. His hands, which I saw\nwhen he took hold of the bell-pull to summon his servant, were extremely\nfine, and as white as a woman's.\n\n\"As I tell you this story,\" said the Consul-General, interrupting\nhimself, \"I am altering the titles and the social position of this\ngentleman, while placing him in circumstances analogous" ], [ "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", "ails him then?' asked the Countess.\n\n\"'He has studied too hard,' replied Gobain; 'he has turned misanthropic.\nAnd he has his reasons for disliking women--well, if you want to know\nall that is said about him----'\n\n\"'Well,' said Honorine, 'madmen frighten me less than sane folks; I will\nspeak to him myself! Tell him that I beg him to come here. If I do not\nsucceed, I will send for the cure.'\n\n\"The day after this conversation, as", "was laid down for me by\nthe Count, whose whole intellectual powers were directed to the most\ntrifling incidents of the tragi-comedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As\nsoon as the Countess had gone to bed, at about eleven at night, Octave,\nMadame Gobain, and I sat in council. I heard the old woman's report to\nthe Count of his wife's least proceedings during the day. He inquired\ninto everything: her meals, her occupations, her frame of mind, her\nplans for the mor", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "for nearly\nfifty years now, and who weighs in his hands the ponderous heart of\nkings and princes. If he is stern under his stole, in the presence of\nyour flowers he will be as tender as they are, and as indulgent as his\nDivine Master.'\n\n\"I left the Countess at midnight; she was apparently calm, but\ndepressed, and had some secret purpose which no perspicacity could\nguess. I found the Count a few paces off, in the Rue Saint-Maur. Drawn\nby an irresistible attraction", "and sends me in a bill for two thousand\nfrancs every three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with\na house on it close to the porter's lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I\nhold this ground in the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest\nindiscretion would ruin the gardener's prospects. Honorine has her\nlittle house, a garden, and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of\nfive hundred francs a year. There she lives under the name of her\nhousekeeper", "Count, who for nine years has never allowed himself to be seen here,\nwill never go there without your permission. You have his sublime\ndevotion of nine years as a guarantee for your tranquillity. You may\ntherefore discuss the future in perfect confidence with my uncle and\nme. My uncle has as much influence as a Minister of State. So compose\nyourself; do not exaggerate your misfortune. A priest whose hair has\ngrown white in the exercise of his functions is not a boy; you will be\nunderstood by him to whom every passion has been confided", "\n\"'You are a foolish boy,' replied the Count. 'I will send you well\ngloved. It is no secretary of mine that will be lodged in the Rue\nSaint-Maur in the little garden-house which I have at his disposal. It\nis my distant cousin, Baron de l'Hostal, a lawyer high in office...\"\n\n\"After a moment of silent surprise, I heard the gate bell ring, and a\ncarriage came into the courtyard. Presently the footman announced Madame\nde Courteville and her daughter. The Count had a large family" ], [ ", Madame Gobain, the old woman of impeccable discretion whom\nI was so lucky as to find, and whose affection Honorine has won. But her\nzeal, like that of the gardener, is kept hot by the promise of reward at\nthe moment of success. The porter and his wife cost me dreadfully dear\nfor the same reasons. However, for three years Honorine has been happy,\nbelieving that she owes to her own toil all the luxury of flowers,\ndress, and comfort.\n\n\"'Oh! I know what you", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", "\n\"'When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married.\nOur respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court,\nhindered us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the\nfurniture; we lived on, as we had done in the past, as children.\nHowever, I went into society; I initiated my wife into the world of\nfashion; and I regarded it as one of my duties to instruct her.\n\n\"'I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such\ncircumstances as ours", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "against fresh disaster--to\nfulfil my part, in short, as a guardian angel?--At the age of seven\nmonths her infant died, happily for her and for me. For nine months more\nmy wife lay between life and death, deserted at the time when she most\nneeded a manly arm; but this arm,' said he, holding out his own with a\ngesture of angelic dignity, 'was extended over her head. Honorine was\nnursed as she would have been in her own home. When, on her recovery,\nshe asked how and by whom she", "me. Have mercy\non me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities\nthat I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne,\nwhere I can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again\nwith you. I am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the\nFaubourg Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I\nowe to her ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister\nwho will allow me to press on her brow such", " GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by John Bickers, and Dagny\n\n\n\n\n\nHONORINE\n\n\nBy Honore De Balzac\n\n\n\nTranslated by Clara Bell\n\n\n\n DEDICATION\n\n To Monsieur Achille Deveria\n\n An affectionate remembrance from the Author.\n\n\n\n\n\nHONORINE\n\n\nIf the French have as great an aversion for traveling as the English\nhave a propensity for", "? Yes, dear, my affection is neither mean nor\ngrasping; it is one of those which will never let any annoyance last\nlong enough to pucker the brow of the child it worships. What can you\nthink of the companion of your childhood, Honorine, if you believe\nhim capable of accepting kisses given in trembling, of living between\ndelight and anxiety? Do not fear that you will be exposed to the laments\nof a suppliant passion; I would not want you back until I felt certain\nof my own strength to leave you in perfect freedom.\n\n\"", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "odor of virtue, and the light in her eyes, the prettiness of her\nmovements, I fled like a man preparing to violate a tomb, who sees\nemerging from it the transfigured soul of the dead. At consultations,\nin Court, by night, I dream so incessantly of Honorine that only by\nexcessive strength of mind do I succeed in attending to what I am doing\nand saying. This is the secret of my labors.\n\n\"'Well, I felt no more anger with her than a father can feel on seeing\nhis beloved child", "of me overwhelms me, dismays me, for I\nhave never done her the smallest harm. I have always been kind to her.\nGranting even that I may have been a little hasty when teaching her,\nthat my man's irony may have hurt her legitimate girlish pride, is\nthat a reason for persisting in a determination which only the most\nimplacable hatred could have inspired? Honorine has never told Madame\nGobain who she is; she keeps absolute silence as to her marriage, so\nthat the worthy and respectable woman can never speak a word in", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", "and sends me in a bill for two thousand\nfrancs every three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with\na house on it close to the porter's lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I\nhold this ground in the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest\nindiscretion would ruin the gardener's prospects. Honorine has her\nlittle house, a garden, and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of\nfive hundred francs a year. There she lives under the name of her\nhousekeeper", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "whose arms she could\nthrow herself.'\n\n\"'You are young,' he answered; 'you do not know that in a soul tossed by\nsuch dreadful alternatives the will is like waters of a lake lashed by a\ntempest; the wind changes every instant, and the waves are driven now to\none shore, now to the other. During this night the chances are quite\nas great that on seeing me Honorine might rush into my arms as that she\nwould throw herself out of the window.'\n\n\"'And you would accept the equal chances,' said I.\n\n\"'Well," ], [ "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "s hesitancy under\na pride of appearance which was flattering to me.\n\n\"'During a long quarter of an hour we both of us were possessed by an\ninvoluntary nervous trembling as great as that which seizes a speaker on\nthe platform, and we spoke to each other sacred phrases, like those of\npersons taken by surprise who \"make believe\" a conversation.\n\n\"'\"You see, Honorine,\" said I, my eyes full of tears, \"the ice is\nbroken, and I am so tremulous with happiness that you must forgive the\ninco", "\"I suffered the revelations of my sorrows to be dragged from me with as\nmany grimaces as a young lady allows herself before sitting down to the\npiano, so conscious are they of the annoyance that will follow. As\nyou may imagine, the necessity for overcoming my dislike to speak had\ninduced the Countess to strengthen the bonds of our intimacy; but she\nfound in me so exact a counterpart of her own antipathy to love, that\nI fancied she was well content with the chance which had brought to her\ndesert island a sort of Man Friday", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "this couple:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--I am dying though I am a mother--perhaps because\nI am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have deceived my\nhusband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears shed by\nactresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, for\nmarriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I am\ndying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but\nI am", "not seemed to wish to marry.\nNevertheless, after living in the town for two years, and after certain\nsteps taken by the Ambassador during his visits to the Genoese Court,\nthe marriage was decided on. The young man withdrew his former refusal,\nless on account of the touching affection of Onorina Pedrotti than by\nreason of an unknown incident, one of those crises of private life which\nare so instantly buried under the daily tide of interests that, at a\nsubsequent date, the most natural actions seem inexplicable.\n\nThis involution of causes sometimes", "to finish reading it.\nMy uncle signed to me, and I rose.\n\n\"'Let us leave the Countess,' said he.\n\n\"'You are going already Maurice?' she said, without looking at me.\n\n\"She rose, and still reading, followed us to the door. On the threshold\nshe took my hand, pressed it very affectionately, and said, 'We shall\nmeet again...'\n\n\"'No,' I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. 'You love\nyour husband. I leave to-morrow.'\n\n\"", "in some danger it has imprudently rushed into. I\nunderstood that I had made a poem of my wife--a poem I delighted in\nwith such intoxication, that I fancied she shared the intoxication. Ah!\nMaurice, an indiscriminating passion in a husband is a mistake that may\nlead to any crime in a wife. I had no doubt left all the faculties of\nthis child, loved as a child, entirely unemployed; I had perhaps wearied\nher with my love before the hour of loving had struck for her! Too young\nto", ", that she\nshould resume her rank and live in our new residence, she was seized\nwith alarm.\n\n\"'\"Why not live always as we are?\" she said.\n\n\"'I submitted without saying a word.\n\n\"'\"Is she making an experiment?\" I asked myself as I left her. On my way\nfrom my own house to the Rue Saint-Maur thoughts of love had swelled in\nmy heart, and I had said to myself, like a young man, \"This evening she\nwill yield.\"\n\n\"'All my real or affected force was blown to the winds", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "and no victory.\n\n\"Of the plains of Champagne and the snowy, storm-beaten but sublime\nAlps, what young man would choose the chalky, monotonous level? No; such\ncomparisons are fatal and wrong on the threshold of the Mairie. Alas!\nonly the experience of life can teach us that marriage excludes passion,\nthat a family cannot have its foundation on the tempests of love. After\nhaving dreamed of impossible love, with its infinite caprices, after\nhaving tasted the tormenting delights of", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "Though the ambassador\nwas a distinguished man of letters, the celebrated lady had refused to\nyield to his advances, dreading what the English call an exhibition;\nbut she had drawn in the claws of her refusals when it was proposed that\nthey should spend a farewell day at the Consul's villa. Leon de Lora had\ntold Camille that her presence at the villa was the only return he\ncould make to the Ambassador and his wife, the two Genoese noblemen, the\nConsul and his wife. So Mademoiselle des Touches", "'\"Would you like that we should be married? With me you could do\nwhatever you please, while another man would make you unhappy.\"\n\n\"'\"Mamma,\" said she to my mother, who came out to join us, \"Octave and I\nhave agreed to be married----\"\n\n\"'\"What! at seventeen?\" said my mother. \"No, you must wait eighteen\nmonths; and if eighteen months hence you like each other, well, your\nbirth and fortunes are equal, you can make a marriage which is suitable,\nas well as being a love match.\"\n", "the Count. It all lies in that, do not you see?\n\n\"'Every time my eyes met his I should see my sin in them, even when his\nwere full of love. The greatness of his generosity would be the measure\nof the greatness of my crime. My eyes, always uneasy, would be for ever\nreading an invisible condemnation. My heart would be full of confused\nand struggling memories; marriage can never move me to the cruel\nrapture, the mortal delirium of passion. I should kill my husband by\nmy coldness, by compar" ], [ "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "Consul, and was immediately\njoined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:\n\n\"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied she, whispering to Claude these words: \"for he has not yet\nguessed that Honorine would have loved him.--Oh!\" she exclaimed, seeing\nthe Consul's wife approaching, \"his wife was listening! Unhappy man!\"\n\nEleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot\nalong the seashore.", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", ", all in that woman; the enchanting divinities in the\ntrain of Love, with whom we pass our life, and who form the daily poem\nof a fugitive delight. By a phenomenon of retrospection I see now the\ngraces of Honorine's mind and heart, to which I paid little heed in the\ntime of my happiness--like all who are happy. From day to day I have\nappreciated the extent of my loss, discovering the exquisite gifts of\nthat capricious and refractory young creature who has grown so strong\nand so", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "by a smile, by a\ncommand from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered\nthe terrible words you once quoted to me, \"Lucretia's dagger wrote in\nletters of blood the watchword of woman's charter--Liberty!\" and\nthey froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine's\nconsent, and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess\nthe storms that distracted me when I left as when I came?\n\n\"'At last I painted my situation in", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "and sends me in a bill for two thousand\nfrancs every three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with\na house on it close to the porter's lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I\nhold this ground in the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest\nindiscretion would ruin the gardener's prospects. Honorine has her\nlittle house, a garden, and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of\nfive hundred francs a year. There she lives under the name of her\nhousekeeper", "? Yes, dear, my affection is neither mean nor\ngrasping; it is one of those which will never let any annoyance last\nlong enough to pucker the brow of the child it worships. What can you\nthink of the companion of your childhood, Honorine, if you believe\nhim capable of accepting kisses given in trembling, of living between\ndelight and anxiety? Do not fear that you will be exposed to the laments\nof a suppliant passion; I would not want you back until I felt certain\nof my own strength to leave you in perfect freedom.\n\n\"", "against fresh disaster--to\nfulfil my part, in short, as a guardian angel?--At the age of seven\nmonths her infant died, happily for her and for me. For nine months more\nmy wife lay between life and death, deserted at the time when she most\nneeded a manly arm; but this arm,' said he, holding out his own with a\ngesture of angelic dignity, 'was extended over her head. Honorine was\nnursed as she would have been in her own home. When, on her recovery,\nshe asked how and by whom she", "on the window curtains.\n\n\"'She left my house, choosing to take nothing but the dress she wore\nthat day. The child carried her magnanimity to the point of folly!\nConsequently, eighteen months after her flight she was deserted by her\nlover, who was appalled by the cold, cruel, sinister, and revolting\naspect of poverty--the coward! The man had, no doubt, counted on the\neasy and luxurious life in Switzerland or Italy which fine ladies\nindulge in when they leave their husbands. Honorine has sixty thousand", "evening at Honorine's house,\nwhither I presently returned. It was now August; the day had been hot\nand stormy, but the storm hung overhead, the sky was like copper; the\nscent of the flowers was heavy, I felt as if I were in an oven, and\ncaught myself wishing that the Countess might have set out for the\nIndies; but she was sitting on a wooden bench shaped like a sofa, under\nan arbor, in a loose dress of white muslin fastened with blue bows,\nher hair unadorned in waving" ], [ "oiselle,\"\nsaid the Consul, addressing Camille, \"know all the resources of art, the\ntricks of style, and the efforts made in their compositions by writers\nwho do not lack skill; but you will acknowledge that literature could\nnever find such language in its assumed pathos; there is nothing so\nterrible as truth. Here is the letter written by this woman, or rather\nby this anguish:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'I know all your uncle would say to me; he is not better informed than\nmy", "the conversation which led the Consul-General to speak, it will\nnot be out of place to give some account of him and his family.\n\nThis diplomate, a man of four-and-thirty, who had been married about six\nyears, was the living portrait of Lord Byron. The familiarity of that\nface makes a description of the Consul's unnecessary. It may, however,\nbe noted that there was no affectation in his dreamy expression. Lord\nByron was a poet, and the Consul was poetical; women know and recognize\nthe difference, which", "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", "of the finest flowers. He, an accomplished statesman, seemed to have\nsucceeded in making a passion of the mechanical amusement of crumbling\nbread to fishes.\n\n\"This is how the drama was disclosed of this second inner life, so\ndeeply ravaged and storm-tossed, where, in a circle overlooked by Dante\nin his _Inferno_, horrible joys had their birth.\"\n\nThe Consul-General paused.\n\n\n\n\"On a certain Monday,\" he resumed, \"as chance would have it, M. le\nPres", "consumed by remorse. In the\nRue Payenne I was dying of the joys I had not; now I shall die in Italy\nof the joys I have had.... Wherein lay the discord between two natures,\nequally noble, I dare assert?'\"\n\nFor some minutes profound silence reigned on the terrace.\n\nThen the Consul, turning to the two women, asked, \"Was she virtuous?\"\n\nMademoiselle des Touches rose, took the Consul's arm, went a few steps\naway, and said to him:\n\n", "ra with four lights, screened by lamp-shades, were still\nburning at the opposite ends of the writing-table, and showed plainly\nthat the magistrate rose long before daylight. His hands, which I saw\nwhen he took hold of the bell-pull to summon his servant, were extremely\nfine, and as white as a woman's.\n\n\"As I tell you this story,\" said the Consul-General, interrupting\nhimself, \"I am altering the titles and the social position of this\ngentleman, while placing him in circumstances analogous", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "atic post abroad, a\nconsulship, and do not think of my marrying Amelie.--Oh! do not be\nuneasy,' I added, seeing him draw himself up, 'I will play my part to\nthe end.'\n\n\"'Poor boy!' said he, taking my hand, which he pressed, while he kept\nback the tears that were starting to his eyes.\n\n\"'You gave me the gloves,' I said, laughing, 'but I have not put them\non; that is all.'\n\n\"We then agreed as to what I was to do that", "And I rushed away, leaving my uncle, to whom she said:\n\n\"'Why, what is the matter with your nephew?'\n\n\"The good Abbe completed my work by pointing to his head and heart, as\nmuch as to say, 'He is mad, madame; you must forgive him!' and with all\nthe more truth, because he really thought it.\n\n\"Six days after, I set out with an appointment as vice-consul in Spain,\nin a large commercial town, where I could quickly qualify to rise in the\ncareer of a consul,", "Though the ambassador\nwas a distinguished man of letters, the celebrated lady had refused to\nyield to his advances, dreading what the English call an exhibition;\nbut she had drawn in the claws of her refusals when it was proposed that\nthey should spend a farewell day at the Consul's villa. Leon de Lora had\ntold Camille that her presence at the villa was the only return he\ncould make to the Ambassador and his wife, the two Genoese noblemen, the\nConsul and his wife. So Mademoiselle des Touches", "affects the most serious events of\nhistory. This, at any rate, was the opinion of the town of Genoa, where,\nto some women, the extreme reserve, the melancholy of the French Consul\ncould be explained only by the word passion. It may be remarked, in\npassing, that women never complain of being the victims of a preference;\nthey are very ready to immolate themselves for the common weal. Onorina\nPedrotti, who might have hated the Consul if she had been altogether\nscorned, loved her _sposo_ no less, and", "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", "I have no fortune to leave you,' said he.\n\n\"'Have you not the reputation of your name to leave me, the memory of\nyour good works----?'\n\n\"'We need say nothing of that inheritance,' he replied, smiling. 'You do\nnot yet know enough of the world to be aware that a legacy of that kind\nis hardly likely to be paid, whereas by taking you this morning to M. le\nComte'--Allow me,\" said the Consul, interrupting himself, \"to speak\nof my protector by his Christian name only, and to call him Com", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "Do\nnot mourn for me; I have been dead this many a day, if Saint Bernard\nwas right in saying that where there is no more love there is no more\nlife.'\"\n\n\"And the Countess died,\" said the Consul, putting away the letters and\nlocking the pocket-book.\n\n\"Is the Count still living?\" asked the Ambassador, \"for since the\nrevolution of July he has disappeared from the political stage.\"\n\n\"Do you remember, Monsieur de Lora,\" said the Consul-General, \"having\nseen me going to the steamb", "this satisfaction was my reward, and he could see that\nI took it so. This little incident produced an extraordinary effect on a\nsoul which seemed so stern. The Count pronounced sentence on me, to\nuse a legal phrase, as supreme and royal judge; he took my head in his\nhands, and kissed me on the forehead.\n\n\"'Maurice,' he exclaimed, 'you are no longer my apprentice; I know not\nyet what you will be to me--but if no change occurs in my life, perhaps\nyou will take the place of a son.'\n", "Countess?' he said to me in a whisper, as\nhe took me by the hand and introduced me to Madame de Courteville and\nher daughter.\n\n\"I was dazzled, not so much by these advantages of which I had never\ndreamed, but by Amelie de Courteville, whose beauty was thrown into\nrelief by one of those well-chosen toilets which a mother can achieve\nfor a daughter when she wants to see her married.\n\n\"But I will not talk of myself,\" said the Consul after a pause.\n\n\"Three weeks", ", for it seems to me childish to practise with the scalpel on\nan imaginary body. Begin by dissecting a corpse.\"\n\nEvery one prepared to listen, with all the greater readiness because\nthey had all talked enough, and this is the moment to be chosen for\ntelling a story. This, then, is the Consul-General's tale:--\n\n\"When I was two-and-twenty, and had taken my degree in law, my old\nuncle, the Abbe Loraux, then seventy-two years old, felt it necessary\nto provide", "degrading\nto be believed.\n\nPedrotti's daughter gave him her love as a consolation; she lulled these\nunknown griefs in a cradle of tenderness and Italian caresses.\n\nIl Signor Pedrotti had indeed no reason to complain of the choice to\nwhich he was driven by his beloved child. Powerful protectors in Paris\nwatched over the young diplomate's fortunes. In accordance with a\npromise made by the Ambassador to the Consul-General's father-in-law,\nthe young man was created Baron", "ent-minded for a perfectly happy man.\n\nAlthough, throughout the day, the husband and wife had offered her the\npleasing spectacle of complete happiness, Camille wondered why one of\nthe most superior men she had ever met, and whom she had seen too\nin Paris drawing-rooms, remained as Consul-General at Genoa when he\npossessed a fortune of a hundred odd thousand francs a year. But, at the\nsame time, she had discerned, by many of the little nothings which women\nperceive with the intelligence of the Arab sage in _Zad" ], [ "to chat with the old woman, to\nhear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest\nword she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the\nsecrets of that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious;\nshe attends the Church services and prays, but she has never been to\nconfession or taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would\ntell her. She will not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she\nshould return to me. This horror", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "? Yes, dear, my affection is neither mean nor\ngrasping; it is one of those which will never let any annoyance last\nlong enough to pucker the brow of the child it worships. What can you\nthink of the companion of your childhood, Honorine, if you believe\nhim capable of accepting kisses given in trembling, of living between\ndelight and anxiety? Do not fear that you will be exposed to the laments\nof a suppliant passion; I would not want you back until I felt certain\nof my own strength to leave you in perfect freedom.\n\n\"", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", "of me overwhelms me, dismays me, for I\nhave never done her the smallest harm. I have always been kind to her.\nGranting even that I may have been a little hasty when teaching her,\nthat my man's irony may have hurt her legitimate girlish pride, is\nthat a reason for persisting in a determination which only the most\nimplacable hatred could have inspired? Honorine has never told Madame\nGobain who she is; she keeps absolute silence as to her marriage, so\nthat the worthy and respectable woman can never speak a word in", "by a smile, by a\ncommand from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered\nthe terrible words you once quoted to me, \"Lucretia's dagger wrote in\nletters of blood the watchword of woman's charter--Liberty!\" and\nthey froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine's\nconsent, and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess\nthe storms that distracted me when I left as when I came?\n\n\"'At last I painted my situation in", "me. Have mercy\non me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities\nthat I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne,\nwhere I can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again\nwith you. I am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the\nFaubourg Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I\nowe to her ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister\nwho will allow me to press on her brow such", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "ails him then?' asked the Countess.\n\n\"'He has studied too hard,' replied Gobain; 'he has turned misanthropic.\nAnd he has his reasons for disliking women--well, if you want to know\nall that is said about him----'\n\n\"'Well,' said Honorine, 'madmen frighten me less than sane folks; I will\nspeak to him myself! Tell him that I beg him to come here. If I do not\nsucceed, I will send for the cure.'\n\n\"The day after this conversation, as", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", "as man can fall. A few days since I\nwas seriously considering the horrible end of the story of Lovelace and\nClarissa Harlowe, and saying to myself, if Honorine were the mother of a\nchild of mine, must she not necessarily return under her husband's roof?\n\n\"'And I have such complete faith in a happy future, that ten months\nago I bought and paid for one of the handsomest houses in the Faubourg\nSaint-Honore. If I win back Honorine, I will not allow her to see this\nhouse again, nor", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "odor of virtue, and the light in her eyes, the prettiness of her\nmovements, I fled like a man preparing to violate a tomb, who sees\nemerging from it the transfigured soul of the dead. At consultations,\nin Court, by night, I dream so incessantly of Honorine that only by\nexcessive strength of mind do I succeed in attending to what I am doing\nand saying. This is the secret of my labors.\n\n\"'Well, I felt no more anger with her than a father can feel on seeing\nhis beloved child", ", Madame Gobain, the old woman of impeccable discretion whom\nI was so lucky as to find, and whose affection Honorine has won. But her\nzeal, like that of the gardener, is kept hot by the promise of reward at\nthe moment of success. The porter and his wife cost me dreadfully dear\nfor the same reasons. However, for three years Honorine has been happy,\nbelieving that she owes to her own toil all the luxury of flowers,\ndress, and comfort.\n\n\"'Oh! I know what you", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce" ], [ "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", "this couple:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--I am dying though I am a mother--perhaps because\nI am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have deceived my\nhusband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears shed by\nactresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, for\nmarriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I am\ndying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but\nI am", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", "rejoicings, in its habits, and in its pleasures, is severer than the\nCode and the Church; the world punishes a blunder after encouraging\nhypocrisy. The whole economy of the law on marriage seems to me to\nrequire reconstruction from the bottom to the top. The French law would\nbe perfect perhaps if it excluded daughters from inheriting.'\n\n\"'We three among us know the question very thoroughly,' said the Comte\nde Grandville with a laugh. 'I have a wife I cannot live with. Serizy\nhas a wife who will not live with", "to finish reading it.\nMy uncle signed to me, and I rose.\n\n\"'Let us leave the Countess,' said he.\n\n\"'You are going already Maurice?' she said, without looking at me.\n\n\"She rose, and still reading, followed us to the door. On the threshold\nshe took my hand, pressed it very affectionately, and said, 'We shall\nmeet again...'\n\n\"'No,' I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. 'You love\nyour husband. I leave to-morrow.'\n\n\"", "oiselle,\"\nsaid the Consul, addressing Camille, \"know all the resources of art, the\ntricks of style, and the efforts made in their compositions by writers\nwho do not lack skill; but you will acknowledge that literature could\nnever find such language in its assumed pathos; there is nothing so\nterrible as truth. Here is the letter written by this woman, or rather\nby this anguish:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'I know all your uncle would say to me; he is not better informed than\nmy", "and the reserve of a boy.--My dear fellow, society only laughs at such\na desperate conjugal predicament. Where it pities a lover, it regards a\nhusband as ridiculously inept; it makes sport of those who cannot keep\nthe woman they have secured under the canopy of the Church, and before\nthe Maire's scarf of office. And I had to keep silence.\n\n\"'Serizy is happy. His indulgence allows him to see his wife; he can\nprotect and defend her; and, as he adores her, he", "in some danger it has imprudently rushed into. I\nunderstood that I had made a poem of my wife--a poem I delighted in\nwith such intoxication, that I fancied she shared the intoxication. Ah!\nMaurice, an indiscriminating passion in a husband is a mistake that may\nlead to any crime in a wife. I had no doubt left all the faculties of\nthis child, loved as a child, entirely unemployed; I had perhaps wearied\nher with my love before the hour of loving had struck for her! Too young\nto", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", "\"Are not men wrong too when they come to us and make a young girl a wife\nwhile cherishing at the bottom of their heart some angelic image, and\ncomparing us to those unknown rivals, to perfections often borrowed from\na remembrance, and always finding us wanting?\"\n\n\"Mademoiselle, you would be right if marriage were based on passion; and\nthat was the mistake of those two, who will soon be no more. Marriage\nwith heart-deep love on both sides would be Paradise.\"\n\nMademoiselle des Touches turned from the", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", "\n\"'When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married.\nOur respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court,\nhindered us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the\nfurniture; we lived on, as we had done in the past, as children.\nHowever, I went into society; I initiated my wife into the world of\nfashion; and I regarded it as one of my duties to instruct her.\n\n\"'I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such\ncircumstances as ours", "and no victory.\n\n\"Of the plains of Champagne and the snowy, storm-beaten but sublime\nAlps, what young man would choose the chalky, monotonous level? No; such\ncomparisons are fatal and wrong on the threshold of the Mairie. Alas!\nonly the experience of life can teach us that marriage excludes passion,\nthat a family cannot have its foundation on the tempests of love. After\nhaving dreamed of impossible love, with its infinite caprices, after\nhaving tasted the tormenting delights of" ], [ "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", "this satisfaction was my reward, and he could see that\nI took it so. This little incident produced an extraordinary effect on a\nsoul which seemed so stern. The Count pronounced sentence on me, to\nuse a legal phrase, as supreme and royal judge; he took my head in his\nhands, and kissed me on the forehead.\n\n\"'Maurice,' he exclaimed, 'you are no longer my apprentice; I know not\nyet what you will be to me--but if no change occurs in my life, perhaps\nyou will take the place of a son.'\n", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "the room I had in his\nhouse, and said:\n\n\"'Get yourself dressed, my dear boy; I am going to introduce you to some\none who is willing to engage you as secretary. If I am not mistaken, he\nmay fill my place in the event of God's taking me to Himself. I shall\nhave finished mass at nine o'clock; you have three-quarters of an hour\nbefore you. Be ready.'\n\n\"'What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I\nhave been so happy?'\n\n\"'", "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", ", and\nwe were as closely attached as two men can be when one is subordinate to\nthe other. He had never spoken to me of my future prospects, but he had\ntaken an interest, both as a master and as a father, in training me. He\noften required me to collect materials for his most arduous labors;\nI drew up some of his reports, and he corrected them, showing the\ndifference between his interpretation of the law, his views and mine.\nWhen at last I had produced a document which he could give in as his own\nhe was delighted;", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", "in some danger it has imprudently rushed into. I\nunderstood that I had made a poem of my wife--a poem I delighted in\nwith such intoxication, that I fancied she shared the intoxication. Ah!\nMaurice, an indiscriminating passion in a husband is a mistake that may\nlead to any crime in a wife. I had no doubt left all the faculties of\nthis child, loved as a child, entirely unemployed; I had perhaps wearied\nher with my love before the hour of loving had struck for her! Too young\nto", "at that period, any one had said to me, 'You\nwill see Canalis, or Camille Maupin,' I should have felt hot coals in\nmy head and in my bowels. Famous people were to me as gods, who neither\nspoke, nor walked, nor ate like other mortals.\n\n\"How many tales of the Thousand-and-one Nights are comprehended in the\nripening of a youth! How many wonderful lamps must we have rubbed before\nwe understand that the True Wonderful Lamp is either luck, or work, or\ngen", "My affected desire for occupation made me\nsoon skilful. We talked as we worked. When I had nothing to do, I read\nnew books to her, for I had my part to keep up as a man weary of life,\nworn out with griefs, gloomy, sceptical, and soured. My person led to\nadorable banter as to my purely physical resemblance--with the exception\nof his club foot--to Lord Byron. It was tacitly acknowledged that\nher own troubles, as to which she kept the most profound silence, far\nout", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "me with a protector, and to start me in some career. This\nexcellent man, if not indeed a saint, regarded each year of his life as\na fresh gift from God. I need not tell you that the father confessor of\na Royal Highness had no difficulty in finding a place for a young man\nbrought up by himself, his sister's only child. So one day, towards the\nend of the year 1824, this venerable old man, who for five years had\nbeen Cure of the White Friars at Paris, came up to", "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", "\ninto his house and made me study law. During the four years of study\nrequisite for passing all the examinations, I worked hard, but chiefly\nat things outside the arid fields of jurisprudence. Weaned from\nliterature as I had been at college, where I lived in the headmaster's\nhouse, I had a thirst to quench. As soon as I had read a few modern\nmasterpieces, the works of all the preceding ages were greedily\nswallowed. I became crazy about the theatre, and for a long time I went\nevery", "describe my position to you in a few words. Having found in the\nsolemn headmaster of the College Saint-Louis a tutor to whom my uncle\ndelegated his authority, at the age of eighteen I had gone through all\nthe classes; I left school as innocent as a seminarist, full of faith,\non quitting Saint-Sulpice. My mother, on her deathbed, had made my uncle\npromise that I should not become a priest, but I was as pious as though\nI had to take orders. On leaving college, the Abbe Loraux took me", "oiselle,\"\nsaid the Consul, addressing Camille, \"know all the resources of art, the\ntricks of style, and the efforts made in their compositions by writers\nwho do not lack skill; but you will acknowledge that literature could\nnever find such language in its assumed pathos; there is nothing so\nterrible as truth. Here is the letter written by this woman, or rather\nby this anguish:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'I know all your uncle would say to me; he is not better informed than\nmy", "Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.\n\n\"'Maurice.'\n\n\"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.\n\n\"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to\nfoot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first\ninstance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here\nevery Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'\n\n\"My uncle and the Count then began to talk" ], [ "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", ", and manias become the subject of\ninvoluntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less\nthan a marriage.\n\n\"During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I\nlearned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years\nold. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety\nof his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and\nof stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man--an\nextraordinary man to those who knew him well", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "Was so pious a man a prey to vices hidden under hypocrisy?\nDid he expend all the powers of his mind to satisfy a jealousy more\ndexterous than Othello's? Did he live with some woman unworthy of him?\nOne morning, on returning from I have forgotten what shop, where I had\njust paid a bill, between the Church of Saint-Paul and the Hotel de\nVille, I came across Comte Octave in such eager conversation with an old\nwoman that he did not see me. The appearance of this hag filled me with\nstr", "was laid down for me by\nthe Count, whose whole intellectual powers were directed to the most\ntrifling incidents of the tragi-comedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As\nsoon as the Countess had gone to bed, at about eleven at night, Octave,\nMadame Gobain, and I sat in council. I heard the old woman's report to\nthe Count of his wife's least proceedings during the day. He inquired\ninto everything: her meals, her occupations, her frame of mind, her\nplans for the mor", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "te\nOctave.--'By taking you this morning to M. le Comte Octave, I hope to\nsecure you his patronage, which, if you are so fortunate as to please\nthat virtuous statesman--as I make no doubt you can--will be worth, at\nleast, as much as the fortune I might have accumulated for you, if my\nbrother-in-law's ruin and my sister's death had not fallen on me like a\nthunder-bolt from a clear sky.'\n\n\"'Are you the Count's director?'\n\n", "ishment.\n\n\"'In Count Octave's,' I replied. 'You have been tricked. M. Lenormand,\nthe usher of the Court, is not the real owner; he is only a screen for\nyour husband. The delightful seclusion you enjoy is the Count's work,\nthe money you earn is paid by him, and his protection extends to the\nmost trivial details of your existence. Your husband has saved you\nin the eyes of the world; he has assigned plausible reasons for your\ndisappearance; he professes to hope that you were not lost", "him. As for you, Octave, yours\nran away from you. So we three represent every case of the conjugal\nconscience, and, no doubt, if ever divorce is brought in again, we shall\nform the committee.'\n\n\"Octave's fork dropped on his glass, broke it, and broke his plate. He\nhad turned as pale as death, and flashed a thunderous glare at M. de\nGrandville, by which he hinted at my presence, and which I caught.\n\n\"'Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "with the man she\nloves. To the last moment, as you know, I cried to your heart, in the\nconfessional, and to my husband, \"Have mercy!\" But there was no mercy.\nWell, and I am dying, dying with stupendous courage. No courtesan was\never more gay than I. My poor Octave is happy; I let his love feed on\nthe illusions of my heart. I throw all my powers into this terrible\nmasquerade; the actress is applauded, feasted, smothered in flowers; but\nthe invisible rival", "\n\"Comte Octave had introduced me to the best houses in Paris, whither I\nwent in his stead, with his servants and carriage, on the too frequent\noccasions when, on the point of starting, he changed his mind, and sent\nfor a hackney cab to take him--Where?--that was the mystery. By the\nwelcome I met with I could judge of the Count's feelings towards me, and\nthe earnestness of his recommendations. He supplied all my wants with\nthe thoughtfulness of a father, and with all the greater liberality\nbecause my mod", "ote. The orator of the Legislative Chamber can\nunderstand the poet who fed his ideal on material possibilities. Three\ndays before the arrival of Maria Louisa, Napoleon flung himself on\nhis wedding bed at Compiegne. All stupendous passions have the same\nimpulses. I love as a poet--as an emperor!'\n\n\"As I heard the last words, I believed that Count Octave's fears were\nrealized; he had risen, and was walking up and down, and gesticulating,\nbut he stopped as if shocked by the vehemence of", "\"It was ten o'clock. The twilight of July and a glorious moon lent\nus their misty light. Gusts of mingled perfumes soothed the soul; the\nCountess was clinking in her hand the five gold pieces given to her by\na supposititious dealer in fashionable frippery, another of Octave's\naccomplices found for him by a judge, M. Popinot.\n\n\"'I earn my living by amusing myself,' said she; 'I am free, when\nmen, armed with their", "Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.\n\n\"'Maurice.'\n\n\"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.\n\n\"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to\nfoot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first\ninstance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here\nevery Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'\n\n\"My uncle and the Count then began to talk", "impatient mood in Octave caused by some matter of business, or be\ndeceived by some unjust suspicion. Alas! I might even mistake some proof\nof love for a sign of contempt!\n\n\"'What torture on both sides! Octave would be always doubting me, I\ndoubting him. I, quite involuntarily, should give him a rival wholly\nunworthy of him, a man whom I despise, but with whom I have known\nraptures branded on me with fire, which are my shame, but which I cannot\nforget.\n", "the Baron de l'Hostal.\n\n\"He suspects the truth,\" replied the Consul, \"and that is what is\nkilling him. I remained on board the steam packet that was to take him\nto Naples till it was out of the roadstead; a small boat brought me\nback. We sat for some little time taking leave of each other--for ever,\nI fear. God only knows how much we love the confidant of our love when\nshe who inspired it is no more.\n\n\"'That man,' said Octave, 'holds a charm and wears an", "public, the Count betrayed the man only on rare intervals when,\nalone in his garden or his study, he supposed himself unobserved; but\nthen he was a child again, he gave course to the tears hidden beneath\nthe toga, to the excitement which, if wrongly interpreted, might have\ndamaged his credit for perspicacity as a statesman.\n\n\"When all this had become to me a matter of certainty, Comte Octave had\nall the attractions of a problem, and won on my affection as much as\nthough he had been my own father. Can you enter" ], [ "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "to chat with the old woman, to\nhear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest\nword she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the\nsecrets of that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious;\nshe attends the Church services and prays, but she has never been to\nconfession or taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would\ntell her. She will not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she\nshould return to me. This horror", "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", ", Madame Gobain, the old woman of impeccable discretion whom\nI was so lucky as to find, and whose affection Honorine has won. But her\nzeal, like that of the gardener, is kept hot by the promise of reward at\nthe moment of success. The porter and his wife cost me dreadfully dear\nfor the same reasons. However, for three years Honorine has been happy,\nbelieving that she owes to her own toil all the luxury of flowers,\ndress, and comfort.\n\n\"'Oh! I know what you", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "of me overwhelms me, dismays me, for I\nhave never done her the smallest harm. I have always been kind to her.\nGranting even that I may have been a little hasty when teaching her,\nthat my man's irony may have hurt her legitimate girlish pride, is\nthat a reason for persisting in a determination which only the most\nimplacable hatred could have inspired? Honorine has never told Madame\nGobain who she is; she keeps absolute silence as to her marriage, so\nthat the worthy and respectable woman can never speak a word in", "me. Have mercy\non me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities\nthat I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne,\nwhere I can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again\nwith you. I am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the\nFaubourg Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I\nowe to her ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister\nwho will allow me to press on her brow such", "'s hands.'\n\n\"Honorine started like a frightened doe, sprang to a few paces off,\nwalked down the garden, turned about, remained standing for some\nminutes, and finally went in to sit alone in the drawing-room, where I\njoined her, after giving her time to get accustomed to the pain of this\nponiard thrust.\n\n\"'You--a friend? Say rather a traitor! A spy, perhaps, sent by my\nhusband.'\n\n\"Instinct in women is as strong as the perspicacity of", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "by a smile, by a\ncommand from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered\nthe terrible words you once quoted to me, \"Lucretia's dagger wrote in\nletters of blood the watchword of woman's charter--Liberty!\" and\nthey froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine's\nconsent, and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess\nthe storms that distracted me when I left as when I came?\n\n\"'At last I painted my situation in", "against fresh disaster--to\nfulfil my part, in short, as a guardian angel?--At the age of seven\nmonths her infant died, happily for her and for me. For nine months more\nmy wife lay between life and death, deserted at the time when she most\nneeded a manly arm; but this arm,' said he, holding out his own with a\ngesture of angelic dignity, 'was extended over her head. Honorine was\nnursed as she would have been in her own home. When, on her recovery,\nshe asked how and by whom she", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "odor of virtue, and the light in her eyes, the prettiness of her\nmovements, I fled like a man preparing to violate a tomb, who sees\nemerging from it the transfigured soul of the dead. At consultations,\nin Court, by night, I dream so incessantly of Honorine that only by\nexcessive strength of mind do I succeed in attending to what I am doing\nand saying. This is the secret of my labors.\n\n\"'Well, I felt no more anger with her than a father can feel on seeing\nhis beloved child" ], [ "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", ", Madame Gobain, the old woman of impeccable discretion whom\nI was so lucky as to find, and whose affection Honorine has won. But her\nzeal, like that of the gardener, is kept hot by the promise of reward at\nthe moment of success. The porter and his wife cost me dreadfully dear\nfor the same reasons. However, for three years Honorine has been happy,\nbelieving that she owes to her own toil all the luxury of flowers,\ndress, and comfort.\n\n\"'Oh! I know what you", "and sends me in a bill for two thousand\nfrancs every three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with\na house on it close to the porter's lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I\nhold this ground in the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest\nindiscretion would ruin the gardener's prospects. Honorine has her\nlittle house, a garden, and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of\nfive hundred francs a year. There she lives under the name of her\nhousekeeper", "me. Have mercy\non me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities\nthat I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne,\nwhere I can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again\nwith you. I am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the\nFaubourg Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I\nowe to her ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister\nwho will allow me to press on her brow such", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "to chat with the old woman, to\nhear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest\nword she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the\nsecrets of that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious;\nshe attends the Church services and prays, but she has never been to\nconfession or taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would\ntell her. She will not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she\nshould return to me. This horror", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "the kneeling\nchair are all they need.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said Leon de Lora; \"but good-for-nothing as I may be, I\ncannot help admiring a woman who is capable, as that one was, of living\nby the side of a studio, under a painter's roof, and never coming down,\nnor seeing the world, nor dipping her feet in the street mud.\"\n\n\"Such a thing has been known--for a few months,\" said Claude Vignon,\nwith deep irony.\n\n\"Comtesse Honorine is", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "odor of virtue, and the light in her eyes, the prettiness of her\nmovements, I fled like a man preparing to violate a tomb, who sees\nemerging from it the transfigured soul of the dead. At consultations,\nin Court, by night, I dream so incessantly of Honorine that only by\nexcessive strength of mind do I succeed in attending to what I am doing\nand saying. This is the secret of my labors.\n\n\"'Well, I felt no more anger with her than a father can feel on seeing\nhis beloved child", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "of me overwhelms me, dismays me, for I\nhave never done her the smallest harm. I have always been kind to her.\nGranting even that I may have been a little hasty when teaching her,\nthat my man's irony may have hurt her legitimate girlish pride, is\nthat a reason for persisting in a determination which only the most\nimplacable hatred could have inspired? Honorine has never told Madame\nGobain who she is; she keeps absolute silence as to her marriage, so\nthat the worthy and respectable woman can never speak a word in", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", " GUTENBERG EBOOK HONORINE ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by John Bickers, and Dagny\n\n\n\n\n\nHONORINE\n\n\nBy Honore De Balzac\n\n\n\nTranslated by Clara Bell\n\n\n\n DEDICATION\n\n To Monsieur Achille Deveria\n\n An affectionate remembrance from the Author.\n\n\n\n\n\nHONORINE\n\n\nIf the French have as great an aversion for traveling as the English\nhave a propensity for", "evening at Honorine's house,\nwhither I presently returned. It was now August; the day had been hot\nand stormy, but the storm hung overhead, the sky was like copper; the\nscent of the flowers was heavy, I felt as if I were in an oven, and\ncaught myself wishing that the Countess might have set out for the\nIndies; but she was sitting on a wooden bench shaped like a sofa, under\nan arbor, in a loose dress of white muslin fastened with blue bows,\nher hair unadorned in waving", "\n\"'When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married.\nOur respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court,\nhindered us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the\nfurniture; we lived on, as we had done in the past, as children.\nHowever, I went into society; I initiated my wife into the world of\nfashion; and I regarded it as one of my duties to instruct her.\n\n\"'I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such\ncircumstances as ours" ], [ "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "with the man she\nloves. To the last moment, as you know, I cried to your heart, in the\nconfessional, and to my husband, \"Have mercy!\" But there was no mercy.\nWell, and I am dying, dying with stupendous courage. No courtesan was\never more gay than I. My poor Octave is happy; I let his love feed on\nthe illusions of my heart. I throw all my powers into this terrible\nmasquerade; the actress is applauded, feasted, smothered in flowers; but\nthe invisible rival", ", and manias become the subject of\ninvoluntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less\nthan a marriage.\n\n\"During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I\nlearned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years\nold. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety\nof his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and\nof stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man--an\nextraordinary man to those who knew him well", "the Baron de l'Hostal.\n\n\"He suspects the truth,\" replied the Consul, \"and that is what is\nkilling him. I remained on board the steam packet that was to take him\nto Naples till it was out of the roadstead; a small boat brought me\nback. We sat for some little time taking leave of each other--for ever,\nI fear. God only knows how much we love the confidant of our love when\nshe who inspired it is no more.\n\n\"'That man,' said Octave, 'holds a charm and wears an", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "\nthen--Good-night,' she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious\ngesture.\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow, then,' I replied with a smile, to keep up the\nappearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down\nthe avenue I repeated the words:\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow.'\n\n\"Octave's anxiety was equal to Honorine's. The Count and I remained\ntogether till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of\nthe Bastille", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "that you know in its light curls; and in it were some\nsprays of Cape heath; she wore a white muslin gown, a white sash with\nlong floating ends. You know what she is in such simplicity, but that\nday she was a bride, the Honorine of long past days. My joy was chilled\nat once, for her face was terribly grave; there were fires beneath the\nice.\n\n\"'\"Octave,\" she said, \"I will return as your wife when you will. But\nunderstand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be", "public, the Count betrayed the man only on rare intervals when,\nalone in his garden or his study, he supposed himself unobserved; but\nthen he was a child again, he gave course to the tears hidden beneath\nthe toga, to the excitement which, if wrongly interpreted, might have\ndamaged his credit for perspicacity as a statesman.\n\n\"When all this had become to me a matter of certainty, Comte Octave had\nall the attractions of a problem, and won on my affection as much as\nthough he had been my own father. Can you enter", "ishment.\n\n\"'In Count Octave's,' I replied. 'You have been tricked. M. Lenormand,\nthe usher of the Court, is not the real owner; he is only a screen for\nyour husband. The delightful seclusion you enjoy is the Count's work,\nthe money you earn is paid by him, and his protection extends to the\nmost trivial details of your existence. Your husband has saved you\nin the eyes of the world; he has assigned plausible reasons for your\ndisappearance; he professes to hope that you were not lost", "him. As for you, Octave, yours\nran away from you. So we three represent every case of the conjugal\nconscience, and, no doubt, if ever divorce is brought in again, we shall\nform the committee.'\n\n\"Octave's fork dropped on his glass, broke it, and broke his plate. He\nhad turned as pale as death, and flashed a thunderous glare at M. de\nGrandville, by which he hinted at my presence, and which I caught.\n\n\"'Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not" ], [ "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", "happiness----'\n\n\"'My dear Octave, if you should succeed in bringing the Countess back\nto her duty, I have studied her well'--(he looked at me as Othello must\nhave looked at Iago when Iago first contrived to insinuate a suspicion\ninto the Moor's mind)--'she must never see me again; she must never know\nthat Maurice was your secretary. Never mention my name to her, or\nall will be undone.... You have got me an appointment as Maitre\ndes Requetes--well, get me instead some diplom", "Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.\n\n\"'Maurice.'\n\n\"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.\n\n\"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to\nfoot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first\ninstance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here\nevery Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'\n\n\"My uncle and the Count then began to talk", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", ",\nnor give you a separate table, for fear of leaving you to the care of\nservants. I did not accept the offer when it was made to me till I was\nperfectly certain that Comte Octave's secretary was never to be a mere\nupper servant. You will have an immense amount of work, for the Count\nis a great worker; but when you leave him, you will be qualified to fill\nthe highest posts. I need not warn you to be discreet; that is the first\nvirtue of any man who hopes to hold public appointments.'\n\n\"You may", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "te\nOctave.--'By taking you this morning to M. le Comte Octave, I hope to\nsecure you his patronage, which, if you are so fortunate as to please\nthat virtuous statesman--as I make no doubt you can--will be worth, at\nleast, as much as the fortune I might have accumulated for you, if my\nbrother-in-law's ruin and my sister's death had not fallen on me like a\nthunder-bolt from a clear sky.'\n\n\"'Are you the Count's director?'\n\n", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "was laid down for me by\nthe Count, whose whole intellectual powers were directed to the most\ntrifling incidents of the tragi-comedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As\nsoon as the Countess had gone to bed, at about eleven at night, Octave,\nMadame Gobain, and I sat in council. I heard the old woman's report to\nthe Count of his wife's least proceedings during the day. He inquired\ninto everything: her meals, her occupations, her frame of mind, her\nplans for the mor", "\"It was ten o'clock. The twilight of July and a glorious moon lent\nus their misty light. Gusts of mingled perfumes soothed the soul; the\nCountess was clinking in her hand the five gold pieces given to her by\na supposititious dealer in fashionable frippery, another of Octave's\naccomplices found for him by a judge, M. Popinot.\n\n\"'I earn my living by amusing myself,' said she; 'I am free, when\nmen, armed with their", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", "and sends me in a bill for two thousand\nfrancs every three months. I have promised the man a market-garden with\na house on it close to the porter's lodge in the Rue Saint-Maur. I\nhold this ground in the name of a clerk of the law courts. The smallest\nindiscretion would ruin the gardener's prospects. Honorine has her\nlittle house, a garden, and a splendid hothouse, for a rent of\nfive hundred francs a year. There she lives under the name of her\nhousekeeper", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "\n\"Comte Octave had introduced me to the best houses in Paris, whither I\nwent in his stead, with his servants and carriage, on the too frequent\noccasions when, on the point of starting, he changed his mind, and sent\nfor a hackney cab to take him--Where?--that was the mystery. By the\nwelcome I met with I could judge of the Count's feelings towards me, and\nthe earnestness of his recommendations. He supplied all my wants with\nthe thoughtfulness of a father, and with all the greater liberality\nbecause my mod", "ishment.\n\n\"'In Count Octave's,' I replied. 'You have been tricked. M. Lenormand,\nthe usher of the Court, is not the real owner; he is only a screen for\nyour husband. The delightful seclusion you enjoy is the Count's work,\nthe money you earn is paid by him, and his protection extends to the\nmost trivial details of your existence. Your husband has saved you\nin the eyes of the world; he has assigned plausible reasons for your\ndisappearance; he professes to hope that you were not lost", "answer the Cure of White Friars only with a\nkiss, as if he had been my mother.\n\n\"'In Comte Octave you will find not a master, but a friend,' said my\nuncle on the way to the Rue Payenne. 'But he is distrustful, or to be\nmore exact, he is cautious. The statesman's friendship can be won only\nwith time; for in spite of his deep insight and his habit of gauging\nmen, he was deceived by the man you are succeeding, and nearly became a\nvict", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I" ], [ "to chat with the old woman, to\nhear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest\nword she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the\nsecrets of that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious;\nshe attends the Church services and prays, but she has never been to\nconfession or taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would\ntell her. She will not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she\nshould return to me. This horror", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", "ails him then?' asked the Countess.\n\n\"'He has studied too hard,' replied Gobain; 'he has turned misanthropic.\nAnd he has his reasons for disliking women--well, if you want to know\nall that is said about him----'\n\n\"'Well,' said Honorine, 'madmen frighten me less than sane folks; I will\nspeak to him myself! Tell him that I beg him to come here. If I do not\nsucceed, I will send for the cure.'\n\n\"The day after this conversation, as", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "that you know in its light curls; and in it were some\nsprays of Cape heath; she wore a white muslin gown, a white sash with\nlong floating ends. You know what she is in such simplicity, but that\nday she was a bride, the Honorine of long past days. My joy was chilled\nat once, for her face was terribly grave; there were fires beneath the\nice.\n\n\"'\"Octave,\" she said, \"I will return as your wife when you will. But\nunderstand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "of me overwhelms me, dismays me, for I\nhave never done her the smallest harm. I have always been kind to her.\nGranting even that I may have been a little hasty when teaching her,\nthat my man's irony may have hurt her legitimate girlish pride, is\nthat a reason for persisting in a determination which only the most\nimplacable hatred could have inspired? Honorine has never told Madame\nGobain who she is; she keeps absolute silence as to her marriage, so\nthat the worthy and respectable woman can never speak a word in", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "\nthen--Good-night,' she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious\ngesture.\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow, then,' I replied with a smile, to keep up the\nappearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down\nthe avenue I repeated the words:\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow.'\n\n\"Octave's anxiety was equal to Honorine's. The Count and I remained\ntogether till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of\nthe Bastille", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?" ], [ "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "\nthen--Good-night,' she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious\ngesture.\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow, then,' I replied with a smile, to keep up the\nappearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down\nthe avenue I repeated the words:\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow.'\n\n\"Octave's anxiety was equal to Honorine's. The Count and I remained\ntogether till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of\nthe Bastille", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "that you know in its light curls; and in it were some\nsprays of Cape heath; she wore a white muslin gown, a white sash with\nlong floating ends. You know what she is in such simplicity, but that\nday she was a bride, the Honorine of long past days. My joy was chilled\nat once, for her face was terribly grave; there were fires beneath the\nice.\n\n\"'\"Octave,\" she said, \"I will return as your wife when you will. But\nunderstand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", ", and manias become the subject of\ninvoluntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less\nthan a marriage.\n\n\"During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I\nlearned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years\nold. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety\nof his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and\nof stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man--an\nextraordinary man to those who knew him well", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", "him. As for you, Octave, yours\nran away from you. So we three represent every case of the conjugal\nconscience, and, no doubt, if ever divorce is brought in again, we shall\nform the committee.'\n\n\"Octave's fork dropped on his glass, broke it, and broke his plate. He\nhad turned as pale as death, and flashed a thunderous glare at M. de\nGrandville, by which he hinted at my presence, and which I caught.\n\n\"'Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not", "row, the flowers she proposed to imitate. I understood\nwhat love in despair may be when it is the threefold passion of the\nheart, the mind, and the senses. Octave lived only for that hour.\n\n\"During two months, while my work in the garden lasted, I never set\neyes on the little house where my fair neighbor dwelt. I had not even\ninquired whether I had a neighbor, though the Countess' garden was\ndivided from mine by a paling, along which she had planted cypress trees\nalready four feet high. One fine morning", "with the man she\nloves. To the last moment, as you know, I cried to your heart, in the\nconfessional, and to my husband, \"Have mercy!\" But there was no mercy.\nWell, and I am dying, dying with stupendous courage. No courtesan was\never more gay than I. My poor Octave is happy; I let his love feed on\nthe illusions of my heart. I throw all my powers into this terrible\nmasquerade; the actress is applauded, feasted, smothered in flowers; but\nthe invisible rival", "public, the Count betrayed the man only on rare intervals when,\nalone in his garden or his study, he supposed himself unobserved; but\nthen he was a child again, he gave course to the tears hidden beneath\nthe toga, to the excitement which, if wrongly interpreted, might have\ndamaged his credit for perspicacity as a statesman.\n\n\"When all this had become to me a matter of certainty, Comte Octave had\nall the attractions of a problem, and won on my affection as much as\nthough he had been my own father. Can you enter" ], [ "Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.\n\n\"'Maurice.'\n\n\"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.\n\n\"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to\nfoot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first\ninstance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here\nevery Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'\n\n\"My uncle and the Count then began to talk", "had sacrificed one of\nthose days of perfect freedom, which are not always to be had in Paris\nby those on whom the world has its eye.\n\nNow, the meeting being accounted for, it is easy to understand that\netiquette had been banished, as well as a great many women even of the\nhighest rank, who were curious to know whether Camille Maupin's manly\ntalent impaired her grace as a pretty woman, and to see, in a word,\nwhether the trousers showed below her petticoats. After dinner till nine", "habits were much\nthe same as my patron's, never dined away from home, we were still\ndiscussing the matter at a late hour, when we were startled by the\nman-servant calling me aside to say, 'MM. the Cures of Saint-Paul and of\nthe White Friars have been waiting in the drawing-room for two hours.'\n\n\"It was nine o'clock.\n\n\"'Well, gentlemen, you find yourselves compelled to dine with priests,'\nsaid Comte Octave to his colleagues. 'I do not know", "secretary to the Embassy who believes himself to be crushed and\nmischievous; finally, two Parisians, who have come to take leave of\nthe Consul's wife at a splendid dinner, and you will have the picture\npresented by the terrace of the villa about the middle of May--a picture\nin which the predominant figure was that of a celebrated woman, on\nwhom all eyes centered now and again, the heroine of this improvised\nfestival.\n\nOne of the two Frenchmen was the famous landscape painter, Leon de Lora;\nthe other", "\no'clock, when a collation was served, though the conversation had been\ngay and grave by turns, and constantly enlivened by Leon de Lora's\nsallies--for he is considered the most roguish wit of Paris to-day--and\nby the good taste which will surprise no one after the list of guests,\nliterature had scarcely been mentioned. However, the butterfly flittings\nof this French tilting match were certain to come to it, were it only to\nflutter over this essentially French subject. But before coming to the\nturn in", "Consul, and was immediately\njoined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:\n\n\"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied she, whispering to Claude these words: \"for he has not yet\nguessed that Honorine would have loved him.--Oh!\" she exclaimed, seeing\nthe Consul's wife approaching, \"his wife was listening! Unhappy man!\"\n\nEleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot\nalong the seashore.", "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", "room. The dinner was delightful. Men of\nreal information, politicians to whom business gives both consummate\nexperience and the practice of speech, are admirable story-tellers, when\nthey tell stories. With them there is no medium; they are either heavy,\nor they are sublime. In this delightful sport Prince Metternich is as\ngood as Charles Nodier. The fun of a statesman, cut in facets like a\ndiamond, is sharp, sparkling, and full of sense. Being sure that the\nproprieties would be observed by these three superior", "Though the ambassador\nwas a distinguished man of letters, the celebrated lady had refused to\nyield to his advances, dreading what the English call an exhibition;\nbut she had drawn in the claws of her refusals when it was proposed that\nthey should spend a farewell day at the Consul's villa. Leon de Lora had\ntold Camille that her presence at the villa was the only return he\ncould make to the Ambassador and his wife, the two Genoese noblemen, the\nConsul and his wife. So Mademoiselle des Touches", "a well known critic Claude Vignon. They had both come with\nthis lady, one of the glories of the fair sex, Mademoiselle des Touches,\nknown in the literary world by the name of Camille Maupin.\n\nMademoiselle des Touches had been to Florence on business. With the\ncharming kindness of which she is prodigal, she had brought with her\nLeon de Lora to show him Italy, and had gone on as far as Rome that he\nmight see the Campagna. She had come by Simplon, and was", "and he\nhad reached it.\n\n\"In all my life I remember nothing more formidable than my uncle's\nentrance into that little Pompadour drawing-room, at ten that evening.\nThe fine head, with its silver hair thrown into relief by the entirely\nblack dress, and the divinely calm face, had a magical effect on the\nComtesse Honorine; she had the feeling of cool balm on her wounds, and\nbeamed in the reflection of that virtue which gave light without knowing\nit.\n\n\"'Monsieur the Cure of the White Fri", "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "he\nbowed gracefully to the Ambassador, the distinguished lady, and the\ntwo Frenchmen), \"real statesmen, poets, a general who has commanded\narmies--in short, all really great minds are simple, and their\nsimplicity places you on a level with themselves.--You who are all of\nsuperior minds,\" he said, addressing his guests, \"have perhaps observed\nhow feeling can bridge over the distances created by society. If we\nare inferior to you in intellect, we can be your equals in devoted\nfriendship. By the temperature--allow me the word--of our", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "Friars, and his nephew, Monsieur de\nl'Hostal,' said Labranche, to whose care the other theatrical servant\nhad consigned us in the first ante-chamber.\n\n\"Comte Octave, dressed in long trousers and a gray flannel morning coat,\nrose from his seat by a huge writing-table, came to the fireplace,\nand signed to me to sit down, while he went forward to take my uncle's\nhands, which he pressed.\n\n\"'Though I am in the parish of Saint-Paul,'", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", "this couple:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--I am dying though I am a mother--perhaps because\nI am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have deceived my\nhusband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears shed by\nactresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, for\nmarriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I am\ndying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but\nI am", "was laid down for me by\nthe Count, whose whole intellectual powers were directed to the most\ntrifling incidents of the tragi-comedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As\nsoon as the Countess had gone to bed, at about eleven at night, Octave,\nMadame Gobain, and I sat in council. I heard the old woman's report to\nthe Count of his wife's least proceedings during the day. He inquired\ninto everything: her meals, her occupations, her frame of mind, her\nplans for the mor" ], [ "\"'If I were, could I place you with him? What priest could be capable\nof taking advantage of the secrets which he learns at the tribunal of\nrepentance? No; you owe this position to his Highness, the Keeper of\nthe Seals. My dear Maurice, you will be as much at home there as in your\nfather's house. The Count will give you a salary of two thousand four\nhundred francs, rooms in his house, and an allowance of twelve hundred\nfrancs in lieu of feeding you. He will not admit you to his table", "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "happiness----'\n\n\"'My dear Octave, if you should succeed in bringing the Countess back\nto her duty, I have studied her well'--(he looked at me as Othello must\nhave looked at Iago when Iago first contrived to insinuate a suspicion\ninto the Moor's mind)--'she must never see me again; she must never know\nthat Maurice was your secretary. Never mention my name to her, or\nall will be undone.... You have got me an appointment as Maitre\ndes Requetes--well, get me instead some diplom", "the room I had in his\nhouse, and said:\n\n\"'Get yourself dressed, my dear boy; I am going to introduce you to some\none who is willing to engage you as secretary. If I am not mistaken, he\nmay fill my place in the event of God's taking me to Himself. I shall\nhave finished mass at nine o'clock; you have three-quarters of an hour\nbefore you. Be ready.'\n\n\"'What, uncle! must I say good-bye to this room, where for four years I\nhave been so happy?'\n\n\"'", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", ",\nnor give you a separate table, for fear of leaving you to the care of\nservants. I did not accept the offer when it was made to me till I was\nperfectly certain that Comte Octave's secretary was never to be a mere\nupper servant. You will have an immense amount of work, for the Count\nis a great worker; but when you leave him, you will be qualified to fill\nthe highest posts. I need not warn you to be discreet; that is the first\nvirtue of any man who hopes to hold public appointments.'\n\n\"You may", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "secretary to the Embassy who believes himself to be crushed and\nmischievous; finally, two Parisians, who have come to take leave of\nthe Consul's wife at a splendid dinner, and you will have the picture\npresented by the terrace of the villa about the middle of May--a picture\nin which the predominant figure was that of a celebrated woman, on\nwhom all eyes centered now and again, the heroine of this improvised\nfestival.\n\nOne of the two Frenchmen was the famous landscape painter, Leon de Lora;\nthe other", "\n\"'You are a foolish boy,' replied the Count. 'I will send you well\ngloved. It is no secretary of mine that will be lodged in the Rue\nSaint-Maur in the little garden-house which I have at his disposal. It\nis my distant cousin, Baron de l'Hostal, a lawyer high in office...\"\n\n\"After a moment of silent surprise, I heard the gate bell ring, and a\ncarriage came into the courtyard. Presently the footman announced Madame\nde Courteville and her daughter. The Count had a large family", "this satisfaction was my reward, and he could see that\nI took it so. This little incident produced an extraordinary effect on a\nsoul which seemed so stern. The Count pronounced sentence on me, to\nuse a legal phrase, as supreme and royal judge; he took my head in his\nhands, and kissed me on the forehead.\n\n\"'Maurice,' he exclaimed, 'you are no longer my apprentice; I know not\nyet what you will be to me--but if no change occurs in my life, perhaps\nyou will take the place of a son.'\n", "oiselle,\"\nsaid the Consul, addressing Camille, \"know all the resources of art, the\ntricks of style, and the efforts made in their compositions by writers\nwho do not lack skill; but you will acknowledge that literature could\nnever find such language in its assumed pathos; there is nothing so\nterrible as truth. Here is the letter written by this woman, or rather\nby this anguish:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'I know all your uncle would say to me; he is not better informed than\nmy", "would have been superfluous between\nus. This shade shows the character of our relations. And yet we had not\nyet unlimited confidence in each other; he did not open to me the vast\nsubterranean chambers which I had detected in his secret life; and\nI, for my part, never said to him, 'What ails you? From what are you\nsuffering?'\n\n\"What could he be doing during those long evenings? He would often come\nin on foot or in a hackney cab when I returned in a carriage--I, his\nsecretary!", "for nearly\nfifty years now, and who weighs in his hands the ponderous heart of\nkings and princes. If he is stern under his stole, in the presence of\nyour flowers he will be as tender as they are, and as indulgent as his\nDivine Master.'\n\n\"I left the Countess at midnight; she was apparently calm, but\ndepressed, and had some secret purpose which no perspicacity could\nguess. I found the Count a few paces off, in the Rue Saint-Maur. Drawn\nby an irresistible attraction", "this couple:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--I am dying though I am a mother--perhaps because\nI am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have deceived my\nhusband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears shed by\nactresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, for\nmarriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I am\ndying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but\nI am", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "my\nfavor, for she is the only person in the house who knows my secret. The\nothers know nothing; they live under the awe caused by the name of the\nPrefect of Police, and their respect for the power of a Minister. Hence\nit is impossible for me to penetrate that heart; the citadel is mine,\nbut I cannot get into it. I have not a single means of action. An act of\nviolence would ruin me for ever.\n\n\"'How can I argue against reasons of which I know nothing? Should I\nwrite a letter, and have it", "the ideal, I saw before me\nmodest reality. Pity me, for what could be expected! At five-and-twenty\nI did not trust myself; but I took a manful resolution.\n\n\"I went back to the Count to announce the arrival of his relations, and\nI saw him grown young again in the reflected light of hope.\n\n\"'What ails you, Maurice?' said he, struck by my changed expression.\n\n\"'Monsieur le Comte----'\n\n\"'No longer Octave? You, to whom I shall owe my life, my", "\nheart. Under his austere manner, under the reserve of the magistrate, a\npassion rebelled, though coerced with such force that no one but I\nwho lived with him ever guessed the secret. His motto seemed to be,\n'I suffer, and am silent.' The escort of respect and admiration\nwhich attended him; the friendship of workers as valiant as\nhimself--Grandville and Serizy, both presiding judges--had no hold over\nthe Count: either he told them nothing, or they knew all. Impassible and\nlofty in" ], [ "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "that you know in its light curls; and in it were some\nsprays of Cape heath; she wore a white muslin gown, a white sash with\nlong floating ends. You know what she is in such simplicity, but that\nday she was a bride, the Honorine of long past days. My joy was chilled\nat once, for her face was terribly grave; there were fires beneath the\nice.\n\n\"'\"Octave,\" she said, \"I will return as your wife when you will. But\nunderstand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "him. As for you, Octave, yours\nran away from you. So we three represent every case of the conjugal\nconscience, and, no doubt, if ever divorce is brought in again, we shall\nform the committee.'\n\n\"Octave's fork dropped on his glass, broke it, and broke his plate. He\nhad turned as pale as death, and flashed a thunderous glare at M. de\nGrandville, by which he hinted at my presence, and which I caught.\n\n\"'Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not", "\nthen--Good-night,' she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious\ngesture.\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow, then,' I replied with a smile, to keep up the\nappearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down\nthe avenue I repeated the words:\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow.'\n\n\"Octave's anxiety was equal to Honorine's. The Count and I remained\ntogether till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of\nthe Bastille", "evening at Honorine's house,\nwhither I presently returned. It was now August; the day had been hot\nand stormy, but the storm hung overhead, the sky was like copper; the\nscent of the flowers was heavy, I felt as if I were in an oven, and\ncaught myself wishing that the Countess might have set out for the\nIndies; but she was sitting on a wooden bench shaped like a sofa, under\nan arbor, in a loose dress of white muslin fastened with blue bows,\nher hair unadorned in waving", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", "by a smile, by a\ncommand from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered\nthe terrible words you once quoted to me, \"Lucretia's dagger wrote in\nletters of blood the watchword of woman's charter--Liberty!\" and\nthey froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine's\nconsent, and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess\nthe storms that distracted me when I left as when I came?\n\n\"'At last I painted my situation in" ], [ "see Maurice,' the President went\non. 'Serizy and I, after being the witnesses to your marriage, became\nyour accomplices; I did not think I was committing an indiscretion in\nthe presence of these two venerable priests.'\n\n\"M. de Serizy changed the subject by relating all he had done to please\nhis wife without ever succeeding. The old man concluded that it was\nimpossible to regulate human sympathies and antipathies; he maintained\nthat social law was never more perfect than when it was nearest to\nnatural law. Now Nature", ", have exhausted\neverything in the way of mercy, of kindness, of love; I am at my wits'\nend. Only one chance of victory is left to me; the cunning and patience\nwith which bird-catchers at last entrap the wariest birds, the swiftest,\nthe most capricious, and the rarest. Hence, Maurice, when M. de\nGrandville's indiscretion betrayed to you the secret of my life, I ended\nby regarding this incident as one of the decrees of fate, one of the\nutterances for which", "in some danger it has imprudently rushed into. I\nunderstood that I had made a poem of my wife--a poem I delighted in\nwith such intoxication, that I fancied she shared the intoxication. Ah!\nMaurice, an indiscriminating passion in a husband is a mistake that may\nlead to any crime in a wife. I had no doubt left all the faculties of\nthis child, loved as a child, entirely unemployed; I had perhaps wearied\nher with my love before the hour of loving had struck for her! Too young\nto", "this couple:--\n\n\"'MONSIEUR MAURICE,--I am dying though I am a mother--perhaps because\nI am a mother. I have played my part as a wife well; I have deceived my\nhusband. I have had happiness not less genuine than the tears shed by\nactresses on the stage. I am dying for society, for the family, for\nmarriage, as the early Christians died for God! I know not of what I am\ndying, and I am honestly trying to find out, for I am not perverse; but\nI am", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "the tether by which he held me strained too tightly and\nready to break, he would never fail to say, 'Here, Maurice, you too\nare poor! Here are twenty francs; go and amuse yourself, you are not a\npriest!' And if you could have seen the dancing light that gilded his\ngray eyes, the smile that relaxed his fine lips, puckering the corners\nof his mouth, the adorable expression of that august face, whose native\nugliness was redeemed by the spirit of an apostle, you would understand\nthe feeling which made me", "rejoicings, in its habits, and in its pleasures, is severer than the\nCode and the Church; the world punishes a blunder after encouraging\nhypocrisy. The whole economy of the law on marriage seems to me to\nrequire reconstruction from the bottom to the top. The French law would\nbe perfect perhaps if it excluded daughters from inheriting.'\n\n\"'We three among us know the question very thoroughly,' said the Comte\nde Grandville with a laugh. 'I have a wife I cannot live with. Serizy\nhas a wife who will not live with", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "to which I now restricted my ambition. After I had\nestablished myself there, I received this letter from the Count:--\n\n\"'MY DEAR MAURICE,--\n\n\"'If I were happy, I should not write to you, but I have entered on a\nnew life of suffering. I have grown young again in my desires, with all\nthe impatience of a man of forty, and the prudence of a diplomatist, who\nhas learned to moderate his passion. When you left I had not yet been\nadmitted to the _pavillon_ in", "and no victory.\n\n\"Of the plains of Champagne and the snowy, storm-beaten but sublime\nAlps, what young man would choose the chalky, monotonous level? No; such\ncomparisons are fatal and wrong on the threshold of the Mairie. Alas!\nonly the experience of life can teach us that marriage excludes passion,\nthat a family cannot have its foundation on the tempests of love. After\nhaving dreamed of impossible love, with its infinite caprices, after\nhaving tasted the tormenting delights of", "\n\"'When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married.\nOur respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court,\nhindered us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the\nfurniture; we lived on, as we had done in the past, as children.\nHowever, I went into society; I initiated my wife into the world of\nfashion; and I regarded it as one of my duties to instruct her.\n\n\"'I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such\ncircumstances as ours", "\"Are not men wrong too when they come to us and make a young girl a wife\nwhile cherishing at the bottom of their heart some angelic image, and\ncomparing us to those unknown rivals, to perfections often borrowed from\na remembrance, and always finding us wanting?\"\n\n\"Mademoiselle, you would be right if marriage were based on passion; and\nthat was the mistake of those two, who will soon be no more. Marriage\nwith heart-deep love on both sides would be Paradise.\"\n\nMademoiselle des Touches turned from the", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "enuous heart. She looked to the\nfuture as a perpetual fete. Innocent and pure, no delirium had disturbed\nher dream. Shame and grief had never tinged her cheek nor moistened\nher eye. She did not even inquire into the secret of her involuntary\nemotions on a fine spring day. And then, she felt that she was weak and\ndestined to obedience, and she awaited marriage without wishing for\nit. Her smiling imagination knew nothing of the corruption--necessary\nperhaps--which literature imparts by depicting", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", "useless labor, and of privations which have grieved me\ndeeply. In it I proposed an arrangement of which the stipulations will\nrelieve all your fears, and make our domestic life possible. I have much\nto reproach myself with, and in seven years of sorrow I have discovered\nall my errors. I misunderstood marriage. I failed to scent danger when\nit threatened you. An angel was in the house. The Lord bid me guard it\nwell! The Lord has punished me for my audacious confidence.\n\n\"'You cannot give yourself a single lash without striking", "to finish reading it.\nMy uncle signed to me, and I rose.\n\n\"'Let us leave the Countess,' said he.\n\n\"'You are going already Maurice?' she said, without looking at me.\n\n\"She rose, and still reading, followed us to the door. On the threshold\nshe took my hand, pressed it very affectionately, and said, 'We shall\nmeet again...'\n\n\"'No,' I replied, wringing her hand, so that she cried out. 'You love\nyour husband. I leave to-morrow.'\n\n\"", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "Though the ambassador\nwas a distinguished man of letters, the celebrated lady had refused to\nyield to his advances, dreading what the English call an exhibition;\nbut she had drawn in the claws of her refusals when it was proposed that\nthey should spend a farewell day at the Consul's villa. Leon de Lora had\ntold Camille that her presence at the villa was the only return he\ncould make to the Ambassador and his wife, the two Genoese noblemen, the\nConsul and his wife. So Mademoiselle des Touches", "not seemed to wish to marry.\nNevertheless, after living in the town for two years, and after certain\nsteps taken by the Ambassador during his visits to the Genoese Court,\nthe marriage was decided on. The young man withdrew his former refusal,\nless on account of the touching affection of Onorina Pedrotti than by\nreason of an unknown incident, one of those crises of private life which\nare so instantly buried under the daily tide of interests that, at a\nsubsequent date, the most natural actions seem inexplicable.\n\nThis involution of causes sometimes" ], [ "may be, is his story.\n\n\"'My father had a ward, rich and lovely, who was sixteen at the time\nwhen I came back from college to live in this old house. Honorine, who\nhad been brought up by my mother, was just awakening to life. Full of\ngrace and of childish ways, she dreamed of happiness as she would have\ndreamed of jewels; perhaps happiness seemed to her the jewel of the\nsoul. Her piety was not free from puerile pleasures; for everything,\neven religion, was poetry to her ing", "ra with four lights, screened by lamp-shades, were still\nburning at the opposite ends of the writing-table, and showed plainly\nthat the magistrate rose long before daylight. His hands, which I saw\nwhen he took hold of the bell-pull to summon his servant, were extremely\nfine, and as white as a woman's.\n\n\"As I tell you this story,\" said the Consul-General, interrupting\nhimself, \"I am altering the titles and the social position of this\ngentleman, while placing him in circumstances analogous", "the passions; she knew\nnothing of the world, and was ignorant of all the dangers of society.\nThe dear child had suffered so little that she had not even developed\nher courage. In short, her guilelessness would have led her to walk\nfearless among serpents, like the ideal figure of Innocence a painter\nonce created. We lived together like two brothers.\n\n\"'At the end of a year I said to her one day, in the garden of this\nhouse, by the basin, as we stood throwing crumbs to the fish:\n\n\"", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", ";\nthe look of a happy man, and the look of an unhappy man. Two or three\ntimes at such a moment he had taken me by the arm and led me on; then\nhe had said, 'What have you come to ask?' instead of pouring out his\njoy into my heart that opened to him. But more often, especially since\nI could do his work for him and write his reports, the unhappy man would\nsit for hours staring at the goldfish that swarmed in a handsome marble\nbasin in the middle of the garden, round which grew an amphitheatre\n", "not enough for him; there were\nfrightful struggles in his mind, of which some echoes reached me.\nFinally, he would give utterance to harrowing aspirations for happiness,\nand it seemed to me he ought yet to be happy; but what was the obstacle?\nWas there a woman he loved? This was a question I asked myself. You may\nimagine the extent of the circles of torment that my mind had searched\nbefore coming to so simple and so terrible a question. Notwithstanding\nhis efforts, my patron did not succeed in stifling the movements of his", "\naway, he finished his story with this revelation:--\n\n\"'This is the drama of my soul, but it is not the actual living drama\nwhich is at this moment being acted in Paris! The interior drama\ninterests nobody. I know it; and you will one day admit that it is so,\nyou, who at this moment shed tears with me; no one can burden his heart\nor his skin with another's pain. The measure of our sufferings is in\nourselves.--You even understand my sorrows only by very vague analogy.\nCould you see me cal", "seller is master in his own premises, especially when he has no wife.'\n\n\"'He is perfectly right,' said the Countess.\n\n\"'Yes, but he ended by saying, \"I will go,\" when I told him that he\nwould greatly distress a lady living in retirement, who found her\ngreatest solace in growing flowers.'\n\n\"Next day a signal from Gobain informed me that I was expected. After\nthe Countess' breakfast, when she was walking to and fro in front of\nher house, I broke out some palings and went towards her", "change; I listen\nvaguely, I stare into the darkness, I have no liking for my work, and\nafter a thousand fatigues I find life once more--everyday life. Is this\na warning from heaven? I ask myself----'\n\n\"After three months of this struggle between two diplomates, concealed\nunder the semblance of youthful melancholy, and a woman whose disgust of\nlife made her invulnerable, I told the Count that it was impossible\nto drag this tortoise out of her shell; it must be broken. The evening\nbefore,", ". I had dressed\nmyself like a countryman, in an old pair of gray flannel trousers,\nheavy wooden shoes, and shabby shooting coat, a peaked cap on my head,\na ragged bandana round my neck, hands soiled with mould, and a dibble in\nmy hand.\n\n\"'Madame,' said the housekeeper, 'this good man is your neighbor.'\n\n\"The Countess was not alarmed. I saw at last the woman whom her own\nconduct and her husband's confidences had made me so curious to", "man, and in mine, out of respect for your own dignity,\nyou must read it, or you will be no better than a wilful, passionate\nchild. You must make this sacrifice to the world, to the law, and to\nGod.'\n\n\"As she saw in this concession no attack on her womanly resolve, she\nconsented. All the labor or four or five months had been building up to\nthis moment. But do not the Pyramids end in a point on which a bird may\nperch? The Count had set all his hopes on this supreme instant,", "bands over her cheeks, her feet on a small\nwooden stool, and showing a little way beyond her skirt. She did not\nrise; she showed me with her hand to the seat by her side, saying:\n\n\"'Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?'\n\n\"'Life as you have made it, I replied. 'But not the life I propose to\nmake for you; for, if you choose, you may be very happy....'\n\n\"'How?' said she; her whole person was a question.\n\n\"'Your letter is in the Count", "comes every day to seek its prey--a fragment of\nmy life. I am rent and I smile. I smile on two children, but it is the\nelder, the dead one, that will triumph! I told you so before. The dead\nchild calls me, and I am going to him.\n\n\"'The intimacy of marriage without love is a position in which my soul\nfeels degraded every hour. I can never weep or give myself up to dreams\nbut when I am alone. The exigencies of society, the care of my child,\nand that of Octave'", "to me that this is the only life you can lead, that it is\npreferable to that of the Comtesse Octave, rich, admired, in one of the\nfinest houses in Paris, beloved by her husband, a happy mother... and I\nwill decide in your favor.'\n\n\"'But,' said she, 'will there never be a man who understands me?'\n\n\"'No. And that is why I appeal to religion to decide between us. The\nCure of the White Friars is a saint, seventy-five years of age. My uncle\nis not", "--I felt vast depths beneath\nhis toil, beneath his acts of politeness, his mask of benignity, his\nassumption of resignation, which so closely resembled calmness that it\nis easy to mistake it. Just as when walking through forest-lands certain\nsoils give forth under our feet a sound which enables us to guess\nwhether they are dense masses of stone or a void; so intense egoism,\nthough hidden under the flowers of politeness, and subterranean caverns\neaten out by sorrow sound hollow under the constant touch of familiar\nlife", "play at hide-and-seek in this way?\" said Leon\nde Lora.\n\n\"_Cara vita_, go and put your children to bed, and send me by Gina the\nlittle black pocket-book that lies on my Boule cabinet,\" said the Consul\nto his wife.\n\nShe rose without a reply, which shows that she loved her husband very\ntruly, for she already knew French enough to understand that her husband\nwas getting rid of her.\n\n\"I will tell you a story in which I played a part, and after that we can\ndiscuss it", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "heart, are all we are concerned with, and you would\nhave blamed me if I had not sketched them for you.\n\n\"I was very near forgetting my part as a half-crazy lout, clumsy, and by\nno means chivalrous.\n\n\"'I am told, madame, that you are fond of flowers?'\n\n\"'I am an artificial flower-maker,' said she. 'After growing flowers, I\nimitate them, like a mother who is artist enough to have the pleasure of\npainting her children.... That is enough to", "is because he suffered\nas animals do. Of what use are complaints when they are not an elegy\nlike Manfred's, nor bitter mockery like Don Juan's, nor a reverie like\nChilde Harold's? Nothing shall be known of me. My heart is a poem that I\nlay before God.'\n\n\"'If I chose----' said I.\n\n\"'If?' she repeated.\n\n\"'I have no interest in anything,' I replied, 'so I cannot be\ninquisitive; but, if I chose, I could know all your secrets by\n", "you should be as happy as such a woman ought to be. Who\ncan tell whether the pain I have involuntarily caused you was not a\nvoluntary act?'\n\n\"'Yes,' replied she with threatening audacity, 'I insist on it. Be\ncurious, and tell me all that you can find out about me; but,' and she\nheld up her finger, 'you must also tell me by what means you obtain\nyour information. The preservation of the small happiness I enjoy here\ndepends on the steps you take.'\n\n\"'That means that you will fly----'" ], [ "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "may be, is his story.\n\n\"'My father had a ward, rich and lovely, who was sixteen at the time\nwhen I came back from college to live in this old house. Honorine, who\nhad been brought up by my mother, was just awakening to life. Full of\ngrace and of childish ways, she dreamed of happiness as she would have\ndreamed of jewels; perhaps happiness seemed to her the jewel of the\nsoul. Her piety was not free from puerile pleasures; for everything,\neven religion, was poetry to her ing", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", ";\nthe look of a happy man, and the look of an unhappy man. Two or three\ntimes at such a moment he had taken me by the arm and led me on; then\nhe had said, 'What have you come to ask?' instead of pouring out his\njoy into my heart that opened to him. But more often, especially since\nI could do his work for him and write his reports, the unhappy man would\nsit for hours staring at the goldfish that swarmed in a handsome marble\nbasin in the middle of the garden, round which grew an amphitheatre\n", "play at hide-and-seek in this way?\" said Leon\nde Lora.\n\n\"_Cara vita_, go and put your children to bed, and send me by Gina the\nlittle black pocket-book that lies on my Boule cabinet,\" said the Consul\nto his wife.\n\nShe rose without a reply, which shows that she loved her husband very\ntruly, for she already knew French enough to understand that her husband\nwas getting rid of her.\n\n\"I will tell you a story in which I played a part, and after that we can\ndiscuss it", "--I felt vast depths beneath\nhis toil, beneath his acts of politeness, his mask of benignity, his\nassumption of resignation, which so closely resembled calmness that it\nis easy to mistake it. Just as when walking through forest-lands certain\nsoils give forth under our feet a sound which enables us to guess\nwhether they are dense masses of stone or a void; so intense egoism,\nthough hidden under the flowers of politeness, and subterranean caverns\neaten out by sorrow sound hollow under the constant touch of familiar\nlife", ", for it seems to me childish to practise with the scalpel on\nan imaginary body. Begin by dissecting a corpse.\"\n\nEvery one prepared to listen, with all the greater readiness because\nthey had all talked enough, and this is the moment to be chosen for\ntelling a story. This, then, is the Consul-General's tale:--\n\n\"When I was two-and-twenty, and had taken my degree in law, my old\nuncle, the Abbe Loraux, then seventy-two years old, felt it necessary\nto provide", "change; I listen\nvaguely, I stare into the darkness, I have no liking for my work, and\nafter a thousand fatigues I find life once more--everyday life. Is this\na warning from heaven? I ask myself----'\n\n\"After three months of this struggle between two diplomates, concealed\nunder the semblance of youthful melancholy, and a woman whose disgust of\nlife made her invulnerable, I told the Count that it was impossible\nto drag this tortoise out of her shell; it must be broken. The evening\nbefore,", "comes every day to seek its prey--a fragment of\nmy life. I am rent and I smile. I smile on two children, but it is the\nelder, the dead one, that will triumph! I told you so before. The dead\nchild calls me, and I am going to him.\n\n\"'The intimacy of marriage without love is a position in which my soul\nfeels degraded every hour. I can never weep or give myself up to dreams\nbut when I am alone. The exigencies of society, the care of my child,\nand that of Octave'", "ra with four lights, screened by lamp-shades, were still\nburning at the opposite ends of the writing-table, and showed plainly\nthat the magistrate rose long before daylight. His hands, which I saw\nwhen he took hold of the bell-pull to summon his servant, were extremely\nfine, and as white as a woman's.\n\n\"As I tell you this story,\" said the Consul-General, interrupting\nhimself, \"I am altering the titles and the social position of this\ngentleman, while placing him in circumstances analogous", "I turned him out.\n\n\"'If it were not that I feel all my noblest faculties as a man\nsatisfied, happy, expansive; if the part I am playing were not that of\ndivine fatherhood; if I did not drink in delight by every pore, there\nare moments when I should believe that I was a monomaniac. Sometimes\nat night I hear the jingling bells of madness. I dread the violent\ntransitions from a feeble hope, which sometimes shines and flashes up,\nto complete despair, falling as low", "a child who might be as strong as an\nangel; and, like the angel, once hurt in her nature, she would be\nimplacable.\n\n\"Coldness on that face must no doubt be death to those on whom her eyes\nhad smiled, for whom her set lips had parted, for those whose soul had\ndrunk in the melody of that voice, lending to her words the poetry of\nsong by its peculiar intonation. Inhaling the perfume of violets that\naccompanied her, I understood how the memory of this wife had arrested\n", "--No,\nnever.'\n\n\"'Ah! you love him,' I said.\n\n\"'I esteem him, respect him, venerate him; he never has done me the\nsmallest hurt; he is kind, he is tender; but I can never more love him.\nHowever,' she went on, 'let us talk no more of this. Discussion makes\neverything small. I will express my notions on this subject in writing\nto you, for at this moment they are suffocating me; I am feverish, my\nfeet are standing in the ashes", "\naway, he finished his story with this revelation:--\n\n\"'This is the drama of my soul, but it is not the actual living drama\nwhich is at this moment being acted in Paris! The interior drama\ninterests nobody. I know it; and you will one day admit that it is so,\nyou, who at this moment shed tears with me; no one can burden his heart\nor his skin with another's pain. The measure of our sufferings is in\nourselves.--You even understand my sorrows only by very vague analogy.\nCould you see me cal", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "every key of irony and disdain. He did not\nmock at those who still follow hope into the swamps whither she leads,\nnor those who climb a peak to be alone, nor those who persist in the\nfight, reddening the arena with their blood and strewing it with their\nillusions. He looked on the world as a whole; he mastered its beliefs;\nhe listened to its complaining; he was doubtful of affection, and yet\nmore of self-sacrifice; but this great and stern judge pitied them,\nor admired them, not with", "bands over her cheeks, her feet on a small\nwooden stool, and showing a little way beyond her skirt. She did not\nrise; she showed me with her hand to the seat by her side, saying:\n\n\"'Now, is not life at a deadlock for me?'\n\n\"'Life as you have made it, I replied. 'But not the life I propose to\nmake for you; for, if you choose, you may be very happy....'\n\n\"'How?' said she; her whole person was a question.\n\n\"'Your letter is in the Count", "on a wrapper\nand come down to me.\n\n\"'You are not the cause of this attack,' said she. 'I am subject to\nthese spasms, a sort of cramp of the heart----'\n\n\"'And will you not tell me of your troubles?' said I, in a voice which\ncannot be affected, as I wiped away my tears. 'Have you not just now\ntold me that you have been a mother, and have been so unhappy as to lose\nyour child?'\n\n\"'Marie!' she called as she rang the bell. Gob", "his own words.\n\n\"'I am very ridiculous,' he added, after a long pause, looking at me, as\nif craving a glance of pity.\n\n\"'No, monsieur, you are very unhappy.'\n\n\"'Ah yes!' said he, taking up the thread of his confidences. 'From the\nviolence of my speech you may, you must believe in the intensity of a\nphysical passion which for nine years has absorbed all my faculties; but\nthat is nothing in comparison with the worship I feel for the soul, the\nmind, the heart", "Finally, must I make a\nhorrible confession? I shall always feel at my bosom the lips of a child\nconceived in rapture and joy, and in the belief in happiness, of a child\nI nursed for seven months, that I shall bear in my womb all the days of\nmy life. If other children should draw their nourishment from me, they\nwould drink in tears mingling with the milk, and turning it sour. I\nseem a light thing, you regard me as a child--Ah yes! I have a child's\nmemory, the memory" ], [ "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", ", and manias become the subject of\ninvoluntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less\nthan a marriage.\n\n\"During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I\nlearned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years\nold. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety\nof his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and\nof stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man--an\nextraordinary man to those who knew him well", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "Octave. 'Your name?' he added to me.\n\n\"'Maurice.'\n\n\"'He has taken his doctor's degree in law,' my uncle observed.\n\n\"'Very good, very good!' said the Count, looking at me from head to\nfoot. 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I hope that for your nephew's sake in the first\ninstance, and then for mine, you will do me the honor of dining here\nevery Monday. That will be our family dinner, our family party.'\n\n\"My uncle and the Count then began to talk", "was laid down for me by\nthe Count, whose whole intellectual powers were directed to the most\ntrifling incidents of the tragi-comedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As\nsoon as the Countess had gone to bed, at about eleven at night, Octave,\nMadame Gobain, and I sat in council. I heard the old woman's report to\nthe Count of his wife's least proceedings during the day. He inquired\ninto everything: her meals, her occupations, her frame of mind, her\nplans for the mor", "\"It was ten o'clock. The twilight of July and a glorious moon lent\nus their misty light. Gusts of mingled perfumes soothed the soul; the\nCountess was clinking in her hand the five gold pieces given to her by\na supposititious dealer in fashionable frippery, another of Octave's\naccomplices found for him by a judge, M. Popinot.\n\n\"'I earn my living by amusing myself,' said she; 'I am free, when\nmen, armed with their", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", "te\nOctave.--'By taking you this morning to M. le Comte Octave, I hope to\nsecure you his patronage, which, if you are so fortunate as to please\nthat virtuous statesman--as I make no doubt you can--will be worth, at\nleast, as much as the fortune I might have accumulated for you, if my\nbrother-in-law's ruin and my sister's death had not fallen on me like a\nthunder-bolt from a clear sky.'\n\n\"'Are you the Count's director?'\n\n", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "that you know in its light curls; and in it were some\nsprays of Cape heath; she wore a white muslin gown, a white sash with\nlong floating ends. You know what she is in such simplicity, but that\nday she was a bride, the Honorine of long past days. My joy was chilled\nat once, for her face was terribly grave; there were fires beneath the\nice.\n\n\"'\"Octave,\" she said, \"I will return as your wife when you will. But\nunderstand clearly that this submission has its dangers. I can be", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "\nthen--Good-night,' she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious\ngesture.\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow, then,' I replied with a smile, to keep up the\nappearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down\nthe avenue I repeated the words:\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow.'\n\n\"Octave's anxiety was equal to Honorine's. The Count and I remained\ntogether till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of\nthe Bastille", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", "\n\"Comte Octave had introduced me to the best houses in Paris, whither I\nwent in his stead, with his servants and carriage, on the too frequent\noccasions when, on the point of starting, he changed his mind, and sent\nfor a hackney cab to take him--Where?--that was the mystery. By the\nwelcome I met with I could judge of the Count's feelings towards me, and\nthe earnestness of his recommendations. He supplied all my wants with\nthe thoughtfulness of a father, and with all the greater liberality\nbecause my mod", "\n\"'When I was six-and-twenty, and Honorine nineteen, we were married.\nOur respect for my father and mother, old folks of the Bourbon Court,\nhindered us from making this house fashionable, or renewing the\nfurniture; we lived on, as we had done in the past, as children.\nHowever, I went into society; I initiated my wife into the world of\nfashion; and I regarded it as one of my duties to instruct her.\n\n\"'I recognized afterwards that marriages contracted under such\ncircumstances as ours" ], [ "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "the Count on the threshold of debauchery, and how impossible it would be\never to forget a creature who really was a flower to the touch, a flower\nto the eye, a flower of fragrance, a heavenly flower to the soul....\nHonorine inspired devotion, chivalrous devotion, regardless of reward. A\nman on seeing her must say to himself:\n\n\"'Think, and I will divine your thought; speak, and I will obey. If my\nlife, sacrificed in torments, can procure you one day's happiness, take\nmy", "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "? Yes, dear, my affection is neither mean nor\ngrasping; it is one of those which will never let any annoyance last\nlong enough to pucker the brow of the child it worships. What can you\nthink of the companion of your childhood, Honorine, if you believe\nhim capable of accepting kisses given in trembling, of living between\ndelight and anxiety? Do not fear that you will be exposed to the laments\nof a suppliant passion; I would not want you back until I felt certain\nof my own strength to leave you in perfect freedom.\n\n\"", "whose arms she could\nthrow herself.'\n\n\"'You are young,' he answered; 'you do not know that in a soul tossed by\nsuch dreadful alternatives the will is like waters of a lake lashed by a\ntempest; the wind changes every instant, and the waves are driven now to\none shore, now to the other. During this night the chances are quite\nas great that on seeing me Honorine might rush into my arms as that she\nwould throw herself out of the window.'\n\n\"'And you would accept the equal chances,' said I.\n\n\"'Well,", "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "by a smile, by a\ncommand from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered\nthe terrible words you once quoted to me, \"Lucretia's dagger wrote in\nletters of blood the watchword of woman's charter--Liberty!\" and\nthey froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine's\nconsent, and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess\nthe storms that distracted me when I left as when I came?\n\n\"'At last I painted my situation in", "ails him then?' asked the Countess.\n\n\"'He has studied too hard,' replied Gobain; 'he has turned misanthropic.\nAnd he has his reasons for disliking women--well, if you want to know\nall that is said about him----'\n\n\"'Well,' said Honorine, 'madmen frighten me less than sane folks; I will\nspeak to him myself! Tell him that I beg him to come here. If I do not\nsucceed, I will send for the cure.'\n\n\"The day after this conversation, as", "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "as man can fall. A few days since I\nwas seriously considering the horrible end of the story of Lovelace and\nClarissa Harlowe, and saying to myself, if Honorine were the mother of a\nchild of mine, must she not necessarily return under her husband's roof?\n\n\"'And I have such complete faith in a happy future, that ten months\nago I bought and paid for one of the handsomest houses in the Faubourg\nSaint-Honore. If I win back Honorine, I will not allow her to see this\nhouse again, nor", "to dine with the\nCount that day. However handsome Mademoiselle de Courteville might be, I\nfelt, on seeing her once more, that love has three aspects, and that\nthe women who can inspire us with perfect love are very rare. As I\ninvoluntarily compared Amelie with Honorine, I found the erring wife\nmore attractive than the pure girl. To Honorine's heart fidelity had not\nbeen a duty, but the inevitable; while Amelie would serenely pronounce\nthe most solemn promises without knowing their purport", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", ", he had quitted the spot on the Boulevards\nwhere we had agreed to meet.\n\n\"'What a night my poor child will go through!' he exclaimed, when I had\nfinished my account of the scene that had just taken place. 'Supposing I\nwere to go to her!' he added; 'supposing she were to see me suddenly?'\n\n\"'At this moment she is capable of throwing herself out of the window,'\nI replied. 'The Countess is one of those Lucretias who could not survive\nany violence, even if it were done by a man into" ], [ "ased to worship her. From the day when she left me I have lived on\nmemory; one by one I recall the pleasures for which Honorine no doubt\nhad no taste.\n\n\"'Oh!' said he, seeing the amazement in my eyes, 'do not make a hero of\nme, do not think me such a fool, as the Colonel of the Empire would say,\nas to have sought no diversion. Alas, my boy! I was either too young or\ntoo much in love; I have not in the whole world met with another woman.\nAfter frightful struggles with myself", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "the Rue Saint-Maur, but a letter had\npromised me that I should have permission--the mild and melancholy\nletter of a woman who dreaded the agitations of a meeting. After waiting\nfor more than a month, I made bold to call, and desired Gobain to\ninquire whether I could be received. I sat down in a chair in the avenue\nnear the lodge, my head buried in my hands, and there I remained for\nalmost an hour.\n\n\"'\"Madame had to dress,\" said Gobain, to hide Honorine'", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", "had been assisted, she was told--\"By the\nSisters of Charity in the neighborhood--by the Maternity Society--by the\nparish priest, who took an interest in her.\"\n\n\"'This woman, whose pride amounts to a vice, has shown a power of\nresistance in misfortune, which on some evenings I call the obstinacy of\na mule. Honorine was bent on earning her living. My wife works! For five\nyears past I have lodged her in the Rue Saint-Maur, in a charming little\nhouse,", "ife? Was it through her senses? Was it the magnetism of misfortune\nor of genius? Which of these powers had taken her by storm or misled\nher?--I would not know. The blow was so terrible, that for a month I\nremained stunned. Afterwards, reflection counseled me to continue in\nignorance, and Honorine's misfortunes have since taught me too much\nabout all these things.--So far, Maurice, the story is commonplace\nenough; but one word will change it all: I love Honorine, I have never\nce", "a letter to her, giving up the\nattempt to speak of it. Honorine made no answer, and she was so sad that\nI made as though I had not written. I was deeply grieved by the idea\nthat I could have distressed her; she read my heart and forgave me. And\nthis was how. Three days ago she received me, for the first time, in\nher own blue-and-white room. It was bright with flowers, dressed, and\nlighted up. Honorine was in a dress that made her bewitching. Her hair\nframed that face", "by a smile, by a\ncommand from those proud, calm eyes, untouched by passion. I remembered\nthe terrible words you once quoted to me, \"Lucretia's dagger wrote in\nletters of blood the watchword of woman's charter--Liberty!\" and\nthey froze me. I felt imperatively how necessary to me was Honorine's\nconsent, and how impossible it was to wring it from her. Could she guess\nthe storms that distracted me when I left as when I came?\n\n\"'At last I painted my situation in", "Consul, and was immediately\njoined by Claude Vignon, who said in her ear:\n\n\"A bit of a coxcomb is M. de l'Hostal.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied she, whispering to Claude these words: \"for he has not yet\nguessed that Honorine would have loved him.--Oh!\" she exclaimed, seeing\nthe Consul's wife approaching, \"his wife was listening! Unhappy man!\"\n\nEleven was striking by all the clocks, and the guests went home on foot\nalong the seashore.", "? Yes, dear, my affection is neither mean nor\ngrasping; it is one of those which will never let any annoyance last\nlong enough to pucker the brow of the child it worships. What can you\nthink of the companion of your childhood, Honorine, if you believe\nhim capable of accepting kisses given in trembling, of living between\ndelight and anxiety? Do not fear that you will be exposed to the laments\nof a suppliant passion; I would not want you back until I felt certain\nof my own strength to leave you in perfect freedom.\n\n\"", "\nresigned----\"\n\n\"'I made a movement.\n\n\"'\"Yes,\" she went on, \"I understand: resignation offends you, and you\nwant what I cannot give--Love. Religion and pity led me to renounce my\nvow of solitude; you are here!\" She paused.\n\n\"'\"At first,\" she went on, \"you asked no more. Now you demand your wife.\nWell, here I give you Honorine, such as she is, without deceiving you as\nto what she will be.--What shall I be? A mother?", "Honorine is my real concern. To\nrecover my wife is my only study; to guard her in her cage, without her\nsuspecting that she is in my power; to satisfy her needs, to supply the\nlittle pleasure she allows herself, to be always about her like a sylph\nwithout allowing her to see or to suspect me, for if she did, the future\nwould be lost,--that is my life, my true life.--For seven years I\nhave never gone to bed without going first to see the light of her\nnight-lamp, or her shadow", "I found a letter in which the Countess announced her flight. The\nletter did not lack dignity, for it is in the nature of women to\npreserve some virtues even when committing that horrible sin.--The\nstory is now that my wife went abroad in a ship that was wrecked; she\nis supposed to be dead. I have lived alone for seven years!--Enough for\nthis evening, Maurice. We will talk of my situation when I have grown\nused to the idea of speaking of it to you. When we suffer from a\nchronic disease, it needs time to become accustomed", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "would have been possible to believe that\nthis violet buried in her thicket of flowers was happy. In a few days\nwe had reached a certain degree of intimacy, the result of our close\nneighborhood and of the Countess' conviction that I was indifferent to\nwomen. A look would have spoilt all, and I never allowed a thought of\nher to be seen in my eyes. Honorine chose to regard me as an old friend.\nHer manner to me was the outcome of a kind of pity. Her looks, her\nvoice, her words, all showed that she was a hundred", "me. Have mercy\non me, my dear Honorine. I so fully appreciated your susceptibilities\nthat I would not bring you back to the old house in the Rue Payenne,\nwhere I can live without you, but which I could not bear to see again\nwith you. I am decorating, with great pleasure, another house, in the\nFaubourg Saint-Honore, to which, in hope, I conduct not a wife whom I\nowe to her ignorance of life, and secured to me by law, but a sister\nwho will allow me to press on her brow such", ", Madame Gobain, the old woman of impeccable discretion whom\nI was so lucky as to find, and whose affection Honorine has won. But her\nzeal, like that of the gardener, is kept hot by the promise of reward at\nthe moment of success. The porter and his wife cost me dreadfully dear\nfor the same reasons. However, for three years Honorine has been happy,\nbelieving that she owes to her own toil all the luxury of flowers,\ndress, and comfort.\n\n\"'Oh! I know what you", "to chat with the old woman, to\nhear from her all that Honorine has done during the day, the lightest\nword she has spoken, for a single exclamation might betray to me the\nsecrets of that soul which is wilfully deaf and dumb. Honorine is pious;\nshe attends the Church services and prays, but she has never been to\nconfession or taken the Communion; she foresees what a priest would\ntell her. She will not listen to the advice, to the injunction, that she\nshould return to me. This horror", "walked up and down the path behind the\nhouse, weeping, and doubting my success. I only wished to give up this\npart of the bird-catcher which I had so rashly assumed. Madame Gobain,\nwho came down and found me with my face wet with tears, hastily went up\nagain to say to the Countess:\n\n\"'What has happened, madame? Monsieur Maurice is crying like a child.'\n\n\"Roused to action by the evil interpretation that might be put on our\nmutual behavior, she summoned superhuman strength to put", "evening at Honorine's house,\nwhither I presently returned. It was now August; the day had been hot\nand stormy, but the storm hung overhead, the sky was like copper; the\nscent of the flowers was heavy, I felt as if I were in an oven, and\ncaught myself wishing that the Countess might have set out for the\nIndies; but she was sitting on a wooden bench shaped like a sofa, under\nan arbor, in a loose dress of white muslin fastened with blue bows,\nher hair unadorned in waving" ], [ "meet. It\nwas in the early days of May. The air was pure, the weather serene; the\nverdure of the first foliage, the fragrance of spring formed a setting\nfor this creature of sorrow. As I then saw Honorine I understood\nOctave's passion and the truthfulness of his description, 'A heavenly\nflower!'\n\n\"Her pallor was what first struck me by its peculiar tone of white--for\nthere are as many tones of white as of red or blue. On looking at the\nCountess, the eye seemed to", "ore him, do you understand? So I am\nafraid lest he should follow me. I now write to beg you in that case\nto be the little Count's guardian. You will find with this a codicil in\nwhich I have expressed my wish; but do not produce it excepting in case\nof need, for perhaps I am fatuously vain. My devotion may perhaps leave\nOctave inconsolable but willing to live.--Poor Octave! I wish him a\nbetter wife than I am, for he deserves to be well loved.\n\n\"'Since", "\nhis tone made such an impression that there was no more talk of wives or\nmarriage.\n\n\"When coffee had been served, the two Counts and the two priests stole\naway, seeing that poor Octave had fallen into a fit of melancholy which\nprevented his noticing their disappearance. My patron was sitting in an\narmchair by the fire, in the attitude of a man crushed.\n\n\"'You now know the secret of my life, said he to me on noticing that we\nwere alone. 'After three years of married life, one evening when I came\nin", "\n\n\"'Monsieur,' said Honorine, folding up the letter, which she placed in\nher bosom, and looking at my uncle, 'thank you very much. I will avail\nmyself of Monsieur le Comte's permission to remain here----'\n\n\"'Ah!' I exclaimed.\n\n\"This exclamation made my uncle look at me uneasily, and won from the\nCountess a mischievous glance, which enlightened me as to her motives.\n\n\"Honorine had wanted to ascertain whether I were", "it not a remarkable thing in\nParis to keep anger always seething for ten years? What had Octave done\nsince this great misfortune--for the separation of husband and wife is\na great misfortune in our day, when domestic life has become a social\nquestion, which it never was of old?\n\n\"We allowed a few days to pass on the watch, for great sorrows have a\ndiffidence of their own; but at last, one evening, the Count said in a\ngrave voice:\n\n\"'Stay.'\n\n\n\n\"This, as nearly as", "an actor, a bird\nsnarer; and I had the melancholy satisfaction of deceiving her by my\nexclamation, which was one of those cries from the heart which women\nunderstand so well.\n\n\"'Ah, Maurice,' said she, 'you know how to love.'\n\n\"The light that flashed in my eyes was another reply which would have\ndissipated the Countess' uneasiness if she still had any. Thus the Count\nfound me useful to the very last.\n\n\"Honorine then took out the Count's letter again", ", and manias become the subject of\ninvoluntary study. The union of their two minds is at once more and less\nthan a marriage.\n\n\"During these months the Count and I reciprocally studied each other. I\nlearned with astonishment that Comte Octave was but thirty-seven years\nold. The merely superficial peacefulness of his life and the propriety\nof his conduct were the outcome not solely of a deep sense of duty and\nof stoical reflection; in my constant intercourse with this man--an\nextraordinary man to those who knew him well", "was laid down for me by\nthe Count, whose whole intellectual powers were directed to the most\ntrifling incidents of the tragi-comedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Maur. As\nsoon as the Countess had gone to bed, at about eleven at night, Octave,\nMadame Gobain, and I sat in council. I heard the old woman's report to\nthe Count of his wife's least proceedings during the day. He inquired\ninto everything: her meals, her occupations, her frame of mind, her\nplans for the mor", "reproaches the Count\naddressed to himself, with all the good faith of an anatomist seeking\nthe cause of a disease which might be overlooked by his brethren; but\nhis merciful indulgence struck me then as really worthy of that of Jesus\nChrist when He rescued the woman taken in adultery.\n\n\"'It was eighteen months after my father's death--my mother followed him\nto the tomb in a few months--when the fearful night came which surprised\nme by Honorine's farewell letter. What poetic delusion had seduced my\nw", "hand, I may have made\nthe mistake of trusting too entirely to that artless nature; I kept no\nwatch over the Countess, in whom revolt seemed to me impossible? Alas!\nneither in politics nor in domestic life has it yet been ascertained\nwhether empires and happiness are wrecked by too much confidence or too\nmuch severity! Perhaps again, the husband failed to realize Honorine's\ngirlish dreams? Who can tell, while happy days last, what precepts he\nhas neglected?'\n\n\"I remember only the broad outlines of the", ", like two generals who, on the eve of a battle, calculate\nall the chances, examine the ground, and perceive that the victory must\ndepend on an opportunity to be seized half-way through the fight. These\ntwo divided beings would each lie awake, one in the hope, the other\nin agonizing dread of reunion. The real dramas of life are not in\ncircumstances, but in feelings; they are played in the heart, or, if you\nplease, in that vast realm which we ought to call the Spiritual World.\nOctave and Honorine moved", "\nthen--Good-night,' she added shortly, dismissing me with an imperious\ngesture.\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow, then,' I replied with a smile, to keep up the\nappearance of indifference I had given to the scene. But as I went down\nthe avenue I repeated the words:\n\n\"'The battle is to-morrow.'\n\n\"Octave's anxiety was equal to Honorine's. The Count and I remained\ntogether till two in the morning, walking to and fro by the trenches of\nthe Bastille", "with the man she\nloves. To the last moment, as you know, I cried to your heart, in the\nconfessional, and to my husband, \"Have mercy!\" But there was no mercy.\nWell, and I am dying, dying with stupendous courage. No courtesan was\never more gay than I. My poor Octave is happy; I let his love feed on\nthe illusions of my heart. I throw all my powers into this terrible\nmasquerade; the actress is applauded, feasted, smothered in flowers; but\nthe invisible rival", ". I had but one name bestowed on\nme, Honorine, as I had but one heart. My husband had the young girl, a\nworthless lover had the woman--there is nothing left!--Then let myself\nbe loved! that is the great idea you mean to utter to me. Oh! but I\nstill am something, and I rebel at the idea of being a prostitute! Yes,\nby the light of the conflagration I saw clearly; and I tell you--well, I\ncould imagine surrendering to another man's love, but to Octave's?", "te\nOctave.--'By taking you this morning to M. le Comte Octave, I hope to\nsecure you his patronage, which, if you are so fortunate as to please\nthat virtuous statesman--as I make no doubt you can--will be worth, at\nleast, as much as the fortune I might have accumulated for you, if my\nbrother-in-law's ruin and my sister's death had not fallen on me like a\nthunder-bolt from a clear sky.'\n\n\"'Are you the Count's director?'\n\n", "to all this, and I know them by heart.\nThis suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God\nwill give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to\ncertain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made\nmy choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,\nand the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.\n\n\"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,\nmy husband is the man I", "the Baron de l'Hostal.\n\n\"He suspects the truth,\" replied the Consul, \"and that is what is\nkilling him. I remained on board the steam packet that was to take him\nto Naples till it was out of the roadstead; a small boat brought me\nback. We sat for some little time taking leave of each other--for ever,\nI fear. God only knows how much we love the confidant of our love when\nshe who inspired it is no more.\n\n\"'That man,' said Octave, 'holds a charm and wears an", "pt--not because she was touched, but because she was helpless; they\nwere tears of desperation. She had believed herself independent and\nfree; marriage weighed on her as the prison cell does on the captive.\n\n\"'I will go!' she cried through her tears. 'He forces me to it; I will\ngo where no one certainly will come after me.'\n\n\"'What,' I said, 'you would kill yourself?--Madame, you must have some\nvery powerful reasons for not wishing to return to Comte Octave.'\n\n\"'Certainly I have", "Was so pious a man a prey to vices hidden under hypocrisy?\nDid he expend all the powers of his mind to satisfy a jealousy more\ndexterous than Othello's? Did he live with some woman unworthy of him?\nOne morning, on returning from I have forgotten what shop, where I had\njust paid a bill, between the Church of Saint-Paul and the Hotel de\nVille, I came across Comte Octave in such eager conversation with an old\nwoman that he did not see me. The appearance of this hag filled me with\nstr", "him. As for you, Octave, yours\nran away from you. So we three represent every case of the conjugal\nconscience, and, no doubt, if ever divorce is brought in again, we shall\nform the committee.'\n\n\"Octave's fork dropped on his glass, broke it, and broke his plate. He\nhad turned as pale as death, and flashed a thunderous glare at M. de\nGrandville, by which he hinted at my presence, and which I caught.\n\n\"'Forgive me, my dear fellow. I did not" ] ]

[ "Why do you think the Count hid some of his past realtionship?", "What type of business did Honorine have?", "What is Maurice's job role?", "What did the count have Maurice act as to get in touch with Honorine?", "Whose parents adopted Honorine?", "Why do you think Maurice was reluctant to get married?", "How long after Maurice left the company, did Honorine die?", "Why did MAurice become Consul?", "WHy do you think Honorine was ashamed to come back?", "Who is Maurice married to?", "When Maurice was young, what job did he have, and with who?", "Who was Count Octave supposed to be married to?", "What happened to Honorine?", "What is Honorine's business?", "Does Count Octave still love Honorine?", "What job does Maurice get, to act as a go-between for Count Octave and Honorine?", "Why won't Honorine talk to Count Octave?", "What happens between Count Octave and Honorine once they finally meet again?", "Where were Maurice's dinner guests from?", "Who was Maurice a secretary to? ", "Why does Honorine leave Count Octave? ", "Why did some people accuse Maurice of initially avoiding marriage? ", "Who is the protagonist of this story? ", "What is the tone of this story? ", "How did Count Octave and Honorine meet? ", "Why didn't Honorine come back to the Count after the adventurer abandoned her? ", "After Maurice left, what happened to Honorine? ", "What happened to Count Octave after Honorine died? " ]

[ [ "Because he was in love with Honorine and she ran out on him.", "embarrassment " ], [ "FLower Business", "Flower arranging" ], [ "Secretary ", "consul" ], [ "misogynistic flower breeder", "middle man" ], [ "Count Octave", "Count Octave" ], [ "Becuase he had seen what Honorine leaving the count had done to him", "Because its hard to trust people" ], [ "2 Years", "Two years." ], [ "Maurice becamse Consul becuase of Count having him be the middle man", "He has to leave the Count's compant" ], [ "becuase she had left her husbund for a man who ended up leaving her", "Because she made a mistake" ], [ "He is married to Onorina.", "Onorina" ], [ "He was a secretary for Count Octave.", "Secretary to Count Octave" ], [ "He was supposed to be married to Honorine.", "Honorine" ], [ "Honorine had disappeared, going off with an adventurer and getting pregnant.", "died" ], [ "Honorine's business is flower arranging.", "flower arranging " ], [ "Count Octave still loves Honorine.", "Yes" ], [ "Maurice gets a job as a misogynistic flower arranger.", "Flower breeder" ], [ "She is overcome with remorse and shame.", "Shame" ], [ "Honorine and Count Octave are reunited, and then married.", "She moved in with him " ], [ "His dinner guests were from Paris.", "Paris" ], [ "Count Octave", "Count Octave." ], [ "To live with an adventurer", "for adventurer" ], [ "He fell in love with Honorine ", "He had fallen in love with Honorine" ], [ "Maurice", "Maurice." ], [ "Remorseful", "melancholy" ], [ "They grew up together because Honorine was adopted into the family. ", "His parents adopted her " ], [ "She was ashamed", "she was ashamed" ], [ "She passed away ", "She died." ], [ "He aged rapidly and died shortly after. ", "He past away shortly after." ] ]

[ [ "is in love with her, for, truth to tell,\nI am in love with her myself. I don't think I ever met a creature--a\nwoman creature, of course, I mean--with so many splendid qualities. I\nalmost fear to say it, lest it should seem to myself wrong; but I think\nshe is as good as a woman as Rupert is as a man. And what more than that\ncan I say? I thought I loved her and trusted her, and knew her all I\ncould, until this morning.\n\nI was in", "'s will.\"\n\n\"And what, may I ask you,\" said father, \"do you want in the way of advice\nfrom one of the trustees of your dear mother's will?\" Rupert got very\nred, and was going to say something rude--I knew it from his look--but he\nstopped, and said in the same gentle way:\n\n\"I want your advice, sir, as to the best way of doing something which I\nwish to do, and, as I am under age, cannot do myself. It must be done\nthrough the trustees of", "my mother's will.\"\n\n\"And the assistance for which you wish?\" said father, putting his hand in\nhis pocket. I know what that action means when I am talking to him.\n\n\"The assistance I want,\" said Rupert, getting redder than ever, \"is from\nmy--the trustee also. To carry out what I want to do.\"\n\n\"And what may that be?\" asked my father. \"I would like, sir, to make\nover to my Aunt Janet--\" My father interrupted him by asking--he had\nevidently remembered", "Rupert and I were also standing now--one cannot sit down in the\n presence of such an act as that. \"You are, I am proud to say, allied\n with my family: and I only wish to God it was closer to myself.\"\n Rupert took him by the hand and bent his head before him as answered:\n\n \"The honour is mine, Sir Colin; and no greater can come to any man\n than that which you have just done me. The best way I can show how I\n value it will be to call on you if I am ever", "\nand where did I see Rupert first?\" I did not know, and frankly told her\nso. So she answered her question herself:\n\n\"I saw him first in his own room at night.\" I knew in my heart that in\nwhatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her\nto go on:\n\n\"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that\nI fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am\nnow!\"\n\nOn the instant it", "knew what it would be to me to be with you always! But indeed I may\nnot--not yet! I am not free! If you but knew how much that which has\nhappened to-night has cost me--or how much cost to others as well as to\nmyself may be yet to come--you would understand. Rupert\"--it was the\nfirst time she had ever addressed me by name, and naturally it thrilled\nme through and through--\"Rupert, my husband, only that I trust you with\nall the faith which is in perfect love", ". This book is to\nbe about Rupert. So our little man can only be what we shall call a\ncorollary.\" And so it is.\n\nI should mention here that the book is Teuta's idea. Before little\nRupert came she controlled herself wonderfully, doing only what was\nthought best for her under the circumstances. As I could see that it\nwould be a help for her to have some quiet occupation which would\ninterest her without tiring her, I looked up (with his permission, of\ncourse) all Rupert's old letters", "and Rupert said very unkindly, and I\nthink very unfairly, that I was \"A sulky little beast.\" I haven't forgot\nthat, and I don't mean to. However, it doesn't matter much what he said\nor thought. There he is--if he is at all--where no one can find him,\nwith no money or nothing, for what little he had he settled when he came\nof age, on the MacSkelpie. He wanted to give it to her when his mother\ndied, but father, who was a trust", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "not care to speak as I took his hand. He\n squeezed mine, too, and said very earnestly:\n\n \"I served your uncle's interests to the very best of my ability for\n nearly fifty years. He had full confidence in me, and I was proud of\n his trust. I can honestly say, Rupert--you won't mind me using that\n familiarity, will you?--that, though the interests which I guarded\n were so vast that without abusing my trust I could often have used my\n knowledge to my personal advantage,", "from the top of the Castle. Little Rupert was there--he\nis always awake early and as bright as a bee. I was holding him in my\narms, and when his mother leant over to kiss him good-bye, he held out\nhis arms to her in a way that said as plainly as if he had spoken, \"Take\nme with you.\"\n\nShe looked appealingly at Rupert, who nodded, and said: \"All right. Take\nhim, darling. He will have to learn some day, and the sooner the\nbetter.\" The", "meeting, though I am sure\nthat he will be glad when he knows that we both know all about it, and\nhave told each other everything.\"\n\nThat was very sweet of her, and very thoughtful in all ways, so I said\nthat which I thought would please her best--that is, the truth:\n\n\"Ah, lassie, that is what a wife should be--what a wife should do.\nRupert is blessed and happy to have his heart in your keeping.\"\n\nI knew from the added warmth of her kiss what I had said had pleased her.\n\n_", "your room and give him some\nbreakfast.\" Rupert stood very still for some seconds. His face had got\nred again after his paleness. Then he bowed to my father, and followed\nMrs. Martindale, who had moved to the door.\n\nNearly an hour afterwards my father sent a servant to tell him to come to\nthe study. My mother was there, too, and I had gone back with her. The\nman came back and said:\n\n\"Mrs. Martindale, sir, wishes to know, with her respectful service", "Rupert?\" When she looked up I saw\nthat her beautiful black eyes, with the stars in them, were overflowing\nwith tears not yet shed. But she smiled through them, and the tears did\nnot fall. When I saw her smile my heart was eased, and I said without\nthinking: \"Thank God, darling, Rupert is all right.\"\n\n\"I thank God, too, dear Aunt Janet!\" she said softly; and I took her in\nmy arms and laid her head on my breast.\n\n\"Go on, dear,\" I said; \"t", "on, my dear, and I am beginning\n to feel not so young as I was. Tell Rupert that the men are all fit,\n and longing to get out to him. They are certainly a fine lot of men.\n I don't think I ever saw a finer. I have had them drilled and\n trained as soldiers, and, in addition, have had them taught a lot of\n trades just as they selected themselves. So he shall have nigh him\n men who can turn their hands to anything--not, of course, that they", "should always have him, or the place in which he was, within their sight.\nThey all vowed that the last of their lives should go before harm came to\nhim. Of course, Teuta understood, and so did Rupert. And these young\nmen are the persons most privileged in the whole Castle. They are dear\nboys, every one of them, and we are all fond of them and respect them.\nThey simply idolize the baby.\n\nEver since that morning little Rupert has, unless it is at a time\nappointed for his sleeping, gone in his", "\n \"Rupert Sent Leger, my dear niece is a woman of great discretion and\n discernment. And, moreover, I am thinking she has in her some of the\n gift of Second Sight that has been a heritage of our blood. And I am\n one with my niece--in everything!\" The whole thing was quite regal\n in manner; it seemed to take me back to the days of the Pretender.\n\n It was not, however, a time for sentiment, but for action--we had met\n regarding", "The spontaneous action of the Gospodar Rupert was another source of joy\nto all--a fitting corollary to what had gone before. He rose to his\nfeet, and, taking his wife in his arms, kissed her before all. Then they\nsat down, with their chairs close, bashfully holding hands like a pair of\nlovers.\n\nThen Rupert arose--he is Rupert now; no lesser name is on the lips of his\npeople henceforth. With an intense earnestness which seemed to glow in\nhis face, he said simply:", "precious secret to earth\nin any well-meant piece of bungling. That would be to me disaster\nunbearable. She might frighten away altogether my beautiful visitor,\neven whose name or origin I did not know, and I might never see her\nagain:\n\n\"You must never do that, Aunt Janet. You and I are too good friends to\nhave sense of distrust or annoyance come between us--which would surely\nhappen if I had to keep thinking that you or anyone else might be\nwatching me.\"\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S", "made his own country great, would do much\nto restore the old friendship, and even to create a new one, which would\nin times of trouble bring British fleets to our waters, and British\nbayonets to support our own handjars. It is within my own knowledge,\nthough as yet unannounced to you, that Rupert Sent Leger has already\nobtained a patent, signed by the King of England himself, allowing him to\nbe denaturalized in England, so that he can at once apply for\nnaturalization here. I know also that he has" ], [ "your room and give him some\nbreakfast.\" Rupert stood very still for some seconds. His face had got\nred again after his paleness. Then he bowed to my father, and followed\nMrs. Martindale, who had moved to the door.\n\nNearly an hour afterwards my father sent a servant to tell him to come to\nthe study. My mother was there, too, and I had gone back with her. The\nman came back and said:\n\n\"Mrs. Martindale, sir, wishes to know, with her respectful service", "Rupert and I were also standing now--one cannot sit down in the\n presence of such an act as that. \"You are, I am proud to say, allied\n with my family: and I only wish to God it was closer to myself.\"\n Rupert took him by the hand and bent his head before him as answered:\n\n \"The honour is mine, Sir Colin; and no greater can come to any man\n than that which you have just done me. The best way I can show how I\n value it will be to call on you if I am ever", ". This book is to\nbe about Rupert. So our little man can only be what we shall call a\ncorollary.\" And so it is.\n\nI should mention here that the book is Teuta's idea. Before little\nRupert came she controlled herself wonderfully, doing only what was\nthought best for her under the circumstances. As I could see that it\nwould be a help for her to have some quiet occupation which would\ninterest her without tiring her, I looked up (with his permission, of\ncourse) all Rupert's old letters", "\nand where did I see Rupert first?\" I did not know, and frankly told her\nso. So she answered her question herself:\n\n\"I saw him first in his own room at night.\" I knew in my heart that in\nwhatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her\nto go on:\n\n\"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that\nI fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am\nnow!\"\n\nOn the instant it", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "Rupert?\" When she looked up I saw\nthat her beautiful black eyes, with the stars in them, were overflowing\nwith tears not yet shed. But she smiled through them, and the tears did\nnot fall. When I saw her smile my heart was eased, and I said without\nthinking: \"Thank God, darling, Rupert is all right.\"\n\n\"I thank God, too, dear Aunt Janet!\" she said softly; and I took her in\nmy arms and laid her head on my breast.\n\n\"Go on, dear,\" I said; \"t", "precious secret to earth\nin any well-meant piece of bungling. That would be to me disaster\nunbearable. She might frighten away altogether my beautiful visitor,\neven whose name or origin I did not know, and I might never see her\nagain:\n\n\"You must never do that, Aunt Janet. You and I are too good friends to\nhave sense of distrust or annoyance come between us--which would surely\nhappen if I had to keep thinking that you or anyone else might be\nwatching me.\"\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S", "Rupert waiting on the\n platform. He looked magnificent, towering over everybody there like\n a giant. He is in perfect health, and seemed glad to see me. He\n took me off at once on an automobile to a quay where an electric\n launch was waiting. This took us on board a beautiful big\n steam-yacht, which was waiting with full steam up and--how he got\n there I don't know--Rooke waiting at the gangway.\n\n I had another suite all to myself. Rupert and I had dinner", "should always have him, or the place in which he was, within their sight.\nThey all vowed that the last of their lives should go before harm came to\nhim. Of course, Teuta understood, and so did Rupert. And these young\nmen are the persons most privileged in the whole Castle. They are dear\nboys, every one of them, and we are all fond of them and respect them.\nThey simply idolize the baby.\n\nEver since that morning little Rupert has, unless it is at a time\nappointed for his sleeping, gone in his", "\n together--I think the finest dinner I ever sat down to. This was\n very nice of Rupert, for it was all for me. He himself only ate a\n piece of steak and drank a glass of water. I went to bed early, for,\n despite the luxury of the journey, I was very tired.\n\n I awoke in the grey of the morning, and came on deck. We were close\n to the coast. Rupert was on the bridge with the Captain, and Rooke\n was acting as pilot. When Ru", "silent, neither looking at us, and\nas father was sitting on the other side of the room with his chin in his\nhand, and as I wanted to show that I was indifferent to the two S's, I\ntook out this notebook, and went on with the Record, bringing it up to\nthis moment.\n\n\n\nTHE RECORD--_Continued_.\n\n\nWhen I had finished writing I looked over at Rupert.\n\nWhen he saw us, he jumped up and went over to father and shook his hand\nquite warmly. Father took him very cool", "and Rupert said very unkindly, and I\nthink very unfairly, that I was \"A sulky little beast.\" I haven't forgot\nthat, and I don't mean to. However, it doesn't matter much what he said\nor thought. There he is--if he is at all--where no one can find him,\nwith no money or nothing, for what little he had he settled when he came\nof age, on the MacSkelpie. He wanted to give it to her when his mother\ndied, but father, who was a trust", "at home in all ways. If\n you come to me altogether, you will be more welcome still--if\n possible. But I am sure that Rupert, who I know loves you very much,\n will try to make you so happy that you will not want to leave him.\n So I will have to come out often to see you both, even at the cost of\n leaving Croom for so long. Strange, is it not? that now, when,\n through Roger Melton's more than kind remembrance of me, I am able to\n ", "towards the window, and, standing behind the\ncurtain, listened. Far away I thought I heard a cry, and ran out on the\nTerrace; but there was no sound to be heard, and no sign of any living\nthing anywhere; so I took it for granted that it was the cry of some\nnight bird, and came back to my room, and wrote at my journal till I was\ncalm. I think my nerves must be getting out of order, when every sound\nof the night seems to have a special meaning for me.\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S JO", "in a worse\nstate of alarm than ever apropos of some new Second-Sight experience of\nmore than usual ferocity.\n\nBut, strange to say, I had no such visit. Later on in the morning, when,\nafter breakfast, we walked together through the garden, I asked her how\nshe had slept, and if she had dreamt. She answered me that she had slept\nwithout waking, and if she had had any dreams, they must have been\npleasant ones, for she did not remember them. \"And you know, Rupert,\"\nshe added, \"", "from the top of the Castle. Little Rupert was there--he\nis always awake early and as bright as a bee. I was holding him in my\narms, and when his mother leant over to kiss him good-bye, he held out\nhis arms to her in a way that said as plainly as if he had spoken, \"Take\nme with you.\"\n\nShe looked appealingly at Rupert, who nodded, and said: \"All right. Take\nhim, darling. He will have to learn some day, and the sooner the\nbetter.\" The", "ar Rupert,\"\nas the mountaineers call him (Mr. Rupert Sent Leger) on the armoured\nyacht he calls _The Lady_. The National Council showed great pleasure\nwhen the Voivode entered the hall in which the Council met. He seemed\nmuch gratified by the reception given to him. Mr. Rupert Sent Leger, by\nthe express desire of the Council, was asked to be present at the\nmeeting. He took a seat at the bottom of the hall, and seemed to prefer\nto remain there, though asked by the President", "and bade him welcome to Vissarion.\n\n\"I see,\" he said, \"you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if\nyou wish.\"\n\nMr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently,\nstumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky\nto appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the\nshoulder as he answered:\n\n\"That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal\nwomen of the Blue", "not as\nyet seen him on his \"aero.\" Mr. Ernest Melton came up, too. Teuta was,\nof course, before any of us. She seems to know by instinct when Rupert\nis coming.\n\nIt was certainly a wonderful sight to see the little aeroplane, with\noutspread wings like a bird in flight, come sailing high over the\nmountains. There was a head-wind, and they were beating against it;\notherwise we should not have had time to get to the tower before the\narrival.\n\n", "\n \"Rupert Sent Leger, my dear niece is a woman of great discretion and\n discernment. And, moreover, I am thinking she has in her some of the\n gift of Second Sight that has been a heritage of our blood. And I am\n one with my niece--in everything!\" The whole thing was quite regal\n in manner; it seemed to take me back to the days of the Pretender.\n\n It was not, however, a time for sentiment, but for action--we had met\n regarding" ], [ "stolen up\nduring the night-time without lights. But the Vladika and I were\nsatisfied that the Turkish vessel was watching--was in league with both\nparties of marauders--and was intended to take off any of the strangers,\nor their prey, who might reach Ilsin undetected. It was evidently with\nthis view that the kidnappers of Teuta had, in the first instance, made\nwith all speed for the south. It was only when disappointed there that\nthey headed up north, seeking in desperation for some chance of crossing\nthe border", ", because Teuta wishes it; and I like to do\nit myself--said:\n\n\"I must be off to board the Turkish vessel before it comes inshore.\nGood-bye, sir, in case we do not meet again.\" He said the last few words\nin so low a voice that I only could hear them. Then he kissed his wife,\nand told her he expected to be back in time for breakfast, and was gone.\nHe met Rooke--I am hardly accustomed to call him Captain as yet, though,\nindeed, he well deserves it--at", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "level it was manifestly impossible to\n see them, though we from our altitude could see over the stunted\n undergrowth. When within the glade, they took their hands from her.\n She, shuddering instinctively, withdrew to a remote corner of the\n dell.\n\n And then, oh, shame on their manhood!--Turks and heathens though they\n were--we could see that they had submitted her to the indignity of\n gagging her and binding her hands!\n\n Our Voivodin Teuta bound!", "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", "whispers:\n\n\"Father, it is I--Teuta!\"\n\n\"My child, my brave daughter!\"\n\n\"Quick, father; strap the belt round you. See that it is secure. We\nhave to be lifted into the air if necessary. Hold together. It will be\neasier for Rupert to lift us to the airship.\"\n\n\"Rupert?\"\n\n\"Yes; I shall explain later. Quick, quick! There is not a moment to\nlose. He is enormously strong, and can lift us together", "\n\n I am asked to write by the Vladika, and have permission of the\n Archbishop. I have the honour of transmitting to you the record of\n the pursuit of the Turkish spies who carried off the Voivodin Teuta,\n of the noble House of Vissarion. The pursuit was undertaken by the\n Gospodar Rupert, who asked that I would come with his party, since\n what he was so good as to call my \"great knowledge of the country and\n its people\" might serve much. It is", "true that I have had much\n knowledge of the Land of the Blue Mountains and its people, amongst\n which and whom my whole life has been passed. But in such a cause no\n reason was required. There was not a man in the Blue Mountains who\n would not have given his life for the Voivodin Teuta, and when they\n heard that she had not been dead, as they thought, but only in a\n trance, and that it was she whom the marauders had carried off, they\n were in a frenzy. So why should", "\n\nWhen he had gone, and I was alone, Mr. Trent, who had evidently been\nwaiting for the opportunity, came to me. When we had spoken of my\nmarriage and of Teuta, who seems to have made an immense impression on\nhim, he said suddenly:\n\n\"I suppose we are quite alone, and that we shall not be interrupted?\" I\nsummoned the man outside--there is always a sentry on guard outside my\ndoor or near me, wherever I may be--and gave orders that I was not to be\ndisturbed until I gave", "baby, looking eagerly from one to the other with the same\nquestioning in his eyes as there is sometimes in the eyes of a kitten or\na puppy--but, of course, with an eager soul behind it--saw that he was\ngoing, and almost leaped into his mother's arms. I think she had\nexpected him to come, for she took a little leather dress from Margareta,\nhis nurse, and, flushing with pride, began to wrap him in it. When\nTeuta, holding him in her arms, stepped on the aeroplane, and", "; but we must\nhelp him by being still, so he won't have to use the windlass, which\nmight creak.\" As she spoke she jerked slightly at the rope, which was\nour preconcerted signal that I was to lift. I was afraid the windlass\nmight creak, and her thoughtful hint decided me. I bent my back to the\ntask, and in a few seconds they were on the platform on which they, at\nTeuta's suggestion, lay flat, one at each side of my seat, so as to keep\nthe best", "loves. Why, then, should I hesitate to speak of her deeds\nin fitting terms, since it is my duty, my glory, to hold them in higher\nhonour than can any in this land? I shall not shame her--or even\nmyself--by being silent when such a duty urges me to speak, as Voivode,\nas trusted envoy of our nation, as father. Ages hence loyal men and\nwomen of our Land of the Blue Mountains will sing her deeds in song and\ntell them in story. Her name, Teuta,", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", "that when they should meet my wife might not, by any\ninadvertence, receive or cause any pain. But the moment Teuta saw her\nshe ran straight over to her and lifted her in her strong young arms,\nand, raising her up as one would lift a child, kissed her. Then, when\nshe had put her sitting in the chair from which she had arisen when we\nentered the room, she knelt down before her, and put her face down in her\nlap. Aunt Janet's face was a study; I myself could hardly say whether at\nthe", "was all I could say, and I meant\nit and all it implied. We shook hands warmly. Teuta was pleased; she\nkissed me, and then stood holding my arm with one hand, whilst she linked\nher other hand in the arm of her husband.\n\nHe summoned one of the sentries without, and told him to ask Captain\nRooke to come to him. The latter had been ready for a call, and came at\nonce. When through the open flap of the tent we saw him coming,\nRupert--as I must call him now", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "I was doing so Teuta had leaned over the inner edge of the\nplatform, and whispered as softly as the sigh of a gentle breeze:\n\n\"Hist! hist!\" The answer came in a similar sound from some twenty feet\nbelow us, and we knew that the prisoner was alone. Forthwith, having\nfixed the hook of the rope in the ring to which was attached her belt, I\nlowered my wife. Her father evidently knew her whisper, and was ready.\nThe hollow Tower--a smooth cylinder within--sent up the voices from it\nfaint as were the", "that the Turk is awake once more for our harming? The Bureau of Spies\nhas risen from the torpor which came on it when the purpose against our\nTeuta roused our mountains to such anger that the frontiers blazed with\npassion, and were swept with fire and sword. Moreover, there is a\ntraitor somewhere in the land, or else incautious carelessness has served\nthe same base purpose. Something of our needs--our doing, whose secret\nwe have tried to hide, has gone out. The myrmidons of the Turk are close\n", "--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat in\nfront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite the\nthrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,\nwith jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the unique\nquality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colour\naccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or the\nstars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These details\nshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off" ], [ "which rises behind the State House, and disappeared\ninto the shadow of the forest. Then my work claimed me, for I wished to\nrecord the proceedings so far whilst all was fresh in my mind. In\nsilence, as of the dead, the Council waited, no man challenging opinion\nof his neighbour even by a glance.\n\nAlmost a full hour had elapsed when the Voivode came again to the\nCouncil, moving with slow and stately gravity, as has always been his\nwont since age began to hamper the movement which in youth had been so\nnotable", "Gospodar hurried them all into the\n great hall of the Castle, which had in the meantime been got ready.\n I, too, went with him, but the Voivodin remained without.\n\n When all were seated, he rose and said:\n\n \"My Lord Archbishop, Vladika, and Lords of the Council all, I have\n dared to summon you in this way because time presses, and the life of\n one you all love--the Voivode Vissarion--is at stake. This audacious\n attempt of", "with the oldest member\n of the Council--Nicolos of Volok--rose, and, after throwing a\n searching look round the faces of all, and seeing grave nods of\n assent--for not a word was spoken--said to him who held the door:\n \"Summon the Gospodar Rupert forthwith!\" When Rupert entered, he\n spoke to him:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, the Council of the Blue Mountains has only one\n answer to give: Proceed! Rescue the Voivode Viss", "possession in the hearts of the mountaineers, should they\n ever come to know it. Should it be that at the time you inherit from\n me the Voivode Vissarion should not be alive, it may serve or aid you\n to know that in such case you would be absolved from any conditions\n of mine, though I trust you would in that, as in all other matters,\n hold obligation enforced by your own honour as to my wishes.\n Therefore the matter stands thus: If Vissarion lives, you will\n relinquish the est", "Voivodin, I looked all round them\n straight in their faces with a fixed frown, which, indeed, they\n seemed to understand, for they regained, and for the time maintained,\n their usual dignified calm. The Voivodin, may I say, bore the trial\n wonderfully. No human being could see that she was in any degree\n pained or even surprised. Mr. Melton stood looking round him so long\n that I had full time to regain my own attitude of calm. At last he\n seemed to come back", "ied, but almost overcome with sleep. When we came into the tent,\nover which at a little distance a cordon of our mountaineers stood on\nguard, he said to me:\n\n\"May I ask you, sir, to pardon me for a time, and allow the Voivodin to\nexplain matters to you? She will, I know, so far assist me, for there is\nso much work still to be done before we are free of the present peril.\nFor myself, I am almost overcome with sleep. For three nights I have had\nno sleep", "like mirth, but\nmuffled by distance and thick walls. From it we took fresh heart, for it\ntold us that our enemies were gathered in the lower chambers. If only\nthe Voivode should be on the upper stage, all would be well.\n\nSlowly, almost inch by inch, and with a suspense that was agonizing, we\ncrossed some twenty or thirty feet above the top of the wall. I could\nsee as we came near the jagged line of white patches where the heads of\nthe massacred Turks placed there on sp", "promise you that, when I\ncan see a just and fitting issue to my thought, I shall at once return.\"\n\nThe President of the Council looked around him, and, seeing everywhere\nthe bowing heads of acquiescence, spoke with a reverent gravity:\n\n\"We shall wait in patience whatsoever time you will, and may the God who\nrules all worthy hearts guide you to His Will!\"\n\nAnd so in silence the Voivode passed out of the hall.\n\nFrom my seat near a window I could watch him go, as with measured steps\nhe passed up the hill", ".\nIf, therefore, it had been possible to the Turkish marauders to gain\nentrance and exit, it might be a difficult as well as a dangerous task to\ntry to cut the Voivode out. His presence with them was a dangerous\nmenace to any force attacking them, for they would hold his life as a\nthreat.\n\nI consulted with the Vladika at once as to what was best to be done. And\nwe decided that, though we should put a cordon of guards around it at a\nsafe distance to prevent them receiving warning, we should at present", " had descended the hill it was evident that the Voivodin could not\n keep up the terrific pace at which we were going. She struggled\n heroically, but the long journey she had already taken, and the\n hardship and anxiety she had suffered, had told on her. The Gospodar\n stopped, and said that it would be better that he should press on--it\n was, perhaps, her father's life--and said he would carry her.\n\n \"No, no!\" she answered. \"Go on! I shall follow", "the Turk is the old aggression under a new form. It is a\n new and more daring step than ever to try to capture your chief and\n his daughter, the Voivodin, whom you love. Happily, the latter part\n of the scheme is frustrated. The Voivodin is safe and amongst us.\n But the Voivode is held prisoner--if, indeed, he be still alive. He\n must be somewhere near Ilsin--but where exactly we know not as yet.\n We have an expedition ready to start the moment we", ", it was evident that the young Voivodin could travel no longer\n at the dreadful pace at which they had been going. Those blood-marks\n told their own tale! They meant to make a last stand here in case\n they should be discovered.\n\n Then it was that he, who amongst us all had been most fierce and most\n bent on rapid pursuit, became the most the calm. Raising his hand\n for silence--though, God knows, we were and had been silent enough\n during that long rush through the forest--he said, in", " time that I might yet become a Voivode--even a great one. But age\n has dulled my personal ambitions as it has cramped my powers. I no\n longer dream of such honour for myself, though I do look on it as a\n possibility for you if you care for it. Through my Will you will\n have a great position and a great estate, and though you may have to\n yield up the latter in accordance with my wish, as already expressed\n in this letter, the very doing so will give you an even greater hold\n than this", "so received even by the Voivodin, who, with face flushing scarlet,\n and the stars in her eves flaming red, sprang to her feet. But in\n that second she had regained herself, and to all appearances her\n righteous anger passed away. Stooping, she took the hand of her\n guest and raised it--you know how strong she is--and, holding it in\n hers, led him into the doorway, saying:\n\n \"You are welcome, kinsman of my husband, to the house of my father,\n", "ivode Peter Vissarion made his journey to the great nation\n to whom we looked in our hour of need, it was necessary that he\n should go in secret. The Turk was at our gates, and full of the\n malice of baffled greed. Already he had tried to arrange a marriage\n with the Voivodin, so that in time to come he, as her husband, might\n have established a claim to the inheritance of the land. Well he\n knew, as do all men, that the Blue Mountaineers owe allegiance to", "receive your\n sanction--your commands. We shall obey your wishes with our lives.\n But as the matter is instant, I would venture to ask one question,\n and one only: 'Shall we rescue the Voivode at any cost that may\n present itself?' I ask this, for the matter has now become an\n international one, and, if our enemies are as earnest as we are, the\n issue is war!\"\n\n Having so spoken, and with a dignity and force which is\n inexpressible, he withdrew; and the Council,", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "ion. There\n is but one thing left to us if we wish to save the Voivodin. Do you,\n when the time comes, take these men and join the watcher at the top\n of the ravine road. When the shots are fired, do you out handjar,\n and rush the ravine and across the valley. Brothers, you may be in\n time to avenge the Voivodin, if you cannot save her. For me there\n must be a quicker way, and to it I go. As there is not", "the\ndevotion with which they kissed the hands and feet of both the Voivode\nand his daughter, were evidence enough for me, even had I not had my own\nshare of their grateful rejoicing.\n\nIn the midst of it all the low, stern voice of Rooke, who had burst a way\nto the front beside the Vladika, said:\n\n\"Now is the time to attack the Tower. Forward, brothers, but in silence.\nLet there not be a sound till you are near the gate; then play your\nlittle comedy of the escaping marauders.", "time ago expired). He made it a\n condition that the sale and agreement should remain a strict secret\n between us, as a widespread knowledge that his estate had changed\n hands would in all probability result in my death and his own at the\n hands of the mountaineers, who are beyond everything loyal, and were\n jealous to the last degree. An attack by Turkey was feared, and new\n armaments were required; and the patriotic Voivode was sacrificing\n his own great fortune for the public good. What a sacrifice this was\n he well knew," ], [ "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "true that I have had much\n knowledge of the Land of the Blue Mountains and its people, amongst\n which and whom my whole life has been passed. But in such a cause no\n reason was required. There was not a man in the Blue Mountains who\n would not have given his life for the Voivodin Teuta, and when they\n heard that she had not been dead, as they thought, but only in a\n trance, and that it was she whom the marauders had carried off, they\n were in a frenzy. So why should", "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", "a\nburst of enthusiasm, and the handjars flashed. For an instant he stood\nsilent, with lifted hand, as though indicating that he wished to speak.\nSo soon as this was recognized, silence fell on the assembly, and he\nspoke:\n\n\"I pray you, may the Voivodin Teuta of Vissarion, who has accompanied me\nhither, appear with me to hear your wishes?\" There was an immediate and\nenthusiastic acquiescence, and, after bowing his thanks, he retired to\nconduct her.\n\n", "loves. Why, then, should I hesitate to speak of her deeds\nin fitting terms, since it is my duty, my glory, to hold them in higher\nhonour than can any in this land? I shall not shame her--or even\nmyself--by being silent when such a duty urges me to speak, as Voivode,\nas trusted envoy of our nation, as father. Ages hence loyal men and\nwomen of our Land of the Blue Mountains will sing her deeds in song and\ntell them in story. Her name, Teuta,", "will bind afresh to the Queen the loyal devotion\nwhich she won from them as Voivodin. Henceforth and for all time the\nShroud shall be a dress of honour in our Land.\"\n\nTeuta looked all ablaze with love and pride and devotion. Stars in her\neyes shone like white fire as she assured them of the granting of their\nrequest. She finished her little speech:\n\n\"I feared that if I carried out my own wish, it might look arrogant, but\nRupert has expressed the same wish, and now I", "Western King, Rupert's natural dower of stature,\nand the other Queen's bearing of royal dignity and sweetness--by the\nelemental simplicity of Teuta's Shroud. Not one of all that mighty\nthrong but knew something of her wonderful story; and not one but felt\nglad and proud that such a noble woman had won an empire through her own\nbravery, even in the jaws of the grave.\n\nThe armoured yacht, with the remainder of the signatories to the Balkan\nFederation, drew close, and", "level it was manifestly impossible to\n see them, though we from our altitude could see over the stunted\n undergrowth. When within the glade, they took their hands from her.\n She, shuddering instinctively, withdrew to a remote corner of the\n dell.\n\n And then, oh, shame on their manhood!--Turks and heathens though they\n were--we could see that they had submitted her to the indignity of\n gagging her and binding her hands!\n\n Our Voivodin Teuta bound!", "that the Turk is awake once more for our harming? The Bureau of Spies\nhas risen from the torpor which came on it when the purpose against our\nTeuta roused our mountains to such anger that the frontiers blazed with\npassion, and were swept with fire and sword. Moreover, there is a\ntraitor somewhere in the land, or else incautious carelessness has served\nthe same base purpose. Something of our needs--our doing, whose secret\nwe have tried to hide, has gone out. The myrmidons of the Turk are close\n", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", ", there was stillness in the\nHall. He commenced with a few broken words of thanks; then he grew\nsuddenly and strangely calm as he went on:\n\n\"But before I can even attempt to make a fitting reply, I should know if\nit is contemplated to join with me in this great honour my dear wife the\nVoivodin Teuta of Vissarion, who has so splendidly proved her worthiness\nto hold any place in the government of the Land. I fain would . . . \"\n\nHe was interrupted by the Vo", "Teuta. This also was received with\nenthusiasm, and passed _nem. con._\n\nThereupon the President of Council, the Archbishop, and the Vladika,\nacting together as a deputation, went to pray the attention of the\nVoivode Peter Vassarion.\n\nWhen the Voivode entered, the whole Council and officials stood up, and\nfor a few seconds waited in respectful silence with heads bowed down.\nThen, as if by a common impulse--for no word was spoken nor any signal\ngiven--they all drew their", "--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat in\nfront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite the\nthrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,\nwith jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the unique\nquality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colour\naccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or the\nstars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These details\nshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off", "Gospodar, bearing himself as a Paladin of old, his mighty form\n pausing for no obstacle. Perpetually did he urge us on. He would\n not stop or pause for a moment, but often as he and I ran\n together--for, lady, in my youth I was the fleetest of all in the\n race, and even that now can head a battalion when duty calls--he\n would ask me certain questions as to the Lady Teuta and of the\n strange manner of her reputed death, as it was gradually unfold", "system. I may say _inter alia_ that he was mentioned as to\n be the first king when the new constitution should have been\n arranged.\n\n Then a great misfortune came on us; a terrible grief overshadowed the\n land. After a short illness, the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion died\n mysteriously of a mysterious ailment. The grief of the mountaineers\n was so great that it became necessary for the governing Council to\n warn them not to allow their sorrow to be seen. It was imper", "; but we must\nhelp him by being still, so he won't have to use the windlass, which\nmight creak.\" As she spoke she jerked slightly at the rope, which was\nour preconcerted signal that I was to lift. I was afraid the windlass\nmight creak, and her thoughtful hint decided me. I bent my back to the\ntask, and in a few seconds they were on the platform on which they, at\nTeuta's suggestion, lay flat, one at each side of my seat, so as to keep\nthe best", "\n\nWhen he had gone, and I was alone, Mr. Trent, who had evidently been\nwaiting for the opportunity, came to me. When we had spoken of my\nmarriage and of Teuta, who seems to have made an immense impression on\nhim, he said suddenly:\n\n\"I suppose we are quite alone, and that we shall not be interrupted?\" I\nsummoned the man outside--there is always a sentry on guard outside my\ndoor or near me, wherever I may be--and gave orders that I was not to be\ndisturbed until I gave", "that when they should meet my wife might not, by any\ninadvertence, receive or cause any pain. But the moment Teuta saw her\nshe ran straight over to her and lifted her in her strong young arms,\nand, raising her up as one would lift a child, kissed her. Then, when\nshe had put her sitting in the chair from which she had arisen when we\nentered the room, she knelt down before her, and put her face down in her\nlap. Aunt Janet's face was a study; I myself could hardly say whether at\nthe", "I was doing so Teuta had leaned over the inner edge of the\nplatform, and whispered as softly as the sigh of a gentle breeze:\n\n\"Hist! hist!\" The answer came in a similar sound from some twenty feet\nbelow us, and we knew that the prisoner was alone. Forthwith, having\nfixed the hook of the rope in the ring to which was attached her belt, I\nlowered my wife. Her father evidently knew her whisper, and was ready.\nThe hollow Tower--a smooth cylinder within--sent up the voices from it\nfaint as were the" ], [ "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", "She seemed preternaturally cold; her sleep was almost abnormal in\nintensity, and yet the sound of the cock-crowing came through it.\n\nThese things showed her to be subject to _some_ laws, though not in exact\naccord within those which govern human beings. Under the stress of such\ncircumstances as she must have gone through, her vitality seemed more\nthan human--the quality of vitality which could outlive ordinary burial.\nAgain, such purpose as she had shown in donning, under stress of some\ncompelling direction, her ice-", "So many had wished to have a last glimpse of her face that the\n Vladika had, with my own consent as Archbishop, arranged for a glass\n cover to be put over the stone coffin wherein her body lay.\n\n After a little time, however, there came a belief to all concerned in\n the guarding of the body--these, of course, being the priests of\n various degrees of dignity appointed to the task--that the Voivodin\n was not really dead, but only in a strangely-prolonged trance.\n Thereupon", "; but we must\nhelp him by being still, so he won't have to use the windlass, which\nmight creak.\" As she spoke she jerked slightly at the rope, which was\nour preconcerted signal that I was to lift. I was afraid the windlass\nmight creak, and her thoughtful hint decided me. I bent my back to the\ntask, and in a few seconds they were on the platform on which they, at\nTeuta's suggestion, lay flat, one at each side of my seat, so as to keep\nthe best", "that\n it was decided that she should take now and again exercise out of\n doors. This was not difficult, for when the Vampire story which we\n had spread began to be widely known, her being seen would be accepted\n as a proof of its truth. Still, as there was a certain danger in her\n being seen at all, we thought it necessary to exact from her a solemn\n oath that so long as her sad task lasted she should under no\n circumstances ever wear any dress but her shroud--this being the only\n way to insure", "\nhow, being wearied with her long waiting in the tomb, and waking to find\nherself alone when the floods were out, and even the Crypt submerged, she\nsought safety and warmth elsewhere; and how she came to the Castle in the\nnight, and found the strange man alone. I said: \"That was dangerous,\ndaughter, if not wrong. The man, brave and devoted as he is, must answer\nme--your father.\" At that she was greatly upset, and before going on\nwith her narrative, drew me close in her arms,", "and bade him welcome to Vissarion.\n\n\"I see,\" he said, \"you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if\nyou wish.\"\n\nMr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently,\nstumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky\nto appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the\nshoulder as he answered:\n\n\"That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal\nwomen of the Blue", ", because Teuta wishes it; and I like to do\nit myself--said:\n\n\"I must be off to board the Turkish vessel before it comes inshore.\nGood-bye, sir, in case we do not meet again.\" He said the last few words\nin so low a voice that I only could hear them. Then he kissed his wife,\nand told her he expected to be back in time for breakfast, and was gone.\nHe met Rooke--I am hardly accustomed to call him Captain as yet, though,\nindeed, he well deserves it--at", "will bind afresh to the Queen the loyal devotion\nwhich she won from them as Voivodin. Henceforth and for all time the\nShroud shall be a dress of honour in our Land.\"\n\nTeuta looked all ablaze with love and pride and devotion. Stars in her\neyes shone like white fire as she assured them of the granting of their\nrequest. She finished her little speech:\n\n\"I feared that if I carried out my own wish, it might look arrogant, but\nRupert has expressed the same wish, and now I", "shape, was none other than a _Coffin_, and\nthat the woman standing up in it was clothed in a shroud. Her back was\ntowards us, and she had evidently not heard our approach. As we were\ncreeping along slowly, the engines were almost noiseless, and there was\nhardly a ripple as our fore-foot cut the dark water. Suddenly there was\na wild cry from the bridge--Italians are certainly very excitable; hoarse\ncommands were given to the Quartermaster at the wheel; the engine-room\n", "as she rose up; \"I shall\nnot be long.\" Then she left the room.\n\nIn a very few minutes she was back. Her appearance might have frightened\nsome people, for she was clad only in a shroud. Her feet were bare, and\nshe walked across the room with the gait of an empress, and stood before\nme with her eyes modestly cast down. But when presently she looked up\nand caught my eyes, a smile rippled over her face. She threw herself\nonce more before me on her knees, and embraced me as she", " He raised his hand, and forthwith eight other\nblack-clad figures stepped forward, and bending over the stone coffin,\nraised from it the rigid form of my Lady, still clad in her Shroud, and\nlaid it gently on the floor of the sanctuary.\n\nI felt it a grace that at that instant the dim lights seemed to grow\nless, and finally to disappear--all save the tiny points that marked the\noutline of the great Cross high overhead. These only gave light enough\nto accentuate the gloom. The hand that held mine now released", "There was to be always a watch of\n priests at night in the church, to guard her from ghostly fears as\n well as from more physical dangers; and if she was actually in her\n tomb, it was to be visited at certain intervals. Even the draperies\n which covered her in the sarcophagus were rested on a bridge placed\n from side to side just above her, so as to hide the rising and\n falling of her bosom as she slept under the narcotic.\n\n After a while the prolonged strain began to tell so much on her", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "level it was manifestly impossible to\n see them, though we from our altitude could see over the stunted\n undergrowth. When within the glade, they took their hands from her.\n She, shuddering instinctively, withdrew to a remote corner of the\n dell.\n\n And then, oh, shame on their manhood!--Turks and heathens though they\n were--we could see that they had submitted her to the indignity of\n gagging her and binding her hands!\n\n Our Voivodin Teuta bound!", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", "the\nflames, she suddenly sprang to her feet, instinctively drawing the\nhorrible shroud round her as she rose to her full height in a voice full\nof lingering emotion, as of one who is acting under spiritual compulsion\nrather than personal will, she said in a whisper:\n\n\"I must go at once. I feel the morning drawing nigh. I must be in my\nplace when the light of day comes.\"\n\nShe was so earnest that I felt I must not oppose her wish; so I, too,\nsprang to my feet and ran", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", "by myself, but by others--and which I must not\nforgo. These forbid me to do as I wish. Oh, trust me, my beloved--my\nhusband!\"\n\nShe held out her hands appealingly. The moonlight, falling through the\nthinning forest, showed her white cerements. Then the recollection of\nall she must have suffered--the awful loneliness in that grim tomb in the\nCrypt, the despairing agony of one who is helpless against the\nunknown--swept over me in a wave of pity. What" ], [ "alternative to the very last moment. Such is our chance of rescuing\n her alive!\"\n\n For a few moments he stood as still as a stone, as though revolving\n something in his mind whilst he watched. I could see that some grim\n resolution was forming in his mind, for his eyes ranged to the top of\n the trees above cliff, and down again, very slowly this time, as\n though measuring and studying the detail of what was in front of him.\n Then he spoke:\n\n \"They are in hopes that the other pursuing", "\n\nWithin a few seconds, and without any discovery being made of my escape,\nwe were speeding towards the sea. The lights of Ilsin were in front of\nus. Before reaching the town, however, we descended in the midst of a\nlittle army of my own people, who were gathered ready to advance upon the\nSilent Tower, there to effect, if necessary, my rescue by force. Small\nchance would there have been of my life in case of such a struggle.\nHappily, however, the devotion and courage of my dear daughter and of her", "\nBut when they learned that the daughter of a chief had been captured,\nthey simply went mad. From something which the messenger first said, but\nwhich I could not catch or did not understand, the blow seemed to have\nfor them some sort of personal significance which wrought them to a\nfrenzy.\n\nWhen the bulk of the men had disappeared, I took with me a few of my own\nmen and several of the mountaineers whom I had asked to remain, and\ntogether we went to the hidden ravine which I knew. We found the place\nempty; but there", " Our people,\n like all mountaineers, have good eyes, and the Gospodar is himself an\n eagle in this as in other ways. Three men stood back from the rest.\n They stacked their rifles so that they could seize them easily. Then\n they drew their scimitars, and stood ready, as though on guard.\n\n These were evidently the appointed murderers. Well they knew their\n work; for though they stood in a desert place with none within long\n distance except the pursuing party, of whose approach they", "party may not come across\n them. To know that, they are waiting. If those others do not come\n up the valley, they will proceed on their way. They will return up\n the path the way they came. There we can wait them, charge into the\n middle of them when she is opposite, and cut down those around her.\n Then the others will open fire, and we shall be rid of them!\n\n Whilst he was speaking, two of the men of our party, who I knew to be\n good sharpshooters, and", "fate of\nall the harem of the Turk! Lifelong misery and despair--however long\nthat life might be--must be the lot of a Christian woman doomed to such a\nlot. And to her, just happily wedded, and after she had served her\ncountry in such a noble way as she had done, that dreadful life of\nshameful slavery would be a misery beyond belief.\n\n\"She must be rescued--and quickly! The marauders must be caught soon,\nand suddenly, so that they may have neither time nor opportunity", " To one and all of us it was like lashing\n us across the face. I heard the Gospodar's teeth grind again. But\n once more he schooled himself to calmness ere he said:\n\n \"It is, perhaps, as well, great though the indignity be. They are\n seeking their own doom, which is coming quickly . . . Moreover, they\n are thwarting their own base plans. Now that she is bound they will\n trust to their binding, so that they will delay their murderous\n ", "that their road north\nwas menaced, if not already blocked; of the choosing of the murderers,\nand their keeping ward over her whilst their companions went to survey\nthe situation; and of her gallant rescue by that noble fellow, her\nhusband--my son I shall call him henceforth, and thank God that I may\nhave that happiness and that honour!\n\nThen my daughter went on to tell me of the race back to Vissarion, when\nRupert went ahead of all--as a leader should do; of the summoning of the\nArchbishop and the National", ". Again the handjar flashed, this\n time downwards, and the lady was free. Without an instant's pause\n the Gospodar tore off the gag, and with his left arm round her and\n handjar in right hand, stood face toward his living foes. The\n Voivodin stooped suddenly, and then, raising the yataghan which had\n fallen from the hand of one of the dead marauders, stood armed beside\n him.\n\n The rifles were now cracking fast, as the mar", "ravine. I shall take that as the signal for my descent by\n the leafy road. If I can do naught else, I can crush the murderers\n with my falling weight, even if I have to kill her too. At least we\n shall die together--and free. Lay us together in the tomb at St.\n Sava's. Farewell, if it be the last!\"\n\n He threw down the scabbard in which he carried his handjar, adjusted\n the naked weapon in his belt behind his back, and was gone", "stolen up\nduring the night-time without lights. But the Vladika and I were\nsatisfied that the Turkish vessel was watching--was in league with both\nparties of marauders--and was intended to take off any of the strangers,\nor their prey, who might reach Ilsin undetected. It was evidently with\nthis view that the kidnappers of Teuta had, in the first instance, made\nwith all speed for the south. It was only when disappointed there that\nthey headed up north, seeking in desperation for some chance of crossing\nthe border", "to harm\nher, as they would be certain to do if they have warning of immediate\ndanger.\n\n\"On! on!\"\n\nAnd \"on\" it was all through that terrible night as well as we could\nthrough the forest.\n\nIt was a race between the mountaineers and myself as to who should be\nfirst. I understood now the feeling that animated them, and which\nsingled them out even from amongst their fiery comrades, when the danger\nof the Voivodin became known. These men were no mean contestants even in\nsuch a race,", "ion. There\n is but one thing left to us if we wish to save the Voivodin. Do you,\n when the time comes, take these men and join the watcher at the top\n of the ravine road. When the shots are fired, do you out handjar,\n and rush the ravine and across the valley. Brothers, you may be in\n time to avenge the Voivodin, if you cannot save her. For me there\n must be a quicker way, and to it I go. As there is not", "and secretly, keeping their\n guns in readiness. But they must not fire till need. Remember, my\n brothers,\" said, turning to those who stepped out a pace or two to\n the left, \"that the first shot gives the warning which will be the\n signal for the Voivodin's death. These men will not hesitate. You\n must judge yourselves of the time to shoot. The others of us will\n move to the right and try to find a path on that side. If the valley\n be indeed a pocket between", "had located them he, or one of his men, would come\n out of the opening of the wood wherein they had had evidence of them,\n and hold up his hand.\n\n That was to be the signal for the cutting of the victim's\n throat--such being the chosen method (villainous even for heathen\n murderers) of her death. There was not one of our men who did not\n grind his teeth when we witnessed the grim action, only too\n expressive, of the Turk as he drew his right hand, clenched as though", "or make plans in any way till they know whether the other party\n is coming towards them or not. From our height here we can see what\n course the others are taking long before those villains do. Then we\n can make our plans and be ready in time.\"\n\n We waited many minutes, but could see no further signs the other\n pursuing party. These had evidently adopted greater caution in their\n movements as they came closer to where they expected to find the\n enemy. The marauders began to grow anxious. Even at our distance we\n ", ") of\nSpazac, who had just arrived, came with us. He is a splendid man--a real\nfighter as well as a holy cleric, as good with his handjar as with his\nBible, and a runner to beat the band. The marauders were going at a\nfearful pace, considering that they were all afoot; so we had to go fast\nalso! Amongst these mountains there is no other means of progressing.\nOur own men were so aflame with ardour that I could not but notice that\nthey", "necessary baffle pursuit, and all of\n which take time. Our foresters said that two went ahead and two\n behind. In the centre went the mass, moving close together, as\n though surrounding their prisoner. We caught not even a single\n glimpse her--could not have, they encompassed her so closely. But\n our foresters saw other than the mass; the ground that had been\n passed was before them. They knew that the prisoner had gone\n unwillingly--nay, more: one of them said as he rose from his knees", "away, and when I took him by\nthe shoulders and turned him round--he is only a young boy, ma'am, for\nall he is so big--I saw that the tears were rolling down his cheeks.\nWith that I laid his head on my breast--I've had children of my own,\nma'am, as you know, though they're all gone. He came willing enough, and\nsobbed for a little bit. Then he straightened himself up, and I stood\nrespectfully beside him.\n\n\"'Tell Mr. Melton,' he said,", "wake with a rude hand over my mouth, and to feel myself grasped\ntight by so many hands that I could not move a limb, was a dreadful\nshock. All after that was like a dreadful dream. I was rolled in a\ngreat rug so tightly that I could hardly breathe, let alone cry out.\nLifted by many hands through the window, which I could hear was softly\nopened and shut for the purpose, and carried to a boat. Again lifted\ninto some sort of litter, on which I was borne a long distance, but with\n" ], [ "shall save my\nfather!\"\n\nHow could I have resisted such pleading--even had it not seemed wise?\nBut wise it was; and I, who knew what the aeroplane could do under my own\nguidance, saw at once the practicalities of the scheme. Of course there\nwas a dreadful risk in case anything should go wrong. But we are at\npresent living in a world of risks--and her father's life was at stake.\nSo I took my dear wife in my arms, and told her that my mind was hers for\nthis, as my soul and", "and tail went down, but with diminishing speed. Below the expanse\nof the plane the King and Queen were now seen seated together on the tiny\nsteering platform, which seemed to have been lowered; she sat behind her\nhusband, after the manner of matrons of the Blue Mountains. That coming\nof that aeroplane was the most striking episode of all this wonderful\nday.\n\nAfter floating for a few seconds, the engines began to work, whilst the\nplanes moved back to their normal with beautiful simultaneity. There was\na golden aero finding its safety in gliding", "movement. At the same time\nthe steering platform was rising, so that once more the occupants were\nnot far below, but above the plane. They were now only about a hundred\nfeet above the water, moving from the far end of the Blue Mouth towards\nthe entrance in the open space between the two lines of the fighting\nships of the various nationalities, all of which had by now their yards\nmanned--a manoeuvre which had begun at the firing of the first gun on the\nmountain-top. As the aero passed along, all the seamen", "\noff the fort. It was but a dip, however, such as a skilful diver takes\nfrom a height into shallow water, for the plane made an upward curve, and\nin a few seconds was skimming upwards towards the Flagstaff. Despite the\nwind, it arrived there in an incredibly short time. Immediately after\nhis flight another aero, a big one this time, glided to the platform. To\nthis immediately stepped a body of ten tall, fine-looking young men. The\ndriver pulled his levers, and the plane glided out on", "dreadful speed in the\nwake of the King. The King turned to Queen Teuta, and evidently said\nsomething, for she beckoned to the Captain of the Crown Prince's Guard,\nwho was steering the plane. He swerved away to the right, and instead of\nfollowing above the open track between the lines of warships, went high\nover the outer line. One of those on board began to drop something,\nwhich, fluttering down, landed on every occasion on the bridge of the\nship high over which they then were.\n\nThe Western King said", "thunder of salute from the guns,\nbright flashes and reports, which echoed down the hillsides in\nnever-ending sequence. At the first gun, by some trick of signalling,\nthe flag of the Federated \"Balka\" floated out from the top of the\nFlagstaff, which had been mysteriously raised, and flew above that of the\nBlue Mountains.\n\nAt the same moment the figures of Rupert and Teuta sank; they were taking\ntheir places on the aeroplane. An instant after, like a great golden\nbird, it seemed to", "that they could mark their maps as they required. Rupert, of course,\ndrove, and I acted as his assistant. Father, who has not yet become\naccustomed to aerial travel, took a seat in the centre (which Rupert had\nthoughtfully prepared for him), where there is very little motion. I\nmust say I was amazed to see the way that splendid old soldier Sir Colin\nbore himself. He had never been on an aeroplane before, but, all the\nsame, he was as calm as if he was on a rock.", "will have a parcel of food and spirit for your father in case\nhe is fatigued or faint; and, of course, the bullet-proof suit, which he\nmust put on at once. You will also have a short rope with a belt at\neither end--one for your father, the other for you. When I turn the\naeroplane and come back again, you will have ready the ring which lies\nmidway between the belts. This you will catch into the hook at the end\nof the lowered rope. When all is secure, and I have pulled", "not as\nyet seen him on his \"aero.\" Mr. Ernest Melton came up, too. Teuta was,\nof course, before any of us. She seems to know by instinct when Rupert\nis coming.\n\nIt was certainly a wonderful sight to see the little aeroplane, with\noutspread wings like a bird in flight, come sailing high over the\nmountains. There was a head-wind, and they were beating against it;\notherwise we should not have had time to get to the tower before the\narrival.\n\n", "and even of the entire programme of\nthe day. There is a certain kind of expectation which is not concerned\nin the mere execution of fore-ordered things.\n\nThe aero on which the King and Queen had come down from the mountain now\narrived on the platform in the charge of a tall young mountaineer, who\nstepped from the steering-platform at once. King Rupert, having handed\nhis Queen (who still carried her baby) into her seat, took his place, and\npulled a lever. The aero went forward, and seemed to fall head foremost", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "uch on the aeroplane, have both noticed it. But somehow we--that is,\nthe Voivode and myself--are left out of everything; but we have not said\nas yet a word on the subject to any of the others. The Voivode notices,\nbut he says nothing; so I am silent, and Teuta does whatever I ask. Sir\nColin does not notice anything except the work he is engaged on--the\nplanning the defences of the Blue Mouth. His old scientific training as\nan engineer, and his enormous experience of wars and sie", "baby, looking eagerly from one to the other with the same\nquestioning in his eyes as there is sometimes in the eyes of a kitten or\na puppy--but, of course, with an eager soul behind it--saw that he was\ngoing, and almost leaped into his mother's arms. I think she had\nexpected him to come, for she took a little leather dress from Margareta,\nhis nurse, and, flushing with pride, began to wrap him in it. When\nTeuta, holding him in her arms, stepped on the aeroplane, and", "whispers:\n\n\"Father, it is I--Teuta!\"\n\n\"My child, my brave daughter!\"\n\n\"Quick, father; strap the belt round you. See that it is secure. We\nhave to be lifted into the air if necessary. Hold together. It will be\neasier for Rupert to lift us to the airship.\"\n\n\"Rupert?\"\n\n\"Yes; I shall explain later. Quick, quick! There is not a moment to\nlose. He is enormously strong, and can lift us together", "7.\n\nWe had a journey to-day that was simply glorious. We had been waiting to\ntake it for more than a week. Rupert not only wanted the weather\nsuitable, but he had to wait till the new aeroplane came home. It is\nmore than twice as big as our biggest up to now. None of the others\ncould take all the party which Rupert wanted to go. When he heard that\nthe aero was coming from Whitby, where it was sent from Leeds, he\ndirected by cable that it should be unshipped", "shoot out into the air, and then, dipping its head,\ndropped downward at an obtuse angle. We could see the King and Queen\nfrom time waist upwards--the King in Blue Mountain dress of green; the\nQueen, wrapped in her white Shroud, holding her baby on her breast. When\nfar out from the mountain-top and over the Blue Mouth, the wings and tail\nof the great bird-like machine went up, and the aero dropped like a\nstone, till it was only some few hundred feet over the water. Then the\nwings", "'t let the cad see that he\nnoticed it. I have no doubt that, when he does arrive, that young man,\nif he is here still, will find that he will have to behave himself, if it\nbe only on Sir Colin's account alone.\n\n\n\nTHE SAME (LATER).\n\n\nI had hardly finished writing when the lookout on the tower announced\nthat the _Teuta_, as Rupert calls his aeroplane, was sighted crossing the\nmountains from Plazac. I hurried up to see him arrive, for I had", "obey every touch. He was wrapped up\nin his work. I don't believe that whilst he was working he ever thought\nof even me. He _is_ splendid!\n\nWe got back just as the sun was dropping down over the Calabrian\nMountains. It is quite wonderful how the horizon changes when you are\nsailing away up high on an aeroplane. Rupert is going to teach me how to\nmanage one all by myself, and when I am fit he will give me one, which he\nis to have specially built for me.", "\nport, but seemingly all up and over the hillsides away to the very\nsummit.\n\nWhen the cheering which followed the salute had somewhat toned down,\nthose on board talked together, and presentations were made. Then the\nbarges took the whole company to the armour-clad fort in the entrance-way\nto the Blue Mouth. Here, in front, had been arranged for the occasion,\nplatforms for the starting of aeroplanes. Behind them were the various\nthrones of state for the Western King and Queen, and the", "of things best for our plan. The guards\nwould at this time be all inside the Tower--probably resting, most of\nthem--so that it was possible that no one might notice the coming of the\nairship. I was afraid to think that all might turn out so well, for in\nsuch case our task would be a simple enough one, and would in all human\nprobability be crowned with success.\n\nAt ten o'clock we started. Teuta did not show the smallest sign of fear\nor even uneasiness, though this was the first time she had" ], [ "had sent word in the afternoon to the\nmountaineers to tell them to come and remove it. They had answered the\ncall, and it really seemed to me that the whole of the land must that\nnight have been in motion.\n\nThey came as individuals, grouping themselves as they came within the\ndefences of the Castle; some had gathered at fixed points on the way.\nThey went secretly and in silence, stealing through the forests like\nghosts, each party when it grouped taking the place of that which had\ngone on one of the routes radiating round Viss", ", having agreed amongst themselves to make a wide cast round the\nplace in the search for tracks. Whoever should find a trail was to\nfollow with at least one comrade, and when there was any definite news,\nit was to be signalled to the Castle.\n\nI myself returned at once, and set the signallers to work to spread\namongst our own people such news as we had.\n\nWhen presently such discoveries as had been made were signalled with\nflags to the Castle, it was found that the marauders had, in their\nflight, followed", "Volok to\nTatra; from Tatra to Domitan; from Domitan to Gravaja; and from Gravaja\nback to Angusa. The line is double. The old men keep guard on the line,\nand the young men advance. These will close in at the advancing line, so\nthat nothing can escape them. They will cover mountain-top and forest\ndepth, and will close in finally on the Castle here, which they can\nbehold from afar. My own yacht is here, and will sweep the coast from\nend to end. It", "the\ndevotion with which they kissed the hands and feet of both the Voivode\nand his daughter, were evidence enough for me, even had I not had my own\nshare of their grateful rejoicing.\n\nIn the midst of it all the low, stern voice of Rooke, who had burst a way\nto the front beside the Vladika, said:\n\n\"Now is the time to attack the Tower. Forward, brothers, but in silence.\nLet there not be a sound till you are near the gate; then play your\nlittle comedy of the escaping marauders.", "on in old time the\nbanner of the Vissarion family flew. At some far-off time, when the\nCastle had been liable to attack, this point had been strongly fortified.\nIndeed, in the days when the bow was a martial weapon it must have been\nquite impregnable.\n\nA covered gallery, with loopholes for arrows, had been cut in the solid\nrock, running right round the point, quite surrounding the flagstaff and\nthe great boss of rock on whose centre it was reared. A narrow\ndrawbridge of", "Gospodar hurried them all into the\n great hall of the Castle, which had in the meantime been got ready.\n I, too, went with him, but the Voivodin remained without.\n\n When all were seated, he rose and said:\n\n \"My Lord Archbishop, Vladika, and Lords of the Council all, I have\n dared to summon you in this way because time presses, and the life of\n one you all love--the Voivode Vissarion--is at stake. This audacious\n attempt of", "is the fastest boat afloat, and armed against a squadron.\nHere will all signals come. In an hour where we stand will be a signal\nbureau, where trained eyes will watch night and day till the lost one has\nbeen found and the outrage has been avenged. The robbers are even now\nwithin a ring of steel, and cannot escape.\"\n\nThe young priest, all on fire, sprang on the battlements and shouted to\nthe crowd, which was massing round the Castle in the gardens far below.\nThe forest was giving up its units till", "saw here and there men passing silently and swiftly\n between the trees as though in secret. By-and-by I located their\n meeting-place, which was in a hollow in the midst of the wood just\n outside the \"natural\" garden, as the map or plan of the castle calls\n it. I stalked that place for all I was worth, and suddenly walked\n straight into the midst of them. There were perhaps two or three\n hundred gathered, about the very finest lot of men I ever saw in my\n life. It was in its way quite", "till just before midnight, so we have\nplenty of time. We shall start from here at ten. If all be well, I\nshall place you in the Tower with your father in less than a quarter-hour\nfrom that. A few minutes will suffice to clothe him in bullet-proof and\nget on his belt. I shall not be away from the Tower more than a very few\nminutes, and, please God, long before eleven we shall be safe. Then the\nTower can be won in an attack by our mountaineers. Perhaps, when the\n", "Vladika and myself close to\n them, led the way up the ravine path which the marauders had\n descended, and thence through the forest to the top of the hill that\n dominated the valley. Here we could, from an opening amongst the\n trees, catch a glimpse far off of the battlements of Vissarion.\n Forthwith the Gospodar signalled; and on the moment a reply of their\n awaiting was given. Then the Gospodar signalled the glad news. It\n was received with manifest rejo", "and went about their work. I asked Mr. Melton to follow,\n and led the way to the Castle.\n\n When we got close to the great entrance within the walled courtyard,\n we found a large number of the servants gathered, and with them many\n of the mountaineers, who have kept an organized guard all round the\n Castle ever since the abducting of the Voivodin. As both Your Honour\n and the Voivode were away at Plazac, the guard had for the time been\n doubled. When the", "of\n names--and return full speed. Have ready plenty arms, six flying\n artillery. Two hundred men, provisions three days. Silence,\n silence. All depends on that. All to go on as usual at Castle,\n except to those in secret.\"\n\n When the receipt of his message had been signalled, we three--for, of\n course, the Voivodin was with us; she had refused to leave the\n Gospodar--set out hot-foot after our comrades. But by the time we\n", "joining close behind the end of the\nfirst. Then came another and another. An unbroken line circled and\ncircled round the hill in seeming endless array, till the whole slopes\nwere massed with moving men, dark in colour, and with countless\nglittering points everywhere. When the whole of the Divisions had thus\nsurrounded the King, there was a moment's hush--a silence so still that\nit almost seemed as if Nature stood still also. We who looked on were\nalmost afraid to breathe.\n\nThen suddenly, without", " They and the\npriests and fighting-men in the Castle worked well together, and with a\nzeal that was beyond praise. The heavy cases seemed almost of their own\naccord to leave the holds, so fast came the procession of them along the\ngangways from deck to dock-wall. It was a part of my design that the\narms should be placed in centres ready for local distribution. In such a\ncountry as this, without railways or even roads, the distribution of war\nmaterial in any quantity is a great labour, for it has to be done\nind", "took its\nway to the Castle of Vissarion, which is some distance off across a\npicturesque creek, bounded on either side by noble cliffs of vast height.\nThe King led the way, the Queen walking with him and holding his hand . .\n. The Castle of Vissarion is of great antiquity, and picturesque beyond\nbelief. I am sending later on, as a special article, a description of it\n. . .\n\nThe \"Coronation Feast,\" as it was called on the menu, was held in the\nGreat Hall,", "plan, and worked like demigods. They knew that so\nwidespread a movement had its best chance in rapidity and in unity of\naction.\n\nFrom the forest which lay in sight of the Castle came a wild cheering,\nwhich seemed to interpret the former stillness of the hills. It was good\nto feel that those who saw the signals--types of many--were ready. I saw\nthe look of expectation on the face of the messenger-priest, and rejoiced\nat the glow that came as I turned to him to speak. Of course,", " \"Come, brothers,\" he said, \"let us gain the hilltop, where we can\n signal to the Castle. It is right that the whole nation should share\n in the glad tidings that the Voivodin Teuta of Vissarion is free.\n But before we go, let us remove the arms and clothing of these\n carrion marauders. We may have use for them later on.\"\n\n The mountaineers set him down, gently enough. And he, taking the\n Voivodin by the hand, and calling the", " There is, I can\n see, but one path down to the valley from this side. That they have\n gone by, and that they will sure to guard--to watch, at any rate.\n Let us divide, as to surround them. The cliff towards which they\n make runs far to the left without a break. That to the right we\n cannot see from this spot; but from the nature of the ground it is\n not unlikely that it turns round in this direction, making the hither\n end of the valley like a vast pocket or amphit", "immense strength had connected--in peaceful times, and\nstill remained--the outer point of rock with an entrance formed in the\nouter wall, and guarded with flanking towers and a portcullis. Its use\nwas manifestly to guard against surprise. From this point only could be\nseen the line of the rocks all round the point. Thus, any secret attack\nby boats could be made impossible.\n\nHaving hurriedly dressed myself, and taking with me both hunting-knife\nand revolver, I went out on the terrace, taking the precaution,", "you both up\nby the windlass so as to clear the top, I shall throw out ballast which\nwe shall carry on purpose, and away we go! I am sorry it must be so\nuncomfortable for you both, but there is no other way. When we get well\nclear of the Tower, I shall take you both up on the platform. If\nnecessary, I shall descend to do it--and then we shall steer for Ilsin.\"\n\n\"When all is safe, our men will attack the Tower. We must let them do\nit, for they expect it" ], [ "I am his natural heir, it\nreduces his available estate to so much less.\n\nAnd now about Rupert. As I have said, he ran away when he was about\nfourteen, and we did not hear about him for years. When we--or, rather,\nmy father--did hear of him, it was no good that he heard. He had gone as\na cabin-boy on a sailing ship round the Horn. Then he joined an\nexploring party through the centre of Patagonia, and then another up in\nAlaska, and a third to", "\"that is so far as you and I are concerned. You with\na beggarly ten thousand, and I with twenty. But what is, or will be, the\neffect of those secret trusts?\"\n\n\"Oh, that,\" I said, \"will, I dare say, be all right. Uncle Roger\nevidently did not intend the older generation to benefit too much by his\ndeath. But he only gave Rupert St. Leger one thousand pounds, whilst he\ngave me ten. That looks as if he had more regard for the direct line.\nOf", "fees, unless--\"\n\n\"Unless what, father?\"\n\n\"Unless the fortune he has left is an enormous one. That is why I\nasked.\"\n\n\"And that,\" I laughed, \"is why he refused to answer.\"\n\n\"Why, Ernest, it must run into big figures.\"\n\n\"Right-ho, father. The death-duties will be annoying. What a beastly\nswindle the death-duties are! Why, I shall suffer even on your own\nlittle estate . . . \"\n\n\"That", "and Rupert said very unkindly, and I\nthink very unfairly, that I was \"A sulky little beast.\" I haven't forgot\nthat, and I don't mean to. However, it doesn't matter much what he said\nor thought. There he is--if he is at all--where no one can find him,\nwith no money or nothing, for what little he had he settled when he came\nof age, on the MacSkelpie. He wanted to give it to her when his mother\ndied, but father, who was a trust", "show that the fault was not his, _he_ wrung _my_ ear--and the same\near too! I suppose he thought that was justice! But it's only right to\nsay that he made up for it afterwards. When the General had gone he gave\nme a five-pound note.\n\nI don't think Uncle Roger was very pleased with the way Rupert behaved\nabout the legacy, for I don't think he ever saw him from that day to\nthis. Perhaps, of course, it was because Rupert ran away shortly\nafterwards;", "hand and\nasked:\n\n\"How much is the amount of the whole estate?\"\n\nThe attorney answered quickly, and I thought rather rudely. He was red\nin the face, and didn't bow this time; I suppose a man of his class\nhasn't more than a very limited stock of manners:\n\n\"That, sir, I am not at liberty to tell you. And I may say that I would\nnot if I could.\"\n\n\"Is it a million?\" said father again. He was angry this time, and even\nredder than", "elpie! I\nam sure that, though Uncle Roger made no comment to my father, who, as\nHead of our House, should, of course, have been informed, he was not\npleased. My mother, who has a good fortune in her own right, and has had\nthe sense to keep it in her own control--as I am to inherit it, and it is\nnot in the entail, I am therefore quite impartial--I can approve of her\nspirited conduct in the matter. We never did think much of Rupert,\nanyhow; but now, since", "not care to speak as I took his hand. He\n squeezed mine, too, and said very earnestly:\n\n \"I served your uncle's interests to the very best of my ability for\n nearly fifty years. He had full confidence in me, and I was proud of\n his trust. I can honestly say, Rupert--you won't mind me using that\n familiarity, will you?--that, though the interests which I guarded\n were so vast that without abusing my trust I could often have used my\n knowledge to my personal advantage,", "He had been very rude over\nthe matter of the death-duties of his own estate, though it is entailed\nand I _must_ inherit. So I determined to let him see that I know a good\ndeal more than he does--of law, at any rate. \"I fear that when we come\nto look into it closely that dog won't fight. In the first place, that\nmay be all arranged in the letter to St. Leger, which is a part of the\nWill. And if that letter should be inoperative by his refusal of", ".\nUncle Roger was a very grim sort of man, and only that I was brought up\nto try and be kind to him I shouldn't ever have dared to speak to him.\nBut when was a child father and mother--especially mother--forced me to\ngo and see him and be affectionate to him. He wasn't ever even civil to\nme, that I can remember--grumpy old bear! But, then, he never saw Rupert\nat all, so that I take it Master R--- is out of the running altogether\nfor testamentary honours. ", "is evidently a man of considerable\nnerve, for his face was quite impassive as he read the document, which\nconveyed to him (subject to the conditions laid down) a fortune which has\nno equal in amount in Europe, even, so far as I know, amongst the crowned\nheads. When he had read it over a second time he stood up and said:\n\n\"I wish I had known my uncle better. He must have had the heart of a\nking. I never heard of such generosity as he has shown me. Mr. Trent, I", "(father and I) had letters from Mr. Trent, telling us that the\nwhereabouts of \"Mr. Rupert Sent Leger\" had been discovered, and that a\nletter disclosing the fact of poor Uncle Roger's death had been sent to\nhim. He was at Titicaca when last heard of. So goodness only knows when\nhe may get the letter, which \"asks him to come home at once, but only\ngives to him such information about the Will as has already been given to\nevery member of the testator's family.\" And that", "my mother's will.\"\n\n\"And the assistance for which you wish?\" said father, putting his hand in\nhis pocket. I know what that action means when I am talking to him.\n\n\"The assistance I want,\" said Rupert, getting redder than ever, \"is from\nmy--the trustee also. To carry out what I want to do.\"\n\n\"And what may that be?\" asked my father. \"I would like, sir, to make\nover to my Aunt Janet--\" My father interrupted him by asking--he had\nevidently remembered", "was really angry when he said he had\nwalked up from the station.\n\n\"A nice spectacle for my tenants and my tradesmen! To see my--my--a\nkinsman of my house, howsoever remote, trudging like a tramp on the road\nto my estate! Why, my avenue is two miles and a perch! No wonder you\nare filthy and insolent!\" Rupert--really, I cannot call him cousin\nhere--was exceedingly impertinent to my father.\n\n\"I walked, sir, because", "situation the total amount as two hundred\nand fifty thousand pounds. Many of the beneficiaries were old friends,\ncomrades, dependents, and servants, some of them being left quite large\nsums of money and specific objects, such as curios and pictures.\n\n \"'5. To my kinsman and nephew Ernest Roger Halbard Melton presently\n living in the house of his father at Humcroft Salop the sum of Ten\n thousand pounds sterling.\n\n \"'6. To my old and valued friend Edward Bingham Trent of one hundred", "is nil. I dare say we\nshall be kept waiting for months before we get hold of the estate which\nis ours. It is too bad!\n\n_Letter from Edward Bingham Trent to Ernest Roger Halbard Melton_.\n\n 176, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS,\n _December_ 28, 1906.\n\n DEAR SIR,\n\n I am glad to be able to inform you that I have just heard by letter\n from Mr. Rupert St", "th in this record, lest\nit might seem to any unkind person who might hereafter read it that I\nwished to taunt Rupert St. Leger with his somewhat obscure position, in\nreiterating his real distance in kinship with my family--when my cousin,\nRupert St. Leger, wished to commit a certain idiotic act of financial\nfolly, he approached my father on the subject, arriving at our estate,\nHumcroft, at an inconvenient time, without permission, not having had\neven the decent courtesy to say he was coming.", "\n and seventy-six Lincoln's Inn Fields sum of Twenty thousand pounds\n sterling free from all Duties Taxes and Charges whatsoever to be paid\n out of my Five per centum Bonds of the city of Manchester England.\n\n \"'7. To my dear nephew Rupert Sent Leger only son of my dear sister\n Patience Melton by her marriage with Captain Rupert Sent Leger the\n sum of one thousand pounds sterling. I also bequeath to the said\n Rupert Sent Leger a further", "iciary is to be found before making the\nWill public, so we all have to wait. It is especially hard on me, who am\nthe natural heir. It is very thoughtless indeed of Rupert to keep away\nlike that. I wrote to old MacSkelpie about it, but he didn't seem to\nunderstand or to be at all anxious--he is not the heir! He said that\nprobably Rupert Sent Leger--he, too, keeps to the old spelling--did not\nknow of his uncle's death, or he would", "all at the reading of a will. It was a rotten grind,\nfor we had to be walking all over the neighbourhood for half an hour\nbefore it was time, not to be too early.\n\nWhen we went into the room we found there General Sir Colin MacKelpie and\na big man, very bronzed, whom I took to be Rupert St. Leger--not a very\ncreditable connection to look at, I thought! He and old MacKelpie took\ncare to be in time! Rather low, I thought it. Mr. St." ], [ "will. A \"People's Deputation\" of mountaineers, without any official\nnotice or introduction, arrived at the Castle late in the evening in the\nmanner established by Rupert's \"Proclamation of Freedom,\" wherein all\ncitizens were entitled to send a deputation to the King, at will and in\nprivate, on any subject of State importance. This deputation was\ncomposed of seventeen men, one selected from each political section, so\nthat the body as a whole represented the entire nation. They were of all\nsorts of social rank and all", "ar Rupert,\"\nas the mountaineers call him (Mr. Rupert Sent Leger) on the armoured\nyacht he calls _The Lady_. The National Council showed great pleasure\nwhen the Voivode entered the hall in which the Council met. He seemed\nmuch gratified by the reception given to him. Mr. Rupert Sent Leger, by\nthe express desire of the Council, was asked to be present at the\nmeeting. He took a seat at the bottom of the hall, and seemed to prefer\nto remain there, though asked by the President", "and spoke:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, I owe you all that a woman may owe, except to God.\n You have given me life and honour! I cannot thank you adequately for\n what you have done; my father will try to do so when he returns. But\n I am right sure that the men of the Blue Mountains, who so value\n honour, and freedom, and liberty, and bravery, will hold you in their\n hearts for ever!\"\n\n This was so sweetly spoken, with lips that trembled and eyes that\n", "ard and laid it naked\n on the table before Rupert, and said:\n\n \"You are going, sir, into a strange and danger country--I have been\n reading about it since we met--and you will be largely alone amongst\n fierce mountaineers who resent the very presence of a stranger, and\n to whom you are, and must be, one. If you should ever be in any\n trouble and want a man to stand back to back with you, I hope you\n will give me the honour!\" As he said this pointed to his sword.\n ", " He held up his hand\n arrestingly as he said:\n\n \"I recognize your purpose, and, believe me, I honour you for it from\n the very depths of my soul. But, my friend, it must not be. Our\n mountaineers are proud beyond belief. Though they would allow\n me--who am one of themselves, and whose fathers have been in some way\n leaders and spokesmen amongst them for many centuries--to do all that\n is in my power to do--and what, each and all, they would be glad to", "The spontaneous action of the Gospodar Rupert was another source of joy\nto all--a fitting corollary to what had gone before. He rose to his\nfeet, and, taking his wife in his arms, kissed her before all. Then they\nsat down, with their chairs close, bashfully holding hands like a pair of\nlovers.\n\nThen Rupert arose--he is Rupert now; no lesser name is on the lips of his\npeople henceforth. With an intense earnestness which seemed to glow in\nhis face, he said simply:", "have guessed the secret.\n I knew from the Vladika's look that he shared my own satisfaction,\n even as he had shared my anxiety.\n\n As the Gospodar Rupert was tossed high on the lifted hands of the\n mountaineers, their shouts rose to such a sudden volume that around\n us, as far as I could see, the frightened birds rose from the forest,\n and their noisy alarm swelled the tumult.\n\n The Gospodar, ever thoughtful for others, was the first to calm\n himself.\n\n", "! That is fine service. But how if any of them should die?\"\n\n\"Your Majesty, if one of them should die, there are ten thousand eager to\ntake his place.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine! It is good to have even one man eager to give his life for\nduty. But ten thousand! That is what makes a nation!\"\n\nWhen King Rupert reached the platform by the Flagstaff, the Royal\nStandard of the Blue Mountains was hauled up under it. Rupert stood up\nand raised his hand. In a second a can", "began to cheer--a\ncheering which they kept up till the King and Queen had come so close to\nthe Western King's vessel that the two Kings and Queens could greet each\nother. The wind was now beginning to blow westward from the\nmountain-top, and it took the sounds towards the armoured fort, so that\nat moments we could distinguish the cheers of the various nationalities,\namongst which, more keen than the others, came the soft \"Ban Zai!\" of the\nJapanese.\n\nKing Rupert, holding his steering levers", "to her, and in\n such a way. It would have been only natural if at such a moment of\n gratitude and triumph she had proclaimed the secret which we of the\n Council of the Nation and her father's Commissioners had so\n religiously kept. But none of us knew then either the Voivodin or\n the Gospodar Rupert as we do now. It was well that they were as they\n are, for the jealousy and suspicion of our mountaineers might, even\n at such a moment, and even whilst they throbb", "Rupert and I were also standing now--one cannot sit down in the\n presence of such an act as that. \"You are, I am proud to say, allied\n with my family: and I only wish to God it was closer to myself.\"\n Rupert took him by the hand and bent his head before him as answered:\n\n \"The honour is mine, Sir Colin; and no greater can come to any man\n than that which you have just done me. The best way I can show how I\n value it will be to call on you if I am ever", "\nlight. It was two hundred feet high, and painted white, and as at the\ndistance the steel stays were invisible, it towered up in lonely\ngrandeur. At its foot was a dark mass grouped behind a white space,\nwhich I could not make out till I used my field-glasses.\n\nThen I knew it was King Rupert and the Queen in the midst of a group of\nmountaineers. They were on the aero station behind the platform of the\naero, which seemed to shine--shine, not glitter--as though it were\nover", "amined and with logical comments, would be more convincing to a third\nparty than a whole hecatomb of them.\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.\n\n\n _May_ 4, 1907.\n\nThere is evidently something up in the country. The mountaineers are\nmore uneasy than they have been as yet. There is constant going to and\nfro amongst them, mostly at night and in the grey of the morning. I\nspend many hours in my room in the eastern", "Mountains. When you know something of what that dress\nmeans to us all at present you will understand. In the meantime, take it\nthat there is not a soul in the nation that does not love it and honour\nher for wearing it.\" To which the cad replied:\n\n\"Oh, indeed! I thought it was some preparation for a fancy-dress ball.\"\nRupert's comment on this ill-natured speech was (for him) quite grumpily\ngiven:\n\n\"I should not advise you to think such things whilst you are in this part", "inion was entirely to the effect that the Voivode Peter Vissarion\nshould, if he would accept the high office, be appointed. It was urged\nthat, as his daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, was now married to the\nEnglishman, Rupert Sent Leger--called generally by the mountaineers \"the\nGospodar Rupert\"--a successor to follow the Voivode when God should call\nhim would be at hand--a successor worthy in every way to succeed to so\nillustrious a post. It was urged by", "\n The little nation of the Blue Mountains has from the first appealed\n to me. It is poor and proud and brave. Its people are well worth\n winning, and I would advise you to throw in your lot with them. You\n may find them hard to win, for when peoples, like individuals, are\n poor and proud, these qualities are apt to react on each other to an\n endless degree. These men are untamable, and no one can ever succeed\n with them unless he is with them in all-in-all, and is a leader\n", "rowned under the new Constitution, and that remainder\nshould be settled on the Gospodar Rupert (the mountaineers would only\nreceive his lawful name as an alternative; one and all said that he would\nbe \"Rupert\" to them and to the nation--for ever).\n\nThe above matter having been satisfactorily settled, it was decided that\na formal meeting of the National Council should be held at the State\nHouse, Plazac, in one week from to-day, and that the Voivode Peter\nVissarion should be asked to be in the", "on, my dear, and I am beginning\n to feel not so young as I was. Tell Rupert that the men are all fit,\n and longing to get out to him. They are certainly a fine lot of men.\n I don't think I ever saw a finer. I have had them drilled and\n trained as soldiers, and, in addition, have had them taught a lot of\n trades just as they selected themselves. So he shall have nigh him\n men who can turn their hands to anything--not, of course, that they", "took her\nplace in the centre behind Rupert, the young men of the Crown Prince's\nGuard raised a cheer, amid which Rupert pulled the levers, and they\nglided off into the dawn.\n\nThe Crown Prince's Guard was established by the mountaineers themselves\nthe day of his birth. Ten of the biggest and most powerful and cleverest\nyoung men of the nation were chosen, and were sworn in with a very\nimpressive ceremony to guard the young Prince. They were to so arrange\nand order themselves and matters generally that two at least of them\n", "not as\nyet seen him on his \"aero.\" Mr. Ernest Melton came up, too. Teuta was,\nof course, before any of us. She seems to know by instinct when Rupert\nis coming.\n\nIt was certainly a wonderful sight to see the little aeroplane, with\noutspread wings like a bird in flight, come sailing high over the\nmountains. There was a head-wind, and they were beating against it;\notherwise we should not have had time to get to the tower before the\narrival.\n\n" ], [ "whenever Rupert should get married or start on the\nway to it by getting engaged--I would meet his future wife with something\nof the same affection that I have always had for himself. But I know now\nthat what was really in my mind was _jealousy_, and that I was really\nfighting against my own instincts, and pretending to myself that I was\nnot jealous. Had I ever had the faintest idea that she would be anything\nthe least like Teuta, that sort of feeling should never have had even a\nfoothold. No wonder my dear boy", "was all I could say, and I meant\nit and all it implied. We shook hands warmly. Teuta was pleased; she\nkissed me, and then stood holding my arm with one hand, whilst she linked\nher other hand in the arm of her husband.\n\nHe summoned one of the sentries without, and told him to ask Captain\nRooke to come to him. The latter had been ready for a call, and came at\nonce. When through the open flap of the tent we saw him coming,\nRupert--as I must call him now", ". This book is to\nbe about Rupert. So our little man can only be what we shall call a\ncorollary.\" And so it is.\n\nI should mention here that the book is Teuta's idea. Before little\nRupert came she controlled herself wonderfully, doing only what was\nthought best for her under the circumstances. As I could see that it\nwould be a help for her to have some quiet occupation which would\ninterest her without tiring her, I looked up (with his permission, of\ncourse) all Rupert's old letters", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "said:\n\n\"I was afraid I might frighten you, dear.\" I knew I could truthfully\nreassure her as to that, so I proceeded to do so:\n\n\"Do not worry yourself, my dear. I am not by nature timid. I come of a\nfighting stock which has sent out heroes, and I belong to a family\nwherein is the gift of Second Sight. Why should we fear? We know!\nMoreover, I saw you in that dress before. Teuta, I saw you and Rupert\nmarried", "whispers:\n\n\"Father, it is I--Teuta!\"\n\n\"My child, my brave daughter!\"\n\n\"Quick, father; strap the belt round you. See that it is secure. We\nhave to be lifted into the air if necessary. Hold together. It will be\neasier for Rupert to lift us to the airship.\"\n\n\"Rupert?\"\n\n\"Yes; I shall explain later. Quick, quick! There is not a moment to\nlose. He is enormously strong, and can lift us together", "ful young man Ernest Melton arrived, though it is possible that if\nRupert had been present he would not have dared to conduct himself so\nbadly. Of course, I heard all about it from the maids; Teuta never\nopened her lips to me on the subject. It was bad enough and stupid\nenough for him to try to kiss a decent young woman like Julia, who is\nreally as good as gold and as modest as one of our own Highland lassies;\nbut to think of him insulting Teuta! The little beast! One would", "finery--to have to appear in such a garment! A plain thing with\nnothing even pretty, let alone gorgeous, about it! I expressed my views\nto Rupert, for I feared that Teuta might be disappointed, though she\nmight not care to say so; but before he could say a word Teuta answered:\n\n\"Oh, thank you so much, dear! I should love that above everything, but I\ndid not like to suggest it, lest you should think me arrogant or\npresuming; for, indeed, Rupert, I am very proud of", "to go over their idea with Rupert and my father, and\nsomething may be decided then.\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.\n\n\n _August_ 21, 1907.\n\nOur meeting on the subject of National Defence, held this afternoon, went\noff well. We were five in all, for with permission of the Voivode and\nthe two fighting-men, naval and military, I brought Teuta with me. She\nsat beside me quite quietly, and never made a remark of", "do you know who I am, and how I first met Rupert?\"\n\n\"You are the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion--the daughter of the Voivode--Or,\nrather, you were; you are now Mrs. Rupert Sent Leger. For he is still an\nEnglishman, and a good subject of our noble King.\"\n\n\"Yes, Aunt Janet,\" she said, \"I am that, and proud to be it--prouder than\nI would be were I my namesake, who was Queen in the old days. But how", "inion was entirely to the effect that the Voivode Peter Vissarion\nshould, if he would accept the high office, be appointed. It was urged\nthat, as his daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, was now married to the\nEnglishman, Rupert Sent Leger--called generally by the mountaineers \"the\nGospodar Rupert\"--a successor to follow the Voivode when God should call\nhim would be at hand--a successor worthy in every way to succeed to so\nillustrious a post. It was urged by", "do but let the dears have their way?\n\nWell, this morning, when Rupert was with the Voivode at a meeting of the\nNational Council in the Great Hall, Teuta came to me, and (after closing\nthe door and bolting it, which surprised me a little) came and knelt down\nbeside me, and put her face in my lap. I stroked her beautiful black\nhair, and said:\n\n\"What is it, Teuta darling? Is there any trouble? And why did you bolt\nthe door? Has anything happened to", "attacks \"Balka\" or any part of it, so long as Rupert and Teuta live in\nthe hearts of that people, and bind them into an irresistible unity.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{1} Vladika, a high functionary in the Land of the Blue Mountains. He\nis a sort of official descendant of the old Prince-Bishops who used at\none time to govern the State. In process of time the system has changed,\nbut the function--shorn of its personal dominance--remains. The", "should always have him, or the place in which he was, within their sight.\nThey all vowed that the last of their lives should go before harm came to\nhim. Of course, Teuta understood, and so did Rupert. And these young\nmen are the persons most privileged in the whole Castle. They are dear\nboys, every one of them, and we are all fond of them and respect them.\nThey simply idolize the baby.\n\nEver since that morning little Rupert has, unless it is at a time\nappointed for his sleeping, gone in his", "will bind afresh to the Queen the loyal devotion\nwhich she won from them as Voivodin. Henceforth and for all time the\nShroud shall be a dress of honour in our Land.\"\n\nTeuta looked all ablaze with love and pride and devotion. Stars in her\neyes shone like white fire as she assured them of the granting of their\nrequest. She finished her little speech:\n\n\"I feared that if I carried out my own wish, it might look arrogant, but\nRupert has expressed the same wish, and now I", "not as\nyet seen him on his \"aero.\" Mr. Ernest Melton came up, too. Teuta was,\nof course, before any of us. She seems to know by instinct when Rupert\nis coming.\n\nIt was certainly a wonderful sight to see the little aeroplane, with\noutspread wings like a bird in flight, come sailing high over the\nmountains. There was a head-wind, and they were beating against it;\notherwise we should not have had time to get to the tower before the\narrival.\n\n", ", for, somehow, though I had never seen you nor even heard of\nyou, I seemed to know your face. Sit where you are, dear. It is only\nRupert--and we both love him.\"\n\nTeuta looked at me, flushing rosily; but she sat quiet, and drew the old\nlady's white head on her young breast.\n\n\n\nJANET MACKELPIE'S NOTES.\n\n\n _July_ 8, 1907.\n\nI used to think that", "Rupert?\" When she looked up I saw\nthat her beautiful black eyes, with the stars in them, were overflowing\nwith tears not yet shed. But she smiled through them, and the tears did\nnot fall. When I saw her smile my heart was eased, and I said without\nthinking: \"Thank God, darling, Rupert is all right.\"\n\n\"I thank God, too, dear Aunt Janet!\" she said softly; and I took her in\nmy arms and laid her head on my breast.\n\n\"Go on, dear,\" I said; \"t", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", "and bade him welcome to Vissarion.\n\n\"I see,\" he said, \"you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if\nyou wish.\"\n\nMr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently,\nstumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky\nto appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the\nshoulder as he answered:\n\n\"That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal\nwomen of the Blue" ], [ "the Turk is the old aggression under a new form. It is a\n new and more daring step than ever to try to capture your chief and\n his daughter, the Voivodin, whom you love. Happily, the latter part\n of the scheme is frustrated. The Voivodin is safe and amongst us.\n But the Voivode is held prisoner--if, indeed, he be still alive. He\n must be somewhere near Ilsin--but where exactly we know not as yet.\n We have an expedition ready to start the moment we", "by some means the Turkish \"Bureau of Spies\" must have got\n knowledge of the fact already. To steal a dead body for the purpose\n of later establishing a fictitious claim would have been an\n enterprise even more desperate than that already undertaken. We\n inferred from many signs, made known to us in an investigation, that\n a daring party of the Sultan's emissaries had made a secret incursion\n with the object of kidnapping the Voivodin. They must have been bold\n of heart and strong of resource to", ".\nIf, therefore, it had been possible to the Turkish marauders to gain\nentrance and exit, it might be a difficult as well as a dangerous task to\ntry to cut the Voivode out. His presence with them was a dangerous\nmenace to any force attacking them, for they would hold his life as a\nthreat.\n\nI consulted with the Vladika at once as to what was best to be done. And\nwe decided that, though we should put a cordon of guards around it at a\nsafe distance to prevent them receiving warning, we should at present", "vessel, large or small,\nhad heft the harbour during the night. The inference, therefore, was\nthat the Voivode's captors had made inland with him--if, indeed, they\nwere not already secreted in or near the town.\n\nWhilst we were receiving the various reports, a hurried message came that\nit was now believed that the whole party were in the Silent Tower. This\nwas a well-chosen place for such an enterprise. It was a massive tower\nof immense strength, built as a memorial--and also as a \"keep", "Gospodar hurried them all into the\n great hall of the Castle, which had in the meantime been got ready.\n I, too, went with him, but the Voivodin remained without.\n\n When all were seated, he rose and said:\n\n \"My Lord Archbishop, Vladika, and Lords of the Council all, I have\n dared to summon you in this way because time presses, and the life of\n one you all love--the Voivode Vissarion--is at stake. This audacious\n attempt of", "the flashes of the white shroud of their captive in the\n midst of them.\n\n From where we were grouped, amid the great tree-trunks on the very\n brow of the cliff, we could, when our eyes were accustomed to the\n shadow, see them quite well. In great haste, and half dragging, half\n carrying the Voivodin, they crossed the open space and took refuge in\n a little grassy alcove surrounded, save for its tortuous entrance, by\n undergrowth. From the valley", "the\ndevotion with which they kissed the hands and feet of both the Voivode\nand his daughter, were evidence enough for me, even had I not had my own\nshare of their grateful rejoicing.\n\nIn the midst of it all the low, stern voice of Rooke, who had burst a way\nto the front beside the Vladika, said:\n\n\"Now is the time to attack the Tower. Forward, brothers, but in silence.\nLet there not be a sound till you are near the gate; then play your\nlittle comedy of the escaping marauders.", "\n\n I am asked to write by the Vladika, and have permission of the\n Archbishop. I have the honour of transmitting to you the record of\n the pursuit of the Turkish spies who carried off the Voivodin Teuta,\n of the noble House of Vissarion. The pursuit was undertaken by the\n Gospodar Rupert, who asked that I would come with his party, since\n what he was so good as to call my \"great knowledge of the country and\n its people\" might serve much. It is", ", with deep water. It is large\nenough to take the yacht, though a much larger vessel could not safely\nenter. We ran in, and anchored close to the shore, which has a rocky\nfrontage--a natural shelf of rock, which is practically the same as a\nquay. Here we met the men who had come from Ilsin and the neighbourhood\nin answer to our signalling earlier in the day. They gave us the latest\ninformation regarding the kidnapping of the Voivode, and informed us that\nevery man in that section of the country was", "by the Council with the rescue of the Voivode Peter of Vissarion, he had,\nby aid of the Voivodin, effected the escape of the Voivode from the\nSilent Tower; also that, following this happy event, the mountaineers,\nwho had made a great cordon round the Tower so soon as it was known that\nthe Voivode had been imprisoned within it, had stormed it in the night.\nAs a determined resistance was offered by the marauders, who had used it\nas a place of refuge, none of these escaped. ", "with the oldest member\n of the Council--Nicolos of Volok--rose, and, after throwing a\n searching look round the faces of all, and seeing grave nods of\n assent--for not a word was spoken--said to him who held the door:\n \"Summon the Gospodar Rupert forthwith!\" When Rupert entered, he\n spoke to him:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, the Council of the Blue Mountains has only one\n answer to give: Proceed! Rescue the Voivode Viss", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", " had descended the hill it was evident that the Voivodin could not\n keep up the terrific pace at which we were going. She struggled\n heroically, but the long journey she had already taken, and the\n hardship and anxiety she had suffered, had told on her. The Gospodar\n stopped, and said that it would be better that he should press on--it\n was, perhaps, her father's life--and said he would carry her.\n\n \"No, no!\" she answered. \"Go on! I shall follow", "ion. There\n is but one thing left to us if we wish to save the Voivodin. Do you,\n when the time comes, take these men and join the watcher at the top\n of the ravine road. When the shots are fired, do you out handjar,\n and rush the ravine and across the valley. Brothers, you may be in\n time to avenge the Voivodin, if you cannot save her. For me there\n must be a quicker way, and to it I go. As there is not", "and went about their work. I asked Mr. Melton to follow,\n and led the way to the Castle.\n\n When we got close to the great entrance within the walled courtyard,\n we found a large number of the servants gathered, and with them many\n of the mountaineers, who have kept an organized guard all round the\n Castle ever since the abducting of the Voivodin. As both Your Honour\n and the Voivode were away at Plazac, the guard had for the time been\n doubled. When the", "Gospodar Rupert threw himself\n into the pursuit with fiery zeal and the Berserk passion which he\n inherited from Viking ancestors, whence of old came \"The Sword of\n Freedom\" himself.\n\n But at that very time was another possibility which the Gospodar was\n himself the first to realize. Failing the getting the Voivodin safe\n to Turkish soil, the ravishers might kill her! This would be\n entirely in accord with the base traditions and history of the\n Moslems. So, too", "receive your\n sanction--your commands. We shall obey your wishes with our lives.\n But as the matter is instant, I would venture to ask one question,\n and one only: 'Shall we rescue the Voivode at any cost that may\n present itself?' I ask this, for the matter has now become an\n international one, and, if our enemies are as earnest as we are, the\n issue is war!\"\n\n Having so spoken, and with a dignity and force which is\n inexpressible, he withdrew; and the Council,", "which rises behind the State House, and disappeared\ninto the shadow of the forest. Then my work claimed me, for I wished to\nrecord the proceedings so far whilst all was fresh in my mind. In\nsilence, as of the dead, the Council waited, no man challenging opinion\nof his neighbour even by a glance.\n\nAlmost a full hour had elapsed when the Voivode came again to the\nCouncil, moving with slow and stately gravity, as has always been his\nwont since age began to hamper the movement which in youth had been so\nnotable", "on what has been. Be secret of every detail--even\n as to the rescue of the Voivodin--except what I send.\"\n\n Without a word--thus showing immeasurable trust--the whole body--not\n a very large one, it is true--moved on, and the Gospodar began\n signalling. As I was myself expert in the code, I did not require\n any explanation, but followed question and answer on either side.\n The first words the Gospodar Rupert signalled were:\n\n \"Sil", "ly. He went like a\n stag breaking covert, and was soon out of sight. They halted a\n moment or two. Then some few ran on, and all the rest came back\n towards us. Quickly they improvised a litter with cords and\n branches, and insisted that the Voivodin should use it. In an\n incredibly short time we were under way again, and proceeding with\n great rapidity towards Vissarion. The men took it in turns to help\n with the litter; I had the honour of taking" ], [ " But\n if he may so choose he shall be free to declare in writing to the\n Executors within one week from the time of the Reading of the Will\n his wish to accept or to withdraw altogether from the responsibility\n of this Trust. In case of withdrawal he is to retain absolutely and\n for his own use the above-mentioned sum of nine hundred and\n ninety-nine thousand pounds sterling free of all Duties Taxes and\n imposts whatsoever making with the specific bequest of one thousand\n pounds a clear sum of one million pounds", "As I suppose I must go through this formality, I may as well say at\n once that I accept every possible condition which was in the mind of\n Uncle Roger; and to this end I am prepared to sign, seal, and\n deliver--or whatever is the ritual--whatever document you,\n sir\"--turning to me--\"may think necessary or advisable, and of which\n you both approve.\" He stood up and walked about the room for a few\n moments, Sir Colin and I sitting quite still, silent. He came back\n to his seat", "Melton now\n deceased by her marriage with Captain Rupert Sent Leger also now\n deceased. On his acceptance of the Conditions and the fulfilment of\n the first of them the Entire residue of my estate after payments of\n all specific Legacies and of all my debts and other obligations is to\n become his absolute property to be dealt with or disposed of as he\n may desire. The following are the conditions.\n\n \"1. He is to accept provisionally by letter addressed to my\n Executors a sum of nine hundred", "is evidently a man of considerable\nnerve, for his face was quite impassive as he read the document, which\nconveyed to him (subject to the conditions laid down) a fortune which has\nno equal in amount in Europe, even, so far as I know, amongst the crowned\nheads. When he had read it over a second time he stood up and said:\n\n\"I wish I had known my uncle better. He must have had the heart of a\nking. I never heard of such generosity as he has shown me. Mr. Trent, I", "and ninety-nine thousand pounds\n sterling free of all Duties Taxes or other imposts. This he will\n hold for a period of six months from the date of the Reading of my\n Last Will and have user of the accruements thereto calculated at the\n rate of ten per centum per annum which amount he shall under no\n circumstances be required to replace. At the end of said six months\n he must express in writing directed to the Executors of my Will his\n acceptance or refusal of the other conditions herein to follow.", "ment, and laid it before him with the outside\npage up. He fixed his glasses, and said:\n\n\"Gentlemen, the sealed envelope which you have seen me open is endorsed\n'My Last Will and Testament--ROGER MELTON, _June_, 1906.' This\ndocument\"--holding it up--\"is as follows:\n\n \"'I Roger Melton of Openshaw Grange in the County of Dorset; of\n number one hundred and twenty-three Berkeley Square London; and of\n the Castle of V", "my mother's will.\"\n\n\"And the assistance for which you wish?\" said father, putting his hand in\nhis pocket. I know what that action means when I am talking to him.\n\n\"The assistance I want,\" said Rupert, getting redder than ever, \"is from\nmy--the trustee also. To carry out what I want to do.\"\n\n\"And what may that be?\" asked my father. \"I would like, sir, to make\nover to my Aunt Janet--\" My father interrupted him by asking--he had\nevidently remembered", "situation the total amount as two hundred\nand fifty thousand pounds. Many of the beneficiaries were old friends,\ncomrades, dependents, and servants, some of them being left quite large\nsums of money and specific objects, such as curios and pictures.\n\n \"'5. To my kinsman and nephew Ernest Roger Halbard Melton presently\n living in the house of his father at Humcroft Salop the sum of Ten\n thousand pounds sterling.\n\n \"'6. To my old and valued friend Edward Bingham Trent of one hundred", "1. To my kinsman and nephew Ernest Halbard Melton Esquire, justice\n of the Peace, Humcroft the County of Salop, for his sole use and\n benefit the sum of twenty thousand pounds sterling free of all Duties\n Taxes and charges whatever to be paid out of my Five per centum Bonds\n of the City of Montreal, Canada.\n\n \"'2. To my respected friend and colleague as co-trustee to the Will\n of my late sister Patience late widow of the late Captain Rupert S", "June_ 11, 1906.\n\n My Dear Nephew,\n\n When (if ever) you receive this you will know that (with the\n exception of some definite bequests) I have left to you, under\n certain conditions, the entire bulk of my fortune--a fortune so great\n that by its aid as a help, a man of courage and ability may carve out\n for himself a name and place in history. The specific conditions\n contained in Clause 10 of my Will have to be observed, for such I", "\"that is so far as you and I are concerned. You with\na beggarly ten thousand, and I with twenty. But what is, or will be, the\neffect of those secret trusts?\"\n\n\"Oh, that,\" I said, \"will, I dare say, be all right. Uncle Roger\nevidently did not intend the older generation to benefit too much by his\ndeath. But he only gave Rupert St. Leger one thousand pounds, whilst he\ngave me ten. That looks as if he had more regard for the direct line.\nOf", "He had been very rude over\nthe matter of the death-duties of his own estate, though it is entailed\nand I _must_ inherit. So I determined to let him see that I know a good\ndeal more than he does--of law, at any rate. \"I fear that when we come\nto look into it closely that dog won't fight. In the first place, that\nmay be all arranged in the letter to St. Leger, which is a part of the\nWill. And if that letter should be inoperative by his refusal of", "B' which he is to receive and read in the\n presence of my Executors at the same meeting as but subsequent to the\n Reading of the clauses (except those to be ultimately numbers ten and\n eleven) of my Last Will. This letter contains instructions as to\n what both the Executors and the said Rupert Sent Leger are to do when\n such acceptance or refusal of the said Rupert Sent Leger has been\n made known, or if he omit or refuse to make any such acceptance or\n refusal, at the end of two years next after", "if he fulfil the Conditions imposed on him and shall thereby\n become possessed of the residue of my estate he is to continue to\n reside there in part for a period of one year. He is not to change\n his British Nationality except by a formal consent of the Privy\n Council of Great Britain.\n\n \"At the end of a year and a half from the Reading of my Will he is to\n report in person to my Executors of the expenditure of amounts paid\n or due by him in the carrying out of the Trust and if they are\n ", "I am his natural heir, it\nreduces his available estate to so much less.\n\nAnd now about Rupert. As I have said, he ran away when he was about\nfourteen, and we did not hear about him for years. When we--or, rather,\nmy father--did hear of him, it was no good that he heard. He had gone as\na cabin-boy on a sailing ship round the Horn. Then he joined an\nexploring party through the centre of Patagonia, and then another up in\nAlaska, and a third to", "fees, unless--\"\n\n\"Unless what, father?\"\n\n\"Unless the fortune he has left is an enormous one. That is why I\nasked.\"\n\n\"And that,\" I laughed, \"is why he refused to answer.\"\n\n\"Why, Ernest, it must run into big figures.\"\n\n\"Right-ho, father. The death-duties will be annoying. What a beastly\nswindle the death-duties are! Why, I shall suffer even on your own\nlittle estate . . . \"\n\n\"That", "the two letters marked 'B' and 'C' is enclosed\nwith instructions regarding their opening and the keeping secret of their\ncontents. I shall call your attention to the fact that both envelopes\nare sealed, and that the testator and both witnesses have signed their\nnames across the flap of each envelope. I shall read them. The letter\nmarked 'B,' directed to 'Rupert Sent Leger,' is thus endorsed:\n\n \"'This letter is to be given to Rupert Sent Leger by the Trustees and\n is to be opened", "possession in the hearts of the mountaineers, should they\n ever come to know it. Should it be that at the time you inherit from\n me the Voivode Vissarion should not be alive, it may serve or aid you\n to know that in such case you would be absolved from any conditions\n of mine, though I trust you would in that, as in all other matters,\n hold obligation enforced by your own honour as to my wishes.\n Therefore the matter stands thus: If Vissarion lives, you will\n relinquish the est", "_ \"_D. re\nRupert Sent Leger_. _To be given to him by Edward Bingham Trent if and\nas soon as he has declared_ (_formally or informally_) _his intention of\naccepting the conditions named in Letter B._, _forming Clause_ 10 _in my\nWill_. _R. M._, 1/1/'07.\n\n\"_Mem._--Copy (sealed) left in custody of E. B. Trent, to be opened if\nnecessary, as directed.\"\n\n _", "hand and\nasked:\n\n\"How much is the amount of the whole estate?\"\n\nThe attorney answered quickly, and I thought rather rudely. He was red\nin the face, and didn't bow this time; I suppose a man of his class\nhasn't more than a very limited stock of manners:\n\n\"That, sir, I am not at liberty to tell you. And I may say that I would\nnot if I could.\"\n\n\"Is it a million?\" said father again. He was angry this time, and even\nredder than" ], [ "\nand where did I see Rupert first?\" I did not know, and frankly told her\nso. So she answered her question herself:\n\n\"I saw him first in his own room at night.\" I knew in my heart that in\nwhatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her\nto go on:\n\n\"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that\nI fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am\nnow!\"\n\nOn the instant it", "the white shrouded figure,\nmore desolate-appearing than ever. Ghastly pale she looked, as before,\nbut her eyes had an eager look which was new. I took it that she was\nattracted by the fire, which was by now well ablaze, and was throwing up\njets of flame as the dry logs crackled. The leaping flames threw fitful\nlight across the room, and every gleam threw the white-clad figure into\nprominence, showing the gleam of the black eyes, and fixing the stars\nthat lay in", "the window, but as I looked back saw her,\ndespite her haste, still standing. I motioned towards the screen, and\nslipping behind the curtain, opened the window and went out on the\nterrace. As I was disappearing behind the curtain I saw her with the\ntail of my eye lifting the shroud, now dry, from the hearth.\n\nShe was out through the window in an incredibly short time, now clothed\nonce more in that dreadful wrapping. As she sped past me barefooted on\nthe wet, ch", "and bade him welcome to Vissarion.\n\n\"I see,\" he said, \"you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if\nyou wish.\"\n\nMr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently,\nstumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky\nto appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the\nshoulder as he answered:\n\n\"That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal\nwomen of the Blue", "-gown in a long, white,\nfinely-shaped hand, bore it behind the screen. There was a slight\nrustle, and then a hollow \"flop\" as the wet garment fell on the floor;\nmore rustling and rubbing, and a minute later she emerged wrapped from\nhead to foot in the long Jaeger garment, which trailed on the floor\nbehind her, though she was a tall woman. She was still shivering\npainfully, however. I took a flask of brandy and a glass from a\ncupboard, and", "in a worse\nstate of alarm than ever apropos of some new Second-Sight experience of\nmore than usual ferocity.\n\nBut, strange to say, I had no such visit. Later on in the morning, when,\nafter breakfast, we walked together through the garden, I asked her how\nshe had slept, and if she had dreamt. She answered me that she had slept\nwithout waking, and if she had had any dreams, they must have been\npleasant ones, for she did not remember them. \"And you know, Rupert,\"\nshe added, \"", "saw a\ndark brown figure steal round the edge of the curtain. A white hand was\nraised, and beckoned me to come in. I entered, bolting the window behind\nme. She had passed across the room, and was again kneeling before the\nfire with her hands outstretched. The shroud was laid in partially\nopened folds on one side of the hearth, and was steaming heavily. I\nbrought over some cushions and pillows, and made a little pile of them\nbeside her.\n\n\"Sit there,\"", "drapery.\" And again she\npointed to her shroud.\n\nHere was my chance to speak of what I knew, and I took it. \"I know, I\nknow. Moreover, I know that awful resting-place.\"\n\nI was interrupted, cut short in the midst of my sentence, not by any\nword, but by the frightened look in her eyes and the fear-mastered way in\nwhich she shrank away from me. I suppose in reality she could not be\npaler than she looked when the colour-absorbing moonlight fell on her;\n", ", handsome woman of\na little over thirty, with very dark hair and light-coloured eyes. I\nthink they were either grey or blue, but I can't remember which. She\nlooked very proud and haughty, but I am bound to say that she was very\nnice to me. I remember feeling very jealous of Rupert because his mother\nlooked so distinguished. Rupert was eight years older than me, and I was\nafraid he would beat me if I said anything he did not like. So I was\nsilent except when I forgot to be,", "as she rose up; \"I shall\nnot be long.\" Then she left the room.\n\nIn a very few minutes she was back. Her appearance might have frightened\nsome people, for she was clad only in a shroud. Her feet were bare, and\nshe walked across the room with the gait of an empress, and stood before\nme with her eyes modestly cast down. But when presently she looked up\nand caught my eyes, a smile rippled over her face. She threw herself\nonce more before me on her knees, and embraced me as she", "pert who was reading a bulky document of some kind, looked up and said:\n\n\"Of course, darling, you will wear your Shroud?\"\n\n\"Capital!\" she said, clapping her hands like a joyous child. \"The very\nthing, and our people will like it.\"\n\nI own that for a moment I was dismayed. It was a horrible test of a\nwoman's love and devotion. At a time when she was entertaining Kings and\nnotabilities in her own house--and be sure they would all be decked in\ntheir", "!\" This time she herself it was that seemed disconcerted.\n\n\"Saw us married! How on earth did you manage to be there?\"\n\n\"I was not there. My Seeing was long before! Tell me, dear, what day,\nor rather what night, was it that you first saw Rupert?\" She answered\nsadly:\n\n\"I do not know. Alas! I lost count of the days as I lay in the tomb in\nthat dreary Crypt.\"\n\n\"Was your--your clothing wet that night?\" I", "s wife.\n\n The Voivodin, thinking, doubtless, Your Honour, to add a fresh lustre\n to her welcome, had donned the costume which all her nation has now\n come to love and to accept as a dress of ceremonial honour. She wore\n her shroud. It moved the hearts of all of us who looked on to see\n it, and we appreciated its being worn for such a cause. But Mr.\n Melton did not seem to care. As he had been approaching she had\n begun to kneel, and", "course. When I made the pile of cushions before\nit as on the occasion of her last visit, she sank down on them, and held\nout her white, trembling hands to the warmth.\n\nShe was different to-night from what she had been on either of the two\nformer visits. From her present bearing I arrived at some gauge of her\nself-concern, her self-respect. Now that she was dry, and not\novermastered by wet and cold, a sweet and gracious dignity seemed to\nshine from her, enwrapping her, as it were,", "her attitude and movement, in the tones of her\nvoice, in the loftiness of her carriage and the steadfast look of her\nopen, starlit eyes. Altogether, there was something so rarely lofty in\nherself and all that clad her that, face to face with it and with her, my\nfeeble attempt at moral precaution seemed puny, ridiculous, and out of\nplace. Without a word in the doing, I took from an old chiffonier chest\nan armful of blankets, several of which I threw over her as she lay", "III: THE COMING OF THE LADY\n\n\nRupert Sent Leger's Journal.\n\n\n _April_ 3, 1907.\n\nI have waited till now--well into midday--before beginning to set down\nthe details of the strange episode of last night. I have spoken with\npersons whom I know to be of normal type. I have breakfasted, as usual\nheartily, and have every reason to consider myself in perfect health and\nsanity. So that the record following may be regarded as not", ",\nthough she moved and spoke, she was not quick, but dead. She was young\nand very beautiful, but pale, like the grey pallor of death. Through the\nstill white of her face, which made her look as cold as the wet marble\nshe stood on, her dark eyes seemed to gleam with a strange but enticing\nlustre. Even in the unsearching moonlight, which is after all rather\ndeceptive than illuminative, I could not but notice one rare quality of\nher eyes. Each had some quality of refraction which made", "came to me how I knew her face, even the first time I\nhad seen it. I wished to help her out of the embarrassing part of her\nconfidence, so I said:\n\n\"Dearie, I think I know. Tell me, child, will you put on the frock . . .\nthe dress . . . costume you wore that night, and let me see you in it?\nIt is not mere idle curiosity, my child, but something far, far above\nsuch idle folly.\"\n\n\"Wait for me a minute, Aunt Janet,\" she said,", "grim comedy which she had undertaken to perform\ntill my return; and how, on the second night after her marriage, as she\nwas in the garden of the Castle--going, as she shyly told me, to see if\nall was well with her husband--she was seized secretly, muffled up,\nbound, and carried off. Here she made a pause and a digression.\nEvidently some fear lest her husband and myself should quarrel assailed\nher, for she said:\n\n\"Do understand, father, that Rupert's marriage to me was in all", "said:\n\n\"I was afraid I might frighten you, dear.\" I knew I could truthfully\nreassure her as to that, so I proceeded to do so:\n\n\"Do not worry yourself, my dear. I am not by nature timid. I come of a\nfighting stock which has sent out heroes, and I belong to a family\nwherein is the gift of Second Sight. Why should we fear? We know!\nMoreover, I saw you in that dress before. Teuta, I saw you and Rupert\nmarried" ], [ "a great church close beside a stone coffin; and, knowing that\nsuch was an ominous subject to dream about, came as soon as she dared to\nsee if I was all right. Her mind was evidently set on death and burial,\nfor she went on:\n\n\"By the way, Rupert, I am told that the great church on time top of the\ncliff across the creek is St. Sava's, where the great people of the\ncountry used to be buried. I want you to take me there some day. We\nshall go over", "chill me, accustomed as I have\nbeen to strange and weird places. It seemed abandoned, though it had not\nthat air of having been neglected which is so often to be noticed in old\nchurches. There was none of the everlasting accumulation of dust which\nprevails in places of higher cultivation and larger and more strenuous\nwork.\n\nIn the church itself or its appending chambers I could find no clue or\nsuggestion which could guide me in any way in my search for the Lady of\nthe Shroud. Monuments there were in", "\nand where did I see Rupert first?\" I did not know, and frankly told her\nso. So she answered her question herself:\n\n\"I saw him first in his own room at night.\" I knew in my heart that in\nwhatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her\nto go on:\n\n\"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that\nI fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am\nnow!\"\n\nOn the instant it", "\nthe foot of the cliff on the hither side, where the zigzag comes close to\nthe water. It is now ten minutes past eleven.\n\nI shall add the odd five minutes to the time for my journey so as to make\nsafe. I go unarmed and without a light.\n\nI shall show no distrust of anyone or anything this night.\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.\n\n\n _July_ 2, 1907.\n\nWhen I was outside the church,", "known, when,\nthrough the door which I was pushing open, my eyes met only an expanse of\nabsolute blackness, all doubts which had ever been seemed to surround me\nin a legion. I have heard that, when a man is drowning, there comes a\ntime when his whole life passes in review during the space of time which\ncannot be computed as even a part of a second. So it was to me in the\nmoment of my body passing into the church. In that moment came to my\nmind all that had been, which bore on the knowledge of my Lady;", "had been removed.\n\nI knew not what happened till I found myself groping my way up the\nwinding stair. Here, in comparison with the solid darkness of the crypt,\nit seemed almost light. The dim expanse of the church sent a few\nstraggling rays down the vaulted steps, and as I could see, be it never\nso dimly, I felt I was not in absolute darkness. With the light came a\nsense of power and fresh courage, and I groped my way back into the crypt\nagain. There, by now and again", "woven of\nwhite natural fleece sprigged with tiny sprays of pine wrought in gold,\nlay the body of a woman--none other than my beautiful visitor. She was\nmarble white, and her long black eyelashes lay on her white cheeks as\nthough she slept.\n\nWithout a word or a sound, save the sounds made by my hurrying feet on\nthe stone flooring, I fled up the steep steps, and through the dim\nexpanse of the church, out into the bright sunlight. I found that I had\nmechanically raised the fallen lamp", "towards the window, and, standing behind the\ncurtain, listened. Far away I thought I heard a cry, and ran out on the\nTerrace; but there was no sound to be heard, and no sign of any living\nthing anywhere; so I took it for granted that it was the cry of some\nnight bird, and came back to my room, and wrote at my journal till I was\ncalm. I think my nerves must be getting out of order, when every sound\nof the night seems to have a special meaning for me.\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S JO", "drapery.\" And again she\npointed to her shroud.\n\nHere was my chance to speak of what I knew, and I took it. \"I know, I\nknow. Moreover, I know that awful resting-place.\"\n\nI was interrupted, cut short in the midst of my sentence, not by any\nword, but by the frightened look in her eyes and the fear-mastered way in\nwhich she shrank away from me. I suppose in reality she could not be\npaler than she looked when the colour-absorbing moonlight fell on her;\n", "saw a\ndark brown figure steal round the edge of the curtain. A white hand was\nraised, and beckoned me to come in. I entered, bolting the window behind\nme. She had passed across the room, and was again kneeling before the\nfire with her hands outstretched. The shroud was laid in partially\nopened folds on one side of the hearth, and was steaming heavily. I\nbrought over some cushions and pillows, and made a little pile of them\nbeside her.\n\n\"Sit there,\"", "so she went on to tell me of that unavailing journey south by her\ncaptors; of their bafflement by the cordon which Rupert had established\nat the first word of danger to \"the daughter of our leader,\" though he\nlittle knew who the \"leader\" was, or who was his \"daughter\"; of how the\nbrutal marauders tortured her to speed with their daggers; and how her\nwounds left blood-marks on the ground as she passed along; then of the\nhalt in the valley, when the marauders came to know", "had such a thing with me.\n\nOn this occasion I had no misgivings. On the former visit I had for a\nmoment been overwhelmed at the unexpected sight of the body of the woman\nI thought I loved--I knew it now--lying in her tomb. But now I knew all,\nand it was to see this woman, though in her tomb, that I came.\n\nWhen I had lit my lantern, which I did as soon as I had pushed open the\ngreat door, which was once again unlocked, I turned my steps to the steps\nof the crypt", "There was to be always a watch of\n priests at night in the church, to guard her from ghostly fears as\n well as from more physical dangers; and if she was actually in her\n tomb, it was to be visited at certain intervals. Even the draperies\n which covered her in the sarcophagus were rested on a bridge placed\n from side to side just above her, so as to hide the rising and\n falling of her bosom as she slept under the narcotic.\n\n After a while the prolonged strain began to tell so much on her", "filled with\ngreen or blue glass, each window having a colour to itself. The glass\nwas very old, being of the thirteenth or fourteenth century. Such\nappointments as there were--for it had a general air of desolation--were\nof great beauty and richness,--especially so to be in a place--even a\nchurch--where the door lay open, and no one was to be seen. It was\nstrangely silent even for an old church on a lonesome headland. There\nreigned a dismal solemnity which seemed to", "grim comedy which she had undertaken to perform\ntill my return; and how, on the second night after her marriage, as she\nwas in the garden of the Castle--going, as she shyly told me, to see if\nall was well with her husband--she was seized secretly, muffled up,\nbound, and carried off. Here she made a pause and a digression.\nEvidently some fear lest her husband and myself should quarrel assailed\nher, for she said:\n\n\"Do understand, father, that Rupert's marriage to me was in all", "to my room. In a dazed condition--half hypnotized by\nlove--I went to bed, and in dreams continued to think, all happily, of my\nLady of the Shroud.\n\n\n\nRUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.\n\n\n _May_ 27, 1907.\n\nA whole week has gone since I saw my Love! There it is; no doubt\nwhatever is left in my mind about it now! Since I saw her my passion has\ngrown and grown by le", "the white shrouded figure,\nmore desolate-appearing than ever. Ghastly pale she looked, as before,\nbut her eyes had an eager look which was new. I took it that she was\nattracted by the fire, which was by now well ablaze, and was throwing up\njets of flame as the dry logs crackled. The leaping flames threw fitful\nlight across the room, and every gleam threw the white-clad figure into\nprominence, showing the gleam of the black eyes, and fixing the stars\nthat lay in", "woman sit by his hearth and hold her holy\nof holies in his heart might well be a rapture to any man. Even an hour\nof such entrancing joy might be well won by a lifetime of pain, by the\nbalance of a long life sacrificed, by the extinction of life itself.\nQuick behind the record of such thoughts came the answer to the doubt\nthey challenged: if it should turn out that she was not living at all,\nbut one of the doomed and pitiful Un-Dead, then so much more on account\nof her very sweetness and beauty would be the", "dimness or\ndarkness in the church, seemed as bright as day. I could now, for the\nfirst time, see my wife's face properly. The glamour of the moonlight\nmay have served to enhance its ethereal beauty, but neither moonlight nor\nsunlight could do justice to that beauty in its living human splendour.\nAs I gloried in her starry eyes I could think of nothing else; but when\nfor a moment my eyes, roving round for the purpose of protection, caught\nsight of her whole figure, there was a pang", "found safe retreat. One of these was prepared for the\n Voivodin, and there she remained, except for such times as she was on\n show--and certain other times of which I shall tell you. Provision\n was made for the possibility of any accidental visit to the church.\n At such times, warned by an automatic signal from the opening door,\n she was to take her place in the tomb. The mechanism was so arranged\n that the means to replace the glass cover, and to take the opiate,\n were there ready to her hand. " ], [ "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", "loves. Why, then, should I hesitate to speak of her deeds\nin fitting terms, since it is my duty, my glory, to hold them in higher\nhonour than can any in this land? I shall not shame her--or even\nmyself--by being silent when such a duty urges me to speak, as Voivode,\nas trusted envoy of our nation, as father. Ages hence loyal men and\nwomen of our Land of the Blue Mountains will sing her deeds in song and\ntell them in story. Her name, Teuta,", "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", ", because Teuta wishes it; and I like to do\nit myself--said:\n\n\"I must be off to board the Turkish vessel before it comes inshore.\nGood-bye, sir, in case we do not meet again.\" He said the last few words\nin so low a voice that I only could hear them. Then he kissed his wife,\nand told her he expected to be back in time for breakfast, and was gone.\nHe met Rooke--I am hardly accustomed to call him Captain as yet, though,\nindeed, he well deserves it--at", ", with an open, engaging smile:\n\n\"I see, sir, you know all. Am I forgiven--for Teuta's sake as well as my\nown?\" By this time I was also on my feet. A man like that walks\nstraight into my heart. My daughter, too, had risen, and stood by my\nside. I put out my hand and grasped his, which seemed to leap to meet\nme--as only the hand of a swordsman can do.\n\n\"I am glad you are my son!\" I said. It", "attacks \"Balka\" or any part of it, so long as Rupert and Teuta live in\nthe hearts of that people, and bind them into an irresistible unity.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{1} Vladika, a high functionary in the Land of the Blue Mountains. He\nis a sort of official descendant of the old Prince-Bishops who used at\none time to govern the State. In process of time the system has changed,\nbut the function--shorn of its personal dominance--remains. The", "whispers:\n\n\"Father, it is I--Teuta!\"\n\n\"My child, my brave daughter!\"\n\n\"Quick, father; strap the belt round you. See that it is secure. We\nhave to be lifted into the air if necessary. Hold together. It will be\neasier for Rupert to lift us to the airship.\"\n\n\"Rupert?\"\n\n\"Yes; I shall explain later. Quick, quick! There is not a moment to\nlose. He is enormously strong, and can lift us together", "--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat in\nfront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite the\nthrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,\nwith jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the unique\nquality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colour\naccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or the\nstars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These details\nshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", "system. I may say _inter alia_ that he was mentioned as to\n be the first king when the new constitution should have been\n arranged.\n\n Then a great misfortune came on us; a terrible grief overshadowed the\n land. After a short illness, the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion died\n mysteriously of a mysterious ailment. The grief of the mountaineers\n was so great that it became necessary for the governing Council to\n warn them not to allow their sorrow to be seen. It was imper", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "inion was entirely to the effect that the Voivode Peter Vissarion\nshould, if he would accept the high office, be appointed. It was urged\nthat, as his daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, was now married to the\nEnglishman, Rupert Sent Leger--called generally by the mountaineers \"the\nGospodar Rupert\"--a successor to follow the Voivode when God should call\nhim would be at hand--a successor worthy in every way to succeed to so\nillustrious a post. It was urged by", "Teuta. This also was received with\nenthusiasm, and passed _nem. con._\n\nThereupon the President of Council, the Archbishop, and the Vladika,\nacting together as a deputation, went to pray the attention of the\nVoivode Peter Vassarion.\n\nWhen the Voivode entered, the whole Council and officials stood up, and\nfor a few seconds waited in respectful silence with heads bowed down.\nThen, as if by a common impulse--for no word was spoken nor any signal\ngiven--they all drew their", "was all I could say, and I meant\nit and all it implied. We shook hands warmly. Teuta was pleased; she\nkissed me, and then stood holding my arm with one hand, whilst she linked\nher other hand in the arm of her husband.\n\nHe summoned one of the sentries without, and told him to ask Captain\nRooke to come to him. The latter had been ready for a call, and came at\nonce. When through the open flap of the tent we saw him coming,\nRupert--as I must call him now", "baby, looking eagerly from one to the other with the same\nquestioning in his eyes as there is sometimes in the eyes of a kitten or\na puppy--but, of course, with an eager soul behind it--saw that he was\ngoing, and almost leaped into his mother's arms. I think she had\nexpected him to come, for she took a little leather dress from Margareta,\nhis nurse, and, flushing with pride, began to wrap him in it. When\nTeuta, holding him in her arms, stepped on the aeroplane, and", "our Land. This task and guardianship\n was gladly held as an honour by all concerned. For the Voivodin\n Teuta of Vissarion must be taken as representing in her own person\n the glory of the old Serb race, inasmuch as being the only child of\n the Voivode Vissarion, last male of his princely race--the race which\n ever, during the ten centuries of our history, unflinchingly gave\n life and all they held for the protection, safety, and well-being of\n ", "Gospodar, bearing himself as a Paladin of old, his mighty form\n pausing for no obstacle. Perpetually did he urge us on. He would\n not stop or pause for a moment, but often as he and I ran\n together--for, lady, in my youth I was the fleetest of all in the\n race, and even that now can head a battalion when duty calls--he\n would ask me certain questions as to the Lady Teuta and of the\n strange manner of her reputed death, as it was gradually unfold", "for\n himself anything in it about him. A man of that class is apt to\n advertise the fact of anyone of distinction taking any notice of him.\n I would bring out the MS. to you myself, and stay for a while with\n you for some sport, only your lot--subjects I suppose you call\n them!--are such bounders that a gentleman's life is hardly safe\n amongst them. I never met anyone who had so poor an appreciation of\n a joke as they have. By the way, how is Teuta? She is one of", "I was doing so Teuta had leaned over the inner edge of the\nplatform, and whispered as softly as the sigh of a gentle breeze:\n\n\"Hist! hist!\" The answer came in a similar sound from some twenty feet\nbelow us, and we knew that the prisoner was alone. Forthwith, having\nfixed the hook of the rope in the ring to which was attached her belt, I\nlowered my wife. Her father evidently knew her whisper, and was ready.\nThe hollow Tower--a smooth cylinder within--sent up the voices from it\nfaint as were the" ], [ "which rises behind the State House, and disappeared\ninto the shadow of the forest. Then my work claimed me, for I wished to\nrecord the proceedings so far whilst all was fresh in my mind. In\nsilence, as of the dead, the Council waited, no man challenging opinion\nof his neighbour even by a glance.\n\nAlmost a full hour had elapsed when the Voivode came again to the\nCouncil, moving with slow and stately gravity, as has always been his\nwont since age began to hamper the movement which in youth had been so\nnotable", "promise you that, when I\ncan see a just and fitting issue to my thought, I shall at once return.\"\n\nThe President of the Council looked around him, and, seeing everywhere\nthe bowing heads of acquiescence, spoke with a reverent gravity:\n\n\"We shall wait in patience whatsoever time you will, and may the God who\nrules all worthy hearts guide you to His Will!\"\n\nAnd so in silence the Voivode passed out of the hall.\n\nFrom my seat near a window I could watch him go, as with measured steps\nhe passed up the hill", "ly. He went like a\n stag breaking covert, and was soon out of sight. They halted a\n moment or two. Then some few ran on, and all the rest came back\n towards us. Quickly they improvised a litter with cords and\n branches, and insisted that the Voivodin should use it. In an\n incredibly short time we were under way again, and proceeding with\n great rapidity towards Vissarion. The men took it in turns to help\n with the litter; I had the honour of taking", "Voivodin, I looked all round them\n straight in their faces with a fixed frown, which, indeed, they\n seemed to understand, for they regained, and for the time maintained,\n their usual dignified calm. The Voivodin, may I say, bore the trial\n wonderfully. No human being could see that she was in any degree\n pained or even surprised. Mr. Melton stood looking round him so long\n that I had full time to regain my own attitude of calm. At last he\n seemed to come back", " had descended the hill it was evident that the Voivodin could not\n keep up the terrific pace at which we were going. She struggled\n heroically, but the long journey she had already taken, and the\n hardship and anxiety she had suffered, had told on her. The Gospodar\n stopped, and said that it would be better that he should press on--it\n was, perhaps, her father's life--and said he would carry her.\n\n \"No, no!\" she answered. \"Go on! I shall follow", ", under the sad circumstances, but would straightway\n return, so as to be in the land where she lay. Then suspicions would\n crop up, and the truth must shortly be known afield, with the\n inevitable result that the Land would become the very centre of a war\n of many nations.\n\n In the second place, if the Turks were to know that the race of\n Vissarion was becoming extinct, this would encourage them to further\n aggression, which would become immediate should they find out that\n the Voivode was himself away.", "Gospodar hurried them all into the\n great hall of the Castle, which had in the meantime been got ready.\n I, too, went with him, but the Voivodin remained without.\n\n When all were seated, he rose and said:\n\n \"My Lord Archbishop, Vladika, and Lords of the Council all, I have\n dared to summon you in this way because time presses, and the life of\n one you all love--the Voivode Vissarion--is at stake. This audacious\n attempt of", ", it was evident that the young Voivodin could travel no longer\n at the dreadful pace at which they had been going. Those blood-marks\n told their own tale! They meant to make a last stand here in case\n they should be discovered.\n\n Then it was that he, who amongst us all had been most fierce and most\n bent on rapid pursuit, became the most the calm. Raising his hand\n for silence--though, God knows, we were and had been silent enough\n during that long rush through the forest--he said, in", "receive your\n sanction--your commands. We shall obey your wishes with our lives.\n But as the matter is instant, I would venture to ask one question,\n and one only: 'Shall we rescue the Voivode at any cost that may\n present itself?' I ask this, for the matter has now become an\n international one, and, if our enemies are as earnest as we are, the\n issue is war!\"\n\n Having so spoken, and with a dignity and force which is\n inexpressible, he withdrew; and the Council,", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "then of all have now told\n you. Nevertheless, he devoted himself whole-heartedly to our\n needs--as doubtless you know.\n\n But the time had now come close when the Voivode Vissarion was about\n to return from his mission; and we of the council of his daughter's\n guardianship were beginning to arrange matters so that at his return\n the good news of her being still alive could be made public. With\n her father present to vouch for her, no question as to truth could\n arise.\n\n But", "like mirth, but\nmuffled by distance and thick walls. From it we took fresh heart, for it\ntold us that our enemies were gathered in the lower chambers. If only\nthe Voivode should be on the upper stage, all would be well.\n\nSlowly, almost inch by inch, and with a suspense that was agonizing, we\ncrossed some twenty or thirty feet above the top of the wall. I could\nsee as we came near the jagged line of white patches where the heads of\nthe massacred Turks placed there on sp", "so received even by the Voivodin, who, with face flushing scarlet,\n and the stars in her eves flaming red, sprang to her feet. But in\n that second she had regained herself, and to all appearances her\n righteous anger passed away. Stooping, she took the hand of her\n guest and raised it--you know how strong she is--and, holding it in\n hers, led him into the doorway, saying:\n\n \"You are welcome, kinsman of my husband, to the house of my father,\n", "with the oldest member\n of the Council--Nicolos of Volok--rose, and, after throwing a\n searching look round the faces of all, and seeing grave nods of\n assent--for not a word was spoken--said to him who held the door:\n \"Summon the Gospodar Rupert forthwith!\" When Rupert entered, he\n spoke to him:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, the Council of the Blue Mountains has only one\n answer to give: Proceed! Rescue the Voivode Viss", ".\nIf, therefore, it had been possible to the Turkish marauders to gain\nentrance and exit, it might be a difficult as well as a dangerous task to\ntry to cut the Voivode out. His presence with them was a dangerous\nmenace to any force attacking them, for they would hold his life as a\nthreat.\n\nI consulted with the Vladika at once as to what was best to be done. And\nwe decided that, though we should put a cordon of guards around it at a\nsafe distance to prevent them receiving warning, we should at present", "steward came and stood in the doorway, the\n servants stood off somewhat, and the mountaineers drew back to the\n farther sides and angles of the courtyard. The Voivodin had, of\n course, been informed of the guest's (your cousin) coming, and came\n to meet him in the old custom of the Blue Mountains. As Your Honour\n only came to the Blue Mountains recently, and as no occasion has been\n since then of illustrating the custom since the Voivode was away, and\n the Voivodin then believed to", "icing. We could not hear any sound so\n far away, but we could see the movement of lifted faces and waving\n hands, and knew that it was well. But an instant after came a calm\n so dread that we knew before the semaphore had begun to work that\n there was bad news in store for us. When the news did come, a bitter\n wailing arose amongst us; for the news that was signalled ran:\n\n \"The Voivode has been captured by the Turks on his return, and is\n held by them at", "ion. There\n is but one thing left to us if we wish to save the Voivodin. Do you,\n when the time comes, take these men and join the watcher at the top\n of the ravine road. When the shots are fired, do you out handjar,\n and rush the ravine and across the valley. Brothers, you may be in\n time to avenge the Voivodin, if you cannot save her. For me there\n must be a quicker way, and to it I go. As there is not", "from which I gathered that he wished absolute silence\nto be observed on my part. Whilst I was revolving this in my mind he\nwent on:\n\n\"Touching that request, sir. When I have left you and the Voivode--and\nthe Voivodin, of course--at Vissarion, together with such others as you\nmay choose to bring there with you, may I bring the yacht back here for a\nspell? I rather think that there is a good deal of cleaning up to be\ndone, and the crew of _The Lady_ with", "prolonged them immeasurably--there came a large\n space of rock some three times his own length. He did not pause, but\n swung himself to one side, so that he should fall close to the\n Voivodin and her guards. These men did not seem to notice, for their\n attention was fixed on the wood whence they expected their messenger\n to signal. But they raised their yataghans in readiness. The shots\n had alarmed them; and they meant to do the murder now--messenger or\n no" ], [ "the cutting of all was\nancient. So large and heavy were some of them that it was a wonder to me\nhow they could ever have been brought to this place, to which the only\nentrance was seemingly the narrow, tortuous stairway by which I had come.\nAt last I saw near one end of the crypt a great chain hanging. Turning\nthe light upward, I found that it depended from a ring set over a wide\nopening, evidently made artificially. It must have been through this\nopening that the great sarcophagi had been lowered.", "resting-place of the historic dead would be held safe against\ncasual intrusion. Even I, on a quest which was very near my heart,\npaused with an almost overwhelming sense of decorum before passing\nthrough that open door. The crypt was a huge place, strangely lofty for\na vault. From its formation, however, I soon came to the conclusion that\nit was originally a natural cavern altered to its present purpose by the\nhand of man. I could hear somewhere near the sound of running water, but\nI could not locate it. Now and again at", "of the sanctuary.\n\nIn the floor close to my feet was a yawning chasm, into which, from so\nhigh over my head that in the uncertain light I could not distinguish its\norigin, hung a chain. At the sight a strange wave of memory swept over\nme. I could not but remember the chain which hung over the glass-covered\ntomb in the Crypt, and I had an instinctive feeling that the grim chasm\nin the floor of the sanctuary was but the other side of the opening in\nthe roof of the crypt from which the chain over the s", "have to\nendure such a fearful place. As anodyne to my own pain I thought what it\nwould be, and how I should feel, when I should have won for her a way out\nof that horror, at any rate. This thought reassured me somewhat, and\nrestored my courage. It was in something of the same fashion which has\nhitherto carried me out of tight places as well as into them that at last\nI pushed open the low, narrow door at the foot of the rock-hewn staircase\nand entered the crypt.\n\nWithout delay", "\nhow, being wearied with her long waiting in the tomb, and waking to find\nherself alone when the floods were out, and even the Crypt submerged, she\nsought safety and warmth elsewhere; and how she came to the Castle in the\nnight, and found the strange man alone. I said: \"That was dangerous,\ndaughter, if not wrong. The man, brave and devoted as he is, must answer\nme--your father.\" At that she was greatly upset, and before going on\nwith her narrative, drew me close in her arms,", "had been removed.\n\nI knew not what happened till I found myself groping my way up the\nwinding stair. Here, in comparison with the solid darkness of the crypt,\nit seemed almost light. The dim expanse of the church sent a few\nstraggling rays down the vaulted steps, and as I could see, be it never\nso dimly, I felt I was not in absolute darkness. With the light came a\nsense of power and fresh courage, and I groped my way back into the crypt\nagain. There, by now and again", "asked.\n\n\"Yes. I had to leave the Crypt, for a great flood was out, and the\nchurch was flooded. I had to seek help--warmth--for I feared I might\ndie. Oh, I was not, as I have told you, afraid of death. But I had\nundertaken a terrible task to which I had pledged myself. It was for my\nfather's sake, and the sake of the Land, and I felt that it was a part of\nmy duty to live. And so I lived on,", "\n\nDirectly underneath the hanging chain, which did not come closer to the\nground than some eight or ten feet, was a huge tomb in the shape of a\nrectangular coffer or sarcophagus. It was open, save for a huge sheet of\nthick glass which rested above it on two thick balks of dark oak, cut to\nexceeding smoothness, which lay across it, one at either end. On the far\nside from where I stood each of these was joined to another oak plank,\nalso cut smooth, which sloped gently to the rocky", "ation of the\n secret. She was willing, she impressed upon us, to make any personal\n sacrifice which might be deemed necessary for the carrying out her\n father's task for the good of the nation.\n\n Of course, she had at first terrible frights lying alone in the\n horror of the Crypt. But after a time the terrors of the situation,\n if they did not cease, were mitigated. There are secret caverns off\n the Crypt, wherein in troublous times the priests and others of high\n place have", "state of things had now lasted from before the time when the\n Gospodar Rupert came to Vissarion up to the day of the arrival of the\n armoured yacht.\n\n That night the priest on duty, on going his round of the Crypt just\n before dawn, found the tomb empty. He called the others, and they\n made full search. The boat was gone from the cavern, but on making\n search they found it on the farther side of the creek, close to the\n garden stairs. Beyond this they could discover nothing", "coming in from the sunlight, here overwhelming to one so\nrecently accustomed to northern skies, to note the slender gleam of the\nlantern which I carried, and which I had lit inside the door. At my\nfirst entry to the church my mind had been so much taken up with the\nstrangeness of the place, together with the intensity of wish for some\nsort of clue, that I had really no opportunity of examining detail. But\nnow detail became necessary, as I had to find the entrance to the crypt.\nMy puny light could not dissipate", "secrecy and to prevail against accident.\n\n There is a secret way from the Crypt to a sea cavern, whose entrance\n is at high-tide under the water-line at the base of the cliff on\n which the church is built. A boat, shaped like a coffin, was\n provided for her; and in this she was accustomed to pass across the\n creek whenever she wished to make excursion. It was an excellent\n device, and most efficacious in disseminating the Vampire belief.\n\n This", " For in such case the difficulty of the situation would be\n multiplied indefinitely. In the secret chambers of St. Sava's we had\n many secret meetings, and were finally converging on agreement when\n the end of the trance came.\n\n The girl awoke!\n\n She was, of course, terribly frightened when she found herself in a\n tomb in the Crypt. It was truly fortunate that the great candles\n around her tomb had been kept lighted, for their light mitigated the\n horror of the place", "had such a thing with me.\n\nOn this occasion I had no misgivings. On the former visit I had for a\nmoment been overwhelmed at the unexpected sight of the body of the woman\nI thought I loved--I knew it now--lying in her tomb. But now I knew all,\nand it was to see this woman, though in her tomb, that I came.\n\nWhen I had lit my lantern, which I did as soon as I had pushed open the\ngreat door, which was once again unlocked, I turned my steps to the steps\nof the crypt", "profusion--statues, tablets, and all\nthe customary memorials of the dead. The families and dates represented\nwere simply bewildering. Often the name of Vissarion was given, and the\ninscription which it held I read through carefully, looking to find some\nenlightenment of any kind. But all in vain: there was nothing to see in\nthe church itself. So I determined to visit the crypt. I had no lantern\nor candle with me, so had to go back to the Castle to secure one.\n\nIt was strange,", "dangers, I felt awed and almost overwhelmed by a sense of loneliness and\ndesolation as I descended the ancient winding steps. These were many in\nnumber, roughly hewn of old in the solid rock on which the church was\nbuilt.\n\nI met a fresh surprise in finding that the door of the crypt was open.\nAfter all, this was different from the church-door being open; for in\nmany places it is a custom to allow all comers at all times to find rest\nand comfort in the sacred place. But I did expect that at least the\nfinal", "crypt full of courage and hope, though I\nknew what dreadful sight should sear my eyes once again. But we little\nknow what may be in store for us, no matter what we expect. I went out\nwith a heart like water from that dreadful desolation.\"\n\n\"Oh, how you love me, dear!\" Cheered by her words, and even more by her\ntone, I went on with renewed courage. There was no halting, no faltering\nin my intention now:\n\n\"You and I, my dear, were ordained for each", "my secret. Only once did I feel that actual\ndanger in that respect was close to me. That was when she came early one\nmorning and rapped at my door. When I called out, \"Who is that? What is\nit?\" she said in an agitated way:\n\n\"Thank God, laddie, you are all right! Go to sleep again.\"\n\nLater on, when we met at breakfast, she explained that she had had a\nnightmare in the grey of the morning. She thought she had seen me in the\ncrypt of", "irregular intervals there was a\nprolonged booming, which could only come from a wave breaking in a\nconfined place. The recollection then came to me of the proximity of the\nchurch to the top of the beetling cliff, and of the half-sunk cavern\nentrances which pierced it.\n\nWith the gleam of my lamp to guide me, I went through and round the whole\nplace. There were many massive tombs, mostly rough-hewn from great slabs\nor blocks of stone. Some of them were marble, and", "arcophagus depended.\n\nThere was a creaking sound--the groaning of a windlass and the clanking\nof a chain. There was heavy breathing close to me somewhere. I was so\nintent on what was going on that I did not see that one by one, seeming\nto grow out of the surrounding darkness, several black figures in monkish\ngarb appeared with the silence of ghosts. Their faces were shrouded in\nblack cowls, wherein were holes through which I could see dark gleaming\neyes. My guide held me tightly" ], [ "system. I may say _inter alia_ that he was mentioned as to\n be the first king when the new constitution should have been\n arranged.\n\n Then a great misfortune came on us; a terrible grief overshadowed the\n land. After a short illness, the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion died\n mysteriously of a mysterious ailment. The grief of the mountaineers\n was so great that it became necessary for the governing Council to\n warn them not to allow their sorrow to be seen. It was imper", "loves. Why, then, should I hesitate to speak of her deeds\nin fitting terms, since it is my duty, my glory, to hold them in higher\nhonour than can any in this land? I shall not shame her--or even\nmyself--by being silent when such a duty urges me to speak, as Voivode,\nas trusted envoy of our nation, as father. Ages hence loyal men and\nwomen of our Land of the Blue Mountains will sing her deeds in song and\ntell them in story. Her name, Teuta,", "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", "--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat in\nfront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite the\nthrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,\nwith jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the unique\nquality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colour\naccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or the\nstars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These details\nshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off", "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", ", there was stillness in the\nHall. He commenced with a few broken words of thanks; then he grew\nsuddenly and strangely calm as he went on:\n\n\"But before I can even attempt to make a fitting reply, I should know if\nit is contemplated to join with me in this great honour my dear wife the\nVoivodin Teuta of Vissarion, who has so splendidly proved her worthiness\nto hold any place in the government of the Land. I fain would . . . \"\n\nHe was interrupted by the Vo", "true that I have had much\n knowledge of the Land of the Blue Mountains and its people, amongst\n which and whom my whole life has been passed. But in such a cause no\n reason was required. There was not a man in the Blue Mountains who\n would not have given his life for the Voivodin Teuta, and when they\n heard that she had not been dead, as they thought, but only in a\n trance, and that it was she whom the marauders had carried off, they\n were in a frenzy. So why should", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", "Teuta. This also was received with\nenthusiasm, and passed _nem. con._\n\nThereupon the President of Council, the Archbishop, and the Vladika,\nacting together as a deputation, went to pray the attention of the\nVoivode Peter Vassarion.\n\nWhen the Voivode entered, the whole Council and officials stood up, and\nfor a few seconds waited in respectful silence with heads bowed down.\nThen, as if by a common impulse--for no word was spoken nor any signal\ngiven--they all drew their", "will bind afresh to the Queen the loyal devotion\nwhich she won from them as Voivodin. Henceforth and for all time the\nShroud shall be a dress of honour in our Land.\"\n\nTeuta looked all ablaze with love and pride and devotion. Stars in her\neyes shone like white fire as she assured them of the granting of their\nrequest. She finished her little speech:\n\n\"I feared that if I carried out my own wish, it might look arrogant, but\nRupert has expressed the same wish, and now I", "Gospodar, bearing himself as a Paladin of old, his mighty form\n pausing for no obstacle. Perpetually did he urge us on. He would\n not stop or pause for a moment, but often as he and I ran\n together--for, lady, in my youth I was the fleetest of all in the\n race, and even that now can head a battalion when duty calls--he\n would ask me certain questions as to the Lady Teuta and of the\n strange manner of her reputed death, as it was gradually unfold", ", because Teuta wishes it; and I like to do\nit myself--said:\n\n\"I must be off to board the Turkish vessel before it comes inshore.\nGood-bye, sir, in case we do not meet again.\" He said the last few words\nin so low a voice that I only could hear them. Then he kissed his wife,\nand told her he expected to be back in time for breakfast, and was gone.\nHe met Rooke--I am hardly accustomed to call him Captain as yet, though,\nindeed, he well deserves it--at", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "a\nburst of enthusiasm, and the handjars flashed. For an instant he stood\nsilent, with lifted hand, as though indicating that he wished to speak.\nSo soon as this was recognized, silence fell on the assembly, and he\nspoke:\n\n\"I pray you, may the Voivodin Teuta of Vissarion, who has accompanied me\nhither, appear with me to hear your wishes?\" There was an immediate and\nenthusiastic acquiescence, and, after bowing his thanks, he retired to\nconduct her.\n\n", "Western King, Rupert's natural dower of stature,\nand the other Queen's bearing of royal dignity and sweetness--by the\nelemental simplicity of Teuta's Shroud. Not one of all that mighty\nthrong but knew something of her wonderful story; and not one but felt\nglad and proud that such a noble woman had won an empire through her own\nbravery, even in the jaws of the grave.\n\nThe armoured yacht, with the remainder of the signatories to the Balkan\nFederation, drew close, and", "level it was manifestly impossible to\n see them, though we from our altitude could see over the stunted\n undergrowth. When within the glade, they took their hands from her.\n She, shuddering instinctively, withdrew to a remote corner of the\n dell.\n\n And then, oh, shame on their manhood!--Turks and heathens though they\n were--we could see that they had submitted her to the indignity of\n gagging her and binding her hands!\n\n Our Voivodin Teuta bound!", "inion was entirely to the effect that the Voivode Peter Vissarion\nshould, if he would accept the high office, be appointed. It was urged\nthat, as his daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, was now married to the\nEnglishman, Rupert Sent Leger--called generally by the mountaineers \"the\nGospodar Rupert\"--a successor to follow the Voivode when God should call\nhim would be at hand--a successor worthy in every way to succeed to so\nillustrious a post. It was urged by", "whenever Rupert should get married or start on the\nway to it by getting engaged--I would meet his future wife with something\nof the same affection that I have always had for himself. But I know now\nthat what was really in my mind was _jealousy_, and that I was really\nfighting against my own instincts, and pretending to myself that I was\nnot jealous. Had I ever had the faintest idea that she would be anything\nthe least like Teuta, that sort of feeling should never have had even a\nfoothold. No wonder my dear boy", "\n\nWhen he had gone, and I was alone, Mr. Trent, who had evidently been\nwaiting for the opportunity, came to me. When we had spoken of my\nmarriage and of Teuta, who seems to have made an immense impression on\nhim, he said suddenly:\n\n\"I suppose we are quite alone, and that we shall not be interrupted?\" I\nsummoned the man outside--there is always a sentry on guard outside my\ndoor or near me, wherever I may be--and gave orders that I was not to be\ndisturbed until I gave", "our Land. This task and guardianship\n was gladly held as an honour by all concerned. For the Voivodin\n Teuta of Vissarion must be taken as representing in her own person\n the glory of the old Serb race, inasmuch as being the only child of\n the Voivode Vissarion, last male of his princely race--the race which\n ever, during the ten centuries of our history, unflinchingly gave\n life and all they held for the protection, safety, and well-being of\n " ], [ "So many had wished to have a last glimpse of her face that the\n Vladika had, with my own consent as Archbishop, arranged for a glass\n cover to be put over the stone coffin wherein her body lay.\n\n After a little time, however, there came a belief to all concerned in\n the guarding of the body--these, of course, being the priests of\n various degrees of dignity appointed to the task--that the Voivodin\n was not really dead, but only in a strangely-prolonged trance.\n Thereupon", "She seemed preternaturally cold; her sleep was almost abnormal in\nintensity, and yet the sound of the cock-crowing came through it.\n\nThese things showed her to be subject to _some_ laws, though not in exact\naccord within those which govern human beings. Under the stress of such\ncircumstances as she must have gone through, her vitality seemed more\nthan human--the quality of vitality which could outlive ordinary burial.\nAgain, such purpose as she had shown in donning, under stress of some\ncompelling direction, her ice-", "There was to be always a watch of\n priests at night in the church, to guard her from ghostly fears as\n well as from more physical dangers; and if she was actually in her\n tomb, it was to be visited at certain intervals. Even the draperies\n which covered her in the sarcophagus were rested on a bridge placed\n from side to side just above her, so as to hide the rising and\n falling of her bosom as she slept under the narcotic.\n\n After a while the prolonged strain began to tell so much on her", "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", "shape, was none other than a _Coffin_, and\nthat the woman standing up in it was clothed in a shroud. Her back was\ntowards us, and she had evidently not heard our approach. As we were\ncreeping along slowly, the engines were almost noiseless, and there was\nhardly a ripple as our fore-foot cut the dark water. Suddenly there was\na wild cry from the bridge--Italians are certainly very excitable; hoarse\ncommands were given to the Quartermaster at the wheel; the engine-room\n", "--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat in\nfront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite the\nthrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,\nwith jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the unique\nquality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colour\naccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or the\nstars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These details\nshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off", "the peace will be a matter of nerve and resolution, and Rooke is\nthe man for the job.\"\n\nWe were all concerned about one thing, naturally important in the eyes of\na woman: What robes was Teuta to wear? In the old days, when there were\nKings and Queens, they doubtless wore something gorgeous or impressive;\nbut whatever it was that they wore has gone to dust centuries ago, and\nthere were no illustrated papers in those primitive days. Teuta was\ntalking to me eagerly, with her dear beautiful brows all wrinkled, when\nRu", "of\nthe meeting of the Council, and when we were through the night was\nclosing in. When I saw Teuta in our own rooms she said at once:\n\n\"Do you mind, dear, if I stay with Aunt Janet to-night? She is very\nupset and nervous, and when I offered to come to her she clung to me and\ncried with relief.\"\n\nSo when I had had some supper, which I took with the Voivode, I came down\nto my old quarters in the Garden Room, and turned in early.\n\nI was", "; but we must\nhelp him by being still, so he won't have to use the windlass, which\nmight creak.\" As she spoke she jerked slightly at the rope, which was\nour preconcerted signal that I was to lift. I was afraid the windlass\nmight creak, and her thoughtful hint decided me. I bent my back to the\ntask, and in a few seconds they were on the platform on which they, at\nTeuta's suggestion, lay flat, one at each side of my seat, so as to keep\nthe best", " It was well known that they were\n already only suspending hostilities until a fitting opportunity\n should arise. Their desire for aggression had become acute after the\n refusal of the nation, and of the girl herself, that she should\n become a wife of the Sultan.\n\n The dead girl had been buried in the Crypt of the church of St. Sava,\n and day after day and night after night, singly and in parties, the\n sorrowing mountaineers had come to pay devotion and reverence at her\n tomb. ", "towards it and said:\n\n \"That is where we saw the dead woman floating in a coffin.\" That was\n rather interesting, so I asked him all about it. He took from his\n pocket-book a cutting from an Italian paper, which he handed to me.\n As I can read and speak Italian fairly well, it was all right; but as\n you, my dear Aunt Janet, are not skilled in languages, and as I doubt\n if there is any assistance of the kind to be had at Croom, I do not\n send it. But", "and bade him welcome to Vissarion.\n\n\"I see,\" he said, \"you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if\nyou wish.\"\n\nMr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently,\nstumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky\nto appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the\nshoulder as he answered:\n\n\"That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal\nwomen of the Blue", "-boat and the dead lady\n that is given in _The Journal of Occultism_ he simply shrugged his\n shoulders. \"Signor, it is all,\" he said. \"That Englishman wrote\n everything after endless questioning.\"\n\n So you see, my dear, that our new home is not without superstitious\n interests of its own. It is rather a nice idea, is it not, to have a\n dead woman cruising round our promontory in a coffin? I doubt if\n even at Croom you can beat that. ", "will bind afresh to the Queen the loyal devotion\nwhich she won from them as Voivodin. Henceforth and for all time the\nShroud shall be a dress of honour in our Land.\"\n\nTeuta looked all ablaze with love and pride and devotion. Stars in her\neyes shone like white fire as she assured them of the granting of their\nrequest. She finished her little speech:\n\n\"I feared that if I carried out my own wish, it might look arrogant, but\nRupert has expressed the same wish, and now I", "level it was manifestly impossible to\n see them, though we from our altitude could see over the stunted\n undergrowth. When within the glade, they took their hands from her.\n She, shuddering instinctively, withdrew to a remote corner of the\n dell.\n\n And then, oh, shame on their manhood!--Turks and heathens though they\n were--we could see that they had submitted her to the indignity of\n gagging her and binding her hands!\n\n Our Voivodin Teuta bound!", "loves. Why, then, should I hesitate to speak of her deeds\nin fitting terms, since it is my duty, my glory, to hold them in higher\nhonour than can any in this land? I shall not shame her--or even\nmyself--by being silent when such a duty urges me to speak, as Voivode,\nas trusted envoy of our nation, as father. Ages hence loyal men and\nwomen of our Land of the Blue Mountains will sing her deeds in song and\ntell them in story. Her name, Teuta,", "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", ", because Teuta wishes it; and I like to do\nit myself--said:\n\n\"I must be off to board the Turkish vessel before it comes inshore.\nGood-bye, sir, in case we do not meet again.\" He said the last few words\nin so low a voice that I only could hear them. Then he kissed his wife,\nand told her he expected to be back in time for breakfast, and was gone.\nHe met Rooke--I am hardly accustomed to call him Captain as yet, though,\nindeed, he well deserves it--at", "system. I may say _inter alia_ that he was mentioned as to\n be the first king when the new constitution should have been\n arranged.\n\n Then a great misfortune came on us; a terrible grief overshadowed the\n land. After a short illness, the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion died\n mysteriously of a mysterious ailment. The grief of the mountaineers\n was so great that it became necessary for the governing Council to\n warn them not to allow their sorrow to be seen. It was imper", "I was doing so Teuta had leaned over the inner edge of the\nplatform, and whispered as softly as the sigh of a gentle breeze:\n\n\"Hist! hist!\" The answer came in a similar sound from some twenty feet\nbelow us, and we knew that the prisoner was alone. Forthwith, having\nfixed the hook of the rope in the ring to which was attached her belt, I\nlowered my wife. Her father evidently knew her whisper, and was ready.\nThe hollow Tower--a smooth cylinder within--sent up the voices from it\nfaint as were the" ], [ "ar Rupert, who has so proved himself,\nyour King. And make me happy in my retirement to the cloister.\"\n\nWhen the Voivode ceased to speak, all still remained silent and standing.\nBut there was no mistaking their acquiescence in his most generous\nprayer. The President of the Council well interpreted the general wish\nwhen he said:\n\n\"Lords of the National Council, Archbishop, Vladika, Lords of the\nCouncils of Justice and National Law, Archimandrites, and all who are\npresent, is", "inion was entirely to the effect that the Voivode Peter Vissarion\nshould, if he would accept the high office, be appointed. It was urged\nthat, as his daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, was now married to the\nEnglishman, Rupert Sent Leger--called generally by the mountaineers \"the\nGospodar Rupert\"--a successor to follow the Voivode when God should call\nhim would be at hand--a successor worthy in every way to succeed to so\nillustrious a post. It was urged by", "to her, and in\n such a way. It would have been only natural if at such a moment of\n gratitude and triumph she had proclaimed the secret which we of the\n Council of the Nation and her father's Commissioners had so\n religiously kept. But none of us knew then either the Voivodin or\n the Gospodar Rupert as we do now. It was well that they were as they\n are, for the jealousy and suspicion of our mountaineers might, even\n at such a moment, and even whilst they throbb", "day the Voivode Peter Vissarion sat with\nthem, but well back, so that at first his presence was hardly noticeable.\nAfter the necessary preliminaries had been gone through, they requested\nthe presence of the Gospodar Rupert--Mr. Rupert Sent Leger--who was\nreported as waiting in the \"Chamber of the High Officers.\" He at once\naccompanied back to the Hall the deputation sent to conduct him. As he\nmade his appearance in the doorway the Councillors stood up. There was", "ar Rupert,\"\nas the mountaineers call him (Mr. Rupert Sent Leger) on the armoured\nyacht he calls _The Lady_. The National Council showed great pleasure\nwhen the Voivode entered the hall in which the Council met. He seemed\nmuch gratified by the reception given to him. Mr. Rupert Sent Leger, by\nthe express desire of the Council, was asked to be present at the\nmeeting. He took a seat at the bottom of the hall, and seemed to prefer\nto remain there, though asked by the President", "on what has been. Be secret of every detail--even\n as to the rescue of the Voivodin--except what I send.\"\n\n Without a word--thus showing immeasurable trust--the whole body--not\n a very large one, it is true--moved on, and the Gospodar began\n signalling. As I was myself expert in the code, I did not require\n any explanation, but followed question and answer on either side.\n The first words the Gospodar Rupert signalled were:\n\n \"Sil", "ite close, she rose up a little till she was something higher than the\nTower, to which she came as straight as an arrow from the bow, and glided\nto her moorings, stopping dead as Rupert pulled a lever, which seemed to\nturn a barrier to the wind. The Voivode sat beside Rupert, but I must\nsay that he seemed to hold on to the bar in front of him even more firmly\nthan Rupert held to his steering-gear.\n\nWhen they had alighted, Rupert greeted his cousin with the utmost\nkindness,", "with the oldest member\n of the Council--Nicolos of Volok--rose, and, after throwing a\n searching look round the faces of all, and seeing grave nods of\n assent--for not a word was spoken--said to him who held the door:\n \"Summon the Gospodar Rupert forthwith!\" When Rupert entered, he\n spoke to him:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, the Council of the Blue Mountains has only one\n answer to give: Proceed! Rescue the Voivode Viss", "my own room, as it is still called. For, though Rupert tells me\nin confidence that under his uncle's will the whole estate of Vissarion,\nCastle and all, really belongs to the Voivode, and though the Voivode has\nbeen persuaded to accept the position, he (the Voivode) will not allow\nanything to be changed. He will not even hear a word of my going, or\nchanging my room, or anything. And Rupert backs him up in it, and Teuta\ntoo. So what am I to", "it agreed that we prepare at leisure a fitting reply to the\nVoivode Peter of the historic House of Vissarion, stating our agreement\nwith his wish?\"\n\nTo which there was a unanimous answer:\n\n\"It is.\" He went on:\n\n\"Further. Shall we ask the Gospodar Rupert of the House of Sent Leger,\nallied through his marriage to the Voivodin Teuta, daughter and only\nchild of the Voivode Peter of Vissarion, to come hither to-morrow?", "do you know who I am, and how I first met Rupert?\"\n\n\"You are the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion--the daughter of the Voivode--Or,\nrather, you were; you are now Mrs. Rupert Sent Leger. For he is still an\nEnglishman, and a good subject of our noble King.\"\n\n\"Yes, Aunt Janet,\" she said, \"I am that, and proud to be it--prouder than\nI would be were I my namesake, who was Queen in the old days. But how", "\n\n I am asked to write by the Vladika, and have permission of the\n Archbishop. I have the honour of transmitting to you the record of\n the pursuit of the Turkish spies who carried off the Voivodin Teuta,\n of the noble House of Vissarion. The pursuit was undertaken by the\n Gospodar Rupert, who asked that I would come with his party, since\n what he was so good as to call my \"great knowledge of the country and\n its people\" might serve much. It is", "uninjured, nothing was left alive on board. Thus\nthe Lord preserves His own! The consideration of this, as well as the\nother incident, was postponed until the coming Voivode and the Gospodar\nRupert, together with who were already on their way hither.\n\n\n\nTHE SAME (LATER IN THE SAME DAY).\n\n\nThe Council resumed its sitting at four o'clock. The Voivode Peter\nVissarion and the Voivodin Teuta had arrived with the \"Gospod", "Gospodar Rupert threw himself\n into the pursuit with fiery zeal and the Berserk passion which he\n inherited from Viking ancestors, whence of old came \"The Sword of\n Freedom\" himself.\n\n But at that very time was another possibility which the Gospodar was\n himself the first to realize. Failing the getting the Voivodin safe\n to Turkish soil, the ravishers might kill her! This would be\n entirely in accord with the base traditions and history of the\n Moslems. So, too", "will bind afresh to the Queen the loyal devotion\nwhich she won from them as Voivodin. Henceforth and for all time the\nShroud shall be a dress of honour in our Land.\"\n\nTeuta looked all ablaze with love and pride and devotion. Stars in her\neyes shone like white fire as she assured them of the granting of their\nrequest. She finished her little speech:\n\n\"I feared that if I carried out my own wish, it might look arrogant, but\nRupert has expressed the same wish, and now I", "but a continuation of\nthat held before the rescue of the Voivodin Vissarion, the members of the\nCouncil having been during the intervening night housed in the Castle of\nVissarion. When, in the early morning, they met, all were jubilant; for\nlate at night the fire-signal had flamed up from Ilsin with the glad news\nthat the Voivode Peter Vissarion was safe, having been rescued with great\ndaring on an aeroplane by his daughter and the Gospodar Rupert, as", "Rupert and I were also standing now--one cannot sit down in the\n presence of such an act as that. \"You are, I am proud to say, allied\n with my family: and I only wish to God it was closer to myself.\"\n Rupert took him by the hand and bent his head before him as answered:\n\n \"The honour is mine, Sir Colin; and no greater can come to any man\n than that which you have just done me. The best way I can show how I\n value it will be to call on you if I am ever", "Crown and Kingship of the Land of the Blue Mountains. The\nmessage was couched in almost the same words as had been used the\nprevious day in making the offer to the Voivode Peter Vissarion, only\ndiffering to meet the special circumstances. The Gospodar Rupert\nlistened in grave silence. The whole thing was manifestly quite new to\nhim, but he preserved a self-control wonderful under the circumstances.\nWhen, having been made aware of the previous offer to the Voivode and the\ndeclared wish of the latter, he rose to speak", "part of neighbouring nations of present greater\nstrength.\"\n\nWhilst he was speaking, the Gospodar Rupert was writing a few words on a\nstrip of paper, which he sent up to the President. When the Voivode had\nfinished speaking, there was a prolonged silence. The President rose,\nand in a hush said that the Council would like to hear Mr. Rupert Sent\nLeger, who had a communication to make regarding certain recent events.\n\nMr. Rupert Sent Leger rose, and reported how, since he had been entrusted\n", "on the Gospodar like a wave of the sea, and in a second\n held him above their heads, tossing on their lifted hands as if on\n stormy breakers. It was as though the old Vikings of whom we have\n heard, and whose blood flows in Rupert's veins, were choosing a chief\n in old fashion. I was myself glad that the men were so taken up with\n the Gospodar that they did not see the glory of the moment in the\n Voivodin's starry eyes; for else they might" ], [ "they seemed like the nucleus of\nan army. The men cheered lustily, till the sound swung high up to us\nlike the roaring of a winter sea. With bared heads they were crying:\n\n\"God and the Blue Mountains! God and the Blue Mountains!\"\n\nI ran down to them as quickly as I could, and began to issue their\ninstructions. Within a time to be computed by minutes the whole number,\norganized by sections, had started to scour the neighbouring mountains.\nAt first they had only understood the call to arms for general safety.", "forward, as if to pull back his arm, but it was too late. I am sure,\n Your Honour, that no affront was intended. He doubtless thought that\n he was doing a kindness of the sort usual in England when one \"tips\"\n a housekeeper. But all the same, to one in her position, it was an\n affront, an insult, open and unmistakable. So it was received by the\n mountaineers, whose handjars flashed out as one. For a second it was\n ", "and secretly, keeping their\n guns in readiness. But they must not fire till need. Remember, my\n brothers,\" said, turning to those who stepped out a pace or two to\n the left, \"that the first shot gives the warning which will be the\n signal for the Voivodin's death. These men will not hesitate. You\n must judge yourselves of the time to shoot. The others of us will\n move to the right and try to find a path on that side. If the valley\n be indeed a pocket between", " Our people,\n like all mountaineers, have good eyes, and the Gospodar is himself an\n eagle in this as in other ways. Three men stood back from the rest.\n They stacked their rifles so that they could seize them easily. Then\n they drew their scimitars, and stood ready, as though on guard.\n\n These were evidently the appointed murderers. Well they knew their\n work; for though they stood in a desert place with none within long\n distance except the pursuing party, of whose approach they", "hearers are with him; if they respond, they must\ncertainly have understood. Last night this was marked. I felt it every\ninstant I was talking and when I came to realize that the men were in\nstrict accord with my general views, I took them into confidence with\nregard to my own personal purpose. It was the beginning of a mutual\ntrust; so for peroration I told them that I had come to the conclusion\nthat what they wanted most for their own protection and the security and\nconsolidation of their nation was arms--arms of the very latest pattern.", "to harm\nher, as they would be certain to do if they have warning of immediate\ndanger.\n\n\"On! on!\"\n\nAnd \"on\" it was all through that terrible night as well as we could\nthrough the forest.\n\nIt was a race between the mountaineers and myself as to who should be\nfirst. I understood now the feeling that animated them, and which\nsingled them out even from amongst their fiery comrades, when the danger\nof the Voivodin became known. These men were no mean contestants even in\nsuch a race,", "\n all know every trade, but amongst them there is someone who can do\n whatever may be required. There are blacksmiths, carpenters,\n farriers, saddle-makers, gardeners, plumbers, cutlers, gunsmiths, so,\n as they all are farmers by origin and sportsmen by practice, they\n will make a rare household body of men. They are nearly all\n first-class shots, and I am having them practise with revolvers.\n They are being taught fencing and broadsword and ju-jitsu;", "an experience, and one not likely to\n be repeated, for, as I told you, in this country every man carries a\n rifle, and knows how to use it. I do not think I have seen a single\n man (or married man either) without his rifle since I came here. I\n wonder if they take them with them to bed! Well, the instant after I\n stood amongst them every rifle in the place was aimed straight at me.\n Don't be alarmed, Aunt Janet; they did not fire at me. If they had I\n", "silence. A number of men surrounded each, and they moved as\nwell as if properly supplied with horses.\n\nIn the meantime, and for a week after the arrival of the guns, the\ndrilling went on without pause. The gun-drill was wonderful. In the\narduous work necessary for it the great strength and stamina of the\nmountaineers showed out wonderfully. They did not seem to know fatigue\nany more than they knew fear.\n\nFor a week this went on, till a perfect discipline and management was\nobtained. They did not pract", "had sent word in the afternoon to the\nmountaineers to tell them to come and remove it. They had answered the\ncall, and it really seemed to me that the whole of the land must that\nnight have been in motion.\n\nThey came as individuals, grouping themselves as they came within the\ndefences of the Castle; some had gathered at fixed points on the way.\nThey went secretly and in silence, stealing through the forests like\nghosts, each party when it grouped taking the place of that which had\ngone on one of the routes radiating round Viss", "only hope that Rooke will be\nreturning soon. I want to see those Ingis-Malbron rifles either safely\nstored in the Castle or, what is better, divided up amongst the\nmountaineers--a thing which will be done at the very earliest moment that\nI can accomplish it. I have a conviction that when these men have\nreceived their arms and ammunition from me they will understand me\nbetter, and not keep any secrets from me.\n\nAll this fortnight when I was not drilling or going about amongst the\nmountaineers, and teaching", "rifles and ammunition reserved for its defence\nif necessary. It was advisable to keep a reserve supply in case it\nshould ever be required. The following night Rooke went away secretly in\nthe chartered vessel. He had to bring back with him the purchased cannon\nand heavy ammunition, which had been in the meantime stored on one of the\nGreek islands. The second morning, having had secret word that the\nsteamer was on the way, I had given the signal for the assembling of the\nmountaineers.\n\nA little after dark the", "of stress and threatened danger to our land.\nBethink ye of this meeting, held here and in secret, in order that no\nwhisper of it may be heard afar. Have ye all, brave men of the Blue\nMountains, come hither through the forest like shadows that some of you,\nthoughtless, may enlighten your enemies as to our secret purpose? The\nthunder of your guns would doubtless sound well in the ears of those who\nwish us ill and try to work us wrong. Fellow-countrymen, know ye not\n", " on waking in a strange place. A second after they each dropped the\n rifle to the hollow of his arm and stood ready for anything. It was\n all as regular and quick and simultaneous as a salute at St. James's\n Palace.\n\n Happily I had no arms of any kind with me, so that there could be no\n complication. I am rather a quick hand myself when there is any\n shooting to be done. However, there was no trouble here, but the\n contrary; the Blue Mountaineers--it sounds", "or make plans in any way till they know whether the other party\n is coming towards them or not. From our height here we can see what\n course the others are taking long before those villains do. Then we\n can make our plans and be ready in time.\"\n\n We waited many minutes, but could see no further signs the other\n pursuing party. These had evidently adopted greater caution in their\n movements as they came closer to where they expected to find the\n enemy. The marauders began to grow anxious. Even at our distance we\n ", "in the coming night.\n\nAll day I spent in going about amongst the mountaineers, drilling them\nand looking after their arms. I _could_ not stay still. My only chance\nof peace was to work, my only chance of sleep to tire myself out.\nUnhappily, I am very strong, so even when I came home at dark I was quite\nfresh. However, I found a cable message from Rooke that the yacht would\narrive at midnight.\n\nThere was no need to summon the mountaineers, as the men in the Castle\n", "who had just before lain on their faces and\n had steadied their rifles to shoot, rose to their feet.\n\n \"Command us, Gospodar!\" they said simply, as they stood to attention.\n \"Shall we go to the head of the ravine road and there take hiding?\"\n He thought for perhaps a minute, whilst we all stood as silent as\n images. I could hear our hearts beating. Then he said:\n\n \"No, not yet. There is time for that yet. They will not--cannot\n stir", "hand of Nature itself. I did not\nreturn home till I was familiar with every detail near and around it.\nThis new knowledge added distinctly to my sense of security.\n\nLater in the day I tried to find the Vladika or any mountaineer of\nimportance, for I thought that such a hiding-place which had been used so\nrecently might be dangerous, and especially at a time when, as I had\nlearned at the meeting where they did _not_ fire their guns that there\nmay have been spies about or a traitor in the land.\n\nEven", "against the one who should begin the attack.\n\n At the time I speak of there was a feeling throughout the Blue\n Mountains--and, indeed, elsewhere--that Turkey was preparing for a\n war of offence. The objective of her attack was not known anywhere,\n but here there was evidence that the Turkish \"Bureau of Spies\" was in\n active exercise towards their sturdy little neighbour. To prepare\n for this, the Voivode Peter Vissarion approached me in order to\n obtain the necessary \"sinews of war.\"\n\n The", "party may not come across\n them. To know that, they are waiting. If those others do not come\n up the valley, they will proceed on their way. They will return up\n the path the way they came. There we can wait them, charge into the\n middle of them when she is opposite, and cut down those around her.\n Then the others will open fire, and we shall be rid of them!\n\n Whilst he was speaking, two of the men of our party, who I knew to be\n good sharpshooters, and" ], [ "vessel, large or small,\nhad heft the harbour during the night. The inference, therefore, was\nthat the Voivode's captors had made inland with him--if, indeed, they\nwere not already secreted in or near the town.\n\nWhilst we were receiving the various reports, a hurried message came that\nit was now believed that the whole party were in the Silent Tower. This\nwas a well-chosen place for such an enterprise. It was a massive tower\nof immense strength, built as a memorial--and also as a \"keep", "the Turk is the old aggression under a new form. It is a\n new and more daring step than ever to try to capture your chief and\n his daughter, the Voivodin, whom you love. Happily, the latter part\n of the scheme is frustrated. The Voivodin is safe and amongst us.\n But the Voivode is held prisoner--if, indeed, he be still alive. He\n must be somewhere near Ilsin--but where exactly we know not as yet.\n We have an expedition ready to start the moment we", "Gospodar hurried them all into the\n great hall of the Castle, which had in the meantime been got ready.\n I, too, went with him, but the Voivodin remained without.\n\n When all were seated, he rose and said:\n\n \"My Lord Archbishop, Vladika, and Lords of the Council all, I have\n dared to summon you in this way because time presses, and the life of\n one you all love--the Voivode Vissarion--is at stake. This audacious\n attempt of", ".\nIf, therefore, it had been possible to the Turkish marauders to gain\nentrance and exit, it might be a difficult as well as a dangerous task to\ntry to cut the Voivode out. His presence with them was a dangerous\nmenace to any force attacking them, for they would hold his life as a\nthreat.\n\nI consulted with the Vladika at once as to what was best to be done. And\nwe decided that, though we should put a cordon of guards around it at a\nsafe distance to prevent them receiving warning, we should at present", "the flashes of the white shroud of their captive in the\n midst of them.\n\n From where we were grouped, amid the great tree-trunks on the very\n brow of the cliff, we could, when our eyes were accustomed to the\n shadow, see them quite well. In great haste, and half dragging, half\n carrying the Voivodin, they crossed the open space and took refuge in\n a little grassy alcove surrounded, save for its tortuous entrance, by\n undergrowth. From the valley", "which rises behind the State House, and disappeared\ninto the shadow of the forest. Then my work claimed me, for I wished to\nrecord the proceedings so far whilst all was fresh in my mind. In\nsilence, as of the dead, the Council waited, no man challenging opinion\nof his neighbour even by a glance.\n\nAlmost a full hour had elapsed when the Voivode came again to the\nCouncil, moving with slow and stately gravity, as has always been his\nwont since age began to hamper the movement which in youth had been so\nnotable", "by some means the Turkish \"Bureau of Spies\" must have got\n knowledge of the fact already. To steal a dead body for the purpose\n of later establishing a fictitious claim would have been an\n enterprise even more desperate than that already undertaken. We\n inferred from many signs, made known to us in an investigation, that\n a daring party of the Sultan's emissaries had made a secret incursion\n with the object of kidnapping the Voivodin. They must have been bold\n of heart and strong of resource to", "and went about their work. I asked Mr. Melton to follow,\n and led the way to the Castle.\n\n When we got close to the great entrance within the walled courtyard,\n we found a large number of the servants gathered, and with them many\n of the mountaineers, who have kept an organized guard all round the\n Castle ever since the abducting of the Voivodin. As both Your Honour\n and the Voivode were away at Plazac, the guard had for the time been\n doubled. When the", "the\ndevotion with which they kissed the hands and feet of both the Voivode\nand his daughter, were evidence enough for me, even had I not had my own\nshare of their grateful rejoicing.\n\nIn the midst of it all the low, stern voice of Rooke, who had burst a way\nto the front beside the Vladika, said:\n\n\"Now is the time to attack the Tower. Forward, brothers, but in silence.\nLet there not be a sound till you are near the gate; then play your\nlittle comedy of the escaping marauders.", "by the Council with the rescue of the Voivode Peter of Vissarion, he had,\nby aid of the Voivodin, effected the escape of the Voivode from the\nSilent Tower; also that, following this happy event, the mountaineers,\nwho had made a great cordon round the Tower so soon as it was known that\nthe Voivode had been imprisoned within it, had stormed it in the night.\nAs a determined resistance was offered by the marauders, who had used it\nas a place of refuge, none of these escaped. ", "ly. He went like a\n stag breaking covert, and was soon out of sight. They halted a\n moment or two. Then some few ran on, and all the rest came back\n towards us. Quickly they improvised a litter with cords and\n branches, and insisted that the Voivodin should use it. In an\n incredibly short time we were under way again, and proceeding with\n great rapidity towards Vissarion. The men took it in turns to help\n with the litter; I had the honour of taking", "like mirth, but\nmuffled by distance and thick walls. From it we took fresh heart, for it\ntold us that our enemies were gathered in the lower chambers. If only\nthe Voivode should be on the upper stage, all would be well.\n\nSlowly, almost inch by inch, and with a suspense that was agonizing, we\ncrossed some twenty or thirty feet above the top of the wall. I could\nsee as we came near the jagged line of white patches where the heads of\nthe massacred Turks placed there on sp", " had descended the hill it was evident that the Voivodin could not\n keep up the terrific pace at which we were going. She struggled\n heroically, but the long journey she had already taken, and the\n hardship and anxiety she had suffered, had told on her. The Gospodar\n stopped, and said that it would be better that he should press on--it\n was, perhaps, her father's life--and said he would carry her.\n\n \"No, no!\" she answered. \"Go on! I shall follow", ", with deep water. It is large\nenough to take the yacht, though a much larger vessel could not safely\nenter. We ran in, and anchored close to the shore, which has a rocky\nfrontage--a natural shelf of rock, which is practically the same as a\nquay. Here we met the men who had come from Ilsin and the neighbourhood\nin answer to our signalling earlier in the day. They gave us the latest\ninformation regarding the kidnapping of the Voivode, and informed us that\nevery man in that section of the country was", "receive your\n sanction--your commands. We shall obey your wishes with our lives.\n But as the matter is instant, I would venture to ask one question,\n and one only: 'Shall we rescue the Voivode at any cost that may\n present itself?' I ask this, for the matter has now become an\n international one, and, if our enemies are as earnest as we are, the\n issue is war!\"\n\n Having so spoken, and with a dignity and force which is\n inexpressible, he withdrew; and the Council,", "promise you that, when I\ncan see a just and fitting issue to my thought, I shall at once return.\"\n\nThe President of the Council looked around him, and, seeing everywhere\nthe bowing heads of acquiescence, spoke with a reverent gravity:\n\n\"We shall wait in patience whatsoever time you will, and may the God who\nrules all worthy hearts guide you to His Will!\"\n\nAnd so in silence the Voivode passed out of the hall.\n\nFrom my seat near a window I could watch him go, as with measured steps\nhe passed up the hill", ", at which arrivals are rare. And it turned\nout that the little hotel--the only fairly good one in Ilsin--was almost\nfilled up. Indeed, only one room was left, which the Voivode took for\nthe night. The innkeeper did not know the Voivode in his disguise, but\nsuspected who it was from the description. He dined quietly, and went to\nbed. His room was at the back, on the ground-floor, looking out on the\nbank of the little River Silva, which here runs into the harbour.", "with the oldest member\n of the Council--Nicolos of Volok--rose, and, after throwing a\n searching look round the faces of all, and seeing grave nods of\n assent--for not a word was spoken--said to him who held the door:\n \"Summon the Gospodar Rupert forthwith!\" When Rupert entered, he\n spoke to him:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, the Council of the Blue Mountains has only one\n answer to give: Proceed! Rescue the Voivode Viss", "but a continuation of\nthat held before the rescue of the Voivodin Vissarion, the members of the\nCouncil having been during the intervening night housed in the Castle of\nVissarion. When, in the early morning, they met, all were jubilant; for\nlate at night the fire-signal had flamed up from Ilsin with the glad news\nthat the Voivode Peter Vissarion was safe, having been rescued with great\ndaring on an aeroplane by his daughter and the Gospodar Rupert, as", "and secretly, keeping their\n guns in readiness. But they must not fire till need. Remember, my\n brothers,\" said, turning to those who stepped out a pace or two to\n the left, \"that the first shot gives the warning which will be the\n signal for the Voivodin's death. These men will not hesitate. You\n must judge yourselves of the time to shoot. The others of us will\n move to the right and try to find a path on that side. If the valley\n be indeed a pocket between" ], [ "understand the\ntrue meaning of the strange occurrences that have come into my life.\nEven the origin and purpose of that first strange visit to my room became\nclear. No wonder that the girl could move about the Castle in so\nmysterious a manner. She had lived there all her life, and was familiar\nwith the secret ways of entrance and exit. I had always believed that\nthe place must have been honeycombed with secret passages. No wonder\nthat she could find a way to the battlements, mysterious to everybody\nelse. No wonder that she could meet me", "grim comedy which she had undertaken to perform\ntill my return; and how, on the second night after her marriage, as she\nwas in the garden of the Castle--going, as she shyly told me, to see if\nall was well with her husband--she was seized secretly, muffled up,\nbound, and carried off. Here she made a pause and a digression.\nEvidently some fear lest her husband and myself should quarrel assailed\nher, for she said:\n\n\"Do understand, father, that Rupert's marriage to me was in all", "\nand where did I see Rupert first?\" I did not know, and frankly told her\nso. So she answered her question herself:\n\n\"I saw him first in his own room at night.\" I knew in my heart that in\nwhatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her\nto go on:\n\n\"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that\nI fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am\nnow!\"\n\nOn the instant it", "III: THE COMING OF THE LADY\n\n\nRupert Sent Leger's Journal.\n\n\n _April_ 3, 1907.\n\nI have waited till now--well into midday--before beginning to set down\nthe details of the strange episode of last night. I have spoken with\npersons whom I know to be of normal type. I have breakfasted, as usual\nheartily, and have every reason to consider myself in perfect health and\nsanity. So that the record following may be regarded as not", "\nhow, being wearied with her long waiting in the tomb, and waking to find\nherself alone when the floods were out, and even the Crypt submerged, she\nsought safety and warmth elsewhere; and how she came to the Castle in the\nnight, and found the strange man alone. I said: \"That was dangerous,\ndaughter, if not wrong. The man, brave and devoted as he is, must answer\nme--your father.\" At that she was greatly upset, and before going on\nwith her narrative, drew me close in her arms,", "such strange ways as she\ndid. Why, at this very moment she was within my own gates. Locks and\nbars, even the very seal of death itself, seemed unable to make for her a\nprison-house. With such freedom of action and movement, going when she\nwould into secret places, what might she not know that was known to\nothers? How could anyone keep secret from such an one even an ill\nintent? Such thoughts, such surmises, had often flashed through my mind\nin moments of excitement rather than of reflection, but never long enough\nto", "is in love with her, for, truth to tell,\nI am in love with her myself. I don't think I ever met a creature--a\nwoman creature, of course, I mean--with so many splendid qualities. I\nalmost fear to say it, lest it should seem to myself wrong; but I think\nshe is as good as a woman as Rupert is as a man. And what more than that\ncan I say? I thought I loved her and trusted her, and knew her all I\ncould, until this morning.\n\nI was in", "barred it behind\nme, I felt a pang that I should have had to shut her out like that; but I\nfeared lest there should arise some embarrassing suspicion if the door\nshould be found open. Later came the comforting thought that, as she had\ngot to the roof though the door had been shut, she would be able to get\naway by the same means. She had evidently knowledge of some secret way\ninto the Castle. The alternative was that she must have some\nsupernatural quality or faculty which gave her strange powers. I did not\nwish to", "\n \"Rupert Sent Leger, my dear niece is a woman of great discretion and\n discernment. And, moreover, I am thinking she has in her some of the\n gift of Second Sight that has been a heritage of our blood. And I am\n one with my niece--in everything!\" The whole thing was quite regal\n in manner; it seemed to take me back to the days of the Pretender.\n\n It was not, however, a time for sentiment, but for action--we had met\n regarding", ", I fancy!\n\n But I must tell you all the realities of the Castle and around it.\n So I will write again within a day or two, and try to let you know\n enough to prepare you for coming here. Till then adieu, my dear.\n\n Your loving\n RUPERT.\n\n_From Rupert Sent Leger_, _Vissarion_, _to Janet MacKelpie_, _Croom_.\n\n _January_ 25, 190", "row from the\nwarmth in which she revelled on that strange first night of our meeting;\nso, too, her swift departure at midnight on the second. Into the same\ncategory came the facts of her constant wearing of her Shroud, even her\npledging herself, and me also, on the fragment torn from it, which she\nhad given to me as a souvenir; her lying still in the glass-covered tomb;\nher coming alone to the most secret places in a fortified Castle where\nevery aperture was secured by unopened locks and bolts; her very\n", "\n\n_Letter from Rupert Sent Leger_, _Castle of Vissarion_, _the Spear of\nIvan_, _Land of the Blue Mountains_, _to Miss Janet MacKelpie_, _Croom\nCastle_, _Ross-shire_, _N.B._\n\n _January_ 23, 1907.\n\n MY DEAREST AUNT JANET,\n\n As you see, I am here at last. Having got my formal duty done, as\n you made me promise--", "from the top of the Castle. Little Rupert was there--he\nis always awake early and as bright as a bee. I was holding him in my\narms, and when his mother leant over to kiss him good-bye, he held out\nhis arms to her in a way that said as plainly as if he had spoken, \"Take\nme with you.\"\n\nShe looked appealingly at Rupert, who nodded, and said: \"All right. Take\nhim, darling. He will have to learn some day, and the sooner the\nbetter.\" The", "my\nside my future must be absolutely barren.\n\nIt was presently apparent that she did not mean to stay as long on this\noccasion as on the last. When the castle clock struck midnight she\nsuddenly sprang to her feet with a bound, saying:\n\n\"I must go! There is midnight!\" I rose at once, the intensity of her\nspeech having instantly obliterated the sleep which, under the influence\nof rest and warmth, was creeping upon me. Once more she was in a frenzy\nof haste, so I hurried towards", "long; so I was additionally disappointed by the contrast when I\ndid not see my Lady there when I arrived. However, my heart beat freely\nagain--perhaps more freely than ever--when I saw her crouching in the\nshadow of the Castle wall. From where she was she could not be seen from\nany point save that alone which I occupied; even from there it was only\nher white shroud that was conspicuous through the deep gloom of the\nshadow. The moonlight was so bright that the shadows were almost\nunnaturally black.\n\nI rushed over towards", "no difference in her sweetness\nto me. Together we went along the path through the wood, she keeping\nequal step with me in wifely way.\n\nWhen we had come through the trees near enough to see the roof of the\nCastle, now gilded with the moonlight, she stopped, and looking at me\nwith eyes full of love, said:\n\n\"Here I must leave you!\"\n\n\"What?\" I was all aghast, and I felt that my chagrin was expressed in\nthe tone of horrified surprise in my voice. She went", ". She seemed\n to have disappeared without leaving a trace.\n\n Straightway they went to the Vladika, and signalled to me by the\n fire-signal at the monastery at Astrag, where I then was. I took a\n band of mountaineers with me, and set out to scour the country. But\n before going I sent an urgent message to the Gospodar Rupert, asking\n him, who showed so much interest and love to our Land, to help us in\n our trouble. He, of course, knew nothing", ". This book is to\nbe about Rupert. So our little man can only be what we shall call a\ncorollary.\" And so it is.\n\nI should mention here that the book is Teuta's idea. Before little\nRupert came she controlled herself wonderfully, doing only what was\nthought best for her under the circumstances. As I could see that it\nwould be a help for her to have some quiet occupation which would\ninterest her without tiring her, I looked up (with his permission, of\ncourse) all Rupert's old letters", "your room and give him some\nbreakfast.\" Rupert stood very still for some seconds. His face had got\nred again after his paleness. Then he bowed to my father, and followed\nMrs. Martindale, who had moved to the door.\n\nNearly an hour afterwards my father sent a servant to tell him to come to\nthe study. My mother was there, too, and I had gone back with her. The\nman came back and said:\n\n\"Mrs. Martindale, sir, wishes to know, with her respectful service", "come\nto avoid her questioning at other times--kept my imagination at high\npressure. Despite myself, I could not but find new cause for concern in\nthe perennial founts of her superstition. I had thought, years ago, that\nI had then sounded the depths of this branch of psychicism; but this new\nphase of thought, founded on the really deep hold which the existence of\nmy beautiful visitor and her sad and dreadful circumstances had taken\nupon me, brought me a new concern in the matter of self-importance. I\ncame to think" ], [ "by the Council with the rescue of the Voivode Peter of Vissarion, he had,\nby aid of the Voivodin, effected the escape of the Voivode from the\nSilent Tower; also that, following this happy event, the mountaineers,\nwho had made a great cordon round the Tower so soon as it was known that\nthe Voivode had been imprisoned within it, had stormed it in the night.\nAs a determined resistance was offered by the marauders, who had used it\nas a place of refuge, none of these escaped. ", "but a continuation of\nthat held before the rescue of the Voivodin Vissarion, the members of the\nCouncil having been during the intervening night housed in the Castle of\nVissarion. When, in the early morning, they met, all were jubilant; for\nlate at night the fire-signal had flamed up from Ilsin with the glad news\nthat the Voivode Peter Vissarion was safe, having been rescued with great\ndaring on an aeroplane by his daughter and the Gospodar Rupert, as", ".\nIf, therefore, it had been possible to the Turkish marauders to gain\nentrance and exit, it might be a difficult as well as a dangerous task to\ntry to cut the Voivode out. His presence with them was a dangerous\nmenace to any force attacking them, for they would hold his life as a\nthreat.\n\nI consulted with the Vladika at once as to what was best to be done. And\nwe decided that, though we should put a cordon of guards around it at a\nsafe distance to prevent them receiving warning, we should at present", "Gospodar hurried them all into the\n great hall of the Castle, which had in the meantime been got ready.\n I, too, went with him, but the Voivodin remained without.\n\n When all were seated, he rose and said:\n\n \"My Lord Archbishop, Vladika, and Lords of the Council all, I have\n dared to summon you in this way because time presses, and the life of\n one you all love--the Voivode Vissarion--is at stake. This audacious\n attempt of", "receive your\n sanction--your commands. We shall obey your wishes with our lives.\n But as the matter is instant, I would venture to ask one question,\n and one only: 'Shall we rescue the Voivode at any cost that may\n present itself?' I ask this, for the matter has now become an\n international one, and, if our enemies are as earnest as we are, the\n issue is war!\"\n\n Having so spoken, and with a dignity and force which is\n inexpressible, he withdrew; and the Council,", "the\ndevotion with which they kissed the hands and feet of both the Voivode\nand his daughter, were evidence enough for me, even had I not had my own\nshare of their grateful rejoicing.\n\nIn the midst of it all the low, stern voice of Rooke, who had burst a way\nto the front beside the Vladika, said:\n\n\"Now is the time to attack the Tower. Forward, brothers, but in silence.\nLet there not be a sound till you are near the gate; then play your\nlittle comedy of the escaping marauders.", "ion. There\n is but one thing left to us if we wish to save the Voivodin. Do you,\n when the time comes, take these men and join the watcher at the top\n of the ravine road. When the shots are fired, do you out handjar,\n and rush the ravine and across the valley. Brothers, you may be in\n time to avenge the Voivodin, if you cannot save her. For me there\n must be a quicker way, and to it I go. As there is not", "the flashes of the white shroud of their captive in the\n midst of them.\n\n From where we were grouped, amid the great tree-trunks on the very\n brow of the cliff, we could, when our eyes were accustomed to the\n shadow, see them quite well. In great haste, and half dragging, half\n carrying the Voivodin, they crossed the open space and took refuge in\n a little grassy alcove surrounded, save for its tortuous entrance, by\n undergrowth. From the valley", "like mirth, but\nmuffled by distance and thick walls. From it we took fresh heart, for it\ntold us that our enemies were gathered in the lower chambers. If only\nthe Voivode should be on the upper stage, all would be well.\n\nSlowly, almost inch by inch, and with a suspense that was agonizing, we\ncrossed some twenty or thirty feet above the top of the wall. I could\nsee as we came near the jagged line of white patches where the heads of\nthe massacred Turks placed there on sp", "ly. He went like a\n stag breaking covert, and was soon out of sight. They halted a\n moment or two. Then some few ran on, and all the rest came back\n towards us. Quickly they improvised a litter with cords and\n branches, and insisted that the Voivodin should use it. In an\n incredibly short time we were under way again, and proceeding with\n great rapidity towards Vissarion. The men took it in turns to help\n with the litter; I had the honour of taking", "on what has been. Be secret of every detail--even\n as to the rescue of the Voivodin--except what I send.\"\n\n Without a word--thus showing immeasurable trust--the whole body--not\n a very large one, it is true--moved on, and the Gospodar began\n signalling. As I was myself expert in the code, I did not require\n any explanation, but followed question and answer on either side.\n The first words the Gospodar Rupert signalled were:\n\n \"Sil", ". Again the handjar flashed, this\n time downwards, and the lady was free. Without an instant's pause\n the Gospodar tore off the gag, and with his left arm round her and\n handjar in right hand, stood face toward his living foes. The\n Voivodin stooped suddenly, and then, raising the yataghan which had\n fallen from the hand of one of the dead marauders, stood armed beside\n him.\n\n The rifles were now cracking fast, as the mar", "with the oldest member\n of the Council--Nicolos of Volok--rose, and, after throwing a\n searching look round the faces of all, and seeing grave nods of\n assent--for not a word was spoken--said to him who held the door:\n \"Summon the Gospodar Rupert forthwith!\" When Rupert entered, he\n spoke to him:\n\n \"Gospodar Rupert, the Council of the Blue Mountains has only one\n answer to give: Proceed! Rescue the Voivode Viss", "ied, but almost overcome with sleep. When we came into the tent,\nover which at a little distance a cordon of our mountaineers stood on\nguard, he said to me:\n\n\"May I ask you, sir, to pardon me for a time, and allow the Voivodin to\nexplain matters to you? She will, I know, so far assist me, for there is\nso much work still to be done before we are free of the present peril.\nFor myself, I am almost overcome with sleep. For three nights I have had\nno sleep", " had descended the hill it was evident that the Voivodin could not\n keep up the terrific pace at which we were going. She struggled\n heroically, but the long journey she had already taken, and the\n hardship and anxiety she had suffered, had told on her. The Gospodar\n stopped, and said that it would be better that he should press on--it\n was, perhaps, her father's life--and said he would carry her.\n\n \"No, no!\" she answered. \"Go on! I shall follow", "the Turk is the old aggression under a new form. It is a\n new and more daring step than ever to try to capture your chief and\n his daughter, the Voivodin, whom you love. Happily, the latter part\n of the scheme is frustrated. The Voivodin is safe and amongst us.\n But the Voivode is held prisoner--if, indeed, he be still alive. He\n must be somewhere near Ilsin--but where exactly we know not as yet.\n We have an expedition ready to start the moment we", "vessel, large or small,\nhad heft the harbour during the night. The inference, therefore, was\nthat the Voivode's captors had made inland with him--if, indeed, they\nwere not already secreted in or near the town.\n\nWhilst we were receiving the various reports, a hurried message came that\nit was now believed that the whole party were in the Silent Tower. This\nwas a well-chosen place for such an enterprise. It was a massive tower\nof immense strength, built as a memorial--and also as a \"keep", "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "prolonged them immeasurably--there came a large\n space of rock some three times his own length. He did not pause, but\n swung himself to one side, so that he should fall close to the\n Voivodin and her guards. These men did not seem to notice, for their\n attention was fixed on the wood whence they expected their messenger\n to signal. But they raised their yataghans in readiness. The shots\n had alarmed them; and they meant to do the murder now--messenger or\n no", "uninjured, nothing was left alive on board. Thus\nthe Lord preserves His own! The consideration of this, as well as the\nother incident, was postponed until the coming Voivode and the Gospodar\nRupert, together with who were already on their way hither.\n\n\n\nTHE SAME (LATER IN THE SAME DAY).\n\n\nThe Council resumed its sitting at four o'clock. The Voivode Peter\nVissarion and the Voivodin Teuta had arrived with the \"Gospod" ], [ "a mighty warrior, answered the summons of the\nVladika when misfortune came upon my house in the capture by enemies of\nmy dear daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, whom you hold in your hearts; who,\nwith a chosen band of our brothers, pursued the marauders, and himself,\nby a deed of daring and prowess, of which poets shall hereafter sing,\nsaved her, when hope itself seemed to be dead, from their ruthless hands,\nand brought her back to us; who administered condign punishment to the\nm", "level it was manifestly impossible to\n see them, though we from our altitude could see over the stunted\n undergrowth. When within the glade, they took their hands from her.\n She, shuddering instinctively, withdrew to a remote corner of the\n dell.\n\n And then, oh, shame on their manhood!--Turks and heathens though they\n were--we could see that they had submitted her to the indignity of\n gagging her and binding her hands!\n\n Our Voivodin Teuta bound!", "Teuta. This also was received with\nenthusiasm, and passed _nem. con._\n\nThereupon the President of Council, the Archbishop, and the Vladika,\nacting together as a deputation, went to pray the attention of the\nVoivode Peter Vassarion.\n\nWhen the Voivode entered, the whole Council and officials stood up, and\nfor a few seconds waited in respectful silence with heads bowed down.\nThen, as if by a common impulse--for no word was spoken nor any signal\ngiven--they all drew their", "true that I have had much\n knowledge of the Land of the Blue Mountains and its people, amongst\n which and whom my whole life has been passed. But in such a cause no\n reason was required. There was not a man in the Blue Mountains who\n would not have given his life for the Voivodin Teuta, and when they\n heard that she had not been dead, as they thought, but only in a\n trance, and that it was she whom the marauders had carried off, they\n were in a frenzy. So why should", " It was well known that they were\n already only suspending hostilities until a fitting opportunity\n should arise. Their desire for aggression had become acute after the\n refusal of the nation, and of the girl herself, that she should\n become a wife of the Sultan.\n\n The dead girl had been buried in the Crypt of the church of St. Sava,\n and day after day and night after night, singly and in parties, the\n sorrowing mountaineers had come to pay devotion and reverence at her\n tomb. ", "if the lesson of his physiognomy be true, he\nis as sterling inwardly as his external is fair. \"Now,\" said I to Teuta,\n\"we are to all intents quite alone. Tell me all that has been, so that I\nmay understand.\"\n\nWhereupon my daughter, making me sit down, knelt beside me, and told me\nfrom end to end the most marvellous story I had ever heard or read of.\nSomething of it I had already known from the Archbishop Paleologue's\nlater letters,", "\n\n I am asked to write by the Vladika, and have permission of the\n Archbishop. I have the honour of transmitting to you the record of\n the pursuit of the Turkish spies who carried off the Voivodin Teuta,\n of the noble House of Vissarion. The pursuit was undertaken by the\n Gospodar Rupert, who asked that I would come with his party, since\n what he was so good as to call my \"great knowledge of the country and\n its people\" might serve much. It is", "loves. Why, then, should I hesitate to speak of her deeds\nin fitting terms, since it is my duty, my glory, to hold them in higher\nhonour than can any in this land? I shall not shame her--or even\nmyself--by being silent when such a duty urges me to speak, as Voivode,\nas trusted envoy of our nation, as father. Ages hence loyal men and\nwomen of our Land of the Blue Mountains will sing her deeds in song and\ntell them in story. Her name, Teuta,", "So many had wished to have a last glimpse of her face that the\n Vladika had, with my own consent as Archbishop, arranged for a glass\n cover to be put over the stone coffin wherein her body lay.\n\n After a little time, however, there came a belief to all concerned in\n the guarding of the body--these, of course, being the priests of\n various degrees of dignity appointed to the task--that the Voivodin\n was not really dead, but only in a strangely-prolonged trance.\n Thereupon", "system. I may say _inter alia_ that he was mentioned as to\n be the first king when the new constitution should have been\n arranged.\n\n Then a great misfortune came on us; a terrible grief overshadowed the\n land. After a short illness, the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion died\n mysteriously of a mysterious ailment. The grief of the mountaineers\n was so great that it became necessary for the governing Council to\n warn them not to allow their sorrow to be seen. It was imper", "thood undertook through the Vladika and myself to further a\n ghostly belief amongst the mountaineers which would tend to prevent a\n too close or too persistent observation. The Vampire legend was\n spread as a protection against partial discovery by any mischance,\n and other weird beliefs were set afoot and fostered. Arrangements\n were made that only on certain days were the mountaineers to be\n admitted to the Crypt, she agreeing that for these occasions she was\n to take opiates or carry out any other aid to the preserv", "inion was entirely to the effect that the Voivode Peter Vissarion\nshould, if he would accept the high office, be appointed. It was urged\nthat, as his daughter, the Voivodin Teuta, was now married to the\nEnglishman, Rupert Sent Leger--called generally by the mountaineers \"the\nGospodar Rupert\"--a successor to follow the Voivode when God should call\nhim would be at hand--a successor worthy in every way to succeed to so\nillustrious a post. It was urged by", "that\n it was decided that she should take now and again exercise out of\n doors. This was not difficult, for when the Vampire story which we\n had spread began to be widely known, her being seen would be accepted\n as a proof of its truth. Still, as there was a certain danger in her\n being seen at all, we thought it necessary to exact from her a solemn\n oath that so long as her sad task lasted she should under no\n circumstances ever wear any dress but her shroud--this being the only\n way to insure", "attacks \"Balka\" or any part of it, so long as Rupert and Teuta live in\nthe hearts of that people, and bind them into an irresistible unity.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{1} Vladika, a high functionary in the Land of the Blue Mountains. He\nis a sort of official descendant of the old Prince-Bishops who used at\none time to govern the State. In process of time the system has changed,\nbut the function--shorn of its personal dominance--remains. The", "and bade him welcome to Vissarion.\n\n\"I see,\" he said, \"you have met Teuta. Now you may congratulate me, if\nyou wish.\"\n\nMr. Melton made a long rodomontade about her beauty, but presently,\nstumbling about in his speech, said something regarding it being unlucky\nto appear in grave-clothes. Rupert laughed, and clapped him on the\nshoulder as he answered:\n\n\"That pattern of frock is likely to become a national dress for loyal\nwomen of the Blue", "a\nburst of enthusiasm, and the handjars flashed. For an instant he stood\nsilent, with lifted hand, as though indicating that he wished to speak.\nSo soon as this was recognized, silence fell on the assembly, and he\nspoke:\n\n\"I pray you, may the Voivodin Teuta of Vissarion, who has accompanied me\nhither, appear with me to hear your wishes?\" There was an immediate and\nenthusiastic acquiescence, and, after bowing his thanks, he retired to\nconduct her.\n\n", "\n none that they themselves do not appoint to rulership. This has been\n the history in the past. But now and again an individual has arisen\n or come to the front adapted personally for such government as this\n land requires. And so the Lady Teuta, Voivodin of the Blue\n Mountains, was put for her proper guarding in the charge of myself as\n Head of the Eastern Church in the Land of the Blue Mountains, steps\n being taken in such wise that no capture of her could be effected by\n unscrupulous enemies of this", "not\ncome out to them and force an issue if need be?\"\n\nWhen Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation in\nevery phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety regarding\nher father's safety. At first she was hardly able to speak, or even to\nthink, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and her reasoning palsied\nwith indignation. But presently the fighting blood of her race restored\nher faculties, and then her woman's quick wit was worth the reasoning of", "stolen up\nduring the night-time without lights. But the Vladika and I were\nsatisfied that the Turkish vessel was watching--was in league with both\nparties of marauders--and was intended to take off any of the strangers,\nor their prey, who might reach Ilsin undetected. It was evidently with\nthis view that the kidnappers of Teuta had, in the first instance, made\nwith all speed for the south. It was only when disappointed there that\nthey headed up north, seeking in desperation for some chance of crossing\nthe border", "--was the Queen Consort, Teuta. She sat in\nfront of a small gallery erected for the purpose just opposite the\nthrone. She is a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and finely-formed,\nwith jet-black hair and eyes like black diamonds, but with the unique\nquality that there are stars in them which seem to take varied colour\naccording to each strong emotion. But it was not even her beauty or the\nstars in her eyes which drew the first glance of all. These details\nshowed on scrutiny, but from afar off" ], [ "\n do were the call to them--they would not accept aid from one outside\n themselves. My good friend, they would resent it, and might show to\n you, who wish us all so well, active hostility, which might end in\n danger, or even death. That was why, my friend, I asked to put a\n clause in our agreement, that I might have right to repurchase my\n estate, regarding which you would fain act so generously.\"\n\n Thus it is, my dear nephew Rupert, only son of my dear sister, that", "The spontaneous action of the Gospodar Rupert was another source of joy\nto all--a fitting corollary to what had gone before. He rose to his\nfeet, and, taking his wife in his arms, kissed her before all. Then they\nsat down, with their chairs close, bashfully holding hands like a pair of\nlovers.\n\nThen Rupert arose--he is Rupert now; no lesser name is on the lips of his\npeople henceforth. With an intense earnestness which seemed to glow in\nhis face, he said simply:", "Rupert and I were also standing now--one cannot sit down in the\n presence of such an act as that. \"You are, I am proud to say, allied\n with my family: and I only wish to God it was closer to myself.\"\n Rupert took him by the hand and bent his head before him as answered:\n\n \"The honour is mine, Sir Colin; and no greater can come to any man\n than that which you have just done me. The best way I can show how I\n value it will be to call on you if I am ever", " glad of it, for as Rupert is going to settle there, it will be good\n for him to have round him a little colony of his own people. And it\n will be good for them, too, for I know he will be good to them--as\n you will, my dear. The hills are barren here, and life is hard, and\n each year there is more and more demand for crofts, and sooner or\n later our people must thin out. And mayhap our little settlement of\n MacKelpie clan away beyond the front", ". This book is to\nbe about Rupert. So our little man can only be what we shall call a\ncorollary.\" And so it is.\n\nI should mention here that the book is Teuta's idea. Before little\nRupert came she controlled herself wonderfully, doing only what was\nthought best for her under the circumstances. As I could see that it\nwould be a help for her to have some quiet occupation which would\ninterest her without tiring her, I looked up (with his permission, of\ncourse) all Rupert's old letters", "Rupert waiting on the\n platform. He looked magnificent, towering over everybody there like\n a giant. He is in perfect health, and seemed glad to see me. He\n took me off at once on an automobile to a quay where an electric\n launch was waiting. This took us on board a beautiful big\n steam-yacht, which was waiting with full steam up and--how he got\n there I don't know--Rooke waiting at the gangway.\n\n I had another suite all to myself. Rupert and I had dinner", "\n together--I think the finest dinner I ever sat down to. This was\n very nice of Rupert, for it was all for me. He himself only ate a\n piece of steak and drank a glass of water. I went to bed early, for,\n despite the luxury of the journey, I was very tired.\n\n I awoke in the grey of the morning, and came on deck. We were close\n to the coast. Rupert was on the bridge with the Captain, and Rooke\n was acting as pilot. When Ru", " In the rooms for reading and\nwriting, which were the work-rooms for general use, were newspapers, the\nlatest attainable from all over the world, Blue-Books, guides,\ndirectories, and all such aids to work as forethought could arrange.\nThere was for this special service a body of some hundreds of capable\nservants in special dress and bearing identification numbers--in fact,\nKing Rupert \"did us fine,\" to use a slang phrase of pregnant meaning.\n\nThere were other camps for special service, all of them well arranged,\nand with plenty of", "your room and give him some\nbreakfast.\" Rupert stood very still for some seconds. His face had got\nred again after his paleness. Then he bowed to my father, and followed\nMrs. Martindale, who had moved to the door.\n\nNearly an hour afterwards my father sent a servant to tell him to come to\nthe study. My mother was there, too, and I had gone back with her. The\nman came back and said:\n\n\"Mrs. Martindale, sir, wishes to know, with her respectful service", "ar Rupert,\"\nas the mountaineers call him (Mr. Rupert Sent Leger) on the armoured\nyacht he calls _The Lady_. The National Council showed great pleasure\nwhen the Voivode entered the hall in which the Council met. He seemed\nmuch gratified by the reception given to him. Mr. Rupert Sent Leger, by\nthe express desire of the Council, was asked to be present at the\nmeeting. He took a seat at the bottom of the hall, and seemed to prefer\nto remain there, though asked by the President", "atories being close\ntogether in an isolated group in a little bay almost surrounded by high\ncliffs in the farthest recesses of the mighty harbour. King Rupert's\narmoured yacht all the time lay close inshore, hard by the mouth of the\nGreat Tunnel which runs straight into the mountain from a wide plateau,\npartly natural rock, partly built up with mighty blocks of stone. Here\nit is, I am told, that the inland products are brought down to the modern\ntown of Plazac. Just as the clocks", "and Rupert said very unkindly, and I\nthink very unfairly, that I was \"A sulky little beast.\" I haven't forgot\nthat, and I don't mean to. However, it doesn't matter much what he said\nor thought. There he is--if he is at all--where no one can find him,\nwith no money or nothing, for what little he had he settled when he came\nof age, on the MacSkelpie. He wanted to give it to her when his mother\ndied, but father, who was a trust", "! That is fine service. But how if any of them should die?\"\n\n\"Your Majesty, if one of them should die, there are ten thousand eager to\ntake his place.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine! It is good to have even one man eager to give his life for\nduty. But ten thousand! That is what makes a nation!\"\n\nWhen King Rupert reached the platform by the Flagstaff, the Royal\nStandard of the Blue Mountains was hauled up under it. Rupert stood up\nand raised his hand. In a second a can", "from the top of the Castle. Little Rupert was there--he\nis always awake early and as bright as a bee. I was holding him in my\narms, and when his mother leant over to kiss him good-bye, he held out\nhis arms to her in a way that said as plainly as if he had spoken, \"Take\nme with you.\"\n\nShe looked appealingly at Rupert, who nodded, and said: \"All right. Take\nhim, darling. He will have to learn some day, and the sooner the\nbetter.\" The", "\nand where did I see Rupert first?\" I did not know, and frankly told her\nso. So she answered her question herself:\n\n\"I saw him first in his own room at night.\" I knew in my heart that in\nwhatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her\nto go on:\n\n\"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that\nI fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am\nnow!\"\n\nOn the instant it", "to have been out day and night on his aeroplane,\ngoing through and round over the country arranging matters, and seeing\nfor himself that what has been arranged is being done. Uncle Colin is\nalways about, too, and so is Admiral Rooke. But now Teuta is beginning\nto go with Rupert. That girl is simply fearless--just like Rupert. And\nthey both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same. Indeed, he\nis the same. A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start\njust after dawn", "Rupert?\" When she looked up I saw\nthat her beautiful black eyes, with the stars in them, were overflowing\nwith tears not yet shed. But she smiled through them, and the tears did\nnot fall. When I saw her smile my heart was eased, and I said without\nthinking: \"Thank God, darling, Rupert is all right.\"\n\n\"I thank God, too, dear Aunt Janet!\" she said softly; and I took her in\nmy arms and laid her head on my breast.\n\n\"Go on, dear,\" I said; \"t", "made his own country great, would do much\nto restore the old friendship, and even to create a new one, which would\nin times of trouble bring British fleets to our waters, and British\nbayonets to support our own handjars. It is within my own knowledge,\nthough as yet unannounced to you, that Rupert Sent Leger has already\nobtained a patent, signed by the King of England himself, allowing him to\nbe denaturalized in England, so that he can at once apply for\nnaturalization here. I know also that he has", "on, my dear, and I am beginning\n to feel not so young as I was. Tell Rupert that the men are all fit,\n and longing to get out to him. They are certainly a fine lot of men.\n I don't think I ever saw a finer. I have had them drilled and\n trained as soldiers, and, in addition, have had them taught a lot of\n trades just as they selected themselves. So he shall have nigh him\n men who can turn their hands to anything--not, of course, that they", "should always have him, or the place in which he was, within their sight.\nThey all vowed that the last of their lives should go before harm came to\nhim. Of course, Teuta understood, and so did Rupert. And these young\nmen are the persons most privileged in the whole Castle. They are dear\nboys, every one of them, and we are all fond of them and respect them.\nThey simply idolize the baby.\n\nEver since that morning little Rupert has, unless it is at a time\nappointed for his sleeping, gone in his" ] ]

[ "Whose trust does Rupert try to win? ", "Who visits Rupert?", "Who kidnaps Teuta?", "Who is Voivode?", "What story spread upon Teuta's revival?", "Why did Teuta come out of the coffin?", "Who kills the kidnappers?", "Who pilots the plane?", "Who attacks the castle?", "How much is Rupert's uncle's estate worth?", "How does Rupert try to win over the mountaineers?", "What does Rupert think Teuta is?", "Who kidnaps Voivode?", "What is the condition for Rubert to get the one million pounds?", "What is the pale woman wearing when she visits Rupert?", "Where does Rupert find the pale woman when he goes to the church?", "Who is Teuta's father?", "Where is Voivode returning from?", "What happened to the crypt during the heavy rain?", "Why was Teuta declared dead?", "Why did Teuta sleep in a coffin?", "What was Rupert's relation to the Voivode?", "Why did the villagers want to be armed?", "Where is the Voivode taken when he is kidnapped?", "Why does the mysterious woman come to Rupert's castle?", "How is the Voivode rescued?", "Why did the local leaders and clergy say Teuta was a vampire?", "Why did Rupert buy things for the locals?" ]

[ [ "The mountaneer population.", "conservative mountaineer's " ], [ "Teuta", "Teuta" ], [ "Turkish Troops", "Turkish troops" ], [ "Parent of Teuta ", "Teuta's dad " ], [ "Story of vampires", "That she was a vampire." ], [ "It flooded", "She was seeking warmth in the castle." ], [ "Rupert's relief force", "Rupert Saint Leger" ], [ "Rupert", "Rupert" ], [ "Local troops", "local troops" ], [ "One million pounds.", "One million pounds" ], [ "By buying them arms.", "purchasing modern arms for them" ], [ "A vampire.", "He thinks she's undead" ], [ "By the Turks.", "Turks kidnaps Voivode" ], [ "He live in his uncles castle for a year.", "He has to live in his uncle's castle for a year" ], [ "A wet shroud.", "wet shroud" ], [ "A glass topped stone coffin.", "A glass topped stone coffin in the crypt." ], [ "Voivode.", "the local Voivode" ], [ "America.", "A visit to America" ], [ "It flooded.", "it flooded" ], [ "She had fallen into a trance.", "She had fallen into a trance." ], [ "To keep up the story for the locals that she was a vampire.", "To make people believe she is a vampire." ], [ "Rupert was the Voivode's son-in-law.", "son-in-law" ], [ "They expected an attack by the Turks soon.", "To fight the Turks" ], [ "To some castle ruins near the sea", "a nearby castle ruin" ], [ "Her crypt would flood, and she wanted to get dry.", "to escape the flooding crypt " ], [ "Rupert lowers Teuta down from the plane on a rope.", "Rupert lowers a rope from an airplane and pulls him out." ], [ "It was a more acceptable story than the truth that she'd never died.", "more acceptable to locals" ], [ "To gain their trust", "to win their trust" ] ]

[ [ "ured laborers, farmers exiled by \n economics or religious persecution, frontier hunters and \n trappers... working people.\n\n ONGEWASGONE\n (continues)\n Now Mohawk will fight Huron and Les \n Francais.\n\n My brothers have asked me to lead them in this war so I speak \n for the Twin River Council.\n\n The importance of this commitment is apparent to the \n lieutenant.\n\n LIEUTENANT\n His Maj", " down the frontier spreading terror \n among farms and Mohawk villages 'cos \n all the men are here.\n\n IAN (O.S.)\n And my cabin's not thirteen miles \n south of Cameron's!\n\n Cora, passing the open door to Munro's crowded office, now \n hesitates.\n\n CORA'S POV: THE ROOM\n\n Hawkeye, Captain Jack Winthrop, Ian, seven or eight other \n militia spokes", "they're beside \n him. Hawkeye's arm is around her shoulders.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n The frontier moves with the sun and \n pushes the red man of the wilderness \n forests in front of it. Until one \n day there will be nowhere left. \n Then our race will be no more, or be \n not us... The frontier place is for \n people like my white son and his \n woman and their children.\n\n ", "William \n Henry?\n\n HAWKEYE\n No.\n\n HEYWARD\n Fort Edward, then?\n\n HAWKEYE\n No. Headin' west. To Can-tuck-ee.\n\n HEYWARD\n I thought all our colonial scouts \n were in the militia?\n\n Off to the side, Uncas smiles at the idea.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I ain't your \"sc", "trapped out.\n\n JACK\n Tradin' your skins in Castleton?\n\n UNCAS\n No, Schylerville. With the Dutch for \n silver.\n\n French & English want to buy with wampum & brandy.\n\n Pause, then...\n\n HAWKEYE\n So what is it, Jack? What brings you \n up here?\n\n JACK\n A French & Indian army out of Fort \n Car", "illon's heading south to war \n against the English. I'm here to \n raise this county's militia to aid \n the British defense.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Folks here goin' to join in that \n fight?\n\n JACK\n We'll see in the morning...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n Fathers of England & France, both, \n take more land, furs, than they need. \n ", "\n\n HEYWARD\n (suddenly tired)\n Ambush... on the George Road. This \n Magua led us into it.\n (pause)\n ...eighteen killed. It's these men \n who saved us. They guided us here...\n\n MUNRO\n Thank you. How can I reward you?\n\n No answer. Then...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Help ourselves to a few horns from \n your powder stores", "\n the head waters of the Ohio.\n (smiles)\n Now you're sayin' these people have \n a fight on their hands...\n\n LIEUTENANT\n (ignoring Hawkeye)\n Will you men help us stop the French?\n\n HAWKEYE\n ... and while they are cooped up in \n your fort, what if the French send \n war parties to raid their homes?\n\n IAN\n What then", "They're cold & full of greed...\n\n JACK\n Few'd deny that? Where you headin'?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Trap over the fall and winter among \n the Delawares in Can-tuck-ee.\n\n UNCAS\n So I can find a woman and make Mohican \n children so our father will leave my \n brother & me in peace.\n\n Alexandria laughs. So do Hawkeye & Chingachg", " CORA\n Yes.\n\n They hold each other's eyes. She searches his face.\n\n CORA\n Where will we go?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Winter with the Delaware, my father's \n cousins. And in the spring, cross \n the Ohio and look for land to settle \n with my father in a new place called \n Can-tuck-ee.\n\n They move next to Chingachgook. He senses", "I am stayin' on my farm. And any man \n who goes, his family is welcome to \n fort-up with us 'til he comes back.\n\n JACK\n Boys. My sense of it is enough of us \n will join-up to fill the county's \n levy. But only if General Webb accepts \n a few terms I got in mind...\n\n HAWKEYE & UNCAS\n cross through the people. A few men \n drift", "stepping in the stream bed instead \n of on stones. The others follow. Hawkeye looks at Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n conforms. He's ill at ease not being in command, following \n the lead of some half-Indian frontiersman through a foreign \n wilderness.\n\n HEYWARD\n How far is it, scout?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Day and a half\n (pause)\n Where did you get... the guide?\n", "are frozen, \n as terrified of the savages and apparent half-breed rescuers \n as they were of those who attacked them.\n\n ALICE\n\n Cora, holding her, is stunned but functioning. Moments ago \n both women were clean and demure. Now their riding dresses \n are torn, mud-stained, blood-spattered and their baggage is \n gone.\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n crossed to his slaughtered soldiers. Moments ago they were a \n testament to", "\n Narragansetts. The tight traveling dress reveals that Cora, \n two or three years older than Alice, is fuller and more \n mature. All three ride to the front of the column. The baggage \n horses and mule are in the gap between the two companies.\n\n MAGUA\n\n cradling his musket.\n\n REAR SHOT: THE COLUMN\n\n down the path that leads into the wall of forest looks \n impressive.\n\n WIDER: THE COLUMN\n\n march", "us come Chingachgook, \n followed by Hawkeye and Uncas. Even relaxed, they carry \n themselves with a degree of alertness. They're eighteenth \n century Viet Cong moving through the rain forest. The Maxfield \n Parrish/Hudson Valley of tall trees, ravines and streams is \n idyllic in front of them. All three cradle their long guns \n and move silently on moccasined feet.\n\n FRONTAL: CHINGACHGOOK\n\n in a stream - relaxed", "as they back up.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n smashing his war club straight down on a Huron, reaches for \n the man's musket and shoots another. Then he sees...\n\n SMOKE DRIFTING OVER WATER\n\n It's glass-smooth. And the bows are barely visible of three \n or four Huron war canoes.\n\n THE SHALLOWS\n\n HAWKEYE, CHINGACHGOOK, UNCAS, CORA, ALICE, THE R", "in their farms!\n\n MUNRO\n (exploding)\n You forget yourself!\n\n JACK\n We are not forgettin' Webb's promise!\n\n MUNRO\n British promises are honored. And \n the militia will not be released. \n Because I need more definite proof \n than this man's word!\n\n JACK\n Nathaniel's word been good on the \n frontier a long", " HAWKEYE\n That's my father's sadness talking.\n\n Hawkeye puts a hand on his shoulder.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n No. It is true... One day... there \n will be no more frontier. Then men \n like you will go, too. Like the \n Mohicans.\n (pause)\n And new people will come. Work. \n Struggle to make their light... One \n mystery remains.\n", "olutely.\n\n Heyward rides to the front of the column to Magua, who's \n twenty to thirty yards ahead of everybody else.\n\n HEYWARD\n You there, Scout!\n\n Magua slowly turns towards Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n (overly articulated)\n We must... stop... soon. Women are... \n tired. You... understand?\n\n MAGUA\n (perfect English)\n I understand. This", "oe? So?\n\n HAWKEYE\n It was a war party. It means they're \n on the attack up and down the \n frontier.\n\n Munro turns to look at him for a long beat. Munro doesn't \n like what his response must be to this news. He turns to \n Heyward and the map.\n\n MUNRO\n (cold)\n Thank you.\n\n Hawkeye's dismissed, frozen out.\n\n " ], [ "three across \n and three deep.\n\n MILITARY HQ, ENTRANCE\n\n MAJOR DUNCAN HEYWARD\n\n Steps out. Rigid salutes.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n climbs onto his white military charger. It's spirited. Cora \n & Alice are in riding dresses and veils. The veil doesn't \n completely cover Alice's golden hair and blue eyes and the \n flush of her complexion. They're riding two sidesaddled ", "\n Narragansetts. The tight traveling dress reveals that Cora, \n two or three years older than Alice, is fuller and more \n mature. All three ride to the front of the column. The baggage \n horses and mule are in the gap between the two companies.\n\n MAGUA\n\n cradling his musket.\n\n REAR SHOT: THE COLUMN\n\n down the path that leads into the wall of forest looks \n impressive.\n\n WIDER: THE COLUMN\n\n march", "Heyward does not look at him.\n\n FRONT OF COLUMN - CORA WITH ALICE\n\n on the back of a mare. Alice, living through a wide-awake \n nightmare, is huddled under the arm of her sister. They ride \n behind the standard bearers. In the B.G. her father is seen \n approaching and takes his position at their side. Cora looks \n down the column, sheilding her eyes against the sun. We know \n who she's looking for... Hawkeye.\n\n", " HAWKEYE\n Dropped in to see how you boys is \n doin'.\n\n COLONEL MUNRO\n\n running from his quarters is shocked to see them.\n\n ALICE\n (hysterical)\n Papa, Papa!!\n\n MUNRO\n (enraged)\n Why are you here?!\n\n Cora is stunned. Alice is decimated by her father's anger. \n Munro sees and whips off his coat to cover them", "daughters \n are here, too.\n\n Beams raises his torch, sees the muddied, soaked women. He \n is shocked that they traveled with Heyward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FORT WILLIAM HENRY, PARADE GROUND - NIGHT\n\n GROUP\n\n Emerges from a sally-port tunnel. It's smokey. NOISE is \n deafening. The group has traveled through a nightmare, only \n to", "are frozen, \n as terrified of the savages and apparent half-breed rescuers \n as they were of those who attacked them.\n\n ALICE\n\n Cora, holding her, is stunned but functioning. Moments ago \n both women were clean and demure. Now their riding dresses \n are torn, mud-stained, blood-spattered and their baggage is \n gone.\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n crossed to his slaughtered soldiers. Moments ago they were a \n testament to", " to him. Munro holds her tighter. Then he whispers something \n to her. She nods her head. And Cora takes her.\n\n They exit.\n\n MUNRO\n\n is moved beyond words by his daughters' presence. There's a \n break, a pause...\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward over table \n map)\n What a place for them...\n\n HEYWARD\n Might I enquire after the situation, \n sir", ".\n\n She's still unsettled.\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Duncan!\n\n REVERSE: ALICE MUNRO\n\n eighteen years old, white-blonde hair, wide blue eyes. She's \n effervescent and runs to hug him. Heyward is taken aback by \n her enthusiasm and laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n My God, you've grown up.\n\n ALICE\n We leave in the morning?!\n\n", "\n not. If they do not arrive, the \n fort will fall. If that happens, \n stay close to your father. The French \n will protect the officer class among \n the English.\n\n CORA\n No. I will find you.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Do not.\n (pause)\n Promise me.\n\n Cora drops her forehead to Hawkeye's hands wrapped around \n the bars. She acquiesces,", "\n PHELPS' face lights up when he sees Cora Munro.\n\n PHELPS\n Miss Cora! How are you?\n\n CORA\n (smiles)\n Fine, Mr. Phelps. Have you cat gut \n and a suturing needle?\n (for Uncas)\n And we could use some rum, clothes, \n and a place to wash...\n\n Cora tries to remove Alice from her father, but she clings \n", " ALICE\n Nonsense. Papa wouldn't have sent \n for us if it were dangerous.\n\n Alice takes Hewyward's hand. Cora pours Heyward more tea. \n The white sheets billow.\n\n AMBROSE\n (O.S. - barks)\n Atten-shun!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BRITISH ARMY HQ - DAY\n\n TWENTY BRITISH REGULAR", ". An adjutant \n comes and goes.\n\n Heyward and Munro are sensitive to appearances in front of \n the adjutant. Cora couldn't give a damn.\n\n MUNRO\n The man encouraged the colonials to \n desert in this very room, in my \n presence. He is guilty of sedition \n and must be tried and hanged like \n any other criminal, regardless of \n what he did for my children.\n\n CORA\n", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "I inquire if General \n Webb has heard from Colonel Munro's \n daughters? I was to rendezvous with \n them in Albany and escort them to \n the fort.\n\n WEBB\n Yes. You may.\n (to Magua, after a \n glance at Heyward)\n You there. What does Munro call you?\n (to Heyward)\n The \"Scotsman\" has sent one of his \n Indian allies to", "a steep forested slope in the heart of the \n Adirondacks.\n\n CORA\n Much further?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Top of this ridge. Fort and Lake \n George are downhill of it.\n\n ALICE\n\n Re-energized, her spirits pick up.\n\n ALICE\n Will we be able to bathe?\n\n Before Cora can answer they hear a deep, rolling roar. Alice \n is alarmed.\n\n", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their", "these next words into her brain.\n\n CORA\n What is it?\n\n HAWKEYE\n I don't know. Whatever happens you \n stay with your father. You stay among \n the officers.\n\n Cora looks up at Hawkeye. We feel forboding. O.S. are heard \n drums...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FRENCH LINES - DAY\n\n MUNRO, HEYWAR", "recess of her mind.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing; dissolves \n back to French)\n ... and Yengeese officer not go to \n Les Francais, but back to Yengeese \n so their hatred burns less bright. \n La Longue Carabine, go in peace.\n\n People move, start to implement the sentence. Hawkeye's \n panicked. Cora is jerked upright. She looks at Hawkeye in \n terror: Sache", ", war clubs and point-blank musket fire.\n\n ALICE\n\n on the ground, screaming insanely, covered by Cora who's \n protecting her little sister, and...\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n horse shot from beneath him, the animal folding, falling \n straight to the earth, and...\n\n MAGUA\n\n shoots Ambrose in the chest, and...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n by the Munro daughters spins, swinging his fusil like a ball-\n bat", "her and nods.\n\n CORA\n (stiffly)\n You were acting for our benefit. And \n I apologize. I misunderstood you.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Well that is to be expected. My \n father...\n\n CORA\n Your \"father\"?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Chingachgook. He warned me about \n people like you.\n\n CORA\n He" ], [ " HEYWARD\n I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...\n\n CORA\n\n Her nerves are shattered. She's trying to be brave.\n\n There's a lot going on under Cora's surface. We don't know \n what it is, but it's disconcerting.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora, I adore you and, when we come \n together, we will be the happiest \n couple in England... I am", ", thinking of it in Boston and \n London...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Sorry to disappoint you...\n\n CORA\n (eyes downcast)\n On the contrary. It is more deeply \n stirring... to my blood...\n (then up into his \n eyes)\n ...than any imagining could possibly \n have been...\n\n She closes her eyes, turns slightly and prepares to sleep. \n Hawkeye is the one", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "a new wind blowing through a new land, a new self-\n determination... She's drawn to this rough yet graceful man \n with his direct manner. Hawkeye settles against a wall. She \n leans next to him.\n\n Their shoulders touch.\n\n CORA\n\n To her everything about him seems to be somehow right. She's \n discovered that the passions and outrage that move him, move \n her... And her readiness to give herself to what stirs the \n deepest resonances of her soul is", " CORA (O.S.)\n Heyward! Duncan Heyward.\n\n Heyward looks to the side. An inner light turns on. In this \n mode, this is a man we could like.\n\n REVERSE: CORA MUNRO\n\n enters from the garden. She's vivacious, dark-haired, \n unconventional in that she's educated, but with conventional \n values and attitudes. She hugs Duncan to her and then pushes \n him away to look at him.\n\n", " HEYWARD\n My God it's good to see you.\n\n He takes her hand in both of his and kisses it. He is open \n and lit up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. POLTROON'S HOUSE, BACK YARD - DAY\n\n CORA & HEYWARD\n\n A vegetable plot behind the Poltroon's house is a provincial \n substitute for a formal garden setting. Heyward and Cora sit \n", "lives \"by \n your leave.\" ...They hack it out of \n the wilderness with their own two \n hands, burying their dead and their \n children along the way.\n\n HEYWARD\n (distant)\n You are defending him because you've \n become infatuated with him.\n\n Cora is having her intelligence written off as a hormone \n attack. She contains her fury.\n\n CORA\n Duncan, you", "\n CORA\n Some say that's the way of it.\n\n HEYWARD\n \"Some\"?\n\n CORA\n Cousin Eugenie, my father, but...\n\n HEYWARD\n (interrupts)\n Cora, in my heart, I know once we're \n joined, we'll be the happiest couple \n in England. Let those whom you trust, \n your father, help settle what'", "\n\n CORA\n Say nothing to Alice...!\n\n Hawkeye nods.\n\n ALICE\n\n stands in the chamber not far from the wall of water, \n fascinated with its shimmer. She's oblivious to all the events \n and everything going on around her...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n sees Cora & Hawkeye together and turns away.\n\n GROUP\n\n Uncas watches Alice. The wounded Ranger has fallen asleep. \n The Redcoat is", " Cora's pale smile.\n\n CORA\n They're going to hang you.\n (pause; soft)\n Why didn't you leave when you had \n the chance?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Because what I am interested in is \n right here...\n\n CORA\n What would you have me do?\n\n He touches her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Webb's reinforcements will arrive or ", "\n And by sea!\n\n CORA\n You still have an aversion to the \n water?\n\n HEYWARD\n Aversion? No... \"Hatred\"... \n \"Loathing\"...\n\n Cora laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n But it was worth it all to end in a \n garden by your side.\n\n She looks askance at him. Then the banter drops.\n\n COR", "the same as his.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n looks at her. She's beautiful in the firelight. Cora's eyes \n find his and she folds into his arms. His lips find hers and \n tears stream down her face. She's suffused with an elation \n she can't explain. In the night before doomsday a romance is \n born in rebellion amid the huddled people in this small \n stockade ripped from the black earth of the forests of a \n wild continent.\n\n ", "\n Heyward' shattered inside.\n\n HEYWARD\n I see...\n\n CORA\n I am sorry, Duncan...\n\n Heyward nods. He's speechless. He's errect as he leaves the \n room.\n\n CLOSE: CORA\n\n The tension rushes out of her and she shudders and leans \n against the quarter-timbered walls for support. Then she \n collects the linen and starts out.\n\n", "E\n (to Cora)\n In this there is a chance. If I live, \n I can try to free you. If we don't \n go, there is no powder, there's too \n many of them. Though my heart would \n keep me here, in that there is no \n chance. None. I can do nothing. Do \n you understand?\n\n CORA\n Yes. I want you to go.\n\n HEYWAR", " on rough wooden chairs. Wind blows. In the background a \n servant hangs laundry. The white sheets billow. A table holds \n a tea setting. They're sitting close to each other, talking \n seriously and quietly. Duncan's jacket is removed. Time's \n passed. Long pause. Then:\n\n CORA\n I'm embarrassed to be so indecisive... \n after so long apart and after you've \n traveled so far...\n\n HEYWARD", ". She moves next to Hawkeye. He takes \n her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE & CORA\n\n HAWKEYE\n Will you go back to England?\n\n CORA\n I have nothing to go back for.\n\n Long pause.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Then will you stay in America?\n\n She turns to face him.\n\n HAWKEYE\n And will you be my wife?\n\n Pause.\n\n ", "Heyward does not look at him.\n\n FRONT OF COLUMN - CORA WITH ALICE\n\n on the back of a mare. Alice, living through a wide-awake \n nightmare, is huddled under the arm of her sister. They ride \n behind the standard bearers. In the B.G. her father is seen \n approaching and takes his position at their side. Cora looks \n down the column, sheilding her eyes against the sun. We know \n who she's looking for... Hawkeye.\n\n", "the shadows, leaning against the wall, searching... we \n sense she's been looking for him. He comes up to her. She \n turns in surprise.\n\n CLOSER\n\n Somehow she breathes easier because he's there. She's in a \n white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Hawkeye leads her \n away from some of the people.\n\n CORA & HAWKEYE\n\n Hawkeye takes Cora's hand. Cora is awakening to a new spirit, \n ", " CORA\n Yes.\n\n They hold each other's eyes. She searches his face.\n\n CORA\n Where will we go?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Winter with the Delaware, my father's \n cousins. And in the spring, cross \n the Ohio and look for land to settle \n with my father in a new place called \n Can-tuck-ee.\n\n They move next to Chingachgook. He senses", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go" ], [ " Her body shudders. Her terror's total. He tries to restrain \n and calm her. She won't let him. Then her mouth seeks his \n and in the passion of despair and fear and wanting life, she \n holds him between her thighs. And Uncas is confused, but \n Alice whispers his name and he responds. He loves her in the \n half-light.\n\n UNCAS\n\n his hand buried in her hair irradiated by the moon, then she \n seems to reach some emotional clim", "a new wind blowing through a new land, a new self-\n determination... She's drawn to this rough yet graceful man \n with his direct manner. Hawkeye settles against a wall. She \n leans next to him.\n\n Their shoulders touch.\n\n CORA\n\n To her everything about him seems to be somehow right. She's \n discovered that the passions and outrage that move him, move \n her... And her readiness to give herself to what stirs the \n deepest resonances of her soul is", "ax and begins to cry softly, \n and Uncas stops making love to her and holds her. Then she's \n flooded with shame. He reaches for her. She jerks away. He \n reaches for her again and clutches her to him. And she breaks \n down. Then he turns her face to him, but her expression has \n completely flattened.\n\n WIDER ANGLE\n\n She's not a lover to Uncas now. She's pitiful & stricken and \n he comforts her.", "the same as his.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n looks at her. She's beautiful in the firelight. Cora's eyes \n find his and she folds into his arms. His lips find hers and \n tears stream down her face. She's suffused with an elation \n she can't explain. In the night before doomsday a romance is \n born in rebellion amid the huddled people in this small \n stockade ripped from the black earth of the forests of a \n wild continent.\n\n ", ", thinking of it in Boston and \n London...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Sorry to disappoint you...\n\n CORA\n (eyes downcast)\n On the contrary. It is more deeply \n stirring... to my blood...\n (then up into his \n eyes)\n ...than any imagining could possibly \n have been...\n\n She closes her eyes, turns slightly and prepares to sleep. \n Hawkeye is the one", " HEYWARD\n My God it's good to see you.\n\n He takes her hand in both of his and kisses it. He is open \n and lit up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. POLTROON'S HOUSE, BACK YARD - DAY\n\n CORA & HEYWARD\n\n A vegetable plot behind the Poltroon's house is a provincial \n substitute for a formal garden setting. Heyward and Cora sit \n", "the shadows, leaning against the wall, searching... we \n sense she's been looking for him. He comes up to her. She \n turns in surprise.\n\n CLOSER\n\n Somehow she breathes easier because he's there. She's in a \n white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Hawkeye leads her \n away from some of the people.\n\n CORA & HAWKEYE\n\n Hawkeye takes Cora's hand. Cora is awakening to a new spirit, \n ", "\n Ranger whispers something inaudible. The Ottawa chief shakes \n his head, \"Non. Pas possible...\"\n\n And means it. They retreat.\n\n SEPERATE SHOTS: HAWKEYE, UNCAS, CHINGACHGOOK, CORA\n\n tensely monitor the Ottawa retreat.\n\n UNCAS & ALICE\n\n He slowly removes his hand from her mouth. She's a little \n shy, then she looks up, catches his eyes. Then she averts \n her", "nods. Then HEAVY SHELLING commences. \n Cora & Hawkeye look up. Mortar bombs begin striking the \n fortress. Still dark. The final French bombardment has \n started.\n\n CORA\n The whole world's on fire, isn't it?\n\n A pause.\n\n HAWKEYE\n This part of it sure is...\n\n Reaching through the bars set in the thick door, their hands \n clasp each others. On that", "\n His countenance gives way momentarily. All his experience \n seems of no avail. He touches the side of Cora's face. Grabs \n Killdeer and follows Chingachgook.\n\n ALICE\n\n sensing new danger, slips away on her own.\n\n CORA\n\n crosses to the Ranger who's semi-conscious, feverish and \n getting delirious. She can't do a thing except hold his hand \n and think of her father.\n\n ", " on rough wooden chairs. Wind blows. In the background a \n servant hangs laundry. The white sheets billow. A table holds \n a tea setting. They're sitting close to each other, talking \n seriously and quietly. Duncan's jacket is removed. Time's \n passed. Long pause. Then:\n\n CORA\n I'm embarrassed to be so indecisive... \n after so long apart and after you've \n traveled so far...\n\n HEYWARD", "his back. He says something in \n Mohican. Uncas spins looks at Alice: her expression's vacant.\n\n HAWKEYE'S KNIFE\n\n cuts a lock of Cora's hair. He folds it into his shirt. The \n orange light from Huron torches, now closer, plays on the \n wall behind her. We hear many Huron approach.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n now run out of the cave and throw themselves into the curtain \n of water", "her \n shoulders and whispers to her. We don't hear what he says. \n Cora drops to her knees and places her hands over her eyes \n and face like a little girl trying to make something bad go \n away.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n Leads her to a depression, his arm around her shoulders, her \n face covered and she cries softly into his shoulder.\n\n EXTREME CLOSE UP: CORA\n\n says into Hawkeye's ear, after she looks O.S....", "\n Languorously, she lies back, closes her eyes and lays a hand \n on his shoulder, palm up, as if he were a prince in a romantic \n fantasy. Uncas tries to restrain her.\n\n ALICE'S\n\n eyes slowly open. Oblivion disappears. It's replaced with \n escalating fear. She holds onto Uncas with desperation. Her \n fingers claw his shoulders. She buries her face in his chest.\n\n ALICE\n Uncas...\n\n", "& smokes a clay pipe. The scene says: this is a rustic, \n frontier home and these people have known each other & live \n in dangerous circumstances.\n\n ALEXANDRIA\n If Uncas is with you, that means he \n has not found a woman and started a \n family yet.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n Your eyes are too sharp, Alexandria \n Cameron.\n\n They see into my heart.\n\n UNCAS\n ", " HEYWARD\n I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...\n\n CORA\n\n Her nerves are shattered. She's trying to be brave.\n\n There's a lot going on under Cora's surface. We don't know \n what it is, but it's disconcerting.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora, I adore you and, when we come \n together, we will be the happiest \n couple in England... I am", "\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n throws Heyward a blanket. Heyward spreads the blanket below \n the top of the mound and - maintaining silence - he gestures \n for Cora & Alice to rest there.\n\n ALICE'S HEAD\n\n hits the blanket. She curls into a fetal position and she's \n out. Heyward is nearby on watch.\n\n Hawkeye has taken a position two-thirds of the way around \n the crescent shaped mound.\n\n Cora has sought", "\n And by sea!\n\n CORA\n You still have an aversion to the \n water?\n\n HEYWARD\n Aversion? No... \"Hatred\"... \n \"Loathing\"...\n\n Cora laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n But it was worth it all to end in a \n garden by your side.\n\n She looks askance at him. Then the banter drops.\n\n COR", "three across \n and three deep.\n\n MILITARY HQ, ENTRANCE\n\n MAJOR DUNCAN HEYWARD\n\n Steps out. Rigid salutes.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n climbs onto his white military charger. It's spirited. Cora \n & Alice are in riding dresses and veils. The veil doesn't \n completely cover Alice's golden hair and blue eyes and the \n flush of her complexion. They're riding two sidesaddled ", "In Mohican, Chingachgook decides some things. \n Hawkeye and Uncas nod. Heyward approaches Hawkeye.\n\n HEYWARD\n Any powder?\n\n HAWKEYE:\n (crossing to Cora)\n Only one or two loads.\n\n CORA\n\n is soaked to the bones. Hawkeye strips off his buckskin \n hunting shirt and wrings it out.\n\n Cora turns her back, strips off her white blouse and" ], [ "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", ".\n\n OVER MAGUA'S SHOULDER:\n\n MUNRO\n\n his lower body is trapped under his dead horse. Magua leans \n in towards him.\n\n MAGUA\n Grey Hair. I will cut your heart \n from your living chest in front of \n your eyes. As you die, know that I \n will put under the knife your children \n and wipe your seed from this earth \n forever...\n\n Magua pulls his knife and", " MAGUA\n (laughs; sardonic)\n Magua slept hard in the English \n wigwams. And the sticks left their \n mark...\n (pause; for real)\n Magua's village and lodges were burnt. \n Magua's children were killed by the \n English. Magua was taken as a slave \n by the Mohawks who fought for the \n Grey Hair. Magua's wife believed he ", "Uncas' right arm is useless. He scrambles \n up. Next to the expertise of a mature warrior like Magua, \n Uncas' raw, young determination may not be enough.\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Freezes.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n UNCAS\n\n closing, swings. Magua moves inside, stabs Uncas twice, turns \n him to face the edge, ripping his head left to expose the", "slows...\n\n COMBATANTS\n\n Magua - confident, pumped up - feints with his left, his \n tomahawk appearing in his right, sweeping backhand, while \n his left, magically holding his blade, is jamming up to gut \n Chingachgook. Chingachgook's dead. Except...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n isn't there. He rolled and, on one knee with his back to \n Magua, his arm slams rearward.\n", "ro \n girl to kill?\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n sees. Killdeer's at his shoulder...\n\n TIME SLOWS: MAGUA\n\n senses Hawkeye. Moving through liquid, his eyes drift left. \n The moment is frozen.\n\n Their eyes lock, each to the other's. Then...\n\n TIME UNFREEZES\n\n Magua swings at Hawkeye and FIRES...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n shifts. The .65 caliber musket ball", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "and half his chest are splashed red with blood.\n\n LONG SHOT: MAGUA\n\n seen from far away, holding aloft the heart of Munro.\n\n REVERSE: HAWKEYE\n\n saw him and fights his way to attack when...\n\n WHITE HORSE\n\n crazed, CRASHES through men, knocking Hawkeye over...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n protecting Hawkeye, slams his war club into one Huron, \n breaking his attack, his arm and", "their useless muskets as clubs or with fixed bayonets - \n as the smoke and fog swirls among the men - fighting for \n their lives...\n\n MAGUA\n\n glides through the scenes, striking and hunting. Some of his \n coterie of braves near him.\n\n He sees...\n\n BLONDE WOMAN\n\n hugging the ground in fear. Magua throws her over. It's not \n Alice Munro. It's a woman protecting her baby. Magua walks \n on", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", "chest.\n\n ANOTHER BLOW\n\n destroys Magua's collar and shoulder.\n\n MAGUA\n\n amazed. His body is broken and crippled, but he still stands. \n He looks into the eyes of the last warrior of the Mohicans.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n UNCAS!!!\n\n And he spins and swings. The blade side of the war club \n punches into Magua's chest, caving him in two.\n\n WIDE\n\n Mag", "on. It's \n incredibly fast.\n\n UNCAS'\n\n three tomahawk swings are dodged by Magua whose own knife \n streaks like silver flashes. Uncas, gashed on arms and chest, \n feints right and slams Magua with an open hand, closes and \n the men are intertwined steel and muscle... and Magua throws \n Uncas.\n\n Going with him and rolling off Uncas, Magua's knife flashes \n into his armpit.", "irrelevance. He slams one aside with \n his musket.\n\n HAWKEYE FIRES.\n\n HURON\n\n with tomahawk, about to blindside Chingachgook, is SHOT DOWN.\n\n MAGUA\n\n charging Chingachgook.\n\n VERY WIDE\n\n Two men, like dots, race to collide at the center of the \n promontory. Now the others fall back... It's one-on-one. \n Hawkeye", "\n WIDE ANGLE\n\n Two's musket coming up. Uncas swings. FIRES. Before he's \n fallen, Uncas bayonets Three.\n\n FOURTH\n\n FIRES, misses, swings. Uncas slips the swung musket, but it \n catches his elbow. Uncas' musket falls. Before it hits the \n ground his tomahawk is out and hacks Four over the edge...\n\n MAGUA\n\n running forward past Five, confronts Uncas head", "\n Magua abruptly leaves Montcalm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. WOODS - NIGHT\n\n MAGUA \n\n Walking back to the Huron camp. Reveal a Huron sub-chief has \n been in the woods, waiting for Magua. Now he joins him. They \n walk in silence. Then...\n\n MAGUA\n (in Iroquois; re: \n Montcalm)\n I wonder at the", " Heart. Give Magua new heart.\n\n Magua totally disdains the Englishman and walks away from \n him, starting up a steeper forested hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - TWILIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE, UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Running cross-country after the Huron column. They leap over \n fallen logs and keep going.\n\n FRONTAL: HAWKEYE\n\n breathing hard, his lips are", "- children of \n the white war chief - will burn in \n our fires so all can share in this.\n\n The sachem considers this. Then he looks up and sees something \n beyond Magua.\n\n MAGUA\n\n senses the sachem's eye line...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n unarmed, walking through the Hurons. A young boy rushes at \n him. Hawkeye, at the last possible second, dodges. Others \n catch and restrain the boy. The Hur", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "Huron warrior by a \n woven rawhide thong tied to her neck.\n\n MAGUA\n\n is imperturbable.\n\n HURONS\n\n move quickly down into a ravine.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is shoved forward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n RUNNING FEET\n\n Long, loping strides.\n\n HAWKEYE & UNCAS\n\n cover ground like long-distance" ], [ "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", ".\n\n Magua starts towards Hawkeye, his tomahawk slipping into his \n hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Sachem)\n I come to you unarmed and in peace \n to unstop your ears, wise one. Because \n the Hurons are mislead by the words \n of the wolf who's never spoken the \n truth.\n\n Sachem gestures with his hand to Magua. Magua reluctantly \n stops advancing", " CUT TO:\n\f\n\n EXT. HURON VILLAGE - DAY\n\n MAGUA \n\n MAGUA\n ... the earth was pale. Our tomahawks \n were bright. Now they are dull from \n war. And the Huron rich with the \n trophies of honor... Magua will sell \n the English officer to Les Francais \n and the reward is my gift to you, \n wise one... The women", "olutely.\n\n Heyward rides to the front of the column to Magua, who's \n twenty to thirty yards ahead of everybody else.\n\n HEYWARD\n You there, Scout!\n\n Magua slowly turns towards Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n (overly articulated)\n We must... stop... soon. Women are... \n tired. You... understand?\n\n MAGUA\n (perfect English)\n I understand. This", "- children of \n the white war chief - will burn in \n our fires so all can share in this.\n\n The sachem considers this. Then he looks up and sees something \n beyond Magua.\n\n MAGUA\n\n senses the sachem's eye line...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n unarmed, walking through the Hurons. A young boy rushes at \n him. Hawkeye, at the last possible second, dodges. Others \n catch and restrain the boy. The Hur", "Magua's \n heart is twisted. He would make \n himself into what twisted him. A \n Dog, become Master of Dogs. But are \n Hurons dogs? ...Magua's way is false. \n It is like the white sickness. Magua's \n way will bring only sadness and shame. \n Is there another way? I don't know.\n (pauses)\n I am Nathaniel of the Yengeese; \n Hawkey", "ieves... I \n spit on you!\n\n Those Hurons who hear, do so in deadly, boding silence. Magua \n and his fourteen hard core braves start out as...\n\n SACHEM\n\n heard Heyward's translation. He looks at Heyward, then looks \n at Hawkeye and he nods his head.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n sees this. His eyes go to Cora. They've stopped dragging her \n towards the fire pit.\n\n Hawkeye steps forward", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", " believes he fooled Magua because he \n is so proud of his cleverness, he is \n blind. But it is the Huron path that \n Magua walks down, not the French \n one... Now, Les Francais, also, fear \n Huron. That is good. When the Huron \n is strong from their fear, we will \n make the terms of trade with Les \n Francais. And we will trade as the \n white man trades. Take land from", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "women. When his women want \n to eat, he lay aside his tomahawk to \n feed their laziness.\"\n\n HEYWARD\n Excuse me. What did you say?\n\n MAGUA\n Magua say: \"Yes. Good idea.\"\n\n As they begin to stop...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. MOUNTAINS & FOREST - DAY\n\n WIDE\n\n Silently entering on either side of", " MAGUA\n (laughs; sardonic)\n Magua slept hard in the English \n wigwams. And the sticks left their \n mark...\n (pause; for real)\n Magua's village and lodges were burnt. \n Magua's children were killed by the \n English. Magua was taken as a slave \n by the Mohawks who fought for the \n Grey Hair. Magua's wife believed he ", "\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n HURONS \n\n Move along animal paths.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n struggle through the branches of trees. No one helps them. \n When they fall behind, they are pushed forward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n badly beaten, bound, staggers ahead to get behind Maqua. \n Then:\n\n HEYWARD\n If Magua give women to Yengeese ", "\n\n ORNATE CHAIR \n\n on a rude platform. The entire village is crowded in a large \n circle. They all wait for someone. They've been waiting a \n long time. In the perimeter warriors keep Huron at bay for \n some reason. We see Magua. He stands apart. They wait. Then...\n\n ANCIENT SACHEM\n\n is led to the dais by three women down the main street between \n the neat rows of birch bark lodges. Many scalps and trophies ", "war. The Huron do not fear English \n anger.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Sachem)\n Wise one, the French fathers made \n peace and swore to their honor not \n to break the friendship. Magua broke \n it. It is false that the French would \n not be friends, still, to the Huron.\n\n Sachem reacts.\n\n MAGUA\n (laughs)\n It made our", "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", "Huron warrior by a \n woven rawhide thong tied to her neck.\n\n MAGUA\n\n is imperturbable.\n\n HURONS\n\n move quickly down into a ravine.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is shoved forward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n RUNNING FEET\n\n Long, loping strides.\n\n HAWKEYE & UNCAS\n\n cover ground like long-distance", " Heart. Give Magua new heart.\n\n Magua totally disdains the Englishman and walks away from \n him, starting up a steeper forested hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - TWILIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE, UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Running cross-country after the Huron column. They leap over \n fallen logs and keep going.\n\n FRONTAL: HAWKEYE\n\n breathing hard, his lips are", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "oms over him.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Yengeese no good in woods. Make more \n noise, I kill him.\n\n Heyward spins. Hawkeye coolly watches Cora. Her attitude is \n hostile; aligned with Heyward. He turns away. Meanwhile...\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops, alarmed. Something in the air bothers him. Hawkeye \n smells it, too.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n is" ], [ "\n Will the Sachem's judgment be honored? Will some warriors \n hack down Hawkeye & Cora? As they go...\n\n CORA\n\n moves towards her sister. But Hawkeye holds her tightly as \n they retreat.\n\n CORA'S POV: ALICE\n\n with Magua's group crosses the path. He drags Alice behind \n him like baggage. She regains her feet. Magua is oblivious \n to her. He's heading towards the plateau", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "recess of her mind.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing; dissolves \n back to French)\n ... and Yengeese officer not go to \n Les Francais, but back to Yengeese \n so their hatred burns less bright. \n La Longue Carabine, go in peace.\n\n People move, start to implement the sentence. Hawkeye's \n panicked. Cora is jerked upright. She looks at Hawkeye in \n terror: Sache", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "\n\n CORA\n Say nothing to Alice...!\n\n Hawkeye nods.\n\n ALICE\n\n stands in the chamber not far from the wall of water, \n fascinated with its shimmer. She's oblivious to all the events \n and everything going on around her...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n sees Cora & Hawkeye together and turns away.\n\n GROUP\n\n Uncas watches Alice. The wounded Ranger has fallen asleep. \n The Redcoat is", "ieves... I \n spit on you!\n\n Those Hurons who hear, do so in deadly, boding silence. Magua \n and his fourteen hard core braves start out as...\n\n SACHEM\n\n heard Heyward's translation. He looks at Heyward, then looks \n at Hawkeye and he nods his head.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n sees this. His eyes go to Cora. They've stopped dragging her \n towards the fire pit.\n\n Hawkeye steps forward", " CORA\n Yes.\n\n They hold each other's eyes. She searches his face.\n\n CORA\n Where will we go?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Winter with the Delaware, my father's \n cousins. And in the spring, cross \n the Ohio and look for land to settle \n with my father in a new place called \n Can-tuck-ee.\n\n They move next to Chingachgook. He senses", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", "WKEYE\n\n exchanges a desperate look with Cora and then senses the \n Sachem is staring at him from the perspective of nearly a \n century of laws & judgments. Then... to every word.\n\n SACHEM\n The white man comes like a day that \n has passed. And night enters our \n future with him...\n (pause)\n Our council talks since I was a boy: \n What is the Huron to do?\n (pause)\n But", ". He looks at Cora.\n\n Back to Chingachgook. Chingachgook states something terse in \n Mohican. Hawkeye agrees. Heyward's confused. He doesn't know \n what they're talking about. Cora has understood Chingachgook's \n intent perfectly.\n\n CORA\n Yes. Go ahead.\n\n HEYWARD\n (explodes)\n What the bloody hell plan is this?\n\n HAWKEY", "\n not. If they do not arrive, the \n fort will fall. If that happens, \n stay close to your father. The French \n will protect the officer class among \n the English.\n\n CORA\n No. I will find you.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Do not.\n (pause)\n Promise me.\n\n Cora drops her forehead to Hawkeye's hands wrapped around \n the bars. She acquiesces,", "his back. He says something in \n Mohican. Uncas spins looks at Alice: her expression's vacant.\n\n HAWKEYE'S KNIFE\n\n cuts a lock of Cora's hair. He folds it into his shirt. The \n orange light from Huron torches, now closer, plays on the \n wall behind her. We hear many Huron approach.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n now run out of the cave and throw themselves into the curtain \n of water", "\n PHELPS' face lights up when he sees Cora Munro.\n\n PHELPS\n Miss Cora! How are you?\n\n CORA\n (smiles)\n Fine, Mr. Phelps. Have you cat gut \n and a suturing needle?\n (for Uncas)\n And we could use some rum, clothes, \n and a place to wash...\n\n Cora tries to remove Alice from her father, but she clings \n", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", " Cora's pale smile.\n\n CORA\n They're going to hang you.\n (pause; soft)\n Why didn't you leave when you had \n the chance?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Because what I am interested in is \n right here...\n\n CORA\n What would you have me do?\n\n He touches her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Webb's reinforcements will arrive or ", "\n French outpost by dawn.\n (sticks out his hand \n and grasps Winthrop's)\n Good luck, Jack.\n\n The men split up...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n FIRE - HAWKEYE\n\n wanders among the dancers and musicians clustered in groups, \n lit by the firelight.\n\n Someone catches his eye and he moves in that direction...\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: CORA\n\n in", " CORA\n Thunder... Papa will arrange \n something.\n\n UNCAS\n\n looks over his shoulder, sees something in the far distance, \n gestures to Hawkeye and Chingachgook.\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: DISTANT HILLS\n\n and the band of red-painted Ottawa and Coureurs des Bois, \n who have now split into two groups, are still on their trail. \n Meanwhile, oblivious...\n\n " ], [ " their blood running and won their respect. They step aside \n and nod to him. Heyward keeps walking. He is home.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. MUNRO'S BEDCHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n DOOR\n\n A knock and Heyward enters.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n Alice is in her father's bed. Cora is collecting and tearing \n linen into strips for bandaging.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora...", " HEYWARD\n My God it's good to see you.\n\n He takes her hand in both of his and kisses it. He is open \n and lit up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. POLTROON'S HOUSE, BACK YARD - DAY\n\n CORA & HEYWARD\n\n A vegetable plot behind the Poltroon's house is a provincial \n substitute for a formal garden setting. Heyward and Cora sit \n", "he's looking \n at her.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n pursues two fleeing Hurons up the incline. Two strides gain \n him the first man, who he hamstrings and runs over to pursue \n the second up the hill... as...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n in the confused melee, grabs a found musket and aims it at \n an Indian. We recognize that he's aiming at Chingachgook \n pursuing the second Huron up the hill...\n\n ", "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", "achgook - Last of the \n Mohicans.\n\n Chingachgook's hands drop to his sides. He lets out his breath \n with a weariness. His eyes seek Hawkeye's. They hold...\n\n CORA\n\n is standing, her back to us, in front of a rock-covered grave \n with a wooden cross. Next to it is Uncas' burial platform. \n Cora [says a] silent prayer. Then she pauses, crosses herself. \n Her emotions are spent", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", "In Mohican, Chingachgook decides some things. \n Hawkeye and Uncas nod. Heyward approaches Hawkeye.\n\n HEYWARD\n Any powder?\n\n HAWKEYE:\n (crossing to Cora)\n Only one or two loads.\n\n CORA\n\n is soaked to the bones. Hawkeye strips off his buckskin \n hunting shirt and wrings it out.\n\n Cora turns her back, strips off her white blouse and", ". He looks at Cora.\n\n Back to Chingachgook. Chingachgook states something terse in \n Mohican. Hawkeye agrees. Heyward's confused. He doesn't know \n what they're talking about. Cora has understood Chingachgook's \n intent perfectly.\n\n CORA\n Yes. Go ahead.\n\n HEYWARD\n (explodes)\n What the bloody hell plan is this?\n\n HAWKEY", "\n CORA'S\n appalled.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (turns)\n Clear it up any?\n\n HEYWARD\n (loud)\n I owe you gratitude or I'd call you \n out!\n\n HAWKEYE\n (low)\n Do not let gratitude get in the way...\n\n Cora's hand holds back Heyward's sword arm because suddenly \n Chingachgook lo", "\n His countenance gives way momentarily. All his experience \n seems of no avail. He touches the side of Cora's face. Grabs \n Killdeer and follows Chingachgook.\n\n ALICE\n\n sensing new danger, slips away on her own.\n\n CORA\n\n crosses to the Ranger who's semi-conscious, feverish and \n getting delirious. She can't do a thing except hold his hand \n and think of her father.\n\n ", "throp grabs Nathaniel.\n\n HAWKEYE\n You're a liar!\n\n CORA'S\n\n saddened. Heyward's stature has fallen irrevocably in her \n eyes.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n can't help it. He turns to look at Cora...\n\n HEYWARD'S POV: DOORWAY\n\n She's gone.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n suffused with an inner sadness, turns to Haw", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "\n Heyward' shattered inside.\n\n HEYWARD\n I see...\n\n CORA\n I am sorry, Duncan...\n\n Heyward nods. He's speechless. He's errect as he leaves the \n room.\n\n CLOSE: CORA\n\n The tension rushes out of her and she shudders and leans \n against the quarter-timbered walls for support. Then she \n collects the linen and starts out.\n\n", "ward. As \n Heyward spins...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK'S WAR CLUB\n\n flashes up the hill. It cleaves the second man's back and \n bowls him over. Chingachgook retrieves his club as his \n scalping knife slashes down...\n\n UNCAS\n\n scalps the man he killed. Chingachgook dispatches the Huron \n he hamstrung.\n\n WIDE\n\n Sudden silence. Heyward's motionless. The women", "\n\n HEYWARD\n (suddenly tired)\n Ambush... on the George Road. This \n Magua led us into it.\n (pause)\n ...eighteen killed. It's these men \n who saved us. They guided us here...\n\n MUNRO\n Thank you. How can I reward you?\n\n No answer. Then...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Help ourselves to a few horns from \n your powder stores", " CORA\n No, Duncan!\n\n Duncan ignores her.\n\n HEYWARD'S MUSKET\n\n is jerked from his hands.\n\n HAWKEYE\n ...case your aim is any better'n \n your judgment.\n\n He's drawn his sword, reflexively. Hawkeye flips the musket \n around one-handed. It's pointed at Heyward's chest. And \n Hawkeye FIRES, killing an attacking Huron behind Hey", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "and it's 12 miles cross \n country to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n And if we're unlucky?\n\n HAWKEYE\n You will have to forego the pleasure \n of hangin' me.\n\n REVERSE: WIDE\n\n Hawkeye helps Cora; Heyward, the Ranger. Chingachgook carries \n Alice, down the rockface into a cave. We hear a distant ROAR \n reverberating off the", ". The significance is very ominous to them. We don't \n know why yet. Chingachgook starts away...\n\n HEYWARD\n Let us look after them...\n\n He starts approaching the bodies.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n Leave them.\n\n Heyward stops. Hawkeye and Uncas follow Chingachgook, leaving \n the cabin.\n\n CORA\n (hasn't moved)\n Though they are strangers, they are" ], [ ", about to strike. She stares \n at him. Her eyes are like pools of deep water, calm, open, \n almost beatific. It stops Magua...\n\n MAGUA\n\n inexplicably, drops his knife hand. He's riveted by her. \n About him, there's a glimmer of something else. He wears a \n human face for this one moment. He reaches out with his other \n hand to offer her safety. To bring her back from the edge...\n\n ALICE\n\n ", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "abs Alice. \n Cora strikes at Magua. He knocks her aside. Chaos & confusion. \n Meanwhile:\n\n MAGUA\n (French; subtitled)\n This is not the voice of wisdom. I \n go to the Hurons of the Lakes! You \n are women. Send your arrows and \n guns to the Seneca, beg from them \n venison to eat, corn to grind. \n Slaves, dogs, rabbits, th", "\n Will the Sachem's judgment be honored? Will some warriors \n hack down Hawkeye & Cora? As they go...\n\n CORA\n\n moves towards her sister. But Hawkeye holds her tightly as \n they retreat.\n\n CORA'S POV: ALICE\n\n with Magua's group crosses the path. He drags Alice behind \n him like baggage. She regains her feet. Magua is oblivious \n to her. He's heading towards the plateau", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "their useless muskets as clubs or with fixed bayonets - \n as the smoke and fog swirls among the men - fighting for \n their lives...\n\n MAGUA\n\n glides through the scenes, striking and hunting. Some of his \n coterie of braves near him.\n\n He sees...\n\n BLONDE WOMAN\n\n hugging the ground in fear. Magua throws her over. It's not \n Alice Munro. It's a woman protecting her baby. Magua walks \n on", " Heart. Give Magua new heart.\n\n Magua totally disdains the Englishman and walks away from \n him, starting up a steeper forested hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - TWILIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE, UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Running cross-country after the Huron column. They leap over \n fallen logs and keep going.\n\n FRONTAL: HAWKEYE\n\n breathing hard, his lips are", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "him up. Then push. He's on the ledge. Moving \n fast...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n HURONS\n\n On point are approaching the path above the promontory. Five \n warriors are ahead of Magua. One behind him drags Alice.\n\n FIRST\n\n Huron starts up the narrow path. Suddenly...\n\n UNCAS\n\n slams him off the rock with the butt of his musket.\n", "\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n HURONS \n\n Move along animal paths.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n struggle through the branches of trees. No one helps them. \n When they fall behind, they are pushed forward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n badly beaten, bound, staggers ahead to get behind Maqua. \n Then:\n\n HEYWARD\n If Magua give women to Yengeese ", ". One of the braves behind Magua raise his tomahawk. On \n his downswing...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n running through surreal patches, thinks he glimpses Cora two \n hundred yards away.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Cora!\n\n Chingachgook, on Hawkeye's left, slams down two Hurons with \n his war club.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n running through the chaos and murder and British troopers \n ", "ieves... I \n spit on you!\n\n Those Hurons who hear, do so in deadly, boding silence. Magua \n and his fourteen hard core braves start out as...\n\n SACHEM\n\n heard Heyward's translation. He looks at Heyward, then looks \n at Hawkeye and he nods his head.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n sees this. His eyes go to Cora. They've stopped dragging her \n towards the fire pit.\n\n Hawkeye steps forward", "\n Magua abruptly leaves Montcalm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. WOODS - NIGHT\n\n MAGUA \n\n Walking back to the Huron camp. Reveal a Huron sub-chief has \n been in the woods, waiting for Magua. Now he joins him. They \n walk in silence. Then...\n\n MAGUA\n (in Iroquois; re: \n Montcalm)\n I wonder at the", "\n PHELPS' face lights up when he sees Cora Munro.\n\n PHELPS\n Miss Cora! How are you?\n\n CORA\n (smiles)\n Fine, Mr. Phelps. Have you cat gut \n and a suturing needle?\n (for Uncas)\n And we could use some rum, clothes, \n and a place to wash...\n\n Cora tries to remove Alice from her father, but she clings \n", "and it's 12 miles cross \n country to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n And if we're unlucky?\n\n HAWKEYE\n You will have to forego the pleasure \n of hangin' me.\n\n REVERSE: WIDE\n\n Hawkeye helps Cora; Heyward, the Ranger. Chingachgook carries \n Alice, down the rockface into a cave. We hear a distant ROAR \n reverberating off the", "rockets past his ear and \n he's already squeezing Killdeer's trigger as...\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV OVER BARREL: SMOKE\n\n from Magua's musket blast clears. Magua's gone. He almost \n shape-shifted, it happened so quickly. It's nearly mystical.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n lowers Killdeer, impressed.\n\n CORA\n\n glances back at Hawkeye. She doesn't know why", "\n right underside of his throat.\n\n CLOSE: MAGUA'S\n\n knife arm punches forward.\n\n WIDE: PROMONTORY\n\n Uncas falls down the face onto to the rocks.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n seeing his boy killed, CRIES out and is charging up the path, \n Hawkeye following.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - ALICE\n\n backs to the edge.\n\n MAGUA\n\n moves on Alice. His knife is low" ], [ "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "Magua's \n heart is twisted. He would make \n himself into what twisted him. A \n Dog, become Master of Dogs. But are \n Hurons dogs? ...Magua's way is false. \n It is like the white sickness. Magua's \n way will bring only sadness and shame. \n Is there another way? I don't know.\n (pauses)\n I am Nathaniel of the Yengeese; \n Hawkey", "\n\n His name is NATHANIEL POE. He's a few years older than Uncas. \n The French and the French-speaking tribes know him as La \n Longue Carabine (Long Rifle). Other frontiersmen in New York \n colony and the Iroquois and Delaware-speaking tribes know \n him as Hawkeye. Sweat stains his shirt. He flashes through \n the tree branches disturbing nothing. Making no sound.\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: A", "achgook - Last of the \n Mohicans.\n\n Chingachgook's hands drop to his sides. He lets out his breath \n with a weariness. His eyes seek Hawkeye's. They hold...\n\n CORA\n\n is standing, her back to us, in front of a rock-covered grave \n with a wooden cross. Next to it is Uncas' burial platform. \n Cora [says a] silent prayer. Then she pauses, crosses herself. \n Her emotions are spent", ". He looks at Cora.\n\n Back to Chingachgook. Chingachgook states something terse in \n Mohican. Hawkeye agrees. Heyward's confused. He doesn't know \n what they're talking about. Cora has understood Chingachgook's \n intent perfectly.\n\n CORA\n Yes. Go ahead.\n\n HEYWARD\n (explodes)\n What the bloody hell plan is this?\n\n HAWKEY", "In Mohican, Chingachgook decides some things. \n Hawkeye and Uncas nod. Heyward approaches Hawkeye.\n\n HEYWARD\n Any powder?\n\n HAWKEYE:\n (crossing to Cora)\n Only one or two loads.\n\n CORA\n\n is soaked to the bones. Hawkeye strips off his buckskin \n hunting shirt and wrings it out.\n\n Cora turns her back, strips off her white blouse and", "\n\n HAWKEYE \n\n Hears the distant howl. He's now lit silver blue by the \n moonlight through the falling water. Hawkeye knows it means \n Hurons are out there. He exchanges worried glances with Uncas \n & Chingachgook.\n\n UNCAS\n\n immediately starts up the right acclivity to one fissure, \n and Chingachgook moves carefully to the first fissure. Hawkeye \n follows.\n\n HAWKEYE\n", "He seems tall and muscled. Heavy, \n even breathing. We'll learn later this man is UNCAS, the \n last of the Mohicans.\n\n PROFILE: UNCAS' ARMS\n\n flash as he runs. One carries a flintlock musket. Sweat on \n the man's skin. A calico shirt is gathered at the waist with \n a wampum belt of small white beads over a breechcloth. He \n wears leggings to protect his legs. A long-hand", "oms over him.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Yengeese no good in woods. Make more \n noise, I kill him.\n\n Heyward spins. Hawkeye coolly watches Cora. Her attitude is \n hostile; aligned with Heyward. He turns away. Meanwhile...\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops, alarmed. Something in the air bothers him. Hawkeye \n smells it, too.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n is", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", "bends over a moccasin print that Chingachgook's examining. \n They look at each other grimly. Heyward joins them.\n\n HEYWARD\n Who were these people?\n\n HAWKEYE\n (re: print)\n Ottawa!\n\n HEYWARD\n Excuse me...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Ottawa.\n\n UNCAS\n\n ", "A haze of sunlight illuminates silver and lead \n clouds. Hawkeye is a little apart, watching his father.\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: CHINGACHGOOK\n\n speaks to the sky.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (Mohican)\n Great Spirit and the Maker of all \n Life...\n\n ON HAWKEYE & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n We HEAR Hawkeye's English translation in VOICE OVER:\n\n CH", "hand. He says something to \n Chingachgook who nods. Hawkeye and Uncas are a little apart \n in an outer grouping of the men. Ongewasgone is a war chief \n and wears a white plume and is tattooed. As Martin finishes, \n he steps forward.\n\n ONGEWASGONE\n John Cameron, thank you for your \n hospitality...\n\n Twin River Mohawk got no quarrel with Les Francais. Trade \n furs with", "brother. \n And you should leave this place now \n and go to Can-tuck-ee...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (Mohican; subtitled)\n What will they do with my white son?\n\n One of the guards - scared to death by Chingachgook - \n nervously fingers his musket.\n\n GUARD\n Get back from him!\n\n HEYWARD\n\n enters.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n shru", ".\n\n Magua starts towards Hawkeye, his tomahawk slipping into his \n hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Sachem)\n I come to you unarmed and in peace \n to unstop your ears, wise one. Because \n the Hurons are mislead by the words \n of the wolf who's never spoken the \n truth.\n\n Sachem gestures with his hand to Magua. Magua reluctantly \n stops advancing", "INGACHGOOK/HAWKEYE (V.O.)\n (in English)\n ... a warrior goes to you swift and \n straight as an arrow shot into the \n sun. Welcome him and let him take \n his place at the council fire of my \n people.\n (pause)\n He is Uncas, my son.\n (pause)\n Bid them patience and ask death for \n speed; for they are all there but \n one I, Ching", "and it's 12 miles cross \n country to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n And if we're unlucky?\n\n HAWKEYE\n You will have to forego the pleasure \n of hangin' me.\n\n REVERSE: WIDE\n\n Hawkeye helps Cora; Heyward, the Ranger. Chingachgook carries \n Alice, down the rockface into a cave. We hear a distant ROAR \n reverberating off the", "He walks towards us approaching the island, \n two hundred yards away...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. SOUTH FISSURE - NIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n Checks his powder horn. Nearly empty. He looks at \n Chingachgook.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. GLEN FALLS ISLAND, CAVE - NIGHT\n\n CORA \n\n With the Ranger, looks up. Hawkeye enters. The look", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr" ], [ "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", ". This is their exit.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n engraves her image in his memory one last time and then \n sprints across the floor towards the water...\n\n WHAT HAWKEYE SEES: JAMMING AT THE WATERFALL\n\n and then through it into...\n\n SUBJECTIVE CAMERA: UP\n\n An awful crushing roar. We explode out the front of a white \n cataract a third of the way from the top and we fall down \n away from the world.", "\n\n EXT. GLEN FALLS - NIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE \n\n Tumbles down the falls; rolling, tumbling through the white \n water; then through air; then back into cascading white water \n again, disappearing...\n\n THE RIVER BELOW - NIGHT\n\n UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK'S\n\n Bodies hit, disappear and don't surface. It looks \n unsurviveable.\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: FALL", "\n right underside of his throat.\n\n CLOSE: MAGUA'S\n\n knife arm punches forward.\n\n WIDE: PROMONTORY\n\n Uncas falls down the face onto to the rocks.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n seeing his boy killed, CRIES out and is charging up the path, \n Hawkeye following.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - ALICE\n\n backs to the edge.\n\n MAGUA\n\n moves on Alice. His knife is low", "ua dies in the dust.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n watching Chingachgook's heaving back. It's over.\n\n CORA\n\n alone, kneeling in the meadow. Her eyes downcast...\n\n WIDE REAR SHOT\n\n FADE OUT:\n\n FADE IN:\n\n EXT. - MOUNTAIN TOP - NEXT DAY\n\n Chingachgook's at the edge, facing the endless rolling forests \n to the west.", "exhausted. Hawkeye & Cora against the wall.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER BANK - TWILIGHT\n\n RIVER FALLS ARE IN MIST & RED SKY\n\n a landscape with mist rearlit by the red light of the sun \n that's already behind the mountains. The blues are turning \n purple and the greens are turning black and the white \n highlights of the foaming water are going rose. Reflecting \n the darkening sky, where the", "PIECE OF TAN\n\n two hundred and fifty yards away, a few square inches buried \n in the foliage...\n\n SUDDENLY HE STOPS\n\n Killdeer's at his shoulder...\n\n HAWKEYE'S THUMB\n\n cocks the lock holding the piece of flint: click.\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops dead, holding out his hand... no sound.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n slips through young trees and stops, shouldering his \n smooth", "E\n This is it, as far as we can go... \n If we're lucky, they'll be figurin' \n we can't have come this way and \n must've beached our canoes and headed \n cross land. If we're very lucky, \n they'll figure we went over the falls.\n\n HEYWARD\n Then what?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Then we take the south rim down the \n mountain", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", "a moment, spins. He has no idea of direction any \n more. Everything is death in strange tableaux. Meanwhile:\n\n MUNRO\n\n hollering\n\n MUNRO\n Cora! Alice!\n\n He cuts down a Huron with his sword who is trying to leap at \n him from the right. An Osage warrior with red scalp-lock \n leaps on the back of Munro's horse, reaching over to stab \n down into Munro's neck. The old man's left", "pound across the (sic) to the meadow towards Magua's path...\n\n CORA\n\n trying to stay with them, scrambles up...\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n UNCAS\n\n reaches the overhang. It juts away from the face six feet.\n\n THE CEILING OF THE OVERHANG\n\n Uncas' hand jams into a crack in the granite, forms a fist \n and twists, making a wedge.\n\n He swings out,", "and Alice.\n\n ALICE\n\n approaches and is frozen in horror. Cora shields her from \n the sight. Cora is affected but confronts it directly.\n\n HEYWARD (O.S.)\n Anything to be done?\n\n UNCAS\n\n returns from under one part of the wreckage, ashen, stoic, \n as they all are. We know the degree of their inner pain.\n\n UNCAS\n All dead...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n ", "irrelevance. He slams one aside with \n his musket.\n\n HAWKEYE FIRES.\n\n HURON\n\n with tomahawk, about to blindside Chingachgook, is SHOT DOWN.\n\n MAGUA\n\n charging Chingachgook.\n\n VERY WIDE\n\n Two men, like dots, race to collide at the center of the \n promontory. Now the others fall back... It's one-on-one. \n Hawkeye", "Uncas' right arm is useless. He scrambles \n up. Next to the expertise of a mature warrior like Magua, \n Uncas' raw, young determination may not be enough.\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Freezes.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n UNCAS\n\n closing, swings. Magua moves inside, stabs Uncas twice, turns \n him to face the edge, ripping his head left to expose the", "dangling in space by the hand wedged into the \n rock. His right hand reaches out and up, searching the \n vertical face for...\n\n UNCAS' HAND\n\n ... a rock flake. An indentation. Anything... His fingers \n find a diagonal crevice and...\n\n UNCAS\n\n swings out, now hanging by the vertical face above the \n overhang. His features are distorted with determination. \n Nothing will stop him. His right hand grabs another rock.\n\n His arms snap", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", " HAWKEYE\n Don't move...\n\n AERIAL SHOT\n\n from the other side of the falls. It's a two hundred foot \n high, death-defying cataract.\n\n The canoes - slightly above us - will go right over.\n\n TWO CANOES\n\n At the last moment, Hawkeye & Uncas land both on either side \n of the larger rock outcropping. It is literally at the lip \n of the falls.\n\n HEYWARD", "into his \n shoulder he FIRES.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n among the hollering Hurons, is shot dead. It goes unnoticed.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n UNCAS\n\n Half-way up the rock face. He's approaching an overhang. He \n climbs with a reckless desperation...\n\n EXT. STREAM - DAY\n\n HAWKEYE & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n ", "him up. Then push. He's on the ledge. Moving \n fast...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n HURONS\n\n On point are approaching the path above the promontory. Five \n warriors are ahead of Magua. One behind him drags Alice.\n\n FIRST\n\n Huron starts up the narrow path. Suddenly...\n\n UNCAS\n\n slams him off the rock with the butt of his musket.\n" ], [ "\n\n underlit by the red firelight. They are a disposable people, \n a diverse plurality stuck in a postage stamp-size fort in an \n ocean of forest, locked into mortal deadly conflict because \n of the policies of cold and distant European monarchs.\n\n A PLACE A LITTLE DISTANT FROM THE FIRE\n\n We can barely make out the eyes and faces of a number of men \n behind logs, crates and new wreckage from the day's \n bombardment.\n\n ", "IGHT\n\n JOHN CAMERON\n\n roasts potatoes on a stick in the stone fireplace next to \n CAPTAIN JACK WINTHROP, an American in very worn quasi-military \n gear. On a rough table in the tiny cabin ALEXANDRIA, his \n wife, is kneading bread. Three children climb on their father.\n\n He grabs their wild seven year old son, JAMES, who shrieks \n laughter and dodges away. The cabin has two primitive rooms, \n ", "a steep forested slope in the heart of the \n Adirondacks.\n\n CORA\n Much further?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Top of this ridge. Fort and Lake \n George are downhill of it.\n\n ALICE\n\n Re-energized, her spirits pick up.\n\n ALICE\n Will we be able to bathe?\n\n Before Cora can answer they hear a deep, rolling roar. Alice \n is alarmed.\n\n", "\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n throws Heyward a blanket. Heyward spreads the blanket below \n the top of the mound and - maintaining silence - he gestures \n for Cora & Alice to rest there.\n\n ALICE'S HEAD\n\n hits the blanket. She curls into a fetal position and she's \n out. Heyward is nearby on watch.\n\n Hawkeye has taken a position two-thirds of the way around \n the crescent shaped mound.\n\n Cora has sought", ".\n\n She's still unsettled.\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Duncan!\n\n REVERSE: ALICE MUNRO\n\n eighteen years old, white-blonde hair, wide blue eyes. She's \n effervescent and runs to hug him. Heyward is taken aback by \n her enthusiasm and laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n My God, you've grown up.\n\n ALICE\n We leave in the morning?!\n\n", "ose scalp hangs on my \n lodge pole. And whose heart I cut \n from his chest.\n\n Now we see Cora on the ground. Defeat & fear are held in \n place by her determination.\n\n Alice looks around, in another place. Heyward's hands are \n bound between his back with a piece of wood wedged through \n his elbows.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. DIFFERENT FOREST - DAY\n\n WIDE FR", "as they back up.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n smashing his war club straight down on a Huron, reaches for \n the man's musket and shoots another. Then he sees...\n\n SMOKE DRIFTING OVER WATER\n\n It's glass-smooth. And the bows are barely visible of three \n or four Huron war canoes.\n\n THE SHALLOWS\n\n HAWKEYE, CHINGACHGOOK, UNCAS, CORA, ALICE, THE R", "PIECE OF TAN\n\n two hundred and fifty yards away, a few square inches buried \n in the foliage...\n\n SUDDENLY HE STOPS\n\n Killdeer's at his shoulder...\n\n HAWKEYE'S THUMB\n\n cocks the lock holding the piece of flint: click.\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops dead, holding out his hand... no sound.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n slips through young trees and stops, shouldering his \n smooth", "and float away. He \n moves Cora and Alice towards the canoe...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. LAKE GEORGE - DAY\n\n WATER & SWIRLING SMOKE\n\n the bottom of the frame is water like glass. Smoke obscures \n the background. Fingers tendril towards us. Out of the mist \n we HEAR small splashing and then the high bow of a war canoe \n defines itself. It's paddled towards us.\n", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their", "-sent!\n (muskets returned to \n shoulder)\n Fire!\n\n Like a single shot, two hundred fifty black powder muskets \n fire .65 caliber lead shot at chest height in a scythe of \n death.\n\n SERGEANT MAJOR\n Prime! Load!\n\n The Dutch roof lines of Albany are in the distance. Nearer, \n a coach races past.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. ROAD -", "doesn't answer as he, Chingachgook, Uncas and Heyward \n make their way to the top of the ridge.\n\n CLOSER ANGLES: CORA & ALICE\n\n join them and look down upon their expectation of a secure \n piece of England in the wilderness, a safe harbor, a father's \n warm welcome.\n\n THEIR POV: FORT WILLIAM HENRY\n\n is none of those things. The thunder is the roar of French \n siege", "three across \n and three deep.\n\n MILITARY HQ, ENTRANCE\n\n MAJOR DUNCAN HEYWARD\n\n Steps out. Rigid salutes.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n climbs onto his white military charger. It's spirited. Cora \n & Alice are in riding dresses and veils. The veil doesn't \n completely cover Alice's golden hair and blue eyes and the \n flush of her complexion. They're riding two sidesaddled ", "V: CASE\n\n an enameled portrait of a dark-haired young woman.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n as a soldier is militarily first-rate in his milieu: the \n open battlefields of Europe.\n\n Right now, however, he is about to enter the forests of North \n America. He closes his clasp and glances out the window as \n we enter Albany and as a facade of buildings & people pass.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. BRITISH H", "his back. He says something in \n Mohican. Uncas spins looks at Alice: her expression's vacant.\n\n HAWKEYE'S KNIFE\n\n cuts a lock of Cora's hair. He folds it into his shirt. The \n orange light from Huron torches, now closer, plays on the \n wall behind her. We hear many Huron approach.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n now run out of the cave and throw themselves into the curtain \n of water", "Captain Jack is standing on a box. \n Some women and kids mill around some tables and boards laid \n over barrels. Cooking fires. Smoke.\n\n Most but not all around Captain Jack are men, nine settlers, \n 3 hunter/trappers, eight Mohawk farmers in mixed European \n and native clothing. Off to the side are an English Lieutenant \n on horseback and a ten-man escort from whatever regiment's \n in Albany. A man named HENRI speaks in French. His son, \n M", "runners. No noise except \n their hard, even breathing.\n\n They're moving down a clear trail.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n out on the flank. Running hard.\n\n CLOSER: HAWKEYE\n\n lips are drawn back, determined, flashing through the hard \n verticals of the forest, now leaps down an embankment into \n the soft loam and keeps going.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. HURON VILLAGE - DAY", "and Mohawks locked in struggle with Hurons. Cora's dress is \n torn. She holds Alice to her. There's a pistol in Cora's \n hand.\n\n ONE HURON\n\n scalping a prone soldier, rips the trophy from his head, \n turns and faces us.\n\n CORA\n shoots him in the face.\n\n EXTREMELY CLOSE: ALICE\n\n and her eyes take it all in. And her affect starts to flatten.", "are frozen, \n as terrified of the savages and apparent half-breed rescuers \n as they were of those who attacked them.\n\n ALICE\n\n Cora, holding her, is stunned but functioning. Moments ago \n both women were clean and demure. Now their riding dresses \n are torn, mud-stained, blood-spattered and their baggage is \n gone.\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n crossed to his slaughtered soldiers. Moments ago they were a \n testament to", "the pan of priming powder which flashes and...\n\n TAN\n\n is a huge elk that leaps at the sound.\n\n KILLDEER'S MUZZLE\n\n CRACKS like lightning.\n\n AN ELK\n\n leaps where the .59 caliber round was programmed to intercept \n him. On the moment of impact...\n\n WIDE\n\n three men approach the fallen elk and each other. We realize \n they're hunting together. Hawkeye steps aside for \n " ], [ " CUT TO:\n\n INT. MUNRO'S QUARTERS - NIGHT\n\n MUNRO\n (embracing his \n daughters; softer)\n Told you to stay away from this hell \n hole! Why did you disobey me?\n\n CORA\n When? How?\n\n MUNRO\n My letter...\n\n CORA\n There was none!\n\n MUN", " to him. Munro holds her tighter. Then he whispers something \n to her. She nods her head. And Cora takes her.\n\n They exit.\n\n MUNRO\n\n is moved beyond words by his daughters' presence. There's a \n break, a pause...\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward over table \n map)\n What a place for them...\n\n HEYWARD\n Might I enquire after the situation, \n sir", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their", ", war clubs and point-blank musket fire.\n\n ALICE\n\n on the ground, screaming insanely, covered by Cora who's \n protecting her little sister, and...\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n horse shot from beneath him, the animal folding, falling \n straight to the earth, and...\n\n MAGUA\n\n shoots Ambrose in the chest, and...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n by the Munro daughters spins, swinging his fusil like a ball-\n bat", " HAWKEYE\n Dropped in to see how you boys is \n doin'.\n\n COLONEL MUNRO\n\n running from his quarters is shocked to see them.\n\n ALICE\n (hysterical)\n Papa, Papa!!\n\n MUNRO\n (enraged)\n Why are you here?!\n\n Cora is stunned. Alice is decimated by her father's anger. \n Munro sees and whips off his coat to cover them", "\n HEYWARD\n Colonel Munro sent him. He was one \n of our Mohawk allies.\n\n HAWKEYE\n He is Huron and nothing else.\n (checking the Munro \n girls are not too \n close)\n Why would he want to murder the girl?\n\n HEYWARD\n What?!\n\n HAWKEYE\n Dark haired...\n\n HEYWARD\n Miss", ". An adjutant \n comes and goes.\n\n Heyward and Munro are sensitive to appearances in front of \n the adjutant. Cora couldn't give a damn.\n\n MUNRO\n The man encouraged the colonials to \n desert in this very room, in my \n presence. He is guilty of sedition \n and must be tried and hanged like \n any other criminal, regardless of \n what he did for my children.\n\n CORA\n", ".\n\n She's still unsettled.\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Duncan!\n\n REVERSE: ALICE MUNRO\n\n eighteen years old, white-blonde hair, wide blue eyes. She's \n effervescent and runs to hug him. Heyward is taken aback by \n her enthusiasm and laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n My God, you've grown up.\n\n ALICE\n We leave in the morning?!\n\n", "I inquire if General \n Webb has heard from Colonel Munro's \n daughters? I was to rendezvous with \n them in Albany and escort them to \n the fort.\n\n WEBB\n Yes. You may.\n (to Magua, after a \n glance at Heyward)\n You there. What does Munro call you?\n (to Heyward)\n The \"Scotsman\" has sent one of his \n Indian allies to", "English army out of America, the \n better it will be for these people.\n\n MUNRO\n You do not know what you are saying!\n\n CORA\n (explodes)\n Yes I do! I know exactly what I am \n saying. And if it is sedition, then \n I am guilty of sedition, too!\n\n She exits, leaving them there.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FORT, STOCK", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", "iously. Some are cocking flintlocks.\n\n MUNRO\n\n gallops his horse away from Cora and Alice towards the scene \n of the last attack. We hear him from the distance ordering...\n\n MUNRO\n Do not break ranks! I want these \n ranks to hold...!\n\n Cora's frightened.\n\n HAWKEYE'S\n\n frustrated. He saw Munro leave Cora. He knows events have a \n momentum and it's accelerating.\n\n CH", " CORA (O.S.)\n Heyward! Duncan Heyward.\n\n Heyward looks to the side. An inner light turns on. In this \n mode, this is a man we could like.\n\n REVERSE: CORA MUNRO\n\n enters from the garden. She's vivacious, dark-haired, \n unconventional in that she's educated, but with conventional \n values and attitudes. She hugs Duncan to her and then pushes \n him away to look at him.\n\n", "\n\n momentum and thrown tomahawk spread-eagles one Huron, near a \n couple of wounded Redcoats who fight on...\n\n MAGUA\n\n calmly sees the odds have changed. His attention becomes \n focused. He commits a very revealing act seen through the \n blurred foreground action of struggling bodies. We will \n remember it. He raises his musket and aims at...\n\n CORA MUNRO\n\n who's unaware she's a target. Why is he singling out a Mun", "and takes \n Alice under his arm. Bombardment resumes. Alice clings while \n they race for the cover of his quarters:]\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward; re: Alice \n & Cora)\n Why did you allow them to come?... \n And where the bloody hell are my \n reinforcements!!\n\n They race into the yellow lantern light of Munro's quarters \n and slam and bolt the heavy door. Heyward's confused...\n\n ", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "INGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n move next to the sergeant with the shackle keys who looks at \n them curiously as...\n\n WOMEN\n\n with children nervously search the threatening trees, hoping \n against hope these are isolated incidents.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n draws his sword and is passing orders to his sergeant major, \n scanning the hills...\n\n EXT. FORESTED SLOPE - DAY\n\n MAGUA\n\n His eyes see Munro.\n", "are a man with a few \n admirable qualities. But taken as a \n whole, I was wrong to have thought \n so highly of you.\n\n Heyward's shot through the heart.\n\n MUNRO\n But the man is guilty of sedition \n and subject to military justice and \n beyond pardon.\n\n CORA\n \"Justice\"? If that's \"justice\"..., \n then the sooner French guns blow the \n ", "daughters \n are here, too.\n\n Beams raises his torch, sees the muddied, soaked women. He \n is shocked that they traveled with Heyward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FORT WILLIAM HENRY, PARADE GROUND - NIGHT\n\n GROUP\n\n Emerges from a sally-port tunnel. It's smokey. NOISE is \n deafening. The group has traveled through a nightmare, only \n to", "the column...\n\n EXT. FORESTED SLOPE - MAGUA\n\n charging down the hill... with his coterie of twenty Huron \n warriors, heading for the area in which he saw Munro.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n at the head of the disintegrating column. Cora's holding \n Alice's head to her bosom, covering her ears as if to protect \n her from the sounds.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n shouting orders.\n\n SERGEANT MA" ], [ " their blood running and won their respect. They step aside \n and nod to him. Heyward keeps walking. He is home.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. MUNRO'S BEDCHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n DOOR\n\n A knock and Heyward enters.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n Alice is in her father's bed. Cora is collecting and tearing \n linen into strips for bandaging.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora...", " HEYWARD\n My God it's good to see you.\n\n He takes her hand in both of his and kisses it. He is open \n and lit up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. POLTROON'S HOUSE, BACK YARD - DAY\n\n CORA & HEYWARD\n\n A vegetable plot behind the Poltroon's house is a provincial \n substitute for a formal garden setting. Heyward and Cora sit \n", "\n for war. Their Latinate voluptuousness \n combines with their Gallic laziness \n and the result is: they would rather \n make love with their faces than fight.\n\n Webb's Adjutants laugh uproariously at his wit. Heyward's \n stiff, perfunctory smile. He's been made the butt of the \n joke. He does not share Webb's derisive view of the French.\n\n Webb doesn't like Heyward", ". He looks at Cora.\n\n Back to Chingachgook. Chingachgook states something terse in \n Mohican. Hawkeye agrees. Heyward's confused. He doesn't know \n what they're talking about. Cora has understood Chingachgook's \n intent perfectly.\n\n CORA\n Yes. Go ahead.\n\n HEYWARD\n (explodes)\n What the bloody hell plan is this?\n\n HAWKEY", "In Mohican, Chingachgook decides some things. \n Hawkeye and Uncas nod. Heyward approaches Hawkeye.\n\n HEYWARD\n Any powder?\n\n HAWKEYE:\n (crossing to Cora)\n Only one or two loads.\n\n CORA\n\n is soaked to the bones. Hawkeye strips off his buckskin \n hunting shirt and wrings it out.\n\n Cora turns her back, strips off her white blouse and", "\n HEYWARD\n Colonel Munro sent him. He was one \n of our Mohawk allies.\n\n HAWKEYE\n He is Huron and nothing else.\n (checking the Munro \n girls are not too \n close)\n Why would he want to murder the girl?\n\n HEYWARD\n What?!\n\n HAWKEYE\n Dark haired...\n\n HEYWARD\n Miss", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", "HEYWARD\n The men of the regiment will fetch \n water from the lake, build fires and \n provide every comfort you desire, \n Alice...\n\n ALICE\n Duncan, you are absolutely gallant. \n If Cora doesn't marry you, I shall.\n\n CORA\n Alice!\n\n Heyward laughs. Hawkeye sees them. It bothers us: will these \n Europeans, including Cora, shed their frontier experience?\n", "Heyward does not look at him.\n\n FRONT OF COLUMN - CORA WITH ALICE\n\n on the back of a mare. Alice, living through a wide-awake \n nightmare, is huddled under the arm of her sister. They ride \n behind the standard bearers. In the B.G. her father is seen \n approaching and takes his position at their side. Cora looks \n down the column, sheilding her eyes against the sun. We know \n who she's looking for... Hawkeye.\n\n", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", "and takes \n Alice under his arm. Bombardment resumes. Alice clings while \n they race for the cover of his quarters:]\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward; re: Alice \n & Cora)\n Why did you allow them to come?... \n And where the bloody hell are my \n reinforcements!!\n\n They race into the yellow lantern light of Munro's quarters \n and slam and bolt the heavy door. Heyward's confused...\n\n ", " HEYWARD\n I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...\n\n CORA\n\n Her nerves are shattered. She's trying to be brave.\n\n There's a lot going on under Cora's surface. We don't know \n what it is, but it's disconcerting.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora, I adore you and, when we come \n together, we will be the happiest \n couple in England... I am", "olutely.\n\n Heyward rides to the front of the column to Magua, who's \n twenty to thirty yards ahead of everybody else.\n\n HEYWARD\n You there, Scout!\n\n Magua slowly turns towards Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n (overly articulated)\n We must... stop... soon. Women are... \n tired. You... understand?\n\n MAGUA\n (perfect English)\n I understand. This", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", "oms over him.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Yengeese no good in woods. Make more \n noise, I kill him.\n\n Heyward spins. Hawkeye coolly watches Cora. Her attitude is \n hostile; aligned with Heyward. He turns away. Meanwhile...\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops, alarmed. Something in the air bothers him. Hawkeye \n smells it, too.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n is", "HEYWARD\n\n helps Alice. As he does, he stares at Cora's seperation and \n now her proximity to Hawkeye, who's walking on ahead, is \n something Heyward doesn't like. His dark thoughts are \n distracted by a FLASH of light and more ROLLING THUNDER.\n\n WIDE FROM THE FRONT - HAWKEYE\n\n drops and pulls Cora to the ground.\n\n CORA\n Lightning?\n\n Hawkeye", "throp grabs Nathaniel.\n\n HAWKEYE\n You're a liar!\n\n CORA'S\n\n saddened. Heyward's stature has fallen irrevocably in her \n eyes.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n can't help it. He turns to look at Cora...\n\n HEYWARD'S POV: DOORWAY\n\n She's gone.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n suffused with an inner sadness, turns to Haw" ], [ "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", " MAGUA\n (laughs; sardonic)\n Magua slept hard in the English \n wigwams. And the sticks left their \n mark...\n (pause; for real)\n Magua's village and lodges were burnt. \n Magua's children were killed by the \n English. Magua was taken as a slave \n by the Mohawks who fought for the \n Grey Hair. Magua's wife believed he ", ".\n\n OVER MAGUA'S SHOULDER:\n\n MUNRO\n\n his lower body is trapped under his dead horse. Magua leans \n in towards him.\n\n MAGUA\n Grey Hair. I will cut your heart \n from your living chest in front of \n your eyes. As you die, know that I \n will put under the knife your children \n and wipe your seed from this earth \n forever...\n\n Magua pulls his knife and", "s knife but escaped. They'll \n be under it again.\n\n MONTCALM\n Why do hate the Grey Hair, Magua?\n\n MAGUA\n When the Grey Hair is dead, Magua \n will eat his heart. Before he dies \n Magua will put his children under \n the knife so the Grey Hair will see \n his seed is wiped out forever.\n\n Montcalm won't get a direct answer.\n\n MONTCALM", "\n HEYWARD\n Colonel Munro sent him. He was one \n of our Mohawk allies.\n\n HAWKEYE\n He is Huron and nothing else.\n (checking the Munro \n girls are not too \n close)\n Why would he want to murder the girl?\n\n HEYWARD\n What?!\n\n HAWKEYE\n Dark haired...\n\n HEYWARD\n Miss", "blindness and pride \n of the white man. He believes only \n he knows how to speak falsely to \n make other men do his bidding.\n\n Magua exhales in derision.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FORT, MAIN GATE - DAY\n\n MUNRO\n\n At the end of the column, rides out on his horse. Both sides \n of the gate are jammed with armed French troops standing at \n attention. The French colors and honor", "\n\n momentum and thrown tomahawk spread-eagles one Huron, near a \n couple of wounded Redcoats who fight on...\n\n MAGUA\n\n calmly sees the odds have changed. His attention becomes \n focused. He commits a very revealing act seen through the \n blurred foreground action of struggling bodies. We will \n remember it. He raises his musket and aims at...\n\n CORA MUNRO\n\n who's unaware she's a target. Why is he singling out a Mun", "I inquire if General \n Webb has heard from Colonel Munro's \n daughters? I was to rendezvous with \n them in Albany and escort them to \n the fort.\n\n WEBB\n Yes. You may.\n (to Magua, after a \n glance at Heyward)\n You there. What does Munro call you?\n (to Heyward)\n The \"Scotsman\" has sent one of his \n Indian allies to", "red. The right \n third is painted black. Much silver is in his ears. His \n tomahawk is in his left hand. His cut-down musket in his \n right fist. Magua's attention is all focused to one point.\n\n MAGUA'S LONG & TIGHT POV: MUNRO & CORA & ALICE\n\n at the head of the column. This is the focus of Magua's \n attention.\n\n WIDE FRONTAL: COLUMN, STANDARD BEARERS &", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "been ordered to drive off \n the English squatters. They have \n consented to go. So now he calls \n them enemies no longer.\n\n MAGUA\n Magua took the hatchet to color it \n with blood. It is still bright. \n Only when it is red, then it will be \n buried.\n\n MONTCALM\n But so many suns have set since Le \n Renard struck the war post. Is he \n", "MUNROS\n\n Cora turns again to look for Hawkeye.\n\n CLOSER: CORA\n\n doesn't see him, but something else has caught her eye.\n\n YOUNG HURON\n\n running toward the column. Just one man. No musket. He's \n running and whooping like a dog charging from his master's \n front yard. Why?\n\n CLOSER\n\n the Huron arrives at the column, his tomahawk swings into \n his hand and", "Magua's \n heart is twisted. He would make \n himself into what twisted him. A \n Dog, become Master of Dogs. But are \n Hurons dogs? ...Magua's way is false. \n It is like the white sickness. Magua's \n way will bring only sadness and shame. \n Is there another way? I don't know.\n (pauses)\n I am Nathaniel of the Yengeese; \n Hawkey", "\n Magua abruptly leaves Montcalm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. WOODS - NIGHT\n\n MAGUA \n\n Walking back to the Huron camp. Reveal a Huron sub-chief has \n been in the woods, waiting for Magua. Now he joins him. They \n walk in silence. Then...\n\n MAGUA\n (in Iroquois; re: \n Montcalm)\n I wonder at the", " MAGUA\n Yengeese Major give all property to \n Magua. Magua give Yengeese Major \n much wampum, many gifts, maybe three, \n four oxen.\n\n Magua looks at Heyward derisively. Does this white man think \n he's an idiot?\n\n HEYWARD\n Gold could be arranged.\n\n MAGUA\n For Munro children?\n\n HEYWARD\n Yes.\n", "blanket. There is a solidity to his dark, tall figure \n we didn't see before. Magua turns about face and advances on \n the column.\n\n TRACK WITH Magua.\n\n Heyward and the Munro girls pass the camera as does Sgt. \n Major Ambrose, marching in advance of the men. Magua is \n approaching the soldier on the left in the first row.\n\n We see Magua has caught the Redcoat's eye.\n\n REDCOAT\n\n is curious, starts to", "war. The Huron do not fear English \n anger.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Sachem)\n Wise one, the French fathers made \n peace and swore to their honor not \n to break the friendship. Magua broke \n it. It is false that the French would \n not be friends, still, to the Huron.\n\n Sachem reacts.\n\n MAGUA\n (laughs)\n It made our", "MAGUA'S CHEST\n\n A deep indentation and scar.\n\n MONTCALM\n That's where a lead bullet has torn \n you.\n\n MAGUA\n And this?\n\n Magua turns his naked back to Montcalm and puts Montcalm's \n hand on his back... deep ridges of a scar a half inch wide.]\n\n MONTCALM\n My son has been sadly injured. Who \n did this?\n\n", "\n SACHEM\n (in Huron; subtitled)\n The tomahawks of your young men have \n been very red.\n\n MAGUA\n (in Huron; subtitled)\n Many of the Yengeese are dead, great \n Sachem.\n (sound dissolve to \n English)\n I have brought three of my prisoners, \n to honor you. Two are the children \n of Munro. Wh", "is forty-five, wears a large wampum \n belt as a sash over his waistcoat. He has an acute intellect, \n an elegant manner. He is more aristocratic than Munro, but a \n consummate professional soldier. Over the Seneca's shoulder, \n Montcalm sees and nods to...\n\n MAGUA\n\n entering with four Huron braves. This is not the Magua we \n saw on the trail. In his scalp lock, now red-stained and cut \n to" ], [ "\n\n momentum and thrown tomahawk spread-eagles one Huron, near a \n couple of wounded Redcoats who fight on...\n\n MAGUA\n\n calmly sees the odds have changed. His attention becomes \n focused. He commits a very revealing act seen through the \n blurred foreground action of struggling bodies. We will \n remember it. He raises his musket and aims at...\n\n CORA MUNRO\n\n who's unaware she's a target. Why is he singling out a Mun", "\n HEYWARD\n Colonel Munro sent him. He was one \n of our Mohawk allies.\n\n HAWKEYE\n He is Huron and nothing else.\n (checking the Munro \n girls are not too \n close)\n Why would he want to murder the girl?\n\n HEYWARD\n What?!\n\n HAWKEYE\n Dark haired...\n\n HEYWARD\n Miss", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their", "iously. Some are cocking flintlocks.\n\n MUNRO\n\n gallops his horse away from Cora and Alice towards the scene \n of the last attack. We hear him from the distance ordering...\n\n MUNRO\n Do not break ranks! I want these \n ranks to hold...!\n\n Cora's frightened.\n\n HAWKEYE'S\n\n frustrated. He saw Munro leave Cora. He knows events have a \n momentum and it's accelerating.\n\n CH", ", sir! Captain Beams \n will give you the message.\n\n Beams nods. Munro turns back to the map. Hawkeye has something \n else to say.\n\n HAWKEYE\n John Cameron's cabin. We come upon \n it last night. Burned out. Everyone \n murdered. And it was Ottawa. They're \n allied to the French.\n\n Munro looks at him.\n\n MUNRO\n Yes, Mr. P", "INGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n move next to the sergeant with the shackle keys who looks at \n them curiously as...\n\n WOMEN\n\n with children nervously search the threatening trees, hoping \n against hope these are isolated incidents.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n draws his sword and is passing orders to his sergeant major, \n scanning the hills...\n\n EXT. FORESTED SLOPE - DAY\n\n MAGUA\n\n His eyes see Munro.\n", "MUNROS\n\n Cora turns again to look for Hawkeye.\n\n CLOSER: CORA\n\n doesn't see him, but something else has caught her eye.\n\n YOUNG HURON\n\n running toward the column. Just one man. No musket. He's \n running and whooping like a dog charging from his master's \n front yard. Why?\n\n CLOSER\n\n the Huron arrives at the column, his tomahawk swings into \n his hand and", "he brains a British trooper who falls dead. The \n single Huron never breaks stride. He simply runs off again...\n\n CORA\n\n horrified, holds Alice tighter.\n\n MUNRO\n\n has seen it too. And now he sees...\n\n ND REGIMENT OF FOOT\n\n fixing bayonets. A large sergeant unsheathes a two-handed \n claymore, facing the Hurons and other Indians...\n\n TROOPERS\n of the 33rd", ".\n\n OVER MAGUA'S SHOULDER:\n\n MUNRO\n\n his lower body is trapped under his dead horse. Magua leans \n in towards him.\n\n MAGUA\n Grey Hair. I will cut your heart \n from your living chest in front of \n your eyes. As you die, know that I \n will put under the knife your children \n and wipe your seed from this earth \n forever...\n\n Magua pulls his knife and", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", " HAWKEYE\n Many men here, their homes are in \n the path.\n\n MUNRO\n That's all, sir.\n\n Hawkeye is furious. Chingachgook gestures Hawkeye out. He \n leaves Munro's quarters almost knocking over an entering \n Adjutant who backs way up to let Chingachgook pass.\n\n HEYWARD\n Things were done. Nobody was spared...\n\n MUNRO", "with a cool, level stare.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n looks at Munro. More French rounds detonate O.S. What if \n Webb gets here and they need to launch a counter-attack? \n They need every man they have. It's his moment of decision...\n\n HEYWARD\n (to Munro)\n I saw nothing that would lead me to \n the conclusion it was other than a \n raid by savages bent on thievery.\n\n Jack Win", " MUNRO\n My colors?\n\n MONTCALM\n Carry them to England to your King \n with pride.\n\n MUNRO\n Allow me to consult with my officers.\n\n As he turns away something's been disconnected inside Munro \n that can never get put back together. As the men move away \n from the French...\n\n MUNRO\n I have lived to see two things I \n never expected. An Englishman afraid ", "blindness and pride \n of the white man. He believes only \n he knows how to speak falsely to \n make other men do his bidding.\n\n Magua exhales in derision.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FORT, MAIN GATE - DAY\n\n MUNRO\n\n At the end of the column, rides out on his horse. Both sides \n of the gate are jammed with armed French troops standing at \n attention. The French colors and honor", "hand grabs the \n warrior's knife hand in an iron grip. His right hand pulls \n his horse pistol and under his upraised arm fires backward, \n point blank, blowing the Osage off the back of his horse.\n\n WIDER\n\n Just then Munro's mount is shot. His horse rears up, throws \n Munro and falls on him.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n shouting orders over the deafening noise.\n\n HEYWARD\n Second rank fire! Six paces", " fight to the end.\n\n MUNRO\n (to Montcalm)\n You have heard your answer, Monsieur \n le Marquis.\n (salutes)\n\n Munro starts off. Montcalm stops him.\n\n MONTCALM\n Sir.\n (challengingly)\n I am incapable of mistreating brave \n men. I beg you not to sign the death \n warrant of so many until you have \n ", "are a man with a few \n admirable qualities. But taken as a \n whole, I was wrong to have thought \n so highly of you.\n\n Heyward's shot through the heart.\n\n MUNRO\n But the man is guilty of sedition \n and subject to military justice and \n beyond pardon.\n\n CORA\n \"Justice\"? If that's \"justice\"..., \n then the sooner French guns blow the \n ", "keye.\n\n HAWKEYE\n And the blood is on your hands!\n\n Heyward reaches for his sword.\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward)\n I'll have none of that!\n (to colonials)\n Montcalm is a soldier and a gentleman. \n Not a butcher.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Easy for you to suppose. While it is \n their women and children, not yours, \n alone", "as he leans down towards Munro...\n\n MOHAWK & HURON\n\n spin and flail furiously at each other with tomahawks and \n knives. The Huron goes down and then the Mohawk is shot. The \n Huron who shot him is cut down by a Ranger with tomahawk in \n one hand and bayonet in the other. Two Mohawks and three \n Rangers fighting back to back. They become an island swamped \n by Huron and Ottawa: amidst bodies and", "a moment, spins. He has no idea of direction any \n more. Everything is death in strange tableaux. Meanwhile:\n\n MUNRO\n\n hollering\n\n MUNRO\n Cora! Alice!\n\n He cuts down a Huron with his sword who is trying to leap at \n him from the right. An Osage warrior with red scalp-lock \n leaps on the back of Munro's horse, reaching over to stab \n down into Munro's neck. The old man's left" ], [ "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", " MAGUA\n (laughs; sardonic)\n Magua slept hard in the English \n wigwams. And the sticks left their \n mark...\n (pause; for real)\n Magua's village and lodges were burnt. \n Magua's children were killed by the \n English. Magua was taken as a slave \n by the Mohawks who fought for the \n Grey Hair. Magua's wife believed he ", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", "\n SACHEM\n (in Huron; subtitled)\n The tomahawks of your young men have \n been very red.\n\n MAGUA\n (in Huron; subtitled)\n Many of the Yengeese are dead, great \n Sachem.\n (sound dissolve to \n English)\n I have brought three of my prisoners, \n to honor you. Two are the children \n of Munro. Wh", " believes he fooled Magua because he \n is so proud of his cleverness, he is \n blind. But it is the Huron path that \n Magua walks down, not the French \n one... Now, Les Francais, also, fear \n Huron. That is good. When the Huron \n is strong from their fear, we will \n make the terms of trade with Les \n Francais. And we will trade as the \n white man trades. Take land from", "Huron warrior by a \n woven rawhide thong tied to her neck.\n\n MAGUA\n\n is imperturbable.\n\n HURONS\n\n move quickly down into a ravine.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is shoved forward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n RUNNING FEET\n\n Long, loping strides.\n\n HAWKEYE & UNCAS\n\n cover ground like long-distance", "- children of \n the white war chief - will burn in \n our fires so all can share in this.\n\n The sachem considers this. Then he looks up and sees something \n beyond Magua.\n\n MAGUA\n\n senses the sachem's eye line...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n unarmed, walking through the Hurons. A young boy rushes at \n him. Hawkeye, at the last possible second, dodges. Others \n catch and restrain the boy. The Hur", "Magua's \n heart is twisted. He would make \n himself into what twisted him. A \n Dog, become Master of Dogs. But are \n Hurons dogs? ...Magua's way is false. \n It is like the white sickness. Magua's \n way will bring only sadness and shame. \n Is there another way? I don't know.\n (pauses)\n I am Nathaniel of the Yengeese; \n Hawkey", "ieves... I \n spit on you!\n\n Those Hurons who hear, do so in deadly, boding silence. Magua \n and his fourteen hard core braves start out as...\n\n SACHEM\n\n heard Heyward's translation. He looks at Heyward, then looks \n at Hawkeye and he nods his head.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n sees this. His eyes go to Cora. They've stopped dragging her \n towards the fire pit.\n\n Hawkeye steps forward", ".\n\n OVER MAGUA'S SHOULDER:\n\n MUNRO\n\n his lower body is trapped under his dead horse. Magua leans \n in towards him.\n\n MAGUA\n Grey Hair. I will cut your heart \n from your living chest in front of \n your eyes. As you die, know that I \n will put under the knife your children \n and wipe your seed from this earth \n forever...\n\n Magua pulls his knife and", "PRISONERS\n\n being assembled, their hands shackled. Hawkeye is among twelve \n or thirteen. He stands erect, walking out of the gate. The \n French are starting to pour in to loot the interior.\n\n Hawkeye looks to his left about twenty paces in front of him \n and sees...\n\n UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n on the other side of the column. Chingachgook cradles Killdeer \n as well as his own musket. They fall back", " CUT TO:\n\f\n\n EXT. HURON VILLAGE - DAY\n\n MAGUA \n\n MAGUA\n ... the earth was pale. Our tomahawks \n were bright. Now they are dull from \n war. And the Huron rich with the \n trophies of honor... Magua will sell \n the English officer to Les Francais \n and the reward is my gift to you, \n wise one... The women", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", " Heart. Give Magua new heart.\n\n Magua totally disdains the Englishman and walks away from \n him, starting up a steeper forested hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - TWILIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE, UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Running cross-country after the Huron column. They leap over \n fallen logs and keep going.\n\n FRONTAL: HAWKEYE\n\n breathing hard, his lips are", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n HURONS \n\n Move along animal paths.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n struggle through the branches of trees. No one helps them. \n When they fall behind, they are pushed forward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n badly beaten, bound, staggers ahead to get behind Maqua. \n Then:\n\n HEYWARD\n If Magua give women to Yengeese ", "their useless muskets as clubs or with fixed bayonets - \n as the smoke and fog swirls among the men - fighting for \n their lives...\n\n MAGUA\n\n glides through the scenes, striking and hunting. Some of his \n coterie of braves near him.\n\n He sees...\n\n BLONDE WOMAN\n\n hugging the ground in fear. Magua throws her over. It's not \n Alice Munro. It's a woman protecting her baby. Magua walks \n on", "\n Will the Sachem's judgment be honored? Will some warriors \n hack down Hawkeye & Cora? As they go...\n\n CORA\n\n moves towards her sister. But Hawkeye holds her tightly as \n they retreat.\n\n CORA'S POV: ALICE\n\n with Magua's group crosses the path. He drags Alice behind \n him like baggage. She regains her feet. Magua is oblivious \n to her. He's heading towards the plateau", ".\n\n Magua starts towards Hawkeye, his tomahawk slipping into his \n hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Sachem)\n I come to you unarmed and in peace \n to unstop your ears, wise one. Because \n the Hurons are mislead by the words \n of the wolf who's never spoken the \n truth.\n\n Sachem gestures with his hand to Magua. Magua reluctantly \n stops advancing" ], [ "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", "\n HEYWARD\n Colonel Munro sent him. He was one \n of our Mohawk allies.\n\n HAWKEYE\n He is Huron and nothing else.\n (checking the Munro \n girls are not too \n close)\n Why would he want to murder the girl?\n\n HEYWARD\n What?!\n\n HAWKEYE\n Dark haired...\n\n HEYWARD\n Miss", " CORA\n No, Duncan!\n\n Duncan ignores her.\n\n HEYWARD'S MUSKET\n\n is jerked from his hands.\n\n HAWKEYE\n ...case your aim is any better'n \n your judgment.\n\n He's drawn his sword, reflexively. Hawkeye flips the musket \n around one-handed. It's pointed at Heyward's chest. And \n Hawkeye FIRES, killing an attacking Huron behind Hey", "\n\n HEYWARD\n (suddenly tired)\n Ambush... on the George Road. This \n Magua led us into it.\n (pause)\n ...eighteen killed. It's these men \n who saved us. They guided us here...\n\n MUNRO\n Thank you. How can I reward you?\n\n No answer. Then...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Help ourselves to a few horns from \n your powder stores", "he's looking \n at her.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n pursues two fleeing Hurons up the incline. Two strides gain \n him the first man, who he hamstrings and runs over to pursue \n the second up the hill... as...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n in the confused melee, grabs a found musket and aims it at \n an Indian. We recognize that he's aiming at Chingachgook \n pursuing the second Huron up the hill...\n\n ", "ward. As \n Heyward spins...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK'S WAR CLUB\n\n flashes up the hill. It cleaves the second man's back and \n bowls him over. Chingachgook retrieves his club as his \n scalping knife slashes down...\n\n UNCAS\n\n scalps the man he killed. Chingachgook dispatches the Huron \n he hamstrung.\n\n WIDE\n\n Sudden silence. Heyward's motionless. The women", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", " their blood running and won their respect. They step aside \n and nod to him. Heyward keeps walking. He is home.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. MUNRO'S BEDCHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n DOOR\n\n A knock and Heyward enters.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n Alice is in her father's bed. Cora is collecting and tearing \n linen into strips for bandaging.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora...", ". He looks at Cora.\n\n Back to Chingachgook. Chingachgook states something terse in \n Mohican. Hawkeye agrees. Heyward's confused. He doesn't know \n what they're talking about. Cora has understood Chingachgook's \n intent perfectly.\n\n CORA\n Yes. Go ahead.\n\n HEYWARD\n (explodes)\n What the bloody hell plan is this?\n\n HAWKEY", "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "hand grabs the \n warrior's knife hand in an iron grip. His right hand pulls \n his horse pistol and under his upraised arm fires backward, \n point blank, blowing the Osage off the back of his horse.\n\n WIDER\n\n Just then Munro's mount is shot. His horse rears up, throws \n Munro and falls on him.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n shouting orders over the deafening noise.\n\n HEYWARD\n Second rank fire! Six paces", ", upending one Huron and lunges with his bayonet in his \n left towards another. But this Huron easily slips the thrust \n and slams Heyward with his rifle butt.\n\n BRITISH\n\n dead and dying.\n\n AMBROSE\n\n blood gushing from his chest wound, fires his pistol, dropping \n a Huron; slashes a second with his sword. Then he's chopped \n down. Hurons begin scalping the British while four race \n towards Heyward and the two women.\n", "\n CORA'S\n appalled.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (turns)\n Clear it up any?\n\n HEYWARD\n (loud)\n I owe you gratitude or I'd call you \n out!\n\n HAWKEYE\n (low)\n Do not let gratitude get in the way...\n\n Cora's hand holds back Heyward's sword arm because suddenly \n Chingachgook lo", "oms over him.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Yengeese no good in woods. Make more \n noise, I kill him.\n\n Heyward spins. Hawkeye coolly watches Cora. Her attitude is \n hostile; aligned with Heyward. He turns away. Meanwhile...\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops, alarmed. Something in the air bothers him. Hawkeye \n smells it, too.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n is", ", war clubs and point-blank musket fire.\n\n ALICE\n\n on the ground, screaming insanely, covered by Cora who's \n protecting her little sister, and...\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n horse shot from beneath him, the animal folding, falling \n straight to the earth, and...\n\n MAGUA\n\n shoots Ambrose in the chest, and...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n by the Munro daughters spins, swinging his fusil like a ball-\n bat", "\n two, present! Rank two, hold!\n\n He grabs a partially loaded musket, the ramrod still in the \n barrel. They're taking fire.\n\n Men are dying. They're being pushed back.\n\n AN ABNAKI\n\n wearing a large cross, attacks Heyward from the side. One-\n handed, Heyward fires the musket into the man's chest, sending \n the ramrod through him. Then Heyward's shot in the thigh and \n a thrown tomahawk hits", " HAWKEYE\n Many men here, their homes are in \n the path.\n\n MUNRO\n That's all, sir.\n\n Hawkeye is furious. Chingachgook gestures Hawkeye out. He \n leaves Munro's quarters almost knocking over an entering \n Adjutant who backs way up to let Chingachgook pass.\n\n HEYWARD\n Things were done. Nobody was spared...\n\n MUNRO", "and Uncas.\n\n HURON'S\n\n not sure where the shots came from. Suddenly Chingachgook \n slams him, head first into the ravine with the war club. He \n didn't even slow down.\n\n HURON\n\n warrior spins. Uncas tomahawks his shoulder. The Huron swings \n downwards. Uncas ducks beneath the swing and slashes his \n throat, sending him downhill into CAMERA as...\n\n HAWKEYE'S", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook," ], [ ", thinking of it in Boston and \n London...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Sorry to disappoint you...\n\n CORA\n (eyes downcast)\n On the contrary. It is more deeply \n stirring... to my blood...\n (then up into his \n eyes)\n ...than any imagining could possibly \n have been...\n\n She closes her eyes, turns slightly and prepares to sleep. \n Hawkeye is the one", "a new wind blowing through a new land, a new self-\n determination... She's drawn to this rough yet graceful man \n with his direct manner. Hawkeye settles against a wall. She \n leans next to him.\n\n Their shoulders touch.\n\n CORA\n\n To her everything about him seems to be somehow right. She's \n discovered that the passions and outrage that move him, move \n her... And her readiness to give herself to what stirs the \n deepest resonances of her soul is", "the shadows, leaning against the wall, searching... we \n sense she's been looking for him. He comes up to her. She \n turns in surprise.\n\n CLOSER\n\n Somehow she breathes easier because he's there. She's in a \n white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Hawkeye leads her \n away from some of the people.\n\n CORA & HAWKEYE\n\n Hawkeye takes Cora's hand. Cora is awakening to a new spirit, \n ", "\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n throws Heyward a blanket. Heyward spreads the blanket below \n the top of the mound and - maintaining silence - he gestures \n for Cora & Alice to rest there.\n\n ALICE'S HEAD\n\n hits the blanket. She curls into a fetal position and she's \n out. Heyward is nearby on watch.\n\n Hawkeye has taken a position two-thirds of the way around \n the crescent shaped mound.\n\n Cora has sought", "her \n shoulders and whispers to her. We don't hear what he says. \n Cora drops to her knees and places her hands over her eyes \n and face like a little girl trying to make something bad go \n away.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n Leads her to a depression, his arm around her shoulders, her \n face covered and she cries softly into his shoulder.\n\n EXTREME CLOSE UP: CORA\n\n says into Hawkeye's ear, after she looks O.S....", "the same as his.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n looks at her. She's beautiful in the firelight. Cora's eyes \n find his and she folds into his arms. His lips find hers and \n tears stream down her face. She's suffused with an elation \n she can't explain. In the night before doomsday a romance is \n born in rebellion amid the huddled people in this small \n stockade ripped from the black earth of the forests of a \n wild continent.\n\n ", "\n\n HAWKEYE\n (contained)\n Miss Munro.\n (pause)\n They are not strangers.... And they \n stay as they lay...!\n\n CORA\n\n realizes Hawkeye knew these people and is deeply affected. \n She also realizes for the first time this is a whole new \n world with dynamics and complexities, behavior and rhythms \n she doesn't understand. He turns away from her and walks on. \n She hesit", "\n explode. One soldier dashes to rip out the fuse. As his hand \n is inches away... EXPLOSION.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. STOCKADE - DAWN - LATER\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n protects Cora through the bars as she half sleeps through \n the muffled roar. Then the thundering stops. Hawkeye seperates \n himself from her and crosses to the window.\n\n EXT. FORT, MAIN G", "dress that she now uses to bandage Uncas. We \n don't know why; neither does Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Uncas)\n You 'bout done holdin' hands with \n Miss Munro?\n\n Uncas laughs, looking from her to Hawkeye. Then he's up and \n he hurts. Cora starts to tend another wounded man. As they \n start out, Hawkeye hesitates. Sensing it, Cora turns.\n\n ", " Cora's pale smile.\n\n CORA\n They're going to hang you.\n (pause; soft)\n Why didn't you leave when you had \n the chance?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Because what I am interested in is \n right here...\n\n CORA\n What would you have me do?\n\n He touches her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Webb's reinforcements will arrive or ", "D\n Coward! Coward back at the fort. \n Coward here.\n\n Hawkeye uses discipline not to kill the man.\n\n CORA\n You try. With all you have. To save \n yourself. If the worst happens, and \n only one of us survives, something \n of the other does, too...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. NORTH FISSURE - NIGHT\n\n UNCAS \n\n List", "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", ". She moves next to Hawkeye. He takes \n her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE & CORA\n\n HAWKEYE\n Will you go back to England?\n\n CORA\n I have nothing to go back for.\n\n Long pause.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Then will you stay in America?\n\n She turns to face him.\n\n HAWKEYE\n And will you be my wife?\n\n Pause.\n\n ", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "\n at least entitled to a Christian \n burial!\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shaking his head)\n Let us go, miss.\n\n CORA\n I will not. I have seen the face of \n war before, Mr. Poe, but never war \n made on women and children. And almost \n as cruel is your indifference.\n\n Hawkeye turns back and rapidly approaches her. She takes a \n step back, fearful.", "\n Hawkeye shakes his head.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Got a reason to stay.\n\n JACK\n That reason wear a blue dress and \n work in the surgery?\n\n LOW LAUGHTER\n\n HAWKEYE\n (dry)\n It does and it is a better lookin' \n reason than you, Jack Winthrop.\n (more laughs)\n Push hard, 'cos you got to clear the ", "\n French outpost by dawn.\n (sticks out his hand \n and grasps Winthrop's)\n Good luck, Jack.\n\n The men split up...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n FIRE - HAWKEYE\n\n wanders among the dancers and musicians clustered in groups, \n lit by the firelight.\n\n Someone catches his eye and he moves in that direction...\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: CORA\n\n in", " Her body shudders. Her terror's total. He tries to restrain \n and calm her. She won't let him. Then her mouth seeks his \n and in the passion of despair and fear and wanting life, she \n holds him between her thighs. And Uncas is confused, but \n Alice whispers his name and he responds. He loves her in the \n half-light.\n\n UNCAS\n\n his hand buried in her hair irradiated by the moon, then she \n seems to reach some emotional clim", "\n Ranger whispers something inaudible. The Ottawa chief shakes \n his head, \"Non. Pas possible...\"\n\n And means it. They retreat.\n\n SEPERATE SHOTS: HAWKEYE, UNCAS, CHINGACHGOOK, CORA\n\n tensely monitor the Ottawa retreat.\n\n UNCAS & ALICE\n\n He slowly removes his hand from her mouth. She's a little \n shy, then she looks up, catches his eyes. Then she averts \n her", "\n not. If they do not arrive, the \n fort will fall. If that happens, \n stay close to your father. The French \n will protect the officer class among \n the English.\n\n CORA\n No. I will find you.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Do not.\n (pause)\n Promise me.\n\n Cora drops her forehead to Hawkeye's hands wrapped around \n the bars. She acquiesces," ], [ "\n\n underlit by the red firelight. They are a disposable people, \n a diverse plurality stuck in a postage stamp-size fort in an \n ocean of forest, locked into mortal deadly conflict because \n of the policies of cold and distant European monarchs.\n\n A PLACE A LITTLE DISTANT FROM THE FIRE\n\n We can barely make out the eyes and faces of a number of men \n behind logs, crates and new wreckage from the day's \n bombardment.\n\n ", "\n for war. Their Latinate voluptuousness \n combines with their Gallic laziness \n and the result is: they would rather \n make love with their faces than fight.\n\n Webb's Adjutants laugh uproariously at his wit. Heyward's \n stiff, perfunctory smile. He's been made the butt of the \n joke. He does not share Webb's derisive view of the French.\n\n Webb doesn't like Heyward", "WARD\n\n from horseback aims his horse pistol, FIRES...\n\n AN ATTACKING HURON\n\n leaping at him past Alice & Cora drops.\n\n MULE\n\n with baggage crashes off, down the ravine. Another two \n Redcoats drop. Nine left.\n\n Then eight.\n\n AMBROSE\n\n AMBROSE\n Fire!!\n\n A musket volley as eight muskets go off as one shot, sending \n a lead sc", "as they back up.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n smashing his war club straight down on a Huron, reaches for \n the man's musket and shoots another. Then he sees...\n\n SMOKE DRIFTING OVER WATER\n\n It's glass-smooth. And the bows are barely visible of three \n or four Huron war canoes.\n\n THE SHALLOWS\n\n HAWKEYE, CHINGACHGOOK, UNCAS, CORA, ALICE, THE R", "ured laborers, farmers exiled by \n economics or religious persecution, frontier hunters and \n trappers... working people.\n\n ONGEWASGONE\n (continues)\n Now Mohawk will fight Huron and Les \n Francais.\n\n My brothers have asked me to lead them in this war so I speak \n for the Twin River Council.\n\n The importance of this commitment is apparent to the \n lieutenant.\n\n LIEUTENANT\n His Maj", "with a cool, level stare.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n looks at Munro. More French rounds detonate O.S. What if \n Webb gets here and they need to launch a counter-attack? \n They need every man they have. It's his moment of decision...\n\n HEYWARD\n (to Munro)\n I saw nothing that would lead me to \n the conclusion it was other than a \n raid by savages bent on thievery.\n\n Jack Win", "ARTIN, translates.\n\n HENRI\n (O.S. in French)\n\n MARTIN\n (translates)\n My father says he was driven out of \n France by the black robe priests and \n he would fight them now but he lost \n his arm and so I will go in his place.\n\n Meanwhile...\n\n ONGEWASGONE\n\n is an unusually large Mohawk in a blue match coat with a \n little girl holding his", "shouldered)\n\n HEYWARD\n Fire!!!\n\n Like one shot, lightening, smoke and .65 caliber death screams \n from the first two ranks like a scythe, cutting down...\n\n REVERSE: FRENCH\n\n Fourteen wounded or killed...\n\n 62ND REGIMENT OF FOOT\n\n HEYWARD\n\n exposed. He's oblivious to incoming rounds. A piece of hat \n is blown off, epaulet is shot off. The", "V: CASE\n\n an enameled portrait of a dark-haired young woman.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n as a soldier is militarily first-rate in his milieu: the \n open battlefields of Europe.\n\n Right now, however, he is about to enter the forests of North \n America. He closes his clasp and glances out the window as \n we enter Albany and as a facade of buildings & people pass.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. BRITISH H", " light the battlefield revealing the French trenches.\n\n ENGLISH GUN CREW\n\n excited. Colonial militia and Mohawk snipers fire their \n rifles. The British gun crew scrambles to adjust their 18 \n pounders.\n\n FRENCH BATTERY #1\n\n FIRES.\n\n FRENCH BATTERY #2\n\n FIRES.\n\n EXT. FORT, WEST BATTERY\n\n TRACKING. French cannon FI", "nods. Then HEAVY SHELLING commences. \n Cora & Hawkeye look up. Mortar bombs begin striking the \n fortress. Still dark. The final French bombardment has \n started.\n\n CORA\n The whole world's on fire, isn't it?\n\n A pause.\n\n HAWKEYE\n This part of it sure is...\n\n Reaching through the bars set in the thick door, their hands \n clasp each others. On that", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their", "drawn back, sweat stains his \n buckskins.\n\n PROFILE: UNCAS\n\n runs. Then sees something.\n\n BENT BRANCH\n\n where Cora & Alice were struggling up the animal path.\n\n REAR SHOT\n\n as they race across a stream away from us after the war party \n and into the night...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - NIGHT\n\n CORA \n\n Supporting Alice, is dragged forward by a", "\n\n Tries to return fire but can't under the heavy French \n bombardment. The French mortar bomb arcs in and EXPLODES \n smoke, flame and shrapnel, wiping out most of the crew. The \n fortress is under the heaviest attack we've seen. Wounded \n are in shock or terrorized. Another mortar bomb arcs in and \n explodes part of a building and casement, starting a fire.\n\n Another lands in the grounds. People scatter. It doesn't ", "then, prepares and fires covering his \n partner's advance. Leaping fallen trees and boulders, they're \n athletic, fast and rapidly closing.\n\n Even though the disciplined English regulars are a killing \n machine, we now see their tactics in the dense forest are \n grossly inferior to the Hurons'...\n\n AMBROSE\n Present!!\n\n CORA\n\n covers Alice with her body, holding the reins of their bolting \n horses.\n\n HEY", "newly arrived thirteen inch mortars.\n\n MORTAR ONE\n\n The flash-hole is primed. The burning fuse is jammed into \n the bomb. The primer charge is lit off and the crew ducks as \n the crude iron belches red flame and black smoke into the \n lightening sky. The second mortar ROARS. Then a THIRD.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FORT WILLIAM HENRY - DAWN\n\n ENGLISH CANNON CREW", "and Mohawks locked in struggle with Hurons. Cora's dress is \n torn. She holds Alice to her. There's a pistol in Cora's \n hand.\n\n ONE HURON\n\n scalping a prone soldier, rips the trophy from his head, \n turns and faces us.\n\n CORA\n shoots him in the face.\n\n EXTREMELY CLOSE: ALICE\n\n and her eyes take it all in. And her affect starts to flatten.", "\n explode. One soldier dashes to rip out the fuse. As his hand \n is inches away... EXPLOSION.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. STOCKADE - DAWN - LATER\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n protects Cora through the bars as she half sleeps through \n the muffled roar. Then the thundering stops. Hawkeye seperates \n himself from her and crosses to the window.\n\n EXT. FORT, MAIN G", "PIECE OF TAN\n\n two hundred and fifty yards away, a few square inches buried \n in the foliage...\n\n SUDDENLY HE STOPS\n\n Killdeer's at his shoulder...\n\n HAWKEYE'S THUMB\n\n cocks the lock holding the piece of flint: click.\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops dead, holding out his hand... no sound.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n slips through young trees and stops, shouldering his \n smooth", "these next words into her brain.\n\n CORA\n What is it?\n\n HAWKEYE\n I don't know. Whatever happens you \n stay with your father. You stay among \n the officers.\n\n Cora looks up at Hawkeye. We feel forboding. O.S. are heard \n drums...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FRENCH LINES - DAY\n\n MUNRO, HEYWAR" ], [ " CORA\n Yes.\n\n They hold each other's eyes. She searches his face.\n\n CORA\n Where will we go?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Winter with the Delaware, my father's \n cousins. And in the spring, cross \n the Ohio and look for land to settle \n with my father in a new place called \n Can-tuck-ee.\n\n They move next to Chingachgook. He senses", "are frozen, \n as terrified of the savages and apparent half-breed rescuers \n as they were of those who attacked them.\n\n ALICE\n\n Cora, holding her, is stunned but functioning. Moments ago \n both women were clean and demure. Now their riding dresses \n are torn, mud-stained, blood-spattered and their baggage is \n gone.\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n crossed to his slaughtered soldiers. Moments ago they were a \n testament to", "William \n Henry?\n\n HAWKEYE\n No.\n\n HEYWARD\n Fort Edward, then?\n\n HAWKEYE\n No. Headin' west. To Can-tuck-ee.\n\n HEYWARD\n I thought all our colonial scouts \n were in the militia?\n\n Off to the side, Uncas smiles at the idea.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I ain't your \"sc", "lives \"by \n your leave.\" ...They hack it out of \n the wilderness with their own two \n hands, burying their dead and their \n children along the way.\n\n HEYWARD\n (distant)\n You are defending him because you've \n become infatuated with him.\n\n Cora is having her intelligence written off as a hormone \n attack. She contains her fury.\n\n CORA\n Duncan, you", "but attentive, abruptly stops. The \n others freeze in their tracks.\n\n Chingachgook sees and then stoops to examine...\n\n ROCK\n\n under the water in the stream. It's been turned from its \n bed. Chingachgook finds another. Uncas, moving up on his \n flank, climbs the bank and moves off into the trees, searches \n and then he gestures... he's found another sign of something.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n has headed off further", "they're beside \n him. Hawkeye's arm is around her shoulders.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n The frontier moves with the sun and \n pushes the red man of the wilderness \n forests in front of it. Until one \n day there will be nowhere left. \n Then our race will be no more, or be \n not us... The frontier place is for \n people like my white son and his \n woman and their children.\n\n ", "as they back up.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n smashing his war club straight down on a Huron, reaches for \n the man's musket and shoots another. Then he sees...\n\n SMOKE DRIFTING OVER WATER\n\n It's glass-smooth. And the bows are barely visible of three \n or four Huron war canoes.\n\n THE SHALLOWS\n\n HAWKEYE, CHINGACHGOOK, UNCAS, CORA, ALICE, THE R", "into a deeper stand of trees.\n\n CORA (O.S.)\n Alice, did you see that...?\n\n CORA'S\n reverie's broken by Heyward entering \n the frame.\n\n CORA\n Alice?\n\n Alice rouses from fatigue.\n\n HEYWARD\n Are you alright?\n\n ALICE\n Can we rest soon?\n\n HEYWARD\n Abs", "\n Narragansetts. The tight traveling dress reveals that Cora, \n two or three years older than Alice, is fuller and more \n mature. All three ride to the front of the column. The baggage \n horses and mule are in the gap between the two companies.\n\n MAGUA\n\n cradling his musket.\n\n REAR SHOT: THE COLUMN\n\n down the path that leads into the wall of forest looks \n impressive.\n\n WIDER: THE COLUMN\n\n march", ".\n\n She's still unsettled.\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Duncan!\n\n REVERSE: ALICE MUNRO\n\n eighteen years old, white-blonde hair, wide blue eyes. She's \n effervescent and runs to hug him. Heyward is taken aback by \n her enthusiasm and laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n My God, you've grown up.\n\n ALICE\n We leave in the morning?!\n\n", "They're cold & full of greed...\n\n JACK\n Few'd deny that? Where you headin'?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Trap over the fall and winter among \n the Delawares in Can-tuck-ee.\n\n UNCAS\n So I can find a woman and make Mohican \n children so our father will leave my \n brother & me in peace.\n\n Alexandria laughs. So do Hawkeye & Chingachg", "E\n This is it, as far as we can go... \n If we're lucky, they'll be figurin' \n we can't have come this way and \n must've beached our canoes and headed \n cross land. If we're very lucky, \n they'll figure we went over the falls.\n\n HEYWARD\n Then what?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Then we take the south rim down the \n mountain", "ured laborers, farmers exiled by \n economics or religious persecution, frontier hunters and \n trappers... working people.\n\n ONGEWASGONE\n (continues)\n Now Mohawk will fight Huron and Les \n Francais.\n\n My brothers have asked me to lead them in this war so I speak \n for the Twin River Council.\n\n The importance of this commitment is apparent to the \n lieutenant.\n\n LIEUTENANT\n His Maj", "ua dies in the dust.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n watching Chingachgook's heaving back. It's over.\n\n CORA\n\n alone, kneeling in the meadow. Her eyes downcast...\n\n WIDE REAR SHOT\n\n FADE OUT:\n\n FADE IN:\n\n EXT. - MOUNTAIN TOP - NEXT DAY\n\n Chingachgook's at the edge, facing the endless rolling forests \n to the west.", "ates a moment.\n\n WIDE ON THE SMALL CLEARING IN FRONT OF THE FARMHOUSE\n\n as Chingachgook and Hawkeye, extremely alert and cradling \n their cocked flintlocks, walk to camera, eyes sweeping the \n forest perimeter; they're followed by Cora, Heyward helping \n Alice and Uncas as rearguard.\n\n The ruined cabin and the dead dream of a family smolders \n behind them.\n\n CUT TO", "E\n (to Cora)\n In this there is a chance. If I live, \n I can try to free you. If we don't \n go, there is no powder, there's too \n many of them. Though my heart would \n keep me here, in that there is no \n chance. None. I can do nothing. Do \n you understand?\n\n CORA\n Yes. I want you to go.\n\n HEYWAR", "ose scalp hangs on my \n lodge pole. And whose heart I cut \n from his chest.\n\n Now we see Cora on the ground. Defeat & fear are held in \n place by her determination.\n\n Alice looks around, in another place. Heyward's hands are \n bound between his back with a piece of wood wedged through \n his elbows.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. DIFFERENT FOREST - DAY\n\n WIDE FR", "PIECE OF TAN\n\n two hundred and fifty yards away, a few square inches buried \n in the foliage...\n\n SUDDENLY HE STOPS\n\n Killdeer's at his shoulder...\n\n HAWKEYE'S THUMB\n\n cocks the lock holding the piece of flint: click.\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops dead, holding out his hand... no sound.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n slips through young trees and stops, shouldering his \n smooth", "the interior...\n\n CAMERON\n Alexandria! Set three more places.\n (to the fence)\n How is Chingachgook, then?\n\n Behind him, emerging from the dark trees are Hawkeye, Uncas, \n cradling flint locks, blankets and packs over their shoulders, \n leading a mule laden with skins and the elk carcass. Crossing \n the splitrail fence...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n The Master", "and it's 12 miles cross \n country to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n And if we're unlucky?\n\n HAWKEYE\n You will have to forego the pleasure \n of hangin' me.\n\n REVERSE: WIDE\n\n Hawkeye helps Cora; Heyward, the Ranger. Chingachgook carries \n Alice, down the rockface into a cave. We hear a distant ROAR \n reverberating off the" ], [ " CUT TO:\n\n INT. MUNRO'S QUARTERS - NIGHT\n\n MUNRO\n (embracing his \n daughters; softer)\n Told you to stay away from this hell \n hole! Why did you disobey me?\n\n CORA\n When? How?\n\n MUNRO\n My letter...\n\n CORA\n There was none!\n\n MUN", " HAWKEYE\n Dropped in to see how you boys is \n doin'.\n\n COLONEL MUNRO\n\n running from his quarters is shocked to see them.\n\n ALICE\n (hysterical)\n Papa, Papa!!\n\n MUNRO\n (enraged)\n Why are you here?!\n\n Cora is stunned. Alice is decimated by her father's anger. \n Munro sees and whips off his coat to cover them", " to him. Munro holds her tighter. Then he whispers something \n to her. She nods her head. And Cora takes her.\n\n They exit.\n\n MUNRO\n\n is moved beyond words by his daughters' presence. There's a \n break, a pause...\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward over table \n map)\n What a place for them...\n\n HEYWARD\n Might I enquire after the situation, \n sir", "the column...\n\n EXT. FORESTED SLOPE - MAGUA\n\n charging down the hill... with his coterie of twenty Huron \n warriors, heading for the area in which he saw Munro.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n at the head of the disintegrating column. Cora's holding \n Alice's head to her bosom, covering her ears as if to protect \n her from the sounds.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n shouting orders.\n\n SERGEANT MA", "and takes \n Alice under his arm. Bombardment resumes. Alice clings while \n they race for the cover of his quarters:]\n\n MUNRO\n (to Heyward; re: Alice \n & Cora)\n Why did you allow them to come?... \n And where the bloody hell are my \n reinforcements!!\n\n They race into the yellow lantern light of Munro's quarters \n and slam and bolt the heavy door. Heyward's confused...\n\n ", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their", "\n Narragansetts. The tight traveling dress reveals that Cora, \n two or three years older than Alice, is fuller and more \n mature. All three ride to the front of the column. The baggage \n horses and mule are in the gap between the two companies.\n\n MAGUA\n\n cradling his musket.\n\n REAR SHOT: THE COLUMN\n\n down the path that leads into the wall of forest looks \n impressive.\n\n WIDER: THE COLUMN\n\n march", ". An adjutant \n comes and goes.\n\n Heyward and Munro are sensitive to appearances in front of \n the adjutant. Cora couldn't give a damn.\n\n MUNRO\n The man encouraged the colonials to \n desert in this very room, in my \n presence. He is guilty of sedition \n and must be tried and hanged like \n any other criminal, regardless of \n what he did for my children.\n\n CORA\n", "iously. Some are cocking flintlocks.\n\n MUNRO\n\n gallops his horse away from Cora and Alice towards the scene \n of the last attack. We hear him from the distance ordering...\n\n MUNRO\n Do not break ranks! I want these \n ranks to hold...!\n\n Cora's frightened.\n\n HAWKEYE'S\n\n frustrated. He saw Munro leave Cora. He knows events have a \n momentum and it's accelerating.\n\n CH", "I inquire if General \n Webb has heard from Colonel Munro's \n daughters? I was to rendezvous with \n them in Albany and escort them to \n the fort.\n\n WEBB\n Yes. You may.\n (to Magua, after a \n glance at Heyward)\n You there. What does Munro call you?\n (to Heyward)\n The \"Scotsman\" has sent one of his \n Indian allies to", "Cora Munro. He never set eyes \n on her before today.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No blood vengeance? No re-proach or \n insult?\n\n HEYWARD\n Of course not!\n (pause)\n And how is it you were nearby?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Came across the war party, tracked \n 'em.\n\n HEYWARD\n Then you're assigned to Fort", "\n HEYWARD\n Colonel Munro sent him. He was one \n of our Mohawk allies.\n\n HAWKEYE\n He is Huron and nothing else.\n (checking the Munro \n girls are not too \n close)\n Why would he want to murder the girl?\n\n HEYWARD\n What?!\n\n HAWKEYE\n Dark haired...\n\n HEYWARD\n Miss", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", " ALICE\n Nonsense. Papa wouldn't have sent \n for us if it were dangerous.\n\n Alice takes Hewyward's hand. Cora pours Heyward more tea. \n The white sheets billow.\n\n AMBROSE\n (O.S. - barks)\n Atten-shun!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BRITISH ARMY HQ - DAY\n\n TWENTY BRITISH REGULAR", ", war clubs and point-blank musket fire.\n\n ALICE\n\n on the ground, screaming insanely, covered by Cora who's \n protecting her little sister, and...\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n horse shot from beneath him, the animal folding, falling \n straight to the earth, and...\n\n MAGUA\n\n shoots Ambrose in the chest, and...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n by the Munro daughters spins, swinging his fusil like a ball-\n bat", "these next words into her brain.\n\n CORA\n What is it?\n\n HAWKEYE\n I don't know. Whatever happens you \n stay with your father. You stay among \n the officers.\n\n Cora looks up at Hawkeye. We feel forboding. O.S. are heard \n drums...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FRENCH LINES - DAY\n\n MUNRO, HEYWAR", "Heyward does not look at him.\n\n FRONT OF COLUMN - CORA WITH ALICE\n\n on the back of a mare. Alice, living through a wide-awake \n nightmare, is huddled under the arm of her sister. They ride \n behind the standard bearers. In the B.G. her father is seen \n approaching and takes his position at their side. Cora looks \n down the column, sheilding her eyes against the sun. We know \n who she's looking for... Hawkeye.\n\n", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "MUNROS\n\n Cora turns again to look for Hawkeye.\n\n CLOSER: CORA\n\n doesn't see him, but something else has caught her eye.\n\n YOUNG HURON\n\n running toward the column. Just one man. No musket. He's \n running and whooping like a dog charging from his master's \n front yard. Why?\n\n CLOSER\n\n the Huron arrives at the column, his tomahawk swings into \n his hand and" ], [ "stepping in the stream bed instead \n of on stones. The others follow. Hawkeye looks at Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n conforms. He's ill at ease not being in command, following \n the lead of some half-Indian frontiersman through a foreign \n wilderness.\n\n HEYWARD\n How far is it, scout?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Day and a half\n (pause)\n Where did you get... the guide?\n", "eyes forward)\n Monsieur, the fort is yours.\n\n MID-COLUMN - ON HEYWARD\n\n marching with his 33rd Regiment of Foot well beyond the fort. \n The French troops have thinned out. Repressing shame, his \n backbone is rigid, his face is straight ahead. The 33rd \n marches in perfect cadence to the drum. In the B.G. Munro on \n his horse passes Heyward as he rides towards the front of \n his column.", "\n\n HEYWARD\n (suddenly tired)\n Ambush... on the George Road. This \n Magua led us into it.\n (pause)\n ...eighteen killed. It's these men \n who saved us. They guided us here...\n\n MUNRO\n Thank you. How can I reward you?\n\n No answer. Then...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Help ourselves to a few horns from \n your powder stores", "Heyward a musket. Cora & Alice look towards \n Heyward. He looks at them: the women are totally terrified \n and do not move.\n\n HAWKEYE\n If we are goin' to take you, we need \n to move. Fast... And the fort is \n well off our course. So if you all \n rather wait for the next Huron war \n party to come by, we'll be on our \n way.\n\n Heyward quickly decides", "and it's 12 miles cross \n country to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n And if we're unlucky?\n\n HAWKEYE\n You will have to forego the pleasure \n of hangin' me.\n\n REVERSE: WIDE\n\n Hawkeye helps Cora; Heyward, the Ranger. Chingachgook carries \n Alice, down the rockface into a cave. We hear a distant ROAR \n reverberating off the", "in.\n\n TORCH LIGHT\n\n the group moves through the long, dank, tunnel. Enlisted men \n escorting them. Another torch from the other direction: \n CAPTAIN BEAMS is revealed.\n\n HEYWARD\n I'm Major Duncan Heyward!\n\n BEAMS\n Captain Jeffrey Beams. We didn't \n think you'd make it through!\n\n HEYWARD\n Where's Colonel Munro? His", " Poltroon's house. A company of the \n 33rd will accompany you and Magua \n will show you the way.\n\n HEYWARD\n By your leave, sir.\n\n Webb holds Heyward a moment.\n\n WEBB\n (to Adjutants)\n Explain to the Major we care little \n about toying with colonial militia \n because we have little to fear from \n the French. They have not the nature", "men, Munro, Heyward, two adjutants, one \n lieutenant of Rangers.\n\n MUNRO\n (to Jack)\n I must receive proof more conclusive \n than Mr. Poe's opinion before I weaken \n our defenses by allowing militia to \n withdraw.\n\n JACK\n Chingachgook's of the same opinion. \n Taken together, that's gospel. Your \n fort will stand or fall depending on", "a steep forested slope in the heart of the \n Adirondacks.\n\n CORA\n Much further?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Top of this ridge. Fort and Lake \n George are downhill of it.\n\n ALICE\n\n Re-energized, her spirits pick up.\n\n ALICE\n Will we be able to bathe?\n\n Before Cora can answer they hear a deep, rolling roar. Alice \n is alarmed.\n\n", "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", "INGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n move next to the sergeant with the shackle keys who looks at \n them curiously as...\n\n WOMEN\n\n with children nervously search the threatening trees, hoping \n against hope these are isolated incidents.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n draws his sword and is passing orders to his sergeant major, \n scanning the hills...\n\n EXT. FORESTED SLOPE - DAY\n\n MAGUA\n\n His eyes see Munro.\n", "olutely.\n\n Heyward rides to the front of the column to Magua, who's \n twenty to thirty yards ahead of everybody else.\n\n HEYWARD\n You there, Scout!\n\n Magua slowly turns towards Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n (overly articulated)\n We must... stop... soon. Women are... \n tired. You... understand?\n\n MAGUA\n (perfect English)\n I understand. This", "into a deeper stand of trees.\n\n CORA (O.S.)\n Alice, did you see that...?\n\n CORA'S\n reverie's broken by Heyward entering \n the frame.\n\n CORA\n Alice?\n\n Alice rouses from fatigue.\n\n HEYWARD\n Are you alright?\n\n ALICE\n Can we rest soon?\n\n HEYWARD\n Abs", "clouds and many \n mountains. But now he has come to \n lead his nation.\n\n MONTCALM\n That Le Renard has the power to lead \n his people into the light, I know \n well.\n\n Magua grabs the hand of the French commander. Imperceptible \n surprise in Montcalm's eyes. Magua jams Montcalm's fingers \n to his chest.\n\n MAGUA\n Does my father know that?\n\n ", "sally-port is closed. \n Three men are wounded. The diversion worked perfectly.\n\n HEYWARD\n Sergeant Major!\n\n SERGEANT MAJOR\n Sir!\n\n HEYWARD\n Thank you, Sergeant Major. Thank the \n men.\n\n SERGEANT MAJOR\n Atten-hut!\n\n TROOPERS & MILITIA\n\n have seen no action for three days & nights. Heyward got \n", ".\n\n HEYWARD\n (tight)\n I thought British policy is 'Make \n the World... England', sir.\n\n A chill. Majors don't upbraid Generals.\n\n WEBB\n You will take command of the 62nd \n Regiment of Foot. At Fort William \n Henry under Colonel Munro. I will \n march the 33rd to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n Sir!... Might", "daughters \n are here, too.\n\n Beams raises his torch, sees the muddied, soaked women. He \n is shocked that they traveled with Heyward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FORT WILLIAM HENRY, PARADE GROUND - NIGHT\n\n GROUP\n\n Emerges from a sally-port tunnel. It's smokey. NOISE is \n deafening. The group has traveled through a nightmare, only \n to", "Heyward \n for confirmation of \n his point of view)\n What did you see, Major?\n\n Heyward looks around the room. And he catches the doorway...\n\n CORA\n beyond the periphery of men, staring \n at him.\n\n HEYWARD\n Munro is expecting him to be the \n good soldier in defense of British \n military interests.\n\n At the same time...\n\n CORA\n\n examines him", "\n for war. Their Latinate voluptuousness \n combines with their Gallic laziness \n and the result is: they would rather \n make love with their faces than fight.\n\n Webb's Adjutants laugh uproariously at his wit. Heyward's \n stiff, perfunctory smile. He's been made the butt of the \n joke. He does not share Webb's derisive view of the French.\n\n Webb doesn't like Heyward", "I, too, was at that farm. It was as \n he said...\n\n MUNRO\n Not with enough certainty to outweigh \n British interests in this fort.\n\n HEYWARD\n And who empowered these provincials \n to pass judgment upon England's \n policies in her own colonies? To \n come and go without so much as a \"by \n your leave.\"\n\n CORA\n They do not live their" ], [ "a new wind blowing through a new land, a new self-\n determination... She's drawn to this rough yet graceful man \n with his direct manner. Hawkeye settles against a wall. She \n leans next to him.\n\n Their shoulders touch.\n\n CORA\n\n To her everything about him seems to be somehow right. She's \n discovered that the passions and outrage that move him, move \n her... And her readiness to give herself to what stirs the \n deepest resonances of her soul is", "the same as his.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n looks at her. She's beautiful in the firelight. Cora's eyes \n find his and she folds into his arms. His lips find hers and \n tears stream down her face. She's suffused with an elation \n she can't explain. In the night before doomsday a romance is \n born in rebellion amid the huddled people in this small \n stockade ripped from the black earth of the forests of a \n wild continent.\n\n ", ", thinking of it in Boston and \n London...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Sorry to disappoint you...\n\n CORA\n (eyes downcast)\n On the contrary. It is more deeply \n stirring... to my blood...\n (then up into his \n eyes)\n ...than any imagining could possibly \n have been...\n\n She closes her eyes, turns slightly and prepares to sleep. \n Hawkeye is the one", " HEYWARD\n My God it's good to see you.\n\n He takes her hand in both of his and kisses it. He is open \n and lit up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. POLTROON'S HOUSE, BACK YARD - DAY\n\n CORA & HEYWARD\n\n A vegetable plot behind the Poltroon's house is a provincial \n substitute for a formal garden setting. Heyward and Cora sit \n", "the shadows, leaning against the wall, searching... we \n sense she's been looking for him. He comes up to her. She \n turns in surprise.\n\n CLOSER\n\n Somehow she breathes easier because he's there. She's in a \n white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Hawkeye leads her \n away from some of the people.\n\n CORA & HAWKEYE\n\n Hawkeye takes Cora's hand. Cora is awakening to a new spirit, \n ", "\n\n CORA\n Say nothing to Alice...!\n\n Hawkeye nods.\n\n ALICE\n\n stands in the chamber not far from the wall of water, \n fascinated with its shimmer. She's oblivious to all the events \n and everything going on around her...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n sees Cora & Hawkeye together and turns away.\n\n GROUP\n\n Uncas watches Alice. The wounded Ranger has fallen asleep. \n The Redcoat is", "her \n shoulders and whispers to her. We don't hear what he says. \n Cora drops to her knees and places her hands over her eyes \n and face like a little girl trying to make something bad go \n away.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n Leads her to a depression, his arm around her shoulders, her \n face covered and she cries softly into his shoulder.\n\n EXTREME CLOSE UP: CORA\n\n says into Hawkeye's ear, after she looks O.S....", " HEYWARD\n I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...\n\n CORA\n\n Her nerves are shattered. She's trying to be brave.\n\n There's a lot going on under Cora's surface. We don't know \n what it is, but it's disconcerting.\n\n HEYWARD\n Cora, I adore you and, when we come \n together, we will be the happiest \n couple in England... I am", "\n His countenance gives way momentarily. All his experience \n seems of no avail. He touches the side of Cora's face. Grabs \n Killdeer and follows Chingachgook.\n\n ALICE\n\n sensing new danger, slips away on her own.\n\n CORA\n\n crosses to the Ranger who's semi-conscious, feverish and \n getting delirious. She can't do a thing except hold his hand \n and think of her father.\n\n ", "\n Heyward' shattered inside.\n\n HEYWARD\n I see...\n\n CORA\n I am sorry, Duncan...\n\n Heyward nods. He's speechless. He's errect as he leaves the \n room.\n\n CLOSE: CORA\n\n The tension rushes out of her and she shudders and leans \n against the quarter-timbered walls for support. Then she \n collects the linen and starts out.\n\n", " CORA (O.S.)\n Heyward! Duncan Heyward.\n\n Heyward looks to the side. An inner light turns on. In this \n mode, this is a man we could like.\n\n REVERSE: CORA MUNRO\n\n enters from the garden. She's vivacious, dark-haired, \n unconventional in that she's educated, but with conventional \n values and attitudes. She hugs Duncan to her and then pushes \n him away to look at him.\n\n", " CORA\n Yes.\n\n They hold each other's eyes. She searches his face.\n\n CORA\n Where will we go?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Winter with the Delaware, my father's \n cousins. And in the spring, cross \n the Ohio and look for land to settle \n with my father in a new place called \n Can-tuck-ee.\n\n They move next to Chingachgook. He senses", " Cora's pale smile.\n\n CORA\n They're going to hang you.\n (pause; soft)\n Why didn't you leave when you had \n the chance?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Because what I am interested in is \n right here...\n\n CORA\n What would you have me do?\n\n He touches her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Webb's reinforcements will arrive or ", "\n Ranger whispers something inaudible. The Ottawa chief shakes \n his head, \"Non. Pas possible...\"\n\n And means it. They retreat.\n\n SEPERATE SHOTS: HAWKEYE, UNCAS, CHINGACHGOOK, CORA\n\n tensely monitor the Ottawa retreat.\n\n UNCAS & ALICE\n\n He slowly removes his hand from her mouth. She's a little \n shy, then she looks up, catches his eyes. Then she averts \n her", " Her body shudders. Her terror's total. He tries to restrain \n and calm her. She won't let him. Then her mouth seeks his \n and in the passion of despair and fear and wanting life, she \n holds him between her thighs. And Uncas is confused, but \n Alice whispers his name and he responds. He loves her in the \n half-light.\n\n UNCAS\n\n his hand buried in her hair irradiated by the moon, then she \n seems to reach some emotional clim", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "\n French outpost by dawn.\n (sticks out his hand \n and grasps Winthrop's)\n Good luck, Jack.\n\n The men split up...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n FIRE - HAWKEYE\n\n wanders among the dancers and musicians clustered in groups, \n lit by the firelight.\n\n Someone catches his eye and he moves in that direction...\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: CORA\n\n in", " on rough wooden chairs. Wind blows. In the background a \n servant hangs laundry. The white sheets billow. A table holds \n a tea setting. They're sitting close to each other, talking \n seriously and quietly. Duncan's jacket is removed. Time's \n passed. Long pause. Then:\n\n CORA\n I'm embarrassed to be so indecisive... \n after so long apart and after you've \n traveled so far...\n\n HEYWARD", "into a deeper stand of trees.\n\n CORA (O.S.)\n Alice, did you see that...?\n\n CORA'S\n reverie's broken by Heyward entering \n the frame.\n\n CORA\n Alice?\n\n Alice rouses from fatigue.\n\n HEYWARD\n Are you alright?\n\n ALICE\n Can we rest soon?\n\n HEYWARD\n Abs", "throp grabs Nathaniel.\n\n HAWKEYE\n You're a liar!\n\n CORA'S\n\n saddened. Heyward's stature has fallen irrevocably in her \n eyes.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n can't help it. He turns to look at Cora...\n\n HEYWARD'S POV: DOORWAY\n\n She's gone.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n suffused with an inner sadness, turns to Haw" ], [ "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", " MAGUA\n (laughs; sardonic)\n Magua slept hard in the English \n wigwams. And the sticks left their \n mark...\n (pause; for real)\n Magua's village and lodges were burnt. \n Magua's children were killed by the \n English. Magua was taken as a slave \n by the Mohawks who fought for the \n Grey Hair. Magua's wife believed he ", "British military power. Now they're dead meat. \n Ambrose's body is against a tree. In the B.G. two of the \n wounded start to rise...\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Stop it!\n\n Heyward spins.\n\n UNCAS\n\n just cut the throat of the second Narraganset. It drops into \n the brush. Alice attacks him.\n\n ALICE\n We need them to get out of here!\n\n Uncas gently", ", upending one Huron and lunges with his bayonet in his \n left towards another. But this Huron easily slips the thrust \n and slams Heyward with his rifle butt.\n\n BRITISH\n\n dead and dying.\n\n AMBROSE\n\n blood gushing from his chest wound, fires his pistol, dropping \n a Huron; slashes a second with his sword. Then he's chopped \n down. Hurons begin scalping the British while four race \n towards Heyward and the two women.\n", ".\n\n OVER MAGUA'S SHOULDER:\n\n MUNRO\n\n his lower body is trapped under his dead horse. Magua leans \n in towards him.\n\n MAGUA\n Grey Hair. I will cut your heart \n from your living chest in front of \n your eyes. As you die, know that I \n will put under the knife your children \n and wipe your seed from this earth \n forever...\n\n Magua pulls his knife and", "Uncas' right arm is useless. He scrambles \n up. Next to the expertise of a mature warrior like Magua, \n Uncas' raw, young determination may not be enough.\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Freezes.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n UNCAS\n\n closing, swings. Magua moves inside, stabs Uncas twice, turns \n him to face the edge, ripping his head left to expose the", "and half his chest are splashed red with blood.\n\n LONG SHOT: MAGUA\n\n seen from far away, holding aloft the heart of Munro.\n\n REVERSE: HAWKEYE\n\n saw him and fights his way to attack when...\n\n WHITE HORSE\n\n crazed, CRASHES through men, knocking Hawkeye over...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n protecting Hawkeye, slams his war club into one Huron, \n breaking his attack, his arm and", "\n Magua abruptly leaves Montcalm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. WOODS - NIGHT\n\n MAGUA \n\n Walking back to the Huron camp. Reveal a Huron sub-chief has \n been in the woods, waiting for Magua. Now he joins him. They \n walk in silence. Then...\n\n MAGUA\n (in Iroquois; re: \n Montcalm)\n I wonder at the", "\n\n HEYWARD\n (suddenly tired)\n Ambush... on the George Road. This \n Magua led us into it.\n (pause)\n ...eighteen killed. It's these men \n who saved us. They guided us here...\n\n MUNRO\n Thank you. How can I reward you?\n\n No answer. Then...\n\n HAWKEYE\n Help ourselves to a few horns from \n your powder stores", "their useless muskets as clubs or with fixed bayonets - \n as the smoke and fog swirls among the men - fighting for \n their lives...\n\n MAGUA\n\n glides through the scenes, striking and hunting. Some of his \n coterie of braves near him.\n\n He sees...\n\n BLONDE WOMAN\n\n hugging the ground in fear. Magua throws her over. It's not \n Alice Munro. It's a woman protecting her baby. Magua walks \n on", "blanket. There is a solidity to his dark, tall figure \n we didn't see before. Magua turns about face and advances on \n the column.\n\n TRACK WITH Magua.\n\n Heyward and the Munro girls pass the camera as does Sgt. \n Major Ambrose, marching in advance of the men. Magua is \n approaching the soldier on the left in the first row.\n\n We see Magua has caught the Redcoat's eye.\n\n REDCOAT\n\n is curious, starts to", "\n\n momentum and thrown tomahawk spread-eagles one Huron, near a \n couple of wounded Redcoats who fight on...\n\n MAGUA\n\n calmly sees the odds have changed. His attention becomes \n focused. He commits a very revealing act seen through the \n blurred foreground action of struggling bodies. We will \n remember it. He raises his musket and aims at...\n\n CORA MUNRO\n\n who's unaware she's a target. Why is he singling out a Mun", ", war clubs and point-blank musket fire.\n\n ALICE\n\n on the ground, screaming insanely, covered by Cora who's \n protecting her little sister, and...\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n horse shot from beneath him, the animal folding, falling \n straight to the earth, and...\n\n MAGUA\n\n shoots Ambrose in the chest, and...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n by the Munro daughters spins, swinging his fusil like a ball-\n bat", " Heart. Give Magua new heart.\n\n Magua totally disdains the Englishman and walks away from \n him, starting up a steeper forested hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - TWILIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE, UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Running cross-country after the Huron column. They leap over \n fallen logs and keep going.\n\n FRONTAL: HAWKEYE\n\n breathing hard, his lips are", " CUT TO:\n\f\n\n EXT. HURON VILLAGE - DAY\n\n MAGUA \n\n MAGUA\n ... the earth was pale. Our tomahawks \n were bright. Now they are dull from \n war. And the Huron rich with the \n trophies of honor... Magua will sell \n the English officer to Les Francais \n and the reward is my gift to you, \n wise one... The women", "slows...\n\n COMBATANTS\n\n Magua - confident, pumped up - feints with his left, his \n tomahawk appearing in his right, sweeping backhand, while \n his left, magically holding his blade, is jamming up to gut \n Chingachgook. Chingachgook's dead. Except...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n isn't there. He rolled and, on one knee with his back to \n Magua, his arm slams rearward.\n", "irrelevance. He slams one aside with \n his musket.\n\n HAWKEYE FIRES.\n\n HURON\n\n with tomahawk, about to blindside Chingachgook, is SHOT DOWN.\n\n MAGUA\n\n charging Chingachgook.\n\n VERY WIDE\n\n Two men, like dots, race to collide at the center of the \n promontory. Now the others fall back... It's one-on-one. \n Hawkeye", "INGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n move next to the sergeant with the shackle keys who looks at \n them curiously as...\n\n WOMEN\n\n with children nervously search the threatening trees, hoping \n against hope these are isolated incidents.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n draws his sword and is passing orders to his sergeant major, \n scanning the hills...\n\n EXT. FORESTED SLOPE - DAY\n\n MAGUA\n\n His eyes see Munro.\n", "\n WIDER & LOWER: MAGUA\n\n raises his musket in his fist and emits a war whoop. WE NOW \n SEE... hundreds have been stalking the column, hidden in the \n trees, maybe thousands. Then...\n\n WIDE: ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE\n\n FIRE from the trees crescendos within seconds revealing a \n spontaneous and massive ambush of mostly Hurons. They appear \n from behind every tree and it turns to a ROAR of musket fire, ", ". One of the braves behind Magua raise his tomahawk. On \n his downswing...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n running through surreal patches, thinks he glimpses Cora two \n hundred yards away.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Cora!\n\n Chingachgook, on Hawkeye's left, slams down two Hurons with \n his war club.\n\n CORA & ALICE\n\n running through the chaos and murder and British troopers \n " ], [ " Her body shudders. Her terror's total. He tries to restrain \n and calm her. She won't let him. Then her mouth seeks his \n and in the passion of despair and fear and wanting life, she \n holds him between her thighs. And Uncas is confused, but \n Alice whispers his name and he responds. He loves her in the \n half-light.\n\n UNCAS\n\n his hand buried in her hair irradiated by the moon, then she \n seems to reach some emotional clim", "he's \n nevertheless falling for Cora.\n\n HAWKEYE\n She does not shy away from much...\n\n PHELPS\n (elsewhere)\n What's that?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Nothin'.\n\n Alice Munro has caught Hawkeye's attention. Outside the \n surgery where a casement meets a wall, she sits, withdrawn. \n A catatonic older woman in a fine dress sits next to her.\n\n ", "and Mohawks locked in struggle with Hurons. Cora's dress is \n torn. She holds Alice to her. There's a pistol in Cora's \n hand.\n\n ONE HURON\n\n scalping a prone soldier, rips the trophy from his head, \n turns and faces us.\n\n CORA\n shoots him in the face.\n\n EXTREMELY CLOSE: ALICE\n\n and her eyes take it all in. And her affect starts to flatten.", "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", "British military power. Now they're dead meat. \n Ambrose's body is against a tree. In the B.G. two of the \n wounded start to rise...\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Stop it!\n\n Heyward spins.\n\n UNCAS\n\n just cut the throat of the second Narraganset. It drops into \n the brush. Alice attacks him.\n\n ALICE\n We need them to get out of here!\n\n Uncas gently", "\n His countenance gives way momentarily. All his experience \n seems of no avail. He touches the side of Cora's face. Grabs \n Killdeer and follows Chingachgook.\n\n ALICE\n\n sensing new danger, slips away on her own.\n\n CORA\n\n crosses to the Ranger who's semi-conscious, feverish and \n getting delirious. She can't do a thing except hold his hand \n and think of her father.\n\n ", ".\n\n She's still unsettled.\n\n ALICE (O.S.)\n Duncan!\n\n REVERSE: ALICE MUNRO\n\n eighteen years old, white-blonde hair, wide blue eyes. She's \n effervescent and runs to hug him. Heyward is taken aback by \n her enthusiasm and laughs.\n\n HEYWARD\n My God, you've grown up.\n\n ALICE\n We leave in the morning?!\n\n", "\n Languorously, she lies back, closes her eyes and lays a hand \n on his shoulder, palm up, as if he were a prince in a romantic \n fantasy. Uncas tries to restrain her.\n\n ALICE'S\n\n eyes slowly open. Oblivion disappears. It's replaced with \n escalating fear. She holds onto Uncas with desperation. Her \n fingers claw his shoulders. She buries her face in his chest.\n\n ALICE\n Uncas...\n\n", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "I wanted to talk to you, but \n I'll come back another time...\n\n Alice looks at the two of them and rises out of the bed.\n\n CORA\n Alice...\n\n ALICE\n Talk to Duncan, Cora... I must \n manage... I cannot be an invalid \n schoolgirl.\n (starts for door)\n I'll see if Mr. Phelps needs \n anything...\n\n She leaves.\n\n ", ", about to strike. She stares \n at him. Her eyes are like pools of deep water, calm, open, \n almost beatific. It stops Magua...\n\n MAGUA\n\n inexplicably, drops his knife hand. He's riveted by her. \n About him, there's a glimmer of something else. He wears a \n human face for this one moment. He reaches out with his other \n hand to offer her safety. To bring her back from the edge...\n\n ALICE\n\n ", "ose scalp hangs on my \n lodge pole. And whose heart I cut \n from his chest.\n\n Now we see Cora on the ground. Defeat & fear are held in \n place by her determination.\n\n Alice looks around, in another place. Heyward's hands are \n bound between his back with a piece of wood wedged through \n his elbows.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. DIFFERENT FOREST - DAY\n\n WIDE FR", "his back. He says something in \n Mohican. Uncas spins looks at Alice: her expression's vacant.\n\n HAWKEYE'S KNIFE\n\n cuts a lock of Cora's hair. He folds it into his shirt. The \n orange light from Huron torches, now closer, plays on the \n wall behind her. We hear many Huron approach.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n now run out of the cave and throw themselves into the curtain \n of water", "\n right underside of his throat.\n\n CLOSE: MAGUA'S\n\n knife arm punches forward.\n\n WIDE: PROMONTORY\n\n Uncas falls down the face onto to the rocks.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n seeing his boy killed, CRIES out and is charging up the path, \n Hawkeye following.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - ALICE\n\n backs to the edge.\n\n MAGUA\n\n moves on Alice. His knife is low", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "\n\n CORA\n Say nothing to Alice...!\n\n Hawkeye nods.\n\n ALICE\n\n stands in the chamber not far from the wall of water, \n fascinated with its shimmer. She's oblivious to all the events \n and everything going on around her...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n sees Cora & Hawkeye together and turns away.\n\n GROUP\n\n Uncas watches Alice. The wounded Ranger has fallen asleep. \n The Redcoat is", "are frozen, \n as terrified of the savages and apparent half-breed rescuers \n as they were of those who attacked them.\n\n ALICE\n\n Cora, holding her, is stunned but functioning. Moments ago \n both women were clean and demure. Now their riding dresses \n are torn, mud-stained, blood-spattered and their baggage is \n gone.\n\n HEYWARD'S\n\n crossed to his slaughtered soldiers. Moments ago they were a \n testament to", "and Alice.\n\n ALICE\n\n approaches and is frozen in horror. Cora shields her from \n the sight. Cora is affected but confronts it directly.\n\n HEYWARD (O.S.)\n Anything to be done?\n\n UNCAS\n\n returns from under one part of the wreckage, ashen, stoic, \n as they all are. We know the degree of their inner pain.\n\n UNCAS\n All dead...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n ", "into a deeper stand of trees.\n\n CORA (O.S.)\n Alice, did you see that...?\n\n CORA'S\n reverie's broken by Heyward entering \n the frame.\n\n CORA\n Alice?\n\n Alice rouses from fatigue.\n\n HEYWARD\n Are you alright?\n\n ALICE\n Can we rest soon?\n\n HEYWARD\n Abs", "the path, two others are wounded...\n\n AMBROSE\n\n AMBROSE\n Form company! Left face! March!\n\n ALICE\n shrieks. Cora grabs Alice's reins \n and her own.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n pulling his fusil (short musket), seeing, firing, reaching \n for the women...\n\n CORA'S HORSE\n\n bucking.\n\n ALICE'S HORSE\n\n bol" ], [ "to surrender. Cora is thrown at him. \n Cora looks around wildly.\n\n Instead of taking Hawkeye, two warriors grab Heyward.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is immediately hamstrung and his legs collapse. He gasps. \n He's caught under the arms and dragged forward.\n\n HAWKEYE\n I said to trade me!\n\n Hawkeye's holding Cora. Heyward struggles to be seen.\n\n HEYWARD\n ... compliments, Mr", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "E\n (to Cora)\n In this there is a chance. If I live, \n I can try to free you. If we don't \n go, there is no powder, there's too \n many of them. Though my heart would \n keep me here, in that there is no \n chance. None. I can do nothing. Do \n you understand?\n\n CORA\n Yes. I want you to go.\n\n HEYWAR", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", "\n His countenance gives way momentarily. All his experience \n seems of no avail. He touches the side of Cora's face. Grabs \n Killdeer and follows Chingachgook.\n\n ALICE\n\n sensing new danger, slips away on her own.\n\n CORA\n\n crosses to the Ranger who's semi-conscious, feverish and \n getting delirious. She can't do a thing except hold his hand \n and think of her father.\n\n ", "\n HEYWARD & CORA & ALICE\n\n ready to die. Heyward has only his fusil as a bludgeon. He \n readies...\n\n THREE LOUD SHOTS\n\n BLOW three of the Hurons sideways, head over heels down the \n rise.\n\n REVERSE: THREE MEN\n\n barely seen, running diagonally across the fall line of the \n ravine. In parts, we recognize Nathaniel, recharging Killdeer \n on full run,", " Cora's pale smile.\n\n CORA\n They're going to hang you.\n (pause; soft)\n Why didn't you leave when you had \n the chance?\n\n HAWKEYE\n Because what I am interested in is \n right here...\n\n CORA\n What would you have me do?\n\n He touches her hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Webb's reinforcements will arrive or ", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "\n not. If they do not arrive, the \n fort will fall. If that happens, \n stay close to your father. The French \n will protect the officer class among \n the English.\n\n CORA\n No. I will find you.\n\n HAWKEYE\n Do not.\n (pause)\n Promise me.\n\n Cora drops her forehead to Hawkeye's hands wrapped around \n the bars. She acquiesces,", "his back. He says something in \n Mohican. Uncas spins looks at Alice: her expression's vacant.\n\n HAWKEYE'S KNIFE\n\n cuts a lock of Cora's hair. He folds it into his shirt. The \n orange light from Huron torches, now closer, plays on the \n wall behind her. We hear many Huron approach.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK & UNCAS\n\n now run out of the cave and throw themselves into the curtain \n of water", "D\n Coward! Coward back at the fort. \n Coward here.\n\n Hawkeye uses discipline not to kill the man.\n\n CORA\n You try. With all you have. To save \n yourself. If the worst happens, and \n only one of us survives, something \n of the other does, too...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. NORTH FISSURE - NIGHT\n\n UNCAS \n\n List", "ieves... I \n spit on you!\n\n Those Hurons who hear, do so in deadly, boding silence. Magua \n and his fourteen hard core braves start out as...\n\n SACHEM\n\n heard Heyward's translation. He looks at Heyward, then looks \n at Hawkeye and he nods his head.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n sees this. His eyes go to Cora. They've stopped dragging her \n towards the fire pit.\n\n Hawkeye steps forward", "lives \"by \n your leave.\" ...They hack it out of \n the wilderness with their own two \n hands, burying their dead and their \n children along the way.\n\n HEYWARD\n (distant)\n You are defending him because you've \n become infatuated with him.\n\n Cora is having her intelligence written off as a hormone \n attack. She contains her fury.\n\n CORA\n Duncan, you", "Magua would lead Huron down paths \n that make us not Hurons.\n (the judgment)\n Dark girl burn in fire to heal the \n twisted heart of Magua.\n\n Cora, hearing the sentence... Hawkeye's losing her.\n\n SACHEM\n (continuing)\n Munro daughter with moon in her hair \n must be Magua's wife so Munro's seed \n doesn't die.\n\n Alice is gone, living in some dark", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", "\n\n CORA\n Say nothing to Alice...!\n\n Hawkeye nods.\n\n ALICE\n\n stands in the chamber not far from the wall of water, \n fascinated with its shimmer. She's oblivious to all the events \n and everything going on around her...\n\n HEYWARD\n\n sees Cora & Hawkeye together and turns away.\n\n GROUP\n\n Uncas watches Alice. The wounded Ranger has fallen asleep. \n The Redcoat is", ", about to strike. She stares \n at him. Her eyes are like pools of deep water, calm, open, \n almost beatific. It stops Magua...\n\n MAGUA\n\n inexplicably, drops his knife hand. He's riveted by her. \n About him, there's a glimmer of something else. He wears a \n human face for this one moment. He reaches out with his other \n hand to offer her safety. To bring her back from the edge...\n\n ALICE\n\n ", "In Mohican, Chingachgook decides some things. \n Hawkeye and Uncas nod. Heyward approaches Hawkeye.\n\n HEYWARD\n Any powder?\n\n HAWKEYE:\n (crossing to Cora)\n Only one or two loads.\n\n CORA\n\n is soaked to the bones. Hawkeye strips off his buckskin \n hunting shirt and wrings it out.\n\n Cora turns her back, strips off her white blouse and", "nods. Then HEAVY SHELLING commences. \n Cora & Hawkeye look up. Mortar bombs begin striking the \n fortress. Still dark. The final French bombardment has \n started.\n\n CORA\n The whole world's on fire, isn't it?\n\n A pause.\n\n HAWKEYE\n This part of it sure is...\n\n Reaching through the bars set in the thick door, their hands \n clasp each others. On that", "achgook - Last of the \n Mohicans.\n\n Chingachgook's hands drop to his sides. He lets out his breath \n with a weariness. His eyes seek Hawkeye's. They hold...\n\n CORA\n\n is standing, her back to us, in front of a rock-covered grave \n with a wooden cross. Next to it is Uncas' burial platform. \n Cora [says a] silent prayer. Then she pauses, crosses herself. \n Her emotions are spent" ], [ "\n The massive war club crashes into Magua's back.\n\n MAGUA\n\n stunned, turns to hatchet Chingachgook...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n now up and towering - slams his club right into Magua's \n assault... destroying it, breaking Magua's right arm. And...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n ... with his momentum, spins like a shot-putter and the next \n blow cripples Magua's left side and crushes part of his", "Uncas' right arm is useless. He scrambles \n up. Next to the expertise of a mature warrior like Magua, \n Uncas' raw, young determination may not be enough.\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Freezes.\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - DAY\n\n UNCAS\n\n closing, swings. Magua moves inside, stabs Uncas twice, turns \n him to face the edge, ripping his head left to expose the", "slows...\n\n COMBATANTS\n\n Magua - confident, pumped up - feints with his left, his \n tomahawk appearing in his right, sweeping backhand, while \n his left, magically holding his blade, is jamming up to gut \n Chingachgook. Chingachgook's dead. Except...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n isn't there. He rolled and, on one knee with his back to \n Magua, his arm slams rearward.\n", "chest.\n\n ANOTHER BLOW\n\n destroys Magua's collar and shoulder.\n\n MAGUA\n\n amazed. His body is broken and crippled, but he still stands. \n He looks into the eyes of the last warrior of the Mohicans.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n UNCAS!!!\n\n And he spins and swings. The blade side of the war club \n punches into Magua's chest, caving him in two.\n\n WIDE\n\n Mag", "irrelevance. He slams one aside with \n his musket.\n\n HAWKEYE FIRES.\n\n HURON\n\n with tomahawk, about to blindside Chingachgook, is SHOT DOWN.\n\n MAGUA\n\n charging Chingachgook.\n\n VERY WIDE\n\n Two men, like dots, race to collide at the center of the \n promontory. Now the others fall back... It's one-on-one. \n Hawkeye", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", "\n surrounded. The women are behind him. He slashes at one Huron \n with his sword and is clubbed down by a giant.\n\n MAGUA\n\n enters. His blanket, like a shawl, over his left shoulder, \n black plumes in his hair. He's imperturbable.\n\n MAGUA'S HAND\n\n reaches out and touches Cora's hair. Cora is frozen to the \n spot. His hand drops away from the hated Munros and as Magua \n turns to go", "and half his chest are splashed red with blood.\n\n LONG SHOT: MAGUA\n\n seen from far away, holding aloft the heart of Munro.\n\n REVERSE: HAWKEYE\n\n saw him and fights his way to attack when...\n\n WHITE HORSE\n\n crazed, CRASHES through men, knocking Hawkeye over...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n protecting Hawkeye, slams his war club into one Huron, \n breaking his attack, his arm and", " Heart. Give Magua new heart.\n\n Magua totally disdains the Englishman and walks away from \n him, starting up a steeper forested hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - TWILIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE, UNCAS & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Running cross-country after the Huron column. They leap over \n fallen logs and keep going.\n\n FRONTAL: HAWKEYE\n\n breathing hard, his lips are", "charging \n uphill, fueled by a father's rage, and Hawkeye. One Huron \n aims at the center of Chingachgook's chest...\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n FIRES past his father's side. The Huron's blown off the path. \n Hawkeye races to reload on the run...\n\n EXT. PROMONTORY - MAGUA\n\n sees the approach of Chingachgook.\n\n TO CHINGACHGOOK\n\n Huron warriors are an", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", " MAGUA\n (laughs; sardonic)\n Magua slept hard in the English \n wigwams. And the sticks left their \n mark...\n (pause; for real)\n Magua's village and lodges were burnt. \n Magua's children were killed by the \n English. Magua was taken as a slave \n by the Mohawks who fought for the \n Grey Hair. Magua's wife believed he ", ".\n\n Magua starts towards Hawkeye, his tomahawk slipping into his \n hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (to Sachem)\n I come to you unarmed and in peace \n to unstop your ears, wise one. Because \n the Hurons are mislead by the words \n of the wolf who's never spoken the \n truth.\n\n Sachem gestures with his hand to Magua. Magua reluctantly \n stops advancing", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", "oms over him.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Yengeese no good in woods. Make more \n noise, I kill him.\n\n Heyward spins. Hawkeye coolly watches Cora. Her attitude is \n hostile; aligned with Heyward. He turns away. Meanwhile...\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops, alarmed. Something in the air bothers him. Hawkeye \n smells it, too.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n is", "Magua's \n heart is twisted. He would make \n himself into what twisted him. A \n Dog, become Master of Dogs. But are \n Hurons dogs? ...Magua's way is false. \n It is like the white sickness. Magua's \n way will bring only sadness and shame. \n Is there another way? I don't know.\n (pauses)\n I am Nathaniel of the Yengeese; \n Hawkey", ".\n\n OVER MAGUA'S SHOULDER:\n\n MUNRO\n\n his lower body is trapped under his dead horse. Magua leans \n in towards him.\n\n MAGUA\n Grey Hair. I will cut your heart \n from your living chest in front of \n your eyes. As you die, know that I \n will put under the knife your children \n and wipe your seed from this earth \n forever...\n\n Magua pulls his knife and", "on. It's \n incredibly fast.\n\n UNCAS'\n\n three tomahawk swings are dodged by Magua whose own knife \n streaks like silver flashes. Uncas, gashed on arms and chest, \n feints right and slams Magua with an open hand, closes and \n the men are intertwined steel and muscle... and Magua throws \n Uncas.\n\n Going with him and rolling off Uncas, Magua's knife flashes \n into his armpit.", "Huron warrior by a \n woven rawhide thong tied to her neck.\n\n MAGUA\n\n is imperturbable.\n\n HURONS\n\n move quickly down into a ravine.\n\n HEYWARD\n\n is shoved forward.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. FOREST - DAY\n\n RUNNING FEET\n\n Long, loping strides.\n\n HAWKEYE & UNCAS\n\n cover ground like long-distance", "\n WIDE ANGLE\n\n Two's musket coming up. Uncas swings. FIRES. Before he's \n fallen, Uncas bayonets Three.\n\n FOURTH\n\n FIRES, misses, swings. Uncas slips the swung musket, but it \n catches his elbow. Uncas' musket falls. Before it hits the \n ground his tomahawk is out and hacks Four over the edge...\n\n MAGUA\n\n running forward past Five, confronts Uncas head" ], [ "achgook - Last of the \n Mohicans.\n\n Chingachgook's hands drop to his sides. He lets out his breath \n with a weariness. His eyes seek Hawkeye's. They hold...\n\n CORA\n\n is standing, her back to us, in front of a rock-covered grave \n with a wooden cross. Next to it is Uncas' burial platform. \n Cora [says a] silent prayer. Then she pauses, crosses herself. \n Her emotions are spent", "e, adopted son of Chingachgook, \n of the Mohican people... Let the \n children of the dead Munro go free... \n I speak the truth.\n\n Magua starts to rebut. Sachem holds up his hand and stops \n him. Nobody talks. Sachem whispers to the older men on either \n side of him.\n\n MAGUA\n\n waits for the decision.\n\n CORA\n\n looks to Alice, then to Hawkeye.\n\n HA", "In Mohican, Chingachgook decides some things. \n Hawkeye and Uncas nod. Heyward approaches Hawkeye.\n\n HEYWARD\n Any powder?\n\n HAWKEYE:\n (crossing to Cora)\n Only one or two loads.\n\n CORA\n\n is soaked to the bones. Hawkeye strips off his buckskin \n hunting shirt and wrings it out.\n\n Cora turns her back, strips off her white blouse and", "looks down at Uncas, her lover, dead on the rocks below. She \n turns to Magua with enigmatic calm. Her eyes seem to see \n into him. She steps off the edge. She falls to her death \n next to Uncas...\n\n EXT. MEADOW - DAY\n\n CORA\n\n collapses to her knees on the ground and her face falls \n forward into her hands...\n\n HURON WARRIORS\n\n are running down the path to intercept Chingachgook,", ". He looks at Cora.\n\n Back to Chingachgook. Chingachgook states something terse in \n Mohican. Hawkeye agrees. Heyward's confused. He doesn't know \n what they're talking about. Cora has understood Chingachgook's \n intent perfectly.\n\n CORA\n Yes. Go ahead.\n\n HEYWARD\n (explodes)\n What the bloody hell plan is this?\n\n HAWKEY", "ua dies in the dust.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n watching Chingachgook's heaving back. It's over.\n\n CORA\n\n alone, kneeling in the meadow. Her eyes downcast...\n\n WIDE REAR SHOT\n\n FADE OUT:\n\n FADE IN:\n\n EXT. - MOUNTAIN TOP - NEXT DAY\n\n Chingachgook's at the edge, facing the endless rolling forests \n to the west.", "Magua's \n heart is twisted. He would make \n himself into what twisted him. A \n Dog, become Master of Dogs. But are \n Hurons dogs? ...Magua's way is false. \n It is like the white sickness. Magua's \n way will bring only sadness and shame. \n Is there another way? I don't know.\n (pauses)\n I am Nathaniel of the Yengeese; \n Hawkey", " HAWKEYE\n That's my father's sadness talking.\n\n Hawkeye puts a hand on his shoulder.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n No. It is true... One day... there \n will be no more frontier. Then men \n like you will go, too. Like the \n Mohicans.\n (pause)\n And new people will come. Work. \n Struggle to make their light... One \n mystery remains.\n", "\n\n HAWKEYE \n\n Hears the distant howl. He's now lit silver blue by the \n moonlight through the falling water. Hawkeye knows it means \n Hurons are out there. He exchanges worried glances with Uncas \n & Chingachgook.\n\n UNCAS\n\n immediately starts up the right acclivity to one fissure, \n and Chingachgook moves carefully to the first fissure. Hawkeye \n follows.\n\n HAWKEYE\n", "oms over him.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Yengeese no good in woods. Make more \n noise, I kill him.\n\n Heyward spins. Hawkeye coolly watches Cora. Her attitude is \n hostile; aligned with Heyward. He turns away. Meanwhile...\n\n UNCAS\n\n stops, alarmed. Something in the air bothers him. Hawkeye \n smells it, too.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n is", "bends over a moccasin print that Chingachgook's examining. \n They look at each other grimly. Heyward joins them.\n\n HEYWARD\n Who were these people?\n\n HAWKEYE\n (re: print)\n Ottawa!\n\n HEYWARD\n Excuse me...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (to Hawkeye)\n Ottawa.\n\n UNCAS\n\n ", "chest.\n\n ANOTHER BLOW\n\n destroys Magua's collar and shoulder.\n\n MAGUA\n\n amazed. His body is broken and crippled, but he still stands. \n He looks into the eyes of the last warrior of the Mohicans.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n UNCAS!!!\n\n And he spins and swings. The blade side of the war club \n punches into Magua's chest, caving him in two.\n\n WIDE\n\n Mag", "\n HAWKEYE\n What is that?\n\n Cora, listening to Chingachgook, takes Hawkeye's hand.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n Will there be anything left to show \n the world that we ever did exist?\n\n REAR SHOT\n\n Cora stands next to her man. Hawkeye puts his arm around his \n father. They stare out over the wilderness.\n\n FADE OUT:\n\n THE END\n ", ", he says something low in Huron and the two women \n are jerked towards the fissures. Heyward is dragged by the \n arms.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RIVER - NIGHT\n\n WHITE WATER\n\n Miles from the falls. We see a figure. It's Chingachgook, \n nearly spent, rolling and tumbling through the fast-moving \n white water. He submerges, then surfaces again. He appears \n exhausted by the fall and", "and it's 12 miles cross \n country to Fort Edward.\n\n HEYWARD\n And if we're unlucky?\n\n HAWKEYE\n You will have to forego the pleasure \n of hangin' me.\n\n REVERSE: WIDE\n\n Hawkeye helps Cora; Heyward, the Ranger. Chingachgook carries \n Alice, down the rockface into a cave. We hear a distant ROAR \n reverberating off the", ", looking towards the advancing Ottawa.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n on his back, his tomahawk within reach on the ground.\n\n OTTAWA & FRENCH\n\n are fifty yards away from the crescent mound behind which \n lie our people. Mist envelops them...\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n\n His massive arms spread revealing his war club in his left \n fist; his fusil in his right hand.\n\n HAWKEYE\n\n waiting for the attack. Cora'", "on his \n face. Then hers. They've been discovered. Now they're backed \n into a hole in the ground with no powder and no way out.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. GLEN FALLS, CAVE - NIGHT\n\n HAWKEYE & CHINGACHGOOK \n\n Chingachgook talks to him in Mohican. Momentarily the anger \n and frustration is seen on Hawkeye's face. All his experience \n & craft has been to no avail", "m is starting to depart.\n\n HAWKEYE\n No! listen.\n (to Heyward)\n Tell him I'll trade him! Me for her! \n Tell him!!\n\n Heyward translates into rapid-fire French.\n\n HAWKEYE\n (shouts)\n I am La Longue Carabine! My death is \n a great honor to the Huron. Take me!\n\n Cora is jerked forward by three Hurons. Magua gr", "irrelevance. He slams one aside with \n his musket.\n\n HAWKEYE FIRES.\n\n HURON\n\n with tomahawk, about to blindside Chingachgook, is SHOT DOWN.\n\n MAGUA\n\n charging Chingachgook.\n\n VERY WIDE\n\n Two men, like dots, race to collide at the center of the \n promontory. Now the others fall back... It's one-on-one. \n Hawkeye", "A haze of sunlight illuminates silver and lead \n clouds. Hawkeye is a little apart, watching his father.\n\n HAWKEYE'S POV: CHINGACHGOOK\n\n speaks to the sky.\n\n CHINGACHGOOK\n (Mohican)\n Great Spirit and the Maker of all \n Life...\n\n ON HAWKEYE & CHINGACHGOOK\n\n We HEAR Hawkeye's English translation in VOICE OVER:\n\n CH" ] ]

[ "Why were the frontiersmen traveling west?", "What are the colonel's daughter's names?", "Who is in love with Cora?", "Who shares a passionate kiss?", "Who does Magua kill?", "Why does Magua present the women and Hawkeye to the Chief?", "What does the sachem rule will happen to Cora?", "What was Heyward's final gesture of affection?", "What does Alice choose to do instead of be with Magua?", "Who calls himself \"the last of the Mohicans\"? ", "Which character in the story steps off of a cliff to their death?", "Where does the story take place?", "Who are Colonel Edmund Munro's daughters?", "Which female character in the story does Heyward love?", "Why does Magua hate Colonel Munro?", "Who kills Colonel Munro?", "Who does Magua take as his prisoners?", "Who kills Heyward?", "Who does Hawkeye share a passionate kiss with?", "During which war did the story take place?", "In the story, who is traveling west to find a new home?", "Who was assigned to escort Colonel Edward Munroe's daughters Cora and Alice?", "Who is was guiding Major Heywards group into the mountains on their trip to the fort?", "Who does Cora share a kiss with?", "Who does Magua kill during an ambush against the British?", "How does Alice die in this story?", "Who sacrifices themself in exchange for Cora's life?", "How is Magua defeated by Chingachgook?", "Who declares themselves \" the last of the Mohicans\" ?" ]

[ [ "To find a new home", "To find a new home." ], [ "Cora and Alice", "Alice and Cora" ], [ "Heyward", "Heyward and Hawkeye are both in love with her" ], [ "Cora and Hawkeye", "Cora and hawkeye" ], [ "Colonel Munro", "Colonel Munro" ], [ "In hopes of getting recognition", "To be proven a Great War leader" ], [ "She will be burned alive.", "Burn at the stake" ], [ "To take Cora's place and be burned alive.", "He arranged to be executed instead of Cora." ], [ "step off a cliff to her death.", "suicide" ], [ "Chingachgook", "Chingachgook." ], [ "Alice ", "Alice" ], [ "In the Adirondack Mountains", "Adirondack Mountains" ], [ "Alice and Cora", "Alice and Cora" ], [ "Cora", "Major Heyward" ], [ "Because he feels that his family died because of Colonel Munro.", "He killed his family." ], [ "Magua", "Magua" ], [ "Alice, Cora and Heyward", "Cora, Alice, and Heyward." ], [ "Hawkeye shoots him in the head before the flames can burn him alive.", "Nathaniel." ], [ "Cora", "Cora." ], [ "The French and Indian war", "Seven years war" ], [ "Chingachgook, uncas, and \"Nethanial Hawkeye\"", "Chingachgook, Uncas, and Hawkeye" ], [ "Major Duncan Heyward", "Major Duncan Heyward" ], [ "Magua", "Magua " ], [ "Nethanial Hawkeye", "Hawkeye " ], [ "Colonel Monroe", "Colonel Munro" ], [ "She steps off a cliff.", "She falls off a cliff." ], [ "Duncan Heyward", "Heyward " ], [ "He is killed in a single combat.", "He was killed in single combat." ], [ "Chingachgook", "Chingachgook." ] ]

[ [ "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations", "a few words to him. The first day that Adam was able to drive\nout with his wife and Thaddeus, a gentleman entered the courtyard as the\ncarriage was about to leave it, and asked for Comte Paz. Thaddeus, who\nwas sitting on the front seat of the caleche, turned to take a letter\nwhich bore the stamp of the ministry of Foreign affairs. Having read it,\nhe put it into his pocket in a manner which prevented Clementine or Adam\nfrom speaking of it. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the porte\nMaillot,", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "me?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, but he is Adam,\" returned the captain.\n\n\"And why can't Thaddeus have the same privileges?\" asked the countess,\nsmiling.\n\nThat divine smile had a power which triumphed over the heroic\nresolutions of poor Paz; he looked at Clementine with all the fire of\nhis soul in his eyes, though, even so, its flame was tempered by the\nangelic gratitude of the man whose life was based upon that virtue.\nThe countess folded her arms in her shawl,", "can be frank with you. Well, I would\ngive my life to save Adam. What is a woman's independence in Paris?\nthe freedom to let herself be taken in by ruined or dissipated men who\npretend to love her. I pray to God to leave me this husband who is so\nkind, so obliging, so little fault-finding, and who is beginning to\nstand in awe of me.\"\n\n\"You are honest, and I love you the better for it,\" said Thaddeus,\ntaking her hand which she yielded to him, and kiss", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "II\n\n\nPaz was leading so subterranean a life that the fashionable world of\nParis asked who he was when the Comtesse Laginska was seen in the Bois\nde Boulogne riding between her husband and a stranger. During the ride\nClementine insisted that Thaddeus should dine with them. This caprice of\nthe sovereign lady compelled Paz to make an evening toilet. Clementine\ndressed for the occasion with a certain coquetry, in a style that\nimpressed even Adam himself when she entered the salon where the two", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "looking on the street. \"His apartments are over the\ncoachhouse.\"\n\n\"Who lives on the other side?\" asked the countess.\n\n\"No one as yet,\" said Adam; \"I mean that apartment for our children and\ntheir instructors.\"\n\n\"He didn't go to bed,\" said the countess, observing lights in Thaddeus's\nrooms when the carriage had passed under the portico supported by\ncolumns copied from those of the Tuileries, which replaced a vulgar zinc\nawning painted in stripes like cloth.\n\nThe captain", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "still beautiful to a widow\nof twenty-four.\"\n\n\"Ah! but you know that I love no one,\" she said, with the impatience of\ngrief.\n\n\"You don't yet know what it is to love,\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"Oh, as husbands are, I have sense enough to prefer a child like my poor\nAdam to a superior man. It is now over a month that we have been saying\nto each other, 'Will he live?' and these alternations have prepared me,\nas they have you, for this loss. I" ], [ "ine, brought up by a spendthrift father,\nknew nothing of the management of a household which the women of the\npresent day, however rich or noble they are, are often compelled to\nundertake themselves. How few, in these days, keep a steward. Adam, on\nthe other hand, son of one of the great Polish lords who let themselves\nbe preyed on by the Jews, and are wholly incapable of managing even the\nwreck of their vast fortunes (for fortunes are vast in Poland), was\nnot of a nature to check his own fancies or", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "positions. As far as one can judge from merely seeing a man once, and\nalso from what you tell me, there are times when the subaltern might\nbecome the superior.\"\n\n\"Oh, Paz is truly my superior,\" said Adam, naively; \"I have no advantage\nover him except mere luck.\"\n\nHis wife kissed him for the generosity of those words.\n\n\"The extreme care with which he hides the grandeur of his feelings is\none form of his superiority,\" continued the count. \"I said to him once:\n'You are a sly one", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "more than ten thousand francs on her, and\nletting her send him that letter before he would ask me for enough to\npay her debts. For a Pole, I call that firm.\"\n\n\"He will ruin you,\" said Clementine, in the sharp tone of a Parisian\nwoman, when she shows her feline distrusts.\n\n\"Oh, I know him,\" said Adam; \"he will sacrifice Malaga, if I ask him.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" remarked the countess.\n\n\"If it is best for his own happiness, I sha'n", "\n\n\"Now, Thaddeus, if you will do me this service we shall be forever\nquits,--though, indeed, I am your debtor now.\"\n\n\"Adam, you will have children; don't gamble any more,\" said Paz.\n\n\"So Malaga has cost us another twenty thousand francs,\" cried the\ncountess, some time later, when she discovered this new generosity to\nPaz. \"First, ten thousand, now twenty more,--thirty thousand! the income\nof which is fifteen hundred! the cost of my box at the", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "to me as simple-hearted as he is grand.\"\n\n\"All these pretty things you have about you,\" continued Adam, who\npraised his friend in the noblest sincerity, \"he picked up; he bought\nthem at auction, or as bargains from the dealers. Oh! he's keener than\nthey are themselves. If you see him rubbing his hands in the courtyard,\nyou may be sure he has traded away one good horse for a better. He lives\nfor me; his happiness is to see me elegant, in a perfectly appointed\nequipage", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "us,\" she\nremarked. \"He had better go altogether.\"\n\n\"Oh, my dear angel, that's going too far,\" said the count, who did not\nwant the death of the sinner.\n\nPaz, who knew Adam thoroughly, had enjoined him to secrecy, pretending\nto excuse his dissipations, and had asked his friend to lend him a few\nthousand francs for Malaga.\n\n\"He is a very firm fellow,\" said Adam.\n\n\"How so?\" asked Clementine.\n\n\"Why, for having spent no", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "pipes, I produced,--with\nthe utmost precaution, for I saw him look at me uneasily,--a certificate\nof the Funds payable to bearer for a certain sum of money a year.\"\n\nClementine jumped up and went and seated herself on Adam's knee, put\nher arms round his neck, and kissed him. \"Dear treasure!\" she said, \"how\nhandsome he is! Well, what did Paz do?\"\n\n\"Thaddeus turned pale,\" said the count, \"but he didn't say a word.\"", "ine's character; she will\n never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to\n Malaga.\n\n \"I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen;\n and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince\n Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken\n sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even.\n\n\"Thaddeus.\"\n\n\n\"Idiot that I was,\" thought Adam;", "thought only of Adam, think what they\n were to my soul when the woman I loved was the mainspring of all I\n did. I have known the pleasures of maternity in my love. I\n accepted life thus. Like the paupers who live along the great\n highways, I built myself a hut on the borders of your beautiful\n domain, though I never sought to approach you. Poor and lonely,\n struck blind by Adam's good fortune, I was, nevertheless, the\n giver. Yes, you were surrounded by a love as pure as a", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "dancing!\"\n\n\"I agree to all that; I accept the condemnation and I'll leave your\nhouse. But you know Adam. If I give up the management of your property\nyou must show energy yourself. I may have been to blame about Malaga,\nbut I have taken the whole charge of your affairs, managed your\nservants, and looked after the very least details. I cannot leave you\nuntil I see you prepared to continue my management. You have now\nbeen married three years, and you are safe from the temptations to\nextravagance which come with the hone", "carry out some fancy\nof his own--Pooh! I'll risk it.\"\n\nA month after this eccentric interview the circus-rider was living in\na comfortable apartment furnished by Comte Adam's own upholsterer, Paz\nhaving judged it desirable to have his folly talked about at the hotel\nLaginski. Malaga, to whom this adventure was like a leaf out of the\nArabian Nights, was served by Monsieur and Madame Chapuzot in the double\ncapacity of friends and servants. The Chapuzots and Marguer", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n" ], [ "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "\ndislike?\"\n\nAnd his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in\nthe midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance,\nwere a source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and\ncountess he had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself\nnecessary to a household which, without his devotion to its interests,\nwould infallibly have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of\nreckless prodigality? Clement", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "into it in the morning when she took\nher drive, to meet her on the boulevards in her pretty equipage,\nlooking like a flower in a whorl of leaves, inspired poor Thaddeus with\nmysterious delights, which glowed in the depths of his heart but gave no\nsigns upon his face.\n\nHow happened it that for five whole months the countess had never\nperceived the captain? Because he hid himself from her knowledge, and\ncarefully concealed the pains he took to avoid her. Nothing so resembles\nthe Divine love as", "\n\"Enough!\" said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. \"Can it be\nthat I am the victim of some noble mystification?\" she asked herself.\nThe thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the\nfollowing letter written by Thaddeus during the night:--\n\n \"Countess,--To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your\n contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When\n I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom\n we shall", "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "can be frank with you. Well, I would\ngive my life to save Adam. What is a woman's independence in Paris?\nthe freedom to let herself be taken in by ruined or dissipated men who\npretend to love her. I pray to God to leave me this husband who is so\nkind, so obliging, so little fault-finding, and who is beginning to\nstand in awe of me.\"\n\n\"You are honest, and I love you the better for it,\" said Thaddeus,\ntaking her hand which she yielded to him, and kiss", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "I am yours for life.\n\n\"Marguerite Turquet.\"\n\n\n\"That letter,\" thought Thaddeus, shouting with laughter, \"is worth the\nten thousand francs I have spent upon her.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nClementine came home the next day, and the day after that Paz beheld her\nagain, more beautiful and graceful than ever. After dinner, during which\nthe countess treated Paz with an air of perfect indifference, a little\nscene took place in the salon between the count and his wife when\nThadde" ], [ "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "with us, you must give her up. How an old\nsoldier--\"\n\n\"I am only thirty-five, and haven't a white hair.\"\n\n\"You look old,\" she said, \"and that's the same thing. How so careful a\nmanager, so distinguished a--\"\n\nThe horrible part of all this was her evident intention to rouse a sense\nof honor in his soul which she thought extinct.\n\n\"--so distinguished a man as you are, Thaddeus,\" she resumed after a\nmomentary pause which a gesture of his hand", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "\ndislike?\"\n\nAnd his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in\nthe midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance,\nwere a source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and\ncountess he had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself\nnecessary to a household which, without his devotion to its interests,\nwould infallibly have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of\nreckless prodigality? Clement", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "\n\"Enough!\" said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. \"Can it be\nthat I am the victim of some noble mystification?\" she asked herself.\nThe thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the\nfollowing letter written by Thaddeus during the night:--\n\n \"Countess,--To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your\n contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When\n I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom\n we shall", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", "to him, but I also know those we are under to you.\nBoth generosities are natural--but you are generous every day and all\nday. My father dines here to-day, also my uncle Ronquerolles and my aunt\nMadame de Serizy. Dress yourself therefore,\" she said, taking the hand\nhe offered to assist her from the carriage.\n\nThaddeus went to his own room to dress with a joyful heart, though\nshaken by an inward dread. He went down at the last moment and behaved\nthrough dinner as he had done", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", "the three took their coffee, a silence rather annoying to Adam,\nwho was incapable of imagining the cause of it. Clementine no longer\ntried to draw out Thaddeus. The captain, on the other hand, retreated\nwithin his military stiffness and came out of it no more, neither on the\nway to the Opera nor in the box, where he seemed to be asleep.\n\n\"You see, madame, that I am a very stupid man,\" he said during the dance\nin the last act of \"Guillaume Tell.\" \"Am I not right to keep", "\n\"Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,\" said\nClementine, not looking at Paz.\n\n\"He loves you madly,\" replied Thaddeus.\n\n\"Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to\nlove me to-morrow,\" said the countess.\n\n\"How inexplicable Parisian women are!\" exclaimed Thaddeus. \"When they\nare loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are\nloved reasonably they reproach a man for not", "still beautiful to a widow\nof twenty-four.\"\n\n\"Ah! but you know that I love no one,\" she said, with the impatience of\ngrief.\n\n\"You don't yet know what it is to love,\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"Oh, as husbands are, I have sense enough to prefer a child like my poor\nAdam to a superior man. It is now over a month that we have been saying\nto each other, 'Will he live?' and these alternations have prepared me,\nas they have you, for this loss. I" ], [ "Clementine reproved Paz and let him know\nvery plainly that she did not wish him to live in her house any longer.\n\n\"Yes, madame,\" said Paz, humbly, \"you are right; I am a wretch; I did\ngive you my word. But you see how it is; I put off leaving Malaga till\nafter the carnival. Besides, that woman exerts an influence over me\nwhich--\"\n\n\"An influence!--a woman who ought to be turned out of Musard's by the\npolice for such", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "difficult between you.\"\n\nClementine lowered her head and looked down at the tips of his varnished\nboots.\n\n\"You Northern men have nothing but physical courage,\" she said\ncomplainingly; \"you have no constancy in your opinions.\"\n\n\"How will you amuse yourself alone, madame?\" said Paz, assuming a\ncareless air.\n\n\"Are not you going to keep me company?\"\n\n\"Excuse me for leaving you.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Where are you going?\"\n\nThe thought of a heroic falsehood", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "of a certain friend of her own, a woman already jealous\nof her.\n\nQuite incapable, in spite of her intelligence, of suspecting such\ntreachery, the Comtesse Laginska committed the imprudence of going with\nher so-called friend to a masked ball at the Opera. About three in the\nmorning, led away by the excitement of the scene, Clementine, on whom La\nPalferine had expended his seductions, consented to accept a supper,\nand was about to enter the carriage of her faithless friend. At this", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "of an abyss described\nby Dante. The unfortunate man had never dreamed that the possibility\nmight arise of becoming Clementine's husband, and now he had drowned\nhimself in a ditch of mud. His face was convulsed, when he reached\nthe kiosk, with an agony of grief; his head, like Medusa's, conveyed\ndespair.\n\n\"Is he dead?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"They have given him up; that is, they leave him to nature. Do not go\nin; they are still there", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "us,\" she\nremarked. \"He had better go altogether.\"\n\n\"Oh, my dear angel, that's going too far,\" said the count, who did not\nwant the death of the sinner.\n\nPaz, who knew Adam thoroughly, had enjoined him to secrecy, pretending\nto excuse his dissipations, and had asked his friend to lend him a few\nthousand francs for Malaga.\n\n\"He is a very firm fellow,\" said Adam.\n\n\"How so?\" asked Clementine.\n\n\"Why, for having spent no", "do not know, countess, what charm, what unexpected\npiquancy of mind she has.\" Then, feeling his courage fail him, he added\nhastily, \"There is not a woman in society, with her mincing airs, that\nis worth the honest nature of that young animal.\"\n\n\"At any rate, I wish nothing of the animal about me,\" said the countess,\nwith a glance like that of an angry viper.\n\nAfter that evening Comte Paz showed Clementine the exact state of\nher affairs; he made himself her tutor, taught her the", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", ", in his dressing-gown with a pipe in his mouth, was watching\nClementine as she entered the vestibule. The day had been a hard one for\nhim. And here is the reason why: A great and terrible emotion had taken\npossession of his heart on the day when Adam made him go to the Opera\nto see and give his opinion on Mademoiselle du Rouvre; and again when he\nsaw her on the occasion of her marriage, and recognized in her the woman\nwhom a man is forced to love exclusively. For this reason Paz strongly\nadvised and", "for\nadmitting it, and went to bed, resolved to await events before deciding\non a course.\n\nThe next day Clementine breakfasted very contentedly without Paz, and\nwithout even noticing his disobedience to her orders. It happened to be\nher reception day, when the house was thrown open with a splendor that\nwas semi-royal. She paid no attention to the absence of Comte Paz, on\nwhom all the burden of these parade days fell.\n\n\"Good!\" thought he, as he heard the last carriages driving away at two", "most men would try to seem more amiable than I.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" she said, \"I am not sure but what there is some _calculation_ in\nhis behavior; he would have taken in an ordinary woman.\"\n\nHalf an hour later, when the chasseur, Boleslas, called out \"Gate!\" and\nthe carriage was waiting for it to swing back, Clementine said to her\nhusband, \"Where does the captain perch?\"\n\n\"Why, there!\" replied Adam, pointing to a floor above the porte-cochere\nwhich had one window", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "promoted the long journey to Italy and elsewhere after the\nmarriage. At peace so long as Clementine was away, his trial was renewed\non the return of the happy household. As he sat at his window on this\nmemorable night, smoking his latakia in a pipe of wild-cherry wood\nsix feet long, given to him by Adam, these are the thoughts that were\npassing through his mind:--\n\n\"I, and God, who will reward me for suffering in silence, alone know\nhow I love her! But how shall I manage to have neither her love nor her", "for a moment, love prevailed. The lover would have his\nday. Paz became brilliant, he tried to please, he told the story of the\nPolish insurrection in noble words, being questioned about it by the\ndiplomatist. By the end of dinner Paz saw Clementine hanging upon\nhis lips and regarding him as a hero, forgetting that Adam too, after\nsacrificing a third of his vast fortune, had been an exile. At nine\no'clock, after coffee had been served, Madame de Serizy kissed her niece\non the", "your position, that is what I should say myself, if I were a man,\"\nreplied Clementine. \"Well, if I accept it as a great sacrifice there can\nbe no ill-will between us.\"\n\nPaz left the room, fearing he might commit some great folly, and feeling\nthat wild ideas were getting the better of him. He went to walk in the\nopen air, lightly dressed in spite of the cold, but without being able\nto cool the fire in his cheeks or on his brow.\n\n\"I thought you had a noble soul,\"--the words still rang", "Paz.\"\n\n\n\"If my poor Adam says he has lost a friend, what have I lost?\" thought\nClementine, sinking into a chair with her eyes fixed on the carpet.\n\nThe following letter Constantin had orders to give privately to the\ncount:--\n\n \"My dear Adam,--Malaga has told me all. In the name of all your\n future happiness, never let a word escape you to Clementine about\n your visits to that girl; let her think that Malaga has cost me a\n hundred thousand francs. I know Clement", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;" ], [ "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "\ndislike?\"\n\nAnd his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in\nthe midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance,\nwere a source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and\ncountess he had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself\nnecessary to a household which, without his devotion to its interests,\nwould infallibly have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of\nreckless prodigality? Clement", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "into it in the morning when she took\nher drive, to meet her on the boulevards in her pretty equipage,\nlooking like a flower in a whorl of leaves, inspired poor Thaddeus with\nmysterious delights, which glowed in the depths of his heart but gave no\nsigns upon his face.\n\nHow happened it that for five whole months the countess had never\nperceived the captain? Because he hid himself from her knowledge, and\ncarefully concealed the pains he took to avoid her. Nothing so resembles\nthe Divine love as", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", "a few words to him. The first day that Adam was able to drive\nout with his wife and Thaddeus, a gentleman entered the courtyard as the\ncarriage was about to leave it, and asked for Comte Paz. Thaddeus, who\nwas sitting on the front seat of the caleche, turned to take a letter\nwhich bore the stamp of the ministry of Foreign affairs. Having read it,\nhe put it into his pocket in a manner which prevented Clementine or Adam\nfrom speaking of it. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the porte\nMaillot,", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "forehead, pressed her hand, and went away, taking Adam with her\nand leaving the Marquis de Ronquerolles and the Marquis du Rouvre, who\nsoon followed. Paz and Clementine were alone together.\n\n\"I will leave you now, madame,\" said Thaddeus. \"You will of course\nrejoin them at the Opera?\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered, \"I don't like dancing, and they give an odious\nballet to-night 'La Revolte au Serail.'\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence.\n", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "then she crushed him with the\nwords, \"Poor Malaga!\" uttered in tones which a great lady alone can\nfind to give expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half\nunconscious behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to\nAdam's chamber.\n\nAn hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death\nin his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing.\nHe was forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way", "smiling.\n\n\"Ah! but we are Florentines transplanted to the North,\" answered\nThaddeus with a refinement of accent and a look in his eyes which\nmade his conduct at table seem assumed for the occasion. There was\ntoo evident a contrast between his involuntary self-revelation in this\nspeech and his behavior during dinner. Clementine examined the captain\nwith a few of those covert glances which show a woman's surprise and\nalso her capacity for observation.\n\nIt resulted from this little incident that silence reigned in the salon\nwhile", "with us, you must give her up. How an old\nsoldier--\"\n\n\"I am only thirty-five, and haven't a white hair.\"\n\n\"You look old,\" she said, \"and that's the same thing. How so careful a\nmanager, so distinguished a--\"\n\nThe horrible part of all this was her evident intention to rouse a sense\nof honor in his soul which she thought extinct.\n\n\"--so distinguished a man as you are, Thaddeus,\" she resumed after a\nmomentary pause which a gesture of his hand", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing" ], [ "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "then she crushed him with the\nwords, \"Poor Malaga!\" uttered in tones which a great lady alone can\nfind to give expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half\nunconscious behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to\nAdam's chamber.\n\nAn hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death\nin his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing.\nHe was forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "her. In fact, before long Malaga was\nvery much talked about in the questionable world of equivocal women, who\npresently attacked her good fortune by calumnies. They said she was\na somnambulist, and the Pole was a magnetizer who was using her to\ndiscover the philosopher's stone. Some even more envenomed scandals\ndrove her to a curiosity that was greater than Psyche's. She reported\nthem in tears to Paz.\n\n\"When I want to injure a woman,\" she said in conclusion, \"", "Paz.\"\n\n\n\"If my poor Adam says he has lost a friend, what have I lost?\" thought\nClementine, sinking into a chair with her eyes fixed on the carpet.\n\nThe following letter Constantin had orders to give privately to the\ncount:--\n\n \"My dear Adam,--Malaga has told me all. In the name of all your\n future happiness, never let a word escape you to Clementine about\n your visits to that girl; let her think that Malaga has cost me a\n hundred thousand francs. I know Clement", "had led her to make, \"can\nallow yourself to be caught like a boy! Your proceedings have made that\nwoman celebrated. My uncle wanted to see her, and he did see her. My\nuncle is not the only one; Malaga receives a great many gentlemen. I did\nthink you such a noble soul. For shame! Will she be such a loss that you\ncan't replace her?\"\n\n\"Madame, if I knew any sacrifice I could make to recover your esteem I\nwould make it; but to give up Malaga is not one--\"\n\n\"In", "to\n know the man who performed the household miracles you had\n sometimes noticed. I thought,--forgive me, madame,--I believed you\n might love me. Your good-will, your glances interpreted by me, a\n lover, seemed to me so dangerous--for me--that I invented that\n story of Malaga, knowing it was the sort of liaison which women\n cannot forgive. I did it in a moment when I felt that my love\n would be communicated, fatally, to you. Despise me, crush me with\n", "dancing!\"\n\n\"I agree to all that; I accept the condemnation and I'll leave your\nhouse. But you know Adam. If I give up the management of your property\nyou must show energy yourself. I may have been to blame about Malaga,\nbut I have taken the whole charge of your affairs, managed your\nservants, and looked after the very least details. I cannot leave you\nuntil I see you prepared to continue my management. You have now\nbeen married three years, and you are safe from the temptations to\nextravagance which come with the hone", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "dead,\nin Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of\nterror.\n\n\"My dear child,\" Madame Chapuzot would say, \"that monster--\" (a man who\ncontented himself with only looking, in a sly way,--not daring to come\nout and say things,--and such a beautiful creature too, as Malaga,--of\ncourse such a man was a monster, according to Madame Chapuzot's ideas)\n\"--that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, and make you do\nsomething illegal", "us,\" she\nremarked. \"He had better go altogether.\"\n\n\"Oh, my dear angel, that's going too far,\" said the count, who did not\nwant the death of the sinner.\n\nPaz, who knew Adam thoroughly, had enjoined him to secrecy, pretending\nto excuse his dissipations, and had asked his friend to lend him a few\nthousand francs for Malaga.\n\n\"He is a very firm fellow,\" said Adam.\n\n\"How so?\" asked Clementine.\n\n\"Why, for having spent no", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "Champs-Elysees where I have driven beside you, and\nwhere you pass. Yes, I shall grieve for Malaga's hardness--the Malaga of\nwhom I am now speaking.\"\n\nThis was said in a manner that made Clementine tremble.\n\n\"Then you do love Malaga very much?\" she asked.\n\n\"I have sacrificed for her the honor that no man should ever sacrifice.\"\n\n\"What honor?\"\n\n\"That which we desire to keep at any cost in the eyes of our idol.\"\n\nAfter that reply Thad", ") informed him that Malaga was named Marguerite Turquet, and\nlived on the fifth story of a house in the rue des Fosses-du-Temple.\n\nThe following day Paz went to the faubourg du Temple, found the house,\nand asked to see Mademoiselle Turquet, who during the summer was\nsubstituting for the leading horsewoman at the Cirque-Olympique, and a\nsupernumerary at a boulevard theatre in winter.\n\n\"Malaga!\" cried the portress, rushing into the attic,", "more than ten thousand francs on her, and\nletting her send him that letter before he would ask me for enough to\npay her debts. For a Pole, I call that firm.\"\n\n\"He will ruin you,\" said Clementine, in the sharp tone of a Parisian\nwoman, when she shows her feline distrusts.\n\n\"Oh, I know him,\" said Adam; \"he will sacrifice Malaga, if I ask him.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" remarked the countess.\n\n\"If it is best for his own happiness, I sha'n", "ary evil thought; but\nwomen see all, or see nothing, according to the condition of their\nsouls--love is their sole illuminator.\n\nDuring forty-five days Paz watched and tended Adam without appearing\nto think of Malaga, for the very good reason that he never did think of\nher. Clementine, feeling that Adam was at the point of death though he\ndid not die, sent for all the leading doctors of Paris in consultation.\n\n\"If he comes safely out of this,\" said the most distinguished of them\nall, \"it will only be", "the journey by land, and I\nam not rich, and I must leave Malaga a little independence. I ought to\nthink of the only woman who has been able to understand me; she thinks\nme grand, superior. I dare say she is faithless, but she would jump--\"\n\n\"Through the hoop, for your sake and come down safely on the back of her\nhorse,\" said Clementine sharply.\n\n\"Oh, you don't know Malaga,\" said the captain, bitterly, with a\nsarcastic look in his eyes which made Clementine" ], [ "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "\ndislike?\"\n\nAnd his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in\nthe midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance,\nwere a source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and\ncountess he had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself\nnecessary to a household which, without his devotion to its interests,\nwould infallibly have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of\nreckless prodigality? Clement", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "into it in the morning when she took\nher drive, to meet her on the boulevards in her pretty equipage,\nlooking like a flower in a whorl of leaves, inspired poor Thaddeus with\nmysterious delights, which glowed in the depths of his heart but gave no\nsigns upon his face.\n\nHow happened it that for five whole months the countess had never\nperceived the captain? Because he hid himself from her knowledge, and\ncarefully concealed the pains he took to avoid her. Nothing so resembles\nthe Divine love as", "\n\"Enough!\" said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. \"Can it be\nthat I am the victim of some noble mystification?\" she asked herself.\nThe thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the\nfollowing letter written by Thaddeus during the night:--\n\n \"Countess,--To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your\n contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When\n I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom\n we shall", "\n\"Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,\" said\nClementine, not looking at Paz.\n\n\"He loves you madly,\" replied Thaddeus.\n\n\"Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to\nlove me to-morrow,\" said the countess.\n\n\"How inexplicable Parisian women are!\" exclaimed Thaddeus. \"When they\nare loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are\nloved reasonably they reproach a man for not", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "I am yours for life.\n\n\"Marguerite Turquet.\"\n\n\n\"That letter,\" thought Thaddeus, shouting with laughter, \"is worth the\nten thousand francs I have spent upon her.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nClementine came home the next day, and the day after that Paz beheld her\nagain, more beautiful and graceful than ever. After dinner, during which\nthe countess treated Paz with an air of perfect indifference, a little\nscene took place in the salon between the count and his wife when\nThadde", "methods and\ndifficulties of the management of property, the proper prices to pay for\nthings, and how to avoid being cheated by her servants. He told her\nshe could rely on Constantin and make him her major-domo. Thaddeus had\ntrained the man thoroughly. By the end of May he thought the countess\nfully competent to carry on her affairs alone; for Clementine was one of\nthose far-sighted women, full of instinct, who have an innate genius as\nmistress of a household.\n\nThis position of affairs, which", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is" ], [ "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", "can be frank with you. Well, I would\ngive my life to save Adam. What is a woman's independence in Paris?\nthe freedom to let herself be taken in by ruined or dissipated men who\npretend to love her. I pray to God to leave me this husband who is so\nkind, so obliging, so little fault-finding, and who is beginning to\nstand in awe of me.\"\n\n\"You are honest, and I love you the better for it,\" said Thaddeus,\ntaking her hand which she yielded to him, and kiss", "methods and\ndifficulties of the management of property, the proper prices to pay for\nthings, and how to avoid being cheated by her servants. He told her\nshe could rely on Constantin and make him her major-domo. Thaddeus had\ntrained the man thoroughly. By the end of May he thought the countess\nfully competent to carry on her affairs alone; for Clementine was one of\nthose far-sighted women, full of instinct, who have an innate genius as\nmistress of a household.\n\nThis position of affairs, which", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "still beautiful to a widow\nof twenty-four.\"\n\n\"Ah! but you know that I love no one,\" she said, with the impatience of\ngrief.\n\n\"You don't yet know what it is to love,\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"Oh, as husbands are, I have sense enough to prefer a child like my poor\nAdam to a superior man. It is now over a month that we have been saying\nto each other, 'Will he live?' and these alternations have prepared me,\nas they have you, for this loss. I", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "ine's character; she will\n never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to\n Malaga.\n\n \"I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen;\n and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince\n Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken\n sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even.\n\n\"Thaddeus.\"\n\n\n\"Idiot that I was,\" thought Adam;", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations", ", and Bianchon is changing the dressings.\"\n\n\"Poor Adam! I ask myself if I have not sometimes pained him,\" she said.\n\n\"You have made him very happy,\" said Thaddeus; \"you ought to be easy on\nthat score, for you have shown every indulgence for him.\"\n\n\"My loss would be irreparable.\"\n\n\"But, dear, you judged him justly.\"\n\n\"I was never blind to his faults,\" she said, \"but I loved him as a wife\nshould love her husband.\"\n\n\"", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is" ], [ "about your relations with him,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"Paz, my dear,\" said Laginski, \"belongs to a noble family as old and\nillustrious as our own. One of the Pazzi of Florence, at the time of\ntheir disasters, fled to Poland, where he settled with some of his\nproperty and founded the Paz family, to which the title of count was\ngranted. This family, which distinguished itself greatly in the glorious\ndays of our royal republic, became rich. The graft from the tree that\nwas felled in Italy flour", "ished so vigorously in Poland that there are\nseveral branches of the family still there. I need not tell you that\nsome are rich and some are poor. Our Paz is the scion of a poor branch.\nHe was an orphan, without other fortune than his sword, when he served\nin the regiment of the Grand Duke Constantine at the time of our\nrevolution. Joining the Polish cause, he fought like a Pole, like a\npatriot, like a man who has nothing,--three good reasons for fighting\nwell. In his last affair, thinking he", "are.\n\nThe Marquis du Rouvre had squandered nearly the whole of a princely\nfortune, which he obtained originally through his marriage with a\nDemoiselle de Ronquerolles. Therefore, on her mother's side Clementine\ndu Rouvre had the Marquis de Ronquerolles for uncle, and Madame de\nSerizy for aunt. On her father's side she had another uncle in the\neccentric person of the Chevalier du Rouvre, a younger son of the house,\nan old bachelor who had become very rich by spec", "the first time I have the pleasure of seeing Comte\nPaz?\" asked the marquis.\n\n\"Because he is so shy and retiring,\" replied Clementine with a look at\nPaz telling him to change his behavior.\n\nAlas! that we should have to avow it, at the risk of rendering the\ncaptain less interesting, but Paz, though superior to his friend\nAdam, was not a man of parts. His apparent superiority was due to his\nmisfortunes. In his lonely and poverty-stricken life in Warsaw he had\nread and", "in Vienna or\nSt. Petersburg than in Paris. Equals do not need to employ delicacy or\nshrewdness in speech; they blurt out things as they are. Consequently\nthe dandies of Paris did not discover the great seigneur in the rather\nheedless young fellow who, in their talks, would flit from one subject\nto another, all the more intent upon amusement because he had just\nescaped from a great peril, and, finding himself in a city where his\nfamily was unknown, felt at liberty to lead a loose life without the\n", "thinking\nthat twenty poor Poles could have lived a year on that sum.' You must\nunderstand that the Pazzi are fully the equal of the Laginski, so I\ncouldn't regard my dear Paz as an inferior. I never went out or came in\nwithout going first to Paz, as I would to my father. My fortune is his;\nand Thaddeus knows that if danger threatened him I would fling myself\ninto it and drag him out, as I have done before.\"\n\n\"And that is saying a good deal, my dear friend,\" said the countess", "ine, brought up by a spendthrift father,\nknew nothing of the management of a household which the women of the\npresent day, however rich or noble they are, are often compelled to\nundertake themselves. How few, in these days, keep a steward. Adam, on\nthe other hand, son of one of the great Polish lords who let themselves\nbe preyed on by the Jews, and are wholly incapable of managing even the\nwreck of their vast fortunes (for fortunes are vast in Poland), was\nnot of a nature to check his own fancies or", "Why don't you bring forth your Paz?\"\n\n\"Isn't everything going on right?\" asked the count, taking the\n\"bocchettino\" of his narghile from his lips.\n\n\"Everything is going on so right that other people with an income of two\nhundred thousand francs would ruin themselves by going at our pace, and\nwe have only one hundred and ten thousand.\"\n\nSo saying she pulled the bell-cord (an exquisite bit of needlework). A\nfootman entered, dressed like a minister.\n\n\"Tell Captain Paz", "a vise. His short nose, and fair\nhair, and reddish beard and moustache made him look all the more like a\ngoat because he was small and thin, and his tarnished yellow eyes caught\nyou with that oblique look which Virgil celebrates. How came he, in\nspite of such obvious disadvantages, to possess really exquisite manners\nand a distinguished air? The problem is solved partly by the care and\nelegance of his dress, and partly by the training given him by his\nmother, a Radziwill. His courage amount", "on one of the side-paths of the\nChamps-Elysees, in the seventh heaven of delight at seeing his beautiful\ncountess in her elegant carriage with its spirited horses and sparkling\nliveries,--in short, his beloved family the admired of all.\n\n\"There's the captain,\" she said to her husband.\n\n\"He's happy!\" said Adam. \"This is his delight. He knows there's no\nequipage more elegant than ours, and he is rejoicing to think that some\npeople envy it. Have you only just noticed him?", "herself mistress of the situation,\nfor she scarcely paid attention to her husband's admiration. In fact,\nin the look which she occasionally cast at him, there seemed to be the\nconsciousness of a Frenchwoman's ascendancy over the puny, volatile, and\nred-haired Pole.\n\n\"Here comes Paz,\" said the count, hearing a step which echoed through\nthe gallery.\n\nThe countess beheld a tall and handsome man, well-made, and bearing\non his face the signs of pain which come of inward strength and secret\n", "; you have in your heart a vast domain within which\nyou live and think.' He has a right to the title of count; but in Paris\nhe won't be called anything but captain.\"\n\n\"The fact is that the Florentine of the middle-ages has reappeared in\nour century,\" said the countess. \"Dante and Michael Angelo are in him.\"\n\n\"That's the very truth,\" cried Adam. \"He is a poet in soul.\"\n\n\"So here I am, married to two Poles,\" said the young countess, with a\ngesture", "consequence, a family servant, and we reached Dantzic.\nThere we got on board a Dutch vessel and went to London. It took us two\nmonths to get there. My mother was ill in England, and expecting me.\nPaz and I took care of her till her death, which the Polish troubles\nhastened. Then we left London and came to France. Men who go through\nsuch adversities become like brothers. When I reached Paris, at\ntwenty-two years of age, and found I had an income of over sixty\nthousand francs a year, without counting", "understand, and pity.\"\n\n\"You, disgraced?\"\n\n\"Yes, I, Comte Paz; I am madly in love with a girl who travels all over\nFrance with the Bouthor family,--people who have the rival circus to\nFranconi; but they play only at fairs. I have made the director at the\nCirque-Olympique engage her.\"\n\n\"Is she handsome?\"\n\n\"To my thinking,\" said Paz, in a melancholy tone. \"Malaga (that's her\nstage name) is strong", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "do not know, countess, what charm, what unexpected\npiquancy of mind she has.\" Then, feeling his courage fail him, he added\nhastily, \"There is not a woman in society, with her mincing airs, that\nis worth the honest nature of that young animal.\"\n\n\"At any rate, I wish nothing of the animal about me,\" said the countess,\nwith a glance like that of an angry viper.\n\nAfter that evening Comte Paz showed Clementine the exact state of\nher affairs; he made himself her tutor, taught her the", "positions. As far as one can judge from merely seeing a man once, and\nalso from what you tell me, there are times when the subaltern might\nbecome the superior.\"\n\n\"Oh, Paz is truly my superior,\" said Adam, naively; \"I have no advantage\nover him except mere luck.\"\n\nHis wife kissed him for the generosity of those words.\n\n\"The extreme care with which he hides the grandeur of his feelings is\none form of his superiority,\" continued the count. \"I said to him once:\n'You are a sly one", "\"there's a fine\ngentleman wanting you. He is getting information from Chapuzot, who is\nplaying him off to give me time to tell you.\"\n\n\"Thank you, M'ame Chapuzot; but what will he think of me if he finds me\nironing my gown?\"\n\n\"Pooh! when a man's in love he loves everything about us.\"\n\n\"Is he an Englishman? they are fond of horses.\"\n\n\"No, he looks to me Spanish.\"\n\n\"That's a pity; they say Spaniards are always", "\nand the old diplomatist, but Paz, the faithful watchdog, understood\nits meaning. It was, we must remark, an affair of two seconds; but to\ndescribe the tempest it roused in the captain's soul would take far too\nmuch space in this brief history.\n\n\"What!\" he said to himself, \"do the aunt and uncle think I might be\nloved? Then my happiness only depends on my own audacity! But Adam--\"\n\nIdeal love and desire clashed with gratitude and friendship, all equally\npowerful, and,", "to me as simple-hearted as he is grand.\"\n\n\"All these pretty things you have about you,\" continued Adam, who\npraised his friend in the noblest sincerity, \"he picked up; he bought\nthem at auction, or as bargains from the dealers. Oh! he's keener than\nthey are themselves. If you see him rubbing his hands in the courtyard,\nyou may be sure he has traded away one good horse for a better. He lives\nfor me; his happiness is to see me elegant, in a perfectly appointed\nequipage" ], [ ", in his dressing-gown with a pipe in his mouth, was watching\nClementine as she entered the vestibule. The day had been a hard one for\nhim. And here is the reason why: A great and terrible emotion had taken\npossession of his heart on the day when Adam made him go to the Opera\nto see and give his opinion on Mademoiselle du Rouvre; and again when he\nsaw her on the occasion of her marriage, and recognized in her the woman\nwhom a man is forced to love exclusively. For this reason Paz strongly\nadvised and", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "promoted the long journey to Italy and elsewhere after the\nmarriage. At peace so long as Clementine was away, his trial was renewed\non the return of the happy household. As he sat at his window on this\nmemorable night, smoking his latakia in a pipe of wild-cherry wood\nsix feet long, given to him by Adam, these are the thoughts that were\npassing through his mind:--\n\n\"I, and God, who will reward me for suffering in silence, alone know\nhow I love her! But how shall I manage to have neither her love nor her", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "of an abyss described\nby Dante. The unfortunate man had never dreamed that the possibility\nmight arise of becoming Clementine's husband, and now he had drowned\nhimself in a ditch of mud. His face was convulsed, when he reached\nthe kiosk, with an agony of grief; his head, like Medusa's, conveyed\ndespair.\n\n\"Is he dead?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"They have given him up; that is, they leave him to nature. Do not go\nin; they are still there", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "that I wish to see him.\"\n\n\"If you think you are going to find out anything that way--\" said Comte\nAdam, laughing.\n\nIt is well to mention that Adam and Clementine, married in December,\n1835, had gone soon after the wedding to Italy, Switzerland, and\nGermany, where they spent the greater part of two years. Returning to\nParis in November, 1837, the countess entered society for the first time\nas a married woman during the winter which had just ended, and she then\nbecame aware", "are.\n\nThe Marquis du Rouvre had squandered nearly the whole of a princely\nfortune, which he obtained originally through his marriage with a\nDemoiselle de Ronquerolles. Therefore, on her mother's side Clementine\ndu Rouvre had the Marquis de Ronquerolles for uncle, and Madame de\nSerizy for aunt. On her father's side she had another uncle in the\neccentric person of the Chevalier du Rouvre, a younger son of the house,\nan old bachelor who had become very rich by spec", "ine had given him peace. But the countess had returned\nmore lovely than ever, enjoying the freedom which marriage brings to a\nParisian woman, displaying the graces of a young wife and the nameless\nattraction she gains from the happiness, or the independence, bestowed\nupon her by a young man as trustful, as chivalric, and as much in\nlove as Adam. To know that he was the pivot on which the splendor the\nhousehold depended, to see Clementine when she got out of her carriage\non returning from some fete, or got", "taught himself a good deal; he had compared and meditated. But\nthe gift of original thought which makes a great man he did not possess,\nand it can never be acquired. Paz, great in heart only, approached in\nheart to the sublime; but in the sphere of sentiments, being more a man\nof action than of thought, he kept his thoughts to himself; and they\nonly served therefore to eat his heart out. What, after all, is a\nthought unexpressed?\n\nAfter Clementine's little speech, the Marquis de Ronquerolles and", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "worthy of some genius of the stage.\n\n\"Dear child!\" said Adam, pressing her to him, \"it would have made me\nvery unhappy if my friend did not please you. We were both rather afraid\nof it, he and I, though he was delighted at my marriage. You will\nmake him very happy if you tell him that you love him,--yes, as an old\nfriend.\"\n\n\"I'll go and dress, the day is so fine; and we will all three ride\ntogether,\" said Clementine, ringing for her maid.\n\n\n\n\n", "for\nadmitting it, and went to bed, resolved to await events before deciding\non a course.\n\nThe next day Clementine breakfasted very contentedly without Paz, and\nwithout even noticing his disobedience to her orders. It happened to be\nher reception day, when the house was thrown open with a splendor that\nwas semi-royal. She paid no attention to the absence of Comte Paz, on\nwhom all the burden of these parade days fell.\n\n\"Good!\" thought he, as he heard the last carriages driving away at two", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "risk of disgracing his name.\n\nBut one fine day in 1834 Adam suddenly bought a house in the rue de la\nPepiniere. Six months later his style of living was second to none in\nParis. About the time when he thus began to take himself seriously he\nhad seen Clementine du Rouvre at the Opera and had fallen in love with\nher. A year later the marriage took place. The salon of Madame d'Espard\nwas the first to sound his praises. Mothers of daughters then learned\ntoo late that as far back as", "about your relations with him,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"Paz, my dear,\" said Laginski, \"belongs to a noble family as old and\nillustrious as our own. One of the Pazzi of Florence, at the time of\ntheir disasters, fled to Poland, where he settled with some of his\nproperty and founded the Paz family, to which the title of count was\ngranted. This family, which distinguished itself greatly in the glorious\ndays of our royal republic, became rich. The graft from the tree that\nwas felled in Italy flour" ], [ "about your relations with him,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"Paz, my dear,\" said Laginski, \"belongs to a noble family as old and\nillustrious as our own. One of the Pazzi of Florence, at the time of\ntheir disasters, fled to Poland, where he settled with some of his\nproperty and founded the Paz family, to which the title of count was\ngranted. This family, which distinguished itself greatly in the glorious\ndays of our royal republic, became rich. The graft from the tree that\nwas felled in Italy flour", "Laginski should,' he said, 'and you need a friend who will\ntake care of your affairs, and be a father and a brother and a trusty\nconfidant.' My dear child, as Paz said that he had in his look and\nvoice, calm as they were, a maternal emotion, and also the gratitude\nof an Arab, the fidelity of a dog, the friendship of a savage,--not\ndisplayed, but ever ready. Faith! I seized him, as we Poles do, with\na hand on each shoulder, and I kissed him on the lips.", "from the day of her\nmarriage.\n\nIt is quite unnecessary to say that the Polish count, though an exile,\nwas no expense to the French government. Comte Adam Laginski belonged\nto one of the oldest and most illustrious families in Poland, which was\nallied to many of the princely houses of Germany,--Sapieha, Radziwill,\nMniszech, Rzewuski, Czartoryski, Leczinski, Lubormirski, and all the\nother great Sarmatian SKIS. But heraldic knowledge", "the French against the\nvenerable Prince Adam Czartoryski, and the dislike shown to the better\nclass of Polish exiles by the shopkeeping Caesars and the licensed\nAlexanders of Paris.\n\nIn 1834, therefore, Adam Mitgislas Laginski was something of a butt for\nParisian pleasantry.\n\n\"He is rather nice, though he is a Pole,\" said Rastignac.\n\n\"All these Poles pretend to be great lords,\" said Maxime de Trailles,\n\"but this one does pay his", "ed courteously as\nhe asked Clementine what he could do for her.\n\n\"You are Laginski's friend!\" exclaimed the countess.\n\n\"For life and death,\" answered Paz, to whom the count threw a smile of\naffection as he drew a last puff from his perfumed pipe.\n\n\"Then why don't you take your meals with us? why did you not accompany\nus to Italy and Switzerland? why do you hide yourself in such a way that\nI am unable to thank you for the constant services that you do for us?\"\nsaid", "\nIn September, 1835, one of the richest heiresses of the faubourg\nSaint-Germain, Mademoiselle du Rouvre, the only daughter of the Marquis\ndu Rouvre, married Comte Adam Mitgislas Laginski, a young Polish exile.\n\nWe ask permission to write these Polish names as they are pronounced,\nto spare our readers the aspect of the fortifications of consonants\nby which the Slave language protects its vowels,--probably not to lose\nthem, considering how few there", "thinking\nthat twenty poor Poles could have lived a year on that sum.' You must\nunderstand that the Pazzi are fully the equal of the Laginski, so I\ncouldn't regard my dear Paz as an inferior. I never went out or came in\nwithout going first to Paz, as I would to my father. My fortune is his;\nand Thaddeus knows that if danger threatened him I would fling myself\ninto it and drag him out, as I have done before.\"\n\n\"And that is saying a good deal, my dear friend,\" said the countess", "asked Clementine, turning to her husband, who nodded by\nway of affirmation.\n\nMadame Laginska was silent, examining Adam. With her feet extended upon\na cushion and her head poised like that of a bird on the edge of\nits nest listening to the noises in a grove, she would have seemed\nenchanting even to a blase man. Fair and slender, and wearing her\nhair in curls, she was not unlike those semi-romantic pictures in\nthe Keepsakes, especially when dressed, as she was this morning, in a", "on the first occasion, that is, like a\nsoldier fit only for his duties as a steward. But this time Clementine\nwas not his dupe; his glance had enlightened her. The Marquis de\nRonquerolles, one of the ablest diplomates after Talleyrand, who had\nserved with de Marsay during his short ministry, had been informed by\nhis niece of the real worth and character of Comte Paz, and knew how\nmodestly he made himself the steward of his friend Laginski.\n\n\"And why is this", "in his ears.\n\n\"A year ago,\" he said to himself, \"she thought me a hero who could fight\nthe Russians single-handed!\"\n\nHe thought of leaving the hotel Laginski, and taking service with the\nspahis and getting killed in Africa, but the same great fear checked\nhim. \"Without me,\" he thought, \"what would become of them? they would\nsoon be ruined. Poor countess! what a horrible life it would be for her\nif she were reduced to even thirty thousand francs a year. No, since all\nis lost for me in this world", "\"I came near to cutting my throat just\nnow, talking about Malaga.\"\n\nIt is now three years since Paz went away. The newspapers have as yet\nsaid nothing about any Prince Paz. The Comtesse Laginska is immensely\ninterested in the expeditions of the Emperor Nicholas; she is Russian to\nthe core, and reads with a sort of avidity all the news that comes from\nthat distant land. Once or twice every winter she says to the Russian\nambassador, with an air of indifference, \"Do you know what has become of\nour poor Com", "of a certain friend of her own, a woman already jealous\nof her.\n\nQuite incapable, in spite of her intelligence, of suspecting such\ntreachery, the Comtesse Laginska committed the imprudence of going with\nher so-called friend to a masked ball at the Opera. About three in the\nmorning, led away by the excitement of the scene, Clementine, on whom La\nPalferine had expended his seductions, consented to accept a supper,\nand was about to enter the carriage of her faithless friend. At this", "II\n\n\nPaz was leading so subterranean a life that the fashionable world of\nParis asked who he was when the Comtesse Laginska was seen in the Bois\nde Boulogne riding between her husband and a stranger. During the ride\nClementine insisted that Thaddeus should dine with them. This caprice of\nthe sovereign lady compelled Paz to make an evening toilet. Clementine\ndressed for the occasion with a certain coquetry, in a style that\nimpressed even Adam himself when she entered the salon where the two", "ound on all sides, the heedless gayety of a Pole finds\ntwice as many encouragements as it needs to a life of dissipation.\n\nIt must be said, however, that Adam had two points against him,--his\nappearance, and his mental equipment. There are two species of Pole, as\nthere are two species of Englishwoman. When an Englishwoman is not\nvery handsome she is horribly ugly. Comte Adam belonged in the second\ncategory of human beings. His small face, rather sharp in expression,\nlooked as if it had been pressed in", "ished so vigorously in Poland that there are\nseveral branches of the family still there. I need not tell you that\nsome are rich and some are poor. Our Paz is the scion of a poor branch.\nHe was an orphan, without other fortune than his sword, when he served\nin the regiment of the Grand Duke Constantine at the time of our\nrevolution. Joining the Polish cause, he fought like a Pole, like a\npatriot, like a man who has nothing,--three good reasons for fighting\nwell. In his last affair, thinking he", "carry out some fancy\nof his own--Pooh! I'll risk it.\"\n\nA month after this eccentric interview the circus-rider was living in\na comfortable apartment furnished by Comte Adam's own upholsterer, Paz\nhaving judged it desirable to have his folly talked about at the hotel\nLaginski. Malaga, to whom this adventure was like a leaf out of the\nArabian Nights, was served by Monsieur and Madame Chapuzot in the double\ncapacity of friends and servants. The Chapuzots and Marguer", "the year 900 the family of the Laginski was\namong the most illustrious of the North. By an act of prudence which was\nvery unPolish, the mother of the young count had mortgaged her entire\nproperty on the breaking out of the insurrection for an immense sum\nlent by two Jewish bankers in Paris. Comte Adam was now in possession of\neighty thousand francs a year. When this was discovered society ceased\nto be surprised at the imprudence which had been laid to the charge\nof Madame de Serizy,", "and countess had just finished breakfast; the sky was a sheet\nof azure without a cloud, April was nearly over. They had been married\ntwo years, and Clementine had just discovered for the first time that\nthere was something resembling a secret or a mystery in her household.\nThe Pole, let us say it to his honor, is usually helpless before a\nwoman; he is so full of tenderness for her that in Poland he becomes her\ninferior, though Polish women make admirable wives. Now a Pole is still\nmore easily vanquished by a Parisian woman", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "to get in a courtyard, stables,\nand if you care for it, a garden. Inside the house he will accommodate a\nquantity of little rooms and passages. He is so clever in deceiving the\neye that you think you will have plenty of space; but it is only a nest\nof small rooms, after all, in which a ducal family has to turn itself\nabout in the space that its own bakehouse formerly occupied.\n\nThe hotel of the Comtesse Laginska, rue de la Pepiniere, is one of these\ncreations, and stands" ], [ "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "at\nadded to the martial appearance of this six-foot mystery, with eyes of\njet and Italian fervor. The amplitude of his pleated trousers, which\nallowed only the tips of his boots to be seen, revealed his faithfulness\nto the fashions of his own land. There was something really burlesque\nto a romantic woman in the striking contrast no one could fail to remark\nbetween the captain and the count, the little Pole with his pinched face\nand the stalwart soldier.\n\n\"Good morning, Adam,\" he said familiarly. Then he bow", "me?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, but he is Adam,\" returned the captain.\n\n\"And why can't Thaddeus have the same privileges?\" asked the countess,\nsmiling.\n\nThat divine smile had a power which triumphed over the heroic\nresolutions of poor Paz; he looked at Clementine with all the fire of\nhis soul in his eyes, though, even so, its flame was tempered by the\nangelic gratitude of the man whose life was based upon that virtue.\nThe countess folded her arms in her shawl,", "that,\" replied Paz, \"I can't keep it out of the newspapers,\nso I may as well tell you at once. The Emperor Nicholas has had the\ngrace to appoint me captain in a regiment which is to take part in the\nexpedition to Khiva.\"\n\n\"You are not going?\" cried Adam.\n\n\"Yes, I shall go, my dear fellow. Captain I came, and captain I return.\nWe shall dine together to-morrow for the last time. If I don't start at\nonce for St. Petersburg I shall have to make", "ound on all sides, the heedless gayety of a Pole finds\ntwice as many encouragements as it needs to a life of dissipation.\n\nIt must be said, however, that Adam had two points against him,--his\nappearance, and his mental equipment. There are two species of Pole, as\nthere are two species of Englishwoman. When an Englishwoman is not\nvery handsome she is horribly ugly. Comte Adam belonged in the second\ncategory of human beings. His small face, rather sharp in expression,\nlooked as if it had been pressed in", "\nand the old diplomatist, but Paz, the faithful watchdog, understood\nits meaning. It was, we must remark, an affair of two seconds; but to\ndescribe the tempest it roused in the captain's soul would take far too\nmuch space in this brief history.\n\n\"What!\" he said to himself, \"do the aunt and uncle think I might be\nloved? Then my happiness only depends on my own audacity! But Adam--\"\n\nIdeal love and desire clashed with gratitude and friendship, all equally\npowerful, and,", "positions. As far as one can judge from merely seeing a man once, and\nalso from what you tell me, there are times when the subaltern might\nbecome the superior.\"\n\n\"Oh, Paz is truly my superior,\" said Adam, naively; \"I have no advantage\nover him except mere luck.\"\n\nHis wife kissed him for the generosity of those words.\n\n\"The extreme care with which he hides the grandeur of his feelings is\none form of his superiority,\" continued the count. \"I said to him once:\n'You are a sly one", "on one of the side-paths of the\nChamps-Elysees, in the seventh heaven of delight at seeing his beautiful\ncountess in her elegant carriage with its spirited horses and sparkling\nliveries,--in short, his beloved family the admired of all.\n\n\"There's the captain,\" she said to her husband.\n\n\"He's happy!\" said Adam. \"This is his delight. He knows there's no\nequipage more elegant than ours, and he is rejoicing to think that some\npeople envy it. Have you only just noticed him?", "the first time I have the pleasure of seeing Comte\nPaz?\" asked the marquis.\n\n\"Because he is so shy and retiring,\" replied Clementine with a look at\nPaz telling him to change his behavior.\n\nAlas! that we should have to avow it, at the risk of rendering the\ncaptain less interesting, but Paz, though superior to his friend\nAdam, was not a man of parts. His apparent superiority was due to his\nmisfortunes. In his lonely and poverty-stricken life in Warsaw he had\nread and", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "\nthat excited the admiration of the doctors. At all hours his watchful\neyes were like lamps always lighted. He showed no resentment to\nClementine, and listened to her thanks without accepting them; he seemed\nboth dumb and deaf. To himself he was saying, \"She shall owe his life to\nme,\" and he wrote the thought as it were in letters of fire on the walls\nof Adam's room. On the fifteenth day Clementine was forced to give up\nthe nursing, lest she should utterly break down. Paz was unwearied. At\n", ". Consequently Comte Adam,\npressed by questions, did not even attempt the innocent roguery of\nselling the suspected secret. It is always wise with a woman to get\nsome good out of a mystery; she will like you the better for it, as a\nswindler respects an honest man the more when he finds he cannot swindle\nhim. Brave in heart but not in speech, Comte Adam merely stipulated that\nhe should not be compelled to answer until he had finished his narghile.\n\n\"If any difficulty occurred when we were travelling,\" said Clement", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "a few words to him. The first day that Adam was able to drive\nout with his wife and Thaddeus, a gentleman entered the courtyard as the\ncarriage was about to leave it, and asked for Comte Paz. Thaddeus, who\nwas sitting on the front seat of the caleche, turned to take a letter\nwhich bore the stamp of the ministry of Foreign affairs. Having read it,\nhe put it into his pocket in a manner which prevented Clementine or Adam\nfrom speaking of it. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the porte\nMaillot,", "deus said no more; he was silent until, as they\npassed a wooden building on the Champs Elysees, he said, pointing to it,\n\"That is the Circus.\"\n\nHe went to the Russian Embassy before dinner, and thence to the Foreign\noffice, and the next morning he had started for Havre before the count\nand countess were up.\n\n\"I have lost a friend,\" said Adam, with tears in his eyes, when he heard\nthat Paz had gone,--\"a friend in the true meaning of the word. I don'", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "us,\" she\nremarked. \"He had better go altogether.\"\n\n\"Oh, my dear angel, that's going too far,\" said the count, who did not\nwant the death of the sinner.\n\nPaz, who knew Adam thoroughly, had enjoined him to secrecy, pretending\nto excuse his dissipations, and had asked his friend to lend him a few\nthousand francs for Malaga.\n\n\"He is a very firm fellow,\" said Adam.\n\n\"How so?\" asked Clementine.\n\n\"Why, for having spent no" ], [ ", in his dressing-gown with a pipe in his mouth, was watching\nClementine as she entered the vestibule. The day had been a hard one for\nhim. And here is the reason why: A great and terrible emotion had taken\npossession of his heart on the day when Adam made him go to the Opera\nto see and give his opinion on Mademoiselle du Rouvre; and again when he\nsaw her on the occasion of her marriage, and recognized in her the woman\nwhom a man is forced to love exclusively. For this reason Paz strongly\nadvised and", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "most men would try to seem more amiable than I.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" she said, \"I am not sure but what there is some _calculation_ in\nhis behavior; he would have taken in an ordinary woman.\"\n\nHalf an hour later, when the chasseur, Boleslas, called out \"Gate!\" and\nthe carriage was waiting for it to swing back, Clementine said to her\nhusband, \"Where does the captain perch?\"\n\n\"Why, there!\" replied Adam, pointing to a floor above the porte-cochere\nwhich had one window", "asked Clementine, turning to her husband, who nodded by\nway of affirmation.\n\nMadame Laginska was silent, examining Adam. With her feet extended upon\na cushion and her head poised like that of a bird on the edge of\nits nest listening to the noises in a grove, she would have seemed\nenchanting even to a blase man. Fair and slender, and wearing her\nhair in curls, she was not unlike those semi-romantic pictures in\nthe Keepsakes, especially when dressed, as she was this morning, in a", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "to make him go to the theatre with me when I was alone, or to\nthe jovial little dinners I used to give at a tavern. He doesn't like\nsocial life.\"\n\n\"What does he like, then?\" asked Clementine.\n\n\"Poland; he loves Poland and pines for it. His only spendings are\nsums he gives, more in my name than in his own, to some of our poor\nbrother-exiles.\"\n\n\"Well, I shall love him, the fine fellow!\" said the countess, \"he looks\n", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "do not know, countess, what charm, what unexpected\npiquancy of mind she has.\" Then, feeling his courage fail him, he added\nhastily, \"There is not a woman in society, with her mincing airs, that\nis worth the honest nature of that young animal.\"\n\n\"At any rate, I wish nothing of the animal about me,\" said the countess,\nwith a glance like that of an angry viper.\n\nAfter that evening Comte Paz showed Clementine the exact state of\nher affairs; he made himself her tutor, taught her the", "ine had given him peace. But the countess had returned\nmore lovely than ever, enjoying the freedom which marriage brings to a\nParisian woman, displaying the graces of a young wife and the nameless\nattraction she gains from the happiness, or the independence, bestowed\nupon her by a young man as trustful, as chivalric, and as much in\nlove as Adam. To know that he was the pivot on which the splendor the\nhousehold depended, to see Clementine when she got out of her carriage\non returning from some fete, or got", "is a lady's boudoir in 1837,--an exhibition of the contents of many\nshops, which amuse the eye, as if ennui were the one thing to be dreaded\nby the social world of the liveliest and most stirring capital in\nEurope. Why is there nothing of an inner life? nothing which leads to\nrevery, nothing reposeful? Why indeed? Because no one in our day is sure\nof the future; we are living our lives like prodigal annuitants.\n\nOne morning Clementine appeared to be thinking of something", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "as she goes through, and lighting so gracefully on the galloping\nhorse to such applause,--no hired clapping,--well, all that moves me.\"\n\n\"More than a handsome woman in a ballroom?\" asked Clementine, with\namazement and curiosity.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Paz, in a choking voice. \"Such agility, such grace under\nconstant danger seems to me the height of triumph for a woman. Yes,\nmadame, Cinti and Malibran, Grisi and Taglioni, Pasta and Ellsler, all\n", "the first time I have the pleasure of seeing Comte\nPaz?\" asked the marquis.\n\n\"Because he is so shy and retiring,\" replied Clementine with a look at\nPaz telling him to change his behavior.\n\nAlas! that we should have to avow it, at the risk of rendering the\ncaptain less interesting, but Paz, though superior to his friend\nAdam, was not a man of parts. His apparent superiority was due to his\nmisfortunes. In his lonely and poverty-stricken life in Warsaw he had\nread and", "\n\"Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,\" said\nClementine, not looking at Paz.\n\n\"He loves you madly,\" replied Thaddeus.\n\n\"Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to\nlove me to-morrow,\" said the countess.\n\n\"How inexplicable Parisian women are!\" exclaimed Thaddeus. \"When they\nare loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are\nloved reasonably they reproach a man for not", "worthy of some genius of the stage.\n\n\"Dear child!\" said Adam, pressing her to him, \"it would have made me\nvery unhappy if my friend did not please you. We were both rather afraid\nof it, he and I, though he was delighted at my marriage. You will\nmake him very happy if you tell him that you love him,--yes, as an old\nfriend.\"\n\n\"I'll go and dress, the day is so fine; and we will all three ride\ntogether,\" said Clementine, ringing for her maid.\n\n\n\n\n", "\"there's a fine\ngentleman wanting you. He is getting information from Chapuzot, who is\nplaying him off to give me time to tell you.\"\n\n\"Thank you, M'ame Chapuzot; but what will he think of me if he finds me\nironing my gown?\"\n\n\"Pooh! when a man's in love he loves everything about us.\"\n\n\"Is he an Englishman? they are fond of horses.\"\n\n\"No, he looks to me Spanish.\"\n\n\"That's a pity; they say Spaniards are always", "had come into his head.\n\n\"I--I am going to the Circus in the Champs Elysees; it opens to-night,\nand I can't miss it.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" said Clementine, questioning him by a look that was\nhalf-anger.\n\n\"Must I tell you why?\" he said, coloring; \"must I confide to you what I\nhide from Adam, who thinks my only love is Poland.\"\n\n\"Ah! a secret in our noble captain?\"\n\n\"A disgraceful one--which you will perhaps", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n" ], [ "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", "I am yours for life.\n\n\"Marguerite Turquet.\"\n\n\n\"That letter,\" thought Thaddeus, shouting with laughter, \"is worth the\nten thousand francs I have spent upon her.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nClementine came home the next day, and the day after that Paz beheld her\nagain, more beautiful and graceful than ever. After dinner, during which\nthe countess treated Paz with an air of perfect indifference, a little\nscene took place in the salon between the count and his wife when\nThadde", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "\n\"Enough!\" said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. \"Can it be\nthat I am the victim of some noble mystification?\" she asked herself.\nThe thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the\nfollowing letter written by Thaddeus during the night:--\n\n \"Countess,--To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your\n contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When\n I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom\n we shall", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "\ndislike?\"\n\nAnd his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in\nthe midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance,\nwere a source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and\ncountess he had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself\nnecessary to a household which, without his devotion to its interests,\nwould infallibly have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of\nreckless prodigality? Clement", ", and Bianchon is changing the dressings.\"\n\n\"Poor Adam! I ask myself if I have not sometimes pained him,\" she said.\n\n\"You have made him very happy,\" said Thaddeus; \"you ought to be easy on\nthat score, for you have shown every indulgence for him.\"\n\n\"My loss would be irreparable.\"\n\n\"But, dear, you judged him justly.\"\n\n\"I was never blind to his faults,\" she said, \"but I loved him as a wife\nshould love her husband.\"\n\n\"", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is" ], [ "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "then she crushed him with the\nwords, \"Poor Malaga!\" uttered in tones which a great lady alone can\nfind to give expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half\nunconscious behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to\nAdam's chamber.\n\nAn hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death\nin his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing.\nHe was forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing", "Champs-Elysees where I have driven beside you, and\nwhere you pass. Yes, I shall grieve for Malaga's hardness--the Malaga of\nwhom I am now speaking.\"\n\nThis was said in a manner that made Clementine tremble.\n\n\"Then you do love Malaga very much?\" she asked.\n\n\"I have sacrificed for her the honor that no man should ever sacrifice.\"\n\n\"What honor?\"\n\n\"That which we desire to keep at any cost in the eyes of our idol.\"\n\nAfter that reply Thad", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "had led her to make, \"can\nallow yourself to be caught like a boy! Your proceedings have made that\nwoman celebrated. My uncle wanted to see her, and he did see her. My\nuncle is not the only one; Malaga receives a great many gentlemen. I did\nthink you such a noble soul. For shame! Will she be such a loss that you\ncan't replace her?\"\n\n\"Madame, if I knew any sacrifice I could make to recover your esteem I\nwould make it; but to give up Malaga is not one--\"\n\n\"In", "\n\n\"Now, Thaddeus, if you will do me this service we shall be forever\nquits,--though, indeed, I am your debtor now.\"\n\n\"Adam, you will have children; don't gamble any more,\" said Paz.\n\n\"So Malaga has cost us another twenty thousand francs,\" cried the\ncountess, some time later, when she discovered this new generosity to\nPaz. \"First, ten thousand, now twenty more,--thirty thousand! the income\nof which is fifteen hundred! the cost of my box at the", "s, for\nit did not really take form or poesy till the grand galop in \"Gustave\"\nwas given to the world. That tremendous finale might serve as the symbol\nof an epoch in which for the last fifty years all things have hurried by\nwith the rapidity of a dream.\n\nNow, it happened that the grave Thaddeus, with one divine and immaculate\nimage in his heart, proposed to Malaga, the queen of the carnival\ndances, to spend an evening at the Musard ball; because he knew the\ncountess, disguised", "dead,\nin Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of\nterror.\n\n\"My dear child,\" Madame Chapuzot would say, \"that monster--\" (a man who\ncontented himself with only looking, in a sly way,--not daring to come\nout and say things,--and such a beautiful creature too, as Malaga,--of\ncourse such a man was a monster, according to Madame Chapuzot's ideas)\n\"--that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, and make you do\nsomething illegal", "Paz.\"\n\n\n\"If my poor Adam says he has lost a friend, what have I lost?\" thought\nClementine, sinking into a chair with her eyes fixed on the carpet.\n\nThe following letter Constantin had orders to give privately to the\ncount:--\n\n \"My dear Adam,--Malaga has told me all. In the name of all your\n future happiness, never let a word escape you to Clementine about\n your visits to that girl; let her think that Malaga has cost me a\n hundred thousand francs. I know Clement", "have furniture!\" cried Malaga, looking at Madame Chapuzot.\n\n\"And servants,\" said Paz, \"and all you want.\"\n\nMalaga looked at the stranger suspiciously.\n\n\"What countryman is monsieur?\"\n\n\"I am a Pole.\"\n\n\"Oh! then I accept,\" she said.\n\nPaz departed, promising to return.\n\n\"Well, that's a stiff one!\" said Marguerite Turquet, looking at Madame\nChapuzot; \"I'm half afraid he is wheedling me, to", "more than ten thousand francs on her, and\nletting her send him that letter before he would ask me for enough to\npay her debts. For a Pole, I call that firm.\"\n\n\"He will ruin you,\" said Clementine, in the sharp tone of a Parisian\nwoman, when she shows her feline distrusts.\n\n\"Oh, I know him,\" said Adam; \"he will sacrifice Malaga, if I ask him.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" remarked the countess.\n\n\"If it is best for his own happiness, I sha'n", "to\n know the man who performed the household miracles you had\n sometimes noticed. I thought,--forgive me, madame,--I believed you\n might love me. Your good-will, your glances interpreted by me, a\n lover, seemed to me so dangerous--for me--that I invented that\n story of Malaga, knowing it was the sort of liaison which women\n cannot forgive. I did it in a moment when I felt that my love\n would be communicated, fatally, to you. Despise me, crush me with\n", "\ncould be more straightforward, more gallant.\"\n\n\"But I am not gallant, my good lady,\" exclaimed Paz. \"I am an\nunfortunate father who tries to deceive himself by a resemblance.\"\n\n\"Then am I to pass for your daughter?\" said Malaga, slyly, and not in\nthe least suspecting the perfect sincerity of his proposal.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Paz, \"and I'll come and see you sometimes. But you shall be\nlodged in better rooms, comfortably furnished.\"\n\n\"I shall", "her. In fact, before long Malaga was\nvery much talked about in the questionable world of equivocal women, who\npresently attacked her good fortune by calumnies. They said she was\na somnambulist, and the Pole was a magnetizer who was using her to\ndiscover the philosopher's stone. Some even more envenomed scandals\ndrove her to a curiosity that was greater than Psyche's. She reported\nthem in tears to Paz.\n\n\"When I want to injure a woman,\" she said in conclusion, \"" ], [ "in Vienna or\nSt. Petersburg than in Paris. Equals do not need to employ delicacy or\nshrewdness in speech; they blurt out things as they are. Consequently\nthe dandies of Paris did not discover the great seigneur in the rather\nheedless young fellow who, in their talks, would flit from one subject\nto another, all the more intent upon amusement because he had just\nescaped from a great peril, and, finding himself in a city where his\nfamily was unknown, felt at liberty to lead a loose life without the\n", "ymoon. I see that Parisian\nwomen, and even titled ones, do manage both their fortunes and their\nhouseholds. Well, as soon as I am certain not so much of your capacity\nas of your perseverance I shall leave Paris.\"\n\n\"It is Thaddeus of Warsaw, and not that Circus Thaddeus who speaks now,\"\nsaid Clementine. \"Go, and come back cured.\"\n\n\"Cured! never,\" said Paz, his eyes lowered and fixed on Clementine's\npretty feet. \"You", "\nof his interests.\"\n\n\"And you remain standing for your pleasure, too,\" remarked Comte Adam.\n\nPaz sat down on a chair near the door.\n\n\"I remember seeing you about the time I was married, and afterwards\nin the courtyard,\" said Clementine. \"But why do you put yourself in a\nposition of inferiority,--you, Adam's friend?\"\n\n\"I am perfectly indifferent to the opinion of the Parisians,\" he\nreplied. \"I live for myself, or, if you like, for you two.\"\n\n\"But the", "Brussels\nand died there after going into bankruptcy. The Englishman died in\nParis, of Paris; for to many persons Paris is a disease,--sometimes\nseveral diseases. His widow, a Methodist, had a horror of the little\nnabob establishment, and ordered it to be sold. Comte Adam bought it at\na bargain; and how he came to do so shall presently be made known, for\nbargains were not at all in his line as a grand seigneur.\n\nBehind the house lay the verdant velvet of an English", "ified by the name of sagacity.\nThey turned their backs on a Russian prince with whom they had all been\non intimate terms during the Emigration, merely because it was said that\nthe Emperor Nicholas gave him the cold shoulder. Between the caution\nof the court and the prudence of the diplomates, the Polish exiles of\ndistinction lived in Paris in the Biblical solitude of \"super flumina\nBabylonis,\" or else they haunted a few salons which were the neutral\nground of all opinions. In a city of pleasure, like Paris, where\namusements ab", "\n\"Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,\" said\nClementine, not looking at Paz.\n\n\"He loves you madly,\" replied Thaddeus.\n\n\"Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to\nlove me to-morrow,\" said the countess.\n\n\"How inexplicable Parisian women are!\" exclaimed Thaddeus. \"When they\nare loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are\nloved reasonably they reproach a man for not", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "thoughtful and uneasy.\n\n\"Good-by to the young trees of this beautiful Bois, which you Parisians\nlove, and the exiles who find a home here love too,\" he said,\npresently. \"My eyes will never again see the evergreens of the avenue de\nMademoiselle, nor the acacias nor the cedars of the rond-points. On\nthe borders of Asia, fighting for the Emperor, promoted to the command,\nperhaps, by force of courage and by risking my life, it may happen that\nI shall regret these", "intervals; now they are always on the scene.\nClementine found she had to struggle for her supremacy. She was cited,\nand that alone brought jealousies; and the care and watchfulness exacted\nby this contest with her rivals left little time even to love her\nhusband. Paz might well be forgotten. Nevertheless, in the month of\nMay, as she drove home from the Bois, just before she left Paris for\nRonquerolles, her uncle's estate in Burgundy, she noticed Thaddeus,\nelegantly dressed, sauntering", "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "deus said no more; he was silent until, as they\npassed a wooden building on the Champs Elysees, he said, pointing to it,\n\"That is the Circus.\"\n\nHe went to the Russian Embassy before dinner, and thence to the Foreign\noffice, and the next morning he had started for Havre before the count\nand countess were up.\n\n\"I have lost a friend,\" said Adam, with tears in his eyes, when he heard\nthat Paz had gone,--\"a friend in the true meaning of the word. I don'", "consequence, a family servant, and we reached Dantzic.\nThere we got on board a Dutch vessel and went to London. It took us two\nmonths to get there. My mother was ill in England, and expecting me.\nPaz and I took care of her till her death, which the Polish troubles\nhastened. Then we left London and came to France. Men who go through\nsuch adversities become like brothers. When I reached Paris, at\ntwenty-two years of age, and found I had an income of over sixty\nthousand francs a year, without counting", ", and de\nMaufrigneuse, the flowers of our present Paris, who live at such\nimmeasurable distance from the parvenus, the vulgarians, and the\nspeculators of the new regime.\n\nThis preamble is necessary to show the sphere in which was done one\nof those noble actions, less rare than the calumniators of our time\nadmit,--actions which, like pearls, the fruit of pain and suffering, are\nhidden within rough shells, lost in the gulf, the sea, the tossing waves\nof what we call", "\ncritical moment her arm was grasped by a powerful hand, and she was\ntaken, in spite of her struggles, to her own carriage, the door of which\nstood open, though she did not know it was there.\n\n\"He has never left Paris!\" she exclaimed to herself as she recognized\nThaddeus, who disappeared when the carriage drove away.\n\nDid any woman ever have a like romance in her life? Clementine is\nconstantly hoping she may again see Paz.\n\n\n\n\nADDENDUM\n\nThe following personages appear in other stories of", "and countess had just finished breakfast; the sky was a sheet\nof azure without a cloud, April was nearly over. They had been married\ntwo years, and Clementine had just discovered for the first time that\nthere was something resembling a secret or a mystery in her household.\nThe Pole, let us say it to his honor, is usually helpless before a\nwoman; he is so full of tenderness for her that in Poland he becomes her\ninferior, though Polish women make admirable wives. Now a Pole is still\nmore easily vanquished by a Parisian woman", "\"I came near to cutting my throat just\nnow, talking about Malaga.\"\n\nIt is now three years since Paz went away. The newspapers have as yet\nsaid nothing about any Prince Paz. The Comtesse Laginska is immensely\ninterested in the expeditions of the Emperor Nicholas; she is Russian to\nthe core, and reads with a sort of avidity all the news that comes from\nthat distant land. Once or twice every winter she says to the Russian\nambassador, with an air of indifference, \"Do you know what has become of\nour poor Com", "taught himself a good deal; he had compared and meditated. But\nthe gift of original thought which makes a great man he did not possess,\nand it can never be acquired. Paz, great in heart only, approached in\nheart to the sublime; but in the sphere of sentiments, being more a man\nof action than of thought, he kept his thoughts to himself; and they\nonly served therefore to eat his heart out. What, after all, is a\nthought unexpressed?\n\nAfter Clementine's little speech, the Marquis de Ronquerolles and", "with what ardor I have ransacked\n Paris when Adam would say to me, '_She_ wants this or that.' It was\n a joy such as I can never express to you. You wished for a trifle\n at one time which kept me seven hours in a cab scouring the city;\n and what delight it was to weary myself for you. Ah! when I saw\n you, unseen by you, smiling among your flowers, I could forget\n that no one loved me. On certain days, when my happiness turned my\n head, I went", "forehead, pressed her hand, and went away, taking Adam with her\nand leaving the Marquis de Ronquerolles and the Marquis du Rouvre, who\nsoon followed. Paz and Clementine were alone together.\n\n\"I will leave you now, madame,\" said Thaddeus. \"You will of course\nrejoin them at the Opera?\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered, \"I don't like dancing, and they give an odious\nballet to-night 'La Revolte au Serail.'\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence.\n", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n" ], [ "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "then she crushed him with the\nwords, \"Poor Malaga!\" uttered in tones which a great lady alone can\nfind to give expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half\nunconscious behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to\nAdam's chamber.\n\nAn hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death\nin his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing.\nHe was forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing", "Champs-Elysees where I have driven beside you, and\nwhere you pass. Yes, I shall grieve for Malaga's hardness--the Malaga of\nwhom I am now speaking.\"\n\nThis was said in a manner that made Clementine tremble.\n\n\"Then you do love Malaga very much?\" she asked.\n\n\"I have sacrificed for her the honor that no man should ever sacrifice.\"\n\n\"What honor?\"\n\n\"That which we desire to keep at any cost in the eyes of our idol.\"\n\nAfter that reply Thad", ") informed him that Malaga was named Marguerite Turquet, and\nlived on the fifth story of a house in the rue des Fosses-du-Temple.\n\nThe following day Paz went to the faubourg du Temple, found the house,\nand asked to see Mademoiselle Turquet, who during the summer was\nsubstituting for the leading horsewoman at the Cirque-Olympique, and a\nsupernumerary at a boulevard theatre in winter.\n\n\"Malaga!\" cried the portress, rushing into the attic,", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "s, for\nit did not really take form or poesy till the grand galop in \"Gustave\"\nwas given to the world. That tremendous finale might serve as the symbol\nof an epoch in which for the last fifty years all things have hurried by\nwith the rapidity of a dream.\n\nNow, it happened that the grave Thaddeus, with one divine and immaculate\nimage in his heart, proposed to Malaga, the queen of the carnival\ndances, to spend an evening at the Musard ball; because he knew the\ncountess, disguised", "dead,\nin Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of\nterror.\n\n\"My dear child,\" Madame Chapuzot would say, \"that monster--\" (a man who\ncontented himself with only looking, in a sly way,--not daring to come\nout and say things,--and such a beautiful creature too, as Malaga,--of\ncourse such a man was a monster, according to Madame Chapuzot's ideas)\n\"--that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, and make you do\nsomething illegal", "had led her to make, \"can\nallow yourself to be caught like a boy! Your proceedings have made that\nwoman celebrated. My uncle wanted to see her, and he did see her. My\nuncle is not the only one; Malaga receives a great many gentlemen. I did\nthink you such a noble soul. For shame! Will she be such a loss that you\ncan't replace her?\"\n\n\"Madame, if I knew any sacrifice I could make to recover your esteem I\nwould make it; but to give up Malaga is not one--\"\n\n\"In", "her. In fact, before long Malaga was\nvery much talked about in the questionable world of equivocal women, who\npresently attacked her good fortune by calumnies. They said she was\na somnambulist, and the Pole was a magnetizer who was using her to\ndiscover the philosopher's stone. Some even more envenomed scandals\ndrove her to a curiosity that was greater than Psyche's. She reported\nthem in tears to Paz.\n\n\"When I want to injure a woman,\" she said in conclusion, \"", "have furniture!\" cried Malaga, looking at Madame Chapuzot.\n\n\"And servants,\" said Paz, \"and all you want.\"\n\nMalaga looked at the stranger suspiciously.\n\n\"What countryman is monsieur?\"\n\n\"I am a Pole.\"\n\n\"Oh! then I accept,\" she said.\n\nPaz departed, promising to return.\n\n\"Well, that's a stiff one!\" said Marguerite Turquet, looking at Madame\nChapuzot; \"I'm half afraid he is wheedling me, to", "to\n know the man who performed the household miracles you had\n sometimes noticed. I thought,--forgive me, madame,--I believed you\n might love me. Your good-will, your glances interpreted by me, a\n lover, seemed to me so dangerous--for me--that I invented that\n story of Malaga, knowing it was the sort of liaison which women\n cannot forgive. I did it in a moment when I felt that my love\n would be communicated, fatally, to you. Despise me, crush me with\n", "ine's character; she will\n never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to\n Malaga.\n\n \"I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen;\n and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince\n Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken\n sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even.\n\n\"Thaddeus.\"\n\n\n\"Idiot that I was,\" thought Adam;", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "\"I came near to cutting my throat just\nnow, talking about Malaga.\"\n\nIt is now three years since Paz went away. The newspapers have as yet\nsaid nothing about any Prince Paz. The Comtesse Laginska is immensely\ninterested in the expeditions of the Emperor Nicholas; she is Russian to\nthe core, and reads with a sort of avidity all the news that comes from\nthat distant land. Once or twice every winter she says to the Russian\nambassador, with an air of indifference, \"Do you know what has become of\nour poor Com" ], [ "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "ymoon. I see that Parisian\nwomen, and even titled ones, do manage both their fortunes and their\nhouseholds. Well, as soon as I am certain not so much of your capacity\nas of your perseverance I shall leave Paris.\"\n\n\"It is Thaddeus of Warsaw, and not that Circus Thaddeus who speaks now,\"\nsaid Clementine. \"Go, and come back cured.\"\n\n\"Cured! never,\" said Paz, his eyes lowered and fixed on Clementine's\npretty feet. \"You", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "can be frank with you. Well, I would\ngive my life to save Adam. What is a woman's independence in Paris?\nthe freedom to let herself be taken in by ruined or dissipated men who\npretend to love her. I pray to God to leave me this husband who is so\nkind, so obliging, so little fault-finding, and who is beginning to\nstand in awe of me.\"\n\n\"You are honest, and I love you the better for it,\" said Thaddeus,\ntaking her hand which she yielded to him, and kiss", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", "a few words to him. The first day that Adam was able to drive\nout with his wife and Thaddeus, a gentleman entered the courtyard as the\ncarriage was about to leave it, and asked for Comte Paz. Thaddeus, who\nwas sitting on the front seat of the caleche, turned to take a letter\nwhich bore the stamp of the ministry of Foreign affairs. Having read it,\nhe put it into his pocket in a manner which prevented Clementine or Adam\nfrom speaking of it. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the porte\nMaillot,", "\n\"Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,\" said\nClementine, not looking at Paz.\n\n\"He loves you madly,\" replied Thaddeus.\n\n\"Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to\nlove me to-morrow,\" said the countess.\n\n\"How inexplicable Parisian women are!\" exclaimed Thaddeus. \"When they\nare loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are\nloved reasonably they reproach a man for not", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "forehead, pressed her hand, and went away, taking Adam with her\nand leaving the Marquis de Ronquerolles and the Marquis du Rouvre, who\nsoon followed. Paz and Clementine were alone together.\n\n\"I will leave you now, madame,\" said Thaddeus. \"You will of course\nrejoin them at the Opera?\"\n\n\"No,\" she answered, \"I don't like dancing, and they give an odious\nballet to-night 'La Revolte au Serail.'\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence.\n", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "intervals; now they are always on the scene.\nClementine found she had to struggle for her supremacy. She was cited,\nand that alone brought jealousies; and the care and watchfulness exacted\nby this contest with her rivals left little time even to love her\nhusband. Paz might well be forgotten. Nevertheless, in the month of\nMay, as she drove home from the Bois, just before she left Paris for\nRonquerolles, her uncle's estate in Burgundy, she noticed Thaddeus,\nelegantly dressed, sauntering", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "\nreally suppose you were not at home. You must have made a wager to\ndisconcert Clementine.\" Thaddeus continued heavy and half asleep.\nWhen the servants left the room at the end of the dessert the captain\nexplained that his habits were diametrically opposite to those of\nsociety,--he went to bed at eight o'clock and got up very early in the\nmorning; and he excused his dulness on the ground of being sleepy.\n\n\"My intention in taking you to the Opera was to amuse you, captain; but\n", "in Vienna or\nSt. Petersburg than in Paris. Equals do not need to employ delicacy or\nshrewdness in speech; they blurt out things as they are. Consequently\nthe dandies of Paris did not discover the great seigneur in the rather\nheedless young fellow who, in their talks, would flit from one subject\nto another, all the more intent upon amusement because he had just\nescaped from a great peril, and, finding himself in a city where his\nfamily was unknown, felt at liberty to lead a loose life without the\n", "\n\"Enough!\" said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. \"Can it be\nthat I am the victim of some noble mystification?\" she asked herself.\nThe thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the\nfollowing letter written by Thaddeus during the night:--\n\n \"Countess,--To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your\n contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When\n I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom\n we shall" ], [ "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "can be frank with you. Well, I would\ngive my life to save Adam. What is a woman's independence in Paris?\nthe freedom to let herself be taken in by ruined or dissipated men who\npretend to love her. I pray to God to leave me this husband who is so\nkind, so obliging, so little fault-finding, and who is beginning to\nstand in awe of me.\"\n\n\"You are honest, and I love you the better for it,\" said Thaddeus,\ntaking her hand which she yielded to him, and kiss", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "me?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, but he is Adam,\" returned the captain.\n\n\"And why can't Thaddeus have the same privileges?\" asked the countess,\nsmiling.\n\nThat divine smile had a power which triumphed over the heroic\nresolutions of poor Paz; he looked at Clementine with all the fire of\nhis soul in his eyes, though, even so, its flame was tempered by the\nangelic gratitude of the man whose life was based upon that virtue.\nThe countess folded her arms in her shawl,", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "still beautiful to a widow\nof twenty-four.\"\n\n\"Ah! but you know that I love no one,\" she said, with the impatience of\ngrief.\n\n\"You don't yet know what it is to love,\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"Oh, as husbands are, I have sense enough to prefer a child like my poor\nAdam to a superior man. It is now over a month that we have been saying\nto each other, 'Will he live?' and these alternations have prepared me,\nas they have you, for this loss. I", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "a few words to him. The first day that Adam was able to drive\nout with his wife and Thaddeus, a gentleman entered the courtyard as the\ncarriage was about to leave it, and asked for Comte Paz. Thaddeus, who\nwas sitting on the front seat of the caleche, turned to take a letter\nwhich bore the stamp of the ministry of Foreign affairs. Having read it,\nhe put it into his pocket in a manner which prevented Clementine or Adam\nfrom speaking of it. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the porte\nMaillot,", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", ", and Bianchon is changing the dressings.\"\n\n\"Poor Adam! I ask myself if I have not sometimes pained him,\" she said.\n\n\"You have made him very happy,\" said Thaddeus; \"you ought to be easy on\nthat score, for you have shown every indulgence for him.\"\n\n\"My loss would be irreparable.\"\n\n\"But, dear, you judged him justly.\"\n\n\"I was never blind to his faults,\" she said, \"but I loved him as a wife\nshould love her husband.\"\n\n\"" ], [ "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing", "then she crushed him with the\nwords, \"Poor Malaga!\" uttered in tones which a great lady alone can\nfind to give expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half\nunconscious behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to\nAdam's chamber.\n\nAn hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death\nin his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing.\nHe was forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", "Champs-Elysees where I have driven beside you, and\nwhere you pass. Yes, I shall grieve for Malaga's hardness--the Malaga of\nwhom I am now speaking.\"\n\nThis was said in a manner that made Clementine tremble.\n\n\"Then you do love Malaga very much?\" she asked.\n\n\"I have sacrificed for her the honor that no man should ever sacrifice.\"\n\n\"What honor?\"\n\n\"That which we desire to keep at any cost in the eyes of our idol.\"\n\nAfter that reply Thad", "s, for\nit did not really take form or poesy till the grand galop in \"Gustave\"\nwas given to the world. That tremendous finale might serve as the symbol\nof an epoch in which for the last fifty years all things have hurried by\nwith the rapidity of a dream.\n\nNow, it happened that the grave Thaddeus, with one divine and immaculate\nimage in his heart, proposed to Malaga, the queen of the carnival\ndances, to spend an evening at the Musard ball; because he knew the\ncountess, disguised", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "\n\n\"Now, Thaddeus, if you will do me this service we shall be forever\nquits,--though, indeed, I am your debtor now.\"\n\n\"Adam, you will have children; don't gamble any more,\" said Paz.\n\n\"So Malaga has cost us another twenty thousand francs,\" cried the\ncountess, some time later, when she discovered this new generosity to\nPaz. \"First, ten thousand, now twenty more,--thirty thousand! the income\nof which is fifteen hundred! the cost of my box at the", "dead,\nin Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of\nterror.\n\n\"My dear child,\" Madame Chapuzot would say, \"that monster--\" (a man who\ncontented himself with only looking, in a sly way,--not daring to come\nout and say things,--and such a beautiful creature too, as Malaga,--of\ncourse such a man was a monster, according to Madame Chapuzot's ideas)\n\"--that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, and make you do\nsomething illegal", ") informed him that Malaga was named Marguerite Turquet, and\nlived on the fifth story of a house in the rue des Fosses-du-Temple.\n\nThe following day Paz went to the faubourg du Temple, found the house,\nand asked to see Mademoiselle Turquet, who during the summer was\nsubstituting for the leading horsewoman at the Cirque-Olympique, and a\nsupernumerary at a boulevard theatre in winter.\n\n\"Malaga!\" cried the portress, rushing into the attic,", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "ine's character; she will\n never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to\n Malaga.\n\n \"I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen;\n and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince\n Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken\n sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even.\n\n\"Thaddeus.\"\n\n\n\"Idiot that I was,\" thought Adam;", "have furniture!\" cried Malaga, looking at Madame Chapuzot.\n\n\"And servants,\" said Paz, \"and all you want.\"\n\nMalaga looked at the stranger suspiciously.\n\n\"What countryman is monsieur?\"\n\n\"I am a Pole.\"\n\n\"Oh! then I accept,\" she said.\n\nPaz departed, promising to return.\n\n\"Well, that's a stiff one!\" said Marguerite Turquet, looking at Madame\nChapuzot; \"I'm half afraid he is wheedling me, to", "had led her to make, \"can\nallow yourself to be caught like a boy! Your proceedings have made that\nwoman celebrated. My uncle wanted to see her, and he did see her. My\nuncle is not the only one; Malaga receives a great many gentlemen. I did\nthink you such a noble soul. For shame! Will she be such a loss that you\ncan't replace her?\"\n\n\"Madame, if I knew any sacrifice I could make to recover your esteem I\nwould make it; but to give up Malaga is not one--\"\n\n\"In", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off" ], [ "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "\ndislike?\"\n\nAnd his thoughts travelled far on this strange theme.\n\nIt must not be supposed that Thaddeus was living without pleasure, in\nthe midst of his sufferings. The deceptions of this day, for instance,\nwere a source of inward joy to him. Since the return of the count and\ncountess he had daily felt ineffable satisfactions in knowing himself\nnecessary to a household which, without his devotion to its interests,\nwould infallibly have gone to ruin. What fortune can bear the strain of\nreckless prodigality? Clement", "and he had lost it. He grew thin and yellow, and so ill with constant\nlow fever that during the month of January he was obliged to keep his\nbed, though he refused to see a doctor. Comte Adam became very uneasy\nabout him; but the countess had the cruelty to remark: \"Let him alone;\ndon't you see it is only some Olympian trouble?\" This remark, being\nrepeated to Thaddeus, gave him the courage of despair; he left his bed,\nwent out, tried a few amusements, and recovered his health.\n", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "\n\"Enough!\" said the countess, retreating into her bedroom. \"Can it be\nthat I am the victim of some noble mystification?\" she asked herself.\nThe thought had hardly crossed her mind when Constantin brought her the\nfollowing letter written by Thaddeus during the night:--\n\n \"Countess,--To seek death in the Caucasus and carry with me your\n contempt is more than I can bear. A man should die untainted. When\n I saw you for the first time I loved you as we love a woman whom\n we shall", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", "with us, you must give her up. How an old\nsoldier--\"\n\n\"I am only thirty-five, and haven't a white hair.\"\n\n\"You look old,\" she said, \"and that's the same thing. How so careful a\nmanager, so distinguished a--\"\n\nThe horrible part of all this was her evident intention to rouse a sense\nof honor in his soul which she thought extinct.\n\n\"--so distinguished a man as you are, Thaddeus,\" she resumed after a\nmomentary pause which a gesture of his hand", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "\n\"Two years ago Adam would not have gone to the Opera without me,\" said\nClementine, not looking at Paz.\n\n\"He loves you madly,\" replied Thaddeus.\n\n\"Yes, and because he loves me madly he is all the more likely not to\nlove me to-morrow,\" said the countess.\n\n\"How inexplicable Parisian women are!\" exclaimed Thaddeus. \"When they\nare loved to madness they want to be loved reasonably: and when they are\nloved reasonably they reproach a man for not", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "to him, but I also know those we are under to you.\nBoth generosities are natural--but you are generous every day and all\nday. My father dines here to-day, also my uncle Ronquerolles and my aunt\nMadame de Serizy. Dress yourself therefore,\" she said, taking the hand\nhe offered to assist her from the carriage.\n\nThaddeus went to his own room to dress with a joyful heart, though\nshaken by an inward dread. He went down at the last moment and behaved\nthrough dinner as he had done", "the three took their coffee, a silence rather annoying to Adam,\nwho was incapable of imagining the cause of it. Clementine no longer\ntried to draw out Thaddeus. The captain, on the other hand, retreated\nwithin his military stiffness and came out of it no more, neither on the\nway to the Opera nor in the box, where he seemed to be asleep.\n\n\"You see, madame, that I am a very stupid man,\" he said during the dance\nin the last act of \"Guillaume Tell.\" \"Am I not right to keep", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations" ], [ "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing", "us had left them. On pretence of asking Adam's advice, Thaddeus\nhad left Malaga's letter with him, as if by mistake.\n\n\"Poor Thaddeus!\" said Adam, as Paz disappeared, \"what a misfortune for\na man of his distinction to be the plaything of the lowest kind of\ncircus-rider. He will lose everything, and get lower and lower, and\nwon't be recognizable before long. Here, read that,\" added the count,\ngiving Malaga's letter to his wife.\n\n", "then she crushed him with the\nwords, \"Poor Malaga!\" uttered in tones which a great lady alone can\nfind to give expression to her disdain. She rose, leaving Thaddeus half\nunconscious behind her, slowly re-entered her boudoir, and went back to\nAdam's chamber.\n\nAn hour later Paz returned to the sick-room, and began anew, with death\nin his heart, his care of the count. From that moment he said nothing.\nHe was forced to struggle with the patient, whom he managed in a way", "Champs-Elysees where I have driven beside you, and\nwhere you pass. Yes, I shall grieve for Malaga's hardness--the Malaga of\nwhom I am now speaking.\"\n\nThis was said in a manner that made Clementine tremble.\n\n\"Then you do love Malaga very much?\" she asked.\n\n\"I have sacrificed for her the honor that no man should ever sacrifice.\"\n\n\"What honor?\"\n\n\"That which we desire to keep at any cost in the eyes of our idol.\"\n\nAfter that reply Thad", ") informed him that Malaga was named Marguerite Turquet, and\nlived on the fifth story of a house in the rue des Fosses-du-Temple.\n\nThe following day Paz went to the faubourg du Temple, found the house,\nand asked to see Mademoiselle Turquet, who during the summer was\nsubstituting for the leading horsewoman at the Cirque-Olympique, and a\nsupernumerary at a boulevard theatre in winter.\n\n\"Malaga!\" cried the portress, rushing into the attic,", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "\nAbout the end of February Adam lost a large sum of money at the\nJockey-Club, and as he was afraid of his wife, he begged Thaddeus to let\nthe sum appear in the accounts as if he had spent it on Malaga.\n\n\"There's nothing surprising in your spending that sum on the girl;\nbut if the countess finds out that I have lost it at cards I shall be\nlowered in her opinion, and she will always be suspicious in future.\"\n\n\"Ha! this, too!\" exclaimed Thaddeus, with a sigh.", "dead,\nin Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of\nterror.\n\n\"My dear child,\" Madame Chapuzot would say, \"that monster--\" (a man who\ncontented himself with only looking, in a sly way,--not daring to come\nout and say things,--and such a beautiful creature too, as Malaga,--of\ncourse such a man was a monster, according to Madame Chapuzot's ideas)\n\"--that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, and make you do\nsomething illegal", "s, for\nit did not really take form or poesy till the grand galop in \"Gustave\"\nwas given to the world. That tremendous finale might serve as the symbol\nof an epoch in which for the last fifty years all things have hurried by\nwith the rapidity of a dream.\n\nNow, it happened that the grave Thaddeus, with one divine and immaculate\nimage in his heart, proposed to Malaga, the queen of the carnival\ndances, to spend an evening at the Musard ball; because he knew the\ncountess, disguised", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "ine's character; she will\n never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to\n Malaga.\n\n \"I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen;\n and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince\n Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken\n sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even.\n\n\"Thaddeus.\"\n\n\n\"Idiot that I was,\" thought Adam;", "had led her to make, \"can\nallow yourself to be caught like a boy! Your proceedings have made that\nwoman celebrated. My uncle wanted to see her, and he did see her. My\nuncle is not the only one; Malaga receives a great many gentlemen. I did\nthink you such a noble soul. For shame! Will she be such a loss that you\ncan't replace her?\"\n\n\"Madame, if I knew any sacrifice I could make to recover your esteem I\nwould make it; but to give up Malaga is not one--\"\n\n\"In", "stolen money!\"\n\nThe captain gave the gold to Chapuzot, went away without a word, and did\nnot return.\n\nClementine was at this time at her uncle's place in Burgundy.\n\nWhen the Circus troop discovered that Malaga had lost her Polish count,\nmuch excitement was produced among them. Malaga's display of honor was\nconsidered folly by some, and shrewdness by others. The conduct of the\nPole, however, even when discussed by the cleverest of women, seemed\ninexplicable. Thad", "her. In fact, before long Malaga was\nvery much talked about in the questionable world of equivocal women, who\npresently attacked her good fortune by calumnies. They said she was\na somnambulist, and the Pole was a magnetizer who was using her to\ndiscover the philosopher's stone. Some even more envenomed scandals\ndrove her to a curiosity that was greater than Psyche's. She reported\nthem in tears to Paz.\n\n\"When I want to injure a woman,\" she said in conclusion, \"", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off" ], [ "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "that distinguished Thaddeus, and the puny frame in which Adam showed\nthe degenerating effects of intermarriage among the Polish aristocratic\nfamilies. The devil alone knew the thoughts that were in Clementine's\nhead, for she sat still, with thoughtful, dreamy eyes, and without\nsaying a word until they reached home.\n\n\"You will dine with us; I shall be angry if you disobey me,\" she said as\nthe carriage turned in. \"You are Thaddeus to me, as you are to Adam. I\nknow your obligations", ", don't believe his modesty.\"\n\n\"Adieu, comtesse; I have obeyed your wishes so far; and now I will take\nthe carriage and go home to bed and send it back for you.\"\n\nClementine bowed her head and let him go without replying.\n\n\"What a bear!\" she said to the count. \"You are a great deal nicer.\"\n\nAdam pressed her hand when no one was looking.\n\n\"Poor, dear Thaddeus,\" he said, \"he is trying to make himself\ndisagreeable where", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "Then you ought, in case you lose him,\" said Thaddeus, in a voice which\nClementine had never heard him use, \"to grieve for him less than if you\nlost a man who was your pride, your love, and all your life,--as some\nmen are to you women. Surely you can be frank at this moment with a\nfriend like me. I shall grieve, too; long before your marriage I had\nmade him my child, I had sacrificed my life to him. If he dies I shall\nbe without an interest on earth; but life is", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "smiling.\n\n\"Ah! but we are Florentines transplanted to the North,\" answered\nThaddeus with a refinement of accent and a look in his eyes which\nmade his conduct at table seem assumed for the occasion. There was\ntoo evident a contrast between his involuntary self-revelation in this\nspeech and his behavior during dinner. Clementine examined the captain\nwith a few of those covert glances which show a woman's surprise and\nalso her capacity for observation.\n\nIt resulted from this little incident that silence reigned in the salon\nwhile", "the three took their coffee, a silence rather annoying to Adam,\nwho was incapable of imagining the cause of it. Clementine no longer\ntried to draw out Thaddeus. The captain, on the other hand, retreated\nwithin his military stiffness and came out of it no more, neither on the\nway to the Opera nor in the box, where he seemed to be asleep.\n\n\"You see, madame, that I am a very stupid man,\" he said during the dance\nin the last act of \"Guillaume Tell.\" \"Am I not right to keep", "chants all lovers.\n\nThe countess placed the captain beside her; his behavior was that of\na poor sub-lieutenant dining at his general's table. He let Clementine\ntalk, listened deferentially as to a superior, did not differ with her\nin anything, and waited to be questioned before he spoke at all. He\nseemed actually stupid to the countess, whose coquettish little ways\nmissed their mark in presence of such frigid gravity and conventional\nrespect. In vain Adam kept saying: \"Do be lively, Thaddeus; one would", "intervals; now they are always on the scene.\nClementine found she had to struggle for her supremacy. She was cited,\nand that alone brought jealousies; and the care and watchfulness exacted\nby this contest with her rivals left little time even to love her\nhusband. Paz might well be forgotten. Nevertheless, in the month of\nMay, as she drove home from the Bois, just before she left Paris for\nRonquerolles, her uncle's estate in Burgundy, she noticed Thaddeus,\nelegantly dressed, sauntering", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "\nreally suppose you were not at home. You must have made a wager to\ndisconcert Clementine.\" Thaddeus continued heavy and half asleep.\nWhen the servants left the room at the end of the dessert the captain\nexplained that his habits were diametrically opposite to those of\nsociety,--he went to bed at eight o'clock and got up very early in the\nmorning; and he excused his dulness on the ground of being sleepy.\n\n\"My intention in taking you to the Opera was to amuse you, captain; but\n" ], [ "ider, he bethought him\nthat he must give it some reality. The only truth in his tale was the\nmomentary attention he had given to Malaga at Saint-Cloud; and he had\nsince seen her name on the posters of the Circus, where the clown, for\na tip of five francs, had told him that the girl was a foundling, stolen\nperhaps. Thaddeus now went to the Circus and saw her again. For ten\nfrancs one of the grooms (who take the place in circuses of the dressers\nat a theatre", "dead,\nin Poland or in France. After that Malaga could not control a feeling of\nterror.\n\n\"My dear child,\" Madame Chapuzot would say, \"that monster--\" (a man who\ncontented himself with only looking, in a sly way,--not daring to come\nout and say things,--and such a beautiful creature too, as Malaga,--of\ncourse such a man was a monster, according to Madame Chapuzot's ideas)\n\"--that monster is trying to get a hold upon you, and make you do\nsomething illegal", "most men would try to seem more amiable than I.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" she said, \"I am not sure but what there is some _calculation_ in\nhis behavior; he would have taken in an ordinary woman.\"\n\nHalf an hour later, when the chasseur, Boleslas, called out \"Gate!\" and\nthe carriage was waiting for it to swing back, Clementine said to her\nhusband, \"Where does the captain perch?\"\n\n\"Why, there!\" replied Adam, pointing to a floor above the porte-cochere\nwhich had one window", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "and I knew I was\ncertain to ruin myself at play, or get inveigled by some woman, and Paz\nand I might then be parted; and though I had every intention of always\nlooking out for him, I knew I might sometime or other forget to provide\nfor him. In short, my dear angel, I wanted to spare him the pain and\nmortification of having to ask me for money, or of having to hunt me up\nif he got into distress. SO, one morning, after breakfast, when we were\nsitting with our feet on the andirons smoking", "Brussels\nand died there after going into bankruptcy. The Englishman died in\nParis, of Paris; for to many persons Paris is a disease,--sometimes\nseveral diseases. His widow, a Methodist, had a horror of the little\nnabob establishment, and ordered it to be sold. Comte Adam bought it at\na bargain; and how he came to do so shall presently be made known, for\nbargains were not at all in his line as a grand seigneur.\n\nBehind the house lay the verdant velvet of an English", "carry out some fancy\nof his own--Pooh! I'll risk it.\"\n\nA month after this eccentric interview the circus-rider was living in\na comfortable apartment furnished by Comte Adam's own upholsterer, Paz\nhaving judged it desirable to have his folly talked about at the hotel\nLaginski. Malaga, to whom this adventure was like a leaf out of the\nArabian Nights, was served by Monsieur and Madame Chapuzot in the double\ncapacity of friends and servants. The Chapuzots and Marguer", "promoted the long journey to Italy and elsewhere after the\nmarriage. At peace so long as Clementine was away, his trial was renewed\non the return of the happy household. As he sat at his window on this\nmemorable night, smoking his latakia in a pipe of wild-cherry wood\nsix feet long, given to him by Adam, these are the thoughts that were\npassing through his mind:--\n\n\"I, and God, who will reward me for suffering in silence, alone know\nhow I love her! But how shall I manage to have neither her love nor her", "And you?\" said Thaddeus.\n\n\"I know Adam so well that I am certain he could forget me for some\nmountebank like your Malaga. Where did you first see her?\"\n\n\"At Saint-Cloud, last September, on the fete-day. She was at a corner of\na booth covered with flags, where the shows are given. Her comrades,\nall in Polish costumes, were making a horrible racket. I watched her\nstanding there, silent and dumb, and I thought I saw a melancholy\nexpression in her face; in truth", ") informed him that Malaga was named Marguerite Turquet, and\nlived on the fifth story of a house in the rue des Fosses-du-Temple.\n\nThe following day Paz went to the faubourg du Temple, found the house,\nand asked to see Mademoiselle Turquet, who during the summer was\nsubstituting for the leading horsewoman at the Cirque-Olympique, and a\nsupernumerary at a boulevard theatre in winter.\n\n\"Malaga!\" cried the portress, rushing into the attic,", "poor. Stay here with me,\nM'ame Chapuzot; I don't want him to think I'm deserted.\"\n\n\"Who is it you are looking for, monsieur?\" asked Madame Chapuzot,\nopening the door for Thaddeus, who had now come upstairs.\n\n\"Mademoiselle Turquet.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the portress, with an air of importance, \"here is some\none to see you.\"\n\nA line on which the clothes were drying caught the captain's hat and\nknocked it off", ", and de\nMaufrigneuse, the flowers of our present Paris, who live at such\nimmeasurable distance from the parvenus, the vulgarians, and the\nspeculators of the new regime.\n\nThis preamble is necessary to show the sphere in which was done one\nof those noble actions, less rare than the calumniators of our time\nadmit,--actions which, like pearls, the fruit of pain and suffering, are\nhidden within rough shells, lost in the gulf, the sea, the tossing waves\nof what we call", "consequence, a family servant, and we reached Dantzic.\nThere we got on board a Dutch vessel and went to London. It took us two\nmonths to get there. My mother was ill in England, and expecting me.\nPaz and I took care of her till her death, which the Polish troubles\nhastened. Then we left London and came to France. Men who go through\nsuch adversities become like brothers. When I reached Paris, at\ntwenty-two years of age, and found I had an income of over sixty\nthousand francs a year, without counting", "there was enough about her to sadden a\ngirl of twenty. That touched me.\"\n\nThe countess was sitting in a delicious attitude, pensive and rather\nmelancholy.\n\n\"Poor, poor Thaddeus!\" she exclaimed. Then, with the kindliness of a\ntrue great lady she added, not without a malicious smile, \"Well go, go\nto your Circus.\"\n\nThaddeus took her hand, kissed it, leaving a hot tear upon it, and went\nout.\n\nHaving invented this passion for a circus-r", ". She was\nlying at full length on one of those marvellous couches from which it\nis almost impossible to rise, the upholsterer having invented them for\nlovers of the \"far niente\" and its attendant joys of laziness to sink\ninto. The doors of the greenhouse were open, letting the odors of\nvegetation and the perfume of the tropics pervade the room. The young\nwife was looking at her husband who was smoking a narghile, the only\nform of pipe she would have suffered in that room. The port", "\"I came near to cutting my throat just\nnow, talking about Malaga.\"\n\nIt is now three years since Paz went away. The newspapers have as yet\nsaid nothing about any Prince Paz. The Comtesse Laginska is immensely\ninterested in the expeditions of the Emperor Nicholas; she is Russian to\nthe core, and reads with a sort of avidity all the news that comes from\nthat distant land. Once or twice every winter she says to the Russian\nambassador, with an air of indifference, \"Do you know what has become of\nour poor Com", "of an abyss described\nby Dante. The unfortunate man had never dreamed that the possibility\nmight arise of becoming Clementine's husband, and now he had drowned\nhimself in a ditch of mud. His face was convulsed, when he reached\nthe kiosk, with an agony of grief; his head, like Medusa's, conveyed\ndespair.\n\n\"Is he dead?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"They have given him up; that is, they leave him to nature. Do not go\nin; they are still there", "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "her. In fact, before long Malaga was\nvery much talked about in the questionable world of equivocal women, who\npresently attacked her good fortune by calumnies. They said she was\na somnambulist, and the Pole was a magnetizer who was using her to\ndiscover the philosopher's stone. Some even more envenomed scandals\ndrove her to a curiosity that was greater than Psyche's. She reported\nthem in tears to Paz.\n\n\"When I want to injure a woman,\" she said in conclusion, \"", ".\n\n\"What is it you wish, monsieur?\" said Malaga, picking up the hat and\ngiving it to him.\n\n\"I saw you at the Circus,\" said Thaddeus, \"and you reminded me of a\ndaughter whom I have lost, mademoiselle; and out of affection for my\nHeloise, whom you resemble in a most striking manner, I should like to\nbe of some service to you, if you will permit me.\"\n\n\"Why, certainly; pray sit down, general,\" said Madame Chapuzot; \"nothing" ], [ "Thaddeus had led up to naturally, did\nnot end without further cruel trials; his sufferings were fated not to\nbe as sweet and tender as he was trying to make them. The poor lover\nforgot to reckon on the hazard of events. Adam fell seriously ill, and\nThaddeus, instead of leaving the house, stayed to nurse his friend. His\ndevotion was unwearied. A woman who had any interest in employing her\nperspicacity might have seen in this devotion a sort of punishment\nimposed by a noble soul to repress an involunt", "those of his wife. Left to\nhimself he would probably have been ruined before his marriage. Paz had\nprevented him from gambling at the Bourse, and that says all.\n\nUnder these circumstances, Thaddeus, feeling that he loved Clementine\nin spite of himself, had not the resource of leaving the house and\ntravelling in other lands to forget his passion. Gratitude, the key-note\nof his life, held him bound to that household where he alone could look\nafter the affairs of the heedless owners. The long absence of Adam\nand Clement", "\nthat excited the admiration of the doctors. At all hours his watchful\neyes were like lamps always lighted. He showed no resentment to\nClementine, and listened to her thanks without accepting them; he seemed\nboth dumb and deaf. To himself he was saying, \"She shall owe his life to\nme,\" and he wrote the thought as it were in letters of fire on the walls\nof Adam's room. On the fifteenth day Clementine was forced to give up\nthe nursing, lest she should utterly break down. Paz was unwearied. At\n", "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "\nand the old diplomatist, but Paz, the faithful watchdog, understood\nits meaning. It was, we must remark, an affair of two seconds; but to\ndescribe the tempest it roused in the captain's soul would take far too\nmuch space in this brief history.\n\n\"What!\" he said to himself, \"do the aunt and uncle think I might be\nloved? Then my happiness only depends on my own audacity! But Adam--\"\n\nIdeal love and desire clashed with gratitude and friendship, all equally\npowerful, and,", "without perceiving the\nslightest danger in so doing.\n\n\"My dear Paz,\" she said, with the condescending familiarity of the great\nto their inferiors, \"if you love Adam as you say you do, you will do\na thing which he will not ask of you, but which I, his wife, do not\nhesitate to exact.\"\n\n\"About Malaga?\" said Thaddeus, with bitterness in his heart.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" she said; \"if you wish to end your days in this house\nand continue good friends", "more than ten thousand francs on her, and\nletting her send him that letter before he would ask me for enough to\npay her debts. For a Pole, I call that firm.\"\n\n\"He will ruin you,\" said Clementine, in the sharp tone of a Parisian\nwoman, when she shows her feline distrusts.\n\n\"Oh, I know him,\" said Adam; \"he will sacrifice Malaga, if I ask him.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" remarked the countess.\n\n\"If it is best for his own happiness, I sha'n", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "Adam, full of curiosity, used the privilege of a sick man\nwhose caprices are to be gratified, and said to Thaddeus: \"There's no\nindiscretion between brothers who love each other,--tell me what there\nis in that despatch; I'm in a fever of curiosity.\"\n\nClementine glanced at Thaddeus with a vexed air, and remarked to her\nhusband: \"He has been so sulky with me for the last two months that I\nshall never ask him anything again.\"\n\n\"Oh, as for", "the countess, with much vivacity of manner but no feeling.\n\nIn fact, she thought she perceived in Paz a sort of voluntary servitude.\nSuch an idea carried with it in her mind a certain contempt for a social\namphibian, a being half-secretary, half-bailiff, and yet neither the one\nnor the other, a poor relation, an embarrassing friend.\n\n\"Because, countess,\" he answered with perfect ease of manner, \"there are\nno thanks due. I am Adam's friend, and it gives me pleasure to take care", "ine, brought up by a spendthrift father,\nknew nothing of the management of a household which the women of the\npresent day, however rich or noble they are, are often compelled to\nundertake themselves. How few, in these days, keep a steward. Adam, on\nthe other hand, son of one of the great Polish lords who let themselves\nbe preyed on by the Jews, and are wholly incapable of managing even the\nwreck of their vast fortunes (for fortunes are vast in Poland), was\nnot of a nature to check his own fancies or", "me?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, but he is Adam,\" returned the captain.\n\n\"And why can't Thaddeus have the same privileges?\" asked the countess,\nsmiling.\n\nThat divine smile had a power which triumphed over the heroic\nresolutions of poor Paz; he looked at Clementine with all the fire of\nhis soul in his eyes, though, even so, its flame was tempered by the\nangelic gratitude of the man whose life was based upon that virtue.\nThe countess folded her arms in her shawl,", "\n\n\"Oh! his name is Thaddeus, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes; Thaddeus folded the paper and gave it back to me, and then he\nsaid: 'I thought, Adam, that we were one for life or death, and that we\nshould never part. Do you want to be rid of me?' 'Oh!' I said, 'if you\ntake it that way, Thaddeus, don't let us say another word about it. If\nI ruin myself you shall be ruined too.' 'You haven't fortune enough to\nlive as a", ", as the\nsaying is, to my own specialty?\"\n\n\"In truth, my dear captain, you are neither a talker nor a man of the\nworld, but you are perhaps Polish.\"\n\n\"Therefore leave me to look after your pleasures, your property, your\nhousehold--it is all I am good for.\"\n\n\"Tartufe! pooh!\" cried Adam, laughing. \"My dear, he is full of ardor;\nhe is thoroughly educated; he can, if he chooses, hold his own in any\nsalon. Clementine", "ine's character; she will\n never forgive you either your losses at cards or your visits to\n Malaga.\n\n \"I am not going to Khiva, but to the Caucasus. I have the spleen;\n and at the pace at which I mean to go I shall be either Prince\n Paz in three years, or dead. Good-by; though I have taken\n sixty-thousand francs from Nucingen, our accounts are even.\n\n\"Thaddeus.\"\n\n\n\"Idiot that I was,\" thought Adam;", "I see him there nearly\nevery day.\"\n\n\"I wonder what he is thinking about now,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"He is thinking that this winter has cost a good deal, and that it is\ntime we went to economize with your old uncle Ronquerolles,\" replied\nAdam.\n\nThe countess stopped the carriage near Paz, and bade him take the seat\nbeside her. Thaddeus grew as red as a cherry.\n\n\"I shall poison you,\" he said; \"I have been smoking.\"\n\n\"Doesn't Adam poison", "opinion of the world as to a friend of my husband is not\nindifferent to me--\"\n\n\"Ah, madame, the world will be satisfied if you tell them I am 'an\noriginal.'\"\n\nAfter a moment's silence he added, \"Are you going out to-day?\"\n\n\"Will you come with us to the Bois?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\nSo saying, Paz bowed and withdrew.\n\n\"What a good soul he is!\" said Adam. \"He has all the simplicity of a\nchild.\"\n\n\"Now tell me all", "thought only of Adam, think what they\n were to my soul when the woman I loved was the mainspring of all I\n did. I have known the pleasures of maternity in my love. I\n accepted life thus. Like the paupers who live along the great\n highways, I built myself a hut on the borders of your beautiful\n domain, though I never sought to approach you. Poor and lonely,\n struck blind by Adam's good fortune, I was, nevertheless, the\n giver. Yes, you were surrounded by a love as pure as a", "pipes, I produced,--with\nthe utmost precaution, for I saw him look at me uneasily,--a certificate\nof the Funds payable to bearer for a certain sum of money a year.\"\n\nClementine jumped up and went and seated herself on Adam's knee, put\nher arms round his neck, and kissed him. \"Dear treasure!\" she said, \"how\nhandsome he is! Well, what did Paz do?\"\n\n\"Thaddeus turned pale,\" said the count, \"but he didn't say a word.\"", "you madly. I\n should have gone had Adam died; all the more must I go because he\n lives. A man does not tear his friend from the arms of death to\n betray him. Besides, my going is my punishment for the thought\n that came to me that I would let him die, when the doctors said\n that his life depended on his nursing.\n\n \"Adieu, madame; in leaving Paris I lose all, but you lose nothing\n now in my being no longer near you.\n\n \"Your devoted\n\n \"Thaddeus" ], [ "irled his thumbs\nmechanically, looking stupidly at them.\n\n\"Why don't you tell me something good of Adam?\" cried Clementine\nsuddenly. \"Tell me that he is not volatile, you who know him so well.\"\n\nThe cry was fine.\n\n\"Now is the time,\" thought poor Paz, \"to put an insurmountable barrier\nbetween us. Tell you good of Adam?\" he said aloud. \"I love him; you\nwould not believe me; and I am incapable of telling you harm. My\nposition is very", "do not know, countess, what charm, what unexpected\npiquancy of mind she has.\" Then, feeling his courage fail him, he added\nhastily, \"There is not a woman in society, with her mincing airs, that\nis worth the honest nature of that young animal.\"\n\n\"At any rate, I wish nothing of the animal about me,\" said the countess,\nwith a glance like that of an angry viper.\n\nAfter that evening Comte Paz showed Clementine the exact state of\nher affairs; he made himself her tutor, taught her the", "of an abyss described\nby Dante. The unfortunate man had never dreamed that the possibility\nmight arise of becoming Clementine's husband, and now he had drowned\nhimself in a ditch of mud. His face was convulsed, when he reached\nthe kiosk, with an agony of grief; his head, like Medusa's, conveyed\ndespair.\n\n\"Is he dead?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"They have given him up; that is, they leave him to nature. Do not go\nin; they are still there", ", in his dressing-gown with a pipe in his mouth, was watching\nClementine as she entered the vestibule. The day had been a hard one for\nhim. And here is the reason why: A great and terrible emotion had taken\npossession of his heart on the day when Adam made him go to the Opera\nto see and give his opinion on Mademoiselle du Rouvre; and again when he\nsaw her on the occasion of her marriage, and recognized in her the woman\nwhom a man is forced to love exclusively. For this reason Paz strongly\nadvised and", ",\" remarked Clementine laughing.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Adam, \"whereas friendship only increases. You need not\npucker up your lips at that, for we are, you and I, as much friends as\nlovers; we have, at least I hope so, combined the two sentiments in our\nhappy marriage.\"\n\n\"I'll explain to you what it is that has made you and Thaddeus such good\nfriends,\" said Clementine. \"The difference in the lives you lead\ncomes from your tastes and from necessity; from your likings, not your\n", "asked Clementine, turning to her husband, who nodded by\nway of affirmation.\n\nMadame Laginska was silent, examining Adam. With her feet extended upon\na cushion and her head poised like that of a bird on the edge of\nits nest listening to the noises in a grove, she would have seemed\nenchanting even to a blase man. Fair and slender, and wearing her\nhair in curls, she was not unlike those semi-romantic pictures in\nthe Keepsakes, especially when dressed, as she was this morning, in a", "is a lady's boudoir in 1837,--an exhibition of the contents of many\nshops, which amuse the eye, as if ennui were the one thing to be dreaded\nby the social world of the liveliest and most stirring capital in\nEurope. Why is there nothing of an inner life? nothing which leads to\nrevery, nothing reposeful? Why indeed? Because no one in our day is sure\nof the future; we are living our lives like prodigal annuitants.\n\nOne morning Clementine appeared to be thinking of something", "him. But suppose that in spite of you\nand me, the count dies,--well, then, if you were loved, oh, adored, by a\nman of a heart and soul that are worthy of you--\"\n\n\"I may have wished for such love, foolishly, but I have never met with\nit.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you are mistaken--\"\n\nClementine looked fixedly at Thaddeus, imagining that there was less of\nlove than of cupidity in his thoughts; her eyes measured him from head\nto foot and poured contempt upon him;", "t\nknow what has made him abandon me as if a pestilence were in my house.\nWe are not friends to quarrel about a woman,\" he said, looking intently\nat Clementine. \"You heard what he said yesterday about Malaga. Well, he\nhas never so much as touched the little finger of that girl.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\" said Clementine.\n\n\"I had the natural curiosity to go and see Mademoiselle Turquet, and\nthe poor girl can't explain even to herself the absolute reserve which\nThad--\"\n", "Clementine read the letter, which smelt of tobacco, and threw it from\nher with a look of disgust.\n\n\"Thick as the bandage is over his eyes,\" continued Adam, \"he must have\nfound out something; Malaga tricked him, no doubt.\"\n\n\"But he goes back to her,\" said Clementine, \"and he will forgive her! It\nis for such horrible women as that that you men have indulgence.\"\n\n\"Well, they need it,\" said Adam.\n\n\"Thaddeus used to show some decency--in living apart from", "ine had given him peace. But the countess had returned\nmore lovely than ever, enjoying the freedom which marriage brings to a\nParisian woman, displaying the graces of a young wife and the nameless\nattraction she gains from the happiness, or the independence, bestowed\nupon her by a young man as trustful, as chivalric, and as much in\nlove as Adam. To know that he was the pivot on which the splendor the\nhousehold depended, to see Clementine when she got out of her carriage\non returning from some fete, or got", "Clementine reproved Paz and let him know\nvery plainly that she did not wish him to live in her house any longer.\n\n\"Yes, madame,\" said Paz, humbly, \"you are right; I am a wretch; I did\ngive you my word. But you see how it is; I put off leaving Malaga till\nafter the carnival. Besides, that woman exerts an influence over me\nwhich--\"\n\n\"An influence!--a woman who ought to be turned out of Musard's by the\npolice for such", "taught himself a good deal; he had compared and meditated. But\nthe gift of original thought which makes a great man he did not possess,\nand it can never be acquired. Paz, great in heart only, approached in\nheart to the sublime; but in the sphere of sentiments, being more a man\nof action than of thought, he kept his thoughts to himself; and they\nonly served therefore to eat his heart out. What, after all, is a\nthought unexpressed?\n\nAfter Clementine's little speech, the Marquis de Ronquerolles and", "loving them at all.\"\n\n\"And they are quite right. Thaddeus,\" she went on, smiling, \"I know\nAdam well; I am not angry with him; he is volatile and above all grand\nseigneur. He will always be content to have me as his wife and he will\nnever oppose any of my tastes, but--\"\n\n\"Where is the marriage in which there are no 'buts'?\" said Thaddeus,\ngently, trying to give another direction to Clementine's mind.\n\nThe least presuming of men might well", "dress of a savage, her head garnished with plumes\nlike the horse of a hearse, and bounding through the crowd like a\nwill-o-the-wisp.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Clementine to her husband, \"you Poles have no honor at all!\nI did believe in Thaddeus. He gave me his word that he would leave that\nwoman; he did not know that I should be here, seeing all unseen.\"\n\nA few days later she requested Paz to dine with them. After dinner Adam\nleft them alone together, and", "the first time I have the pleasure of seeing Comte\nPaz?\" asked the marquis.\n\n\"Because he is so shy and retiring,\" replied Clementine with a look at\nPaz telling him to change his behavior.\n\nAlas! that we should have to avow it, at the risk of rendering the\ncaptain less interesting, but Paz, though superior to his friend\nAdam, was not a man of parts. His apparent superiority was due to his\nmisfortunes. In his lonely and poverty-stricken life in Warsaw he had\nread and", "difficult between you.\"\n\nClementine lowered her head and looked down at the tips of his varnished\nboots.\n\n\"You Northern men have nothing but physical courage,\" she said\ncomplainingly; \"you have no constancy in your opinions.\"\n\n\"How will you amuse yourself alone, madame?\" said Paz, assuming a\ncareless air.\n\n\"Are not you going to keep me company?\"\n\n\"Excuse me for leaving you.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Where are you going?\"\n\nThe thought of a heroic falsehood", "\n\n\"He is very useful to us, Clementine. He has certainly saved over forty\nthousand francs this last year. And besides, my dear angel, he has\nmanaged to put a hundred thousand with Nucingen, which a steward would\nhave pocketed.\"\n\nClementine softened down; but she was none the less hard in her feelings\nto Thaddeus. A few days later, she requested him to come to that boudoir\nwhere, one year earlier, she had been surprised into comparing him with\nher husband. This time she received him alone,", "endurance of sorrow. He wore one of those tight, frogged overcoats which\nwere then called \"polonaise.\" Thick, black hair, rather unkempt, covered\nhis square head, and Clementine noticed his broad forehead shining like\na block of white marble, for Paz held his visored cap in his hand.\nThe hand itself was like that of the Infant Hercules. Robust health\nflourished on his face, which was divided by a large Roman nose and\nreminded Clementine of some handsome Transteverino. A black silk crav", "most men would try to seem more amiable than I.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" she said, \"I am not sure but what there is some _calculation_ in\nhis behavior; he would have taken in an ordinary woman.\"\n\nHalf an hour later, when the chasseur, Boleslas, called out \"Gate!\" and\nthe carriage was waiting for it to swing back, Clementine said to her\nhusband, \"Where does the captain perch?\"\n\n\"Why, there!\" replied Adam, pointing to a floor above the porte-cochere\nwhich had one window" ], [ "from the day of her\nmarriage.\n\nIt is quite unnecessary to say that the Polish count, though an exile,\nwas no expense to the French government. Comte Adam Laginski belonged\nto one of the oldest and most illustrious families in Poland, which was\nallied to many of the princely houses of Germany,--Sapieha, Radziwill,\nMniszech, Rzewuski, Czartoryski, Leczinski, Lubormirski, and all the\nother great Sarmatian SKIS. But heraldic knowledge", "about your relations with him,\" said Clementine.\n\n\"Paz, my dear,\" said Laginski, \"belongs to a noble family as old and\nillustrious as our own. One of the Pazzi of Florence, at the time of\ntheir disasters, fled to Poland, where he settled with some of his\nproperty and founded the Paz family, to which the title of count was\ngranted. This family, which distinguished itself greatly in the glorious\ndays of our royal republic, became rich. The graft from the tree that\nwas felled in Italy flour", "ed courteously as\nhe asked Clementine what he could do for her.\n\n\"You are Laginski's friend!\" exclaimed the countess.\n\n\"For life and death,\" answered Paz, to whom the count threw a smile of\naffection as he drew a last puff from his perfumed pipe.\n\n\"Then why don't you take your meals with us? why did you not accompany\nus to Italy and Switzerland? why do you hide yourself in such a way that\nI am unable to thank you for the constant services that you do for us?\"\nsaid", "the French against the\nvenerable Prince Adam Czartoryski, and the dislike shown to the better\nclass of Polish exiles by the shopkeeping Caesars and the licensed\nAlexanders of Paris.\n\nIn 1834, therefore, Adam Mitgislas Laginski was something of a butt for\nParisian pleasantry.\n\n\"He is rather nice, though he is a Pole,\" said Rastignac.\n\n\"All these Poles pretend to be great lords,\" said Maxime de Trailles,\n\"but this one does pay his", "thinking\nthat twenty poor Poles could have lived a year on that sum.' You must\nunderstand that the Pazzi are fully the equal of the Laginski, so I\ncouldn't regard my dear Paz as an inferior. I never went out or came in\nwithout going first to Paz, as I would to my father. My fortune is his;\nand Thaddeus knows that if danger threatened him I would fling myself\ninto it and drag him out, as I have done before.\"\n\n\"And that is saying a good deal, my dear friend,\" said the countess", "in his ears.\n\n\"A year ago,\" he said to himself, \"she thought me a hero who could fight\nthe Russians single-handed!\"\n\nHe thought of leaving the hotel Laginski, and taking service with the\nspahis and getting killed in Africa, but the same great fear checked\nhim. \"Without me,\" he thought, \"what would become of them? they would\nsoon be ruined. Poor countess! what a horrible life it would be for her\nif she were reduced to even thirty thousand francs a year. No, since all\nis lost for me in this world", "on the first occasion, that is, like a\nsoldier fit only for his duties as a steward. But this time Clementine\nwas not his dupe; his glance had enlightened her. The Marquis de\nRonquerolles, one of the ablest diplomates after Talleyrand, who had\nserved with de Marsay during his short ministry, had been informed by\nhis niece of the real worth and character of Comte Paz, and knew how\nmodestly he made himself the steward of his friend Laginski.\n\n\"And why is this", "\"I came near to cutting my throat just\nnow, talking about Malaga.\"\n\nIt is now three years since Paz went away. The newspapers have as yet\nsaid nothing about any Prince Paz. The Comtesse Laginska is immensely\ninterested in the expeditions of the Emperor Nicholas; she is Russian to\nthe core, and reads with a sort of avidity all the news that comes from\nthat distant land. Once or twice every winter she says to the Russian\nambassador, with an air of indifference, \"Do you know what has become of\nour poor Com", "\nIn September, 1835, one of the richest heiresses of the faubourg\nSaint-Germain, Mademoiselle du Rouvre, the only daughter of the Marquis\ndu Rouvre, married Comte Adam Mitgislas Laginski, a young Polish exile.\n\nWe ask permission to write these Polish names as they are pronounced,\nto spare our readers the aspect of the fortifications of consonants\nby which the Slave language protects its vowels,--probably not to lose\nthem, considering how few there", "Laginski should,' he said, 'and you need a friend who will\ntake care of your affairs, and be a father and a brother and a trusty\nconfidant.' My dear child, as Paz said that he had in his look and\nvoice, calm as they were, a maternal emotion, and also the gratitude\nof an Arab, the fidelity of a dog, the friendship of a savage,--not\ndisplayed, but ever ready. Faith! I seized him, as we Poles do, with\na hand on each shoulder, and I kissed him on the lips.", "of a certain friend of her own, a woman already jealous\nof her.\n\nQuite incapable, in spite of her intelligence, of suspecting such\ntreachery, the Comtesse Laginska committed the imprudence of going with\nher so-called friend to a masked ball at the Opera. About three in the\nmorning, led away by the excitement of the scene, Clementine, on whom La\nPalferine had expended his seductions, consented to accept a supper,\nand was about to enter the carriage of her faithless friend. At this", "II\n\n\nPaz was leading so subterranean a life that the fashionable world of\nParis asked who he was when the Comtesse Laginska was seen in the Bois\nde Boulogne riding between her husband and a stranger. During the ride\nClementine insisted that Thaddeus should dine with them. This caprice of\nthe sovereign lady compelled Paz to make an evening toilet. Clementine\ndressed for the occasion with a certain coquetry, in a style that\nimpressed even Adam himself when she entered the salon where the two", "the first time I have the pleasure of seeing Comte\nPaz?\" asked the marquis.\n\n\"Because he is so shy and retiring,\" replied Clementine with a look at\nPaz telling him to change his behavior.\n\nAlas! that we should have to avow it, at the risk of rendering the\ncaptain less interesting, but Paz, though superior to his friend\nAdam, was not a man of parts. His apparent superiority was due to his\nmisfortunes. In his lonely and poverty-stricken life in Warsaw he had\nread and", "the Marquis de Ronquerolles, and the Chevalier du\nRouvre in yielding to the foolish passion of their niece. People jumped,\nas usual, from one extreme of judgment to the other.\n\nDuring the winter of 1836 Comte Adam was the fashion, and Clementine\nLaginska one of the queens of Paris. Madame Laginska is now a member\nof that charming circle of young women represented by Mesdames de\nLestorade, de Portenduere, Marie de Vandenesse, du Guenic", "the year 900 the family of the Laginski was\namong the most illustrious of the North. By an act of prudence which was\nvery unPolish, the mother of the young count had mortgaged her entire\nproperty on the breaking out of the insurrection for an immense sum\nlent by two Jewish bankers in Paris. Comte Adam was now in possession of\neighty thousand francs a year. When this was discovered society ceased\nto be surprised at the imprudence which had been laid to the charge\nof Madame de Serizy,", "carry out some fancy\nof his own--Pooh! I'll risk it.\"\n\nA month after this eccentric interview the circus-rider was living in\na comfortable apartment furnished by Comte Adam's own upholsterer, Paz\nhaving judged it desirable to have his folly talked about at the hotel\nLaginski. Malaga, to whom this adventure was like a leaf out of the\nArabian Nights, was served by Monsieur and Madame Chapuzot in the double\ncapacity of friends and servants. The Chapuzots and Marguer", "herself mistress of the situation,\nfor she scarcely paid attention to her husband's admiration. In fact,\nin the look which she occasionally cast at him, there seemed to be the\nconsciousness of a Frenchwoman's ascendancy over the puny, volatile, and\nred-haired Pole.\n\n\"Here comes Paz,\" said the count, hearing a step which echoed through\nthe gallery.\n\nThe countess beheld a tall and handsome man, well-made, and bearing\non his face the signs of pain which come of inward strength and secret\n", "ished so vigorously in Poland that there are\nseveral branches of the family still there. I need not tell you that\nsome are rich and some are poor. Our Paz is the scion of a poor branch.\nHe was an orphan, without other fortune than his sword, when he served\nin the regiment of the Grand Duke Constantine at the time of our\nrevolution. Joining the Polish cause, he fought like a Pole, like a\npatriot, like a man who has nothing,--three good reasons for fighting\nwell. In his last affair, thinking he", "in Vienna or\nSt. Petersburg than in Paris. Equals do not need to employ delicacy or\nshrewdness in speech; they blurt out things as they are. Consequently\nthe dandies of Paris did not discover the great seigneur in the rather\nheedless young fellow who, in their talks, would flit from one subject\nto another, all the more intent upon amusement because he had just\nescaped from a great peril, and, finding himself in a city where his\nfamily was unknown, felt at liberty to lead a loose life without the\n", "to make him go to the theatre with me when I was alone, or to\nthe jovial little dinners I used to give at a tavern. He doesn't like\nsocial life.\"\n\n\"What does he like, then?\" asked Clementine.\n\n\"Poland; he loves Poland and pines for it. His only spendings are\nsums he gives, more in my name than in his own, to some of our poor\nbrother-exiles.\"\n\n\"Well, I shall love him, the fine fellow!\" said the countess, \"he looks\n" ] ]

[ "Where did Adam and Thaddee know each other from?", "Who manages Adam's fortune?", "Why does Thaddee invent a mistress for himself?", "Why does Thaddee say that he is joining the army again?", "Who rescues Clementine when she is seduced by a man?", "What did Thaddee do instead of rejoining the army?", "Was it proven that Adam and Malaga had an affair?", "What was the reason Thaddee invented his mistress?", "Who does Thaddee believe is capable of managing Adam's finances?", "Who comes from a rich and noble family?", "Who did Clementine marry?", "What nationality is Court Laginski?", "Who did Adam serve in the army with?", "Who does Clementine find attractive?", "Who did Thaddee claim was his mistress?", "What does Thaddee have to give Malaga to make her play along with his lie?", "Who never left Paris?", "What was Thaddee's reason for making up Malaga?", "Why did Thaddeus claim he needed to leave Paris for?", "What is the relationship between Adam and Thaddee?", "Who is Malaga to Thaddee?", "What does Thaddee claim is the reason for his rejoining the army?", "Why does Thaddee track down Malaga?", "What does Thaddee do that upsets Clementine?", "Where does the story take place?", "Who volunteered to look after Adam's affairs?", "What best describes the character, Clementine?", "Where does Count Laginski come from?" ]

[ [ "They were in the army together.", "The army." ], [ "Thaddee acts as Adam's general manager for his fortune.", "Thaddee" ], [ "Because he falls in love with Clementine.", "He wants to preserve his friendship with Adam, and keep Clementine uninterested." ], [ "To get Malaga out of his mind.", "He says he is joining the army to get Malaga out of his mind" ], [ "Thaddee does.", "Paz" ], [ "He stayed in Paris keeping an eye on his friends.", "Stay in the shadows and take care of Clementine and Adam." ], [ "It is not clear whether there was an affair or not.", "No" ], [ "To discourage Clementine from being interested in him.", "He wanted to keep Clementine from falling in love with him." ], [ "Clementine", "Clementine" ], [ "Clementine", "Clementine" ], [ "Court Laginsi", "Count Laginski" ], [ "Polish", "Polish." ], [ "Thaddee", "Thaddee" ], [ "Thaddee", "Thadee" ], [ "Malaga", "Malaga" ], [ "Money", "money to take care of her keep (needs)," ], [ "Paz", "Paz" ], [ "To preserve his friendship with Adam", "He is in love with Clementine but doesn't want to betray his friends, so he makes up Magala to discourage Clementine from taking an interest in him" ], [ "He was going back to the army", "to join the army and get Malaga out of his mind" ], [ "Close friends who served in the army together.", "Close friends from the army." ], [ "An invented mistress.", "His mistress" ], [ "To forget Malaga.", "to get Malaga out of his mind" ], [ "To pass her off as his mistress.", "To make his story true in case Clementine or Adam investigate further." ], [ "Fooling around with Malaga and borrowing money.", "borrowing money, and keeping a mistress." ], [ "In Paris.", "Paris" ], [ "Thaddee.", "Thaddee" ], [ "A descendant of Nobles with no inheritance.", "She is a descendant of the aristocracy who marries a Count." ], [ "Poland.", "Poland" ] ]

[ [ "\n \n\n 9.\n \n\n 14\n\n 14 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Like a Pulitzer, but for western\n Michigan.\n\n ARNIE\n A Mitchy. Min-hmm. So, tell me, why\n did you want to leave the estimable -\n (he flips to a story, reads\n\n THE HEADING)\n - Kalamazoo Gazette?\n\n JOHN\n ", "ed Toyota Tercel comes over. a rise.\n We follow the car through town, get\n\n SUPER: \"1990\"\n\n 11 INT. CAR - DAY 11\n\n Jenny driving. John clutching his portfolio on his lap. She\n cuts a look at him.\n\n JENNY\n You okay?\n\n JOHN\n Oh yeah.\n\n 12 EXT. FORT LAUDERDALE SUN-SENTINEL NEWSPAPER BUILDING", "Well, as you know, Sebastian and I were\n in college together, and he was always\n talking about South Florida... mostly\n about the women of South Florida, but\n anyway, after my wife and I got married\n we thought it might be nice to come\n\n DOWN HERE--\n\n ARNIE\n For the women?\n\n JOHN\n Uh, no-- for the... the... uh...\n\n ARNIE\n For the work?\n\n JOHN\n Yes. That", "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", " JOHN\n\n U.N.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Right, you told me that. So you're\n down in Philly now, huh?\n\n JOHN\n Just outside. More space for the kids.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 113.\n\n 202\n\n 202 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Whatta you got, five now?\n\n", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", "'re not happy\n here anymore, doing that column.\n You're restless, John. I feel it. I\n feel it when you read Sebastian's\n articles every day. And I feel it when\n you sit out in the driveway an extra\n five minutes before you come in.\n\n (THEN)\n Maybe it's time for a change.\n\n JOHN\n I'm forty, Jen. Seems kinda late for\n that.\n\n JENNY\n Not so late.\n ", "3 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm going to New York.\n Sebastian smiles. John doesn't move.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n The Gray Lady came courting last week.\n\n (THEN)\n Times,\n I'm talking about the New York\n\n BUDDY--\n\n JOHN\n I know who you're talking about.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You don't", "\n\n Loft. Downtown. Full of unpacked boxes. A mattress on the\n floor. Expensive electronics sit atop their cartons. John\n follows Sebastian on a \"tour.\"\n\n JOHN\n Nice place. How long you been here?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Two years, little more.\n Sebastian sees John looking at all of the unpacked boxes.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n I'm in and out of town so much I really\n haven't", " moves about the kitchen getting dinner ready.\n John sits there watching them. watching his family. The\n family that both he and Marley grew up in.\n He gives the fresh dirt a final, loving pat and then, as the\n last bit of sun goes down, he stands up, and heads for home.\n\n FADE OUT\n\n\n\n", " 70\n\n 70 CONTINUED:\n And now the little girl starts bawling in concert with the\n baby, while a trapped John backs up into the corner.\n\n 71\n\n 71 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John gets out of the car. The young Girl next door gives him\n a wave as she starts down the sidewalk with her boyfriend.\n\n JOHN\n Hi.\n\n GIRL\n Hi.\n John watches", " takes a breath and gets to his feet.\n\n JOHN\n Wish me luck.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm sure he'll give you the raise.\n\n JOHN\n How do you know?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n He always gives me one.\n John just shakes his head, starts for Arnie's office.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 78.\n\n 132\n\n 13", " I'm John Grogan.\n\n JENNY\n Wrong. You're John Friggin Grogan\n who's about to get a job.\n She leans over and gives him a big, long kiss.\n\n JOHN\n Um, okay, see now I don't wanna get out\n of the car.\n\n JENNY\n\n JOHN€”\n\n JOHN\n i really just wanna sit here and make\n out with you.\n\n J", " (he flips through some)\n \".. .if he doesn't like it here, he\n\n FROM YOUR\n should move\"... \"more whining\n resident malcontent\"... \"is there\n anything good about Florida according\n to Mr. Grogan?\"\n\n JOHN\n Arnie, I'm a commentator. We've got\n issues here. Over-crowding, crime,\n immigration tensions, runaway\n\n DEVELOPMENT -\n\n ARNIE\n Florida", " 173\n\n 173 INT. SUN-SENTINAL OFFICE - DAY\n\n out of his\n As John packs up his desk. Arnie sticks his head\n office.\n\n ARNIE\n Hey, Gorgan.\n John smiles to himself, walks over.\n\n ARNIE (CONT'D)\n I just wanted to say good luck up\n there.\n\n JOHN\n Thank you, sir.\n\n ARNIE\n Also, there's", " Can't, I'll be in L.A. Part of that\n drug piece I'm doing--\n\n JOHN\n Right. Another time then.\n John watches him move off, a secretary giving Sebastian a big\n smile as he passes. John sits there another moment, looks at\n his desk. A photo of him and Jenny. One of Marley with a flip\n flop in his mouth.\n John chuckles to himself, then deletes the column, starts\n typing a new one.\n\n 64 INT. ARN", "\n And he kisses Jenny. Hugs the kids. Jenny watches him as he i en t e d , distracted.\n shakes hands, hugs their friends, disor\n\n 170\n\n 170 INT. LAUNDRY ROOM - NIGHT\n\n here.\n John , closes\n John petsdthe dog, rta es\n up , g greets John. k\n\n JOHN\n Forty. Jesus Christ...\n He looks at Marley a moment, then...\n\n JO", "EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - NIGHT 140\n\n John pulls into his driveway, turns off the car and just sits\n there.\n\n 141 INT. JOHN'S CAR - SAME 141\n\n As John looks at the house... the windows all lit up. Inside\n Jenny moves about with the baby over her shoulder as Patrick\n chases Marley around the room. John sits in the car, unable\n to move, just watching the chaos in the window.\n Marley jumps up against", "But I do, and I'll see him in the\n morning.\n We TRACK WITH JOHN as he storms out of the exam room, walks\n down the hall, goes through waiting room, then he PASSES US\n as he goes out into the dark parking lot, walks to his car\n and stops.\n We stay BEHIND HIM as he leans with one hand on his car, and\n doesn't move.\n\n 198\n\n 198 INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n ", " There's this new place in the meat\n Packing District. How's that sound? Be\n just like old times.\n John stands there a moment, feeling the distance between\n them.\n\n JOHN\n Uh, well, actually I'm headed back home\n later today.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Oh.\n\n JOHN\n In fact, I should probably get going...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 114.\n" ], [ ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", " And that mutt of yours hasn't shut up\n since you left.\n John looks towards the garage where we hear WHIMPERING.\n\n 34 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - GARAGE - NIGHT 34\n\n The door opens and the puppy gets excited--\n\n JOHN\n No no... I just wanted you to know I'm\n back.\n The puppy whimpers and he goes over to him, reaches into the\n box and pets him...\n\n JO", ", though. Not just for him. I\n tell that to everyone.\n\n (QUICKLY)\n You want help getting him in the car?\n\n JOHN\n No, that's okay, I'll just...\n John opens the door, indicates that Marley should jump in.\n Instead, the puppy runs around the car, barking, jumping up\n on the bumpers. John finally catches him, lifts him up, puts\n him on the front passenger seat atop some towels.\n\n JOH", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "John vacuums, struggles to empty the bag, puts a broken vase\n in the trash, does the dishes, etc. Marley follows him, tail\n wreaking havoc, knocking over everything that isn't nailed\n down. John picks up the HUGE CHEW TOY he'd just bought and\n examines it as Marley runs into the bathroom...\n\n JOHN\n Huh.\n It's already completely gnawed up. John looks at Marley who\n emerges dragging a roll of toilet", "Then he goes around, squats down so he's on Marley's\n level. He looks into Marley's eyes.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Listen, you know all that stuff we\n always said about you? What a total\n pain you are? The world's worst dog?\n Well, don't you believe it. Don't\n believe it for a minute. You loved us,\n every day, no matter what. And that's\n a pretty amazing thing.\n (he leans in", "You really sure about this? I mean, a\n puppy's a lot of work.\n\n JOHN\n How hard could it be?\n We hear A COMMOTION is coming from the woods, something\n crashing through the brush, breathing heavily. They both\n freeze as the sound comes their way.\n\n JENNY\n What's that?\n Just then they are nearly knocked off their feet by a huge,\n rampaging Labrador, soaking wet, covered with mud and burrs.\n It circles them", "\n John comes into the kitchen - without Marley.\n him with concern... he start out of the room.\n\n JOHN\n He'll show up.\n\n 194\n\n 194 INT. UPSTAIRS - BOYS BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n John is tucking the boys in.\n\n JOHN\n He's just out exploring. You know how\n much he likes the woods.\n\n PATRICK\n Bobby says dogs, when they're", "\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's go for a walk.\n\n 205\n\n 205 EXT. HILL - DAY\n\n As John walks Marley off leash up a hill. At one point, John\n has to stop and wait for Marley to catch up.\n\n JOHN\n Come on, boy, just a little further to\n the top...\n Marley comes up, panting, eyes wet and happy. John looks at\n him, can see how tired he is", " it up. This one reads \"E F D TO GOOD HOME.\"\n comes up to John.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You giving up the dog? i thought yo u\n loved that thing.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny wants him out.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n That's harsh, man.\n\n JOHN\n I don't know what else to do. She's\n really unhappy. Maybe the dog is just\n one too many things.\n\n SEBA", "room and John looks at the dog.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 86.\n\n 145\n\n 145 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n You just had to eat the book? What,\n have you got some kind of death wish?\n I'm telling you, you better chill, or\n she'll kill you. Right after she kills\n me.\n\n 146\n\n 146 EXT. GRO", "09 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 109\n\n John opens the front door, drags Marley in. John gives him a\n\n GIANT BONE-SHAPED CHEW TOY...\n\n JOHN\n Okay. Here... Stay. Be good. Please,\n God. No storms. Stay.\n\n 110 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 110\n\n The chew toy now almost completely gone. Marley", "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "30\n\n John, dressed to go out, is setting down Marley in his wooden\n box on the garage floor.\n\n JOHN\n I'll see you in the morning, okay?\n Marley looks at him with a heartbreaking expression. John\n hesitates.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Aw, come on, don't. You'll be fine,\n alright. And tomorrow, we're gonna\n tear it up. I'm thinking kibble, park,\n che", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in.", "\n 19, glasses, bookish, the house sitter -- from his affection.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. Close to a hundred pounds.\n (re: the leash struggle)\n He just wants to say hi. He won't hurt\n you. Just stand still and be calm.\n You're a dog person, right?\n\n DEBBY\n well, actually -\n\n JOHN\n - Ready?\n\n DEBBY\n okay?\n John releases Marley who springs", "... stay.\n (the dog crawls into his lap)\n Okay, not really safe, bud--\n Marley gets stuck with half his body draped over the console.\n He remains like this, his tail thumping... John gives up.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Alright, fine, but just this time.\n\n THUMP. THUMP.\n\n 25\n\n 25 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT\n\n door. The dog\n ", "weeks ago, bounds over to him. A harried Lori\n follows, a rope leash and instruction. sheet in hand.\n\n JOHN\n Whoa! He got big... This is the right\n one, right?\n\n LORI\n You should see him pack away the puppy\n chow.\n\n JOHN\n So, what if I run into any problems?\n\n LORI\n\n (BACKING AWAY)\n Oh. Sure, call me. All sales are\n final", "A sad John posts a \"DOG FOR SALE\" sign. A CO-WORKER\n sign and smiles.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 88.\n\n 153\n\n 153 CONTINUED:\n\n CO-WORKER\n That the dog in your column? Obed ience\n school? Necklace in the poop? Good\n luck.\n\n PUTS\n John watches the guy walk off, scribbles a new\n", "John pulls up in the driveway and opens the\n jumps out.\n\n JOHN\n This is our house...\n The dog immediately pees on the ground.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And now it's yours.\n\n 26\n\n 26 INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n As John crouches down, shows him his bowls...\n\n JOHN\n This one's water. This one's food.\n\n\n\n \n\n " ], [ " Oh my God.\n It's a mess. It's almost incredible that it's all due to a\n single puppy. The box is in shreds; so are the blankets. A\n puddle of urine on the floor. A large piece of dry wall has\n been chewed off near the big garage door. The garbage cans\n are overturned. Marley is whimpering in the corner.\n\n JOHN\n Wow. Okay, this is not how I left it.\n\n JENNY\n", "the terrified toy poodle\n leaps into Jenny's arms. Marley tries to brake -\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n - and suddenly, he is jerked back. John has tackled the\n table Marley's dragging. Marley YELPS and lands on his bac k,\n then quickly rights himself, tail wagging, the happiest dog\n in the world.\n Everyone surrounding them on the plaza has frozen silent.\n They all stare at Marley and the Grogans. The p", "09 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 109\n\n John opens the front door, drags Marley in. John gives him a\n\n GIANT BONE-SHAPED CHEW TOY...\n\n JOHN\n Okay. Here... Stay. Be good. Please,\n God. No storms. Stay.\n\n 110 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 110\n\n The chew toy now almost completely gone. Marley", ", like a dog with a sled, towards\n the now-terrified small dogs. He is chugging forward with\n every ounce of rippling muscle he has.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Marley!\n John hurries after the dog; Jenny stays with the boys.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 94.\n\n 162 CONTINUED: 162\n As Marley-", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "a kiss, rubs his back. And\n that's when we hear a small, birdlike chirp and the dog\n freezes. Where'd that come from?\n We hear the coo again and this time Marley lifts one paw in\n the air like a bird dog, and points in the direction of the\n car seat that we now see sitting on the bed...\n\n JOHN\n You know what I think would be a\n bummer? If he ate the baby...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n", ")\n\n (MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 121.\n\n 217 CONTINUED: 217\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Look, I don't know where you're going\n from here, but you remember this:\n You're a great dog, Marley. You are a\n great dog.\n\n 218 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - BEDRO", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in.", ". Marley goes through his nighttime\n\n ROUTINE:\n He chews through a sock. He drinks out of the toilet. He\n works on chewing through the plastic dog food tub. Another\n night and he'll be in. He chases a fly.\n Finally he goes to his bed on the floor of the bedroom. He\n settles himself down to sleep. He yawns, he scratches, he\n closes his eyes. He snores. And then -\n He wakes up, suddenly alert. He looks over at", "--\n\n JOHN\n I'll tell you what it's based on:\n regular dogs.\n (getting worked up)\n Lady, we are so far from 'regular\", you\n have no idea.\n\n (INDICATES MARLEY)\n My guy here... He once ate an entire\n answering machine, and digested it.\n Then went back and ate the phone for\n dessert. So don't give me numbers like\n \"one percent,\" because you don't know\n him.", " a spirited dog who loves interaction.\n We've never left him before but we're\n sure he'll behave just as he does when\n we're at home.\n They kiss him goodbye. Get in the cab and go. Debby runs to\n Marley, grabs his leash and struggles with all her might to\n hold on to Marley.\n\n 85\n\n 85 INT. AIRPLANE - DAY\n\n Coach. But this is 1991, and the planes fly half-full", "She manages to turn Marley around, and the whole process\n begins again as they make their way back to the line. Her\n face is flushed with embarrassment, anger, and exertion, but\n Marley, jowls frothing, is having a ball. It's like a\n walking tug-of-war.\n With difficulty, Ms. Kornblut manages to return Marley to\n John, but not before, as a coup-de-grace, he starts humping\n her leg enthusiastically. She struggles, he kn", "Then he goes around, squats down so he's on Marley's\n level. He looks into Marley's eyes.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Listen, you know all that stuff we\n always said about you? What a total\n pain you are? The world's worst dog?\n Well, don't you believe it. Don't\n believe it for a minute. You loved us,\n every day, no matter what. And that's\n a pretty amazing thing.\n (he leans in", "in\n frustration as Marley HOWLS at the moon.\n\n 90\n\n 90 EXT. IRISH TOWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny stop at a bed-and-breakfast for the night.\n It's raining softly.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Thunderstorms are his weak point.\n Well, one of his weak points. You can\n give him sedatives if you think a storm\n is arriving. He doesn't like them, so\n push them down into", "edge of the property.\n Marley lies on the ground, in a hollow, hidden from view from\n the hill above. His belly is swollen, his face drawn. It's\n clear he's very ill.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay, boy, it's okay...\n\n 197\n\n 197 INT. VETERINARY TREATMENT ROOM - NIGHT\n\n John stands with DR. PLATT, a female vet. Marley lies on the\n floor in a dog bed,", "with-table approaches the small dogs, they break\n free of their leashes and run. Several innocent bystanders\n are knocked off their feet.\n There's a florist kiosk in the center of the plaza; Marley-\n and-table take out most of the merchandise.\n Security guards look around wildly. It's pandemonium, but\n Marley is in heaven. He makes a circuit of the entire plaz a,\n one poor poodle runs for her life.\n Finally, back where Marley started,", "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "... stay.\n (the dog crawls into his lap)\n Okay, not really safe, bud--\n Marley gets stuck with half his body draped over the console.\n He remains like this, his tail thumping... John gives up.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Alright, fine, but just this time.\n\n THUMP. THUMP.\n\n 25\n\n 25 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT\n\n door. The dog\n ", "\n 19, glasses, bookish, the house sitter -- from his affection.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. Close to a hundred pounds.\n (re: the leash struggle)\n He just wants to say hi. He won't hurt\n you. Just stand still and be calm.\n You're a dog person, right?\n\n DEBBY\n well, actually -\n\n JOHN\n - Ready?\n\n DEBBY\n okay?\n John releases Marley who springs" ], [ ", claps his hand and whistles...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Now Jenny appears in the front door.\n\n JENNY\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n He's not coming.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n John starts off into the dark...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 108.\n\n 190\n\n 190 CONTINUED:\n\n ", "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "'D)\n Okay.\n\n 206\n\n 206 INT. UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n Jenny is at the top of the stairs.\n\n JENNY\n Marley?\n (turns to John)\n Have you seen him?\n\n JOHN\n He's not up here.\n\n 207\n\n 207 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n A\n John and Jenny find Marley lying peacefully in front of", "put it. around Marley's\n neck. Marley, liking its shiny jingling, tries to eat it.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 36.\n\n 57 CONTINUED: 57\n Much tussling, and John finally gets it around Marley's neck -\n but Marley still manages to grab it in his teeth.\n\n JOHN\n He likes it.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n That's", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", "ley trots outside.\n\n 189\n\n 189 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John comes back into the room a moment...\n\n JOHN\n It's pouring out there...\n He grabs his slicker and heads back out...\n\n 190\n\n 190 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John returns, steps outside, but Marley is nowhere to be\n seen. John", ")\n He's waiting for you.\n\n 46 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DRIVEWAY - DAY 46\n\n John and Jenny get out of the car. We hear WHIMPERING in the\n garage.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n She takes off for the side door of the garage.\n\n 47 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - GARAGE - DAY 47\n\n They open the door and freeze.\n\n JENNY\n", "thing.\n\n 113 OMITTED 113- \n\n 114 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 114 \n\n\n \n As the sun now streams in through the front windows down onto \n Marley, who is sound asleep. We hear A CAR DOOR CLOSE and he\n raises his head...\n A moment later, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS and John comes in and\n Marley greets him, jumps up on his chest.\n", " \n\n \n\n \n 23.\n\n 28\n\n 28 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Marley. I like that...\n\n 29 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 29\n\n John's on the phone, talking to Jenny as he follows Marley\n around the room, trying to keep shoes and socks and cords out\n of his mouth...\n\n JOHN\n Are you sure? Because it can be\n", "37\n\n John has his head buried under the pillows AS THE WAILING AND\n KEENING GO ON. AND ON. AND ON. Finally, John can't take it\n anymore. He sits up, pulls earplugs out of his ears.\n\n 38\n\n 38 INT. GARAGE - NIGHT\n\n As the light comes on and Marley's head appears over the top\n of the box. John sighs, comes over and scoops him up...\n\n 39 INT. 345 CH", ", like a dog with a sled, towards\n the now-terrified small dogs. He is chugging forward with\n every ounce of rippling muscle he has.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Marley!\n John hurries after the dog; Jenny stays with the boys.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 94.\n\n 162 CONTINUED: 162\n As Marley-", "\n\n JENNY\n Where'd it go? It was right here.\n\n JOHN\n You just put it down. It can't have\n\n JUST DISAPPEARED--\n And then he stops. Looks off. So does Jenny...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 54.\n \n\n 76\n\n 76 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Oh God...\n Marley stands a", "the terrified toy poodle\n leaps into Jenny's arms. Marley tries to brake -\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n - and suddenly, he is jerked back. John has tackled the\n table Marley's dragging. Marley YELPS and lands on his bac k,\n then quickly rights himself, tail wagging, the happiest dog\n in the world.\n Everyone surrounding them on the plaza has frozen silent.\n They all stare at Marley and the Grogans. The p", "ENTS\n Oh, he knows, and trust me, he\n the hell out of me right now. Go on,\n Marley! Get out!\n But Marley jumps up on the bed, tries to climb on both of\n\n THEM--\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n And now they both start laughing as the dog tries to lick\n their faces...\n\n 67\n\n 67 INT. ARNIE'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Silence. Arnie reads John's column", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "\n\n 94\n\n 94 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Debby has run out of the bathroom, a towel hastily wrapped\n around her. Marley chases her. He leaps - and returns to\n earth with the towel in his mouth. Debby SCREAMS.\n\n 95\n\n 95 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Debby is standing on a coffee table, nude, swatting at an\n unseen Marley with a bunch", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in." ], [ "demonstrates the command:\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Sit!\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 35.\n\n 56\n\n 56 CONTINUED:\n The students order their dogs to sit, and most of them do.\n The ones that don't require only a little effort to get the\n idea. Whereas:\n Jenny orders Marley to sit; instead Marley jumps up on her\n and puts his paws on her shoulders.", "ocks her down,\n and then he buries his face in her crotch and humps her knee.\n John and Jenny rush over. John restrains Marley; Jenny helps\n up Mrs. Kornblut. She's livid.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT (CONT'D)\n That's it! He's out!\n\n JOHN\n He usually just does this with poodles.\n (looking at her bad perm)\n Maybe it's the hair.\n\n MS. KORN", "She manages to turn Marley around, and the whole process\n begins again as they make their way back to the line. Her\n face is flushed with embarrassment, anger, and exertion, but\n Marley, jowls frothing, is having a ball. It's like a\n walking tug-of-war.\n With difficulty, Ms. Kornblut manages to return Marley to\n John, but not before, as a coup-de-grace, he starts humping\n her leg enthusiastically. She struggles, he kn", "...\n\n JOHN\n Marley, heel!\n Marley takes off like a fighter jet, dragging John behind.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Correct him!\n John gives a mighty yank on the leash. Marley coughs,\n hesitates. John loosens the leash - and Marley explodes\n forward again. John yanks, Marley stops, John releases,\n Marley explodes forward.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "all I\n demonstrate a simple walk?\n\n JOHN\n Be my guest.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Class? Even an unruly dog wants to\n obey his leader. Marley? Heel.\n And she steps off confidently - but Marley is a bit more\n confident than she is. He lunges, she pulls, he falls back\n on his hind legs, then barrels up and lurches forward.\n Ms. Kornblut half-stumbles, half rockets across the park.\n ", "because he's eating it... Get it\n out of his mouth. Class? Give your\n dogs the sit command.\n All the dogs sit; John forces Marley's butt down.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT (CONT'D)\n The leash is held in two places. Loop\n around your right hand, left hand at\n waist level. Dog always on your left,\n of course.\n\n JOHN\n That means us, pal.\n He rearranges Marley so he's on John's", "left.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Now, when you give the heel command,\n step off with your left foot - I don't\n want to see any right foot first\n steppers - and walk. If your dog gets\n ahead, administer a correction by\n forcefully bring your left hand down\n and towards the right, and he'll\n respond. Shall we? One, two, three -\n now!\n Just as the dogs and owners prepare to step off, Marley\n lurches ahead of the pack", " I'm very strong-willed.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n And where is your animal?\n\n JOHN\n He's over there. With my wife. He was\n a little excited. He usually needs a\n little time to calm down.\n Ms. Kornblut looks at Jenny as she struggles up with Marley.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n I see. He calls the shots. Which of\n you will be the trainer?\n\n JENNY\n we thought we", " \n\n \n 34.\n\n 55\n\n 55 EXT. PARK - DAY\n\n MS. KORNBLUT, weathered and stern, is studying John. Behind\n John, eight puppies and their owners are chatting before the\n class begins.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Incorrigible? I don't believe in that.\n All dogs want to learn. But they can't\n when their owners are weak-willed.\n\n JOHN\n", "She presses his butt to\n the ground, and he rolls over for a belly rub. She tries to\n tug him into place and he grabs the leash in his teeth,\n shaking it playfully.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT (CONT'D)\n That, class, is an example of a dog\n that has been foolishly allowed to\n believe he is the alpha male of his\n pack. And therefore he cannot be a\n happy animal.\n\n JOHN\n (from the sidelines)\n Yeah, he", "Marley. You flunked\n obedience school.\n\n JENNY\n You know, John, there is something else\n we can do--\n\n JOHN\n (looks at her)\n No, no, I'm not doing that to him.\n\n JENNY\n It's painless. And he'll be a lot more\n comfortable. It'll calm him down.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, you know why he'll be calmer?\n Because he'", "put it. around Marley's\n neck. Marley, liking its shiny jingling, tries to eat it.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 36.\n\n 57 CONTINUED: 57\n Much tussling, and John finally gets it around Marley's neck -\n but Marley still manages to grab it in his teeth.\n\n JOHN\n He likes it.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n That's", " Oh my God.\n It's a mess. It's almost incredible that it's all due to a\n single puppy. The box is in shreds; so are the blankets. A\n puddle of urine on the floor. A large piece of dry wall has\n been chewed off near the big garage door. The garbage cans\n are overturned. Marley is whimpering in the corner.\n\n JOHN\n Wow. Okay, this is not how I left it.\n\n JENNY\n", "looks really bummed.\n Kornblut hears him, death stares John.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n You. Joker. Rotate in.\n John looks at Jenny who shrugs, holds up the leash for him to\n take.\n\n 57 CUT TO: A HEAVY CHOKE CHAIN 57\n As Ms. Kornblut demonstrates on her wrist.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n The choke chain. When your animal\n walks properly by your side,", "\n 37.\n\n 57 CONTINUED: (2) 57\n\n MS. KORNBLUT (CONT'D)\n Rein in that dog! All right, everyone,\n line up again. Demonstration. Mr.\n Grogan? Pay attention.\n She takes the leash from John and efficiently guides him into\n line with the other dogs.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT (CONT'D)\n It's a simple question of confidence in\n one's own authority. Sh", "\n As Jenny pushes John back onto the bed, starts kissing\n Things getting hot and heavy quickly. As they kiss...\n\n JENNY\n Honey?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah...\n\n JENNY\n Did you eat some kibble?\n\n JOHN\n What?\n And now they part and we see MARLEY'S HUGE FACE RESTING ON\n THE SIDE OF THE BED, watching, panting up a storm.\n\n JOHN", "30\n\n John, dressed to go out, is setting down Marley in his wooden\n box on the garage floor.\n\n JOHN\n I'll see you in the morning, okay?\n Marley looks at him with a heartbreaking expression. John\n hesitates.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Aw, come on, don't. You'll be fine,\n alright. And tomorrow, we're gonna\n tear it up. I'm thinking kibble, park,\n che", "on Debby, knocking her back.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Shooting Draft 3106/07 60.\n\n MARLEY & ME\n\n 83\n\n 83 CONTINUED:\n\n DEBBY (CONT'D)\n I'm okay! I'm okay!\n\n JOHN\n He's not supposed to do that. You have\n to knee him. Anyway, it won", "both would, since we want\n him to listen to both of us at home -\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n A dog can only answer to one master.\n Which one of you has the most natural\n authority in your own relationship?\n\n JOHN\n\n (BEAT)\n I'll watch.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n I thought so. We begin.\n\n 56 EXT. PARK - LATER 56\n\n As Ms. Kornblut gestures,", "pantry to get the\n dustpan and brush. When he returns, he finds Marley has\n eaten the food in the bowl AND every last scrap of spilled\n food. And now he's squatting to pee again...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n No, no, no!\n He picks up the puppy and rushes him outside.\n\n 27 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - NIGHT 27\n\n As John sets him down on the ground, steps back." ], [ " JOHN\n Three. Here's a picture of\n everybody...\n John pulls a photo from his wallet, hands it to Sebastian.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n\n (NODS)\n Jenny's holding up.\n\n JOHN\n (ignores the callowness)\n Yeah, she's great. And that's Colleen\n our youngest...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n What's with the ladybug get-up?\n\n JOHN\n ", "CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Happy Birthday.\n\n JENNY\n Oh my God... they're adorable...\n\n (THEN)\n Wait a minute, my birthday's a month\n from now.\n\n LORI\n That's okay, they can't leave for\n another three weeks anyway.\n\n JENNY\n John, we never even talked about this.\n\n JOHN\n You're right. Let", ". John\n\n N\n reads about Ireland in the guide book. Jenny sees a woma\n with a child. She smiles. No tears.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n There are just a few things about\n Marley you need to know. He eats three\n times a day. If he looks starved, feed\n him again. Of course all this food has\n to go somewhere.\n\n 86\n\n 86 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - DAY", "JENNY\n Like right now.\n\n 70 INT. ELEVATOR - DAY 70\n\n In the f.g., stands a harried thirty-something FATHER with a\n screaming INFANT in a Bjorn. John stands just behind the\n father who bounces in place trying unsuccessfully to soothe\n the baby.\n\n GIRL'S VOICE\n Daddy!\n And now, another KID, 4-year-old girl, jumps up in and out of\n frame", ", then stands up.\n\n JENNY\n Good-bye, Clearance Puppy.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n 226 EXT. GRAVE SITE - LATER 226\n\n John puts few big stones on top of the tamped-down earth. He\n sits on his haunches beside the grave, looks up at the house\n across the yard.\n\n JOHN'S POV - THE HOUSE\n All lit up. We see the kids sitting by the fire while Jenny\n", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", "\n And he kisses Jenny. Hugs the kids. Jenny watches him as he i en t e d , distracted.\n shakes hands, hugs their friends, disor\n\n 170\n\n 170 INT. LAUNDRY ROOM - NIGHT\n\n here.\n John , closes\n John petsdthe dog, rta es\n up , g greets John. k\n\n JOHN\n Forty. Jesus Christ...\n He looks at Marley a moment, then...\n\n JO", ". John tries\n not to be too taken aback by the blaze.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 98.\n\n 171\n\n 171 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n Okay, who wants to help me here? Kids?\n Marley, you too.\n Jenny squats down with the cake, and John and his kids start\n to blow out the candles.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n One", " John enters, carrying Patrick, supplies to fix the screen.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny?\n A wet Marley bounds into the house, heads for the back. John\n follows.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 76.\n\n 130\n\n 130 INT. BATHROOM - SAME\n\n\n THE\n Jenny is crouched on the floor when John appears in\n doorway.\n\n JOHN\n Hey. You alright?\n", "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", "you can\n watch the baby for me?\n\n JOHN\n Sure.\n John looks around the room. The place is a disaster area.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Remember us?\n\n JENNY\n You mean, those younger, skinnier\n better looking people? Yeah, I think I\n remember them. Vaguely.\n\n JOHN\n Well, I miss them.\n He turns back to his work. She looks at him, sets her pad\n aside, comes", "'t happen\n the whole time. Just maybe when you\n come home.\n (handing her a binder)\n This is everything you need to know.\n\n 84\n\n 84 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DAY\n\n John and Jenny lug their suitcases across the front lawn to\n the car, Marley running around them. Debby's glancing\n through the binder.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Debby. Welcome to our home! Marley is\n", "s up, sees Jenny now standing in the doorway, tying\n her robe, looking at him anxiously.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n He's coming home.\n\n 201\n\n 201 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up. He gets out of the SUV, walks around and\n opens the back window and now Marley sits up into view.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", " \n\n \n\n \n 23.\n\n 28\n\n 28 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Marley. I like that...\n\n 29 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 29\n\n John's on the phone, talking to Jenny as he follows Marley\n around the room, trying to keep shoes and socks and cords out\n of his mouth...\n\n JOHN\n Are you sure? Because it can be\n", "\n Butterly looks at them sourly. So do the other guests.\n\n JENNY\n\n (TO JOHN)\n They heard us.\n\n JOHN\n No...\n He jumps as Mrs. Butterly slams the teapot on the table.\n\n MRS. BUTTERLY\n Tea?\n (looks him in the eye)\n I'm off to Mass.\n Mrs. Butterly leaves. John and Jenny look at the other\n guests. They smile bravely.", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 49.\n\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n\n SEBASTIAN\n So the puppy wasn't enough?\n\n JOHN\n Well, technically, we're not trying.\n But you know Jenny.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n But things are good right now, just as\n they are, right?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, things are really good.\n\n SEBA", "60 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n well, that blows me away. And we're\n not doing this. It was wrong of me to\n ask.\n He comes over and sits down beside her.\n\n JOHN\n\n G\n Maybe not, maybe Marley is one thin\n too many.\n\n JENNY\n I got overwhelmed, John. I mean, be.\n one tells you how hard it's gonna\n\n JOHN\n", "Jenny. He\n gets up, sits by her side of the bed, and waits.\n Suddenly Jenny sits up, rests a hand on her stomach.\n\n JENNY\n\n WHOA--\n She catches her breath, leans over to John.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n John. John, wake up.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n JENNY\n I think it's time.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his" ], [ "'re not happy\n here anymore, doing that column.\n You're restless, John. I feel it. I\n feel it when you read Sebastian's\n articles every day. And I feel it when\n you sit out in the driveway an extra\n five minutes before you come in.\n\n (THEN)\n Maybe it's time for a change.\n\n JOHN\n I'm forty, Jen. Seems kinda late for\n that.\n\n JENNY\n Not so late.\n ", "\n And he kisses Jenny. Hugs the kids. Jenny watches him as he i en t e d , distracted.\n shakes hands, hugs their friends, disor\n\n 170\n\n 170 INT. LAUNDRY ROOM - NIGHT\n\n here.\n John , closes\n John petsdthe dog, rta es\n up , g greets John. k\n\n JOHN\n Forty. Jesus Christ...\n He looks at Marley a moment, then...\n\n JO", "50 years is a\n turn-on.\n They roll into each others' arms, the bed squeaking.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 64.\n\n 97 CONTINUED: 97\n\n JOHN\n Maybe she's deaf...\n\n 98 INT. IRISH B & B - DAY 98\n\n The next morning. John and Jenny, looking flushed and\n relaxed, and slightly abashed, come downstairs. Mrs.", "IGHT\n\n John pulls into the driveway, gets out.\n\n 169\n\n 169 INT. BOCA HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n John opens the door. He flicks on the lights and 100 people\n shout \"Surprise!\" There are banners hung from the ceiling,\n reading \"HAPPY 40TH.\"\n Jenny is standing there, holding Colleen. Conor, aged 5 and\n Patrick age 7 run to their father.\n\n JENNY\n Happy birthday, honey!", " 70\n\n 70 CONTINUED:\n And now the little girl starts bawling in concert with the\n baby, while a trapped John backs up into the corner.\n\n 71\n\n 71 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John gets out of the car. The young Girl next door gives him\n a wave as she starts down the sidewalk with her boyfriend.\n\n JOHN\n Hi.\n\n GIRL\n Hi.\n John watches", "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", "(CONT'D)\n Hey. So... you're gonna tell me,\n right? When it's time? Because I\n don't wanna make that decision on my\n own. So you just let me know when\n you're ready, okay?\n Marley rests his chin on John's arm.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 116.\n\n 205\n\n 205 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT", "hasn't soured, John. You have.\n\n (THEN)\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n I don't know. Maybe it's turning 40\n next week, or maybe...\n\n ARNIE\n Maybe what?\n\n JOHN\n Maybe I'm sick of my column. I don't\n really think I'm all that interesting.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 97.\n ", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", " Oh, Please. Every book says he'll live\n\n LONGER--\n\n JOHN\n It'll just feel longer.\n\n JENNY\n John, he's out of control. It's the\n right thing to do.\n John sighs, looks at Marley who's now humping the stuffed\n \"goofy\" that Jenny gave him as a puppy.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 39.\n\n 59\n", "EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - NIGHT 140\n\n John pulls into his driveway, turns off the car and just sits\n there.\n\n 141 INT. JOHN'S CAR - SAME 141\n\n As John looks at the house... the windows all lit up. Inside\n Jenny moves about with the baby over her shoulder as Patrick\n chases Marley around the room. John sits in the car, unable\n to move, just watching the chaos in the window.\n Marley jumps up against", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", " Yes, it is.\n\n JOHN\n Anyway.\n John smiles at her, then goes to his sons...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 96.\n \n\n 166\n\n 166 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n C'mon, guys, back to work...\n She watches as he kneels down beside the boys, resumes\n digging alongside them.\n\n 167", "37\n\n John has his head buried under the pillows AS THE WAILING AND\n KEENING GO ON. AND ON. AND ON. Finally, John can't take it\n anymore. He sits up, pulls earplugs out of his ears.\n\n 38\n\n 38 INT. GARAGE - NIGHT\n\n As the light comes on and Marley's head appears over the top\n of the box. John sighs, comes over and scoops him up...\n\n 39 INT. 345 CH", "has to\n take care of.\n (points at him)\n You have a kid, you're a dad. You're\n not you anymore. You have a dog,\n you're a master. You're still a guy.\n With a life.\n\n JOHN\n And a dog...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Whatever, man. You're still free.\n You've stopped the clock.\n\n JOHN\n What clock?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n", ". John tries\n not to be too taken aback by the blaze.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 98.\n\n 171\n\n 171 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n Okay, who wants to help me here? Kids?\n Marley, you too.\n Jenny squats down with the cake, and John and his kids start\n to blow out the candles.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n One", "But I do, and I'll see him in the\n morning.\n We TRACK WITH JOHN as he storms out of the exam room, walks\n down the hall, goes through waiting room, then he PASSES US\n as he goes out into the dark parking lot, walks to his car\n and stops.\n We stay BEHIND HIM as he leans with one hand on his car, and\n doesn't move.\n\n 198\n\n 198 INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n ", " takes a breath and gets to his feet.\n\n JOHN\n Wish me luck.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm sure he'll give you the raise.\n\n JOHN\n How do you know?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n He always gives me one.\n John just shakes his head, starts for Arnie's office.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 78.\n\n 132\n\n 13", ". John\n\n N\n reads about Ireland in the guide book. Jenny sees a woma\n with a child. She smiles. No tears.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n There are just a few things about\n Marley you need to know. He eats three\n times a day. If he looks starved, feed\n him again. Of course all this food has\n to go somewhere.\n\n 86\n\n 86 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - DAY" ], [ "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", ", claps his hand and whistles...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Now Jenny appears in the front door.\n\n JENNY\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n He's not coming.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n John starts off into the dark...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 108.\n\n 190\n\n 190 CONTINUED:\n\n ", "'D)\n Okay.\n\n 206\n\n 206 INT. UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n Jenny is at the top of the stairs.\n\n JENNY\n Marley?\n (turns to John)\n Have you seen him?\n\n JOHN\n He's not up here.\n\n 207\n\n 207 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n A\n John and Jenny find Marley lying peacefully in front of", "edge of the property.\n Marley lies on the ground, in a hollow, hidden from view from\n the hill above. His belly is swollen, his face drawn. It's\n clear he's very ill.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay, boy, it's okay...\n\n 197\n\n 197 INT. VETERINARY TREATMENT ROOM - NIGHT\n\n John stands with DR. PLATT, a female vet. Marley lies on the\n floor in a dog bed,", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "37\n\n John has his head buried under the pillows AS THE WAILING AND\n KEENING GO ON. AND ON. AND ON. Finally, John can't take it\n anymore. He sits up, pulls earplugs out of his ears.\n\n 38\n\n 38 INT. GARAGE - NIGHT\n\n As the light comes on and Marley's head appears over the top\n of the box. John sighs, comes over and scoops him up...\n\n 39 INT. 345 CH", "es with the boys at the foot of the. steps,\n Marley all over them, licking whatever faces he can get.\n Colleen comes out the front door, stands at the top of the\n steps...\n\n COLLEEN\n Mommy says dinner and take off your\n shoes.\n\n JOHN\n Alright... c'mon guys...\n They all get up, start up the steps. Marley follows, takes\n one step when his hind legs buckle. John looks back at him.\n\n\n\n \n\n", "ley trots outside.\n\n 189\n\n 189 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John comes back into the room a moment...\n\n JOHN\n It's pouring out there...\n He grabs his slicker and heads back out...\n\n 190\n\n 190 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John returns, steps outside, but Marley is nowhere to be\n seen. John", "illuminated by the TV, as he watches SILENT IMAGES from\n Grogan family home videos:\n TWO-YEAR-OLD PATRICK rides on Marley's back through the house\n at 345 Churchill, young Marley's tail knocking over\n everything within range, toddler and dog both joyous.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 122.\n\n 224\n\n 224 INT. CLINIC - NIGHT\n\n As", "Marley's eyes finally close. The CAMERA drifts to John's\n hand, stroking Marley's side. Dr. Platt listens to Marley's\n heart and says:\n\n DR. PLATT\n He's gone.\n FROM ABOVE, the dog on the table, the doctor discreetly going\n to the side, and John laying his head next to Marley and\n putting his arms around him as we now...\n\n 225\n\n 225 EXT. PENNSY", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", ")\n He's waiting for you.\n\n 46 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DRIVEWAY - DAY 46\n\n John and Jenny get out of the car. We hear WHIMPERING in the\n garage.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n She takes off for the side door of the garage.\n\n 47 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - GARAGE - DAY 47\n\n They open the door and freeze.\n\n JENNY\n", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in.", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Nice night, huh?\n Marley looks around, then looks at John. There's something\n in his expression. John nods, knows what he's saying.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Okay, boy.\n (as Marley moves close)\n Okay.\n John, his heart breaking, bends down to carry Marley up the\n front steps of the clinic.\n\n 213\n\n 213 INT. VET WAITING", ". Marley goes through his nighttime\n\n ROUTINE:\n He chews through a sock. He drinks out of the toilet. He\n works on chewing through the plastic dog food tub. Another\n night and he'll be in. He chases a fly.\n Finally he goes to his bed on the floor of the bedroom. He\n settles himself down to sleep. He yawns, he scratches, he\n closes his eyes. He snores. And then -\n He wakes up, suddenly alert. He looks over at", "thing.\n\n 113 OMITTED 113- \n\n 114 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 114 \n\n\n \n As the sun now streams in through the front windows down onto \n Marley, who is sound asleep. We hear A CAR DOOR CLOSE and he\n raises his head...\n A moment later, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS and John comes in and\n Marley greets him, jumps up on his chest.\n", "\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's go for a walk.\n\n 205\n\n 205 EXT. HILL - DAY\n\n As John walks Marley off leash up a hill. At one point, John\n has to stop and wait for Marley to catch up.\n\n JOHN\n Come on, boy, just a little further to\n the top...\n Marley comes up, panting, eyes wet and happy. John looks at\n him, can see how tired he is", "the terrified toy poodle\n leaps into Jenny's arms. Marley tries to brake -\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n - and suddenly, he is jerked back. John has tackled the\n table Marley's dragging. Marley YELPS and lands on his bac k,\n then quickly rights himself, tail wagging, the happiest dog\n in the world.\n Everyone surrounding them on the plaza has frozen silent.\n They all stare at Marley and the Grogans. The p", "wince at once...\n\n CONOR\n Marley!\n They all begin waving their hands in front of their faces.\n\n JENNY\n I think someone needs to go out.\n\n JOHN\n\n (GETS UP)\n Come on, boy...\n Marley gets to his feet, follows John to the front door.\n\n 188\n\n 188 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Rain falls as John opens the door and Mar" ], [ "LVANIA HOUSE - DAY\n\n As the five Grogans walk across the-property. Colleen sits\n on John's shoulders. They reach a clearing where we see a\n small grave has been dug. John sets Colleen down...\n\n COLLEEN\n He's wrapped in his blanket...\n\n JOHN\n So he'll be warm.\n\n JENNY\n You guys want to read your letters?\n\n COLLEEN\n Mine is a picture. Of me and Marley.\n", "37\n\n John has his head buried under the pillows AS THE WAILING AND\n KEENING GO ON. AND ON. AND ON. Finally, John can't take it\n anymore. He sits up, pulls earplugs out of his ears.\n\n 38\n\n 38 INT. GARAGE - NIGHT\n\n As the light comes on and Marley's head appears over the top\n of the box. John sighs, comes over and scoops him up...\n\n 39 INT. 345 CH", "'D)\n Okay.\n\n 206\n\n 206 INT. UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n Jenny is at the top of the stairs.\n\n JENNY\n Marley?\n (turns to John)\n Have you seen him?\n\n JOHN\n He's not up here.\n\n 207\n\n 207 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n A\n John and Jenny find Marley lying peacefully in front of", "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", ")\n He's waiting for you.\n\n 46 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DRIVEWAY - DAY 46\n\n John and Jenny get out of the car. We hear WHIMPERING in the\n garage.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n She takes off for the side door of the garage.\n\n 47 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - GARAGE - DAY 47\n\n They open the door and freeze.\n\n JENNY\n", "Marley's eyes finally close. The CAMERA drifts to John's\n hand, stroking Marley's side. Dr. Platt listens to Marley's\n heart and says:\n\n DR. PLATT\n He's gone.\n FROM ABOVE, the dog on the table, the doctor discreetly going\n to the side, and John laying his head next to Marley and\n putting his arms around him as we now...\n\n 225\n\n 225 EXT. PENNSY", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "wince at once...\n\n CONOR\n Marley!\n They all begin waving their hands in front of their faces.\n\n JENNY\n I think someone needs to go out.\n\n JOHN\n\n (GETS UP)\n Come on, boy...\n Marley gets to his feet, follows John to the front door.\n\n 188\n\n 188 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Rain falls as John opens the door and Mar", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", "ley trots outside.\n\n 189\n\n 189 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John comes back into the room a moment...\n\n JOHN\n It's pouring out there...\n He grabs his slicker and heads back out...\n\n 190\n\n 190 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John returns, steps outside, but Marley is nowhere to be\n seen. John", ", wondering where Marley is...\n\n 126 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - LATER 126\n\n A crime scene. Jenny, clutching the baby, stands on the porch\n watching as an AMBULANCE pulls away. John, now in shorts and\n a T-shirt, comes jogging up the walk.\n\n JOHN\n I can't find him anywhere.\n\n JENNY\n Maybe we should get in the car, drive\n around.\n\n JO", " And grasshoppers. And ice cream.\n Mommy wrote what I said. \"Dear Marley.\n I will never forget you, forever.\" And\n those are kisses.\n\n JOHN\n It's beautiful, honey. He'll like it.\n Drop it in. Conor?\n Conor reads his piece of paper.\n\n CONOR\n \"Dear Marley. I loved you all my life.\n I hope you like heaven and that there's\n lots to chew on. Your brother,", " moves about the kitchen getting dinner ready.\n John sits there watching them. watching his family. The\n family that both he and Marley grew up in.\n He gives the fresh dirt a final, loving pat and then, as the\n last bit of sun goes down, he stands up, and heads for home.\n\n FADE OUT\n\n\n\n", "Marley take care of her. No\n words, just being there. A lesson here. Her head down,\n Jenny raises one arm up towards John and John goes to the\n couch and wraps his arms around both of them. We then...\n\n FADE OUT.\n\n DEBBY (V.O.)\n Oh. He's... big.\n\n 83 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - LIVING ROOM - DAY 83\n\n With difficulty, John holds back Marley to protect DEBBY ---", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", ", claps his hand and whistles...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Now Jenny appears in the front door.\n\n JENNY\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n He's not coming.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n John starts off into the dark...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 108.\n\n 190\n\n 190 CONTINUED:\n\n ", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", "edge of the property.\n Marley lies on the ground, in a hollow, hidden from view from\n the hill above. His belly is swollen, his face drawn. It's\n clear he's very ill.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay, boy, it's okay...\n\n 197\n\n 197 INT. VETERINARY TREATMENT ROOM - NIGHT\n\n John stands with DR. PLATT, a female vet. Marley lies on the\n floor in a dog bed,", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his" ], [ " I'm John Grogan.\n\n JENNY\n Wrong. You're John Friggin Grogan\n who's about to get a job.\n She leans over and gives him a big, long kiss.\n\n JOHN\n Um, okay, see now I don't wanna get out\n of the car.\n\n JENNY\n\n JOHN€”\n\n JOHN\n i really just wanna sit here and make\n out with you.\n\n J", " 8 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n And now, please join me in raising a\n glass to my future neighbors down in\n Florida, and to the dawn of both a\n marriage end a brilliant journalistic\n team, the new Woodward and Bernstein,\n this time with sex. Bad sex, probably,\n but - anyway: to John and Jenny\n Grogan.\n\n AND NOW PUSH IN ON JOHN AND JENNY\n She's had an ffect on\n ", ".\n\n ARNIE\n Your wife's Jenny Havens, right?\n\n JOHN\n Well, Jenny Grogan now--\n\n ARNIE\n She take the job at the Post?\n\n JOHN\n\n YEAH--\n\n ARNIE\n I tried to get her over her\n\n JOHN\n\n OH--\n\n ARNIE\n Damn fine writer.\n\n (THEN)\n\n (MORE)", " Yeah, I mean...\n\n (THEN)\n .yeah.\n\n 68\n\n 68 INT. SUN-SENTINAL OFFICE - DAY\n\n desk.\n John walks out of the office, pensive, sits down at his\n His PHONE RINGS.\n\n JOHN\n Grogan.\n\n 69\n\n 69 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - SAME\n\n Jenny on the phone, looking at a dry erase calendar.", "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", "He hangs up, goes to the window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna get in the car, maybe drive\n\n OVER TO--\n (he sees something)\n Jenny.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Shooting Draft 109.\n\n MARLEY & ME\n\n 196\n\n 196 EXT. FRONT LAWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny run to'a tree at the", "ers.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n From there, they went on to work\n together at the school newspaper.\n\n SHOT OF JENNY IN THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE\n Shot of Jenny standing at the head of a table full of\n reporters.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Although, technically, they didn't work\n together so much as John worked for\n Jenny who was the editor of said\n paper...\n\n SHOT OF JEN", "\n JOHN\n Hey, boy... let's go outside...\n\n 115 EXT. BACKYARD - MORNING 115\n\n As Marley relieves himself, John yawning in the b.g.\n\n 116 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING 116\n\n As Jenny unpacks her suitcase. Marley bounds into the room\n and greets her.\n\n JENNY\n Hello, Marley...\n She crouches down, gives him", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Happy Birthday.\n\n JENNY\n Oh my God... they're adorable...\n\n (THEN)\n Wait a minute, my birthday's a month\n from now.\n\n LORI\n That's okay, they can't leave for\n another three weeks anyway.\n\n JENNY\n John, we never even talked about this.\n\n JOHN\n You're right. Let", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "ONKING BEHIND THEM.\n\n JOHN\n Uh, little help here...\n John's stuck. He can't pull the dog back in the window and he\n can't open the door. He can't let go as angry drivers behind\n them are now starting to swerve around them. John hangs on\n for dear life...\n\n JENNY\n I got him!\n\n 62\n\n 62 EXT. BRIDGE - SAME\n\n As Jenny puts on the flash", " 60\n\n 60 EXT. INTERCOASTAL WATERWAY BRIDGE - SAME\n\n As Jenny slows down in heavy traffic, John lunges out the\n window after Marley, grabs the end of his tail with one hand\n so that Marley dangles upside down, outside the car, by his\n tail... He trots along the pavement with his front paws...\n\n 61\n\n 61 INT. CAR - SANE\n\n Jenny gets the car stopped, HORNS H", "ed Toyota Tercel comes over. a rise.\n We follow the car through town, get\n\n SUPER: \"1990\"\n\n 11 INT. CAR - DAY 11\n\n Jenny driving. John clutching his portfolio on his lap. She\n cuts a look at him.\n\n JENNY\n You okay?\n\n JOHN\n Oh yeah.\n\n 12 EXT. FORT LAUDERDALE SUN-SENTINEL NEWSPAPER BUILDING", "the terrified toy poodle\n leaps into Jenny's arms. Marley tries to brake -\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n - and suddenly, he is jerked back. John has tackled the\n table Marley's dragging. Marley YELPS and lands on his bac k,\n then quickly rights himself, tail wagging, the happiest dog\n in the world.\n Everyone surrounding them on the plaza has frozen silent.\n They all stare at Marley and the Grogans. The p", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", "You really sure about this? I mean, a\n puppy's a lot of work.\n\n JOHN\n How hard could it be?\n We hear A COMMOTION is coming from the woods, something\n crashing through the brush, breathing heavily. They both\n freeze as the sound comes their way.\n\n JENNY\n What's that?\n Just then they are nearly knocked off their feet by a huge,\n rampaging Labrador, soaking wet, covered with mud and burrs.\n It circles them", "T. BACKYARD - NIGHT 121\n\n John stands there letting Marley out. He looks back at the\n house, watches Jenny through the window as she sets Patrick\n down in his crib, shuts the light out.\n\n 122 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 122\n\n They're both working at their desks. Jenny looks up from her\n computer.\n\n JENNY\n I need to go in tomorrow for a few\n hours, see my editor. Think" ], [ "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", "3 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm going to New York.\n Sebastian smiles. John doesn't move.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n The Gray Lady came courting last week.\n\n (THEN)\n Times,\n I'm talking about the New York\n\n BUDDY--\n\n JOHN\n I know who you're talking about.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You don't", "\n \n\n 9.\n \n\n 14\n\n 14 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Like a Pulitzer, but for western\n Michigan.\n\n ARNIE\n A Mitchy. Min-hmm. So, tell me, why\n did you want to leave the estimable -\n (he flips to a story, reads\n\n THE HEADING)\n - Kalamazoo Gazette?\n\n JOHN\n ", "ers.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n From there, they went on to work\n together at the school newspaper.\n\n SHOT OF JENNY IN THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE\n Shot of Jenny standing at the head of a table full of\n reporters.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Although, technically, they didn't work\n together so much as John worked for\n Jenny who was the editor of said\n paper...\n\n SHOT OF JEN", "ed Toyota Tercel comes over. a rise.\n We follow the car through town, get\n\n SUPER: \"1990\"\n\n 11 INT. CAR - DAY 11\n\n Jenny driving. John clutching his portfolio on his lap. She\n cuts a look at him.\n\n JENNY\n You okay?\n\n JOHN\n Oh yeah.\n\n 12 EXT. FORT LAUDERDALE SUN-SENTINEL NEWSPAPER BUILDING", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", ". Six hundred\n words.\n\n EDITOR\n And what's the subject?\n\n JOHN\n Everyday stuff. The stuff we all go\n through. But funnier.\n\n EDITOR\n I don't get it. I thought you came\n here to be a reporter.\n\n JOHN\n I did, but I think we both know that\n isn't me. I'm a columnist. A good\n one.\n A SECRETARY sticks her head in the office...", "\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 10.\n 1\n\n 4\n\n 14 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n ARNIE (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, the Post didn't want\n Yo m?\n\n JOHN\n Well, she does features. I'm more a\n straight news writer. This is a better\n paper for that.\n\n ARNIE\n Straight news writer", "to fellow staff and reporters, most of\n them at least ten years younger than he is. He's shown his\n desk. John sits down at his cubicle, stares out the window\n at the city. His EDITOR, black, John's age, approaches with\n a much younger REPORTER...\n\n EDITOR\n Hey, John. Settling in okay?\n\n JOHN\n I'm fine, thanks.\n\n EDITOR\n Good. I want you to meet Billy...\n He indicates the twenty-", " 173\n\n 173 INT. SUN-SENTINAL OFFICE - DAY\n\n out of his\n As John packs up his desk. Arnie sticks his head\n office.\n\n ARNIE\n Hey, Gorgan.\n John smiles to himself, walks over.\n\n ARNIE (CONT'D)\n I just wanted to say good luck up\n there.\n\n JOHN\n Thank you, sir.\n\n ARNIE\n Also, there's", "Jenny's sitting at the table looking through a thick album\n when John comes in. She looks up at him expectantly.\n\n JOHN\n We're just gonna have to wait and see.\n If he makes it through the night, I\n think we'll be alright.\n He notices the album.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What're you looking at?\n\n JENNY\n Your old columns. He's in a lot of\n 'em.\n\n\n\n ", ".\n\n ARNIE\n Your wife's Jenny Havens, right?\n\n JOHN\n Well, Jenny Grogan now--\n\n ARNIE\n She take the job at the Post?\n\n JOHN\n\n YEAH--\n\n ARNIE\n I tried to get her over her\n\n JOHN\n\n OH--\n\n ARNIE\n Damn fine writer.\n\n (THEN)\n\n (MORE)", "N\n Okay. I'll take him out.\n She looks up at him.\n\n JENNY\n I want you to get him out of here and\n keep him out of here.\n\n JOHN\n What'd he do--\n\n JENNY\n I mean it, John. I want him gone. I\n want him gone for good.\n\n 153\n\n 153 INT. SUN-SENTINEL OFFICES - DAY\n\n\n SEES THE\n ", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", "14 INT. EDITOR'S OFFICE - DAY (1990) 14\n\n ARNIE KLEIN -- fifties, never smiles, flowered shirts -- the\n editor of the Sun-Sentinel of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, is\n flipping through John's portfolio.\n\n JOHN\n Yes, sir, I got a Mitchy.\n (off Arnie's look)\n\n (MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "John sits at his desk, tries to write a column. Sebastian, in\n a flak jacket, pauses at his desk...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Strip mall get approved?\n\n JOHN\n Riveting planning commission vote.\n Knuckle-biter. 8 to 1.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You up for a beer?\n\n JOHN\n Can't, I gotta finish the column.\n Maybe tomorrow?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n", "John sits across from the editor.\n\n JOHN\n Too much color.\n\n EDITOR\n Yeah, I mean, don't get me wrong, it's\n a good piece, but... you're reporting\n now, John. I want you to tell the\n story, I don't want you to be in the\n\n STORY--\n\n JOHN\n I'm pretty sure I don't mention myself--\n\n EDITOR\n The point is, I still feel you in\n ", "\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 117.\n\n 207\n\n 207 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Just like old times.\n\n THUMP. THUMP.\n\n 208\n\n 208 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY\n\n John sits across from his editor.\n\n JOHN\n It'd be twice a week", "just gave Arnie my notice.\n John looks over at Arnie's office, the door's closed.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n He's not too happy about it. He called\n me an ungrateful quizzling and threw a\n stapler at me.\n\n JOHN\n You going over to the Post?\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 89.\n \n\n 153\n\n 15", " Yeah, I mean...\n\n (THEN)\n .yeah.\n\n 68\n\n 68 INT. SUN-SENTINAL OFFICE - DAY\n\n desk.\n John walks out of the office, pensive, sits down at his\n His PHONE RINGS.\n\n JOHN\n Grogan.\n\n 69\n\n 69 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - SAME\n\n Jenny on the phone, looking at a dry erase calendar." ], [ "ers.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n From there, they went on to work\n together at the school newspaper.\n\n SHOT OF JENNY IN THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE\n Shot of Jenny standing at the head of a table full of\n reporters.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Although, technically, they didn't work\n together so much as John worked for\n Jenny who was the editor of said\n paper...\n\n SHOT OF JEN", ".\n\n ARNIE\n Your wife's Jenny Havens, right?\n\n JOHN\n Well, Jenny Grogan now--\n\n ARNIE\n She take the job at the Post?\n\n JOHN\n\n YEAH--\n\n ARNIE\n I tried to get her over her\n\n JOHN\n\n OH--\n\n ARNIE\n Damn fine writer.\n\n (THEN)\n\n (MORE)", "is\n longer and more important than his. She finally gets up...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 13.\n \n\n 17\n\n 17 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n JENNY\n You know what? The rest is just okay,\n really pretty boring...\n\n JOHN\n No, no, I'm enjoying it...\n He tortures himself and keeps reading. She moves to the sink,\n starts to rin", "\n JENNY\n Right...\n\n JOHN\n So what came next?\n\n JENNY\n Let's see... a new car maybe?\n\n JOHN\n afterthat?\n We can do that. What was\n\n JENNY\n\n (BEAT)\n You sure you wanna know?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah.\n\n JENNY\n well, it was between a new roof and a\n baby.\n He studies her for a", " I'm John Grogan.\n\n JENNY\n Wrong. You're John Friggin Grogan\n who's about to get a job.\n She leans over and gives him a big, long kiss.\n\n JOHN\n Um, okay, see now I don't wanna get out\n of the car.\n\n JENNY\n\n JOHN€”\n\n JOHN\n i really just wanna sit here and make\n out with you.\n\n J", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", "s gonna feel\n better. Understand?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah.\n (indicates the door)\n Can I just--\n\n ARNIE\n Go ahead. There's a jeweler on the\n corner. Mention my name.\n\n 76\n\n 76 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT\n\n Lit with candles. Jenny and John on the couch. She removes\n a beautiful gold necklace from a box and holds it up...\n\n J", "alright. I'll\n just be different. Maybe e\n it'll, b better, nobody poking your\n yanking your tail. Who knows? Could\n be better.\n\n 159 INT. KITCHEN - SAME 159\n\n Jenny's been watching. She stands there thoughtfully as John\n puts the frisbee in the box and resumes the hunt for the rest\n of Marley's stuff, the dog following him.\n\n 160 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 1", "quirer.\n She looks at him.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n They're offering me a job.\n\n (THEN)\n As a reporter. I guess the editor was\n down here on vacation, read my stuff.\n\n JENNY\n What'd you say?\n\n JOHN\n I said thank you very much, but I'm\n happy where I am. I mean, it's a big\n change, Florida to Pennsylvania.\n\n JENNY\n", "\n\n JOHN\n Sure, we can. With both our salaries--\n\n JENNY\n Yeah, about that... I don't think I'm\n gonna be able to keep working.\n\n (MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 77.\n\n 130\n\n 130 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n\n (THEN)\n I'm pregnant", "\n\n JENNY\n Not to me... I did something wrong. I\n know it... I did something wrong. I'm\n sorry, John...\n\n JOHN\n Don't say that--\n\n JENNY\n But I am-- I'm sorry--\n\n JOHN\n I don't need sorry. You didn't do\n anything!\n She turns away and begins to cry. John just sits there,\n staring at the videotape in his hands.\n Outside in the", " JOHN\n Three. Here's a picture of\n everybody...\n John pulls a photo from his wallet, hands it to Sebastian.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n\n (NODS)\n Jenny's holding up.\n\n JOHN\n (ignores the callowness)\n Yeah, she's great. And that's Colleen\n our youngest...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n What's with the ladybug get-up?\n\n JOHN\n ", "you can\n watch the baby for me?\n\n JOHN\n Sure.\n John looks around the room. The place is a disaster area.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Remember us?\n\n JENNY\n You mean, those younger, skinnier\n better looking people? Yeah, I think I\n remember them. Vaguely.\n\n JOHN\n Well, I miss them.\n He turns back to his work. She looks at him, sets her pad\n aside, comes", "Jenny's sitting at the table looking through a thick album\n when John comes in. She looks up at him expectantly.\n\n JOHN\n We're just gonna have to wait and see.\n If he makes it through the night, I\n think we'll be alright.\n He notices the album.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What're you looking at?\n\n JENNY\n Your old columns. He's in a lot of\n 'em.\n\n\n\n ", " 8 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n And now, please join me in raising a\n glass to my future neighbors down in\n Florida, and to the dawn of both a\n marriage end a brilliant journalistic\n team, the new Woodward and Bernstein,\n this time with sex. Bad sex, probably,\n but - anyway: to John and Jenny\n Grogan.\n\n AND NOW PUSH IN ON JOHN AND JENNY\n She's had an ffect on\n ", "(MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 59.\n\n 82 CONTINUED: 82\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Take some time off. It'll be fun,\n clear our heads, right?\n\n (NO RESPONSE)\n Jenny?\n No answer. He goes into the living room and stops cold:\n\n JOHN'S POV - JENNY & MARLEY\n Jenny sits", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "T. BACKYARD - NIGHT 121\n\n John stands there letting Marley out. He looks back at the\n house, watches Jenny through the window as she sets Patrick\n down in his crib, shuts the light out.\n\n 122 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 122\n\n They're both working at their desks. Jenny looks up from her\n computer.\n\n JENNY\n I need to go in tomorrow for a few\n hours, see my editor. Think", "ED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Okay, maybe a little high-spirited,\n maybe voted Miss Kegger once or twice\n too often on Fraternity ROW, but a good\n girl underneath it all. Now could they\n not fall in love?\n\n TWO PHOTOS JUXTAPOSED\n One of John \"flexing\" beside a lake, another of Jenny\n screaming at a football game with a beer in her hand.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O", "ENNY\n Okay, tell the truth, were you really\n surprised?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. Thanks, Jen.\n She sits down on his lap...\n\n JENNY\n You want your present?\n\n JOHN\n Is it what you gave me last year?\n Because that was real nice--\n She hands him an envelope.\n\n JENNY\n Happy Birthday.\n He opens it, pulls out an AIRLINE TICKET.\n\n JOHN\n A" ], [ "ers.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n From there, they went on to work\n together at the school newspaper.\n\n SHOT OF JENNY IN THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE\n Shot of Jenny standing at the head of a table full of\n reporters.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Although, technically, they didn't work\n together so much as John worked for\n Jenny who was the editor of said\n paper...\n\n SHOT OF JEN", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", " And as he REACHES for it - WHAM'. He hits another car! The\n camera goes flying. Fumbles. SCREAMS. YELLS.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Jesus Christ!\n\n SEBASTIAN\n They're okay! They're getting out.\n Sebastian manages to right the CAMERA and unsteadily films\n John getting out of the car, heading towards the car he hit.\n The passenger door opens and Jenny comes out. She's covered\n in", "ED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Okay, maybe a little high-spirited,\n maybe voted Miss Kegger once or twice\n too often on Fraternity ROW, but a good\n girl underneath it all. Now could they\n not fall in love?\n\n TWO PHOTOS JUXTAPOSED\n One of John \"flexing\" beside a lake, another of Jenny\n screaming at a football game with a beer in her hand.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O", " Can't, I'll be in L.A. Part of that\n drug piece I'm doing--\n\n JOHN\n Right. Another time then.\n John watches him move off, a secretary giving Sebastian a big\n smile as he passes. John sits there another moment, looks at\n his desk. A photo of him and Jenny. One of Marley with a flip\n flop in his mouth.\n John chuckles to himself, then deletes the column, starts\n typing a new one.\n\n 64 INT. ARN", " JOHN\n Three. Here's a picture of\n everybody...\n John pulls a photo from his wallet, hands it to Sebastian.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n\n (NODS)\n Jenny's holding up.\n\n JOHN\n (ignores the callowness)\n Yeah, she's great. And that's Colleen\n our youngest...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n What's with the ladybug get-up?\n\n JOHN\n ", " 8 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n And now, please join me in raising a\n glass to my future neighbors down in\n Florida, and to the dawn of both a\n marriage end a brilliant journalistic\n team, the new Woodward and Bernstein,\n this time with sex. Bad sex, probably,\n but - anyway: to John and Jenny\n Grogan.\n\n AND NOW PUSH IN ON JOHN AND JENNY\n She's had an ffect on\n ", "\n\n JENNY\n Not to me... I did something wrong. I\n know it... I did something wrong. I'm\n sorry, John...\n\n JOHN\n Don't say that--\n\n JENNY\n But I am-- I'm sorry--\n\n JOHN\n I don't need sorry. You didn't do\n anything!\n She turns away and begins to cry. John just sits there,\n staring at the videotape in his hands.\n Outside in the", "So. This is us not trying.\n The bathroom door opens and Jenny walks out in a tiny, silky\n two-piece thing...\n\n JENNY\n Hey, Sailor.\n She walks into the bedroom. John looks back at Marley as he\n follows her into the bedroom.\n\n JOHN\n Catch you later, buddy.\n And closes the door on the dog.\n\n 73 INT. BAR - NIGHT 73\n\n John and Sebastian sit at the bar.\n\n\n\n ", "get started and\n I'll be there as soon as I can.\n\n JENNY\n Very funny. Can you come home? I'll\n make it worth your while.\n\n JOHN\n Oh. Alright then. I'll see what I can\n do.\n He hangs up. Looks at Sebastian.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh, I'm sorry, man, but I gotta jam. I\n forgot, I had this thing, I gotta deal\n\n WITH", "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", "'re not happy\n here anymore, doing that column.\n You're restless, John. I feel it. I\n feel it when you read Sebastian's\n articles every day. And I feel it when\n you sit out in the driveway an extra\n five minutes before you come in.\n\n (THEN)\n Maybe it's time for a change.\n\n JOHN\n I'm forty, Jen. Seems kinda late for\n that.\n\n JENNY\n Not so late.\n ", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 49.\n\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n\n SEBASTIAN\n So the puppy wasn't enough?\n\n JOHN\n Well, technically, we're not trying.\n But you know Jenny.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n But things are good right now, just as\n they are, right?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, things are really good.\n\n SEBA", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", " it up. This one reads \"E F D TO GOOD HOME.\"\n comes up to John.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You giving up the dog? i thought yo u\n loved that thing.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny wants him out.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n That's harsh, man.\n\n JOHN\n I don't know what else to do. She's\n really unhappy. Maybe the dog is just\n one too many things.\n\n SEBA", "(MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 59.\n\n 82 CONTINUED: 82\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Take some time off. It'll be fun,\n clear our heads, right?\n\n (NO RESPONSE)\n Jenny?\n No answer. He goes into the living room and stops cold:\n\n JOHN'S POV - JENNY & MARLEY\n Jenny sits", "CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 102\n\n A THUNDERSTORM outside. John sits at his desk, tries to work\n while Marley walks in circles. John looks at him...\n\n JOHN\n It's only thunder...\n John goes back to work. We hear more THUNDER, and Marley\n starts howling, knocks over a floor lamp... John looks off\n towards the bedroom...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Jenny?! Can you help me out here? I\n ", "but thanks.\n John cuts a look at Sebastian, picks up the phone.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 50.\n \n\n 73 CONTINUED: (2) 73\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Hello.\n\n JENNY (PHONE)\n I just wanted to let you know that\n there's a naked blonde in your bed.\n\n JOHN\n Oh. Why don't you two", "EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 107\n\n Jenny is tottering down the walk as John pulls out of the\n garage, gets her into the passenger seat.\n\n 108 INT. CAR - NIGHT (STATIONARY) 108\n\n\n JOHN\n Ready?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah. You?\n Marley barks from the back seat. They both turn and look at\n him. What's he doing here?\n\n 1", "T. BACKYARD - NIGHT 121\n\n John stands there letting Marley out. He looks back at the\n house, watches Jenny through the window as she sets Patrick\n down in his crib, shuts the light out.\n\n 122 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 122\n\n They're both working at their desks. Jenny looks up from her\n computer.\n\n JENNY\n I need to go in tomorrow for a few\n hours, see my editor. Think" ], [ "John sits at his desk, tries to write a column. Sebastian, in\n a flak jacket, pauses at his desk...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Strip mall get approved?\n\n JOHN\n Riveting planning commission vote.\n Knuckle-biter. 8 to 1.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You up for a beer?\n\n JOHN\n Can't, I gotta finish the column.\n Maybe tomorrow?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n", "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", "ready?\n\n (SPANISH ACCENT)\n I read your piece on Kadahfi, And I\n think you captured his narcissism just\n right.\n\n (LAUGHS)\n Can you believe that?\n\n JOHN\n Some of it.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Man, I wish you could've been there.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, but then I wouldn't have been\n able to do the piece on the water main\n break at", ". Six hundred\n words.\n\n EDITOR\n And what's the subject?\n\n JOHN\n Everyday stuff. The stuff we all go\n through. But funnier.\n\n EDITOR\n I don't get it. I thought you came\n here to be a reporter.\n\n JOHN\n I did, but I think we both know that\n isn't me. I'm a columnist. A good\n one.\n A SECRETARY sticks her head in the office...", "John sits across from the editor.\n\n JOHN\n Too much color.\n\n EDITOR\n Yeah, I mean, don't get me wrong, it's\n a good piece, but... you're reporting\n now, John. I want you to tell the\n story, I don't want you to be in the\n\n STORY--\n\n JOHN\n I'm pretty sure I don't mention myself--\n\n EDITOR\n The point is, I still feel you in\n ", "N\n Yes, sir.\n\n ARNIE\n So why not make it permanent?\n\n JOHN\n You mean, like forever?\n\n ARNIE\n That's what the word \"forever\" means.\n Yes.\n\n (THEN)\n John, you know how many yo yo's in the\n other room would kill to have their own\n column? You took a piece of crap About\n Towner and turned it into something\n fresh.\n\n (SITS BACK", "seem happy for me.\n\n JOHN\n I am. I'm just in shock. I mean, I'm\n in Florida because of you. Woodward\n and Bernstein. Remember? That was the\n idea.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Yeah, that was the idea before you\n decided to be the Andy Rooney of South\n Florida.\n\n JOHN\n I didn't decide to be anything--\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Exactly.\n Boom. That hur", "Jenny's sitting at the table looking through a thick album\n when John comes in. She looks up at him expectantly.\n\n JOHN\n We're just gonna have to wait and see.\n If he makes it through the night, I\n think we'll be alright.\n He notices the album.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What're you looking at?\n\n JENNY\n Your old columns. He's in a lot of\n 'em.\n\n\n\n ", "'re not happy\n here anymore, doing that column.\n You're restless, John. I feel it. I\n feel it when you read Sebastian's\n articles every day. And I feel it when\n you sit out in the driveway an extra\n five minutes before you come in.\n\n (THEN)\n Maybe it's time for a change.\n\n JOHN\n I'm forty, Jen. Seems kinda late for\n that.\n\n JENNY\n Not so late.\n ", "\n \n\n 9.\n \n\n 14\n\n 14 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Like a Pulitzer, but for western\n Michigan.\n\n ARNIE\n A Mitchy. Min-hmm. So, tell me, why\n did you want to leave the estimable -\n (he flips to a story, reads\n\n THE HEADING)\n - Kalamazoo Gazette?\n\n JOHN\n ", "not talk about it.\n Jenny cuts him a look. He lowers his voice.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Poor son-of-a-bitch.\n A guilty John cracks the window just a bit and Marley begins\n listing to starboard, leaning against John to catch a whiff\n of the outdoor smells. Marley crawls onto John's lap...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Oh, okay, you wanna sit up here...\n Marley now jams his nose into the small", "3 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm going to New York.\n Sebastian smiles. John doesn't move.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n The Gray Lady came courting last week.\n\n (THEN)\n Times,\n I'm talking about the New York\n\n BUDDY--\n\n JOHN\n I know who you're talking about.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You don't", "ICE - DAY\n\n As John hands Arnie his latest column...\n\n JOHN\n That's probably the last one about\n Marley for a while. But in about nine\n months, I'm gonna have a new subject,\n might be just as fun. Jenny's\n pregnant.\n\n ARNIE\n\n (FLAT)\n I'm very happy for you. Have you\n bought her a present?\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n ARNIE\n A", "a solid piece.\n\n JOHN\n Thanks. I'm almost done with yours.\n This idea of voting machines sounds\n\n REALLY EFFICIENT--\n\n JENNY\n Well, except on the other page I talk\n about what could happen--\n He goes back to reading. She sips her coffee.\n\n JOHN\n Oh, it continues...\n An awkward moment as he now searches for the new page, has to\n fold back the paper. No escaping the fact that ie article", " (LOOKS)\n \"If they save even one life--\"\n\n JOHN\n -\"it would be worth it. And with that,\n Janet Dickerson's mother's eyes filled\n with tears.\"\n\n (THEN)\n That one just felt exactly right,\n y'know?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah, no, it's good. What happened to\n the Desert Storm piece?\n\n JOHN\n That's it. The injured girl's dad", "had a chance to settle in. I\n hired a decorator, but she and I got\n into a thing and it got messy--\n\n JOHN\n Right.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Beer?\n\n JOHN\n I can't, I still got one more interview\n to do.\n\n A\n Sebastian opens the fridge revealing nothing but beer and\n hunk of Parmesan.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n What's the piece again?\n\n", " Can't, I'll be in L.A. Part of that\n drug piece I'm doing--\n\n JOHN\n Right. Another time then.\n John watches him move off, a secretary giving Sebastian a big\n smile as he passes. John sits there another moment, looks at\n his desk. A photo of him and Jenny. One of Marley with a flip\n flop in his mouth.\n John chuckles to himself, then deletes the column, starts\n typing a new one.\n\n 64 INT. ARN", "le?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah, among others. There was a\n Yorkie, a Dalmatian and a bichon frise\n that may never be right again.\n (sees the legal pad)\n What're you doing?\n\n JOHN\n Arnie gave me a column.\n\n JENNY\n You're kidding? Congratulations!\n\n JOHN\n Oh, yeah, it's a big honor. I get to\n write about zoning laws and yard", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A" ], [ ". John\n\n N\n reads about Ireland in the guide book. Jenny sees a woma\n with a child. She smiles. No tears.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n There are just a few things about\n Marley you need to know. He eats three\n times a day. If he looks starved, feed\n him again. Of course all this food has\n to go somewhere.\n\n 86\n\n 86 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - DAY", "\n Butterly looks at them sourly. So do the other guests.\n\n JENNY\n\n (TO JOHN)\n They heard us.\n\n JOHN\n No...\n He jumps as Mrs. Butterly slams the teapot on the table.\n\n MRS. BUTTERLY\n Tea?\n (looks him in the eye)\n I'm off to Mass.\n Mrs. Butterly leaves. John and Jenny look at the other\n guests. They smile bravely.", "ers.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n From there, they went on to work\n together at the school newspaper.\n\n SHOT OF JENNY IN THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE\n Shot of Jenny standing at the head of a table full of\n reporters.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Although, technically, they didn't work\n together so much as John worked for\n Jenny who was the editor of said\n paper...\n\n SHOT OF JEN", "\n\n Debby looks at the piles of orange poop everywhere.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Use the red shovel and the blue bucket.\n Watch your step. Don't worry about the\n color. He likes mangoes.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 61.\n\n 87\n\n 87 EXT. IRISH COUNTRYSIDE - DAY\n\n John and Jenny enjoy the scener", "of tall artificial flowers.\n\n JOHN'S VOICE\n Other than that, enjoy him! Thanks so\n much. Love, Jenny and John.\n\n 96\n\n 96 INT. IRISH BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Four walls, four different floral wallpapers. Twin beds.\n Above one, the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Above the other, the\n Sacred Heart of Mary. Crucifixes everywhere you look, and a\n HUGE framed picture of Pope John XXIII.", "50 years is a\n turn-on.\n They roll into each others' arms, the bed squeaking.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 64.\n\n 97 CONTINUED: 97\n\n JOHN\n Maybe she's deaf...\n\n 98 INT. IRISH B & B - DAY 98\n\n The next morning. John and Jenny, looking flushed and\n relaxed, and slightly abashed, come downstairs. Mrs.", "God\n watching. God, his mother...\n (indicating next door)\n .and apparently his best friend.\n\n 97\n\n 97 INT. IRISH BEDROOM - LATER\n\n They are in separate beds, staring at the crucifix.\n\n JOHN\n It's July, but I think I can see my\n breath.\n\n JENNY\n I can't feel my toes.\n John gets out of his bed and into Jenny's. Much SQUEAKING", "ILL - KITCHEN - DAY\n\n John helps Jenny through the kitchen door. Marley follows\n them, circles them wildly, then stops, puzzled, as he looks\n at them. Jenny goes into the living room; Marley follows\n her.\n\n JOHN\n You want some tea?\n\n (NO ANSWER)\n Hey, you know what I was thinking? We\n still have those tickets from your\n parents for the honeymoon in Ireland.\n We can finally do that.\n\n ", " John enters, carrying Patrick, supplies to fix the screen.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny?\n A wet Marley bounds into the house, heads for the back. John\n follows.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 76.\n\n 130\n\n 130 INT. BATHROOM - SAME\n\n\n THE\n Jenny is crouched on the floor when John appears in\n doorway.\n\n JOHN\n Hey. You alright?\n", "60\n\n Jenny's sitting on the bed waiting as John comes in.\n\n JOHN\n He's all packed up. Patrick will want\n to say good-bye, but Conor's too young\n\n TO--\n\n JENNY\n You can't do this.\n\n JOHN\n What do you mean? Three days ago, you\n were pretty clear--\n\n JENNY\n I know, but you can't do it. I won't\n let you", "Conor\n Richard Grogan.\"\n John puts his hand on Conor's shoulder as Conor drops in the\n letter into the grave.\n\n JENNY\n Patrick? Do you want to say anything?\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n\n 225\n\n 225 CONTINUED:\n\n PATRICK\n He knows.\n\n JENNY\n I'd like to give him something.\n Jenny reaches behind her neck", "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", "CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Happy Birthday.\n\n JENNY\n Oh my God... they're adorable...\n\n (THEN)\n Wait a minute, my birthday's a month\n from now.\n\n LORI\n That's okay, they can't leave for\n another three weeks anyway.\n\n JENNY\n John, we never even talked about this.\n\n JOHN\n You're right. Let", "T. BACKYARD - NIGHT 121\n\n John stands there letting Marley out. He looks back at the\n house, watches Jenny through the window as she sets Patrick\n down in his crib, shuts the light out.\n\n 122 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 122\n\n They're both working at their desks. Jenny looks up from her\n computer.\n\n JENNY\n I need to go in tomorrow for a few\n hours, see my editor. Think", "LVANIA HOUSE - DAY\n\n As the five Grogans walk across the-property. Colleen sits\n on John's shoulders. They reach a clearing where we see a\n small grave has been dug. John sets Colleen down...\n\n COLLEEN\n He's wrapped in his blanket...\n\n JOHN\n So he'll be warm.\n\n JENNY\n You guys want to read your letters?\n\n COLLEEN\n Mine is a picture. Of me and Marley.\n", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", "\n \n\n 95.\n \n\n 164\n\n 164 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - DAY\n\n John and the boys plant flowers in front of the house whilehead up like a\n Marley, chained to a post, lies in the shade,\n Sphynx, the baby, colleen in a portable bassinet beside him.\n Jenny comes outside with some sodas for the boys...\n\n JENNY\n John, telephone.\n\n CONOR\n Mom,", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", ", then stands up.\n\n JENNY\n Good-bye, Clearance Puppy.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n 226 EXT. GRAVE SITE - LATER 226\n\n John puts few big stones on top of the tamped-down earth. He\n sits on his haunches beside the grave, looks up at the house\n across the yard.\n\n JOHN'S POV - THE HOUSE\n All lit up. We see the kids sitting by the fire while Jenny\n" ], [ ", claps his hand and whistles...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Now Jenny appears in the front door.\n\n JENNY\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n He's not coming.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n John starts off into the dark...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 108.\n\n 190\n\n 190 CONTINUED:\n\n ", "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", "...\n\n JOHN\n Marley, heel!\n Marley takes off like a fighter jet, dragging John behind.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Correct him!\n John gives a mighty yank on the leash. Marley coughs,\n hesitates. John loosens the leash - and Marley explodes\n forward again. John yanks, Marley stops, John releases,\n Marley explodes forward.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "put it. around Marley's\n neck. Marley, liking its shiny jingling, tries to eat it.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 36.\n\n 57 CONTINUED: 57\n Much tussling, and John finally gets it around Marley's neck -\n but Marley still manages to grab it in his teeth.\n\n JOHN\n He likes it.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n That's", "all I\n demonstrate a simple walk?\n\n JOHN\n Be my guest.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Class? Even an unruly dog wants to\n obey his leader. Marley? Heel.\n And she steps off confidently - but Marley is a bit more\n confident than she is. He lunges, she pulls, he falls back\n on his hind legs, then barrels up and lurches forward.\n Ms. Kornblut half-stumbles, half rockets across the park.\n ", "\n\n 94\n\n 94 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Debby has run out of the bathroom, a towel hastily wrapped\n around her. Marley chases her. He leaps - and returns to\n earth with the towel in his mouth. Debby SCREAMS.\n\n 95\n\n 95 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Debby is standing on a coffee table, nude, swatting at an\n unseen Marley with a bunch", "She manages to turn Marley around, and the whole process\n begins again as they make their way back to the line. Her\n face is flushed with embarrassment, anger, and exertion, but\n Marley, jowls frothing, is having a ball. It's like a\n walking tug-of-war.\n With difficulty, Ms. Kornblut manages to return Marley to\n John, but not before, as a coup-de-grace, he starts humping\n her leg enthusiastically. She struggles, he kn", "in\n frustration as Marley HOWLS at the moon.\n\n 90\n\n 90 EXT. IRISH TOWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny stop at a bed-and-breakfast for the night.\n It's raining softly.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Thunderstorms are his weak point.\n Well, one of his weak points. You can\n give him sedatives if you think a storm\n is arriving. He doesn't like them, so\n push them down into", ", like a dog with a sled, towards\n the now-terrified small dogs. He is chugging forward with\n every ounce of rippling muscle he has.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Marley!\n John hurries after the dog; Jenny stays with the boys.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 94.\n\n 162 CONTINUED: 162\n As Marley-", "Exactly.\n He starts sliding down the hill. Marley runs for him as he\n builds up speed...\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 104.\n\n 181 CONTINUED: 181\n But Marley jumps onto John's lap as they get going...\n\n ON THE TOBOGGAN\n Flying down the hill. Marley is much heavier than the kids,\n and they", "ley trots outside.\n\n 189\n\n 189 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John comes back into the room a moment...\n\n JOHN\n It's pouring out there...\n He grabs his slicker and heads back out...\n\n 190\n\n 190 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John returns, steps outside, but Marley is nowhere to be\n seen. John", "with-table approaches the small dogs, they break\n free of their leashes and run. Several innocent bystanders\n are knocked off their feet.\n There's a florist kiosk in the center of the plaza; Marley-\n and-table take out most of the merchandise.\n Security guards look around wildly. It's pandemonium, but\n Marley is in heaven. He makes a circuit of the entire plaz a,\n one poor poodle runs for her life.\n Finally, back where Marley started,", "Marley. You flunked\n obedience school.\n\n JENNY\n You know, John, there is something else\n we can do--\n\n JOHN\n (looks at her)\n No, no, I'm not doing that to him.\n\n JENNY\n It's painless. And he'll be a lot more\n comfortable. It'll calm him down.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, you know why he'll be calmer?\n Because he'", ". Marley goes through his nighttime\n\n ROUTINE:\n He chews through a sock. He drinks out of the toilet. He\n works on chewing through the plastic dog food tub. Another\n night and he'll be in. He chases a fly.\n Finally he goes to his bed on the floor of the bedroom. He\n settles himself down to sleep. He yawns, he scratches, he\n closes his eyes. He snores. And then -\n He wakes up, suddenly alert. He looks over at", "09 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 109\n\n John opens the front door, drags Marley in. John gives him a\n\n GIANT BONE-SHAPED CHEW TOY...\n\n JOHN\n Okay. Here... Stay. Be good. Please,\n God. No storms. Stay.\n\n 110 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 110\n\n The chew toy now almost completely gone. Marley", " I'm very strong-willed.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n And where is your animal?\n\n JOHN\n He's over there. With my wife. He was\n a little excited. He usually needs a\n little time to calm down.\n Ms. Kornblut looks at Jenny as she struggles up with Marley.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n I see. He calls the shots. Which of\n you will be the trainer?\n\n JENNY\n we thought we", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "left.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Now, when you give the heel command,\n step off with your left foot - I don't\n want to see any right foot first\n steppers - and walk. If your dog gets\n ahead, administer a correction by\n forcefully bring your left hand down\n and towards the right, and he'll\n respond. Shall we? One, two, three -\n now!\n Just as the dogs and owners prepare to step off, Marley\n lurches ahead of the pack", "'D)\n Okay.\n\n 206\n\n 206 INT. UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n Jenny is at the top of the stairs.\n\n JENNY\n Marley?\n (turns to John)\n Have you seen him?\n\n JOHN\n He's not up here.\n\n 207\n\n 207 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n A\n John and Jenny find Marley lying peacefully in front of" ], [ ". Marley wants to greet all\n the Boca mini-dogs as they are being walked or carried by\n their owners. Jenny leans up against John.\n\n JOHN\n I made reservations at Sunny's.\n Thought we could all sit outside.\n\n JENNY\n Sounds perfect.\n (takes his arm)\n Thank you.\n\n 162 EXT. SIDEWALK CAPE - DAY 162\n\n They are seated at an outside table, shaded by a", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "with-table approaches the small dogs, they break\n free of their leashes and run. Several innocent bystanders\n are knocked off their feet.\n There's a florist kiosk in the center of the plaza; Marley-\n and-table take out most of the merchandise.\n Security guards look around wildly. It's pandemonium, but\n Marley is in heaven. He makes a circuit of the entire plaz a,\n one poor poodle runs for her life.\n Finally, back where Marley started,", "\n \n\n 95.\n \n\n 164\n\n 164 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - DAY\n\n John and the boys plant flowers in front of the house whilehead up like a\n Marley, chained to a post, lies in the shade,\n Sphynx, the baby, colleen in a portable bassinet beside him.\n Jenny comes outside with some sodas for the boys...\n\n JENNY\n John, telephone.\n\n CONOR\n Mom,", " Marley!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 75.\n\n 128 INT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - DAY 128\n\n A REALTOR is showing a COUPLE around the large, empty, new\n house. She points out the designer kitchen that looks out\n onto the patio and pool, a huge yellow lab now leaping in.\n A moment later, we see John, clutching Patrick, enter the\n backyard, try to haul Marley out of the", "hoses through Marley's huge orange iridescent poops.\n\n JOHN\n Man, you gotta lay off the mangoes.\n\n (A SIGH)\n You know, years ago, when I pictured my\n life, somehow standing in my backyard\n hosing down dog crap in search of my\n bride's swallowed and recycled ass-\n kissing gift just didn't spring to\n mind.\n\n (SUDDENLY EXCITED)\n Aha! Jackpot!\n\n", ". Marley goes through his nighttime\n\n ROUTINE:\n He chews through a sock. He drinks out of the toilet. He\n works on chewing through the plastic dog food tub. Another\n night and he'll be in. He chases a fly.\n Finally he goes to his bed on the floor of the bedroom. He\n settles himself down to sleep. He yawns, he scratches, he\n closes his eyes. He snores. And then -\n He wakes up, suddenly alert. He looks over at", "large round\n umbrella. John hooks Marley's leash to two of the table legs\n as a waiter brings drinks. Jenny holds up her beer.\n\n JENNY\n To a perfect day with my boys.\n\n BEHIND THEM\n A blonde Boca Trophy wife, with a poodle on a jeweled leash,\n shrieks excitedly as she meets up with another woman, same\n type, with another small fluffy'dog. The little dogs yip.\n CAMERA BOO", "put it. around Marley's\n neck. Marley, liking its shiny jingling, tries to eat it.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 36.\n\n 57 CONTINUED: 57\n Much tussling, and John finally gets it around Marley's neck -\n but Marley still manages to grab it in his teeth.\n\n JOHN\n He likes it.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n That's", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", "his patio watching.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Hi, Tom-- Sorry...\n\n JENNY\n Happy Thanksgiving...\n Marley goes through a hedge and out onto...\n\n 51 EXT. STREET - DAY 51\n\n Where Marley emerges into FRAME a FULL GROWN DOG, rapidly\n pulling Jenny by the leash along the intercoastal waterway.\n We track with him until a WOMAN WALKING A POODLE IS", "Well, as you know, Sebastian and I were\n in college together, and he was always\n talking about South Florida... mostly\n about the women of South Florida, but\n anyway, after my wife and I got married\n we thought it might be nice to come\n\n DOWN HERE--\n\n ARNIE\n For the women?\n\n JOHN\n Uh, no-- for the... the... uh...\n\n ARNIE\n For the work?\n\n JOHN\n Yes. That", "thing.\n\n 113 OMITTED 113- \n\n 114 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 114 \n\n\n \n As the sun now streams in through the front windows down onto \n Marley, who is sound asleep. We hear A CAR DOOR CLOSE and he\n raises his head...\n A moment later, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS and John comes in and\n Marley greets him, jumps up on his chest.\n", "ley trots outside.\n\n 189\n\n 189 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John comes back into the room a moment...\n\n JOHN\n It's pouring out there...\n He grabs his slicker and heads back out...\n\n 190\n\n 190 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John returns, steps outside, but Marley is nowhere to be\n seen. John", "the terrified toy poodle\n leaps into Jenny's arms. Marley tries to brake -\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n - and suddenly, he is jerked back. John has tackled the\n table Marley's dragging. Marley YELPS and lands on his bac k,\n then quickly rights himself, tail wagging, the happiest dog\n in the world.\n Everyone surrounding them on the plaza has frozen silent.\n They all stare at Marley and the Grogans. The p", "seem happy for me.\n\n JOHN\n I am. I'm just in shock. I mean, I'm\n in Florida because of you. Woodward\n and Bernstein. Remember? That was the\n idea.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Yeah, that was the idea before you\n decided to be the Andy Rooney of South\n Florida.\n\n JOHN\n I didn't decide to be anything--\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Exactly.\n Boom. That hur", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3" ], [ ". You can't give away Marley.\n\n JOHN\n Okay, wait. I'm lost. You told me you\n didn't want him around. What's\n happened?\n\n JENNY\n The fact that you would have done\n something like that, for me, that you\n love me that much...\n\n (MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 92.\n \n\n 160\n\n 1", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his", "60 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n well, that blows me away. And we're\n not doing this. It was wrong of me to\n ask.\n He comes over and sits down beside her.\n\n JOHN\n\n G\n Maybe not, maybe Marley is one thin\n too many.\n\n JENNY\n I got overwhelmed, John. I mean, be.\n one tells you how hard it's gonna\n\n JOHN\n", "\n 67.\n\n 104\n\n 104 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Jenny has finished dressing. Suddenly she yelps in pain,\n doubles over. John takes her in his arms.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay.\n\n JENNY\n Ow!\n Suddenly, A GROWL. They turn to see Marley glaring at John.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay. I'm not hurting her.\n Jenny MO", "Marley. You flunked\n obedience school.\n\n JENNY\n You know, John, there is something else\n we can do--\n\n JOHN\n (looks at her)\n No, no, I'm not doing that to him.\n\n JENNY\n It's painless. And he'll be a lot more\n comfortable. It'll calm him down.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, you know why he'll be calmer?\n Because he'", ", wondering where Marley is...\n\n 126 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - LATER 126\n\n A crime scene. Jenny, clutching the baby, stands on the porch\n watching as an AMBULANCE pulls away. John, now in shorts and\n a T-shirt, comes jogging up the walk.\n\n JOHN\n I can't find him anywhere.\n\n JENNY\n Maybe we should get in the car, drive\n around.\n\n JO", "\n\n JENNY\n Where'd it go? It was right here.\n\n JOHN\n You just put it down. It can't have\n\n JUST DISAPPEARED--\n And then he stops. Looks off. So does Jenny...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 54.\n \n\n 76\n\n 76 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Oh God...\n Marley stands a", "Marley take care of her. No\n words, just being there. A lesson here. Her head down,\n Jenny raises one arm up towards John and John goes to the\n couch and wraps his arms around both of them. We then...\n\n FADE OUT.\n\n DEBBY (V.O.)\n Oh. He's... big.\n\n 83 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - LIVING ROOM - DAY 83\n\n With difficulty, John holds back Marley to protect DEBBY ---", "few feet away, looking strangely gleeful. A\n glint of Gold in the moonlight dangles from his mouth. They\n both get up, start to move towards him...\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Hey, boy. Come here. Look what I got\n for you.\n\n JOHN\n We don't want any trouble...\n\n JENNY\n Yeah, here's a little something--\n (imaginary) treat. Marley\n She reaches into her pocket for an moves\n ", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 107\n\n Jenny is tottering down the walk as John pulls out of the\n garage, gets her into the passenger seat.\n\n 108 INT. CAR - NIGHT (STATIONARY) 108\n\n\n JOHN\n Ready?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah. You?\n Marley barks from the back seat. They both turn and look at\n him. What's he doing here?\n\n 1", "\n Jenny'll call her...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 73.\n\n 125\n\n 125 CONTINUED:\n Marley sniffs at the ground, growling more and more\n intensely. We hear SHOUTING, \"He went that way\" as several\n neighbors take off running. Marley lifts his head and he,\n too, bolts into the night---\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley!", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", "alright. I'll\n just be different. Maybe e\n it'll, b better, nobody poking your\n yanking your tail. Who knows? Could\n be better.\n\n 159 INT. KITCHEN - SAME 159\n\n Jenny's been watching. She stands there thoughtfully as John\n puts the frisbee in the box and resumes the hunt for the rest\n of Marley's stuff, the dog following him.\n\n 160 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 1", ", like a dog with a sled, towards\n the now-terrified small dogs. He is chugging forward with\n every ounce of rippling muscle he has.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Marley!\n John hurries after the dog; Jenny stays with the boys.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 94.\n\n 162 CONTINUED: 162\n As Marley-", "s up, sees Jenny now standing in the doorway, tying\n her robe, looking at him anxiously.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n He's coming home.\n\n 201\n\n 201 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up. He gets out of the SUV, walks around and\n opens the back window and now Marley sits up into view.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "149\n\n As Jenny comes in, Marley following and sits down heavily on\n the bed. She looks at Marley as he lays down beside the bed.\n\n JENNY\n Stay.\n She now lays down and closes her eyes. A moment of peace.\n And then, somewhere in the distance we hear a faint BEEP BEEP\n BEEP as some truck backs up. Marley lifts his head, perks up\n his ears and listens. Please don't bark, dog. Please don't\n", " \n\n \n\n \n 23.\n\n 28\n\n 28 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Marley. I like that...\n\n 29 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 29\n\n John's on the phone, talking to Jenny as he follows Marley\n around the room, trying to keep shoes and socks and cords out\n of his mouth...\n\n JOHN\n Are you sure? Because it can be\n" ], [ ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "'D)\n Okay.\n\n 206\n\n 206 INT. UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n Jenny is at the top of the stairs.\n\n JENNY\n Marley?\n (turns to John)\n Have you seen him?\n\n JOHN\n He's not up here.\n\n 207\n\n 207 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n A\n John and Jenny find Marley lying peacefully in front of", "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", "illuminated by the TV, as he watches SILENT IMAGES from\n Grogan family home videos:\n TWO-YEAR-OLD PATRICK rides on Marley's back through the house\n at 345 Churchill, young Marley's tail knocking over\n everything within range, toddler and dog both joyous.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 122.\n\n 224\n\n 224 INT. CLINIC - NIGHT\n\n As", ", claps his hand and whistles...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Now Jenny appears in the front door.\n\n JENNY\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n He's not coming.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n John starts off into the dark...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 108.\n\n 190\n\n 190 CONTINUED:\n\n ", "es with the boys at the foot of the. steps,\n Marley all over them, licking whatever faces he can get.\n Colleen comes out the front door, stands at the top of the\n steps...\n\n COLLEEN\n Mommy says dinner and take off your\n shoes.\n\n JOHN\n Alright... c'mon guys...\n They all get up, start up the steps. Marley follows, takes\n one step when his hind legs buckle. John looks back at him.\n\n\n\n \n\n", "37\n\n John has his head buried under the pillows AS THE WAILING AND\n KEENING GO ON. AND ON. AND ON. Finally, John can't take it\n anymore. He sits up, pulls earplugs out of his ears.\n\n 38\n\n 38 INT. GARAGE - NIGHT\n\n As the light comes on and Marley's head appears over the top\n of the box. John sighs, comes over and scoops him up...\n\n 39 INT. 345 CH", ". Marley goes through his nighttime\n\n ROUTINE:\n He chews through a sock. He drinks out of the toilet. He\n works on chewing through the plastic dog food tub. Another\n night and he'll be in. He chases a fly.\n Finally he goes to his bed on the floor of the bedroom. He\n settles himself down to sleep. He yawns, he scratches, he\n closes his eyes. He snores. And then -\n He wakes up, suddenly alert. He looks over at", "wince at once...\n\n CONOR\n Marley!\n They all begin waving their hands in front of their faces.\n\n JENNY\n I think someone needs to go out.\n\n JOHN\n\n (GETS UP)\n Come on, boy...\n Marley gets to his feet, follows John to the front door.\n\n 188\n\n 188 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Rain falls as John opens the door and Mar", "Marley take care of her. No\n words, just being there. A lesson here. Her head down,\n Jenny raises one arm up towards John and John goes to the\n couch and wraps his arms around both of them. We then...\n\n FADE OUT.\n\n DEBBY (V.O.)\n Oh. He's... big.\n\n 83 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - LIVING ROOM - DAY 83\n\n With difficulty, John holds back Marley to protect DEBBY ---", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in.", "edge of the property.\n Marley lies on the ground, in a hollow, hidden from view from\n the hill above. His belly is swollen, his face drawn. It's\n clear he's very ill.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay, boy, it's okay...\n\n 197\n\n 197 INT. VETERINARY TREATMENT ROOM - NIGHT\n\n John stands with DR. PLATT, a female vet. Marley lies on the\n floor in a dog bed,", "09 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 109\n\n John opens the front door, drags Marley in. John gives him a\n\n GIANT BONE-SHAPED CHEW TOY...\n\n JOHN\n Okay. Here... Stay. Be good. Please,\n God. No storms. Stay.\n\n 110 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 110\n\n The chew toy now almost completely gone. Marley", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "NIGHT 183\n From the low angle of the stairs, Patrick lies on his side,\n sleeping. And then we see Marley's head rise and reveal\n itself as Marley lifts it to look at John standing there.\n He'd been laying there on the bed behind Patrick. He looks\n at John, knows he's not supposed to be there, but...\n\n JOHN\n That's alright, pal. I won't tell.\n\n (THEN)\n We kicked ass down that hill, didn", ")\n He's waiting for you.\n\n 46 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DRIVEWAY - DAY 46\n\n John and Jenny get out of the car. We hear WHIMPERING in the\n garage.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n She takes off for the side door of the garage.\n\n 47 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - GARAGE - DAY 47\n\n They open the door and freeze.\n\n JENNY\n", "\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's go for a walk.\n\n 205\n\n 205 EXT. HILL - DAY\n\n As John walks Marley off leash up a hill. At one point, John\n has to stop and wait for Marley to catch up.\n\n JOHN\n Come on, boy, just a little further to\n the top...\n Marley comes up, panting, eyes wet and happy. John looks at\n him, can see how tired he is", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "\n\n JENNY\n Where'd it go? It was right here.\n\n JOHN\n You just put it down. It can't have\n\n JUST DISAPPEARED--\n And then he stops. Looks off. So does Jenny...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 54.\n \n\n 76\n\n 76 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Oh God...\n Marley stands a" ], [ "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", ". John\n\n N\n reads about Ireland in the guide book. Jenny sees a woma\n with a child. She smiles. No tears.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n There are just a few things about\n Marley you need to know. He eats three\n times a day. If he looks starved, feed\n him again. Of course all this food has\n to go somewhere.\n\n 86\n\n 86 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - DAY", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "3 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 133\n\n A MOVING VAN is parked out front. Marley runs back and forth\n as the MOVERS load up the truck, John and and a very pregnant\n Jenny supervising. John sees LISA, the girl next door, as she\n comes out of her house. She walks over to him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, Lisa.\n\n LISA\n Hi.\n\n (THEN)\n You", "'t happen\n the whole time. Just maybe when you\n come home.\n (handing her a binder)\n This is everything you need to know.\n\n 84\n\n 84 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DAY\n\n John and Jenny lug their suitcases across the front lawn to\n the car, Marley running around them. Debby's glancing\n through the binder.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Debby. Welcome to our home! Marley is\n", "He hangs up, goes to the window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna get in the car, maybe drive\n\n OVER TO--\n (he sees something)\n Jenny.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Shooting Draft 109.\n\n MARLEY & ME\n\n 196\n\n 196 EXT. FRONT LAWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny run to'a tree at the", "T. BACKYARD - NIGHT 121\n\n John stands there letting Marley out. He looks back at the\n house, watches Jenny through the window as she sets Patrick\n down in his crib, shuts the light out.\n\n 122 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 122\n\n They're both working at their desks. Jenny looks up from her\n computer.\n\n JENNY\n I need to go in tomorrow for a few\n hours, see my editor. Think", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his", "\n JOHN\n Hey, boy... let's go outside...\n\n 115 EXT. BACKYARD - MORNING 115\n\n As Marley relieves himself, John yawning in the b.g.\n\n 116 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING 116\n\n As Jenny unpacks her suitcase. Marley bounds into the room\n and greets her.\n\n JENNY\n Hello, Marley...\n She crouches down, gives him", "EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 107\n\n Jenny is tottering down the walk as John pulls out of the\n garage, gets her into the passenger seat.\n\n 108 INT. CAR - NIGHT (STATIONARY) 108\n\n\n JOHN\n Ready?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah. You?\n Marley barks from the back seat. They both turn and look at\n him. What's he doing here?\n\n 1", " John enters, carrying Patrick, supplies to fix the screen.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny?\n A wet Marley bounds into the house, heads for the back. John\n follows.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 76.\n\n 130\n\n 130 INT. BATHROOM - SAME\n\n\n THE\n Jenny is crouched on the floor when John appears in\n doorway.\n\n JOHN\n Hey. You alright?\n", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", ", then stands up.\n\n JENNY\n Good-bye, Clearance Puppy.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n 226 EXT. GRAVE SITE - LATER 226\n\n John puts few big stones on top of the tamped-down earth. He\n sits on his haunches beside the grave, looks up at the house\n across the yard.\n\n JOHN'S POV - THE HOUSE\n All lit up. We see the kids sitting by the fire while Jenny\n", ", wondering where Marley is...\n\n 126 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - LATER 126\n\n A crime scene. Jenny, clutching the baby, stands on the porch\n watching as an AMBULANCE pulls away. John, now in shorts and\n a T-shirt, comes jogging up the walk.\n\n JOHN\n I can't find him anywhere.\n\n JENNY\n Maybe we should get in the car, drive\n around.\n\n JO", "\n Butterly looks at them sourly. So do the other guests.\n\n JENNY\n\n (TO JOHN)\n They heard us.\n\n JOHN\n No...\n He jumps as Mrs. Butterly slams the teapot on the table.\n\n MRS. BUTTERLY\n Tea?\n (looks him in the eye)\n I'm off to Mass.\n Mrs. Butterly leaves. John and Jenny look at the other\n guests. They smile bravely.", "you to know that.\n\n JOHN\n\n I'M SORRY--\n\n JENNY\n It's not your fault. It's just\n something I have to figure out. But\n Marley going, that won't fix anything.\n\n JOHN\n (nods, then)\n Okay.\n\n JENNY\n\n (BEAT)\n Okay.\n She kisses him on the cheek, then gets up and goes into the\n bathroom. He sits", "CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 102\n\n A THUNDERSTORM outside. John sits at his desk, tries to work\n while Marley walks in circles. John looks at him...\n\n JOHN\n It's only thunder...\n John goes back to work. We hear more THUNDER, and Marley\n starts howling, knocks over a floor lamp... John looks off\n towards the bedroom...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Jenny?! Can you help me out here? I\n ", "PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - DAY\n\n White everywhere. The family and Marley trudge into the\n snow, unused to their boots and snowsuits. Marley jumps\n around, barks like he's a puppy again.\n\n 181\n\n 181 EXT. HILL - DAY\n\n The kids slide down the hill in a toboggan. John is at the\n bottom to catch them. Up at the house, Jenny calls...\n\n JENNY\n Okay, time for" ], [ "You really sure about this? I mean, a\n puppy's a lot of work.\n\n JOHN\n How hard could it be?\n We hear A COMMOTION is coming from the woods, something\n crashing through the brush, breathing heavily. They both\n freeze as the sound comes their way.\n\n JENNY\n What's that?\n Just then they are nearly knocked off their feet by a huge,\n rampaging Labrador, soaking wet, covered with mud and burrs.\n It circles them", ", though. Not just for him. I\n tell that to everyone.\n\n (QUICKLY)\n You want help getting him in the car?\n\n JOHN\n No, that's okay, I'll just...\n John opens the door, indicates that Marley should jump in.\n Instead, the puppy runs around the car, barking, jumping up\n on the bumpers. John finally catches him, lifts him up, puts\n him on the front passenger seat atop some towels.\n\n JOH", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "\n 19, glasses, bookish, the house sitter -- from his affection.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. Close to a hundred pounds.\n (re: the leash struggle)\n He just wants to say hi. He won't hurt\n you. Just stand still and be calm.\n You're a dog person, right?\n\n DEBBY\n well, actually -\n\n JOHN\n - Ready?\n\n DEBBY\n okay?\n John releases Marley who springs", " And that mutt of yours hasn't shut up\n since you left.\n John looks towards the garage where we hear WHIMPERING.\n\n 34 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - GARAGE - NIGHT 34\n\n The door opens and the puppy gets excited--\n\n JOHN\n No no... I just wanted you to know I'm\n back.\n The puppy whimpers and he goes over to him, reaches into the\n box and pets him...\n\n JO", "room and John looks at the dog.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 86.\n\n 145\n\n 145 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n You just had to eat the book? What,\n have you got some kind of death wish?\n I'm telling you, you better chill, or\n she'll kill you. Right after she kills\n me.\n\n 146\n\n 146 EXT. GRO", "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's go for a walk.\n\n 205\n\n 205 EXT. HILL - DAY\n\n As John walks Marley off leash up a hill. At one point, John\n has to stop and wait for Marley to catch up.\n\n JOHN\n Come on, boy, just a little further to\n the top...\n Marley comes up, panting, eyes wet and happy. John looks at\n him, can see how tired he is", " it up. This one reads \"E F D TO GOOD HOME.\"\n comes up to John.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You giving up the dog? i thought yo u\n loved that thing.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny wants him out.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n That's harsh, man.\n\n JOHN\n I don't know what else to do. She's\n really unhappy. Maybe the dog is just\n one too many things.\n\n SEBA", "\n John comes into the kitchen - without Marley.\n him with concern... he start out of the room.\n\n JOHN\n He'll show up.\n\n 194\n\n 194 INT. UPSTAIRS - BOYS BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n John is tucking the boys in.\n\n JOHN\n He's just out exploring. You know how\n much he likes the woods.\n\n PATRICK\n Bobby says dogs, when they're", "Then he goes around, squats down so he's on Marley's\n level. He looks into Marley's eyes.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Listen, you know all that stuff we\n always said about you? What a total\n pain you are? The world's worst dog?\n Well, don't you believe it. Don't\n believe it for a minute. You loved us,\n every day, no matter what. And that's\n a pretty amazing thing.\n (he leans in", "30\n\n John, dressed to go out, is setting down Marley in his wooden\n box on the garage floor.\n\n JOHN\n I'll see you in the morning, okay?\n Marley looks at him with a heartbreaking expression. John\n hesitates.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Aw, come on, don't. You'll be fine,\n alright. And tomorrow, we're gonna\n tear it up. I'm thinking kibble, park,\n che", "weeks ago, bounds over to him. A harried Lori\n follows, a rope leash and instruction. sheet in hand.\n\n JOHN\n Whoa! He got big... This is the right\n one, right?\n\n LORI\n You should see him pack away the puppy\n chow.\n\n JOHN\n So, what if I run into any problems?\n\n LORI\n\n (BACKING AWAY)\n Oh. Sure, call me. All sales are\n final", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in.", "CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 102\n\n A THUNDERSTORM outside. John sits at his desk, tries to work\n while Marley walks in circles. John looks at him...\n\n JOHN\n It's only thunder...\n John goes back to work. We hear more THUNDER, and Marley\n starts howling, knocks over a floor lamp... John looks off\n towards the bedroom...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Jenny?! Can you help me out here? I\n ", "John vacuums, struggles to empty the bag, puts a broken vase\n in the trash, does the dishes, etc. Marley follows him, tail\n wreaking havoc, knocking over everything that isn't nailed\n down. John picks up the HUGE CHEW TOY he'd just bought and\n examines it as Marley runs into the bathroom...\n\n JOHN\n Huh.\n It's already completely gnawed up. John looks at Marley who\n emerges dragging a roll of toilet", "\n JOHN\n Hey, boy... let's go outside...\n\n 115 EXT. BACKYARD - MORNING 115\n\n As Marley relieves himself, John yawning in the b.g.\n\n 116 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING 116\n\n As Jenny unpacks her suitcase. Marley bounds into the room\n and greets her.\n\n JENNY\n Hello, Marley...\n She crouches down, gives him", "\"! All of the puppies scatter. Lily barks.\n But Clearance Puppy just leaps onto his shoes, his tail\n wagging.\n\n LORI (CONT'D)\n Well, that's your guy.\n John scoops him up. Clearance Puppy licks his face. John\n hands him to Jenny. She lets him lick her face...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 19.\n\n 20 CONTINUED:", "John pulls up in the driveway and opens the\n jumps out.\n\n JOHN\n This is our house...\n The dog immediately pees on the ground.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And now it's yours.\n\n 26\n\n 26 INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n As John crouches down, shows him his bowls...\n\n JOHN\n This one's water. This one's food.\n\n\n\n \n\n " ], [ "You really sure about this? I mean, a\n puppy's a lot of work.\n\n JOHN\n How hard could it be?\n We hear A COMMOTION is coming from the woods, something\n crashing through the brush, breathing heavily. They both\n freeze as the sound comes their way.\n\n JENNY\n What's that?\n Just then they are nearly knocked off their feet by a huge,\n rampaging Labrador, soaking wet, covered with mud and burrs.\n It circles them", "\n JOHN\n Hey, boy... let's go outside...\n\n 115 EXT. BACKYARD - MORNING 115\n\n As Marley relieves himself, John yawning in the b.g.\n\n 116 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING 116\n\n As Jenny unpacks her suitcase. Marley bounds into the room\n and greets her.\n\n JENNY\n Hello, Marley...\n She crouches down, gives him", "\"! All of the puppies scatter. Lily barks.\n But Clearance Puppy just leaps onto his shoes, his tail\n wagging.\n\n LORI (CONT'D)\n Well, that's your guy.\n John scoops him up. Clearance Puppy licks his face. John\n hands him to Jenny. She lets him lick her face...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 19.\n\n 20 CONTINUED:", "into the duffle...\n\n JOHN\n So uh, what kind of puppy?\n Sebastian looks up at him.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n To, y'know, cut the wire.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Get her a lab. They're supposed to be\n just like little kids. But easier to\n train.\n\n 19\n\n 19 EXT. DOG BREEDER'S HOUSE - MORNING\n\n As John and Jenny get", "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", " it up. This one reads \"E F D TO GOOD HOME.\"\n comes up to John.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You giving up the dog? i thought yo u\n loved that thing.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny wants him out.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n That's harsh, man.\n\n JOHN\n I don't know what else to do. She's\n really unhappy. Maybe the dog is just\n one too many things.\n\n SEBA", "54 INT. KITCHEN - DAY\n\n John sits at the table scribbling on a legal pad. He tears\n off the sheet and crumples it up, throws it across the room.\n Marley bounds into the room, Jenny behind him, sweating.\n\n JENNY\n I think he dislocated my shoulder. He\n doesn't heel-- hell, he doesn't even\n walk, he sprints, and I had to pull him\n off three dogs...\n\n JOHN\n Pood", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his", "(3) 20\n\n JENNY\n I would've picked you anyway--\n\n JOHN\n Meant to be.\n He watches her cuddle the puppy and knows he's done the right\n thing.\n\n 21 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE -- DAY 21\n\n Lori waves goodbye, check in her hand, as John and Jenny walk\n to the car. Jenny carries a Polaroid of Clearance Puppy.\n\n JENNY\n ", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "\n As Jenny pushes John back onto the bed, starts kissing\n Things getting hot and heavy quickly. As they kiss...\n\n JENNY\n Honey?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah...\n\n JENNY\n Did you eat some kibble?\n\n JOHN\n What?\n And now they part and we see MARLEY'S HUGE FACE RESTING ON\n THE SIDE OF THE BED, watching, panting up a storm.\n\n JOHN", " Oh my God.\n It's a mess. It's almost incredible that it's all due to a\n single puppy. The box is in shreds; so are the blankets. A\n puddle of urine on the floor. A large piece of dry wall has\n been chewed off near the big garage door. The garbage cans\n are overturned. Marley is whimpering in the corner.\n\n JOHN\n Wow. Okay, this is not how I left it.\n\n JENNY\n", "CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 102\n\n A THUNDERSTORM outside. John sits at his desk, tries to work\n while Marley walks in circles. John looks at him...\n\n JOHN\n It's only thunder...\n John goes back to work. We hear more THUNDER, and Marley\n starts howling, knocks over a floor lamp... John looks off\n towards the bedroom...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Jenny?! Can you help me out here? I\n ", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", " JOHN\n He can't be too far...\n\n 191\n\n 191 EXT. DIRT ROAD - NIGHT\n\n As John trudges through the rain looking for the dog.\n\n 192\n\n 192 EXT. BARNS - NIGHT\n\n Jenny looks in the barn, the garage...\n\n 193\n\n 193 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n She looks at", "ONKING BEHIND THEM.\n\n JOHN\n Uh, little help here...\n John's stuck. He can't pull the dog back in the window and he\n can't open the door. He can't let go as angry drivers behind\n them are now starting to swerve around them. John hangs on\n for dear life...\n\n JENNY\n I got him!\n\n 62\n\n 62 EXT. BRIDGE - SAME\n\n As Jenny puts on the flash", "\n Another bit of THUNDER and the puppy whimpers louder.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Does thunder scare you, Mister? Hm?\n He licks her face, snuggles into her. She gives him the\n Pluto stuffed animal. She hugs him...\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Look at us.\n She looks up at John and smiles. He returns the smile.\n Mission accomplished.\n\n 48 INT. 345 CHURCHILL RO", "EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 107\n\n Jenny is tottering down the walk as John pulls out of the\n garage, gets her into the passenger seat.\n\n 108 INT. CAR - NIGHT (STATIONARY) 108\n\n\n JOHN\n Ready?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah. You?\n Marley barks from the back seat. They both turn and look at\n him. What's he doing here?\n\n 1", "(snapping his fingers at the\n dog, shaking his head \"no\")\n He's very cute. Just like a little kid\n only furrier.\n\n JENNY\n Put the phone by his ear...\n John chases after the dog who burrows under the couch, his\n tail sticking out so that John can't get him...\n\n JOHN\n Uh, okay, he's listening.\n John just holds the phone awkwardly as Jenny coos baby talk.\n\n JENNY\n (into" ], [ ", claps his hand and whistles...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Now Jenny appears in the front door.\n\n JENNY\n What's wrong?\n\n JOHN\n He's not coming.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n John starts off into the dark...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 108.\n\n 190\n\n 190 CONTINUED:\n\n ", "'t\n we?\n John smiles at him and continues up to bed.\n\n 184 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON 184\n\n Early Spring. The snow has melted. Marley, still as a\n statue, sits at the side of the road, waiting. Suddenly, he\n stands up and starts to wag his tail.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 105.\n\n 184\n\n 184 CONT", ":\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley? Hey, boy.\n Marley looks up briefly as if he heard something, but then\n returns to eating. John is right behind him. John reaches\n out and touches Marley, and Marley jumps, totally guilty.\n Then he turns and greets John.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, boy? You didn't\n hear me? Huh?\n He looks at the dog a moment, thoughtful, then...\n", "thing.\n\n 113 OMITTED 113- \n\n 114 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - MORNING 114 \n\n\n \n As the sun now streams in through the front windows down onto \n Marley, who is sound asleep. We hear A CAR DOOR CLOSE and he\n raises his head...\n A moment later, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS and John comes in and\n Marley greets him, jumps up on his chest.\n", "'D)\n Okay.\n\n 206\n\n 206 INT. UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n Jenny is at the top of the stairs.\n\n JENNY\n Marley?\n (turns to John)\n Have you seen him?\n\n JOHN\n He's not up here.\n\n 207\n\n 207 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n A\n John and Jenny find Marley lying peacefully in front of", "ley trots outside.\n\n 189\n\n 189 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John comes back into the room a moment...\n\n JOHN\n It's pouring out there...\n He grabs his slicker and heads back out...\n\n 190\n\n 190 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - SAME\n\n As John returns, steps outside, but Marley is nowhere to be\n seen. John", "pile out of the car, look at the house. Marley takes off\n running...\n\n JOHN\n Marley!\n Marley jumps into a pile of leaves, scatters them everywhere,\n rolls over onto his back and knocks over a rake, which falls\n and breaks a basement window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n And... we're home.\n\n 178 INT. PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER - DAY 178\n\n As John is introduced", ")\n He's waiting for you.\n\n 46 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DRIVEWAY - DAY 46\n\n John and Jenny get out of the car. We hear WHIMPERING in the\n garage.\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n She takes off for the side door of the garage.\n\n 47 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - GARAGE - DAY 47\n\n They open the door and freeze.\n\n JENNY\n", "37\n\n John has his head buried under the pillows AS THE WAILING AND\n KEENING GO ON. AND ON. AND ON. Finally, John can't take it\n anymore. He sits up, pulls earplugs out of his ears.\n\n 38\n\n 38 INT. GARAGE - NIGHT\n\n As the light comes on and Marley's head appears over the top\n of the box. John sighs, comes over and scoops him up...\n\n 39 INT. 345 CH", "put it. around Marley's\n neck. Marley, liking its shiny jingling, tries to eat it.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 36.\n\n 57 CONTINUED: 57\n Much tussling, and John finally gets it around Marley's neck -\n but Marley still manages to grab it in his teeth.\n\n JOHN\n He likes it.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n That's", " \n\n \n\n \n 23.\n\n 28\n\n 28 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Marley. I like that...\n\n 29 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 29\n\n John's on the phone, talking to Jenny as he follows Marley\n around the room, trying to keep shoes and socks and cords out\n of his mouth...\n\n JOHN\n Are you sure? Because it can be\n", "\n\n JENNY\n Where'd it go? It was right here.\n\n JOHN\n You just put it down. It can't have\n\n JUST DISAPPEARED--\n And then he stops. Looks off. So does Jenny...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 54.\n \n\n 76\n\n 76 CONTINUED:\n\n JENNY\n Oh God...\n Marley stands a", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "under a paw. When John\n puts a hand on his flank, Marley's eyes flutter open. His\n tail THUMPS gently.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, buddy.\n He pets Marley's head, runs his hands all over Marley's body.\n His coat, still shedding. His tail. He takes up each paw,\n each ear, remembering and memorizing at the same time. He\n leans down, puts his nose on Marley's neck and breathes him\n in.", "\n\n 94\n\n 94 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Debby has run out of the bathroom, a towel hastily wrapped\n around her. Marley chases her. He leaps - and returns to\n earth with the towel in his mouth. Debby SCREAMS.\n\n 95\n\n 95 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Debby is standing on a coffee table, nude, swatting at an\n unseen Marley with a bunch", "the terrified toy poodle\n leaps into Jenny's arms. Marley tries to brake -\n\n JOHN\n Marley, no!\n - and suddenly, he is jerked back. John has tackled the\n table Marley's dragging. Marley YELPS and lands on his bac k,\n then quickly rights himself, tail wagging, the happiest dog\n in the world.\n Everyone surrounding them on the plaza has frozen silent.\n They all stare at Marley and the Grogans. The p", "ENTS\n Oh, he knows, and trust me, he\n the hell out of me right now. Go on,\n Marley! Get out!\n But Marley jumps up on the bed, tries to climb on both of\n\n THEM--\n\n JENNY\n Marley!\n And now they both start laughing as the dog tries to lick\n their faces...\n\n 67\n\n 67 INT. ARNIE'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Silence. Arnie reads John's column", ", like a dog with a sled, towards\n the now-terrified small dogs. He is chugging forward with\n every ounce of rippling muscle he has.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Marley!\n John hurries after the dog; Jenny stays with the boys.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 94.\n\n 162 CONTINUED: 162\n As Marley-", "edge of the property.\n Marley lies on the ground, in a hollow, hidden from view from\n the hill above. His belly is swollen, his face drawn. It's\n clear he's very ill.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay, boy, it's okay...\n\n 197\n\n 197 INT. VETERINARY TREATMENT ROOM - NIGHT\n\n John stands with DR. PLATT, a female vet. Marley lies on the\n floor in a dog bed," ], [ "looks at her. Is this a trick? He considers. Then he\n closer. John tiptoes up behind him, ever so slowly.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n I just want to give you a treat and a\n big kiss. That's a boy...\n Inch by inch, Marley approaches her. But then, behind\n Marley, John knocks against a table. Marley freezes.\n\n JOHN\n He made me! Go!\n Jenny lurches for Marley, going for his collar, and", "Marley. You flunked\n obedience school.\n\n JENNY\n You know, John, there is something else\n we can do--\n\n JOHN\n (looks at her)\n No, no, I'm not doing that to him.\n\n JENNY\n It's painless. And he'll be a lot more\n comfortable. It'll calm him down.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, you know why he'll be calmer?\n Because he'", "\n JOHN\n Hey, boy... let's go outside...\n\n 115 EXT. BACKYARD - MORNING 115\n\n As Marley relieves himself, John yawning in the b.g.\n\n 116 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING 116\n\n As Jenny unpacks her suitcase. Marley bounds into the room\n and greets her.\n\n JENNY\n Hello, Marley...\n She crouches down, gives him", "EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 107\n\n Jenny is tottering down the walk as John pulls out of the\n garage, gets her into the passenger seat.\n\n 108 INT. CAR - NIGHT (STATIONARY) 108\n\n\n JOHN\n Ready?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah. You?\n Marley barks from the back seat. They both turn and look at\n him. What's he doing here?\n\n 1", ", like a dog with a sled, towards\n the now-terrified small dogs. He is chugging forward with\n every ounce of rippling muscle he has.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n Marley!\n John hurries after the dog; Jenny stays with the boys.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Marley & He Shooting Draft 94.\n\n 162 CONTINUED: 162\n As Marley-", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "54 INT. KITCHEN - DAY\n\n John sits at the table scribbling on a legal pad. He tears\n off the sheet and crumples it up, throws it across the room.\n Marley bounds into the room, Jenny behind him, sweating.\n\n JENNY\n I think he dislocated my shoulder. He\n doesn't heel-- hell, he doesn't even\n walk, he sprints, and I had to pull him\n off three dogs...\n\n JOHN\n Pood", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", " I'm very strong-willed.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n And where is your animal?\n\n JOHN\n He's over there. With my wife. He was\n a little excited. He usually needs a\n little time to calm down.\n Ms. Kornblut looks at Jenny as she struggles up with Marley.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n I see. He calls the shots. Which of\n you will be the trainer?\n\n JENNY\n we thought we", "...\n\n JOHN\n Marley, heel!\n Marley takes off like a fighter jet, dragging John behind.\n\n MS. KORNBLUT\n Correct him!\n John gives a mighty yank on the leash. Marley coughs,\n hesitates. John loosens the leash - and Marley explodes\n forward again. John yanks, Marley stops, John releases,\n Marley explodes forward.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his", "CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 102\n\n A THUNDERSTORM outside. John sits at his desk, tries to work\n while Marley walks in circles. John looks at him...\n\n JOHN\n It's only thunder...\n John goes back to work. We hear more THUNDER, and Marley\n starts howling, knocks over a floor lamp... John looks off\n towards the bedroom...\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Jenny?! Can you help me out here? I\n ", "on the couch. Marley stands at her feet, with his\n shoulders between her knees, his big head resting in her lap.\n His tail hangs flat between his legs. His eyes are turned up\n at her, and he whimpers softly.\n Jenny strokes his head a few times and then, with no warning,\n buries her face in the thick fur of his neck and begins\n sobbing. They stay like that for a moment, Marley statue-\n still, Jenny clutching him to her like an oversized doll.\n John stands there, watching", "\n 67.\n\n 104\n\n 104 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Jenny has finished dressing. Suddenly she yelps in pain,\n doubles over. John takes her in his arms.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay.\n\n JENNY\n Ow!\n Suddenly, A GROWL. They turn to see Marley glaring at John.\n\n JOHN\n It's okay. I'm not hurting her.\n Jenny MO", "what's\n about to happen to him.\n Jenny looks over as Marley hooks his paws over the half open\n window so that his neck and upper shoulders now hang out of\n the car.\n\n JENNY\n He's making me nervous.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 40.\n\n 59\n\n 59 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n He's fine. He just wants a little\n\n FRE", "He hangs up, goes to the window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna get in the car, maybe drive\n\n OVER TO--\n (he sees something)\n Jenny.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Shooting Draft 109.\n\n MARLEY & ME\n\n 196\n\n 196 EXT. FRONT LAWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny run to'a tree at the", "\n Jenny'll call her...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 73.\n\n 125\n\n 125 CONTINUED:\n Marley sniffs at the ground, growling more and more\n intensely. We hear SHOUTING, \"He went that way\" as several\n neighbors take off running. Marley lifts his head and he,\n too, bolts into the night---\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Marley!", ".\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n You know what, this is a good spot\n right here.\n John looks out at the valley below, settles down onto the\n damp earth beside Marley.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Let's just sit for a while.\n The two of them sit there, looking out at the beautiful\n countryside below. John strokes Marley for a moment. Looks\n at the grey hair, the tired eyes that now look back at him.\n\n JOHN", "in\n frustration as Marley HOWLS at the moon.\n\n 90\n\n 90 EXT. IRISH TOWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny stop at a bed-and-breakfast for the night.\n It's raining softly.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Thunderstorms are his weak point.\n Well, one of his weak points. You can\n give him sedatives if you think a storm\n is arriving. He doesn't like them, so\n push them down into" ], [ "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", ". John\n\n N\n reads about Ireland in the guide book. Jenny sees a woma\n with a child. She smiles. No tears.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n There are just a few things about\n Marley you need to know. He eats three\n times a day. If he looks starved, feed\n him again. Of course all this food has\n to go somewhere.\n\n 86\n\n 86 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - DAY", "'t happen\n the whole time. Just maybe when you\n come home.\n (handing her a binder)\n This is everything you need to know.\n\n 84\n\n 84 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DAY\n\n John and Jenny lug their suitcases across the front lawn to\n the car, Marley running around them. Debby's glancing\n through the binder.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Debby. Welcome to our home! Marley is\n", "He hangs up, goes to the window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna get in the car, maybe drive\n\n OVER TO--\n (he sees something)\n Jenny.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Shooting Draft 109.\n\n MARLEY & ME\n\n 196\n\n 196 EXT. FRONT LAWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny run to'a tree at the", "EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - NIGHT 107\n\n Jenny is tottering down the walk as John pulls out of the\n garage, gets her into the passenger seat.\n\n 108 INT. CAR - NIGHT (STATIONARY) 108\n\n\n JOHN\n Ready?\n\n JENNY\n Yeah. You?\n Marley barks from the back seat. They both turn and look at\n him. What's he doing here?\n\n 1", "\n Butterly looks at them sourly. So do the other guests.\n\n JENNY\n\n (TO JOHN)\n They heard us.\n\n JOHN\n No...\n He jumps as Mrs. Butterly slams the teapot on the table.\n\n MRS. BUTTERLY\n Tea?\n (looks him in the eye)\n I'm off to Mass.\n Mrs. Butterly leaves. John and Jenny look at the other\n guests. They smile bravely.", "up behind him, puts her arms around him.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 72.\n\n 122 CONTINUED: 122\n\n JENNY\n They're still here.\n He looks up at their reflection in the window, not so sure.\n\n 123 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 123\n\n John and Jenny now asleep on opposite sides of the bed. On\n the floor beside John, Marley lifts his", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", "CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Happy Birthday.\n\n JENNY\n Oh my God... they're adorable...\n\n (THEN)\n Wait a minute, my birthday's a month\n from now.\n\n LORI\n That's okay, they can't leave for\n another three weeks anyway.\n\n JENNY\n John, we never even talked about this.\n\n JOHN\n You're right. Let", "\n JOHN\n Hey, boy... let's go outside...\n\n 115 EXT. BACKYARD - MORNING 115\n\n As Marley relieves himself, John yawning in the b.g.\n\n 116 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING 116\n\n As Jenny unpacks her suitcase. Marley bounds into the room\n and greets her.\n\n JENNY\n Hello, Marley...\n She crouches down, gives him", "T. BACKYARD - NIGHT 121\n\n John stands there letting Marley out. He looks back at the\n house, watches Jenny through the window as she sets Patrick\n down in his crib, shuts the light out.\n\n 122 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT 122\n\n They're both working at their desks. Jenny looks up from her\n computer.\n\n JENNY\n I need to go in tomorrow for a few\n hours, see my editor. Think", "ILL - KITCHEN - DAY\n\n John helps Jenny through the kitchen door. Marley follows\n them, circles them wildly, then stops, puzzled, as he looks\n at them. Jenny goes into the living room; Marley follows\n her.\n\n JOHN\n You want some tea?\n\n (NO ANSWER)\n Hey, you know what I was thinking? We\n still have those tickets from your\n parents for the honeymoon in Ireland.\n We can finally do that.\n\n ", " 8 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n And now, please join me in raising a\n glass to my future neighbors down in\n Florida, and to the dawn of both a\n marriage end a brilliant journalistic\n team, the new Woodward and Bernstein,\n this time with sex. Bad sex, probably,\n but - anyway: to John and Jenny\n Grogan.\n\n AND NOW PUSH IN ON JOHN AND JENNY\n She's had an ffect on\n ", "ers.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n From there, they went on to work\n together at the school newspaper.\n\n SHOT OF JENNY IN THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE\n Shot of Jenny standing at the head of a table full of\n reporters.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Although, technically, they didn't work\n together so much as John worked for\n Jenny who was the editor of said\n paper...\n\n SHOT OF JEN", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "ENNY\n Okay, tell the truth, were you really\n surprised?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. Thanks, Jen.\n She sits down on his lap...\n\n JENNY\n You want your present?\n\n JOHN\n Is it what you gave me last year?\n Because that was real nice--\n She hands him an envelope.\n\n JENNY\n Happy Birthday.\n He opens it, pulls out an AIRLINE TICKET.\n\n JOHN\n A", "AD - DAY 48\n\n As Marley bursts out of the back bedroom with one of Jenny's\n bras in his mouth.\n\n JENNY\n Marley, no!\n Jenny chases him into the kitchen, past John who holds up the\n newspaper...\n\n JOHN\n He gave me an extra paragraph...\n Marley bursts through the back screen door...\n\n 49 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - BACKYARD - DAY 49\n\n A", "wince at once...\n\n CONOR\n Marley!\n They all begin waving their hands in front of their faces.\n\n JENNY\n I think someone needs to go out.\n\n JOHN\n\n (GETS UP)\n Come on, boy...\n Marley gets to his feet, follows John to the front door.\n\n 188\n\n 188 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Rain falls as John opens the door and Mar", " John enters, carrying Patrick, supplies to fix the screen.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny?\n A wet Marley bounds into the house, heads for the back. John\n follows.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 76.\n\n 130\n\n 130 INT. BATHROOM - SAME\n\n\n THE\n Jenny is crouched on the floor when John appears in\n doorway.\n\n JOHN\n Hey. You alright?\n" ], [ ". John\n\n N\n reads about Ireland in the guide book. Jenny sees a woma\n with a child. She smiles. No tears.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n There are just a few things about\n Marley you need to know. He eats three\n times a day. If he looks starved, feed\n him again. Of course all this food has\n to go somewhere.\n\n 86\n\n 86 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - BACKYARD - DAY", " JOHN\n Three. Here's a picture of\n everybody...\n John pulls a photo from his wallet, hands it to Sebastian.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n\n (NODS)\n Jenny's holding up.\n\n JOHN\n (ignores the callowness)\n Yeah, she's great. And that's Colleen\n our youngest...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n What's with the ladybug get-up?\n\n JOHN\n ", "CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Happy Birthday.\n\n JENNY\n Oh my God... they're adorable...\n\n (THEN)\n Wait a minute, my birthday's a month\n from now.\n\n LORI\n That's okay, they can't leave for\n another three weeks anyway.\n\n JENNY\n John, we never even talked about this.\n\n JOHN\n You're right. Let", ", then stands up.\n\n JENNY\n Good-bye, Clearance Puppy.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n 226 EXT. GRAVE SITE - LATER 226\n\n John puts few big stones on top of the tamped-down earth. He\n sits on his haunches beside the grave, looks up at the house\n across the yard.\n\n JOHN'S POV - THE HOUSE\n All lit up. We see the kids sitting by the fire while Jenny\n", ". John tries\n not to be too taken aback by the blaze.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 98.\n\n 171\n\n 171 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n Okay, who wants to help me here? Kids?\n Marley, you too.\n Jenny squats down with the cake, and John and his kids start\n to blow out the candles.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n One", " John enters, carrying Patrick, supplies to fix the screen.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny?\n A wet Marley bounds into the house, heads for the back. John\n follows.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 76.\n\n 130\n\n 130 INT. BATHROOM - SAME\n\n\n THE\n Jenny is crouched on the floor when John appears in\n doorway.\n\n JOHN\n Hey. You alright?\n", "ts John. They stand there a moment,\n considering each other, then.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Look, man, you're happy doing your\n thing and I'm not trying to piss on\n that. I mean it, you're good at it. I\n just wanted you to be the first to\n know. That's all.\n\n 154\n\n 154 EXT. LORI'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n The house where John and Jenny bought Marley", "JENNY\n Like right now.\n\n 70 INT. ELEVATOR - DAY 70\n\n In the f.g., stands a harried thirty-something FATHER with a\n screaming INFANT in a Bjorn. John stands just behind the\n father who bounces in place trying unsuccessfully to soothe\n the baby.\n\n GIRL'S VOICE\n Daddy!\n And now, another KID, 4-year-old girl, jumps up in and out of\n frame", "\n And he kisses Jenny. Hugs the kids. Jenny watches him as he i en t e d , distracted.\n shakes hands, hugs their friends, disor\n\n 170\n\n 170 INT. LAUNDRY ROOM - NIGHT\n\n here.\n John , closes\n John petsdthe dog, rta es\n up , g greets John. k\n\n JOHN\n Forty. Jesus Christ...\n He looks at Marley a moment, then...\n\n JO", "'t happen\n the whole time. Just maybe when you\n come home.\n (handing her a binder)\n This is everything you need to know.\n\n 84\n\n 84 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DAY\n\n John and Jenny lug their suitcases across the front lawn to\n the car, Marley running around them. Debby's glancing\n through the binder.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Debby. Welcome to our home! Marley is\n", "the young couple go, arms around each other.\n\n 72\n\n 72 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY\n\n John enters and is greeted as usual by Marley who jumps on\n him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, boy.\n\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Jenny?\n\n JENNY\n Out in a sec!\n John stands there, Marley looking at him.\n\n JOHN\n (to the dog)\n ", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 49.\n\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n\n SEBASTIAN\n So the puppy wasn't enough?\n\n JOHN\n Well, technically, we're not trying.\n But you know Jenny.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n But things are good right now, just as\n they are, right?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, things are really good.\n\n SEBA", "Jenny. He\n gets up, sits by her side of the bed, and waits.\n Suddenly Jenny sits up, rests a hand on her stomach.\n\n JENNY\n\n WHOA--\n She catches her breath, leans over to John.\n\n JENNY (CONT'D)\n John. John, wake up.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n JENNY\n I think it's time.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "sail past the place where the kids stopped, through\n the woods, barely missing trees and low-hanging branches,\n\n TOWARDS:\n\n JENNY\n John! The creek!\n The toboggan bumps over the crest of a small hill and sails\n through the air, landing with a crash on the iced-over creek.\n John and Marley tumble into a snow bank on the opposite side.\n A moment. But then Marley jumps up and wriggles in delight.\n John painfully unf", "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "\n Butterly looks at them sourly. So do the other guests.\n\n JENNY\n\n (TO JOHN)\n They heard us.\n\n JOHN\n No...\n He jumps as Mrs. Butterly slams the teapot on the table.\n\n MRS. BUTTERLY\n Tea?\n (looks him in the eye)\n I'm off to Mass.\n Mrs. Butterly leaves. John and Jenny look at the other\n guests. They smile bravely.", "PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - DAY\n\n White everywhere. The family and Marley trudge into the\n snow, unused to their boots and snowsuits. Marley jumps\n around, barks like he's a puppy again.\n\n 181\n\n 181 EXT. HILL - DAY\n\n The kids slide down the hill in a toboggan. John is at the\n bottom to catch them. Up at the house, Jenny calls...\n\n JENNY\n Okay, time for", "s up, sees Jenny now standing in the doorway, tying\n her robe, looking at him anxiously.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n He's coming home.\n\n 201\n\n 201 EXT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up. He gets out of the SUV, walks around and\n opens the back window and now Marley sits up into view.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "there.\n John sits there, thinking about that.\n\n EDITOR (CONT'D)\n All I'm saying is: less you, more\n facts.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 107.\n\n 187\n\n 187 INT. PENNSYLVANIA HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Marley snores on the floor while John, Jenny and the kids all\n watch a movie together. Suddenly, they all take a whiff, then\n ", "John\n leaps at him from behind. Marley skitters away. Ah, a game!\n He wags his tail, prances, sticks his rear in the air and his\n puts his head to the ground. John feints, tries to maneuver\n Marley back into Jenny.\n Jenny finally grabs him from behind. John pries open his\n mouth. Nothing. He reaches inside, looks up at Jenny.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Uh-oh.\n\n\n 77 EXT. 3" ], [ "1\n\n 151 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - EVENING\n\n As John pulls up, gets out of his car. We hear Marley\n barking in the garage.\n\n 152\n\n 152 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING\n\n As John comes in, sees Jenny sitting there on the couch.\n\n JOHN\n Why's Marley out in the--\n\n JENNY\n I want that dog out of here.\n\n JOH", "Well, as you know, Sebastian and I were\n in college together, and he was always\n talking about South Florida... mostly\n about the women of South Florida, but\n anyway, after my wife and I got married\n we thought it might be nice to come\n\n DOWN HERE--\n\n ARNIE\n For the women?\n\n JOHN\n Uh, no-- for the... the... uh...\n\n ARNIE\n For the work?\n\n JOHN\n Yes. That", "EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - NIGHT 140\n\n John pulls into his driveway, turns off the car and just sits\n there.\n\n 141 INT. JOHN'S CAR - SAME 141\n\n As John looks at the house... the windows all lit up. Inside\n Jenny moves about with the baby over her shoulder as Patrick\n chases Marley around the room. John sits in the car, unable\n to move, just watching the chaos in the window.\n Marley jumps up against", "ed Toyota Tercel comes over. a rise.\n We follow the car through town, get\n\n SUPER: \"1990\"\n\n 11 INT. CAR - DAY 11\n\n Jenny driving. John clutching his portfolio on his lap. She\n cuts a look at him.\n\n JENNY\n You okay?\n\n JOHN\n Oh yeah.\n\n 12 EXT. FORT LAUDERDALE SUN-SENTINEL NEWSPAPER BUILDING", " give her a moment. She stands up.\n\n LISA (CONT'D)\n Where you moving to?\n\n JOHN\n Boca.\n\n LISA\n Huh.\n\n JOHN\n Huh... what?\n\n LISA\n Nothing. I just... never pictured, you\n know, a guy like you moving to Boca.\n\n JOHN\n A guy like me?\n\n LISA\n Yeah, you know, young", "N\n Okay. I'll take him out.\n She looks up at him.\n\n JENNY\n I want you to get him out of here and\n keep him out of here.\n\n JOHN\n What'd he do--\n\n JENNY\n I mean it, John. I want him gone. I\n want him gone for good.\n\n 153\n\n 153 INT. SUN-SENTINEL OFFICES - DAY\n\n\n SEES THE\n ", "\n \n\n 95.\n \n\n 164\n\n 164 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - DAY\n\n John and the boys plant flowers in front of the house whilehead up like a\n Marley, chained to a post, lies in the shade,\n Sphynx, the baby, colleen in a portable bassinet beside him.\n Jenny comes outside with some sodas for the boys...\n\n JENNY\n John, telephone.\n\n CONOR\n Mom,", ". Marley wants to greet all\n the Boca mini-dogs as they are being walked or carried by\n their owners. Jenny leans up against John.\n\n JOHN\n I made reservations at Sunny's.\n Thought we could all sit outside.\n\n JENNY\n Sounds perfect.\n (takes his arm)\n Thank you.\n\n 162 EXT. SIDEWALK CAPE - DAY 162\n\n They are seated at an outside table, shaded by a", " Yeah, I mean...\n\n (THEN)\n .yeah.\n\n 68\n\n 68 INT. SUN-SENTINAL OFFICE - DAY\n\n desk.\n John walks out of the office, pensive, sits down at his\n His PHONE RINGS.\n\n JOHN\n Grogan.\n\n 69\n\n 69 INT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - SAME\n\n Jenny on the phone, looking at a dry erase calendar.", " 8 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.)\n And now, please join me in raising a\n glass to my future neighbors down in\n Florida, and to the dawn of both a\n marriage end a brilliant journalistic\n team, the new Woodward and Bernstein,\n this time with sex. Bad sex, probably,\n but - anyway: to John and Jenny\n Grogan.\n\n AND NOW PUSH IN ON JOHN AND JENNY\n She's had an ffect on\n ", "\n JENNY\n Marry him.\n\n JOHN\n Check. Step three?\n She smiles, puts her face right up to his...\n\n JENNY\n Now that one's a surprise...\n They kiss and as we push past them, into the snowy window, we\n END CREDITS and...\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n 10 EXT. FORT LAUDERDALE STREET - DAY 10\n\n A HEAT MIRAGE. A batter", "seem happy for me.\n\n JOHN\n I am. I'm just in shock. I mean, I'm\n in Florida because of you. Woodward\n and Bernstein. Remember? That was the\n idea.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Yeah, that was the idea before you\n decided to be the Andy Rooney of South\n Florida.\n\n JOHN\n I didn't decide to be anything--\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Exactly.\n Boom. That hur", "quirer.\n She looks at him.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n They're offering me a job.\n\n (THEN)\n As a reporter. I guess the editor was\n down here on vacation, read my stuff.\n\n JENNY\n What'd you say?\n\n JOHN\n I said thank you very much, but I'm\n happy where I am. I mean, it's a big\n change, Florida to Pennsylvania.\n\n JENNY\n", "'re not happy\n here anymore, doing that column.\n You're restless, John. I feel it. I\n feel it when you read Sebastian's\n articles every day. And I feel it when\n you sit out in the driveway an extra\n five minutes before you come in.\n\n (THEN)\n Maybe it's time for a change.\n\n JOHN\n I'm forty, Jen. Seems kinda late for\n that.\n\n JENNY\n Not so late.\n ", "to loading the car.\n\n 147\n\n 147 INT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - CONOR'S ROOM - DAY\n\n As Jenny gently sets a sleeping Conor in his crib. She\n quietly backs out of the room and shuts the door.\n\n 148 INT. HALLWAY - SAME 148\n\n As she peers in on Patrick, also napping in his room.\n\n 149 INT. JOHN & JENNY'S BEDROOM - DAY ", " WAIT--\n He reaches into a moving box, pulls out a chewed-up black\n Converse.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n I believe this belongs to you.\n\n LISA\n Thanks. I'll have to chew up the other\n one to make it match.\n (extends her hand)\n Have fun down there.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. It's gonna be great.\n\n 134 EXT. BOCA RATON HOUSE - NIGHT", "'t happen\n the whole time. Just maybe when you\n come home.\n (handing her a binder)\n This is everything you need to know.\n\n 84\n\n 84 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL - DAY\n\n John and Jenny lug their suitcases across the front lawn to\n the car, Marley running around them. Debby's glancing\n through the binder.\n\n JENNY'S VOICE\n Debby. Welcome to our home! Marley is\n", "He hangs up, goes to the window.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna get in the car, maybe drive\n\n OVER TO--\n (he sees something)\n Jenny.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n Shooting Draft 109.\n\n MARLEY & ME\n\n 196\n\n 196 EXT. FRONT LAWN - NIGHT\n\n John and Jenny run to'a tree at the", " Can't, I'll be in L.A. Part of that\n drug piece I'm doing--\n\n JOHN\n Right. Another time then.\n John watches him move off, a secretary giving Sebastian a big\n smile as he passes. John sits there another moment, looks at\n his desk. A photo of him and Jenny. One of Marley with a flip\n flop in his mouth.\n John chuckles to himself, then deletes the column, starts\n typing a new one.\n\n 64 INT. ARN", "3 EXT. 345 CHURCHILL ROAD - DAY 133\n\n A MOVING VAN is parked out front. Marley runs back and forth\n as the MOVERS load up the truck, John and and a very pregnant\n Jenny supervising. John sees LISA, the girl next door, as she\n comes out of her house. She walks over to him.\n\n JOHN\n Hey, Lisa.\n\n LISA\n Hi.\n\n (THEN)\n You" ], [ "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", "3 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm going to New York.\n Sebastian smiles. John doesn't move.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n The Gray Lady came courting last week.\n\n (THEN)\n Times,\n I'm talking about the New York\n\n BUDDY--\n\n JOHN\n I know who you're talking about.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You don't", "had a chance to settle in. I\n hired a decorator, but she and I got\n into a thing and it got messy--\n\n JOHN\n Right.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Beer?\n\n JOHN\n I can't, I still got one more interview\n to do.\n\n A\n Sebastian opens the fridge revealing nothing but beer and\n hunk of Parmesan.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n What's the piece again?\n\n", "Well, as you know, Sebastian and I were\n in college together, and he was always\n talking about South Florida... mostly\n about the women of South Florida, but\n anyway, after my wife and I got married\n we thought it might be nice to come\n\n DOWN HERE--\n\n ARNIE\n For the women?\n\n JOHN\n Uh, no-- for the... the... uh...\n\n ARNIE\n For the work?\n\n JOHN\n Yes. That", " There's this new place in the meat\n Packing District. How's that sound? Be\n just like old times.\n John stands there a moment, feeling the distance between\n them.\n\n JOHN\n Uh, well, actually I'm headed back home\n later today.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Oh.\n\n JOHN\n In fact, I should probably get going...\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 114.\n", " SEBASTIAN\n You got adoc?\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 26.\n\n 32\n\n 32 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN\n Marley. A little lab. Like you said.\n Remember? The bomb...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Oh, right. Smart move. You'll see.\n (slaps him on the back)\n You've just preserved your quiet way of\n life", "\n\n Loft. Downtown. Full of unpacked boxes. A mattress on the\n floor. Expensive electronics sit atop their cartons. John\n follows Sebastian on a \"tour.\"\n\n JOHN\n Nice place. How long you been here?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Two years, little more.\n Sebastian sees John looking at all of the unpacked boxes.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n I'm in and out of town so much I really\n haven't", "(smiling at the memory)\n Oh, yeah, that's a funny story. She\n had done this pageant at her preschool\n two weeks before, but she didn't wanna\n take off the costume, plus Marley went\n ballistic for the antenna which is why\n it looks like he's trying to eat her\n head.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n\n (FLAT)\n Yeah, that is funny.\n (returns the photo)\n So I was thinking later on maybe Thai?\n", "\n Thanks for the tip.\n And John goes out the door. Sebastian takes out his\n blackberry, dials...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Hey, it's Sea-bass. What're you up to\n tonight?\n\n (THEN)\n Oh. No, that's cool. Another time\n then.\n He hangs up, stands there in the middle of his big, empty\n apartment a moment. He then dials another number.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)", "expect? You bought a\n house, man. A house with a mare\n room...\n\n JOHN\n What's wrong with a spare room?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n It's empty, John. That's what's wrong\n with it. And you know what else is\n empty? Her womb.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 14. 18\n \n\n 18 CONTINUED:\n\n JO", "--\n\n SEBASTIAN\n She's calling you home, isn't she?\n\n JOHN\n Yeah. See you later.\n John starts out of the bar. Sebastian calls after him.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Tick tick tick!\n\n 74\n\n 74 INT. 345 CHURCHILL - NIGHT\n\n Romantic Music on the stereo. John comes in, wearily,\n absently pets Marley. He goes into the bedroom. The\n ", "Sebastian!\n They both turn as Arnie sticks his head out of his office.\n\n ARNIE (CONT'D)\n Your travel's approved. Get outta here.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n In motion.\n\n JOHN\n Where you going?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Colombia. I got a guy down there, says\n he can put me next to Pablo Escobar--\n I'm doing this piece, I follow a single\n coca leaf from Colombia, to the", "seem happy for me.\n\n JOHN\n I am. I'm just in shock. I mean, I'm\n in Florida because of you. Woodward\n and Bernstein. Remember? That was the\n idea.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Yeah, that was the idea before you\n decided to be the Andy Rooney of South\n Florida.\n\n JOHN\n I didn't decide to be anything--\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Exactly.\n Boom. That hur", " it up. This one reads \"E F D TO GOOD HOME.\"\n comes up to John.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You giving up the dog? i thought yo u\n loved that thing.\n\n JOHN\n Jenny wants him out.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n That's harsh, man.\n\n JOHN\n I don't know what else to do. She's\n really unhappy. Maybe the dog is just\n one too many things.\n\n SEBA", " JOHN\n\n U.N.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Right, you told me that. So you're\n down in Philly now, huh?\n\n JOHN\n Just outside. More space for the kids.\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 113.\n\n 202\n\n 202 CONTINUED:\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Whatta you got, five now?\n\n", " 112.\n\n 201\n\n 201 CONTINUED:\n\n COLLEEN (O.S.)\n Marley's back!\n John opens the tail gate just as the kids come rushing onto\n the porch, Marley's tail wagging as he's lifted out of the\n car and set on the ground, the kids now surrounding him...\n\n 202\n\n 202 INT. SEBASTIAN'S APARTMENT - NEW YORK CITY - DAY", " Can't, I'll be in L.A. Part of that\n drug piece I'm doing--\n\n JOHN\n Right. Another time then.\n John watches him move off, a secretary giving Sebastian a big\n smile as he passes. John sits there another moment, looks at\n his desk. A photo of him and Jenny. One of Marley with a flip\n flop in his mouth.\n John chuckles to himself, then deletes the column, starts\n typing a new one.\n\n 64 INT. ARN", "ladies man?\n With mid-eighties hair, bad glasses.\n\n SEBASTIAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n You tell me.\n\n (THEN)\n\n HIM\n What he was, was John, and we loved\n for it.\n\n 2\n\n 2 INT. DORM ROOM - DAY (HOME VIDEO)\n\n\n AN\n Taken r. Sebastian. up l ^a\n n�ghte Sebastian turns the camera on himself, holds", "the library. That would have\n sucked.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n (hand on John's shoulder)\n Your time will come, amigo.\n\n JOHN\n I'll drink to that--\n They toast with their beers, Sebastian clocks John looking at\n his watch.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You gotta be somewhere?\n\n JOHN\n Oh. No, it's the puppy. It's his first\n\n NIGHT ALONE--\n\n ", "just gave Arnie my notice.\n John looks over at Arnie's office, the door's closed.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n He's not too happy about it. He called\n me an ungrateful quizzling and threw a\n stapler at me.\n\n JOHN\n You going over to the Post?\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 89.\n \n\n 153\n\n 15" ], [ "STIAN\n They're all unhappy. Trust me.\n Well... who knows? Maybe you'll get\n lucky and nobody'll want him.\n John just nods, thinks about that. Sebastian glances around,\n then takes John aside.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n Listen, there's something I gotta tell\n you.\n\n (THEN)\n I'm leaving the paper.\n\n JOHN\n What?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I", "quirer.\n She looks at him.\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n They're offering me a job.\n\n (THEN)\n As a reporter. I guess the editor was\n down here on vacation, read my stuff.\n\n JENNY\n What'd you say?\n\n JOHN\n I said thank you very much, but I'm\n happy where I am. I mean, it's a big\n change, Florida to Pennsylvania.\n\n JENNY\n", "John sits across from the editor.\n\n JOHN\n Too much color.\n\n EDITOR\n Yeah, I mean, don't get me wrong, it's\n a good piece, but... you're reporting\n now, John. I want you to tell the\n story, I don't want you to be in the\n\n STORY--\n\n JOHN\n I'm pretty sure I don't mention myself--\n\n EDITOR\n The point is, I still feel you in\n ", "to fellow staff and reporters, most of\n them at least ten years younger than he is. He's shown his\n desk. John sits down at his cubicle, stares out the window\n at the city. His EDITOR, black, John's age, approaches with\n a much younger REPORTER...\n\n EDITOR\n Hey, John. Settling in okay?\n\n JOHN\n I'm fine, thanks.\n\n EDITOR\n Good. I want you to meet Billy...\n He indicates the twenty-", "3 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n SEBASTIAN\n I'm going to New York.\n Sebastian smiles. John doesn't move.\n\n SEBASTIAN (CONT'D)\n The Gray Lady came courting last week.\n\n (THEN)\n Times,\n I'm talking about the New York\n\n BUDDY--\n\n JOHN\n I know who you're talking about.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You don't", " 173\n\n 173 INT. SUN-SENTINAL OFFICE - DAY\n\n out of his\n As John packs up his desk. Arnie sticks his head\n office.\n\n ARNIE\n Hey, Gorgan.\n John smiles to himself, walks over.\n\n ARNIE (CONT'D)\n I just wanted to say good luck up\n there.\n\n JOHN\n Thank you, sir.\n\n ARNIE\n Also, there's", "JOHN\n But I'm a reporter, not a columnist.\n\n ARNIE\n It's a step up.\n\n JOHN\n Yeah, but it's a step away from what I\n wanna do.\n\n ARNIE\n It's also better pay, you set your own\n hours, pick your own topics...\n\n (MORE)\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 32.\n\n 52\n\n ", "John sits at his desk, tries to write a column. Sebastian, in\n a flak jacket, pauses at his desk...\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Strip mall get approved?\n\n JOHN\n Riveting planning commission vote.\n Knuckle-biter. 8 to 1.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n You up for a beer?\n\n JOHN\n Can't, I gotta finish the column.\n Maybe tomorrow?\n\n SEBASTIAN\n", ". Six hundred\n words.\n\n EDITOR\n And what's the subject?\n\n JOHN\n Everyday stuff. The stuff we all go\n through. But funnier.\n\n EDITOR\n I don't get it. I thought you came\n here to be a reporter.\n\n JOHN\n I did, but I think we both know that\n isn't me. I'm a columnist. A good\n one.\n A SECRETARY sticks her head in the office...", "\n \n\n 9.\n \n\n 14\n\n 14 CONTINUED:\n\n JOHN (CONT'D)\n Like a Pulitzer, but for western\n Michigan.\n\n ARNIE\n A Mitchy. Min-hmm. So, tell me, why\n did you want to leave the estimable -\n (he flips to a story, reads\n\n THE HEADING)\n - Kalamazoo Gazette?\n\n JOHN\n ", " Can't, I'll be in L.A. Part of that\n drug piece I'm doing--\n\n JOHN\n Right. Another time then.\n John watches him move off, a secretary giving Sebastian a big\n smile as he passes. John sits there another moment, looks at\n his desk. A photo of him and Jenny. One of Marley with a flip\n flop in his mouth.\n John chuckles to himself, then deletes the column, starts\n typing a new one.\n\n 64 INT. ARN", "ed Toyota Tercel comes over. a rise.\n We follow the car through town, get\n\n SUPER: \"1990\"\n\n 11 INT. CAR - DAY 11\n\n Jenny driving. John clutching his portfolio on his lap. She\n cuts a look at him.\n\n JENNY\n You okay?\n\n JOHN\n Oh yeah.\n\n 12 EXT. FORT LAUDERDALE SUN-SENTINEL NEWSPAPER BUILDING", ", huh. Meaning you\n think you're a reporter?\n\n JOHN\n Meaning I know I am.\n\n ARNIE\n And the six other sweaty-palmed college\n grads I'm interviewing today, you think\n you're better than them?\n\n JOHN\n No, sir. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm\n not. But I do know that I always seem\n to surprise myself. Ten years ago, I\n was doing bong hits and", "seem happy for me.\n\n JOHN\n I am. I'm just in shock. I mean, I'm\n in Florida because of you. Woodward\n and Bernstein. Remember? That was the\n idea.\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Yeah, that was the idea before you\n decided to be the Andy Rooney of South\n Florida.\n\n JOHN\n I didn't decide to be anything--\n\n SEBASTIAN\n Exactly.\n Boom. That hur", ".\n\n ARNIE\n Your wife's Jenny Havens, right?\n\n JOHN\n Well, Jenny Grogan now--\n\n ARNIE\n She take the job at the Post?\n\n JOHN\n\n YEAH--\n\n ARNIE\n I tried to get her over her\n\n JOHN\n\n OH--\n\n ARNIE\n Damn fine writer.\n\n (THEN)\n\n (MORE)", "something guy beside him. John and\n Billy shake hands.\n\n EDITOR (CONT'D)\n Billy's gonna show you the ropes.\n\n BILLY\n You're the Florida guy, right? The dog\n columns...\n\n JOHN\n Well, some of them were, but--\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 103.\n\n 178\n\n 178 CONTINUED:\n\n BIL", "'re not happy\n here anymore, doing that column.\n You're restless, John. I feel it. I\n feel it when you read Sebastian's\n articles every day. And I feel it when\n you sit out in the driveway an extra\n five minutes before you come in.\n\n (THEN)\n Maybe it's time for a change.\n\n JOHN\n I'm forty, Jen. Seems kinda late for\n that.\n\n JENNY\n Not so late.\n ", "\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 10.\n 1\n\n 4\n\n 14 CONTINUED: (2)\n\n ARNIE (CONT'D)\n What's the matter, the Post didn't want\n Yo m?\n\n JOHN\n Well, she does features. I'm more a\n straight news writer. This is a better\n paper for that.\n\n ARNIE\n Straight news writer", "N\n Okay. I'll take him out.\n She looks up at him.\n\n JENNY\n I want you to get him out of here and\n keep him out of here.\n\n JOHN\n What'd he do--\n\n JENNY\n I mean it, John. I want him gone. I\n want him gone for good.\n\n 153\n\n 153 INT. SUN-SENTINEL OFFICES - DAY\n\n\n SEES THE\n ", ")\n I hate to break it to you, son, but\n you're a good columnist.\n\n JOHN\n I just had this idea about myself, you\n know, that I was a reporter.\n\n ARNIE\n Yeah, well sometimes life comes up with\n a better idea. Tell you what. You\n make it a daily column and I'll double\n your salary. How's that?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n 79.\n\n 13" ] ]

[ "Where does John work when he moves from Michigan?", "Why does John adopt a dog?", "What breed of dog is Marley?", "Who is Marley named after?", "Why does Marley get kicked out of Ms. Kornblut's dog training class?", "What are the names jenny & john's children?", "After John turns 40, what does he decide to do?", "What condition does Marley die from?", "Where does the family decide to bury Marley?", "What did John and Jenny Grogan do shortly after their wedding?", "Which newspaper company did John work for?", "Who had the better job between John and Jenny?", "What did Sebastian Tunney suggest John and Jenny do?", "What did John realize might be a perfect topic for his first piece for his new assignment?", "What did John and Jenny do in Ireland?", "When was Marley especially hard to control?", "What did Marley delight in doing in Boca Raton?", "What did Jenny quickly realize after trying to give Marley away?", "What almost killed Marley once and also eventually killed him?", "Where do John and Jenny relocate to after their marriage?", "Who suggests John to adopt a dog?", "What dog do John and Jenny adopt?", "On whose name is Marley named after?", "To whom do John and Jenny take Marley for training?", "Where do John and Jenny travel for a belated honeymoon?", "What are the names of John and Jenny's children?", "Why do John and Jenny move to Boca Raton?", "Why did Sebastian move away?", "Where does John accept a reporter's position?" ]

[ [ "South Florida Sun Sentinel", "South Florida Sun Sentinel" ], [ "to see if him & jenny are ready to raise a family", "to see if he and Jenny are ready for a baby" ], [ "A golden labrador", "Yellow Lab" ], [ "Reggae singer Bob Marley", "Bob Marley" ], [ "He doesn't obey commands", "because Marley refuses to obey commands." ], [ "patrick and connor", "Patrick and Connor" ], [ "takes a job as a reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer", "accept a position as reporter with The Philadelphia Inquirer" ], [ "Gastric dilatation volvulus", "Gastric Dilataion" ], [ "beneath a tree in the front yard", "under a tree in their front yard" ], [ "They relocated to a cottage in South Florida and got hired as reporters, but for competing newspapers.", "Adopt a dog" ], [ "The South Florida Sun-Sentinel.", "John worked at the South Florida Sun-Sentiniel and eventually moves on to work at The Philadelphia Inquirer." ], [ "Jenny did.", "Jenny" ], [ "Adopt a dog first to see if they're ready to raise a family.", "adopt a dog" ], [ "Marley's misadventures.", "the misadventures of Marley" ], [ "Celebrate a belated honeymoon.", "Late honeymoom" ], [ "During frequent thunderstorms.", "during thunderstorms" ], [ "Swimming in the backyard pool.", "swimming" ], [ "That Marley had already become and indispensable part of the family.", "Jenny comes to the realization that Marley is a huge part of their lives." ], [ "An attack of gastric dilatation volvulus.", "gastric dilatation volvulus" ], [ "South Florida", "to escape the brutal winters" ], [ "John's co-worker and friend Sebastian", "Sebastian" ], [ "Labrador Retriever ", "Marley" ], [ "Bob Marley", "Bob Marley" ], [ "Ms. Kornblut", "Marley" ], [ "Ireland", "Ireland" ], [ "Patrick and Connor", "Patrick and Connor" ], [ "Because of the crime rate", "because of the lower crime rate, and they now had children" ], [ "Sebastian moved away because he got a job with The New York Times.", "He accepted a job at the New York Times" ], [ "The Philadelphia Inquirer", "South Florida Sentinel" ] ]

[ [ "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber" ], [ "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "End of Project Gutenberg's The Masque of the Red Death, by Edgar Allan Poe\n\n", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy" ], [ "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means" ], [ "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with" ], [ "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "-hand made the\ncircuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from\nthe brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep\nand exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,\nat each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were\nconstrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to\nthe sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and\nthere was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the" ], [ "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "-hand made the\ncircuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from\nthe brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep\nand exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,\nat each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were\nconstrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to\nthe sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and\nthere was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow" ], [ "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum," ], [ "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas" ], [ "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to" ], [ "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ], [ "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ], [ "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means" ], [ "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "and\nphantasm--much of what has been since seen in \"Hernani\". There were\narabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were\ndelirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the\nbeautiful, much of the wanton, much of the _bizarre_, something of the\nterrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.\nTo and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of\ndreams. And these--", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ], [ "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l" ], [ "-hand made the\ncircuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from\nthe brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep\nand exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,\nat each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were\nconstrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to\nthe sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and\nthere was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the" ], [ "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap" ], [ "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "End of Project Gutenberg's The Masque of the Red Death, by Edgar Allan Poe\n\n", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l" ], [ "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l" ], [ "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means" ], [ "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap" ], [ "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "End of Project Gutenberg's The Masque of the Red Death, by Edgar Allan Poe\n\n", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy" ], [ "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", " GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by Levent Kurnaz. HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Masque of the Red Death\n\n\nby\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\n\n\n\nThe \"Red Death\" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had\never been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its\nseal--the redness and the horror of blood. ", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "End of Project Gutenberg's The Masque of the Red Death, by Edgar Allan Poe\n\n", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber" ], [ "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "and\nphantasm--much of what has been since seen in \"Hernani\". There were\narabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were\ndelirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the\nbeautiful, much of the wanton, much of the _bizarre_, something of the\nterrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.\nTo and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of\ndreams. And these--" ], [ "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ], [ "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum,", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "and\nphantasm--much of what has been since seen in \"Hernani\". There were\narabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were\ndelirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the\nbeautiful, much of the wanton, much of the _bizarre_, something of the\nterrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.\nTo and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of\ndreams. And these--", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu" ], [ "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "-hand made the\ncircuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from\nthe brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep\nand exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,\nat each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were\nconstrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to\nthe sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and\nthere was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", ", such suites form a long and straight vista,\nwhile the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand,\nso that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the\ncase was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's\nlove of the _bizarre_. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that\nthe vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a\nsharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel\neffect. To the right and left, in the", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum," ], [ "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "the effect\nof the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the\nblood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a\nlook upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of\nthe company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.\n\nIt was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western\nwall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a\ndull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "-hand made the\ncircuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from\nthe brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep\nand exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,\nat each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were\nconstrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to\nthe sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and\nthere was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "the dreams--writhed in and about taking hue from\nthe rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the\necho of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which\nstands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is\nstill, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are\nstiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away--they\nhave endured but an instant--and a light, half-subdu", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "amid the profusion of golden\nornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof.\nThere was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the\nsuite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there\nstood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of\nfire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly\nillumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and\nfantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "middle of each wall, a tall and\nnarrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued\nthe windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose\ncolour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations\nof the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was\nhung, for example in blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The\nsecond chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the\npanes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the\ncas", "ements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth\nwith white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely\nshrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and\ndown the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same\nmaterial and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows\nfailed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were\nscarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments\nwas there any lamp or candelabrum," ], [ "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "-hand made the\ncircuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from\nthe brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep\nand exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that,\nat each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were\nconstrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to\nthe sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and\nthere was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap" ], [ "There were sharp pains, and\nsudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with\ndissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the\nface of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid\nand from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure,\nprogress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an\nhour.\n\nBut the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his\ndominions were half depopulated, he", "upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate\nin death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of\ndespair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the\nblack apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect\nand motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in\nunutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask,\nwhich they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any\ntangible form.", "\n\nAnd now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come\nlike a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the\nblood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing\nposture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with\nthat of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired.\nAnd Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over\nall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "summoned to his presence a thousand\nhale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his\ncourt, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his\ncastellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure,\nthe creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong\nand lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The\ncourtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and\nwelded the bolts. They resolved to leave means", "ery appals; and to him whose foot\nfalls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a\nmuffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches _their_ ears\nwho indulged in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.\n\nBut these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat\nfeverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until\nat length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And\nthen the music ceased, as I have told", "the courtiers who stood near\nhim--\"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and\nunmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the\nbattlements!\"\n\nIt was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince\nProspero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven\nrooms loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and\nthe music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.\n\nIt was in the blue room", "ed laughter floats\nafter them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the\ndreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue\nfrom the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the\ntripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven,\nthere are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning\naway; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes;\nand the blackness of the sable drap", "where stood the prince, with a group of pale\ncourtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight\nrushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at\nthe moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately\nstep, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless\nawe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole\nparty, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that,\nunimpeded, he passed within a", "was wine. All these and\nsecurity were within. Without was the \"Red Death\".\n\nIt was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion,\nand while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince\nProspero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most\nunusual magnificence.\n\nIt was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of\nthe rooms in which it was held. These were seven--an imperial suite.\nIn many palaces, however", "spero,\nmaddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice,\nrushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on\naccount of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a\ndrawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three\nor four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained\nthe extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted\nhis pursuer. There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming\n", "; and the evolutions of the\nwaltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things\nas before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell\nof the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought\ncrept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among\nthose who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that before the\nlast echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were\nmany individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to", "night was nearly unlimited; but\nthe figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the\nbounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the\nhearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.\nEven with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests,\nthere are matters of which no jest can be made. The whole company,\nindeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of\nthe stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall\nand", "the\nchimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew\npale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows\nas if in confused revery or meditation. But when the echoes had fully\nceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians\nlooked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and\nfolly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next\nchiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and\nthen, after the l", ", with\nall the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.\n\nWhen the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image\n(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain\nits role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be\nconvulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror\nor distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.\n\n\"Who dares,\"--he demanded hoarsely of", "neither of ingress nor\negress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The\nabbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might\nbid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of\nitself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The\nprince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were\nbuffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there\nwere musicians, there was Beauty, there", "yard of the prince's person; and, while\nthe vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of\nthe rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the\nsame solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the\nfirst, through the blue chamber to the purple--through the purple to\nthe green--through the green to the orange--through this again to the\nwhite--and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been\nmade to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Pro", "become aware of\nthe presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no\nsingle individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having\nspread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole\ncompany a buzz, or murmur, expressive of disapprobation and\nsurprise--then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.\n\nIn an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be\nsupposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation.\nIn truth the masquerade licence of the", "gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the\ngrave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to\nresemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest\nscrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all\nthis might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers\naround. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the\nRed Death. His vesture was dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow", "apse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand\nand six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another\nchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and\ntremulousness and meditation as before.\n\nBut, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The\ntastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and\neffects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were\nbold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with", "barbaric lustre. There\nare some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he\nwas not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be _sure_\nthat he was not.\n\nHe had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven\nchambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding\ntaste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were\ngrotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy" ] ]

[ "Why did the nobles take refuge in the abbey?", "How did Prince Prospero die?", "Who was the guest in the blood-splattered robe?", "When the guest in the blood-splattered robe was unmasked, what was underneath?", "What would happen every time the clock chimed?", "What happened when the clock struck midnight?", "How do the inhabitants of the Abbey besides Prince Prospero die?", "What weapon did Prospero have when he pursued the guest in the blood-splattered robes?", "What was done to the doors in order to prevent entry into the abbey?", "Why did Prospero hide in the Abby?", "Where does the Prince trap the mysterious masked being?", "What did Prospero find under the brings mask?", "At what time does Prospero see the masked being?", "Why are people afraid to go into the last room of the Abby?", "What takes place hourly that stops allusic, dancing and talking?", "How many nobles are with Prince Prospero?", "How quickly does the Red Death kill the victims?", "How is the last room in the Abby lite?", "What does the last line in the story say?", "Who is Prospero?", "Where did Prospero take refuge from the Red Death?", "What was the Red Death?", "How many courtesans joined Prospero in refuge?", "What event did Prospero plan to entertain his guests?", "How was the last chamber decorated?", "What was the large clock made of?", "What happened at midnight?", "How did Prospero react to the stranger?", "What happened to Prospero and his guests?" ]

[ [ "To avoid contracting the Red Death.", "To escape the red death" ], [ "He came face to face with the guest in the blood-splattered robe, the Red Death.", "The embodiment of the Red Death kills him." ], [ "The Red Death", "The Red Death itself." ], [ "Nothing", "The Red Death." ], [ "Everybody would stop talking or dancing, and the orchestra would stop playing.", "Everyone stops talking and dancing and the orchestra stops playing music. " ], [ "A guest in blood-splattered robes and a mask, with signs of the Red Death appeared.", "they notice a figure in a dark robe" ], [ "They died by the Red Death.", "They Contract the disease" ], [ "A dagger", "A dagger. " ], [ "They were welded shut.", "They are welded." ], [ "Avoid Red Death", "to escape the red death" ], [ "In the seventh room.", "In the seventh room." ], [ "Nothing", "Nothing" ], [ "Midnight.", "The chiming of midnight. " ], [ "The seventh rooms red light and colored glass windows create a blood red appearance.", "Its dark and scary" ], [ "The clock chime's.", "A clock chiming." ], [ "1,000", "1000" ], [ "Within a half hour.", "Within half an hour." ], [ "A Red light.", "It was lit by a scarlet light" ], [ "That the red Death keep everyone in fear of drying.", "Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable domination over all. " ], [ "He is a prince.", "A prince." ], [ "In a castellated abbey.", "In the castellated abbey. " ], [ "A plague with gruesome symptoms.", "A plague." ], [ "One thousand.", "1000" ], [ "A masquerade ball.", "A masquerade ball." ], [ "It was decorated in black and was illuminated a deep blood color due to the stained glass windows.", "Black with a red light" ], [ "Ebony.", "made of ebony" ], [ "A figure in a dark, blood stained robe appeared.", "A mysterious masked man appeared." ], [ "He was angry and demanded to know his identity.", " lets out a sharp cry and falls dead." ], [ "They contracted and succumbed to the disease.", "They die." ] ]

[ [ " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "more powerful plane\n than anything she's flown. We're\n thinking the Lockheed Vega.\n The girl's shock. He really means this.\n\n ELINOR\n Sir, I've test piloted the Vega.\n It's way more than she could ever\n handle. It wouldn't be safe, let\n alone successful.\n He smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n That's why I'm thinking of you\n flying with her.", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", "\n labeled `LUCKY LINDY.'\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n THe illusion of activity was\n essential for him to feel at peace.\n The photographer now shows George ANOTHER PHOTO of Lindbergh\n in a different pose.\n\n AMELIA\n What are you boys doing over there?\n\n GEORGE\n Trying to make you look like a\n girl.\n George studies the photo, then goes to Amelia and begins\n ", "PORT - NIGHT\n\n he heavy door rolls OPEN. George and Amelia enter the\n brightly-lit hangar to see two men working on the FRIENDSHIP,\n a sea-plane with golden wings. Its red-orange fuselage\n stands beside gigantic PONTOONS, each 29 feet long. The\n pontoons have been opened, and the men are attaching them to\n the plane.\n They turn toward us now. BILL STULTZ is short and wiry with\n quick eyes. Only ", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", " I think it would be huge for women\n flyers if Amelia won the Derby.\n The publicity would put the race,\n and all of you, up there with the\n boys.\n\n \n\n 47.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ELINOR\n I'm not sure she has much of a\n chance, Mr. Putnam.\n\n GEORGE\n Well, the one shot would be putting\n her in a far", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "Admiral estimates the pontoons\n only cut our range by 200 miles.\n But Amelia looks to Bill. That's not really possible is it?\n\n BILL\n The Admiral is the Admiral. He\n gets to estimate any damn thing he\n wants. All we have to do is figure\n out how to fly without petrol.\n She turns to George with challenging eyes.\n\n BILL (CONT'D)\n Don't go blaming the bookseller.\n He's", "published over her name.\n Understood...? G\n\n EORGE (CONT'D)\n But all the money from these will\n go to Mrs. Guest.\n\n AMELIA\n Except for the part that goes to\n you.\n\n GEORGE\n Which will be as great as I can\n manage, I assure you.\n\n AMELIA\n You said she wants a flyer.\n\n GEORGE\n Don'", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", ".) (CONT'D)\n When he said it, I must have had a\n funny look. So I just said, `Yeh,\n I grew up around a guy like that.'\n\n GEORGE\n Boys, I'd like to introduce your\n commander, Miss Amelia Earhart.\n\n AMELIA\n We felt `commander' was less\n grandiose than, say, `empress.'\n Bill doesn't smile. The other man does...", "28, he seems weathered by his adventures\n and the streaks of gray through his hair. He is not\n necessarily happy to see us.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George had told me Stultz was Adm.\n Byrd's favorite pilot, fearless,\n gifted. He drank. But George said\n it never affected his work.\n George waves as we approach. Bill and Amelia seem locked on\n each other.\n\n AMELIA (V.O" ], [ "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "28, he seems weathered by his adventures\n and the streaks of gray through his hair. He is not\n necessarily happy to see us.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George had told me Stultz was Adm.\n Byrd's favorite pilot, fearless,\n gifted. He drank. But George said\n it never affected his work.\n George waves as we approach. Bill and Amelia seem locked on\n each other.\n\n AMELIA (V.O", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "\n hat Dorothy had been having a\n torrid affair with Fred Upton.\n Everyone did.\n She steps to the microphone. The crowd quiets.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n But I didn't kiss him because I\n felt sorry for him. Or because\n it would mean the world to him.\n INTERCUT. George in the wings. His heart in his eyes.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", ".\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I do love you.\n Something in her serious face makes him smile.\n\n GEORGE\n Well, I love you back.\n\n AMELIA\n Thanks.\n Takes a step back toward the hangar door. One hand slightly\n up, stay here. Then, the smile he's waited for.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n See ya.\n He smiles back. She turns", "more powerful plane\n than anything she's flown. We're\n thinking the Lockheed Vega.\n The girl's shock. He really means this.\n\n ELINOR\n Sir, I've test piloted the Vega.\n It's way more than she could ever\n handle. It wouldn't be safe, let\n alone successful.\n He smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n That's why I'm thinking of you\n flying with her.", ".) (CONT'D)\n When he said it, I must have had a\n funny look. So I just said, `Yeh,\n I grew up around a guy like that.'\n\n GEORGE\n Boys, I'd like to introduce your\n commander, Miss Amelia Earhart.\n\n AMELIA\n We felt `commander' was less\n grandiose than, say, `empress.'\n Bill doesn't smile. The other man does...", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "PORT - NIGHT\n\n he heavy door rolls OPEN. George and Amelia enter the\n brightly-lit hangar to see two men working on the FRIENDSHIP,\n a sea-plane with golden wings. Its red-orange fuselage\n stands beside gigantic PONTOONS, each 29 feet long. The\n pontoons have been opened, and the men are attaching them to\n the plane.\n They turn toward us now. BILL STULTZ is short and wiry with\n quick eyes. Only ", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there" ], [ "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "to a stop, the crowd BREAKS THROUGH police\n lines and SURGES toward the plane.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Then, the first human to solo from\n California to Mexico City. Followed\n by her daring solo across the Gulf.\n As she passed over Washington,\n D.C., she eclipsed the time of a\n certain previous flight, from 27\n hours to 13 hours.\n ", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "Keeps eating.\n\n ELEANOR (CONT'D)\n I did ask about aviation, but he\n hasn't decided on the structure\n yet. It might be under the Bureau\n f Commerce.\n\n AMELIA\n I think the structure may be less\n important than the man chosen to\n run it.\n Said casually, looking at her plate.\n\n ELEANOR\n My hearing is failing. I missed\n the words `or woman,' which you", " Aviation is clear today for the\n pioneer. And if the pioneer has\n good ideas nobody will ask whether\n P the pioneer is a man or woman.\n olite applause. Mostly from women. She looks around the\n room.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I hear your doubt. That doubt is\n our challenge. This is where our\n Atlantic flight, or any other good\n flight by a woman can help...\n She nods. ", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the" ], [ "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "\n hat Dorothy had been having a\n torrid affair with Fred Upton.\n Everyone did.\n She steps to the microphone. The crowd quiets.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n But I didn't kiss him because I\n felt sorry for him. Or because\n it would mean the world to him.\n INTERCUT. George in the wings. His heart in his eyes.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "28, he seems weathered by his adventures\n and the streaks of gray through his hair. He is not\n necessarily happy to see us.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George had told me Stultz was Adm.\n Byrd's favorite pilot, fearless,\n gifted. He drank. But George said\n it never affected his work.\n George waves as we approach. Bill and Amelia seem locked on\n each other.\n\n AMELIA (V.O", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", "yes?\n No answer.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Pan Am will tell you. Everyone I\n ver worked for will tell you.\n Nothing's interfered with my\n performance. Not once.\n\n AMELIA\n My dad drank. He lied all the\n time. Rest his soul.\n\n FRED\n You trusted Bill Stultz. That\n worked out. Rest his soul.\n\n AMELIA\n Bill just had", "DOR AIRLINER - LATER\n\n Raucous party in the small cabin, hosted by George and fueled\n\n .\n by champagne. PAN slowly to...\n ..the cockpit. Amelia at the controls in her evening dress\n and formal gloves. Eleanor in the co-pilot's seat, awestruck\n by the brilliant starry night. Amelia glances over, moved by\n her friend's almost childlike wonder.\n AMELIA (softly)\n Put", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "NIGHT\n\n PAN the dark, elegant restaurant. In a corner by the fire-\n place, Amelia and her dinner companions are being served\n lobsters. GENE VIDAL leans to Amelia as he speaks, and she\n hangs on every word.\n\n GENE\n Transcontinental was too ambitious.\n Too many hops, too tough on the\n ladies. But the shuttle...\n A lean athlete's body, easy grace in every movement.\n Strikingly handsome features that convey not only", "Keeps eating.\n\n ELEANOR (CONT'D)\n I did ask about aviation, but he\n hasn't decided on the structure\n yet. It might be under the Bureau\n f Commerce.\n\n AMELIA\n I think the structure may be less\n important than the man chosen to\n run it.\n Said casually, looking at her plate.\n\n ELEANOR\n My hearing is failing. I missed\n the words `or woman,' which you", ".) (CONT'D)\n When he said it, I must have had a\n funny look. So I just said, `Yeh,\n I grew up around a guy like that.'\n\n GEORGE\n Boys, I'd like to introduce your\n commander, Miss Amelia Earhart.\n\n AMELIA\n We felt `commander' was less\n grandiose than, say, `empress.'\n Bill doesn't smile. The other man does...", "\n Queen of the Skies.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I had a call from the Byrds.\n They've asked us to dinner\n Thursday.\n\n AMELIA\n Thursday, I'll be in Boston.\n Meeting Gene Vidal and Paul\n Collins.\n Said lightly. Not even looking at him. While through the\n glass, it's become quite a tussle.\n\n GEORGE\n Don", "PORT - NIGHT\n\n he heavy door rolls OPEN. George and Amelia enter the\n brightly-lit hangar to see two men working on the FRIENDSHIP,\n a sea-plane with golden wings. Its red-orange fuselage\n stands beside gigantic PONTOONS, each 29 feet long. The\n pontoons have been opened, and the men are attaching them to\n the plane.\n They turn toward us now. BILL STULTZ is short and wiry with\n quick eyes. Only " ], [ "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n And, for that. I'm grateful.\n\n \n\n \n\n 88 88\n\n EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - DAY - NEWSREEL FOOTAGE\n\n Amelia and George crossing the tarmac from the Electra,\n waving to the crowd.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n The legendary Amelia Earhart lands\n in Miami, completing the first and\n easiest leg of her around-the-world\n", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "phone)\n Putnam.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n A full beat.\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n Sir, this is Douglas McGuire of the\n Press Association. I'm sorry to\n tell you that Miss Earhart's plane\n has crashed in a field, short of\n Le Bourget airport.\n\n SMASH CUT TO...\n\n \n\n \n\n ", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "...\n\n \n\n \n\n 17 17\n\n INT. SMALL HOTEL, NEWFOUNDLAND - MORNING\n\n Amelia alone, leaving her hotel room in her flight jacket.\n Locking the door.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: FIRST STOP: CANADA\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n Our first hop was to Canada, to\n start from as close as we could get\n to Ireland. Just in case we", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", " reverse my route and fly east. If\n go west now, I'm risking\n hurricanes in the Caribbean and\n monsoons in Africa...\n\n GENE\n But you're flying Howland last,\n when you're exhausted.\n She knows this. In the silence...\n\n G\n\n EORGE\n Gene, this way our first leg is\n Oakland to Miami. It's a shakedown\n o make sure the plane is right", "The room has nearly filled. COMMANDER THOMPSON stands at\n Bellart's shoulder. All eyes fixed on the radio...\n\n EARHART (O.S.)\n We are circling but cannot hear\n you. Go ahead on 7500.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Itasca to KHAQQ. Your signal is\n strong. Are you receiving this?\n A breathless moment. A sharp CRACKLE.\n\n ", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "cockpit. He checks a\n gauge.\n\n FRED\n Lovely. We've got so much fuel we\n can't possibly get off the ground.\n Much safer than flying.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, we need enough for a third\n pass at Howland. After you miss it\n the first couple times around.\n Ah.\n\n FRED\n Good thinking.\n he runway lights go ON, and...\n\n GE" ], [ ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", " reverse my route and fly east. If\n go west now, I'm risking\n hurricanes in the Caribbean and\n monsoons in Africa...\n\n GENE\n But you're flying Howland last,\n when you're exhausted.\n She knows this. In the silence...\n\n G\n\n EORGE\n Gene, this way our first leg is\n Oakland to Miami. It's a shakedown\n o make sure the plane is right", "around.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. ELECTRA - DAY\n\n\n 96 96\n Amelia flying down through heavy turbulence, though it is no\n longer raining. Her features tense. We see the accumulated\n strain of the adventure.\n\n F\n red appears from the catwalk, slips into the seat beside\n her. He's worried. Points, and we see...\n ...CALCUTTA below, sprawling and endless. Between us and the\n ground, a", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", "the sea, as a stray thought transforms her.\n Something fierce lives there.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LAE, NEW GUINEA - 1937.\n\n FRED (O.S.)\n Sure I can't talk you inta\n somethin' more adventurous?\n She turns. FRED NOONAN is tall and lean, ruggedly handsome\n in a reckless way. His flight clothes as rumpled and dirt-\n streaked as her own. He carries his", "A whole case.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. HOME, RYE - DAY\n\n\n 77 77\n Amelia at her writing desk. Determined, focused. She begins\n to write...\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n Dear Mr. President: Some time ago\n I told you and Mrs. Roosevelt about\n my confidential plans for a world\n flight. The chief problem is the\n jump westward from Honolulu...\n", " it's completely different.\n\n AMELIA\n Pretty much.\n He glowers at her. She glowers back.\n\n GENE\n There are men who say they flew\n around the world, but they didn't\n ly around all of it.\n\n GORE\n Because at higher latitudes, it's\n short trip. At the North Pole,\n ou just spin in a circle and\n you've gone around the world.\n\n", "And CLOSER.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I am hoping to see. That you know\n how much I mean each word.\n\n Gaining SPEED now...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n All the things I never said, for\n so very long...\n\n HURTLING TOWARD the surface...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n Look up. They", "...\n\n \n\n \n\n 17 17\n\n INT. SMALL HOTEL, NEWFOUNDLAND - MORNING\n\n Amelia alone, leaving her hotel room in her flight jacket.\n Locking the door.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: FIRST STOP: CANADA\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n Our first hop was to Canada, to\n start from as close as we could get\n to Ireland. Just in case we", "\n\n GORE\n So you'd be the first one, right?\n ou always like that.\n First one?\n\n GORE (CONT'D)\n To fly around the world.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, there's Magellan, 400 years\n go. Actually, he didn't make it.\n And he died. And he used a boat.\n\n GORE\n So it's almost the same, except\n ", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", "- VIEW down onto an endless sea of triple-canopy RAINFOREST.\n - VIEW of Brazilian CITY from ABOVE.\n VIEW onto the ocean and African coast.\n - VIEW of ANIMALS running beneath us.\n - VIEW of the SAHARA'S sands\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: IMAGES FROM STOPS:\n - Children surrounding Amelia at an African airfield\n - Amelia sleeping in the open desert\n - being welcomed by", "ateurs at\n Morse Code, so the radio wasn't\n worth what it weighed.\n Amelia has made the boys laugh. George laughs with them.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The 250 foot trailing auxiliary\n antenna, she would leave behind\n in Miami. Too heavy, not\n important.\n FLASHES now. And plenty of them. She reaches down to take\n George's hand and HOPS down from the", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "\n couldn't get the thing in the air\n and had to row.\n She walks briskly down the corridor.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n The fuel was going to be so close,\n every single mile counted.\n Turns a corner. Approaches the dining room door.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George told me to keep to my room,\n just in case there was a reporter\n or two somewhere.\n She enters the", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "\n her. She asked to come be with me.\n But I insisted she stay there, to\n keep on schedule for her flight.\n He reaches into the box...\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n So many treasures lost. Letters\n and poems she'd written. I poured\n through the rubble...\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. LOS ANGELES HOME - DAY\n\n\n 70 70\n Amelia curled up" ], [ "The room has nearly filled. COMMANDER THOMPSON stands at\n Bellart's shoulder. All eyes fixed on the radio...\n\n EARHART (O.S.)\n We are circling but cannot hear\n you. Go ahead on 7500.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Itasca to KHAQQ. Your signal is\n strong. Are you receiving this?\n A breathless moment. A sharp CRACKLE.\n\n ", "EARHART (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We received\n your signal, but unable to get a\n minimum. Please take bearing on\n us and answer 3105 with voice.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Your signal received okay. It is\n impractical to take a bearing on\n 3105 on your voice. Give us a\n longer signal, please. Go ahead.\n Silence. Feet are shifting. ", "3105. She said\n `cloudy and overcast.'\n O'Hare looks at him. Are you serious? Bellarts mimes typing\n with his fingers. O'Hare starts typing into the log.\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 3:45 A.M.\n Radio CRACKLES. All eyes turn.\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n Itasca from Earhart. Overcast.\n ", "\n silently, watching as...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 7:42 A.M.\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We must be\n on you but cannot see you...\n Glances are traded. It is the first moment of visible\n concern. STATIC interrupts. Then...\n\n AMELIA (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Gas is running low. Been unable to\n ", "\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Itasca\n had been anchored off Howland just\n for us.\n CLOSE on the ITASCA now...\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n Its radio would be her lifeline.\n Its black plume of smoke would\n reach for miles. More visible than\n the island itself.\n DISSOLVE TO NIGHT. The", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "phone. We are about\n 100 miles out.\n The transmission cuts out. Dalten answers in Morse Code. No\n response.\n\n DALTEN\n She's got to stay on longer.\n Bellarts dictating as O'Hare types...\n\n BELLARTS\n Earhart signal strength 4, but on\n\n A\n ir so briefly bearings impossible.\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE", "ateurs at\n Morse Code, so the radio wasn't\n worth what it weighed.\n Amelia has made the boys laugh. George laughs with them.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The 250 foot trailing auxiliary\n antenna, she would leave behind\n in Miami. Too heavy, not\n important.\n FLASHES now. And plenty of them. She reaches down to take\n George's hand and HOPS down from the", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", " Static. Dalten leans to the mic...\n DALTEN (into mic)\n We are receiving your signal.\n Please acknowledge ours. What is\n your position? When do you expect\n to arrive Howland?\n No answer. Light static.\n\n BELLARTS\n Commander estimated 7:00. If she's\n having trouble on voice\n transmission, stay with Morse.\n And begins to carefully pack his pipe. Dalten begins to", " 121.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 111 111\n\n INT. RADIO ROOM, ITASCA - NIGHT\n\n The room is 9 x 20 with bare walls. At the transmitter, LEO\n BELLARTS the chief radio man. Short and square, an\n unflappable air of quiet expertise. With him, his assistant\n WILLIAM DALTEN, lean and young with dark serious eyes. At", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", "er?\n\n BELLARTS\n Cipriani reports the battery's\n dead, sir. It was left on all\n night.\n Full beat.\n THOMPSON (low)\n I don't believe this is happening.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 8:12 A.M.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Itasca to Earhart. Did you get\n transmission on", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "GLE. Two alone. Only each other.\n\n \n\n \n\n EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - DAY\n\n\n 90 90\n LONG ANGLE. From the open door of a hangar we see Amelia and\n George facing reporters in front of the idling Electra. She\n sits on the wing, he's just beneath her.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The radio problems crept up on us\n ver time.\n\n", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "reach you by radio. We are flying\n t altitude 1000 feet.\n DALTEN (into mic)\n You are reaching us. We are\n sending on 3105 and 500 constantly.\n Please acknowledge.\n Massive BURST of static. Dalten frantically CLICKING a\n message in Morse Code. DISSOLVE TO...\n\n S\n\n UPERIMPOSE: 7:58 A.M.\n ", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n " ], [ "\n silently, watching as...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 7:42 A.M.\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We must be\n on you but cannot see you...\n Glances are traded. It is the first moment of visible\n concern. STATIC interrupts. Then...\n\n AMELIA (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Gas is running low. Been unable to\n ", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "EARHART (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We received\n your signal, but unable to get a\n minimum. Please take bearing on\n us and answer 3105 with voice.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Your signal received okay. It is\n impractical to take a bearing on\n 3105 on your voice. Give us a\n longer signal, please. Go ahead.\n Silence. Feet are shifting. ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", "3105. She said\n `cloudy and overcast.'\n O'Hare looks at him. Are you serious? Bellarts mimes typing\n with his fingers. O'Hare starts typing into the log.\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 3:45 A.M.\n Radio CRACKLES. All eyes turn.\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n Itasca from Earhart. Overcast.\n ", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "more powerful plane\n than anything she's flown. We're\n thinking the Lockheed Vega.\n The girl's shock. He really means this.\n\n ELINOR\n Sir, I've test piloted the Vega.\n It's way more than she could ever\n handle. It wouldn't be safe, let\n alone successful.\n He smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n That's why I'm thinking of you\n flying with her.", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Itasca\n had been anchored off Howland just\n for us.\n CLOSE on the ITASCA now...\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n Its radio would be her lifeline.\n Its black plume of smoke would\n reach for miles. More visible than\n the island itself.\n DISSOLVE TO NIGHT. The", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "\n Queen of the Skies.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I had a call from the Byrds.\n They've asked us to dinner\n Thursday.\n\n AMELIA\n Thursday, I'll be in Boston.\n Meeting Gene Vidal and Paul\n Collins.\n Said lightly. Not even looking at him. While through the\n glass, it's become quite a tussle.\n\n GEORGE\n Don", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "The room has nearly filled. COMMANDER THOMPSON stands at\n Bellart's shoulder. All eyes fixed on the radio...\n\n EARHART (O.S.)\n We are circling but cannot hear\n you. Go ahead on 7500.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Itasca to KHAQQ. Your signal is\n strong. Are you receiving this?\n A breathless moment. A sharp CRACKLE.\n\n ", "has said, it\n would be a shining adventure,\n beckoning with new experiences.\n Making me more useful to the\n program here at Purdue.\n She looks into the eyes of each in turn...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n It is much more. I believe that\n women should do for themselves what\n men have done - and occasionally\n what men have not.\n Yes?\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n This might", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n" ], [ "The room has nearly filled. COMMANDER THOMPSON stands at\n Bellart's shoulder. All eyes fixed on the radio...\n\n EARHART (O.S.)\n We are circling but cannot hear\n you. Go ahead on 7500.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Itasca to KHAQQ. Your signal is\n strong. Are you receiving this?\n A breathless moment. A sharp CRACKLE.\n\n ", "EARHART (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We received\n your signal, but unable to get a\n minimum. Please take bearing on\n us and answer 3105 with voice.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Your signal received okay. It is\n impractical to take a bearing on\n 3105 on your voice. Give us a\n longer signal, please. Go ahead.\n Silence. Feet are shifting. ", "phone. We are about\n 100 miles out.\n The transmission cuts out. Dalten answers in Morse Code. No\n response.\n\n DALTEN\n She's got to stay on longer.\n Bellarts dictating as O'Hare types...\n\n BELLARTS\n Earhart signal strength 4, but on\n\n A\n ir so briefly bearings impossible.\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE", "3105. She said\n `cloudy and overcast.'\n O'Hare looks at him. Are you serious? Bellarts mimes typing\n with his fingers. O'Hare starts typing into the log.\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 3:45 A.M.\n Radio CRACKLES. All eyes turn.\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n Itasca from Earhart. Overcast.\n ", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "7500 and we do not\n hear you on 500. Please answer on\n 500. Go ahead.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 8:44 A.M.\n Suddenly, a thin and anxious VOICE cuts through a burst of\n static... A\n\n MELIA (O.S.)\n We are on the line of position 157-\n 337, will repeat this message on\n ", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", "\n silently, watching as...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: 7:42 A.M.\n\n AMELIA (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We must be\n on you but cannot see you...\n Glances are traded. It is the first moment of visible\n concern. STATIC interrupts. Then...\n\n AMELIA (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Gas is running low. Been unable to\n ", "to a stop, the crowd BREAKS THROUGH police\n lines and SURGES toward the plane.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Then, the first human to solo from\n California to Mexico City. Followed\n by her daring solo across the Gulf.\n As she passed over Washington,\n D.C., she eclipsed the time of a\n certain previous flight, from 27\n hours to 13 hours.\n ", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "UT between the cockpit and the runway as the\n Electra...\n ...CAREENS MADLY for a thousand feet, Amelia CUTTING THE\n SWITCHES to the engines, fighting for control, PROPELLERS\n SMASHED by the concrete runway, SPARKS FLYING IN EVERY\n\n DIRECTION...\n INTERCUT. Oakland Airport. George and his retinue waiting.\n A phone RINGING. Someone takes the call, his face freezes,\n\n .\n he looks", "\n her. She asked to come be with me.\n But I insisted she stay there, to\n keep on schedule for her flight.\n He reaches into the box...\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n So many treasures lost. Letters\n and poems she'd written. I poured\n through the rubble...\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. LOS ANGELES HOME - DAY\n\n\n 70 70\n Amelia curled up", "\n couldn't get the thing in the air\n and had to row.\n She walks briskly down the corridor.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n The fuel was going to be so close,\n every single mile counted.\n Turns a corner. Approaches the dining room door.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George told me to keep to my room,\n just in case there was a reporter\n or two somewhere.\n She enters the", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n " ], [ "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", "\n And, for that. I'm grateful.\n\n \n\n \n\n 88 88\n\n EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - DAY - NEWSREEL FOOTAGE\n\n Amelia and George crossing the tarmac from the Electra,\n waving to the crowd.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n The legendary Amelia Earhart lands\n in Miami, completing the first and\n easiest leg of her around-the-world\n", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is" ], [ "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "\n And, for that. I'm grateful.\n\n \n\n \n\n 88 88\n\n EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - DAY - NEWSREEL FOOTAGE\n\n Amelia and George crossing the tarmac from the Electra,\n waving to the crowd.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n The legendary Amelia Earhart lands\n in Miami, completing the first and\n easiest leg of her around-the-world\n", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", "\n\n GORE\n So you'd be the first one, right?\n ou always like that.\n First one?\n\n GORE (CONT'D)\n To fly around the world.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, there's Magellan, 400 years\n go. Actually, he didn't make it.\n And he died. And he used a boat.\n\n GORE\n So it's almost the same, except\n ", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for", "...\n\n \n\n \n\n 17 17\n\n INT. SMALL HOTEL, NEWFOUNDLAND - MORNING\n\n Amelia alone, leaving her hotel room in her flight jacket.\n Locking the door.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: FIRST STOP: CANADA\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n Our first hop was to Canada, to\n start from as close as we could get\n to Ireland. Just in case we" ], [ ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", "\n\n 42.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ELINOR\n Well, actually Mr. Putnam, I was\n hoping you could do to me what\n you've done to her.\n Inadvertently, her eyes flick to the bedroom door. Catching\n this, our couple shares a dry smile. The kid sees that. Uh-\n oh.\n\n ELINOR (CONT'D)\n What I mean is. It's a good thing", ", pouring\n through a small stack of volumes. As if preparing for an\n exam.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS PUBLISHING CO. 1928.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The waiting made her furious.\n She undoubtedly felt I was\n\n E\n stablishing my dominance and\n importance.\n She doesn't look furious at all. Thumbing through WE by", " I think it would be huge for women\n flyers if Amelia won the Derby.\n The publicity would put the race,\n and all of you, up there with the\n boys.\n\n \n\n 47.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ELINOR\n I'm not sure she has much of a\n chance, Mr. Putnam.\n\n GEORGE\n Well, the one shot would be putting\n her in a far", "moving her body into the new pose. Tilting her head to\n Lindbergh's angle.\n\n MELIA (V.O.)\n I wondered. Was I Mr. Putnam's\n 43rd mouse? Or his 307th.\n Now touching her, adjusting her coat, fluffing a bit of her\n hair, pulling the collar around to frame her face...\n\n G\n\n EORGE\n he more we can make you look\n like a girl,", "encourage other women\n toward greater independence of\n thought and action. And I know how\n deeply you gentlemen desire that.\n There is gentle laughter. Amelia reacts in mock surprise.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I know, of course, from my chats\n earlier in the evening. With each\n of your wives.\n More laughter. Applause from a wife, then the others, then\n all.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n", "has said, it\n would be a shining adventure,\n beckoning with new experiences.\n Making me more useful to the\n program here at Purdue.\n She looks into the eyes of each in turn...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n It is much more. I believe that\n women should do for themselves what\n men have done - and occasionally\n what men have not.\n Yes?\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n This might", "\n\n\n 37 37\n A women's college. The hall is packed.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The lecture and publicity schedule\n was fierce. I was with her pretty\n much all the time.\n Amelia and George alone in the wings.\n\n \n\n 39.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n This was the moment of", "CER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The second human to fly the\n Atlantic solo, she is the only one\n ever to fly it twice. And she set\n the record, man or woman, for the\n fastest crossing. Fourteen hours\n 54 minutes.\n As she waves to the crowd...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Now it's America's turn to show our\n girl what we think of her!\n\n ", "'s true.\n\n AMELIA\n And when were you going to tell me?\n GEORGE (calm, straight)\n Never. I knew you'd go crazy. And\n I felt it needed to be done.\n She can scarcely believe this.\n\n AMELIA\n What? You think I wanted it done,\n but just let you do the dirty work?\n\n GEORGE\n I didn't say that.\n\n ", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "leaning her sultry voice to the\n mikes...\n\n MABEL\n Well, how would any woman feel\n about some tart who steals her man?\n Reporters furiously writing, more flashes EXPLODE.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Bill Stultz and I were going to\n make history together, until this\n poor little social worker and her\n sugar daddy, oh excuse me,\n `publisher,' started throwing money\n and I don't", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", "Amelia, her troubled face. The folded newspaper in her\n hand.\n\n \n\n G\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n W\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n W\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 62.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n AMELIA (reads)\n `Only an average flyer, she has\n pushed herself to the front by\n following the tactics", "CHEERS.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Here's the gold medal run of the\n world's best woman athlete,\n abe Didrickson. Cheered on by\n the most celebrated woman of\n today...\n TIGHT INSERT of Amelia with Gene and 8-year-old GORE, all\n applauding excitedly.\n\n \n\n G\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "\n She can't smile anymore. Because this is the very fear she\n lives with.\n\n GENE (CONT'D)\n And the beast always needs\n something larger, greater, more\n daring...\n AMELIA (quiet)\n He costs money, too.\n\n GENE\n The price of fame, literally. Do\n you and George talk about this?\n Silence.\n\n AMELIA\n We don't have", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "WIDEN ANGLE. George kneeling beside her. Happily planting\n his own.\n\n GEORGE\n Really.\n\n AMELIA\n Mmm-hmmn. I was braced for the\n lecture. Five years since\n Lindbergh, no one's made it solo,\n so many of them died.\n He looks at her work. Reaches over. Starts packing the\n earth HARDER around her plant. She just watches, then...", "\n A gutsy gal who rode a bobsled in\n he Winter Olympics, spent hours\n each morning on horseback, and\n carried a pistol on car trips.\n She possessed boundless energy, a\n towering intellect...\n ...we reveal Amelia in a formal satin dress at her side,\n dishing with the First Lady like the closest of girlfriends.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...and was Amelia's idol. As it\n ", "'s a little too much cheesecake for her taste.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. RECEPTION AREA, PUTNAM'S - DAY\n\n\n 43 43\n The crowded waiting room. We CLOSE on a young woman we\n scarcely recognize. It is Elinor. Though less than a year\n has passed, she seems much older. Sophisticated, poised.\n ANGLE. A secretary leads Elinor down the corridor to\n George's office. As they" ], [ "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "to a stop, the crowd BREAKS THROUGH police\n lines and SURGES toward the plane.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Then, the first human to solo from\n California to Mexico City. Followed\n by her daring solo across the Gulf.\n As she passed over Washington,\n D.C., she eclipsed the time of a\n certain previous flight, from 27\n hours to 13 hours.\n ", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", " Aviation is clear today for the\n pioneer. And if the pioneer has\n good ideas nobody will ask whether\n P the pioneer is a man or woman.\n olite applause. Mostly from women. She looks around the\n room.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I hear your doubt. That doubt is\n our challenge. This is where our\n Atlantic flight, or any other good\n flight by a woman can help...\n She nods. ", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "CER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The second human to fly the\n Atlantic solo, she is the only one\n ever to fly it twice. And she set\n the record, man or woman, for the\n fastest crossing. Fourteen hours\n 54 minutes.\n As she waves to the crowd...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Now it's America's turn to show our\n girl what we think of her!\n\n ", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", " She wasn't joking at all.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n You'll make it. And then you'll\n have opportunities to work in\n aviation. Anywhere you want.\n She laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, I'll have impressive\n credentials as a long-distance\n passenger. That's not exactly a\n career in aviation.\n She looks up at his eyes.\n\n I AMELIA (CONT'", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for" ], [ "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "You could handle\n the cross-country flying, the more\n difficult bits, and I'd pay you $75\n a week.\n Elinor WHISTLES low.\n\n ELINOR\n Well, I think that's the most\n generous opportunity I've ever\n been offered.\n He stares at her.\n\n GEORGE\n There's just one thing. Obviously,\n it has to appear that Amelia did\n all the flying. So when pictures", "the\n fact that I need money to live.\n And to keep financing my flying,\n which is what I love. I think\n that's a positive example for\n women.\n Third finger. Three...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm not doing this as a scientist.\n I'm a flyer, boys, pursuing my\n passion. For the fun of it. The\n fun of it. Something I recommend\n as a healthy motive for", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", " You don't read the papers?\n\n AMELIA\n Not unless someone makes me.\n\n GENE\n Well, someone should. Because\n they're all saying you took\n recklessly dangerous solo flights\n for no earthly purpose except\n publicity. Meaning, money.\n Dead. Silence. G\n\n ENE (CONT'D)\n They also harp on a growing list\n of products that you commercially\n endorse.\n", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "\n\n AMELIA\n Has to be. Competition, you know.\n Millionaire heiresses, hot shot\n girl pilots. If George knew I told\n you, he'd have me publicly flogged.\n\n \n She looks over.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n So long as he could sell tickets.\n He's not smiling.\n\n S", " She wasn't joking at all.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n You'll make it. And then you'll\n have opportunities to work in\n aviation. Anywhere you want.\n She laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, I'll have impressive\n credentials as a long-distance\n passenger. That's not exactly a\n career in aviation.\n She looks up at his eyes.\n\n I AMELIA (CONT'", "\n couldn't get the thing in the air\n and had to row.\n She walks briskly down the corridor.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n The fuel was going to be so close,\n every single mile counted.\n Turns a corner. Approaches the dining room door.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George told me to keep to my room,\n just in case there was a reporter\n or two somewhere.\n She enters the", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V." ], [ "brown suit. They head down\n the corridor.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I knew, of course, that he wasn't\n going to choose me. I had no\n discernible qualifications\n whatsoever.\n They reach the door, already ajar. It says GEORGE PALMER\n PUTNAM on a small bronze plate. The secretary gingerly\n pushes it open...\n ...revealing George on the phone in crisp sh", "too.\n\n \n\n \n\n 36 36\n\n EXT. PUTNAM HOME, RYE, NEW YORK - DAY\n\n Amelia in a sunlit garden ringed by trees. She sits at a\n folding table, writing longhand. A large dog lies at her\n feet.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n So they took me home with them to\n Rye. And I lived there, while I\n wrote my book.\n ", " 56\n Arms folded, George stares out his window. He hasn't slept\n or eaten. PAN to his desk. The phone is OFF the hook. The\n door opens softly...\n\n SECRETARY (O.S.)\n Mr. Putnam? Line three.\n He turns and looks at her. The girl's eyes go down and he\n BOLTS to the phone, SNATCHES the receiver, SLAMS the\n button...\n GEORGE (into", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", "extraordinary\n credentials include...\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n \n\n \n\n EXT. PUTNAM HOME, RYE - EVENING\n\n\n 66 66\n A taxi slowly pulls up to the home we know. Warmly lit,\n music playing from within. Gene climbs from the cab, as yard\n lights go ON.\n As Gene starts up the path, the front door opens and Amelia\n BURSTS into the night, RUNNING to", "have\n expected nothing less. You want\n a tip?\n\n ELINOR\n I do.\n\n AMELIA\n Keep doing what you're doing.\n The girl nods, seriously. Okay.\n\n A\n\n MELIA (CONT'D)\n And don't let anyone turn you\n around.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. PUTNAM HOUSE - CHRISTMAS DAY\n\n\n 39", "'s a little too much cheesecake for her taste.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. RECEPTION AREA, PUTNAM'S - DAY\n\n\n 43 43\n The crowded waiting room. We CLOSE on a young woman we\n scarcely recognize. It is Elinor. Though less than a year\n has passed, she seems much older. Sophisticated, poised.\n ANGLE. A secretary leads Elinor down the corridor to\n George's office. As they", "NIGHT\n\n PAN the dark, elegant restaurant. In a corner by the fire-\n place, Amelia and her dinner companions are being served\n lobsters. GENE VIDAL leans to Amelia as he speaks, and she\n hangs on every word.\n\n GENE\n Transcontinental was too ambitious.\n Too many hops, too tough on the\n ladies. But the shuttle...\n A lean athlete's body, easy grace in every movement.\n Strikingly handsome features that convey not only", "\n\n 42.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ELINOR\n Well, actually Mr. Putnam, I was\n hoping you could do to me what\n you've done to her.\n Inadvertently, her eyes flick to the bedroom door. Catching\n this, our couple shares a dry smile. The kid sees that. Uh-\n oh.\n\n ELINOR (CONT'D)\n What I mean is. It's a good thing", "\n t.\n LATER. Amelia alone. Six pages written by her side. Still\n working, as a rowboat pulls up. Bill stands in the bow.\n Calls to her...\n\n BILL\n Mr. Putnam phoned. He says there's\n fella coming from London. Hilton\n Railey.\n\n \n\n 32.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA\n Oh, yeh. Very important man", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "98\n A fountain in an ornate courtyard. There is a RECEPTION, as\n every evening for Amelia, attended by local DIGNITARIES.\n Fred, already a little drunk, leads Amelia to a massive teak-\n wood table. He breaks off the corner of a cracker, sets it\n down in the center of the table.\n\n FRED\n Howland Island.\n He strikes a match. SNUFFS the flame. Puts the burned-out\n match head just by the scrap of", ", pouring\n through a small stack of volumes. As if preparing for an\n exam.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS PUBLISHING CO. 1928.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The waiting made her furious.\n She undoubtedly felt I was\n\n E\n stablishing my dominance and\n importance.\n She doesn't look furious at all. Thumbing through WE by", "\n haven't soured you on the\n enterprise. May I give you a lift\n to the station?\n Amelia rises. Is she pissed at being toyed with?\n\n AMELIA\n You're a busy man, Mr. Putnam. I\n can find my way.\n The look holds. He shrugs. You probably can.\n\n \n\n 8.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 4 ", " Today, we proudly announce an\n appointment critical to America's\n commerce, and to its role as\n technology's leader in the\n Twentieth Century.\n PAN to Gene at his side. Sober. Distinguished. Proud.\n\n ROOSEVELT (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n\n G\n ene Vidal is an obvious and\n perfect choice as our first\n Director of Commerce's Aeronautics\n Branch. His", "\n I'd kept her waiting two hours.\n\n T\n She hated me on sight, but she\n hought I couldn't tell.\n His gaze drifts to a bookcase crammed with volumes. And one\n object, oddly out of place. A stuffed CAT, with boots and a\n green frock coat. It wears a confident ironic smile.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n She was a person who cherished her\n privacy and was devoting her life\n ", "'s true.\n\n AMELIA\n And when were you going to tell me?\n GEORGE (calm, straight)\n Never. I knew you'd go crazy. And\n I felt it needed to be done.\n She can scarcely believe this.\n\n AMELIA\n What? You think I wanted it done,\n but just let you do the dirty work?\n\n GEORGE\n I didn't say that.\n\n ", "\n Queen of the Skies.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I had a call from the Byrds.\n They've asked us to dinner\n Thursday.\n\n AMELIA\n Thursday, I'll be in Boston.\n Meeting Gene Vidal and Paul\n Collins.\n Said lightly. Not even looking at him. While through the\n glass, it's become quite a tussle.\n\n GEORGE\n Don", ". A waiter leads Amelia to\n the table. George stands, smiling. But the smile is not\n returned. We CLOSE as they sit...\n\n GEORGE\n\n A\n hat's wrong?\n MELIA (clearly furious)\n What could be wrong? I had such a\n lovely afternoon with Elinor Smith.\n Oh.\n\n GEORGE\n he told you that I shut her out of\n the Derby. And that", "PULL BACK to see our view has been George's. He sits at an\n antique writing desk, watching her through a picture window.\n He rises slowly. We see that he has been reviewing a\n CONTRACT, which he takes with him.\n\n A\n NGLE. Amelia writing, looking up to see George coming down\n the back porch steps to the garden.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I thought he'd be a tyrant and that\n I" ], [ " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", " You don't read the papers?\n\n AMELIA\n Not unless someone makes me.\n\n GENE\n Well, someone should. Because\n they're all saying you took\n recklessly dangerous solo flights\n for no earthly purpose except\n publicity. Meaning, money.\n Dead. Silence. G\n\n ENE (CONT'D)\n They also harp on a growing list\n of products that you commercially\n endorse.\n", "more powerful plane\n than anything she's flown. We're\n thinking the Lockheed Vega.\n The girl's shock. He really means this.\n\n ELINOR\n Sir, I've test piloted the Vega.\n It's way more than she could ever\n handle. It wouldn't be safe, let\n alone successful.\n He smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n That's why I'm thinking of you\n flying with her.", "Amy. Amelia steps to\n the microphones...\n\n AMELIA\n I was a passenger on this journey.\n Just a passenger. Everything that\n was done to bring us across was\n done by Wilmer Stultz and Slim\n Gordon. All the praise...\n\n REPORTER\n (calls out)\n But you can fly, can't you?\n Amelia stares at the man. Conflicting agendas.\n\n AMELI", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "Keeps eating.\n\n ELEANOR (CONT'D)\n I did ask about aviation, but he\n hasn't decided on the structure\n yet. It might be under the Bureau\n f Commerce.\n\n AMELIA\n I think the structure may be less\n important than the man chosen to\n run it.\n Said casually, looking at her plate.\n\n ELEANOR\n My hearing is failing. I missed\n the words `or woman,' which you", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "DOR AIRLINER - LATER\n\n Raucous party in the small cabin, hosted by George and fueled\n\n .\n by champagne. PAN slowly to...\n ..the cockpit. Amelia at the controls in her evening dress\n and formal gloves. Eleanor in the co-pilot's seat, awestruck\n by the brilliant starry night. Amelia glances over, moved by\n her friend's almost childlike wonder.\n AMELIA (softly)\n Put" ], [ " reverse my route and fly east. If\n go west now, I'm risking\n hurricanes in the Caribbean and\n monsoons in Africa...\n\n GENE\n But you're flying Howland last,\n when you're exhausted.\n She knows this. In the silence...\n\n G\n\n EORGE\n Gene, this way our first leg is\n Oakland to Miami. It's a shakedown\n o make sure the plane is right", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "...\n\n \n\n \n\n 17 17\n\n INT. SMALL HOTEL, NEWFOUNDLAND - MORNING\n\n Amelia alone, leaving her hotel room in her flight jacket.\n Locking the door.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: FIRST STOP: CANADA\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n Our first hop was to Canada, to\n start from as close as we could get\n to Ireland. Just in case we", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", ", I\n hadn't changed my mind.\n She LIFTS the nose of the tiny craft. Begins to CLIMB.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I even had my own plane. Bought\n with my last dime.\n At the apex of her climb, she FLIPS into a breathtaking LOOP\n THE LOOP, as...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n Course in the early", "\n And, for that. I'm grateful.\n\n \n\n \n\n 88 88\n\n EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - DAY - NEWSREEL FOOTAGE\n\n Amelia and George crossing the tarmac from the Electra,\n waving to the crowd.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n The legendary Amelia Earhart lands\n in Miami, completing the first and\n easiest leg of her around-the-world\n", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for", "more powerful plane\n than anything she's flown. We're\n thinking the Lockheed Vega.\n The girl's shock. He really means this.\n\n ELINOR\n Sir, I've test piloted the Vega.\n It's way more than she could ever\n handle. It wouldn't be safe, let\n alone successful.\n He smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n That's why I'm thinking of you\n flying with her.", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME" ], [ "EARHART (O.S.)\n KHAQQ calling Itasca. We received\n your signal, but unable to get a\n minimum. Please take bearing on\n us and answer 3105 with voice.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Your signal received okay. It is\n impractical to take a bearing on\n 3105 on your voice. Give us a\n longer signal, please. Go ahead.\n Silence. Feet are shifting. ", "\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Itasca\n had been anchored off Howland just\n for us.\n CLOSE on the ITASCA now...\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n Its radio would be her lifeline.\n Its black plume of smoke would\n reach for miles. More visible than\n the island itself.\n DISSOLVE TO NIGHT. The", "phone. We are about\n 100 miles out.\n The transmission cuts out. Dalten answers in Morse Code. No\n response.\n\n DALTEN\n She's got to stay on longer.\n Bellarts dictating as O'Hare types...\n\n BELLARTS\n Earhart signal strength 4, but on\n\n A\n ir so briefly bearings impossible.\n\n DISSOLVE TO...\n\n SUPERIMPOSE", "The room has nearly filled. COMMANDER THOMPSON stands at\n Bellart's shoulder. All eyes fixed on the radio...\n\n EARHART (O.S.)\n We are circling but cannot hear\n you. Go ahead on 7500.\n BELLARTS (into mic)\n Itasca to KHAQQ. Your signal is\n strong. Are you receiving this?\n A breathless moment. A sharp CRACKLE.\n\n ", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", " receiver.\n The young man looks concerned.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n Just tell him to stay with voice.\n He'll get them.\n\n \n\n \n\n 108 A 108\n\n EXT. HOWLAND ISLAND - DAY\n\n ERIAL ANGLE. A tiny, flat, nearly invisible speck adrift in\n the endless Pacific. Howland Island. PAN to see just\n offshore...", "t be so proud\n of it.\n He reaches into a pocket. Pulls out a folded sheet of paper.\n It opens to reveal a MAP of the Pacific. A dot is CIRCLED in\n red.\n\n GENE (CONT'D)\n This is Howland Island. It's half-\n way between Honolulu and New\n Guinea. It has no elevation, no\n trees, it's a mile wide and a mile\n and a half long. Hardly anyone\n ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", " reverse my route and fly east. If\n go west now, I'm risking\n hurricanes in the Caribbean and\n monsoons in Africa...\n\n GENE\n But you're flying Howland last,\n when you're exhausted.\n She knows this. In the silence...\n\n G\n\n EORGE\n Gene, this way our first leg is\n Oakland to Miami. It's a shakedown\n o make sure the plane is right", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "cockpit. He checks a\n gauge.\n\n FRED\n Lovely. We've got so much fuel we\n can't possibly get off the ground.\n Much safer than flying.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, we need enough for a third\n pass at Howland. After you miss it\n the first couple times around.\n Ah.\n\n FRED\n Good thinking.\n he runway lights go ON, and...\n\n GE", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "phone)\n Putnam.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n A full beat.\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n Sir, this is Douglas McGuire of the\n Press Association. I'm sorry to\n tell you that Miss Earhart's plane\n has crashed in a field, short of\n Le Bourget airport.\n\n SMASH CUT TO...\n\n \n\n \n\n ", "the sea, as a stray thought transforms her.\n Something fierce lives there.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LAE, NEW GUINEA - 1937.\n\n FRED (O.S.)\n Sure I can't talk you inta\n somethin' more adventurous?\n She turns. FRED NOONAN is tall and lean, ruggedly handsome\n in a reckless way. His flight clothes as rumpled and dirt-\n streaked as her own. He carries his", "98\n A fountain in an ornate courtyard. There is a RECEPTION, as\n every evening for Amelia, attended by local DIGNITARIES.\n Fred, already a little drunk, leads Amelia to a massive teak-\n wood table. He breaks off the corner of a cracker, sets it\n down in the center of the table.\n\n FRED\n Howland Island.\n He strikes a match. SNUFFS the flame. Puts the burned-out\n match head just by the scrap of" ], [ " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "the sea, as a stray thought transforms her.\n Something fierce lives there.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LAE, NEW GUINEA - 1937.\n\n FRED (O.S.)\n Sure I can't talk you inta\n somethin' more adventurous?\n She turns. FRED NOONAN is tall and lean, ruggedly handsome\n in a reckless way. His flight clothes as rumpled and dirt-\n streaked as her own. He carries his", "says that. Evaluating.\n\n AMELIA\n Even with cloud cover?\n\n FRED\n I've crossed the Pacific by air 18\n times. Pan Am told you I'm the\n best celestial navigator they've\n ever seen.\n\n AMELIA\n They did.\n\n FRED\n Someone else told you I have a\n drinking problem. Which is a big\n art of why we're here,", "cracker.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n B\n lack smoke from the Navy ship that\n could help us get a fix.\n Points way across the marble courtyard.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Now stand over there. That's what\n it's going to look like, if the\n weather's good.\n\n SERVANT (O.S.)\n Mrs. Earhart?\n She glances up. He be", "\n\n GENE\n I'd appreciate that.\n Draws a breath.\n\n GENE (CONT'D)\n You miss that island. You'll be\n out of fuel, with 2000 miles to go.\n\n AMELIA\n But I'll have Fred so I won't miss.\n In fact, I'm taking Fred along for\n this whole trip.\n Surprisingly, he doesn't seem to like this. She smiles.\n\n", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "cockpit. He checks a\n gauge.\n\n FRED\n Lovely. We've got so much fuel we\n can't possibly get off the ground.\n Much safer than flying.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, we need enough for a third\n pass at Howland. After you miss it\n the first couple times around.\n Ah.\n\n FRED\n Good thinking.\n he runway lights go ON, and...\n\n GE", "\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA\n Fred is fine. He's calculating\n head-wind speed versus fuel as we\n speak.\n CLOSE on his face.\n\n GEORGE\n You wouldn't sell a salesman would\n you?\n\n AMELIA\n He's fine.\n\n GEORGE\n So what's that I hear in your\n voice?\n A beat.\n", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "28, he seems weathered by his adventures\n and the streaks of gray through his hair. He is not\n necessarily happy to see us.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George had told me Stultz was Adm.\n Byrd's favorite pilot, fearless,\n gifted. He drank. But George said\n it never affected his work.\n George waves as we approach. Bill and Amelia seem locked on\n each other.\n\n AMELIA (V.O", "\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n F\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 110.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n FRED\n\n US NAVIGATORS PREFER THE TERM `WILD-\n\n ASS GUESS.'\n Held look.\n\n AMELIA\n That's more like it.\n She starts to TURN the plane", "PORT - NIGHT\n\n he heavy door rolls OPEN. George and Amelia enter the\n brightly-lit hangar to see two men working on the FRIENDSHIP,\n a sea-plane with golden wings. Its red-orange fuselage\n stands beside gigantic PONTOONS, each 29 feet long. The\n pontoons have been opened, and the men are attaching them to\n the plane.\n They turn toward us now. BILL STULTZ is short and wiry with\n quick eyes. Only ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "yes?\n No answer.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Pan Am will tell you. Everyone I\n ver worked for will tell you.\n Nothing's interfered with my\n performance. Not once.\n\n AMELIA\n My dad drank. He lied all the\n time. Rest his soul.\n\n FRED\n You trusted Bill Stultz. That\n worked out. Rest his soul.\n\n AMELIA\n Bill just had", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "ening, actually STRIPPING PAINT from the\n Electra's wings.\n\n \n\n \n\n 95 95\n\n INT. ELECTRA - SAME MOMENT\n\n Amelia beyond exhaustion, but focused, fighting it. We think\n she's flying alone. Until...\n ...Fred drops into the seat beside her. No words as he\n watches her struggle. Our plane is all over the sky. The\n DIN is ungodly.\n\n AMELIA", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "ILL\n Have a nice flight.\n\n AMELIA\n Thanks.\n She motions to Slim, get on board. The navigator grins,\n starts to climb up, looking back at Bill...\n\n SLIM\n Hey, I'm scared shitless of this\n dame.\n She climbs up after him. One look back...\n\n AMELIA\n Read tomorrow's papers, Bill.\n We'll both be in them.\n And" ], [ "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this,", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", ".) (CONT'D)\n When he said it, I must have had a\n funny look. So I just said, `Yeh,\n I grew up around a guy like that.'\n\n GEORGE\n Boys, I'd like to introduce your\n commander, Miss Amelia Earhart.\n\n AMELIA\n We felt `commander' was less\n grandiose than, say, `empress.'\n Bill doesn't smile. The other man does...", " G\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 76.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n ...that's right, Amelia Earhart.\n Hollywood glamor, American winners,\n and wait til our boys warm up for\n their action.\n The camera lingers as Amelia says something to Gore. They\n look like a family.\n\n \n\n ", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "INT. HOTEL ROOM, NEWFOUNDLAND - LATER\n\n\n 22 22\n Amelia curled up on her bed with CHARTS of the Atlantic\n spread everywhere. From next door, the sound of drunken men\n\n CONTINUE.\n Amelia looks down from her charts. Her mind going to...\n\n \n\n \n\n FLASHBACK: EXT. HOUSE, ATCHISON, KANSAS - DAY\n\n\n 23 ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "of wills. The\n aircraft SCREAMS past, just above her head.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n As the little red airplane passed\n by, it said something to me.\n Amelia beams. She fills her lungs, transported.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I don't think I've ever stopped\n listening.\n HOLD on her, hair and uniform whipping in the breeze.\n\n S", "\n hat Dorothy had been having a\n torrid affair with Fred Upton.\n Everyone did.\n She steps to the microphone. The crowd quiets.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n But I didn't kiss him because I\n felt sorry for him. Or because\n it would mean the world to him.\n INTERCUT. George in the wings. His heart in his eyes.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "\n\n AMELIA\n Has to be. Competition, you know.\n Millionaire heiresses, hot shot\n girl pilots. If George knew I told\n you, he'd have me publicly flogged.\n\n \n She looks over.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n So long as he could sell tickets.\n He's not smiling.\n\n S", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "has said, it\n would be a shining adventure,\n beckoning with new experiences.\n Making me more useful to the\n program here at Purdue.\n She looks into the eyes of each in turn...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n It is much more. I believe that\n women should do for themselves what\n men have done - and occasionally\n what men have not.\n Yes?\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n This might", "CKHEED ELECTRA, a sleek state-of-the-art aircraft with\n its gleaming metallic surface, nose up in the center of a\n huge space. Its engines are on hoists, being worked on by a\n team of MECHANICS.\n Eight-year-old Gore gazes up, as if he has never seen\n anything quite so wondrous. Amelia and Gene watch, with\n barely suppressed smiles. He's in a suit. She's in grease-\n stained overalls from working with the mechanics." ], [ "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n\n AMELIA\n Has to be. Competition, you know.\n Millionaire heiresses, hot shot\n girl pilots. If George knew I told\n you, he'd have me publicly flogged.\n\n \n She looks over.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n So long as he could sell tickets.\n He's not smiling.\n\n S", " You don't read the papers?\n\n AMELIA\n Not unless someone makes me.\n\n GENE\n Well, someone should. Because\n they're all saying you took\n recklessly dangerous solo flights\n for no earthly purpose except\n publicity. Meaning, money.\n Dead. Silence. G\n\n ENE (CONT'D)\n They also harp on a growing list\n of products that you commercially\n endorse.\n", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", "To them, to herself.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n It starts women thinking.\n\n \n\n \n\n EXT. BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY - DAY\n\n\n 34 34\n Ticker tape PARADE down Broadway, crowds lining the streets,\n leaning from windows to welcome Amelia home.\n\n UPERIMPOSE: NEW YORK CITY\n Amelia sits in an open car between Bill and Slim, WAVING", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", ".) (CONT'D)\n When he said it, I must have had a\n funny look. So I just said, `Yeh,\n I grew up around a guy like that.'\n\n GEORGE\n Boys, I'd like to introduce your\n commander, Miss Amelia Earhart.\n\n AMELIA\n We felt `commander' was less\n grandiose than, say, `empress.'\n Bill doesn't smile. The other man does...", "\n anywhere near the group that would\n be considered for this. If the\n woman were to do any flying at all.\n No punches pulled. Not his style.\n\n AMELIA\n Why would anyone want a book from a\n passenger?\n\n GEORGE\n Because the hook is that we're\n making the woman the commander.\n The pilot will sign a contract\n saying he is under her direction\n and control. It's her ship, her\n ", "Amelia, her troubled face. The folded newspaper in her\n hand.\n\n \n\n G\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n W\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n W\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 62.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n AMELIA (reads)\n `Only an average flyer, she has\n pushed herself to the front by\n following the tactics", "28, he seems weathered by his adventures\n and the streaks of gray through his hair. He is not\n necessarily happy to see us.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George had told me Stultz was Adm.\n Byrd's favorite pilot, fearless,\n gifted. He drank. But George said\n it never affected his work.\n George waves as we approach. Bill and Amelia seem locked on\n each other.\n\n AMELIA (V.O", "published over her name.\n Understood...? G\n\n EORGE (CONT'D)\n But all the money from these will\n go to Mrs. Guest.\n\n AMELIA\n Except for the part that goes to\n you.\n\n GEORGE\n Which will be as great as I can\n manage, I assure you.\n\n AMELIA\n You said she wants a flyer.\n\n GEORGE\n Don'", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "Keeps eating.\n\n ELEANOR (CONT'D)\n I did ask about aviation, but he\n hasn't decided on the structure\n yet. It might be under the Bureau\n f Commerce.\n\n AMELIA\n I think the structure may be less\n important than the man chosen to\n run it.\n Said casually, looking at her plate.\n\n ELEANOR\n My hearing is failing. I missed\n the words `or woman,' which you", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n " ], [ "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", ", she had to use something on\n somebody to get from nowhere to\n here. You figure it out, or wait\n til George Putnam feeds it to you.\n Two dozen questions at once. She's not even listening.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n We're going to Canada, waiting for\n some good weather on the Atlantic,\n and then we'll kick Little Miss\n Whoozis in the keester.\n\n REPORTER\n What makes you so", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "brown suit. They head down\n the corridor.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I knew, of course, that he wasn't\n going to choose me. I had no\n discernible qualifications\n whatsoever.\n They reach the door, already ajar. It says GEORGE PALMER\n PUTNAM on a small bronze plate. The secretary gingerly\n pushes it open...\n ...revealing George on the phone in crisp sh", ", pouring\n through a small stack of volumes. As if preparing for an\n exam.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS PUBLISHING CO. 1928.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The waiting made her furious.\n She undoubtedly felt I was\n\n E\n stablishing my dominance and\n importance.\n She doesn't look furious at all. Thumbing through WE by", "Dorothy and I are through.\n She sits beside him. Very close.\n\n AMELIA\n For a long, long time.\n\n GEORGE\n It's different now.\n She looks at him. Squints. How?\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n Marry me.\n Oh. A breath.\n\n AMELIA\n I can't do that.\n\n GEORGE", "\n\n\n 37 37\n A women's college. The hall is packed.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The lecture and publicity schedule\n was fierce. I was with her pretty\n much all the time.\n Amelia and George alone in the wings.\n\n \n\n 39.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n This was the moment of", "pocket. And\n smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n y Amelia. Brutal in her frank-\n ness. Beautiful in her honesty.\n He steps to her. Looks in her eyes. They kiss.\n\n \n\n \n\n 47 47\n\n INT. PARLOR - LATER\n\n LONG ANGLE. The minister reading the vows. The witnesses\n standing silent. Two black cats rubbing against George's\n ankles.", "'s a little too much cheesecake for her taste.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. RECEPTION AREA, PUTNAM'S - DAY\n\n\n 43 43\n The crowded waiting room. We CLOSE on a young woman we\n scarcely recognize. It is Elinor. Though less than a year\n has passed, she seems much older. Sophisticated, poised.\n ANGLE. A secretary leads Elinor down the corridor to\n George's office. As they", "published over her name.\n Understood...? G\n\n EORGE (CONT'D)\n But all the money from these will\n go to Mrs. Guest.\n\n AMELIA\n Except for the part that goes to\n you.\n\n GEORGE\n Which will be as great as I can\n manage, I assure you.\n\n AMELIA\n You said she wants a flyer.\n\n GEORGE\n Don'", "too.\n\n \n\n \n\n 36 36\n\n EXT. PUTNAM HOME, RYE, NEW YORK - DAY\n\n Amelia in a sunlit garden ringed by trees. She sits at a\n folding table, writing longhand. A large dog lies at her\n feet.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n So they took me home with them to\n Rye. And I lived there, while I\n wrote my book.\n ", "\n UPERIMPOSE: WEDDING DAY. CONNECTICUT, 1931.\n ...her eyes are swimming with tears. She brushes at them.\n Stares down at her work. Continues.\n ANGLE. The parlor. George, his MOTHER, the MINISTER, a\n small number of close FRIENDS. From the doorway, Amelia\n beckons George. The letter is in her hand.\n\n \n\n \n\n EXT. HOME - M", " I think it would be huge for women\n flyers if Amelia won the Derby.\n The publicity would put the race,\n and all of you, up there with the\n boys.\n\n \n\n 47.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ELINOR\n I'm not sure she has much of a\n chance, Mr. Putnam.\n\n GEORGE\n Well, the one shot would be putting\n her in a far", "'s true.\n\n AMELIA\n And when were you going to tell me?\n GEORGE (calm, straight)\n Never. I knew you'd go crazy. And\n I felt it needed to be done.\n She can scarcely believe this.\n\n AMELIA\n What? You think I wanted it done,\n but just let you do the dirty work?\n\n GEORGE\n I didn't say that.\n\n ", "\n Queen of the Skies.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I had a call from the Byrds.\n They've asked us to dinner\n Thursday.\n\n AMELIA\n Thursday, I'll be in Boston.\n Meeting Gene Vidal and Paul\n Collins.\n Said lightly. Not even looking at him. While through the\n glass, it's become quite a tussle.\n\n GEORGE\n Don", "\n A gutsy gal who rode a bobsled in\n he Winter Olympics, spent hours\n each morning on horseback, and\n carried a pistol on car trips.\n She possessed boundless energy, a\n towering intellect...\n ...we reveal Amelia in a formal satin dress at her side,\n dishing with the First Lady like the closest of girlfriends.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...and was Amelia's idol. As it\n ", ".\n\n GEORGE\n I mean an apology. For what's\n coming.\n His voice softens.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm going to be pretty controlling\n these next few months. How you\n dress, move, cut your hair. Speak\n in public. It's all part of the\n package we're selling.\n\n AMELIA\n We.\n\n GEOR", "\n\n INT. GEORGE'S OFFICE, NEW YORK - DUSK\n\n\n 69 69\n CLOSE on George alone in his office. He goes to the door,\n LOCKS it. His face is drawn, grim.\n\n EORGE (V.O.)\n By this time, I had a side job as\n chairman of the editorial board of\n Paramount Pictures. So Amelia and\n I bought a little place in Los\n Angeles.", "PULL BACK to see our view has been George's. He sits at an\n antique writing desk, watching her through a picture window.\n He rises slowly. We see that he has been reviewing a\n CONTRACT, which he takes with him.\n\n A\n NGLE. Amelia writing, looking up to see George coming down\n the back porch steps to the garden.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n I thought he'd be a tyrant and that\n I", " Puts them in George's hand. Straight, unblinking...\n\n AMELIA\n Popping off letters. For my dad,\n my mom, my sis. You know. In\n case.\n\n \n\n 19.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n He stares down. Rocked by the weight of this against the\n simplicity of her words. The top envelope says: DEAREST\n\n DAD.\n\n GEORGE\n " ], [ "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", " Aviation is clear today for the\n pioneer. And if the pioneer has\n good ideas nobody will ask whether\n P the pioneer is a man or woman.\n olite applause. Mostly from women. She looks around the\n room.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I hear your doubt. That doubt is\n our challenge. This is where our\n Atlantic flight, or any other good\n flight by a woman can help...\n She nods. ", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "has said, it\n would be a shining adventure,\n beckoning with new experiences.\n Making me more useful to the\n program here at Purdue.\n She looks into the eyes of each in turn...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n It is much more. I believe that\n women should do for themselves what\n men have done - and occasionally\n what men have not.\n Yes?\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n This might", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "Amy. Amelia steps to\n the microphones...\n\n AMELIA\n I was a passenger on this journey.\n Just a passenger. Everything that\n was done to bring us across was\n done by Wilmer Stultz and Slim\n Gordon. All the praise...\n\n REPORTER\n (calls out)\n But you can fly, can't you?\n Amelia stares at the man. Conflicting agendas.\n\n AMELI", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", "\n\n GORE\n So you'd be the first one, right?\n ou always like that.\n First one?\n\n GORE (CONT'D)\n To fly around the world.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, there's Magellan, 400 years\n go. Actually, he didn't make it.\n And he died. And he used a boat.\n\n GORE\n So it's almost the same, except\n ", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", " She wasn't joking at all.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n You'll make it. And then you'll\n have opportunities to work in\n aviation. Anywhere you want.\n She laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, I'll have impressive\n credentials as a long-distance\n passenger. That's not exactly a\n career in aviation.\n She looks up at his eyes.\n\n I AMELIA (CONT'", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "\n\n AMELIA\n Has to be. Competition, you know.\n Millionaire heiresses, hot shot\n girl pilots. If George knew I told\n you, he'd have me publicly flogged.\n\n \n She looks over.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n So long as he could sell tickets.\n He's not smiling.\n\n S" ], [ "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", " Aviation is clear today for the\n pioneer. And if the pioneer has\n good ideas nobody will ask whether\n P the pioneer is a man or woman.\n olite applause. Mostly from women. She looks around the\n room.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I hear your doubt. That doubt is\n our challenge. This is where our\n Atlantic flight, or any other good\n flight by a woman can help...\n She nods. ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", "to a stop, the crowd BREAKS THROUGH police\n lines and SURGES toward the plane.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Then, the first human to solo from\n California to Mexico City. Followed\n by her daring solo across the Gulf.\n As she passed over Washington,\n D.C., she eclipsed the time of a\n certain previous flight, from 27\n hours to 13 hours.\n ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "because...?\n\n MELIA\n I might fly to Paris.\n Silence.\n\n GEORGE\n Which is actually across the\n Atlantic.\n\n AMELIA\n Hence, the article.\n Ah. He nods.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm thinking of doing it solo.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Would you mind?\n He butters his toast.", " happened, she was obsessed with\n flying, making Amelia her absolute\n heroine. A\n\n MELIA\n So he hasn't actually forbidden\n you.\n\n ELEANOR\n Franklin doesn't forbid. He just\n feels it's a waste of my valuable\n ime to learn. Since I can't\n afford to buy a plane.\n\n \n\n I\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n I", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", "CLES the field as\n FLOOD LIGHTS FLASH ON, and the crowd begins to CHEER. Arcing\n\n A\n in now for a landing. Smooth trajectory.\n\n NNOUNCER (O.S.)\n The odyssey began in Honolulu when\n he became the first person, man\n or woman, to fly solo over half the\n Pacific to California.\n Touching down, the cheering CROWD held back by police. As\n Amelia taxies", "\n couldn't get the thing in the air\n and had to row.\n She walks briskly down the corridor.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n The fuel was going to be so close,\n every single mile counted.\n Turns a corner. Approaches the dining room door.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George told me to keep to my room,\n just in case there was a reporter\n or two somewhere.\n She enters the", " worker like Miss Earhart become\n comfortable as a celebrity so\n quickly?\n George smiles. His eyes still following Amelia.\n\n GEORGE\n The truth is, she was a celebrity\n on smaller stages all her life.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 37.\n GEORGE(cont'd)\n This is just when the rest of us\n discovered her.\n And Dorothy. Watches this," ], [ "\n hat Dorothy had been having a\n torrid affair with Fred Upton.\n Everyone did.\n She steps to the microphone. The crowd quiets.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n But I didn't kiss him because I\n felt sorry for him. Or because\n it would mean the world to him.\n INTERCUT. George in the wings. His heart in his eyes.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)", "28, he seems weathered by his adventures\n and the streaks of gray through his hair. He is not\n necessarily happy to see us.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n George had told me Stultz was Adm.\n Byrd's favorite pilot, fearless,\n gifted. He drank. But George said\n it never affected his work.\n George waves as we approach. Bill and Amelia seem locked on\n each other.\n\n AMELIA (V.O", "explorer\n preparing for his flight over the North Pole. One of Byrd\n with George himself, displaying considerable gravitas.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n I figured he'd be pompous.\n Her eye travels over the stack of books. Adventurers,\n explorers, celebrities. On an end table, a framed photo of\n George with the great Lindbergh.\n A pretty SECRETARY comes to summon her. Amelia rises,\n smooths the wrinkles from her", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", "GE\n Mrs. Earhart? Mr. Earhart, here.\n He looks elegant in crisp suit and tie.\n INTERCUT: Amelia's eyes WIDE. She seems truly thrilled.\n INTERCUT BETWEEN THEM now throughout...\n\n \n\n .\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n R\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n S\n\n T\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "think there's enough of him\n to boss for the two of us?\n Amelia still looking at George. Laughs.\n\n AMELIA\n Barely enough for one.\n A battery of reporters and flashbulbs wait by our motorcade.\n\n REPORTER\n Miss Earhart, can you tell us some-\n thing about your future plans?\n\n S\n he likes this question. Fixes the man with that clear,\n honest gaze.\n\n AME", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", " \n\n 5.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n GEORGE\n Miss Earhart?\n\n AMELIA\n Mr. Putnam?\n GEORGE (softly)\n I asked you to sit.\n\n AMELIA\n Was that the thing you did with\n your hand? Sadly, I don't speak\n dog.\n His smile now only a trace. But more genuine.\n\n G", "\n Queen of the Skies.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I had a call from the Byrds.\n They've asked us to dinner\n Thursday.\n\n AMELIA\n Thursday, I'll be in Boston.\n Meeting Gene Vidal and Paul\n Collins.\n Said lightly. Not even looking at him. While through the\n glass, it's become quite a tussle.\n\n GEORGE\n Don", "\n\n AMELIA\n Has to be. Competition, you know.\n Millionaire heiresses, hot shot\n girl pilots. If George knew I told\n you, he'd have me publicly flogged.\n\n \n She looks over.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n So long as he could sell tickets.\n He's not smiling.\n\n S", ".) (CONT'D)\n When he said it, I must have had a\n funny look. So I just said, `Yeh,\n I grew up around a guy like that.'\n\n GEORGE\n Boys, I'd like to introduce your\n commander, Miss Amelia Earhart.\n\n AMELIA\n We felt `commander' was less\n grandiose than, say, `empress.'\n Bill doesn't smile. The other man does...", "\n A gutsy gal who rode a bobsled in\n he Winter Olympics, spent hours\n each morning on horseback, and\n carried a pistol on car trips.\n She possessed boundless energy, a\n towering intellect...\n ...we reveal Amelia in a formal satin dress at her side,\n dishing with the First Lady like the closest of girlfriends.\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...and was Amelia's idol. As it\n ", "\n labeled `LUCKY LINDY.'\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n THe illusion of activity was\n essential for him to feel at peace.\n The photographer now shows George ANOTHER PHOTO of Lindbergh\n in a different pose.\n\n AMELIA\n What are you boys doing over there?\n\n GEORGE\n Trying to make you look like a\n girl.\n George studies the photo, then goes to Amelia and begins\n ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "PORT - NIGHT\n\n he heavy door rolls OPEN. George and Amelia enter the\n brightly-lit hangar to see two men working on the FRIENDSHIP,\n a sea-plane with golden wings. Its red-orange fuselage\n stands beside gigantic PONTOONS, each 29 feet long. The\n pontoons have been opened, and the men are attaching them to\n the plane.\n They turn toward us now. BILL STULTZ is short and wiry with\n quick eyes. Only ", "this, makes her like them\n both.\n\n GEORGE\n Amelia Earhart, this is Dorothy\n Binney Putnam.\n The women trade smiles. They shake hands, holding eye\n contact.\n\n DOROTHY\n Great to meet you. George talks\n so much about you.\n (a wink)\n In fact, lately, you're all he\n does talk about.\n\n \n George steps in close, and the photographer SN", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n " ], [ "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "\n And, for that. I'm grateful.\n\n \n\n \n\n 88 88\n\n EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - DAY - NEWSREEL FOOTAGE\n\n Amelia and George crossing the tarmac from the Electra,\n waving to the crowd.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n The legendary Amelia Earhart lands\n in Miami, completing the first and\n easiest leg of her around-the-world\n", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "...\n\n \n\n \n\n 17 17\n\n INT. SMALL HOTEL, NEWFOUNDLAND - MORNING\n\n Amelia alone, leaving her hotel room in her flight jacket.\n Locking the door.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: FIRST STOP: CANADA\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n Our first hop was to Canada, to\n start from as close as we could get\n to Ireland. Just in case we", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "\n Perhaps it's for the best.\n Remember, no woman has beat the\n jinx of the Atlantic and three have\n died trying. Including a princess\n and the niece of former President\n Woodrow Wilson.\n The plane's engine SPUTTERS and STALLS. It floats on the\n sea.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n Maybe this one's not to be. Hey,\n Mabel! How's", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "has BUCKLED, the stabilizer BENT, the\n left wing extends UPWARD from scraping the runway, the\n landing gear no longer exists.\n SIRENS SCREAM as fire trucks and ambulances race toward them.\n Amelia is ashen, disbelieving. Next to her, a gentle...\n\n FRED\n Good reaction, cutting the switch.\n You saved our ass.\n She doesn't even hear, THROWING open the cockpit, WAVING to\n signal they're all" ], [ "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "more powerful plane\n than anything she's flown. We're\n thinking the Lockheed Vega.\n The girl's shock. He really means this.\n\n ELINOR\n Sir, I've test piloted the Vega.\n It's way more than she could ever\n handle. It wouldn't be safe, let\n alone successful.\n He smiles.\n\n GEORGE\n That's why I'm thinking of you\n flying with her.", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", "I'm a bit\n driven, some might say obsessive,\n about my little flying adven-\n tures...\n They are nodding, wide-eyed, go on.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I've decided to embark on easily\n the most exciting, possibly cra-\n ziest, ever...\n They hold their breath.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm going to fly. Around the\n ", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "ready in time for my\n flight. The navy has been\n wonderful, as always.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Amelia, what do you say to the\n charges that your husband is\n pulling the strings, pressuring you\n nto this around-the-world flight\n o make a financial killing?\n George BOLTS forward to the microphones, looks at his wife\n with astonishment...\n\n GEORGE\n Wait a minute, you're flying around\n ", "A\n This flight was solely to the\n credit of Bill and Slim. Women\n should know, however, that I have\n had 500 hours solo flying and once\n held the women's altitude record.\n\n REPORTER\n So you could have done it yourself!\n\n AMELIA\n This particular flight, under these\n conditions, I wonder if anyone but\n Bill Stultz could have pulled it\n off. But certainly, one day a\n ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", ". First...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n We may not learn much about the\n plane, but we will about the pilot.\n Endurance over a month's journey,\n flying nearly every day. Response\n o stress, crises. I think that\n will make a contribution.\n Holds up a second finger. Two...\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n I'm a working stiff like all of\n you. I don't apologize for", "EORGE\n A Ah. Well, stand if you like.\n melia sits.\n\n GEORGE (CONT'D)\n I'm told you want to fly the\n Atlantic Ocean.\n\n AMELIA\n I do.\n\n GEORGE\n In the 12 months since Lindbergh,\n 55 people in 18 planes have tried.\n Three planes made it. Fourteen\n people have died.\n\n AME", "\n labeled `LUCKY LINDY.'\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n THe illusion of activity was\n essential for him to feel at peace.\n The photographer now shows George ANOTHER PHOTO of Lindbergh\n in a different pose.\n\n AMELIA\n What are you boys doing over there?\n\n GEORGE\n Trying to make you look like a\n girl.\n George studies the photo, then goes to Amelia and begins\n ", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "PORT - NIGHT\n\n he heavy door rolls OPEN. George and Amelia enter the\n brightly-lit hangar to see two men working on the FRIENDSHIP,\n a sea-plane with golden wings. Its red-orange fuselage\n stands beside gigantic PONTOONS, each 29 feet long. The\n pontoons have been opened, and the men are attaching them to\n the plane.\n They turn toward us now. BILL STULTZ is short and wiry with\n quick eyes. Only ", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "ING of an engine, a small red plane APPEARING above\n the treetops. The pilot seeing two girls alone in the field,\n SWOOPS down to BUZZ them. Amelia's friend runs for her life.\n But Amelia stands still, throws her arms WIDE, and the\n plane...\n ...DROPS lower, and LOWER, as it CLOSES straight in on the\n slender girl with her outstretched arms. LOUDER and FASTER,\n as if intent on winning some impulsive duel" ], [ "98\n A fountain in an ornate courtyard. There is a RECEPTION, as\n every evening for Amelia, attended by local DIGNITARIES.\n Fred, already a little drunk, leads Amelia to a massive teak-\n wood table. He breaks off the corner of a cracker, sets it\n down in the center of the table.\n\n FRED\n Howland Island.\n He strikes a match. SNUFFS the flame. Puts the burned-out\n match head just by the scrap of", "to work. DISSOLVE TO...\n LATER. Amelia sits with her papers in her lap, dangling her\n feet from the hatch. Alone. Hear the BUZZ of...\n ...a PLANE dropping slowly from the sky, gliding onto the\n water on its pontoons. She stares at it. Gathers up her\n things.\n LATER. Amelia sitting in a tiny dinghy, behind her the\n Friendship in distance. She is being rowed to shore. Our\n VIEW is", "Amelia hops down from the plane, grinning and waving. She is\n surrounded by adoring fans.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n The pilot of that previous flight?\n Some guy named Lindbergh.\n The JOSTLING of the crowd gets out of control, the police\n can't protect her as she is SWEPT ALONG by the mob, beaming,\n laughing, enjoying it all.\n\n \n\n \n\n INT. MAYFLOW", ".\n Bedrolls, cold weather gear. Souvenirs from their stops:\n flags, a metal plaque, native crafts, a Welcome Miss Amelia\n Earhart banner. As he studies the pile...\n ...a COFFEE POT comes FLYING out of the plane to roll at his\n feet. Suddenly, a 10 pound coffee tin SAILS PAST, as he\n DUCKS. Amelia appears at the hatch, sees him.\n\n \n\n G\n\n ", "know what else at him.\n\n R\n\n EPORTER\n Mabel, are you implying Miss\n Earhart used her feminine charms on\n your pilot?\n\n MABEL\n I don't know, Charlie, I never seen\n her. Has she got any?\n LAUGHTER, they're all calling out. She shows them a smoky\n smile, but stays on message.\n\n MABEL (CONT'D)\n Well", "\n\n GEORGE (V.O.)\n The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Itasca\n had been anchored off Howland just\n for us.\n CLOSE on the ITASCA now...\n\n GEORGE (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n Its radio would be her lifeline.\n Its black plume of smoke would\n reach for miles. More visible than\n the island itself.\n DISSOLVE TO NIGHT. The", "LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU - SUNRISE\n\n The Electra ready to go in first light, engines humming.\n Amelia walking alone toward the plane.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: LUKE FIELD, HONOLULU. MARCH 20, 1937.\n he waves goodbye to crew and press. Climbs the steps to be\n welcomed by Fred's hand gently pulling her aboard. The door\n CLOSES. We see Amelia and Fred in the", "\n\n GENE\n I'd appreciate that.\n Draws a breath.\n\n GENE (CONT'D)\n You miss that island. You'll be\n out of fuel, with 2000 miles to go.\n\n AMELIA\n But I'll have Fred so I won't miss.\n In fact, I'm taking Fred along for\n this whole trip.\n Surprisingly, he doesn't seem to like this. She smiles.\n\n", " equatorial flight. A feat no man\n has ever attempted. That's hubby\n George with her, he gets off here.\n Behind them, coat slung casually across his shoulder, is\n Fred. Waving like he belongs.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n That handsome guy behind them isn't\n a movie star. Nope, it's navigator\n Fred Noonan, who will be Amelia's\n sole companion on the", "ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Amelia Earhart arrives to a tumul-\n tuous New York reception after her\n whirlwind tour of Europe, in which\n our Queen of the Skies danced with\n her royal counterpart the Prince of\n Wales, before meeting both Benito\n Mussolini and the Pope.\n The MAYOR, the GOVERNOR, every dignitary that could get an\n invitation is there to greet her.\n\n ANNOUN", "\n 34.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n QUICK SERIES OF ANGLES. Amelia cheering animatedly at the\n races...watching tennis at Wimbledon...front row gallery at\n the House of Commons, as...\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n A whirlwind week for Boston's\n Amelia Earhart, our own Lady Lindy.\n Races at Ascot on Gold Cup\n day...watching Helen Wills", "S.)\n Amelia Earhart and a bevy of lovely\n competitors say hello to the press\n announcing the First Women's Air\n Derby, racing from Santa Monica to\n Cleveland. Dubbed by Will Rogers\n `the Powder Puff Derby,' these gals\n certainly know how to capture our\n attention.\n The next ANGLE shows Amelia watching some of her colleagues\n bouncing playfully on a see-saw. She smiles tolerantly, but\n maybe there", "Amy. Amelia steps to\n the microphones...\n\n AMELIA\n I was a passenger on this journey.\n Just a passenger. Everything that\n was done to bring us across was\n done by Wilmer Stultz and Slim\n Gordon. All the praise...\n\n REPORTER\n (calls out)\n But you can fly, can't you?\n Amelia stares at the man. Conflicting agendas.\n\n AMELI", "...\n\n \n\n \n\n 17 17\n\n INT. SMALL HOTEL, NEWFOUNDLAND - MORNING\n\n Amelia alone, leaving her hotel room in her flight jacket.\n Locking the door.\n\n SUPERIMPOSE: FIRST STOP: CANADA\n\n AMELIA (V.O.)\n Our first hop was to Canada, to\n start from as close as we could get\n to Ireland. Just in case we", ", again, blinks, starts to\n climb...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n The ice happened twice more, and I\n began to lose heart. Then I\n remembered Lindbergh's book saying\n the same thing happened to him.\n\n T\n he sea DISAPPEARS below. Only cloud.\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n So I figured, if he's twice as\n ", ")\n The only way to really fly around\n he world is to fly the entire\n circumference of 27,000 miles.\n Like at the equator.\n\n AMELIA\n No one's tried it. You think I\n should?\n No answer.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n Dare me.\n\n GORE\n Okay.\n\n AMELIA\n Okay.\n Is she", "days of\n flying...\n ...her engine SPUTTERS. Then STALLS. The plane DIPS into a\n TAIL-SPIN, PLUNGING downward...\n\n AMELIA (V.O.) (CONT'D)\n ...crashing was so common, you\n almost forgot it could kill you...\n Amelia STRUGGLING to start the engine, the little plane\n HURTLING toward earth, SPINNING as it goes.\n\n AMELIA (V.", " FLASHBULBS go crazy, NEWSREEL cameras churn.\n\n AMELIA\n Did I pressure the navy to build a\n landing strip at Howland Island?\n How exactly would I do that?\n L Threaten not to enlist?\n aughter in the room. More flashes.\n\n AMELIA (CONT'D)\n The airstrip has been planned for a\n long time. I was thrilled to learn\n it will be", "\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.)\n Eleven days of failure for plucky\n Amelia Earhart and her crew. If it\n isn't storms over the Atlantic,\n it's the inability of the\n seaplane's pontoons to lift from\n the sea.\n\n S\n ERIES OF ANGLES. One failed take-off after another.\n\n ANNOUNCER (O.S.) (CONT'D)", "cockpit. He checks a\n gauge.\n\n FRED\n Lovely. We've got so much fuel we\n can't possibly get off the ground.\n Much safer than flying.\n\n AMELIA\n Well, we need enough for a third\n pass at Howland. After you miss it\n the first couple times around.\n Ah.\n\n FRED\n Good thinking.\n he runway lights go ON, and...\n\n GE" ] ]

[ "What does George Putnam help Earhart with?", "Who does Earhart fall in love with?", "What does Earhart do in 1932?", "Who does Earhart end up having an affair with?", "On Earhart's first attempt to fly around the world where does she end up crashing?", "Going the opposite way around the world on her last attempt what did she leave for the end of the world?", "What does Earhart radio Itsaca?", "What problem does Earhart have with Itsaca?", "After Earhart informs about her position line 157-337 what happens to her?", "What year did Earhart make her final attempt to pilot an around-the-world flight?", "How did Earhart's first around-the-world flight attempt end?", "Why did Putnam's wife attempt to set more records?", "Which major aviation record did Earhart set on her own in 1932?", "How was Earhart able to pay for all her flying?", "Why was Vidal not welcome in the Putnam home?", "Which organization was the sponsor of Earhart's last flight?", "How did Earhart change her flight plan for her second attempt around the world?", "What was the last land mass Earhart was on before disappearing?", "Fred Noonan is what to Amelia Earhart?", "Amelia Earhart grew up in what state?", "Amelia Earhart is recruited by what publishing tycoon?", "George Putnam married what woman?", "Amelia Earhart is the first woman to do what?", "In what year did Amelia Earhart become the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic?", "With whom did Amelia Earhart have an affair?", "How does Amelia Earhart's first attempt to fly around the world end?", "What model plane did Amelia Earhart use in her attempt to fly around the world?", "What is the nam of the island Amelia Earhart was traveling to when last heard from?" ]

[ [ "Writing a book chronicling her flight. ", "To write a book" ], [ "Putnam. ", "Gene Vidal" ], [ "Becomes the first woman pilot to fly alone across the Atlanta. ", "She flies across the Atlantic." ], [ "Gene Vidal. ", "Gene Vidal" ], [ "Hawaii. ", "The Pacific Ocean" ], [ "The dangerous crossing of the Pacific. ", "The trans pacific crossing " ], [ "The sky has become overcast and clloudy. ", "That the sky has become cloudy and overcast." ], [ "She can't hear their radio communicators. ", "She can't hear their transmissions " ], [ "She's never heard from again. ", "She is never heard from again" ], [ "1937", "1937" ], [ "with a runway crash in Hawaii", "Crash" ], [ "she was embarrassed that her fame was based on someone else's effort", "She was embarassed that she didn't set any of her OWN records." ], [ "becoming the first female pilot to fly across the Atlantic on her own", "First female to fly alone" ], [ "through celebrity appearances and endorsement", "Celebrity appearances and endorsements" ], [ "because Putnam knew his wife had romantic feelings for VIdal", "He was having an affair with Amelia" ], [ "Purdue University", "Purdue University" ], [ "she took off in the opposite direction to her first attempt", "Goes reverse" ], [ "Howland Island", "Howland Island" ], [ "Navigator", "Navigator" ], [ "Kansas", "Kansas" ], [ "George Putnam", "George Putnam" ], [ "Amelia Earhart", "Amelia Earhart" ], [ "Cross the Atlantic Ocean.", "First woman to fly solo across the Atlantic." ], [ "1932", "In 1932." ], [ "Gene Vidal", "Gene Vidal" ], [ "With a crash in Hawaii", "She crashed on a runway in Hawaii." ], [ "Lockheed Model 10 Electra", "A Lockheed Model 10 Electra." ], [ "Itasca", "Howland Island " ] ]

[ [ "\n DR. LUCY (CONT'D\n I'm just saying.. .maybe a little\n freedom would be good for them. And\n for you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Have you ever considered giving\n them a hall pass?\n\n GRACE\n A what?\n\n DR. LUCY\n A hall pass. A week off from\n marriage.\n Grace and Maggie stop chewing.\n\n MAGGIE\n Wait a minute. . .Are you saying let\n them go out and", "me.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 45.\n They sit there for a moment, quiet. Then:\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n I need this hall pass to work,\n Grace, because if it doesn't, I\n don't know what's going to happen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ESTABLISHING SHOT OF OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE - NIGHT\n We see two VERY OLD COUPLES walking out", " A what?\n\n MAGGIE\n One week off from marriage.\n\n RICK\n You mean, like a trial separation?\n You are seriously overreacting.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a separation, it's a hall\n pass. You can do whatever you want.\n Get it out of your system.\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n Wait a minute--are you for real?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "hall\n pass, but for me it's more of a\n Hail Mary pass. I'm serious, I\n don't know what else to do.\n Grace looks at Maggie, surprised.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Remember last week when we went to\n Lucy's award thing?\n Grace nods.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n That night when we got home, Rick\n and I were gonna.. .you know... and I\n was waiting for him in bed while", "& GRACE'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Fred and Grace climb the stairs at the end of the day.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 38.\n\n FRED\n I don't know, I think this is some\n very forward-thinking on Maggie's\n part.\n\n GRACE\n Quit lobbying--you're not getting a\n hall pass. And you mark my words,\n this is going to end up biting\n Maggie in the ass", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of", " GRACE\n What are you doing here?\n He KICKS OFF THE SKI, then runs over and SHAKES HIS WET BODY\n\n ALL OVER THE GIRLS.\n\n GRACE & MAGGIE\n Gerry, stop it!\n\n GERRY\n Hey, where are the kiddies? We\n thought we'd take you all for a\n boat ride.\n\n MAGGIE\n My parents took them to Martha's\n Vineyard for the weekend", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", "CONT'D)\n Hey, about this hall pass\n business.. .1 don't want it and I\n don't need it. All I need is--\n\n MAGGIE\n I told you, this isn't negotiable.\n She turns and faces him.\n\n RICK\n You're really serious about this?\n\n MAGGIE\n Rick, this isn't something that\n I...look, I really think you need\n this. I think we need this.\n Rick doesn'", "you\n try a hall pass out on your husband\n and let us know how it works out.\n\n DR. LUCY\n Oh, I have.\n Grace and Maggie REACT to this.\n\n MAGGIE\n You're telling us you let Charlie\n sleep with another woman?\n Dr. Lucy takes a moment before answering.\n\n DR. LUCY\n I am not telling you that. I am\n telling you that I gave him the\n freedom to choose for himself.\n\n GRACE\n And", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", ")\n Our husbands aren't married this\n week. Do you know what husbands do\n when they're not married?\n\n MAGGIE\n Shh. You're going to wake the kids.\n\n GRACE\n Are you going to sit there and tell\n me you're not the least bit\n concerned about what they're doing\n right now?\n Maggie SIGHS.\n\n MAGGIE\n Okay... I'm a little concerned.\n\n \n\n \n\n", ".\n You two go out and have a good time-\n -cripes, you haven't been out all\n week.\n Grace perks up at this.\n\n MAGGIE\n Oh, I don't know, Dad, we really\n\n HADN'T PLANNED--\n\n GRACE\n Excuse me, can I have a word with\n you?\n Grace pulls Maggie aside.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D)\n\n (WHISPERING)\n ", "No. Of course I'm happy, honey--our\n sex life is great--not that I\n wouldn't mind a little more, but--\n look, one thing has nothing to do\n with the other. I think about sex a\n lot--all guys do--that's just the\n way it is.\n Maggie sits down beside him, clearly at the end of her rope.\n No one speaks for a few moments. Then:\n\n MAGGIE\n I'm giving you a hall pass.\n\n RICK\n", "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", "DAY\n\n Maggie, Grace, and Dr. Lucy eat at an upscale restaurant.\n Dr. Lucy listens quietly to the women.\n\n GRACE\n Fred said five grand? What a\n blowhard!\n\n MAGGIE\n You know what's even funnier? Hog-\n head McCormick said he'd pay seven\n grand.\n\n GRACE\n What?! That bum hasn't worked since\n the dot-com bust--his wife supports\n him!\n The girls LA", "napkins.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n So what's up with the ring?\n He looks at his finger, then back at her.\n\n RICK\n Um...have you ever heard of a hall\n pass?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BALL TEAM BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Grace pulls up in her Camry and gets out. She hears MUSIC\n coming from inside and hesitates a BEAT before walking\n nervously onto the porch and KNO", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--" ], [ "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", " All right, don't give up.\n\n FRED\n I'm not giving up, I'm facing facts-\n -this is our last day and we got\n nothing cooking. Maybe you were\n right. Maybe we should just tell\n the girls to come home.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79.\n\n RICK\n No. I want the hall pass.\n Fred looks at Rick, surprised.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n At", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", ". It's\n about being man enough to pick up a\n woman even though you may not be\n what--in the traditional sense--is\n considered...\n (makes quotes with\n\n FINGERS)\n .good-looking, or...\n (finger quotes again)\n .appealing.\n Rick seems stung by this news.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Look, if we can't show that\n something positive can come from\n having a hall pass, then the whole\n concept is", "\n\n RICK\n Hog-head, come on, who eats pot\n brownies at eleven in the morning\n when they're playing golf?\n\n HOG-HEAD\n John Daly?\n\n GARY\n And by the way, Rick, this is\n spring break! You've got a hall\n pass! Live it up, man! It'll\n probably help your rap with the\n ladies later.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Gary's right--when are we ever\n gonna", ",\n man?\n\n FLATS\n Great. What's up with you? How's\n that hall pass thing going?\n Rick makes a Scooby Doo sound, alarmed.\n\n RICK\n Who told you about that--was it Hog-\n head?\n\n FLATS\n No. Some old lady was yakking about\n it down at the post office.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n FLATS (CONT'D)\n\n (BIG", " FRED (CONT'D)\n That's right--this thing is bigger\n than us! Our wives didn't give us\n this hall pass, the good Lord did!\n And what do we have to show for it?\n Nothing.\n\n RICK\n Come off it, Fred. Obviously\n hooking up isn't something we\n really want--if it was, we could've\n done it by now.\n\n FRED\n Could we have?\n Rick is taken aback by this.\n\n ", "do? She made me call\n the Longs and apologize.\n Rick flinches.\n\n RICK\n Oof .\n\n FRED\n How 'bout you--did Maggie freak out\n when you got home?\n\n RICK\n Uh... sort of.\n Rick peeks out the kitchen door to make sure the Goldberg's\n aren't listening. Then:\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n She gave me a hall pass.\n\n FRED\n A what", " might change the philosophy of\n marriage in America.\n Fred eats a big scoop of ice cream.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (WITH MOUTH-FULL)\n I envisioned a national holiday,\n right between July 4th and Labor\n Day, like the first Friday in\n August, Hall Pass Day; a day for\n husbands to get some strange, a day\n that would forever be known as the\n holiday,that saved the institution\n of marriage.\n\n RICK\n", "?\n\n RICK\n A week off from marriage to do\n whatever I want. She's going to her\n parents' house down the Cape 'til\n next Sunday.\n Fred SNICKERS.\n\n FRED\n Yeah, right.\n\n RICK\n I'm serious.\n\n FRED\n You're full of shit.\n\n RICK\n Fred, it's true. You think I could\n make something like this up?\n Fred stares at him.\n\n ", "of swings.\n A moment later the guys are gone and a humbled Rick and Fred\n sit there feeling alone.\n\n FRED\n\n (BEING BRAVE)\n This is actually good--you know,\n that they're leaving. You don't\n need five hunters to bag two birds.\n\n RICK\n No, you do not. And I love those\n guys but, let's be honest, they're\n not exactly chick-magnets.\n\n FRED\n You", "now I\n may lose her.. .because of you.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?! You\n said our wives were living their\n dreams, with their fancy gas ovens,\n and that our dream was the hall\n pass! How can you blame this on\n me?!\n\n FRED\n I'd never even heard of a hall pass\n until you flaunted yours in my\n face! 'Hey, look at me, I've got a\n hall pass--everyone should have a\n hall pass", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--", "Law & Order MUSIC CUE as we SUPER:\n\n DAY 6\n\n INT. RICK AND FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n A depressed Rick and Fred sit in bed numbing their pain by\n WATCHING THE BOURNE SUPREMACY and eating a couple PINTS OF\n\n BEN AND JERRY'S ICE CREAM.\n\n FRED\n We let down the male species.\n\n (SIGHS)\n I really thought our hall passes\n", "going to make it--\n having a hall pass partner?\n\n FRED\n And it's not just me--Baker, Gary,\n and Hog-head are coming out with us\n tonight!\n\n RICK\n No way?! They got hall passes,\n too?!\n\n FRED\n No, no, no--they just want to\n watch.\n Rick grows concerned.\n\n RICK\n You think that's a good idea,\n letting them in on it? What if they\n ", "we SUPER:\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 65.\n\n DAY 4\n\n INT. RICK AND FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - AFTERNOON\n\n A SNORING Rick is FAST ASLEEP, sprawled out on his back on\n the bed WEARING ONLY HIS BOXERS despite the clock next to him\n reading 3:37 in the afternoon. He's surrounded by several\n left-over ROOM SERVICE TRAY", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of" ], [ "igh seems intrigued. She moves closer still, takes his\n hand.\n\n LEIGH\n So where can we go to talk some\n more about this?\n\n RICK\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Um, Coakley has a game room\n upstairs. We could.. .talk there.\n\n WANNABE (O.S.)\n Leigh!\n Rick and Leigh look over to see an AGITATED Wannabe forcing\n his way through the crowd.\n\n WANNAB", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 109.\n\n LEIGH\n Really? Are you feeling okay?\n You're not mad because I went\n outside with my friend, are you?\n\n RICK\n No, no, no. Look, I shouldn't be\n doing this. I have.. .you know,\n commitments.\n Leigh nods at this, then unties a shoulder strap and her\n DRESS FALLS TO THE FLOOR. Suddenly she'", "Leigh.\n\n RICK\n You do?\n Leigh nods and starts to straighten up the tables.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I work-out at home, but I was\n thinking of going public with my\n work-outs. What do you squat?\n She seems amused by this.\n\n LEIGH\n I don't really squat, just run on\n the hamster-wheel everyday after\n work.\n She starts wiping down a table.\n\n CO", "\n\n RICK\n Really? Now? I thought you said he\n wasn't your boyfriend.\n\n LEIGH\n He's not...but he is a friend.\n Leigh glances at the broken-down Wannabe standing there at\n the door, then turns back to Rick.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm sorry.\n Before Rick can stop her, Leigh LEAVES THE PARTY with\n Wannabe. After a LONG BEAT, Rick slides down into a chair,\n", "have me.\n Leigh smiles. And it's the kind of smile you only get two or\n three times in your life, if you're lucky, and probably never\n from a woman this beautiful.\n She reaches down and UNBUCKLES HIS PANTS, then she PULLS OFF\n HIS SHIRT. They stand face-to-face now, the middle-aged guy\n and the young beauty, and it's happening exactly the way Rick\n had hoped it would, the dream.\n She presses her body against his and ST", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 90.\n ON RICK - he looks over at Wannabe but CONTINUES TO DANCE.\n\n RICK\n Is this guy your boyfriend or\n something?\n\n LEIGH\n No, no, no.\n She waves it off, then shrugs guiltily.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n One time we messed around a little.\n\n RICK\n And what does 'messed around a\n little'", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", "\n Rick.\n\n LEIGH\n He's looking to join.\n\n CLYDE\n Great. I'll get you signed up.\n Leigh pats Rick's hand.\n\n LEIGH\n See ya.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 76.\n She turns to leave.\n\n RICK\n So, uh, are you gonna grab a\n brewski after your work-out?\n\n LEIGH\n Nah.\n", "insane, she's\n just making really poor decisions\n right now.\n (hands him his car keys)\n Here, give Rick the keys to my mini-\n van. I'm gonna go back to the hotel\n with Missy.\n Coakley looks back at Missy and softens.\n\n COAKLEY\n It's your funeral, princess.\n BACK ON RICK AND LEIGH dancing up a storm. Rick is OUT OF\n BREATH and SWEATING LIKE A PIG. His shirt is", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B", "himself FACE-TO-FACE WITH\n\n LEIGH.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, where are you going?\n\n RICK\n What are you doing...? I thought\n you'd left.\n\n LEIGH\n No. I told you, I just had to talk\n him off the ledge. I calmed him\n down and sent him on his way.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Uh, great.\n\n LEIGH\n So where's that game room? I\n thought", "in and gives\n Leigh a kiss on the cheek. He has a pair of headphones\n hanging around his neck.\n\n WANNABE\n Wassup, girl?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 87.\n Wannabe NOTICES Rick and loses his smile.\n\n WANNABE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hey. What are you doing here--\n you auditing the place?\n\n RICK\n Actually, I work for Sir", "we were gonna play some\n games.\n She smiles and takes his hand and as they walk away, we go...\n\n INT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh walk down the hall to the game room. He opens\n the door and flips on the light.\n THEIR POV - there's a pool table, a few pinball machines, a\n bar, and a bed.\n\n LEIGH\n I'll be right back--I just have to\n use", "E (CONT'D)\n Where have you...? Why didn't\n you...? You knew this was my big\n night! How could you just--?\n (turns away, emotional)\n Look, can I please talk to you in\n private? Now.\n Leigh looks apologetically at Rick.\n\n LEIGH\n Can you give me a second?\n\n RICK\n Sure.\n Wannabe and Leigh walk a few feet away and Rick watches them\n have an ANIMATED CONVERSATION", ". It appears Wannabe may even\n be crying. Finally, Wannabe storms across the room but when\n he gets to the door, he looks back at Leigh.\n\n WANNABE\n Well? Are you coming?\n Leigh SIGHS, then approaches Rick.\n\n LEIGH\n I'm sorry, Rick. I have to go deal\n with this.\n Rick can't believe what's happening.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 102.", "uncomfortable.\n She smiles at him and he forces a smile back, and there's\n some serious eye-contact, and then BAM!\n They DIVE AT EACH OTHER and start SUCKING FACE LIKE THERE'S\n NO TOMORROW. As they continue to MAUL EACH OTHER, they\n STUMBLE INTO THE HOUSE, and we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh are leaning against the bar.\n\n", " RICK\n\n (BLURTING OUT)\n Have you ever been with a married\n guy?\n Leigh pauses, but she doesn't flinch.\n\n LEIGH\n No.\n\n RICK\n Neither have I.\n Rick winces, but Leigh smiles at him. It's the moment of\n truth.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I'd like to help you take being\n with a married guy off your list of\n things to do before you die.", "\n\n LEIGH\n You would?\n\n RICK\n Yes.\n Leigh gets close.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 101.\n\n LEIGH\n I don't want to be a home-wrecker.\n\n RICK\n I've got a one-time pass, remember?\n\n LEIGH\n That wasn't just a line?\n\n RICK\n No. It's for real.\n Le", "wearing gym\n shorts and an old Springsteen t-shirt. He hesitates, then\n grabs a SWEATSHIRT out of the car and TIES IT AROUND HIS\n WAIST. Rick hurries down the sidewalk toward Leigh.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Hey, girl!\n\n LEIGH\n\n (SMILING)\n All right! You decided to go for\n it.\n As Rick follows Leigh into the gym, a smiling Flats CALLS\n\n ", " LEIGH\n So...you're married?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 95\n\n RICK\n I wasn't deliberately hiding it.\n He holds up his ring hand.\n\n LEIGH\n Yeah, I just thought your wife had\n died or something and you were\n wearing it out of respect.\n\n RICK\n\n (UNCOMFORTABLE)\n Uh, nope. She's still hangin' in\n there" ], [ "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", "\n bar.\n\n FRED\n Mothers, lock up your daughters--\n the dogs are off the leash!\n\n RICK\n Turn-and-burn, baby!\n Gary raises his hand for a HIGH-FIVE, but Rick balks.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Nope. I don't do that.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Hey, I say screw the golf--let's go\n straight to the pool bar and start\n getting you guys laid!\n", " Rick shoots Gary a look.\n\n FRED\n I get the feeling there's a lot of\n divorcees in this place.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n That's good. Divorcees are into\n kinky sex--that's why they're\n divorced.\n Just then the BARTENDER arrives with the Miller Genuine\n Drafts and the guys CLINK BOTTLES.\n\n HOG-HEAD (CONT'D)\n So come on, point out which girls", "Law & Order MUSIC CUE as we SUPER:\n\n DAY 6\n\n INT. RICK AND FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n A depressed Rick and Fred sit in bed numbing their pain by\n WATCHING THE BOURNE SUPREMACY and eating a couple PINTS OF\n\n BEN AND JERRY'S ICE CREAM.\n\n FRED\n We let down the male species.\n\n (SIGHS)\n I really thought our hall passes\n", ". It's\n about being man enough to pick up a\n woman even though you may not be\n what--in the traditional sense--is\n considered...\n (makes quotes with\n\n FINGERS)\n .good-looking, or...\n (finger quotes again)\n .appealing.\n Rick seems stung by this news.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Look, if we can't show that\n something positive can come from\n having a hall pass, then the whole\n concept is", "\n \n\n 41.\n\n RICK\n\n (TO BARTENDER)\n Five MGD's, my friend.\n While waiting for the beers, the guys CHECK OUT THE SCENE.\n It's mostly FAMILIES, a few YOUNG COUPLES.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n The guy at the Holiday Inn Express\n told me this place really kicks in\n around nine-thirty.\n\n BAKER\n Hey, why are you", " All right, don't give up.\n\n FRED\n I'm not giving up, I'm facing facts-\n -this is our last day and we got\n nothing cooking. Maybe you were\n right. Maybe we should just tell\n the girls to come home.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79.\n\n RICK\n No. I want the hall pass.\n Fred looks at Rick, surprised.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n At", "\n RICK\n Hoch-head, relax, the pool bar ain't\n going nowhere. Besides, it'll be\n good for us to get a little sun\n before making our grand entrance--\n chicks love a healthy glow.\n\n FRED\n Plus it wouldn't hurt to work up a\n little sweat--get those pheromones\n flying.\n Just then, two sexy BEER-CART GIRLS wave as they pass.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n You talked me into it.\n\n", "re mistaken. Look,\n dude, this ain't Operation Cock-\n block here--now trust me, retreat.\n Rick glances back at Leigh, torn. She looks fantastic.\n\n RICK\n Coak, I'm never gonna have another\n hall pass, so this memory has to\n last a lifetime. . .you know what I\n mean?\n Coakley looks at Leigh and SIGHS.\n\n COAKLEY\n All right, I'll be at the bar when\n this thing blows", "'s my\n age.\n\n RICK\n Nice.\n Rick continues to try to get the bartender's attention.\n\n PAIGE\n So, Rick, how's the hall pass\n going?\n Paige smirks at Rick who shrinks a little.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n You don't mind if I call you Rick,\n do you? I am officially an adult\n now.\n\n RICK\n No, of course not--what did you\n", "Baker gets up from his stool.\n\n RICK\n\n (TAKEN ABACK)\n What? Why?\n\n BAKER\n I wanted to watch you guys pick up\n chicks, not talk about dicks.\n\n FRED\n Hey, greased lightning, let off the\n gas--sometimes these things take\n time.\n\n GARY\n Baker's right. This is day three\n and you haven't even talked to a\n girl.\n\n RICK\n\n", "?\n\n RICK\n A week off from marriage to do\n whatever I want. She's going to her\n parents' house down the Cape 'til\n next Sunday.\n Fred SNICKERS.\n\n FRED\n Yeah, right.\n\n RICK\n I'm serious.\n\n FRED\n You're full of shit.\n\n RICK\n Fred, it's true. You think I could\n make something like this up?\n Fred stares at him.\n\n ", "Man, that Barney Fife still kills\n me.\n He looks back to Rick.\n\n COAKLEY (CONT'D)\n Hey, I was thinking about this hall-\n pass business. It's really ironic,\n isn't it?\n Rick glances down the hall to see if Leigh has returned.\n\n RICK\n How's that?\n\n COAKLEY\n Well think about it. There's two\n kinds of guys who cheat on their\n wives: The guy", "do? She made me call\n the Longs and apologize.\n Rick flinches.\n\n RICK\n Oof .\n\n FRED\n How 'bout you--did Maggie freak out\n when you got home?\n\n RICK\n Uh... sort of.\n Rick peeks out the kitchen door to make sure the Goldberg's\n aren't listening. Then:\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n She gave me a hall pass.\n\n FRED\n A what", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "going to make it--\n having a hall pass partner?\n\n FRED\n And it's not just me--Baker, Gary,\n and Hog-head are coming out with us\n tonight!\n\n RICK\n No way?! They got hall passes,\n too?!\n\n FRED\n No, no, no--they just want to\n watch.\n Rick grows concerned.\n\n RICK\n You think that's a good idea,\n letting them in on it? What if they\n ", "\n \". .Oh-oh here she comes, watch out\n boy she'll chew you up. Oh-oh here\n she comes, she's a maneater...\"\n ANGLE ON THE BAR where Rick and Fred are checking out the\n scene. Fred is WEARING THE HELMET. (It's a huge BLACK,\n OVERSIZED HELMET WITH A VISOR.) He pulls it off, SHAKES OUT\n HIS HAIR, and places it prominently ON THE BAR.\n\n" ], [ " RICK\n Well ...um...\n As Rick thinks about this, Paige moves in tighter.\n\n PAIGE\n By the way, I kind of owe you an\n apology.\n (lowers her voice,\n\n BASH\n Last week ful) when you drove me home, I\n shouldn't have snapped at you like\n that.\n\n RICK\n Oh, don't worry about it. It was a\n big misunderstanding.\n\n PAIGE\n No, it", "?\n\n AUNT MEG\n I know she tried to hook-up with\n you--twice in fact--and that you\n set her straight both times.\n Fred hadn't heard this from Rick and is a little confused.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 108.\n\n FRED\n Uh...hook-up?\n\n AUNT MEG\n\n (SMILES)\n Rick, enough with the chivalry.\n Paige wanted to", "PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Look, I promise no one's gonna find\n out. If you want, you can join me\n down at the lake--we'll listen to\n some tunes and have a couple beers.\n Rick stares at her, pictures it in his head. She looks\n hopeful, open.\n\n RICK\n I'm sorry, Paige, I can't do that.\n\n PAIGE\n Why not?\n\n RICK\n Well... it would be..", ".)\n Hi, Mr. Mills.\n Rick turns to see that he's crammed in beside his babysitter\n Paige who's looking a LITTLE TIPSY.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 84.\n\n RICK\n Oh, hey, Paige. What are you doing\n here?\n She pulls out her license and holds it up.\n\n PAIGE\n I turned twenty-one yesterday.\n\n (DRUNKEN SMI", ".inappropriate.\n Rick's voice has taken on a firmer, more adult tone. Paige\n seems amused by it.\n\n PAIGE\n What, is that your grown-up voice?\n\n (SMILES)\n That would be inappropriate, Paige.\n\n COME ON--\n\n RICK\n No, Paige.\n (with an edge)\n What are you thinking? I'm a\n married man and I have a family.\n You think they'd", "lets this all sink in, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Paige's Aunt Meg is sitting on the couch. Her legs are\n crossed revealing a lot of skin. Fred hands her a glass of\n wine and sits beside her.\n\n FRED\n Cheers.\n They CLINK glasses.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, I hope you don't mind me\n tracking you down--Paige told me\n where", "\n \n\n 85\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n In fact, I thought it was very\n classy of you to be staying at the\n Holiday Inn Express instead of\n bringing girls back to your home\n with all the kids' pictures and\n schoolwork taped up everywhere.\n Rick forces a smile.\n\n RICK\n Thank you.\n A male BARTENDER, 25, finally appears in front of Rick.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Yeah", "'s my\n age.\n\n RICK\n Nice.\n Rick continues to try to get the bartender's attention.\n\n PAIGE\n So, Rick, how's the hall pass\n going?\n Paige smirks at Rick who shrinks a little.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n You don't mind if I call you Rick,\n do you? I am officially an adult\n now.\n\n RICK\n No, of course not--what did you\n", "his Dodge Caravan and Paige sits in\n the passenger seat. She is on the busty side.\n\n RICK\n How were the kids tonight?\n\n PAIGE\n Perfect. That Gunnar is so cute--\n all he wants to do is wrestle with\n me.\n Rick smiles at this.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Mr. Mills, would it be okay to turn\n down the air--I'm a little chilly.\n Look--I got goose bumps", "\n \n\n 98.\n\n FRED\n Hi. May I help you?\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Paige's Aunt Meg. She's wearing a\n skirt and low-cut tank top and has cougar written all over\n her.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, my name's Meg. I'm your\n babysitter Paige's aunt, and I just\n wanted to come over here and tell\n you this: They don't make men like\n you", "wasn't.\n She takes a moment, looks around.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 86.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n If you thought I was coming on to\n you that night, it's because...I\n was.\n Rick flinches at this. Just then the Bartender returns with\n the champagne. Rick fumbles through his pocket and finally\n pays. Then he's left alone with Paige and her coed-in-love-\n", ".. .How old are you?\n\n PAIGE\n Twenty. But I'm turning twenty-one\n next week.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Happy birthday. That's a\n biggie.\n\n PAIGE\n Yeah. My aunt usually buys beer for\n me, but she's out of town.\n\n (SMILES HOPEFULLY)\n So. . .could ya?\n\n RICK\n Uh, I don't know, Paige...I could\n", " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", "the kids to the park, then to the\n party. You can dust stay in bed,,\n get your beauty sleep, and bask in\n the sweet, sweet pounding I'm about\n to give you.\n\n MAGGIE\n I love it when you sweet-talk me.\n Maggie smiles but as Rick opens the front door they FREEZE IN\n\n THEIR TRACKS.\n THEIR POV - the babysitter (PAIGE, 20, cute) is standing\n there with their 4-year-old", " just say?\n\n PAIGE\n I was asking about your hall pass.\n (off Rick's look)\n I baby-sit for the Putneys and I\n heard Gary talking about it the\n other night at their barbecue.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n RICK\n He was talking about it at a\n barbecue?!\n\n PAIGE\n Oh, he wasn't saying it in a bad\n way.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "LE)\n I'm legal now.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Well, happy birthday. You out\n celebrating?\n\n PAIGE\n Yeah, I'm here with my Aunt Meg.\n Paige points across the club to AUNT MEG, a striking redhead,\n early 40's, who's talking to a couple of YOUNG MEN.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n She's the best. Forty-two years old\n but she still parties like she", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "better get inside.\n She opens the car door, then glares back at him.\n\n PAIGE\n Ewww. What the hell were you\n thinking?\n\n RICK\n Go ahead. Scoot along now.\n As she SLAMS the car door, we...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Rick bounds up the stairs to find Maggie gently closing\n Gunnar's bedroom door.\n\n MAGGIE", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B" ], [ "don't want to get\n into all the details, but my wife\n gave me this one-time deal where I\n get to be with another woman.\n He opens the door wide. She looks at him for a BEAT.\n\n MISSY FRANKENFIELD\n I thought we were going to the\n hotel bar?\n\n FRED\n We are. There's a mini-bar in my\n room. You better hurry up, it's\n last call.\n Fred smiles.\n\n MISSY F", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", ")\n 'No thank you' would have sufficed.\n Fred walks into his room and closes the door.\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Fred goes to the mini-bar and pours himself a drink. He\n looks around the room. The week's over and he's failed\n miserably. He sits on the bed. Alone.\n Then a KNOCK. Fred gets up and opens the door.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "using his car.\n\n MAN'S VOICE (V.0.)\n\n (ON SPEAKERPHONE)\n Well, would you know where I could\n find him? This is Sgt. Polisner of\n the Massachusetts State Police.\n As Rick grows alarmed, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Fred is still on the couch with Aunt Meg on the floor in\n front of him. Fred's PANTS ARE", "of\n trainwrecks. Let's go.\n\n FRED\n\n (ALARMED)\n Whoa--wait a second.\n But Coakley steers Fred over to two CHUBBY, NOT-SO-ATTRACTIVE\n BLONDES laying on a 'bed' in the corner.\n\n COAKLEY\n Ladies, this is my friend Fred\n Pinkberry--his yogurt company just\n went public and he's out\n celebrating. He'd like to offer you\n a", "\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n A bored-looking Fred is smooshed between the Chubby Blondes\n on the bed.\n\n CHUBBY BLONDE #1\n It was the greys--you know, the\n tall, skinny aliens--and they were\n all over my yard, but--and here's\n the weird thing--I wasn't at all\n afraid of them so when they asked\n me if I", "and Grace and Maggie\n and the coach can't help but LAUGH along with him, as we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RAMADA INN - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Fred pull into the hotel's lot in the mini-van. As\n Rick gets out, Fred reaches behind his seat and comes out\n clutching a MOTORCYCLE HELMET. Rick stares at him.\n\n FRED\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n Chicks dig motorcycles.\n\n ", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", "the bed (with his\n pants still at his ankles), Fred WADDLING LIKE A PENGUIN.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Moral-guy's a tit-man, huh?\n\n FRED\n\n (SHRUGGING)\n Well, I grew up in the midwest.\n She pushes him down on the bed and Fred quickly kicks off his\n pants and shoes (but keeps his boxers on.) Meg TACKLES him\n and the two of them start to roll around", "UNDER THE COVERS.\n An O.S. Fred seems to be working his way down her stomach.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Oh yes! Rick... please...I want you\n to make love to me.\n Just then Rick BURSTS INTO THE ROOM, out of breath. Fred and\n Meg come up from under the covers. (Fred is at waist-level on\n her.)\n\n RICK\n Fred, I need to talk to you!\n Meg GLARES down at Fred, confused.\n", "ares at Fred.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 88.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I thought the massage parlor was\n admitting defeat?\n\n FRED\n I had a knot in my neck--why the\n hell didn't you tell me you saw\n Coffee Girl?!\n\n COAKLEY\n Okay, guys, cut the crap. We're all\n here for the same thing. And I'll\n give you a hint what", " FRED\n Did you see her face? Her face is\n tremendous.\n\n RICK\n (chanting, scared)\n Please don't have a nice ass,\n please don't have a nice ass...\n But as she turns to pour a cup of coffee, we see that HER ASS\n IS SPECTACULAR. Rick turns away, annoyed.\n\n RICK (CONT'D\n Oh, come on! That's ri iculous.\n\n FRED\n I know. She's from", "lets this all sink in, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Paige's Aunt Meg is sitting on the couch. Her legs are\n crossed revealing a lot of skin. Fred hands her a glass of\n wine and sits beside her.\n\n FRED\n Cheers.\n They CLINK glasses.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, I hope you don't mind me\n tracking you down--Paige told me\n where", "shit.\n Rick shoots him a look.\n\n RICK\n I don't think it's supposed to be\n for real. It's just to make her\n laugh so she'll talk to you.\n Fred considers this.\n\n FRED\n Oh God no, it doesn't work on that\n level. Here, this is my favorite.\n He takes the paper from Rick.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (READING)\n 'You must be from Ireland because\n ", "?\n\n RICK\n A week off from marriage to do\n whatever I want. She's going to her\n parents' house down the Cape 'til\n next Sunday.\n Fred SNICKERS.\n\n FRED\n Yeah, right.\n\n RICK\n I'm serious.\n\n FRED\n You're full of shit.\n\n RICK\n Fred, it's true. You think I could\n make something like this up?\n Fred stares at him.\n\n ", ".\n\n LEIGH\n Rockin'.\n Leigh gives him the peace sign.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 70.\n\n RICK\n R-O-C-K in the U-S-A.\n Leigh smiles and as she heads back inside, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n Fred is sitting on his bed flipping through his address book\n until he comes", "to Missy Frankenfield. He hits the\n SPEAKERPHONE and DIALS. Several RINGS later:\n\n MISSY FRANKENFIELD (V.0.)\n Hi, this is Missy. Sorry I missed\n your call. I'm out of town for a\n few days, and I may have limited\n cell reception. Please leave a\n message and I'll get back to you as\n soon as I can. BEEP.\n Fred mouths the word 'shit', then picks up the receiver.\n\n ", "parked on the street in front of his home.\n We HEAR Styx's The Best of Times coming from inside the car\n and we MOVE IN CLOSER until we're...\n LOOKING THROUGH THE PASSENGER WINDOW at Fred. He's sitting\n in the driver's seat; his EYES ARE CLOSED and his head is\n slung back as he JERKS-OFF (just below frame) to the MUSIC.\n A POLICE CRUISER passes in the b.g", " FRED (CONT'D)\n That's right--this thing is bigger\n than us! Our wives didn't give us\n this hall pass, the good Lord did!\n And what do we have to show for it?\n Nothing.\n\n RICK\n Come off it, Fred. Obviously\n hooking up isn't something we\n really want--if it was, we could've\n done it by now.\n\n FRED\n Could we have?\n Rick is taken aback by this.\n\n ", "\n \". .Oh-oh here she comes, watch out\n boy she'll chew you up. Oh-oh here\n she comes, she's a maneater...\"\n ANGLE ON THE BAR where Rick and Fred are checking out the\n scene. Fred is WEARING THE HELMET. (It's a huge BLACK,\n OVERSIZED HELMET WITH A VISOR.) He pulls it off, SHAKES OUT\n HIS HAIR, and places it prominently ON THE BAR.\n\n" ], [ "I was upset so I went for a\n drive--you know, to think--and I\n must have hit a patch of sand, and\n before I knew it I was into the\n pole.\n Fred stops and looks her in the eye.\n\n FRED\n I'm sorry, Grace.\n\n GRACE\n For what?\n\n FRED\n For putting you through all this.\n Grace looks awash in guilt.\n\n GRACE\n It's not your fault, Fred.\n\n F", "RED\n Yes, it is--of course it's my\n fault. This isn't you--driving\n around all night, thinking--you're\n not a thinker.\n When she looks up at him, he forces a smile. But she doesn't\n smile back.\n\n GRACE\n Look, Fred, we have to talk\n about... about what happened this\n week.\n Fred takes a DEEP BREATH and looks around, trying to avoid\n the moment.\n\n \n\n \n\n", "-\n van pulls up and Fred gets out. (Fred has a BLACK EYE.) He\n helps Grace out of the van, then pays the DRIVER. (Grace has\n TWO BLACK EYES and her nose is HEAVILY BANDAGED.) When the\n taxi drives off, Fred helps Grace toward the house.\n\n FRED\n .And what were you doing driving\n around at one o'clock in the\n morning?\n\n GRACE\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Well...", "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is", "and I\n shouldn't have run from you guys,\n but my wife's been in an accident\n and she's in this emergency room\n and I gotta see how she is\n because...\n\n (GROWS EMOTIONAL)\n\n .THAT WOMAN'S MY WHOLE LIFE!\n The cops look moved and unsure what to do.\n\n DOCTOR\n Are you the husband of...\n (glances down at chart)\n .Grace Searing?\n Fred strains to", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", "ry WALKS OUT THE DOOR. Grace sits there alone for a\n moment. We PUSH IN ON HER and we hear Gerry's CAR START\n OUTSIDE, and when Grace STARTS TO CRY, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n This is a Tudor home in an upscale Brookline neighborhood.\n We can hear 'Rage Against The Machine' BLASTING from the\n street. There's thirty or so cars out front and", " GRACE\n What are you doing here?\n He KICKS OFF THE SKI, then runs over and SHAKES HIS WET BODY\n\n ALL OVER THE GIRLS.\n\n GRACE & MAGGIE\n Gerry, stop it!\n\n GERRY\n Hey, where are the kiddies? We\n thought we'd take you all for a\n boat ride.\n\n MAGGIE\n My parents took them to Martha's\n Vineyard for the weekend", "\n\n PHONE.\n\n MAGGIE\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n Oh my god... oh my god, you poor\n thing.\n Maggie looks up, shocked to see Rick.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n Hold on, Rick just walked in.\n\n (TO RICK)\n Grace was in a car accident!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 119.\n\n ", " GRACE\n I think we might've made a huge\n mistake.\n\n MAGGIE\n Stop thinking about it, Grace. Why\n don t you just try to get some\n sleep?\n Grace turns to Maggie.\n\n GRACE\n Sleep? I can't sleep. I don't\n understand you--how can you Just\n sit there and read knowing that\n Rick could be making out with a\n supermodel right now?\n Maggie doesn't answer.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D", " \n\n \n\n 44.\n Grace flops into the chair across from her.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Of course I'm concerned. But what\n choice did we have?\n\n GRACE\n We could've kept the status quo. I\n mean, were things really that bad\n that we had to try something this\n extreme?\n\n MAGGIE\n For me they were.\n\n (BEAT)\n Look, you may call this a", " I know it's probably hard for you\n to understand but...I love my\n husband.\n\n GERRY\n So? What does that have to do with\n anything? Fate threw us together\n and we went with it--isn't that\n what life's all about?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 99.\n Grace looks at him, recognizing the youth and triteness of\n his words.\n\n GRACE\n Not always.\n\n", "anymore.\n She smiles.\n\n FRED\n Oh. Well, thank you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Would you like to come in?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BALL CLUB BEACH HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n A guilt-ridden Grace is just finishing GETTING DRESSED when\n Gerry comes out of the bathroom buttoning up his shirt.\n\n GERRY\n Everything okay?\n\n GRACE\n Yeah. Yeah. It'", " \n\n \n\n 121.\n\n FRED\n Grace. . .do we really have to do\n this?\n Grace lowers her head guiltily.\n\n GRACE\n Yeah. Yeah, we do.\n When she looks back up, she NOTICES the SPRAY-PAINTED and\n\n BATTERED MINI-VAN.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D)\n Horny old man?\n\n FRED\n\n (MATTER-OF-FA", "s just ...no,\n everything's not okay.\n\n GERRY\n What?\n He moves close to her and she grows uncomfortable.\n\n GRACE\n Look, you're a great cguy, Gerry,\n and you're very charming and very\n sweet and the last thing I wanted\n to do was hurt your feelings,\n but...well, what,just happened can\n never happen again.\n Gerry looks confused.\n\n GERRY\n Oh.\n\n GRACE\n", " \n\n 26.\n\n DR. LUCY\n There's a wonderful principle in\n psychology called 'reactance\n theory.' It basically states that\n if you're constantly told you can't\n do something, you want to do it\n more than ever. And conversely, if\n you remove the taboo, you remove\n the obsession.\n Grace makes a 't' sound.\n\n GRACE\n\n (SARCASTIC)\n I got an idea, Doc: Why don't", "\n\n MAGGIE\n The wrong impression? What makes\n you think that--I mean, besides the\n flowers, I.D. bracelet, and love\n letter?\n Maggie picks up a card.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n\n (READING)\n 'Dearest Grace--Our final game is\n tonight. Please meet me at the\n coach's place afterwards to\n celebrate. Yours truly, Gerry.'\n\n GRACE\n Thanks for piling on.\n ", ". I feel terrible--\n the poor kid's spending all his\n hard-earned money on me--that's\n sad. Cute, but sad.\n\n MAGGIE\n Grace, you should be flattered.\n You're thirty-eight-years-old and\n college kids are still swooning\n over you.\n\n GRACE\n Well I just feel bad if I gave him\n the wrong impression.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 81.", "laid two\n or three times at most.\n She looks up and forces a smile.\n\n MAGGIE\n Ha-ha.\n Maggie checks her watch.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Jeez, I wonder what's taking Grace\n so long?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 103.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Well, if she went over to break the\n kid's heart, the least she could do\n" ], [ "-\n van pulls up and Fred gets out. (Fred has a BLACK EYE.) He\n helps Grace out of the van, then pays the DRIVER. (Grace has\n TWO BLACK EYES and her nose is HEAVILY BANDAGED.) When the\n taxi drives off, Fred helps Grace toward the house.\n\n FRED\n .And what were you doing driving\n around at one o'clock in the\n morning?\n\n GRACE\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Well...", "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT", "RED\n Yes, it is--of course it's my\n fault. This isn't you--driving\n around all night, thinking--you're\n not a thinker.\n When she looks up at him, he forces a smile. But she doesn't\n smile back.\n\n GRACE\n Look, Fred, we have to talk\n about... about what happened this\n week.\n Fred takes a DEEP BREATH and looks around, trying to avoid\n the moment.\n\n \n\n \n\n", "I was upset so I went for a\n drive--you know, to think--and I\n must have hit a patch of sand, and\n before I knew it I was into the\n pole.\n Fred stops and looks her in the eye.\n\n FRED\n I'm sorry, Grace.\n\n GRACE\n For what?\n\n FRED\n For putting you through all this.\n Grace looks awash in guilt.\n\n GRACE\n It's not your fault, Fred.\n\n F", "and I\n shouldn't have run from you guys,\n but my wife's been in an accident\n and she's in this emergency room\n and I gotta see how she is\n because...\n\n (GROWS EMOTIONAL)\n\n .THAT WOMAN'S MY WHOLE LIFE!\n The cops look moved and unsure what to do.\n\n DOCTOR\n Are you the husband of...\n (glances down at chart)\n .Grace Searing?\n Fred strains to", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is", "laid two\n or three times at most.\n She looks up and forces a smile.\n\n MAGGIE\n Ha-ha.\n Maggie checks her watch.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Jeez, I wonder what's taking Grace\n so long?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 103.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Well, if she went over to break the\n kid's heart, the least she could do\n", "\n\n PHONE.\n\n MAGGIE\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n Oh my god... oh my god, you poor\n thing.\n Maggie looks up, shocked to see Rick.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n Hold on, Rick just walked in.\n\n (TO RICK)\n Grace was in a car accident!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 119.\n\n ", "ry WALKS OUT THE DOOR. Grace sits there alone for a\n moment. We PUSH IN ON HER and we hear Gerry's CAR START\n OUTSIDE, and when Grace STARTS TO CRY, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n This is a Tudor home in an upscale Brookline neighborhood.\n We can hear 'Rage Against The Machine' BLASTING from the\n street. There's thirty or so cars out front and", " \n\n \n\n 44.\n Grace flops into the chair across from her.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Of course I'm concerned. But what\n choice did we have?\n\n GRACE\n We could've kept the status quo. I\n mean, were things really that bad\n that we had to try something this\n extreme?\n\n MAGGIE\n For me they were.\n\n (BEAT)\n Look, you may call this a", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", " GRACE\n What are you doing here?\n He KICKS OFF THE SKI, then runs over and SHAKES HIS WET BODY\n\n ALL OVER THE GIRLS.\n\n GRACE & MAGGIE\n Gerry, stop it!\n\n GERRY\n Hey, where are the kiddies? We\n thought we'd take you all for a\n boat ride.\n\n MAGGIE\n My parents took them to Martha's\n Vineyard for the weekend", " \n\n \n\n 121.\n\n FRED\n Grace. . .do we really have to do\n this?\n Grace lowers her head guiltily.\n\n GRACE\n Yeah. Yeah, we do.\n When she looks back up, she NOTICES the SPRAY-PAINTED and\n\n BATTERED MINI-VAN.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D)\n Horny old man?\n\n FRED\n\n (MATTER-OF-FA", " GRACE\n I think we might've made a huge\n mistake.\n\n MAGGIE\n Stop thinking about it, Grace. Why\n don t you just try to get some\n sleep?\n Grace turns to Maggie.\n\n GRACE\n Sleep? I can't sleep. I don't\n understand you--how can you Just\n sit there and read knowing that\n Rick could be making out with a\n supermodel right now?\n Maggie doesn't answer.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D", "ACE\n You're kidding me? You've never\n done that? I do that all the time!\n Maggie almost smiles.\n\n MAGGIE\n Look, I understand that people have\n fantasies and that you're not\n always thinking about the person\n you're with.\n\n GRACE\n That's for sure.\n\n MAGGIE\n But it's just...I don't know... it's\n been too long since I felt that he\n was thinking about", ". I feel terrible--\n the poor kid's spending all his\n hard-earned money on me--that's\n sad. Cute, but sad.\n\n MAGGIE\n Grace, you should be flattered.\n You're thirty-eight-years-old and\n college kids are still swooning\n over you.\n\n GRACE\n Well I just feel bad if I gave him\n the wrong impression.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 81.", "\n\n MAGGIE\n The wrong impression? What makes\n you think that--I mean, besides the\n flowers, I.D. bracelet, and love\n letter?\n Maggie picks up a card.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n\n (READING)\n 'Dearest Grace--Our final game is\n tonight. Please meet me at the\n coach's place afterwards to\n celebrate. Yours truly, Gerry.'\n\n GRACE\n Thanks for piling on.\n ", " \n\n 26.\n\n DR. LUCY\n There's a wonderful principle in\n psychology called 'reactance\n theory.' It basically states that\n if you're constantly told you can't\n do something, you want to do it\n more than ever. And conversely, if\n you remove the taboo, you remove\n the obsession.\n Grace makes a 't' sound.\n\n GRACE\n\n (SARCASTIC)\n I got an idea, Doc: Why don't", "s just ...no,\n everything's not okay.\n\n GERRY\n What?\n He moves close to her and she grows uncomfortable.\n\n GRACE\n Look, you're a great cguy, Gerry,\n and you're very charming and very\n sweet and the last thing I wanted\n to do was hurt your feelings,\n but...well, what,just happened can\n never happen again.\n Gerry looks confused.\n\n GERRY\n Oh.\n\n GRACE\n", "DAY\n\n Maggie, Grace, and Dr. Lucy eat at an upscale restaurant.\n Dr. Lucy listens quietly to the women.\n\n GRACE\n Fred said five grand? What a\n blowhard!\n\n MAGGIE\n You know what's even funnier? Hog-\n head McCormick said he'd pay seven\n grand.\n\n GRACE\n What?! That bum hasn't worked since\n the dot-com bust--his wife supports\n him!\n The girls LA" ], [ "\n FRED\n Just texting Missy Frankenfield\n that we're going to be at Enter the\n Dragon--I'm covering all my bases.\n\n RICK\n You don't need Missy Frankenfield\n tonight. If we can't get the job\n done with Coakley as our wingman,\n then we're pathetic.\n Just then, Fred NOTICES something O.S.\n\n FRED\n All right, here come da man!\n CLOSE ON RESTA", "over.\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Coakley leads them into the club. Rick and Fred can't\n believe all the BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE around them.\n\n COAKLEY\n Okay, guys, you tried it your way\n and you railed miserably. You\n struck out, you were oh-for-\n everything. So now we do it my way,\n which is...\n The guys look at Coakley like Richard Gere looks at the Dalai", "\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n A bored-looking Fred is smooshed between the Chubby Blondes\n on the bed.\n\n CHUBBY BLONDE #1\n It was the greys--you know, the\n tall, skinny aliens--and they were\n all over my yard, but--and here's\n the weird thing--I wasn't at all\n afraid of them so when they asked\n me if I", "uncomfortable.\n She smiles at him and he forces a smile back, and there's\n some serious eye-contact, and then BAM!\n They DIVE AT EACH OTHER and start SUCKING FACE LIKE THERE'S\n NO TOMORROW. As they continue to MAUL EACH OTHER, they\n STUMBLE INTO THE HOUSE, and we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh are leaning against the bar.\n\n", ".)\n Hi, Mr. Mills.\n Rick turns to see that he's crammed in beside his babysitter\n Paige who's looking a LITTLE TIPSY.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 84.\n\n RICK\n Oh, hey, Paige. What are you doing\n here?\n She pulls out her license and holds it up.\n\n PAIGE\n I turned twenty-one yesterday.\n\n (DRUNKEN SMI", "\n \n\n 85\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n In fact, I thought it was very\n classy of you to be staying at the\n Holiday Inn Express instead of\n bringing girls back to your home\n with all the kids' pictures and\n schoolwork taped up everywhere.\n Rick forces a smile.\n\n RICK\n Thank you.\n A male BARTENDER, 25, finally appears in front of Rick.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Yeah", "?\n\n AUNT MEG\n I know she tried to hook-up with\n you--twice in fact--and that you\n set her straight both times.\n Fred hadn't heard this from Rick and is a little confused.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 108.\n\n FRED\n Uh...hook-up?\n\n AUNT MEG\n\n (SMILES)\n Rick, enough with the chivalry.\n Paige wanted to", "lets this all sink in, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Paige's Aunt Meg is sitting on the couch. Her legs are\n crossed revealing a lot of skin. Fred hands her a glass of\n wine and sits beside her.\n\n FRED\n Cheers.\n They CLINK glasses.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, I hope you don't mind me\n tracking you down--Paige told me\n where", "wasn't.\n She takes a moment, looks around.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 86.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n If you thought I was coming on to\n you that night, it's because...I\n was.\n Rick flinches at this. Just then the Bartender returns with\n the champagne. Rick fumbles through his pocket and finally\n pays. Then he's left alone with Paige and her coed-in-love-\n", "\n snickerdicks...Coakley's here.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n A mass of BEAUTIFUL GIRLS and SLICK GUYS vie for position\n outside this CROWDED CLUB.\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Rick, Fred and Coakley watching from\n across the street.\n\n COAKLEY\n I'm gonna need three-hundred bucks.\n\n F", "his Dodge Caravan and Paige sits in\n the passenger seat. She is on the busty side.\n\n RICK\n How were the kids tonight?\n\n PAIGE\n Perfect. That Gunnar is so cute--\n all he wants to do is wrestle with\n me.\n Rick smiles at this.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Mr. Mills, would it be okay to turn\n down the air--I'm a little chilly.\n Look--I got goose bumps", "PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Look, I promise no one's gonna find\n out. If you want, you can join me\n down at the lake--we'll listen to\n some tunes and have a couple beers.\n Rick stares at her, pictures it in his head. She looks\n hopeful, open.\n\n RICK\n I'm sorry, Paige, I can't do that.\n\n PAIGE\n Why not?\n\n RICK\n Well... it would be..", "to the Tropic finals because\n Miss North Dakota's gonna lose and\n she's gonna need a hug. And quite\n often you can parlay a hug into a\n hand-job. Rick, you're up--get us\n two bottles of Moet and six\n glasses.\n Rick shoots Fred a look, then weaves his way through a scrum\n of PEOPLE up to the bar. He tries to flag down a bartender\n but can't get anyone's attention.\n\n PAIGE (O.S", " RICK\n Well ...um...\n As Rick thinks about this, Paige moves in tighter.\n\n PAIGE\n By the way, I kind of owe you an\n apology.\n (lowers her voice,\n\n BASH\n Last week ful) when you drove me home, I\n shouldn't have snapped at you like\n that.\n\n RICK\n Oh, don't worry about it. It was a\n big misunderstanding.\n\n PAIGE\n No, it", "like it if they\n knew I was hanging out at the lake,\n all alone, drinking beer with a\n college girl?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 11.\n She seems taken aback.\n\n PAIGE\n\n (PUT-OFF)\n I never said alone. My sorority's\n having a party down there tonight.\n Rick CLEARS HIS THROAT, tries to hide his embarrassment.\n\n RICK\n All right,", " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", "tug with\n tea-bag happy ending but don't fill\n out form!\n Kimmy Long glares at him, appalled. As Fred backpedals OUT\n OF THE MASSAGE PARLOR, he waves at her weakly, and we...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. PARTY BOAT - DAY\n\n One hundred GUESTS dance on the top deck of this large ship\n as the Bee Gee's Night Fever BLASTS from the speakers.\n\n SONG\n .N", "igh seems intrigued. She moves closer still, takes his\n hand.\n\n LEIGH\n So where can we go to talk some\n more about this?\n\n RICK\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Um, Coakley has a game room\n upstairs. We could.. .talk there.\n\n WANNABE (O.S.)\n Leigh!\n Rick and Leigh look over to see an AGITATED Wannabe forcing\n his way through the crowd.\n\n WANNAB", "\n \n\n 98.\n\n FRED\n Hi. May I help you?\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Paige's Aunt Meg. She's wearing a\n skirt and low-cut tank top and has cougar written all over\n her.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, my name's Meg. I'm your\n babysitter Paige's aunt, and I just\n wanted to come over here and tell\n you this: They don't make men like\n you", "STRIP MALL - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n TIGHT ON FRED - he's wearing SHADES and has a BASEBALL CAP\n pulled down over his eyes.\n PULL BACK TO REVEAL that he's outside a MASSAGE PARLOR. As\n he approaches the massage parlor entrance, a bunch of LADIES\n walk out of the TRAVEL AGENCY just to the right so Fred veers\n into the DRY CLEANERS to the left.\n\n INT. DRY CLEANERS -" ], [ "me.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 45.\n They sit there for a moment, quiet. Then:\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n I need this hall pass to work,\n Grace, because if it doesn't, I\n don't know what's going to happen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ESTABLISHING SHOT OF OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE - NIGHT\n We see two VERY OLD COUPLES walking out", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "\n DR. LUCY (CONT'D\n I'm just saying.. .maybe a little\n freedom would be good for them. And\n for you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Have you ever considered giving\n them a hall pass?\n\n GRACE\n A what?\n\n DR. LUCY\n A hall pass. A week off from\n marriage.\n Grace and Maggie stop chewing.\n\n MAGGIE\n Wait a minute. . .Are you saying let\n them go out and", "& GRACE'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Fred and Grace climb the stairs at the end of the day.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 38.\n\n FRED\n I don't know, I think this is some\n very forward-thinking on Maggie's\n part.\n\n GRACE\n Quit lobbying--you're not getting a\n hall pass. And you mark my words,\n this is going to end up biting\n Maggie in the ass", "hall\n pass, but for me it's more of a\n Hail Mary pass. I'm serious, I\n don't know what else to do.\n Grace looks at Maggie, surprised.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Remember last week when we went to\n Lucy's award thing?\n Grace nods.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n That night when we got home, Rick\n and I were gonna.. .you know... and I\n was waiting for him in bed while", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", " GRACE\n What are you doing here?\n He KICKS OFF THE SKI, then runs over and SHAKES HIS WET BODY\n\n ALL OVER THE GIRLS.\n\n GRACE & MAGGIE\n Gerry, stop it!\n\n GERRY\n Hey, where are the kiddies? We\n thought we'd take you all for a\n boat ride.\n\n MAGGIE\n My parents took them to Martha's\n Vineyard for the weekend", ".\n At the top of the stairs Fred puts his arms around her.\n\n FRED\n Why would I need a hall pass? I've\n got you.\n\n GRACE\n Not tonight you don't. I'm too\n bloated and I have cramps.\n\n FRED\n I don't mind.\n\n GRACE\n Fred, do I have to spell it out for\n you? I'm having my period.\n\n FRED\n\n (MATTER-OF-", "CONT'D)\n Hey, about this hall pass\n business.. .1 don't want it and I\n don't need it. All I need is--\n\n MAGGIE\n I told you, this isn't negotiable.\n She turns and faces him.\n\n RICK\n You're really serious about this?\n\n MAGGIE\n Rick, this isn't something that\n I...look, I really think you need\n this. I think we need this.\n Rick doesn'", " A what?\n\n MAGGIE\n One week off from marriage.\n\n RICK\n You mean, like a trial separation?\n You are seriously overreacting.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a separation, it's a hall\n pass. You can do whatever you want.\n Get it out of your system.\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n Wait a minute--are you for real?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "DAY\n\n Maggie, Grace, and Dr. Lucy eat at an upscale restaurant.\n Dr. Lucy listens quietly to the women.\n\n GRACE\n Fred said five grand? What a\n blowhard!\n\n MAGGIE\n You know what's even funnier? Hog-\n head McCormick said he'd pay seven\n grand.\n\n GRACE\n What?! That bum hasn't worked since\n the dot-com bust--his wife supports\n him!\n The girls LA", "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", "napkins.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n So what's up with the ring?\n He looks at his finger, then back at her.\n\n RICK\n Um...have you ever heard of a hall\n pass?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BALL TEAM BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Grace pulls up in her Camry and gets out. She hears MUSIC\n coming from inside and hesitates a BEAT before walking\n nervously onto the porch and KNO", ".\n You two go out and have a good time-\n -cripes, you haven't been out all\n week.\n Grace perks up at this.\n\n MAGGIE\n Oh, I don't know, Dad, we really\n\n HADN'T PLANNED--\n\n GRACE\n Excuse me, can I have a word with\n you?\n Grace pulls Maggie aside.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D)\n\n (WHISPERING)\n ", " GRACE\n I think we might've made a huge\n mistake.\n\n MAGGIE\n Stop thinking about it, Grace. Why\n don t you just try to get some\n sleep?\n Grace turns to Maggie.\n\n GRACE\n Sleep? I can't sleep. I don't\n understand you--how can you Just\n sit there and read knowing that\n Rick could be making out with a\n supermodel right now?\n Maggie doesn't answer.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is", "you\n try a hall pass out on your husband\n and let us know how it works out.\n\n DR. LUCY\n Oh, I have.\n Grace and Maggie REACT to this.\n\n MAGGIE\n You're telling us you let Charlie\n sleep with another woman?\n Dr. Lucy takes a moment before answering.\n\n DR. LUCY\n I am not telling you that. I am\n telling you that I gave him the\n freedom to choose for himself.\n\n GRACE\n And" ], [ "DRIVES OFF toward the TWO\n ASIAN FOURSOMES waiting on the tee behind them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n SUPER:\n\n 27 MINUTES LATER\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY\n\n The four guys are unnaturally bunched together on another\n fairway.\n\n RICK\n Think. Where did you last see it?\n\n GARY\n On the course.\n\n RICK\n Where", " 51.\n\n RICK\n Shut up, Fred.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Guys, I gotta go poo again.\n\n GARY\n I didn't lose it, I think it was\n stolen.\n\n RICK\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Who would steal a golf cart?\n Gary shrugs.\n\n GARY\n Criminals?\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Does anyone have any napkins?\n\n GARY\n ", "S Hog-head down in a greenside bunker\n PULLING UP HIS PANTS. As he starts to KICK SAND over his\n O.S. POOP like a cat in its litter box, we HEAR a noise and\n the guys look up.\n THEIR POV - the Golf Ranger comes flying over a hill heading\n straight for them.\n\n FRED\n Run for it!\n The guys run toward Rick's cart, jump in, and take off. Rick\n and Fred are in the seats, while", "I don't know--you tell me!\n Gary starts to LAUGH MANIACALLY. The Ranger turns to Rick,\n annoyed.\n\n RANGER\n Look, this is the third time I've\n had to flag your group and you're\n only on the fourth hole. Now if I\n have to come out here again, you're\n done for the day.\n\n RICK\n Gotcha. We'll pick it up, sir.\n The Ranger shoots them a look and", "on the course?\n\n GARY\n I don't know--on a fairway, I\n think. I clot out, grabbed my club,\n took a swing, and when I turned\n around it had disappeared.\n\n RICK\n You're serious? You're telling us\n you lost your golf cart?\n\n FRED\n\n (STONER VOICE)\n Dude, where's my golf cart?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n", "Look, all I know is I had it on the\n seventh tee and now it's gone.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about? We're\n only on the sixth hole.\n\n GARY\n What? Did we miss a hole? Where's\n my kids?\n Rick closes his eyes and rubs his head, trying to keep it\n together. Then he NOTICES something O.S..\n\n RICK\n Oh, come on, man!\n ANOTHER ANGLE REVEAL", "og-head SPRAWLED OUT ON HIS BACK IN\n A SAND TRAP. He's not moving.\n\n FRED\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Hog-head...? Are you okay?\n As Hog-head starts to make SNOW ANGELS IN THE SAND, an\n elderly COURSE RANGER pulls up in a golf cart.\n\n RANGER\n What the hell is he doing?\n Rick and Fred grow visibly tense at the sight of an authority\n figure", "having\n lunch with their two young children. Their 7-Year-Old\n Daughter is again dressed just like her mother and the 5-Year-\n Old Son is dressed like the father.\n\n 7-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER\n Hey, Mom, look!\n The family turns to see...\n THEIR POV - a stoned-looking Rick, Fred, Hog-head and Gary\n are driving the golf cart down the city street. They stop at\n a traffic light beside them. All the guys stare straight\n ahead", ".\n THEIR POV - From fifty yards across the parking lot, they can\n see that Fred's mini-van's windshield has just been BASHED IN\n by the BAT-WIELDING Wannabe. On the side of the vehicle is\n spray-painted: HORNY OLD MAN.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Whoa!!! What the hell...?!\n Wannabe turns to them, a CRAZED LOOK on his face.\n\n WANNABE\n How", "batten down the\n hatches.\n\n FRED\n That's right. Tonight we build up\n strength, tomorrow we make\n landfall.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n Law & Order MUSIC CUE as we SUPER:\n\n DAY 2\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - MORNING\n\n Rick, Fred, Hog-head, and Gary are stretching on the first\n tee of a local FOUR-STAR GOLF RESORT while taking", "\n\n RICK\n Hog-head, come on, who eats pot\n brownies at eleven in the morning\n when they're playing golf?\n\n HOG-HEAD\n John Daly?\n\n GARY\n And by the way, Rick, this is\n spring break! You've got a hall\n pass! Live it up, man! It'll\n probably help your rap with the\n ladies later.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Gary's right--when are we ever\n gonna", "those\n things.\n As Rick drops his club and walks toward the brownies, we\n\n SUPER:\n\n 75 MINUTES LATER\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY\n\n A dazed and confused Rick and Fred are RECLINING in their\n cart in the middle of the fairway. For a while neither of\n them speak. Then:\n\n FRED\n What kind of soap do you use?\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n ", "guys nod their approval.\n\n BAKER\n Man, imagine being Coakley? The\n guy's single, he's loaded, chicks\n love him, he doesn't have to answer\n to anybody.\n\n GARY\n That's the life.\n\n FRED\n That is the life.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Let me ask you something: What\n would you guys pay to have your way\n with a Hawaiian Tropic girl for an\n entire weekend?\n The guys", "in the\n sights. Nearby, we see the hotel swimming pool lined with\n ATTRACTIVE WOMEN in bikinis.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 47.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Wow. This place sure beats the hell\n out of the Holiday Inn Express. Why\n aren't you staying here?\n\n RICK\n Too pricey. Besides, since we're\n paying for golf we get full access\n to the resort--including the pool", " BAKER\n What do you think he's doing there?\n The guys all nod at this, proud of him.\n\n RICK\n Look, before we go bagging any\n chicks, I gotta get a hunk of beef\n in me.\n\n GARY\n Hey, I got a guy over at Outback\n Steak House who could set us up.\n\n BAKER\n Ooooh, he's got pull over at\n Outback. Wow.\n\n RICK\n Hey", "of swings.\n A moment later the guys are gone and a humbled Rick and Fred\n sit there feeling alone.\n\n FRED\n\n (BEING BRAVE)\n This is actually good--you know,\n that they're leaving. You don't\n need five hunters to bag two birds.\n\n RICK\n No, you do not. And I love those\n guys but, let's be honest, they're\n not exactly chick-magnets.\n\n FRED\n You", "dead. Not just for\n us...but for all mankind.\n Rick thinks about this for a moment, then stands up with a\n\n RENEWED SENSE OF PURPOSE.\n\n RICK\n All right, let's get out of here. I\n know exactly where we should be.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BALL TEAM BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n The party's in full swing. A hundred or so PLAYERS, PLAYER'S\n GIRLFRI", ", I like Outback. Let's chug\n these and hit the road.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 43.\n As the guys drink up, Hog-head puts his arm around Gary.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Hey, Gar, you don't happen to have\n any connections at 7/11, do ya?\n Maybe someone could hook me up with\n a player's card so I can cut right\n to the front of the raspberry\n sl", "with doggie bags.\n\n INT. OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE - SAME\n\n Our five guys are in a MEAT COMA, slouched in their chairs\n nursing red wines and talking through PURPLE TEETH. Several\n\n EMPTY WINE BOTTLES, MARTINI GLASSES, HALF-EATEN STEAKS,\n CARVED UP POTATO AU GRATIN and CREAMED SPINACH PLATES, and\n MANGLED KEY-LIME PIES litter the table", "\n\n 48.\n\n FRED\n With who?\n\n GARY\n Guy who washes my dog. Go ahead.\n He holds out the bag and the guys hesitate.\n\n GARY (CONT'D)\n Eating it isn't like smoking it.\n It's a much mellower buzz--you'll\n just feel relaxed.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Are they chocolatey?\n As Hog-Head SNIFFS the brownies, Rick takes a practice swing." ], [ "#1\n Are you having chest pains, sir?\n\n RICK\n\n (WINDED)\n No, no, I think I was...in the hot\n tub too long. I can't feel my body.\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL #2\n How long were you in there?\n\n RICK\n What time is it?\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL #2\n Seven-thirty.\n\n RICK\n About three hours.\n ", " flabby, middle-aged dad tries to climb to safety.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Help ...me...\n Just as Rick starts to go under, the two young naked\n metrosexuals hear his MOANS and come to his rescue. They\n jump in the hot tub and heave him ashore. As Rick GASPS for\n air, one of the metrosexuals kneels down and lifts Rick's\n head onto his NAKED LAP.\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL", "the hot tub into a BUBBLY\n\n CAULDRON.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 77.\n\n RICK\n Oh...yes.\n He bunches up his towel and puts it behind his head, then\n settles in and CLOSES HIS EYES.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n SAME SCENE - LATER\n Rick is in a DEEP SLEEP. His mouth is wide open but his head\n is", "talks to ANOTHER NAKED MAN,\n he fills his hand with SHAVING CREAM and the hand DISAPPEARS\n BETWEEN HIS OWN LEGS. The guys continue their conversation,\n unfazed. Then the Metrosexual starts to SHAVE HIS BALLS.\n As Rick dries his hands, he can't contain himself.\n\n RICK\n What's that about--you swimming the\n English Channel?\n The Metrosexual shoots Rick an annoyed look.\n\n M", "BARELY ABOVE WATER as he SNORES LOUDLY. He dips beneath\n the surface and as he begins to CHOKE and COUGH, he wakes up.\n Rick takes a moment to get his bearings, then STRUGGLES to\n get out of the hot tub. But his MUSCLES HAVE TURNED TO JELLY.\n\n RICK\n\n (WEAKLY)\n Little help...\n When none comes, a life-and-death STRUGGLE ensues as the\n", "ACK to reveal that he's SITTING ON THE TOILET.\n\n INT. HEALTH CLUB - MEN'S LOCKER ROOM - SEVERAL MINUTES LATER\n\n We hear a FLUSH. Rick shuffles out of a stall and moves to a\n sink. While he washes his hands, a young, NAKED, METROSEXUAL-\n TYPE whips his leg into the sink beside him. Rick slowly\n turns to look.\n RICK'S POV - as the Metrosexual", "That's when Rick realizes that his head is RESTING ON THE\n GUY'S COCK. He tries to roll off him, but Metrosexual #1\n\n HOLDS HIM TIGHT.\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL #1\n Try not to move, sir.\n\n RICK\n I'm okay, just help me up.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 78.\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL #", "ETROSEXUAL\n Nah, Just not into looking like the\n knuckle-dragging guy on the\n evolution-of-man chart.\n Off Rick looking self-consciously down at his fur-covered\n body, we go...\n\n INT. HOT TUB ROOM - A FEW MINUTES LATER\n\n Rick ENTERS the empty hot tub room, takes off his towel, and\n eases into the STEAMING WATER. He hits a button and the jets\n kick on FULL BLAST, turning", "him\n across the room, we\n ANGLE ON - two TANNED, HAIRLESS METROSEXUAL ASSES flanking\n Rick's HIRSUTE BUTT.\n\n RICK\n Okay, thanks, guys. I can take it\n from here.\n The metrosexuals release Rick and he gets about two steps\n before his LEGS GIVE OUT and he TUMBLES DOWN A SMALL FLIGHT\n\n OF STEPS.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n ", "1\n\n (TO METROSEXUAL #2)\n All right, give him a hand.\n Metrosexual #2 straddles Rick's chest and leans down to pull\n him up. As Rick starts to rise, HIS FACE COMES PERILOUSLY\n CLOSE TO THE SECOND MAN'S O.S. DANGLING COCK and Rick has to\n\n TURN HIS HEAD TO AVOID CONTACT.\n They finally get Rick to his feet. As the naked men help", "\n RICK\n Hoch-head, relax, the pool bar ain't\n going nowhere. Besides, it'll be\n good for us to get a little sun\n before making our grand entrance--\n chicks love a healthy glow.\n\n FRED\n Plus it wouldn't hurt to work up a\n little sweat--get those pheromones\n flying.\n Just then, two sexy BEER-CART GIRLS wave as they pass.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n You talked me into it.\n\n", "Baker gets up from his stool.\n\n RICK\n\n (TAKEN ABACK)\n What? Why?\n\n BAKER\n I wanted to watch you guys pick up\n chicks, not talk about dicks.\n\n FRED\n Hey, greased lightning, let off the\n gas--sometimes these things take\n time.\n\n GARY\n Baker's right. This is day three\n and you haven't even talked to a\n girl.\n\n RICK\n\n", " and she got shaken up a bit, but\n all in all she's a very lucky\n woman.\n\n FRED\n You got that wrong, doc. I'm the\n lucky one.\n Fred is visibly relieved as the doctor smiles and walks off.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Bless you, doctor!\n Fred turns to Rick and the two men hug and then Rick grabs\n Fred by the shoulders and looks him in the eye.\n\n \n\n", " BAKER\n What do you think he's doing there?\n The guys all nod at this, proud of him.\n\n RICK\n Look, before we go bagging any\n chicks, I gotta get a hunk of beef\n in me.\n\n GARY\n Hey, I got a guy over at Outback\n Steak House who could set us up.\n\n BAKER\n Ooooh, he's got pull over at\n Outback. Wow.\n\n RICK\n Hey", "some initiative and STANDS UP.\n\n BAKER\n Come on, you guys! I say we go to a\n strip club and smoke cigars--\n that 11 wake us up!\n\n RICK\n I got a better idea.\n Rick STRETCHES.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Let's go night-night.\n\n BAKER\n What?\n\n RICK\n I say we tie a bow on it and put\n her to bed. This", " Maggie shoots him a look and Rick smiles.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding. Okay, kids, first one\n in the tub gets college paid for.\n Emma and Gunnar just stare at him.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Come on, you bums, let's go!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 4.\n As Rick starts to tickle his kids they run out of the room,\n\n AND WE\n", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B", ".\n\n BAKER\n Okay... so where to now?\n Rick can't think in this state.\n\n RICK\n Fred...?\n\n FRED\n Hm?\n\n RICK\n Answer Baker.\n\n FRED\n What's the question?\n\n RICK\n What are we doing for the rest of\n the night?\n\n FRED\n\n (DISINTERESTED)\n I don't know. Getting laid, right?\n\n ", "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT" ], [ "Leigh.\n\n RICK\n You do?\n Leigh nods and starts to straighten up the tables.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I work-out at home, but I was\n thinking of going public with my\n work-outs. What do you squat?\n She seems amused by this.\n\n LEIGH\n I don't really squat, just run on\n the hamster-wheel everyday after\n work.\n She starts wiping down a table.\n\n CO", "in and gives\n Leigh a kiss on the cheek. He has a pair of headphones\n hanging around his neck.\n\n WANNABE\n Wassup, girl?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 87.\n Wannabe NOTICES Rick and loses his smile.\n\n WANNABE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hey. What are you doing here--\n you auditing the place?\n\n RICK\n Actually, I work for Sir", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 109.\n\n LEIGH\n Really? Are you feeling okay?\n You're not mad because I went\n outside with my friend, are you?\n\n RICK\n No, no, no. Look, I shouldn't be\n doing this. I have.. .you know,\n commitments.\n Leigh nods at this, then unties a shoulder strap and her\n DRESS FALLS TO THE FLOOR. Suddenly she'", "\n whether that be fishing, or\n watching TV, whatever it is that\n relaxes you.\n\n FLATS\n\n (DUBIOUS)\n Oh, I didn't know that.\n Just then Rick NOTICES Leigh (dressed in work-out clothes)\n walking down the sidewalk toward the gym.\n\n RICK\n Uh, Flatsy, I gotta run. I'm late\n for my work-out appointment.\n When Rick hops out of his car, we see that he's", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B", "igh seems intrigued. She moves closer still, takes his\n hand.\n\n LEIGH\n So where can we go to talk some\n more about this?\n\n RICK\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Um, Coakley has a game room\n upstairs. We could.. .talk there.\n\n WANNABE (O.S.)\n Leigh!\n Rick and Leigh look over to see an AGITATED Wannabe forcing\n his way through the crowd.\n\n WANNAB", "insane, she's\n just making really poor decisions\n right now.\n (hands him his car keys)\n Here, give Rick the keys to my mini-\n van. I'm gonna go back to the hotel\n with Missy.\n Coakley looks back at Missy and softens.\n\n COAKLEY\n It's your funeral, princess.\n BACK ON RICK AND LEIGH dancing up a storm. Rick is OUT OF\n BREATH and SWEATING LIKE A PIG. His shirt is", "parked across the street from FITNESS FIRM HEALTH\n CLUB. He's reading the newspaper and glancing at the\n entrance for Leigh. Suddenly there's a LOUD TAP on the\n window and Rick looks over to see Flats (who we met at Rick's\n poker night) standing outside with a shit-eating grin. Rick\n rolls down the window.\n\n FLATS\n Hey, Rick.\n\n RICK\n\n (STARTLED)\n Oh...hey, Flats. How you doing", "himself FACE-TO-FACE WITH\n\n LEIGH.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, where are you going?\n\n RICK\n What are you doing...? I thought\n you'd left.\n\n LEIGH\n No. I told you, I just had to talk\n him off the ledge. I calmed him\n down and sent him on his way.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Uh, great.\n\n LEIGH\n So where's that game room? I\n thought", "have me.\n Leigh smiles. And it's the kind of smile you only get two or\n three times in your life, if you're lucky, and probably never\n from a woman this beautiful.\n She reaches down and UNBUCKLES HIS PANTS, then she PULLS OFF\n HIS SHIRT. They stand face-to-face now, the middle-aged guy\n and the young beauty, and it's happening exactly the way Rick\n had hoped it would, the dream.\n She presses her body against his and ST", "we were gonna play some\n games.\n She smiles and takes his hand and as they walk away, we go...\n\n INT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh walk down the hall to the game room. He opens\n the door and flips on the light.\n THEIR POV - there's a pool table, a few pinball machines, a\n bar, and a bed.\n\n LEIGH\n I'll be right back--I just have to\n use", "She hands Rick his change and he dumps it in the tip jar.\n\n RICK\n Nice soundtrack. Pretty solid\n movie, too.\n Wannabe BARKS out a LAUGH.\n\n WANNABE\n Dude, you're thinking of Snow Do s--\n the Cuba Gooding kiddie flick. This\n is Snow Patrol, the band.\n Rick shrugs, a little embarrassed.\n\n LEIGH\n Thanks for the tip.\n As Leigh grabs a cup and goes", "uncomfortable.\n She smiles at him and he forces a smile back, and there's\n some serious eye-contact, and then BAM!\n They DIVE AT EACH OTHER and start SUCKING FACE LIKE THERE'S\n NO TOMORROW. As they continue to MAUL EACH OTHER, they\n STUMBLE INTO THE HOUSE, and we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh are leaning against the bar.\n\n", "IMBS ON TOP OF FRED, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - GAME ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Rick ENTERS to find Leigh playing a pinball machine. Leigh\n turns and smiles at Rick.\n\n RICK\n Leigh, I gotta split.\n\n LEIGH\n What?\n\n RICK\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Yeah, I kind of hit a wall.\n She can hardly believe her ears.\n\n", ". It appears Wannabe may even\n be crying. Finally, Wannabe storms across the room but when\n he gets to the door, he looks back at Leigh.\n\n WANNABE\n Well? Are you coming?\n Leigh SIGHS, then approaches Rick.\n\n LEIGH\n I'm sorry, Rick. I have to go deal\n with this.\n Rick can't believe what's happening.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 102.", " LEIGH\n So...you're married?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 95\n\n RICK\n I wasn't deliberately hiding it.\n He holds up his ring hand.\n\n LEIGH\n Yeah, I just thought your wife had\n died or something and you were\n wearing it out of respect.\n\n RICK\n\n (UNCOMFORTABLE)\n Uh, nope. She's still hangin' in\n there", "\n\n RICK\n Really? Now? I thought you said he\n wasn't your boyfriend.\n\n LEIGH\n He's not...but he is a friend.\n Leigh glances at the broken-down Wannabe standing there at\n the door, then turns back to Rick.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm sorry.\n Before Rick can stop her, Leigh LEAVES THE PARTY with\n Wannabe. After a LONG BEAT, Rick slides down into a chair,\n", "\n RICK\n Uh, she knows how I like it.\n\n WANNABE\n\n (ATTITUDE)\n Little help, Leigh--your unique\n barista skills have been requested.\n Rick waves weakly to Leigh and winks. As Leigh approaches,\n Wannabe mocks Rick by waving at him and winking.\n\n LEIGH\n Hi. What would you like?\n Rick was hoping to have a conversation but Wannabe is\n crowding them.\n\n ", "PEOPLE are\n still arriving.\n\n INT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - SAME\n\n The place is JAMMING. It's a nice house but under-furnished\n in a bachelor pad kind of way. Rick and Leigh are in a\n corner drinking beers.\n\n LEIGH\n I guess I still have a lot to get\n out of my system before I do the\n marriage trip. I'm one of those\n people who wants to try everything\n once before I die.\n\n" ], [ " RICK\n\n (BLURTING OUT)\n Have you ever been with a married\n guy?\n Leigh pauses, but she doesn't flinch.\n\n LEIGH\n No.\n\n RICK\n Neither have I.\n Rick winces, but Leigh smiles at him. It's the moment of\n truth.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I'd like to help you take being\n with a married guy off your list of\n things to do before you die.", "\n\n LEIGH\n You would?\n\n RICK\n Yes.\n Leigh gets close.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 101.\n\n LEIGH\n I don't want to be a home-wrecker.\n\n RICK\n I've got a one-time pass, remember?\n\n LEIGH\n That wasn't just a line?\n\n RICK\n No. It's for real.\n Le", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 109.\n\n LEIGH\n Really? Are you feeling okay?\n You're not mad because I went\n outside with my friend, are you?\n\n RICK\n No, no, no. Look, I shouldn't be\n doing this. I have.. .you know,\n commitments.\n Leigh nods at this, then unties a shoulder strap and her\n DRESS FALLS TO THE FLOOR. Suddenly she'", "ARTS TO KISS HIS NECK,\n her hand DISAPPEARING SOMEWHERE BELOW HIS WAIST. Then she\n leans her head AGAINST HIS CHEST. As he looks down at her,\n we PUSH IN on a suddenly conflicted Rick.\n\n RICK\n Nope. I can't do this.\n He reaches for his shirt.\n\n LEIGH\n What are you doing?\n\n RICK\n I'm sorry.\n She stares at him,", "insane, she's\n just making really poor decisions\n right now.\n (hands him his car keys)\n Here, give Rick the keys to my mini-\n van. I'm gonna go back to the hotel\n with Missy.\n Coakley looks back at Missy and softens.\n\n COAKLEY\n It's your funeral, princess.\n BACK ON RICK AND LEIGH dancing up a storm. Rick is OUT OF\n BREATH and SWEATING LIKE A PIG. His shirt is", "re mistaken. Look,\n dude, this ain't Operation Cock-\n block here--now trust me, retreat.\n Rick glances back at Leigh, torn. She looks fantastic.\n\n RICK\n Coak, I'm never gonna have another\n hall pass, so this memory has to\n last a lifetime. . .you know what I\n mean?\n Coakley looks at Leigh and SIGHS.\n\n COAKLEY\n All right, I'll be at the bar when\n this thing blows", "\n\n RICK\n Really? Now? I thought you said he\n wasn't your boyfriend.\n\n LEIGH\n He's not...but he is a friend.\n Leigh glances at the broken-down Wannabe standing there at\n the door, then turns back to Rick.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm sorry.\n Before Rick can stop her, Leigh LEAVES THE PARTY with\n Wannabe. After a LONG BEAT, Rick slides down into a chair,\n", "RICK\n Um...do you want me to give you a\n ride home?\n\n LEIGH\n No. It's only one-thirty--I'm going\n back down to the party.\n Rick raises two fingers.\n\n RICK\n Peace it.\n\n LEIGH\n R-O-C-K in the U-S-A.\n As they smile at each other one last time, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FRED'S MINIVAN - NIGHT\n", "uncomfortable.\n She smiles at him and he forces a smile back, and there's\n some serious eye-contact, and then BAM!\n They DIVE AT EACH OTHER and start SUCKING FACE LIKE THERE'S\n NO TOMORROW. As they continue to MAUL EACH OTHER, they\n STUMBLE INTO THE HOUSE, and we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh are leaning against the bar.\n\n", "igh seems intrigued. She moves closer still, takes his\n hand.\n\n LEIGH\n So where can we go to talk some\n more about this?\n\n RICK\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Um, Coakley has a game room\n upstairs. We could.. .talk there.\n\n WANNABE (O.S.)\n Leigh!\n Rick and Leigh look over to see an AGITATED Wannabe forcing\n his way through the crowd.\n\n WANNAB", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 90.\n ON RICK - he looks over at Wannabe but CONTINUES TO DANCE.\n\n RICK\n Is this guy your boyfriend or\n something?\n\n LEIGH\n No, no, no.\n She waves it off, then shrugs guiltily.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n One time we messed around a little.\n\n RICK\n And what does 'messed around a\n little'", "have me.\n Leigh smiles. And it's the kind of smile you only get two or\n three times in your life, if you're lucky, and probably never\n from a woman this beautiful.\n She reaches down and UNBUCKLES HIS PANTS, then she PULLS OFF\n HIS SHIRT. They stand face-to-face now, the middle-aged guy\n and the young beauty, and it's happening exactly the way Rick\n had hoped it would, the dream.\n She presses her body against his and ST", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B", "confused, as he buckles his pants.\n\n LEIGH\n Your wife didn't give you a hallway\n permission slip, did she?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 110.\n\n RICK\n Yes, she did, but... look, you're\n insanely beautiful and\n pathologically sexy and every cell\n in my body is telling me to dust do\n this, but--\n Rick points to his chest.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", "we were gonna play some\n games.\n She smiles and takes his hand and as they walk away, we go...\n\n INT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh walk down the hall to the game room. He opens\n the door and flips on the light.\n THEIR POV - there's a pool table, a few pinball machines, a\n bar, and a bed.\n\n LEIGH\n I'll be right back--I just have to\n use", "PEOPLE are\n still arriving.\n\n INT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - SAME\n\n The place is JAMMING. It's a nice house but under-furnished\n in a bachelor pad kind of way. Rick and Leigh are in a\n corner drinking beers.\n\n LEIGH\n I guess I still have a lot to get\n out of my system before I do the\n marriage trip. I'm one of those\n people who wants to try everything\n once before I die.\n\n", "Leigh.\n\n RICK\n You do?\n Leigh nods and starts to straighten up the tables.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I work-out at home, but I was\n thinking of going public with my\n work-outs. What do you squat?\n She seems amused by this.\n\n LEIGH\n I don't really squat, just run on\n the hamster-wheel everyday after\n work.\n She starts wiping down a table.\n\n CO", "Man, that Barney Fife still kills\n me.\n He looks back to Rick.\n\n COAKLEY (CONT'D)\n Hey, I was thinking about this hall-\n pass business. It's really ironic,\n isn't it?\n Rick glances down the hall to see if Leigh has returned.\n\n RICK\n How's that?\n\n COAKLEY\n Well think about it. There's two\n kinds of guys who cheat on their\n wives: The guy", "\n Rick.\n\n LEIGH\n He's looking to join.\n\n CLYDE\n Great. I'll get you signed up.\n Leigh pats Rick's hand.\n\n LEIGH\n See ya.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 76.\n She turns to leave.\n\n RICK\n So, uh, are you gonna grab a\n brewski after your work-out?\n\n LEIGH\n Nah.\n" ], [ "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--", " A what?\n\n MAGGIE\n One week off from marriage.\n\n RICK\n You mean, like a trial separation?\n You are seriously overreacting.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a separation, it's a hall\n pass. You can do whatever you want.\n Get it out of your system.\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n Wait a minute--are you for real?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "do? She made me call\n the Longs and apologize.\n Rick flinches.\n\n RICK\n Oof .\n\n FRED\n How 'bout you--did Maggie freak out\n when you got home?\n\n RICK\n Uh... sort of.\n Rick peeks out the kitchen door to make sure the Goldberg's\n aren't listening. Then:\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n She gave me a hall pass.\n\n FRED\n A what", ",\n man?\n\n FLATS\n Great. What's up with you? How's\n that hall pass thing going?\n Rick makes a Scooby Doo sound, alarmed.\n\n RICK\n Who told you about that--was it Hog-\n head?\n\n FLATS\n No. Some old lady was yakking about\n it down at the post office.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n FLATS (CONT'D)\n\n (BIG", "what he's spawned.\n\n RICK\n Really? So...how's it going?\n\n BOSHANE\n Solid. Very solid.\n\n LEARY\n We're building mucho momentumo.\n Baker makes a JERK-OFF MOTION.\n\n LEARY (CONT'D)\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Hey, Baker, a hall pass ain't just\n about sex, you know.\n\n BOSHANE\n That'", "\n DR. LUCY (CONT'D\n I'm just saying.. .maybe a little\n freedom would be good for them. And\n for you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Have you ever considered giving\n them a hall pass?\n\n GRACE\n A what?\n\n DR. LUCY\n A hall pass. A week off from\n marriage.\n Grace and Maggie stop chewing.\n\n MAGGIE\n Wait a minute. . .Are you saying let\n them go out and", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", "CONT'D)\n Hey, about this hall pass\n business.. .1 don't want it and I\n don't need it. All I need is--\n\n MAGGIE\n I told you, this isn't negotiable.\n She turns and faces him.\n\n RICK\n You're really serious about this?\n\n MAGGIE\n Rick, this isn't something that\n I...look, I really think you need\n this. I think we need this.\n Rick doesn'", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of", "both early 40's\n and paunchy.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 104.\n\n BAKER\n When Leary and Boshane heard about\n your guy's hall pass, they\n convinced their wives to give them\n one, too.\n A smiling Leary tries to HIGH-FIVE Rick, but he's having none\n of it. He turns to Baker, livid.\n", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", " All right, don't give up.\n\n FRED\n I'm not giving up, I'm facing facts-\n -this is our last day and we got\n nothing cooking. Maybe you were\n right. Maybe we should just tell\n the girls to come home.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79.\n\n RICK\n No. I want the hall pass.\n Fred looks at Rick, surprised.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n At", "\n RICK\n You weren't supposed to tell anyone\n about the hall pass!\n\n LEARY\n They didn't say anything. Our wives\n heard about it at the pool.\n\n RICK\n No! At the pool?!\n Rick rubs his face, distressed.\n\n BOSHANE\n Yep. And then about three days ago--\n after some hard-core negotiating--\n we managed to push the bill\n through.\n The guys LAUGH. Rick can hardly believe", "going to make it--\n having a hall pass partner?\n\n FRED\n And it's not just me--Baker, Gary,\n and Hog-head are coming out with us\n tonight!\n\n RICK\n No way?! They got hall passes,\n too?!\n\n FRED\n No, no, no--they just want to\n watch.\n Rick grows concerned.\n\n RICK\n You think that's a good idea,\n letting them in on it? What if they\n ", " just say?\n\n PAIGE\n I was asking about your hall pass.\n (off Rick's look)\n I baby-sit for the Putneys and I\n heard Gary talking about it the\n other night at their barbecue.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n RICK\n He was talking about it at a\n barbecue?!\n\n PAIGE\n Oh, he wasn't saying it in a bad\n way.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "re mistaken. Look,\n dude, this ain't Operation Cock-\n block here--now trust me, retreat.\n Rick glances back at Leigh, torn. She looks fantastic.\n\n RICK\n Coak, I'm never gonna have another\n hall pass, so this memory has to\n last a lifetime. . .you know what I\n mean?\n Coakley looks at Leigh and SIGHS.\n\n COAKLEY\n All right, I'll be at the bar when\n this thing blows" ], [ " RICK\n Well ...um...\n As Rick thinks about this, Paige moves in tighter.\n\n PAIGE\n By the way, I kind of owe you an\n apology.\n (lowers her voice,\n\n BASH\n Last week ful) when you drove me home, I\n shouldn't have snapped at you like\n that.\n\n RICK\n Oh, don't worry about it. It was a\n big misunderstanding.\n\n PAIGE\n No, it", "?\n\n AUNT MEG\n I know she tried to hook-up with\n you--twice in fact--and that you\n set her straight both times.\n Fred hadn't heard this from Rick and is a little confused.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 108.\n\n FRED\n Uh...hook-up?\n\n AUNT MEG\n\n (SMILES)\n Rick, enough with the chivalry.\n Paige wanted to", "PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Look, I promise no one's gonna find\n out. If you want, you can join me\n down at the lake--we'll listen to\n some tunes and have a couple beers.\n Rick stares at her, pictures it in his head. She looks\n hopeful, open.\n\n RICK\n I'm sorry, Paige, I can't do that.\n\n PAIGE\n Why not?\n\n RICK\n Well... it would be..", "lets this all sink in, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Paige's Aunt Meg is sitting on the couch. Her legs are\n crossed revealing a lot of skin. Fred hands her a glass of\n wine and sits beside her.\n\n FRED\n Cheers.\n They CLINK glasses.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, I hope you don't mind me\n tracking you down--Paige told me\n where", ".)\n Hi, Mr. Mills.\n Rick turns to see that he's crammed in beside his babysitter\n Paige who's looking a LITTLE TIPSY.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 84.\n\n RICK\n Oh, hey, Paige. What are you doing\n here?\n She pulls out her license and holds it up.\n\n PAIGE\n I turned twenty-one yesterday.\n\n (DRUNKEN SMI", ".inappropriate.\n Rick's voice has taken on a firmer, more adult tone. Paige\n seems amused by it.\n\n PAIGE\n What, is that your grown-up voice?\n\n (SMILES)\n That would be inappropriate, Paige.\n\n COME ON--\n\n RICK\n No, Paige.\n (with an edge)\n What are you thinking? I'm a\n married man and I have a family.\n You think they'd", "'s my\n age.\n\n RICK\n Nice.\n Rick continues to try to get the bartender's attention.\n\n PAIGE\n So, Rick, how's the hall pass\n going?\n Paige smirks at Rick who shrinks a little.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n You don't mind if I call you Rick,\n do you? I am officially an adult\n now.\n\n RICK\n No, of course not--what did you\n", "\n \n\n 85\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n In fact, I thought it was very\n classy of you to be staying at the\n Holiday Inn Express instead of\n bringing girls back to your home\n with all the kids' pictures and\n schoolwork taped up everywhere.\n Rick forces a smile.\n\n RICK\n Thank you.\n A male BARTENDER, 25, finally appears in front of Rick.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Yeah", "wasn't.\n She takes a moment, looks around.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 86.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n If you thought I was coming on to\n you that night, it's because...I\n was.\n Rick flinches at this. Just then the Bartender returns with\n the champagne. Rick fumbles through his pocket and finally\n pays. Then he's left alone with Paige and her coed-in-love-\n", "\n \n\n 98.\n\n FRED\n Hi. May I help you?\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Paige's Aunt Meg. She's wearing a\n skirt and low-cut tank top and has cougar written all over\n her.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, my name's Meg. I'm your\n babysitter Paige's aunt, and I just\n wanted to come over here and tell\n you this: They don't make men like\n you", " just say?\n\n PAIGE\n I was asking about your hall pass.\n (off Rick's look)\n I baby-sit for the Putneys and I\n heard Gary talking about it the\n other night at their barbecue.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n RICK\n He was talking about it at a\n barbecue?!\n\n PAIGE\n Oh, he wasn't saying it in a bad\n way.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "his Dodge Caravan and Paige sits in\n the passenger seat. She is on the busty side.\n\n RICK\n How were the kids tonight?\n\n PAIGE\n Perfect. That Gunnar is so cute--\n all he wants to do is wrestle with\n me.\n Rick smiles at this.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Mr. Mills, would it be okay to turn\n down the air--I'm a little chilly.\n Look--I got goose bumps", ".. .How old are you?\n\n PAIGE\n Twenty. But I'm turning twenty-one\n next week.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Happy birthday. That's a\n biggie.\n\n PAIGE\n Yeah. My aunt usually buys beer for\n me, but she's out of town.\n\n (SMILES HOPEFULLY)\n So. . .could ya?\n\n RICK\n Uh, I don't know, Paige...I could\n", " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B", "like it if they\n knew I was hanging out at the lake,\n all alone, drinking beer with a\n college girl?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 11.\n She seems taken aback.\n\n PAIGE\n\n (PUT-OFF)\n I never said alone. My sorority's\n having a party down there tonight.\n Rick CLEARS HIS THROAT, tries to hide his embarrassment.\n\n RICK\n All right,", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "better get inside.\n She opens the car door, then glares back at him.\n\n PAIGE\n Ewww. What the hell were you\n thinking?\n\n RICK\n Go ahead. Scoot along now.\n As she SLAMS the car door, we...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Rick bounds up the stairs to find Maggie gently closing\n Gunnar's bedroom door.\n\n MAGGIE", "LE)\n I'm legal now.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Well, happy birthday. You out\n celebrating?\n\n PAIGE\n Yeah, I'm here with my Aunt Meg.\n Paige points across the club to AUNT MEG, a striking redhead,\n early 40's, who's talking to a couple of YOUNG MEN.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n She's the best. Forty-two years old\n but she still parties like she", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is" ], [ "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT", "I was upset so I went for a\n drive--you know, to think--and I\n must have hit a patch of sand, and\n before I knew it I was into the\n pole.\n Fred stops and looks her in the eye.\n\n FRED\n I'm sorry, Grace.\n\n GRACE\n For what?\n\n FRED\n For putting you through all this.\n Grace looks awash in guilt.\n\n GRACE\n It's not your fault, Fred.\n\n F", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", "Cop #2 throws the car into drive and they pull a U-ey and\n\n GIVE CHASE.\n\n INT. MINI-VAN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Fred looks regretful.\n\n FRED\n I'm sorry, man, I shouldn't have\n blamed you for this. I'm the one\n who dragged you into this thing.\n\n RICK\n No, you didn't. I went willingly.\n\n FRED\n I've been bad, Rick. I", "insane, she's\n just making really poor decisions\n right now.\n (hands him his car keys)\n Here, give Rick the keys to my mini-\n van. I'm gonna go back to the hotel\n with Missy.\n Coakley looks back at Missy and softens.\n\n COAKLEY\n It's your funeral, princess.\n BACK ON RICK AND LEIGH dancing up a storm. Rick is OUT OF\n BREATH and SWEATING LIKE A PIG. His shirt is", "-\n van pulls up and Fred gets out. (Fred has a BLACK EYE.) He\n helps Grace out of the van, then pays the DRIVER. (Grace has\n TWO BLACK EYES and her nose is HEAVILY BANDAGED.) When the\n taxi drives off, Fred helps Grace toward the house.\n\n FRED\n .And what were you doing driving\n around at one o'clock in the\n morning?\n\n GRACE\n\n (NERVOUS)\n Well...", "AME\n\n The WINDSHIELD IS GONE and the wind blows back Rick and\n Fred's hair as if they were on a motorcycle. Fred tries his\n car phone as he drives.\n\n FRED\n Oh come on! How can a hospital not\n have a live operator?!\n\n RICK\n It's four in the morning, Fred.\n Fred hangs up and pounds his steering wheel.\n\n FRED\n What was I thinking?! I had a great\n wife--a beautiful wife--and", "his Dodge Caravan and Paige sits in\n the passenger seat. She is on the busty side.\n\n RICK\n How were the kids tonight?\n\n PAIGE\n Perfect. That Gunnar is so cute--\n all he wants to do is wrestle with\n me.\n Rick smiles at this.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Mr. Mills, would it be okay to turn\n down the air--I'm a little chilly.\n Look--I got goose bumps", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 115\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT\n\n A police cruiser is parked on the highway divider.\n\n INT. POLICE CRUISER - SAME\n\n Two YOUNG COPS are relaxing with their coffees when the\n\n SMASHED-UP MINI-VAN FLIES BY.\n\n COP #1\n Did you see that? He didn't have a\n windshield.\n ", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is", "RED\n Yes, it is--of course it's my\n fault. This isn't you--driving\n around all night, thinking--you're\n not a thinker.\n When she looks up at him, he forces a smile. But she doesn't\n smile back.\n\n GRACE\n Look, Fred, we have to talk\n about... about what happened this\n week.\n Fred takes a DEEP BREATH and looks around, trying to avoid\n the moment.\n\n \n\n \n\n", "ry WALKS OUT THE DOOR. Grace sits there alone for a\n moment. We PUSH IN ON HER and we hear Gerry's CAR START\n OUTSIDE, and when Grace STARTS TO CRY, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. COAKLEY'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n This is a Tudor home in an upscale Brookline neighborhood.\n We can hear 'Rage Against The Machine' BLASTING from the\n street. There's thirty or so cars out front and", "RICK\n Um...do you want me to give you a\n ride home?\n\n LEIGH\n No. It's only one-thirty--I'm going\n back down to the party.\n Rick raises two fingers.\n\n RICK\n Peace it.\n\n LEIGH\n R-O-C-K in the U-S-A.\n As they smile at each other one last time, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. FRED'S MINIVAN - NIGHT\n", "\n\n PHONE.\n\n MAGGIE\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n Oh my god... oh my god, you poor\n thing.\n Maggie looks up, shocked to see Rick.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n Hold on, Rick just walked in.\n\n (TO RICK)\n Grace was in a car accident!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 119.\n\n ", "ED TISSUE dangling out\n of his nose. The nervous passenger is RICK MILLS, 38.\n\n RICK\n Pull over, man!\n\n FRED\n No way, I can out-run 'em!\n\n RICK\n No you can't--not in this thing!\n Another POLICE CRUISER FISHTAILS OUT OF A SIDE STREET and\n\n JOINS THE CHASE.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Oh God", ", sure, I'm sorry.\n Flustered, he moves to the temperature control which in LARGE\n ILLUMINATED DIGITAL TYPE reads: 69!!! He quickly PUNCHES THE\n A/C OFF, then trains his eyes straight ahead and grips the\n steering wheel tight at ten-and-two.\n\n PAIGE\n Thank you.\n\n RICK\n 'Welcome.\n\n EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS - NIGHT\n\n The mini-van pulls", "PLY TO THE RIGHT and\n Gary and Hog-head TUMBLE OUT OF THE CART.\n With panic etched across their sweaty faces, Gary and Hog-\n head quickly jump to their feet and run after the cart. Rick\n slows just enough for them to catch up and jump back on, then\n he speeds down a maintenance path and DISAPPEARS INTO THE\n\n WOODS.\n\n EXT. SIDEWALK CAFE - DAY\n\n Ed and Kimmy Long are sitting at an outside table", " I don't care--I'm not stopping 'til\n we get there!\n\n RICK\n Are you crazy?!\n\n FRED\n Yeah, I'm crazy! I'm crazy about my\n wife!\n\n EXT. CAPE COD HOSPITAL - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Fred come SKIDDING UP to the EMERGENCY ROOM ENTRANCE\n in the graffitied mini-van.\n\n INT. POLICE CRUISER - CONTINUOUS", "and I\n shouldn't have run from you guys,\n but my wife's been in an accident\n and she's in this emergency room\n and I gotta see how she is\n because...\n\n (GROWS EMOTIONAL)\n\n .THAT WOMAN'S MY WHOLE LIFE!\n The cops look moved and unsure what to do.\n\n DOCTOR\n Are you the husband of...\n (glances down at chart)\n .Grace Searing?\n Fred strains to", ", Gunnar.\n\n GUNNAR\n Mommy! Daddy!\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFLATED)\n Little buddy.. .what are you doing\n up?\n Gunnar runs into his mother's arms and Maggie shrugs\n apologetically to Rick.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n This is just a minor obstacle.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S MINI-VAN - NIGHT\n\n Rick is at the wheel of" ], [ "would he have to blow\n you?\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Seven minutes.\n\n GARY\n Oof. I mean, getting blown by a\n dude is bad, but making out with a\n guy, it's so.. .intimate.\n\n RICK\n You think it's more intimate than\n getting blown by a guy?\n\n GARY\n Way more.\n\n BAKER\n All right, the hell with this shit,\n I'm outta here.\n ", "he\n tucked the kids in, and I started\n wondering who he would be thinking\n about during sex. Would it be the\n girl he checked out on the way into\n the party? Or would it be Missy\n Frankenfield--because I noticed him\n gawking at her? Or how about one of\n the waitresses, or maybe somebody\n he saw at work that day? Then when\n he came into the room, I did\n something I'd never done before: I\n pretended to be asleep.\n\n GR", "Why would you do that?\n Maggie thinks about this.\n\n MAGGIE\n I don't know.\n\n (BEAT)\n I guess I felt like he wasn't\n noticing me anymore. j guess I\n wanted to feel.. .desired again. And\n the truth is, in my heart, I never\n thought he'd go through with it.\n He brushes her hair from her face and they look into each\n other's eyes. He leans in and she does, too, and right when", "the bed (with his\n pants still at his ankles), Fred WADDLING LIKE A PENGUIN.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Moral-guy's a tit-man, huh?\n\n FRED\n\n (SHRUGGING)\n Well, I grew up in the midwest.\n She pushes him down on the bed and Fred quickly kicks off his\n pants and shoes (but keeps his boxers on.) Meg TACKLES him\n and the two of them start to roll around", " FRED\n Did you see her face? Her face is\n tremendous.\n\n RICK\n (chanting, scared)\n Please don't have a nice ass,\n please don't have a nice ass...\n But as she turns to pour a cup of coffee, we see that HER ASS\n IS SPECTACULAR. Rick turns away, annoyed.\n\n RICK (CONT'D\n Oh, come on! That's ri iculous.\n\n FRED\n I know. She's from", "That's when Rick realizes that his head is RESTING ON THE\n GUY'S COCK. He tries to roll off him, but Metrosexual #1\n\n HOLDS HIM TIGHT.\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL #1\n Try not to move, sir.\n\n RICK\n I'm okay, just help me up.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 78.\n\n NAKED METROSEXUAL #", " Nice.\n Fred looks around at all the pretty MOMS and NANNIES with\n their CHILDREN.\n\n FRED\n Can you believe the talent here\n today?\n\n RICK\n\n (PAINED)\n Yeah. I know.\n They NOTICE something O.S..\n THEIR POV - we see a SCANDINAVIAN AU PAIR bent over EXPOSING\n HER THONG UNDERWEAR as she picks up a CHILD from a wagon.\n\n F", "have me.\n Leigh smiles. And it's the kind of smile you only get two or\n three times in your life, if you're lucky, and probably never\n from a woman this beautiful.\n She reaches down and UNBUCKLES HIS PANTS, then she PULLS OFF\n HIS SHIRT. They stand face-to-face now, the middle-aged guy\n and the young beauty, and it's happening exactly the way Rick\n had hoped it would, the dream.\n She presses her body against his and ST", "parked on the street in front of his home.\n We HEAR Styx's The Best of Times coming from inside the car\n and we MOVE IN CLOSER until we're...\n LOOKING THROUGH THE PASSENGER WINDOW at Fred. He's sitting\n in the driver's seat; his EYES ARE CLOSED and his head is\n slung back as he JERKS-OFF (just below frame) to the MUSIC.\n A POLICE CRUISER passes in the b.g", "who does it behind\n her back, and a guy like you who\n has his wife's permission.\n\n RICK\n Well it's not really cheating if I\n have permission.\n\n COAKLEY\n Yeah, whatever. The point is, if\n you asked a hundred people who the\n better CJuy is, ninety-nine of 'em\n would pick you, because you're\n being honest--there's no deceit\n involved.\n Rick is growing uncomfortable.\n\n CO", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 63.\n Rick and Fred force a LAUGH and the girls smile. Another\n LONG, UNCOMFORTABLE BEAT. Rick clears his throat.\n\n RICK CONT'D)\n So...are you ladies from Ireland?\n\n LATINO WOMAN #2\n No.\n\n RICK.\n I'm very surprised to hear that\n news, because when I look at you my\n penis doubles in size.\n", "UNDER THE COVERS.\n An O.S. Fred seems to be working his way down her stomach.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Oh yes! Rick... please...I want you\n to make love to me.\n Just then Rick BURSTS INTO THE ROOM, out of breath. Fred and\n Meg come up from under the covers. (Fred is at waist-level on\n her.)\n\n RICK\n Fred, I need to talk to you!\n Meg GLARES down at Fred, confused.\n", "1\n\n (TO METROSEXUAL #2)\n All right, give him a hand.\n Metrosexual #2 straddles Rick's chest and leans down to pull\n him up. As Rick starts to rise, HIS FACE COMES PERILOUSLY\n CLOSE TO THE SECOND MAN'S O.S. DANGLING COCK and Rick has to\n\n TURN HIS HEAD TO AVOID CONTACT.\n They finally get Rick to his feet. As the naked men help", "'ve been real\n bad.\n\n RICK\n We've both been bad.\n\n FRED\n I've been worse. I kissed your\n babysitter's aunt.\n\n RICK\n That's not so bad.\n\n FRED\n On the vagina.\n\n RICK\n Ooh.\n They hear a SIREN and Rick looks back to see the cops on\n their tail.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Oh shit.\n\n", "him\n across the room, we\n ANGLE ON - two TANNED, HAIRLESS METROSEXUAL ASSES flanking\n Rick's HIRSUTE BUTT.\n\n RICK\n Okay, thanks, guys. I can take it\n from here.\n The metrosexuals release Rick and he gets about two steps\n before his LEGS GIVE OUT and he TUMBLES DOWN A SMALL FLIGHT\n\n OF STEPS.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n ", ".\n Baker shoots him a look.\n\n BAKER\n You cheap,bastard. We're talking\n about an investment that gets your\n rocks off and protects your wife's\n feelings. I'd pay five grand.\n\n RICK\n Wow.\n\n GARY\n Well, excuse me, Mr. Wall Street,\n but us public school teachers\n aren't getting any of that bail-out\n money you're over-tipping everyone\n with.\n Just then, the front", "DOWN TO HIS ANKLES, leaving\n him with only his boxers on. Meg KISSES HIS CHEST and\n STOMACH, then leans back and TAKES OFF HER TANK-TOP,\n revealing EXTRA-LARGE BAZOOKAS stuffed into a slinky bra.\n\n AUNT MEG\n I'm attracted to men with\n integrity.\n\n FRED\n Thanks--wow, you got great jugs.\n Meg takes Fred's hand and leads him toward", ",\n man?\n\n FLATS\n Great. What's up with you? How's\n that hall pass thing going?\n Rick makes a Scooby Doo sound, alarmed.\n\n RICK\n Who told you about that--was it Hog-\n head?\n\n FLATS\n No. Some old lady was yakking about\n it down at the post office.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n FLATS (CONT'D)\n\n (BIG", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 109.\n\n LEIGH\n Really? Are you feeling okay?\n You're not mad because I went\n outside with my friend, are you?\n\n RICK\n No, no, no. Look, I shouldn't be\n doing this. I have.. .you know,\n commitments.\n Leigh nods at this, then unties a shoulder strap and her\n DRESS FALLS TO THE FLOOR. Suddenly she'" ], [ "PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Look, I promise no one's gonna find\n out. If you want, you can join me\n down at the lake--we'll listen to\n some tunes and have a couple beers.\n Rick stares at her, pictures it in his head. She looks\n hopeful, open.\n\n RICK\n I'm sorry, Paige, I can't do that.\n\n PAIGE\n Why not?\n\n RICK\n Well... it would be..", "?\n\n AUNT MEG\n I know she tried to hook-up with\n you--twice in fact--and that you\n set her straight both times.\n Fred hadn't heard this from Rick and is a little confused.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 108.\n\n FRED\n Uh...hook-up?\n\n AUNT MEG\n\n (SMILES)\n Rick, enough with the chivalry.\n Paige wanted to", " RICK\n Well ...um...\n As Rick thinks about this, Paige moves in tighter.\n\n PAIGE\n By the way, I kind of owe you an\n apology.\n (lowers her voice,\n\n BASH\n Last week ful) when you drove me home, I\n shouldn't have snapped at you like\n that.\n\n RICK\n Oh, don't worry about it. It was a\n big misunderstanding.\n\n PAIGE\n No, it", "wasn't.\n She takes a moment, looks around.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 86.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n If you thought I was coming on to\n you that night, it's because...I\n was.\n Rick flinches at this. Just then the Bartender returns with\n the champagne. Rick fumbles through his pocket and finally\n pays. Then he's left alone with Paige and her coed-in-love-\n", ".)\n Hi, Mr. Mills.\n Rick turns to see that he's crammed in beside his babysitter\n Paige who's looking a LITTLE TIPSY.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 84.\n\n RICK\n Oh, hey, Paige. What are you doing\n here?\n She pulls out her license and holds it up.\n\n PAIGE\n I turned twenty-one yesterday.\n\n (DRUNKEN SMI", "\n \n\n 98.\n\n FRED\n Hi. May I help you?\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Paige's Aunt Meg. She's wearing a\n skirt and low-cut tank top and has cougar written all over\n her.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, my name's Meg. I'm your\n babysitter Paige's aunt, and I just\n wanted to come over here and tell\n you this: They don't make men like\n you", "his Dodge Caravan and Paige sits in\n the passenger seat. She is on the busty side.\n\n RICK\n How were the kids tonight?\n\n PAIGE\n Perfect. That Gunnar is so cute--\n all he wants to do is wrestle with\n me.\n Rick smiles at this.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n Mr. Mills, would it be okay to turn\n down the air--I'm a little chilly.\n Look--I got goose bumps", "\n \n\n 85\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n In fact, I thought it was very\n classy of you to be staying at the\n Holiday Inn Express instead of\n bringing girls back to your home\n with all the kids' pictures and\n schoolwork taped up everywhere.\n Rick forces a smile.\n\n RICK\n Thank you.\n A male BARTENDER, 25, finally appears in front of Rick.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Yeah", "lets this all sink in, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Paige's Aunt Meg is sitting on the couch. Her legs are\n crossed revealing a lot of skin. Fred hands her a glass of\n wine and sits beside her.\n\n FRED\n Cheers.\n They CLINK glasses.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, I hope you don't mind me\n tracking you down--Paige told me\n where", ".inappropriate.\n Rick's voice has taken on a firmer, more adult tone. Paige\n seems amused by it.\n\n PAIGE\n What, is that your grown-up voice?\n\n (SMILES)\n That would be inappropriate, Paige.\n\n COME ON--\n\n RICK\n No, Paige.\n (with an edge)\n What are you thinking? I'm a\n married man and I have a family.\n You think they'd", "like it if they\n knew I was hanging out at the lake,\n all alone, drinking beer with a\n college girl?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 11.\n She seems taken aback.\n\n PAIGE\n\n (PUT-OFF)\n I never said alone. My sorority's\n having a party down there tonight.\n Rick CLEARS HIS THROAT, tries to hide his embarrassment.\n\n RICK\n All right,", " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", "LE)\n I'm legal now.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Well, happy birthday. You out\n celebrating?\n\n PAIGE\n Yeah, I'm here with my Aunt Meg.\n Paige points across the club to AUNT MEG, a striking redhead,\n early 40's, who's talking to a couple of YOUNG MEN.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n She's the best. Forty-two years old\n but she still parties like she", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "to the Tropic finals because\n Miss North Dakota's gonna lose and\n she's gonna need a hug. And quite\n often you can parlay a hug into a\n hand-job. Rick, you're up--get us\n two bottles of Moet and six\n glasses.\n Rick shoots Fred a look, then weaves his way through a scrum\n of PEOPLE up to the bar. He tries to flag down a bartender\n but can't get anyone's attention.\n\n PAIGE (O.S", ".. .How old are you?\n\n PAIGE\n Twenty. But I'm turning twenty-one\n next week.\n\n RICK\n Oh. Happy birthday. That's a\n biggie.\n\n PAIGE\n Yeah. My aunt usually buys beer for\n me, but she's out of town.\n\n (SMILES HOPEFULLY)\n So. . .could ya?\n\n RICK\n Uh, I don't know, Paige...I could\n", "'s my\n age.\n\n RICK\n Nice.\n Rick continues to try to get the bartender's attention.\n\n PAIGE\n So, Rick, how's the hall pass\n going?\n Paige smirks at Rick who shrinks a little.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n You don't mind if I call you Rick,\n do you? I am officially an adult\n now.\n\n RICK\n No, of course not--what did you\n", "the kids to the park, then to the\n party. You can dust stay in bed,,\n get your beauty sleep, and bask in\n the sweet, sweet pounding I'm about\n to give you.\n\n MAGGIE\n I love it when you sweet-talk me.\n Maggie smiles but as Rick opens the front door they FREEZE IN\n\n THEIR TRACKS.\n THEIR POV - the babysitter (PAIGE, 20, cute) is standing\n there with their 4-year-old", "Why would you do that?\n Maggie thinks about this.\n\n MAGGIE\n I don't know.\n\n (BEAT)\n I guess I felt like he wasn't\n noticing me anymore. j guess I\n wanted to feel.. .desired again. And\n the truth is, in my heart, I never\n thought he'd go through with it.\n He brushes her hair from her face and they look into each\n other's eyes. He leans in and she does, too, and right when", "in and gives\n Leigh a kiss on the cheek. He has a pair of headphones\n hanging around his neck.\n\n WANNABE\n Wassup, girl?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 87.\n Wannabe NOTICES Rick and loses his smile.\n\n WANNABE (CONT'D)\n Oh. Hey. What are you doing here--\n you auditing the place?\n\n RICK\n Actually, I work for Sir" ], [ "we SUPER:\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 65.\n\n DAY 4\n\n INT. RICK AND FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - AFTERNOON\n\n A SNORING Rick is FAST ASLEEP, sprawled out on his back on\n the bed WEARING ONLY HIS BOXERS despite the clock next to him\n reading 3:37 in the afternoon. He's surrounded by several\n left-over ROOM SERVICE TRAY", "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT", " and she got shaken up a bit, but\n all in all she's a very lucky\n woman.\n\n FRED\n You got that wrong, doc. I'm the\n lucky one.\n Fred is visibly relieved as the doctor smiles and walks off.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Bless you, doctor!\n Fred turns to Rick and the two men hug and then Rick grabs\n Fred by the shoulders and looks him in the eye.\n\n \n\n", "of swings.\n A moment later the guys are gone and a humbled Rick and Fred\n sit there feeling alone.\n\n FRED\n\n (BEING BRAVE)\n This is actually good--you know,\n that they're leaving. You don't\n need five hunters to bag two birds.\n\n RICK\n No, you do not. And I love those\n guys but, let's be honest, they're\n not exactly chick-magnets.\n\n FRED\n You", "of one\n hundred and forty large, it better\n be paradise.\n Ed holds out his fist and Rick obediently POUNDS IT. Just\n then Grace NOTICES that Fred has disappeared.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 28.\n\n GRACE\n Hey, where did Fred go?\n Rick turns and sees that he's missing.\n\n INT. ANOTHER PART OF THE UPSTAIRS - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Rick walks down a hall", "Baker gets up from his stool.\n\n RICK\n\n (TAKEN ABACK)\n What? Why?\n\n BAKER\n I wanted to watch you guys pick up\n chicks, not talk about dicks.\n\n FRED\n Hey, greased lightning, let off the\n gas--sometimes these things take\n time.\n\n GARY\n Baker's right. This is day three\n and you haven't even talked to a\n girl.\n\n RICK\n\n", ".\n\n BAKER\n Okay... so where to now?\n Rick can't think in this state.\n\n RICK\n Fred...?\n\n FRED\n Hm?\n\n RICK\n Answer Baker.\n\n FRED\n What's the question?\n\n RICK\n What are we doing for the rest of\n the night?\n\n FRED\n\n (DISINTERESTED)\n I don't know. Getting laid, right?\n\n ", " FRED (CONT'D)\n That's right--this thing is bigger\n than us! Our wives didn't give us\n this hall pass, the good Lord did!\n And what do we have to show for it?\n Nothing.\n\n RICK\n Come off it, Fred. Obviously\n hooking up isn't something we\n really want--if it was, we could've\n done it by now.\n\n FRED\n Could we have?\n Rick is taken aback by this.\n\n ", "AME\n\n The WINDSHIELD IS GONE and the wind blows back Rick and\n Fred's hair as if they were on a motorcycle. Fred tries his\n car phone as he drives.\n\n FRED\n Oh come on! How can a hospital not\n have a live operator?!\n\n RICK\n It's four in the morning, Fred.\n Fred hangs up and pounds his steering wheel.\n\n FRED\n What was I thinking?! I had a great\n wife--a beautiful wife--and", "-tackles Rick,\n BLASTING him backwards onto the sidewalk.\n Fred and Rick manage to roll away and then CRAWL THROUGH THE\n\n FRONT ENTRANCE.\n\n INT. HOSPITAL - EMERGENCY ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Our guys barely get in the door before being PUMMELED TO THE\n FLOOR by the four cops. The TWO PEOPLE seated in the waiting\n room STAND UP IN SHOCK and then a swarm of DOCTORS and\n ", "ICK\n Well, kind of. You made me drive\n around town with you for two hours,\n remember?\n\n FRED\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n I thought you'd want to watch a\n movie in a mini-van. You never got\n to watch a movie in a mini-van\n before, did you?\n Rick shrugs.\n\n RICK\n Why'd you have to hook your boat up\n to it?\n\n FRED\n Because it's the Touring Edition", "'ve changed.\n Fred stares at him, incredulous.\n\n FRED\n No, man, you've changed. All you\n care about is yourself--what about\n all the guys out there who are\n counting on us to make this thing\n work?\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?\n\n FRED\n Don't you get it?\n\n (DRAMATIC BEAT)\n We're the chosen ones!\n Fred stands up and points at Rick.\n\n ", "and finds Fred in a guest room\n watching a baseball game on TV.\n\n RICK\n What are you doing?\n\n FRED\n I can't take these look-at-how-much-\n I-own parties. It's obnoxious.\n Rick nods and sits down beside him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n When I bought my completely-loaded\n Honda Odyssey, I didn't go around\n bragging about it, did I?\n\n R", "those\n things.\n As Rick drops his club and walks toward the brownies, we\n\n SUPER:\n\n 75 MINUTES LATER\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY\n\n A dazed and confused Rick and Fred are RECLINING in their\n cart in the middle of the fairway. For a while neither of\n them speak. Then:\n\n FRED\n What kind of soap do you use?\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n ", ". When they stop, we see\n that somebody has spray-painted 'HORNY OLD MAN' on the side\n of the mini-van.\n Fred jumps out and SPRINTS toward the entrance. SEVERAL COPS\n spring from their cars and give chase. Before Fred can reach\n the front doors, he gets KNOCKED VIOLENTLY to the ground.\n Rick climbs out of the passenger seat with HIS HANDS RAISED.\n\n RICK\n Hear me out, gentlemen, I can\n", "?\n\n FRED\n You know when you're taking a\n girl's panties off for the first\n time, and you're wondering if she's\n going to stop you, but then she\n gives you that little pelvic arch-\n thrust that tells you that the\n struggle's over, everything's going\n to be okay?\n Rick SIGHS.\n\n RICK\n That's a happy moment.\n\n FRED\n Yep. Another thing gone forever.\n Rick looks", "\n FRED\n And get caught by Grace? Can't risk\n it. Besides, cars turn me on--it's\n where I lost my virginity. And\n they're comfy--I just put the seat\n back and turn on the tunes.\n The guys sit on a bench.\n\n RICK\n That's one of the things they don't\n tell you when you're young--that\n you'll still be jerking-off after\n you get married. I thought it was\n ", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", "UDY - CONTINUOUS\n\n Rick and Fred walk back into Ed's study.\n\n RICK\n They must've gone downstairs.\n Fred motions to Ed's humidor room.\n\n FRED\n\n (BRITISH ACCENT)\n Thanks for coming to the war room,\n old chap. By the way, did I mention\n that my wife's vagina never goes\n above fifty-four degrees, nor below\n fifty-three.\n\n INT. SAFE ROOM", "batten down the\n hatches.\n\n FRED\n That's right. Tonight we build up\n strength, tomorrow we make\n landfall.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n Law & Order MUSIC CUE as we SUPER:\n\n DAY 2\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - MORNING\n\n Rick, Fred, Hog-head, and Gary are stretching on the first\n tee of a local FOUR-STAR GOLF RESORT while taking" ], [ "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", ".\n At the top of the stairs Fred puts his arms around her.\n\n FRED\n Why would I need a hall pass? I've\n got you.\n\n GRACE\n Not tonight you don't. I'm too\n bloated and I have cramps.\n\n FRED\n I don't mind.\n\n GRACE\n Fred, do I have to spell it out for\n you? I'm having my period.\n\n FRED\n\n (MATTER-OF-", ". It's\n about being man enough to pick up a\n woman even though you may not be\n what--in the traditional sense--is\n considered...\n (makes quotes with\n\n FINGERS)\n .good-looking, or...\n (finger quotes again)\n .appealing.\n Rick seems stung by this news.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Look, if we can't show that\n something positive can come from\n having a hall pass, then the whole\n concept is", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", "do? She made me call\n the Longs and apologize.\n Rick flinches.\n\n RICK\n Oof .\n\n FRED\n How 'bout you--did Maggie freak out\n when you got home?\n\n RICK\n Uh... sort of.\n Rick peeks out the kitchen door to make sure the Goldberg's\n aren't listening. Then:\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n She gave me a hall pass.\n\n FRED\n A what", "going to make it--\n having a hall pass partner?\n\n FRED\n And it's not just me--Baker, Gary,\n and Hog-head are coming out with us\n tonight!\n\n RICK\n No way?! They got hall passes,\n too?!\n\n FRED\n No, no, no--they just want to\n watch.\n Rick grows concerned.\n\n RICK\n You think that's a good idea,\n letting them in on it? What if they\n ", "\n\n Fred and Missy are walking down the hallway toward his room.\n\n MISSY FRANKENFIELD\n I've got to be honest, Fred... I'm\n not really sure what we're doing\n here.\n\n FRED\n What do you mean? We're hangin',\n we're connecting--that's what\n friends do. Especially if they want\n to take it to the next level where\n they can call each other 'good\n friends.'\n\n \n\n \n\n", " All right, don't give up.\n\n FRED\n I'm not giving up, I'm facing facts-\n -this is our last day and we got\n nothing cooking. Maybe you were\n right. Maybe we should just tell\n the girls to come home.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79.\n\n RICK\n No. I want the hall pass.\n Fred looks at Rick, surprised.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n At", "now I\n may lose her.. .because of you.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?! You\n said our wives were living their\n dreams, with their fancy gas ovens,\n and that our dream was the hall\n pass! How can you blame this on\n me?!\n\n FRED\n I'd never even heard of a hall pass\n until you flaunted yours in my\n face! 'Hey, look at me, I've got a\n hall pass--everyone should have a\n hall pass", ",\n man?\n\n FLATS\n Great. What's up with you? How's\n that hall pass thing going?\n Rick makes a Scooby Doo sound, alarmed.\n\n RICK\n Who told you about that--was it Hog-\n head?\n\n FLATS\n No. Some old lady was yakking about\n it down at the post office.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n FLATS (CONT'D)\n\n (BIG", " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", " FRED (CONT'D)\n That's right--this thing is bigger\n than us! Our wives didn't give us\n this hall pass, the good Lord did!\n And what do we have to show for it?\n Nothing.\n\n RICK\n Come off it, Fred. Obviously\n hooking up isn't something we\n really want--if it was, we could've\n done it by now.\n\n FRED\n Could we have?\n Rick is taken aback by this.\n\n ", "\n 57.\n\n FRED\n Hey, I haven't seen you guys talk\n to any girls.\n\n BAKER\n We don't have hall passes!\n\n (SHAKES HEAD)\n Come on, guys, let's go.\n The three friends start to leave but Hog-head stops and\n turns.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Hey, guys, it's all right if you\n strike-out.. .but for godsakes, at\n least take a couple", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", " FRED\n I don't get it--why aren't you more\n excited?\n\n RICK\n Well...I don't know how I feel.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 37.\n\n FRED\n About...?\n\n RICK\n The hall pass. Something about it\n isn't right.\n\n FRED\n You mean, like, you think Maggie\n might have a brain tumor or\n something?\n\n ", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--", "what he's spawned.\n\n RICK\n Really? So...how's it going?\n\n BOSHANE\n Solid. Very solid.\n\n LEARY\n We're building mucho momentumo.\n Baker makes a JERK-OFF MOTION.\n\n LEARY (CONT'D)\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Hey, Baker, a hall pass ain't just\n about sex, you know.\n\n BOSHANE\n That'", "of one\n hundred and forty large, it better\n be paradise.\n Ed holds out his fist and Rick obediently POUNDS IT. Just\n then Grace NOTICES that Fred has disappeared.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 28.\n\n GRACE\n Hey, where did Fred go?\n Rick turns and sees that he's missing.\n\n INT. ANOTHER PART OF THE UPSTAIRS - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Rick walks down a hall" ], [ "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", " A what?\n\n MAGGIE\n One week off from marriage.\n\n RICK\n You mean, like a trial separation?\n You are seriously overreacting.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a separation, it's a hall\n pass. You can do whatever you want.\n Get it out of your system.\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n Wait a minute--are you for real?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", "CONT'D)\n Hey, about this hall pass\n business.. .1 don't want it and I\n don't need it. All I need is--\n\n MAGGIE\n I told you, this isn't negotiable.\n She turns and faces him.\n\n RICK\n You're really serious about this?\n\n MAGGIE\n Rick, this isn't something that\n I...look, I really think you need\n this. I think we need this.\n Rick doesn'", "\n DR. LUCY (CONT'D\n I'm just saying.. .maybe a little\n freedom would be good for them. And\n for you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Have you ever considered giving\n them a hall pass?\n\n GRACE\n A what?\n\n DR. LUCY\n A hall pass. A week off from\n marriage.\n Grace and Maggie stop chewing.\n\n MAGGIE\n Wait a minute. . .Are you saying let\n them go out and", ",\n man?\n\n FLATS\n Great. What's up with you? How's\n that hall pass thing going?\n Rick makes a Scooby Doo sound, alarmed.\n\n RICK\n Who told you about that--was it Hog-\n head?\n\n FLATS\n No. Some old lady was yakking about\n it down at the post office.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n FLATS (CONT'D)\n\n (BIG", " All right, don't give up.\n\n FRED\n I'm not giving up, I'm facing facts-\n -this is our last day and we got\n nothing cooking. Maybe you were\n right. Maybe we should just tell\n the girls to come home.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79.\n\n RICK\n No. I want the hall pass.\n Fred looks at Rick, surprised.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n At", "\n RICK\n You weren't supposed to tell anyone\n about the hall pass!\n\n LEARY\n They didn't say anything. Our wives\n heard about it at the pool.\n\n RICK\n No! At the pool?!\n Rick rubs his face, distressed.\n\n BOSHANE\n Yep. And then about three days ago--\n after some hard-core negotiating--\n we managed to push the bill\n through.\n The guys LAUGH. Rick can hardly believe", "\n\n\n \n HALL PASS\n\n\n\n Written by\n\n Peter Farrelly, Bobby Farrelly, Kevin Barnett & Pete Jones\n\n\n\n\n\n\n September 18, 2009\n \n\n \n\n FADE IN:\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT\n\n Very late. All is quiet. Then a battered MINI-VAN blows by\n a row of hedges that have been pruned to read: '", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "do? She made me call\n the Longs and apologize.\n Rick flinches.\n\n RICK\n Oof .\n\n FRED\n How 'bout you--did Maggie freak out\n when you got home?\n\n RICK\n Uh... sort of.\n Rick peeks out the kitchen door to make sure the Goldberg's\n aren't listening. Then:\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n She gave me a hall pass.\n\n FRED\n A what", "what he's spawned.\n\n RICK\n Really? So...how's it going?\n\n BOSHANE\n Solid. Very solid.\n\n LEARY\n We're building mucho momentumo.\n Baker makes a JERK-OFF MOTION.\n\n LEARY (CONT'D)\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Hey, Baker, a hall pass ain't just\n about sex, you know.\n\n BOSHANE\n That'", "both early 40's\n and paunchy.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 104.\n\n BAKER\n When Leary and Boshane heard about\n your guy's hall pass, they\n convinced their wives to give them\n one, too.\n A smiling Leary tries to HIGH-FIVE Rick, but he's having none\n of it. He turns to Baker, livid.\n", "going to make it--\n having a hall pass partner?\n\n FRED\n And it's not just me--Baker, Gary,\n and Hog-head are coming out with us\n tonight!\n\n RICK\n No way?! They got hall passes,\n too?!\n\n FRED\n No, no, no--they just want to\n watch.\n Rick grows concerned.\n\n RICK\n You think that's a good idea,\n letting them in on it? What if they\n ", " just say?\n\n PAIGE\n I was asking about your hall pass.\n (off Rick's look)\n I baby-sit for the Putneys and I\n heard Gary talking about it the\n other night at their barbecue.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n RICK\n He was talking about it at a\n barbecue?!\n\n PAIGE\n Oh, he wasn't saying it in a bad\n way.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "No. Of course I'm happy, honey--our\n sex life is great--not that I\n wouldn't mind a little more, but--\n look, one thing has nothing to do\n with the other. I think about sex a\n lot--all guys do--that's just the\n way it is.\n Maggie sits down beside him, clearly at the end of her rope.\n No one speaks for a few moments. Then:\n\n MAGGIE\n I'm giving you a hall pass.\n\n RICK\n" ], [ "Why would you do that?\n Maggie thinks about this.\n\n MAGGIE\n I don't know.\n\n (BEAT)\n I guess I felt like he wasn't\n noticing me anymore. j guess I\n wanted to feel.. .desired again. And\n the truth is, in my heart, I never\n thought he'd go through with it.\n He brushes her hair from her face and they look into each\n other's eyes. He leans in and she does, too, and right when", "sentiment. She makes strong eye-\n contact with Rick for a moment, but catches herself and looks\n away.\n\n MAGGIE\n You know, my husband's name is\n Rick.\n Rick smiles at this.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 74.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Well that makes me the perfect guy\n to have an affair with--you'd never\n have to worry about screaming out\n the wrong name during sex.\n Maggie smiles", "\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 33.\n\n RICK\n Okay, you want the truth? You\n really want me to pull back the\n curtain here? From the moment I\n leave the house in the morning 'til\n the moment I get home, I pretty\n much notice every woman in my path.\n Maggie turns to face him.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n But it's not how you think it is,\n Mags. It's like... it's like", "ACE\n You're kidding me? You've never\n done that? I do that all the time!\n Maggie almost smiles.\n\n MAGGIE\n Look, I understand that people have\n fantasies and that you're not\n always thinking about the person\n you're with.\n\n GRACE\n That's for sure.\n\n MAGGIE\n But it's just...I don't know... it's\n been too long since I felt that he\n was thinking about", ".)\n Hey.\n Maggie turns to see Rick Coleman standing out on her front\n porch.\n\n MAGGIE\n Oh. Hey.\n She goes to the screen door.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Thought you might want to help me\n celebrate the end of the season.\n He holds up a grocery bag.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I got some good late-night eats.\n Maggie hesitates a moment. Then she opens the door and lets\n him in.", "of Miami.\n\n MAGGIE\n Then you should go out with her.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Nice try.\n\n (BEAT)\n So how about yourself--how long you\n been married?\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh...fourteen years. We were\n college sweethearts.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Nice. And where is he this week?\n\n MAGGIE\n He's up in Boston.\n\n RICK CO", ". I feel terrible--\n the poor kid's spending all his\n hard-earned money on me--that's\n sad. Cute, but sad.\n\n MAGGIE\n Grace, you should be flattered.\n You're thirty-eight-years-old and\n college kids are still swooning\n over you.\n\n GRACE\n Well I just feel bad if I gave him\n the wrong impression.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 81.", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", " RICK\n Well, virginity is different for\n guys.\n\n MAGGIE\n The point is, obviously I like sex,\n too--it means something to me--but\n I don't walk around gawking at\n every guy I see.\n\n RICK\n All right, so I occasionally notice\n other women. I'm sorry.\n\n MAGGIE\n Occasionally?\n Rick rakes his hands through his hair and decides to come\n clean.\n\n \n", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "What, do they think they're\n invisible over there?\n\n MAGGIE\n I thought you said Fred wasn't a\n gawker.\n\n GRACE\n He was standing right next to you.\n I can't let him know that I know--\n that would take all the fun out of\n it.\n\n (CHUCKLES)\n You should see him. He's got some\n stupid move where he looks back\n before the girl passes to make it\n seem like he couldn'", "., we HOLD ON MAGGIE until she OPENS HER EYES. She\n listens to her husband brush his teeth with perhaps a tinge\n of GUILT, and when he shuts off the faucet, she CLOSES HER\n EYES AGAIN, and we...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. PARK - MORNING\n\n Rick pushes Gunnar and Emma on the swings as a sweaty Fred\n APPROACHES carrying a tennis racket. (We see", "\n March twenty-fifth, 1988.\n\n MAGGIE\n What?\n\n RICK\n The day I lost my virginity. March\n 25th, 1988 at approximately ten-\n thirty in the evening.\n Maggie thinks about this.\n\n MAGGIE\n What are you talking about? We were\n dating then.\n Rick nods. She looks at him, not sure if she understands.\n\n RICK\n You were my first. And you", "RICK\n\n (WEAKLY)\n Well.. .the genie was getting the\n dough, not her.\n\n (RECOVERING)\n Come on, be reasonable, it was just\n guy-talk--it's not like it could\n really happen.\n Maggie shakes her head, disgusted, and leaves the room.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Love you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RESTAURANT -", "at this, but she seems a nick uncomfortable.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding.\n\n MAGGIE\n I know.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Now come on, let's go find Grace\n and get something to eat. I'm\n starving.\n As they head back to the party, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK'S TOYOTA AVALON - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Rick is", "I don't\n go after the divorcee business\n unless they approach me first.\n\n FRED\n Yeah, it's kind of tacky, huh?\n As the guys crane their necks to get a better view of Missy's\n ass, we...\n REVERSE ANGLE to reveal Maggie, Grace and Dr. Lucy sipping\n lemondrops and watching Rick and Fred from across the room.\n\n GRACE\n Look at those two meatheads\n checking out Missy Frankenfield.\n ", " GRACE\n I think we might've made a huge\n mistake.\n\n MAGGIE\n Stop thinking about it, Grace. Why\n don t you just try to get some\n sleep?\n Grace turns to Maggie.\n\n GRACE\n Sleep? I can't sleep. I don't\n understand you--how can you Just\n sit there and read knowing that\n Rick could be making out with a\n supermodel right now?\n Maggie doesn't answer.\n\n GRACE (CONT'D", "hottest\n women in the world?\n Maggie hesitates and LISTENS IN.\n\n FRED (O.S.)\n I wouldn't have to pay--I'm married\n to her.\n There's a BEAT, then the guys EXPLODE IN LAUGHTER.\n\n FRED (O.S.) (CONT'D)\n No, seriously, I'd pay five grand,\n easy.\n Maggie's JAW DROPS.\n\n BACK ON POKER GAME\n", "a\n curse. I don't want to notice, but\n I can't help it. It's always been\n like that. I figured that when I\n c jot married that would be it, but\n it wasn't--the thing,doesn't give\n two shits about marriage.\n\n MAGGIE\n\n (HURT)\n So what are you saying--you're not\n happy with our sex life?\n Rick reaches up and takes her hand.\n\n RICK\n ", "\n\n MAGGIE\n The wrong impression? What makes\n you think that--I mean, besides the\n flowers, I.D. bracelet, and love\n letter?\n Maggie picks up a card.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n\n (READING)\n 'Dearest Grace--Our final game is\n tonight. Please meet me at the\n coach's place afterwards to\n celebrate. Yours truly, Gerry.'\n\n GRACE\n Thanks for piling on.\n " ], [ "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "hall\n pass, but for me it's more of a\n Hail Mary pass. I'm serious, I\n don't know what else to do.\n Grace looks at Maggie, surprised.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Remember last week when we went to\n Lucy's award thing?\n Grace nods.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n That night when we got home, Rick\n and I were gonna.. .you know... and I\n was waiting for him in bed while", "\n DR. LUCY (CONT'D\n I'm just saying.. .maybe a little\n freedom would be good for them. And\n for you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Have you ever considered giving\n them a hall pass?\n\n GRACE\n A what?\n\n DR. LUCY\n A hall pass. A week off from\n marriage.\n Grace and Maggie stop chewing.\n\n MAGGIE\n Wait a minute. . .Are you saying let\n them go out and", " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", ".\n At the top of the stairs Fred puts his arms around her.\n\n FRED\n Why would I need a hall pass? I've\n got you.\n\n GRACE\n Not tonight you don't. I'm too\n bloated and I have cramps.\n\n FRED\n I don't mind.\n\n GRACE\n Fred, do I have to spell it out for\n you? I'm having my period.\n\n FRED\n\n (MATTER-OF-", "me.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 45.\n They sit there for a moment, quiet. Then:\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n I need this hall pass to work,\n Grace, because if it doesn't, I\n don't know what's going to happen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ESTABLISHING SHOT OF OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE - NIGHT\n We see two VERY OLD COUPLES walking out", "you\n try a hall pass out on your husband\n and let us know how it works out.\n\n DR. LUCY\n Oh, I have.\n Grace and Maggie REACT to this.\n\n MAGGIE\n You're telling us you let Charlie\n sleep with another woman?\n Dr. Lucy takes a moment before answering.\n\n DR. LUCY\n I am not telling you that. I am\n telling you that I gave him the\n freedom to choose for himself.\n\n GRACE\n And", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", "napkins.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n So what's up with the ring?\n He looks at his finger, then back at her.\n\n RICK\n Um...have you ever heard of a hall\n pass?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BALL TEAM BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Grace pulls up in her Camry and gets out. She hears MUSIC\n coming from inside and hesitates a BEAT before walking\n nervously onto the porch and KNO", "& GRACE'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Fred and Grace climb the stairs at the end of the day.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 38.\n\n FRED\n I don't know, I think this is some\n very forward-thinking on Maggie's\n part.\n\n GRACE\n Quit lobbying--you're not getting a\n hall pass. And you mark my words,\n this is going to end up biting\n Maggie in the ass", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", ",\n man?\n\n FLATS\n Great. What's up with you? How's\n that hall pass thing going?\n Rick makes a Scooby Doo sound, alarmed.\n\n RICK\n Who told you about that--was it Hog-\n head?\n\n FLATS\n No. Some old lady was yakking about\n it down at the post office.\n Rick REACTS to this.\n\n FLATS (CONT'D)\n\n (BIG", "what he's spawned.\n\n RICK\n Really? So...how's it going?\n\n BOSHANE\n Solid. Very solid.\n\n LEARY\n We're building mucho momentumo.\n Baker makes a JERK-OFF MOTION.\n\n LEARY (CONT'D)\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Hey, Baker, a hall pass ain't just\n about sex, you know.\n\n BOSHANE\n That'", "No. Of course I'm happy, honey--our\n sex life is great--not that I\n wouldn't mind a little more, but--\n look, one thing has nothing to do\n with the other. I think about sex a\n lot--all guys do--that's just the\n way it is.\n Maggie sits down beside him, clearly at the end of her rope.\n No one speaks for a few moments. Then:\n\n MAGGIE\n I'm giving you a hall pass.\n\n RICK\n", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--", " GRACE\n What are you doing here?\n He KICKS OFF THE SKI, then runs over and SHAKES HIS WET BODY\n\n ALL OVER THE GIRLS.\n\n GRACE & MAGGIE\n Gerry, stop it!\n\n GERRY\n Hey, where are the kiddies? We\n thought we'd take you all for a\n boat ride.\n\n MAGGIE\n My parents took them to Martha's\n Vineyard for the weekend", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is" ], [ "\n FRED\n Just texting Missy Frankenfield\n that we're going to be at Enter the\n Dragon--I'm covering all my bases.\n\n RICK\n You don't need Missy Frankenfield\n tonight. If we can't get the job\n done with Coakley as our wingman,\n then we're pathetic.\n Just then, Fred NOTICES something O.S.\n\n FRED\n All right, here come da man!\n CLOSE ON RESTA", "over.\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Coakley leads them into the club. Rick and Fred can't\n believe all the BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE around them.\n\n COAKLEY\n Okay, guys, you tried it your way\n and you railed miserably. You\n struck out, you were oh-for-\n everything. So now we do it my way,\n which is...\n The guys look at Coakley like Richard Gere looks at the Dalai", "\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n A bored-looking Fred is smooshed between the Chubby Blondes\n on the bed.\n\n CHUBBY BLONDE #1\n It was the greys--you know, the\n tall, skinny aliens--and they were\n all over my yard, but--and here's\n the weird thing--I wasn't at all\n afraid of them so when they asked\n me if I", "uncomfortable.\n She smiles at him and he forces a smile back, and there's\n some serious eye-contact, and then BAM!\n They DIVE AT EACH OTHER and start SUCKING FACE LIKE THERE'S\n NO TOMORROW. As they continue to MAUL EACH OTHER, they\n STUMBLE INTO THE HOUSE, and we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Leigh are leaning against the bar.\n\n", "STRIP MALL - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n TIGHT ON FRED - he's wearing SHADES and has a BASEBALL CAP\n pulled down over his eyes.\n PULL BACK TO REVEAL that he's outside a MASSAGE PARLOR. As\n he approaches the massage parlor entrance, a bunch of LADIES\n walk out of the TRAVEL AGENCY just to the right so Fred veers\n into the DRY CLEANERS to the left.\n\n INT. DRY CLEANERS -", "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT", "\n snickerdicks...Coakley's here.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. ENTER THE DRAGON NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT\n\n A mass of BEAUTIFUL GIRLS and SLICK GUYS vie for position\n outside this CROWDED CLUB.\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Rick, Fred and Coakley watching from\n across the street.\n\n COAKLEY\n I'm gonna need three-hundred bucks.\n\n F", "-tackles Rick,\n BLASTING him backwards onto the sidewalk.\n Fred and Rick manage to roll away and then CRAWL THROUGH THE\n\n FRONT ENTRANCE.\n\n INT. HOSPITAL - EMERGENCY ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Our guys barely get in the door before being PUMMELED TO THE\n FLOOR by the four cops. The TWO PEOPLE seated in the waiting\n room STAND UP IN SHOCK and then a swarm of DOCTORS and\n ", "Baker gets up from his stool.\n\n RICK\n\n (TAKEN ABACK)\n What? Why?\n\n BAKER\n I wanted to watch you guys pick up\n chicks, not talk about dicks.\n\n FRED\n Hey, greased lightning, let off the\n gas--sometimes these things take\n time.\n\n GARY\n Baker's right. This is day three\n and you haven't even talked to a\n girl.\n\n RICK\n\n", ".\n\n LEIGH\n Rockin'.\n Leigh gives him the peace sign.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 70.\n\n RICK\n R-O-C-K in the U-S-A.\n Leigh smiles and as she heads back inside, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n Fred is sitting on his bed flipping through his address book\n until he comes", "of swings.\n A moment later the guys are gone and a humbled Rick and Fred\n sit there feeling alone.\n\n FRED\n\n (BEING BRAVE)\n This is actually good--you know,\n that they're leaving. You don't\n need five hunters to bag two birds.\n\n RICK\n No, you do not. And I love those\n guys but, let's be honest, they're\n not exactly chick-magnets.\n\n FRED\n You", "Cop #2 throws the car into drive and they pull a U-ey and\n\n GIVE CHASE.\n\n INT. MINI-VAN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Fred looks regretful.\n\n FRED\n I'm sorry, man, I shouldn't have\n blamed you for this. I'm the one\n who dragged you into this thing.\n\n RICK\n No, you didn't. I went willingly.\n\n FRED\n I've been bad, Rick. I", "we SUPER:\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 65.\n\n DAY 4\n\n INT. RICK AND FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - AFTERNOON\n\n A SNORING Rick is FAST ASLEEP, sprawled out on his back on\n the bed WEARING ONLY HIS BOXERS despite the clock next to him\n reading 3:37 in the afternoon. He's surrounded by several\n left-over ROOM SERVICE TRAY", ". When they stop, we see\n that somebody has spray-painted 'HORNY OLD MAN' on the side\n of the mini-van.\n Fred jumps out and SPRINTS toward the entrance. SEVERAL COPS\n spring from their cars and give chase. Before Fred can reach\n the front doors, he gets KNOCKED VIOLENTLY to the ground.\n Rick climbs out of the passenger seat with HIS HANDS RAISED.\n\n RICK\n Hear me out, gentlemen, I can\n", "\n RICK\n Hoch-head, relax, the pool bar ain't\n going nowhere. Besides, it'll be\n good for us to get a little sun\n before making our grand entrance--\n chicks love a healthy glow.\n\n FRED\n Plus it wouldn't hurt to work up a\n little sweat--get those pheromones\n flying.\n Just then, two sexy BEER-CART GIRLS wave as they pass.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n You talked me into it.\n\n", ".\n\n BAKER\n Okay... so where to now?\n Rick can't think in this state.\n\n RICK\n Fred...?\n\n FRED\n Hm?\n\n RICK\n Answer Baker.\n\n FRED\n What's the question?\n\n RICK\n What are we doing for the rest of\n the night?\n\n FRED\n\n (DISINTERESTED)\n I don't know. Getting laid, right?\n\n ", " and she got shaken up a bit, but\n all in all she's a very lucky\n woman.\n\n FRED\n You got that wrong, doc. I'm the\n lucky one.\n Fred is visibly relieved as the doctor smiles and walks off.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Bless you, doctor!\n Fred turns to Rick and the two men hug and then Rick grabs\n Fred by the shoulders and looks him in the eye.\n\n \n\n", "is gonna be a long\n week so we should pace ourselves.\n Baker looks at his watch.\n\n BAKER\n It's only nine-thirty!\n\n FRED\n I'm with Rico.\n\n (YAWNS)\n Freddy tie-tie.\n\n GARY\n\n (DISAPPOINTED)\n Are you guys serious?\n\n RICK\n Relax, guys, this is just the calm\n before the storm. Get out the\n plywood and", ")\n 'No thank you' would have sufficed.\n Fred walks into his room and closes the door.\n\n INT. RICK & FRED'S HOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Fred goes to the mini-bar and pours himself a drink. He\n looks around the room. The week's over and he's failed\n miserably. He sits on the bed. Alone.\n Then a KNOCK. Fred gets up and opens the door.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n", "and finds Fred in a guest room\n watching a baseball game on TV.\n\n RICK\n What are you doing?\n\n FRED\n I can't take these look-at-how-much-\n I-own parties. It's obnoxious.\n Rick nods and sits down beside him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n When I bought my completely-loaded\n Honda Odyssey, I didn't go around\n bragging about it, did I?\n\n R" ], [ " with-the-professor eyes and her suddenly heaving cleavage.\n\n RICK\n Yeah. Um...I have to go, Paige, but\n it was great seeing you.\n Paige grabs Rick's arm as he tries to go. She looks suddenly\n annoyed.\n\n PAIGE\n Are you serious? You're doing this\n again... even with a hall pass?\n\n RICK\n Paige, you're my kids' babysitter.\n Have a happy birthday.\n", ".)\n Hi, Mr. Mills.\n Rick turns to see that he's crammed in beside his babysitter\n Paige who's looking a LITTLE TIPSY.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 84.\n\n RICK\n Oh, hey, Paige. What are you doing\n here?\n She pulls out her license and holds it up.\n\n PAIGE\n I turned twenty-one yesterday.\n\n (DRUNKEN SMI", "\n \n\n 41.\n\n RICK\n\n (TO BARTENDER)\n Five MGD's, my friend.\n While waiting for the beers, the guys CHECK OUT THE SCENE.\n It's mostly FAMILIES, a few YOUNG COUPLES.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n The guy at the Holiday Inn Express\n told me this place really kicks in\n around nine-thirty.\n\n BAKER\n Hey, why are you", " RICK\n I know. She's okay.\n Maggie goes back to the phone.\n\n MAGGIE\n\n (INTO PHONE)\n And they let you go?\n\n (BEAT)\n Okay... so you're on your way?\n Great.\n\n (BEAT)\n I love you, too, honey.\n She hangs up.\n\n MAGGIE CONT'D)\n My God, she scared ( me to death.\n\n RICK", "the kids to the park, then to the\n party. You can dust stay in bed,,\n get your beauty sleep, and bask in\n the sweet, sweet pounding I'm about\n to give you.\n\n MAGGIE\n I love it when you sweet-talk me.\n Maggie smiles but as Rick opens the front door they FREEZE IN\n\n THEIR TRACKS.\n THEIR POV - the babysitter (PAIGE, 20, cute) is standing\n there with their 4-year-old", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", "cradles her baby and LEANS CLOSER to\n the monitor.\n\n RICK (O.S.)\n I honestly don't know, fellas.\n\n BAKER (O.S.)\n Ballpark.\n PUSH IN ON MAGGIE as she waits nervously for her husband's\n answer.\n\n RICK (O.S.)\n Well... I've got a great wife and I\n sure wouldn't want to hurt her\n feelings, so...\n Maggie SMILES at this", "couple other PLAYERS amble over.\n\n GERRY\n Dudes, they're not nannies, they're\n mommies.\n\n PLAYER #2\n No way?!\n\n GRACE\n Well, she is, not me. I'm not old\n enough yet.\n Maggie and the players LAUGH.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (O.S.)\n Guys!\n The players turn to see their coach, RICK COLEMAN,\n approaching with MAG", "\n \n\n 98.\n\n FRED\n Hi. May I help you?\n REVERSE ANGLE REVEALS Paige's Aunt Meg. She's wearing a\n skirt and low-cut tank top and has cougar written all over\n her.\n\n AUNT MEG\n Rick, my name's Meg. I'm your\n babysitter Paige's aunt, and I just\n wanted to come over here and tell\n you this: They don't make men like\n you", " and she got shaken up a bit, but\n all in all she's a very lucky\n woman.\n\n FRED\n You got that wrong, doc. I'm the\n lucky one.\n Fred is visibly relieved as the doctor smiles and walks off.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Bless you, doctor!\n Fred turns to Rick and the two men hug and then Rick grabs\n Fred by the shoulders and looks him in the eye.\n\n \n\n", " CLOSE ON A BABY MONITOR - PULL BACK to reveal that it's in\n the middle of a POKER TABLE next to a pile of ONE-DOLLAR\n BILLS. Sitting around the table PLAYING LIAR'S POKER are\n Rick, Fred, GARY, HOG-HEAD, BAKER, and FLATS, all in their\n mid-30's to mid-40's. Hog-head has a huge melon, Baker is\n husky, Flats", "baby?\n Rick points to the BABY MONITOR in the middle of the table.\n\n RICK\n Not a peep.\n\n MAGGIE\n Great job. Now win some money,\n honey.\n She kisses Rick and walks out of the room.\n\n GARY\n I wish I could drink tequila. It's\n a great buzz but it always gives me\n the spins and then I have to go\n home early.\n\n FRED\n You want to know a", " RICK\n\n (GETTING IT)\n It was your air space.\n\n WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)\n Hey, guys.\n They turn to see a BEAUTIFUL WOMAN with a healthy tan walking\n past carrying several drinks. This is MISSY FRANKENFIELD,\n mid-30's.\n\n RICK AND FRED\n Hey, Missy.\n\n MISSY\n (CALLING back to them)\n Don't forget to mingle!", " Rick looks disappointed.\n\n LEIGH (CONT'D)\n I'm gonna grab two.\n Leigh flashes him a smile and as she walks away, she gives\n him the peace sign. He returns it.\n\n RICK\n Peace it!\n As soon as he hears himself, Rick cringes.\n\n CUT TO:\n CLOSE ON RICK'S FACE - he's wearing the headphones and has\n worked up a PRETTY GOOD SWEAT.\n PULL B", "up to Rick.\n\n BURLY OFFICER\n Uh, before you 'go love that lady',\n we're going to have to write you\n guys up.\n As the officer pulls out his CITATION PAD, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BEACH COTTAGE - NIGHT\n\n Rick pulls up in the wrecked mini-van and gets out.\n\n INT. BEACH COTTAGE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Rick steps quietly into the house. He sees", " Maggie shoots him a look and Rick smiles.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I'm kidding. Okay, kids, first one\n in the tub gets college paid for.\n Emma and Gunnar just stare at him.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n Come on, you bums, let's go!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 4.\n As Rick starts to tickle his kids they run out of the room,\n\n AND WE\n", "Baker gets up from his stool.\n\n RICK\n\n (TAKEN ABACK)\n What? Why?\n\n BAKER\n I wanted to watch you guys pick up\n chicks, not talk about dicks.\n\n FRED\n Hey, greased lightning, let off the\n gas--sometimes these things take\n time.\n\n GARY\n Baker's right. This is day three\n and you haven't even talked to a\n girl.\n\n RICK\n\n", " FRED\n Jackpot, baby.\n Rick NOTICES SOMETHING O.S..\n\n RICK\n How about those two?\n ANGLE ON two pretty LATINO WOMEN sitting alone at a table.\n\n FRED\n Ooh, yeah. Daddy likes.\n Fred pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket and hands\n it to Rick.\n\n RICK\n What's this?\n\n FRED\n I went on-line this afternoon and\n wrote down", "the whole world--don't\n ever say anything bad about her.\n Just then, MAGGIE comes GRUNTING into the room carrying a ONE-\n YEAR-OLD BABY in one arm and a basket of laundry in the\n other. She's in her late-30's, cute, with short, manageable\n mommy hair. She's wearing SWEATPANTS, an OVERSIZED T-SHIRT,\n and NO MAKE-UP.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n", "\n Rick is pulling away from Coakley's house when the car phone\n RINGS. Rick pushes a button to ANSWER.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n RICK\n Hello.\n\n MAN'S VOICE (V.0.)\n\n (ON SPEAKERPHONE)\n Yes, is this Fred Searing?\n\n RICK\n Oh, uh, no, I'm sorry, he's not\n here right now. I'm" ], [ "W MINUTES LATER\n Rick and Fred, now with coffees, sit at the rear of the shop.\n\n RICK\n Did you notice she's from Cleavage,\n Ohio?\n\n FRED\n Yeah. I bet her areolas look like a\n couple of pepperoni slices.\n Fred trains his eyes back on Coffee Girl and SQUINTS\n\n INTENSELY.\n\n RICK\n What the hell are you doing?\n\n FRED\n Shh. I'm taking", "as he wipes down a counter.\n\n BACK ON COFFEE GIRL AND OUR GUYS\n\n COFFEE GIRL\n (re: Rick's shirt)\n Hey, Old Navy, you like a muffin\n with that?\n\n RICK\n Uh, sure. What do you recommend?\n\n COFFEE GIRL\n They're all good.\n The Wannabe Artist-Type steps protectively up beside Coffee\n Girl.\n\n WANNAB", "CUT TO:\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 67.\n\n INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY\n\n Rick stands in line at the coffee shop looking casual in\n slacks and a Harvard t-shirt. Music plays. He peers ahead\n and sees the Wannabe Artist-Type taking the order of a\n TEENAGE GIRL. At the other register, Coffee Girl is also\n taking orders. Rick is hoping to get Coffee Girl but Wannabe\n gets to him first.\n", " As Rick walks away, we go\n BACK ON COAKLEY AND FRED as Rick arrives with the champagne.\n\n COAKLEY\n Here we go, bubbles doth floweth.\n\n FRED\n Holy crap... look who's here.\n The guys turn to see the coffee girl, Leigh, walking past\n with two of her GIRLFRIENDS. She sees them and LIGHTS UP.\n\n LEIGH\n Hey, Rick! What happened yesterday--\n I thought we were gonna", "ares at Fred.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 88.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I thought the massage parlor was\n admitting defeat?\n\n FRED\n I had a knot in my neck--why the\n hell didn't you tell me you saw\n Coffee Girl?!\n\n COAKLEY\n Okay, guys, cut the crap. We're all\n here for the same thing. And I'll\n give you a hint what", "to make the coffee, Wannabe\n SAYS SOMETHING to her that WE CAN'T HEAR and they both LAUGH.\n A PHONE RINGS in the employee room. Leigh hands Wannabe the\n coffee, then runs back to answer it. Wannabe hands Rick the\n iced coffee and winks at him.\n\n WANNABE\n Enjoy your two-Splenda'd iced\n coffee, mister.\n Rick starts to go, then turns around and stares at Wannabe.\n ", "O.S.\n\n RICK\n Uh-oh...\n HIS POV - SLO-MO of a BEAUTIFUL GIRL walking toward him. Her\n straight brown hair shimmers.. .her blue eyes twinkle.. .her\n white uniformed blouse is unbuttoned enough to reveal a\n tasteful amount of CLEAVAGE. This is COFFEE GIRL, 23,\n granola, fresh, Australian, spacey.\n BACK ON THE GUYS staring in awe.\n\n", "\n\n RICK\n You mean like our wives?\n\n FRED\n Yeah, like that, but not them.\n Fred sits in the chair across from Rick.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n I was thinking Coffee Girl.\n\n RICK\n You've won over Coffee Girl?\n\n FRED\n Well, I'm sure she'd recognize me.\n Rick thinks about this.\n\n RICK\n Look, if you really want to go\n after someone you already know,", "She hands Rick his change and he dumps it in the tip jar.\n\n RICK\n Nice soundtrack. Pretty solid\n movie, too.\n Wannabe BARKS out a LAUGH.\n\n WANNABE\n Dude, you're thinking of Snow Do s--\n the Cuba Gooding kiddie flick. This\n is Snow Patrol, the band.\n Rick shrugs, a little embarrassed.\n\n LEIGH\n Thanks for the tip.\n As Leigh grabs a cup and goes", "FFEE GIRL\n So did you go to Harvard?\n She nods at Rick's t-shirt.\n\n RICK\n Yeah.\n\n (BEAT)\n I mean, you know...I went to a\n party there once.\n Coffee Girl GIGGLES and Rick perks up.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n\n (RE:SHIRT)\n Actually, this is Harvard Health\n Care. Sleep apnea... snoring too\n much.\n (holds up gym", "\n RICK\n Uh, she knows how I like it.\n\n WANNABE\n\n (ATTITUDE)\n Little help, Leigh--your unique\n barista skills have been requested.\n Rick waves weakly to Leigh and winks. As Leigh approaches,\n Wannabe mocks Rick by waving at him and winking.\n\n LEIGH\n Hi. What would you like?\n Rick was hoping to have a conversation but Wannabe is\n crowding them.\n\n ", " RICK\n Iced coffee. With two Splendas.\n Leigh rings him up.\n\n LEIGH\n That'll be two dollars.\n Rick hands her a fiver and nods toward the speakers.\n\n RICK\n By the way, nice tunes. Do you\n choose 'em or do they come down\n from corporate?\n\n LEIGH\n Me. It's Snow Patrol.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 68.\n ", "CONT'D)\n How about your mate there?\n\n RICK\n\n (STUNNED)\n Uh...same.\n Her smile comes with a squint, which makes her eyes sparkle.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 17.\n ANOTHER ANGLE reveals a WANNABE ARTIST-TYPE MALE EMPLOYEE,\n mid-20's (clearly covetous of Coffee Girl) sizing Rick and\n Fred up", " FRED\n Did you see her face? Her face is\n tremendous.\n\n RICK\n (chanting, scared)\n Please don't have a nice ass,\n please don't have a nice ass...\n But as she turns to pour a cup of coffee, we see that HER ASS\n IS SPECTACULAR. Rick turns away, annoyed.\n\n RICK (CONT'D\n Oh, come on! That's ri iculous.\n\n FRED\n I know. She's from", "igh\n\n HAS BEEN WATCHING THIS.\n\n EXT. COFFEE SHOP - A FEW MINUTES LATER\n\n Rick sits alone at a table on the sidewalk drinking his\n coffee. He NOTICES some postcards advertising a two-week\n free trial at the local gym and starts to read them.\n\n LEIGH (O.S.)\n I work-out there.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 69.\n Rick looks up, suddenly finding himself alone with", "Leigh.\n\n RICK\n You do?\n Leigh nods and starts to straighten up the tables.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I work-out at home, but I was\n thinking of going public with my\n work-outs. What do you squat?\n She seems amused by this.\n\n LEIGH\n I don't really squat, just run on\n the hamster-wheel everyday after\n work.\n She starts wiping down a table.\n\n CO", "be all sorts of emotions\n churning up with the divorce and\n everything.\n She gives him a long look.\n\n MISSY FRANKENFIELD\n Maybe we should go somewhere else--\n this doesn't seem like the best\n place to spill one's guts.\n Just then, Coakley swoops in and pulls Fred aside.\n\n COAKLEY\n\n (UNDER BREATH)\n What part of 'go ugly early' didn't\n you understand? You've got a", "DAY\n\n Maggie, Grace, and Dr. Lucy eat at an upscale restaurant.\n Dr. Lucy listens quietly to the women.\n\n GRACE\n Fred said five grand? What a\n blowhard!\n\n MAGGIE\n You know what's even funnier? Hog-\n head McCormick said he'd pay seven\n grand.\n\n GRACE\n What?! That bum hasn't worked since\n the dot-com bust--his wife supports\n him!\n The girls LA", "Australia. Been\n working here about a month.\n\n RICK\n Why'd you have to bring me here?!\n\n FRED\n Okay, cool it, tiger--here she\n comes.\n Coffee Girl steps up to the counter and smiles at Fred.\n\n COFFEE GIRL\n\n (AUSTRALIAN ACCENT)\n Iced coffee with two Splendas\n again?\n Fred wants to say yes, but just nods.\n\n COFFEE GIRL (", "laid two\n or three times at most.\n She looks up and forces a smile.\n\n MAGGIE\n Ha-ha.\n Maggie checks her watch.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Jeez, I wonder what's taking Grace\n so long?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 103.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n Well, if she went over to break the\n kid's heart, the least she could do\n" ], [ "back to their car, we go...\n CLOSE ON a smiling Fred.\n\n FRED\n I got a Hall Pass!\n\n INT. RICK'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rick is at his desk staring at a giddy Fred.\n\n RICK\n How?\n\n FRED\n Doesn't matter how. I got one. Can\n you believe it?! I got a hall pass!\n Rick stands up, elated.\n\n RICK\n And I've got a hall", "\n\n\n \n HALL PASS\n\n\n\n Written by\n\n Peter Farrelly, Bobby Farrelly, Kevin Barnett & Pete Jones\n\n\n\n\n\n\n September 18, 2009\n \n\n \n\n FADE IN:\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT\n\n Very late. All is quiet. Then a battered MINI-VAN blows by\n a row of hedges that have been pruned to read: '", "now I\n may lose her.. .because of you.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?! You\n said our wives were living their\n dreams, with their fancy gas ovens,\n and that our dream was the hall\n pass! How can you blame this on\n me?!\n\n FRED\n I'd never even heard of a hall pass\n until you flaunted yours in my\n face! 'Hey, look at me, I've got a\n hall pass--everyone should have a\n hall pass", " All right, don't give up.\n\n FRED\n I'm not giving up, I'm facing facts-\n -this is our last day and we got\n nothing cooking. Maybe you were\n right. Maybe we should just tell\n the girls to come home.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79.\n\n RICK\n No. I want the hall pass.\n Fred looks at Rick, surprised.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n At", "give him a\n hall pass.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n So what? If you were my girl, I\n wouldn't have taken it.\n An awkward moment. Rick touches her hand and Maggie looks\n away.\n\n RICK COLEMAN (CONT'D)\n You deserve way better.\n\n MAGGIE\n Uh, in Rick's defense, he didn't\n really even want the hall pass. I\n kind of forced it on him.\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n ", " A what?\n\n MAGGIE\n One week off from marriage.\n\n RICK\n You mean, like a trial separation?\n You are seriously overreacting.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a separation, it's a hall\n pass. You can do whatever you want.\n Get it out of your system.\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n Wait a minute--are you for real?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "\n\n RICK\n Well, what if we just tell them\n that we did hook up?\n\n FRED\n We can't. Grace'll know. She always\n knows when I'm lying.\n\n RICK\n Hey, what about a massage parlor?\n\n FRED\n No! That's giving up.\n Fred glares at him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n You don't get it, do you? A hall\n pass ain't all about sex", "\n it looks like THEY MAY KISS, Maggie hesitates as suddenly\n\n EVERYTHING BECOMES CLEAR TO HER.\n\n MAGGIE (CONT'D)\n Oh my God...\n\n RICK COLEMAN\n What?\n\n MAGGIE\n This hall pass ...it wasn't for him.\n\n (SOFTLY)\n It was...for me.\n And as they hang on that realization, we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "pass!\n\n FRED\n We both have hall passes!\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 40.\n\n RICK\n When does yours start?\n Fred looks at his watch.\n\n FRED\n Twenty-three minutes ago! She just\n left for the Cape--she's staying\n with Maggie. It's just you and me\n for the next six days!\n\n RICK\n Oh my God, do you realize how much\n easier this is", "\n\n 34.\n\n MAGGIE\n It's not a yes or no offer, and\n it's not a debate. You're getting a\n hall pass.\n As Maggie heads upstairs, we PUSH IN on a confused Rick.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. RICK AND MAGGIE'S KITCHEN - MORNING\n\n Maggie is washing out a pan at the sink when Rick ENTERS\n dressed for work. We hear the O.S. SOUNDS of", "SMILE)\n So what's the deal--you getting\n laid?\n\n RICK\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n What? No.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 75.\n\n RICK (CONT'D)\n I don't know where you're getting\n your information, Flats, but a hall\n pass isn't just about getting laid,\n it's about getting a week off from\n marriage to do as you please--", "CONT'D)\n Hey, about this hall pass\n business.. .1 don't want it and I\n don't need it. All I need is--\n\n MAGGIE\n I told you, this isn't negotiable.\n She turns and faces him.\n\n RICK\n You're really serious about this?\n\n MAGGIE\n Rick, this isn't something that\n I...look, I really think you need\n this. I think we need this.\n Rick doesn'", ". It's\n about being man enough to pick up a\n woman even though you may not be\n what--in the traditional sense--is\n considered...\n (makes quotes with\n\n FINGERS)\n .good-looking, or...\n (finger quotes again)\n .appealing.\n Rick seems stung by this news.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n Look, if we can't show that\n something positive can come from\n having a hall pass, then the whole\n concept is", "both early 40's\n and paunchy.\n\n RICK\n What are you talking about?\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 104.\n\n BAKER\n When Leary and Boshane heard about\n your guy's hall pass, they\n convinced their wives to give them\n one, too.\n A smiling Leary tries to HIGH-FIVE Rick, but he's having none\n of it. He turns to Baker, livid.\n", "\n DR. LUCY (CONT'D\n I'm just saying.. .maybe a little\n freedom would be good for them. And\n for you.\n\n (BEAT)\n Have you ever considered giving\n them a hall pass?\n\n GRACE\n A what?\n\n DR. LUCY\n A hall pass. A week off from\n marriage.\n Grace and Maggie stop chewing.\n\n MAGGIE\n Wait a minute. . .Are you saying let\n them go out and", "\n RICK\n You weren't supposed to tell anyone\n about the hall pass!\n\n LEARY\n They didn't say anything. Our wives\n heard about it at the pool.\n\n RICK\n No! At the pool?!\n Rick rubs his face, distressed.\n\n BOSHANE\n Yep. And then about three days ago--\n after some hard-core negotiating--\n we managed to push the bill\n through.\n The guys LAUGH. Rick can hardly believe", "No. Of course I'm happy, honey--our\n sex life is great--not that I\n wouldn't mind a little more, but--\n look, one thing has nothing to do\n with the other. I think about sex a\n lot--all guys do--that's just the\n way it is.\n Maggie sits down beside him, clearly at the end of her rope.\n No one speaks for a few moments. Then:\n\n MAGGIE\n I'm giving you a hall pass.\n\n RICK\n", "what he's spawned.\n\n RICK\n Really? So...how's it going?\n\n BOSHANE\n Solid. Very solid.\n\n LEARY\n We're building mucho momentumo.\n Baker makes a JERK-OFF MOTION.\n\n LEARY (CONT'D)\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Hey, Baker, a hall pass ain't just\n about sex, you know.\n\n BOSHANE\n That'", ", um, two bottles of Moet and\n six glasses please.\n Paige eyes Rick as she sips her drink.\n\n PAIGE\n So does it work both ways?\n\n RICK\n What?\n\n PAIGE\n The hall pass. Does your wife get\n one, too.\n\n RICK\n\n (AMUSED)\n Uh, no, no. A hall pass is for men\n only.\n\n PAIGE\n Oh. Who made that rule?\n\n", "'s my\n age.\n\n RICK\n Nice.\n Rick continues to try to get the bartender's attention.\n\n PAIGE\n So, Rick, how's the hall pass\n going?\n Paige smirks at Rick who shrinks a little.\n\n PAIGE (CONT'D)\n You don't mind if I call you Rick,\n do you? I am officially an adult\n now.\n\n RICK\n No, of course not--what did you\n" ], [ "those\n things.\n As Rick drops his club and walks toward the brownies, we\n\n SUPER:\n\n 75 MINUTES LATER\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY\n\n A dazed and confused Rick and Fred are RECLINING in their\n cart in the middle of the fairway. For a while neither of\n them speak. Then:\n\n FRED\n What kind of soap do you use?\n\n RICK\n\n (BEAT)\n ", "Fred, now dressed, hurries across the parking lot with Rick\n on his heels. Fred has BLOOD-STAINED TISSUE stuffed up his\n nose.\n\n FRED\n What did they tell you? Is Grace\n gonna be okay?\n\n RICK\n All I know is she was in a car\n accident and they rushed her to the\n hospital.\n\n FRED\n Oh my God...\n Suddenly they hear O.S. GLASS SHATTERING. They look up and\n\n REACT", "and finds Fred in a guest room\n watching a baseball game on TV.\n\n RICK\n What are you doing?\n\n FRED\n I can't take these look-at-how-much-\n I-own parties. It's obnoxious.\n Rick nods and sits down beside him.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n When I bought my completely-loaded\n Honda Odyssey, I didn't go around\n bragging about it, did I?\n\n R", "S Hog-head down in a greenside bunker\n PULLING UP HIS PANTS. As he starts to KICK SAND over his\n O.S. POOP like a cat in its litter box, we HEAR a noise and\n the guys look up.\n THEIR POV - the Golf Ranger comes flying over a hill heading\n straight for them.\n\n FRED\n Run for it!\n The guys run toward Rick's cart, jump in, and take off. Rick\n and Fred are in the seats, while", " 51.\n\n RICK\n Shut up, Fred.\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Guys, I gotta go poo again.\n\n GARY\n I didn't lose it, I think it was\n stolen.\n\n RICK\n\n (ANNOYED)\n Who would steal a golf cart?\n Gary shrugs.\n\n GARY\n Criminals?\n\n HOG-HEAD\n Does anyone have any napkins?\n\n GARY\n ", ". When they stop, we see\n that somebody has spray-painted 'HORNY OLD MAN' on the side\n of the mini-van.\n Fred jumps out and SPRINTS toward the entrance. SEVERAL COPS\n spring from their cars and give chase. Before Fred can reach\n the front doors, he gets KNOCKED VIOLENTLY to the ground.\n Rick climbs out of the passenger seat with HIS HANDS RAISED.\n\n RICK\n Hear me out, gentlemen, I can\n", "of swings.\n A moment later the guys are gone and a humbled Rick and Fred\n sit there feeling alone.\n\n FRED\n\n (BEING BRAVE)\n This is actually good--you know,\n that they're leaving. You don't\n need five hunters to bag two birds.\n\n RICK\n No, you do not. And I love those\n guys but, let's be honest, they're\n not exactly chick-magnets.\n\n FRED\n You", "having\n lunch with their two young children. Their 7-Year-Old\n Daughter is again dressed just like her mother and the 5-Year-\n Old Son is dressed like the father.\n\n 7-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER\n Hey, Mom, look!\n The family turns to see...\n THEIR POV - a stoned-looking Rick, Fred, Hog-head and Gary\n are driving the golf cart down the city street. They stop at\n a traffic light beside them. All the guys stare straight\n ahead", " and she got shaken up a bit, but\n all in all she's a very lucky\n woman.\n\n FRED\n You got that wrong, doc. I'm the\n lucky one.\n Fred is visibly relieved as the doctor smiles and walks off.\n\n FRED (CONT'D)\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Bless you, doctor!\n Fred turns to Rick and the two men hug and then Rick grabs\n Fred by the shoulders and looks him in the eye.\n\n \n\n", "og-head SPRAWLED OUT ON HIS BACK IN\n A SAND TRAP. He's not moving.\n\n FRED\n\n (CALLING OUT)\n Hog-head...? Are you okay?\n As Hog-head starts to make SNOW ANGELS IN THE SAND, an\n elderly COURSE RANGER pulls up in a golf cart.\n\n RANGER\n What the hell is he doing?\n Rick and Fred grow visibly tense at the sight of an authority\n figure", "and Grace and Maggie\n and the coach can't help but LAUGH along with him, as we\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. RAMADA INN - NIGHT\n\n Rick and Fred pull into the hotel's lot in the mini-van. As\n Rick gets out, Fred reaches behind his seat and comes out\n clutching a MOTORCYCLE HELMET. Rick stares at him.\n\n FRED\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n Chicks dig motorcycles.\n\n ", "batten down the\n hatches.\n\n FRED\n That's right. Tonight we build up\n strength, tomorrow we make\n landfall.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n Law & Order MUSIC CUE as we SUPER:\n\n DAY 2\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - MORNING\n\n Rick, Fred, Hog-head, and Gary are stretching on the first\n tee of a local FOUR-STAR GOLF RESORT while taking", ", what are you doing here?\n\n FRED\n I called your office and they told\n me you were in the neighborhood.\n Rick turns to the couple.\n\n RICK\n Oh, this is a friend of mine, Fred\n Searing. Fred, this is Harold and\n Nancy Goldberg--they're moving up\n here from Long Island.\n\n FRED\n Well, mazel tov, folks.\n The Goldbergs look at Fred a little warily as he takes out a\n card.\n\n", "DRIVES OFF toward the TWO\n ASIAN FOURSOMES waiting on the tee behind them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n SUPER:\n\n 27 MINUTES LATER\n\n EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY\n\n The four guys are unnaturally bunched together on another\n fairway.\n\n RICK\n Think. Where did you last see it?\n\n GARY\n On the course.\n\n RICK\n Where", "Cop #2 throws the car into drive and they pull a U-ey and\n\n GIVE CHASE.\n\n INT. MINI-VAN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Fred looks regretful.\n\n FRED\n I'm sorry, man, I shouldn't have\n blamed you for this. I'm the one\n who dragged you into this thing.\n\n RICK\n No, you didn't. I went willingly.\n\n FRED\n I've been bad, Rick. I", ", now there's two of 'em!\n\n FRED\n I don't care--I'm not stopping 'til\n we get there!\n\n RICK\n Are you crazy?!\n\n FRED\n Yeah, I'm crazy! I'm crazy about my\n wife!\n\n ESTABLISHING SHOT OF A CAPE COD HOSPITAL - NIGHT\n Rick and Fred come SKIDDING UP to the EMERGENCY ENTRANCE\n followed by the two police cruisers", " FRED\n Jackpot, baby.\n Rick NOTICES SOMETHING O.S..\n\n RICK\n How about those two?\n ANGLE ON two pretty LATINO WOMEN sitting alone at a table.\n\n FRED\n Ooh, yeah. Daddy likes.\n Fred pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket and hands\n it to Rick.\n\n RICK\n What's this?\n\n FRED\n I went on-line this afternoon and\n wrote down", ".\n\n BAKER\n Okay... so where to now?\n Rick can't think in this state.\n\n RICK\n Fred...?\n\n FRED\n Hm?\n\n RICK\n Answer Baker.\n\n FRED\n What's the question?\n\n RICK\n What are we doing for the rest of\n the night?\n\n FRED\n\n (DISINTERESTED)\n I don't know. Getting laid, right?\n\n ", "ICK\n Well, kind of. You made me drive\n around town with you for two hours,\n remember?\n\n FRED\n\n (DEFENSIVE)\n I thought you'd want to watch a\n movie in a mini-van. You never got\n to watch a movie in a mini-van\n before, did you?\n Rick shrugs.\n\n RICK\n Why'd you have to hook your boat up\n to it?\n\n FRED\n Because it's the Touring Edition", "\n FRED\n Just texting Missy Frankenfield\n that we're going to be at Enter the\n Dragon--I'm covering all my bases.\n\n RICK\n You don't need Missy Frankenfield\n tonight. If we can't get the job\n done with Coakley as our wingman,\n then we're pathetic.\n Just then, Fred NOTICES something O.S.\n\n FRED\n All right, here come da man!\n CLOSE ON RESTA" ] ]

[ "Where do Maggie and Grace spend the Hall Pass week?", "What do Rick and Fred eat on day 2 of their Hall Pass week?", "Who is Brent to Leigh?", "What is the name of the bar that Rick and Fred go to on day 6 of their Hall Pass week?", "Who is Paige to Rick?", "Who does Fred fake having oral sex with at the hotel?", "What causes Grace to have a car accident?", "What part of Grace's body was broken during her car accident?", "Who was Paige with at Enter the Dragon?", "Where do Maggie and Grace spend their hall pass?", "Why did the guys destroy the golf course?", "Why did Rick have to get pulled out of the hot tub by two naked men?", "What kind of business does Leigh work in?", "Why don't Rick and Leigh end up having sex?", "How long was the hall pass for?", "How do Paige and Rick know each other?", "Who gets into a car accident?", "Who performed fake oral sex?", "Who is Paige attracted to?", "What did Rick and Fred spend day four suffering from?", "Who did Fred use his hall pass with?", "How long was this Hall Pass to last?", "Who tries to seduce Maggie but gets rejected?", "Who does Grace use her hall pass with?", "On what day do Rick and Fred go into Enter the Dragon?", "What is Rick's children babysitters name?", "What was the waitresses name at the local coffee shop?", "What ends up happening on day one of hall pass week?", "What causes Rick and Fred to wreck havoc on the gold course?" ]

[ [ "At Maggie's parents house.", "Cape Cod" ], [ "Hash brownies", "hash brownies" ], [ "Her coworker.", "Her coworker" ], [ "Enter the Dragon.", "Enter the Dragon" ], [ "His children's babysitter.", "His children's babysitter" ], [ "Meg.", "Paige's Aunt Meg" ], [ "She feels guilty for cheating on Fred.", "she feels guilty about cheating on Fred" ], [ "Her nose.", "Nose" ], [ "Her Aunt Meg.", "Her aunt Meg." ], [ "In Cape Cod", "Maggies' parents' house in Cape Cod" ], [ "They were high on hash.", "They were high on hash brownies." ], [ "Because he fell asleep in there and his legs were too weak", "His muscles atrophied." ], [ "Coffee Shop", "A coffeeshop." ], [ "He didn't want to cheat on Maggie", "Rick goes to a party at Coakley's." ], [ "A week", "One week" ], [ "She used to babysit for him", "Paige babysits Rick's children" ], [ "Grace", "Grace" ], [ "Fred", "Fred" ], [ "Rick", "Rick" ], [ "a hangover", "hangover" ], [ "Paige's aunt Meg", "Meg" ], [ "one week", "A week" ], [ "Gerry's coach", "Gerry's coach" ], [ "Gerry", "Gerry" ], [ "six", "day six" ], [ "Paige", "Paige" ], [ "Leigh", "Leigh" ], [ "Rick and Fred eat and get too tired to go out.", "Fred and Rick eat a meal before going to the local bar and are then too tired to go out." ], [ "eating hash brownies", "They get too high on hash brownies" ] ]

[ [ "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "in the courtroom. \n Rita, stunned and incredulous; Turner and his associate\n smirking at him; Ifty, shaking his head; Robert, his face in\n his hands; Miss Wright, Margaret Brown, the State's Expert,\n almost willing him to fail. Are they right? Are they?\n\n SAM\n No, yes, no.\n\n TURNER\n No what?\n\n SAM\n Let me see let me see let me see.\n\n", "A long pause. Sam watches as Annie visibly tightens.\n\n TURNER (CONT'D)\n Excuse me, Ms. Cassell, I didn't hear\n your response. What about your father?\n\n Annie reaches for her water glass. We see her hand SHAKE. \n It knocks over the glass, shattering it on the floor.\n\n SAM\n Objection! No further questions!\n\n TURNER\n Excuse me, Mr.", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", " Except Sam. \n Who continues to stand until Rita pulls him down. Now we\n see:\n\n Ifty, Robert, Brad - and Brad's MOTHER, who sits several\n seats behind Brad knitting. Robert holds up a handmade sign\n from the back of the courtroom \"Free Lucy Dawson\".\n\n INT. COURTROOM - ONE HOUR LATER\n\n Turner, the prosecuting attorney, examines his first witness. \n He's disheveled, but don't let the rum", "you at some\n luncheon. But I'm here everyday.\n (gavel POUNDS AGAIN)\n You win, you're out the door. \n But guess who I see come back? The kid. \n Most of the time, in less than a year. \n Only now it's too late. So you're\n right. I'm real sensitive. You can't\n even touch that area.\n\n ON SAM\n\n Devast", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", "IER defiantly.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Fourteen thirty three. That's 5 ones, 2\n quarters and 16 cents less than twenty.\n\n He slowly counts his money, takes his tray and walks away. \n Rita watches him, with a trace of remorse and a hint of\n admiration.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n DR. DONOVAN, an attractive soft-spoken woman is on the stand. \n R", "hour, Sam barrels down the street\n out of his mind. Cars are jammed up. He walks over them, a\n man possessed.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Everyone is in their places, waiting.\n\n TURNER\n Your Honor, if the defendant doesn't\n have enough interest in his daughter to\n even show up -\n\n RITA\n Your Honor, I'm sure he'll be here any\n moment. This is", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", " Thank you, Sam.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n We all appreciate your assistance Mr.\n Dawson - continue with your witness, Mr.\n Turner.\n\n TURNER\n Now Ms. Geller, I assume in your therapy\n session, Mr. Dawson extolled his\n parenting abilities.\n\n THERAPIST\n On the contrary, Mr. Dawson admitted he\n felt profoundly inadequate - that he was\n terrified he", "with an expert\n witness.\n\n Rita looks at him. He's right. She chooses her words\n carefully.\n\n RITA\n I think...you deserve...a fair trial.\n\n SAM\n Answer the question.\n\n RITA\n Okay okay okay. What was the question\n again?\n\n SAM\n Do you think what they think? Sam can't\n order food. Sam can't pay a", " Nobody's interested in the truth, Daddy. \n Nobody cares!\n\n They lead her down the hallway toward Mrs. Kerry - Sam's\n voice gets louder and louder - determined to make her hear.\n\n SAM\n I CARE! DO YOU HEAR ME? THE TRUTH. \n THE WHOLE TRUTH! SO HELP ME GOD!!\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n The darkness of", "that. \n It made the song complete. That's why\n the whole world cried when they broke up\n on April 10, 1970.\n\n ON RITA\n\n Well, he has some kind of point. \n\n MARY, the Stenographer, is still typing.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Did you get that, Mary?\n\n INT. COURTROOM - LATER\n\n Turner fires questions at Sam - a mile a minute.", "\n ...could not control his emotions,\n endangering other children. Miss Brown\n also cites Mr. Dawson's mental\n deficiencies which raise serious\n questions about his ability to properly\n parent. I agree to grant petition. \n The child shall be removed from the home\n until a forma jurisdictional hearing. \n Mr. Dawson, is there anything you'd like\n to add?\n\n SAM\n Yes. I just wanted it to", "on the bench. She searches Sam's face for\n the verdict. The minute she sees sorrow in his eyes, she\n knows. She runs to him, gluing herself to his chest.\n\n LUCY\n No Daddy! No Daddy! No Daddy!\n\n In a SERIES OF WORDLESS DISSOLVES, they hold each other in\n the hallway through the entire forty five minute visit. The\n only thing moving is the hands of a large wall clock in the\n background. P", "make it worse for you. I\n can't do it. Don't you think I would if\n I could?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n We HEAR A VOICE:\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n All rise for the Honorable Judge Phillip\n McNeily.\n\n Sam stands along with others in the courtroom. The Judge\n enters and sits. Everyone else sits now, too.", "a\n cop follows. Sam struggles.\n\n ON SAM\n\n Reeling, devastated, we HEAR A JUDGE speaking:\n\n JUDGE (O.S.)\n Given the fact that the father was\n arrested for solicitation, did not\n cooperate with the police...\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Sam sits ALONE. At another table, Margaret Brown and a\n lawyer, along with several people from the CPS.\n\n JUDGE" ], [ "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "\n you need from your father. Isn't that\n right, Lucy?\n\n A LONG SILENCE. She stares at Turner defiantly.\n\n LUCY\n \"All you need is love.\"\n\n INT. COURTROOM CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n WE HEAR THAT SONG as Sam and Rita walk out of the courtroom. \n Rita is breaking pieces off a candy bar she has stuffed in\n her purse. They see Lucy running down the corridor", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", " Except Sam. \n Who continues to stand until Rita pulls him down. Now we\n see:\n\n Ifty, Robert, Brad - and Brad's MOTHER, who sits several\n seats behind Brad knitting. Robert holds up a handmade sign\n from the back of the courtroom \"Free Lucy Dawson\".\n\n INT. COURTROOM - ONE HOUR LATER\n\n Turner, the prosecuting attorney, examines his first witness. \n He's disheveled, but don't let the rum", "ias to Sam's windowsill.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in a blanket being carried by Sam toward Randy's house.\n\n INT. LUCY'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Until FINALLY, we see Lucy in her hammock at Randy's house\n looking out the windows, which have now been completely\n covered with BARS. Her room is filled with origami birds\n from the 100 Denny's napkins, her birthday gift. Lucy gets\n", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", "on the bench. She searches Sam's face for\n the verdict. The minute she sees sorrow in his eyes, she\n knows. She runs to him, gluing herself to his chest.\n\n LUCY\n No Daddy! No Daddy! No Daddy!\n\n In a SERIES OF WORDLESS DISSOLVES, they hold each other in\n the hallway through the entire forty five minute visit. The\n only thing moving is the hands of a large wall clock in the\n background. P", "court will decide what's in Lucy's best\n interest.\n\n Sam watches the cop's legs meet Lucy's under the curtain. \n Suddenly, Sam screams from the deepest core of his being.\n\n SAM\n Run, Lucy, run!\n\n We see LUCY'S FEET KICK the COP'S LEGS and wrestle out of his\n grasp. She flies out the booth, holding that balloon. She\n runs down the street, the balloon soaring into the sky -", "time Margaret avoids looking at her. Lucy runs to Rita\n and throws her arms around her waist.\n\n LUCY\n Please don't fire us. It was all my\n idea. Please don't. Please. Please.\n\n Rita is disarmed. She's moved and not used to being moved.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n BAILIFF\n ...the whole truth, and nothing but the\n truth, so help you God", "URNER\n And do you know that means if you lie\n you could be in serious trouble?\n\n LUCY\n I do.\n\n TURNER\n So now that you and I have agreed to\n tell the truth, where did you sleep last\n night?\n\n Rita glares at Margaret. Thanks a lot.\n\n LUCY\n In my bed at the Foster home.\n\n TURNER\n All right, Lucy. If you", "\n Annie sweeps her up, relieved and we --\n\n INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT\n\n Sam on stage, with Ifty and Brad as his back-up singers,\n continuing the song in the oddest, most heartfelt version to\n Lucy who sits on Robert's lap and in heaven.\n\n EXT. PARK - DAY\n\n A beautiful blue sky. And \"Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds\"\n continues as Lucy's THREE YEAR OLD laughing face SWINGS INTO\n", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", " Let it stop! No more! \n No more! No more!\n\n The Judge watches Sam, sad and stunned. The verdict is\n obvious. Sam has passed judgement on himself.\n\n EXT. CHILD AND FAMILY PROTECTIVE SERVICES - HALLWAY\n\n Sam, broken, walks down the long hallway with Rita toward\n Margaret Brown's office. Suddenly, Rita stops as she and Sam\n both see -\n\n LUCY\n\n Sitting, hopeful", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", "along and stops on the long seat at the\n back. Sam lies with Lucy spooned into the crook of his arm,\n almost asleep.\n\n SAM\n Almost there, almost there. One more\n round and she'll be down for the night.\n\n We hear the song \"Golden Slumbers\". In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, we see Lucy and Sam in DIFFERENT SLEEPING\n POSITIONS on the bus seat. Gradually, she GROWS in H", "ained, Margaret reaches for Lucy.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n C'mon, Lucy. It's time to say goodbye.\n\n LUCY\n NOOOO! Don't let go don't let go don't\n let go -\n\n Sam's tears mix with Lucy's as they sob, clinging to each\n other. With such fierce love; a parent and a child.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Don't", " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from" ], [ " No, no no. Pro-bono. Alright? Pro\n bono.\n\n The doors close. We hear from within, as Sam goes up again:\n\n SAM (O.S.)\n Yes! Alright! I liked Sonny Bono too!\n\n INT. BUS - MORNING\n\n Sam stares out the window at an unfamiliar neighborhood. On\n his lap, the pink box, now ripped, allowing us to see Lucy's\n birthday cake. It", " Except Sam. \n Who continues to stand until Rita pulls him down. Now we\n see:\n\n Ifty, Robert, Brad - and Brad's MOTHER, who sits several\n seats behind Brad knitting. Robert holds up a handmade sign\n from the back of the courtroom \"Free Lucy Dawson\".\n\n INT. COURTROOM - ONE HOUR LATER\n\n Turner, the prosecuting attorney, examines his first witness. \n He's disheveled, but don't let the rum", "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "this relationship than you.\n\n SAM\n No no no. I'm the lucky one. I have\n the lawyer that never loses.\n\n RITA\n (covering)\n That's me...okay, let me see, let me\n see, let me see.\n (pulls out notes)\n They're going to put Bill and Randy on\n the stand first and then you.\n\n SAM\n Them first,", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", "IER defiantly.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Fourteen thirty three. That's 5 ones, 2\n quarters and 16 cents less than twenty.\n\n He slowly counts his money, takes his tray and walks away. \n Rita watches him, with a trace of remorse and a hint of\n admiration.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n DR. DONOVAN, an attractive soft-spoken woman is on the stand. \n R", "hour, Sam barrels down the street\n out of his mind. Cars are jammed up. He walks over them, a\n man possessed.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Everyone is in their places, waiting.\n\n TURNER\n Your Honor, if the defendant doesn't\n have enough interest in his daughter to\n even show up -\n\n RITA\n Your Honor, I'm sure he'll be here any\n moment. This is", "from going back to Meryl Streep,\n his lawyer said it was going to cost him\n fifteen thousand dollars - and that's if\n we win!\n\n SAM\n Fifteen thousand dollars!\n\n BRAD\n Don't worry about money now. Get the\n best. Century City - Here: \"Rubel Bly\n Harrison and Williams\".\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. RITA HARRISON'S CENTURY CITY OFF", "corner of\n the corridor, huddled on a bench in dark sunglasses, sits\n ANNIE IN A PROFESSIONAL BUSINESS SUIT. Sam runs to her.\n\n SAM\n Annie! I can't believe it!\n\n ANNIE\n (visibly trembling)\n Tell them to take me quickly.\n\n RITA\n Give me one minute with the judge.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - FIFTEEN MINUTES", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", "in the courtroom. \n Rita, stunned and incredulous; Turner and his associate\n smirking at him; Ifty, shaking his head; Robert, his face in\n his hands; Miss Wright, Margaret Brown, the State's Expert,\n almost willing him to fail. Are they right? Are they?\n\n SAM\n No, yes, no.\n\n TURNER\n No what?\n\n SAM\n Let me see let me see let me see.\n\n", " What's that supposed to mean?\n\n PATRICIA\n Nothing. A cracker went down the wrong\n pipe.\n\n Muffled laughter from her colleagues.\n\n RITA\n You think I don't pro-bono?..I can do\n pro-bono.. I can do Goddamn pro-bono..\n where the hell are my keys..hold the\n door!\n\n Rita runs to the open elevator and comes face to face with\n Sam", "who does these kinds of cases. \n Leave your number. I'll see if she can\n help you.\n\n PATRICIA\n (through your phone)\n Your therapist on Line 1.\n\n RITA\n Tell him you can't find me.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n Sam is face to face with George.\n\n SAM\n I'm ready.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "s his tie.\n\n RITA\n Hello, Sam. Mr. Dawson. Sam. Dawson.\n\n SAM\n Hello, lawyer.\n\n They almost shake hands - realize that means touching each\n other and don't. Rita motions toward the door.\n\n RITA\n Shall we?\n\n SAM\n No. We already did. Don't tell\n anybody.\n\n They nervously walk through the door", "middle..it's a\n special..I'll call you.\n\n To avoid any further interaction, she heads back to the\n employee party she previously escaped from. Sam walks down\n the hall.\n\n COLLEAGUE\n Is that the new janitor?\n\n RITA\n No, it's a case. Sort of a pro-bono\n thing.\n\n Her assistant Patricia clears her throat.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n ", ".\n\n BRAD\n Here - look at this - \"Sebastion\n Gibson.\" He can do anything. \n Pedestrians. Back and neck. Uninsured\n Motorist. Dog attacks.\n\n SAM\n The Social Worker said it's a custody\n case.\n\n ROBERT\n Then get a divorce lawyer.\n\n IFTY\n When Dustin Hoffman was trying to keep\n Billy" ], [ "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", ". Jeeters tucked under her arm. Lucy crosses\n the street. HONK! the screeching of tires...\n\n EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER\n\n We're looking at an old fashioned fire escape when suddenly\n we make out a figure climbing higher and higher. It's Lucy. \n We catch glimpses of her and then lose her as the neon sign\n across the street blinks on and off.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "ara's Mommy lost her case and Tamara\n hasn't seen her in six years. She's had\n five different mommies and one of them\n hit her.\n\n SAM\n I won't let that happen.\n\n LUCY\n That's what her real mommy said. And\n now they won't even let her talk to her.\n\n Sam reels with confusion. Lucy buries herself in his chest.\n\n LUCY", " Lucy sits on the steps. Randy sits right next to her.\n\n BACK ON SAM\n\n Where he WAS standing, but is now GONE. The flowers lay in\n the dirt. From the porch, Lucy looks out and waits. And\n waits. And waits.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n It's Saturday. The place is buzzing. Sam listlessly cleans\n the tables, without the usual energy and verve. A TODDLER\n ", "t you just fall asleep, little\n girl?\n (Lucy cries harder)\n Okay, if you say it's time to get up,\n then it's time to get up, time to get\n up.\n (Sam sniffs the air)\n Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quite a bit of\n business.\n\n He rushes over to the kitchen counter and unsnaps the baby's\n pajamas, revealing a cloth diaper held together with\n promotional", "when Randy senses something. She\n opens her eyes and sees Lucy staring at her.\n\n LUCY\n Now.\n\n RANDY\n What honey?\n\n LUCY\n Now. I want to see him now.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM - 3:30 A.M.\n\n We see Sam sleeping in bed. There's a KNOCK at the door. \n Sam wakes with a start, throws down the covers.", "once again he had no idea how his\n behavior during that depression impacted\n on his daughter.\n\n RITA\n In these next months, Mr. Dawson will be\n expanding his support system to include\n Social Service programs, tutors --\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n It's too late! The foster family is\n petitioning the court for sole custody\n of Lucy and I fully support their\n request.\n\n Sam turns to Rita. This can", "\n\n TURNER\n When you were Lucy's age, were you\n living at home?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Were you living with your mother and\n father?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Well then where were you living?\n\n SAM\n (very quietly)\n In an institution.\n\n TURNER\n So your parents", "if...\"\n\n LUCY\n \"Different.\"\n\n Sam glances up at Lucy self-consciously. Lucy grabs the book\n from Sam, tosses it on the pile and picks up another.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n I don't like that book - let's read\n \"Green Eggs and Ham\".\n\n Relieved, Sam plunges into the book, which is more memorized\n than read.\n\n SAM\n \"", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", "ained, Margaret reaches for Lucy.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n C'mon, Lucy. It's time to say goodbye.\n\n LUCY\n NOOOO! Don't let go don't let go don't\n let go -\n\n Sam's tears mix with Lucy's as they sob, clinging to each\n other. With such fierce love; a parent and a child.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Don't", "OM - LATER\n\n Sam, on the stand, talks a mile a minute from the coffee.\n\n RITA\n How will you be able to pay for private\n tutoring?\n\n SAM\n There's a free program at the YMCA. \n Lucy can go there.\n\n RITA\n But don't you ever think it would be\n better for Lucy if she lived with a\n permanent foster family and you could\n visit whenever you wanted", ", but the bus continues\n on its way. Moments later, the NUMBER 34 bus pulls up. \n Flustered and worried about being late, Sam jumps on. He\n feels something cold on his hand, looks down, the box is\n starting to leak ice cream.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS OFFICE - DAY\n\n Lucy, Margaret, a therapist and a child psychologist wait for\n Sam.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, I'm sorry. But", "stupid thing I've\n ever heard you say.\n\n Sam looks at her through the window. A CHINK in the wall.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam, Sam you can get her back. The\n court favors reunification. The only\n thing that can block you is if the\n foster family petitions to adopt. And\n from what I've heard, Lucy's making\n their life miserable - that's our girl. \n Sam, fight", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'" ], [ "rieking. George looks at Sam, this can't go on.\n\t\t\t\n INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - MORNING\n\n Sam, Lucy by his side, has his foot in Annie's door.\n\n SAM\n Please, Annie! She's too big to take to\n work.\n\n ANNIE\n I'm not a baby-sitter. I'm too busy.\n\n LUCY\n Annie, Annie, Annie...\n\n", "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", "\n Sam paces, carrying Lucy who screams at the top of her lungs.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - 11:25 P.M.\n\n Sam rocks the CRYING BABY in the hammock. He's exhausted,\n but she's just getting started. He puts another blanket on\n her.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - 1:30 A.M.\n\n Peace. A punch-drunk Sam lays the sleeping baby into the\n ", " Give me - I'll take Lucy.\n\n SAM\n Maybe if you rub her tummy twenty-three\n times, tell her two stories and give her\n half a Denny's blueberry muffin and a\n third of a glass of milk she'll sleep. \n Good night.\n\n Randy and BILL, her husband, watch as Sam turns and walks\n purposely down the walkway - his houseslippers scuffling on\n the quiet street.\n\n SERIES", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", " Lucy sits on the steps. Randy sits right next to her.\n\n BACK ON SAM\n\n Where he WAS standing, but is now GONE. The flowers lay in\n the dirt. From the porch, Lucy looks out and waits. And\n waits. And waits.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n It's Saturday. The place is buzzing. Sam listlessly cleans\n the tables, without the usual energy and verve. A TODDLER\n ", "t you just fall asleep, little\n girl?\n (Lucy cries harder)\n Okay, if you say it's time to get up,\n then it's time to get up, time to get\n up.\n (Sam sniffs the air)\n Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quite a bit of\n business.\n\n He rushes over to the kitchen counter and unsnaps the baby's\n pajamas, revealing a cloth diaper held together with\n promotional", " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "tell you I can't do it\n alone, will you tell the judge?\n\n RANDY\n (turns gently)\n No.\n\n SAM\n Promise?\n\n RANDY\n Promise...\n\n SAM\n I've looked and looked for a mother for\n Lucy. \n Help, I need someone, help, not just\n anyone. You're the red in Lucy's\n painting.\n\n ON", " I can do it. I know I\n can.\n\n RANDY\n That's not up to me, but I'm telling\n you, I will do everything in my power to\n prevent Lucy from getting hurt again.\n\n Sam hangs his head. A dog barks at Randy.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n Whose dogs are these?\n\n SAM\n Supplemental income supplemental income -\n bathe, walk and", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "\n We see that he's wearing the Armani suit. Sam opens the door\n to see Randy standing there, holding a sleeping Lucy in her\n arms.\n\n RANDY\n She fell asleep on the car ride over. I\n was gonna turn back and tuck her in to\n her bed...with the pink canopy...and the\n quilt I made...But I was afraid she'd\n wake up at our house...\n (fighting the ache in her soul)\n", "ve got to keep earning more\n money for when we get you Lucy back.\n\n SAM\n Lucy doesn't need me anymore. She has a\n new family. She doesn't need me\n anymore.\n\n RITA\n Is that what she said?\n\n SAM\n She didn't have to say it. I may be\n stupid, but I know. I know.\n\n RITA\n Well that's the first", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", " but we're going to have to remove Lucy\n from your home.\n\n Sam's baffled. One cop places his hand on Sam's shoulder,\n restraining him. The OTHER heads toward the photo booth.\n\n SAM\n No, no no no. It's her birthday! It's\n her birthday!\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n I know how hard this must be...\n (cell phone rings)\n ...Hello, Bets", "ained, Margaret reaches for Lucy.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n C'mon, Lucy. It's time to say goodbye.\n\n LUCY\n NOOOO! Don't let go don't let go don't\n let go -\n\n Sam's tears mix with Lucy's as they sob, clinging to each\n other. With such fierce love; a parent and a child.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Don't", ". Jeeters tucked under her arm. Lucy crosses\n the street. HONK! the screeching of tires...\n\n EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER\n\n We're looking at an old fashioned fire escape when suddenly\n we make out a figure climbing higher and higher. It's Lucy. \n We catch glimpses of her and then lose her as the neon sign\n across the street blinks on and off.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM", ", but the bus continues\n on its way. Moments later, the NUMBER 34 bus pulls up. \n Flustered and worried about being late, Sam jumps on. He\n feels something cold on his hand, looks down, the box is\n starting to leak ice cream.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS OFFICE - DAY\n\n Lucy, Margaret, a therapist and a child psychologist wait for\n Sam.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, I'm sorry. But" ], [ " Lucy sits on the steps. Randy sits right next to her.\n\n BACK ON SAM\n\n Where he WAS standing, but is now GONE. The flowers lay in\n the dirt. From the porch, Lucy looks out and waits. And\n waits. And waits.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n It's Saturday. The place is buzzing. Sam listlessly cleans\n the tables, without the usual energy and verve. A TODDLER\n ", " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", "\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n We come back to Sam, having withdrawn completely into himself\n serenading no one.\n\n INT. LUCY'S BEDROOM - DAY\n\n We see Lucy and Randy sitting on her bed unwrapping the\n birthday presents. TIME HAS PASSED. They look close, almost\n like a mother and daughter. Lucy finishes unwrapping Sam's\n present and we see a stack of ONE HUNDRED DENNY'S NAP", "strong\n arms. For a moment they BOTH HOLD LUCY between them in the\n most unique embrace. Randy finally lets go and struggles to\n say goodbye.\n\n RANDY\n Goodnight. I'll see you in court. Save\n me a seat...on your side.\n\n Randy walks away. Stunned, Sam watches her, holding Lucy in\n his arms. Then, from a very brave place:\n\n SAM\n Randy! If I", "sizes. He heads up the walkway to\n Randy's house. She comes out of the house and shuts the door\n behind her, stopping him.\n\n RANDY\n You're early.\n\n SAM\n All the lights were green.\n\n RANDY\n There's a reason for the court schedule. \n You stopped showing up. Lucy has had to\n rebuild her life.\n\n SAM\n I want her back.", " I love you.\n\n LUCY\n My name isn't Lucy anymore, it's\n Michelle.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. BUS - NIGHT\n\n Lucy sleeps cuddled close to Sam, who is wide awake, as he\n gazes out at the passing highway, far from home. We hear the\n song \"Michelle\".\n\n EXT. PARK - 4 A.M.\n\n Sam, totally disoriented, walks in circles around the plastic\n tunnels", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", "\n We see that he's wearing the Armani suit. Sam opens the door\n to see Randy standing there, holding a sleeping Lucy in her\n arms.\n\n RANDY\n She fell asleep on the car ride over. I\n was gonna turn back and tuck her in to\n her bed...with the pink canopy...and the\n quilt I made...But I was afraid she'd\n wake up at our house...\n (fighting the ache in her soul)\n", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", ". Jeeters tucked under her arm. Lucy crosses\n the street. HONK! the screeching of tires...\n\n EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER\n\n We're looking at an old fashioned fire escape when suddenly\n we make out a figure climbing higher and higher. It's Lucy. \n We catch glimpses of her and then lose her as the neon sign\n across the street blinks on and off.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "Y\n I thought you'd be proud of me. Jo Jo's\n mom told him to lie on the stand and say\n he never saw a needle in the house; and\n he did, and now they're back together.\n\n SAM\n Jo Jo isn't us. The truth, the truth,\n when the judge hears the truth, he'll\n know, he'll know we should be together.\n\n LUCY\n (bursting)\n", "along and stops on the long seat at the\n back. Sam lies with Lucy spooned into the crook of his arm,\n almost asleep.\n\n SAM\n Almost there, almost there. One more\n round and she'll be down for the night.\n\n We hear the song \"Golden Slumbers\". In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, we see Lucy and Sam in DIFFERENT SLEEPING\n POSITIONS on the bus seat. Gradually, she GROWS in H", "ained, Margaret reaches for Lucy.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n C'mon, Lucy. It's time to say goodbye.\n\n LUCY\n NOOOO! Don't let go don't let go don't\n let go -\n\n Sam's tears mix with Lucy's as they sob, clinging to each\n other. With such fierce love; a parent and a child.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Don't", " Sam stands up, pulls\n HER BARRETTE from his pocket, the one she left at his house.\n\n SAM\n Here.\n\n Rita stares at the barrette as if it were the murder weapon.\n\n RITA\n Oh, thank you. What a...a lovely\n barrette, Mr. Dawson. It will look\n great on Lucy. Who I'm sure you bought\n it for. Furthermore, so that...there\n will", " Why don't\n you just go do something.\n\n BACK TO SAM\n\n From where he stands, all he sees is Lucy getting everything\n she deserves. He looks down at the tiny bouquet in his hand -\n feeling profoundly inadequate, he reaches for some flowers\n from a garden he's passing. Puts them in his bouquet. Then\n stops. Feels guilty. Tries to put the flowers BACK. He\n stares up at Lucy on the porch a few houses away.\n\n", "\n you need from your father. Isn't that\n right, Lucy?\n\n A LONG SILENCE. She stares at Turner defiantly.\n\n LUCY\n \"All you need is love.\"\n\n INT. COURTROOM CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n WE HEAR THAT SONG as Sam and Rita walk out of the courtroom. \n Rita is breaking pieces off a candy bar she has stuffed in\n her purse. They see Lucy running down the corridor", "\n Annie sweeps her up, relieved and we --\n\n INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT\n\n Sam on stage, with Ifty and Brad as his back-up singers,\n continuing the song in the oddest, most heartfelt version to\n Lucy who sits on Robert's lap and in heaven.\n\n EXT. PARK - DAY\n\n A beautiful blue sky. And \"Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds\"\n continues as Lucy's THREE YEAR OLD laughing face SWINGS INTO\n" ], [ " From the sidelines we hear:\n\n SAM\n Beautiful kick! Very close!\n\n Lucy looks up at her dad proudly. The ball comes again. \n Nobody could miss this one. But Lucy does.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Thatta girl! Thatta girl! They're\n getting scared now!\n\n The game continues. The GOALIE'S FATHER, DUNCAN RHODES,\n handsome, commanding and dressed in a", "RANDY\n\n So unexpectedly bonded to them both.\n\t\t\t\n EXT. SOCCER FIELD - DAY\n\n A glorious sunny day. Lucy and her team are in the middle of\n a fierce game. A foul is called when we hear -\n\n SAM\n Penalty! Rules broken. Penalty,\n please!\n\n Sam, wearing a UNIFORM and whistle around his neck, walking\n his inimitable walk, races up the field, COACH", "YLA THARP DANCE.\n\n ON LUCY\n\n She does it right back at him. Their secret code. The code\n that will bind them for the rest of their lives.\n\n ON THE CROWD AND PLAYERS\n\n All watching. What the hell was that? Sam blows his\n whistle.\n\n SAM\n Play ball! Play ball!\n\n The game heats up. Lucy's team gets the ball and is headed\n toward the goal. Sam is", " Penalty! Repeat! Rules broken! \n Penalty!\n\n RITA (O.S.)\n Penalty?! Sue him! Kick his ass outta\n the game!\n\n It's RITA! With Danny - hollering from the stands.\n\n ON LUCY\n\n Looks over at her father. Sam does every coaching gesture,\n and referee hand signal from every sport known to man. It\n looks like a bizarre TW", " of it now! You've got them scared now!\n\n Lucy's bursting with confidence, plows toward the ball and\n NAILS IT! The ball goes flying. The parents in the stand\n are completely baffled! Sam is completely ecstatic!\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n L-u-c-y! That's our battlecry!\n\n The ball heads into the goal, just passing the goalie,\n Conner. Sam runs to embrace Lucy when he he", "suit, calls to his son:\n\n MR. RHODES\n C'mon, Conner! On your toes! They're\n all counting on you!\n\n Conner tenses up, alert under the pressure. Meanwhile, down\n at the other end, the ball heads toward Lucy. She kicks it! \n Hard. Right into her team's own goal. The crowd GROANS.\n\n SAM\n Hurray, Lucy! You're getting the hang\n", "ING THE TEAM.\n\n Ifty, Robert and Brad sit in the bleachers. Robert, in\n sunglasses, paranoid, looking behind him. Brad follows\n around an attractive YOUNG WOMAN as close as he can get to\n her. Sam runs by the water stand, manned by Randy and Bill. \n\n They share a look - a moment of intense parental pride. Lucy\n and a kid named PHILLIP go after the ball.\n\n OBNOXIOUS MOM\n Get", "her! Phillip, you get her!\n\n ROBERT\n I saw that! You gave him a secret\n signal! Didn't you?\n\n IFTY\n Keep both eyes on the ball, Lucy - balls\n are round - on sale at Kmart. The earth\n is a ball, too...\n\n Phillip steps in front of Lucy and shoves her as hard as he\n can. Sam blows his whistle repeatedly and races over.\n\n SAM\n", "ping their balloons as they march\n victoriously down the street. We MOVE IN on Lucy's little\n brown shoes skipping with joy and --\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n EXT. SCHOOL FIELD - DAY\n\n Those same little shoes in the midst of a mass of black\n soccer cleats. We move up and see Lucy in the middle of a\n fierce kids soccer game.\n\n Score's tied. The ball comes to Lucy. She kicks and misses. \n", "nice\n about himself in so long. Lucy looks into her father's eyes.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Are we winning, Daddy?\n\n Sam shoots ANOTHER look. He doesn't want to lie. Lucy\n catches the look between Sam and Margaret.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Excuse me, time's up.\n\n LUCY\n Please. Just a little more.\n\n MARGARET B", " CONNER\n Are you?\n\n LUCY\n No.\n\n CONNER\n Are you sure?\n\n LUCY\n Yeah.\n\n CONNER\n How do you know?\n\n LUCY\n He told me.\n\n CONNER\n But he's a retard.\n\n LUCY\n Yeah well it takes one to know one!\n\n He crowns her - her eyes shift", " Lucy Lucy. What are you doing?! You\n could have really hurt yourself. What\n are you doing?\n\n LUCY\n I couldn't sleep. Daddy, did you know\n that Warren G. Harding was the twenty\n ninth President of the United States?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n LUCY\n Remember - the twenty-ninth President. \n In case the Judge asks.\n\n EXT. RANDY", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "to pull in the groceries. The ball of\n yarn ROLLS OUT the door and Lucy chases after it. Annie,\n terrified, bellows:\n\n ANNIE (CONT'D)\n Lucy! Come back here! Come back!\n\n It becomes obvious Annie can't walk outside. Trembling:\n\n ANNIE (CONT'D)\n \"Lucy in the sky with diamonds...\"\n\n Hearing the familiar tune, Lucy stops and toddles back. ", "atively rounds the corner. A small bouquet of\n flowers in his hands when he stops - STARING AHEAD AT --\n\n REVERSE ANGLE\n\n Lucy looking absolutely radiant in a new spring dress. She\n stands on the front porch with RANDY, who wears a red smock\n and is setting up TWO EASELS AND PAINTS. There's a tiny\n chair for Lucy and a tiny chair for her.\n\n CLOSE ON LUCY AND RANDY\n\n The tension in Lucy'", "happy hearing\n you read it.\n\n He holds the book open for Lucy. Now Lucy, pushing through a\n mountain of resistance, reads. And reads beautifully.\n\n LUCY\n \"Why are we different and so much\n alike?\"\n\n INT. SCHOOL HALLOWEEN PARADE - AUDITORIUM - DAY\n\n Two children, dressed as Batman, march followed by\n CINDERELLA. We see Lucy dressed in NEWSPAPER - an ORIGAMI" ], [ "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", "\n\n RITA\n I know, but if you -\n\n SAM\n What? Do you want me to go?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that. But do you want to\n go?\n\n SAM\n Where?\n\n RITA\n Nevermind.\n\n SAM\n Fine.\n\n RITA\n Fine.\n\n IFTY, ROB", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", ",\n be friendly but not familiar. I can be\n your friend.\n\n RITA\n (oddly touched)\n Thank you, Sam.\n\n SAM\n You need to leave your husband.\n\n RITA\n (her armor up again)\n Oh, my marriage isn't so bad.\n\n SAM\n 'Life is very short and there's no time\n for fussing and fighting, my friend.'\n\n ", "Rita's office is crying. He\n walks in and hands her a handkerchief from his pocket.\n\n SAM\n Here. Don't be sad.\n\n She looks at him as if he's from Mars. Rita, now outside her\n office, watches Sam now inside the office.\n\n RITA\n Patricia, I'm in the middle - get him\n out of there -\n\n She quickly gets up but Rita's too impatient and pushes past", " like him. He...he...\n\n The woman is distracted by a loud thumping on Rita's glass\n wall - it's SAM. Holding an envelope. Very distressed, as\n the Secretary attempts to corral him back into the lobby.\n\n RITA\n I am right here with you, excuse me.\n (she unlocks door)\n Sam? Didn't I tell you that you have to\n call?\n\n SAM\n I -", ", her shoulder, her forehead, her eyes,\n her tears. And something ignites between them - something\n confused and scary and deep and filled with a passionate\n ache.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Lovely Rita...\n\n On a bed of newspaper that was once a wall they come\n together, whole again.\n\n EXT. RANDY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY\n\n Sam rounds the corner walking - or rather being walked by SIX\n DOGS, all shapes, all", "work.\n\n RITA\n How was your day?\n\n DANNY\n You have to work. Go work.\n\n RITA\n No. How was your -\n\n Her CELL PHONE goes off. Rita moves into the hallway to\n answer her phone. Sam moves into the den, sits on the couch,\n the sound of Rita arguing with her husband drifts into the\n room. Sam looks sideways at Danny who remains stonefaced.\n\n ", " RITA\n How can you say that?\n\n SAM\n Respect is not just about how smart\n someone is. Smart is not just about how\n smart someone is.\n\n RITA\n But what about Lucy? Aren't you being\n selfish? Doesn't she deserve a better\n life? Don't you think she's just\n pretending she's happy to not hurt your\n feelings? \n\n Sam jumps", "ve got to keep earning more\n money for when we get you Lucy back.\n\n SAM\n Lucy doesn't need me anymore. She has a\n new family. She doesn't need me\n anymore.\n\n RITA\n Is that what she said?\n\n SAM\n She didn't have to say it. I may be\n stupid, but I know. I know.\n\n RITA\n Well that's the first", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", ", your friend\n who does this kind of work?\n\n RITA\n (there never was a friend)\n I don't have her number anymore, Sam. \n We lost touch.\n\n SAM\n (devastated)\n Oh, that happens. That happens. People\n lose touch. Will you call me if you\n find it? If you get back in touch?\n\n RITA\n Yes, I'm just in the", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", "\n RITA\n What the hell happened?\n (sniffing the air)\n What is that smell? Mint?\n\n Sam, determined, heads for the stand. Rita grabs Sam's\n shoulders and tries to focus him. Looks deep into his eyes.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam, look at me. Look at me! \n (he does)\n I will guide you like last night.\n (Sam hugs her)", "SAM\n No room. No room.\n\n RITA\n Hey. I lived in the East Village. I\n don't need a lot of room.\n\n SAM\n Sam makes life too hard. Sam makes life\n too hard on everyone.\n\n RITA\n Sam, I can go at least nine more rounds. \n But you gotta let me in. Please Sam. \n Please.\n\n He pulls out one small brick of", " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", "right? Everyone else is perfect\n but only Sam feels loss and pain?\n\n SAM\n That's right. People like you don't\n know.\n\n RITA\n People like me?\n\n SAM\n People like you don't know, don't know\n what hurt feels like, people like you\n don't feel, don't feel anything.\n\n She slaps him. STUNNED, he slaps her back. ", "new suit. Rita stares\n at him astonished. He looks incredibly handsome. Rita,\n attempting to stifle her reaction, turns away from Sam.\n\n SAM\n Bad?\n\n RITA\n No. Very, very good. But your tie's\n crooked.\n\n Rita stands behind Sam with her around him showing him how to\n do his tie properly. Their images are reflected in the\n mirror.\n\n RITA (CONT'" ], [ "\n\n RITA\n I know, but if you -\n\n SAM\n What? Do you want me to go?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that. But do you want to\n go?\n\n SAM\n Where?\n\n RITA\n Nevermind.\n\n SAM\n Fine.\n\n RITA\n Fine.\n\n IFTY, ROB", "work.\n\n RITA\n How was your day?\n\n DANNY\n You have to work. Go work.\n\n RITA\n No. How was your -\n\n Her CELL PHONE goes off. Rita moves into the hallway to\n answer her phone. Sam moves into the den, sits on the couch,\n the sound of Rita arguing with her husband drifts into the\n room. Sam looks sideways at Danny who remains stonefaced.\n\n ", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", "Rita's office is crying. He\n walks in and hands her a handkerchief from his pocket.\n\n SAM\n Here. Don't be sad.\n\n She looks at him as if he's from Mars. Rita, now outside her\n office, watches Sam now inside the office.\n\n RITA\n Patricia, I'm in the middle - get him\n out of there -\n\n She quickly gets up but Rita's too impatient and pushes past", "\n\n SAM\n Tweak, tweak.\n\n RITA\n (exploding)\n I drove around after work yesterday 'til\n 9:30 looking for a goddman razor\n scooter!\n\n SAM\n (in his own world)\n Tweak, squeak, peek peek...\n\n Rita shifts uneasily, embarrassed by her overreaction.\n\t\t\t\n INT. RITA'S LIBRARY", " RITA\n Mr. Dawson, it's a pleasure. Since\n somebody made a mistake, unfortunately\n we only have a little time. Hold all my\n calls unless it's my kid - I'll have a\n double cap.\n\n SAM\n Good choice, very good choice.\n\n RITA\n Can we get you anything to drink?\n\n SAM\n Is it free?\n\n ON RITA\n\n Hmmmm", ", your friend\n who does this kind of work?\n\n RITA\n (there never was a friend)\n I don't have her number anymore, Sam. \n We lost touch.\n\n SAM\n (devastated)\n Oh, that happens. That happens. People\n lose touch. Will you call me if you\n find it? If you get back in touch?\n\n RITA\n Yes, I'm just in the", "\n her into the office.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam. Sam come with me.\n (to the Couple)\n We're gonna get through this excuse\n us...\n (to Sam)\n Sam this is their turn now. Not yours. \n Theirs. If you leave now you'll never\n make it and you have to make it.\n\n SAM\n Okay okay I know I take the #34 bus and\n", " SAM\n You eat too fast. Come watch the movie.\n\n RITA\n It's getting late. We have to get to\n work.\n (handing him a suit)\n This is my husband's. He won't notice. \n He's got ten more just like it. Try it\n on.\n\n INT. RITA'S LIBRARY - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Sam comes out of the bathroom in the", "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", "s his tie.\n\n RITA\n Hello, Sam. Mr. Dawson. Sam. Dawson.\n\n SAM\n Hello, lawyer.\n\n They almost shake hands - realize that means touching each\n other and don't. Rita motions toward the door.\n\n RITA\n Shall we?\n\n SAM\n No. We already did. Don't tell\n anybody.\n\n They nervously walk through the door", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", " RITA\n How can you say that?\n\n SAM\n Respect is not just about how smart\n someone is. Smart is not just about how\n smart someone is.\n\n RITA\n But what about Lucy? Aren't you being\n selfish? Doesn't she deserve a better\n life? Don't you think she's just\n pretending she's happy to not hurt your\n feelings? \n\n Sam jumps", "SAM\n No room. No room.\n\n RITA\n Hey. I lived in the East Village. I\n don't need a lot of room.\n\n SAM\n Sam makes life too hard. Sam makes life\n too hard on everyone.\n\n RITA\n Sam, I can go at least nine more rounds. \n But you gotta let me in. Please Sam. \n Please.\n\n He pulls out one small brick of", "ve got to keep earning more\n money for when we get you Lucy back.\n\n SAM\n Lucy doesn't need me anymore. She has a\n new family. She doesn't need me\n anymore.\n\n RITA\n Is that what she said?\n\n SAM\n She didn't have to say it. I may be\n stupid, but I know. I know.\n\n RITA\n Well that's the first", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "her cry.\n\n RITA\n You got lucky.\n\n SAM\n That's not nice. Not very nice.\n\n RITA\n Only in there.\n\n SAM\n Your secretary too. Yellow and green in\n one bowl.\n (Sam stares at a bowl of Lima\n beans and corn)\n You separate the Lima beans from the\n corn please?\n\n The CAFETERIA WORKER", "\n RITA\n What the hell happened?\n (sniffing the air)\n What is that smell? Mint?\n\n Sam, determined, heads for the stand. Rita grabs Sam's\n shoulders and tries to focus him. Looks deep into his eyes.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam, look at me. Look at me! \n (he does)\n I will guide you like last night.\n (Sam hugs her)", "RITA\n (into phone)\n Then keep dialing --\n (to Sam)\n What I mean is that at this point in my\n career, I can't afford to.\n\n SAM\n I earn eight dollars an hour at\n Starbucks. I can pay your hourly rate,\n rate by the hour, hourly --\n\n Rita stands up, ushering him to the door.\n\n RITA\n Mr. Dawson, I'" ], [ "your handicap I meant your disability -\n I mean the fact that you're retarded. \n That's not the right word. I mean...\n What do I call you?\n\n SAM\n Sam. I am Sam.\n\n Rita looks at Sam as she bounds up the fourth floor.\n\n RITA\n Yes you are.\n (he hands her a list - her CELL\n PHONE RINGS)\n Hello Ted how you doing/ Wh", " Sam, still in his white apron, walks down the busy street. \n He has a fast, loping gait that doesn't slow or hesitate for\n anyone. A COUPLE argue on the sidewalk. Sam WALKS RIGHT\n BETWEEN THEM.\n\n SAM\n It's time. It's time.\n\n Sam keeps moving, he crosses the street without stopping. \n Traffic SCREECHES to a HALT! Cars HONK, a taxi driver YEL", "right? Everyone else is perfect\n but only Sam feels loss and pain?\n\n SAM\n That's right. People like you don't\n know.\n\n RITA\n People like me?\n\n SAM\n People like you don't know, don't know\n what hurt feels like, people like you\n don't feel, don't feel anything.\n\n She slaps him. STUNNED, he slaps her back. ", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", "and jungle gym. A flashlight shines in Sam's face.\n\n COP\n Hey, buddy. No loitering. Move it.\n\n SAM\n Not yet not yet not yet.\n\n COP\n You want me to get a black and white\n down here?\n\n He moves toward Sam. SUDDENLY THE SPRINKLER SYSTEM goes on. \n The cop backs off, but Sam doesn't move, standing in the\n middle of the", "this in. Sam begins to shift his tomatoes just\n so... his potatoes just slightly to the left. Lucy watches.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy, did God mean for you to be like\n this or was it an accident?\n\n SAM\n Do you mean - what do you mean?\n\n LUCY\n I mean you're different.\n\n SAM\n What do you mean? I mean, what do you\n mean?\n\n ", "you at some\n luncheon. But I'm here everyday.\n (gavel POUNDS AGAIN)\n You win, you're out the door. \n But guess who I see come back? The kid. \n Most of the time, in less than a year. \n Only now it's too late. So you're\n right. I'm real sensitive. You can't\n even touch that area.\n\n ON SAM\n\n Devast", "t you just fall asleep, little\n girl?\n (Lucy cries harder)\n Okay, if you say it's time to get up,\n then it's time to get up, time to get\n up.\n (Sam sniffs the air)\n Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quite a bit of\n business.\n\n He rushes over to the kitchen counter and unsnaps the baby's\n pajamas, revealing a cloth diaper held together with\n promotional", "marches around a table, playing under the adoring gaze of his\n parents.\n\n MAN\n Excuse me, my kid knocked over a coffee,\n could you clean this up?\n\n Sam sees a FAMILY at a table covered with spilled coffee.\n\n MAN (CONT'D)\n I said I need a refill and a towel over\n here.\n\n SAM\n (snapping)\n You need a towel? A refill? A", "glass of\n water? You need more than you already\n have? You have everything -\n (all his fury and frustration)\n Everything. But it's not enough. Take\n my daughter, too!\n\n Sam's out of control, the whole shop stares at him as he\n backs into a shelf of MUGS he so carefully arranged. They\n CRASH onto the floor.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n\n EXT. CARPENTER PORCH", "SAM\n No room. No room.\n\n RITA\n Hey. I lived in the East Village. I\n don't need a lot of room.\n\n SAM\n Sam makes life too hard. Sam makes life\n too hard on everyone.\n\n RITA\n Sam, I can go at least nine more rounds. \n But you gotta let me in. Please Sam. \n Please.\n\n He pulls out one small brick of", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "\n Sam paces, carrying Lucy who screams at the top of her lungs.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - 11:25 P.M.\n\n Sam rocks the CRYING BABY in the hammock. He's exhausted,\n but she's just getting started. He puts another blanket on\n her.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - 1:30 A.M.\n\n Peace. A punch-drunk Sam lays the sleeping baby into the\n ", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", "CASSELL, his neighbor\n on the phone, watching him through her window. She is a\n strange creature with very thick glasses. We sense a\n uniquely profound intelligence behind all that armor.\n\n SAM\n Everything's so tiny, tiny. Tiny. \n Everything. Won't you please come over? \n Help. I need somebody. Won't you\n please please help me.\n\n ANNIE\n You know I can't do that.", "Denny's?\n\n SAM\n But Wednesday night's Denny's,\n Thursday's Video Night, Friday Night\n Karaoke.\n\n Lucy nods, a little deflated.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n How about one more time, just the\n beginning? \"I am Sam, Sam I am...\"\n\n Lucy sighs and closes her eyes against her father's chest.\n\n INT. CLASSROOM - DAY\n\n Lucy", "put you in an\n institution?\n\n SAM\n Only after my mom got sick.\n\n TURNER\n What about your father? Where was he?\n\n SAM\n Gone with the wind when Sam was born.\n\n TURNER\n So, you weren't raised by your mother?\n\n SAM\n I saw her I saw her.\n\n TURNER\n When?\n\n SAM\n ", " I can do it. I know I\n can.\n\n RANDY\n That's not up to me, but I'm telling\n you, I will do everything in my power to\n prevent Lucy from getting hurt again.\n\n Sam hangs his head. A dog barks at Randy.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n Whose dogs are these?\n\n SAM\n Supplemental income supplemental income -\n bathe, walk and", "in the courtroom. \n Rita, stunned and incredulous; Turner and his associate\n smirking at him; Ifty, shaking his head; Robert, his face in\n his hands; Miss Wright, Margaret Brown, the State's Expert,\n almost willing him to fail. Are they right? Are they?\n\n SAM\n No, yes, no.\n\n TURNER\n No what?\n\n SAM\n Let me see let me see let me see.\n\n" ], [ ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", " CONNER\n Are you?\n\n LUCY\n No.\n\n CONNER\n Are you sure?\n\n LUCY\n Yeah.\n\n CONNER\n How do you know?\n\n LUCY\n He told me.\n\n CONNER\n But he's a retard.\n\n LUCY\n Yeah well it takes one to know one!\n\n He crowns her - her eyes shift", "\n LUCY\n I'm sorry, Daddy. It was all my fault.\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy. Don't say that.\n\n LUCY\n I wouldn't want any Daddy but you.\n\n She looks around to see if anybody's writing. NOBODY IS. \n She suddenly screams at them:\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n I said I was sorry! I said I didn't\n ", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", "atively rounds the corner. A small bouquet of\n flowers in his hands when he stops - STARING AHEAD AT --\n\n REVERSE ANGLE\n\n Lucy looking absolutely radiant in a new spring dress. She\n stands on the front porch with RANDY, who wears a red smock\n and is setting up TWO EASELS AND PAINTS. There's a tiny\n chair for Lucy and a tiny chair for her.\n\n CLOSE ON LUCY AND RANDY\n\n The tension in Lucy'", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", "happy hearing\n you read it.\n\n He holds the book open for Lucy. Now Lucy, pushing through a\n mountain of resistance, reads. And reads beautifully.\n\n LUCY\n \"Why are we different and so much\n alike?\"\n\n INT. SCHOOL HALLOWEEN PARADE - AUDITORIUM - DAY\n\n Two children, dressed as Batman, march followed by\n CINDERELLA. We see Lucy dressed in NEWSPAPER - an ORIGAMI", "?\n\n Lucy's in her best dress, being sworn in. One hand in the\n air.\n\n LUCY\n So help me God...\n\n And now CAMERA MOVES AROUND HER AND WE SEE THAT SHE'S HIDING\n HER OTHER HAND BEHIND HER BACK - FINGERS CROSSED.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - LATER\n\n Lucy is on the stand, Turner is cross-examining her.\n\n", ". Jeeters tucked under her arm. Lucy crosses\n the street. HONK! the screeching of tires...\n\n EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER\n\n We're looking at an old fashioned fire escape when suddenly\n we make out a figure climbing higher and higher. It's Lucy. \n We catch glimpses of her and then lose her as the neon sign\n across the street blinks on and off.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM", " Lucy Lucy. What are you doing?! You\n could have really hurt yourself. What\n are you doing?\n\n LUCY\n I couldn't sleep. Daddy, did you know\n that Warren G. Harding was the twenty\n ninth President of the United States?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n LUCY\n Remember - the twenty-ninth President. \n In case the Judge asks.\n\n EXT. RANDY", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "Rita.\n\n LUCY\n I opened my presents. I got the HELP\n album - limited edition.\n\n ON RITA AND SAM\n\n What is she doing?\n\n TURNER\n Oh, I'm sorry. I was confused. I\n thought you didn't open your birthday\n presents because you ran away from your\n own party when your best friend told\n everyone that you were adopted.\n\n LUCY\n ", "LATER\n\n Annie, wearing her dark glasses, is being questioned by Rita.\n\n RITA\n Besides being Lucy's godmother, aren't\n you also Lucy's piano teacher?\n\n ANNIE\n Yes.\n\n RITA\n Lucy's very lucky. Didn't you graduate\n Magna Cum Laud from the Julliard School\n of Music?\n\n ANNIE\n Summa Cum Laud", "s face, Randy straining to connect with\n her.\n\n RANDY\n Your teacher told me you were an artist.\n\n LUCY\n You wear too much perfume. You're\n trying too hard.\n\n RANDY\n I am, aren't I. Maybe you could teach\n me how to paint.\n\n LUCY\n My daddy's coming today. We're going to\n open my birthday presents." ], [ "CASSELL, his neighbor\n on the phone, watching him through her window. She is a\n strange creature with very thick glasses. We sense a\n uniquely profound intelligence behind all that armor.\n\n SAM\n Everything's so tiny, tiny. Tiny. \n Everything. Won't you please come over? \n Help. I need somebody. Won't you\n please please help me.\n\n ANNIE\n You know I can't do that.", "\n SAM\n Annie's not quite ready to go outside\n yet.\n\n RITA\n Okay, we'll just take our time.\n\n INT. PORSCHE - TWO HOURS LATER\n\n It's dark now. Annie is still catatonic. Rita's on the car\n phone, the kind that voice activates and she's yelling.\n\n RITA\n Home! Home! HOME GODDAMN", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", "\n\n SAM\n Annie, it's one day. One hour. Maybe\n only 53 minutes. Lucy needs you.\n (Annie keeps playing)\n You went to college. You can give the\n right answers.\n\n Annie plays even harder. Frustrated, he POUNDS the piano.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n We can't lose her.\n\n ANNIE\n I can't. I'd", " What does her\n mother say?\n\n SAM\n Her mother? Her mother said \"This isn't\n my life. I'm outta here when she comes. \n It didn't mean anything, Sam. It was\n just one night. The two of you. That's\n all I need...\" Annie, what if she's\n sick?\n\n EXT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS\n\n ANNIE has her door open a", "A long pause. Sam watches as Annie visibly tightens.\n\n TURNER (CONT'D)\n Excuse me, Ms. Cassell, I didn't hear\n your response. What about your father?\n\n Annie reaches for her water glass. We see her hand SHAKE. \n It knocks over the glass, shattering it on the floor.\n\n SAM\n Objection! No further questions!\n\n TURNER\n Excuse me, Mr.", "seat. Sam is tucked into\n the shelf in the back. His legs kick Rita in the face with\n every gear shift.\n\n RITA\n Thank you again, Annie. You were truly\n extraordinary.\n\n SAM\n Extraordinary. Truly extraordinary.\n\n Annie doesn't move.\n\n RITA\n Okay okay okay okay. Well, Sam has his\n big day on the stand tomorrow and we\n need to work a little bit so", "rieking. George looks at Sam, this can't go on.\n\t\t\t\n INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - MORNING\n\n Sam, Lucy by his side, has his foot in Annie's door.\n\n SAM\n Please, Annie! She's too big to take to\n work.\n\n ANNIE\n I'm not a baby-sitter. I'm too busy.\n\n LUCY\n Annie, Annie, Annie...\n\n", "crack. Annie feels the baby's\n forehead. Lucy stares up at her, quiet now, fascinated.\n\n ANNIE\n She's overheated and not eating enough. \n How often are you feeding her?\n\n SAM\n A lot, Gerber, Carnation, Gerber.\n\n ANNIE\n What's a lot?\n\n SAM\n Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Three\n squares hot.\n\n", "soap. Gotta\n wonder what their priorities are. \n Nervous people. People who try too\n hard. They smell like fish. But you. \n You smell like milk. Milk and hope.\n\n Lucy leaves the piano and toddles over to Annie's loom and\n plays with a ball yarn.\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n Groceries, Annie.\n\n ANNIE\n Thanks.\n\n Annie opens the door", "'s arms. Lucy bellowing as she\n pulls her down the hallway. Sam is frozen in incalculable\n pain.\n\n EXT. SAM'S APARTMENT HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n We hear \"Fool on the Hill\". We follow a trail of PINK LIQUID\n melting down the hall and come to Annie's door where a pile\n of grocery bags and newspapers sit in a PUDDLE OF STRAWBERRY\n ICE CREAM. Suddenly, the needle SCRAPES LO", "last a year. Brightly\n colored crocheted doilies - Annie's hobby - adorn every\n available surface. The BRIGHTLY COLORED WEB of an\n AGORAPHOBE.\n\n Lucy sits in Annie's lap, getting her first piano lesson. WE\n SEE LUCY'S TINY FINGERS on the keys. In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, it is joined by Annie's hand tapping out one note,\n now two notes, and as the weeks pass", "corner of\n the corridor, huddled on a bench in dark sunglasses, sits\n ANNIE IN A PROFESSIONAL BUSINESS SUIT. Sam runs to her.\n\n SAM\n Annie! I can't believe it!\n\n ANNIE\n (visibly trembling)\n Tell them to take me quickly.\n\n RITA\n Give me one minute with the judge.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - FIFTEEN MINUTES", "cradle as if she were a bomb that might detonate. \n He tiptoes, his FIST raised victoriously - \"YES!\" He doesn't\n get two steps before Lucy wakes screaming. Defeated, he\n picks her up. HELP. The PHONE RINGS. HE PRESSES speaker.\n\n RASPY WOMAN (O.S.)\n What the hell are you doing to that\n baby?!\n\n He looks out his window and sees ANNIE", "Dawson?\n\n SAM\n I said that's enough! I will not allow\n it! Overruled! Overruled!!\n\n Rita doesn't stop him. The Judge hesitates, incredulous,\n then pounds the gavel as the courtroom erupts.\n\t\t\t\n EXT. SAM'S APARTMENT - DUSK\n\n Rita sits in her Porsche with Annie and Sam. Annie is curled\n into a tight ball in the passenger", " ANNIE\n (suspicious)\n Did you teach her that?\n\n SAM\n It was her first word. Very first word.\n\n Annie opens the door, takes Lucy's hand, and pulls her in.\n\n ANNIE\n And people worry you're not smart.\n\n INT. ANNIE'S APARTMENT - ONE WEEK LATER\n\n The apartment looks like a fallout shelter. The kitchen\n contains enough canned goods to", ", her shoulder, her forehead, her eyes,\n her tears. And something ignites between them - something\n confused and scary and deep and filled with a passionate\n ache.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Lovely Rita...\n\n On a bed of newspaper that was once a wall they come\n together, whole again.\n\n EXT. RANDY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY\n\n Sam rounds the corner walking - or rather being walked by SIX\n DOGS, all shapes, all", ".\n\n RITA\n (delighted)\n Excuse me. Now Ms. Cassell, in all the\n time you've known them, have you ever\n questioned Sam's ability as a father?\n\n ANNIE\n Never.\n\n RITA\n Never?\n\n ANNIE\n Never. Look at Lucy. She's strong,\n she's able to display true empathy for\n people,", "LATER\n\n Annie, wearing her dark glasses, is being questioned by Rita.\n\n RITA\n Besides being Lucy's godmother, aren't\n you also Lucy's piano teacher?\n\n ANNIE\n Yes.\n\n RITA\n Lucy's very lucky. Didn't you graduate\n Magna Cum Laud from the Julliard School\n of Music?\n\n ANNIE\n Summa Cum Laud", "ial tone)\n Dorothy? Dorothy? No no no I didn't\n stare at the eczema for five months for -\n\n She takes out her car beeper, clicks it towards the window\n and realizes that they're towing her car!\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sonuvabitch!\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. ANNIE'S APARTMENT - EVENING\n\n Annie is at the piano, lost in a Beethoven concerto." ], [ "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "to pull in the groceries. The ball of\n yarn ROLLS OUT the door and Lucy chases after it. Annie,\n terrified, bellows:\n\n ANNIE (CONT'D)\n Lucy! Come back here! Come back!\n\n It becomes obvious Annie can't walk outside. Trembling:\n\n ANNIE (CONT'D)\n \"Lucy in the sky with diamonds...\"\n\n Hearing the familiar tune, Lucy stops and toddles back. ", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", "atively rounds the corner. A small bouquet of\n flowers in his hands when he stops - STARING AHEAD AT --\n\n REVERSE ANGLE\n\n Lucy looking absolutely radiant in a new spring dress. She\n stands on the front porch with RANDY, who wears a red smock\n and is setting up TWO EASELS AND PAINTS. There's a tiny\n chair for Lucy and a tiny chair for her.\n\n CLOSE ON LUCY AND RANDY\n\n The tension in Lucy'", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "see...\n That's one dollar and 14 cents less than\n five.\n\n Randy watches with a mixture of jealousy and fear as Lucy\n effortlessly enters her and Sam's universe.\n\t\t\t\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DAY\n\n From the window, Randy watches as Sam hands Lucy four leashes\n and the two of them get pulled down the street by the dogs.\n\n INT. LUCY'S BEDROOM - 2 A.M.\n\n Lucy lies in", "'s arms. Lucy bellowing as she\n pulls her down the hallway. Sam is frozen in incalculable\n pain.\n\n EXT. SAM'S APARTMENT HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n We hear \"Fool on the Hill\". We follow a trail of PINK LIQUID\n melting down the hall and come to Annie's door where a pile\n of grocery bags and newspapers sit in a PUDDLE OF STRAWBERRY\n ICE CREAM. Suddenly, the needle SCRAPES LO", " CONNER\n Are you?\n\n LUCY\n No.\n\n CONNER\n Are you sure?\n\n LUCY\n Yeah.\n\n CONNER\n How do you know?\n\n LUCY\n He told me.\n\n CONNER\n But he's a retard.\n\n LUCY\n Yeah well it takes one to know one!\n\n He crowns her - her eyes shift", "I think.\n\n LUCY\n Do you think she'll ever come back?\n\n SAM\n (long pause)\n Paul McCartney lost his mother when he\n was fourteen. John lost his mother\n twice. First when Julie gave John to\n her sister Mimi to raise. And then\n again when Julia was hit by a car. They\n say God picks certain people, special\n people. That's what they say.\n\n Lucy takes", "along and stops on the long seat at the\n back. Sam lies with Lucy spooned into the crook of his arm,\n almost asleep.\n\n SAM\n Almost there, almost there. One more\n round and she'll be down for the night.\n\n We hear the song \"Golden Slumbers\". In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, we see Lucy and Sam in DIFFERENT SLEEPING\n POSITIONS on the bus seat. Gradually, she GROWS in H", "\n BIRD. And behind her, marching more proudly than any child,\n is Sam, dressed as PAUL McCARTNEY, in the black suit era -\n with Beatle boots and guitar strapped to his chest. Sam is\n the only adult participating in the parade.\n\n Music BLASTS over the loudspeaker. Sam begins to dance with\n joyous abandon. Lucy joins him. They dance together\n happily.\n\n Suddenly Lucy becomes aware that her classmates are beginning\n to laugh. She sl", "of Social Services contacted\n us. They shared with us that your\n records show that your intellectual\n capacity is around that of a seven year\n old. Our concern is what happens when\n Lucy turns eight?\n\n PRINCIPAL\n Mr. Dawson, do you understand what Miss\n Wright is trying to tell you about Lucy?\n\n SAM\n No one wanted The Beatles to break up. \n But you can hear it on the White Album. \n They", "cradle as if she were a bomb that might detonate. \n He tiptoes, his FIST raised victoriously - \"YES!\" He doesn't\n get two steps before Lucy wakes screaming. Defeated, he\n picks her up. HELP. The PHONE RINGS. HE PRESSES speaker.\n\n RASPY WOMAN (O.S.)\n What the hell are you doing to that\n baby?!\n\n He looks out his window and sees ANNIE", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "t you just fall asleep, little\n girl?\n (Lucy cries harder)\n Okay, if you say it's time to get up,\n then it's time to get up, time to get\n up.\n (Sam sniffs the air)\n Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quite a bit of\n business.\n\n He rushes over to the kitchen counter and unsnaps the baby's\n pajamas, revealing a cloth diaper held together with\n promotional", "nice\n about himself in so long. Lucy looks into her father's eyes.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Are we winning, Daddy?\n\n Sam shoots ANOTHER look. He doesn't want to lie. Lucy\n catches the look between Sam and Margaret.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Excuse me, time's up.\n\n LUCY\n Please. Just a little more.\n\n MARGARET B", "LATER\n\n Annie, wearing her dark glasses, is being questioned by Rita.\n\n RITA\n Besides being Lucy's godmother, aren't\n you also Lucy's piano teacher?\n\n ANNIE\n Yes.\n\n RITA\n Lucy's very lucky. Didn't you graduate\n Magna Cum Laud from the Julliard School\n of Music?\n\n ANNIE\n Summa Cum Laud" ], [ "s a Century City lawyer - a\n very famous lawyer. Guess what her name\n is? Rita Harrison.\n\n LUCY\n (jaw drops)\n Lovely Rita Meter Maid.\n\n SAM\n Harrison. Just like George.\n\n They move to hug each other. EVERYONE REACHES for their\n pens. Sam pulls back self-consciously. Everyone writes even\n harder.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n ", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", " Rita moves in\n opposite circles around the room. Looking for something. In\n fact, as we watch Rita, we realize that she never stops\n moving. Period. Ten steps ahead of anyone, too much energy,\n too much caffeine, not enough food. If she slowed down a\n beat she might get vulnerable. Can't have that. Can't be\n wrong. Can't really look you in the eye. Can't help it if\n she's smarter than anyone else in the room.", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "Rita.\n\n LUCY\n I opened my presents. I got the HELP\n album - limited edition.\n\n ON RITA AND SAM\n\n What is she doing?\n\n TURNER\n Oh, I'm sorry. I was confused. I\n thought you didn't open your birthday\n presents because you ran away from your\n own party when your best friend told\n everyone that you were adopted.\n\n LUCY\n ", " RITA\n Mr. Dawson, it's a pleasure. Since\n somebody made a mistake, unfortunately\n we only have a little time. Hold all my\n calls unless it's my kid - I'll have a\n double cap.\n\n SAM\n Good choice, very good choice.\n\n RITA\n Can we get you anything to drink?\n\n SAM\n Is it free?\n\n ON RITA\n\n Hmmmm", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "ICE - DAY\n\n A Century City lawyer spins in front of our eyes. It's SAM'S\n POV as he sits in a chair that spins - in the center of RITA\n HARRISON'S lavish, penthouse office. Now we see the\n panoramic of Los Angeles. Now the dots in the Lichtenstein\n on the wall WHIRL PAST US. Now the DOOR SWINGS OPEN AND --\n\n RITA HARRISON and her assistant burst in.", "have dialed the\n wrong number.\n\n INT. RITA'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Rita and Sam walk through the lobby at Rita's Olympic pace. \n She passes the elevator and heads for the stairs.\n\n RITA\n Look, we've got a lot to go over and\n I've got five minutes.\n\n SAM\n (pointing to elevator)\n Rubel Bly Harrison and Williams thirty\n second floor, thirty-two floors up", "You did say \"over the trees\" instead of\n \"over the sea.\" It's hard to remember\n all the words to all the songs. There's\n so many.\n (Rita almost stops)\n you have a child Rita rubel Bly Harrison\n Williams. If they took him away\n wouldn't you hire the fastest talking\n four-named lawyer you could?\n\n RITA\n Yes, I would. I went to college with a\n friend", "Rita's office is crying. He\n walks in and hands her a handkerchief from his pocket.\n\n SAM\n Here. Don't be sad.\n\n She looks at him as if he's from Mars. Rita, now outside her\n office, watches Sam now inside the office.\n\n RITA\n Patricia, I'm in the middle - get him\n out of there -\n\n She quickly gets up but Rita's too impatient and pushes past", " RITA\n That's ridiculous. What happened with\n my car?\n\n PATRICIA\n They --\n\n RITA\n Because it wasn't my fault.\n\n PATRICIA\n I --\n\n RITA\n Thank you, Patricia.\n\n PATRICIA\n This is Mr. Dawson. There was some\n confusion with the temp last week and --\n\n ", ", your friend\n who does this kind of work?\n\n RITA\n (there never was a friend)\n I don't have her number anymore, Sam. \n We lost touch.\n\n SAM\n (devastated)\n Oh, that happens. That happens. People\n lose touch. Will you call me if you\n find it? If you get back in touch?\n\n RITA\n Yes, I'm just in the", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", "LATER\n\n Annie, wearing her dark glasses, is being questioned by Rita.\n\n RITA\n Besides being Lucy's godmother, aren't\n you also Lucy's piano teacher?\n\n ANNIE\n Yes.\n\n RITA\n Lucy's very lucky. Didn't you graduate\n Magna Cum Laud from the Julliard School\n of Music?\n\n ANNIE\n Summa Cum Laud", " like him. He...he...\n\n The woman is distracted by a loud thumping on Rita's glass\n wall - it's SAM. Holding an envelope. Very distressed, as\n the Secretary attempts to corral him back into the lobby.\n\n RITA\n I am right here with you, excuse me.\n (she unlocks door)\n Sam? Didn't I tell you that you have to\n call?\n\n SAM\n I -", "RITA\n (into phone)\n Then keep dialing --\n (to Sam)\n What I mean is that at this point in my\n career, I can't afford to.\n\n SAM\n I earn eight dollars an hour at\n Starbucks. I can pay your hourly rate,\n rate by the hour, hourly --\n\n Rita stands up, ushering him to the door.\n\n RITA\n Mr. Dawson, I'", "STUNNED, she\n slaps him again. HE SLAPS HER. She rips the newspaper wall\n down.\n\n RITA\n You think you got the market cornered on\n human suffering? Well let me tell you\n something about \"People like me.\" \n People like me feel little and lost and\n ugly and dispensable. People like me\n have perfect husbands screwing someone\n far more perfect than me and my son, my\n son hates", "\n her into the office.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam. Sam come with me.\n (to the Couple)\n We're gonna get through this excuse\n us...\n (to Sam)\n Sam this is their turn now. Not yours. \n Theirs. If you leave now you'll never\n make it and you have to make it.\n\n SAM\n Okay okay I know I take the #34 bus and\n", "new suit. Rita stares\n at him astonished. He looks incredibly handsome. Rita,\n attempting to stifle her reaction, turns away from Sam.\n\n SAM\n Bad?\n\n RITA\n No. Very, very good. But your tie's\n crooked.\n\n Rita stands behind Sam with her around him showing him how to\n do his tie properly. Their images are reflected in the\n mirror.\n\n RITA (CONT'" ], [ ",\n be friendly but not familiar. I can be\n your friend.\n\n RITA\n (oddly touched)\n Thank you, Sam.\n\n SAM\n You need to leave your husband.\n\n RITA\n (her armor up again)\n Oh, my marriage isn't so bad.\n\n SAM\n 'Life is very short and there's no time\n for fussing and fighting, my friend.'\n\n ", "\n\n RITA\n I know, but if you -\n\n SAM\n What? Do you want me to go?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that. But do you want to\n go?\n\n SAM\n Where?\n\n RITA\n Nevermind.\n\n SAM\n Fine.\n\n RITA\n Fine.\n\n IFTY, ROB", "\n looking intensely vulnerable, holding her husband's suit.\n\n RITA\n My husband left this when he moved out.\n\n SAM\n Oh, lovely Rita, meter maid.\n\n RITA\n (entering)\n Nice place. I worry. I worry\n sometimes...\n\n SAM\n You worry you did the wrong thing?\n\n RITA\n I worry that I've gotten more out of\n ", " RITA\n How can you say that?\n\n SAM\n Respect is not just about how smart\n someone is. Smart is not just about how\n smart someone is.\n\n RITA\n But what about Lucy? Aren't you being\n selfish? Doesn't she deserve a better\n life? Don't you think she's just\n pretending she's happy to not hurt your\n feelings? \n\n Sam jumps", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "work.\n\n RITA\n How was your day?\n\n DANNY\n You have to work. Go work.\n\n RITA\n No. How was your -\n\n Her CELL PHONE goes off. Rita moves into the hallway to\n answer her phone. Sam moves into the den, sits on the couch,\n the sound of Rita arguing with her husband drifts into the\n room. Sam looks sideways at Danny who remains stonefaced.\n\n ", "ve got to keep earning more\n money for when we get you Lucy back.\n\n SAM\n Lucy doesn't need me anymore. She has a\n new family. She doesn't need me\n anymore.\n\n RITA\n Is that what she said?\n\n SAM\n She didn't have to say it. I may be\n stupid, but I know. I know.\n\n RITA\n Well that's the first", "Rita's office is crying. He\n walks in and hands her a handkerchief from his pocket.\n\n SAM\n Here. Don't be sad.\n\n She looks at him as if he's from Mars. Rita, now outside her\n office, watches Sam now inside the office.\n\n RITA\n Patricia, I'm in the middle - get him\n out of there -\n\n She quickly gets up but Rita's too impatient and pushes past", "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", " like him. He...he...\n\n The woman is distracted by a loud thumping on Rita's glass\n wall - it's SAM. Holding an envelope. Very distressed, as\n the Secretary attempts to corral him back into the lobby.\n\n RITA\n I am right here with you, excuse me.\n (she unlocks door)\n Sam? Didn't I tell you that you have to\n call?\n\n SAM\n I -", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "impatiently.\n\n RITA\n I don't have time for this! You were\n supposed to show up for your first\n evaluation. And I leave work early to\n get there and where the hell are you?! \n Open the door! Sam! Open the goddamn\n door!\n (nothing)\n Alright. If you don't care enough to\n open the goddamn door I'm outta here! \n I've", "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "\n her into the office.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam. Sam come with me.\n (to the Couple)\n We're gonna get through this excuse\n us...\n (to Sam)\n Sam this is their turn now. Not yours. \n Theirs. If you leave now you'll never\n make it and you have to make it.\n\n SAM\n Okay okay I know I take the #34 bus and\n", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", "He always made a point of feeding her\n breakfast when \"Bewitched\" was on and\n lunch when \"Jeopardy\" was on so she'd be\n smart. Is that Wonderbra you're\n wearing? Because you look wonderful.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. RITA'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Robert sits across from Rita, who records him.\n\n RITA\n How long have you and Sam - \n\n ROB", " SAM\n You eat too fast. Come watch the movie.\n\n RITA\n It's getting late. We have to get to\n work.\n (handing him a suit)\n This is my husband's. He won't notice. \n He's got ten more just like it. Try it\n on.\n\n INT. RITA'S LIBRARY - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Sam comes out of the bathroom in the", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n " ], [ "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", "time Margaret avoids looking at her. Lucy runs to Rita\n and throws her arms around her waist.\n\n LUCY\n Please don't fire us. It was all my\n idea. Please don't. Please. Please.\n\n Rita is disarmed. She's moved and not used to being moved.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n BAILIFF\n ...the whole truth, and nothing but the\n truth, so help you God", " Except Sam. \n Who continues to stand until Rita pulls him down. Now we\n see:\n\n Ifty, Robert, Brad - and Brad's MOTHER, who sits several\n seats behind Brad knitting. Robert holds up a handmade sign\n from the back of the courtroom \"Free Lucy Dawson\".\n\n INT. COURTROOM - ONE HOUR LATER\n\n Turner, the prosecuting attorney, examines his first witness. \n He's disheveled, but don't let the rum", "\n you need from your father. Isn't that\n right, Lucy?\n\n A LONG SILENCE. She stares at Turner defiantly.\n\n LUCY\n \"All you need is love.\"\n\n INT. COURTROOM CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n WE HEAR THAT SONG as Sam and Rita walk out of the courtroom. \n Rita is breaking pieces off a candy bar she has stuffed in\n her purse. They see Lucy running down the corridor", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "on the bench. She searches Sam's face for\n the verdict. The minute she sees sorrow in his eyes, she\n knows. She runs to him, gluing herself to his chest.\n\n LUCY\n No Daddy! No Daddy! No Daddy!\n\n In a SERIES OF WORDLESS DISSOLVES, they hold each other in\n the hallway through the entire forty five minute visit. The\n only thing moving is the hands of a large wall clock in the\n background. P", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", "?\n\n Lucy's in her best dress, being sworn in. One hand in the\n air.\n\n LUCY\n So help me God...\n\n And now CAMERA MOVES AROUND HER AND WE SEE THAT SHE'S HIDING\n HER OTHER HAND BEHIND HER BACK - FINGERS CROSSED.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - LATER\n\n Lucy is on the stand, Turner is cross-examining her.\n\n", " Let it stop! No more! \n No more! No more!\n\n The Judge watches Sam, sad and stunned. The verdict is\n obvious. Sam has passed judgement on himself.\n\n EXT. CHILD AND FAMILY PROTECTIVE SERVICES - HALLWAY\n\n Sam, broken, walks down the long hallway with Rita toward\n Margaret Brown's office. Suddenly, Rita stops as she and Sam\n both see -\n\n LUCY\n\n Sitting, hopeful", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "court will decide what's in Lucy's best\n interest.\n\n Sam watches the cop's legs meet Lucy's under the curtain. \n Suddenly, Sam screams from the deepest core of his being.\n\n SAM\n Run, Lucy, run!\n\n We see LUCY'S FEET KICK the COP'S LEGS and wrestle out of his\n grasp. She flies out the booth, holding that balloon. She\n runs down the street, the balloon soaring into the sky -", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", "ias to Sam's windowsill.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in a blanket being carried by Sam toward Randy's house.\n\n INT. LUCY'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Until FINALLY, we see Lucy in her hammock at Randy's house\n looking out the windows, which have now been completely\n covered with BARS. Her room is filled with origami birds\n from the 100 Denny's napkins, her birthday gift. Lucy gets\n", "strong\n arms. For a moment they BOTH HOLD LUCY between them in the\n most unique embrace. Randy finally lets go and struggles to\n say goodbye.\n\n RANDY\n Goodnight. I'll see you in court. Save\n me a seat...on your side.\n\n Randy walks away. Stunned, Sam watches her, holding Lucy in\n his arms. Then, from a very brave place:\n\n SAM\n Randy! If I", "be more room for Lucy as she grows\n up.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n All of that is well and good but the\n fact that Mr. Dawson quite his job,\n missed his hearing, and did not even\n show up for his visits with his\n daughter...\n\n RITA\n The fact that my client went through\n profound depression is the most natural\n reaction any parent could have.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n But", "\n LUCY\n I'm sorry, Daddy. It was all my fault.\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy. Don't say that.\n\n LUCY\n I wouldn't want any Daddy but you.\n\n She looks around to see if anybody's writing. NOBODY IS. \n She suddenly screams at them:\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n I said I was sorry! I said I didn't\n ", "ained, Margaret reaches for Lucy.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n C'mon, Lucy. It's time to say goodbye.\n\n LUCY\n NOOOO! Don't let go don't let go don't\n let go -\n\n Sam's tears mix with Lucy's as they sob, clinging to each\n other. With such fierce love; a parent and a child.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Don't", " CONNER\n Are you?\n\n LUCY\n No.\n\n CONNER\n Are you sure?\n\n LUCY\n Yeah.\n\n CONNER\n How do you know?\n\n LUCY\n He told me.\n\n CONNER\n But he's a retard.\n\n LUCY\n Yeah well it takes one to know one!\n\n He crowns her - her eyes shift" ], [ ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", "URNER\n And do you know that means if you lie\n you could be in serious trouble?\n\n LUCY\n I do.\n\n TURNER\n So now that you and I have agreed to\n tell the truth, where did you sleep last\n night?\n\n Rita glares at Margaret. Thanks a lot.\n\n LUCY\n In my bed at the Foster home.\n\n TURNER\n All right, Lucy. If you", "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "ara's Mommy lost her case and Tamara\n hasn't seen her in six years. She's had\n five different mommies and one of them\n hit her.\n\n SAM\n I won't let that happen.\n\n LUCY\n That's what her real mommy said. And\n now they won't even let her talk to her.\n\n Sam reels with confusion. Lucy buries herself in his chest.\n\n LUCY", "\n\n TURNER\n When you were Lucy's age, were you\n living at home?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Were you living with your mother and\n father?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Well then where were you living?\n\n SAM\n (very quietly)\n In an institution.\n\n TURNER\n So your parents", "to Sam in the kitchen, for the\n first time a bit uneasily.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Sam's reading Lucy her homework book.\n\n SAM\n \"They perched in sisisi...\"\n\n LUCY\n \"Silence.\"\n\n SAM\n \"...silence for a long time.\" Boy. \n Your teacher chose a hard book this\n time. \"How can we be so difdifd", " out of her hammock and tiptoes across her room - quietly\n opening the door.\n\n INT. CARPENTER HOUSE - STAIRS TO LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n We follow her through the dark house as she creeps down the\n stairs. She gets to the front door. It's been DEAD BOLTED\n where she cannot reach it. From the darkness we hear --\n\n RANDY\n (tenderly)\n Lucy. Come here.\n\n", "ias to Sam's windowsill.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in a blanket being carried by Sam toward Randy's house.\n\n INT. LUCY'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Until FINALLY, we see Lucy in her hammock at Randy's house\n looking out the windows, which have now been completely\n covered with BARS. Her room is filled with origami birds\n from the 100 Denny's napkins, her birthday gift. Lucy gets\n", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "happy hearing\n you read it.\n\n He holds the book open for Lucy. Now Lucy, pushing through a\n mountain of resistance, reads. And reads beautifully.\n\n LUCY\n \"Why are we different and so much\n alike?\"\n\n INT. SCHOOL HALLOWEEN PARADE - AUDITORIUM - DAY\n\n Two children, dressed as Batman, march followed by\n CINDERELLA. We see Lucy dressed in NEWSPAPER - an ORIGAMI", "once again he had no idea how his\n behavior during that depression impacted\n on his daughter.\n\n RITA\n In these next months, Mr. Dawson will be\n expanding his support system to include\n Social Service programs, tutors --\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n It's too late! The foster family is\n petitioning the court for sole custody\n of Lucy and I fully support their\n request.\n\n Sam turns to Rita. This can", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", " responsibility. Lucy feels she has to\n take care of her father. Although at\n her birthday party her true feelings\n about her father were revealed.\n\n RITA\n Objection. \"True feelings revealed\"?!\n\n TURNER\n The state is paying Miss Geller for her\n opinions -\n\n RITA\n Then every child who rages because they\n didn't get to stay up for that extra\n hour of TV -\n\n ", "last a year. Brightly\n colored crocheted doilies - Annie's hobby - adorn every\n available surface. The BRIGHTLY COLORED WEB of an\n AGORAPHOBE.\n\n Lucy sits in Annie's lap, getting her first piano lesson. WE\n SEE LUCY'S TINY FINGERS on the keys. In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, it is joined by Annie's hand tapping out one note,\n now two notes, and as the weeks pass", "along and stops on the long seat at the\n back. Sam lies with Lucy spooned into the crook of his arm,\n almost asleep.\n\n SAM\n Almost there, almost there. One more\n round and she'll be down for the night.\n\n We hear the song \"Golden Slumbers\". In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, we see Lucy and Sam in DIFFERENT SLEEPING\n POSITIONS on the bus seat. Gradually, she GROWS in H" ], [ "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", "once again he had no idea how his\n behavior during that depression impacted\n on his daughter.\n\n RITA\n In these next months, Mr. Dawson will be\n expanding his support system to include\n Social Service programs, tutors --\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n It's too late! The foster family is\n petitioning the court for sole custody\n of Lucy and I fully support their\n request.\n\n Sam turns to Rita. This can", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "ara's Mommy lost her case and Tamara\n hasn't seen her in six years. She's had\n five different mommies and one of them\n hit her.\n\n SAM\n I won't let that happen.\n\n LUCY\n That's what her real mommy said. And\n now they won't even let her talk to her.\n\n Sam reels with confusion. Lucy buries herself in his chest.\n\n LUCY", "OM - LATER\n\n Sam, on the stand, talks a mile a minute from the coffee.\n\n RITA\n How will you be able to pay for private\n tutoring?\n\n SAM\n There's a free program at the YMCA. \n Lucy can go there.\n\n RITA\n But don't you ever think it would be\n better for Lucy if she lived with a\n permanent foster family and you could\n visit whenever you wanted", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", "stupid thing I've\n ever heard you say.\n\n Sam looks at her through the window. A CHINK in the wall.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam, Sam you can get her back. The\n court favors reunification. The only\n thing that can block you is if the\n foster family petitions to adopt. And\n from what I've heard, Lucy's making\n their life miserable - that's our girl. \n Sam, fight", "let them Daddy don't let them! \n Don't ever let me go!\n\n He can't let her go. That he can't do. Margaret, steel\n herself, turns to Rita, no matter how many times she's done\n this.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Please help me.\n\n Rita, aching from a place she thought she buried long ago,\n shakes her head, NO. Now, Margaret literally has to wrench\n Lucy away from her father", "be more room for Lucy as she grows\n up.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n All of that is well and good but the\n fact that Mr. Dawson quite his job,\n missed his hearing, and did not even\n show up for his visits with his\n daughter...\n\n RITA\n The fact that my client went through\n profound depression is the most natural\n reaction any parent could have.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n But", "Is that Lucy? Annie's supposed to call\n and warn us. Shhhh, everyone.\n\n Brad hits the lights. Sam OPENS THE DOOR and everyone yells\n \"SURPRISE!\" But instead of Lucy, it's the Social Worker.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n I don't know if you remember me. I'm\n Margaret Brown from Children's Social\n Services. We met at the police station.\n\n SAM\n ", "! Happy Birthday!\n\n Lucy stands frozen, holding a red balloon.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy?!\n\n CONNER\n You don't have to call him \"Daddy\".\n (in Sam's face)\n She says you're not her real father,\n anyway. She's adopted!\n\n Humiliated, Lucy RUNS AWAY! The Social Worker watches,\n profoundly concerned, and reaches for her cellular phone.\n\n EXT", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", " Let it stop! No more! \n No more! No more!\n\n The Judge watches Sam, sad and stunned. The verdict is\n obvious. Sam has passed judgement on himself.\n\n EXT. CHILD AND FAMILY PROTECTIVE SERVICES - HALLWAY\n\n Sam, broken, walks down the long hallway with Rita toward\n Margaret Brown's office. Suddenly, Rita stops as she and Sam\n both see -\n\n LUCY\n\n Sitting, hopeful", "of Social Services contacted\n us. They shared with us that your\n records show that your intellectual\n capacity is around that of a seven year\n old. Our concern is what happens when\n Lucy turns eight?\n\n PRINCIPAL\n Mr. Dawson, do you understand what Miss\n Wright is trying to tell you about Lucy?\n\n SAM\n No one wanted The Beatles to break up. \n But you can hear it on the White Album. \n They", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", " TURNER\n Objection your honor -\n\n Sam TUGS at Rita's sleeve. She ignores it.\n\n RITA\n ...in fact any child who said they hated\n their parents because they didn't want\n to take a bath would be a prime\n candidate for Foster Care.\n\n TURNER\n Objection.\n\n SAM\n I think they want you to stop.\n\n RITA\n Really?!", "ITA\n It's not illegal. It's very\n complicated. When a strong foster\n parent lobbies for a child it changes\n the equation.\n\n ROBERT\n They're reaching right through Sam as if\n he doesn't exist. As if he's a ghost.\n\n RITA\n There's one option we've never talked\n about, Sam. \n (very carefully)\n I know what you went through the", " responsibility. Lucy feels she has to\n take care of her father. Although at\n her birthday party her true feelings\n about her father were revealed.\n\n RITA\n Objection. \"True feelings revealed\"?!\n\n TURNER\n The state is paying Miss Geller for her\n opinions -\n\n RITA\n Then every child who rages because they\n didn't get to stay up for that extra\n hour of TV -\n\n ", "\n TURNER\n The question is: what makes you think\n you can be a parent? Your background? \n Your IQ? Your friends who can't even\n testify for you?\n\n RITA\n Objection -\n\n SAM\n My friends -\n\n RITA\n Objection -\n\n SAM\n My friends love Lucy even if Rita\n thought they weren't smart enough to\n ", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC" ], [ "YLA THARP DANCE.\n\n ON LUCY\n\n She does it right back at him. Their secret code. The code\n that will bind them for the rest of their lives.\n\n ON THE CROWD AND PLAYERS\n\n All watching. What the hell was that? Sam blows his\n whistle.\n\n SAM\n Play ball! Play ball!\n\n The game heats up. Lucy's team gets the ball and is headed\n toward the goal. Sam is", "ping their balloons as they march\n victoriously down the street. We MOVE IN on Lucy's little\n brown shoes skipping with joy and --\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n EXT. SCHOOL FIELD - DAY\n\n Those same little shoes in the midst of a mass of black\n soccer cleats. We move up and see Lucy in the middle of a\n fierce kids soccer game.\n\n Score's tied. The ball comes to Lucy. She kicks and misses. \n", " of it now! You've got them scared now!\n\n Lucy's bursting with confidence, plows toward the ball and\n NAILS IT! The ball goes flying. The parents in the stand\n are completely baffled! Sam is completely ecstatic!\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n L-u-c-y! That's our battlecry!\n\n The ball heads into the goal, just passing the goalie,\n Conner. Sam runs to embrace Lucy when he he", " From the sidelines we hear:\n\n SAM\n Beautiful kick! Very close!\n\n Lucy looks up at her dad proudly. The ball comes again. \n Nobody could miss this one. But Lucy does.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Thatta girl! Thatta girl! They're\n getting scared now!\n\n The game continues. The GOALIE'S FATHER, DUNCAN RHODES,\n handsome, commanding and dressed in a", "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", "happy hearing\n you read it.\n\n He holds the book open for Lucy. Now Lucy, pushing through a\n mountain of resistance, reads. And reads beautifully.\n\n LUCY\n \"Why are we different and so much\n alike?\"\n\n INT. SCHOOL HALLOWEEN PARADE - AUDITORIUM - DAY\n\n Two children, dressed as Batman, march followed by\n CINDERELLA. We see Lucy dressed in NEWSPAPER - an ORIGAMI", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "nice\n about himself in so long. Lucy looks into her father's eyes.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Are we winning, Daddy?\n\n Sam shoots ANOTHER look. He doesn't want to lie. Lucy\n catches the look between Sam and Margaret.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Excuse me, time's up.\n\n LUCY\n Please. Just a little more.\n\n MARGARET B", " Penalty! Repeat! Rules broken! \n Penalty!\n\n RITA (O.S.)\n Penalty?! Sue him! Kick his ass outta\n the game!\n\n It's RITA! With Danny - hollering from the stands.\n\n ON LUCY\n\n Looks over at her father. Sam does every coaching gesture,\n and referee hand signal from every sport known to man. It\n looks like a bizarre TW", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "\n Annie sweeps her up, relieved and we --\n\n INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT\n\n Sam on stage, with Ifty and Brad as his back-up singers,\n continuing the song in the oddest, most heartfelt version to\n Lucy who sits on Robert's lap and in heaven.\n\n EXT. PARK - DAY\n\n A beautiful blue sky. And \"Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds\"\n continues as Lucy's THREE YEAR OLD laughing face SWINGS INTO\n", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "along and stops on the long seat at the\n back. Sam lies with Lucy spooned into the crook of his arm,\n almost asleep.\n\n SAM\n Almost there, almost there. One more\n round and she'll be down for the night.\n\n We hear the song \"Golden Slumbers\". In a SERIES OF\n DISSOLVES, we see Lucy and Sam in DIFFERENT SLEEPING\n POSITIONS on the bus seat. Gradually, she GROWS in H", "atively rounds the corner. A small bouquet of\n flowers in his hands when he stops - STARING AHEAD AT --\n\n REVERSE ANGLE\n\n Lucy looking absolutely radiant in a new spring dress. She\n stands on the front porch with RANDY, who wears a red smock\n and is setting up TWO EASELS AND PAINTS. There's a tiny\n chair for Lucy and a tiny chair for her.\n\n CLOSE ON LUCY AND RANDY\n\n The tension in Lucy'", " I love you.\n\n LUCY\n My name isn't Lucy anymore, it's\n Michelle.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. BUS - NIGHT\n\n Lucy sleeps cuddled close to Sam, who is wide awake, as he\n gazes out at the passing highway, far from home. We hear the\n song \"Michelle\".\n\n EXT. PARK - 4 A.M.\n\n Sam, totally disoriented, walks in circles around the plastic\n tunnels", "her! Phillip, you get her!\n\n ROBERT\n I saw that! You gave him a secret\n signal! Didn't you?\n\n IFTY\n Keep both eyes on the ball, Lucy - balls\n are round - on sale at Kmart. The earth\n is a ball, too...\n\n Phillip steps in front of Lucy and shoves her as hard as he\n can. Sam blows his whistle repeatedly and races over.\n\n SAM\n", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "ias to Sam's windowsill.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in a blanket being carried by Sam toward Randy's house.\n\n INT. LUCY'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Until FINALLY, we see Lucy in her hammock at Randy's house\n looking out the windows, which have now been completely\n covered with BARS. Her room is filled with origami birds\n from the 100 Denny's napkins, her birthday gift. Lucy gets\n", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. " ], [ "CASSELL, his neighbor\n on the phone, watching him through her window. She is a\n strange creature with very thick glasses. We sense a\n uniquely profound intelligence behind all that armor.\n\n SAM\n Everything's so tiny, tiny. Tiny. \n Everything. Won't you please come over? \n Help. I need somebody. Won't you\n please please help me.\n\n ANNIE\n You know I can't do that.", "A'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n The POUNDING CONTINUES as we see Rita standing in the\n doorway, watching her sleeping child. This stranger that\n she's raised. She moves to cover him, this tough little boy,\n when she sees POOH BEAR tucked under his arm. She tucks them\n both in, tenderly.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DAY\n\n Saturday in idyllic suburbia. Sam, directions and a map in\n his hands, tent", ", her shoulder, her forehead, her eyes,\n her tears. And something ignites between them - something\n confused and scary and deep and filled with a passionate\n ache.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Lovely Rita...\n\n On a bed of newspaper that was once a wall they come\n together, whole again.\n\n EXT. RANDY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY\n\n Sam rounds the corner walking - or rather being walked by SIX\n DOGS, all shapes, all", ". Jeeters tucked under her arm. Lucy crosses\n the street. HONK! the screeching of tires...\n\n EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER\n\n We're looking at an old fashioned fire escape when suddenly\n we make out a figure climbing higher and higher. It's Lucy. \n We catch glimpses of her and then lose her as the neon sign\n across the street blinks on and off.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM", " From the sidelines we hear:\n\n SAM\n Beautiful kick! Very close!\n\n Lucy looks up at her dad proudly. The ball comes again. \n Nobody could miss this one. But Lucy does.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Thatta girl! Thatta girl! They're\n getting scared now!\n\n The game continues. The GOALIE'S FATHER, DUNCAN RHODES,\n handsome, commanding and dressed in a", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", "to see you, Sam.\n\n She places the BABY into SAM'S ARMS. Suddenly Sam's whole\n body RELAXES and becomes very still. He looks to Rebecca,\n but she has turned away. He meets Gertie's eyes. Then in\n quiet amazement:\n\n SAM\n This is it.\n\n GERTIE\n What's her name?\n\n SAM\n (looks at clock)\n Let me see", "ruined my practice, I've alienated\n my colleagues - I sent my kid off on a\n fishing trip with his father so I could\n work with you and you won't open your\n goddman door for me?! Fine! THAT'S IT! \n I've had enough!\n\n She starts down the hall when suddenly she turns and - with\n the mastery of a karate black belt - RUNS AND KICKS the door\n down.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT -", "SAM\n No room. No room.\n\n RITA\n Hey. I lived in the East Village. I\n don't need a lot of room.\n\n SAM\n Sam makes life too hard. Sam makes life\n too hard on everyone.\n\n RITA\n Sam, I can go at least nine more rounds. \n But you gotta let me in. Please Sam. \n Please.\n\n He pulls out one small brick of", " Sam, still in his white apron, walks down the busy street. \n He has a fast, loping gait that doesn't slow or hesitate for\n anyone. A COUPLE argue on the sidewalk. Sam WALKS RIGHT\n BETWEEN THEM.\n\n SAM\n It's time. It's time.\n\n Sam keeps moving, he crosses the street without stopping. \n Traffic SCREECHES to a HALT! Cars HONK, a taxi driver YEL", "to Sam in the kitchen, for the\n first time a bit uneasily.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Sam's reading Lucy her homework book.\n\n SAM\n \"They perched in sisisi...\"\n\n LUCY\n \"Silence.\"\n\n SAM\n \"...silence for a long time.\" Boy. \n Your teacher chose a hard book this\n time. \"How can we be so difdifd", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "glass of\n water? You need more than you already\n have? You have everything -\n (all his fury and frustration)\n Everything. But it's not enough. Take\n my daughter, too!\n\n Sam's out of control, the whole shop stares at him as he\n backs into a shelf of MUGS he so carefully arranged. They\n CRASH onto the floor.\n\n SMASH CUT TO:\n\n EXT. CARPENTER PORCH", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "t you just fall asleep, little\n girl?\n (Lucy cries harder)\n Okay, if you say it's time to get up,\n then it's time to get up, time to get\n up.\n (Sam sniffs the air)\n Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quite a bit of\n business.\n\n He rushes over to the kitchen counter and unsnaps the baby's\n pajamas, revealing a cloth diaper held together with\n promotional", "and jungle gym. A flashlight shines in Sam's face.\n\n COP\n Hey, buddy. No loitering. Move it.\n\n SAM\n Not yet not yet not yet.\n\n COP\n You want me to get a black and white\n down here?\n\n He moves toward Sam. SUDDENLY THE SPRINKLER SYSTEM goes on. \n The cop backs off, but Sam doesn't move, standing in the\n middle of the", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "EEKS LATER - DAY\n\n Sam sits in a dark corner; maniacally folding newspaper into\n an odd origami pattern. There's a knock at the door - Sam\n doesn't move, he just continues folding his paper.\n\n RITA (O.S.)\n Sam it's me! Open up!\n\n He doesn't answer it, just methodically folds.\n\n EXT. SAM'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS\n\n Rita stands there", " Give me - I'll take Lucy.\n\n SAM\n Maybe if you rub her tummy twenty-three\n times, tell her two stories and give her\n half a Denny's blueberry muffin and a\n third of a glass of milk she'll sleep. \n Good night.\n\n Randy and BILL, her husband, watch as Sam turns and walks\n purposely down the walkway - his houseslippers scuffling on\n the quiet street.\n\n SERIES", "s his tie.\n\n RITA\n Hello, Sam. Mr. Dawson. Sam. Dawson.\n\n SAM\n Hello, lawyer.\n\n They almost shake hands - realize that means touching each\n other and don't. Rita motions toward the door.\n\n RITA\n Shall we?\n\n SAM\n No. We already did. Don't tell\n anybody.\n\n They nervously walk through the door" ], [ "\n BIRD. And behind her, marching more proudly than any child,\n is Sam, dressed as PAUL McCARTNEY, in the black suit era -\n with Beatle boots and guitar strapped to his chest. Sam is\n the only adult participating in the parade.\n\n Music BLASTS over the loudspeaker. Sam begins to dance with\n joyous abandon. Lucy joins him. They dance together\n happily.\n\n Suddenly Lucy becomes aware that her classmates are beginning\n to laugh. She sl", "happy hearing\n you read it.\n\n He holds the book open for Lucy. Now Lucy, pushing through a\n mountain of resistance, reads. And reads beautifully.\n\n LUCY\n \"Why are we different and so much\n alike?\"\n\n INT. SCHOOL HALLOWEEN PARADE - AUDITORIUM - DAY\n\n Two children, dressed as Batman, march followed by\n CINDERELLA. We see Lucy dressed in NEWSPAPER - an ORIGAMI", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", "of Social Services contacted\n us. They shared with us that your\n records show that your intellectual\n capacity is around that of a seven year\n old. Our concern is what happens when\n Lucy turns eight?\n\n PRINCIPAL\n Mr. Dawson, do you understand what Miss\n Wright is trying to tell you about Lucy?\n\n SAM\n No one wanted The Beatles to break up. \n But you can hear it on the White Album. \n They", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down", "ping their balloons as they march\n victoriously down the street. We MOVE IN on Lucy's little\n brown shoes skipping with joy and --\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n EXT. SCHOOL FIELD - DAY\n\n Those same little shoes in the midst of a mass of black\n soccer cleats. We move up and see Lucy in the middle of a\n fierce kids soccer game.\n\n Score's tied. The ball comes to Lucy. She kicks and misses. \n", "draws a picture while everyone reads aloud from\n \"STELLALUNA\".\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy, your turn. Start where Sara left\n off...Lucy?\n\n LUCY\n I can't.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Sure you can.\n\n LUCY\n \"They perched in sisisisi...\"\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Silence.\n\n LUCY\n (", "I never said that; why would I say that?\n\n TURNER\n Why would your friends say it if you\n hadn't said it?\n\n LUCY\n Kids lie all the time.\n\n Next to her skirt, we see her fingers are crossed so hard\n they're practically turning purple.\n\n TURNER\n May I remind you Lucy that you're under\n oath?\n\n LUCY\n You may.\n\n T", "\n LUCY\n I'm sorry, Daddy. It was all my fault.\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy. Don't say that.\n\n LUCY\n I wouldn't want any Daddy but you.\n\n She looks around to see if anybody's writing. NOBODY IS. \n She suddenly screams at them:\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n I said I was sorry! I said I didn't\n ", "to pull in the groceries. The ball of\n yarn ROLLS OUT the door and Lucy chases after it. Annie,\n terrified, bellows:\n\n ANNIE (CONT'D)\n Lucy! Come back here! Come back!\n\n It becomes obvious Annie can't walk outside. Trembling:\n\n ANNIE (CONT'D)\n \"Lucy in the sky with diamonds...\"\n\n Hearing the familiar tune, Lucy stops and toddles back. ", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", "LUCY\n You're not like the other daddies.\n\n SAM\n I'm not am I. I'm sorry.\n\n LUCY\n Don't be sorry. I'm lucky. Nobody\n else's daddy ever comes to the park.\n\n ON SAM'S FACE\n\n Filled with relief. Bursting with love.\n\n SAM\n We are very lucky, aren't we?\n\n Grace", "Christmas.\n\n BRAD\n No brown clodhoppers. Everyone will\n make fun of her.\n\n SAM\n NO ONE will make fun of Lucy.\n\n ROBERT\n She might be stupid.\n\n IFTY\n No she's not --\n\n ROBERT\n Did they test her?\n\n BRAD\n You don't know for sure.\n\n SAM\n Yes I do.", "if...\"\n\n LUCY\n \"Different.\"\n\n Sam glances up at Lucy self-consciously. Lucy grabs the book\n from Sam, tosses it on the pile and picks up another.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n I don't like that book - let's read\n \"Green Eggs and Ham\".\n\n Relieved, Sam plunges into the book, which is more memorized\n than read.\n\n SAM\n \"", " CONNER\n Are you?\n\n LUCY\n No.\n\n CONNER\n Are you sure?\n\n LUCY\n Yeah.\n\n CONNER\n How do you know?\n\n LUCY\n He told me.\n\n CONNER\n But he's a retard.\n\n LUCY\n Yeah well it takes one to know one!\n\n He crowns her - her eyes shift", "don't believe you.\n\n LUCY\n Are you calling me a liar?\n\n SAM\n Yes. Now read the word.\n\n LUCY\n (crying)\n No...I'm stupid.\n\n SAM\n No you're not.\n\n LUCY\n I don't want to read it if you can't.\n\n SAM\n It makes me happy. I'm", " responsibility. Lucy feels she has to\n take care of her father. Although at\n her birthday party her true feelings\n about her father were revealed.\n\n RITA\n Objection. \"True feelings revealed\"?!\n\n TURNER\n The state is paying Miss Geller for her\n opinions -\n\n RITA\n Then every child who rages because they\n didn't get to stay up for that extra\n hour of TV -\n\n ", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr" ], [ "this relationship than you.\n\n SAM\n No no no. I'm the lucky one. I have\n the lawyer that never loses.\n\n RITA\n (covering)\n That's me...okay, let me see, let me\n see, let me see.\n (pulls out notes)\n They're going to put Bill and Randy on\n the stand first and then you.\n\n SAM\n Them first,", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", "s his tie.\n\n RITA\n Hello, Sam. Mr. Dawson. Sam. Dawson.\n\n SAM\n Hello, lawyer.\n\n They almost shake hands - realize that means touching each\n other and don't. Rita motions toward the door.\n\n RITA\n Shall we?\n\n SAM\n No. We already did. Don't tell\n anybody.\n\n They nervously walk through the door", "from going back to Meryl Streep,\n his lawyer said it was going to cost him\n fifteen thousand dollars - and that's if\n we win!\n\n SAM\n Fifteen thousand dollars!\n\n BRAD\n Don't worry about money now. Get the\n best. Century City - Here: \"Rubel Bly\n Harrison and Williams\".\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. RITA HARRISON'S CENTURY CITY OFF", "in the courtroom. \n Rita, stunned and incredulous; Turner and his associate\n smirking at him; Ifty, shaking his head; Robert, his face in\n his hands; Miss Wright, Margaret Brown, the State's Expert,\n almost willing him to fail. Are they right? Are they?\n\n SAM\n No, yes, no.\n\n TURNER\n No what?\n\n SAM\n Let me see let me see let me see.\n\n", ".\n\n BRAD\n Here - look at this - \"Sebastion\n Gibson.\" He can do anything. \n Pedestrians. Back and neck. Uninsured\n Motorist. Dog attacks.\n\n SAM\n The Social Worker said it's a custody\n case.\n\n ROBERT\n Then get a divorce lawyer.\n\n IFTY\n When Dustin Hoffman was trying to keep\n Billy", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "IER defiantly.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Fourteen thirty three. That's 5 ones, 2\n quarters and 16 cents less than twenty.\n\n He slowly counts his money, takes his tray and walks away. \n Rita watches him, with a trace of remorse and a hint of\n admiration.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n DR. DONOVAN, an attractive soft-spoken woman is on the stand. \n R", "an extremely important\n day to Mr. Dawson.\n\n At THAT MOMENT, Sam bursts through the doors. Suit stained,\n hair sticky with frappuccino. Rita's jaw drops.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Your Honor, may I have a moment with my\n client?\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Make it brief, Ms. Harrison.\n\n Rita heads towards Sam. Up close, he looks even worse. \n", "hour, Sam barrels down the street\n out of his mind. Cars are jammed up. He walks over them, a\n man possessed.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Everyone is in their places, waiting.\n\n TURNER\n Your Honor, if the defendant doesn't\n have enough interest in his daughter to\n even show up -\n\n RITA\n Your Honor, I'm sure he'll be here any\n moment. This is", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", "who does these kinds of cases. \n Leave your number. I'll see if she can\n help you.\n\n PATRICIA\n (through your phone)\n Your therapist on Line 1.\n\n RITA\n Tell him you can't find me.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n Sam is face to face with George.\n\n SAM\n I'm ready.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "do understand, that\n since I am a court appointed\n psychologist, the traditional client\n therapist confidentiality will be\n waived.\n (Sam looks confused)\n Mr. Dawson, do you understand that the\n confidentiality will be waived?\n\n Sam nods nervously and waves. With that she begins.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Sam, Ifty, Brad and Robert hover over a used answering\n machine. Ifty pours over the instructions.", " SAM\n Thursday? Today is Monday, Mrs. Brown. \n That's three days away. That's too\n long. She can't sleep without Mr.\n Jeeters. Well if you're not available\n until Thursday, maybe I could see her\n without you there...\n maybe the Judge made a mistake - maybe\n he doesn't know that for seven years I\n played with her without you there...No\n Mrs. Brown, I'm not trying", "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", "you at some\n luncheon. But I'm here everyday.\n (gavel POUNDS AGAIN)\n You win, you're out the door. \n But guess who I see come back? The kid. \n Most of the time, in less than a year. \n Only now it's too late. So you're\n right. I'm real sensitive. You can't\n even touch that area.\n\n ON SAM\n\n Devast" ], [ "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", " RITA\n Mr. Dawson, it's a pleasure. Since\n somebody made a mistake, unfortunately\n we only have a little time. Hold all my\n calls unless it's my kid - I'll have a\n double cap.\n\n SAM\n Good choice, very good choice.\n\n RITA\n Can we get you anything to drink?\n\n SAM\n Is it free?\n\n ON RITA\n\n Hmmmm", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", "'t you think she deserves more?! \n Don't you? In your heart of hearts,\n secretly question yourself every day? \n Don't you?!\n\n SAM\n Yes.\n\n TURNER\n Was that a \"yes?\"\n\n RITA\n Objection.\n\n SAM\n Yes. She does. She deserves\n everything. In my heart of hearts.\n\n TURNER\n ", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "IER defiantly.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Fourteen thirty three. That's 5 ones, 2\n quarters and 16 cents less than twenty.\n\n He slowly counts his money, takes his tray and walks away. \n Rita watches him, with a trace of remorse and a hint of\n admiration.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n DR. DONOVAN, an attractive soft-spoken woman is on the stand. \n R", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", " RITA\n How can you say that?\n\n SAM\n Respect is not just about how smart\n someone is. Smart is not just about how\n smart someone is.\n\n RITA\n But what about Lucy? Aren't you being\n selfish? Doesn't she deserve a better\n life? Don't you think she's just\n pretending she's happy to not hurt your\n feelings? \n\n Sam jumps", "this relationship than you.\n\n SAM\n No no no. I'm the lucky one. I have\n the lawyer that never loses.\n\n RITA\n (covering)\n That's me...okay, let me see, let me\n see, let me see.\n (pulls out notes)\n They're going to put Bill and Randy on\n the stand first and then you.\n\n SAM\n Them first,", ".\n\n RITA\n (delighted)\n Excuse me. Now Ms. Cassell, in all the\n time you've known them, have you ever\n questioned Sam's ability as a father?\n\n ANNIE\n Never.\n\n RITA\n Never?\n\n ANNIE\n Never. Look at Lucy. She's strong,\n she's able to display true empathy for\n people,", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "RITA\n (into phone)\n Then keep dialing --\n (to Sam)\n What I mean is that at this point in my\n career, I can't afford to.\n\n SAM\n I earn eight dollars an hour at\n Starbucks. I can pay your hourly rate,\n rate by the hour, hourly --\n\n Rita stands up, ushering him to the door.\n\n RITA\n Mr. Dawson, I'", "\n\n RITA\n I know, but if you -\n\n SAM\n What? Do you want me to go?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that. But do you want to\n go?\n\n SAM\n Where?\n\n RITA\n Nevermind.\n\n SAM\n Fine.\n\n RITA\n Fine.\n\n IFTY, ROB", "check. Sam\n can't take care of Lucy?\n\n RITA\n It doesn't matter what I think - it\n matters that we win.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer it matters what you\n think.\n\n RITA\n Hey, it doesn't matter to them what I\n think.\n\n SAM\n Me. It matters to me.\n\n He reaches for the receipt, and faces the CASH", "with an expert\n witness.\n\n Rita looks at him. He's right. She chooses her words\n carefully.\n\n RITA\n I think...you deserve...a fair trial.\n\n SAM\n Answer the question.\n\n RITA\n Okay okay okay. What was the question\n again?\n\n SAM\n Do you think what they think? Sam can't\n order food. Sam can't pay a", " SAM\n I think.\n\n RITA\n Sam. You've got to be firm on this.\n\n SAM\n I think in other ways I'm smarter than\n her. Smarter than you are, Mr. Turner. \n In fact, in some ways I'm smarter than\n you, Judge McNeilly.\n\n RITA\n Whoa! Bring it down.\n\n SAM\n What", "middle..it's a\n special..I'll call you.\n\n To avoid any further interaction, she heads back to the\n employee party she previously escaped from. Sam walks down\n the hall.\n\n COLLEAGUE\n Is that the new janitor?\n\n RITA\n No, it's a case. Sort of a pro-bono\n thing.\n\n Her assistant Patricia clears her throat.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n " ], [ "this relationship than you.\n\n SAM\n No no no. I'm the lucky one. I have\n the lawyer that never loses.\n\n RITA\n (covering)\n That's me...okay, let me see, let me\n see, let me see.\n (pulls out notes)\n They're going to put Bill and Randy on\n the stand first and then you.\n\n SAM\n Them first,", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", "from going back to Meryl Streep,\n his lawyer said it was going to cost him\n fifteen thousand dollars - and that's if\n we win!\n\n SAM\n Fifteen thousand dollars!\n\n BRAD\n Don't worry about money now. Get the\n best. Century City - Here: \"Rubel Bly\n Harrison and Williams\".\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. RITA HARRISON'S CENTURY CITY OFF", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", ".\n\n BRAD\n Here - look at this - \"Sebastion\n Gibson.\" He can do anything. \n Pedestrians. Back and neck. Uninsured\n Motorist. Dog attacks.\n\n SAM\n The Social Worker said it's a custody\n case.\n\n ROBERT\n Then get a divorce lawyer.\n\n IFTY\n When Dustin Hoffman was trying to keep\n Billy", "s his tie.\n\n RITA\n Hello, Sam. Mr. Dawson. Sam. Dawson.\n\n SAM\n Hello, lawyer.\n\n They almost shake hands - realize that means touching each\n other and don't. Rita motions toward the door.\n\n RITA\n Shall we?\n\n SAM\n No. We already did. Don't tell\n anybody.\n\n They nervously walk through the door", "hour, Sam barrels down the street\n out of his mind. Cars are jammed up. He walks over them, a\n man possessed.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Everyone is in their places, waiting.\n\n TURNER\n Your Honor, if the defendant doesn't\n have enough interest in his daughter to\n even show up -\n\n RITA\n Your Honor, I'm sure he'll be here any\n moment. This is", "an extremely important\n day to Mr. Dawson.\n\n At THAT MOMENT, Sam bursts through the doors. Suit stained,\n hair sticky with frappuccino. Rita's jaw drops.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Your Honor, may I have a moment with my\n client?\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Make it brief, Ms. Harrison.\n\n Rita heads towards Sam. Up close, he looks even worse. \n", ", bumping into each\n other.\n\n INT. SMALL COURT ROOM - LATER\n\n She's very aware of Sam. He looks away, over compensating\n obviously. Throughout the scene, Rita's hair falls in her\n eyes. She attempts to put it in place.\n\n RITA\n Furthermore, my client has found a new\n job, and is making every effort to find\n a bigger apartment so that -\n\n Rita's hair falls in her eyes again.", "in the courtroom. \n Rita, stunned and incredulous; Turner and his associate\n smirking at him; Ifty, shaking his head; Robert, his face in\n his hands; Miss Wright, Margaret Brown, the State's Expert,\n almost willing him to fail. Are they right? Are they?\n\n SAM\n No, yes, no.\n\n TURNER\n No what?\n\n SAM\n Let me see let me see let me see.\n\n", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "IER defiantly.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Fourteen thirty three. That's 5 ones, 2\n quarters and 16 cents less than twenty.\n\n He slowly counts his money, takes his tray and walks away. \n Rita watches him, with a trace of remorse and a hint of\n admiration.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n DR. DONOVAN, an attractive soft-spoken woman is on the stand. \n R", "ITA (CONT'D)\n Mr. Dawson, what I'm trying to say is\n I'm a divorce lawyer and as much as I'd\n like to, I don't handle cases like yours\n --\n\n SAM\n Since you would like to, why don't you\n talk to your boss. Maybe he would let\n you.\n\n She pours the bowl of jelly beans onto her desk, now\n frantically sorting through them.\n\n ", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "do understand, that\n since I am a court appointed\n psychologist, the traditional client\n therapist confidentiality will be\n waived.\n (Sam looks confused)\n Mr. Dawson, do you understand that the\n confidentiality will be waived?\n\n Sam nods nervously and waves. With that she begins.\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Sam, Ifty, Brad and Robert hover over a used answering\n machine. Ifty pours over the instructions.", "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", " Sam, still in his white apron, walks down the busy street. \n He has a fast, loping gait that doesn't slow or hesitate for\n anyone. A COUPLE argue on the sidewalk. Sam WALKS RIGHT\n BETWEEN THEM.\n\n SAM\n It's time. It's time.\n\n Sam keeps moving, he crosses the street without stopping. \n Traffic SCREECHES to a HALT! Cars HONK, a taxi driver YEL", "you at some\n luncheon. But I'm here everyday.\n (gavel POUNDS AGAIN)\n You win, you're out the door. \n But guess who I see come back? The kid. \n Most of the time, in less than a year. \n Only now it's too late. So you're\n right. I'm real sensitive. You can't\n even touch that area.\n\n ON SAM\n\n Devast", "who does these kinds of cases. \n Leave your number. I'll see if she can\n help you.\n\n PATRICIA\n (through your phone)\n Your therapist on Line 1.\n\n RITA\n Tell him you can't find me.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n Sam is face to face with George.\n\n SAM\n I'm ready.\n\n GEORGE\n " ], [ "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "in the courtroom. \n Rita, stunned and incredulous; Turner and his associate\n smirking at him; Ifty, shaking his head; Robert, his face in\n his hands; Miss Wright, Margaret Brown, the State's Expert,\n almost willing him to fail. Are they right? Are they?\n\n SAM\n No, yes, no.\n\n TURNER\n No what?\n\n SAM\n Let me see let me see let me see.\n\n", "A long pause. Sam watches as Annie visibly tightens.\n\n TURNER (CONT'D)\n Excuse me, Ms. Cassell, I didn't hear\n your response. What about your father?\n\n Annie reaches for her water glass. We see her hand SHAKE. \n It knocks over the glass, shattering it on the floor.\n\n SAM\n Objection! No further questions!\n\n TURNER\n Excuse me, Mr.", "Sam's apartment. We see him on his knees. \n Saying his prayers by his bedside.\n\n SAM\n Help me, God. Help me, God. Help me,\n God...\n\n We see ANNIE'S SILHOUETTE from the window of her apartment as\n it moves across the frame.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Turner cross examines George, the manager of Starbucks.\n\n GEORGE\n Sam", " Except Sam. \n Who continues to stand until Rita pulls him down. Now we\n see:\n\n Ifty, Robert, Brad - and Brad's MOTHER, who sits several\n seats behind Brad knitting. Robert holds up a handmade sign\n from the back of the courtroom \"Free Lucy Dawson\".\n\n INT. COURTROOM - ONE HOUR LATER\n\n Turner, the prosecuting attorney, examines his first witness. \n He's disheveled, but don't let the rum", "you at some\n luncheon. But I'm here everyday.\n (gavel POUNDS AGAIN)\n You win, you're out the door. \n But guess who I see come back? The kid. \n Most of the time, in less than a year. \n Only now it's too late. So you're\n right. I'm real sensitive. You can't\n even touch that area.\n\n ON SAM\n\n Devast", "?\n\n RITA\n You know, trying to act like a -\n\n SAM\n Like a what?\n\n RITA\n Like a...a...\n\n SAM\n A real man?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that.\n\n SAM\n You're my lawyer and you think what they\n think. I don't have a chance. No\n chance at all. Even", "hour, Sam barrels down the street\n out of his mind. Cars are jammed up. He walks over them, a\n man possessed.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n Everyone is in their places, waiting.\n\n TURNER\n Your Honor, if the defendant doesn't\n have enough interest in his daughter to\n even show up -\n\n RITA\n Your Honor, I'm sure he'll be here any\n moment. This is", "IER defiantly.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Fourteen thirty three. That's 5 ones, 2\n quarters and 16 cents less than twenty.\n\n He slowly counts his money, takes his tray and walks away. \n Rita watches him, with a trace of remorse and a hint of\n admiration.\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n DR. DONOVAN, an attractive soft-spoken woman is on the stand. \n R", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "then me. They're a nice\n couple. They have a nice house. She's\n pretty. She's smart, too. I can tell. \n The manager of the salad bar is gonna\n testify, isn't he? That will help us.\n\n For a moment, Rita's mask drops and her fear for Sam\n overwhelms her.\n\n RITA\n Absolutely.\n\n SAM\n Nobody believed that George Harrison\n ", "\n Not that part of last night, the other\n part. Now you can do it. I know you\n can. Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n (a mile a minute)\n Lucy needs me.\n\n RITA\n Yes, slow down because Lucy needs you.\n\n SAM\n Lucy needs you.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Ms. Harrison. We need you!\n\n INT. COURTRO", "with an expert\n witness.\n\n Rita looks at him. He's right. She chooses her words\n carefully.\n\n RITA\n I think...you deserve...a fair trial.\n\n SAM\n Answer the question.\n\n RITA\n Okay okay okay. What was the question\n again?\n\n SAM\n Do you think what they think? Sam can't\n order food. Sam can't pay a", " Thank you, Sam.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n We all appreciate your assistance Mr.\n Dawson - continue with your witness, Mr.\n Turner.\n\n TURNER\n Now Ms. Geller, I assume in your therapy\n session, Mr. Dawson extolled his\n parenting abilities.\n\n THERAPIST\n On the contrary, Mr. Dawson admitted he\n felt profoundly inadequate - that he was\n terrified he", "\n ...could not control his emotions,\n endangering other children. Miss Brown\n also cites Mr. Dawson's mental\n deficiencies which raise serious\n questions about his ability to properly\n parent. I agree to grant petition. \n The child shall be removed from the home\n until a forma jurisdictional hearing. \n Mr. Dawson, is there anything you'd like\n to add?\n\n SAM\n Yes. I just wanted it to", "on the bench. She searches Sam's face for\n the verdict. The minute she sees sorrow in his eyes, she\n knows. She runs to him, gluing herself to his chest.\n\n LUCY\n No Daddy! No Daddy! No Daddy!\n\n In a SERIES OF WORDLESS DISSOLVES, they hold each other in\n the hallway through the entire forty five minute visit. The\n only thing moving is the hands of a large wall clock in the\n background. P", " Nobody's interested in the truth, Daddy. \n Nobody cares!\n\n They lead her down the hallway toward Mrs. Kerry - Sam's\n voice gets louder and louder - determined to make her hear.\n\n SAM\n I CARE! DO YOU HEAR ME? THE TRUTH. \n THE WHOLE TRUTH! SO HELP ME GOD!!\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n The darkness of", "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", "that. \n It made the song complete. That's why\n the whole world cried when they broke up\n on April 10, 1970.\n\n ON RITA\n\n Well, he has some kind of point. \n\n MARY, the Stenographer, is still typing.\n\n JUDGE MCNEILY\n Did you get that, Mary?\n\n INT. COURTROOM - LATER\n\n Turner fires questions at Sam - a mile a minute.", "make it worse for you. I\n can't do it. Don't you think I would if\n I could?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. COURTROOM - DAY\n\n We HEAR A VOICE:\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n All rise for the Honorable Judge Phillip\n McNeily.\n\n Sam stands along with others in the courtroom. The Judge\n enters and sits. Everyone else sits now, too." ], [ "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", "\n\n TURNER\n When you were Lucy's age, were you\n living at home?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Were you living with your mother and\n father?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Well then where were you living?\n\n SAM\n (very quietly)\n In an institution.\n\n TURNER\n So your parents", "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", "once again he had no idea how his\n behavior during that depression impacted\n on his daughter.\n\n RITA\n In these next months, Mr. Dawson will be\n expanding his support system to include\n Social Service programs, tutors --\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n It's too late! The foster family is\n petitioning the court for sole custody\n of Lucy and I fully support their\n request.\n\n Sam turns to Rita. This can", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", "URNER\n And do you know that means if you lie\n you could be in serious trouble?\n\n LUCY\n I do.\n\n TURNER\n So now that you and I have agreed to\n tell the truth, where did you sleep last\n night?\n\n Rita glares at Margaret. Thanks a lot.\n\n LUCY\n In my bed at the Foster home.\n\n TURNER\n All right, Lucy. If you", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "be more room for Lucy as she grows\n up.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n All of that is well and good but the\n fact that Mr. Dawson quite his job,\n missed his hearing, and did not even\n show up for his visits with his\n daughter...\n\n RITA\n The fact that my client went through\n profound depression is the most natural\n reaction any parent could have.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n But", " responsibility. Lucy feels she has to\n take care of her father. Although at\n her birthday party her true feelings\n about her father were revealed.\n\n RITA\n Objection. \"True feelings revealed\"?!\n\n TURNER\n The state is paying Miss Geller for her\n opinions -\n\n RITA\n Then every child who rages because they\n didn't get to stay up for that extra\n hour of TV -\n\n ", "toward\n Sam, Margaret Brown behind her.\n\n LUCY\n Daddy! I did great, didn't I?\n\n SAM\n No, Lucy, you lied.\n\n LUCY\n Shhh! Don't tell anyone.\n\n Rita watches Sam. Moved by his concern as a parent.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Lucy, Mrs. Kerry's here to take you\n back.\n\n LUC", "OM - LATER\n\n Sam, on the stand, talks a mile a minute from the coffee.\n\n RITA\n How will you be able to pay for private\n tutoring?\n\n SAM\n There's a free program at the YMCA. \n Lucy can go there.\n\n RITA\n But don't you ever think it would be\n better for Lucy if she lived with a\n permanent foster family and you could\n visit whenever you wanted", "Is that Lucy? Annie's supposed to call\n and warn us. Shhhh, everyone.\n\n Brad hits the lights. Sam OPENS THE DOOR and everyone yells\n \"SURPRISE!\" But instead of Lucy, it's the Social Worker.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n I don't know if you remember me. I'm\n Margaret Brown from Children's Social\n Services. We met at the police station.\n\n SAM\n ", "ara's Mommy lost her case and Tamara\n hasn't seen her in six years. She's had\n five different mommies and one of them\n hit her.\n\n SAM\n I won't let that happen.\n\n LUCY\n That's what her real mommy said. And\n now they won't even let her talk to her.\n\n Sam reels with confusion. Lucy buries herself in his chest.\n\n LUCY", " LUCY\n Daddy! I told you I told you!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE SOCIAL WORKER'S SMALL GREY OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Margaret, the therapist (Ms. Geller), and the Child\n Pscyhologist all write voraciously into note pads as they\n observe Sam and Lucy who sit in the center of the room,\n nervous under their scrutiny.\n\n SAM\n ...and she'", "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", "ained, Margaret reaches for Lucy.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n C'mon, Lucy. It's time to say goodbye.\n\n LUCY\n NOOOO! Don't let go don't let go don't\n let go -\n\n Sam's tears mix with Lucy's as they sob, clinging to each\n other. With such fierce love; a parent and a child.\n\n LUCY (CONT'D)\n Don't", "I think.\n\n LUCY\n Do you think she'll ever come back?\n\n SAM\n (long pause)\n Paul McCartney lost his mother when he\n was fourteen. John lost his mother\n twice. First when Julie gave John to\n her sister Mimi to raise. And then\n again when Julia was hit by a car. They\n say God picks certain people, special\n people. That's what they say.\n\n Lucy takes", " but we're going to have to remove Lucy\n from your home.\n\n Sam's baffled. One cop places his hand on Sam's shoulder,\n restraining him. The OTHER heads toward the photo booth.\n\n SAM\n No, no no no. It's her birthday! It's\n her birthday!\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n I know how hard this must be...\n (cell phone rings)\n ...Hello, Bets" ], [ "her hammock, unable to sleep. Staring at the\n little origami bird on her window sill. She moves it, opens\n the window wide, quickly takes Mr. Jeeters - and within a\n moment she's out the window and onto the limb of the tree.\n\n EXT. MAIN THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT\n\n \"The night grows teeth...\" stray dogs fight over garbage - a\n wino talks to himself and in the midst of it all walks Lucy\n in her pj's. Mr", ".\n\n LUCY\n I need to go to the bathroom.\n\n INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n Lucy's feet dangle from under the stall. Margaret's sturdy\n shoes from under another. Suddenly, Lucy's head pops out and\n now she quietly wriggles out from under the stall, tip toes\n across the room and out the door. Locking it with a key.\n\n INT. SOCIAL WORKERS ROOM - CONTIN", "?\n\n SAM\n The Fosters don't know her. Why can't\n she live with me and they can come visit\n if they want to. I'm firm on this. And\n I'm getting firmer. Lucy belongs with\n me.\n\n RITA\n Why?\n\n Sam puts his finger to his chin and starts his \"Let me\n see...\" Rita gives him a look; he lowers his finger and\n starts talking very fast from", " responsibility. Lucy feels she has to\n take care of her father. Although at\n her birthday party her true feelings\n about her father were revealed.\n\n RITA\n Objection. \"True feelings revealed\"?!\n\n TURNER\n The state is paying Miss Geller for her\n opinions -\n\n RITA\n Then every child who rages because they\n didn't get to stay up for that extra\n hour of TV -\n\n ", "- DAY\n\n Paints and brushes go FLYING across the porch as Lucy KNOCKS\n THEM OVER. Totally out of control.\n\n LUCY\n You gave him the wrong address! You're\n hiding me from him!\n\n As Randy reaches for her, Lucy pours black paint on her.\n\n EXT. CARPENTER HOUSE - DUSK\n\n Lucy sits in a ball on the corner of the porch. Her eyes\n swollen from crying. ", "URNER\n And do you know that means if you lie\n you could be in serious trouble?\n\n LUCY\n I do.\n\n TURNER\n So now that you and I have agreed to\n tell the truth, where did you sleep last\n night?\n\n Rita glares at Margaret. Thanks a lot.\n\n LUCY\n In my bed at the Foster home.\n\n TURNER\n All right, Lucy. If you", "\n\n TURNER\n When you were Lucy's age, were you\n living at home?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Were you living with your mother and\n father?\n\n SAM\n No.\n\n TURNER\n Well then where were you living?\n\n SAM\n (very quietly)\n In an institution.\n\n TURNER\n So your parents", " LUCY\n What's the longest any one of those kids\n stayed with you?\n\n RANDY\n Megan stayed a little over a year.\n\n LUCY\n (averting her eyes)\n Did you ever want any of them to stay\n longer?\n\n ON RANDY\n\n Moved herself. Understanding how huge a question this is\n coming from this bruised little heart.\n\t\t\t\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - W", " out of her hammock and tiptoes across her room - quietly\n opening the door.\n\n INT. CARPENTER HOUSE - STAIRS TO LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n We follow her through the dark house as she creeps down the\n stairs. She gets to the front door. It's been DEAD BOLTED\n where she cannot reach it. From the darkness we hear --\n\n RANDY\n (tenderly)\n Lucy. Come here.\n\n", "ara's Mommy lost her case and Tamara\n hasn't seen her in six years. She's had\n five different mommies and one of them\n hit her.\n\n SAM\n I won't let that happen.\n\n LUCY\n That's what her real mommy said. And\n now they won't even let her talk to her.\n\n Sam reels with confusion. Lucy buries herself in his chest.\n\n LUCY", "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "once again he had no idea how his\n behavior during that depression impacted\n on his daughter.\n\n RITA\n In these next months, Mr. Dawson will be\n expanding his support system to include\n Social Service programs, tutors --\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n It's too late! The foster family is\n petitioning the court for sole custody\n of Lucy and I fully support their\n request.\n\n Sam turns to Rita. This can", " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", "be more room for Lucy as she grows\n up.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n All of that is well and good but the\n fact that Mr. Dawson quite his job,\n missed his hearing, and did not even\n show up for his visits with his\n daughter...\n\n RITA\n The fact that my client went through\n profound depression is the most natural\n reaction any parent could have.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n But", "let them Daddy don't let them! \n Don't ever let me go!\n\n He can't let her go. That he can't do. Margaret, steel\n herself, turns to Rita, no matter how many times she's done\n this.\n\n MARGARET BROWN\n Please help me.\n\n Rita, aching from a place she thought she buried long ago,\n shakes her head, NO. Now, Margaret literally has to wrench\n Lucy away from her father", "ias to Sam's windowsill.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in a blanket being carried by Sam toward Randy's house.\n\n INT. LUCY'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Until FINALLY, we see Lucy in her hammock at Randy's house\n looking out the windows, which have now been completely\n covered with BARS. Her room is filled with origami birds\n from the 100 Denny's napkins, her birthday gift. Lucy gets\n", " from him. I honestly don't. So you\n tell me when you want to see him. You\n can see him anytime you want. But we\n have to arrange it first. Do you\n understand?\n (Lucy nods)\n Now would you like a snack?\n\n Lucy nods. Elated, Randy makes room for her on the couch. \n But Lucy just reaches for the milk and muffin and heads up\n the stairs then turns back and speaks gently to R", "t you just fall asleep, little\n girl?\n (Lucy cries harder)\n Okay, if you say it's time to get up,\n then it's time to get up, time to get\n up.\n (Sam sniffs the air)\n Oh my, oh my, oh my. Quite a bit of\n business.\n\n He rushes over to the kitchen counter and unsnaps the baby's\n pajamas, revealing a cloth diaper held together with\n promotional", "throws down book)\n There. I told you. It's too hard.\n\n MISS WRIGHT\n Lucy! I know you can read this!\n\n LUCY\n No, I can't! And you can't make me!\n\n Lucy runs out of the class.\n\n EXT. BUS STOP - DUSK\n\n Sam, in sunglasses, waits for the BUS. A YOUNG WOMAN, LILY,\n sits down" ], [ "STUNNED, she\n slaps him again. HE SLAPS HER. She rips the newspaper wall\n down.\n\n RITA\n You think you got the market cornered on\n human suffering? Well let me tell you\n something about \"People like me.\" \n People like me feel little and lost and\n ugly and dispensable. People like me\n have perfect husbands screwing someone\n far more perfect than me and my son, my\n son hates", "\n looking intensely vulnerable, holding her husband's suit.\n\n RITA\n My husband left this when he moved out.\n\n SAM\n Oh, lovely Rita, meter maid.\n\n RITA\n (entering)\n Nice place. I worry. I worry\n sometimes...\n\n SAM\n You worry you did the wrong thing?\n\n RITA\n I worry that I've gotten more out of\n ", "\n\n RITA\n I know, but if you -\n\n SAM\n What? Do you want me to go?\n\n RITA\n I didn't say that. But do you want to\n go?\n\n SAM\n Where?\n\n RITA\n Nevermind.\n\n SAM\n Fine.\n\n RITA\n Fine.\n\n IFTY, ROB", ",\n be friendly but not familiar. I can be\n your friend.\n\n RITA\n (oddly touched)\n Thank you, Sam.\n\n SAM\n You need to leave your husband.\n\n RITA\n (her armor up again)\n Oh, my marriage isn't so bad.\n\n SAM\n 'Life is very short and there's no time\n for fussing and fighting, my friend.'\n\n ", " RITA\n How can you say that?\n\n SAM\n Respect is not just about how smart\n someone is. Smart is not just about how\n smart someone is.\n\n RITA\n But what about Lucy? Aren't you being\n selfish? Doesn't she deserve a better\n life? Don't you think she's just\n pretending she's happy to not hurt your\n feelings? \n\n Sam jumps", "for her.\n\n SAM\n I tried. I tried.\n\n RITA\n Try harder.\n\n SAM\n You don't know. You don't know.\n\n RITA\n I don't know?\n\n SAM\n You don't know what it is to try and try\n and never get there. You were born\n perfect, perfect.\n\n RITA\n Is that", ", her shoulder, her forehead, her eyes,\n her tears. And something ignites between them - something\n confused and scary and deep and filled with a passionate\n ache.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Lovely Rita...\n\n On a bed of newspaper that was once a wall they come\n together, whole again.\n\n EXT. RANDY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY\n\n Sam rounds the corner walking - or rather being walked by SIX\n DOGS, all shapes, all", "Finally, she gets up and moves to the\n tiny chair that Randy put out for her. Straightens the easel\n and begins to paint.\n\n The front door opens and Randy comes out having washed her\n face and hair. Without speaking, Randy straightens her easel\n and sits down next to Lucy and begins to paint. Randy and\n Lucy paint in silence for a long time. Then -\n\n LUCY\n You're going to send me away now, aren't\n you?\n", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "work.\n\n RITA\n How was your day?\n\n DANNY\n You have to work. Go work.\n\n RITA\n No. How was your -\n\n Her CELL PHONE goes off. Rita moves into the hallway to\n answer her phone. Sam moves into the den, sits on the couch,\n the sound of Rita arguing with her husband drifts into the\n room. Sam looks sideways at Danny who remains stonefaced.\n\n ", "ve got to keep earning more\n money for when we get you Lucy back.\n\n SAM\n Lucy doesn't need me anymore. She has a\n new family. She doesn't need me\n anymore.\n\n RITA\n Is that what she said?\n\n SAM\n She didn't have to say it. I may be\n stupid, but I know. I know.\n\n RITA\n Well that's the first", "Yes she does. And you agree with\n everyone, you can't give her that?\n\n SAM\n (in unbearable pain)\n Maybe. Maybe everybody's right.\n\n ON TURNER\n\n There. He got it. \n\n ON RITA\n\n Anguished. Watching Sam unravel as he stands up and starts\n walking around in a circle in the witness box.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n No more no more!", "Rita's office is crying. He\n walks in and hands her a handkerchief from his pocket.\n\n SAM\n Here. Don't be sad.\n\n She looks at him as if he's from Mars. Rita, now outside her\n office, watches Sam now inside the office.\n\n RITA\n Patricia, I'm in the middle - get him\n out of there -\n\n She quickly gets up but Rita's too impatient and pushes past", "new suit. Rita stares\n at him astonished. He looks incredibly handsome. Rita,\n attempting to stifle her reaction, turns away from Sam.\n\n SAM\n Bad?\n\n RITA\n No. Very, very good. But your tie's\n crooked.\n\n Rita stands behind Sam with her around him showing him how to\n do his tie properly. Their images are reflected in the\n mirror.\n\n RITA (CONT'", "has to do with patience. \n It has to do with listening. To\n pretending to listen when you can't even\n listen anymore.\n\n The court is riveted by Sam's eloquence. Rita's amazed.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n It has to do with love, like she says...\n\n Rita's antenna goes up: who's \"she?\"\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n And I don't know", "\n her into the office.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Sam. Sam come with me.\n (to the Couple)\n We're gonna get through this excuse\n us...\n (to Sam)\n Sam this is their turn now. Not yours. \n Theirs. If you leave now you'll never\n make it and you have to make it.\n\n SAM\n Okay okay I know I take the #34 bus and\n", "up from the table, trembling with anger.\n\n SAM\n Lucy is happy! We have fun! We go to\n Denny's, we go to video night. I know\n how to love her. I know I'm not going\n to able to go to law school and learn\n how to be a mean person, but I know how\n to love. I know how to be her father,\n Mr. Turner!\n\n By this time he is face to face with Rita", ", your friend\n who does this kind of work?\n\n RITA\n (there never was a friend)\n I don't have her number anymore, Sam. \n We lost touch.\n\n SAM\n (devastated)\n Oh, that happens. That happens. People\n lose touch. Will you call me if you\n find it? If you get back in touch?\n\n RITA\n Yes, I'm just in the", "...\" I\n know the words, I said \"Over the sea...\"\n Since when don't you like that song? \n Danny?\n\n She checks her watch, puts him on the SPEAKER PHONE, and\n frantically searches the room for her keys.\n\n RITA (CONT'D)\n Danny?\n\n Silence. We hear SIX LOUD THUDS - the sound of a basketball\n bouncing against the floor.\n\n RITA (CONT'D", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n " ], [ " ...and want to come home.\n\n Sam looks at Randy with profound compassion.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n I was gonna tell the judge that I could\n give Lucy the kind of love she never\n had. But I would be lying.\n\n SAM\n I hope I hope I hope that you're saying\n what I think you're saying even though\n you're not saying it.\n\n Randy nods and hands the sleeping Lucy into Sam's", "strong\n arms. For a moment they BOTH HOLD LUCY between them in the\n most unique embrace. Randy finally lets go and struggles to\n say goodbye.\n\n RANDY\n Goodnight. I'll see you in court. Save\n me a seat...on your side.\n\n Randy walks away. Stunned, Sam watches her, holding Lucy in\n his arms. Then, from a very brave place:\n\n SAM\n Randy! If I", ", her shoulder, her forehead, her eyes,\n her tears. And something ignites between them - something\n confused and scary and deep and filled with a passionate\n ache.\n\n SAM (CONT'D)\n Lovely Rita...\n\n On a bed of newspaper that was once a wall they come\n together, whole again.\n\n EXT. RANDY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY\n\n Sam rounds the corner walking - or rather being walked by SIX\n DOGS, all shapes, all", " I can do it. I know I\n can.\n\n RANDY\n That's not up to me, but I'm telling\n you, I will do everything in my power to\n prevent Lucy from getting hurt again.\n\n Sam hangs his head. A dog barks at Randy.\n\n RANDY (CONT'D)\n Whose dogs are these?\n\n SAM\n Supplemental income supplemental income -\n bathe, walk and", " Lucy sits on the steps. Randy sits right next to her.\n\n BACK ON SAM\n\n Where he WAS standing, but is now GONE. The flowers lay in\n the dirt. From the porch, Lucy looks out and waits. And\n waits. And waits.\n\n INT. STARBUCKS - DAY\n\n It's Saturday. The place is buzzing. Sam listlessly cleans\n the tables, without the usual energy and verve. A TODDLER\n ", ", breathing hard,\n overcome with emotion. Rita is unexpectedly near tears. \n Suddenly before she knows it, she is HOLDING SAM. The room\n charged. She speaks tenderly, moved by this awkward boy/man.\n\n RITA\n I know you do, Sam. I know you do.\n\t\t\t\t\t \n INT. STARBUCKS - MORNING\n\n Sam rushes into the coffee shop in his new suit.\n\n GEORGE\n ", "\n We see that he's wearing the Armani suit. Sam opens the door\n to see Randy standing there, holding a sleeping Lucy in her\n arms.\n\n RANDY\n She fell asleep on the car ride over. I\n was gonna turn back and tuck her in to\n her bed...with the pink canopy...and the\n quilt I made...But I was afraid she'd\n wake up at our house...\n (fighting the ache in her soul)\n", "when Randy senses something. She\n opens her eyes and sees Lucy staring at her.\n\n LUCY\n Now.\n\n RANDY\n What honey?\n\n LUCY\n Now. I want to see him now.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM - 3:30 A.M.\n\n We see Sam sleeping in bed. There's a KNOCK at the door. \n Sam wakes with a start, throws down the covers.", "\n RANDY\n (tenderly)\n No.\n\n We hear what sounds like a child's hand playing the song\n \"Here, There and Everywhere...\"\n\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - EVENING\n\n We see SAM sitting at Lucy's miniature toy piano as he plays\n with one finger. IN A SERIES OF DISSOLVES, as DAYS and WEEKS\n PASS, we see SAM'S HANDS at the PIANO -\n", "\n INT. SAM'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n We come back to Sam, having withdrawn completely into himself\n serenading no one.\n\n INT. LUCY'S BEDROOM - DAY\n\n We see Lucy and Randy sitting on her bed unwrapping the\n birthday presents. TIME HAS PASSED. They look close, almost\n like a mother and daughter. Lucy finishes unwrapping Sam's\n present and we see a stack of ONE HUNDRED DENNY'S NAP", "andy.\n\n LUCY\n Thank you. Goodnight.\n\n RANDY\n (words caught in her throat)\n Goodnight, Lucy.\n\n INT. SAM'S BEDROOM - DAY\n\n We PAN ACROSS THE ROOM and see Sam's shoes, his tie, and a\n YELLOW PAD WITH ALL THE PRESIDENTS LISTED IN ORDER. A KNOCK\n at the door - Sam opens it to see Rita standing there,", "RANDY\n\n So unexpectedly bonded to them both.\n\t\t\t\n EXT. SOCCER FIELD - DAY\n\n A glorious sunny day. Lucy and her team are in the middle of\n a fierce game. A foul is called when we hear -\n\n SAM\n Penalty! Rules broken. Penalty,\n please!\n\n Sam, wearing a UNIFORM and whistle around his neck, walking\n his inimitable walk, races up the field, COACH", "this relationship than you.\n\n SAM\n No no no. I'm the lucky one. I have\n the lawyer that never loses.\n\n RITA\n (covering)\n That's me...okay, let me see, let me\n see, let me see.\n (pulls out notes)\n They're going to put Bill and Randy on\n the stand first and then you.\n\n SAM\n Them first,", "OF SHOTS AT 3:00 A.M. --\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy in her pj's walks down the middle of the street.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy knocks on Sam's window.\n\n EXT. STREET - NIGHT\n\n Lucy and Sam walk back down the street to Randy's house.\n\n EXT. SAM'S WINDOW - NIGHT\n\n Lucy lugs encycloped", "s his tie.\n\n RITA\n Hello, Sam. Mr. Dawson. Sam. Dawson.\n\n SAM\n Hello, lawyer.\n\n They almost shake hands - realize that means touching each\n other and don't. Rita motions toward the door.\n\n RITA\n Shall we?\n\n SAM\n No. We already did. Don't tell\n anybody.\n\n They nervously walk through the door", ". But she feels him. She walks\n toward school, clutching the bird, past a tree and we move up\n that tree and see Sam nestled in the branches. There. They\n made contact.\n\n EXT. RANDY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY\n\n It's later that week. Lucy walks proudly down the street in\n a GIRL SCOUT UNIFORM, selling cookies. Randy is by her side,\n beaming.\n\n LUCY\n ", " Well as a matter of fact, Sam and I have\n been discussing a promotion that I was\n planning on putting into effect at the\n end of the week.\n\n Sam leaps to his feet.\n\n SAM\n Oh boy! Thank you, George!\n\n Rita pulls him down. Turner seizes the moment.\n\n TURNER\n Yes. Thank you, George. Now, after\n eight years, Sam can finally measure out\n a teaspoon of coffee", "tell you I can't do it\n alone, will you tell the judge?\n\n RANDY\n (turns gently)\n No.\n\n SAM\n Promise?\n\n RANDY\n Promise...\n\n SAM\n I've looked and looked for a mother for\n Lucy. \n Help, I need someone, help, not just\n anyone. You're the red in Lucy's\n painting.\n\n ON", "He hands the letter to Rita. Rita looks through the glass\n wall at her clients who are getting impatient.\n\n RITA\n They want to have you and Lucy evaluated\n by a shrink. The appointment is today\n at three. Today. Now. Today!\n\n SAM\n I know and I want you to object.\n\n RITA\n Sam I can't object. It's court ordered.\n\n Sam notices that the woman in", "SAM\n No room. No room.\n\n RITA\n Hey. I lived in the East Village. I\n don't need a lot of room.\n\n SAM\n Sam makes life too hard. Sam makes life\n too hard on everyone.\n\n RITA\n Sam, I can go at least nine more rounds. \n But you gotta let me in. Please Sam. \n Please.\n\n He pulls out one small brick of" ] ]

[ "Why does Sam break down at the trial?", "Who does Lucy live with at the end of the trial?", "Who agrees to take Sam's case pro bono?", "What does Sam do every time Lucy runs away from the foster home and goes to Sam's?", "Who does Sam get to take care of Lucy when he cannot?", "What arrangement allows Lucy to return to Sam?", "Who is the referee at Lucy's soccer game?", "What relationship does Sam encourage Rita to repair?", "What does Sam and Rita work to do?", "What is Sam's disability?", "Who is Lucy?", "What issue does Sam's neighbor Annie have?", "What happens to Lucy that begins worrying others?", "Who is Rita Harrison?", "Why does Sam encourage Rita to leave her husband?", "What happens to Lucy after the trial?", "What does Lucy do every night in her foster home?", "Why does the foster family decide not to adopt Lucy?", "Which sport does Lucy play at the end of the story?", "What is the name of Sam's neighbour?", "Why do other children tease Lucy?", "On whose advice does Sam approach a lawyer?", "Why does Rita agree to take Sam's case?", "Why does Sam approach a lawyer?", "Why does Sam break down during the trial?", "To whose house is Lucy sent for foster care?", "Why does Lucy escape from her foster home in the middle of the night?", "What happens to Rita's marriage at the end?", "What arrangement did Sam and Randy agree upon at the end?" ]

[ [ "The opposing counsel convinces him that he is incapable of being a good father.", "He is convinced by opposing counsel that he is unfit to be a dad." ], [ "Randy Carpenter", "Foster home with Randy Carpenter" ], [ "Rita Harrison", "Rita Harrison." ], [ "He returns her to the foster home.", "He returns her to the foster home." ], [ "Annie", "Randy" ], [ "Randy agrees to help raise her.", "randy will help him raise her" ], [ "Sam", "Sam" ], [ "He encourages Rita to repair her relationship with her son.", "Her relationship with her son." ], [ "They work to secure Sam's parental rights.", "Secure his parental rights." ], [ "He has a developmental disability.", "developmental" ], [ "Sam's young daughter", "Sam's daughter" ], [ "She is agoraphobic.", "she's agoraphobic" ], [ "She advances Sam intellectually.", "she surpasses her father in mentail ability" ], [ "A big shot lawyer who takes Sam's case pro bono to help him retain his parental rights.", "Sam's lawyer" ], [ "He cheats on her.", "hes a philanderer and she never feels good enough" ], [ "She's placed in a foster home.", "She is sent to a foster home" ], [ "Breaks out and returns home to Sam", "Runs away to Sam's apartment." ], [ "They want to help Sam raise her instead.", "They decide to return he to Sam" ], [ "Soccer.", "soccer" ], [ "Annie", "Annie" ], [ "Because Lucy's father is a retard", "Because her father is \"retarded.\"" ], [ "On his friend's advice", "His friends" ], [ "Rita agrees to take Sam's case to prove it to others that she is not cold and heartless.", "to prove she is not heartless" ], [ "To secure his parental rights over Lucy.", "advice of friends" ], [ "Sam breaks down as the opposing counsel proves that he is not capable of taking care of Lucy.", "Counsel convinces him he can not be a father" ], [ "Randy Carpenter", "Randy Carpenter." ], [ "Lucy escapes from her foster home to go meet Sam.", "To go to Sam's apartment" ], [ "Rita divorces her husband", "Rita is single" ], [ "Sam agreed to have Randy help him raise Lucy.", "Lucy can stay with Sam, but Randy will help him raise her." ] ]

[ [ "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "\n CONSTANTINE\n\n\n\n\n by\n Kevin Brodbin\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n based on the characters appearing in\n\nmagazines published by DC Comics, Inc.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n previous revisions by\n Mark Bomback\n\n\n\n\n\n\n current revisions by\n Frank Cappello\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n EARLY PRODUCTION DRAFT\n\n November 14, 2", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "HN\n\n It's bad enough that you let these\n half-breeds in at all but this\n piece of shit --\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Perks of becoming a primary\n investor.\n\n JOHN\n\n What?!\nMidnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Things change, balances shift.\n Get used to it, Constantine.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not while I", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "of\n all your sins...'\nHe places a hand on Balthazar's forehead. Balthazar\nglares at it as John's voice rises with commanding\nauthority.\n\n JOHN\n\n 'Whosoever sins you remit on earth\n they are remitted unto them in\n heaven. I absolve you from -- '\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n -- It may not even work...\n\n JOHN\n\n How? How's he doing it?!\nBalth", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "has no patience for politeness, no time for tact,\nno fear of anything.\nThis man is JOHN CONSTANTINE.\nHe arrives at his destination, barges into --\n\n\n\n\n 5.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. APARTMENT 7B\n\nOne scan of the situation is all it takes. The bed --\nthe child -- the panicked priest -- who rushes to John.\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n (whispering)\n Thank God you're here...\nJohn shoot", "\n\n\n\n\nLIBRARY\n\nJohn stops, fixes on the two gentlemen standing in front\nof a fireplace. One is a young man of pure class wrapped\nin Armani's best. The other is Father Garret.\nJohn stands to the side and waits for their conversation\nto end. An ATTENDANT makes the rounds.\n\n ATTENDANT\n\n Can I take your coat, Mr.\n Constantine?\n\n JOHN\n\n No thanks, I'm not staying long.\n\n AT", "REPORT is opened. Let's see \"NO DRUGS\nIN SYSTEM\" and the biggie -- \"Cause of Death -- SUICIDE.\"\nAngela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and\ndistraught. She's taking this hard.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm sorry, Isabel...\nShe lowers her head. And in that brief moment of\nsilence --\n\n ISABEL (V.O.)\n\n (on TV)\n Constantine.\nAng", "\n\nINT. LAPD OFFICE - LATER\n\nThe name JOHN CONSTANTINE is center screen on a\nmonitor -- typed into the police station's SEARCH ENGINE.\nAngela sits alone in the squad room, rain streaking\nacross the windows.\nInterpol comes back with results and a list of priors\nscroll under John's name.\nMust be a hundred PARKING VIOLATIONS. Several SPEEDING\ntickets and a few RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT. In fact John's\nlicense has been REV", "IC. It stops\nMidnite cold.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gotcha.\nA reluctant grin cracks Midnite's stern features. He\ntakes the relic in his thick fingers -- stares\nbreathlessly at a gaunt figure bracing itself against a\ncosmic wind.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Second century depiction of a\n sephiroth in the 4th realm...\n\n JOHN\n\n Right. So we good here?\nMidnite ignores his", "concerned because now his skin appears\nin motion, rippling as if liquefied. And just when he\nsees the surface of the mirror BLISTERING and starts to\nmove --\n\nBOOOM --\n\nOne way GLASS EXPLODES outward on the front edge of a\nFIREBALL -- sending Balthazar flying with glass and\nflame.\nJohn stands on the other side in an ACCESS CHANNEL --\nthat Dragon's breath flamethrower now duct-taped to his\nholy shotgun.\n\n JO", "empty room, sees a large SHADOW\non the ceiling that doesn't belong to any object.\nHe holds back a cough long enough to rip up his sleeves\nand slams those tattoos together --\n\n JOHN\n\n Into the light I command thee!\n Into the light I command thee!\nIt takes every ounce of John's life force to keep this\nspell alive and when he's about to drop from exhaustion\nthe shadow is brought fully into the light -- becomes\nthat familiar shape of WINGS.\n\n VO", "engraved with religious markings.\nJohn takes them, tries them on. Nice fit.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Gold was blessed by the Bishop\n Anicott during the Crusades.\nJohn spots a foot-long COPPER TUBE in the bag, pulls it\nout, grips the bicycle handle on one end.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Watch it there.\nWith this puny little thing? John gives the handle a\nsqueeze and WHOOOOSH -- ten-foot FLAME BELCHES out", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", " JOHN\n\n I don't know... Just a feeling --\nJohn suddenly spins toward the entrance doors, is stunned\nto see --\n\n JOHN\n\n Balthazar.\nBalthazar is behind him. Utterly confident. Chillingly\nso.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n We're not still whining about\n Manhattan, are we?\nJohn's attempt to disguise his anger fails.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n That expression alone has made" ], [ "REPORT is opened. Let's see \"NO DRUGS\nIN SYSTEM\" and the biggie -- \"Cause of Death -- SUICIDE.\"\nAngela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and\ndistraught. She's taking this hard.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm sorry, Isabel...\nShe lowers her head. And in that brief moment of\nsilence --\n\n ISABEL (V.O.)\n\n (on TV)\n Constantine.\nAng", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "\n them in... I sent them right to\n their deaths... a damn one-man\n plague.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, you need a doctor.\n\n JOHN\n\n I've seen a goddamn doctor!!\nAngela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.\nJohn stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.\n\n JOHN\n\n Get away from me!!\n\n ANGELA\n\n John?\n\n JO", "in agony. Satan tears through his tissue --\ncollecting the cancer, then ripping out a mass of\ndiseased tissue with one vengeful pull. John's final\nblood-curdling SCREAM ECHOES over --\n\n\n\n\nINT./EXT. RAVENSCAR\n\n-- through every room. Every corridor. Rippling out\nacross the ground and finally dissipating in the hills\nbeyond.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nOn his hands and knees, John takes that first breath.\n", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "\n CONSTANTINE\n\n\n\n\n by\n Kevin Brodbin\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n based on the characters appearing in\n\nmagazines published by DC Comics, Inc.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n previous revisions by\n Mark Bomback\n\n\n\n\n\n\n current revisions by\n Frank Cappello\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n EARLY PRODUCTION DRAFT\n\n November 14, 2", " BALTHAZAR\n\n One more chance...\nShadow darkens and his decimated form shudders.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n Jesus didn't die from being nailed\n to a cross.\n\n\n\n\nEXT./INT. BARRACUDA - MOVING\n\nJohn takes a turn at 70 as Angela stares into John's\nBible.\n\n JOHN\n\n He was finished off by a soldier's\n spear.\nHe points in the Bible", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "off of plates. Fish,\npasta, prime rib. Shovels it all in. Patrons are\nyelling -- screaming. He's eating as if his life\ndepended on it. And even though he's devouring anything\nin sight, this huge man is wasting away before our eyes.\nIn the middle of all this chaos is one customer calmly\neating his meal. Balthazar.\nHennessey hijacks a food cart -- consumes everything on\nit yet his skin is getting looser and the body inside\ngets thinner.\nHe grabs a", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "HN\n\n It's bad enough that you let these\n half-breeds in at all but this\n piece of shit --\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Perks of becoming a primary\n investor.\n\n JOHN\n\n What?!\nMidnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Things change, balances shift.\n Get used to it, Constantine.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not while I", "\n\n\n\n\nLIBRARY\n\nJohn stops, fixes on the two gentlemen standing in front\nof a fireplace. One is a young man of pure class wrapped\nin Armani's best. The other is Father Garret.\nJohn stands to the side and waits for their conversation\nto end. An ATTENDANT makes the rounds.\n\n ATTENDANT\n\n Can I take your coat, Mr.\n Constantine?\n\n JOHN\n\n No thanks, I'm not staying long.\n\n AT", "but it's\nway too noisy to hear. All we see are the emotions on\nBeeman's face. No doubt news of Hennessey's death is one\nof the biggies.\nBeeman quickly reaches for a marker, puts it to paper and\nstarts drawing -- listening and drawing --\nHe's finished, hangs up. Stares at the Symbol. That\ncabinet with the ancient books now gets his attention.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n I need to see where Isabel died.\n\n\n\n\nEXT.", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "protective amulet he\nhimself removed from his friend. That's even more\ncrushing.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 64.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Shit...\n (sympathetic)\n Why didn't you call me, you fat\n sonna bitch...\nJohn lowers his head, then spots blood stains on one of\nHennessey's hands. He opens the fingers, studies the\nf", "John tries to stay cool -- fails. He TRASHES the X-ray\nboxes. Diseased lungs disappear. Doc shakes his head.\n\n DR. ARCHER\n\n Twenty years ago you didn't want\n to be here. Now you don't want to\n leave.\n\n JOHN\n\n That's because I know exactly\n where I'm going this time.\n\n\n\n\nINT. HALLWAY\n\nJohn steps outside of the Doctor's office, pauses to\ngather himself. He starts", "has no patience for politeness, no time for tact,\nno fear of anything.\nThis man is JOHN CONSTANTINE.\nHe arrives at his destination, barges into --\n\n\n\n\n 5.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. APARTMENT 7B\n\nOne scan of the situation is all it takes. The bed --\nthe child -- the panicked priest -- who rushes to John.\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n (whispering)\n Thank God you're here...\nJohn shoot", "HN\n\n What happened to staying in the\n car?\n\n ANGELA\n\n You were in danger.\n\n JOHN\n\n Well now there's a premonition.\nSIRENS crack the air. Angela jumps in and John PEELS\n\nOUT.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. BZR\n\nBalthazar is taking his last breaths when the sound of\nWIND filters through the room. He looks up as a shadow\ndrapes across him. Eyes widen.\n\n " ], [ "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "\n\n\n\n 71.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n No. The other one.\n (off her look)\n Lucifer had a son too.\n\n\n\n\nINT. 20 LANES - BEHIND THE LANES\n\nBeeman sits under the glow of a desk lamp. The narrow\nalley of machines stretches out behind him. He stares\ninto the scrolls -- an ancient book with a single page\nfolded a thousand times. Turn", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", ". He stops at a LONG\nMIRROR on one wall. Adjusts his collar, his hair. His\n\"look.\"\n\n PRETTY BOY\n\n What are we pushing today, sir?\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Phillip Morris.\nAs Balthazar admires himself, his reflection distorts\nslightly. The demon in him? He touches his face, does a\nvowel stretch. His face distorts even further.\nThat's got him moving closer to the mirror.\nBalthazar's", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "t have the mindset\n for this kind of work.\nThey walk together down the lonely street.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Look, I see terrible things every\n day. A mother drowns her baby. A\n ten-year-old shoots his father.\n But it's not demons, it's the evil\n that men do.\nBehind them, a streetlight BLINKS OUT. Then another.\nThey're not looking back so they don't see it.\n\n JOHN\n\n You", "his brain going into overdrive.\n\n JOHN\n\n Symbol isn't a demon's... that's\n why I couldn't place it... not a\n normal possession...\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, what are you talking about?\n\n JOHN\n\n But he can't cross over --\n impossible for the son to cross\n over...\n\n ANGELA\n\n Whose son? God's?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams" ], [ "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", "MAMMON (O.S.)\n\n Angela.\nAngela SPINS and for a split second comes face to face\nwith the hideous form of MAMMON. She SCREAMS.\n\n\n\n\nINT. NORMAL PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - REAL TIME\n\nJohn and Midnite burst into the room, spot Barry standing\nin the tank. His hands in the water. On Angela.\n\n JOHN\n\n (rushing toward him)\n Barry!\nBarry looks up, sees the two men rushing", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "-- clasps a hand over her mouth -- cutting off her air\nsupply.\n\n JOHN\n\n Back to Hell, asshole --\nHer body undulates as Mammon's shape tries to come through.\nPulsating through her arms, her chest -- her face.\nAngela BITES into his palm. John recoils. She shoves\nhim off and John hits the tile hard. Angela jumps from\nthe tank, pushes past in a blur. John spins to see\nMidnite standing right there -- Angela now firmly in his\nsize-tw", "dormant pin\nmachines.\nHe stops at lane 13, leans way way down, past the\nmachinery and peeks out the pin hole.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n John?\n\n\n\n\n 72.\n\n\n\n\n\nEXT. LA STREETS - NIGHT\n\nAngela's SUV races quickly through traffic while John\ngets her up to speed.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n The myth says Mammon was conceived\n before his father's", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "presume to judge me, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n Betrayal, murder, genocide? Call\n me provincial.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I am seeking to inspire humankind\n to be all that was intended.\n\n JOHN\n\n By unleashing Hell on Earth? Good\n thinking...\nGabriel's wings fold behind as he walks around John.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 109.\n", "walking toward her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?\n (off no answer)\n How about what comes out of each?\nAngela keeps walking. He catches up with her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey!\n\n ANGELA\n\n You mean like angels?\n\n JOHN\n\n And demons.\nAngela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.\n\n JOHN\n\n See, you don'", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "t have the mindset\n for this kind of work.\nThey walk together down the lonely street.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Look, I see terrible things every\n day. A mother drowns her baby. A\n ten-year-old shoots his father.\n But it's not demons, it's the evil\n that men do.\nBehind them, a streetlight BLINKS OUT. Then another.\nThey're not looking back so they don't see it.\n\n JOHN\n\n You", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN" ], [ "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "in one powerful motion --\nsweeps his arm up as he lights his hand.\nSacred cloth catches fire -- then IGNITES with a\nbrilliant retina-searing FLASH -- blinding Angela and\nilluminating a --\n-- CIRCLE OF WINGED DEMONS -- a roiling broth of\nreptilian death -- right there -- ready to pounce.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 53.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "a 70-year-old porcelain BATHTUB. Angela\nstands in the center.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 78.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why water?\n\n JOHN\n\n It's the universal conduit.\n Lubricates the transition from one\n plane to another. Now ask me if\n there's water in Hell.\nJohn turns off the fauc", "\n\n\nEXT. HELL LOS ANGELES\n\nJohn walks out onto the top overpass of a crumbling maze\nof intersecting freeways. Burnt-out husks of long-\nforgotten vehicles sit in rows of gridlock. A low DRONE\npenetrates the silence.\n\n JOHN\n\n Is she here?\nOn the horizon is a dying RED SUN. It strains to cut\nthrough the putrid brown haze.\n\n JOHN\n\n Is she here?!\nHis VOICE", " 112.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn pries his eyes open...\n\n SATAN\n\n Hello, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're early.\n\n SATAN\n\n You're the one show I wouldn't\n miss.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I've heard.\nSatan sees John's slit wrists.\n\n SATAN\n\n I didn't think you'd make the", "REVERBERATES to infinity.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 56.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn cautiously steps closer to the railing, looks down\nto the ribbons of twisting streets below. They're\ncrammed with teeming masses of the damned. All walking\ndown in silence, faces numb with sorrow and grief.\n\n JOHN\n\n\n IS SHE HERE?!\n\nThat low DRONE RISE", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "RED FLAME radiates from the cloth and DEMONS SHRIEK as\nthey are instantly vaporized.\nJohn tucks his burning hand into a coat pocket,\nextinguishes the flame. He leans down to a rubbery stain\nleft from one of the burnt demon carcasses. Shakes his\nhead in disbelief.\n\n JOHN\n\n (to himself)\n 'I accidentally crossed over?' I\n don't think so.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (coming up behind)", "in agony. Satan tears through his tissue --\ncollecting the cancer, then ripping out a mass of\ndiseased tissue with one vengeful pull. John's final\nblood-curdling SCREAM ECHOES over --\n\n\n\n\nINT./EXT. RAVENSCAR\n\n-- through every room. Every corridor. Rippling out\nacross the ground and finally dissipating in the hills\nbeyond.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nOn his hands and knees, John takes that first breath.\n", "she in Hell?\nOne of those rare moments where John has no answer.\n\n\n\n\nINT. 20 LANES BOWLING ALLEY\n\nSomething small and SHINY is rolling down the alley. It\nlands in the trough, spins round and round --\nBeeman leans out to try and see what it is. The silver\nobject keeps spinning.\nHe waits for it to stop, swats a fly near his face. Then\nanother.\nBook on his desk ignites in flame.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. 2", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "\n\n When I returned I didn't just see\n demons anymore, I could do the one\n thing they couldn't -- come and go\n as I please.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. MORGUE - HENNESSEY\n\nruns as fast as a very obese man can -- aiming for that\nPHONE BOOTH on the corner. He grabs the receiver,\npunches numbers as fast as he can. RING -- RING --\n\nRING --\n\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n Be", "is suddenly caught in a ghostly dim half-light and John\nhas now crossed over into --\n\n\n\n\nAPARTMENT IN HELL\n\nSame layout, different decorator. John takes a deep,\nraspy breath, slowly stands. He turns to the wall behind\nhim which is torn away, looking like some half-bombed\nstructure in Beirut.\nBeyond the wall is no longer the blackness of a\nnightscape but a sickly sepia glow. Not quite day, not\nquite night.\nJohn steps over the crumbling wall into --\n\n", " JOHN\n\n Well, what would you do if you\n were sentenced to a prison where\n half the inmates were put there by\n you?\nNot a serene image at all. Angela studies him.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why you? I mean many go to Hell,\n why were you able to escape?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 63.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n" ], [ "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "-- clasps a hand over her mouth -- cutting off her air\nsupply.\n\n JOHN\n\n Back to Hell, asshole --\nHer body undulates as Mammon's shape tries to come through.\nPulsating through her arms, her chest -- her face.\nAngela BITES into his palm. John recoils. She shoves\nhim off and John hits the tile hard. Angela jumps from\nthe tank, pushes past in a blur. John spins to see\nMidnite standing right there -- Angela now firmly in his\nsize-tw", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "MAMMON (O.S.)\n\n Angela.\nAngela SPINS and for a split second comes face to face\nwith the hideous form of MAMMON. She SCREAMS.\n\n\n\n\nINT. NORMAL PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - REAL TIME\n\nJohn and Midnite burst into the room, spot Barry standing\nin the tank. His hands in the water. On Angela.\n\n JOHN\n\n (rushing toward him)\n Barry!\nBarry looks up, sees the two men rushing", "dormant pin\nmachines.\nHe stops at lane 13, leans way way down, past the\nmachinery and peeks out the pin hole.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n John?\n\n\n\n\n 72.\n\n\n\n\n\nEXT. LA STREETS - NIGHT\n\nAngela's SUV races quickly through traffic while John\ngets her up to speed.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n The myth says Mammon was conceived\n before his father's", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", "\n\n Listen to my voice inside...\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S - STORAGE ROOM\n\nMidnite kneels in front of John who is now handcuffed to\nthe chair, cables draped from every limb.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n I'll try and guide you out.\n\n JOHN\n\n Try?\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon was forced out of that girl\n when she jumped so unless he found\n a holding vessel to wait in", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", "\n Bastard changed the code again.\n (bangs the doors)\n Midnite! Come on, do I have to\n huff and puff here?!\nThe doors unlatch.\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S OFFICE\n\nSWEEP ACROSS a meticulously-crafted ORRERY, a scientific\nsculpture that normally displays our solar system in\nrelative motion. But the planets here are ancient RELICS\nwith symbols and names -- MATERIAL, ASTRAL, SPIRITUAL,\n", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises" ], [ "REPORT is opened. Let's see \"NO DRUGS\nIN SYSTEM\" and the biggie -- \"Cause of Death -- SUICIDE.\"\nAngela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and\ndistraught. She's taking this hard.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm sorry, Isabel...\nShe lowers her head. And in that brief moment of\nsilence --\n\n ISABEL (V.O.)\n\n (on TV)\n Constantine.\nAng", "\n fails to grasp is that if she had\n really taken her own life --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 49.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- she would have committed a\n mortal sin and her soul would have\n gone straight to Hell where it\n would never feel love or\n compassion or anything but pain\n again as the master himself rips\n her apart over and over for the\n rest of eternity.\n", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "73.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn sits back, gut churning. Angela's in detective mode.\n\n ANGELA\n\n She knew. That's why she killed\n herself. But it doesn't make\n sense...\n\n JOHN\n\n Makes sense to me.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, she sacrificed herself to\n beat him.\nJohn nods. Your point?\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why is", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", " 112.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn pries his eyes open...\n\n SATAN\n\n Hello, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're early.\n\n SATAN\n\n You're the one show I wouldn't\n miss.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I've heard.\nSatan sees John's slit wrists.\n\n SATAN\n\n I didn't think you'd make the", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "\n\n\n\nFATHER GARRET\n\nand Angela have retreated to another area for privacy.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why is he stalling on this? My\n sister needs a Catholic funeral.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n Angela, it's still considered a\n mortal sin --\n\n ANGELA\n\n She didn't commit suicide.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n The Bishop has read otherwise.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Father...", "!\nJohn pauses, realizes what's happening here...\n\n JOHN\n\n ... and I'll be condemned again...\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Do it!\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 117.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nIt takes everything John has not to pull that trigger.\nHe lowers the gun, shaking his head.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're even worthless as bait.", " BALTHAZAR\n\n One more chance...\nShadow darkens and his decimated form shudders.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n Jesus didn't die from being nailed\n to a cross.\n\n\n\n\nEXT./INT. BARRACUDA - MOVING\n\nJohn takes a turn at 70 as Angela stares into John's\nBible.\n\n JOHN\n\n He was finished off by a soldier's\n spear.\nHe points in the Bible", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "\n them in... I sent them right to\n their deaths... a damn one-man\n plague.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, you need a doctor.\n\n JOHN\n\n I've seen a goddamn doctor!!\nAngela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.\nJohn stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.\n\n JOHN\n\n Get away from me!!\n\n ANGELA\n\n John?\n\n JO", "protective amulet he\nhimself removed from his friend. That's even more\ncrushing.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 64.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Shit...\n (sympathetic)\n Why didn't you call me, you fat\n sonna bitch...\nJohn lowers his head, then spots blood stains on one of\nHennessey's hands. He opens the fingers, studies the\nf", "wait for John to do the deed.\nHe puts the blade to his wrist -- one swipe and the world\naround him accelerates away in a STREAKED BLUR --\n\n\n\n\nINT. DINER (PRESENT)\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n But you're still here. Alive.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not my doing.\nHis chest suddenly HEAVES forward -- and we're on...\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN\n\nas he's j", "\n\n No. She jumped.\nAngela gives him an incredulous glare. Shakes her head.\n\n WEISS\n\n I know it's hard to accept but --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 31.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel would never in a million\n years take her own life. Never.\n\n WEISS\n\n Angela... there was a surveillance\n camera", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "looks up as John retrieves a gun from the wet\nfloor.\n\n JOHN\n\n You don't deserve to be human.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Then pass judgment on me now.\nJohn raises the gun -- puts it to Gabriel's forehead.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Do it. Seek revenge. End my\n life.\nJohn's finger nudges the trigger.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Kill me! Pull the trigger! Be\n the hand of God", "JOHN\n\n Yeah...\n (to himself)\n And I don't think they were after\n me...\nJohn looks at her with renewed interest.\n\n JOHN\n\n You really believe she wouldn't\n commit suicide?\n\n ANGELA\n\n (a bit thrown)\n My sister?\n (a beat)\n Never in a million years.\nJohn makes the decision.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 5", "plate? Why?\nGabriel moves right up to him, makes this very personal.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You're going to die because you\n smoked 30 cigarettes a day since\n you were 15. And you're going to\n Hell because of the life you took.\n Or to put it in a way that your kind\n would understand. You're fucked.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. THEOLOGICAL SOCIETY - MINUTES LATER\n\nAngela stands on the porch at the" ], [ "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "HN\n\n It's bad enough that you let these\n half-breeds in at all but this\n piece of shit --\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Perks of becoming a primary\n investor.\n\n JOHN\n\n What?!\nMidnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Things change, balances shift.\n Get used to it, Constantine.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not while I", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "wayward of his flock\n but it might sound disingenuous.\n\n JOHN\n\n So you're going to make me beg?\nAngela pauses on her way out, looks over.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n It wouldn't help. You've already\n wasted your chance at redemption.\n\n JOHN\n\n What about the minions I've sent\n back, the souls that I've saved --\n that should guarantee my passage\n across --\n\n G", "break down on my\n account.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n What do you want from me? A\n shoulder to cry on?\n\n JOHN\n\n This bastard attacked me right out\n in the open -- on Sepulveda no\n less.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n They don't like you, John. You've\n deported how many back to Hell?\n\n JOHN\n\n That's just it -- this wasn't some\n possession or wayward", "RED FLAME radiates from the cloth and DEMONS SHRIEK as\nthey are instantly vaporized.\nJohn tucks his burning hand into a coat pocket,\nextinguishes the flame. He leans down to a rubbery stain\nleft from one of the burnt demon carcasses. Shakes his\nhead in disbelief.\n\n JOHN\n\n (to himself)\n 'I accidentally crossed over?' I\n don't think so.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (coming up behind)", "can't\nbreak his hold. He's choking, frantically rummages\nthrough his coat pockets. Comes out with those sacred\nGOLD KNUCKLES on his right hand.\nBalthazar tightens his grip and John swings, clocks him\nacross the face. The enhanced punch sends a dizzying\nripple throughout Balthazar's body.\nBut he doesn't let go. John is choking, starts whaling\non him. Again and again -- each punch weakening this\ndemon more.\nJohn finally" ], [ "of toilet tissue,\ncooking supplies, etc. And sitting in one corner by the\nhuge power transformer is --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 97.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n-- the chair. Heavy wooden monstrosity with straps and\ncuffs and the wear of many who sat in it for the last\ntime. Yeah, it's an electric chair right out of Sing\nSing.\n\n JOHN\n\n What's in your bathroom,", " JOHN\n\n Where's the chair?\n\n MIDNITE\n\n The chair?\n\n JOHN\n\n The delicate little number from\n Sing Sing?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 96.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nMidnite just stares at him.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n It's a fine line that separates a\n hero from a fool.\n\n JOH", "and brings an odd COIN INTO VIEW --\nJohn's face contorts with rage as he takes the familiar\ncoin.\n\n JOHN\n\n Balthazar.\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT - LATER\n\nBeeman's bowling bag is flipped and the contents are\ndumped onto a table. Powder, bugs and bullets go\neverywhere. John retrieves the odd-tipped bullets.\nThose brass knuckles and that copper pipe are taken also.\n\n\n\n\nCH", "toward him.\nGuns aimed.\n\n JOHN\n\n Let her up!! Let her up!!\nA beat as John meets Barry's eyes -- realizes he's\nstaring at a frightened child. Barry backs away as --\n-- Angela sits up behind John. Water rippling off,\nstraps dangling free.\nJohn turns -- locks on her BLACK EYES.\n\n JOHN\n\n Shit --\nJohn thinks fast -- scans the area and sees every mirror\nin the room has been shattered. So much", "s digging. With his arm under the tapestry, he\nscratches at the stone with a SPOON. After only a year,\nthe spoon finally breaks through.\n\n\n\n\nINT. NARROW CHANNEL\n\nPrisoner claws his way between ancient walls, comes to a\ndead end against a thick wooden door. He nudges a\nshoulder against it, digs in and pushes. DOOR GROANS\nopen, sucking air into the pitch black CHAMBER.\n\n\n\n\nINT. PRISONER'S C", " JOHN\n\n Well, what would you do if you\n were sentenced to a prison where\n half the inmates were put there by\n you?\nNot a serene image at all. Angela studies him.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why you? I mean many go to Hell,\n why were you able to escape?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 63.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n", ".\nJohn tries again. Again Midnite stops him.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n In your condition your body won't\n take much.\n\n JOHN\n\n I just need enough rope to find\n her.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n And if you do -- what then?\n\n JOHN\n\n One goddamn problem at a time --\nJohn shoves past him, plops his ass in the huge chair.\nHis feet dangle off the ground. Midnite stands by,", ".\nIn the back bed are several goats and one Prisoner.\nHe grips the relic tight in one hand. That anxious fever\nhas returned.\nGlazed eyes dart to the side and lock on a rising\njetliner in the distance -- dart back to the road they're\non -- heading the opposite way.\nPrisoner clamps his eyes tight, grips to the relic\ntighter.\nEyes snap open and he turns, thrusts his elbow through\nthe center window, leans in and grabs the Driver -- jerks\nhis head", "at a detailed painting of the\nevent -- Jesus hanging on the cross -- being pierced by a\nsoldier's spear. It matches that child's drawing John\nremoved from the fridge -- now lying on his seat.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm Catholic, John -- I know the\n crucifixion story.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 89.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Then", "won't\nhelp. So John starts strapping himself in the chair.\nHis chest, his ankles. One wrist. He obviously can't\nstrap the other. He looks to the big man.\n\n JOHN\n\n You want me to sign a waiver?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 98.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nMidnite sighs -- finally straps the other wrist in --\npulls it TIGHT. Ouch.", ", griping the relic tight. GUNSHOTS RING\nOUT. Bullets streak toward him but never hit their\ntarget. Guards check their weapons on the run.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. NEAR A ROAD - NIGHT\n\nPrisoner breaks from the trees, runs into a road.\nHeadlights wash over him and TIRES SCREECH. Prisoner\nspins, is right in the path of a car.\nBRAKES SQUEAL -- car locks up but too late -- IMPACTS\nPrisoner who is violently thrown and", " a few magic bullets to get inside.\nJohn centers on the Sparkletts bottles positioned around\nthe room. Just like John's. Hmmmm...\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 102.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n That ritual you do with the water,\n can you do more than one bottle at\n a time?\nMidnite raises an eyebrow.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. RAVENSC", "discovers the cloth is a\nNazi flag.\nAt the center is a crudely-shaped IRON RELIC. Eight inches\nlong. Stains on the edges. Could be the petrified tooth of\nsome prehistoric animal. Or maybe an ancient arrowhead.\nAs he holds it, feverish sweat starts to form on his face.\n\n\n\n\nMYSTERIOUS POV\n\nFrom BEHIND. As if he's being watched by someone else.\nPrisoner spins, looks back AT us. Nothing.\n\n\n\n\nPRISON", " driver hanging from his\n fingernails about to be swallowed\n into the jaws of Hell?\n\n CHAZ\n\n So what time you want me back?\nJohn gives him a knowing look, goes back to emptying his\npockets.\n\n JOHN\n\n I need to make an appearance at\n Midnite's. Say ten-ish?\nChaz sighs, starts out --\n\n JOHN\n\n Chaz...?\nChaz turns back, catches an object John throws him.\n\n", "There, I moved the damn car.\n\n\n\n\n 7.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. HALLWAY\n\nFour men struggle to carry up that enormous mirror. The\nOld Woman follows, begs them to be gentle. They swing\nthe mirror around, take out a chunk of banister. She\nfreaks.\n\n\n\n\nINT. APARTMENT 7B\n\nHennessey can only watch as John threads the drapery rope\nthrough the fire escape railing, drapes it back through\nthe window and loops it over the ceiling fan", "leans to a gutter. Another rat scoots past. John\nbarely notices. Then a frog jumps past. But it's the\ncrab crawling by that finally catches John's gaze.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 41.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n VOICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Hey, buddy, you got a light?\nJohn turns, settles on a silhouetted figure standing\n", "seeing only darkness as the sounds get\nCLOSER -- ghastly sound of MOVEMENT in the fringes of\nlight.\nThe cross now resembles a dying wire filament and with\nevery second the circle of light gets smaller and those\nSOUNDS GET CLOSER. John takes out his special lighter.\n\n JOHN\n\n Close your eyes.\nThey are now standing in pitch darkness.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why?\n\n JOHN\n\n Suit yourself.\nJohn flicks the lighter and", " JOHN\n\n Well I do have a certain standard\n of living.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Tell me you found it.\n\n JOHN\n\n I found the vault.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n That's not what I asked.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey, can I help it if Buddhist\n monks don't take bribes?\nMidnite strides toward him when John calmly pulls from\nhis pocket a small ebony and gold REL", "engraved with religious markings.\nJohn takes them, tries them on. Nice fit.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Gold was blessed by the Bishop\n Anicott during the Crusades.\nJohn spots a foot-long COPPER TUBE in the bag, pulls it\nout, grips the bicycle handle on one end.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Watch it there.\nWith this puny little thing? John gives the handle a\nsqueeze and WHOOOOSH -- ten-foot FLAME BELCHES out", "far wall, sees a hint of light above\nthrough the crumbling limestone. A way out. Too high to\nreach, Prisoner pulls an old CHEST out of a cobwebbed\ncorner and slides it under the light.\nHe steps up onto the chest, grabs the edges of the hole\nand starts to shove off when the top of the chest gives\nway and his foot crunches through.\nPrisoner reaches down to free his foot when he sees\nsomething inside -- wrapped in a red cloth. He pulls it\nout and as he unwraps it, he" ], [ "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "87.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n What killed the Son of God will\n give birth to the son of the\n devil.\nJohn's mind races and he finally puts it together.\n\n JOHN\n\n He's found the Spear.\nBalthazar's expression confirms it.\n\n\n\n\nCLOSE ON THE PRISONER'S RELIC\n\nIt's tucked between the folds of an AIRLINES blanket.\n", " Deus, Miserere nobis...\nA FLASH turns into a streak behind John's face --\nstretching to infinity.\n\n MIDNITE (V.O.)\n\n Find the possessor and the Spear\n will be revealed... find them...\n find them and follow...\nThe flash whips back TOWARD us and John is suddenly\nsomewhere else. He looks O.S.\n\n\n\n\nINT. PRISON CHAMBER FROM THE OPEN\n\nFROM that MYSTERIOUS POV, we watch the Pr", "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", ". AFRICA\n\nJOHN pulls back the protective hood from his face.\nHealthy and tan with a new lease on life. He pops a\nNICORETTE TABLET, then unwraps rolls of cloth from around\nthe Spear of Destiny. He drops it in the hole, stares at\nit a long beat.\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT - THE ORRERY\n\nThe entire mechanism shudders. And now miraculously,\nevery globe, every moon, every obscure object in this\nmini", "skin melting, revealing snippets of the true demons\nunderneath. It's total pandemonium as their rage is\ndirected toward the only real humans in the room.\nJohn and Midnite fling their coats open -- draw their\nWEAPONS and starts FIRING away at the attacking horde.\nSacred bullets cause major damage -- wounds that ripple\nout through demon bodies.\nJohn and Midnite slam back to back -- spinning under the\nprotective shield of a showering sprinkler head --\nshooting at all", "RED FLAME radiates from the cloth and DEMONS SHRIEK as\nthey are instantly vaporized.\nJohn tucks his burning hand into a coat pocket,\nextinguishes the flame. He leans down to a rubbery stain\nleft from one of the burnt demon carcasses. Shakes his\nhead in disbelief.\n\n JOHN\n\n (to himself)\n 'I accidentally crossed over?' I\n don't think so.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (coming up behind)", "ORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis dying. Eyes are starting to close as...\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - GABRIEL\n\nRaises the Spear over Angela's chest.\nHEAR the SOUNDS of a million DEMONS inside of her ready\nto break free --\nHe holds the Spear high above her chest -- readies for\nthe final thrust as --\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR\n\nBulbs flicker as current ramps down and TIME COMES TO A\n\nCOMPLETE", "in one powerful motion --\nsweeps his arm up as he lights his hand.\nSacred cloth catches fire -- then IGNITES with a\nbrilliant retina-searing FLASH -- blinding Angela and\nilluminating a --\n-- CIRCLE OF WINGED DEMONS -- a roiling broth of\nreptilian death -- right there -- ready to pounce.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 53.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n", "vinced)\n Because he's got the Spear?\n\n JOHN\n\n And the bridge.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n You're giving this girl way too\n much credit.\n\n JOHN\n\n You don't know her.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n And you do? That would be a\n first.\nJohn swings open a STORAGE ROOM DOOR -- looks in at\nlarge-scale relics -- statues, props, etc.\n\n ", "once again.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're trying to teach us a\n lesson?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No, I'm giving you the chance to\n rise above the suffering and truly\n earn the love of God.\n (a beat)\n The road to salvation begins\n tonight. Right now.\nJohn just stares at this rogue angel, centers on the\nSpear in his hand. He makes a break for it. Gabriel's\nwings beat once.\nThe GUST BLOWS", "RISTIAN RELICS\n\nare removed from a display cabinet.\nThere's the pure platinum Flask of Divinity, the\npetrified husk from the River of Life -- the hollow shaft\nof an iron cross -- all striking pieces individually but\nwhen twisted and locked together form a very imposing --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 81.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n-- HOLY SHOTGUN.\n\nHe swings the cross down, pours a", " ANGELA\n\n I don't believe in demons.\n\n JOHN\n\n You should. They believe in us.\nThey pass another streetlamp as it goes bright, then\nblacks out. Both look up.\nThe next LAMP FLARES then FIZZES OUT.\nAngela turns and sees that there are no lights behind\nthem. She looks to John. But he's staring straight\nahead. Because now the light in front of them is FLARING\n\nBRIGHT.\n\n\n JO", "t have the mindset\n for this kind of work.\nThey walk together down the lonely street.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Look, I see terrible things every\n day. A mother drowns her baby. A\n ten-year-old shoots his father.\n But it's not demons, it's the evil\n that men do.\nBehind them, a streetlight BLINKS OUT. Then another.\nThey're not looking back so they don't see it.\n\n JOHN\n\n You", "his old scar. He pauses a\nbeat, closes his eyes. STAY ON his face as he makes one\nswift SLICE movement.\nBut he's in a rush here -- makes that same motion across\nhis other wrist as well.\nWith both wrists purging his life away, John settles back\ninto the corner and waits for the inevitable.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hurry...\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - GABRIEL\n\nreveals the Spear.\n\n\n\n\nC", "steak from a woman's plate but she jerks it\nback so he bites into his arm. She screams as her\nhusband pulls her away.\nHennessey's strength is withering away. Desperate, he\ngrabs a FORK, digs it into his own hand.\nA Hispanic BUSBOY rushes into the room, grabs onto\nHennessey.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n But the worst demons are the ones\n that are allowed to be here -- the\n ones that are half", "\n What was that? I saw wings -- and\n teeth -- they were flying. What\n the hell were those things?!\n\n JOHN\n\n They weren't angels.\nJohn scans the area, trying to think this through.\n\n JOHN\n\n Seplavites, actually. Scavengers\n for the damned.\n (off her lost look)\n Demons?\n\n ANGELA\n\n What? You can't be serious...\n this is impossible...\n\n ", " BALTHAZAR\n\n One more chance...\nShadow darkens and his decimated form shudders.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n Jesus didn't die from being nailed\n to a cross.\n\n\n\n\nEXT./INT. BARRACUDA - MOVING\n\nJohn takes a turn at 70 as Angela stares into John's\nBible.\n\n JOHN\n\n He was finished off by a soldier's\n spear.\nHe points in the Bible" ], [ "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "wayward of his flock\n but it might sound disingenuous.\n\n JOHN\n\n So you're going to make me beg?\nAngela pauses on her way out, looks over.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n It wouldn't help. You've already\n wasted your chance at redemption.\n\n JOHN\n\n What about the minions I've sent\n back, the souls that I've saved --\n that should guarantee my passage\n across --\n\n G", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", " JOHN\n\n Well, what would you do if you\n were sentenced to a prison where\n half the inmates were put there by\n you?\nNot a serene image at all. Angela studies him.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why you? I mean many go to Hell,\n why were you able to escape?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 63.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n", "break down on my\n account.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n What do you want from me? A\n shoulder to cry on?\n\n JOHN\n\n This bastard attacked me right out\n in the open -- on Sepulveda no\n less.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n They don't like you, John. You've\n deported how many back to Hell?\n\n JOHN\n\n That's just it -- this wasn't some\n possession or wayward", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", " 112.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn pries his eyes open...\n\n SATAN\n\n Hello, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're early.\n\n SATAN\n\n You're the one show I wouldn't\n miss.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I've heard.\nSatan sees John's slit wrists.\n\n SATAN\n\n I didn't think you'd make the", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "STOP.\n\nAll we're left with is a distant METALLIC DRONE, like the\nreverberation of a gong struck a thousand years ago.\nJohn lies in that dim half-light. Motionless.\nSomething starts to swirl near him and just like that,\nJohn is no longer alone. Shadow falls over his pathetic\nform.\n\n SATAN (O.S.)\n\n The time has come at last to\n collect your soul.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH", "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --" ], [ "ICONIC, etc. And the globe at the center -- \"CREATOR.\"\nThis is an orrery of the forces of the Universe. And\nit's not moving.\n\n MIDNITE (O.S.)\n\n Et separatur a plasmate tuo, Ut\n num quam laedatur amorsu antiqui\n serpentes...\nJohn steps in through the doors behind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Deciding which color to paint this\n place again?\nPAPPA MIDNITE stands in", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "the jungle he calls an office.\nPart African witch doctor, part savvy businessman. A\nfull six and half feet of solid contradictions.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n You're back early.\n\n JOHN\n\n I got tired of spending your\n money.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 23.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n MIDNITE\n\n But I'm sure you spent enough.\n\n", ".\nJohn tries again. Again Midnite stops him.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n In your condition your body won't\n take much.\n\n JOHN\n\n I just need enough rope to find\n her.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n And if you do -- what then?\n\n JOHN\n\n One goddamn problem at a time --\nJohn shoves past him, plops his ass in the huge chair.\nHis feet dangle off the ground. Midnite stands by,", "only broken by a cough. Midnite sighs, breaks it off.\n\n JOHN\n\n What? -- I didn't blink -- that\n was a cough. You never cough?\nMidnite reaches into his tuxedo jacket and hands over a\nthick stack of HUNDREDS.\n\n JOHN\n\n Better not be any Washingtons in\n here this time.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Why did you cut your trip short?\nJohn stops the counting, actually thinks about it.\n\n", "half breed,\n it was a full-fledged demon.\n Here. On our plane.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Right.\n\n JOHN\n\n I know what I saw.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n You must have just crossed over\n and didn't even realize it --\n\n JOHN\n\n I didn't cross over -- It was on\n this side. Here.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n -- it's wet out, you're wand", " JOHN\n\n Well I do have a certain standard\n of living.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Tell me you found it.\n\n JOHN\n\n I found the vault.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n That's not what I asked.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey, can I help it if Buddhist\n monks don't take bribes?\nMidnite strides toward him when John calmly pulls from\nhis pocket a small ebony and gold REL", "HN\n\n It's bad enough that you let these\n half-breeds in at all but this\n piece of shit --\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Perks of becoming a primary\n investor.\n\n JOHN\n\n What?!\nMidnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Things change, balances shift.\n Get used to it, Constantine.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not while I", "IC. It stops\nMidnite cold.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gotcha.\nA reluctant grin cracks Midnite's stern features. He\ntakes the relic in his thick fingers -- stares\nbreathlessly at a gaunt figure bracing itself against a\ncosmic wind.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Second century depiction of a\n sephiroth in the 4th realm...\n\n JOHN\n\n Right. So we good here?\nMidnite ignores his", "ED:\n\nJohn is somewhat intrigued until the newest relic\ncollides with another and the orrery jams to a halt.\nMidnite deflates, stares at John, suspiciously.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Must I remind you of what selling\n fake relics will do to your\n health?\n\n JOHN\n\n It's authentic, Midnite, you just\n have the wrong piece. Jesus...\nThe two have a mini stare-down. John's rigid poker face\nis", " a few magic bullets to get inside.\nJohn centers on the Sparkletts bottles positioned around\nthe room. Just like John's. Hmmmm...\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 102.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n That ritual you do with the water,\n can you do more than one bottle at\n a time?\nMidnite raises an eyebrow.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. RAVENSC", "break down on my\n account.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n What do you want from me? A\n shoulder to cry on?\n\n JOHN\n\n This bastard attacked me right out\n in the open -- on Sepulveda no\n less.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n They don't like you, John. You've\n deported how many back to Hell?\n\n JOHN\n\n That's just it -- this wasn't some\n possession or wayward", "waves his hand over them, turns the water into\nRED WINE. The ladies are very impressed, drink up.\nNICO, a young black man, walks past John.\n\n NICO\n\n Neighborhood's going to Hell.\nJohn offers a half smile. He likes this kid, walks on.\nOne of the men in the group turns, watches John.\nBalthazar. He grins and pockets that odd COIN.\n\n\n\n\nINT. HALLWAY\n\nJohn starts up a long flight of stairs, stops in front of\ntwo very", ", he\n would have fallen back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n No, he's still here. I'm sure of it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Then watch yourself. He could be\n in anyone out there.\nJohn nods. Midnite lifts a palm of INSECT WINGS in front\nof his face.\n\n JOHN\n\n Roach wings? What happened to\n using lilac pedals -- ?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n", "\n\n JOHN\n\n Where the hell is the chair, you\n dumb shit?!\nMidnite just stands there -- his body inflating past it's\nseven feet. John knows he went too far.\n\n JOHN\n\n That was the cancer talking, you\n know that, right?\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (holds up his finger)\n Once.\nJohn nods.\n\n\n\n\nINT. STORAGE AREA\n\nFluorescents flicker, REVEAL boxes", "him and he rocks to the floor. Dead. Body reveals the\nSpear on the blanket of the bed.\nJohn reaches out to touch it when the boy BARRY suddenly\nSITS UP from under the blanket and grabs him by the\nthroat. NOTE the boy's BLACKENED FINGERNAILS.\nJohn struggles to pull him off but the boy's grip is\nlocked tight. John grabs at his hands -- chokes out the\nname --\n\n JOHN\n\n\n MIDNITE!!\n\nJohn's hands suddenly", "casting blocks.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n You better worry about whoever's\n helping him.\nJohn gives the big guy a glance, dips one of the castings\ninto a pot of water -- HISSSSSS.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n As much as I admire your blind\n faith even in the most dire\n situations -- expecting to just\n waltz into a facility that is\n about to become the floodgate of\n Hell is reaching a bit, even for\n you.\nJohn stops the work", "my\n entire night.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 25.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn takes several steps toward him. Grins. Malevolent.\nThere's history here.\n\n JOHN\n\n I'll make your night -- I'll\n deport your sorry ass right where\n you stand --\n\n MIDNITE\n\n\n JOHN.\n\nJohn stops in his tracks.\n\n JO", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "\n Bastard changed the code again.\n (bangs the doors)\n Midnite! Come on, do I have to\n huff and puff here?!\nThe doors unlatch.\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S OFFICE\n\nSWEEP ACROSS a meticulously-crafted ORRERY, a scientific\nsculpture that normally displays our solar system in\nrelative motion. But the planets here are ancient RELICS\nwith symbols and names -- MATERIAL, ASTRAL, SPIRITUAL,\n" ], [ "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "\n\n\n\n 71.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n No. The other one.\n (off her look)\n Lucifer had a son too.\n\n\n\n\nINT. 20 LANES - BEHIND THE LANES\n\nBeeman sits under the glow of a desk lamp. The narrow\nalley of machines stretches out behind him. He stares\ninto the scrolls -- an ancient book with a single page\nfolded a thousand times. Turn", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", ". He stops at a LONG\nMIRROR on one wall. Adjusts his collar, his hair. His\n\"look.\"\n\n PRETTY BOY\n\n What are we pushing today, sir?\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Phillip Morris.\nAs Balthazar admires himself, his reflection distorts\nslightly. The demon in him? He touches his face, does a\nvowel stretch. His face distorts even further.\nThat's got him moving closer to the mirror.\nBalthazar's", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "t have the mindset\n for this kind of work.\nThey walk together down the lonely street.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Look, I see terrible things every\n day. A mother drowns her baby. A\n ten-year-old shoots his father.\n But it's not demons, it's the evil\n that men do.\nBehind them, a streetlight BLINKS OUT. Then another.\nThey're not looking back so they don't see it.\n\n JOHN\n\n You", "his brain going into overdrive.\n\n JOHN\n\n Symbol isn't a demon's... that's\n why I couldn't place it... not a\n normal possession...\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, what are you talking about?\n\n JOHN\n\n But he can't cross over --\n impossible for the son to cross\n over...\n\n ANGELA\n\n Whose son? God's?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl" ], [ "JOHN\n\n Yeah...\n (to himself)\n And I don't think they were after\n me...\nJohn looks at her with renewed interest.\n\n JOHN\n\n You really believe she wouldn't\n commit suicide?\n\n ANGELA\n\n (a bit thrown)\n My sister?\n (a beat)\n Never in a million years.\nJohn makes the decision.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 5", " (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 77.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n Dammit, John -- they killed my\n sister!\nThat stops him cold.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I can't let them get away with\n that. Even if it means going down\n the same path she did. Now if you\n won't help me get there, I'll find\n my own way. But I won'", "didn't\n you?\nJohn meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (walking towards him)\n You see something in me...\n Something Isabel had.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go home, Angela.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I need to understand --\nJohn just shakes his head.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why not?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because you open up to that world,\n you", "\n them in... I sent them right to\n their deaths... a damn one-man\n plague.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, you need a doctor.\n\n JOHN\n\n I've seen a goddamn doctor!!\nAngela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.\nJohn stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.\n\n JOHN\n\n Get away from me!!\n\n ANGELA\n\n John?\n\n JO", "t run.\n Never.\nThe two stand there -- locked in this moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Please...\nJohn can't believe this day -- looks her dead in the eye.\n\n JOHN\n\n You do this, there's no turning\n back. You see them -- they see\n you. Understand?\nAngela never blinks as she nods in agreement.\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT - LATER\n\nPushing slowly through a lifeless apartment -- drawing\n", "73.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn sits back, gut churning. Angela's in detective mode.\n\n ANGELA\n\n She knew. That's why she killed\n herself. But it doesn't make\n sense...\n\n JOHN\n\n Makes sense to me.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, she sacrificed herself to\n beat him.\nJohn nods. Your point?\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why is", "those eyes. He reaches\ninto his coat pocket as he walks up to her. She shudders\nas his arms wrap around her face and for a beat they're\ncheek to cheek. When he pulls back she sees he has\nclipped Hennessey's AMULET around her neck.\n\n JOHN\n\n Think of it as a bulletproof vest.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So I'm going.\n\n JOHN\n\n (knows he can't win)\n You're staying in", "walking toward her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?\n (off no answer)\n How about what comes out of each?\nAngela keeps walking. He catches up with her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey!\n\n ANGELA\n\n You mean like angels?\n\n JOHN\n\n And demons.\nAngela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.\n\n JOHN\n\n See, you don'", "\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n I don't know!\n\n JOHN\n\n What would you do?\nAngela backs into a wall. Nowhere else to go now.\n\n JOHN\n\n What would you leave her? What\n would it be? Where would it be?!\n Where would it be?\nAngela lashes out, shoves John hard, pushing him out of\nher way. She turns to the window, almost hyperventilating.\nJohn stays back, watches", "I remember.\n\n ANGELA\n\n And --\n\n JOHN\n\n Yeah.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 47.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nShe did make an impression.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'd like to ask you a few\n questions.\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm not really in the talking mood\n right now.\n\n ANGELA", "walking. Wants out of here\nfast.\n\n\n\n\nINT. RAVENSCAR - HALLWAY\n\nAngela is on the move. Emotions are coming in strong.\nShe can't get out of here fast enough.\nShe aims for the elevators, sees a MAN has just entered\none.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (rushing toward it)\n Wait, hold the door!\nAngela, gets to the elevator, looks in. John stands\ninside alone. This should be the first time we realize\nthey", " (sips tea)\n I don't know.\n\n ANGELA\n\n God has a plan for all of us.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not for me.\nJohn's bitterness is obvious. Angela just stares at\nhim -- finally --\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel saw things too.\nJohn looks up. Moment is lost when her CELLULAR RINGS.\nThe cop in her reacts, flips it open.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Detect", "'d start a sentence, she'd\n finish it. You'd get hurt, she'd\n cry.\n\n ANGELA\n\n That was a long time ago...\n\n JOHN\n\n That kind of bond doesn't just\n disappear.\n\n ANGELA\n\n There's nothing here.\nAngela seems unbalanced. John gets more aggressive.\n\n JOHN\n\n She planned her death in this\n room, she thought it up right\n where you'", "re standing --\nAngela backs away. John advances.\n\n JOHN\n\n She knew you'd come -- She counted\n on you to see what she saw, to\n feel what she felt -- to do what\n she did. What did she do, Angela?\n\n ANGELA\n\n How should I know?\n\n JOHN\n\n What did she do, Angela?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 68.\n\n\n\n\n", "\n\n Could you just listen then?\nAngela sets her LAPD detective badge on the table.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Please?\n\n JOHN\n\n Always a catch...\nAngela sits across from him, puts the badge away.\n\n ANGELA\n\n My sister was murdered last week.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sorry to hear...\n\n ANGELA\n\n Her name was Isabel. Isabel\n Dodson?\nShe looks for a reaction. ", "\n assistance. The help of God.\nAngela sits back, letting that sink in.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So it's impossible.\n\n JOHN\n\n Impossible? Sure it's impossible.\n That's what makes it so dangerous.\n These things exist to break the\n rules, to find the loopholes. If\n the past is any indication, then\n the future isn't on our side.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n ", " (beat)\n That about right?\nThe words have hit so hard that Angela is speechless.\nJohn sees the hurt in her eyes, would like to take it\nback -- but it's too late.\nShe turns and starts out, slows --\n\n ANGELA\n\n You're not the only one afraid of\n Hell.\nJohn tries not to let that get to him. She leaves. He\nglances out the window, watches her pass by. So long.\nGood riddance.\nBut something's not right. Those deep", " JOHN\n\n Maybe she left something else.\n Something more personal. Just for\n you.\nAngela doesn't like that look he's giving her.\n\n JOHN\n\n You were her twin, Angela. Twins\n tend to think alike.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm not like my sister.\n\n JOHN\n\n But you were at once time. When\n you were kids. When you'd spend\n every waking hour with each other.\n You", "coming...\nShe stares at her surroundings with an increasing sense\nof dread. Then hears the RUMBLE and TIRES SCREECHING.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 88.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nAngela spins, spots John's BARRACUDA exploding around the\ncorner. It barrels up the street and slides to a\nSQUEALING stop in front of her. Passenger door swings\nopen.\n\n JO", "death,\n talking on and on about\n Revelations and the end of the\n world. Then one day she just\n stopped... never said another\n word.\n\n JOHN\n\n So you put her in here.\nAngela doesn't need to be reminded. It hurts even more now.\n\n JOHN\n\n Show me her room.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn and Angela head toward Isabel's room. A NURSE\nappears from around the corner walking with a" ], [ "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "\n\n\nEXT. HELL LOS ANGELES\n\nJohn walks out onto the top overpass of a crumbling maze\nof intersecting freeways. Burnt-out husks of long-\nforgotten vehicles sit in rows of gridlock. A low DRONE\npenetrates the silence.\n\n JOHN\n\n Is she here?\nOn the horizon is a dying RED SUN. It strains to cut\nthrough the putrid brown haze.\n\n JOHN\n\n Is she here?!\nHis VOICE", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "walking toward her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?\n (off no answer)\n How about what comes out of each?\nAngela keeps walking. He catches up with her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey!\n\n ANGELA\n\n You mean like angels?\n\n JOHN\n\n And demons.\nAngela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.\n\n JOHN\n\n See, you don'", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "she in Hell?\nOne of those rare moments where John has no answer.\n\n\n\n\nINT. 20 LANES BOWLING ALLEY\n\nSomething small and SHINY is rolling down the alley. It\nlands in the trough, spins round and round --\nBeeman leans out to try and see what it is. The silver\nobject keeps spinning.\nHe waits for it to stop, swats a fly near his face. Then\nanother.\nBook on his desk ignites in flame.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. 2", " JOHN\n\n Well, what would you do if you\n were sentenced to a prison where\n half the inmates were put there by\n you?\nNot a serene image at all. Angela studies him.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why you? I mean many go to Hell,\n why were you able to escape?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 63.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "a 70-year-old porcelain BATHTUB. Angela\nstands in the center.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 78.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why water?\n\n JOHN\n\n It's the universal conduit.\n Lubricates the transition from one\n plane to another. Now ask me if\n there's water in Hell.\nJohn turns off the fauc", "is suddenly caught in a ghostly dim half-light and John\nhas now crossed over into --\n\n\n\n\nAPARTMENT IN HELL\n\nSame layout, different decorator. John takes a deep,\nraspy breath, slowly stands. He turns to the wall behind\nhim which is torn away, looking like some half-bombed\nstructure in Beirut.\nBeyond the wall is no longer the blackness of a\nnightscape but a sickly sepia glow. Not quite day, not\nquite night.\nJohn steps over the crumbling wall into --\n\n", "David -- this is Isabel.\n (meeting his eyes)\n Please...\nFather Garret stares at her, tries to be compassionate.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n I'll talk to him again.\nBut Angela has just lost a load of faith.\n\n\n\n\nBY THE FIREPLACE\n\nGabriel sits in his chair, watches the fire with\nunblinking eyes. John approaches from behind and against\nthe backdrop of flame, sees the nebulous shape of wings.\nThe ghostly image is visible for", "there, John... please...\nSomething shivers up Hennessey's leg and into his body.\nEyes glaze over and Hennessey settles on a RESTAURANT.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 61.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n Heaven and Hell are right here,\n behind every wall, every face --\n the world behind the world. It's\n crossing over that's the", "REVERBERATES to infinity.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 56.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn cautiously steps closer to the railing, looks down\nto the ribbons of twisting streets below. They're\ncrammed with teeming masses of the damned. All walking\ndown in silence, faces numb with sorrow and grief.\n\n JOHN\n\n\n IS SHE HERE?!\n\nThat low DRONE RISE", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", ", he\n would have fallen back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n No, he's still here. I'm sure of it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Then watch yourself. He could be\n in anyone out there.\nJohn nods. Midnite lifts a palm of INSECT WINGS in front\nof his face.\n\n JOHN\n\n Roach wings? What happened to\n using lilac pedals -- ?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n", "4.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Let's be sure.\nHe starts walking. Angela is now compelled to follow.\n\n ANGELA\n\n How?\n\n JOHN\n\n Simple. See if she's in Hell.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. L.A. COUNTY MORGUE - NIGHT\n\nNot exactly an inviting place.\nHennessey steps off the curb, looks up at his\ndestination.\n\n\n", "didn't\n you?\nJohn meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (walking towards him)\n You see something in me...\n Something Isabel had.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go home, Angela.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I need to understand --\nJohn just shakes his head.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why not?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because you open up to that world,\n you", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n" ], [ "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "once again.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're trying to teach us a\n lesson?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No, I'm giving you the chance to\n rise above the suffering and truly\n earn the love of God.\n (a beat)\n The road to salvation begins\n tonight. Right now.\nJohn just stares at this rogue angel, centers on the\nSpear in his hand. He makes a break for it. Gabriel's\nwings beat once.\nThe GUST BLOWS", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "David -- this is Isabel.\n (meeting his eyes)\n Please...\nFather Garret stares at her, tries to be compassionate.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n I'll talk to him again.\nBut Angela has just lost a load of faith.\n\n\n\n\nBY THE FIREPLACE\n\nGabriel sits in his chair, watches the fire with\nunblinking eyes. John approaches from behind and against\nthe backdrop of flame, sees the nebulous shape of wings.\nThe ghostly image is visible for", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", "in one powerful motion --\nsweeps his arm up as he lights his hand.\nSacred cloth catches fire -- then IGNITES with a\nbrilliant retina-searing FLASH -- blinding Angela and\nilluminating a --\n-- CIRCLE OF WINGED DEMONS -- a roiling broth of\nreptilian death -- right there -- ready to pounce.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 53.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n", "\nSOUND draws his attention to the one thing that could\ncause him even greater rage --\n\nGABRIEL --\n\nis hunched over near a wall. Jagged cartilage stumps\nprotrude from his back. A pattern of sinew and bone is\nburned into the floor behind him. It's all that remains\nof his once majestic wings.\nJohn approaches, spots blood dripping from the former angel.\nHe realizes what this means. Gets a kick out of it.\n\n JOHN\n\n Human...\nGabriel", "can't\nbreak his hold. He's choking, frantically rummages\nthrough his coat pockets. Comes out with those sacred\nGOLD KNUCKLES on his right hand.\nBalthazar tightens his grip and John swings, clocks him\nacross the face. The enhanced punch sends a dizzying\nripple throughout Balthazar's body.\nBut he doesn't let go. John is choking, starts whaling\non him. Again and again -- each punch weakening this\ndemon more.\nJohn finally", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "John through the double doors, back into\nthe --\n\n\n\n\n 110.\n\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR\n\n-- where he smashes against a mesh-screened window, drops\nto the floor in a heap with the other dying carcasses.\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM\n\nGabriel turns back to Angela. He approaches her -- his\nrippling wings sliding up around her, enveloping her --\npulling her in. Those eyes of his could melt Dracula.\n\n", "presume to judge me, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n Betrayal, murder, genocide? Call\n me provincial.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I am seeking to inspire humankind\n to be all that was intended.\n\n JOHN\n\n By unleashing Hell on Earth? Good\n thinking...\nGabriel's wings fold behind as he walks around John.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 109.\n", "only a heartbeat.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n (without looking back)\n I know what you want, son.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 38.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn sits across from him.\n\n JOHN\n\n Been keeping your all-seeing eye\n on me, have you?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I could offer how a shepherd leads\n even the most", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 37.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n So you're rude no matter where you\n are.\nJohn gives her a look. The two men shake hands and start\nto part. John and Angela make their move toward the men.\nBoth are surprised when Angela goes for Father Garret and\nJohn goes for --\n-- the SNOB, officially known as GABRIEL. Yes, that one.\n", "looks up as John retrieves a gun from the wet\nfloor.\n\n JOHN\n\n You don't deserve to be human.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Then pass judgment on me now.\nJohn raises the gun -- puts it to Gabriel's forehead.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Do it. Seek revenge. End my\n life.\nJohn's finger nudges the trigger.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Kill me! Pull the trigger! Be\n the hand of God" ], [ "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "-- clasps a hand over her mouth -- cutting off her air\nsupply.\n\n JOHN\n\n Back to Hell, asshole --\nHer body undulates as Mammon's shape tries to come through.\nPulsating through her arms, her chest -- her face.\nAngela BITES into his palm. John recoils. She shoves\nhim off and John hits the tile hard. Angela jumps from\nthe tank, pushes past in a blur. John spins to see\nMidnite standing right there -- Angela now firmly in his\nsize-tw", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "dormant pin\nmachines.\nHe stops at lane 13, leans way way down, past the\nmachinery and peeks out the pin hole.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n John?\n\n\n\n\n 72.\n\n\n\n\n\nEXT. LA STREETS - NIGHT\n\nAngela's SUV races quickly through traffic while John\ngets her up to speed.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n The myth says Mammon was conceived\n before his father's", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "MAMMON (O.S.)\n\n Angela.\nAngela SPINS and for a split second comes face to face\nwith the hideous form of MAMMON. She SCREAMS.\n\n\n\n\nINT. NORMAL PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - REAL TIME\n\nJohn and Midnite burst into the room, spot Barry standing\nin the tank. His hands in the water. On Angela.\n\n JOHN\n\n (rushing toward him)\n Barry!\nBarry looks up, sees the two men rushing", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", "\n\n\n\n 71.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n No. The other one.\n (off her look)\n Lucifer had a son too.\n\n\n\n\nINT. 20 LANES - BEHIND THE LANES\n\nBeeman sits under the glow of a desk lamp. The narrow\nalley of machines stretches out behind him. He stares\ninto the scrolls -- an ancient book with a single page\nfolded a thousand times. Turn", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH", "\n Bastard changed the code again.\n (bangs the doors)\n Midnite! Come on, do I have to\n huff and puff here?!\nThe doors unlatch.\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S OFFICE\n\nSWEEP ACROSS a meticulously-crafted ORRERY, a scientific\nsculpture that normally displays our solar system in\nrelative motion. But the planets here are ancient RELICS\nwith symbols and names -- MATERIAL, ASTRAL, SPIRITUAL,\n", "t have the mindset\n for this kind of work.\nThey walk together down the lonely street.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Look, I see terrible things every\n day. A mother drowns her baby. A\n ten-year-old shoots his father.\n But it's not demons, it's the evil\n that men do.\nBehind them, a streetlight BLINKS OUT. Then another.\nThey're not looking back so they don't see it.\n\n JOHN\n\n You" ], [ "wait for John to do the deed.\nHe puts the blade to his wrist -- one swipe and the world\naround him accelerates away in a STREAKED BLUR --\n\n\n\n\nINT. DINER (PRESENT)\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n But you're still here. Alive.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not my doing.\nHis chest suddenly HEAVES forward -- and we're on...\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN\n\nas he's j", "73.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn sits back, gut churning. Angela's in detective mode.\n\n ANGELA\n\n She knew. That's why she killed\n herself. But it doesn't make\n sense...\n\n JOHN\n\n Makes sense to me.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, she sacrificed herself to\n beat him.\nJohn nods. Your point?\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why is", "JOHN\n\n Yeah...\n (to himself)\n And I don't think they were after\n me...\nJohn looks at her with renewed interest.\n\n JOHN\n\n You really believe she wouldn't\n commit suicide?\n\n ANGELA\n\n (a bit thrown)\n My sister?\n (a beat)\n Never in a million years.\nJohn makes the decision.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 5", " 112.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn pries his eyes open...\n\n SATAN\n\n Hello, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're early.\n\n SATAN\n\n You're the one show I wouldn't\n miss.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I've heard.\nSatan sees John's slit wrists.\n\n SATAN\n\n I didn't think you'd make the", "someone trying to pull\n teeth that weren't there.\nYoung John clamps his eyes shut tight.\n\n\n\n\n 59.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. DINER - JOHN (PRESENT)\n\nPresent-day John does the same, remembering the pain.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I took things into my own hands\n and I found a way out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n You attempted suicide.\nJohn sees she's looking at his wrist. The hint of a\n", "\n fails to grasp is that if she had\n really taken her own life --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 49.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- she would have committed a\n mortal sin and her soul would have\n gone straight to Hell where it\n would never feel love or\n compassion or anything but pain\n again as the master himself rips\n her apart over and over for the\n rest of eternity.\n", "jagged scar can now be seen under the sleeve.\n\n JOHN\n\n I never attempt anything.\nJohn's reflection in the window becomes --\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN\n\nkneeling with a pair off scissors. He's inside a...\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLASSROOM\n\nTeenage John looks up at a room filled with people from\nall walks of life. Teachers, doctors, lawyers, garbage\nmen. All somewhat different than normal. They sit in\nschool chairs and", "\n them in... I sent them right to\n their deaths... a damn one-man\n plague.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, you need a doctor.\n\n JOHN\n\n I've seen a goddamn doctor!!\nAngela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.\nJohn stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.\n\n JOHN\n\n Get away from me!!\n\n ANGELA\n\n John?\n\n JO", "'d start a sentence, she'd\n finish it. You'd get hurt, she'd\n cry.\n\n ANGELA\n\n That was a long time ago...\n\n JOHN\n\n That kind of bond doesn't just\n disappear.\n\n ANGELA\n\n There's nothing here.\nAngela seems unbalanced. John gets more aggressive.\n\n JOHN\n\n She planned her death in this\n room, she thought it up right\n where you'", "John tries to stay cool -- fails. He TRASHES the X-ray\nboxes. Diseased lungs disappear. Doc shakes his head.\n\n DR. ARCHER\n\n Twenty years ago you didn't want\n to be here. Now you don't want to\n leave.\n\n JOHN\n\n That's because I know exactly\n where I'm going this time.\n\n\n\n\nINT. HALLWAY\n\nJohn steps outside of the Doctor's office, pauses to\ngather himself. He starts", "JOHN (V.O.)\n\n The revered Father made the\n brilliant deduction that I was\n possessed, said I needed to be\n exorcised...\n\n\n\n\nINT. ROOM - HIGH ANGLE\n\nThe Doctor runs in. Sees the revered Father below,\nleaning over a bed where an 18-year-old John is held down\nby three interns and that Doctor. John angrily screams\nat them all.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n It was like", "in agony. Satan tears through his tissue --\ncollecting the cancer, then ripping out a mass of\ndiseased tissue with one vengeful pull. John's final\nblood-curdling SCREAM ECHOES over --\n\n\n\n\nINT./EXT. RAVENSCAR\n\n-- through every room. Every corridor. Rippling out\nacross the ground and finally dissipating in the hills\nbeyond.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nOn his hands and knees, John takes that first breath.\n", "ying in a\ncold, sterile room of death. A Hell of a different type.\nHennessey stares down at her, looks around the room\nagain, makes sure he's still alone.\nHe reaches in, rips open the protective plastic and\nlowers his hand inside. Places it first on her forehead.\nNothing. Then on her chest. Nothing. Wrist is last.\nHennessey shudders. This is it.\nHe closes his eyes and opens himself to the void --\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n When", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "behind him, unlit cigarette butt in its mouth.\n\n OLD MAN\n\n (coughs)\n We gotta stick together, right?\nJohn gathers himself. As he walks over to this OLD MAN,\nhe rummages through his coat pocket, retrieves a\nmatchbox.\nThe box shudders as a high-pitch FLUTTERING filters from\ninside. Old Man winces as his entire body VIBRATES.\nJohn realizes -- this is Beeman's matchbox, the one with\nthe sc", "but it's\nway too noisy to hear. All we see are the emotions on\nBeeman's face. No doubt news of Hennessey's death is one\nof the biggies.\nBeeman quickly reaches for a marker, puts it to paper and\nstarts drawing -- listening and drawing --\nHe's finished, hangs up. Stares at the Symbol. That\ncabinet with the ancient books now gets his attention.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n I need to see where Isabel died.\n\n\n\n\nEXT.", "protective amulet he\nhimself removed from his friend. That's even more\ncrushing.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 64.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Shit...\n (sympathetic)\n Why didn't you call me, you fat\n sonna bitch...\nJohn lowers his head, then spots blood stains on one of\nHennessey's hands. He opens the fingers, studies the\nf", ".\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 76.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nDown on the street are several police vehicles. ENGINES\nSTART and they drive away. Swirl of blue and red lights\nflash across John's moist eyes.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n There were no trees in our back\n yard.\nJohn finds Angela across the room in his doorway.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But you knew that already,", "s\nnever seen, is already flipping through it.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Where did that come from?\n\n JOHN\n\n (stopping to read)\n 13:29. 13:30 -- Here...\n Corinthians 14:01...\n (skimming to this)\n 'The sins of the father would only\n be exceeded by the ego of the\n son.'\n\n ANGELA\n\n Whose son?\nJohn stands,", "\n My parents sent me to a doctor, a\n shrink, a priest. I was in four\n different institutions by the time\n I was eighteen.\nAngela notes him rubbing his wrist.\n\n JOHN\n\n The last place they put me was run\n by a church...\nA DOCTOR rushes past their table. PAN WITH him INTO...\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - INT. MENTAL INSTITUTION - HALLWAY\n\nThe Doctor rushes toward distant SCREAMING.\n\n " ], [ "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "has no patience for politeness, no time for tact,\nno fear of anything.\nThis man is JOHN CONSTANTINE.\nHe arrives at his destination, barges into --\n\n\n\n\n 5.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. APARTMENT 7B\n\nOne scan of the situation is all it takes. The bed --\nthe child -- the panicked priest -- who rushes to John.\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n (whispering)\n Thank God you're here...\nJohn shoot", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "\n\nINT. LAPD OFFICE - LATER\n\nThe name JOHN CONSTANTINE is center screen on a\nmonitor -- typed into the police station's SEARCH ENGINE.\nAngela sits alone in the squad room, rain streaking\nacross the windows.\nInterpol comes back with results and a list of priors\nscroll under John's name.\nMust be a hundred PARKING VIOLATIONS. Several SPEEDING\ntickets and a few RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT. In fact John's\nlicense has been REV", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "HN\n\n It's bad enough that you let these\n half-breeds in at all but this\n piece of shit --\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Perks of becoming a primary\n investor.\n\n JOHN\n\n What?!\nMidnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Things change, balances shift.\n Get used to it, Constantine.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not while I", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "\n\n\n\n\nLIBRARY\n\nJohn stops, fixes on the two gentlemen standing in front\nof a fireplace. One is a young man of pure class wrapped\nin Armani's best. The other is Father Garret.\nJohn stands to the side and waits for their conversation\nto end. An ATTENDANT makes the rounds.\n\n ATTENDANT\n\n Can I take your coat, Mr.\n Constantine?\n\n JOHN\n\n No thanks, I'm not staying long.\n\n AT", "studies it a bit, then sits back in a chair with it.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Don't you need candles and a\n pentagram for this to work?\n\n JOHN\n\n (deadpan)\n Why, do you have any?\nJohn puts his feet, shoes and all into a BUCKET OF WATER.\n\n JOHN\n\n I need you to step outside now.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 55.", "IC. It stops\nMidnite cold.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gotcha.\nA reluctant grin cracks Midnite's stern features. He\ntakes the relic in his thick fingers -- stares\nbreathlessly at a gaunt figure bracing itself against a\ncosmic wind.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Second century depiction of a\n sephiroth in the 4th realm...\n\n JOHN\n\n Right. So we good here?\nMidnite ignores his", " JOHN\n\n I don't know... Just a feeling --\nJohn suddenly spins toward the entrance doors, is stunned\nto see --\n\n JOHN\n\n Balthazar.\nBalthazar is behind him. Utterly confident. Chillingly\nso.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n We're not still whining about\n Manhattan, are we?\nJohn's attempt to disguise his anger fails.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n That expression alone has made", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "of\n all your sins...'\nHe places a hand on Balthazar's forehead. Balthazar\nglares at it as John's voice rises with commanding\nauthority.\n\n JOHN\n\n 'Whosoever sins you remit on earth\n they are remitted unto them in\n heaven. I absolve you from -- '\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n -- It may not even work...\n\n JOHN\n\n How? How's he doing it?!\nBalth", "empty room, sees a large SHADOW\non the ceiling that doesn't belong to any object.\nHe holds back a cough long enough to rip up his sleeves\nand slams those tattoos together --\n\n JOHN\n\n Into the light I command thee!\n Into the light I command thee!\nIt takes every ounce of John's life force to keep this\nspell alive and when he's about to drop from exhaustion\nthe shadow is brought fully into the light -- becomes\nthat familiar shape of WINGS.\n\n VO", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", "\n JOHN\n\n How's he doing it, you half-breed\n shit?!\nJohn swings the flame aside so he can KICK Balthazar\nagainst the wall. But now his WEAPON SPUTTERS. Shit.\nCharcoal hand thrusts out, bats away the shotgun and\ngrabs John by the throat.\nBalthazar rises from the ashes. He may be burned, but\nhe's one tough son of a bitch.\nBalthazar slides John up a wall by his neck. John", "waves his hand over them, turns the water into\nRED WINE. The ladies are very impressed, drink up.\nNICO, a young black man, walks past John.\n\n NICO\n\n Neighborhood's going to Hell.\nJohn offers a half smile. He likes this kid, walks on.\nOne of the men in the group turns, watches John.\nBalthazar. He grins and pockets that odd COIN.\n\n\n\n\nINT. HALLWAY\n\nJohn starts up a long flight of stairs, stops in front of\ntwo very", "RED FLAME radiates from the cloth and DEMONS SHRIEK as\nthey are instantly vaporized.\nJohn tucks his burning hand into a coat pocket,\nextinguishes the flame. He leans down to a rubbery stain\nleft from one of the burnt demon carcasses. Shakes his\nhead in disbelief.\n\n JOHN\n\n (to himself)\n 'I accidentally crossed over?' I\n don't think so.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (coming up behind)" ], [ "JOHN (V.O.)\n\n The revered Father made the\n brilliant deduction that I was\n possessed, said I needed to be\n exorcised...\n\n\n\n\nINT. ROOM - HIGH ANGLE\n\nThe Doctor runs in. Sees the revered Father below,\nleaning over a bed where an 18-year-old John is held down\nby three interns and that Doctor. John angrily screams\nat them all.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n It was like", "wait for John to do the deed.\nHe puts the blade to his wrist -- one swipe and the world\naround him accelerates away in a STREAKED BLUR --\n\n\n\n\nINT. DINER (PRESENT)\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n But you're still here. Alive.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not my doing.\nHis chest suddenly HEAVES forward -- and we're on...\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN\n\nas he's j", "CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 58.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n WAITRESS (O.S.)\n\n Coffee?\nYoung John looks up toward the voice --\n\n\n\n\nINT. DINER - NIGHT (PRESENT)\n\nJohn looks up at the Waitress.\n\n JOHN\n\n Tea.\nShe leaves. Angela sits across from him. They're at the\ntable by the window.\n\n JOHN\n", "jagged scar can now be seen under the sleeve.\n\n JOHN\n\n I never attempt anything.\nJohn's reflection in the window becomes --\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - TEENAGE JOHN\n\nkneeling with a pair off scissors. He's inside a...\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLASSROOM\n\nTeenage John looks up at a room filled with people from\nall walks of life. Teachers, doctors, lawyers, garbage\nmen. All somewhat different than normal. They sit in\nschool chairs and", "studies it a bit, then sits back in a chair with it.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Don't you need candles and a\n pentagram for this to work?\n\n JOHN\n\n (deadpan)\n Why, do you have any?\nJohn puts his feet, shoes and all into a BUCKET OF WATER.\n\n JOHN\n\n I need you to step outside now.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 55.", "at a detailed painting of the\nevent -- Jesus hanging on the cross -- being pierced by a\nsoldier's spear. It matches that child's drawing John\nremoved from the fridge -- now lying on his seat.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm Catholic, John -- I know the\n crucifixion story.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 89.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Then", "steps onto the polished\nwood with his well-traveled Oxfords.\nYoung bowlers on both sides stop to look at this oddity.\nAn attractive brunette is rather curious. John gives her\na wink. Her boyfriend doesn't appreciate it.\nJohn bowls. Perfect hook ball. Strike! Brunette grins.\nJohn returns the smile, heads into the hallway by the\npool tables.\n\n\n\n\n 16.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT\n\nSeems small until you", "s\nnever seen, is already flipping through it.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Where did that come from?\n\n JOHN\n\n (stopping to read)\n 13:29. 13:30 -- Here...\n Corinthians 14:01...\n (skimming to this)\n 'The sins of the father would only\n be exceeded by the ego of the\n son.'\n\n ANGELA\n\n Whose son?\nJohn stands,", "suddenly reacts to one -- tries to look\naway.\nJohn stares at the Saint responsible, seems genuinely\npuzzled. He turns to the Mother -- very serious.\n\n JOHN\n\n I need a mirror. Now.\nShaken, the Mother produces a small compact. John pushes\nit away, turns to the doorway crowd.\n\n JOHN\n\n A large mirror. At least --\n (sizes up the child)\n -- three feet high.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n", "in agony. Satan tears through his tissue --\ncollecting the cancer, then ripping out a mass of\ndiseased tissue with one vengeful pull. John's final\nblood-curdling SCREAM ECHOES over --\n\n\n\n\nINT./EXT. RAVENSCAR\n\n-- through every room. Every corridor. Rippling out\nacross the ground and finally dissipating in the hills\nbeyond.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nOn his hands and knees, John takes that first breath.\n", "someone trying to pull\n teeth that weren't there.\nYoung John clamps his eyes shut tight.\n\n\n\n\n 59.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. DINER - JOHN (PRESENT)\n\nPresent-day John does the same, remembering the pain.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I took things into my own hands\n and I found a way out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n You attempted suicide.\nJohn sees she's looking at his wrist. The hint of a\n", "JOHN\n\n Yeah...\n (to himself)\n And I don't think they were after\n me...\nJohn looks at her with renewed interest.\n\n JOHN\n\n You really believe she wouldn't\n commit suicide?\n\n ANGELA\n\n (a bit thrown)\n My sister?\n (a beat)\n Never in a million years.\nJohn makes the decision.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 5", "looking back at a mother holding her\nson in her arms. A younger and more noble Father\nHennessey stands beside them, looking grateful.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 45.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nAnother line -- \"INSUFFICIENT EVIDENCE to PROSECUTE.\"\nAngela scrolls, sees cities listed where John has made\nwaves -- LONDON -- PARIS -- ROME -- BUDAPEST -- MOSCOW.\nStops on", ".\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 76.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nDown on the street are several police vehicles. ENGINES\nSTART and they drive away. Swirl of blue and red lights\nflash across John's moist eyes.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n There were no trees in our back\n yard.\nJohn finds Angela across the room in his doorway.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But you knew that already,", "\n My parents sent me to a doctor, a\n shrink, a priest. I was in four\n different institutions by the time\n I was eighteen.\nAngela notes him rubbing his wrist.\n\n JOHN\n\n The last place they put me was run\n by a church...\nA DOCTOR rushes past their table. PAN WITH him INTO...\n\n\n\n\nFLASHBACK - INT. MENTAL INSTITUTION - HALLWAY\n\nThe Doctor rushes toward distant SCREAMING.\n\n ", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "and\nsits back.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 13.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Los Angeles...\nHe looks back up at the apartment, still puzzled.\n\n JOHN\n\n Never ceases to entertain.\nChaz crams the car in gear as John takes a drag, coughs.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. THE SKY\n\nOne of those perfect days. With perfect clouds. So\nclear you", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "al families sit in solemn prayer. The pastor\ncomforts a man and wife. John and Angela slip through,\nhead for the shelves of reference books on the back wall.\nThey whisper.\n\n JOHN\n\n Corinthians goes to 21 acts in the\n book of Ethenius. It's like a\n dark mirror of the Bible. It\n paints a different view of\n Revelations, says that the world\n will not come to an end at the\n hand of God but be reborn in the\n embrace", " 112.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn pries his eyes open...\n\n SATAN\n\n Hello, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're early.\n\n SATAN\n\n You're the one show I wouldn't\n miss.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I've heard.\nSatan sees John's slit wrists.\n\n SATAN\n\n I didn't think you'd make the" ], [ "looks up as John retrieves a gun from the wet\nfloor.\n\n JOHN\n\n You don't deserve to be human.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Then pass judgment on me now.\nJohn raises the gun -- puts it to Gabriel's forehead.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Do it. Seek revenge. End my\n life.\nJohn's finger nudges the trigger.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Kill me! Pull the trigger! Be\n the hand of God", "only a heartbeat.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n (without looking back)\n I know what you want, son.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 38.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn sits across from him.\n\n JOHN\n\n Been keeping your all-seeing eye\n on me, have you?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I could offer how a shepherd leads\n even the most", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "David -- this is Isabel.\n (meeting his eyes)\n Please...\nFather Garret stares at her, tries to be compassionate.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n I'll talk to him again.\nBut Angela has just lost a load of faith.\n\n\n\n\nBY THE FIREPLACE\n\nGabriel sits in his chair, watches the fire with\nunblinking eyes. John approaches from behind and against\nthe backdrop of flame, sees the nebulous shape of wings.\nThe ghostly image is visible for", "once again.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're trying to teach us a\n lesson?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No, I'm giving you the chance to\n rise above the suffering and truly\n earn the love of God.\n (a beat)\n The road to salvation begins\n tonight. Right now.\nJohn just stares at this rogue angel, centers on the\nSpear in his hand. He makes a break for it. Gabriel's\nwings beat once.\nThe GUST BLOWS", "have been given.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gift?! More like a curse the way\n you manage things.\nGabriel stands and towers over John.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I am taking your situation into\n account, John, but don't push me.\n\n JOHN\n\n Why me, Gabriel? It's personal,\n isn't it? I didn't go to church\n enough? I didn't pray enough? I\n was five bucks short in the\n collection", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH", "!\nJohn pauses, realizes what's happening here...\n\n JOHN\n\n ... and I'll be condemned again...\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Do it!\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 117.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nIt takes everything John has not to pull that trigger.\nHe lowers the gun, shaking his head.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're even worthless as bait.", "presume to judge me, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n Betrayal, murder, genocide? Call\n me provincial.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I am seeking to inspire humankind\n to be all that was intended.\n\n JOHN\n\n By unleashing Hell on Earth? Good\n thinking...\nGabriel's wings fold behind as he walks around John.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 109.\n", "wayward of his flock\n but it might sound disingenuous.\n\n JOHN\n\n So you're going to make me beg?\nAngela pauses on her way out, looks over.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n It wouldn't help. You've already\n wasted your chance at redemption.\n\n JOHN\n\n What about the minions I've sent\n back, the souls that I've saved --\n that should guarantee my passage\n across --\n\n G", "John through the double doors, back into\nthe --\n\n\n\n\n 110.\n\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR\n\n-- where he smashes against a mesh-screened window, drops\nto the floor in a heap with the other dying carcasses.\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM\n\nGabriel turns back to Angela. He approaches her -- his\nrippling wings sliding up around her, enveloping her --\npulling her in. Those eyes of his could melt Dracula.\n\n", "\nSOUND draws his attention to the one thing that could\ncause him even greater rage --\n\nGABRIEL --\n\nis hunched over near a wall. Jagged cartilage stumps\nprotrude from his back. A pattern of sinew and bone is\nburned into the floor behind him. It's all that remains\nof his once majestic wings.\nJohn approaches, spots blood dripping from the former angel.\nHe realizes what this means. Gets a kick out of it.\n\n JOHN\n\n Human...\nGabriel", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "didn't\n you?\nJohn meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (walking towards him)\n You see something in me...\n Something Isabel had.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go home, Angela.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I need to understand --\nJohn just shakes his head.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why not?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because you open up to that world,\n you", "ing everything we do --\n help an old lady across the\n street -- put in a nickel, kick a\n dog, take out a dime -- you're\n fucking nickel and diming us to\n death down here!\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Keep your voice down.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 39.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn jumps up, leans into his face.\n\n JOHN\n\n", "his old scar. He pauses a\nbeat, closes his eyes. STAY ON his face as he makes one\nswift SLICE movement.\nBut he's in a rush here -- makes that same motion across\nhis other wrist as well.\nWith both wrists purging his life away, John settles back\ninto the corner and waits for the inevitable.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hurry...\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - GABRIEL\n\nreveals the Spear.\n\n\n\n\nC", "ICE OF MAN (O.S.)\n\n Your ego is astounding.\nJohn strains to see the shadow become the real thing --\nthe majestic wings of an angel.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gabriel?\nJohn is too weak to even be surprised anymore.\n\n JOHN\n\n Figures...\nGabriel touches down in front of him. Spear in his hand.\n\n JOHN\n\n And the wicked shall inherit the\n Earth.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You", " JOHN\n\n I don't know... Just a feeling --\nJohn suddenly spins toward the entrance doors, is stunned\nto see --\n\n JOHN\n\n Balthazar.\nBalthazar is behind him. Utterly confident. Chillingly\nso.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n We're not still whining about\n Manhattan, are we?\nJohn's attempt to disguise his anger fails.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n That expression alone has made", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "\n them in... I sent them right to\n their deaths... a damn one-man\n plague.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, you need a doctor.\n\n JOHN\n\n I've seen a goddamn doctor!!\nAngela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.\nJohn stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.\n\n JOHN\n\n Get away from me!!\n\n ANGELA\n\n John?\n\n JO" ], [ ".\nJohn tries again. Again Midnite stops him.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n In your condition your body won't\n take much.\n\n JOHN\n\n I just need enough rope to find\n her.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n And if you do -- what then?\n\n JOHN\n\n One goddamn problem at a time --\nJohn shoves past him, plops his ass in the huge chair.\nHis feet dangle off the ground. Midnite stands by,", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "HN\n\n It's bad enough that you let these\n half-breeds in at all but this\n piece of shit --\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Perks of becoming a primary\n investor.\n\n JOHN\n\n What?!\nMidnite's eyes say it all -- not here, not now.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Things change, balances shift.\n Get used to it, Constantine.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not while I", "ICONIC, etc. And the globe at the center -- \"CREATOR.\"\nThis is an orrery of the forces of the Universe. And\nit's not moving.\n\n MIDNITE (O.S.)\n\n Et separatur a plasmate tuo, Ut\n num quam laedatur amorsu antiqui\n serpentes...\nJohn steps in through the doors behind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Deciding which color to paint this\n place again?\nPAPPA MIDNITE stands in", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "IC. It stops\nMidnite cold.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gotcha.\nA reluctant grin cracks Midnite's stern features. He\ntakes the relic in his thick fingers -- stares\nbreathlessly at a gaunt figure bracing itself against a\ncosmic wind.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Second century depiction of a\n sephiroth in the 4th realm...\n\n JOHN\n\n Right. So we good here?\nMidnite ignores his", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "only broken by a cough. Midnite sighs, breaks it off.\n\n JOHN\n\n What? -- I didn't blink -- that\n was a cough. You never cough?\nMidnite reaches into his tuxedo jacket and hands over a\nthick stack of HUNDREDS.\n\n JOHN\n\n Better not be any Washingtons in\n here this time.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Why did you cut your trip short?\nJohn stops the counting, actually thinks about it.\n\n", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", ", centers on him and Midnite just\nknows what he's thinking. Midnite sighs, heavily.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Well I suppose two fools can die\n just as easily as one.\nJohn almost smiles.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Hey, you think I'm trusting you to\n save the world?\nJohn taps the casting and out falls a GOLD-TIPPED BULLET.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n But we're going to need more than\n", "half breed,\n it was a full-fledged demon.\n Here. On our plane.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Right.\n\n JOHN\n\n I know what I saw.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n You must have just crossed over\n and didn't even realize it --\n\n JOHN\n\n I didn't cross over -- It was on\n this side. Here.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n -- it's wet out, you're wand", "has no patience for politeness, no time for tact,\nno fear of anything.\nThis man is JOHN CONSTANTINE.\nHe arrives at his destination, barges into --\n\n\n\n\n 5.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. APARTMENT 7B\n\nOne scan of the situation is all it takes. The bed --\nthe child -- the panicked priest -- who rushes to John.\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n (whispering)\n Thank God you're here...\nJohn shoot", "\nJohn starts to turn away --\n\n GABRIEL\n\n Deny your true nature today, but\n what of tomorrow, of the tomorrow\n after that? It is only a matter\n of time before you end up right\n back where you belong. It is who\n you are, Constantine. Damned.\nJohn's fist starts behind his back, gains momentum the\nentire arc until it ends abruptly against Gabriel's face.\nThe ex-angel is propelled all the way to the wall --\nSLAMS HARD against the concrete. Body", "\n\nINT. LAPD OFFICE - LATER\n\nThe name JOHN CONSTANTINE is center screen on a\nmonitor -- typed into the police station's SEARCH ENGINE.\nAngela sits alone in the squad room, rain streaking\nacross the windows.\nInterpol comes back with results and a list of priors\nscroll under John's name.\nMust be a hundred PARKING VIOLATIONS. Several SPEEDING\ntickets and a few RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT. In fact John's\nlicense has been REV", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "break down on my\n account.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n What do you want from me? A\n shoulder to cry on?\n\n JOHN\n\n This bastard attacked me right out\n in the open -- on Sepulveda no\n less.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n They don't like you, John. You've\n deported how many back to Hell?\n\n JOHN\n\n That's just it -- this wasn't some\n possession or wayward", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "ED:\n\nJohn is somewhat intrigued until the newest relic\ncollides with another and the orrery jams to a halt.\nMidnite deflates, stares at John, suspiciously.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Must I remind you of what selling\n fake relics will do to your\n health?\n\n JOHN\n\n It's authentic, Midnite, you just\n have the wrong piece. Jesus...\nThe two have a mini stare-down. John's rigid poker face\nis", "\n\n\n\n\nLIBRARY\n\nJohn stops, fixes on the two gentlemen standing in front\nof a fireplace. One is a young man of pure class wrapped\nin Armani's best. The other is Father Garret.\nJohn stands to the side and waits for their conversation\nto end. An ATTENDANT makes the rounds.\n\n ATTENDANT\n\n Can I take your coat, Mr.\n Constantine?\n\n JOHN\n\n No thanks, I'm not staying long.\n\n AT" ], [ "\n\nINT. LAPD OFFICE - LATER\n\nThe name JOHN CONSTANTINE is center screen on a\nmonitor -- typed into the police station's SEARCH ENGINE.\nAngela sits alone in the squad room, rain streaking\nacross the windows.\nInterpol comes back with results and a list of priors\nscroll under John's name.\nMust be a hundred PARKING VIOLATIONS. Several SPEEDING\ntickets and a few RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT. In fact John's\nlicense has been REV", "REPORT is opened. Let's see \"NO DRUGS\nIN SYSTEM\" and the biggie -- \"Cause of Death -- SUICIDE.\"\nAngela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and\ndistraught. She's taking this hard.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm sorry, Isabel...\nShe lowers her head. And in that brief moment of\nsilence --\n\n ISABEL (V.O.)\n\n (on TV)\n Constantine.\nAng", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "OKED.\nBut it's the other incidents that draw Angela in.\n\nBRIEF CLOSEUPS\n\nOf specific words in a few HEADLINES -- \"Occult activity\non the rise...\" \"Claimed possession is refuted by\nBishop...\" \"Satanic cult dissolved...\"\nAccompanies with an assortment of unusual case photos.\n-- BLOOD PATTERNS on a WALL -- Odd SYMBOLS burned into a\nceiling. A cross burnt to a crisp.\n-- JOHN in handcuffs", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "\n\n Could you just listen then?\nAngela sets her LAPD detective badge on the table.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Please?\n\n JOHN\n\n Always a catch...\nAngela sits across from him, puts the badge away.\n\n ANGELA\n\n My sister was murdered last week.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sorry to hear...\n\n ANGELA\n\n Her name was Isabel. Isabel\n Dodson?\nShe looks for a reaction. ", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "4.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n Let's be sure.\nHe starts walking. Angela is now compelled to follow.\n\n ANGELA\n\n How?\n\n JOHN\n\n Simple. See if she's in Hell.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. L.A. COUNTY MORGUE - NIGHT\n\nNot exactly an inviting place.\nHennessey steps off the curb, looks up at his\ndestination.\n\n\n", "has no patience for politeness, no time for tact,\nno fear of anything.\nThis man is JOHN CONSTANTINE.\nHe arrives at his destination, barges into --\n\n\n\n\n 5.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. APARTMENT 7B\n\nOne scan of the situation is all it takes. The bed --\nthe child -- the panicked priest -- who rushes to John.\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n (whispering)\n Thank God you're here...\nJohn shoot", " (sips tea)\n I don't know.\n\n ANGELA\n\n God has a plan for all of us.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not for me.\nJohn's bitterness is obvious. Angela just stares at\nhim -- finally --\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel saw things too.\nJohn looks up. Moment is lost when her CELLULAR RINGS.\nThe cop in her reacts, flips it open.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Detect", "\n\nlooking equally distraught.\n\n WEISS (V.O.)\n\n It's her, Angela...\n\n\n\n\nEXT. RAVENSCAR HOSPITAL - WIDER - CONTINUOUS ACTION -\n\n\nDAY\n\nAngela is led by Detective Weiss past several officers\nand medical personnel.\n\n WEISS\n\n It's Isabel.\nThey arrive at the covered body in the courtyard.\nCoroner sees Angela approach and lifts the sheet from the\nface.\n", "those eyes. He reaches\ninto his coat pocket as he walks up to her. She shudders\nas his arms wrap around her face and for a beat they're\ncheek to cheek. When he pulls back she sees he has\nclipped Hennessey's AMULET around her neck.\n\n JOHN\n\n Think of it as a bulletproof vest.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So I'm going.\n\n JOHN\n\n (knows he can't win)\n You're staying in", "didn't\n you?\nJohn meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (walking towards him)\n You see something in me...\n Something Isabel had.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go home, Angela.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I need to understand --\nJohn just shakes his head.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why not?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because you open up to that world,\n you", "'d start a sentence, she'd\n finish it. You'd get hurt, she'd\n cry.\n\n ANGELA\n\n That was a long time ago...\n\n JOHN\n\n That kind of bond doesn't just\n disappear.\n\n ANGELA\n\n There's nothing here.\nAngela seems unbalanced. John gets more aggressive.\n\n JOHN\n\n She planned her death in this\n room, she thought it up right\n where you'", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "73.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn sits back, gut churning. Angela's in detective mode.\n\n ANGELA\n\n She knew. That's why she killed\n herself. But it doesn't make\n sense...\n\n JOHN\n\n Makes sense to me.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, she sacrificed herself to\n beat him.\nJohn nods. Your point?\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why is", "Angela is there, covered in the\ngrime of the subway. She's pained as she pulls off her\nshoulder holster. Looks at herself in the door mirror.\nTired, aging eyes stare back.\n\n WEISS (O.S.)\n\n Gutsy move out there, Dodson.\nAngela glances at DETECTIVE WEISS as he opens his locker.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Gutsy? Well that's a new one.\nThe two exchange a look.\n\n ", " (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 77.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n Dammit, John -- they killed my\n sister!\nThat stops him cold.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I can't let them get away with\n that. Even if it means going down\n the same path she did. Now if you\n won't help me get there, I'll find\n my own way. But I won'", "JOHN\n\n Yeah...\n (to himself)\n And I don't think they were after\n me...\nJohn looks at her with renewed interest.\n\n JOHN\n\n You really believe she wouldn't\n commit suicide?\n\n ANGELA\n\n (a bit thrown)\n My sister?\n (a beat)\n Never in a million years.\nJohn makes the decision.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 5", "walking toward her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?\n (off no answer)\n How about what comes out of each?\nAngela keeps walking. He catches up with her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey!\n\n ANGELA\n\n You mean like angels?\n\n JOHN\n\n And demons.\nAngela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.\n\n JOHN\n\n See, you don'" ], [ "those eyes. He reaches\ninto his coat pocket as he walks up to her. She shudders\nas his arms wrap around her face and for a beat they're\ncheek to cheek. When he pulls back she sees he has\nclipped Hennessey's AMULET around her neck.\n\n JOHN\n\n Think of it as a bulletproof vest.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So I'm going.\n\n JOHN\n\n (knows he can't win)\n You're staying in", "walking toward her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?\n (off no answer)\n How about what comes out of each?\nAngela keeps walking. He catches up with her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey!\n\n ANGELA\n\n You mean like angels?\n\n JOHN\n\n And demons.\nAngela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.\n\n JOHN\n\n See, you don'", "REPORT is opened. Let's see \"NO DRUGS\nIN SYSTEM\" and the biggie -- \"Cause of Death -- SUICIDE.\"\nAngela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and\ndistraught. She's taking this hard.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm sorry, Isabel...\nShe lowers her head. And in that brief moment of\nsilence --\n\n ISABEL (V.O.)\n\n (on TV)\n Constantine.\nAng", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", " (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 77.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n Dammit, John -- they killed my\n sister!\nThat stops him cold.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I can't let them get away with\n that. Even if it means going down\n the same path she did. Now if you\n won't help me get there, I'll find\n my own way. But I won'", "didn't\n you?\nJohn meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (walking towards him)\n You see something in me...\n Something Isabel had.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go home, Angela.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I need to understand --\nJohn just shakes his head.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why not?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because you open up to that world,\n you", "\n assistance. The help of God.\nAngela sits back, letting that sink in.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So it's impossible.\n\n JOHN\n\n Impossible? Sure it's impossible.\n That's what makes it so dangerous.\n These things exist to break the\n rules, to find the loopholes. If\n the past is any indication, then\n the future isn't on our side.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "JOHN\n\n Yeah...\n (to himself)\n And I don't think they were after\n me...\nJohn looks at her with renewed interest.\n\n JOHN\n\n You really believe she wouldn't\n commit suicide?\n\n ANGELA\n\n (a bit thrown)\n My sister?\n (a beat)\n Never in a million years.\nJohn makes the decision.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 5", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "\n them in... I sent them right to\n their deaths... a damn one-man\n plague.\n\n ANGELA\n\n John, you need a doctor.\n\n JOHN\n\n I've seen a goddamn doctor!!\nAngela glares at him -- understands now. He's dying.\nJohn stands, almost stumbles. Angela tries to help.\n\n JOHN\n\n Get away from me!!\n\n ANGELA\n\n John?\n\n JO", "t run.\n Never.\nThe two stand there -- locked in this moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Please...\nJohn can't believe this day -- looks her dead in the eye.\n\n JOHN\n\n You do this, there's no turning\n back. You see them -- they see\n you. Understand?\nAngela never blinks as she nods in agreement.\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT - LATER\n\nPushing slowly through a lifeless apartment -- drawing\n", " (sips tea)\n I don't know.\n\n ANGELA\n\n God has a plan for all of us.\n\n JOHN\n\n Not for me.\nJohn's bitterness is obvious. Angela just stares at\nhim -- finally --\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel saw things too.\nJohn looks up. Moment is lost when her CELLULAR RINGS.\nThe cop in her reacts, flips it open.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Detect", "ELA (V.O.)\n\n I'm trying real hard.\n\n\n\n\nINT. RAVENSCAR - NIGHT\n\nAngela's eyes open. An Angela whose frightened features\nare dripping with a fever sweat.\nShe's in a hospital gown, stares around a corner.\nJanitor polishes the floor in the distance. A nurse\nchecks off charts in the f.g. And right between the two\ndarts Angela, unseen by anyone.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT\n\nA metal fire", ".\nAngela feels the scratch on her cheek, sees a trickle of\nblood. Now she hears SOUNDS in the darkness. Like\nLEATHER RUBBING. Surrounding them.\n\n ANGELA\n\n What is that?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 52.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn is just as surprised he's saying this --\n\n JOHN\n\n Wings.\n\n AN", "David -- this is Isabel.\n (meeting his eyes)\n Please...\nFather Garret stares at her, tries to be compassionate.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n I'll talk to him again.\nBut Angela has just lost a load of faith.\n\n\n\n\nBY THE FIREPLACE\n\nGabriel sits in his chair, watches the fire with\nunblinking eyes. John approaches from behind and against\nthe backdrop of flame, sees the nebulous shape of wings.\nThe ghostly image is visible for", " (beat)\n That about right?\nThe words have hit so hard that Angela is speechless.\nJohn sees the hurt in her eyes, would like to take it\nback -- but it's too late.\nShe turns and starts out, slows --\n\n ANGELA\n\n You're not the only one afraid of\n Hell.\nJohn tries not to let that get to him. She leaves. He\nglances out the window, watches her pass by. So long.\nGood riddance.\nBut something's not right. Those deep", "your\n line of work, Angela. I'd be\n worried if you didn't have them.\nAngela now in a recliner, cat in her lap. She's tired.\nEyes are heavy.\n\n FATHER GARRET (V.O.)\n\n But you have to be strong. You\n can't allow your faith to be\n overshadowed by guilt.\n\n ANGELA (V.O.)\n\n I'm trying.\nHer eyes close.\n\n ANG", ". Angela opens her eyes. The\ntension seems to flow right out of her when she sees --\n\n ANGELA\n\n The tree.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. COURTYARD - NIGHT\n\nA lone tree stands in the center of the lit courtyard.\nJohn and Angela approach it. Examine it. Nothing. John\ndrops lower on the tree, to a child's height. Finally\nsees something near the ground, gestures to Angela.\nShe kneels down next to him, sees what he sees.\nThat same SYMBOL", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl" ], [ "REPORT is opened. Let's see \"NO DRUGS\nIN SYSTEM\" and the biggie -- \"Cause of Death -- SUICIDE.\"\nAngela sits on the couch in her robe. Disheveled and\ndistraught. She's taking this hard.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I'm sorry, Isabel...\nShe lowers her head. And in that brief moment of\nsilence --\n\n ISABEL (V.O.)\n\n (on TV)\n Constantine.\nAng", "death,\n talking on and on about\n Revelations and the end of the\n world. Then one day she just\n stopped... never said another\n word.\n\n JOHN\n\n So you put her in here.\nAngela doesn't need to be reminded. It hurts even more now.\n\n JOHN\n\n Show me her room.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn and Angela head toward Isabel's room. A NURSE\nappears from around the corner walking with a", "but it's\nway too noisy to hear. All we see are the emotions on\nBeeman's face. No doubt news of Hennessey's death is one\nof the biggies.\nBeeman quickly reaches for a marker, puts it to paper and\nstarts drawing -- listening and drawing --\nHe's finished, hangs up. Stares at the Symbol. That\ncabinet with the ancient books now gets his attention.\n\n JOHN (V.O.)\n\n I need to see where Isabel died.\n\n\n\n\nEXT.", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nShe rushes in, gently tugs the boy away.\n\n NURSE\n\n No, Barry, that's not Isabel.\nBarry stares at Angela. He reaches out, touches her\nface, confused. Nurse pulls him back even further.\n\n NURSE\n\n I'm sorry. They were friends. He\n kind of had a crush on your sister.\nAngela nods, understanding. The Nurse leads Barry away.\nHe doesn't take his eyes off Angela the", "\n\nlooking equally distraught.\n\n WEISS (V.O.)\n\n It's her, Angela...\n\n\n\n\nEXT. RAVENSCAR HOSPITAL - WIDER - CONTINUOUS ACTION -\n\n\nDAY\n\nAngela is led by Detective Weiss past several officers\nand medical personnel.\n\n WEISS\n\n It's Isabel.\nThey arrive at the covered body in the courtyard.\nCoroner sees Angela approach and lifts the sheet from the\nface.\n", "The entire mess collapses to the ground in a flood of\nscattering critters. John starts stomping on them as\nthey scatter into the city.\nJohn stands there, shocked and concerned. What the hell\nis going on?\n\n\n\n\nINT. ANGELA'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nThat surveillance VIDEO FOOTAGE from Ravenscar plays\nagain. There's Isabel in her nightgown walking across\nthe roof.\nSpread out on a cluttered coffee table is Isabel's case\nfile. CORONER'S", "David -- this is Isabel.\n (meeting his eyes)\n Please...\nFather Garret stares at her, tries to be compassionate.\n\n FATHER GARRET\n\n I'll talk to him again.\nBut Angela has just lost a load of faith.\n\n\n\n\nBY THE FIREPLACE\n\nGabriel sits in his chair, watches the fire with\nunblinking eyes. John approaches from behind and against\nthe backdrop of flame, sees the nebulous shape of wings.\nThe ghostly image is visible for", "didn't\n you?\nJohn meets her eyes. Sees the questions piling up.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (walking towards him)\n You see something in me...\n Something Isabel had.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go home, Angela.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I need to understand --\nJohn just shakes his head.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why not?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because you open up to that world,\n you", "ips an empty glass,\ntraps it underneath. He takes a drag on his cigarette,\ntips the glass and blows smoke inside. Spider can't\nescape the poison air, bumps the glass. Trapped. Dying.\n\n JOHN\n\n Welcome to my life.\n\n ANGELA (O.S.)\n\n Mr. Constantine?\nJohn looks up, spots Angela. Those eyes again.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I saw you at --\n\n JOHN\n\n --", "entire time.\nNeither does John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You were twins.\nAngela nods, steps inside. John pauses, thinking.\n\n\n\n\nINT. ISABEL'S ROOM\n\nJohn steps inside, gives the sterile room a thorough\nscan.\n\n JOHN\n\n So how long?\n\n ANGELA\n\n Two months.\n (beat)\n This time.\nHe pulls out a drawer, looks at the bottom.\n\n ANGEL", "\nout a single hand -- slowly rests it on her shoulder.\nThe contact seems to open a floodgate of emotion and\nAngela falls right into his arms. John hasn't been this\nclose to anyone in a long time. Angela finally composes\nherself.\n\n ANGELA\n\n How? How did you do this...?\nJohn tries not to stare into those eyes too long. Fails.\n\n\n\n\nINT. L.A. COUNTY MORGUE - NIGHT\n\nBody drawer slides open -- reveals Isabel. L", "on the roof.\n\n\n\n\nINT. HOSPITAL - DAY\n\nJohn marches down a hallway, his trench coat a step\nbehind. He unconsciously rubs his left wrist, coughs.\nFlicks an unlit smoke between his fingers.\nJohn stops at a doctor's office door -- hesitates.\n\n\n\n\nINT. RAVENSCAR - SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE\n\nView of the rooftop. There's Isabel in her nightgown,\nstepping up -- pausing just a second.", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "s him a disgusted look. Hennessey gives him a\nwide berth.\nJohn walks past the panic-stricken MOTHER without a\nglance, sets his cigarette on the nightstand, the glowing\ntip drooped over the edge. He puts a gloved hand to the\nchild's face and it burns on contact. His demeanor\ninstantly changes as he leans right next to the ear of\nthe little girl and whispers --\n\n JOHN\n\n This is Constantine. John\n Constantine, asshole.\nThe girl", "ela snaps back to the TV, freezes in shock.\nThere's Isabel ready to jump but this time she's looking\nright back AT us -- at Angela. Then she's gone.\nAngela quickly rewinds the tape and watches the sequence\nagain. This time Isabel doesn't look back. This time\nthere is no name. But Angela did see it. Did hear it.\nShe sits for a second. Stunned.\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S OFFICE\n\nJohn paces as Midnite works on that Universal orrery", "\nCONTINUED:\n\nSweat drips off as he looks up. He opens his palm --\nreveals to Angela a simple HOSPITAL BAND. The name\n\"ISABEL DODSON\" is typed on it.\nEven as a semi-convert, this news completely floors\nAngela. She takes the plastic band -- grips it tight --\ntries to hold herself together. The adrenaline and pain\noverwhelm. Her knee buckle and she drops to the floor.\nJohn watches, isn't sure how to help. He finally reaches", "m not really sure\n what I'm doing here... I just\n feel -- the circles you travel\n in -- the occult, demonology,\n exorcisms...\nJohn just stares at that spider in the glass. Trapped.\n\n ANGELA\n\n I believe someone got to her, Mr.\n Constantine, brainwashed her into\n stepping off that roof. Some kind\n of legion or cult.\n\n JOHN\n\n Sounds like a theory. Good luck.\n\n ", "\n\n\n\n\nLIBRARY\n\nJohn stops, fixes on the two gentlemen standing in front\nof a fireplace. One is a young man of pure class wrapped\nin Armani's best. The other is Father Garret.\nJohn stands to the side and waits for their conversation\nto end. An ATTENDANT makes the rounds.\n\n ATTENDANT\n\n Can I take your coat, Mr.\n Constantine?\n\n JOHN\n\n No thanks, I'm not staying long.\n\n AT", "the\ncross. And those stained glass windows are now slate\nblack.\nJohn is now facing books with completely different\nmarkings. He searches as a DRONE rises in pitch and an\nINKY BLACKNESS begins to flow down the walls, getting\ncloser to John with each heartbeat.\nHe finds the book, steps back as he closes his eyes --\n\n\n\n\nREGULAR CHAPEL\n\n\n ANGELA\n\n -- not here on this side?\nJohn turns, covered in sweat. He's holding a book she'", "looking right at him.\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel?\nShe lifts something and tosses it. John watches as a\nsmall object tumbles toward him just ahead of closing\ndarkness.\n\n\n\n\nINT. ANGELA'S APARTMENT - HALLWAY\n\nIn that same motion we left her in -- Angela finishes\npushing the door closed. As it LATCHES --\n\n JOHN (O.S.)\n\n (weakly)\n Angela... come back in...\nConfused," ], [ "IGURE walking across a\nstretch of the most barren landscape on Earth. He stops,\nkneels to the heavily-cracked soil. Starts digging.\n\n\n\n\n 118.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT - THE ORRERY\n\nA HAND comes in, affixes an unseen object to a protruding\nrod. Its weight causes it to drop OUT OF FRAME but a\nmoment later it rises back INTO VIEW and finds a balance.\n\n\n\n\nEXT", "something. We've\n seen a few small ones slip through\n now and then.\n\n JOHN\n\n It's more than that... first the\n girl, then this.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n John, you know my connections.\n Any shifts or tremors in the\n planes and I'd hear about it.\nJohn just shakes his head, looks up -- convinced.\n\n JOHN\n\n Something's coming.\nMidnite sighs, gives up with him.\n\n\n", "at him -- is this a joke?\n\n JOHN\n\n I know how it sounds...\n\n BEEMAN\n\n We're finger puppets to them,\n John, elaborate costumes -- they\n can work us but don't come through\n us. They can't. You know that.\n\n JOHN\n\n Check the scrolls anyway.\n Corinthians. See if there are any\n precedents.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Sure, John. Anything else?\n\n", "ghastly beast rising up through a body.\nBut it's what's above the beast that is most troubling.\nA figure on a cross -- his arms outstretched -- seemingly\nwelcoming the beast into this world.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n This is not good...\nBOWLING BALL hits a lane. Beeman spins to the sound.\nBALL ROLLS round and round, closer and closer until it\nCLANGS dead against the back wall of one of the lanes.\nBeeman gets up, starts down the corridor of", "ELA (V.O.)\n\n I'm trying real hard.\n\n\n\n\nINT. RAVENSCAR - NIGHT\n\nAngela's eyes open. An Angela whose frightened features\nare dripping with a fever sweat.\nShe's in a hospital gown, stares around a corner.\nJanitor polishes the floor in the distance. A nurse\nchecks off charts in the f.g. And right between the two\ndarts Angela, unseen by anyone.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT\n\nA metal fire", "\n Bastard changed the code again.\n (bangs the doors)\n Midnite! Come on, do I have to\n huff and puff here?!\nThe doors unlatch.\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S OFFICE\n\nSWEEP ACROSS a meticulously-crafted ORRERY, a scientific\nsculpture that normally displays our solar system in\nrelative motion. But the planets here are ancient RELICS\nwith symbols and names -- MATERIAL, ASTRAL, SPIRITUAL,\n", "arms begins to WARP -- to tear a faint hole\nfrom the bowling alley right into another world right\nhere -- darker -- Hellish --\n\n JOHN\n\n Into the light I command thee!!\n Into the light I --\nJohn is choked by a cough -- can't finish -- arms\nseparate and he buckles to his knees, reveals to Angela\njust how ill he really is.\nShe leans down to him, sees hints of blood on the floor.\n\n JOHN\n\n ... this is my fault... I sent", "s digging. With his arm under the tapestry, he\nscratches at the stone with a SPOON. After only a year,\nthe spoon finally breaks through.\n\n\n\n\nINT. NARROW CHANNEL\n\nPrisoner claws his way between ancient walls, comes to a\ndead end against a thick wooden door. He nudges a\nshoulder against it, digs in and pushes. DOOR GROANS\nopen, sucking air into the pitch black CHAMBER.\n\n\n\n\nINT. PRISONER'S C", "s another page.\n\n\n\n\nBOWLING AREA\n\nAmazing how disturbing a bowling alley is when it's\nclosed. Rows of empty lanes stretching into darkness,\nthe unlit pin areas looking like the jaws of an army of\nbeasts.\n\n BEEMAN (O.S.)\n\n Oh my...\n\n\n\n\nBEHIND THE LANES\n\nBeeman has stopped turning pages. That's because he's\nnow staring at an etching of the same symbol. Below are\nink drawings of a", "spots a HAND protruding from the\nmound.\n\n JOHN\n\n Oh Jesus, no --\nHe rips his coat off, flings it at the mound and million\nflies scatter -- revealing the body of Beeman. Ravaged.\nFlies pouring out of his mouth, his ears --\n\n ANGELA\n\n (stepping back)\n Oh God --\nJohn goes ballistic, screams to the walls --\n\n JOHN\n\n Who are you?! Answer me!!\n Goddam", "ICONIC, etc. And the globe at the center -- \"CREATOR.\"\nThis is an orrery of the forces of the Universe. And\nit's not moving.\n\n MIDNITE (O.S.)\n\n Et separatur a plasmate tuo, Ut\n num quam laedatur amorsu antiqui\n serpentes...\nJohn steps in through the doors behind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Deciding which color to paint this\n place again?\nPAPPA MIDNITE stands in", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "crumples on\nimpact, slides down to the muck. You know this hurt like\nabsolute hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n That's called pain. Get used to it.\nJohn turns toward the double doors -- stops cold.\nHuddled in the doorway, covered in grime is Angela and\nBarry. The experience has obviously left them both\ndrained.\nJohn walks across the room, kneels down to them.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Thank you, John.\nHe nods, beat. Wipes a trace of", "blood off her brow, puts\na hand on Barry's shoulder. HOLD a beat ON this gritty\nfamily tableau.\n\n\n\n\nINT. JOHN'S APARTMENT - MIDNITE'S UNIVERSAL ORRERY\n\nMOVING SLOWLY PAST the inoperative device. PAST\nstrangely-shaped objects of platinum and gold, with names\nand symbols that make a bit more sense now.\n\n\n\n\nEXT. AFRICA - DAY\n\nHuge sun beats down on a lone F", ".\nAngela feels the scratch on her cheek, sees a trickle of\nblood. Now she hears SOUNDS in the darkness. Like\nLEATHER RUBBING. Surrounding them.\n\n ANGELA\n\n What is that?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 52.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn is just as surprised he's saying this --\n\n JOHN\n\n Wings.\n\n AN", "hers!\n\n ANGELA\n\n That's just not going to happen.\n\n MAN (O.S.)\n\n You sure about that?!\nAngela checks the chamber -- sees she has one bullet\nleft.\n\n ANGELA\n\n (almost pleading)\n Now put down your weapon on the\n tracks and --\nGROUND BEGINS to VIBRATE. Tunnel starts to GLOW.\n\n MAN (O.S.)\n\n Well ain't this a pe", "seeing only darkness as the sounds get\nCLOSER -- ghastly sound of MOVEMENT in the fringes of\nlight.\nThe cross now resembles a dying wire filament and with\nevery second the circle of light gets smaller and those\nSOUNDS GET CLOSER. John takes out his special lighter.\n\n JOHN\n\n Close your eyes.\nThey are now standing in pitch darkness.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why?\n\n JOHN\n\n Suit yourself.\nJohn flicks the lighter and", "\n No!\nJeanie SCREAMS -- breaks free of the straps. She rises\nup, grabs John tight around the throat. Nails dig deep.\n\n HENNESSEY\n\n John?!\n\n JOHN\n\n (looking into\n mirror)\n Not yet!\nJohn struggles, puts his hands over her mouth -- cutting\noff her air supply. Question is, who's going to pass out\nfirst?\nJeanie's body is racked by whatever's inside her. She\ngoes", "\n\n Listen to my voice inside...\n\n\n\n\nINT. MIDNITE'S - STORAGE ROOM\n\nMidnite kneels in front of John who is now handcuffed to\nthe chair, cables draped from every limb.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n I'll try and guide you out.\n\n JOHN\n\n Try?\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon was forced out of that girl\n when she jumped so unless he found\n a holding vessel to wait in", "once again.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're trying to teach us a\n lesson?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No, I'm giving you the chance to\n rise above the suffering and truly\n earn the love of God.\n (a beat)\n The road to salvation begins\n tonight. Right now.\nJohn just stares at this rogue angel, centers on the\nSpear in his hand. He makes a break for it. Gabriel's\nwings beat once.\nThe GUST BLOWS" ], [ "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", "(O.S.)\n\n Gabriel?\nGabriel looks up -- spots him in the room. Gabriel\nreacts -- pulls the spear toward her with all his\nmight -- but Satan is faster -- Angela vanishes and\nGabriel has now pierced dead air.\nSatan holds Angela tight -- covering her mouth like John\ndid. She struggles and the demon inside appears --\nreflected in the huge chunks of tank glass scattered on\nthe floor. Hideous. The real MAMMON.\n\n SATAN\n\n Say goodbye to the sun --", "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", "in one powerful motion --\nsweeps his arm up as he lights his hand.\nSacred cloth catches fire -- then IGNITES with a\nbrilliant retina-searing FLASH -- blinding Angela and\nilluminating a --\n-- CIRCLE OF WINGED DEMONS -- a roiling broth of\nreptilian death -- right there -- ready to pounce.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 53.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n", "engraved with religious markings.\nJohn takes them, tries them on. Nice fit.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Gold was blessed by the Bishop\n Anicott during the Crusades.\nJohn spots a foot-long COPPER TUBE in the bag, pulls it\nout, grips the bicycle handle on one end.\n\n BEEMAN\n\n Watch it there.\nWith this puny little thing? John gives the handle a\nsqueeze and WHOOOOSH -- ten-foot FLAME BELCHES out", "MAMMON (O.S.)\n\n Angela.\nAngela SPINS and for a split second comes face to face\nwith the hideous form of MAMMON. She SCREAMS.\n\n\n\n\nINT. NORMAL PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - REAL TIME\n\nJohn and Midnite burst into the room, spot Barry standing\nin the tank. His hands in the water. On Angela.\n\n JOHN\n\n (rushing toward him)\n Barry!\nBarry looks up, sees the two men rushing", "RISTIAN RELICS\n\nare removed from a display cabinet.\nThere's the pure platinum Flask of Divinity, the\npetrified husk from the River of Life -- the hollow shaft\nof an iron cross -- all striking pieces individually but\nwhen twisted and locked together form a very imposing --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 81.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n-- HOLY SHOTGUN.\n\nHe swings the cross down, pours a", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "-- clasps a hand over her mouth -- cutting off her air\nsupply.\n\n JOHN\n\n Back to Hell, asshole --\nHer body undulates as Mammon's shape tries to come through.\nPulsating through her arms, her chest -- her face.\nAngela BITES into his palm. John recoils. She shoves\nhim off and John hits the tile hard. Angela jumps from\nthe tank, pushes past in a blur. John spins to see\nMidnite standing right there -- Angela now firmly in his\nsize-tw", "the minivan, tears\naway. Kids' toys tumble across the seats.\n\n\n\n\nINT. CLUB MIDNITE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\nJohn bursts through a door -- Midnite right on his heels.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n Mammon has been trying to climb\n out of his father's shadow for\n eons.\n\n JOHN\n\n And this time he might just make\n it.\n\n MIDNITE\n\n (uncon", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "both of\n you.\nMammon SHRIEKS and Gabriel's beautiful wings ignite in\n\nFLAME --\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n No!!!!!!!!\n\n\n\n\nCORRIDOR - JOHN\n\nis rocked by a major jolt that shakes the entire building\nto its foundation. A moment later --\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 114.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan is back. John looks up", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "of the damned.\n\n ANGELA\n\n There's a difference?\n\n JOHN\n\n Depends on which side of the fence\n you're standing.\nJohn stops, casually sticks his hand in the pastor's bowl\nof holy water near the altar.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So why haven't I seen this book\n before?\n\n JOHN\n\n Because it doesn't exist here on\n this side.\nJohn closes his eyes and the water in", "can't\nbreak his hold. He's choking, frantically rummages\nthrough his coat pockets. Comes out with those sacred\nGOLD KNUCKLES on his right hand.\nBalthazar tightens his grip and John swings, clocks him\nacross the face. The enhanced punch sends a dizzying\nripple throughout Balthazar's body.\nBut he doesn't let go. John is choking, starts whaling\non him. Again and again -- each punch weakening this\ndemon more.\nJohn finally", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", "87.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n What killed the Son of God will\n give birth to the son of the\n devil.\nJohn's mind races and he finally puts it together.\n\n JOHN\n\n He's found the Spear.\nBalthazar's expression confirms it.\n\n\n\n\nCLOSE ON THE PRISONER'S RELIC\n\nIt's tucked between the folds of an AIRLINES blanket.\n", "\n\n\n\n\nINT. RAVENSCAR - PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM\n\nTherapy machines look like medieval torture devices in\nthe dimly-lit room. BARRY stands waist deep in a large\nhydrotherapy tank inset into the tile floor. His skin is\npale, sickly looking. Obviously containing Mammon takes\nits toll. Especially on a child.\nHis hands are below his waist and now we see they're\nlowering a still-unconscious Angela into the water. Her\nface floats just above the surface as" ], [ "\n\n\n JOHN\n\n -- I escaped hell, who else do you\n know that has the power to do\n that?!\nBalthazar is now doubting his own beliefs.\n\n JOHN\n\n Just tell me how Mammon is\n crossing over and you can go back\n to your shithole.\nBalthazar isn't convinced.\nJohn stands -- raises the Bible and starts to read --\n\n JOHN\n\n 'May the merciful God have mercy\n on you and grant you the pardon", ", gives him that look -- you\nowe me. Satan hates admitting it but knows it's true.\n\n SATAN\n\n So... what do you want? An\n extension?\nJohn shakes his head, can barely utter a sound...\n\n JOHN\n\n Isabel...\n\n SATAN\n\n What about her?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... let her... go home...\n\n SATAN\n\n You would give up your life so she\n could go to Heaven", "same\n mistake twice.\nJohn looks up at him.\n\n SATAN\n\n You didn't, did you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... so how's your son?\n\n SATAN\n\n And why would that matter to you?\n\n JOHN\n\n ... he's topside...\n\n SATAN\n\n I know.\n\n JOHN\n\n With Gabriel.\n\n SATAN\n\n Your point?\n\n JO", "\n\nJohn's rising hand drifts back down in front of Satan,\nthe middle finger fully extended. Final straw.\nSatan goes rabid -- turns to PURE ENERGY for a split\nsecond. His hands remain on fire.\n\n SATAN\n\n You will live, John Constantine,\n you will live so you'll have the\n chance to prove that your soul\n truly belongs in Hell. You will\n live!\nSatan eagerly plunges his blazing hands into John's\nbody --\nJohn screams", "what you said.\n\n JOHN\n\n Unless they found a bridge.\n (off her look)\n Some psychic with the chops to\n reach all the way to Hell and the\n grit to withstand whatever shit\n she'd pull out.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Isabel...\n\n JOHN\n\n But even a bridge wouldn't help\n Mammon. Because to cross over, the\n myth says he'd still need the one\n thing he could never get. Divine", "\nhis hand, starts to pull him home but suddenly finds\nhimself pulling on what seems to be infinite mass. Try\nas he might, he can't budge John an inch.\nAnd now John's other hand leaves his side, and as if\nweightless, begins to rise toward something above.\nNo sense in beating around the bush here, John is in the\nembrace of God.\nSatan sees this and recoils in absolute RAGE --\n\n SATAN\n\n The sacrifice!! No!!!! THIS ONE\n\n BELONGS TO ME!!", "and martyrs slipping\n through his grasp -- his own foot\n soldiers sent back to him in\n chunks. He's going to take all\n that out on you, John, and he's\n going to enjoy ripping your soul\n to shreds until the end of time.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I take that as a 'no?'\n\n ELLIE\n\n You're the one soul the man\n himself would actually come up\n here to collect. And you know how\n much he despises", "wayward of his flock\n but it might sound disingenuous.\n\n JOHN\n\n So you're going to make me beg?\nAngela pauses on her way out, looks over.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n It wouldn't help. You've already\n wasted your chance at redemption.\n\n JOHN\n\n What about the minions I've sent\n back, the souls that I've saved --\n that should guarantee my passage\n across --\n\n G", "THAZAR\n\n I will see you very soon...\n\n JOHN\n\n Not really, no.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n You can't cheat it this time...\n you're going back to Hell.\n\n JOHN\n\n True. But you're not.\nJohn removes that small BLACK BOX from his coat.\nBalthazar tries not to be concerned until John unlatches\nit and removes the one weapon he hardly ever uses --\nA Bible.\n\n", " JOHN\n\n Well, what would you do if you\n were sentenced to a prison where\n half the inmates were put there by\n you?\nNot a serene image at all. Angela studies him.\n\n ANGELA\n\n Why you? I mean many go to Hell,\n why were you able to escape?\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 63.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n JOHN\n\n", "walking toward her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?\n (off no answer)\n How about what comes out of each?\nAngela keeps walking. He catches up with her.\n\n JOHN\n\n Hey!\n\n ANGELA\n\n You mean like angels?\n\n JOHN\n\n And demons.\nAngela stares at him, continues walking. He keeps up.\n\n JOHN\n\n See, you don'", "have been given.\n\n JOHN\n\n Gift?! More like a curse the way\n you manage things.\nGabriel stands and towers over John.\n\n GABRIEL\n\n I am taking your situation into\n account, John, but don't push me.\n\n JOHN\n\n Why me, Gabriel? It's personal,\n isn't it? I didn't go to church\n enough? I didn't pray enough? I\n was five bucks short in the\n collection", "HN\n\n He's helping your son create his\n own Hell on Earth...\n\n SATAN\n\n Well, boys will be boys...\n\n JOHN\n\n He has the Spear of Destiny.\n\n (CONTINUED)\n\n\n\n\n\n 113.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nSatan didn't know that. Now he's concerned. He studies\nthis dying man.\n\n SATAN\n\n ", "you know what this spear\n would mean to a demon trying to\n cross over.\nShe doesn't.\n\n JOHN\n\n The stains on its edges?\nAngela looks back at the painting, notes the liquid\nflowing from Jesus' wound. Angela can't believe it --\n\n JOHN\n\n Mammon needed divine assistance --\n how's the blood of God's only son?\nAngela sits stunned for a moment.\n\n ANGELA\n\n So that's it -- he", " 112.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\nJohn pries his eyes open...\n\n SATAN\n\n Hello, John.\n\n JOHN\n\n You're early.\n\n SATAN\n\n You're the one show I wouldn't\n miss.\n\n JOHN\n\n So I've heard.\nSatan sees John's slit wrists.\n\n SATAN\n\n I didn't think you'd make the", "fall from\n grace but was born after.\n\n\n\n\nINT. SUV\n\n\n JOHN\n\n But unlike his old man, he's never\n been in the presence of the Creator\n so he has no fear of him, no respect\n either. That goes double for us --\n God's most prized creations. Mammon\n would be the last demon we'd ever\n want crossing over.\n\n ANGELA\n\n But demons can't come and go,\n that's", " BALTHAZAR\n\n What are you doing?\n\n JOHN\n\n I'm reading you your last rites.\nBalthazar reacts. This isn't good.\n\n BALTHAZAR\n\n Your remedial incantations have no\n relevance to my kind.\n\n JOHN\n\n Aren't you half human?\nBalthazar doesn't have to answer.\n\n JOHN\n\n You see, that makes you eligible\n ", "in SLOW MOTION.\nYoung Angela and Isabel share that moment again. But\nthis time Isabel lets go and jumps out of her swing.\nHer body sails up and away, her fingers reaching out for\nwhat seems so close... so close...\nIsabel keeps going until she fades into the sky.\n\n SATAN (V.O.)\n\n Time to go.\n\n\n\n\n 115.\n\n\n\n\n\nINT. CORRIDOR\n\nJohn relaxes, stops fighting the inevitable. Satan takes", "This is another one of your cons.\n\n JOHN\n\n Go look for yourself...\nSatan is still suspicious.\n\n JOHN\n\n You've waited twenty years for me,\n what's another twenty seconds?\nSatan contemplates his remark. Metallic reverberation is\novertaken as SOUND and MOTION ramp back to real time --\n\n\n\n\nPHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM - THE SPEAR\n\nis about to be thrust into Angela's chest.\n\n SATAN", "\n\n\n\n\nCONTINUED:\n\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You've had it too easy for too\n long.\n\n JOHN\n\n So what's a few thousand years of\n pain, right?\n\n GABRIEL\n\n You never deserved to be blessed.\n You've all been born with a silver\n spoon in your mouth, never really\n appreciating the gift you were\n given so freely -- unconditional\n love from your creator.\n\n JOH" ] ]

[ "What does Constantine have the ability to do?", "What is Constantine dying of? ", "What is the name of Lucifer's son?", "What are Mammon's intentions on Earth?", "How does Constantine transport himself to the depths of hell?", "Who planned on releasing Mammon on Earth?", "Why does Constantine commit suicide?", "Why can't Lucifer take Constantine to hell? ", "What artifact from Sing Sing is used by John?", "Where was the Spear of Destiny found by the demons?", "Why is Lucifer unable to bring John's soul to Hell?", "What is Papa Midnite's occupation?", "Who is Lucifer's son?", "Why does John agree to help Angela?", "What animal does John use to transport himself to hell in order to see Isabel?", "How is Lucifer able to defeat Gabriel?", "Who is behind Mammon's plan to take over the Earth?", "How old was John when he first committed suicide?", "What powers does John Constantine possess?", "What did John do at age 15?", "Why does John seek Gabriel's help?", "What does Constantine learn fro m Papa Midnite?", "Why does detective Angela Dosdon seek Constantine's help?", "What convinces Constantine to help Angela?", "Where does Constantine locate Isabel?", "Who is trying to break through to Earth?", "What holy weapon has Mammon apprehended?", "What does John ask from Lucifer when granted a favor?" ]

[ [ "He has the ability to see angels and demons", "see demons and angels" ], [ "Lung Canceer", "Lung cancer" ], [ "Mammon", "Mammon" ], [ "To claim Earth as his kingdom", "To create his own version of Hell" ], [ "By using a cat as a means of teleportation", "Committed suicide." ], [ "Gabriel", "Gabriel." ], [ "So that he can tell Lucifer of Mammon's plan to replace him", "He couldn't live with his visions" ], [ "Because of Constantine's selfess act of winning Isabel's ascension into heaven", "John selflessly sacrificed himself, earning Heaven's protection" ], [ "The Char", "an old electric chair" ], [ "Mexico", "Mexixo" ], [ "John earned entry to Heaven by granting Isabel an afterlife in Heaven. ", "John's sacrifice granted him entry to heaven" ], [ "A witch doctor", "Witch doctor" ], [ "Mammon", "Mammon" ], [ "Demons chase her in the street", "Demons chase Angela" ], [ "A cat", "Angela's cat." ], [ "He burns Gabriel's wings after God takes Gabriel's powers", "God has taken away Gabriel's power" ], [ "Gabriel", "God" ], [ "Fifteen ", "He was15 years old" ], [ "The ability to see both angels and demons.", "He can see angles and demons" ], [ "He attempted suicide to escape his visions, spending two minutes in Hell.", "Spent two minutes in Hell." ], [ "To get a reprieve from his lung cancer. ", "To save him from lunch cancer" ], [ "That all of Hell is waiting for Constantine to pass away.", "All of Hell is waiting for him to die." ], [ "She wants to know why her twin sister committed suicide.", "to investigate her twin sister's death or suicide" ], [ "Seeing demons chase Angela down the sttreet.", "Demons chase her" ], [ "Her soul is confined to the depths of Hell.", "In hell" ], [ "Mammon, the son of the Devil.", "Mammon" ], [ "The Spear of Destiny.", "spear" ], [ "That Isabel's soul be released to heaven.", "Let Isabel go to Heaven" ] ]

[ [ "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", "to go, Dave suddenly\n explodes ahead and wins by an inch or so. He raises his arms\n in the air.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n NEW ANGLE\n Cyril, Moocher and Mike are running toward Dave. They are\n Jubilant. They jump on Dave knocking him down. Mike's'\n brother runs up and...\n\n CLOSEUP - THE BROTHERS\n There's a look of family pride as they embrace.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Nancy", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", " But she will not let him give her any sympathy.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n So,\"I think you should go. You\n should come 'home singing with a\n trophy. You should do all that.\n while you can.\n\n DAVE\n I win this one for you, Mama.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Now that would be nice.\n\n EXT. ROAD - DAY 132\n\n We see Mike's car with Dave's bike on top.\n\n EX", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "gives up,\n and turns toward the parking lot just as we see Dave on his\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 18\n 15 Cont.\n bicycle chasing after the paper. He cuts through the cars,\n he cuts in front of them. The horns blow. The brakes\n screech. All Dave sees is the paper. He's on a mission.\n He cuts through the pedestrians crossing the street\n maneuvering", "them right in front of him. The Italian music is\n still playing as he catches up to them and pulls up behind\n Rod who's riding on the inside. They are going around the\n curve. Rod drifts out a bit and that's all the room that\n Dave needs. He takes the inside edge as they come around\n for the final stretch. All three of them stand up and begin\n their final sprint. It looks dead even as they're\n approaching the finish line. A man is waving the checkered\n flag. Then, with about forty yards", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", "76\n They, too are shouting something, but Dave no longer hears\n -hem. The Italian music is playing through his head. It's\n irresistable and he gives himself over to it for one last\n time. He no longer hears the crowd shouting, nor anything\n else except the music, and music seems to be carrying him\n forward. His face registers the emotion of hearing it...of\n giving himself over to it...and of a kind of farewell to'it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", "86\n 162 Cont.\n\n CLOSEUP - .THE RACE\n The riders begin their mad scramble for positions. The entire\n width of the track is taken up by them. Rod is in first\n place. Dave is dead last but trying to move up.\n\n CLOSEUP..- DAVE\n He's riding and looking for openings. Whenever. a little\n space offers itself, he shoots through it and moves up. As\n everyone goes wide on the first turn, he takes it on the\n ", "UT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's going all out. He's in terrible pain, but he's about\n fifty yards ahead of his pursuers. As he approaches his pit\n area, he waves for help and raises a. single finger.\n\n CUT TO\n Cant.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 89\n 168 cont.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", "waving a flag signaling the\n last lap. Rod and the black guy go past him. Dave is behind\n them and gaining.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 5 67\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 95\n 177 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON THE BACKSTRETCH\n Rod and the black rider are riding abreast now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He sees", " MR. BLASE\n Yeah, so what. I've lived fifty\n years without ever getting a\n trophy.\n\n DAVE\n You never got trophy, Papa?\n\n MR. BLASE\n No, never, and what's more...\n Dave interrupts.\n\n DAVE\n Here, Papa. I give you. You\n are 'Numero Uno.' King Papa.\n Dave hands him the trophy. Mr. Blase is stunned. He'takes\n it. Before he", "\n CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 52\n 98 Cont.1\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AND KATHERINE\n They are all alone now. Everybody on their side has left\n to see the fight. They get up too to have a look.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V.\n He sees his friends surrounded and battling back. He wants\n", "ase looks at her surprised by her outburst. Dave X\n rides past them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 175\n Moocher, Cyril and Mike are jumping up and down.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n Nets coming around. He is gaining and making up lost ground.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - HIS PARENTS 1" ], [ ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "might be a father.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Yes, I might, and your mom might be-\n a mother and you might be a brother.\n That way I keep it all in the family.\n\n MOOCHER\n I didn't think people your age...\n Mr. Blase interrupts.\n\n MR. BLASE\n The'next. word might be your last,\n kid.\n Dave looks at him. Then he looks at his mother. She smiles.\n Dave looks back at his father.\n", ". Come here at night\n and...I cut the stone for that\n building over there-...\n\n DAVE\n Yes,. I know, Dad.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I was one fine stonecutter...\n Mike's dad...Moocher's, Cyrii's\n ...we all were. Well, Cyril's\n dad...Ah, never mind. The thing\n is. I loved it. I was young,\n slim and strong and damn proud\n of my work. • .and", "Dave there. And he's unhappy because\n Dave seems happy.\n\n MR. BLASE\n ,Hey, no whistling. You're a\n shag boy, so- shag. If I wanted\n whistling, I'd get a bird.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's washing cars. He stops whistling and washes eagerly.\n The-sun's reflected in the car's windows.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANG", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", " You too.\n\n DAVE\n I'm not going anywhere.\n\n KATHERINE\n I don't know about that. X\n\n X\n She walks away.\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 159\n\n It's dinnertime. Dave and Moocher are having meat and\n potatoes. Mr.. Blase is comtemplating halt a head of lettuce\n and some crackers. Mrs. Blase is at the stove.\n\n MR. BLA", "ase looks at her surprised by her outburst. Dave X\n rides past them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 175\n Moocher, Cyril and Mike are jumping up and down.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n Nets coming around. He is gaining and making up lost ground.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - HIS PARENTS 1", " says he took that college exam.\n\n DAVE\n Yeah, both of us did.\n\n MR. BLASE '\n So, how did...how did both of\n you do?\n\n DAVE\n Well, I think, eh, one of us\n did all right. But neither\n of us...eh...I won't go, Dad.\n The hell with them. I'm not\n ashamed of being a cutter. I\n don't want you feeling bad.\n\n MR. B", "Cont.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n Dave's never thumbed anything at\n anybody.\n\n MR. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n That's because he hasn't been to\n collegeI Besides he's probably\n too stupid to get in.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n (o.s .)\n Don't say that. He'll hear you.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I don't care. It's my house", "SE\n If you eat so much, Moocher, how\n come you're so damn small?\n\n MOOCHER\n It's my metabolism, Mr. Blase.\n I eat three times a day, but my\n metabolism eats five times a day.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, I go back to work tomorrow.\n\n DAVE\n Aren't you going to come and see us\n race, Dad?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He's", "SE\n Who says it's good enough for me?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n You do.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Damn right it's good enough for\n me. But...I don't need help.\n Besides...he'd ruin me if I hired\n him. A weirdo like that...\n It's clear that Mr. Blase has higher hopes for Dave which he\n has difficulty admitting even to himself.\n\n INT. DAVE'S ROOM - NIGHT 117\n", " DAVE\n You see, Katherine...\n\n A K THERINE\n Katherina!\n\n DAVE\n I feel terrible.\n His Italian accent is no longer in use and it makes Katherine\n ,just a tiny bit nervous.\n\n KATHERINE\n You sound real funny tonight.\n Che Cosa, Franco?\n\n DAVE\n My name is Dave Blase.\n\n KATHERINE:\n What's that supposed to mean?\n\n DAVE\n Nothing", ".\n\n G=\n Dave...is Moocher home?\n But Dave just rides past her in a daydream.\n\n CLOSEUP - A COUPLE ON A PORCH\n They're older PEOPLE. The Man is drinking a beer.\n\n WOMAN\n Tsk. Tsk. He was as normal\n as pumpkin pie and'now look x\n at him.\n The Man lets out a long beer belch.\n\n WOMAN\n His poor parents.\n\n", "LASE\n Don't do me any favors, eh.\n What, you afraid.\n\n DAVE\n Yeah, a little. And then, there's\n the rest of the guys.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, you took the exam. You\n did all right, eh?\n\n DAVE\n Yeah.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, that's...that's good.\n Your mom...\n (pauses, wants to\n say something,\n\n", "looks and feels that he has a right to be\n there.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AND THE GIRL\n They're riding double on Dave's bicycle. She's carrying his\n books. The book on top is Beginning French.\n\n DAVE\n French is my major. It's just my\n first year, of course. Have you\n ever seen Le Tour de France?\n\n He gives it his best French accent.\n\n GIRL\n No.\n", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", " CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's sitting next to his bike on the grass and looking around\n at all of them. In his hands he has his Italian Phrase Book:\n the book being his admission ticket into this world. It's\n obvious he's feeling a little out of place, but he enjoys\n looking at the campus world. A campus Police Car drives by\n and Dave quickly hides his face in the book. Waits for it\n to pass and when he looks up he is struck by something.\n\n MED. SHOT" ], [ "brilliantly.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - A COLLEGE GUY\n He's just walking. He sees the piece of paper flying around\n and grabs it casually. Just as he's ready to read it a hand\n appears in the FRAME and snatches it away from him. It's\n Dave, riding away with the piece of paper in his hand. The\n College Guy just stands and looks after him.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE", " DAVE\n You see, Katherine...\n\n A K THERINE\n Katherina!\n\n DAVE\n I feel terrible.\n His Italian accent is no longer in use and it makes Katherine\n ,just a tiny bit nervous.\n\n KATHERINE\n You sound real funny tonight.\n Che Cosa, Franco?\n\n DAVE\n My name is Dave Blase.\n\n KATHERINE:\n What's that supposed to mean?\n\n DAVE\n Nothing", "- KATHERINE - DAVE'S P.0.V.\n She's coming out of a classroom building with a bunch of books\n and papers in her hands. The wind is blowing her hair back.\n The CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON her face, isolating her from all the\n others, just as Dave is doing.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His mouth is open. He blinks once. He swallows.\n\n DAVE\n Mama mia I\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", ". It's just a name. I made\n it all up. I was born in Bloomington.\n I went to Bloomington High. I was\n the treasurer of the Latin Club and\n head of the Ushers for our assembly\n programs...I...\n\n KATHERINE\n Stop kidding around.\n\n DAVE\n I'm what you call 'a cutter.' F\n Only I'm not really a cutter\n either, so I don't know what I\n am.\n\n ", " off the paper on his jersey, and then gives it to her.\n\n DAVE\n It is yours...no?\n She takes the paper and smiles. Then she laughs.\n\n KATHERINE\n You mean you've been chasing\n me with this? Well, that's\n redly something. Thank you\n very much. Talk about chivalry.\n Dave is just looking at her. She's never seen anyone look\n at her quite like that. She's a bit confused.\n\n K", "I just didn't know how else...\n\n KATHERINE\n Do you know what you are?\n\n DAVE\n No, I haven't a clue.\n\n KATEINE\n I'll tell you what you are.\n\n (STARTS CRYING)\n I'll tell you. You...You...\n But she's too upset to tell him anything. She runs inside\n the classroom. The doors close. Dave stands still. The\n door opens. Dave smiles as Katherine reappears.", "from.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" 8/12/78 10\n 7 Cont.1\n\n CLOSEUP - THE COLLEGE KIDS\n The girl Dave saw, KATHERINE, is looking after the car\n holding a cracked Frisbee in her hand. The tall well-built\n guy next to her, ROD, her boyfriend, looks real upset.\n He is", "KATHERINE\n And Napoli...and the big family...\n Dave just nods that they were all lies.\n\n KAT IE\n Well, it was a good act. You\n certainly fooled me.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 81\n RrVISED - '\"BAMBOO\" - 9/13/78\n\n X\n 154 Cont.1\n\n DAVE\n ", "ATHERINE\n Well, thanks again.\n\n DAVE\n Is nothing...niente...signorina.\n\n KATHERINE\n What're you...an exchange student\n or something?\n\n - DAVE\n Si. I am Italian. My name\n is ENRICO GIMONDI. X\n\n KATHERINE\n And mine is Katherine Maxwell.\n\n DAVE\n Ah, Katherinal\n Cont.\n\n 367\n\n \n", " DAVE\n Si...T. just study too hard.\n I have big exam tomorrow.\n\n KATHERINE\n Are you going back to Italy\n in the sunmter ?\n\n DAVE\n Si,..My papa needs help.\n\n KATHERINE\n Well, I called up my parents.\n I'm getting a graduation present.\n We can go to Italy together.\n Dave suddenly seems to wake up.\n\n DAVE €¢\n Maybe I have to go", " You too.\n\n DAVE\n I'm not going anywhere.\n\n KATHERINE\n I don't know about that. X\n\n X\n She walks away.\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 159\n\n It's dinnertime. Dave and Moocher are having meat and\n potatoes. Mr.. Blase is comtemplating halt a head of lettuce\n and some crackers. Mrs. Blase is at the stove.\n\n MR. BLA", "Oh yeah! Watch this.\n All three of them start up the long stairway leading to the\n fortress-like Union.\n\n INT. STUDENT UNION - NIGHT 93\n\n Rod and his Girl are looking for a place to sit. Seeing no\n empty spots in the area they head toward the area where Dave\n and Katherine are sitting. Just as they're about to turn the\n corner and probably see them somebody gets up and Rod takes\n the table.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DA", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", " MED. SHOT - KATHERINE\n As she's walking, she transfers her books from one hand to\n the other. A piece of paper escapes her and flies away in\n the wind.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He sees the paper fly away and jumps up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE\n She tries to go after the paper but the traffic keeps her from\n crossing the street. The paper's flying away. She", "your.\n picture: Ah, they are saying,\n how we miss our Katherina, our\n bambina...\n Katherine is near tears. The homelife Dave's describing is\n obviously not hers. Not wanting to cry she takes out a\n cigarette and a lighter and Dave, being a continental\n gentleman, takes the lighter from her. He doesn't know what\n to make of it. He fiddles with it and then strikes and a\n huge jet of flame shoots out. Dave-is frightened. He lets\n go of the", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", "looks and feels that he has a right to be\n there.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AND THE GIRL\n They're riding double on Dave's bicycle. She's carrying his\n books. The book on top is Beginning French.\n\n DAVE\n French is my major. It's just my\n first year, of course. Have you\n ever seen Le Tour de France?\n\n He gives it his best French accent.\n\n GIRL\n No.\n", "'s stunned to see her\n here.\n\n DAVE\n What're you doing here?\n Katherine shrugs. They both half smile at each other.\n\n SATAEAINE\n Guess what?\n Now Dave shrugs.\n\n DAVE\n I don't know..\n\n KATD1E\n I got a job in Chicago.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED -", "wind.\n Students are going to and from classes. We see Dave among\n them pushing his bike along. He's wearing a Phi Kappa Psi\n jacket.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks quite collegiate and he seems to know it. But it's\n fall and fall makes you think of other days and Dave seems\n to be doing just that. A GIRL walks up to him. She seems\n quite lost. She speaks with a definite French accent.\n\n GIRL\n Pardon...do you" ], [ "Through the revolving doors\n the Campus Police arrive'led by Mike's brother.\n\n KATHERINE\n We go now.\n Katherine takes Dave by the Arm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAMPUS POLICE\n They are breaking up the fight. Mike's brother looks\n angrily at Mike and the guys as he pulls Rod away.\n\n ROD\n The cutters started itt\n\n CLOSEUP - MIKE'S BROTHER\n His", "brilliantly.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - A COLLEGE GUY\n He's just walking. He sees the piece of paper flying around\n and grabs it casually. Just as he's ready to read it a hand\n appears in the FRAME and snatches it away from him. It's\n Dave, riding away with the piece of paper in his hand. The\n College Guy just stands and looks after him.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE", " to help but Katherine is right there.\n\n KATHERINE'S P.O.V.\n She sees Rod.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The fight is going at full blast.\n\n KATHERINE\n What's going on.\n\n GIRL\n Just some cutters making trouble.,\n Dave'-is stung by this remark. He plows into the fight.\n Katherine grabs rim and tries to pull him away. She can\n not tell which side he is on.", "your.\n picture: Ah, they are saying,\n how we miss our Katherina, our\n bambina...\n Katherine is near tears. The homelife Dave's describing is\n obviously not hers. Not wanting to cry she takes out a\n cigarette and a lighter and Dave, being a continental\n gentleman, takes the lighter from her. He doesn't know what\n to make of it. He fiddles with it and then strikes and a\n huge jet of flame shoots out. Dave-is frightened. He lets\n go of the", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", "Oh yeah! Watch this.\n All three of them start up the long stairway leading to the\n fortress-like Union.\n\n INT. STUDENT UNION - NIGHT 93\n\n Rod and his Girl are looking for a place to sit. Seeing no\n empty spots in the area they head toward the area where Dave\n and Katherine are sitting. Just as they're about to turn the\n corner and probably see them somebody gets up and Rod takes\n the table.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DA", " DAVE\n You see, Katherine...\n\n A K THERINE\n Katherina!\n\n DAVE\n I feel terrible.\n His Italian accent is no longer in use and it makes Katherine\n ,just a tiny bit nervous.\n\n KATHERINE\n You sound real funny tonight.\n Che Cosa, Franco?\n\n DAVE\n My name is Dave Blase.\n\n KATHERINE:\n What's that supposed to mean?\n\n DAVE\n Nothing", "and several of his Frat Brothers are rushing out toward\n Rod's Mercedes convertible.\n\n CUT TO:\n EXT. CHI-DELI SORORITY - CLOSEUP OF TEE WINDOW 74 x\n The Girls are applauding. Katherine is not there.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is riding away on Dave's bike. Cyril looks on.\n\n EXT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 75\n\n The last light goes-out as En", "Spitz in our fraternity\n but he wouldn't ride. -Who's the\n girl with him?\n\n CLOSEUP - ROD AND KATHERINE\n\n ROD\n Suzy says this guy's sent you X\n flowers.\n\n KATHERINE\n So what? You never sent me\n flowers.\n\n ROD\n Who is he, Kathy?\n\n KATHERINE\n Just some crazy guy I met. God,\n I don't know what'", "from.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" 8/12/78 10\n 7 Cont.1\n\n CLOSEUP - THE COLLEGE KIDS\n The girl Dave saw, KATHERINE, is looking after the car\n holding a cracked Frisbee in her hand. The tall well-built\n guy next to her, ROD, her boyfriend, looks real upset.\n He is", " Mike stands up. He's ready to walk away. He pauses\n suddenly... On the other side of the quarry he sees Rod\n and his group. Dave sees Katherine and without making it\n obvious to the others leans back behind a rock.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Mike is looking at Rod. Rod sees him and just stands there.\n His friends, Katherine included, seem to be trying to get\n him to leave. But he doesn't. Mike feels the eyes of his\n gang on him. He gestures to Rod", ".\n\n CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n 5 67\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\"_ 8/12/78 19\n 16 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE\n She's crossing the street just as the light changes. Dave\n crosses on the red light. Once again he's nearly hit by\n several cars. He follows Katherine up the hill leading to\n Fr", "s gotten into\n you.\n\n ROD\n And what I want to know is has\n he gotten into you, Bath?\n She slaps him. Rod looks around to see if anyone saw that he\n got hit.- A SHOT of Katherine's girl friend, Suzy. She saw.\n She smiles at Rod. He looks away from her.\n\n X\n She gets up. Leaves a quarter for the coffee and leaves.\n Rod looks around once again, and once again he sees Suzy\n smiling at him. He looks", " You too.\n\n DAVE\n I'm not going anywhere.\n\n KATHERINE\n I don't know about that. X\n\n X\n She walks away.\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 159\n\n It's dinnertime. Dave and Moocher are having meat and\n potatoes. Mr.. Blase is comtemplating halt a head of lettuce\n and some crackers. Mrs. Blase is at the stove.\n\n MR. BLA", "I just didn't know how else...\n\n KATHERINE\n Do you know what you are?\n\n DAVE\n No, I haven't a clue.\n\n KATEINE\n I'll tell you what you are.\n\n (STARTS CRYING)\n I'll tell you. You...You...\n But she's too upset to tell him anything. She runs inside\n the classroom. The doors close. Dave stands still. The\n door opens. Dave smiles as Katherine reappears.", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", "\n CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 52\n 98 Cont.1\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AND KATHERINE\n They are all alone now. Everybody on their side has left\n to see the fight. They get up too to have a look.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V.\n He sees his friends surrounded and battling back. He wants\n", " off the paper on his jersey, and then gives it to her.\n\n DAVE\n It is yours...no?\n She takes the paper and smiles. Then she laughs.\n\n KATHERINE\n You mean you've been chasing\n me with this? Well, that's\n redly something. Thank you\n very much. Talk about chivalry.\n Dave is just looking at her. She's never seen anyone look\n at her quite like that. She's a bit confused.\n\n K", "- KATHERINE - DAVE'S P.0.V.\n She's coming out of a classroom building with a bunch of books\n and papers in her hands. The wind is blowing her hair back.\n The CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON her face, isolating her from all the\n others, just as Dave is doing.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His mouth is open. He blinks once. He swallows.\n\n DAVE\n Mama mia I\n\n CUT TO:\n\n" ], [ "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", "tie. The CAMERA PULLS BACK.\n A dozen other student \"leaders\" are there. One of them is\n black. The PRESIDENT is at his desk. On his far right we\n see Mike's brother sitting alone.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Most of you will only spend four\n years here but to a lot of us\n Bloomington is our home and .1\n don't like the way you are behaving\n in my home. These needless\n hostilities have happened before.\n They will not", " says he took that college exam.\n\n DAVE\n Yeah, both of us did.\n\n MR. BLASE '\n So, how did...how did both of\n you do?\n\n DAVE\n Well, I think, eh, one of us\n did all right. But neither\n of us...eh...I won't go, Dad.\n The hell with them. I'm not\n ashamed of being a cutter. I\n don't want you feeling bad.\n\n MR. B", ".\n Thirty-year-old Mike. Old mean old\n man Mike. But the college kids will\n never get old...out of shape...'cause\n new ones come every year. And they'll\n keep calling us 'cutters.' To them\n it's a dirty word but to me it'll\n just be something else I never got\n a chance to be.\n He falls silent and sticks a cigarette in his mouth. His\n genuine confession has caught everybody,. including himself,\n off guard. The guys look at him with sympathy and", "seem to be bothered by it. One of them looks.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n Well, look who's back.\n He has to shout to be heard. The others look.\n\n ANGLE ON MR. BLASE\n He's glad to be back but he's also trying to keep a little\n distance as if proud of how far he had come in life. He\n smiles and waves grandly, his suit and tie sticking out in\n this surrounding.\n 567 Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n", "Through the revolving doors\n the Campus Police arrive'led by Mike's brother.\n\n KATHERINE\n We go now.\n Katherine takes Dave by the Arm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAMPUS POLICE\n They are breaking up the fight. Mike's brother looks\n angrily at Mike and the guys as he pulls Rod away.\n\n ROD\n The cutters started itt\n\n CLOSEUP - MIKE'S BROTHER\n His", " \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 40\n\n X\n 58-c Cont.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n Damn it you don't look like\n one of them\n Government Safety Inspectors.\n\n CUTTER TWO\n No, a Union Organizer.\n They all laugh and get up to greet him. All except one\n younger man who continues sitting and eating. The Cutters\n slap Mr", "\n place and yet out of place. A Man is shouting at him. He\n can't hear. He finally hears him.\n\n CURTER ONE\n\n YOUR SON. HOW'S YOUR SON\n\n DOING.\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n FINE. JUST FINE.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n\n THAT'S MINE OVER THERE.\n A SHOT of the Cutter who didn't know Mr. Blase. Mr. Blase\n sits down in the chair", "anger changes direction as he looks back at Rod.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 53\n\n ESTABLISHING SHOT - THE DOOR OF THE PRESIDENT OF 99\n\n THE UNIVERSITY\n\n INT. PRESIDENT'S OFFICE - CLOSEUP - ROD - DAY\n\n He's well-dressed. Jacket and", ". Blase on the back, their dusty hands leaving dusty\n imprints on his jacket.\n\n CVITER THREE\n We'll start you as an\n apprentice again.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Like hell you will. I'm j us t\n visiting. But if I wanted to\n come back I could pick up where\n I left off.\n The entrance to the shop draws him forward. A couple of the\n Cutters accompany him. He takes half of a sandwich from one\n of them. It'", "s lunch hour at the shop and the old instincts\n are coming back.\n\n YOUNG CUTTER\n Who's he?\n Mr. Blase looks back over his shoulder hurt by this remark.\n\n I . SHOP DAY\n The NOISE is now DEAFENING. Dust is everywhere and slowly\n through the dust we see men working, pausing only long enough\n to smile and wave at Mr. Blase. Mr. Blase is finishing off\n his sandwich just like the Cutter next to him who walks to\n", " ANNOUNCER\n (o.s.; on radio)\n And so after twenty-five laps,\n the perennial favorites are up\n front. Sigma Nu, Phi Kappa Psi,\n Sigma Alpha Epsilon ...and here\n comes...It's'the Cutters.\n Mr. Blase hits the car horn.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\"", "he wishes he didn't. Moocher\n resigns himself to the inevitable. Starts wrapping a\n handkerchief around his fist. Cyril is cringing.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 51\n 98 Cont.\n\n CYRIL\n That's a nice major...Sosh.\n\n ROD\n What're you cutters doing here?\n Did you get lost.\n No.", "out. He looks\n at the shop. The NOISE of MACHINERY is HEARD from the huge\n building. The NOISE gets LOUDER as Mr. Blase walks toward\n it, trying to avoid stepping into the Limestone dust with his\n polished shoes, but the dust is everywhere.\n\n EXT. SHOP ENTRANCE 58-C\n\n Several CUTTERS are having lunch. They are eating heartily\n right outside the shop. The NOISE is EVEN LOUDER but they\n don't", " on Mr. Blase's body.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n THE MACHINERY\n Cranes are moving overhead. Huge blades are spinning huge\n columns of limestone, chisels indenting grooves.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n MR. BLASE\n He's borrowing a cigarette from a Cutter, lighting it. He's\n tired and out of breath. The man moves on to do his work.\n Mr, Blase smokes his cigarette looking on...in,love with this", ". Come here at night\n and...I cut the stone for that\n building over there-...\n\n DAVE\n Yes,. I know, Dad.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I was one fine stonecutter...\n Mike's dad...Moocher's, Cyrii's\n ...we all were. Well, Cyril's\n dad...Ah, never mind. The thing\n is. I loved it. I was young,\n slim and strong and damn proud\n of my work. • .and", "not far away. Then she turns slowly\n and leaves-bidding a farewell, in a way, to a portion of her\n life.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" -6/16/78 96\n\n X\n 177 Cont.1\n\n CLOSEUP - THE CUTTERS\n Dave and his parents are walking off. Mike and his brother\n are arm in", "facing each other. Mr. Blase picks up a carrot\n stick and chomps on it. Mrs. Blase.chomps on hers.\n Mr. Blase is so unsettled by the way his wife looks that he\n almost seems to be enjoying the carrot stick.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n How about a little mus,.c?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. CHI-DELT SORORITY - NIGHT 66\n\n Cyril is standing next to the building. He starts P", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "happen again. If\n you feel compelled to compete with\n the kids from the town then you\n will do it in a different arena.\n I am looking at a plan to open\n our intramural program to them.\n And as a starting point, in\n consultation with Mr. Armstrong,\n we have decided to expand the\n field of this year's Little 500\n to include a team from the town.\n A loud protest is heard from everybody.\n\n ROD -\n But, sir, they're not" ], [ "brakes on.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is taking the front wheel off. He's peeling the tire off\n the rim ready to put on a spare. Katherine is driving toward\n him. He sees her. She sees him. As she goes past him she\n slows down a little but enough to.make Rod almost run into\n her.\n\n ROD\n What the hell you doing,\n\n KATHY I\n She speeds up and she and the bike riders go past Dave.\n On the", "the wheels are out. The cranks are off and the\n crankshaft has been removed. Dave is holding the saddle in\n his hand. He's pushing down on it. It's very hard.\n\n • CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - KITCHEN\n pouring olive oil into a large pan. The pan is on a hotplate.\n He puts the saddle into the pan and covers it. Mrs. Blase in\n the kitchen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE", "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B", "ON DAVE - GARAGE\n truing one of the wheels. It's in the truing stand and he's\n tightening the spokes with a spoke wrench. He spins the wheel.\n It spins fine.\n\n CUT TO:\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE x\n reassembling the rear wheel. Putting grease on the ball\n bearings.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - KITCHEN X\n taking the saddle out of pot of olive", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", " ANOTHER ANGLE\n Rod and five of his Fraternity Brothers are riding their\n bicycles behind the car.\n\n ROD\n Keep your elbows bent. That's\n right. PICK IT UP KATHY!\n Thirty an hourl\n\n EXT. FURTHER UP THE ROAD - DAY\n\n Dave is riding his bicycle. A sudden explosive noise of a\n tire going flat.\n\n DAVE\n\n AHL STROONZI\n He puts the", "s coming around the turn and he swings off and heads to\n his pit area.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9O\n 168 Cont.].\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n We see Moocher, Cyril and Mike. All of them are panicking.\n They seem to be pushing each other forward. Nobody wants\n to be the one to get on the bike", ". But\n he doesn't want to kill himself doing it. He's thinking.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE HILL 136\n The Italians are switching off as they begin another ascent.\n It's Dave's turn to take the lead. As he goes up front the\n 1st Italian reaches in and pushes Dave's lever all the way\n forward. This suddenly shifts Dave into a very high gear.\n He can hardly turn the cranks. The 1st Italian smiles at", "UT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's going all out. He's in terrible pain, but he's about\n fifty yards ahead of his pursuers. As he approaches his pit\n area, he waves for help and raises a. single finger.\n\n CUT TO\n Cant.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 89\n 168 cont.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", "\n grabs it. Hesitates. Jumps on. Cyril collapses near Dave.\n Cyril seems quite happy.\n\n CYRIL\n We're doing better than I thought\n we would.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON MIKE\n Re's riding like a bull. He goes too hard and drifts out in\n the turns. He almost runs into pit ONE where Rod is resting\n and watching him. He gets back in the groove.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "only he's not coasting. He's\n pumping as hard as he can.\n\n 567 CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 71\n 134 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON THE ITALIANS\n They are still in their descent. The hill is steep and they\n are going very fast. Suddenly, Dave, bent over and breathing\n hard appears in the FRAME. He tries to appear that he's not\n", "oil. He feels the\n saddle.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE\n assembling the crankshaft and putting on the cranks. He spins\n the cranks. They spin rapidly on their own.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE\n taking the. chain out of a kerosene bath.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE\n oiling the chain.\n\n", ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", "12t78 64\n\n X\n 119-A Cont.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Exhausted?\n\n DAVE\n Yes.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Good. You might as well get used\n to it. From now on it's more of the\n same. Let's go home.\n\n DAVE\n I have to train.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - NIGHT 120\n\n Dave is riding his bike.", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "Trooper.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's still going hard only now there's no truck in front of\n him. He looks back over his shoulder and sees the truck and\n the State Trooper at the side of the road. Dave continues.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n Sweat is dripping down his chin. Pain is beginning to distort\n his face. But his legs move in the same rhythmical motion.\n\n A LONG SHOT\n We see Dave and his" ], [ "brilliantly.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - A COLLEGE GUY\n He's just walking. He sees the piece of paper flying around\n and grabs it casually. Just as he's ready to read it a hand\n appears in the FRAME and snatches it away from him. It's\n Dave, riding away with the piece of paper in his hand. The\n College Guy just stands and looks after him.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE", " DAVE\n You see, Katherine...\n\n A K THERINE\n Katherina!\n\n DAVE\n I feel terrible.\n His Italian accent is no longer in use and it makes Katherine\n ,just a tiny bit nervous.\n\n KATHERINE\n You sound real funny tonight.\n Che Cosa, Franco?\n\n DAVE\n My name is Dave Blase.\n\n KATHERINE:\n What's that supposed to mean?\n\n DAVE\n Nothing", "KATHERINE\n And Napoli...and the big family...\n Dave just nods that they were all lies.\n\n KAT IE\n Well, it was a good act. You\n certainly fooled me.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 81\n RrVISED - '\"BAMBOO\" - 9/13/78\n\n X\n 154 Cont.1\n\n DAVE\n ", "your.\n picture: Ah, they are saying,\n how we miss our Katherina, our\n bambina...\n Katherine is near tears. The homelife Dave's describing is\n obviously not hers. Not wanting to cry she takes out a\n cigarette and a lighter and Dave, being a continental\n gentleman, takes the lighter from her. He doesn't know what\n to make of it. He fiddles with it and then strikes and a\n huge jet of flame shoots out. Dave-is frightened. He lets\n go of the", "- KATHERINE - DAVE'S P.0.V.\n She's coming out of a classroom building with a bunch of books\n and papers in her hands. The wind is blowing her hair back.\n The CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON her face, isolating her from all the\n others, just as Dave is doing.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His mouth is open. He blinks once. He swallows.\n\n DAVE\n Mama mia I\n\n CUT TO:\n\n", "I just didn't know how else...\n\n KATHERINE\n Do you know what you are?\n\n DAVE\n No, I haven't a clue.\n\n KATEINE\n I'll tell you what you are.\n\n (STARTS CRYING)\n I'll tell you. You...You...\n But she's too upset to tell him anything. She runs inside\n the classroom. The doors close. Dave stands still. The\n door opens. Dave smiles as Katherine reappears.", "'s stunned to see her\n here.\n\n DAVE\n What're you doing here?\n Katherine shrugs. They both half smile at each other.\n\n SATAEAINE\n Guess what?\n Now Dave shrugs.\n\n DAVE\n I don't know..\n\n KATD1E\n I got a job in Chicago.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED -", " off the paper on his jersey, and then gives it to her.\n\n DAVE\n It is yours...no?\n She takes the paper and smiles. Then she laughs.\n\n KATHERINE\n You mean you've been chasing\n me with this? Well, that's\n redly something. Thank you\n very much. Talk about chivalry.\n Dave is just looking at her. She's never seen anyone look\n at her quite like that. She's a bit confused.\n\n K", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", " MED. SHOT - KATHERINE\n As she's walking, she transfers her books from one hand to\n the other. A piece of paper escapes her and flies away in\n the wind.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He sees the paper fly away and jumps up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE\n She tries to go after the paper but the traffic keeps her from\n crossing the street. The paper's flying away. She", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", " You too.\n\n DAVE\n I'm not going anywhere.\n\n KATHERINE\n I don't know about that. X\n\n X\n She walks away.\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 159\n\n It's dinnertime. Dave and Moocher are having meat and\n potatoes. Mr.. Blase is comtemplating halt a head of lettuce\n and some crackers. Mrs. Blase is at the stove.\n\n MR. BLA", "Oh yeah! Watch this.\n All three of them start up the long stairway leading to the\n fortress-like Union.\n\n INT. STUDENT UNION - NIGHT 93\n\n Rod and his Girl are looking for a place to sit. Seeing no\n empty spots in the area they head toward the area where Dave\n and Katherine are sitting. Just as they're about to turn the\n corner and probably see them somebody gets up and Rod takes\n the table.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DA", "\n They part. Dave rides off. Cyril looks after him.\n\n EXT. ROAD - CLOSEUP - KATHERINE - DAY 24\n\n She's driving Rod's Mercedes convertible. She seems\n nervous and is constantly looking from the road to the\n rearview mirror.\n\n ROD\n Just keep it steady.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 22\n 24 Cont.\n\n", "a little troubled. He looks at her\n again.\n\n CLOSEUP - MRS. BLASE\n Through her tea's there's a little trace of a smile appearing.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n INT. DAVE'S ROOM - NIGHT 143\n\n He's taking down the last Italian poster and crumpling it up.\n The cat meows.\n\n DAVE\n You; hungry, Jake, is that it?\n\n 567\n Cont", ".\n\n CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n 5 67\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\"_ 8/12/78 19\n 16 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE\n She's crossing the street just as the light changes. Dave\n crosses on the red light. Once again he's nearly hit by\n several cars. He follows Katherine up the hill leading to\n Fr", "from.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" 8/12/78 10\n 7 Cont.1\n\n CLOSEUP - THE COLLEGE KIDS\n The girl Dave saw, KATHERINE, is looking after the car\n holding a cracked Frisbee in her hand. The tall well-built\n guy next to her, ROD, her boyfriend, looks real upset.\n He is", "her on the\n phone to tell her but- 3:...l\n Just couldn't.\n\n MOOCHER\n When she sees you in the race\n she'll find out. Maybe if she\n really likes you she won't care.\n You know Nancy and I...\n\n DAVE\n\n (CUTTING IN)\n What a mess. You're a Catholic,\n Moocher. You ever go to\n confession?\n • b400CEER\n Twice", " Mike stands up. He's ready to walk away. He pauses\n suddenly... On the other side of the quarry he sees Rod\n and his group. Dave sees Katherine and without making it\n obvious to the others leans back behind a rock.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Mike is looking at Rod. Rod sees him and just stands there.\n His friends, Katherine included, seem to be trying to get\n him to leave. But he doesn't. Mike feels the eyes of his\n gang on him. He gestures to Rod" ], [ "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "waving a flag signaling the\n last lap. Rod and the black guy go past him. Dave is behind\n them and gaining.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 5 67\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 95\n 177 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON THE BACKSTRETCH\n Rod and the black rider are riding abreast now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He sees", "them right in front of him. The Italian music is\n still playing as he catches up to them and pulls up behind\n Rod who's riding on the inside. They are going around the\n curve. Rod drifts out a bit and that's all the room that\n Dave needs. He takes the inside edge as they come around\n for the final stretch. All three of them stand up and begin\n their final sprint. It looks dead even as they're\n approaching the finish line. A man is waving the checkered\n flag. Then, with about forty yards", "86\n 162 Cont.\n\n CLOSEUP - .THE RACE\n The riders begin their mad scramble for positions. The entire\n width of the track is taken up by them. Rod is in first\n place. Dave is dead last but trying to move up.\n\n CLOSEUP..- DAVE\n He's riding and looking for openings. Whenever. a little\n space offers itself, he shoots through it and moves up. As\n everyone goes wide on the first turn, he takes it on the\n ", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "UT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's going all out. He's in terrible pain, but he's about\n fifty yards ahead of his pursuers. As he approaches his pit\n area, he waves for help and raises a. single finger.\n\n CUT TO\n Cant.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 89\n 168 cont.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34", "inside and moves up some more.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n Cyril, Moocher and Mike are beating on each other in their\n excitement.\n\n CYRIL\n He's moving up. Look at that\n\n DAGO GOT\n\n CUT TO:\n ANGLE ON LAP CEiART\n A big board with flip numbers shows: 200 laps to go. A man\n is reaching out to change the", "\n ANGLE ON THE LAP CHART\n It shows 5 laps to go.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE LEAD PACK\n Now all three riders are looking back over their shoulders.\n They see Dave coming on.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is getting ready to take an exchange for his final sprint.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see the black sprinter in Pit area 4 getting", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "\n grabs it. Hesitates. Jumps on. Cyril collapses near Dave.\n Cyril seems quite happy.\n\n CYRIL\n We're doing better than I thought\n we would.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON MIKE\n Re's riding like a bull. He goes too hard and drifts out in\n the turns. He almost runs into pit ONE where Rod is resting\n and watching him. He gets back in the groove.\n\n CUT TO:\n", ". But\n he doesn't want to kill himself doing it. He's thinking.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE HILL 136\n The Italians are switching off as they begin another ascent.\n It's Dave's turn to take the lead. As he goes up front the\n 1st Italian reaches in and pushes Dave's lever all the way\n forward. This suddenly shifts Dave into a very high gear.\n He can hardly turn the cranks. The 1st Italian smiles at", " while-a fresh rider jumps on.': Dave'is in the lead for a\n while, but the fresh riders catch up.\n\n CUT TO:'\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is sitting and resting. He's breathing hard. His fellow\n riders are slightly out of breath too.\n\n ROD\n He won't last.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n\n MIRE\n", "Trooper.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's still going hard only now there's no truck in front of\n him. He looks back over his shoulder and sees the truck and\n the State Trooper at the side of the road. Dave continues.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n Sweat is dripping down his chin. Pain is beginning to distort\n his face. But his legs move in the same rhythmical motion.\n\n A LONG SHOT\n We see Dave and his", "to go, Dave suddenly\n explodes ahead and wins by an inch or so. He raises his arms\n in the air.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n NEW ANGLE\n Cyril, Moocher and Mike are running toward Dave. They are\n Jubilant. They jump on Dave knocking him down. Mike's'\n brother runs up and...\n\n CLOSEUP - THE BROTHERS\n There's a look of family pride as they embrace.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Nancy", "s coming around the turn and he swings off and heads to\n his pit area.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9O\n 168 Cont.].\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n We see Moocher, Cyril and Mike. All of them are panicking.\n They seem to be pushing each other forward. Nobody wants\n to be the one to get on the bike", "\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 36\n 55 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's going all out now.. He's in.his highest gear.\n\n • CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE TRUCK DRIVER\n He looks at the speedometer. He's going sixty, He looks at\n the side mirror and still sees Dave. Suddenly he also sees\n a red flashing light and hears the siren of a State", "ER\n We are proud to have with us\n today the famous Team Cinzano\n from Italy. They are touring\n America and so far are undefeated.\n Later on they have been kind\n enough to agree to hold a racing\n clinic which none of you should\n miss.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the crowd of other racers and like all of them, his\n eyes are glued on the Italians.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is putting a banana and an", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4 177\n The three black riders look at each other.. They need a new\n plan, they seem to be thinking.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod and his teammates are watching Dave's progress. They\n shake their heads. He can't possibly catch up.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'" ], [ ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "s coming around the turn and he swings off and heads to\n his pit area.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9O\n 168 Cont.].\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n We see Moocher, Cyril and Mike. All of them are panicking.\n They seem to be pushing each other forward. Nobody wants\n to be the one to get on the bike", "He just stands there.\n The lead that they had is evaporating. The other riders are\n catching up. They are coming around the curve. Moocher runs\n up to Mike, pushes him away and gets on the bike. His\n intentions are great, but his legs are short. He can't sit\n in the saddle and reach the pedals. So he stands and rides\n just as the other teams come around.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is smiling", "announcer said so.\n He is genuinely proud.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Too bad he...\n He interrupts..\n\n MR. BLASE\n Too bad. nothing.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 171\n The lead r iders pass. Lagging behind them Moocher comes\n in for an exchange. Cyril takes the bike. His legs are\n so long his knees just about hit his chin but he takes off\n in pursuit. Moocher is exhausted.", "like they're going to save\n Rod for the sprint. You get on\n when he does. Stay behind him\n until the last turn...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA 34\n Moocher is exhausted. Dave is depressed as hell. He\"s got\n adhesive tape in his hand but he doesn't feel like putting\n it on his. Leg. The-race seems lost. Cyril-comes in for an\n exchange.- Mike is the only one who can take the bike. He", " while-a fresh rider jumps on.': Dave'is in the lead for a\n while, but the fresh riders catch up.\n\n CUT TO:'\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is sitting and resting. He's breathing hard. His fellow\n riders are slightly out of breath too.\n\n ROD\n He won't last.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n\n MIRE\n", "\n grabs it. Hesitates. Jumps on. Cyril collapses near Dave.\n Cyril seems quite happy.\n\n CYRIL\n We're doing better than I thought\n we would.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON MIKE\n Re's riding like a bull. He goes too hard and drifts out in\n the turns. He almost runs into pit ONE where Rod is resting\n and watching him. He gets back in the groove.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "at them. Cyril,\n Mike and Moocher look for Dave. The crowd is cheering.\n\n EXT. ROAD - DAY 140-A\n\n All the guys are riding in silence. Dave is crushed by his\n shattered Italian dream. Mendelsohn's Italian Symphony is\n playing: the second movement. They drive past the finish\n line of the race. The big cloth sign \"FINISH\" is still up\n fluttering in the wind. A man is taking it down. Everybody\n else is gone.", "lead. Mike looks at him. Rod\n looks at Mike.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"THE BAMBINO\" 6/16/78 92\n\n X\n 171 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n Three black guys are planning strategy. They see Rod getting\n off the bike.\n\n 1ST-BLACK RIDER\n Looks", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", " nervous of all. They walk past Rod's team. Rod is smiling\n and staring at Mike. Mike looks away. Cyril doesn't.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - TEE STARTER 162\n The crowd is hushed.\n\n STARTER\n Gentlemen, mount your bicycles!\n A great roar is heard.\n\n M E D. SHOT\n A pace car is leading the field around the track for one lap.\n Dignitaries from", "\" is stamped on\n the back of their T-shirts. There is something comical about\n this team. They are so uneven. Cyril is very tall. Moocher\n is very short. They are walking out of step. All the other\n teams are matched in height to accommodate the use of a bike\n w.th a set saddle position.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They seem very nervous. The roar of the crowd. The other\n teams. The foreign turf once again. Mike seems the most\n", "the riders' rears meet the saddles\n of their bicycles.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the middle of the pack. He looks over his shoulder\n and waves to Mike, Cyril and Moocher on the sideline.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE ITALIANS\n They are in the front. They are looking straight ahead.\n\n ANNOUNCER\n (o.s. )\n Riders ready[ Timers ready!\n A gun is fired. The Italians", "ready to take\n an exchange too. He and Rod look at each other.\n\n MED. SHOT\n Rod and. the black sprinter get their bikes at the same time\n and start to accelerate.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE-\n He passes the third rider from the lead group. Ahead of him\n he sees Rod and the black rider.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE LAP CHART\n It shows one lap to go. A man is", "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B", "Mike looks on. '\n �Vl Kole) : 134;\n Where's. Dave.\n Mike points across the track. Dave is-in the center of the\n field applying medication from a first-aid station.\n It's all over.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON CRYIL\n Bent over his bike like some human stork he's doing the\n best he can. He goes past Pit Area 34.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n", ".\n\n MIKE\n They're going to lap us.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n The black riders look up astonished.. Dave rides past their\n pit.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod sees Dave go past him. The rider for his team is not far\n behind him.\n\n ROD\n C'monl C'monl You got him!\n\n 5 67", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4 177\n The three black riders look at each other.. They need a new\n plan, they seem to be thinking.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod and his teammates are watching Dave's progress. They\n shake their heads. He can't possibly catch up.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "take off.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 70\n 133 Cont.1\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see the pack from the back as it moves forward slowly and\n then faster, and faster, the riders in the back working their\n way up.\n\n LONG SHOT\n The huge pack of riders is now disappearing around a bend in\n the road.\n\n TRUCKING SH" ], [ ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", "guys are swimming. Dave is holding his trophy casually,\n enjoying the beautiful day. He pulls out a little\n Italian Phrase Book. Finds what he wants.\n\n DAVE\n Oggi fa bello,-non e vero?\n\n MIKE\n Sure thing, partner.\n\n MOOCHER\n C'mon in.\n\n DAVE\n I read where this Italian coach\n said you should never swim after\n a race.\n\n CYRIL\n Who's swimming? I", "leaving the quarry.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He watches Katherine disappear. He's angry with himself.\n He jumps out of his hiding place into the water.\n\n CLOSEUP - MIS\n He's swimming in a total daze. Blood is dripping down his\n face. Dave is swimming toward him. Moocher and Cyril are\n behind Dave.\n Mike's arms go around Dave's neck. He's smiling a little\n through his pain. As he relaxes he lets his weight-", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", " You leave home.\n\n CYRIL\n My dad says Jesus never went\n further than fifty miles from\n his home.\n Mike is skipping down the rocks toward the water, taking\n clothes off as he does. The rest follow.\n\n MIKE\n And look what happened to him.\n Mike jumps into the water. Moocher and Cyril follow. Dave\n looks on.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. 1-A\n The", ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "There he is.\n Our trio heads for the bowling alley.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAFETERIA LINE 95\n Dave is standing directly behind Rod. In front of Rod are\n several hero-worshipping Guys listening to Rod.\n\n ROD\n The only way to train for\n bike racing is what we do in\n swi g : Interval training.\n\n DAVE\n The Germans... . they use interval\n training and the Italians... they\n", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "They see Mike standing on top of the rock above them.\n\n MIKE\n It's got no back on it!\n He laughs triumphantly. He's ready to dive in again when he\n pauses and looks. High above where he stands on the other\n side of the quarry hole, we see several figures. The guys\n are swimming toward the rocks and looking at the figures too.\n 5667 Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO", "'m taking a\n leak.\n Moocher and Mike splash water at him and swim away.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 6/16/78 4\n\n ROCKS BY THE WATER 1-B\n All four guys are sunbathing looking at the water. Deep X\n down, at the bottom of the quarry hole we see", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", " 59\n 'Ill Cont.1\n\n CLOSEUP - ROD AND MI1\n They are side-by-side. Rod is smiling. Mike takes off\n toward one end of the quarry swimming as fast as he can.\n Rod lets him go. Looks up at his friends and takes off\n after hiu. Mike is splashing clumsily but going as hard\n as he can. Rod is smooth and powerful. He catches up to\n Mike. He changes from breaststroke to backstroke. It's\n all so easy for him", "Dave there. And he's unhappy because\n Dave seems happy.\n\n MR. BLASE\n ,Hey, no whistling. You're a\n shag boy, so- shag. If I wanted\n whistling, I'd get a bird.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's washing cars. He stops whistling and washes eagerly.\n The-sun's reflected in the car's windows.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANG", "\n MIKE\n My brother says he saw you and\n Nancy. Moocher.\n\n MOOCHER\n When?\n\n MIKE\n Last Friday?\n\n MOOCHER\n Wasn't me. I'm not seeing her\n anymore.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n They are now standing above a huge pool of water with sheer\n cliffs on three sides. Abandoned derricks loom in the\n distance. Dave is now humming softly a Neapolitan song", "12t78 64\n\n X\n 119-A Cont.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Exhausted?\n\n DAVE\n Yes.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Good. You might as well get used\n to it. From now on it's more of the\n same. Let's go home.\n\n DAVE\n I have to train.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - NIGHT 120\n\n Dave is riding his bike.", "to come in the water. Mike\n runs up his rock and dives in. Rod dives off his side.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The two of them are swimming toward each other.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE CUTTERS\n\n CYRIL\n They're going to race.\n\n DAVE\n What the hell's he doing.\n That guy...\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "\n 'Molte grazia.'\n She's a little embarrassed by her Italian and Dave, the pro,\n gestures that it wasn't so bad. She leans over. They kiss.\n\n OUT 78\n EXx. BLOOMINGTON - CLOSEUP C.IL - DAY 79\n His face is all bruised. He's drinking a bottle of Coke'\n and walking. Mike, Cyril and Dave are with him. They are\n crossing the railroad tracks.\n\n MISS", "comes back to\n normal. That'd be great..\n\n MIKE\n How come you're so stupid, Cyril.\n\n CYRIL\n I don't know. I think I have\n a dumb heredity. What's your\n excuse, Mike?\n Mike hits him hard on the arm. Cyril winces. Mike stands up.\n He makes sure they're all watching and dives in. The guys\n talk as they follow his progress.\n\n DAVE\n You hear from your folks" ], [ "bicycle disappear down one. of the rolling\n hills and then reappear again on the incline.\n\n A LONGER SHOT\n Dave is now a dot on the horizon.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He shifts gears and starts to sprint. His face is agony now.\n\n CLOSEUP - A HIGHWAY SIGN\n\n \"WELCOME TO BLOOMINGTON: HOME OF INDIANA UNIVERSITY.\"\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n As Dave goes", "tie. The CAMERA PULLS BACK.\n A dozen other student \"leaders\" are there. One of them is\n black. The PRESIDENT is at his desk. On his far right we\n see Mike's brother sitting alone.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Most of you will only spend four\n years here but to a lot of us\n Bloomington is our home and .1\n don't like the way you are behaving\n in my home. These needless\n hostilities have happened before.\n They will not", "back of the riders' jerseys we see: Little 500.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks after them pumping up his spare.\n\n OUT 25-\n\n 31\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\n 32\n Mr. Blase is sitting at a table. Mrs. Blase is at the stove\n putting food on a plate.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Those college kids aren't so smart.\n I sold one of", "in the car.\n\n OUT 40-\n\n 41\n\n INT. STUDENT UNION - EVENING 42\n\n Jukebox is playing. Some kids are dancing. The place is\n packed. Here and there we see T-shirts with \"Little 500\"\n on them. The CAMERA PANS SLOWLY as we hear voices above the\n din.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "ries.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 2\n\n Mike is speeding through the town. A huge billboard with the\n Marlboro Man whizzes past us..\n\n INT. MIKE'S CAR\n\n - Mike looks angry. He's got an unlit cigarette in his mouth.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 3\n\n A car lot is on the right. \"CAMPUS CARS.\",\n\n MOOCHER\n Isn't your", "wearing a Little 500 T-shirt.\n\n ROD\n Dumbass cutters. Goddamn\n redneck retards.\n\n OUT 8\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE 9\n riding. A Neapolitan melody plays as Dave rides holding his\n trophy:. a romantic song of the south and not southern\n Indiana. The small houses could be Italian houses to\n Dave. The people sitting on porches and steps could be\n Italians. Dave waves", ". It's just a name. I made\n it all up. I was born in Bloomington.\n I went to Bloomington High. I was\n the treasurer of the Latin Club and\n head of the Ushers for our assembly\n programs...I...\n\n KATHERINE\n Stop kidding around.\n\n DAVE\n I'm what you call 'a cutter.' F\n Only I'm not really a cutter\n either, so I don't know what I\n am.\n\n ", "happen again. If\n you feel compelled to compete with\n the kids from the town then you\n will do it in a different arena.\n I am looking at a plan to open\n our intramural program to them.\n And as a starting point, in\n consultation with Mr. Armstrong,\n we have decided to expand the\n field of this year's Little 500\n to include a team from the town.\n A loud protest is heard from everybody.\n\n ROD -\n But, sir, they're not", "W LEAVING BLOOMINGTON.\"\n He lights his cigarette. A highway stretches in front of him.\n\n EXT. MR. BLASE' S CAR LOT - DAY\n\n It's been retitled \"CUTTER CARS LTD.\" Mrs. Blase, quite\n pregnant now, is sweeping the leaves. Mr. Blase is getting\n on the bike ready to leave.\n\n EXT. CAMPUS - DAY 179\n\n ,The leaves are falling off here too and blowing in the", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "the Little 500.\n\n MIKE\n Christ, I thought youtd Jump at\n the chance.\n\n DAVE\n Well, I Just...\n He'looks at Cyril. Cyril knows why he doesn't want to be in\n it.\n\n DAVE\n Don't want to be seen with all\n those College Kids.\n\n MIKE\n That's the whole point.. They all\n be there we can beat those\n shitheads in front of everybody.\n\n ", " EXT. BLOOMINGTON - CLOSE UP - A CAMPUS TOWING 103\n\n\n TRUCK - DAY\n The CAMERA MOVES BACK and we SEE Mr. Blase and the Family\n sitting in the car getting towed.\n\n INT. MR. BIASE'S CAR\n\n Mr. Blase is draped over the wheel, his head down. The kids\n are crying.\n\n MR. YORK\n Will you please stop crying. The\n car didn", "\n glances over his shoulder as Dave rides away.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 17\n\n EXT. CAMPUS - DAY 15\n\n Students are everywhere and so are classroom buildings. Tall,\n new, limestone structures resembling office buildings.\n Students sit on the steps outside the buildings. They are\n lying around on the grass and walking to and from classes.\n All of them have books in hand. The wind is blowing.\n\n", "the nightgown in the drawer. Then she demonstrates.,\n pushing her hair back.\n\n NANCY\n I thought maybe, something like\n this. What do you think?\n\n MOOCHER'S P.O.V.:\n He's looking at Nancy. The new hairdo she's suggesting makes\n her look lovely.\n\n MOOCHER\n Not bad.\n\n EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF BLOOMINGTON - DAY 58-A\n\n Mr. Blase is", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", ".\n Thirty-year-old Mike. Old mean old\n man Mike. But the college kids will\n never get old...out of shape...'cause\n new ones come every year. And they'll\n keep calling us 'cutters.' To them\n it's a dirty word but to me it'll\n just be something else I never got\n a chance to be.\n He falls silent and sticks a cigarette in his mouth. His\n genuine confession has caught everybody,. including himself,\n off guard. The guys look at him with sympathy and", "ititties.\n (sticks head out;\n shouts to a couple\n of Girls) -\n Hi, there. What's your major?\n The Girls look up and kind of sneer.\n\n MOOCHER\n They sure look like they've\n got it made.\n\n MIKE\n That's because they're rich.\n\n DAVE\n Italians are all poor but they're\n happy.\n\n MIKE\n Maybe in Italy.\n Cont.\n\n", "\n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINQ\" - 8/12/78 28\n 42 Cont.\n\n VOICE ONE\n (o.s.)\n The S.A.E.'s have their whole\n team back. They're all swimmers.\n See that guy there. That's\n Rod Sommers. He rode.seventy\n laps last year in the Little 5.\n\n VOICE TWO\n (o.s.) -\n We had Mark", "Moocher and Cyril are leaving the bowling alley.\n Cyril is trying to hide the ball he's carrying. His finger\n is stuck in the hole.\n\n CYRIL\n I can't get it out.\n College rids are looking at them. It's obvious who they are.\n Mike is leading. the way but even he's feeling out of place.\n\n CYRIL\n My finger can't breathe[\n As some busty Coeds go past him:\n\n CYR", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'" ], [ ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "Dave there. And he's unhappy because\n Dave seems happy.\n\n MR. BLASE\n ,Hey, no whistling. You're a\n shag boy, so- shag. If I wanted\n whistling, I'd get a bird.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's washing cars. He stops whistling and washes eagerly.\n The-sun's reflected in the car's windows.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANG", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", ". Come here at night\n and...I cut the stone for that\n building over there-...\n\n DAVE\n Yes,. I know, Dad.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I was one fine stonecutter...\n Mike's dad...Moocher's, Cyrii's\n ...we all were. Well, Cyril's\n dad...Ah, never mind. The thing\n is. I loved it. I was young,\n slim and strong and damn proud\n of my work. • .and", "might be a father.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Yes, I might, and your mom might be-\n a mother and you might be a brother.\n That way I keep it all in the family.\n\n MOOCHER\n I didn't think people your age...\n Mr. Blase interrupts.\n\n MR. BLASE\n The'next. word might be your last,\n kid.\n Dave looks at him. Then he looks at his mother. She smiles.\n Dave looks back at his father.\n", "SE\n If you eat so much, Moocher, how\n come you're so damn small?\n\n MOOCHER\n It's my metabolism, Mr. Blase.\n I eat three times a day, but my\n metabolism eats five times a day.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, I go back to work tomorrow.\n\n DAVE\n Aren't you going to come and see us\n race, Dad?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He's", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", "SE\n Who says it's good enough for me?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n You do.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Damn right it's good enough for\n me. But...I don't need help.\n Besides...he'd ruin me if I hired\n him. A weirdo like that...\n It's clear that Mr. Blase has higher hopes for Dave which he\n has difficulty admitting even to himself.\n\n INT. DAVE'S ROOM - NIGHT 117\n", "ase looks at her surprised by her outburst. Dave X\n rides past them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 175\n Moocher, Cyril and Mike are jumping up and down.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n Nets coming around. He is gaining and making up lost ground.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - HIS PARENTS 1", "\n INT. MR. BLASE IS CAR CAR LOT\n\n\n .ANNOUNCER\n (a.s.;-on radio)\n The lead rider for the Cutter\n team is still on his bike without\n an\"exchange. His name is\n Dave Blase...\n\n MR. BLASE\n Thassa my boy!\n His car is running and he floors it while it idles and hits\n the horn again, grabbing the wheel as if he were in a race\n himself.\n\n ", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "LASE\n Don't do me any favors, eh.\n What, you afraid.\n\n DAVE\n Yeah, a little. And then, there's\n the rest of the guys.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, you took the exam. You\n did all right, eh?\n\n DAVE\n Yeah.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, that's...that's good.\n Your mom...\n (pauses, wants to\n say something,\n\n", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", ".\n\n G=\n Dave...is Moocher home?\n But Dave just rides past her in a daydream.\n\n CLOSEUP - A COUPLE ON A PORCH\n They're older PEOPLE. The Man is drinking a beer.\n\n WOMAN\n Tsk. Tsk. He was as normal\n as pumpkin pie and'now look x\n at him.\n The Man lets out a long beer belch.\n\n WOMAN\n His poor parents.\n\n", " MR. BLASE\n Yeah, so what. I've lived fifty\n years without ever getting a\n trophy.\n\n DAVE\n You never got trophy, Papa?\n\n MR. BLASE\n No, never, and what's more...\n Dave interrupts.\n\n DAVE\n Here, Papa. I give you. You\n are 'Numero Uno.' King Papa.\n Dave hands him the trophy. Mr. Blase is stunned. He'takes\n it. Before he", ", where's\n the trophy?\n\n DAVE\n Oh, Dad...\n He can't help himself anymore. He bursts into tears and hugs\n his father. Mr. Blase doesn't know what to do. His arms\n are out as if he doesn't know how to embrace.\n\n MR. BLASE\n What? What is this? Look ...you\n don't have to be this miserable.\n A little is all I asked for.\n\n (FINALLY EMBRACES\n", "gives up,\n and turns toward the parking lot just as we see Dave on his\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 18\n 15 Cont.\n bicycle chasing after the paper. He cuts through the cars,\n he cuts in front of them. The horns blow. The brakes\n screech. All Dave sees is the paper. He's on a mission.\n He cuts through the pedestrians crossing the street\n maneuvering", " The CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY AROUND his room. There are bicycle\n trophies everywhere. Posters of Italian racers. Posters of\n Italian movies. Magazine covers and newspaper clippings\n from Italian racing magazines. Bicycle parts: Spare\n wheels...cranks...pedals. Several bicycle jerseys hanging\n on the doorknob.. ENRICO GINSONDI sings during.this tour\n of Dave's room. Dave comes out of the shower humming along.\n A cat comes to" ], [ ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", " The CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY AROUND his room. There are bicycle\n trophies everywhere. Posters of Italian racers. Posters of\n Italian movies. Magazine covers and newspaper clippings\n from Italian racing magazines. Bicycle parts: Spare\n wheels...cranks...pedals. Several bicycle jerseys hanging\n on the doorknob.. ENRICO GINSONDI sings during.this tour\n of Dave's room. Dave comes out of the shower humming along.\n A cat comes to", "Dave there. And he's unhappy because\n Dave seems happy.\n\n MR. BLASE\n ,Hey, no whistling. You're a\n shag boy, so- shag. If I wanted\n whistling, I'd get a bird.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's washing cars. He stops whistling and washes eagerly.\n The-sun's reflected in the car's windows.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANG", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "There he is.\n Our trio heads for the bowling alley.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAFETERIA LINE 95\n Dave is standing directly behind Rod. In front of Rod are\n several hero-worshipping Guys listening to Rod.\n\n ROD\n The only way to train for\n bike racing is what we do in\n swi g : Interval training.\n\n DAVE\n The Germans... . they use interval\n training and the Italians... they\n", " CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's sitting next to his bike on the grass and looking around\n at all of them. In his hands he has his Italian Phrase Book:\n the book being his admission ticket into this world. It's\n obvious he's feeling a little out of place, but he enjoys\n looking at the campus world. A campus Police Car drives by\n and Dave quickly hides his face in the book. Waits for it\n to pass and when he looks up he is struck by something.\n\n MED. SHOT", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", "gives up,\n and turns toward the parking lot just as we see Dave on his\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 18\n 15 Cont.\n bicycle chasing after the paper. He cuts through the cars,\n he cuts in front of them. The horns blow. The brakes\n screech. All Dave sees is the paper. He's on a mission.\n He cuts through the pedestrians crossing the street\n maneuvering", "76\n They, too are shouting something, but Dave no longer hears\n -hem. The Italian music is playing through his head. It's\n irresistable and he gives himself over to it for one last\n time. He no longer hears the crowd shouting, nor anything\n else except the music, and music seems to be carrying him\n forward. His face registers the emotion of hearing it...of\n giving himself over to it...and of a kind of farewell to'it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "ON DAVE - GARAGE\n truing one of the wheels. It's in the truing stand and he's\n tightening the spokes with a spoke wrench. He spins the wheel.\n It spins fine.\n\n CUT TO:\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE x\n reassembling the rear wheel. Putting grease on the ball\n bearings.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - KITCHEN X\n taking the saddle out of pot of olive", "looks and feels that he has a right to be\n there.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AND THE GIRL\n They're riding double on Dave's bicycle. She's carrying his\n books. The book on top is Beginning French.\n\n DAVE\n French is my major. It's just my\n first year, of course. Have you\n ever seen Le Tour de France?\n\n He gives it his best French accent.\n\n GIRL\n No.\n", "A car comes toward him with its\n headlights on and as they go past him:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK 121\n He's scrubbing a hubcap. We see his face reflected in it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE TRAINING - NIGHT 122\n Once again as the approaching car lights go past him we:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK 123", "oil. He feels the\n saddle.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE\n assembling the crankshaft and putting on the cranks. He spins\n the cranks. They spin rapidly on their own.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE\n taking the. chain out of a kerosene bath.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - GARAGE\n oiling the chain.\n\n", "the wheels are out. The cranks are off and the\n crankshaft has been removed. Dave is holding the saddle in\n his hand. He's pushing down on it. It's very hard.\n\n • CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE - KITCHEN\n pouring olive oil into a large pan. The pan is on a hotplate.\n He puts the saddle into the pan and covers it. Mrs. Blase in\n the kitchen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "the\n fields, we see a few cows and horses. Above him, on the\n electrical wires, birds are perched like musical notes. He's\n riding and humming.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The CAMERA SWINGS UP PICKING UP the birds on the wires and\n Dave seems to be humming a motif created by'their pattern.\n The utility poles whiz by faster and faster.\n\n EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY\n\n Dave is facing the opposite way", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE" ], [ " DAVE\n You see, Katherine...\n\n A K THERINE\n Katherina!\n\n DAVE\n I feel terrible.\n His Italian accent is no longer in use and it makes Katherine\n ,just a tiny bit nervous.\n\n KATHERINE\n You sound real funny tonight.\n Che Cosa, Franco?\n\n DAVE\n My name is Dave Blase.\n\n KATHERINE:\n What's that supposed to mean?\n\n DAVE\n Nothing", ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", " CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's sitting next to his bike on the grass and looking around\n at all of them. In his hands he has his Italian Phrase Book:\n the book being his admission ticket into this world. It's\n obvious he's feeling a little out of place, but he enjoys\n looking at the campus world. A campus Police Car drives by\n and Dave quickly hides his face in the book. Waits for it\n to pass and when he looks up he is struck by something.\n\n MED. SHOT", "him.\n\n 1ST ITALIAN\n\n MI SCUSII\n (Excuse me!)\n He takes off. The other three follow him while Dave fumbles\n around to get back in the right gear.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - THE 1ST ITALIAN\n He does not look happy. The CAMERA MOVES BACK and we SEE\n Dave at the front again.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's getting", "like a returning hero.\n\n DAVE\n Buon giornol Buon giornol\n\n (SPOTS SOME\n\n SMALL CHILDREN)\n Hey, bambino.\n The people and the kids look at him like he's an oddball,\n but Dave does not notice. A woman is shaking a rug ahead\n of him, and she looks so Italian that he can't help but\n smile. A big blonde GIRL is coming out of the house\n dressed in a waitress outfit. She sees Dave", "\n to smile. This seems to \"psyche\" the lst Italian out. He\n gestures angrily to Dave to take his turn up front. Dave is\n thrilled at the command. He moves to the front. The\n following conversations will have to be subtitled.\n\n DAVE\n Oggi fa caldo, none vero?\n (It's hot today isn't it?)\n\n 1ST ITALIAN\n Roba da chiodi]\n (You don't say])\n\n FADE", " DAVE\n Si...T. just study too hard.\n I have big exam tomorrow.\n\n KATHERINE\n Are you going back to Italy\n in the sunmter ?\n\n DAVE\n Si,..My papa needs help.\n\n KATHERINE\n Well, I called up my parents.\n I'm getting a graduation present.\n We can go to Italy together.\n Dave suddenly seems to wake up.\n\n DAVE €¢\n Maybe I have to go", "I bought. I figured\n I might as well learn a little.\n She's holding the exact Italian Phrase Book that Dave has.\n Dave gestures that the book is no good. '\n\n DAVE\n You never learn Italian from\n book. I know that book. No\n good.\n , They head toward the Union.\n\n INT. ROD'S MERCEDES - DUSK 88\n\n Rod is with a different GIRL. They are driving through the\n campus.\n\n ROD", "ATHERINE\n Well, thanks again.\n\n DAVE\n Is nothing...niente...signorina.\n\n KATHERINE\n What're you...an exchange student\n or something?\n\n - DAVE\n Si. I am Italian. My name\n is ENRICO GIMONDI. X\n\n KATHERINE\n And mine is Katherine Maxwell.\n\n DAVE\n Ah, Katherinal\n Cont.\n\n 367\n\n \n", " tired. He smiles.\n\n DAVE\n Buon giorno. Come sta?\n The Italians look stunned. The 1ST ITALIAN is annoyed. The\n ZTH ITALIAN seems amused.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n FRONT SHOT - THE FLATS 135\n The Italians are riding hard. The effort is showing on their\n faces. Dave is behind them. He too is tired. But when the\n 1st Italian looks back to see how Dave is doing Dave manages", " \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 79\n 153 Cont.\n\n DAVE\n I have lied and cheated. I\n told this real nice girl that\n I'm Italian.\n\n PRIEST\n Why did you do that?\n\n DAVE\n I guess... well...I wanted to\n be Italian. I guess I still\n do.\n\n PRIEST\n Me too. Ah, Romal Believe me,\n son, it's", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", "a little more serious. He sees a huge pothole\n in front of him. He rides right toward it and then at the\n last second he jerks his bike aside. The 1st Italian goes\n right over the pothole. He's jarred and angry. Dave looks\n back. Smiles.\n\n DAVE\n Mi scusi!\n The 4th Italian appreciates this little reversal. The\n lst Italian is getting a brutal look in his face.\n\n OUT 137\n\n FADE", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", " The CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY AROUND his room. There are bicycle\n trophies everywhere. Posters of Italian racers. Posters of\n Italian movies. Magazine covers and newspaper clippings\n from Italian racing magazines. Bicycle parts: Spare\n wheels...cranks...pedals. Several bicycle jerseys hanging\n on the doorknob.. ENRICO GINSONDI sings during.this tour\n of Dave's room. Dave comes out of the shower humming along.\n A cat comes to", "There he is.\n Our trio heads for the bowling alley.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAFETERIA LINE 95\n Dave is standing directly behind Rod. In front of Rod are\n several hero-worshipping Guys listening to Rod.\n\n ROD\n The only way to train for\n bike racing is what we do in\n swi g : Interval training.\n\n DAVE\n The Germans... . they use interval\n training and the Italians... they\n", "76\n They, too are shouting something, but Dave no longer hears\n -hem. The Italian music is playing through his head. It's\n irresistable and he gives himself over to it for one last\n time. He no longer hears the crowd shouting, nor anything\n else except the music, and music seems to be carrying him\n forward. His face registers the emotion of hearing it...of\n giving himself over to it...and of a kind of farewell to'it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n", " don't. The Italians... they beat\n the pants off Germans.\n Dave thinks this is funny and laughs. Rod turns around and\n gives him a scornful look. Dave recognizes-him. Rod doesn't\n recognize Dave.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE BOWLING ALLEY 96\n\n Mike, Cyril and Moocher are standing behind the Blond Guy\n they followed. Cyril is goofing around with a bowling ball.\n He sticks his finger in the hole. The", "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B", "he opens the can\n and dumps the food into a deep ashtray with \"CINZANO\" written\n on the sides.\n\n DAVE\n Mangiare...mangiare...\n Be looks at the posters of the bicycle riders. He looks in\n the mirror. He takes a comb and combs his hair back in the\n \"continental\" style. Then he smiles. He picks up a book:\n \"ITALIAN PEASE BOOK\" and lies down on the bed to read it.\n\n " ], [ "\n\n ROD\n Then why don't you get lost now.\n\n CYRIL\n Oops. I feel like that cartoon\n again.\n A bunch of Rod's cronies sitting nearby-laughs. They crowd\n in around the cutters. Cyril and Moocher look at Mike for\n guidance. Mike is on the spot. It's not that he's afraid\n of a fight, it's just that he's on a foreign turf.\n\n MIIE\n Is", ",..is that him, Cyril?\n Cyril gets the cue.-\n\n CYRIL\n I...I don't think so.\n\n MOOCHER\n Let's get out of here.\n\n ROD\n Smart move, shorty.\n This is all Moocher needs. He hits Rod right in the tray\n Spilling the drinks all over him. Rod falls back knocking\n the table down. His friends jump up to his aid. Our guys\n are surrounded. The only opening is the caf", "he wishes he didn't. Moocher\n resigns himself to the inevitable. Starts wrapping a\n handkerchief around his fist. Cyril is cringing.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 51\n 98 Cont.\n\n CYRIL\n That's a nice major...Sosh.\n\n ROD\n What're you cutters doing here?\n Did you get lost.\n No.", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", "\n grabs it. Hesitates. Jumps on. Cyril collapses near Dave.\n Cyril seems quite happy.\n\n CYRIL\n We're doing better than I thought\n we would.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON MIKE\n Re's riding like a bull. He goes too hard and drifts out in\n the turns. He almost runs into pit ONE where Rod is resting\n and watching him. He gets back in the groove.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "\n\n CYRIL\n I've never seen anyone dive\n off from there.\n\n MIS\n\n BASTARDS[\n\n (CLIMBING DOWN\n\n THE ROCK)\n They've got indoor pools and\n outdoor pools on the campus\n but they got to come here.\n (Joins the guys)\n It's my goddamn quarry.\n Cyril assumes a very dramatic posture. Sings to the theme\n from Exodus.\n", "59\n He's on a bike. We don't know where he is. It's raining\n hard around him. The CAMERA PULLS BACK and we SEE that he's\n riding the \"rollers\", a stationary device on which his bike\n is placed. He's outside his house on the porch. He sees\n Cyril running through the rain towards him. Cyril is wearing\n a yellow,.. rubber rain cape and carrying a guitar.\n FADE Tffi3OUGH TO:\n\n ", "and several of his Frat Brothers are rushing out toward\n Rod's Mercedes convertible.\n\n CUT TO:\n EXT. CHI-DELI SORORITY - CLOSEUP OF TEE WINDOW 74 x\n The Girls are applauding. Katherine is not there.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is riding away on Dave's bike. Cyril looks on.\n\n EXT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 75\n\n The last light goes-out as En", "guys rushing out\n of the car toward him.\n\n CYRIL\n 0oops. If I were a cartoon,\n I'd go: HELP. And you'd see\n my tonsils wiggling in the back.\n He starts to run. Rod and his friends run after him.\n\n 567 FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 ", "\n CYRIL\n Not much longer. There won't\n be an water left the way he's\n splashing.\n\n ON THE RACE\n Mike seems to be half-drowning. He can't see where he's\n going. He's no longer swimming in a straight line. His head\n is bleeding and he's running into the edges of the quarry.\n Hitting them with his hands. His hands are bleeding too.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n ", "\n He won't tell me who. did it.\n\n CYRIL\n It wax dark. All I can tell\n you for sure is that they all\n wore Brut aftershave and smelled\n of Lavoris. X\n\n MIKE\n What were you doing there by\n yourself.\n Cyril and Dave exchange looks.\n\n CYRIL\n Just walking.\n\n MIKE\n h T at kind of car did they\n drive?\n\n CYRIL\n ", "\n CYRIL\n This hole! This quarry hole\n is mine!\n\n MIKE\n Hey, screw you, Cyril. Let's\n get out of here.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 6 6. 8 7\n\n EXT. QUARRY - DAY 1-C\n\n They are retracing their steps out of the quarry. Mike is", "\n They part. Dave rides off. Cyril looks after him.\n\n EXT. ROAD - CLOSEUP - KATHERINE - DAY 24\n\n She's driving Rod's Mercedes convertible. She seems\n nervous and is constantly looking from the road to the\n rearview mirror.\n\n ROD\n Just keep it steady.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 22\n 24 Cont.\n\n", " nervous of all. They walk past Rod's team. Rod is smiling\n and staring at Mike. Mike looks away. Cyril doesn't.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - TEE STARTER 162\n The crowd is hushed.\n\n STARTER\n Gentlemen, mount your bicycles!\n A great roar is heard.\n\n M E D. SHOT\n A pace car is leading the field around the track for one lap.\n Dignitaries from", "Moocher and Cyril are leaving the bowling alley.\n Cyril is trying to hide the ball he's carrying. His finger\n is stuck in the hole.\n\n CYRIL\n I can't get it out.\n College rids are looking at them. It's obvious who they are.\n Mike is leading. the way but even he's feeling out of place.\n\n CYRIL\n My finger can't breathe[\n As some busty Coeds go past him:\n\n CYR", "comes back to\n normal. That'd be great..\n\n MIKE\n How come you're so stupid, Cyril.\n\n CYRIL\n I don't know. I think I have\n a dumb heredity. What's your\n excuse, Mike?\n Mike hits him hard on the arm. Cyril winces. Mike stands up.\n He makes sure they're all watching and dives in. The guys\n talk as they follow his progress.\n\n DAVE\n You hear from your folks", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", " don't. The Italians... they beat\n the pants off Germans.\n Dave thinks this is funny and laughs. Rod turns around and\n gives him a scornful look. Dave recognizes-him. Rod doesn't\n recognize Dave.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. THE BOWLING ALLEY 96\n\n Mike, Cyril and Moocher are standing behind the Blond Guy\n they followed. Cyril is goofing around with a bowling ball.\n He sticks his finger in the hole. The", ".)\n Yeah, so what?\n Cyril laughs and then howls as he's hit.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" ; 6/16/78 8\n\n OUT 5 X\n\n EXT. CAMPUS - DAY 6\n\n Huge modern structures are looming in the distance in stark\n contrast to the town we just passed through. Mike's car-is\n speed", "mon, Mike. We're on\n their turf.\n Dave is looking back at the Girl. The two Guys are\n challenging Mike, motioning to him to come back. The two\n Girls are trying to talk them out of it. Mike-is gunning\n the car.\n\n MIKE\n They think they own the place.\n\n MOOCHER\n They do.\n\n CYRIL\n Besides, you've humiliated them\n enough. In ancient Japan when\n you ran over a sam" ], [ "the Little 500.\n\n MIKE\n Christ, I thought youtd Jump at\n the chance.\n\n DAVE\n Well, I Just...\n He'looks at Cyril. Cyril knows why he doesn't want to be in\n it.\n\n DAVE\n Don't want to be seen with all\n those College Kids.\n\n MIKE\n That's the whole point.. They all\n be there we can beat those\n shitheads in front of everybody.\n\n ", "wearing a Little 500 T-shirt.\n\n ROD\n Dumbass cutters. Goddamn\n redneck retards.\n\n OUT 8\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE 9\n riding. A Neapolitan melody plays as Dave rides holding his\n trophy:. a romantic song of the south and not southern\n Indiana. The small houses could be Italian houses to\n Dave. The people sitting on porches and steps could be\n Italians. Dave waves", "back of the riders' jerseys we see: Little 500.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks after them pumping up his spare.\n\n OUT 25-\n\n 31\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\n 32\n Mr. Blase is sitting at a table. Mrs. Blase is at the stove\n putting food on a plate.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Those college kids aren't so smart.\n I sold one of", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "bicycle disappear down one. of the rolling\n hills and then reappear again on the incline.\n\n A LONGER SHOT\n Dave is now a dot on the horizon.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He shifts gears and starts to sprint. His face is agony now.\n\n CLOSEUP - A HIGHWAY SIGN\n\n \"WELCOME TO BLOOMINGTON: HOME OF INDIANA UNIVERSITY.\"\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n As Dave goes", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", "happen again. If\n you feel compelled to compete with\n the kids from the town then you\n will do it in a different arena.\n I am looking at a plan to open\n our intramural program to them.\n And as a starting point, in\n consultation with Mr. Armstrong,\n we have decided to expand the\n field of this year's Little 500\n to include a team from the town.\n A loud protest is heard from everybody.\n\n ROD -\n But, sir, they're not", "ER\n We are proud to have with us\n today the famous Team Cinzano\n from Italy. They are touring\n America and so far are undefeated.\n Later on they have been kind\n enough to agree to hold a racing\n clinic which none of you should\n miss.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the crowd of other racers and like all of them, his\n eyes are glued on the Italians.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is putting a banana and an", "clean. He looks at it. It's\n much better now but his face suggests that it's still what\n it is.\n\n OUT 157\n\n EXT.\n\n\n -BLOOMINGTON - DAY 158\n Dave is riding his Little 500 bike. He's testing the bike\n as well as himself and trying to get used to the new machine.\n He tries sprinting and in mid-spring he stops pedaling. His\n hand grasps his left leg. He's in pain", " CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's sitting next to his bike on the grass and looking around\n at all of them. In his hands he has his Italian Phrase Book:\n the book being his admission ticket into this world. It's\n obvious he's feeling a little out of place, but he enjoys\n looking at the campus world. A campus Police Car drives by\n and Dave quickly hides his face in the book. Waits for it\n to pass and when he looks up he is struck by something.\n\n MED. SHOT", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "There he is.\n Our trio heads for the bowling alley.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAFETERIA LINE 95\n Dave is standing directly behind Rod. In front of Rod are\n several hero-worshipping Guys listening to Rod.\n\n ROD\n The only way to train for\n bike racing is what we do in\n swi g : Interval training.\n\n DAVE\n The Germans... . they use interval\n training and the Italians... they\n", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", "\n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINQ\" - 8/12/78 28\n 42 Cont.\n\n VOICE ONE\n (o.s.)\n The S.A.E.'s have their whole\n team back. They're all swimmers.\n See that guy there. That's\n Rod Sommers. He rode.seventy\n laps last year in the Little 5.\n\n VOICE TWO\n (o.s.) -\n We had Mark", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions," ], [ "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B", "THE CREST OF THE HILL 139\n Dave is up front.\n Behind him we see the 2ND ITALIAN taking out his pump. Dave\n pulls off to let him take the lead but as he does the\n lst Italian pulls up behind him to block his way back. The\n 3RD ITALIAN sprints up front to block his way forward. Dave\n is trapped. The 3rd Italian puts on his brakes. Dave puts\n on his to avoid running into him. As his speed slows down\n the 2", "only he's not coasting. He's\n pumping as hard as he can.\n\n 567 CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 71\n 134 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON THE ITALIANS\n They are still in their descent. The hill is steep and they\n are going very fast. Suddenly, Dave, bent over and breathing\n hard appears in the FRAME. He tries to appear that he's not\n", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", " tired. He smiles.\n\n DAVE\n Buon giorno. Come sta?\n The Italians look stunned. The 1ST ITALIAN is annoyed. The\n ZTH ITALIAN seems amused.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n FRONT SHOT - THE FLATS 135\n The Italians are riding hard. The effort is showing on their\n faces. Dave is behind them. He too is tired. But when the\n 1st Italian looks back to see how Dave is doing Dave manages", "ER\n We are proud to have with us\n today the famous Team Cinzano\n from Italy. They are touring\n America and so far are undefeated.\n Later on they have been kind\n enough to agree to hold a racing\n clinic which none of you should\n miss.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the crowd of other racers and like all of them, his\n eyes are glued on the Italians.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is putting a banana and an", "the riders' rears meet the saddles\n of their bicycles.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the middle of the pack. He looks over his shoulder\n and waves to Mike, Cyril and Moocher on the sideline.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE ITALIANS\n They are in the front. They are looking straight ahead.\n\n ANNOUNCER\n (o.s. )\n Riders ready[ Timers ready!\n A gun is fired. The Italians", "him.\n\n 1ST ITALIAN\n\n MI SCUSII\n (Excuse me!)\n He takes off. The other three follow him while Dave fumbles\n around to get back in the right gear.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - THE 1ST ITALIAN\n He does not look happy. The CAMERA MOVES BACK and we SEE\n Dave at the front again.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's getting", ". But\n he doesn't want to kill himself doing it. He's thinking.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE HILL 136\n The Italians are switching off as they begin another ascent.\n It's Dave's turn to take the lead. As he goes up front the\n 1st Italian reaches in and pushes Dave's lever all the way\n forward. This suddenly shifts Dave into a very high gear.\n He can hardly turn the cranks. The 1st Italian smiles at", "brakes on.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is taking the front wheel off. He's peeling the tire off\n the rim ready to put on a spare. Katherine is driving toward\n him. He sees her. She sees him. As she goes past him she\n slows down a little but enough to.make Rod almost run into\n her.\n\n ROD\n What the hell you doing,\n\n KATHY I\n She speeds up and she and the bike riders go past Dave.\n On the", "a little more serious. He sees a huge pothole\n in front of him. He rides right toward it and then at the\n last second he jerks his bike aside. The 1st Italian goes\n right over the pothole. He's jarred and angry. Dave looks\n back. Smiles.\n\n DAVE\n Mi scusi!\n The 4th Italian appreciates this little reversal. The\n lst Italian is getting a brutal look in his face.\n\n OUT 137\n\n FADE", "ella robal\n (Congratulations[ Nice work[)\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His left leg is hurt but more than that his dream seems\n shattered.\n\n EXT. RACE FINISH 140\n\n The tour Italians are sprinting toward the finish line. A\n large \"FINISH\" sign flutters in the breeze. The 4th Italian\n wins and as he does he turns and fives the \"Italian finger\"\n to his three buddies. He's still angry", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", ". Dave and three riders appear over the crest. Dave\n is in the lead. As he goes over the crest, he shifts gears\n and starts to sprint. The other riders cannot match him.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON ITALIANS\n They are bent over their frames in their descent positions.\n Their knees and elbows are tucked in and they are coasting\n down the hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's in the similar position", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "them right in front of him. The Italian music is\n still playing as he catches up to them and pulls up behind\n Rod who's riding on the inside. They are going around the\n curve. Rod drifts out a bit and that's all the room that\n Dave needs. He takes the inside edge as they come around\n for the final stretch. All three of them stand up and begin\n their final sprint. It looks dead even as they're\n approaching the finish line. A man is waving the checkered\n flag. Then, with about forty yards", " The CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY AROUND his room. There are bicycle\n trophies everywhere. Posters of Italian racers. Posters of\n Italian movies. Magazine covers and newspaper clippings\n from Italian racing magazines. Bicycle parts: Spare\n wheels...cranks...pedals. Several bicycle jerseys hanging\n on the doorknob.. ENRICO GINSONDI sings during.this tour\n of Dave's room. Dave comes out of the shower humming along.\n A cat comes to", "76\n They, too are shouting something, but Dave no longer hears\n -hem. The Italian music is playing through his head. It's\n irresistable and he gives himself over to it for one last\n time. He no longer hears the crowd shouting, nor anything\n else except the music, and music seems to be carrying him\n forward. His face registers the emotion of hearing it...of\n giving himself over to it...and of a kind of farewell to'it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n", "THROUGH TO:\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 73\n\n 138\n\n ANGLE ON THE FLATS\n All five of them are continually taking turns being up front.\n They are approaching a small hill. The lst Italian points\n to the hill. Dave is too exhausted now to fake any smiles.\n The pace is as hard as it's been.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid" ], [ "the Little 500.\n\n MIKE\n Christ, I thought youtd Jump at\n the chance.\n\n DAVE\n Well, I Just...\n He'looks at Cyril. Cyril knows why he doesn't want to be in\n it.\n\n DAVE\n Don't want to be seen with all\n those College Kids.\n\n MIKE\n That's the whole point.. They all\n be there we can beat those\n shitheads in front of everybody.\n\n ", "back of the riders' jerseys we see: Little 500.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks after them pumping up his spare.\n\n OUT 25-\n\n 31\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\n 32\n Mr. Blase is sitting at a table. Mrs. Blase is at the stove\n putting food on a plate.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Those college kids aren't so smart.\n I sold one of", "wearing a Little 500 T-shirt.\n\n ROD\n Dumbass cutters. Goddamn\n redneck retards.\n\n OUT 8\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE 9\n riding. A Neapolitan melody plays as Dave rides holding his\n trophy:. a romantic song of the south and not southern\n Indiana. The small houses could be Italian houses to\n Dave. The people sitting on porches and steps could be\n Italians. Dave waves", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "ER\n We are proud to have with us\n today the famous Team Cinzano\n from Italy. They are touring\n America and so far are undefeated.\n Later on they have been kind\n enough to agree to hold a racing\n clinic which none of you should\n miss.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the crowd of other racers and like all of them, his\n eyes are glued on the Italians.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is putting a banana and an", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "bicycle disappear down one. of the rolling\n hills and then reappear again on the incline.\n\n A LONGER SHOT\n Dave is now a dot on the horizon.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He shifts gears and starts to sprint. His face is agony now.\n\n CLOSEUP - A HIGHWAY SIGN\n\n \"WELCOME TO BLOOMINGTON: HOME OF INDIANA UNIVERSITY.\"\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n As Dave goes", " ANOTHER ANGLE\n Rod and five of his Fraternity Brothers are riding their\n bicycles behind the car.\n\n ROD\n Keep your elbows bent. That's\n right. PICK IT UP KATHY!\n Thirty an hourl\n\n EXT. FURTHER UP THE ROAD - DAY\n\n Dave is riding his bicycle. A sudden explosive noise of a\n tire going flat.\n\n DAVE\n\n AHL STROONZI\n He puts the", "clean. He looks at it. It's\n much better now but his face suggests that it's still what\n it is.\n\n OUT 157\n\n EXT.\n\n\n -BLOOMINGTON - DAY 158\n Dave is riding his Little 500 bike. He's testing the bike\n as well as himself and trying to get used to the new machine.\n He tries sprinting and in mid-spring he stops pedaling. His\n hand grasps his left leg. He's in pain", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", "There he is.\n Our trio heads for the bowling alley.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAFETERIA LINE 95\n Dave is standing directly behind Rod. In front of Rod are\n several hero-worshipping Guys listening to Rod.\n\n ROD\n The only way to train for\n bike racing is what we do in\n swi g : Interval training.\n\n DAVE\n The Germans... . they use interval\n training and the Italians... they\n", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", "\" is stamped on\n the back of their T-shirts. There is something comical about\n this team. They are so uneven. Cyril is very tall. Moocher\n is very short. They are walking out of step. All the other\n teams are matched in height to accommodate the use of a bike\n w.th a set saddle position.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They seem very nervous. The roar of the crowd. The other\n teams. The foreign turf once again. Mike seems the most\n", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B" ], [ "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "wearing a Little 500 T-shirt.\n\n ROD\n Dumbass cutters. Goddamn\n redneck retards.\n\n OUT 8\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE 9\n riding. A Neapolitan melody plays as Dave rides holding his\n trophy:. a romantic song of the south and not southern\n Indiana. The small houses could be Italian houses to\n Dave. The people sitting on porches and steps could be\n Italians. Dave waves", "He just stands there.\n The lead that they had is evaporating. The other riders are\n catching up. They are coming around the curve. Moocher runs\n up to Mike, pushes him away and gets on the bike. His\n intentions are great, but his legs are short. He can't sit\n in the saddle and reach the pedals. So he stands and rides\n just as the other teams come around.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is smiling", "back of the riders' jerseys we see: Little 500.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks after them pumping up his spare.\n\n OUT 25-\n\n 31\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\n 32\n Mr. Blase is sitting at a table. Mrs. Blase is at the stove\n putting food on a plate.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Those college kids aren't so smart.\n I sold one of", "\n ANGLE ON THE LAP CHART\n It shows 5 laps to go.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE LEAD PACK\n Now all three riders are looking back over their shoulders.\n They see Dave coming on.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is getting ready to take an exchange for his final sprint.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see the black sprinter in Pit area 4 getting", ".\n\n MIKE\n They're going to lap us.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n The black riders look up astonished.. Dave rides past their\n pit.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod sees Dave go past him. The rider for his team is not far\n behind him.\n\n ROD\n C'monl C'monl You got him!\n\n 5 67", " while-a fresh rider jumps on.': Dave'is in the lead for a\n while, but the fresh riders catch up.\n\n CUT TO:'\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is sitting and resting. He's breathing hard. His fellow\n riders are slightly out of breath too.\n\n ROD\n He won't last.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n\n MIRE\n", "\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4 177\n The three black riders look at each other.. They need a new\n plan, they seem to be thinking.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod and his teammates are watching Dave's progress. They\n shake their heads. He can't possibly catch up.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "\n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINQ\" - 8/12/78 28\n 42 Cont.\n\n VOICE ONE\n (o.s.)\n The S.A.E.'s have their whole\n team back. They're all swimmers.\n See that guy there. That's\n Rod Sommers. He rode.seventy\n laps last year in the Little 5.\n\n VOICE TWO\n (o.s.) -\n We had Mark", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "announcer said so.\n He is genuinely proud.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Too bad he...\n He interrupts..\n\n MR. BLASE\n Too bad. nothing.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 171\n The lead r iders pass. Lagging behind them Moocher comes\n in for an exchange. Cyril takes the bike. His legs are\n so long his knees just about hit his chin but he takes off\n in pursuit. Moocher is exhausted.", "- 8/12 8 87\n\n IND. SHOT - THE RACE 164\n Dave is moving up'to-catch the leaders. Behind him is a\n black rider. They catch the leaders and there are now five\n teams'up front. As-they come around to the pit areas, we\n see three riders from the fraternities swinging off for an\n exchange. As they enter their pit area, they slam on their\n brakes, and while the-bike is still moving, they jump off\n", "\" is stamped on\n the back of their T-shirts. There is something comical about\n this team. They are so uneven. Cyril is very tall. Moocher\n is very short. They are walking out of step. All the other\n teams are matched in height to accommodate the use of a bike\n w.th a set saddle position.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They seem very nervous. The roar of the crowd. The other\n teams. The foreign turf once again. Mike seems the most\n", "the Little 500.\n\n MIKE\n Christ, I thought youtd Jump at\n the chance.\n\n DAVE\n Well, I Just...\n He'looks at Cyril. Cyril knows why he doesn't want to be in\n it.\n\n DAVE\n Don't want to be seen with all\n those College Kids.\n\n MIKE\n That's the whole point.. They all\n be there we can beat those\n shitheads in front of everybody.\n\n ", "inside and moves up some more.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n Cyril, Moocher and Mike are beating on each other in their\n excitement.\n\n CYRIL\n He's moving up. Look at that\n\n DAGO GOT\n\n CUT TO:\n ANGLE ON LAP CEiART\n A big board with flip numbers shows: 200 laps to go. A man\n is reaching out to change the", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", "waving a flag signaling the\n last lap. Rod and the black guy go past him. Dave is behind\n them and gaining.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 5 67\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 95\n 177 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON THE BACKSTRETCH\n Rod and the black rider are riding abreast now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He sees", "like they're going to save\n Rod for the sprint. You get on\n when he does. Stay behind him\n until the last turn...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA 34\n Moocher is exhausted. Dave is depressed as hell. He\"s got\n adhesive tape in his hand but he doesn't feel like putting\n it on his. Leg. The-race seems lost. Cyril-comes in for an\n exchange.- Mike is the only one who can take the bike. He" ], [ ".\n Thirty-year-old Mike. Old mean old\n man Mike. But the college kids will\n never get old...out of shape...'cause\n new ones come every year. And they'll\n keep calling us 'cutters.' To them\n it's a dirty word but to me it'll\n just be something else I never got\n a chance to be.\n He falls silent and sticks a cigarette in his mouth. His\n genuine confession has caught everybody,. including himself,\n off guard. The guys look at him with sympathy and", "you're just a cutter\n .again like the rest of us.\n\n DAVE\n I guess.\n\n EXT. MOOCHER'S HOUSE - DAY 141\n\n Mike's car stops and lets Moocher out. Car.drives o.a.\n Moocher is walking toward his house. He stops.\n\n MOOCHER'S P.O.Y.\n He sees a.big \"SOLD\" sign tacked over the FOR SALE sign.\n\n INT.", "seem to be bothered by it. One of them looks.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n Well, look who's back.\n He has to shout to be heard. The others look.\n\n ANGLE ON MR. BLASE\n He's glad to be back but he's also trying to keep a little\n distance as if proud of how far he had come in life. He\n smiles and waves grandly, his suit and tie sticking out in\n this surrounding.\n 567 Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n", ". It's just a name. I made\n it all up. I was born in Bloomington.\n I went to Bloomington High. I was\n the treasurer of the Latin Club and\n head of the Ushers for our assembly\n programs...I...\n\n KATHERINE\n Stop kidding around.\n\n DAVE\n I'm what you call 'a cutter.' F\n Only I'm not really a cutter\n either, so I don't know what I\n am.\n\n ", "s lunch hour at the shop and the old instincts\n are coming back.\n\n YOUNG CUTTER\n Who's he?\n Mr. Blase looks back over his shoulder hurt by this remark.\n\n I . SHOP DAY\n The NOISE is now DEAFENING. Dust is everywhere and slowly\n through the dust we see men working, pausing only long enough\n to smile and wave at Mr. Blase. Mr. Blase is finishing off\n his sandwich just like the Cutter next to him who walks to\n", "\n place and yet out of place. A Man is shouting at him. He\n can't hear. He finally hears him.\n\n CURTER ONE\n\n YOUR SON. HOW'S YOUR SON\n\n DOING.\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n FINE. JUST FINE.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n\n THAT'S MINE OVER THERE.\n A SHOT of the Cutter who didn't know Mr. Blase. Mr. Blase\n sits down in the chair", " says he took that college exam.\n\n DAVE\n Yeah, both of us did.\n\n MR. BLASE '\n So, how did...how did both of\n you do?\n\n DAVE\n Well, I think, eh, one of us\n did all right. But neither\n of us...eh...I won't go, Dad.\n The hell with them. I'm not\n ashamed of being a cutter. I\n don't want you feeling bad.\n\n MR. B", "\n\n ROD\n Then why don't you get lost now.\n\n CYRIL\n Oops. I feel like that cartoon\n again.\n A bunch of Rod's cronies sitting nearby-laughs. They crowd\n in around the cutters. Cyril and Moocher look at Mike for\n guidance. Mike is on the spot. It's not that he's afraid\n of a fight, it's just that he's on a foreign turf.\n\n MIIE\n Is", ". Blase on the back, their dusty hands leaving dusty\n imprints on his jacket.\n\n CVITER THREE\n We'll start you as an\n apprentice again.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Like hell you will. I'm j us t\n visiting. But if I wanted to\n come back I could pick up where\n I left off.\n The entrance to the shop draws him forward. A couple of the\n Cutters accompany him. He takes half of a sandwich from one\n of them. It'", ". Come here at night\n and...I cut the stone for that\n building over there-...\n\n DAVE\n Yes,. I know, Dad.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I was one fine stonecutter...\n Mike's dad...Moocher's, Cyrii's\n ...we all were. Well, Cyril's\n dad...Ah, never mind. The thing\n is. I loved it. I was young,\n slim and strong and damn proud\n of my work. • .and", " to help but Katherine is right there.\n\n KATHERINE'S P.O.V.\n She sees Rod.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The fight is going at full blast.\n\n KATHERINE\n What's going on.\n\n GIRL\n Just some cutters making trouble.,\n Dave'-is stung by this remark. He plows into the fight.\n Katherine grabs rim and tries to pull him away. She can\n not tell which side he is on.", "\n \n REVISEn - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 47\n 89 Cont.\n\n CYRIL\n I guess.\n Mike shifts the car into first and waits for an opening to\n make a U-turn.\n\n INT. ROD'S CAR - DUSK\n\n\n GIRL\n Who were they?\n\n ROD\n A bunch of cutters.\n\n GIRL\n What are cutters? X", "the CAMERA. Mike is\n handsome and well built. CYRIL is tall and skinny. MOOCHER\n is very short. DAVE, hanging back a little, is carrying a\n large trophy.\n\n DAVE\n Bravo, Mike! Bravo! Bellisimot\n\n CYRIL\n Did you really make all that up?\n They pass.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The presence of the quarry is felt much stronger now. More\n and more blocks of cut stone", "not far away. Then she turns slowly\n and leaves-bidding a farewell, in a way, to a portion of her\n life.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" -6/16/78 96\n\n X\n 177 Cont.1\n\n CLOSEUP - THE CUTTERS\n Dave and his parents are walking off. Mike and his brother\n are arm in", " \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 40\n\n X\n 58-c Cont.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n Damn it you don't look like\n one of them\n Government Safety Inspectors.\n\n CUTTER TWO\n No, a Union Organizer.\n They all laugh and get up to greet him. All except one\n younger man who continues sitting and eating. The Cutters\n slap Mr", "s that mean?\n\n DAVE\n You don't work. You don't eat.\n\n CYRIL\n That's a terrible thing to say.\n\n MED. SHOT\n The quarries are felt even more now. Walls of stone rise\n up around the guys.\n\n CYRIL\n Are you really going to shave\n your legs?\n\n DAVE\n Certo. All the Italians do it.\n\n MIKE\n That's some country.", " on Mr. Blase's body.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n THE MACHINERY\n Cranes are moving overhead. Huge blades are spinning huge\n columns of limestone, chisels indenting grooves.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n MR. BLASE\n He's borrowing a cigarette from a Cutter, lighting it. He's\n tired and out of breath. The man moves on to do his work.\n Mr, Blase smokes his cigarette looking on...in,love with this", "out. He looks\n at the shop. The NOISE of MACHINERY is HEARD from the huge\n building. The NOISE gets LOUDER as Mr. Blase walks toward\n it, trying to avoid stepping into the Limestone dust with his\n polished shoes, but the dust is everywhere.\n\n EXT. SHOP ENTRANCE 58-C\n\n Several CUTTERS are having lunch. They are eating heartily\n right outside the shop. The NOISE is EVEN LOUDER but they\n don't", "to come in the water. Mike\n runs up his rock and dives in. Rod dives off his side.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The two of them are swimming toward each other.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE CUTTERS\n\n CYRIL\n They're going to race.\n\n DAVE\n What the hell's he doing.\n That guy...\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "lands on\n the street. Mike sees it and speeds up. A Girl is running\n to get it but Mike gets there first and runs over it. Dave\n gets a quick look at the Girl as she stops\"suddenly to keep\n from getting hit. The two college Guys run out and give'\n Mike the finger. He sees them in the rearview mirror.\n\n MIKE\n Hey, those bastards are giving\n us the finger.\n He slams on the brakes.\n\n MOOCHER\n Hey, c'" ], [ "Moocher and Cyril are leaving the bowling alley.\n Cyril is trying to hide the ball he's carrying. His finger\n is stuck in the hole.\n\n CYRIL\n I can't get it out.\n College rids are looking at them. It's obvious who they are.\n Mike is leading. the way but even he's feeling out of place.\n\n CYRIL\n My finger can't breathe[\n As some busty Coeds go past him:\n\n CYR", ".\n\n G=\n Dave...is Moocher home?\n But Dave just rides past her in a daydream.\n\n CLOSEUP - A COUPLE ON A PORCH\n They're older PEOPLE. The Man is drinking a beer.\n\n WOMAN\n Tsk. Tsk. He was as normal\n as pumpkin pie and'now look x\n at him.\n The Man lets out a long beer belch.\n\n WOMAN\n His poor parents.\n\n", "\n MOOCHER\n He wanted to know if the house\n was sold. They could use the\n money.\n\n DAVE\n You can come and live with me\n when it's sold. In Italy\n everybody lives together.\n All three of them are getting concerned about Mike.\n\n MOOCHER\n Ever since you won that Italian X\n bike you've been acting weird. You\n really think you are Italian.\n\n CYRIL\n I .wouldn't mind thinking I", "a sudden explosive movement, he punches the clock with\n his fist, knocking it off the wall.\n\n MOOCHER\n How's that?\n He tosses the sponge aside and walks out shaking the pain\n from his fist.\n\n E=. CAR WASH\n Moocher walks out. Mike and the guys are gone. He puts his\n bands in his pockets and starts home. Mike's car suddenly\n appears.\n Everyone is cheering. Mike's blowing his horn.\n Moocher gets", ", Moocher?\n 567 Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 5\n 1-B Coat.\n\n MOOCHER ..\n Yeah, my Dad called. He says\n there's a lot more jobs in'Chicago.\n He hasn't got anything yet.\n Mike has reached the icebox. He opens the door. Goes in.\n Shuts the door.\n", "the nightgown in the drawer. Then she demonstrates.,\n pushing her hair back.\n\n NANCY\n I thought maybe, something like\n this. What do you think?\n\n MOOCHER'S P.O.V.:\n He's looking at Nancy. The new hairdo she's suggesting makes\n her look lovely.\n\n MOOCHER\n Not bad.\n\n EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF BLOOMINGTON - DAY 58-A\n\n Mr. Blase is", "you're just a cutter\n .again like the rest of us.\n\n DAVE\n I guess.\n\n EXT. MOOCHER'S HOUSE - DAY 141\n\n Mike's car stops and lets Moocher out. Car.drives o.a.\n Moocher is walking toward his house. He stops.\n\n MOOCHER'S P.O.Y.\n He sees a.big \"SOLD\" sign tacked over the FOR SALE sign.\n\n INT.", "lands on\n the street. Mike sees it and speeds up. A Girl is running\n to get it but Mike gets there first and runs over it. Dave\n gets a quick look at the Girl as she stops\"suddenly to keep\n from getting hit. The two college Guys run out and give'\n Mike the finger. He sees them in the rearview mirror.\n\n MIKE\n Hey, those bastards are giving\n us the finger.\n He slams on the brakes.\n\n MOOCHER\n Hey, c'", "\n surrounded by Disneyland. I\n thought we were going to.stick\n together.\n\n MOOCHER\n I need a job, Mike.\n He frees himself from Cyril and goes.\n\n CYRIL\n Don't go, Mooch! They only let\n you out on weekends and national\n holidays!\n\n MIFF\n Don't forget to write!\n INT. CAMPUS STREET CAR WASH - DAY 39 x\n A bunch of College Kids", "\n MIKE\n - '(interrupts) ,\n I wasn't talking to you.\n\n MOOCHER\n I don't give a damn. You're not,\n a quarterback here, you know.\n\n MIKE\n At least I was once( Which is one\n helluva lot. better' than being a\n midget all my life.\n Moocher is stung by the remark. But he controls his normal\n reaction with difficulty.\n\n DAVE\n Hey, c", "going, Mooch?\n\n CYRIL\n He's getting a job! Yes, a\n job!\n\n EXT. CAMPUS CAR WASH - DAY 38\n\n Moocher is standing outside Mike's car. The guys are inside.\n Cyril is-holding onto Moocher's arm. Moocher is trying to\n free himself.\n\n MIRE\n 'Campus' Car Wash. It's\n campus everything. I feel like\n some reservation Indian", "IL\n Can I sleep over too.\n\n MOOCHER\n THE UNIVERSITY bought my dad's X\n house.\n\n MR. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n There goes the neighborhood.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 148\n\n Mike is sitting in the car looking at Dave's room. He's got\n an unlit cigarette in his mouth and seems to be debating\n whether he should join the rest", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", "\n MIKE\n My brother says he saw you and\n Nancy. Moocher.\n\n MOOCHER\n When?\n\n MIKE\n Last Friday?\n\n MOOCHER\n Wasn't me. I'm not seeing her\n anymore.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n They are now standing above a huge pool of water with sheer\n cliffs on three sides. Abandoned derricks loom in the\n distance. Dave is now humming softly a Neapolitan song", ".\n He's feeling great. It's a nice day. He's been to church.\n He hears the music of Italy in his soul. As he's crossing\n an intersection, he sees Moocher and Nancy going down the\n street. He pauses...as if wondering whether to join them.\n Decides not to. He rides away in his direction. The CAMERA\n STAYS ON Moocher and the girl. They are stopping in front\n of her house.\n\n OUT\n\n 9\n\n", "an old icebox.\n Mike is staring at it. The mood is one of total relaxation.\n\n MIRE\n Aren't you glad we got fired from\n The A and P. Right now we'd be X\n working.\n\n MOOCHER\n We didn't get fired. You got-\n fired. We quit.\n\n MIKE\n One for all and all for one.\n\n MOOCHER\n There aren't many places, you\n know, that'll hire all four", "this weather. gets thinking. Maybe he's\n thinking about his youth. His eyes fall on his potbelly.\n He sucks it in. But he can't hold it in. Lets it out and\n goes back to thinking.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - NANCY'S CARAVAN.- DAY 58 X\n\n It's still raining. Moocher is helping the Waitress, NANCY,\n carry in a huge chest of drawers. Moocher is carrying it\n solo. Nancy.", "arm. Moocher and Nancy are holding hands and\n going their way.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's-holding the four trophies they won. He is trying to\n swagger but he doesn't know where to go. The guys seem to\n be going-in separate directions and he doesn't know whom to\n follow. The CAMERA PULLS BACK FROM him. Confetti is falling\n everywhere. Wind is blowing it around the stadium.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n", "SE\n If you eat so much, Moocher, how\n come you're so damn small?\n\n MOOCHER\n It's my metabolism, Mr. Blase.\n I eat three times a day, but my\n metabolism eats five times a day.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, I go back to work tomorrow.\n\n DAVE\n Aren't you going to come and see us\n race, Dad?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He's", "78 27\n 39 Cont.\n Moocher takes the sponge and the rag and heads for the\n car wash. He goes past the punch clock. -\n\n OWNER\n Don't forget to punch the\n clock, shorty.\n\n NEW ANGLE\n We see Moocher from the back. He stops suddenly when he\n hears the word \"shorty.\" He turns around slowly. He looks\n at the Owner. He wraps the rag around his fist. And then,\n with" ], [ "elled to continue.\n\n MIKE\n Driving you to bike races. What the\n hell am I your private chauffeur or\n something. I don't ever remember-\n you paying.for the gas. Sure, it's\n fun to win. Get all the glory for\n yourself but when it comes time to\n do something for the rest of us...\n Shit. I think you're just afraid\n of those college guys.\n And you're not?\n\n MIKE\n The only thing I'", "lands on\n the street. Mike sees it and speeds up. A Girl is running\n to get it but Mike gets there first and runs over it. Dave\n gets a quick look at the Girl as she stops\"suddenly to keep\n from getting hit. The two college Guys run out and give'\n Mike the finger. He sees them in the rearview mirror.\n\n MIKE\n Hey, those bastards are giving\n us the finger.\n He slams on the brakes.\n\n MOOCHER\n Hey, c'", ".\n Thirty-year-old Mike. Old mean old\n man Mike. But the college kids will\n never get old...out of shape...'cause\n new ones come every year. And they'll\n keep calling us 'cutters.' To them\n it's a dirty word but to me it'll\n just be something else I never got\n a chance to be.\n He falls silent and sticks a cigarette in his mouth. His\n genuine confession has caught everybody,. including himself,\n off guard. The guys look at him with sympathy and", " Mike stands up. He's ready to walk away. He pauses\n suddenly... On the other side of the quarry he sees Rod\n and his group. Dave sees Katherine and without making it\n obvious to the others leans back behind a rock.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Mike is looking at Rod. Rod sees him and just stands there.\n His friends, Katherine included, seem to be trying to get\n him to leave. But he doesn't. Mike feels the eyes of his\n gang on him. He gestures to Rod", "around. Transistor radios\n playing. Mike drives slowly.\n\n INT. MIKE'S CAR\n\n All the guys are looking out of the windows as if they were\n in a museum. Mike looks at the expensive cars along the way.\n Cyril looks at the Girls in bikinis. Moocher looks at the\n huge well-built guys. Dave just looks.\n\n CYRIL\n Going to college must do'something\n 'to girls' tits. Just look at them.\n Campussies and soror", ":\n\n ANOTHER PART OF THE CAMPUS 83.\n Mike's car is parked next to a grassy field. They're all\n watching cars going by. Cyril shakes his head. On the field\n a bunch of College Kids are gathering for a game of football.\n\n FAME THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON ME FOOTBALL GAME\n The College Kids are laughing and playing.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - MIS\n He's not looking", "He just stands there.\n The lead that they had is evaporating. The other riders are\n catching up. They are coming around the curve. Moocher runs\n up to Mike, pushes him away and gets on the bike. His\n intentions are great, but his legs are short. He can't sit\n in the saddle and reach the pedals. So he stands and rides\n just as the other teams come around.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is smiling", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", "\n MIKE\n - '(interrupts) ,\n I wasn't talking to you.\n\n MOOCHER\n I don't give a damn. You're not,\n a quarterback here, you know.\n\n MIKE\n At least I was once( Which is one\n helluva lot. better' than being a\n midget all my life.\n Moocher is stung by the remark. But he controls his normal\n reaction with difficulty.\n\n DAVE\n Hey, c", "'s funny. Me too.\n Both of them feel a little guilty. Mike pretends he doesn't\n care.\n\n MIGE\n Ah. I never pay for it anyway.\n\n EXT MR. BLASE'S CAA LOT - DAY 57\n But it's dark enough to be evening. The sky is black and\n it's raining. Mr. Blase stands in the doorway of his office.\n He's looking out. For once he's a little relaxed. Nobody\n will come in", "\n leading. -Moocher is behind him. Dave is at the end. He's\n carrying a huge trophy casually. X\n\n MIKE\n �o.s.)\n If they re going to come here\n then we'll go on•.the campus.\n\n MED. SHOT - MIKE'S CAR 1-D\n A racing bicycle is on top of the car. The guys are in the\n car and the car is moving fast through the dirt road leading\n out of the quar", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "MIKE\n I really thought I was a great\n quarterback in high school. I\n still think so. I can't even\n bring myself to light a cigarette\n 'cause I keep thinking I should-\n stay in shape. And you know what\n gets me. Living here and reading\n in the papers how some hotshot kid\n is the new star on the college team.\n Every year there'll be a new one and\n it's never going to be me. I'll\n just be Mike. Twenty-year-old Mike", "\n MIKE\n My brother says he saw you and\n Nancy. Moocher.\n\n MOOCHER\n When?\n\n MIKE\n Last Friday?\n\n MOOCHER\n Wasn't me. I'm not seeing her\n anymore.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n They are now standing above a huge pool of water with sheer\n cliffs on three sides. Abandoned derricks loom in the\n distance. Dave is now humming softly a Neapolitan song", ".\n They begin the descent.\n\n CYRIL\n I kind of miss school. You know.\n This will be the first time nobody's\n going to ask us to write a theme\n about how we spent our summer.\n\n MIKE\n Remember the Tomb of the\n Unknown Substitute Teacher.\n\n MOOCHER\n She believed us too.\n\n MIKE\n\n (TEACHER'S VOICE)\n Sex spelled backwards x-es.\n\n", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", " You leave home.\n\n CYRIL\n My dad says Jesus never went\n further than fifty miles from\n his home.\n Mike is skipping down the rocks toward the water, taking\n clothes off as he does. The rest follow.\n\n MIKE\n And look what happened to him.\n Mike jumps into the water. Moocher and Cyril follow. Dave\n looks on.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. 1-A\n The", " MIKE\n Guess what? Moocher's going.\n\n CYRIL\n Talk to him Dave!\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 26\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 37\n\n Mike's car with Dave riding his bike along as they go x\n through town.\n\n DAVE\n Where you", "\" - 8/12/78 6\n 1-B Cont.l\n\n CLOSEUP - MIKE\n His face has hardened as he looks at the figures.\n\n MIKE\n What the hell are they doing here? X\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave, Moocher and Cyril are standing on the rocks below Mike.\n Mike is still on top of the rock. High above him are the\n College Kids. Three guys and three girls. One of the guys\n is standing on the ledge" ], [ "\n What're we going to do with\n him?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n I don't know, dear. I suppose\n we could strangle him while\n he's asleep.\n\n MR. BLASE\n That's not funny, Evelyn.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Why don't you talk to him.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I'm afraid to talk to him. I'm\n afraid to look at him. I'm\n afraid if I", "\n place and yet out of place. A Man is shouting at him. He\n can't hear. He finally hears him.\n\n CURTER ONE\n\n YOUR SON. HOW'S YOUR SON\n\n DOING.\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n FINE. JUST FINE.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n\n THAT'S MINE OVER THERE.\n A SHOT of the Cutter who didn't know Mr. Blase. Mr. Blase\n sits down in the chair", "did, I'd see his\n eyes twirling like pinwheels.\n Mrs. Blase brings the fries.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n The only reason I'm giving you\n these French fries is because\n you promised to calm down.\n Don't expect to get them\n again.\n Mr. Blase is still annoyed by Dave's music.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I can't eat while that noise\n is on.\n He gets up and heads toward Dave's room.", "\n HIM)\n What're you crying for? You'd\n think you lost your wallet or\n something.\n (even strokes his\n hair a bit)\n Talk to him, Evelyn. %.\n He looks up at her and she's so touched by this show of\n affections that she too is crying.\n\n MR. BLASE\n And. what're you doing?\n Mrs. Blase shakes her head, but she shakes it in a certain\n way that makes Mr. Blase", "He hits\n it. He misses.\n\n MR. BLASE\n It's that cologne he wears.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Neapolitan Sunset, it's called.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Well, it smells like fruit\n punch to me and it attracts\n flies.\n Mrs. Blase comes over and pours some hot water into his cup.\n She takes a package of Sanka from her apron pocket and puts\n it in the saucer.\n\n ", "Dave there. And he's unhappy because\n Dave seems happy.\n\n MR. BLASE\n ,Hey, no whistling. You're a\n shag boy, so- shag. If I wanted\n whistling, I'd get a bird.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's washing cars. He stops whistling and washes eagerly.\n The-sun's reflected in the car's windows.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n ANG", "stays behind wringing her hands.\n Mr. Blase reappears looking quite stunned. He's holding the\n trophy in one hand along his side.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n What's the matter?\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n HE'S SHAVINGL\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Well, so what?\n\n MR. BLASE\n His legs, Evelyn. He's shaving X\n his legs. I saw him. His legs.\n\n ", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "SE\n Who says it's good enough for me?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n You do.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Damn right it's good enough for\n me. But...I don't need help.\n Besides...he'd ruin me if I hired\n him. A weirdo like that...\n It's clear that Mr. Blase has higher hopes for Dave which he\n has difficulty admitting even to himself.\n\n INT. DAVE'S ROOM - NIGHT 117\n", "a little troubled. He looks at her\n again.\n\n CLOSEUP - MRS. BLASE\n Through her tea's there's a little trace of a smile appearing.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n INT. DAVE'S ROOM - NIGHT 143\n\n He's taking down the last Italian poster and crumpling it up.\n The cat meows.\n\n DAVE\n You; hungry, Jake, is that it?\n\n 567\n Cont", "SE\n Let him look at least. Let him\n come home tired from looking.\n He's never tired.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He's young.\n\n MR. BLASE\n When I was young I was tired.\n I had my own place at seventeen.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He says Italian families stay\n together,\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n BUT WE ARE NOT ITALIANI\n\n MRS. BLASE\n I know. It'", "A car comes toward him with its\n headlights on and as they go past him:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK 121\n He's scrubbing a hubcap. We see his face reflected in it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE TRAINING - NIGHT 122\n Once again as the approaching car lights go past him we:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK 123", "Cont.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n Dave's never thumbed anything at\n anybody.\n\n MR. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n That's because he hasn't been to\n collegeI Besides he's probably\n too stupid to get in.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n (o.s .)\n Don't say that. He'll hear you.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I don't care. It's my house", "\n Suddenly the world starts to spin for him. He clutches his\n chest. He's ready to fall backwards, but with the last gasp\n of willpower, he gets himself to collapse forward on top of\n the hood.\n\n INT. MR'. BLASE' S BEDROOM - DAY 130\n\n A DOCTOR is listening to his heart with a stethoscope.\n Mr. Blase is in a coma of sorts. He's muttering something.\n It sounds very much like \"Refund...", "as if\n wondering whether to pick up his wife but then he speeds\n up again.\n\n EXT. LIT=ZE 500 STADIUM 170-A\n\n Mr. Blase is entering the stadium through a turnstile.\n Mrs. Blase is standing not far away looking at-him. He\n doesn't see her right away. As he turns: They look at\n each other. He is surprised to see her there.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Ev...He sure tried. Even the\n ", "What the hell do you\n mean at my age.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He says you have a bad heart.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Yeah, but it's got nothing to do\n with my age. It's our son that's\n ruining my heart, Evelyn. What's\n he going to do? He wanted a year\n with those bums so I gave him a year.\n\n CONT\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n ", "s just that I come\n from a big family myself. . .and\n it really was kind of nice...\n (smiles, half\n\n EMBARRASSED)\n He thinks we should have another\n kid.\n\n MR. BLASE\n What?t\n Dave enters carrying his trophy.\n\n DAVE\n Ah, buon giorno, Papa.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I'm your goddamned father, not\n papa.\n\n DAVE\n Bu", "ne's...\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n (INTERRUPTS)\n So now his body's fine but his\n mind is gone. He used to be a\n smart kid. I thought he was\n going to goy to college.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n I thought you didn't want him\n to go to college.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Why should he go to college?\n I didn't go to college. When I\n was nineteen I was working in the\n", "'s clear he misses basketball.\n\n EXT.�BLOOMINGTON - DAY 23\n\n Dave is riding his bike. Cyril runs.\n\n CYRIL\n Are your parents asking you\n 'what you're going to do?\n\n DAVE\n I think they're getting curious.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/1", "your.\n picture: Ah, they are saying,\n how we miss our Katherina, our\n bambina...\n Katherine is near tears. The homelife Dave's describing is\n obviously not hers. Not wanting to cry she takes out a\n cigarette and a lighter and Dave, being a continental\n gentleman, takes the lighter from her. He doesn't know what\n to make of it. He fiddles with it and then strikes and a\n huge jet of flame shoots out. Dave-is frightened. He lets\n go of the" ], [ ",..is that him, Cyril?\n Cyril gets the cue.-\n\n CYRIL\n I...I don't think so.\n\n MOOCHER\n Let's get out of here.\n\n ROD\n Smart move, shorty.\n This is all Moocher needs. He hits Rod right in the tray\n Spilling the drinks all over him. Rod falls back knocking\n the table down. His friends jump up to his aid. Our guys\n are surrounded. The only opening is the caf", "\n He won't tell me who. did it.\n\n CYRIL\n It wax dark. All I can tell\n you for sure is that they all\n wore Brut aftershave and smelled\n of Lavoris. X\n\n MIKE\n What were you doing there by\n yourself.\n Cyril and Dave exchange looks.\n\n CYRIL\n Just walking.\n\n MIKE\n h T at kind of car did they\n drive?\n\n CYRIL\n ", "\n CYRIL\n Not much longer. There won't\n be an water left the way he's\n splashing.\n\n ON THE RACE\n Mike seems to be half-drowning. He can't see where he's\n going. He's no longer swimming in a straight line. His head\n is bleeding and he's running into the edges of the quarry.\n Hitting them with his hands. His hands are bleeding too.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n ", "\n\n CYRIL\n I've never seen anyone dive\n off from there.\n\n MIS\n\n BASTARDS[\n\n (CLIMBING DOWN\n\n THE ROCK)\n They've got indoor pools and\n outdoor pools on the campus\n but they got to come here.\n (Joins the guys)\n It's my goddamn quarry.\n Cyril assumes a very dramatic posture. Sings to the theme\n from Exodus.\n", "59\n He's on a bike. We don't know where he is. It's raining\n hard around him. The CAMERA PULLS BACK and we SEE that he's\n riding the \"rollers\", a stationary device on which his bike\n is placed. He's outside his house on the porch. He sees\n Cyril running through the rain towards him. Cyril is wearing\n a yellow,.. rubber rain cape and carrying a guitar.\n FADE Tffi3OUGH TO:\n\n ", "\n\n ROD\n Then why don't you get lost now.\n\n CYRIL\n Oops. I feel like that cartoon\n again.\n A bunch of Rod's cronies sitting nearby-laughs. They crowd\n in around the cutters. Cyril and Moocher look at Mike for\n guidance. Mike is on the spot. It's not that he's afraid\n of a fight, it's just that he's on a foreign turf.\n\n MIIE\n Is", "he wishes he didn't. Moocher\n resigns himself to the inevitable. Starts wrapping a\n handkerchief around his fist. Cyril is cringing.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 51\n 98 Cont.\n\n CYRIL\n That's a nice major...Sosh.\n\n ROD\n What're you cutters doing here?\n Did you get lost.\n No.", ".)\n Yeah, so what?\n Cyril laughs and then howls as he's hit.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" ; 6/16/78 8\n\n OUT 5 X\n\n EXT. CAMPUS - DAY 6\n\n Huge modern structures are looming in the distance in stark\n contrast to the town we just passed through. Mike's car-is\n speed", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", "arm. Moocher and Nancy are holding hands and\n going their way.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's-holding the four trophies they won. He is trying to\n swagger but he doesn't know where to go. The guys seem to\n be going-in separate directions and he doesn't know whom to\n follow. The CAMERA PULLS BACK FROM him. Confetti is falling\n everywhere. Wind is blowing it around the stadium.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n", "comes back to\n normal. That'd be great..\n\n MIKE\n How come you're so stupid, Cyril.\n\n CYRIL\n I don't know. I think I have\n a dumb heredity. What's your\n excuse, Mike?\n Mike hits him hard on the arm. Cyril winces. Mike stands up.\n He makes sure they're all watching and dives in. The guys\n talk as they follow his progress.\n\n DAVE\n You hear from your folks", " You leave home.\n\n CYRIL\n My dad says Jesus never went\n further than fifty miles from\n his home.\n Mike is skipping down the rocks toward the water, taking\n clothes off as he does. The rest follow.\n\n MIKE\n And look what happened to him.\n Mike jumps into the water. Moocher and Cyril follow. Dave\n looks on.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. 1-A\n The", "\n CYRIL\n This hole! This quarry hole\n is mine!\n\n MIKE\n Hey, screw you, Cyril. Let's\n get out of here.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 6 6. 8 7\n\n EXT. QUARRY - DAY 1-C\n\n They are retracing their steps out of the quarry. Mike is", "announcer said so.\n He is genuinely proud.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Too bad he...\n He interrupts..\n\n MR. BLASE\n Too bad. nothing.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 171\n The lead r iders pass. Lagging behind them Moocher comes\n in for an exchange. Cyril takes the bike. His legs are\n so long his knees just about hit his chin but he takes off\n in pursuit. Moocher is exhausted.", "Moocher and Cyril are leaving the bowling alley.\n Cyril is trying to hide the ball he's carrying. His finger\n is stuck in the hole.\n\n CYRIL\n I can't get it out.\n College rids are looking at them. It's obvious who they are.\n Mike is leading. the way but even he's feeling out of place.\n\n CYRIL\n My finger can't breathe[\n As some busty Coeds go past him:\n\n CYR", "the song. Her\n girl friends hush behind her and they too look on as if\n sorry they weren't the ones being serenaded. In the back\n Suzy looks on too,\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n\n CYRIL\n Play it, Cyril!\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE 69\n\n Mrs. Blase is standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She's\n looking at Mr•. Blase. Enrico Gim", "\n grabs it. Hesitates. Jumps on. Cyril collapses near Dave.\n Cyril seems quite happy.\n\n CYRIL\n We're doing better than I thought\n we would.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON MIKE\n Re's riding like a bull. He goes too hard and drifts out in\n the turns. He almost runs into pit ONE where Rod is resting\n and watching him. He gets back in the groove.\n\n CUT TO:\n", "facing each other. Mr. Blase picks up a carrot\n stick and chomps on it. Mrs. Blase.chomps on hers.\n Mr. Blase is so unsettled by the way his wife looks that he\n almost seems to be enjoying the carrot stick.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n How about a little mus,.c?\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. CHI-DELT SORORITY - NIGHT 66\n\n Cyril is standing next to the building. He starts P", " 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9\n 7 Cont.\n\n CYRIL\n I wonder what it's like to kiss\n a coed. I wonder about it a lot.\n Ahead of Mike's car we see two Guys and two Girls playing\n Frisbee. They are standing on the lawns and throwing the\n Frisbee to each other across the street. Mike's car is\n moving slowly forward when an ill-thrown Frisbee", "guys rushing out\n of the car toward him.\n\n CYRIL\n 0oops. If I were a cartoon,\n I'd go: HELP. And you'd see\n my tonsils wiggling in the back.\n He starts to run. Rod and his friends run after him.\n\n 567 FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 " ], [ "\n HIM)\n What're you crying for? You'd\n think you lost your wallet or\n something.\n (even strokes his\n hair a bit)\n Talk to him, Evelyn. %.\n He looks up at her and she's so touched by this show of\n affections that she too is crying.\n\n MR. BLASE\n And. what're you doing?\n Mrs. Blase shakes her head, but she shakes it in a certain\n way that makes Mr. Blase", "brilliantly.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - A COLLEGE GUY\n He's just walking. He sees the piece of paper flying around\n and grabs it casually. Just as he's ready to read it a hand\n appears in the FRAME and snatches it away from him. It's\n Dave, riding away with the piece of paper in his hand. The\n College Guy just stands and looks after him.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE", "\n What're we going to do with\n him?\n\n MRS. BLASE\n I don't know, dear. I suppose\n we could strangle him while\n he's asleep.\n\n MR. BLASE\n That's not funny, Evelyn.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Why don't you talk to him.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I'm afraid to talk to him. I'm\n afraid to look at him. I'm\n afraid if I", " to help but Katherine is right there.\n\n KATHERINE'S P.O.V.\n She sees Rod.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n The fight is going at full blast.\n\n KATHERINE\n What's going on.\n\n GIRL\n Just some cutters making trouble.,\n Dave'-is stung by this remark. He plows into the fight.\n Katherine grabs rim and tries to pull him away. She can\n not tell which side he is on.", "s gotten into\n you.\n\n ROD\n And what I want to know is has\n he gotten into you, Bath?\n She slaps him. Rod looks around to see if anyone saw that he\n got hit.- A SHOT of Katherine's girl friend, Suzy. She saw.\n She smiles at Rod. He looks away from her.\n\n X\n She gets up. Leaves a quarter for the coffee and leaves.\n Rod looks around once again, and once again he sees Suzy\n smiling at him. He looks", "your.\n picture: Ah, they are saying,\n how we miss our Katherina, our\n bambina...\n Katherine is near tears. The homelife Dave's describing is\n obviously not hers. Not wanting to cry she takes out a\n cigarette and a lighter and Dave, being a continental\n gentleman, takes the lighter from her. He doesn't know what\n to make of it. He fiddles with it and then strikes and a\n huge jet of flame shoots out. Dave-is frightened. He lets\n go of the", ".\n\n CUT TO:\n Cont.\n\n 5 67\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\"_ 8/12/78 19\n 16 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE\n She's crossing the street just as the light changes. Dave\n crosses on the red light. Once again he's nearly hit by\n several cars. He follows Katherine up the hill leading to\n Fr", " You too.\n\n DAVE\n I'm not going anywhere.\n\n KATHERINE\n I don't know about that. X\n\n X\n She walks away.\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT 159\n\n It's dinnertime. Dave and Moocher are having meat and\n potatoes. Mr.. Blase is comtemplating halt a head of lettuce\n and some crackers. Mrs. Blase is at the stove.\n\n MR. BLA", ". He' X\n doesn't understand English anyway.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n I'm sure he'll find a job somewhere. x\n\n R M . . -BLASE\n He couldn't get a job to save'his x\n life. He's worthless, Evelyn.\n I could die of shame everytime I'\n see him, goddamn lazy freeloader..\n\n OUT 106-\n\n LOG\n\n EXT. QUARRIES - D", "What the hell do you\n mean at my age.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n He says you have a bad heart.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Yeah, but it's got nothing to do\n with my age. It's our son that's\n ruining my heart, Evelyn. What's\n he going to do? He wanted a year\n with those bums so I gave him a year.\n\n CONT\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n ", "bit.\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - CLOSEUP MR. BLASE - EVEMZING 63\n\n He has stopped in his tracks and looks on stunned.\n\n 567\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/1&/78 43\n 63 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON MRS. BLASE\n She has prettied herself up. A", "Through the revolving doors\n the Campus Police arrive'led by Mike's brother.\n\n KATHERINE\n We go now.\n Katherine takes Dave by the Arm.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAMPUS POLICE\n They are breaking up the fight. Mike's brother looks\n angrily at Mike and the guys as he pulls Rod away.\n\n ROD\n The cutters started itt\n\n CLOSEUP - MIKE'S BROTHER\n His", "\n place and yet out of place. A Man is shouting at him. He\n can't hear. He finally hears him.\n\n CURTER ONE\n\n YOUR SON. HOW'S YOUR SON\n\n DOING.\n\n MR. BLASE\n\n FINE. JUST FINE.\n\n CUTTER ONE\n\n THAT'S MINE OVER THERE.\n A SHOT of the Cutter who didn't know Mr. Blase. Mr. Blase\n sits down in the chair", " MED. SHOT - KATHERINE\n As she's walking, she transfers her books from one hand to\n the other. A piece of paper escapes her and flies away in\n the wind.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He sees the paper fly away and jumps up.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON KATHERINE\n She tries to go after the paper but the traffic keeps her from\n crossing the street. The paper's flying away. She", ".\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's staying out of sight of Katherine. He's feeling quite\n badly for having to hide.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE RACE\n Rod has reached the \"all of the quarry and is waiting. Mike\n reaches the wal?...a:rhausted and starts back again. Rod\n seems amused. He thc,3ght the race was over. He takes off\n after Mike imitating the way Mike is swimming. His friends\n laugh.\n CZ,OSE", "runs up to Moocher. She's still wearing her waitress\n uniform. She practically lifts him off the ground. Dave's\n parents rush past them. Everybody is shouting. The crowd\n is cheering. Confetti is falling.\n\n CLOSEUP - CYRIL\n He's happy but he feels left out. Everybody is hugging and\n 'getting hugged except for him.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Katherine is watching the celebration. She looks at Dave and\n then she looks at Rod", "make it\n louder. Real loud.\n\n CYRIL\n Don't you worry. I'll make\n this catgut meow.\n\n ANGLE ON THE CAT\n It gets up and leaves.\n\n EXT. BLASE HOUSE - EVENING 62\n\n Mr. Blase has pulled in and is getting out of his car. It's\n still raining, although not as hard. He runs to the house.\n Opens the door and the cat runs out startling him a", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "KATHERINE\n And Napoli...and the big family...\n Dave just nods that they were all lies.\n\n KAT IE\n Well, it was a good act. You\n certainly fooled me.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 81\n RrVISED - '\"BAMBOO\" - 9/13/78\n\n X\n 154 Cont.1\n\n DAVE\n ", "Cont.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n Dave's never thumbed anything at\n anybody.\n\n MR. BLASE\n (o.s.)\n That's because he hasn't been to\n collegeI Besides he's probably\n too stupid to get in.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n (o.s .)\n Don't say that. He'll hear you.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I don't care. It's my house" ], [ "wearing a Little 500 T-shirt.\n\n ROD\n Dumbass cutters. Goddamn\n redneck retards.\n\n OUT 8\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE 9\n riding. A Neapolitan melody plays as Dave rides holding his\n trophy:. a romantic song of the south and not southern\n Indiana. The small houses could be Italian houses to\n Dave. The people sitting on porches and steps could be\n Italians. Dave waves", "back of the riders' jerseys we see: Little 500.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks after them pumping up his spare.\n\n OUT 25-\n\n 31\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\n 32\n Mr. Blase is sitting at a table. Mrs. Blase is at the stove\n putting food on a plate.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Those college kids aren't so smart.\n I sold one of", "the Little 500.\n\n MIKE\n Christ, I thought youtd Jump at\n the chance.\n\n DAVE\n Well, I Just...\n He'looks at Cyril. Cyril knows why he doesn't want to be in\n it.\n\n DAVE\n Don't want to be seen with all\n those College Kids.\n\n MIKE\n That's the whole point.. They all\n be there we can beat those\n shitheads in front of everybody.\n\n ", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "happen again. If\n you feel compelled to compete with\n the kids from the town then you\n will do it in a different arena.\n I am looking at a plan to open\n our intramural program to them.\n And as a starting point, in\n consultation with Mr. Armstrong,\n we have decided to expand the\n field of this year's Little 500\n to include a team from the town.\n A loud protest is heard from everybody.\n\n ROD -\n But, sir, they're not", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "\n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINQ\" - 8/12/78 28\n 42 Cont.\n\n VOICE ONE\n (o.s.)\n The S.A.E.'s have their whole\n team back. They're all swimmers.\n See that guy there. That's\n Rod Sommers. He rode.seventy\n laps last year in the Little 5.\n\n VOICE TWO\n (o.s.) -\n We had Mark", "in the car.\n\n OUT 40-\n\n 41\n\n INT. STUDENT UNION - EVENING 42\n\n Jukebox is playing. Some kids are dancing. The place is\n packed. Here and there we see T-shirts with \"Little 500\"\n on them. The CAMERA PANS SLOWLY as we hear voices above the\n din.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n ", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", " ANNOUNCER\n (o.s.; on radio)\n And so after twenty-five laps,\n the perennial favorites are up\n front. Sigma Nu, Phi Kappa Psi,\n Sigma Alpha Epsilon ...and here\n comes...It's'the Cutters.\n Mr. Blase hits the car horn.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\"", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", "He just stands there.\n The lead that they had is evaporating. The other riders are\n catching up. They are coming around the curve. Moocher runs\n up to Mike, pushes him away and gets on the bike. His\n intentions are great, but his legs are short. He can't sit\n in the saddle and reach the pedals. So he stands and rides\n just as the other teams come around.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is smiling", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", "bicycle disappear down one. of the rolling\n hills and then reappear again on the incline.\n\n A LONGER SHOT\n Dave is now a dot on the horizon.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He shifts gears and starts to sprint. His face is agony now.\n\n CLOSEUP - A HIGHWAY SIGN\n\n \"WELCOME TO BLOOMINGTON: HOME OF INDIANA UNIVERSITY.\"\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n As Dave goes", "announcer said so.\n He is genuinely proud.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Too bad he...\n He interrupts..\n\n MR. BLASE\n Too bad. nothing.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 171\n The lead r iders pass. Lagging behind them Moocher comes\n in for an exchange. Cyril takes the bike. His legs are\n so long his knees just about hit his chin but he takes off\n in pursuit. Moocher is exhausted.", "the riders' rears meet the saddles\n of their bicycles.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the middle of the pack. He looks over his shoulder\n and waves to Mike, Cyril and Moocher on the sideline.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE ITALIANS\n They are in the front. They are looking straight ahead.\n\n ANNOUNCER\n (o.s. )\n Riders ready[ Timers ready!\n A gun is fired. The Italians", "ER\n We are proud to have with us\n today the famous Team Cinzano\n from Italy. They are touring\n America and so far are undefeated.\n Later on they have been kind\n enough to agree to hold a racing\n clinic which none of you should\n miss.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the crowd of other racers and like all of them, his\n eyes are glued on the Italians.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n Dave is putting a banana and an", "\n ANGLE ON THE LAP CHART\n It shows 5 laps to go.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON THE LEAD PACK\n Now all three riders are looking back over their shoulders.\n They see Dave coming on.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is getting ready to take an exchange for his final sprint.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see the black sprinter in Pit area 4 getting", " nervous of all. They walk past Rod's team. Rod is smiling\n and staring at Mike. Mike looks away. Cyril doesn't.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - TEE STARTER 162\n The crowd is hushed.\n\n STARTER\n Gentlemen, mount your bicycles!\n A great roar is heard.\n\n M E D. SHOT\n A pace car is leading the field around the track for one lap.\n Dignitaries from", "clean. He looks at it. It's\n much better now but his face suggests that it's still what\n it is.\n\n OUT 157\n\n EXT.\n\n\n -BLOOMINGTON - DAY 158\n Dave is riding his Little 500 bike. He's testing the bike\n as well as himself and trying to get used to the new machine.\n He tries sprinting and in mid-spring he stops pedaling. His\n hand grasps his left leg. He's in pain" ], [ "\" is stamped on\n the back of their T-shirts. There is something comical about\n this team. They are so uneven. Cyril is very tall. Moocher\n is very short. They are walking out of step. All the other\n teams are matched in height to accommodate the use of a bike\n w.th a set saddle position.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They seem very nervous. The roar of the crowd. The other\n teams. The foreign turf once again. Mike seems the most\n", " nervous of all. They walk past Rod's team. Rod is smiling\n and staring at Mike. Mike looks away. Cyril doesn't.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - TEE STARTER 162\n The crowd is hushed.\n\n STARTER\n Gentlemen, mount your bicycles!\n A great roar is heard.\n\n M E D. SHOT\n A pace car is leading the field around the track for one lap.\n Dignitaries from", "He just stands there.\n The lead that they had is evaporating. The other riders are\n catching up. They are coming around the curve. Moocher runs\n up to Mike, pushes him away and gets on the bike. His\n intentions are great, but his legs are short. He can't sit\n in the saddle and reach the pedals. So he stands and rides\n just as the other teams come around.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 1\n Rod is smiling", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", ". Mike, Cyril and Moocher look at him.\n\n DAVE\n Can't I even add some toe-clips?\n\n MIKE\n No, it's official issue. They\n said you can't add or change a\n thing.\n\n DAVE\n It's a piece of junkl\n\n CYRIL\n But it's got a nice personality.\n And it's had its rabies shots\n already.\n\n MOOCHER\n I don'", "elled to continue.\n\n MIKE\n Driving you to bike races. What the\n hell am I your private chauffeur or\n something. I don't ever remember-\n you paying.for the gas. Sure, it's\n fun to win. Get all the glory for\n yourself but when it comes time to\n do something for the rest of us...\n Shit. I think you're just afraid\n of those college guys.\n And you're not?\n\n MIKE\n The only thing I'", " But she will not let him give her any sympathy.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n So,\"I think you should go. You\n should come 'home singing with a\n trophy. You should do all that.\n while you can.\n\n DAVE\n I win this one for you, Mama.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Now that would be nice.\n\n EXT. ROAD - DAY 132\n\n We see Mike's car with Dave's bike on top.\n\n EX", "DAVE\n Why not?\n\n KIKE\n Well, maybe they are better.\n\n DAVE\n I've never heard you say that\n before.\n\n MIBE\n Thatts because I ,never felt it\n before.\n\n CYRIL\n My dad would be proud of you.\n Our family motto is: It can't\n be done.\n\n DAVE\n We'll see about that.\n He takes the bike from Mike and starts wheeling it away", "announcer said so.\n He is genuinely proud.\n\n MRS. BLASE\n Too bad he...\n He interrupts..\n\n MR. BLASE\n Too bad. nothing.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34 171\n The lead r iders pass. Lagging behind them Moocher comes\n in for an exchange. Cyril takes the bike. His legs are\n so long his knees just about hit his chin but he takes off\n in pursuit. Moocher is exhausted.", "the riders' rears meet the saddles\n of their bicycles.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's in the middle of the pack. He looks over his shoulder\n and waves to Mike, Cyril and Moocher on the sideline.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE ITALIANS\n They are in the front. They are looking straight ahead.\n\n ANNOUNCER\n (o.s. )\n Riders ready[ Timers ready!\n A gun is fired. The Italians", "s coming around the turn and he swings off and heads to\n his pit area.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9O\n 168 Cont.].\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n We see Moocher, Cyril and Mike. All of them are panicking.\n They seem to be pushing each other forward. Nobody wants\n to be the one to get on the bike", "like they're going to save\n Rod for the sprint. You get on\n when he does. Stay behind him\n until the last turn...\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA 34\n Moocher is exhausted. Dave is depressed as hell. He\"s got\n adhesive tape in his hand but he doesn't feel like putting\n it on his. Leg. The-race seems lost. Cyril-comes in for an\n exchange.- Mike is the only one who can take the bike. He", "\n leading. -Moocher is behind him. Dave is at the end. He's\n carrying a huge trophy casually. X\n\n MIKE\n �o.s.)\n If they re going to come here\n then we'll go on•.the campus.\n\n MED. SHOT - MIKE'S CAR 1-D\n A racing bicycle is on top of the car. The guys are in the\n car and the car is moving fast through the dirt road leading\n out of the quar", " MIKE\n Guess what? Moocher's going.\n\n CYRIL\n Talk to him Dave!\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n REVISED - \"BAMBINO\" - 8/12/78 26\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 37\n\n Mike's car with Dave riding his bike along as they go x\n through town.\n\n DAVE\n Where you", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "at them. Cyril,\n Mike and Moocher look for Dave. The crowd is cheering.\n\n EXT. ROAD - DAY 140-A\n\n All the guys are riding in silence. Dave is crushed by his\n shattered Italian dream. Mendelsohn's Italian Symphony is\n playing: the second movement. They drive past the finish\n line of the race. The big cloth sign \"FINISH\" is still up\n fluttering in the wind. A man is taking it down. Everybody\n else is gone.", "\n\n MIKE\n We're number onel\n\n MOOCHER\n No, he wants off. That's the\n signal. He's going to go one\n more lap.\n\n CYRIL\n\n OOOOPSL\n\n MIKE\n You mean one of as...\n\n CYRIL\n Once again I say oopsl\n Mike looks frightened.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n Het s. really pouring", "around. Transistor radios\n playing. Mike drives slowly.\n\n INT. MIKE'S CAR\n\n All the guys are looking out of the windows as if they were\n in a museum. Mike looks at the expensive cars along the way.\n Cyril looks at the Girls in bikinis. Moocher looks at the\n huge well-built guys. Dave just looks.\n\n CYRIL\n Going to college must do'something\n 'to girls' tits. Just look at them.\n Campussies and soror", "59\n He's on a bike. We don't know where he is. It's raining\n hard around him. The CAMERA PULLS BACK and we SEE that he's\n riding the \"rollers\", a stationary device on which his bike\n is placed. He's outside his house on the porch. He sees\n Cyril running through the rain towards him. Cyril is wearing\n a yellow,.. rubber rain cape and carrying a guitar.\n FADE Tffi3OUGH TO:\n\n " ], [ "clean. He looks at it. It's\n much better now but his face suggests that it's still what\n it is.\n\n OUT 157\n\n EXT.\n\n\n -BLOOMINGTON - DAY 158\n Dave is riding his Little 500 bike. He's testing the bike\n as well as himself and trying to get used to the new machine.\n He tries sprinting and in mid-spring he stops pedaling. His\n hand grasps his left leg. He's in pain", "She runs\n up to him and slaps him on the face and then runs back inside.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n His face changes from a guilt-ridden sinner to one of almost\n anger. Not quite. But there is a hint there of: The hell\n with her thenI\n EXT. DAVE' s HOUSE - DAY 155\n Mike is holding the Little 500 bike. It's heavy and ungainly\n in comparison to Dave's Italian racer. Dave looks at the\n bike", "wearing a Little 500 T-shirt.\n\n ROD\n Dumbass cutters. Goddamn\n redneck retards.\n\n OUT 8\n\n CUT TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE 9\n riding. A Neapolitan melody plays as Dave rides holding his\n trophy:. a romantic song of the south and not southern\n Indiana. The small houses could be Italian houses to\n Dave. The people sitting on porches and steps could be\n Italians. Dave waves", "159 Cont.1\n He looks at Dave.\n\n OUT 160\n\n INT. LITTLE 500 STADIUM 161\n\n The crowd is cheering as various teams enter to take their\n designated pit areas. A triumphal march is playing.\n\n CLOSEUP - OUR GUYS\n They are entering the stadium. Dave is pushing his bike\n along.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n We see them from the back. The word \"CUTTERS", "back of the riders' jerseys we see: Little 500.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He looks after them pumping up his spare.\n\n OUT 25-\n\n 31\n\n INT. BLASE HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\n 32\n Mr. Blase is sitting at a table. Mrs. Blase is at the stove\n putting food on a plate.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Those college kids aren't so smart.\n I sold one of", "UT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's going all out. He's in terrible pain, but he's about\n fifty yards ahead of his pursuers. As he approaches his pit\n area, he waves for help and raises a. single finger.\n\n CUT TO\n Cant.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 89\n 168 cont.\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 34", ". He drops his foot\n off the pedal and shakes his leg as-if trying to shake out\n a cramp.\n\n EXT. DOWTOWN BLOOMINGTON - DUSK 158-A\n\n Katherine is walking slowly through the deserted town. She\n turns the corner and sees Dave sitting on the curb. His\n Little 500 bike is leaning against the parking meter. She\n looks at him. Wonders whether to say anything.\n Hello.\n Dave looks. He stands up quickly. He", ". Into this panic Dave roars\n in with his bike. He slams on the brakes. Jumps off. His\n left leg gives way and he falls. Moocher and Cyril run to\n help him up. Mike is left holding the bike.\n\n DAVE\n Go, Mike!\n Mike is frozen.\n\n MOOCHER\n We've got a lead, dammit. Get\n going.\n But the crowd, the other riders staring at him, the pressure\n of the moment is too much for Mike.", "waving a flag signaling the\n last lap. Rod and the black guy go past him. Dave is behind\n them and gaining.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 5 67\n Cont.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 95\n 177 Cont.\n\n ANGLE ON THE BACKSTRETCH\n Rod and the black rider are riding abreast now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He sees", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", "it on now.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON REVIEWING STAND\n The president of the university is looking through\n binoculars.\n\n PRESIDENT\n Well, I had no idea.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON PIT AREA NUMBER 4\n\n BLACK RIDER\n That's the fastest white boy\n I've ever seen.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He'", "the Little 500.\n\n MIKE\n Christ, I thought youtd Jump at\n the chance.\n\n DAVE\n Well, I Just...\n He'looks at Cyril. Cyril knows why he doesn't want to be in\n it.\n\n DAVE\n Don't want to be seen with all\n those College Kids.\n\n MIKE\n That's the whole point.. They all\n be there we can beat those\n shitheads in front of everybody.\n\n ", "Trooper.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's still going hard only now there's no truck in front of\n him. He looks back over his shoulder and sees the truck and\n the State Trooper at the side of the road. Dave continues.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n Sweat is dripping down his chin. Pain is beginning to distort\n his face. But his legs move in the same rhythmical motion.\n\n A LONG SHOT\n We see Dave and his", "\n He's waxing a car. He sees Mike, Cyril and Moocher driving\n past in theirs, waving at him. He waves back. We FOLLOW the\n car as it disappears and then:\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AT WORK\n He's hc3ing down a car. A group of Fraternity Guys go past\n the lot on their bikes. Rod's at the head. They're all\n wearing Little 500'T-shirts", "s coming around the turn and he swings off and heads to\n his pit area.\n Cont.\n\n 567\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n 9O\n 168 Cont.].\n\n DAVE'S P.O.V. - PIT AREA NUMBER 34\n We see Moocher, Cyril and Mike. All of them are panicking.\n They seem to be pushing each other forward. Nobody wants\n to be the one to get on the bike", "86\n 162 Cont.\n\n CLOSEUP - .THE RACE\n The riders begin their mad scramble for positions. The entire\n width of the track is taken up by them. Rod is in first\n place. Dave is dead last but trying to move up.\n\n CLOSEUP..- DAVE\n He's riding and looking for openings. Whenever. a little\n space offers itself, he shoots through it and moves up. As\n everyone goes wide on the first turn, he takes it on the\n ", "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", "34\n\n 173\n Dave is waving at Mike to come in. Mike is coming in too\n fast but manages to break. He is totally spent as he gets\n off the bike. Dave gets on the bike. Moocher runs up and\n holds Dave in place. Cyril starts putting the adhesive tape\n around his feet, taping them to the pedal.\n\n ,MIKE\n What's going on.\n\n CYRIL\n It's like Charlton Heston in.El Cid", "12t78 64\n\n X\n 119-A Cont.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Exhausted?\n\n DAVE\n Yes.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Good. You might as well get used\n to it. From now on it's more of the\n same. Let's go home.\n\n DAVE\n I have to train.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - NIGHT 120\n\n Dave is riding his bike." ], [ "\n DAVE\n Not Oh, mon Dieu. But the\n French riders... they are the\n bestl Pouladoirl Anquetill\n\n Not only his accent, but his gestures are becoming French.\n Riding toward him on his bike is Mr. Blase. He sees Dave\n and waves.\n\n MR. BLASE\n Hello there, big shot.\n\n DAVE\n Bon jour, Papa.\n They pass.\n Mr. Blase turns and looks back. His face registers mixed\n emotions,", " DAVE\n You see, Katherine...\n\n A K THERINE\n Katherina!\n\n DAVE\n I feel terrible.\n His Italian accent is no longer in use and it makes Katherine\n ,just a tiny bit nervous.\n\n KATHERINE\n You sound real funny tonight.\n Che Cosa, Franco?\n\n DAVE\n My name is Dave Blase.\n\n KATHERINE:\n What's that supposed to mean?\n\n DAVE\n Nothing", "THROUGH TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE \"PULLING\"\n He's up front breaking wind for the others. He's working\n hard and he's tired. The Italians behind him are likewise.\n Dave swings off to let another rider pull in front. As he\n does Dave once again smiles. He doesn't do this to fool\n them. He's just thrilled to be in their company.\n\n DAVE\n 'Cho tempo Para piovera?\n (Do you think it", ". Dave looks after them.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n EXT. BLASE CAR LOT - DAY 124\n\n It's raining. Mr. Blase is standing in the doorway of his\n office looking out. Dave is riding the \"rollers\" and eating\n his lunch. There's nowhere to hide from the rain so he's\n getting wet. He looks tired. He's thinking of the Italians.\n As he turns his legs we see: THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIANS\n\n", "a little more serious. He sees a huge pothole\n in front of him. He rides right toward it and then at the\n last second he jerks his bike aside. The 1st Italian goes\n right over the pothole. He's jarred and angry. Dave looks\n back. Smiles.\n\n DAVE\n Mi scusi!\n The 4th Italian appreciates this little reversal. The\n lst Italian is getting a brutal look in his face.\n\n OUT 137\n\n FADE", "76\n They, too are shouting something, but Dave no longer hears\n -hem. The Italian music is playing through his head. It's\n irresistable and he gives himself over to it for one last\n time. He no longer hears the crowd shouting, nor anything\n else except the music, and music seems to be carrying him\n forward. His face registers the emotion of hearing it...of\n giving himself over to it...and of a kind of farewell to'it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n 567\n", "Dave looks at the\n marquee: FELLINI'S AMARCORD. He looks away and then looks\n back at it.\n\n EXT. BLOOMINGTON - DAY 22\n\n Some kids are playing basketball outside a garage. As Cyril\n and Dave are ready to go past them Cyril Jumps into the game.\n He steals the ball. He dribbles, fades away and shoots a long\n jump shot. It goes in. He rejoins Dave but he looks back at\n the game. It", "like a returning hero.\n\n DAVE\n Buon giornol Buon giornol\n\n (SPOTS SOME\n\n SMALL CHILDREN)\n Hey, bambino.\n The people and the kids look at him like he's an oddball,\n but Dave does not notice. A woman is shaking a rug ahead\n of him, and she looks so Italian that he can't help but\n smile. A big blonde GIRL is coming out of the house\n dressed in a waitress outfit. She sees Dave", "looks and feels that he has a right to be\n there.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE AND THE GIRL\n They're riding double on Dave's bicycle. She's carrying his\n books. The book on top is Beginning French.\n\n DAVE\n French is my major. It's just my\n first year, of course. Have you\n ever seen Le Tour de France?\n\n He gives it his best French accent.\n\n GIRL\n No.\n", "I bought. I figured\n I might as well learn a little.\n She's holding the exact Italian Phrase Book that Dave has.\n Dave gestures that the book is no good. '\n\n DAVE\n You never learn Italian from\n book. I know that book. No\n good.\n , They head toward the Union.\n\n INT. ROD'S MERCEDES - DUSK 88\n\n Rod is with a different GIRL. They are driving through the\n campus.\n\n ROD", " The CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY AROUND his room. There are bicycle\n trophies everywhere. Posters of Italian racers. Posters of\n Italian movies. Magazine covers and newspaper clippings\n from Italian racing magazines. Bicycle parts: Spare\n wheels...cranks...pedals. Several bicycle jerseys hanging\n on the doorknob.. ENRICO GINSONDI sings during.this tour\n of Dave's room. Dave comes out of the shower humming along.\n A cat comes to", "a little troubled. He looks at her\n again.\n\n CLOSEUP - MRS. BLASE\n Through her tea's there's a little trace of a smile appearing.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n INT. DAVE'S ROOM - NIGHT 143\n\n He's taking down the last Italian poster and crumpling it up.\n The cat meows.\n\n DAVE\n You; hungry, Jake, is that it?\n\n 567\n Cont", " tired. He smiles.\n\n DAVE\n Buon giorno. Come sta?\n The Italians look stunned. The 1ST ITALIAN is annoyed. The\n ZTH ITALIAN seems amused.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n FRONT SHOT - THE FLATS 135\n The Italians are riding hard. The effort is showing on their\n faces. Dave is behind them. He too is tired. But when the\n 1st Italian looks back to see how Dave is doing Dave manages", " CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's sitting next to his bike on the grass and looking around\n at all of them. In his hands he has his Italian Phrase Book:\n the book being his admission ticket into this world. It's\n obvious he's feeling a little out of place, but he enjoys\n looking at the campus world. A campus Police Car drives by\n and Dave quickly hides his face in the book. Waits for it\n to pass and when he looks up he is struck by something.\n\n MED. SHOT", "\n Dave is sitting in his room and looking around.' The room\n looks empty and lonely. 'Dave is looking at-his\n SPORTS ILLUSTRATED magazine.\n\n CLOSEUP - THE PICTURE OF THE ITALIAN TEAM\n We see four smiling riders with their arms around each other.\n There's a caption underneath the picture: TEAM CINZANO TO RACE\n\n INDIANAPOLIS.\n A car is heard pulling up into the drive. Dave looks up.\n\n INT", " DAVE\n Si...T. just study too hard.\n I have big exam tomorrow.\n\n KATHERINE\n Are you going back to Italy\n in the sunmter ?\n\n DAVE\n Si,..My papa needs help.\n\n KATHERINE\n Well, I called up my parents.\n I'm getting a graduation present.\n We can go to Italy together.\n Dave suddenly seems to wake up.\n\n DAVE €¢\n Maybe I have to go", "him.\n\n 1ST ITALIAN\n\n MI SCUSII\n (Excuse me!)\n He takes off. The other three follow him while Dave fumbles\n around to get back in the right gear.\n\n FADE THROUGH TO:\n\n CLOSEUP - THE 1ST ITALIAN\n He does not look happy. The CAMERA MOVES BACK and we SEE\n Dave at the front again.\n\n CLOSEUP - DAVE\n He's getting", "nd Italian sticks his pump into Dave's rear wheel. Dave\n sees all this. In the split second that it takes, he sees\n it all. His wheel collapses and Dave tumbles off the road\n falling down the steep grade. The Italians ride off. The\n 4th Italian slows down a little to look at Dave. He seems\n genuinely sorry about what happened but he too continues.\n He shouts after his teammates. He's a little angry.\n\n 4TH ITALIAN\n ..Bravo[ Bravo[ B", ".l\n She is in fact piling them into the trash can. Mr. Blase\n looks\"on trying to keep his composure.\n\n MR. BLASE\n I'm having a nightmare.\n\n OUT 50\n\n EXT. COUNTRY-ROAD - DAY 51\n\n Dave is combing back his hair in the Italian \"style\" while\n riding. In his other hand, he has his Italian Phrase Book.\n He's not''riding very hard. To the right of him,-in", ". Dave and three riders appear over the crest. Dave\n is in the lead. As he goes over the crest, he shifts gears\n and starts to sprint. The other riders cannot match him.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON ITALIANS\n They are bent over their frames in their descent positions.\n Their knees and elbows are tucked in and they are coasting\n down the hill.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ANGLE ON DAVE\n He's in the similar position" ] ]

[ "What does Dave win?", "What is Dave's father's profession?", "What does Dave pretend to be in order to woo a college student, Katherine?", "Who does Katherine's boyfriend mistakenly beat up?", "What does the University president invite the cutters to?", "What happens to Dave's wheel which causes him to crash?", "How does Katherine initially react when Dave tells her about his deception?", "What happens to Dave after he builds a sizable lead in the 500 race?", "In the wake of his crash, which character(s) take up his bike to continue the race?", "Where do Dave and his friends spend a lot of their time swimming at together?", "What do the Indiana University students call themselves?", "What does Dave's father, Ray, do?", "What is Dave's favorite interest, his obsession?", "Why does Dave disguise himself as an Italian exchange student?", "Why does Cyril get beat up by Rod?", "Who invited Dave into the Indiana University Little 500 race?", "Why did one of the players on the Italian's team jam up Dave's wheel with a tire pump?", "What is the name of Dave and his friends cycling team for the Little 500?", "How does the \"cutters\" team make it back in the lead during the Little 500 race?", "Why are the four friends referred to as 'cutters'?", "When did Moocher graduate from high school?", "What does Mike do for fun with his friends?", "What confuses Ray about his son?", "When was Cyril beat up?", "Why did Katherine slap Evelyn's son?", "Who invited the 'cutters' to race in the Little 500?", "Who gave Mike and his friends t-shirts for their cycling team?", "How was Dave able to continue the Little 500 race after being injured?", "When did Dave's interests switch from Italy to France?" ]

[ [ "A Masi bicycle.", "The Little 500 bicycle race" ], [ "A used cars salesman.", "stonecutter" ], [ "An Italian exchange student.", "An Italian exchange student" ], [ "Cyril.", "Ctril" ], [ "University Little 500 race.", "He invites them to the annual Indiana University Little 500 race." ], [ "The Italian cycling team jams a tire pump in his tire.", "The Italians jam a tire pump into the wheel." ], [ "She slaps him and storms off", "She tearfully slaps him and storms off." ], [ "He crashes.", "he is injured" ], [ "Mike, Moocher, and Cyril.", "moocher, cyril and mike " ], [ "At an old, abandoned water-filled quarry.", "They swim in a abadoned water filled quarry." ], [ "They refer to themselves as \"cutters.\"", "The Indiana University students call themselves Cutters." ], [ "Ray runs his own used car business.", "Ray operates a used car dealership." ], [ "Dave's favorite thing to do is competitive bicycle racing.", "Dave is obsessed with competitive bicycle racing." ], [ "Because Dave likes Katherine and he does it to win her over.", "to romance Katherine" ], [ "Rod finds out Dave has serenaded Katherine and he mistakes Cyril for Dave and beats up the wrong person.", "Rod mistakes Cyril for Dave." ], [ "The university president invited him.", "His friends" ], [ "The Italians were intimated by Dave because he could keep up with them in the race.", "Dave was the better player." ], [ "They call themselves \"cutters\" and have it on the back of their shirts.", "cutters" ], [ "Dave has his teammates tape his feet to his bike pedals so he can regain the lead and make up for lost time.", "Dave gets back on the bicycle." ], [ "because of the many limestone stonecutters in their hometown", "They are locals in Bloomington, Indiana" ], [ "the previous year", "The same year that Dave did, a year before the story takes place." ], [ "swim in the abandoned quarry", "swim " ], [ "Dave's love of Italian racers, culture, and music", "his love of italian music and culture" ], [ "after he was mistaken for Dave", "outside the sorority house" ], [ "Dave admitted that he wasn't an Italian exchange student", "She slaps Dave because Dave pretends to be an Italian exchange student in order to romance her" ], [ "the president of Indiana University", "Dr. John W. Ryan" ], [ "Ray and Evelyn", "Dave's parents" ], [ "his feet were taped to the bike pedals", "Moocher, Cyril and Mike take turns pedaling for Dave." ], [ "after he met a French student at the univerisity", "Dave meets a French female student after enrolling in the university." ] ]

[ [ "\n\nShe was in her chair near the old table, in the old dress, with her two\nhands crossed on her stick, her chin resting on them, and her eyes on\nthe fire. Sitting near her, with the white shoe, that had never been\nworn, in her hand, and her head bent as she looked at it, was an elegant\nlady whom I had never seen.\n\n\"Come in, Pip,\" Miss Havisham continued to mutter, without looking round\nor up; \"come in, Pip, how do you do, Pip? so you", "\n\"Nothing but beggar my neighbor, miss.\"\n\n\"Beggar him,\" said Miss Havisham to Estella. So we sat down to cards.\n\nIt was then I began to understand that everything in the room had\nstopped, like the watch and the clock, a long time ago. I noticed that\nMiss Havisham put down the jewel exactly on the spot from which she had\ntaken it up. As Estella dealt the cards, I glanced at the dressing-table\nagain, and saw that the shoe upon it, once white, now yellow, had never\nbeen", "the nature of a muslin mop,--and\nstrewing the ground with her hair,--which assuredly had never grown\non her head. She did not appear when we afterwards went up to Miss\nHavisham's room, and we four played at whist. In the interval, Miss\nHavisham, in a fantastic way, had put some of the most beautiful jewels\nfrom her dressing-table into Estella's hair, and about her bosom and\narms; and I saw even my guardian look at her from under his thick\neyebrows, and raise", ", when we began\nthe old slow circuit round about the ashes of the bridal feast. But,\nin the funereal room, with that figure of the grave fallen back in the\nchair fixing its eyes upon her, Estella looked more bright and beautiful\nthan before, and I was under stronger enchantment.\n\nThe time so melted away, that our early dinner-hour drew close at hand,\nand Estella left us to prepare herself. We had stopped near the centre\nof the long table, and Miss Havisham, with one of her withered arms\nstretched out", "\nthem from a distance, when Miss Havisham laid a hand upon my shoulder.\nIn her other hand she had a crutch-headed stick on which she leaned, and\nshe looked like the Witch of the place.\n\n\"This,\" said she, pointing to the long table with her stick, \"is where I\nwill be laid when I am dead. They shall come and look at me here.\"\n\nWith some vague misgiving that she might get upon the table then and\nthere and die at once, the complete realization of the ghastly waxwork\nat the Fair,", "stood looking at her own figure\nlying there. I remained quiet. Estella returned, and she too remained\nquiet. It seemed to me that we continued thus for a long time. In\nthe heavy air of the room, and the heavy darkness that brooded in its\nremoter corners, I even had an alarming fancy that Estella and I might\npresently begin to decay.\n\nAt length, not coming out of her distraught state by degrees, but in an\ninstant, Miss Havisham said, \"Let me see you two play cards; why have\nyou not begun", "worn. I glanced down at the foot from which the shoe was absent,\nand saw that the silk stocking on it, once white, now yellow, had been\ntrodden ragged. Without this arrest of everything, this standing still\nof all the pale decayed objects, not even the withered bridal dress on\nthe collapsed form could have looked so like grave-clothes, or the long\nveil so like a shroud.\n\nSo she sat, corpse-like, as we played at cards; the frillings and\ntrimmings on her bridal dress, looking", "Miss Havisham. It was the first time I had ever seen\nthem opposed.\n\nWe were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham\nstill had Estella's arm drawn through her own, and still clutched\nEstella's hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself.\nShe had shown a proud impatience more than once before, and had rather\nendured that fierce affection than accepted or returned it.\n\n\"What!\" said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, \"are you tired\nof", "no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I knew\nso well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I looked back\nat Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his hat with the\ngreatest care, and was coming after us in long strides on the tips of\nhis toes.\n\nEstella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the coat-cuff\nand conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was seated at her\ndressing-table, and looked round at us immediately", "\nAn elderly woman, whom I had seen before as one of the servants who\nlived in the supplementary house across the back courtyard, opened the\ngate. The lighted candle stood in the dark passage within, as of old,\nand I took it up and ascended the staircase alone. Miss Havisham was not\nin her own room, but was in the larger room across the landing. Looking\nin at the door, after knocking in vain, I saw her sitting on the hearth\nin a ragged chair, close before, and lost in the contemplation of, the\nash", "of the chair, rested that clenched hand upon the yellow\ncloth. As Estella looked back over her shoulder before going out at the\ndoor, Miss Havisham kissed that hand to her, with a ravenous intensity\nthat was of its kind quite dreadful.\n\nThen, Estella being gone and we two left alone, she turned to me, and\nsaid in a whisper,--\n\n\"Is she beautiful, graceful, well-grown? Do you admire her?\"\n\n\"Everybody must who sees her, Miss Havisham.\"\n\nShe drew an", "where. At last, when the night was\nslow to creep on towards two o'clock, I felt that I absolutely could no\nlonger bear the place as a place to lie down in, and that I must get up.\nI therefore got up and put on my clothes, and went out across the yard\ninto the long stone passage, designing to gain the outer courtyard and\nwalk there for the relief of my mind. But I was no sooner in the passage\nthan I extinguished my candle; for I saw Miss Havisham going along it\nin a ghostly manner, making a", "\"Ah! How many times? Ten thousand times?\"\n\n\"Oh! Certainly not so many.\"\n\n\"Twice?\"\n\n\"Jaggers,\" interposed Miss Havisham, much to my relief, \"leave my Pip\nalone, and go with him to your dinner.\"\n\nHe complied, and we groped our way down the dark stairs together. While\nwe were still on our way to those detached apartments across the paved\nyard at the back, he asked me how often I had seen Miss Havisham eat\nand drink; offering me a breadth of", "\n\n\"Why, what's the matter with you?\" asked Miss Havisham, with exceeding\nsharpness.\n\n\"Nothing worth mentioning,\" replied Camilla. \"I don't wish to make a\ndisplay of my feelings, but I have habitually thought of you more in the\nnight than I am quite equal to.\"\n\n\"Then don't think of me,\" retorted Miss Havisham.\n\n\"Very easily said!\" remarked Camilla, amiably repressing a sob, while a\nhitch came into her upper lip, and her tears overflowed", "the table.\n\n\"Pip, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Pip?\"\n\n\"Mr. Pumblechook's boy, ma'am. Come--to play.\"\n\n\"Come nearer; let me look at you. Come close.\"\n\nIt was when I stood before her, avoiding her eyes, that I took note of\nthe surrounding objects in detail, and saw that her watch had stopped\nat twenty minutes to nine, and that a clock in the room had stopped at\ntwenty minutes to nine.\n\n\"Look at me,\" said Miss Havisham. \"", "for a purpose, had wanted her to take naturally to the daylight and she\ncould not do it, you would have been disappointed and angry?\"\n\nMiss Havisham sat listening (or it seemed so, for I could not see her\nface), but still made no answer.\n\n\"So,\" said Estella, \"I must be taken as I have been made. The success is\nnot mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.\"\n\nMiss Havisham had settled down, I hardly knew how, upon the floor, among\nthe faded bridal relics with", ", I didn't know\nwhat to do. In my politeness, I would have stopped; but Miss\nHavisham twitched my shoulder, and we posted on,--with a shame-faced\nconsciousness on my part that they would think it was all my doing.\n\n\"Dear Miss Havisham,\" said Miss Sarah Pocket. \"How well you look!\"\n\n\"I do not,\" returned Miss Havisham. \"I am yellow skin and bone.\"\n\nCamilla brightened when Miss Pocket met with this rebuff; and she\nmurmured, as she", "her legs to her bosom. \"It's all very true! It's a weakness\nto be so affectionate, but I can't help it. No doubt my health would be\nmuch better if it was otherwise, still I wouldn't change my disposition\nif I could. It's the cause of much suffering, but it's a consolation to\nknow I posses it, when I wake up in the night.\" Here another burst of\nfeeling.\n\nMiss Havisham and I had never stopped all this time, but kept going\nround and round the room", "say nothing of her. What\ndo you think of her?\"\n\n\"I don't like to say,\" I stammered.\n\n\"Tell me in my ear,\" said Miss Havisham, bending down.\n\n\"I think she is very proud,\" I replied, in a whisper.\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I think she is very pretty.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I think she is very insulting.\" (She was looking at me then with a look\nof supreme aversion.)\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I", "been so much the better for me never to have entered,\nnever to have seen.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLIV\n\nIn the room where the dressing-table stood, and where the wax-candles\nburnt on the wall, I found Miss Havisham and Estella; Miss Havisham\nseated on a settee near the fire, and Estella on a cushion at her feet.\nEstella was knitting, and Miss Havisham was looking on. They both raised\ntheir eyes as I went in, and both saw an alteration in me." ], [ "of their being imprisoned, whipped, transported,\nneglected, cast out, qualified in all ways for the hangman, and growing\nup to be hanged. Put the case that pretty nigh all the children he saw\nin his daily business life he had reason to look upon as so much\nspawn, to develop into the fish that were to come to his net,--to be\nprosecuted, defended, forsworn, made orphans, bedevilled somehow.\"\n\n\"I follow you, sir.\"\n\n\"Put the case, Pip, that here was", "; and it was from\nthe talk of some of his people in trouble (some of his people being\nalways in trouble) that I heard what I did. I kept my ears open, seeming\nto have them shut, until I heard that he was absent, and I thought that\nwould be the best time for making the attempt. I can only suppose now,\nthat it was a part of his policy, as a very clever man, habitually to\ndeceive his own instruments. You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am\nsure I tried to serve you,", "swore it was Death.\"\n\n\"And so I swear it is Death,\" said he, putting his pipe back in his\nmouth, \"and Death by the rope, in the open street not fur from this, and\nit's serious that you should fully understand it to be so. What then,\nwhen that's once done? Here I am. To go back now 'ud be as bad as to\nstand ground--worse. Besides, Pip, I'm here, because I've meant it by\nyou, years and years. As to what I dare, I'm a", "answered, No.\n\n\"Well!\" he said, \"I was, and got convicted. As to took up on suspicion,\nthat was twice or three times in the four or five year that it lasted;\nbut evidence was wanting. At last, me and Compeyson was both committed\nfor felony,--on a charge of putting stolen notes in circulation,--and\nthere was other charges behind. Compeyson says to me, 'Separate\ndefences, no communication,' and that was all. And I was so miserable\npoor, that I sold all the clothes I had", "being suspicious, I even suspected\nthis poor actor. I mistrusted a design to entrap me into some admission.\nTherefore I glanced at him as we walked on together, but said nothing.\n\n\"I had a ridiculous fancy that he must be with you, Mr. Pip, till I saw\nthat you were quite unconscious of him, sitting behind you there like a\nghost.\"\n\nMy former chill crept over me again, but I was resolved not to speak\nyet, for it was quite consistent with his words that he might be set on\nto induce me to connect these", "a still more tremendous one; \"you like that, don't you? If\nyou're not tired, Mr. Pip--though I know it's tiring to strangers--will\nyou tip him one more? You can't think how it pleases him.\"\n\nI tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him\nbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch in\nthe arbor; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it had taken\nhim a good many years", "ask of\nme, the subordinate; but you'll never catch 'em asking any questions of\nmy principal.\"\n\n\"Is this young gentleman one of the 'prentices or articled ones of your\noffice?\" asked the turnkey, with a grin at Mr. Wemmick's humor.\n\n\"There he goes again, you see!\" cried Wemmick, \"I told you so! Asks\nanother question of the subordinate before his first is dry! Well,\nsupposing Mr. Pip is one of them?\"\n\n\"Why then", "\nthat person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which\nto encumber such a rise in fortune; but if you have any objection to it,\nthis is the time to mention it. Speak out.\"\n\nOnce more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations.\"\nThough he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still\ncould not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion; and even", "; \"and it's no more than your\nmerits (as I said when my opinion was asked), and I wish you joy of the\nmoney!\"\n\nIf the villain had stopped here, his case would have been sufficiently\nawful, but he blackened his guilt by proceeding to take me into custody,\nwith a right of patronage that left all his former criminality far\nbehind.\n\n\"Now you see, Joseph and wife,\" said Pumblechook, as he took me by the\narm above the elbow, \"I am one of them that always go right through", "is\nwell with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you go home,--which is another\nreason for your not going home last night. But, after you have gone\nhome, don't go back here. You are very welcome, I am sure, Mr. Pip\"; his\nhands were now out of his sleeves, and I was shaking them; \"and let me\nfinally impress one important point upon you.\" He laid his hands upon\nmy shoulders, and added in a solemn whisper: \"Avail yourself of this\nevening to lay hold of his portable property. You", ", \"because the man\nwho fills the post of trust never is the right sort of man.\" It seemed\nquite to put him into spirits to find that this particular post was\nnot exceptionally held by the right sort of man, and he listened in a\nsatisfied manner while I told him what knowledge I had of Orlick. \"Very\ngood, Pip,\" he observed, when I had concluded, \"I'll go round presently,\nand pay our friend off.\" Rather alarmed by this summary action, I was\nfor a little delay, and even hinted that our friend himself", "again,\nstuck his pipe in a button-hole of his coat, spread a hand on each knee,\nand after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few silent moments,\nlooked round at us and said what follows.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII\n\n\"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a going fur to tell you my life\nlike a song, or a story-book. But to give it you short and handy, I'll\nput it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and out of jail, in", "'t.\"\n\n\"And now, though I know you have already done it in your own kind\nhearts, pray tell me, both, that you forgive me! Pray let me hear you\nsay the words, that I may carry the sound of them away with me, and then\nI shall be able to believe that you can trust me, and think better of\nme, in the time to come!\"\n\n\"O dear old Pip, old chap,\" said Joe. \"God knows as I forgive you, if I\nhave anythink to forgive!\"\n\n\"Amen! And God knows I", "\n\nThe Justices were sitting in the Town Hall near at hand, and we at\nonce went over to have me bound apprentice to Joe in the Magisterial\npresence. I say we went over, but I was pushed over by Pumblechook,\nexactly as if I had that moment picked a pocket or fired a rick; indeed,\nit was the general impression in Court that I had been taken red-handed;\nfor, as Pumblechook shoved me before him through the crowd, I heard some\npeople say, \"What's he done?\" and others,", "ience of that kind. But now about this other matter. I'll put a\ncase to you. Mind! I admit nothing.\"\n\nHe waited for me to declare that I quite understood that he expressly\nsaid that he admitted nothing.\n\n\"Now, Pip,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"put this case. Put the case that a\nwoman, under such circumstances as you have mentioned, held her child\nconcealed, and was obliged to communicate the fact to her legal adviser,\non his representing to her that he must know, with an eye to the\nlat", "almost in a frenzy of fear and dislike, \"I want to speak\nto you. I want to know what is to be done. I want to know how you are to\nbe kept out of danger, how long you are going to stay, what projects you\nhave.\"\n\n\"Look'ee here, Pip,\" said he, laying his hand on my arm in a suddenly\naltered and subdued manner; \"first of all, look'ee here. I forgot myself\nhalf a minute ago. What I said was low; that's what it was; low. Look'", "Pip's comrade, that\nthat man got me into such nets as made me his black slave. I was always\nin debt to him, always under his thumb, always a working, always a\ngetting into danger. He was younger than me, but he'd got craft, and\nhe'd got learning, and he overmatched me five hundred times told and\nno mercy. My Missis as I had the hard time wi'--Stop though! I ain't\nbrought her in--\"\n\nHe looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost", "ee\nhere, Pip. Look over it. I ain't a going to be low.\"\n\n\"First,\" I resumed, half groaning, \"what precautions can be taken\nagainst your being recognized and seized?\"\n\n\"No, dear boy,\" he said, in the same tone as before, \"that don't\ngo first. Lowness goes first. I ain't took so many year to make a\ngentleman, not without knowing what's due to him. Look'ee here, Pip. I\nwas low; that's what I", ". Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put my\nmouth into the forms of saying to Joe, \"What's a convict?\" Joe put his\nmouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate answer, that I\ncould make out nothing of it but the single word \"Pip.\"\n\n\"There was a conwict off last night,\" said Joe, aloud, \"after\nsunset-gun. And they fired warning of him. And now it appears they're\nfiring warning of another.\"\n\n\"Who's firing?\" said I.\n\n", "it was--and a dram of liquor,\nand a pie.\"\n\n\"Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?\" asked\nthe sergeant, confidentially.\n\n\"My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?\"\n\n\"So,\" said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and\nwithout the least glance at me,--\"so you're the blacksmith, are you?\nThan I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie.\"\n" ], [ "-no, my dear boy,\" said Herbert, after taking time to examine me. \"You\nare rather excited, but you are quite yourself.\"\n\n\"I know I am quite myself. And the man we have in hiding down the river,\nis Estella's Father.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LI\n\nWhat purpose I had in view when I was hot on tracing out and proving\nEstella's parentage, I cannot say. It will presently be seen that the\nquestion was not before me in a distinct shape until it was put before\nme by a wiser head than", "?\"\n\n\"I have seen her mother within these three days.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"And so have you, sir. And you have seen her still more recently.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"Perhaps I know more of Estella's history than even you do,\" said I. \"I\nknow her father too.\"\n\nA certain stop that Mr. Jaggers came to in his manner--he was too\nself-possessed to change his manner, but he could not help its being\nbrought to", "love, and save from my fate. I had first seen him when I sent\nfor him to lay this place waste for me; having read of him in the\nnewspapers, before I and the world parted. He told me that he would\nlook about him for such an orphan child. One night he brought her here\nasleep, and I called her Estella.\"\n\n\"Might I ask her age then?\"\n\n\"Two or three. She herself knows nothing, but that she was left an\norphan and I adopted her.\"\n\nSo convinced I was of that woman's", "ose child was Estella?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"You don't know?\"\n\nShe shook her head again.\n\n\"But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?\"\n\n\"Brought her here.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me how that came about?\"\n\nShe answered in a low whisper and with caution: \"I had been shut up in\nthese rooms a long time (I don't know how long; you know what time the\nclocks keep here), when I told him that I wanted a little girl to rear\nand", "me?\"\n\n\"Only a little tired of myself,\" replied Estella, disengaging her arm,\nand moving to the great chimney-piece, where she stood looking down at\nthe fire.\n\n\"Speak the truth, you ingrate!\" cried Miss Havisham, passionately\nstriking her stick upon the floor; \"you are tired of me.\"\n\nEstella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down\nat the fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a\nself-possessed indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was", ", and then her stay in the\nroom was very short, and Mr. Jaggers was sharp with her. But her hands\nwere Estella's hands, and her eyes were Estella's eyes, and if she had\nreappeared a hundred times I could have been neither more sure nor less\nsure that my conviction was the truth.\n\nIt was a dull evening, for Wemmick drew his wine, when it came round,\nquite as a matter of business,--just as he might have drawn his salary\nwhen that came round,--and with his eyes on his chief", "I derived\nthat, from the look they interchanged.\n\n\"And what wind,\" said Miss Havisham, \"blows you here, Pip?\"\n\nThough she looked steadily at me, I saw that she was rather confused.\nEstella, pausing a moment in her knitting with her eyes upon me, and\nthen going on, I fancied that I read in the action of her fingers, as\nplainly as if she had told me in the dumb alphabet, that she perceived I\nhad discovered my real benefactor.\n\n\"Miss Havisham,\" said", "I do know your story, and have known it ever since I first left\nthis neighborhood. It has inspired me with great commiseration, and I\nhope I understand it and its influences. Does what has passed between us\ngive me any excuse for asking you a question relative to Estella? Not as\nshe is, but as she was when she first came here?\"\n\nShe was seated on the ground, with her arms on the ragged chair, and\nher head leaning on them. She looked full at me when I said this, and\nreplied, \"Go on.\"\n\n\"Wh", "am?\"\n\n\"I don't say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl's hard and\nhaughty and capricious to the last degree, and has been brought up by\nMiss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex.\"\n\n\"What relation is she to Miss Havisham?\"\n\n\"None,\" said he. \"Only adopted.\"\n\n\"Why should she wreak revenge on all the male sex? What revenge?\"\n\n\"Lord, Mr. Pip!\" said he. \"Don't you know?\"\n\n\"No", "said I, something hurriedly, \"for I have\nseen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never\ngive to--me.\"\n\n\"Do you want me then,\" said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed and\nserious, if not angry, look, \"to deceive and entrap you?\"\n\n\"Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?\"\n\n\"Yes, and many others,--all of them but you. Here is Mrs. Brandley. I'll\nsay no more.\"\n\n* *\n\nAnd now that I", "is,\" said I, \"because I cannot bear that people should say, 'she\nthrows away her graces and attractions on a mere boor, the lowest in the\ncrowd.'\"\n\n\"I can bear it,\" said Estella.\n\n\"Oh! don't be so proud, Estella, and so inflexible.\"\n\n\"Calls me proud and inflexible in this breath!\" said Estella, opening\nher hands. \"And in his last breath reproached me for stooping to a\nboor!\"\n\n\"There is no doubt you do,\"", "forgotten,\" retorted Estella,--\"not forgotten, but treasured up\nin my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have\nyou found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving\nadmission here,\" she touched her bosom with her hand, \"to anything that\nyou excluded? Be just to me.\"\n\n\"So proud, so proud!\" moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her gray hair\nwith both her hands.\n\n\"Who taught me to be proud?\" returned Estella. \"Who praised me when I\nlearnt", ", if she had reflected on the\ngravity of what she did. But I think she did not. I think that, in the\nendurance of her own trial, she forgot mine, Estella.\"\n\nI saw Miss Havisham put her hand to her heart and hold it there, as she\nsat looking by turns at Estella and at me.\n\n\"It seems,\" said Estella, very calmly, \"that there are sentiments,\nfancies,--I don't know how to call them,--which I am not able to\ncomprehend. When you say you", "surprise you, it will not\ndisplease you. I am as unhappy as you can ever have meant me to be.\"\n\nMiss Havisham continued to look steadily at me. I could see in the\naction of Estella's fingers as they worked that she attended to what I\nsaid; but she did not look up.\n\n\"I have found out who my patron is. It is not a fortunate discovery,\nand is not likely ever to enrich me in reputation, station, fortune,\nanything. There are reasons why I must say no more of that. It is not", "my\nsecret, but another's.\"\n\nAs I was silent for a while, looking at Estella and considering how to\ngo on, Miss Havisham repeated, \"It is not your secret, but another's.\nWell?\"\n\n\"When you first caused me to be brought here, Miss Havisham, when I\nbelonged to the village over yonder, that I wish I had never left,\nI suppose I did really come here, as any other chance boy might have\ncome,--as a kind of servant, to gratify a want or a whim, and", "where it is,\" said Joe; \"she ain't living.\"\n\n\"Did she linger long, Joe?\"\n\n\"Arter you was took ill, pretty much about what you might call (if you\nwas put to it) a week,\" said Joe; still determined, on my account, to\ncome at everything by degrees.\n\n\"Dear Joe, have you heard what becomes of her property?\"\n\n\"Well, old chap,\" said Joe, \"it do appear that she had settled the most\nof it, which I meantersay tied it up, on Miss Estella. But", "had not taken him\ninto her confidence as to her designing me for Estella; that he resented\nthis, and felt a jealousy about it; or that he really did object to\nthat scheme, and would have nothing to do with it. When I raised my eyes\nagain, I found that he had been shrewdly looking at me all the time, and\nwas doing so still.\n\n\"If that is all you have to say, sir,\" I remarked, \"there can be nothing\nleft for me to say.\"\n\nHe nodded assent, and pulled out his thief-d", "was past, she looked down at\nthe fire again.\n\n\"I cannot think,\" said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence \"why\nyou should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation.\nI have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been\nunfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness\nthat I can charge myself with.\"\n\n\"Would it be weakness to return my love?\" exclaimed Miss Havisham. \"But\nyes, yes, she would call it so!\"\n\n\"I begin", "by, Biddy,--all gone\nby!\"\n\nNevertheless, I knew, while I said those words, that I secretly intended\nto revisit the site of the old house that evening, alone, for her sake.\nYes, even so. For Estella's sake.\n\nI had heard of her as leading a most unhappy life, and as being\nseparated from her husband, who had used her with great cruelty, and who\nhad become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, brutality,\nand meanness. And I had heard of", "I call you mad,\" returned Estella, \"I, of all people? Does\nany one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I\ndo? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half\nas well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool\nthat is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up\ninto your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!\"\n\n\"Soon forgotten!\" moaned Miss Havisham. \"Times soon forgotten!\"\n\n\"No, not" ], [ "ose child was Estella?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"You don't know?\"\n\nShe shook her head again.\n\n\"But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?\"\n\n\"Brought her here.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me how that came about?\"\n\nShe answered in a low whisper and with caution: \"I had been shut up in\nthese rooms a long time (I don't know how long; you know what time the\nclocks keep here), when I told him that I wanted a little girl to rear\nand", "\"Call Estella,\" she repeated, flashing a look at me. \"You can do that.\nCall Estella. At the door.\"\n\nTo stand in the dark in a mysterious passage of an unknown house,\nbawling Estella to a scornful young lady neither visible nor responsive,\nand feeling it a dreadful liberty so to roar out her name, was almost\nas bad as playing to order. But she answered at last, and her light came\nalong the dark passage like a star.\n\nMiss Havisham beckoned her to come close, and took up", "my\nsecret, but another's.\"\n\nAs I was silent for a while, looking at Estella and considering how to\ngo on, Miss Havisham repeated, \"It is not your secret, but another's.\nWell?\"\n\n\"When you first caused me to be brought here, Miss Havisham, when I\nbelonged to the village over yonder, that I wish I had never left,\nI suppose I did really come here, as any other chance boy might have\ncome,--as a kind of servant, to gratify a want or a whim, and", "you, this time.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" said Estella, with a cold careless smile that always\nchilled me.\n\nAfter looking at the twilight without, for a little while, she went on\nto say:--\n\n\"The time has come round when Miss Havisham wishes to have me for a day\nat Satis. You are to take me there, and bring me back, if you will. She\nwould rather I did not travel alone, and objects to receiving my maid,\nfor she has a sensitive horror of being talked of by such people.", "am?\"\n\n\"I don't say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl's hard and\nhaughty and capricious to the last degree, and has been brought up by\nMiss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex.\"\n\n\"What relation is she to Miss Havisham?\"\n\n\"None,\" said he. \"Only adopted.\"\n\n\"Why should she wreak revenge on all the male sex? What revenge?\"\n\n\"Lord, Mr. Pip!\" said he. \"Don't you know?\"\n\n\"No", "love, and save from my fate. I had first seen him when I sent\nfor him to lay this place waste for me; having read of him in the\nnewspapers, before I and the world parted. He told me that he would\nlook about him for such an orphan child. One night he brought her here\nasleep, and I called her Estella.\"\n\n\"Might I ask her age then?\"\n\n\"Two or three. She herself knows nothing, but that she was left an\norphan and I adopted her.\"\n\nSo convinced I was of that woman's", "then; come\non your birthday.--Ay!\" she cried suddenly, turning herself and her\nchair towards me, \"You are looking round for Estella? Hey?\"\n\nI had been looking round,--in fact, for Estella,--and I stammered that I\nhoped she was well.\n\n\"Abroad,\" said Miss Havisham; \"educating for a lady; far out of reach;\nprettier than ever; admired by all who see her. Do you feel that you\nhave lost her?\"\n\nThere was such a malignant enjoyment in", "are\nhere, Pip?\"\n\nI told him when I had arrived, and how Miss Havisham had wished me to\ncome and see Estella. To which he replied, \"Ah! Very fine young lady!\"\nThen he pushed Miss Havisham in her chair before him, with one of his\nlarge hands, and put the other in his trousers-pocket as if the pocket\nwere full of secrets.\n\n\"Well, Pip! How often have you seen Miss Estella before?\" said he, when\nhe came to a stop.\n\n\"How often?\"\n\n", "did arise, and was not brought about by any one.\"\n\nAny one might have seen in her haggard face that there was no\nsuppression or evasion so far.\n\n\"But when I fell into the mistake I have so long remained in, at least\nyou led me on?\" said I.\n\n\"Yes,\" she returned, again nodding steadily, \"I let you go on.\"\n\n\"Was that kind?\"\n\n\"Who am I,\" cried Miss Havisham, striking her stick upon the floor\nand flashing into wrath so suddenly that Estella glanced up at", "no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I knew\nso well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I looked back\nat Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his hat with the\ngreatest care, and was coming after us in long strides on the tips of\nhis toes.\n\nEstella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the coat-cuff\nand conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was seated at her\ndressing-table, and looked round at us immediately", "Estella was set to wreak Miss Havisham's revenge on men, and that she\nwas not to be given to me until she had gratified it for a term. I saw\nin this, a reason for her being beforehand assigned to me. Sending her\nout to attract and torment and do mischief, Miss Havisham sent her with\nthe malicious assurance that she was beyond the reach of all admirers,\nand that all who staked upon that cast were secured to lose. I saw in\nthis that I, too, was tormented by a per", ". So you go\nto-morrow?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"And you are adopted by a rich person?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"Not named?\"\n\n\"No, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\nShe quite gloated on these questions and answers, so keen was her\nenjoyment of Sarah Pocket's jealous dismay. \"Well!\" she went on; \"you\nhave a promising career before", "kiss my hand as if I\nwere a queen, eh?--Well?\"\n\nShe looked up at me suddenly, only moving her eyes, and repeated in a\ngrimly playful manner,--\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"I heard, Miss Havisham,\" said I, rather at a loss, \"that you were so\nkind as to wish me to come and see you, and I came directly.\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\nThe lady whom I had never seen before, lifted up her eyes and looked\narchly at me, and then I saw that the eyes were Estella", "Havisham, playing with Estella's\nhair.\n\nEstella laughed, and looked at the shoe in her hand, and laughed again,\nand looked at me, and put the shoe down. She treated me as a boy still,\nbut she lured me on.\n\nWe sat in the dreamy room among the old strange influences which had\nso wrought upon me, and I learnt that she had but just come home from\nFrance, and that she was going to London. Proud and wilful as of old,\nshe had brought those qualities into such subjection", "\n\"You said just now that Estella was not related to Miss Havisham, but\nadopted. When adopted?\"\n\nHerbert shrugged his shoulders. \"There has always been an Estella, since\nI have heard of a Miss Havisham. I know no more. And now, Handel,\" said\nhe, finally throwing off the story as it were, \"there is a perfectly\nopen understanding between us. All that I know about Miss Havisham, you\nknow.\"\n\n\"And all that I know,\" I retorted, \"you know.\"\n\n\"I fully believe", "Miss Havisham had sent for me, to see if she could take a fancy to\nme. But she couldn't,--at all events, she didn't.\"\n\nI thought it polite to remark that I was surprised to hear that.\n\n\"Bad taste,\" said Herbert, laughing, \"but a fact. Yes, she had sent for\nme on a trial visit, and if I had come out of it successfully, I\nsuppose I should have been provided for; perhaps I should have been\nwhat-you-may-called it to Estella.\"\n\n\"What's that", "to think,\" said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment\nof calm wonder, \"that I almost understand how this comes about. If you\nhad brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of\nthese rooms, and had never let her know that there was such a thing as\nthe daylight by which she had never once seen your face,--if you had\ndone that, and then, for a purpose had wanted her to understand the\ndaylight and know all about it, you would have been disappointed and\nangry?\"\n\nMiss Havisham, with her", "understanding was established that they were necessary to her, and\nthat she was necessary to them. Mrs. Brandley had been a friend of Miss\nHavisham's before the time of her seclusion.\n\nIn Mrs. Brandley's house and out of Mrs. Brandley's house, I suffered\nevery kind and degree of torture that Estella could cause me. The\nnature of my relations with her, which placed me on terms of familiarity\nwithout placing me on terms of favor, conduced to my distraction.\nShe made use of me to tease other admir", "was past, she looked down at\nthe fire again.\n\n\"I cannot think,\" said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence \"why\nyou should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation.\nI have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been\nunfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness\nthat I can charge myself with.\"\n\n\"Would it be weakness to return my love?\" exclaimed Miss Havisham. \"But\nyes, yes, she would call it so!\"\n\n\"I begin", "I call you mad,\" returned Estella, \"I, of all people? Does\nany one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I\ndo? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half\nas well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool\nthat is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up\ninto your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!\"\n\n\"Soon forgotten!\" moaned Miss Havisham. \"Times soon forgotten!\"\n\n\"No, not" ], [ "marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond\nwas the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was\nrushing was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid\nof it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.\n\n\"Hold your noise!\" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from\namong the graves at the side of the church porch. \"Keep still, you\nlittle devil, or I'll cut your throat!\"\n\nA fearful man, all in coarse gray, with a great iron on", "the sergeant, reflecting; \"even if I was\nforced to halt here nigh two hours, that'll do. How far might you call\nyourselves from the marshes, hereabouts? Not above a mile, I reckon?\"\n\n\"Just a mile,\" said Mrs. Joe.\n\n\"That'll do. We begin to close in upon 'em about dusk. A little before\ndusk, my orders are. That'll do.\"\n\n\"Convicts, sergeant?\" asked Mr. Wopsle, in a matter-of-course", ". Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put my\nmouth into the forms of saying to Joe, \"What's a convict?\" Joe put his\nmouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate answer, that I\ncould make out nothing of it but the single word \"Pip.\"\n\n\"There was a conwict off last night,\" said Joe, aloud, \"after\nsunset-gun. And they fired warning of him. And now it appears they're\nfiring warning of another.\"\n\n\"Who's firing?\" said I.\n\n", "and the gibbet, and the\nmound of the Battery, and the opposite shore of the river, were plain,\nthough all of a watery lead color.\n\nWith my heart thumping like a blacksmith at Joe's broad shoulder, I\nlooked all about for any sign of the convicts. I could see none, I could\nhear none. Mr. Wopsle had greatly alarmed me more than once, by his\nblowing and hard breathing; but I knew the sounds by this time, and\ncould dissociate them from the object of pursuit. I", "it was--and a dram of liquor,\nand a pie.\"\n\n\"Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?\" asked\nthe sergeant, confidentially.\n\n\"My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?\"\n\n\"So,\" said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and\nwithout the least glance at me,--\"so you're the blacksmith, are you?\nThan I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie.\"\n", "with the door wide open, and\nunwonted lights that had been hastily caught up and put down scattered\nabout. Mr. Wopsle dropped into ask what was the matter (surmising that\na convict had been taken), but came running out in a great hurry.\n\n\"There's something wrong,\" said he, without stopping, \"up at your place,\nPip. Run all!\"\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked, keeping up with him. So did Orlick, at my side.\n\n\"I can't quite understand. The house seems to have", "\n\nBut I must have lost it longer than I had thought, since, although\nI could recognize nothing in the darkness and the fitful lights and\nshadows of our lamps, I traced marsh country in the cold damp wind that\nblew at us. Cowering forward for warmth and to make me a screen against\nthe wind, the convicts were closer to me than before. The very first\nwords I heard them interchange as I became conscious, were the words of\nmy own thought, \"Two One Pound notes.\"\n\n\"How did he get 'em?\" said the conv", "were\nan interesting Exhibition not formally open at the moment, and he the\nCurator. One was a taller and stouter man than the other, and appeared\nas a matter of course, according to the mysterious ways of the world,\nboth convict and free, to have had allotted to him the smaller suit of\nclothes. His arms and legs were like great pincushions of those shapes,\nand his attire disguised him absurdly; but I knew his half-closed eye\nat one glance. There stood the man whom I had seen on the settle at the\nThree J", "\n\n\"Yes,\" said I. \"I remember all that.\"\n\n\"Then, Mr. Pip, one of those two prisoners sat behind you tonight. I saw\nhim over your shoulder.\"\n\n\"Steady!\" I thought. I asked him then, \"Which of the two do you suppose\nyou saw?\"\n\n\"The one who had been mauled,\" he answered readily, \"and I'll swear I\nsaw him! The more I think of him, the more certain I am of him.\"\n\n\"This is very curious!\" said I, with the best assumption I could", "and said to me,\n\"Astonishing!\" And there he remained so long saying, \"Astonishing\" at\nintervals, so often, that I began to think his senses were never coming\nback. At length he prolonged his remark into \"Pip, I do assure you this\nis as-TON-ishing!\" and so, by degrees, became conversational and able to\nwalk away.\n\nI have reason to think that Joe's intellects were brightened by the\nencounter they had passed through, and that on our way to Pumblechook's\nhe invented a", "stakes\nand stones, and saw him put into the boat, which was rowed by a crew of\nconvicts like himself. No one seemed surprised to see him, or interested\nin seeing him, or glad to see him, or sorry to see him, or spoke a word,\nexcept that somebody in the boat growled as if to dogs, \"Give way,\nyou!\" which was the signal for the dip of the oars. By the light of the\ntorches, we saw the black Hulk lying out a little way from the mud of\nthe shore, like a wicked Noah", "Pray don't do it,\nsir.\"\n\n\"Tell us your name!\" said the man. \"Quick!\"\n\n\"Pip, sir.\"\n\n\"Once more,\" said the man, staring at me. \"Give it mouth!\"\n\n\"Pip. Pip, sir.\"\n\n\"Show us where you live,\" said the man. \"Pint out the place!\"\n\nI pointed to where our village lay, on the flat in-shore among the\nalder-trees and pollards, a mile or more from the church.\n\nThe man, after", "now, or tramps, or\nvagrants of any sort, out there?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Joe; \"none but a runaway convict now and then. And we don't\nfind them, easy. Eh, Mr. Wopsle?\"\n\nMr. Wopsle, with a majestic remembrance of old discomfiture, assented;\nbut not warmly.\n\n\"Seems you have been out after such?\" asked the stranger.\n\n\"Once,\" returned Joe. \"Not that we wanted to take them, you understand;\nwe went", "\n\"How do you do?\" said I, shaking hands with him as we turned down the\nstreet together. \"I saw that you saw me.\"\n\n\"Saw you, Mr. Pip!\" he returned. \"Yes, of course I saw you. But who else\nwas there?\"\n\n\"Who else?\"\n\n\"It is the strangest thing,\" said Mr. Wopsle, drifting into his lost\nlook again; \"and yet I could swear to him.\"\n\nBecoming alarmed, I entreated Mr. Wopsle to explain his meaning.\n\n\"Whe", "I have\nseen that man.\"\n\n\"I swear I don't see him here,\" said I.\n\n\"Say that likewise,\" retorted Pumblechook. \"Say you said that, and even\nJoseph will probably betray surprise.\"\n\n\"There you quite mistake him,\" said I. \"I know better.\"\n\n\"Says you,\" Pumblechook went on, \"'Joseph, I have seen that man, and\nthat man bears you no malice and bears me no malice. He knows your\ncharacter, Joseph, and is well acquainted with", "\n\"Don't you mind talking, Pip,\" said he, after again drawing his sleeve\nover his eyes and forehead, as the click came in his throat which I well\nremembered,--and he was all the more horrible to me that he was so much\nin earnest; \"you can't do better nor keep quiet, dear boy. You ain't\nlooked slowly forward to this as I have; you wosn't prepared for this as\nI wos. But didn't you never think it might be me?\"\n\n\"O no, no, no,\"", "one presently.\"\n\nIn effect, we had not walked many yards further, when the\nwell-remembered boom came towards us, deadened by the mist, and heavily\nrolled away along the low grounds by the river, as if it were pursuing\nand threatening the fugitives.\n\n\"A good night for cutting off in,\" said Orlick. \"We'd be puzzled how to\nbring down a jail-bird on the wing, to-night.\"\n\nThe subject was a suggestive one to me, and I thought about it in\nsilence. Mr.", "ee\nhere, Pip. Look over it. I ain't a going to be low.\"\n\n\"First,\" I resumed, half groaning, \"what precautions can be taken\nagainst your being recognized and seized?\"\n\n\"No, dear boy,\" he said, in the same tone as before, \"that don't\ngo first. Lowness goes first. I ain't took so many year to make a\ngentleman, not without knowing what's due to him. Look'ee here, Pip. I\nwas low; that's what I", "been violently\nentered when Joe Gargery was out. Supposed by convicts. Somebody has\nbeen attacked and hurt.\"\n\nWe were running too fast to admit of more being said, and we made no\nstop until we got into our kitchen. It was full of people; the whole\nvillage was there, or in the yard; and there was a surgeon, and there\nwas Joe, and there were a group of women, all on the floor in the midst\nof the kitchen. The unemployed bystanders drew back when they saw me,\nand so I became", "ide, before the coach had left the\nBlue Boar in our town. For all that I knew this perfectly well, I still\nfelt as if it were not safe to let the coach-office be out of my sight\nlonger than five minutes at a time; and in this condition of unreason I\nhad performed the first half-hour of a watch of four or five hours, when\nWemmick ran against me.\n\n\"Halloa, Mr. Pip,\" said he; \"how do you do? I should hardly have thought\nthis was your beat.\"\n\nI" ], [ "no more to say,\" said I, with a sigh, after standing silent for\na little while. \"I have verified my information, and there's an end.\"\n\n\"And Magwitch--in New South Wales--having at last disclosed himself,\"\nsaid Mr. Jaggers, \"you will comprehend, Pip, how rigidly throughout\nmy communication with you, I have always adhered to the strict line of\nfact. There has never been the least departure from the strict line of\nfact. You are quite aware of that?\"\n\n\"Quite, sir.\"", "again,\nstuck his pipe in a button-hole of his coat, spread a hand on each knee,\nand after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few silent moments,\nlooked round at us and said what follows.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII\n\n\"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a going fur to tell you my life\nlike a song, or a story-book. But to give it you short and handy, I'll\nput it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and out of jail, in", "swore it was Death.\"\n\n\"And so I swear it is Death,\" said he, putting his pipe back in his\nmouth, \"and Death by the rope, in the open street not fur from this, and\nit's serious that you should fully understand it to be so. What then,\nwhen that's once done? Here I am. To go back now 'ud be as bad as to\nstand ground--worse. Besides, Pip, I'm here, because I've meant it by\nyou, years and years. As to what I dare, I'm a", ". Probably it is through Provis that you have received the\nexplanation of Magwitch--in New South Wales?\"\n\n\"It came through Provis,\" I replied.\n\n\"Good day, Pip,\" said Mr. Jaggers, offering his hand; \"glad to have\nseen you. In writing by post to Magwitch--in New South Wales--or in\ncommunicating with him through Provis, have the goodness to mention that\nthe particulars and vouchers of our long account shall be sent to you,\ntogether with the balance; for there is still", "\n\n\"I communicated to Magwitch--in New South Wales--when he first wrote to\nme--from New South Wales--the caution that he must not expect me ever to\ndeviate from the strict line of fact. I also communicated to him another\ncaution. He appeared to me to have obscurely hinted in his letter at\nsome distant idea he had of seeing you in England here. I cautioned\nhim that I must hear no more of that; that he was not at all likely to\nobtain a pardon; that he was expatriated for the term of", "said in a low voice,\n\"Is it real?\"\n\n\"It is I, Pip. Mr. Jaggers gave me your note yesterday, and I have lost\nno time.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Thank you.\"\n\nAs I brought another of the ragged chairs to the hearth and sat down, I\nremarked a new expression on her face, as if she were afraid of me.\n\n\"I want,\" she said, \"to pursue that subject you mentioned to me when you\nwere last here, and to show you that I am not all stone. But perhaps you\n", "ask of\nme, the subordinate; but you'll never catch 'em asking any questions of\nmy principal.\"\n\n\"Is this young gentleman one of the 'prentices or articled ones of your\noffice?\" asked the turnkey, with a grin at Mr. Wemmick's humor.\n\n\"There he goes again, you see!\" cried Wemmick, \"I told you so! Asks\nanother question of the subordinate before his first is dry! Well,\nsupposing Mr. Pip is one of them?\"\n\n\"Why then", "\n\"Don't you mind talking, Pip,\" said he, after again drawing his sleeve\nover his eyes and forehead, as the click came in his throat which I well\nremembered,--and he was all the more horrible to me that he was so much\nin earnest; \"you can't do better nor keep quiet, dear boy. You ain't\nlooked slowly forward to this as I have; you wosn't prepared for this as\nI wos. But didn't you never think it might be me?\"\n\n\"O no, no, no,\"", "'t.\"\n\n\"And now, though I know you have already done it in your own kind\nhearts, pray tell me, both, that you forgive me! Pray let me hear you\nsay the words, that I may carry the sound of them away with me, and then\nI shall be able to believe that you can trust me, and think better of\nme, in the time to come!\"\n\n\"O dear old Pip, old chap,\" said Joe. \"God knows as I forgive you, if I\nhave anythink to forgive!\"\n\n\"Amen! And God knows I", "almost in a frenzy of fear and dislike, \"I want to speak\nto you. I want to know what is to be done. I want to know how you are to\nbe kept out of danger, how long you are going to stay, what projects you\nhave.\"\n\n\"Look'ee here, Pip,\" said he, laying his hand on my arm in a suddenly\naltered and subdued manner; \"first of all, look'ee here. I forgot myself\nhalf a minute ago. What I said was low; that's what it was; low. Look'", "it was--and a dram of liquor,\nand a pie.\"\n\n\"Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?\" asked\nthe sergeant, confidentially.\n\n\"My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?\"\n\n\"So,\" said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and\nwithout the least glance at me,--\"so you're the blacksmith, are you?\nThan I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie.\"\n", "little:--\n\n\"You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t'other side the world, I\nwas always a looking to this side; and it come flat to be there, for\nall I was a growing rich. Everybody knowed Magwitch, and Magwitch could\ncome, and Magwitch could go, and nobody's head would be troubled about\nhim. They ain't so easy concerning me here, dear boy,--wouldn't be,\nleastwise, if they knowed where I was.\"\n\n\"If all", ", informed, Mr. Jaggers.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"I have been informed by a person named Abel Magwitch, that he is the\nbenefactor so long unknown to me.\"\n\n\"That is the man,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"in New South Wales.\"\n\n\"And only he?\" said I.\n\n\"And only he,\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"I am not so unreasonable, sir, as to think you at all responsible for\nmy mistakes and wrong conclusions; but I always supposed it was Miss\nHav", "I did, that he had made a point there, and he pulled hard\nat his pipe to keep himself from weakening it by repetition.\n\n\"You see, Pip,\" Joe pursued, as soon as he was past that danger, \"Miss\nHavisham done the handsome thing by you. When Miss Havisham done the\nhandsome thing by you, she called me back to say to me as that were\nall.\"\n\n\"Yes, Joe. I heard her.\"\n\n\"ALL,\" Joe repeated, very emphatically.\n\n\"Yes, Joe. I", "his natural\nlife; and that his presenting himself in this country would be an act of\nfelony, rendering him liable to the extreme penalty of the law. I gave\nMagwitch that caution,\" said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at me; \"I wrote\nit to New South Wales. He guided himself by it, no doubt.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said I.\n\n\"I have been informed by Wemmick,\" pursued Mr. Jaggers, still looking\nhard at me, \"that he has received a letter, under date Portsmouth, from\na", "vert to the evening when we first\nencountered one another in your village. What did I tell you then, Pip?\"\n\n\"You told me, Mr. Jaggers, that it might be years hence when that person\nappeared.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"that's my answer.\"\n\nAs we looked full at one another, I felt my breath come quicker in my\nstrong desire to get something out of him. And as I felt that it came\nquicker, and as I felt that he saw that it came quicker, I felt", "\"But he\nis accused of it. So might you or I be. Either of us might be accused of\nit, you know.\"\n\n\"Only neither of us is,\" I remarked.\n\n\"Yah!\" said Wemmick, touching me on the breast with his forefinger;\n\"you're a deep one, Mr. Pip! Would you like to have a look at Newgate?\nHave you time to spare?\"\n\nI had so much time to spare, that the proposal came as a relief,\nnotwithstanding its irreconcilability with my latent desire", "\n\n\"Yes,\" said I. \"I remember all that.\"\n\n\"Then, Mr. Pip, one of those two prisoners sat behind you tonight. I saw\nhim over your shoulder.\"\n\n\"Steady!\" I thought. I asked him then, \"Which of the two do you suppose\nyou saw?\"\n\n\"The one who had been mauled,\" he answered readily, \"and I'll swear I\nsaw him! The more I think of him, the more certain I am of him.\"\n\n\"This is very curious!\" said I, with the best assumption I could", "of their being imprisoned, whipped, transported,\nneglected, cast out, qualified in all ways for the hangman, and growing\nup to be hanged. Put the case that pretty nigh all the children he saw\nin his daily business life he had reason to look upon as so much\nspawn, to develop into the fish that were to come to his net,--to be\nprosecuted, defended, forsworn, made orphans, bedevilled somehow.\"\n\n\"I follow you, sir.\"\n\n\"Put the case, Pip, that here was", ",\" said I.\n\n\"Dear me! It's quite a story, and shall be saved till dinner-time. And\nnow let me take the liberty of asking you a question. How did you come\nthere, that day?\"\n\nI told him, and he was attentive until I had finished, and then burst\nout laughing again, and asked me if I was sore afterwards? I didn't\nask him if he was, for my conviction on that point was perfectly\nestablished.\n\n\"Mr. Jaggers is your guardian, I understand?\" he went on" ], [ "strange man, turning to Joe, \"that you was a\nblacksmith.\"\n\n\"Yes. I said it, you know,\" said Joe.\n\n\"What'll you drink, Mr.--? You didn't mention your name, by the bye.\"\n\nJoe mentioned it now, and the strange man called him by it. \"What'll you\ndrink, Mr. Gargery? At my expense? To top up with?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Joe, \"to tell you the truth, I ain't much in the habit of\ndrinking at anybody'", "\n\"Which I meantersay, Pip,\" Joe now observed in a manner that was at\nonce expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great\npoliteness, \"as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time\nwhat you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man.\"\n\n\"Well!\" said Miss Havisham. \"And you have reared the boy, with the\nintention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?\"\n\n\"You know, Pip,\" replied", ".\n\n\"Missis,\" returned the gallant sergeant, \"speaking for myself, I should\nreply, the honor and pleasure of his fine wife's acquaintance; speaking\nfor the king, I answer, a little job done.\"\n\nThis was received as rather neat in the sergeant; insomuch that Mr.\nPumblechook cried audibly, \"Good again!\"\n\n\"You see, blacksmith,\" said the sergeant, who had by this time picked\nout Joe with his eye, \"we have had an accident with these, and I find\n", "Joe, \"as you and me were ever friends, and it\nwere looked for'ard to betwixt us, as being calc'lated to lead to\nlarks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever made objections to the\nbusiness,--such as its being open to black and sut, or such-like,--not\nbut what they would have been attended to, don't you see?\"\n\n\"Has the boy,\" said Miss Havisham, \"ever made any objection? Does he\nlike the trade?\"\n\n\"Which it is well beknown", "\nagain; and presently again; and after that, looked frowning and moody.\nOn the next day of my attendance, when our usual exercise was over, and\nI had landed her at her dressing-table, she stayed me with a movement of\nher impatient fingers:--\n\n\"Tell me the name again of that blacksmith of yours.\"\n\n\"Joe Gargery, ma'am.\"\n\n\"Meaning the master you were to be apprenticed to?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"You had better be apprenticed at once.", "\nyou're kindly let to live, which I han't made up my mind about?\"\n\n\"My sister, sir,--Mrs. Joe Gargery,--wife of Joe Gargery, the\nblacksmith, sir.\"\n\n\"Blacksmith, eh?\" said he. And looked down at his leg.\n\nAfter darkly looking at his leg and me several times, he came closer\nto my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as far as he\ncould hold me; so that his eyes looked most powerfully down into mine,", "was not a good-looking woman, my sister; and I had a general\nimpression that she must have made Joe Gargery marry her by hand. Joe\nwas a fair man, with curls of flaxen hair on each side of his smooth\nface, and with eyes of such a very undecided blue that they seemed\nto have somehow got mixed with their own whites. He was a mild,\ngood-natured, sweet-tempered, easy-going, foolish, dear fellow,--a sort\nof Hercules in strength, and also in weakness.\n\nMy sister", "forefinger of his right.\n\n\"From information I have received,\" said he, looking round at us as we\nall quailed before him, \"I have reason to believe there is a blacksmith\namong you, by name Joseph--or Joe--Gargery. Which is the man?\"\n\n\"Here is the man,\" said Joe.\n\nThe strange gentleman beckoned him out of his place, and Joe went.\n\n\"You have an apprentice,\" pursued the stranger, \"commonly known as Pip?\nIs he here?\"\n\n\"I am here!\"", "\n\n\"They are very slight, poor thing. She had been in one of her bad\nstates--though they had got better of late, rather than worse--for four\ndays, when she came out of it in the evening, just at tea-time, and said\nquite plainly, 'Joe.' As she had never said any word for a long while, I\nran and fetched in Mr. Gargery from the forge. She made signs to me that\nshe wanted him to sit down close to her, and wanted me to put her arms\nround his neck. So I put", "\nup to him. And then he took us home and hammered us. Which, you see,\nPip,\" said Joe, pausing in his meditative raking of the fire, and\nlooking at me, \"were a drawback on my learning.\"\n\n\"Certainly, poor Joe!\"\n\n\"Though mind you, Pip,\" said Joe, with a judicial touch or two of the\npoker on the top bar, \"rendering unto all their doo, and maintaining\nequal justice betwixt man and man, my father were that good in his hart,", "t here for harm, young master, I suppose?\"\n\nI was not so sure of that. I had leisure to entertain the retort in my\nmind, while he slowly lifted his heavy glance from the pavement, up my\nlegs and arms, to my face.\n\n\"Then you have left the forge?\" I said.\n\n\"Do this look like a forge?\" replied Orlick, sending his glance all\nround him with an air of injury. \"Now, do it look like it?\"\n\nI asked him how long he had left Gargery's forge", "I have\nseen that man.\"\n\n\"I swear I don't see him here,\" said I.\n\n\"Say that likewise,\" retorted Pumblechook. \"Say you said that, and even\nJoseph will probably betray surprise.\"\n\n\"There you quite mistake him,\" said I. \"I know better.\"\n\n\"Says you,\" Pumblechook went on, \"'Joseph, I have seen that man, and\nthat man bears you no malice and bears me no malice. He knows your\ncharacter, Joseph, and is well acquainted with", "at the keyhole. Finally he gave a\nfaint single rap, and Pepper--such was the compromising name of the\navenging boy--announced \"Mr. Gargery!\" I thought he never would have\ndone wiping his feet, and that I must have gone out to lift him off the\nmat, but at last he came in.\n\n\"Joe, how are you, Joe?\"\n\n\"Pip, how AIR you, Pip?\"\n\nWith his good honest face all glowing and shining, and his hat put\ndown on the floor between us,", "again, and ran home without stopping.\n\n\n\n\nChapter II\n\nMy sister, Mrs. Joe Gargery, was more than twenty years older than I,\nand had established a great reputation with herself and the neighbors\nbecause she had brought me up \"by hand.\" Having at that time to find out\nfor myself what the expression meant, and knowing her to have a hard and\nheavy hand, and to be much in the habit of laying it upon her husband as\nwell as upon me, I supposed that Joe Gargery and I were both brought up\nby hand.\n\nShe", "been violently\nentered when Joe Gargery was out. Supposed by convicts. Somebody has\nbeen attacked and hurt.\"\n\nWe were running too fast to admit of more being said, and we made no\nstop until we got into our kitchen. It was full of people; the whole\nvillage was there, or in the yard; and there was a surgeon, and there\nwas Joe, and there were a group of women, all on the floor in the midst\nof the kitchen. The unemployed bystanders drew back when they saw me,\nand so I became", "oe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman. I have\noften thought him since, like the steam-hammer that can crush a man or\npat an egg-shell, in his combination of strength with gentleness. \"Pip\nis that hearty welcome,\" said Joe, \"to go free with his services, to\nhonor and fortun', as no words can tell him. But if you think as Money\ncan make compensation to me for the loss of the little child--what come\nto the forge--and ever the best of friends!--\"\n\nO dear", "go and do it.\"\nSo he went.\n\nAfter Mr. Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister was washing up,\nI stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had done for\nthe night. Then I said, \"Before the fire goes out, Joe, I should like to\ntell you something.\"\n\n\"Should you, Pip?\" said Joe, drawing his shoeing-stool near the forge.\n\"Then tell us. What is it, Pip?\"\n\n\"Joe,\" said I, taking hold of his rolled", ".\"\n\nFinding that he could not see us very well from where he sat, he got\nup, and threw one leg over the back of a chair and leaned upon it; thus\nhaving one foot on the seat of the chair, and one foot on the ground.\n\n\"Now, Joseph Gargery, I am the bearer of an offer to relieve you of\nthis young fellow your apprentice. You would not object to cancel his\nindentures at his request and for his good? You would want nothing for\nso doing?\"\n\n\"Lord forbid that I should want", "\n\n\"Why, yes, Sir,\" said Joe, \"me and Wopsle went off straight to look at\nthe Blacking Ware'us. But we didn't find that it come up to its likeness\nin the red bills at the shop doors; which I meantersay,\" added Joe, in\nan explanatory manner, \"as it is there drawd too architectooralooral.\"\n\nI really believe Joe would have prolonged this word (mightily expressive\nto my mind of some architecture that I know) into a perfect Chorus, but\nfor his attention being", ", and quite broke. She weren't long of following,\npoor soul, and her share of peace come round at last.\"\n\nJoe's blue eyes turned a little watery; he rubbed first one of them, and\nthen the other, in a most uncongenial and uncomfortable manner, with the\nround knob on the top of the poker.\n\n\"It were but lonesome then,\" said Joe, \"living here alone, and I got\nacquainted with your sister. Now, Pip,\"--Joe looked firmly at me as\nif he knew I" ], [ "\n\n\"I communicated to Magwitch--in New South Wales--when he first wrote to\nme--from New South Wales--the caution that he must not expect me ever to\ndeviate from the strict line of fact. I also communicated to him another\ncaution. He appeared to me to have obscurely hinted in his letter at\nsome distant idea he had of seeing you in England here. I cautioned\nhim that I must hear no more of that; that he was not at all likely to\nobtain a pardon; that he was expatriated for the term of", "little:--\n\n\"You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t'other side the world, I\nwas always a looking to this side; and it come flat to be there, for\nall I was a growing rich. Everybody knowed Magwitch, and Magwitch could\ncome, and Magwitch could go, and nobody's head would be troubled about\nhim. They ain't so easy concerning me here, dear boy,--wouldn't be,\nleastwise, if they knowed where I was.\"\n\n\"If all", "his natural\nlife; and that his presenting himself in this country would be an act of\nfelony, rendering him liable to the extreme penalty of the law. I gave\nMagwitch that caution,\" said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at me; \"I wrote\nit to New South Wales. He guided himself by it, no doubt.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said I.\n\n\"I have been informed by Wemmick,\" pursued Mr. Jaggers, still looking\nhard at me, \"that he has received a letter, under date Portsmouth, from\na", "house until the tide turned, and then Magwitch\nwas carried down to the galley and put on board. Herbert and Startop\nwere to get to London by land, as soon as they could. We had a doleful\nparting, and when I took my place by Magwitch's side, I felt that that\nwas my place henceforth while he lived.\n\nFor now, my repugnance to him had all melted away; and in the hunted,\nwounded, shackled creature who held my hand in his, I only saw a man\n", "s lost his\nnevvy! Let him 'ware them, when no man can't find a rag of his dear\nrelation's clothes, nor yet a bone of his body. There's them that can't\nand that won't have Magwitch,--yes, I know the name!--alive in the same\nland with them, and that's had such sure information of him when he\nwas alive in another land, as that he couldn't and shouldn't leave it\nunbeknown and put them in danger. P'raps it's them that writes", "make out, after a few minutes, which steamer was first,\nand gave me the word \"Hamburg,\" in a low voice, as we sat face to face.\nShe was nearing us very fast, and the beating of her peddles grew louder\nand louder. I felt as if her shadow were absolutely upon us, when the\ngalley hailed us. I answered.\n\n\"You have a returned Transport there,\" said the man who held the lines.\n\"That's the man, wrapped in the cloak. His name is Abel Magwitch,\nother", "bearing towards us on the tide. No man spoke, but the steersman held up\nhis hand, and all softly backed water, and kept the boat straight and\ntrue before it. As it came nearer, I saw it to be Magwitch, swimming,\nbut not swimming freely. He was taken on board, and instantly manacled\nat the wrists and ankles.\n\nThe galley was kept steady, and the silent, eager look-out at the water\nwas resumed. But, the Rotterdam steamer now came up, and apparently not\nunderstanding what", "colonist of the name of Purvis, or--\"\n\n\"Or Provis,\" I suggested.\n\n\"Or Provis--thank you, Pip. Perhaps it is Provis? Perhaps you know it's\nProvis?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said I.\n\n\"You know it's Provis. A letter, under date Portsmouth, from a colonist\nof the name of Provis, asking for the particulars of your address, on\nbehalf of Magwitch. Wemmick sent him the particulars, I understand, by\nreturn of post", ", informed, Mr. Jaggers.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"I have been informed by a person named Abel Magwitch, that he is the\nbenefactor so long unknown to me.\"\n\n\"That is the man,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"in New South Wales.\"\n\n\"And only he?\" said I.\n\n\"And only he,\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"I am not so unreasonable, sir, as to think you at all responsible for\nmy mistakes and wrong conclusions; but I always supposed it was Miss\nHav", "house in New South Wales, where a sum of money was, and the\ndesignation of certain lands of considerable value. Both these heads of\ninformation were in a list that Magwitch, while in prison, gave to Mr.\nJaggers, of the possessions he supposed I should inherit. His ignorance,\npoor fellow, at last served him; he never mistrusted but that my\ninheritance was quite safe, with Mr. Jaggers's aid.\n\nAfter three days' delay, during which the crown prosecution stood over\nfor the production of the witness from the prison-", ". Probably it is through Provis that you have received the\nexplanation of Magwitch--in New South Wales?\"\n\n\"It came through Provis,\" I replied.\n\n\"Good day, Pip,\" said Mr. Jaggers, offering his hand; \"glad to have\nseen you. In writing by post to Magwitch--in New South Wales--or in\ncommunicating with him through Provis, have the goodness to mention that\nthe particulars and vouchers of our long account shall be sent to you,\ntogether with the balance; for there is still", "that my heart should never\nbe sickened with the hopeless task of attempting to establish one.\n\nThere appeared to be reason for supposing that the drowned informer\nhad hoped for a reward out of this forfeiture, and had obtained some\naccurate knowledge of Magwitch's affairs. When his body was found, many\nmiles from the scene of his death, and so horribly disfigured that he\nwas only recognizable by the contents of his pockets, notes were still\nlegible, folded in a case he carried. Among these were the name of a\nbanking-", "no more to say,\" said I, with a sigh, after standing silent for\na little while. \"I have verified my information, and there's an end.\"\n\n\"And Magwitch--in New South Wales--having at last disclosed himself,\"\nsaid Mr. Jaggers, \"you will comprehend, Pip, how rigidly throughout\nmy communication with you, I have always adhered to the strict line of\nfact. There has never been the least departure from the strict line of\nfact. You are quite aware of that?\"\n\n\"Quite, sir.\"", "I've no more\nnotion where I was born than you have--if so much. I first become aware\nof myself down in Essex, a thieving turnips for my living. Summun had\nrun away from me--a man--a tinker--and he'd took the fire with him, and\nleft me wery cold.\n\n\"I know'd my name to be Magwitch, chrisen'd Abel. How did I know\nit? Much as I know'd the birds' names in the hedges to be chaffinch,\n", "hand on his cloak to identify him,\nthat villain had staggered up and staggered back, and they had both gone\noverboard together, when the sudden wrenching of him (Magwitch) out of\nour boat, and the endeavor of his captor to keep him in it, had capsized\nus. He told me in a whisper that they had gone down fiercely locked in\neach other's arms, and that there had been a struggle under water, and\nthat he had disengaged himself, struck out, and swum away.\n\nI never had any", "any Bay; and years have rolled away, and who's to gain by it? Still,\nlook'ee here, Pip. If the danger had been fifty times as great, I should\nha' come to see you, mind you, just the same.\"\n\n\"And how long do you remain?\"\n\n\"How long?\" said he, taking his black pipe from his mouth, and dropping\nhis jaw as he stared at me. \"I'm not a going back. I've come for good.\"\n\n\"Where are you to live?\" said I. \"What is to be done", "ately at me.\n\n\"Dear Magwitch, I must tell you now, at last. You understand what I\nsay?\"\n\nA gentle pressure on my hand.\n\n\"You had a child once, whom you loved and lost.\"\n\nA stronger pressure on my hand.\n\n\"She lived, and found powerful friends. She is living now. She is a lady\nand very beautiful. And I love her!\"\n\nWith a last faint effort, which would have been powerless but for my\nyielding to it and assisting it, he raised my hand to his lips.", "at the foot of the bed,\nawful mad. And over where her heart's broke--you broke it!--there's\ndrops of blood.'\n\n\"Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. 'Go up alonger this\ndrivelling sick man,' he says to his wife, 'and Magwitch, lend her a\nhand, will you?' But he never come nigh himself.\n\n\"Compeyson's wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he raved most\ndreadful. 'Why", "marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond\nwas the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was\nrushing was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid\nof it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.\n\n\"Hold your noise!\" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from\namong the graves at the side of the church porch. \"Keep still, you\nlittle devil, or I'll cut your throat!\"\n\nA fearful man, all in coarse gray, with a great iron on", "what name to call you. I have given out that you are my\nuncle.\"\n\n\"That's it, dear boy! Call me uncle.\"\n\n\"You assumed some name, I suppose, on board ship?\"\n\n\"Yes, dear boy. I took the name of Provis.\"\n\n\"Do you mean to keep that name?\"\n\n\"Why, yes, dear boy, it's as good as another,--unless you'd like\nanother.\"\n\n\"What is your real name?\" I asked him in a whisper.\n\n\"Magwitch,\" he" ], [ "told.\n\nOf a sudden, he stopped, took the cork out of his bottle, and tossed\nit away. Light as it was, I heard it fall like a plummet. He swallowed\nslowly, tilting up the bottle by little and little, and now he looked at\nme no more. The last few drops of liquor he poured into the palm of his\nhand, and licked up. Then, with a sudden hurry of violence and swearing\nhorribly, he threw the bottle from him, and stooped; and I saw in his\nhand a stone-ham", "ending\nyour way of life. If you have come here to thank me, it was not\nnecessary. Still, however you have found me out, there must be something\ngood in the feeling that has brought you here, and I will not repulse\nyou; but surely you must understand that--I--\"\n\nMy attention was so attracted by the singularity of his fixed look at\nme, that the words died away on my tongue.\n\n\"You was a saying,\" he observed, when we had confronted one another\nin silence, \"that surely I must understand. What, surely must I\n", "No objection.\"\n\nI thanked him and ran home again, and there I found that Joe had already\nlocked the front door and vacated the state parlor, and was seated\nby the kitchen fire with a hand on each knee, gazing intently at the\nburning coals. I too sat down before the fire and gazed at the coals,\nand nothing was said for a long time.\n\nMy sister was in her cushioned chair in her corner, and Biddy sat at her\nneedle-work before the fire, and Joe sat next Biddy, and I", "once and go to his room and surprise him;\nfor, it was the first day I had been up early. I went to his room, and\nhe was not there. Not only was he not there, but his box was gone.\n\nI hurried then to the breakfast-table, and on it found a letter. These\nwere its brief contents:--\n\n\"Not wishful to intrude I have departured fur you are well again dear\nPip and will do better without JO.\n\n\"P.S. Ever the best of friends.\"\n\nEnclosed in the letter was a rece", "You are not afraid of a woman who has\nnever seen the sun since you were born?\"\n\nI regret to state that I was not afraid of telling the enormous lie\ncomprehended in the answer \"No.\"\n\n\"Do you know what I touch here?\" she said, laying her hands, one upon\nthe other, on her left side.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\" (It made me think of the young man.)\n\n\"What do I touch?\"\n\n\"Your heart.\"\n\n\"Broken!\"\n\nShe uttered the word with an eager look, and with", "escape of a\nfatigued mind, I dozed for some moments or forgot; then I would say to\nmyself with a start, \"Now it has come, and I am turning delirious!\"\n\nThey kept me very quiet all day, and kept my arm constantly dressed, and\ngave me cooling drinks. Whenever I fell asleep, I awoke with the notion\nI had had in the sluice-house, that a long time had elapsed and the\nopportunity to save him was gone. About midnight I got out of bed\nand went to Herbert, with the", ", Joe wrapped me up,\ntook me in his arms, carried me down to it, and put me in, as if I were\nstill the small helpless creature to whom he had so abundantly given of\nthe wealth of his great nature.\n\nAnd Joe got in beside me, and we drove away together into the country,\nwhere the rich summer growth was already on the trees and on the grass,\nand sweet summer scents filled all the air. The day happened to be\nSunday, and when I looked on the loveliness around me, and thought\nhow it had grown and", "While he was gone, I sat down\non my usual stool and looked vacantly at my sister, feeling pretty sure\nthat the man would not be there.\n\nPresently, Joe came back, saying that the man was gone, but that he,\nJoe, had left word at the Three Jolly Bargemen concerning the notes.\nThen my sister sealed them up in a piece of paper, and put them under\nsome dried rose-leaves in an ornamental teapot on the top of a press in\nthe state parlor. There they remained, a nightmare to me, many", "\nI looked at both of them, from one to the other, and then--\n\n\"It's my wedding-day!\" cried Biddy, in a burst of happiness, \"and I am\nmarried to Joe!\"\n\nThey had taken me into the kitchen, and I had laid my head down on\nthe old deal table. Biddy held one of my hands to her lips, and Joe's\nrestoring touch was on my shoulder. \"Which he warn't strong enough, my\ndear, fur to be surprised,\" said Joe. And Biddy said, \"I", "if it had no more feeling in it than the file. I\nwas very much afraid of him again, now that he had worked himself into\nthis fierce hurry, and I was likewise very much afraid of keeping away\nfrom home any longer. I told him I must go, but he took no notice, so\nI thought the best thing I could do was to slip off. The last I saw\nof him, his head was bent over his knee and he was working hard at his\nfetter, muttering impatient imprecations at it and at his leg. The last\nI heard of him,", "and\nthat is his reward. Of course, as an honest man, you will expect no\nother and no more.\"\n\nHow Joe got out of the room, I have never been able to determine; but\nI know that when he did get out he was steadily proceeding upstairs\ninstead of coming down, and was deaf to all remonstrances until I went\nafter him and laid hold of him. In another minute we were outside the\ngate, and it was locked, and Estella was gone. When we stood in the\ndaylight alone again, Joe backed up against a wall,", "other. At last, I desperately\nconsidered that the thing I contemplated must be done, and that it\nhad best be done in the least improbable manner consistent with the\ncircumstances. I took advantage of a moment when Joe had just looked at\nme, and got my bread and butter down my leg.\n\nJoe was evidently made uncomfortable by what he supposed to be my loss\nof appetite, and took a thoughtful bite out of his slice, which he\ndidn't seem to enjoy. He turned it about in his mouth much longer than\nusual, ponder", "I have done well since, and you must let me pay\nthem back. You can put them to some other poor boy's use.\" I took out my\npurse.\n\nHe watched me as I laid my purse upon the table and opened it, and he\nwatched me as I separated two one-pound notes from its contents. They\nwere clean and new, and I spread them out and handed them over to\nhim. Still watching me, he laid them one upon the other, folded them\nlong-wise, gave them a twist, set fire to them at the lamp, and", "After\nbreakfast, Joe brought out my indentures from the press in the best\nparlor, and we put them in the fire, and I felt that I was free. With\nall the novelty of my emancipation on me, I went to church with Joe, and\nthought perhaps the clergyman wouldn't have read that about the rich man\nand the kingdom of Heaven, if he had known all.\n\nAfter our early dinner, I strolled out alone, purposing to finish off\nthe marshes at once, and get them done with. As I passed the church,", "again, and put both his hands upon it.\n\nThe allotted time ran out, while we were thus; but, looking round, I\nfound the governor of the prison standing near me, and he whispered,\n\"You needn't go yet.\" I thanked him gratefully, and asked, \"Might I\nspeak to him, if he can hear me?\"\n\nThe governor stepped aside, and beckoned the officer away. The change,\nthough it was made without noise, drew back the film from the placid\nlook at the white ceiling, and he looked most affection", "I felt inclined to take him in my arms (as the\nrobber in the story-book is said to have taken the old lady) and seat\nhim on the fire.\n\nOne thing was manifest to both of us, and that was, that until relief\ncame, neither of us could relinquish the fire. There we stood, well\nsquared up before it, shoulder to shoulder and foot to foot, with our\nhands behind us, not budging an inch. The horse was visible outside in\nthe drizzle at the door, my breakfast was put on the table,", "them round his neck, and she laid her head down\non his shoulder quite content and satisfied. And so she presently said\n'Joe' again, and once 'Pardon,' and once 'Pip.' And so she never lifted\nher head up any more, and it was just an hour later when we laid it down\non her own bed, because we found she was gone.\"\n\nBiddy cried; the darkening garden, and the lane, and the stars that were\ncoming out, were blurred in my own sight.\n\n\"Nothing was ever discovered, Biddy?\"\n", "I felt sure that I was as well\nas in the morning?\n\n\"Yes, dear Joe, quite.\"\n\n\"And are always a getting stronger, old chap?\"\n\n\"Yes, dear Joe, steadily.\"\n\nJoe patted the coverlet on my shoulder with his great good hand, and\nsaid, in what I thought a husky voice, \"Good night!\"\n\nWhen I got up in the morning, refreshed and stronger yet, I was full of\nmy resolution to tell Joe all, without delay. I would tell him before\nbreakfast. I would dress at", "Then,\nhe gently let it sink upon his breast again, with his own hands lying on\nit. The placid look at the white ceiling came back, and passed away, and\nhis head dropped quietly on his breast.\n\nMindful, then, of what we had read together, I thought of the two men\nwho went up into the Temple to pray, and I knew there were no better\nwords that I could say beside his bed, than \"O Lord, be merciful to him\na sinner!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LVII\n\nNow that I was left wh", "take your stations when you come to feast upon me.\nAnd now go!\"\n\nAt the mention of each name, she had struck the table with her stick in\na new place. She now said, \"Walk me, walk me!\" and we went on again.\n\n\"I suppose there's nothing to be done,\" exclaimed Camilla, \"but comply\nand depart. It's something to have seen the object of one's love and\nduty for even so short a time. I shall think of it with a melancholy\nsatisfaction when I wake up in the night" ], [ "almost always accompanied them to and from such\nplaces.\n\n\"Are you tired, Estella?\"\n\n\"Rather, Pip.\"\n\n\"You should be.\"\n\n\"Say rather, I should not be; for I have my letter to Satis House to\nwrite, before I go to sleep.\"\n\n\"Recounting to-night's triumph?\" said I. \"Surely a very poor one,\nEstella.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? I didn't know there had been any.\"\n\n\"Estella,\" said I, \"do look at", "been incompatible with the\nadmission of that remembrance, I have given it a place in my heart.\"\n\n\"You have always held your place in my heart,\" I answered.\n\nAnd we were silent again until she spoke.\n\n\"I little thought,\" said Estella, \"that I should take leave of you in\ntaking leave of this spot. I am very glad to do so.\"\n\n\"Glad to part again, Estella? To me, parting is a painful thing. To me,\nthe remembrance of our last parting has been ever mournful", "was past, she looked down at\nthe fire again.\n\n\"I cannot think,\" said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence \"why\nyou should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation.\nI have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been\nunfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness\nthat I can charge myself with.\"\n\n\"Would it be weakness to return my love?\" exclaimed Miss Havisham. \"But\nyes, yes, she would call it so!\"\n\n\"I begin", "Estella, to the last hour of my life, you\ncannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good\nin me, part of the evil. But, in this separation, I associate you only\nwith the good; and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you\nmust have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp\ndistress I may. O God bless you, God forgive you!\"\n\nIn what ecstasy of unhappiness I got these broken words out of myself, I\ndon't know. The rhapsody", "I got away from him, without knowing how I did it, and mended the fire\nin the room where we had been together, and sat down by it, afraid to go\nto bed. For an hour or more, I remained too stunned to think; and it\nwas not until I began to think, that I began fully to know how wrecked I\nwas, and how the ship in which I had sailed was gone to pieces.\n\nMiss Havisham's intentions towards me, all a mere dream; Estella not\ndesigned for me; I only suffered in Satis House as", "by, Biddy,--all gone\nby!\"\n\nNevertheless, I knew, while I said those words, that I secretly intended\nto revisit the site of the old house that evening, alone, for her sake.\nYes, even so. For Estella's sake.\n\nI had heard of her as leading a most unhappy life, and as being\nseparated from her husband, who had used her with great cruelty, and who\nhad become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, brutality,\nand meanness. And I had heard of", "for me, and I am willing enough to change it. Say no\nmore. We shall never understand each other.\"\n\n\"Such a mean brute, such a stupid brute!\" I urged, in despair.\n\n\"Don't be afraid of my being a blessing to him,\" said Estella; \"I shall\nnot be that. Come! Here is my hand. Do we part on this, you visionary\nboy--or man?\"\n\n\"O Estella!\" I answered, as my bitter tears fell fast on her hand, do\nwhat I would to restrain them; \"even if", "I had first beheld her, and it is needless to add that\nthere was no change in Satis House.\n\nShe was even more dreadfully fond of Estella than she had been when\nI last saw them together; I repeat the word advisedly, for there was\nsomething positively dreadful in the energy of her looks and embraces.\nShe hung upon Estella's beauty, hung upon her words, hung upon her\ngestures, and sat mumbling her own trembling fingers while she looked at\nher, as though she were devouring the beautiful creature she had reared.", "\"and from myself far be it!\" These words had\nsuch a round and convincing sound for him that he said them twice.\n\n\"Good-bye, Pip!\" said Miss Havisham. \"Let them out, Estella.\"\n\n\"Am I to come again, Miss Havisham?\" I asked.\n\n\"No. Gargery is your master now. Gargery! One word!\"\n\nThus calling him back as I went out of the door, I heard her say to Joe\nin a distinct emphatic voice, \"The boy has been a good boy here,", "proper; you\nare to be mentioned to the family; indeed you are already mentioned.\"\n\nI inquired was it a large household she was going to be a member of?\n\n\"No; there are only two; mother and daughter. The mother is a lady of\nsome station, though not averse to increasing her income.\"\n\n\"I wonder Miss Havisham could part with you again so soon.\"\n\n\"It is a part of Miss Havisham's plans for me, Pip,\" said Estella, with\na sigh, as if she were tired; \"I am to", "\"Were you wondering, as you walked along, how it came to be left in this\ncondition?\"\n\n\"Yes, Estella.\"\n\n\"The ground belongs to me. It is the only possession I have not\nrelinquished. Everything else has gone from me, little by little, but I\nhave kept this. It was the subject of the only determined resistance I\nmade in all the wretched years.\"\n\n\"Is it to be built on?\"\n\n\"At last, it is. I came here to take leave of it before its change. And\nyou,\" she said", "to yourself, Pip,\" returned Joe, strengthening\nhis former mixture of argumentation, confidence, and politeness, \"that\nit were the wish of your own hart.\" (I saw the idea suddenly break upon\nhim that he would adapt his epitaph to the occasion, before he went on\nto say) \"And there weren't no objection on your part, and Pip it were\nthe great wish of your hart!\"\n\nIt was quite in vain for me to endeavor to make him sensible that he\nought to speak to Miss Havisham. The more I made faces", "the pressure on my hand when I had spoken the last words he had heard on\nearth.\n\nEstella was the next to break the silence that ensued between us.\n\n\"I have very often hoped and intended to come back, but have been\nprevented by many circumstances. Poor, poor old place!\"\n\nThe silvery mist was touched with the first rays of the moonlight, and\nthe same rays touched the tears that dropped from her eyes. Not knowing\nthat I saw them, and setting herself to get the better of them, she said\nquietly,--\n\n", "and\nthat is his reward. Of course, as an honest man, you will expect no\nother and no more.\"\n\nHow Joe got out of the room, I have never been able to determine; but\nI know that when he did get out he was steadily proceeding upstairs\ninstead of coming down, and was deaf to all remonstrances until I went\nafter him and laid hold of him. In another minute we were outside the\ngate, and it was locked, and Estella was gone. When we stood in the\ndaylight alone again, Joe backed up against a wall,", "ell that Estella had gone into the country. Where? To Satis House, as\nusual. Not as usual, I said, for she had never yet gone there without\nme; when was she coming back? There was an air of reservation in the\nanswer which increased my perplexity, and the answer was, that her maid\nbelieved she was only coming back at all for a little while. I could\nmake nothing of this, except that it was meant that I should make\nnothing of it, and I went home again in complete discomfiture.\n\nAnother night", "tone and in all her many tones, and would seem to pity me.\n\n\"Pip, Pip,\" she said one evening, coming to such a check, when we sat\napart at a darkening window of the house in Richmond; \"will you never\ntake warning?\"\n\n\"Of what?\"\n\n\"Of me.\"\n\n\"Warning not to be attracted by you, do you mean, Estella?\"\n\n\"Do I mean! If you don't know what I mean, you are blind.\"\n\nI should have replied that Love was commonly reputed blind, but for", "I remained in England and could\nhold my head up with the rest, how could I see you Drummle's wife?\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" she returned,--\"nonsense. This will pass in no time.\"\n\n\"Never, Estella!\"\n\n\"You will get me out of your thoughts in a week.\"\n\n\"Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You\nhave been in every line I have ever read since I first came here, the\nrough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been\nin every", "one chapter to Estella. It is not\nmuch to give to the theme that so long filled my heart.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XXXVIII\n\nIf that staid old house near the Green at Richmond should ever come to\nbe haunted when I am dead, it will be haunted, surely, by my ghost. O\nthe many, many nights and days through which the unquiet spirit within\nme haunted that house when Estella lived there! Let my body be where it\nwould, my spirit was always wandering, wandering, wandering, about that\nhouse", "forgotten,\" retorted Estella,--\"not forgotten, but treasured up\nin my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have\nyou found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving\nadmission here,\" she touched her bosom with her hand, \"to anything that\nyou excluded? Be just to me.\"\n\n\"So proud, so proud!\" moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her gray hair\nwith both her hands.\n\n\"Who taught me to be proud?\" returned Estella. \"Who praised me when I\nlearnt", "having looked forward to it, for a long,\nlong time.\n\n\"Do you find her much changed, Pip?\" asked Miss Havisham, with her\ngreedy look, and striking her stick upon a chair that stood between\nthem, as a sign to me to sit down there.\n\n\"When I came in, Miss Havisham, I thought there was nothing of Estella\nin the face or figure; but now it all settles down so curiously into the\nold--\"\n\n\"What? You are not going to say into the old Estella?\" Miss Hav" ], [ "Pip's comrade, that\nthat man got me into such nets as made me his black slave. I was always\nin debt to him, always under his thumb, always a working, always a\ngetting into danger. He was younger than me, but he'd got craft, and\nhe'd got learning, and he overmatched me five hundred times told and\nno mercy. My Missis as I had the hard time wi'--Stop though! I ain't\nbrought her in--\"\n\nHe looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost", "mick to give him that piece of paper. Wemmick appeared, handed it in,\nand disappeared.\n\n\"Now, Mr. Pip,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"attend, if you please. You have been\ndrawing pretty freely here; your name occurs pretty often in Wemmick's\ncash-book; but you are in debt, of course?\"\n\n\"I am afraid I must say yes, sir.\"\n\n\"You know you must say yes; don't you?\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"", "of their being imprisoned, whipped, transported,\nneglected, cast out, qualified in all ways for the hangman, and growing\nup to be hanged. Put the case that pretty nigh all the children he saw\nin his daily business life he had reason to look upon as so much\nspawn, to develop into the fish that were to come to his net,--to be\nprosecuted, defended, forsworn, made orphans, bedevilled somehow.\"\n\n\"I follow you, sir.\"\n\n\"Put the case, Pip, that here was", "; \"and it's no more than your\nmerits (as I said when my opinion was asked), and I wish you joy of the\nmoney!\"\n\nIf the villain had stopped here, his case would have been sufficiently\nawful, but he blackened his guilt by proceeding to take me into custody,\nwith a right of patronage that left all his former criminality far\nbehind.\n\n\"Now you see, Joseph and wife,\" said Pumblechook, as he took me by the\narm above the elbow, \"I am one of them that always go right through", "\nthat person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which\nto encumber such a rise in fortune; but if you have any objection to it,\nthis is the time to mention it. Speak out.\"\n\nOnce more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations.\"\nThough he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still\ncould not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion; and even", "ipt for the debt and costs on which I\nhad been arrested. Down to that moment, I had vainly supposed that my\ncreditor had withdrawn, or suspended proceedings until I should be quite\nrecovered. I had never dreamed of Joe's having paid the money; but Joe\nhad paid it, and the receipt was in his name.\n\nWhat remained for me now, but to follow him to the dear old forge, and\nthere to have out my disclosure to him, and my penitent remonstrance\nwith him, and there to relieve my mind and heart", "ee\nhere, Pip. Look over it. I ain't a going to be low.\"\n\n\"First,\" I resumed, half groaning, \"what precautions can be taken\nagainst your being recognized and seized?\"\n\n\"No, dear boy,\" he said, in the same tone as before, \"that don't\ngo first. Lowness goes first. I ain't took so many year to make a\ngentleman, not without knowing what's due to him. Look'ee here, Pip. I\nwas low; that's what I", "swore it was Death.\"\n\n\"And so I swear it is Death,\" said he, putting his pipe back in his\nmouth, \"and Death by the rope, in the open street not fur from this, and\nit's serious that you should fully understand it to be so. What then,\nwhen that's once done? Here I am. To go back now 'ud be as bad as to\nstand ground--worse. Besides, Pip, I'm here, because I've meant it by\nyou, years and years. As to what I dare, I'm a", "a still more tremendous one; \"you like that, don't you? If\nyou're not tired, Mr. Pip--though I know it's tiring to strangers--will\nyou tip him one more? You can't think how it pleases him.\"\n\nI tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him\nbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch in\nthe arbor; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it had taken\nhim a good many years", "on 'em giv\nme tracts what I couldn't read, and made me speeches what I couldn't\nunderstand. They always went on agen me about the Devil. But what\nthe Devil was I to do? I must put something into my stomach, mustn't\nI?--Howsomever, I'm a getting low, and I know what's due. Dear boy and\nPip's comrade, don't you be afeerd of me being low.\n\n\"Tramping, begging, thieving, working", "er\nthe failings on his part, he were a corn and seedsman in his hart.\"\n\n\"Is it Pumblechook's house that has been broken into, then?\"\n\n\"That's it, Pip,\" said Joe; \"and they took his till, and they took his\ncash-box, and they drinked his wine, and they partook of his wittles,\nand they slapped his face, and they pulled his nose, and they tied him\nup to his bedpust, and they giv' him a dozen, and they stuffed his\n", "; and it was from\nthe talk of some of his people in trouble (some of his people being\nalways in trouble) that I heard what I did. I kept my ears open, seeming\nto have them shut, until I heard that he was absent, and I thought that\nwould be the best time for making the attempt. I can only suppose now,\nthat it was a part of his policy, as a very clever man, habitually to\ndeceive his own instruments. You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am\nsure I tried to serve you,", "to make a\nbeginning. Now I want somehow to help him to a beginning.\"\n\n\"With money down?\" said Wemmick, in a tone drier than any sawdust.\n\n\"With some money down,\" I replied, for an uneasy remembrance shot across\nme of that symmetrical bundle of papers at home--\"with some money down,\nand perhaps some anticipation of my expectations.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pip,\" said Wemmick, \"I should like just to run over with you on my\nfingers, if you please, the names of", "again,\nstuck his pipe in a button-hole of his coat, spread a hand on each knee,\nand after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few silent moments,\nlooked round at us and said what follows.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII\n\n\"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a going fur to tell you my life\nlike a song, or a story-book. But to give it you short and handy, I'll\nput it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and out of jail, in", "debt,--very heavily for me, who have now no expectations,--and I have\nbeen bred to no calling, and I am fit for nothing.\"\n\n\"Well, well, well!\" Herbert remonstrated. \"Don't say fit for nothing.\"\n\n\"What am I fit for? I know only one thing that I am fit for, and that\nis, to go for a soldier. And I might have gone, my dear Herbert, but for\nthe prospect of taking counsel with your friendship and affection.\"\n\nOf course I broke down there: and of course Herbert, beyond", "\n\nThe Justices were sitting in the Town Hall near at hand, and we at\nonce went over to have me bound apprentice to Joe in the Magisterial\npresence. I say we went over, but I was pushed over by Pumblechook,\nexactly as if I had that moment picked a pocket or fired a rick; indeed,\nit was the general impression in Court that I had been taken red-handed;\nfor, as Pumblechook shoved me before him through the crowd, I heard some\npeople say, \"What's he done?\" and others,", "answered, No.\n\n\"Well!\" he said, \"I was, and got convicted. As to took up on suspicion,\nthat was twice or three times in the four or five year that it lasted;\nbut evidence was wanting. At last, me and Compeyson was both committed\nfor felony,--on a charge of putting stolen notes in circulation,--and\nthere was other charges behind. Compeyson says to me, 'Separate\ndefences, no communication,' and that was all. And I was so miserable\npoor, that I sold all the clothes I had", "\ndisordering them all, and it was through the vapor at last that I saw\ntwo men looking at me.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I asked, starting; \"I don't know you.\"\n\n\"Well, sir,\" returned one of them, bending down and touching me on the\nshoulder, \"this is a matter that you'll soon arrange, I dare say, but\nyou're arrested.\"\n\n\"What is the debt?\"\n\n\"Hundred and twenty-three pound, fifteen, six. Jeweller's account, I\nthink.\"\n", "peyson was a having pity on nothing and\nnobody.\n\n\"I might a took warning by Arthur, but I didn't; and I won't pretend I\nwas partick'ler--for where 'ud be the good on it, dear boy and comrade?\nSo I begun wi' Compeyson, and a poor tool I was in his hands. Arthur\nlived at the top of Compeyson's house (over nigh Brentford it was), and\nCompeyson kept a careful account agen him for board and lodging, in", ", \"because the man\nwho fills the post of trust never is the right sort of man.\" It seemed\nquite to put him into spirits to find that this particular post was\nnot exceptionally held by the right sort of man, and he listened in a\nsatisfied manner while I told him what knowledge I had of Orlick. \"Very\ngood, Pip,\" he observed, when I had concluded, \"I'll go round presently,\nand pay our friend off.\" Rather alarmed by this summary action, I was\nfor a little delay, and even hinted that our friend himself" ], [ "\ncome back to the country where he was proscribed. Being here presently\ndenounced, he had for a time succeeded in evading the officers of\nJustice, but being at length seized while in the act of flight, he had\nresisted them, and had--he best knew whether by express design, or in\nthe blindness of his hardihood--caused the death of his denouncer, to\nwhom his whole career was known. The appointed punishment for his return\nto the land that had cast him out, being Death, and his case being this\naggravated case,", "\n\n\"I communicated to Magwitch--in New South Wales--when he first wrote to\nme--from New South Wales--the caution that he must not expect me ever to\ndeviate from the strict line of fact. I also communicated to him another\ncaution. He appeared to me to have obscurely hinted in his letter at\nsome distant idea he had of seeing you in England here. I cautioned\nhim that I must hear no more of that; that he was not at all likely to\nobtain a pardon; that he was expatriated for the term of", "\"He won't come back to-morrow; will he?\"\n\n\"No,\" said I, answering almost mechanically, in spite of my utmost\nefforts; \"not to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Because, look'ee here, dear boy,\" he said, dropping his voice, and\nlaying a long finger on my breast in an impressive manner, \"caution is\nnecessary.\"\n\n\"How do you mean? Caution?\"\n\n\"By G----, it's Death!\"\n\n\"What's death?\"\n\n\"I was sent for life", "his natural\nlife; and that his presenting himself in this country would be an act of\nfelony, rendering him liable to the extreme penalty of the law. I gave\nMagwitch that caution,\" said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at me; \"I wrote\nit to New South Wales. He guided himself by it, no doubt.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said I.\n\n\"I have been informed by Wemmick,\" pursued Mr. Jaggers, still looking\nhard at me, \"that he has received a letter, under date Portsmouth, from\na", "s lost his\nnevvy! Let him 'ware them, when no man can't find a rag of his dear\nrelation's clothes, nor yet a bone of his body. There's them that can't\nand that won't have Magwitch,--yes, I know the name!--alive in the same\nland with them, and that's had such sure information of him when he\nwas alive in another land, as that he couldn't and shouldn't leave it\nunbeknown and put them in danger. P'raps it's them that writes", "(this was while my mind was so\nbusy), he even at last began to doubt whether I was there, when suddenly\nI cried out loudly, and he answered the cries, and rushed in, closely\nfollowed by the other two.\n\nWhen I told Herbert what had passed within the house, he was for our\nimmediately going before a magistrate in the town, late at night as it\nwas, and getting out a warrant. But, I had already considered that such\na course, by detaining us there, or binding us to come back, might\nbe fatal to Pro", "questionably best that he should die. That there were, still living,\npeople enough who were able and willing to identify him, I could not\ndoubt. That he would be leniently treated, I could not hope. He who had\nbeen presented in the worst light at his trial, who had since broken\nprison and had been tried again, who had returned from transportation\nunder a life sentence, and who had occasioned the death of the man who\nwas the cause of his arrest.\n\nAs we returned towards the setting sun we had yesterday left behind us,\nand as the stream of our", "had happened, came on at speed. By the time she had\nbeen hailed and stopped, both steamers were drifting away from us, and\nwe were rising and falling in a troubled wake of water. The look-out was\nkept, long after all was still again and the two steamers were gone; but\neverybody knew that it was hopeless now.\n\nAt length we gave it up, and pulled under the shore towards the tavern\nwe had lately left, where we were received with no little surprise. Here\nI was able to get some comforts for Magw", "little:--\n\n\"You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t'other side the world, I\nwas always a looking to this side; and it come flat to be there, for\nall I was a growing rich. Everybody knowed Magwitch, and Magwitch could\ncome, and Magwitch could go, and nobody's head would be troubled about\nhim. They ain't so easy concerning me here, dear boy,--wouldn't be,\nleastwise, if they knowed where I was.\"\n\n\"If all", "that my heart should never\nbe sickened with the hopeless task of attempting to establish one.\n\nThere appeared to be reason for supposing that the drowned informer\nhad hoped for a reward out of this forfeiture, and had obtained some\naccurate knowledge of Magwitch's affairs. When his body was found, many\nmiles from the scene of his death, and so horribly disfigured that he\nwas only recognizable by the contents of his pockets, notes were still\nlegible, folded in a case he carried. Among these were the name of a\nbanking-", "examination,--I don't know which,--and was striking her, and\nthe bench, and everybody present, with awe. If anybody, of whatsoever\ndegree, said a word that he didn't approve of, he instantly required to\nhave it \"taken down.\" If anybody wouldn't make an admission, he said,\n\"I'll have it out of you!\" and if anybody made an admission, he said,\n\"Now I have got you!\" The magistrates shivered under a single bite of\nhis finger. Thieves and thief-t", "next day, and would have been\nimmediately committed for trial, but that it was necessary to send down\nfor an old officer of the prison-ship from which he had once escaped, to\nspeak to his identity. Nobody doubted it; but Compeyson, who had meant\nto depose to it, was tumbling on the tides, dead, and it happened that\nthere was not at that time any prison officer in London who could give\nthe required evidence. I had gone direct to Mr. Jaggers at his private\nhouse, on my arrival over night, to retain his", "way.\n\n\"Ay!\" returned the sergeant, \"two. They're pretty well known to be out\non the marshes still, and they won't try to get clear of 'em before\ndusk. Anybody here seen anything of any such game?\"\n\nEverybody, myself excepted, said no, with confidence. Nobody thought of\nme.\n\n\"Well!\" said the sergeant, \"they'll find themselves trapped in a circle,\nI expect, sooner than they count on. Now, blacksmith! If you're ready,\nhis Majesty", "\n\"Handel,\" said Herbert, stopping, \"you feel convinced that you can take\nno further benefits from him; do you?\"\n\n\"Fully. Surely you would, too, if you were in my place?\"\n\n\"And you feel convinced that you must break with him?\"\n\n\"Herbert, can you ask me?\"\n\n\"And you have, and are bound to have, that tenderness for the life he\nhas risked on your account, that you must save him, if possible, from\nthrowing it away. Then you must get him out of England before you stir", "and recalled the pale young gentleman on\nhis back in various stages of puffy and incrimsoned countenance, the\nmore certain it appeared that something would be done to me. I felt that\nthe pale young gentleman's blood was on my head, and that the Law would\navenge it. Without having any definite idea of the penalties I had\nincurred, it was clear to me that village boys could not go stalking\nabout the country, ravaging the houses of gentlefolks and pitching into\nthe studious youth of England, without laying themselves open to severe\np", "my convict, disdainfully. \"Try, and not\ndo it? I took him, and giv' him up; that's what I done. I not only\nprevented him getting off the marshes, but I dragged him here,--dragged\nhim this far on his way back. He's a gentleman, if you please, this\nvillain. Now, the Hulks has got its gentleman again, through me. Murder\nhim? Worth my while, too, to murder him, when I could do worse and drag\nhim back!\"\n\nThe other", ",\" said Herbert, \"is to get him\nout of England. You will have to go with him, and then he may be induced\nto go.\"\n\n\"But get him where I will, could I prevent his coming back?\"\n\n\"My good Handel, is it not obvious that with Newgate in the next street,\nthere must be far greater hazard in your breaking your mind to him and\nmaking him reckless, here, than elsewhere? If a pretext to get him away\ncould be made out of that other convict, or out of anything else in his\nlife, now.\"", "hand on his cloak to identify him,\nthat villain had staggered up and staggered back, and they had both gone\noverboard together, when the sudden wrenching of him (Magwitch) out of\nour boat, and the endeavor of his captor to keep him in it, had capsized\nus. He told me in a whisper that they had gone down fiercely locked in\neach other's arms, and that there had been a struggle under water, and\nthat he had disengaged himself, struck out, and swum away.\n\nI never had any", "distinctly as his\nputting himself in the way of being taken.\"\n\n\"Then you may rely upon it,\" said Herbert, \"that there would be great\ndanger of his doing it. That is his power over you as long as he remains\nin England, and that would be his reckless course if you forsook him.\"\n\nI was so struck by the horror of this idea, which had weighed upon\nme from the first, and the working out of which would make me regard\nmyself, in some sort, as his murderer, that I could not rest in my\nchair", "house until the tide turned, and then Magwitch\nwas carried down to the galley and put on board. Herbert and Startop\nwere to get to London by land, as soon as they could. We had a doleful\nparting, and when I took my place by Magwitch's side, I felt that that\nwas my place henceforth while he lived.\n\nFor now, my repugnance to him had all melted away; and in the hunted,\nwounded, shackled creature who held my hand in his, I only saw a man\n" ], [ "her from behind, as I come upon you\nto-night. I giv' it her! I left her for dead, and if there had been a\nlimekiln as nigh her as there is now nigh you, she shouldn't have come\nto life again. But it warn't Old Orlick as did it; it was you. You was\nfavored, and he was bullied and beat. Old Orlick bullied and beat, eh?\nNow you pays for it. You done it; now you pays for it.\"\n\nHe drank again, and became more", "could have killed him, even in dying, I\nwould have done it.\n\nHe had been drinking, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. Around his\nneck was slung a tin bottle, as I had often seen his meat and drink\nslung about him in other days. He brought the bottle to his lips, and\ntook a fiery drink from it; and I smelt the strong spirits that I saw\nflash into his face.\n\n\"Wolf!\" said he, folding his arms again, \"Old Orlick's a going to tell\nyou somethink", "by his\ninitial letter), and ran into the forge, followed by Joe and me.\n\n\"Why, of course!\" cried Biddy, with an exultant face. \"Don't you see?\nIt's him!\"\n\nOrlick, without a doubt! She had lost his name, and could only signify\nhim by his hammer. We told him why we wanted him to come into the\nkitchen, and he slowly laid down his hammer, wiped his brow with his\narm, took another wipe at it with his apron, and came slouching\nout,", ", \"because the man\nwho fills the post of trust never is the right sort of man.\" It seemed\nquite to put him into spirits to find that this particular post was\nnot exceptionally held by the right sort of man, and he listened in a\nsatisfied manner while I told him what knowledge I had of Orlick. \"Very\ngood, Pip,\" he observed, when I had concluded, \"I'll go round presently,\nand pay our friend off.\" Rather alarmed by this summary action, I was\nfor a little delay, and even hinted that our friend himself", "What did that fellow Orlick say to me, Pip? What did he call me,\nwith my husband standing by? Oh! oh! oh!\" Each of these exclamations was\na shriek; and I must remark of my sister, what is equally true of all\nthe violent women I have ever seen, that passion was no excuse for\nher, because it is undeniable that instead of lapsing into passion, she\nconsciously and deliberately took extraordinary pains to force herself\ninto it, and became blindly furious by regular stages; \"what was the\nname he gave me", "t here for harm, young master, I suppose?\"\n\nI was not so sure of that. I had leisure to entertain the retort in my\nmind, while he slowly lifted his heavy glance from the pavement, up my\nlegs and arms, to my face.\n\n\"Then you have left the forge?\" I said.\n\n\"Do this look like a forge?\" replied Orlick, sending his glance all\nround him with an air of injury. \"Now, do it look like it?\"\n\nI asked him how long he had left Gargery's forge", "a going to favor only one of us. If Young\nPip has a half-holiday, do as much for Old Orlick.\" I suppose he was\nabout five-and-twenty, but he usually spoke of himself as an ancient\nperson.\n\n\"Why, what'll you do with a half-holiday, if you get it?\" said Joe.\n\n\"What'll I do with it! What'll he do with it? I'll do as much with it as\nhim,\" said Orlick.\n\n\"As to Pip, he's going up town", ",\" said Biddy. \"Though that makes no difference to you.\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" said I; \"but I must tell you I should have no opinion of you,\nBiddy, if he danced at you with your own consent.\"\n\nI kept an eye on Orlick after that night, and, whenever circumstances\nwere favorable to his dancing at Biddy, got before him to obscure that\ndemonstration. He had struck root in Joe's establishment, by reason\nof my sister's sudden fancy for him, or I should have tried to get him", ", to waste wages in\nthat way. I wish I was his master!\"\n\n\"You'd be everybody's master, if you durst,\" retorted Orlick, with an\nill-favored grin.\n\n(\"Let her alone,\" said Joe.)\n\n\"I'd be a match for all noodles and all rogues,\" returned my sister,\nbeginning to work herself into a mighty rage. \"And I couldn't be a\nmatch for the noodles, without being a match for your master, who's the\ndunder-headed king", "I believed one of two other persons to have\nbecome possessed of it, and to have turned it to this cruel account.\nEither Orlick, or the strange man who had shown me the file.\n\nNow, as to Orlick; he had gone to town exactly as he told us when we\npicked him up at the turnpike, he had been seen about town all the\nevening, he had been in divers companies in several public-houses, and\nhe had come back with myself and Mr. Wopsle. There was nothing against\nhim, save the quarrel; and", "always in Old Orlick's way since ever you was a child. You goes\nout of his way this present night. He'll have no more on you. You're\ndead.\"\n\nI felt that I had come to the brink of my grave. For a moment I looked\nwildly round my trap for any chance of escape; but there was none.\n\n\"More than that,\" said he, folding his arms on the table again, \"I won't\nhave a rag of you, I won't have a bone of you, left on earth. I'll", "that. But Biddy said she was, and she said it\ndecisively. In my heart I believed her to be right; and yet I took it\nrather ill, too, that she should be so positive on the point.\n\nWhen we came near the churchyard, we had to cross an embankment, and\nget over a stile near a sluice-gate. There started up, from the gate, or\nfrom the rushes, or from the ooze (which was quite in his stagnant way),\nOld Orlick.\n\n\"Halloa", "\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Do you know what is become of Orlick?\"\n\n\"I should think from the color of his clothes that he is working in the\nquarries.\"\n\n\"Of course you have seen him then?--Why are you looking at that dark\ntree in the lane?\"\n\n\"I saw him there, on the night she died.\"\n\n\"That was not the last time either, Biddy?\"\n\n\"No; I have seen him there, since we have been walking here.--It is of\nno use,\" said Biddy, laying her hand", "iving me! That Orlick! In my own house! Me, a married woman! With my\nhusband standing by! Oh! Oh!\" Here my sister, after a fit of clappings\nand screamings, beat her hands upon her bosom and upon her knees, and\nthrew her cap off, and pulled her hair down,--which were the last stages\non her road to frenzy. Being by this time a perfect Fury and a complete\nsuccess, she made a dash at the door which I had fortunately locked.\n\nWhat could the wretched Joe do now, after his", "at me, whenever he can catch my eye.\"\n\nHowever novel and peculiar this testimony of attachment, I did not\ndoubt the accuracy of the interpretation. I was very hot indeed upon\nOld Orlick's daring to admire her; as hot as if it were an outrage on\nmyself.\n\n\"But it makes no difference to you, you know,\" said Biddy, calmly.\n\n\"No, Biddy, it makes no difference to me; only I don't like it; I don't\napprove of it.\"\n\n\"Nor I neither", "\n\"Don't you mind talking, Pip,\" said he, after again drawing his sleeve\nover his eyes and forehead, as the click came in his throat which I well\nremembered,--and he was all the more horrible to me that he was so much\nin earnest; \"you can't do better nor keep quiet, dear boy. You ain't\nlooked slowly forward to this as I have; you wosn't prepared for this as\nI wos. But didn't you never think it might be me?\"\n\n\"O no, no, no,\"", "not you! But when Old Orlick come for\nto hear that your uncle Provis had most like wore the leg-iron wot Old\nOrlick had picked up, filed asunder, on these meshes ever so many year\nago, and wot he kep by him till he dropped your sister with it, like\na bullock, as he means to drop you--hey?--when he come for to hear\nthat--hey?\"\n\nIn his savage taunting, he flared the candle so close at me that I\nturned my face aside to save it from the flame", "am?\"\n\n\"I don't say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl's hard and\nhaughty and capricious to the last degree, and has been brought up by\nMiss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex.\"\n\n\"What relation is she to Miss Havisham?\"\n\n\"None,\" said he. \"Only adopted.\"\n\n\"Why should she wreak revenge on all the male sex? What revenge?\"\n\n\"Lord, Mr. Pip!\" said he. \"Don't you know?\"\n\n\"No", "seen such passionate eagerness as was joined to her\nutterance of these words. I could feel the muscles of the thin arm round\nmy neck swell with the vehemence that possessed her.\n\n\"Hear me, Pip! I adopted her, to be loved. I bred her and educated her,\nto be loved. I developed her into what she is, that she might be loved.\nLove her!\"\n\nShe said the word often enough, and there could be no doubt that she\nmeant to say it; but if the often repeated word had been hate instead of\nlove", "alloa!\" we said, stopping. \"Orlick there?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" he answered, slouching out. \"I was standing by a minute, on the\nchance of company.\"\n\n\"You are late,\" I remarked.\n\nOrlick not unnaturally answered, \"Well? And you're late.\"\n\n\"We have been,\" said Mr. Wopsle, exalted with his late performance,--\"we\nhave been indulging, Mr. Orlick, in an intellectual evening.\"\n\nOld Orlick growled, as if he had nothing to say" ], [ "at the foot of the bed,\nawful mad. And over where her heart's broke--you broke it!--there's\ndrops of blood.'\n\n\"Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. 'Go up alonger this\ndrivelling sick man,' he says to his wife, 'and Magwitch, lend her a\nhand, will you?' But he never come nigh himself.\n\n\"Compeyson's wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he raved most\ndreadful. 'Why", "\n\nHe regarded me with a look of affection that made him almost abhorrent\nto me again, though I had felt great pity for him.\n\n\"By my boy, I was giv to understand as Compeyson was out on them marshes\ntoo. Upon my soul, I half believe he escaped in his terror, to get quit\nof me, not knowing it was me as had got ashore. I hunted him down. I\nsmashed his face. 'And now,' says I 'as the worst thing I can do, caring\nnothing for myself, I'll drag you", "property.\"\n\n\"Yes, to be sure,\" said Wemmick. \"Of course, there can be no objection\nto your being sorry for him, and I'd put down a five-pound note myself\nto get him out of it. But what I look at is this. The late Compeyson\nhaving been beforehand with him in intelligence of his return, and being\nso determined to bring him to book, I do not think he could have been\nsaved. Whereas, the portable property certainly could have been saved.\nThat's the difference between the property and", "next day, and would have been\nimmediately committed for trial, but that it was necessary to send down\nfor an old officer of the prison-ship from which he had once escaped, to\nspeak to his identity. Nobody doubted it; but Compeyson, who had meant\nto depose to it, was tumbling on the tides, dead, and it happened that\nthere was not at that time any prison officer in London who could give\nthe required evidence. I had gone direct to Mr. Jaggers at his private\nhouse, on my arrival over night, to retain his", "--\"\n\n\"A moment, my dear boy, and I have done. That evil genius, Compeyson,\nthe worst of scoundrels among many scoundrels, knowing of his keeping\nout of the way at that time and of his reasons for doing so, of course\nafterwards held the knowledge over his head as a means of keeping him\npoorer and working him harder. It was clear last night that this barbed\nthe point of Provis's animosity.\"\n\n\"I want to know,\" said I, \"and particularly, Herbert, whether he told\nyou", "s lifting me up. Keep me down!' Then he lifted\nhimself up hard, and was dead.\n\n\"Compeyson took it easy as a good riddance for both sides. Him and\nme was soon busy, and first he swore me (being ever artful) on my own\nbook,--this here little black book, dear boy, what I swore your comrade\non.\n\n\"Not to go into the things that Compeyson planned, and I done--which 'ud\ntake a week--I'll simply say to you, dear boy, and", "I'll smash that face of yourn!'\nain't it Compeyson as prays the Judge to be protected, and gets two\nturnkeys stood betwixt us? And when we're sentenced, ain't it him as\ngets seven year, and me fourteen, and ain't it him as the Judge is\nsorry for, because he might a done so well, and ain't it me as the Judge\nperceives to be a old offender of wiolent passion, likely to come to\nworse?\"\n\nHe had worked himself into a", ".\"\n\nHe wiped himself again, as he had done before, and then slowly took\nhis tangle of tobacco from his pocket, and plucked his pipe from his\nbutton-hole, and slowly filled it, and began to smoke.\n\n\"Is he dead?\" I asked, after a silence.\n\n\"Is who dead, dear boy?\"\n\n\"Compeyson.\"\n\n\"He hopes I am, if he's alive, you may be sure,\" with a fierce look. \"I\nnever heerd no more of him.\"\n\nHerbert had been writing with his pencil", "be helped, nor I extenuated.\n\nA new fear had been engendered in my mind by his narrative; or rather,\nhis narrative had given form and purpose to the fear that was already\nthere. If Compeyson were alive and should discover his return, I could\nhardly doubt the consequence. That Compeyson stood in mortal fear of\nhim, neither of the two could know much better than I; and that any\nsuch man as that man had been described to be would hesitate to release\nhimself for good from a dreaded enemy by the safe means of becoming", "fifty\nhands, and that's not like sneaking you as writes but one. 'Ware\nCompeyson, Magwitch, and the gallows!\"\n\nHe flared the candle at me again, smoking my face and hair, and for an\ninstant blinding me, and turned his powerful back as he replaced the\nlight on the table. I had thought a prayer, and had been with Joe and\nBiddy and Herbert, before he turned towards me again.\n\nThere was a clear space of a few feet between the table and the opposite\nwall. Within this space", "hand on his cloak to identify him,\nthat villain had staggered up and staggered back, and they had both gone\noverboard together, when the sudden wrenching of him (Magwitch) out of\nour boat, and the endeavor of his captor to keep him in it, had capsized\nus. He told me in a whisper that they had gone down fiercely locked in\neach other's arms, and that there had been a struggle under water, and\nthat he had disengaged himself, struck out, and swum away.\n\nI never had any", "; one, the elder, ill brought up, who will be spoke to as such;\none, the younger, seldom if ever seen in these here transactions, and\nonly suspected; t'other, the elder, always seen in 'em and always wi' his\nguilt brought home. Can you doubt, if there is but one in it, which is\nthe one, and, if there is two in it, which is much the worst one?' And\nsuch-like. And when it come to character, warn't it Compeyson as had\nbeen to the school, and", "that I would like to ask\nhim a question, subject to his answering or not answering, as he\ndeemed right, and sure that his course would be right. He paused in his\nbreakfast, and crossing his arms, and pinching his shirt-sleeves (his\nnotion of in-door comfort was to sit without any coat), he nodded to me\nonce, to put my question.\n\n\"You have heard of a man of bad character, whose true name is\nCompeyson?\"\n\nHe answered with one other nod.\n\n\"Is he living?\"\n\nOne", "her from behind, as I come upon you\nto-night. I giv' it her! I left her for dead, and if there had been a\nlimekiln as nigh her as there is now nigh you, she shouldn't have come\nto life again. But it warn't Old Orlick as did it; it was you. You was\nfavored, and he was bullied and beat. Old Orlick bullied and beat, eh?\nNow you pays for it. You done it; now you pays for it.\"\n\nHe drank again, and became more", "that my heart should never\nbe sickened with the hopeless task of attempting to establish one.\n\nThere appeared to be reason for supposing that the drowned informer\nhad hoped for a reward out of this forfeiture, and had obtained some\naccurate knowledge of Magwitch's affairs. When his body was found, many\nmiles from the scene of his death, and so horribly disfigured that he\nwas only recognizable by the contents of his pockets, notes were still\nlegible, folded in a case he carried. Among these were the name of a\nbanking-", "when this happened?\"\n\n\"Particularly? Let me remember, then, what he said as to that. His\nexpression was, 'a round score o' year ago, and a'most directly after I\ntook up wi' Compeyson.' How old were you when you came upon him in the\nlittle churchyard?\"\n\n\"I think in my seventh year.\"\n\n\"Ay. It had happened some three or four years then, he said, and you\nbrought into his mind the little girl so tragically lost, who would have\nbeen about your age", "could have killed him, even in dying, I\nwould have done it.\n\nHe had been drinking, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. Around his\nneck was slung a tin bottle, as I had often seen his meat and drink\nslung about him in other days. He brought the bottle to his lips, and\ntook a fiery drink from it; and I smelt the strong spirits that I saw\nflash into his face.\n\n\"Wolf!\" said he, folding his arms again, \"Old Orlick's a going to tell\nyou somethink", "little:--\n\n\"You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t'other side the world, I\nwas always a looking to this side; and it come flat to be there, for\nall I was a growing rich. Everybody knowed Magwitch, and Magwitch could\ncome, and Magwitch could go, and nobody's head would be troubled about\nhim. They ain't so easy concerning me here, dear boy,--wouldn't be,\nleastwise, if they knowed where I was.\"\n\n\"If all", "peyson was a having pity on nothing and\nnobody.\n\n\"I might a took warning by Arthur, but I didn't; and I won't pretend I\nwas partick'ler--for where 'ud be the good on it, dear boy and comrade?\nSo I begun wi' Compeyson, and a poor tool I was in his hands. Arthur\nlived at the top of Compeyson's house (over nigh Brentford it was), and\nCompeyson kept a careful account agen him for board and lodging, in", "his natural\nlife; and that his presenting himself in this country would be an act of\nfelony, rendering him liable to the extreme penalty of the law. I gave\nMagwitch that caution,\" said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at me; \"I wrote\nit to New South Wales. He guided himself by it, no doubt.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said I.\n\n\"I have been informed by Wemmick,\" pursued Mr. Jaggers, still looking\nhard at me, \"that he has received a letter, under date Portsmouth, from\na" ], [ "autiful, Estella! Surely it is not in Nature.\"\n\n\"It is in my nature,\" she returned. And then she added, with a stress\nupon the words, \"It is in the nature formed within me. I make a great\ndifference between you and all other people when I say so much. I can do\nno more.\"\n\n\"Is it not true,\" said I, \"that Bentley Drummle is in town here, and\npursuing you?\"\n\n\"It is quite true,\" she replied, referring to him with the indifference\nof utter cont", "ever she had favored; but\na worthier object would have caused me a different kind and degree of\ndistress.\n\nIt was easy for me to find out, and I did soon find out, that Drummle\nhad begun to follow her closely, and that she allowed him to do it. A\nlittle while, and he was always in pursuit of her, and he and I crossed\none another every day. He held on, in a dull persistent way, and Estella\nheld him on; now with encouragement, now with discouragement, now almost\nflattering him, now openly", "\nNow, if I could have believed that she favored Drummle with any idea of\nmaking me-me--wretched, I should have been in better heart about it;\nbut in that habitual way of hers, she put me so entirely out of the\nquestion, that I could believe nothing of the kind.\n\n\"Pip,\" said Estella, casting her glance over the room, \"don't be foolish\nabout its effect on you. It may have its effect on others, and may be\nmeant to have. It's not worth discussing.\"\n\n\"Yes it", "to order,\nforasmuch as Mr. Drummle had not yet toasted a lady; which, according\nto the solemn constitution of the society, it was the brute's turn to\ndo that day. I thought I saw him leer in an ugly way at me while the\ndecanters were going round, but as there was no love lost between us,\nthat might easily be. What was my indignant surprise when he called upon\nthe company to pledge him to \"Estella!\"\n\n\"Estella who?\" said I.\n\n\"Never you mind,\"", "hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle help it?\"\n\n\"No,\" I returned; \"but cannot the Estella help it?\"\n\n\"Well!\" said she, laughing, after a moment, \"perhaps. Yes. Anything you\nlike.\"\n\n\"But, Estella, do hear me speak. It makes me wretched that you should\nencourage a man so generally despised as Drummle. You know he is\ndespised.\"\n\n\"Well?\" said she.\n\n\"You know he is as ungainly within as without. A deficient,", "is,\" said I, \"because I cannot bear that people should say, 'she\nthrows away her graces and attractions on a mere boor, the lowest in the\ncrowd.'\"\n\n\"I can bear it,\" said Estella.\n\n\"Oh! don't be so proud, Estella, and so inflexible.\"\n\n\"Calls me proud and inflexible in this breath!\" said Estella, opening\nher hands. \"And in his last breath reproached me for stooping to a\nboor!\"\n\n\"There is no doubt you do,\"", "empt.\n\n\"That you encourage him, and ride out with him, and that he dines with\nyou this very day?\"\n\nShe seemed a little surprised that I should know it, but again replied,\n\"Quite true.\"\n\n\"You cannot love him, Estella!\"\n\nHer fingers stopped for the first time, as she retorted rather angrily,\n\"What have I told you? Do you still think, in spite of it, that I do not\nmean what I say?\"\n\n\"You would never marry him, Estella?\"\n\nShe looked towards Miss Hav", "\n\n\n\nChapter XXV\n\nBentley Drummle, who was so sulky a fellow that he even took up a book\nas if its writer had done him an injury, did not take up an\nacquaintance in a more agreeable spirit. Heavy in figure, movement,\nand comprehension,--in the sluggish complexion of his face, and in\nthe large, awkward tongue that seemed to loll about in his mouth as\nhe himself lolled about in a room,--he was idle, proud, niggardly,\nreserved, and", "Estella was set to wreak Miss Havisham's revenge on men, and that she\nwas not to be given to me until she had gratified it for a term. I saw\nin this, a reason for her being beforehand assigned to me. Sending her\nout to attract and torment and do mischief, Miss Havisham sent her with\nthe malicious assurance that she was beyond the reach of all admirers,\nand that all who staked upon that cast were secured to lose. I saw in\nthis that I, too, was tormented by a per", "of my remembrance. Nor,\ndid Miss Havisham's manner towards Estella in anywise change, except\nthat I believed it to have something like fear infused among its former\ncharacteristics.\n\nIt is impossible to turn this leaf of my life, without putting Bentley\nDrummle's name upon it; or I would, very gladly.\n\nOn a certain occasion when the Finches were assembled in force, and when\ngood feeling was being promoted in the usual manner by nobody's agreeing\nwith anybody else, the presiding Finch called the Grove", "Miss Havisham glanced from me to her, and from her to me.\n\n\"I should have said this sooner, but for my long mistake. It induced me\nto hope that Miss Havisham meant us for one another. While I thought you\ncould not help yourself, as it were, I refrained from saying it. But I\nmust say it now.\"\n\nPreserving her unmoved countenance, and with her fingers still going,\nEstella shook her head.\n\n\"I know,\" said I, in answer to that action,--\"I know. I have no hope", "of her plans for me.\n\nShe had adopted Estella, she had as good as adopted me, and it could not\nfail to be her intention to bring us together. She reserved it for me to\nrestore the desolate house, admit the sunshine into the dark rooms,\nset the clocks a-going and the cold hearths a-blazing, tear down the\ncobwebs, destroy the vermin,--in short, do all the shining deeds of the\nyoung Knight of romance, and marry the Princess. I had stopped to\nlook at the house as I", "I remained in England and could\nhold my head up with the rest, how could I see you Drummle's wife?\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" she returned,--\"nonsense. This will pass in no time.\"\n\n\"Never, Estella!\"\n\n\"You will get me out of your thoughts in a week.\"\n\n\"Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You\nhave been in every line I have ever read since I first came here, the\nrough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been\nin every", "better, for your sake!\"\n\nMy earnestness awoke a wonder in her that seemed as if it would have\nbeen touched with compassion, if she could have rendered me at all\nintelligible to her own mind.\n\n\"I am going,\" she said again, in a gentler voice, \"to be married to\nhim. The preparations for my marriage are making, and I shall be\nmarried soon. Why do you injuriously introduce the name of my mother by\nadoption? It is my own act.\"\n\n\"Your own act, Estella, to", "isham, and considered for a moment with her\nwork in her hands. Then she said, \"Why not tell you the truth? I am\ngoing to be married to him.\"\n\nI dropped my face into my hands, but was able to control myself better\nthan I could have expected, considering what agony it gave me to hear\nher say those words. When I raised my face again, there was such a\nghastly look upon Miss Havisham's, that it impressed me, even in my\npassionate hurry and grief.\n\n\"Estella, dearest Estella,", "had not taken him\ninto her confidence as to her designing me for Estella; that he resented\nthis, and felt a jealousy about it; or that he really did object to\nthat scheme, and would have nothing to do with it. When I raised my eyes\nagain, I found that he had been shrewdly looking at me all the time, and\nwas doing so still.\n\n\"If that is all you have to say, sir,\" I remarked, \"there can be nothing\nleft for me to say.\"\n\nHe nodded assent, and pulled out his thief-d", "retorted Drummle.\n\n\"Estella of where?\" said I. \"You are bound to say of where.\" Which he\nwas, as a Finch.\n\n\"Of Richmond, gentlemen,\" said Drummle, putting me out of the question,\n\"and a peerless beauty.\"\n\nMuch he knew about peerless beauties, a mean, miserable idiot! I\nwhispered Herbert.\n\n\"I know that lady,\" said Herbert, across the table, when the toast had\nbeen honored.\n\n\"Do you?\" said Drummle.\n", "I do know your story, and have known it ever since I first left\nthis neighborhood. It has inspired me with great commiseration, and I\nhope I understand it and its influences. Does what has passed between us\ngive me any excuse for asking you a question relative to Estella? Not as\nshe is, but as she was when she first came here?\"\n\nShe was seated on the ground, with her arms on the ragged chair, and\nher head leaning on them. She looked full at me when I said this, and\nreplied, \"Go on.\"\n\n\"Wh", "said I, something hurriedly, \"for I have\nseen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never\ngive to--me.\"\n\n\"Do you want me then,\" said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed and\nserious, if not angry, look, \"to deceive and entrap you?\"\n\n\"Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?\"\n\n\"Yes, and many others,--all of them but you. Here is Mrs. Brandley. I'll\nsay no more.\"\n\n* *\n\nAnd now that I", "all in all to me, Estella being in it. I thought that\nwith her I could have been happy there for life. (I was not at all happy\nthere at the time, observe, and I knew it well.)\n\n\"Where are you going to, at Richmond?\" I asked Estella.\n\n\"I am going to live,\" said she, \"at a great expense, with a lady there,\nwho has the power--or says she has--of taking me about, and introducing\nme, and showing people to me and showing me to people.\"\n\n\"I suppose you will be" ], [ "where it is,\" said Joe; \"she ain't living.\"\n\n\"Did she linger long, Joe?\"\n\n\"Arter you was took ill, pretty much about what you might call (if you\nwas put to it) a week,\" said Joe; still determined, on my account, to\ncome at everything by degrees.\n\n\"Dear Joe, have you heard what becomes of her property?\"\n\n\"Well, old chap,\" said Joe, \"it do appear that she had settled the most\nof it, which I meantersay tied it up, on Miss Estella. But", "ell that Estella had gone into the country. Where? To Satis House, as\nusual. Not as usual, I said, for she had never yet gone there without\nme; when was she coming back? There was an air of reservation in the\nanswer which increased my perplexity, and the answer was, that her maid\nbelieved she was only coming back at all for a little while. I could\nmake nothing of this, except that it was meant that I should make\nnothing of it, and I went home again in complete discomfiture.\n\nAnother night", "of her plans for me.\n\nShe had adopted Estella, she had as good as adopted me, and it could not\nfail to be her intention to bring us together. She reserved it for me to\nrestore the desolate house, admit the sunshine into the dark rooms,\nset the clocks a-going and the cold hearths a-blazing, tear down the\ncobwebs, destroy the vermin,--in short, do all the shining deeds of the\nyoung Knight of romance, and marry the Princess. I had stopped to\nlook at the house as I", "all in all to me, Estella being in it. I thought that\nwith her I could have been happy there for life. (I was not at all happy\nthere at the time, observe, and I knew it well.)\n\n\"Where are you going to, at Richmond?\" I asked Estella.\n\n\"I am going to live,\" said she, \"at a great expense, with a lady there,\nwho has the power--or says she has--of taking me about, and introducing\nme, and showing people to me and showing me to people.\"\n\n\"I suppose you will be", "I had first beheld her, and it is needless to add that\nthere was no change in Satis House.\n\nShe was even more dreadfully fond of Estella than she had been when\nI last saw them together; I repeat the word advisedly, for there was\nsomething positively dreadful in the energy of her looks and embraces.\nShe hung upon Estella's beauty, hung upon her words, hung upon her\ngestures, and sat mumbling her own trembling fingers while she looked at\nher, as though she were devouring the beautiful creature she had reared.", "by, Biddy,--all gone\nby!\"\n\nNevertheless, I knew, while I said those words, that I secretly intended\nto revisit the site of the old house that evening, alone, for her sake.\nYes, even so. For Estella's sake.\n\nI had heard of her as leading a most unhappy life, and as being\nseparated from her husband, who had used her with great cruelty, and who\nhad become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, brutality,\nand meanness. And I had heard of", "almost always accompanied them to and from such\nplaces.\n\n\"Are you tired, Estella?\"\n\n\"Rather, Pip.\"\n\n\"You should be.\"\n\n\"Say rather, I should not be; for I have my letter to Satis House to\nwrite, before I go to sleep.\"\n\n\"Recounting to-night's triumph?\" said I. \"Surely a very poor one,\nEstella.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? I didn't know there had been any.\"\n\n\"Estella,\" said I, \"do look at", "you, this time.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" said Estella, with a cold careless smile that always\nchilled me.\n\nAfter looking at the twilight without, for a little while, she went on\nto say:--\n\n\"The time has come round when Miss Havisham wishes to have me for a day\nat Satis. You are to take me there, and bring me back, if you will. She\nwould rather I did not travel alone, and objects to receiving my maid,\nfor she has a sensitive horror of being talked of by such people.", "I got away from him, without knowing how I did it, and mended the fire\nin the room where we had been together, and sat down by it, afraid to go\nto bed. For an hour or more, I remained too stunned to think; and it\nwas not until I began to think, that I began fully to know how wrecked I\nwas, and how the ship in which I had sailed was gone to pieces.\n\nMiss Havisham's intentions towards me, all a mere dream; Estella not\ndesigned for me; I only suffered in Satis House as", "proper; you\nare to be mentioned to the family; indeed you are already mentioned.\"\n\nI inquired was it a large household she was going to be a member of?\n\n\"No; there are only two; mother and daughter. The mother is a lady of\nsome station, though not averse to increasing her income.\"\n\n\"I wonder Miss Havisham could part with you again so soon.\"\n\n\"It is a part of Miss Havisham's plans for me, Pip,\" said Estella, with\na sigh, as if she were tired; \"I am to", "love, and save from my fate. I had first seen him when I sent\nfor him to lay this place waste for me; having read of him in the\nnewspapers, before I and the world parted. He told me that he would\nlook about him for such an orphan child. One night he brought her here\nasleep, and I called her Estella.\"\n\n\"Might I ask her age then?\"\n\n\"Two or three. She herself knows nothing, but that she was left an\norphan and I adopted her.\"\n\nSo convinced I was of that woman's", "I call you mad,\" returned Estella, \"I, of all people? Does\nany one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I\ndo? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half\nas well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool\nthat is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up\ninto your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!\"\n\n\"Soon forgotten!\" moaned Miss Havisham. \"Times soon forgotten!\"\n\n\"No, not", "\"Were you wondering, as you walked along, how it came to be left in this\ncondition?\"\n\n\"Yes, Estella.\"\n\n\"The ground belongs to me. It is the only possession I have not\nrelinquished. Everything else has gone from me, little by little, but I\nhave kept this. It was the subject of the only determined resistance I\nmade in all the wretched years.\"\n\n\"Is it to be built on?\"\n\n\"At last, it is. I came here to take leave of it before its change. And\nyou,\" she said", "then; come\non your birthday.--Ay!\" she cried suddenly, turning herself and her\nchair towards me, \"You are looking round for Estella? Hey?\"\n\nI had been looking round,--in fact, for Estella,--and I stammered that I\nhoped she was well.\n\n\"Abroad,\" said Miss Havisham; \"educating for a lady; far out of reach;\nprettier than ever; admired by all who see her. Do you feel that you\nhave lost her?\"\n\nThere was such a malignant enjoyment in", "I do know your story, and have known it ever since I first left\nthis neighborhood. It has inspired me with great commiseration, and I\nhope I understand it and its influences. Does what has passed between us\ngive me any excuse for asking you a question relative to Estella? Not as\nshe is, but as she was when she first came here?\"\n\nShe was seated on the ground, with her arms on the ragged chair, and\nher head leaning on them. She looked full at me when I said this, and\nreplied, \"Go on.\"\n\n\"Wh", "ose child was Estella?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"You don't know?\"\n\nShe shook her head again.\n\n\"But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?\"\n\n\"Brought her here.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me how that came about?\"\n\nShe answered in a low whisper and with caution: \"I had been shut up in\nthese rooms a long time (I don't know how long; you know what time the\nclocks keep here), when I told him that I wanted a little girl to rear\nand", "me?\"\n\n\"Only a little tired of myself,\" replied Estella, disengaging her arm,\nand moving to the great chimney-piece, where she stood looking down at\nthe fire.\n\n\"Speak the truth, you ingrate!\" cried Miss Havisham, passionately\nstriking her stick upon the floor; \"you are tired of me.\"\n\nEstella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down\nat the fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a\nself-possessed indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was", ", if she had reflected on the\ngravity of what she did. But I think she did not. I think that, in the\nendurance of her own trial, she forgot mine, Estella.\"\n\nI saw Miss Havisham put her hand to her heart and hold it there, as she\nsat looking by turns at Estella and at me.\n\n\"It seems,\" said Estella, very calmly, \"that there are sentiments,\nfancies,--I don't know how to call them,--which I am not able to\ncomprehend. When you say you", "was past, she looked down at\nthe fire again.\n\n\"I cannot think,\" said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence \"why\nyou should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation.\nI have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been\nunfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness\nthat I can charge myself with.\"\n\n\"Would it be weakness to return my love?\" exclaimed Miss Havisham. \"But\nyes, yes, she would call it so!\"\n\n\"I begin", "forgotten,\" retorted Estella,--\"not forgotten, but treasured up\nin my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have\nyou found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving\nadmission here,\" she touched her bosom with her hand, \"to anything that\nyou excluded? Be just to me.\"\n\n\"So proud, so proud!\" moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her gray hair\nwith both her hands.\n\n\"Who taught me to be proud?\" returned Estella. \"Who praised me when I\nlearnt" ], [ "his natural\nlife; and that his presenting himself in this country would be an act of\nfelony, rendering him liable to the extreme penalty of the law. I gave\nMagwitch that caution,\" said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at me; \"I wrote\nit to New South Wales. He guided himself by it, no doubt.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said I.\n\n\"I have been informed by Wemmick,\" pursued Mr. Jaggers, still looking\nhard at me, \"that he has received a letter, under date Portsmouth, from\na", "\n\n\"I communicated to Magwitch--in New South Wales--when he first wrote to\nme--from New South Wales--the caution that he must not expect me ever to\ndeviate from the strict line of fact. I also communicated to him another\ncaution. He appeared to me to have obscurely hinted in his letter at\nsome distant idea he had of seeing you in England here. I cautioned\nhim that I must hear no more of that; that he was not at all likely to\nobtain a pardon; that he was expatriated for the term of", "house until the tide turned, and then Magwitch\nwas carried down to the galley and put on board. Herbert and Startop\nwere to get to London by land, as soon as they could. We had a doleful\nparting, and when I took my place by Magwitch's side, I felt that that\nwas my place henceforth while he lived.\n\nFor now, my repugnance to him had all melted away; and in the hunted,\nwounded, shackled creature who held my hand in his, I only saw a man\n", "little:--\n\n\"You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t'other side the world, I\nwas always a looking to this side; and it come flat to be there, for\nall I was a growing rich. Everybody knowed Magwitch, and Magwitch could\ncome, and Magwitch could go, and nobody's head would be troubled about\nhim. They ain't so easy concerning me here, dear boy,--wouldn't be,\nleastwise, if they knowed where I was.\"\n\n\"If all", "house in New South Wales, where a sum of money was, and the\ndesignation of certain lands of considerable value. Both these heads of\ninformation were in a list that Magwitch, while in prison, gave to Mr.\nJaggers, of the possessions he supposed I should inherit. His ignorance,\npoor fellow, at last served him; he never mistrusted but that my\ninheritance was quite safe, with Mr. Jaggers's aid.\n\nAfter three days' delay, during which the crown prosecution stood over\nfor the production of the witness from the prison-", ". Probably it is through Provis that you have received the\nexplanation of Magwitch--in New South Wales?\"\n\n\"It came through Provis,\" I replied.\n\n\"Good day, Pip,\" said Mr. Jaggers, offering his hand; \"glad to have\nseen you. In writing by post to Magwitch--in New South Wales--or in\ncommunicating with him through Provis, have the goodness to mention that\nthe particulars and vouchers of our long account shall be sent to you,\ntogether with the balance; for there is still", "next day, and would have been\nimmediately committed for trial, but that it was necessary to send down\nfor an old officer of the prison-ship from which he had once escaped, to\nspeak to his identity. Nobody doubted it; but Compeyson, who had meant\nto depose to it, was tumbling on the tides, dead, and it happened that\nthere was not at that time any prison officer in London who could give\nthe required evidence. I had gone direct to Mr. Jaggers at his private\nhouse, on my arrival over night, to retain his", "s lost his\nnevvy! Let him 'ware them, when no man can't find a rag of his dear\nrelation's clothes, nor yet a bone of his body. There's them that can't\nand that won't have Magwitch,--yes, I know the name!--alive in the same\nland with them, and that's had such sure information of him when he\nwas alive in another land, as that he couldn't and shouldn't leave it\nunbeknown and put them in danger. P'raps it's them that writes", "swore it was Death.\"\n\n\"And so I swear it is Death,\" said he, putting his pipe back in his\nmouth, \"and Death by the rope, in the open street not fur from this, and\nit's serious that you should fully understand it to be so. What then,\nwhen that's once done? Here I am. To go back now 'ud be as bad as to\nstand ground--worse. Besides, Pip, I'm here, because I've meant it by\nyou, years and years. As to what I dare, I'm a", "that my heart should never\nbe sickened with the hopeless task of attempting to establish one.\n\nThere appeared to be reason for supposing that the drowned informer\nhad hoped for a reward out of this forfeiture, and had obtained some\naccurate knowledge of Magwitch's affairs. When his body was found, many\nmiles from the scene of his death, and so horribly disfigured that he\nwas only recognizable by the contents of his pockets, notes were still\nlegible, folded in a case he carried. Among these were the name of a\nbanking-", "no more to say,\" said I, with a sigh, after standing silent for\na little while. \"I have verified my information, and there's an end.\"\n\n\"And Magwitch--in New South Wales--having at last disclosed himself,\"\nsaid Mr. Jaggers, \"you will comprehend, Pip, how rigidly throughout\nmy communication with you, I have always adhered to the strict line of\nfact. There has never been the least departure from the strict line of\nfact. You are quite aware of that?\"\n\n\"Quite, sir.\"", "bearing towards us on the tide. No man spoke, but the steersman held up\nhis hand, and all softly backed water, and kept the boat straight and\ntrue before it. As it came nearer, I saw it to be Magwitch, swimming,\nbut not swimming freely. He was taken on board, and instantly manacled\nat the wrists and ankles.\n\nThe galley was kept steady, and the silent, eager look-out at the water\nwas resumed. But, the Rotterdam steamer now came up, and apparently not\nunderstanding what", "at the foot of the bed,\nawful mad. And over where her heart's broke--you broke it!--there's\ndrops of blood.'\n\n\"Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. 'Go up alonger this\ndrivelling sick man,' he says to his wife, 'and Magwitch, lend her a\nhand, will you?' But he never come nigh himself.\n\n\"Compeyson's wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he raved most\ndreadful. 'Why", "colonist of the name of Purvis, or--\"\n\n\"Or Provis,\" I suggested.\n\n\"Or Provis--thank you, Pip. Perhaps it is Provis? Perhaps you know it's\nProvis?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said I.\n\n\"You know it's Provis. A letter, under date Portsmouth, from a colonist\nof the name of Provis, asking for the particulars of your address, on\nbehalf of Magwitch. Wemmick sent him the particulars, I understand, by\nreturn of post", "back.' And I'd have swum off, towing\nhim by the hair, if it had come to that, and I'd a got him aboard\nwithout the soldiers.\n\n\"Of course he'd much the best of it to the last,--his character was so\ngood. He had escaped when he was made half wild by me and my murderous\nintentions; and his punishment was light. I was put in irons, brought\nto trial again, and sent for life. I didn't stop for life, dear boy and\nPip's comrade, being here", "fifty\nhands, and that's not like sneaking you as writes but one. 'Ware\nCompeyson, Magwitch, and the gallows!\"\n\nHe flared the candle at me again, smoking my face and hair, and for an\ninstant blinding me, and turned his powerful back as he replaced the\nlight on the table. I had thought a prayer, and had been with Joe and\nBiddy and Herbert, before he turned towards me again.\n\nThere was a clear space of a few feet between the table and the opposite\nwall. Within this space", "\"But he\nis accused of it. So might you or I be. Either of us might be accused of\nit, you know.\"\n\n\"Only neither of us is,\" I remarked.\n\n\"Yah!\" said Wemmick, touching me on the breast with his forefinger;\n\"you're a deep one, Mr. Pip! Would you like to have a look at Newgate?\nHave you time to spare?\"\n\nI had so much time to spare, that the proposal came as a relief,\nnotwithstanding its irreconcilability with my latent desire", ", informed, Mr. Jaggers.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"I have been informed by a person named Abel Magwitch, that he is the\nbenefactor so long unknown to me.\"\n\n\"That is the man,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"in New South Wales.\"\n\n\"And only he?\" said I.\n\n\"And only he,\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"I am not so unreasonable, sir, as to think you at all responsible for\nmy mistakes and wrong conclusions; but I always supposed it was Miss\nHav", "ately at me.\n\n\"Dear Magwitch, I must tell you now, at last. You understand what I\nsay?\"\n\nA gentle pressure on my hand.\n\n\"You had a child once, whom you loved and lost.\"\n\nA stronger pressure on my hand.\n\n\"She lived, and found powerful friends. She is living now. She is a lady\nand very beautiful. And I love her!\"\n\nWith a last faint effort, which would have been powerless but for my\nyielding to it and assisting it, he raised my hand to his lips.", "went\nfor you. 'Lord strike a blight upon it,' I says, wotever it was I went\nfor, 'if it ain't for him!' It all prospered wonderful. As I giv' you\nto understand just now, I'm famous for it. It was the money left me, and\nthe gains of the first few year wot I sent home to Mr. Jaggers--all for\nyou--when he first come arter you, agreeable to my letter.\"\n\nO that he had never come! That he had left me at the forge,--" ], [ "it was--and a dram of liquor,\nand a pie.\"\n\n\"Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?\" asked\nthe sergeant, confidentially.\n\n\"My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?\"\n\n\"So,\" said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and\nwithout the least glance at me,--\"so you're the blacksmith, are you?\nThan I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie.\"\n", "is\nwell with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you go home,--which is another\nreason for your not going home last night. But, after you have gone\nhome, don't go back here. You are very welcome, I am sure, Mr. Pip\"; his\nhands were now out of his sleeves, and I was shaking them; \"and let me\nfinally impress one important point upon you.\" He laid his hands upon\nmy shoulders, and added in a solemn whisper: \"Avail yourself of this\nevening to lay hold of his portable property. You", "A man can't\nstarve; at least I can't. I took some wittles, up at the willage over\nyonder,--where the church stands a'most out on the marshes.\"\n\n\"You mean stole,\" said the sergeant.\n\n\"And I'll tell you where from. From the blacksmith's.\"\n\n\"Halloa!\" said the sergeant, staring at Joe.\n\n\"Halloa, Pip!\" said Joe, staring at me.\n\n\"It was some broken wittles--that's what", "and a beautiful round compact pork\npie. I was nearly going away without the pie, but I was tempted to mount\nupon a shelf, to look what it was that was put away so carefully in a\ncovered earthenware dish in a corner, and I found it was the pie, and\nI took it in the hope that it was not intended for early use, and would\nnot be missed for some time.\n\nThere was a door in the kitchen, communicating with the forge; I\nunlocked and unbolted that door, and got a file from among Joe's", "go and do it.\"\nSo he went.\n\nAfter Mr. Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister was washing up,\nI stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had done for\nthe night. Then I said, \"Before the fire goes out, Joe, I should like to\ntell you something.\"\n\n\"Should you, Pip?\" said Joe, drawing his shoeing-stool near the forge.\n\"Then tell us. What is it, Pip?\"\n\n\"Joe,\" said I, taking hold of his rolled", "\n\nBut I must have lost it longer than I had thought, since, although\nI could recognize nothing in the darkness and the fitful lights and\nshadows of our lamps, I traced marsh country in the cold damp wind that\nblew at us. Cowering forward for warmth and to make me a screen against\nthe wind, the convicts were closer to me than before. The very first\nwords I heard them interchange as I became conscious, were the words of\nmy own thought, \"Two One Pound notes.\"\n\n\"How did he get 'em?\" said the conv", "\n\"God knows you're welcome to it,--so far as it was ever mine,\" returned\nJoe, with a saving remembrance of Mrs. Joe. \"We don't know what you have\ndone, but we wouldn't have you starved to death for it, poor miserable\nfellow-creatur.--Would us, Pip?\"\n\nThe something that I had noticed before, clicked in the man's throat\nagain, and he turned his back. The boat had returned, and his guard were\nready, so we followed him to the landing-place made of rough", "'t.\"\n\n\"And now, though I know you have already done it in your own kind\nhearts, pray tell me, both, that you forgive me! Pray let me hear you\nsay the words, that I may carry the sound of them away with me, and then\nI shall be able to believe that you can trust me, and think better of\nme, in the time to come!\"\n\n\"O dear old Pip, old chap,\" said Joe. \"God knows as I forgive you, if I\nhave anythink to forgive!\"\n\n\"Amen! And God knows I", "; and it was from\nthe talk of some of his people in trouble (some of his people being\nalways in trouble) that I heard what I did. I kept my ears open, seeming\nto have them shut, until I heard that he was absent, and I thought that\nwould be the best time for making the attempt. I can only suppose now,\nthat it was a part of his policy, as a very clever man, habitually to\ndeceive his own instruments. You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am\nsure I tried to serve you,", "\"Did you think of walking down to Walworth?\" said he.\n\n\"Certainly,\" said I, \"if you approve.\"\n\n\"Very much,\" was Wemmick's reply, \"for I have had my legs under the desk\nall day, and shall be glad to stretch them. Now, I'll tell you what I\nhave got for supper, Mr. Pip. I have got a stewed steak,--which is\nof home preparation,--and a cold roast fowl,--which is from the\ncook's-shop.", ". Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put my\nmouth into the forms of saying to Joe, \"What's a convict?\" Joe put his\nmouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate answer, that I\ncould make out nothing of it but the single word \"Pip.\"\n\n\"There was a conwict off last night,\" said Joe, aloud, \"after\nsunset-gun. And they fired warning of him. And now it appears they're\nfiring warning of another.\"\n\n\"Who's firing?\" said I.\n\n", "answered, No.\n\n\"Well!\" he said, \"I was, and got convicted. As to took up on suspicion,\nthat was twice or three times in the four or five year that it lasted;\nbut evidence was wanting. At last, me and Compeyson was both committed\nfor felony,--on a charge of putting stolen notes in circulation,--and\nthere was other charges behind. Compeyson says to me, 'Separate\ndefences, no communication,' and that was all. And I was so miserable\npoor, that I sold all the clothes I had", "again,\nstuck his pipe in a button-hole of his coat, spread a hand on each knee,\nand after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few silent moments,\nlooked round at us and said what follows.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII\n\n\"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a going fur to tell you my life\nlike a song, or a story-book. But to give it you short and handy, I'll\nput it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and out of jail, in", ", much relieved, \"then I shall look you up at\nWalworth, you may depend upon it.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pip,\" he returned, \"you will be welcome there, in a private and\npersonal capacity.\"\n\nWe had held this conversation in a low voice, well knowing my guardian's\nears to be the sharpest of the sharp. As he now appeared in his doorway,\ntowelling his hands, Wemmick got on his great-coat and stood by to snuff\nout the candles. We all three went into the street together, and from", "ick then, as he laid down his pipe; \"it's the Aged's treat.\"\n\nProceeding into the Castle again, we found the Aged heating the poker,\nwith expectant eyes, as a preliminary to the performance of this great\nnightly ceremony. Wemmick stood with his watch in his hand until the\nmoment was come for him to take the red-hot poker from the Aged, and\nrepair to the battery. He took it, and went out, and presently the\nStinger went off with a Bang that shook the crazy little box of a", ", but just lifted their heads\nand took a sleepy stare, and then lay down again. The sergeant made some\nkind of report, and some entry in a book, and then the convict whom I\ncall the other convict was drafted off with his guard, to go on board\nfirst.\n\nMy convict never looked at me, except that once. While we stood in the\nhut, he stood before the fire looking thoughtfully at it, or putting up\nhis feet by turns upon the hob, and looking thoughtfully at them as if\nhe pitied them for their", "hopes seemed all running back, I told him how\ngrieved I was to think that he had come home for my sake.\n\n\"Dear boy,\" he answered, \"I'm quite content to take my chance. I've seen\nmy boy, and he can be a gentleman without me.\"\n\nNo. I had thought about that, while we had been there side by side. No.\nApart from any inclinations of my own, I understood Wemmick's hint now.\nI foresaw that, being convicted, his possessions would be forfeited to\n", "of the great convenience that the hulks were\nhandy for me. I was clearly on my way there. I had begun by asking\nquestions, and I was going to rob Mrs. Joe.\n\nSince that time, which is far enough away now, I have often thought\nthat few people know what secrecy there is in the young under terror.\nNo matter how unreasonable the terror, so that it be terror. I was in\nmortal terror of the young man who wanted my heart and liver; I was\nin mortal terror of my interlocutor with the iron leg", "said my convict, wiping blood from his face with his ragged\nsleeves, and shaking torn hair from his fingers: \"I took him! I give him\nup to you! Mind that!\"\n\n\"It's not much to be particular about,\" said the sergeant; \"it'll do you\nsmall good, my man, being in the same plight yourself. Handcuffs there!\"\n\n\"I don't expect it to do me any good. I don't want it to do me more good\nthan it does now,\" said my convict, with a", "antly gave him my hands. He grasped them\nheartily, raised them to his lips, kissed them, and still held them.\n\n\"You acted noble, my boy,\" said he. \"Noble, Pip! And I have never forgot\nit!\"\n\nAt a change in his manner as if he were even going to embrace me, I laid\na hand upon his breast and put him away.\n\n\"Stay!\" said I. \"Keep off! If you are grateful to me for what I did when\nI was a little child, I hope you have shown your gratitude by m" ], [ "\n\nShe was in her chair near the old table, in the old dress, with her two\nhands crossed on her stick, her chin resting on them, and her eyes on\nthe fire. Sitting near her, with the white shoe, that had never been\nworn, in her hand, and her head bent as she looked at it, was an elegant\nlady whom I had never seen.\n\n\"Come in, Pip,\" Miss Havisham continued to mutter, without looking round\nor up; \"come in, Pip, how do you do, Pip? so you", "\n\"Nothing but beggar my neighbor, miss.\"\n\n\"Beggar him,\" said Miss Havisham to Estella. So we sat down to cards.\n\nIt was then I began to understand that everything in the room had\nstopped, like the watch and the clock, a long time ago. I noticed that\nMiss Havisham put down the jewel exactly on the spot from which she had\ntaken it up. As Estella dealt the cards, I glanced at the dressing-table\nagain, and saw that the shoe upon it, once white, now yellow, had never\nbeen", "Miss Havisham. It was the first time I had ever seen\nthem opposed.\n\nWe were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham\nstill had Estella's arm drawn through her own, and still clutched\nEstella's hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself.\nShe had shown a proud impatience more than once before, and had rather\nendured that fierce affection than accepted or returned it.\n\n\"What!\" said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, \"are you tired\nof", "\n\n\"Why, what's the matter with you?\" asked Miss Havisham, with exceeding\nsharpness.\n\n\"Nothing worth mentioning,\" replied Camilla. \"I don't wish to make a\ndisplay of my feelings, but I have habitually thought of you more in the\nnight than I am quite equal to.\"\n\n\"Then don't think of me,\" retorted Miss Havisham.\n\n\"Very easily said!\" remarked Camilla, amiably repressing a sob, while a\nhitch came into her upper lip, and her tears overflowed", "\nthem from a distance, when Miss Havisham laid a hand upon my shoulder.\nIn her other hand she had a crutch-headed stick on which she leaned, and\nshe looked like the Witch of the place.\n\n\"This,\" said she, pointing to the long table with her stick, \"is where I\nwill be laid when I am dead. They shall come and look at me here.\"\n\nWith some vague misgiving that she might get upon the table then and\nthere and die at once, the complete realization of the ghastly waxwork\nat the Fair,", ", when we began\nthe old slow circuit round about the ashes of the bridal feast. But,\nin the funereal room, with that figure of the grave fallen back in the\nchair fixing its eyes upon her, Estella looked more bright and beautiful\nthan before, and I was under stronger enchantment.\n\nThe time so melted away, that our early dinner-hour drew close at hand,\nand Estella left us to prepare herself. We had stopped near the centre\nof the long table, and Miss Havisham, with one of her withered arms\nstretched out", "\nAn elderly woman, whom I had seen before as one of the servants who\nlived in the supplementary house across the back courtyard, opened the\ngate. The lighted candle stood in the dark passage within, as of old,\nand I took it up and ascended the staircase alone. Miss Havisham was not\nin her own room, but was in the larger room across the landing. Looking\nin at the door, after knocking in vain, I saw her sitting on the hearth\nin a ragged chair, close before, and lost in the contemplation of, the\nash", "the nature of a muslin mop,--and\nstrewing the ground with her hair,--which assuredly had never grown\non her head. She did not appear when we afterwards went up to Miss\nHavisham's room, and we four played at whist. In the interval, Miss\nHavisham, in a fantastic way, had put some of the most beautiful jewels\nfrom her dressing-table into Estella's hair, and about her bosom and\narms; and I saw even my guardian look at her from under his thick\neyebrows, and raise", "\"Ah! How many times? Ten thousand times?\"\n\n\"Oh! Certainly not so many.\"\n\n\"Twice?\"\n\n\"Jaggers,\" interposed Miss Havisham, much to my relief, \"leave my Pip\nalone, and go with him to your dinner.\"\n\nHe complied, and we groped our way down the dark stairs together. While\nwe were still on our way to those detached apartments across the paved\nyard at the back, he asked me how often I had seen Miss Havisham eat\nand drink; offering me a breadth of", "of the chair, rested that clenched hand upon the yellow\ncloth. As Estella looked back over her shoulder before going out at the\ndoor, Miss Havisham kissed that hand to her, with a ravenous intensity\nthat was of its kind quite dreadful.\n\nThen, Estella being gone and we two left alone, she turned to me, and\nsaid in a whisper,--\n\n\"Is she beautiful, graceful, well-grown? Do you admire her?\"\n\n\"Everybody must who sees her, Miss Havisham.\"\n\nShe drew an", "where. At last, when the night was\nslow to creep on towards two o'clock, I felt that I absolutely could no\nlonger bear the place as a place to lie down in, and that I must get up.\nI therefore got up and put on my clothes, and went out across the yard\ninto the long stone passage, designing to gain the outer courtyard and\nwalk there for the relief of my mind. But I was no sooner in the passage\nthan I extinguished my candle; for I saw Miss Havisham going along it\nin a ghostly manner, making a", "for a purpose, had wanted her to take naturally to the daylight and she\ncould not do it, you would have been disappointed and angry?\"\n\nMiss Havisham sat listening (or it seemed so, for I could not see her\nface), but still made no answer.\n\n\"So,\" said Estella, \"I must be taken as I have been made. The success is\nnot mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.\"\n\nMiss Havisham had settled down, I hardly knew how, upon the floor, among\nthe faded bridal relics with", "say nothing of her. What\ndo you think of her?\"\n\n\"I don't like to say,\" I stammered.\n\n\"Tell me in my ear,\" said Miss Havisham, bending down.\n\n\"I think she is very proud,\" I replied, in a whisper.\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I think she is very pretty.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I think she is very insulting.\" (She was looking at me then with a look\nof supreme aversion.)\n\n\"Anything else?\"\n\n\"I", "no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I knew\nso well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I looked back\nat Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his hat with the\ngreatest care, and was coming after us in long strides on the tips of\nhis toes.\n\nEstella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the coat-cuff\nand conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was seated at her\ndressing-table, and looked round at us immediately", "plaintively contemplated Miss Havisham, \"Poor dear\nsoul! Certainly not to be expected to look well, poor thing. The idea!\"\n\n\"And how are you?\" said Miss Havisham to Camilla. As we were close to\nCamilla then, I would have stopped as a matter of course, only Miss\nHavisham wouldn't stop. We swept on, and I felt that I was highly\nobnoxious to Camilla.\n\n\"Thank you, Miss Havisham,\" she returned, \"I am as well as can be\nexpected.\"", "day but one, to see\nJoe arraying himself in his Sunday clothes to accompany me to Miss\nHavisham's. However, as he thought his court-suit necessary to the\noccasion, it was not for me to tell him that he looked far better in his\nworking-dress; the rather, because I knew he made himself so dreadfully\nuncomfortable, entirely on my account, and that it was for me he pulled\nup his shirt-collar so very high behind, that it made the hair on the\ncrown of his head stand up like a tuft of", "on in this way for a long time, and it seemed likely that we\nshould continue to go on in this way for a long time, when one day Miss\nHavisham stopped short as she and I were walking, she leaning on my\nshoulder; and said with some displeasure,--\n\n\"You are growing tall, Pip!\"\n\nI thought it best to hint, through the medium of a meditative look, that\nthis might be occasioned by circumstances over which I had no control.\n\nShe said no more at the time; but she presently stopped and looked at me", "I knew I should want next\nmorning, in a fiction that there was not a moment to be lost.\n\nSo, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, passed; and on Friday morning I\nwent to Mr. Pumblechook's, to put on my new clothes and pay my visit to\nMiss Havisham. Mr. Pumblechook's own room was given up to me to dress\nin, and was decorated with clean towels expressly for the event. My\nclothes were rather a disappointment, of course. Probably every new\nand eagerly expected garment ever put", "hands with him again before departing. This was\nall as it should be, and I went out in my new array, fearfully ashamed\nof having to pass the shopman, and suspicious after all that I was at a\npersonal disadvantage, something like Joe's in his Sunday suit.\n\nI went circuitously to Miss Havisham's by all the back ways, and rang\nat the bell constrainedly, on account of the stiff long fingers of my\ngloves. Sarah Pocket came to the gate, and positively reeled back when\nshe saw me so changed; her", "stood looking at her own figure\nlying there. I remained quiet. Estella returned, and she too remained\nquiet. It seemed to me that we continued thus for a long time. In\nthe heavy air of the room, and the heavy darkness that brooded in its\nremoter corners, I even had an alarming fancy that Estella and I might\npresently begin to decay.\n\nAt length, not coming out of her distraught state by degrees, but in an\ninstant, Miss Havisham said, \"Let me see you two play cards; why have\nyou not begun" ], [ "Joe, \"as you and me were ever friends, and it\nwere looked for'ard to betwixt us, as being calc'lated to lead to\nlarks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever made objections to the\nbusiness,--such as its being open to black and sut, or such-like,--not\nbut what they would have been attended to, don't you see?\"\n\n\"Has the boy,\" said Miss Havisham, \"ever made any objection? Does he\nlike the trade?\"\n\n\"Which it is well beknown", "said I.\n\n\"Ecod,\" replied Wemmick, shaking his head, \"that's not my trade.\"\n\n\"Nor is this your trading-place,\" said I.\n\n\"You are right,\" he returned. \"You hit the nail on the head. Mr. Pip,\nI'll put on my considering-cap, and I think all you want to do may be\ndone by degrees. Skiffins (that's her brother) is an accountant and\nagent. I'll look him up and go to work for you.\"\n\n\"I thank", "Pip's comrade, that\nthat man got me into such nets as made me his black slave. I was always\nin debt to him, always under his thumb, always a working, always a\ngetting into danger. He was younger than me, but he'd got craft, and\nhe'd got learning, and he overmatched me five hundred times told and\nno mercy. My Missis as I had the hard time wi'--Stop though! I ain't\nbrought her in--\"\n\nHe looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost", "Joe resumed:--\n\n\"Well, you see, Pip, and here we are! That's about where it lights; here\nwe are! Now, when you take me in hand in my learning, Pip (and I tell\nyou beforehand I am awful dull, most awful dull), Mrs. Joe mustn't see\ntoo much of what we're up to. It must be done, as I may say, on the sly.\nAnd why on the sly? I'll tell you why, Pip.\"\n\nHe had taken up the poker again; without", "\n\"Which I meantersay, Pip,\" Joe now observed in a manner that was at\nonce expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great\npoliteness, \"as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time\nwhat you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man.\"\n\n\"Well!\" said Miss Havisham. \"And you have reared the boy, with the\nintention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?\"\n\n\"You know, Pip,\" replied", "\nup to him. And then he took us home and hammered us. Which, you see,\nPip,\" said Joe, pausing in his meditative raking of the fire, and\nlooking at me, \"were a drawback on my learning.\"\n\n\"Certainly, poor Joe!\"\n\n\"Though mind you, Pip,\" said Joe, with a judicial touch or two of the\npoker on the top bar, \"rendering unto all their doo, and maintaining\nequal justice betwixt man and man, my father were that good in his hart,", "a still more tremendous one; \"you like that, don't you? If\nyou're not tired, Mr. Pip--though I know it's tiring to strangers--will\nyou tip him one more? You can't think how it pleases him.\"\n\nI tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him\nbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch in\nthe arbor; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it had taken\nhim a good many years", ". To\nhave struggled with him in the street, or to have exacted any lower\nrecompense from him than his heart's best blood, would have been\nfutile and degrading. Moreover, he was a boy whom no man could hurt; an\ninvulnerable and dodging serpent who, when chased into a corner, flew\nout again between his captor's legs, scornfully yelping. I wrote,\nhowever, to Mr. Trabb by next day's post, to say that Mr. Pip must\ndecline to deal further", "any Bay; and years have rolled away, and who's to gain by it? Still,\nlook'ee here, Pip. If the danger had been fifty times as great, I should\nha' come to see you, mind you, just the same.\"\n\n\"And how long do you remain?\"\n\n\"How long?\" said he, taking his black pipe from his mouth, and dropping\nhis jaw as he stared at me. \"I'm not a going back. I've come for good.\"\n\n\"Where are you to live?\" said I. \"What is to be done", "head) leaning back in chairs, with\nfolded arms, or taking snuff, or going to sleep, or writing, or reading\nthe newspapers,--and with some shining black portraits on the walls,\nwhich my unartistic eye regarded as a composition of hardbake and\nsticking-plaster. Here, in a corner my indentures were duly signed and\nattested, and I was \"bound\"; Mr. Pumblechook holding me all the while\nas if we had looked in on our way to the scaffold, to have those little\npreliminaries dis", "forefinger of his right.\n\n\"From information I have received,\" said he, looking round at us as we\nall quailed before him, \"I have reason to believe there is a blacksmith\namong you, by name Joseph--or Joe--Gargery. Which is the man?\"\n\n\"Here is the man,\" said Joe.\n\nThe strange gentleman beckoned him out of his place, and Joe went.\n\n\"You have an apprentice,\" pursued the stranger, \"commonly known as Pip?\nIs he here?\"\n\n\"I am here!\"", "and from this place, and be brought up as a gentleman,--in a word, as a\nyoung fellow of great expectations.\"\n\nMy dream was out; my wild fancy was surpassed by sober reality; Miss\nHavisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale.\n\n\"Now, Mr. Pip,\" pursued the lawyer, \"I address the rest of what I have\nto say, to you. You are to understand, first, that it is the request\nof the person from whom I take my instructions that you always bear\nthe name of Pip. You", "go and do it.\"\nSo he went.\n\nAfter Mr. Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister was washing up,\nI stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had done for\nthe night. Then I said, \"Before the fire goes out, Joe, I should like to\ntell you something.\"\n\n\"Should you, Pip?\" said Joe, drawing his shoeing-stool near the forge.\n\"Then tell us. What is it, Pip?\"\n\n\"Joe,\" said I, taking hold of his rolled", "going to thank him, \"I\ntell you at once, I am paid for my services, or I shouldn't render them.\nIt is considered that you must be better educated, in accordance with\nyour altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance and\nnecessity of at once entering on that advantage.\"\n\nI said I had always longed for it.\n\n\"Never mind what you have always longed for, Mr. Pip,\" he retorted;\n\"keep to the record. If you long for it now, that's enough. Am I\nanswered", ", and went through his favorite action of holding\nout both his hands for mine.\n\n\"And this,\" said he, dandling my hands up and down in his, as he puffed\nat his pipe,--\"and this is the gentleman what I made! The real genuine\nOne! It does me good fur to look at you, Pip. All I stip'late, is, to\nstand by and look at you, dear boy!\"\n\nI released my hands as soon as I could, and found that I was beginning\nslowly to settle down to the contemplation of my", "\nthat person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which\nto encumber such a rise in fortune; but if you have any objection to it,\nthis is the time to mention it. Speak out.\"\n\nOnce more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations.\"\nThough he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still\ncould not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion; and even", "infancy. Pursuing the subject, I inquired,--\n\n\"Didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?\"\n\n\"No, Pip.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?\"\n\n\"Well, Pip,\" said Joe, taking up the poker, and settling himself to\nhis usual occupation when he was thoughtful, of slowly raking the fire\nbetween the lower bars; \"I'll tell you. My father, Pip, he were given", ".\n\n\"Though, look'ee here, Pip's comrade,\" he said to Herbert, after having\ndiscoursed for some time, \"I know very well that once since I come\nback--for half a minute--I've been low. I said to Pip, I knowed as I had\nbeen low. But don't you fret yourself on that score. I ain't made Pip a\ngentleman, and Pip ain't a going to make you a gentleman, not fur me not\nto know what's due to ye", "ee\nhere, Pip. Look over it. I ain't a going to be low.\"\n\n\"First,\" I resumed, half groaning, \"what precautions can be taken\nagainst your being recognized and seized?\"\n\n\"No, dear boy,\" he said, in the same tone as before, \"that don't\ngo first. Lowness goes first. I ain't took so many year to make a\ngentleman, not without knowing what's due to him. Look'ee here, Pip. I\nwas low; that's what I", "could make a gentleman,--and, Pip, you're him!\"\n\nThe abhorrence in which I held the man, the dread I had of him, the\nrepugnance with which I shrank from him, could not have been exceeded if\nhe had been some terrible beast.\n\n\"Look'ee here, Pip. I'm your second father. You're my son,--more to me\nnor any son. I've put away money, only for you to spend. When I was a\nhired-out shepherd in a solitary h" ], [ "will have no objection, I dare say, to your great\nexpectations being encumbered with that easy condition. But if you have\nany objection, this is the time to mention it.\"\n\nMy heart was beating so fast, and there was such a singing in my ears,\nthat I could scarcely stammer I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now you are to understand, secondly, Mr. Pip, that\nthe name of the person who is your liberal benefactor remains a profound\nsecret, until the person chooses to reveal it. I am empower", "and from this place, and be brought up as a gentleman,--in a word, as a\nyoung fellow of great expectations.\"\n\nMy dream was out; my wild fancy was surpassed by sober reality; Miss\nHavisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale.\n\n\"Now, Mr. Pip,\" pursued the lawyer, \"I address the rest of what I have\nto say, to you. You are to understand, first, that it is the request\nof the person from whom I take my instructions that you always bear\nthe name of Pip. You", ", informed, Mr. Jaggers.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"I have been informed by a person named Abel Magwitch, that he is the\nbenefactor so long unknown to me.\"\n\n\"That is the man,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"in New South Wales.\"\n\n\"And only he?\" said I.\n\n\"And only he,\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"I am not so unreasonable, sir, as to think you at all responsible for\nmy mistakes and wrong conclusions; but I always supposed it was Miss\nHav", "\nthat person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which\nto encumber such a rise in fortune; but if you have any objection to it,\nthis is the time to mention it. Speak out.\"\n\nOnce more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations.\"\nThough he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still\ncould not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion; and even", "I derived\nthat, from the look they interchanged.\n\n\"And what wind,\" said Miss Havisham, \"blows you here, Pip?\"\n\nThough she looked steadily at me, I saw that she was rather confused.\nEstella, pausing a moment in her knitting with her eyes upon me, and\nthen going on, I fancied that I read in the action of her fingers, as\nplainly as if she had told me in the dumb alphabet, that she perceived I\nhad discovered my real benefactor.\n\n\"Miss Havisham,\" said", "a gay figure, Pip,\" said she, making her crutch stick play\nround me, as if she, the fairy godmother who had changed me, were\nbestowing the finishing gift.\n\n\"I have come into such good fortune since I saw you last, Miss\nHavisham,\" I murmured. \"And I am so grateful for it, Miss Havisham!\"\n\n\"Ay, ay!\" said she, looking at the discomfited and envious Sarah, with\ndelight. \"I have seen Mr. Jaggers. I have heard about it, Pip", "told, Joe.\"\n\n\"Pip's a gentleman of fortun' then,\" said Joe, \"and God bless him in\nit!\"\n\nBiddy dropped her work, and looked at me. Joe held his knees and looked\nat me. I looked at both of them. After a pause, they both heartily\ncongratulated me; but there was a certain touch of sadness in their\ncongratulations that I rather resented.\n\nI took it upon myself to impress Biddy (and through Biddy, Joe) with the\ngrave obligation I considered", "could make a gentleman,--and, Pip, you're him!\"\n\nThe abhorrence in which I held the man, the dread I had of him, the\nrepugnance with which I shrank from him, could not have been exceeded if\nhe had been some terrible beast.\n\n\"Look'ee here, Pip. I'm your second father. You're my son,--more to me\nnor any son. I've put away money, only for you to spend. When I was a\nhired-out shepherd in a solitary h", "money, Pip, is your own. It is a present to you on this\nday, in earnest of your expectations. And at the rate of that handsome\nsum of money per annum, and at no higher rate, you are to live until the\ndonor of the whole appears. That is to say, you will now take your money\naffairs entirely into your own hands, and you will draw from Wemmick\none hundred and twenty-five pounds per quarter, until you are in\ncommunication with the fountain-head, and no longer with the mere\nagent. As I", "oked his pipe at the window, \"who my patron was?\"\n\n\"I heerd,\" returned Joe, \"as it were not Miss Havisham, old chap.\"\n\n\"Did you hear who it was, Joe?\"\n\n\"Well! I heerd as it were a person what sent the person what giv' you\nthe bank-notes at the Jolly Bargemen, Pip.\"\n\n\"So it was.\"\n\n\"Astonishing!\" said Joe, in the placidest way.\n\n\"Did you hear that he was dead, Joe?\" I presently asked, with", "\n\"Which I meantersay, Pip,\" Joe now observed in a manner that was at\nonce expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great\npoliteness, \"as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time\nwhat you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man.\"\n\n\"Well!\" said Miss Havisham. \"And you have reared the boy, with the\nintention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?\"\n\n\"You know, Pip,\" replied", "to make a\nbeginning. Now I want somehow to help him to a beginning.\"\n\n\"With money down?\" said Wemmick, in a tone drier than any sawdust.\n\n\"With some money down,\" I replied, for an uneasy remembrance shot across\nme of that symmetrical bundle of papers at home--\"with some money down,\nand perhaps some anticipation of my expectations.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pip,\" said Wemmick, \"I should like just to run over with you on my\nfingers, if you please, the names of", "I did, that he had made a point there, and he pulled hard\nat his pipe to keep himself from weakening it by repetition.\n\n\"You see, Pip,\" Joe pursued, as soon as he was past that danger, \"Miss\nHavisham done the handsome thing by you. When Miss Havisham done the\nhandsome thing by you, she called me back to say to me as that were\nall.\"\n\n\"Yes, Joe. I heard her.\"\n\n\"ALL,\" Joe repeated, very emphatically.\n\n\"Yes, Joe. I", ".\n\n\"Though, look'ee here, Pip's comrade,\" he said to Herbert, after having\ndiscoursed for some time, \"I know very well that once since I come\nback--for half a minute--I've been low. I said to Pip, I knowed as I had\nbeen low. But don't you fret yourself on that score. I ain't made Pip a\ngentleman, and Pip ain't a going to make you a gentleman, not fur me not\nto know what's due to ye", "don't.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" my guardian assented; \"don't have too much to do with him.\nKeep as clear of him as you can. But I like the fellow, Pip; he is one\nof the true sort. Why, if I was a fortune-teller--\"\n\nLooking out of the towel, he caught my eye.\n\n\"But I am not a fortune-teller,\" he said, letting his head drop into a\nfestoon of towel, and towelling away at his two ears. \"You know what I\nam", ".\n\n\"Is my benefactor to be made known to me to-day?\"\n\n\"No. Ask another.\"\n\n\"Is that confidence to be imparted to me soon?\"\n\n\"Waive that, a moment,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"and ask another.\"\n\nI looked about me, but there appeared to be now no possible escape from\nthe inquiry, \"Have-I--anything to receive, sir?\" On that, Mr. Jaggers\nsaid, triumphantly, \"I thought we should come to it!\" and called to\nWem", "\nthe Boar present, known and respected in this town, and here is William,\nwhich his father's name was Potkins if I do not deceive myself.\"\n\n\"You do not, sir,\" said William.\n\n\"In their presence,\" pursued Pumblechook, \"I will tell you, young\nman, what to say to Joseph. Says you, \"Joseph, I have this day seen\nmy earliest benefactor and the founder of my fortun's. I will name no\nnames, Joseph, but so they are pleased to call him up town, and", "and blood\n'uns, if you please, good Lord!) and not my London gentleman? No, no.\nWe'll show 'em another pair of shoes than that, Pip; won't us?\"\n\nHe took out of his pocket a great thick pocket-book, bursting with\npapers, and tossed it on the table.\n\n\"There's something worth spending in that there book, dear boy. It's\nyourn. All I've got ain't mine; it's yourn. Don't you be afeerd on it.\nThere'", "a still more tremendous one; \"you like that, don't you? If\nyou're not tired, Mr. Pip--though I know it's tiring to strangers--will\nyou tip him one more? You can't think how it pleases him.\"\n\nI tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him\nbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch in\nthe arbor; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it had taken\nhim a good many years", "have told you before, I am the mere agent. I execute my\ninstructions, and I am paid for doing so. I think them injudicious, but\nI am not paid for giving any opinion on their merits.\"\n\nI was beginning to express my gratitude to my benefactor for the great\nliberality with which I was treated, when Mr. Jaggers stopped me. \"I am\nnot paid, Pip,\" said he, coolly, \"to carry your words to any one;\" and\nthen gathered up his coat-tails, as he had gathered up the subject, and" ], [ "?\"\n\n\"I have seen her mother within these three days.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"And so have you, sir. And you have seen her still more recently.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" said Mr. Jaggers.\n\n\"Perhaps I know more of Estella's history than even you do,\" said I. \"I\nknow her father too.\"\n\nA certain stop that Mr. Jaggers came to in his manner--he was too\nself-possessed to change his manner, but he could not help its being\nbrought to", "-no, my dear boy,\" said Herbert, after taking time to examine me. \"You\nare rather excited, but you are quite yourself.\"\n\n\"I know I am quite myself. And the man we have in hiding down the river,\nis Estella's Father.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter LI\n\nWhat purpose I had in view when I was hot on tracing out and proving\nEstella's parentage, I cannot say. It will presently be seen that the\nquestion was not before me in a distinct shape until it was put before\nme by a wiser head than", "love, and save from my fate. I had first seen him when I sent\nfor him to lay this place waste for me; having read of him in the\nnewspapers, before I and the world parted. He told me that he would\nlook about him for such an orphan child. One night he brought her here\nasleep, and I called her Estella.\"\n\n\"Might I ask her age then?\"\n\n\"Two or three. She herself knows nothing, but that she was left an\norphan and I adopted her.\"\n\nSo convinced I was of that woman's", "ose child was Estella?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"You don't know?\"\n\nShe shook her head again.\n\n\"But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?\"\n\n\"Brought her here.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me how that came about?\"\n\nShe answered in a low whisper and with caution: \"I had been shut up in\nthese rooms a long time (I don't know how long; you know what time the\nclocks keep here), when I told him that I wanted a little girl to rear\nand", "me?\"\n\n\"Only a little tired of myself,\" replied Estella, disengaging her arm,\nand moving to the great chimney-piece, where she stood looking down at\nthe fire.\n\n\"Speak the truth, you ingrate!\" cried Miss Havisham, passionately\nstriking her stick upon the floor; \"you are tired of me.\"\n\nEstella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down\nat the fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a\nself-possessed indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was", "am?\"\n\n\"I don't say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl's hard and\nhaughty and capricious to the last degree, and has been brought up by\nMiss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex.\"\n\n\"What relation is she to Miss Havisham?\"\n\n\"None,\" said he. \"Only adopted.\"\n\n\"Why should she wreak revenge on all the male sex? What revenge?\"\n\n\"Lord, Mr. Pip!\" said he. \"Don't you know?\"\n\n\"No", "is,\" said I, \"because I cannot bear that people should say, 'she\nthrows away her graces and attractions on a mere boor, the lowest in the\ncrowd.'\"\n\n\"I can bear it,\" said Estella.\n\n\"Oh! don't be so proud, Estella, and so inflexible.\"\n\n\"Calls me proud and inflexible in this breath!\" said Estella, opening\nher hands. \"And in his last breath reproached me for stooping to a\nboor!\"\n\n\"There is no doubt you do,\"", ", and then her stay in the\nroom was very short, and Mr. Jaggers was sharp with her. But her hands\nwere Estella's hands, and her eyes were Estella's eyes, and if she had\nreappeared a hundred times I could have been neither more sure nor less\nsure that my conviction was the truth.\n\nIt was a dull evening, for Wemmick drew his wine, when it came round,\nquite as a matter of business,--just as he might have drawn his salary\nwhen that came round,--and with his eyes on his chief", "I do know your story, and have known it ever since I first left\nthis neighborhood. It has inspired me with great commiseration, and I\nhope I understand it and its influences. Does what has passed between us\ngive me any excuse for asking you a question relative to Estella? Not as\nshe is, but as she was when she first came here?\"\n\nShe was seated on the ground, with her arms on the ragged chair, and\nher head leaning on them. She looked full at me when I said this, and\nreplied, \"Go on.\"\n\n\"Wh", "had not taken him\ninto her confidence as to her designing me for Estella; that he resented\nthis, and felt a jealousy about it; or that he really did object to\nthat scheme, and would have nothing to do with it. When I raised my eyes\nagain, I found that he had been shrewdly looking at me all the time, and\nwas doing so still.\n\n\"If that is all you have to say, sir,\" I remarked, \"there can be nothing\nleft for me to say.\"\n\nHe nodded assent, and pulled out his thief-d", "are\nhere, Pip?\"\n\nI told him when I had arrived, and how Miss Havisham had wished me to\ncome and see Estella. To which he replied, \"Ah! Very fine young lady!\"\nThen he pushed Miss Havisham in her chair before him, with one of his\nlarge hands, and put the other in his trousers-pocket as if the pocket\nwere full of secrets.\n\n\"Well, Pip! How often have you seen Miss Estella before?\" said he, when\nhe came to a stop.\n\n\"How often?\"\n\n", "said I, something hurriedly, \"for I have\nseen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never\ngive to--me.\"\n\n\"Do you want me then,\" said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed and\nserious, if not angry, look, \"to deceive and entrap you?\"\n\n\"Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?\"\n\n\"Yes, and many others,--all of them but you. Here is Mrs. Brandley. I'll\nsay no more.\"\n\n* *\n\nAnd now that I", "all in all to me, Estella being in it. I thought that\nwith her I could have been happy there for life. (I was not at all happy\nthere at the time, observe, and I knew it well.)\n\n\"Where are you going to, at Richmond?\" I asked Estella.\n\n\"I am going to live,\" said she, \"at a great expense, with a lady there,\nwho has the power--or says she has--of taking me about, and introducing\nme, and showing people to me and showing me to people.\"\n\n\"I suppose you will be", "I call you mad,\" returned Estella, \"I, of all people? Does\nany one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I\ndo? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half\nas well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool\nthat is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up\ninto your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!\"\n\n\"Soon forgotten!\" moaned Miss Havisham. \"Times soon forgotten!\"\n\n\"No, not", "surprise you, it will not\ndisplease you. I am as unhappy as you can ever have meant me to be.\"\n\nMiss Havisham continued to look steadily at me. I could see in the\naction of Estella's fingers as they worked that she attended to what I\nsaid; but she did not look up.\n\n\"I have found out who my patron is. It is not a fortunate discovery,\nand is not likely ever to enrich me in reputation, station, fortune,\nanything. There are reasons why I must say no more of that. It is not", "Estella was set to wreak Miss Havisham's revenge on men, and that she\nwas not to be given to me until she had gratified it for a term. I saw\nin this, a reason for her being beforehand assigned to me. Sending her\nout to attract and torment and do mischief, Miss Havisham sent her with\nthe malicious assurance that she was beyond the reach of all admirers,\nand that all who staked upon that cast were secured to lose. I saw in\nthis that I, too, was tormented by a per", ", if she had reflected on the\ngravity of what she did. But I think she did not. I think that, in the\nendurance of her own trial, she forgot mine, Estella.\"\n\nI saw Miss Havisham put her hand to her heart and hold it there, as she\nsat looking by turns at Estella and at me.\n\n\"It seems,\" said Estella, very calmly, \"that there are sentiments,\nfancies,--I don't know how to call them,--which I am not able to\ncomprehend. When you say you", "forgotten,\" retorted Estella,--\"not forgotten, but treasured up\nin my memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have\nyou found me unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving\nadmission here,\" she touched her bosom with her hand, \"to anything that\nyou excluded? Be just to me.\"\n\n\"So proud, so proud!\" moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her gray hair\nwith both her hands.\n\n\"Who taught me to be proud?\" returned Estella. \"Who praised me when I\nlearnt", "by, Biddy,--all gone\nby!\"\n\nNevertheless, I knew, while I said those words, that I secretly intended\nto revisit the site of the old house that evening, alone, for her sake.\nYes, even so. For Estella's sake.\n\nI had heard of her as leading a most unhappy life, and as being\nseparated from her husband, who had used her with great cruelty, and who\nhad become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, brutality,\nand meanness. And I had heard of", "then; come\non your birthday.--Ay!\" she cried suddenly, turning herself and her\nchair towards me, \"You are looking round for Estella? Hey?\"\n\nI had been looking round,--in fact, for Estella,--and I stammered that I\nhoped she was well.\n\n\"Abroad,\" said Miss Havisham; \"educating for a lady; far out of reach;\nprettier than ever; admired by all who see her. Do you feel that you\nhave lost her?\"\n\nThere was such a malignant enjoyment in" ], [ "Tom, Jack, or Richard too far out\nof the way at present. Mr. Pip, I'll tell you something. Under existing\ncircumstances, there is no place like a great city when you are once\nin it. Don't break cover too soon. Lie close. Wait till things slacken,\nbefore you try the open, even for foreign air.\"\n\nI thanked him for his valuable advice, and asked him what Herbert had\ndone?\n\n\"Mr. Herbert,\" said Wemmick, \"after being all of a heap for half an\nhour, struck", "a still more tremendous one; \"you like that, don't you? If\nyou're not tired, Mr. Pip--though I know it's tiring to strangers--will\nyou tip him one more? You can't think how it pleases him.\"\n\nI tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him\nbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch in\nthe arbor; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it had taken\nhim a good many years", "ship, the witness\ncame, and completed the easy case. He was committed to take his trial at\nthe next Sessions, which would come on in a month.\n\nIt was at this dark time of my life that Herbert returned home one\nevening, a good deal cast down, and said,--\n\n\"My dear Handel, I fear I shall soon have to leave you.\"\n\nHis partner having prepared me for that, I was less surprised than he\nthought.\n\n\"We shall lose a fine opportunity if I put off going to Cairo, and I am\nvery much", "\nthat person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which\nto encumber such a rise in fortune; but if you have any objection to it,\nthis is the time to mention it. Speak out.\"\n\nOnce more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations.\"\nThough he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still\ncould not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion; and even", "any Bay; and years have rolled away, and who's to gain by it? Still,\nlook'ee here, Pip. If the danger had been fifty times as great, I should\nha' come to see you, mind you, just the same.\"\n\n\"And how long do you remain?\"\n\n\"How long?\" said he, taking his black pipe from his mouth, and dropping\nhis jaw as he stared at me. \"I'm not a going back. I've come for good.\"\n\n\"Where are you to live?\" said I. \"What is to be done", "; and it was from\nthe talk of some of his people in trouble (some of his people being\nalways in trouble) that I heard what I did. I kept my ears open, seeming\nto have them shut, until I heard that he was absent, and I thought that\nwould be the best time for making the attempt. I can only suppose now,\nthat it was a part of his policy, as a very clever man, habitually to\ndeceive his own instruments. You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am\nsure I tried to serve you,", "is\nwell with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you go home,--which is another\nreason for your not going home last night. But, after you have gone\nhome, don't go back here. You are very welcome, I am sure, Mr. Pip\"; his\nhands were now out of his sleeves, and I was shaking them; \"and let me\nfinally impress one important point upon you.\" He laid his hands upon\nmy shoulders, and added in a solemn whisper: \"Avail yourself of this\nevening to lay hold of his portable property. You", "money, Pip, is your own. It is a present to you on this\nday, in earnest of your expectations. And at the rate of that handsome\nsum of money per annum, and at no higher rate, you are to live until the\ndonor of the whole appears. That is to say, you will now take your money\naffairs entirely into your own hands, and you will draw from Wemmick\none hundred and twenty-five pounds per quarter, until you are in\ncommunication with the fountain-head, and no longer with the mere\nagent. As I", ". To\nhave struggled with him in the street, or to have exacted any lower\nrecompense from him than his heart's best blood, would have been\nfutile and degrading. Moreover, he was a boy whom no man could hurt; an\ninvulnerable and dodging serpent who, when chased into a corner, flew\nout again between his captor's legs, scornfully yelping. I wrote,\nhowever, to Mr. Trabb by next day's post, to say that Mr. Pip must\ndecline to deal further", "going to thank him, \"I\ntell you at once, I am paid for my services, or I shouldn't render them.\nIt is considered that you must be better educated, in accordance with\nyour altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance and\nnecessity of at once entering on that advantage.\"\n\nI said I had always longed for it.\n\n\"Never mind what you have always longed for, Mr. Pip,\" he retorted;\n\"keep to the record. If you long for it now, that's enough. Am I\nanswered", "said I.\n\n\"Ecod,\" replied Wemmick, shaking his head, \"that's not my trade.\"\n\n\"Nor is this your trading-place,\" said I.\n\n\"You are right,\" he returned. \"You hit the nail on the head. Mr. Pip,\nI'll put on my considering-cap, and I think all you want to do may be\ndone by degrees. Skiffins (that's her brother) is an accountant and\nagent. I'll look him up and go to work for you.\"\n\n\"I thank", "Pip's comrade, that\nthat man got me into such nets as made me his black slave. I was always\nin debt to him, always under his thumb, always a working, always a\ngetting into danger. He was younger than me, but he'd got craft, and\nhe'd got learning, and he overmatched me five hundred times told and\nno mercy. My Missis as I had the hard time wi'--Stop though! I ain't\nbrought her in--\"\n\nHe looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost", ". Joe greeted me as usual with \"Halloa, Pip, old chap!\" and the\nmoment he said that, the stranger turned his head and looked at me.\n\nHe was a secret-looking man whom I had never seen before. His head was\nall on one side, and one of his eyes was half shut up, as if he were\ntaking aim at something with an invisible gun. He had a pipe in his\nmouth, and he took it out, and, after slowly blowing all his smoke away\nand looking hard at me all the time, nodded. So, I nodded, and", ", Pip.\nIn time I were able to keep him, and I kep him till he went off in a\npurple leptic fit. And it were my intentions to have had put upon his\ntombstone that, Whatsume'er the failings on his part, Remember reader he\nwere that good in his heart.\"\n\nJoe recited this couplet with such manifest pride and careful\nperspicuity, that I asked him if he had made it himself.\n\n\"I made it,\" said Joe, \"my own self. I made it in a moment. It was like", ", much relieved, \"then I shall look you up at\nWalworth, you may depend upon it.\"\n\n\"Mr. Pip,\" he returned, \"you will be welcome there, in a private and\npersonal capacity.\"\n\nWe had held this conversation in a low voice, well knowing my guardian's\nears to be the sharpest of the sharp. As he now appeared in his doorway,\ntowelling his hands, Wemmick got on his great-coat and stood by to snuff\nout the candles. We all three went into the street together, and from", ", and went through his favorite action of holding\nout both his hands for mine.\n\n\"And this,\" said he, dandling my hands up and down in his, as he puffed\nat his pipe,--\"and this is the gentleman what I made! The real genuine\nOne! It does me good fur to look at you, Pip. All I stip'late, is, to\nstand by and look at you, dear boy!\"\n\nI released my hands as soon as I could, and found that I was beginning\nslowly to settle down to the contemplation of my", "once and go to his room and surprise him;\nfor, it was the first day I had been up early. I went to his room, and\nhe was not there. Not only was he not there, but his box was gone.\n\nI hurried then to the breakfast-table, and on it found a letter. These\nwere its brief contents:--\n\n\"Not wishful to intrude I have departured fur you are well again dear\nPip and will do better without JO.\n\n\"P.S. Ever the best of friends.\"\n\nEnclosed in the letter was a rece", "you, Joe.\"\n\n\"Which I fully believed it were, Pip,\" said Joe, slightly tossing\nhis head, \"though it signify little now, sir. Well, Pip; this same\nidentical, which his manners is given to blusterous, come to me at\nthe Bargemen (wot a pipe and a pint of beer do give refreshment to the\nworkingman, sir, and do not over stimilate), and his word were, 'Joseph,\nMiss Havisham she wish to speak to you.'\"\n\n\"Miss Havisham,", "Joe, \"as you and me were ever friends, and it\nwere looked for'ard to betwixt us, as being calc'lated to lead to\nlarks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever made objections to the\nbusiness,--such as its being open to black and sut, or such-like,--not\nbut what they would have been attended to, don't you see?\"\n\n\"Has the boy,\" said Miss Havisham, \"ever made any objection? Does he\nlike the trade?\"\n\n\"Which it is well beknown", "almost in a frenzy of fear and dislike, \"I want to speak\nto you. I want to know what is to be done. I want to know how you are to\nbe kept out of danger, how long you are going to stay, what projects you\nhave.\"\n\n\"Look'ee here, Pip,\" said he, laying his hand on my arm in a suddenly\naltered and subdued manner; \"first of all, look'ee here. I forgot myself\nhalf a minute ago. What I said was low; that's what it was; low. Look'" ], [ "where. At last, when the night was\nslow to creep on towards two o'clock, I felt that I absolutely could no\nlonger bear the place as a place to lie down in, and that I must get up.\nI therefore got up and put on my clothes, and went out across the yard\ninto the long stone passage, designing to gain the outer courtyard and\nwalk there for the relief of my mind. But I was no sooner in the passage\nthan I extinguished my candle; for I saw Miss Havisham going along it\nin a ghostly manner, making a", "\nthem from a distance, when Miss Havisham laid a hand upon my shoulder.\nIn her other hand she had a crutch-headed stick on which she leaned, and\nshe looked like the Witch of the place.\n\n\"This,\" said she, pointing to the long table with her stick, \"is where I\nwill be laid when I am dead. They shall come and look at me here.\"\n\nWith some vague misgiving that she might get upon the table then and\nthere and die at once, the complete realization of the ghastly waxwork\nat the Fair,", "\nAn elderly woman, whom I had seen before as one of the servants who\nlived in the supplementary house across the back courtyard, opened the\ngate. The lighted candle stood in the dark passage within, as of old,\nand I took it up and ascended the staircase alone. Miss Havisham was not\nin her own room, but was in the larger room across the landing. Looking\nin at the door, after knocking in vain, I saw her sitting on the hearth\nin a ragged chair, close before, and lost in the contemplation of, the\nash", "wooden\nwindow of the forge, and flit away. In a word, it was impossible for me\nto separate her, in the past or in the present, from the innermost life\nof my life.\n\nIt was settled that I should stay there all the rest of the day, and\nreturn to the hotel at night, and to London to-morrow. When we had\nconversed for a while, Miss Havisham sent us two out to walk in the\nneglected garden: on our coming in by and by, she said, I should wheel\nher about a little,", "\n\n\"Why, what's the matter with you?\" asked Miss Havisham, with exceeding\nsharpness.\n\n\"Nothing worth mentioning,\" replied Camilla. \"I don't wish to make a\ndisplay of my feelings, but I have habitually thought of you more in the\nnight than I am quite equal to.\"\n\n\"Then don't think of me,\" retorted Miss Havisham.\n\n\"Very easily said!\" remarked Camilla, amiably repressing a sob, while a\nhitch came into her upper lip, and her tears overflowed", "I had been able to\ntalk much, I deferred asking him about Miss Havisham until next day. He\nshook his head when I then asked him if she had recovered.\n\n\"Is she dead, Joe?\"\n\n\"Why you see, old chap,\" said Joe, in a tone of remonstrance, and by way\nof getting at it by degrees, \"I wouldn't go so far as to say that, for\nthat's a deal to say; but she ain't--\"\n\n\"Living, Joe?\"\n\n\"That's nigher", "an hour we came to Miss Havisham's house, which was of old\nbrick, and dismal, and had a great many iron bars to it. Some of the\nwindows had been walled up; of those that remained, all the lower were\nrustily barred. There was a courtyard in front, and that was barred; so\nwe had to wait, after ringing the bell, until some one should come\nto open it. While we waited at the gate, I peeped in (even then Mr.\nPumblechook said, \"And fourteen?\" but I", "Miss Havisham. It was the first time I had ever seen\nthem opposed.\n\nWe were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham\nstill had Estella's arm drawn through her own, and still clutched\nEstella's hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself.\nShe had shown a proud impatience more than once before, and had rather\nendured that fierce affection than accepted or returned it.\n\n\"What!\" said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, \"are you tired\nof", "\"Ah! How many times? Ten thousand times?\"\n\n\"Oh! Certainly not so many.\"\n\n\"Twice?\"\n\n\"Jaggers,\" interposed Miss Havisham, much to my relief, \"leave my Pip\nalone, and go with him to your dinner.\"\n\nHe complied, and we groped our way down the dark stairs together. While\nwe were still on our way to those detached apartments across the paved\nyard at the back, he asked me how often I had seen Miss Havisham eat\nand drink; offering me a breadth of", "ever seemed yet, even in my eyes. Her manner was more\nwinning than she had cared to let it be to me before, and I thought I\nsaw Miss Havisham's influence in the change.\n\nWe stood in the Inn Yard while she pointed out her luggage to me, and\nwhen it was all collected I remembered--having forgotten everything but\nherself in the meanwhile--that I knew nothing of her destination.\n\n\"I am going to Richmond,\" she told me. \"Our lesson is, that there are\ntwo Richmonds, one in Surrey and one", "then; come\non your birthday.--Ay!\" she cried suddenly, turning herself and her\nchair towards me, \"You are looking round for Estella? Hey?\"\n\nI had been looking round,--in fact, for Estella,--and I stammered that I\nhoped she was well.\n\n\"Abroad,\" said Miss Havisham; \"educating for a lady; far out of reach;\nprettier than ever; admired by all who see her. Do you feel that you\nhave lost her?\"\n\nThere was such a malignant enjoyment in", "in the room with the long spread\ntable, leaning on her crutch stick. The room was lighted as of yore, and\nat the sound of our entrance, she stopped and turned. She was then just\nabreast of the rotted bride-cake.\n\n\"Don't go, Sarah,\" she said. \"Well, Pip?\"\n\n\"I start for London, Miss Havisham, to-morrow,\" I was exceedingly\ncareful what I said, \"and I thought you would kindly not mind my taking\nleave of you.\"\n\n\"This is", "I call you mad,\" returned Estella, \"I, of all people? Does\nany one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I\ndo? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half\nas well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on the little stool\nthat is even now beside you there, learning your lessons and looking up\ninto your face, when your face was strange and frightened me!\"\n\n\"Soon forgotten!\" moaned Miss Havisham. \"Times soon forgotten!\"\n\n\"No, not", "\n\"Nothing but beggar my neighbor, miss.\"\n\n\"Beggar him,\" said Miss Havisham to Estella. So we sat down to cards.\n\nIt was then I began to understand that everything in the room had\nstopped, like the watch and the clock, a long time ago. I noticed that\nMiss Havisham put down the jewel exactly on the spot from which she had\ntaken it up. As Estella dealt the cards, I glanced at the dressing-table\nagain, and saw that the shoe upon it, once white, now yellow, had never\nbeen", "Joe politely hinted, \"mentioned--she.\"\n\n\"And she is a she, I suppose?\" said my sister. \"Unless you call Miss\nHavisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as that.\"\n\n\"Miss Havisham, up town?\" said Joe.\n\n\"Is there any Miss Havisham down town?\" returned my sister.\n\n\"She wants this boy to go and play there. And of course he's going. And\nhe had better play there,\" said my sister, shaking her head at me as an\n", "that looked as if it had once belonged to the\nmanager or head clerk of the extinct brewery. There was a clock in the\nouter wall of this house. Like the clock in Miss Havisham's room, and\nlike Miss Havisham's watch, it had stopped at twenty minutes to nine.\n\nWe went in at the door, which stood open, and into a gloomy room with a\nlow ceiling, on the ground-floor at the back. There was some company in\nthe room, and Estella said to me as she joined it, \"You are to go and", ". So you go\nto-morrow?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"And you are adopted by a rich person?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"Not named?\"\n\n\"No, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\nShe quite gloated on these questions and answers, so keen was her\nenjoyment of Sarah Pocket's jealous dismay. \"Well!\" she went on; \"you\nhave a promising career before", "I, \"I went to Richmond yesterday, to speak to\nEstella; and finding that some wind had blown her here, I followed.\"\n\nMiss Havisham motioning to me for the third or fourth time to sit down,\nI took the chair by the dressing-table, which I had often seen her\noccupy. With all that ruin at my feet and about me, it seemed a natural\nplace for me, that day.\n\n\"What I had to say to Estella, Miss Havisham, I will say before you,\npresently--in a few moments. It will not", "encouragement to be extremely light and sportive, \"or I'll work him.\"\n\nI had heard of Miss Havisham up town,--everybody for miles round had\nheard of Miss Havisham up town,--as an immensely rich and grim lady who\nlived in a large and dismal house barricaded against robbers, and who\nled a life of seclusion.\n\n\"Well to be sure!\" said Joe, astounded. \"I wonder how she come to know\nPip!\"\n\n\"Noodle!\" cried my sister. \"", "no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I knew\nso well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I looked back\nat Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his hat with the\ngreatest care, and was coming after us in long strides on the tips of\nhis toes.\n\nEstella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the coat-cuff\nand conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was seated at her\ndressing-table, and looked round at us immediately" ], [ "ose child was Estella?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"You don't know?\"\n\nShe shook her head again.\n\n\"But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?\"\n\n\"Brought her here.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me how that came about?\"\n\nShe answered in a low whisper and with caution: \"I had been shut up in\nthese rooms a long time (I don't know how long; you know what time the\nclocks keep here), when I told him that I wanted a little girl to rear\nand", "\"Call Estella,\" she repeated, flashing a look at me. \"You can do that.\nCall Estella. At the door.\"\n\nTo stand in the dark in a mysterious passage of an unknown house,\nbawling Estella to a scornful young lady neither visible nor responsive,\nand feeling it a dreadful liberty so to roar out her name, was almost\nas bad as playing to order. But she answered at last, and her light came\nalong the dark passage like a star.\n\nMiss Havisham beckoned her to come close, and took up", "my\nsecret, but another's.\"\n\nAs I was silent for a while, looking at Estella and considering how to\ngo on, Miss Havisham repeated, \"It is not your secret, but another's.\nWell?\"\n\n\"When you first caused me to be brought here, Miss Havisham, when I\nbelonged to the village over yonder, that I wish I had never left,\nI suppose I did really come here, as any other chance boy might have\ncome,--as a kind of servant, to gratify a want or a whim, and", "you, this time.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" said Estella, with a cold careless smile that always\nchilled me.\n\nAfter looking at the twilight without, for a little while, she went on\nto say:--\n\n\"The time has come round when Miss Havisham wishes to have me for a day\nat Satis. You are to take me there, and bring me back, if you will. She\nwould rather I did not travel alone, and objects to receiving my maid,\nfor she has a sensitive horror of being talked of by such people.", "am?\"\n\n\"I don't say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl's hard and\nhaughty and capricious to the last degree, and has been brought up by\nMiss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex.\"\n\n\"What relation is she to Miss Havisham?\"\n\n\"None,\" said he. \"Only adopted.\"\n\n\"Why should she wreak revenge on all the male sex? What revenge?\"\n\n\"Lord, Mr. Pip!\" said he. \"Don't you know?\"\n\n\"No", "are\nhere, Pip?\"\n\nI told him when I had arrived, and how Miss Havisham had wished me to\ncome and see Estella. To which he replied, \"Ah! Very fine young lady!\"\nThen he pushed Miss Havisham in her chair before him, with one of his\nlarge hands, and put the other in his trousers-pocket as if the pocket\nwere full of secrets.\n\n\"Well, Pip! How often have you seen Miss Estella before?\" said he, when\nhe came to a stop.\n\n\"How often?\"\n\n", "Estella was set to wreak Miss Havisham's revenge on men, and that she\nwas not to be given to me until she had gratified it for a term. I saw\nin this, a reason for her being beforehand assigned to me. Sending her\nout to attract and torment and do mischief, Miss Havisham sent her with\nthe malicious assurance that she was beyond the reach of all admirers,\nand that all who staked upon that cast were secured to lose. I saw in\nthis that I, too, was tormented by a per", "then; come\non your birthday.--Ay!\" she cried suddenly, turning herself and her\nchair towards me, \"You are looking round for Estella? Hey?\"\n\nI had been looking round,--in fact, for Estella,--and I stammered that I\nhoped she was well.\n\n\"Abroad,\" said Miss Havisham; \"educating for a lady; far out of reach;\nprettier than ever; admired by all who see her. Do you feel that you\nhave lost her?\"\n\nThere was such a malignant enjoyment in", "did arise, and was not brought about by any one.\"\n\nAny one might have seen in her haggard face that there was no\nsuppression or evasion so far.\n\n\"But when I fell into the mistake I have so long remained in, at least\nyou led me on?\" said I.\n\n\"Yes,\" she returned, again nodding steadily, \"I let you go on.\"\n\n\"Was that kind?\"\n\n\"Who am I,\" cried Miss Havisham, striking her stick upon the floor\nand flashing into wrath so suddenly that Estella glanced up at", "Miss Havisham had sent for me, to see if she could take a fancy to\nme. But she couldn't,--at all events, she didn't.\"\n\nI thought it polite to remark that I was surprised to hear that.\n\n\"Bad taste,\" said Herbert, laughing, \"but a fact. Yes, she had sent for\nme on a trial visit, and if I had come out of it successfully, I\nsuppose I should have been provided for; perhaps I should have been\nwhat-you-may-called it to Estella.\"\n\n\"What's that", "no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I knew\nso well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I looked back\nat Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his hat with the\ngreatest care, and was coming after us in long strides on the tips of\nhis toes.\n\nEstella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the coat-cuff\nand conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was seated at her\ndressing-table, and looked round at us immediately", "kiss my hand as if I\nwere a queen, eh?--Well?\"\n\nShe looked up at me suddenly, only moving her eyes, and repeated in a\ngrimly playful manner,--\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"I heard, Miss Havisham,\" said I, rather at a loss, \"that you were so\nkind as to wish me to come and see you, and I came directly.\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\nThe lady whom I had never seen before, lifted up her eyes and looked\narchly at me, and then I saw that the eyes were Estella", "\n\"You said just now that Estella was not related to Miss Havisham, but\nadopted. When adopted?\"\n\nHerbert shrugged his shoulders. \"There has always been an Estella, since\nI have heard of a Miss Havisham. I know no more. And now, Handel,\" said\nhe, finally throwing off the story as it were, \"there is a perfectly\nopen understanding between us. All that I know about Miss Havisham, you\nknow.\"\n\n\"And all that I know,\" I retorted, \"you know.\"\n\n\"I fully believe", "to think,\" said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment\nof calm wonder, \"that I almost understand how this comes about. If you\nhad brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of\nthese rooms, and had never let her know that there was such a thing as\nthe daylight by which she had never once seen your face,--if you had\ndone that, and then, for a purpose had wanted her to understand the\ndaylight and know all about it, you would have been disappointed and\nangry?\"\n\nMiss Havisham, with her", "love, and save from my fate. I had first seen him when I sent\nfor him to lay this place waste for me; having read of him in the\nnewspapers, before I and the world parted. He told me that he would\nlook about him for such an orphan child. One night he brought her here\nasleep, and I called her Estella.\"\n\n\"Might I ask her age then?\"\n\n\"Two or three. She herself knows nothing, but that she was left an\norphan and I adopted her.\"\n\nSo convinced I was of that woman's", "Havisham, playing with Estella's\nhair.\n\nEstella laughed, and looked at the shoe in her hand, and laughed again,\nand looked at me, and put the shoe down. She treated me as a boy still,\nbut she lured me on.\n\nWe sat in the dreamy room among the old strange influences which had\nso wrought upon me, and I learnt that she had but just come home from\nFrance, and that she was going to London. Proud and wilful as of old,\nshe had brought those qualities into such subjection", ". So you go\nto-morrow?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"And you are adopted by a rich person?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"Not named?\"\n\n\"No, Miss Havisham.\"\n\n\"And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian?\"\n\n\"Yes, Miss Havisham.\"\n\nShe quite gloated on these questions and answers, so keen was her\nenjoyment of Sarah Pocket's jealous dismay. \"Well!\" she went on; \"you\nhave a promising career before", "Miss Havisham. It was the first time I had ever seen\nthem opposed.\n\nWe were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham\nstill had Estella's arm drawn through her own, and still clutched\nEstella's hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself.\nShe had shown a proud impatience more than once before, and had rather\nendured that fierce affection than accepted or returned it.\n\n\"What!\" said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, \"are you tired\nof", "Can\nyou take me?\"\n\n\"Can I take you, Estella!\"\n\n\"You can then? The day after to-morrow, if you please. You are to pay\nall charges out of my purse, You hear the condition of your going?\"\n\n\"And must obey,\" said I.\n\nThis was all the preparation I received for that visit, or for others\nlike it; Miss Havisham never wrote to me, nor had I ever so much as seen\nher handwriting. We went down on the next day but one, and we found her\nin the room where", "was past, she looked down at\nthe fire again.\n\n\"I cannot think,\" said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence \"why\nyou should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation.\nI have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been\nunfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness\nthat I can charge myself with.\"\n\n\"Would it be weakness to return my love?\" exclaimed Miss Havisham. \"But\nyes, yes, she would call it so!\"\n\n\"I begin" ], [ ", and\nforbearance towards her. Therefore, fearing he should be called upon to\ndepose about this destroyed child, and so be the cause of her death, he\nhid himself (much as he grieved for the child), kept himself dark, as he\nsays, out of the way and out of the trial, and was only vaguely talked\nof as a certain man called Abel, out of whom the jealousy arose. After\nthe acquittal she disappeared, and thus he lost the child and the\nchild's mother.\"\n\n\"I want to ask", "if it had no more feeling in it than the file. I\nwas very much afraid of him again, now that he had worked himself into\nthis fierce hurry, and I was likewise very much afraid of keeping away\nfrom home any longer. I told him I must go, but he took no notice, so\nI thought the best thing I could do was to slip off. The last I saw\nof him, his head was bent over his knee and he was working hard at his\nfetter, muttering impatient imprecations at it and at his leg. The last\nI heard of him,", "(this was while my mind was so\nbusy), he even at last began to doubt whether I was there, when suddenly\nI cried out loudly, and he answered the cries, and rushed in, closely\nfollowed by the other two.\n\nWhen I told Herbert what had passed within the house, he was for our\nimmediately going before a magistrate in the town, late at night as it\nwas, and getting out a warrant. But, I had already considered that such\na course, by detaining us there, or binding us to come back, might\nbe fatal to Pro", "execrated the place in very strong language, and gradually\ngrowled themselves out, and had nothing left to say.\n\nAfter overhearing this dialogue, I should assuredly have got down and\nbeen left in the solitude and darkness of the highway, but for feeling\ncertain that the man had no suspicion of my identity. Indeed, I was not\nonly so changed in the course of nature, but so differently dressed and\nso differently circumstanced, that it was not at all likely he could\nhave known me without accidental help. Still, the coincidence of our\nbeing together on the", "churchyard.\nThere we were stopped a few minutes by a signal from the sergeant's\nhand, while two or three of his men dispersed themselves among the\ngraves, and also examined the porch. They came in again without finding\nanything, and then we struck out on the open marshes, through the gate\nat the side of the churchyard. A bitter sleet came rattling against us\nhere on the east wind, and Joe took me on his back.\n\nNow that we were out upon the dismal wilderness where they little\nthought I had been within eight", "seemed to come to his work on purpose, but would slouch in as if by mere\naccident; and when he went to the Jolly Bargemen to eat his dinner, or\nwent away at night, he would slouch out, like Cain or the Wandering Jew,\nas if he had no idea where he was going and no intention of ever\ncoming back. He lodged at a sluice-keeper's out on the marshes, and on\nworking-days would come slouching from his hermitage, with his hands in\nhis pockets and his dinner", "once and go to his room and surprise him;\nfor, it was the first day I had been up early. I went to his room, and\nhe was not there. Not only was he not there, but his box was gone.\n\nI hurried then to the breakfast-table, and on it found a letter. These\nwere its brief contents:--\n\n\"Not wishful to intrude I have departured fur you are well again dear\nPip and will do better without JO.\n\n\"P.S. Ever the best of friends.\"\n\nEnclosed in the letter was a rece", "\n\"Handel,\" said Herbert, stopping, \"you feel convinced that you can take\nno further benefits from him; do you?\"\n\n\"Fully. Surely you would, too, if you were in my place?\"\n\n\"And you feel convinced that you must break with him?\"\n\n\"Herbert, can you ask me?\"\n\n\"And you have, and are bound to have, that tenderness for the life he\nhas risked on your account, that you must save him, if possible, from\nthrowing it away. Then you must get him out of England before you stir", "op was there; but\nour boat was gone, and the two convicts were gone.\n\nWhat with the cries aboard the steamer, and the furious blowing off of\nher steam, and her driving on, and our driving on, I could not at first\ndistinguish sky from water or shore from shore; but the crew of the\ngalley righted her with great speed, and, pulling certain swift strong\nstrokes ahead, lay upon their oars, every man looking silently and\neagerly at the water astern. Presently a dark object was seen in it,\n", "him, Herbert?\"\n\n\"It is necessary to tell him very little. Let him suppose it a mere\nfreak, but a secret one, until the morning comes: then let him know that\nthere is urgent reason for your getting Provis aboard and away. You go\nwith him?\"\n\n\"No doubt.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nIt had seemed to me, in the many anxious considerations I had given the\npoint, almost indifferent what port we made for,--Hamburg, Rotterdam,\nAntwerp,--the place signified little, so that he was out of", "answered, in the same tone; \"chrisen'd Abel.\"\n\n\"What were you brought up to be?\"\n\n\"A warmint, dear boy.\"\n\nHe answered quite seriously, and used the word as if it denoted some\nprofession.\n\n\"When you came into the Temple last night--\" said I, pausing to wonder\nwhether that could really have been last night, which seemed so long\nago.\n\n\"Yes, dear boy?\"\n\n\"When you came in at the gate and asked the watchman the way here, had\nyou any one with", ". I tried to persuade myself that it was so,--as, indeed,\nit might easily be. However, I proposed that he and I should walk away\ntogether to a distant point we could see, and that the boat should take\nus aboard there, or as near there as might prove feasible, at about\nnoon. This being considered a good precaution, soon after breakfast he\nand I set forth, without saying anything at the tavern.\n\nHe smoked his pipe as we went along, and sometimes stopped to clap me on\nthe shoulder. One would have supposed that", "sparrer, thrush. I might have thought it was all lies together, only as\nthe birds' names come out true, I supposed mine did.\n\n\"So fur as I could find, there warn't a soul that see young Abel\nMagwitch, with us little on him as in him, but wot caught fright at him,\nand either drove him off, or took him up. I was took up, took up, took\nup, to that extent that I reg'larly grow'd up took up.\n\n\"This is the way it was, that when", "After\nbreakfast, Joe brought out my indentures from the press in the best\nparlor, and we put them in the fire, and I felt that I was free. With\nall the novelty of my emancipation on me, I went to church with Joe, and\nthought perhaps the clergyman wouldn't have read that about the rich man\nand the kingdom of Heaven, if he had known all.\n\nAfter our early dinner, I strolled out alone, purposing to finish off\nthe marshes at once, and get them done with. As I passed the church,", "and\nthat is his reward. Of course, as an honest man, you will expect no\nother and no more.\"\n\nHow Joe got out of the room, I have never been able to determine; but\nI know that when he did get out he was steadily proceeding upstairs\ninstead of coming down, and was deaf to all remonstrances until I went\nafter him and laid hold of him. In another minute we were outside the\ngate, and it was locked, and Estella was gone. When we stood in the\ndaylight alone again, Joe backed up against a wall,", "in the same prison-ship, but I\ncouldn't get at him for long, though I tried. At last I come behind him\nand hit him on the cheek to turn him round and get a smashing one at\nhim, when I was seen and seized. The black-hole of that ship warn't\na strong one, to a judge of black-holes that could swim and dive. I\nescaped to the shore, and I was a hiding among the graves there, envying\nthem as was in 'em and all over, when I first see my boy!\"", "church wall, he got over it, like a man whose\nlegs were numbed and stiff, and then turned round to look for me. When I\nsaw him turning, I set my face towards home, and made the best use of\nmy legs. But presently I looked over my shoulder, and saw him going on\nagain towards the river, still hugging himself in both arms, and picking\nhis way with his sore feet among the great stones dropped into the\nmarshes here and there, for stepping-places when the rains were heavy or\nthe tide was in.\n\nThe", "way.\n\n\"Ay!\" returned the sergeant, \"two. They're pretty well known to be out\non the marshes still, and they won't try to get clear of 'em before\ndusk. Anybody here seen anything of any such game?\"\n\nEverybody, myself excepted, said no, with confidence. Nobody thought of\nme.\n\n\"Well!\" said the sergeant, \"they'll find themselves trapped in a circle,\nI expect, sooner than they count on. Now, blacksmith! If you're ready,\nhis Majesty", "found out? Let him make a\ntool of me afresh and again? Once more? No, no, no. If I had died at\nthe bottom there,\" and he made an emphatic swing at the ditch with his\nmanacled hands, \"I'd have held to him with that grip, that you should\nhave been safe to find him in my hold.\"\n\nThe other fugitive, who was evidently in extreme horror of his\ncompanion, repeated, \"He tried to murder me. I should have been a dead\nman if you had not come up.\"\n", "said he, \"afore I kill you like any other beast,--which is\nwot I mean to do and wot I have tied you up for,--I'll have a good look\nat you and a good goad at you. O you enemy!\"\n\nIt had passed through my thoughts to cry out for help again; though\nfew could know better than I, the solitary nature of the spot, and the\nhopelessness of aid. But as he sat gloating over me, I was supported by\na scornful detestation of him that sealed my lips. Above" ], [ "of their being imprisoned, whipped, transported,\nneglected, cast out, qualified in all ways for the hangman, and growing\nup to be hanged. Put the case that pretty nigh all the children he saw\nin his daily business life he had reason to look upon as so much\nspawn, to develop into the fish that were to come to his net,--to be\nprosecuted, defended, forsworn, made orphans, bedevilled somehow.\"\n\n\"I follow you, sir.\"\n\n\"Put the case, Pip, that here was", "a still more tremendous one; \"you like that, don't you? If\nyou're not tired, Mr. Pip--though I know it's tiring to strangers--will\nyou tip him one more? You can't think how it pleases him.\"\n\nI tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him\nbestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch in\nthe arbor; where Wemmick told me, as he smoked a pipe, that it had taken\nhim a good many years", "answered, No.\n\n\"Well!\" he said, \"I was, and got convicted. As to took up on suspicion,\nthat was twice or three times in the four or five year that it lasted;\nbut evidence was wanting. At last, me and Compeyson was both committed\nfor felony,--on a charge of putting stolen notes in circulation,--and\nthere was other charges behind. Compeyson says to me, 'Separate\ndefences, no communication,' and that was all. And I was so miserable\npoor, that I sold all the clothes I had", "; and it was from\nthe talk of some of his people in trouble (some of his people being\nalways in trouble) that I heard what I did. I kept my ears open, seeming\nto have them shut, until I heard that he was absent, and I thought that\nwould be the best time for making the attempt. I can only suppose now,\nthat it was a part of his policy, as a very clever man, habitually to\ndeceive his own instruments. You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am\nsure I tried to serve you,", "'t.\"\n\n\"And now, though I know you have already done it in your own kind\nhearts, pray tell me, both, that you forgive me! Pray let me hear you\nsay the words, that I may carry the sound of them away with me, and then\nI shall be able to believe that you can trust me, and think better of\nme, in the time to come!\"\n\n\"O dear old Pip, old chap,\" said Joe. \"God knows as I forgive you, if I\nhave anythink to forgive!\"\n\n\"Amen! And God knows I", "ience of that kind. But now about this other matter. I'll put a\ncase to you. Mind! I admit nothing.\"\n\nHe waited for me to declare that I quite understood that he expressly\nsaid that he admitted nothing.\n\n\"Now, Pip,\" said Mr. Jaggers, \"put this case. Put the case that a\nwoman, under such circumstances as you have mentioned, held her child\nconcealed, and was obliged to communicate the fact to her legal adviser,\non his representing to her that he must know, with an eye to the\nlat", "again,\nstuck his pipe in a button-hole of his coat, spread a hand on each knee,\nand after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few silent moments,\nlooked round at us and said what follows.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XLII\n\n\"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a going fur to tell you my life\nlike a song, or a story-book. But to give it you short and handy, I'll\nput it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and out of jail, in", "\nthat person and by me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which\nto encumber such a rise in fortune; but if you have any objection to it,\nthis is the time to mention it. Speak out.\"\n\nOnce more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection.\n\n\"I should think not! Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations.\"\nThough he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he still\ncould not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion; and even", "ask of\nme, the subordinate; but you'll never catch 'em asking any questions of\nmy principal.\"\n\n\"Is this young gentleman one of the 'prentices or articled ones of your\noffice?\" asked the turnkey, with a grin at Mr. Wemmick's humor.\n\n\"There he goes again, you see!\" cried Wemmick, \"I told you so! Asks\nanother question of the subordinate before his first is dry! Well,\nsupposing Mr. Pip is one of them?\"\n\n\"Why then", "; \"and it's no more than your\nmerits (as I said when my opinion was asked), and I wish you joy of the\nmoney!\"\n\nIf the villain had stopped here, his case would have been sufficiently\nawful, but he blackened his guilt by proceeding to take me into custody,\nwith a right of patronage that left all his former criminality far\nbehind.\n\n\"Now you see, Joseph and wife,\" said Pumblechook, as he took me by the\narm above the elbow, \"I am one of them that always go right through", "swore it was Death.\"\n\n\"And so I swear it is Death,\" said he, putting his pipe back in his\nmouth, \"and Death by the rope, in the open street not fur from this, and\nit's serious that you should fully understand it to be so. What then,\nwhen that's once done? Here I am. To go back now 'ud be as bad as to\nstand ground--worse. Besides, Pip, I'm here, because I've meant it by\nyou, years and years. As to what I dare, I'm a", "is\nwell with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you go home,--which is another\nreason for your not going home last night. But, after you have gone\nhome, don't go back here. You are very welcome, I am sure, Mr. Pip\"; his\nhands were now out of his sleeves, and I was shaking them; \"and let me\nfinally impress one important point upon you.\" He laid his hands upon\nmy shoulders, and added in a solemn whisper: \"Avail yourself of this\nevening to lay hold of his portable property. You", "ee\nhere, Pip. Look over it. I ain't a going to be low.\"\n\n\"First,\" I resumed, half groaning, \"what precautions can be taken\nagainst your being recognized and seized?\"\n\n\"No, dear boy,\" he said, in the same tone as before, \"that don't\ngo first. Lowness goes first. I ain't took so many year to make a\ngentleman, not without knowing what's due to him. Look'ee here, Pip. I\nwas low; that's what I", ". Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put my\nmouth into the forms of saying to Joe, \"What's a convict?\" Joe put his\nmouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate answer, that I\ncould make out nothing of it but the single word \"Pip.\"\n\n\"There was a conwict off last night,\" said Joe, aloud, \"after\nsunset-gun. And they fired warning of him. And now it appears they're\nfiring warning of another.\"\n\n\"Who's firing?\" said I.\n\n", "back.' And I'd have swum off, towing\nhim by the hair, if it had come to that, and I'd a got him aboard\nwithout the soldiers.\n\n\"Of course he'd much the best of it to the last,--his character was so\ngood. He had escaped when he was made half wild by me and my murderous\nintentions; and his punishment was light. I was put in irons, brought\nto trial again, and sent for life. I didn't stop for life, dear boy and\nPip's comrade, being here", "\n\"Which I meantersay, Pip,\" Joe now observed in a manner that was at\nonce expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great\npoliteness, \"as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time\nwhat you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man.\"\n\n\"Well!\" said Miss Havisham. \"And you have reared the boy, with the\nintention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?\"\n\n\"You know, Pip,\" replied", "being suspicious, I even suspected\nthis poor actor. I mistrusted a design to entrap me into some admission.\nTherefore I glanced at him as we walked on together, but said nothing.\n\n\"I had a ridiculous fancy that he must be with you, Mr. Pip, till I saw\nthat you were quite unconscious of him, sitting behind you there like a\nghost.\"\n\nMy former chill crept over me again, but I was resolved not to speak\nyet, for it was quite consistent with his words that he might be set on\nto induce me to connect these", "it was--and a dram of liquor,\nand a pie.\"\n\n\"Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?\" asked\nthe sergeant, confidentially.\n\n\"My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?\"\n\n\"So,\" said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and\nwithout the least glance at me,--\"so you're the blacksmith, are you?\nThan I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie.\"\n", "almost in a frenzy of fear and dislike, \"I want to speak\nto you. I want to know what is to be done. I want to know how you are to\nbe kept out of danger, how long you are going to stay, what projects you\nhave.\"\n\n\"Look'ee here, Pip,\" said he, laying his hand on my arm in a suddenly\naltered and subdued manner; \"first of all, look'ee here. I forgot myself\nhalf a minute ago. What I said was low; that's what it was; low. Look'", "Pip's comrade, that\nthat man got me into such nets as made me his black slave. I was always\nin debt to him, always under his thumb, always a working, always a\ngetting into danger. He was younger than me, but he'd got craft, and\nhe'd got learning, and he overmatched me five hundred times told and\nno mercy. My Missis as I had the hard time wi'--Stop though! I ain't\nbrought her in--\"\n\nHe looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost" ] ]

[ "What does Ms. Havisham wear?", "Why is Pip arrested?", "Who is Estella's real father?", "Who brought Estella to Ms. Havisham?", "Where did Pip see the escaped convict at the beginning of the story?", "What does Pip tell Magwitch, when Magwitch was in jail?", "What is Joe Gargery's trade?", "Where was Magwitch before he returned to England?", "How does the story end?", "Why did Pip emphasize in no parting from Estella after visiting the ruins of Satis´house?", "How did Pip fall into debt and face arrest?", "Why wasn´t Magwith executed since he came back to England?", "Why did Orlick want to kill Pip?", "Why did Magwitch want to kill Compeyson?", "Why did Estella decide to engage Bentley Drummle?", "Why did Estella end up living at Satis house?", "Where was Magwitch sent to in order to spare his death?", "What does Pip steal for the convict?", "What does Miss Havisham usually wear?", "What trade is Pip learning?", "Who is Pip's benefactor?", "Who is Estella's father?", "What does Pip do for a job in Cairo?", "Where does Miss Havisham live?", "Who brought Estella to Miss Havisham?", "Where did Abel go after his escape?", "What is Pip arrested for?" ]

[ [ "A wedding dress", "A wedding dress" ], [ "For his debt", "Debt. " ], [ "Magwitch", "NNNNNNNNNNNNNN" ], [ "Jaggers", "jaggers" ], [ "In the village churchyard. ", "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN" ], [ "That his daughter Estella is alive. ", "His daughter Estella is still alive" ], [ "A blacksmith.", "blacksmith" ], [ "New South Wales.", "New South Wales" ], [ "Pip takes Estella's hand and leaves Satis house. ", "Pip forgives Estella" ], [ "He does not want Estella to suffer as Miss Havisham did when she was jilted", "he sees no shadow" ], [ "He stopped using Abel Magwitch´s money and fell ill so could not work", "He lives on a fixed income. " ], [ "He died from a fight´s wounds before he could stand trial", "Pip protected him" ], [ "because he killed Joe´s wife and knew Pip was Joe´s friend", "because of past crimes" ], [ "Because he was condemed for Compeyson´s crime on Miss Havisham", "Compeyson would have identified Magwitch. " ], [ "Because she wanted to get even at Miss Havisham after quarelling with her", "pip is broke" ], [ "His husband has passed and she had no other relatives", "She lived in it as a child with Miss Havisham, her adopted mother." ], [ "He was ostracized to New South Wales", "New South Wales" ], [ "food and a file", "HHHHHHHHHHHHH" ], [ "an old wedding dress", "wedding dress" ], [ "blacksmithing", "JJHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" ], [ "Abel Magwitch, the escaped convict", "Abel Magwitch the convict" ], [ "Magwitch", "Abel Magwitch" ], [ "he is a clerk at Herbert's firm", "He joins Herbert's firm in Cairo." ], [ "Satis House", "Satis House. " ], [ "Jaggers", "Jaggers and later Pip" ], [ "New South Wales", "New South Wales" ], [ "debt", "BBBBBBBBBB" ] ]

[ [ "CRAIG\n Oh damn.\n\n He SLAMS the DOOR. We FOLLOW Craig upstairs TO Uncle Elroy's\n room. He knocks softly.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Uncle Elroy?\n\n No answer.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Uncle Elroy, you got a tax notice.\n\n Still no answer. He turns the knob. It's open.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S BEDROOM - CON", "father), storms out of the bedroom. He struggles to put on\n his dog catcher's uniform. He stops at the bathroom door and\n knocks hard.\n\n MR. JONES\n Craig! Craig! Off yo' ass and on yo'\n feet; this ain't the time to beat your\n meat!\n\n Mr. Jones laughs at himself.\n\n CRAIG (O.S.)\n I'll be out in about 35-40 minutes!\n\n MR. J", " that right, nephew?\n\n Uncle Elroy hugs Craig by the arm.\n\n MR. JONES\n Craig, remember what I told you.\n\n CRAIG\n I'll remember.\n\n Mr. Jones pulls off. Uncle Elroy yells out to him.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Send Betty my love.\n (to Craig)\n Boy you looking good.\n (grabbing his bags)\n I'mma take these in the house for you,\n ", "Uncle Elroy grabs him in a bear hug and slams him on the bed.\n\n Craig finds himself caught between Suga and Uncle Elroy, but\n now everything is totally still and quiet. Uncle Elroy\n starts to snore again. He's asleep. The coast is clear now.\n Craig tries to make his escape. He crawls over Suga to get\n away. She grabs him and starts to kiss him.\n\n SUGA\n (half asleep)\n Ohhh, baby!\n\n Craig breaks away", "rub off on you.\n\n Craig grabs his bags.\n\n CRAIG\n You coming in?\n\n MR. JONES\n No, I'mma go on to work. I don't wanna\n hear Elroy's mouth. Now listen to me,\n Craig. It's gonna be different living\n over here. Don't let your uncle and your\n cousin get you into no shit. Understand?\n\n CRAIG\n Hey, Pops, I'm grown. ", "Uncle Elroy?\n\n He's about to shake him when Uncle Elroy lets out a big\n grunt. It startles Craig. He looks over at Suga. She's\n completely under the covers. Uncle Elroy rolls over on his\n stomach, then he rolls on his back again. Craig shakes him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Uncle Elroy, wake up. You got a letter\n today.\n\n No response. Craig tries again.\n\n CRAIG (", " bulldogs or something! That's why moving\n wit'cha Uncle Elroy and Cousin Day-Day is\n the best thing for you right now.\n\n CRAIG\n (with attitude)\n Ya'll making me look like a punk.\n\n MR. JONES\n It ain't about being a punk, son. It's\n about this...\n\n Craig smells something in the air.\n\n MR. JONES (cont'd)\n My great, great", "CRAIG\n Most of it. I just hate to see you in\n this situation.\n\n KARLA\n Thanks for noticing. It used ta be\n peaceful before they got out. Took over\n the house and caused my mother's nervous\n breakdown.\n\n CRAIG\n Why didn't she put'em out?\n\n KARLA\n Easier said than done. We saved up to\n get away from them, but they followed us.\n\n CRAIG\n", "you leave, too.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n The front door swings open. It's Uncle Elroy.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Craig, where the hell you been?\n\n Mr. Jones pops up. So does Suga and Miss Ho Kym.\n\n MR. JONES\n Hold up, Elroy, that's my boy. Craig,\n what the hell wrong with you? Where you\n been?\n", "ON CRAIG JONES\n\n the doctor of this delicate operation.\n\n CRAIG (V.O.)\n Soon as my pops found out what Debo said\n to Ezal, he wanted me to move with my\n uncle and little cousin in Rancho\n Cucamonga. Til' things calm down, or\n Debo went back to prison. Whichever\n comes first.\n\n He's sitting on the toilet (dressed: not using it) putting\n the finishing touches on his masterpiece.", "feud, you can always go back to\n home. I gotta live here. Just remember\n that.\n\n He slams the door, starts the car and backs up. Leaving\n Craig standing there. He sees Karla walking away. He looks\n over at the Jokers. They're still staring hard. Craig just\n looks away and walks into the house.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps into the house.\n\n UNCLE", ". Uncle Elroy's hurt. It's his\n back.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n (in pain)\n My back.\n\n MR. JONES\n What's the matter?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n I slip my disc, again... Oh got damn.\n\n Craig goes to assist Uncle Elroy.\n\n CRAIG\n Stretch it out.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Don't move me.\n\n INT. JOK", "man... and when you finish with this cat,\n come inside. I got something to show\n you.\n\n CRAIG\n Thanks, Unc.\n\n Uncle Elroy starts towards to the house.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You know it's been over a year since we\n kicked it last? Up at the family\n reunion.\n\n CRAIG\n I know, that's when Uncle Elroy cussed\n out everybody, and threw up in Aunt\n Faye's backse", " MR. JONES (cont'd)\n Craig! Craig!\n\n Craig emerges from the house with his bags in hand.\n\n CRAIG\n (irritated)\n Here I come!\n\n MR. JONES\n (still mad)\n Well bring yo' ass on...\n\n Craig slams the door and starts towards the truck.\n\n CRAIG\n What's the matter?\n\n MR. JONES\n I fell in some mud. Now", "-hugs them.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Okay, okay, that's enough. Go put on\n some damn clothes.\n\n SUGA\n (pouting)\n Elroy.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Suga. Go ahead and get us something to\n smoke on.\n\n SUGA\n Okay.\n (winking)\n Bye, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Nice to meet you.\n\n Suga walks out.\n\n", ", Day-Day and\n Craig can live with me and my parents.\n 'Til you get back on yo' feet.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Thanks, Roach, but I can't accept that.\n We're moving back to Watts where it's\n safe.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Where's Craig?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n I don't know.\n\n MR. JONES\n That boy just don't never learn.\n\n EXT", "cont'd)\n Unc.\n\n Uncle Elroy jumps up like a hibernating grizzly.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n (half asleep)\n Come on here, Suga...\n\n He goes after Craig, who has to fight him off.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n I like it rough now.\n\n CRAIG\n Naw, naw! Unc, wake up! It's me! Wake\n up!\n\n ", "a\n certified mail delivery.\n\n He hands Craig a letter.\n\n DELIVERY GUY (cont'd)\n Sign here.\n\n Craig signs.\n\n CRAIG\n What is it?\n\n DELIVERY GUY\n Delinquent Property Tax Notice... I hope\n the Cracker Killers pay well 'cause if\n not, back to the ghetto you go. Wife\n stays here, of course.\n\n He laughs and walks off singing the \"", "BACK ON COUCH\n\n Craig is high. He's looking at the TV with a slight smile on\n his face. It seems like the walls are shaking. He looks\n over at Suga's glass and her wine is vibrating, like Jurassic\n Park. Plaster falls from the ceiling. He listens, it's\n Uncle Elroy and Suga making love.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (O.S.)\n Oh, baby, right there. Right\n there...bite the nip", "water has a purple condom floating in it. Uncle\n Elroy reaches over and picks it out.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n (shaking the water off the\n condom)\n You welcome get in it anytime you want\n to. Shit, you my brother's son.\n\n CRAIG\n That's okay, Unc. I can't swim, either.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Good.\n\n EXT. CRACK HOUSE -" ], [ "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", " DAY-DAY\n I know what 'cha thinking. I thought the\n same thing. But it can't happen.\n\n CRAIG\n Why?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Because, it's been a little tension\n between us ever since they got out the\n joint and ran their momma crazy. And I'm\n just trying to keep the peace. We moved\n out here to get away from that shit.\n\n Day-Day walks over to his Beamer. Craig follows.\n\n", "a is still walking.\n\n CRAIG\n Hey! Hey!\n\n She stops and waits for him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n I'm Day-Day's cousin, Craig. What's your\n name?\n\n KARLA\n Karla.\n\n CRAIG\n Craig and Karla, damn that sound pretty\n good together. Where you going?\n\n KARLA\n To the Cucamonga shopping center.\n\n ", "a turns around to check the door.\n\n KARLA\n You so nervous, I already locked this\n door.\n\n Craig drops a thick roll of money into her purse. She shakes\n the knob.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n See. All locked.\n\n She walks over to him. They're face-to-face.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n What's your hurry?\n\n CRAIG\n I got my cousin Day-", "D\n Day-Day, don't make me break this window!\n\n Craig is peeking out. He hesitates.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Watch out for Baby'D.\n\n Craig walks out the back. He steps over the door. Unlocks\n it, and cracks it open.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day ain't here.\n\n They don't believe him.\n\n D'WANA\n Who are you?\n\n CRAIG\n", "-DAY\n He's inside the house?\n\n ROACH\n Why did he go in the house?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Don't worry about it. We gotta figure\n out a way to get Craig out of there.\n He's probably getting tied up now.\n\n INT. KARLA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig is sweating. Karla is standing in front of him.\n\n KARLA\n You did all this for me?\n\n ", "'D\n Yo' cousin, Craig. Hook us up.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's it?\n\n BABY'D\n Just tell him to come over here and talk\n to me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n And I can go free?\n\n BABY'D\n Go, fo' I change my mind.\n\n Day-Day carefully walks back over towards the store. D'Wana\n pouts and walks towards Baby'D. (If looks could kill", ".)\n\n ROACH\n Great moves, Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n What happen?\n\n DAY-DAY\n We worked out a deal. All you gotta do\n is go over there and talk to Baby'D.\n\n Craig looks over at Baby'D. She's waiting.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean talk to her?\n\n ROACH\n (still smiling)\n You know what he mean, dude.\n\n CRAIG\n ", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "a long time now,\n Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Thanks for reminding me.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is left to look around, until something\n outside catches his eye.\n\n EXT. HOUSE\n\n It's D'WANA (20), Day-Day's six-month pregnant girlfriend.\n She's walking on the right side of his BMW. With one hand\n she waves at Craig...with the other hand she's keying Day-\n Day's car", "knocking?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Well, let me in.\n\n CRAIG\n Uncle Elroy, who's that girl by Day-Day's\n car?\n\n He looks.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Oh, that's D'Wana. His ex.\n (yelling upstairs)\n Day-Day, the crazy bitch is back!\n\n Day-Day runs down the stairs to get a look. He'", "\n\n DAY-DAY\n You damn right that's the big one.\n\n The PHONE starts to RING again. D'Wana and Baby'D are at the\n door. D'Wana is on her phone. Baby'D starts to knock.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Craig, go out there and tell 'em I'm\n gone.\n\n CRAIG\n I ain't trying to get in it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You already", "DAY-DAY\n $247.\n\n CRAIG\n Okay, plan B.\n\n Day-Day is overwhelmed. Roach skates back over.\n\n ROACH\n That was a girl on a cell phone. She\n said she's outside in the parking lot\n waiting for you to take her to lunch.\n\n Day-Day looks at Craig. He runs over to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE IN THE PARKING LOT\n\n D'Wana sits in her car with her play", " I'm his cousin.\n\n BABY'D\n You suppose to work here now or\n something?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I work here now.\n\n D'WANA\n We didn't come here for Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n Yes you did.\n\n D'WANA\n No we didn't. We came to buy a CD.\n\n BABY'D\n Now move.\n\n Baby'D kicks the", "(cont'd)\n I gotta get to Pinky's before I get fired\n like you.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is close behind.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n As they walk out the front door, someone catches Craig's eye.\n It's KARLA (23), the Joker brothers' fine sister. She's\n leaning against the lowrider, looking into her purse. She\n waves at them.\n", "got a stalker.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That ain't the worst part. Her little\n sister, Baby D. She's the one that gets\n real physical. But I got a restraining\n order on her, too.\n\n CRAIG\n You got a restraining order on a little\n girl named Baby D?\n\n DAY-DAY\n (very serious)\n You don't know Baby D.\n\n He looks at his watch.\n\n DAY-DAY", "\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I broke up with her two Fridays ago\n and she's been harassing me ever since.\n She don't care about the restraining\n order or nothing.\n\n CRAIG\n Restraining order? Where the hell you\n meet this girl?\n\n DAY-DAY\n I went back to Watts to sell my old car\n and met her on the way. Worst day of my\n life.\n\n CRAIG\n Damn, you", "\n\n CRAIG\n You go first.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Naw, you go first.\n\n CRAIG\n You go first.\n\n DAY-DAY\n No.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day, if you don't hop that fence\n I'mma throw you over.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I ain't scared of you. We ain't little\n no more.\n\n Day-Day gets ready to fight.\n\n " ], [ "I'm currently running the store.\n Can I see the CD?\n\n The customer throws the CD on the counter. Day-Day picks it\n up.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n No, give me my damn money back. Right\n now, and I don't have no damn receipt\n neither.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Okay, sir...but where's the cover?\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n I don't have no damn cover.\n\n Craig walks in with", "\n INT. DAY-DAY'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Day-Day's room is junky. Clothes are everywhere. He's\n putting on his Pinky's Records and Disc T-shirt. Craig comes\n in.\n\n CRAIG\n You straight?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I'm alright. Is my face still\n orange to you?\n\n Day-Day's face looks sunburned.\n\n CRAIG\n Just a", "know the\n story.\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n A sad moment.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Go on and make yourself at home. I'mma\n go get dressed for work.\n\n CRAIG\n Oh, yeah, where you work at?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Pinky's Records and Disc in the shopping\n center. I'mma talk to my boss and see if\n he got a little position for you. 'Cause\n you been unemployed for", "'D\n Yo' cousin, Craig. Hook us up.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's it?\n\n BABY'D\n Just tell him to come over here and talk\n to me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n And I can go free?\n\n BABY'D\n Go, fo' I change my mind.\n\n Day-Day carefully walks back over towards the store. D'Wana\n pouts and walks towards Baby'D. (If looks could kill", " DAY-DAY\n I know what 'cha thinking. I thought the\n same thing. But it can't happen.\n\n CRAIG\n Why?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Because, it's been a little tension\n between us ever since they got out the\n joint and ran their momma crazy. And I'm\n just trying to keep the peace. We moved\n out here to get away from that shit.\n\n Day-Day walks over to his Beamer. Craig follows.\n\n", " I'm his cousin.\n\n BABY'D\n You suppose to work here now or\n something?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I work here now.\n\n D'WANA\n We didn't come here for Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n Yes you did.\n\n D'WANA\n No we didn't. We came to buy a CD.\n\n BABY'D\n Now move.\n\n Baby'D kicks the", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", "A\n\n The mood is serious.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I gotta think of a plan to get this money\n before tomorrow.\n\n ROACH\n You could sell your Beamer.\n\n Day-Day gives Roach the evil-eye.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n My bad.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I don't know. I hope Craig got a good\n idea. We gotta ask him when he comes\n out. Let's go and clean up before", "TERNOON\n\n Cars pull in and out of this 12 store strip mall where\n Pinky's is located.\n\n INT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - AFTERNOON\n\n Everything is pink inside this mom and pop record store. The\n latest RAP HIT PLAYS in the B.G. A few people exit the store\n with bags.\n\n Day-Day is scanning inventory. A bud-head by the name of\n ROACH is on top of the counter with his", ". PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n DAY-DAY\n What was that?\n\n ROACH\n (looking out window)\n You don't wanna know.\n\n Day-Day is devastated.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Thanks a lot, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n I know we cousins and all, but don't try\n an' hook me up with the big little\n sisters.\n\n DAY-DAY", "DAY-DAY\n $247.\n\n CRAIG\n Okay, plan B.\n\n Day-Day is overwhelmed. Roach skates back over.\n\n ROACH\n That was a girl on a cell phone. She\n said she's outside in the parking lot\n waiting for you to take her to lunch.\n\n Day-Day looks at Craig. He runs over to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE IN THE PARKING LOT\n\n D'Wana sits in her car with her play", ".)\n\n ROACH\n Great moves, Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n What happen?\n\n DAY-DAY\n We worked out a deal. All you gotta do\n is go over there and talk to Baby'D.\n\n Craig looks over at Baby'D. She's waiting.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean talk to her?\n\n ROACH\n (still smiling)\n You know what he mean, dude.\n\n CRAIG\n ", "the notice in hand.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I can't give you your damn money back on\n this.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n Bullshit! I'll go postal in this\n mothafucka!\n\n DAY-DAY\n Well, you gonna have to go postal then.\n\n The customer KNOCKS over a counter display and then turns to\n get away.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey!\n\n Craig bumps", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "I'm gone.\n\n Craig turns and sprints into the store. Baby'D looks\n concerned. Day-Day grabs Roach and they run into the store.\n\n BABY'D\n I'mma get you, Day-Day! You gotta come\n out sometimes!\n\n D'Wana hands her a brick.\n\n D'WANA\n I told you.\n\n Baby'D screams and throws the brick through Day-Day's\n WINDSHIELD.\n\n INT", "towards the storage room.\n\n CRAIG\n Where you going?\n\n D'WANA\n Ain't the rest room this way? I gotta\n pee.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah.\n\n D'WANA\n Thank you.\n\n As she's walking in the back, Roach realizes his mistake.\n\n BACK STORAGE AREA\n\n DAY-DAY\n Shit.\n\n Day-Day makes a run for it. She spots", "back to the house.\n\n MISS HO KYM\n See you later, Day-Day. Come by after\n work, I got the John Blaze shit for you.\n\n CRAIG\n Nice to meet you?\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Peace out, Craig.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day and Craig enter the house. They still have the\n furniture from the projects. Craig looks around. He spots\n", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", "D\n Day-Day, don't make me break this window!\n\n Craig is peeking out. He hesitates.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Watch out for Baby'D.\n\n Craig walks out the back. He steps over the door. Unlocks\n it, and cracks it open.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day ain't here.\n\n They don't believe him.\n\n D'WANA\n Who are you?\n\n CRAIG\n" ], [ "Pinky\n gets here.\n\n ROACH\n Maybe you can ask him to loan you the\n money.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yoooo, that's it. You ain't as dumb as I\n think you are, Roach.\n\n ROACH\n I know.\n\n BACK INSIDE STORE\n\n Pinky and Craig are still scrambling for the gun. The store\n looks like a tornado hit it. Twice. Craig comes up with the\n pistol", "Just take it all.\n\n Just then, Day-Day and Roach come from the back.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Craig, what the hell are you doing?\n\n CRAIG\n Nothing.\n\n PINKY\n Day-Day, is this your cousin?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah.\n\n PINKY\n Good. You fired...and, Roach, your fired\n too.\n\n ROACH\n Why me?\n\n PINKY\n ", "TERNOON\n\n Cars pull in and out of this 12 store strip mall where\n Pinky's is located.\n\n INT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - AFTERNOON\n\n Everything is pink inside this mom and pop record store. The\n latest RAP HIT PLAYS in the B.G. A few people exit the store\n with bags.\n\n Day-Day is scanning inventory. A bud-head by the name of\n ROACH is on top of the counter with his", "DAY-DAY\n Out the door and to the left.\n\n ROACH\n I thought the vacuum would work.\n\n IN HALLWAY\n\n Craig makes a left and grabs the knob. He feels something\n pressing on the back of his head (gun).\n\n PINKY\n (whispering)\n Don't move or I'll blow your head smooth\n off.\n\n Craig throws his hands up.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Now back up slowly...", "\n Big bitches need love, too, Craig.\n\n ROACH\n For sure. That's how I like 'em.\n\n CRAIG\n Not me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Are they still out there?\n\n ROACH\n Negative...they vamped.\n\n Day-Day starts to walk into the back storage area.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Shouldn't we straighten up out here\n before Pinky gets back?\n\n Day-Day", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "door. Craig has no choice but to let 'em\n in.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's that boy that told me Day-Day was\n here?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know... I think he went out the\n back.\n\n D'WANA\n Can I look for myself?\n\n Suddenly Roach is pushed into the front area.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, ladies.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's Day-Day?", ". PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n DAY-DAY\n What was that?\n\n ROACH\n (looking out window)\n You don't wanna know.\n\n Day-Day is devastated.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Thanks a lot, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n I know we cousins and all, but don't try\n an' hook me up with the big little\n sisters.\n\n DAY-DAY", "towards the storage room.\n\n CRAIG\n Where you going?\n\n D'WANA\n Ain't the rest room this way? I gotta\n pee.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah.\n\n D'WANA\n Thank you.\n\n As she's walking in the back, Roach realizes his mistake.\n\n BACK STORAGE AREA\n\n DAY-DAY\n Shit.\n\n Day-Day makes a run for it. She spots", "IG (V.O.)\n In a strange way, I feel responsible for\n Day-Day getting fired. If I wouldn't\n have fought Pinky, and gave Day-Day the\n joint, he'd still have a job.\n\n Day-Day walks into the house while Craig and Roach stay out\n on the porch.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - UPSTAIRS - MONTAGE SEQUENCE\n\n Uncle Elroy opens his bedroom door wearing a S&M mask and\n holding a", "him ducking out the\n back door.\n\n D'WANA\n He's in there!\n\n INSIDE STORE\n\n Baby'D knocks Craig out of the way.\n\n BABY'D\n Where is he?\n\n D'WANA\n He ran out the door.\n\n Baby'D gives chase with D'Wana, Craig and Roach close behind.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS", "looks\n around making sure no one sneaks up on him. He reaches under\n his shirt and pulls out a Glock 9mm. Sticks his key in the\n door and steps in.\n\n BACK STORE AREA - CLOSE UP - ROACH\n\n is upside down. All the blood has rushed to his head. He\n has Chinaman eyes and a big smile on his face.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Roach, what are you doing?\n\n ROACH\n R-U", ")\n You ain't got no gun, but where's the\n weed at? I smell it.\n\n Craig says nothing.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I'mma tie you ass up!\n\n Pinky backs up and steps on Roach's skateboard. The gun goes\n flying and so does he. Pinky falls on his ass. The 9mm\n lands in front of Craig. There's a big scramble for the gun.\n\n BACK STORAGE ARE", "I'm gone.\n\n Craig turns and sprints into the store. Baby'D looks\n concerned. Day-Day grabs Roach and they run into the store.\n\n BABY'D\n I'mma get you, Day-Day! You gotta come\n out sometimes!\n\n D'Wana hands her a brick.\n\n D'WANA\n I told you.\n\n Baby'D screams and throws the brick through Day-Day's\n WINDSHIELD.\n\n INT", "Glock in yo'\n ass! What did you do wit Day-Day and\n Roach?\n\n CRAIG\n Man, Day-Day is my people!\n\n PINKY\n I said shut up! Now who sent you?\n\n CRAIG\n Nobody!\n\n PINKY\n If you say another word, it's over. I'm\n not playing!\n\n Pinky starts to pat down Craig's pockets.\n\n PINKY (cont'd", "body is helpless. We\n can hear SIRENS getting CLOSER and CLOSER. Suddenly, out of\n nowhere...\n\n CHEECO!\n\n The pitbull is back! And he's mad as hell. He runs through\n everybody and jumps on Debo, knocking the gun from his hand.\n Craig and Day-Day jump on Debo. Roach WHISTLES, and Cheeco\n stops his attack on Debo.\n\n Cheeco runs over to Roach and jumps in his", "of his ears. Craig and Day-Day get a kick out of\n that.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n A pink limo pulls to a stop. The chauffeur gets out wearing\n his suit just a little too tight. He opens the door and a\n pair of pink boots hit the pavement. The CAMERA PANS UP TO\n PINKY (35), the asshole owner.\n\n PINKY\n Look", "\n INT. DAY-DAY'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Day-Day's room is junky. Clothes are everywhere. He's\n putting on his Pinky's Records and Disc T-shirt. Craig comes\n in.\n\n CRAIG\n You straight?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I'm alright. Is my face still\n orange to you?\n\n Day-Day's face looks sunburned.\n\n CRAIG\n Just a", ". Pinky jumps on the ground.\n\n PINKY\n Don't kill me.\n\n Craig is exhausted. He stands over Pinky with the gun.\n\n CRAIG\n Shut up. I been trying to tell yo' ass\n that... Day-Day is my cousin. They're\n right there in the back.\n\n PINKY\n Whatever you say, man. I didn't see\n shit. The safe combination is 34-5-27.\n ", "ER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is pissed.\n\n JOKER\n Where are these fucking guys?\n\n He storms out the room. Day-Day and Roach try to escape.\n They flap around on the ground like a fish out of water.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n The back door flies open. Joker appears with the AK-47 in\n hand. He spots Uncle El" ], [ ".\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, Roach, see you around.\n\n CRAIG\n Sorry about today, man.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah, me too. Later.\n\n He attempts to jump off the porch with his board and lands\n dead on his ass once again. His board continues to roll.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, sit down. I can't think with you\n falling everywhere.\n\n His board continues to roll into the street. At this same\n", " time, Joker's low-rider rolls by and breaks his board in two.\n Roach runs to pick up the pieces.\n\n ROACH\n My board!\n\n The Joker Bros. back their low-rider into the driveway. They\n have no sympathy. Cheeco (the pitbull) is in the back yard.\n He's happy to see them.\n\n They stroll into the house with three Mexican girls with\n them. Joker spots our trio looking.\n\n J", "skateboard.\n\n ROACH\n Yo, Day-Day! Check me out.\n\n He tries to jump off the counter and land perfectly on his\n board. Wrong! Off the board and on his ass.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Look, Roach, I know you ain't never\n worked in a record shop before and you're\n a little excited. But if Pinky catches\n you doing that X-Games shit off his\n counter top, we both getting fired. You\n", "EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S PORCH - MONTAGE SEQUENCE - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Craig, Day-Day and Roach are sitting on the porch thinking.\n\n DAY-DAY\n What we gonna do?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know yet.\n\n ROACH\n I know what I'mma do. Go home and face\n the music. My dad is gonna kick my ass\n for getting fired again.\n\n He gets on his skateboard", "OKER\n What the fuck you looking at?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Nothing.\n\n ROACH\n You ran over my board!\n\n JOKER\n So what? It shouldn't have been in the\n street.\n\n They disappear into the house.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n Craig has a twinkle in his eyes and Roach walks over, pissed.\n\n ROACH\n Who the fuck is that, Day-Day?\n\n DAY-DAY\n ", "\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Cheeco's got to be the dumbest fuckin'\n mutt in the whole wide U.S.A.\n\n CHEECO is running at Roach full speed. He jumps on the fence\n and starts to BARK with everything he's got. Roach drops the\n baloney.\n\n CRAIG AND DAY-DAY\n\n ...hear the DOG BARKING and freeze in their tracks. Day-Day\n tries to run. Craig", ", no problem. We gone.\n\n ROACH\n Hold on. A man, you broke my fuckin'\n board and I don't appreciate it.\n\n Immediately Day-Day and Roach are snatched inside the house,\n and the door is SLAMMED.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Mr. Jones' dog truck pulls to a stop. He gets out and runs\n to the house. He KNOCKS. Uncle Elroy", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "Let it go, Roach, trust me.\n\n ROACH\n I'm not letting nothing go. They killed\n my board.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go!\n\n Craig is looking over at the Joker's house. Baby Joker walks\n out the front door. He walks over to the rider and POPS the\n TRUNK.\n\n CRAIG\n Wait. Check'em out.\n\n Baby Joker pulls out a chrome hydraulic pump. ", "door. Craig has no choice but to let 'em\n in.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's that boy that told me Day-Day was\n here?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know... I think he went out the\n back.\n\n D'WANA\n Can I look for myself?\n\n Suddenly Roach is pushed into the front area.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, ladies.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's Day-Day?", "\n fence. No sign of Cheeco. Roach opens the pack of baloney\n and pulls out a slice.\n\n ROACH\n (nervous whisper)\n Here, Cheeco. Chee-co, here boy. That's\n a good boy.\n\n It's pitch-black behind the fence, still no Cheeco.\n\n PARKED CAR - SAME TIME\n\n Craig makes a move.\n\n CRAIG\n Come on, he should have'em by", "DAY-DAY\n $247.\n\n CRAIG\n Okay, plan B.\n\n Day-Day is overwhelmed. Roach skates back over.\n\n ROACH\n That was a girl on a cell phone. She\n said she's outside in the parking lot\n waiting for you to take her to lunch.\n\n Day-Day looks at Craig. He runs over to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE IN THE PARKING LOT\n\n D'Wana sits in her car with her play", "-DAY\n Fuuuuuuck -- U!\n\n He runs back towards his BMW. The chase continues around his\n car. Baby'D is starting to tire.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n I'mma shoot yo' big ass.\n\n D'Wana watches from a distance. Craig and Roach are close.\n\n ROACH\n (smiling)\n She moves well for a big girl.\n\n Just then, out of nowhere, Karla appears behind them carrying\n a couple", "Thanks for the help.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, man, the pleasure's all mine.\n Thanks for the dog, and the money. Maybe\n my dad won't kick my ass tonight.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Call me.\n\n ROACH\n Okay, later, bro. Hey, Craig, nice\n smokin' wit'cha.\n\n CRAIG\n You too.\n\n MR. JONES\n Smokin' what?\n\n CRA", "towards the storage room.\n\n CRAIG\n Where you going?\n\n D'WANA\n Ain't the rest room this way? I gotta\n pee.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah.\n\n D'WANA\n Thank you.\n\n As she's walking in the back, Roach realizes his mistake.\n\n BACK STORAGE AREA\n\n DAY-DAY\n Shit.\n\n Day-Day makes a run for it. She spots", ")\n You ain't got no gun, but where's the\n weed at? I smell it.\n\n Craig says nothing.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I'mma tie you ass up!\n\n Pinky backs up and steps on Roach's skateboard. The gun goes\n flying and so does he. Pinky falls on his ass. The 9mm\n lands in front of Craig. There's a big scramble for the gun.\n\n BACK STORAGE ARE", "him and he falls into the Rap cassette rack.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n I'm sorry! Don't hit me! Don't hit me.\n\n He jumps up and slips on a few more cassettes on his scramble\n out the door.\n\n DAY-DAY\n ...and if you come back, it's gonna be\n worse.\n\n Roach can't believe what just happened.\n\n ROACH\n Did you see that? That was a W", "him ducking out the\n back door.\n\n D'WANA\n He's in there!\n\n INSIDE STORE\n\n Baby'D knocks Craig out of the way.\n\n BABY'D\n Where is he?\n\n D'WANA\n He ran out the door.\n\n Baby'D gives chase with D'Wana, Craig and Roach close behind.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS", "looks\n around making sure no one sneaks up on him. He reaches under\n his shirt and pulls out a Glock 9mm. Sticks his key in the\n door and steps in.\n\n BACK STORE AREA - CLOSE UP - ROACH\n\n is upside down. All the blood has rushed to his head. He\n has Chinaman eyes and a big smile on his face.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Roach, what are you doing?\n\n ROACH\n R-U", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle" ], [ "\n It's something in that hydraulic pump.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, air.\n\n CRAIG\n Naw. I bet'cha it's something better\n than air.\n\n DAY-DAY\n How you know? It could be anything.\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know, and it could be anything.\n But I just say we go take a look.\n\n ROACH\n I say we go over there and kick their\n ass", "Let it go, Roach, trust me.\n\n ROACH\n I'm not letting nothing go. They killed\n my board.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go!\n\n Craig is looking over at the Joker's house. Baby Joker walks\n out the front door. He walks over to the rider and POPS the\n TRUNK.\n\n CRAIG\n Wait. Check'em out.\n\n Baby Joker pulls out a chrome hydraulic pump. ", ". JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps out of Joker's front door carrying the chrome\n hydraulic pump.\n\n CRAIG\n I love Fridays.\n\n He walks past the cops and crosses the street.\n\n ROACH\n There he go.\n\n MR. JONES\n What the hell is he carrying?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Property taxes, and a new candy-apple\n paint job.\n\n They greet", "m about to go\n home.\n\n Craig grabs Day-Day again.\n\n CRAIG\n Look, Day-Day. If we don't go over there\n and take a look, this might be the last\n night you got a home. Now trust me.\n\n Day-Day realizes that Craig is right. He takes a deep breath.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Now all we gotta do is find out where the\n little one put that pump. Take it and\n see what'", "The Pretty Girl moves off Joker's lap.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Take it in the room.\n\n Baby Joker carries the pump in the bedroom. Joker is close\n behind. He SLAMS the DOOR. The Girl dancing with Li'l Joker\n gets too nosy.\n\n GIRL #1\n What was that?\n\n LI'L JOKER\n What was what?\n\n GIRL #1\n That silver thing.\n\n ", "He carries it\n towards the house. Cheeco starts to hump his leg.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Get down.\n\n Baby Joker drops the pump, something falls out. (We can't\n see what it is.) Baby Joker quickly puts it back.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n CRAIG\n You see that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n I didn't see nothing.\n\n ROACH\n Me neither.\n\n CRAIG", " CRAIG\n That pump was full of money. I saw where\n they put it. Stay right here, I'mma\n climb in and go get it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Wait here? So Cheeco can bite my ass\n off? Tell me where it is I'll do it.\n\n CRAIG\n No, man, just wait.\n\n Craig climbs in the window. Day-Day holds his stomach.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I got the B-G", "Everybody looks confused.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Who locked this fuckin' door?!\n\n Joker starts to kick the door.\n\n INSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig hurries to put the pump back. He's about to go for the\n window when: BANG! There's a KICK on the door. All Craig\n can do is go for another door on the other side of the room.\n BANG! The door", " The bedroom door is cracked. Craig walks over\n and shuts the door gently. He locks it. Then he creeps over\n to the dresser. He pulls out the pump and sets it on the\n bed. He opens it, revealing all the bundled-up money packed\n in. He starts to stuff it in his pockets.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is trying to keep his composure.\n\n INT. DEN", "in it.\n\n CRAIG\n It's cool, but where's the water?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Don't need water. We didn't have no pool\n in the projects...so none of us swim.\n\n CRAIG\n Y'all never use it?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Never...\n (humping the air)\n But me and Suga can get real nasty in\n that Jacuzzi, though.\n\n The Jacuzzi", "EDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n The chrome pump is open and filled with money. Baby Joker's\n pulling out the money while Joker sits on the bed counting\n it. They stop when they hear CHEECO BARKING.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Want me to take a look?\n\n JOKER\n No, keep working.\n\n In the mirror behind Joker, we see a stick slide through the\n curtain. The curtain cracks just enough to see Craig", "\n\n JOKER\n I'll take you later.\n\n KARLA\n When? After you get all drunk and\n loaded?\n\n JOKER\n Hey! I said I'll take your fuckin' ass\n later. Now get out of here. You're\n scaring our company.\n\n Karla storms out the room. Baby Joker walks in carrying the\n chrome pump.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Get up.\n\n ", " Debo is a hard fit. Ezal stuffs him in there.\n\n EZAL\n You too big.\n\n DEBO\n Keep pushing.\n\n Finally he's in. Ezal gets in and slams the door shut. Just\n then, Mr. Jones comes running out the joint with a sandwich\n in hand.\n\n MR. JONES\n Oh my God!\n\n He gets in and speeds off.\n\n EXT. CUCAMONGA SHOPPING CENTER - AF", "its the freeway. He pulls into a gas station\n by the freeway. He stops near the restrooms and jumps out,\n air freshner in hand. When he gets to the door, it's locked.\n\n MR. JONES\n Damn.\n\n He knocks.\n\n MR. JONES (cont'd)\n Say, man, hurry up. We got an emergency\n out here.\n\n No answer. Mr. Jones paces nervously.\n\n MR. J", " I do.\n\n MR. JONES\n What it smell like?\n\n CRAIG\n Smells like you didn't fall in no mud.\n\n Mr. Jones grabs the air freshener from under the seat. He\n starts to spray too much. Craig's window won't roll down.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What's wrong with the window?\n\n MR. JONES\n I gotta get'em fixed. They don't roll\n ", "-S-H Intensely.\n\n A big cloud of smoke rolls out of his mouth and he falls and\n hits the deck.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n My spleen.\n\n Craig and Day-Day laugh at Roach. The VACUUM is still GOING\n but the room is very smoky. Craig jumps in.\n\n CRAIG\n (unplugging the vacuum)\n This vacuum don't work. Where's the\n restroom?\n\n ", "-Day tries to turn around. Craig grabs him.\n\n CRAIG\n It's about to work, just come on.\n\n ROACH\n (about to bite baloney)\n What about the dog?\n\n Craig slaps the baloney out of his hand.\n\n CRAIG\n That's what the baloney's for!\n\n All three kneel down next to a parked car. Day-Day looks\n sick.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, I don'", " The yellow truck speeds off.\n\n Debo jumps up staggering with scrapes and bruises.\n\n DEBO\n You know I'mma find you! You can run ya'\n can't hide!\n\n BACK IN CAR - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig screams out the window.\n\n CRAIG\n You fake ass Suge Knight!\n\n Mr. Jones is a bit shaken up.\n\n MR. JONES\n That nigga worst than them damn pit\n", "looks\n around making sure no one sneaks up on him. He reaches under\n his shirt and pulls out a Glock 9mm. Sticks his key in the\n door and steps in.\n\n BACK STORE AREA - CLOSE UP - ROACH\n\n is upside down. All the blood has rushed to his head. He\n has Chinaman eyes and a big smile on his face.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Roach, what are you doing?\n\n ROACH\n R-U", " CRAIG\n That ain't gonna work.\n\n ROACH\n Fuck yeah.\n\n Day-Day hits the 'J and blows into the nozzle. It quickly\n sucks up the smoke.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (passing the 'J)\n It works.\n\n CRAIG\n Still gonna smell it.\n\n ROACH\n No way. Watch this.\n\n Roach hits the joint harder than anyone else. Smoke starts\n to come out" ], [ "flies open and Craig is out there just in\n time.\n\n JOKER\n I don't want no doors locked around here.\n You hear me?\n\n Joker walks in and hits the lights. He throws the girl on\n the bed.\n\n GIRL #2\n Oh, poppy, I like it rough.\n\n JOKER\n (taking off shirt)\n Good, 'cause that's how you gonna get it.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE -", "K. Li'l Joker is in the corner\n with his girl, and Baby Joker is on the floor. Joker TURNS\n DOWN THE STEREO.\n\n JOKER\n You fuckin' lover boys hear that?\n\n BABY JOKER\n Hear what?\n\n The KNOCKING continues. Li'l Joker and Baby Joker push the\n girls aside and jump up. Li'l Joker grabs a big knife. Baby\n Joker grabs a ", "Everybody looks confused.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Who locked this fuckin' door?!\n\n Joker starts to kick the door.\n\n INSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig hurries to put the pump back. He's about to go for the\n window when: BANG! There's a KICK on the door. All Craig\n can do is go for another door on the other side of the room.\n BANG! The door", "arms. Roach's\n being licked to death by the pitbull.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Finally you got a bitch, huh, Roach?\n\n ROACH\n He's a boy, dude.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Out front, three sheriff cars swoop into the driveway. The\n cops jump out, guns drawn.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUO", "to cry. Roach tries to scream through the\n tape. Joker turns to Li'l Joker.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Go see what's taking him so long.\n\n Li'l Joker obeys. We FOLLOW Li'l Joker THROUGH the house and\n OUT the back door.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n Li'l Joker stands at the back door.\n\n LI'", " The bedroom door is cracked. Craig walks over\n and shuts the door gently. He locks it. Then he creeps over\n to the dresser. He pulls out the pump and sets it on the\n bed. He opens it, revealing all the bundled-up money packed\n in. He starts to stuff it in his pockets.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is trying to keep his composure.\n\n INT. DEN", " Get the duct tape.\n (to Li'l Joker)\n You know what to do.\n\n Li'l Joker turns to the girls.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Put your clothes back on.\n\n The scared Girls start to dress.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Karla backs up the rider and she's out. The Joker house\n looks quiet. Then the door opens and three Girls walk out.\n\n LI'L J", "L JOKER\n Junior?! Junior?!\n\n No answer. Suddenly he spots something over by the shed.\n It's Baby Joker all ties up.\n\n LI'L JOKER (cont'd)\n What the...\n\n He runs to the rescue. But right before he gets to him,\n Uncle Elroy jumps out the bushes and takes him. \"Ronnie Lott\n Style.\" Mr. Jones steps in with the stick. Craig steps in\n with the rope, and it's over", "'S STILL GROWLING. Suddenly Cheeco falls back on his\n butt and lets out a slight moan.\n\n CHEECO'S POV\n\n Cheeco is looking up at Roach. He's seeing double, even\n triple. Cheeco lays down. It looks like he's faded.\n\n ROACH\n No lungs, baby. No lungs.\n\n INSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig is in.", "\n Uncle Elroy falls off the fence.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Damn.\n\n Craig & Mr. Jones helps him up. They creep over to the\n window - the shades are pulled down.\n\n CRAIG\n I'm not sure, but I think they're in this\n room.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is getting tired of the games. And Day-Day is pleading\n", "real soft. Too soft.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n No one's gonna hear that. The music's\n playing.\n\n DAY-DAY\n 'Scuse me, partner, but that's a ghetto\n knock.\n\n ROACH\n This is a knock.\n\n Roach starts to kick on the door with his foot. It's very\n loud.\n\n INT. DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker storms in with the A", "em, Craig!\n\n ROACH\n Bite his ear!\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What 'em! Watch 'em!\n\n Joker takes a few more shots from Craig, then grabs Craig\n around the waist and slams him to the ground. Craig is hurt.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Get off yo' back, Craig!\n\n Craig struggles with Joker, who now has the devil in his\n eyes.\n\n CRAIG\n Ya'll", "EDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n The chrome pump is open and filled with money. Baby Joker's\n pulling out the money while Joker sits on the bed counting\n it. They stop when they hear CHEECO BARKING.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Want me to take a look?\n\n JOKER\n No, keep working.\n\n In the mirror behind Joker, we see a stick slide through the\n curtain. The curtain cracks just enough to see Craig", ".\n\n LI'L JOKER\n I heard a voice.\n\n KARLA\n No you didn't. Get out my room. Go back\n down to your little girlfriends.\n\n Karla pushes Li'l Joker out.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is having a fit.\n\n GIRL #2 (O.S.)\n Shut the window.\n\n JOK", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle", " They both start to go nuts on the door.\n\n OUTSIDE\n\n The dog truck is shaking like crazy.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n Baby Joker walks out the back door. He stops in the middle\n of the yard.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Cheeco! Cheeco! Here, boy!\n\n No Cheeco. He continues to a shed in the back yard. He goes\n inside and picks up", "ER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is pissed.\n\n JOKER\n Where are these fucking guys?\n\n He storms out the room. Day-Day and Roach try to escape.\n They flap around on the ground like a fish out of water.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n The back door flies open. Joker appears with the AK-47 in\n hand. He spots Uncle El", " for his life.\n\n JOKER\n Tape his mouth shut.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Joker, a man like yourself can do a lot\n for this community. By letting us go,\n you can improve black and brown\n relations.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah, brown and white relations, too.\n\n Day-Day looks at Roach.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Boy, you gonna get us killed.\n\n Li'l Joker grabs Day-Day and tapes his", "s Friday.\n\n Joker walks over to Roach and kicks him in the mouth.\n\n JOKER\n I'm hearing a lot of talking, but I'm not\n hearing the right words.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Maybe the other guy took it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Why would he take it? He don't even know\n you.\n\n JOKER\n (thinking)\n Shut up! Where's that other miyatea?", "an AK-\n 47.\n\n JOKER\n (smiling)\n Say hello to my little friend.\n\n BOOM!\n\n Debo hits Joker from the back. Joker is out cold.\n\n DEBO\n No way, Jose. This one is mine.\n\n Ezal picks up the gun and hands it to Debo.\n\n DEBO (cont'd)\n Hi, Craig, remember me?\n\n Craig knows he can't fight a gun. Every" ], [ " The bedroom door is cracked. Craig walks over\n and shuts the door gently. He locks it. Then he creeps over\n to the dresser. He pulls out the pump and sets it on the\n bed. He opens it, revealing all the bundled-up money packed\n in. He starts to stuff it in his pockets.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is trying to keep his composure.\n\n INT. DEN", "Let it go, Roach, trust me.\n\n ROACH\n I'm not letting nothing go. They killed\n my board.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go!\n\n Craig is looking over at the Joker's house. Baby Joker walks\n out the front door. He walks over to the rider and POPS the\n TRUNK.\n\n CRAIG\n Wait. Check'em out.\n\n Baby Joker pulls out a chrome hydraulic pump. ", " CRAIG\n That pump was full of money. I saw where\n they put it. Stay right here, I'mma\n climb in and go get it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Wait here? So Cheeco can bite my ass\n off? Tell me where it is I'll do it.\n\n CRAIG\n No, man, just wait.\n\n Craig climbs in the window. Day-Day holds his stomach.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I got the B-G", ". JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps out of Joker's front door carrying the chrome\n hydraulic pump.\n\n CRAIG\n I love Fridays.\n\n He walks past the cops and crosses the street.\n\n ROACH\n There he go.\n\n MR. JONES\n What the hell is he carrying?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Property taxes, and a new candy-apple\n paint job.\n\n They greet", "\n It's something in that hydraulic pump.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, air.\n\n CRAIG\n Naw. I bet'cha it's something better\n than air.\n\n DAY-DAY\n How you know? It could be anything.\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know, and it could be anything.\n But I just say we go take a look.\n\n ROACH\n I say we go over there and kick their\n ass", "m about to go\n home.\n\n Craig grabs Day-Day again.\n\n CRAIG\n Look, Day-Day. If we don't go over there\n and take a look, this might be the last\n night you got a home. Now trust me.\n\n Day-Day realizes that Craig is right. He takes a deep breath.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Now all we gotta do is find out where the\n little one put that pump. Take it and\n see what'", "He carries it\n towards the house. Cheeco starts to hump his leg.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Get down.\n\n Baby Joker drops the pump, something falls out. (We can't\n see what it is.) Baby Joker quickly puts it back.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n CRAIG\n You see that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n I didn't see nothing.\n\n ROACH\n Me neither.\n\n CRAIG", "Everybody looks confused.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Who locked this fuckin' door?!\n\n Joker starts to kick the door.\n\n INSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig hurries to put the pump back. He's about to go for the\n window when: BANG! There's a KICK on the door. All Craig\n can do is go for another door on the other side of the room.\n BANG! The door", "a turns around to check the door.\n\n KARLA\n You so nervous, I already locked this\n door.\n\n Craig drops a thick roll of money into her purse. She shakes\n the knob.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n See. All locked.\n\n She walks over to him. They're face-to-face.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n What's your hurry?\n\n CRAIG\n I got my cousin Day-", "EDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n The chrome pump is open and filled with money. Baby Joker's\n pulling out the money while Joker sits on the bed counting\n it. They stop when they hear CHEECO BARKING.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Want me to take a look?\n\n JOKER\n No, keep working.\n\n In the mirror behind Joker, we see a stick slide through the\n curtain. The curtain cracks just enough to see Craig", "and tries to hurry out the room. On his\n exit, he hangs himself on the \"fuck swing\" and hits the floor\n with a thud. He scrambles to his feet, then he's out of\n there. Uncle Elroy and Suga lay asleep as if nothing ever\n happened.\n\n IN HALLWAY\n\n Craig tries to gain his composure. He gets an idea.\n\n EXT. BUSY CITY STREET - AFTERNOON\n\n Debo is riding Ezal on the handle", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", ".\n\n Craig climbs out the window. He loses his footing and free\n falls into some bushes.\n\n KARLA\n You alright?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I'm cool. See you later.\n\n He runs past a sleeping Cheeco and hops the fence. Free at\n last. He's about to run back across the street when he sees\n the dog truck.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What is he doing here?\n\n", "Pinky\n gets here.\n\n ROACH\n Maybe you can ask him to loan you the\n money.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yoooo, that's it. You ain't as dumb as I\n think you are, Roach.\n\n ROACH\n I know.\n\n BACK INSIDE STORE\n\n Pinky and Craig are still scrambling for the gun. The store\n looks like a tornado hit it. Twice. Craig comes up with the\n pistol", "ON CRAIG JONES\n\n the doctor of this delicate operation.\n\n CRAIG (V.O.)\n Soon as my pops found out what Debo said\n to Ezal, he wanted me to move with my\n uncle and little cousin in Rancho\n Cucamonga. Til' things calm down, or\n Debo went back to prison. Whichever\n comes first.\n\n He's sitting on the toilet (dressed: not using it) putting\n the finishing touches on his masterpiece.", "ple, baby. Bite it!\n Bite it! Yeah, mothafucka -- yeah, come\n on, baby, get busy...\n\n His eavesdropping is interrupted by a loud KNOCK on the door.\n Craig is so comfortable, he doesn't want to move. The\n KNOCKING gets LOUDER.\n\n DELIVERY GUY (O.S.)\n Delivery!\n\n CRAIG\n Hold on.\n\n Craig gets up slowly and starts to clean", "Thanks for the help.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, man, the pleasure's all mine.\n Thanks for the dog, and the money. Maybe\n my dad won't kick my ass tonight.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Call me.\n\n ROACH\n Okay, later, bro. Hey, Craig, nice\n smokin' wit'cha.\n\n CRAIG\n You too.\n\n MR. JONES\n Smokin' what?\n\n CRA", " I do.\n\n MR. JONES\n What it smell like?\n\n CRAIG\n Smells like you didn't fall in no mud.\n\n Mr. Jones grabs the air freshener from under the seat. He\n starts to spray too much. Craig's window won't roll down.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What's wrong with the window?\n\n MR. JONES\n I gotta get'em fixed. They don't roll\n ", "A\n\n The mood is serious.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I gotta think of a plan to get this money\n before tomorrow.\n\n ROACH\n You could sell your Beamer.\n\n Day-Day gives Roach the evil-eye.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n My bad.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I don't know. I hope Craig got a good\n idea. We gotta ask him when he comes\n out. Let's go and clean up before", ")\n You ain't got no gun, but where's the\n weed at? I smell it.\n\n Craig says nothing.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I'mma tie you ass up!\n\n Pinky backs up and steps on Roach's skateboard. The gun goes\n flying and so does he. Pinky falls on his ass. The 9mm\n lands in front of Craig. There's a big scramble for the gun.\n\n BACK STORAGE ARE" ], [ " I'm his cousin.\n\n BABY'D\n You suppose to work here now or\n something?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I work here now.\n\n D'WANA\n We didn't come here for Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n Yes you did.\n\n D'WANA\n No we didn't. We came to buy a CD.\n\n BABY'D\n Now move.\n\n Baby'D kicks the", ". PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n DAY-DAY\n What was that?\n\n ROACH\n (looking out window)\n You don't wanna know.\n\n Day-Day is devastated.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Thanks a lot, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n I know we cousins and all, but don't try\n an' hook me up with the big little\n sisters.\n\n DAY-DAY", "know the\n story.\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n A sad moment.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Go on and make yourself at home. I'mma\n go get dressed for work.\n\n CRAIG\n Oh, yeah, where you work at?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Pinky's Records and Disc in the shopping\n center. I'mma talk to my boss and see if\n he got a little position for you. 'Cause\n you been unemployed for", "a turns around to check the door.\n\n KARLA\n You so nervous, I already locked this\n door.\n\n Craig drops a thick roll of money into her purse. She shakes\n the knob.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n See. All locked.\n\n She walks over to him. They're face-to-face.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n What's your hurry?\n\n CRAIG\n I got my cousin Day-", "cousin, Craig.\n\n ROACH\n What up, bro?\n\n Craig nods his head.\n\n CRAIG\n I tried to wake up Uncle Elroy but he\n thought I was Suga.\n\n Day-Day reads the notice.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You know what this is?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, that's why I walked down here.\n\n ROACH\n What it say?\n\n Day-Day ignores Roach.\n\n DAY", "a is still walking.\n\n CRAIG\n Hey! Hey!\n\n She stops and waits for him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n I'm Day-Day's cousin, Craig. What's your\n name?\n\n KARLA\n Karla.\n\n CRAIG\n Craig and Karla, damn that sound pretty\n good together. Where you going?\n\n KARLA\n To the Cucamonga shopping center.\n\n ", "I'm currently running the store.\n Can I see the CD?\n\n The customer throws the CD on the counter. Day-Day picks it\n up.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n No, give me my damn money back. Right\n now, and I don't have no damn receipt\n neither.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Okay, sir...but where's the cover?\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n I don't have no damn cover.\n\n Craig walks in with", "'D\n Yo' cousin, Craig. Hook us up.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's it?\n\n BABY'D\n Just tell him to come over here and talk\n to me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n And I can go free?\n\n BABY'D\n Go, fo' I change my mind.\n\n Day-Day carefully walks back over towards the store. D'Wana\n pouts and walks towards Baby'D. (If looks could kill", "him ducking out the\n back door.\n\n D'WANA\n He's in there!\n\n INSIDE STORE\n\n Baby'D knocks Craig out of the way.\n\n BABY'D\n Where is he?\n\n D'WANA\n He ran out the door.\n\n Baby'D gives chase with D'Wana, Craig and Roach close behind.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS", "CRAIG\n Oh damn.\n\n He SLAMS the DOOR. We FOLLOW Craig upstairs TO Uncle Elroy's\n room. He knocks softly.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Uncle Elroy?\n\n No answer.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Uncle Elroy, you got a tax notice.\n\n Still no answer. He turns the knob. It's open.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S BEDROOM - CON", ". Uncle Elroy's hurt. It's his\n back.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n (in pain)\n My back.\n\n MR. JONES\n What's the matter?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n I slip my disc, again... Oh got damn.\n\n Craig goes to assist Uncle Elroy.\n\n CRAIG\n Stretch it out.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Don't move me.\n\n INT. JOK", "\n She gives Craig a big, juicy hug and kiss, grabbing his ass\n in the process.\n\n SUGA (cont'd)\n (hugging and grabbing)\n You even cuter than your baby pictures.\n\n CRAIG\n Thank you.\n\n SUGA\n (whispering in Craig's ear)\n You know, I'mma be your new auntie. We\n can keep it all in the family if you want\n to.\n\n Uncle Elroy un", "\n\n ROACH\n I don't know, he must've left.\n\n D'Wana looks at Baby'D.\n\n CRAIG\n I thought ya'll wanted to buy a CD?\n\n BABY'D\n I do... can you help me find the jazz\n section?\n\n Craig looks at Roach for directions. He nods over towards\n the front of the store.\n\n CRAIG\n Right this way. You know damn well you\n don't listen", "ON CRAIG JONES\n\n the doctor of this delicate operation.\n\n CRAIG (V.O.)\n Soon as my pops found out what Debo said\n to Ezal, he wanted me to move with my\n uncle and little cousin in Rancho\n Cucamonga. Til' things calm down, or\n Debo went back to prison. Whichever\n comes first.\n\n He's sitting on the toilet (dressed: not using it) putting\n the finishing touches on his masterpiece.", "rub off on you.\n\n Craig grabs his bags.\n\n CRAIG\n You coming in?\n\n MR. JONES\n No, I'mma go on to work. I don't wanna\n hear Elroy's mouth. Now listen to me,\n Craig. It's gonna be different living\n over here. Don't let your uncle and your\n cousin get you into no shit. Understand?\n\n CRAIG\n Hey, Pops, I'm grown. ", "BACK ON COUCH\n\n Craig is high. He's looking at the TV with a slight smile on\n his face. It seems like the walls are shaking. He looks\n over at Suga's glass and her wine is vibrating, like Jurassic\n Park. Plaster falls from the ceiling. He listens, it's\n Uncle Elroy and Suga making love.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (O.S.)\n Oh, baby, right there. Right\n there...bite the nip", " that right, nephew?\n\n Uncle Elroy hugs Craig by the arm.\n\n MR. JONES\n Craig, remember what I told you.\n\n CRAIG\n I'll remember.\n\n Mr. Jones pulls off. Uncle Elroy yells out to him.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Send Betty my love.\n (to Craig)\n Boy you looking good.\n (grabbing his bags)\n I'mma take these in the house for you,\n ", "-hugs them.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Okay, okay, that's enough. Go put on\n some damn clothes.\n\n SUGA\n (pouting)\n Elroy.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Suga. Go ahead and get us something to\n smoke on.\n\n SUGA\n Okay.\n (winking)\n Bye, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Nice to meet you.\n\n Suga walks out.\n\n", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "Uncle Elroy?\n\n He's about to shake him when Uncle Elroy lets out a big\n grunt. It startles Craig. He looks over at Suga. She's\n completely under the covers. Uncle Elroy rolls over on his\n stomach, then he rolls on his back again. Craig shakes him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Uncle Elroy, wake up. You got a letter\n today.\n\n No response. Craig tries again.\n\n CRAIG (" ], [ "D\n Day-Day, don't make me break this window!\n\n Craig is peeking out. He hesitates.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Watch out for Baby'D.\n\n Craig walks out the back. He steps over the door. Unlocks\n it, and cracks it open.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day ain't here.\n\n They don't believe him.\n\n D'WANA\n Who are you?\n\n CRAIG\n", "be\n scared of 'em neither if you had a man\n like me in yo' life.\n\n KARLA\n What?? So you snuck in my room to tell\n me that?\n\n CRAIG\n Yes I did. Excuse me.\n\n Her door flies open. Smashing Craig behind it. It's Li'l\n Joker.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Who you talking to?\n\n Craig looks nervous.\n\n KARLA\n Nobody", "live\n in peace and quiet.\n\n The neighborhood is full of green lawns and nice two story\n track homes as far as the eye can see. The yellow truck\n drives through the streets and pulls up to a cul-de-sac. Mr.\n Jones BLOWS the HORN.\n\n MR. JONES\n Nice neighborhood, huh?\n\n CRAIG\n It's alright.\n\n MR. JONES\n 18-years of chasing dogs; and my lazy", "rub off on you.\n\n Craig grabs his bags.\n\n CRAIG\n You coming in?\n\n MR. JONES\n No, I'mma go on to work. I don't wanna\n hear Elroy's mouth. Now listen to me,\n Craig. It's gonna be different living\n over here. Don't let your uncle and your\n cousin get you into no shit. Understand?\n\n CRAIG\n Hey, Pops, I'm grown. ", "a\n certified mail delivery.\n\n He hands Craig a letter.\n\n DELIVERY GUY (cont'd)\n Sign here.\n\n Craig signs.\n\n CRAIG\n What is it?\n\n DELIVERY GUY\n Delinquent Property Tax Notice... I hope\n the Cracker Killers pay well 'cause if\n not, back to the ghetto you go. Wife\n stays here, of course.\n\n He laughs and walks off singing the \"", "CRAIG\n Most of it. I just hate to see you in\n this situation.\n\n KARLA\n Thanks for noticing. It used ta be\n peaceful before they got out. Took over\n the house and caused my mother's nervous\n breakdown.\n\n CRAIG\n Why didn't she put'em out?\n\n KARLA\n Easier said than done. We saved up to\n get away from them, but they followed us.\n\n CRAIG\n", "feud, you can always go back to\n home. I gotta live here. Just remember\n that.\n\n He slams the door, starts the car and backs up. Leaving\n Craig standing there. He sees Karla walking away. He looks\n over at the Jokers. They're still staring hard. Craig just\n looks away and walks into the house.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps into the house.\n\n UNCLE", "\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Uncle Elroy catches up with Craig and Mr. Jones on the side\n of Joker's house. He has a big chrome .357 magnum.\n\n CRAIG\n That's a nice piece of heat right there.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Thank you. I only got two bullets in the\n mothafucka, but it's better than nothing.\n\n MR. JON", "it --\n rowdy, rowdy?\n\n Craig can't believe his ears.\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I'm 'bout it.\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Well, then, it's all good. Yo, Day-Day,\n something is going down with those\n Mexicans across the street? I've been\n seeing a lot of activity.\n\n They all look over at the Joker's house.\n\n CRAIG\n What kind of activity?", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "the area. The\n KNOCKING CONTINUES.\n\n DELIVERY GUY (O.S.)\n Delivery!\n\n CRAIG\n I said hold on!\n\n DELIVERY GUY (O.S.)\n Could you hurry up, please... it's kinda\n hot out here.\n\n Craig stops what he's doing and swings the door open.\n\n ON PORCH\n\n The DELIVERY GUY, a thirtysomething", " bulldogs or something! That's why moving\n wit'cha Uncle Elroy and Cousin Day-Day is\n the best thing for you right now.\n\n CRAIG\n (with attitude)\n Ya'll making me look like a punk.\n\n MR. JONES\n It ain't about being a punk, son. It's\n about this...\n\n Craig smells something in the air.\n\n MR. JONES (cont'd)\n My great, great", " that right, nephew?\n\n Uncle Elroy hugs Craig by the arm.\n\n MR. JONES\n Craig, remember what I told you.\n\n CRAIG\n I'll remember.\n\n Mr. Jones pulls off. Uncle Elroy yells out to him.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Send Betty my love.\n (to Craig)\n Boy you looking good.\n (grabbing his bags)\n I'mma take these in the house for you,\n ", "in.\n\n The knocking gets louder.\n\n CRAIG\n No I'm not.\n\n ROACH\n I'll do it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n No. You can't handle a girl like D'Wana.\n It's got to be Craig.\n\n AT FRONT DOOR\n\n They observe the \"Yes We're Open\" sign.\n\n D'WANA\n That white boy said he was in there.\n\n BABY'", "'t see him, but he's frozen.\n Then she turns around and he startles her.\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing?\n\n Think fast, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Huh?\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing here?\n\n CRAIG\n I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but I\n just had to come in here and show you I\n ain't scared of yo' punk ass\n brothers...and you wouldn't have", "back to the house.\n\n MISS HO KYM\n See you later, Day-Day. Come by after\n work, I got the John Blaze shit for you.\n\n CRAIG\n Nice to meet you?\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Peace out, Craig.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day and Craig enter the house. They still have the\n furniture from the projects. Craig looks around. He spots\n", "of bags. She taps Craig on his shoulder. He turns\n around.\n\n KARLA\n Hello, remember me?\n\n CRAIG\n Hell yeah, I remember you.\n\n KARLA\n I'm sorry for what my brother did this\n morning. They're assholes.\n\n CRAIG\n It's cool. You ain't got to apologize\n for your brothers. They're big boys.\n\n KARLA\n I just wanted to", " DAY-DAY\n I know what 'cha thinking. I thought the\n same thing. But it can't happen.\n\n CRAIG\n Why?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Because, it's been a little tension\n between us ever since they got out the\n joint and ran their momma crazy. And I'm\n just trying to keep the peace. We moved\n out here to get away from that shit.\n\n Day-Day walks over to his Beamer. Craig follows.\n\n", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", " I'm his cousin.\n\n BABY'D\n You suppose to work here now or\n something?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I work here now.\n\n D'WANA\n We didn't come here for Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n Yes you did.\n\n D'WANA\n No we didn't. We came to buy a CD.\n\n BABY'D\n Now move.\n\n Baby'D kicks the" ], [ " DAY-DAY\n I know what 'cha thinking. I thought the\n same thing. But it can't happen.\n\n CRAIG\n Why?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Because, it's been a little tension\n between us ever since they got out the\n joint and ran their momma crazy. And I'm\n just trying to keep the peace. We moved\n out here to get away from that shit.\n\n Day-Day walks over to his Beamer. Craig follows.\n\n", "D\n Day-Day, don't make me break this window!\n\n Craig is peeking out. He hesitates.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Watch out for Baby'D.\n\n Craig walks out the back. He steps over the door. Unlocks\n it, and cracks it open.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day ain't here.\n\n They don't believe him.\n\n D'WANA\n Who are you?\n\n CRAIG\n", "knocking?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Well, let me in.\n\n CRAIG\n Uncle Elroy, who's that girl by Day-Day's\n car?\n\n He looks.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Oh, that's D'Wana. His ex.\n (yelling upstairs)\n Day-Day, the crazy bitch is back!\n\n Day-Day runs down the stairs to get a look. He'", "\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I broke up with her two Fridays ago\n and she's been harassing me ever since.\n She don't care about the restraining\n order or nothing.\n\n CRAIG\n Restraining order? Where the hell you\n meet this girl?\n\n DAY-DAY\n I went back to Watts to sell my old car\n and met her on the way. Worst day of my\n life.\n\n CRAIG\n Damn, you", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "-Day tries to turn around. Craig grabs him.\n\n CRAIG\n It's about to work, just come on.\n\n ROACH\n (about to bite baloney)\n What about the dog?\n\n Craig slaps the baloney out of his hand.\n\n CRAIG\n That's what the baloney's for!\n\n All three kneel down next to a parked car. Day-Day looks\n sick.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, I don'", "t think I can do this, Craig.\n I got the B-G's.\n\n CRAIG\n What's the B-G's?\n\n DAY-DAY\n (holding his stomach)\n The bubble guts. I'm so nervous it feels\n like I'mma shit on myself.\n\n ROACH\n Try an' hold it, man. Squeeze your ass\n cheeks together.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Butterflies, my ass. I'", "now.\n\n Day-Day follows.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Hurry up. He didn't have that much\n baloney.\n\n They sneak up to the side of the house. The MUSIC is\n BLEEDING THROUGH the walls.\n\n INSIDE HOUSE\n\n Li'l Joker is dancing with all 3 girls. They're all getting\n high and feeling good. One girl has come out of her blouse.\n The others start to follow her lead.", "got a stalker.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That ain't the worst part. Her little\n sister, Baby D. She's the one that gets\n real physical. But I got a restraining\n order on her, too.\n\n CRAIG\n You got a restraining order on a little\n girl named Baby D?\n\n DAY-DAY\n (very serious)\n You don't know Baby D.\n\n He looks at his watch.\n\n DAY-DAY", "out here on my break. Nobody quits me.\n\n D'Wana runs to her car. She speeds off. Uncle Elroy goes\n for the water hose. Craig grabs Day-Day.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I can't see! I can't see! Daddy!\n\n CRAIG\n Lay down, Day-Day. Stop moving.\n\n Craig puts him on the grass.\n\n DAY-DAY\n She pepper-sprayed me, man! She", " at a few hanging pictures.\n\n CRAIG\n Man, this a cool house.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (picking up a picture)\n Thanks, I just wish my mother had a\n chance to see it.\n\n Mother's picture: she looks like Day-Day with a wig on.\n She's smiling and holding the winning lotto ticket.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n But when she found out we won the money,\n she had a heart attack. You", "at.\n\n Day-Day laughs.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yep. I forgot about him cussin' out\n everybody. Damn that was fun.\n\n CRAIG\n I know, we had a good time. But ever\n since you guys moved out here, it seems\n like we've lost touch.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I know; this a long way from Watts. But\n what I like about living out here is that\n you don't hear no", "cousin, Craig.\n\n ROACH\n What up, bro?\n\n Craig nods his head.\n\n CRAIG\n I tried to wake up Uncle Elroy but he\n thought I was Suga.\n\n Day-Day reads the notice.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You know what this is?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, that's why I walked down here.\n\n ROACH\n What it say?\n\n Day-Day ignores Roach.\n\n DAY", "the notice in hand.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I can't give you your damn money back on\n this.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n Bullshit! I'll go postal in this\n mothafucka!\n\n DAY-DAY\n Well, you gonna have to go postal then.\n\n The customer KNOCKS over a counter display and then turns to\n get away.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey!\n\n Craig bumps", "minutes.\n\n Uncle Elroy slams the door. Day-Day stands in the shower\n fully dressed and soaking wet.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Let me show you my back yard. You know\n it's bigger than y'all back yard.\n\n They exit, leaving Day-Day in the shower.\n\n EXT. ELROY'S BACK YARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n Uncle Elroy and Craig start to walk around the back yard. In\n the B", " The bedroom door is cracked. Craig walks over\n and shuts the door gently. He locks it. Then he creeps over\n to the dresser. He pulls out the pump and sets it on the\n bed. He opens it, revealing all the bundled-up money packed\n in. He starts to stuff it in his pockets.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is trying to keep his composure.\n\n INT. DEN", "ER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is pissed.\n\n JOKER\n Where are these fucking guys?\n\n He storms out the room. Day-Day and Roach try to escape.\n They flap around on the ground like a fish out of water.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n The back door flies open. Joker appears with the AK-47 in\n hand. He spots Uncle El", "-DAY\n How can they do this?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know. Did ya'll forget to pay it\n or something?\n\n ROACH\n What it say?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Ever since my momma died the bills are\n always late.\n\n CRAIG\n See how much it is?\n\n Day-Day opens it. A PHONE starts to RING.\n\n ROACH\n What is it?\n\n DAY-DAY", "helicopters, no sirens,\n no drive-by's, no nothing. Just peace\n and quiet. Listen.\n\n They do. It is quiet, except for a few BIRDS SINGING.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Shit sound good, huh?\n\n Just then, a maroon Cadillac low-rider on Daytons rolls up\n the block. It's the Jokers: JOKER (28), LI'L JOKER (21" ], [ "him ducking out the\n back door.\n\n D'WANA\n He's in there!\n\n INSIDE STORE\n\n Baby'D knocks Craig out of the way.\n\n BABY'D\n Where is he?\n\n D'WANA\n He ran out the door.\n\n Baby'D gives chase with D'Wana, Craig and Roach close behind.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS", "\n\n ROACH\n I don't know, he must've left.\n\n D'Wana looks at Baby'D.\n\n CRAIG\n I thought ya'll wanted to buy a CD?\n\n BABY'D\n I do... can you help me find the jazz\n section?\n\n Craig looks at Roach for directions. He nods over towards\n the front of the store.\n\n CRAIG\n Right this way. You know damn well you\n don't listen", "I'm currently running the store.\n Can I see the CD?\n\n The customer throws the CD on the counter. Day-Day picks it\n up.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n No, give me my damn money back. Right\n now, and I don't have no damn receipt\n neither.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Okay, sir...but where's the cover?\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n I don't have no damn cover.\n\n Craig walks in with", "know the\n story.\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n A sad moment.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Go on and make yourself at home. I'mma\n go get dressed for work.\n\n CRAIG\n Oh, yeah, where you work at?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Pinky's Records and Disc in the shopping\n center. I'mma talk to my boss and see if\n he got a little position for you. 'Cause\n you been unemployed for", " I'm his cousin.\n\n BABY'D\n You suppose to work here now or\n something?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I work here now.\n\n D'WANA\n We didn't come here for Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n Yes you did.\n\n D'WANA\n No we didn't. We came to buy a CD.\n\n BABY'D\n Now move.\n\n Baby'D kicks the", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "I'm gone.\n\n Craig turns and sprints into the store. Baby'D looks\n concerned. Day-Day grabs Roach and they run into the store.\n\n BABY'D\n I'mma get you, Day-Day! You gotta come\n out sometimes!\n\n D'Wana hands her a brick.\n\n D'WANA\n I told you.\n\n Baby'D screams and throws the brick through Day-Day's\n WINDSHIELD.\n\n INT", "'D\n Yo' cousin, Craig. Hook us up.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's it?\n\n BABY'D\n Just tell him to come over here and talk\n to me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n And I can go free?\n\n BABY'D\n Go, fo' I change my mind.\n\n Day-Day carefully walks back over towards the store. D'Wana\n pouts and walks towards Baby'D. (If looks could kill", ". PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n DAY-DAY\n What was that?\n\n ROACH\n (looking out window)\n You don't wanna know.\n\n Day-Day is devastated.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Thanks a lot, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n I know we cousins and all, but don't try\n an' hook me up with the big little\n sisters.\n\n DAY-DAY", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "\n INT. DAY-DAY'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Day-Day's room is junky. Clothes are everywhere. He's\n putting on his Pinky's Records and Disc T-shirt. Craig comes\n in.\n\n CRAIG\n You straight?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I'm alright. Is my face still\n orange to you?\n\n Day-Day's face looks sunburned.\n\n CRAIG\n Just a", "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", "a is still walking.\n\n CRAIG\n Hey! Hey!\n\n She stops and waits for him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n I'm Day-Day's cousin, Craig. What's your\n name?\n\n KARLA\n Karla.\n\n CRAIG\n Craig and Karla, damn that sound pretty\n good together. Where you going?\n\n KARLA\n To the Cucamonga shopping center.\n\n ", "ple, baby. Bite it!\n Bite it! Yeah, mothafucka -- yeah, come\n on, baby, get busy...\n\n His eavesdropping is interrupted by a loud KNOCK on the door.\n Craig is so comfortable, he doesn't want to move. The\n KNOCKING gets LOUDER.\n\n DELIVERY GUY (O.S.)\n Delivery!\n\n CRAIG\n Hold on.\n\n Craig gets up slowly and starts to clean", " The bedroom door is cracked. Craig walks over\n and shuts the door gently. He locks it. Then he creeps over\n to the dresser. He pulls out the pump and sets it on the\n bed. He opens it, revealing all the bundled-up money packed\n in. He starts to stuff it in his pockets.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is trying to keep his composure.\n\n INT. DEN", "him and he falls into the Rap cassette rack.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n I'm sorry! Don't hit me! Don't hit me.\n\n He jumps up and slips on a few more cassettes on his scramble\n out the door.\n\n DAY-DAY\n ...and if you come back, it's gonna be\n worse.\n\n Roach can't believe what just happened.\n\n ROACH\n Did you see that? That was a W", "towards the storage room.\n\n CRAIG\n Where you going?\n\n D'WANA\n Ain't the rest room this way? I gotta\n pee.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah.\n\n D'WANA\n Thank you.\n\n As she's walking in the back, Roach realizes his mistake.\n\n BACK STORAGE AREA\n\n DAY-DAY\n Shit.\n\n Day-Day makes a run for it. She spots", "and don't say a\n word.\n\n He obeys. Pinky backs Craig into the store.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Get on the floor.\n\n Craig gets down.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Little mothafucka trying to rob me.\n I'mma show you how I do 'em.\n\n CRAIG\n I ain't trying to rob you...\n\n PINKY\n Shut up! Fo' I pump this", "ON CRAIG JONES\n\n the doctor of this delicate operation.\n\n CRAIG (V.O.)\n Soon as my pops found out what Debo said\n to Ezal, he wanted me to move with my\n uncle and little cousin in Rancho\n Cucamonga. Til' things calm down, or\n Debo went back to prison. Whichever\n comes first.\n\n He's sitting on the toilet (dressed: not using it) putting\n the finishing touches on his masterpiece.", "and tries to hurry out the room. On his\n exit, he hangs himself on the \"fuck swing\" and hits the floor\n with a thud. He scrambles to his feet, then he's out of\n there. Uncle Elroy and Suga lay asleep as if nothing ever\n happened.\n\n IN HALLWAY\n\n Craig tries to gain his composure. He gets an idea.\n\n EXT. BUSY CITY STREET - AFTERNOON\n\n Debo is riding Ezal on the handle" ], [ "'s.\n\n ROACH\n\n ... his meat supply is almost gone. He tries to think fast.\n Cheeco starts to look for more meat. Roach grabs the smashed\n brownie out of his pocket and throws it to Cheeco. He\n swallows it in one big gulp. He's looking for more. There\n is no more. Roach smiles. CHEECO GROWLS.\n\n ROACH\n Good boy. Nice dog.\n\n CHEECO", "Thanks for the help.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, man, the pleasure's all mine.\n Thanks for the dog, and the money. Maybe\n my dad won't kick my ass tonight.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Call me.\n\n ROACH\n Okay, later, bro. Hey, Craig, nice\n smokin' wit'cha.\n\n CRAIG\n You too.\n\n MR. JONES\n Smokin' what?\n\n CRA", "looks\n around making sure no one sneaks up on him. He reaches under\n his shirt and pulls out a Glock 9mm. Sticks his key in the\n door and steps in.\n\n BACK STORE AREA - CLOSE UP - ROACH\n\n is upside down. All the blood has rushed to his head. He\n has Chinaman eyes and a big smile on his face.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Roach, what are you doing?\n\n ROACH\n R-U", "'S STILL GROWLING. Suddenly Cheeco falls back on his\n butt and lets out a slight moan.\n\n CHEECO'S POV\n\n Cheeco is looking up at Roach. He's seeing double, even\n triple. Cheeco lays down. It looks like he's faded.\n\n ROACH\n No lungs, baby. No lungs.\n\n INSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig is in.", "\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Cheeco's got to be the dumbest fuckin'\n mutt in the whole wide U.S.A.\n\n CHEECO is running at Roach full speed. He jumps on the fence\n and starts to BARK with everything he's got. Roach drops the\n baloney.\n\n CRAIG AND DAY-DAY\n\n ...hear the DOG BARKING and freeze in their tracks. Day-Day\n tries to run. Craig", "grabs him, again.\n\n CRAIG\n Wait.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (loud whisper)\n Wait for what?\n\n A LOT of BARKING. Nothing coming.\n\n CRAIG\n He's still over by Roach.\n\n ROACH\n\n ...picks up the baloney and stuffs the whole pack into his\n mouth. CHEECO is SILENCED. Roach is relieved.\n\n INSIDE JOKER'S B", "towards the storage room.\n\n CRAIG\n Where you going?\n\n D'WANA\n Ain't the rest room this way? I gotta\n pee.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah.\n\n D'WANA\n Thank you.\n\n As she's walking in the back, Roach realizes his mistake.\n\n BACK STORAGE AREA\n\n DAY-DAY\n Shit.\n\n Day-Day makes a run for it. She spots", "\n\n ROACH\n I don't know, he must've left.\n\n D'Wana looks at Baby'D.\n\n CRAIG\n I thought ya'll wanted to buy a CD?\n\n BABY'D\n I do... can you help me find the jazz\n section?\n\n Craig looks at Roach for directions. He nods over towards\n the front of the store.\n\n CRAIG\n Right this way. You know damn well you\n don't listen", "\n Big bitches need love, too, Craig.\n\n ROACH\n For sure. That's how I like 'em.\n\n CRAIG\n Not me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Are they still out there?\n\n ROACH\n Negative...they vamped.\n\n Day-Day starts to walk into the back storage area.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Shouldn't we straighten up out here\n before Pinky gets back?\n\n Day-Day", "cousin, Craig.\n\n ROACH\n What up, bro?\n\n Craig nods his head.\n\n CRAIG\n I tried to wake up Uncle Elroy but he\n thought I was Suga.\n\n Day-Day reads the notice.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You know what this is?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, that's why I walked down here.\n\n ROACH\n What it say?\n\n Day-Day ignores Roach.\n\n DAY", "door. Craig has no choice but to let 'em\n in.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's that boy that told me Day-Day was\n here?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know... I think he went out the\n back.\n\n D'WANA\n Can I look for myself?\n\n Suddenly Roach is pushed into the front area.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, ladies.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's Day-Day?", "\n fence. No sign of Cheeco. Roach opens the pack of baloney\n and pulls out a slice.\n\n ROACH\n (nervous whisper)\n Here, Cheeco. Chee-co, here boy. That's\n a good boy.\n\n It's pitch-black behind the fence, still no Cheeco.\n\n PARKED CAR - SAME TIME\n\n Craig makes a move.\n\n CRAIG\n Come on, he should have'em by", ".)\n\n ROACH\n Great moves, Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n What happen?\n\n DAY-DAY\n We worked out a deal. All you gotta do\n is go over there and talk to Baby'D.\n\n Craig looks over at Baby'D. She's waiting.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean talk to her?\n\n ROACH\n (still smiling)\n You know what he mean, dude.\n\n CRAIG\n ", "ACH\n ...like I was saying. A guy like me, and\n a dog like you, don't need this bullshit.\n We need to be in Maui renting jet ski to\n fat funks in flower shirts. You feel me,\n C?\n\n Cheeco is passed out. Day-Day sneaks around the corner. He\n whispers.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Roach...Roach, come on.\n\n ROACH\n Where's Craig?\n\n DAY", ".W.F. hit\n right there, huh, Day-Day?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, it was. How you get up here?\n\n CRAIG\n I walked.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You walked?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, ya'll got a notice today. It came\n certified mail.\n\n He gives it to Day-Day.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Craig, this Roach. Roach, this is my\n ", "s in it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You make it sound so easy.\n\n CRAIG\n It is easy. You know why? 'Cause they're\n not expecting it.\n Now, Roach, you gotta occupy Cheeco.\n Long enough for me and Day-Day to take a\n good look.\n\n ROACH\n Dude, dogs hate me. I don't know why.\n Me and K-9's just don't get along.\n\n C", "Just take it all.\n\n Just then, Day-Day and Roach come from the back.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Craig, what the hell are you doing?\n\n CRAIG\n Nothing.\n\n PINKY\n Day-Day, is this your cousin?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah.\n\n PINKY\n Good. You fired...and, Roach, your fired\n too.\n\n ROACH\n Why me?\n\n PINKY\n ", "Let it go, Roach, trust me.\n\n ROACH\n I'm not letting nothing go. They killed\n my board.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go!\n\n Craig is looking over at the Joker's house. Baby Joker walks\n out the front door. He walks over to the rider and POPS the\n TRUNK.\n\n CRAIG\n Wait. Check'em out.\n\n Baby Joker pulls out a chrome hydraulic pump. ", "RAIG\n Well get along with this one.\n (pushing Roach)\n Go ahead of us. Don't get seen and don't\n let that mutt out of your sight.\n\n ROACH\n Fuck, what's his name?\n\n CRAIG\n Cheeco.\n\n Roach crawls away on his hands and knees.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Roach sneaks past Joker's lowrider. He slowly approaches the", "e-c-o.\n\n We hear a MEAN GROWL out of the darkness. Roach continues.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n My baloney has a second name it just like\n the first Cheeco.\n\n GROWLING gets LOWDER.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Ooooohhhh I love to eat it everyday if\n you ask me what I'll say.\n\n We can hear TINY FOOTSTEPS RUNNING at Roach." ], [ "\n DAY-DAY\n Cheeco!\n\n Craig turns to see the pit bull \"Cheeco\" running right after\n him.\n\n KARLA\n Cheeco, no!\n\n Craig runs right towards Day-Day's BMW.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Oh shit, jump!\n\n They both jump on top of Day-Day's BMW with CHEECO coming up\n fast. He's BARKING viciously.\n\n ACROSS STREET\n\n", ". The DOG CRIES and runs back across the street.\n\n The Jokers aren't laughing anymore. Joker stares at Craig.\n Craig stares back. You can feel the tension. Joker kicks\n the dog.\n\n JOKER\n Get yo dumb ass in the back.\n\n CHEECO HOLLERS. Craig and Day-Day get off the top of the\n BMW.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Look at my roof.\n\n Big dents in", "D jumps out with a brick. She throws it\n through the back window of Day-Day's BMW. She jumps back in\n and they're gone...\n\n THE END.\n\n", "the roof of his BMW.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Man, why you do that? I told you not to\n talk to that girl.\n\n CRAIG\n Why not? She was cool with it.\n\n Day-Day gets into the car.\n\n DAY-DAY\n So.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, so?\n\n DAY-DAY\n If you 'get into it' with them S.A.'s and\n start a", " DAY-DAY\n I know what 'cha thinking. I thought the\n same thing. But it can't happen.\n\n CRAIG\n Why?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Because, it's been a little tension\n between us ever since they got out the\n joint and ran their momma crazy. And I'm\n just trying to keep the peace. We moved\n out here to get away from that shit.\n\n Day-Day walks over to his Beamer. Craig follows.\n\n", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle", "s sneaky. Plus, I got something\n better than a Cadillac.\n\n They walk over to his black BMW 325i on chrome rims.\n\n CRAIG\n This you?\n\n DAY-DAY\n (proud)\n Yeah, that's me. Just a little somethin'\n somethin' I picked up.\n\n CRAIG\n Must be nice. I wish we won the lottery.\n Come up on a million dollars like ya'", "-DAY\n Fuuuuuuck -- U!\n\n He runs back towards his BMW. The chase continues around his\n car. Baby'D is starting to tire.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n I'mma shoot yo' big ass.\n\n D'Wana watches from a distance. Craig and Roach are close.\n\n ROACH\n (smiling)\n She moves well for a big girl.\n\n Just then, out of nowhere, Karla appears behind them carrying\n a couple", "I'm gone.\n\n Craig turns and sprints into the store. Baby'D looks\n concerned. Day-Day grabs Roach and they run into the store.\n\n BABY'D\n I'mma get you, Day-Day! You gotta come\n out sometimes!\n\n D'Wana hands her a brick.\n\n D'WANA\n I told you.\n\n Baby'D screams and throws the brick through Day-Day's\n WINDSHIELD.\n\n INT", " Debo is a hard fit. Ezal stuffs him in there.\n\n EZAL\n You too big.\n\n DEBO\n Keep pushing.\n\n Finally he's in. Ezal gets in and slams the door shut. Just\n then, Mr. Jones comes running out the joint with a sandwich\n in hand.\n\n MR. JONES\n Oh my God!\n\n He gets in and speeds off.\n\n EXT. CUCAMONGA SHOPPING CENTER - AF", " The yellow truck speeds off.\n\n Debo jumps up staggering with scrapes and bruises.\n\n DEBO\n You know I'mma find you! You can run ya'\n can't hide!\n\n BACK IN CAR - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig screams out the window.\n\n CRAIG\n You fake ass Suge Knight!\n\n Mr. Jones is a bit shaken up.\n\n MR. JONES\n That nigga worst than them damn pit\n", " CLOSE-UP\n\n Big scratch on the side of Day-Day's car.\n\n WIDER\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n It ain't that bad, is it?\n\n Craig is still looking at Karla.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Craig! It ain't that bad, is it?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, it's bad. And that scratch make it\n ugly.\n\n Day-Day is starting to get", "a long time now,\n Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Thanks for reminding me.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is left to look around, until something\n outside catches his eye.\n\n EXT. HOUSE\n\n It's D'WANA (20), Day-Day's six-month pregnant girlfriend.\n She's walking on the right side of his BMW. With one hand\n she waves at Craig...with the other hand she's keying Day-\n Day's car", "tube of KY jelly. He removes the mask. Day-Day\n hands him the notice. Uncle Elroy takes it with his greasy\n hands.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Ah damn. Damn.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I got fired too.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What?!\n\n He starts to beat Day-Day with a sex toy.\n\n EXT. FREEWAY - MONTAGE SEQUENCE - AFTERNOON\n\n The dog truck ex", "MORNING\n\n A run-down crack house sits alone in the middle of the block.\n It looks deserted with chipped paint, overgrown grass and\n security bars everywhere. Inside we can hear a FIGHT in\n progress.\n\n CRACK DEALER (O.S.)\n Ezal, I'm sick of you coming around here\n wit no money.\n\n Suddenly the door flies open and Ezal comes flying out on his\n ass.\n\n EZAL\n I be damned.\n\n He", " quit me, I'm pregnant!\n\n DAY-DAY\n That ain't my baby!\n\n Day-Day spots the damage. He loses it.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n (in disbelief)\n Oh, my God! What you doing?!\n\n Now he's a madman.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Bitch! You keyed my car! I'mma kill\n you!\n\n Day-Day charges", " I do.\n\n MR. JONES\n What it smell like?\n\n CRAIG\n Smells like you didn't fall in no mud.\n\n Mr. Jones grabs the air freshener from under the seat. He\n starts to spray too much. Craig's window won't roll down.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What's wrong with the window?\n\n MR. JONES\n I gotta get'em fixed. They don't roll\n ", "-Day tries to turn around. Craig grabs him.\n\n CRAIG\n It's about to work, just come on.\n\n ROACH\n (about to bite baloney)\n What about the dog?\n\n Craig slaps the baloney out of his hand.\n\n CRAIG\n That's what the baloney's for!\n\n All three kneel down next to a parked car. Day-Day looks\n sick.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, I don'", "o! Debo!\n\n DEBO\n What?\n\n EZAL\n I can't feel my legs no more.\n\n DEBO\n Me neither. How far is Rancho Cucamonga?\n\n EZAL\n I don't know.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S STREET - MONTAGE SEQUENCE\n\n The Beamer pulls into the driveway. Our trio get out with\n very long faces.\n\n CRA", "ll.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, after taxes, lawyer fees, and paying\n off my daddy's bad credit, we didn't end\n up with a million. We bought this house\n and I spent the rest on this. It's the\n bomb, huh?\n\n CRAIG\n This my baby. I feel like a new nigga in\n this car. I get mo' phone numbers\n rollin' this, than I ever did on the bus.\n\n MISS" ], [ "\n Baby Joker obeys the order.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Here comes Karla, put the guns away.\n\n JOKER\n Keep your mouth shut.\n\n Karla walks back in.\n\n KARLA\n Hey, what's going on?\n\n JOKER\n Nothing. What you want?\n\n KARLA\n Are you going to take me to see Mom?\n\n JOKER\n Take your car.\n\n KARLA", "CRAIG\n Most of it. I just hate to see you in\n this situation.\n\n KARLA\n Thanks for noticing. It used ta be\n peaceful before they got out. Took over\n the house and caused my mother's nervous\n breakdown.\n\n CRAIG\n Why didn't she put'em out?\n\n KARLA\n Easier said than done. We saved up to\n get away from them, but they followed us.\n\n CRAIG\n", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "of bags. She taps Craig on his shoulder. He turns\n around.\n\n KARLA\n Hello, remember me?\n\n CRAIG\n Hell yeah, I remember you.\n\n KARLA\n I'm sorry for what my brother did this\n morning. They're assholes.\n\n CRAIG\n It's cool. You ain't got to apologize\n for your brothers. They're big boys.\n\n KARLA\n I just wanted to", "'t see him, but he's frozen.\n Then she turns around and he startles her.\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing?\n\n Think fast, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Huh?\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing here?\n\n CRAIG\n I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but I\n just had to come in here and show you I\n ain't scared of yo' punk ass\n brothers...and you wouldn't have", "\n KARLA\n (friendly)\n Hi!\n\n Craig and Day-Day are mesmerized.\n\n BOTH\n (waving back)\n HEY!\n\n Craig and Karla's eyes meet. She smiles.\n\n CRAIG\n Who is that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's the sister.\n\n CRAIG\n Yo know what? I'm starting to like\n Rancho Cucamonga.\n\n ", "a turns around to check the door.\n\n KARLA\n You so nervous, I already locked this\n door.\n\n Craig drops a thick roll of money into her purse. She shakes\n the knob.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n See. All locked.\n\n She walks over to him. They're face-to-face.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n What's your hurry?\n\n CRAIG\n I got my cousin Day-", ".\n\n LI'L JOKER\n I heard a voice.\n\n KARLA\n No you didn't. Get out my room. Go back\n down to your little girlfriends.\n\n Karla pushes Li'l Joker out.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is having a fit.\n\n GIRL #2 (O.S.)\n Shut the window.\n\n JOK", "(cont'd)\n I gotta get to Pinky's before I get fired\n like you.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is close behind.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n As they walk out the front door, someone catches Craig's eye.\n It's KARLA (23), the Joker brothers' fine sister. She's\n leaning against the lowrider, looking into her purse. She\n waves at them.\n", "be\n scared of 'em neither if you had a man\n like me in yo' life.\n\n KARLA\n What?? So you snuck in my room to tell\n me that?\n\n CRAIG\n Yes I did. Excuse me.\n\n Her door flies open. Smashing Craig behind it. It's Li'l\n Joker.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Who you talking to?\n\n Craig looks nervous.\n\n KARLA\n Nobody", "STAIRWAY - CONTINUOUS\n\n Baby Joker has his back turned when we see Craig sprint\n behind him and up the stairs. Baby Joker turns around. He\n thinks he saw something. He slowly starts to walk up the\n stairs.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Karla!\n\n INT. KARLA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Karla is in her room working out. Craig runs in. He's\n shocked to see her. She doesn", "give you this.\n\n She hands him a card with her number on it.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n If my brothers wasn't so over-protective,\n I'd have you call the house. But for now\n just page me when you get a chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Most definitely.\n\n KARLA\n Better sooner than later.\n\n She picks up her shopping bags and walks away. Over at the\n chase: Baby'D is winded. She b", "a is still walking.\n\n CRAIG\n Hey! Hey!\n\n She stops and waits for him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n I'm Day-Day's cousin, Craig. What's your\n name?\n\n KARLA\n Karla.\n\n CRAIG\n Craig and Karla, damn that sound pretty\n good together. Where you going?\n\n KARLA\n To the Cucamonga shopping center.\n\n ", "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", "- CONTINUOUS\n\n The SA brothers are having a good time. Joker is getting\n nasty with one of the Girls. He pulls her by the hand.\n\n GIRL #2\n No.\n\n JOKER\n Fuck that.\n\n Joker picks her up and carries her to the bedroom. She\n screams. He laughs. He goes for the door. It's locked.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Who locked this door?\n\n ", "9mm. Joker looks at the girls.\n\n JOKER\n Don't fuckin' move.\n\n They won't. The brothers run to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE\n\n Roach is still kicking.\n\n DAY-DAY\n What's wrong with you, fool. Stop\n kicking their door. They might think we\n the police.\n\n The front door swings open and before we know it. Day-Day's\n got an AK pointed in his face,", "feud, you can always go back to\n home. I gotta live here. Just remember\n that.\n\n He slams the door, starts the car and backs up. Leaving\n Craig standing there. He sees Karla walking away. He looks\n over at the Jokers. They're still staring hard. Craig just\n looks away and walks into the house.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps into the house.\n\n UNCLE", "\n The private party is starting to heat up. Big Joker sits on\n the couch with a PRETTY YOUNG GIRL on his lap. He's smoking\n on a perfectly rolled cone joint. Li'l Joker dances with the\n other girlfriend, as an OLD SCHOOL JAM PLAYS in the B.G. The\n other senorita is pouring herself a drink.\n\n Karla walks into the room.\n\n KARLA\n I thought you were taking me to see Mama?", "sister BABY'D (her name\n does not fit her body).\n\n DAY-DAY\n Oh my God. That's D'Wana. And she got\n Baby'D with her.\n\n Day-Day locks the door and runs into the back. Craig and\n Roach follow.\n\n CRAIG\n What's the matter?\n\n DAY-DAY\n D'Wana brought Baby'D up here.\n\n ROACH\n That the big one, huh?" ], [ "They flash\n their lights on him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd) (V.O.)\n Last Friday; I got fired for the first\n time. I got high for the first time. I\n got shot at for the first time and I\n kicked Debo's ass for the first time...\n\n They get him to his feet; but he stumbles and falls in the\n bushes like a knocked out prize fighter. The sheriffs laugh\n at him.\n\n Debo looks dazed and confused.", "roy in the middle of the yard bent\n over. He lifts the AK.\n\n JOKER\n What you doing here?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n I lost something, nigga. What it look\n like?\n\n JOKER\n Looks like a dead man.\n\n Out of nowhere, Craig hits Joker from the back. He flies one\n way and the gun flies another. Now it's really on! Hand-to-\n hand combat. Craig vs. Joker", "\n\n CRAIG\n You go first.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Naw, you go first.\n\n CRAIG\n You go first.\n\n DAY-DAY\n No.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day, if you don't hop that fence\n I'mma throw you over.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I ain't scared of you. We ain't little\n no more.\n\n Day-Day gets ready to fight.\n\n ", "'mma\n miss him...\n\n Out of nowhere, Debo jumps in front of the truck. Mr. Jones\n slams on the BRAKES.\n\n DEBO\n Craig! Get out the car, boy! This the\n rematch!\n\n Debo reaches for his shank. Craig turns to Mr. Jones!\n\n CRAIG\n Daddy, punch it!\n\n Mr. Jones floors it and hits Debo. He falls over the hood,\n off the car and in the street.", "be\n scared of 'em neither if you had a man\n like me in yo' life.\n\n KARLA\n What?? So you snuck in my room to tell\n me that?\n\n CRAIG\n Yes I did. Excuse me.\n\n Her door flies open. Smashing Craig behind it. It's Li'l\n Joker.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Who you talking to?\n\n Craig looks nervous.\n\n KARLA\n Nobody", ")\n You ain't got no gun, but where's the\n weed at? I smell it.\n\n Craig says nothing.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I'mma tie you ass up!\n\n Pinky backs up and steps on Roach's skateboard. The gun goes\n flying and so does he. Pinky falls on his ass. The 9mm\n lands in front of Craig. There's a big scramble for the gun.\n\n BACK STORAGE ARE", "'t see him, but he's frozen.\n Then she turns around and he startles her.\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing?\n\n Think fast, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Huh?\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing here?\n\n CRAIG\n I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but I\n just had to come in here and show you I\n ain't scared of yo' punk ass\n brothers...and you wouldn't have", "of bags. She taps Craig on his shoulder. He turns\n around.\n\n KARLA\n Hello, remember me?\n\n CRAIG\n Hell yeah, I remember you.\n\n KARLA\n I'm sorry for what my brother did this\n morning. They're assholes.\n\n CRAIG\n It's cool. You ain't got to apologize\n for your brothers. They're big boys.\n\n KARLA\n I just wanted to", "em, Craig!\n\n ROACH\n Bite his ear!\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What 'em! Watch 'em!\n\n Joker takes a few more shots from Craig, then grabs Craig\n around the waist and slams him to the ground. Craig is hurt.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Get off yo' back, Craig!\n\n Craig struggles with Joker, who now has the devil in his\n eyes.\n\n CRAIG\n Ya'll", "Uncle Elroy grabs him in a bear hug and slams him on the bed.\n\n Craig finds himself caught between Suga and Uncle Elroy, but\n now everything is totally still and quiet. Uncle Elroy\n starts to snore again. He's asleep. The coast is clear now.\n Craig tries to make his escape. He crawls over Suga to get\n away. She grabs him and starts to kiss him.\n\n SUGA\n (half asleep)\n Ohhh, baby!\n\n Craig breaks away", "the notice in hand.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I can't give you your damn money back on\n this.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n Bullshit! I'll go postal in this\n mothafucka!\n\n DAY-DAY\n Well, you gonna have to go postal then.\n\n The customer KNOCKS over a counter display and then turns to\n get away.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey!\n\n Craig bumps", "father), storms out of the bedroom. He struggles to put on\n his dog catcher's uniform. He stops at the bathroom door and\n knocks hard.\n\n MR. JONES\n Craig! Craig! Off yo' ass and on yo'\n feet; this ain't the time to beat your\n meat!\n\n Mr. Jones laughs at himself.\n\n CRAIG (O.S.)\n I'll be out in about 35-40 minutes!\n\n MR. J", "feud, you can always go back to\n home. I gotta live here. Just remember\n that.\n\n He slams the door, starts the car and backs up. Leaving\n Craig standing there. He sees Karla walking away. He looks\n over at the Jokers. They're still staring hard. Craig just\n looks away and walks into the house.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps into the house.\n\n UNCLE", "CRAIG\n Most of it. I just hate to see you in\n this situation.\n\n KARLA\n Thanks for noticing. It used ta be\n peaceful before they got out. Took over\n the house and caused my mother's nervous\n breakdown.\n\n CRAIG\n Why didn't she put'em out?\n\n KARLA\n Easier said than done. We saved up to\n get away from them, but they followed us.\n\n CRAIG\n", "and don't say a\n word.\n\n He obeys. Pinky backs Craig into the store.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Get on the floor.\n\n Craig gets down.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Little mothafucka trying to rob me.\n I'mma show you how I do 'em.\n\n CRAIG\n I ain't trying to rob you...\n\n PINKY\n Shut up! Fo' I pump this", " MR. JONES (cont'd)\n Craig! Craig!\n\n Craig emerges from the house with his bags in hand.\n\n CRAIG\n (irritated)\n Here I come!\n\n MR. JONES\n (still mad)\n Well bring yo' ass on...\n\n Craig slams the door and starts towards the truck.\n\n CRAIG\n What's the matter?\n\n MR. JONES\n I fell in some mud. Now", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", " Yo' old ass need to get\n in a little bit o' trouble sometimes.\n\n MR. JONES\n (rolling up his sleeve)\n Don't get it twisted, Elroy. I ain't\n lost none of my street skills.\n\n SUGA\n If ya'll don't come back not in ten\n minutes, I'mma callin' the po'lice.\n\n Craig, Uncle Elroy and Mr. Jones are about to go on a\n mission.\n\n UNCLE", "Thanks for the help.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, man, the pleasure's all mine.\n Thanks for the dog, and the money. Maybe\n my dad won't kick my ass tonight.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Call me.\n\n ROACH\n Okay, later, bro. Hey, Craig, nice\n smokin' wit'cha.\n\n CRAIG\n You too.\n\n MR. JONES\n Smokin' what?\n\n CRA" ], [ "ES\n Two bullets? Yo' ass ain't changed.\n Back in the day, all I had was a stick.\n\n CRAIG\n Come on.\n\n They sneak over to the fence.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What about that ugly dog?\n\n MR. JONES\n I got my mase.\n\n CRAIG\n He's on the other side, sleep.\n\n They start to hop the fence.\n\n ON CHEECO\n\n ", " bulldogs or something! That's why moving\n wit'cha Uncle Elroy and Cousin Day-Day is\n the best thing for you right now.\n\n CRAIG\n (with attitude)\n Ya'll making me look like a punk.\n\n MR. JONES\n It ain't about being a punk, son. It's\n about this...\n\n Craig smells something in the air.\n\n MR. JONES (cont'd)\n My great, great", "live\n in peace and quiet.\n\n The neighborhood is full of green lawns and nice two story\n track homes as far as the eye can see. The yellow truck\n drives through the streets and pulls up to a cul-de-sac. Mr.\n Jones BLOWS the HORN.\n\n MR. JONES\n Nice neighborhood, huh?\n\n CRAIG\n It's alright.\n\n MR. JONES\n 18-years of chasing dogs; and my lazy", "be\n scared of 'em neither if you had a man\n like me in yo' life.\n\n KARLA\n What?? So you snuck in my room to tell\n me that?\n\n CRAIG\n Yes I did. Excuse me.\n\n Her door flies open. Smashing Craig behind it. It's Li'l\n Joker.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Who you talking to?\n\n Craig looks nervous.\n\n KARLA\n Nobody", "\n\n\n\n\n EXT. FRONT LAWN - OVERHEAD SHOT - NIGHT\n\n DEBO is laid out on the grass.\n\n CRAIG (V.O.)\n In the movies, when you beat up the\n neighborhood bully; you suppose to live\n happily ever after. But around here;\n that's when all the drama begins...\n\n Blue and red police lights flash over Debo's body. Two\n sheriffs walk INTO OUR FRAME and stand over Debo. ", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle", "\n\n LI'L JOKER\n (yelling towards bedroom)\n Hey, homes, you guys better hurry up!\n I'mma get greedy.\n\n BACK OUTSIDE\n\n Craig and Day-Day are peeking through the window. Craig\n moves on. Day-Day is still watching.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Look at those tig-ole-bitties\n\n Craig snatches him from the window. They walk over to the\n fence.", "too. You think they're in there?\n\n CRAIG\n Yup.\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Why for? Them boys are real player\n haters.\n\n CRAIG\n It's a long story. Right now we gotta do\n somethin'.\n\n MR. JONES\n You come way out here to get into more\n trouble. You could've stayed at home.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Willie, shut up.", "K. Li'l Joker is in the corner\n with his girl, and Baby Joker is on the floor. Joker TURNS\n DOWN THE STEREO.\n\n JOKER\n You fuckin' lover boys hear that?\n\n BABY JOKER\n Hear what?\n\n The KNOCKING continues. Li'l Joker and Baby Joker push the\n girls aside and jump up. Li'l Joker grabs a big knife. Baby\n Joker grabs a ", "now.\n\n Day-Day follows.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Hurry up. He didn't have that much\n baloney.\n\n They sneak up to the side of the house. The MUSIC is\n BLEEDING THROUGH the walls.\n\n INSIDE HOUSE\n\n Li'l Joker is dancing with all 3 girls. They're all getting\n high and feeling good. One girl has come out of her blouse.\n The others start to follow her lead.", "\n\n Uncle Elroy laughs. Mr. Jones isn't amused.\n\n MR. JONES\n Make sure you look after my son out here.\n Don't get him involved with none of your\n bullshit, Roy.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Don't worry 'bout nothin', big bro. He\n in the best fuckin' hands in Rancho\n Chocomunga, baby! This my world, you\n just a nigga late paying rent. Ain't\n", "MORNING\n\n A run-down crack house sits alone in the middle of the block.\n It looks deserted with chipped paint, overgrown grass and\n security bars everywhere. Inside we can hear a FIGHT in\n progress.\n\n CRACK DEALER (O.S.)\n Ezal, I'm sick of you coming around here\n wit no money.\n\n Suddenly the door flies open and Ezal comes flying out on his\n ass.\n\n EZAL\n I be damned.\n\n He", "\n\n CRAIG\n You go first.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Naw, you go first.\n\n CRAIG\n You go first.\n\n DAY-DAY\n No.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day, if you don't hop that fence\n I'mma throw you over.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I ain't scared of you. We ain't little\n no more.\n\n Day-Day gets ready to fight.\n\n ", "s truck sits in front of the house.\n\n A CHIHUAHUA (like the Taco Bell dog) takes a dump on the\n lawn. It starts to BARK at Debo. He looks down at the dog\n and kicks him in the street. The DOG YIPES!\n\n Debo focuses his attention on Craig's house.\n\n INT. JONES' HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n The hallway is clear and quiet, until MR. JONES (Craig's\n ", " time, Joker's low-rider rolls by and breaks his board in two.\n Roach runs to pick up the pieces.\n\n ROACH\n My board!\n\n The Joker Bros. back their low-rider into the driveway. They\n have no sympathy. Cheeco (the pitbull) is in the back yard.\n He's happy to see them.\n\n They stroll into the house with three Mexican girls with\n them. Joker spots our trio looking.\n\n J", "it --\n rowdy, rowdy?\n\n Craig can't believe his ears.\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I'm 'bout it.\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Well, then, it's all good. Yo, Day-Day,\n something is going down with those\n Mexicans across the street? I've been\n seeing a lot of activity.\n\n They all look over at the Joker's house.\n\n CRAIG\n What kind of activity?", "OKER\n What the fuck you looking at?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Nothing.\n\n ROACH\n You ran over my board!\n\n JOKER\n So what? It shouldn't have been in the\n street.\n\n They disappear into the house.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n Craig has a twinkle in his eyes and Roach walks over, pissed.\n\n ROACH\n Who the fuck is that, Day-Day?\n\n DAY-DAY\n ", "Who is that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Joker, he just got out of the pen. Li'l\n Joker, he just got out of Youth\n Authority. And Baby Joker, he just got\n out of Juvenile Hall.\n\n CRAIG\n They ever let you hit the switches on\n that Cadillac?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Naw, them dudes is assholes. Especially\n that dog - Cheeco. Watch this little\n ass, he'", "body is helpless. We\n can hear SIRENS getting CLOSER and CLOSER. Suddenly, out of\n nowhere...\n\n CHEECO!\n\n The pitbull is back! And he's mad as hell. He runs through\n everybody and jumps on Debo, knocking the gun from his hand.\n Craig and Day-Day jump on Debo. Roach WHISTLES, and Cheeco\n stops his attack on Debo.\n\n Cheeco runs over to Roach and jumps in his", ", no problem. We gone.\n\n ROACH\n Hold on. A man, you broke my fuckin'\n board and I don't appreciate it.\n\n Immediately Day-Day and Roach are snatched inside the house,\n and the door is SLAMMED.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Mr. Jones' dog truck pulls to a stop. He gets out and runs\n to the house. He KNOCKS. Uncle Elroy" ], [ " DAY-DAY\n I know what 'cha thinking. I thought the\n same thing. But it can't happen.\n\n CRAIG\n Why?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Because, it's been a little tension\n between us ever since they got out the\n joint and ran their momma crazy. And I'm\n just trying to keep the peace. We moved\n out here to get away from that shit.\n\n Day-Day walks over to his Beamer. Craig follows.\n\n", "Who is that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Joker, he just got out of the pen. Li'l\n Joker, he just got out of Youth\n Authority. And Baby Joker, he just got\n out of Juvenile Hall.\n\n CRAIG\n They ever let you hit the switches on\n that Cadillac?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Naw, them dudes is assholes. Especially\n that dog - Cheeco. Watch this little\n ass, he'", " quit me, I'm pregnant!\n\n DAY-DAY\n That ain't my baby!\n\n Day-Day spots the damage. He loses it.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n (in disbelief)\n Oh, my God! What you doing?!\n\n Now he's a madman.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Bitch! You keyed my car! I'mma kill\n you!\n\n Day-Day charges", "\n DAY-DAY\n Cheeco!\n\n Craig turns to see the pit bull \"Cheeco\" running right after\n him.\n\n KARLA\n Cheeco, no!\n\n Craig runs right towards Day-Day's BMW.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Oh shit, jump!\n\n They both jump on top of Day-Day's BMW with CHEECO coming up\n fast. He's BARKING viciously.\n\n ACROSS STREET\n\n", "I'm gone.\n\n Craig turns and sprints into the store. Baby'D looks\n concerned. Day-Day grabs Roach and they run into the store.\n\n BABY'D\n I'mma get you, Day-Day! You gotta come\n out sometimes!\n\n D'Wana hands her a brick.\n\n D'WANA\n I told you.\n\n Baby'D screams and throws the brick through Day-Day's\n WINDSHIELD.\n\n INT", ". The DOG CRIES and runs back across the street.\n\n The Jokers aren't laughing anymore. Joker stares at Craig.\n Craig stares back. You can feel the tension. Joker kicks\n the dog.\n\n JOKER\n Get yo dumb ass in the back.\n\n CHEECO HOLLERS. Craig and Day-Day get off the top of the\n BMW.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Look at my roof.\n\n Big dents in", "-Day tries to turn around. Craig grabs him.\n\n CRAIG\n It's about to work, just come on.\n\n ROACH\n (about to bite baloney)\n What about the dog?\n\n Craig slaps the baloney out of his hand.\n\n CRAIG\n That's what the baloney's for!\n\n All three kneel down next to a parked car. Day-Day looks\n sick.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, I don'", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle", " CLOSE-UP\n\n Big scratch on the side of Day-Day's car.\n\n WIDER\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n It ain't that bad, is it?\n\n Craig is still looking at Karla.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Craig! It ain't that bad, is it?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, it's bad. And that scratch make it\n ugly.\n\n Day-Day is starting to get", "tube of KY jelly. He removes the mask. Day-Day\n hands him the notice. Uncle Elroy takes it with his greasy\n hands.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Ah damn. Damn.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I got fired too.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What?!\n\n He starts to beat Day-Day with a sex toy.\n\n EXT. FREEWAY - MONTAGE SEQUENCE - AFTERNOON\n\n The dog truck ex", "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", "Day waiting for me.\n\n KARLA\n (getting even closer)\n So what? Let's make'em wait.\n\n Craig looks AT the CAMERA.\n\n CRAIG\n I be damn.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Day-Day and Roach are at Joker's front door.\n\n DAY-DAY\n You wanna knock?\n\n ROACH\n Go for it.\n\n Day-Day knocks", ") and\n BABY JOKER (15). They pull into their driveway.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Aw damn.\n\n In SLOW MOTION: One by one they get out the car. They have a\n dog with them named \"Cheeco.\" As they get to the front door\n they all look over at Craig and Day-Day.\n\n Day-Day looks away, while Craig keeps his eye on them. They\n disappear inside.\n\n CRAIG\n ", "D jumps out with a brick. She throws it\n through the back window of Day-Day's BMW. She jumps back in\n and they're gone...\n\n THE END.\n\n", "knocking?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Well, let me in.\n\n CRAIG\n Uncle Elroy, who's that girl by Day-Day's\n car?\n\n He looks.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Oh, that's D'Wana. His ex.\n (yelling upstairs)\n Day-Day, the crazy bitch is back!\n\n Day-Day runs down the stairs to get a look. He'", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "a long time now,\n Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Thanks for reminding me.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is left to look around, until something\n outside catches his eye.\n\n EXT. HOUSE\n\n It's D'WANA (20), Day-Day's six-month pregnant girlfriend.\n She's walking on the right side of his BMW. With one hand\n she waves at Craig...with the other hand she's keying Day-\n Day's car", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", "\n INT. DAY-DAY'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Day-Day's room is junky. Clothes are everywhere. He's\n putting on his Pinky's Records and Disc T-shirt. Craig comes\n in.\n\n CRAIG\n You straight?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I'm alright. Is my face still\n orange to you?\n\n Day-Day's face looks sunburned.\n\n CRAIG\n Just a", "D\n Day-Day, don't make me break this window!\n\n Craig is peeking out. He hesitates.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Watch out for Baby'D.\n\n Craig walks out the back. He steps over the door. Unlocks\n it, and cracks it open.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day ain't here.\n\n They don't believe him.\n\n D'WANA\n Who are you?\n\n CRAIG\n" ], [ "MORNING\n\n A run-down crack house sits alone in the middle of the block.\n It looks deserted with chipped paint, overgrown grass and\n security bars everywhere. Inside we can hear a FIGHT in\n progress.\n\n CRACK DEALER (O.S.)\n Ezal, I'm sick of you coming around here\n wit no money.\n\n Suddenly the door flies open and Ezal comes flying out on his\n ass.\n\n EZAL\n I be damned.\n\n He", "it --\n rowdy, rowdy?\n\n Craig can't believe his ears.\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I'm 'bout it.\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Well, then, it's all good. Yo, Day-Day,\n something is going down with those\n Mexicans across the street? I've been\n seeing a lot of activity.\n\n They all look over at the Joker's house.\n\n CRAIG\n What kind of activity?", "now.\n\n Day-Day follows.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Hurry up. He didn't have that much\n baloney.\n\n They sneak up to the side of the house. The MUSIC is\n BLEEDING THROUGH the walls.\n\n INSIDE HOUSE\n\n Li'l Joker is dancing with all 3 girls. They're all getting\n high and feeling good. One girl has come out of her blouse.\n The others start to follow her lead.", "K. Li'l Joker is in the corner\n with his girl, and Baby Joker is on the floor. Joker TURNS\n DOWN THE STEREO.\n\n JOKER\n You fuckin' lover boys hear that?\n\n BABY JOKER\n Hear what?\n\n The KNOCKING continues. Li'l Joker and Baby Joker push the\n girls aside and jump up. Li'l Joker grabs a big knife. Baby\n Joker grabs a ", "\n\n MISS HO KYM\n Strange activity. I think they running\n drugs off Tijuana. Day-Day don't believe\n me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n How do you know for sure?\n\n MISS HO KYM\n I know everything, playboy. Don't hate,\n congratulate.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I don't have time, Miss Ho, I'll see you\n later.\n\n Day-Day and Craig start to walk", "gets up and brushes himself off. He heads back into the\n crack house.\n\n EZAL (cont'd)\n Now look here, man. I'mma preferred\n customer and I can take my credit card\n somewhere else.\n\n SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Ezal is roughed up some more and\n flies through the picture window. GLASS rains down.\n\n EZAL (cont'd)\n Oh, my neck, oh, my back. Man, I quit", "FFS are on our heroes, guns drawn.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Wait a minute! I live across the street!\n\n SHERIFF LADY\n You do?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Yeah. Paid cash.\n\n DAY-DAY\n They the ones you want.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S STREET - CONTINUOUS\n\n Red and Blue lights flash through the neighborhood. Everyone\n is out their door looking at the", "...and some rolling papers, that's it.\n We didn't mean to mess up y'all get\n together or nothing.\n (to the Girls)\n How y'all doing?\n\n They answer --\n\n GIRLS\n Fine.\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's good. My name's Day-Day and this\n is my friend, Roach.\n\n ROACH\n (waving)\n Hey.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Ya'll", "BACK ON COUCH\n\n Craig is high. He's looking at the TV with a slight smile on\n his face. It seems like the walls are shaking. He looks\n over at Suga's glass and her wine is vibrating, like Jurassic\n Park. Plaster falls from the ceiling. He listens, it's\n Uncle Elroy and Suga making love.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (O.S.)\n Oh, baby, right there. Right\n there...bite the nip", " Craig ducks back.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT\n\n Day-Day and Roach are sitting on a couch looking nervous.\n The Joker brothers hold guns on them. The three half-dressed\n Mexican Girls look a bit scared themselves.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Look, man, this is a big\n misunderstanding. All we wanted to do is\n borrow some sugar.\n\n ROACH\n And some rolling papers.\n\n DAY-DAY\n ", "s truck sits in front of the house.\n\n A CHIHUAHUA (like the Taco Bell dog) takes a dump on the\n lawn. It starts to BARK at Debo. He looks down at the dog\n and kicks him in the street. The DOG YIPES!\n\n Debo focuses his attention on Craig's house.\n\n INT. JONES' HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n The hallway is clear and quiet, until MR. JONES (Craig's\n ", "-Day tries to turn around. Craig grabs him.\n\n CRAIG\n It's about to work, just come on.\n\n ROACH\n (about to bite baloney)\n What about the dog?\n\n Craig slaps the baloney out of his hand.\n\n CRAIG\n That's what the baloney's for!\n\n All three kneel down next to a parked car. Day-Day looks\n sick.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, I don'", "knocking?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Well, let me in.\n\n CRAIG\n Uncle Elroy, who's that girl by Day-Day's\n car?\n\n He looks.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Oh, that's D'Wana. His ex.\n (yelling upstairs)\n Day-Day, the crazy bitch is back!\n\n Day-Day runs down the stairs to get a look. He'", "D\n Day-Day, don't make me break this window!\n\n Craig is peeking out. He hesitates.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Watch out for Baby'D.\n\n Craig walks out the back. He steps over the door. Unlocks\n it, and cracks it open.\n\n CRAIG\n Day-Day ain't here.\n\n They don't believe him.\n\n D'WANA\n Who are you?\n\n CRAIG\n", "helicopters, no sirens,\n no drive-by's, no nothing. Just peace\n and quiet. Listen.\n\n They do. It is quiet, except for a few BIRDS SINGING.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Shit sound good, huh?\n\n Just then, a maroon Cadillac low-rider on Daytons rolls up\n the block. It's the Jokers: JOKER (28), LI'L JOKER (21", "live\n in peace and quiet.\n\n The neighborhood is full of green lawns and nice two story\n track homes as far as the eye can see. The yellow truck\n drives through the streets and pulls up to a cul-de-sac. Mr.\n Jones BLOWS the HORN.\n\n MR. JONES\n Nice neighborhood, huh?\n\n CRAIG\n It's alright.\n\n MR. JONES\n 18-years of chasing dogs; and my lazy", "door. Craig has no choice but to let 'em\n in.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's that boy that told me Day-Day was\n here?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know... I think he went out the\n back.\n\n D'WANA\n Can I look for myself?\n\n Suddenly Roach is pushed into the front area.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, ladies.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's Day-Day?", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "He carries it\n towards the house. Cheeco starts to hump his leg.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Get down.\n\n Baby Joker drops the pump, something falls out. (We can't\n see what it is.) Baby Joker quickly puts it back.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n CRAIG\n You see that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n I didn't see nothing.\n\n ROACH\n Me neither.\n\n CRAIG", "-hugs them.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Okay, okay, that's enough. Go put on\n some damn clothes.\n\n SUGA\n (pouting)\n Elroy.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Suga. Go ahead and get us something to\n smoke on.\n\n SUGA\n Okay.\n (winking)\n Bye, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Nice to meet you.\n\n Suga walks out.\n\n" ], [ "Just take it all.\n\n Just then, Day-Day and Roach come from the back.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Craig, what the hell are you doing?\n\n CRAIG\n Nothing.\n\n PINKY\n Day-Day, is this your cousin?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah.\n\n PINKY\n Good. You fired...and, Roach, your fired\n too.\n\n ROACH\n Why me?\n\n PINKY\n ", "Pinky\n gets here.\n\n ROACH\n Maybe you can ask him to loan you the\n money.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yoooo, that's it. You ain't as dumb as I\n think you are, Roach.\n\n ROACH\n I know.\n\n BACK INSIDE STORE\n\n Pinky and Craig are still scrambling for the gun. The store\n looks like a tornado hit it. Twice. Craig comes up with the\n pistol", "IG (V.O.)\n In a strange way, I feel responsible for\n Day-Day getting fired. If I wouldn't\n have fought Pinky, and gave Day-Day the\n joint, he'd still have a job.\n\n Day-Day walks into the house while Craig and Roach stay out\n on the porch.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - UPSTAIRS - MONTAGE SEQUENCE\n\n Uncle Elroy opens his bedroom door wearing a S&M mask and\n holding a", "of his ears. Craig and Day-Day get a kick out of\n that.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n A pink limo pulls to a stop. The chauffeur gets out wearing\n his suit just a little too tight. He opens the door and a\n pair of pink boots hit the pavement. The CAMERA PANS UP TO\n PINKY (35), the asshole owner.\n\n PINKY\n Look", "DAY-DAY\n Out the door and to the left.\n\n ROACH\n I thought the vacuum would work.\n\n IN HALLWAY\n\n Craig makes a left and grabs the knob. He feels something\n pressing on the back of his head (gun).\n\n PINKY\n (whispering)\n Don't move or I'll blow your head smooth\n off.\n\n Craig throws his hands up.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Now back up slowly...", ", man, you hittin' them goddamn\n corners too fast. Slow down. I almost\n spilled my Hennessy on this 300 dollar\n suit.\n\n He walks over to the door. He thinks it's open. It's not.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I be damn.\n\n He shakes the door. It's locked. He looks inside. No one's\n at the counter. Cassettes all over the floor. Pinky", "and don't say a\n word.\n\n He obeys. Pinky backs Craig into the store.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Get on the floor.\n\n Craig gets down.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n Little mothafucka trying to rob me.\n I'mma show you how I do 'em.\n\n CRAIG\n I ain't trying to rob you...\n\n PINKY\n Shut up! Fo' I pump this", ")\n You ain't got no gun, but where's the\n weed at? I smell it.\n\n Craig says nothing.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I'mma tie you ass up!\n\n Pinky backs up and steps on Roach's skateboard. The gun goes\n flying and so does he. Pinky falls on his ass. The 9mm\n lands in front of Craig. There's a big scramble for the gun.\n\n BACK STORAGE ARE", "Glock in yo'\n ass! What did you do wit Day-Day and\n Roach?\n\n CRAIG\n Man, Day-Day is my people!\n\n PINKY\n I said shut up! Now who sent you?\n\n CRAIG\n Nobody!\n\n PINKY\n If you say another word, it's over. I'm\n not playing!\n\n Pinky starts to pat down Craig's pockets.\n\n PINKY (cont'd", "him ducking out the\n back door.\n\n D'WANA\n He's in there!\n\n INSIDE STORE\n\n Baby'D knocks Craig out of the way.\n\n BABY'D\n Where is he?\n\n D'WANA\n He ran out the door.\n\n Baby'D gives chase with D'Wana, Craig and Roach close behind.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS", ". Pinky jumps on the ground.\n\n PINKY\n Don't kill me.\n\n Craig is exhausted. He stands over Pinky with the gun.\n\n CRAIG\n Shut up. I been trying to tell yo' ass\n that... Day-Day is my cousin. They're\n right there in the back.\n\n PINKY\n Whatever you say, man. I didn't see\n shit. The safe combination is 34-5-27.\n ", ". PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS\n\n DAY-DAY\n What was that?\n\n ROACH\n (looking out window)\n You don't wanna know.\n\n Day-Day is devastated.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Thanks a lot, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n I know we cousins and all, but don't try\n an' hook me up with the big little\n sisters.\n\n DAY-DAY", "TERNOON\n\n Cars pull in and out of this 12 store strip mall where\n Pinky's is located.\n\n INT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - AFTERNOON\n\n Everything is pink inside this mom and pop record store. The\n latest RAP HIT PLAYS in the B.G. A few people exit the store\n with bags.\n\n Day-Day is scanning inventory. A bud-head by the name of\n ROACH is on top of the counter with his", "(cont'd)\n I gotta get to Pinky's before I get fired\n like you.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is close behind.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n As they walk out the front door, someone catches Craig's eye.\n It's KARLA (23), the Joker brothers' fine sister. She's\n leaning against the lowrider, looking into her purse. She\n waves at them.\n", "I smell weed.\n\n He looks up at Craig.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n And you...you lucky. I was just about to\n get in yo' ass. Now give me my pistol\n back and get the hell out my store.\n\n Craig looks at Day-Day. Day-Day looks back at him. Nobody's\n high now.\n\n EXT. FREEWAY - MONTAGE SEQUENCE - AFTERNOON\n\n Mr. Jones' dog truck is weaving in and out", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "\n INT. DAY-DAY'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Day-Day's room is junky. Clothes are everywhere. He's\n putting on his Pinky's Records and Disc T-shirt. Craig comes\n in.\n\n CRAIG\n You straight?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Yeah, I'm alright. Is my face still\n orange to you?\n\n Day-Day's face looks sunburned.\n\n CRAIG\n Just a", "\n Big bitches need love, too, Craig.\n\n ROACH\n For sure. That's how I like 'em.\n\n CRAIG\n Not me.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Are they still out there?\n\n ROACH\n Negative...they vamped.\n\n Day-Day starts to walk into the back storage area.\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Shouldn't we straighten up out here\n before Pinky gets back?\n\n Day-Day", "tube of KY jelly. He removes the mask. Day-Day\n hands him the notice. Uncle Elroy takes it with his greasy\n hands.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Ah damn. Damn.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I got fired too.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What?!\n\n He starts to beat Day-Day with a sex toy.\n\n EXT. FREEWAY - MONTAGE SEQUENCE - AFTERNOON\n\n The dog truck ex", "out here on my break. Nobody quits me.\n\n D'Wana runs to her car. She speeds off. Uncle Elroy goes\n for the water hose. Craig grabs Day-Day.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I can't see! I can't see! Daddy!\n\n CRAIG\n Lay down, Day-Day. Stop moving.\n\n Craig puts him on the grass.\n\n DAY-DAY\n She pepper-sprayed me, man! She" ], [ ".\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, Roach, see you around.\n\n CRAIG\n Sorry about today, man.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah, me too. Later.\n\n He attempts to jump off the porch with his board and lands\n dead on his ass once again. His board continues to roll.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Man, sit down. I can't think with you\n falling everywhere.\n\n His board continues to roll into the street. At this same\n", " time, Joker's low-rider rolls by and breaks his board in two.\n Roach runs to pick up the pieces.\n\n ROACH\n My board!\n\n The Joker Bros. back their low-rider into the driveway. They\n have no sympathy. Cheeco (the pitbull) is in the back yard.\n He's happy to see them.\n\n They stroll into the house with three Mexican girls with\n them. Joker spots our trio looking.\n\n J", "skateboard.\n\n ROACH\n Yo, Day-Day! Check me out.\n\n He tries to jump off the counter and land perfectly on his\n board. Wrong! Off the board and on his ass.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Look, Roach, I know you ain't never\n worked in a record shop before and you're\n a little excited. But if Pinky catches\n you doing that X-Games shit off his\n counter top, we both getting fired. You\n", "EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S PORCH - MONTAGE SEQUENCE - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n Craig, Day-Day and Roach are sitting on the porch thinking.\n\n DAY-DAY\n What we gonna do?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know yet.\n\n ROACH\n I know what I'mma do. Go home and face\n the music. My dad is gonna kick my ass\n for getting fired again.\n\n He gets on his skateboard", "OKER\n What the fuck you looking at?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Nothing.\n\n ROACH\n You ran over my board!\n\n JOKER\n So what? It shouldn't have been in the\n street.\n\n They disappear into the house.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n Craig has a twinkle in his eyes and Roach walks over, pissed.\n\n ROACH\n Who the fuck is that, Day-Day?\n\n DAY-DAY\n ", "\n\n ROACH (cont'd)\n Cheeco's got to be the dumbest fuckin'\n mutt in the whole wide U.S.A.\n\n CHEECO is running at Roach full speed. He jumps on the fence\n and starts to BARK with everything he's got. Roach drops the\n baloney.\n\n CRAIG AND DAY-DAY\n\n ...hear the DOG BARKING and freeze in their tracks. Day-Day\n tries to run. Craig", ", no problem. We gone.\n\n ROACH\n Hold on. A man, you broke my fuckin'\n board and I don't appreciate it.\n\n Immediately Day-Day and Roach are snatched inside the house,\n and the door is SLAMMED.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Mr. Jones' dog truck pulls to a stop. He gets out and runs\n to the house. He KNOCKS. Uncle Elroy", "\n\n Day-Day runs around the side of Pinky's Records store. He\n stops to see if anyone is coming. It's Baby'D with the three\n others trailing. Baby'D is chasing Day-Day all through the\n parking lot. Craig, D'Wana and Roach stop to watch.\n\n ROACH\n Haul ass, dude. Don't stop.\n\n ...and he is.\n\n CRAIG\n You better stop running from that girl.\n\n DAY", "Let it go, Roach, trust me.\n\n ROACH\n I'm not letting nothing go. They killed\n my board.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go!\n\n Craig is looking over at the Joker's house. Baby Joker walks\n out the front door. He walks over to the rider and POPS the\n TRUNK.\n\n CRAIG\n Wait. Check'em out.\n\n Baby Joker pulls out a chrome hydraulic pump. ", "door. Craig has no choice but to let 'em\n in.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's that boy that told me Day-Day was\n here?\n\n CRAIG\n I don't know... I think he went out the\n back.\n\n D'WANA\n Can I look for myself?\n\n Suddenly Roach is pushed into the front area.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, ladies.\n\n D'WANA\n Where's Day-Day?", "\n fence. No sign of Cheeco. Roach opens the pack of baloney\n and pulls out a slice.\n\n ROACH\n (nervous whisper)\n Here, Cheeco. Chee-co, here boy. That's\n a good boy.\n\n It's pitch-black behind the fence, still no Cheeco.\n\n PARKED CAR - SAME TIME\n\n Craig makes a move.\n\n CRAIG\n Come on, he should have'em by", "DAY-DAY\n $247.\n\n CRAIG\n Okay, plan B.\n\n Day-Day is overwhelmed. Roach skates back over.\n\n ROACH\n That was a girl on a cell phone. She\n said she's outside in the parking lot\n waiting for you to take her to lunch.\n\n Day-Day looks at Craig. He runs over to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE IN THE PARKING LOT\n\n D'Wana sits in her car with her play", "-DAY\n Fuuuuuuck -- U!\n\n He runs back towards his BMW. The chase continues around his\n car. Baby'D is starting to tire.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n I'mma shoot yo' big ass.\n\n D'Wana watches from a distance. Craig and Roach are close.\n\n ROACH\n (smiling)\n She moves well for a big girl.\n\n Just then, out of nowhere, Karla appears behind them carrying\n a couple", "Thanks for the help.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, man, the pleasure's all mine.\n Thanks for the dog, and the money. Maybe\n my dad won't kick my ass tonight.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Call me.\n\n ROACH\n Okay, later, bro. Hey, Craig, nice\n smokin' wit'cha.\n\n CRAIG\n You too.\n\n MR. JONES\n Smokin' what?\n\n CRA", "towards the storage room.\n\n CRAIG\n Where you going?\n\n D'WANA\n Ain't the rest room this way? I gotta\n pee.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah.\n\n D'WANA\n Thank you.\n\n As she's walking in the back, Roach realizes his mistake.\n\n BACK STORAGE AREA\n\n DAY-DAY\n Shit.\n\n Day-Day makes a run for it. She spots", ")\n You ain't got no gun, but where's the\n weed at? I smell it.\n\n Craig says nothing.\n\n PINKY (cont'd)\n I'mma tie you ass up!\n\n Pinky backs up and steps on Roach's skateboard. The gun goes\n flying and so does he. Pinky falls on his ass. The 9mm\n lands in front of Craig. There's a big scramble for the gun.\n\n BACK STORAGE ARE", "him and he falls into the Rap cassette rack.\n\n CUSTOMER #1\n I'm sorry! Don't hit me! Don't hit me.\n\n He jumps up and slips on a few more cassettes on his scramble\n out the door.\n\n DAY-DAY\n ...and if you come back, it's gonna be\n worse.\n\n Roach can't believe what just happened.\n\n ROACH\n Did you see that? That was a W", "him ducking out the\n back door.\n\n D'WANA\n He's in there!\n\n INSIDE STORE\n\n Baby'D knocks Craig out of the way.\n\n BABY'D\n Where is he?\n\n D'WANA\n He ran out the door.\n\n Baby'D gives chase with D'Wana, Craig and Roach close behind.\n\n EXT. PINKY'S RECORDS AND DISC - CONTINUOUS", "looks\n around making sure no one sneaks up on him. He reaches under\n his shirt and pulls out a Glock 9mm. Sticks his key in the\n door and steps in.\n\n BACK STORE AREA - CLOSE UP - ROACH\n\n is upside down. All the blood has rushed to his head. He\n has Chinaman eyes and a big smile on his face.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Roach, what are you doing?\n\n ROACH\n R-U", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle" ], [ "a turns around to check the door.\n\n KARLA\n You so nervous, I already locked this\n door.\n\n Craig drops a thick roll of money into her purse. She shakes\n the knob.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n See. All locked.\n\n She walks over to him. They're face-to-face.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n What's your hurry?\n\n CRAIG\n I got my cousin Day-", "smiling.\n\n CRAIG\n You want us to give you a ride?\n\n KARLA\n I don't know.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean, you don't know? Just wait\n here.\n\n Craig starts to trot over towards Day-Day. Day-Day is\n frantically waving Craig to hurry.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What are you worried about?\n\n Day-Day's eyes get as big as golf balls.\n", "-DAY\n He's inside the house?\n\n ROACH\n Why did he go in the house?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Don't worry about it. We gotta figure\n out a way to get Craig out of there.\n He's probably getting tied up now.\n\n INT. KARLA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig is sweating. Karla is standing in front of him.\n\n KARLA\n You did all this for me?\n\n ", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", "of bags. She taps Craig on his shoulder. He turns\n around.\n\n KARLA\n Hello, remember me?\n\n CRAIG\n Hell yeah, I remember you.\n\n KARLA\n I'm sorry for what my brother did this\n morning. They're assholes.\n\n CRAIG\n It's cool. You ain't got to apologize\n for your brothers. They're big boys.\n\n KARLA\n I just wanted to", "mad.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n It's long and crooked...make you not\n wanna even drive it.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Alright, alright... I see what you\n talking about.\n\n Karla looks at her watch and starts to walk up the street.\n This is Craig's chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Hold up, Day-Day.\n\n He trots after her.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Let it go.\n\n Karl", "CRAIG\n Most of it. I just hate to see you in\n this situation.\n\n KARLA\n Thanks for noticing. It used ta be\n peaceful before they got out. Took over\n the house and caused my mother's nervous\n breakdown.\n\n CRAIG\n Why didn't she put'em out?\n\n KARLA\n Easier said than done. We saved up to\n get away from them, but they followed us.\n\n CRAIG\n", "be\n scared of 'em neither if you had a man\n like me in yo' life.\n\n KARLA\n What?? So you snuck in my room to tell\n me that?\n\n CRAIG\n Yes I did. Excuse me.\n\n Her door flies open. Smashing Craig behind it. It's Li'l\n Joker.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Who you talking to?\n\n Craig looks nervous.\n\n KARLA\n Nobody", "a is still walking.\n\n CRAIG\n Hey! Hey!\n\n She stops and waits for him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n I'm Day-Day's cousin, Craig. What's your\n name?\n\n KARLA\n Karla.\n\n CRAIG\n Craig and Karla, damn that sound pretty\n good together. Where you going?\n\n KARLA\n To the Cucamonga shopping center.\n\n ", "'t see him, but he's frozen.\n Then she turns around and he startles her.\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing?\n\n Think fast, Craig.\n\n CRAIG\n Huh?\n\n KARLA\n What are you doing here?\n\n CRAIG\n I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but I\n just had to come in here and show you I\n ain't scared of yo' punk ass\n brothers...and you wouldn't have", " I'm sorry to hear that.\n\n Craig walks over to the window.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n Can I get out this way?\n\n Karla walks up behind him, looking very sexy.\n\n KARLA\n I thought you came up here to see me.\n\n Craig turns around.\n\n CRAIG\n I did. Is that door locked?\n\n KARLA\n It's locked.\n\n CRAIG\n Make sure.\n\n Karl", "give you this.\n\n She hands him a card with her number on it.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n If my brothers wasn't so over-protective,\n I'd have you call the house. But for now\n just page me when you get a chance.\n\n CRAIG\n Most definitely.\n\n KARLA\n Better sooner than later.\n\n She picks up her shopping bags and walks away. Over at the\n chase: Baby'D is winded. She b", "feud, you can always go back to\n home. I gotta live here. Just remember\n that.\n\n He slams the door, starts the car and backs up. Leaving\n Craig standing there. He sees Karla walking away. He looks\n over at the Jokers. They're still staring hard. Craig just\n looks away and walks into the house.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps into the house.\n\n UNCLE", "\n She gives Craig a big, juicy hug and kiss, grabbing his ass\n in the process.\n\n SUGA (cont'd)\n (hugging and grabbing)\n You even cuter than your baby pictures.\n\n CRAIG\n Thank you.\n\n SUGA\n (whispering in Craig's ear)\n You know, I'mma be your new auntie. We\n can keep it all in the family if you want\n to.\n\n Uncle Elroy un", "\n KARLA\n (friendly)\n Hi!\n\n Craig and Day-Day are mesmerized.\n\n BOTH\n (waving back)\n HEY!\n\n Craig and Karla's eyes meet. She smiles.\n\n CRAIG\n Who is that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n That's the sister.\n\n CRAIG\n Yo know what? I'm starting to like\n Rancho Cucamonga.\n\n ", "STAIRWAY - CONTINUOUS\n\n Baby Joker has his back turned when we see Craig sprint\n behind him and up the stairs. Baby Joker turns around. He\n thinks he saw something. He slowly starts to walk up the\n stairs.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Karla!\n\n INT. KARLA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n Karla is in her room working out. Craig runs in. He's\n shocked to see her. She doesn", " CLOSE-UP\n\n Big scratch on the side of Day-Day's car.\n\n WIDER\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n It ain't that bad, is it?\n\n Craig is still looking at Karla.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Craig! It ain't that bad, is it?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, it's bad. And that scratch make it\n ugly.\n\n Day-Day is starting to get", ".\n\n Craig climbs out the window. He loses his footing and free\n falls into some bushes.\n\n KARLA\n You alright?\n\n CRAIG\n Yeah, I'm cool. See you later.\n\n He runs past a sleeping Cheeco and hops the fence. Free at\n last. He's about to run back across the street when he sees\n the dog truck.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd)\n What is he doing here?\n\n", ".)\n\n ROACH\n Great moves, Day-Day.\n\n CRAIG\n What happen?\n\n DAY-DAY\n We worked out a deal. All you gotta do\n is go over there and talk to Baby'D.\n\n Craig looks over at Baby'D. She's waiting.\n\n CRAIG\n What you mean talk to her?\n\n ROACH\n (still smiling)\n You know what he mean, dude.\n\n CRAIG\n ", "(cont'd)\n I gotta get to Pinky's before I get fired\n like you.\n\n Day-Day exits. Craig is close behind.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n As they walk out the front door, someone catches Craig's eye.\n It's KARLA (23), the Joker brothers' fine sister. She's\n leaning against the lowrider, looking into her purse. She\n waves at them.\n" ], [ "K. Li'l Joker is in the corner\n with his girl, and Baby Joker is on the floor. Joker TURNS\n DOWN THE STEREO.\n\n JOKER\n You fuckin' lover boys hear that?\n\n BABY JOKER\n Hear what?\n\n The KNOCKING continues. Li'l Joker and Baby Joker push the\n girls aside and jump up. Li'l Joker grabs a big knife. Baby\n Joker grabs a ", " Joker, Li'l Joker and Baby Joker are across the street\n laughing. Karla is embarrassed.\n\n ON BMW\n\n Craig is breathing hard but he's calm, but Day-Day is\n terrified.\n\n DAY-DAY (cont'd)\n Hey, Joker! Stop playing, man! Call the\n dog back!\n\n They continue to laugh. Craig pulls his belt off. He swings\n it and hits Cheeco in the middle of his forehead with the\n buckle", "L JOKER\n Junior?! Junior?!\n\n No answer. Suddenly he spots something over by the shed.\n It's Baby Joker all ties up.\n\n LI'L JOKER (cont'd)\n What the...\n\n He runs to the rescue. But right before he gets to him,\n Uncle Elroy jumps out the bushes and takes him. \"Ronnie Lott\n Style.\" Mr. Jones steps in with the stick. Craig steps in\n with the rope, and it's over", " JOKER (cont'd)\n If you don't tell me where my money is,\n I'mma show you how close we can get.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Money? Man, we came over here from some\n sugar and rolling papers. We was going\n to get high, and I was going to show this\n white boy how to make Kool-Aid. That's\n all.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, mister Joker, have a heart, bro.\n It'", "Baby\n Joker returns.\n\n BABY JOKER\n (in Spanish)\n Some of the money is missing.\n\n JOKER\n (upset)\n What?!?!\n\n DAY-DAY\n What?!\n (as he looks at Roach)\n What that mean?\n\n ROACH\n I don't know.\n\n JOKER\n It means you Miyateas are staying with\n us.\n (to Baby Joker)\n", "flies open and Craig is out there just in\n time.\n\n JOKER\n I don't want no doors locked around here.\n You hear me?\n\n Joker walks in and hits the lights. He throws the girl on\n the bed.\n\n GIRL #2\n Oh, poppy, I like it rough.\n\n JOKER\n (taking off shirt)\n Good, 'cause that's how you gonna get it.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE -", "\n Baby Joker obeys the order.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Here comes Karla, put the guns away.\n\n JOKER\n Keep your mouth shut.\n\n Karla walks back in.\n\n KARLA\n Hey, what's going on?\n\n JOKER\n Nothing. What you want?\n\n KARLA\n Are you going to take me to see Mom?\n\n JOKER\n Take your car.\n\n KARLA", "- CONTINUOUS\n\n The SA brothers are having a good time. Joker is getting\n nasty with one of the Girls. He pulls her by the hand.\n\n GIRL #2\n No.\n\n JOKER\n Fuck that.\n\n Joker picks her up and carries her to the bedroom. She\n screams. He laughs. He goes for the door. It's locked.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Who locked this door?\n\n ", " time, Joker's low-rider rolls by and breaks his board in two.\n Roach runs to pick up the pieces.\n\n ROACH\n My board!\n\n The Joker Bros. back their low-rider into the driveway. They\n have no sympathy. Cheeco (the pitbull) is in the back yard.\n He's happy to see them.\n\n They stroll into the house with three Mexican girls with\n them. Joker spots our trio looking.\n\n J", ".\n\n LI'L JOKER\n I heard a voice.\n\n KARLA\n No you didn't. Get out my room. Go back\n down to your little girlfriends.\n\n Karla pushes Li'l Joker out.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is having a fit.\n\n GIRL #2 (O.S.)\n Shut the window.\n\n JOK", "arms. Roach's\n being licked to death by the pitbull.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Finally you got a bitch, huh, Roach?\n\n ROACH\n He's a boy, dude.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Out front, three sheriff cars swoop into the driveway. The\n cops jump out, guns drawn.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUO", "ER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is pissed.\n\n JOKER\n Where are these fucking guys?\n\n He storms out the room. Day-Day and Roach try to escape.\n They flap around on the ground like a fish out of water.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n The back door flies open. Joker appears with the AK-47 in\n hand. He spots Uncle El", "to cry. Roach tries to scream through the\n tape. Joker turns to Li'l Joker.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Go see what's taking him so long.\n\n Li'l Joker obeys. We FOLLOW Li'l Joker THROUGH the house and\n OUT the back door.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n Li'l Joker stands at the back door.\n\n LI'", " Get the duct tape.\n (to Li'l Joker)\n You know what to do.\n\n Li'l Joker turns to the girls.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Put your clothes back on.\n\n The scared Girls start to dress.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Karla backs up the rider and she's out. The Joker house\n looks quiet. Then the door opens and three Girls walk out.\n\n LI'L J", "\n Uncle Elroy falls off the fence.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Damn.\n\n Craig & Mr. Jones helps him up. They creep over to the\n window - the shades are pulled down.\n\n CRAIG\n I'm not sure, but I think they're in this\n room.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is getting tired of the games. And Day-Day is pleading\n", "em, Craig!\n\n ROACH\n Bite his ear!\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n What 'em! Watch 'em!\n\n Joker takes a few more shots from Craig, then grabs Craig\n around the waist and slams him to the ground. Craig is hurt.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Get off yo' back, Craig!\n\n Craig struggles with Joker, who now has the devil in his\n eyes.\n\n CRAIG\n Ya'll", "MR. JONES\n The skills are still intact. Now tie his\n ass up, Elroy.\n\n He does.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n The terror continues.\n\n JOKER\n My little brother went out to get my\n chainsaw. I'mma show you what happens to\n fools who don't tell me what I wanna\n hear. You ever see Scarface, mothafucka?\n\n Day-Day starts", "9mm. Joker looks at the girls.\n\n JOKER\n Don't fuckin' move.\n\n They won't. The brothers run to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE\n\n Roach is still kicking.\n\n DAY-DAY\n What's wrong with you, fool. Stop\n kicking their door. They might think we\n the police.\n\n The front door swings open and before we know it. Day-Day's\n got an AK pointed in his face,", " Craig ducks back.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT\n\n Day-Day and Roach are sitting on a couch looking nervous.\n The Joker brothers hold guns on them. The three half-dressed\n Mexican Girls look a bit scared themselves.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Look, man, this is a big\n misunderstanding. All we wanted to do is\n borrow some sugar.\n\n ROACH\n And some rolling papers.\n\n DAY-DAY\n ", " for his life.\n\n JOKER\n Tape his mouth shut.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Joker, a man like yourself can do a lot\n for this community. By letting us go,\n you can improve black and brown\n relations.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah, brown and white relations, too.\n\n Day-Day looks at Roach.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Boy, you gonna get us killed.\n\n Li'l Joker grabs Day-Day and tapes his" ], [ "\n Baby Joker obeys the order.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Here comes Karla, put the guns away.\n\n JOKER\n Keep your mouth shut.\n\n Karla walks back in.\n\n KARLA\n Hey, what's going on?\n\n JOKER\n Nothing. What you want?\n\n KARLA\n Are you going to take me to see Mom?\n\n JOKER\n Take your car.\n\n KARLA", "\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Uncle Elroy catches up with Craig and Mr. Jones on the side\n of Joker's house. He has a big chrome .357 magnum.\n\n CRAIG\n That's a nice piece of heat right there.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Thank you. I only got two bullets in the\n mothafucka, but it's better than nothing.\n\n MR. JON", " The bedroom door is cracked. Craig walks over\n and shuts the door gently. He locks it. Then he creeps over\n to the dresser. He pulls out the pump and sets it on the\n bed. He opens it, revealing all the bundled-up money packed\n in. He starts to stuff it in his pockets.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Day-Day is trying to keep his composure.\n\n INT. DEN", "ER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is pissed.\n\n JOKER\n Where are these fucking guys?\n\n He storms out the room. Day-Day and Roach try to escape.\n They flap around on the ground like a fish out of water.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS\n\n The back door flies open. Joker appears with the AK-47 in\n hand. He spots Uncle El", "9mm. Joker looks at the girls.\n\n JOKER\n Don't fuckin' move.\n\n They won't. The brothers run to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE\n\n Roach is still kicking.\n\n DAY-DAY\n What's wrong with you, fool. Stop\n kicking their door. They might think we\n the police.\n\n The front door swings open and before we know it. Day-Day's\n got an AK pointed in his face,", "roy in the middle of the yard bent\n over. He lifts the AK.\n\n JOKER\n What you doing here?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n I lost something, nigga. What it look\n like?\n\n JOKER\n Looks like a dead man.\n\n Out of nowhere, Craig hits Joker from the back. He flies one\n way and the gun flies another. Now it's really on! Hand-to-\n hand combat. Craig vs. Joker", "K. Li'l Joker is in the corner\n with his girl, and Baby Joker is on the floor. Joker TURNS\n DOWN THE STEREO.\n\n JOKER\n You fuckin' lover boys hear that?\n\n BABY JOKER\n Hear what?\n\n The KNOCKING continues. Li'l Joker and Baby Joker push the\n girls aside and jump up. Li'l Joker grabs a big knife. Baby\n Joker grabs a ", "\n 'Take your car?'\n\n JOKER\n Yeah, and hurry up.\n\n Karla doesn't believe it.\n\n KARLA\n Okay.\n\n She grabs the keys off the bar.\n\n KARLA (cont'd)\n I'll be back in a bit. 'Bye.\n\n She's out the door. Joker turns to Day-Day and Roach.\n\n JOKER\n If everything's alright. We might let\n ", "\n Uncle Elroy falls off the fence.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Damn.\n\n Craig & Mr. Jones helps him up. They creep over to the\n window - the shades are pulled down.\n\n CRAIG\n I'm not sure, but I think they're in this\n room.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is getting tired of the games. And Day-Day is pleading\n", "He carries it\n towards the house. Cheeco starts to hump his leg.\n\n BABY JOKER\n Get down.\n\n Baby Joker drops the pump, something falls out. (We can't\n see what it is.) Baby Joker quickly puts it back.\n\n BACK ON PORCH\n\n CRAIG\n You see that?\n\n DAY-DAY\n I didn't see nothing.\n\n ROACH\n Me neither.\n\n CRAIG", "\n\n JOKER\n I'll take you later.\n\n KARLA\n When? After you get all drunk and\n loaded?\n\n JOKER\n Hey! I said I'll take your fuckin' ass\n later. Now get out of here. You're\n scaring our company.\n\n Karla storms out the room. Baby Joker walks in carrying the\n chrome pump.\n\n JOKER (cont'd)\n Get up.\n\n ", "oker.\n\n JOKER\n Alright, put it in that drawer.\n\n Joker hands Baby Joker the money. He puts it away. They\n start to exit the room.\n\n OUTSIDE JOKER'S BEDROOM WINDOW - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig is still looking. Day-Day is scared shitless. He's\n looking for Cheeco.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (whispering)\n What you see?\n\n ", "an AK-\n 47.\n\n JOKER\n (smiling)\n Say hello to my little friend.\n\n BOOM!\n\n Debo hits Joker from the back. Joker is out cold.\n\n DEBO\n No way, Jose. This one is mine.\n\n Ezal picks up the gun and hands it to Debo.\n\n DEBO (cont'd)\n Hi, Craig, remember me?\n\n Craig knows he can't fight a gun. Every", ". JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps out of Joker's front door carrying the chrome\n hydraulic pump.\n\n CRAIG\n I love Fridays.\n\n He walks past the cops and crosses the street.\n\n ROACH\n There he go.\n\n MR. JONES\n What the hell is he carrying?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Property taxes, and a new candy-apple\n paint job.\n\n They greet", " JOKER (cont'd)\n If you don't tell me where my money is,\n I'mma show you how close we can get.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Money? Man, we came over here from some\n sugar and rolling papers. We was going\n to get high, and I was going to show this\n white boy how to make Kool-Aid. That's\n all.\n\n ROACH\n Hey, mister Joker, have a heart, bro.\n It'", "arms. Roach's\n being licked to death by the pitbull.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Finally you got a bitch, huh, Roach?\n\n ROACH\n He's a boy, dude.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Out front, three sheriff cars swoop into the driveway. The\n cops jump out, guns drawn.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUO", "flies open and Craig is out there just in\n time.\n\n JOKER\n I don't want no doors locked around here.\n You hear me?\n\n Joker walks in and hits the lights. He throws the girl on\n the bed.\n\n GIRL #2\n Oh, poppy, I like it rough.\n\n JOKER\n (taking off shirt)\n Good, 'cause that's how you gonna get it.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE -", "mouth shut. He does\n the same to Roach.\n\n JOKER\n I'm sick and tired of bullshitting with\n you guys.\n (in Spanish)\n Baby brother, go get the chainsaw.\n\n Baby Joker hands him the AK and he's gone. Day-Day and Roach\n look terrified. Everything has turned serious.\n\n INT. MR. JONES' DOG TRUCK - CONTINUOUS\n\n Debo and Ezal are still asleep. ", "es. I can take the little one.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Are you out your mind? I'm not messing\n with them S.A.'s boy. You must be crazy.\n\n CRAIG\n Could be. Rather be crazy than homeless.\n Now all we need is a big pack of baloney.\n\n Day-Day and Roach look at each other.\n\n BOTH\n Baloney??\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT\n", " for his life.\n\n JOKER\n Tape his mouth shut.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Joker, a man like yourself can do a lot\n for this community. By letting us go,\n you can improve black and brown\n relations.\n\n ROACH\n Yeah, brown and white relations, too.\n\n Day-Day looks at Roach.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Boy, you gonna get us killed.\n\n Li'l Joker grabs Day-Day and tapes his" ], [ "US\n\n Debo and Ezal are tied up next to the Jokers.\n\n EZAL\n Mr. Jones, we was just playin'. He made\n me do it.\n\n Mr. Jones don't wanna hear it. Craig runs into the house.\n Uncle, Day-Day, Roach and Cheeco look at the five on the\n ground...it's over, or is it?\n\n SHERIFF #3\n Freeze, Sheriff's Department!\n\n The SHERI", "K. Li'l Joker is in the corner\n with his girl, and Baby Joker is on the floor. Joker TURNS\n DOWN THE STEREO.\n\n JOKER\n You fuckin' lover boys hear that?\n\n BABY JOKER\n Hear what?\n\n The KNOCKING continues. Li'l Joker and Baby Joker push the\n girls aside and jump up. Li'l Joker grabs a big knife. Baby\n Joker grabs a ", "arms. Roach's\n being licked to death by the pitbull.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Finally you got a bitch, huh, Roach?\n\n ROACH\n He's a boy, dude.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Out front, three sheriff cars swoop into the driveway. The\n cops jump out, guns drawn.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S BACKYARD - CONTINUO", "FFS are on our heroes, guns drawn.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Wait a minute! I live across the street!\n\n SHERIFF LADY\n You do?\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Yeah. Paid cash.\n\n DAY-DAY\n They the ones you want.\n\n EXT. UNCLE ELROY'S STREET - CONTINUOUS\n\n Red and Blue lights flash through the neighborhood. Everyone\n is out their door looking at the", "They flash\n their lights on him.\n\n CRAIG (cont'd) (V.O.)\n Last Friday; I got fired for the first\n time. I got high for the first time. I\n got shot at for the first time and I\n kicked Debo's ass for the first time...\n\n They get him to his feet; but he stumbles and falls in the\n bushes like a knocked out prize fighter. The sheriffs laugh\n at him.\n\n Debo looks dazed and confused.", "body is helpless. We\n can hear SIRENS getting CLOSER and CLOSER. Suddenly, out of\n nowhere...\n\n CHEECO!\n\n The pitbull is back! And he's mad as hell. He runs through\n everybody and jumps on Debo, knocking the gun from his hand.\n Craig and Day-Day jump on Debo. Roach WHISTLES, and Cheeco\n stops his attack on Debo.\n\n Cheeco runs over to Roach and jumps in his", "out here on my break. Nobody quits me.\n\n D'Wana runs to her car. She speeds off. Uncle Elroy goes\n for the water hose. Craig grabs Day-Day.\n\n DAY-DAY\n I can't see! I can't see! Daddy!\n\n CRAIG\n Lay down, Day-Day. Stop moving.\n\n Craig puts him on the grass.\n\n DAY-DAY\n She pepper-sprayed me, man! She", "\n\n\n\n\n EXT. FRONT LAWN - OVERHEAD SHOT - NIGHT\n\n DEBO is laid out on the grass.\n\n CRAIG (V.O.)\n In the movies, when you beat up the\n neighborhood bully; you suppose to live\n happily ever after. But around here;\n that's when all the drama begins...\n\n Blue and red police lights flash over Debo's body. Two\n sheriffs walk INTO OUR FRAME and stand over Debo. ", "9mm. Joker looks at the girls.\n\n JOKER\n Don't fuckin' move.\n\n They won't. The brothers run to the door.\n\n OUTSIDE\n\n Roach is still kicking.\n\n DAY-DAY\n What's wrong with you, fool. Stop\n kicking their door. They might think we\n the police.\n\n The front door swings open and before we know it. Day-Day's\n got an AK pointed in his face,", "\n Uncle Elroy falls off the fence.\n\n UNCLE ELROY (cont'd)\n Damn.\n\n Craig & Mr. Jones helps him up. They creep over to the\n window - the shades are pulled down.\n\n CRAIG\n I'm not sure, but I think they're in this\n room.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE - DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n Joker is getting tired of the games. And Day-Day is pleading\n", "now.\n\n Day-Day follows.\n\n DAY-DAY\n Hurry up. He didn't have that much\n baloney.\n\n They sneak up to the side of the house. The MUSIC is\n BLEEDING THROUGH the walls.\n\n INSIDE HOUSE\n\n Li'l Joker is dancing with all 3 girls. They're all getting\n high and feeling good. One girl has come out of her blouse.\n The others start to follow her lead.", "flies open and Craig is out there just in\n time.\n\n JOKER\n I don't want no doors locked around here.\n You hear me?\n\n Joker walks in and hits the lights. He throws the girl on\n the bed.\n\n GIRL #2\n Oh, poppy, I like it rough.\n\n JOKER\n (taking off shirt)\n Good, 'cause that's how you gonna get it.\n\n INT. JOKER'S HOUSE -", " Yo' old ass need to get\n in a little bit o' trouble sometimes.\n\n MR. JONES\n (rolling up his sleeve)\n Don't get it twisted, Elroy. I ain't\n lost none of my street skills.\n\n SUGA\n If ya'll don't come back not in ten\n minutes, I'mma callin' the po'lice.\n\n Craig, Uncle Elroy and Mr. Jones are about to go on a\n mission.\n\n UNCLE", "I'm gone.\n\n Craig turns and sprints into the store. Baby'D looks\n concerned. Day-Day grabs Roach and they run into the store.\n\n BABY'D\n I'mma get you, Day-Day! You gotta come\n out sometimes!\n\n D'Wana hands her a brick.\n\n D'WANA\n I told you.\n\n Baby'D screams and throws the brick through Day-Day's\n WINDSHIELD.\n\n INT", "OKER\n Sorry you gotta walk, but I'll call you\n tomorrow.\n\n The Girls take off down the street. The porch lights go out.\n\n INT. UNCLE ELROY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig, Mr. Jones, Uncle Elroy, Suga and Miss Ho Kym are\n peeking out the window.\n\n CRAIG\n You see that?\n\n MR. JONES\n I saw it.\n\n UNCLE ELROY\n Me,", "CRAIG\n Oh yeah, why you walking?\n\n KARLA\n My brothers won't give me a ride.\n\n Day-Day is about to have a heart attack. He's looking back\n and forth between Craig and Karla, and the Joker's house\n where somebody is looking out the window.\n\n DAY-DAY\n (to himself)\n Just get the number and come on. Just\n get the number and come on.\n\n Back at the \"Love Connection,\" Craig has Karla", ". JOKER'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n Craig steps out of Joker's front door carrying the chrome\n hydraulic pump.\n\n CRAIG\n I love Fridays.\n\n He walks past the cops and crosses the street.\n\n ROACH\n There he go.\n\n MR. JONES\n What the hell is he carrying?\n\n DAY-DAY\n Property taxes, and a new candy-apple\n paint job.\n\n They greet", " Debo is a hard fit. Ezal stuffs him in there.\n\n EZAL\n You too big.\n\n DEBO\n Keep pushing.\n\n Finally he's in. Ezal gets in and slams the door shut. Just\n then, Mr. Jones comes running out the joint with a sandwich\n in hand.\n\n MR. JONES\n Oh my God!\n\n He gets in and speeds off.\n\n EXT. CUCAMONGA SHOPPING CENTER - AF", "MORNING\n\n A run-down crack house sits alone in the middle of the block.\n It looks deserted with chipped paint, overgrown grass and\n security bars everywhere. Inside we can hear a FIGHT in\n progress.\n\n CRACK DEALER (O.S.)\n Ezal, I'm sick of you coming around here\n wit no money.\n\n Suddenly the door flies open and Ezal comes flying out on his\n ass.\n\n EZAL\n I be damned.\n\n He", " Get the duct tape.\n (to Li'l Joker)\n You know what to do.\n\n Li'l Joker turns to the girls.\n\n LI'L JOKER\n Put your clothes back on.\n\n The scared Girls start to dress.\n\n EXT. JOKER'S HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Karla backs up the rider and she's out. The Joker house\n looks quiet. Then the door opens and three Girls walk out.\n\n LI'L J" ] ]

[ "Why does Craig's father send him to stay with his uncle?", "Why does Day-Day ask Craig to stay away from Karla?", "Why does Craig go to the record store to talk to Day-Day?", "What happens to Roach and Day-Day when Pinky comes back to the store?", "Who runs over Roach's skateboard?", "What is in the hydraulic pump?", "Who knocks out Joker?", "What does Craig do with the money from the hydraulic pump?", "Why does Craig's cousin work at the record?", "How come Craig lives next door to a family of Chicago thugs?", "Why did Day-Day's neighbors have a mental breakdown?", "Why did Craig go to the record store?", "Who was Roach's boss?", "How did the BMW get damaged?", "How many brothers does Karla have?", "How many fights did Craig have in the story?", "Who is the neighborhood bully?", "Who vandilized Day-Day's car?", "Who are the drug dealing neighbors next door?", "Who does Pinky fire?", "Who runs over Roach's skateboard?", "How does Craig want to help Karla? ", "What are the names of Joker's younger brothers?", "Who did Tyrone give Joker's gun to?", "Who do the police arrest?" ]

[ [ "Because the neighborhood bully, Deebo, would be getting out of jail soon", "Deebo will come after Craig." ], [ "Because of the friction between them and her brothers", "Tensions with the Joker Brothers" ], [ "Because he receives a notice from the mailman saying the house is being sold", "To tell him the house is being auctioned." ], [ "They are both fired", "they get fired" ], [ "The Joker brothers", "Joker's brothers." ], [ "Money", "Drug money." ], [ "Deebo", "Day-Day and Roach." ], [ "He splits it with Day-Day and Elroy", "Takes it and splits it with Day-Day and Elroy" ], [ "Because the family is not rich anymore", "Even though they won the lottery they aren't rich anymore" ], [ "His father sent him away to protect him", "To hide from Deebo." ], [ "Their sons got out of jail", "The Joker Brothers getting out of jail and taking over the house" ], [ "To tell Day-Day about the auction notice", "To tell his cousin about the house being auctioned" ], [ "Pinky", "Pinky" ], [ "When D'Wana and Baby D through a brick through the windshield", "A brick was thrown through the rear window." ], [ "3", "3." ], [ "3", "4" ], [ "Deebo", "Deebo" ], [ "His ex-girlfriend D'wana", "dwana" ], [ "The Joker brothers.", "joker brothers" ], [ "Day-Day and Roach.", "Day-Day and Roach" ], [ "The Joker Brother's.", "Joker's brothers." ], [ "By helping put her brothers in jail.", "get her away from her brothers" ], [ "Lil' Joker and Baby Joker", "Lil' Joker and Baby Joker" ], [ "Deebo", "Deebo." ], [ "Deebo, Tyrone, and the Joker brother's.", "Deebo, Tyrone and the Joker's Brothers." ] ]

[ [ "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "rad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n 121 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 121\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 106.\n \n \n \n 122 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 122\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n", "17\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 118 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 118\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 119 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 119\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 120 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 120\n \n Con", "­ NIGHT 134\n \n Flash of Conrad giving Buck a hand over the overturned hull\n of the boat.\n \n CONRAD\n And I'm supposed to take care of\n it!\n \n \n 135 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 135\n \n DR BERGER\n And that wasn't fair, was it?\n \n CONRAD\n No! And then", "\n \n Calvin sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n Maybe it wasn't even Buck.\n Maybe it was just you.\n Maybe, finally, it was the best\n of you that you buried.\n (MORE)\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 123.\n 156 CONTINUED: 156\n CALVIN", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 112 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 112\n \n BUCK\n Just don't let go!\n \n CONRAD\n I won't, honest to God!\n \n BUCK\n Everything gonna be okay!\n \n 105.\n \n \n \n 113 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 113\n ", "there's no\n godamm point!\n \n DR BERGER\n Point? What point? It happened!\n \n CONRAD\n No, no... Oh, no. I don't mean\n that. It's that... It's just\n that... Buck, Bucky, I didn't mean\n it!\n \n 126 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 126\n \n Flash of Buck in storm.\n \n", "rad stares at the water in his hands\n \n 104 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 104\n \n CONRAD\n Let it out!\n \n BUCK\n Just keep it starboard!\n \n CONRAD\n I can't!\n \n Boat overturns.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Ahh!\n \n BUCK\n Ahh!\n", "is standing, telling his story.\n \n BUCK\n Oh anyway, Mary Ann Ramon started\n to just scream, just cry, right?\n It was crazy. We got so drunk\n that we couldn't talk to each\n other. It was the last day... the\n last day of school.\n \n A younger Conrad, sitting aside, is listening too, amused.\n \n BUCK (cont'd)\n We walked out of the building in\n the middle of", "down! Get it down!\n \n BUCK\n I can't hold it! Keep it starboard!\n \n 99 INT. KITCHEN ­ NIGHT 99\n \n Conrad stares at himself in the mirror\n \n 100 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 100\n \n CONRAD\n Get the sail down! Get it down!\n \n BUCK\n Keep it starboard!\n ", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She", " 107\n \n Conrad rushes downstairs with his coat.\n \n 108 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 108\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n BUCK\n Give me your hand!\n \n CONRAD\n Here!\n \n 109 EXT. HOUSE ­ NIGHT 109\n \n Conrad rushes out of the house.\n \n ", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "110 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 110\n \n The boys are holding each other's hands over the overturned\n boat's hull.\n \n BUCK\n We screwed up this time, Buddy!\n Dad's gonna haul ass over this!\n \n CONRAD\n It ain't so goddamned funny!\n \n 111 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 111\n ", "9.\n \n \n \n 30 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 30\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Buck is overboard swimming, trying to cling at the overturned\n small sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Give me your hand!\n \n 31 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT ", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", "you say ...\n \n 110.\n \n \n \n 136 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 136\n \n Flash of Conrad holding Buck's hand.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n \"Hang on!\"...\n \n \n 137 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 137\n \n CONRAD\n ...\"Hang on!\", and then you let\n", "'t...\n His mother doesn't show him a\n great deal of affection. I'm not\n trying to put her down in any way\n at all. She is a wonderful woman,\n huh...\n \n DR BERGER\n Did she give Buck much affection to\n ...Buck?\n \n CALVIN\n Oh, god, yes, she loved Buck!\n Bucky got so much... I think what\n she felt for him was special. You", "me! Stay with me!\n Stay with me! Bucky! Where are\n you?\n \n Buck disappears into water.\n \n 115 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 115\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 116 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 116\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 117 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 1", "tight the rope maintaining the sail up)\n to have him get the sail down;\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 103.\n 98 CONTINUED: 98\n \n but Buck is stubborn and asks Conrad (who is at the helm) to\n maintain starboard course.[The result of opposites will\n overturn the small boat]. Waves of water\n \n CONRAD\n Get the sail" ], [ " DR BERGER\n I mean, besides Dr. Crawford?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n 52 INT. RESTAURANT ­ DAY 52\n \n Conrad is sitting, reflecting. A young woman's hand blinds\n him for a second : Karen has arrived.\n \n CONRAD\n Whoa!\n \n KAREN\n Hi!\n \n CONR", " Conrad, kind of terrified, rehearses his meeting Dr. Berger:\n \n CONRAD\n Oh, hi. How are you? /.../ Oh. I'm\n fine /.../ Couldn't be better,\n really. Oh, terrific, yeah.\n \n \n 35 INT. DR. BERGER'S CORRIDOR - DAY 35\n \n Conrad sees « Dr Berger » on a bell. He rings but another\n door opens behind", "him. Dr Berger motions him to come in.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ha! Hi! Come in. It's OK, they all\n do that.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 20.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n INT. Dr. BERGER'S OFFICE - DAY\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n ", "t you see\n that?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother doesn't hate you,\n Conrad?\n \n CONRAD\n All right, all right. You're right.\n She doesn't. Please leave me alone,\n now.\n \n Silence. Then Calvin stands up and goes to the door.\n \n CALVIN\n What about this Dr. Berger? Do you\n think he's helping you?\n", " DR BERGER\n You think about it. Just think\n about it.\n \n Silence\n \n CONRAD\n Jesus!\n \n Conrad is out of breath.\n \n 77 EXT. PARK ­ DAY 77\n \n Calvin and Friend are jogging in sportswear. Calvin's friend\n explains a stock market deal he made.\n \n FRIEND\n Say. After going to a new high, it\n", " DR BERGER\n For what?\n \n CONRAD\n For what I did!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n What I did to him!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n It's something... It's something...\n Don't you see? It's gotta be\n somebody's fault or", " DR BERGER\n What time is it?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n Where are you?\n \n CONRAD\n I... I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n All right. Listen to me. Get to the\n office somehow, and I'll meet you\n there.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay.\n \n", " DR BERGER\n Because I'm your friend.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 115.\n 149 CONTINUED: 149\n \n \n Conrad is out of breath.\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know what I would've\n done...if you hadn't been here.\n You're really my friend?\n \n DR", " DR BERGER\n Oh, yes! I'm with a patient now.\n Can you call back at two\n fifteen?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't think I'll be free.\n \n DR BERGER\n Then give me your number. I'll call\n you tonite. Hello? Hello?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh, that's OK, I'll try to call you\n back. Thanks.\n ", " Yeah.\n \n DR BERGER\n Friends?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n DR BERGER\n OK?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n DR BERGER\n Everything...\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 22.\n 35 CONTIN", "BERGER\n I am. Count on it.\n \n Conrad falls into Dr Berger's arms, crying.\n \n 150 EXT. JEANNINE'S HOME ­ EARLY MORNING 150\n \n Jeannine opens her curtains, sees Conrad, outside her home,\n walking to and fro. She puts on a jacket and comes out to\n him.\n \n CONRAD\n Hi. I was gonna call but I didn", "07.\n 124 CONTINUED: 124\n \n \n Dr Berger fiddles for his keys in the dark to open his\n office's door.\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait, just hold on...\n \n CONRAD\n I need... I need...\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait till we get inside...\n \n Dr Berger finally opens the door. They enter.\n", "worried about you, too?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know, listen. You... You're\n a friend of Dr Crawford, so you're\n probably all right, but I'll be\n straight with you, I don't like\n this already.\n \n DR BERGER\n Well, as long as you're straight.\n \n CONRAD\n What do you know about me? Have\n you talked to Crawford?", "DR BERGER\n Ha, ha.\n \n CONRAD\n They're a bunch of boring ass\n jocks.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ha, ha.\n \n CONRAD\n And him... I can't stand him. He's\n a tight ass son of a bitch!\n \n DR BERGER\n Ah, ah?... Have you ever thought\n about quitting?\n \n CONRAD", "Calvin laughs nervously, all smiles.\n \n DR BERGER\n (OS)\n That's good.\n \n CALVIN\n In the car, I was thinking: \"be\n clear.\". I suppose that's what\n psychiatry's about. Being precise\n and clear. And honest, of course.\n I'll level with you. I'm not a\n great believer in psychiatry.\n \n DR BERGER", " Fuck you.\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah?\n \n CONRAD\n Fuck you!\n \n DR BERGER\n That's it!\n \n CONRAD\n Jesus, you're really weird! What\n about you? What do you feel, huh?\n Do you jack off or jerk off?\n Whatever you call it?\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you think?\n \n", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n", "\n \n DR BERGER\n I don't hold much stock in dreams.\n \n CONRAD\n What kind of a psychiatrist are\n you? They all believe in dreams.\n \n DR BERGER\n Really? What's happening?\n What's going on?\n \n CONRAD\n I just feel... I feel so...\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n ", "a doctor, I'm\n supposed to feel better! Right?\n \n DR BERGER\n Not necessarily.\n \n Conrad reflects.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n How is it with your friends? Is it\n getting any easier?\n \n CONRAD\n No. It's still hard.\n \n DR BERGER\n Is anyplace easy?\n \n CONRAD\n The hospital was.", " \n DR BERGER\n Who?\n \n CONRAD\n You know, in \"The Waltons\". John\n Boy?\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah. What about him?\n \n CONRAD\n My father came into my room and he\n didn't know what to say.\n This is right after Buck died.\n And he came over and sat on the\n bed next to me, put his arm\n around my" ], [ "trouble finding the place?\n \n CONRAD\n Not yet.\n \n Dr Berger gives him a second look. Telephone Rings. Dr\n Berger sits at his desk, looks up file.\n \n DR BERGER\n Hmm.... Jarrett. How long since\n you've been out of the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n A month and a half.\n \n DR BERGER\n Feeling depressed?\n \n CON", "21.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n CONRAD\n I don't know.\n \n Dr Berger sits at table, looks up another file.\n \n DR BERGER\n How long were you in the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n Four months.\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n I tried to off myself. Isn", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n ", "'t it\n down there?\n \n DR BERGER\n It doesn't say what your method\n was.\n \n CONRAD\n Double-edged Super Blue.\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh.\n \n Dr Berger closes file\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n So how does it feel being home?\n Everybody's glad to see you?\n \n CONRAD\n ", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n ", "'s out. Come on,\n something's on your mind.\n \n CONRAD\n What time is it?\n \n DR BERGER\n No, no, never mind the time.\n There's time. Look. Remember the\n contract? Control? Maybe there's\n some connection between control and\n uh... ­ what do we call it? - lack\n of feeling? Mmm?\n \n CONRAD\n I said I feel", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "DR BERGER'S OFFICE 145\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n I hung on. I stayed with the boat.\n \n DR BERGER\n Exactly.\n \n Conrad cries.\n \n 114.\n \n \n \n 146 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 146\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to", " DR BERGER\n What time is it?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n Where are you?\n \n CONRAD\n I... I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n All right. Listen to me. Get to the\n office somehow, and I'll meet you\n there.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay.\n \n", " \n CONRAD\n Where? Why?\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 124.\n 160 CONTINUED: 160\n \n \n CALVIN\n Back to Houston.\n Then I... I don't know.\n \n CONRAD\n Why? What... I know why. It's me.\n Isn't it?", "\n \n CONRAD\n I've heard this all before.\n \n DR BERGER\n Doesn't make it any less true.\n \n CONRAD\n I'm so tired.\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah, well... that's a hell of a\n secret you've been keeping on\n yourself.\n \n CONRAD\n So what do I do now?\n \n \n \n \n", " CALVIN\n Quit? When? Where have you been\n every night?\n \n CONRAD\n Nowhere. Around. The library\n mostly.\n \n CALVIN\n Why didn't you tell us, Connie?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know, I didn't think it\n mattered.\n \n CALVIN\n What do you mean? Why wouldn't it\n matter", "\n From inside, Conrad finally sees his father in the garden,\n reflecting. Patches of snow. Conrad puts on his coat over\n his pyjamas, and joins him.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad?\n \n CALVIN\n The yard looks smaller without\n leaves.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad? What happened?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother's going away for a\n while.\n", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", "\n \n [Close in on Conrad]\n \n 3 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 3\n \n Conrad suddenly wakes up from nightmare\n \n 4 INT. THEATER PLAY - ON STAGE - NIGHT 4\n \n A man of fifty is holding his wife's hand over the breakfast\n table.\n \n MAN\n Do you know we've made love one\n hundred and thirteen times?\n \n We hear laughter", " CONRAD\n Fuck! Fuck! Ha...\n \n 33 EXT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE BUILDING. STREET. ­ DAY 33\n \n Conrad, sitting on a bench, looks at Dr Berger's office\n windows on the other side of street, hesitating to go. He\n finally crosses the street and enters building.\n \n 34 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE BUILDING. LIFT ­ DAY 34\n \n", " \n CONRAD\n Don't blame it on Burger, it's not\n his fault!\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 78.\n 76 CONTINUED: 76\n \n \n Calvin opens the door.\n \n CALVIN\n I'll be downstairs if you need me.\n \n Exit Calvin. Conrad remains lying on his back with his arm", "07.\n 124 CONTINUED: 124\n \n \n Dr Berger fiddles for his keys in the dark to open his\n office's door.\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait, just hold on...\n \n CONRAD\n I need... I need...\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait till we get inside...\n \n Dr Berger finally opens the door. They enter.\n", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n" ], [ "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", "here.\n \n CALVIN\n I didn't see you there. What do you\n think?\n \n BETH\n (cold)\n Fine.\n \n CALVIN\n Rawlins used to have such great\n Scotch pines. And they all look\n like skeletons this year.\n \n Conrad comes in with a box of chritsmas tree decorations\n \n CONRAD\n Hi.", "comes out.\n \n BETH\n It's cold out here. You should put\n that on, or do you want a sweater?\n \n CONRAD\n Do I need one?\n \n Beth is taken off guard by Conrad's reaction, doesn't know\n what to do.\n \n BETH\n What are you doing?\n \n CONRAD\n Nothing. Thinking.\n \n \n \n (CONTIN", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 50.\n 53 CONTINUED: 53\n \n \n CONRAD\n (he barks)\n Arf! Arf! Arf!\n \n Beth stops in her tracks, startled, but doesn't show it.\n \n BETH\n Put that on if you're gonna stay\n out here, okay?\n \n Conrad stays alone a", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 86.\n 77 CONTINUED: 77\n \n \n CALVIN\n Mmm. She's very... No. There's no\n problem with her for me. We've\n been... We've been married nearly\n twenty one years. Everybody loves\n Beth. But, huh... for Conrad, -\n it's been difficult. He", " in her towels, in her rug.\n Everything had to be pitched.\n Even the tiles in the bathroom\n had to be regrouted. Christ, she\n fired the godamn maid because she\n couldn't dust the living room\n right. If you think I'm gonna\n forgive... - that she's gonna\n forgive me...\n \n Conrad stops. Dr. Berger looks at Conrad to signal him he\n just said something: Conrad realizes he just made a Freud", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", " BETH\n How's Brad? Give him my love.\n \n CAROLL\n Fabulous! Is everything okay?\n \n Beth gestures to the crowd in the mall.\n \n BETH\n Isn't this madness? It gets worse\n every year!\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 89.\n 79 CONTINUED: 79\n \n", " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", "BETH\n (casually)\n No, I tell you what you can do\n though. You can go upstairs to that\n room of yours and clean out the\n closet.\n \n CONRAD\n Mom...\n \n BETH\n Okay? Because it really is a mess.\n \n They stand there, facing each other, uptight. The telephone\n rings. Beth goes over to it, picks it up, seems suddenly\n delighted.\n \n BETH", "Upstairs, Conrad's bedroom door slams.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n Somebody better go up there.\n \n BETH\n Ah! Oh, god, that's the pattern,\n isn't it? He walks all over us and\n then you go up and apologize to\n him.\n \n CALVIN\n I am not going to apologize...\n \n BETH\n Yes of course you are!", "while and stares. Then goes inside.\n \n 54 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. DINING ROOM ­ DAY 54\n \n Conrad enters hesitantly, back from garden. Beth is busy\n dressing up the table.\n \n CONRAD\n Can I help?\n \n BETH\n Help what? Oh, you mean with this?\n No.\n \n CONRAD\n I will.\n \n ", " hurt me. Isn't it?\n \n CONRAD\n Don't you have that backwards?\n \n BETH\n Oh? And how do I hurt you? By\n embarrassing you in front of a\n friend? Poor Beth! She has no idea\n what her son is up to! He lies and\n she believes every word of it.\n \n CONRAD\n I didn't lie!\n \n BETH\n You did!", "\n \n KAREN\n Hey!\n \n A customer is startled.\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Would you cheer up?\n \n Conrad sits there with a strange feeling of embarrassment,\n reflecting.\n \n \n 53 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. GARDEN ­ DAY 53\n \n From inside, Beth stares outside in the garden where Conrad\n is lying on a chaise lounge. She", " Don't talk to me that way. Don't\n you talk to me the way he talks to\n you!\n \n CALVIN\n Beth. Let's not fight. Okay? No\n fighting. Okay? Please. Let's go\n upstairs.\n \n Calvin goes, but Beth doesn't, and turns away.\n \n \n 76 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ EVENING 76\n \n Calvin enters Con", "? Explain it to me.\n \n CONRAD\n Ha! I can't! Everything is German\n pudding with you , dad. You don't\n see things!\n \n CALVIN\n What things?\n \n Conrad sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n What things? Please, I want you to\n tell me.\n \n CONRAD\n That she hates me! Can'", "\n You've been apologizing to him ever\n since he came home from the\n hospital. And you just don't see\n that!\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Tell her to stop it! You never tell\n her a godamn thing!\n \n BETH\n (OS)\n Buck never would have been in the\n hospital!\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n ", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", " \n CONRAD\n I said I have feelings.\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh! Now you have, now you don't!\n Get it together, Jarrett.\n \n CONRAD\n Why you hassle me? Why are you\n trying to make me mad?\n \n DR BERGER\n Are you mad?\n \n CONRAD\n No!\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh,", " 61\n \n Conrad is taken away on a stretcher into an ambulance.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN\n Watch your back. Cuts are vertical.\n He really meant business.\n \n WS on Beth, hand on mouth, astonished. Beth and Conrad have\n overheard.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN (cont'd)\n Let's go.\n \n 62 INT. COMMUTER TRAIN ­ NIGHT " ], [ " \n JEANNINE\n What are you doing?\n \n The manager pushes them towards the exit.\n \n STUDENT\n Hey, what's your problem? Lighten\n up!\n \n MANAGER\n Hey. I don't like your attitude.\n \n Going out, a student pulls the manager's ear. Jeannine\n laughs, a bit stupidly. Conrad notices it. She sees that.\n \n \n 85", "­ EVENING 70\n \n Jeannine in school corridor still singing.\n \n JEANNINE\n Mmm mm mmm, Mmm mm mmm, Mmm mmm\n Mmm mm mmm.\n \n Jeannine stops to drink some water at the tap of the\n fountain. Conrad see her when he is already too near, and\n has almost his coat on. Seeing an opportunity to talk to\n her, he steps back, takes off his coat while she is not\n", "was happening. It was dumb.\n It was dumb. I've been doing lots\n of dumb things lately. I just\n didn't know wether or not you were\n being straight with me.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 116.\n 150 CONTINUED: 150\n \n \n Jeannine is moved, she extends her hand to him then put it to\n her heart.\n", " Okay. Altos, that last \"E\" natural\n could be just a little higher.\n Officers, don't forget your\n meeting tonight. That's it.\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 68.\n 69 CONTINUED: 69\n \n \n Choir breaks. Jeannine looks at Conrad.\n \n 70 INT. SCHOOL CORRIDOR ", "71 CONTINUED: 71\n \n \n JEANNINE\n Really?\n \n Jeannine looks at him, then:\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n Oh, that's my bus, I got to go!\n \n She runs and gets into the bus. Conrad follows and see her\n gets into the bus.\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n I'll see you later", "JEANNINE\n Janet Fox only mouths the words and\n never sings.\n \n CONRAD\n Ha, ha? Ha, a detective?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah...\n \n 71 EXT. PARK ­ EVENING 71\n \n JEANNINE\n Do you like Vivaldi?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh...\n \n JE", "\n Yes?\n \n Jeannine nods.\n \n JEANNINE\n Yes.\n \n Conrad is moved.\n \n CONRAD\n Uh... Are you going to school?\n \n JEANNINE\n No, not on Sunday.\n \n Conrad realizes. Laughs.\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n Have you eaten?\n \n CON", " CONRAD\n I do?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah. I mean, That's good. My\n name's Jeannine Pratt.\n \n CONRAD\n Nice. Hi!\n \n JEANNINE'S FRIEND\n You're Conrad Jarrett, remember?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 29.\n 38 CONT", " JEANNINE\n Yeah. Well...\n \n Conrad wants to open the door on her side.\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n I got it. That's OK. Thing is,\n I'm a funny bowler.\n \n CONRAD\n Well, listen. We don't have to go\n bowling if you'd rather not, I'm\n not a bowling nut or anything. How\n funny are", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 92.\n 82 CONTINUED: 82\n \n \n JEANNINE\n Conrad?\n \n CONRAD\n Hmm?\n \n JEANNINE\n I don't bowl. I mean, I'm a\n horrible bowler.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh, that's all right.\n \n", "don't always sing.\n Sometimes I just listen.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh?\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 69.\n 70 CONTINUED: 70\n \n \n JEANNINE\n For instance, Marcia Blair can't\n sing a note.\n \n CONRAD\n Uh, uh...\n \n ", " \n CONRAD\n I thought it'd get to you. I've\n been working on it all day.\n \n Jeannine laughs, then:\n \n JEANNINE\n Do you think people are punished\n for the things they do?\n \n CONRAD\n You mean by God?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah.\n \n CONRAD\n Mmm, I don't believe", "ine giggles with laughing eyes.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Anyway...\n \n JEANNINE\n Hmm? What?\n \n CONRAD\n Just \"anyway\", it's a conversation\n starter.\n \n JEANNINE\n Catchy!\n \n CONRAD\n You like it?\n \n JEANNINE\n Mmm, mmm.\n", " CONRAD\n Ha, no. I...\n \n JEANNINE\n No. I'm serious. You really sing\n well. I'm getting to know your\n voice.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah!\n \n CONRAD\n How can you hear me sing if you're\n singing?\n \n JEANNINE\n Well... I", " CONRAD\n So you're afraid he'll punish you\n for something you did?\n \n JEANNINE\n I've done a lot of things I'm\n ashamed of.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah? So have I.\n \n She looks up at him, then at his wrists.\n \n JEANNINE\n Did it hurt?\n \n CONRAD\n No, I dunno,", "'t\n want to wake anyone.\n \n JEANNINE\n Might have been easier...\n \n CONRAD\n Listen, I want to say something\n about the other night. I mean I\n liked being with you but I didn't\n like myself.\n \n JEANNINE\n Conrad. I was stupid.\n That was dumb of me to laugh and\n it was my fault. I just didn't\n know what to", "night.\n \n Jeannine leaves the car.\n \n 86 INT. JET ­DAY 86\n \n Beth is all smiles, she succeeded with Calvin. They both are\n playing with their earphone\n \n CALVIN\n Seven.\n \n BETH\n Yes... It's not even plugged in.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 97.\n 86 CONTIN", "INUED: 38\n \n \n CONRAD\n Right. Hum. Yeah. Um. Bye.\n \n JEANNINE\n Bye-bye.\n \n LAZENBY\n \"You've got a lot of energy.\"\n \n 39 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, ENTRANCE - NIGHT 39\n \n Halloween : Beth opens door with a plate of candied apples\n ready. Outside,", " Anyway...\n \n Conrad does not find this funny. Finally car stops. Conrad\n sighs.\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n Do you want to talk?\n \n CONRAD\n About what?\n \n JEANNINE\n Are you okay?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Uh... I'll\n give you a call.\n \n JEAN", "BERGER\n I am. Count on it.\n \n Conrad falls into Dr Berger's arms, crying.\n \n 150 EXT. JEANNINE'S HOME ­ EARLY MORNING 150\n \n Jeannine opens her curtains, sees Conrad, outside her home,\n walking to and fro. She puts on a jacket and comes out to\n him.\n \n CONRAD\n Hi. I was gonna call but I didn" ], [ " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", " BETH\n Did she die in Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n I guess so. Why?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 25.\n 36 CONTINUED: 36\n \n \n BETH\n You said she was always traveling.\n I just... wondered if she died in\n Idaho.\n \n CALVIN\n ", ")\n What about the Warrens, did you\n call them?\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, IN THE KITCHEN)\n Yeah, they said they'll make it\n some evening soon.\n \n Look at these people. Everybody I grew up with... is in the\n paper these days.\n \n 12 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 12\n \n Calvin is reading his newspaper. Beth is preparing the\n breakfast\n", ".\n \n 156 INT. DINING ROOM ­ NIGHT 156\n \n Beth enters the dining room in the dark.\n \n BETH\n Calvin?\n \n Calvin is sitting at table in the dark, sobbing, his head in\n his hands.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Why are you crying?\n \n Calvin doesn't answer.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n", " \n Beth tidies up some napkins, neatly tied up in rolls in a\n drawer which she closes (CU). She is in the kitchen, Calvin\n speaks to her from the dining room table. Conrad is sitting\n there too, looking at his father.\n \n CALVIN (OS)\n I saw Mort Swain. His sister died.\n \n BETH\n The one from Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n The one with the restaurant.\n \n ", "INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ MORNING 15\n \n Conrad's sitting on his bed.\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, downstairs)\n (to Beth)\n Will you drop those suits at the\n cleaners for me?\n \n BETH\n They won't be back by Saturday.\n \n 16 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 16\n \n Beth still preparing", " \n CALVIN\n Yeah. I know we talked about it,\n but the more I talk about it, the\n more the timing doesn't seem right.\n \n BETH\n (interrupting)\n Calvin, we've always gone away at\n Christmas time.\n \n CALVIN\n I know.\n \n BETH\n I think... I think it would be good\n for him too. Isn't it", "to be a nice Christmas.\n \n CALVIN\n I do too. I want all of them to be\n nice Christmases\n \n BETH\n We need time together, Calvin. You\n and I. We have to get away. New\n Years'. We can spend some time in\n Houston with my brother and Audrey.\n You know, play a little golf.\n Relax.\n \n Calvin seems doubtfull. Beth goes softly.\n \n ", ": 41\n \n \n CALVIN\n Mmm?\n \n BETH\n That Christmas in London would be\n like something out of Dickens.\n We've never done that before,\n right? Christmas in London?\n \n CALVIN\n Maybe we shouldn't plan to go away\n right now.\n \n BETH\n Yes, we talked about that. We\n decided on that.\n", " \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 34.\n 48 CONTINUED: 48\n \n \n BETH\n Okay. Yeah. Come on. Let's go.\n What's our excuse?\n \n CALVIN\n Beth wanted to go to the movies?\n \n BETH\n Good. Very good.\n \n She laughs strangely.\n ", " Don't talk to me that way. Don't\n you talk to me the way he talks to\n you!\n \n CALVIN\n Beth. Let's not fight. Okay? No\n fighting. Okay? Please. Let's go\n upstairs.\n \n Calvin goes, but Beth doesn't, and turns away.\n \n \n 76 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ EVENING 76\n \n Calvin enters Con", "in green going upstairs, drunk, trips over Calvin\n \n CALVIN\n Oh!\n \n Calvin laughs. The woman goes upstairs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n No, no. No. No. He's...\n \n Beth, not far, listens.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n There's a doctor in Highland\n Park... that he sees a couple of\n times a week. That kinda", "\n \n Beth joins in, to cut him off.\n \n BETH\n How are you. Darling? Is he falling\n asleep on you, yet?\n \n ANNIE\n Nah. He's great.\n \n CALVIN\n (Mimicking \"Mr.\n Wonderful\")\n Mr. Great. That's me!\n \n 51 INT. CAR ­ NIGHT 51\n \n Beth looks", "and close.\n \n Beth goes upstairs and directly into her bedroom. Calvin\n notices this, then notices the light under his son's bedroom\n door. He knocks.\n \n \n 8 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 8\n \n Conrad is lying on his stomach, on his bed, thinking. He\n composes himself, grabs his book as if he had been reading.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah?\n \n \n ", "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", "Upstairs, Conrad's bedroom door slams.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n Somebody better go up there.\n \n BETH\n Ah! Oh, god, that's the pattern,\n isn't it? He walks all over us and\n then you go up and apologize to\n him.\n \n CALVIN\n I am not going to apologize...\n \n BETH\n Yes of course you are!", " \n BETH\n Conrad, do you want me to sign you\n up for round robin at the club?\n \n CONRAD\n I haven't played in a year.\n \n BETH\n Well, don't you think it's time to\n start?\n \n Silence\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Also, Calvin, we have to go to the\n Murrays on saturday, I couldn'", "\n I love you, too.\n \n Beth stares at him.\n \n BETH\n Let's just give things time. Okay?\n \n Calvin doesn't say anything.\n \n \n \n 82 EXT. JEANNINE'S HOME ­ EVENING NIGHT 82\n \n Conrad came to pick her up, they both come out. Conrad\n fetches his car keys while she closes her door.\n \n \n \n ", " Did you?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n CALVIN\n Good! You didn't say anything.\n Good!\n \n CONRAD\n I went.\n \n CALVIN\n When?\n \n CONRAD\n Today.\n \n Beth comes closer\n \n BETH\n I didn't know you made an\n appointment.\n \n CAL" ], [ "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 86.\n 77 CONTINUED: 77\n \n \n CALVIN\n Mmm. She's very... No. There's no\n problem with her for me. We've\n been... We've been married nearly\n twenty one years. Everybody loves\n Beth. But, huh... for Conrad, -\n it's been difficult. He", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 50.\n 53 CONTINUED: 53\n \n \n CONRAD\n (he barks)\n Arf! Arf! Arf!\n \n Beth stops in her tracks, startled, but doesn't show it.\n \n BETH\n Put that on if you're gonna stay\n out here, okay?\n \n Conrad stays alone a", " 61\n \n Conrad is taken away on a stretcher into an ambulance.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN\n Watch your back. Cuts are vertical.\n He really meant business.\n \n WS on Beth, hand on mouth, astonished. Beth and Conrad have\n overheard.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN (cont'd)\n Let's go.\n \n 62 INT. COMMUTER TRAIN ­ NIGHT ", " hurt me. Isn't it?\n \n CONRAD\n Don't you have that backwards?\n \n BETH\n Oh? And how do I hurt you? By\n embarrassing you in front of a\n friend? Poor Beth! She has no idea\n what her son is up to! He lies and\n she believes every word of it.\n \n CONRAD\n I didn't lie!\n \n BETH\n You did!", "comes out.\n \n BETH\n It's cold out here. You should put\n that on, or do you want a sweater?\n \n CONRAD\n Do I need one?\n \n Beth is taken off guard by Conrad's reaction, doesn't know\n what to do.\n \n BETH\n What are you doing?\n \n CONRAD\n Nothing. Thinking.\n \n \n \n (CONTIN", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", ", prizes and objects. It's like a\n museum.\n \n 45 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 45\n \n Conrad arrives on foot.\n \n 46 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 46\n \n Beth in Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent, sitting on bed.\n \n Conrad appears at door, Beth is startled.\n \n BETH\n ", "\n BETH\n I don't think he knows what he\n wants to do.\n \n 42 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 42\n \n Beth arrives in alley with car, takes out shopping, enters\n house.\n \n 43 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BEDROOM'S LANDING ­DAY 43\n \n Beth goes upstairs with her shopping, knocks on Conrad's\n door. No", "shuts off bedside lamp. Then kisses Beth. They\n embrace.\n \n 10 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 10\n \n Beth prepares the breakfast table geometrically (CU).\n \n 11 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ MORNING 11\n \n Conrad's lies on his bed, fully dressed, full awake,\n thinking.\n \n BETH\n (OS, IN THE KITCHEN", " \n CONRAD\n (shouts)\n GIVE-HER-THE-GODDAMN-CAMERA!\n \n Calvin is startled. Conrad sits in an armchair. Calvin hands\n the camera to Beth. They exchange places.\n \n BETH\n Smile.\n \n Beth takes a photo of Calvin.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Who's hungry? I'll make the\n sandwiches.\n", "while and stares. Then goes inside.\n \n 54 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. DINING ROOM ­ DAY 54\n \n Conrad enters hesitantly, back from garden. Beth is busy\n dressing up the table.\n \n CONRAD\n Can I help?\n \n BETH\n Help what? Oh, you mean with this?\n No.\n \n CONRAD\n I will.\n \n ", "the class!\n \n Conrad laughs. Beth laughs.\n \n BETH\n Oh, Bucky!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n 56 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, DINING ROOM - DAY 56\n \n Beth laughs. Conrad stares at Beth laughing on the phone. The\n gossip gets too funny.\n \n BETH\n No. Stop!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n INT. Dr", "BETH\n (casually)\n No, I tell you what you can do\n though. You can go upstairs to that\n room of yours and clean out the\n closet.\n \n CONRAD\n Mom...\n \n BETH\n Okay? Because it really is a mess.\n \n They stand there, facing each other, uptight. The telephone\n rings. Beth goes over to it, picks it up, seems suddenly\n delighted.\n \n BETH", " How'd it go?\n \n CONRAD\n Good. I swam well, today.\n \n BETH\n Good.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n Personaly I think I could swim\n the 50 if my timing got...\n \n He leans back against a wardrobe. Beth sees it.\n \n BETH\n Off.\n \n CONRAD\n ...my timing got better.\n ", " \n BETH\n Oh... No, no. No. Thanks.\n \n 81 INT. MALL DINER ­ DAY 81\n \n Beth and Conrad are having lunch at a table in the diner.\n Beth is summing up the birthday presents she bought.\n \n BETH\n We've got Bennett's, and Grant's\n and Foley's. Ha, Conrad should get\n something for my mother and father.\n He", " \n Beth tidies up some napkins, neatly tied up in rolls in a\n drawer which she closes (CU). She is in the kitchen, Calvin\n speaks to her from the dining room table. Conrad is sitting\n there too, looking at his father.\n \n CALVIN (OS)\n I saw Mort Swain. His sister died.\n \n BETH\n The one from Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n The one with the restaurant.\n \n ", "INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ MORNING 15\n \n Conrad's sitting on his bed.\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, downstairs)\n (to Beth)\n Will you drop those suits at the\n cleaners for me?\n \n BETH\n They won't be back by Saturday.\n \n 16 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 16\n \n Beth still preparing" ], [ " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", "you, but\n it sticks with me and I just\n wanted to ...tell you about it.\n \n She comes to him and takes him into her arms.\n \n BETH\n It's all right.\n \n 79 INT. MALL ­ DAY 79\n \n Two stairways, one going down, one up, cross each other in\n the middle space of the mall. On the one going down is Beth,\n Caroll, Beth's friend, is on the other", "answer. She enters in an authoritarian way, then\n comes out and closes the door. She then goes to the next door\n on the landing (Buck's bedroom), stops in front of it. She\n hesitates, then enters.\n \n 44 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 44\n \n Beth slowly enters Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent.\n Everything has stayed like it was. Beth looks around, sits on\n bed. Stares at photos", " BETH\n Did she die in Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n I guess so. Why?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 25.\n 36 CONTINUED: 36\n \n \n BETH\n You said she was always traveling.\n I just... wondered if she died in\n Idaho.\n \n CALVIN\n ", "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", "rett, bye.\n \n BETH\n Good-bye.\n \n Children's laughs. Beth closes the door.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n The Cabbots. Little Julie's first\n time. God, she's so cute!\n \n 40 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­ NIGHT 40\n \n The children run away, laughing.\n \n CHILDREN\n Ha", ".\n \n 156 INT. DINING ROOM ­ NIGHT 156\n \n Beth enters the dining room in the dark.\n \n BETH\n Calvin?\n \n Calvin is sitting at table in the dark, sobbing, his head in\n his hands.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Why are you crying?\n \n Calvin doesn't answer.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n", "BETH\n (casually)\n No, I tell you what you can do\n though. You can go upstairs to that\n room of yours and clean out the\n closet.\n \n CONRAD\n Mom...\n \n BETH\n Okay? Because it really is a mess.\n \n They stand there, facing each other, uptight. The telephone\n rings. Beth goes over to it, picks it up, seems suddenly\n delighted.\n \n BETH", "154 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 154\n \n Beth is not sleeping, she looks up, sees her husband wrinkled\n pillow, but he is not in bed. She looks at the time, gets up,\n puts on a robe.\n \n 155 INT. STAIRS ­ NIGHT 155\n \n Beth goes downstairs, tying up her robe. She stops, hearing\n someone sobbing in the dark, in the dining room", " kneeling, picking up a broken plate on the ground.\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n Beth?!\n \n BETH\n I think it can be saved.\n \n Beth gets up, goes to the table and starts preparing the\n sandwiches.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n That was dumb. It was just so dumb.\n I don't think he's happy in school.\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n Have you talked to", " 61\n \n Conrad is taken away on a stretcher into an ambulance.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN\n Watch your back. Cuts are vertical.\n He really meant business.\n \n WS on Beth, hand on mouth, astonished. Beth and Conrad have\n overheard.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN (cont'd)\n Let's go.\n \n 62 INT. COMMUTER TRAIN ­ NIGHT ", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", "make sure that your kids are good\n and safe, that no one's fallen off\n a horse, or been hit by a car, or\n drowned in that swimming pool\n you're so proud of! And then you\n come to me and tell me how to be\n happy!\n \n She leaves. Calvin follows. Ward and his wife just stand\n there.\n \n 152 INT. JET ­ DAY 152\n \n Beth stares away", " \n BETH\n Hello Gladyce. Will you put that\n with the rest of them?\n \n Several guests. Beth sees Mrs Murray coming down the stairs\n eyes wide open, showing off.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Oh, look, we're in time for the\n grand entrance!\n \n MRS MURRAY\n Hello! Look who's here! Three\n blocks away and the last to arrive.\n \n They kiss.\n ", "\n them together.\n \n BETH\n You know, I think this can be\n saved. It's a nice clean break.\n \n 69 INT. SCHOOL ­ EVENING 69\n \n The choir is rehearsing.\n \n CHOIR\n Alleluia, Amen. Amen. Alleluia,\n Amen. Aaaaaamen.\n (final)\n \n CONDUCTOR\n ", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 50.\n 53 CONTINUED: 53\n \n \n CONRAD\n (he barks)\n Arf! Arf! Arf!\n \n Beth stops in her tracks, startled, but doesn't show it.\n \n BETH\n Put that on if you're gonna stay\n out here, okay?\n \n Conrad stays alone a", ", prizes and objects. It's like a\n museum.\n \n 45 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 45\n \n Conrad arrives on foot.\n \n 46 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 46\n \n Beth in Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent, sitting on bed.\n \n Conrad appears at door, Beth is startled.\n \n BETH\n ", " \n 51.\n 54 CONTINUED: 54\n \n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Did she really?\n \n Beth laughs again.\n \n [echo effect to get into Flashback]\n \n 55 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, GARDEN ­ DAY 55\n \n Beth is laughing at Buck story. She is lying leisurely on a\n mattress on the lawn. Buck", "comes out.\n \n BETH\n It's cold out here. You should put\n that on, or do you want a sweater?\n \n CONRAD\n Do I need one?\n \n Beth is taken off guard by Conrad's reaction, doesn't know\n what to do.\n \n BETH\n What are you doing?\n \n CONRAD\n Nothing. Thinking.\n \n \n \n (CONTIN" ], [ "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n ", "\n (CONTINUED)\n \n 109.\n 129 CONTINUED: 129\n \n \n DR BERGER\n I know that, it wasn't your fault.\n \n CONRAD\n But it was: you said. \"Get the sail\n down!\" ...\n \n 130 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 130\n \n Flash on", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "trouble finding the place?\n \n CONRAD\n Not yet.\n \n Dr Berger gives him a second look. Telephone Rings. Dr\n Berger sits at his desk, looks up file.\n \n DR BERGER\n Hmm.... Jarrett. How long since\n you've been out of the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n A month and a half.\n \n DR BERGER\n Feeling depressed?\n \n CON", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", "both hands of Conrad holding tight the rudder\n \n CONRAD\n ...and I couldn't!\n \n \n 131 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 131\n \n CONRAD\n I couldn't! It jammed! And then the\n halyard, the halyard jammed! I\n couldn't because the godamn halyard\n jammed! And then you're sittin'\n here,", "S OFFICE 143\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n Haaa...\n \n DR BERGER\n You know.\n \n 144 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 144\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 145 INT.", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", " \n CONRAD\n Don't blame it on Burger, it's not\n his fault!\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 78.\n 76 CONTINUED: 76\n \n \n Calvin opens the door.\n \n CALVIN\n I'll be downstairs if you need me.\n \n Exit Calvin. Conrad remains lying on his back with his arm", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n ", "\n \n CONRAD\n I've heard this all before.\n \n DR BERGER\n Doesn't make it any less true.\n \n CONRAD\n I'm so tired.\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah, well... that's a hell of a\n secret you've been keeping on\n yourself.\n \n CONRAD\n So what do I do now?\n \n \n \n \n", "17\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 118 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 118\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 119 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 119\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 120 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 120\n \n Con", "21.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n CONRAD\n I don't know.\n \n Dr Berger sits at table, looks up another file.\n \n DR BERGER\n How long were you in the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n Four months.\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n I tried to off myself. Isn", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "9.\n \n \n \n 30 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 30\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Buck is overboard swimming, trying to cling at the overturned\n small sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Give me your hand!\n \n 31 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT ", "and touches the horn by accident.\n \n 92 INT. GRANDPARENTS' HOME, STAIRS & LANDING ­ NIGHT 92\n \n Conrad gets home, climbs upstairs directly to his room, and\n closes the door. His grandmother hears him, opens her bedroom\n door, closes it.\n \n \n 93 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 93\n \n Conrad reflects for a short time, then goes down", " DR BERGER\n For what?\n \n CONRAD\n For what I did!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n What I did to him!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n It's something... It's something...\n Don't you see? It's gotta be\n somebody's fault or", "pisses me off.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay. Okay.\n \n DR BERGER\n So everything was fine till you had\n the fight with your mother, then\n everything was lousy.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah, but I don't blame her. I\n mean, she's got... She's got her\n reasons. It's impossible after all\n the shit I've pulled!\n \n DR BER" ], [ "21.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n CONRAD\n I don't know.\n \n Dr Berger sits at table, looks up another file.\n \n DR BERGER\n How long were you in the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n Four months.\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n I tried to off myself. Isn", "trouble finding the place?\n \n CONRAD\n Not yet.\n \n Dr Berger gives him a second look. Telephone Rings. Dr\n Berger sits at his desk, looks up file.\n \n DR BERGER\n Hmm.... Jarrett. How long since\n you've been out of the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n A month and a half.\n \n DR BERGER\n Feeling depressed?\n \n CON", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", " CONRAD\n Fuck! Fuck! Ha...\n \n 33 EXT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE BUILDING. STREET. ­ DAY 33\n \n Conrad, sitting on a bench, looks at Dr Berger's office\n windows on the other side of street, hesitating to go. He\n finally crosses the street and enters building.\n \n 34 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE BUILDING. LIFT ­ DAY 34\n \n", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", "DR BERGER'S OFFICE 145\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n I hung on. I stayed with the boat.\n \n DR BERGER\n Exactly.\n \n Conrad cries.\n \n 114.\n \n \n \n 146 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 146\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to", "07.\n 124 CONTINUED: 124\n \n \n Dr Berger fiddles for his keys in the dark to open his\n office's door.\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait, just hold on...\n \n CONRAD\n I need... I need...\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait till we get inside...\n \n Dr Berger finally opens the door. They enter.\n", "I don't remember\n really.\n \n JEANNINE\n You don't want to talk about it?\n \n CONRAD\n Ah, I don't know... I've never\n really talked about it.\n To doctors, but not to anyone else.\n You're the first who's asked.\n \n JEANNINE\n Why did you do it?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh... I don", " DR BERGER\n What time is it?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n Where are you?\n \n CONRAD\n I... I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n All right. Listen to me. Get to the\n office somehow, and I'll meet you\n there.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay.\n \n", " \n CONRAD\n I said I have feelings.\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh! Now you have, now you don't!\n Get it together, Jarrett.\n \n CONRAD\n Why you hassle me? Why are you\n trying to make me mad?\n \n DR BERGER\n Are you mad?\n \n CONRAD\n No!\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh,", "\n \n CONRAD\n I've heard this all before.\n \n DR BERGER\n Doesn't make it any less true.\n \n CONRAD\n I'm so tired.\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah, well... that's a hell of a\n secret you've been keeping on\n yourself.\n \n CONRAD\n So what do I do now?\n \n \n \n \n", "'s out. Come on,\n something's on your mind.\n \n CONRAD\n What time is it?\n \n DR BERGER\n No, no, never mind the time.\n There's time. Look. Remember the\n contract? Control? Maybe there's\n some connection between control and\n uh... ­ what do we call it? - lack\n of feeling? Mmm?\n \n CONRAD\n I said I feel", "\n (CONTINUED)\n \n 41.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n CONRAD\n Oh, I see. So you get to tell the\n time, but I can't. Is that it?\n \n DR BERGER\n Mmm, mmm.\n \n CONRAD\n So you know when the hour's up?\n \n DR", "practice\n twice a week, and come here.\n \n DR BERGER\n Well. It's up to you.\n \n CONRAD\n I don't like being here. I got to\n tell you I don't like being here at\n all.\n \n Dr Berger nods.\n \n DR BERGER\n Mm-mmm.\n \n 36 INT. DINING ROOM ­ NIGHT 36\n", "year?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n That's why you need a tranquilizer?\n \n CONRAD\n You tell me!\n \n DR BERGER\n No. It's up to you!\n \n CONRAD\n Fifty bucks an hour, can't you\n decide if I should have a pill or\n not? I mean, you're", "? Want\n to tell me about it?\n \n Silence\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Well I suppose you talked this over\n with Crawford at the hospital.\n Right?\n \n CONRAD\n Right.\n \n Conrad nods.\n \n DR BERGER\n How did that go?\n \n CONRAD\n It didn't change anything.\n \n DR BERGER", ")\n \n 81.\n 76 CONTINUED: 76\n \n \n DR BERGER\n Why don't you give yourself a\n break? Let yourself off the hook?\n \n CONRAD\n What did I do?\n \n No answer.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n What did I do?\n \n DR BERGER\n We'll talk about it", "\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n What do you think?\n \n DR BERGER\n I think you came in here looking\n like something out of The Body\n Snatchers. It's not my impression\n that you need a tranquilizer.\n \n Conrad notices a cube on the table.\n \n CONRAD\n What is this?\n \n DR BERGER\n Clock.\n \n ", "S OFFICE 143\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n Haaa...\n \n DR BERGER\n You know.\n \n 144 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 144\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 145 INT.", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n " ], [ "\n From inside, Conrad finally sees his father in the garden,\n reflecting. Patches of snow. Conrad puts on his coat over\n his pyjamas, and joins him.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad?\n \n CALVIN\n The yard looks smaller without\n leaves.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad? What happened?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother's going away for a\n while.\n", " here? Conrad, what's your theory on\n Jude Fawley? Conrad?\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 15.\n 22 CONTINUED: 22\n \n \n Conrad comes back to it\n \n TEACHER (cont'd)\n What's your theory on Jude Fawley?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh...\n \n ", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", "\n Oh, he needed it. You didn't. You\n were always so hard on yourself, I\n never had the heart.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh, Dad. Don't.\n \n CALVIN\n No, it's the truth. I... I never\n worried about you. I just wasn't\n listening.\n \n CONRAD\n Well, I wasn't putting out many\n signals then. I don't think", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n ", "AD\n Karen's... I called...\n \n KAREN'S FATHER\n Karen's dead.\n \n CONRAD\n What? What?\n \n KAREN'S FATHER\n She killed herself.\n \n Karen's father hangs up. Conrad suffocates under the shock.\n He hears Karen's voice.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n Let's have the best Christmas", "? Explain it to me.\n \n CONRAD\n Ha! I can't! Everything is German\n pudding with you , dad. You don't\n see things!\n \n CALVIN\n What things?\n \n Conrad sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n What things? Please, I want you to\n tell me.\n \n CONRAD\n That she hates me! Can'", " KAREN'S FATHER (OS)\n Hello.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 102.\n 94 CONTINUED: 94\n \n \n CONRAD\n Yes, hello. Is Karen there? This is\n Conrad Jarrett, calling. I'm a\n friend of hers.\n \n KAREN'S FATHER CONR", " \n CONRAD\n Don't blame it on Burger, it's not\n his fault!\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 78.\n 76 CONTINUED: 76\n \n \n Calvin opens the door.\n \n CALVIN\n I'll be downstairs if you need me.\n \n Exit Calvin. Conrad remains lying on his back with his arm", "\n \n [Close in on Conrad]\n \n 3 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 3\n \n Conrad suddenly wakes up from nightmare\n \n 4 INT. THEATER PLAY - ON STAGE - NIGHT 4\n \n A man of fifty is holding his wife's hand over the breakfast\n table.\n \n MAN\n Do you know we've made love one\n hundred and thirteen times?\n \n We hear laughter", " TEACHER\n Do you think he was powerless in\n the grip of circumstances... or\n could he have helped himself?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't... Uh...Powerless? I guess he\n thought he was, yeah.\n \n JOEL\n The guy was a real jerk. He was\n hung up on what was the moral thing\n to do. It didn't make any sense.\n \n TEACHER\n I think", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n ", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", " DR BERGER\n For what?\n \n CONRAD\n For what I did!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n What I did to him!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n It's something... It's something...\n Don't you see? It's gotta be\n somebody's fault or", "\n (CONTINUED)\n \n 109.\n 129 CONTINUED: 129\n \n \n DR BERGER\n I know that, it wasn't your fault.\n \n CONRAD\n But it was: you said. \"Get the sail\n down!\" ...\n \n 130 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 130\n \n Flash on", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "9.\n \n \n \n 30 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 30\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Buck is overboard swimming, trying to cling at the overturned\n small sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Give me your hand!\n \n 31 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT ", "DR BERGER'S OFFICE 145\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n I hung on. I stayed with the boat.\n \n DR BERGER\n Exactly.\n \n Conrad cries.\n \n 114.\n \n \n \n 146 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 146\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 7.\n 8 CONTINUED: 8\n \n \n Calvin opens the door, but does not enter the room,\n respecting his son's privacy:\n \n CALVIN\n You okay?\n \n CONRAD\n Mmm, mm. Yeah.\n How was the show?\n \n Calvin shrugs, as if to say \"so and so...\"\n \n ", "more than she's\n able.\n \n CONRAD\n But she loves my father. I know she\n loved my brother. It's me!\n \n DR BERGER\n Ha! Now we're back to the rotten\n kid routine! She can't love you\n because you're unlovable. Where\n does that leave your dad? How come\n he loves you? You're a rottenkid,\n doesn't he know that?" ], [ "INUED: 66\n CONRAD (cont'd)\n What do people have in common with\n mothers anyway? It's all surface\n junk. You know: \"Clean your room,\n brush your teeth, get good grades,\n nah, nah, nah, veh...\"\n Hey, look, I'm just wasting money\n today. I am not gonna feel\n anything. I'm sorry.\n \n DR BERGER\n No. Sorry", "\n From inside, Conrad finally sees his father in the garden,\n reflecting. Patches of snow. Conrad puts on his coat over\n his pyjamas, and joins him.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad?\n \n CALVIN\n The yard looks smaller without\n leaves.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad? What happened?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother's going away for a\n while.\n", "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", " called. This is Conrad. Calling.\n Just tell her I called and I'm\n feeling great, and I just wanted\n to talk to her.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Yes. I will.\n \n CONRAD\n OK. Thank you.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Good bye.\n \n Conrad walks nervously around to and fro for a while then\n looks up into directory. He finds Je", "pisses me off.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay. Okay.\n \n DR BERGER\n So everything was fine till you had\n the fight with your mother, then\n everything was lousy.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah, but I don't blame her. I\n mean, she's got... She's got her\n reasons. It's impossible after all\n the shit I've pulled!\n \n DR BER", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 80.\n 76 CONTINUED: 76\n \n \n DR BERGER\n Recognize her limitations.\n \n CONRAD\n You mean, like she can't love me?\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh, kiddo, no. Like she can't love\n you enough. Like don't blame her\n for not loving you", "in a low voice.\n \n CONRAD\n Alleluia!\n \n He browses quickly through a pocket book, finds the piece of\n paper inserted in it, picks up phone and dials the number\n written on the paper\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Hello?\n \n CONRAD\n Hello. Is Karen there?\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Who's calling, please?\n \n \n \n", "? Explain it to me.\n \n CONRAD\n Ha! I can't! Everything is German\n pudding with you , dad. You don't\n see things!\n \n CALVIN\n What things?\n \n Conrad sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n What things? Please, I want you to\n tell me.\n \n CONRAD\n That she hates me! Can'", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", " in her towels, in her rug.\n Everything had to be pitched.\n Even the tiles in the bathroom\n had to be regrouted. Christ, she\n fired the godamn maid because she\n couldn't dust the living room\n right. If you think I'm gonna\n forgive... - that she's gonna\n forgive me...\n \n Conrad stops. Dr. Berger looks at Conrad to signal him he\n just said something: Conrad realizes he just made a Freud", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n ", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n ", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 71.\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n \n \n CONRAD\n It's a friend of hers from\n Hillsboro?\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Oh... Well, she's ...not home from\n school yet.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. Um...Hmm. Just tell her I\n ", " hurt me. Isn't it?\n \n CONRAD\n Don't you have that backwards?\n \n BETH\n Oh? And how do I hurt you? By\n embarrassing you in front of a\n friend? Poor Beth! She has no idea\n what her son is up to! He lies and\n she believes every word of it.\n \n CONRAD\n I didn't lie!\n \n BETH\n You did!", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", " right, you know. He sweats\n everything so much, he'll just get\n worried about it.\n \n DR BERGER\n Can you tell your mother?\n \n CONRAD\n My mother? My mother and I don't\n connect. Don't you listen? I told\n you that.\n (MORE)\n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 60.\n 66 CONT", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "\n \n [Close in on Conrad]\n \n 3 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 3\n \n Conrad suddenly wakes up from nightmare\n \n 4 INT. THEATER PLAY - ON STAGE - NIGHT 4\n \n A man of fifty is holding his wife's hand over the breakfast\n table.\n \n MAN\n Do you know we've made love one\n hundred and thirteen times?\n \n We hear laughter", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", "\n (CONTINUED)\n \n 109.\n 129 CONTINUED: 129\n \n \n DR BERGER\n I know that, it wasn't your fault.\n \n CONRAD\n But it was: you said. \"Get the sail\n down!\" ...\n \n 130 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 130\n \n Flash on" ], [ "'s out. Come on,\n something's on your mind.\n \n CONRAD\n What time is it?\n \n DR BERGER\n No, no, never mind the time.\n There's time. Look. Remember the\n contract? Control? Maybe there's\n some connection between control and\n uh... ­ what do we call it? - lack\n of feeling? Mmm?\n \n CONRAD\n I said I feel", " \n CONRAD\n I said I have feelings.\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh! Now you have, now you don't!\n Get it together, Jarrett.\n \n CONRAD\n Why you hassle me? Why are you\n trying to make me mad?\n \n DR BERGER\n Are you mad?\n \n CONRAD\n No!\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh,", " TEACHER\n Do you think he was powerless in\n the grip of circumstances... or\n could he have helped himself?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't... Uh...Powerless? I guess he\n thought he was, yeah.\n \n JOEL\n The guy was a real jerk. He was\n hung up on what was the moral thing\n to do. It didn't make any sense.\n \n TEACHER\n I think", "DR BERGER'S OFFICE 145\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n I hung on. I stayed with the boat.\n \n DR BERGER\n Exactly.\n \n Conrad cries.\n \n 114.\n \n \n \n 146 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 146\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to", "both hands of Conrad holding tight the rudder\n \n CONRAD\n ...and I couldn't!\n \n \n 131 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 131\n \n CONRAD\n I couldn't! It jammed! And then the\n halyard, the halyard jammed! I\n couldn't because the godamn halyard\n jammed! And then you're sittin'\n here,", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n ", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", "\n Why do you want to change?\n \n CONRAD\n I told you, I'd like to be more in\n control.\n \n DR BERGER\n Why?\n \n CONRAD\n I told you, so people can quit\n worrying about me.\n \n DR BERGER\n Well. I'll tell you something. I'll\n be straight with you, okay? I'm not\n big on control. But", "shoulder. We just sat\n there.\n I remember I was watching his\n shoe.\n And thinking...\n Cos his shoe was turned over on\n its side.\n I was thinking: \"He's so uptight,\n it's gonna crack off.\"\n \n Dr Berger listens carefully.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n And I knew I should have felt\n something.\n But I didn't know what to feel.\n ", " DR BERGER\n For what?\n \n CONRAD\n For what I did!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n What I did to him!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n It's something... It's something...\n Don't you see? It's gotta be\n somebody's fault or", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "\n \n CONRAD\n That's different. He feels\n responsible. Besides, he loves\n everybody.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ho, I get it! The guy's got no\n taste! He loves you, but he's\n wrong.\n Look... maybe she just can't\n express it the way you'd like her\n to. Maybe she's just afraid to\n show you what she feels.\n \n CONR", "21.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n CONRAD\n I don't know.\n \n Dr Berger sits at table, looks up another file.\n \n DR BERGER\n How long were you in the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n Four months.\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n I tried to off myself. Isn", " in her towels, in her rug.\n Everything had to be pitched.\n Even the tiles in the bathroom\n had to be regrouted. Christ, she\n fired the godamn maid because she\n couldn't dust the living room\n right. If you think I'm gonna\n forgive... - that she's gonna\n forgive me...\n \n Conrad stops. Dr. Berger looks at Conrad to signal him he\n just said something: Conrad realizes he just made a Freud", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n", "\n \n CONRAD\n I've heard this all before.\n \n DR BERGER\n Doesn't make it any less true.\n \n CONRAD\n I'm so tired.\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah, well... that's a hell of a\n secret you've been keeping on\n yourself.\n \n CONRAD\n So what do I do now?\n \n \n \n \n", " Uh... I'd like to be more in\n control, I guess.\n \n DR BERGER\n Why?\n \n CONRAD\n So people can quit worrying about\n me.\n \n DR BERGER\n Who's worried about you?\n \n CONRAD\n My father, mostly. This is his\n idea.\n \n DR BERGER\n What about your mother? Isn't she\n ", "DR BERGER\n Why not?\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 62.\n 66 CONTINUED: 66\n \n \n CONRAD\n I can't...\n \n DR BERGER\n Why not?\n \n CONRAD\n I can't do this. It takes too much\n energy to get mad!\n \n ", "S OFFICE 143\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n Haaa...\n \n DR BERGER\n You know.\n \n 144 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 144\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 145 INT." ], [ "Jarrett?\n \n Conrad nods.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come in. Sit down.\n \n Dr Berger is fixing an amplifier\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n I just have to... wire some...\n volume.\n \n Music suddenly blares. Dr Berger stops it.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Ah... sorry. Sit down! You've had\n ", "rett, bye.\n \n BETH\n Good-bye.\n \n Children's laughs. Beth closes the door.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n The Cabbots. Little Julie's first\n time. God, she's so cute!\n \n 40 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­ NIGHT 40\n \n The children run away, laughing.\n \n CHILDREN\n Ha", "ll play some touch\n football on the lawn.\n \n CONRAD\n See you later.\n \n Exit Conrad. Calvin resumes eating, reflects, then :\n \n CALVIN\n Con!\n \n But his son is gone.\n \n 12.\n \n \n \n 19 EXT. JARRETT'S HOME ­ MORNING 19\n \n Calvin walks up the alley to the street.", "you.\n Jarrett.\n \n Lazenby walks away to the others, waiting. They leave.\n \n STILLMAN\n Ooh! Ohh!\n \n LAZENBY\n Shut up. Leave it alone.\n \n STILLMAN\n I told you. The guy's a flake.\n \n They laugh. Conrad, angry with himself, slams his locker's\n door.\n \n \n 66 INT. DR B", "answer. She enters in an authoritarian way, then\n comes out and closes the door. She then goes to the next door\n on the landing (Buck's bedroom), stops in front of it. She\n hesitates, then enters.\n \n 44 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 44\n \n Beth slowly enters Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent.\n Everything has stayed like it was. Beth looks around, sits on\n bed. Stares at photos", "seems stunned.\n \n BETH\n What was it you were you thinking\n about?\n \n CALVIN\n When?\n \n Calvin gives his wife a conventional smile. She coddles up\n against him, but it is cold.\n \n 7 INT. JARRETT'S HOME. ­ NIGHT 7\n \n Car enters garage.\n \n [car door Alarm On] / [car door Alarm Off] as car doors open\n ", " \n 51.\n 54 CONTINUED: 54\n \n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Did she really?\n \n Beth laughs again.\n \n [echo effect to get into Flashback]\n \n 55 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, GARDEN ­ DAY 55\n \n Beth is laughing at Buck story. She is lying leisurely on a\n mattress on the lawn. Buck", "while and stares. Then goes inside.\n \n 54 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. DINING ROOM ­ DAY 54\n \n Conrad enters hesitantly, back from garden. Beth is busy\n dressing up the table.\n \n CONRAD\n Can I help?\n \n BETH\n Help what? Oh, you mean with this?\n No.\n \n CONRAD\n I will.\n \n ", "s fair!\n \n In the commuter train Calvin also remembers...\n \n \n 60 INT. JARRETT'S HOME. LANDING ­ NIGHT 60\n \n Calvin knocks violently on Conrad's bedroom door\n \n CALVIN\n Conrad! Conrad!\n \n BETH\n What is it?\n \n \n 61 EXT. JARRETT'S HOME. STREET ­ NIGHT", "\n BETH\n I don't think he knows what he\n wants to do.\n \n 42 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 42\n \n Beth arrives in alley with car, takes out shopping, enters\n house.\n \n 43 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BEDROOM'S LANDING ­DAY 43\n \n Beth goes upstairs with her shopping, knocks on Conrad's\n door. No", "\n \n KAREN\n Hey!\n \n A customer is startled.\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Would you cheer up?\n \n Conrad sits there with a strange feeling of embarrassment,\n reflecting.\n \n \n 53 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. GARDEN ­ DAY 53\n \n From inside, Beth stares outside in the garden where Conrad\n is lying on a chaise lounge. She", " \n Going home on the commuter, Calvin is thoughtful. He\n remembers his sons when they were kids.\n \n \n 59 INT. JARRETT'S DINING ROOM - DAY 59\n \n YOUNG CONRAD\n Give me back my sweater! Come on,\n it's my sweater!\n \n YOUNG BUCK\n Possession is nine tenths...\n \n CALVIN\n Hang", "0 CONTINUED: 90\n \n \n Conrad hits him hard with a jab, then jumps on him. They fall\n in the plastic bags of the disposal, Conrad still hitting.\n Lazenby tries to stop him. Conrad pushes him away. Two\n students take hold of Conrad and pull him away, two others\n with Stillman.\n \n LAZENBY\n Come on! Connie. Come on! Cool it,\n Jarrett! Connie!", ", prizes and objects. It's like a\n museum.\n \n 45 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 45\n \n Conrad arrives on foot.\n \n 46 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 46\n \n Beth in Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent, sitting on bed.\n \n Conrad appears at door, Beth is startled.\n \n BETH\n ", "the class!\n \n Conrad laughs. Beth laughs.\n \n BETH\n Oh, Bucky!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n 56 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, DINING ROOM - DAY 56\n \n Beth laughs. Conrad stares at Beth laughing on the phone. The\n gossip gets too funny.\n \n BETH\n No. Stop!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n INT. Dr", "trouble finding the place?\n \n CONRAD\n Not yet.\n \n Dr Berger gives him a second look. Telephone Rings. Dr\n Berger sits at his desk, looks up file.\n \n DR BERGER\n Hmm.... Jarrett. How long since\n you've been out of the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n A month and a half.\n \n DR BERGER\n Feeling depressed?\n \n CON", "! Ha! Ha! Ha!\n \n BETH (OS)\n Know what I've been thinking?\n \n 41 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 41\n \n Calvin is lying back on the couch. Beth is by his side, and\n talks to him seducingly.\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 30.\n 41 CONTINUED", " \n LAZENBY\n Jarrett. Come on!\n \n Conrad gets in the car.\n \n 20 INT. LAZENBY'S CAR ­ MORNING 20\n \n STILLMAN\n Uh, we're late `cause little\n Dickie's mom had to pack his lunch.\n \n DICKIE VAN BUREN\n Christ, Stillman! You guys were\n late at my house. I been", "INUED: 38\n \n \n CONRAD\n Right. Hum. Yeah. Um. Bye.\n \n JEANNINE\n Bye-bye.\n \n LAZENBY\n \"You've got a lot of energy.\"\n \n 39 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, ENTRANCE - NIGHT 39\n \n Halloween : Beth opens door with a plate of candied apples\n ready. Outside,", ")\n What about the Warrens, did you\n call them?\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, IN THE KITCHEN)\n Yeah, they said they'll make it\n some evening soon.\n \n Look at these people. Everybody I grew up with... is in the\n paper these days.\n \n 12 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 12\n \n Calvin is reading his newspaper. Beth is preparing the\n breakfast\n" ], [ "\n \n CONRAD\n That's different. He feels\n responsible. Besides, he loves\n everybody.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ho, I get it! The guy's got no\n taste! He loves you, but he's\n wrong.\n Look... maybe she just can't\n express it the way you'd like her\n to. Maybe she's just afraid to\n show you what she feels.\n \n CONR", " Oh. Hi!\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 72.\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n \n \n CONRAD\n Hi. Listen. I was... I was\n wondering if maybe you'd like...to\n go out sometime?\n \n JEANNINE\n You mean, with you? Like on a date?\n \n CONRAD\n", " called. This is Conrad. Calling.\n Just tell her I called and I'm\n feeling great, and I just wanted\n to talk to her.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Yes. I will.\n \n CONRAD\n OK. Thank you.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Good bye.\n \n Conrad walks nervously around to and fro for a while then\n looks up into directory. He finds Je", " \n CONRAD\n Yeah, yeah, I... you're sure right.\n \n Pause\n \n KAREN\n I really have to go. I'm sorry. I\n have a meeting over at the school.\n Drama Club meeting. We're doing \"A\n Thousand Clowns\".\n \n CONRAD\n I know, you told me.\n \n KAREN\n Did I?\n \n ", " CONRAD\n Yeah...\n \n KAREN\n You mean it?\n \n CONRAD\n Yep!\n \n KAREN\n You. Uh... You look good. Conrad.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n KAREN\n Bye.\n \n CONRAD\n Bye-bye.\n \n She leaves. Then stops a few steps away, and shouts :", "\n \n [Close in on Conrad]\n \n 3 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 3\n \n Conrad suddenly wakes up from nightmare\n \n 4 INT. THEATER PLAY - ON STAGE - NIGHT 4\n \n A man of fifty is holding his wife's hand over the breakfast\n table.\n \n MAN\n Do you know we've made love one\n hundred and thirteen times?\n \n We hear laughter", "things.\n \n DR BERGER\n When?\n \n CONRAD\n Ah, God... Come on.\n \n DR BERGER\n When?\n \n CONRAD\n Sometimes. I don't know.\n \n DR BERGER\n Come on, come on, Jarrett, I\n thought you didn't like to fool\n around.\n \n CONRAD\n I don't? I", " DR BERGER\n I mean, besides Dr. Crawford?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n 52 INT. RESTAURANT ­ DAY 52\n \n Conrad is sitting, reflecting. A young woman's hand blinds\n him for a second : Karen has arrived.\n \n CONRAD\n Whoa!\n \n KAREN\n Hi!\n \n CONR", " CONRAD\n (shouts at him)\n What do I think? I think you\n married your fat lady... and you\n goona over fuck the daylights out\n of her!\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 63.\n 66 CONTINUED: 66\n \n \n DR BERGER\n Sounds good to me.\n \n CONRAD", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n", " \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Yeah?\n \n Jeannine nods.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Anyway, I'd like to try it again. I\n thought it worked out okay. Well,\n except for the bowling.\n \n Jeannine laughs, looks down, then looks up straight in his\n eyes.\n \n JEANNINE\n Yes.\n \n CONRAD", " CONRAD\n I do?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah. I mean, That's good. My\n name's Jeannine Pratt.\n \n CONRAD\n Nice. Hi!\n \n JEANNINE'S FRIEND\n You're Conrad Jarrett, remember?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 29.\n 38 CONT", "71 CONTINUED: 71\n \n \n JEANNINE\n Really?\n \n Jeannine looks at him, then:\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n Oh, that's my bus, I got to go!\n \n She runs and gets into the bus. Conrad follows and see her\n gets into the bus.\n \n JEANNINE (cont'd)\n I'll see you later", " DR BERGER\n Oh, yes! I'm with a patient now.\n Can you call back at two\n fifteen?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't think I'll be free.\n \n DR BERGER\n Then give me your number. I'll call\n you tonite. Hello? Hello?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh, that's OK, I'll try to call you\n back. Thanks.\n ", " Well, yeah, we wouldn't have to\n call it a real date. We could fake\n it sort of, to see how it goes..\n \n Jeannine laughs.\n \n JEANNINE\n That was dumb. Forget it. Just\n forget it. Now start over.\n \n CONRAD\n Hi, this is Conrad Jarrett...\n \n JEANNINE\n (interrupting) )\n I'd love", " CONRAD\n So you're afraid he'll punish you\n for something you did?\n \n JEANNINE\n I've done a lot of things I'm\n ashamed of.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah? So have I.\n \n She looks up at him, then at his wrists.\n \n JEANNINE\n Did it hurt?\n \n CONRAD\n No, I dunno,", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 71.\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n \n \n CONRAD\n It's a friend of hers from\n Hillsboro?\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Oh... Well, she's ...not home from\n school yet.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. Um...Hmm. Just tell her I\n ", "? Explain it to me.\n \n CONRAD\n Ha! I can't! Everything is German\n pudding with you , dad. You don't\n see things!\n \n CALVIN\n What things?\n \n Conrad sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n What things? Please, I want you to\n tell me.\n \n CONRAD\n That she hates me! Can'", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n " ], [ "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "tight the rope maintaining the sail up)\n to have him get the sail down;\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 103.\n 98 CONTINUED: 98\n \n but Buck is stubborn and asks Conrad (who is at the helm) to\n maintain starboard course.[The result of opposites will\n overturn the small boat]. Waves of water\n \n CONRAD\n Get the sail", "17\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 118 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 118\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 119 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 119\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 120 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 120\n \n Con", "down! Get it down!\n \n BUCK\n I can't hold it! Keep it starboard!\n \n 99 INT. KITCHEN ­ NIGHT 99\n \n Conrad stares at himself in the mirror\n \n 100 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 100\n \n CONRAD\n Get the sail down! Get it down!\n \n BUCK\n Keep it starboard!\n ", "rad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n 121 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 121\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 106.\n \n \n \n 122 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 122\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n", "rad stares at the water in his hands\n \n 104 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 104\n \n CONRAD\n Let it out!\n \n BUCK\n Just keep it starboard!\n \n CONRAD\n I can't!\n \n Boat overturns.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Ahh!\n \n BUCK\n Ahh!\n", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", "is standing, telling his story.\n \n BUCK\n Oh anyway, Mary Ann Ramon started\n to just scream, just cry, right?\n It was crazy. We got so drunk\n that we couldn't talk to each\n other. It was the last day... the\n last day of school.\n \n A younger Conrad, sitting aside, is listening too, amused.\n \n BUCK (cont'd)\n We walked out of the building in\n the middle of", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 112 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 112\n \n BUCK\n Just don't let go!\n \n CONRAD\n I won't, honest to God!\n \n BUCK\n Everything gonna be okay!\n \n 105.\n \n \n \n 113 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 113\n ", "9.\n \n \n \n 30 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 30\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Buck is overboard swimming, trying to cling at the overturned\n small sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Give me your hand!\n \n 31 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT ", "their small\n sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Lift the rope off Bucky!\n \n 29 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 29\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. NIGHTMARE. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT\n \n Conrad and Buck are fighting against the storm in their small\n sailboat\n \n BUCK\n We're going in!\n \n 1", "there's no\n godamm point!\n \n DR BERGER\n Point? What point? It happened!\n \n CONRAD\n No, no... Oh, no. I don't mean\n that. It's that... It's just\n that... Buck, Bucky, I didn't mean\n it!\n \n 126 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 126\n \n Flash of Buck in storm.\n \n", " 107\n \n Conrad rushes downstairs with his coat.\n \n 108 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 108\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n BUCK\n Give me your hand!\n \n CONRAD\n Here!\n \n 109 EXT. HOUSE ­ NIGHT 109\n \n Conrad rushes out of the house.\n \n ", "\n (CONTINUED)\n \n 109.\n 129 CONTINUED: 129\n \n \n DR BERGER\n I know that, it wasn't your fault.\n \n CONRAD\n But it was: you said. \"Get the sail\n down!\" ...\n \n 130 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 130\n \n Flash on", "110 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 110\n \n The boys are holding each other's hands over the overturned\n boat's hull.\n \n BUCK\n We screwed up this time, Buddy!\n Dad's gonna haul ass over this!\n \n CONRAD\n It ain't so goddamned funny!\n \n 111 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 111\n ", "­ NIGHT 134\n \n Flash of Conrad giving Buck a hand over the overturned hull\n of the boat.\n \n CONRAD\n And I'm supposed to take care of\n it!\n \n \n 135 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 135\n \n DR BERGER\n And that wasn't fair, was it?\n \n CONRAD\n No! And then", "\n \n Calvin sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n Maybe it wasn't even Buck.\n Maybe it was just you.\n Maybe, finally, it was the best\n of you that you buried.\n (MORE)\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 123.\n 156 CONTINUED: 156\n CALVIN", "you're screwing around...\n \n 132 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 132\n \n Flash of Buck in water trying to hold on overturned boat.\n \n \n 133 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 133\n \n CONRAD\n ...until it's too late to do\n anything! And I'm supposed to take\n care of it!\n \n 134 EXT. LAKE", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She" ], [ " He thinks it's a good idea.\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 90.\n 81 CONTINUED: 81\n \n \n BETH\n Ho... He thinks it's a good idea?\n What does he know about me, about\n this family? I've never even met\n him.\n \n CALVIN\n Exactly. That", "to be a nice Christmas.\n \n CALVIN\n I do too. I want all of them to be\n nice Christmases\n \n BETH\n We need time together, Calvin. You\n and I. We have to get away. New\n Years'. We can spend some time in\n Houston with my brother and Audrey.\n You know, play a little golf.\n Relax.\n \n Calvin seems doubtfull. Beth goes softly.\n \n ", " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", " BETH\n Did she die in Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n I guess so. Why?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 25.\n 36 CONTINUED: 36\n \n \n BETH\n You said she was always traveling.\n I just... wondered if she died in\n Idaho.\n \n CALVIN\n ", ")\n What about the Warrens, did you\n call them?\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, IN THE KITCHEN)\n Yeah, they said they'll make it\n some evening soon.\n \n Look at these people. Everybody I grew up with... is in the\n paper these days.\n \n 12 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 12\n \n Calvin is reading his newspaper. Beth is preparing the\n breakfast\n", ".\n \n 88 EXT. HUSTON GOLF ­ AFTERNOON 88\n \n Golf ball being wished out of sight by a club. Beth, Calvin,\n Ward (Beth's brother) and his wife Audrey, are having drinks\n sitting at a table on a golf course under a parasol.\n \n WARD lifts his golf club and demonstrates a clumsy hesitating\n swing, and how it misses.\n \n WARD\n Watch this. Pess", "in green going upstairs, drunk, trips over Calvin\n \n CALVIN\n Oh!\n \n Calvin laughs. The woman goes upstairs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n No, no. No. No. He's...\n \n Beth, not far, listens.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n There's a doctor in Highland\n Park... that he sees a couple of\n times a week. That kinda", ".\n \n CALVIN\n Just hear me out, Beth! It won't\n hurt you to listen!\n \n BETH\n I won't listen to that! No one in\n their right mind would listen to\n that.\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 88.\n 78 CONTINUED: 78\n \n \n CALV", "4\n \n Calvin is reading his newspaper. Beth is cooking some French\n toast.\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 9.\n 14 CONTINUED: 14\n \n \n BETH\n Yes. She'll talk to John.\n Where's Conrad? This'll get\n cold.\n \n CALVIN\n Con!\n \n 15 ", "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", " \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 34.\n 48 CONTINUED: 48\n \n \n BETH\n Okay. Yeah. Come on. Let's go.\n What's our excuse?\n \n CALVIN\n Beth wanted to go to the movies?\n \n BETH\n Good. Very good.\n \n She laughs strangely.\n ", ".\n \n 156 INT. DINING ROOM ­ NIGHT 156\n \n Beth enters the dining room in the dark.\n \n BETH\n Calvin?\n \n Calvin is sitting at table in the dark, sobbing, his head in\n his hands.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Why are you crying?\n \n Calvin doesn't answer.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n", "that is what this is for.\n Maybe you'll get a surprise.\n \n BETH\n I don't want any surprises.\n I know I'm not perfect. And if I\n can't go around hugging everybody\n all the time the way you do, then\n I'm sorry.\n \n CALVIN\n I am not asking you to be perfect,\n you're missing the point.\n \n BETH\n I don", "\n 49 EXT. MURRAY'S HOUSE ­ NIGHT 49\n \n The car is arriving at the Murrays' house, we see in\n background\n \n BETH\n All right now, smile.\n \n And remember, not too many martinis.\n \n 50 INT. MURRAY'S HOUSE ­ NIGHT 50\n \n Gladyce the maid goes open the door. Beth enters all smiles,\n followed by Calvin.\n", " Did you?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n CALVIN\n Good! You didn't say anything.\n Good!\n \n CONRAD\n I went.\n \n CALVIN\n When?\n \n CONRAD\n Today.\n \n Beth comes closer\n \n BETH\n I didn't know you made an\n appointment.\n \n CAL", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 86.\n 77 CONTINUED: 77\n \n \n CALVIN\n Mmm. She's very... No. There's no\n problem with her for me. We've\n been... We've been married nearly\n twenty one years. Everybody loves\n Beth. But, huh... for Conrad, -\n it's been difficult. He", "INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ MORNING 15\n \n Conrad's sitting on his bed.\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, downstairs)\n (to Beth)\n Will you drop those suits at the\n cleaners for me?\n \n BETH\n They won't be back by Saturday.\n \n 16 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 16\n \n Beth still preparing", " AUDREY\n He is trying to get everybody to\n move down here.\n \n BETH\n Really?\n \n AUDREY\n Gosh, you guys, it's so good to see\n you. You look tired. Cal.\n \n CALVIN\n Airplane scotch.\n \n BETH\n Would you tell me why it is I am\n still hungry?\n \n WARD\n", " BETH\n No...\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n What's his name?\n \n BETH\n Berger.\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n Jewish doctor?\n \n BETH\n I dunno, I suppose he's Jewish.\n Maybe just German.\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n What does Cal say about all this?\n \n Beth shows her mother the two pieces of the plate and puts" ], [ " found out she's dead.\n \n DR BERGER\n Jesus.\n \n CONRAD\n And she was fine, she was OK.\n \n DR BERGER\n No. She wasn't.\n \n CONRAD\n She was! She was! She told me! She\n said she was...\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n She was busy, she was feeling", "It's not that easy.\n God... I loved him.\n \n DR BERGER\n I know.\n \n Dr Berger takes off his coat, sits down. Calvin cries.\n \n DR BERGER (cont'd)\n What happened? You said something\n happened. What started all this?\n \n Calvin stutters with pain and cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Ka-ren. She killed herself! I just\n ", "AD\n Karen's... I called...\n \n KAREN'S FATHER\n Karen's dead.\n \n CONRAD\n What? What?\n \n KAREN'S FATHER\n She killed herself.\n \n Karen's father hangs up. Conrad suffocates under the shock.\n He hears Karen's voice.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n Let's have the best Christmas", ".\n Really do.\n \n KAREN\n Things have to change. You know?\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 47.\n 52 CONTINUED: 52\n \n \n CONRAD\n But that's where we had the laughs.\n \n KAREN\n But that was a hospital. This is\n the real world.\n", "21.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n CONRAD\n I don't know.\n \n Dr Berger sits at table, looks up another file.\n \n DR BERGER\n How long were you in the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n Four months.\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n I tried to off myself. Isn", "\n \n KAREN\n Hey!\n \n A customer is startled.\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Would you cheer up?\n \n Conrad sits there with a strange feeling of embarrassment,\n reflecting.\n \n \n 53 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. GARDEN ­ DAY 53\n \n From inside, Beth stares outside in the garden where Conrad\n is lying on a chaise lounge. She", " I don't know. Maybe she died in\n Idaho. Maybe Kansas City.\n \n Conrad laughs. Calvin too. Calvin is first surprised, then\n pleased by his son's reaction.\n \n CONRAD\n I went to see Dr. Berger.\n \n In the kitchen, Beth stops and listens.\n \n CALVIN\n Berger?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n CALVIN\n ", " 67.\n 68 CONTINUED: 68\n \n \n BETH\n I don't know. I suppose this doctor\n he's seeing.\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n What sort of doctor... would make\n that decision for you?\n \n BETH\n A psychiatrist.\n \n GRANDMOTHER\n I thought we were all finished with\n that.\n \n", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", " You really look beautiful.\n \n KAREN\n So do you.\n \n CONRAD\n Do you miss it?\n \n KAREN\n Miss what?\n \n CONRAD\n The hospital.\n \n KAREN\n No.\n \n Waiter brings two cokes\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Thank you.\n \n CONRAD\n You don", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", " And I know why she never came to\n the hospital, she's busy going to\n goddamn Spain and... goddamn\n Portugal! Why should she care if\n I'm hung up by the balls out\n there?\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 75.\n 75 CONTINUED: 75\n \n \n BETH\n Maybe this is how they sit around\n ", "I don't remember\n really.\n \n JEANNINE\n You don't want to talk about it?\n \n CONRAD\n Ah, I don't know... I've never\n really talked about it.\n To doctors, but not to anyone else.\n You're the first who's asked.\n \n JEANNINE\n Why did you do it?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh... I don", " DR BERGER\n I mean, besides Dr. Crawford?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n 52 INT. RESTAURANT ­ DAY 52\n \n Conrad is sitting, reflecting. A young woman's hand blinds\n him for a second : Karen has arrived.\n \n CONRAD\n Whoa!\n \n KAREN\n Hi!\n \n CONR", "? Want\n to tell me about it?\n \n Silence\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Well I suppose you talked this over\n with Crawford at the hospital.\n Right?\n \n CONRAD\n Right.\n \n Conrad nods.\n \n DR BERGER\n How did that go?\n \n CONRAD\n It didn't change anything.\n \n DR BERGER", " BETH\n Did she die in Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n I guess so. Why?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 25.\n 36 CONTINUED: 36\n \n \n BETH\n You said she was always traveling.\n I just... wondered if she died in\n Idaho.\n \n CALVIN\n ", " Are you seeing a doctor?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah. I'm seeing a doctor. Are you?\n \n KAREN\n Uh... Uh, well, Dr. Crawford gave me\n a name, and I went for a while. But\n uh... I dunno.It just didn't work\n for me, I guess. He just kept\n telling me all the things I already\n knew, and , uh... finally, I\n decided... the", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She", "rad breaks down and cries.\n \n DR BERGER\n It hurts to be mad at him, doesn't\n it?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah. He just wasn't careful. He\n just wouldn't care. He didn't see\n how a bad thing might happen.\n \n DR BERGER\n Bad things happen even when people\n are careful.\n \n CONRAD\n We were screwing around out there,", "ause\n \n KAREN\n Your hair grew in.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh, yes. That was such a dumb thing\n to do.\n \n KAREN\n I like it.\n \n CONRAD\n You do?\n \n KAREN\n Yeah!\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know, I just... Uh...\n I miss it sometimes, the\n hospital" ], [ "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "rad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n 121 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 121\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 106.\n \n \n \n 122 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 122\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n", "is standing, telling his story.\n \n BUCK\n Oh anyway, Mary Ann Ramon started\n to just scream, just cry, right?\n It was crazy. We got so drunk\n that we couldn't talk to each\n other. It was the last day... the\n last day of school.\n \n A younger Conrad, sitting aside, is listening too, amused.\n \n BUCK (cont'd)\n We walked out of the building in\n the middle of", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She", " 107\n \n Conrad rushes downstairs with his coat.\n \n 108 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 108\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n BUCK\n Give me your hand!\n \n CONRAD\n Here!\n \n 109 EXT. HOUSE ­ NIGHT 109\n \n Conrad rushes out of the house.\n \n ", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 112 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 112\n \n BUCK\n Just don't let go!\n \n CONRAD\n I won't, honest to God!\n \n BUCK\n Everything gonna be okay!\n \n 105.\n \n \n \n 113 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 113\n ", "17\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 118 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 118\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 119 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 119\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 120 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 120\n \n Con", "­ NIGHT 134\n \n Flash of Conrad giving Buck a hand over the overturned hull\n of the boat.\n \n CONRAD\n And I'm supposed to take care of\n it!\n \n \n 135 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 135\n \n DR BERGER\n And that wasn't fair, was it?\n \n CONRAD\n No! And then", "9.\n \n \n \n 30 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 30\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Buck is overboard swimming, trying to cling at the overturned\n small sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Give me your hand!\n \n 31 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT ", "tight the rope maintaining the sail up)\n to have him get the sail down;\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 103.\n 98 CONTINUED: 98\n \n but Buck is stubborn and asks Conrad (who is at the helm) to\n maintain starboard course.[The result of opposites will\n overturn the small boat]. Waves of water\n \n CONRAD\n Get the sail", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "their small\n sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Lift the rope off Bucky!\n \n 29 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 29\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. NIGHTMARE. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT\n \n Conrad and Buck are fighting against the storm in their small\n sailboat\n \n BUCK\n We're going in!\n \n 1", "'t...\n His mother doesn't show him a\n great deal of affection. I'm not\n trying to put her down in any way\n at all. She is a wonderful woman,\n huh...\n \n DR BERGER\n Did she give Buck much affection to\n ...Buck?\n \n CALVIN\n Oh, god, yes, she loved Buck!\n Bucky got so much... I think what\n she felt for him was special. You", "there's no\n godamm point!\n \n DR BERGER\n Point? What point? It happened!\n \n CONRAD\n No, no... Oh, no. I don't mean\n that. It's that... It's just\n that... Buck, Bucky, I didn't mean\n it!\n \n 126 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 126\n \n Flash of Buck in storm.\n \n", "rad stares at the water in his hands\n \n 104 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 104\n \n CONRAD\n Let it out!\n \n BUCK\n Just keep it starboard!\n \n CONRAD\n I can't!\n \n Boat overturns.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Ahh!\n \n BUCK\n Ahh!\n", "we ever\n came to having a pet. You remember\n Buck asked you, he tried to talk\n you into... getting a dog. Do you\n remember that?\n He said. \"How about it, if it's\n the size of a little football?\"\n \n BETH\n You know. Uh... That animal next\n door, that Pepper or Pippin,\n whatever its name is...\n \n CONRAD\n Pippin. Pippin.", " TEACHER\n Do you think he was powerless in\n the grip of circumstances... or\n could he have helped himself?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't... Uh...Powerless? I guess he\n thought he was, yeah.\n \n JOEL\n The guy was a real jerk. He was\n hung up on what was the moral thing\n to do. It didn't make any sense.\n \n TEACHER\n I think", "down! Get it down!\n \n BUCK\n I can't hold it! Keep it starboard!\n \n 99 INT. KITCHEN ­ NIGHT 99\n \n Conrad stares at himself in the mirror\n \n 100 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 100\n \n CONRAD\n Get the sail down! Get it down!\n \n BUCK\n Keep it starboard!\n ", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n" ], [ "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "\n \n Calvin sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n Maybe it wasn't even Buck.\n Maybe it was just you.\n Maybe, finally, it was the best\n of you that you buried.\n (MORE)\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 123.\n 156 CONTINUED: 156\n CALVIN", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 112 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 112\n \n BUCK\n Just don't let go!\n \n CONRAD\n I won't, honest to God!\n \n BUCK\n Everything gonna be okay!\n \n 105.\n \n \n \n 113 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 113\n ", " 107\n \n Conrad rushes downstairs with his coat.\n \n 108 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 108\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n BUCK\n Give me your hand!\n \n CONRAD\n Here!\n \n 109 EXT. HOUSE ­ NIGHT 109\n \n Conrad rushes out of the house.\n \n ", "17\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 118 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 118\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 119 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 119\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 120 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 120\n \n Con", "there's no\n godamm point!\n \n DR BERGER\n Point? What point? It happened!\n \n CONRAD\n No, no... Oh, no. I don't mean\n that. It's that... It's just\n that... Buck, Bucky, I didn't mean\n it!\n \n 126 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 126\n \n Flash of Buck in storm.\n \n", "you say ...\n \n 110.\n \n \n \n 136 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 136\n \n Flash of Conrad holding Buck's hand.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n \"Hang on!\"...\n \n \n 137 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 137\n \n CONRAD\n ...\"Hang on!\", and then you let\n", "is standing, telling his story.\n \n BUCK\n Oh anyway, Mary Ann Ramon started\n to just scream, just cry, right?\n It was crazy. We got so drunk\n that we couldn't talk to each\n other. It was the last day... the\n last day of school.\n \n A younger Conrad, sitting aside, is listening too, amused.\n \n BUCK (cont'd)\n We walked out of the building in\n the middle of", "rad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n 121 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 121\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 106.\n \n \n \n 122 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 122\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n", "'t...\n His mother doesn't show him a\n great deal of affection. I'm not\n trying to put her down in any way\n at all. She is a wonderful woman,\n huh...\n \n DR BERGER\n Did she give Buck much affection to\n ...Buck?\n \n CALVIN\n Oh, god, yes, she loved Buck!\n Bucky got so much... I think what\n she felt for him was special. You", "we ever\n came to having a pet. You remember\n Buck asked you, he tried to talk\n you into... getting a dog. Do you\n remember that?\n He said. \"How about it, if it's\n the size of a little football?\"\n \n BETH\n You know. Uh... That animal next\n door, that Pepper or Pippin,\n whatever its name is...\n \n CONRAD\n Pippin. Pippin.", "­ NIGHT 134\n \n Flash of Conrad giving Buck a hand over the overturned hull\n of the boat.\n \n CONRAD\n And I'm supposed to take care of\n it!\n \n \n 135 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 135\n \n DR BERGER\n And that wasn't fair, was it?\n \n CONRAD\n No! And then", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", " BETH\n Did she die in Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n I guess so. Why?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 25.\n 36 CONTINUED: 36\n \n \n BETH\n You said she was always traveling.\n I just... wondered if she died in\n Idaho.\n \n CALVIN\n ", "me! Stay with me!\n Stay with me! Bucky! Where are\n you?\n \n Buck disappears into water.\n \n 115 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 115\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 116 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 116\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 117 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 1", "rad stares at the water in his hands\n \n 104 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 104\n \n CONRAD\n Let it out!\n \n BUCK\n Just keep it starboard!\n \n CONRAD\n I can't!\n \n Boat overturns.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Ahh!\n \n BUCK\n Ahh!\n", "would have come if Buck was\n in the hospital!\n \n BETH\n Buck never would've been in the\n hospital!\n \n Conrad takes his head between his hands and runs upstairs.\n \n CALVIN\n That's enough! That is enough!\n \n BETH\n I won't do it again. I really won't\n do it.\n \n CALVIN\n What in hell has happened?\n \n ", "\n CALVIN\n We would've been all right, if\n there hadn't been any ...mess.\n But you can't handle mess.\n You need everything neat and\n ...easy.\n I don't know. Maybe you can't\n love anybody. It was so much\n Buck. And Buck died, it was as if\n you buried all your love with\n him, and I don't understand that.\n I just don't know.", "sometimes.\n \n CONRAD\n I'm not disappointed.\n I love you.\n \n Calvin looks at him, cries and takes him in his arms.\n \n CALVIN\n I love you too.\n \n They hug each other.\n \n [ Camera pulls back / Canon in D by Pachelbel ]\n \n Credits roll.\n \n \n THE END\n \n " ], [ "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "\n \n Calvin sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n Maybe it wasn't even Buck.\n Maybe it was just you.\n Maybe, finally, it was the best\n of you that you buried.\n (MORE)\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 123.\n 156 CONTINUED: 156\n CALVIN", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 112 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 112\n \n BUCK\n Just don't let go!\n \n CONRAD\n I won't, honest to God!\n \n BUCK\n Everything gonna be okay!\n \n 105.\n \n \n \n 113 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 113\n ", " 107\n \n Conrad rushes downstairs with his coat.\n \n 108 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 108\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n BUCK\n Give me your hand!\n \n CONRAD\n Here!\n \n 109 EXT. HOUSE ­ NIGHT 109\n \n Conrad rushes out of the house.\n \n ", "is standing, telling his story.\n \n BUCK\n Oh anyway, Mary Ann Ramon started\n to just scream, just cry, right?\n It was crazy. We got so drunk\n that we couldn't talk to each\n other. It was the last day... the\n last day of school.\n \n A younger Conrad, sitting aside, is listening too, amused.\n \n BUCK (cont'd)\n We walked out of the building in\n the middle of", "17\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 118 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 118\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 119 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 119\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 120 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 120\n \n Con", "rad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n 121 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 121\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 106.\n \n \n \n 122 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 122\n \n Conrad holds on firmly to keel of boat\n \n CONRAD\n Buck!\n \n", "there's no\n godamm point!\n \n DR BERGER\n Point? What point? It happened!\n \n CONRAD\n No, no... Oh, no. I don't mean\n that. It's that... It's just\n that... Buck, Bucky, I didn't mean\n it!\n \n 126 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 126\n \n Flash of Buck in storm.\n \n", "you say ...\n \n 110.\n \n \n \n 136 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 136\n \n Flash of Conrad holding Buck's hand.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n \"Hang on!\"...\n \n \n 137 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 137\n \n CONRAD\n ...\"Hang on!\", and then you let\n", "me! Stay with me!\n Stay with me! Bucky! Where are\n you?\n \n Buck disappears into water.\n \n 115 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 115\n \n Conrad rushes.\n \n 116 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 116\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 117 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 1", "­ NIGHT 134\n \n Flash of Conrad giving Buck a hand over the overturned hull\n of the boat.\n \n CONRAD\n And I'm supposed to take care of\n it!\n \n \n 135 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 135\n \n DR BERGER\n And that wasn't fair, was it?\n \n CONRAD\n No! And then", "\n CALVIN\n We would've been all right, if\n there hadn't been any ...mess.\n But you can't handle mess.\n You need everything neat and\n ...easy.\n I don't know. Maybe you can't\n love anybody. It was so much\n Buck. And Buck died, it was as if\n you buried all your love with\n him, and I don't understand that.\n I just don't know.", "CONTINUED)\n \n 87.\n 78 CONTINUED: 78\n \n \n CALVIN\n Could we talk about Buck's funeral?\n \n BETH\n What?\n \n CALVIN\n I know it'll seem trivial, but it's\n on my mind, or has been, and I'd\n just like to talk about it.\n \n BETH", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "'t...\n His mother doesn't show him a\n great deal of affection. I'm not\n trying to put her down in any way\n at all. She is a wonderful woman,\n huh...\n \n DR BERGER\n Did she give Buck much affection to\n ...Buck?\n \n CALVIN\n Oh, god, yes, she loved Buck!\n Bucky got so much... I think what\n she felt for him was special. You", " BETH\n Did she die in Idaho?\n \n CALVIN\n I guess so. Why?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 25.\n 36 CONTINUED: 36\n \n \n BETH\n You said she was always traveling.\n I just... wondered if she died in\n Idaho.\n \n CALVIN\n ", "would have come if Buck was\n in the hospital!\n \n BETH\n Buck never would've been in the\n hospital!\n \n Conrad takes his head between his hands and runs upstairs.\n \n CALVIN\n That's enough! That is enough!\n \n BETH\n I won't do it again. I really won't\n do it.\n \n CALVIN\n What in hell has happened?\n \n ", "rad stares at the water in his hands\n \n 104 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 104\n \n CONRAD\n Let it out!\n \n BUCK\n Just keep it starboard!\n \n CONRAD\n I can't!\n \n Boat overturns.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Ahh!\n \n BUCK\n Ahh!\n", "110 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 110\n \n The boys are holding each other's hands over the overturned\n boat's hull.\n \n BUCK\n We screwed up this time, Buddy!\n Dad's gonna haul ass over this!\n \n CONRAD\n It ain't so goddamned funny!\n \n 111 EXT. STREET ­ NIGHT 111\n " ], [ "Jarrett?\n \n Conrad nods.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come in. Sit down.\n \n Dr Berger is fixing an amplifier\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n I just have to... wire some...\n volume.\n \n Music suddenly blares. Dr Berger stops it.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Ah... sorry. Sit down! You've had\n ", "while and stares. Then goes inside.\n \n 54 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. DINING ROOM ­ DAY 54\n \n Conrad enters hesitantly, back from garden. Beth is busy\n dressing up the table.\n \n CONRAD\n Can I help?\n \n BETH\n Help what? Oh, you mean with this?\n No.\n \n CONRAD\n I will.\n \n ", "you.\n Jarrett.\n \n Lazenby walks away to the others, waiting. They leave.\n \n STILLMAN\n Ooh! Ohh!\n \n LAZENBY\n Shut up. Leave it alone.\n \n STILLMAN\n I told you. The guy's a flake.\n \n They laugh. Conrad, angry with himself, slams his locker's\n door.\n \n \n 66 INT. DR B", "ll play some touch\n football on the lawn.\n \n CONRAD\n See you later.\n \n Exit Conrad. Calvin resumes eating, reflects, then :\n \n CALVIN\n Con!\n \n But his son is gone.\n \n 12.\n \n \n \n 19 EXT. JARRETT'S HOME ­ MORNING 19\n \n Calvin walks up the alley to the street.", "\n \n KAREN\n Hey!\n \n A customer is startled.\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Would you cheer up?\n \n Conrad sits there with a strange feeling of embarrassment,\n reflecting.\n \n \n 53 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. GARDEN ­ DAY 53\n \n From inside, Beth stares outside in the garden where Conrad\n is lying on a chaise lounge. She", "\n BETH\n I don't think he knows what he\n wants to do.\n \n 42 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 42\n \n Beth arrives in alley with car, takes out shopping, enters\n house.\n \n 43 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BEDROOM'S LANDING ­DAY 43\n \n Beth goes upstairs with her shopping, knocks on Conrad's\n door. No", "trouble finding the place?\n \n CONRAD\n Not yet.\n \n Dr Berger gives him a second look. Telephone Rings. Dr\n Berger sits at his desk, looks up file.\n \n DR BERGER\n Hmm.... Jarrett. How long since\n you've been out of the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n A month and a half.\n \n DR BERGER\n Feeling depressed?\n \n CON", "s fair!\n \n In the commuter train Calvin also remembers...\n \n \n 60 INT. JARRETT'S HOME. LANDING ­ NIGHT 60\n \n Calvin knocks violently on Conrad's bedroom door\n \n CALVIN\n Conrad! Conrad!\n \n BETH\n What is it?\n \n \n 61 EXT. JARRETT'S HOME. STREET ­ NIGHT", ", prizes and objects. It's like a\n museum.\n \n 45 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 45\n \n Conrad arrives on foot.\n \n 46 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 46\n \n Beth in Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent, sitting on bed.\n \n Conrad appears at door, Beth is startled.\n \n BETH\n ", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n ", "rett, bye.\n \n BETH\n Good-bye.\n \n Children's laughs. Beth closes the door.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n The Cabbots. Little Julie's first\n time. God, she's so cute!\n \n 40 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­ NIGHT 40\n \n The children run away, laughing.\n \n CHILDREN\n Ha", " CONRAD\n I do?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah. I mean, That's good. My\n name's Jeannine Pratt.\n \n CONRAD\n Nice. Hi!\n \n JEANNINE'S FRIEND\n You're Conrad Jarrett, remember?\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 29.\n 38 CONT", "0 CONTINUED: 90\n \n \n Conrad hits him hard with a jab, then jumps on him. They fall\n in the plastic bags of the disposal, Conrad still hitting.\n Lazenby tries to stop him. Conrad pushes him away. Two\n students take hold of Conrad and pull him away, two others\n with Stillman.\n \n LAZENBY\n Come on! Connie. Come on! Cool it,\n Jarrett! Connie!", "\n From inside, Conrad finally sees his father in the garden,\n reflecting. Patches of snow. Conrad puts on his coat over\n his pyjamas, and joins him.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad?\n \n CALVIN\n The yard looks smaller without\n leaves.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad? What happened?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother's going away for a\n while.\n", " \n Going home on the commuter, Calvin is thoughtful. He\n remembers his sons when they were kids.\n \n \n 59 INT. JARRETT'S DINING ROOM - DAY 59\n \n YOUNG CONRAD\n Give me back my sweater! Come on,\n it's my sweater!\n \n YOUNG BUCK\n Possession is nine tenths...\n \n CALVIN\n Hang", " \n CONRAD\n I said I have feelings.\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh! Now you have, now you don't!\n Get it together, Jarrett.\n \n CONRAD\n Why you hassle me? Why are you\n trying to make me mad?\n \n DR BERGER\n Are you mad?\n \n CONRAD\n No!\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh,", "the class!\n \n Conrad laughs. Beth laughs.\n \n BETH\n Oh, Bucky!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n 56 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, DINING ROOM - DAY 56\n \n Beth laughs. Conrad stares at Beth laughing on the phone. The\n gossip gets too funny.\n \n BETH\n No. Stop!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n INT. Dr", "INUED: 38\n \n \n CONRAD\n Right. Hum. Yeah. Um. Bye.\n \n JEANNINE\n Bye-bye.\n \n LAZENBY\n \"You've got a lot of energy.\"\n \n 39 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, ENTRANCE - NIGHT 39\n \n Halloween : Beth opens door with a plate of candied apples\n ready. Outside,", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", "[Horn honks]\n Lazenby's car stops, with music playing. Lazenby is driving,\n Stillman is with him in the front and Dickie van Buren is at\n the back.\n \n LAZENBY\n (to Stillman)\n It's called flake.\n \n Conrad just stands there, waiting.\n \n DICKIE VAN BUREN\n Come on, Jarrett! We're late,\n let's go!\n" ], [ " DR BERGER\n I mean, besides Dr. Crawford?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n 52 INT. RESTAURANT ­ DAY 52\n \n Conrad is sitting, reflecting. A young woman's hand blinds\n him for a second : Karen has arrived.\n \n CONRAD\n Whoa!\n \n KAREN\n Hi!\n \n CONR", " DR BERGER\n For what?\n \n CONRAD\n For what I did!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n What I did to him!\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n It's something... It's something...\n Don't you see? It's gotta be\n somebody's fault or", " DR BERGER\n What time is it?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n Where are you?\n \n CONRAD\n I... I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n All right. Listen to me. Get to the\n office somehow, and I'll meet you\n there.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay.\n \n", "\n Conrad seems lost. Dr Berger is on to something.\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n Come on.\n \n CONRAD\n Come on what?\n \n DR BERGER\n Don't hold back.\n \n Silence\n \n 57 EXT. CITY BUSINESS CENTER ­ DAY 57\n \n Calvin walks with his business partner Ray Hanley (seen at\n the party).\n \n", "worried about you, too?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know, listen. You... You're\n a friend of Dr Crawford, so you're\n probably all right, but I'll be\n straight with you, I don't like\n this already.\n \n DR BERGER\n Well, as long as you're straight.\n \n CONRAD\n What do you know about me? Have\n you talked to Crawford?", " Conrad, kind of terrified, rehearses his meeting Dr. Berger:\n \n CONRAD\n Oh, hi. How are you? /.../ Oh. I'm\n fine /.../ Couldn't be better,\n really. Oh, terrific, yeah.\n \n \n 35 INT. DR. BERGER'S CORRIDOR - DAY 35\n \n Conrad sees « Dr Berger » on a bell. He rings but another\n door opens behind", " DR BERGER\n Because I'm your friend.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 115.\n 149 CONTINUED: 149\n \n \n Conrad is out of breath.\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know what I would've\n done...if you hadn't been here.\n You're really my friend?\n \n DR", " DR BERGER\n Oh, yes! I'm with a patient now.\n Can you call back at two\n fifteen?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't think I'll be free.\n \n DR BERGER\n Then give me your number. I'll call\n you tonite. Hello? Hello?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh, that's OK, I'll try to call you\n back. Thanks.\n ", " Yeah.\n \n DR BERGER\n Friends?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n DR BERGER\n OK?\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n DR BERGER\n Everything...\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 22.\n 35 CONTIN", "t you see\n that?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother doesn't hate you,\n Conrad?\n \n CONRAD\n All right, all right. You're right.\n She doesn't. Please leave me alone,\n now.\n \n Silence. Then Calvin stands up and goes to the door.\n \n CALVIN\n What about this Dr. Berger? Do you\n think he's helping you?\n", " DR BERGER\n You think about it. Just think\n about it.\n \n Silence\n \n CONRAD\n Jesus!\n \n Conrad is out of breath.\n \n 77 EXT. PARK ­ DAY 77\n \n Calvin and Friend are jogging in sportswear. Calvin's friend\n explains a stock market deal he made.\n \n FRIEND\n Say. After going to a new high, it\n", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", "BERGER\n I am. Count on it.\n \n Conrad falls into Dr Berger's arms, crying.\n \n 150 EXT. JEANNINE'S HOME ­ EARLY MORNING 150\n \n Jeannine opens her curtains, sees Conrad, outside her home,\n walking to and fro. She puts on a jacket and comes out to\n him.\n \n CONRAD\n Hi. I was gonna call but I didn", "07.\n 124 CONTINUED: 124\n \n \n Dr Berger fiddles for his keys in the dark to open his\n office's door.\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait, just hold on...\n \n CONRAD\n I need... I need...\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait till we get inside...\n \n Dr Berger finally opens the door. They enter.\n", "\n \n CONRAD\n That's different. He feels\n responsible. Besides, he loves\n everybody.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ho, I get it! The guy's got no\n taste! He loves you, but he's\n wrong.\n Look... maybe she just can't\n express it the way you'd like her\n to. Maybe she's just afraid to\n show you what she feels.\n \n CONR", "DR BERGER\n Ha, ha.\n \n CONRAD\n They're a bunch of boring ass\n jocks.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ha, ha.\n \n CONRAD\n And him... I can't stand him. He's\n a tight ass son of a bitch!\n \n DR BERGER\n Ah, ah?... Have you ever thought\n about quitting?\n \n CONRAD", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", "\n \n DR BERGER\n I don't hold much stock in dreams.\n \n CONRAD\n What kind of a psychiatrist are\n you? They all believe in dreams.\n \n DR BERGER\n Really? What's happening?\n What's going on?\n \n CONRAD\n I just feel... I feel so...\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n ", "'m not.\n \n DR BERGER\n Like to play games, do you?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't!\n \n DR BERGER\n So?\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 61.\n 66 CONTINUED: 66\n \n \n CONRAD\n What do you want?\n \n ", ". BERGER'S OFFICE ­ EVENING\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you expect from her?\n \n CONRAD\n We just don't connect.\n \n DR BERGER\n Why not?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know. We just don't.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 52.\n 56 CONTINUED" ], [ "21.\n 35 CONTINUED: 35\n \n \n CONRAD\n I don't know.\n \n Dr Berger sits at table, looks up another file.\n \n DR BERGER\n How long were you in the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n Four months.\n \n DR BERGER\n What did you do?\n \n CONRAD\n I tried to off myself. Isn", "trouble finding the place?\n \n CONRAD\n Not yet.\n \n Dr Berger gives him a second look. Telephone Rings. Dr\n Berger sits at his desk, looks up file.\n \n DR BERGER\n Hmm.... Jarrett. How long since\n you've been out of the hospital?\n \n CONRAD\n A month and a half.\n \n DR BERGER\n Feeling depressed?\n \n CON", "In his bed Conrad is not sleeping. He hears the door of the\n house close, then someone walking outside on the gravel. He\n gets up, go look out of the window. Ouside, a taxi leaves. He\n goes downstairs.\n \n 159 INT. STAIRS ­ DAWN 159\n \n Conrad goes downstairs, curious. Looks around, sees nobody.\n \n 160 EXT. GARDEN ­ DAWN 160\n ", "the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 147 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE 147\n \n DR BERGER\n Now. You can live with that. Can't\n you?\n \n 148 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 148\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel. Waves.\n \n ", "DR BERGER'S OFFICE 145\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n I hung on. I stayed with the boat.\n \n DR BERGER\n Exactly.\n \n Conrad cries.\n \n 114.\n \n \n \n 146 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 146\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to", "'t it\n down there?\n \n DR BERGER\n It doesn't say what your method\n was.\n \n CONRAD\n Double-edged Super Blue.\n \n DR BERGER\n Oh.\n \n Dr Berger closes file\n \n Dr BERGER (cont'd)\n So how does it feel being home?\n Everybody's glad to see you?\n \n CONRAD\n ", "S OFFICE 143\n \n Conrad stares at Dr Berger.\n \n CONRAD\n Haaa...\n \n DR BERGER\n You know.\n \n 144 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 144\n \n Flash of Conrad clutching to the keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 145 INT.", "\n Conrad cries.\n \n CONRAD\n Something happened!\n \n DR BERGER\n What?\n \n CONRAD\n It's...\n \n DR BERGER\n It's what?\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. God! I need something.\n \n DR BERGER\n What do you need? Tell me!\n \n CONRAD\n It just keeps", "\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 43.\n 51 CONTINUED: 51\n \n \n DR BERGER\n It was? Why?\n \n CONRAD\n Because nobody hid anything there.\n \n DR BERGER\n Was there anyone there you could\n talk to?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n", " CONRAD\n Fuck! Fuck! Ha...\n \n 33 EXT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE BUILDING. STREET. ­ DAY 33\n \n Conrad, sitting on a bench, looks at Dr Berger's office\n windows on the other side of street, hesitating to go. He\n finally crosses the street and enters building.\n \n 34 INT. DR BERGER'S OFFICE BUILDING. LIFT ­ DAY 34\n \n", "\n \n CONRAD\n I've heard this all before.\n \n DR BERGER\n Doesn't make it any less true.\n \n CONRAD\n I'm so tired.\n \n DR BERGER\n Yeah, well... that's a hell of a\n secret you've been keeping on\n yourself.\n \n CONRAD\n So what do I do now?\n \n \n \n \n", "07.\n 124 CONTINUED: 124\n \n \n Dr Berger fiddles for his keys in the dark to open his\n office's door.\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait, just hold on...\n \n CONRAD\n I need... I need...\n \n DR BERGER\n Just wait till we get inside...\n \n Dr Berger finally opens the door. They enter.\n", "I don't remember\n really.\n \n JEANNINE\n You don't want to talk about it?\n \n CONRAD\n Ah, I don't know... I've never\n really talked about it.\n To doctors, but not to anyone else.\n You're the first who's asked.\n \n JEANNINE\n Why did you do it?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh... I don", "\n From inside, Conrad finally sees his father in the garden,\n reflecting. Patches of snow. Conrad puts on his coat over\n his pyjamas, and joins him.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad?\n \n CALVIN\n The yard looks smaller without\n leaves.\n \n CONRAD\n Dad? What happened?\n \n CALVIN\n Your mother's going away for a\n while.\n", " DR BERGER\n What time is it?\n \n CONRAD\n I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n Where are you?\n \n CONRAD\n I... I don't know!\n \n DR BERGER\n All right. Listen to me. Get to the\n office somehow, and I'll meet you\n there.\n \n CONRAD\n Okay.\n \n", " \n 104.\n \n \n \n 105 INT. STAIRS ­ NIGHT 105\n \n Conrad rushes downstairs with his coat.\n \n 106 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 106\n \n Conrad comes out from underwater, taking air in.\n \n CONRAD\n Aaah!\n \n 107 INT. STAIRS ­ NIGHT ", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", " 31\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare\n \n EXT. STORM on LAKE - NIGHT (NIGHTMARE)\n \n Conrad is clingin at the keel of the overturned sailboat\n \n CONRAD\n Bucky!\n \n 32 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT 32\n \n Conrad is twisting in his bed under his nightmare and\n muttering in his sleep.\n \n ", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "OFFICE 141\n \n DR BERGER\n You know.\n \n Conrad looks at him and cries and sighs.\n \n 142 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 142\n \n Flash of Conrad getting back on hull and clutching to the\n keel.\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Haaa...\n \n \n 143 INT. DR BERGER'" ], [ " called. This is Conrad. Calling.\n Just tell her I called and I'm\n feeling great, and I just wanted\n to talk to her.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Yes. I will.\n \n CONRAD\n OK. Thank you.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Good bye.\n \n Conrad walks nervously around to and fro for a while then\n looks up into directory. He finds Je", " \n CONRAD\n Yeah, yeah, I... you're sure right.\n \n Pause\n \n KAREN\n I really have to go. I'm sorry. I\n have a meeting over at the school.\n Drama Club meeting. We're doing \"A\n Thousand Clowns\".\n \n CONRAD\n I know, you told me.\n \n KAREN\n Did I?\n \n ", ".\n \n CALVIN\n What was her name?\n \n CONRAD\n Karen.\n \n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 18.\n 27 CONTINUED: 27\n \n \n CALVIN\n Sharon?\n \n CONRAD\n Karen!\n \n CALVIN\n Karen.\n", " CONRAD\n Yeah...\n \n KAREN\n You mean it?\n \n CONRAD\n Yep!\n \n KAREN\n You. Uh... You look good. Conrad.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n KAREN\n Bye.\n \n CONRAD\n Bye-bye.\n \n She leaves. Then stops a few steps away, and shouts :", "\n \n KAREN\n Hey!\n \n A customer is startled.\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Would you cheer up?\n \n Conrad sits there with a strange feeling of embarrassment,\n reflecting.\n \n \n 53 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. GARDEN ­ DAY 53\n \n From inside, Beth stares outside in the garden where Conrad\n is lying on a chaise lounge. She", " KAREN'S FATHER (OS)\n Hello.\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 102.\n 94 CONTINUED: 94\n \n \n CONRAD\n Yes, hello. Is Karen there? This is\n Conrad Jarrett, calling. I'm a\n friend of hers.\n \n KAREN'S FATHER CONR", " \n KAREN\n God...\n \n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 44.\n 52 CONTINUED: 52\n \n \n CONRAD\n It's great to see you.\n \n KAREN\n Oh, you too. Listen. I am not gonna\n be able to stay a real long time.\n I've got a meeting over at school.", " DR BERGER\n I mean, besides Dr. Crawford?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh.\n \n 52 INT. RESTAURANT ­ DAY 52\n \n Conrad is sitting, reflecting. A young woman's hand blinds\n him for a second : Karen has arrived.\n \n CONRAD\n Whoa!\n \n KAREN\n Hi!\n \n CONR", "AD\n Karen's... I called...\n \n KAREN'S FATHER\n Karen's dead.\n \n CONRAD\n What? What?\n \n KAREN'S FATHER\n She killed herself.\n \n Karen's father hangs up. Conrad suffocates under the shock.\n He hears Karen's voice.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n Let's have the best Christmas", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 71.\n 73 CONTINUED: 73\n \n \n CONRAD\n It's a friend of hers from\n Hillsboro?\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Oh... Well, she's ...not home from\n school yet.\n \n CONRAD\n Oh. Um...Hmm. Just tell her I\n ", "CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n KAREN\n I better hurry. Don't wanna be\n late.\n \n CONRAD\n Thanks for seeing me.\n \n He clears his throat.\n \n KAREN\n Conrad? Let's have a great\n Christmas! Okay? Let's have... a\n great year. Let's have the best\n year of our whole lives, OK? We\n can, you know. This", "in a low voice.\n \n CONRAD\n Alleluia!\n \n He browses quickly through a pocket book, finds the piece of\n paper inserted in it, picks up phone and dials the number\n written on the paper\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Hello?\n \n CONRAD\n Hello. Is Karen there?\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER\n Who's calling, please?\n \n \n \n", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "AD\n Hey, Karen! Hi! How are you?\n \n KAREN\n Good. Real good.\n \n CONRAD\n Sit down. Please.\n \n KAREN\n Thank you.\n \n CONRAD\n Wow.\n \n Long Pause. They laugh.\n \n KAREN\n When did you get back?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh... The end of August.\n", " You really look beautiful.\n \n KAREN\n So do you.\n \n CONRAD\n Do you miss it?\n \n KAREN\n Miss what?\n \n CONRAD\n The hospital.\n \n KAREN\n No.\n \n Waiter brings two cokes\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Thank you.\n \n CONRAD\n You don", "\n \n CONRAD\n That's different. He feels\n responsible. Besides, he loves\n everybody.\n \n DR BERGER\n Ho, I get it! The guy's got no\n taste! He loves you, but he's\n wrong.\n Look... maybe she just can't\n express it the way you'd like her\n to. Maybe she's just afraid to\n show you what she feels.\n \n CONR", "? Explain it to me.\n \n CONRAD\n Ha! I can't! Everything is German\n pudding with you , dad. You don't\n see things!\n \n CALVIN\n What things?\n \n Conrad sighs.\n \n CALVIN (cont'd)\n What things? Please, I want you to\n tell me.\n \n CONRAD\n That she hates me! Can'", "to...\n \n 94 INT. KITCHEN ­ NIGHT 94\n \n Conrad enters the kitchen, takes something in the fridge,\n goes to the phone to make a call. He dials.\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER (OS)\n Hello?\n \n CONRAD\n Hello. Is Karen there?\n \n KAREN'S MOTHER (OS)\n She...uh... Ah!... Bill?\n \n", "swimming? Terrific,\n Conrad! That's... That's really\n wonderful.\n \n CONRAD\n We haven't had any meets yet. I\n could end up on the bench all year,\n but...\n \n KAREN\n Come on, you'll do great. I'll bet\n your folks are real proud of you.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah, yeah.\n \n WAITER\n What can", " \n CONRAD\n I thought it'd get to you. I've\n been working on it all day.\n \n Jeannine laughs, then:\n \n JEANNINE\n Do you think people are punished\n for the things they do?\n \n CONRAD\n You mean by God?\n \n JEANNINE\n Yeah.\n \n CONRAD\n Mmm, I don't believe" ], [ "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 86.\n 77 CONTINUED: 77\n \n \n CALVIN\n Mmm. She's very... No. There's no\n problem with her for me. We've\n been... We've been married nearly\n twenty one years. Everybody loves\n Beth. But, huh... for Conrad, -\n it's been difficult. He", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 50.\n 53 CONTINUED: 53\n \n \n CONRAD\n (he barks)\n Arf! Arf! Arf!\n \n Beth stops in her tracks, startled, but doesn't show it.\n \n BETH\n Put that on if you're gonna stay\n out here, okay?\n \n Conrad stays alone a", "comes out.\n \n BETH\n It's cold out here. You should put\n that on, or do you want a sweater?\n \n CONRAD\n Do I need one?\n \n Beth is taken off guard by Conrad's reaction, doesn't know\n what to do.\n \n BETH\n What are you doing?\n \n CONRAD\n Nothing. Thinking.\n \n \n \n (CONTIN", "while and stares. Then goes inside.\n \n 54 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. DINING ROOM ­ DAY 54\n \n Conrad enters hesitantly, back from garden. Beth is busy\n dressing up the table.\n \n CONRAD\n Can I help?\n \n BETH\n Help what? Oh, you mean with this?\n No.\n \n CONRAD\n I will.\n \n ", " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", "\n BETH\n I don't think he knows what he\n wants to do.\n \n 42 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 42\n \n Beth arrives in alley with car, takes out shopping, enters\n house.\n \n 43 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BEDROOM'S LANDING ­DAY 43\n \n Beth goes upstairs with her shopping, knocks on Conrad's\n door. No", "shuts off bedside lamp. Then kisses Beth. They\n embrace.\n \n 10 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 10\n \n Beth prepares the breakfast table geometrically (CU).\n \n 11 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ MORNING 11\n \n Conrad's lies on his bed, fully dressed, full awake,\n thinking.\n \n BETH\n (OS, IN THE KITCHEN", " 61\n \n Conrad is taken away on a stretcher into an ambulance.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN\n Watch your back. Cuts are vertical.\n He really meant business.\n \n WS on Beth, hand on mouth, astonished. Beth and Conrad have\n overheard.\n \n AMBULANCE MAN (cont'd)\n Let's go.\n \n 62 INT. COMMUTER TRAIN ­ NIGHT ", "INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ MORNING 15\n \n Conrad's sitting on his bed.\n \n CALVIN\n (OS, downstairs)\n (to Beth)\n Will you drop those suits at the\n cleaners for me?\n \n BETH\n They won't be back by Saturday.\n \n 16 INT. KITCHEN ­ MORNING 16\n \n Beth still preparing", " hurt me. Isn't it?\n \n CONRAD\n Don't you have that backwards?\n \n BETH\n Oh? And how do I hurt you? By\n embarrassing you in front of a\n friend? Poor Beth! She has no idea\n what her son is up to! He lies and\n she believes every word of it.\n \n CONRAD\n I didn't lie!\n \n BETH\n You did!", ", prizes and objects. It's like a\n museum.\n \n 45 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 45\n \n Conrad arrives on foot.\n \n 46 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 46\n \n Beth in Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent, sitting on bed.\n \n Conrad appears at door, Beth is startled.\n \n BETH\n ", " \n CONRAD\n (shouts)\n GIVE-HER-THE-GODDAMN-CAMERA!\n \n Calvin is startled. Conrad sits in an armchair. Calvin hands\n the camera to Beth. They exchange places.\n \n BETH\n Smile.\n \n Beth takes a photo of Calvin.\n \n BETH (cont'd)\n Who's hungry? I'll make the\n sandwiches.\n", "BETH\n (casually)\n No, I tell you what you can do\n though. You can go upstairs to that\n room of yours and clean out the\n closet.\n \n CONRAD\n Mom...\n \n BETH\n Okay? Because it really is a mess.\n \n They stand there, facing each other, uptight. The telephone\n rings. Beth goes over to it, picks it up, seems suddenly\n delighted.\n \n BETH", "the class!\n \n Conrad laughs. Beth laughs.\n \n BETH\n Oh, Bucky!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n 56 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, DINING ROOM - DAY 56\n \n Beth laughs. Conrad stares at Beth laughing on the phone. The\n gossip gets too funny.\n \n BETH\n No. Stop!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n INT. Dr", "and close.\n \n Beth goes upstairs and directly into her bedroom. Calvin\n notices this, then notices the light under his son's bedroom\n door. He knocks.\n \n \n 8 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 8\n \n Conrad is lying on his stomach, on his bed, thinking. He\n composes himself, grabs his book as if he had been reading.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah?\n \n \n ", " \n BETH\n Oh... No, no. No. Thanks.\n \n 81 INT. MALL DINER ­ DAY 81\n \n Beth and Conrad are having lunch at a table in the diner.\n Beth is summing up the birthday presents she bought.\n \n BETH\n We've got Bennett's, and Grant's\n and Foley's. Ha, Conrad should get\n something for my mother and father.\n He", " How'd it go?\n \n CONRAD\n Good. I swam well, today.\n \n BETH\n Good.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n Personaly I think I could swim\n the 50 if my timing got...\n \n He leans back against a wardrobe. Beth sees it.\n \n BETH\n Off.\n \n CONRAD\n ...my timing got better.\n " ], [ "I hope your grandmother wasn't too\n tough on you?\n \n CONRAD\n No. She was fine. I'm glad you're\n back.\n \n Conrad gives his mother a hug, but she is like made of stone.\n Calvin sees it.\n \n CONRAD (cont'd)\n Good night.\n \n Beth remains transfixed as if she didn't know what it was all\n about. Calvin sees it.\n \n ", ", prizes and objects. It's like a\n museum.\n \n 45 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE ­DAY 45\n \n Conrad arrives on foot.\n \n 46 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 46\n \n Beth in Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent, sitting on bed.\n \n Conrad appears at door, Beth is startled.\n \n BETH\n ", " (CONTINUED)\n \n 50.\n 53 CONTINUED: 53\n \n \n CONRAD\n (he barks)\n Arf! Arf! Arf!\n \n Beth stops in her tracks, startled, but doesn't show it.\n \n BETH\n Put that on if you're gonna stay\n out here, okay?\n \n Conrad stays alone a", " BETH (cont'd)\n I have already talked to Mother\n about it, and Conrad can stay with\n them. Please don't worry about it.\n Please, for his sake, don't indulge\n him. We need time together. Okay?\n \n CALVIN\n Okay. Okay.\n \n Beth takes his hand but it seems almost like a handshake.\n \n BETH\n I love you.\n \n CALVIN", "and talk at the hospital, but we're\n not at the hospital now.\n \n CONRAD\n You never came to the hospital!\n \n CALVIN\n How do you know she never came?\n You know she came but she had the\n flu and couldn't come inside, but\n she came.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah! She wouldn't have had any flu\n if Buck was in the hospital!\n She", "from Calvin, as in a void. She sighs, closes\n her eyes; Calvin turns away from the window, looks at Beth\n and remembers...\n \n When they were happily dancing... [ to and fro twice]\n \n Calvin in his plane seat, reflects.\n \n \n 153 INT. LIVING ROOM ­ NIGHT 153\n \n Beth checks a pile of mail. Conrad comes in.\n \n CONRAD\n I", "Conrad has rushed into the bathroom where he ends up sitting\n on the toilet and grabbing the washbowl, out of breath under\n the shock.\n \n KAREN\n (OS)\n We could have the best year of our\n whole lives.\n \n Conrad opens tap, water flows.\n \n 98 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 98\n \n [Flashback to the boat accident on the lake] Conrad yells at\n Buck (who is holding", "\n Conrad rushes.\n \n 114 EXT. LAKE ­ NIGHT 114\n \n BUCK\n Hang on. Brother!\n \n But Buck's wet hand slips away. Buck tries to gain hold on\n the curved slippery surface of the hull, but he can't make it\n and disappears into the water, while Conrad manages somehow\n to hold on.\n \n CONRAD\n Stay with", "\n You've been apologizing to him ever\n since he came home from the\n hospital. And you just don't see\n that!\n \n CONRAD\n (OS)\n Tell her to stop it! You never tell\n her a godamn thing!\n \n BETH\n (OS)\n Buck never would have been in the\n hospital!\n \n \n (CONTINUED)\n \n ", "turns away and goes\n upstairs.\n \n 157 INT. BEDROOM ­ NIGHT 157\n \n Beth enters, kind of reflects, then goes open a closet, takes\n out some luggage. A sudden burst of emotion overcomes her,\n she cries but does not seem to identify the emotion, then\n restrains it.\n \n \n 158 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ DAWN 158\n \n ", " BETH\n No, I mean, ...for the year it's\n colder.\n \n CONRAD\n Yeah.\n \n Beth leaves Buck's bedroom.\n \n 47 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, LANDING ­DAY 47\n \n BETH\n Weren't you swimming today?\n \n CONRAD\n Uh-huh. Sorry I scared you.\n \n BETH\n", "while and stares. Then goes inside.\n \n 54 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. DINING ROOM ­ DAY 54\n \n Conrad enters hesitantly, back from garden. Beth is busy\n dressing up the table.\n \n CONRAD\n Can I help?\n \n BETH\n Help what? Oh, you mean with this?\n No.\n \n CONRAD\n I will.\n \n ", " \n (CONTINUED)\n \n 86.\n 77 CONTINUED: 77\n \n \n CALVIN\n Mmm. She's very... No. There's no\n problem with her for me. We've\n been... We've been married nearly\n twenty one years. Everybody loves\n Beth. But, huh... for Conrad, -\n it's been difficult. He", "answer. She enters in an authoritarian way, then\n comes out and closes the door. She then goes to the next door\n on the landing (Buck's bedroom), stops in front of it. She\n hesitates, then enters.\n \n 44 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, BUCK'S BEDROOM ­DAY 44\n \n Beth slowly enters Buck's abandoned bedroom, all silent.\n Everything has stayed like it was. Beth looks around, sits on\n bed. Stares at photos", "would have come if Buck was\n in the hospital!\n \n BETH\n Buck never would've been in the\n hospital!\n \n Conrad takes his head between his hands and runs upstairs.\n \n CALVIN\n That's enough! That is enough!\n \n BETH\n I won't do it again. I really won't\n do it.\n \n CALVIN\n What in hell has happened?\n \n ", "comes out.\n \n BETH\n It's cold out here. You should put\n that on, or do you want a sweater?\n \n CONRAD\n Do I need one?\n \n Beth is taken off guard by Conrad's reaction, doesn't know\n what to do.\n \n BETH\n What are you doing?\n \n CONRAD\n Nothing. Thinking.\n \n \n \n (CONTIN", "the class!\n \n Conrad laughs. Beth laughs.\n \n BETH\n Oh, Bucky!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n 56 INT. JARRETT'S HOUSE, DINING ROOM - DAY 56\n \n Beth laughs. Conrad stares at Beth laughing on the phone. The\n gossip gets too funny.\n \n BETH\n No. Stop!\n \n Beth laughs.\n \n INT. Dr", "we ever\n came to having a pet. You remember\n Buck asked you, he tried to talk\n you into... getting a dog. Do you\n remember that?\n He said. \"How about it, if it's\n the size of a little football?\"\n \n BETH\n You know. Uh... That animal next\n door, that Pepper or Pippin,\n whatever its name is...\n \n CONRAD\n Pippin. Pippin.", " Don't talk to me that way. Don't\n you talk to me the way he talks to\n you!\n \n CALVIN\n Beth. Let's not fight. Okay? No\n fighting. Okay? Please. Let's go\n upstairs.\n \n Calvin goes, but Beth doesn't, and turns away.\n \n \n 76 INT. CONRAD'S BEDROOM ­ EVENING 76\n \n Calvin enters Con", "\n \n KAREN\n Hey!\n \n A customer is startled.\n \n KAREN (cont'd)\n Would you cheer up?\n \n Conrad sits there with a strange feeling of embarrassment,\n reflecting.\n \n \n 53 EXT. JARRETT'S HOUSE. GARDEN ­ DAY 53\n \n From inside, Beth stares outside in the garden where Conrad\n is lying on a chaise lounge. She" ] ]

[ "Who was on the boat with Buck when he was killed?", "Who is Dr. Berger?", "Where has Conrad been for the past four months?", "Why does Conrad become mad at Beth on Christmas?", "Who is Jeannine?", "Where do Beth and Calvin go to visit Beth's brother?", "Who is Beth in relationship to Conrad?", "What happens to Beth at the end of the story?", "What kind of a setback does Conrad suffer?", "How long Conrad stay in psychiatric hospital?", "What is Conrad's father name?", "What is Conrad's Mother name?", "Whom did Conrad work with to control his emotions?", "Where did Jarrett's family live?", "Who was Conrad dating with?", "Who is involved with Bucks sailing accident?", "Whom did Beth and Calvin meet in Houston?", "How did Karen die in psychiatric hospital?", "What is Conrad's relationship to Buck?", "How did Buck die?", "Who was with Buck when Buck died?", "Where does Conrad Jarrett's family live?", "What is Dr.Berger's relationship to Conrad?", "Where has Conrad been staying since attempting suicide?", "What is Karen's relationship to Conrad?", "What is Beth's relationship to Conrad?", "How does Beth treat Conrad since Buck's death?" ]

[ [ "Conrad", "conrad " ], [ "Conrad's psychiatrist", "A psychiatrist Conrad is seeing." ], [ "In a psychiatric hospital", "psychiatric hospital" ], [ "She won't take a picture with him", "Beth does not want to take a picture with Conrad." ], [ "Conrad's girlfriend", "She is a fellow student Conrad is dating." ], [ "Houston", "To Houston. " ], [ "She is his mother", "She is his mother" ], [ "She leaves her family", "She flees from her family" ], [ "He learns his friend committed suicide", "emotional " ], [ "Four month.", "4 months" ], [ "Calvin (Donald Sutherland).", "Calvin" ], [ "Beth (Mary Tyler Moore).", "Beth" ], [ "Dr. Berger.", "Dr. Berger" ], [ "Sub Urban Chicago.", "Chicago" ], [ "He was dating with his fellow student Jeannine (Elizabeth McGovern).", "Jeannine" ], [ "Conrad.", "Conrad and Buck" ], [ "Beth's brother.", "Beth's brother. " ], [ "He commided suicide.", "committed suicide" ], [ "Conrad is Buck's brother.", "He is Buck's brother." ], [ "In a sailing accident.", "sailing accident " ], [ "Conrad.", "Conrad was with him. " ], [ "Suburban Chicago.", "suburban Chicago" ], [ "Dr. Berger is Conrad's therapist.", "Conrad's psychiatrist " ], [ "A psychiatric hospital.", "A phsychiatric hospital. " ], [ "Karen is Conrad's friend.", "friend from the hospital" ], [ "Beth is Conrad's mother.", "Mother to Conrad." ], [ "Beth is cold and distant towards Conrad.", "She is cold toward him. " ] ]

[ [ ".\n\n Frizzy turns to find Cates standing beside her. He nudges her\n aside. Starts going throught the register book.\n\n FRIZZY\n Aw, come on, what the shit is this?\n\n ALGREN\n We're looking for a guy going\n under the name Polson...\n\n Frizzy sits back down in defeat.\n\n FRIZZY\n Okay, big deal. Get it over with.\n\n Cates finds the", "akes the photograph back from Billy and slips it into his\n jacket pocket...\n\n GANZ\n Walden Hotel. Third near Broadway.\n Tell them to ask for ... uh...\n\n He takes the hot credit cards out of his pocket, the name\n embossed on the plastic..\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n G.P. Polson...P.O.L.S.O.N....Just\n be a couple of hours.\n\n Hangs up. The", "-looking bureaucrat named BOB.\n\n CATES\n Let me borrow your pen, Bob.\n\n Handed over by Bob.\n\n BOB\n You going to use your own name?\n\n CATES\n Shit, no.\n\n CANDY\n\n He begins signing the documents.\n\n BOB\n Jack, just remember one thing. If\n all this comes down, you don't\n know me. I'm", "A\n Gimme a break, huh? ... Look, I\n got there. He was a trick just\n like any other for all I knew.\n That's all there is. He didn't\n feel like sitting and talking. He\n was in a big hurry to get laid.\n I was with him about an hour...\n\n Cates has gotten interested in the last part of this ...\n drifts toward her... A DETECTIVE comes through, begins\n distributing I.B.M", "\n Uhh ... Wong, Henry Wong. He was\n in on the same job.\n\n Cates spins the file around so that both Ruth an Kehoe can\n see it, throws the forensic shots down beside it.\n\n CATES\n Tell me that's not the same guy.\n\n KEHOE\n Hey ... Dick Tracy.\n\n RUTH\n Did Ganz have a grudge against his\n old friends?\n\n H", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", "She matches Ganz's earlier requirements.Smoking a cigarette,\n staring at the ceiling. Ganz remains on top of the blanket.\n Still in his shirt and pants watching TV. Three sharp knocks\n at the door. Ganz reacts as if he's received an electric\n shock. His hand goes under the pillow... Comes up with an\n automatic. Shoves it hard into Lisa's stomach.\n\n LISA\n Hey...\n\n GANZ\n Shut up.\n\n LIS", "\n One of Polson's cards rented that\n green coupe.\n\n VANZANT\n Not too much for a big rough tough\n gunfighter like you to do on this\n one...\n\n Cates smiles at the verbal positioning he's used to with his\n colleagues.\n\n CATES\n Suspect packed or is this a\n laugher?\n\n ALGREN\n Five and dime stuff. Polson said\n ", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "...\n\n RUTH\n This'll interest you, Jack...we've\n got something here from your\n gun... and these are from the\n first weapon Ganz used...\n\n CATES\n I don't get it.\n\n RUTH\n Here.\n\n CATES\n\n She turns, produces the third photo. Pins it beside the one\n from the Walden Hotel.\n\n RUTH\n A perfect", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "the woman\n across the head with the gun. Her body slumps to the floor.\n Police sirens can be heard in the distance. Cates makes an\n attempt for Algren's gun. A bullet splatters against the\n floor only inches from his outstretched fingers. The gun\n skitters out of reach.\n\n CATES\n You lying son of a bitch...\n\n GANZ\n What are you talking about? We\n didn't kill her ...\n\n Ganz smiles.", "REET\n\n Cates driving the convertible; he comes down a hill and turns\n toward the East Bay...\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n GOLDEN GATE PARK - MORNING\n\n Henry Wong, seated on a park bench. Now very dead, a bullet\n hole in the middle of his forehead. Billy Bear is seated next\n to him on the bench reading the race form.\n\n GANZ\n\n Using the telephone at an outdoor booth a few feet beyond the\n bench.\n\n STREET - BRO", " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are", "\n\n CATES\n Shit.\n\n Kehoe next produces several boxes of shells.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n KEHOE\n This cat was real serious about\n his artillery.\n\n An Attendant comes through, hands Kehoe a file. He opens it,\n shows the file to Cates who reads the name under the mug shot.\n\n CATES\n Billy Bear...\n\n KEHOE\n Backup man from the", "East Bay.\n Worked with Ganz a few years ago\n and sprung him from the road gang.\n\n Kehoe opens the second file. Four mug shots are inside.\n\n CATES\n Who are all these?\n\n KEHOE\n They all pulled a bunch of jobs\n with Ganz about four years ago.\n\n CATES\n Wait a minute, wait a minute...\n who's this?\n\n KEHOE", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown", "match for the markings\n from the first gun he used... but\n not from the Walden Hotel... fired\n at least six hours earlier...at\n point blank range... right between\n the eyes. Found him on a park\n bench...\n\n She shows him two more pictures. Police forensics shots of\n Henry Wong ... very dead on the park bench...\n\n RUTH\n (continuing)\n Ya know, there are some very bad\n people out there in the world", ". printouts to Cates, the other nearby\n officers..\n\n DETECTIVE\n We got a print from the hotel\n room. Guy's real name is Ganz,\n Albert Ganz. A hitter from back\n East but he worked out here a few\n years back. Armed robbery. Broke\n out of prison two days ago and\n capped two of the guards. A real\n animal. Wait'll you see this...\n\n\n\n\n\n ", " What gang you talkin' about, Jack?\n\n CATES\n I can read a police file,\n shithead, and quit calling me Jack.\n\n HAMMOND\n Just an expression man, don't mean\n nothin'.\n\n Cates gets behind the wheel and kicks the engine over.\n\n CATES\n I don't give a damn. It happens\n to be my name.\n\n HAMMOND\n Then what" ], [ "cells. They don't know who he is, but they\n can smell a cop. Cates stops at Twenty-two, looks inside...\n a bit startled. Obviously, Reggie Hammond has connections and\n taste. The paint is fresh; there's framed prints on the wall\n instead of pin-ups, and the overall feeling is that of a\n graduate school dorm rather than a prison. Cates turns, nods\n to the Guard at the end of the cell block. He throws a switch\n and the door opens.\n\n HAMMOND", "three-year sentence.\n\n HAMMOND\n You here to write my life story?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, Reggie. Maybe I just\n need some help.\n\n Cates takes the forensic photo out of his pocket, passes it\n across the table to Hammond. He looks at it, hardly reacts.\n\n HAMMOND\n Henry Wong... My old pal. He's\n looked better...\n\n He passes the photo back", " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", "CATES\n Too bad, Reggie. I thought maybe\n you were a smart boy. But I guess\n if you were real smart you\n wouldn't be a convict.\n\n He smiles, decides to play his card.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n I can see a second-rater like you\n wouldn't be any help at all goin'\n up against a real hard case like\n Ganz.\n\n Hammond jerks his head", " HAMMOND\n When you been in prison three\n years, it don't take long. Let's\n go.\n\n CATES\n Why?\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther's on the move...\n\n Cates jumps up, runs out. Hammond looks at Candy.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n I'll be back. Trust me.\n\n He kisses her.\n\n Runs off after", "uing)\n My name's Reggie Hammond.\n\n Big personality smile.\n\n RITA\n So what?\n\n She turns away as he takes a drink. He looks at another\n pretty girl (ANGELA).\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Hi there. I'm Reggie Hammond.\n\n ANGELA\n I'm with somebody.\n\n She turns away.\n\n HAMMOND\n This ain'", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", ". It'll be here in\n six months when you get out.\n\n HAMMOND\n And you're tellin' me you don't\n want any of this cash?\n\n CATES\n That's right. Not my style,\n Reggie..\n\n HAMMOND\n You are an awesomely weird cop.\n Sure wish there were more like you\n runnin' around out here.\n\n CATES", "at him.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n We split 50-50?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n You gonna let me keep any of it?\n\n CATES\n Depends on how things work out. I\n believe in the merit system. So\n far you haven't built up any\n points.\n\n He smiles.\n\n H", ".\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Look, I got just six months before\n gettin' out of here. Six months\n between me and freedom after bein'\n here three years... And I'm not\n gonna do anything to screw it up,\n includin' pee in the prison yard,\n knock up the Warden's daughter or\n rat on my old partners...\n\n Cates swings the cell door back open.\n\n ", "Sure thing...\n\n He looks over at Hammond who smiles at him. Then looks at\n Harmond's clothes...\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n This prison gives out $400 suits?\n\n HAMMOND\n What are you talkin' about? This\n suit's mine. It cost $900.\n\n Hammond dusts off a sleeve.\n\n CATES\n We're supposed to be after a\n ", "\n Long moment. Then Hammond smiles and tosses him Luther's\n pistol. Luther groans. Cates puts his foot on Luther's belly\n and pulls himself into a standing position, cuffs him.\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther, I always told you the\n physical side of life wasn't your\n gig. Look at you, all messed\n up... Course you never were much\n in the snappy dresser department,\n were you?\n\n Cates now has Luther", "CATES\n Let's go, Reggie.\n\n He kisses Elaine.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Do I get to kiss her too?\n\n CATES\n If she's right, and if you don't\n screw up.\n\n They exit the bar.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n EXT. STREET - CHINATOVIN - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond hidden in a doorway which affords", "GROUND PARKING LOT - POLICE STATION - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk stoically along a row of cars, arrive\n at Hammond's Porsche.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, how'd my car get here?\n\n CATES\n I had it impounded. Come on,\n we'll use it for haulin' you back\n to the slam.\n\n HAMMOND\n Back to jail in my", "Hammond smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n You made that move, huh?\n\n CATES\n While you're at it, You can give\n me the switchblade, too.\n\n Hammond reluctantly takes out a .22 automatic, slams it down\n on the hood of the car.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Credit cards?\n\n Hammond hands them over with the knife.\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "\n VROMAN'S ROCK CLUB\n\n Band blasting away on another number (THE BOYS ARE BACK IN\n TOWN - VOCAL)\n\n Hammond now in the middle of the floor dancing his ass off\n with a girl named CANDY. As the song ends...\n\n HAMMOND\n My name's Reggie Hammond.\n\n Tries his big personality smile.\n\n This time gets one back.\n\n CANDY\n I'm candy...\n\n", "re going?\n\n CATES\n I'm taking my prisoner back to\n jail.\n\n Hammond looks at Haden.\n\n HAMMOND\n Goin' a little hard on him, aren't\n you?\n\n HADEN\n Go fuck yourself convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n You know for a man, you have very\n pretty brown eyes.\n\n Cates and Hammond walk out.\n\n UNDER", "on his own wrist.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Hey, no way. Take off the\n bracelets or no deal.\n\n CATES\n You just don't get it, do your\n Reggie? There isn't any deal. I\n own your ass.\n\n HAMMOND\n No way to start a partnership.\n\n CATES\n Get this. We ain't partners. We\n ", "NIGHT\n\n on a picturesque hill above the Haight. Cates standing near\n the wheel of Hammond's Porsche. Hammond comes down the porch\n steps from the hotel.\n\n CATES\n Okay, reggie, start bustin' my\n chops... Tell me how great you\n were with that chick.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, Jack, real men don't have to\n go in for that macho bullshit ...\n but I was fantastic." ], [ ".\n\n HAMMOND\n No, man, I think I'll have a vodka.\n\n Hamnond looks around the room.\n\n THE BARTENDER\n\n places a glass in front of him, picks up the dollar as\n Harmond flashes Cates' shield.\n\n HAMMOND\n You know a big Indian named Billy\n Bear? He used to work here.\n\n The Bartender shakes his head, gives him a scowl.\n\n B", "ATES\n I get the feeling it's going to be\n real long night.\n\n They keep driving.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n MISSION DISTRICT - STREET - NIGHT\n\n The Cadillac drives slowly past a bar called Torchie's.\n Stops at the end of the block.\n\n CATES\n Well?\n\n HAMMOND\n It's a long shot, but...Billy used\n to tend bar here a few years", "top of the hardware store.\n\n Hammond turns, grins at Cates. As far as he's concerned, he's\n won the bet. Cates nods, slips out the door.\n\n HAMMOND\n I don't give a damn about his\n girl...\n\n BARTENDER\n Look, give me a break, you're\n going to have to settle for her\n place. It's the only thing I know.\n\n He looks desperate.", ".\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n There is a bed and Rosalie, undressed, is in it... Billy is\n seated on the edge of it... pants on, shirt off, pulling on\n his boots. Suddenly, Hammond is pointing a gun at him...\n\n HAMMOND\n Give it up, Billy. You got no\n shot at it.\n\n Billy stands.\n\n ROSALIE\n Don't let him hurt met Billy.\n You'", "\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Looks like you're on your way to\n bein' outta business, redneck...\n Now, let's see what can we fuck\n with next?\n\n The Bartender doesn't have the look of a happy man.\n\n BARTENDER\n Okay, okay. The Indian hangs out\n with a girl down the block. Right\n where Chinatown starts. She lives\n on", "Billy Bear closes in on him.\n\n BILLY\n Say, buddy, my engine's\n overheating and I got 30 miles\n before the next station... Could\n I get some water out of your\n cooler?\n\n Ganz leans on his hoe, speaks as Billy passes...\n\n GANZ\n Maybe you shoulda stole a better\n truck, Tonto.\n\n BILLY\n You got a real big mouth, convict", " country boys.\n\n Cates smiles, finds a table in the corner. A Cowgirl comes\n over to take his order.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Takes a deep breath, moves toward the bar. Smiles at the good\n ol' boys. They don't smile back. He sits down at the bar.\n\n BARTENDER\n Yeah.\n\n HAMMOND\n Vodka.\n\n BARTENDER\n Maybe you better have a Black\n Russian", "when you were down and out.\n\n HAMMOND\n She's got a point there, Jack.\n\n Smiles. Cates reflects for a moment.\n\n CATES\n It's the only thing we got.\n\n He looks at Elaine.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Whaddya think?\n\n ELAINE\n What do I know? I'm just a\n bartender.\n\n ", "pals think.\n\n BARTENDER\n I don't give a shit who you ask.\n\n The Bartender walks down toward Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Moves away from the bar. He stops at a booth occupied by\n\n FOUR COWBOY PUNKS,\n\n one a very big man. Hammond grabs him by the arm and pulls\n him up.\n\n HAMMOND\n Up against the wall, cowboy.\n\n The Punk breaks free", "AMMOND\n (continuing)\n Over there...move your ass. Some\n of you rednecks seem a little hard\n of hearing, so I'll repeat it for\n everybody... I need word on the\n whereabouts of an Indian that goes\n by the name of Billy Bear. It's a\n police matter and you all look\n like you'd just love to\n cooperate...\n\n CATES Quietly sips his beer. The other occupants of the bar\n", "a mirror above Billy's head. Cates keeps moving closer, gun\n pointed straight ahead. Billy pushes the pistol against\n Rosalie'temple. For the first time, Cates hesitates. They\n face each other across the length of the lobby.\n\n ALGREN\n\n Struggles down the remaining steps into the lobby. He still\n holds his revolver. Dares not raise it towards Billy and\n Rosalie.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Covers Algren from near the entrance. He's confused,", "\n\n BARTENDER\n (continuing)\n I'm tellin' ya, I'm giving you all\n I know.\n\n HAMMOND\n Try obeyin' the law once in\n awhile, and I won't have to hassle\n you...\n\n Turns to go, then turns back.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n But remember this, cowboy, there's\n a new sheriff", " dying.\n\n HAMMOND\n If you help use he's got a chance,\n lady.\n\n CASEY\n Billy's in the first room off the\n hall ... With rosalie ... He's\n makin' her happy tonight. You\n don't understand about the way it\n is with him, do ya?\n\n CATES\n Where's ganz?\n\n CASEY\n In the", "Ganz goes through the\n connecting door. Slips into the adjacent room.\n\n BILLY'S ROOM\n\n Another Hooker cowers in the corner, pulling on her clothes.\n She's a Mexican girl in a ridiculous 'Indian' outfit.\n\n MEXICAN GIRL\n Que paso? Que esta pasando? No\n entiendo...\n\n BILLY\n Shut up.\n\n Billy goes to where Rosalie is awkwardlytied to a chair with\n an", "CK CITY\n\n Longhorns mounted over the bar, Rebel Flags, Lone Star Beer,\n armadillo posters. Even the waitresses wear Stetsons.\n Rockabilly pounding from the jukebox. A Cowgirl Stripper is\n doing the grind on a small podium.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n This place don't seem real popular\n with the brothers.\n\n CATES\n My kind of place. I always liked\n ", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", " let you do anything.\n\n BILLY\n They always let me do anything. I\n don't want to pay for it. I never\n paid for it in my life.\n\n GANZ\n Just do what I say, okay? We'll\n pay for the girls and have a good\n time... Don't you trust me?\n\n Billy smiles.\n\n BILLY\n Sure, I trust ya.\n\n They drive off.\n\n ", ".\n\n BRADY\n It's okay, chief. He's just\n joking...\n\n BILLY\n How about the water...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n Firewater, Tonto? Is that what\n you...\n\n Billy whirls, swings at Ganz. Both men roll to the ground.\n\n BRADY\n Hey! Jesus Christ!\n\n THE OTHER GUARDS\n\n Seeing", "ideas to\n yourself, lady.\n\n Ganz picks up his suitcase, walks over to the nearest\n stairwell. Billy and Rosalie follow...\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n STREET\n\n Bars starting to fill up with mid-day customers... A black\n Chevy cruises past and stops further up the block. Two\n Plainclothesmen, VANZANT and ALGREN, get out of the car. As\n they start toward the Walden...\n\n THE CADILLAC CONVERTI", " dress? a nice summer dress. You\n know I want her fresh... I'll tell\n you why, because I been hoein'\n weeds and makin' license plates\n for a couple of years... Yeah, I\n know you don't get it...\n\n\n\n\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Sees a couple approaching, he shoves the dead man down on the\n bench and spreads the newspaper over his head. The body now\n looking like a typical park bum who" ], [ "continuing)\n Where's the goddamn car?\n\n HAMMOND\n You're a real case, you know that,\n Jack?\n\n Smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n This'll show you how smart I am.\n I got it parked.\n\n CATES\n ...For three years? Let's hope it\n wasn't a tow-away zone.\n\n HAMMON", "the key, exits the booth. Luther follows\n to an elevated stack of cars. The Attendant throws a switch,\n the stack of cars begins to move.\n\n STREET\n\n Luther drives down the exit ramp in a dated Porsche\n convertible.\n\n The car is covered with a uniform coat of dust, except for\n the windshield which has been wiped hastily clean.\n\n Luther waits for a break in the flow of traffic, drives out.\n\n Another street\n\n Luther turns onto a side street and then suddenly", "Skids into a traffic sign, demolishing some newspaper\n machines. Cates curses, tries to start the car. The engine\n won't turn over. He looks at the distant bus.\n\n CATES\n Goddamn! Goddamn! Goddamn!\n\n Pounds on the dash. What's left of the windshield falls in at\n the impact.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Cates at his desk. Hammond seated nearby, now with", "D\n You just drove by it.\n\n The Cadillac makes a screeching U-turn,i swings into the curb.\n\n Cates leans out, looks at...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n PARKING BUILDING\n\n Narrow, multi-storied, with a garage-like opening and\n signals... proclaiming 'Weekly-Monthly-Long Term.\"\n\n CADILLAC\n\n CATES\n Okay, now what?\n\n Hammond gets out", "GROUND PARKING LOT - POLICE STATION - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk stoically along a row of cars, arrive\n at Hammond's Porsche.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, how'd my car get here?\n\n CATES\n I had it impounded. Come on,\n we'll use it for haulin' you back\n to the slam.\n\n HAMMOND\n Back to jail in my", " the cops, I promise you, I'll put\n holes in her you wouldn't believe.\n\n He smiles at Luther, pinches him on the cheek, shoves him out\n of the car.\n\n LUTHER\n\n Stands shivering as it powers away.\n\n WALDEN HOTEL - DAY\n\n A small hotel on one of the quiet streets behind Union Square.\n\n A GREEN COUGAR\n\n Pulls up across the street.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n INT. CAR", "NIGHT\n\n on a picturesque hill above the Haight. Cates standing near\n the wheel of Hammond's Porsche. Hammond comes down the porch\n steps from the hotel.\n\n CATES\n Okay, reggie, start bustin' my\n chops... Tell me how great you\n were with that chick.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, Jack, real men don't have to\n go in for that macho bullshit ...\n but I was fantastic.", "\n There's your God-damn dinner. Now,\n let's go.\n\n They move toward a row of parked cars.\n\n AT THE CADDY\n\n HAMMOND\n Who'd you call on the phone back\n at the booking station?\n\n CATES\n Just get in the car and keep your\n mouth shut.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Hammond gets in the car as Cates readjusts Elaine's scarf on\n the mirror", "busy.\n\n The Attendant opens a key file, begins rummaging in it.\n\n ATTENDANT\n We don't wash 'em, ya know.\n\n LUTHER\n How about chargin' the battery?\n\n ATTENDANT\n That we do. And we put air in the\n tires. I'll even sell you some gas\n if you need it.\n\n LUTHER\n Great, just great.\n\n The Attendant finds", ".\n\n THE CITY\n\n Beyond the skyline, grey streaks of dawn etch the sky.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n The Cadillac is pulled up facing the streets down the block\n from the parking sections Cates walks in through the lot\n entrance. Threads his way between the lines of parked\n vehicles Tired and haggard, he carries a paper bag filled\n with quick-order food.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CADILLAC\n\n Hammond stretches on the back seat. Cates slams", "AIL - DAY\n\n\n\n CATES LEADS HAMMOND OUT. THEY HEAD FOR CATES' BATTERED\n CADILLAC.\n\n HAMMOND\n This your car, man?\n\n CATES\n Yeah.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n It looks like you bought it off\n one of the brothers.\n\n As they approach the car...\n\n CATES\n Okay", "Cate's\n Cadillac appears ... starts to tail the Porsche.\n\n CADILLAC\n\n Cates follows Luther through several turns.\n\n\n\n\n\n The Porsche jerks whenever it speeds up or slows down.\n\n HAMMOND\n Jesus Christ, look at all the dust\n on my car...why in the hell don't\n he take it to a car wash?\n\n CATES\n Didn't know you darker people went\n in", "Cadillac.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Watches as Luther heads down the sidewaltoward him. As he\n starts to pass by... Hammond steps out suddenly... Flattens\n him with the car door. Luther drops, stunned. Hammond, still\n restricted by being cuffed to the door handle, reaches and\n grabs his pistol.\n\n CATES\n Hammond, Drop the Goddamn gun.\n\n Hammond looks up. He sprints across the pavement. Aims his\n gun", "for foreign jobs.\n\n HAMMOND\n I had no choice. Some white\n asshole bought the last piece of\n shit skyblue Cadillac.\n\n ANOTHER STREET\n\n The Caddy follows the Porsche.\n\n INT. CADDY\n\n As they follow Luther.\n\n CATES\n You'd think the guy'd be smart\n enough to know he was being tailed.\n\n HAMMOND\n Tryin' to", "of the car.\n\n Stands on the sidewalk.\n\n Stretches.\n\n Then gets into the back seats.\n\n HAMMOND\n Since you're wired on benniest you\n get to stay up and stare at the\n building. I'm tired, so I'm going\n to sleep. They take Sunday off.\n Place opens at seven o'clock\n Monday morning. Wake me up at a\n quarter till...\n\n Cates stares at the", " bus?\n\n CATES\n Yeah. It missed the last four\n stops.\n\n Cates pours on the gas.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n His eyes fall on the rear view mirror. A white Caddy dances\n in the vibrating glass. Billy looks over his shoulder at Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Ganz!\n\n THE CADDY\n\n Swerves into cross traffic, makes a big press forward. Comes\n abreast of the driver's", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", "BLE\n\n Pulls up near the two men. Cates climbs out of his car and\n walks over to them.\n\n CATES\n Hey, fellas, what's happening?\n Radio said you guys had something\n on...\n\n ALGREN\n Not much, Jack ... Salesman named\n Polson had his credit cards\n lifted...\n\n Algren nods over to the parking lot opposite.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)", "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", "Shoves him hard into the passengers in back.\n\n The man knocks over several more people creating a roadblock.\n\n Ganz vaults over the railing and starts for the trains.\n Cates loses a few more precious seconds grappling through the\n terrorized passengers...\n\n TRAIN AREA\n\n The usually jammed area looks like an empty stockyard. The\n patrons huddle in fear against any available wall.\n\n Cates bursts out of the stairwell...\n\n TUNNEL\n\n Red and green signal" ], [ "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "'t get it until Monday.\n Honest.\n\n GANZ\n You chickenshit punk...\n\n LUTHER\n Honest. The place we stashed it\n opens Monday morning. I can't get\n it till then. Monday morning,\n that's when it opens. After that,\n I'll get the money to you right\n away...\n\n Ganz finally takes the gun from the neck.\n\n GANZ\n I always", "you\n just take the money off Luther and\n split?\n\n HAMMOND\n Forget it. I want Ganz as bad as\n you do and I got some other news\n for you...\n\n He opens his jacket slightly. Reveals a shoulder holster and\n accompanying .45. A long moment.\n\n CATES\n I don't know why, but I'm going to\n let you keep it. Maybe because you\n told me you had it", " let you do anything.\n\n BILLY\n They always let me do anything. I\n don't want to pay for it. I never\n paid for it in my life.\n\n GANZ\n Just do what I say, okay? We'll\n pay for the girls and have a good\n time... Don't you trust me?\n\n Billy smiles.\n\n BILLY\n Sure, I trust ya.\n\n They drive off.\n\n ", " We'll follow you. Take it\n slow,okay?\n\n HENRY\n Sure, right.\n\n Ganz pockets the credit cards as Henry wheels away.\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n GANZ\n I want to drive awhile.\n\n BILLY\n I ain't tired yet.\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n GANZ\n Maybe after we get done with him\n I", "a number to give\n you heart failure? Guess you might\n start to get the picture after\n all. Mlaybe you're on the wrong\n side of the old law and order\n business..\n\n Cates is unmoved.\n\n CATES\n Just tell me about the money.\n\n HAMMOND\n Me and my bunch hit a dealer in\n the middle of a sale. It's the\n kind of money nobody ever reports\n stolen. I", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "A newspaper truck\n slowly grinds by, drops a bundleand moves on.\n\n EMBARCADERO - DAWN\n\n The station wagon pulls up to a young punk, HENRY WONG, on a\n motorcycle.\n\n Billy Bear smiles and leans out the driver's side window.\n\n BILLY\n You got somethin' for us, Henry?\n\n Henry produces some credit cards. Billy passes them to Ganz\n for inspection.\n\n\n\n\n\n GAN", "now closer to each other. Ganz holding Hammond and\n the money...\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Okay, cop ... give me your gun and\n I'll let him live. Come on, Cates,\n you're real good at giving up your\n gun.\n\n Cates keeps the same methodical pace...\n\n CATES\n Sure...\n\n Suddenly, he crouches and fires twice. Hammond twists as Ganz\n also fires. G", "\n\n With your own gun, cop. How does it feel? Cates leaps into a\n wooden phone booth. Ganz leisurely blasts away at the booth\n with both his and Cates' gun. Two bullets crash into the\n booth. Ganz moves to check inside the booth but sirens are\n ominously near. Ganz finally retreats out the entrance.\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Billy and Rosalie weave their way across street to the\n Cougar. They make a U-turn. Ganz runs", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", " HAMMOND\n How much?\n\n SOSNA\n This is clean shit. No serial\n numbers and never been used...\n\n HAMMOND\n Don't mess with me. How much?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n SOSNA\n Five bills.\n\n HAMMOND\n Five. On credit.\n\n SOSNA\n This ain't a credit business.\n\n You know that.\n\n", "HER\n\n Gets in.\n\n Sees that the driver is Billy Bear...\n\n BUS\n\n The bus starts up. Luther hesitates in the front. On the wide\n rear seat is Ganz. Rosalie beside him.\n\n GANZ\n Open your coat. Both sides.\n\n He shows he's not packed.\n\n LUTHER\n Let her go.\n\n GANZ\n First, the money.\n\n Luther takes a step.\n\n ", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", ", let's get down to it. I did\n my part and got you out. So now\n you tell me where we're goin'?\n\n HAMMOND\n Don't worry, I got a move for ya.\n An awesome move. A guy named\n Luther. Ganz'll be paying him a\n visit. We go to him right away.\n\n CATES\n Luther was part of the gang?\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "place.\n\n CATES\n You son of a bitch. You knew where\n the money was all along and all we\n had to do was come here and wait.\n I almost got my ass blown off\n twice tonight for nothing.\n\n HAMMOND\n I wasn't sure the money was still\n there until we saw Luther. You\n almost got your ass shot off for\n nothing once, not twice, Jack.\n\n CATES\n Shit", " Here's hoping, baby...\n\n Candy leaves and melts into the crowd on the dance floor.\n\n CATES\n What about Luther?\n\n HAMMOND\n What about Ganz?\n\n Cates shrugs.\n\n CATES\n We missed.\n\n HAMMOND\n You missed ... Luther took a taxi\n to the hotel across the street.\n Made a phone call.\n\n CATES\n Maybe" ], [ "-looking bureaucrat named BOB.\n\n CATES\n Let me borrow your pen, Bob.\n\n Handed over by Bob.\n\n BOB\n You going to use your own name?\n\n CATES\n Shit, no.\n\n CANDY\n\n He begins signing the documents.\n\n BOB\n Jack, just remember one thing. If\n all this comes down, you don't\n know me. I'm", " What gang you talkin' about, Jack?\n\n CATES\n I can read a police file,\n shithead, and quit calling me Jack.\n\n HAMMOND\n Just an expression man, don't mean\n nothin'.\n\n Cates gets behind the wheel and kicks the engine over.\n\n CATES\n I don't give a damn. It happens\n to be my name.\n\n HAMMOND\n Then what", "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", "was sittin' pretty,\n livin' in the high cotton, then\n somebody fingered me for another\n job. ... Some psycho who's out\n there capping people with some\n cop's gun.\n\n CATES\n He's after your money.\n\n HAMMOND\n You catch on real fast...Okay,\n Jack, let's talk deal. How much of\n my money you gonna let me keep?\n\n Cates just looks", "hold...\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, wait...\n\n CATES\n Just a second, that's all!\n\n He hits the bold button, starts rummaging through the desk.\n Paperwork scatters in all directions.\n\n Kehoe watches him in silence for awhile then leaves. Cates\n begins to dial.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Hammond... you son of a bitch,\n where are you?\n\n Listens", ".\n\n CATES\n You? Don't make me laugh. You\n can't take care of shit. You've\n been dicking me around since we\n started on this turd-hunt. All\n you're good for is games... So\n far, what I got outta you is\n nothin'...\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm impressed with you too, Jack\n you did a real good job of busting\n", " shit. What happened?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n We and my pal here have been\n taking it on the chin for the last\n few hours...\n\n Hammond looks at her. He nudges Cates.\n\n ELAINE\n Who the hell are you?\n\n HAMMOND\n Name's Hammond, Reggie Hammond.\n I heard a lot about you. And any\n friend of Jack's is", " yours from the Vice Squad wants\n you to call him.\n\n CATES\n What?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you still there?\n\n KEHOE\n Yeah. He said he rousted a bar\n with you last night.\n\n CATES\n Jesus Christ. Why the hell didn't\n you tell me before?\n\n KEHOE\n I'm not paid to take your personal\n", "good at your job don't\n explain everything, Jack ...\n\n CATES\n Yeah. Guess not.\n\n Hammond gives him a big smile.\n\n HAMMOND\n As long as you're feeling like Abe\n Lincoln, how about payin' me on\n our bet? We got time and all this\n pussy around here's drivin' me\n crazy. See that one over there,\n the one I was with...\n\n He nod", " Elaine, look, I'm in the middle of\n sone stuff right now... I'm not\n gonna have time to come by. I\n don't know when I can get there.\n\n Her face falls. Making the offer was hard enough.\n\n ELAINE\n Come on, Jack ... you're making me\n work too Goddamn hard at this...\n\n Jack is very irritated by this turn of events.\n\n CATES\n Listen, Goddamn it", "BLE\n\n Pulls up near the two men. Cates climbs out of his car and\n walks over to them.\n\n CATES\n Hey, fellas, what's happening?\n Radio said you guys had something\n on...\n\n ALGREN\n Not much, Jack ... Salesman named\n Polson had his credit cards\n lifted...\n\n Algren nods over to the parking lot opposite.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)", ".\n\n Frizzy turns to find Cates standing beside her. He nudges her\n aside. Starts going throught the register book.\n\n FRIZZY\n Aw, come on, what the shit is this?\n\n ALGREN\n We're looking for a guy going\n under the name Polson...\n\n Frizzy sits back down in defeat.\n\n FRIZZY\n Okay, big deal. Get it over with.\n\n Cates finds the", "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", " calls. He was in some bar. .. off\n duty.\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates interrupts.\n\n CATES\n The number ... what's the Goddamn\n number?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack? What was that?\n\n KEHOE\n Find it yourself. It's on my desk.\n\n Cates speaks back into the receiver.\n\n CATES\n Elaine, I gotta put you on", "hot dog on\n this one, Jack.\n\n CATES\n Being a hot dog's worked pretty\n well for me so far... Besides, I\n got a lead...\n\n HADEN\n Okay. You're not a team player.\n You gotta do things your own way.\n Fine. Nail this guy and make us\n all look good. But you better\n watch your ass. If you screw up,\n I can promise you, you", "\n No, you don't. If I ever get word\n of you steppin' over the line\n again, I'm gonna ventilate that\n suit of yours.\n\n HAMMOND\n Spare met Jack. I'm into legit\n investments from here on in.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates gives him a very skeptical look, as they head for the\n car.\n\n Hammond gets in behind the wheel, Cates on the passenger side.\n\n ", "\n\n CATES\n Shit.\n\n Kehoe next produces several boxes of shells.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n KEHOE\n This cat was real serious about\n his artillery.\n\n An Attendant comes through, hands Kehoe a file. He opens it,\n shows the file to Cates who reads the name under the mug shot.\n\n CATES\n Billy Bear...\n\n KEHOE\n Backup man from the", "name.\n\n CATES\n Mr. Polson, room 27...\n\n ALGREN\n Is he alone?\n\n FRIZZY\n Naw, his sister went up an hour\n ago.\n\n Vanzant turns to Cates.\n\n VANZANT\n Okay, like we said, you stake out\n the lobby.\n\n CATES\n Sure. Great. Whatever.\n\n VANZ", ".\n\n HAMMOND\n Must of been your lady friend...\n\n Cates frowns at him.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n You really do have onoe, huh,\n Jack... what's her problem besides\n you?\n\n CATES\n She's got the same complaint as\n half the Goddamn population. She\n can't get the job she's trained\n for and it pisses", "place.\n\n CATES\n You son of a bitch. You knew where\n the money was all along and all we\n had to do was come here and wait.\n I almost got my ass blown off\n twice tonight for nothing.\n\n HAMMOND\n I wasn't sure the money was still\n there until we saw Luther. You\n almost got your ass shot off for\n nothing once, not twice, Jack.\n\n CATES\n Shit" ], [ " and futilely tries to hit him....He throws her down on the\n bed as if she were a doll ... He goes to the window...\n\n EXT. FIRE ESCAPE\n\n Ganz peels down the fire escapes hits the ground. He stops\n for a second... Then Cates appears, Ganz fires a shot then\n starts to run. Cates keeps coming...\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n Hammond hears the gunfire, runs out of the room...\n\n CATES\n\n ", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", "She dashes for\n safety... Cates gets to his feet behind cover. Sees Billy\n holding Rosalie by the throat. Frizzy begins to scream.\n\n GANZ\n He'll blow her goddamn head off.\n\n Cates doesn't miss a beat. He slowly levels his .44. Takes\n careful aim and starts to fire at Billy.\n\n ROSALIE\n No. No.\n\n Cates' shot narrowly misses Rosalie. The bullet smashes into\n ", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", "\n starts firing furiously down the corridor... He grabs the\n briefcase and runs to the window.\n\n INT. CORRIDOR/DOOWAY TO BACK BEDROOM\n\n Cates has ducked the bullets ... he is inching toward the\n door...\n\n He pulls it open...Ganz from the window fires another shot\n which almost gets him then vanishes down the fire escape...\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Sally gets to her feett yelling, runs at Cates as he appears\n", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", "\n of childish disbelief passes over his face.\n\n GANZ\n I got hit. I can't believe it. I\n got shot.\n\n CATES\n You're done. End of story.\n\n GANZ\n I ain't gonna beg for my life. It\n ain't cool.\n\n He runs at Cates full-speed, screaming, roaring, then is\n stopped by two more bullets that tear fist-sized holes in", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "the woman\n across the head with the gun. Her body slumps to the floor.\n Police sirens can be heard in the distance. Cates makes an\n attempt for Algren's gun. A bullet splatters against the\n floor only inches from his outstretched fingers. The gun\n skitters out of reach.\n\n CATES\n You lying son of a bitch...\n\n GANZ\n What are you talking about? We\n didn't kill her ...\n\n Ganz smiles.", "now closer to each other. Ganz holding Hammond and\n the money...\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Okay, cop ... give me your gun and\n I'll let him live. Come on, Cates,\n you're real good at giving up your\n gun.\n\n Cates keeps the same methodical pace...\n\n CATES\n Sure...\n\n Suddenly, he crouches and fires twice. Hammond twists as Ganz\n also fires. G", "\n\n With your own gun, cop. How does it feel? Cates leaps into a\n wooden phone booth. Ganz leisurely blasts away at the booth\n with both his and Cates' gun. Two bullets crash into the\n booth. Ganz moves to check inside the booth but sirens are\n ominously near. Ganz finally retreats out the entrance.\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Billy and Rosalie weave their way across street to the\n Cougar. They make a U-turn. Ganz runs", "...\n\n HAMMOND\n\n on his street hears the shot... he runs toward it, down a\n narrow alley between two buildings....\n\n EXT. DOORWAY AT END OF ALLEY\n\n Ganz hears footsteps approach from the opposite direction of\n Cates. They move very close to where be is crouched... it is\n Hammond coming toward him... Ganz suddenly rolls a garbage\n can in his path, dropping him like a stone.\n\n CATES\n\n Comes toward where he expects to find", "side of the bus.\n\n GANZ\n\n Smashes a side window with the two handguns.\n\n Blasts away.\n\n Cates driving with one hand as he draws his gun.\n\n CATES\n\n Looks up as glass shards sparkle down.\n\n He speeds up ... he is neck and neck with the bus.\n\n Hammond has a clear shot of Billy Bear who gives a side\n glance at him;\n\n Hammond doesn't shoot...\n\n Cates slows down and fires...\n\n", "out. Car pulls out,\n then the police cars and vans begin to arrive.\n\n PHONE BOOTH\n\n Chunks of wood on the floor. Shafts of light through a dozen\n bullet holes. Shattered receiver dangling from a cord. Cates,\n wedged tight into the very top of the cubicle. He drops to\n the floor.\n\n LOBBY\n\n The police arrive. Swarm into the hotel. All eyes on Cates as\n he rushes to Algren. Too late... Cates realizes", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "to the floor... Ganz\n swings Cates' .44 toward Hammond.\n\n PATROLMAN\n Hey--you!\n\n Ganz whirls, his feet slipping on the marble floor. His shot\n at Hammond goes plowing into the ceiling. The crowd starts to\n panic and run in all directions.\n\n\n\n\n\n The Patrolman has al ready brought his own gun out. Levels it\n at Ganz.\n\n PATROLMAN\n (continuing)\n ", " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", "a mirror above Billy's head. Cates keeps moving closer, gun\n pointed straight ahead. Billy pushes the pistol against\n Rosalie'temple. For the first time, Cates hesitates. They\n face each other across the length of the lobby.\n\n ALGREN\n\n Struggles down the remaining steps into the lobby. He still\n holds his revolver. Dares not raise it towards Billy and\n Rosalie.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Covers Algren from near the entrance. He's confused,", "which he's fired...and\n comes into the middle of the street, gun up ... he puts it\n down when he sees Ganz with Hammond in jeopardy. The hand\n that's around Hammond's throat also holds the black bag.\n Cates walks forward, his gun down at his side...\n\n GANZ\n After I get outta this, cop...I'm\n gonna live forever...\n\n CATES\n I don't think you're gonna make it.\n" ], [ "now closer to each other. Ganz holding Hammond and\n the money...\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Okay, cop ... give me your gun and\n I'll let him live. Come on, Cates,\n you're real good at giving up your\n gun.\n\n Cates keeps the same methodical pace...\n\n CATES\n Sure...\n\n Suddenly, he crouches and fires twice. Hammond twists as Ganz\n also fires. G", "anz is hit in the collarbone and driven ten feet\n backward. His grip on Hammond drops, Hammond dives to the\n ground, looks at Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n Jesus Christ, I didn't think you'd\n really do it. You are crazy.\n\n Ganz' gun still in his hand, but his arm useless at his side.\n Cates is frozen in the crouch, ready to fire again.\n\n\n\n\n\n Ganz is in enormous pain holding his bleeding chest... A look", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown", " and futilely tries to hit him....He throws her down on the\n bed as if she were a doll ... He goes to the window...\n\n EXT. FIRE ESCAPE\n\n Ganz peels down the fire escapes hits the ground. He stops\n for a second... Then Cates appears, Ganz fires a shot then\n starts to run. Cates keeps coming...\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n Hammond hears the gunfire, runs out of the room...\n\n CATES\n\n ", "\n of childish disbelief passes over his face.\n\n GANZ\n I got hit. I can't believe it. I\n got shot.\n\n CATES\n You're done. End of story.\n\n GANZ\n I ain't gonna beg for my life. It\n ain't cool.\n\n He runs at Cates full-speed, screaming, roaring, then is\n stopped by two more bullets that tear fist-sized holes in", "Ganz... Ganz has his\n arm around Hammond's throat and his gun to his ear...\n\n GANZ\n Drop it... you come up against me,\n you're gonna lose...\n\n Hammond drops his gun.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Hey, cop, come on...l got\n something for ya... come on...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET\n\n Cates comes out of the doorway from", "...\n\n HAMMOND\n\n on his street hears the shot... he runs toward it, down a\n narrow alley between two buildings....\n\n EXT. DOORWAY AT END OF ALLEY\n\n Ganz hears footsteps approach from the opposite direction of\n Cates. They move very close to where be is crouched... it is\n Hammond coming toward him... Ganz suddenly rolls a garbage\n can in his path, dropping him like a stone.\n\n CATES\n\n Comes toward where he expects to find", "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are", "quickness, he\n reaches and produces a huge Bowie knife from behind his back.\n Billy smiles, laughs...then with a sudden, awful roar, he\n leaps at Hamnond who unflinchingly fires his pistol. The big\n slugs stop Billy cold and throw him back against the bed as\n Rosalie shrieks.\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Ganz, half-dressed, asleep, gun in hand, throws himself off\n the bed, pushes Sally out of the way ... opens the door and", "out with his own pistol, caps the Second\n Guard.\n\n THIRD GUARD\n\n Still forty yards away... In mid-draw, be howls as a bullet\n from Ganz breaks the nearby ground. He fires, then turns and\n runs for the prison bus.\n\n GANZ\n\n Smiling, fires twice. but the range is too great for pistol\n work...\n\n THE OTHER PRISONERS\n\n Watching....Then they all scatter in different directions...\n\n GANZ\n\n Hefts his", "his pistol. Ganz screams with pain, drops his gun... Cates\n again slams him with his pistol, felling him...\n\n GANZ\n\n Slides across the floor.\n\n CATES Senses something ... moves just as Billy appears behind\n and fires at him. The bullet takes out a window. Cates dives\n over the desk. Another bullet chews up the wood.\n\n LOBBY\n\n Frizzy has been standing beside her desk, screaming... Cates'\n move and the accompanying bulletspanic her.", "She matches Ganz's earlier requirements.Smoking a cigarette,\n staring at the ceiling. Ganz remains on top of the blanket.\n Still in his shirt and pants watching TV. Three sharp knocks\n at the door. Ganz reacts as if he's received an electric\n shock. His hand goes under the pillow... Comes up with an\n automatic. Shoves it hard into Lisa's stomach.\n\n LISA\n Hey...\n\n GANZ\n Shut up.\n\n LIS", "the woman\n across the head with the gun. Her body slumps to the floor.\n Police sirens can be heard in the distance. Cates makes an\n attempt for Algren's gun. A bullet splatters against the\n floor only inches from his outstretched fingers. The gun\n skitters out of reach.\n\n CATES\n You lying son of a bitch...\n\n GANZ\n What are you talking about? We\n didn't kill her ...\n\n Ganz smiles.", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "A maniac gets hold of\n my gun and goes all over the\n streets killing people with it.\n So, instead of me being where I\n oughta be, which is in bed giving\n my girl the high, hard one, I'm\n out here doing this shit, roaming\n around with some overdressed,\n charcoal-colored loser like you.\n\n HAMMOND\n You wanna leave, man? Let me take\n care of Ganz all by myself", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "to the floor... Ganz\n swings Cates' .44 toward Hammond.\n\n PATROLMAN\n Hey--you!\n\n Ganz whirls, his feet slipping on the marble floor. His shot\n at Hammond goes plowing into the ceiling. The crowd starts to\n panic and run in all directions.\n\n\n\n\n\n The Patrolman has al ready brought his own gun out. Levels it\n at Ganz.\n\n PATROLMAN\n (continuing)\n " ], [ "NIGHT\n\n on a picturesque hill above the Haight. Cates standing near\n the wheel of Hammond's Porsche. Hammond comes down the porch\n steps from the hotel.\n\n CATES\n Okay, reggie, start bustin' my\n chops... Tell me how great you\n were with that chick.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, Jack, real men don't have to\n go in for that macho bullshit ...\n but I was fantastic.", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", " And I don't think I will. He owes\n me money...\n\n SALLY\n He's a Goddamn lowlife, the way he\n treated her.\n\n CATES\n Sounds like a real stormy romance.\n\n CASEY\n I don't much care what it sounds\n like to you, Cop. All I know is\n that I went a few laps around the\n track with him and I ended up with\n ", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", "uing)\n My name's Reggie Hammond.\n\n Big personality smile.\n\n RITA\n So what?\n\n She turns away as he takes a drink. He looks at another\n pretty girl (ANGELA).\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Hi there. I'm Reggie Hammond.\n\n ANGELA\n I'm with somebody.\n\n She turns away.\n\n HAMMOND\n This ain'", "three-year sentence.\n\n HAMMOND\n You here to write my life story?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, Reggie. Maybe I just\n need some help.\n\n Cates takes the forensic photo out of his pocket, passes it\n across the table to Hammond. He looks at it, hardly reacts.\n\n HAMMOND\n Henry Wong... My old pal. He's\n looked better...\n\n He passes the photo back", "Cates takes out a cigarette, starts to light it.\n\n Hammond takes the match does it for him.\n\n CATES\n Thanks.\n\n HAMMOND\n No trouble, Jack. But, listen,\n suppose I stay a crook? Where'd\n you get the idea that you could\n catch me?\n\n They both smile. Hammond socks it into gear and they drive\n off into the far distance...\n\n END.\n\n\n\n\n\n</PRE", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "good at your job don't\n explain everything, Jack ...\n\n CATES\n Yeah. Guess not.\n\n Hammond gives him a big smile.\n\n HAMMOND\n As long as you're feeling like Abe\n Lincoln, how about payin' me on\n our bet? We got time and all this\n pussy around here's drivin' me\n crazy. See that one over there,\n the one I was with...\n\n He nod", "was sittin' pretty,\n livin' in the high cotton, then\n somebody fingered me for another\n job. ... Some psycho who's out\n there capping people with some\n cop's gun.\n\n CATES\n He's after your money.\n\n HAMMOND\n You catch on real fast...Okay,\n Jack, let's talk deal. How much of\n my money you gonna let me keep?\n\n Cates just looks", " shit. What happened?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n We and my pal here have been\n taking it on the chin for the last\n few hours...\n\n Hammond looks at her. He nudges Cates.\n\n ELAINE\n Who the hell are you?\n\n HAMMOND\n Name's Hammond, Reggie Hammond.\n I heard a lot about you. And any\n friend of Jack's is", "robbery to pimping, then\n you're all set.\n\n Under the suit is a nondescript attache case. Luther takes\n it, closes the trunk. Beads down the sidewalk.\n\n CADILLAC\n\n HAMMOND\n That's the money, Jack.\n\n They jump out of the car, follow on foot.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Luther hurries along the sidewalk.\n\n He reaches the corner, turns quickly...\n\n", "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", "ure. She grabs the money.\n\n CANDY\n Hello, again.\n\n HAMMOND\n I just struck it rich... I think\n we can do a little business. As\n a matter of fact, I think we can\n have a party.\n\n Hammond smiles, leads her out of the bar.\n\n CATES\n Hurry back.\n\n Cates watches them go, downs his drink. He fishes in his\n pocket for a", "own car. Ganz\n got away. Got all my money. It\n just don't seem right.\n\n CATES\n I don't know about you, but I\n could use a drink... I'll buy you\n one. It'll be my good-bye present.\n\n Takes off Hammond's cuffs. Looks at them.. Throws them away.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Sorry we didn't do better, Jack.", " yours from the Vice Squad wants\n you to call him.\n\n CATES\n What?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you still there?\n\n KEHOE\n Yeah. He said he rousted a bar\n with you last night.\n\n CATES\n Jesus Christ. Why the hell didn't\n you tell me before?\n\n KEHOE\n I'm not paid to take your personal\n", ". It'll be here in\n six months when you get out.\n\n HAMMOND\n And you're tellin' me you don't\n want any of this cash?\n\n CATES\n That's right. Not my style,\n Reggie..\n\n HAMMOND\n You are an awesomely weird cop.\n Sure wish there were more like you\n runnin' around out here.\n\n CATES", " nothin' but the short end of the\n stick.\n\n Cates looks over at Hammond.\n\n CATES\n Let's go.\n\n HAMMOND\n Wait a minute. Maybe these ladies\n would like to go a few laps with\n us. How about it? I been nearly\n three years in prison and...\n\n SALLY\n Fuck off.\n\n CATES\n Come on...\n\n Hann" ], [ "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", "NIGHT\n\n on a picturesque hill above the Haight. Cates standing near\n the wheel of Hammond's Porsche. Hammond comes down the porch\n steps from the hotel.\n\n CATES\n Okay, reggie, start bustin' my\n chops... Tell me how great you\n were with that chick.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, Jack, real men don't have to\n go in for that macho bullshit ...\n but I was fantastic.", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", ". It'll be here in\n six months when you get out.\n\n HAMMOND\n And you're tellin' me you don't\n want any of this cash?\n\n CATES\n That's right. Not my style,\n Reggie..\n\n HAMMOND\n You are an awesomely weird cop.\n Sure wish there were more like you\n runnin' around out here.\n\n CATES", " shit. What happened?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n We and my pal here have been\n taking it on the chin for the last\n few hours...\n\n Hammond looks at her. He nudges Cates.\n\n ELAINE\n Who the hell are you?\n\n HAMMOND\n Name's Hammond, Reggie Hammond.\n I heard a lot about you. And any\n friend of Jack's is", "CATES\n Let's go, Reggie.\n\n He kisses Elaine.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Do I get to kiss her too?\n\n CATES\n If she's right, and if you don't\n screw up.\n\n They exit the bar.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n EXT. STREET - CHINATOVIN - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond hidden in a doorway which affords", "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", "three-year sentence.\n\n HAMMOND\n You here to write my life story?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, Reggie. Maybe I just\n need some help.\n\n Cates takes the forensic photo out of his pocket, passes it\n across the table to Hammond. He looks at it, hardly reacts.\n\n HAMMOND\n Henry Wong... My old pal. He's\n looked better...\n\n He passes the photo back", "hold...\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, wait...\n\n CATES\n Just a second, that's all!\n\n He hits the bold button, starts rummaging through the desk.\n Paperwork scatters in all directions.\n\n Kehoe watches him in silence for awhile then leaves. Cates\n begins to dial.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Hammond... you son of a bitch,\n where are you?\n\n Listens", "not gonna burn for\n you. And I'll tell you something\n else. If it all comes down, your\n ass is new-mown grass.\n\n CATES\n Right. Hey, no sweat.\n\n He hands over the papers. Smiles.\n\n BOB\n BOB You got him for 48 hours.\n\n Bob studies the sheet.\n\n BOB\n (continuing)\n You got a big career as a forger\n", " HAMMOND\n When you been in prison three\n years, it don't take long. Let's\n go.\n\n CATES\n Why?\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther's on the move...\n\n Cates jumps up, runs out. Hammond looks at Candy.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n I'll be back. Trust me.\n\n He kisses her.\n\n Runs off after", "good at your job don't\n explain everything, Jack ...\n\n CATES\n Yeah. Guess not.\n\n Hammond gives him a big smile.\n\n HAMMOND\n As long as you're feeling like Abe\n Lincoln, how about payin' me on\n our bet? We got time and all this\n pussy around here's drivin' me\n crazy. See that one over there,\n the one I was with...\n\n He nod", "cells. They don't know who he is, but they\n can smell a cop. Cates stops at Twenty-two, looks inside...\n a bit startled. Obviously, Reggie Hammond has connections and\n taste. The paint is fresh; there's framed prints on the wall\n instead of pin-ups, and the overall feeling is that of a\n graduate school dorm rather than a prison. Cates turns, nods\n to the Guard at the end of the cell block. He throws a switch\n and the door opens.\n\n HAMMOND", "INE\n I've been waiting a long time to\n hear you say that.\n\n CATES\n Yeah, bein' a hard-ass all the\n time is a real drag, but it works.\n\n He reaches out, lifts his watch from his pile of clothes on\n the floor.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Three more hours...\n\n ELAINE\n Where is he?\n\n CATES\n Promised", "CATES\n Too bad, Reggie. I thought maybe\n you were a smart boy. But I guess\n if you were real smart you\n wouldn't be a convict.\n\n He smiles, decides to play his card.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n I can see a second-rater like you\n wouldn't be any help at all goin'\n up against a real hard case like\n Ganz.\n\n Hammond jerks his head", "your pals\n back to bail you out one more time.\n\n CATES\n They saved your ass, convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n One thing's for sure, Jack.\n That's how you'll tell the story.\n\n Cates dries off his face, starts out of the washroom.\n\n CATES\n I'll even put it in my report that\n way.\n\n The door closes behind Cates. Hammond leans", "Hammond smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n You made that move, huh?\n\n CATES\n While you're at it, You can give\n me the switchblade, too.\n\n Hammond reluctantly takes out a .22 automatic, slams it down\n on the hood of the car.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Credit cards?\n\n Hammond hands them over with the knife.\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "second.\n\n CATES\n You did pick a real strange time\n to go and be brave all on your\n own...\n\n Hammond smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n Just tryin' to get the money,\n Jack. Just tryin' to build up a\n few points on that merit system.\n\n Cates smiles back, picks up the black bag as they move off.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n ELAINE'S BATHROOM\n" ], [ ".\n\n LUTHER LUTHER\n\n slips into the hallway behind Cates... Cates turns just as he\n gets to the kitchen. Luther holds a gun. Cates drops to a\n crouch and aims the .38. Luther whirls and fires at Cates. As\n wood and plaster fly out all round him, Cates makes a running\n dive for the floor. Luther runs out before Cates has\n regainehis feet.\n\n STREET\n\n Luther rushes out the front door and heads toward the\n ", "\n\n Hammond starts after Luther. Cates turns, starts to aim at\n Hammond. Hesitates...\n\n PASSENGER WALKWAY\n\n Panic has overtaken everyone as they try to escape the madman\n with the gun.\n\n Ganz and Billy elbow and kick their way through the crowd,\n tugging Rosalie along...\n\n Cates, gun in hand, creates further-panic as he moves after\n Ganz.\n\n Ganz grabs a man beside him.\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", "\n Long moment. Then Hammond smiles and tosses him Luther's\n pistol. Luther groans. Cates puts his foot on Luther's belly\n and pulls himself into a standing position, cuffs him.\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther, I always told you the\n physical side of life wasn't your\n gig. Look at you, all messed\n up... Course you never were much\n in the snappy dresser department,\n were you?\n\n Cates now has Luther", "you talkin' about? I said\n I wouldn't hurt her.\n\n And then he shoots Luther. Right between the buttons.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n I never break my word.\n\n Laughs as Rosalie begins to scream.\n\n CATES' CADDY\n\n Barreling down the street, ignoring red lights.\n\n\n\n\n\n Hammond shouts over the wind.\n\n HAMMOND\n Notice something funny about that\n ", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", "AN\n\n Cates knocks at the door. Nothing. Knocks again ... no\n response.. From inside, he hears a faint noise but no\n response to the knock. Holding the .38 in one hand, Cates\n tries the knob with the other. The door opens. Cautiously,\n Cates steps inside.\n\n INT. LUTHER'S VICTORIAN\n\n Long corridor ahead. No sign of Luther.\n\n CATES\n\n Moves down the corriaor, checks the rooms off to one sides", "\n obscuring Luther from Hammond and Cates for a moment. Cates\n steps out to get a better view and suddenly spots Ganz moving\n through the crowd toward Luther. Be looks over at Hammond\n across the station and motions. Then they both start moving\n in on Ganz, trying to intercept him before he gets deeper\n into the crowd.\n\n Ganz moves cautiously through the station. A crumpled\n newspaper held absently in his hand. He scans the faces of\n the commuters and spots Luther. Fails to", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown", "place.\n\n CATES\n You son of a bitch. You knew where\n the money was all along and all we\n had to do was come here and wait.\n I almost got my ass blown off\n twice tonight for nothing.\n\n HAMMOND\n I wasn't sure the money was still\n there until we saw Luther. You\n almost got your ass shot off for\n nothing once, not twice, Jack.\n\n CATES\n Shit", "\n\n Luther moves further into the station. Cates and Hammond\n enter. They keep Luther fixed between them, 50 feet ahead.\n Luther seems to be wandering He walks through the shop area\n and back toward the escalator. Hammond remains near the\n arcade while Cates blends in with the commuters. Luther puts\n the briefcase down at his feet and leans against a counter.\n Next to him, a loud troop of Boy Scouts marches by. A crowd\n of people from the train area below flows through the lobby", "\n Ganz and warn him. Ain't you,\n motherfucker?\n\n Luther makes a play toward Hammond, who laughs, doesn't even\n flinch.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Luther, are you angry with me?\n\n Cates wrestles Luther into the back seat, turns to Hammond.\n\n CATES\n I don't know what the hell you're\n smiling about, watermelon. Your\n big", "LUTHER - CATES & HAMMOND'S P.O.V.\n\n He goes to the trunk. Rummages there ... picks up a flaming\n red suit.\n\n INT. CADILLAC\n\n CATES\n That Goddamn suit is yours?\n\n Hammond winces.\n\n HAMMOND\n That was in style a couple years\n back, man.\n\n CATES\n Right. if you ever switch from\n armed", "Cadillac.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Watches as Luther heads down the sidewaltoward him. As he\n starts to pass by... Hammond steps out suddenly... Flattens\n him with the car door. Luther drops, stunned. Hammond, still\n restricted by being cuffed to the door handle, reaches and\n grabs his pistol.\n\n CATES\n Hammond, Drop the Goddamn gun.\n\n Hammond looks up. He sprints across the pavement. Aims his\n gun", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", " HAMMOND\n When you been in prison three\n years, it don't take long. Let's\n go.\n\n CATES\n Why?\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther's on the move...\n\n Cates jumps up, runs out. Hammond looks at Candy.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n I'll be back. Trust me.\n\n He kisses her.\n\n Runs off after", "the key, exits the booth. Luther follows\n to an elevated stack of cars. The Attendant throws a switch,\n the stack of cars begins to move.\n\n STREET\n\n Luther drives down the exit ramp in a dated Porsche\n convertible.\n\n The car is covered with a uniform coat of dust, except for\n the windshield which has been wiped hastily clean.\n\n Luther waits for a break in the flow of traffic, drives out.\n\n Another street\n\n Luther turns onto a side street and then suddenly", " and futilely tries to hit him....He throws her down on the\n bed as if she were a doll ... He goes to the window...\n\n EXT. FIRE ESCAPE\n\n Ganz peels down the fire escapes hits the ground. He stops\n for a second... Then Cates appears, Ganz fires a shot then\n starts to run. Cates keeps coming...\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n Hammond hears the gunfire, runs out of the room...\n\n CATES\n\n ", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "She dashes for\n safety... Cates gets to his feet behind cover. Sees Billy\n holding Rosalie by the throat. Frizzy begins to scream.\n\n GANZ\n He'll blow her goddamn head off.\n\n Cates doesn't miss a beat. He slowly levels his .44. Takes\n careful aim and starts to fire at Billy.\n\n ROSALIE\n No. No.\n\n Cates' shot narrowly misses Rosalie. The bullet smashes into\n " ], [ "robbery to pimping, then\n you're all set.\n\n Under the suit is a nondescript attache case. Luther takes\n it, closes the trunk. Beads down the sidewalk.\n\n CADILLAC\n\n HAMMOND\n That's the money, Jack.\n\n They jump out of the car, follow on foot.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Luther hurries along the sidewalk.\n\n He reaches the corner, turns quickly...\n\n", "a number to give\n you heart failure? Guess you might\n start to get the picture after\n all. Mlaybe you're on the wrong\n side of the old law and order\n business..\n\n Cates is unmoved.\n\n CATES\n Just tell me about the money.\n\n HAMMOND\n Me and my bunch hit a dealer in\n the middle of a sale. It's the\n kind of money nobody ever reports\n stolen. I", "was sittin' pretty,\n livin' in the high cotton, then\n somebody fingered me for another\n job. ... Some psycho who's out\n there capping people with some\n cop's gun.\n\n CATES\n He's after your money.\n\n HAMMOND\n You catch on real fast...Okay,\n Jack, let's talk deal. How much of\n my money you gonna let me keep?\n\n Cates just looks", " HAMMOND\n How much?\n\n SOSNA\n This is clean shit. No serial\n numbers and never been used...\n\n HAMMOND\n Don't mess with me. How much?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n SOSNA\n Five bills.\n\n HAMMOND\n Five. On credit.\n\n SOSNA\n This ain't a credit business.\n\n You know that.\n\n", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", "A maniac gets hold of\n my gun and goes all over the\n streets killing people with it.\n So, instead of me being where I\n oughta be, which is in bed giving\n my girl the high, hard one, I'm\n out here doing this shit, roaming\n around with some overdressed,\n charcoal-colored loser like you.\n\n HAMMOND\n You wanna leave, man? Let me take\n care of Ganz all by myself", "place.\n\n CATES\n You son of a bitch. You knew where\n the money was all along and all we\n had to do was come here and wait.\n I almost got my ass blown off\n twice tonight for nothing.\n\n HAMMOND\n I wasn't sure the money was still\n there until we saw Luther. You\n almost got your ass shot off for\n nothing once, not twice, Jack.\n\n CATES\n Shit", "ANT\n You're not missing out on\n Dillinger. This punk just stole\n some credit cards.\n\n Cates watches the two Detectives head for the elevator.\n\n SECOND FLOOR CORRIDOR\n\n Vanzant and Algren move down the hallwayStop at the far end.\n Both Detectives draw their pistols and approach a door.\n\n ROOM\n\n Summer dress and undergarments scatteredon the floor. LISA,\n lies naked under the covers.\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "Right here, right now.\n\n Pause.\n\n A long moment; Hammond decides be has no choice.\n\n HAMMOND\n I been waiting a long time for\n some money.\n\n CATES\n How much?\n\n HAMMOND\n Half a million.\n\n CATES\n Jesus.\n\n Hammond smiles his meanest smile.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n How's that for", "Hammond smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n You made that move, huh?\n\n CATES\n While you're at it, You can give\n me the switchblade, too.\n\n Hammond reluctantly takes out a .22 automatic, slams it down\n on the hood of the car.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Credit cards?\n\n Hammond hands them over with the knife.\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "of the car.\n\n Stands on the sidewalk.\n\n Stretches.\n\n Then gets into the back seats.\n\n HAMMOND\n Since you're wired on benniest you\n get to stay up and stare at the\n building. I'm tired, so I'm going\n to sleep. They take Sunday off.\n Place opens at seven o'clock\n Monday morning. Wake me up at a\n quarter till...\n\n Cates stares at the", "'t get it until Monday.\n Honest.\n\n GANZ\n You chickenshit punk...\n\n LUTHER\n Honest. The place we stashed it\n opens Monday morning. I can't get\n it till then. Monday morning,\n that's when it opens. After that,\n I'll get the money to you right\n away...\n\n Ganz finally takes the gun from the neck.\n\n GANZ\n I always", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "Algren is\n dead. He cradles Algren's head as he stares at the arriving\n TAC Squad and Patrolmen.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM DAY\n\n Cates walks in. Several Detectives gather around him.\n\n FAT COP\n What happened?\n\n CATES\n Read the report.\n\n OLD COP\n Two cops blown away by a credit\n card booster... that don't figure.\n\n", "at him.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n We split 50-50?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n You gonna let me keep any of it?\n\n CATES\n Depends on how things work out. I\n believe in the merit system. So\n far you haven't built up any\n points.\n\n He smiles.\n\n H", "anz had in\n the hotel?\n\n\n\n KEHOE\n Every last bit of it. The big\n guy's room was empty.\n\n CATES\n I'll help you out.\n\n Cates and Kehoe start going through the suitcase. Kehoe\n produces a speed loader for a .44...\n\n KEHOE\n This guy must have had a .44 like\n yours, Jack. Now he's got yours.", "\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n As a riatter of fact, I was so\n good, I may have my cock done in\n bronze.\n\n Cates holds up the black briefcase.\n\n CATES\n I guess this is what you want to\n talk about...All the pretty money\n that's inside here.\n\n Cates takes the case to the trunk, opens it, deposits the\n case, locks the trunk.\n\n HAMMOND\n Wait a minute", "\n\n Dancers sliding and jerking in front of them.\n\n SOSNA\n You sure?\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm sure. Everybody here's\n looking at everybody else's ass.\n\n Sosna pops open the suitcase. Lid shielding the contents from\n the patrons...\n\n SOSNA\n I got some real nice merchandise.\n All of it's clean.\n\n Suitcase arranged like q sales", "\n One of Polson's cards rented that\n green coupe.\n\n VANZANT\n Not too much for a big rough tough\n gunfighter like you to do on this\n one...\n\n Cates smiles at the verbal positioning he's used to with his\n colleagues.\n\n CATES\n Suspect packed or is this a\n laugher?\n\n ALGREN\n Five and dime stuff. Polson said\n ", "\n\n With your own gun, cop. How does it feel? Cates leaps into a\n wooden phone booth. Ganz leisurely blasts away at the booth\n with both his and Cates' gun. Two bullets crash into the\n booth. Ganz moves to check inside the booth but sirens are\n ominously near. Ganz finally retreats out the entrance.\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Billy and Rosalie weave their way across street to the\n Cougar. They make a U-turn. Ganz runs" ], [ "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", " let you do anything.\n\n BILLY\n They always let me do anything. I\n don't want to pay for it. I never\n paid for it in my life.\n\n GANZ\n Just do what I say, okay? We'll\n pay for the girls and have a good\n time... Don't you trust me?\n\n Billy smiles.\n\n BILLY\n Sure, I trust ya.\n\n They drive off.\n\n ", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "in' what I tell ya, you'll be\n okay.\n\n They move out of the car, head for the hotel.\n\n LOBBY\n\n A FRIZZY YOUNG BLONDE sits behind the desk in a mirrored\n entrance hall. She reads a lurid paperback. Morning traffic\n streams by outside as Ganz, Billy and Rosalie enter and\n approach the desk.\n\n GANZ\n We need some rooms for a couple of\n nights...Okay?\n\n She smiles", "liked you, Luther. You\n were always a lotta fun to hang\n out with...\n\n Rosalie is rubbing her neck now that she's been released...\n Ganz gestures to Billy.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n We're gonna keep her.\n\n Luther desperately doesn't like this.\n\n LUTHER\n Come on, you can trust me. Please.\n\n GANZ\n You try to mess with us or go to\n", "Ganz goes through the\n connecting door. Slips into the adjacent room.\n\n BILLY'S ROOM\n\n Another Hooker cowers in the corner, pulling on her clothes.\n She's a Mexican girl in a ridiculous 'Indian' outfit.\n\n MEXICAN GIRL\n Que paso? Que esta pasando? No\n entiendo...\n\n BILLY\n Shut up.\n\n Billy goes to where Rosalie is awkwardlytied to a chair with\n an", "electric dord. He pulls her to her feet as Ganz moves by.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n BILLY\n (continuing)\n When I say jump, girl, you better\n jump.\n\n\n\n BILLY\n (continuing)\n\n CORRIDOR\n\n Vanzant reaches down, tries the knob. Locked. Algren moves\n back, preparing to kick the door down.\n\n ADJACENT ROOM\n\n Ganz opens the", "\n\n Hammond starts after Luther. Cates turns, starts to aim at\n Hammond. Hesitates...\n\n PASSENGER WALKWAY\n\n Panic has overtaken everyone as they try to escape the madman\n with the gun.\n\n Ganz and Billy elbow and kick their way through the crowd,\n tugging Rosalie along...\n\n Cates, gun in hand, creates further-panic as he moves after\n Ganz.\n\n Ganz grabs a man beside him.\n\n\n\n\n\n ", " We'll follow you. Take it\n slow,okay?\n\n HENRY\n Sure, right.\n\n Ganz pockets the credit cards as Henry wheels away.\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n GANZ\n I want to drive awhile.\n\n BILLY\n I ain't tired yet.\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n GANZ\n Maybe after we get done with him\n I", "HER\n\n Gets in.\n\n Sees that the driver is Billy Bear...\n\n BUS\n\n The bus starts up. Luther hesitates in the front. On the wide\n rear seat is Ganz. Rosalie beside him.\n\n GANZ\n Open your coat. Both sides.\n\n He shows he's not packed.\n\n LUTHER\n Let her go.\n\n GANZ\n First, the money.\n\n Luther takes a step.\n\n ", " BILLY\n Get ready to duck.\n\n Ganz dives for the floor. Three police cars go by, sirens\n blaring, lights flashing. They pass the road gang. Ganz\n reappear, smiles...\n\n GANZ\n You know something? I'm having a\n real good time.\n\n HIGHWAY\n\n The station wagon blasts down the pavement... Becomes a small\n dot on the landscape.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n", "quickness, he\n reaches and produces a huge Bowie knife from behind his back.\n Billy smiles, laughs...then with a sudden, awful roar, he\n leaps at Hamnond who unflinchingly fires his pistol. The big\n slugs stop Billy cold and throw him back against the bed as\n Rosalie shrieks.\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Ganz, half-dressed, asleep, gun in hand, throws himself off\n the bed, pushes Sally out of the way ... opens the door and", "akes the photograph back from Billy and slips it into his\n jacket pocket...\n\n GANZ\n Walden Hotel. Third near Broadway.\n Tell them to ask for ... uh...\n\n He takes the hot credit cards out of his pocket, the name\n embossed on the plastic..\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n G.P. Polson...P.O.L.S.O.N....Just\n be a couple of hours.\n\n Hangs up. The", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "his pistol. Ganz screams with pain, drops his gun... Cates\n again slams him with his pistol, felling him...\n\n GANZ\n\n Slides across the floor.\n\n CATES Senses something ... moves just as Billy appears behind\n and fires at him. The bullet takes out a window. Cates dives\n over the desk. Another bullet chews up the wood.\n\n LOBBY\n\n Frizzy has been standing beside her desk, screaming... Cates'\n move and the accompanying bulletspanic her.", "Billy Bear closes in on him.\n\n BILLY\n Say, buddy, my engine's\n overheating and I got 30 miles\n before the next station... Could\n I get some water out of your\n cooler?\n\n Ganz leans on his hoe, speaks as Billy passes...\n\n GANZ\n Maybe you shoulda stole a better\n truck, Tonto.\n\n BILLY\n You got a real big mouth, convict" ], [ "liked you, Luther. You\n were always a lotta fun to hang\n out with...\n\n Rosalie is rubbing her neck now that she's been released...\n Ganz gestures to Billy.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n We're gonna keep her.\n\n Luther desperately doesn't like this.\n\n LUTHER\n Come on, you can trust me. Please.\n\n GANZ\n You try to mess with us or go to\n", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", "HER\n\n Gets in.\n\n Sees that the driver is Billy Bear...\n\n BUS\n\n The bus starts up. Luther hesitates in the front. On the wide\n rear seat is Ganz. Rosalie beside him.\n\n GANZ\n Open your coat. Both sides.\n\n He shows he's not packed.\n\n LUTHER\n Let her go.\n\n GANZ\n First, the money.\n\n Luther takes a step.\n\n ", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", "in' what I tell ya, you'll be\n okay.\n\n They move out of the car, head for the hotel.\n\n LOBBY\n\n A FRIZZY YOUNG BLONDE sits behind the desk in a mirrored\n entrance hall. She reads a lurid paperback. Morning traffic\n streams by outside as Ganz, Billy and Rosalie enter and\n approach the desk.\n\n GANZ\n We need some rooms for a couple of\n nights...Okay?\n\n She smiles", "Ganz goes through the\n connecting door. Slips into the adjacent room.\n\n BILLY'S ROOM\n\n Another Hooker cowers in the corner, pulling on her clothes.\n She's a Mexican girl in a ridiculous 'Indian' outfit.\n\n MEXICAN GIRL\n Que paso? Que esta pasando? No\n entiendo...\n\n BILLY\n Shut up.\n\n Billy goes to where Rosalie is awkwardlytied to a chair with\n an", "She dashes for\n safety... Cates gets to his feet behind cover. Sees Billy\n holding Rosalie by the throat. Frizzy begins to scream.\n\n GANZ\n He'll blow her goddamn head off.\n\n Cates doesn't miss a beat. He slowly levels his .44. Takes\n careful aim and starts to fire at Billy.\n\n ROSALIE\n No. No.\n\n Cates' shot narrowly misses Rosalie. The bullet smashes into\n ", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "it into\n Luther. He falls backwards. Cates looks at Hammond.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n Hey, this works pretty good.\n\n HAMMOND\n Thank you.\n\n CATES\n Want to try it again?\n\n Luther sits up again, glares at Cates.\n\n LUTHER\n Ganz and Billy got my girl,\n Rosalie.\n\n CATES\n I think I met her", " let you do anything.\n\n BILLY\n They always let me do anything. I\n don't want to pay for it. I never\n paid for it in my life.\n\n GANZ\n Just do what I say, okay? We'll\n pay for the girls and have a good\n time... Don't you trust me?\n\n Billy smiles.\n\n BILLY\n Sure, I trust ya.\n\n They drive off.\n\n ", "\n Rosalie is terrified, sobbing...\n\n CATES\n\n Arrives at the halfway turn of the second staircase. He takes\n the next flight in two jumps.\n\n ELEVATOR\n\n As the doors open, Ganz gestures for Billy and Rosalie to\n wait as he heads for the lobby.\n\n LOBBY\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates literally flies into the lobby just as Ganz appears. He\n slams Ganz against a column, belts him across the neck with\n ", "doesn't\n know what to do... He keeps hold of Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n\n His eyes catch Algren's...\n\n GANZ\n You. Drop it and we won't kill\n her.\n\n Algren tosses his gun to the floor.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Now, tell him to drop his Goddamn\n piece.\n\n ALGREN\n Do it,", " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are", "quickness, he\n reaches and produces a huge Bowie knife from behind his back.\n Billy smiles, laughs...then with a sudden, awful roar, he\n leaps at Hamnond who unflinchingly fires his pistol. The big\n slugs stop Billy cold and throw him back against the bed as\n Rosalie shrieks.\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Ganz, half-dressed, asleep, gun in hand, throws himself off\n the bed, pushes Sally out of the way ... opens the door and", ".\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n There is a bed and Rosalie, undressed, is in it... Billy is\n seated on the edge of it... pants on, shirt off, pulling on\n his boots. Suddenly, Hammond is pointing a gun at him...\n\n HAMMOND\n Give it up, Billy. You got no\n shot at it.\n\n Billy stands.\n\n ROSALIE\n Don't let him hurt met Billy.\n You'", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", " dying.\n\n HAMMOND\n If you help use he's got a chance,\n lady.\n\n CASEY\n Billy's in the first room off the\n hall ... With rosalie ... He's\n makin' her happy tonight. You\n don't understand about the way it\n is with him, do ya?\n\n CATES\n Where's ganz?\n\n CASEY\n In the", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can" ], [ "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown", ", let's get down to it. I did\n my part and got you out. So now\n you tell me where we're goin'?\n\n HAMMOND\n Don't worry, I got a move for ya.\n An awesome move. A guy named\n Luther. Ganz'll be paying him a\n visit. We go to him right away.\n\n CATES\n Luther was part of the gang?\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "liked you, Luther. You\n were always a lotta fun to hang\n out with...\n\n Rosalie is rubbing her neck now that she's been released...\n Ganz gestures to Billy.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n We're gonna keep her.\n\n Luther desperately doesn't like this.\n\n LUTHER\n Come on, you can trust me. Please.\n\n GANZ\n You try to mess with us or go to\n", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "'t get it until Monday.\n Honest.\n\n GANZ\n You chickenshit punk...\n\n LUTHER\n Honest. The place we stashed it\n opens Monday morning. I can't get\n it till then. Monday morning,\n that's when it opens. After that,\n I'll get the money to you right\n away...\n\n Ganz finally takes the gun from the neck.\n\n GANZ\n I always", "it into\n Luther. He falls backwards. Cates looks at Hammond.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n Hey, this works pretty good.\n\n HAMMOND\n Thank you.\n\n CATES\n Want to try it again?\n\n Luther sits up again, glares at Cates.\n\n LUTHER\n Ganz and Billy got my girl,\n Rosalie.\n\n CATES\n I think I met her", "you\n just take the money off Luther and\n split?\n\n HAMMOND\n Forget it. I want Ganz as bad as\n you do and I got some other news\n for you...\n\n He opens his jacket slightly. Reveals a shoulder holster and\n accompanying .45. A long moment.\n\n CATES\n I don't know why, but I'm going to\n let you keep it. Maybe because you\n told me you had it", " let you do anything.\n\n BILLY\n They always let me do anything. I\n don't want to pay for it. I never\n paid for it in my life.\n\n GANZ\n Just do what I say, okay? We'll\n pay for the girls and have a good\n time... Don't you trust me?\n\n Billy smiles.\n\n BILLY\n Sure, I trust ya.\n\n They drive off.\n\n ", "HER\n\n Gets in.\n\n Sees that the driver is Billy Bear...\n\n BUS\n\n The bus starts up. Luther hesitates in the front. On the wide\n rear seat is Ganz. Rosalie beside him.\n\n GANZ\n Open your coat. Both sides.\n\n He shows he's not packed.\n\n LUTHER\n Let her go.\n\n GANZ\n First, the money.\n\n Luther takes a step.\n\n ", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", "\n obscuring Luther from Hammond and Cates for a moment. Cates\n steps out to get a better view and suddenly spots Ganz moving\n through the crowd toward Luther. Be looks over at Hammond\n across the station and motions. Then they both start moving\n in on Ganz, trying to intercept him before he gets deeper\n into the crowd.\n\n Ganz moves cautiously through the station. A crumpled\n newspaper held absently in his hand. He scans the faces of\n the commuters and spots Luther. Fails to", "\n\n Hammond starts after Luther. Cates turns, starts to aim at\n Hammond. Hesitates...\n\n PASSENGER WALKWAY\n\n Panic has overtaken everyone as they try to escape the madman\n with the gun.\n\n Ganz and Billy elbow and kick their way through the crowd,\n tugging Rosalie along...\n\n Cates, gun in hand, creates further-panic as he moves after\n Ganz.\n\n Ganz grabs a man beside him.\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "\n CATES\n You took a big chance, leaving\n this here all this time.\n\n HAMMOND\n Not really. I figured Ganz was\n put down for a long time. And I\n knew Luther would never job me on\n his own. He's too chickenshit.\n\n CATES\n Guess what? Luther just got in\n line.\n\n Hammond sits up.\n\n HAMMOND\n", " Here's hoping, baby...\n\n Candy leaves and melts into the crowd on the dance floor.\n\n CATES\n What about Luther?\n\n HAMMOND\n What about Ganz?\n\n Cates shrugs.\n\n CATES\n We missed.\n\n HAMMOND\n You missed ... Luther took a taxi\n to the hotel across the street.\n Made a phone call.\n\n CATES\n Maybe", "in' what I tell ya, you'll be\n okay.\n\n They move out of the car, head for the hotel.\n\n LOBBY\n\n A FRIZZY YOUNG BLONDE sits behind the desk in a mirrored\n entrance hall. She reads a lurid paperback. Morning traffic\n streams by outside as Ganz, Billy and Rosalie enter and\n approach the desk.\n\n GANZ\n We need some rooms for a couple of\n nights...Okay?\n\n She smiles", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are" ], [ "NIGHT\n\n on a picturesque hill above the Haight. Cates standing near\n the wheel of Hammond's Porsche. Hammond comes down the porch\n steps from the hotel.\n\n CATES\n Okay, reggie, start bustin' my\n chops... Tell me how great you\n were with that chick.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, Jack, real men don't have to\n go in for that macho bullshit ...\n but I was fantastic.", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", "uing)\n My name's Reggie Hammond.\n\n Big personality smile.\n\n RITA\n So what?\n\n She turns away as he takes a drink. He looks at another\n pretty girl (ANGELA).\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Hi there. I'm Reggie Hammond.\n\n ANGELA\n I'm with somebody.\n\n She turns away.\n\n HAMMOND\n This ain'", " shit. What happened?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n We and my pal here have been\n taking it on the chin for the last\n few hours...\n\n Hammond looks at her. He nudges Cates.\n\n ELAINE\n Who the hell are you?\n\n HAMMOND\n Name's Hammond, Reggie Hammond.\n I heard a lot about you. And any\n friend of Jack's is", ", or maybe just\n because I'm too tired to argue...\n\n HAMMOND\n You sure that's the reason?\n\n Pause.\n\n CATES\n Thanks for callin' in... and I\n guess Maybe... Look, I'm sorry I\n called you Watermellon nigger...\n those kinds of things. I was just\n leanin' on ya, doin' my job.\n\n HAMMOND\n Bein'", "three-year sentence.\n\n HAMMOND\n You here to write my life story?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, Reggie. Maybe I just\n need some help.\n\n Cates takes the forensic photo out of his pocket, passes it\n across the table to Hammond. He looks at it, hardly reacts.\n\n HAMMOND\n Henry Wong... My old pal. He's\n looked better...\n\n He passes the photo back", " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", " Elaine, look, I'm in the middle of\n sone stuff right now... I'm not\n gonna have time to come by. I\n don't know when I can get there.\n\n Her face falls. Making the offer was hard enough.\n\n ELAINE\n Come on, Jack ... you're making me\n work too Goddamn hard at this...\n\n Jack is very irritated by this turn of events.\n\n CATES\n Listen, Goddamn it", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "\n\n ELAINE\n You first.\n\n CATES\n Look, I'm sorry about ... the way\n things have been lately. I know\n I haven't been acting real great...\n\n Behind Cates, Kehoe steps back into the room.\n\n KEHOE\n Hey, Cates...\n\n Cates swings around.\n\n KEHOE\n (continuing)\n I almost forgot. That pal of\n", "cells. They don't know who he is, but they\n can smell a cop. Cates stops at Twenty-two, looks inside...\n a bit startled. Obviously, Reggie Hammond has connections and\n taste. The paint is fresh; there's framed prints on the wall\n instead of pin-ups, and the overall feeling is that of a\n graduate school dorm rather than a prison. Cates turns, nods\n to the Guard at the end of the cell block. He throws a switch\n and the door opens.\n\n HAMMOND", "good at your job don't\n explain everything, Jack ...\n\n CATES\n Yeah. Guess not.\n\n Hammond gives him a big smile.\n\n HAMMOND\n As long as you're feeling like Abe\n Lincoln, how about payin' me on\n our bet? We got time and all this\n pussy around here's drivin' me\n crazy. See that one over there,\n the one I was with...\n\n He nod", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", "CATES\n Let's go, Reggie.\n\n He kisses Elaine.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Do I get to kiss her too?\n\n CATES\n If she's right, and if you don't\n screw up.\n\n They exit the bar.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n EXT. STREET - CHINATOVIN - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond hidden in a doorway which affords", " yours from the Vice Squad wants\n you to call him.\n\n CATES\n What?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you still there?\n\n KEHOE\n Yeah. He said he rousted a bar\n with you last night.\n\n CATES\n Jesus Christ. Why the hell didn't\n you tell me before?\n\n KEHOE\n I'm not paid to take your personal\n", "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", "to make\n me mad so I won't care for you...\n I wish you'd give me a little more\n of a chance.\n\n He turns away, moves into the corridor near the stairwell.\n\n CATES\n I don't have time for this. I\n gotta go to work.\n\n She stands frozen... He turns back and looks at her; it's\n hard to apologize.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Look, I'", "he's gonna\n get another one.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, talk to here jack. I don't\n feel like gettin' number two along\n side of the head.\n\n CATES\n I said police. Now drop the\n goddamn gun.\n\n CASEY\n Don't give me that police shit.\n You drop it.\n\n Pause.\n\n CATES\n Okay," ], [ "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", "...\n\n HAMMOND\n\n on his street hears the shot... he runs toward it, down a\n narrow alley between two buildings....\n\n EXT. DOORWAY AT END OF ALLEY\n\n Ganz hears footsteps approach from the opposite direction of\n Cates. They move very close to where be is crouched... it is\n Hammond coming toward him... Ganz suddenly rolls a garbage\n can in his path, dropping him like a stone.\n\n CATES\n\n Comes toward where he expects to find", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown", "in' what I tell ya, you'll be\n okay.\n\n They move out of the car, head for the hotel.\n\n LOBBY\n\n A FRIZZY YOUNG BLONDE sits behind the desk in a mirrored\n entrance hall. She reads a lurid paperback. Morning traffic\n streams by outside as Ganz, Billy and Rosalie enter and\n approach the desk.\n\n GANZ\n We need some rooms for a couple of\n nights...Okay?\n\n She smiles", "...\n\n RUTH\n This'll interest you, Jack...we've\n got something here from your\n gun... and these are from the\n first weapon Ganz used...\n\n CATES\n I don't get it.\n\n RUTH\n Here.\n\n CATES\n\n She turns, produces the third photo. Pins it beside the one\n from the Walden Hotel.\n\n RUTH\n A perfect", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "akes the photograph back from Billy and slips it into his\n jacket pocket...\n\n GANZ\n Walden Hotel. Third near Broadway.\n Tell them to ask for ... uh...\n\n He takes the hot credit cards out of his pocket, the name\n embossed on the plastic..\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n G.P. Polson...P.O.L.S.O.N....Just\n be a couple of hours.\n\n Hangs up. The", " and futilely tries to hit him....He throws her down on the\n bed as if she were a doll ... He goes to the window...\n\n EXT. FIRE ESCAPE\n\n Ganz peels down the fire escapes hits the ground. He stops\n for a second... Then Cates appears, Ganz fires a shot then\n starts to run. Cates keeps coming...\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n Hammond hears the gunfire, runs out of the room...\n\n CATES\n\n ", "now closer to each other. Ganz holding Hammond and\n the money...\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Okay, cop ... give me your gun and\n I'll let him live. Come on, Cates,\n you're real good at giving up your\n gun.\n\n Cates keeps the same methodical pace...\n\n CATES\n Sure...\n\n Suddenly, he crouches and fires twice. Hammond twists as Ganz\n also fires. G", "CATES\n Too bad, Reggie. I thought maybe\n you were a smart boy. But I guess\n if you were real smart you\n wouldn't be a convict.\n\n He smiles, decides to play his card.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n I can see a second-rater like you\n wouldn't be any help at all goin'\n up against a real hard case like\n Ganz.\n\n Hammond jerks his head", "anz is hit in the collarbone and driven ten feet\n backward. His grip on Hammond drops, Hammond dives to the\n ground, looks at Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n Jesus Christ, I didn't think you'd\n really do it. You are crazy.\n\n Ganz' gun still in his hand, but his arm useless at his side.\n Cates is frozen in the crouch, ready to fire again.\n\n\n\n\n\n Ganz is in enormous pain holding his bleeding chest... A look", "She matches Ganz's earlier requirements.Smoking a cigarette,\n staring at the ceiling. Ganz remains on top of the blanket.\n Still in his shirt and pants watching TV. Three sharp knocks\n at the door. Ganz reacts as if he's received an electric\n shock. His hand goes under the pillow... Comes up with an\n automatic. Shoves it hard into Lisa's stomach.\n\n LISA\n Hey...\n\n GANZ\n Shut up.\n\n LIS", " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are", "\n starts firing furiously down the corridor... He grabs the\n briefcase and runs to the window.\n\n INT. CORRIDOR/DOOWAY TO BACK BEDROOM\n\n Cates has ducked the bullets ... he is inching toward the\n door...\n\n He pulls it open...Ganz from the window fires another shot\n which almost gets him then vanishes down the fire escape...\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Sally gets to her feett yelling, runs at Cates as he appears\n", "Shoves him hard into the passengers in back.\n\n The man knocks over several more people creating a roadblock.\n\n Ganz vaults over the railing and starts for the trains.\n Cates loses a few more precious seconds grappling through the\n terrorized passengers...\n\n TRAIN AREA\n\n The usually jammed area looks like an empty stockyard. The\n patrons huddle in fear against any available wall.\n\n Cates bursts out of the stairwell...\n\n TUNNEL\n\n Red and green signal", "his pistol. Ganz screams with pain, drops his gun... Cates\n again slams him with his pistol, felling him...\n\n GANZ\n\n Slides across the floor.\n\n CATES Senses something ... moves just as Billy appears behind\n and fires at him. The bullet takes out a window. Cates dives\n over the desk. Another bullet chews up the wood.\n\n LOBBY\n\n Frizzy has been standing beside her desk, screaming... Cates'\n move and the accompanying bulletspanic her.", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", "electric dord. He pulls her to her feet as Ganz moves by.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n BILLY\n (continuing)\n When I say jump, girl, you better\n jump.\n\n\n\n BILLY\n (continuing)\n\n CORRIDOR\n\n Vanzant reaches down, tries the knob. Locked. Algren moves\n back, preparing to kick the door down.\n\n ADJACENT ROOM\n\n Ganz opens the" ], [ ".\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n There is a bed and Rosalie, undressed, is in it... Billy is\n seated on the edge of it... pants on, shirt off, pulling on\n his boots. Suddenly, Hammond is pointing a gun at him...\n\n HAMMOND\n Give it up, Billy. You got no\n shot at it.\n\n Billy stands.\n\n ROSALIE\n Don't let him hurt met Billy.\n You'", "She dashes for\n safety... Cates gets to his feet behind cover. Sees Billy\n holding Rosalie by the throat. Frizzy begins to scream.\n\n GANZ\n He'll blow her goddamn head off.\n\n Cates doesn't miss a beat. He slowly levels his .44. Takes\n careful aim and starts to fire at Billy.\n\n ROSALIE\n No. No.\n\n Cates' shot narrowly misses Rosalie. The bullet smashes into\n ", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", " Billy is hit in the shoulder. Ganz runs up and fires again...\n Hammond is hit in the arm. Cates grabs Hammond by the shirt.\n Yanks him close. Throws the wheel over ...\n\n CADDY\n\n Swerves as bullets pepper the passenger side. Stuffing flies\n out of Hammondis still warm seat. The right hand windows\n explode. Then the Caddy spins out.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n THE BUS\n\n Roars away...\n\n THE CADDY\n\n ", "quickness, he\n reaches and produces a huge Bowie knife from behind his back.\n Billy smiles, laughs...then with a sudden, awful roar, he\n leaps at Hamnond who unflinchingly fires his pistol. The big\n slugs stop Billy cold and throw him back against the bed as\n Rosalie shrieks.\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Ganz, half-dressed, asleep, gun in hand, throws himself off\n the bed, pushes Sally out of the way ... opens the door and", "side of the bus.\n\n GANZ\n\n Smashes a side window with the two handguns.\n\n Blasts away.\n\n Cates driving with one hand as he draws his gun.\n\n CATES\n\n Looks up as glass shards sparkle down.\n\n He speeds up ... he is neck and neck with the bus.\n\n Hammond has a clear shot of Billy Bear who gives a side\n glance at him;\n\n Hammond doesn't shoot...\n\n Cates slows down and fires...\n\n", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", "his pistol. Ganz screams with pain, drops his gun... Cates\n again slams him with his pistol, felling him...\n\n GANZ\n\n Slides across the floor.\n\n CATES Senses something ... moves just as Billy appears behind\n and fires at him. The bullet takes out a window. Cates dives\n over the desk. Another bullet chews up the wood.\n\n LOBBY\n\n Frizzy has been standing beside her desk, screaming... Cates'\n move and the accompanying bulletspanic her.", "a mirror above Billy's head. Cates keeps moving closer, gun\n pointed straight ahead. Billy pushes the pistol against\n Rosalie'temple. For the first time, Cates hesitates. They\n face each other across the length of the lobby.\n\n ALGREN\n\n Struggles down the remaining steps into the lobby. He still\n holds his revolver. Dares not raise it towards Billy and\n Rosalie.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Covers Algren from near the entrance. He's confused,", "\n\n With your own gun, cop. How does it feel? Cates leaps into a\n wooden phone booth. Ganz leisurely blasts away at the booth\n with both his and Cates' gun. Two bullets crash into the\n booth. Ganz moves to check inside the booth but sirens are\n ominously near. Ganz finally retreats out the entrance.\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Billy and Rosalie weave their way across street to the\n Cougar. They make a U-turn. Ganz runs", "\n\n CATES\n Shit.\n\n Kehoe next produces several boxes of shells.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n KEHOE\n This cat was real serious about\n his artillery.\n\n An Attendant comes through, hands Kehoe a file. He opens it,\n shows the file to Cates who reads the name under the mug shot.\n\n CATES\n Billy Bear...\n\n KEHOE\n Backup man from the", "Cates.\n\n No response.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)\n Do it, Cates. Goddamn it, do it.\n\n Cates lowers his gun. Finally lets it drop to the floor.\n\n GANZ\n Kick it over here.\n\n Cates does; Ganz picks it up, smiles, looks at Billy.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Get the car.\n\n Then back to Cates as", " Put it down.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Suddenly appears, Rosalie at his side. Billy Bear's .44\n blasts the Patrolman onto his back.\n\n Ganz comes up and scrambles through the screaming patrons.\n He, Billy and Rosalie head toward the escalator. Cates has\n already brought out his .38... Can't get a clean shot through\n the chaos.\n\n Hammond pushes his way through the crowd to Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n ", ".\n\n BRADY\n It's okay, chief. He's just\n joking...\n\n BILLY\n How about the water...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n Firewater, Tonto? Is that what\n you...\n\n Billy whirls, swings at Ganz. Both men roll to the ground.\n\n BRADY\n Hey! Jesus Christ!\n\n THE OTHER GUARDS\n\n Seeing", "re not gonna let 'em hurt me,\n are ya?\n\n BILLY\n He won't hurt you. He ain't gonna\n do nothin' to you, he's just after\n me.\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm tellin' ya, Billy, give it up.\n\n BILLY\n I never was much for bein'\n rehabilitated.\n\n Billy looks at Hammond. With lightning sudden", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "ists her like a\n vise...\n\n HAMMOND\n He means it...\n\n She looks at Cates, knows Hammond's correct.\n\n CASEY\n Don't kill him. Please, just\n don't kill him.\n\n A long moment.\n\n CATES\n You and the other one, you're\n still Billy's girls. You always\n were his girls...\n\n CASEY\n Yeah", "\n\n Hammond starts after Luther. Cates turns, starts to aim at\n Hammond. Hesitates...\n\n PASSENGER WALKWAY\n\n Panic has overtaken everyone as they try to escape the madman\n with the gun.\n\n Ganz and Billy elbow and kick their way through the crowd,\n tugging Rosalie along...\n\n Cates, gun in hand, creates further-panic as he moves after\n Ganz.\n\n Ganz grabs a man beside him.\n\n\n\n\n\n " ], [ " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "three-year sentence.\n\n HAMMOND\n You here to write my life story?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, Reggie. Maybe I just\n need some help.\n\n Cates takes the forensic photo out of his pocket, passes it\n across the table to Hammond. He looks at it, hardly reacts.\n\n HAMMOND\n Henry Wong... My old pal. He's\n looked better...\n\n He passes the photo back", "cells. They don't know who he is, but they\n can smell a cop. Cates stops at Twenty-two, looks inside...\n a bit startled. Obviously, Reggie Hammond has connections and\n taste. The paint is fresh; there's framed prints on the wall\n instead of pin-ups, and the overall feeling is that of a\n graduate school dorm rather than a prison. Cates turns, nods\n to the Guard at the end of the cell block. He throws a switch\n and the door opens.\n\n HAMMOND", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", " shit. What happened?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n We and my pal here have been\n taking it on the chin for the last\n few hours...\n\n Hammond looks at her. He nudges Cates.\n\n ELAINE\n Who the hell are you?\n\n HAMMOND\n Name's Hammond, Reggie Hammond.\n I heard a lot about you. And any\n friend of Jack's is", "CATES\n Too bad, Reggie. I thought maybe\n you were a smart boy. But I guess\n if you were real smart you\n wouldn't be a convict.\n\n He smiles, decides to play his card.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n I can see a second-rater like you\n wouldn't be any help at all goin'\n up against a real hard case like\n Ganz.\n\n Hammond jerks his head", "NIGHT\n\n on a picturesque hill above the Haight. Cates standing near\n the wheel of Hammond's Porsche. Hammond comes down the porch\n steps from the hotel.\n\n CATES\n Okay, reggie, start bustin' my\n chops... Tell me how great you\n were with that chick.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, Jack, real men don't have to\n go in for that macho bullshit ...\n but I was fantastic.", "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", "re going?\n\n CATES\n I'm taking my prisoner back to\n jail.\n\n Hammond looks at Haden.\n\n HAMMOND\n Goin' a little hard on him, aren't\n you?\n\n HADEN\n Go fuck yourself convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n You know for a man, you have very\n pretty brown eyes.\n\n Cates and Hammond walk out.\n\n UNDER", "was sittin' pretty,\n livin' in the high cotton, then\n somebody fingered me for another\n job. ... Some psycho who's out\n there capping people with some\n cop's gun.\n\n CATES\n He's after your money.\n\n HAMMOND\n You catch on real fast...Okay,\n Jack, let's talk deal. How much of\n my money you gonna let me keep?\n\n Cates just looks", ". It'll be here in\n six months when you get out.\n\n HAMMOND\n And you're tellin' me you don't\n want any of this cash?\n\n CATES\n That's right. Not my style,\n Reggie..\n\n HAMMOND\n You are an awesomely weird cop.\n Sure wish there were more like you\n runnin' around out here.\n\n CATES", "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", "\n\n CATES\n Yeah, Guess it must have been a\n slow news day...\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you okay?\n\n CATES\n Sure, okay, fine, no problem...\n See, there's this kid in jail ...\n First thing I got to do is go up\n and see what he knows ...\n\n He points to the file.\n\n ELAINE\n I thought you might come over to\n ", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "your pals\n back to bail you out one more time.\n\n CATES\n They saved your ass, convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n One thing's for sure, Jack.\n That's how you'll tell the story.\n\n Cates dries off his face, starts out of the washroom.\n\n CATES\n I'll even put it in my report that\n way.\n\n The door closes behind Cates. Hammond leans", "CATES\n Let's go, Reggie.\n\n He kisses Elaine.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Do I get to kiss her too?\n\n CATES\n If she's right, and if you don't\n screw up.\n\n They exit the bar.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n EXT. STREET - CHINATOVIN - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond hidden in a doorway which affords", " for, he's after a lot more than\n just gettin' out of jail. And\n whatever it is, you're part of it.\n\n HAMMOND\n I don't know what you're talking\n about. I just wanna see Ganz\n nailed.\n\n CATES\n The bet's off.\n\n Hammond thinks it over..\n\n HAMMOND\n Okay, if I lose, I'll tell you", " if you decide to go that way,\n Jack... I'll ring security.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n PROCESS ROOM - PRISON - DAY\n\n The GUARD leads Hammond to a steel cage. Harmnond's now\n wearing a beautifully tailored plaid suit.\n\n The Guard shouts to ANOTHER GUARD on the far side.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GUARD\n Prisoner G21355 ... Hammond.\n\n " ], [ " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are", "akes the photograph back from Billy and slips it into his\n jacket pocket...\n\n GANZ\n Walden Hotel. Third near Broadway.\n Tell them to ask for ... uh...\n\n He takes the hot credit cards out of his pocket, the name\n embossed on the plastic..\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n G.P. Polson...P.O.L.S.O.N....Just\n be a couple of hours.\n\n Hangs up. The", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown", "She matches Ganz's earlier requirements.Smoking a cigarette,\n staring at the ceiling. Ganz remains on top of the blanket.\n Still in his shirt and pants watching TV. Three sharp knocks\n at the door. Ganz reacts as if he's received an electric\n shock. His hand goes under the pillow... Comes up with an\n automatic. Shoves it hard into Lisa's stomach.\n\n LISA\n Hey...\n\n GANZ\n Shut up.\n\n LIS", "Z\n How hot are they?\n\n HENRY\n Hot? Hey, they're not even room\n temperature.\n\n Ganz snorts derisively.\n\n GANZ\n How ya doin'?\n\n HENRY\n Can't complain.\n\n GANZ\n We got a lot to talk about.\n\n HENRY\n Yeah, old times.\n\n GANZ\n ", "now closer to each other. Ganz holding Hammond and\n the money...\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Okay, cop ... give me your gun and\n I'll let him live. Come on, Cates,\n you're real good at giving up your\n gun.\n\n Cates keeps the same methodical pace...\n\n CATES\n Sure...\n\n Suddenly, he crouches and fires twice. Hammond twists as Ganz\n also fires. G", "anz is hit in the collarbone and driven ten feet\n backward. His grip on Hammond drops, Hammond dives to the\n ground, looks at Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n Jesus Christ, I didn't think you'd\n really do it. You are crazy.\n\n Ganz' gun still in his hand, but his arm useless at his side.\n Cates is frozen in the crouch, ready to fire again.\n\n\n\n\n\n Ganz is in enormous pain holding his bleeding chest... A look", "at Ganz.\n\n FRIZZY\n Sure. We don't get many real\n customers, ya know? Most people\n only stay an hour or two...\n\n Passes a form across. Ganz signs it, Frizzy glances at his\n signature then takes a key from the rack behind.\n\n GANZ\n I want her young. And tall. Nice\n legs. Legs are important. Then,\n real thin. Yeah. NO jeans-A\n", "electric dord. He pulls her to her feet as Ganz moves by.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n BILLY\n (continuing)\n When I say jump, girl, you better\n jump.\n\n\n\n BILLY\n (continuing)\n\n CORRIDOR\n\n Vanzant reaches down, tries the knob. Locked. Algren moves\n back, preparing to kick the door down.\n\n ADJACENT ROOM\n\n Ganz opens the", "\n of childish disbelief passes over his face.\n\n GANZ\n I got hit. I can't believe it. I\n got shot.\n\n CATES\n You're done. End of story.\n\n GANZ\n I ain't gonna beg for my life. It\n ain't cool.\n\n He runs at Cates full-speed, screaming, roaring, then is\n stopped by two more bullets that tear fist-sized holes in", "\n obscuring Luther from Hammond and Cates for a moment. Cates\n steps out to get a better view and suddenly spots Ganz moving\n through the crowd toward Luther. Be looks over at Hammond\n across the station and motions. Then they both start moving\n in on Ganz, trying to intercept him before he gets deeper\n into the crowd.\n\n Ganz moves cautiously through the station. A crumpled\n newspaper held absently in his hand. He scans the faces of\n the commuters and spots Luther. Fails to", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", "doesn't\n know what to do... He keeps hold of Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n\n His eyes catch Algren's...\n\n GANZ\n You. Drop it and we won't kill\n her.\n\n Algren tosses his gun to the floor.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Now, tell him to drop his Goddamn\n piece.\n\n ALGREN\n Do it,", "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", "...\n\n HAMMOND\n\n on his street hears the shot... he runs toward it, down a\n narrow alley between two buildings....\n\n EXT. DOORWAY AT END OF ALLEY\n\n Ganz hears footsteps approach from the opposite direction of\n Cates. They move very close to where be is crouched... it is\n Hammond coming toward him... Ganz suddenly rolls a garbage\n can in his path, dropping him like a stone.\n\n CATES\n\n Comes toward where he expects to find", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", "quickness, he\n reaches and produces a huge Bowie knife from behind his back.\n Billy smiles, laughs...then with a sudden, awful roar, he\n leaps at Hamnond who unflinchingly fires his pistol. The big\n slugs stop Billy cold and throw him back against the bed as\n Rosalie shrieks.\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Ganz, half-dressed, asleep, gun in hand, throws himself off\n the bed, pushes Sally out of the way ... opens the door and", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "petrified.\n\n GANZ\n Stall.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n LISA\n What do you want?\n\n VANZANT\n Police business. Come on, open up.\n\n A smile on Ganz' face. Almost as if he's enjoying the moment.\n\n GANZ\n Keep stallin'.\n\n\n\n LISA\n Alright, I'm coming...hold on.\n\n I'll", "\n Uhh ... Wong, Henry Wong. He was\n in on the same job.\n\n Cates spins the file around so that both Ruth an Kehoe can\n see it, throws the forensic shots down beside it.\n\n CATES\n Tell me that's not the same guy.\n\n KEHOE\n Hey ... Dick Tracy.\n\n RUTH\n Did Ganz have a grudge against his\n old friends?\n\n H" ], [ "police.\n\n CORRIDOR\n\n Cates stops at the landing. Vanzant's body sprawled across\n the hallway. Algren back in the corridor, still losing\n blood... Leans against the wall for support... Lisa staggers\n out of the room, screams. Algren points the gun toward the\n elevator. Indicating where Ganz and Billy have just fled.\n Cates starts back down toward the lobby.\n\n ELEVATOR\n\n Ganz and Billy, guns ready as the carriage jolts downward.", "Skids into a traffic sign, demolishing some newspaper\n machines. Cates curses, tries to start the car. The engine\n won't turn over. He looks at the distant bus.\n\n CATES\n Goddamn! Goddamn! Goddamn!\n\n Pounds on the dash. What's left of the windshield falls in at\n the impact.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Cates at his desk. Hammond seated nearby, now with", "...I'm police.\n\n SECOND COP\n Yeah, sure. Get your hands above\n your head.\n\n He keeps his gun trained on Cates,and Hammond.\n\n CATES\n My gun and badge are over there.\n And I'm too fucking tired to raise\n my hands...\n\n Hammond rubs the side of his face. Cates falls back against\n the patrol car. Still fighting for breath. The First Cop\n lifts Cates' wallet off the", "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", "Algren is\n dead. He cradles Algren's head as he stares at the arriving\n TAC Squad and Patrolmen.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM DAY\n\n Cates walks in. Several Detectives gather around him.\n\n FAT COP\n What happened?\n\n CATES\n Read the report.\n\n OLD COP\n Two cops blown away by a credit\n card booster... that don't figure.\n\n", "\n Leaves.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n CITY STREET\n\n Heavy vehicle and pedestrian traffic. Cates stands near a hot\n dog stand. Elaine joins him. Cates is eating a hot dog and\n studying a police file.\n\n ELAINE\n Great place for lunch.\n\n CATES\n Yeah, one of my favorites.\n\n ELAINE\n You made the front page.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n He hands her a dog.", "ITY OFFICER\n Just put it down real slow.\n\n The train doors close.\n\n CATES\n I'm a policeman, you asshole!\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Don't even try... now drop it\n or - you're all done.\n\n He means it, points the riot gun even closer... The train in\n front of him moves away.\n\n Cates carefully places the .38 on the pavement. Then raises\n his hands in the", "partitions.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n You stay with me.\n\n Cates picks up the phone on the other side of the booking\n desk. Dials ... waits for a response as TWO HOOKERS are led\n past by an Arresting Officer. Hammond gives them the eye.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n This is Jack Cates. Any messages?\n\n ELAINE'S APARTMENT\n\n Elaine is on the kitchen phone,", "Cates, a bit disgusted at the politics of this moment, nods...\n\n CATES\n Fine, it's your show...\n\n The three men move toward the Walden.\n\n WALDEN HOTEL LOBBY\n\n Frizzy Blonde still behind the desk. Still reading the lurid\n paperback. Unaware as Vanzant and Algren approach... She\n looks up as they flash their badges.\n\n FRIZZY\n Aw, you guys were in last week.", ". They step into a\n darkened room.\n\n APARTMENT\n\n Cates takes the .38 from his pocket. He stops near the open\n bedroom doorway. He looks at Hammond and then both men step\n quickly into the room.\n\n CATES\n Police! Nobody move!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Hammond reaches for the light switch. Takes a heavy blow.\n Slumps against the door. A Woman's voice screams out.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)", "name.\n\n CATES\n Mr. Polson, room 27...\n\n ALGREN\n Is he alone?\n\n FRIZZY\n Naw, his sister went up an hour\n ago.\n\n Vanzant turns to Cates.\n\n VANZANT\n Okay, like we said, you stake out\n the lobby.\n\n CATES\n Sure. Great. Whatever.\n\n VANZ", "etted against the light from the street.\n\n HADEN\n (continuing)\n What the bell happened?\n\n CATES\n I lost them, that's what happened.\n\n HADEN\n How did they get away?\n\n CATES\n They ran. As fast as they could.\n Caught a train.\n\n Haden watches the Morgue Personnel wheel out the body of the\n Patrolman.\n\n ", " Somebody steals your gun, you're\n supposed to file a report.\n\n CATES\n Are you gonna tell me about police\n procedure? Do me a favor, don't\n give me a bunch of crap.\n\n YOUNG COP\n I guess when two cops die on\n account of your fuck up you want\n to keep it as quiet as possible...\n\n Cates loses it for a second, lands on him with both hands,\n pushes him against a", "heard\n ... Word's going around that in\n addition to losing Ganz for the\n second time, and in addition to\n Haden busting you back to\n Patrolman, some jig beat the crap\n out of you.\n\n CATES\n Aw, bullshit, you heard wrong.\n\n KEHOE\n Doesn't look like it.\n\n CATES\n Nothing came in for me yet? No\n calls?\n\n", "GROUND PARKING LOT - POLICE STATION - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk stoically along a row of cars, arrive\n at Hammond's Porsche.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, how'd my car get here?\n\n CATES\n I had it impounded. Come on,\n we'll use it for haulin' you back\n to the slam.\n\n HAMMOND\n Back to jail in my", ".\n\n Frizzy turns to find Cates standing beside her. He nudges her\n aside. Starts going throught the register book.\n\n FRIZZY\n Aw, come on, what the shit is this?\n\n ALGREN\n We're looking for a guy going\n under the name Polson...\n\n Frizzy sits back down in defeat.\n\n FRIZZY\n Okay, big deal. Get it over with.\n\n Cates finds the", "BLE\n\n Pulls up near the two men. Cates climbs out of his car and\n walks over to them.\n\n CATES\n Hey, fellas, what's happening?\n Radio said you guys had something\n on...\n\n ALGREN\n Not much, Jack ... Salesman named\n Polson had his credit cards\n lifted...\n\n Algren nods over to the parking lot opposite.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)", "Too bad, it would've covered your\n ass. Now you're in the shit and\n so's the department. In case you\n haven't noticed, this wasn't our\n finest hour... I told you everyone\n was watchin' on this one. Maybe\n you better start thinkin' about\n writin' tickets off a three wheel\n bike.\n\n Cates looks at Haden for a moment...\n\n Turns and walks away.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n", " pissed.\n\n FIRST COP\n I gotta file a..Report tonight\n asshole...\n\n CATES\n Goes with the territory.\n\n He grabs Hammond and they head for the Cadillac.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n ALL-NIGHT GAS STATION\n\n Cadillac parked behind the service area.\n\n RESTROOM\n\n Hammond looks' up at his bruised face in the mirror, then\n washes up. Cates is", " CATES\n No shit.\n\n FAT COP\n They were good cops.\n\n CATES\n They were good cops who fucked up\n and got careless.\n\n A snotty YOUNG COP paces.\n\n YOUNG COP\n That's what you say, Cates...\n\n CATES\n Yeah.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n YOUNG COP\n But that's what" ], [ "\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Looks like you're on your way to\n bein' outta business, redneck...\n Now, let's see what can we fuck\n with next?\n\n The Bartender doesn't have the look of a happy man.\n\n BARTENDER\n Okay, okay. The Indian hangs out\n with a girl down the block. Right\n where Chinatown starts. She lives\n on", "CK CITY\n\n Longhorns mounted over the bar, Rebel Flags, Lone Star Beer,\n armadillo posters. Even the waitresses wear Stetsons.\n Rockabilly pounding from the jukebox. A Cowgirl Stripper is\n doing the grind on a small podium.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n This place don't seem real popular\n with the brothers.\n\n CATES\n My kind of place. I always liked\n ", ", aims a massive haymaker at Hammond.\n Gets a right to the stomach for his trouble.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Now, I said get over there by that\n wall ... You hear me,\n motherfucker...\n\n Looks at the others.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Move it, rednecks. On your feet...\n\n He grabs the next by the arm, yanks him up.\n\n H", " country boys.\n\n Cates smiles, finds a table in the corner. A Cowgirl comes\n over to take his order.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Takes a deep breath, moves toward the bar. Smiles at the good\n ol' boys. They don't smile back. He sits down at the bar.\n\n BARTENDER\n Yeah.\n\n HAMMOND\n Vodka.\n\n BARTENDER\n Maybe you better have a Black\n Russian", "\n anything you want to know...\n\n Cates reaches into his pocket.\n\n CATES\n I'm gonna enjoy this ... here,\n I'll even loan you my badge.\n\n HAMMOND\n I thought you said bullshit and\n experience are all it takes.\n\n He takes the badge anyway as they head for the entrance.\n\n TORCHIE'S WESTERN BAR\n\n They step inside. Hammond reacts to...\n\n REDNE", "top of the hardware store.\n\n Hammond turns, grins at Cates. As far as he's concerned, he's\n won the bet. Cates nods, slips out the door.\n\n HAMMOND\n I don't give a damn about his\n girl...\n\n BARTENDER\n Look, give me a break, you're\n going to have to settle for her\n place. It's the only thing I know.\n\n He looks desperate.", "in town.\n\n Smiles, turns and goes.\n\n\n\n\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n STREET - ACROSS FROM TORCHIE'S - NIGHT\n\n Hammond steps out of the bar. He crosses to Cates by the car.\n\n CATES\n I think you got something for me.\n\n Pause.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n The gun you took off that redneck\n in there.\n\n ", "\n out.\n\n STRAGGLER\n You can't do this. It's against...\n\n ELAINE\n Hey, just fuck off. My friends\n have guns.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates holds up his pistol. The man's eyes widen and he turns\n his angry move toward her into a skedaddle out of the bar.\n Elaine finishes drying a glass and approaches.\n\n ELAINE\n (continuing)\n ", "AMMOND\n (continuing)\n Over there...move your ass. Some\n of you rednecks seem a little hard\n of hearing, so I'll repeat it for\n everybody... I need word on the\n whereabouts of an Indian that goes\n by the name of Billy Bear. It's a\n police matter and you all look\n like you'd just love to\n cooperate...\n\n CATES Quietly sips his beer. The other occupants of the bar\n", "ES\n Some of us citizens are with you\n all the way, Officer.\n\n The Redneck Punks are now spread-eagled against the wall.\n Hammond searches the first. He drops a wallet on the floor\n and moves to the second. A switchblade, some credit cards and\n another wallet fall to the floor. The last Punk has only a\n roll of bills. Hammond holds the money up to his face.\n\n HAMMOND\n You're in trouble, big trouble, so\n", "pals think.\n\n BARTENDER\n I don't give a shit who you ask.\n\n The Bartender walks down toward Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Moves away from the bar. He stops at a booth occupied by\n\n FOUR COWBOY PUNKS,\n\n one a very big man. Hammond grabs him by the arm and pulls\n him up.\n\n HAMMOND\n Up against the wall, cowboy.\n\n The Punk breaks free", "gang clearing brush by the side of the road... Twenty-five\n men in prison fatigues sweating through their mid-afternoon\n labor.\n\n THREE GUARDS\n\n Flank the working prisoners... Mountie hats, shotguns,\n sidearms, sunglasses; they look like they mean it.\n\n HIGHWAY\n\n A battered pickup appears...approaches. Suddenly, it coughs,\n shudders, stalls. A big Blackfoot Indian named BILLY BEAR\n gets out and starts", ".\n\n HAMMOND\n No, man, I think I'll have a vodka.\n\n Hamnond looks around the room.\n\n THE BARTENDER\n\n places a glass in front of him, picks up the dollar as\n Harmond flashes Cates' shield.\n\n HAMMOND\n You know a big Indian named Billy\n Bear? He used to work here.\n\n The Bartender shakes his head, gives him a scowl.\n\n B", " pissed.\n\n FIRST COP\n I gotta file a..Report tonight\n asshole...\n\n CATES\n Goes with the territory.\n\n He grabs Hammond and they head for the Cadillac.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n ALL-NIGHT GAS STATION\n\n Cadillac parked behind the service area.\n\n RESTROOM\n\n Hammond looks' up at his bruised face in the mirror, then\n washes up. Cates is", "\n You better ask around. I'm not\n supposed to be hassled... I got\n friends.\n\n VANZANT\n Hey, park the tongue for a second,\n sweetpants, we just want to search\n a room.\n\n FRIZZY\n Not unless you got a warrant.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n Maybe you should of been a lawyer\n instead of a dumb skirt workin'\n behind a register", "Skids into a traffic sign, demolishing some newspaper\n machines. Cates curses, tries to start the car. The engine\n won't turn over. He looks at the distant bus.\n\n CATES\n Goddamn! Goddamn! Goddamn!\n\n Pounds on the dash. What's left of the windshield falls in at\n the impact.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Cates at his desk. Hammond seated nearby, now with", "\n\n Dancers sliding and jerking in front of them.\n\n SOSNA\n You sure?\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm sure. Everybody here's\n looking at everybody else's ass.\n\n Sosna pops open the suitcase. Lid shielding the contents from\n the patrons...\n\n SOSNA\n I got some real nice merchandise.\n All of it's clean.\n\n Suitcase arranged like q sales", "ATES\n I get the feeling it's going to be\n real long night.\n\n They keep driving.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n MISSION DISTRICT - STREET - NIGHT\n\n The Cadillac drives slowly past a bar called Torchie's.\n Stops at the end of the block.\n\n CATES\n Well?\n\n HAMMOND\n It's a long shot, but...Billy used\n to tend bar here a few years", "men want a drink.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n CHRONICLE RESTAURANT AND BAR - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk in. It's late, the place is almost\n empty. The Bartender is a woman with her back to them\n conferring with a waitress about something.\n\n HAMMOND\n It's late, they're closing...\n\n CATES\n Don't worry about it.\n\n The barmaid turns around to", "HAMMOND\n\n At a back booth...\n\n A MAN (SOSNA) approaches carrying a small suitcase.\n\n HAMMOND\n How you doing, man?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n SOSNA\n Not bad, not bad.\n\n Puts the suitcase down on the table.\n\n SOSNA\n (continuing)\n You want to go outside?\n\n HAMMOND\n Naw, right here's okay." ], [ "it into\n Luther. He falls backwards. Cates looks at Hammond.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n Hey, this works pretty good.\n\n HAMMOND\n Thank you.\n\n CATES\n Want to try it again?\n\n Luther sits up again, glares at Cates.\n\n LUTHER\n Ganz and Billy got my girl,\n Rosalie.\n\n CATES\n I think I met her", "we should pay Luther a\n visit.\n\n HAMMOND\n Let him get some sleep. He's\n going to need it.\n\n They move to the bar.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n They must have set up a meeting\n for the morning; Luther left an 8\n am wake-up and put up the \"Don't\n Disturb\" sign. He's trading his\n girl for the money. All we have", "liked you, Luther. You\n were always a lotta fun to hang\n out with...\n\n Rosalie is rubbing her neck now that she's been released...\n Ganz gestures to Billy.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n We're gonna keep her.\n\n Luther desperately doesn't like this.\n\n LUTHER\n Come on, you can trust me. Please.\n\n GANZ\n You try to mess with us or go to\n", "Cates. She stares at him in disbelief.\n\n STREET LIGHT\n\n Luther checking over his shoulder for shadows, walks down the\n block. Turns into a narrow street.\n\n A BUS STOP\n\n Luther waits, impatient.\n\n Checks his watch.\n\n Looks up and down the street.\n\n He double-checks the bus stop sign over his head.\n\n Just as a bus pulls to a stop, air brakes hissing ...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n LUT", ".\n\n LUTHER LUTHER\n\n slips into the hallway behind Cates... Cates turns just as he\n gets to the kitchen. Luther holds a gun. Cates drops to a\n crouch and aims the .38. Luther whirls and fires at Cates. As\n wood and plaster fly out all round him, Cates makes a running\n dive for the floor. Luther runs out before Cates has\n regainehis feet.\n\n STREET\n\n Luther rushes out the front door and heads toward the\n ", " She slams down the receiver.\n\n SIDEWALK - FRONT OF VROMAN'S - NIGHT\n\n Hammond and Candy exit the rock club. A line of young Punkers\n waiting to get inside... Hammond and Candy are in a tight\n clinch, a little giggly.\n\n CANDY\n So... what did you have in mind?\n\n Suddenly, Hammond sees Luther emerge from the Predmore across\n the street.\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "AN\n\n Cates knocks at the door. Nothing. Knocks again ... no\n response.. From inside, he hears a faint noise but no\n response to the knock. Holding the .38 in one hand, Cates\n tries the knob with the other. The door opens. Cautiously,\n Cates steps inside.\n\n INT. LUTHER'S VICTORIAN\n\n Long corridor ahead. No sign of Luther.\n\n CATES\n\n Moves down the corriaor, checks the rooms off to one sides", "the key, exits the booth. Luther follows\n to an elevated stack of cars. The Attendant throws a switch,\n the stack of cars begins to move.\n\n STREET\n\n Luther drives down the exit ramp in a dated Porsche\n convertible.\n\n The car is covered with a uniform coat of dust, except for\n the windshield which has been wiped hastily clean.\n\n Luther waits for a break in the flow of traffic, drives out.\n\n Another street\n\n Luther turns onto a side street and then suddenly", ", let's get down to it. I did\n my part and got you out. So now\n you tell me where we're goin'?\n\n HAMMOND\n Don't worry, I got a move for ya.\n An awesome move. A guy named\n Luther. Ganz'll be paying him a\n visit. We go to him right away.\n\n CATES\n Luther was part of the gang?\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "HER\n\n Gets in.\n\n Sees that the driver is Billy Bear...\n\n BUS\n\n The bus starts up. Luther hesitates in the front. On the wide\n rear seat is Ganz. Rosalie beside him.\n\n GANZ\n Open your coat. Both sides.\n\n He shows he's not packed.\n\n LUTHER\n Let her go.\n\n GANZ\n First, the money.\n\n Luther takes a step.\n\n ", " Oh no, not now!\n\n Luther moves down the street with the briefcase. Hammond\n pulls Candy back inside Vroman's.\n\n VROMAN'S ROCK CLUB - BAR\n\n Rock group still blasting away... (LOVE SONGS ARE FOR\n CRAZIES - Vocal continues)\n\n Hammond and Candy reappear, knocking aside a waitress about\n to refill Cates' drink.\n\n CATES\n That was quick.\n\n ", " GANZ\n (continuing)\n Just show me.\n\n Luther puts the case on a side seat, opens it for display.\n\n ANOTHER BUS STOP\n\n Commuters look up expectantly. One of two drift toward the\n curb. Jump back in alarm as the bus roars by.\n\n BUS\n\n Ganz is satisfied. Luther closes the case.\n\n LUTHER\n Rosalie, you okay?\n\n GANZ\n What are", "LUTHER - CATES & HAMMOND'S P.O.V.\n\n He goes to the trunk. Rummages there ... picks up a flaming\n red suit.\n\n INT. CADILLAC\n\n CATES\n That Goddamn suit is yours?\n\n Hammond winces.\n\n HAMMOND\n That was in style a couple years\n back, man.\n\n CATES\n Right. if you ever switch from\n armed", "ain't his fairy\n godmother... now I'm looking for\n Ganz...where is he?\n\n LUTHER\n Haven't seen him for years. That's\n the truth.\n\n CATES\n You just took a shot at me,\n asshole. I think you do know where\n he is.\n\n LUTHER\n Who gives a fuck what you think?\n\n Cates grabs the still open Cadillac door, slams", "\n\n Luther moves further into the station. Cates and Hammond\n enter. They keep Luther fixed between them, 50 feet ahead.\n Luther seems to be wandering He walks through the shop area\n and back toward the escalator. Hammond remains near the\n arcade while Cates blends in with the commuters. Luther puts\n the briefcase down at his feet and leans against a counter.\n Next to him, a loud troop of Boy Scouts marches by. A crowd\n of people from the train area below flows through the lobby", " the cops, I promise you, I'll put\n holes in her you wouldn't believe.\n\n He smiles at Luther, pinches him on the cheek, shoves him out\n of the car.\n\n LUTHER\n\n Stands shivering as it powers away.\n\n WALDEN HOTEL - DAY\n\n A small hotel on one of the quiet streets behind Union Square.\n\n A GREEN COUGAR\n\n Pulls up across the street.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n INT. CAR", "She matches Ganz's earlier requirements.Smoking a cigarette,\n staring at the ceiling. Ganz remains on top of the blanket.\n Still in his shirt and pants watching TV. Three sharp knocks\n at the door. Ganz reacts as if he's received an electric\n shock. His hand goes under the pillow... Comes up with an\n automatic. Shoves it hard into Lisa's stomach.\n\n LISA\n Hey...\n\n GANZ\n Shut up.\n\n LIS", ". Now tell us\n something we don't know, like\n where they stashed her.\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know.\n\n Cates slams the car door agains him again.\n\n HAMMOND\n I gotta tell you he's having a\n ball with this car door, Luther...\n You'd better think of somethin' to\n tell him.\n\n Luther besitates...flashes a look at Hammond, who sends him", "those.\n\n Cates smiles.\n\n CATES\n Sure thing, asshole.\n\n Handcuffs Hammond to the door handle. Grabs the car keys.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n You just hang on. And hope this\n big move of yours turns out to be\n something. Opens the car door.\n\n\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n LUTHER'S VICTORI", "notice Cates and\n Hammond closing in on him from two directions.\n\n A PATROLMAN comes up. Starts chatting amiably with a Boy\n Scout next to Luther. Ganz hesitates in his approach. He\n motions Luther to move awaye, but Luther starts to panic when\n he sees Cates and Hammond closing in...\n\n Ganz reacts to Luther, turns and spots the two men. He makes\n an immediate break for open ground. The Patrolman sees Ganz\n start to run. The newspaper is thrown" ], [ "the key, exits the booth. Luther follows\n to an elevated stack of cars. The Attendant throws a switch,\n the stack of cars begins to move.\n\n STREET\n\n Luther drives down the exit ramp in a dated Porsche\n convertible.\n\n The car is covered with a uniform coat of dust, except for\n the windshield which has been wiped hastily clean.\n\n Luther waits for a break in the flow of traffic, drives out.\n\n Another street\n\n Luther turns onto a side street and then suddenly", "of the car.\n\n Stands on the sidewalk.\n\n Stretches.\n\n Then gets into the back seats.\n\n HAMMOND\n Since you're wired on benniest you\n get to stay up and stare at the\n building. I'm tired, so I'm going\n to sleep. They take Sunday off.\n Place opens at seven o'clock\n Monday morning. Wake me up at a\n quarter till...\n\n Cates stares at the", "busy.\n\n The Attendant opens a key file, begins rummaging in it.\n\n ATTENDANT\n We don't wash 'em, ya know.\n\n LUTHER\n How about chargin' the battery?\n\n ATTENDANT\n That we do. And we put air in the\n tires. I'll even sell you some gas\n if you need it.\n\n LUTHER\n Great, just great.\n\n The Attendant finds", ".\n\n THE CITY\n\n Beyond the skyline, grey streaks of dawn etch the sky.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n The Cadillac is pulled up facing the streets down the block\n from the parking sections Cates walks in through the lot\n entrance. Threads his way between the lines of parked\n vehicles Tired and haggard, he carries a paper bag filled\n with quick-order food.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CADILLAC\n\n Hammond stretches on the back seat. Cates slams", " the cops, I promise you, I'll put\n holes in her you wouldn't believe.\n\n He smiles at Luther, pinches him on the cheek, shoves him out\n of the car.\n\n LUTHER\n\n Stands shivering as it powers away.\n\n WALDEN HOTEL - DAY\n\n A small hotel on one of the quiet streets behind Union Square.\n\n A GREEN COUGAR\n\n Pulls up across the street.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n INT. CAR", "D\n You just drove by it.\n\n The Cadillac makes a screeching U-turn,i swings into the curb.\n\n Cates leans out, looks at...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n PARKING BUILDING\n\n Narrow, multi-storied, with a garage-like opening and\n signals... proclaiming 'Weekly-Monthly-Long Term.\"\n\n CADILLAC\n\n CATES\n Okay, now what?\n\n Hammond gets out", "Cate's\n Cadillac appears ... starts to tail the Porsche.\n\n CADILLAC\n\n Cates follows Luther through several turns.\n\n\n\n\n\n The Porsche jerks whenever it speeds up or slows down.\n\n HAMMOND\n Jesus Christ, look at all the dust\n on my car...why in the hell don't\n he take it to a car wash?\n\n CATES\n Didn't know you darker people went\n in", "AIL - DAY\n\n\n\n CATES LEADS HAMMOND OUT. THEY HEAD FOR CATES' BATTERED\n CADILLAC.\n\n HAMMOND\n This your car, man?\n\n CATES\n Yeah.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n It looks like you bought it off\n one of the brothers.\n\n As they approach the car...\n\n CATES\n Okay", "for foreign jobs.\n\n HAMMOND\n I had no choice. Some white\n asshole bought the last piece of\n shit skyblue Cadillac.\n\n ANOTHER STREET\n\n The Caddy follows the Porsche.\n\n INT. CADDY\n\n As they follow Luther.\n\n CATES\n You'd think the guy'd be smart\n enough to know he was being tailed.\n\n HAMMOND\n Tryin' to", "continuing)\n Where's the goddamn car?\n\n HAMMOND\n You're a real case, you know that,\n Jack?\n\n Smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n This'll show you how smart I am.\n I got it parked.\n\n CATES\n ...For three years? Let's hope it\n wasn't a tow-away zone.\n\n HAMMON", "\n\n Tha car arrives in front of the hotel.\n\n GANZ\n Nice place, huh?\n\n Rosalie is very nervous.\n\n ROSALIE\n What are you gonna do to me in\n there?\n\n Ganz gives her a casual smile.\n\n GANZ\n Maybe that's where I'm gonna cut\n your throat.\n\n BILLY\n He's just kiddin', you just keep\n do", "GROUND PARKING LOT - POLICE STATION - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk stoically along a row of cars, arrive\n at Hammond's Porsche.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, how'd my car get here?\n\n CATES\n I had it impounded. Come on,\n we'll use it for haulin' you back\n to the slam.\n\n HAMMOND\n Back to jail in my", "Skids into a traffic sign, demolishing some newspaper\n machines. Cates curses, tries to start the car. The engine\n won't turn over. He looks at the distant bus.\n\n CATES\n Goddamn! Goddamn! Goddamn!\n\n Pounds on the dash. What's left of the windshield falls in at\n the impact.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Cates at his desk. Hammond seated nearby, now with", "\n\n Luther moves further into the station. Cates and Hammond\n enter. They keep Luther fixed between them, 50 feet ahead.\n Luther seems to be wandering He walks through the shop area\n and back toward the escalator. Hammond remains near the\n arcade while Cates blends in with the commuters. Luther puts\n the briefcase down at his feet and leans against a counter.\n Next to him, a loud troop of Boy Scouts marches by. A crowd\n of people from the train area below flows through the lobby", "\n There's your God-damn dinner. Now,\n let's go.\n\n They move toward a row of parked cars.\n\n AT THE CADDY\n\n HAMMOND\n Who'd you call on the phone back\n at the booking station?\n\n CATES\n Just get in the car and keep your\n mouth shut.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Hammond gets in the car as Cates readjusts Elaine's scarf on\n the mirror", "comic book.\n\n ATTENDANT\n Yeah?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n LUTHER\n I want to pick up my car.\n\n He passes across a faded form.\n\n ATTENDANT\n Name?\n\n LUTHER\n Hammond.\n\n The Attendant examines the form, surprised.\n\n ATTENDANT\n This is three years old.\n\n LUTHER\n Yeah, I've been", "Cadillac.\n\n HAMMOND\n\n Watches as Luther heads down the sidewaltoward him. As he\n starts to pass by... Hammond steps out suddenly... Flattens\n him with the car door. Luther drops, stunned. Hammond, still\n restricted by being cuffed to the door handle, reaches and\n grabs his pistol.\n\n CATES\n Hammond, Drop the Goddamn gun.\n\n Hammond looks up. He sprints across the pavement. Aims his\n gun", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", "\n\n Dancers sliding and jerking in front of them.\n\n SOSNA\n You sure?\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm sure. Everybody here's\n looking at everybody else's ass.\n\n Sosna pops open the suitcase. Lid shielding the contents from\n the patrons...\n\n SOSNA\n I got some real nice merchandise.\n All of it's clean.\n\n Suitcase arranged like q sales", "\n I feel like I let you down.\n\n CATES\n Naw, you didn't let me down. It\n was a long shot all the way. We\n gave 'em a good run at it.\n\n HAMMOND\n Yeah, but we didn't get 'em.\n\n They get in and drive off.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT\n\n The Porsche blasts by ... These" ], [ "hold...\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, wait...\n\n CATES\n Just a second, that's all!\n\n He hits the bold button, starts rummaging through the desk.\n Paperwork scatters in all directions.\n\n Kehoe watches him in silence for awhile then leaves. Cates\n begins to dial.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Hammond... you son of a bitch,\n where are you?\n\n Listens", "-looking bureaucrat named BOB.\n\n CATES\n Let me borrow your pen, Bob.\n\n Handed over by Bob.\n\n BOB\n You going to use your own name?\n\n CATES\n Shit, no.\n\n CANDY\n\n He begins signing the documents.\n\n BOB\n Jack, just remember one thing. If\n all this comes down, you don't\n know me. I'm", "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", "BLE\n\n Pulls up near the two men. Cates climbs out of his car and\n walks over to them.\n\n CATES\n Hey, fellas, what's happening?\n Radio said you guys had something\n on...\n\n ALGREN\n Not much, Jack ... Salesman named\n Polson had his credit cards\n lifted...\n\n Algren nods over to the parking lot opposite.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)", ".\n\n CATES\n You? Don't make me laugh. You\n can't take care of shit. You've\n been dicking me around since we\n started on this turd-hunt. All\n you're good for is games... So\n far, what I got outta you is\n nothin'...\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm impressed with you too, Jack\n you did a real good job of busting\n", "was sittin' pretty,\n livin' in the high cotton, then\n somebody fingered me for another\n job. ... Some psycho who's out\n there capping people with some\n cop's gun.\n\n CATES\n He's after your money.\n\n HAMMOND\n You catch on real fast...Okay,\n Jack, let's talk deal. How much of\n my money you gonna let me keep?\n\n Cates just looks", "good at your job don't\n explain everything, Jack ...\n\n CATES\n Yeah. Guess not.\n\n Hammond gives him a big smile.\n\n HAMMOND\n As long as you're feeling like Abe\n Lincoln, how about payin' me on\n our bet? We got time and all this\n pussy around here's drivin' me\n crazy. See that one over there,\n the one I was with...\n\n He nod", " yours from the Vice Squad wants\n you to call him.\n\n CATES\n What?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you still there?\n\n KEHOE\n Yeah. He said he rousted a bar\n with you last night.\n\n CATES\n Jesus Christ. Why the hell didn't\n you tell me before?\n\n KEHOE\n I'm not paid to take your personal\n", "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", " What gang you talkin' about, Jack?\n\n CATES\n I can read a police file,\n shithead, and quit calling me Jack.\n\n HAMMOND\n Just an expression man, don't mean\n nothin'.\n\n Cates gets behind the wheel and kicks the engine over.\n\n CATES\n I don't give a damn. It happens\n to be my name.\n\n HAMMOND\n Then what", "\n\n CATES\n Yeah, Guess it must have been a\n slow news day...\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you okay?\n\n CATES\n Sure, okay, fine, no problem...\n See, there's this kid in jail ...\n First thing I got to do is go up\n and see what he knows ...\n\n He points to the file.\n\n ELAINE\n I thought you might come over to\n ", "\n No, you don't. If I ever get word\n of you steppin' over the line\n again, I'm gonna ventilate that\n suit of yours.\n\n HAMMOND\n Spare met Jack. I'm into legit\n investments from here on in.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates gives him a very skeptical look, as they head for the\n car.\n\n Hammond gets in behind the wheel, Cates on the passenger side.\n\n ", "hot dog on\n this one, Jack.\n\n CATES\n Being a hot dog's worked pretty\n well for me so far... Besides, I\n got a lead...\n\n HADEN\n Okay. You're not a team player.\n You gotta do things your own way.\n Fine. Nail this guy and make us\n all look good. But you better\n watch your ass. If you screw up,\n I can promise you, you", " shit. What happened?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n We and my pal here have been\n taking it on the chin for the last\n few hours...\n\n Hammond looks at her. He nudges Cates.\n\n ELAINE\n Who the hell are you?\n\n HAMMOND\n Name's Hammond, Reggie Hammond.\n I heard a lot about you. And any\n friend of Jack's is", "second.\n\n CATES\n You did pick a real strange time\n to go and be brave all on your\n own...\n\n Hammond smiles.\n\n HAMMOND\n Just tryin' to get the money,\n Jack. Just tryin' to build up a\n few points on that merit system.\n\n Cates smiles back, picks up the black bag as they move off.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n ELAINE'S BATHROOM\n", ".\n\n HAMMOND\n Must of been your lady friend...\n\n Cates frowns at him.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n You really do have onoe, huh,\n Jack... what's her problem besides\n you?\n\n CATES\n She's got the same complaint as\n half the Goddamn population. She\n can't get the job she's trained\n for and it pisses", " calls. He was in some bar. .. off\n duty.\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates interrupts.\n\n CATES\n The number ... what's the Goddamn\n number?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack? What was that?\n\n KEHOE\n Find it yourself. It's on my desk.\n\n Cates speaks back into the receiver.\n\n CATES\n Elaine, I gotta put you on", "\n\n Dancers sliding and jerking in front of them.\n\n SOSNA\n You sure?\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm sure. Everybody here's\n looking at everybody else's ass.\n\n Sosna pops open the suitcase. Lid shielding the contents from\n the patrons...\n\n SOSNA\n I got some real nice merchandise.\n All of it's clean.\n\n Suitcase arranged like q sales", " Elaine, look, I'm in the middle of\n sone stuff right now... I'm not\n gonna have time to come by. I\n don't know when I can get there.\n\n Her face falls. Making the offer was hard enough.\n\n ELAINE\n Come on, Jack ... you're making me\n work too Goddamn hard at this...\n\n Jack is very irritated by this turn of events.\n\n CATES\n Listen, Goddamn it", ", Cates. I've been\n waitin' three years for that. I\n don't think it's fair, man. What\n about the merit system.? You were\n gonnna give me a few thousand.\n\n CATES\n There's nothin' to talk about.\n\n Another long exchange of looks. Then be hands Hammond the\n keys to the trunk.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n It's your money" ], [ "She dashes for\n safety... Cates gets to his feet behind cover. Sees Billy\n holding Rosalie by the throat. Frizzy begins to scream.\n\n GANZ\n He'll blow her goddamn head off.\n\n Cates doesn't miss a beat. He slowly levels his .44. Takes\n careful aim and starts to fire at Billy.\n\n ROSALIE\n No. No.\n\n Cates' shot narrowly misses Rosalie. The bullet smashes into\n ", "Billy runs out the entrance with\n Rosalie.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Your gun's just like mine.\n\n He's going to kill Cates. But first be glances at Algren.\n Then, almost casually, shoots him twice with Cates' .44.\n Algren staggers back. Dead before he hits the floor. Cates\n twists sideways just as Ganz fires. The bullet misses. Again\n Frizzy starts screaming and struggling. Ganz swipes", ".\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n There is a bed and Rosalie, undressed, is in it... Billy is\n seated on the edge of it... pants on, shirt off, pulling on\n his boots. Suddenly, Hammond is pointing a gun at him...\n\n HAMMOND\n Give it up, Billy. You got no\n shot at it.\n\n Billy stands.\n\n ROSALIE\n Don't let him hurt met Billy.\n You'", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "quickness, he\n reaches and produces a huge Bowie knife from behind his back.\n Billy smiles, laughs...then with a sudden, awful roar, he\n leaps at Hamnond who unflinchingly fires his pistol. The big\n slugs stop Billy cold and throw him back against the bed as\n Rosalie shrieks.\n\n INT. BACK BEDROOM\n\n Ganz, half-dressed, asleep, gun in hand, throws himself off\n the bed, pushes Sally out of the way ... opens the door and", "has spent the night.\n Billy walks over to Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Hey, what about me?\n\n GANZ\n And I need one more for my pal.\n Yeah. Make her an Indian. No, not\n a turban, you know, a squaw.\n\n Billy smiles, takes the Polaroid...\n\n POLAROID\n\n A close shot of the dead man with the bullet hole in his\n forehead.\n\n GANZ\n\n T", "a mirror above Billy's head. Cates keeps moving closer, gun\n pointed straight ahead. Billy pushes the pistol against\n Rosalie'temple. For the first time, Cates hesitates. They\n face each other across the length of the lobby.\n\n ALGREN\n\n Struggles down the remaining steps into the lobby. He still\n holds his revolver. Dares not raise it towards Billy and\n Rosalie.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Covers Algren from near the entrance. He's confused,", "side of the bus.\n\n GANZ\n\n Smashes a side window with the two handguns.\n\n Blasts away.\n\n Cates driving with one hand as he draws his gun.\n\n CATES\n\n Looks up as glass shards sparkle down.\n\n He speeds up ... he is neck and neck with the bus.\n\n Hammond has a clear shot of Billy Bear who gives a side\n glance at him;\n\n Hammond doesn't shoot...\n\n Cates slows down and fires...\n\n", " Billy is hit in the shoulder. Ganz runs up and fires again...\n Hammond is hit in the arm. Cates grabs Hammond by the shirt.\n Yanks him close. Throws the wheel over ...\n\n CADDY\n\n Swerves as bullets pepper the passenger side. Stuffing flies\n out of Hammondis still warm seat. The right hand windows\n explode. Then the Caddy spins out.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n THE BUS\n\n Roars away...\n\n THE CADDY\n\n ", "lights. The light goes red, a train\n roars up and the doors hiss open.\n\n Billy and Ganz fight through the passengers getting off the\n train, jump on board; Billy pulls Rosalie behind him.\n\n CATES\n\n Running for the doors...\n\n Suddenly, a SECURITY OFFICER appears, riot gun in hand.\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Freeze!\n\n CATES\n No! No! There they are!\n\n SECUR", "Cates.\n\n No response.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)\n Do it, Cates. Goddamn it, do it.\n\n Cates lowers his gun. Finally lets it drop to the floor.\n\n GANZ\n Kick it over here.\n\n Cates does; Ganz picks it up, smiles, looks at Billy.\n\n GANZ\n (continuing)\n Get the car.\n\n Then back to Cates as", "his pistol. Ganz screams with pain, drops his gun... Cates\n again slams him with his pistol, felling him...\n\n GANZ\n\n Slides across the floor.\n\n CATES Senses something ... moves just as Billy appears behind\n and fires at him. The bullet takes out a window. Cates dives\n over the desk. Another bullet chews up the wood.\n\n LOBBY\n\n Frizzy has been standing beside her desk, screaming... Cates'\n move and the accompanying bulletspanic her.", "ists her like a\n vise...\n\n HAMMOND\n He means it...\n\n She looks at Cates, knows Hammond's correct.\n\n CASEY\n Don't kill him. Please, just\n don't kill him.\n\n A long moment.\n\n CATES\n You and the other one, you're\n still Billy's girls. You always\n were his girls...\n\n CASEY\n Yeah", " Put it down.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Suddenly appears, Rosalie at his side. Billy Bear's .44\n blasts the Patrolman onto his back.\n\n Ganz comes up and scrambles through the screaming patrons.\n He, Billy and Rosalie head toward the escalator. Cates has\n already brought out his .38... Can't get a clean shot through\n the chaos.\n\n Hammond pushes his way through the crowd to Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n ", "\n\n With your own gun, cop. How does it feel? Cates leaps into a\n wooden phone booth. Ganz leisurely blasts away at the booth\n with both his and Cates' gun. Two bullets crash into the\n booth. Ganz moves to check inside the booth but sirens are\n ominously near. Ganz finally retreats out the entrance.\n\n\n\n\n\n STREET\n\n Billy and Rosalie weave their way across street to the\n Cougar. They make a U-turn. Ganz runs", " and futilely tries to hit him....He throws her down on the\n bed as if she were a doll ... He goes to the window...\n\n EXT. FIRE ESCAPE\n\n Ganz peels down the fire escapes hits the ground. He stops\n for a second... Then Cates appears, Ganz fires a shot then\n starts to run. Cates keeps coming...\n\n INT. FIRST BEDROOM\n\n Hammond hears the gunfire, runs out of the room...\n\n CATES\n\n ", "\n\n Hammond starts after Luther. Cates turns, starts to aim at\n Hammond. Hesitates...\n\n PASSENGER WALKWAY\n\n Panic has overtaken everyone as they try to escape the madman\n with the gun.\n\n Ganz and Billy elbow and kick their way through the crowd,\n tugging Rosalie along...\n\n Cates, gun in hand, creates further-panic as he moves after\n Ganz.\n\n Ganz grabs a man beside him.\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "re not gonna let 'em hurt me,\n are ya?\n\n BILLY\n He won't hurt you. He ain't gonna\n do nothin' to you, he's just after\n me.\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n I'm tellin' ya, Billy, give it up.\n\n BILLY\n I never was much for bein'\n rehabilitated.\n\n Billy looks at Hammond. With lightning sudden", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", ".\n\n BRADY\n It's okay, chief. He's just\n joking...\n\n BILLY\n How about the water...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n Firewater, Tonto? Is that what\n you...\n\n Billy whirls, swings at Ganz. Both men roll to the ground.\n\n BRADY\n Hey! Jesus Christ!\n\n THE OTHER GUARDS\n\n Seeing" ], [ "cells. They don't know who he is, but they\n can smell a cop. Cates stops at Twenty-two, looks inside...\n a bit startled. Obviously, Reggie Hammond has connections and\n taste. The paint is fresh; there's framed prints on the wall\n instead of pin-ups, and the overall feeling is that of a\n graduate school dorm rather than a prison. Cates turns, nods\n to the Guard at the end of the cell block. He throws a switch\n and the door opens.\n\n HAMMOND", " street.\n\n CATES\n Didn't work out that way. He\n busted out with a big Indian.\n They capped two guards on a road\n gang. Nice meeting you Reggie.\n\n He turns, goes out. The door clangs behind him. Hammond jumps\n up and bangs on the bars, shouts at Cates' back...\n\n HAMMOND\n Cates, Come back here.\n\n Cates turns, saunters back, le", "back. Down the other\n corridor.\n\n Cates looks at Reggie.\n\n CATES\n Looks like you're gonna get your\n chance.\n\n They move upward...\n\n INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n Cates is stealthily going to the end of the second corridor\n of the kitchen and living room area. That corridor turns at\n a sharp angle and goes to the back. Hammond is at the very\n front of that first corridor..at a door ... he shoves it back", "three-year sentence.\n\n HAMMOND\n You here to write my life story?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, Reggie. Maybe I just\n need some help.\n\n Cates takes the forensic photo out of his pocket, passes it\n across the table to Hammond. He looks at it, hardly reacts.\n\n HAMMOND\n Henry Wong... My old pal. He's\n looked better...\n\n He passes the photo back", " They two men walk toward the Cadillac.\n\n CATES\n Okay, Reggie, I'm done playing\n around. I want to know what's\n going on and I'm going to beat the\n living shit out of you until you\n tell me.\n\n Hammond goes into a street rap.\n\n HAMMOND\n You beat the shit out of me?\n Don't make me laugh, sucker. You\n don't know how I", " HAMMOND\n When you been in prison three\n years, it don't take long. Let's\n go.\n\n CATES\n Why?\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther's on the move...\n\n Cates jumps up, runs out. Hammond looks at Candy.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n I'll be back. Trust me.\n\n He kisses her.\n\n Runs off after", "re going?\n\n CATES\n I'm taking my prisoner back to\n jail.\n\n Hammond looks at Haden.\n\n HAMMOND\n Goin' a little hard on him, aren't\n you?\n\n HADEN\n Go fuck yourself convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n You know for a man, you have very\n pretty brown eyes.\n\n Cates and Hammond walk out.\n\n UNDER", "CATES\n Let's go, Reggie.\n\n He kisses Elaine.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Do I get to kiss her too?\n\n CATES\n If she's right, and if you don't\n screw up.\n\n They exit the bar.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n EXT. STREET - CHINATOVIN - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond hidden in a doorway which affords", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "CATES\n Too bad, Reggie. I thought maybe\n you were a smart boy. But I guess\n if you were real smart you\n wouldn't be a convict.\n\n He smiles, decides to play his card.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n I can see a second-rater like you\n wouldn't be any help at all goin'\n up against a real hard case like\n Ganz.\n\n Hammond jerks his head", " nothin' but the short end of the\n stick.\n\n Cates looks over at Hammond.\n\n CATES\n Let's go.\n\n HAMMOND\n Wait a minute. Maybe these ladies\n would like to go a few laps with\n us. How about it? I been nearly\n three years in prison and...\n\n SALLY\n Fuck off.\n\n CATES\n Come on...\n\n Hann", "out with his own pistol, caps the Second\n Guard.\n\n THIRD GUARD\n\n Still forty yards away... In mid-draw, be howls as a bullet\n from Ganz breaks the nearby ground. He fires, then turns and\n runs for the prison bus.\n\n GANZ\n\n Smiling, fires twice. but the range is too great for pistol\n work...\n\n THE OTHER PRISONERS\n\n Watching....Then they all scatter in different directions...\n\n GANZ\n\n Hefts his", ". It'll be here in\n six months when you get out.\n\n HAMMOND\n And you're tellin' me you don't\n want any of this cash?\n\n CATES\n That's right. Not my style,\n Reggie..\n\n HAMMOND\n You are an awesomely weird cop.\n Sure wish there were more like you\n runnin' around out here.\n\n CATES", "GROUND PARKING LOT - POLICE STATION - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk stoically along a row of cars, arrive\n at Hammond's Porsche.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, how'd my car get here?\n\n CATES\n I had it impounded. Come on,\n we'll use it for haulin' you back\n to the slam.\n\n HAMMOND\n Back to jail in my", "the commotion, they run toward it.\n\n GANZ AND BILLY\n\n As they struggle, Billy slips a pistol into Ganz' hand.\n\n BRADY\n That's a state prisoner,\n asshole...! Back off...\n\n ROADSIDE\n\n Brady pulls Billy away from Ganz just 'as one of the other\n officers arrives... Ganz suddenly whips out a pistol, shoots\n Brady at point-blank range. Before the other Guards can even\n react, Billy comes", "uing)\n Instead of worryin' about Reggie,\n you better worry about me...\n\n LUTHER\n Don't give me this, we were\n partners.\n\n GANZ\n Billy, go ahead, break it...\n\n LUTHER\n No! Don't kill her. I can get you\n the money.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n When?\n\n LUTHER\n I can", "\n Long moment. Then Hammond smiles and tosses him Luther's\n pistol. Luther groans. Cates puts his foot on Luther's belly\n and pulls himself into a standing position, cuffs him.\n\n HAMMOND\n Luther, I always told you the\n physical side of life wasn't your\n gig. Look at you, all messed\n up... Course you never were much\n in the snappy dresser department,\n were you?\n\n Cates now has Luther", "uing)\n My name's Reggie Hammond.\n\n Big personality smile.\n\n RITA\n So what?\n\n She turns away as he takes a drink. He looks at another\n pretty girl (ANGELA).\n\n\n\n\n\n\n HAMMOND\n Hi there. I'm Reggie Hammond.\n\n ANGELA\n I'm with somebody.\n\n She turns away.\n\n HAMMOND\n This ain'", "\n There's your God-damn dinner. Now,\n let's go.\n\n They move toward a row of parked cars.\n\n AT THE CADDY\n\n HAMMOND\n Who'd you call on the phone back\n at the booking station?\n\n CATES\n Just get in the car and keep your\n mouth shut.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Hammond gets in the car as Cates readjusts Elaine's scarf on\n the mirror", "at him.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n We split 50-50?\n\n CATES\n Not likely, convict.\n\n HAMMOND\n You gonna let me keep any of it?\n\n CATES\n Depends on how things work out. I\n believe in the merit system. So\n far you haven't built up any\n points.\n\n He smiles.\n\n H" ], [ "Billy Bear closes in on him.\n\n BILLY\n Say, buddy, my engine's\n overheating and I got 30 miles\n before the next station... Could\n I get some water out of your\n cooler?\n\n Ganz leans on his hoe, speaks as Billy passes...\n\n GANZ\n Maybe you shoulda stole a better\n truck, Tonto.\n\n BILLY\n You got a real big mouth, convict", "gang clearing brush by the side of the road... Twenty-five\n men in prison fatigues sweating through their mid-afternoon\n labor.\n\n THREE GUARDS\n\n Flank the working prisoners... Mountie hats, shotguns,\n sidearms, sunglasses; they look like they mean it.\n\n HIGHWAY\n\n A battered pickup appears...approaches. Suddenly, it coughs,\n shudders, stalls. A big Blackfoot Indian named BILLY BEAR\n gets out and starts", "a mirror above Billy's head. Cates keeps moving closer, gun\n pointed straight ahead. Billy pushes the pistol against\n Rosalie'temple. For the first time, Cates hesitates. They\n face each other across the length of the lobby.\n\n ALGREN\n\n Struggles down the remaining steps into the lobby. He still\n holds his revolver. Dares not raise it towards Billy and\n Rosalie.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Covers Algren from near the entrance. He's confused,", ".\n\n HAMMOND\n No, man, I think I'll have a vodka.\n\n Hamnond looks around the room.\n\n THE BARTENDER\n\n places a glass in front of him, picks up the dollar as\n Harmond flashes Cates' shield.\n\n HAMMOND\n You know a big Indian named Billy\n Bear? He used to work here.\n\n The Bartender shakes his head, gives him a scowl.\n\n B", " And you\n fucked' it up.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n Yeah, well, my ass bleeds for you.\n And I didn't get you out so you\n could go on a Goddamn \"trim\"\n hunt... stop moaning.\n\n HAMMOND\n Speakin' of moans my Stomach is\n startin' to growl.\n\n CATES\n We eat when I say we eat.", "AMMOND\n (continuing)\n Over there...move your ass. Some\n of you rednecks seem a little hard\n of hearing, so I'll repeat it for\n everybody... I need word on the\n whereabouts of an Indian that goes\n by the name of Billy Bear. It's a\n police matter and you all look\n like you'd just love to\n cooperate...\n\n CATES Quietly sips his beer. The other occupants of the bar\n", ".\n\n BRADY\n It's okay, chief. He's just\n joking...\n\n BILLY\n How about the water...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n GANZ\n Firewater, Tonto? Is that what\n you...\n\n Billy whirls, swings at Ganz. Both men roll to the ground.\n\n BRADY\n Hey! Jesus Christ!\n\n THE OTHER GUARDS\n\n Seeing", " dress? a nice summer dress. You\n know I want her fresh... I'll tell\n you why, because I been hoein'\n weeds and makin' license plates\n for a couple of years... Yeah, I\n know you don't get it...\n\n\n\n\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Sees a couple approaching, he shoves the dead man down on the\n bench and spreads the newspaper over his head. The body now\n looking like a typical park bum who", "\n Ganz and warn him. Ain't you,\n motherfucker?\n\n Luther makes a play toward Hammond, who laughs, doesn't even\n flinch.\n\n HAMMOND\n (continuing)\n Luther, are you angry with me?\n\n Cates wrestles Luther into the back seat, turns to Hammond.\n\n CATES\n I don't know what the hell you're\n smiling about, watermelon. Your\n big", "side of the bus.\n\n GANZ\n\n Smashes a side window with the two handguns.\n\n Blasts away.\n\n Cates driving with one hand as he draws his gun.\n\n CATES\n\n Looks up as glass shards sparkle down.\n\n He speeds up ... he is neck and neck with the bus.\n\n Hammond has a clear shot of Billy Bear who gives a side\n glance at him;\n\n Hammond doesn't shoot...\n\n Cates slows down and fires...\n\n", "doors to the closed trailer open. A\n station wagon parked across the road. The pickup appears,\n approaches the semi, slows down and drives up the ramp into\n the van. Ganz and Billy jump out, shove the ramp up inside\n the truck and close the big doors.\n\n STATION WAGON\n\n Ganz and Billy climb inside ancl roar off, back in the\n direction of the road gang.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Takes off his hat, puts on a baseball cap and sunglasses...\n\n", " Put it down.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n Suddenly appears, Rosalie at his side. Billy Bear's .44\n blasts the Patrolman onto his back.\n\n Ganz comes up and scrambles through the screaming patrons.\n He, Billy and Rosalie head toward the escalator. Cates has\n already brought out his .38... Can't get a clean shot through\n the chaos.\n\n Hammond pushes his way through the crowd to Cates.\n\n HAMMOND\n ", ", or maybe just\n because I'm too tired to argue...\n\n HAMMOND\n You sure that's the reason?\n\n Pause.\n\n CATES\n Thanks for callin' in... and I\n guess Maybe... Look, I'm sorry I\n called you Watermellon nigger...\n those kinds of things. I was just\n leanin' on ya, doin' my job.\n\n HAMMOND\n Bein'", "ya want me to do, go out and\n steal for the money? I hated the\n color anyway; the color sucked...\n\n Suddenly, Billy and Ganz descend on Luther and Rosalie and\n pull them into their station wagon..\n\n INT. STATION WAGON\n\n Billy has Rosalie by the mouth, gagging her with his big\n paw... Ganz has his gun at Luther's neck.\n\n GANZ\n Surprise, Luther.\n\n LUTHER\n ", " bus?\n\n CATES\n Yeah. It missed the last four\n stops.\n\n Cates pours on the gas.\n\n BILLY BEAR\n\n His eyes fall on the rear view mirror. A white Caddy dances\n in the vibrating glass. Billy looks over his shoulder at Ganz.\n\n BILLY\n Ganz!\n\n THE CADDY\n\n Swerves into cross traffic, makes a big press forward. Comes\n abreast of the driver's", "men want a drink.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n CHRONICLE RESTAURANT AND BAR - NIGHT\n\n Cates and Hammond walk in. It's late, the place is almost\n empty. The Bartender is a woman with her back to them\n conferring with a waitress about something.\n\n HAMMOND\n It's late, they're closing...\n\n CATES\n Don't worry about it.\n\n The barmaid turns around to", "ates the\n lighter man's agility. They slug away, each now arm-weary...\n Exchange a dozen blows. Finally, Cates steps back, arms at\n his side... Breath coming like a bellows...\n\n Hammond has to hold on to the wall; one more punch would put\n him out.\n\n CATES\n Now, you bastard, you going to\n tell me what's going on...\n\n Puffing away.\n\n CATES\n (contin", "HER\n\n Gets in.\n\n Sees that the driver is Billy Bear...\n\n BUS\n\n The bus starts up. Luther hesitates in the front. On the wide\n rear seat is Ganz. Rosalie beside him.\n\n GANZ\n Open your coat. Both sides.\n\n He shows he's not packed.\n\n LUTHER\n Let her go.\n\n GANZ\n First, the money.\n\n Luther takes a step.\n\n ", "Whaddya want? I thought you were\n locked up-\n\n GANZ\n I want the money, asshole, what do\n you think? The money that Reggie\n hid...\n\n LUTHER\n I don't know what you're talkin'\n about.\n\n GANZ\n You want that Indian to snap her\n neck?\n\n He mimes the gesture... snap...\n\n GANZ\n (contin", "ES\n Tell them it's Cates, Detective\n 31st District. Then put your\n clothes on. If you don't answer\n some questions I'm taking both\n your asses in.\n\n After a moment, Casey puts down the phone.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n Now, let's cut out the crap, which\n one of you sees Billy Bear?\n\n SALLY\n None of your business, cop. " ], [ "I\n want it back.\n\n HADEN\n Jack, come on, there is an\n official department policy about\n cop killings. Cop killers\n represent a special priority\n because any man crazy enough to\n kill a cop is a greater threat to\n an unarmed civilian... In other\n words, we can't seen like we're in\n the revenge business... I know, we\n all know the truth's a little\n different.\n\n Cates", " What gang you talkin' about, Jack?\n\n CATES\n I can read a police file,\n shithead, and quit calling me Jack.\n\n HAMMOND\n Just an expression man, don't mean\n nothin'.\n\n Cates gets behind the wheel and kicks the engine over.\n\n CATES\n I don't give a damn. It happens\n to be my name.\n\n HAMMOND\n Then what", " yours from the Vice Squad wants\n you to call him.\n\n CATES\n What?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you still there?\n\n KEHOE\n Yeah. He said he rousted a bar\n with you last night.\n\n CATES\n Jesus Christ. Why the hell didn't\n you tell me before?\n\n KEHOE\n I'm not paid to take your personal\n", "he's gonna\n get another one.\n\n HAMMOND\n Hey, talk to here jack. I don't\n feel like gettin' number two along\n side of the head.\n\n CATES\n I said police. Now drop the\n goddamn gun.\n\n CASEY\n Don't give me that police shit.\n You drop it.\n\n Pause.\n\n CATES\n Okay,", "BLE\n\n Pulls up near the two men. Cates climbs out of his car and\n walks over to them.\n\n CATES\n Hey, fellas, what's happening?\n Radio said you guys had something\n on...\n\n ALGREN\n Not much, Jack ... Salesman named\n Polson had his credit cards\n lifted...\n\n Algren nods over to the parking lot opposite.\n\n ALGREN\n (continuing)", "...I'm police.\n\n SECOND COP\n Yeah, sure. Get your hands above\n your head.\n\n He keeps his gun trained on Cates,and Hammond.\n\n CATES\n My gun and badge are over there.\n And I'm too fucking tired to raise\n my hands...\n\n Hammond rubs the side of his face. Cates falls back against\n the patrol car. Still fighting for breath. The First Cop\n lifts Cates' wallet off the", "Skids into a traffic sign, demolishing some newspaper\n machines. Cates curses, tries to start the car. The engine\n won't turn over. He looks at the distant bus.\n\n CATES\n Goddamn! Goddamn! Goddamn!\n\n Pounds on the dash. What's left of the windshield falls in at\n the impact.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Cates at his desk. Hammond seated nearby, now with", "heard\n ... Word's going around that in\n addition to losing Ganz for the\n second time, and in addition to\n Haden busting you back to\n Patrolman, some jig beat the crap\n out of you.\n\n CATES\n Aw, bullshit, you heard wrong.\n\n KEHOE\n Doesn't look like it.\n\n CATES\n Nothing came in for me yet? No\n calls?\n\n", "ITY OFFICER\n Just put it down real slow.\n\n The train doors close.\n\n CATES\n I'm a policeman, you asshole!\n\n SECURITY OFFICER\n Don't even try... now drop it\n or - you're all done.\n\n He means it, points the riot gun even closer... The train in\n front of him moves away.\n\n Cates carefully places the .38 on the pavement. Then raises\n his hands in the", "\n\n CATES\n Yeah, Guess it must have been a\n slow news day...\n\n ELAINE\n Jack, are you okay?\n\n CATES\n Sure, okay, fine, no problem...\n See, there's this kid in jail ...\n First thing I got to do is go up\n and see what he knows ...\n\n He points to the file.\n\n ELAINE\n I thought you might come over to\n ", "Algren is\n dead. He cradles Algren's head as he stares at the arriving\n TAC Squad and Patrolmen.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n SQUAD ROOM DAY\n\n Cates walks in. Several Detectives gather around him.\n\n FAT COP\n What happened?\n\n CATES\n Read the report.\n\n OLD COP\n Two cops blown away by a credit\n card booster... that don't figure.\n\n", "Cadillac and looks at his badge,\n shows it to the other cop.\n\n FIRST COP\n What the hell's going on here?\n\n Cates walks over, pockets his gun.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n SECOND COP\n I've got a burglary call. Two\n women say a couple of hoods broke\n into their place posing as cops.\n\n CATES\n I was following a lead. We\n rousted", "Come on, Jack. I want to hear\n about your girl. When were you\n with her last ... You get what I\n mean?\n\n Smiles. Cates smiles back at him, almost cruelly\n\n\n\n\n\n CATES\n I don't give out the details.\n\n HAMMOND\n Last night, two nights ago, three?\n\n Cates keeps smiling.\n\n CATES\n Last night.\n\n HAMMON", "freezes. Cates, gun held\n level, moves forward... Rips the shower curtain open.\n Revealing a young and very beautiful woman, ELAINE MARSHALL.\n\n CATES\n Inspector Jack Cates, S.F.P.D....\n And you're wanted.\n\n Elaine stares at him as Cates turns off the water.\n\n ELAINE\n What am I wanted for?\n\n CATES\n I don't answer questions", " calls. He was in some bar. .. off\n duty.\n\n\n\n\n\n Cates interrupts.\n\n CATES\n The number ... what's the Goddamn\n number?\n\n ELAINE\n Jack? What was that?\n\n KEHOE\n Find it yourself. It's on my desk.\n\n Cates speaks back into the receiver.\n\n CATES\n Elaine, I gotta put you on", "partitions.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n You stay with me.\n\n Cates picks up the phone on the other side of the booking\n desk. Dials ... waits for a response as TWO HOOKERS are led\n past by an Arresting Officer. Hammond gives them the eye.\n\n CATES\n (continuing)\n This is Jack Cates. Any messages?\n\n ELAINE'S APARTMENT\n\n Elaine is on the kitchen phone,", " Somebody steals your gun, you're\n supposed to file a report.\n\n CATES\n Are you gonna tell me about police\n procedure? Do me a favor, don't\n give me a bunch of crap.\n\n YOUNG COP\n I guess when two cops die on\n account of your fuck up you want\n to keep it as quiet as possible...\n\n Cates loses it for a second, lands on him with both hands,\n pushes him against a", "police.\n\n CORRIDOR\n\n Cates stops at the landing. Vanzant's body sprawled across\n the hallway. Algren back in the corridor, still losing\n blood... Leans against the wall for support... Lisa staggers\n out of the room, screams. Algren points the gun toward the\n elevator. Indicating where Ganz and Billy have just fled.\n Cates starts back down toward the lobby.\n\n ELEVATOR\n\n Ganz and Billy, guns ready as the carriage jolts downward.", " pissed.\n\n FIRST COP\n I gotta file a..Report tonight\n asshole...\n\n CATES\n Goes with the territory.\n\n He grabs Hammond and they head for the Cadillac.\n\n TRANSITION.\n\n ALL-NIGHT GAS STATION\n\n Cadillac parked behind the service area.\n\n RESTROOM\n\n Hammond looks' up at his bruised face in the mirror, then\n washes up. Cates is", "name.\n\n CATES\n Mr. Polson, room 27...\n\n ALGREN\n Is he alone?\n\n FRIZZY\n Naw, his sister went up an hour\n ago.\n\n Vanzant turns to Cates.\n\n VANZANT\n Okay, like we said, you stake out\n the lobby.\n\n CATES\n Sure. Great. Whatever.\n\n VANZ" ] ]

[ "G.P. Poison was actually a made up name for who? ", "Reggie Hammond was in prison for what crime? ", "Where did Billy used to be a bartender? ", "What kind of car was Jack driving when he drove it through a showroom? ", "How much money did Ganz, Billy, Luther, Wong, and Reggie steal from the drug dealer? ", "What was the name of Jack's boss? ", "Who does Reggie shoot at the end of the story?", "Ganz is killed by who?", "Jack asks Reggie for a loan at the end of the story for what? ", "Why does Jack get Reggie a 48 hour leave?", "Why does Luther shoot at Jack?", "Who robbed the drug dealer of $500,000?", "Who did Billy and Ganz kidnap?", "Why did Billy and Ganz kidnap Rosealie?", "What does Luther get if he gives Billy and Ganz the $5000,000?", "Why does Jack apologize to Reggie?", "Where do Jack and Reggie find Ganz?", "Who shot Billy?", "What did Reggie ask Jack for before he was taken back to jail?", "By what name is Ganz also known as?", "What city is the police department in?", "What is the name of the redneck hangout?", "What is Luther's girlfriends name?", "Which type of car went through the car showroom?", "Who is jacks boss?", "Who shoots billy?", "Who takes Reggie back to prison?", "Why does big bear want water?", "What is jacks title at the police department?" ]

[ [ "Albert Ganz ", "Ganz." ], [ "armed robbery ", "Armed robbery." ], [ "Torchy's ", "Torchy's" ], [ "Cadillac ", "A Cadillac." ], [ "$500,0000", "$500,000" ], [ "Haden ", "Haden" ], [ "Billy ", "Billy" ], [ "Jack ", "Jack Cates" ], [ "Cadillac Car ", "For another Cadillac." ], [ "To help Jack find Billy and Ganz because Reggie was Ganz's old partner.", "so that he can help Jack find Billy and Ganz, his former partners" ], [ "Luther shoots at Jack so he doesn't have to be investigated. Jack takes Luther to jail.", "He was trying to escape interrogation." ], [ "Ganz, Billy Bear, Luther and Wong.", "Reggie, Ganz, Luther, Wong and Billy Bear." ], [ "Rosealie.", "Luther's girlfriend Rosalie" ], [ "They wanted Luther to get Reggie's car so they could get the money in the trunk.", "To use her to get the money from Luther in exchange for returning her safely." ], [ "Rosealie's safe return.", "Luther will get his kidnapped girlfriend, Rosalie, back safely if he retrieves the $500,000 and turns it over to Billy and Ganz." ], [ "Because Jack is constantly berating Reggie and putting him down. Jack feels bad because Reggie tracked Luther.", "He tracked luther to the hotel. " ], [ "His girlfriend's place to use as a hideout.", "follow luther from the hotel" ], [ "Reggie shot Billy.", "Reggie" ], [ "Reggie asked for a loan on a Cadillac since his was ruined.", "A loan for another Cadillac." ], [ "g.p.polson", "Albert" ], [ "San Fransisco", "San Francisco" ], [ "torchys", "Torchy's" ], [ "rosalie", "Rosalie" ], [ "Cadillac", "Cadillac." ], [ "Haden", "Haden." ], [ "Reggie", "Reggie" ], [ "jack", "Jack" ], [ "Radiator for truck overheating", "To cool off his truck's overheating radiator." ], [ "Inspector", "Inspector." ] ]

[ [ " Heroine covers her daughter's ears as the survivors are helped \n into the truck. Tuffy sits, looking to Bozo.\n\n TUFFY\n How'd you survive?\n\n BOZO\n I found a new weak spot on 'em, but \n it damn ain't pretty getting to it.\n\n Heroine, last in the truck, turns to the men.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you taking us?\n\n THE MAN IN TAN", "ast, overtaking the \n survivors. At the store front, Heroine pulls Charlie close. \n\n HEROINE\n (a whisper)\n I love you...\n\n CUT TO BLACK:\n\n EXT. IGA (GROCERY STORE) -- AN HOUR LATER\n\n A string of ten WHITE VANS come to a halt in the dusty parking \n lot. THE MAN IN TAN (45, buzz cut, leathery skin, cool) steps ", "Heroine and Charlie stare back at \n the men, huddled together in a defensive stance.\n\n The Man in Tan creaks his neck.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Gentlemen, help them to safety.\n\n Heroine, holding Charlie, lurches back.\n\n HEROINE\n You're not safe, she's still alive, \n she'll be back...\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Relax. We know. We're the", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", " Are you two all right? They left! We \n made it! I think we made it!\n\n TUFFY\n They'll be back.\n\n HEROINE\n We're safe until dark, but we need \n to find other people.\n\n Heroine rises and moves to the cab of the truck. She finds a \n pack of cigs under the visor. Pops in the lighter.\n\n HEROINE\n You know where the IGA grocery", "room in the hall. A \n scratched, closed door without an outside handle.\n\n HEROINE\n Oh no...\n\n Heroine kicks in the door and...\n\n There's a note on a teddy beer that says, \"WE WENT TO THE \n SHELTER. LOVE GRANDMA AND CHARLIE.\"\n\n TUFFY\n They're alive!\n\n The shudders SMACK against the wall.\n\n INT. ADULTERER'", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", " Coach's pants and boxers. He screams and lunges forward. He \n is BOTTOMLESS.\n\n HEROINE\n Everyone stay in the middle of the \n room! Off the walls! NOW!\n\n Everyone obeys her command to get in the middle of the room.\n\n Belle hands Coach a little menu to cover himself with.\n\n HEROINE\n Now, does everyone agree that they \n are still out there?\n\n The group nods.\n", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "hole in the floor.\n\n Heroine and Bartender move in. When Teen Beast sticks his \n head out of the hole again, they thrust both their shotguns \n into each ear.\n\n HEROINE\n Now!\n\n BLAM-BLAM! The two shots scatter head everywhere.\n\n The flames in the bar spread, catching the entire wall and \n roof on fire.\n\n EXT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n The second barrel comes to a stop a good distance from", "other half of Hero.\n\n HEROINE\n Goddamn you!\n\n Blood starts to SPRAY from outside as the rest of Hero is \n being devoured through the smallish hole.\n\n Heroine works a GOLD RING off of Hero's ring finger. The \n feeding MOMMA BEAST'S head breaks in through the hole. It \n grabs Heroine's left forearm.\n\n Bartender aims The Judge at the Beast...\n\n ROADIE\n You'", "closing in. The men are trapped. Coach \n looks around, seeing a plan.\n\n COACH\n Grab onto ceiling and get out of \n water!\n\n ROADIE\n What?\n\n COACH\n Do it!!!\n\n Grabbing onto the piping along the ceiling, Roadie pulls \n himself from the water. Coach uses the machete to cut a power \n cord from above. He grabs the exposed, sparking end.\n\n COACH\n ", " awkwardly. She cries and blood stains her dress.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie!\n\n As Heroine nears, Adulterer GRABS her arm.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop! There's something wrong!\n\n HEROINE\n Honey!?\n\n The group eyes Charlie, noticing Heroine's locket around her \n ankle, leading to a slightly ajar manhole cover. Suddenly, \n the sunlight starts to FADE. They", "Y\n Anyone.\n\n BOZO\n Do you drive a short beer bus or \n something? You go out there, you get \n eaten. You stay in here, you get \n eaten. Anyone comes to help, they \n get eaten. Don't you see a pattern \n here, Spuds Makenzie?\n\n BEER GUY\n Then I guess we should just give up.\n\n BOZO\n (re: Tramp", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "sheepishly nods.\n\n HEROINE\n This place is a ghost town.\n\n The group makes their way to the store front, peeking beyond \n the glass doors.\n\n ADULTERER\n (pointing)\n Look!\n\n In the distance, in middle of a dusty parking lot, CHARLIE \n stands staring at them.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie?\n\n Heroine runs to her and the others follow. Charlie fidgets \n" ], [ "The men instinctively raise their high-powered rifles, letting \n the flashlights on the ends lead the way. They follow the \n trail of blood to a back FREEZER LOCKER.\n\n It's scratched, bashed and thrashed.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Open it.\n\n Company Man #2 steps forward and uses a metal-cutting chainsaw \n to cut through the hinges. The door falls with a THUD.\n\n As the dust clears, Tuffy,", "ING from inside.\n\n Hero hollers from the fuel pump by the car.\n\n HERO\n What's goin' on? The pumps are off.\n\n TUBBS\n There's nobody here --\n\n She follows the buzzing sound to a corner of the room. There \n is a swarm of black flies crawling over half a STATION \n ATTENDANT'S gutted torso.\n\n HEROINE\n They've been here!\n\n", "holding his blood squirting eye socket.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n P.O.V. - The eye sees its owner stumble back and fall to \n the floor holding his face.\n\n INSIDE\n\n Coach and Trampy move to help Adulterer.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n The eyeball fires into Papa's drooling mega-mouth. SLURP!\n\n INSIDE\n\n BASH! A Beast arm BURSTS through the side wall and SNAGS \n", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "second, she \n BREAKS the chain, popping herself free.\n\n She spins, running for safety. A guttural HOWL behind her \n fills the cavern. Mean Green sprints toward the cave opening. \n She's gonna make it. Only a few more feet. And then... JERK!\n\n Something grabs her neck and YANKS her back into the darkness. \n The whiplash sends her bloody BULLHORN flying into the light. \n As it lands, it lets out one", "\n A trauma center. We have doctors \n waiting.\n (off Heroine's pause)\n You're in good hands now.\n\n The door shuts on Heroine's concerned face. The Man in Tan \n locks eyes with the Driver.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Do it quick and spread the mess.\n\n The Driver nods back. Sinister implication understood.\n\n The Man in Tan lights a cigarette as he watches the truck \n drive off. The truck's", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "calvary.\n\n The Man in Tan steps forward, guiding the group out.\n\n EXT. IGA (GROCERY STORE) -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n A bulky security truck pulls up. A DRIVER, holding a bloody \n rag to his nose, gets out and moves to the back door.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n What happened to you?\n\n The Driver nods to the back of the truck, opening the door.\n\n Bozo lurches out, handc", "other foot.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Heroine's picking fingers are bleeding from her effort.\n\n BOZO (O.S.)\n HELP ME PLEASE!!!\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man is pulled towards the Sister Beasts.\n\n BOSS MAN\n HELLLLLP!!!\n\n Roadie kicks open the door and FIRES at the Sisters. They \n dive back out of the room screeching.\n\n", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the", "through the back window, \n reaching for them. Heroine jerks the wheel.\n\n The car 180's and the Beast sails off of the car into \n darkness. The Camaro tears down a tangent dirt road.\n\n HERO\n We made it!\n\n Hero reaches back to give a \"five\" to Tubbs. Tubbs doesn't \n respond. Heroine is the first to see Tubbs' quivering, \n HEADLESS body in the back seat.\n", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "cutting him in half. Bozo makes it to his \n Trans-Am.\n\n BOZO\n DO IT!\n\n VAHVVVOOOMMMM! The car roars to life. He pushes in a tape.\n\n The \"MIAMI VICE\" theme song blares from the speakers.\n\n BOZO\n Get me FUCK BIRDS!\n\n Bozo peels out. Aunt Beast lands right in his path.\n\n BOZO\n No", "\n They look down the stairs to the basement. Nothing. They \n move up the stairs to the second floor.\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n\n SMACK! They spin to the noise.\n\n INT. ADULTERER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n\n He moves up the stairs to the master bedroom. SMACK!\n\n There's a noise at the end of the hall. SMACK!\n\n INT. HEROINE'S GRANDMOTHER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n\n They cautiously move to the last", " awkwardly. She cries and blood stains her dress.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie!\n\n As Heroine nears, Adulterer GRABS her arm.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop! There's something wrong!\n\n HEROINE\n Honey!?\n\n The group eyes Charlie, noticing Heroine's locket around her \n ankle, leading to a slightly ajar manhole cover. Suddenly, \n the sunlight starts to FADE. They", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "runs for his Trans-Am. Para falls to the ground, still \n alive. Bozo turns back and sees him.\n\n BOZO\n Oh Jesus!\n\n PARA\n HELLLPPP!\n\n Bozo grabs his brother and puts him on his back again, runs.\n\n BOZO\n I thought we lost you --\n\n Para is RIPPED into the air again.\n\n BOZO\n You FUCKER!\n\n T", "\n Ripping, tearing, and howling echoes off the walls.\n\n Bearded Cameraman stumbles back. Mean Green spots him.\n\n MEAN GREEN\n Give me the keys!!!\n\n Bearded Camerman just stares at her in shock. He's missing \n both his arms.\n\n Mean Green lunges and grabs Chief's dropped pick-axe. She \n HAMMERS at the chain around her waist.\n\n Foot by foot, she's dragged closer. At the last" ], [ "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "group tries to focus, but \n it's too dark outside. With the moon as the only light, Father \n Beast can barely be made out cradling his dead child.\n\n Silhouettes of the other family members slowly approach \n Junior. Papa Beast is gentle and it's almost endearing.\n\n BEER GUY\n It's working. I think it's working.\n\n COACH\n You see? What I tell you?\n\n The whole group starts to ease. Then...", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", "vers to get a better look.\n\n TRAMPY\n Oh... my... god.\n\n PARA\n What are they doing now?\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Yes, Momma Beast and Papa Beast are having MONSTER SEX.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n BOZO\n Dude, they're humpin'!\n\n P.O.V. - THROUG", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "uffy reaches back and shoves her fist into Papa Beast's \n mouth, jamming it down his throat. He instantly gags, sucking \n for air.\n\n Papa Beast struggles to get free, but the others hold tight.\n\n Papa Beast's body begins to quiver from a lack of oxygen.\n\n His eyes widen, face to face with Tuffy.\n\n TUFFY\n CHOKE ON IT!!!\n\n With one last lunge, Papa Beast shakes, his life drifting ", ": As Heroine describes each beast, we see a slight glimpse \n of their virtues, hidden mainly by shadows and fog.\n\n HEROINE\n The next one is taller, but all out \n of proportion. Like a \"teen beast.\"\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n TEEN BEAST has a big head and awkward body. He clumsily moves \n and seems uncomfortable in his own skin.\n\n HEROINE (V.O.)\n He was spastic", "\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine stands near Grandpa Beast's head.\n\n HEROINE\n It must have smelled the blood or \n something. We buried the body and \n got back on the main road when...\n\n INT. CAMARO -- NIGHT\n\n BOOM! Grandpa Beast LANDS on the front hood of the Camaro.\n\n Heroine and Hero SCREAM and rev the engine, swerving madly \n as Grandpa Beast V", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", "back, dragging the rest of Hero outside.\n\n Heroine clutches the ring. Shrieks and flapping wings are \n heard outside. They dissipate. A moment of calm.\n\n Belle timidly holds the receiver of the busted pay phone.\n\n The other patrons emerge from under tables and other hiding \n spaces in various states of shock. Junior Beast has \n momentarily stopped moving. Bozo secures the lid with a nearby \n PADLOCK.\n\n BOZO\n What the", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "BOZO\n I didn't do it! It was fuckin' \n monsters, asshole!\n\n BOSS MAN\n Jesus Christ on the cross... someone \n make sense.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy. We're surrounded by something \n the likes none of you have ever seen \n before. Some kind of animals. Real \n fast, volatile, predators. One went \n through three of your patrons like \n nothing.\n\n", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "MAN\n But its got teeth.\n\n BAM-BAM-BAM! Junior Beast bangs around in the ice cooler.\n\n BOZO\n I think it's hungry again.\n\n HEROINE\n We have to kill it.\n (to Boss Man)\n Can you help?\n\n Boss Man hobbles over to the cooler and aims his .38. Junior \n Beast goes wild, trying to get out.\n\n BOSS", "\n things out there!\n\n Grandpa Beast's head has large red eyeballs and a mouth full \n of jagged, ivory white teeth. It is like an albino jackal \n head with spiked hair.\n\n HERO\n I saw one of them tear up five men \n like they were corn on the cob!\n (off silence, shock)\n I don't know what they are. I don't \n know where they came from. All I do ", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the" ], [ "uffy reaches back and shoves her fist into Papa Beast's \n mouth, jamming it down his throat. He instantly gags, sucking \n for air.\n\n Papa Beast struggles to get free, but the others hold tight.\n\n Papa Beast's body begins to quiver from a lack of oxygen.\n\n His eyes widen, face to face with Tuffy.\n\n TUFFY\n CHOKE ON IT!!!\n\n With one last lunge, Papa Beast shakes, his life drifting ", "MAN\n But its got teeth.\n\n BAM-BAM-BAM! Junior Beast bangs around in the ice cooler.\n\n BOZO\n I think it's hungry again.\n\n HEROINE\n We have to kill it.\n (to Boss Man)\n Can you help?\n\n Boss Man hobbles over to the cooler and aims his .38. Junior \n Beast goes wild, trying to get out.\n\n BOSS", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the", "vers to get a better look.\n\n TRAMPY\n Oh... my... god.\n\n PARA\n What are they doing now?\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Yes, Momma Beast and Papa Beast are having MONSTER SEX.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n BOZO\n Dude, they're humpin'!\n\n P.O.V. - THROUG", ": As Heroine describes each beast, we see a slight glimpse \n of their virtues, hidden mainly by shadows and fog.\n\n HEROINE\n The next one is taller, but all out \n of proportion. Like a \"teen beast.\"\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n TEEN BEAST has a big head and awkward body. He clumsily moves \n and seems uncomfortable in his own skin.\n\n HEROINE (V.O.)\n He was spastic", " He SWIPES the heads off Old Vet and Harley Mom. Bartender \n grabs The Judge, but he's SCRATCHED down the back.\n\n Junior Beast rips out the pay phone. Knocks over the TV.\n\n Yanks out half of Trampy's hair.\n\n Edgy Cat CHARGES the spastic monster with a stool.\n\n EDGY CAT\n I got you!\n\n Edgy Cat misses. Junior Beast sends him FLYING into a", "wall.\n\n BLAM! BLAM! Bartender FIRES The Judge at the creature hitting \n lights instead. An errant shot destroys Edgy Cat's face.\n\n Para covers as Junior Beast RIPS the back of his wheelchair.\n\n Roadie WHACKS Junior Beast with a chair. Stunned, it flies \n across the room, landing in a metal ICE COOLER.\n\n Bozo SLAMS it closed, capturing Junior Beast.\n\n BOZO\n Got 'cha!\n", "back, dragging the rest of Hero outside.\n\n Heroine clutches the ring. Shrieks and flapping wings are \n heard outside. They dissipate. A moment of calm.\n\n Belle timidly holds the receiver of the busted pay phone.\n\n The other patrons emerge from under tables and other hiding \n spaces in various states of shock. Junior Beast has \n momentarily stopped moving. Bozo secures the lid with a nearby \n PADLOCK.\n\n BOZO\n What the", "\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine stands near Grandpa Beast's head.\n\n HEROINE\n It must have smelled the blood or \n something. We buried the body and \n got back on the main road when...\n\n INT. CAMARO -- NIGHT\n\n BOOM! Grandpa Beast LANDS on the front hood of the Camaro.\n\n Heroine and Hero SCREAM and rev the engine, swerving madly \n as Grandpa Beast V", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", "group tries to focus, but \n it's too dark outside. With the moon as the only light, Father \n Beast can barely be made out cradling his dead child.\n\n Silhouettes of the other family members slowly approach \n Junior. Papa Beast is gentle and it's almost endearing.\n\n BEER GUY\n It's working. I think it's working.\n\n COACH\n You see? What I tell you?\n\n The whole group starts to ease. Then...", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "The two halves spring \n appendages and raise their heads. The TWIN SISTER BEASTS \n have been born.\n\n Papa moves forward and cleans off his new baby girls. The \n Beast Girls look at the bar and hiss in unison.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Heroine's eyes bulge.\n\n HEROINE\n Get back!\n\n SLAM-SLAM! The two hissing Beast Girls strike the bar front.\n\n Roadie", ", clumsy, but deadly \n just the same.\n\n INT. BAR FRONT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine tends to her scratched arm.\n\n HEROINE\n I just took the eye out of the mother. \n She calculates, guiding the attacks.\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n MOMMA BEAST flashes out from the dark. She's shorter than \n Teen, but much wider. She has a big mouth and NATIONAL", "second, she \n BREAKS the chain, popping herself free.\n\n She spins, running for safety. A guttural HOWL behind her \n fills the cavern. Mean Green sprints toward the cave opening. \n She's gonna make it. Only a few more feet. And then... JERK!\n\n Something grabs her neck and YANKS her back into the darkness. \n The whiplash sends her bloody BULLHORN flying into the light. \n As it lands, it lets out one", "gun, and rips \n open the keg door. Heroine swings out.\n\n P.O.V. - Teen Beast is right behind her with mouth open and \n ready to feed. Tuffy points her shotgun.\n\n BLAM! Teen lurches back, dropping back down the shaft.\n\n Tuffy slams the keg door shut. Heroine pants on the floor.\n\n Adulterer is down, winded.\n\n BOZO\n Welcome back.\n\n HERO" ], [ "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "uffy reaches back and shoves her fist into Papa Beast's \n mouth, jamming it down his throat. He instantly gags, sucking \n for air.\n\n Papa Beast struggles to get free, but the others hold tight.\n\n Papa Beast's body begins to quiver from a lack of oxygen.\n\n His eyes widen, face to face with Tuffy.\n\n TUFFY\n CHOKE ON IT!!!\n\n With one last lunge, Papa Beast shakes, his life drifting ", " Heroine covers her daughter's ears as the survivors are helped \n into the truck. Tuffy sits, looking to Bozo.\n\n TUFFY\n How'd you survive?\n\n BOZO\n I found a new weak spot on 'em, but \n it damn ain't pretty getting to it.\n\n Heroine, last in the truck, turns to the men.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you taking us?\n\n THE MAN IN TAN", "Tuffy pushes out \n Bartender's corpse and JERKS the wheel.\n\n IN THE BACK\n\n Momma Beast falls back, knocking down Heroine. Momma Beast \n nearly falls out, but manages to grab the rear gate with one \n claw. Defenseless, Heroine backs away. Momma Beast holds on \n tightly, pulling herself onto the bed of the truck.\n\n Tuffy stares back through the glass, unable to do anything.\n\n Momma Beast lunges towards Hero", "\n teeth and moves to the staircase.\n\n TUFFY\n 'Round here, there are ways.\n\n Boss Man winks at Belle. Pure sleaze.\n\n Freeze on him.\n\n NAME: BOSS MAN \n AGE: 47 \n OCCUPATION: BAR OWNER \n MOTTO: IF THERE'S GRASS IN THE FIELD, PLAY BALL \n LIFE EXPECTANCY: REGULAR OR EXTRA-CRIS", "but stops. She grabs Tuffy by \n the arm and takes her aside.\n\n HEROINE\n I'm sorry.\n\n TUFFY\n Don't worry, I'm fine. Really.\n\n HEROINE\n I admire your strength.\n\n TUFFY\n Trust me, I plan on having a full \n breakdown when this is over, but for \n now, we all have to be strong, right?\n\n Hero", " looking tough and resolute.\n\n BEER GUY\n That's not a good idea.\n\n BOSS MAN\n With what happened upstairs --\n\n TUFFY\n Shut up! Shut your mouth. You have \n no idea what is running through me \n right now. No idea.\n (to Heroine)\n I'm ready.\n\n HEROINE\n Alright.\n\n ROADIE\n", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "The men instinctively raise their high-powered rifles, letting \n the flashlights on the ends lead the way. They follow the \n trail of blood to a back FREEZER LOCKER.\n\n It's scratched, bashed and thrashed.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Open it.\n\n Company Man #2 steps forward and uses a metal-cutting chainsaw \n to cut through the hinges. The door falls with a THUD.\n\n As the dust clears, Tuffy,", "a stand! Right here! Right now!\n\n Long silence. Bozo stares.\n\n BOZO\n Dude, are you gay?\n\n Coach sits down, humbled.\n\n HEROINE\n We know what not to do. We must stay \n focused and together. The beasts \n will find a breach. We gotta find a \n way out before they find a way in.\n\n TUFFY\n Let's run for the cars, cause", "me, I'm going.\n\n BARTENDER\n You're trusting that con? He'll ditch \n us and never look back.\n\n ROADIE\n Fuck you too.\n\n BARTENDER\n Get in line!\n\n HEROINE\n Hey! I'm not trusting him either, \n that's why I'm going with.\n\n Coach stands forward.\n\n COACH\n \"C", "MAN\n Fire in the hole!\n\n Bullets rip through the cooler. Junior squeals. More shots.\n\n Casings hit the ground. Smoke rises. Bozo leans in.\n\n BOZO\n I think we got --\n\n RAH! A tiny white arm fires out from the cooler GRABBING \n Bozo's leg. Bozo yelps.\n\n Moving quick, Tuffy grabs The Judge from Bartender and shoves \n the barrel into a hole.\n", "\n\n Tuffy moves for the keg door. Adulterer grabs The Judge from \n Bartender.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop!\n\n TRAMPY\n What the fuck are you doing?!\n\n ADULTERER\n They can't get in here! We agreed! \n They'll get us!\n\n TUFFY\n She can make it!\n\n ADULTERER\n I will not die because of", "CK!\n\n A deafening pattern of sound erupts from within the truck.\n\n It's Momma Beast. Again and again.\n\n TUFFY\n What is that?\n\n HEROINE\n She's calling for help.\n\n Heroine drops the lighter onto the fuel. It races for the \n truck. When feet away, COUSIN BEAST lands, stomping out the \n fire with his foot.\n\n BOZO\n The fan has officially", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "EROINE\n No one goes anywhere alone. Least of \n all, unarmed.\n\n TUFFY\n (to Coach)\n There's some sweats in my bag behind \n the bar.\n\n COACH\n Thanks.\n\n Coach heads to the bar. Roadie moves to the map near Para.\n\n ROADIE\n You're a clever man.\n (re: Bozo)\n Why do you take shit from him?\n", "the road.\n\n INT. BARTENDER'S CAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n With the peddle to the floor, Bartender drives.\n\n BARTENDER\n I think we're in the clear --\n\n BAM! Momma Beast lands on the roof. She reaches inside and \n yanks out Bartender's throat. The car veers.\n\n Tuffy rights it, leaning over and stomping on the gas. Momma \n yanks at the door, pulling it open.", "have...\n\n TUFFY\n Don't worry about that. Just go.\n\n Moment of silence as Adulterer and Tuffy look down the \n desolate road.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm sorry about your son. I really \n am.\n\n Tuffy nods, affectionately touching his hand.\n\n ADULTERER\n Where are you two going?\n\n HEROINE\n We're going to get my little", "\n TUFFY\n You have it.\n\n HEROINE\n Good. But still do me a favor.\n\n TUFFY\n Name it.\n\n HEROINE\n (with a wink)\n Don't tell anyone I have a soft side.\n\n TUFFY\n (tiny smile)\n Deal.\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n\n Bozo turns and points the gun around the room. He sees the ", "t \n show --\n\n BOSS MAN (O.S.)\n We got a problem.\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n P.O.V. - We are trucking... labored breathing...\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Tuffy moves to a table where ADULTERER (bushy mustache, \n sweater vest, dress shirt) sits with TRAMPY (designer glasses, \n hair pulled back, tight blue business suit, closet" ], [ "H SMALL HOLES\n\n Unlike humans, Papa Beast finishes and the birth cycle lasts \n all of thirty seconds. Momma Beast's belly balloons up and \n she squats. POP! A SLIMY OBJECT the size and shape of a vacuum \n cleaner drops from her.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Trampy VOMITS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n The slimy object SPLITS in half.", "me. They like the \n food that moves...\n\n CRASH! Teen Beast's arm ERUPTS through the Boss Man's belly.\n\n His pistol and bullets scatter across the floor.\n\n BOSS MAN\n OHHH!!!\n\n SNAPPP!!! His head and legs SLAP together as the arm pulls \n him through a small hole in the floor.\n\n The group jumps back. Blood rockets out. His body is pureed \n down the tiny hole.\n\n ", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", " and those flow lines were condemned, \n but never drained.\n\n COACH\n Cheese n' rice...\n\n TRAMPY\n I still don't get it.\n\n PARA\n What I am saying is... there's a \n distinct possibility that what we \n are up against is the result of steady \n stream of blood and tissue that has \n been leaking into the caves. And a \n day ago... something", "The two halves spring \n appendages and raise their heads. The TWIN SISTER BEASTS \n have been born.\n\n Papa moves forward and cleans off his new baby girls. The \n Beast Girls look at the bar and hiss in unison.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Heroine's eyes bulge.\n\n HEROINE\n Get back!\n\n SLAM-SLAM! The two hissing Beast Girls strike the bar front.\n\n Roadie", "holding his blood squirting eye socket.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n P.O.V. - The eye sees its owner stumble back and fall to \n the floor holding his face.\n\n INSIDE\n\n Coach and Trampy move to help Adulterer.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n The eyeball fires into Papa's drooling mega-mouth. SLURP!\n\n INSIDE\n\n BASH! A Beast arm BURSTS through the side wall and SNAGS \n", "HERO\n Holy mother of...\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine has the group mesmerized.\n\n HEROINE\n We barricaded ourselves in the cellar. \n Then it was just listening. We heard \n those things destroy an entire heard \n of livestock. They just kept coming. \n Closer and closer, consuming anything \n in the way. Slashing, feeding and \n licking the bones clean. Just when \n ", "\n things out there!\n\n Grandpa Beast's head has large red eyeballs and a mouth full \n of jagged, ivory white teeth. It is like an albino jackal \n head with spiked hair.\n\n HERO\n I saw one of them tear up five men \n like they were corn on the cob!\n (off silence, shock)\n I don't know what they are. I don't \n know where they came from. All I do ", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", " PARA\n Did you ever slaughter? Slaughter \n livestock?\n\n HEROINE\n Previous owners did, I think.\n\n COACH\n What are you talking about?\n\n PARA\n Slaughterhouse run-off used to be \n drained into piping that ran through \n the mountains.\n\n Para points along the map as he explains.\n\n PARA\n Earthquakes often cracked the piping \n ", " Coach's pants and boxers. He screams and lunges forward. He \n is BOTTOMLESS.\n\n HEROINE\n Everyone stay in the middle of the \n room! Off the walls! NOW!\n\n Everyone obeys her command to get in the middle of the room.\n\n Belle hands Coach a little menu to cover himself with.\n\n HEROINE\n Now, does everyone agree that they \n are still out there?\n\n The group nods.\n", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", " BOZO\n They're probably on to the next buffet \n by now. There's a retirement home up \n the road, they'd be easy pickings.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Adulterer)\n Careful.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm telling you, I don't see a thing --\n\n BOINK! Papa Beast's claw POKES into his eye. Adulterer JERKS \n away", "uffy reaches back and shoves her fist into Papa Beast's \n mouth, jamming it down his throat. He instantly gags, sucking \n for air.\n\n Papa Beast struggles to get free, but the others hold tight.\n\n Papa Beast's body begins to quiver from a lack of oxygen.\n\n His eyes widen, face to face with Tuffy.\n\n TUFFY\n CHOKE ON IT!!!\n\n With one last lunge, Papa Beast shakes, his life drifting ", "shine.\n\n COACH\n (rising, full of brawn)\n If they can't reproduce anymore -- \n we are one step closer! A big step! \n Now is the time to band together. We \n need to rise up against these monsters \n of the night! Those creatures are no \n match for the human spirit! We can \n do it! We just need to believe in \n each other! In all of us! We need to \n make" ], [ "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "hand shakes as he raises his weapon.\n\n ROADIE\n Scared?\n\n COACH\n No. You?\n\n ROADIE\n Of course not. I fight monsters all \n the time.\n (gripping the door)\n On three.\n\n Roadie, Heroine raise their weapons.\n\n COACH\n One... two... three!!!\n\n Roadie whips open the door. Nothing.\n\n BANG-G", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "back against the wall.\n\n Sister Beast #1 pokes her head inside the room, hissing. \n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Heroine and the others, just returning from the basement, \n hear the mayhem from upstairs and the kitchen.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Coach fumbles desperately with the jammed lock, trying to \n use his fingernails to turn the metal stump.\n\n COACH\n Great god, why do you damn me?!\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", " SECOND FLOOR\n\n BOZO\n HELLLLLLLLP!!!\n\n Right behind Bozo, the boards fly off the portal window.\n\n Papa Beast flies at Bozo. Bozo spins and aimlessly FIRES his \n shotgun, hitting Papa Beast directly in the groin.\n\n The door flies open. Bozo is YANKED to safety just as Papa \n STRIKES the closing door.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The patrons track the wild CRASHING and H", "ened silence. From beyond the \n walls, they can hear high-pitched SCREAMS.\n\n THUD! THUD! THUD! With every strike, a splattering of blood \n spits through the planks of wood.\n\n BARTENDER\n That wall's coming down!\n\n BOZO\n Commence Plan B!\n\n The entire group goes into motion.\n\n HEROINE\n What's Plan B?\n\n BOZO\n ", "ing open the wall and knocking \n back Papa Beast. The wooden walls go up in flame.\n\n Para, on a side table, reaches out and grabs Boss Man's .38 \n from the floor.\n\n The second peanut barrel is released. It sails outside the \n breach, but it doesn't explode. Nevertheless, the Beasts \n stay far away.\n\n Teen Beast madly rips floor boards away, moving towards Para's \n table. Teen Beast bursts through the", "trying to burrow through the \n tunnel walls.\n\n HEROINE\n Move.\n\n The scratching sound increases, now heard from the far end \n of the tunnel as well.\n\n COACH\n Like moles these things.\n\n Then, Sister Beast #1 drops into the tunnel from the far \n end.\n\n She charges. At the last second, Roadie spots her.\n\n ROADIE\n Duck!\n\n Roadie and Coach duck into the", "hole in the floor.\n\n Heroine and Bartender move in. When Teen Beast sticks his \n head out of the hole again, they thrust both their shotguns \n into each ear.\n\n HEROINE\n Now!\n\n BLAM-BLAM! The two shots scatter head everywhere.\n\n The flames in the bar spread, catching the entire wall and \n roof on fire.\n\n EXT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n The second barrel comes to a stop a good distance from", " Just watch the floor and keep the \n others safe!\n\n THUD! THUD! THUD! With a final furious strike, a few wood \n planks splinter. Papa Beast sticks in his head and hisses.\n\n BOZO\n Bomb's away!!!\n\n From the bar, Beer Guy, Tuffy, and Adulterer release the \n first peanut barrel. It's ablaze and sails straight for Papa \n Beast. BLAM! It explodes, burst", "two fingers.\n\n She swings again but gets whacked to the floor.\n\n Heroine rolls with the hit, grabs her shotgun, and dives \n into the KEG ELEVATOR.\n\n She slams closed the door as Teen Beast regains its composure \n and lunges. BAM! It CRASHES against the door.\n\n INT. TUNNEL -- NIGHT\n\n Roadie and Coach crawl to the platform by the exit.\n\n COACH\n They will write", " Coach's pants and boxers. He screams and lunges forward. He \n is BOTTOMLESS.\n\n HEROINE\n Everyone stay in the middle of the \n room! Off the walls! NOW!\n\n Everyone obeys her command to get in the middle of the room.\n\n Belle hands Coach a little menu to cover himself with.\n\n HEROINE\n Now, does everyone agree that they \n are still out there?\n\n The group nods.\n", "BOZO\n I didn't do it! It was fuckin' \n monsters, asshole!\n\n BOSS MAN\n Jesus Christ on the cross... someone \n make sense.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy. We're surrounded by something \n the likes none of you have ever seen \n before. Some kind of animals. Real \n fast, volatile, predators. One went \n through three of your patrons like \n nothing.\n\n", "other foot.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Heroine's picking fingers are bleeding from her effort.\n\n BOZO (O.S.)\n HELP ME PLEASE!!!\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man is pulled towards the Sister Beasts.\n\n BOSS MAN\n HELLLLLP!!!\n\n Roadie kicks open the door and FIRES at the Sisters. They \n dive back out of the room screeching.\n\n", "RAMPY\n Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!\n\n And with that, the shouting and pounding stops. The group \n nervously shuffles around the tables.\n\n There's silence.\n\n Dead silence.\n\n Then, far is the distance, beyond the walls, a sound is heard. \n It's screaming. And it's approaching. Rapidly. The survivors \n maneuver to peek out the front walls.\n\n BARTENDER\n What's that?\n", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole" ], [ "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", " Just watch the floor and keep the \n others safe!\n\n THUD! THUD! THUD! With a final furious strike, a few wood \n planks splinter. Papa Beast sticks in his head and hisses.\n\n BOZO\n Bomb's away!!!\n\n From the bar, Beer Guy, Tuffy, and Adulterer release the \n first peanut barrel. It's ablaze and sails straight for Papa \n Beast. BLAM! It explodes, burst", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", "ZO \n AGE: 32 \n JOB: UNEMPLOYED \n OCCUPATION: TOWN JACKASS \n LIFE EXPECTANCY: DEAD BY DAWN\n\n The rest of the parking lot is scattered with cars and pickup \n trucks. Bozo lazily makes his way to the bar and pushes \n through the front entrance --\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bozo passes a man dressed in a cheap suit and standing well \n over", "LEAK EXPLOSION DESTROYS \n HILLSIDE COMMUNITY\"\n\n CUT TO:\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n There is a HOLLER at the top of the stairs. Everyone turns.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Is it clear?!\n\n BARTENDER\n Yeah.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Is there a gun pointing at you?\n\n BARTENDER\n Nah,", "the wall. Fire and smoke \n fills the place.\n\n Adulterer douses Momma Beast with booze as Beer Guy nails \n her with a lit Molotov cocktail.\n\n WHOOSH! Engulfed in flame, she bolts from the bar shrieking.\n\n BOZO\n One down, one to go!!!\n\n Papa enters and is instantly cornered. He swings wildly.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Bartender)\n Help", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "hole in the floor.\n\n Heroine and Bartender move in. When Teen Beast sticks his \n head out of the hole again, they thrust both their shotguns \n into each ear.\n\n HEROINE\n Now!\n\n BLAM-BLAM! The two shots scatter head everywhere.\n\n The flames in the bar spread, catching the entire wall and \n roof on fire.\n\n EXT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n The second barrel comes to a stop a good distance from", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", "Beer Guy scans the stocked bar wall.\n\n BEER GUY\n I might be able to do something with \n the bottles.\n\n GRANDPA\n You're gonna need a whole lot more \n than that to get outta here alive.\n\n The crowd turns to face Grandpa and his wife.\n\n BOZO\n Oh, now you have something to say?\n\n Grandpa holds on to Grandma's hand as he speaks.\n\n ", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", "you'll do it fast!\n\n Bartender cocks his SHOTGUN.\n\n BARTENDER\n You hold it right there, mister.\n\n HERO\n A storm of hell's coming down on \n this place any minute!\n\n BARTENDER\n Drop the canon!\n\n Hero puts down the shotgun and moves towards Bartender.\n\n HERO\n I'm not armed now, just hear me out.\n\n B", "\n Bozo, mouthing the lyrics, struts away.\n\n NOTE: Music plays over all the bar sequences.\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n P.O.V. - We continue to run. Rapid breathing.\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Beer Guy (kinda handsome... just kinda) sets a keg of beer \n behind the bar. Freeze on him.\n\n NAME: BEER GUY \n AGE: 32 \n OCC", "ands out)\n Fine! Shotgun, please.\n\n Bartender hands him The Judge.\n\n BOZO\n (to Bartender)\n You're coming with, portly. 'Cause \n if I'm attacked, I want a fat man \n close by.\n\n BARTENDER\n I'll wait by the door.\n\n BOZO\n Now who else is comin'?\n\n No one budges.\n\n ", "RAMPY\n Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!\n\n And with that, the shouting and pounding stops. The group \n nervously shuffles around the tables.\n\n There's silence.\n\n Dead silence.\n\n Then, far is the distance, beyond the walls, a sound is heard. \n It's screaming. And it's approaching. Rapidly. The survivors \n maneuver to peek out the front walls.\n\n BARTENDER\n What's that?\n", "APHIC appears on screen.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n On a brighter note, or should I say \n a darker note, tomorrow's solar \n eclipse will bring out adults and \n children alike for a citywide fair \n of this metrological event. Stay \n tuned for our man on the street to \n take a closer look...\n\n INT. BAR -- BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Beer Guy pulls the keg from the elevator and places it", "O\n Come on. Come on. Come on.\n\n Bozo jumps when he sees the gore and the bloody shoes from \n Cody's attack. The TV illuminates the room.\n\n BOZO\n Geeezzzus.\n (moving gingerly)\n Okay, now. Easy steps. Easy breaths. \n Easy steps.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Belle kneels next to the Boss Man.\n\n BELLE\n ", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "the \n bar. Suddenly, the top is knocked off. Trampy sticks her \n head out.\n\n Seeing no trouble, she emerges, dizzy as hell, and races for \n the nearby BEER TRUCK.\n\n INT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n Papa and Momma Beast both charge the bar. The third peanut \n barrel is released. It sails for them, but they dive out of \n the way.\n\n KABLOOM! It takes out the rest of" ], [ " HERO\n They're like goddamn blood hungry \n biker tattoos come to life. They're \n clocking us. Right now. And we have \n to lock this bar down!\n (moving around)\n That means doors, windows, drains, \n and basements. We have to do it fast!\n\n Hero looks out the lone front window.\n\n HERO\n (looks to Belle)\n You! Get on that phone.", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", " BARTENDER\n Make it count.\n\n Heroine cringes, eyeing the lined up Molotov cocktails.\n\n HEROINE\n Let's prepare ourselves, they ought \n to be here with the truck any minute.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Bullshit.\n\n Boss Man sips a bottle, still hopped-up on morphine. He lazily \n loads his pistol from a pool of bullets on his belly.\n\n BO", "ARTENDER\n I'll drop you and not even think \n about it!\n\n HERO\n Let me explain!\n\n BARTENDER\n You got one second to --\n\n Hero reveals a drool-dripping, white, GRANDPA BEAST HEAD \n from the gunny sack and holds it out and for all to see.\n\n HERO\n Take a good look and listen to me! \n There's at least a four of these", "\n know is that these fuckers are fast, \n nasty, and hungry.\n\n The bar stares at him, slack-jawed.\n\n HERO\n And they can fly. Not to mention \n they got claws like Ginsu knifes and \n more teeth than a chainsaw.\n\n The Bartender lowers his shotgun slightly. Fast as a snake, \n Hero GRABS it. He notices the engraving, \"THE JUDGE.\"\n\n ", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "\n HEROINE\n Three of us go. Two to defend, one \n to drive. We back up to the bar and \n then tear ass out of here.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Sounds sketchy.\n\n HEROINE\n Let me make this clear; if we stay, \n we die.\n\n Boss Man reluctantly pulls out some keys that are on a string \n around his neck.\n\n ROADIE\n Give 'em to", " HEROINE\n Move it! Move it! Move it!\n\n As Teen Beast starts to tear at the base of the rising keg \n elevator in the shaft, Heroine pounds and tears at the few \n planks above her in the keg elevator.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy hits the button.\n\n BEER GUY\n Come on!\n\n BOZO\n Ol' Crazy Horse has seen it.\n\n TUFFY\n", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "the wall. Fire and smoke \n fills the place.\n\n Adulterer douses Momma Beast with booze as Beer Guy nails \n her with a lit Molotov cocktail.\n\n WHOOSH! Engulfed in flame, she bolts from the bar shrieking.\n\n BOZO\n One down, one to go!!!\n\n Papa enters and is instantly cornered. He swings wildly.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Bartender)\n Help", ", I have \n locker with a sawed-off and some \n gardening tools. Maybe a few boxes \n of shells.\n\n BARTENDER\n I got shells, too. Box and a half \n tops. Machete behind the bar.\n\n HEROINE\n Okay, well that's something.\n\n ROADIE\n So we've got guns, kitchen knives, \n pipes, fire and sticks.\n\n ", "\n and tosses it out.\n\n HEROINE\n Alright, we need to stay alert and \n for everyone to take a role.\n (to Boss Man)\n You gotta have some guns or weapons \n around here.\n\n Boss Man, pale and morphine pumped, sits at a table with his \n foot raised.\n\n BOSS MAN\n I got my .38 here. That's six shots \n and two refills. Downstairs", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", "OMITS on the windshield.\n\n HERO\n Break!\n\n Heroine slams on the breaks. Grandpa Beast slides back, \n holding onto the grill.\n\n HERO\n Go! Go! Go!\n\n Grandpa Beast tears into the engine through the grill as \n sparks and smoke shoot out. Heroine jerks the steering wheel.\n\n HERO\n Look out!\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n HERO", "hand shakes as he raises his weapon.\n\n ROADIE\n Scared?\n\n COACH\n No. You?\n\n ROADIE\n Of course not. I fight monsters all \n the time.\n (gripping the door)\n On three.\n\n Roadie, Heroine raise their weapons.\n\n COACH\n One... two... three!!!\n\n Roadie whips open the door. Nothing.\n\n BANG-G", "Heroine and Charlie stare back at \n the men, huddled together in a defensive stance.\n\n The Man in Tan creaks his neck.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Gentlemen, help them to safety.\n\n Heroine, holding Charlie, lurches back.\n\n HEROINE\n You're not safe, she's still alive, \n she'll be back...\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Relax. We know. We're the", "The two halves spring \n appendages and raise their heads. The TWIN SISTER BEASTS \n have been born.\n\n Papa moves forward and cleans off his new baby girls. The \n Beast Girls look at the bar and hiss in unison.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Heroine's eyes bulge.\n\n HEROINE\n Get back!\n\n SLAM-SLAM! The two hissing Beast Girls strike the bar front.\n\n Roadie", "Heroine to the tunnel.\n\n SLURP! A pink tongue LASSOS the mouse.\n\n A red fluorescent glow radiates from the tunnel. They all \n drop in, one by one, entering the steamy, confined space.\n\n COACH\n Looks like a brothel for plants.\n\n ROADIE\n Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Tuffy stands by a far wall, looking through the planks for \n movement." ], [ "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "terer's chin.\n\n HEROINE\n You can risk your life, but not mine! \n My daughter's no more than twenty \n miles from here waiting for me. I \n have just as much reason to leave \n this place as you do. But I also \n know that if they're here, then \n they're not there yet.\n\n Adulterer squirms.\n\n HEROINE\n You understand me?\n\n ", "\n HEROINE\n (to Bozo)\n 'Eh, Chief?\n\n BOZO\n ...Duh.\n\n Trampy holds Adulterer's wounded head.\n\n TRAMPY\n He's out cold.\n\n BELLE\n I know some first aid if we have a \n kit. Do we?\n\n BOSS MAN\n In the kitchen, under the sink.\n\n H", "\n HEROINE\n HELP ME! SOMEBODY!\n\n Old Vet and Harley Mom rush to Heroine's aid. They raise the \n table to cover the gaping hole. Heroine looks outside.\n\n HEROINE\n GET DOWN!\n\n A BEAST nails the rising table, just missing Heroine's face.\n\n The table falls, pinning Heroine.\n\n JUNIOR BEAST enters. He's small and too fast to see well.\n\n", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", ".\n\n She creeps out alone.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you... come on...\n\n Nothing. Just smoke. And silence.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Come on!\n\n From the smoke, a smoldering Momma Beast charges like a bull.\n\n At the truck, Heroine opens the back doors and dives in, \n leaving the doors open. Momma Beast gives chase, entering \n the back.\n\n INSIDE TRUCK\n\n ", "OMITS on the windshield.\n\n HERO\n Break!\n\n Heroine slams on the breaks. Grandpa Beast slides back, \n holding onto the grill.\n\n HERO\n Go! Go! Go!\n\n Grandpa Beast tears into the engine through the grill as \n sparks and smoke shoot out. Heroine jerks the steering wheel.\n\n HERO\n Look out!\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n HERO", " HEROINE\n Move it! Move it! Move it!\n\n As Teen Beast starts to tear at the base of the rising keg \n elevator in the shaft, Heroine pounds and tears at the few \n planks above her in the keg elevator.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy hits the button.\n\n BEER GUY\n Come on!\n\n BOZO\n Ol' Crazy Horse has seen it.\n\n TUFFY\n", "are over \n at the TV station? And you say there's \n four here, huh?\n\n HEROINE\n It appears so.\n\n COACH\n There's five here now, actually.\n\n BOZO\n Yeah, thanks for that.\n\n PARA\n (to Heroine)\n Hey, you lived on a farm, right?\n\n HEROINE\n Yeah.\n\n ADULTERER", "Heroine is deep into the truck as Momma Beast enters. She \n advances, hissing.\n\n HEROINE\n Come and get me you blood-chugging \n CUNT!\n\n Momma howls and charges. Heroine slides out the side keg \n door, locking it behind her. Before Momma can see the trap, \n Beer Guy slam closed the rear doors.\n\n OUTSIDE TRUCK\n\n Beer Guy latches it. Trampy comes around the truck.", "have...\n\n TUFFY\n Don't worry about that. Just go.\n\n Moment of silence as Adulterer and Tuffy look down the \n desolate road.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm sorry about your son. I really \n am.\n\n Tuffy nods, affectionately touching his hand.\n\n ADULTERER\n Where are you two going?\n\n HEROINE\n We're going to get my little", " awkwardly. She cries and blood stains her dress.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie!\n\n As Heroine nears, Adulterer GRABS her arm.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop! There's something wrong!\n\n HEROINE\n Honey!?\n\n The group eyes Charlie, noticing Heroine's locket around her \n ankle, leading to a slightly ajar manhole cover. Suddenly, \n the sunlight starts to FADE. They", "Heroine and Charlie stare back at \n the men, huddled together in a defensive stance.\n\n The Man in Tan creaks his neck.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Gentlemen, help them to safety.\n\n Heroine, holding Charlie, lurches back.\n\n HEROINE\n You're not safe, she's still alive, \n she'll be back...\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Relax. We know. We're the", ": As Heroine describes each beast, we see a slight glimpse \n of their virtues, hidden mainly by shadows and fog.\n\n HEROINE\n The next one is taller, but all out \n of proportion. Like a \"teen beast.\"\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n TEEN BEAST has a big head and awkward body. He clumsily moves \n and seems uncomfortable in his own skin.\n\n HEROINE (V.O.)\n He was spastic", " ADULTERER\n Get the fuck off...\n\n HEROINE\n You understand me!?\n\n ADULTERER\n Yes!\n\n HEROINE\n Now pull that tough boy shit again \n and I'll slice you from neck to nuts!\n\n Adulterer nods obediently. Heroine removes the knife from \n his neck and plants it back into her buckle.\n\n ADULTERER\n You can't", "sheepishly nods.\n\n HEROINE\n This place is a ghost town.\n\n The group makes their way to the store front, peeking beyond \n the glass doors.\n\n ADULTERER\n (pointing)\n Look!\n\n In the distance, in middle of a dusty parking lot, CHARLIE \n stands staring at them.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie?\n\n Heroine runs to her and the others follow. Charlie fidgets \n", " BOZO\n They're probably on to the next buffet \n by now. There's a retirement home up \n the road, they'd be easy pickings.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Adulterer)\n Careful.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm telling you, I don't see a thing --\n\n BOINK! Papa Beast's claw POKES into his eye. Adulterer JERKS \n away", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", " HERO\n They're like goddamn blood hungry \n biker tattoos come to life. They're \n clocking us. Right now. And we have \n to lock this bar down!\n (moving around)\n That means doors, windows, drains, \n and basements. We have to do it fast!\n\n Hero looks out the lone front window.\n\n HERO\n (looks to Belle)\n You! Get on that phone.", " If I throw a stick, will you go away?\n\n BOZO\n That's just horse shit.\n\n HEROINE\n Relax, they don't know anything.\n\n BOZO\n Yeah... allegedly.\n\n Bozo saunters off.\n\n PARA\n (to Heroine)\n Hey, where was your farm?\n\n HEROINE\n (points to map)\n East. Why?\n\n " ], [ "(beat)\n Is that the only phone?\n\n Bartender emerges from the back holding a mess of plastic \n and wires.\n\n BARTENDER\n The back phone is wrecked, too.\n\n Trampy's eyes light up and she digs through her purse.\n\n BELLE\n This is really happening. I can't \n believe this is really happening.\n\n Grandpa and Grandma have calmly re-taken their seats.\n\n ", "do we have? Can \n we somehow contact the outside world?\n\n Trampy pensively stays on her fractured phone.\n\n TRAMPY\n I can't get anybody. I don't even \n know if I have a signal anymore.\n\n BEER GUY\n I have a CB in my truck, we could \n get some help out here.\n\n BARTENDER\n Who the hell would you call?\n\n BEER GU", "CELLULAR PHONE from her purse.\n\n TRAMPY\n Here!\n\n The group looks over. Adulterer GRABS it.\n\n TRAMPY\n Hey!\n\n ADULTERER\n Back off!\n\n Beer Guy walks from behind the bar.\n\n BEER GUY\n So, what now? Did those things leave?\n\n BOZO\n Why don't you go check it out?\n\n", " with some wires in the back, bringing back the picture.\n\n BOZO\n Anything?\n\n PARA\n Yeah, you got it.\n\n The bar takes notice. Trampy, cell phone in hand, paws through \n a phone book as she watches the broadcast.\n\n BELLE\n See! This has to be isolated. That's \n a local broadcast.\n\n ON TV: The Newscaster reads the teleprompter.\n\n NEW", "Bartender.\n\n BEER GUY\n Oh god...\n\n He hands him a towel. Tuffy slowly walks towards the rest of \n the patrons. The blood on her face and chest tells them what \n happened. The horror hits home.\n\n Heroine eyes the destroyed phone.\n\n COACH\n (to Tuffy)\n Are you --\n\n Heroine puts a hand up to silence Coach.\n\n HEROINE\n Just let her be... please.\n ", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", " BEER GUY\n Fuck no.\n\n ADULTERER\n (into cell phone)\n I have a signal! I have -- Diane? \n Diane listen to me... get the kids \n and get in the basement... do it \n right now...\n\n Trampy stares with grief in her eyes.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'll explain later. Not now! I'm at \n a bar... look... shut up!", "\n CB. It is like an intercom with a cable running outside. He \n drops the shotgun and fidgets with the CB knobs.\n\n BOZO\n Hello? Anyone there? We need help \n out here at the United Nations Tavern. \n Send guns, tanks, and all that shit. \n 10-4. S.O.S.\n\n All he gets is static. A faint GROWL is heard outside. OUTSIDE \n THE DOOR Bartender hears the", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", " HERO\n They're like goddamn blood hungry \n biker tattoos come to life. They're \n clocking us. Right now. And we have \n to lock this bar down!\n (moving around)\n That means doors, windows, drains, \n and basements. We have to do it fast!\n\n Hero looks out the lone front window.\n\n HERO\n (looks to Belle)\n You! Get on that phone.", "CY: STAY FAR, FAR AWAY\n\n CLICK. The pay phone goes dead.\n\n COACH\n Son of a --\n (deep breath, soothing)\n In with anger, out with love.\n\n Further into the bar, a man in a wheelchair loads a quarter \n into an old jukebox, but he is instantly pushed away by Bozo.\n\n Freeze on him.\n\n NAME: PARA \n AGE: 29 \n OCCUPATION:", "hole in the floor.\n\n Heroine and Bartender move in. When Teen Beast sticks his \n head out of the hole again, they thrust both their shotguns \n into each ear.\n\n HEROINE\n Now!\n\n BLAM-BLAM! The two shots scatter head everywhere.\n\n The flames in the bar spread, catching the entire wall and \n roof on fire.\n\n EXT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n The second barrel comes to a stop a good distance from", "turns to Beer Guy.\n\n BARTENDER\n Was that the last keg?\n\n BEER GUY\n Yup, one keg of Beast for the \n basement, then the truck's dry.\n\n BARTENDER\n If you're stayin', move the truck, \n boss gets pissed about you using \n primo parking.\n\n Beer Guy downs his shot and hoists the lone keg into the \n waiting ke", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "broke out.\n\n The group is silent.\n\n BOZO\n The first order of business is gettin' \n a big fuckin' tampon in that cave!\n\n PARA\n Nope, that wouldn't do it.\n\n FROM ADULTERER'S P.O.V. - He peeks out the hole and sees \n nothing but the dark night. Bartender eyes him.\n\n BARTENDER\n I wouldn't do that.\n\n ", "ICK! It breaks off in \n the lock.\n\n BARTENDER\n Oh!\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n\n BOZO\n \"OH!?\" WHAT IS \"OH?\" What does \"oh\" \n mean?\n\n Bozo knocks on the door hard.\n\n BOZO\n HEY! OPEN IT!!!\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Bartender looks to Coach.\n\n BARTENDER\n ", "INE\n F-f-fuck you.\n\n BARTENDER\n What the hell happened?\n\n TUFFY\n You okay?\n\n HEROINE\n I think they made it.\n\n She turns to Adulterer, rigid.\n\n HEROINE\n Stop trying to get people killed. It \n is getting very old.\n\n Adulterer nods, ashamed. Heroine looks around the bar. She \n notices", ")\n Hello? Yes, we're at the United --\n\n ON TV: the Newscaster continues his routine.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ...it has been reported that the \n power outage --\n\n A Beast arm REACHES in and TEARS off Newscaster's jaw. The \n bar gasps in horror as his blood sprays. ZAP! The broadcast \n cuts out, turning to static.\n\n Trampy screams and DROPS the cell, SHATTERING", "JUST SHUT \n UP AND GET IN THE FUCKING BASEMENT, \n DIANE! Diane! Diane?... Hello? Damn \n it! I lost the signal!\n\n Adulterer looks at the phone a bit dazed.\n\n ADULTERER\n Okay. Okay. Look now, I gotta get \n outta here! I gotta go! My wife... \n See my wife is alone... She could be \n in trouble. I GOTTA" ], [ "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "me. They like the \n food that moves...\n\n CRASH! Teen Beast's arm ERUPTS through the Boss Man's belly.\n\n His pistol and bullets scatter across the floor.\n\n BOSS MAN\n OHHH!!!\n\n SNAPPP!!! His head and legs SLAP together as the arm pulls \n him through a small hole in the floor.\n\n The group jumps back. Blood rockets out. His body is pureed \n down the tiny hole.\n\n ", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "the portal window and RIPS \n Cody's torso from Tuffy's grasp. Tuffy holds his DANGLING \n ARMS. Blood sprays everywhere.\n\n TUFFY\n NOOOOOOOO!\n\n Papa Beast LUNGES at Tuffy! Bartender SHOOTS, nailing Papa \n Beast. He hisses, but can't fit through the small window.\n\n Bartender aims again for a kill shot, but Papa Beast \n projectile vomits Cody", "H SMALL HOLES\n\n Unlike humans, Papa Beast finishes and the birth cycle lasts \n all of thirty seconds. Momma Beast's belly balloons up and \n she squats. POP! A SLIMY OBJECT the size and shape of a vacuum \n cleaner drops from her.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Trampy VOMITS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n The slimy object SPLITS in half.", "\n things out there!\n\n Grandpa Beast's head has large red eyeballs and a mouth full \n of jagged, ivory white teeth. It is like an albino jackal \n head with spiked hair.\n\n HERO\n I saw one of them tear up five men \n like they were corn on the cob!\n (off silence, shock)\n I don't know what they are. I don't \n know where they came from. All I do ", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "he wasn't aiming at \n the officers...\n (getting closer)\n ...he was firing at something inside.\n\n College Boy is rapt.\n\n CHIEF\n When the dust cleared, all they found \n was the little girl's shoes.\n (beat)\n With the feet still in 'em.\n\n Something GRABS College Boy's ankles, causing him to jump.\n\n COLLEGE BOY\n Ahh!!!\n\n", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "BOZO\n I didn't do it! It was fuckin' \n monsters, asshole!\n\n BOSS MAN\n Jesus Christ on the cross... someone \n make sense.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy. We're surrounded by something \n the likes none of you have ever seen \n before. Some kind of animals. Real \n fast, volatile, predators. One went \n through three of your patrons like \n nothing.\n\n", "second, she \n BREAKS the chain, popping herself free.\n\n She spins, running for safety. A guttural HOWL behind her \n fills the cavern. Mean Green sprints toward the cave opening. \n She's gonna make it. Only a few more feet. And then... JERK!\n\n Something grabs her neck and YANKS her back into the darkness. \n The whiplash sends her bloody BULLHORN flying into the light. \n As it lands, it lets out one", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "holding his blood squirting eye socket.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n P.O.V. - The eye sees its owner stumble back and fall to \n the floor holding his face.\n\n INSIDE\n\n Coach and Trampy move to help Adulterer.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n The eyeball fires into Papa's drooling mega-mouth. SLURP!\n\n INSIDE\n\n BASH! A Beast arm BURSTS through the side wall and SNAGS \n", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", "HERO\n Holy mother of...\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine has the group mesmerized.\n\n HEROINE\n We barricaded ourselves in the cellar. \n Then it was just listening. We heard \n those things destroy an entire heard \n of livestock. They just kept coming. \n Closer and closer, consuming anything \n in the way. Slashing, feeding and \n licking the bones clean. Just when \n ", " Coach's pants and boxers. He screams and lunges forward. He \n is BOTTOMLESS.\n\n HEROINE\n Everyone stay in the middle of the \n room! Off the walls! NOW!\n\n Everyone obeys her command to get in the middle of the room.\n\n Belle hands Coach a little menu to cover himself with.\n\n HEROINE\n Now, does everyone agree that they \n are still out there?\n\n The group nods.\n", "ing open the wall and knocking \n back Papa Beast. The wooden walls go up in flame.\n\n Para, on a side table, reaches out and grabs Boss Man's .38 \n from the floor.\n\n The second peanut barrel is released. It sails outside the \n breach, but it doesn't explode. Nevertheless, the Beasts \n stay far away.\n\n Teen Beast madly rips floor boards away, moving towards Para's \n table. Teen Beast bursts through the" ], [ "H SMALL HOLES\n\n Unlike humans, Papa Beast finishes and the birth cycle lasts \n all of thirty seconds. Momma Beast's belly balloons up and \n she squats. POP! A SLIMY OBJECT the size and shape of a vacuum \n cleaner drops from her.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Trampy VOMITS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n The slimy object SPLITS in half.", "The two halves spring \n appendages and raise their heads. The TWIN SISTER BEASTS \n have been born.\n\n Papa moves forward and cleans off his new baby girls. The \n Beast Girls look at the bar and hiss in unison.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Heroine's eyes bulge.\n\n HEROINE\n Get back!\n\n SLAM-SLAM! The two hissing Beast Girls strike the bar front.\n\n Roadie", "uffy reaches back and shoves her fist into Papa Beast's \n mouth, jamming it down his throat. He instantly gags, sucking \n for air.\n\n Papa Beast struggles to get free, but the others hold tight.\n\n Papa Beast's body begins to quiver from a lack of oxygen.\n\n His eyes widen, face to face with Tuffy.\n\n TUFFY\n CHOKE ON IT!!!\n\n With one last lunge, Papa Beast shakes, his life drifting ", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "holding his blood squirting eye socket.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n P.O.V. - The eye sees its owner stumble back and fall to \n the floor holding his face.\n\n INSIDE\n\n Coach and Trampy move to help Adulterer.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n The eyeball fires into Papa's drooling mega-mouth. SLURP!\n\n INSIDE\n\n BASH! A Beast arm BURSTS through the side wall and SNAGS \n", " and those flow lines were condemned, \n but never drained.\n\n COACH\n Cheese n' rice...\n\n TRAMPY\n I still don't get it.\n\n PARA\n What I am saying is... there's a \n distinct possibility that what we \n are up against is the result of steady \n stream of blood and tissue that has \n been leaking into the caves. And a \n day ago... something", "vers to get a better look.\n\n TRAMPY\n Oh... my... god.\n\n PARA\n What are they doing now?\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Yes, Momma Beast and Papa Beast are having MONSTER SEX.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n BOZO\n Dude, they're humpin'!\n\n P.O.V. - THROUG", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", "second, she \n BREAKS the chain, popping herself free.\n\n She spins, running for safety. A guttural HOWL behind her \n fills the cavern. Mean Green sprints toward the cave opening. \n She's gonna make it. Only a few more feet. And then... JERK!\n\n Something grabs her neck and YANKS her back into the darkness. \n The whiplash sends her bloody BULLHORN flying into the light. \n As it lands, it lets out one", ": As Heroine describes each beast, we see a slight glimpse \n of their virtues, hidden mainly by shadows and fog.\n\n HEROINE\n The next one is taller, but all out \n of proportion. Like a \"teen beast.\"\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n TEEN BEAST has a big head and awkward body. He clumsily moves \n and seems uncomfortable in his own skin.\n\n HEROINE (V.O.)\n He was spastic", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "gun, and rips \n open the keg door. Heroine swings out.\n\n P.O.V. - Teen Beast is right behind her with mouth open and \n ready to feed. Tuffy points her shotgun.\n\n BLAM! Teen lurches back, dropping back down the shaft.\n\n Tuffy slams the keg door shut. Heroine pants on the floor.\n\n Adulterer is down, winded.\n\n BOZO\n Welcome back.\n\n HERO", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the", "HERO\n Holy mother of...\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine has the group mesmerized.\n\n HEROINE\n We barricaded ourselves in the cellar. \n Then it was just listening. We heard \n those things destroy an entire heard \n of livestock. They just kept coming. \n Closer and closer, consuming anything \n in the way. Slashing, feeding and \n licking the bones clean. Just when \n ", "Heroine is deep into the truck as Momma Beast enters. She \n advances, hissing.\n\n HEROINE\n Come and get me you blood-chugging \n CUNT!\n\n Momma howls and charges. Heroine slides out the side keg \n door, locking it behind her. Before Momma can see the trap, \n Beer Guy slam closed the rear doors.\n\n OUTSIDE TRUCK\n\n Beer Guy latches it. Trampy comes around the truck.", "me. They like the \n food that moves...\n\n CRASH! Teen Beast's arm ERUPTS through the Boss Man's belly.\n\n His pistol and bullets scatter across the floor.\n\n BOSS MAN\n OHHH!!!\n\n SNAPPP!!! His head and legs SLAP together as the arm pulls \n him through a small hole in the floor.\n\n The group jumps back. Blood rockets out. His body is pureed \n down the tiny hole.\n\n " ], [ " BELLE\n (touching his crotch)\n How 'bout now?\n\n BOSS MAN\n You're a bad girl, aren't you.\n\n Belle, a bit high, sways and starts to remove her clothes.\n\n BELLE\n Um-hmmm.\n\n BOSS MAN\n The girl's got rhythm.\n\n She takes off her blouse and tosses it at him. She then lifts \n up her", "her blouse exposing her \n breasts. She pulls up her skirt and bends over a bedpost.\n\n TUFFY\n Let's get this over with.\n\n Boss Man walks up naked, except for red cowboy boots.\n\n BOSS MAN\n I love a woman with enthusiasm.\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Bozo walks to the middle of the room.\n\n BOZO\n I got two hundred bucks says none of \n you", "growl, his eyes grow wide.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Belle rubs her hands over her rounded ass and flicks her \n tongue at Boss Man.\n\n BELLE\n You wanna see, baby?\n\n BOSS MAN\n Hell yeah.\n\n BELLE\n How much you got?\n\n BOSS MAN\n How much I got, what?\n\n BELLE\n How much you", "\n Oh, fuck!\n\n MEAN GREEN\n Sister, why do you always swing for \n the fences?\n\n FUZZY\n (eyeing breach)\n It's okay, but I... I think I see \n something in there... something shiny.\n\n Fuzzy puts her face up to the hole for a closer look. The \n rest of the hippie-chain moves in closer.\n\n FUZZY\n Oh my, it", "\n taking the locket with her.\n\n Heroine lets out her breath, reaching around her neck for \n what is no longer there. The truck SKIDS to a halt. Tuffy \n jumps out.\n\n TUFFY\n Are you okay?!\n\n HEROINE\n I don't know, I think --\n\n ADULTERER (O.S.)\n Hey!\n\n They both jump as Adulterer approaches.\n\n ADULTERER\n", "skirt and bends over, giggling.\n\n BOSS MAN\n There it is.\n\n BASEMENT\n\n Roadie emerges with two crates. He dumps them on the floor.\n\n ROADIE\n This is all junk.\n\n Beer Guy holds a rusted machete.\n\n BEER GUY\n This could come in handy.\n\n HEROINE\n Let's get everything upstairs.\n\n Heroine moves to the stairs,", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", "farm hand) laugh at a TV show while Heroine paces on the \n telephone in the background.\n\n HEROINE\n (into phone)\n So, how is staying with Grandma \n working out? Ya know, if you stare \n into her glasses, you can see what \n cards she is holding. But I didn't \n tell you that.\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- CONTINUOUS\n\n There's a home on the horizon with a", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", " Since then, it's been like a damn \n country song: she's gone, the car's \n repossessed, and a father figure \n made a pass at me. I'm not saying I \n ever had it. But I have definitely \n lost it.\n (beat)\n Now I haul this swill from armpit to \n armpit. I used to be a model for \n Christ's sake.\n\n Coach has been eavesdro", "Works like a charm.\n\n BELLE\n No other time than now, right?\n\n BOSS MAN\n Wait, before you do that, help me \n move. There's a small room off the \n kitchen where I can lay down.\n\n BELLE\n But --\n\n BOSS MAN\n It's much safer in there. Trust me.\n\n BASEMENT\n\n The basement is dark, dingy and scattered with crap.", "wedding band falls and bounces. As it rolls, \n Tuffy, Trampy and Adulterer watch.\n\n The ring stops, standing still on its side.\n\n Trampy seethes as she chooses which obscenity to deliver.\n\n Adulterer slides a wad of cash to Tuffy.\n\n ADULTERER\n Just bring the whole bottle.\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n P.O.V. - Sprinting and wheezing", " BOZO\n They're probably on to the next buffet \n by now. There's a retirement home up \n the road, they'd be easy pickings.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Adulterer)\n Careful.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm telling you, I don't see a thing --\n\n BOINK! Papa Beast's claw POKES into his eye. Adulterer JERKS \n away", " awkwardly. She cries and blood stains her dress.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie!\n\n As Heroine nears, Adulterer GRABS her arm.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop! There's something wrong!\n\n HEROINE\n Honey!?\n\n The group eyes Charlie, noticing Heroine's locket around her \n ankle, leading to a slightly ajar manhole cover. Suddenly, \n the sunlight starts to FADE. They", "\n Ripping, tearing, and howling echoes off the walls.\n\n Bearded Cameraman stumbles back. Mean Green spots him.\n\n MEAN GREEN\n Give me the keys!!!\n\n Bearded Camerman just stares at her in shock. He's missing \n both his arms.\n\n Mean Green lunges and grabs Chief's dropped pick-axe. She \n HAMMERS at the chain around her waist.\n\n Foot by foot, she's dragged closer. At the last", "--\n\n BELLE\n What's this? A power magnet or \n something?\n\n PARA\n No. It's nothing.\n\n Belle puts together his scam with a smirk.\n\n BELLE\n I didn't peg you for a con man.\n\n PARA\n Hey, it pays more than the couch.\n\n BELLE\n Lots of stuff around here does.\n\n Trampy pulls out a", " HEROINE\n Move it! Move it! Move it!\n\n As Teen Beast starts to tear at the base of the rising keg \n elevator in the shaft, Heroine pounds and tears at the few \n planks above her in the keg elevator.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy hits the button.\n\n BEER GUY\n Come on!\n\n BOZO\n Ol' Crazy Horse has seen it.\n\n TUFFY\n", "...\n\n COACH\n He is human kabob.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n The room is like a converted pantry. Boss Man lies on a cot, \n kissing Belle. A tiny wall fan spins providing ventilation.\n\n Belle pulls away and brushes back her long hair.\n\n BELLE\n Doesn't your foot hurt?\n\n BOSS MAN\n I can't feel a thing, Hon.\n\n ", "got to see the show?\n\n BOSS MAN\n You don't understand, sweety. Daddy \n doesn't pay. Daddy sees the show for \n free. But you do get points for being \n horny on a night like this.\n\n She cringes and backs up a little.\n\n BELLE\n What?\n\n BOSS MAN\n You can't expect a man to buy a car \n without a test drive first, can you" ], [ " (to Heroine)\n Get out of water!!!\n\n Heroine sees what he's doing, sprints back the way they came.\n\n As the two Beasts charge, Coach pulls himself out of the \n water by holding onto the above piping. He's forced to wait \n for Heroine to get out of the water.\n\n The second she does, he jams the cord into the water.\n\n ZAP! The conductive water sizzles. Sister Beast #1 and Sister \n Beast #2 lock up", "trying to burrow through the \n tunnel walls.\n\n HEROINE\n Move.\n\n The scratching sound increases, now heard from the far end \n of the tunnel as well.\n\n COACH\n Like moles these things.\n\n Then, Sister Beast #1 drops into the tunnel from the far \n end.\n\n She charges. At the last second, Roadie spots her.\n\n ROADIE\n Duck!\n\n Roadie and Coach duck into the", " Coach's pants and boxers. He screams and lunges forward. He \n is BOTTOMLESS.\n\n HEROINE\n Everyone stay in the middle of the \n room! Off the walls! NOW!\n\n Everyone obeys her command to get in the middle of the room.\n\n Belle hands Coach a little menu to cover himself with.\n\n HEROINE\n Now, does everyone agree that they \n are still out there?\n\n The group nods.\n", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "closing in. The men are trapped. Coach \n looks around, seeing a plan.\n\n COACH\n Grab onto ceiling and get out of \n water!\n\n ROADIE\n What?\n\n COACH\n Do it!!!\n\n Grabbing onto the piping along the ceiling, Roadie pulls \n himself from the water. Coach uses the machete to cut a power \n cord from above. He grabs the exposed, sparking end.\n\n COACH\n ", "ONG-GONG! Some pipes CRASH to the ground next to them... \n they jump, but nothing is there. A LITTLE MOUSE emerges from \n the fallen heap.\n\n COACH\n Well, look at that.\n\n Coach leans down and puts out his hand. He smiles as Heroine \n watches over his shoulder.\n\n COACH\n Hey, little fella.\n\n HEROINE\n Let's go.\n\n He leaves the mouse and follows", "Heroine to the tunnel.\n\n SLURP! A pink tongue LASSOS the mouse.\n\n A red fluorescent glow radiates from the tunnel. They all \n drop in, one by one, entering the steamy, confined space.\n\n COACH\n Looks like a brothel for plants.\n\n ROADIE\n Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Tuffy stands by a far wall, looking through the planks for \n movement.", "hand shakes as he raises his weapon.\n\n ROADIE\n Scared?\n\n COACH\n No. You?\n\n ROADIE\n Of course not. I fight monsters all \n the time.\n (gripping the door)\n On three.\n\n Roadie, Heroine raise their weapons.\n\n COACH\n One... two... three!!!\n\n Roadie whips open the door. Nothing.\n\n BANG-G", "back against the wall.\n\n Sister Beast #1 pokes her head inside the room, hissing. \n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Heroine and the others, just returning from the basement, \n hear the mayhem from upstairs and the kitchen.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Coach fumbles desperately with the jammed lock, trying to \n use his fingernails to turn the metal stump.\n\n COACH\n Great god, why do you damn me?!\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "ourage is being scared to death, \n but saddling up anyway.\"\n (off blank stares)\n The Duke. I will go.\n\n HEROINE\n This is it. They have this place \n surrounded, but if we go under them \n we might just make it.\n\n BARTENDER\n This is a bottleneck waiting to \n happen.\n\n SMACK! Bozo SLAPS Coach's ass.\n\n BOZ", "Heroine is deep into the truck as Momma Beast enters. She \n advances, hissing.\n\n HEROINE\n Come and get me you blood-chugging \n CUNT!\n\n Momma howls and charges. Heroine slides out the side keg \n door, locking it behind her. Before Momma can see the trap, \n Beer Guy slam closed the rear doors.\n\n OUTSIDE TRUCK\n\n Beer Guy latches it. Trampy comes around the truck.", " HEROINE\n Move it! Move it! Move it!\n\n As Teen Beast starts to tear at the base of the rising keg \n elevator in the shaft, Heroine pounds and tears at the few \n planks above her in the keg elevator.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy hits the button.\n\n BEER GUY\n Come on!\n\n BOZO\n Ol' Crazy Horse has seen it.\n\n TUFFY\n", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", "a stand! Right here! Right now!\n\n Long silence. Bozo stares.\n\n BOZO\n Dude, are you gay?\n\n Coach sits down, humbled.\n\n HEROINE\n We know what not to do. We must stay \n focused and together. The beasts \n will find a breach. We gotta find a \n way out before they find a way in.\n\n TUFFY\n Let's run for the cars, cause", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", "!\n\n HEROINE\n (to Coach)\n Move it!\n\n Heroine rips the earring from Bartender's ear. He YELPS. She \n jams the backing into the lock.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man crawls for the door. Sister Beast #1 fires out a \n whip-like tongue and snags Boss Man's damaged foot. He howls \n in pain. Sister Beast #2 tongue-lasso's his" ], [ " Heroine covers her daughter's ears as the survivors are helped \n into the truck. Tuffy sits, looking to Bozo.\n\n TUFFY\n How'd you survive?\n\n BOZO\n I found a new weak spot on 'em, but \n it damn ain't pretty getting to it.\n\n Heroine, last in the truck, turns to the men.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you taking us?\n\n THE MAN IN TAN", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", "Tuffy pushes out \n Bartender's corpse and JERKS the wheel.\n\n IN THE BACK\n\n Momma Beast falls back, knocking down Heroine. Momma Beast \n nearly falls out, but manages to grab the rear gate with one \n claw. Defenseless, Heroine backs away. Momma Beast holds on \n tightly, pulling herself onto the bed of the truck.\n\n Tuffy stares back through the glass, unable to do anything.\n\n Momma Beast lunges towards Hero", "uffy and Bartender jump into his PICKUP TRUCK.\n\n TUFFY\n (to Heroine)\n Get in!\n\n Heroine hops in the back.\n\n Beer Guy and Adulterer run to a car together. Beer Guy lags \n behind, continually looking over his shoulder.\n\n ADULTERER\n Run and quit looking back!\n\n As Beer Guy looks forward, Aunt Beast and Uncle Beast hit \n him HIGH-AND-LOW,", ".\n\n She creeps out alone.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you... come on...\n\n Nothing. Just smoke. And silence.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Come on!\n\n From the smoke, a smoldering Momma Beast charges like a bull.\n\n At the truck, Heroine opens the back doors and dives in, \n leaving the doors open. Momma Beast gives chase, entering \n the back.\n\n INSIDE TRUCK\n\n ", "Heroine is deep into the truck as Momma Beast enters. She \n advances, hissing.\n\n HEROINE\n Come and get me you blood-chugging \n CUNT!\n\n Momma howls and charges. Heroine slides out the side keg \n door, locking it behind her. Before Momma can see the trap, \n Beer Guy slam closed the rear doors.\n\n OUTSIDE TRUCK\n\n Beer Guy latches it. Trampy comes around the truck.", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", "CK!\n\n A deafening pattern of sound erupts from within the truck.\n\n It's Momma Beast. Again and again.\n\n TUFFY\n What is that?\n\n HEROINE\n She's calling for help.\n\n Heroine drops the lighter onto the fuel. It races for the \n truck. When feet away, COUSIN BEAST lands, stomping out the \n fire with his foot.\n\n BOZO\n The fan has officially", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "\n taking the locket with her.\n\n Heroine lets out her breath, reaching around her neck for \n what is no longer there. The truck SKIDS to a halt. Tuffy \n jumps out.\n\n TUFFY\n Are you okay?!\n\n HEROINE\n I don't know, I think --\n\n ADULTERER (O.S.)\n Hey!\n\n They both jump as Adulterer approaches.\n\n ADULTERER\n", "BOSS MAN\n It spits out behind the parking lot.\n\n BOSS MAN\n My truck is near, but it ain't nearly \n big enough to haul the whole lot.\n\n HEROINE\n It's a shot. Is it gassed up?\n\n BOSS MAN\n Fully.\n\n HEROINE\n Four door?\n\n BOSS MAN\n Two.\n\n HEROINE\n ", "stories of your \n bravery.\n\n ROADIE\n If there's anybody left.\n\n The two men climb up the ladder leading to the ground above.\n\n At the top, Roadie pushes off the plywood covering. The two \n men peer into the night and spot the TRUCK.\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine wedges the door closed. The Beast continues to try \n to get in. Heroine bangs the top of the small elevator... ", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "closing in. The men are trapped. Coach \n looks around, seeing a plan.\n\n COACH\n Grab onto ceiling and get out of \n water!\n\n ROADIE\n What?\n\n COACH\n Do it!!!\n\n Grabbing onto the piping along the ceiling, Roadie pulls \n himself from the water. Coach uses the machete to cut a power \n cord from above. He grabs the exposed, sparking end.\n\n COACH\n ", " Are you two all right? They left! We \n made it! I think we made it!\n\n TUFFY\n They'll be back.\n\n HEROINE\n We're safe until dark, but we need \n to find other people.\n\n Heroine rises and moves to the cab of the truck. She finds a \n pack of cigs under the visor. Pops in the lighter.\n\n HEROINE\n You know where the IGA grocery", " BOZO\n Hang on!\n\n Para claws the ground.\n\n PARA\n Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!\n\n Bartender jerks the wheel of his car.\n\n BARTENDER\n Oh shit!\n\n Para sees Bartender's approaching truck.\n\n PARA\n NOOO!!!\n\n Para rolls right, just missing tires. Para yells for his \n brother.\n\n PARA\n COME ON!", "\n A trauma center. We have doctors \n waiting.\n (off Heroine's pause)\n You're in good hands now.\n\n The door shuts on Heroine's concerned face. The Man in Tan \n locks eyes with the Driver.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Do it quick and spread the mess.\n\n The Driver nods back. Sinister implication understood.\n\n The Man in Tan lights a cigarette as he watches the truck \n drive off. The truck's", "turns to Beer Guy.\n\n BARTENDER\n Was that the last keg?\n\n BEER GUY\n Yup, one keg of Beast for the \n basement, then the truck's dry.\n\n BARTENDER\n If you're stayin', move the truck, \n boss gets pissed about you using \n primo parking.\n\n Beer Guy downs his shot and hoists the lone keg into the \n waiting ke", "GODDAMN IT!\n\n Bozo's eyes bulge.\n\n BOZO\n Brother!!!\n\n BAM! Para is SMEARED by Adulterer's car.\n\n ADULTERER\n Shit!\n\n Bozo floors it.\n\n BOZO\n (overly endearing)\n I meant to tell you so much!\n\n The remaining cars maneuver to hit the open road.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONT", "me, I'm going.\n\n BARTENDER\n You're trusting that con? He'll ditch \n us and never look back.\n\n ROADIE\n Fuck you too.\n\n BARTENDER\n Get in line!\n\n HEROINE\n Hey! I'm not trusting him either, \n that's why I'm going with.\n\n Coach stands forward.\n\n COACH\n \"C" ], [ " BOZO\n Hang on!\n\n Para claws the ground.\n\n PARA\n Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!\n\n Bartender jerks the wheel of his car.\n\n BARTENDER\n Oh shit!\n\n Para sees Bartender's approaching truck.\n\n PARA\n NOOO!!!\n\n Para rolls right, just missing tires. Para yells for his \n brother.\n\n PARA\n COME ON!", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", "runs for his Trans-Am. Para falls to the ground, still \n alive. Bozo turns back and sees him.\n\n BOZO\n Oh Jesus!\n\n PARA\n HELLLPPP!\n\n Bozo grabs his brother and puts him on his back again, runs.\n\n BOZO\n I thought we lost you --\n\n Para is RIPPED into the air again.\n\n BOZO\n You FUCKER!\n\n T", "cutting him in half. Bozo makes it to his \n Trans-Am.\n\n BOZO\n DO IT!\n\n VAHVVVOOOMMMM! The car roars to life. He pushes in a tape.\n\n The \"MIAMI VICE\" theme song blares from the speakers.\n\n BOZO\n Get me FUCK BIRDS!\n\n Bozo peels out. Aunt Beast lands right in his path.\n\n BOZO\n No", " BOZO\n They're probably on to the next buffet \n by now. There's a retirement home up \n the road, they'd be easy pickings.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Adulterer)\n Careful.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm telling you, I don't see a thing --\n\n BOINK! Papa Beast's claw POKES into his eye. Adulterer JERKS \n away", "is silent. Bozo looks around, quickly moving towards \n Grandpa and Grandma.\n\n BOZO\n You!\n\n GRANDPA\n Wha?\n\n BOZO\n You gotta know somethin', you're \n old.\n\n GRANDPA\n I don't know a thing.\n\n BOZO\n Old people know stuff like this. \n Legends, tall tales, shit like that.\n", "GODDAMN IT!\n\n Bozo's eyes bulge.\n\n BOZO\n Brother!!!\n\n BAM! Para is SMEARED by Adulterer's car.\n\n ADULTERER\n Shit!\n\n Bozo floors it.\n\n BOZO\n (overly endearing)\n I meant to tell you so much!\n\n The remaining cars maneuver to hit the open road.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONT", "\n PARA\n Yeah, he's an ass, but he's my \n brother. Que sera-sera.\n\n ROADIE\n Your brother, huh?\n\n PARA\n Yep.\n\n ROADIE\n Same parents?\n\n PARA\n Look man, I read books. He reads \n bumper stickers.\n\n Roadie nods. Heroine jerks a bottle of booze from Beer Guy", " If I throw a stick, will you go away?\n\n BOZO\n That's just horse shit.\n\n HEROINE\n Relax, they don't know anything.\n\n BOZO\n Yeah... allegedly.\n\n Bozo saunters off.\n\n PARA\n (to Heroine)\n Hey, where was your farm?\n\n HEROINE\n (points to map)\n East. Why?\n\n ", "E \n from the open glove box and SAWS at his safety belt.\n\n Cousin Beast leans into the passenger side of the car and \n looks him right in the eye. Bozo raises the knife.\n\n BOZO\n Lord, if I die, bury me upside down \n so the world can KISS MY ASS!\n\n Cousin Beast leaps in.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The remaining TWO CARS race down", " BOZO\n YOU ARE SUCKING MY DICK!!!\n\n Bozo guns the engine, crashing out the other end of the bar.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bozo's car veers, flipping over a pile of rubble.\n\n BOZO\n Motherfucker!!!\n\n Bozo squirms in his flipped car, UPSIDE-DOWN.\n\n He hears a Beast approaching. He pulls out a BUTTERFLY KNIF", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", "INUOUS\n\n Grandpa and Grandma hold each other tight. Uncle Beast enters, \n moving to their table. It moves in for the kill.\n\n Grandpa kisses his wife gently.\n\n GRANDPA\n Close your eyes, hon.\n\n The Beast OPENS its massive jaws and... CRASH! Bozo's car \n DRIVES through the bar, SMEARING the Beast.\n\n INT. BOZO'S CAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n ", "other foot.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Heroine's picking fingers are bleeding from her effort.\n\n BOZO (O.S.)\n HELP ME PLEASE!!!\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man is pulled towards the Sister Beasts.\n\n BOSS MAN\n HELLLLLP!!!\n\n Roadie kicks open the door and FIRES at the Sisters. They \n dive back out of the room screeching.\n\n", " SECOND FLOOR\n\n BOZO\n HELLLLLLLLP!!!\n\n Right behind Bozo, the boards fly off the portal window.\n\n Papa Beast flies at Bozo. Bozo spins and aimlessly FIRES his \n shotgun, hitting Papa Beast directly in the groin.\n\n The door flies open. Bozo is YANKED to safety just as Papa \n STRIKES the closing door.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The patrons track the wild CRASHING and H", "calvary.\n\n The Man in Tan steps forward, guiding the group out.\n\n EXT. IGA (GROCERY STORE) -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n A bulky security truck pulls up. A DRIVER, holding a bloody \n rag to his nose, gets out and moves to the back door.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n What happened to you?\n\n The Driver nods to the back of the truck, opening the door.\n\n Bozo lurches out, handc", "\n TUFFY\n You have it.\n\n HEROINE\n Good. But still do me a favor.\n\n TUFFY\n Name it.\n\n HEROINE\n (with a wink)\n Don't tell anyone I have a soft side.\n\n TUFFY\n (tiny smile)\n Deal.\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n\n Bozo turns and points the gun around the room. He sees the ", "CRAWLS \n upward.\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n\n Bozo moves turtle slow.\n\n BOZO\n Lamaze. Lamaze. Lamaze.\n\n He moves to the Boss Man's private room. He puts his hand \n out to open it. Trembling, he touches the knob and...\n\n CREEEEEEEEAK! The door eases open. Bozo steps inside the \n room. He moves over to a lamp and pulls the chain. A bat \n ", "ZO \n AGE: 32 \n JOB: UNEMPLOYED \n OCCUPATION: TOWN JACKASS \n LIFE EXPECTANCY: DEAD BY DAWN\n\n The rest of the parking lot is scattered with cars and pickup \n trucks. Bozo lazily makes his way to the bar and pushes \n through the front entrance --\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bozo passes a man dressed in a cheap suit and standing well \n over", "IGH-PITCHED SHRIEKING \n sounds of Papa Beast. He finally breaks out of the upstairs. \n Beer Guy and Roadie carry Boss Man into the room as Coach, \n Bartender, Heroine and the shaken Bozo creep down the stairs. \n Bozo slowly takes a seat in his brother's lap.\n\n PARA\n I thought that was it for a second \n there.\n\n TRAMPY\n What happened?\n\n BOZ" ], [ "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", " HERO\n They're like goddamn blood hungry \n biker tattoos come to life. They're \n clocking us. Right now. And we have \n to lock this bar down!\n (moving around)\n That means doors, windows, drains, \n and basements. We have to do it fast!\n\n Hero looks out the lone front window.\n\n HERO\n (looks to Belle)\n You! Get on that phone.", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "the wall. Fire and smoke \n fills the place.\n\n Adulterer douses Momma Beast with booze as Beer Guy nails \n her with a lit Molotov cocktail.\n\n WHOOSH! Engulfed in flame, she bolts from the bar shrieking.\n\n BOZO\n One down, one to go!!!\n\n Papa enters and is instantly cornered. He swings wildly.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Bartender)\n Help", " HEROINE\n Move it! Move it! Move it!\n\n As Teen Beast starts to tear at the base of the rising keg \n elevator in the shaft, Heroine pounds and tears at the few \n planks above her in the keg elevator.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy hits the button.\n\n BEER GUY\n Come on!\n\n BOZO\n Ol' Crazy Horse has seen it.\n\n TUFFY\n", "ARTENDER\n I'll drop you and not even think \n about it!\n\n HERO\n Let me explain!\n\n BARTENDER\n You got one second to --\n\n Hero reveals a drool-dripping, white, GRANDPA BEAST HEAD \n from the gunny sack and holds it out and for all to see.\n\n HERO\n Take a good look and listen to me! \n There's at least a four of these", " BARTENDER\n Make it count.\n\n Heroine cringes, eyeing the lined up Molotov cocktails.\n\n HEROINE\n Let's prepare ourselves, they ought \n to be here with the truck any minute.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Bullshit.\n\n Boss Man sips a bottle, still hopped-up on morphine. He lazily \n loads his pistol from a pool of bullets on his belly.\n\n BO", "a shadow of something BEHIND THE CURTAIN.\n\n Roadie moves to open the curtain with his sawed-off barrel.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy.\n\n WHIP! The curtain slides. It's a dried animal hide on a hook. \n They all sigh. Roadie unblocks the tiny door.\n\n Heroine scans the room.\n\n ROADIE\n This place is creepy in the daytime, \n too. Ready?\n\n Coach's", "Heroine to the tunnel.\n\n SLURP! A pink tongue LASSOS the mouse.\n\n A red fluorescent glow radiates from the tunnel. They all \n drop in, one by one, entering the steamy, confined space.\n\n COACH\n Looks like a brothel for plants.\n\n ROADIE\n Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Tuffy stands by a far wall, looking through the planks for \n movement.", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "\n HEROINE\n Three of us go. Two to defend, one \n to drive. We back up to the bar and \n then tear ass out of here.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Sounds sketchy.\n\n HEROINE\n Let me make this clear; if we stay, \n we die.\n\n Boss Man reluctantly pulls out some keys that are on a string \n around his neck.\n\n ROADIE\n Give 'em to", "\n and tosses it out.\n\n HEROINE\n Alright, we need to stay alert and \n for everyone to take a role.\n (to Boss Man)\n You gotta have some guns or weapons \n around here.\n\n Boss Man, pale and morphine pumped, sits at a table with his \n foot raised.\n\n BOSS MAN\n I got my .38 here. That's six shots \n and two refills. Downstairs", "OMITS on the windshield.\n\n HERO\n Break!\n\n Heroine slams on the breaks. Grandpa Beast slides back, \n holding onto the grill.\n\n HERO\n Go! Go! Go!\n\n Grandpa Beast tears into the engine through the grill as \n sparks and smoke shoot out. Heroine jerks the steering wheel.\n\n HERO\n Look out!\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n HERO", "\n know is that these fuckers are fast, \n nasty, and hungry.\n\n The bar stares at him, slack-jawed.\n\n HERO\n And they can fly. Not to mention \n they got claws like Ginsu knifes and \n more teeth than a chainsaw.\n\n The Bartender lowers his shotgun slightly. Fast as a snake, \n Hero GRABS it. He notices the engraving, \"THE JUDGE.\"\n\n ", "Bartender.\n\n BEER GUY\n Oh god...\n\n He hands him a towel. Tuffy slowly walks towards the rest of \n the patrons. The blood on her face and chest tells them what \n happened. The horror hits home.\n\n Heroine eyes the destroyed phone.\n\n COACH\n (to Tuffy)\n Are you --\n\n Heroine puts a hand up to silence Coach.\n\n HEROINE\n Just let her be... please.\n ", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", "an arm free to knock \n away her fatal blow.\n\n Bartender wrenches Papa Beast's arm with all his might. With \n her hair stuck in Papa Beast's claw, Tuffy is pulled face to \n face with the beast. She squirms as he chomps at her, but \n with no front teeth, he can't do immediate damage.\n\n BARTENDER\n I can't hold him!!!\n\n HEROINE\n Do something!!!\n\n T", "hand shakes as he raises his weapon.\n\n ROADIE\n Scared?\n\n COACH\n No. You?\n\n ROADIE\n Of course not. I fight monsters all \n the time.\n (gripping the door)\n On three.\n\n Roadie, Heroine raise their weapons.\n\n COACH\n One... two... three!!!\n\n Roadie whips open the door. Nothing.\n\n BANG-G" ], [ "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", "Bartender.\n\n BEER GUY\n Oh god...\n\n He hands him a towel. Tuffy slowly walks towards the rest of \n the patrons. The blood on her face and chest tells them what \n happened. The horror hits home.\n\n Heroine eyes the destroyed phone.\n\n COACH\n (to Tuffy)\n Are you --\n\n Heroine puts a hand up to silence Coach.\n\n HEROINE\n Just let her be... please.\n ", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "hole in the floor.\n\n Heroine and Bartender move in. When Teen Beast sticks his \n head out of the hole again, they thrust both their shotguns \n into each ear.\n\n HEROINE\n Now!\n\n BLAM-BLAM! The two shots scatter head everywhere.\n\n The flames in the bar spread, catching the entire wall and \n roof on fire.\n\n EXT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n The second barrel comes to a stop a good distance from", "INE\n F-f-fuck you.\n\n BARTENDER\n What the hell happened?\n\n TUFFY\n You okay?\n\n HEROINE\n I think they made it.\n\n She turns to Adulterer, rigid.\n\n HEROINE\n Stop trying to get people killed. It \n is getting very old.\n\n Adulterer nods, ashamed. Heroine looks around the bar. She \n notices", "the wall. Fire and smoke \n fills the place.\n\n Adulterer douses Momma Beast with booze as Beer Guy nails \n her with a lit Molotov cocktail.\n\n WHOOSH! Engulfed in flame, she bolts from the bar shrieking.\n\n BOZO\n One down, one to go!!!\n\n Papa enters and is instantly cornered. He swings wildly.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Bartender)\n Help", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "uffy and Bartender jump into his PICKUP TRUCK.\n\n TUFFY\n (to Heroine)\n Get in!\n\n Heroine hops in the back.\n\n Beer Guy and Adulterer run to a car together. Beer Guy lags \n behind, continually looking over his shoulder.\n\n ADULTERER\n Run and quit looking back!\n\n As Beer Guy looks forward, Aunt Beast and Uncle Beast hit \n him HIGH-AND-LOW,", "me!\n\n Heroine and Bartender rip the DEER HEAD from the wall and \n charge Papa, pinning him against the wall with the antlers.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on!\n\n Bozo and Beer Guy dive into Papa's legs, holding them down.\n\n Tuffy picks up The Judge.\n\n WHAM! The shotgun butt knocks out Papa's front teeth. Tuffy \n raises the weapon again, staring down at the monster that \n killed her child, but Papa Beast gets", "back, dragging the rest of Hero outside.\n\n Heroine clutches the ring. Shrieks and flapping wings are \n heard outside. They dissipate. A moment of calm.\n\n Belle timidly holds the receiver of the busted pay phone.\n\n The other patrons emerge from under tables and other hiding \n spaces in various states of shock. Junior Beast has \n momentarily stopped moving. Bozo secures the lid with a nearby \n PADLOCK.\n\n BOZO\n What the", "keep me here. This is \n bullshit. Fuckin' bullshit. This is \n fucking BULLSHIT!\n\n HEROINE\n We can't risk letting them in.\n\n ADULTERER\n (trembling, pissed)\n Right.\n\n Adulterer takes his seat. He looks over at the half bald \n Trampy. She looks at him, hurt.\n\n At the bar, Bozo puts the TV back into place, he jiggles \n", " HEROINE\n Move it! Move it! Move it!\n\n As Teen Beast starts to tear at the base of the rising keg \n elevator in the shaft, Heroine pounds and tears at the few \n planks above her in the keg elevator.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy hits the button.\n\n BEER GUY\n Come on!\n\n BOZO\n Ol' Crazy Horse has seen it.\n\n TUFFY\n", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", "\n away. His eyes turn black as his body goes limp. Tuffy pulls \n out her arm from his throat.\n\n BARTENDER\n God...\n\n BOZO\n I need to get your number.\n\n Tuffy shakes her wet arm dry. As the group pulls away, Papa \n Beast is still pinned to the wall with the deer antlers dug \n into the wood.\n\n Heroine turns to Grandma and Grandpa, offering a hand.\n\n HERO", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", "mass \n confusion.\n\n BARTENDER\n The lot's too damn far, that's \n surefire suicide.\n\n The room is silent. Bartender motions to Boss Man, but he is \n promptly shushed by Boss Man. Heroine notices.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Boss Man)\n What?\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n\n HEROINE\n You know what.\n\n", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot" ], [ "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "gun, and rips \n open the keg door. Heroine swings out.\n\n P.O.V. - Teen Beast is right behind her with mouth open and \n ready to feed. Tuffy points her shotgun.\n\n BLAM! Teen lurches back, dropping back down the shaft.\n\n Tuffy slams the keg door shut. Heroine pants on the floor.\n\n Adulterer is down, winded.\n\n BOZO\n Welcome back.\n\n HERO", "hand shakes as he raises his weapon.\n\n ROADIE\n Scared?\n\n COACH\n No. You?\n\n ROADIE\n Of course not. I fight monsters all \n the time.\n (gripping the door)\n On three.\n\n Roadie, Heroine raise their weapons.\n\n COACH\n One... two... three!!!\n\n Roadie whips open the door. Nothing.\n\n BANG-G", "me!\n\n Heroine and Bartender rip the DEER HEAD from the wall and \n charge Papa, pinning him against the wall with the antlers.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on!\n\n Bozo and Beer Guy dive into Papa's legs, holding them down.\n\n Tuffy picks up The Judge.\n\n WHAM! The shotgun butt knocks out Papa's front teeth. Tuffy \n raises the weapon again, staring down at the monster that \n killed her child, but Papa Beast gets", "hole in the floor.\n\n Heroine and Bartender move in. When Teen Beast sticks his \n head out of the hole again, they thrust both their shotguns \n into each ear.\n\n HEROINE\n Now!\n\n BLAM-BLAM! The two shots scatter head everywhere.\n\n The flames in the bar spread, catching the entire wall and \n roof on fire.\n\n EXT. BAR -- MOMENTS LATER\n\n The second barrel comes to a stop a good distance from", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", " Shut up!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n The elevator SHAKES. Heroine POUNDS a hole through the \n elevator top. She tries to squeeze through the SMALL HOLE.\n\n Teen Beast BITES through the floor board of the keg elevator.\n\n CLANGGG! The elevator stops. Heroine lurches and grabs the \n greasy cables to stop her fall.\n\n HEROINE\n Goddamn it!\n\n MAIN BAR", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "he wasn't aiming at \n the officers...\n (getting closer)\n ...he was firing at something inside.\n\n College Boy is rapt.\n\n CHIEF\n When the dust cleared, all they found \n was the little girl's shoes.\n (beat)\n With the feet still in 'em.\n\n Something GRABS College Boy's ankles, causing him to jump.\n\n COLLEGE BOY\n Ahh!!!\n\n", "floor, but jumps up quickly. \n Teen Beast cautiously moves in for the kill.\n\n Heroine raises her weapon.\n\n HEROINE\n You fuck with my family. \n (aiming shotgun)\n I fuck right back!\n\n Click -- out of ammo!\n\n HEROINE\n Oh shit.\n\n Heroine THROWS the shotgun at him and pulls out the MACHETE.\n\n She rolls left and swings. Teen Beast loses", "MAN\n But its got teeth.\n\n BAM-BAM-BAM! Junior Beast bangs around in the ice cooler.\n\n BOZO\n I think it's hungry again.\n\n HEROINE\n We have to kill it.\n (to Boss Man)\n Can you help?\n\n Boss Man hobbles over to the cooler and aims his .38. Junior \n Beast goes wild, trying to get out.\n\n BOSS", "two fingers.\n\n She swings again but gets whacked to the floor.\n\n Heroine rolls with the hit, grabs her shotgun, and dives \n into the KEG ELEVATOR.\n\n She slams closed the door as Teen Beast regains its composure \n and lunges. BAM! It CRASHES against the door.\n\n INT. TUNNEL -- NIGHT\n\n Roadie and Coach crawl to the platform by the exit.\n\n COACH\n They will write", "BOZO\n I didn't do it! It was fuckin' \n monsters, asshole!\n\n BOSS MAN\n Jesus Christ on the cross... someone \n make sense.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy. We're surrounded by something \n the likes none of you have ever seen \n before. Some kind of animals. Real \n fast, volatile, predators. One went \n through three of your patrons like \n nothing.\n\n", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "ast #1 responds with a swipe and chomp on the arm.\n\n Heroine bats her away. Sister Beast #1 moves to the others.\n\n HEROINE\n Look out!\n\n Roadie and Coach sprint until Sister Beast #2 BURSTS through \n the tunnel walls, stopping Roadie and Coach in their tracks.\n\n Roadie fires his weapon, but it sparks and fizzles.\n\n ROADIE\n The shells are wet!\n\n With the two Beasts", "other foot.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n Heroine's picking fingers are bleeding from her effort.\n\n BOZO (O.S.)\n HELP ME PLEASE!!!\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man is pulled towards the Sister Beasts.\n\n BOSS MAN\n HELLLLLP!!!\n\n Roadie kicks open the door and FIRES at the Sisters. They \n dive back out of the room screeching.\n\n", "Heroine is deep into the truck as Momma Beast enters. She \n advances, hissing.\n\n HEROINE\n Come and get me you blood-chugging \n CUNT!\n\n Momma howls and charges. Heroine slides out the side keg \n door, locking it behind her. Before Momma can see the trap, \n Beer Guy slam closed the rear doors.\n\n OUTSIDE TRUCK\n\n Beer Guy latches it. Trampy comes around the truck.", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "other half of Hero.\n\n HEROINE\n Goddamn you!\n\n Blood starts to SPRAY from outside as the rest of Hero is \n being devoured through the smallish hole.\n\n Heroine works a GOLD RING off of Hero's ring finger. The \n feeding MOMMA BEAST'S head breaks in through the hole. It \n grabs Heroine's left forearm.\n\n Bartender aims The Judge at the Beast...\n\n ROADIE\n You'" ], [ "do we have? Can \n we somehow contact the outside world?\n\n Trampy pensively stays on her fractured phone.\n\n TRAMPY\n I can't get anybody. I don't even \n know if I have a signal anymore.\n\n BEER GUY\n I have a CB in my truck, we could \n get some help out here.\n\n BARTENDER\n Who the hell would you call?\n\n BEER GU", "(beat)\n Is that the only phone?\n\n Bartender emerges from the back holding a mess of plastic \n and wires.\n\n BARTENDER\n The back phone is wrecked, too.\n\n Trampy's eyes light up and she digs through her purse.\n\n BELLE\n This is really happening. I can't \n believe this is really happening.\n\n Grandpa and Grandma have calmly re-taken their seats.\n\n ", "CELLULAR PHONE from her purse.\n\n TRAMPY\n Here!\n\n The group looks over. Adulterer GRABS it.\n\n TRAMPY\n Hey!\n\n ADULTERER\n Back off!\n\n Beer Guy walks from behind the bar.\n\n BEER GUY\n So, what now? Did those things leave?\n\n BOZO\n Why don't you go check it out?\n\n", "Bartender.\n\n BEER GUY\n Oh god...\n\n He hands him a towel. Tuffy slowly walks towards the rest of \n the patrons. The blood on her face and chest tells them what \n happened. The horror hits home.\n\n Heroine eyes the destroyed phone.\n\n COACH\n (to Tuffy)\n Are you --\n\n Heroine puts a hand up to silence Coach.\n\n HEROINE\n Just let her be... please.\n ", " BEER GUY\n Fuck no.\n\n ADULTERER\n (into cell phone)\n I have a signal! I have -- Diane? \n Diane listen to me... get the kids \n and get in the basement... do it \n right now...\n\n Trampy stares with grief in her eyes.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'll explain later. Not now! I'm at \n a bar... look... shut up!", "\n CB. It is like an intercom with a cable running outside. He \n drops the shotgun and fidgets with the CB knobs.\n\n BOZO\n Hello? Anyone there? We need help \n out here at the United Nations Tavern. \n Send guns, tanks, and all that shit. \n 10-4. S.O.S.\n\n All he gets is static. A faint GROWL is heard outside. OUTSIDE \n THE DOOR Bartender hears the", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "\n BARTENDER\n (motioning to Heroine)\n Her fella.\n\n HEROINE\n My husband...\n\n BOSS MAN\n Well, where's the sonuvabitch!?\n\n HEROINE\n He's dead.\n\n BOSS MAN\n What?\n (noticing destruction)\n What the hell happened down here?!\n\n Boss Man looks to Bozo.\n\n ", "her!\n\n BARTENDER\n Don't be stupid, drop the gun!\n\n INSIDE KEG ELEVATOR\n\n Heroine HACKS at one of the two greasy cables. Teen Beast is \n in the elevator car and RISING.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n TRAMPY\n YOU'RE KILLING HER!\n\n ADULTERER\n They'll get in! We'll all die!\n\n INS", " HERO\n They're like goddamn blood hungry \n biker tattoos come to life. They're \n clocking us. Right now. And we have \n to lock this bar down!\n (moving around)\n That means doors, windows, drains, \n and basements. We have to do it fast!\n\n Hero looks out the lone front window.\n\n HERO\n (looks to Belle)\n You! Get on that phone.", " SECOND FLOOR\n\n BOZO\n HELLLLLLLLP!!!\n\n Right behind Bozo, the boards fly off the portal window.\n\n Papa Beast flies at Bozo. Bozo spins and aimlessly FIRES his \n shotgun, hitting Papa Beast directly in the groin.\n\n The door flies open. Bozo is YANKED to safety just as Papa \n STRIKES the closing door.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The patrons track the wild CRASHING and H", "RAMPY\n Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!\n\n And with that, the shouting and pounding stops. The group \n nervously shuffles around the tables.\n\n There's silence.\n\n Dead silence.\n\n Then, far is the distance, beyond the walls, a sound is heard. \n It's screaming. And it's approaching. Rapidly. The survivors \n maneuver to peek out the front walls.\n\n BARTENDER\n What's that?\n", " with some wires in the back, bringing back the picture.\n\n BOZO\n Anything?\n\n PARA\n Yeah, you got it.\n\n The bar takes notice. Trampy, cell phone in hand, paws through \n a phone book as she watches the broadcast.\n\n BELLE\n See! This has to be isolated. That's \n a local broadcast.\n\n ON TV: The Newscaster reads the teleprompter.\n\n NEW", "the wall. Fire and smoke \n fills the place.\n\n Adulterer douses Momma Beast with booze as Beer Guy nails \n her with a lit Molotov cocktail.\n\n WHOOSH! Engulfed in flame, she bolts from the bar shrieking.\n\n BOZO\n One down, one to go!!!\n\n Papa enters and is instantly cornered. He swings wildly.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Bartender)\n Help", " BOSS MAN\n They're getting in! Somebody help!\n\n SECOND FLOOR\n\n Bozo kicks and punches the door.\n\n BOZO\n HELP!!! GODDAMN IT!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Heroine charges up the staircase. Roadie rips the sawed-off \n weapon from Beer Guy and runs for the kitchen.\n\n OUTSIDE THE DOOR\n\n BARTENDER\n The key broke off", "back, dragging the rest of Hero outside.\n\n Heroine clutches the ring. Shrieks and flapping wings are \n heard outside. They dissipate. A moment of calm.\n\n Belle timidly holds the receiver of the busted pay phone.\n\n The other patrons emerge from under tables and other hiding \n spaces in various states of shock. Junior Beast has \n momentarily stopped moving. Bozo secures the lid with a nearby \n PADLOCK.\n\n BOZO\n What the", "broke out.\n\n The group is silent.\n\n BOZO\n The first order of business is gettin' \n a big fuckin' tampon in that cave!\n\n PARA\n Nope, that wouldn't do it.\n\n FROM ADULTERER'S P.O.V. - He peeks out the hole and sees \n nothing but the dark night. Bartender eyes him.\n\n BARTENDER\n I wouldn't do that.\n\n ", "keep me here. This is \n bullshit. Fuckin' bullshit. This is \n fucking BULLSHIT!\n\n HEROINE\n We can't risk letting them in.\n\n ADULTERER\n (trembling, pissed)\n Right.\n\n Adulterer takes his seat. He looks over at the half bald \n Trampy. She looks at him, hurt.\n\n At the bar, Bozo puts the TV back into place, he jiggles \n", "Beer Guy scans the stocked bar wall.\n\n BEER GUY\n I might be able to do something with \n the bottles.\n\n GRANDPA\n You're gonna need a whole lot more \n than that to get outta here alive.\n\n The crowd turns to face Grandpa and his wife.\n\n BOZO\n Oh, now you have something to say?\n\n Grandpa holds on to Grandma's hand as he speaks.\n\n ", "ened silence. From beyond the \n walls, they can hear high-pitched SCREAMS.\n\n THUD! THUD! THUD! With every strike, a splattering of blood \n spits through the planks of wood.\n\n BARTENDER\n That wall's coming down!\n\n BOZO\n Commence Plan B!\n\n The entire group goes into motion.\n\n HEROINE\n What's Plan B?\n\n BOZO\n " ], [ "H SMALL HOLES\n\n Unlike humans, Papa Beast finishes and the birth cycle lasts \n all of thirty seconds. Momma Beast's belly balloons up and \n she squats. POP! A SLIMY OBJECT the size and shape of a vacuum \n cleaner drops from her.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Trampy VOMITS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n The slimy object SPLITS in half.", "me. They like the \n food that moves...\n\n CRASH! Teen Beast's arm ERUPTS through the Boss Man's belly.\n\n His pistol and bullets scatter across the floor.\n\n BOSS MAN\n OHHH!!!\n\n SNAPPP!!! His head and legs SLAP together as the arm pulls \n him through a small hole in the floor.\n\n The group jumps back. Blood rockets out. His body is pureed \n down the tiny hole.\n\n ", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "\n things out there!\n\n Grandpa Beast's head has large red eyeballs and a mouth full \n of jagged, ivory white teeth. It is like an albino jackal \n head with spiked hair.\n\n HERO\n I saw one of them tear up five men \n like they were corn on the cob!\n (off silence, shock)\n I don't know what they are. I don't \n know where they came from. All I do ", "ifices. Eyes, ears \n and mouth. From what I've seen, it's \n their only weakness.\n\n ROADIE\n (looking at the corpse)\n Looks like they're soft on the inside \n like any other animal. Trick is to \n get in there and do the damage.\n\n BELLE\n Maybe we don't have to fight them.\n\n BOZO\n Right, let's just call 'em", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "HERO\n Holy mother of...\n\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine has the group mesmerized.\n\n HEROINE\n We barricaded ourselves in the cellar. \n Then it was just listening. We heard \n those things destroy an entire heard \n of livestock. They just kept coming. \n Closer and closer, consuming anything \n in the way. Slashing, feeding and \n licking the bones clean. Just when \n ", "vers to get a better look.\n\n TRAMPY\n Oh... my... god.\n\n PARA\n What are they doing now?\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Yes, Momma Beast and Papa Beast are having MONSTER SEX.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n BOZO\n Dude, they're humpin'!\n\n P.O.V. - THROUG", "The two halves spring \n appendages and raise their heads. The TWIN SISTER BEASTS \n have been born.\n\n Papa moves forward and cleans off his new baby girls. The \n Beast Girls look at the bar and hiss in unison.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Heroine's eyes bulge.\n\n HEROINE\n Get back!\n\n SLAM-SLAM! The two hissing Beast Girls strike the bar front.\n\n Roadie", "BOZO\n I didn't do it! It was fuckin' \n monsters, asshole!\n\n BOSS MAN\n Jesus Christ on the cross... someone \n make sense.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy. We're surrounded by something \n the likes none of you have ever seen \n before. Some kind of animals. Real \n fast, volatile, predators. One went \n through three of your patrons like \n nothing.\n\n", "shine.\n\n COACH\n (rising, full of brawn)\n If they can't reproduce anymore -- \n we are one step closer! A big step! \n Now is the time to band together. We \n need to rise up against these monsters \n of the night! Those creatures are no \n match for the human spirit! We can \n do it! We just need to believe in \n each other! In all of us! We need to \n make", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", " and those flow lines were condemned, \n but never drained.\n\n COACH\n Cheese n' rice...\n\n TRAMPY\n I still don't get it.\n\n PARA\n What I am saying is... there's a \n distinct possibility that what we \n are up against is the result of steady \n stream of blood and tissue that has \n been leaking into the caves. And a \n day ago... something", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", "ast #1 responds with a swipe and chomp on the arm.\n\n Heroine bats her away. Sister Beast #1 moves to the others.\n\n HEROINE\n Look out!\n\n Roadie and Coach sprint until Sister Beast #2 BURSTS through \n the tunnel walls, stopping Roadie and Coach in their tracks.\n\n Roadie fires his weapon, but it sparks and fizzles.\n\n ROADIE\n The shells are wet!\n\n With the two Beasts", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "second, she \n BREAKS the chain, popping herself free.\n\n She spins, running for safety. A guttural HOWL behind her \n fills the cavern. Mean Green sprints toward the cave opening. \n She's gonna make it. Only a few more feet. And then... JERK!\n\n Something grabs her neck and YANKS her back into the darkness. \n The whiplash sends her bloody BULLHORN flying into the light. \n As it lands, it lets out one", "\n know is that these fuckers are fast, \n nasty, and hungry.\n\n The bar stares at him, slack-jawed.\n\n HERO\n And they can fly. Not to mention \n they got claws like Ginsu knifes and \n more teeth than a chainsaw.\n\n The Bartender lowers his shotgun slightly. Fast as a snake, \n Hero GRABS it. He notices the engraving, \"THE JUDGE.\"\n\n " ], [ "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Shadows of THREE SHRIEKING BEASTS close in on the window...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Bartender runs across the bar and SLAMS shut the thick wood \n shutters. The Beasts HIT, cracking the middle.\n\n Roadie power lifts the table with Heroine and braces it \n against the window for reinforcement, but a FURRY ARM busts \n through and grabs the", "BOZO\n I didn't do it! It was fuckin' \n monsters, asshole!\n\n BOSS MAN\n Jesus Christ on the cross... someone \n make sense.\n\n HEROINE\n Easy. We're surrounded by something \n the likes none of you have ever seen \n before. Some kind of animals. Real \n fast, volatile, predators. One went \n through three of your patrons like \n nothing.\n\n", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", " Coach's pants and boxers. He screams and lunges forward. He \n is BOTTOMLESS.\n\n HEROINE\n Everyone stay in the middle of the \n room! Off the walls! NOW!\n\n Everyone obeys her command to get in the middle of the room.\n\n Belle hands Coach a little menu to cover himself with.\n\n HEROINE\n Now, does everyone agree that they \n are still out there?\n\n The group nods.\n", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "Dried \n out ANIMAL CARCASSES hang from the ceiling on hooks. A WINDOW \n is open. Roadie slams it shut, eyeing the room, staring into \n the dark corners.\n\n ROADIE\n Stay on your toes everybody.\n\n Tuffy tightly grips her weapon, ready to fire. Heroine kneels \n next to a hatch door that emits a red glow.\n\n HEROINE\n What's this?\n\n Roadie jams", " BOSS MAN\n So, your dead hubby shot me twice, \n three of my customers have been eaten, \n and there are angry creatures outside?\n\n HEROINE\n He only shot you once.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Huh?\n\n HEROINE\n (re: Bartender)\n He shot you the other time.\n\n BARTENDER\n It was an accident. Sorry.\n\n Boss Man squ", "The men instinctively raise their high-powered rifles, letting \n the flashlights on the ends lead the way. They follow the \n trail of blood to a back FREEZER LOCKER.\n\n It's scratched, bashed and thrashed.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Open it.\n\n Company Man #2 steps forward and uses a metal-cutting chainsaw \n to cut through the hinges. The door falls with a THUD.\n\n As the dust clears, Tuffy,", "\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine stands near Grandpa Beast's head.\n\n HEROINE\n It must have smelled the blood or \n something. We buried the body and \n got back on the main road when...\n\n INT. CAMARO -- NIGHT\n\n BOOM! Grandpa Beast LANDS on the front hood of the Camaro.\n\n Heroine and Hero SCREAM and rev the engine, swerving madly \n as Grandpa Beast V", "holding his blood squirting eye socket.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n P.O.V. - The eye sees its owner stumble back and fall to \n the floor holding his face.\n\n INSIDE\n\n Coach and Trampy move to help Adulterer.\n\n FROM OUTSIDE\n\n The eyeball fires into Papa's drooling mega-mouth. SLURP!\n\n INSIDE\n\n BASH! A Beast arm BURSTS through the side wall and SNAGS \n", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", " BOZO\n They're probably on to the next buffet \n by now. There's a retirement home up \n the road, they'd be easy pickings.\n\n HEROINE\n (to Adulterer)\n Careful.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm telling you, I don't see a thing --\n\n BOINK! Papa Beast's claw POKES into his eye. Adulterer JERKS \n away", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the", "group tries to focus, but \n it's too dark outside. With the moon as the only light, Father \n Beast can barely be made out cradling his dead child.\n\n Silhouettes of the other family members slowly approach \n Junior. Papa Beast is gentle and it's almost endearing.\n\n BEER GUY\n It's working. I think it's working.\n\n COACH\n You see? What I tell you?\n\n The whole group starts to ease. Then...", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER" ], [ ". Momma Beast rises, hoisting \n Adulterer's blood dripping body from the ground.\n\n ADULTERER\n (gurgling blood)\n Run!!!\n\n Heroine scoops up her child, moving away from Momma Beast.\n\n Tuffy grabs them both, leading them back towards the store \n front. As Adulterer's blood flows, Momma Beast drags him \n towards her main prey. \n\n A blanket of darkness leads Momma Be", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "Papa Beast HOLLERS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Papa Beast lets out a HORRID WAIL. The group jumps back, \n covering their ears. Then, something really odd happens. \n Momma tosses Junior in the air, opens her wide jaws and \n SWALLOWS HIM WHOLE.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Adulterer's eyes widen.\n\n ADULTER", "vers to get a better look.\n\n TRAMPY\n Oh... my... god.\n\n PARA\n What are they doing now?\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n Yes, Momma Beast and Papa Beast are having MONSTER SEX.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n BOZO\n Dude, they're humpin'!\n\n P.O.V. - THROUG", "group tries to focus, but \n it's too dark outside. With the moon as the only light, Father \n Beast can barely be made out cradling his dead child.\n\n Silhouettes of the other family members slowly approach \n Junior. Papa Beast is gentle and it's almost endearing.\n\n BEER GUY\n It's working. I think it's working.\n\n COACH\n You see? What I tell you?\n\n The whole group starts to ease. Then...", "uffy reaches back and shoves her fist into Papa Beast's \n mouth, jamming it down his throat. He instantly gags, sucking \n for air.\n\n Papa Beast struggles to get free, but the others hold tight.\n\n Papa Beast's body begins to quiver from a lack of oxygen.\n\n His eyes widen, face to face with Tuffy.\n\n TUFFY\n CHOKE ON IT!!!\n\n With one last lunge, Papa Beast shakes, his life drifting ", "\n INT. BAR -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine stands near Grandpa Beast's head.\n\n HEROINE\n It must have smelled the blood or \n something. We buried the body and \n got back on the main road when...\n\n INT. CAMARO -- NIGHT\n\n BOOM! Grandpa Beast LANDS on the front hood of the Camaro.\n\n Heroine and Hero SCREAM and rev the engine, swerving madly \n as Grandpa Beast V", "\n away. His eyes turn black as his body goes limp. Tuffy pulls \n out her arm from his throat.\n\n BARTENDER\n God...\n\n BOZO\n I need to get your number.\n\n Tuffy shakes her wet arm dry. As the group pulls away, Papa \n Beast is still pinned to the wall with the deer antlers dug \n into the wood.\n\n Heroine turns to Grandma and Grandpa, offering a hand.\n\n HERO", "ine. Momma Beast's claw snags \n Heroine's locket, jerking Heroine right up to the creature's \n face. The locket catches Momma's attention for split second.\n\n Her remaining eye goes from the picture of Charlie to Heroine.\n\n Momma's mouth opens wide. Heroine screams!\n\n And then, a beam of the RISING SUN catches the gold locket \n and burns into Momma's eye. In one quick motion, she's gone, ", "H SMALL HOLES\n\n Unlike humans, Papa Beast finishes and the birth cycle lasts \n all of thirty seconds. Momma Beast's belly balloons up and \n she squats. POP! A SLIMY OBJECT the size and shape of a vacuum \n cleaner drops from her.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Trampy VOMITS.\n\n P.O.V. - THROUGH SMALL HOLES\n\n The slimy object SPLITS in half.", " awkwardly. She cries and blood stains her dress.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie!\n\n As Heroine nears, Adulterer GRABS her arm.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop! There's something wrong!\n\n HEROINE\n Honey!?\n\n The group eyes Charlie, noticing Heroine's locket around her \n ankle, leading to a slightly ajar manhole cover. Suddenly, \n the sunlight starts to FADE. They", "and crash. ELECTROCUTION. Sparks and smoke \n rises from their cooked bodies.\n\n Roadie and Coach look to each other, victorious. They begin \n shimmying along the piping to the end of the tunnel.\n\n INT. TUNNEL/BASEMENT -- NIGHT\n\n Heroine looks back at the two men. She turns and reenters \n the basement.\n\n GAH! Teen Beast drops in front of her, whacking her to the \n floor. Heroine slides across the", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "'s remains at Bartender.\n\n Papa Beast retracts out the portal window. Heroine SLAMS the \n wood shutters closed.\n\n Tuffy drops Cody's arms. Bug-eyed. She moves, zombie-like, \n to the staircase. Bartender follows, covered in Papa Beast's \n bile. Heroine locks the staircase door shut.\n\n HEROINE\n Damn it.\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n Beer Guy stares at the bile covered", "me!\n\n Heroine and Bartender rip the DEER HEAD from the wall and \n charge Papa, pinning him against the wall with the antlers.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on!\n\n Bozo and Beer Guy dive into Papa's legs, holding them down.\n\n Tuffy picks up The Judge.\n\n WHAM! The shotgun butt knocks out Papa's front teeth. Tuffy \n raises the weapon again, staring down at the monster that \n killed her child, but Papa Beast gets", "The two halves spring \n appendages and raise their heads. The TWIN SISTER BEASTS \n have been born.\n\n Papa moves forward and cleans off his new baby girls. The \n Beast Girls look at the bar and hiss in unison.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Heroine's eyes bulge.\n\n HEROINE\n Get back!\n\n SLAM-SLAM! The two hissing Beast Girls strike the bar front.\n\n Roadie", "\n Bozo bangs on the door and looks over his shoulder at the \n Momma and Papa Beast chomping at the wall.\n\n BOZO\n GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!\n\n MAIN BAR\n\n The group is mesmerized.\n\n PARA\n Oh please, no.\n\n SMALL ROOM OFF KITCHEN\n\n Boss Man uses the cot to block the Sister Beasts from \n entering. They hiss and shred the cot fabric.\n\n ", ".\n\n She creeps out alone.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you... come on...\n\n Nothing. Just smoke. And silence.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Come on!\n\n From the smoke, a smoldering Momma Beast charges like a bull.\n\n At the truck, Heroine opens the back doors and dives in, \n leaving the doors open. Momma Beast gives chase, entering \n the back.\n\n INSIDE TRUCK\n\n " ], [ "\n taking the locket with her.\n\n Heroine lets out her breath, reaching around her neck for \n what is no longer there. The truck SKIDS to a halt. Tuffy \n jumps out.\n\n TUFFY\n Are you okay?!\n\n HEROINE\n I don't know, I think --\n\n ADULTERER (O.S.)\n Hey!\n\n They both jump as Adulterer approaches.\n\n ADULTERER\n", ".\n\n She creeps out alone.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you... come on...\n\n Nothing. Just smoke. And silence.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Come on!\n\n From the smoke, a smoldering Momma Beast charges like a bull.\n\n At the truck, Heroine opens the back doors and dives in, \n leaving the doors open. Momma Beast gives chase, entering \n the back.\n\n INSIDE TRUCK\n\n ", "The beer truck screeches to a halt. Trampy's at the wheel, \n waving the group over. With the bar burning, a thick layer \n of SMOKE blankets the entire area.\n\n The people amass at the opening, but Heroine stops them from \n advancing. The group stares the dark night. Silent.\n\n HEROINE\n She's still out here.\n\n Heroine eyes the truck, seeing something she likes.\n\n HEROINE\n Stay put", "Heroine is deep into the truck as Momma Beast enters. She \n advances, hissing.\n\n HEROINE\n Come and get me you blood-chugging \n CUNT!\n\n Momma howls and charges. Heroine slides out the side keg \n door, locking it behind her. Before Momma can see the trap, \n Beer Guy slam closed the rear doors.\n\n OUTSIDE TRUCK\n\n Beer Guy latches it. Trampy comes around the truck.", "Tuffy pushes out \n Bartender's corpse and JERKS the wheel.\n\n IN THE BACK\n\n Momma Beast falls back, knocking down Heroine. Momma Beast \n nearly falls out, but manages to grab the rear gate with one \n claw. Defenseless, Heroine backs away. Momma Beast holds on \n tightly, pulling herself onto the bed of the truck.\n\n Tuffy stares back through the glass, unable to do anything.\n\n Momma Beast lunges towards Hero", "BOSS MAN\n It spits out behind the parking lot.\n\n BOSS MAN\n My truck is near, but it ain't nearly \n big enough to haul the whole lot.\n\n HEROINE\n It's a shot. Is it gassed up?\n\n BOSS MAN\n Fully.\n\n HEROINE\n Four door?\n\n BOSS MAN\n Two.\n\n HEROINE\n ", " Heroine covers her daughter's ears as the survivors are helped \n into the truck. Tuffy sits, looking to Bozo.\n\n TUFFY\n How'd you survive?\n\n BOZO\n I found a new weak spot on 'em, but \n it damn ain't pretty getting to it.\n\n Heroine, last in the truck, turns to the men.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you taking us?\n\n THE MAN IN TAN", "fast...\n\n EXT. GAS STATION -- LATE DAY\n\n Heroine and Tubbs emerge from the gas station shop.\n\n HERO\n Move it!\n\n Heroine and Tubbs hear the growing cries of the Beasts.\n\n Their loot hits the pavement as they run.\n\n HERO\n Get in the car, baby.\n\n Hero drops the spilling gas nozzle. Tubbs slides into the \n back as Heroine jumps into the driver", "'t want to talk about that.\n\n BARTENDER\n So, your husband ditched you?\n\n HEROINE\n No. It was wild out there. No time \n to think. We just moved. He didn't \n leave me. He just ran.\n\n BARTENDER\n Well, justice is funny.\n\n Para wheels over to a COUNTY MAP on the side wall.\n\n ROADIE\n The three from the gas pump", "CK!\n\n A deafening pattern of sound erupts from within the truck.\n\n It's Momma Beast. Again and again.\n\n TUFFY\n What is that?\n\n HEROINE\n She's calling for help.\n\n Heroine drops the lighter onto the fuel. It races for the \n truck. When feet away, COUSIN BEAST lands, stomping out the \n fire with his foot.\n\n BOZO\n The fan has officially", "uffy and Bartender jump into his PICKUP TRUCK.\n\n TUFFY\n (to Heroine)\n Get in!\n\n Heroine hops in the back.\n\n Beer Guy and Adulterer run to a car together. Beer Guy lags \n behind, continually looking over his shoulder.\n\n ADULTERER\n Run and quit looking back!\n\n As Beer Guy looks forward, Aunt Beast and Uncle Beast hit \n him HIGH-AND-LOW,", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", "\n A trauma center. We have doctors \n waiting.\n (off Heroine's pause)\n You're in good hands now.\n\n The door shuts on Heroine's concerned face. The Man in Tan \n locks eyes with the Driver.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Do it quick and spread the mess.\n\n The Driver nods back. Sinister implication understood.\n\n The Man in Tan lights a cigarette as he watches the truck \n drive off. The truck's", "girl.\n\n ADULTERER\n I wish you luck.\n\n The car peels off. Adulterer watches the car tear down the \n road. He glances up at the RISING SUN.\n\n EXT. TOWN ROAD -- DAY\n\n A sign reading \"RED MOUNTAIN\" swings lazily in the breeze.\n\n Tuffy and Heroine coast down a town road. There are random \n POOLS OF RED BLOOD in the dirt. No one in sight.\n", "been buried \n in the shit.\n\n Instantly, another beast, AUNT BEAST, lands on the top of \n the truck. These Beasts are like the others, but stripped. \n The group gasps. Trampy backs away.\n\n TRAMPY\n We have to run --\n\n BURST! Trampy's rib cage is ripped from her body. The culprit, \n UNCLE BEAST, stands behind her. Her organs drop like a box \n of vegetables. Cous", "\n HEROINE\n Three of us go. Two to defend, one \n to drive. We back up to the bar and \n then tear ass out of here.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Sounds sketchy.\n\n HEROINE\n Let me make this clear; if we stay, \n we die.\n\n Boss Man reluctantly pulls out some keys that are on a string \n around his neck.\n\n ROADIE\n Give 'em to", " Are you two all right? They left! We \n made it! I think we made it!\n\n TUFFY\n They'll be back.\n\n HEROINE\n We're safe until dark, but we need \n to find other people.\n\n Heroine rises and moves to the cab of the truck. She finds a \n pack of cigs under the visor. Pops in the lighter.\n\n HEROINE\n You know where the IGA grocery", "have...\n\n TUFFY\n Don't worry about that. Just go.\n\n Moment of silence as Adulterer and Tuffy look down the \n desolate road.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm sorry about your son. I really \n am.\n\n Tuffy nods, affectionately touching his hand.\n\n ADULTERER\n Where are you two going?\n\n HEROINE\n We're going to get my little", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "wedding band falls and bounces. As it rolls, \n Tuffy, Trampy and Adulterer watch.\n\n The ring stops, standing still on its side.\n\n Trampy seethes as she chooses which obscenity to deliver.\n\n Adulterer slides a wad of cash to Tuffy.\n\n ADULTERER\n Just bring the whole bottle.\n\n EXT. PRAIRIE LAND -- NIGHT\n\n P.O.V. - Sprinting and wheezing" ], [ " Heroine covers her daughter's ears as the survivors are helped \n into the truck. Tuffy sits, looking to Bozo.\n\n TUFFY\n How'd you survive?\n\n BOZO\n I found a new weak spot on 'em, but \n it damn ain't pretty getting to it.\n\n Heroine, last in the truck, turns to the men.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you taking us?\n\n THE MAN IN TAN", "uffy and Bartender jump into his PICKUP TRUCK.\n\n TUFFY\n (to Heroine)\n Get in!\n\n Heroine hops in the back.\n\n Beer Guy and Adulterer run to a car together. Beer Guy lags \n behind, continually looking over his shoulder.\n\n ADULTERER\n Run and quit looking back!\n\n As Beer Guy looks forward, Aunt Beast and Uncle Beast hit \n him HIGH-AND-LOW,", "through the back window, \n reaching for them. Heroine jerks the wheel.\n\n The car 180's and the Beast sails off of the car into \n darkness. The Camaro tears down a tangent dirt road.\n\n HERO\n We made it!\n\n Hero reaches back to give a \"five\" to Tubbs. Tubbs doesn't \n respond. Heroine is the first to see Tubbs' quivering, \n HEADLESS body in the back seat.\n", "ast, overtaking the \n survivors. At the store front, Heroine pulls Charlie close. \n\n HEROINE\n (a whisper)\n I love you...\n\n CUT TO BLACK:\n\n EXT. IGA (GROCERY STORE) -- AN HOUR LATER\n\n A string of ten WHITE VANS come to a halt in the dusty parking \n lot. THE MAN IN TAN (45, buzz cut, leathery skin, cool) steps ", "E \n from the open glove box and SAWS at his safety belt.\n\n Cousin Beast leans into the passenger side of the car and \n looks him right in the eye. Bozo raises the knife.\n\n BOZO\n Lord, if I die, bury me upside down \n so the world can KISS MY ASS!\n\n Cousin Beast leaps in.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The remaining TWO CARS race down", "Tuffy pushes out \n Bartender's corpse and JERKS the wheel.\n\n IN THE BACK\n\n Momma Beast falls back, knocking down Heroine. Momma Beast \n nearly falls out, but manages to grab the rear gate with one \n claw. Defenseless, Heroine backs away. Momma Beast holds on \n tightly, pulling herself onto the bed of the truck.\n\n Tuffy stares back through the glass, unable to do anything.\n\n Momma Beast lunges towards Hero", "you don't!\n\n BAM! He SMACKS Aunt Beast head on, sending the creature's \n disemboweled body sailing through the air.\n\n BOZO\n VENGEANCE!\n\n Para DROPS from the sky, still ALIVE and panting. Cars are \n moving everywhere.\n\n PARA\n Oh Jesussss...\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The burning JUKEBOX plays a slow love song. D", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "GODDAMN IT!\n\n Bozo's eyes bulge.\n\n BOZO\n Brother!!!\n\n BAM! Para is SMEARED by Adulterer's car.\n\n ADULTERER\n Shit!\n\n Bozo floors it.\n\n BOZO\n (overly endearing)\n I meant to tell you so much!\n\n The remaining cars maneuver to hit the open road.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONT", "fast...\n\n EXT. GAS STATION -- LATE DAY\n\n Heroine and Tubbs emerge from the gas station shop.\n\n HERO\n Move it!\n\n Heroine and Tubbs hear the growing cries of the Beasts.\n\n Their loot hits the pavement as they run.\n\n HERO\n Get in the car, baby.\n\n Hero drops the spilling gas nozzle. Tubbs slides into the \n back as Heroine jumps into the driver", "runs for his Trans-Am. Para falls to the ground, still \n alive. Bozo turns back and sees him.\n\n BOZO\n Oh Jesus!\n\n PARA\n HELLLPPP!\n\n Bozo grabs his brother and puts him on his back again, runs.\n\n BOZO\n I thought we lost you --\n\n Para is RIPPED into the air again.\n\n BOZO\n You FUCKER!\n\n T", "\n A trauma center. We have doctors \n waiting.\n (off Heroine's pause)\n You're in good hands now.\n\n The door shuts on Heroine's concerned face. The Man in Tan \n locks eyes with the Driver.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Do it quick and spread the mess.\n\n The Driver nods back. Sinister implication understood.\n\n The Man in Tan lights a cigarette as he watches the truck \n drive off. The truck's", "side and carries the \n limp carcass towards a covered hole in the wall.\n\n COACH\n Let's get that board down.\n\n Roadie pries off a board to reveal a pumpkin sized hole. \n\n HEROINE\n What are you doing?\n\n Coach shoves Junior's mangled body through to the outside.\n\n COACH\n Showing superiority. The scent of \n their dead may drive them away.\n\n The whole bar moves to", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", "turns to Beer Guy.\n\n BARTENDER\n Was that the last keg?\n\n BEER GUY\n Yup, one keg of Beast for the \n basement, then the truck's dry.\n\n BARTENDER\n If you're stayin', move the truck, \n boss gets pissed about you using \n primo parking.\n\n Beer Guy downs his shot and hoists the lone keg into the \n waiting ke", "holds her at bay.\n\n ADULTERER\n It's a trap!\n\n At a standstill, the group looks around for options. In the \n distance, the darkness of the eclipse rolls towards them.\n\n Adulterer reacts, grabbing Tuffy's machete and lunging for \n Charlie. The strike cuts the chain at her ankle. The manhole \n cover POPS off and a Beast claw sinks into Adulterer.\n\n The darkness covers the manhole", "the road.\n\n INT. BARTENDER'S CAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n With the peddle to the floor, Bartender drives.\n\n BARTENDER\n I think we're in the clear --\n\n BAM! Momma Beast lands on the roof. She reaches inside and \n yanks out Bartender's throat. The car veers.\n\n Tuffy rights it, leaning over and stomping on the gas. Momma \n yanks at the door, pulling it open.", ".\n\n She creeps out alone.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you... come on...\n\n Nothing. Just smoke. And silence.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Come on!\n\n From the smoke, a smoldering Momma Beast charges like a bull.\n\n At the truck, Heroine opens the back doors and dives in, \n leaving the doors open. Momma Beast gives chase, entering \n the back.\n\n INSIDE TRUCK\n\n " ], [ " Heroine covers her daughter's ears as the survivors are helped \n into the truck. Tuffy sits, looking to Bozo.\n\n TUFFY\n How'd you survive?\n\n BOZO\n I found a new weak spot on 'em, but \n it damn ain't pretty getting to it.\n\n Heroine, last in the truck, turns to the men.\n\n HEROINE\n Where are you taking us?\n\n THE MAN IN TAN", "against his car.\n\n HEROINE\n Where is everyone?\n\n ADULTERER\n I don't know, I just got here. Did \n you find your girl?\n\n HEROINE\n She's supposed to already be here.\n\n TUFFY\n Your family?\n\n Adulterer shakes his head, acknowledging their death.\n\n TUFFY\n I'm sorry.\n\n Adulterer", "uffy and Bartender jump into his PICKUP TRUCK.\n\n TUFFY\n (to Heroine)\n Get in!\n\n Heroine hops in the back.\n\n Beer Guy and Adulterer run to a car together. Beer Guy lags \n behind, continually looking over his shoulder.\n\n ADULTERER\n Run and quit looking back!\n\n As Beer Guy looks forward, Aunt Beast and Uncle Beast hit \n him HIGH-AND-LOW,", "have...\n\n TUFFY\n Don't worry about that. Just go.\n\n Moment of silence as Adulterer and Tuffy look down the \n desolate road.\n\n ADULTERER\n I'm sorry about your son. I really \n am.\n\n Tuffy nods, affectionately touching his hand.\n\n ADULTERER\n Where are you two going?\n\n HEROINE\n We're going to get my little", "GODDAMN IT!\n\n Bozo's eyes bulge.\n\n BOZO\n Brother!!!\n\n BAM! Para is SMEARED by Adulterer's car.\n\n ADULTERER\n Shit!\n\n Bozo floors it.\n\n BOZO\n (overly endearing)\n I meant to tell you so much!\n\n The remaining cars maneuver to hit the open road.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONT", "\n Tuffy sees what is coming.\n\n TUFFY\n They didn't make it.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Being held by Papa and Momma Beast, Roadie and Coach are \n both rushed towards the wall like human battering rams.\n\n ROADIE\n RUN!!!\n\n THUD! The first strike causes the men to HOWL.\n\n INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The survivors shake in sick", "\n A trauma center. We have doctors \n waiting.\n (off Heroine's pause)\n You're in good hands now.\n\n The door shuts on Heroine's concerned face. The Man in Tan \n locks eyes with the Driver.\n\n THE MAN IN TAN\n Do it quick and spread the mess.\n\n The Driver nods back. Sinister implication understood.\n\n The Man in Tan lights a cigarette as he watches the truck \n drive off. The truck's", "\n\n TRAMPY\n You got her? You got her!\n\n HEROINE\n Not for long, we gotta burn it.\n\n Heroine looks to the others at the breach.\n\n HEROINE\n Come on! Let's blow this thing!\n\n The others move into action. Beer Guy takes off his shirt \n and shoves it into the fuel tank. Adulterer and Bozo, with \n Para riding piggyback, help. They use the Molot", "through the back window, \n reaching for them. Heroine jerks the wheel.\n\n The car 180's and the Beast sails off of the car into \n darkness. The Camaro tears down a tangent dirt road.\n\n HERO\n We made it!\n\n Hero reaches back to give a \"five\" to Tubbs. Tubbs doesn't \n respond. Heroine is the first to see Tubbs' quivering, \n HEADLESS body in the back seat.\n", "me, I'm going.\n\n BARTENDER\n You're trusting that con? He'll ditch \n us and never look back.\n\n ROADIE\n Fuck you too.\n\n BARTENDER\n Get in line!\n\n HEROINE\n Hey! I'm not trusting him either, \n that's why I'm going with.\n\n Coach stands forward.\n\n COACH\n \"C", "ancing and \n holding each other, Grandpa smooches Grandma on the forehead.\n\n GRANDPA\n We had a good run.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n Para crawls along the ground, being ignored by the Beasts.\n\n PARA\n HELP ME! HELP ME SOMEBODY!\n\n Bozo turns on his windshield wipers to clear off the blood \n and guts. He spots Para.\n\n ", "ast, overtaking the \n survivors. At the store front, Heroine pulls Charlie close. \n\n HEROINE\n (a whisper)\n I love you...\n\n CUT TO BLACK:\n\n EXT. IGA (GROCERY STORE) -- AN HOUR LATER\n\n A string of ten WHITE VANS come to a halt in the dusty parking \n lot. THE MAN IN TAN (45, buzz cut, leathery skin, cool) steps ", "E \n from the open glove box and SAWS at his safety belt.\n\n Cousin Beast leans into the passenger side of the car and \n looks him right in the eye. Bozo raises the knife.\n\n BOZO\n Lord, if I die, bury me upside down \n so the world can KISS MY ASS!\n\n Cousin Beast leaps in.\n\n EXT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS\n\n The remaining TWO CARS race down", "\n HEROINE\n Three of us go. Two to defend, one \n to drive. We back up to the bar and \n then tear ass out of here.\n\n BOSS MAN\n Sounds sketchy.\n\n HEROINE\n Let me make this clear; if we stay, \n we die.\n\n Boss Man reluctantly pulls out some keys that are on a string \n around his neck.\n\n ROADIE\n Give 'em to", " awkwardly. She cries and blood stains her dress.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie!\n\n As Heroine nears, Adulterer GRABS her arm.\n\n ADULTERER\n Stop! There's something wrong!\n\n HEROINE\n Honey!?\n\n The group eyes Charlie, noticing Heroine's locket around her \n ankle, leading to a slightly ajar manhole cover. Suddenly, \n the sunlight starts to FADE. They", "fast...\n\n EXT. GAS STATION -- LATE DAY\n\n Heroine and Tubbs emerge from the gas station shop.\n\n HERO\n Move it!\n\n Heroine and Tubbs hear the growing cries of the Beasts.\n\n Their loot hits the pavement as they run.\n\n HERO\n Get in the car, baby.\n\n Hero drops the spilling gas nozzle. Tubbs slides into the \n back as Heroine jumps into the driver", " Are you two all right? They left! We \n made it! I think we made it!\n\n TUFFY\n They'll be back.\n\n HEROINE\n We're safe until dark, but we need \n to find other people.\n\n Heroine rises and moves to the cab of the truck. She finds a \n pack of cigs under the visor. Pops in the lighter.\n\n HEROINE\n You know where the IGA grocery", "a stand! Right here! Right now!\n\n Long silence. Bozo stares.\n\n BOZO\n Dude, are you gay?\n\n Coach sits down, humbled.\n\n HEROINE\n We know what not to do. We must stay \n focused and together. The beasts \n will find a breach. We gotta find a \n way out before they find a way in.\n\n TUFFY\n Let's run for the cars, cause", "Tuffy pushes out \n Bartender's corpse and JERKS the wheel.\n\n IN THE BACK\n\n Momma Beast falls back, knocking down Heroine. Momma Beast \n nearly falls out, but manages to grab the rear gate with one \n claw. Defenseless, Heroine backs away. Momma Beast holds on \n tightly, pulling herself onto the bed of the truck.\n\n Tuffy stares back through the glass, unable to do anything.\n\n Momma Beast lunges towards Hero", "sheepishly nods.\n\n HEROINE\n This place is a ghost town.\n\n The group makes their way to the store front, peeking beyond \n the glass doors.\n\n ADULTERER\n (pointing)\n Look!\n\n In the distance, in middle of a dusty parking lot, CHARLIE \n stands staring at them.\n\n HEROINE\n Charlie?\n\n Heroine runs to her and the others follow. Charlie fidgets \n" ] ]

[ "Who are the known survivors in the end?", "How does the first victim die?", "How do the creatures react when the young monster dies and is hung outside?", "How is the young monster dealt with?", "What is Tuffy's motivation for taking charge of the group?", "What effect does the slime vomit have on people?", "How do the patrons attempt to block the monsters entry?", "Who walks in a bar and warns everyone of impending danger?", "What does Hero show the bar patrons to make them take him seriously about the danger?", "Who is Hero's wife?", "Why is the only phone in the bar rendered useless?", "What is left behind when a boy gets pulled through a window and eaten by monsters?", "Who does a monster vomit a stream of slime on?", "What is Honey Pie doing when she takes off her clothes?", "What do the patrons use as bait while the Heroine and the Coach try to escape?", "Who successfully makes it to a truck?", "Who is Bozo's brother?", "Whta does Hero show the bar patrons to warn them of danger?", "What do the bar patrons do after Hero is killed?", "What is a monster attempting to assault when he is shot?", "Why can't the patrons use the phone in the bar to call for help?", "What effect does the slime that monsters spit have on humans?", "Whose body do the patrons use as bait for the monsters?", "What do the monster parents do with their child's body?", "Who speeds off by herself after getting to a truck?", "Who survives the last fight and drives away?", "Who are the surviving characters driving off to get?" ]

[ [ "Honey Pie, Tuffy/Heroine 2, Bozo, and Hot Wheels", "Bozo, Hot Wheels, and Tuffy " ], [ "Decapitation", "He is decapitated" ], [ "They eat him, procreate, and make 2 new monsters", "They eat the young monster. " ], [ "The monster is secured in a freezer after being shot at and falling inside", "It's trapped in a freezer, then killed, then hung outside." ], [ "Her grief over the loss of her son", "rage" ], [ "It causes decomposition", "decomposing effect" ], [ "Boarding up windows", "Boards up the windows" ], [ "Hero", "Hero" ], [ "The head of a repulsive creature.", "The head of a repulsive creature." ], [ "Heroine.", "Heroine." ], [ "It was hit by a shotgun blast.", "It's hit by the shotgun blast." ], [ "His sneaker.", "His sneaker." ], [ "Beer Guy.", "Beer Guy." ], [ "Washing off the blood.", "washing off blood" ], [ "Harley Mom's body.", "Harley Mom's body" ], [ "Honey Pie", "Honey Pie" ], [ "Hot Wheels.", "Bozo's brother is Hot Wheels" ], [ "The severed head of a creature", "The head of a creature" ], [ "Board up the windows", "They board up the windows. " ], [ "A deer head", "A deer head." ], [ "It has been shot", "It was broken by a stray bullet. " ], [ "It decomposes them.", "It decomposes them." ], [ "Harley Mom", "Harley Mom" ], [ "They eat it", "Eat the body, have sex, and reproduce two offspring." ], [ "Honey Pie", "Honey Pie" ], [ "Bozo, Hot Wheels, and Tuffy", "Bozo, hot wheels and TUffy" ], [ "Hero and Heroine's daughter.", "Heroine and Hero's daughter. " ] ]

[ [ ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", " I was fired by Wyant Wheeler. I\n plan to bring a wrongful\n termination suit against Charles\n Wheeler and his partners.\n\n JOE\n You want to sue Wyant Wheeler\n Hellerman Tetlow and Brown?\n\n ANDREW\n Correct. I'm seeking\n representation.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I misplaced an important\n complaint. That's their story.\n ", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "It's\n against the law to fire you for\n having AIDS, so they make you\n look like a fuck up. Which\n leads us to the mysterious, lost\n file.\n\n ANDREW\n They sabotaged me.\n\n JOE\n I knew you were going to say\n that. I don't buy it, and I\n don't see a case.\n\n ANDREW\n Look. I know I have a case. If\n ", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "\n support staff, associates, partners.\n Did <u>any</u> of them know Andy was sick?\n <u>How</u> did they know? Did he tell them?\n Did they notice something was wrong\n with his appearance? None of this\n information got to the managing\n partners. We know that. Make sure\n everyone else does too... And\n Beckett: I want to know everything\n about his personal life. Did he\n frequent those pathetic bars on\n ", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", "OLTEACHER, a POSTAL WORKER, an ASIAN COLLEGE STUDENT.\n\n JOE (OS) (CONT.)\n No one will break down on the stand\n with a tearful confession...\n\nREVERSE ON JOE, ADDRESSING THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n You are presented with a simple\n fact: Andrew Beckett was fired.\n You will hear two explanations for\n why he was fired. Ours. And\n ", ", Bob, I do.\n (to the group)\n Excuse me? Am I being fired?\n\n WHEELER\n Let's put it this way, Andy:\n your place in the future of this\n firm is no longer secure.\n\n JOE\n In a word, yes.\n\n WHEELER\n We don't think it's fair to keep\n you here, where your future is\n limited. But we wish you luck,\n Andy,", ", Walter Kenton, used to\n work for Benton, Myers, in D.C.\n There's a paralegal there, Maria\n Torres. She's had lesions on\n and off for three years. She\n says it was common knowledge\n around the office that her\n lesions were caused by AIDS.\n\n JOE\n They didn't fire her?\n\n ANDREW\n No. They didn't fire her.\n\nAndrew goes back", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "\n I love the law. I know the law.\n I excel at practicing it. It's\n the only thing I've ever wanted to do.\n\n JOE\n What do you love about it?\n\n ANDREW\n Well... many things. But I\n think the thing I love the most,\n is that every once in a while,\n not that often, but\n occasionally... you get to be\n part of justice being done.\n It's really", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n " ], [ "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n ", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", "Joe faces Andrew, also curious to know what Joe's up to.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, everyone in this\n courtroom is thinking about sexual\n preference, sexual orientation,\n whatever you want to call it.\n They're looking at me, and\n wondering about it...\n (looking at Andrew)\n They're looking at Mr. Beckett, and\n wondering about it. They're looking\n at Mr. Wheeler and wondering about\n it. They might even", "tremendously\n promising as a young attorney.\n That's why we went after him,\n that's why we hired him, and\n that's why we stuck with him,\n year after year... waiting for\n the promise to be fulfilled. But\n it never was.\n\n BELINDA\n You kept giving him another chance?\n\n WHEELER\n Of course we did. When you've\n groomed someone they way we groomed\n Andy, n", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", "and Andrew without a word. The room\nbecomes SILENT as the Judge takes a seat.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Attorney for the plaintiff?\n\n JOE\n Joseph Miller, Your Honor.\n Macready and Shilts Legal Services.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n I've seen your television commercials.\n \"If you or anyone you know has\n been injured through the fault of\n others... It should say, \"through\n the <", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", " Now that you mention it...\n\n JOE\n Tell Iris all about it.\n (leading her out)\n Take good care of Mrs. Finley,\n Iris.\n (to Andrew)\n Beckett, come in.\n\nJoe offers his hand, getting a look at Andrew's face.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Jesus Christ, what happened to you?\n\n ANDREW\n I have AIDS.\n\nJoe WITHDRAWS his hand,", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages" ], [ "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n ", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human", "tremendously\n promising as a young attorney.\n That's why we went after him,\n that's why we hired him, and\n that's why we stuck with him,\n year after year... waiting for\n the promise to be fulfilled. But\n it never was.\n\n BELINDA\n You kept giving him another chance?\n\n WHEELER\n Of course we did. When you've\n groomed someone they way we groomed\n Andy, n", "and Andrew without a word. The room\nbecomes SILENT as the Judge takes a seat.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Attorney for the plaintiff?\n\n JOE\n Joseph Miller, Your Honor.\n Macready and Shilts Legal Services.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n I've seen your television commercials.\n \"If you or anyone you know has\n been injured through the fault of\n others... It should say, \"through\n the <", "We have letters.\n\n JOE\n Why haven't you produced these\n letters?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Take it easy.\n (to Wheeler)\n What's the big deal, Chuck? The\n boy wants a letter, to show to\n his mother, for her to keep after\n he's gone. Why are you being hard-\n assed about this?\n\n WHEELER\n I wish I could exonerate you,", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n " ], [ ".\n\nAndrew undoes his tie.\n\nANGLE ON THE MARINE JUROR -- WATCHING.\n\nAndrew unbuttons his collar buttons, working his way down.\n\nANGLE ON SARAH BECKETT -- WATCHING.\n\nAndrew stands, pulling his shirttails out of his trousers.\n\nANGLE ON CHARLES WHEELER -- WATCHING.\n\nAndrew removes his shirt -- THERE ARE PURPLE BLOTCHES\nSPLAYED ACROSS HIS CHEST AND ABD", "VE.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n (a moment, then)\n I'll allow it. Would you mind\n removing your shirt, Mr.\n Beckett?\n\nANGLE ON MIGUEL -- TENSE.\n\n ANDREW\n Allright.\n\nThe COURTROOM TURNS SILENT.\n\nAndrew removes his suit jacket. He's weak, so the smallest\ngesture requires effort.\n\nANGLE ON BOB SEIDMAN -- WATCHING", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "Joe faces Andrew, also curious to know what Joe's up to.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, everyone in this\n courtroom is thinking about sexual\n preference, sexual orientation,\n whatever you want to call it.\n They're looking at me, and\n wondering about it...\n (looking at Andrew)\n They're looking at Mr. Beckett, and\n wondering about it. They're looking\n at Mr. Wheeler and wondering about\n it. They might even", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "GARNETT crosses his arms, waiting.\n\n--JOE glances at some notes.\n\n--MIGUEL and SARAH BECKETT look on anxiously.\n\n--WHEELER and the others observe in silence.\n\nCAMERA HOLDS ON BIBLE BEING CARRIED IN GLOVED HANDS, ACROSS\nTHE COURTROOM. OVER THIS SHOT IS A...\n\nTITLE: \"<u>Plaintiff's case. day fourteen.</u>\"\n\nThe BAILIFF", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", "theirs...\n\nJoe crosses the courtroom, coming to stand in front of...\n\nANDREW, whose appearance has changed: <u>thinner, paler than we've\never seen him, some blisters on his lips. But the most disturbing\nthing about his appearance is the way he moves, slowly, like a\nmuch older man.</u> He's taking notes (which he will do\nrelentlessly throughout the trial.) And he has a cane at his\nside, which he'll use throughout the trial.\n\n JOE", "\n\nAndrew OPENS HIS EYES... WE SWITCH TO HIS POV:\n\nThe Judge, the Jury -- everyone silent, looking concerned.\n\nANDREW'S POV of the courtroom floor.\n\nAndrew falls into his own POV SHOT. In slow motion.\n\nHe lies on the floor, looking up.\n\nANDREW'S POV -- Joe steps over him.\n\n ANDREW\n Could you call an ambulance,\n please?\n\n CUT TO:", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n " ], [ "ine.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Have you awarded any damages?\n\n MARINE\n Yes, we have, Your Honor.\n (referring to a list)\n For back pay and loss of benefits\n ... one hundred fortythree\n thousand dollars.\n\nJoe shakes his head, disappointed, writing down the amount.\n\nWheeler and his crew SMILE -- THIS IS <u>THEIR</u> VICTORY.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)", "\n For damages related to mental\n anguish and humiliation... we give\n no award.\n\nJoe is <u>extremely</u> disappointed.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)\n And punitive damages we award...\n Four million, eight hundred and\n eighty two thousand dollars.\n\nJoe throws his pen over his shoulder.\n\nCOURTROOM BURSTS INTO AN UPROAR.\n\nAndrew's supporters, Joe's colleagues from his office rush", "\n have earned over the next three\n years, including benefits and\n projected raises, and the\n extraordinary cost of medical\n care for someone with Acquired\n Immune Deficiency Syndrome...\n We would settle today for the\n very fair amount of one million\n five hundred thousand dollars.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Very good, Joe. Now, Belinda,\n I've got a figure over here, of\n one million, five. I...\n\n", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "! Yes!\n (chewing a string bean)\n Rentworth v. Pennsylvania...\n court of appeals affirms jury\n award of punitive damages for\n wrongful interference with\n prospective economic\n relations...\n\nA SHADOW falls across Andrew. He IGNORES IT.\n\nANGLE: TWO MEN IN SILHOUETTE. WALTER KENTON says:\n\n KENTON\n Look at this fucking guy. He's\n an animal", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "MRS. FINLEY\n Yeah. Do I have a case?\n\n JOE\n Of course you have a case! Now,\n I want you to go with my\n assistant, Iris, and fill out\n some forms. She'll tell you\n about our fee arrangement.\n (as they're leaving)\n Mrs. Finley? Any back pain\n since the accident? Dizziness?\n Nightmares?\n\n MRS. FINLEY\n ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "GARNETT\n That's impossible, Joe.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n If it please Your Honor, we're\n prepared to offer a cash\n settlement of twenty-five\n thousand dollars.\n\n JOE\n Your generosity overwhelms me,\n Belinda, considering my client\n was earning over a hundred thou\n when he was terminated almost six\n months ago.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Give me a break, Joe", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", ".\n\n CUT TO:\n\nBELINDA CONINE ADDRESSING THE JURY (INT./DAY) ...\n\n BELINDA\n Fact. Andrew Beckett performed\n at a consistently mediocre\n level. Fact. He made a grievous\n error on a multi-million dollar\n lawsuit... Fact. He claims he is\n the victim of lies and deceit.\n Fact. Andrew Beckett lied to his\n employers, going to great efforts", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", ", Andrew's siblings, Jill, Matt, Randy, and\nhis parents, Bud and Sarah... Rachel, Anthea and Miguel's\nsister Maria.\n\nThe Marine rises to his feet.\n\n MARINE\n We have, Your Honor...\n\nCharles Wheeler looks the Marine in the eye.\n\n MARINE (CONT.)\n We find for the plaintiff,\n Andrew Beckett.\n\nJoe smiles, just barely, remaining calm.\n\nCharles Wheeler whispers to Belinda Con", "EXECUTIVE FROM A\nlarge insurance company, MR. LAIRD (INT./DAY) ...\n\n JOE\n Andrew Beckett represented your\n company in a lawsuit in 1990, is\n that correct?\n\n LAIRD\n Wyant Wheeler represented us.\n\nAndrew glances toward the jury box: the MARINE JUROR writes in a\ntiny notebook.\n\n JOE\n But, Andrew Beckett was in charge of\n litigation for the suit.\n\n", ". Let's cut\n through these false attitudes.\n Give them a figure. How much do\n you want?\n\n ANDREW\n I <u>want</u> to go back to work, Your\n Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n You're here at my indulgence,\n young man. I'm waiting for a\n figure, Joe.\n\nAndrew and Joe confer with each other.\n\n JOE\n Based on what my client would" ], [ "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", ", Andrew's siblings, Jill, Matt, Randy, and\nhis parents, Bud and Sarah... Rachel, Anthea and Miguel's\nsister Maria.\n\nThe Marine rises to his feet.\n\n MARINE\n We have, Your Honor...\n\nCharles Wheeler looks the Marine in the eye.\n\n MARINE (CONT.)\n We find for the plaintiff,\n Andrew Beckett.\n\nJoe smiles, just barely, remaining calm.\n\nCharles Wheeler whispers to Belinda Con", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "know, in the handling\n of your lawsuit, Andrew Beckett was\n simply following orders.\n\n LAIRD\n That's a fair assessment of the\n situation.\n\nAndrew glances over his shoulder: at Robert Seidman, who\nmeets his gaze.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nSPECTATORS STREAM OUT OF CITY HALL INTO THE HUBBUB OF TWO\nDISTINCT GROUPS SHOUTING AT EACH OTHER (EXT/DAY): GAY RIGHT", "ine.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Have you awarded any damages?\n\n MARINE\n Yes, we have, Your Honor.\n (referring to a list)\n For back pay and loss of benefits\n ... one hundred fortythree\n thousand dollars.\n\nJoe shakes his head, disappointed, writing down the amount.\n\nWheeler and his crew SMILE -- THIS IS <u>THEIR</u> VICTORY.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)", "EXECUTIVE FROM A\nlarge insurance company, MR. LAIRD (INT./DAY) ...\n\n JOE\n Andrew Beckett represented your\n company in a lawsuit in 1990, is\n that correct?\n\n LAIRD\n Wyant Wheeler represented us.\n\nAndrew glances toward the jury box: the MARINE JUROR writes in a\ntiny notebook.\n\n JOE\n But, Andrew Beckett was in charge of\n litigation for the suit.\n\n", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "\n\nTITLE: \"<u>Jury deliberations.</u>\"\n\n WAITRESS JUROR\n They wanted to see if he'd rise\n to the challenge.\n\nAn American flag hangs on the wall.\n\n SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR\n They wanted to give him a final\n chance.\n\n POSTAL WORKER JUROR\n Makes sense.\n\n BUSINESSMAN JUROR\n I'd still love to know what", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "\n For damages related to mental\n anguish and humiliation... we give\n no award.\n\nJoe is <u>extremely</u> disappointed.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)\n And punitive damages we award...\n Four million, eight hundred and\n eighty two thousand dollars.\n\nJoe throws his pen over his shoulder.\n\nCOURTROOM BURSTS INTO AN UPROAR.\n\nAndrew's supporters, Joe's colleagues from his office rush", ". He's in a stage of recovery.</u>\n\nON THE OTHER LAWYERS:\n\nCharles Wheeler (seeming ironic) and Walter Kenton (he's\npissed) lead the battalion.\n\nBehind them, walk young lawyers BELINDA CONINE and JEROME\nGREEN. Belinda is white, Jerome is black.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nHUSHED VOICES (INT./DAY) ...\n\nA JUDGE'S CHAMBERS, with couches, soft", ".\n\n CUT TO:\n\nBELINDA CONINE ADDRESSING THE JURY (INT./DAY) ...\n\n BELINDA\n Fact. Andrew Beckett performed\n at a consistently mediocre\n level. Fact. He made a grievous\n error on a multi-million dollar\n lawsuit... Fact. He claims he is\n the victim of lies and deceit.\n Fact. Andrew Beckett lied to his\n employers, going to great efforts", "(CONT.)\n It's up to you, to sift through\n layer and layer of truth, and\n determine for yourselves the\n version that sounds the <u>most</u> true.\n\nCharles Wheeler, Walter Kenton, Bob Seidman, Kenneth Killcoyne\nsit BEHIND their lawyers, Belinda Conine and Jerome Green, and\nSEVERAL ASSISTANTS at the defense table.\n\nJUDGE GARNETT presides from his bench.\n\nAmong the spectators,", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI" ], [ "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n ", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "an aisle of books, keeping one eye\non Andrew, who concentrates on his work.\n\nJoe approaches, nonchalantly, as if he just <u>happens</u> to be\nsauntering by. Suddenly he \"notices\" Andrew.\n\n JOE\n Oh, Beckett. How's it goin'?\n\n ANDREW\n Fine.\n\nAndrew goes back to his work.\n\n JOE\n Who'd you get?\n\n ANDREW\n ", "tremendously\n promising as a young attorney.\n That's why we went after him,\n that's why we hired him, and\n that's why we stuck with him,\n year after year... waiting for\n the promise to be fulfilled. But\n it never was.\n\n BELINDA\n You kept giving him another chance?\n\n WHEELER\n Of course we did. When you've\n groomed someone they way we groomed\n Andy, n", "the first prize of AIDS goes to\n Andrew Beckett and his lover\n Miguel...\" Excuse me, I'm not\n your lover. I'm your Care Partner.\n FUCK!\n\n ANDREW\n I'm not ready to die.\n\n MIGUEL\n Do you think I'm ready for it?!\n I hate this shit. I'm not a\n fucking martyr! I hate every\n goddamn part of it!\n\nMiguel", "S WORKING ON HER COMPUTER, AT HOME, WHILE JOE PACES\naround her desk, really upset (One year-old Rayisha sits on\nthe desk playing with wooden salad spoons.) (INT./NIGHT) ...\n\n JOE\n But what was it?! What was this\n guy thinking... ?!\n\n LISA\n Don't know, Joe.\n\n JOE\n Is there some kind of expression\n I've picked up from Beckett?!\n Some", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", "kind of fairy attitude I've\n unconsciously adopted?! Am I\n walking different?! Some kind\n of vocal thing?! Have I picked\n up some kind of homo <u>vibe</u>?!\n\n LISA\n Have you changed your aftershave?\n\n JOE\n Very funny. I had a box of\n Pampers under my arm for\n Chrissake!\n\n CUT TO:\n\nLISA AND JOE'S DARK", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", ",\n buddy.\n\nRev. Jim pats Andrew's shoulder.\n\n REV. JIM\n God bless you, Andy.\n\nBud Beckett kisses Andrew on the cheek.\n\n BUD\n Goodnight, son.\n Get some rest, okay?\n\nSarah Beckett is strong, kissing Andrew on the forehead.\n\n SARAH\n Goodnight angel, my sweet boy...\n\nRandy Beckett loses control of his emotions as he bends to hug\nhis brother", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", "PARRTYY!\n\n JOE\n We're friends of Beckett's.\n\n ANDREW\n It's me, you dork.\n\n LISA\n I'm Lisa Miller.\n\n ANDREW\n Glad to finally meet you. Come on in.\n\n CONTINUOUS CUT TO:\n\nJOE AND LISA FOLLOW ANDREW INTO THE APARTMENT (<u>HE LIMPS, relying\non his", " Now that you mention it...\n\n JOE\n Tell Iris all about it.\n (leading her out)\n Take good care of Mrs. Finley,\n Iris.\n (to Andrew)\n Beckett, come in.\n\nJoe offers his hand, getting a look at Andrew's face.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Jesus Christ, what happened to you?\n\n ANDREW\n I have AIDS.\n\nJoe WITHDRAWS his hand,", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "(smiling at Niguel)\n Would you relax, please?\n\n MIGUEL\n I am relaxed.\n\nAndrew HOBBLES toward a pay phone, outside a VISITOR LOUNGE,\nwhere weary relatives are watching TV.\n\nAndrew drops a quarter into the phone.\n\n JOE MILLER'S VOICE\n \"If you or someone you know...\"\n\nANDREW'S POV ON TELEVISION: Joe Miller on the screen, with the\nwords \"Neglig" ], [ "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", " things about his appearance\n that made you suspect he had\n AIDS?\n\nTHE WITNESS: Paralegal Anthea Burton.\n\n ANTHEA\n He was losing weight. He looked\n kind of tired sometimes. But he\n was working so hard... Still, I\n felt something was wrong.\n (looking at Wheeler)\n And I can't believe <u>they're</u>\n saying they didn't notice\n anything.\n\n B", " lesions on your face and arms\n were caused by AIDS?\n\nThe witness: MARIA TORRES, Hispanic, 35, healthy-looking.\n\n MARIA\n Definitely. People were going\n around, whispering things. I\n figured I didn't have anything\n to lose, so I told all the\n partners.\n\n JOE\n How did Walter Kenton treat you,\n after you told him you had AIDS?\n\nCLOSE ON KENT", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "ion, which could\n have been a bruise, to the\n partners deducing you had AIDS\n and basing a decision to\n terminate you on that\n conclusion?\n\nThe CHINESE PROFESSOR moves away.\n\n ANDREW\n Good point.\n\nAndrew removes a legal pad with \"KENTON\" written in big\nletters across the top, and lots of notes underneath.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n The partner who spotted the\n lesion", " ANDREW\n It's possible I was infected with\n the HIV virus at that time, but I\n wasn't diagnosed until several years\n later.\n\n JOE\n You didn't look then, the way you\n look now?\n\nREVERSE -- ON ANDREW IN THE WITNESS STAND, BUT NOW HE LOOKS\nCOMPLETELY DIFFERENT (<u>The healthy. pre-AIDS Andrew.</u>)\n\n ANDREW\n No. I", "\n medical reasons, we work it out.\n\n JOE\n Thank you. No more questions.\n\nJerome Green rises.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n Miss Torres. How did you contract\n the AIDS virus?\n\n MARIA\n During a transfusion. I lost\n a lot of blood giving birth to my\n second child.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n In other words, in <u>your</u> case\n you", " Now that you mention it...\n\n JOE\n Tell Iris all about it.\n (leading her out)\n Take good care of Mrs. Finley,\n Iris.\n (to Andrew)\n Beckett, come in.\n\nJoe offers his hand, getting a look at Andrew's face.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Jesus Christ, what happened to you?\n\n ANDREW\n I have AIDS.\n\nJoe WITHDRAWS his hand,", "Miguel sits next to Sarah, and\nAndrew's sister Jill. AIDS ACTIVISTS in the background.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n There are certain points in our\n version, that I must prove to\n you... Point number one: Andrew\n Beckett was... is a brilliant\n lawyer. A great lawyer. Point\n number two. Andrew Beckett,\n afflicted with a debilitating\n disease, made the legal,\n understandable, personal choice\n to keep the", "to the conclusion you had\n AIDS and fired you.\n\n ANDREW\n Absolutely.\n\n BELINDA\n Do you have any lesions on your\n face at this time?\n\n ANDREW\n One. Here, in front of my ear.\n\nAn ASSISTANT hands Conine a shaving mirror. She holds it\nbefore Andrew.\n\n BELINDA\n Remembering you are under oath,\n answering truthfully, can you\n see the", ". Wheeler waits.\n\n JOE\n (very gentle)\n Explain to me, if you can, Mr.\n Wheeler, explain this to me like\n I'm a ten year-old. This trial is\n not about a disease, is that what\n you're saying? <u>Not</u> about your\n understandable, if unfounded, fear\n of catching AIDS through casual\n contact with someone who has it?\n You're saying, this trial", ", Walter Kenton, used to\n work for Benton, Myers, in D.C.\n There's a paralegal there, Maria\n Torres. She's had lesions on\n and off for three years. She\n says it was common knowledge\n around the office that her\n lesions were caused by AIDS.\n\n JOE\n They didn't fire her?\n\n ANDREW\n No. They didn't fire her.\n\nAndrew goes back", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", "(And\nit's the sick, thin Andrew with AIDS).</u>\n\n ANDREW\n Relieved. That I'd never told\n him I was gay. Very relieved.\n\nANGLE ON CHARLES WHEELER: shakes his head, a denial.\n\n JOE\n Are you a good lawyer?\n\n ANDREW\n I'm an excellent lawyer.\n\n JOE\n What makes you an excellent\n lawyer?\n\n ANDREW", "the first prize of AIDS goes to\n Andrew Beckett and his lover\n Miguel...\" Excuse me, I'm not\n your lover. I'm your Care Partner.\n FUCK!\n\n ANDREW\n I'm not ready to die.\n\n MIGUEL\n Do you think I'm ready for it?!\n I hate this shit. I'm not a\n fucking martyr! I hate every\n goddamn part of it!\n\nMiguel", "? Approximately what year did\n this event take place?\n\n ANDREW\n I guess it was 1984, 85.\n\n BELINDA\n Were you aware in 1984 or 1985\n that there was a fatal disease\n out there, called AIDS, and that\n you could contract it through\n sexual activity?\n\n ANDREW\n It's impossible to know exactly\n when or how I was infected with HIV", "this whole tragic mess behind\n us.\n\nThey arrive at a quiet, semi-private cul de sac.\n\n WHEELER\n Andrew brought AIDS into our\n offices, into our men's room.\n He brought AIDS to our annual\n goddamn family picnic.\n\n KENTON\n We ought to be suing him.\n\n SEIDMAN\n For Christ's sake, where's your\n compassion?\n\n KENTON\n Compass" ], [ "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "\n support staff, associates, partners.\n Did <u>any</u> of them know Andy was sick?\n <u>How</u> did they know? Did he tell them?\n Did they notice something was wrong\n with his appearance? None of this\n information got to the managing\n partners. We know that. Make sure\n everyone else does too... And\n Beckett: I want to know everything\n about his personal life. Did he\n frequent those pathetic bars on\n ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "tremendously\n promising as a young attorney.\n That's why we went after him,\n that's why we hired him, and\n that's why we stuck with him,\n year after year... waiting for\n the promise to be fulfilled. But\n it never was.\n\n BELINDA\n You kept giving him another chance?\n\n WHEELER\n Of course we did. When you've\n groomed someone they way we groomed\n Andy, n", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "VE.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n (a moment, then)\n I'll allow it. Would you mind\n removing your shirt, Mr.\n Beckett?\n\nANGLE ON MIGUEL -- TENSE.\n\n ANDREW\n Allright.\n\nThe COURTROOM TURNS SILENT.\n\nAndrew removes his suit jacket. He's weak, so the smallest\ngesture requires effort.\n\nANGLE ON BOB SEIDMAN -- WATCHING", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "this whole tragic mess behind\n us.\n\nThey arrive at a quiet, semi-private cul de sac.\n\n WHEELER\n Andrew brought AIDS into our\n offices, into our men's room.\n He brought AIDS to our annual\n goddamn family picnic.\n\n KENTON\n We ought to be suing him.\n\n SEIDMAN\n For Christ's sake, where's your\n compassion?\n\n KENTON\n Compass", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", ". He's in a stage of recovery.</u>\n\nON THE OTHER LAWYERS:\n\nCharles Wheeler (seeming ironic) and Walter Kenton (he's\npissed) lead the battalion.\n\nBehind them, walk young lawyers BELINDA CONINE and JEROME\nGREEN. Belinda is white, Jerome is black.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nHUSHED VOICES (INT./DAY) ...\n\nA JUDGE'S CHAMBERS, with couches, soft", "\n\nAndrew FREEZES -- the full nature of this situation hitting\nhome. He looks each of the PARTNERS in the eye...\n\n ANDREW\n Uh huh... Okay... I see...\n\n... at last LOOKING DIRECTLY AT Wheeler's secretary Lydia,\nwhose pen is poised above her notebook, waiting for someone\nto say something.\n\nWheeler breaks the silence.\n\n WHEELER\n Good luck, Andy.\n\nWheeler, Kenton, Killcoyne, Seid", "(And\nit's the sick, thin Andrew with AIDS).</u>\n\n ANDREW\n Relieved. That I'd never told\n him I was gay. Very relieved.\n\nANGLE ON CHARLES WHEELER: shakes his head, a denial.\n\n JOE\n Are you a good lawyer?\n\n ANDREW\n I'm an excellent lawyer.\n\n JOE\n What makes you an excellent\n lawyer?\n\n ANDREW", "E\n How did they find out?\n\n ANDREW\n (a second, then:)\n One of the partners spotted a\n lesion on my forehead.\n\nNearby, a CHINESE PROFESSOR looks up, startled, when she\nhears the word \"lesion.\"\n\n JOE\n Uh huh...\n\nAndrew concentrates on his work once more.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n How do you get from one lawyer\n spotting a les" ], [ "lesion on your face, in\n this mirror, three feet away?\n Answering truthfully.\n\nAndrew looks in the mirror: the lesion is NOT very visible.\n\n ANDREW\n By the time I was fired, there\n were four lesions on my face,\n much bigger...\n\n BELINDA\n Answer the question, please.\n\n ANDREW\n No. I can't really see it.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "E\n How did they find out?\n\n ANDREW\n (a second, then:)\n One of the partners spotted a\n lesion on my forehead.\n\nNearby, a CHINESE PROFESSOR looks up, startled, when she\nhears the word \"lesion.\"\n\n JOE\n Uh huh...\n\nAndrew concentrates on his work once more.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n How do you get from one lawyer\n spotting a les", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", "to the conclusion you had\n AIDS and fired you.\n\n ANDREW\n Absolutely.\n\n BELINDA\n Do you have any lesions on your\n face at this time?\n\n ANDREW\n One. Here, in front of my ear.\n\nAn ASSISTANT hands Conine a shaving mirror. She holds it\nbefore Andrew.\n\n BELINDA\n Remembering you are under oath,\n answering truthfully, can you\n see the", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", " telling anyone about it.\n\n JOE\n We?\n\n ANDREW\n My lover and I.\n\n JOE\n Your... lover?\n\n ANDREW\n Miguel Alvarez. We've lived\n together for nine years.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I dove back into work,\n everything was fine. Until the\n lesions started...\n\n SUDDENLY PICTURE C", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", "ion, which could\n have been a bruise, to the\n partners deducing you had AIDS\n and basing a decision to\n terminate you on that\n conclusion?\n\nThe CHINESE PROFESSOR moves away.\n\n ANDREW\n Good point.\n\nAndrew removes a legal pad with \"KENTON\" written in big\nletters across the top, and lots of notes underneath.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n The partner who spotted the\n lesion", "'ll never find it in the dark.\n\nSeidman FLIPS ON the overhead light. Andrew flinches.\n\nSeidman approaches. Andrew gives up trying to hide the\npurple blotches, facing his mentor straight on.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n What in God's name... ?\n\n ANDREW\n Bob...\n\n SEIDMAN\n What's wrong with your face?\n\n ANDREW\n What's wrong with my face? You\n want", "For a short period, I\n avoided the office during the\n day, waiting for the chemo\n therapy to clear up the\n lesions...\n\nIMAGE: ANDREW RIDING THE CROWDED ELEVATOR ON A WORKDAY.\n\n ANDREW (VO) (CONT.)\n But I never let anything slide.\n I made all my calls from home.\n I worked sixteen hour days on a\n complaint for a 350 million\n dollar copyright infringement\n ", "?</u>\n\nANDREW'S POV -- BOB SEIDMAN:\n\n SEIDMAN\n Yes, I did see the lesions. I\n suspected he was sick...\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW: closing his eyes.\n\nTHE VOICES GET LOUDER, FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER:\n\n WHEELER\n The everyday, common person with\n decent values...\n\n RACHEL\n It seems like he wasn't willing to\n face the <u", "GE GARNETT (CONT.)\n Can you go on for ten minutes?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes sir.\n\nJoe JUMPS UP from the plaintiff's table.\n\n JOE\n I only need five!\n (to Belinda, reaching\n for the mirror)\n May I?\n\nJoe approaches Andrew, with the mirror.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Do you have any lesions on <u>any</u>\n part of", " lesions on your face and arms\n were caused by AIDS?\n\nThe witness: MARIA TORRES, Hispanic, 35, healthy-looking.\n\n MARIA\n Definitely. People were going\n around, whispering things. I\n figured I didn't have anything\n to lose, so I told all the\n partners.\n\n JOE\n How did Walter Kenton treat you,\n after you told him you had AIDS?\n\nCLOSE ON KENT", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "TO:\n\nANDREW IS <u>SEEN FROM BEHIND</u>, SITTING ON A SOFA IN THE WAITING\narea. Very little hair shows beneath a Phillies ballcap...\n\nA MAN WEARING A NECKBRACE, sitting next to Andrew, RISES,\nMOVING to a seat opposite Andrew. From this new position the\nMAN WITH THE NECKBRACE STARES at Andrew.\n\nMAN WITH NECKBRACE'S POV:\n\n<u>The PURPLE BLOTCHES on Andrew", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "S WORKING ON HER COMPUTER, AT HOME, WHILE JOE PACES\naround her desk, really upset (One year-old Rayisha sits on\nthe desk playing with wooden salad spoons.) (INT./NIGHT) ...\n\n JOE\n But what was it?! What was this\n guy thinking... ?!\n\n LISA\n Don't know, Joe.\n\n JOE\n Is there some kind of expression\n I've picked up from Beckett?!\n Some" ], [ "lesion on your face, in\n this mirror, three feet away?\n Answering truthfully.\n\nAndrew looks in the mirror: the lesion is NOT very visible.\n\n ANDREW\n By the time I was fired, there\n were four lesions on my face,\n much bigger...\n\n BELINDA\n Answer the question, please.\n\n ANDREW\n No. I can't really see it.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "E\n How did they find out?\n\n ANDREW\n (a second, then:)\n One of the partners spotted a\n lesion on my forehead.\n\nNearby, a CHINESE PROFESSOR looks up, startled, when she\nhears the word \"lesion.\"\n\n JOE\n Uh huh...\n\nAndrew concentrates on his work once more.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n How do you get from one lawyer\n spotting a les", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", " telling anyone about it.\n\n JOE\n We?\n\n ANDREW\n My lover and I.\n\n JOE\n Your... lover?\n\n ANDREW\n Miguel Alvarez. We've lived\n together for nine years.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I dove back into work,\n everything was fine. Until the\n lesions started...\n\n SUDDENLY PICTURE C", "to the conclusion you had\n AIDS and fired you.\n\n ANDREW\n Absolutely.\n\n BELINDA\n Do you have any lesions on your\n face at this time?\n\n ANDREW\n One. Here, in front of my ear.\n\nAn ASSISTANT hands Conine a shaving mirror. She holds it\nbefore Andrew.\n\n BELINDA\n Remembering you are under oath,\n answering truthfully, can you\n see the", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", "For a short period, I\n avoided the office during the\n day, waiting for the chemo\n therapy to clear up the\n lesions...\n\nIMAGE: ANDREW RIDING THE CROWDED ELEVATOR ON A WORKDAY.\n\n ANDREW (VO) (CONT.)\n But I never let anything slide.\n I made all my calls from home.\n I worked sixteen hour days on a\n complaint for a 350 million\n dollar copyright infringement\n ", "'ll never find it in the dark.\n\nSeidman FLIPS ON the overhead light. Andrew flinches.\n\nSeidman approaches. Andrew gives up trying to hide the\npurple blotches, facing his mentor straight on.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n What in God's name... ?\n\n ANDREW\n Bob...\n\n SEIDMAN\n What's wrong with your face?\n\n ANDREW\n What's wrong with my face? You\n want", "I've been out of the office four\n days. I don't want them to\n think I've been to the beach.\n (searching for something)\n Okay. Check this out.\n\nAndrew puts on a pair of big glasses with tortoise shell\nframes, meant to help conceal the blotches.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n Hides everything, right? What\n do you think?\n\n CHANDRA\n You know who you look like,\n Andy", "ion, which could\n have been a bruise, to the\n partners deducing you had AIDS\n and basing a decision to\n terminate you on that\n conclusion?\n\nThe CHINESE PROFESSOR moves away.\n\n ANDREW\n Good point.\n\nAndrew removes a legal pad with \"KENTON\" written in big\nletters across the top, and lots of notes underneath.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n The partner who spotted the\n lesion", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", " lesions on your face and arms\n were caused by AIDS?\n\nThe witness: MARIA TORRES, Hispanic, 35, healthy-looking.\n\n MARIA\n Definitely. People were going\n around, whispering things. I\n figured I didn't have anything\n to lose, so I told all the\n partners.\n\n JOE\n How did Walter Kenton treat you,\n after you told him you had AIDS?\n\nCLOSE ON KENT", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", "?</u>\n\nANDREW'S POV -- BOB SEIDMAN:\n\n SEIDMAN\n Yes, I did see the lesions. I\n suspected he was sick...\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW: closing his eyes.\n\nTHE VOICES GET LOUDER, FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER:\n\n WHEELER\n The everyday, common person with\n decent values...\n\n RACHEL\n It seems like he wasn't willing to\n face the <u", ", Walter Kenton, used to\n work for Benton, Myers, in D.C.\n There's a paralegal there, Maria\n Torres. She's had lesions on\n and off for three years. She\n says it was common knowledge\n around the office that her\n lesions were caused by AIDS.\n\n JOE\n They didn't fire her?\n\n ANDREW\n No. They didn't fire her.\n\nAndrew goes back", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm" ], [ " Has a file ever disappeared like\n that before? Vanished into thin\n air, all of a sudden, only to\n reappear in the nick of time?\n\nJamey answers nervously:\n\n JAMEY\n I've never known that to happen\n before. No.\n\n JOE\n (fires this question)\n Did you have something to do\n with this file being lost\n accidentally-on-purpose?\n\n BELINDA\n ", "It's\n against the law to fire you for\n having AIDS, so they make you\n look like a fuck up. Which\n leads us to the mysterious, lost\n file.\n\n ANDREW\n They sabotaged me.\n\n JOE\n I knew you were going to say\n that. I don't buy it, and I\n don't see a case.\n\n ANDREW\n Look. I know I have a case. If\n ", "slants the window\nblinds, filling the room with shadow\n\nBob Seidman comes into the office, typically cheerful.\n\n SEIDMAN\n C'mon, Andy, you didn't lose\n anything...\n\nSeidman is struck by the mess in the office, and Andrew's\ndisheveled appearance.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n Jesus.\n\n ANDREW\n I don't know what to do, Bob.\n\n SEIDMAN\n You", "shoulder as:\n\n SEIDMAN\n You can erase the backup...\n (a challenge to Wheeler)\n But <u>why</u> would you?\n\n KENTON\n (venomous)\n What's the point, Bob?\n\n WHEELER\n (calm)\n Very interesting, Bob. Let's make a\n note of that. Andy didn't lose the\n complaint in his computer. He\n never put it in. He", "'s out of the room. He\ngoes to his computer, the monitor already glowing.\n\n ANDREW\n Think. You brought the discs in, you\n transferred...\n\nRachel comes into his office.\n\n RACHEL\n I thought I was supposed to be\n covering for you.\n (blurts out)\n God, Andy, you look awful.\n\n ANDREW\n Fucking Word Processing lost my\n Kronos complaint. Which must be\n", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "\n happened to that missing file.\n\n HOMEMAKER JUROR\n Wouldn't we all?\n\n POSTAL WORKER JUROR\n Ask the computer.\n\n COLLEGE STUDENT JUROR\n They say he wasn't competent. But,\n you heard him on the stand.\n\n ROCK MUSICIAN JUROR\n He sounded pretty smart to me.\n\n BUSINESSMAN JUROR\n Why", "K, FRANTICALLY SEARCHING\nthrough papers (INT./DAY) ...\n\nStartled when he sees Shelby, Andrew spins toward the wall.\n\n SHELBY\n I'm looking through the files but...\n\n ANDREW\n Call the messenger service, have\n someone standing by...\n (she reaches for the phone)\n <u>Your</u> phone.\n\n SHELBY\n Sure.\n\nAndrew keeps his face averted, until she", "S WORKING ON HER COMPUTER, AT HOME, WHILE JOE PACES\naround her desk, really upset (One year-old Rayisha sits on\nthe desk playing with wooden salad spoons.) (INT./NIGHT) ...\n\n JOE\n But what was it?! What was this\n guy thinking... ?!\n\n LISA\n Don't know, Joe.\n\n JOE\n Is there some kind of expression\n I've picked up from Beckett?!\n Some", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", " filed by fucking five o'clock!\n If it's late, there's no case...\n (the mantra)\n Every problem has a solution.\n\n RACHEL\n What can I do?\n\n ANDREW\n Get down to Word Processing.\n Help Jamey look.\n\nShe rushes out.\n\nAndrew begins shoving floppy discs into the slots on his\ncomputer, bringing up each disc's directory.\n\n ANDREW (CONT", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "We have letters.\n\n JOE\n Why haven't you produced these\n letters?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Take it easy.\n (to Wheeler)\n What's the big deal, Chuck? The\n boy wants a letter, to show to\n his mother, for her to keep after\n he's gone. Why are you being hard-\n assed about this?\n\n WHEELER\n I wish I could exonerate you,", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "Seidman)\n What, Bob?\n\n SEIDMAN\n No matter how hard I try, I\n can't lose a file in my\n computer.\n\nNOW he's got EVERYONE'S attention.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n The system automatically makes a\n backup.\n\nBelinda holds up both hands, interrupting with:\n\n BELINDA\n I don't think I should hear this.\n\nShe walks away, giving a glance over her", "\n support staff, associates, partners.\n Did <u>any</u> of them know Andy was sick?\n <u>How</u> did they know? Did he tell them?\n Did they notice something was wrong\n with his appearance? None of this\n information got to the managing\n partners. We know that. Make sure\n everyone else does too... And\n Beckett: I want to know everything\n about his personal life. Did he\n frequent those pathetic bars on\n ", "With\n Kronos. I don't want to\n upset Charles, but...\n (letting down his guard)\n Oh, shit, Bob, the complaint's\n due in forty minutes and I can't\n find it.\n (suddenly)\n No, you don't have to come...\n (hanging up the phone)\n Great. Fucking great.\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes, this is a nightmare.\n\nHe switches off the overhead light. He", " I was fired by Wyant Wheeler. I\n plan to bring a wrongful\n termination suit against Charles\n Wheeler and his partners.\n\n JOE\n You want to sue Wyant Wheeler\n Hellerman Tetlow and Brown?\n\n ANDREW\n Correct. I'm seeking\n representation.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I misplaced an important\n complaint. That's their story.\n ", "to his work. Joe stands there.\n\n JOE\n So Kenton connected the... lesion,\n <u>and</u> whatever suspicions he had about\n your personal life... to this\n woman, Maria... and blew the\n whistle on you. Suddenly you're\n losing files, and it's time to\n let you go. But, up to this\n point, you've been their Golden\n Boy, their rising star... Their\n behavior is... inconsistent.\n" ], [ "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n ", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "and Andrew without a word. The room\nbecomes SILENT as the Judge takes a seat.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Attorney for the plaintiff?\n\n JOE\n Joseph Miller, Your Honor.\n Macready and Shilts Legal Services.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n I've seen your television commercials.\n \"If you or anyone you know has\n been injured through the fault of\n others... It should say, \"through\n the <", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "Joe faces Andrew, also curious to know what Joe's up to.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, everyone in this\n courtroom is thinking about sexual\n preference, sexual orientation,\n whatever you want to call it.\n They're looking at me, and\n wondering about it...\n (looking at Andrew)\n They're looking at Mr. Beckett, and\n wondering about it. They're looking\n at Mr. Wheeler and wondering about\n it. They might even", "(And\nit's the sick, thin Andrew with AIDS).</u>\n\n ANDREW\n Relieved. That I'd never told\n him I was gay. Very relieved.\n\nANGLE ON CHARLES WHEELER: shakes his head, a denial.\n\n JOE\n Are you a good lawyer?\n\n ANDREW\n I'm an excellent lawyer.\n\n JOE\n What makes you an excellent\n lawyer?\n\n ANDREW", " JOE\n Let's review these notes for your\n testimony. We have a big day on\n Monday.\n\nJoe begins ticking off a list of courtroom reminders:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n When you refer to Wheeler, call him\n Charles, to show how you'd been\n admitted to the inner circle, you\n were considered one of them.\n\n ANDREW\n (distracted)\n Uh huh...\n\n JOE", " What?\n\n JOE\n Find a lawyer?\n\n ANDREW\n I'm a lawyer. How's your baby?\n\n JOE\n Huh? Oh. Great. She's great.\n\n ANDREW\n What's her name?\n\n JOE\n Rayisha.\n\n ANDREW\n Rayisha. Very nice.\n\nAndrew focuses on his work. Joe steps away.\n\nJoe comes back.\n\n JO", ". Let's cut\n through these false attitudes.\n Give them a figure. How much do\n you want?\n\n ANDREW\n I <u>want</u> to go back to work, Your\n Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n You're here at my indulgence,\n young man. I'm waiting for a\n figure, Joe.\n\nAndrew and Joe confer with each other.\n\n JOE\n Based on what my client would", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", " Now that you mention it...\n\n JOE\n Tell Iris all about it.\n (leading her out)\n Take good care of Mrs. Finley,\n Iris.\n (to Andrew)\n Beckett, come in.\n\nJoe offers his hand, getting a look at Andrew's face.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Jesus Christ, what happened to you?\n\n ANDREW\n I have AIDS.\n\nJoe WITHDRAWS his hand,", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human", "again, by the SECURITY GUARD, REVEALING\nJoe Miller (in jeans and basketball jacket) and a MARSHALL.\n\n JOE\n Excuse me. Charles Wheeler?\n\nWheeler turns. Joe SLAPS a document into Wheeler's hand.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Summons. For you.\n\nNOW the box is QUIET.\n\n DR. J.\n Say. What's up, Chuck?\n\n CUT TO", "INTERS on a scaffold.\n\nIris comes into the office and says:\n\n IRIS\n Wyant Wheeler's asking for a\n postponement on the prelim, Joe.\n\nJoe is dialing the phone.\n\n JOE\n Low-life, sleazy scumbags. Of\n course they want a postponement,\n I've got a client with a terminal\n disease. They're going to drag\n their heels every step of the way,\n " ], [ ".\n\nAndrew undoes his tie.\n\nANGLE ON THE MARINE JUROR -- WATCHING.\n\nAndrew unbuttons his collar buttons, working his way down.\n\nANGLE ON SARAH BECKETT -- WATCHING.\n\nAndrew stands, pulling his shirttails out of his trousers.\n\nANGLE ON CHARLES WHEELER -- WATCHING.\n\nAndrew removes his shirt -- THERE ARE PURPLE BLOTCHES\nSPLAYED ACROSS HIS CHEST AND ABD", "VE.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n (a moment, then)\n I'll allow it. Would you mind\n removing your shirt, Mr.\n Beckett?\n\nANGLE ON MIGUEL -- TENSE.\n\n ANDREW\n Allright.\n\nThe COURTROOM TURNS SILENT.\n\nAndrew removes his suit jacket. He's weak, so the smallest\ngesture requires effort.\n\nANGLE ON BOB SEIDMAN -- WATCHING", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", "\n JOE\n Mr. Laird, when I approached you\n about being a witness at this\n trial, and you agreed, you gave\n sworn testimony in a deposition.\n Is that correct?\n\n LAIRD\n That's correct.\n\n JOE\n According to the deposition, you\n said you were \"thrilled, impressed,\n overwhelmed\" by the quality of\n Andrew Beckett's work. Do you\n remember saying that?", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "GARNETT crosses his arms, waiting.\n\n--JOE glances at some notes.\n\n--MIGUEL and SARAH BECKETT look on anxiously.\n\n--WHEELER and the others observe in silence.\n\nCAMERA HOLDS ON BIBLE BEING CARRIED IN GLOVED HANDS, ACROSS\nTHE COURTROOM. OVER THIS SHOT IS A...\n\nTITLE: \"<u>Plaintiff's case. day fourteen.</u>\"\n\nThe BAILIFF", "Joe faces Andrew, also curious to know what Joe's up to.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, everyone in this\n courtroom is thinking about sexual\n preference, sexual orientation,\n whatever you want to call it.\n They're looking at me, and\n wondering about it...\n (looking at Andrew)\n They're looking at Mr. Beckett, and\n wondering about it. They're looking\n at Mr. Wheeler and wondering about\n it. They might even", "theirs...\n\nJoe crosses the courtroom, coming to stand in front of...\n\nANDREW, whose appearance has changed: <u>thinner, paler than we've\never seen him, some blisters on his lips. But the most disturbing\nthing about his appearance is the way he moves, slowly, like a\nmuch older man.</u> He's taking notes (which he will do\nrelentlessly throughout the trial.) And he has a cane at his\nside, which he'll use throughout the trial.\n\n JOE", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "places the Bible in front of Andrew (<u>a purple\nblotch is showing in front of Andrew's ear</u>.)\n\n BAILIFF\n Place your left hand on the\n Bible and raise your right hand.\n\nAndrew places his hand on the Bible.\n\n BAILIFF\n \"Do you swear to tell the truth...\n\n DIALOGUE OVERLAP AND DISSOLVE TO:\n\nANDREW ANSWERING A QUESTION AN HOUR OR SO LATER", "ELINDA\n You haven't ruled on my\n objection, Your Honor.\n\nKenton seems eager to tell his story. Joe stands with\ncrossed arms, waiting.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Let's continue.\n\n JOE\n (to Kenton)\n You had one guy \"like that?\"\n\n KENTON\n Yeah. But we took care of him.\n\n JOE\n How did you do that?\n\n KENT" ], [ ", Andrew's siblings, Jill, Matt, Randy, and\nhis parents, Bud and Sarah... Rachel, Anthea and Miguel's\nsister Maria.\n\nThe Marine rises to his feet.\n\n MARINE\n We have, Your Honor...\n\nCharles Wheeler looks the Marine in the eye.\n\n MARINE (CONT.)\n We find for the plaintiff,\n Andrew Beckett.\n\nJoe smiles, just barely, remaining calm.\n\nCharles Wheeler whispers to Belinda Con", ", my friends, our cherished\n institutions will be burned to the\n ground and our children and our\n grandchildren will live like\n savages.\n\n JOE\n If it please Your Honor, we <u>hope</u> to\n settle this matter.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n By God you <u>will</u> settle it! If you\n force this case to trial, young man,\n you'll regret it for the rest of\n your", "ine.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Have you awarded any damages?\n\n MARINE\n Yes, we have, Your Honor.\n (referring to a list)\n For back pay and loss of benefits\n ... one hundred fortythree\n thousand dollars.\n\nJoe shakes his head, disappointed, writing down the amount.\n\nWheeler and his crew SMILE -- THIS IS <u>THEIR</u> VICTORY.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)", "\n have earned over the next three\n years, including benefits and\n projected raises, and the\n extraordinary cost of medical\n care for someone with Acquired\n Immune Deficiency Syndrome...\n We would settle today for the\n very fair amount of one million\n five hundred thousand dollars.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Very good, Joe. Now, Belinda,\n I've got a figure over here, of\n one million, five. I...\n\n", "\n For damages related to mental\n anguish and humiliation... we give\n no award.\n\nJoe is <u>extremely</u> disappointed.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)\n And punitive damages we award...\n Four million, eight hundred and\n eighty two thousand dollars.\n\nJoe throws his pen over his shoulder.\n\nCOURTROOM BURSTS INTO AN UPROAR.\n\nAndrew's supporters, Joe's colleagues from his office rush", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "and Andrew without a word. The room\nbecomes SILENT as the Judge takes a seat.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Attorney for the plaintiff?\n\n JOE\n Joseph Miller, Your Honor.\n Macready and Shilts Legal Services.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n I've seen your television commercials.\n \"If you or anyone you know has\n been injured through the fault of\n others... It should say, \"through\n the <", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "know, in the handling\n of your lawsuit, Andrew Beckett was\n simply following orders.\n\n LAIRD\n That's a fair assessment of the\n situation.\n\nAndrew glances over his shoulder: at Robert Seidman, who\nmeets his gaze.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nSPECTATORS STREAM OUT OF CITY HALL INTO THE HUBBUB OF TWO\nDISTINCT GROUPS SHOUTING AT EACH OTHER (EXT/DAY): GAY RIGHT", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "u>negligence</u> of others.\"\n\n JOE\n I'll take that under consideration,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n On behalf of the defendants?\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n Belinda Conine. Of Petersen,\n Lehigh, Monroe and Smith.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n And Jerome Green.\n\nAnd a WASPISH lawyer wearing round glasses:\n\n DEXTER SMITH", " (after a beat)\n Great, Lisa. Thank you.\n\n TO:\n\nEXTERIOR: CITY HALL, AN AUTUMN DAY...\n\n JOE (VO)\n \"But, ultimately, the complaint\n was found, wasn't it?\n\n CONTINUOUS CUT TO:\n\nWIDE ANGLE ON COURTROOM: JAMEY COLLINS ON THE STAND (DAY).\n\n JAMEY\n Yes. We", "'m a law suit.\n\n ANDREW\n Not bad.\n\n JOE\n Get it?\n\n ANDREW\n Let's find you a drink.\n\nAndrew leads Joe through the crowd, greeting Rachel, skin\npainted blue (SMURFETTE) her daughter AMY (BART SIMPSON),\nAnthea, TYRONE from Dr. Gillman's office (A COWBOY), and\nTYRONE'S LOVER (A HORSE) ... Some of", "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", " thousand dollars to this\n neighborhood's schools, clinics\n and youth centers! Granting a\n restraining order on the\n construction site will throw\n hundreds of Philadelphians out\n of work, and will lend\n validation to this contemptible\n and groundless nuisance suit,\n which speaks directly to the\n kind of greed and treachery that\n today is threatening the very\n fabric of our society.\n\nJudge Tate looks skeptically at both", "and out of sunlight falling through tall windows.\n\nTITLE: \"<u>Pre-trial settlement conference.</u>\"\n\nREVERSE ANGLE -- DOWN AN OPPOSITE CORRIDOR:\n\nA PHALANX OF LAWYERS -- at least ten -- APPROACHING CAMERA, a\nbulwark of white shirts and dark ties.\n\nON ANDREW AND JOE:\n\n<u>Andrew's hair is short, but growing back, the blotches have\nreceded,his weight is up", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "GARNETT\n That's impossible, Joe.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n If it please Your Honor, we're\n prepared to offer a cash\n settlement of twenty-five\n thousand dollars.\n\n JOE\n Your generosity overwhelms me,\n Belinda, considering my client\n was earning over a hundred thou\n when he was terminated almost six\n months ago.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Give me a break, Joe" ], [ "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", "Yes.\n\n BELINDA\n Do men have sex with each other\n in that theater?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n<u>IMAGE: MOVING POV SHOT PAST ROWS OF GAY PORN MAGAZINES</u>\n(INT./NIGHT).\n\n BELINDA (OS)\n How about you, Mr. Beckett?\n\n<u>IMAGE: MOVING POV SHOT PAST FACES OF THE JURORS</u", "happen to be an innocent\n victim of the AIDS tragedy.\n\n MARIA\n Look. I'm no different from\n everyone else who has this\n disease: I'm not guilty, I'm\n not innocent. I'm just trying\n to survive.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJOE, APPROACHING A WITNESS (INT./DAY) ...\n\n JOE\n Beyond noticing the marks on\n his face, were there other\n ", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "VE.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n (a moment, then)\n I'll allow it. Would you mind\n removing your shirt, Mr.\n Beckett?\n\nANGLE ON MIGUEL -- TENSE.\n\n ANDREW\n Allright.\n\nThe COURTROOM TURNS SILENT.\n\nAndrew removes his suit jacket. He's weak, so the smallest\ngesture requires effort.\n\nANGLE ON BOB SEIDMAN -- WATCHING", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD" ], [ "lesion on your face, in\n this mirror, three feet away?\n Answering truthfully.\n\nAndrew looks in the mirror: the lesion is NOT very visible.\n\n ANDREW\n By the time I was fired, there\n were four lesions on my face,\n much bigger...\n\n BELINDA\n Answer the question, please.\n\n ANDREW\n No. I can't really see it.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you", "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "For a short period, I\n avoided the office during the\n day, waiting for the chemo\n therapy to clear up the\n lesions...\n\nIMAGE: ANDREW RIDING THE CROWDED ELEVATOR ON A WORKDAY.\n\n ANDREW (VO) (CONT.)\n But I never let anything slide.\n I made all my calls from home.\n I worked sixteen hour days on a\n complaint for a 350 million\n dollar copyright infringement\n ", "E\n How did they find out?\n\n ANDREW\n (a second, then:)\n One of the partners spotted a\n lesion on my forehead.\n\nNearby, a CHINESE PROFESSOR looks up, startled, when she\nhears the word \"lesion.\"\n\n JOE\n Uh huh...\n\nAndrew concentrates on his work once more.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n How do you get from one lawyer\n spotting a les", "to the conclusion you had\n AIDS and fired you.\n\n ANDREW\n Absolutely.\n\n BELINDA\n Do you have any lesions on your\n face at this time?\n\n ANDREW\n One. Here, in front of my ear.\n\nAn ASSISTANT hands Conine a shaving mirror. She holds it\nbefore Andrew.\n\n BELINDA\n Remembering you are under oath,\n answering truthfully, can you\n see the", " telling anyone about it.\n\n JOE\n We?\n\n ANDREW\n My lover and I.\n\n JOE\n Your... lover?\n\n ANDREW\n Miguel Alvarez. We've lived\n together for nine years.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I dove back into work,\n everything was fine. Until the\n lesions started...\n\n SUDDENLY PICTURE C", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", "ion, which could\n have been a bruise, to the\n partners deducing you had AIDS\n and basing a decision to\n terminate you on that\n conclusion?\n\nThe CHINESE PROFESSOR moves away.\n\n ANDREW\n Good point.\n\nAndrew removes a legal pad with \"KENTON\" written in big\nletters across the top, and lots of notes underneath.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n The partner who spotted the\n lesion", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", " lesions on your face and arms\n were caused by AIDS?\n\nThe witness: MARIA TORRES, Hispanic, 35, healthy-looking.\n\n MARIA\n Definitely. People were going\n around, whispering things. I\n figured I didn't have anything\n to lose, so I told all the\n partners.\n\n JOE\n How did Walter Kenton treat you,\n after you told him you had AIDS?\n\nCLOSE ON KENT", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", ", Walter Kenton, used to\n work for Benton, Myers, in D.C.\n There's a paralegal there, Maria\n Torres. She's had lesions on\n and off for three years. She\n says it was common knowledge\n around the office that her\n lesions were caused by AIDS.\n\n JOE\n They didn't fire her?\n\n ANDREW\n No. They didn't fire her.\n\nAndrew goes back", "?</u>\n\nANDREW'S POV -- BOB SEIDMAN:\n\n SEIDMAN\n Yes, I did see the lesions. I\n suspected he was sick...\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW: closing his eyes.\n\nTHE VOICES GET LOUDER, FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER:\n\n WHEELER\n The everyday, common person with\n decent values...\n\n RACHEL\n It seems like he wasn't willing to\n face the <u", " Hold still. Shit.\n (trying again)\n The goddamn vein's clotted. We\n have to go the goddamn hospital,\n so they can change the goddamn\n catheter.\n\n ANDREW\n I have too much work to do.\n Skip the treatment.\n\n MIGUEL\n We're not skipping this\n treatment.\n\n ANDREW\n I said, skip it, Michael. It", "'ll never find it in the dark.\n\nSeidman FLIPS ON the overhead light. Andrew flinches.\n\nSeidman approaches. Andrew gives up trying to hide the\npurple blotches, facing his mentor straight on.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n What in God's name... ?\n\n ANDREW\n Bob...\n\n SEIDMAN\n What's wrong with your face?\n\n ANDREW\n What's wrong with my face? You\n want", "theirs...\n\nJoe crosses the courtroom, coming to stand in front of...\n\nANDREW, whose appearance has changed: <u>thinner, paler than we've\never seen him, some blisters on his lips. But the most disturbing\nthing about his appearance is the way he moves, slowly, like a\nmuch older man.</u> He's taking notes (which he will do\nrelentlessly throughout the trial.) And he has a cane at his\nside, which he'll use throughout the trial.\n\n JOE", "W, but there's a certain energy, and\nhappiness evident in the room.\n\nON ANDREW: Watching his friends and relatives with sparkling\neyes and a weak, but grateful and peaceful smile.\n\nON JOE: Glancing across the room, catching Andrew's look.\n\nAndrew smiles at Joe and pats his hospital bed, indicating he\nwants Joe to sit there.\n\nJoe crosses the room, sits on the edge of the bed.\n\nWith some difficulty, Andrew removes his oxygen mask. His\nvoice is raspy," ], [ "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", "Miller.\n\nThe ELEVATOR OPENS: Andrew breezes past the MAN ON\nCRUTCHES, saying to Joe:\n\n ANDREW\n Client of yours?\n\n JOE\n Funny.\n\nAndrew hurries down the corridor. Joe waits a moment... then\npursues the MAN ON CRUTCHES.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Excuse me..? Sir? Yo!\n\n CUT TO:\n\nANDREW EKERG", "again, by the SECURITY GUARD, REVEALING\nJoe Miller (in jeans and basketball jacket) and a MARSHALL.\n\n JOE\n Excuse me. Charles Wheeler?\n\nWheeler turns. Joe SLAPS a document into Wheeler's hand.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Summons. For you.\n\nNOW the box is QUIET.\n\n DR. J.\n Say. What's up, Chuck?\n\n CUT TO", "lesion on your face, in\n this mirror, three feet away?\n Answering truthfully.\n\nAndrew looks in the mirror: the lesion is NOT very visible.\n\n ANDREW\n By the time I was fired, there\n were four lesions on my face,\n much bigger...\n\n BELINDA\n Answer the question, please.\n\n ANDREW\n No. I can't really see it.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you", "the wall, in which a day is\nbroken into hours, with medical instructions for each hour\n\n MIGUEL\n (shouting over MUSIC)\n Drew! Are you ready? If we\n start at eight, we'll be done by\n twelve.\n\nMiguel taps the IV bag, getting the drip started.\n\nA cat jumps onto the counter. Miguel holds it.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nANDREW SITS AT THE DININGROOM TABLE, MAK", "We just want to get him home.\n Thanks for stopping by, Joe.\n\nMiguel puts his arms around Joe and hugs him. Joe slaps\nMiguel's back.\n\n JOE\n Night.\n\nJoe leaves.\n\nMiguel begins circulating among the \"guests,\" saying:\n\n MIGUEL\n He's tired. He ought to sleep.\n\n CONTINUOUS CUT TO:\n\nJOE STEPPING INTO THE HOSPITAL E", "thinking...\n\n CUT TO:\n\nA SUBURBAN DOCTOR'S OFFICE IN A MIDDLE-CLASS NEIGHBORHOOD\n(EXT./DAY) ...\n\n DR. ARMBRUSTER (OS)\n You had contact with someone who\n has AIDS, and you're worried.\n\n CONTINUOUS CUT TO:\n\nA DOCTOR UNRAVELLING A BLOOD PRESSURE GAUGE (INT./DAY)\n\n JOE", " telling anyone about it.\n\n JOE\n We?\n\n ANDREW\n My lover and I.\n\n JOE\n Your... lover?\n\n ANDREW\n Miguel Alvarez. We've lived\n together for nine years.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I dove back into work,\n everything was fine. Until the\n lesions started...\n\n SUDDENLY PICTURE C", " we'll hear from my doctor, and\n we'll go from there. Okay?\n Everybody happy?\n\n INTERN\n Allright. I'll get on the lab\n about the blood work.\n\n MIGUEL\n (to the Intern)\n I'm sorry.\n\nThe INTERN walks away. Andrew's BEEPER BEEPS.\n\n ANDREW\n That's the third time. I better\n call the office.\n ", ".)\n ... we're trying to set a date for\n the prelim. Hang in there.\n\nAndrew's eyes are closed. Next to him rests a tape player. A\nWOMAN'S VOICE IS HEARD, accompanied by NEW AGE MUSIC:\n\n WOMAN'S VOICE\n I can heal myself.\n\n ANDREW\n I can heal myself.\n\n WOMAN'S VOICE\n I can heal myself.\n\n AND", "For a short period, I\n avoided the office during the\n day, waiting for the chemo\n therapy to clear up the\n lesions...\n\nIMAGE: ANDREW RIDING THE CROWDED ELEVATOR ON A WORKDAY.\n\n ANDREW (VO) (CONT.)\n But I never let anything slide.\n I made all my calls from home.\n I worked sixteen hour days on a\n complaint for a 350 million\n dollar copyright infringement\n ", "this whole tragic mess behind\n us.\n\nThey arrive at a quiet, semi-private cul de sac.\n\n WHEELER\n Andrew brought AIDS into our\n offices, into our men's room.\n He brought AIDS to our annual\n goddamn family picnic.\n\n KENTON\n We ought to be suing him.\n\n SEIDMAN\n For Christ's sake, where's your\n compassion?\n\n KENTON\n Compass", "?</u>\n\nANDREW'S POV -- BOB SEIDMAN:\n\n SEIDMAN\n Yes, I did see the lesions. I\n suspected he was sick...\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW: closing his eyes.\n\nTHE VOICES GET LOUDER, FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER:\n\n WHEELER\n The everyday, common person with\n decent values...\n\n RACHEL\n It seems like he wasn't willing to\n face the <u", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "a mob set\n fire to her house. Her mother\n died, saving her.\n\n \"I look...\n The place that cradled me was\n burning!\"\n\n Do you hear the heartache in her\n voice? Then, here come the\n strings. Everything changes.\n The music fills with hope.\n Madeleine says...\n\nAndrew sways through the room to the music, pulling the IV\nat his side. He seems truly free and relaxed.\n\n ANDREW", "'ll never find it in the dark.\n\nSeidman FLIPS ON the overhead light. Andrew flinches.\n\nSeidman approaches. Andrew gives up trying to hide the\npurple blotches, facing his mentor straight on.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n What in God's name... ?\n\n ANDREW\n Bob...\n\n SEIDMAN\n What's wrong with your face?\n\n ANDREW\n What's wrong with my face? You\n want", "OMEN AND ARMS.\n\nThe SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR GASPS.\n\nSarah Beckett is silently crying.\n\nThe LESBIAN JUROR closes her eyes.\n\n JOE\n Can you see the lesions on your\n chest in this mirror?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n JOE\n Thank you.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN ON CHARLES WHEELER...\n\n CUT TO:\nCOUR", "A DOCTOR'S HANDS (INT./DAY) ...\n\n DOCTOR\n There she is, okay. You can relax\n now, Lisa.\n\nLISA MILLER has just given birth to a baby girl. She\ncollapses on her pillow, gasping for breath, moaning in\npain, quietly crying a little.\n\nTITLE: \"<u>One month later.</u>\"\n\nThe NURSES and the (FEMALE) DOCTOR move professionally\naround the bed, doing their jobs.\n\nAt", "TO:\n\nANDREW IS <u>SEEN FROM BEHIND</u>, SITTING ON A SOFA IN THE WAITING\narea. Very little hair shows beneath a Phillies ballcap...\n\nA MAN WEARING A NECKBRACE, sitting next to Andrew, RISES,\nMOVING to a seat opposite Andrew. From this new position the\nMAN WITH THE NECKBRACE STARES at Andrew.\n\nMAN WITH NECKBRACE'S POV:\n\n<u>The PURPLE BLOTCHES on Andrew", "(smiling at Niguel)\n Would you relax, please?\n\n MIGUEL\n I am relaxed.\n\nAndrew HOBBLES toward a pay phone, outside a VISITOR LOUNGE,\nwhere weary relatives are watching TV.\n\nAndrew drops a quarter into the phone.\n\n JOE MILLER'S VOICE\n \"If you or someone you know...\"\n\nANDREW'S POV ON TELEVISION: Joe Miller on the screen, with the\nwords \"Neglig" ], [ "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", "be looking at\n you and wondering about it. So,\n let's get it out in the open. Let's\n talk about what this case is really\n about: the general public's\n hatred... our loathing, our <u>fear</u> of\n homosexuals.\n\nDEAD SILENCE while the Judge thinks it over.\n\nCLOSE ON ANDREW.\n\n ANDREW\n (to himself)\n Very good.\n\nCLOSE ON BELIN", ", my friends, our cherished\n institutions will be burned to the\n ground and our children and our\n grandchildren will live like\n savages.\n\n JOE\n If it please Your Honor, we <u>hope</u> to\n settle this matter.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n By God you <u>will</u> settle it! If you\n force this case to trial, young man,\n you'll regret it for the rest of\n your", "tremendously\n promising as a young attorney.\n That's why we went after him,\n that's why we hired him, and\n that's why we stuck with him,\n year after year... waiting for\n the promise to be fulfilled. But\n it never was.\n\n BELINDA\n You kept giving him another chance?\n\n WHEELER\n Of course we did. When you've\n groomed someone they way we groomed\n Andy, n", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "\n I love the law. I know the law.\n I excel at practicing it. It's\n the only thing I've ever wanted to do.\n\n JOE\n What do you love about it?\n\n ANDREW\n Well... many things. But I\n think the thing I love the most,\n is that every once in a while,\n not that often, but\n occasionally... you get to be\n part of justice being done.\n It's really", "and Andrew without a word. The room\nbecomes SILENT as the Judge takes a seat.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Attorney for the plaintiff?\n\n JOE\n Joseph Miller, Your Honor.\n Macready and Shilts Legal Services.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n I've seen your television commercials.\n \"If you or anyone you know has\n been injured through the fault of\n others... It should say, \"through\n the <", "MRS. FINLEY\n Yeah. Do I have a case?\n\n JOE\n Of course you have a case! Now,\n I want you to go with my\n assistant, Iris, and fill out\n some forms. She'll tell you\n about our fee arrangement.\n (as they're leaving)\n Mrs. Finley? Any back pain\n since the accident? Dizziness?\n Nightmares?\n\n MRS. FINLEY\n ", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "\n\nTITLE: \"<u>Jury deliberations.</u>\"\n\n WAITRESS JUROR\n They wanted to see if he'd rise\n to the challenge.\n\nAn American flag hangs on the wall.\n\n SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR\n They wanted to give him a final\n chance.\n\n POSTAL WORKER JUROR\n Makes sense.\n\n BUSINESSMAN JUROR\n I'd still love to know what", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human", " fact that they gave him the most\n important lawsuit they'd ever had,\n for one of their most important\n clients... they say that doesn't\n prove anything, because that was\n just a test. What did they call\n it? A carrot. To see if he'd rise\n to the occasion... Okay... Say\n I've got to send a pilot into\n enemy territory, and he's gonna\n be flying a plane that cost 350\n million dollars...\n", " for having AIDS. That's why we're\n here.\n\n BUSINESSMAN JUROR\n You're the foreman. You haven't said\n anything. What do you think?\n\nANGLE ON -- THE MARINE, sitting at the head of the table.\n\nCAMERA MOVES IN SLOWLY ON HIM:\n\n MARINE JUROR\n They're saying he wasn't a good\n lawyer. He was mediocre. And the\n ", ". Let's cut\n through these false attitudes.\n Give them a figure. How much do\n you want?\n\n ANDREW\n I <u>want</u> to go back to work, Your\n Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n You're here at my indulgence,\n young man. I'm waiting for a\n figure, Joe.\n\nAndrew and Joe confer with each other.\n\n JOE\n Based on what my client would", "great case.\n\nJoe looks up surprised. The YOUNG MAN smiles.\n\n YOUNG MAN (CONT.)\n I saw you on television. I'm a\n law student. At Penn.\n\nJoe is flattered by the YOUNG MAN'S interest.\n\n JOE\n Good school. What year?\n\n YOUNG MAN\n Second.\n\n JOE\n Great.\n\n YOUNG MAN\n Would you like to have", "toward Bob Seidman.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nCAMERA PULLS BACK FROM CHARLES WHEELER -- ON THE STAND...\n\n BELINDA\n Why did you recruit Andrew Beckett\n to your firm?\n\nAndrew uses all his strength to concentrate.\n\nCharles Wheeler speaks with great sincerity.\n\n WHEELER\n If you're the owner of a major\n league ball club, you recruit the\n hot rookie. And Andy was" ], [ "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "lesion on your face, in\n this mirror, three feet away?\n Answering truthfully.\n\nAndrew looks in the mirror: the lesion is NOT very visible.\n\n ANDREW\n By the time I was fired, there\n were four lesions on my face,\n much bigger...\n\n BELINDA\n Answer the question, please.\n\n ANDREW\n No. I can't really see it.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you", " Now that you mention it...\n\n JOE\n Tell Iris all about it.\n (leading her out)\n Take good care of Mrs. Finley,\n Iris.\n (to Andrew)\n Beckett, come in.\n\nJoe offers his hand, getting a look at Andrew's face.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Jesus Christ, what happened to you?\n\n ANDREW\n I have AIDS.\n\nJoe WITHDRAWS his hand,", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "W, but there's a certain energy, and\nhappiness evident in the room.\n\nON ANDREW: Watching his friends and relatives with sparkling\neyes and a weak, but grateful and peaceful smile.\n\nON JOE: Glancing across the room, catching Andrew's look.\n\nAndrew smiles at Joe and pats his hospital bed, indicating he\nwants Joe to sit there.\n\nJoe crosses the room, sits on the edge of the bed.\n\nWith some difficulty, Andrew removes his oxygen mask. His\nvoice is raspy,", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "theirs...\n\nJoe crosses the courtroom, coming to stand in front of...\n\nANDREW, whose appearance has changed: <u>thinner, paler than we've\never seen him, some blisters on his lips. But the most disturbing\nthing about his appearance is the way he moves, slowly, like a\nmuch older man.</u> He's taking notes (which he will do\nrelentlessly throughout the trial.) And he has a cane at his\nside, which he'll use throughout the trial.\n\n JOE", "the first prize of AIDS goes to\n Andrew Beckett and his lover\n Miguel...\" Excuse me, I'm not\n your lover. I'm your Care Partner.\n FUCK!\n\n ANDREW\n I'm not ready to die.\n\n MIGUEL\n Do you think I'm ready for it?!\n I hate this shit. I'm not a\n fucking martyr! I hate every\n goddamn part of it!\n\nMiguel", "...\n\nJoe moves down the corridor, looking for a particular room.\n\nDr. Gillman stands outside a hospital room, talking in a low\nvoice to Bud and Sarah Beckett. As Joe passes them,\nentering Andrew's room, he hears:\n\n DR. GILLMAN\n ... if he comes out of the\n hospital this time, you mustn't\n expect him to be like he was\n before...\n\nJoe steps into...\n\nANDREW'S HOSPITAL ROOM (INT./N", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "this whole tragic mess behind\n us.\n\nThey arrive at a quiet, semi-private cul de sac.\n\n WHEELER\n Andrew brought AIDS into our\n offices, into our men's room.\n He brought AIDS to our annual\n goddamn family picnic.\n\n KENTON\n We ought to be suing him.\n\n SEIDMAN\n For Christ's sake, where's your\n compassion?\n\n KENTON\n Compass", ",\n buddy.\n\nRev. Jim pats Andrew's shoulder.\n\n REV. JIM\n God bless you, Andy.\n\nBud Beckett kisses Andrew on the cheek.\n\n BUD\n Goodnight, son.\n Get some rest, okay?\n\nSarah Beckett is strong, kissing Andrew on the forehead.\n\n SARAH\n Goodnight angel, my sweet boy...\n\nRandy Beckett loses control of his emotions as he bends to hug\nhis brother", "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", " telling anyone about it.\n\n JOE\n We?\n\n ANDREW\n My lover and I.\n\n JOE\n Your... lover?\n\n ANDREW\n Miguel Alvarez. We've lived\n together for nine years.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I dove back into work,\n everything was fine. Until the\n lesions started...\n\n SUDDENLY PICTURE C", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "an aisle of books, keeping one eye\non Andrew, who concentrates on his work.\n\nJoe approaches, nonchalantly, as if he just <u>happens</u> to be\nsauntering by. Suddenly he \"notices\" Andrew.\n\n JOE\n Oh, Beckett. How's it goin'?\n\n ANDREW\n Fine.\n\nAndrew goes back to his work.\n\n JOE\n Who'd you get?\n\n ANDREW\n ", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT" ], [ "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "lesion on your face, in\n this mirror, three feet away?\n Answering truthfully.\n\nAndrew looks in the mirror: the lesion is NOT very visible.\n\n ANDREW\n By the time I was fired, there\n were four lesions on my face,\n much bigger...\n\n BELINDA\n Answer the question, please.\n\n ANDREW\n No. I can't really see it.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you", " Hold still. Shit.\n (trying again)\n The goddamn vein's clotted. We\n have to go the goddamn hospital,\n so they can change the goddamn\n catheter.\n\n ANDREW\n I have too much work to do.\n Skip the treatment.\n\n MIGUEL\n We're not skipping this\n treatment.\n\n ANDREW\n I said, skip it, Michael. It", "For a short period, I\n avoided the office during the\n day, waiting for the chemo\n therapy to clear up the\n lesions...\n\nIMAGE: ANDREW RIDING THE CROWDED ELEVATOR ON A WORKDAY.\n\n ANDREW (VO) (CONT.)\n But I never let anything slide.\n I made all my calls from home.\n I worked sixteen hour days on a\n complaint for a 350 million\n dollar copyright infringement\n ", "ion, which could\n have been a bruise, to the\n partners deducing you had AIDS\n and basing a decision to\n terminate you on that\n conclusion?\n\nThe CHINESE PROFESSOR moves away.\n\n ANDREW\n Good point.\n\nAndrew removes a legal pad with \"KENTON\" written in big\nletters across the top, and lots of notes underneath.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n The partner who spotted the\n lesion", "your body, at this time,\n that resemble the lesions that\n were on your face at the time\n you were fired?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes. On my torso.\n\n JOE\n If it please the court, I'd like\n to ask Mr. Beckett to\n remove his shirt, so that the\n jury can have an <u>accurate</u> idea\n of what we're talking about.\n\n BELINDA\n ", "E\n How did they find out?\n\n ANDREW\n (a second, then:)\n One of the partners spotted a\n lesion on my forehead.\n\nNearby, a CHINESE PROFESSOR looks up, startled, when she\nhears the word \"lesion.\"\n\n JOE\n Uh huh...\n\nAndrew concentrates on his work once more.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n How do you get from one lawyer\n spotting a les", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "'ll never find it in the dark.\n\nSeidman FLIPS ON the overhead light. Andrew flinches.\n\nSeidman approaches. Andrew gives up trying to hide the\npurple blotches, facing his mentor straight on.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n What in God's name... ?\n\n ANDREW\n Bob...\n\n SEIDMAN\n What's wrong with your face?\n\n ANDREW\n What's wrong with my face? You\n want", " telling anyone about it.\n\n JOE\n We?\n\n ANDREW\n My lover and I.\n\n JOE\n Your... lover?\n\n ANDREW\n Miguel Alvarez. We've lived\n together for nine years.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I dove back into work,\n everything was fine. Until the\n lesions started...\n\n SUDDENLY PICTURE C", "to the conclusion you had\n AIDS and fired you.\n\n ANDREW\n Absolutely.\n\n BELINDA\n Do you have any lesions on your\n face at this time?\n\n ANDREW\n One. Here, in front of my ear.\n\nAn ASSISTANT hands Conine a shaving mirror. She holds it\nbefore Andrew.\n\n BELINDA\n Remembering you are under oath,\n answering truthfully, can you\n see the", "neck are marked with PURPLE BLOTCHES.\n\nAndrew closes his eyes, concentrating for a moment on the\nCLASSICAL MUSIC... then goes back to work.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nANDREW HURRIES OUT OF THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE, HAILING A CAB\n(EXT./DAY) ...\n\n CUT TO:\n\nANDREW HOPS OUT OF THE CAB, IN FRONT OF AN IMPRESSIVE\nskyscraper in downtown Philly, at the", ", Walter Kenton, used to\n work for Benton, Myers, in D.C.\n There's a paralegal there, Maria\n Torres. She's had lesions on\n and off for three years. She\n says it was common knowledge\n around the office that her\n lesions were caused by AIDS.\n\n JOE\n They didn't fire her?\n\n ANDREW\n No. They didn't fire her.\n\nAndrew goes back", " lesions on your face and arms\n were caused by AIDS?\n\nThe witness: MARIA TORRES, Hispanic, 35, healthy-looking.\n\n MARIA\n Definitely. People were going\n around, whispering things. I\n figured I didn't have anything\n to lose, so I told all the\n partners.\n\n JOE\n How did Walter Kenton treat you,\n after you told him you had AIDS?\n\nCLOSE ON KENT", " things about his appearance\n that made you suspect he had\n AIDS?\n\nTHE WITNESS: Paralegal Anthea Burton.\n\n ANTHEA\n He was losing weight. He looked\n kind of tired sometimes. But he\n was working so hard... Still, I\n felt something was wrong.\n (looking at Wheeler)\n And I can't believe <u>they're</u>\n saying they didn't notice\n anything.\n\n B", "We object, Your Honor. It would\n unfairly influence the jury.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, if Mr. Beckett was\n forced by his illness to use a\n wheelchair, would the defense\n ask him to park it outside?\n We're talking about AIDS, we're\n talking about lesions. Let's\n <u>see</u> what we're talking about.\n\nANGLE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY -- LOOKING APPREHENSI", "happen to be an innocent\n victim of the AIDS tragedy.\n\n MARIA\n Look. I'm no different from\n everyone else who has this\n disease: I'm not guilty, I'm\n not innocent. I'm just trying\n to survive.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJOE, APPROACHING A WITNESS (INT./DAY) ...\n\n JOE\n Beyond noticing the marks on\n his face, were there other\n ", "reference book when a LIBRARIAN\nsaunters by (INT./DAY) ...\n\nA CHAIR SQUEAKS and Joe LOOKS UP TO SEE:\n\nAndrew taking a seat across the room (<u>the blotches have been\nreduced by chemo, but he's struggling with a cold</u>). Andrew\nremoves notepads and pens from his briefcase. He takes out a\npackage of tissues, blowing his nose.\n\n JOE\n (under his breath)\n Shit...", " a bruise, is that correct?\n\n KENTON\n I <u>know</u> the difference. That\n doesn't mean I'm always able to\n recognize the difference.\n\n JOE\n But didn't you avoid contact\n with Ms. Torres, after you found\n out she had AIDS? She says you\n acted repulsed by her and you\n avoided her, is that correct?\n\n KENTON\n I felt, and still", "\n\nIt's a mirror image. <u>The BLOTCHES vary from the size of a\ndime, to the size of a half-dollar.</u> He looks awful.\n\nA YOUNG, BLACK WOMAN'S FINGER applies makeup to Andrew's\nface, trying to cover the blotches. This is his friend\nCHANDRA.\n\n CHANDRA (O.S.)\n You want to apply the foundation\n as evenly as you can, Andy. You\n don'" ], [ ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", " Has a file ever disappeared like\n that before? Vanished into thin\n air, all of a sudden, only to\n reappear in the nick of time?\n\nJamey answers nervously:\n\n JAMEY\n I've never known that to happen\n before. No.\n\n JOE\n (fires this question)\n Did you have something to do\n with this file being lost\n accidentally-on-purpose?\n\n BELINDA\n ", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", " filed by fucking five o'clock!\n If it's late, there's no case...\n (the mantra)\n Every problem has a solution.\n\n RACHEL\n What can I do?\n\n ANDREW\n Get down to Word Processing.\n Help Jamey look.\n\nShe rushes out.\n\nAndrew begins shoving floppy discs into the slots on his\ncomputer, bringing up each disc's directory.\n\n ANDREW (CONT", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "We have letters.\n\n JOE\n Why haven't you produced these\n letters?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Take it easy.\n (to Wheeler)\n What's the big deal, Chuck? The\n boy wants a letter, to show to\n his mother, for her to keep after\n he's gone. Why are you being hard-\n assed about this?\n\n WHEELER\n I wish I could exonerate you,", "It's\n against the law to fire you for\n having AIDS, so they make you\n look like a fuck up. Which\n leads us to the mysterious, lost\n file.\n\n ANDREW\n They sabotaged me.\n\n JOE\n I knew you were going to say\n that. I don't buy it, and I\n don't see a case.\n\n ANDREW\n Look. I know I have a case. If\n ", "K, FRANTICALLY SEARCHING\nthrough papers (INT./DAY) ...\n\nStartled when he sees Shelby, Andrew spins toward the wall.\n\n SHELBY\n I'm looking through the files but...\n\n ANDREW\n Call the messenger service, have\n someone standing by...\n (she reaches for the phone)\n <u>Your</u> phone.\n\n SHELBY\n Sure.\n\nAndrew keeps his face averted, until she", "S WORKING ON HER COMPUTER, AT HOME, WHILE JOE PACES\naround her desk, really upset (One year-old Rayisha sits on\nthe desk playing with wooden salad spoons.) (INT./NIGHT) ...\n\n JOE\n But what was it?! What was this\n guy thinking... ?!\n\n LISA\n Don't know, Joe.\n\n JOE\n Is there some kind of expression\n I've picked up from Beckett?!\n Some", ".)\n No.\n\nHe throws the disc to the floor. Shoves in another.\n\nShoves in another, bending it in half.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n No, goddammit!\n\nHe pulls open a file drawer, dumping legal briefs onto the\nfloor, frantically spreading them around with his foot.\n\nAndrew THROWS a document across the room, takes a breath.\n\nHe picks up the telephone.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n Bob? Something's come up.", "s in my computer.\n\n JAMEY\n What did you file it under?\n\nJamey puts his hands on Andrew's computer keyboard.\n\n ANDREW\n K-R-O-one.\n\nJamey types the file name.\n\n ANDREW (CONT.)\n Jamey, I don't have to mention,\n do I, that we're up against a\n statute of limitations on this\n complaint which runs out in...\n (checks his", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "'s out of the room. He\ngoes to his computer, the monitor already glowing.\n\n ANDREW\n Think. You brought the discs in, you\n transferred...\n\nRachel comes into his office.\n\n RACHEL\n I thought I was supposed to be\n covering for you.\n (blurts out)\n God, Andy, you look awful.\n\n ANDREW\n Fucking Word Processing lost my\n Kronos complaint. Which must be\n", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", "slants the window\nblinds, filling the room with shadow\n\nBob Seidman comes into the office, typically cheerful.\n\n SEIDMAN\n C'mon, Andy, you didn't lose\n anything...\n\nSeidman is struck by the mess in the office, and Andrew's\ndisheveled appearance.\n\n SEIDMAN (CONT.)\n Jesus.\n\n ANDREW\n I don't know what to do, Bob.\n\n SEIDMAN\n You", "\n support staff, associates, partners.\n Did <u>any</u> of them know Andy was sick?\n <u>How</u> did they know? Did he tell them?\n Did they notice something was wrong\n with his appearance? None of this\n information got to the managing\n partners. We know that. Make sure\n everyone else does too... And\n Beckett: I want to know everything\n about his personal life. Did he\n frequent those pathetic bars on\n ", "suit.\n\nIMAGE: JOE IN HIS OFFICE, ABSORBED IN ANDREW'S STORY.\n\n ANDREW (OS) (CONT.)\n But the day the complaint was\n due, it disappeared. Erased\n from my computer. I thought I\n was losing it, mentally...\n\nIMAGE: ELEVATOR DOORS OPENING, ANDREW STEPPING INTO WYANT\nWHEELER OFFICES. <u>NOW HE SPEAKS DIRECTLY TO CAMER" ], [ ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "\n I love the law. I know the law.\n I excel at practicing it. It's\n the only thing I've ever wanted to do.\n\n JOE\n What do you love about it?\n\n ANDREW\n Well... many things. But I\n think the thing I love the most,\n is that every once in a while,\n not that often, but\n occasionally... you get to be\n part of justice being done.\n It's really", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", "is about\n Andrew Beckett's character. Am I\n getting this right?\n\n WHEELER\n Yes, character. To the extent that it\n affects a person's ability to do\n a great job.\n\nAndrew looks away -- face shiny with sweat, breathing\ndifficult. He takes in the rest of the court, while\nWheeler's words THROB THROUGH THE AIR...\n\n WHEELER (CONT.)\n Andy worked when he wanted to work,\n telling us", "ion? Andy sucks cocks,\n Bob. He takes it up the ass.\n He's a pervert.\n\nOnly Seidman shows any kind of REACTION.\n\n SEIDMAN\n That's kind of... extreme, Walt.\n Andy's private life is none of\n our business.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. You're trying my patience.\n Andrew Beckett is making his\n private life our business. We\n gave him Kronos. Did he say", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "It's\n against the law to fire you for\n having AIDS, so they make you\n look like a fuck up. Which\n leads us to the mysterious, lost\n file.\n\n ANDREW\n They sabotaged me.\n\n JOE\n I knew you were going to say\n that. I don't buy it, and I\n don't see a case.\n\n ANDREW\n Look. I know I have a case. If\n ", " I was fired by Wyant Wheeler. I\n plan to bring a wrongful\n termination suit against Charles\n Wheeler and his partners.\n\n JOE\n You want to sue Wyant Wheeler\n Hellerman Tetlow and Brown?\n\n ANDREW\n Correct. I'm seeking\n representation.\n\n JOE\n Continue.\n\n ANDREW\n I misplaced an important\n complaint. That's their story.\n ", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", " LAIRD\n That's correct.\n\n JOE\n Were you pleased with his work?\n\n LAIRD\n We were satisfied.\n\nJoe and Andrew exchange a LOOK -- Laird's response surprises and\ndisappoints them.\n\n JOE\n Were you satisfied, or were you\n pleased?\n\nLaird glances toward Charles Wheeler before answering.\n\n LAIRD\n We were satisfied.\n\nJoe refers to legal documents.\n", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human" ], [ "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "ELINDA\n Objection.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Just answer the question.\n\n ANTHEA\n Sorry.\n\n JOE\n Ms. Burton. You're black.\n\n ANTHEA\n Is that a question?\n\n JOE\n No. Have you ever felt\n discriminated against, at Wyant\n Wheeler?\n\n ANTHEA\n Yes.\n\nWheeler shakes his head, disgusted", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "know, in the handling\n of your lawsuit, Andrew Beckett was\n simply following orders.\n\n LAIRD\n That's a fair assessment of the\n situation.\n\nAndrew glances over his shoulder: at Robert Seidman, who\nmeets his gaze.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nSPECTATORS STREAM OUT OF CITY HALL INTO THE HUBBUB OF TWO\nDISTINCT GROUPS SHOUTING AT EACH OTHER (EXT/DAY): GAY RIGHT", "EXECUTIVE FROM A\nlarge insurance company, MR. LAIRD (INT./DAY) ...\n\n JOE\n Andrew Beckett represented your\n company in a lawsuit in 1990, is\n that correct?\n\n LAIRD\n Wyant Wheeler represented us.\n\nAndrew glances toward the jury box: the MARINE JUROR writes in a\ntiny notebook.\n\n JOE\n But, Andrew Beckett was in charge of\n litigation for the suit.\n\n", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", "\n Five months ago you characterized\n Andrew Beckett as caviar and now\n you're calling him a cheeseburger.\n Your standards have shifted a\n great deal, and I'd like to know\n why you've changed your mind.\n\n LAIRD\n Since that time I've devoted more\n thought to the subject, and that's\n how I feel now.\n\n QUICK CUT TO:\n\nJEROME GREEN CROSS-EX", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n ", ", Andrew's siblings, Jill, Matt, Randy, and\nhis parents, Bud and Sarah... Rachel, Anthea and Miguel's\nsister Maria.\n\nThe Marine rises to his feet.\n\n MARINE\n We have, Your Honor...\n\nCharles Wheeler looks the Marine in the eye.\n\n MARINE (CONT.)\n We find for the plaintiff,\n Andrew Beckett.\n\nJoe smiles, just barely, remaining calm.\n\nCharles Wheeler whispers to Belinda Con", ". He's in a stage of recovery.</u>\n\nON THE OTHER LAWYERS:\n\nCharles Wheeler (seeming ironic) and Walter Kenton (he's\npissed) lead the battalion.\n\nBehind them, walk young lawyers BELINDA CONINE and JEROME\nGREEN. Belinda is white, Jerome is black.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nHUSHED VOICES (INT./DAY) ...\n\nA JUDGE'S CHAMBERS, with couches, soft", "is about\n Andrew Beckett's character. Am I\n getting this right?\n\n WHEELER\n Yes, character. To the extent that it\n affects a person's ability to do\n a great job.\n\nAndrew looks away -- face shiny with sweat, breathing\ndifficult. He takes in the rest of the court, while\nWheeler's words THROB THROUGH THE AIR...\n\n WHEELER (CONT.)\n Andy worked when he wanted to work,\n telling us", "u>negligence</u> of others.\"\n\n JOE\n I'll take that under consideration,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n On behalf of the defendants?\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n Belinda Conine. Of Petersen,\n Lehigh, Monroe and Smith.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n And Jerome Green.\n\nAnd a WASPISH lawyer wearing round glasses:\n\n DEXTER SMITH", "toward Bob Seidman.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nCAMERA PULLS BACK FROM CHARLES WHEELER -- ON THE STAND...\n\n BELINDA\n Why did you recruit Andrew Beckett\n to your firm?\n\nAndrew uses all his strength to concentrate.\n\nCharles Wheeler speaks with great sincerity.\n\n WHEELER\n If you're the owner of a major\n league ball club, you recruit the\n hot rookie. And Andy was", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human" ], [ "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "the first prize of AIDS goes to\n Andrew Beckett and his lover\n Miguel...\" Excuse me, I'm not\n your lover. I'm your Care Partner.\n FUCK!\n\n ANDREW\n I'm not ready to die.\n\n MIGUEL\n Do you think I'm ready for it?!\n I hate this shit. I'm not a\n fucking martyr! I hate every\n goddamn part of it!\n\nMiguel", "an aisle of books, keeping one eye\non Andrew, who concentrates on his work.\n\nJoe approaches, nonchalantly, as if he just <u>happens</u> to be\nsauntering by. Suddenly he \"notices\" Andrew.\n\n JOE\n Oh, Beckett. How's it goin'?\n\n ANDREW\n Fine.\n\nAndrew goes back to his work.\n\n JOE\n Who'd you get?\n\n ANDREW\n ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "\nWalter Kenton has shifted a lamp, so that its LIGHT FALLS\nACROSS ANDREW'S FACE, REVEALING: <u>a faint purple blotch\nabout the size of a quarter, much like the blotches we saw\non the HISPANIC PATIENT in Andrew's doctor's office.</u>\n\n KENTON\n Why, Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Because they deserve to, Walter.\n\nAndrew lifts his hand, finding that his hair has", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n ", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", ",\n buddy.\n\nRev. Jim pats Andrew's shoulder.\n\n REV. JIM\n God bless you, Andy.\n\nBud Beckett kisses Andrew on the cheek.\n\n BUD\n Goodnight, son.\n Get some rest, okay?\n\nSarah Beckett is strong, kissing Andrew on the forehead.\n\n SARAH\n Goodnight angel, my sweet boy...\n\nRandy Beckett loses control of his emotions as he bends to hug\nhis brother", "S WORKING ON HER COMPUTER, AT HOME, WHILE JOE PACES\naround her desk, really upset (One year-old Rayisha sits on\nthe desk playing with wooden salad spoons.) (INT./NIGHT) ...\n\n JOE\n But what was it?! What was this\n guy thinking... ?!\n\n LISA\n Don't know, Joe.\n\n JOE\n Is there some kind of expression\n I've picked up from Beckett?!\n Some", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "REW\n The fate of the participants\n interests me, yes sir.\n\nWheeler, Kenton and Seidman proceed with the male ritual of\npreparing cigars to be smoked: snipping the ends with a brass\nclip, rolling them over their tongues to wet them, sliding the\ncigars in and out of their rounded mouths.\n\nAndrew, holding a cigar but NOT preparing to light it, watches\nwith a not completely concealed twinkle in his eye.\n\nWheeler leans back in his chair, swirling a brandy", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", "Yes.\n\n BELINDA\n Do men have sex with each other\n in that theater?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n<u>IMAGE: MOVING POV SHOT PAST ROWS OF GAY PORN MAGAZINES</u>\n(INT./NIGHT).\n\n BELINDA (OS)\n How about you, Mr. Beckett?\n\n<u>IMAGE: MOVING POV SHOT PAST FACES OF THE JURORS</u", "! Yes!\n (chewing a string bean)\n Rentworth v. Pennsylvania...\n court of appeals affirms jury\n award of punitive damages for\n wrongful interference with\n prospective economic\n relations...\n\nA SHADOW falls across Andrew. He IGNORES IT.\n\nANGLE: TWO MEN IN SILHOUETTE. WALTER KENTON says:\n\n KENTON\n Look at this fucking guy. He's\n an animal" ], [ ", Andrew's siblings, Jill, Matt, Randy, and\nhis parents, Bud and Sarah... Rachel, Anthea and Miguel's\nsister Maria.\n\nThe Marine rises to his feet.\n\n MARINE\n We have, Your Honor...\n\nCharles Wheeler looks the Marine in the eye.\n\n MARINE (CONT.)\n We find for the plaintiff,\n Andrew Beckett.\n\nJoe smiles, just barely, remaining calm.\n\nCharles Wheeler whispers to Belinda Con", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "us\n as possible.\n\nJoe walks away from Andrew.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n The behavior of Andrew Beckett's\n employers may seem reasonable to\n you. It does to me. After all, AIDS\n is a deadly, incurable, disease...\n\nCLOSE ON MEMBERS OF THE JURY.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n But however you come to judge the\n behavior of Charles Wheeler and\n his partners in moral, ethical,\n human", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "ON\n We stuck his head in the\n latrine, after ten of us had\n used it.\n\nLAUGHTER and SOME APPLAUSE from some SPECTATORS, and some\nJURORS. ACTIVISTS BOO and HISS.\n\nThe JUDGE POUNDS HIS GAVEL.\n\n JOE\n You taught him a lesson.\n\n KENTON\n Yes, we did.\n\n JOE\n Like firing Andrew Beckett\n ", "\n\nTITLE: \"<u>Jury deliberations.</u>\"\n\n WAITRESS JUROR\n They wanted to see if he'd rise\n to the challenge.\n\nAn American flag hangs on the wall.\n\n SCHOOLTEACHER JUROR\n They wanted to give him a final\n chance.\n\n POSTAL WORKER JUROR\n Makes sense.\n\n BUSINESSMAN JUROR\n I'd still love to know what", "Yes.\n\n BELINDA\n Do men have sex with each other\n in that theater?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\n<u>IMAGE: MOVING POV SHOT PAST ROWS OF GAY PORN MAGAZINES</u>\n(INT./NIGHT).\n\n BELINDA (OS)\n How about you, Mr. Beckett?\n\n<u>IMAGE: MOVING POV SHOT PAST FACES OF THE JURORS</u", "act. Andrew Beckett is dying.\n\nJoe watches Andrew for his reaction.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. Andrew Beckett is angry.\n Because his \"lifestyle,\" his\n reckless behavior, has cut short\n his life... And in his anger, his\n rage, he's lashing out. And he\n wants someone to <u>pay</u>.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nON THE WITNESS STAND: A SOLIDLY BUILT", "ine.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Have you awarded any damages?\n\n MARINE\n Yes, we have, Your Honor.\n (referring to a list)\n For back pay and loss of benefits\n ... one hundred fortythree\n thousand dollars.\n\nJoe shakes his head, disappointed, writing down the amount.\n\nWheeler and his crew SMILE -- THIS IS <u>THEIR</u> VICTORY.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "terms... When they fired\n Andrew Beckett because he had\n AIDS, <u>they broke the law</u>.\n\nWith a swift, direct glance at the Judge, Joe speaks with\nconsiderable power and emotion:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n And, when lawyers break the law,\n when this society loses respect\n for the law, when that day comes,\n our cherished institutions will be\n burned to the ground, and our\n children and grandchildren will\n live like savages", "\n For damages related to mental\n anguish and humiliation... we give\n no award.\n\nJoe is <u>extremely</u> disappointed.\n\n MARINE JUROR (CONT.)\n And punitive damages we award...\n Four million, eight hundred and\n eighty two thousand dollars.\n\nJoe throws his pen over his shoulder.\n\nCOURTROOM BURSTS INTO AN UPROAR.\n\nAndrew's supporters, Joe's colleagues from his office rush", "Andrew Beckett.\n\nA moment before it sinks in, then: Andrew clenches his fist\nin a victory salute.\n\n ANDREW\n Yes!\n\n SEIDMAN\n You'll have to get right on it,\n Andy, we're up against the\n statute of limitations.\n\nAn ASSOCIATE LAWYER in shirtsleeves taps on the office door.\n\n ASSOCIATE LAWYER\n Tokyo on four, Bob.\n\n ", "EXECUTIVE FROM A\nlarge insurance company, MR. LAIRD (INT./DAY) ...\n\n JOE\n Andrew Beckett represented your\n company in a lawsuit in 1990, is\n that correct?\n\n LAIRD\n Wyant Wheeler represented us.\n\nAndrew glances toward the jury box: the MARINE JUROR writes in a\ntiny notebook.\n\n JOE\n But, Andrew Beckett was in charge of\n litigation for the suit.\n\n", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "and Andrew without a word. The room\nbecomes SILENT as the Judge takes a seat.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Attorney for the plaintiff?\n\n JOE\n Joseph Miller, Your Honor.\n Macready and Shilts Legal Services.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n I've seen your television commercials.\n \"If you or anyone you know has\n been injured through the fault of\n others... It should say, \"through\n the <", "know, in the handling\n of your lawsuit, Andrew Beckett was\n simply following orders.\n\n LAIRD\n That's a fair assessment of the\n situation.\n\nAndrew glances over his shoulder: at Robert Seidman, who\nmeets his gaze.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nSPECTATORS STREAM OUT OF CITY HALL INTO THE HUBBUB OF TWO\nDISTINCT GROUPS SHOUTING AT EACH OTHER (EXT/DAY): GAY RIGHT", ", my friends, our cherished\n institutions will be burned to the\n ground and our children and our\n grandchildren will live like\n savages.\n\n JOE\n If it please Your Honor, we <u>hope</u> to\n settle this matter.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n By God you <u>will</u> settle it! If you\n force this case to trial, young man,\n you'll regret it for the rest of\n your", "! Yes!\n (chewing a string bean)\n Rentworth v. Pennsylvania...\n court of appeals affirms jury\n award of punitive damages for\n wrongful interference with\n prospective economic\n relations...\n\nA SHADOW falls across Andrew. He IGNORES IT.\n\nANGLE: TWO MEN IN SILHOUETTE. WALTER KENTON says:\n\n KENTON\n Look at this fucking guy. He's\n an animal", " in the business, Your Honor!\n\nJamey shoves open the door, REVEALING TWO LAWYERS (BACKS TO\nCAMERA) STANDING BEFORE JUDGE EUNICE TATE: ANDREW BECKETT\n(in conservative gray) and JOSEPH MILLER (in pinstripes).\n\n JUDGE TATE\n One at a time. Mr. Miller?\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, since Rockwell Corp.\n began construction, the\n " ], [ "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", "an aisle of books, keeping one eye\non Andrew, who concentrates on his work.\n\nJoe approaches, nonchalantly, as if he just <u>happens</u> to be\nsauntering by. Suddenly he \"notices\" Andrew.\n\n JOE\n Oh, Beckett. How's it goin'?\n\n ANDREW\n Fine.\n\nAndrew goes back to his work.\n\n JOE\n Who'd you get?\n\n ANDREW\n ", "the first prize of AIDS goes to\n Andrew Beckett and his lover\n Miguel...\" Excuse me, I'm not\n your lover. I'm your Care Partner.\n FUCK!\n\n ANDREW\n I'm not ready to die.\n\n MIGUEL\n Do you think I'm ready for it?!\n I hate this shit. I'm not a\n fucking martyr! I hate every\n goddamn part of it!\n\nMiguel", "PARRTYY!\n\n JOE\n We're friends of Beckett's.\n\n ANDREW\n It's me, you dork.\n\n LISA\n I'm Lisa Miller.\n\n ANDREW\n Glad to finally meet you. Come on in.\n\n CONTINUOUS CUT TO:\n\nJOE AND LISA FOLLOW ANDREW INTO THE APARTMENT (<u>HE LIMPS, relying\non his", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", "oit someone else.\n And since you've asked ...\n\nThey pass a silver-haired partner, KENNETH KILLCOYNE.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Solid work on the Rockwell\n situation, Andy. Top-notch.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks, Kenneth.\n (to Anthea)\n Your exam!\n\n ANTHEA\n Thank you. 98. I gotta go...\n\n ANDREW\n ", "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n ", "\n support staff, associates, partners.\n Did <u>any</u> of them know Andy was sick?\n <u>How</u> did they know? Did he tell them?\n Did they notice something was wrong\n with his appearance? None of this\n information got to the managing\n partners. We know that. Make sure\n everyone else does too... And\n Beckett: I want to know everything\n about his personal life. Did he\n frequent those pathetic bars on\n ", "\n Hey. Shouldn't you put\n that thing back on?\n\nAndrew begins fitting the mask back in place, but his hands are\nweak. Joe helps adjust the straps behind Andrew's ears.\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n I better get home. Lisa and I\n are having some friends over.\n\n ANDREW\n (muffled by the mask)\n Sure thing.\n\nJoe stands.\n\n JOE\n I'll see you, Beckett.\n\n", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "\n\nThere's a pause before Bud Beckett speaks.\n\n BUD\n Supposedly, the Lord doesn't\n give you more trouble than you\n can handle. But I'm having a\n hard time believing that these days.\n\nAndrew's construction worker brother, RANDY, wipes tears\nfrom his eyes. Clearly their father is in alot of pain.\n\n BUD (CONT.)\n Andy, the way you've faced this\n whole thing, you and Miguel, with\n ", "\n\nAndrew FREEZES -- the full nature of this situation hitting\nhome. He looks each of the PARTNERS in the eye...\n\n ANDREW\n Uh huh... Okay... I see...\n\n... at last LOOKING DIRECTLY AT Wheeler's secretary Lydia,\nwhose pen is poised above her notebook, waiting for someone\nto say something.\n\nWheeler breaks the silence.\n\n WHEELER\n Good luck, Andy.\n\nWheeler, Kenton, Killcoyne, Seid", "\n ANDREW\n (the cigars)\n New baby?\n\n JOE\n One week old.\n\n ANDREW\n Congratulations.\n\n JOE\n Little baby girl.\n\n ANDREW\n Kids are great.\n\n JOE\n Thanks, Beckett. I'm real\n excited about it.\n (glances at his watch)\n What can I do for you?\n\n ANDREW\n ", "REW\n The fate of the participants\n interests me, yes sir.\n\nWheeler, Kenton and Seidman proceed with the male ritual of\npreparing cigars to be smoked: snipping the ends with a brass\nclip, rolling them over their tongues to wet them, sliding the\ncigars in and out of their rounded mouths.\n\nAndrew, holding a cigar but NOT preparing to light it, watches\nwith a not completely concealed twinkle in his eye.\n\nWheeler leans back in his chair, swirling a brandy", "BELINDA\n Really?\n\n ANDREW\n Yes.\n\nAndrew wipes sweat from his forehead.\n\n BELINDA\n You've testified the lesions on\n your face were visible to the\n people you worked with, correct?\n\n ANDREW\n That's right.\n\n BELINDA\n And it's your contention, that\n when the partners were made\n aware of the lesions, they\n jumped", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "us with Your love,\n Your light, and Your peace,\n which passeth all understanding.\n In Jesus' name, we pray...\n\n EVERYONE\n Amen.\n\nROMANTIC MUSIC CROSSES CUT TO:\n\nBECKETTS' LIVINGROOM, SEEN THROUGH THE VIDEO CAMERA (DAY) ...\n\nA local entertainer (GUIDO PAONESSA) launches into a\nstandard, accompanied by a single guitar player, and Bud and\nS", "S WORKING ON HER COMPUTER, AT HOME, WHILE JOE PACES\naround her desk, really upset (One year-old Rayisha sits on\nthe desk playing with wooden salad spoons.) (INT./NIGHT) ...\n\n JOE\n But what was it?! What was this\n guy thinking... ?!\n\n LISA\n Don't know, Joe.\n\n JOE\n Is there some kind of expression\n I've picked up from Beckett?!\n Some", ".\n\nAndrew's hands DO NOT LEAVE the keyboard.\n\n ANDREW\n Walter.\n\nThe SECOND MAN steps forward, a silhouette becoming visible\nThis is BOB SEIDMAN. He and Kenton wear tuxedos.\n\n SEIDMAN\n Are we interrupting, Andy?\n\n ANDREW\n In a word, Bob...\n\n SEIDMAN\n Charles is right behind me.\n\nANOTHER SILHOUETTED FIGURE AP" ], [ "\n to conceal his disease from them.\n Fact. He was successful in his\n duplicity. The partners at Wyant\n Wheeler did <u>not</u> know Andrew\n Beckett had AIDS when they fired\n him...\n\nBelinda pauses in front of the plaintiff's table\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n Fact. AIDS is a tragedy...\n\nAndrew looks directly at Belinda.\n\n BELINDA (CONT.)\n F", ", to sling accusations\n at me, in full view of the entire,\n Philadelphia, judicial\n establishment. My God.\n\n KILLCOYNE\n Beckett doesn't want to go to court,\n he's hoping for a quick tasty\n settlement.\n\n SEIDMAN\n A jury might decide that Andy has a\n case.\n\n WHEELER\n Wait a minute. The man was fired for\n incompetence, not because he has\n", "\n support staff, associates, partners.\n Did <u>any</u> of them know Andy was sick?\n <u>How</u> did they know? Did he tell them?\n Did they notice something was wrong\n with his appearance? None of this\n information got to the managing\n partners. We know that. Make sure\n everyone else does too... And\n Beckett: I want to know everything\n about his personal life. Did he\n frequent those pathetic bars on\n ", "\n\n ANDREW\n In some situations.\n\n BELINDA\n Isn't it true you have spent your\n life pretending to be something\n you're not, so much so that the\n art of concealment and dishonesty\n has become second nature to you?!\n\n JOE\n Objection!\n\n BELINDA\n I'll withdraw it. Mr. Beckett?\n Were you living with Miguel\n Alvarez in ", "\n\n LAIRD\n I may have said something like\n that. But that's not how I feel at\n this moment.\n\nJoe takes on a street-tough tone:\n\n JOE\n Okay, Mr. Laird. Explain this to\n me like I'm a four year old: Did\n Andrew Beckett win your lawsuit\n for you or not?\n\n LAIRD\n We won.\n\n JOE\n Did that thrill,", "! It doesn't make\n any sense, it sounds as if we're\n talking about someone else.\n Pardon the lack of humility, but\n I've had the distinct impression\n I was kind of... one of the\n rising stars around here. And I\n feel that wasn't just my\n imagination. And I also think I\n deserve to know what's really\n going on here, Charles.\n\n KENTON\n Oh, you're right, Beckett", "you don't want to take it for\n personal reasons...\n\n JOE\n Correct. I don't.\n\nAndrew rises, thoroughly business-like.\n\n ANDREW\n Thanks for your time.\n\n JOE\n Beckett? I'm sorry about...\n what's happened to you. It's a\n fucking kick in the head.\n\n ANDREW\n (a smile)\n Don't send flowers, Joe. I'm", "INE\n Your Honor, Mr. Beckett's\n incompetence nearly sabotaged a\n 350 million dollar suit.\n\n ANDREW\n <u>I</u> was the one who was sabotaged.\n\n BELINDA CONINE\n We have complaints about Mr.\n Beckett's lack of preparation,\n his disorganization, his\n arrogant, defensive attitude...\n The list goes on.\n\n JEROME GREEN\n ", "Andy.\n But I'd have to lie to do it.\n\n ANDREW\n (very calm)\n You can save it for the jury,\n Charles. I want to hear you say,\n under oath, in front of a judge and\n a jury, I'm a bad lawyer.\n (rises)\n Gentlemen.\n (to Belinda)\n Counselor.\n\n WHEELER\n Don't do this, Andy.\n\n", "tremendously\n promising as a young attorney.\n That's why we went after him,\n that's why we hired him, and\n that's why we stuck with him,\n year after year... waiting for\n the promise to be fulfilled. But\n it never was.\n\n BELINDA\n You kept giving him another chance?\n\n WHEELER\n Of course we did. When you've\n groomed someone they way we groomed\n Andy, n", "those people who wants to\n benefit by the system, but doesn't\n want to play by the system's\n rules. To think you <u>know</u> someone,\n only to find out... you don't know\n them at all. It's heartbreaking.\n\n BELINDA\n Thank you. That's all for now,\n Your Honor.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n Mr. Miller?\n\nJoe rises. Adjusts his jacket", ". With the\n Kronos complaint, a preliminary\n injunction hearing and the\n Saunders trial all falling at the\n same time...\n\n KENTON\n Some people think you have an\n attitude problem, Beckett.\n\n ANDREW\n Really? Who thinks that, sir?\n\n WHEELER\n I do.\n\nWheeler seems very grave.\n\n ANDREW\n I had no idea there was a concern\n in that area.", "\n I love the law. I know the law.\n I excel at practicing it. It's\n the only thing I've ever wanted to do.\n\n JOE\n What do you love about it?\n\n ANDREW\n Well... many things. But I\n think the thing I love the most,\n is that every once in a while,\n not that often, but\n occasionally... you get to be\n part of justice being done.\n It's really", ",\n \"I'm sick. I might not be able\n to see this through?\"\n\n SEIDMAN\n He was doing a great job.\n\n WHEELER\n Bob. I must ask you to shut the\n fuck up. Did Andrew Beckett say\n \"I might not be able to serve our\n clients to the <u>best of my ability</u>?\"\n He said nothing. And now, Andrew\n Beckett proposes to haul me into a\n court of law", ". He's in a stage of recovery.</u>\n\nON THE OTHER LAWYERS:\n\nCharles Wheeler (seeming ironic) and Walter Kenton (he's\npissed) lead the battalion.\n\nBehind them, walk young lawyers BELINDA CONINE and JEROME\nGREEN. Belinda is white, Jerome is black.\n\n CUT TO:\n\nHUSHED VOICES (INT./DAY) ...\n\nA JUDGE'S CHAMBERS, with couches, soft", ".\n\nAndrew rubs his eyes.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n This would be a good time to\n break for the day...\n\n JOE (OS)\n (far away)\n Your Honor? May I have ten\n minutes in re-direct?\n\n JUDGE GARNETT (OS)\n (far away)\n Beckett?\n\nAndrew finds the Judge looking at him.\n\n JUD", "VE.\n\n JUDGE GARNETT\n (a moment, then)\n I'll allow it. Would you mind\n removing your shirt, Mr.\n Beckett?\n\nANGLE ON MIGUEL -- TENSE.\n\n ANDREW\n Allright.\n\nThe COURTROOM TURNS SILENT.\n\nAndrew removes his suit jacket. He's weak, so the smallest\ngesture requires effort.\n\nANGLE ON BOB SEIDMAN -- WATCHING", " JOE\n Whoa, whoa...\n (to Andrew)\n What do you expect them to say,\n you're Alan Dershowitz?\n\n KENTON\n A trial takes <u>time</u>, Beckett. Do\n you know what I'm saying?\n\n ANDREW\n I think I catch your subtle drift,\n Walter.\n\nAndrew saunters out.\n\n KENTON\n You'll be sorry, Beckett", "Joe faces Andrew, also curious to know what Joe's up to.\n\n JOE\n Your Honor, everyone in this\n courtroom is thinking about sexual\n preference, sexual orientation,\n whatever you want to call it.\n They're looking at me, and\n wondering about it...\n (looking at Andrew)\n They're looking at Mr. Beckett, and\n wondering about it. They're looking\n at Mr. Wheeler and wondering about\n it. They might even", "(CONT.)\n Beckett?\n\n ANDREW\n Charles. Okay. Miller?\n\n JOE\n What?\n\n ANDREW\n Do you... pray?\n\nJoe hesitates. They're having a personal conversation?\n\n JOE\n Yeah. Sure.\n\nJoe goes back to the notes:\n\n JOE (CONT.)\n Then we establish how Wheeler's\n boys recruited you after law\n school...\n\n " ] ]

[ "What was the law firm's excuse for firing Beckett?", "Why was Miller afraid to take Beckett's case at first?", "When did Miller decide to take Beckett's case after all?", "Why did Beckett unbutton his shirt in court?", "The jury awarded Beckett three kinds of compensation: back pay, damages for pain and suffering, and what else?", "Where was Beckett when the jury ruled in his favor?", "How did Miller's attitude toward Beckett change?", "According to the law partner's testimony, why did he think Beckett's AIDS was different from the blood transfusion patient's AIDS?", "How did the law partner who betrayed Beckett feel about him after Beckett collapsed?", "What does Beckett say the lesion on his forehead is from?", "Why does Beckett lie about the lesion on his forehead?", "Why does Beckett think the paperwork was lost? ", "Why does Joe Miller decline to be Beckett's attorney at first? ", "Why did Beckett have to unbutton his shirt while on the witness stand?", "What was the verdict of the lawsuit? ", "Why does the defense suggest that Beckett is not a victim? ", "What type of cancerous lesions did Beckett suffer from?", "Why did Miller go to the doctor to be evaluated?", "Why did Miller finally decide to take the case? ", "What disease does Beckett have?", "What form of cancer is marked by multiple tumors on the lymph nodes and skin?", "What happens to the paperwork from Beckett's case?", "Why does Becket take legal action against his job?", "Who takes Beckett's discrimination case?", "What is awarded to Beckettl?", "Does the jury rule in Beckett's favor?", "Who is Beckett's partner?", "How does Beckett's law partner feel about betraying Beckett?" ]

[ [ "That he was incompetent and mishandled paperwork.", "Lost papers" ], [ "He was afraid of catching AIDS.", "afraid that he would contract HIV" ], [ "When he saw others' discriminatory behavior toward Beckett at the law library.", "After he reviews the material Miller has gathered" ], [ "To show the court what the cancer looked like.", "To prove that his lesions were visible" ], [ "Punitive damages.", "punitive damages" ], [ "At the hospital.", "In the hospital" ], [ "When they met, Miller was afraid of Beckett's AIDS, but by the end, he was able to touch him.", "At first, he is afraid he can catch AIDs, until he speaks to his doctor." ], [ "He said that because Beckett was homosexual, he had invited the illness on himself.", "Beckett invited the disease through his homosexuality " ], [ "He regretted the betrayal.", "He is remorseful about betraying him" ], [ "A racquetball injury.", "A racquetball injury" ], [ "He does not want people to know he is gay, and has HIV/AIDS", "He is afraid of being discriminated against for having AIDS" ], [ "He thinks the firm hid the paperwork so they could fire him. ", "Beckett believes the paperwork was lost deliberately to give the Firm an excuse to fire him because he had AIDS." ], [ "He is worried he could contract HIV from Beckett.", "He is worried he will contract AIDS" ], [ "To show the lesions and prove the lesions were visible. ", "Beckett unbuttoned his shirt to prove that his lessions were visible." ], [ "The jury voted in favor of Beckett. ", "The jury finds in favor of Beckett and awards damages and back pay" ], [ "They suggested Beckett had invited the illness through homosexual acts. ", "Because he is gay" ], [ "Kaposi Sarcoma.", "Sarcoma" ], [ "He though he might have contracted HIV from casual contact with Beckett.", "he was afraid he might have contracted HIV" ], [ "Millwer saw how people mistreated Beckett at the library. ", "He is disgusted by the people at the library's behavior and looks at the material Miller has gathered." ], [ "AIDS", "AIDs" ], [ "Kaposi's Sarcoma", "kaposi's sarcoma" ], [ "The paper copy is missing and there is no copy of it on the computer.", "It is missing" ], [ "He believes he was unjustly fired from having AIDS.", "He felt he was wrongly terminated" ], [ "Joe Miller", "Joe Miller" ], [ "He collapses.", "damages and back pay" ], [ "back pay, damages for pain and suffering, punitive damages", "Yes, the jury rules in Beckett's favor." ], [ "Miguel", "miguel" ], [ "The partner will regret it for the rest of his life.", "Remorseful" ] ]

[ [ "is decreed,\nAs these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.\n\nDAUGHTER.\nOf all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!\nOf all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!\n\nPERICLES\nLike a bold champion, I assume THe lists,\nNor ask advice of any other thought\nBut faithfulness and courage.\n\n[He reads the riddle.]\n\nI am no viper, yet I feed\nOn mother's flesh which did me breed.\nI sought a husband, in which labour", "ivalry;\nThe word, 'Me pompae provexit apex.'\n\n[The Fourth Knight passes over.]\n\nSIMONIDES.\nWhat is the fourth?\n\nTHALIARD.\nA burning torch that's turned upside down;\nThe word, 'Quod me alit, me extinguit.'\n\nSIMONIDES.\nWhich shows that beauty hath his power and will,\nWhich can as well inflame as it can kill.\n\n[The Fifth Knight passes over.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nThe fifth, an hand", "Simonides and the rest.]\n\nBy many a dern and painful perch\nOf Pericles the careful search,\nBy the four opposing coigns\nWhich the world together joins,\nIs made with all due diligence\nThat horse and sail and high expense\nCan stead the quest. At last from Tyre,\nFame answering the most strange inquire,\nTo the court of King Simonides\nAre letters brought, the tenour these:\nAntiochus and his daughter dead;\nThe men of Tyrus on the head\nOf Helicanus would set on", "-fed breast\nOf this most pompous marriage-feast.\nThe cat, with eyne of burning coal,\nNow couches fore the mouse's hole;\nAnd crickets sing at the oven's mouth,\nE'er the blither for their drouth.\nHymen hath brought the bride to bed,\nWhere, by the loss of maidenhead,\nA babe is moulded. Be attent,\nAnd time that is so briefly spent\nWith your fine fancies quaintly eche:\nWhat's dumb in show I'", "environed with clouds,\nHolding out gold that's by the touchstone tried;\nThe motto thus, 'Sic spectanda fides.'\n\n[The Sixith Knight, Pericles, passes over.]\n\nSIMONIDES.\nAnd what's\nThe sixth and last, the which the knight himself\nWith such a graceful courtesy deliver'd?\n\nTHALIARD.\nHe seems to be a stranger; but his present is\nA wither'd branch, that's only green at top;\nThe motto, 'In hac spe v", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "\nWho is the second that presents himself?\n\nTHALIARD.\nA prince of Macedon, my royal father;\nAnd the device he bears upon his shield\nIs an arm'd knight that's conquer'd by a lady;\nThe motto thus, in Spanish, 'Piu por dulzura que por fuerza.'\n\n[The Third Knight passes over.]\n\nSIMONIDES.\nAnd what's the third?\n\nTHALIARD.\nThe third of Antioch;\nAnd his device, a wreath of ch", "\nI found that kindness in a father:\nHe's father, son, and husband mild;\nI mother, wife, and yet his child.\nHow they may be, and yet in two,\nAs you will live, resolve it you.\nSharp physic is the last: but, O you powers\nThat give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts,\nWhy cloud they not their sights perpetually,\nIf this be true, which makes me pale to read it?\nFair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,\n\n[Takes hold of the", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "'d to thy grave, but straight\nMust cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;\nWhere, for a monument upon thy bones,\nAnd e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whale\nAnd humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,\nLying with simple shells. O Lychorida.\nBid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,\nMy casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander\nBring me the satin coffer: lay the babe\nUpon", ".\nWhy would she have me kill'd?\nNow, as I can remember, by my troth,\nI never did her hurt in all my life:\nI never spoke bad word, nor did ill turn\nTo any living creature: believe me, la,\nI never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:\nI trod upon a worm against my will,\nBut I wept for it. How have I offended,\nWherein my death might yield her any profit,\nOr my life imply her any danger?\n\nLEONINE.\nMy commission\nIs", "through which secret art,\nBy turning o'er authorities, I have,\nTogether with my practice, made familiar\nTo me and to my aid the blest infusions\nThat dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;\nAnd I can speak of the disturbances\nThat nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me\nA more content in course of true delight\nThan to be thirsty after tottering honour,\nOr tie my treasure up in silken bags,\nTo please the fool and death.\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN.\nYour ", "they ne'er come but I look to be washed.\nMaster, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones: I\ncan compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale;\na' plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at\nlast devours them all at a mouthful. such whales have I heard\non o' the land, who never leave gaping till they they've\nsw", "allowed the whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and all.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA pretty moral.\n\nTHIRD FISHERMAN.\nBut, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have been that day\nin the belfry.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nWhy, man?\n\nTHIRD FISHERMAN.\nBecause he should have swallowed me too; and when I had been in\nhis belly, I would have kept such a jangling of the bells, that\nhe", "is so, my lord.\n\nCERIMON.\nHow close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed!\nDid the sea cast it up?\n\nFIRST SERVANT.\nI never saw so huge a billow, sir,\nAs toss'd it upon shore.\n\nCERIMON.\nWrench it open;\nSoft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN.\nA delicate odour.\n\nCERIMON.\nAs ever hit my nostril. So up with it.\nO", "about you, should at these early hours\nShake off the golden slumber of repose.\n'Tis most strange,\nNature should be so conversant with pain.\nBeing thereto not compell'd.\n\nCERIMON.\nI hold it ever,\nVirtue and cunning were endowments greater\nThan nobleness and riches: careless heirs\nMay the two latter darken and expend;\nBut immortality attends the former,\nMaking a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever\nHave studied physic,", "\nBAWD.\nWe shall have him here to-morrow: with his best ruff on.\n\nBOULT.\nTo-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the French knight\nthat cowers i' the hams?\n\nBAWD.\nWho, Monsieur Veroles?\n\nBOULT.\nAy, he: he offered to cut a caper at the proclamation; but he\nmade a groan at it, and swore he would see her to-morrow.\n\nBAWD.\nWell. well; as", ", master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away\nbefore us even now.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nAlas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries\nthey made to us to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce\nhelp ourselves.\n\nTHIRD FISHERMAN.\nNay, master, said not I as much when I saw the porpus how he\nbounced and tumbled? they say they're half fish, half flesh:\na plague on them,", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence" ], [ "Messenger.]\n\nLet your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.\n\nMESSENGER.\nMy lord, prlnce Pericles is fled.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nAs thou\nWilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot\nFrom a well-experienced archer hits the mark\nHis eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return\nUnless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nIf I can get him within my pistol's length,\n", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nTo bear with patience\nSuch griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,\nThat minister'st a potion unto me\nThat thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.\nAttend me, then: I went to Antioch,\nAnd there as thou know'st, against the face of death,\nI sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,\nFrom whence an issue I might propagate,\nAre arms to princes, and bring", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", ", I 'II give some light unto you.\nBeing at Antioch --\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWhat from Antioch?\n\nHELICANUS.\nRoyal Antiochus -- on what cause I know not\nTook some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:\nAnd doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,\nTo show his sorrow, he 'ld correct himself;\nSo puts himself unto the shipman's toil,\nWith whom each minute threatens life", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "\n[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords of Tyre.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nYou shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,\nFurther to question me of your king's departure:\nHis seal'd commission, left in trust with me,\nDoth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nHow! the king gone!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIf further yet you will be satisfied,\nWhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves,\nHe would depart", "since my landing I have understood\nYour lord has betook himself to unknown travels,\nMy message must return from whence it came.\n\nHELICANUS.\nWe have no reason to desire it,\nCommended to our master, not to us:\nYet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,\nAs friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE IV. Tarsus. A room in the Governor's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon, the governor of Tarsus, with D", "\nBut should he wrong my liberties in my absence?\n\nHELCANUS.\nWe'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,\nFrom whence we had our being and our birth.\n\nPERICLES.\nTyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus\nIntend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;\nAnd by whose letters I'll dispose myself.\nThe care I had and have of subjects' good\nOn thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.\nI'll take thy", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "-enter Antiochus.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nHe gath found the meaning, for which we mean\nTo have his head.\nHe must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,\nNor tell the world Antiochus doth sin\nIn such a loathed manner;\nAnd therefore instantly this prince must die;\nFor by his fall my honour must keep high.\nWho attends us there?\n\n[Enter Thaliard.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nDoth your highness call?\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nTh", "\nTo knit in her their best perfections.\n\n[Music. Enter the Daughter of Antiochus.]\n\nPERICLES\nSee where she comes, apparell'd like the spring,\nGraces her subjects, and her thoughts the king\nOf every virtue gives renown to men!\nHer face the book of praises, where is read\nNothing but curious pleasures, as from thence\nSorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath\nCould never be her mild companion.\nYou gods that made me man, and sway in love,\nThat have inflamed", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain" ], [ "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "\n[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords of Tyre.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nYou shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,\nFurther to question me of your king's departure:\nHis seal'd commission, left in trust with me,\nDoth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nHow! the king gone!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIf further yet you will be satisfied,\nWhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves,\nHe would depart", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "since my landing I have understood\nYour lord has betook himself to unknown travels,\nMy message must return from whence it came.\n\nHELICANUS.\nWe have no reason to desire it,\nCommended to our master, not to us:\nYet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,\nAs friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE IV. Tarsus. A room in the Governor's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon, the governor of Tarsus, with D", "\nBut should he wrong my liberties in my absence?\n\nHELCANUS.\nWe'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,\nFrom whence we had our being and our birth.\n\nPERICLES.\nTyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus\nIntend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;\nAnd by whose letters I'll dispose myself.\nThe care I had and have of subjects' good\nOn thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.\nI'll take thy", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "ours, sir,\nWe have given order to be next our own.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am at your grace's pleasure.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nPrinces, it is too late to talk of love;\nAnd that's the mark I know you level at:\nTherefore each one betake him to his rest;\nTo-morrow all for speeding do their best.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE IV. Tyre. A room in the Govenor's house.\n\n[Enter Helicanus", "from whence\nLysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,\nHis banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;\nAnd to him in his barge with fervour hies.\nIn your supposing once more put your sight\nOf heavy Pericles; think this his bark:\nWhere what is done in action, more, if might,\nShall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. On board Pericles' ship, off Mytilene. A close pavilion\n", "st thou reach it?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBy break of day, if the wind cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, make for Tarsus!\nThere will I visit Cleon, for the babe\nCannot hold out to Tyrus there I'll leave it\nAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:\nI'll bring the body presently.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon, with", "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n", "great and high estate.\nIs left to govern. Bear you it in mind,\nOld Helicanus goes along behind\nWell-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought\nThis king to Tarsus, -- think his pilot thought;\nSo with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on, --\nTo fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.\nLike motes and shadows see them move awhile;\nYour ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.\n\n[Dumb Show.]\n\n[Enter Pericles, at one door, with all his train; Cle", "aps in Tyre:\nHow Thaliard came full bent with sin\nAnd had intent to murder him;\nAnd that in Tarsus was not best\nLonger for him to make his rest.\nHe, doing so, put forth to seas,\nWhere when men been, there's seldom ease;\nFor now the wind begins to blow;\nThunder above and deeps below\nMake such unquiet, that the ship\nShould house him safe is wreck'd and split;\nAnd he, good prince, having all lost,\nBy waves from coast to coast is tost:", "stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;\nHere many sink, yet those which see them fall\nHave scarce strength left to give them burial.\nIs not this true?\n\nDIONYZA.\nOur cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.\n\nCLEON.\nO, let those cities that of plenty's cup\nAnd her prosperities so largely taste,\nWith their superflous riots, hear these tears!\nThe misery of Tarsus may be theirs.\n\n[Enter a Lord.]\n\nLORD.\nWhere's the lord", "et my good will is great, though the gift small.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nACT IV.\n\n[Enter Gower.]\n\nGOWER.\nImagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,\nWelcomed and settled to his own desire.\nHis woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,\nUnto Diana there a votaress.\nNow to Marina bend your mind,\nWhom our fast-growing scene must find\nAt Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd\nIn music, letters; who hath gain'd\nOf", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO," ], [ "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", "shown you all was found with her;\nHow she came placed here in the temple;\nNo needful thing omitted.\n\nPERICLES.\nPure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I\nWill offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,\nThis prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,\nShall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,\nThis ornament\nMakes me look dismal will I clip to form;\nAnd what this fourteen years no razor touch'd\nTo grace thy marriage-day, I'", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame\nYour will to mine, -- and you, sir, hear you,\nEither be ruled by me, or I will make you --\nMan and wife:\nNay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too:\nAnd being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;\nAnd for a further grief, -- God give you joy! --\nWhat, are you both pleased?\n\nTHAISA.\nYes, if you love me, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nEven as my life my blood that fost", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "me.\nYou are like something that -- What country-woman?\nHere of these shores?\n\nMARINA.\nNo, nor of any shores:\nYet I was mortally brought forth, and am\nNo other than I appear.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.\nMy dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one\nMy daughter might have been: my queen's square brows;\nHer stature to an inch; as wand-like straight;\nAs silver-voiced; her eyes as", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "his company.\nThat he can hither come so soon,\nIs by your fancy's thankful doom.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near\nthe altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side;\nCerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.\n\n[Enter Pericles, with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina,\nand a Lady.]\n\nPERICLES.\nHail, Dian! to", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", "rightly say. But since King Pericles,\nMy wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,\nA vestal livery will I take me to,\nAnd never more have joy.\n\nCERIMON.\nMadam, if this you purpose as ye speak,\nDiana's temple is not distant far,\nWhere you may abide till your date expire.\nMoreover, if you please, a niece of mine\nShall there attend you.\n\nTHAISA.\nMy recompense is thanks, that's all;\nY", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "but answer to my just belief,\nI'll well remember you.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\n[Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision.]\n\nDIANA.\nMy temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,\nAnd do upon mine altar sacrifice.\nThere, when my maiden priests are met together,\nBefore the people all,\nReveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:\nTo mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call\nAnd give them repetition to the life.", "ll beautify.\n\nTHAISA.\nLord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,\nMy father's dead.\n\nPERICLES.\nHeavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,\nWe'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves\nWill in that kingdom spend our following days:\nOur son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.\nLord Cerimon, we do our longing stay\nTo hear the rest untold: sir, lead's the way.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n[", "\n\nPERICLES.\nHum, ha!\n\nMARINA.\nI am a maid,\nMy lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,\nBut have been gazed on like a cornet: she speaks,\nMy lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief\nMight equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.\nThough wayward fortune did malign my state,\nMy derivation was from ancestors\nWho stood equivalent with mighty kings:\nBut time hath rooted out my parentage,\nAnd to the world and", "\nFIRST SAILOR.\nPardon us, sir; with us at sea it has been still observed; and we\nare strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must\noverboard straight.\n\nPERICLES.\nAs you think meet. Most wretched queen!\n\nLYCHORIDA.\nHere she lies, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nA terrible childben hast thou had, my dear;\nNo light, no fire: the unfriendly elements\nForgot thee utterly; nor have I time\nTo give thee hallow", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n" ], [ ",\nBesides the gods, for this great miracle.\n\nTHAISA.\nLord Cerimon, my lord; this man,\nThrough whom the gods have shown their power; that can\nFrom first to last resolve you.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend sir,\nThe gods can have no mortal officer\nMore like a god than you. Will you deliver\nHow this dead queen re-lives?\n\nCERIMON.\nI will, my lord\nBeseech you, first go with me to my house,\nWhere shall be", "rightly say. But since King Pericles,\nMy wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,\nA vestal livery will I take me to,\nAnd never more have joy.\n\nCERIMON.\nMadam, if this you purpose as ye speak,\nDiana's temple is not distant far,\nWhere you may abide till your date expire.\nMoreover, if you please, a niece of mine\nShall there attend you.\n\nTHAISA.\nMy recompense is thanks, that's all;\nY", "She is alive; behold,\nHer eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels\nWhich Pericles hath lost,\nBegin to part their fringes of bright gold;\nThe diamonds of a most praised water\nDo appear, to make the world twice rich.\nLive,\nAnd make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,\nRare as you seem to be.\n\n[She moves.]\n\nTHAISA.\nO dear Diana,\nWhere am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", ". Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.]\n\nCERIMON.\nMadam, this letter, and some certain jewels,\nLay with you in your coffer: which are now\nAt your command. Know you the character?\n\nTHAISA.\nIt is my lord's.\nThat I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,\nEven on my eaning time; but whether there\nDeliver'd, by the holy gods,\nI cannot", "his company.\nThat he can hither come so soon,\nIs by your fancy's thankful doom.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near\nthe altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side;\nCerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.\n\n[Enter Pericles, with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina,\nand a Lady.]\n\nPERICLES.\nHail, Dian! to", "but answer to my just belief,\nI'll well remember you.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\n[Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision.]\n\nDIANA.\nMy temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,\nAnd do upon mine altar sacrifice.\nThere, when my maiden priests are met together,\nBefore the people all,\nReveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:\nTo mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call\nAnd give them repetition to the life.", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "you most potent gods! what's here? a corse!\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nMost strange!\n\nCERIMON.\nShrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured\nWith full bags of spices! A passport too!\nApollo, perfect me in the characters!\n\n[Reads from a scroll.]\n\n 'Here I give to understand,\n If e'er this coffin drive a-land,\n I, King Pericles, have lost\n This queen, worth all our m", "shown you all was found with her;\nHow she came placed here in the temple;\nNo needful thing omitted.\n\nPERICLES.\nPure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I\nWill offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,\nThis prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,\nShall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,\nThis ornament\nMakes me look dismal will I clip to form;\nAnd what this fourteen years no razor touch'd\nTo grace thy marriage-day, I'", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "\nBecoming well thy fact: what canst thou say\nWhen noble Pericles shall demand his child?\n\nDIONYZA.\nThat she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,\nTo foster it, nor ever to preserve.\nShe died at night; I'11 say so. Who can cross it?\nUnless you play the pious innocent,\nAnd for an honest attribute cry out\n'She died by foul play.'\n\nCLEON.\nO, go to. Well, well,\nOf all the faults beneath the heavens, the", "Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame\nYour will to mine, -- and you, sir, hear you,\nEither be ruled by me, or I will make you --\nMan and wife:\nNay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too:\nAnd being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;\nAnd for a further grief, -- God give you joy! --\nWhat, are you both pleased?\n\nTHAISA.\nYes, if you love me, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nEven as my life my blood that fost", "ll beautify.\n\nTHAISA.\nLord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,\nMy father's dead.\n\nPERICLES.\nHeavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,\nWe'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves\nWill in that kingdom spend our following days:\nOur son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.\nLord Cerimon, we do our longing stay\nTo hear the rest untold: sir, lead's the way.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n[", "undane cost.\n Who her, give her burying;\n She was the daughter of a king:\n Besides this treasure for a fee,\n The gods requite his charity!'\nIf thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart\nThat even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN.\nMost likely, sir.\n\nCERIMON.\nNay, certainly to-night;\nFor look how fresh she looks! They were too rough\nThat threw her in the sea. Make a fire within", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "IDES.\nHere, with a cup that's stored unto the brim, --\nAs you do love, fill to your mistress' lips, --\nWe drink this health to you.\n\nKNIGHTS.\nWe thank your grace.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nYet pause awhile:\nYon knight doth sit too melancholy,\nAs if the entertainment in our court\nHad not a show might countervail his worth.\nNote it not you, Thaisa?\n\nTHAISA.\nWhat is it\nTo me" ], [ ".\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I pray you;\nI'll not bereave you of your servant.\n\nDIONYZA.\nCome, come;\nI love the king your father, and yourself,\nWith more than foreign heart. We every day\nExpect him here: when he shall come and find\nOur paragon to all reports thus blasted,\nHe will repent the breadth of his great voyage;\nBlame both my lord and me, that we have taken\nNo care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,\nWalk, and be", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;\nWhich never could I so convey,\nUnless your thoughts went on my way.\nDionyza does appear,\nWith Leonine, a murderer.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nScene I. Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.\n\n[Enter Dionyza and Leonine.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nThy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do 't:\n'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.\nThou canst", "\n\nCLEON.\nHeavens forgive it!\n\nDIONYZA.\nAnd as for Pericles,\nWhat should he say? We wept after her hearse,\nAnd yet we mourn: her monument\nIs almost finish'd, and her epitaphs\nIn glittering golden characters express\nA general praise to her, and care in us\nAt whose expense 'tis done.\n\nCLEON.\nThou art like the harpy,\nWhich, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,\nSeize with thine", "Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.\nDiana, aid my purpose!\n\nBAWD.\nWhat have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleon's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nWhy, are you foolish? Can it be undone?\n\nCLEON.\nO, Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter\nThe sun", "not to reason of the deed, but do it.\n\nMARINA.\nYou will not do 't for all the world, I hope.\nYou are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow\nYou have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,\nWhen you caught hurt in parting two that fought:\nGood sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:\nYour lady seeks my life; come you between,\nAnd save poor me, the weaker.\n\nLEONINE.\nI am sworn,\nAnd will dispatch.", "leave you, my sweet lady, for a while:\nPray, walk softly, do not heat your blood:\nWhat! I must have a care of you.\n\nMARINA.\nMy thanks, sweet madam.\n\n[Exit Dionyza.]\n\nIs this wind westerly that blows?\n\nLEONINE.\nSouth-west.\n\nMARINA.\nWhen I was born, the wind was north.\n\nLEONINE.\nWas 't so?\n\nMARINA.\nMy father, as nurse said, did", "education all the grace,\nWhich makes her both the heart and place\nOf general wonder. But, alack,\nThat monster envy, oft the wrack\nOf earned praise, Marina's life\nSeeks to take off by treason's knife.\nAnd in this kind hath our Cleon\nOne daughter, and a wench full grown,\nEven ripe for marriage-rite; this maid\nHight Philoten: and it is said\nFor certain in our story, she\nWould ever with Marina be:\nBe't when she weaved the sleided silk\n", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "debts,\nAnd not as given. This so darks\nIn Philoten all graceful marks,\nThat Cleon's wife, with envy rare,\nA present murderer does prepare\nFor good Marina, that her daughter\nMight stand peerless by this slaughter.\nThe sooner her vile thoughts to stead,\nLychorida, our nurse, is dead:\nAnd cursed Dionyza hath\nThe pregnant instrument of wrath\nPrest for this blow. The unborn event\nI do commend to your content:\nOnly I carry winged time\n", "\nBecoming well thy fact: what canst thou say\nWhen noble Pericles shall demand his child?\n\nDIONYZA.\nThat she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,\nTo foster it, nor ever to preserve.\nShe died at night; I'11 say so. Who can cross it?\nUnless you play the pious innocent,\nAnd for an honest attribute cry out\n'She died by foul play.'\n\nCLEON.\nO, go to. Well, well,\nOf all the faults beneath the heavens, the", "and moon ne'er look'd upon!\n\nDIONYZA.\nI think\nYou'll turn a child agan.\n\nCLEON.\nWere I chief lord of all this spacious world,\nI'ld give it to undo the deed. 0 lady,\nMuch less in blood than virtue, yet a princess\nTo equal any single crown o' the earth\nI' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!\nWhom thou hast poison'd too:\nIf thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "\n\n[He seizes her.]\n\n[Enter Pirates.]\n\nFIRST PIRATE.\nHold, villain!\n\n[Leonine runs away.]\n\nSECOND PIRATE.\nA prize! a prize!\n\nTHIRD PIRATE.\nHalf-part, mates, half-part,\nComes, let's have her aboard suddenly.\n\n[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.]\n\n[Re-enter Leonine.]\n\nLEONINE.\nThese roguing thieves serve the great pirate Val", ", but you, how she came dead,\nNor none can know, Leonine being gone.\nShe did distain my child, and stood between\nHer and her fortunes: none would look on her,\nBut cast their gazes on Marina's face;\nWhilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin\nNot worth the time of day. It pierced me through;\nAnd though you call my course unnatural,\nYou not your child well loving, yet I find\nIt greets me as an enterprise of kindness\nPerform'd to your sole daughter.", "des;\nAnd they hav seized Marina. Let her go:\nThre's no hope she will return. I'll swear she's dead\nAnd thrown into the sea. But I'll see further:\nPerhaps they will but please themselves upon her,\nNot carry her aboard. If she remain,\nWhom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nScene II. Mytilene. A room in a brothel.\n\n[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and Boult.]\n\nPANDAR", " Thou art resolved?\n\nLEONINE.\nI am resolved.\n\n[Enter Marina, with a basket of flowers.]\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I will rob Tellus of her weed\nTo strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,\nThe purple violets, and marigolds,\nShall as a carpet hang upon thy grave,\nWhile summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,\nBorn in a tempest, when my mother died,\nThis world to me is like a lasting storm,\nWhir", "ere best I did give o'er.\n -\n\nPERICLES.\nI will believe you by the syllable\nOf what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:\nHow came you in these parts? where were you bred?\n\nMARINA.\nThe king my father did in Tarsus leave me;\nTill cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,\nDid seek to murder me: and having woo'd\nA villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't,\nA crew of pirates came and rescued me", "\nOn whom foul death hath made this slaughter;\nMarina was she call'd; and at her birth,\nThetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:\nTherefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,\nHath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:\nWherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,\nMake raging battery upon shores of flint.'\n\nNo visor does become black villany\nSo well as soft and tender flattery.\n" ], [ "\n\n[He seizes her.]\n\n[Enter Pirates.]\n\nFIRST PIRATE.\nHold, villain!\n\n[Leonine runs away.]\n\nSECOND PIRATE.\nA prize! a prize!\n\nTHIRD PIRATE.\nHalf-part, mates, half-part,\nComes, let's have her aboard suddenly.\n\n[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.]\n\n[Re-enter Leonine.]\n\nLEONINE.\nThese roguing thieves serve the great pirate Val", "worse. Neither is\nour profession any trade; it's no calling. But here comes Boult.\n\n[Re-enter Boult, with the Pirates and Marina.]\n\nBOULT\n[To Marina.]\nCome your ways. My masters, you say she's a virgin?\n\nFIRST PIRATE.\nO, sir, we doubt it not.\n\nBOULT.\nMaster, I have gone through for this piece, you see: if you like\nher, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.\n\nBAWD.\nBou", "Exeunt Pandar and Pirates.]\n\nBAWD.\nBoult, take you the marks of her, the colour of her hair,\ncomplexion, height, age, with warrant of her virginity; and cry\n'He that will give most shall have her first.' Such a maidenhead\nwere no cheap thing, if men were as they have been. Get this\ndone as I command you.\n\nBOULT.\nPerformance shall follow.\n\n[Exit.\n\nMARINA.\nAlack that Leonine was so slack, so slow!\n", ".\n\nMARINA.\nWhither would you have me?\n\nBOULT.\nI must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common hangman\nshall execute it. Come your ways. We'll have no more\ngentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.\n\n[Re-enter Bawd.]\n\nBAWD.\nHow now! what's the matter?\n\nBOULT.\nWorse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy words to the\nLord Lysimachus.\n\nBAWD", "lt.]\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nNow, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade?\n\nMARINA.\nWhat trade, sir?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, I cannot name't but I shall offend.\n\nMARINA.\nI cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nHow long have you been of this profession?\n\nMARINA.\nE'er since I can remember?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nDid you", "\n\nBOULT.\nWell, I will see what I can do for thee: if I can place thee, I\nwill.\n\nMARINA.\nBut amongst honest women.\n\nBOULT.\n'Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them. But since my\nmaster and mistress have bought you, there's no going but by\ntheir consent: therefore I will make them acquainted with your\npurpose, and I doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough.\nome, I'll do for thee what I can;", "des;\nAnd they hav seized Marina. Let her go:\nThre's no hope she will return. I'll swear she's dead\nAnd thrown into the sea. But I'll see further:\nPerhaps they will but please themselves upon her,\nNot carry her aboard. If she remain,\nWhom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nScene II. Mytilene. A room in a brothel.\n\n[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and Boult.]\n\nPANDAR", ".\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I pray you;\nI'll not bereave you of your servant.\n\nDIONYZA.\nCome, come;\nI love the king your father, and yourself,\nWith more than foreign heart. We every day\nExpect him here: when he shall come and find\nOur paragon to all reports thus blasted,\nHe will repent the breadth of his great voyage;\nBlame both my lord and me, that we have taken\nNo care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,\nWalk, and be", "go to't so young? Were you a gamester at five or at\nseven?\n\nMARINA.\nEarlier, too, sir, if now I be one.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a creature of\nsale.\n\nMARINA.\nDo you know this house to be a place of such resort, and will\ncome into 't? I hear say you are of honourable parts, and are\nthe governor of this place.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy,", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "do makes pity in your lovers: seldom but that\npity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.\n\nMARINA.\nI understand you not.\n\nBOULT.\nO, take her home, mistress, take her home: these blushes of hers\nmust be quenched with some present practice.\n\nBAWD.\nThou sayest true, i' faith so they must; for your bride goes to\nthat with shame which is her way to go with warrant.\n\nBOULT.\n'Faith, some do and some", "jewel-like\nAnd cased as richly; in pace another Juno;\nWho starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry,\nThe more she gives them speech. Where do you live?\n\nMARINA.\nWhere I am but a stranger: from the deck\nYou may discern the place.\n\nPERICLES.\nWhere were you bred?\nAnd how achieved you these endowments, which\nYou make more rich to owe?\n\nMARINA.\nIf I should tell my history, it would seem\nLike lies disdain'", "He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates,\nNot enough barbarous, had not o'erboard thrown me\nFor to seek my mother!\n\nBARD.\nWhy lament you, pretty one?\n\nMARINA.\nThat I am pretty.\n\nBAWD.\nCome, the gods have done their part in you.\n\nMARINA.\nI accuse them not.\n\nBAWD.\nYou are light into my hands, where you are like to live.\n\nMARINA.\nThe more my fault\nTo", "s gold for thee.\nIf that thy master would gain by me,\nProclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,\nWith other virtues, which I'll keep from boast;\nAnd I will undertake all these to teach.\nI doubt not but this populous city will\nYield many scholars.\n\nBOULT.\nBut can you teach all this you speak of?\n\nMARINA.\nProve that I cannot, take me home again,\nAnd prostitute me to the basest groom\nThat doth frequent your house.", "scape his hands where I was like to die.\n\nBAWD.\nAy, and you shall live in pleasure.\n\nMARINA.\nNo.\n\nBAWD.\nYes, indeed shall you, and taste gentlemen of all fashions: you\nshall fare well; you shall have the difference of all complexions.\nWhat! do you stop your ears?\n\nMARINA.\nAre you a woman?\n\nBAWD.\nWhat would you have me be, an I be not a woman?\n\nMARINA.\nAn honest woman", "\n[Exit Boult.]\n\nBAWD.\nHere comes that which grows to the stalk; never plucked yet, I\ncan assure you.\n\n[Re-enter Boult with Marina.]\n\nIs she not a fair creature?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\n'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea. Well, there's\nfor you: leave us.\n\nBAWD.\nI beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and I'll have done\npresently.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\n", "hath your principal made known unto you who I am?\n\nMARINA.\nWho is my principal?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and\niniquity. O, you have heard something of my power, and so stand\naloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one,\nmy authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee.\nCome, bring me to some private place: come, come.\n\nMARINA", "education all the grace,\nWhich makes her both the heart and place\nOf general wonder. But, alack,\nThat monster envy, oft the wrack\nOf earned praise, Marina's life\nSeeks to take off by treason's knife.\nAnd in this kind hath our Cleon\nOne daughter, and a wench full grown,\nEven ripe for marriage-rite; this maid\nHight Philoten: and it is said\nFor certain in our story, she\nWould ever with Marina be:\nBe't when she weaved the sleided silk\n", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "ere best I did give o'er.\n -\n\nPERICLES.\nI will believe you by the syllable\nOf what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:\nHow came you in these parts? where were you bred?\n\nMARINA.\nThe king my father did in Tarsus leave me;\nTill cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,\nDid seek to murder me: and having woo'd\nA villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't,\nA crew of pirates came and rescued me" ], [ ".\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I pray you;\nI'll not bereave you of your servant.\n\nDIONYZA.\nCome, come;\nI love the king your father, and yourself,\nWith more than foreign heart. We every day\nExpect him here: when he shall come and find\nOur paragon to all reports thus blasted,\nHe will repent the breadth of his great voyage;\nBlame both my lord and me, that we have taken\nNo care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,\nWalk, and be", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did", "world to laugh at me.\n\nMARINA.\nPatience, good sir,\nOr here I'll cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nNay, I'll be patient.\nThou little know'st how thou dost startle me,\nTo call thyself Marina.\n\nMARINA.\nThe name\nWas given me by one that had some power,\nMy father, and a king.\n\nPERICLES.\nHow! a king's daughter?\nAnd call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nYou", "more\nLet me entreat to know at large the cause\nOf your king's sorrow.\n\nHELICANUS.\nSit, sir, I will recount it to you:\nBut, see, I am prevented.\n\n[Re-enter, from the barge, Lord, with Marina, and a young Lady.]\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nO, here is\nThe lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!\nIs't not a goodly presence?\n\nHELICANUS.\nShe's a gallant lady.\n\nLY", "his recovery,\nProvided\nThat none but I and my companion maid\nBe suffer'd to come near him.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nCome, let us leave her,\nAnd the gods make her prosperous!\n\n[Marina sings.]\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nMark'd he your music?\n\nMARINA.\nNo, nor look'd on us,\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSee, she will speak to him.\n\nMARINA.\nHail, sir! my lord, lend ear.", "\n\n[He seizes her.]\n\n[Enter Pirates.]\n\nFIRST PIRATE.\nHold, villain!\n\n[Leonine runs away.]\n\nSECOND PIRATE.\nA prize! a prize!\n\nTHIRD PIRATE.\nHalf-part, mates, half-part,\nComes, let's have her aboard suddenly.\n\n[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.]\n\n[Re-enter Leonine.]\n\nLEONINE.\nThese roguing thieves serve the great pirate Val", "Did come to see you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI embrace you.\nGive me my robes. I am wild in my beholding.\nO heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what music?\nTell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him\nO'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,\nHow sure you are my daughter. But, what music?\n\nHELICANUS.\nMy lord, I hear none.\n\nPERICLES.\nNone!\nThe music of the spheres! List, my Marina.\n\n", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "the minute I was born,\nAs my good nurse Lychorida hath oft\nDeliver'd weeping.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, stop there a little!\n\n[Aside.]\n\nThis is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep\nDid mock sad fools withal: this cannot be:\nMy daughter's buried. Well: where were: you bred?\nI'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,\nAnd never interrupt you.\n\nMARINA.\nYou scorn: believe me, 'tw", "hath your principal made known unto you who I am?\n\nMARINA.\nWho is my principal?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and\niniquity. O, you have heard something of my power, and so stand\naloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one,\nmy authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee.\nCome, bring me to some private place: come, come.\n\nMARINA", "\n\nPERICLES.\nHum, ha!\n\nMARINA.\nI am a maid,\nMy lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,\nBut have been gazed on like a cornet: she speaks,\nMy lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief\nMight equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.\nThough wayward fortune did malign my state,\nMy derivation was from ancestors\nWho stood equivalent with mighty kings:\nBut time hath rooted out my parentage,\nAnd to the world and", "seems\nYou have been noble towards her.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir, lend me your arm.\n\nPERICLES.\nCome, my Marina.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Enter Gower, before the temple of Diana at Ephesus.\n\nGOWER.\nNow our sands are almost run;\nMore a little, and then dumb.\nThis, my last boon, give me,\nFor such kindness must relieve me,\nThat you aptly will suppose\nWhat pageantry, what feats, what shows", "endurance, thou art a man, and I\nHave suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look\nLike Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling\nExtremity out of act. What were thy friends?\nHow lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin?\nRecount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me.\n\nMARINA.\nMy name is Marina.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, I am mock'd,\nAnd thou by some incensed god sent hither\nTo make the", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "me.\nYou are like something that -- What country-woman?\nHere of these shores?\n\nMARINA.\nNo, nor of any shores:\nYet I was mortally brought forth, and am\nNo other than I appear.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.\nMy dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one\nMy daughter might have been: my queen's square brows;\nHer stature to an inch; as wand-like straight;\nAs silver-voiced; her eyes as", ", but you, how she came dead,\nNor none can know, Leonine being gone.\nShe did distain my child, and stood between\nHer and her fortunes: none would look on her,\nBut cast their gazes on Marina's face;\nWhilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin\nNot worth the time of day. It pierced me through;\nAnd though you call my course unnatural,\nYou not your child well loving, yet I find\nIt greets me as an enterprise of kindness\nPerform'd to your sole daughter.", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms." ], [ "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "She is alive; behold,\nHer eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels\nWhich Pericles hath lost,\nBegin to part their fringes of bright gold;\nThe diamonds of a most praised water\nDo appear, to make the world twice rich.\nLive,\nAnd make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,\nRare as you seem to be.\n\n[She moves.]\n\nTHAISA.\nO dear Diana,\nWhere am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN", "his company.\nThat he can hither come so soon,\nIs by your fancy's thankful doom.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near\nthe altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side;\nCerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.\n\n[Enter Pericles, with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina,\nand a Lady.]\n\nPERICLES.\nHail, Dian! to", "shown you all was found with her;\nHow she came placed here in the temple;\nNo needful thing omitted.\n\nPERICLES.\nPure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I\nWill offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,\nThis prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,\nShall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,\nThis ornament\nMakes me look dismal will I clip to form;\nAnd what this fourteen years no razor touch'd\nTo grace thy marriage-day, I'", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", ",\nBesides the gods, for this great miracle.\n\nTHAISA.\nLord Cerimon, my lord; this man,\nThrough whom the gods have shown their power; that can\nFrom first to last resolve you.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend sir,\nThe gods can have no mortal officer\nMore like a god than you. Will you deliver\nHow this dead queen re-lives?\n\nCERIMON.\nI will, my lord\nBeseech you, first go with me to my house,\nWhere shall be", "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other", "ll beautify.\n\nTHAISA.\nLord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,\nMy father's dead.\n\nPERICLES.\nHeavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,\nWe'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves\nWill in that kingdom spend our following days:\nOur son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.\nLord Cerimon, we do our longing stay\nTo hear the rest untold: sir, lead's the way.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n[", "st thou reach it?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBy break of day, if the wind cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, make for Tarsus!\nThere will I visit Cleon, for the babe\nCannot hold out to Tyrus there I'll leave it\nAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:\nI'll bring the body presently.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon, with", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "but answer to my just belief,\nI'll well remember you.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\n[Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision.]\n\nDIANA.\nMy temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,\nAnd do upon mine altar sacrifice.\nThere, when my maiden priests are met together,\nBefore the people all,\nReveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:\nTo mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call\nAnd give them repetition to the life.", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n", "ll plain with speech.\n\n[Dumb Show.]\n\n[Enter, Pericles and Simonides, at one door, with Attendants; a\nMessenger meets them, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter:\nPericles shows it Simonides; the Lords kneel to him. Then enter\nThaisa with child, with Lychorida a nurse. The King shows her\nthe letter; she rejoices: she and Pericles take leave of her\nfather, and depart, with Lychorida and their Attendants.\nThen exeunt" ], [ ":\nThe lady shrieks, and well-a-near\nDoes fall in travail with her fear:\nAnd what ensues in this fell storm\nShall for itself itself perform.\nI nill relate, action may\nConveniently the rest convey;\nWhich might not what by me is told.\nIn your imagination hold\nThis stage the ship, upon whose deck\nThe sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I.\n\n[Enter Pericles, on shipboard.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThou god of", "wife to Cleon.\nTHAISA, daughter to Simonides.\nMARINA, daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.\nLYCHORIDA, nurse to Marina.\nA Bawd.\nLords, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors, Pirates, Fishermen, and\nMessengers.\nDIANA.\nGOWER, as Chorus.\n\n\nSCENE: Dispersedly in various countries.\n\nACT I.\n\n[Enter GOWER.]\n\n[Before the palace of Antioch.]\n\n", "Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;\nWhich never could I so convey,\nUnless your thoughts went on my way.\nDionyza does appear,\nWith Leonine, a murderer.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nScene I. Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.\n\n[Enter Dionyza and Leonine.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nThy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do 't:\n'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.\nThou canst", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain", "She is alive; behold,\nHer eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels\nWhich Pericles hath lost,\nBegin to part their fringes of bright gold;\nThe diamonds of a most praised water\nDo appear, to make the world twice rich.\nLive,\nAnd make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,\nRare as you seem to be.\n\n[She moves.]\n\nTHAISA.\nO dear Diana,\nWhere am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN", "from whence\nLysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,\nHis banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;\nAnd to him in his barge with fervour hies.\nIn your supposing once more put your sight\nOf heavy Pericles; think this his bark:\nWhere what is done in action, more, if might,\nShall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. On board Pericles' ship, off Mytilene. A close pavilion\n", "honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth\nYour charity, and hundreds call themselves\nYour creatures, who by you have been restored:\nAnd not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even\nYour purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon\nSuch strong renown as time shall ne'er decay.\n\n[Enter two or three Servants with a chest.]\n\nFIRST SERVANT.\nSo; lift there.\n\nCERIMON.\nWhat is that?\n\nFIRST SERVANT.\nSir, even now\nDid the sea toss upon our shore", "great and high estate.\nIs left to govern. Bear you it in mind,\nOld Helicanus goes along behind\nWell-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought\nThis king to Tarsus, -- think his pilot thought;\nSo with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on, --\nTo fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.\nLike motes and shadows see them move awhile;\nYour ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.\n\n[Dumb Show.]\n\n[Enter Pericles, at one door, with all his train; Cle", "on deck, with a curtain before it; Pericles within it, reclined\non a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel.\n\n[Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel, the other\nto the barge; to them Helicanus.]\n\nTYRIAN SAILOR.\n[To the Sailor of Mytilene.]\nWhere is lord Helicanus? he can resolve you.\nO, here he is.\nSir, there's a barge put off from Mytilene,\nAnd in it is L", "From bourn to bourn, region to region.\nBy you being pardon'd, we commit no crime\nTo use one language in each several clime\nWhere our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you\nTo learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach you,\nThe stages of our story. Pericles\nIs now again thwarting the wayward seas\nAttended on by many a lord and knight,\nTo see his daughter, all his life's deight.\nOld Escanes, whom Helicanus late\nAdvanced in time to", "Of a pair of bases.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nWe'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a\npair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThen honour be but a goal to my will,\nThis day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\nSCENE II. The same. A public way, or platform leading to the\nlists. A pavilion by the side of it for the reception of the\nKing", ".\nAnd on set purpose let his armour rust\nUntil this day, to scour it in the dust.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nOpinion's but a fool, that makes us scan\nThe outward habit by the inward man.\nBut stay, the knights are coming: we will withdraw\nInto the gallery.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n[Great shouts within, and all cry 'The mean knight!']\n\nSCENE III. The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.\n\n[Enter Simonides, Th", "is so, my lord.\n\nCERIMON.\nHow close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed!\nDid the sea cast it up?\n\nFIRST SERVANT.\nI never saw so huge a billow, sir,\nAs toss'd it upon shore.\n\nCERIMON.\nWrench it open;\nSoft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN.\nA delicate odour.\n\nCERIMON.\nAs ever hit my nostril. So up with it.\nO", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "\nFetch hither all my boxes in my closet.\n\n[Exit a Servant.]\n\nDeath may usurp on nature many hours,\nAnd yet the fire of life kindle again\nThe o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian\nThat had nine hours lien dead,\nWho was by good appliance recovered.\n\n[Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire.\n\nWell said, well said; the fire and cloths.\nThe rough and woeful music that we have,\nCause it to sound,", "Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,\nAnd bear his courses to be ordered\nBy Lady Fortune; while our scene must play\nHis daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day\nIn her unholy service. Patience, then,\nAnd think you now are all in Mytilene.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE V. Mytilene. A street before the brothel.\n\n[Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen.]\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nDid you ever hear the like?", "you most potent gods! what's here? a corse!\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nMost strange!\n\nCERIMON.\nShrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured\nWith full bags of spices! A passport too!\nApollo, perfect me in the characters!\n\n[Reads from a scroll.]\n\n 'Here I give to understand,\n If e'er this coffin drive a-land,\n I, King Pericles, have lost\n This queen, worth all our m", "Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry:\nThat pupils lacks she none of noble race,\nWho pour their bounty on her; and her gain\nShe gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place;\nAnd to her father turn our thoughts again,\nWhere we left him, on the sea. We there him lost;\nWhence, driven before the winds, he is arrived\nHere where his daughter dwells; and on this coast\nSuppose him now at anchor. The city strived\nGod Neptune's annual feast to keep:", "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other" ], [ "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "-enter Antiochus.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nHe gath found the meaning, for which we mean\nTo have his head.\nHe must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,\nNor tell the world Antiochus doth sin\nIn such a loathed manner;\nAnd therefore instantly this prince must die;\nFor by his fall my honour must keep high.\nWho attends us there?\n\n[Enter Thaliard.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nDoth your highness call?\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nTh", "ymes,\nAnd that to hear an old man sing\nMay to your wishes pleasure bring,\nI life would wish, and that I might\nWaste it for you, like taper-light.\nThis Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great\nBuilt up, this city, for his chiefest seat;\nThe fairest in all Syria,\nI tell you what mine authors say:\nThis king unto him took a fere,\nWho died and left a female heir,\nSo buxom, so blithe, and full of face,\nAs heaven had", ", I 'II give some light unto you.\nBeing at Antioch --\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWhat from Antioch?\n\nHELICANUS.\nRoyal Antiochus -- on what cause I know not\nTook some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:\nAnd doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,\nTo show his sorrow, he 'ld correct himself;\nSo puts himself unto the shipman's toil,\nWith whom each minute threatens life", "Simonides and the rest.]\n\nBy many a dern and painful perch\nOf Pericles the careful search,\nBy the four opposing coigns\nWhich the world together joins,\nIs made with all due diligence\nThat horse and sail and high expense\nCan stead the quest. At last from Tyre,\nFame answering the most strange inquire,\nTo the court of King Simonides\nAre letters brought, the tenour these:\nAntiochus and his daughter dead;\nThe men of Tyrus on the head\nOf Helicanus would set on", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "Kill King\nPericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home:\n'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and\nhad good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of\nthe king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I\nsee he had some reason for 't; for if a king bid a man be a\nvillain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.\nHush! here come the lords of Tyre.\n", "aliard,\nYou are of our chamber, and our mind partakes\nHer private actions to your secrecy;\nAnd for your faithfulness we will advance you.\nThaliard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold;\nWe hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him:\nIt fits thee not to ask the reason why,\nBecause we Bid it. Say, is it done?\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nTis done.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nEnough.\n\n[Enter a", "not at earthly joys as erst they did;\nSo I bequeath a happy peace to you\nAnd all good men, as every prince should do;\nMy riches to the earth from whence they came;\nBut my unspotted fire of love to you.\n\n[To the daughter of Antiochus.]\n\nThus ready for the way of life or death,\nI wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nScorning advice, read the conclusion, then:\nWhich read and not expounded, 't", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "word for faith, not ask thine oath:\nWho shuns not to break one will sure crack both:\nBut in our orbs we'll live so round and safe,\nThat time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,\nThou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\nSCENE III. Tyre. An ante-chamber in the Palace.\n\n[Enter Thaliard.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nSo, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I", "res say Jove doth ill?\nIt is enough you know; and it is fit,\nWhat being more known grows worse, to smother it.\nAll love the womb that their first bred,\nThen give my tongue like leave to love my head.\n\nANTIOCHUS.[Aside]\nHeaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning:\nBut I will gloze with him. -- Young prince of Tyre.\nThough by the tenour of our strict edict,\nYour exposition misinterpreting,\nWe might proceed to", "\nWho is the second that presents himself?\n\nTHALIARD.\nA prince of Macedon, my royal father;\nAnd the device he bears upon his shield\nIs an arm'd knight that's conquer'd by a lady;\nThe motto thus, in Spanish, 'Piu por dulzura que por fuerza.'\n\n[The Third Knight passes over.]\n\nSIMONIDES.\nAnd what's the third?\n\nTHALIARD.\nThe third of Antioch;\nAnd his device, a wreath of ch", "MACHUS.\nYou wish me well.\nBeing on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs,\nSeeing this goodly vessel ride before us,\nI made to it, to know of whence you are.\n\nHELICANUS.\nFirst, what is your place?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nI am the governor of this place you lie before.\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir,\nOur vessel is of Tyre, in it the king;\nA man who for this three months hath not spoken\nTo any one, nor", "\n[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords of Tyre.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nYou shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,\nFurther to question me of your king's departure:\nHis seal'd commission, left in trust with me,\nDoth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nHow! the king gone!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIf further yet you will be satisfied,\nWhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves,\nHe would depart", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "ivalry;\nThe word, 'Me pompae provexit apex.'\n\n[The Fourth Knight passes over.]\n\nSIMONIDES.\nWhat is the fourth?\n\nTHALIARD.\nA burning torch that's turned upside down;\nThe word, 'Quod me alit, me extinguit.'\n\nSIMONIDES.\nWhich shows that beauty hath his power and will,\nWhich can as well inflame as it can kill.\n\n[The Fifth Knight passes over.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nThe fifth, an hand", "is decreed,\nAs these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.\n\nDAUGHTER.\nOf all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!\nOf all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!\n\nPERICLES\nLike a bold champion, I assume THe lists,\nNor ask advice of any other thought\nBut faithfulness and courage.\n\n[He reads the riddle.]\n\nI am no viper, yet I feed\nOn mother's flesh which did me breed.\nI sought a husband, in which labour", ",\nWhat minstrelsy, and pretty din,\nThe regent made in Mytilene\nTo greet the king. So he thrived,\nThat he is promised to be wived\nTo fair Marina; but in no wise\nTill he had done his sacrifice,\nAs Dian bade: whereto being bound,\nThe interim, pray you, all confound.\nIn feather'd briefness sails are fill'd,\nAnd wishes fall out as they're will'd.\nAt Ephesus, the temple see,\nCur king and all" ], [ "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nBehold him.\n[Pericles discovered.]\nThis was a goodly person.\nTill the disaster that, one mortal night,\nDrove him to this.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!\nHail, royal sir!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIt is in vain; he will not speak to you.\n\nFIRST LORD.\nSir,\nWe have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,\nWould win some words of him.", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "\nBecoming well thy fact: what canst thou say\nWhen noble Pericles shall demand his child?\n\nDIONYZA.\nThat she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,\nTo foster it, nor ever to preserve.\nShe died at night; I'11 say so. Who can cross it?\nUnless you play the pious innocent,\nAnd for an honest attribute cry out\n'She died by foul play.'\n\nCLEON.\nO, go to. Well, well,\nOf all the faults beneath the heavens, the", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "\nAnd then return to us.\n\n[Exeunt Lords.]\n\nHelicanus, thou\nHast moved us: what seest thou in our looks?\n\nHELICANUS.\nAn angry brow, dread lord.\n\nPERICLES.\nIf there be such a dart in princes' frowns,\nHow durst thy tongue move anger to our face?\n\nHELICANUS.\nHow dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence\nThey have their nourishment?\n\nPERICLES.\nThou know'st I have", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "Kill King\nPericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home:\n'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and\nhad good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of\nthe king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I\nsee he had some reason for 't; for if a king bid a man be a\nvillain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.\nHush! here come the lords of Tyre.\n", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", "d in the reporting.\n\nPERICLES.\nPrithee, speak:\nFalseness cannot come from thee; for thou look'st\nModest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace\nFor the crown'd Truth to dwell in: I will believe thee,\nAnd make my senses credit thy relation\nTo points that seem impossible; for thou look'st\nLike one I loved indeed. What were thy friends?\nDidst thou not say, when I did push thee back --\nWhich was when I perceived thee -- that thou earnest\nFrom good", ";\nBrought me to Mytilene. But, good sir.\nWhither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be,\nYou think me an impostor: no, good faith;\nI am the daughter to King Pericles,\nIf good King Pericles be.\n\nPERICLES.\nHo, Helicanus!\n\nHELICANUS.\nCalls my lord?\n\nPERICLES.\nThou art a grave and noble counsellor,\nMost wise in general: tell me, if thou canst,\n", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", "but answer to my just belief,\nI'll well remember you.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\n[Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision.]\n\nDIANA.\nMy temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,\nAnd do upon mine altar sacrifice.\nThere, when my maiden priests are met together,\nBefore the people all,\nReveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:\nTo mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call\nAnd give them repetition to the life.", ":\nThe lady shrieks, and well-a-near\nDoes fall in travail with her fear:\nAnd what ensues in this fell storm\nShall for itself itself perform.\nI nill relate, action may\nConveniently the rest convey;\nWhich might not what by me is told.\nIn your imagination hold\nThis stage the ship, upon whose deck\nThe sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I.\n\n[Enter Pericles, on shipboard.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThou god of", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "he hath pass'd necessity.\nI'll show you those in troubles reign,\nLosing a mite, a mountain gain.\nThe good in conversation,\nTo whom I give my benison,\nIs still at Tarsus, where each man\nThinks all is writ he speken can;\nAnd, to remember what he does,\nBuild his statue to make him glorious:\nBut tidings to the contrary\nAre brought your eyes; what need speak I?\n\nDUMB SHOW.\n\n[Enter at one door Pericles talking with Cleon talking with\n", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence" ], [ "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "Messenger.]\n\nLet your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.\n\nMESSENGER.\nMy lord, prlnce Pericles is fled.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nAs thou\nWilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot\nFrom a well-experienced archer hits the mark\nHis eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return\nUnless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nIf I can get him within my pistol's length,\n", "-enter Antiochus.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nHe gath found the meaning, for which we mean\nTo have his head.\nHe must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,\nNor tell the world Antiochus doth sin\nIn such a loathed manner;\nAnd therefore instantly this prince must die;\nFor by his fall my honour must keep high.\nWho attends us there?\n\n[Enter Thaliard.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nDoth your highness call?\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nTh", ", I 'II give some light unto you.\nBeing at Antioch --\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWhat from Antioch?\n\nHELICANUS.\nRoyal Antiochus -- on what cause I know not\nTook some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:\nAnd doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,\nTo show his sorrow, he 'ld correct himself;\nSo puts himself unto the shipman's toil,\nWith whom each minute threatens life", "Simonides and the rest.]\n\nBy many a dern and painful perch\nOf Pericles the careful search,\nBy the four opposing coigns\nWhich the world together joins,\nIs made with all due diligence\nThat horse and sail and high expense\nCan stead the quest. At last from Tyre,\nFame answering the most strange inquire,\nTo the court of King Simonides\nAre letters brought, the tenour these:\nAntiochus and his daughter dead;\nThe men of Tyrus on the head\nOf Helicanus would set on", "is decreed,\nAs these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.\n\nDAUGHTER.\nOf all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!\nOf all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!\n\nPERICLES\nLike a bold champion, I assume THe lists,\nNor ask advice of any other thought\nBut faithfulness and courage.\n\n[He reads the riddle.]\n\nI am no viper, yet I feed\nOn mother's flesh which did me breed.\nI sought a husband, in which labour", "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nTo bear with patience\nSuch griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,\nThat minister'st a potion unto me\nThat thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.\nAttend me, then: I went to Antioch,\nAnd there as thou know'st, against the face of death,\nI sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,\nFrom whence an issue I might propagate,\nAre arms to princes, and bring", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "he hath pass'd necessity.\nI'll show you those in troubles reign,\nLosing a mite, a mountain gain.\nThe good in conversation,\nTo whom I give my benison,\nIs still at Tarsus, where each man\nThinks all is writ he speken can;\nAnd, to remember what he does,\nBuild his statue to make him glorious:\nBut tidings to the contrary\nAre brought your eyes; what need speak I?\n\nDUMB SHOW.\n\n[Enter at one door Pericles talking with Cleon talking with\n", "cancel of your days;\nYet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree\nAs your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:\nForty days longer we do respite you;\nIf by which time our secret be undone,\nThis mercy shows we'll joy in such a son:\nAnd until then your entertain shall be\nAs doth befit our honour and your worth.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\nPERACLES.\nHow courtesy would seem to cover sin,\nWhen what is done is like an hypocrite,\nThe which is good", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nBehold him.\n[Pericles discovered.]\nThis was a goodly person.\nTill the disaster that, one mortal night,\nDrove him to this.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!\nHail, royal sir!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIt is in vain; he will not speak to you.\n\nFIRST LORD.\nSir,\nWe have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,\nWould win some words of him.", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,\nAnd bear his courses to be ordered\nBy Lady Fortune; while our scene must play\nHis daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day\nIn her unholy service. Patience, then,\nAnd think you now are all in Mytilene.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE V. Mytilene. A street before the brothel.\n\n[Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen.]\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nDid you ever hear the like?", "shown you all was found with her;\nHow she came placed here in the temple;\nNo needful thing omitted.\n\nPERICLES.\nPure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I\nWill offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,\nThis prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,\nShall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,\nThis ornament\nMakes me look dismal will I clip to form;\nAnd what this fourteen years no razor touch'd\nTo grace thy marriage-day, I'", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n" ], [ "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "\nBut should he wrong my liberties in my absence?\n\nHELCANUS.\nWe'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,\nFrom whence we had our being and our birth.\n\nPERICLES.\nTyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus\nIntend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;\nAnd by whose letters I'll dispose myself.\nThe care I had and have of subjects' good\nOn thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.\nI'll take thy", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", "from whence\nLysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,\nHis banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;\nAnd to him in his barge with fervour hies.\nIn your supposing once more put your sight\nOf heavy Pericles; think this his bark:\nWhere what is done in action, more, if might,\nShall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. On board Pericles' ship, off Mytilene. A close pavilion\n", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain", "\n[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords of Tyre.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nYou shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,\nFurther to question me of your king's departure:\nHis seal'd commission, left in trust with me,\nDoth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nHow! the king gone!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIf further yet you will be satisfied,\nWhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves,\nHe would depart", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "go draw up the net.\n\n[Exit with Third Fisherman.]\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow well this honest mirth becomes their 1abour!\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nHark you, sir, do you know where ye are?\n\nPERICLES.\nNot well.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king the\ngood Simonides.\n\nPERICLES.\nThe good King Simonides, do you call him?\n\nFIRST F", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "st thou reach it?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBy break of day, if the wind cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, make for Tarsus!\nThere will I visit Cleon, for the babe\nCannot hold out to Tyrus there I'll leave it\nAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:\nI'll bring the body presently.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon, with", "depart to Tyre:\nHis queen with child makes her desire --\nWhich who shall cross? -- along to go:\nOmit we all their dole and woe:\nLychorida, her nurse, she takes,\nAnd so to sea. Their vessel shakes\nOn Neptune's billow; half the flood\nHath their keel cut: but fortune's mood\nVaries again; the grisled north\nDisgorges such a tempest forth,\nThat, as a duck for life that dives,\nSo up and down the poor ship drives", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "Messenger.]\n\nLet your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.\n\nMESSENGER.\nMy lord, prlnce Pericles is fled.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nAs thou\nWilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot\nFrom a well-experienced archer hits the mark\nHis eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return\nUnless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nIf I can get him within my pistol's length,\n", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "on deck, with a curtain before it; Pericles within it, reclined\non a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel.\n\n[Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel, the other\nto the barge; to them Helicanus.]\n\nTYRIAN SAILOR.\n[To the Sailor of Mytilene.]\nWhere is lord Helicanus? he can resolve you.\nO, here he is.\nSir, there's a barge put off from Mytilene,\nAnd in it is L" ], [ "Of a pair of bases.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nWe'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a\npair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThen honour be but a goal to my will,\nThis day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\nSCENE II. The same. A public way, or platform leading to the\nlists. A pavilion by the side of it for the reception of the\nKing", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain", "shown you all was found with her;\nHow she came placed here in the temple;\nNo needful thing omitted.\n\nPERICLES.\nPure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I\nWill offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,\nThis prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,\nShall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,\nThis ornament\nMakes me look dismal will I clip to form;\nAnd what this fourteen years no razor touch'd\nTo grace thy marriage-day, I'", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "world to just and\ntourney for her love.\n\nPERICLES.\nWere my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish to make one\nthere.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nO, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man cannot get, he\nmay lawfully deal for -- his wife' soul.\n\n[Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, drawing up a net.]\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nHelp, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor\nman", "are as exceltent.\n\nPERICLES.\nIn those that practise them they are, my lord.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nO, that's as much as you would be denied\nOf your fair courtesy.\n\n[The Knights and Ladies dance.]\n\nUnclasp, unclasp:\nThanks gentlemen, to all; all have done well.\n\n[To Pericles.]\n\nBut you the you the best. Pages and lights to conduct\nThese knights unto their several lodging.\n\n[To Pericles.]\n\nY", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "For, daughter, so you are, -- here take your place:\nMarshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.\n\nKNIGHTS.\nWe are honour'd much by good Simonides.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nYour presence glads our days; honour we love;\nFor who hates honour hates the gods above.\n\nMARSHALL.\nSir, yonder is your place.\n\nPERICLES.\nSome other is more fit.\n\nFIRST KNIGHT.\nContend not, sir; for we are gentlemen\nThat neither in", "seems\nYou have been noble towards her.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir, lend me your arm.\n\nPERICLES.\nCome, my Marina.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Enter Gower, before the temple of Diana at Ephesus.\n\nGOWER.\nNow our sands are almost run;\nMore a little, and then dumb.\nThis, my last boon, give me,\nFor such kindness must relieve me,\nThat you aptly will suppose\nWhat pageantry, what feats, what shows", "ounties; till then rest your debtor.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, wilt thou tourney for the lady?\n\nPERICLES.\nI'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, do'e take it, and the gods give thee good on 't!\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nAy, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up this garment\nthrough the rough seams of the waters: there are certain\ncondolement", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "go draw up the net.\n\n[Exit with Third Fisherman.]\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow well this honest mirth becomes their 1abour!\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nHark you, sir, do you know where ye are?\n\nPERICLES.\nNot well.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king the\ngood Simonides.\n\nPERICLES.\nThe good King Simonides, do you call him?\n\nFIRST F", "seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,\nA stranger and distressed gentleman,\nThat never aim'd so high to love your daughter,\nBut bent all offices to honour her.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nThou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou art\nA villain.\n\nPERICLES.\nBy the gods, I have not:\nNever did thought of mine levy offence;\nNor never did my actions yet commence\nA deed might gain her love or your displeasure.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nTraitor, thou", "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "his company.\nThat he can hither come so soon,\nIs by your fancy's thankful doom.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near\nthe altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side;\nCerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.\n\n[Enter Pericles, with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina,\nand a Lady.]\n\nPERICLES.\nHail, Dian! to", "our hearts nor outward eyes\nEnvy the great nor do the low despise.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou are right courteous knights.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSit, sir, sit.\n\nPERICLES.\nBy Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts,\nThese cates resist me, she but thought upon.\n\nTHAISA.\nBy Juno, that is queen of marriage,\nAll viands that I eat do seem unsavoury,\nWishing him my meat. Sure, he's a gallant", "they can,\nWhat need we fear?\nThe ground's the lowest, and we are half way there.\nGo tell their general we attend him here,\nTo know for what he comes, and whence he comes,\nAnd what he craves.\n\nLORD.\nI go, my lord.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nCLEON.\nWelcome is peace, if he on peace consist;\nIf wars, we are unable to resist.\n\n[Enter Pericles with Attendants.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLord governor, for so we hear you are,", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "desire in my breast\nTo taste the fruit of yon celestal tree,\nOr die in the adventure, be my helps,\nAs I am son and servant to your will,\nTo compass such a boundless happiness!\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, --\n\nPERICLES.\nThat would be son to great Antiochus.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nBefore thee stands this fair Hesperides,\nWith golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd;\nFor death-like dragons here affright thee hard:" ], [ ".\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I pray you;\nI'll not bereave you of your servant.\n\nDIONYZA.\nCome, come;\nI love the king your father, and yourself,\nWith more than foreign heart. We every day\nExpect him here: when he shall come and find\nOur paragon to all reports thus blasted,\nHe will repent the breadth of his great voyage;\nBlame both my lord and me, that we have taken\nNo care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,\nWalk, and be", "jewel-like\nAnd cased as richly; in pace another Juno;\nWho starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry,\nThe more she gives them speech. Where do you live?\n\nMARINA.\nWhere I am but a stranger: from the deck\nYou may discern the place.\n\nPERICLES.\nWhere were you bred?\nAnd how achieved you these endowments, which\nYou make more rich to owe?\n\nMARINA.\nIf I should tell my history, it would seem\nLike lies disdain'", "\n\n[He seizes her.]\n\n[Enter Pirates.]\n\nFIRST PIRATE.\nHold, villain!\n\n[Leonine runs away.]\n\nSECOND PIRATE.\nA prize! a prize!\n\nTHIRD PIRATE.\nHalf-part, mates, half-part,\nComes, let's have her aboard suddenly.\n\n[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.]\n\n[Re-enter Leonine.]\n\nLEONINE.\nThese roguing thieves serve the great pirate Val", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "endurance, thou art a man, and I\nHave suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look\nLike Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling\nExtremity out of act. What were thy friends?\nHow lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin?\nRecount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me.\n\nMARINA.\nMy name is Marina.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, I am mock'd,\nAnd thou by some incensed god sent hither\nTo make the", "hath your principal made known unto you who I am?\n\nMARINA.\nWho is my principal?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and\niniquity. O, you have heard something of my power, and so stand\naloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one,\nmy authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee.\nCome, bring me to some private place: come, come.\n\nMARINA", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "world to laugh at me.\n\nMARINA.\nPatience, good sir,\nOr here I'll cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nNay, I'll be patient.\nThou little know'st how thou dost startle me,\nTo call thyself Marina.\n\nMARINA.\nThe name\nWas given me by one that had some power,\nMy father, and a king.\n\nPERICLES.\nHow! a king's daughter?\nAnd call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nYou", "SIMACHUS.\nShe's such a one, that, were I well assured\nCame of a gentle kind and noble stock,\nI'ld wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed.\nFair one, all goodness that consists in bounty\nExpect even here, where is a kingly patient:\nIf that thy prosperous and artificial feat\nCan draw him but to answer thee in aught,\nThy sacred physic shall receive such pay\nAs thy desires can wish.\n\nMARINA.\nSir, I will use\nMy utmost skill in", "\nOn whom foul death hath made this slaughter;\nMarina was she call'd; and at her birth,\nThetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:\nTherefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,\nHath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:\nWherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,\nMake raging battery upon shores of flint.'\n\nNo visor does become black villany\nSo well as soft and tender flattery.\n", ".\n\nMARINA.\nWhither would you have me?\n\nBOULT.\nI must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common hangman\nshall execute it. Come your ways. We'll have no more\ngentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.\n\n[Re-enter Bawd.]\n\nBAWD.\nHow now! what's the matter?\n\nBOULT.\nWorse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy words to the\nLord Lysimachus.\n\nBAWD", "\n\nPERICLES.\nHum, ha!\n\nMARINA.\nI am a maid,\nMy lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,\nBut have been gazed on like a cornet: she speaks,\nMy lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief\nMight equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.\nThough wayward fortune did malign my state,\nMy derivation was from ancestors\nWho stood equivalent with mighty kings:\nBut time hath rooted out my parentage,\nAnd to the world and", "O, your sweet queen!\nThat the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,\nTo have bless'd mine eyes with her!\n\nPERICLES.\nWe cannot but obey\nThe powers above us. Could I rage and roar\nAs doth the sea she lies in, yet the end\nMust be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,\nFor she was born at sea, I have named so, here\nI charge your charity withal, leaving her\nThe infant of your care; beseeching you\nTo give her princely training", "\n[Exit Boult.]\n\nBAWD.\nHere comes that which grows to the stalk; never plucked yet, I\ncan assure you.\n\n[Re-enter Boult with Marina.]\n\nIs she not a fair creature?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\n'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea. Well, there's\nfor you: leave us.\n\nBAWD.\nI beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and I'll have done\npresently.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\n", "go to't so young? Were you a gamester at five or at\nseven?\n\nMARINA.\nEarlier, too, sir, if now I be one.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a creature of\nsale.\n\nMARINA.\nDo you know this house to be a place of such resort, and will\ncome into 't? I hear say you are of honourable parts, and are\nthe governor of this place.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy,", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "his recovery,\nProvided\nThat none but I and my companion maid\nBe suffer'd to come near him.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nCome, let us leave her,\nAnd the gods make her prosperous!\n\n[Marina sings.]\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nMark'd he your music?\n\nMARINA.\nNo, nor look'd on us,\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSee, she will speak to him.\n\nMARINA.\nHail, sir! my lord, lend ear.", "the minute I was born,\nAs my good nurse Lychorida hath oft\nDeliver'd weeping.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, stop there a little!\n\n[Aside.]\n\nThis is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep\nDid mock sad fools withal: this cannot be:\nMy daughter's buried. Well: where were: you bred?\nI'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,\nAnd never interrupt you.\n\nMARINA.\nYou scorn: believe me, 'tw" ], [ ".\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I pray you;\nI'll not bereave you of your servant.\n\nDIONYZA.\nCome, come;\nI love the king your father, and yourself,\nWith more than foreign heart. We every day\nExpect him here: when he shall come and find\nOur paragon to all reports thus blasted,\nHe will repent the breadth of his great voyage;\nBlame both my lord and me, that we have taken\nNo care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,\nWalk, and be", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "aps in Tyre:\nHow Thaliard came full bent with sin\nAnd had intent to murder him;\nAnd that in Tarsus was not best\nLonger for him to make his rest.\nHe, doing so, put forth to seas,\nWhere when men been, there's seldom ease;\nFor now the wind begins to blow;\nThunder above and deeps below\nMake such unquiet, that the ship\nShould house him safe is wreck'd and split;\nAnd he, good prince, having all lost,\nBy waves from coast to coast is tost:", "since my landing I have understood\nYour lord has betook himself to unknown travels,\nMy message must return from whence it came.\n\nHELICANUS.\nWe have no reason to desire it,\nCommended to our master, not to us:\nYet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,\nAs friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE IV. Tarsus. A room in the Governor's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon, the governor of Tarsus, with D", "joys rushing upon me\nO'erbear the shores of my mortality,\nAnd drown me with their sweetness. O, come hither,\nThou that beget'st him that did thee beget;\nThou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,\nAnd found at sea again! O Helicanus,\nDown on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud\nAs thunder threatens us: this is Marina.\nWhat was thy mother's name? tell me but that,\nFor truth can never be confirm'd enough,\nTh", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "jewel-like\nAnd cased as richly; in pace another Juno;\nWho starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry,\nThe more she gives them speech. Where do you live?\n\nMARINA.\nWhere I am but a stranger: from the deck\nYou may discern the place.\n\nPERICLES.\nWhere were you bred?\nAnd how achieved you these endowments, which\nYou make more rich to owe?\n\nMARINA.\nIf I should tell my history, it would seem\nLike lies disdain'", "not to reason of the deed, but do it.\n\nMARINA.\nYou will not do 't for all the world, I hope.\nYou are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow\nYou have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,\nWhen you caught hurt in parting two that fought:\nGood sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:\nYour lady seeks my life; come you between,\nAnd save poor me, the weaker.\n\nLEONINE.\nI am sworn,\nAnd will dispatch.", "ere best I did give o'er.\n -\n\nPERICLES.\nI will believe you by the syllable\nOf what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:\nHow came you in these parts? where were you bred?\n\nMARINA.\nThe king my father did in Tarsus leave me;\nTill cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,\nDid seek to murder me: and having woo'd\nA villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't,\nA crew of pirates came and rescued me", "education all the grace,\nWhich makes her both the heart and place\nOf general wonder. But, alack,\nThat monster envy, oft the wrack\nOf earned praise, Marina's life\nSeeks to take off by treason's knife.\nAnd in this kind hath our Cleon\nOne daughter, and a wench full grown,\nEven ripe for marriage-rite; this maid\nHight Philoten: and it is said\nFor certain in our story, she\nWould ever with Marina be:\nBe't when she weaved the sleided silk\n", "\nOr perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe:\nDo it, and happy; by my silver bow!\nAwake, and tell thy dream.\n\n[Disappears.]\n\nPERICLES.\nCelestial Dian, goddess argentine,\nI will obey thee. Helicanus!\n\n[Re-enter Helicanus, Lysimachus, and Marina.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir?\n\nPERICLES.\nMy purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike\nThe inhospitable", "Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;\nWhich never could I so convey,\nUnless your thoughts went on my way.\nDionyza does appear,\nWith Leonine, a murderer.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nScene I. Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.\n\n[Enter Dionyza and Leonine.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nThy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do 't:\n'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.\nThou canst", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", ".\n\nMARINA.\nWhither would you have me?\n\nBOULT.\nI must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common hangman\nshall execute it. Come your ways. We'll have no more\ngentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.\n\n[Re-enter Bawd.]\n\nBAWD.\nHow now! what's the matter?\n\nBOULT.\nWorse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy words to the\nLord Lysimachus.\n\nBAWD", ".\nIs not this strange?\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nMost rare.\n\nCERIMON.\nHush, my gentle neighbours!\nLend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.\nGet linen: now this matter must be look'd to,\nFor her, relapse is mortal. Come, come;\nAnd AEsculapius guide us!\n\n[Exeunt, carrying her away.]\n\nSCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleon's house.\n\n[Enter Per", "Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.\nDiana, aid my purpose!\n\nBAWD.\nWhat have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleon's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nWhy, are you foolish? Can it be undone?\n\nCLEON.\nO, Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter\nThe sun", "hath your principal made known unto you who I am?\n\nMARINA.\nWho is my principal?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and\niniquity. O, you have heard something of my power, and so stand\naloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one,\nmy authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee.\nCome, bring me to some private place: come, come.\n\nMARINA", "\nOn whom foul death hath made this slaughter;\nMarina was she call'd; and at her birth,\nThetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:\nTherefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,\nHath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:\nWherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,\nMake raging battery upon shores of flint.'\n\nNo visor does become black villany\nSo well as soft and tender flattery.\n" ], [ "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "\n\nCLEON.\nHeavens forgive it!\n\nDIONYZA.\nAnd as for Pericles,\nWhat should he say? We wept after her hearse,\nAnd yet we mourn: her monument\nIs almost finish'd, and her epitaphs\nIn glittering golden characters express\nA general praise to her, and care in us\nAt whose expense 'tis done.\n\nCLEON.\nThou art like the harpy,\nWhich, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,\nSeize with thine", "\nBecoming well thy fact: what canst thou say\nWhen noble Pericles shall demand his child?\n\nDIONYZA.\nThat she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,\nTo foster it, nor ever to preserve.\nShe died at night; I'11 say so. Who can cross it?\nUnless you play the pious innocent,\nAnd for an honest attribute cry out\n'She died by foul play.'\n\nCLEON.\nO, go to. Well, well,\nOf all the faults beneath the heavens, the", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "but answer to my just belief,\nI'll well remember you.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\n[Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision.]\n\nDIANA.\nMy temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,\nAnd do upon mine altar sacrifice.\nThere, when my maiden priests are met together,\nBefore the people all,\nReveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:\nTo mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call\nAnd give them repetition to the life.", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", "and moon ne'er look'd upon!\n\nDIONYZA.\nI think\nYou'll turn a child agan.\n\nCLEON.\nWere I chief lord of all this spacious world,\nI'ld give it to undo the deed. 0 lady,\nMuch less in blood than virtue, yet a princess\nTo equal any single crown o' the earth\nI' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!\nWhom thou hast poison'd too:\nIf thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness", "he hath pass'd necessity.\nI'll show you those in troubles reign,\nLosing a mite, a mountain gain.\nThe good in conversation,\nTo whom I give my benison,\nIs still at Tarsus, where each man\nThinks all is writ he speken can;\nAnd, to remember what he does,\nBuild his statue to make him glorious:\nBut tidings to the contrary\nAre brought your eyes; what need speak I?\n\nDUMB SHOW.\n\n[Enter at one door Pericles talking with Cleon talking with\n", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "great and high estate.\nIs left to govern. Bear you it in mind,\nOld Helicanus goes along behind\nWell-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought\nThis king to Tarsus, -- think his pilot thought;\nSo with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on, --\nTo fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.\nLike motes and shadows see them move awhile;\nYour ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.\n\n[Dumb Show.]\n\n[Enter Pericles, at one door, with all his train; Cle", "is decreed,\nAs these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.\n\nDAUGHTER.\nOf all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!\nOf all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!\n\nPERICLES\nLike a bold champion, I assume THe lists,\nNor ask advice of any other thought\nBut faithfulness and courage.\n\n[He reads the riddle.]\n\nI am no viper, yet I feed\nOn mother's flesh which did me breed.\nI sought a husband, in which labour", "Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame\nYour will to mine, -- and you, sir, hear you,\nEither be ruled by me, or I will make you --\nMan and wife:\nNay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too:\nAnd being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;\nAnd for a further grief, -- God give you joy! --\nWhat, are you both pleased?\n\nTHAISA.\nYes, if you love me, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nEven as my life my blood that fost", "CLEON; all the train with them. Enter at another door a\nGentleman, with a letter to Pericles; Pericles shows the\nletter to Cleon; gives the Messenger a reward, and knights\nhim. Exit Pericles at one door, and Cleon at another.]\n\nGood Helicane, that stay'd at home.\nNot to eat honey like a drone\nFrom others' labours; for though he strive\nTo killen bad, keep good alive;\nAnd to fulfil his prince' desire,\nSends word of all that h", "\nFIRST SAILOR.\nPardon us, sir; with us at sea it has been still observed; and we\nare strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must\noverboard straight.\n\nPERICLES.\nAs you think meet. Most wretched queen!\n\nLYCHORIDA.\nHere she lies, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nA terrible childben hast thou had, my dear;\nNo light, no fire: the unfriendly elements\nForgot thee utterly; nor have I time\nTo give thee hallow", "et my good will is great, though the gift small.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nACT IV.\n\n[Enter Gower.]\n\nGOWER.\nImagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,\nWelcomed and settled to his own desire.\nHis woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,\nUnto Diana there a votaress.\nNow to Marina bend your mind,\nWhom our fast-growing scene must find\nAt Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd\nIn music, letters; who hath gain'd\nOf" ], [ "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "Kill King\nPericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home:\n'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and\nhad good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of\nthe king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I\nsee he had some reason for 't; for if a king bid a man be a\nvillain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.\nHush! here come the lords of Tyre.\n", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nBehold him.\n[Pericles discovered.]\nThis was a goodly person.\nTill the disaster that, one mortal night,\nDrove him to this.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!\nHail, royal sir!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIt is in vain; he will not speak to you.\n\nFIRST LORD.\nSir,\nWe have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,\nWould win some words of him.", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "Messenger.]\n\nLet your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.\n\nMESSENGER.\nMy lord, prlnce Pericles is fled.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nAs thou\nWilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot\nFrom a well-experienced archer hits the mark\nHis eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return\nUnless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nIf I can get him within my pistol's length,\n", "is decreed,\nAs these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.\n\nDAUGHTER.\nOf all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!\nOf all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!\n\nPERICLES\nLike a bold champion, I assume THe lists,\nNor ask advice of any other thought\nBut faithfulness and courage.\n\n[He reads the riddle.]\n\nI am no viper, yet I feed\nOn mother's flesh which did me breed.\nI sought a husband, in which labour", "res say Jove doth ill?\nIt is enough you know; and it is fit,\nWhat being more known grows worse, to smother it.\nAll love the womb that their first bred,\nThen give my tongue like leave to love my head.\n\nANTIOCHUS.[Aside]\nHeaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning:\nBut I will gloze with him. -- Young prince of Tyre.\nThough by the tenour of our strict edict,\nYour exposition misinterpreting,\nWe might proceed to", "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nTo bear with patience\nSuch griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,\nThat minister'st a potion unto me\nThat thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.\nAttend me, then: I went to Antioch,\nAnd there as thou know'st, against the face of death,\nI sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,\nFrom whence an issue I might propagate,\nAre arms to princes, and bring", "Simonides and the rest.]\n\nBy many a dern and painful perch\nOf Pericles the careful search,\nBy the four opposing coigns\nWhich the world together joins,\nIs made with all due diligence\nThat horse and sail and high expense\nCan stead the quest. At last from Tyre,\nFame answering the most strange inquire,\nTo the court of King Simonides\nAre letters brought, the tenour these:\nAntiochus and his daughter dead;\nThe men of Tyrus on the head\nOf Helicanus would set on", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "should never have left, till he cast bells, steeple, church,\nand parish, up again. But if the good King Simonides were of\nmy mind, --\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nSimonides!\n\nTHIRD FISHERMAN.\nWe would purge the land of these drones, that rob the bee of her\nhoney.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow from the finny subjec of the sea\nThese fishers tell the infirmities of men;\nAnd from their watery empire rec", "-enter Antiochus.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nHe gath found the meaning, for which we mean\nTo have his head.\nHe must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,\nNor tell the world Antiochus doth sin\nIn such a loathed manner;\nAnd therefore instantly this prince must die;\nFor by his fall my honour must keep high.\nWho attends us there?\n\n[Enter Thaliard.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nDoth your highness call?\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nTh", "\nTo knit in her their best perfections.\n\n[Music. Enter the Daughter of Antiochus.]\n\nPERICLES\nSee where she comes, apparell'd like the spring,\nGraces her subjects, and her thoughts the king\nOf every virtue gives renown to men!\nHer face the book of praises, where is read\nNothing but curious pleasures, as from thence\nSorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath\nCould never be her mild companion.\nYou gods that made me man, and sway in love,\nThat have inflamed", "\n[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords of Tyre.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nYou shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,\nFurther to question me of your king's departure:\nHis seal'd commission, left in trust with me,\nDoth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nHow! the king gone!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIf further yet you will be satisfied,\nWhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves,\nHe would depart" ], [ "oso ask'd her for his wife,\nHis riddle told not, lost his life:\nSo for her many a wight did die,\nAs yon grim looks do testify.\nWhat now ensues, to the judgement your eye\nI give, my cause who lest can justify.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nYoung prince of Tyre, you have at", "I care not for you.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nPrince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,\nFor that's an article within our law,\nAs dangerous as the rest. Tour time's expired:\nEither expound now, or receive your sentence.\n\nPERICLES.\nGreat king,\nFew love to hear the sins they love to act;\n'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.\nWho has a book of all that monarchs do,\nHe's more secure to keep it shut than", "Kill King\nPericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home:\n'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and\nhad good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of\nthe king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I\nsee he had some reason for 't; for if a king bid a man be a\nvillain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.\nHush! here come the lords of Tyre.\n", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "wondrous fair.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nSir, my daughter thinks very well of you;\nAy, so well, that you must be her master,\nAnd she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am unworthy for her schoolmaster.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nShe thinks not so; peruse this writing else.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nA letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!\n'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.\nO,", "Messenger.]\n\nLet your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.\n\nMESSENGER.\nMy lord, prlnce Pericles is fled.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nAs thou\nWilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot\nFrom a well-experienced archer hits the mark\nHis eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return\nUnless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nIf I can get him within my pistol's length,\n", "Simonides and the rest.]\n\nBy many a dern and painful perch\nOf Pericles the careful search,\nBy the four opposing coigns\nWhich the world together joins,\nIs made with all due diligence\nThat horse and sail and high expense\nCan stead the quest. At last from Tyre,\nFame answering the most strange inquire,\nTo the court of King Simonides\nAre letters brought, the tenour these:\nAntiochus and his daughter dead;\nThe men of Tyrus on the head\nOf Helicanus would set on", "aliard,\nYou are of our chamber, and our mind partakes\nHer private actions to your secrecy;\nAnd for your faithfulness we will advance you.\nThaliard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold;\nWe hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him:\nIt fits thee not to ask the reason why,\nBecause we Bid it. Say, is it done?\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nTis done.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nEnough.\n\n[Enter a", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "\nThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:\nThe mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;\nSays to 'em, if King Pericles\nCome not home in twice six moons,\nHe, obedient to their dooms,\nWill take the crown. The sum of this,\nBrought hither to Pentapolis\nY-ravished the regions round,\nAnd every one with claps can sound,\n'Our heir-apparent is a king!\nWho dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'\nBrief, he must hence", "-enter Antiochus.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nHe gath found the meaning, for which we mean\nTo have his head.\nHe must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,\nNor tell the world Antiochus doth sin\nIn such a loathed manner;\nAnd therefore instantly this prince must die;\nFor by his fall my honour must keep high.\nWho attends us there?\n\n[Enter Thaliard.]\n\nTHALIARD.\nDoth your highness call?\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nTh", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nBehold him.\n[Pericles discovered.]\nThis was a goodly person.\nTill the disaster that, one mortal night,\nDrove him to this.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!\nHail, royal sir!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIt is in vain; he will not speak to you.\n\nFIRST LORD.\nSir,\nWe have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,\nWould win some words of him.", "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", "is decreed,\nAs these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.\n\nDAUGHTER.\nOf all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!\nOf all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!\n\nPERICLES\nLike a bold champion, I assume THe lists,\nNor ask advice of any other thought\nBut faithfulness and courage.\n\n[He reads the riddle.]\n\nI am no viper, yet I feed\nOn mother's flesh which did me breed.\nI sought a husband, in which labour", "not at earthly joys as erst they did;\nSo I bequeath a happy peace to you\nAnd all good men, as every prince should do;\nMy riches to the earth from whence they came;\nBut my unspotted fire of love to you.\n\n[To the daughter of Antiochus.]\n\nThus ready for the way of life or death,\nI wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nScorning advice, read the conclusion, then:\nWhich read and not expounded, 't", ", I 'II give some light unto you.\nBeing at Antioch --\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWhat from Antioch?\n\nHELICANUS.\nRoyal Antiochus -- on what cause I know not\nTook some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:\nAnd doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,\nTo show his sorrow, he 'ld correct himself;\nSo puts himself unto the shipman's toil,\nWith whom each minute threatens life", "\nTo knit in her their best perfections.\n\n[Music. Enter the Daughter of Antiochus.]\n\nPERICLES\nSee where she comes, apparell'd like the spring,\nGraces her subjects, and her thoughts the king\nOf every virtue gives renown to men!\nHer face the book of praises, where is read\nNothing but curious pleasures, as from thence\nSorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath\nCould never be her mild companion.\nYou gods that made me man, and sway in love,\nThat have inflamed", "res say Jove doth ill?\nIt is enough you know; and it is fit,\nWhat being more known grows worse, to smother it.\nAll love the womb that their first bred,\nThen give my tongue like leave to love my head.\n\nANTIOCHUS.[Aside]\nHeaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning:\nBut I will gloze with him. -- Young prince of Tyre.\nThough by the tenour of our strict edict,\nYour exposition misinterpreting,\nWe might proceed to", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "he hath pass'd necessity.\nI'll show you those in troubles reign,\nLosing a mite, a mountain gain.\nThe good in conversation,\nTo whom I give my benison,\nIs still at Tarsus, where each man\nThinks all is writ he speken can;\nAnd, to remember what he does,\nBuild his statue to make him glorious:\nBut tidings to the contrary\nAre brought your eyes; what need speak I?\n\nDUMB SHOW.\n\n[Enter at one door Pericles talking with Cleon talking with\n" ], [ "\nBut should he wrong my liberties in my absence?\n\nHELCANUS.\nWe'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,\nFrom whence we had our being and our birth.\n\nPERICLES.\nTyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus\nIntend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;\nAnd by whose letters I'll dispose myself.\nThe care I had and have of subjects' good\nOn thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.\nI'll take thy", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nBehold him.\n[Pericles discovered.]\nThis was a goodly person.\nTill the disaster that, one mortal night,\nDrove him to this.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!\nHail, royal sir!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIt is in vain; he will not speak to you.\n\nFIRST LORD.\nSir,\nWe have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,\nWould win some words of him.", "\nAnd then return to us.\n\n[Exeunt Lords.]\n\nHelicanus, thou\nHast moved us: what seest thou in our looks?\n\nHELICANUS.\nAn angry brow, dread lord.\n\nPERICLES.\nIf there be such a dart in princes' frowns,\nHow durst thy tongue move anger to our face?\n\nHELICANUS.\nHow dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence\nThey have their nourishment?\n\nPERICLES.\nThou know'st I have", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nTo bear with patience\nSuch griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,\nThat minister'st a potion unto me\nThat thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.\nAttend me, then: I went to Antioch,\nAnd there as thou know'st, against the face of death,\nI sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,\nFrom whence an issue I might propagate,\nAre arms to princes, and bring", "leave to speak,\nFreely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,\nAnd justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,\nWho either by public war or private treason\nWill take away your life.\nTherefore, my lord, go travel for a while,\nTill that his rage and anger be forgot,\nOr till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.\nYour rule direct to any; if to me,\nDay serves not light more faithful than I'll be.\n\nPERICLES.\nI do not doubt thy faith;", "\n[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords of Tyre.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nYou shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,\nFurther to question me of your king's departure:\nHis seal'd commission, left in trust with me,\nDoth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nHow! the king gone!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIf further yet you will be satisfied,\nWhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves,\nHe would depart", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "ours, sir,\nWe have given order to be next our own.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am at your grace's pleasure.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nPrinces, it is too late to talk of love;\nAnd that's the mark I know you level at:\nTherefore each one betake him to his rest;\nTo-morrow all for speeding do their best.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE IV. Tyre. A room in the Govenor's house.\n\n[Enter Helicanus", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "go draw up the net.\n\n[Exit with Third Fisherman.]\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow well this honest mirth becomes their 1abour!\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nHark you, sir, do you know where ye are?\n\nPERICLES.\nNot well.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king the\ngood Simonides.\n\nPERICLES.\nThe good King Simonides, do you call him?\n\nFIRST F", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", "I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nThaliard! adieu!\n\n[Exit Thaliard.]\n\nTill\nPericles be dead,\nMy heart can lend no succour to my head.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.\n\n[Enter Pericles.]\n\nPERICLES. [To Lords without.]\nLet none disturb us. -- Why should this change of thoughts,\nThe sad companion, dull-eyed", "censure:\nAnd knowing this kingdom is without a head, --\nLike goodly buildings left without a roof\nSoon fall to ruin, -- your noble self,\nThat best know how to rulle and how to reign,\nWe thus submit unto, -- our sovereign.\n\nALL.\nLive, noble Helicane!\n\nHELICANUS.\nFor honour's cause, forbear your suffrages:\nIf that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.\nTake I your wish, I leap into the seas,\nWhere's hourly trouble for a minute'", "Messenger.]\n\nLet your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.\n\nMESSENGER.\nMy lord, prlnce Pericles is fled.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nANTIOCHUS.\nAs thou\nWilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot\nFrom a well-experienced archer hits the mark\nHis eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return\nUnless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'\n\nTHALIARD.\nMy lord,\nIf I can get him within my pistol's length,\n", "they can,\nWhat need we fear?\nThe ground's the lowest, and we are half way there.\nGo tell their general we attend him here,\nTo know for what he comes, and whence he comes,\nAnd what he craves.\n\nLORD.\nI go, my lord.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nCLEON.\nWelcome is peace, if he on peace consist;\nIf wars, we are unable to resist.\n\n[Enter Pericles with Attendants.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLord governor, for so we hear you are,", "who spares not innocence:\nWhich love to all, of which thyself art one,\nWho now reprovest me for it, --\n\nHELICANUS.\nAlas, sir!\n\nPERICLES.\nDrew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,\nMusings into my mind, with thousand doubts\nHow I might stop this tempest ere it came;\nAnd finding little comfort to relieve them,\nI thought it princely charity to grieve them.\n\nHELICANUS.\nWell, my lord, since you have given me", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "on deck, with a curtain before it; Pericles within it, reclined\non a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel.\n\n[Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel, the other\nto the barge; to them Helicanus.]\n\nTYRIAN SAILOR.\n[To the Sailor of Mytilene.]\nWhere is lord Helicanus? he can resolve you.\nO, here he is.\nSir, there's a barge put off from Mytilene,\nAnd in it is L", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain" ], [ "felt several years,\nAnd wanting breath to speak help me with tears.\n\nDIONYZA.\nI'll do my best, sir.\n\nCLEON.\nThis Tarsus, o'er which I have the government,\nA city on whom plenty held full hand,\nFor riches strew'd herself even in the streets;\nWhose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds,\nAnd strangers ne'er beheld but wonder'd at;\nWhose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,\nLike one another", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n", "\nOr perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe:\nDo it, and happy; by my silver bow!\nAwake, and tell thy dream.\n\n[Disappears.]\n\nPERICLES.\nCelestial Dian, goddess argentine,\nI will obey thee. Helicanus!\n\n[Re-enter Helicanus, Lysimachus, and Marina.]\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir?\n\nPERICLES.\nMy purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike\nThe inhospitable", "\nBut should he wrong my liberties in my absence?\n\nHELCANUS.\nWe'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,\nFrom whence we had our being and our birth.\n\nPERICLES.\nTyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus\nIntend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;\nAnd by whose letters I'll dispose myself.\nThe care I had and have of subjects' good\nOn thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.\nI'll take thy", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", "he hath pass'd necessity.\nI'll show you those in troubles reign,\nLosing a mite, a mountain gain.\nThe good in conversation,\nTo whom I give my benison,\nIs still at Tarsus, where each man\nThinks all is writ he speken can;\nAnd, to remember what he does,\nBuild his statue to make him glorious:\nBut tidings to the contrary\nAre brought your eyes; what need speak I?\n\nDUMB SHOW.\n\n[Enter at one door Pericles talking with Cleon talking with\n", "st thou reach it?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBy break of day, if the wind cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, make for Tarsus!\nThere will I visit Cleon, for the babe\nCannot hold out to Tyrus there I'll leave it\nAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:\nI'll bring the body presently.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon, with", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "great and high estate.\nIs left to govern. Bear you it in mind,\nOld Helicanus goes along behind\nWell-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought\nThis king to Tarsus, -- think his pilot thought;\nSo with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on, --\nTo fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.\nLike motes and shadows see them move awhile;\nYour ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.\n\n[Dumb Show.]\n\n[Enter Pericles, at one door, with all his train; Cle", "stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;\nHere many sink, yet those which see them fall\nHave scarce strength left to give them burial.\nIs not this true?\n\nDIONYZA.\nOur cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.\n\nCLEON.\nO, let those cities that of plenty's cup\nAnd her prosperities so largely taste,\nWith their superflous riots, hear these tears!\nThe misery of Tarsus may be theirs.\n\n[Enter a Lord.]\n\nLORD.\nWhere's the lord", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nBehold him.\n[Pericles discovered.]\nThis was a goodly person.\nTill the disaster that, one mortal night,\nDrove him to this.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!\nHail, royal sir!\n\nHELICANUS.\nIt is in vain; he will not speak to you.\n\nFIRST LORD.\nSir,\nWe have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,\nWould win some words of him.", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "\nALL.\nThe gods of Greece protect you!\nAnd we'll pray for you.\n\nPERICLES.\nArise, I pray you, rise:\nWe do not look for reverence, but for love,\nAnd harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.\n\nCLEON.\nThe which when any shall not gratify,\nOr pay you with unthankfulness in thought,\nBe it our wives, our children, or ourselves,\nThe curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!\nTill when, -- the which I hope shall ne'", "et my good will is great, though the gift small.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nACT IV.\n\n[Enter Gower.]\n\nGOWER.\nImagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,\nWelcomed and settled to his own desire.\nHis woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,\nUnto Diana there a votaress.\nNow to Marina bend your mind,\nWhom our fast-growing scene must find\nAt Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd\nIn music, letters; who hath gain'd\nOf", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "since my landing I have understood\nYour lord has betook himself to unknown travels,\nMy message must return from whence it came.\n\nHELICANUS.\nWe have no reason to desire it,\nCommended to our master, not to us:\nYet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,\nAs friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE IV. Tarsus. A room in the Governor's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon, the governor of Tarsus, with D", "\n\nHELICANUS.\nTo bear with patience\nSuch griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,\nThat minister'st a potion unto me\nThat thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.\nAttend me, then: I went to Antioch,\nAnd there as thou know'st, against the face of death,\nI sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,\nFrom whence an issue I might propagate,\nAre arms to princes, and bring" ], [ "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", ":\nThe lady shrieks, and well-a-near\nDoes fall in travail with her fear:\nAnd what ensues in this fell storm\nShall for itself itself perform.\nI nill relate, action may\nConveniently the rest convey;\nWhich might not what by me is told.\nIn your imagination hold\nThis stage the ship, upon whose deck\nThe sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I.\n\n[Enter Pericles, on shipboard.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThou god of", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "st thou reach it?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBy break of day, if the wind cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, make for Tarsus!\nThere will I visit Cleon, for the babe\nCannot hold out to Tyrus there I'll leave it\nAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:\nI'll bring the body presently.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon, with", "on and\nDionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat\nPericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a\nmighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nSee how belief may suffer by foul show;\nThis borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;\nAnd Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,\nWith sighs shot through; and biggest tears o'ershower'd,\nLeaves Tarsus and again embarks. He", "from whence\nLysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,\nHis banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;\nAnd to him in his barge with fervour hies.\nIn your supposing once more put your sight\nOf heavy Pericles; think this his bark:\nWhere what is done in action, more, if might,\nShall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. On board Pericles' ship, off Mytilene. A close pavilion\n", ", sir, has drunk to you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank him.\n\nTHAISA.\nWishing it so much blood unto your life.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.\n\nTHAISA.\nAnd further he desires to know of you,\nOf whence you are, your name and parentage.\n\nPERICLES.\nA gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;\nMy education been in arts and arms;\nWho, looking for adventures in the world,\nWas", "go draw up the net.\n\n[Exit with Third Fisherman.]\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow well this honest mirth becomes their 1abour!\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nHark you, sir, do you know where ye are?\n\nPERICLES.\nNot well.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king the\ngood Simonides.\n\nPERICLES.\nThe good King Simonides, do you call him?\n\nFIRST F", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "\nFIRST SAILOR.\nPardon us, sir; with us at sea it has been still observed; and we\nare strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must\noverboard straight.\n\nPERICLES.\nAs you think meet. Most wretched queen!\n\nLYCHORIDA.\nHere she lies, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nA terrible childben hast thou had, my dear;\nNo light, no fire: the unfriendly elements\nForgot thee utterly; nor have I time\nTo give thee hallow", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", "wind,\nIn that vast tennis-court, have made the ball\nFor them to play upon, entreats you pity him;\nHe asks of you, that never used to beg.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nNo, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our country of Greece\ngets more with begging than we can do with working.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nCanst thou catch any fishes, then?\n\nPERICLES.\nI never practised it.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nNay, then thou", ": even at the first\nThy loss is more than can thy portage quit,\nWith all thou canst find here, Now, the good gods\nThrow their best eyes upon't!\n\n{Enter two Sailors.]\n\nFIRST SAILOR.\nWhat courage, sir? God save you!\n\nPERICLES.\nCourage enough: I do not fear the flaw;\nIt hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love\nOf ths poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,\nI would it would be quiet", "but answer to my just belief,\nI'll well remember you.\n\n[Exeunt all but Pericles.]\n\n[Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision.]\n\nDIANA.\nMy temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,\nAnd do upon mine altar sacrifice.\nThere, when my maiden priests are met together,\nBefore the people all,\nReveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:\nTo mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call\nAnd give them repetition to the life.", "on deck, with a curtain before it; Pericles within it, reclined\non a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel.\n\n[Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel, the other\nto the barge; to them Helicanus.]\n\nTYRIAN SAILOR.\n[To the Sailor of Mytilene.]\nWhere is lord Helicanus? he can resolve you.\nO, here he is.\nSir, there's a barge put off from Mytilene,\nAnd in it is L", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM" ], [ "should never have left, till he cast bells, steeple, church,\nand parish, up again. But if the good King Simonides were of\nmy mind, --\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nSimonides!\n\nTHIRD FISHERMAN.\nWe would purge the land of these drones, that rob the bee of her\nhoney.\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow from the finny subjec of the sea\nThese fishers tell the infirmities of men;\nAnd from their watery empire rec", "FIRST FISHERMAN.\nDie quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here; come, put it\non; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a handsome fellow! Come,\nthou shalt go home, and we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for\nfasting-days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks, and thou\nshalt be welcome.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank you, sir.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nHark you, my", "go draw up the net.\n\n[Exit with Third Fisherman.]\n\nPERICLES. [Aside.]\nHow well this honest mirth becomes their 1abour!\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nHark you, sir, do you know where ye are?\n\nPERICLES.\nNot well.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king the\ngood Simonides.\n\nPERICLES.\nThe good King Simonides, do you call him?\n\nFIRST F", "wind,\nIn that vast tennis-court, have made the ball\nFor them to play upon, entreats you pity him;\nHe asks of you, that never used to beg.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nNo, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our country of Greece\ngets more with begging than we can do with working.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nCanst thou catch any fishes, then?\n\nPERICLES.\nI never practised it.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nNay, then thou", "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "ollect\nAll that may men approve or men detect!\nPeace be at your labour, honest fishermen.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nHonest! good fellow, what's that; If it be a day fits you, search\nout of the calendar, and nobody look after it.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay see the sea hath cast upon your coast.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nWhat a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our way!\n\nPERICLES.\nA man whom both the waters and the", "\nAll perishen of man, of pelf,\nNe aught escapen but himself;\nTill fortune, tired with doing bad,\nThrew him ashore, to give him glad:\nAnd here he comes. What shall be next,\nPardon old Gower, -- this longs the text.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.\n\n[Enter Pericles, wet.]\n\nPERICLES.\nYet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!\nWind, rain", "they can,\nWhat need we fear?\nThe ground's the lowest, and we are half way there.\nGo tell their general we attend him here,\nTo know for what he comes, and whence he comes,\nAnd what he craves.\n\nLORD.\nI go, my lord.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nCLEON.\nWelcome is peace, if he on peace consist;\nIf wars, we are unable to resist.\n\n[Enter Pericles with Attendants.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLord governor, for so we hear you are,", "ISHERMAN.\nAy, sir; and he deserves so to be called for his peaceable reign\nand good government.\n\nPERICLES.\nHe is a happy king, since he gains from his subjects the name of\ngood government. How far is his court distant from this shore?\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nMarry sir, half a day's journey: and I'll tell you, he hath a\nfair daughter, and to-morrow is her birth-day; and there are\nprinces and knights come from all parts of the", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", "friend; you said you could not beg.\n\nPERICLES.\nI did but crave.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nBut crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I shall 'scape\nwhipping.\n\nPERICLES.\nWhy, are your beggars whipped, then?\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nO, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your beggars were\nwhipped, I would wish no better office than to be beadle.\nBut, master, I'll", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "Of a pair of bases.\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nWe'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a\npair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.\n\nPERICLES.\nThen honour be but a goal to my will,\nThis day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\nSCENE II. The same. A public way, or platform leading to the\nlists. A pavilion by the side of it for the reception of the\nKing", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,\nAnd bear his courses to be ordered\nBy Lady Fortune; while our scene must play\nHis daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day\nIn her unholy service. Patience, then,\nAnd think you now are all in Mytilene.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE V. Mytilene. A street before the brothel.\n\n[Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen.]\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nDid you ever hear the like?", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "ounties; till then rest your debtor.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, wilt thou tourney for the lady?\n\nPERICLES.\nI'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.\n\nFIRST FISHERMAN.\nWhy, do'e take it, and the gods give thee good on 't!\n\nSECOND FISHERMAN.\nAy, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up this garment\nthrough the rough seams of the waters: there are certain\ncondolement", "\nALL.\nThe gods of Greece protect you!\nAnd we'll pray for you.\n\nPERICLES.\nArise, I pray you, rise:\nWe do not look for reverence, but for love,\nAnd harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.\n\nCLEON.\nThe which when any shall not gratify,\nOr pay you with unthankfulness in thought,\nBe it our wives, our children, or ourselves,\nThe curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!\nTill when, -- the which I hope shall ne'", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can" ], [ "depart to Tyre:\nHis queen with child makes her desire --\nWhich who shall cross? -- along to go:\nOmit we all their dole and woe:\nLychorida, her nurse, she takes,\nAnd so to sea. Their vessel shakes\nOn Neptune's billow; half the flood\nHath their keel cut: but fortune's mood\nVaries again; the grisled north\nDisgorges such a tempest forth,\nThat, as a duck for life that dives,\nSo up and down the poor ship drives", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", ". Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.]\n\nCERIMON.\nMadam, this letter, and some certain jewels,\nLay with you in your coffer: which are now\nAt your command. Know you the character?\n\nTHAISA.\nIt is my lord's.\nThat I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,\nEven on my eaning time; but whether there\nDeliver'd, by the holy gods,\nI cannot", "\nFIRST SAILOR.\nPardon us, sir; with us at sea it has been still observed; and we\nare strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must\noverboard straight.\n\nPERICLES.\nAs you think meet. Most wretched queen!\n\nLYCHORIDA.\nHere she lies, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nA terrible childben hast thou had, my dear;\nNo light, no fire: the unfriendly elements\nForgot thee utterly; nor have I time\nTo give thee hallow", "the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say\nA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.\n\n[Exit Lychorida.]\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nSir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed\nready.\n\nPERICLES.\nI thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nWe are near Tarsus.\n\nPERICLES.\nThither, gentle mariner,\nAlter thy course for Tyre. When, can", "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", ":\nThe lady shrieks, and well-a-near\nDoes fall in travail with her fear:\nAnd what ensues in this fell storm\nShall for itself itself perform.\nI nill relate, action may\nConveniently the rest convey;\nWhich might not what by me is told.\nIn your imagination hold\nThis stage the ship, upon whose deck\nThe sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I.\n\n[Enter Pericles, on shipboard.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThou god of", "She is alive; behold,\nHer eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels\nWhich Pericles hath lost,\nBegin to part their fringes of bright gold;\nThe diamonds of a most praised water\nDo appear, to make the world twice rich.\nLive,\nAnd make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,\nRare as you seem to be.\n\n[She moves.]\n\nTHAISA.\nO dear Diana,\nWhere am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did", "aps in Tyre:\nHow Thaliard came full bent with sin\nAnd had intent to murder him;\nAnd that in Tarsus was not best\nLonger for him to make his rest.\nHe, doing so, put forth to seas,\nWhere when men been, there's seldom ease;\nFor now the wind begins to blow;\nThunder above and deeps below\nMake such unquiet, that the ship\nShould house him safe is wreck'd and split;\nAnd he, good prince, having all lost,\nBy waves from coast to coast is tost:", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", ": even at the first\nThy loss is more than can thy portage quit,\nWith all thou canst find here, Now, the good gods\nThrow their best eyes upon't!\n\n{Enter two Sailors.]\n\nFIRST SAILOR.\nWhat courage, sir? God save you!\n\nPERICLES.\nCourage enough: I do not fear the flaw;\nIt hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love\nOf ths poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,\nI would it would be quiet", "from whence\nLysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,\nHis banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;\nAnd to him in his barge with fervour hies.\nIn your supposing once more put your sight\nOf heavy Pericles; think this his bark:\nWhere what is done in action, more, if might,\nShall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE I. On board Pericles' ship, off Mytilene. A close pavilion\n", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "st thou reach it?\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBy break of day, if the wind cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, make for Tarsus!\nThere will I visit Cleon, for the babe\nCannot hold out to Tyrus there I'll leave it\nAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:\nI'll bring the body presently.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon, with", "his company.\nThat he can hither come so soon,\nIs by your fancy's thankful doom.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near\nthe altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side;\nCerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.\n\n[Enter Pericles, with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina,\nand a Lady.]\n\nPERICLES.\nHail, Dian! to", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank" ], [ "\nFIRST SAILOR.\nPardon us, sir; with us at sea it has been still observed; and we\nare strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must\noverboard straight.\n\nPERICLES.\nAs you think meet. Most wretched queen!\n\nLYCHORIDA.\nHere she lies, sir.\n\nPERICLES.\nA terrible childben hast thou had, my dear;\nNo light, no fire: the unfriendly elements\nForgot thee utterly; nor have I time\nTo give thee hallow", ". Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's house.\n\n[Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.]\n\nCERIMON.\nMadam, this letter, and some certain jewels,\nLay with you in your coffer: which are now\nAt your command. Know you the character?\n\nTHAISA.\nIt is my lord's.\nThat I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,\nEven on my eaning time; but whether there\nDeliver'd, by the holy gods,\nI cannot", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", "undane cost.\n Who her, give her burying;\n She was the daughter of a king:\n Besides this treasure for a fee,\n The gods requite his charity!'\nIf thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart\nThat even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN.\nMost likely, sir.\n\nCERIMON.\nNay, certainly to-night;\nFor look how fresh she looks! They were too rough\nThat threw her in the sea. Make a fire within", "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", ".\n\nFIRST SAILOR.\nSlack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and\nsplit thyself.\n\nSECOND SAILOR.\nBut sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I\ncare not.\n\nFIRST SAILOR.\nSir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high, the wind is\nloud and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead.\n\nPERICLES.\nThat's your superstition.\n", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", ",\nBesides the gods, for this great miracle.\n\nTHAISA.\nLord Cerimon, my lord; this man,\nThrough whom the gods have shown their power; that can\nFrom first to last resolve you.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend sir,\nThe gods can have no mortal officer\nMore like a god than you. Will you deliver\nHow this dead queen re-lives?\n\nCERIMON.\nI will, my lord\nBeseech you, first go with me to my house,\nWhere shall be", "She is alive; behold,\nHer eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels\nWhich Pericles hath lost,\nBegin to part their fringes of bright gold;\nThe diamonds of a most praised water\nDo appear, to make the world twice rich.\nLive,\nAnd make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,\nRare as you seem to be.\n\n[She moves.]\n\nTHAISA.\nO dear Diana,\nWhere am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "by the rough seas reft of ships and men,\nAnd after shipwreck driven upon this shore.\n\nTHAISA.\nHe thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,\nA gentleman of Tyre,\nWho only by misfortune of the seas\nBereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nNow, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,\nAnd will awake him from his melancholy.\nCome, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,\nAnd waste the time, which looks for other", "you most potent gods! what's here? a corse!\n\nFIRST GENTLEMAN.\nMost strange!\n\nCERIMON.\nShrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured\nWith full bags of spices! A passport too!\nApollo, perfect me in the characters!\n\n[Reads from a scroll.]\n\n 'Here I give to understand,\n If e'er this coffin drive a-land,\n I, King Pericles, have lost\n This queen, worth all our m", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "or death.\n\nTHALIARD. [Aside.]\nWell, I perceive\nI shall not be hang'd now, although I would;\nBut since he 's gone, the king's seas must please\nHe 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.\nI 'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!\n\nHELICANUS.\nLord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.\n\nTHALIARD.\nFrom him I come\nWith message unto princely Pericles;\nBut", "rightly say. But since King Pericles,\nMy wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,\nA vestal livery will I take me to,\nAnd never more have joy.\n\nCERIMON.\nMadam, if this you purpose as ye speak,\nDiana's temple is not distant far,\nWhere you may abide till your date expire.\nMoreover, if you please, a niece of mine\nShall there attend you.\n\nTHAISA.\nMy recompense is thanks, that's all;\nY", "IDES.\nHere, with a cup that's stored unto the brim, --\nAs you do love, fill to your mistress' lips, --\nWe drink this health to you.\n\nKNIGHTS.\nWe thank your grace.\n\nSIMONIDES.\nYet pause awhile:\nYon knight doth sit too melancholy,\nAs if the entertainment in our court\nHad not a show might countervail his worth.\nNote it not you, Thaisa?\n\nTHAISA.\nWhat is it\nTo me", ":\nThe lady shrieks, and well-a-near\nDoes fall in travail with her fear:\nAnd what ensues in this fell storm\nShall for itself itself perform.\nI nill relate, action may\nConveniently the rest convey;\nWhich might not what by me is told.\nIn your imagination hold\nThis stage the ship, upon whose deck\nThe sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nSCENE I.\n\n[Enter Pericles, on shipboard.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThou god of", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did" ], [ ".\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I pray you;\nI'll not bereave you of your servant.\n\nDIONYZA.\nCome, come;\nI love the king your father, and yourself,\nWith more than foreign heart. We every day\nExpect him here: when he shall come and find\nOur paragon to all reports thus blasted,\nHe will repent the breadth of his great voyage;\nBlame both my lord and me, that we have taken\nNo care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,\nWalk, and be", "Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;\nWhich never could I so convey,\nUnless your thoughts went on my way.\nDionyza does appear,\nWith Leonine, a murderer.\n\n[Exit.]\n\nScene I. Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.\n\n[Enter Dionyza and Leonine.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nThy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do 't:\n'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.\nThou canst", "wain whistles, and\nThe master calls, and trebles their confusion.\n\nLEONINE.\nCome, say your prayers.\n\nMARINA.\nWhat mean you?\n\nLEONINE.\nIf you require a little space for prayer,\nI grant it: pray; but be not tedious,\nFor the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn\nTo do my work with haste.\n\nMARINA.\nWhy will you kill rne?\n\nLEONINE.\nTo satisfy my lady.\n\nMARINA", "leave you, my sweet lady, for a while:\nPray, walk softly, do not heat your blood:\nWhat! I must have a care of you.\n\nMARINA.\nMy thanks, sweet madam.\n\n[Exit Dionyza.]\n\nIs this wind westerly that blows?\n\nLEONINE.\nSouth-west.\n\nMARINA.\nWhen I was born, the wind was north.\n\nLEONINE.\nWas 't so?\n\nMARINA.\nMy father, as nurse said, did", "not to reason of the deed, but do it.\n\nMARINA.\nYou will not do 't for all the world, I hope.\nYou are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow\nYou have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,\nWhen you caught hurt in parting two that fought:\nGood sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:\nYour lady seeks my life; come you between,\nAnd save poor me, the weaker.\n\nLEONINE.\nI am sworn,\nAnd will dispatch.", ", but you, how she came dead,\nNor none can know, Leonine being gone.\nShe did distain my child, and stood between\nHer and her fortunes: none would look on her,\nBut cast their gazes on Marina's face;\nWhilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin\nNot worth the time of day. It pierced me through;\nAnd though you call my course unnatural,\nYou not your child well loving, yet I find\nIt greets me as an enterprise of kindness\nPerform'd to your sole daughter.", "swears\nNever to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:\nHe puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears\nA tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,\nAnd yet he rides it out. Now please you wit\nThe epitaph is for Marina writ\nBy wicked Dionyza.\n\n[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]\n'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,\nWho wither'd in her spring of year.\nShe was of Tyrus the king's daughter,", "\nOn whom foul death hath made this slaughter;\nMarina was she call'd; and at her birth,\nThetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:\nTherefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,\nHath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:\nWherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,\nMake raging battery upon shores of flint.'\n\nNo visor does become black villany\nSo well as soft and tender flattery.\n", "debts,\nAnd not as given. This so darks\nIn Philoten all graceful marks,\nThat Cleon's wife, with envy rare,\nA present murderer does prepare\nFor good Marina, that her daughter\nMight stand peerless by this slaughter.\nThe sooner her vile thoughts to stead,\nLychorida, our nurse, is dead:\nAnd cursed Dionyza hath\nThe pregnant instrument of wrath\nPrest for this blow. The unborn event\nI do commend to your content:\nOnly I carry winged time\n", "\n\n[He seizes her.]\n\n[Enter Pirates.]\n\nFIRST PIRATE.\nHold, villain!\n\n[Leonine runs away.]\n\nSECOND PIRATE.\nA prize! a prize!\n\nTHIRD PIRATE.\nHalf-part, mates, half-part,\nComes, let's have her aboard suddenly.\n\n[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.]\n\n[Re-enter Leonine.]\n\nLEONINE.\nThese roguing thieves serve the great pirate Val", "perform thy just command,\nI here confess myself the king of Tyre;\nWho, frighted from my country, did wed\nAt Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.\nAt sea in childbed died she, but brought forth\nA maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,\nWears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus\nWas nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years\nHe sought to murder: but her better stars\nBrought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore\nRiding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,", " Thou art resolved?\n\nLEONINE.\nI am resolved.\n\n[Enter Marina, with a basket of flowers.]\n\nMARINA.\nNo, I will rob Tellus of her weed\nTo strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,\nThe purple violets, and marigolds,\nShall as a carpet hang upon thy grave,\nWhile summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,\nBorn in a tempest, when my mother died,\nThis world to me is like a lasting storm,\nWhir", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.\nDiana, aid my purpose!\n\nBAWD.\nWhat have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleon's house.\n\n[Enter Cleon and Dionyza.]\n\nDIONYZA.\nWhy, are you foolish? Can it be undone?\n\nCLEON.\nO, Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter\nThe sun", "education all the grace,\nWhich makes her both the heart and place\nOf general wonder. But, alack,\nThat monster envy, oft the wrack\nOf earned praise, Marina's life\nSeeks to take off by treason's knife.\nAnd in this kind hath our Cleon\nOne daughter, and a wench full grown,\nEven ripe for marriage-rite; this maid\nHight Philoten: and it is said\nFor certain in our story, she\nWould ever with Marina be:\nBe't when she weaved the sleided silk\n", "hath your principal made known unto you who I am?\n\nMARINA.\nWho is my principal?\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and\niniquity. O, you have heard something of my power, and so stand\naloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one,\nmy authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee.\nCome, bring me to some private place: come, come.\n\nMARINA", "go to't so young? Were you a gamester at five or at\nseven?\n\nMARINA.\nEarlier, too, sir, if now I be one.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a creature of\nsale.\n\nMARINA.\nDo you know this house to be a place of such resort, and will\ncome into 't? I hear say you are of honourable parts, and are\nthe governor of this place.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nWhy,", "\nBecoming well thy fact: what canst thou say\nWhen noble Pericles shall demand his child?\n\nDIONYZA.\nThat she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,\nTo foster it, nor ever to preserve.\nShe died at night; I'11 say so. Who can cross it?\nUnless you play the pious innocent,\nAnd for an honest attribute cry out\n'She died by foul play.'\n\nCLEON.\nO, go to. Well, well,\nOf all the faults beneath the heavens, the", "O, your sweet queen!\nThat the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,\nTo have bless'd mine eyes with her!\n\nPERICLES.\nWe cannot but obey\nThe powers above us. Could I rage and roar\nAs doth the sea she lies in, yet the end\nMust be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,\nFor she was born at sea, I have named so, here\nI charge your charity withal, leaving her\nThe infant of your care; beseeching you\nTo give her princely training", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did" ], [ "\nWhere by her own most clear remembrance, she\nMade known herself my daughter.\n\nTHAISA.\nVoice and favour!\nYou are, you are -- O royal Pericles!\n\n[Faints.]\n\nPERICLES.\nWhat means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!\n\nCERIMON.\nNoble sir,\nIf you have told Diana's altar true,\nThis is your wife.\n\nPERICLES.\nReverend appearer, no;\nI threw her overboard with these very arms.", "said you would believe me;\nBut, not to be a troubler of your peace,\nI will end here.\n\nPERICLES.\nBut are you flesh and blood?\nHave you a working pulse? and are no fairy?\nMotion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?\nAnd wherefore call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nCall'd Marina\nFor I was born at sea.\n\nPERICLES.\nAt sea! what mother?\n\nMARINA.\nMy mother was the daughter of a king;\nWho died", "Did come to see you.\n\nPERICLES.\nI embrace you.\nGive me my robes. I am wild in my beholding.\nO heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what music?\nTell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him\nO'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,\nHow sure you are my daughter. But, what music?\n\nHELICANUS.\nMy lord, I hear none.\n\nPERICLES.\nNone!\nThe music of the spheres! List, my Marina.\n\n", "elt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried\nA second time within these arms.\n\nMARINA.\nMy heart\nLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.\n\n[Kneels to Thaisa.]\n\nPERICLES.\nLook, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;\nThy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina\nFor she was yielded there.\n\nTHAISA.\nBlest, and mine own!\n\nHELICANUS.\nHail, mad", "ough doubts did ever sleep\n\nMARINA.\nFirst, sir, I pray,\nWhat is your title?\n\nPERICLES.\nI am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now\nMy drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said\nThou hast been godlike perfect,\nThe heir of kingdoms and another like\nTo Pericles thy father.\n\nMARINA.\nIs it no more to be your daughter than\nTo say my mother's name was Thaisa?\nThaisa was my mother, who did", "!\n\nTHAISA.\nThat Thaisa am I, supposed dead\nAnd drown'd.\n\nPERICLES.\nImmortal Dian!\n\nTHAISA.\nNow I know you better,\nWhen we with tears parted Pentapolis,\nThe king my father gave you such a ring.\n\n[Shows a ring.]\n\nPERICLES.\nThis, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness\nMakes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,\nThat on the touching of her lips I may\nM", ", they shall be brought you to my house,\nWhither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is\nRecovered.\n\nTHAISA.\nO, let me look!\nIf he be none of mine, my sanctity\nWill to my sense bend no licentious ear,\nBut curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,\nAre you not Pericles? Like him you spake,\nLike him you are: did you not name a tempest,\nA birth, and death?\n\nPERICLES.\nThe voice of dead Thaisa", "\n\nCERIMON.\nUpon this coast, I warrant you.\n\nPERICLES.\n'Tis most certain.\n\nCERIMON.\nLook to the lady; O, she's but o'er-joy'd.\nEarly in blustering morn this lady was\nThrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,\nFound there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her\nHere in Diana's temple.\n\nPERICLES.\nMay we see them?\n\nCERIMON.\nGreat sir", "am, and my queen!\n\nTHAISA.\nI know you not.\n\nPERICLES.\nYou have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,\nI left behind an ancient substitute:\nCan you remember what I call'd the man\nI have named him oft.\n\nTHAISA.\n'Twas Helicanus then.\n\nPERICLES.\nStill confirmation:\nEmbrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.\nNow do I long to hear how you were found:\nHow possibly preserved; and who to thank", "end\nThe minute I began.\n\nPERICLES.\nNow, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.\nGive me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;\nShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,\nBy savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;\nWhen thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge\nShe is thy very princess. Who is this?\n\nHELICANUS.\nSir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,\nWho, hearing of your melancholy state,\n", "his company.\nThat he can hither come so soon,\nIs by your fancy's thankful doom.\n\n[Exit.]\n\n\nSCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near\nthe altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side;\nCerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.\n\n[Enter Pericles, with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina,\nand a Lady.]\n\nPERICLES.\nHail, Dian! to", "the minute I was born,\nAs my good nurse Lychorida hath oft\nDeliver'd weeping.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, stop there a little!\n\n[Aside.]\n\nThis is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep\nDid mock sad fools withal: this cannot be:\nMy daughter's buried. Well: where were: you bred?\nI'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,\nAnd never interrupt you.\n\nMARINA.\nYou scorn: believe me, 'tw", "world to laugh at me.\n\nMARINA.\nPatience, good sir,\nOr here I'll cease.\n\nPERICLES.\nNay, I'll be patient.\nThou little know'st how thou dost startle me,\nTo call thyself Marina.\n\nMARINA.\nThe name\nWas given me by one that had some power,\nMy father, and a king.\n\nPERICLES.\nHow! a king's daughter?\nAnd call'd Marina?\n\nMARINA.\nYou", "endurance, thou art a man, and I\nHave suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look\nLike Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling\nExtremity out of act. What were thy friends?\nHow lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin?\nRecount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me.\n\nMARINA.\nMy name is Marina.\n\nPERICLES.\nO, I am mock'd,\nAnd thou by some incensed god sent hither\nTo make the", "seems\nYou have been noble towards her.\n\nLYSIMACHUS.\nSir, lend me your arm.\n\nPERICLES.\nCome, my Marina.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nSCENE II. Enter Gower, before the temple of Diana at Ephesus.\n\nGOWER.\nNow our sands are almost run;\nMore a little, and then dumb.\nThis, my last boon, give me,\nFor such kindness must relieve me,\nThat you aptly will suppose\nWhat pageantry, what feats, what shows", "icles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her\narms.]\n\nPERICLES.\nMost honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;\nMy twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands\nIn a litigious peace. You, and your lady,\nTake from my heart all thankfulness! The gods\nMake up the rest upon you!\n\nCLEON.\nYour shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,\nYet glance full wanderingly on us.\n\nDIONYZA.\n", "me.\nYou are like something that -- What country-woman?\nHere of these shores?\n\nMARINA.\nNo, nor of any shores:\nYet I was mortally brought forth, and am\nNo other than I appear.\n\nPERICLES.\nI am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.\nMy dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one\nMy daughter might have been: my queen's square brows;\nHer stature to an inch; as wand-like straight;\nAs silver-voiced; her eyes as", "et my good will is great, though the gift small.\n\n[Exeunt.]\n\n\nACT IV.\n\n[Enter Gower.]\n\nGOWER.\nImagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,\nWelcomed and settled to his own desire.\nHis woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,\nUnto Diana there a votaress.\nNow to Marina bend your mind,\nWhom our fast-growing scene must find\nAt Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd\nIn music, letters; who hath gain'd\nOf", "She is alive; behold,\nHer eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels\nWhich Pericles hath lost,\nBegin to part their fringes of bright gold;\nThe diamonds of a most praised water\nDo appear, to make the world twice rich.\nLive,\nAnd make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,\nRare as you seem to be.\n\n[She moves.]\n\nTHAISA.\nO dear Diana,\nWhere am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?\n\nSECOND GENTLEMAN", "\n\nPERICLES.\nHum, ha!\n\nMARINA.\nI am a maid,\nMy lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,\nBut have been gazed on like a cornet: she speaks,\nMy lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief\nMight equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.\nThough wayward fortune did malign my state,\nMy derivation was from ancestors\nWho stood equivalent with mighty kings:\nBut time hath rooted out my parentage,\nAnd to the world and" ] ]

[ "What does the riddle mean?", "Why does Pericles flee Antioch?", "Who rules Tyre while Pericles flees to Tarsus?", "Who does Pericles marry?", "How does Thaisa become a priestess after she dies?", "Why do Cleon and Dionyza plan to kill Marina?", "What work does Marina do at the brothel the pirates sell her to?", "Why is Marina reintroduced to her father?", "How does Pericles find Thaisa?", "Where the play open up?", "What will happen to those men who fail to answer the King of Antioch's riddle?", "Why can't Pericles reveal his answer? ", "How long does Antiochus give Pericles to think of the correct answer to the riddle?", "Which city does Pericles flee to after he leave Tyre?", "When in Pentapolis, Pericles enters a tournament for what kind of prize?", "Who is Marina?", "Why is Marina's life in danger while at Tarsus?", "Why are Cleon and Dionyza killed when Pericles is reunited with his wife and daughter?", "Why did Pericles not tell the king of Antioch the meaning of his riddle?", "What did the King of Antioch do when he realized Pericles figured out his ridlle?", "Where does Pericles go when his friend Helancus advises him to leave the city?", "How does Pericles help the people of Tarsus?", "Where does Pericles wash up after the storm wrecks his ship?", "What do the fishermen who rescued Pericles tell him was happening the next day?", "What happens to Thaisa while sailing to Tyre?", "Why was Thaisa's body put overboard?", "Why does Dionyza plan to murder Marina?", "How does Pericles find out Marina is still alive?" ]

[ [ "Antiochus is in an incestuous relationship with his daughter.", "Antioch has an incestuous relationship with his daughter" ], [ "He is disgusted by Antiochus' relationship with his daughter.", "Antiochus is going to kill him" ], [ "His friend Helicanus", "Helicanus" ], [ "Thaisa, daughter of Simonedes of Pentapolis", "Thaisa" ], [ "A physician revives her.", "A doctor revived her, and she thought Pericles had died in the storm, so she became a priestess." ], [ "She is more beautiful than their own daughter", "Because she is more beautiful than their daughter" ], [ "She is a tutor", "A tutor" ], [ "Lysimachus brings her in to entertain Pericles.", "Pericles' wonderings bring them back together" ], [ "The goddess Diana tells him to come to the temple in a dream", "he wins her hand in a tournament " ], [ "Court of Anitochus.", "in the court of the king of Antioch" ], [ "Death.", "they will be killed" ], [ "He fears the correct answer will get him killed.", "If he fails the riddle, he dies and if he solves it, he dies" ], [ "Forty days. ", "40 days" ], [ "Tarsus. ", "Tarsus" ], [ "The hand to the king's daughter, Thaisa. ", "The hand of the king's daughter in marriage" ], [ "Pericles' and Thaisa's daughter. ", "The daughter of Pericles" ], [ "Cleon and Dionyza plan her murder because Marina is more beautiful than their own daughter. ", "Dionyza wants to murder her" ], [ "The people of Tarsus revolt against them because for their crimes. ", "They are killed for trying to murder Marina." ], [ "Because he thought he would be killed for knowing what it meant", "Either way, he would die" ], [ "He sent assasins after Pericles.", "sends an assassain after him " ], [ "Tarsus", "Tarsus" ], [ "He gives the governer and his wife the grain from his ship.", "By giving them the grain in his ship." ], [ "the shores of Pentapolis", "The shores of Pentapolis." ], [ "The king of Pantapolis was holding a tournament to find a husband for his daughter, Thaisa.", "King Simonedes is holding a tournament" ], [ "She appears to die during childbirth.", "she gives birth and appears dead" ], [ "To calm the storm.", "The crew of the ship believe it would calm the storm." ], [ "because she is prettier than her daughter, Philoten", "She grew up to be more attractive than her own daughter." ], [ "Lysimachus brings Marina to Pericles to cheer him up.", "Lysimachus introduces them" ] ]

[ [ "it, David compared it with the\nmagnificence he had just seen. His voice choked as he answered.\n\n\"He isn't well, Lady of the Roses, and he's unhappy. He's awfully\nunhappy.\"\n\nMiss Holbrook's slender figure came up with a jerk.\n\n\"What do you mean, boy? How do you know he's unhappy? Has he said so?\"\n\n\"No; but Mrs. Holly told me about him. He's sick; and he'd just found\nhis work to do out", "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "! Who plays?\" he asked.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"Oh, the boy. You say you--took him in? By the way, what an odd little\nshaver he is! Never did I see a BOY like HIM.\" Simeon Holly's head came\nup almost aggressively.\n\n\"David is a good boy--a very good boy, indeed, John. We think a great\ndeal of him.\"\n\nJohn Holly laughed lightly, yet his brow carried a puzzled frown. Two\nthings John Holly had not been able thus far to understand:", "Where do you live?\"\n\nThe boy's face clouded.\n\n\"I'm David--just David. I live at Farmer Holly's now; but I did live on\nthe mountain with--father, you know.\"\n\nA great light of understanding broke over Miss Holbrook's face. She\ndropped back into her seat.\n\n\"Oh, I remember,\" she murmured. \"You're the little--er--boy whom he\ntook. I have heard the story. So THAT is who you are,\" she added, the\nold look of aversion coming", "\"Why, I--I don't know, David,\" murmured Mrs. Holly, with a helpless\nglance at her husband stalking on ahead. \"I--I didn't know there were\nsuch things to--to know.\"\n\nThere was more, much more, that David said before the walk came to an\nend. And though, when it did end, neither Simeon Holly nor his wife\nsaid a word of its having been a pleasure or a profit, there was yet on\ntheir faces something of the peace and rest and quietness that belonged\nto the woods they had left", "smiles, and her last\nadoring glance was for David, waving his hand to her from the porch\nsteps.\n\nIn the afternoon David took his violin and went off toward the hill\nbehind the house for a walk. He had asked Mrs. Holly to accompany him,\nbut she had refused, though she was not sweeping or dusting at the\ntime. She was doing nothing more important, apparently, than making\nholes in a piece of white cloth, and sewing them up again with a needle\nand thread.\n\nDavid had then asked Mr. Holly to go; but his", "him.\n\nThere were times, to be sure, when there was nothing but rejoicing\nwithin him that he was able thus to aid the Hollys. There were other\ntimes when there was nothing but the sore heartache because of the\ngreat work out in the beautiful world that could now never be done; and\nbecause of the unlovely work at hand that must be done. To tell the\ntruth, indeed, David's entire conception of life had become suddenly a\nchaos of puzzling contradictions.\n\nTo Mr. Jack, one day, David went with his per", "But Mrs. Holly, with a vexed gesture, stopped him.\n\n\"Never mind, little boy. I might have known--brought up as you have\nbeen. Of course you could not appreciate such things as these. Throw\nthem away, indeed!\" And she fell to work again; but this time her\nfingers carried a something in their touch that was almost like the\ncaress a mother might bestow upon an aggrieved child.\n\nDavid, vaguely disturbed and uncomfortable, watched her with troubled\neyes; then, apologetically, he", "world through\nDavid's eyes.\n\nNor were these all of David's friends to whom Mr. and Mrs. Holly were\nintroduced on that memorable walk. There were the birds, and the\nsquirrels, and, in fact, everything that had life. And each one he\ngreeted joyously by name, as he would greet a friend whose home and\nhabits he knew. Here was a wonderful woodpecker, there was a beautiful\nbluejay. Ahead, that brilliant bit of color that flashed across their\npath was a tanager. Once,", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "work about the house. Did you never do any of that?\"\n\nDavid gave a relieved laugh.\n\n\"Oh, you mean getting the meals and tidying up the house,\" he replied.\n\"Oh, yes, I did that with father, only\"--his face grew wistful--\"I'm\nafraid I didn't do it very well. My bacon was never as nice and crisp\nas father's, and the fire was always spoiling my potatoes.\"\n\n\"Humph! bacon and potatoes, indeed!\" scorned Simeon Holly. \"Well", "no time in looking about for some one to\ntake the boy away.\n\nOn that first day Higgins, picking up the reins preparatory to driving\nfrom the yard, had said, with a nod of his head toward David:--\n\n\"Well, how about it, Holly? Shall we leave him here till we find\nsomebody that wants him?\"\n\n\"Why, y--yes, I suppose so,\" hesitated Simeon Holly, with uncordial\naccent.\n\nBut his wife, hovering in the background, hastened forward at once.\n\n\"Oh", "like terror.\n\nDavid, left alone, went on his way with troubled eyes and a thoughtful\nfrown.\n\nDavid often wore, during those first few days at the Holly farmhouse, a\nthoughtful face and a troubled frown. There were so many, many things\nthat were different from his mountain home. Over and over, as those\nfirst long days passed, he read his letter until he knew it by\nheart--and he had need to. Was he not already surrounded by things and\npeople that were strange to him?\n\nAnd they were so very strange--the", "and the birds and squirrels and brooks are really in my\nviolin, you know. And--\" But with an angry frown Simeon Holly stalked\naway, motioning Larson to follow him; and with a merry glance and a low\nchuckle Higgins turned his horse about and drove from the yard. A\nmoment later David found himself alone with Mrs. Holly, who was looking\nat him with wistful, though slightly fearful eyes.\n\n\"Did you have all the breakfast you wanted?\" she asked timidly,\nresorting,", "imeon Holly,\nwith harsh impatience. \"I mean, did he never set you to work--real\nwork?\"\n\n\"Work?\" David meditated again. Then suddenly his face cleared. \"Oh,\nyes, sir, he said I had a beautiful work to do, and that it was waiting\nfor me out in the world. That's why we came down from the mountain, you\nknow, to find it. Is that what you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, no,\" retorted the man, \"I can't say that it was. I was referring\nto work--real", "a secret worth the telling. Even Simeon\nHolly glowed into a semblance of life when David had unerringly picked\nout and called by name the spruce, and fir, and pine, and larch, and\nthen, in answer to Mrs. Holly's murmured: \"But, David, where's the\ndifference? They look so much alike!\" he had said:--\n\n\"Oh, but they aren't, you know. Just see how much more pointed at the\ntop that fir is than that spruce back there; and the branches grow\n", "Mrs. Holly's tear-wet, yet radiant face, he collapsed\nlimply.\n\n\"Gosh!\" he muttered. \"Say, do you know, I didn't s'pose I did care so\nmuch! I reckon I'll go an' tell Mr. Jack. He'll want ter hear.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nPUZZLES\n\nDavid's convalescence was picturesque, in a way. As soon as he was\nable, like a king he sat upon his throne and received his subjects; and\na", ", and he had not seen much of them when he went\nwith his father to the mountain village for supplies. There had been,\nit is true, the boy who frequently brought milk and eggs to the cabin;\nbut he had been very quiet and shy, appearing always afraid and anxious\nto get away, as if he had been told not to stay. More recently, since\nDavid had been at the Holly farmhouse, his experience with boys had\nbeen even less satisfying. The boys--with the exception of blind\nJoe--had very clearly let it be understood that they had little use for\na youth", "\"But my song--I'd have lost it!\" he exclaimed. \"And father said always\nwhen a song came to me to play it at once. Songs are like the mists of\nthe morning and the rainbows, you know, and they don't stay with you\nlong. You just have to catch them quick, before they go. Now, don't you\nsee?\"\n\nBut Simeon Holly, with a despairingly scornful gesture, had turned\naway; and David, after a moment's following him with wistful eyes,\nsoberly walked" ], [ "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you.", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "even to\ntouch his violin. Then, very suddenly, he, with his four-year-old son,\ndisappeared--dropped quite out of sight. Some people guessed the\nreason. I knew a man who was well acquainted with him, and at the time\nof the disappearance he told me quite a lot about him. He said he was\nn't a bit surprised at what had happened. That already half a dozen\nrelatives were interfering with the way he wanted to bring the boy up,\nand that David was in a fair way to be spoiled, even then", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "choosing. For six years that father\nhad thought, planned, breathed, moved, lived for his son. There had\nbeen no others in the little cabin. There had been only the occasional\ntrips through the woods to the little town on the mountain-side for\nfood and clothing, to break the days of close companionship.\n\nAll this the man had planned carefully. He had meant that only the good\nand beautiful should have place in David's youth. It was not that he\nintended that evil, unhappiness, and death should lack definition, only\ndefiniteness, in", "They, too,\nnever raised their eyes to the blue sky outside, nor even to the\ncrimson roses that peeped in at the window. They seemed rather to be\nlooking always for dirt, yet not pleased when they found it--especially\nif it had been tracked in on the heel of a small boy's shoe!\n\nMore extraordinary than all this to David, however, was the fact that\nthese people regarded HIM, not themselves, as being strange. As if it\nwere not the most natural thing in the world to live with one's father\nin one'", "started.\n\n\"Er--nothing; nothing that you would understand, David. Go on--with\nwhat you were saying.\"\n\n\"There isn't any more. It's all done. It's only that I'm wondering how\nI'm going to learn here that it's a beautiful world, so that I\ncan--tell father.\"\n\nMr. Jack roused himself. He had the air of a man who determinedly\nthrows to one side a heavy burden.\n\n\"Well, David,\" he smiled, \"as I said before, you are still", "refusal was even more\nstrangely impatient than his wife's had been.\n\n\"And why, pray, should I go for a useless walk now--or any time, for\nthat matter?\" he demanded sharply.\n\nDavid had shrunk back unconsciously, though he had still smiled.\n\n\"Oh, but it wouldn't be a useless walk, sir. Father said nothing was\nuseless that helped to keep us in tune, you know.\"\n\n\"In tune!\"\n\n\"I mean, you looked as father used to look sometimes, when he felt out\nof tune", "he added, his eyes on the cause of the\ntrouble, now curled in a little gray bunch of content on the window\nsill. \"But I don't know yet who you are. Who is your father? Where does\nhe live?\"\n\nDavid shook his head. As was always the case when his father was\nmentioned, his face grew wistful and his eyes dreamy.\n\n\"He doesn't live here anywhere,\" murmured the boy. \"In the far country\nhe is waiting for me to come to him and tell him of the beautiful world\nI have found,", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "istine Madonna, packing\nthem neatly away in a box to be left. From beneath his bunk he dragged\na large, dusty traveling-bag, and in this he stowed a little food, a\nfew garments, and a great deal of the music scattered about the room.\n\nDavid, in the doorway, stared in dazed wonder. Gradually into his eyes\ncrept a look never seen there before.\n\n\"Father, where are we going?\" he asked at last in a shaking voice, as\nhe came slowly into the room.\n\n\"Back, son", "all this, too, was on David's\nuplifted, rapturous face.\n\nAs the last rose-glow turned to gray and the last strain quivered into\nsilence, the man spoke. His voice was almost harsh with self-control.\n\n\"David, the time has come. We'll have to give it up--you and I.\"\n\nThe boy turned wonderingly, his face still softly luminous.\n\n\"Give what up?\"\n\n\"This--all this.\"\n\n\"This! Why, father, what do you mean", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from", "Y WANTED HIM. He had heard it\nwith his own ears, so there was no mistake. What now about all those\nlong days and nights ahead before he might go, violin in hand, to meet\nhis father in that far-away country? How was he to live those days and\nnights if nobody wanted him? How was his violin to speak in a voice\nthat was true and pure and full, and tell of the beautiful world, as\nhis father had said that it must do? David quite cried aloud at the\nthought. Then he thought of something else that his" ], [ ", with so much\nattention and flattery. The father had determined to make a wonderful\nartist of his son, and he was known to have said that he believed--as\ndo so many others--that the first dozen years of a child's life are the\nmaking of the man, and that if he could have the boy to himself that\nlong he would risk the rest. So it seems he carried out his notion\nuntil he was taken sick, and had to quit--poor chap!\"\n\n\"But why didn't he tell us plainly in that note who he was, then?\"", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "on appeared on the kitchen\nporch.\n\n\"Very little. Really nothing of importance,\" answered Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Where is he now?\"\n\n\"Why, he was here on the steps a few minutes ago.\" Simeon Holly looked\nabout him a bit impatiently.\n\n\"Well, I want to see him. I've got a letter for him.\"\n\n\"A letter!\" exclaimed Simeon Holly and Larson in amazed unison.\n\n\"Yes. Found it in his father's pocket,\" nodded the coroner, with all\nthe", ". He wrote it to me.\"\n\n\"Wrote it to you!\" cried the man, sitting suddenly erect.\n\n\"Yes. It was in his pocket, you see. They--found it.\" David's voice was\nvery low, and not quite steady.\n\n\"David, may I see--that letter?\"\n\nThe boy hesitated; then slowly he drew it from his pocket.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Jack. I'll let YOU see it.\"\n\nReverently, tenderly, but very eagerly the man took the note and read\nit through, hoping somewhere", "\nof a father's thought for the young eyes that would read it. It was\nwritten on two of the notebook's leaves, and at the end came the single\nword \"Daddy.\"\n\n\nDavid, my boy [read Higgins aloud], in the far country I am waiting for\nyou. Do not grieve, for that will grieve me. I shall not return, but\nsome day you will come to me, your violin at your chin, and the bow\ndrawn across the strings to greet me. See that it tells me of the\nbeautiful world", "Father, what DOES it mean?\"\n\nObediently Simeon Holly told the story then, more fully than he had\ntold it before. He brought forward the letter, too, with its mysterious\nsignature.\n\n\"Perhaps you can make it out, son,\" he laughed. \"None of the rest of us\ncan, though I haven't shown it to anybody now for a long time. I got\ndiscouraged long ago of anybody's ever making it out.\"\n\n\"Make it out--make it out!\" cried John Holly excitedly; \"I should", "you,\" finished the man, a\nlittle explosively.\n\nA swift shadow crossed the boy's face.\n\n\"Oh, I hoped I'd heard--\" he began. Then suddenly he stopped, his face\nonce more alight. \"But it's 'most the same as if he wrote it from\nthere, isn't it? He left it for me, and he told me what to do.\"\n\n\"What's that, what's that?\" cried Higgins, instantly alert. \"DID he\ntell you what to do? Then, let", "\nsplendor of it. They saw the shining wonder of his eyes, too, as he\nlooked up from the letter.\n\n\"And daddy wrote this to me from the far country?\" he breathed.\n\nSimeon Holly scowled. Larson choked over a stifled chuckle. William\nStreeter stared and shrugged his shoulders; but Higgins flushed a dull\nred.\n\n\"No, sonny,\" he stammered. \"We found it on the--er--I mean,\nit--er--your father left it in his pocket for", "the\npoint of his knife under the flap of the envelope. \"We'll see what--he\nsays.\" And to hear him, one might have thought that letters from John\nwere everyday occurrences.\n\n\nDEAR FATHER: Twice before I have written [ran the letter], and received\nno answer. But I'm going to make one more effort for forgiveness. May I\nnot come to you this Christmas? I have a little boy of my own now, and\nmy heart aches for you. I know how I should feel, should he, in years\n", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "tantalizing brevity of a man who knows he has a choice morsel of\ninformation that is eagerly awaited. \"It's addressed to 'My boy David,'\nso I calculated we'd better give it to him first without reading it,\nseeing it's his. After he reads it, though, I want to see it. I want to\nsee if what it says is any nearer being horse-sense than the other one\nis.\"\n\n\"The other one!\" exclaimed the amazed chorus again.\n\n\"Oh, yes, there's", "another one,\" spoke up William Streeter tersely. \"And\nI've read it--all but the scrawl at the end. There couldn't anybody\nread that!\" Higgins laughed.\n\n\"Well, I'm free to confess 't is a sticker--that name,\" he admitted.\n\"And it's the name we want, of course, to tell us who they are--since\nit seems the boy don't know, from what you said last night. I was in\nhopes, by this morning, you'd have found out more from him", "\nfumed Simeon Holly, in manifest irritation.\n\n\"He did, he thought,\" laughed the other. \"He signed his name, and he\nsupposed that was so well known that just to mention it would be\nenough. That's why he kept it so secret while he was living on the\nmountain, you see, and that's why even David himself didn't know it. Of\ncourse, if anybody found out who he was, that ended his scheme, and he\nknew it. So he supposed all he had to do at the last was to sign his", "I want to see the inside of that letter to HIM. I'm relying\non that being some help to unsnarl this tangle of telling who they are.\"\n\n\"Well, he's started,\" reiterated Mrs. Holly, as she turned back into\nthe house; \"so I guess he'll get here if you wait long enough.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, he'll get here if we wait long enough,\" echoed Simeon Holly\nagain, crustily.\n\nThe two men in the wagon settled themselves more comfortably in their\nseats,", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "the world, I\nhave set out for that purpose.\n\nBut I am ill--very ill, and should Death have swifter feet than I, I\nmust leave my task for others to complete. Deal gently with him. He\nknows only that which is good and beautiful. He knows nothing of sin\nnor evil.\n\n\nThen followed the signature--a thing of scrawls and flourishes that\nconveyed no sort of meaning to Simeon Holly's puzzled eyes.\n\n\"Well?\" prompted Higgins expectantly.\n\nSimeon Holly shook his", "\nname to that note, and everybody would know who he was, and David would\nat once be sent to his own people. (There's an aunt and some cousins, I\nbelieve.) You see he didn't reckon on nobody's being able to READ his\nname! Besides, being so ill, he probably wasn't quite sane, anyway.\"\n\n\"I see, I see,\" nodded Simeon Holly, frowning a little. \"And of course\nif we had made it out, some of us here would have known it, probably.\nNow that you call", "'s have it, so WE'LL know. You will let\nus read it, won't you, boy?\"\n\n\"Why, y--yes,\" stammered David, holding it out politely, but with\nevident reluctance.\n\n\"Thank you,\" nodded Higgins, as he reached for the note.\n\nDavid's letter was very different from the other one. It was longer,\nbut it did not help much, though it was easily read. In his letter, in\nspite of the wavering lines, each word was formed with a care that told", "The letter? Oh, you're welcome to read the letter,\" he said, as he\nhanded over a bit of folded paper.\n\nSimeon took it gingerly and examined it.\n\nIt was a leaf torn apparently from a note book. It was folded three\ntimes, and bore on the outside the superscription \"To whom it may\nconcern.\" The handwriting was peculiar, irregular, and not very\nlegible. But as near as it could be deciphered, the note ran thus:--\n\n\nNow that the time has come when I must give David back to", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo," ], [ ", David did not know. If he found a kitten\nat play in the sunshine, he put it into a riotous abandonment of\ntumbling turns and trills--that a fretful baby heard and stopped its\nwailing, David also did not know. And once, just because the sky was\nblue and the air was sweet, and it was so good to be alive, David\nlifted his bow and put it all into a rapturous paean of ringing\nexultation--that a sick man in a darkened chamber above the street\nlifted", "music, and was crazy over David's violin; so David took down his other\none--the one that was his father's, you know--and showed him how to\npick out little tunes, just to take up his time so he wouldn't mind so\nmuch that he couldn't see. Now, Jack, wasn't that just like David?\nJack, I can't have anything happen to David!\"\n\n\"No, dear, no; of course not! I'm afraid we can't any of us, for that\nmatter,\" sighed Jack,", "that he placed before the boy one sheet of music after another,\nbegging and still begging for more.\n\nDavid, nothing loath, played on and on. Most of the music he knew,\nhaving already learned it in his mountain home. Like old friends the\nmelodies seemed, and so glad was David to see their notes again that he\nfinished each production with a little improvised cadenza of ecstatic\nwelcome--to Mr. Jack's increasing surprise and delight.\n\n\"Great Scott! you're a wonder, David,\" he exclaimed, at last.", "ings besides squirrels and roses; and that\nwas--people. In spite of the strangeness of these people, they were\nwonderfully interesting, David thought. And after that he turned his\nsteps more and more frequently toward the village when four o'clock\nreleased him from the day's work.\n\nAt first David did not talk much to these people. He shrank sensitively\nfrom their bold stares and unpleasantly audible comments. He watched\nthem with round eyes of wonder and interest, however,--when he did not\nthink they were watching him", "chanting here than when seen from afar over the tree-tops, and David\ngazed up at them in awed wonder. From somewhere came the sound of\nmusic--a curious sort of music that David had never heard before. He\nlistened intently, trying to place it; then slowly he crossed the lawn,\nascended the imposing stone steps, and softly opened one of the narrow\nscreen doors before the wide-open French window.\n\nOnce within the room David drew a long breath of ecstasy. Beneath his\nfeet he felt the velvet softness of the", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "\n\"Yes, oh, yes, I'll play,\" faltered David, bringing his violin hastily\nto position, and testing the strings with fingers that shook a little.\n\n\"There!\" breathed Joe, settling back in his chair with a contented\nsigh. \"Now, play it again--what you did before.\"\n\nBut David did not play what he did before--at first. There were no airy\ncloud-boats, no far-reaching sky, no birds, or murmuring forest brooks\nin his music this time. There were only the poverty-", ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "\"You mean, I shall go away and study--practice--learn more of my\nviolin?\"\n\n\"Yes, David.\"\n\n\"And hear beautiful music like the organ in church, only\nmore--bigger--better?\"\n\n\"I suppose so.\".\n\n\"And know people--dear people--who will understand what I say when I\nplay?\"\n\nSimeon Holly's face paled a little; still, he knew David had not meant\nto make it so hard.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why, it's my 'start", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you", "understand?\"\n\n\"New--to play?\"\n\n\"Yes--on my violin,\" explained David, a little breathlessly, softly\ntesting his violin. \"There's always something new in this, you know,\"\nhe hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, \"when there's\nanything new outside. Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how\nit's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out.\" And with a\njoyously rapt face he began to play.\n\n\"But, see here,", "his violin for company David started out each day, unless he\nelected to stay indoors with his books. Sometimes it was toward the\nvillage that he turned his steps; sometimes it was toward the hills\nback of the town. Whichever way it was, there was always sure to be\nsomething waiting at the end for him and his violin to discover, if it\nwas nothing more than a big white rose in bloom, or a squirrel sitting\nby the roadside.\n\nVery soon, however, David discovered that there was something to be\nfound in his wander", "-reaching meadow was more than grass, and that the purple haze along\nthe horizon was more than the mountains that lay between them and the\nnext State. They were beginning to see the world with David's eyes.\n\nThere were, too, the long twilights and evenings when David, on the\nwings of his violin, would speed away to his mountain home, leaving\nbehind him a man and a woman who seemed to themselves to be listening\nto the voice of a curly-headed, rosy-cheeked lad who once played at\ntheir knees and", "Sometimes it's kids that he's played to, an' I'll be\ntriggered if one of 'em one day didn't have no excuse to offer except\nthat David had fit him--'bout a cat, or somethin'--an' that ever since\nthen he'd thought a heap of him--though he guessed David didn't know\nit. Listen ter that, will ye!\n\n\"An' once a woman held me up, an' took on turrible, but all I could git\nfrom her was that he'd sat on her doorstep an", "take up my violin and tell you about it!\"\n\n\"But it's Sunday--the Lord's Day,\" remonstrated the man sternly.\n\nDavid stood motionless, his eyes questioning.\n\n\"Are you quite a heathen, then?\" catechised the man sharply. \"Have they\nnever told you anything about God, boy?\"\n\n\"Oh, 'God'?--of course,\" smiled David, in open relief. \"God wraps up\nthe buds in their little brown blankets, and covers the roots with--\"\n\n\"I am not", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on", ", and they\nfell into most disconcerting fits of laughter, or else backed away as\nif afraid, when he told them that they themselves were instruments in\nit, and that if they did not keep themselves in tune, there was sure to\nbe a discord somewhere.\n\nThen there were their games and frolics. Such as were played with\nballs, bats, and bags of beans, David thought he would like very much.\nBut the boys only scoffed when he asked them to teach him how to play.\nThey laughed when a dog chased a cat, and", ". \"He's found his work--don't you\nsee?--out in the world, and he's going to do it. I know how I'd feel if\nI had found mine that father told me of! Only what I can't understand\nis, if Mr. Jack knew all this yesterday, why did n't he act like this\nthen, instead of waiting till to-day?\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Jill.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nTHE BEAUTIFUL WORLD\n\nDavid found many new songs in his violin", "\"Oh!\"--and David's face cleared. \"That's all right, then. Your God\nisn't the same one, sir, for mine loves all beautiful things every day\nin the year.\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence. For the first time in his life Simeon\nHolly found himself without words.\n\n\"We won't talk of this any more, David,\" he said at last; \"but we'll\nput it another way--I don't wish you to play your fiddle on Sunday.\nNow, put it up till to-" ], [ "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "laughing now. He was watching his father with startled\neyes. David had not known what anxiety was. He was finding out\nnow--though he but vaguely realized that something was not right. For\nsome time his father had said but little, and that little had been in a\nvoice that was thick and unnatural-sounding. He was walking fast, yet\nDavid noticed that every step seemed an effort, and that every breath\ncame in short gasps. His eyes were very bright, and were fixedly bent\non the road ahead, as if even the haste he was making was", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "They, too,\nnever raised their eyes to the blue sky outside, nor even to the\ncrimson roses that peeped in at the window. They seemed rather to be\nlooking always for dirt, yet not pleased when they found it--especially\nif it had been tracked in on the heel of a small boy's shoe!\n\nMore extraordinary than all this to David, however, was the fact that\nthese people regarded HIM, not themselves, as being strange. As if it\nwere not the most natural thing in the world to live with one's father\nin one'", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "he added, his eyes on the cause of the\ntrouble, now curled in a little gray bunch of content on the window\nsill. \"But I don't know yet who you are. Who is your father? Where does\nhe live?\"\n\nDavid shook his head. As was always the case when his father was\nmentioned, his face grew wistful and his eyes dreamy.\n\n\"He doesn't live here anywhere,\" murmured the boy. \"In the far country\nhe is waiting for me to come to him and tell him of the beautiful world\nI have found,", "\n\"But, David,\"--the man was speaking very gently now. He had motioned\nthe boy to a low seat by his side. The little girl was standing near,\nher eyes alight with wondering interest. \"He must have had a name, you\nknow, just the same. Didn't you ever hear any one call him anything?\nThink, now.\"\n\n\"No.\" David said the single word, and turned his eyes away. It had\noccurred to him, since he had come to live in the valley, that perhaps\nhis father did not want to have his name", "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "The letter? Oh, you're welcome to read the letter,\" he said, as he\nhanded over a bit of folded paper.\n\nSimeon took it gingerly and examined it.\n\nIt was a leaf torn apparently from a note book. It was folded three\ntimes, and bore on the outside the superscription \"To whom it may\nconcern.\" The handwriting was peculiar, irregular, and not very\nlegible. But as near as it could be deciphered, the note ran thus:--\n\n\nNow that the time has come when I must give David back to", "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you.", "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "refusal was even more\nstrangely impatient than his wife's had been.\n\n\"And why, pray, should I go for a useless walk now--or any time, for\nthat matter?\" he demanded sharply.\n\nDavid had shrunk back unconsciously, though he had still smiled.\n\n\"Oh, but it wouldn't be a useless walk, sir. Father said nothing was\nuseless that helped to keep us in tune, you know.\"\n\n\"In tune!\"\n\n\"I mean, you looked as father used to look sometimes, when he felt out\nof tune", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "!\" laughed David. \"We don't need that.\" And he laughed again,\nfor pure joy. Little use had David for bags or baggage!\n\nThey were more than halfway down the mountain now, and soon they\nreached a grass-grown road, little traveled, but yet a road. Still\nlater they came to where four ways crossed, and two of them bore the\nmarks of many wheels. By sundown the little brook at their side\nmurmured softly of quiet fields and meadows, and David knew that the\nvalley was reached.\n\nDavid was not", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from" ], [ "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "another one,\" he\ncried exultingly. \"This is where the wind sighs, 'oou--OOU--OOU'\nthrough the pines. Listen!\" And he was away again on the wings of his\nviolin. When he had returned Mr. Jack drew a long breath.\n\n\"David, you are a wonder,\" he declared again. \"And that violin of yours\nis a wonder, too, if I'm not mistaken,--though I don't know enough to\ntell whether it's really a rare one or not. Was it your father's", "music, and was crazy over David's violin; so David took down his other\none--the one that was his father's, you know--and showed him how to\npick out little tunes, just to take up his time so he wouldn't mind so\nmuch that he couldn't see. Now, Jack, wasn't that just like David?\nJack, I can't have anything happen to David!\"\n\n\"No, dear, no; of course not! I'm afraid we can't any of us, for that\nmatter,\" sighed Jack,", "\"Father's.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" He hesitated; then, a little severely, he observed: \"This is a\nfine instrument, boy,--a very fine instrument.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David, with a cheerful smile. \"Father said it was. I like\nit, too. This is an Amati, but the other is a Stradivarius. I don't\nknow which I do like best, sometimes, only this is mine.\"\n\nWith a half-smothered ejaculation John Holly fell back limply.\n\n\"Then you--", "understand?\"\n\n\"New--to play?\"\n\n\"Yes--on my violin,\" explained David, a little breathlessly, softly\ntesting his violin. \"There's always something new in this, you know,\"\nhe hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, \"when there's\nanything new outside. Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how\nit's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out.\" And with a\njoyously rapt face he began to play.\n\n\"But, see here,", "\n\"Yes, oh, yes, I'll play,\" faltered David, bringing his violin hastily\nto position, and testing the strings with fingers that shook a little.\n\n\"There!\" breathed Joe, settling back in his chair with a contented\nsigh. \"Now, play it again--what you did before.\"\n\nBut David did not play what he did before--at first. There were no airy\ncloud-boats, no far-reaching sky, no birds, or murmuring forest brooks\nin his music this time. There were only the poverty-", "take up my violin and tell you about it!\"\n\n\"But it's Sunday--the Lord's Day,\" remonstrated the man sternly.\n\nDavid stood motionless, his eyes questioning.\n\n\"Are you quite a heathen, then?\" catechised the man sharply. \"Have they\nnever told you anything about God, boy?\"\n\n\"Oh, 'God'?--of course,\" smiled David, in open relief. \"God wraps up\nthe buds in their little brown blankets, and covers the roots with--\"\n\n\"I am not", "strings he\nfound the means to say that which his tongue could not express.\n\nAcross the valley the grays and blues of the mountains had become all\npurples now. Above, the sky in one vast flame of crimson and gold, was\na molten sea on which floated rose-pink cloud-boats. Below, the valley\nwith its lake and river picked out in rose and gold against the shadowy\ngreens of field and forest, seemed like some enchanted fairyland of\nloveliness.\n\nAnd all this was in David's violin, and", ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", "\"I think it would, David, if there were enough of them.\"\n\n\"Many as a hundred?\"\n\n\"Sure--if they were big enough. Anyway, David, they'd start you, and\nI'm thinking you wouldn't need but a start before you'd be coining\ngold-pieces of your own out of that violin of yours. But why? Anybody\nyou know got as 'many as a hundred' gold-pieces he wants to get rid of?\"\n\nFor a moment David, his delighted thoughts flying to the gold-pieces in\nthe", "had David played as he played then. It was as if\nupon those four quivering strings, he was laying the purple and gold of\na thousand sunsets, the rose and amber of a thousand sunrises, the\ngreen of a boundless earth, the blue of a sky that reached to heaven\nitself--to make Joe understand.\n\n\"Gee!\" breathed Joe, when the music came to an end with a crashing\nchord. \"Say, wa'n't that just great? Won't you let me, please, just\ntouch that fiddle", "not haste\nenough. Twice David spoke to him, but he did not answer; and the boy\ncould only trudge along on his weary little feet and sigh for the dear\nhome on the mountain-top which they had left behind them the morning\nbefore.\n\nThey met few fellow travelers, and those they did meet paid scant\nattention to the man and the boy carrying the violins. As it chanced,\nthere was no one in sight when the man, walking in the grass at the\nside of the road, stumbled and fell heavily to the ground.\n\nDavid", "he came to drawing a timid bow across\nthe strings. In an incredibly short time, then, he was picking out bits\nof melody; and by the end of a fortnight David had brought his father's\nviolin for Joe to practice on.\n\n\"I can't GIVE it to you--not for keeps,\" David had explained, a bit\ntremulously, \"because it was daddy's, you know; and when I see it, it\nseems almost as if I was seeing him. But you may take it. Then you can\nhave it here to play", "do--know?\" he challenged.\n\n\"Know--what?\"\n\n\"The value of that violin in your hands.\"\n\nThere was no answer. The boy's eyes were questioning.\n\n\"The worth, I mean,--what it's worth.\"\n\n\"Why, no--yes--that is, it's worth everything--to me,\" answered David,\nin a puzzled voice.\n\nWith an impatient gesture John Holly brushed this aside.\n\n\"But the other one--where is that?\"\n\n\"At Joe Glaspell's. I gave", "\n\n\"Does he?\" beamed David. \"But--\" He paused, listening, a quick frown on\nhis face.\n\nOver and over the violin was playing a single phrase--and the\nvariations in the phrase showed the indecision of the fingers and of\nthe mind that controlled them. Again and again with irritating\nsameness, yet with a still more irritating difference, came the\nsuccession of notes. And then David sprang to his feet, placing\nJuliette somewhat unceremoniously on the floor, much to that petted\nyoung", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on", "at what he\nfancied would come from a violin played by a boy like the one before\nhim. (Jack could play the violin himself a little--enough to know it\nsome, and love it more.) \"Hm-m; well, and what else do you do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, except to go for walks and read.\"\n\n\"Nothing!--a big boy like you--and on Simeon Holly's farm?\" Voice and\nmanner showed that Jack was not unacquainted with Simeon Holly and his\nmethods and opinions.\n\nDavid laughed gle", "his violin for company David started out each day, unless he\nelected to stay indoors with his books. Sometimes it was toward the\nvillage that he turned his steps; sometimes it was toward the hills\nback of the town. Whichever way it was, there was always sure to be\nsomething waiting at the end for him and his violin to discover, if it\nwas nothing more than a big white rose in bloom, or a squirrel sitting\nby the roadside.\n\nVery soon, however, David discovered that there was something to be\nfound in his wander", "counted by the dial,\"\nshe explained a little fretfully.\n\nDavid's face radiated delight.\n\n\"Oh, but I like that!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"You like it!\"\n\n\"Yes. I should like to be one myself, you know.\"\n\n\"Well, really! And how, pray?\" In spite of herself a faint gleam of\ninterest came into Miss Holbrook's eyes.\n\nDavid laughed and dropped himself easily to the ground at her feet. He\nwas holding his violin on his knees now.\n\n\"Why, it would", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you" ], [ "to come, do as I did.\n\nI'll not deceive you--I have not given up my art. You told me once to\nchoose between you and it--and I chose, I suppose; at least, I ran\naway. Yet in the face of all that, I ask you again, may I not come to\nyou at Christmas? I want you, father, and I want mother. And I want you\nto see my boy.\n\n\n\"Well?\" said Simeon Holly, trying to speak with a steady coldness that\nwould not show how deeply moved he", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "The letter? Oh, you're welcome to read the letter,\" he said, as he\nhanded over a bit of folded paper.\n\nSimeon took it gingerly and examined it.\n\nIt was a leaf torn apparently from a note book. It was folded three\ntimes, and bore on the outside the superscription \"To whom it may\nconcern.\" The handwriting was peculiar, irregular, and not very\nlegible. But as near as it could be deciphered, the note ran thus:--\n\n\nNow that the time has come when I must give David back to", "Holly and his wife.\n\nFor a time neither the man nor the woman could speak. There was nothing\nin their humdrum, habit-smoothed tilling of the soil and washing of\npots and pans to prepare them for a scene like this--a moonlit barn, a\nstrange dead man, and that dead man's son babbling of brooks and\nsquirrels, and playing jigs on a fiddle for a dirge. At last, however,\nSimeon found his voice.\n\n\"Boy, boy, stop that!\" he thund", "--though she was not more surprised than was Larson himself. For\nboth of them, however, there came at this moment a still greater\nsurprise. Simeon Holly leaned forward suddenly, the stern lines quite\ngone from his lips, and his face working with emotion as he drew David\ntoward him.\n\n\"You're a good son, boy,--a good loyal son; and--and I wish you were\nmine! I believe you. He didn't steal it, and I won't steal it, either.\nBut I will use it, since you are so", "mean that he has gone--like the water in\nthe brook--to the far country?\" he faltered.\n\nSimeon Holly stared. Then he said more distinctly:--\n\n\"Your father is dead, boy.\"\n\n\"And he won't come back any more?\" David's voice broke now.\n\nThere was no answer. Mrs. Holly caught her breath convulsively and\nlooked away. Even Simeon Holly refused to meet the boy's pleading eyes.\n\nWith a quick cry David sprang to his father's side.\n\n\"But", "ost\nson John came to the Holly farmhouse.\n\nDownstairs in the kitchen, Simeon Holly stood, with the letter in his\nhand.\n\n\"Ellen, we've got a letter from--John,\" he said. That Simeon Holly\nspoke of it at all showed how very far along HIS unfamiliar way he had\ncome since the last letter from John had arrived.\n\n\"From--John? Oh, Simeon! From John?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nSimeon sat down and tried to hide the shaking of his hand as he ran", "ful boy and runaway son,\nhowever, that Simeon Holly and his wife were thinking, as they stood\njust inside the barn door; it was of Baby John, the little curly-headed\nfellow that had played at their knees, frolicked in this very barn, and\nnestled in their arms when the day was done.\n\nMrs. Holly spoke first--and it was not as she had spoken on the porch.\n\n\"Simeon,\" she began tremulously, \"that dear child must go to bed!\" And\nshe hurried across the floor and up the", "would at least give it to him, and let him go away now to\nthat beautiful music he was to hear, and to those kind people who were\nalways to understand what he said when he played.\n\n\"Of course,\" ventured Perry Larson diffidently, \"I ain't professin' ter\nknow any great shakes about the hand of the Lord, Mr. Holly, but it do\nstrike me that this 'ere gold comes mighty near bein'\nproverdential--fur you.\"\n\nSimeon Holly fell back in his seat. His eyes clung to", "at last, breaking a\nlong silence that had fallen between them. \"What can we do with him?\nDoesn't anybody want him?\"\n\n\"No, of course, nobody wants him,\" retorted her husband relentlessly.\n\nAnd at the words a small figure in a yellow-white nightshirt stopped\nshort. David, violin in hand, had fled from the little hot room, and\nstood now just inside the kitchen door.\n\n\"Who can want a child that has been brought up in that heathenish\nfashion?\" continued Simeon Holly. \"According to", "was. \"Well, Ellen?\"\n\n\"Yes, Simeon, yes!\" choked his wife, a world of mother-love and longing\nin her pleading eyes and voice. \"Yes--you'll let it be--'Yes'!\"\n\n\"Uncle Simeon, Aunt Ellen,\" called David, clattering down the stairs\nfrom his room, \"I've found such a beautiful song in my violin, and I'm\ngoing to play it over and over so as to be sure and remember it for\nfather--for it is a beautiful world, Uncle Sime", "her face, drawn and\ntear-stained, and asked a trembling question.\n\n\"Simeon, have you thought? We might go--to John--for--help.\"\n\nDavid was frightened then, so angry was the look that came into Simeon\nHolly's face.\n\n\"Ellen, we'll have no more of this,\" said the man harshly. \"Understand,\nI'd rather lose the whole thing and--and starve, than go to--John.\"\n\nDavid fled then. Up the back stairs he crept to his", "\ntake him; but--Simeon,\" she broke off sharply, \"where's that child\nplaying now?\"\n\nSimeon listened with intent ears.\n\n\"In the barn, I should say.\"\n\n\"But he'd gone to bed!\"\n\n\"And he'll go to bed again,\" asserted Simeon Holly grimly, as he rose\nto his feet and stalked across the moonlit yard to the barn.\n\nAs before, Mrs. Holly followed him, and as before, both involuntarily\npaused just inside the barn door to listen", "in the brook.\"\n\nSuddenly the boy's face changed. It grew rapt and luminous as he leaped\nto his feet, crying joyously: \"But he asked me to play, so he went\nsinging--singing just as he said that they did. And I made him walk\nthrough green forests with the ripple of the brooks in his ears!\nListen--like this!\" And once more the boy raised the violin to his\nchin, and once more the music trilled and rippled about the shocked,\namazed ears of Simeon", "will,\" called Mrs. Holly, over her shoulder, as she hurried\ninto the house. In an unbelievably short time she was back, her face\nbeaming.\n\n\"He's started, so soon,\" she nodded. \"He's crazy with joy, Mollie said.\nHe even left part of his breakfast, he was in such a hurry. So I guess\nwe'll see him all right.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, we'll see him all right,\" echoed Simeon Holly grimly. \"But\nthat isn't telling what we'll", "yet with a difference--the difference\nthat comes from being really wanted instead of being merely dutifully\nkept. There were other differences, too, subtle differences that did\nnot show, perhaps, but that still were there.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Holly, more than ever now, were learning to look at the\nworld through David's eyes. One day--one wonderful day--they even went\nto walk in the woods with the boy; and whenever before had Simeon Holly\nleft his work for so frivolous a thing as a walk in the woods!\n\nIt was not", "\"But my song--I'd have lost it!\" he exclaimed. \"And father said always\nwhen a song came to me to play it at once. Songs are like the mists of\nthe morning and the rainbows, you know, and they don't stay with you\nlong. You just have to catch them quick, before they go. Now, don't you\nsee?\"\n\nBut Simeon Holly, with a despairingly scornful gesture, had turned\naway; and David, after a moment's following him with wistful eyes,\nsoberly walked", "on appeared on the kitchen\nporch.\n\n\"Very little. Really nothing of importance,\" answered Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Where is he now?\"\n\n\"Why, he was here on the steps a few minutes ago.\" Simeon Holly looked\nabout him a bit impatiently.\n\n\"Well, I want to see him. I've got a letter for him.\"\n\n\"A letter!\" exclaimed Simeon Holly and Larson in amazed unison.\n\n\"Yes. Found it in his father's pocket,\" nodded the coroner, with all\nthe", "reached forth an eager hand and had almost clutched\nthe gold when a sudden change came to his face. With a stern\nejaculation he drew back.\n\n\"Boy, where did that money come from?\" he challenged.\n\nDavid sighed in a discouraged way. It seemed that, always, the showing\nof this gold mean't questioning--eternal questioning.\n\n\"Surely,\" continued Simeon Holly, \"you did not--\" With the boy's frank\ngaze upturned to his, the man could not finish his sentence.\n\nBefore David", "look, and stalked down\nthe stairs.\n\nOn the porch long minutes later, when once more David had gone to bed,\nSimeon Holly said coldly to his wife:--\n\n\"I suppose you realize, Ellen, just what you've pledged yourself to, by\nthat absurd outburst of yours in the barn to-night--and all because\nthat ungodly music and the moonshine had gone to your head!\"\n\n\"But I want the boy, Simeon. He--he makes me think of--John.\"\n\nHarsh lines came to the" ], [ "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "his\npocket; \"then we can both go.\" And he dropped himself down at his\nfather's side.\n\nThe man shook his head feebly, and pointed again to the gold-pieces.\n\n\"Take them, David,--hide them,\" he chattered with pale lips.\n\nAlmost impatiently the boy began picking up the money and tucking it\ninto his pockets.\n\n\"But, father, I'm not going without you,\" he declared stoutly, as the\nlast bit of gold slipped out of sight, and a horse and wagon r", "he had all those others?\n\nDavid remembered now, suddenly, that his father had said to hide\nthem--to hide them until he needed them. David was relieved at once.\nWhy had he not thought of it before? He knew just the place, too,--the\nlittle cupboard behind the chimney there in this very room! And with a\nsatisfied sigh, David got to his feet, gathered all the little yellow\ndisks from his pockets, and tucked them well out of sight behind the\npiles of books on the cupboard shelves. There, too, he hid the", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "ember all I've\ntold you.\"\n\nOnce again David asked his question, but this time the man only turned\nback to the photograph, muttering something the boy could not\nunderstand.\n\nAfter that David did not question any more. He was too amazed, too\ndistressed. He had never before seen his father like this. With nervous\nhaste the man was setting the little room to rights, crowding things\ninto the bag, and packing other things away in an old trunk. His cheeks\nwere very red, and his eyes very bright. He talked, too, almost", "; outside it\nbranded one as a thief!\n\nAlone with his father, David faced once more his problem. Where should\nthey go for the night? Plainly his father could not walk far. He had\nbegun to talk again, too,--low, half-finished sentences that David\ncould not understand, and that vaguely troubled him. There was a house\nnear by, and several others down the road toward the village; but David\nhad had all the experience he wanted that night with strange houses,\nand strange women. There was a barn, a big", "thieves, but he knew what they were. Only\na month before a man had tried to steal the violins from the cabin; and\nhe was a thief, the milk-boy said. David flushed now again, angrily, as\nhe faced the closed door. But he did not tarry. He turned and ran to\nhis father.\n\n\"Father, come away, quick! You must come away,\" he choked.\n\nSo urgent was the boy's voice that almost unconsciously the sick man\ngot to his feet. With shaking hands he thrust the notes he", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "laughing now. He was watching his father with startled\neyes. David had not known what anxiety was. He was finding out\nnow--though he but vaguely realized that something was not right. For\nsome time his father had said but little, and that little had been in a\nvoice that was thick and unnatural-sounding. He was walking fast, yet\nDavid noticed that every step seemed an effort, and that every breath\ncame in short gasps. His eyes were very bright, and were fixedly bent\non the road ahead, as if even the haste he was making was", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "istine Madonna, packing\nthem neatly away in a box to be left. From beneath his bunk he dragged\na large, dusty traveling-bag, and in this he stowed a little food, a\nfew garments, and a great deal of the music scattered about the room.\n\nDavid, in the doorway, stared in dazed wonder. Gradually into his eyes\ncrept a look never seen there before.\n\n\"Father, where are we going?\" he asked at last in a shaking voice, as\nhe came slowly into the room.\n\n\"Back, son", "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you.", "sprang quickly forward.\n\n\"Father, what is it? WHAT IS IT?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Daddy, why don't you speak to me? See, it's David!\"\n\nWith a painful effort the man roused himself and sat up. For a moment\nhe gazed dully into the boy's face; then a half-forgotten something\nseemed to stir him into feverish action. With shaking fingers he handed\nDavid his watch and a small ivory miniature. Then he searched his\npockets until on the ground", "They, too,\nnever raised their eyes to the blue sky outside, nor even to the\ncrimson roses that peeped in at the window. They seemed rather to be\nlooking always for dirt, yet not pleased when they found it--especially\nif it had been tracked in on the heel of a small boy's shoe!\n\nMore extraordinary than all this to David, however, was the fact that\nthese people regarded HIM, not themselves, as being strange. As if it\nwere not the most natural thing in the world to live with one's father\nin one'" ], [ "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "instruments. Father said everybody was. And he said\neverybody was playing SOMETHING all the time; and if you didn't play in\ntune--\"\n\n\"Joe, Joe, please,\" begged the little girl \"Won't you let him go? I'm\nafraid. I told you--\"\n\n\"Shucks, Betty! He won't hurt ye,\" laughed Joe, a little irritably.\nThen to David he turned again with some sharpness.\n\n\"Play, won't ye? You SAID you'd play!\"\n", ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", ", and they\nfell into most disconcerting fits of laughter, or else backed away as\nif afraid, when he told them that they themselves were instruments in\nit, and that if they did not keep themselves in tune, there was sure to\nbe a discord somewhere.\n\nThen there were their games and frolics. Such as were played with\nballs, bats, and bags of beans, David thought he would like very much.\nBut the boys only scoffed when he asked them to teach him how to play.\nThey laughed when a dog chased a cat, and", "\n\"Yes, oh, yes, I'll play,\" faltered David, bringing his violin hastily\nto position, and testing the strings with fingers that shook a little.\n\n\"There!\" breathed Joe, settling back in his chair with a contented\nsigh. \"Now, play it again--what you did before.\"\n\nBut David did not play what he did before--at first. There were no airy\ncloud-boats, no far-reaching sky, no birds, or murmuring forest brooks\nin his music this time. There were only the poverty-", "\nMiss Holbrook's questions gave him opportunity. \"It's got strings.\"\n\n\"Yes. I was playing when you came in. I saw you enter the window.\nReally, David, are you in the habit of walking into people's houses\nlike this? It is most disconcerting--to their owners.\"\n\n\"Yes--no--well, sometimes.\" David's eyes were still on the harp. \"Lady\nof the Roses, won't you please play again--on that?\"\n\n\"David, you are incorrigible! Why did", "music, and was crazy over David's violin; so David took down his other\none--the one that was his father's, you know--and showed him how to\npick out little tunes, just to take up his time so he wouldn't mind so\nmuch that he couldn't see. Now, Jack, wasn't that just like David?\nJack, I can't have anything happen to David!\"\n\n\"No, dear, no; of course not! I'm afraid we can't any of us, for that\nmatter,\" sighed Jack,", "\n\n\"Does he?\" beamed David. \"But--\" He paused, listening, a quick frown on\nhis face.\n\nOver and over the violin was playing a single phrase--and the\nvariations in the phrase showed the indecision of the fingers and of\nthe mind that controlled them. Again and again with irritating\nsameness, yet with a still more irritating difference, came the\nsuccession of notes. And then David sprang to his feet, placing\nJuliette somewhat unceremoniously on the floor, much to that petted\nyoung", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you", "at what he\nfancied would come from a violin played by a boy like the one before\nhim. (Jack could play the violin himself a little--enough to know it\nsome, and love it more.) \"Hm-m; well, and what else do you do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, except to go for walks and read.\"\n\n\"Nothing!--a big boy like you--and on Simeon Holly's farm?\" Voice and\nmanner showed that Jack was not unacquainted with Simeon Holly and his\nmethods and opinions.\n\nDavid laughed gle", "that he placed before the boy one sheet of music after another,\nbegging and still begging for more.\n\nDavid, nothing loath, played on and on. Most of the music he knew,\nhaving already learned it in his mountain home. Like old friends the\nmelodies seemed, and so glad was David to see their notes again that he\nfinished each production with a little improvised cadenza of ecstatic\nwelcome--to Mr. Jack's increasing surprise and delight.\n\n\"Great Scott! you're a wonder, David,\" he exclaimed, at last.", ", David did not know. If he found a kitten\nat play in the sunshine, he put it into a riotous abandonment of\ntumbling turns and trills--that a fretful baby heard and stopped its\nwailing, David also did not know. And once, just because the sky was\nblue and the air was sweet, and it was so good to be alive, David\nlifted his bow and put it all into a rapturous paean of ringing\nexultation--that a sick man in a darkened chamber above the street\nlifted", "understand?\"\n\n\"New--to play?\"\n\n\"Yes--on my violin,\" explained David, a little breathlessly, softly\ntesting his violin. \"There's always something new in this, you know,\"\nhe hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, \"when there's\nanything new outside. Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how\nit's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out.\" And with a\njoyously rapt face he began to play.\n\n\"But, see here,", "That sounded fine!\"\n\nThe boys stared, then sniffed disdainfully, and cast derisive glances\ninto each other's eyes--it appeared that this little sissy tramp boy\ndid not even know enough to discover when he was being laughed at!\n\n\"David! David! His name is David,\" they jeered into his face again.\n\"Come on, tune her up! We want ter dance.\"\n\n\"Play? Of course I'll play,\" cried David joyously, raising his violin\nand testing a string for its tone.\n\n\"Here,", "had David played as he played then. It was as if\nupon those four quivering strings, he was laying the purple and gold of\na thousand sunsets, the rose and amber of a thousand sunrises, the\ngreen of a boundless earth, the blue of a sky that reached to heaven\nitself--to make Joe understand.\n\n\"Gee!\" breathed Joe, when the music came to an end with a crashing\nchord. \"Say, wa'n't that just great? Won't you let me, please, just\ntouch that fiddle", "m, who would understand what he was saying when he played. It seemed\nto David that in some boy of his own age he ought to find such a\nfriend. He had seen many boys--but he had not yet found the friend.\nDavid had begun to think, indeed, that of all these strange beings in\nthis new life of his, boys were the strangest.\n\nThey stared and nudged each other unpleasantly when they came upon him\nplaying. They jeered when he tried to tell them what he had been\nplaying. They had never heard of the great Orchestra of Life", ", tell\nme it's owned by this boy who, it's safe to say, doesn't know how to\nplay sixteen notes on it correctly, to say nothing of appreciating\nthose he does play; and who, by your own account, is nothing but--\" A\nswiftly uplifted hand of warning stayed the words on his lips. He\nturned to see David himself in the doorway.\n\n\"Come in, David,\" said Simeon Holly quietly. \"My son wants to hear you\nplay. I don't think he has heard you.\" And again", "take up my violin and tell you about it!\"\n\n\"But it's Sunday--the Lord's Day,\" remonstrated the man sternly.\n\nDavid stood motionless, his eyes questioning.\n\n\"Are you quite a heathen, then?\" catechised the man sharply. \"Have they\nnever told you anything about God, boy?\"\n\n\"Oh, 'God'?--of course,\" smiled David, in open relief. \"God wraps up\nthe buds in their little brown blankets, and covers the roots with--\"\n\n\"I am not", "\n\"See here, boy, can't you do anything but fiddle?\" he demanded. Then,\nas David still continued to play, he added sharply: \"Did n't you hear\nme, boy?\"\n\nThe music stopped abruptly. David looked up with the slightly dazed air\nof one who has been summoned as from another world.\n\n\"Did you speak to me, sir?\" he asked.\n\n\"I did--twice. I asked if you never did anything but play that fiddle.\"\n\n\"You mean at home?\" David's face expressed mild wonder without", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on" ], [ "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "sprang quickly forward.\n\n\"Father, what is it? WHAT IS IT?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Daddy, why don't you speak to me? See, it's David!\"\n\nWith a painful effort the man roused himself and sat up. For a moment\nhe gazed dully into the boy's face; then a half-forgotten something\nseemed to stir him into feverish action. With shaking fingers he handed\nDavid his watch and a small ivory miniature. Then he searched his\npockets until on the ground", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "his\npocket; \"then we can both go.\" And he dropped himself down at his\nfather's side.\n\nThe man shook his head feebly, and pointed again to the gold-pieces.\n\n\"Take them, David,--hide them,\" he chattered with pale lips.\n\nAlmost impatiently the boy began picking up the money and tucking it\ninto his pockets.\n\n\"But, father, I'm not going without you,\" he declared stoutly, as the\nlast bit of gold slipped out of sight, and a horse and wagon r", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "he need--that?\"\n\n\"No, or he'd have taken it with him.\"\n\nDavid had fallen silent at this. He had remained strangely silent\nindeed for some days; then, out in the woods with his father one\nmorning, he gave a joyous shout. He was standing by the ice-covered\nbrook, and looking at a little black hole through which the hurrying\nwater could be plainly seen.\n\n\"Daddy, oh, daddy, I know now how it is, about being--dead.\"\n\n\"Why--David!\"\n\n\"", ". He wrote it to me.\"\n\n\"Wrote it to you!\" cried the man, sitting suddenly erect.\n\n\"Yes. It was in his pocket, you see. They--found it.\" David's voice was\nvery low, and not quite steady.\n\n\"David, may I see--that letter?\"\n\nThe boy hesitated; then slowly he drew it from his pocket.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Jack. I'll let YOU see it.\"\n\nReverently, tenderly, but very eagerly the man took the note and read\nit through, hoping somewhere", "he came to drawing a timid bow across\nthe strings. In an incredibly short time, then, he was picking out bits\nof melody; and by the end of a fortnight David had brought his father's\nviolin for Joe to practice on.\n\n\"I can't GIVE it to you--not for keeps,\" David had explained, a bit\ntremulously, \"because it was daddy's, you know; and when I see it, it\nseems almost as if I was seeing him. But you may take it. Then you can\nhave it here to play", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "\nof a father's thought for the young eyes that would read it. It was\nwritten on two of the notebook's leaves, and at the end came the single\nword \"Daddy.\"\n\n\nDavid, my boy [read Higgins aloud], in the far country I am waiting for\nyou. Do not grieve, for that will grieve me. I shall not return, but\nsome day you will come to me, your violin at your chin, and the bow\ndrawn across the strings to greet me. See that it tells me of the\nbeautiful world", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "ember all I've\ntold you.\"\n\nOnce again David asked his question, but this time the man only turned\nback to the photograph, muttering something the boy could not\nunderstand.\n\nAfter that David did not question any more. He was too amazed, too\ndistressed. He had never before seen his father like this. With nervous\nhaste the man was setting the little room to rights, crowding things\ninto the bag, and packing other things away in an old trunk. His cheeks\nwere very red, and his eyes very bright. He talked, too, almost", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "all this, too, was on David's\nuplifted, rapturous face.\n\nAs the last rose-glow turned to gray and the last strain quivered into\nsilence, the man spoke. His voice was almost harsh with self-control.\n\n\"David, the time has come. We'll have to give it up--you and I.\"\n\nThe boy turned wonderingly, his face still softly luminous.\n\n\"Give what up?\"\n\n\"This--all this.\"\n\n\"This! Why, father, what do you mean", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "The letter? Oh, you're welcome to read the letter,\" he said, as he\nhanded over a bit of folded paper.\n\nSimeon took it gingerly and examined it.\n\nIt was a leaf torn apparently from a note book. It was folded three\ntimes, and bore on the outside the superscription \"To whom it may\nconcern.\" The handwriting was peculiar, irregular, and not very\nlegible. But as near as it could be deciphered, the note ran thus:--\n\n\nNow that the time has come when I must give David back to", "woods. David\nwas six then.\n\n\"Why, daddy, he's asleep, and he won't wake up!\" he had cried. Then,\nafter a gentle touch: \"And he's cold--oh, so cold!\"\n\nThe father had hurried his son away at the time, and had evaded his\nquestions; and David had seemed content. But the next day the boy had\ngone back to the subject. His eyes were wide then, and a little\nfrightened.\n\n\"Father, what is it to be--dead?\"\n\n\"What", "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n" ], [ "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from", "woods. David\nwas six then.\n\n\"Why, daddy, he's asleep, and he won't wake up!\" he had cried. Then,\nafter a gentle touch: \"And he's cold--oh, so cold!\"\n\nThe father had hurried his son away at the time, and had evaded his\nquestions; and David had seemed content. But the next day the boy had\ngone back to the subject. His eyes were wide then, and a little\nfrightened.\n\n\"Father, what is it to be--dead?\"\n\n\"What", "; outside it\nbranded one as a thief!\n\nAlone with his father, David faced once more his problem. Where should\nthey go for the night? Plainly his father could not walk far. He had\nbegun to talk again, too,--low, half-finished sentences that David\ncould not understand, and that vaguely troubled him. There was a house\nnear by, and several others down the road toward the village; but David\nhad had all the experience he wanted that night with strange houses,\nand strange women. There was a barn, a big", "laughing now. He was watching his father with startled\neyes. David had not known what anxiety was. He was finding out\nnow--though he but vaguely realized that something was not right. For\nsome time his father had said but little, and that little had been in a\nvoice that was thick and unnatural-sounding. He was walking fast, yet\nDavid noticed that every step seemed an effort, and that every breath\ncame in short gasps. His eyes were very bright, and were fixedly bent\non the road ahead, as if even the haste he was making was", "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "himself half-erect, \"I slept all night\non--\" He stopped suddenly, brushing his eyes with the backs of his\nhands. \"Why, daddy, where--\" Then full consciousness came to him.\n\nWith a low cry he sprang to his feet and ran to the window. Through the\ntrees he could see the sunrise glow of the eastern sky. Down in the\nyard no one was in sight; but the barn door was open, and, with a quick\nindrawing of his breath, David turned back into the room and began to\nthrust himself into", "round, tanned, and just now a bit anxious, flashed out of\nthe dark.\n\n\"Oh, please, sir, if you would speak lower,\" pleaded the boy. \"He's so\ntired! I'm David, sir, and that's father. We came in here to rest and\nsleep.\"\n\nSimeon Holly's unrelenting gaze left the boy's face and swept that of\nthe man lying back on the hay. The next instant he lowered the lantern\nand leaned nearer, putting forth a cautious hand. At once he", "he added, his eyes on the cause of the\ntrouble, now curled in a little gray bunch of content on the window\nsill. \"But I don't know yet who you are. Who is your father? Where does\nhe live?\"\n\nDavid shook his head. As was always the case when his father was\nmentioned, his face grew wistful and his eyes dreamy.\n\n\"He doesn't live here anywhere,\" murmured the boy. \"In the far country\nhe is waiting for me to come to him and tell him of the beautiful world\nI have found,", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "his\npocket; \"then we can both go.\" And he dropped himself down at his\nfather's side.\n\nThe man shook his head feebly, and pointed again to the gold-pieces.\n\n\"Take them, David,--hide them,\" he chattered with pale lips.\n\nAlmost impatiently the boy began picking up the money and tucking it\ninto his pockets.\n\n\"But, father, I'm not going without you,\" he declared stoutly, as the\nlast bit of gold slipped out of sight, and a horse and wagon r", "getting cold!\"\n\nSlowly, with the aid of the boy's firm hands, the man pulled himself\nhalf to a sitting posture. His cheeks, like the boy's, were red--but\nnot with health. His eyes were a little wild, but his voice was low and\nvery tender, like a caress.\n\n\"David--it's my little son David!\"\n\n\"Of course it's David! Who else should it be?\" laughed the boy. \"Come!\"\nAnd he tugged at the man's hands.\n\nThe man rose then, un", "thieves, but he knew what they were. Only\na month before a man had tried to steal the violins from the cabin; and\nhe was a thief, the milk-boy said. David flushed now again, angrily, as\nhe faced the closed door. But he did not tarry. He turned and ran to\nhis father.\n\n\"Father, come away, quick! You must come away,\" he choked.\n\nSo urgent was the boy's voice that almost unconsciously the sick man\ngot to his feet. With shaking hands he thrust the notes he", "sprang quickly forward.\n\n\"Father, what is it? WHAT IS IT?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Daddy, why don't you speak to me? See, it's David!\"\n\nWith a painful effort the man roused himself and sat up. For a moment\nhe gazed dully into the boy's face; then a half-forgotten something\nseemed to stir him into feverish action. With shaking fingers he handed\nDavid his watch and a small ivory miniature. Then he searched his\npockets until on the ground", "\nthe rug, and, for the first time since babyhood, sobbed himself to\nsleep--but it was a sleep that brought no rest; for in it he dreamed\nthat he was a big, white-winged moth pinned with a star to an ink-black\nsky.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTWO LETTERS\n\nIn the early gray dawn David awoke. His first sensation was the\nphysical numbness and stiffness that came from his hard bed on the\nfloor.\n\n\"Why, daddy,\" he began, pulling" ], [ ". He turned to his wife.\n\n\"Take the boy to the house,\" he directed incisively. \"We'll have to\nkeep him to-night, I suppose. I'll go for Higgins. Of course the whole\nthing will have to be put in his hands at once. You can't do anything\nhere,\" he added, as he caught her questioning glance. \"Leave everything\njust as it is. The man is dead.\"\n\n\"Dead?\" It was a sharp cry from the boy, yet there was more of wonder\nthan of terror in it. \"Do you", "on appeared on the kitchen\nporch.\n\n\"Very little. Really nothing of importance,\" answered Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Where is he now?\"\n\n\"Why, he was here on the steps a few minutes ago.\" Simeon Holly looked\nabout him a bit impatiently.\n\n\"Well, I want to see him. I've got a letter for him.\"\n\n\"A letter!\" exclaimed Simeon Holly and Larson in amazed unison.\n\n\"Yes. Found it in his father's pocket,\" nodded the coroner, with all\nthe", "because of\nthe circumstances. The boy and his father had entered the town like\ntramps, yet Higgins, who talked freely of his having given the pair a\n\"lift\" on that very evening, did not hesitate to declare that he did\nnot believe them to be ordinary tramps at all.\n\nAs there had been little found in the dead man's pockets, save the two\nnotes, and as nobody could be found who wanted the violins, there\nseemed to be nothing to do but to turn the body over to the town for\nburial. Nothing was said of this", "his violin, and hurried, firm-footed, down the driveway\nand out upon the main highway, turning in the direction from whence he\nhad come with his father the night before.\n\nThe Hollys had just finished breakfast when Higgins, the coroner, drove\ninto the yard accompanied by William Streeter, the town's most\nprominent farmer,--and the most miserly one, if report was to be\ncredited.\n\n\"Well, could you get anything out of the boy?\" demanded Higgins,\nwithout ceremony, as Simeon Holly and Lars", "woods. David\nwas six then.\n\n\"Why, daddy, he's asleep, and he won't wake up!\" he had cried. Then,\nafter a gentle touch: \"And he's cold--oh, so cold!\"\n\nThe father had hurried his son away at the time, and had evaded his\nquestions; and David had seemed content. But the next day the boy had\ngone back to the subject. His eyes were wide then, and a little\nfrightened.\n\n\"Father, what is it to be--dead?\"\n\n\"What", "Holly and his wife.\n\nFor a time neither the man nor the woman could speak. There was nothing\nin their humdrum, habit-smoothed tilling of the soil and washing of\npots and pans to prepare them for a scene like this--a moonlit barn, a\nstrange dead man, and that dead man's son babbling of brooks and\nsquirrels, and playing jigs on a fiddle for a dirge. At last, however,\nSimeon found his voice.\n\n\"Boy, boy, stop that!\" he thund", "do with him when we do see him.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, maybe this letter of his will help us out on that,\"\nsuggested Higgins soothingly. \"Anyhow, even if it doesn't, I'm not\nworrying any. I guess some one will want him--a good healthy boy like\nthat.\"\n\n\"Did you find any money on the body?\" asked Streeter.\n\n\"A little change--a few cents. Nothing to count. If the boy's letter\ndoesn't tell us where any of their folks are, it'", "room and left his\nviolin. A moment later he stole down again and sought Perry Larson whom\nhe had seen smoking in the barn doorway.\n\n\"Perry, what is it?\" he asked in a trembling voice. \"What has\nhappened--in there?\" He pointed toward the house.\n\nThe man puffed for a moment in silence before he took his pipe from his\nmouth.\n\n\"Well, sonny, I s'pose I may as well tell ye. You'll have ter know it\nsometime, seein' as 't won't be", "feet, and followed her husband's shadow across the yard.\n\nOnce inside the barn Simeon Holly and his wife paused involuntarily.\nThe music was all about them now, filling the air with runs and trills\nand rollicking bits of melody. Giving an angry exclamation, the man\nturned then to the narrow stairway and climbed to the hayloft above. At\nhis heels came his wife, and so her eyes, almost as soon as his fell\nupon the man lying back on the hay with the moonlight full upon his\nface. Instantly", "get hold\nof, and find out who the boy is?\"\n\nThere was no answering this. The assembled men could only grunt and nod\nin agreement, which, after all, was no real help.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nDISCORDS\n\nThe dead man found in Farmer Holly's barn created a decided stir in the\nvillage of Hinsdale. The case was a peculiar one for many reasons.\nFirst, because of the boy--Hinsdale supposed it knew boys, but it felt\ninclined to change its mind after seeing this one. Second,", "There was left finally upon the ground only David alone.\nBut when David did at last appear, the little girl burst into tears\nanew.\n\n\"Oh, Jack, he's killed--I know he's killed,\" she wailed. \"And he was so\nnice and--and pretty. And now--look at him! Ain't he a sight?\"\n\nDavid was not killed, but he was--a sight. His blouse was torn, his tie\nwas gone, and his face and hands were covered with dirt and blood.\nAbove one eye was an ugly-looking", "burden David gave an involuntary\ncry, and stopped playing.\n\nThe boys, scarcely less surprised at sight of David and his violin,\npaused and stared frankly.\n\n\"It's the tramp kid with his fiddle,\" whispered one to the other\nhuskily.\n\nDavid, his grieved eyes on the motionless little bodies in the boys'\nhands, shuddered.\n\n\"Are they--dead, too?\"\n\nThe bigger boy nodded self-importantly.\n\n\"Sure. We just shot 'em--the squ", "; when the pulse in the slim wrist outside the coverlet\nplayed hide-and-seek with the cool, persistent fingers that sought so\nearnestly for it; when Perry Larson sat for uncounted sleepless hours\nby the kitchen stove, and fearfully listened for a step crossing the\nhallway; when Mr. Jack on his porch, and Miss Holbrook in her tower\nwidow, went with David down into the dark valley, and came so near the\nrushing river that life, with its petty prides and prejudices, could\nnever seem quite the same to them", "\nHe went straight up the steps and through the open kitchen door. At the\ntable sat the man and the woman, their eyes covered with their hands.\n\nWith a swift overturning of his cap, David dumped his burden onto the\ntable, and stepped back respectfully.\n\n\"If you please, sir, would this--help any?\" he asked.\n\nAt the jingle of the coins Simeon Holly and his wife lifted their heads\nabruptly. A half-uttered sob died on the woman's lips. A quick cry came\nfrom the man's. He", "\n\"Eh? The girl? Oh,\" answered Mr. Jack, a little bitterly, \"I'm afraid I\ndon't know exactly what the girl did think, but--it was n't that,\nanyhow--that is, judging from what followed.\"\n\n\"What did follow?\"\n\n\"Well, to begin with, the old aunt died. The girl was sixteen then. It\nwas in the winter that this happened, and the girl was far away at\nschool. She came to the funeral, however, but the boy did not see her,\nsave in the distance", ". He wrote it to me.\"\n\n\"Wrote it to you!\" cried the man, sitting suddenly erect.\n\n\"Yes. It was in his pocket, you see. They--found it.\" David's voice was\nvery low, and not quite steady.\n\n\"David, may I see--that letter?\"\n\nThe boy hesitated; then slowly he drew it from his pocket.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Jack. I'll let YOU see it.\"\n\nReverently, tenderly, but very eagerly the man took the note and read\nit through, hoping somewhere", "Holbrook ignored the question put to her. \"And did you walk\ninto their house, unannounced and uninvited, like this?\" she queried.\n\n\"No. He asked me. You see he wanted to get off some of the dirt and\nblood before other folks saw me.\"\n\n \"The dirt and--and--why, David, what do you mean? What was\nit--an accident?\"\n\nDavid frowned and reflected a moment.\n\n\"No. I did it on purpose. I HAD to, you see,\" he finally elucidated.\n\"", "round, tanned, and just now a bit anxious, flashed out of\nthe dark.\n\n\"Oh, please, sir, if you would speak lower,\" pleaded the boy. \"He's so\ntired! I'm David, sir, and that's father. We came in here to rest and\nsleep.\"\n\nSimeon Holly's unrelenting gaze left the boy's face and swept that of\nthe man lying back on the hay. The next instant he lowered the lantern\nand leaned nearer, putting forth a cautious hand. At once he", "mean that he has gone--like the water in\nthe brook--to the far country?\" he faltered.\n\nSimeon Holly stared. Then he said more distinctly:--\n\n\"Your father is dead, boy.\"\n\n\"And he won't come back any more?\" David's voice broke now.\n\nThere was no answer. Mrs. Holly caught her breath convulsively and\nlooked away. Even Simeon Holly refused to meet the boy's pleading eyes.\n\nWith a quick cry David sprang to his father's side.\n\n\"But", "\n\n\"Yes, right now. Why, he was here when you were driving into the yard.\"\n\nMiss Holbrook gave a perceptible start and looked about her a little\nwildly.\n\n\"Here when--But I didn't meet him anywhere--in the hall.\"\n\n\"He didn't go through the hall,\" laughed David gleefully. \"He went\nright through that window there.\"\n\n\"The window!\" An angry flush mounted to Miss Holbrook's forehead.\n\"Indeed, did he have to resort to that to escape--\" She bit" ], [ "it, David compared it with the\nmagnificence he had just seen. His voice choked as he answered.\n\n\"He isn't well, Lady of the Roses, and he's unhappy. He's awfully\nunhappy.\"\n\nMiss Holbrook's slender figure came up with a jerk.\n\n\"What do you mean, boy? How do you know he's unhappy? Has he said so?\"\n\n\"No; but Mrs. Holly told me about him. He's sick; and he'd just found\nhis work to do out", "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "! Who plays?\" he asked.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"Oh, the boy. You say you--took him in? By the way, what an odd little\nshaver he is! Never did I see a BOY like HIM.\" Simeon Holly's head came\nup almost aggressively.\n\n\"David is a good boy--a very good boy, indeed, John. We think a great\ndeal of him.\"\n\nJohn Holly laughed lightly, yet his brow carried a puzzled frown. Two\nthings John Holly had not been able thus far to understand:", "Where do you live?\"\n\nThe boy's face clouded.\n\n\"I'm David--just David. I live at Farmer Holly's now; but I did live on\nthe mountain with--father, you know.\"\n\nA great light of understanding broke over Miss Holbrook's face. She\ndropped back into her seat.\n\n\"Oh, I remember,\" she murmured. \"You're the little--er--boy whom he\ntook. I have heard the story. So THAT is who you are,\" she added, the\nold look of aversion coming", "\"Why, I--I don't know, David,\" murmured Mrs. Holly, with a helpless\nglance at her husband stalking on ahead. \"I--I didn't know there were\nsuch things to--to know.\"\n\nThere was more, much more, that David said before the walk came to an\nend. And though, when it did end, neither Simeon Holly nor his wife\nsaid a word of its having been a pleasure or a profit, there was yet on\ntheir faces something of the peace and rest and quietness that belonged\nto the woods they had left", "smiles, and her last\nadoring glance was for David, waving his hand to her from the porch\nsteps.\n\nIn the afternoon David took his violin and went off toward the hill\nbehind the house for a walk. He had asked Mrs. Holly to accompany him,\nbut she had refused, though she was not sweeping or dusting at the\ntime. She was doing nothing more important, apparently, than making\nholes in a piece of white cloth, and sewing them up again with a needle\nand thread.\n\nDavid had then asked Mr. Holly to go; but his", "him.\n\nThere were times, to be sure, when there was nothing but rejoicing\nwithin him that he was able thus to aid the Hollys. There were other\ntimes when there was nothing but the sore heartache because of the\ngreat work out in the beautiful world that could now never be done; and\nbecause of the unlovely work at hand that must be done. To tell the\ntruth, indeed, David's entire conception of life had become suddenly a\nchaos of puzzling contradictions.\n\nTo Mr. Jack, one day, David went with his per", "But Mrs. Holly, with a vexed gesture, stopped him.\n\n\"Never mind, little boy. I might have known--brought up as you have\nbeen. Of course you could not appreciate such things as these. Throw\nthem away, indeed!\" And she fell to work again; but this time her\nfingers carried a something in their touch that was almost like the\ncaress a mother might bestow upon an aggrieved child.\n\nDavid, vaguely disturbed and uncomfortable, watched her with troubled\neyes; then, apologetically, he", "world through\nDavid's eyes.\n\nNor were these all of David's friends to whom Mr. and Mrs. Holly were\nintroduced on that memorable walk. There were the birds, and the\nsquirrels, and, in fact, everything that had life. And each one he\ngreeted joyously by name, as he would greet a friend whose home and\nhabits he knew. Here was a wonderful woodpecker, there was a beautiful\nbluejay. Ahead, that brilliant bit of color that flashed across their\npath was a tanager. Once,", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "work about the house. Did you never do any of that?\"\n\nDavid gave a relieved laugh.\n\n\"Oh, you mean getting the meals and tidying up the house,\" he replied.\n\"Oh, yes, I did that with father, only\"--his face grew wistful--\"I'm\nafraid I didn't do it very well. My bacon was never as nice and crisp\nas father's, and the fire was always spoiling my potatoes.\"\n\n\"Humph! bacon and potatoes, indeed!\" scorned Simeon Holly. \"Well", "no time in looking about for some one to\ntake the boy away.\n\nOn that first day Higgins, picking up the reins preparatory to driving\nfrom the yard, had said, with a nod of his head toward David:--\n\n\"Well, how about it, Holly? Shall we leave him here till we find\nsomebody that wants him?\"\n\n\"Why, y--yes, I suppose so,\" hesitated Simeon Holly, with uncordial\naccent.\n\nBut his wife, hovering in the background, hastened forward at once.\n\n\"Oh", "like terror.\n\nDavid, left alone, went on his way with troubled eyes and a thoughtful\nfrown.\n\nDavid often wore, during those first few days at the Holly farmhouse, a\nthoughtful face and a troubled frown. There were so many, many things\nthat were different from his mountain home. Over and over, as those\nfirst long days passed, he read his letter until he knew it by\nheart--and he had need to. Was he not already surrounded by things and\npeople that were strange to him?\n\nAnd they were so very strange--the", "and the birds and squirrels and brooks are really in my\nviolin, you know. And--\" But with an angry frown Simeon Holly stalked\naway, motioning Larson to follow him; and with a merry glance and a low\nchuckle Higgins turned his horse about and drove from the yard. A\nmoment later David found himself alone with Mrs. Holly, who was looking\nat him with wistful, though slightly fearful eyes.\n\n\"Did you have all the breakfast you wanted?\" she asked timidly,\nresorting,", "imeon Holly,\nwith harsh impatience. \"I mean, did he never set you to work--real\nwork?\"\n\n\"Work?\" David meditated again. Then suddenly his face cleared. \"Oh,\nyes, sir, he said I had a beautiful work to do, and that it was waiting\nfor me out in the world. That's why we came down from the mountain, you\nknow, to find it. Is that what you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, no,\" retorted the man, \"I can't say that it was. I was referring\nto work--real", "a secret worth the telling. Even Simeon\nHolly glowed into a semblance of life when David had unerringly picked\nout and called by name the spruce, and fir, and pine, and larch, and\nthen, in answer to Mrs. Holly's murmured: \"But, David, where's the\ndifference? They look so much alike!\" he had said:--\n\n\"Oh, but they aren't, you know. Just see how much more pointed at the\ntop that fir is than that spruce back there; and the branches grow\n", "Mrs. Holly's tear-wet, yet radiant face, he collapsed\nlimply.\n\n\"Gosh!\" he muttered. \"Say, do you know, I didn't s'pose I did care so\nmuch! I reckon I'll go an' tell Mr. Jack. He'll want ter hear.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nPUZZLES\n\nDavid's convalescence was picturesque, in a way. As soon as he was\nable, like a king he sat upon his throne and received his subjects; and\na", ", and he had not seen much of them when he went\nwith his father to the mountain village for supplies. There had been,\nit is true, the boy who frequently brought milk and eggs to the cabin;\nbut he had been very quiet and shy, appearing always afraid and anxious\nto get away, as if he had been told not to stay. More recently, since\nDavid had been at the Holly farmhouse, his experience with boys had\nbeen even less satisfying. The boys--with the exception of blind\nJoe--had very clearly let it be understood that they had little use for\na youth", "\"But my song--I'd have lost it!\" he exclaimed. \"And father said always\nwhen a song came to me to play it at once. Songs are like the mists of\nthe morning and the rainbows, you know, and they don't stay with you\nlong. You just have to catch them quick, before they go. Now, don't you\nsee?\"\n\nBut Simeon Holly, with a despairingly scornful gesture, had turned\naway; and David, after a moment's following him with wistful eyes,\nsoberly walked" ], [ "strings he\nfound the means to say that which his tongue could not express.\n\nAcross the valley the grays and blues of the mountains had become all\npurples now. Above, the sky in one vast flame of crimson and gold, was\na molten sea on which floated rose-pink cloud-boats. Below, the valley\nwith its lake and river picked out in rose and gold against the shadowy\ngreens of field and forest, seemed like some enchanted fairyland of\nloveliness.\n\nAnd all this was in David's violin, and", ", David did not know. If he found a kitten\nat play in the sunshine, he put it into a riotous abandonment of\ntumbling turns and trills--that a fretful baby heard and stopped its\nwailing, David also did not know. And once, just because the sky was\nblue and the air was sweet, and it was so good to be alive, David\nlifted his bow and put it all into a rapturous paean of ringing\nexultation--that a sick man in a darkened chamber above the street\nlifted", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "those early winter days, and\nthey were very beautiful ones. To begin with, there were all the kindly\nlooks and deeds that were showered upon him from every side. There was\nthe first snowstorm, too, with the feathery flakes turning all the\nworld to fairy whiteness. This song David played to Mr. Streeter, one\nday, and great was his disappointment that the man could not seem to\nunderstand what the song said.\n\n\"But don't you see?\" pleaded David. \"I'm telling you that it's your\n", "the roses at the window were nodding their\nheads and beckoning; and the birds in the bushes beyond were sending to\nhim coaxing little chirps of \"Come out, come out!\" And how could one\nexpect to sit stiff and solemn in the face of all that, particularly\nwhen one's fingers were tingling to take up the interrupted song of the\nmorning and tell the whole world how beautiful it was to be wanted!\n\nYet David sat very still,--or as still as he could sit,--and only the\ntapping of his foot", "David; there were \"so many of him,\"\nhe told himself. There were the boy, the artist, and a third\npersonality so evanescent that it defied being named. The boy was\njolly, impetuous, confidential, and delightful--plainly reveling in all\nmanner of fun and frolic. The artist was nothing but a bunch of nervous\nalertness, ready to find melody and rhythm in every passing thought or\nflying cloud. The third--that baffling third that defied the\nnaming--was a dreamy, visionary, untouch", "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n", ", and they\nfell into most disconcerting fits of laughter, or else backed away as\nif afraid, when he told them that they themselves were instruments in\nit, and that if they did not keep themselves in tune, there was sure to\nbe a discord somewhere.\n\nThen there were their games and frolics. Such as were played with\nballs, bats, and bags of beans, David thought he would like very much.\nBut the boys only scoffed when he asked them to teach him how to play.\nThey laughed when a dog chased a cat, and", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you", "But Mrs. Holly, with a vexed gesture, stopped him.\n\n\"Never mind, little boy. I might have known--brought up as you have\nbeen. Of course you could not appreciate such things as these. Throw\nthem away, indeed!\" And she fell to work again; but this time her\nfingers carried a something in their touch that was almost like the\ncaress a mother might bestow upon an aggrieved child.\n\nDavid, vaguely disturbed and uncomfortable, watched her with troubled\neyes; then, apologetically, he", "m, who would understand what he was saying when he played. It seemed\nto David that in some boy of his own age he ought to find such a\nfriend. He had seen many boys--but he had not yet found the friend.\nDavid had begun to think, indeed, that of all these strange beings in\nthis new life of his, boys were the strangest.\n\nThey stared and nudged each other unpleasantly when they came upon him\nplaying. They jeered when he tried to tell them what he had been\nplaying. They had never heard of the great Orchestra of Life", "\"But my song--I'd have lost it!\" he exclaimed. \"And father said always\nwhen a song came to me to play it at once. Songs are like the mists of\nthe morning and the rainbows, you know, and they don't stay with you\nlong. You just have to catch them quick, before they go. Now, don't you\nsee?\"\n\nBut Simeon Holly, with a despairingly scornful gesture, had turned\naway; and David, after a moment's following him with wistful eyes,\nsoberly walked", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from", "rapturously, his eyes sweeping the scene before him:--\n\n\"Yes. I didn't suppose, anywhere, down here, there was a place one half\nso beautiful!\"\n\nAn odd feeling of uncanniness sent a swift exclamation to the lady's\nlips.\n\n\"'Down here'! What do you mean by that? You speak as if you came\nfrom--above,\" she almost laughed.\n\n\"I did,\" returned David simply. \"But even up there I never found\nanything quite like this,\"--with a sweep of his hands", "frantically. The can, dangling at\nits heels, rattled and banged and thumped, until the frightened little\ncreature, crazed with terror, became nothing but a whirling mass of\nmisery. The boys, formed now into a crowing circle of delight, kept the\nkitten within bounds, and flouted David mercilessly.\n\n\"Ah, ha!--stop us, will ye? Why don't ye stop us?\" they gibed.\n\nFor a moment David stood without movement, his eyes staring. The next\ninstant", ", as if from an inward glow. His eyes, still widely\nintent, were staring straight ahead.\n\n\"Stop, Betty, wait,\" he hushed her. \"Maybe--I think I DO understand.\nBoy, you mean--INSIDE of you, you see those things, and then you try to\nmake your fiddle tell what you are seeing. Is that it?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" cried David. \"Oh, you DO understand. And I never thought\nyou could. I never thought that anybody could that did n't have\nanything to look at but him", ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "\n\"Yes, I know, but I've LEARNED something,\" urged the boy; \"something\nthat you ought to know. You see, I did think, once, that because you\nhad all these beautiful things around you, the hours ought to be all\nsunny ones. But now I know it isn't what's around you; it's what is IN\nyou!\"\n\n\"Oh, David, David, you curious boy!\"\n\n\"No, but really! Let me tell you,\" pleaded David. \"You know I haven't\nliked them,--", "!\" laughed David. \"We don't need that.\" And he laughed again,\nfor pure joy. Little use had David for bags or baggage!\n\nThey were more than halfway down the mountain now, and soon they\nreached a grass-grown road, little traveled, but yet a road. Still\nlater they came to where four ways crossed, and two of them bore the\nmarks of many wheels. By sundown the little brook at their side\nmurmured softly of quiet fields and meadows, and David knew that the\nvalley was reached.\n\nDavid was not" ], [ "Holly and his wife.\n\nFor a time neither the man nor the woman could speak. There was nothing\nin their humdrum, habit-smoothed tilling of the soil and washing of\npots and pans to prepare them for a scene like this--a moonlit barn, a\nstrange dead man, and that dead man's son babbling of brooks and\nsquirrels, and playing jigs on a fiddle for a dirge. At last, however,\nSimeon found his voice.\n\n\"Boy, boy, stop that!\" he thund", "yet with a difference--the difference\nthat comes from being really wanted instead of being merely dutifully\nkept. There were other differences, too, subtle differences that did\nnot show, perhaps, but that still were there.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Holly, more than ever now, were learning to look at the\nworld through David's eyes. One day--one wonderful day--they even went\nto walk in the woods with the boy; and whenever before had Simeon Holly\nleft his work for so frivolous a thing as a walk in the woods!\n\nIt was not", "I want to see the inside of that letter to HIM. I'm relying\non that being some help to unsnarl this tangle of telling who they are.\"\n\n\"Well, he's started,\" reiterated Mrs. Holly, as she turned back into\nthe house; \"so I guess he'll get here if you wait long enough.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, he'll get here if we wait long enough,\" echoed Simeon Holly\nagain, crustily.\n\nThe two men in the wagon settled themselves more comfortably in their\nseats,", "to come, do as I did.\n\nI'll not deceive you--I have not given up my art. You told me once to\nchoose between you and it--and I chose, I suppose; at least, I ran\naway. Yet in the face of all that, I ask you again, may I not come to\nyou at Christmas? I want you, father, and I want mother. And I want you\nto see my boy.\n\n\n\"Well?\" said Simeon Holly, trying to speak with a steady coldness that\nwould not show how deeply moved he", "will,\" called Mrs. Holly, over her shoulder, as she hurried\ninto the house. In an unbelievably short time she was back, her face\nbeaming.\n\n\"He's started, so soon,\" she nodded. \"He's crazy with joy, Mollie said.\nHe even left part of his breakfast, he was in such a hurry. So I guess\nwe'll see him all right.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, we'll see him all right,\" echoed Simeon Holly grimly. \"But\nthat isn't telling what we'll", "But Mrs. Holly, with a vexed gesture, stopped him.\n\n\"Never mind, little boy. I might have known--brought up as you have\nbeen. Of course you could not appreciate such things as these. Throw\nthem away, indeed!\" And she fell to work again; but this time her\nfingers carried a something in their touch that was almost like the\ncaress a mother might bestow upon an aggrieved child.\n\nDavid, vaguely disturbed and uncomfortable, watched her with troubled\neyes; then, apologetically, he", "ost\nson John came to the Holly farmhouse.\n\nDownstairs in the kitchen, Simeon Holly stood, with the letter in his\nhand.\n\n\"Ellen, we've got a letter from--John,\" he said. That Simeon Holly\nspoke of it at all showed how very far along HIS unfamiliar way he had\ncome since the last letter from John had arrived.\n\n\"From--John? Oh, Simeon! From John?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nSimeon sat down and tried to hide the shaking of his hand as he ran", "old at her side. Upon catching sight\nof Mrs. Holly she burst into a torrent of unintelligible words,\nsupplemented by numerous and vehement gestures.\n\nMrs. Holly shrank back, and cast appealing eyes toward her husband who\nat that moment had come across the yard from the barn.\n\n\"Simeon, can you tell what she wants?\"\n\nAt sight of the newcomer on the scene, the strange woman began again,\nwith even more volubility.\n\n\"No,\" said Simeon Holly, after a moment's sc", "him.\n\nThere were times, to be sure, when there was nothing but rejoicing\nwithin him that he was able thus to aid the Hollys. There were other\ntimes when there was nothing but the sore heartache because of the\ngreat work out in the beautiful world that could now never be done; and\nbecause of the unlovely work at hand that must be done. To tell the\ntruth, indeed, David's entire conception of life had become suddenly a\nchaos of puzzling contradictions.\n\nTo Mr. Jack, one day, David went with his per", "Mrs. Holly's tear-wet, yet radiant face, he collapsed\nlimply.\n\n\"Gosh!\" he muttered. \"Say, do you know, I didn't s'pose I did care so\nmuch! I reckon I'll go an' tell Mr. Jack. He'll want ter hear.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nPUZZLES\n\nDavid's convalescence was picturesque, in a way. As soon as he was\nable, like a king he sat upon his throne and received his subjects; and\na", "nestled in their arms when the day was done. And here,\ntoo, the Hollys were learning; though the thing thus learned was hidden\ndeep in their hearts.\n\nIt was not long after David's first visit that the boy went again to\n\"The House that Jack Built,\" as the Gurnseys called their tiny home.\n(Though in reality it had been Jack's father who had built the house.\nJack and Jill, however, did not always deal with realities.) It was not\na pleasant afternoon. There was a light mist in the air, and David was", "it, David compared it with the\nmagnificence he had just seen. His voice choked as he answered.\n\n\"He isn't well, Lady of the Roses, and he's unhappy. He's awfully\nunhappy.\"\n\nMiss Holbrook's slender figure came up with a jerk.\n\n\"What do you mean, boy? How do you know he's unhappy? Has he said so?\"\n\n\"No; but Mrs. Holly told me about him. He's sick; and he'd just found\nhis work to do out", "you know.\"\n\n\"Eh? What?\" stammered the man, not knowing whether to believe his eyes,\nor his ears. This boy who fought like a demon and talked like a saint,\nand who, though battered and bruised, prattled of the \"beautiful world\"\nhe had found, was most disconcerting.\n\n\"Why, Jack, don't you know?\" whispered the little girl agitatedly.\n\"He's the boy at Mr. Holly's that they took.\" Then, still more softly:\n\"He's the little", "others understand. She had turned away with a despairing shake of her\nhead, when suddenly she gave a wild cry of joy and wheeled about, her\nwhole face alight.\n\nThe Hollys and Perry Larson saw then that David had come out onto the\nporch and was speaking to the woman--and his words were just as\nunintelligible as the woman's had been.\n\nMrs. Holly and Perry Larson stared. Simeon Holly interrupted David with\na sharp:--\n\n\"Do you, then, understand this woman, boy?\"\n\n\"Why", "\"Why, I--I don't know, David,\" murmured Mrs. Holly, with a helpless\nglance at her husband stalking on ahead. \"I--I didn't know there were\nsuch things to--to know.\"\n\nThere was more, much more, that David said before the walk came to an\nend. And though, when it did end, neither Simeon Holly nor his wife\nsaid a word of its having been a pleasure or a profit, there was yet on\ntheir faces something of the peace and rest and quietness that belonged\nto the woods they had left", "smiles, and her last\nadoring glance was for David, waving his hand to her from the porch\nsteps.\n\nIn the afternoon David took his violin and went off toward the hill\nbehind the house for a walk. He had asked Mrs. Holly to accompany him,\nbut she had refused, though she was not sweeping or dusting at the\ntime. She was doing nothing more important, apparently, than making\nholes in a piece of white cloth, and sewing them up again with a needle\nand thread.\n\nDavid had then asked Mr. Holly to go; but his", "Where do you live?\"\n\nThe boy's face clouded.\n\n\"I'm David--just David. I live at Farmer Holly's now; but I did live on\nthe mountain with--father, you know.\"\n\nA great light of understanding broke over Miss Holbrook's face. She\ndropped back into her seat.\n\n\"Oh, I remember,\" she murmured. \"You're the little--er--boy whom he\ntook. I have heard the story. So THAT is who you are,\" she added, the\nold look of aversion coming", "so kind to him, let David understand that he was\nin deep disgrace, though she was very tender to his wounds.\n\nDavid did venture to ask her, however, before he went upstairs to bed:--\n\n\"Mrs. Holly, who are those people--Jack and Jill--that were so good to\nme this afternoon?\"\n\n\"They are John Gurnsey and his sister, Julia; but the whole town knows\nthem by the names they long ago gave themselves, 'Jack' and 'Jill.'\"\n\n\"And do they live all alone in the little house", "world through\nDavid's eyes.\n\nNor were these all of David's friends to whom Mr. and Mrs. Holly were\nintroduced on that memorable walk. There were the birds, and the\nsquirrels, and, in fact, everything that had life. And each one he\ngreeted joyously by name, as he would greet a friend whose home and\nhabits he knew. Here was a wonderful woodpecker, there was a beautiful\nbluejay. Ahead, that brilliant bit of color that flashed across their\npath was a tanager. Once,", "from the Junction--what wears caps, ye know, an'\nmakes yer feel as if they knew it all, an' you didn't know nothin'. An'\nthen there's Mr. an' Mis' Holly besides. If they had THEIR way, there\nwouldn't neither of, em let him out o' their sight fur a minute,\nthey're that cut up about it.\"\n\n\"I fancy they think a good deal of the boy--as we all do,\" murmured the\nyounger man, a little unsteadily.\n\n" ], [ "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "thieves, but he knew what they were. Only\na month before a man had tried to steal the violins from the cabin; and\nhe was a thief, the milk-boy said. David flushed now again, angrily, as\nhe faced the closed door. But he did not tarry. He turned and ran to\nhis father.\n\n\"Father, come away, quick! You must come away,\" he choked.\n\nSo urgent was the boy's voice that almost unconsciously the sick man\ngot to his feet. With shaking hands he thrust the notes he", "Where do you live?\"\n\nThe boy's face clouded.\n\n\"I'm David--just David. I live at Farmer Holly's now; but I did live on\nthe mountain with--father, you know.\"\n\nA great light of understanding broke over Miss Holbrook's face. She\ndropped back into her seat.\n\n\"Oh, I remember,\" she murmured. \"You're the little--er--boy whom he\ntook. I have heard the story. So THAT is who you are,\" she added, the\nold look of aversion coming", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "laughing now. He was watching his father with startled\neyes. David had not known what anxiety was. He was finding out\nnow--though he but vaguely realized that something was not right. For\nsome time his father had said but little, and that little had been in a\nvoice that was thick and unnatural-sounding. He was walking fast, yet\nDavid noticed that every step seemed an effort, and that every breath\ncame in short gasps. His eyes were very bright, and were fixedly bent\non the road ahead, as if even the haste he was making was", "They, too,\nnever raised their eyes to the blue sky outside, nor even to the\ncrimson roses that peeped in at the window. They seemed rather to be\nlooking always for dirt, yet not pleased when they found it--especially\nif it had been tracked in on the heel of a small boy's shoe!\n\nMore extraordinary than all this to David, however, was the fact that\nthese people regarded HIM, not themselves, as being strange. As if it\nwere not the most natural thing in the world to live with one's father\nin one'", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "There was left finally upon the ground only David alone.\nBut when David did at last appear, the little girl burst into tears\nanew.\n\n\"Oh, Jack, he's killed--I know he's killed,\" she wailed. \"And he was so\nnice and--and pretty. And now--look at him! Ain't he a sight?\"\n\nDavid was not killed, but he was--a sight. His blouse was torn, his tie\nwas gone, and his face and hands were covered with dirt and blood.\nAbove one eye was an ugly-looking", "\n\nNot until David had said good-bye some time later, did he remember the\npurpose--the special purpose--for which he had come. He turned back\nwith a radiant face.\n\n\"Oh, and Mr. Jack, I 'most forgot,\" he cried. \"I was going to tell you.\nI saw you yesterday--I did, and I almost waved to you.\"\n\n\"Did you? Where were you?\"\n\n\"Over there in the window--the tower window\" he crowed jubilantly.\n\n\"Oh, you went again, then, I suppose", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "round, tanned, and just now a bit anxious, flashed out of\nthe dark.\n\n\"Oh, please, sir, if you would speak lower,\" pleaded the boy. \"He's so\ntired! I'm David, sir, and that's father. We came in here to rest and\nsleep.\"\n\nSimeon Holly's unrelenting gaze left the boy's face and swept that of\nthe man lying back on the hay. The next instant he lowered the lantern\nand leaned nearer, putting forth a cautious hand. At once he", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "getting cold!\"\n\nSlowly, with the aid of the boy's firm hands, the man pulled himself\nhalf to a sitting posture. His cheeks, like the boy's, were red--but\nnot with health. His eyes were a little wild, but his voice was low and\nvery tender, like a caress.\n\n\"David--it's my little son David!\"\n\n\"Of course it's David! Who else should it be?\" laughed the boy. \"Come!\"\nAnd he tugged at the man's hands.\n\nThe man rose then, un", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "--though she was not more surprised than was Larson himself. For\nboth of them, however, there came at this moment a still greater\nsurprise. Simeon Holly leaned forward suddenly, the stern lines quite\ngone from his lips, and his face working with emotion as he drew David\ntoward him.\n\n\"You're a good son, boy,--a good loyal son; and--and I wish you were\nmine! I believe you. He didn't steal it, and I won't steal it, either.\nBut I will use it, since you are so", "sprang quickly forward.\n\n\"Father, what is it? WHAT IS IT?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Daddy, why don't you speak to me? See, it's David!\"\n\nWith a painful effort the man roused himself and sat up. For a moment\nhe gazed dully into the boy's face; then a half-forgotten something\nseemed to stir him into feverish action. With shaking fingers he handed\nDavid his watch and a small ivory miniature. Then he searched his\npockets until on the ground", "\"Father's.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" He hesitated; then, a little severely, he observed: \"This is a\nfine instrument, boy,--a very fine instrument.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David, with a cheerful smile. \"Father said it was. I like\nit, too. This is an Amati, but the other is a Stradivarius. I don't\nknow which I do like best, sometimes, only this is mine.\"\n\nWith a half-smothered ejaculation John Holly fell back limply.\n\n\"Then you--" ], [ "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "They, too,\nnever raised their eyes to the blue sky outside, nor even to the\ncrimson roses that peeped in at the window. They seemed rather to be\nlooking always for dirt, yet not pleased when they found it--especially\nif it had been tracked in on the heel of a small boy's shoe!\n\nMore extraordinary than all this to David, however, was the fact that\nthese people regarded HIM, not themselves, as being strange. As if it\nwere not the most natural thing in the world to live with one's father\nin one'", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "laughing now. He was watching his father with startled\neyes. David had not known what anxiety was. He was finding out\nnow--though he but vaguely realized that something was not right. For\nsome time his father had said but little, and that little had been in a\nvoice that was thick and unnatural-sounding. He was walking fast, yet\nDavid noticed that every step seemed an effort, and that every breath\ncame in short gasps. His eyes were very bright, and were fixedly bent\non the road ahead, as if even the haste he was making was", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "he added, his eyes on the cause of the\ntrouble, now curled in a little gray bunch of content on the window\nsill. \"But I don't know yet who you are. Who is your father? Where does\nhe live?\"\n\nDavid shook his head. As was always the case when his father was\nmentioned, his face grew wistful and his eyes dreamy.\n\n\"He doesn't live here anywhere,\" murmured the boy. \"In the far country\nhe is waiting for me to come to him and tell him of the beautiful world\nI have found,", "refusal was even more\nstrangely impatient than his wife's had been.\n\n\"And why, pray, should I go for a useless walk now--or any time, for\nthat matter?\" he demanded sharply.\n\nDavid had shrunk back unconsciously, though he had still smiled.\n\n\"Oh, but it wouldn't be a useless walk, sir. Father said nothing was\nuseless that helped to keep us in tune, you know.\"\n\n\"In tune!\"\n\n\"I mean, you looked as father used to look sometimes, when he felt out\nof tune", "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you.", "\n\"But, David,\"--the man was speaking very gently now. He had motioned\nthe boy to a low seat by his side. The little girl was standing near,\nher eyes alight with wondering interest. \"He must have had a name, you\nknow, just the same. Didn't you ever hear any one call him anything?\nThink, now.\"\n\n\"No.\" David said the single word, and turned his eyes away. It had\noccurred to him, since he had come to live in the valley, that perhaps\nhis father did not want to have his name", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from", "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "work about the house. Did you never do any of that?\"\n\nDavid gave a relieved laugh.\n\n\"Oh, you mean getting the meals and tidying up the house,\" he replied.\n\"Oh, yes, I did that with father, only\"--his face grew wistful--\"I'm\nafraid I didn't do it very well. My bacon was never as nice and crisp\nas father's, and the fire was always spoiling my potatoes.\"\n\n\"Humph! bacon and potatoes, indeed!\" scorned Simeon Holly. \"Well", "\n\n\"I told you. We were all alone, father and I, in the little house far\nup on the mountain.\"\n\n\"And--your mother?\" Again David shook his head.\n\n\"She is an angel-mother, and angel-mothers don't live in houses, you\nknow.\"\n\nThere was a moment's pause; then gently the man asked:--\n\n\"And you always lived there?\"\n\n\"Six years, father said.\"\n\n\"And before that?\"\n\n\"I don't remember.\" There was a touch of injured reserve in the", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "\"Father's.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" He hesitated; then, a little severely, he observed: \"This is a\nfine instrument, boy,--a very fine instrument.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David, with a cheerful smile. \"Father said it was. I like\nit, too. This is an Amati, but the other is a Stradivarius. I don't\nknow which I do like best, sometimes, only this is mine.\"\n\nWith a half-smothered ejaculation John Holly fell back limply.\n\n\"Then you--" ], [ "\"Father's.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" He hesitated; then, a little severely, he observed: \"This is a\nfine instrument, boy,--a very fine instrument.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David, with a cheerful smile. \"Father said it was. I like\nit, too. This is an Amati, but the other is a Stradivarius. I don't\nknow which I do like best, sometimes, only this is mine.\"\n\nWith a half-smothered ejaculation John Holly fell back limply.\n\n\"Then you--", "do--know?\" he challenged.\n\n\"Know--what?\"\n\n\"The value of that violin in your hands.\"\n\nThere was no answer. The boy's eyes were questioning.\n\n\"The worth, I mean,--what it's worth.\"\n\n\"Why, no--yes--that is, it's worth everything--to me,\" answered David,\nin a puzzled voice.\n\nWith an impatient gesture John Holly brushed this aside.\n\n\"But the other one--where is that?\"\n\n\"At Joe Glaspell's. I gave", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on", "it to him to play on, because he had n't\nany, and he liked to play so well.\"\n\n\"You GAVE it to him--a Stradivarius!\"\n\n\"I loaned it to him,\" corrected David, in a troubled voice. \"Being\nfather's, I couldn't bear to give it away. But Joe--Joe had to have\nsomething to play on.\"\n\n\"'Something to play on'! Father, he doesn't mean the River Street\nGlaspells?\" cried John Holly.\n\n\"I think he does.", "smiles, and her last\nadoring glance was for David, waving his hand to her from the porch\nsteps.\n\nIn the afternoon David took his violin and went off toward the hill\nbehind the house for a walk. He had asked Mrs. Holly to accompany him,\nbut she had refused, though she was not sweeping or dusting at the\ntime. She was doing nothing more important, apparently, than making\nholes in a piece of white cloth, and sewing them up again with a needle\nand thread.\n\nDavid had then asked Mr. Holly to go; but his", "John Holly remembered his\nyouth.\n\n\"Jove! but he's got the dandy instrument here,\" cried the player,\ndropping his bow after the first half-dozen superbly vibrant tones, and\ncarrying the violin to the window. A moment later he gave an amazed\nejaculation and turned on his father a dumfounded face.\n\n\"Great Scott, father! Where did that boy get this instrument? I KNOW\nsomething of violins, if I can't play them much; and this--! Where DID\nhe", ", whipping his violin from its case, and, after a swift\ntesting of the strings, plunging into a weird, haunting little melody.\n\nIn the doorway, Mrs. Holly, bewildered, yet bewitched, stood\nmotionless, her eyes half-fearfully, half-longingly fixed on David's\nglorified face. She was still in the same position when Simeon Holly\ncame around the corner of the house.\n\n\"Well, Ellen,\" he began, with quiet scorn, after a moment's stern\nwatching of", "at what he\nfancied would come from a violin played by a boy like the one before\nhim. (Jack could play the violin himself a little--enough to know it\nsome, and love it more.) \"Hm-m; well, and what else do you do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, except to go for walks and read.\"\n\n\"Nothing!--a big boy like you--and on Simeon Holly's farm?\" Voice and\nmanner showed that Jack was not unacquainted with Simeon Holly and his\nmethods and opinions.\n\nDavid laughed gle", "one--you're laughing at me. Oh, I'm going to play\nyou--all of you. You'll make such a pretty song, you're so different\nfrom each other!\" And David leaped lightly to his feet and ran around\nto the side porch for his violin.\n\nFive minutes later, Simeon Holly, coming into the kitchen, heard the\nsound of a violin through the open window. At the same moment his eyes\nfell on the woodbox, empty save for a few small sticks at the bottom.\nWith an angry frown he strode", "be at home up\nthere. He said in my violin were all those things I'm wanting--so bad!\"\n\nWith a little choking breath, David tucked the note back into his\npocket and reached for his violin.\n\nSome time later, Mrs. Holly, dusting the chairs in the parlor, stopped\nher work, tiptoed to the door, and listened breathlessly. When she\nturned back, still later, to her work, her eyes were wet.\n\n\"I wonder why, when he plays, I always get to thinking of--John,\" she", "and the birds and squirrels and brooks are really in my\nviolin, you know. And--\" But with an angry frown Simeon Holly stalked\naway, motioning Larson to follow him; and with a merry glance and a low\nchuckle Higgins turned his horse about and drove from the yard. A\nmoment later David found himself alone with Mrs. Holly, who was looking\nat him with wistful, though slightly fearful eyes.\n\n\"Did you have all the breakfast you wanted?\" she asked timidly,\nresorting,", "an\nindefinable change in his father, and the position of the boy David, in\nthe household--John Holly was still remembering his own repressed youth.\n\n\"Hm-m,\" he murmured, softly picking the strings, then drawing across\nthem a tentative bow. \"I've a fiddle at home that I play sometimes. Do\nyou mind if I--tune her up?\"\n\nA flicker of something that was very near to humor flashed from his\nfather's eyes.\n\n\"Oh, no. We are used to that--now.\" And again", "men with the cart. Yesterday he had not liked it\nvery well; but now--nothing mattered now. And with a satisfied sigh\nDavid put his precious gold away again behind the books in the cupboard.\n\nDavid found a new song in his violin the next morning. To be sure, he\ncould not play it--much of it--until four o'clock in the afternoon\ncame; for Mr. Holly did not like violins to be played in the morning,\neven on days that were not especially the Lord's. There was too much\nwork to do. So", "-cherub\nstraight from heaven--which, in fact, he was, in his doting\ngrandparents' eyes.\n\nJohn Holly had been at his old home less than four hours when he\nchanced upon David's violin. He was with his father and mother at the\ntime. There was no one else in the room. With a sidelong glance at his\nparents, he picked up the instrument--John Holly had not forgotten his\nown youth. His violin-playing in the old days had not been welcome, he\nremembered.\n\n\"A fiddle", "Lots of days we'd go to walk; then, when\nwe got home, he'd have me tell him, with my violin, what I'd seen. And\nnow he says I'm to stay here.\"\n\n\"Here!\" It was the quick, stern voice of Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David earnestly; \"to learn about the beautiful world.\nDon't you remember? And he said I was not to want to go back to my\nmountains; that I would not need to, anyway, because the mountains, and\nthe sky,", "on, isn't it? Now,\nlisten!\"\n\nAnd Simeon Holly listened--but it was not the violin that he heard. It\nwas the voice of a little curly-headed boy out of the past.\n\nWhen David stopped playing some time later, only the woman sat watching\nhim--the man was over at his desk, pen in hand.\n\nJohn, John's wife, and John's boy came the day before Christmas, and\ngreat was the excitement in the Holly farmhouse. John was found to be\nbig, strong, and bronzed with the", ", tell\nme it's owned by this boy who, it's safe to say, doesn't know how to\nplay sixteen notes on it correctly, to say nothing of appreciating\nthose he does play; and who, by your own account, is nothing but--\" A\nswiftly uplifted hand of warning stayed the words on his lips. He\nturned to see David himself in the doorway.\n\n\"Come in, David,\" said Simeon Holly quietly. \"My son wants to hear you\nplay. I don't think he has heard you.\" And again", "But Mrs. Holly, with a vexed gesture, stopped him.\n\n\"Never mind, little boy. I might have known--brought up as you have\nbeen. Of course you could not appreciate such things as these. Throw\nthem away, indeed!\" And she fell to work again; but this time her\nfingers carried a something in their touch that was almost like the\ncaress a mother might bestow upon an aggrieved child.\n\nDavid, vaguely disturbed and uncomfortable, watched her with troubled\neyes; then, apologetically, he", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "counted by the dial,\"\nshe explained a little fretfully.\n\nDavid's face radiated delight.\n\n\"Oh, but I like that!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"You like it!\"\n\n\"Yes. I should like to be one myself, you know.\"\n\n\"Well, really! And how, pray?\" In spite of herself a faint gleam of\ninterest came into Miss Holbrook's eyes.\n\nDavid laughed and dropped himself easily to the ground at her feet. He\nwas holding his violin on his knees now.\n\n\"Why, it would" ], [ "!\" laughed David. \"We don't need that.\" And he laughed again,\nfor pure joy. Little use had David for bags or baggage!\n\nThey were more than halfway down the mountain now, and soon they\nreached a grass-grown road, little traveled, but yet a road. Still\nlater they came to where four ways crossed, and two of them bore the\nmarks of many wheels. By sundown the little brook at their side\nmurmured softly of quiet fields and meadows, and David knew that the\nvalley was reached.\n\nDavid was not", ". From above, the valley might look to be a fairyland of\nloveliness, but in reality it was nothing but a dismal waste of gloom,\ndecided David.\n\nDavid's father had torn a second page from his book and was beginning\nanother note, when the boy suddenly jumped to his feet. One of the\nstraggling houses was near the road where they sat, and its presence\nhad given David an idea. With swift steps he hurried to the front door\nand knocked upon it. In answer a tall, unsmiling woman appeared, and\nsaid,", "one, which was nearest of\nall; and it was toward this barn that David finally turned his father's\nsteps.\n\n\"We'll go there, daddy, if we can get in,\" he proposed softly. \"And\nwe'll stay all night and rest.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE VALLEY\n\nThe long twilight of the June day had changed into a night that was\nscarcely darker, so bright was the moonlight. Seen from the house, the\nbarn and the low buildings beyond loomed shadowy and unreal,", "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "; outside it\nbranded one as a thief!\n\nAlone with his father, David faced once more his problem. Where should\nthey go for the night? Plainly his father could not walk far. He had\nbegun to talk again, too,--low, half-finished sentences that David\ncould not understand, and that vaguely troubled him. There was a house\nnear by, and several others down the road toward the village; but David\nhad had all the experience he wanted that night with strange houses,\nand strange women. There was a barn, a big", "point where the mountain dropped in another\nsharp descent, wooded with scrubby firs and pines. At the left a\nfootpath led into the cool depths of the forest. But at the right the\nmountain fell away again and disclosed to view the picture David loved\nthe best of all: the far-reaching valley; the silver pool of the lake\nwith its ribbon of a river flung far out; and above it the grays and\ngreens and purples of the mountains that climbed one upon another's\nshoulders until the topmost thrust their heads into the wide", "Where do you live?\"\n\nThe boy's face clouded.\n\n\"I'm David--just David. I live at Farmer Holly's now; but I did live on\nthe mountain with--father, you know.\"\n\nA great light of understanding broke over Miss Holbrook's face. She\ndropped back into her seat.\n\n\"Oh, I remember,\" she murmured. \"You're the little--er--boy whom he\ntook. I have heard the story. So THAT is who you are,\" she added, the\nold look of aversion coming", "must go, David. Come, son.\" And the man led the way across the\ngreen slope to the west.\n\nIt was a scarcely perceptible trail, but the man found it, and followed\nit with evident confidence. There was only the pause now and then to\nsteady his none-too-sure step, or to ease the burden of the bag. Very\nsoon the forest lay all about them, with the birds singing over their\nheads, and with numberless tiny feet scurrying through the underbrush\non all sides. Just out of sight a brook babbled no", "? Now, what is the trouble? Tell me about it.\"\n\nDavid stirred uneasily. Instead of answering, he asked another question.\n\n\"Mr. Jack, it is a beautiful world, isn't it?\"\n\nFor a moment there was no, answer; then a low voice replied:--\n\n\"Your father said it was, David.\"\n\nAgain David moved restlessly.\n\n\"Yes; but father was on the mountain. And down here--well, down here\nthere are lots of things that I don't believe he knew about.\"\n\n\"What,", "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you.", "the sound of\nwheels, and of men's excited voices. There came also the twinkle of\nlanterns borne by hurrying hands, and the tramp of shuffling feet. In\nthe window David shivered. There were no wide sweep of mountain, hill,\nand valley, no Silver Lake, no restful hush, no daddy,--no beautiful\nThings that Were. There was only the dreary, hollow mockery of the\nThings they had Become.\n\nLong minutes later, David, with the violin in his arms, lay down upon", "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "\n\"But, David,\"--the man was speaking very gently now. He had motioned\nthe boy to a low seat by his side. The little girl was standing near,\nher eyes alight with wondering interest. \"He must have had a name, you\nknow, just the same. Didn't you ever hear any one call him anything?\nThink, now.\"\n\n\"No.\" David said the single word, and turned his eyes away. It had\noccurred to him, since he had come to live in the valley, that perhaps\nhis father did not want to have his name", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "rapturously, his eyes sweeping the scene before him:--\n\n\"Yes. I didn't suppose, anywhere, down here, there was a place one half\nso beautiful!\"\n\nAn odd feeling of uncanniness sent a swift exclamation to the lady's\nlips.\n\n\"'Down here'! What do you mean by that? You speak as if you came\nfrom--above,\" she almost laughed.\n\n\"I did,\" returned David simply. \"But even up there I never found\nanything quite like this,\"--with a sweep of his hands", "her there were\nno hours to count; she had said it herself. He could not understand how\nthis could be so; and the thought filled him with vague unrest and pain.\n\nPerhaps it was this restlessness that drove David to explore even more\npersistently the village itself, sending him into new streets in search\nof something strange and interesting. One day the sound of shouts and\nlaughter drew him to an open lot back of the church where some boys\nwere at play.\n\nDavid still knew very little of boys. In his mountain home he had never\nhad them for playmates" ], [ "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "his\npocket; \"then we can both go.\" And he dropped himself down at his\nfather's side.\n\nThe man shook his head feebly, and pointed again to the gold-pieces.\n\n\"Take them, David,--hide them,\" he chattered with pale lips.\n\nAlmost impatiently the boy began picking up the money and tucking it\ninto his pockets.\n\n\"But, father, I'm not going without you,\" he declared stoutly, as the\nlast bit of gold slipped out of sight, and a horse and wagon r", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "sprang quickly forward.\n\n\"Father, what is it? WHAT IS IT?\"\n\nThere was no answer.\n\n\"Daddy, why don't you speak to me? See, it's David!\"\n\nWith a painful effort the man roused himself and sat up. For a moment\nhe gazed dully into the boy's face; then a half-forgotten something\nseemed to stir him into feverish action. With shaking fingers he handed\nDavid his watch and a small ivory miniature. Then he searched his\npockets until on the ground", "\nof a father's thought for the young eyes that would read it. It was\nwritten on two of the notebook's leaves, and at the end came the single\nword \"Daddy.\"\n\n\nDavid, my boy [read Higgins aloud], in the far country I am waiting for\nyou. Do not grieve, for that will grieve me. I shall not return, but\nsome day you will come to me, your violin at your chin, and the bow\ndrawn across the strings to greet me. See that it tells me of the\nbeautiful world", "he need--that?\"\n\n\"No, or he'd have taken it with him.\"\n\nDavid had fallen silent at this. He had remained strangely silent\nindeed for some days; then, out in the woods with his father one\nmorning, he gave a joyous shout. He was standing by the ice-covered\nbrook, and looking at a little black hole through which the hurrying\nwater could be plainly seen.\n\n\"Daddy, oh, daddy, I know now how it is, about being--dead.\"\n\n\"Why--David!\"\n\n\"", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "all this, too, was on David's\nuplifted, rapturous face.\n\nAs the last rose-glow turned to gray and the last strain quivered into\nsilence, the man spoke. His voice was almost harsh with self-control.\n\n\"David, the time has come. We'll have to give it up--you and I.\"\n\nThe boy turned wonderingly, his face still softly luminous.\n\n\"Give what up?\"\n\n\"This--all this.\"\n\n\"This! Why, father, what do you mean", "The letter? Oh, you're welcome to read the letter,\" he said, as he\nhanded over a bit of folded paper.\n\nSimeon took it gingerly and examined it.\n\nIt was a leaf torn apparently from a note book. It was folded three\ntimes, and bore on the outside the superscription \"To whom it may\nconcern.\" The handwriting was peculiar, irregular, and not very\nlegible. But as near as it could be deciphered, the note ran thus:--\n\n\nNow that the time has come when I must give David back to", ". He wrote it to me.\"\n\n\"Wrote it to you!\" cried the man, sitting suddenly erect.\n\n\"Yes. It was in his pocket, you see. They--found it.\" David's voice was\nvery low, and not quite steady.\n\n\"David, may I see--that letter?\"\n\nThe boy hesitated; then slowly he drew it from his pocket.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Jack. I'll let YOU see it.\"\n\nReverently, tenderly, but very eagerly the man took the note and read\nit through, hoping somewhere", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "he came to drawing a timid bow across\nthe strings. In an incredibly short time, then, he was picking out bits\nof melody; and by the end of a fortnight David had brought his father's\nviolin for Joe to practice on.\n\n\"I can't GIVE it to you--not for keeps,\" David had explained, a bit\ntremulously, \"because it was daddy's, you know; and when I see it, it\nseems almost as if I was seeing him. But you may take it. Then you can\nhave it here to play", "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n", "ember all I've\ntold you.\"\n\nOnce again David asked his question, but this time the man only turned\nback to the photograph, muttering something the boy could not\nunderstand.\n\nAfter that David did not question any more. He was too amazed, too\ndistressed. He had never before seen his father like this. With nervous\nhaste the man was setting the little room to rights, crowding things\ninto the bag, and packing other things away in an old trunk. His cheeks\nwere very red, and his eyes very bright. He talked, too, almost", "woods. David\nwas six then.\n\n\"Why, daddy, he's asleep, and he won't wake up!\" he had cried. Then,\nafter a gentle touch: \"And he's cold--oh, so cold!\"\n\nThe father had hurried his son away at the time, and had evaded his\nquestions; and David had seemed content. But the next day the boy had\ngone back to the subject. His eyes were wide then, and a little\nfrightened.\n\n\"Father, what is it to be--dead?\"\n\n\"What", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you." ], [ "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "his\npocket; \"then we can both go.\" And he dropped himself down at his\nfather's side.\n\nThe man shook his head feebly, and pointed again to the gold-pieces.\n\n\"Take them, David,--hide them,\" he chattered with pale lips.\n\nAlmost impatiently the boy began picking up the money and tucking it\ninto his pockets.\n\n\"But, father, I'm not going without you,\" he declared stoutly, as the\nlast bit of gold slipped out of sight, and a horse and wagon r", "have you kept this gold in a place\nlike that?\"\n\n\"Why, there wasn't anything else to do with it,\" answered the boy\nperplexedly. \"I hadn't any use for it, you know, and father said to\nkeep it till I needed it.\"\n\n\"'Hadn't any use for it'!\" blustered Larson from the doorway. \"Jiminy!\nNow, ain't that jest like that boy?\"\n\nBut David hurried on with his explanation.\n\n\"We never used to use them--father and I--except to", "\n\nDavid eyed him anxiously.\n\n\"Won't they--do?\" he faltered. \"There aren't a thousand; there's only a\nhundred and six; but--\"\n\n\"Do!\" cut in the man, excitedly. He had been examining the gold-piece\nat close range. \"Do! Well, I reckon they'll do. By Jiminy!--and ter\nthink you've had this up yer sleeve all this time! Well, I'll believe\nanythin' of yer now--anythin'!", "'--just what I was going to have with the\ngold-pieces,\" cried David joyously. Then, uttering a sharp cry of\nconsternation, he clapped his fingers to his lips.\n\n\"Your--what?\" asked the man.\n\n\"N--nothing, really, Mr. Holly,--Uncle Simeon,--n--nothing.\"\n\nSomething, either the boy's agitation, or the luckless mention of the\ngold-pieces sent a sudden dismayed suspicion into Simeon Holly's eyes.\n\n\"Your 'start", "and six were surely enough to give him a\n\"start.\"\n\nA start! David closed his eyes and pictured it. To go on with his\nviolin, to hear good music, to be with people who understood what he\nsaid when he played! That was what Mr. Jack had said a \"start\" was. And\nthis gold--these round shining bits of gold--could bring him this!\nDavid swept the little piles into a jingling heap, and sprang to his\nfeet with both fists full of his suddenly beloved wealth. With boyish\nglee he", "'?--the 'gold-pieces'? David, what do you mean?\"\n\nDavid shook his head. He did not intend to tell. But gently,\npersistently, Simeon Holly questioned until the whole piteous little\ntale lay bare before him: the hopes, the house of dreams, the sacrifice.\n\nDavid saw then what it means when a strong man is shaken by an emotion\nthat has mastered him; and the sight awed and frightened the boy.\n\n\"Mr. Holly, is it because I'm--going--that you care--so much", ",--they had said he\nmust go to school,--he would tell them then, and go away instead. He\nwould see. By that time they would believe him, perhaps, when he showed\nthe gold-pieces. They would not think he had--STOLEN them. It was\nAugust now; he would wait. But meanwhile he could think--he could\nalways be thinking of the wonderful thing that this gold was one day to\nbring to him.\n\nEven work, to David, did not seem work now. In the morning he was to\nrake hay behind the", "reached forth an eager hand and had almost clutched\nthe gold when a sudden change came to his face. With a stern\nejaculation he drew back.\n\n\"Boy, where did that money come from?\" he challenged.\n\nDavid sighed in a discouraged way. It seemed that, always, the showing\nof this gold mean't questioning--eternal questioning.\n\n\"Surely,\" continued Simeon Holly, \"you did not--\" With the boy's frank\ngaze upturned to his, the man could not finish his sentence.\n\nBefore David", "Mr. Jack,\n\"particularly as you aren't going to do it just now. There's the money,\nyou know,--and we haven't got that.\"\n\n\"And it takes money?\"\n\n\"Well--yes. You can't get those things here in Hinsdale, you know; and\nit takes money, to get away, and to live away after you get there.\"\n\nA sudden light transfigured David's face.\n\n\"Mr. Jack, would gold do it?--lots of little round gold-pieces?\"\n\n", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "bade him refuse\nto take food from this woman.... But there was his father--his poor\nfather, who was so tired; and there was his own stomach clamoring to be\nfed. No, he could not refuse. And with slow steps and hanging head\nDavid went around the corner of the house to the rear.\n\nAs the half-loaf of bread and the pail of milk were placed in his\nhands, David remembered suddenly that in the village store on the\nmountain, his father paid money for his food. David was glad, now, that\nhe had those gold-", "almost leaped from his\nchair.\n\n\"One thousand and sixty dollars!\" he gasped. Then, to David: \"Boy, in\nHeaven's name, who are you?\"\n\n\"I don't know--only David.\" The boy spoke wearily, with a grieved sob\nin his voice. He was very tired, a good deal perplexed, and a little\nangry. He wished, if no one wanted this gold, that he could take it\nupstairs again to the chimney cupboard; or, if they objected to that,\nthat they", "\"I think it would, David, if there were enough of them.\"\n\n\"Many as a hundred?\"\n\n\"Sure--if they were big enough. Anyway, David, they'd start you, and\nI'm thinking you wouldn't need but a start before you'd be coining\ngold-pieces of your own out of that violin of yours. But why? Anybody\nyou know got as 'many as a hundred' gold-pieces he wants to get rid of?\"\n\nFor a moment David, his delighted thoughts flying to the gold-pieces in\nthe", "his clothing.\n\nThe gold in his sagging pockets clinked and jingled musically; and once\nhalf a dozen pieces rolled out upon the floor. For a moment the boy\nlooked as if he were going to let them remain where they were. But the\nnext minute, with an impatient gesture, he had picked them up and\nthrust them deep into one of his pockets, silencing their jingling with\nhis handkerchief.\n\nOnce dressed, David picked up his violin and stepped softly into the\nhall. At first no sound reached his ears; then from", "ain't more 'n a quarter of a mile for\nyou, now\" he finished cheerily, pointing with his whip to a cluster of\ntwinkling lights.\n\n\"Thank you, sir, thank you,\" breathed David gratefully, steadying his\nfather's steps. \"You've helped us lots. Thank you!\"\n\nIn David's heart was a wild desire to lay at his good man's feet all of\nhis shining gold-pieces as payment for this timely aid. But caution\nheld him back: it seemed that only in stores did money pay", "t you make a kind of an I O\nU of it, even if he is a kid? Then, some day you could pay him back.\nMeanwhile you'd be a-keepin' him, an' a-schoolin' him; an' that's\nsomethin'.\"\n\n\"I know, I know,\" nodded Simeon Holly thoughtfully, his eyes going from\nthe gold to David's face. Then, aloud, yet as if to himself, he\nbreathed: \"Boy, boy, who was your father? How came he by", "David could only snatch a strain or two very, very\nsoftly, while he was dressing; but that was enough to show him what a\nbeautiful song it was going to be. He knew what it was, at once, too.\nIt was the gold-pieces, and what they would bring. All through the day\nit tripped through his consciousness, and danced tantalizingly just out\nof reach. Yet he was wonderfully happy, and the day seemed short in\nspite of the heat and the weariness.\n\nAt four o'clock he hurried home and put", "he had all those others?\n\nDavid remembered now, suddenly, that his father had said to hide\nthem--to hide them until he needed them. David was relieved at once.\nWhy had he not thought of it before? He knew just the place, too,--the\nlittle cupboard behind the chimney there in this very room! And with a\nsatisfied sigh, David got to his feet, gathered all the little yellow\ndisks from his pockets, and tucked them well out of sight behind the\npiles of books on the cupboard shelves. There, too, he hid the", "men with the cart. Yesterday he had not liked it\nvery well; but now--nothing mattered now. And with a satisfied sigh\nDavid put his precious gold away again behind the books in the cupboard.\n\nDavid found a new song in his violin the next morning. To be sure, he\ncould not play it--much of it--until four o'clock in the afternoon\ncame; for Mr. Holly did not like violins to be played in the morning,\neven on days that were not especially the Lord's. There was too much\nwork to do. So" ], [ ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "understand?\"\n\n\"New--to play?\"\n\n\"Yes--on my violin,\" explained David, a little breathlessly, softly\ntesting his violin. \"There's always something new in this, you know,\"\nhe hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, \"when there's\nanything new outside. Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how\nit's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out.\" And with a\njoyously rapt face he began to play.\n\n\"But, see here,", "\n\"Yes, oh, yes, I'll play,\" faltered David, bringing his violin hastily\nto position, and testing the strings with fingers that shook a little.\n\n\"There!\" breathed Joe, settling back in his chair with a contented\nsigh. \"Now, play it again--what you did before.\"\n\nBut David did not play what he did before--at first. There were no airy\ncloud-boats, no far-reaching sky, no birds, or murmuring forest brooks\nin his music this time. There were only the poverty-", "\n\n\"Does he?\" beamed David. \"But--\" He paused, listening, a quick frown on\nhis face.\n\nOver and over the violin was playing a single phrase--and the\nvariations in the phrase showed the indecision of the fingers and of\nthe mind that controlled them. Again and again with irritating\nsameness, yet with a still more irritating difference, came the\nsuccession of notes. And then David sprang to his feet, placing\nJuliette somewhat unceremoniously on the floor, much to that petted\nyoung", ", David did not know. If he found a kitten\nat play in the sunshine, he put it into a riotous abandonment of\ntumbling turns and trills--that a fretful baby heard and stopped its\nwailing, David also did not know. And once, just because the sky was\nblue and the air was sweet, and it was so good to be alive, David\nlifted his bow and put it all into a rapturous paean of ringing\nexultation--that a sick man in a darkened chamber above the street\nlifted", "music, and was crazy over David's violin; so David took down his other\none--the one that was his father's, you know--and showed him how to\npick out little tunes, just to take up his time so he wouldn't mind so\nmuch that he couldn't see. Now, Jack, wasn't that just like David?\nJack, I can't have anything happen to David!\"\n\n\"No, dear, no; of course not! I'm afraid we can't any of us, for that\nmatter,\" sighed Jack,", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you", "take up my violin and tell you about it!\"\n\n\"But it's Sunday--the Lord's Day,\" remonstrated the man sternly.\n\nDavid stood motionless, his eyes questioning.\n\n\"Are you quite a heathen, then?\" catechised the man sharply. \"Have they\nnever told you anything about God, boy?\"\n\n\"Oh, 'God'?--of course,\" smiled David, in open relief. \"God wraps up\nthe buds in their little brown blankets, and covers the roots with--\"\n\n\"I am not", "Y WANTED HIM. He had heard it\nwith his own ears, so there was no mistake. What now about all those\nlong days and nights ahead before he might go, violin in hand, to meet\nhis father in that far-away country? How was he to live those days and\nnights if nobody wanted him? How was his violin to speak in a voice\nthat was true and pure and full, and tell of the beautiful world, as\nhis father had said that it must do? David quite cried aloud at the\nthought. Then he thought of something else that his", "his violin for company David started out each day, unless he\nelected to stay indoors with his books. Sometimes it was toward the\nvillage that he turned his steps; sometimes it was toward the hills\nback of the town. Whichever way it was, there was always sure to be\nsomething waiting at the end for him and his violin to discover, if it\nwas nothing more than a big white rose in bloom, or a squirrel sitting\nby the roadside.\n\nVery soon, however, David discovered that there was something to be\nfound in his wander", "That sounded fine!\"\n\nThe boys stared, then sniffed disdainfully, and cast derisive glances\ninto each other's eyes--it appeared that this little sissy tramp boy\ndid not even know enough to discover when he was being laughed at!\n\n\"David! David! His name is David,\" they jeered into his face again.\n\"Come on, tune her up! We want ter dance.\"\n\n\"Play? Of course I'll play,\" cried David joyously, raising his violin\nand testing a string for its tone.\n\n\"Here,", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "with\nembarrassment, was nervously twisting the corner of her apron into a\nlittle knot. David tried to recollect what he had talked about a few\ndays before, and he wondered why he had so enjoyed himself then. He\nwished that something would happen--anything!--and then from an inner\nroom came the sound of a violin.\n\nDavid raised his head.\n\n\"It's Jack,\" stammered the little girl--who also had been wishing\nsomething would happen. \"He plays, same as you do, on the violin.\"", "his clothing.\n\nThe gold in his sagging pockets clinked and jingled musically; and once\nhalf a dozen pieces rolled out upon the floor. For a moment the boy\nlooked as if he were going to let them remain where they were. But the\nnext minute, with an impatient gesture, he had picked them up and\nthrust them deep into one of his pockets, silencing their jingling with\nhis handkerchief.\n\nOnce dressed, David picked up his violin and stepped softly into the\nhall. At first no sound reached his ears; then from", "at what he\nfancied would come from a violin played by a boy like the one before\nhim. (Jack could play the violin himself a little--enough to know it\nsome, and love it more.) \"Hm-m; well, and what else do you do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, except to go for walks and read.\"\n\n\"Nothing!--a big boy like you--and on Simeon Holly's farm?\" Voice and\nmanner showed that Jack was not unacquainted with Simeon Holly and his\nmethods and opinions.\n\nDavid laughed gle", "\n\"See here, boy, can't you do anything but fiddle?\" he demanded. Then,\nas David still continued to play, he added sharply: \"Did n't you hear\nme, boy?\"\n\nThe music stopped abruptly. David looked up with the slightly dazed air\nof one who has been summoned as from another world.\n\n\"Did you speak to me, sir?\" he asked.\n\n\"I did--twice. I asked if you never did anything but play that fiddle.\"\n\n\"You mean at home?\" David's face expressed mild wonder without", "his walk to-day,\nthough he found no captive crow to demand his sympathy, he found\nsomething else quite as heartrending, and as incomprehensible.\n\nIt was on the edge of the woods that he came upon two boys, each\ncarrying a rifle, a dead squirrel, and a dead rabbit. The threatened\nrain of the day before had not materialized, and David had his violin.\nHe had been playing softly when he came upon the boys where the path\nentered the woods.\n\n\"Oh!\" At sight of the boys and their", "the relatives, the adoring public, the mint of money--they\nare all David's now. But once each year, man grown though he is, he\npicks up his violin and journeys to a little village far up among the\nhills. There in a quiet kitchen he plays to an old man and an old\nwoman; and always to himself he says that he is practicing against the\ntime when, his violin at his chin and the bow drawn across the strings,\nhe shall go to meet his father in the far-away land, and tell him of\nthe beautiful world he has" ], [ "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n", "of position eased\nit. He was ill, very ill; and he knew it. Yet he also knew that, to\nDavid, sickness, pain, and death meant nothing--or, at most, words that\nhad always been lightly, almost unconsciously passed over. For the\nfirst time he wondered if, after all, his training--some of it--had\nbeen wise.\n\nFor six years he had had the boy under his exclusive care and guidance.\nFor six years the boy had eaten the food, worn the clothing, and\nstudied the books of his father's", "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "to David; indeed, as little as\npossible was said to David about anything after that morning when\nHiggins had given him his father's letter. At that time the men had\nmade one more effort to \"get track of SOMETHING,\" as Higgins had\ndespairingly put it. But the boy's answers to their questions were\nanything but satisfying, anything but helpful, and were often most\ndisconcerting. The boy was, in fact, regarded by most of the men, after\nthat morning, as being \"a little off\"; and was hence let severely alone", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "woods. David\nwas six then.\n\n\"Why, daddy, he's asleep, and he won't wake up!\" he had cried. Then,\nafter a gentle touch: \"And he's cold--oh, so cold!\"\n\nThe father had hurried his son away at the time, and had evaded his\nquestions; and David had seemed content. But the next day the boy had\ngone back to the subject. His eyes were wide then, and a little\nfrightened.\n\n\"Father, what is it to be--dead?\"\n\n\"What", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "\n\"But, David,\"--the man was speaking very gently now. He had motioned\nthe boy to a low seat by his side. The little girl was standing near,\nher eyes alight with wondering interest. \"He must have had a name, you\nknow, just the same. Didn't you ever hear any one call him anything?\nThink, now.\"\n\n\"No.\" David said the single word, and turned his eyes away. It had\noccurred to him, since he had come to live in the valley, that perhaps\nhis father did not want to have his name", "before him lay a shining pile of\ngold-pieces--to David there seemed to be a hundred of them.\n\n\"Take them--hide them--keep them. David, until you--need them,\" panted\nthe man. \"Then go--go on. I can't.\"\n\n\"Alone? Without you?\" demurred the boy, aghast. \"Why, father, I\ncouldn't! I don't know the way. Besides, I'd rather stay with you,\" he\nadded soothingly, as he slipped the watch and the miniature into", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "mean that he has gone--like the water in\nthe brook--to the far country?\" he faltered.\n\nSimeon Holly stared. Then he said more distinctly:--\n\n\"Your father is dead, boy.\"\n\n\"And he won't come back any more?\" David's voice broke now.\n\nThere was no answer. Mrs. Holly caught her breath convulsively and\nlooked away. Even Simeon Holly refused to meet the boy's pleading eyes.\n\nWith a quick cry David sprang to his father's side.\n\n\"But", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "\n\n\"But they go singing, father, like the little brook. You know I heard\nit!\"\n\nAnd there the matter had ended. David was ten now, and not yet for him\ndid death spell terror. Because of this David's father was relieved;\nand yet--still because of this--he was afraid.\n\n\"David,\" he said gently. \"Listen to me.\"\n\nThe boy turned with a long sigh.\n\n\"Yes, father.\"\n\n\"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women and\nchildren waiting for you.", "WAITING--over there!\"\n\nBut David apparently did not hear. He had turned and was playing softly\nas he walked away. Silently the Lady in Black knelt, listening, looking\nafter him. When she rose some time later and left the cemetery, the\nlight on her face was still there, deeper, more glorified.\n\nToward boys and girls--especially boys--of his own age, David\nfrequently turned wistful eyes. David wanted a friend, a friend who\nwould know and understand; a friend who would see things as he saw\nthe", "he need--that?\"\n\n\"No, or he'd have taken it with him.\"\n\nDavid had fallen silent at this. He had remained strangely silent\nindeed for some days; then, out in the woods with his father one\nmorning, he gave a joyous shout. He was standing by the ice-covered\nbrook, and looking at a little black hole through which the hurrying\nwater could be plainly seen.\n\n\"Daddy, oh, daddy, I know now how it is, about being--dead.\"\n\n\"Why--David!\"\n\n\"", ". He wrote it to me.\"\n\n\"Wrote it to you!\" cried the man, sitting suddenly erect.\n\n\"Yes. It was in his pocket, you see. They--found it.\" David's voice was\nvery low, and not quite steady.\n\n\"David, may I see--that letter?\"\n\nThe boy hesitated; then slowly he drew it from his pocket.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Jack. I'll let YOU see it.\"\n\nReverently, tenderly, but very eagerly the man took the note and read\nit through, hoping somewhere", "There was left finally upon the ground only David alone.\nBut when David did at last appear, the little girl burst into tears\nanew.\n\n\"Oh, Jack, he's killed--I know he's killed,\" she wailed. \"And he was so\nnice and--and pretty. And now--look at him! Ain't he a sight?\"\n\nDavid was not killed, but he was--a sight. His blouse was torn, his tie\nwas gone, and his face and hands were covered with dirt and blood.\nAbove one eye was an ugly-looking", "The letter? Oh, you're welcome to read the letter,\" he said, as he\nhanded over a bit of folded paper.\n\nSimeon took it gingerly and examined it.\n\nIt was a leaf torn apparently from a note book. It was folded three\ntimes, and bore on the outside the superscription \"To whom it may\nconcern.\" The handwriting was peculiar, irregular, and not very\nlegible. But as near as it could be deciphered, the note ran thus:--\n\n\nNow that the time has come when I must give David back to" ], [ "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "\"Why, I--I don't know, David,\" murmured Mrs. Holly, with a helpless\nglance at her husband stalking on ahead. \"I--I didn't know there were\nsuch things to--to know.\"\n\nThere was more, much more, that David said before the walk came to an\nend. And though, when it did end, neither Simeon Holly nor his wife\nsaid a word of its having been a pleasure or a profit, there was yet on\ntheir faces something of the peace and rest and quietness that belonged\nto the woods they had left", "no time in looking about for some one to\ntake the boy away.\n\nOn that first day Higgins, picking up the reins preparatory to driving\nfrom the yard, had said, with a nod of his head toward David:--\n\n\"Well, how about it, Holly? Shall we leave him here till we find\nsomebody that wants him?\"\n\n\"Why, y--yes, I suppose so,\" hesitated Simeon Holly, with uncordial\naccent.\n\nBut his wife, hovering in the background, hastened forward at once.\n\n\"Oh", "! Who plays?\" he asked.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"Oh, the boy. You say you--took him in? By the way, what an odd little\nshaver he is! Never did I see a BOY like HIM.\" Simeon Holly's head came\nup almost aggressively.\n\n\"David is a good boy--a very good boy, indeed, John. We think a great\ndeal of him.\"\n\nJohn Holly laughed lightly, yet his brow carried a puzzled frown. Two\nthings John Holly had not been able thus far to understand:", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "--though she was not more surprised than was Larson himself. For\nboth of them, however, there came at this moment a still greater\nsurprise. Simeon Holly leaned forward suddenly, the stern lines quite\ngone from his lips, and his face working with emotion as he drew David\ntoward him.\n\n\"You're a good son, boy,--a good loyal son; and--and I wish you were\nmine! I believe you. He didn't steal it, and I won't steal it, either.\nBut I will use it, since you are so", "yet with a difference--the difference\nthat comes from being really wanted instead of being merely dutifully\nkept. There were other differences, too, subtle differences that did\nnot show, perhaps, but that still were there.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Holly, more than ever now, were learning to look at the\nworld through David's eyes. One day--one wonderful day--they even went\nto walk in the woods with the boy; and whenever before had Simeon Holly\nleft his work for so frivolous a thing as a walk in the woods!\n\nIt was not", "\n\"She says no, thank you,\" translated David, with a smile, when he had\nreceived his answer. \"But the boy says he is, if you please.\"\n\n\"Then, tell them to come into the kitchen,\" directed Mrs. Holly,\nhurrying into the house.\n\n\"So you're French, are you?\" said Simeon Holly to David.\n\n\"French? Oh, no, sir,\" smiled David, proudly. \"I'm an American. Father\nsaid I was. He said I was born in this country.\"\n\n\"But", "? I never\nthought--or supposed--you'd--CARE,\" he faltered.\n\nThere was no answer. Simeon Holly's eyes were turned quite away.\n\n\"Uncle Simeon--PLEASE! I--I think I don't want to go, anyway. I--I'm\nsure I don't want to go--and leave YOU!\"\n\nSimeon Holly turned then, and spoke.\n\n\"Go? Of course you'll go, David. Do you think I'd tie you here to\nme--NOW?\" he", "at last, breaking a\nlong silence that had fallen between them. \"What can we do with him?\nDoesn't anybody want him?\"\n\n\"No, of course, nobody wants him,\" retorted her husband relentlessly.\n\nAnd at the words a small figure in a yellow-white nightshirt stopped\nshort. David, violin in hand, had fled from the little hot room, and\nstood now just inside the kitchen door.\n\n\"Who can want a child that has been brought up in that heathenish\nfashion?\" continued Simeon Holly. \"According to", "Half an hour later Simeon Holly climbed the stairs to David's room, and\nas gently and plainly as he could told the boy of this great, good\nthing that had come to him.\n\nDavid was amazed, but overjoyed. That he was found to be the son of a\nfamous man affected him not at all, only so far as it seemed to set his\nfather right in other eyes--in David's own, the man had always been\nsupreme. But the going away--the marvelous going away--filled him with\nexcited wonder.\n\n", "'?--the 'gold-pieces'? David, what do you mean?\"\n\nDavid shook his head. He did not intend to tell. But gently,\npersistently, Simeon Holly questioned until the whole piteous little\ntale lay bare before him: the hopes, the house of dreams, the sacrifice.\n\nDavid saw then what it means when a strong man is shaken by an emotion\nthat has mastered him; and the sight awed and frightened the boy.\n\n\"Mr. Holly, is it because I'm--going--that you care--so much", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "the scene before him, \"have you nothing better to do this\nmorning than to listen to this minstrel fellow?\"\n\n\"Oh, Simeon! Why, yes, of course. I--I forgot--what I was doing,\"\nfaltered Mrs. Holly, flushing guiltily from neck to brow as she turned\nand hurried into the house.\n\nDavid, on the porch steps, seemed to have heard nothing. He was still\nplaying, his rapt gaze on the distant sky-line, when Simeon Holly\nturned upon him with disapproving eyes.\n", "the gold, but his\nlips set into rigid lines.\n\n\"That money is the boy's, Larson. It isn't mine,\" he said.\n\n\"He's give it to ye.\"\n\nSimeon Holly shook his head.\n\n\"David is nothing but a child, Perry. He doesn't realize at all what he\nis doing, nor how valuable his gift is.\"\n\n\"I know, sir, but you DID take him in, when there wouldn't nobody else\ndo it,\" argued Larson. \"An', anyhow, couldn'", "look, and stalked down\nthe stairs.\n\nOn the porch long minutes later, when once more David had gone to bed,\nSimeon Holly said coldly to his wife:--\n\n\"I suppose you realize, Ellen, just what you've pledged yourself to, by\nthat absurd outburst of yours in the barn to-night--and all because\nthat ungodly music and the moonshine had gone to your head!\"\n\n\"But I want the boy, Simeon. He--he makes me think of--John.\"\n\nHarsh lines came to the", "work about the house. Did you never do any of that?\"\n\nDavid gave a relieved laugh.\n\n\"Oh, you mean getting the meals and tidying up the house,\" he replied.\n\"Oh, yes, I did that with father, only\"--his face grew wistful--\"I'm\nafraid I didn't do it very well. My bacon was never as nice and crisp\nas father's, and the fire was always spoiling my potatoes.\"\n\n\"Humph! bacon and potatoes, indeed!\" scorned Simeon Holly. \"Well", "and the birds and squirrels and brooks are really in my\nviolin, you know. And--\" But with an angry frown Simeon Holly stalked\naway, motioning Larson to follow him; and with a merry glance and a low\nchuckle Higgins turned his horse about and drove from the yard. A\nmoment later David found himself alone with Mrs. Holly, who was looking\nat him with wistful, though slightly fearful eyes.\n\n\"Did you have all the breakfast you wanted?\" she asked timidly,\nresorting,", "pine over there. See, it's 'way up, up, before there's a place for\nyour foot! But I love pines. Up there on the mountains where I lived,\nthe pines were so tall that it seemed as if God used them sometimes to\nhold up the sky.\"\n\nAnd Simeon Holly heard, and said nothing; and that he did say\nnothing--especially nothing in answer to David's confident assertions\nconcerning celestial and terrestrial architecture--only goes to show\nhow well, indeed, the man was learning to look at the", "round, tanned, and just now a bit anxious, flashed out of\nthe dark.\n\n\"Oh, please, sir, if you would speak lower,\" pleaded the boy. \"He's so\ntired! I'm David, sir, and that's father. We came in here to rest and\nsleep.\"\n\nSimeon Holly's unrelenting gaze left the boy's face and swept that of\nthe man lying back on the hay. The next instant he lowered the lantern\nand leaned nearer, putting forth a cautious hand. At once he" ], [ "his violin for company David started out each day, unless he\nelected to stay indoors with his books. Sometimes it was toward the\nvillage that he turned his steps; sometimes it was toward the hills\nback of the town. Whichever way it was, there was always sure to be\nsomething waiting at the end for him and his violin to discover, if it\nwas nothing more than a big white rose in bloom, or a squirrel sitting\nby the roadside.\n\nVery soon, however, David discovered that there was something to be\nfound in his wander", "music, and was crazy over David's violin; so David took down his other\none--the one that was his father's, you know--and showed him how to\npick out little tunes, just to take up his time so he wouldn't mind so\nmuch that he couldn't see. Now, Jack, wasn't that just like David?\nJack, I can't have anything happen to David!\"\n\n\"No, dear, no; of course not! I'm afraid we can't any of us, for that\nmatter,\" sighed Jack,", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", "understand?\"\n\n\"New--to play?\"\n\n\"Yes--on my violin,\" explained David, a little breathlessly, softly\ntesting his violin. \"There's always something new in this, you know,\"\nhe hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, \"when there's\nanything new outside. Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how\nit's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out.\" And with a\njoyously rapt face he began to play.\n\n\"But, see here,", "\ngoing to tell your father just that.\"\n\n\"No, sir, I don't believe I am,\" accorded David soberly.\n\n\"I have an idea that you're going to find that answer just where your\nfather said you would--in your violin. See if you don't. Things that\naren't beautiful you'll make beautiful--because we find what we are\nlooking for, and you're looking for beautiful things. After all, boy,\nif we march straight ahead, chin up, and sing our own little song with\nall our might and main,", "take up my violin and tell you about it!\"\n\n\"But it's Sunday--the Lord's Day,\" remonstrated the man sternly.\n\nDavid stood motionless, his eyes questioning.\n\n\"Are you quite a heathen, then?\" catechised the man sharply. \"Have they\nnever told you anything about God, boy?\"\n\n\"Oh, 'God'?--of course,\" smiled David, in open relief. \"God wraps up\nthe buds in their little brown blankets, and covers the roots with--\"\n\n\"I am not", "Y WANTED HIM. He had heard it\nwith his own ears, so there was no mistake. What now about all those\nlong days and nights ahead before he might go, violin in hand, to meet\nhis father in that far-away country? How was he to live those days and\nnights if nobody wanted him? How was his violin to speak in a voice\nthat was true and pure and full, and tell of the beautiful world, as\nhis father had said that it must do? David quite cried aloud at the\nthought. Then he thought of something else that his", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you", "his walk to-day,\nthough he found no captive crow to demand his sympathy, he found\nsomething else quite as heartrending, and as incomprehensible.\n\nIt was on the edge of the woods that he came upon two boys, each\ncarrying a rifle, a dead squirrel, and a dead rabbit. The threatened\nrain of the day before had not materialized, and David had his violin.\nHe had been playing softly when he came upon the boys where the path\nentered the woods.\n\n\"Oh!\" At sight of the boys and their", "he came to drawing a timid bow across\nthe strings. In an incredibly short time, then, he was picking out bits\nof melody; and by the end of a fortnight David had brought his father's\nviolin for Joe to practice on.\n\n\"I can't GIVE it to you--not for keeps,\" David had explained, a bit\ntremulously, \"because it was daddy's, you know; and when I see it, it\nseems almost as if I was seeing him. But you may take it. Then you can\nhave it here to play", "you have left--for it is a beautiful world, David;\nnever forget that. And if sometime you are tempted to think it is not a\nbeautiful world, just remember that you yourself can make it beautiful\nif you will.\n\nYou are among new faces, surrounded by things and people that are\nstrange to you. Some of them you will not understand; some of them you\nmay not like. But do not fear, David, and do not plead to go back to\nthe hills. Remember this, my boy,--in your violin lie all the things\nyou long for", "his clothing.\n\nThe gold in his sagging pockets clinked and jingled musically; and once\nhalf a dozen pieces rolled out upon the floor. For a moment the boy\nlooked as if he were going to let them remain where they were. But the\nnext minute, with an impatient gesture, he had picked them up and\nthrust them deep into one of his pockets, silencing their jingling with\nhis handkerchief.\n\nOnce dressed, David picked up his violin and stepped softly into the\nhall. At first no sound reached his ears; then from", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on", "the sound of\nwheels, and of men's excited voices. There came also the twinkle of\nlanterns borne by hurrying hands, and the tramp of shuffling feet. In\nthe window David shivered. There were no wide sweep of mountain, hill,\nand valley, no Silver Lake, no restful hush, no daddy,--no beautiful\nThings that Were. There was only the dreary, hollow mockery of the\nThings they had Become.\n\nLong minutes later, David, with the violin in his arms, lay down upon", "the relatives, the adoring public, the mint of money--they\nare all David's now. But once each year, man grown though he is, he\npicks up his violin and journeys to a little village far up among the\nhills. There in a quiet kitchen he plays to an old man and an old\nwoman; and always to himself he says that he is practicing against the\ntime when, his violin at his chin and the bow drawn across the strings,\nhe shall go to meet his father in the far-away land, and tell him of\nthe beautiful world he has", "Lots of days we'd go to walk; then, when\nwe got home, he'd have me tell him, with my violin, what I'd seen. And\nnow he says I'm to stay here.\"\n\n\"Here!\" It was the quick, stern voice of Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David earnestly; \"to learn about the beautiful world.\nDon't you remember? And he said I was not to want to go back to my\nmountains; that I would not need to, anyway, because the mountains, and\nthe sky,", "\nconstantly, though David could understand scarcely a word of what was\nsaid. Later, the man caught up his violin and played; and never before\nhad David heard his father play like that. The boy's eyes filled, and\nhis heart ached with a pain that choked and numbed--though why, David\ncould not have told. Still later, the man dropped his violin and sank\nexhausted into a chair; and then David, worn and frightened with it\nall, crept to his bunk and fell asleep.\n\nIn the gray dawn of the morning David a", "\n\n\"Does he?\" beamed David. \"But--\" He paused, listening, a quick frown on\nhis face.\n\nOver and over the violin was playing a single phrase--and the\nvariations in the phrase showed the indecision of the fingers and of\nthe mind that controlled them. Again and again with irritating\nsameness, yet with a still more irritating difference, came the\nsuccession of notes. And then David sprang to his feet, placing\nJuliette somewhat unceremoniously on the floor, much to that petted\nyoung", "not haste\nenough. Twice David spoke to him, but he did not answer; and the boy\ncould only trudge along on his weary little feet and sigh for the dear\nhome on the mountain-top which they had left behind them the morning\nbefore.\n\nThey met few fellow travelers, and those they did meet paid scant\nattention to the man and the boy carrying the violins. As it chanced,\nthere was no one in sight when the man, walking in the grass at the\nside of the road, stumbled and fell heavily to the ground.\n\nDavid" ], [ "in the brook.\"\n\nSuddenly the boy's face changed. It grew rapt and luminous as he leaped\nto his feet, crying joyously: \"But he asked me to play, so he went\nsinging--singing just as he said that they did. And I made him walk\nthrough green forests with the ripple of the brooks in his ears!\nListen--like this!\" And once more the boy raised the violin to his\nchin, and once more the music trilled and rippled about the shocked,\namazed ears of Simeon", "man dazedly, as he took the offered\nviolin. The next moment he had demanded vehemently: \"For Heaven's sake,\nwho ARE you, boy?\"\n\nDavid's face wrinkled in grieved surprise.\n\n\"Why, I'm David. Don't you remember? I was here just the other day!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes; but who taught you to play like that?\"\n\n\"Father.\"\n\n\"'Father'!\" The man echoed the word with a gesture of comic despair.\n\"First Latin, then ji", "so soon, and his violin playing\nthat evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very\nsignificant to one who knew David well.\n\nVery faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the\n\"dos,\" and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so\nobvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was\nsomewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at\nfour o'clock.\n\nAlas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on", ", I'm going to play it--I've got to play it!\" cried the boy,\nbounding toward the cabin. In a moment he had returned, violin at his\nchin.\n\nThe man watched and listened; and as he watched and listened, his face\nbecame a battle-ground whereon pride and fear, hope and despair, joy\nand sorrow, fought for the mastery.\n\nIt was no new thing for David to \"play\" the sunset. Always, when he was\nmoved, David turned to his violin. Always in its quivering", "at what he\nfancied would come from a violin played by a boy like the one before\nhim. (Jack could play the violin himself a little--enough to know it\nsome, and love it more.) \"Hm-m; well, and what else do you do?\"\n\n\"Nothing, except to go for walks and read.\"\n\n\"Nothing!--a big boy like you--and on Simeon Holly's farm?\" Voice and\nmanner showed that Jack was not unacquainted with Simeon Holly and his\nmethods and opinions.\n\nDavid laughed gle", ", David did not know. If he found a kitten\nat play in the sunshine, he put it into a riotous abandonment of\ntumbling turns and trills--that a fretful baby heard and stopped its\nwailing, David also did not know. And once, just because the sky was\nblue and the air was sweet, and it was so good to be alive, David\nlifted his bow and put it all into a rapturous paean of ringing\nexultation--that a sick man in a darkened chamber above the street\nlifted", "\n\"Yes, oh, yes, I'll play,\" faltered David, bringing his violin hastily\nto position, and testing the strings with fingers that shook a little.\n\n\"There!\" breathed Joe, settling back in his chair with a contented\nsigh. \"Now, play it again--what you did before.\"\n\nBut David did not play what he did before--at first. There were no airy\ncloud-boats, no far-reaching sky, no birds, or murmuring forest brooks\nin his music this time. There were only the poverty-", "music, and was crazy over David's violin; so David took down his other\none--the one that was his father's, you know--and showed him how to\npick out little tunes, just to take up his time so he wouldn't mind so\nmuch that he couldn't see. Now, Jack, wasn't that just like David?\nJack, I can't have anything happen to David!\"\n\n\"No, dear, no; of course not! I'm afraid we can't any of us, for that\nmatter,\" sighed Jack,", "was. \"Well, Ellen?\"\n\n\"Yes, Simeon, yes!\" choked his wife, a world of mother-love and longing\nin her pleading eyes and voice. \"Yes--you'll let it be--'Yes'!\"\n\n\"Uncle Simeon, Aunt Ellen,\" called David, clattering down the stairs\nfrom his room, \"I've found such a beautiful song in my violin, and I'm\ngoing to play it over and over so as to be sure and remember it for\nfather--for it is a beautiful world, Uncle Sime", "\"You mean, I shall go away and study--practice--learn more of my\nviolin?\"\n\n\"Yes, David.\"\n\n\"And hear beautiful music like the organ in church, only\nmore--bigger--better?\"\n\n\"I suppose so.\".\n\n\"And know people--dear people--who will understand what I say when I\nplay?\"\n\nSimeon Holly's face paled a little; still, he knew David had not meant\nto make it so hard.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Why, it's my 'start", ", whipping his violin from its case, and, after a swift\ntesting of the strings, plunging into a weird, haunting little melody.\n\nIn the doorway, Mrs. Holly, bewildered, yet bewitched, stood\nmotionless, her eyes half-fearfully, half-longingly fixed on David's\nglorified face. She was still in the same position when Simeon Holly\ncame around the corner of the house.\n\n\"Well, Ellen,\" he began, with quiet scorn, after a moment's stern\nwatching of", "\n\n\"Does he?\" beamed David. \"But--\" He paused, listening, a quick frown on\nhis face.\n\nOver and over the violin was playing a single phrase--and the\nvariations in the phrase showed the indecision of the fingers and of\nthe mind that controlled them. Again and again with irritating\nsameness, yet with a still more irritating difference, came the\nsuccession of notes. And then David sprang to his feet, placing\nJuliette somewhat unceremoniously on the floor, much to that petted\nyoung", "story of \"The Princess and the Pauper,\" and\nthat he, David, had been the one, as it happened, to do part of their\ncourting for them.\n\nAnd how David had laughed then, and how he had fairly hugged himself\nfor joy! And when next he had picked up his violin, what a beautiful,\nbeautiful song he had found about it in the vibrant strings!\n\nIt was this same song, as it chanced, that he was playing in his room\nthat Saturday afternoon when the letter from Simeon Holly's long-l", "understand?\"\n\n\"New--to play?\"\n\n\"Yes--on my violin,\" explained David, a little breathlessly, softly\ntesting his violin. \"There's always something new in this, you know,\"\nhe hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, \"when there's\nanything new outside. Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how\nit's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out.\" And with a\njoyously rapt face he began to play.\n\n\"But, see here,", "Lots of days we'd go to walk; then, when\nwe got home, he'd have me tell him, with my violin, what I'd seen. And\nnow he says I'm to stay here.\"\n\n\"Here!\" It was the quick, stern voice of Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David earnestly; \"to learn about the beautiful world.\nDon't you remember? And he said I was not to want to go back to my\nmountains; that I would not need to, anyway, because the mountains, and\nthe sky,", "take up my violin and tell you about it!\"\n\n\"But it's Sunday--the Lord's Day,\" remonstrated the man sternly.\n\nDavid stood motionless, his eyes questioning.\n\n\"Are you quite a heathen, then?\" catechised the man sharply. \"Have they\nnever told you anything about God, boy?\"\n\n\"Oh, 'God'?--of course,\" smiled David, in open relief. \"God wraps up\nthe buds in their little brown blankets, and covers the roots with--\"\n\n\"I am not", "through the outer door and around the\ncorner of the house to the garden. At once then he came upon David,\nsitting Turk-fashion in the middle of the path before the pansy-bed,\nhis violin at his chin, and his whole face aglow.\n\n\"Well, boy, is this the way you fill the woodbox?\" demanded the man\ncrisply.\n\nDavid shook his head.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, this isn't filling the woodbox,\" he laughed, softening\nhis music, but not stopping it. \"Did you", "on, isn't it? Now,\nlisten!\"\n\nAnd Simeon Holly listened--but it was not the violin that he heard. It\nwas the voice of a little curly-headed boy out of the past.\n\nWhen David stopped playing some time later, only the woman sat watching\nhim--the man was over at his desk, pen in hand.\n\nJohn, John's wife, and John's boy came the day before Christmas, and\ngreat was the excitement in the Holly farmhouse. John was found to be\nbig, strong, and bronzed with the", ", tell\nme it's owned by this boy who, it's safe to say, doesn't know how to\nplay sixteen notes on it correctly, to say nothing of appreciating\nthose he does play; and who, by your own account, is nothing but--\" A\nswiftly uplifted hand of warning stayed the words on his lips. He\nturned to see David himself in the doorway.\n\n\"Come in, David,\" said Simeon Holly quietly. \"My son wants to hear you\nplay. I don't think he has heard you.\" And again", "one--you're laughing at me. Oh, I'm going to play\nyou--all of you. You'll make such a pretty song, you're so different\nfrom each other!\" And David leaped lightly to his feet and ran around\nto the side porch for his violin.\n\nFive minutes later, Simeon Holly, coming into the kitchen, heard the\nsound of a violin through the open window. At the same moment his eyes\nfell on the woodbox, empty save for a few small sticks at the bottom.\nWith an angry frown he strode" ], [ "ost\nson John came to the Holly farmhouse.\n\nDownstairs in the kitchen, Simeon Holly stood, with the letter in his\nhand.\n\n\"Ellen, we've got a letter from--John,\" he said. That Simeon Holly\nspoke of it at all showed how very far along HIS unfamiliar way he had\ncome since the last letter from John had arrived.\n\n\"From--John? Oh, Simeon! From John?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nSimeon sat down and tried to hide the shaking of his hand as he ran", "the\npoint of his knife under the flap of the envelope. \"We'll see what--he\nsays.\" And to hear him, one might have thought that letters from John\nwere everyday occurrences.\n\n\nDEAR FATHER: Twice before I have written [ran the letter], and received\nno answer. But I'm going to make one more effort for forgiveness. May I\nnot come to you this Christmas? I have a little boy of my own now, and\nmy heart aches for you. I know how I should feel, should he, in years\n", "an\nindefinable change in his father, and the position of the boy David, in\nthe household--John Holly was still remembering his own repressed youth.\n\n\"Hm-m,\" he murmured, softly picking the strings, then drawing across\nthem a tentative bow. \"I've a fiddle at home that I play sometimes. Do\nyou mind if I--tune her up?\"\n\nA flicker of something that was very near to humor flashed from his\nfather's eyes.\n\n\"Oh, no. We are used to that--now.\" And again", "mean that he has gone--like the water in\nthe brook--to the far country?\" he faltered.\n\nSimeon Holly stared. Then he said more distinctly:--\n\n\"Your father is dead, boy.\"\n\n\"And he won't come back any more?\" David's voice broke now.\n\nThere was no answer. Mrs. Holly caught her breath convulsively and\nlooked away. Even Simeon Holly refused to meet the boy's pleading eyes.\n\nWith a quick cry David sprang to his father's side.\n\n\"But", "laughing now. He was watching his father with startled\neyes. David had not known what anxiety was. He was finding out\nnow--though he but vaguely realized that something was not right. For\nsome time his father had said but little, and that little had been in a\nvoice that was thick and unnatural-sounding. He was walking fast, yet\nDavid noticed that every step seemed an effort, and that every breath\ncame in short gasps. His eyes were very bright, and were fixedly bent\non the road ahead, as if even the haste he was making was", "he could not seem to find out. Not until now had he realized at all\nwhat this going away of his father was to mean to him. And he told\nhimself frantically that he could not have it so. HE COULD NOT HAVE IT\nSO! But even as he said the words, he knew that it was so--irrevocably\nso.\n\n David began then to long for his mountain home. There at least\nhe would have his dear forest all about him, with the birds and the\nsquirrels and the friendly little brooks. There he would have his\n", "very much; I'd rather\nnot, if you please--not now.\" Then he dropped himself down on the steps\nto think. As if he could EAT--with that great choking lump in his\nthroat that refused to be swallowed!\n\nDavid was thoroughly dazed, frightened, and dismayed. He knew now that\nnever again in this world would he see his dear father, or hear him\nspeak. This much had been made very clear to him during the last ten\nminutes. Why this should be so, or what his father would want him to\ndo,", "his own story, even his\nfather did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day\nin and day out, with an occasional trip to the mountain village to get\nfood and clothing when they had absolutely nothing to eat and wear. Of\ncourse nobody wants him!\"\n\nDavid, at the kitchen door, caught his breath chokingly. Then he sped\nacross the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to the\nhayloft in the barn--the place where his father seemed always nearest.\n\nDavid was frightened and heartsick. NOBOD", "\nof a father's thought for the young eyes that would read it. It was\nwritten on two of the notebook's leaves, and at the end came the single\nword \"Daddy.\"\n\n\nDavid, my boy [read Higgins aloud], in the far country I am waiting for\nyou. Do not grieve, for that will grieve me. I shall not return, but\nsome day you will come to me, your violin at your chin, and the bow\ndrawn across the strings to greet me. See that it tells me of the\nbeautiful world", "They, too,\nnever raised their eyes to the blue sky outside, nor even to the\ncrimson roses that peeped in at the window. They seemed rather to be\nlooking always for dirt, yet not pleased when they found it--especially\nif it had been tracked in on the heel of a small boy's shoe!\n\nMore extraordinary than all this to David, however, was the fact that\nthese people regarded HIM, not themselves, as being strange. As if it\nwere not the most natural thing in the world to live with one's father\nin one'", "Jack's\nvisit was not the unalloyed happiness it usually was. Mr. Jack himself\nwas almost cross at first, and then he was silent and restless, moving\njerkily about the room in a way that disturbed David very much.\n\nMr. Jack had brought with him a book; but even that only made matters\nworse, for when he saw the beautifully bound volumes that Miss Holbrook\nhad just left, he frowned, and told David that he guessed he did not\nneed his gift at all, with all those other fine books. And David could\nnot seem to", "ember all I've\ntold you.\"\n\nOnce again David asked his question, but this time the man only turned\nback to the photograph, muttering something the boy could not\nunderstand.\n\nAfter that David did not question any more. He was too amazed, too\ndistressed. He had never before seen his father like this. With nervous\nhaste the man was setting the little room to rights, crowding things\ninto the bag, and packing other things away in an old trunk. His cheeks\nwere very red, and his eyes very bright. He talked, too, almost", "a disdainful shrug.\n\nDavid, on the lowest step, was very evidently not hearing a word of\nwhat was being said. With his sensitive face illumined, he was again\nporing over his father's letter.\n\nSomething in the sudden quiet cut through his absorption as the noisy\nhum of voices had not been able to do, and he raised his head. His eyes\nwere starlike.\n\n\"I'm so glad father told me what to do,\" he breathed. \"It'll be easier\nnow.\"\n\nReceiving no answer from", "started.\n\n\"Er--nothing; nothing that you would understand, David. Go on--with\nwhat you were saying.\"\n\n\"There isn't any more. It's all done. It's only that I'm wondering how\nI'm going to learn here that it's a beautiful world, so that I\ncan--tell father.\"\n\nMr. Jack roused himself. He had the air of a man who determinedly\nthrows to one side a heavy burden.\n\n\"Well, David,\" he smiled, \"as I said before, you are still", "he's here--right here,\" he challenged shrilly. \"Daddy, daddy,\nspeak to me! It's David!\" Reaching out his hand, he gently touched his\nfather's face. He drew back then, at once, his eyes distended with\nterror. \"He isn't! He is--gone,\" he chattered frenziedly. \"This isn't\nthe father-part that KNOWS. It's the other--that they leave. He's left\nit behind him--like the squirrel, and the water", "her face, drawn and\ntear-stained, and asked a trembling question.\n\n\"Simeon, have you thought? We might go--to John--for--help.\"\n\nDavid was frightened then, so angry was the look that came into Simeon\nHolly's face.\n\n\"Ellen, we'll have no more of this,\" said the man harshly. \"Understand,\nI'd rather lose the whole thing and--and starve, than go to--John.\"\n\nDavid fled then. Up the back stairs he crept to his", "refusal was even more\nstrangely impatient than his wife's had been.\n\n\"And why, pray, should I go for a useless walk now--or any time, for\nthat matter?\" he demanded sharply.\n\nDavid had shrunk back unconsciously, though he had still smiled.\n\n\"Oh, but it wouldn't be a useless walk, sir. Father said nothing was\nuseless that helped to keep us in tune, you know.\"\n\n\"In tune!\"\n\n\"I mean, you looked as father used to look sometimes, when he felt out\nof tune", "\"Father's.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" He hesitated; then, a little severely, he observed: \"This is a\nfine instrument, boy,--a very fine instrument.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" nodded David, with a cheerful smile. \"Father said it was. I like\nit, too. This is an Amati, but the other is a Stradivarius. I don't\nknow which I do like best, sometimes, only this is mine.\"\n\nWith a half-smothered ejaculation John Holly fell back limply.\n\n\"Then you--", "on appeared on the kitchen\nporch.\n\n\"Very little. Really nothing of importance,\" answered Simeon Holly.\n\n\"Where is he now?\"\n\n\"Why, he was here on the steps a few minutes ago.\" Simeon Holly looked\nabout him a bit impatiently.\n\n\"Well, I want to see him. I've got a letter for him.\"\n\n\"A letter!\" exclaimed Simeon Holly and Larson in amazed unison.\n\n\"Yes. Found it in his father's pocket,\" nodded the coroner, with all\nthe", "attled\naround the turn of the road above.\n\nThe driver of the horse glanced disapprovingly at the man and the boy\nby the roadside; but he did not stop. After he had passed, the boy\nturned again to his father. The man was fumbling once more in his\npockets. This time from his coat he produced a pencil and a small\nnotebook from which he tore a page, and began to write, laboriously,\npainfully.\n\nDavid sighed and looked about him. He was tired and hungry, and he did\nnot understand things" ], [ "to\nhimself. If such were the case, he was glad now that he did not know\nthis name, so that he might not have to tell all these inquisitive\npeople who asked so many questions about it. He was glad, too, that\nthose men had not been able to read his father's name at the end of his\nother note that first morning--if his father really did not wish his\nname to be known.\n\n\"But, David, think. Where you lived, wasn't there ever anybody who\ncalled him by name?\"\n\nDavid shook his head.", "David ate his supper; and Mrs. Holly, in the face\nof this very ordinary sight of hunger being appeased at her table,\nbreathed more freely, and ventured to think that perhaps this strange\nlittle boy was not so very strange, after all.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she found courage to ask then.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"David what?\"\n\n\"Just David.\"\n\n\"But your father's name?\" Mrs. Holly had almost asked, but stopped in\ntime. She did not want to speak of him. \"Where do you live?\"", "it to mind I think I have heard it myself in days\ngone by--though such names mean little to me. But doubtless somebody\nwould have known. However, that is all past and gone now.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, and no harm done. He fell into good hands, luckily. You'll\nsoon see the last of him now, of course.\"\n\n\"Last of him? Oh, no, I shall keep David,\" said Simeon Holly, with\ndecision.\n\n\"Keep him! Why, father, you forget who he is! There are friends", "\nname to that note, and everybody would know who he was, and David would\nat once be sent to his own people. (There's an aunt and some cousins, I\nbelieve.) You see he didn't reckon on nobody's being able to READ his\nname! Besides, being so ill, he probably wasn't quite sane, anyway.\"\n\n\"I see, I see,\" nodded Simeon Holly, frowning a little. \"And of course\nif we had made it out, some of us here would have known it, probably.\nNow that you call", "in surprise.\n\n\"Yes; she said that was her name,\" he answered, wondering at the\nindefinable change that had come to the man's face.\n\nThere was a moment's pause, then the man rose to his feet.\n\n\"How's your head? Does it ache?\" he asked briskly.\n\n\"Not much--some. I--I think I'll be going,\" replied David, a little\nawkwardly, reaching for his violin, and unconsciously showing by his\nmanner the sudden chill in the atmosphere.\n\nThe", "\nfumed Simeon Holly, in manifest irritation.\n\n\"He did, he thought,\" laughed the other. \"He signed his name, and he\nsupposed that was so well known that just to mention it would be\nenough. That's why he kept it so secret while he was living on the\nmountain, you see, and that's why even David himself didn't know it. Of\ncourse, if anybody found out who he was, that ended his scheme, and he\nknew it. So he supposed all he had to do at the last was to sign his", ". He wrote it to me.\"\n\n\"Wrote it to you!\" cried the man, sitting suddenly erect.\n\n\"Yes. It was in his pocket, you see. They--found it.\" David's voice was\nvery low, and not quite steady.\n\n\"David, may I see--that letter?\"\n\nThe boy hesitated; then slowly he drew it from his pocket.\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Jack. I'll let YOU see it.\"\n\nReverently, tenderly, but very eagerly the man took the note and read\nit through, hoping somewhere", ".\n\nWho the man was the town authorities certainly did not know, neither\ncould they apparently find out. His name, as written by himself, was\nunreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could tell little more--of\nconsequence. A report, to be sure, did come from the village, far up\nthe mountain, that such a man and boy had lived in a hut that was\nalmost inaccessible; but even this did not help solve the mystery.\n\nDavid was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly mentally\ndeclared that he should lose", "! Who plays?\" he asked.\n\n\"David.\"\n\n\"Oh, the boy. You say you--took him in? By the way, what an odd little\nshaver he is! Never did I see a BOY like HIM.\" Simeon Holly's head came\nup almost aggressively.\n\n\"David is a good boy--a very good boy, indeed, John. We think a great\ndeal of him.\"\n\nJohn Holly laughed lightly, yet his brow carried a puzzled frown. Two\nthings John Holly had not been able thus far to understand:", "to find a name that would help solve the\nmystery. With a sigh he handed it back. His eyes were wet.\n\n\"Thank you, David. That is a beautiful letter,\" he said softly. \"And I\nbelieve you'll do it some day, too. You'll go to him with your violin\nat your chin and the bow drawn across the strings to tell him of the\nbeautiful world you have found.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said David simply. Then, with a suddenly radiant smile:\n\"And NOW I can't help finding it", "\n\"But, David,\"--the man was speaking very gently now. He had motioned\nthe boy to a low seat by his side. The little girl was standing near,\nher eyes alight with wondering interest. \"He must have had a name, you\nknow, just the same. Didn't you ever hear any one call him anything?\nThink, now.\"\n\n\"No.\" David said the single word, and turned his eyes away. It had\noccurred to him, since he had come to live in the valley, that perhaps\nhis father did not want to have his name", "at the last. As David recollected him, indeed, he had last been\nseen standing beside one of the veranda posts, with gloomy eyes fixed\non the towers of Sunnycrest that showed red-gold above the tree-tops in\nthe last rays of the setting sun.\n\nIt was a bad half-hour that David spent at the Holly farmhouse in\nexplanation of his torn blouse and bruised face. Farmer Holly did not\napprove of fights, and he said so, very sternly indeed. Even Mrs.\nHolly, who was usually", "her face, drawn and\ntear-stained, and asked a trembling question.\n\n\"Simeon, have you thought? We might go--to John--for--help.\"\n\nDavid was frightened then, so angry was the look that came into Simeon\nHolly's face.\n\n\"Ellen, we'll have no more of this,\" said the man harshly. \"Understand,\nI'd rather lose the whole thing and--and starve, than go to--John.\"\n\nDavid fled then. Up the back stairs he crept to his", "tell. You\nsee--the gentlemen visit me sometimes.\"\n\n\"Oh, do they?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I'm so glad--that is, I mean,\" amended David, in answer to Mr. Jack's\nuplifted eyebrows, \"I'm glad that you understand what I'm talking\nabout. You see, I tried Perry Larson last night on it, to get him to\ntell me what to do. But he only stared and laughed. He didn't know the\nnames of 'em, anyhow, as you do, and", "There was left finally upon the ground only David alone.\nBut when David did at last appear, the little girl burst into tears\nanew.\n\n\"Oh, Jack, he's killed--I know he's killed,\" she wailed. \"And he was so\nnice and--and pretty. And now--look at him! Ain't he a sight?\"\n\nDavid was not killed, but he was--a sight. His blouse was torn, his tie\nwas gone, and his face and hands were covered with dirt and blood.\nAbove one eye was an ugly-looking", "though with confidence. \"That's pretty; but what does it\nmean--about 'counting'?\"\n\nMiss Holbrook rose to her feet.\n\n\"For Heaven's sake, boy, who, and what are you?\" she demanded. \"Can YOU\nread Latin?\"\n\n\"Why, of course! Can't you?\" With a disdainful gesture Miss Holbrook\nswept this aside.\n\n\"Boy, who are you?\" she demanded again imperatively.\n\n\"I'm David. I told you.\"\n\n\"But David who?", "Where do you live?\"\n\nThe boy's face clouded.\n\n\"I'm David--just David. I live at Farmer Holly's now; but I did live on\nthe mountain with--father, you know.\"\n\nA great light of understanding broke over Miss Holbrook's face. She\ndropped back into her seat.\n\n\"Oh, I remember,\" she murmured. \"You're the little--er--boy whom he\ntook. I have heard the story. So THAT is who you are,\" she added, the\nold look of aversion coming", "ok's company at the same time.\n\nDavid discovered this last curious circumstance concerning Mr. Jack and\nMiss Holbrook very early in his convalescence. It was on the second\nafternoon that Mr. Jack had been admitted to the sick-room. David had\nbeen hearing all the latest news of Jill and Joe, when suddenly he\nnoticed an odd change come to his visitor's face.\n\nThe windows of the Holly \"parlor bedroom\" commanded a fine view of the\nroad, and it was toward one of these windows that Mr. Jack's eyes were", "known. He remembered that once\nthe milk-and-eggs boy had asked what to call him; and his father had\nlaughed and answered: \"I don't see but you'll have to call me 'The Old\nMan of the Mountain,' as they do down in the village.\" That was the\nonly time David could recollect hearing his father say anything about\nhis name. At the time David had not thought much about it. But since\nthen, down here where they appeared to think a name was so important,\nhe had wondered if possibly his father had not preferred to keep his", "the man thrust into\nhis fingers a little later; though--had David but known it--both the\nlaugh and the five-cent piece gift were--for the uncomprehending man\nwho gave them--white milestones along an unfamiliar way.\n\nIt was soon after this that there came to David the great surprise--his\nbeloved Lady of the Roses and his no less beloved Mr. Jack were to be\nmarried at the beginning of the New Year. So very surprised, indeed,\nwas David at this, that even his violin was mute, and had nothing," ] ]

[ "Who does David remind the Holly's of? ", "Why did David's father chose to disappear from the world?", "Why do the letters from the dead father not reveal his identity at first?", "What was one way David's music helps people in the village? ", "Who was David's father?", "What is special about David's violins? ", "Why does Simeon reunite with his son?", "What does David's father make him hide?", "Which instrument does David play?", "What does David's father give to him, shortly before he passed away?", "What does David do to help soothe his \"sleeping father\"?", "Which two people discover the dead body?", "Who does David remind the Holly's of?", "What does David use to express his feelings?", "Who do the Holly's reconnect with?", "Who finally realizes who David and his father are?", "What was David's fathers profession?", "What do the Holly's discover about David's violins?", "Why does David move down into the Valley?", "What does David's father give to him before he passes away?", "What does David's father tell him to do with the gold coins?", "Why does David play his violin?", "Who finds David after his father passes away?", "Why does Simeon Holly and his wife allow David to stay with them?", "Why does David bring a violin everywhere he goes?", "How does David's playing the violin help Simeon?", "What does John discover while visiting his father?", "What happens when John discovers David's last name?" ]

[ [ "Their son John. ", "their son" ], [ "His wife died. ", "His wife died." ], [ "His signature is illegible. ", "The signature is illegible." ], [ "His music helps reunite two childhood sweathearts in marriage. ", "Reunited lost love." ], [ "A world famous violinist ", "a famous violinist" ], [ "They are very valuable. ", "they are expensive" ], [ "Davi'd music and innocence helps heal his heart", "David's presence in their lives, and his music, healed Simeon's heart" ], [ "Many gold coins. ", "Gold coins." ], [ "The violin", "violin" ], [ "A large number of gold coins", "a bunch of gold coins" ], [ "Plays the violin", "plays music for him" ], [ "Simeon Holly and his wife", "Simeon Holly and his wife" ], [ "Their son John", "Their son John." ], [ "His violin", "music" ], [ "Their son", "their son John" ], [ "John", "the Holly's son John" ], [ "A Violinist", "violinist" ], [ "They are quite valuable", "Names of makers of violins." ], [ "His father becomes ill.", "because his father is deathly ill" ], [ "A bunch of gold coins.", "a large amount of gold coins" ], [ "Hide them until they are needed.", "to hide them until they are needed" ], [ "To soothe his father as he passes away.", "to express his feelings" ], [ "Simeon Holly and his wife.", "Simeon Holly and his wife" ], [ "He reminds them of their son, John.", "Because David reminds them of their son John." ], [ "To use music to express his feelings.", "He realizes it soothes others. Gift from father." ], [ "By healing his heart and reconnecting him to his son.", "it heals and softens his heart so that he reconciles with his estranged son" ], [ "David's last name.", "David's violins are valuable." ], [ "David is sent to live with his relatives.", "Realizes David's father is a famous violinist" ] ]

[ [ ". The door of the shop was the only means of entrance to the house\nin which Mr Verloc carried on his business of a seller of shady wares,\nexercised his vocation of a protector of society, and cultivated his\ndomestic virtues. These last were pronounced. He was thoroughly\ndomesticated. Neither his spiritual, nor his mental, nor his physical\nneeds were of the kind to take him much abroad. He found at home the\nease of his body and the peace of his conscience, together with Mrs\nVerloc’s", "its own. He raised his arm, and turned off the flaring\ngas-jet above his head.\n\nA bright band of light fell through the parlour door into the part of the\nshop behind the counter. It enabled Mr Verloc to ascertain at a glance\nthe number of silver coins in the till. These were but few; and for the\nfirst time since he opened his shop he took a commercial survey of its\nvalue. This survey was unfavourable. He had gone into trade for no\ncommercial reasons. He had been guided in the selection of this", "were an integral part of his outdoor activities,\nwhich his wife had never looked deeply into. Mrs Verloc felt that the\nposition was delicate, but she faced it with the same impenetrable\ncalmness which impressed and even astonished the customers of the shop\nand made the other visitors keep their distance a little wonderingly.\nNo! She feared that there were things not good for Stevie to hear of,\nshe told her husband. It only excited the poor boy, because he could not\nhelp them being so. Nobody could.\n\nIt was in the shop. ", "XIX CENTURY\n IS AFFECTIONATELY OFFERED\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nMr Verloc, going out in the morning, left his shop nominally in charge of\nhis brother-in-law. It could be done, because there was very little\nbusiness at any time, and practically none at all before the evening. Mr\nVerloc cared but little about his ostensible business. And, moreover,\nhis wife was in charge of his brother-in-law.\n\nThe shop was small, and so was the", "the\npainted deal counter, Mr Verloc would issue hastily from the parlour at\nthe back. His eyes were naturally heavy; he had an air of having\nwallowed, fully dressed, all day on an unmade bed. Another man would\nhave felt such an appearance a distinct disadvantage. In a commercial\ntransaction of the retail order much depends on the seller’s engaging and\namiable aspect. But Mr Verloc knew his business, and remained\nundisturbed by any sort of æsthetic doubt about his appearance. With a\nfirm,", "his purchases\npersonally. A little select connection of amateurs was forming around\nthe shop in Brett Street, a secret connection eminently proper for any\nbusiness undertaken by Mr Verloc, who, by a mystic accord of temperament\nand necessity, had been set apart to be a secret agent all his life.\n\nHe waited for a while, then added: “I’ll be away a week or perhaps a\nfortnight. Get Mrs Neale to come for the day.”\n\nMrs Neale was the charwoman of Brett Street", "little too far,\nisn’t it? He lives over his shop?”\n\n“Who—Verloc? Oh yes. He lives over his shop. The wife’s mother, I\nfancy, lives with them.”\n\n“Is the house watched?”\n\n“Oh dear, no. It wouldn’t do. Certain people who come there are\nwatched. My opinion is that he knows nothing of this affair.”\n\nâ", "he did not go incontinently to impart to her that\ninformation. First of all, it was clear to him that this evening was no\ntime for business. He got up to close the street door and put the gas\nout in the shop.\n\nHaving thus assured a solitude around his hearthstone Mr Verloc walked\ninto the parlour, and glanced down into the kitchen. Mrs Verloc was\nsitting in the place where poor Stevie usually established himself of an\nevening with paper and pencil for the pastime of drawing these\ncoruscations of in", "Verloc’s genius. It had also the advantage of being within the range of\nhis powers and of adjusting itself easily to the practice of his life,\nwhich had consisted precisely in betraying the secret and unlawful\nproceedings of his fellow-men. Anarchists or diplomats were all one to\nhim. Mr Verloc was temperamentally no respecter of persons. His scorn\nwas equally distributed over the whole field of his operations. But as a\nmember of a revolutionary proletariat—which he undoubtedly was—", "in Greenwich Park, because Mr Verloc went\nout very early that morning and did not come back till nearly dusk. She\ndid not mind being alone. She had no desire to go out. The weather was\ntoo bad, and the shop was cosier than the streets. Sitting behind the\ncounter with some sewing, she did not raise her eyes from her work when\nMr Verloc entered in the aggressive clatter of the bell. She had\nrecognised his step on the pavement outside.\n\nShe did not raise her eyes, but as Mr Verloc,", "ching his head forward, saw a faint gleam in the darkness\nof the shop.\n\n“There is,” he said.\n\n“I forgot it.” Mrs Verloc’s voice came from behind her veil faintly. And\nas he stood waiting for her to enter first, she said louder: “Go in and\nput it out—or I’ll go mad.”\n\nHe made no immediate objection to this proposal, so strangely motived.\n“Whereâ", ", and Mrs Verloc moving briskly, carried the\ntray into the kitchen. She washed the cups and some other things before\nshe stopped in her work to listen. No sound reached her. The customer\nwas a long time in the shop. It was a customer, because if he had not\nbeen Mr Verloc would have taken him inside. Undoing the strings of her\napron with a jerk, she threw it on a chair, and walked back to the\nparlour slowly.\n\nAt that precise moment Mr Verloc entered from the shop.\n\n", "Verloc simply turned her face from right to left in sign of negation.\nA languid, baffling silence reigned in the shop. Chief Inspector Heat\nfelt provoked beyond endurance.\n\n“There was another small matter,” he began in a detached tone, “which I\nwanted to speak to your husband about. There came into our hands\na—a—what we believe is—a stolen overcoat.”\n\nMrs Verloc, with her mind specially aware of", "“I find I’ll have to go out this evening,” said Mr Verloc. He did not\nattempt to pick up his outer garment.\n\nWithout a word Winnie made for the shop, and shutting the door after her,\nwalked in behind the counter. She did not look overtly at the customer\ntill she had established herself comfortably on the chair. But by that\ntime she had noted that he was tall and thin, and wore his moustaches\ntwisted up. In fact, he gave the sharp", "van arrested in front of the dimly lit\nwindow-panes of a carter’s eating-house. The man was refreshing himself\ninside, and the horses, their big heads lowered to the ground, fed out of\nnose-bags steadily. Farther on, on the opposite side of the street,\nanother suspect patch of dim light issued from Mr Verloc’s shop front,\nhung with papers, heaving with vague piles of cardboard boxes and the\nshapes of books. The Assistant Commissioner stood observing it across\n", "acquaintance, and Mrs Verloc remembered having seen him\nbefore. Not a customer. She softened her “customer stare” to mere\nindifference, and faced him across the counter.\n\nHe approached, on his side, confidentially, but not too markedly so.\n\n“Husband at home, Mrs Verloc?” he asked in an easy, full tone.\n\n“No. He’s gone out.”\n\n“I am sorry for that. I’ve", "mere suspicion of which would have been infinitely shocking\nto Mr Verloc’s idea of love, remained irresolute, as if scrupulously\naware of something wanting on her part for the formal closing of the\ntransaction.\n\nOn the sofa Mr Verloc wriggled his shoulders into perfect comfort, and\nfrom the fulness of his heart emitted a wish which was certainly as pious\nas anything likely to come from such a source.\n\n“I wish to goodness,” he growled huskily, “I had never seen Greenwich\n", "Verloc watched at her back as if he could\nread there the effect of his words.\n\n“There isn’t a murdering plot for the last eleven years that I hadn’t my\nfinger in at the risk of my life. There’s scores of these revolutionists\nI’ve sent off, with their bombs in their blamed pockets, to get\nthemselves caught on the frontier. The old Baron knew what I was worth\nto his country. And here suddenly a swine comes along—an ignorant", "\n“I think,” he said, looking at her steadily, “that you could give me a\npretty good notion of what’s going on if you liked.”\n\nForcing her fine, inert eyes to return his gaze, Mrs Verloc murmured:\n\n“Going on! What _is_ going on?”\n\n“Why, the affair I came to talk about a little with your husband.”\n\nThat day Mrs Verloc had glanced at a morning paper as usual. ", "offended. You know you do get yourself\nvery untidy when you get a chance, Stevie.”\n\nMr Verloc was already gone some way down the street.\n\nThus in consequence of her mother’s heroic proceedings, and of her\nbrother’s absence on this villegiature, Mrs Verloc found herself oftener\nthan usual all alone not only in the shop, but in the house. For Mr\nVerloc had to take his walks. She was alone longer than usual on the day\nof the attempted bomb outrage" ], [ "dazed the two women. What had happened? They sat\nmotionless and scared in the profound stillness, till the door came open,\nand a rough, strained whispering was heard:\n\n“Here you are!”\n\nA range of gabled little houses, each with one dim yellow window, on the\nground floor, surrounded the dark open space of a grass plot planted with\nshrubs and railed off from the patchwork of lights and shadows in the\nwide road, resounding with the dull rumble of traffic. Before the door\n", "seem of much account either. With their\nhands plunged deep in the side pockets of their coats, they dodged in\nsideways, one shoulder first, as if afraid to start the bell going.\n\nThe bell, hung on the door by means of a curved ribbon of steel, was\ndifficult to circumvent. It was hopelessly cracked; but of an evening,\nat the slightest provocation, it clattered behind the customer with\nimpudent virulence.\n\nIt clattered; and at that signal, through the dusty glass door behind", "shortly, staring straight before her.\n\nAnd the cab jolted in front of a steamy, greasy shop in a blaze of gas\nand in the smell of fried fish.\n\nThe old woman raised a wail again.\n\n“And, my dear, I must see that poor boy every Sunday. He won’t mind\nspending the day with his old mother—”\n\nWinnie screamed out stolidly:\n\n“Mind! I should think not. That poor boy will miss you something cruel", ".\n\nBrett Street was not very far away. It branched off, narrow, from the\nside of an open triangular space surrounded by dark and mysterious\nhouses, temples of petty commerce emptied of traders for the night. Only\na fruiterer’s stall at the corner made a violent blaze of light and\ncolour. Beyond all was black, and the few people passing in that\ndirection vanished at one stride beyond the glowing heaps of oranges and\nlemons. No footsteps echoed. They would never be heard", "lonely gas-jet, then up a flight\nof winding stairs, and through a glazed and cheerful corridor on the\nfirst floor. The footman threw open a door, and stood aside. The feet\nof Mr Verloc felt a thick carpet. The room was large, with three\nwindows; and a young man with a shaven, big face, sitting in a roomy\narm-chair before a vast mahogany writing-table, said in French to the\nChancelier d’Ambassade, who was going out with the papers in his hand:", "placidity of an experienced wife, expressed a\nconfident opinion as to the cause, and suggested the usual remedies; but\nher husband, rooted in the middle of the room, shook his lowered head\nsadly.\n\n“You’ll catch cold standing there,” she observed.\n\nMr Verloc made an effort, finished undressing, and got into bed. Down\nbelow in the quiet, narrow street measured footsteps approached the\nhouse, then died away unhurried and firm, as if the passer-by had started\nto", "in which neither wall, nor\ntree, nor beast, nor man cast a shadow. Mr Verloc was going westward\nthrough a town without shadows in an atmosphere of powdered old gold.\nThere were red, coppery gleams on the roofs of houses, on the corners of\nwalls, on the panels of carriages, on the very coats of the horses, and\non the broad back of Mr Verloc’s overcoat, where they produced a dull\neffect of rustiness. But Mr Verloc was not in the least conscious of\nhaving got rusty", "By a\ngreat effort he suppressed the rattling of his teeth.\n\n“I’ll have you laid up on my hands,” she said, with genuine uneasiness.\n\n“I don’t think so,” remarked Mr Verloc, snuffling huskily.\n\nHe had certainly contrived somehow to catch an abominable cold between\nseven in the morning and five in the afternoon. Mrs Verloc looked at his\nbowed back.\n\n“Where have you been to-day?", "front of the big turning wheel, and spoke\nup through the little trap door almost before the man gazing supinely\nahead from his perch was aware of having been boarded by a fare.\n\nIt was not a long drive. It ended by signal abruptly, nowhere in\nparticular, between two lamp-posts before a large drapery establishment—a\nlong range of shops already lapped up in sheets of corrugated iron for\nthe night. Tendering a coin through the trap door the fare slipped out\nand away, leaving an effect of uncanny, eccentric g", "” she asked.\n\n“Nowhere,” answered Mr Verloc in a low, choked nasal tone. His attitude\nsuggested aggrieved sulks or a severe headache. The unsufficiency and\nuncandidness of his answer became painfully apparent in the dead silence\nof the room. He snuffled apologetically, and added: “I’ve been to the\nbank.”\n\nMrs Verloc became attentive.\n\n“You have!” she said", "€œDid you walk down here?”\n\n“No; omnibus,” the little man answered readily enough. He lived far away\nin Islington, in a small house down a shabby street, littered with straw\nand dirty paper, where out of school hours a troop of assorted children\nran and squabbled with a shrill, joyless, rowdy clamour. His single back\nroom, remarkable for having an extremely large cupboard, he rented\nfurnished from two elderly spinsters, dressmakers in", "€™s stare\nhad grown hard, intent, inventive.\n\n“I can’t bring him to you myself every week,” she cried. “But don’t you\nworry, mother. I’ll see to it that he don’t get lost for long.”\n\nThey felt a peculiar bump; a vision of brick pillars lingered before the\nrattling windows of the cab; a sudden cessation of atrocious jolting and\nuproarious jingling", "ing himself of his clothing with the unnoticing\ninward concentration of a man undressing in the solitude of a vast and\nhopeless desert. For thus inhospitably did this fair earth, our common\ninheritance, present itself to the mental vision of Mr Verloc. All was\nso still without and within that the lonely ticking of the clock on the\nlanding stole into the room as if for the sake of company.\n\nMr Verloc, getting into bed on his own side, remained prone and mute\nbehind Mrs Verloc’s back.", "scrubbed hard, snuffling all the time, and talking\nvolubly. And she was sincere. And on each side of her thin red nose her\nbleared, misty eyes swam in tears, because she felt really the want of\nsome sort of stimulant in the morning.\n\nIn the parlour Mrs Verloc observed, with knowledge:\n\n“There’s Mrs Neale at it again with her harrowing tales about her little\nchildren. They can’t be all so little as she makes them out. Some of", "flagstones. On one side the low brick houses had\nin their dusty windows the sightless, moribund look of incurable\ndecay—empty shells awaiting demolition. From the other side life had not\ndeparted wholly as yet. Facing the only gas-lamp yawned the cavern of a\nsecond-hand furniture dealer, where, deep in the gloom of a sort of\nnarrow avenue winding through a bizarre forest of wardrobes, with an\nundergrowth tangle of table legs, a tall", "ation\naway from the light into the obscurity of the open space bordered dimly\nby the pointed roofs and the feebly shining windows of the little\nalms-houses. The plaint of the gravel travelled slowly all round the\ndrive. Between the lamps of the charitable gateway the slow cortege\nreappeared, lighted up for a moment, the short, thick man limping busily,\nwith the horse’s head held aloft in his fist, the lank animal walking in\nstiff and forlorn dignity, the", "jingling of glass, as if\nabout to collapse behind the cab; and the infirm horse, with the harness\nhung over his sharp backbone flapping very loose about his thighs,\nappeared to be dancing mincingly on his toes with infinite patience.\nLater on, in the wider space of Whitehall, all visual evidences of motion\nbecame imperceptible. The rattle and jingle of glass went on\nindefinitely in front of the long Treasury building—and time itself\nseemed to stand still.\n\nAt last Winnie", " There were shouts on the pavement, people ran\nforward, the driver pulled up, whispering curses of indignation and\nastonishment. Winnie lowered the window, and put her head out, white as\na ghost. In the depths of the cab, her mother was exclaiming, in tones\nof anguish: “Is that boy hurt? Is that boy hurt?”\n\nStevie was not hurt, he had not even fallen, but excitement as usual had\nrobbed him of the power of connected speech", "he did not go incontinently to impart to her that\ninformation. First of all, it was clear to him that this evening was no\ntime for business. He got up to close the street door and put the gas\nout in the shop.\n\nHaving thus assured a solitude around his hearthstone Mr Verloc walked\ninto the parlour, and glanced down into the kitchen. Mrs Verloc was\nsitting in the place where poor Stevie usually established himself of an\nevening with paper and pencil for the pastime of drawing these\ncoruscations of in", "“Here!” said Mr Verloc, giving a slight kick to the gladstone bag on the\nfloor; and Stevie flung himself upon it, seized it, bore it off with\ntriumphant devotion. He was so prompt that Mr Verloc was distinctly\nsurprised.\n\nAlready at the clatter of the shop bell Mrs Neale, blackleading the\nparlour grate, had looked through the door, and rising from her knees had\ngone, aproned, and grimy with everlasting toil, to tell Mrs Verloc" ], [ "his purchases\npersonally. A little select connection of amateurs was forming around\nthe shop in Brett Street, a secret connection eminently proper for any\nbusiness undertaken by Mr Verloc, who, by a mystic accord of temperament\nand necessity, had been set apart to be a secret agent all his life.\n\nHe waited for a while, then added: “I’ll be away a week or perhaps a\nfortnight. Get Mrs Neale to come for the day.”\n\nMrs Neale was the charwoman of Brett Street", "“He upset you. He’s a brute,\nblurting it out like this to a woman. I made myself ill thinking how to\nbreak it to you. I sat for hours in the little parlour of Cheshire\nCheese thinking over the best way. You understand I never meant any harm\nto come to that boy.”\n\nMr Verloc, the Secret Agent, was speaking the truth. It was his marital\naffection that had received the greatest shock from the premature\nexplosion. He added:\n\n", "the time to think things out a little,” he added without\nemphasis. “Society has given me plenty of time for meditation.”\n\nOn the other side of the fireplace, in the horse-hair arm-chair where Mrs\nVerloc’s mother was generally privileged to sit, Karl Yundt giggled\ngrimly, with a faint black grimace of a toothless mouth. The terrorist,\nas he called himself, was old and bald, with a narrow, snow-white wisp of\na goate", "pace out all eternity, from gas-lamp to gas-lamp in a night without\nend; and the drowsy ticking of the old clock on the landing became\ndistinctly audible in the bedroom.\n\nMrs Verloc, on her back, and staring at the ceiling, made a remark.\n\n“Takings very small to-day.”\n\nMr Verloc, in the same position, cleared his throat as if for an\nimportant statement, but merely inquired:\n\n“Did you turn off the gas downstairs?â", " he asked.\n\n“Ever since the time of the late Baron Stott-Wartenheim,” Mr Verloc\nanswered in subdued tones, and protruding his lips sadly, in sign of\nsorrow for the deceased diplomat. The First Secretary observed this play\nof physiognomy steadily.\n\n“Ah! ever since. Well! What have you got to say for yourself?” he asked\nsharply.\n\nMr Verloc answered with some surprise that he was not aware of having", "\n\nMrs Verloc shuddered at the sound of her husband’s voice. She did not\nuncover her face. The trusted secret agent of the late Baron\nStott-Wartenheim looked at her for a time with a heavy, persistent,\nundiscerning glance. The torn evening paper was lying at her feet. It\ncould not have told her much. Mr Verloc felt the need of talking to his\nwife.\n\n“It’s that damned Heat—eh?” he said. ", "\ncharged with the duty of keeping track of London’s strayed houses. Why\npowers are not asked of Parliament (a short act would do) for compelling\nthose edifices to return where they belong is one of the mysteries of\nmunicipal administration. Mr Verloc did not trouble his head about it,\nhis mission in life being the protection of the social mechanism, not its\nperfectionment or even its criticism.\n\nIt was so early that the porter of the Embassy issued hurriedly out of\nhis lodge still struggling with the left sleeve of his", "went on,\nas if delivering a scientific lecture, “but they must be sufficiently\nstartling—effective. Let them be directed against buildings, for\ninstance. What is the fetish of the hour that all the bourgeoisie\nrecognise—eh, Mr Verloc?”\n\nMr Verloc opened his hands and shrugged his shoulders slightly.\n\n“You are too lazy to think,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment upon that gesture.\n“Pay attention to what I say. The fetish of", "a secret agent of political police, dwelling\nsecure in the consciousness of his high value and in the esteem of high\npersonages. He was excusable.\n\nNow the thing had ended in a crash. Mr Verloc was cool; but he was not\ncheerful. A secret agent who throws his secrecy to the winds from desire\nof vengeance, and flaunts his achievements before the public eye, becomes\nthe mark for desperate and bloodthirsty indignations. Without unduly\nexaggerating the danger, Mr Verloc tried to bring it clearly", "œAh! Yes. Of course. Let’s see. How much did you get for obtaining\nthe design of the improved breech-block of their new field-gun?”\n\n“Five years’ rigorous confinement in a fortress,” Mr Verloc answered\nunexpectedly, but without any sign of feeling.\n\n“You got off easily,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment. “And, anyhow, it served\nyou right for letting yourself get caught.", "erities of conduct. And after the striking of the\nblow, this respectability was continued in immobility and silence.\n\nNothing moved in the parlour till Mrs Verloc raised her head slowly and\nlooked at the clock with inquiring mistrust. She had become aware of a\nticking sound in the room. It grew upon her ear, while she remembered\nclearly that the clock on the wall was silent, had no audible tick. What\ndid it mean by beginning to tick so loudly all of a sudden? Its face\nindicated ten minutes to", "in themselves unlovely\nand unfriendly to man.\n\nMr Verloc felt the latent unfriendliness of all out of doors with a force\napproaching to positive bodily anguish. There is no occupation that\nfails a man more completely than that of a secret agent of police. It’s\nlike your horse suddenly falling dead under you in the midst of an\nuninhabited and thirsty plain. The comparison occurred to Mr Verloc\nbecause he had sat astride various army horses in his time, and had now\nthe sensation of an inc", "placidity of an experienced wife, expressed a\nconfident opinion as to the cause, and suggested the usual remedies; but\nher husband, rooted in the middle of the room, shook his lowered head\nsadly.\n\n“You’ll catch cold standing there,” she observed.\n\nMr Verloc made an effort, finished undressing, and got into bed. Down\nbelow in the quiet, narrow street measured footsteps approached the\nhouse, then died away unhurried and firm, as if the passer-by had started\nto", "nine. Mrs Verloc cared nothing for time, and\nthe ticking went on. She concluded it could not be the clock, and her\nsullen gaze moved along the walls, wavered, and became vague, while she\nstrained her hearing to locate the sound. Tic, tic, tic.\n\nAfter listening for some time Mrs Verloc lowered her gaze deliberately on\nher husband’s body. Its attitude of repose was so home-like and familiar\nthat she could do so without feeling embarrassed by any pronounced\nnovelty in the phenomena", "likely that\nMichaelis knows nothing of it to this moment.”\n\n“You are positive as to that?” asked the great man.\n\n“Quite certain, Sir Ethelred. This fellow Verloc went there this\nmorning, and took away the lad on the pretence of going out for a walk in\nthe lanes. As it was not the first time that he did this, Michaelis\ncould not have the slightest suspicion of anything unusual. For the\nrest, Sir Ethelred, the indignation", "it was a failure, if not exactly the\nsort of failure he had feared. It had been so near success that he could\nhave positively terrified Mr Vladimir out of his ferocious scoffing with\nthis proof of occult efficiency. So at least it seemed now to Mr Verloc.\nHis prestige with the Embassy would have been immense if—if his wife had\nnot had the unlucky notion of sewing on the address inside Stevie’s\novercoat. Mr Verloc, who was no fool, had soon perceived the\nextra", " And\nthe time was long.\n\nThe constable on the beat had in truth seen something of Mrs Verloc; only\ncoming from the lighted thoroughfare at the other end of Brett Street,\nshe had been no more to him than a flutter in the darkness. And he was\nnot even quite sure that there had been a flutter. He had no reason to\nhurry up. On coming abreast of the shop he observed that it had been\nclosed early. There was nothing very unusual in that. The men on duty\nhad special instructions about that", "inheritance of her\nimmemorial and obscure descent, the simple ferocity of the age of\ncaverns, and the unbalanced nervous fury of the age of bar-rooms. Mr\nVerloc, the Secret Agent, turning slightly on his side with the force of\nthe blow, expired without stirring a limb, in the muttered sound of the\nword “Don’t” by way of protest.\n\nMrs Verloc had let go the knife, and her extraordinary resemblance to her\nlate brother had faded, had become very ordinary", "XIX CENTURY\n IS AFFECTIONATELY OFFERED\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nMr Verloc, going out in the morning, left his shop nominally in charge of\nhis brother-in-law. It could be done, because there was very little\nbusiness at any time, and practically none at all before the evening. Mr\nVerloc cared but little about his ostensible business. And, moreover,\nhis wife was in charge of his brother-in-law.\n\nThe shop was small, and so was the", "attempting the inconceivable. The artist\nnever turned his head; and in all his soul’s application to the task his\nback quivered, his thin neck, sunk into a deep hollow at the base of the\nskull, seemed ready to snap.\n\nMr Verloc, after a grunt of disapproving surprise, returned to the sofa.\nAlexander Ossipon got up, tall in his threadbare blue serge suit under\nthe low ceiling, shook off the stiffness of long immobility, and strolled\naway into the kitchen (down" ], [ "him over together with his\nwife’s mother and with the furniture, which was the whole visible fortune\nof the family. Mr Verloc gathered everything as it came to his broad,\ngood-natured breast. The furniture was disposed to the best advantage\nall over the house, but Mrs Verloc’s mother was confined to two back\nrooms on the first floor. The luckless Stevie slept in one of them. By\nthis time a growth of thin fluffy hair had come to blur, like a golden\nmist, the sharp line", "cottage was as destitute of provisions as the\ncell of a prisoner. The ticket-of-leave apostle lived on a little milk\nand crusts of stale bread. Moreover, when Mr Verloc arrived he had\nalready gone upstairs after his frugal meal. Absorbed in the toil and\ndelight of literary composition, he had not even answered Mr Verloc’s\nshout up the little staircase.\n\n“I am taking this young fellow home for a day or two.”\n\nAnd, in truth, Mr Verloc", "lonely gas-jet, then up a flight\nof winding stairs, and through a glazed and cheerful corridor on the\nfirst floor. The footman threw open a door, and stood aside. The feet\nof Mr Verloc felt a thick carpet. The room was large, with three\nwindows; and a young man with a shaven, big face, sitting in a roomy\narm-chair before a vast mahogany writing-table, said in French to the\nChancelier d’Ambassade, who was going out with the papers in his hand:", "Verloc listened with careworn\nattention.\n\nHe was comforted by hearing her move at last. She walked suddenly across\nthe room, and threw the window up. After a period of stillness up there,\nduring which he figured her to himself with her head out, he heard the\nsash being lowered slowly. Then she made a few steps, and sat down.\nEvery resonance of his house was familiar to Mr Verloc, who was\nthoroughly domesticated. When next he heard his wife’s footsteps\noverhead he knew,", ". The door of the shop was the only means of entrance to the house\nin which Mr Verloc carried on his business of a seller of shady wares,\nexercised his vocation of a protector of society, and cultivated his\ndomestic virtues. These last were pronounced. He was thoroughly\ndomesticated. Neither his spiritual, nor his mental, nor his physical\nneeds were of the kind to take him much abroad. He found at home the\nease of his body and the peace of his conscience, together with Mrs\nVerloc’s", "\nfascinating companion for a voyage down the sparkling stream of life;\nonly his boat was very small. There was room in it for a girl-partner at\nthe oar, but no accommodation for passengers. He was allowed to drift\naway from the threshold of the Belgravian mansion while Winnie averted\nher tearful eyes. He was not a lodger. The lodger was Mr Verloc,\nindolent, and keeping late hours, sleepily jocular of a morning from\nunder his bed-clothes, but with gleams of infat", ", who are themselves a queer lot, and are\neasily aggrieved. And there was always the anxiety of his mere existence\nto face. Visions of a workhouse infirmary for her child had haunted the\nold woman in the basement breakfast-room of the decayed Belgravian house.\n“If you had not found such a good husband, my dear,” she used to say to\nher daughter, “I don’t know what would have become of that poor boy.”\n\nMr Verloc extended as", "little too far,\nisn’t it? He lives over his shop?”\n\n“Who—Verloc? Oh yes. He lives over his shop. The wife’s mother, I\nfancy, lives with them.”\n\n“Is the house watched?”\n\n“Oh dear, no. It wouldn’t do. Certain people who come there are\nwatched. My opinion is that he knows nothing of this affair.”\n\nâ", "he spoke again, in a far less elaborate manner.\n\n“Your husband has not gone out to wait for me in the street by chance?”\n\n“In the street!” repeated Mrs Verloc, surprised. “He couldn’t. There’s\nno other door to the house.”\n\nFor a moment she sat impassive, then left her seat to go and peep through\nthe glazed door. Suddenly she opened it, and disappeared into the\nparlour.\n\nMr Ver", "dress and with a chain round his neck, glanced\nup from the newspaper he was holding spread out in both hands before his\ncalm and severe face. He didn’t move; but another lackey, in brown\ntrousers and claw-hammer coat edged with thin yellow cord, approaching Mr\nVerloc listened to the murmur of his name, and turning round on his heel\nin silence, began to walk, without looking back once. Mr Verloc, thus\nled along a ground-floor passage to the left of the great carpeted\nstaircase, was", "ing himself of his clothing with the unnoticing\ninward concentration of a man undressing in the solitude of a vast and\nhopeless desert. For thus inhospitably did this fair earth, our common\ninheritance, present itself to the mental vision of Mr Verloc. All was\nso still without and within that the lonely ticking of the clock on the\nlanding stole into the room as if for the sake of company.\n\nMr Verloc, getting into bed on his own side, remained prone and mute\nbehind Mrs Verloc’s back.", "Private. It’s quiet. My husband will take you\nthere.”\n\n“A good idea,” said the thin, dark man, whose glance had hardened\nsuddenly.\n\n“You knew Mr Verloc before—didn’t you? Perhaps in France?”\n\n“I have heard of him,” admitted the visitor in his slow, painstaking\ntone, which yet had a certain curtness of intention.\n\nThere was a pause. Then", "Mr Michaelis. She missed him poignantly,\nwith all the force of her protecting passion. This was the boy’s home\ntoo—the roof, the cupboard, the stoked grate. On this thought Mrs Verloc\nrose, and walking to the other end of the table, said in the fulness of\nher heart:\n\n“And you are not tired of me.”\n\nMr Verloc made no sound. Winnie leaned on his shoulder from behind, and\npressed her lips to his forehead. Thus she", "gentlemen lodgers, Mrs Verloc’s mother had acquired\na dismal but resigned notion of the fantastic side of human nature. What\nif Mr Verloc suddenly took it into his head to tell Stevie to take his\nblessed sticks somewhere out of that? A division, on the other hand,\nhowever carefully made, might give some cause of offence to Winnie. No,\nStevie must remain destitute and dependent. And at the moment of leaving\nBrett Street she had said to her daughter: “No use waiting till I am", "placidity of an experienced wife, expressed a\nconfident opinion as to the cause, and suggested the usual remedies; but\nher husband, rooted in the middle of the room, shook his lowered head\nsadly.\n\n“You’ll catch cold standing there,” she observed.\n\nMr Verloc made an effort, finished undressing, and got into bed. Down\nbelow in the quiet, narrow street measured footsteps approached the\nhouse, then died away unhurried and firm, as if the passer-by had started\nto", "prudence of the\nwoman, took Mr Verloc unawares. He had left his boots downstairs, but he\nhad forgotten to put on his slippers, and he had been turning about the\nbedroom on noiseless pads like a bear in a cage. At the sound of his\nwife’s voice he stopped and stared at her with a somnambulistic,\nexpressionless gaze so long that Mrs Verloc moved her limbs slightly\nunder the bed-clothes. But she did not move her black head sunk in the\nwhite pillow one hand", "he did not go incontinently to impart to her that\ninformation. First of all, it was clear to him that this evening was no\ntime for business. He got up to close the street door and put the gas\nout in the shop.\n\nHaving thus assured a solitude around his hearthstone Mr Verloc walked\ninto the parlour, and glanced down into the kitchen. Mrs Verloc was\nsitting in the place where poor Stevie usually established himself of an\nevening with paper and pencil for the pastime of drawing these\ncoruscations of in", "in\nthat house, with that man—since the boy was gone for ever. No need\nwhatever. And on that Mrs Verloc rose as if raised by a spring. But\nneither could she see what there was to keep her in the world at all.\nAnd this inability arrested her. Mr Verloc watched her with marital\nsolicitude.\n\n“You’re looking more like yourself,” he said uneasily. Something\npeculiar in the blackness of his wife’s eyes disturbed his", "the\nBelgravian mansion. There was obviously no future in such work. The\ngentlemen tipped him a shilling now and then. Mr Verloc showed himself\nthe most generous of lodgers. But altogether all that did not amount to\nmuch either in the way of gain or prospects; so that when Winnie\nannounced her engagement to Mr Verloc her mother could not help\nwondering, with a sigh and a glance towards the scullery, what would\nbecome of poor Stephen now.\n\nIt appeared that Mr Verloc was ready to take", "of her reposing husband it was\nnot because she was afraid of him. Mr Verloc was not frightful to\nbehold. He looked comfortable. Moreover, he was dead. Mrs Verloc\nentertained no vain delusions on the subject of the dead. Nothing brings\nthem back, neither love nor hate. They can do nothing to you. They are\nas nothing. Her mental state was tinged by a sort of austere contempt\nfor that man who had let himself be killed so easily. He had been the\nmaster of a house" ], [ "jingling of glass, as if\nabout to collapse behind the cab; and the infirm horse, with the harness\nhung over his sharp backbone flapping very loose about his thighs,\nappeared to be dancing mincingly on his toes with infinite patience.\nLater on, in the wider space of Whitehall, all visual evidences of motion\nbecame imperceptible. The rattle and jingle of glass went on\nindefinitely in front of the long Treasury building—and time itself\nseemed to stand still.\n\nAt last Winnie", "You\nplan the future, you lose yourselves in reveries of economical systems\nderived from what is; whereas what’s wanted is a clean sweep and a clear\nstart for a new conception of life. That sort of future will take care\nof itself if you will only make room for it. Therefore I would shovel my\nstuff in heaps at the corners of the streets if I had enough for that;\nand as I haven’t, I do my best by perfecting a really dependable\ndetonator.”\n\nOss", "time to time. On all fours amongst the\npuddles, wet and begrimed, like a sort of amphibious and domestic animal\nliving in ash-bins and dirty water, she uttered the usual exordium: “It’s\nall very well for you, kept doing nothing like a gentleman.” And she\nfollowed it with the everlasting plaint of the poor, pathetically\nmendacious, miserably authenticated by the horrible breath of cheap rum\nand soap-suds. She", "heavy black\nfigures; a few numbers of ancient French comic publications hung across a\nstring as if to dry; a dingy blue china bowl, a casket of black wood,\nbottles of marking ink, and rubber stamps; a few books, with titles\nhinting at impropriety; a few apparently old copies of obscure\nnewspapers, badly printed, with titles like _The Torch_, _The\nGong_—rousing titles. And the two gas jets inside the panes were always\nturned low, either for economyâ", "away somewhere or dead. His parents are dead; the girl he\nwas to marry has died while he was in prison; he has lost the skill\nnecessary for his manual occupation. He told me all this himself with\nthe sweetest patience; but then, he said, he had had plenty of time to\nthink out things for himself. A pretty compensation! If that’s the\nstuff revolutionists are made of some of us may well go on their knees to\nthem,” she continued in a slightly bantering voice, while the banal\nsociety smiles", "about it: if you will have it that I killed the boy, then\nyou’ve killed him as much as I.”\n\nIn sincerity of feeling and openness of statement, these words went far\nbeyond anything that had ever been said in this home, kept up on the\nwages of a secret industry eked out by the sale of more or less secret\nwares: the poor expedients devised by a mediocre mankind for preserving\nan imperfect society from the dangers of moral and physical corruption,\nboth secret too of their kind. ", "nine. Mrs Verloc cared nothing for time, and\nthe ticking went on. She concluded it could not be the clock, and her\nsullen gaze moved along the walls, wavered, and became vague, while she\nstrained her hearing to locate the sound. Tic, tic, tic.\n\nAfter listening for some time Mrs Verloc lowered her gaze deliberately on\nher husband’s body. Its attitude of repose was so home-like and familiar\nthat she could do so without feeling embarrassed by any pronounced\nnovelty in the phenomena", "glitter\nfalling here and there on the walls of houses or lowered upon the heads\nof the unconscious stream of people on the pavements. The ghost of a\nsickly smile altered the set of Ossipon’s thick lips at the thought of\nthe walls nodding, of people running for life at the sight of those\nspectacles. If they had only known! What a panic! He murmured\ninterrogatively: “Been sitting long here?”\n\n“An hour or more,” answered the other neglig", "in the\nclose-woven stuff of relations between conspirator and police there occur\nunexpected solutions of continuity, sudden holes in space and time. A\ngiven anarchist may be watched inch by inch and minute by minute, but a\nmoment always comes when somehow all sight and touch of him are lost for\na few hours, during which something (generally an explosion) more or less\ndeplorable does happen. But the high official, carried away by his sense\nof the fitness of things, had smiled, and now the recollection of that\nsmile was very annoying to", "two states expressing themselves outwardly by the\nsame signs of futile bodily agitation, his sister Winnie soothed his\nexcitement without ever fathoming its twofold character. Mrs Verloc\nwasted no portion of this transient life in seeking for fundamental\ninformation. This is a sort of economy having all the appearances and\nsome of the advantages of prudence. Obviously it may be good for one not\nto know too much. And such a view accords very well with constitutional\nindolence.\n\nOn that evening on which it may be said", "in the old affair of fireworks on the\nstairs had for many years resisted entreaties, coaxing, anger, and other\nmeans of investigation used by his beloved sister. For Stevie was loyal.\n. . . “No, I can’t imagine. It’s possible that he never thought of that\nat all. It sounds an extravagant way of putting it, Sir Ethelred, but\nhis state of dismay suggested to me an impulsive man who, after\ncommitting suicide with the notion that", "€™s stare\nhad grown hard, intent, inventive.\n\n“I can’t bring him to you myself every week,” she cried. “But don’t you\nworry, mother. I’ll see to it that he don’t get lost for long.”\n\nThey felt a peculiar bump; a vision of brick pillars lingered before the\nrattling windows of the cab; a sudden cessation of atrocious jolting and\nuproarious jingling", "ractical application of my teaching interests _you_ mostly. But from\nthe moment I have undertaken to interview you I have also given some\nattention to the practical aspect of the question. What do you think of\nhaving a go at astronomy?”\n\nFor sometime already Mr Verloc’s immobility by the side of the arm-chair\nresembled a state of collapsed coma—a sort of passive insensibility\ninterrupted by slight convulsive starts, such as may be observed in the\ndomestic dog having a nightmare on the he", "I can’t call to mind anything insignificant enough to compare him\nwith—except Karl Yundt perhaps. Like to like. The terrorist and the\npoliceman both come from the same basket. Revolution, legality—counter\nmoves in the same game; forms of idleness at bottom identical. He plays\nhis little game—so do you propagandists. But I don’t play; I work\nfourteen hours a day, and go hungry sometimes. My experiments cost money\nnow and again,", "made material sacrifices for such an object, she in that way. It was the\nonly way. Moreover, she would be able to see how it worked. Ill or well\nshe would avoid the horrible incertitude on the death-bed. But it was\nhard, hard, cruelly hard.\n\nThe cab rattled, jingled, jolted; in fact, the last was quite\nextraordinary. By its disproportionate violence and magnitude it\nobliterated every sensation of onward movement; and the effect was of\nbeing shaken in", "”\n\n“I am afraid that if you want to go down into history you’ll have to do\nsomething for it. Seriously, there’s no danger whatever for both of you\nbut from overwork.”\n\nThe sympathetic Toodles welcomed this opening for a chuckle.\n\n“The Fisheries won’t kill me. I am used to late hours,” he declared,\nwith ingenuous levity. But, feeling an instant compunction, he began to\nassume an", "enderness of a reed addressing an oak. And indeed the\nunbroken record of that man’s descent surpassed in the number of\ncenturies the age of the oldest oak in the country.\n\n“No. As far as one can be positive about anything I can assure you that\nit is not.”\n\n“Yes. But your idea of assurances over there,” said the great man, with\na contemptuous wave of his hand towards a window giving on the broad\nthoroughfare, “", "™ll have you\nyet.”\n\nIt was very well said, without scorn, with an almost austere quietness.\n\n“Doubtless,” was the answer; “but there’s no time like the present,\nbelieve me. For a man of real convictions this is a fine opportunity of\nself-sacrifice. You may not find another so favourable, so humane.\nThere isn’t even a cat near us, and these condemned old houses would make\na good heap", "shortly, staring straight before her.\n\nAnd the cab jolted in front of a steamy, greasy shop in a blaze of gas\nand in the smell of fried fish.\n\nThe old woman raised a wail again.\n\n“And, my dear, I must see that poor boy every Sunday. He won’t mind\nspending the day with his old mother—”\n\nWinnie screamed out stolidly:\n\n“Mind! I should think not. That poor boy will miss you something cruel", "table. But they all seemed to approach the game in the spirit of\nco-sufferers, as if it were indeed a drug against the secret ills of\nexistence; and every day as the sun declined over the countless roofs of\nthe town, a mellow, pleasurable impatience, resembling the impulse of a\nsure and profound friendship, lightened his professional labours. And\nnow this pleasurable sensation went out of him with something resembling\na physical shock, and was replaced by a special kind of interest in his\nwork of social protectionâ€" ], [ "\n\nMrs Verloc shuddered at the sound of her husband’s voice. She did not\nuncover her face. The trusted secret agent of the late Baron\nStott-Wartenheim looked at her for a time with a heavy, persistent,\nundiscerning glance. The torn evening paper was lying at her feet. It\ncould not have told her much. Mr Verloc felt the need of talking to his\nwife.\n\n“It’s that damned Heat—eh?” he said. ", "“He upset you. He’s a brute,\nblurting it out like this to a woman. I made myself ill thinking how to\nbreak it to you. I sat for hours in the little parlour of Cheshire\nCheese thinking over the best way. You understand I never meant any harm\nto come to that boy.”\n\nMr Verloc, the Secret Agent, was speaking the truth. It was his marital\naffection that had received the greatest shock from the premature\nexplosion. He added:\n\n", "\nother side of the door, Chief Inspector Heat was saying to Mr Verloc, the\nsecret agent:\n\n“So your defence will be practically a full confession?”\n\n“It will. I am going to tell the whole story.”\n\n“You won’t be believed as much as you fancy you will.”\n\nAnd the Chief Inspector remained thoughtful. The turn this affair was\ntaking meant the disclosure of many things—the laying waste of fields of\nknowledge, which", "a secret agent of political police, dwelling\nsecure in the consciousness of his high value and in the esteem of high\npersonages. He was excusable.\n\nNow the thing had ended in a crash. Mr Verloc was cool; but he was not\ncheerful. A secret agent who throws his secrecy to the winds from desire\nof vengeance, and flaunts his achievements before the public eye, becomes\nthe mark for desperate and bloodthirsty indignations. Without unduly\nexaggerating the danger, Mr Verloc tried to bring it clearly", "\n“I think,” he said, looking at her steadily, “that you could give me a\npretty good notion of what’s going on if you liked.”\n\nForcing her fine, inert eyes to return his gaze, Mrs Verloc murmured:\n\n“Going on! What _is_ going on?”\n\n“Why, the affair I came to talk about a little with your husband.”\n\nThat day Mrs Verloc had glanced at a morning paper as usual. ", "inheritance of her\nimmemorial and obscure descent, the simple ferocity of the age of\ncaverns, and the unbalanced nervous fury of the age of bar-rooms. Mr\nVerloc, the Secret Agent, turning slightly on his side with the force of\nthe blow, expired without stirring a limb, in the muttered sound of the\nword “Don’t” by way of protest.\n\nMrs Verloc had let go the knife, and her extraordinary resemblance to her\nlate brother had faded, had become very ordinary", "“The state of affairs you expose there is assumed to exist as the first\ncondition of your employment. What is required at present is not\nwriting, but the bringing to light of a distinct, significant fact—I\nwould almost say of an alarming fact.”\n\n“I need not say that all my endeavours shall be directed to that end,” Mr\nVerloc said, with convinced modulations in his conversational husky tone.\nBut the sense of being blinked at watchfully behind the blind glitter of\nthese eye-glass", "points a twist just then. His\nlong, bony face rose out of a turned-up collar. He was a little\nsplashed, a little wet. A dark man, with the ridge of the cheek-bone\nwell defined under the slightly hollow temple. A complete stranger. Not\na customer either.\n\nMrs Verloc looked at him placidly.\n\n“You came over from the Continent?” she said after a time.\n\nThe long, thin stranger, without exactly looking at Mrs Verloc, answered\nonly by a faint", "to know a\ngood deal beforehand to make use of a man like that. I can understand\nthe sort of hint he can give. And when I want a hint he can generally\nfurnish it to me.”\n\nThe Chief Inspector lost himself suddenly in a discreet reflective mood;\nand the Assistant Commissioner repressed a smile at the fleeting thought\nthat the reputation of Chief Inspector Heat might possibly have been made\nin a great part by the Secret Agent Verloc.\n\n“In a more general way of being of use, all our men of", "stuttering existence of fears and indignations, together with\nthe violence of his end, had passed out of Mr Verloc’s mental sight for a\ntime. For that reason, when he looked up he was startled by the\ninappropriate character of his wife’s stare. It was not a wild stare,\nand it was not inattentive, but its attention was peculiar and not\nsatisfactory, inasmuch that it seemed concentrated upon some point beyond\nMr Verloc’s person. The impression was so strong that Mr Verloc", "than even you yourself are aware of.”\n\nMrs Verloc sat still, amazed, lost in boundless astonishment. What was\nthe connection? And she became so rigid all over that she was not able\nto turn her head at the clatter of the bell, which caused the private\ninvestigator Heat to spin round on his heel. Mr Verloc had shut the\ndoor, and for a moment the two men looked at each other.\n\nMr Verloc, without looking at his wife, walked up to the Chief Inspector,\nwho was relieved to see", "the secret of his thoughts, failed to appreciate the\ngenerosity of this restraint.\n\n“It isn’t that he doesn’t work as well as ever,” she continued. “He’s\nbeen making himself very useful. You’d think he couldn’t do enough for\nus.”\n\nMr Verloc directed a casual and somnolent glance at Stevie, who sat on\nhis right, delicate, pale-faced, his rosy mouth open vacantly. It", " Though Mr Verloc’s fatalism accepted\nhis undoing as a secret agent, he had no mind to be utterly ruined,\nmostly, it must be owned, from regard for his wife.\n\nSilent, and out of his line of sight in the kitchen, she frightened him.\nIf only she had had her mother with her. But that silly old woman—An\nangry dismay possessed Mr Verloc. He must talk with his wife. He could\ntell her certainly that a man does get desperate under certain\ncircumstances. But", ". I daresay you could not\nhelp seeing it in my eyes. But I could not guess it. You were always so\ndistant. . . .”\n\n“What else did you expect?” burst out Mrs Verloc. “I was a respectable\nwoman—”\n\nShe paused, then added, as if speaking to herself, in sinister\nresentment: “Till he made me what I am.”\n\nOssipon let that pass, and took up his running", "It was in the character of a private citizen that\nwalking out privately he made use of his customary conveyances. Their\ngeneral direction was towards Mr Verloc’s home. Chief Inspector Heat\nrespected his own private character so consistently that he took especial\npains to avoid all the police constables on point and patrol duty in the\nvicinity of Brett Street. This precaution was much more necessary for a\nman of his standing than for an obscure Assistant Commissioner. Private\nCitizen Heat entered the street, manoeuvring in a", "before his\nwife’s mind. He repeated that he had no intention to let the\nrevolutionists do away with him.\n\nHe looked straight into his wife’s eyes. The enlarged pupils of the\nwoman received his stare into their unfathomable depths.\n\n“I am too fond of you for that,” he said, with a little nervous laugh.\n\nA faint flush coloured Mrs Verloc’s ghastly and motionless face. Having\ndone with the visions of the past", "of a\nrailway station in nervous jerky phrases.\n\n“He was an extraordinary lad, that brother of yours. Most interesting to\nstudy. A perfect type in a way. Perfect!”\n\nHe spoke scientifically in his secret fear. And Mrs Verloc, hearing\nthese words of commendation vouchsafed to her beloved dead, swayed\nforward with a flicker of light in her sombre eyes, like a ray of\nsunshine heralding a tempest of rain.\n\n“He was that indeed", "understand either the nature or the whole extent of that\nsentiment. And in this he was excusable, since it was impossible for him\nto understand it without ceasing to be himself. He was startled and\ndisappointed, and his speech conveyed it by a certain roughness of tone.\n\n“You might look at a fellow,” he observed after waiting a while.\n\nAs if forced through the hands covering Mrs Verloc’s face the answer\ncame, deadened, almost pitiful.\n\n“I don’", ". Victim of her marriage with\na debauched joiner, she was oppressed by the needs of many infant\nchildren. Red-armed, and aproned in coarse sacking up to the arm-pits,\nshe exhaled the anguish of the poor in a breath of soap-suds and rum, in\nthe uproar of scrubbing, in the clatter of tin pails.\n\nMrs Verloc, full of deep purpose, spoke in the tone of the shallowest\nindifference.\n\n“There is no need to have the", "agnant and deep like a placid pool, whose guarded\nsurface hardly shuddered on the occasional passage of Comrade Ossipon,\nthe robust anarchist with shamelessly inviting eyes, whose glance had a\ncorrupt clearness sufficient to enlighten any woman not absolutely\nimbecile.\n\nA few seconds only had elapsed since the last word had been uttered aloud\nin the kitchen, and Mrs Verloc was staring already at the vision of an\nepisode not more than a fortnight old. With eyes whose pupils were\nextremely" ], [ "ing or persuasive eloquence. Mr Verloc never meant Stevie to\nperish with such abrupt violence. He did not mean him to perish at all.\nStevie dead was a much greater nuisance than ever he had been when alive.\nMr Verloc had augured a favourable issue to his enterprise, basing\nhimself not on Stevie’s intelligence, which sometimes plays queer tricks\nwith a man, but on the blind docility and on the blind devotion of the\nboy. Though not much of a psychologist,", "ordinary character of the influence he had over Stevie, though he\ndid not understand exactly its origin—the doctrine of his supreme wisdom\nand goodness inculcated by two anxious women. In all the eventualities\nhe had foreseen Mr Verloc had calculated with correct insight on Stevie’s\ninstinctive loyalty and blind discretion. The eventuality he had not\nforeseen had appalled him as a humane man and a fond husband. From every\nother point of view it was rather advantageous. Nothing can equal the\never", "circumstance seemed perfectly\nindifferent to Mr Verloc, and as Winnie found an object of quasi-maternal\naffection in her brother, perhaps this was just as well for poor Stevie.\n\nFor he was difficult to dispose of, that boy. He was delicate and, in a\nfrail way, good-looking too, except for the vacant droop of his lower\nlip. Under our excellent system of compulsory education he had learned\nto read and write, notwithstanding the unfavourable aspect of the lower\nlip. ", "the secret of his thoughts, failed to appreciate the\ngenerosity of this restraint.\n\n“It isn’t that he doesn’t work as well as ever,” she continued. “He’s\nbeen making himself very useful. You’d think he couldn’t do enough for\nus.”\n\nMr Verloc directed a casual and somnolent glance at Stevie, who sat on\nhis right, delicate, pale-faced, his rosy mouth open vacantly. It", "was\nnot a critical glance. It had no intention. And if Mr Verloc thought\nfor a moment that his wife’s brother looked uncommonly useless, it was\nonly a dull and fleeting thought, devoid of that force and durability\nwhich enables sometimes a thought to move the world. Leaning back, Mr\nVerloc uncovered his head. Before his extended arm could put down the\nhat Stevie pounced upon it, and bore it off reverently into the kitchen.\nAnd again Mr Verloc was surprised.\n\n“You could do", "€\n\n“Yes; I did,” answered Mrs Verloc conscientiously. “That poor boy is in\na very excited state to-night,” she murmured, after a pause which lasted\nfor three ticks of the clock.\n\nMr Verloc cared nothing for Stevie’s excitement, but he felt horribly\nwakeful, and dreaded facing the darkness and silence that would follow\nthe extinguishing of the lamp. This dread led him to make the remark\nthat Stevie had disregarded his", "he added concisely.\n\nIt was clear to Mrs Verloc that he was greatly excited.\n\n“Nobody can help that,” she said. “Do come along. Is that the way\nyou’re taking care of me?”\n\nStevie mended his pace obediently. He prided himself on being a good\nbrother. His morality, which was very complete, demanded that from him.\nYet he was pained at the information imparted by his sister Winnie who\n", "to Mr Verloc, his\nintense meditation, like a sort of Chinese wall, isolated him completely\nfrom the phenomena of this world of vain effort and illusory appearances.\n\nHer selection made, the disposal of the rest became a perplexing question\nin a particular way. She was leaving it in Brett Street, of course. But\nshe had two children. Winnie was provided for by her sensible union with\nthat excellent husband, Mr Verloc. Stevie was destitute—and a little\npeculiar. His position had to be", "ould have been too cruel. And it was even possible that Stevie would\nnot have believed them. As far as Mr Verloc was concerned, nothing could\nstand in the way of Stevie’s belief. Mr Verloc was obviously yet\nmysteriously _good_. And the grief of a good man is august.\n\nStevie gave glances of reverential compassion to his brother-in-law. Mr\nVerloc was sorry. The brother of Winnie had never before felt himself in\nsuch close communion with the mystery of that manâ", "of a need than a\ndirect order or request. Mr Verloc perceived with some surprise that he\ndid not know really what to say to Stevie. He stood still in the middle\nof the parlour, and looked into the kitchen in silence. Nor yet did he\nknow what would happen if he did say anything. And this appeared very\nqueer to Mr Verloc in view of the fact, borne upon him suddenly, that he\nhad to provide for this fellow too. He had never given a moment’s\nthought till then to that aspect of Stev", "a submissive creature. The protection she\nhad extended over her brother had been in its origin of a fierce and\nindignant complexion. She had to love him with a militant love. She had\nbattled for him—even against herself. His loss had the bitterness of\ndefeat, with the anguish of a baffled passion. It was not an ordinary\nstroke of death. Moreover, it was not death that took Stevie from her.\nIt was Mr Verloc who took him away. She had seen him", "boy,” as they alluded to him\nsoftly between themselves, had been a source of that sort of anxiety\nalmost from the very day of his birth. The late licensed victualler’s\nhumiliation at having such a very peculiar boy for a son manifested\nitself by a propensity to brutal treatment; for he was a person of fine\nsensibilities, and his sufferings as a man and a father were perfectly\ngenuine. Afterwards Stevie had to be kept from making himself a nuisance\nto the single gentlemen lodgers", "such a\nperfection of grotesque misery and weirdness of macabre detail, as if it\nwere the Cab of Death itself, that Mrs Verloc, with that ready compassion\nof a woman for a horse (when she is not sitting behind him), exclaimed\nvaguely:\n\n“Poor brute!”\n\nHanging back suddenly, Stevie inflicted an arresting jerk upon his\nsister.\n\n“Poor! Poor!” he ejaculated appreciatively. “Cabman poor", "€™s goodness. It was an\nunderstandable sorrow. And Stevie himself was sorry. He was very sorry.\nThe same sort of sorrow. And his attention being drawn to this\nunpleasant state, Stevie shuffled his feet. His feelings were habitually\nmanifested by the agitation of his limbs.\n\n“Keep your feet quiet, dear,” said Mrs Verloc, with authority and\ntenderness; then turning towards her husband in an indifferent voice, the\nmasterly achievement of instinctive tact", "under her cheek and the big, dark, unwinking eyes.\n\nUnder her husband’s expressionless stare, and remembering her mother’s\nempty room across the landing, she felt an acute pang of loneliness. She\nhad never been parted from her mother before. They had stood by each\nother. She felt that they had, and she said to herself that now mother\nwas gone—gone for good. Mrs Verloc had no illusions. Stevie remained,\nhowever. And she said:\n\nâ", "\nthink, my dear, that Mr Verloc is getting tired of seeing Stevie about?”\nTo this Winnie replied habitually by a slight toss of her head. Once,\nhowever, she retorted, with a rather grim pertness: “He’ll have to get\ntired of me first.” A long silence ensued. The mother, with her feet\npropped up on a stool, seemed to be trying to get to the bottom of that\nanswer, whose feminine profundity had struck her all of a", " There were shouts on the pavement, people ran\nforward, the driver pulled up, whispering curses of indignation and\nastonishment. Winnie lowered the window, and put her head out, white as\na ghost. In the depths of the cab, her mother was exclaiming, in tones\nof anguish: “Is that boy hurt? Is that boy hurt?”\n\nStevie was not hurt, he had not even fallen, but excitement as usual had\nrobbed him of the power of connected speech", "in the old affair of fireworks on the\nstairs had for many years resisted entreaties, coaxing, anger, and other\nmeans of investigation used by his beloved sister. For Stevie was loyal.\n. . . “No, I can’t imagine. It’s possible that he never thought of that\nat all. It sounds an extravagant way of putting it, Sir Ethelred, but\nhis state of dismay suggested to me an impulsive man who, after\ncommitting suicide with the notion that", "anything with that boy, Adolf,” Mrs Verloc said, with her\nbest air of inflexible calmness. “He would go through fire for you.\nHe—”\n\nShe paused attentive, her ear turned towards the door of the kitchen.\n\nThere Mrs Neale was scrubbing the floor. At Stevie’s appearance she\ngroaned lamentably, having observed that he could be induced easily to\nbestow for the benefit of her infant children the shilling his sister\nWinnie presented him with from", "lame,” pursued the other, whispering with energy. “He ain’t\ngot no sore places on ’im. ’Ere he is. ’Ow would _you_ like—”\n\nHis strained, extinct voice invested his utterance with a character of\nvehement secrecy. Stevie’s vacant gaze was changing slowly into dread.\n\n“You may well look! Till three and four o’clock in the morning" ], [ "wreathed in smiles, because he was\nwitty, but his eyes remained serious, like the eyes of convinced man.\n\n“Well, he tried to at least,” amended the lady.\n\n“Force of habit perhaps,” said the Assistant Commissioner, moved by an\nirresistible inspiration.\n\n“He has been threatening society with all sorts of horrors,” continued\nthe lady, whose enunciation was caressing and slow, “apropos of this\nexplosion in Greenwich Park", "™ll have to spoil your holiday\nfor you, though. There’s a man blown up in Greenwich Park this morning.”\n\n“How do you know?”\n\n“They have been yelling the news in the streets since two o’clock. I\nbought the paper, and just ran in here. Then I saw you sitting at this\ntable. I’ve got it in my pocket now.”\n\nHe pulled the newspaper out. It was a good-sized rosy", "escorted the other to\nthe spot, and then to have left him there to do the job single-handed.\nTaking the time those two were seen coming out of Maze Hill Station by\nthe old woman, and the time when the explosion was heard, the Chief\nInspector thought that the other man might have been actually at the\nGreenwich Park Station, ready to catch the next train up, at the moment\nhis comrade was destroying himself so thoroughly.\n\n“Very thoroughly—eh?” murmured the Assistant Commissioner from under the\nshadow of his hand.\n", "the man blown to\npieces in Greenwich Park not having been identified. It was\ninconceivable on any theory that Verloc should have given her an inkling\nof his intention—whatever it was. This problem interested Comrade\nOssipon immensely. He stopped short. They had gone then along the three\nsides of Brett Place, and were near the end of Brett Street again.\n\n“How did you first come to hear of it?” he asked in a tone he tried to\nrender appropriate to the", "wet clay and\ncontaining sixteen ounces of X2 green powder. The detonator was\nconnected with the screw top of the can. It was ingenious—a combination\nof time and shock. I explained the system to him. It was a thin tube of\ntin enclosing a—”\n\nOssipon’s attention had wandered.\n\n“What do you think has happened?” he interrupted.\n\n“Can’t tell. Screwed the top on tight", "wondered what was up with her, why\nshe had worked herself into this state of wild excitement. He even began\nto wonder whether the hidden causes of that Greenwich Park affair did not\nlie deep in the unhappy circumstances of the Verlocs’ married life. He\nwent so far as to suspect Mr Verloc of having selected that extraordinary\nmanner of committing suicide. By Jove! that would account for the utter\ninanity and wrong-headedness of the thing. No anarchist manifestation\nwas required by the circumstances. Quite the contrary; and", "sheet, as if\nflushed by the warmth of its own convictions, which were optimistic. He\nscanned the pages rapidly.\n\n“Ah! Here it is. Bomb in Greenwich Park. There isn’t much so far.\nHalf-past eleven. Foggy morning. Effects of explosion felt as far as\nRomney Road and Park Place. Enormous hole in the ground under a tree\nfilled with smashed roots and broken branches. All round fragments of a\nman’s body blown to pieces", "went on,\nas if delivering a scientific lecture, “but they must be sufficiently\nstartling—effective. Let them be directed against buildings, for\ninstance. What is the fetish of the hour that all the bourgeoisie\nrecognise—eh, Mr Verloc?”\n\nMr Verloc opened his hands and shrugged his shoulders slightly.\n\n“You are too lazy to think,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment upon that gesture.\n“Pay attention to what I say. The fetish of", "ered up and down. Its movements were leisurely.\nThey were leisurely enough for Mr Verloc to recognise the limb and the\nweapon.\n\nThey were leisurely enough for him to take in the full meaning of the\nportent, and to taste the flavour of death rising in his gorge. His wife\nhad gone raving mad—murdering mad. They were leisurely enough for the\nfirst paralysing effect of this discovery to pass away before a resolute\ndetermination to come out victorious from the gh", "Vladimir, so well known in the best society by their\nhumorous urbanity, beamed with cynical self-satisfaction, which would\nhave astonished the intelligent women his wit entertained so exquisitely.\n“Yes,” he continued, with a contemptuous smile, “the blowing up of the\nfirst meridian is bound to raise a howl of execration.”\n\n“A difficult business,” Mr Verloc mumbled, feeling that this was the only\nsafe thing to say.\n", "“He upset you. He’s a brute,\nblurting it out like this to a woman. I made myself ill thinking how to\nbreak it to you. I sat for hours in the little parlour of Cheshire\nCheese thinking over the best way. You understand I never meant any harm\nto come to that boy.”\n\nMr Verloc, the Secret Agent, was speaking the truth. It was his marital\naffection that had received the greatest shock from the premature\nexplosion. He added:\n\n", ". That’s all. The rest’s mere newspaper gup.\nNo doubt a wicked attempt to blow up the Observatory, they say. H’m.\nThat’s hardly credible.”\n\nHe looked at the paper for a while longer in silence, then passed it to\nthe other, who after gazing abstractedly at the print laid it down\nwithout comment.\n\nIt was Ossipon who spoke first—still resentful.\n\n“The fragments of only _one_ man", "the inner breast pocket of his\njacket. His clothes, of a nondescript brown mixture, were threadbare and\nmarked with stains, dusty in the folds, with ragged button-holes. “The\ndetonator is partly mechanical, partly chemical,” he explained, with\ncasual condescension.\n\n“It is instantaneous, of course?” murmured Ossipon, with a slight\nshudder.\n\n“Far from it,” confessed the other, with", "to blow himself up? He’s gone. His troubles are over. Ours\nare just going to begin, I tell you, precisely because he did blow\nhimself. I don’t blame you. But just try to understand that it was a\npure accident; as much an accident as if he had been run over by a ’bus\nwhile crossing the street.”\n\nHis generosity was not infinite, because he was a human being—and not a\nmonster, as Mrs Verloc believed him to be. ", "in Greenwich Park, because Mr Verloc went\nout very early that morning and did not come back till nearly dusk. She\ndid not mind being alone. She had no desire to go out. The weather was\ntoo bad, and the shop was cosier than the streets. Sitting behind the\ncounter with some sewing, she did not raise her eyes from her work when\nMr Verloc entered in the aggressive clatter of the bell. She had\nrecognised his step on the pavement outside.\n\nShe did not raise her eyes, but as Mr Verloc,", ",” he added in a reproving\ntone. “Did he say anything to you—give you some idea of his intentions?\nI hadn’t seen him for a month. It seems impossible that he should be\ngone.”\n\n“He told me it was going to be a demonstration against a building,” said\nthe Professor. “I had to know that much to prepare the missile. I\npointed out to him that I had hardly a sufficient quantity for a\ncom", ", you note. Ergo: blew _himself_ up.\nThat spoils your day off for you—don’t it? Were you expecting that sort\nof move? I hadn’t the slightest idea—not the ghost of a notion of\nanything of the sort being planned to come off here—in this country.\nUnder the present circumstances it’s nothing short of criminal.”\n\nThe little man lifted his thin black eyebrows with dispassionate scorn.\n\n“Criminal", "hour or so. There is much in this affair of a kind that does\nnot meet the eye in a usual anarchist outrage, even if one looked into it\nas deep as can be. That’s why I am here.”\n\nThe great man put his arms akimbo, the backs of his big hands resting on\nhis hips.\n\n“Very well. Go on. Only no details, pray. Spare me the details.”\n\n“You shall not be troubled with them, Sir Ethelred", "of this\nspecial system, which is only for my own use. The worst is that the\nmanner of exploding is always the weak point with us. I am trying to\ninvent a detonator that would adjust itself to all conditions of action,\nand even to unexpected changes of conditions. A variable and yet\nperfectly precise mechanism. A really intelligent detonator.”\n\n“Twenty seconds,” muttered Ossipon again. “Ough! And then—”\n\nWith a slight", "€™s overflowing heart flowed into an empty place\nin his wife’s memory. Greenwich Park. A park! That’s where the boy was\nkilled. A park—smashed branches, torn leaves, gravel, bits of brotherly\nflesh and bone, all spouting up together in the manner of a firework.\nShe remembered now what she had heard, and she remembered it pictorially.\nThey had to gather him up with the shovel. Trembling all over with\nirrepressible shud" ], [ "Mr Michaelis. She missed him poignantly,\nwith all the force of her protecting passion. This was the boy’s home\ntoo—the roof, the cupboard, the stoked grate. On this thought Mrs Verloc\nrose, and walking to the other end of the table, said in the fulness of\nher heart:\n\n“And you are not tired of me.”\n\nMr Verloc made no sound. Winnie leaned on his shoulder from behind, and\npressed her lips to his forehead. Thus she", "s opinion Mr Verloc was a very nice gentleman. From\nher life’s experience gathered in various “business houses” the good\nwoman had taken into her retirement an ideal of gentlemanliness as\nexhibited by the patrons of private-saloon bars. Mr Verloc approached\nthat ideal; he attained it, in fact.\n\n“Of course, we’ll take over your furniture, mother,” Winnie had remarked.\n\nThe lodging-house was to be given up. It seems it would not", "the\nBelgravian mansion. There was obviously no future in such work. The\ngentlemen tipped him a shilling now and then. Mr Verloc showed himself\nthe most generous of lodgers. But altogether all that did not amount to\nmuch either in the way of gain or prospects; so that when Winnie\nannounced her engagement to Mr Verloc her mother could not help\nwondering, with a sigh and a glance towards the scullery, what would\nbecome of poor Stephen now.\n\nIt appeared that Mr Verloc was ready to take", "to Mr Verloc, his\nintense meditation, like a sort of Chinese wall, isolated him completely\nfrom the phenomena of this world of vain effort and illusory appearances.\n\nHer selection made, the disposal of the rest became a perplexing question\nin a particular way. She was leaving it in Brett Street, of course. But\nshe had two children. Winnie was provided for by her sensible union with\nthat excellent husband, Mr Verloc. Stevie was destitute—and a little\npeculiar. His position had to be", "It won’t be long before I am with you.”\n\nMrs Verloc, the free woman who had had really no idea where she was going\nto, obeyed the suggestion with rigid steadiness.\n\nMr Verloc watched her. She disappeared up the stairs. He was\ndisappointed. There was that within him which would have been more\nsatisfied if she had been moved to throw herself upon his breast. But he\nwas generous and indulgent. Winnie was always undemonstrative and\nsilent. Neither was Mr", "\nthink, my dear, that Mr Verloc is getting tired of seeing Stevie about?”\nTo this Winnie replied habitually by a slight toss of her head. Once,\nhowever, she retorted, with a rather grim pertness: “He’ll have to get\ntired of me first.” A long silence ensued. The mother, with her feet\npropped up on a stool, seemed to be trying to get to the bottom of that\nanswer, whose feminine profundity had struck her all of a", "two states expressing themselves outwardly by the\nsame signs of futile bodily agitation, his sister Winnie soothed his\nexcitement without ever fathoming its twofold character. Mrs Verloc\nwasted no portion of this transient life in seeking for fundamental\ninformation. This is a sort of economy having all the appearances and\nsome of the advantages of prudence. Obviously it may be good for one not\nto know too much. And such a view accords very well with constitutional\nindolence.\n\nOn that evening on which it may be said", "of her glossy dark hair. Winnie\nhad also other charms: her youth; her full, rounded form; her clear\ncomplexion; the provocation of her unfathomable reserve, which never went\nso far as to prevent conversation, carried on on the lodgers’ part with\nanimation, and on hers with an equable amiability. It must be that Mr\nVerloc was susceptible to these fascinations. Mr Verloc was an\nintermittent patron. He came and went without any very apparent reason.\nHe generally arrived in London (", "more trouble—with his\nwife too—of all people in the world. He had been unanswerable in his\nvindication. He was loved for himself. The present phase of her silence\nhe interpreted favourably. This was the time to make it up with her.\nThe silence had lasted long enough. He broke it by calling to her in an\nundertone.\n\n“Winnie.”\n\n“Yes,” answered obediently Mrs Verloc the free woman. She commanded her", "“I find I’ll have to go out this evening,” said Mr Verloc. He did not\nattempt to pick up his outer garment.\n\nWithout a word Winnie made for the shop, and shutting the door after her,\nwalked in behind the counter. She did not look overtly at the customer\ntill she had established herself comfortably on the chair. But by that\ntime she had noted that he was tall and thin, and wore his moustaches\ntwisted up. In fact, he gave the sharp", "heap. She had\nnever really understood why Winnie had married Mr Verloc. It was very\nsensible of her, and evidently had turned out for the best, but her girl\nmight have naturally hoped to find somebody of a more suitable age.\nThere had been a steady young fellow, only son of a butcher in the next\nstreet, helping his father in business, with whom Winnie had been walking\nout with obvious gusto. He was dependent on his father, it is true; but\nthe business was good, and his prospects excellent. He", "except for a short shudder Mrs Verloc remained apparently unaffected\nby the force of that terrible truism. It was Mr Verloc himself who was\nmoved. He was moved in his simplicity to urge moderation by asserting\nthe claims of his own personality.\n\n“Do be reasonable, Winnie. What would it have been if you had lost me!”\n\nHe had vaguely expected to hear her cry out. But she did not budge. She\nleaned back a little, quieted down to a complete unreadable", ", Stevie. Stop that green ’bus.”\n\nAnd Stevie, tremulous and important with his sister Winnie on his arm,\nflung up the other high above his head at the approaching ’bus, with\ncomplete success.\n\nAn hour afterwards Mr Verloc raised his eyes from a newspaper he was\nreading, or at any rate looking at, behind the counter, and in the\nexpiring clatter of the door-bell beheld Winnie, his wife, enter and\ncross the shop on her way upstairs, followed by Ste", "Winnie made the tea, and called out in an\nundertone:\n\n“Adolf.”\n\nMr Verloc got up at once, and staggered a little before he sat down at\nthe table. His wife examining the sharp edge of the carving knife,\nplaced it on the dish, and called his attention to the cold beef. He\nremained insensible to the suggestion, with his chin on his breast.\n\n“You should feed your cold,” Mrs Verloc said dogmatically.\n\nHe looked", "her. This sorrow with a veiled face\nmade Mr Verloc uneasy. He expected, of course, his wife to be very much\nupset, but he wanted her to pull herself together. He needed all her\nassistance and all her loyalty in these new conjunctures his fatalism had\nalready accepted.\n\n“Can’t be helped,” he said in a tone of gloomy sympathy. “Come, Winnie,\nwe’ve got to think of to-morrow. You’", "allers (the acquaintances once\nupon a time of her late unlucky husband), Mrs Verloc’s mother had at last\nsecured her admission to certain almshouses founded by a wealthy\ninnkeeper for the destitute widows of the trade.\n\nThis end, conceived in the astuteness of her uneasy heart, the old woman\nhad pursued with secrecy and determination. That was the time when her\ndaughter Winnie could not help passing a remark to Mr Verloc that “mother\nhas been spending half-crowns", "took her girl to\nthe theatre on several evenings. Then just as she began to dread to hear\nof their engagement (for what could she have done with that big house\nalone, with Stevie on her hands), that romance came to an abrupt end, and\nWinnie went about looking very dull. But Mr Verloc, turning up\nprovidentially to occupy the first-floor front bedroom, there had been no\nmore question of the young butcher. It was clearly providential.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\n“ . . . All ideal", "ometimes it was Mrs Verloc who would appear at the call of the cracked\nbell. Winnie Verloc was a young woman with a full bust, in a tight\nbodice, and with broad hips. Her hair was very tidy. Steady-eyed like\nher husband, she preserved an air of unfathomable indifference behind the\nrampart of the counter. Then the customer of comparatively tender years\nwould get suddenly disconcerted at having to deal with a woman, and with\nrage in his heart would proffer a request for a bottle of", "acquaintance, and Mrs Verloc remembered having seen him\nbefore. Not a customer. She softened her “customer stare” to mere\nindifference, and faced him across the counter.\n\nHe approached, on his side, confidentially, but not too markedly so.\n\n“Husband at home, Mrs Verloc?” he asked in an easy, full tone.\n\n“No. He’s gone out.”\n\n“I am sorry for that. I’ve", "œOf course, what is she to do to keep up? If I were like Mrs Neale I\nexpect I wouldn’t act any different.”\n\nIn the afternoon of the same day, as Mr Verloc, coming with a start out\nof the last of a long series of dozes before the parlour fire, declared\nhis intention of going out for a walk, Winnie said from the shop:\n\n“I wish you would take that boy out with you, Adolf.”\n\nFor the third time that day Mr Verloc was surprised" ], [ ". The door of the shop was the only means of entrance to the house\nin which Mr Verloc carried on his business of a seller of shady wares,\nexercised his vocation of a protector of society, and cultivated his\ndomestic virtues. These last were pronounced. He was thoroughly\ndomesticated. Neither his spiritual, nor his mental, nor his physical\nneeds were of the kind to take him much abroad. He found at home the\nease of his body and the peace of his conscience, together with Mrs\nVerloc’s", "in which neither wall, nor\ntree, nor beast, nor man cast a shadow. Mr Verloc was going westward\nthrough a town without shadows in an atmosphere of powdered old gold.\nThere were red, coppery gleams on the roofs of houses, on the corners of\nwalls, on the panels of carriages, on the very coats of the horses, and\non the broad back of Mr Verloc’s overcoat, where they produced a dull\neffect of rustiness. But Mr Verloc was not in the least conscious of\nhaving got rusty", "in Greenwich Park, because Mr Verloc went\nout very early that morning and did not come back till nearly dusk. She\ndid not mind being alone. She had no desire to go out. The weather was\ntoo bad, and the shop was cosier than the streets. Sitting behind the\ncounter with some sewing, she did not raise her eyes from her work when\nMr Verloc entered in the aggressive clatter of the bell. She had\nrecognised his step on the pavement outside.\n\nShe did not raise her eyes, but as Mr Verloc,", "the\npainted deal counter, Mr Verloc would issue hastily from the parlour at\nthe back. His eyes were naturally heavy; he had an air of having\nwallowed, fully dressed, all day on an unmade bed. Another man would\nhave felt such an appearance a distinct disadvantage. In a commercial\ntransaction of the retail order much depends on the seller’s engaging and\namiable aspect. But Mr Verloc knew his business, and remained\nundisturbed by any sort of æsthetic doubt about his appearance. With a\nfirm,", "shop: what went on about there was\nnot to be meddled with unless absolutely disorderly, but any observations\nmade were to be reported. There were no observations to make; but from a\nsense of duty and for the peace of his conscience, owing also to that\ndoubtful flutter of the darkness, the constable crossed the road, and\ntried the door. The spring latch, whose key was reposing for ever off\nduty in the late Mr Verloc’s waistcoat pocket, held as well as usual.\nWhile the conscient", "van arrested in front of the dimly lit\nwindow-panes of a carter’s eating-house. The man was refreshing himself\ninside, and the horses, their big heads lowered to the ground, fed out of\nnose-bags steadily. Farther on, on the opposite side of the street,\nanother suspect patch of dim light issued from Mr Verloc’s shop front,\nhung with papers, heaving with vague piles of cardboard boxes and the\nshapes of books. The Assistant Commissioner stood observing it across\n", "were an integral part of his outdoor activities,\nwhich his wife had never looked deeply into. Mrs Verloc felt that the\nposition was delicate, but she faced it with the same impenetrable\ncalmness which impressed and even astonished the customers of the shop\nand made the other visitors keep their distance a little wonderingly.\nNo! She feared that there were things not good for Stevie to hear of,\nshe told her husband. It only excited the poor boy, because he could not\nhelp them being so. Nobody could.\n\nIt was in the shop. ", "“I find I’ll have to go out this evening,” said Mr Verloc. He did not\nattempt to pick up his outer garment.\n\nWithout a word Winnie made for the shop, and shutting the door after her,\nwalked in behind the counter. She did not look overtly at the customer\ntill she had established herself comfortably on the chair. But by that\ntime she had noted that he was tall and thin, and wore his moustaches\ntwisted up. In fact, he gave the sharp", "œAdolf!” Mr Verloc had\nnot changed his position; he had not apparently stirred a limb for an\nhour and a half. He got up heavily, and came to his dinner in his\novercoat and with his hat on, without uttering a word. His silence in\nitself had nothing startlingly unusual in this household, hidden in the\nshades of the sordid street seldom touched by the sun, behind the dim\nshop with its wares of disreputable rubbish. Only that day Mr Verloc’", "lonely gas-jet, then up a flight\nof winding stairs, and through a glazed and cheerful corridor on the\nfirst floor. The footman threw open a door, and stood aside. The feet\nof Mr Verloc felt a thick carpet. The room was large, with three\nwindows; and a young man with a shaven, big face, sitting in a roomy\narm-chair before a vast mahogany writing-table, said in French to the\nChancelier d’Ambassade, who was going out with the papers in his hand:", "his purchases\npersonally. A little select connection of amateurs was forming around\nthe shop in Brett Street, a secret connection eminently proper for any\nbusiness undertaken by Mr Verloc, who, by a mystic accord of temperament\nand necessity, had been set apart to be a secret agent all his life.\n\nHe waited for a while, then added: “I’ll be away a week or perhaps a\nfortnight. Get Mrs Neale to come for the day.”\n\nMrs Neale was the charwoman of Brett Street", "its own. He raised his arm, and turned off the flaring\ngas-jet above his head.\n\nA bright band of light fell through the parlour door into the part of the\nshop behind the counter. It enabled Mr Verloc to ascertain at a glance\nthe number of silver coins in the till. These were but few; and for the\nfirst time since he opened his shop he took a commercial survey of its\nvalue. This survey was unfavourable. He had gone into trade for no\ncommercial reasons. He had been guided in the selection of this", "dress and with a chain round his neck, glanced\nup from the newspaper he was holding spread out in both hands before his\ncalm and severe face. He didn’t move; but another lackey, in brown\ntrousers and claw-hammer coat edged with thin yellow cord, approaching Mr\nVerloc listened to the murmur of his name, and turning round on his heel\nin silence, began to walk, without looking back once. Mr Verloc, thus\nled along a ground-floor passage to the left of the great carpeted\nstaircase, was", "heels of\npeople not sufficiently well off to keep horses—like Mr Verloc, for\ninstance.\n\nWinnie, at the shop door, did not see this fatal attendant upon Mr\nVerloc’s walks. She watched the two figures down the squalid street, one\ntall and burly, the other slight and short, with a thin neck, and the\npeaked shoulders raised slightly under the large semi-transparent ears.\nThe material of their overcoats was the same, their hats were black and\nround in shape. Inspired by", "little too far,\nisn’t it? He lives over his shop?”\n\n“Who—Verloc? Oh yes. He lives over his shop. The wife’s mother, I\nfancy, lives with them.”\n\n“Is the house watched?”\n\n“Oh dear, no. It wouldn’t do. Certain people who come there are\nwatched. My opinion is that he knows nothing of this affair.”\n\nâ", "ilance.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nSuch was the house, the household, and the business Mr Verloc left behind\nhim on his way westward at the hour of half-past ten in the morning. It\nwas unusually early for him; his whole person exhaled the charm of almost\ndewy freshness; he wore his blue cloth overcoat unbuttoned; his boots\nwere shiny; his cheeks, freshly shaven, had a sort of gloss; and even his\nheavy-lidded eyes, refreshed by a night of peaceful sl", "offended. You know you do get yourself\nvery untidy when you get a chance, Stevie.”\n\nMr Verloc was already gone some way down the street.\n\nThus in consequence of her mother’s heroic proceedings, and of her\nbrother’s absence on this villegiature, Mrs Verloc found herself oftener\nthan usual all alone not only in the shop, but in the house. For Mr\nVerloc had to take his walks. She was alone longer than usual on the day\nof the attempted bomb outrage", "he did not go incontinently to impart to her that\ninformation. First of all, it was clear to him that this evening was no\ntime for business. He got up to close the street door and put the gas\nout in the shop.\n\nHaving thus assured a solitude around his hearthstone Mr Verloc walked\ninto the parlour, and glanced down into the kitchen. Mrs Verloc was\nsitting in the place where poor Stevie usually established himself of an\nevening with paper and pencil for the pastime of drawing these\ncoruscations of in", "XIX CENTURY\n IS AFFECTIONATELY OFFERED\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nMr Verloc, going out in the morning, left his shop nominally in charge of\nhis brother-in-law. It could be done, because there was very little\nbusiness at any time, and practically none at all before the evening. Mr\nVerloc cared but little about his ostensible business. And, moreover,\nhis wife was in charge of his brother-in-law.\n\nThe shop was small, and so was the", "from the material world was so\ncomplete that, though the mortal envelope of Mr Verloc had not hastened\nunduly along the streets, that part of him to which it would be\nunwarrantably rude to refuse immortality, found itself at the shop door\nall at once, as if borne from west to east on the wings of a great wind.\nHe walked straight behind the counter, and sat down on a wooden chair\nthat stood there. No one appeared to disturb his solitude. Stevie, put\ninto a green baize apron, was now sweeping" ], [ ". The door of the shop was the only means of entrance to the house\nin which Mr Verloc carried on his business of a seller of shady wares,\nexercised his vocation of a protector of society, and cultivated his\ndomestic virtues. These last were pronounced. He was thoroughly\ndomesticated. Neither his spiritual, nor his mental, nor his physical\nneeds were of the kind to take him much abroad. He found at home the\nease of his body and the peace of his conscience, together with Mrs\nVerloc’s", "the\npainted deal counter, Mr Verloc would issue hastily from the parlour at\nthe back. His eyes were naturally heavy; he had an air of having\nwallowed, fully dressed, all day on an unmade bed. Another man would\nhave felt such an appearance a distinct disadvantage. In a commercial\ntransaction of the retail order much depends on the seller’s engaging and\namiable aspect. But Mr Verloc knew his business, and remained\nundisturbed by any sort of æsthetic doubt about his appearance. With a\nfirm,", "were an integral part of his outdoor activities,\nwhich his wife had never looked deeply into. Mrs Verloc felt that the\nposition was delicate, but she faced it with the same impenetrable\ncalmness which impressed and even astonished the customers of the shop\nand made the other visitors keep their distance a little wonderingly.\nNo! She feared that there were things not good for Stevie to hear of,\nshe told her husband. It only excited the poor boy, because he could not\nhelp them being so. Nobody could.\n\nIt was in the shop. ", "its own. He raised his arm, and turned off the flaring\ngas-jet above his head.\n\nA bright band of light fell through the parlour door into the part of the\nshop behind the counter. It enabled Mr Verloc to ascertain at a glance\nthe number of silver coins in the till. These were but few; and for the\nfirst time since he opened his shop he took a commercial survey of its\nvalue. This survey was unfavourable. He had gone into trade for no\ncommercial reasons. He had been guided in the selection of this", "XIX CENTURY\n IS AFFECTIONATELY OFFERED\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nMr Verloc, going out in the morning, left his shop nominally in charge of\nhis brother-in-law. It could be done, because there was very little\nbusiness at any time, and practically none at all before the evening. Mr\nVerloc cared but little about his ostensible business. And, moreover,\nhis wife was in charge of his brother-in-law.\n\nThe shop was small, and so was the", "van arrested in front of the dimly lit\nwindow-panes of a carter’s eating-house. The man was refreshing himself\ninside, and the horses, their big heads lowered to the ground, fed out of\nnose-bags steadily. Farther on, on the opposite side of the street,\nanother suspect patch of dim light issued from Mr Verloc’s shop front,\nhung with papers, heaving with vague piles of cardboard boxes and the\nshapes of books. The Assistant Commissioner stood observing it across\n", "in Greenwich Park, because Mr Verloc went\nout very early that morning and did not come back till nearly dusk. She\ndid not mind being alone. She had no desire to go out. The weather was\ntoo bad, and the shop was cosier than the streets. Sitting behind the\ncounter with some sewing, she did not raise her eyes from her work when\nMr Verloc entered in the aggressive clatter of the bell. She had\nrecognised his step on the pavement outside.\n\nShe did not raise her eyes, but as Mr Verloc,", "Stevie\nin the eyes of Mrs Verloc. She was taking it confoundedly hard, he\nthought to himself. It was all the fault of that damned Heat. What did\nhe want to upset the woman for? But she mustn’t be allowed, for her own\ngood, to carry on so till she got quite beside herself.\n\n“Look here! You can’t sit like this in the shop,” he said with affected\nseverity, in which there was some real annoyance; for urgent practical\n", "\n“I think,” he said, looking at her steadily, “that you could give me a\npretty good notion of what’s going on if you liked.”\n\nForcing her fine, inert eyes to return his gaze, Mrs Verloc murmured:\n\n“Going on! What _is_ going on?”\n\n“Why, the affair I came to talk about a little with your husband.”\n\nThat day Mrs Verloc had glanced at a morning paper as usual. ", "mere suspicion of which would have been infinitely shocking\nto Mr Verloc’s idea of love, remained irresolute, as if scrupulously\naware of something wanting on her part for the formal closing of the\ntransaction.\n\nOn the sofa Mr Verloc wriggled his shoulders into perfect comfort, and\nfrom the fulness of his heart emitted a wish which was certainly as pious\nas anything likely to come from such a source.\n\n“I wish to goodness,” he growled huskily, “I had never seen Greenwich\n", "her eyes, giving her a new and startling\nexpression; an expression seldom observed by competent persons under the\nconditions of leisure and security demanded for thorough analysis, but\nwhose meaning could not be mistaken at a glance. Mrs Verloc’s doubts as\nto the end of the bargain no longer existed; her wits, no longer\ndisconnected, were working under the control of her will. But Mr Verloc\nobserved nothing. He was reposing in that pathetic condition of optimism\ninduced by excess of fatigue. He did not want any", "his purchases\npersonally. A little select connection of amateurs was forming around\nthe shop in Brett Street, a secret connection eminently proper for any\nbusiness undertaken by Mr Verloc, who, by a mystic accord of temperament\nand necessity, had been set apart to be a secret agent all his life.\n\nHe waited for a while, then added: “I’ll be away a week or perhaps a\nfortnight. Get Mrs Neale to come for the day.”\n\nMrs Neale was the charwoman of Brett Street", ", and Mrs Verloc moving briskly, carried the\ntray into the kitchen. She washed the cups and some other things before\nshe stopped in her work to listen. No sound reached her. The customer\nwas a long time in the shop. It was a customer, because if he had not\nbeen Mr Verloc would have taken him inside. Undoing the strings of her\napron with a jerk, she threw it on a chair, and walked back to the\nparlour slowly.\n\nAt that precise moment Mr Verloc entered from the shop.\n\n", "\n\nMrs Verloc shuddered at the sound of her husband’s voice. She did not\nuncover her face. The trusted secret agent of the late Baron\nStott-Wartenheim looked at her for a time with a heavy, persistent,\nundiscerning glance. The torn evening paper was lying at her feet. It\ncould not have told her much. Mr Verloc felt the need of talking to his\nwife.\n\n“It’s that damned Heat—eh?” he said. ", "ometimes it was Mrs Verloc who would appear at the call of the cracked\nbell. Winnie Verloc was a young woman with a full bust, in a tight\nbodice, and with broad hips. Her hair was very tidy. Steady-eyed like\nher husband, she preserved an air of unfathomable indifference behind the\nrampart of the counter. Then the customer of comparatively tender years\nwould get suddenly disconcerted at having to deal with a woman, and with\nrage in his heart would proffer a request for a bottle of", "he did not go incontinently to impart to her that\ninformation. First of all, it was clear to him that this evening was no\ntime for business. He got up to close the street door and put the gas\nout in the shop.\n\nHaving thus assured a solitude around his hearthstone Mr Verloc walked\ninto the parlour, and glanced down into the kitchen. Mrs Verloc was\nsitting in the place where poor Stevie usually established himself of an\nevening with paper and pencil for the pastime of drawing these\ncoruscations of in", ". The idea of going for news straight to the\nshop lacked charm. His notion was that Verloc’s shop might have been\nturned already into a police trap. They will be bound to make some\narrests, he thought, with something resembling virtuous indignation, for\nthe even tenor of his revolutionary life was menaced by no fault of his.\nAnd yet unless he went there he ran the risk of remaining in ignorance of\nwhat perhaps it would be very material for him to know. Then he\nreflected that, if the man in", "œbusiness house,”\ndark under the roof and scintillating exceedingly with lights and cut\nglass at the level of the street like a fairy palace. That meretricious\nsplendour was the only one to be met in Mrs Verloc’s visions. She\nremembered brushing the boy’s hair and tying his pinafores—herself in a\npinafore still; the consolations administered to a small and badly scared\ncreature by another creature nearly as small but not quite so badly\n", "ching his head forward, saw a faint gleam in the darkness\nof the shop.\n\n“There is,” he said.\n\n“I forgot it.” Mrs Verloc’s voice came from behind her veil faintly. And\nas he stood waiting for her to enter first, she said louder: “Go in and\nput it out—or I’ll go mad.”\n\nHe made no immediate objection to this proposal, so strangely motived.\n“Whereâ", "certain amount of intelligence. Mr Verloc was not devoid of\nintelligence—and at the notion of a menaced social order he would perhaps\nhave winked to himself if there had not been an effort to make in that\nsign of scepticism. His big, prominent eyes were not well adapted to\nwinking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber\nwith majestic effect.\n\nUndemonstrative and burly in a fat-pig style, Mr Verloc, without either\nrubbing his hands with satisfaction or w" ], [ "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "ders, she saw before her the very implement with its\nghastly load scraped up from the ground. Mrs Verloc closed her eyes\ndesperately, throwing upon that vision the night of her eyelids, where\nafter a rainlike fall of mangled limbs the decapitated head of Stevie\nlingered suspended alone, and fading out slowly like the last star of a\npyrotechnic display. Mrs Verloc opened her eyes.\n\nHer face was no longer stony. Anybody could have noted the subtle change\non her features, in the stare of", ", the husband of a woman, and the murderer of her\nStevie. And now he was of no account in every respect. He was of less\npractical account than the clothing on his body, than his overcoat, than\nhis boots—than that hat lying on the floor. He was nothing. He was not\nworth looking at. He was even no longer the murderer of poor Stevie.\nThe only murderer that would be found in the room when people came to\nlook for Mr Verloc would be—herself!", "Stevie\nin the eyes of Mrs Verloc. She was taking it confoundedly hard, he\nthought to himself. It was all the fault of that damned Heat. What did\nhe want to upset the woman for? But she mustn’t be allowed, for her own\ngood, to carry on so till she got quite beside herself.\n\n“Look here! You can’t sit like this in the shop,” he said with affected\nseverity, in which there was some real annoyance; for urgent practical\n", "\n\nHer hands shook so that she failed twice in the task of refastening her\nveil. Mrs Verloc was no longer a person of leisure and responsibility.\nShe was afraid. The stabbing of Mr Verloc had been only a blow. It had\nrelieved the pent-up agony of shrieks strangled in her throat, of tears\ndried up in her hot eyes, of the maddening and indignant rage at the\natrocious part played by that man, who was less than nothing now, in\nrobbing her of the boy.", "old\ngirl,” he added in a softened voice.\n\nMrs Verloc’s mind got hold of that declaration with morbid tenacity. The\nman who had taken Stevie out from under her very eyes to murder him in a\nlocality whose name was at the moment not present to her memory would not\nallow her go out. Of course he wouldn’t.\n\nNow he had murdered Stevie he would never let her go. He would want to\nkeep her for nothing. And on this characteristic reasoning, having all\nthe", "She had become a free woman with a perfection of freedom which left her\nnothing to desire and absolutely nothing to do, since Stevie’s urgent\nclaim on her devotion no longer existed. Mrs Verloc, who thought in\nimages, was not troubled now by visions, because she did not think at\nall. And she did not move. She was a woman enjoying her complete\nirresponsibility and endless leisure, almost in the manner of a corpse.\nShe did not move, she did not think. Neither did the mortal envelope of\nthe late", "dilated she stared at the vision of her husband and poor Stevie\nwalking up Brett Street side by side away from the shop. It was the last\nscene of an existence created by Mrs Verloc’s genius; an existence\nforeign to all grace and charm, without beauty and almost without\ndecency, but admirable in the continuity of feeling and tenacity of\npurpose. And this last vision had such plastic relief, such nearness of\nform, such a fidelity of suggestive detail, that it wrung from Mrs Verloc\nan anguished", "a submissive creature. The protection she\nhad extended over her brother had been in its origin of a fierce and\nindignant complexion. She had to love him with a militant love. She had\nbattled for him—even against herself. His loss had the bitterness of\ndefeat, with the anguish of a baffled passion. It was not an ordinary\nstroke of death. Moreover, it was not death that took Stevie from her.\nIt was Mr Verloc who took him away. She had seen him", ". She had watched\nhim, without raising a hand, take the boy away. And she had let him go,\nlike—like a fool—a blind fool. Then after he had murdered the boy he\ncame home to her. Just came home like any other man would come home to\nhis wife. . . .\n\nThrough her set teeth Mrs Verloc muttered at the wall:\n\n“And I thought he had caught a cold.”\n\nMr Verloc heard these words and appropriated them.\n\n“It was", "€\n\n“Yes; I did,” answered Mrs Verloc conscientiously. “That poor boy is in\na very excited state to-night,” she murmured, after a pause which lasted\nfor three ticks of the clock.\n\nMr Verloc cared nothing for Stevie’s excitement, but he felt horribly\nwakeful, and dreaded facing the darkness and silence that would follow\nthe extinguishing of the lamp. This dread led him to make the remark\nthat Stevie had disregarded his", "fireplace. He turned no longer his back to the\nroom. With his features swollen and an air of being drugged, he followed\nhis wife’s movements with his eyes.\n\nMrs Verloc went about serenely, clearing up the table. Her tranquil\nvoice commented the idea thrown out in a reasonable and domestic tone.\nIt wouldn’t stand examination. She condemned it from every point of\nview. But her only real concern was Stevie’s welfare. He appeared to\nher thought in that connection as", "under her cheek and the big, dark, unwinking eyes.\n\nUnder her husband’s expressionless stare, and remembering her mother’s\nempty room across the landing, she felt an acute pang of loneliness. She\nhad never been parted from her mother before. They had stood by each\nother. She felt that they had, and she said to herself that now mother\nwas gone—gone for good. Mrs Verloc had no illusions. Stevie remained,\nhowever. And she said:\n\nâ", "silent, and with his hat\nrammed down upon his forehead, made straight for the parlour door, she\nsaid serenely:\n\n“What a wretched day. You’ve been perhaps to see Stevie?”\n\n“No! I haven’t,” said Mr Verloc softly, and slammed the glazed parlour\ndoor behind him with unexpected energy.\n\nFor some time Mrs Verloc remained quiescent, with her work dropped in her\nlap, before she put it away under the counter", "of her reposing husband it was\nnot because she was afraid of him. Mr Verloc was not frightful to\nbehold. He looked comfortable. Moreover, he was dead. Mrs Verloc\nentertained no vain delusions on the subject of the dead. Nothing brings\nthem back, neither love nor hate. They can do nothing to you. They are\nas nothing. Her mental state was tinged by a sort of austere contempt\nfor that man who had let himself be killed so easily. He had been the\nmaster of a house", "did not wait for an answer, but had marched out\nof the cottage at once, followed by the obedient Stevie.\n\nNow that all action was over and his fate taken out of his hands with\nunexpected swiftness, Mr Verloc felt terribly empty physically. He\ncarved the meat, cut the bread, and devoured his supper standing by the\ntable, and now and then casting a glance towards his wife. Her prolonged\nimmobility disturbed the comfort of his refection. He walked again into\nthe shop, and came up very close to", "Mr Verloc’s kindness the longer its effects were\nlikely to last. That excellent man loved his wife, of course, but he\nwould, no doubt, prefer to keep as few of her relations as was consistent\nwith the proper display of that sentiment. It would be better if its\nwhole effect were concentrated on poor Stevie. And the heroic old woman\nresolved on going away from her children as an act of devotion and as a\nmove of deep policy.\n\nThe “virtue” of this policy consisted in this (Mrs Ver", "\nof brutality, but was intimately known to Mrs Verloc as the note of\nwooing.\n\nShe started forward at once, as if she were still a loyal woman bound to\nthat man by an unbroken contract. Her right hand skimmed slightly the\nend of the table, and when she had passed on towards the sofa the carving\nknife had vanished without the slightest sound from the side of the dish.\nMr Verloc heard the creaky plank in the floor, and was content. He\nwaited. Mrs Verloc was coming. ", "\n\nMrs Verloc shuddered at the sound of her husband’s voice. She did not\nuncover her face. The trusted secret agent of the late Baron\nStott-Wartenheim looked at her for a time with a heavy, persistent,\nundiscerning glance. The torn evening paper was lying at her feet. It\ncould not have told her much. Mr Verloc felt the need of talking to his\nwife.\n\n“It’s that damned Heat—eh?” he said. ", "him. He took the boy away from me to murder him!”\n\nMrs Verloc’s whole being was racked by that inconclusive and maddening\nthought. It was in her veins, in her bones, in the roots of her hair.\nMentally she assumed the biblical attitude of mourning—the covered face,\nthe rent garments; the sound of wailing and lamentation filled her head.\nBut her teeth were violently clenched, and her tearless eyes were hot\nwith rage, because she was not" ], [ "went on,\nas if delivering a scientific lecture, “but they must be sufficiently\nstartling—effective. Let them be directed against buildings, for\ninstance. What is the fetish of the hour that all the bourgeoisie\nrecognise—eh, Mr Verloc?”\n\nMr Verloc opened his hands and shrugged his shoulders slightly.\n\n“You are too lazy to think,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment upon that gesture.\n“Pay attention to what I say. The fetish of", "\n\n“Constable!” said Mr Verloc, with no more effort than if he were\nwhispering; and Mr Vladimir burst into a laugh on seeing the policeman\nspin round as if prodded by a sharp instrument. Mr Verloc shut the\nwindow quietly, and returned to the middle of the room.\n\n“With a voice like that,” he said, putting on the husky conversational\npedal, “I was naturally trusted. And I knew what to say, too.”\n\nMr Vlad", "Vladimir, so well known in the best society by their\nhumorous urbanity, beamed with cynical self-satisfaction, which would\nhave astonished the intelligent women his wit entertained so exquisitely.\n“Yes,” he continued, with a contemptuous smile, “the blowing up of the\nfirst meridian is bound to raise a howl of execration.”\n\n“A difficult business,” Mr Verloc mumbled, feeling that this was the only\nsafe thing to say.\n", "’ve had\nyou called here on purpose to tell you this.”\n\nMr Vladimir observed the forced expression of bewilderment on Verloc’s\nface, and smiled sarcastically.\n\n“I see that you understand me perfectly. I daresay you are intelligent\nenough for your work. What we want now is activity—activity.”\n\nOn repeating this last word Mr Vladimir laid a long white forefinger on\nthe edge of the desk. Every trace of huskiness disappeared from Ver", "subject,” Mr Verloc said stolidly. “But my\nfather was French, and so—”\n\n“Never mind explaining,” interrupted the other. “I daresay you could\nhave been legally a Marshal of France and a Member of Parliament in\nEngland—and then, indeed, you would have been of some use to our\nEmbassy.”\n\nThis flight of fancy provoked something like a faint smile on Mr Verloc’s\nface. Mr Vladimir retained", "Vladimir, smiling\nvaguely at Mr Verloc.\n\n“You ought to venerate the memory of Baron Stott-Wartenheim,” he\nexclaimed suddenly.\n\nThe lowered physiognomy of Mr Verloc expressed a sombre and weary\nannoyance.\n\n“Permit me to observe to you,” he said, “that I came here because I was\nsummoned by a peremptory letter. I have been here only twice before in\nthe last eleven years, and certainly never at eleven", "of this man Verloc had left nothing\nin doubt—nothing whatever. He had been driven out of his mind almost by\nan extraordinary performance, which for you or me it would be difficult\nto take as seriously meant, but which produced a great impression\nobviously on him.”\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner then imparted briefly to the great man, who\nsat still, resting his eyes under the screen of his hand, Mr Verloc’s\nappreciation of Mr Vladimir’s proceedings and character. The Assistant\nCommissioner did not", "ly, “executed here in\nthis country; not only _planned_ here—that would not do—they would not\nmind. Your friends could set half the Continent on fire without\ninfluencing the public opinion here in favour of a universal repressive\nlegislation. They will not look outside their backyard here.”\n\nMr Verloc cleared his throat, but his heart failed him, and he said\nnothing.\n\n“These outrages need not be especially sanguinary,” Mr Vladimir", "€\n\nMr Verloc intimated hoarsely that he was in the habit of reading the\ndaily papers. To a further question his answer was that, of course, he\nunderstood what he read. At this Mr Vladimir, smiling faintly at the\ndocuments he was still scanning one after another, murmured “As long as\nit is not written in Latin, I suppose.”\n\n“Or Chinese,” added Mr Verloc stolidly.\n\n“H’m. Some of your revolutionary friends", "here to the French police, and—”\n\n“Tut, tut!” broke out Mr Vladimir, with a frowning grimace. “The French\npolice had no use for your warning. Don’t roar like this. What the\ndevil do you mean?”\n\nWith a note of proud humility Mr Verloc apologised for forgetting\nhimself. His voice,—famous for years at open-air meetings and at\nworkmen’s assemblies", "”\n\n“Nothing!” exclaimed Verloc, stirring not a limb, and not raising his\neyes, but with the note of sincere feeling in his tone. “I have several\ntimes prevented what might have been—”\n\n“There is a proverb in this country which says prevention is better than\ncure,” interrupted Mr Vladimir, throwing himself into the arm-chair. “It\nis stupid in a general way. There is no end to prevention. But it", "”\n\nAnd Mr Vladimir developed his idea from on high, with scorn and\ncondescension, displaying at the same time an amount of ignorance as to\nthe real aims, thoughts, and methods of the revolutionary world which\nfilled the silent Mr Verloc with inward consternation. He confounded\ncauses with effects more than was excusable; the most distinguished\npropagandists with impulsive bomb throwers; assumed organisation where in\nthe nature of things it could not exist; spoke of the social\nrevolutionary party one moment as of a perfectly discipl", "turned, and advanced into\nthe room with such determination that the very ends of his quaintly\nold-fashioned bow necktie seemed to bristle with unspeakable menaces.\nThe movement was so swift and fierce that Mr Verloc, casting an oblique\nglance, quailed inwardly.\n\n“Aha! You dare be impudent,” Mr Vladimir began, with an amazingly\nguttural intonation not only utterly un-English, but absolutely\nun-European, and startling even to Mr Verloc", "lasting discretion of death. Mr Verloc, sitting perplexed and\nfrightened in the small parlour of the Cheshire Cheese, could not help\nacknowledging that to himself, because his sensibility did not stand in\nthe way of his judgment. Stevie’s violent disintegration, however\ndisturbing to think about, only assured the success; for, of course, the\nknocking down of a wall was not the aim of Mr Vladimir’s menaces, but the\nproduction of a moral effect. With much", "œAh! Yes. Of course. Let’s see. How much did you get for obtaining\nthe design of the improved breech-block of their new field-gun?”\n\n“Five years’ rigorous confinement in a fortress,” Mr Verloc answered\nunexpectedly, but without any sign of feeling.\n\n“You got off easily,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment. “And, anyhow, it served\nyou right for letting yourself get caught.", "\ncharged with the duty of keeping track of London’s strayed houses. Why\npowers are not asked of Parliament (a short act would do) for compelling\nthose edifices to return where they belong is one of the mysteries of\nmunicipal administration. Mr Verloc did not trouble his head about it,\nhis mission in life being the protection of the social mechanism, not its\nperfectionment or even its criticism.\n\nIt was so early that the porter of the Embassy issued hurriedly out of\nhis lodge still struggling with the left sleeve of his", "it was a failure, if not exactly the\nsort of failure he had feared. It had been so near success that he could\nhave positively terrified Mr Vladimir out of his ferocious scoffing with\nthis proof of occult efficiency. So at least it seemed now to Mr Verloc.\nHis prestige with the Embassy would have been immense if—if his wife had\nnot had the unlucky notion of sewing on the address inside Stevie’s\novercoat. Mr Verloc, who was no fool, had soon perceived the\nextra", "stealing the French gun designs. And you got\nyourself caught. That must have been very disagreeable to our\nGovernment. You don’t seem to be very smart.”\n\nMr Verloc tried to exculpate himself huskily.\n\n“As I’ve had occasion to observe before, a fatal infatuation for an\nunworthy—”\n\nMr Vladimir raised a large white, plump hand. “Ah, yes. The unlucky\nattachment—", " In the\nlight of Mr Vladimir’s philosophy of bomb throwing they appeared\nhopelessly futile. The part of Mr Verloc in revolutionary politics\nhaving been to observe, he could not all at once, either in his own home\nor in larger assemblies, take the initiative of action. He had to be\ncautious. Moved by the just indignation of a man well over forty,\nmenaced in what is dearest to him—his repose and his security—he asked\nhimself scornfully what else could", "ined army, where\nthe word of chiefs was supreme, and at another as if it had been the\nloosest association of desperate brigands that ever camped in a mountain\ngorge. Once Mr Verloc had opened his mouth for a protest, but the\nraising of a shapely, large white hand arrested him. Very soon he became\ntoo appalled to even try to protest. He listened in a stillness of dread\nwhich resembled the immobility of profound attention.\n\n“A series of outrages,” Mr Vladimir continued calm" ], [ "him over together with his\nwife’s mother and with the furniture, which was the whole visible fortune\nof the family. Mr Verloc gathered everything as it came to his broad,\ngood-natured breast. The furniture was disposed to the best advantage\nall over the house, but Mrs Verloc’s mother was confined to two back\nrooms on the first floor. The luckless Stevie slept in one of them. By\nthis time a growth of thin fluffy hair had come to blur, like a golden\nmist, the sharp line", "Mr Verloc’s kindness the longer its effects were\nlikely to last. That excellent man loved his wife, of course, but he\nwould, no doubt, prefer to keep as few of her relations as was consistent\nwith the proper display of that sentiment. It would be better if its\nwhole effect were concentrated on poor Stevie. And the heroic old woman\nresolved on going away from her children as an act of devotion and as a\nmove of deep policy.\n\nThe “virtue” of this policy consisted in this (Mrs Ver", "Stevie\nin the eyes of Mrs Verloc. She was taking it confoundedly hard, he\nthought to himself. It was all the fault of that damned Heat. What did\nhe want to upset the woman for? But she mustn’t be allowed, for her own\ngood, to carry on so till she got quite beside herself.\n\n“Look here! You can’t sit like this in the shop,” he said with affected\nseverity, in which there was some real annoyance; for urgent practical\n", "\nthink, my dear, that Mr Verloc is getting tired of seeing Stevie about?”\nTo this Winnie replied habitually by a slight toss of her head. Once,\nhowever, she retorted, with a rather grim pertness: “He’ll have to get\ntired of me first.” A long silence ensued. The mother, with her feet\npropped up on a stool, seemed to be trying to get to the bottom of that\nanswer, whose feminine profundity had struck her all of a", "\nhung over him in her anxiety that he should believe Stevie to be a useful\nmember of the family. That ardour of protecting compassion exalted\nmorbidly in her childhood by the misery of another child tinged her\nsallow cheeks with a faint dusky blush, made her big eyes gleam under the\ndark lids. Mrs Verloc then looked younger; she looked as young as Winnie\nused to look, and much more animated than the Winnie of the Belgravian\nmansion days had ever allowed herself to appear to gentlemen lod", "that Mrs Verloc’s mother having\nparted for good from her children had also departed this life, Winnie\nVerloc did not investigate her brother’s psychology. The poor boy was\nexcited, of course. After once more assuring the old woman on the\nthreshold that she would know how to guard against the risk of Stevie\nlosing himself for very long on his pilgrimages of filial piety, she took\nher brother’s arm to walk away. Stevie did not even mutter to himself,\nbut with", "to Mr Verloc, his\nintense meditation, like a sort of Chinese wall, isolated him completely\nfrom the phenomena of this world of vain effort and illusory appearances.\n\nHer selection made, the disposal of the rest became a perplexing question\nin a particular way. She was leaving it in Brett Street, of course. But\nshe had two children. Winnie was provided for by her sensible union with\nthat excellent husband, Mr Verloc. Stevie was destitute—and a little\npeculiar. His position had to be", "were an integral part of his outdoor activities,\nwhich his wife had never looked deeply into. Mrs Verloc felt that the\nposition was delicate, but she faced it with the same impenetrable\ncalmness which impressed and even astonished the customers of the shop\nand made the other visitors keep their distance a little wonderingly.\nNo! She feared that there were things not good for Stevie to hear of,\nshe told her husband. It only excited the poor boy, because he could not\nhelp them being so. Nobody could.\n\nIt was in the shop. ", "under her cheek and the big, dark, unwinking eyes.\n\nUnder her husband’s expressionless stare, and remembering her mother’s\nempty room across the landing, she felt an acute pang of loneliness. She\nhad never been parted from her mother before. They had stood by each\nother. She felt that they had, and she said to herself that now mother\nwas gone—gone for good. Mrs Verloc had no illusions. Stevie remained,\nhowever. And she said:\n\nâ", "Verloc in an awed whisper.\n\nThe Chief Inspector let out a whistle. His eyes snapped.\n\n“Just so. Capital. And your brother now, what’s he like—a sturdy,\ndarkish chap—eh?”\n\n“Oh no,” exclaimed Mrs Verloc fervently. “That must be the thief.\nStevie’s slight and fair.”\n\n“Good,” said the Chief", "old\ngirl,” he added in a softened voice.\n\nMrs Verloc’s mind got hold of that declaration with morbid tenacity. The\nman who had taken Stevie out from under her very eyes to murder him in a\nlocality whose name was at the moment not present to her memory would not\nallow her go out. Of course he wouldn’t.\n\nNow he had murdered Stevie he would never let her go. He would want to\nkeep her for nothing. And on this characteristic reasoning, having all\nthe", "a submissive creature. The protection she\nhad extended over her brother had been in its origin of a fierce and\nindignant complexion. She had to love him with a militant love. She had\nbattled for him—even against herself. His loss had the bitterness of\ndefeat, with the anguish of a baffled passion. It was not an ordinary\nstroke of death. Moreover, it was not death that took Stevie from her.\nIt was Mr Verloc who took him away. She had seen him", "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "much recognition to Stevie as a man not\nparticularly fond of animals may give to his wife’s beloved cat; and this\nrecognition, benevolent and perfunctory, was essentially of the same\nquality. Both women admitted to themselves that not much more could be\nreasonably expected. It was enough to earn for Mr Verloc the old woman’s\nreverential gratitude. In the early days, made sceptical by the trials\nof friendless life, she used sometimes to ask anxiously: “You don’t", ", Stevie. Stop that green ’bus.”\n\nAnd Stevie, tremulous and important with his sister Winnie on his arm,\nflung up the other high above his head at the approaching ’bus, with\ncomplete success.\n\nAn hour afterwards Mr Verloc raised his eyes from a newspaper he was\nreading, or at any rate looking at, behind the counter, and in the\nexpiring clatter of the door-bell beheld Winnie, his wife, enter and\ncross the shop on her way upstairs, followed by Ste", "€™s goodness. It was an\nunderstandable sorrow. And Stevie himself was sorry. He was very sorry.\nThe same sort of sorrow. And his attention being drawn to this\nunpleasant state, Stevie shuffled his feet. His feelings were habitually\nmanifested by the agitation of his limbs.\n\n“Keep your feet quiet, dear,” said Mrs Verloc, with authority and\ntenderness; then turning towards her husband in an indifferent voice, the\nmasterly achievement of instinctive tact", "loc’s mother was\nsubtle in her way), that Stevie’s moral claim would be strengthened. The\npoor boy—a good, useful boy, if a little peculiar—had not a sufficient\nstanding. He had been taken over with his mother, somewhat in the same\nway as the furniture of the Belgravian mansion had been taken over, as if\non the ground of belonging to her exclusively. What will happen, she\nasked herself (for Mrs Verloc’s mother was in a measure imaginative),", "€\n\n“Yes; I did,” answered Mrs Verloc conscientiously. “That poor boy is in\na very excited state to-night,” she murmured, after a pause which lasted\nfor three ticks of the clock.\n\nMr Verloc cared nothing for Stevie’s excitement, but he felt horribly\nwakeful, and dreaded facing the darkness and silence that would follow\nthe extinguishing of the lamp. This dread led him to make the remark\nthat Stevie had disregarded his", "the similarity of wearing apparel, Mrs\nVerloc gave rein to her fancy.\n\n“Might be father and son,” she said to herself. She thought also that Mr\nVerloc was as much of a father as poor Stevie ever had in his life. She\nwas aware also that it was her work. And with peaceful pride she\ncongratulated herself on a certain resolution she had taken a few years\nbefore. It had cost her some effort, and even a few tears.\n\nShe congratulated herself still more on observing in", "gentlemen lodgers, Mrs Verloc’s mother had acquired\na dismal but resigned notion of the fantastic side of human nature. What\nif Mr Verloc suddenly took it into his head to tell Stevie to take his\nblessed sticks somewhere out of that? A division, on the other hand,\nhowever carefully made, might give some cause of offence to Winnie. No,\nStevie must remain destitute and dependent. And at the moment of leaving\nBrett Street she had said to her daughter: “No use waiting till I am" ], [ "wreathed in smiles, because he was\nwitty, but his eyes remained serious, like the eyes of convinced man.\n\n“Well, he tried to at least,” amended the lady.\n\n“Force of habit perhaps,” said the Assistant Commissioner, moved by an\nirresistible inspiration.\n\n“He has been threatening society with all sorts of horrors,” continued\nthe lady, whose enunciation was caressing and slow, “apropos of this\nexplosion in Greenwich Park", "€™s overflowing heart flowed into an empty place\nin his wife’s memory. Greenwich Park. A park! That’s where the boy was\nkilled. A park—smashed branches, torn leaves, gravel, bits of brotherly\nflesh and bone, all spouting up together in the manner of a firework.\nShe remembered now what she had heard, and she remembered it pictorially.\nThey had to gather him up with the shovel. Trembling all over with\nirrepressible shud", "™ll have to spoil your holiday\nfor you, though. There’s a man blown up in Greenwich Park this morning.”\n\n“How do you know?”\n\n“They have been yelling the news in the streets since two o’clock. I\nbought the paper, and just ran in here. Then I saw you sitting at this\ntable. I’ve got it in my pocket now.”\n\nHe pulled the newspaper out. It was a good-sized rosy", "the man blown to\npieces in Greenwich Park not having been identified. It was\ninconceivable on any theory that Verloc should have given her an inkling\nof his intention—whatever it was. This problem interested Comrade\nOssipon immensely. He stopped short. They had gone then along the three\nsides of Brett Place, and were near the end of Brett Street again.\n\n“How did you first come to hear of it?” he asked in a tone he tried to\nrender appropriate to the", "wondered what was up with her, why\nshe had worked herself into this state of wild excitement. He even began\nto wonder whether the hidden causes of that Greenwich Park affair did not\nlie deep in the unhappy circumstances of the Verlocs’ married life. He\nwent so far as to suspect Mr Verloc of having selected that extraordinary\nmanner of committing suicide. By Jove! that would account for the utter\ninanity and wrong-headedness of the thing. No anarchist manifestation\nwas required by the circumstances. Quite the contrary; and", "sheet, as if\nflushed by the warmth of its own convictions, which were optimistic. He\nscanned the pages rapidly.\n\n“Ah! Here it is. Bomb in Greenwich Park. There isn’t much so far.\nHalf-past eleven. Foggy morning. Effects of explosion felt as far as\nRomney Road and Park Place. Enormous hole in the ground under a tree\nfilled with smashed roots and broken branches. All round fragments of a\nman’s body blown to pieces", "escorted the other to\nthe spot, and then to have left him there to do the job single-handed.\nTaking the time those two were seen coming out of Maze Hill Station by\nthe old woman, and the time when the explosion was heard, the Chief\nInspector thought that the other man might have been actually at the\nGreenwich Park Station, ready to catch the next train up, at the moment\nhis comrade was destroying himself so thoroughly.\n\n“Very thoroughly—eh?” murmured the Assistant Commissioner from under the\nshadow of his hand.\n", "in Greenwich Park, because Mr Verloc went\nout very early that morning and did not come back till nearly dusk. She\ndid not mind being alone. She had no desire to go out. The weather was\ntoo bad, and the shop was cosier than the streets. Sitting behind the\ncounter with some sewing, she did not raise her eyes from her work when\nMr Verloc entered in the aggressive clatter of the bell. She had\nrecognised his step on the pavement outside.\n\nShe did not raise her eyes, but as Mr Verloc,", ", Stevie. Stop that green ’bus.”\n\nAnd Stevie, tremulous and important with his sister Winnie on his arm,\nflung up the other high above his head at the approaching ’bus, with\ncomplete success.\n\nAn hour afterwards Mr Verloc raised his eyes from a newspaper he was\nreading, or at any rate looking at, behind the counter, and in the\nexpiring clatter of the door-bell beheld Winnie, his wife, enter and\ncross the shop on her way upstairs, followed by Ste", "\nremarkable amount of animosity into his guarded exclamation. Mrs Verloc\ncaught at his arm with a sort of frenzy.\n\n“You guessed then he was dead,” she murmured, as if beside herself.\n“You! You guessed what I had to do. Had to!”\n\nThere were suggestions of triumph, relief, gratitude in the indefinable\ntone of these words. It engrossed the whole attention of Ossipon to the\ndetriment of mere literal sense. He", "mere suspicion of which would have been infinitely shocking\nto Mr Verloc’s idea of love, remained irresolute, as if scrupulously\naware of something wanting on her part for the formal closing of the\ntransaction.\n\nOn the sofa Mr Verloc wriggled his shoulders into perfect comfort, and\nfrom the fulness of his heart emitted a wish which was certainly as pious\nas anything likely to come from such a source.\n\n“I wish to goodness,” he growled huskily, “I had never seen Greenwich\n", "enemies, and fearlessly\nconfronted them all in a supreme satisfaction of his vanity. They stood\nperplexed before him as if before a dreadful portent. He gloated\ninwardly over the chance of this meeting affirming his superiority over\nall the multitude of mankind.\n\nIt was in reality a chance meeting. Chief Inspector Heat had had a\ndisagreeably busy day since his department received the first telegram\nfrom Greenwich a little before eleven in the morning. First of all, the\nfact of the outrage being attempted less than", "last. Of course not. It had been stopped all the time. As\na matter of fact, only three minutes had elapsed from the moment she had\ndrawn the first deep, easy breath after the blow, to this moment when Mrs\nVerloc formed the resolution to drown herself in the Thames. But Mrs\nVerloc could not believe that. She seemed to have heard or read that\nclocks and watches always stopped at the moment of murder for the undoing\nof the murderer. She did not care. “To the bridge—and", ", he’s very tired, and—well—not in the sweetest of\ntempers just now.”\n\n“It’s in connection with that Greenwich affair.”\n\n“Oh! I say! He’s very bitter against you people. But I will go and\nsee, if you insist.”\n\n“Do. That’s a good fellow,” said the Assistant Commissioner.\n\nThe unpaid secretary admired this pl", "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "backward a\nlittle.\n\n“Whatever for is it torn out like this?”\n\nThe Chief Inspector snatched across the counter the cloth out of her\nhands, and she sat heavily on the chair. He thought: identification’s\nperfect. And in that moment he had a glimpse into the whole amazing\ntruth. Verloc was the “other man.”\n\n“Mrs Verloc,” he said, “it strikes me that you know more of this bomb\naffair", "and dusting upstairs, intent\nand conscientious, as though he were playing at it; and Mrs Verloc,\nwarned in the kitchen by the clatter of the cracked bell, had merely come\nto the glazed door of the parlour, and putting the curtain aside a\nlittle, had peered into the dim shop. Seeing her husband sitting there\nshadowy and bulky, with his hat tilted far back on his head, she had at\nonce returned to her stove. An hour or more later she took the green\nbaize apron off her brother Ste", "inheritance of her\nimmemorial and obscure descent, the simple ferocity of the age of\ncaverns, and the unbalanced nervous fury of the age of bar-rooms. Mr\nVerloc, the Secret Agent, turning slightly on his side with the force of\nthe blow, expired without stirring a limb, in the muttered sound of the\nword “Don’t” by way of protest.\n\nMrs Verloc had let go the knife, and her extraordinary resemblance to her\nlate brother had faded, had become very ordinary", "“He upset you. He’s a brute,\nblurting it out like this to a woman. I made myself ill thinking how to\nbreak it to you. I sat for hours in the little parlour of Cheshire\nCheese thinking over the best way. You understand I never meant any harm\nto come to that boy.”\n\nMr Verloc, the Secret Agent, was speaking the truth. It was his marital\naffection that had received the greatest shock from the premature\nexplosion. He added:\n\n", "Inspector in an approving tone. And while Mrs\nVerloc, wavering between alarm and wonder, stared at him, he sought for\ninformation. Why have the address sewn like this inside the coat? And\nhe heard that the mangled remains he had inspected that morning with\nextreme repugnance were those of a youth, nervous, absent-minded,\npeculiar, and also that the woman who was speaking to him had had the\ncharge of that boy since he was a baby.\n\n“Easily excitable?” he suggested" ], [ "step. “I thought so,” Mrs Verloc murmured\nfaintly.\n\n“You’ve read it in my eyes,” suggested Ossipon with great assurance.\n\n“Yes,” she breathed out into his inclined ear.\n\n“A love like mine could not be concealed from a woman like you,” he went\non, trying to detach his mind from material considerations such as the\nbusiness value of the shop, and the amount of money Mr Verloc might have", "not afraid of\nstrange women, and no feeling of false delicacy could prevent him from\nstriking an acquaintance with a woman apparently very much intoxicated.\nComrade Ossipon was interested in women. He held up this one between his\ntwo large palms, peering at her in a business-like way till he heard her\nsay faintly “Mr Ossipon!” and then he very nearly let her drop to the\nground.\n\n“Mrs Verloc!” he exclaimed. “", "s that what’s made me timid. You\nseemed to love him. I was surprised—and jealous,” he added.\n\n“Love him!” Mrs Verloc cried out in a whisper, full of scorn and rage.\n“Love him! I was a good wife to him. I am a respectable woman. You\nthought I loved him! You did! Look here, Tom—”\n\nThe sound of this name thrilled Comrade Ossipon with", ". I daresay you could not\nhelp seeing it in my eyes. But I could not guess it. You were always so\ndistant. . . .”\n\n“What else did you expect?” burst out Mrs Verloc. “I was a respectable\nwoman—”\n\nShe paused, then added, as if speaking to herself, in sinister\nresentment: “Till he made me what I am.”\n\nOssipon let that pass, and took up his running", "You here!”\n\nIt seemed impossible to him that she should have been drinking. But one\nnever knows. He did not go into that question, but attentive not to\ndiscourage kind fate surrendering to him the widow of Comrade Verloc, he\ntried to draw her to his breast. To his astonishment she came quite\neasily, and even rested on his arm for a moment before she attempted to\ndisengage herself. Comrade Ossipon would not be brusque with kind fate.\nHe withdrew his", "loverlike and\nhomeless aspect in the miserable night.\n\n“What would you say if I were to tell you that I was going to find you?”\nMrs Verloc asked, gripping his arm with force.\n\n“I would say that you couldn’t find anyone more ready to help you in your\ntrouble,” answered Ossipon, with a notion of making tremendous headway.\nIn fact, the progress of this delicate affair was almost taking his\nbreath away.\n\n“In my trouble!â€", "€™t the way,” he protested.\n\nMrs Verloc, having hooked her arm into his, was trying to drag him into\nBrett Street again.\n\n“I’ve forgotten to shut the shop door as I went out,” she whispered,\nterribly agitated.\n\nThe shop and all that was in it had ceased to interest Comrade Ossipon.\nHe knew how to limit his desires. He was on the point of saying “What of\nthat? Let it be,”", "voice, but with an appearance of\nmasterful calmness which filled Mrs Verloc’s heart with grateful\nconfidence in his protecting strength.\n\n“Yes,” she whispered, invisible.\n\n“I wouldn’t have believed it possible,” he muttered. “Nobody would.”\nShe heard him move about and the snapping of a lock in the parlour door.\nComrade Ossipon had turned the key on Mr Verloc’s repose; and this he did\nnot", "most rapt, which to Mrs Verloc, flying from the gallows, seemed to be\nfull of force and tenderness. This devotion deeply moved her—and the\nadamantine face lost the stern rigidity of its terror. Comrade Ossipon\ngazed at it as no lover ever gazed at his mistress’s face. Alexander\nOssipon, anarchist, nicknamed the Doctor, author of a medical (and\nimproper) pamphlet, late lecturer on the social aspects of hygiene to\nworking men", "\nremarkable amount of animosity into his guarded exclamation. Mrs Verloc\ncaught at his arm with a sort of frenzy.\n\n“You guessed then he was dead,” she murmured, as if beside herself.\n“You! You guessed what I had to do. Had to!”\n\nThere were suggestions of triumph, relief, gratitude in the indefinable\ntone of these words. It engrossed the whole attention of Ossipon to the\ndetriment of mere literal sense. He", "murdered for mysterious reasons by the couple Verloc\npassed not so much across his mind as across the pit of his stomach, and\nwent out, leaving behind a trail of sickly faintness—an indisposition.\nComrade Ossipon did not feel very well in a very special way for a\nmoment—a long moment. And he stared. Mr Verloc lay very still\nmeanwhile, simulating sleep for reasons of his own, while that savage\nwoman of his was guarding the door—invisible and silent in the dark and\ndes", " Mrs Verloc repeated slowly.\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“And do you know what my trouble is?” she whispered with strange\nintensity.\n\n“Ten minutes after seeing the evening paper,” explained Ossipon with\nardour, “I met a fellow whom you may have seen once or twice at the shop\nperhaps, and I had a talk with him which left no doubt whatever in my\nmind. Then I started for here, wondering whether you—I’ve been fond of", "\nyou beyond words ever since I set eyes on your face,” he cried, as if\nunable to command his feelings.\n\nComrade Ossipon assumed correctly that no woman was capable of wholly\ndisbelieving such a statement. But he did not know that Mrs Verloc\naccepted it with all the fierceness the instinct of self-preservation\nputs into the grip of a drowning person. To the widow of Mr Verloc the\nrobust anarchist was like a radiant messenger of life.\n\nThey walked slowly, in", ". “He never did seem to me\nto be quite worthy of you,” he began, throwing loyalty to the winds.\n“You were worthy of a better fate.”\n\nMrs Verloc interrupted bitterly:\n\n“Better fate! He cheated me out of seven years of life.”\n\n“You seemed to live so happily with him.” Ossipon tried to exculpate the\nlukewarmness of his past conduct. “It’", "back was straight, and Comrade Ossipon looked after it\nin terror before making a start himself.\n\nThe train was drawn up, with hardly anybody about its row of open doors.\nOwing to the time of the year and to the abominable weather there were\nhardly any passengers. Mrs Verloc walked slowly along the line of empty\ncompartments till Ossipon touched her elbow from behind.\n\n“In here.”\n\nShe got in, and he remained on the platform looking about. She bent\nforward, and in a whisper:", "had never responded to his glances by the\nslightest sign of encouragement. Besides, he thought the shop might be\nwatched by the police, and Comrade Ossipon did not wish the police to\nform an exaggerated notion of his revolutionary sympathies. Even now he\ndid not know precisely what to do. In comparison with his usual amatory\nspeculations this was a big and serious undertaking. He ignored how much\nthere was in it and how far he would have to go in order to get hold of\nwhat there was to get—supposing", "™s the good of\ntalking like that?”\n\nThere was a note of indignant scorn in her voice. Mr Verloc was fully\nresponsive now.\n\n“Ask Karl Yundt,” he growled savagely.\n\nMrs Verloc, with great decision, pronounced Karl Yundt “a disgusting old\nman.” She declared openly her affection for Michaelis. Of the robust\nOssipon, in whose presence she always felt uneasy behind an attitude of\nstony reserve", "not to hear. “You were coming to the shop?” she said\nnervously.\n\n“Yes; at once,” answered Ossipon. “Directly I read the paper.”\n\nIn fact, Comrade Ossipon had been skulking for a good two hours in the\nneighbourhood of Brett Street, unable to make up his mind for a bold\nmove. The robust anarchist was not exactly a bold conqueror. He\nremembered that Mrs Verloc", "optimism. At\nthat precise moment Mrs Verloc began to look upon herself as released\nfrom all earthly ties.\n\nShe had her freedom. Her contract with existence, as represented by that\nman standing over there, was at an end. She was a free woman. Had this\nview become in some way perceptible to Mr Verloc he would have been\nextremely shocked. In his affairs of the heart Mr Verloc had been always\ncarelessly generous, yet always with no other idea than that of being\nloved for himself. Upon this matter, his ethical", "Verloc was as\nwell aware of that as any other revolutionist of his standing. What an\nimmense joke if Verloc had simply made fools of the whole of Europe, of\nthe revolutionary world, of the police, of the press, and of the cocksure\nProfessor as well. Indeed, thought Ossipon, in astonishment, it seemed\nalmost certain that he did! Poor beggar! It struck him as very possible\nthat of that household of two it wasn’t precisely the man who was the\ndevil.\n\nAlex" ], [ "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "vie was dead the bond seemed to be broken. She could not face\nthe old woman with the horrible tale. Moreover, it was too far. The\nriver was her present destination. Mrs Verloc tried to forget her\nmother.\n\nEach step cost her an effort of will which seemed the last possible. Mrs\nVerloc had dragged herself past the red glow of the eating-house window.\n“To the bridge—and over I go,” she repeated to herself with fierce\nobstinacy. She put out her hand just in time to", "inheritance of her\nimmemorial and obscure descent, the simple ferocity of the age of\ncaverns, and the unbalanced nervous fury of the age of bar-rooms. Mr\nVerloc, the Secret Agent, turning slightly on his side with the force of\nthe blow, expired without stirring a limb, in the muttered sound of the\nword “Don’t” by way of protest.\n\nMrs Verloc had let go the knife, and her extraordinary resemblance to her\nlate brother had faded, had become very ordinary", "last. Of course not. It had been stopped all the time. As\na matter of fact, only three minutes had elapsed from the moment she had\ndrawn the first deep, easy breath after the blow, to this moment when Mrs\nVerloc formed the resolution to drown herself in the Thames. But Mrs\nVerloc could not believe that. She seemed to have heard or read that\nclocks and watches always stopped at the moment of murder for the undoing\nof the murderer. She did not care. “To the bridge—and", "ders, she saw before her the very implement with its\nghastly load scraped up from the ground. Mrs Verloc closed her eyes\ndesperately, throwing upon that vision the night of her eyelids, where\nafter a rainlike fall of mangled limbs the decapitated head of Stevie\nlingered suspended alone, and fading out slowly like the last star of a\npyrotechnic display. Mrs Verloc opened her eyes.\n\nHer face was no longer stony. Anybody could have noted the subtle change\non her features, in the stare of", ". She had watched\nhim, without raising a hand, take the boy away. And she had let him go,\nlike—like a fool—a blind fool. Then after he had murdered the boy he\ncame home to her. Just came home like any other man would come home to\nhis wife. . . .\n\nThrough her set teeth Mrs Verloc muttered at the wall:\n\n“And I thought he had caught a cold.”\n\nMr Verloc heard these words and appropriated them.\n\n“It was", "She had become a free woman with a perfection of freedom which left her\nnothing to desire and absolutely nothing to do, since Stevie’s urgent\nclaim on her devotion no longer existed. Mrs Verloc, who thought in\nimages, was not troubled now by visions, because she did not think at\nall. And she did not move. She was a woman enjoying her complete\nirresponsibility and endless leisure, almost in the manner of a corpse.\nShe did not move, she did not think. Neither did the mortal envelope of\nthe late", "Unexpectedly Mrs Verloc had desecrated the\nunbroken reserved decency of her home by a shrill and terrible shriek.\n\n“Help, Tom! Save me. I won’t be hanged!”\n\nHe rushed forward, groping for her mouth with a silencing hand, and the\nshriek died out. But in his rush he had knocked her over. He felt her\nnow clinging round his legs, and his terror reached its culminating\npoint, became a sort of intoxication, entert", "\n\nHer hands shook so that she failed twice in the task of refastening her\nveil. Mrs Verloc was no longer a person of leisure and responsibility.\nShe was afraid. The stabbing of Mr Verloc had been only a blow. It had\nrelieved the pent-up agony of shrieks strangled in her throat, of tears\ndried up in her hot eyes, of the maddening and indignant rage at the\natrocious part played by that man, who was less than nothing now, in\nrobbing her of the boy.", ". Victim of her marriage with\na debauched joiner, she was oppressed by the needs of many infant\nchildren. Red-armed, and aproned in coarse sacking up to the arm-pits,\nshe exhaled the anguish of the poor in a breath of soap-suds and rum, in\nthe uproar of scrubbing, in the clatter of tin pails.\n\nMrs Verloc, full of deep purpose, spoke in the tone of the shallowest\nindifference.\n\n“There is no need to have the", "dilated she stared at the vision of her husband and poor Stevie\nwalking up Brett Street side by side away from the shop. It was the last\nscene of an existence created by Mrs Verloc’s genius; an existence\nforeign to all grace and charm, without beauty and almost without\ndecency, but admirable in the continuity of feeling and tenacity of\npurpose. And this last vision had such plastic relief, such nearness of\nform, such a fidelity of suggestive detail, that it wrung from Mrs Verloc\nan anguished", "\n\nIt had been an obscurely prompted blow. The blood trickling on the floor\noff the handle of the knife had turned it into an extremely plain case of\nmurder. Mrs Verloc, who always refrained from looking deep into things,\nwas compelled to look into the very bottom of this thing. She saw there\nno haunting face, no reproachful shade, no vision of remorse, no sort of\nideal conception. She saw there an object. That object was the gallows.\nMrs Verloc was afraid of the gall", "astly struggle with that\narmed lunatic. They were leisurely enough for Mr Verloc to elaborate a\nplan of defence involving a dash behind the table, and the felling of the\nwoman to the ground with a heavy wooden chair. But they were not\nleisurely enough to allow Mr Verloc the time to move either hand or foot.\nThe knife was already planted in his breast. It met no resistance on its\nway. Hazard has such accuracies. Into that plunging blow, delivered\nover the side of the couch, Mrs Verloc had put all the", "her eyes, giving her a new and startling\nexpression; an expression seldom observed by competent persons under the\nconditions of leisure and security demanded for thorough analysis, but\nwhose meaning could not be mistaken at a glance. Mrs Verloc’s doubts as\nto the end of the bargain no longer existed; her wits, no longer\ndisconnected, were working under the control of her will. But Mr Verloc\nobserved nothing. He was reposing in that pathetic condition of optimism\ninduced by excess of fatigue. He did not want any", "An immense load of weariness, the harvest of a day of shocks\nand surprises, weighed Mr Verloc’s energies to the ground.\n\nHe did not raise his eyes till he heard his wife descending the stairs.\nIt was as he had guessed. She was dressed for going out.\n\nMrs Verloc was a free woman. She had thrown open the window of the\nbedroom either with the intention of screaming Murder! Help! or of\nthrowing herself out. For she did not exactly know what use to make of\nher freedom. ", "\ndead, is there? Everything I leave here is altogether your own now, my\ndear.”\n\nWinnie, with her hat on, silent behind her mother’s back, went on\narranging the collar of the old woman’s cloak. She got her hand-bag, an\numbrella, with an impassive face. The time had come for the expenditure\nof the sum of three-and-sixpence on what might well be supposed the last\ncab drive of Mrs Verloc’s motherâ", ".\n\n“The drop given was fourteen feet.”\n\nShe pushed the lamp-post away from her violently, and found herself\nwalking. But another wave of faintness overtook her like a great sea,\nwashing away her heart clean out of her breast. “I will never get\nthere,” she muttered, suddenly arrested, swaying lightly where she stood.\n“Never.”\n\nAnd perceiving the utter impossibility of walking as far as the nearest\nbridge, Mrs Verloc thought of a", "\n\nWith a sudden snatch at her skirts and a faint shriek she ran to the\ndoor, as if the trickle had been the first sign of a destroying flood.\nFinding the table in her way she gave it a push with both hands as though\nit had been alive, with such force that it went for some distance on its\nfour legs, making a loud, scraping racket, whilst the big dish with the\njoint crashed heavily on the floor.\n\nThen all became still. Mrs Verloc on reaching the door had stopped. A\nround hat disclosed in the", "threatening her with the end of the\nworld, said:\n\n“The idea!”\n\nMr Verloc declared himself sick and tired of everything, and besides—She\ninterrupted him.\n\n“You’ve a bad cold.”\n\nIt was indeed obvious that Mr Verloc was not in his usual state,\nphysically and even mentally. A sombre irresolution held him silent for\na while. Then he murmured a few ominous generalities on the theme of\nnecessity.\n\n“Will", "before his\nwife’s mind. He repeated that he had no intention to let the\nrevolutionists do away with him.\n\nHe looked straight into his wife’s eyes. The enlarged pupils of the\nwoman received his stare into their unfathomable depths.\n\n“I am too fond of you for that,” he said, with a little nervous laugh.\n\nA faint flush coloured Mrs Verloc’s ghastly and motionless face. Having\ndone with the visions of the past" ], [ "came\nto the ground with gloomy frankness.\n\n“I’ve brought away an address,” he said, pulling out of his pocket\nwithout haste a singed rag of dark blue cloth. “This belongs to the\novercoat the fellow who got himself blown to pieces was wearing. Of\ncourse, the overcoat may not have been his, and may even have been\nstolen. But that’s not at all probable if you look at this.”\n\nThe Chief Inspector, stepping up to the", "sheet, as if\nflushed by the warmth of its own convictions, which were optimistic. He\nscanned the pages rapidly.\n\n“Ah! Here it is. Bomb in Greenwich Park. There isn’t much so far.\nHalf-past eleven. Foggy morning. Effects of explosion felt as far as\nRomney Road and Park Place. Enormous hole in the ground under a tree\nfilled with smashed roots and broken branches. All round fragments of a\nman’s body blown to pieces", "the inner breast pocket of his\njacket. His clothes, of a nondescript brown mixture, were threadbare and\nmarked with stains, dusty in the folds, with ragged button-holes. “The\ndetonator is partly mechanical, partly chemical,” he explained, with\ncasual condescension.\n\n“It is instantaneous, of course?” murmured Ossipon, with a slight\nshudder.\n\n“Far from it,” confessed the other, with", "Inspector in an approving tone. And while Mrs\nVerloc, wavering between alarm and wonder, stared at him, he sought for\ninformation. Why have the address sewn like this inside the coat? And\nhe heard that the mangled remains he had inspected that morning with\nextreme repugnance were those of a youth, nervous, absent-minded,\npeculiar, and also that the woman who was speaking to him had had the\ncharge of that boy since he was a baby.\n\n“Easily excitable?” he suggested", "light. His face, averted from the room, expressed a startled intense\ninterest while he examined closely the triangular piece of broad-cloth.\nBy a sudden jerk he detached it, and _only_ after stuffing it into his\npocket turned round to the room, and flung the velvet collar back on the\ntable—\n\n“Cover up,” he directed the attendants curtly, without another look, and,\nsaluted by the constable, carried off his spoil hastily.\n\nA convenient train whirled", " That, however,\nappeared impossible. The first term of the problem was unreadable—lacked\nall suggestion but that of atrocious cruelty.\n\nOvercoming his physical repugnance, Chief Inspector Heat stretched out\nhis hand without conviction for the salving of his conscience, and took\nup the least soiled of the rags. It was a narrow strip of velvet with a\nlarger triangular piece of dark blue cloth hanging from it. He held it\nup to his eyes; and the police constable spoke.\n\n“", "another man\nturned down the corners of the cloth, and stepped aside. The Chief\nInspector’s eyes searched the gruesome detail of that heap of mixed\nthings, which seemed to have been collected in shambles and rag shops.\n\n“You used a shovel,” he remarked, observing a sprinkling of small gravel,\ntiny brown bits of bark, and particles of splintered wood as fine as\nneedles.\n\n“Had to in one place,” said the stolid constable. ", "pping the extra\nspecial on to the counter, he plunged his hand again into his pocket, and\npulling out the piece of cloth fate had presented him with out of a heap\nof things that seemed to have been collected in shambles and rag shops,\nhe offered it to Mrs Verloc for inspection.\n\n“I suppose you recognise this?”\n\nShe took it mechanically in both her hands. Her eyes seemed to grow\nbigger as she looked.\n\n“Yes,” she whispered, then raised her head, and staggered", "\nstopped short, amazed and concerned. Striking a match on the box she\nheld in her hand, she turned on and lighted, above the parlour table, one\nof the two gas-burners, which, being defective, first whistled as if\nastonished, and then went on purring comfortably like a cat.\n\nMr Verloc, against his usual practice, had thrown off his overcoat. It\nwas lying on the sofa. His hat, which he must also have thrown off,\nrested overturned under the edge of the", "table, smoothed out carefully the\nrag of blue cloth. He had picked it up from the repulsive heap in the\nmortuary, because a tailor’s name is found sometimes under the collar.\nIt is not often of much use, but still—He only half expected to find\nanything useful, but certainly he did not expect to find—not under the\ncollar at all, but stitched carefully on the under side of the lapel—a\nsquare piece of calico with an address written on it in marking ink.\n", "has destroyed himself by an accident,\nobviously. Not an extraordinary accident. But an extraordinary little\nfact remains: the address on his clothing discovered by the merest\naccident, too. It is an incredible little fact, so incredible that the\nexplanation which will account for it is bound to touch the bottom of\nthis affair. Instead of instructing Heat to go on with this case, my\nintention is to seek this explanation personally—by myself, I mean—where\nit may be picked up. That is in a certain shop in Brett Street,", "dress and with a chain round his neck, glanced\nup from the newspaper he was holding spread out in both hands before his\ncalm and severe face. He didn’t move; but another lackey, in brown\ntrousers and claw-hammer coat edged with thin yellow cord, approaching Mr\nVerloc listened to the murmur of his name, and turning round on his heel\nin silence, began to walk, without looking back once. Mr Verloc, thus\nled along a ground-floor passage to the left of the great carpeted\nstaircase, was", "“Here!” said Mr Verloc, giving a slight kick to the gladstone bag on the\nfloor; and Stevie flung himself upon it, seized it, bore it off with\ntriumphant devotion. He was so prompt that Mr Verloc was distinctly\nsurprised.\n\nAlready at the clatter of the shop bell Mrs Neale, blackleading the\nparlour grate, had looked through the door, and rising from her knees had\ngone, aproned, and grimy with everlasting toil, to tell Mrs Verloc", "€ he remarked, setting it down again. “As I said, it’s\nstrange. Because the overcoat has got a label sewn on the inside with\nyour address written in marking ink.”\n\nMrs Verloc leaned over the counter with a low exclamation.\n\n“That’s my brother’s, then.”\n\n“Where’s your brother? Can I see him?” asked the Chief Inspector\nbriskly. Mrs", "backward a\nlittle.\n\n“Whatever for is it torn out like this?”\n\nThe Chief Inspector snatched across the counter the cloth out of her\nhands, and she sat heavily on the chair. He thought: identification’s\nperfect. And in that moment he had a glimpse into the whole amazing\ntruth. Verloc was the “other man.”\n\n“Mrs Verloc,” he said, “it strikes me that you know more of this bomb\naffair", "nodded. “That will do.” And sitting still, with his hat pushed off\nhis forehead, he thought that it was just like Heat’s confounded cheek to\ncarry off quietly the only piece of material evidence. But he thought\nthis without animosity. Old and valued servants will take liberties.\nThe piece of overcoat with the address sewn on was certainly not a thing\nto leave about. Dismissing from his mind this manifestation of Chief\nInspector Heat’s mistrust, he wrote and despat", "they had to fetch a shovel\nto gather him up with.”\n\nMrs Verloc sprang up suddenly from her crouching position, and stopping\nher ears, reeled to and fro between the counter and the shelves on the\nwall towards the chair. Her crazed eyes noted the sporting sheet left by\nthe Chief Inspector, and as she knocked herself against the counter she\nsnatched it up, fell into the chair, tore the optimistic, rosy sheet\nright across in trying to open it, then flung it on the floor. On the", "wreathed in smiles, because he was\nwitty, but his eyes remained serious, like the eyes of convinced man.\n\n“Well, he tried to at least,” amended the lady.\n\n“Force of habit perhaps,” said the Assistant Commissioner, moved by an\nirresistible inspiration.\n\n“He has been threatening society with all sorts of horrors,” continued\nthe lady, whose enunciation was caressing and slow, “apropos of this\nexplosion in Greenwich Park", "slight enough. Look at that foot there. I picked up the legs\nfirst, one after another. He was that scattered you didn’t know where to\nbegin.”\n\nThe constable paused; the least flicker of an innocent self-laudatory\nsmile invested his round face with an infantile expression.\n\n“Stumbled,” he announced positively. “I stumbled once myself, and\npitched on my head too, while running up. Them roots do stick out all\nabout the place. ", ", the husband of a woman, and the murderer of her\nStevie. And now he was of no account in every respect. He was of less\npractical account than the clothing on his body, than his overcoat, than\nhis boots—than that hat lying on the floor. He was nothing. He was not\nworth looking at. He was even no longer the murderer of poor Stevie.\nThe only murderer that would be found in the room when people came to\nlook for Mr Verloc would be—herself!" ], [ "shortly, staring straight before her.\n\nAnd the cab jolted in front of a steamy, greasy shop in a blaze of gas\nand in the smell of fried fish.\n\nThe old woman raised a wail again.\n\n“And, my dear, I must see that poor boy every Sunday. He won’t mind\nspending the day with his old mother—”\n\nWinnie screamed out stolidly:\n\n“Mind! I should think not. That poor boy will miss you something cruel", "dazed the two women. What had happened? They sat\nmotionless and scared in the profound stillness, till the door came open,\nand a rough, strained whispering was heard:\n\n“Here you are!”\n\nA range of gabled little houses, each with one dim yellow window, on the\nground floor, surrounded the dark open space of a grass plot planted with\nshrubs and railed off from the patchwork of lights and shadows in the\nwide road, resounding with the dull rumble of traffic. Before the door\n", "seem of much account either. With their\nhands plunged deep in the side pockets of their coats, they dodged in\nsideways, one shoulder first, as if afraid to start the bell going.\n\nThe bell, hung on the door by means of a curved ribbon of steel, was\ndifficult to circumvent. It was hopelessly cracked; but of an evening,\nat the slightest provocation, it clattered behind the customer with\nimpudent virulence.\n\nIt clattered; and at that signal, through the dusty glass door behind", "€™s stare\nhad grown hard, intent, inventive.\n\n“I can’t bring him to you myself every week,” she cried. “But don’t you\nworry, mother. I’ll see to it that he don’t get lost for long.”\n\nThey felt a peculiar bump; a vision of brick pillars lingered before the\nrattling windows of the cab; a sudden cessation of atrocious jolting and\nuproarious jingling", "front of the big turning wheel, and spoke\nup through the little trap door almost before the man gazing supinely\nahead from his perch was aware of having been boarded by a fare.\n\nIt was not a long drive. It ended by signal abruptly, nowhere in\nparticular, between two lamp-posts before a large drapery establishment—a\nlong range of shops already lapped up in sheets of corrugated iron for\nthe night. Tendering a coin through the trap door the fare slipped out\nand away, leaving an effect of uncanny, eccentric g", "€™s overflowing heart flowed into an empty place\nin his wife’s memory. Greenwich Park. A park! That’s where the boy was\nkilled. A park—smashed branches, torn leaves, gravel, bits of brotherly\nflesh and bone, all spouting up together in the manner of a firework.\nShe remembered now what she had heard, and she remembered it pictorially.\nThey had to gather him up with the shovel. Trembling all over with\nirrepressible shud", ".\n\nBrett Street was not very far away. It branched off, narrow, from the\nside of an open triangular space surrounded by dark and mysterious\nhouses, temples of petty commerce emptied of traders for the night. Only\na fruiterer’s stall at the corner made a violent blaze of light and\ncolour. Beyond all was black, and the few people passing in that\ndirection vanished at one stride beyond the glowing heaps of oranges and\nlemons. No footsteps echoed. They would never be heard", "placidity of an experienced wife, expressed a\nconfident opinion as to the cause, and suggested the usual remedies; but\nher husband, rooted in the middle of the room, shook his lowered head\nsadly.\n\n“You’ll catch cold standing there,” she observed.\n\nMr Verloc made an effort, finished undressing, and got into bed. Down\nbelow in the quiet, narrow street measured footsteps approached the\nhouse, then died away unhurried and firm, as if the passer-by had started\nto", "” she asked.\n\n“Nowhere,” answered Mr Verloc in a low, choked nasal tone. His attitude\nsuggested aggrieved sulks or a severe headache. The unsufficiency and\nuncandidness of his answer became painfully apparent in the dead silence\nof the room. He snuffled apologetically, and added: “I’ve been to the\nbank.”\n\nMrs Verloc became attentive.\n\n“You have!” she said", "lonely gas-jet, then up a flight\nof winding stairs, and through a glazed and cheerful corridor on the\nfirst floor. The footman threw open a door, and stood aside. The feet\nof Mr Verloc felt a thick carpet. The room was large, with three\nwindows; and a young man with a shaven, big face, sitting in a roomy\narm-chair before a vast mahogany writing-table, said in French to the\nChancelier d’Ambassade, who was going out with the papers in his hand:", "€œDid you walk down here?”\n\n“No; omnibus,” the little man answered readily enough. He lived far away\nin Islington, in a small house down a shabby street, littered with straw\nand dirty paper, where out of school hours a troop of assorted children\nran and squabbled with a shrill, joyless, rowdy clamour. His single back\nroom, remarkable for having an extremely large cupboard, he rented\nfurnished from two elderly spinsters, dressmakers in", "ing himself of his clothing with the unnoticing\ninward concentration of a man undressing in the solitude of a vast and\nhopeless desert. For thus inhospitably did this fair earth, our common\ninheritance, present itself to the mental vision of Mr Verloc. All was\nso still without and within that the lonely ticking of the clock on the\nlanding stole into the room as if for the sake of company.\n\nMr Verloc, getting into bed on his own side, remained prone and mute\nbehind Mrs Verloc’s back.", "ation\naway from the light into the obscurity of the open space bordered dimly\nby the pointed roofs and the feebly shining windows of the little\nalms-houses. The plaint of the gravel travelled slowly all round the\ndrive. Between the lamps of the charitable gateway the slow cortege\nreappeared, lighted up for a moment, the short, thick man limping busily,\nwith the horse’s head held aloft in his fist, the lank animal walking in\nstiff and forlorn dignity, the", "the chair. Startled to feel her so helplessly limp,\nhe was trying to put her back on the chair when she stiffened suddenly\nall over, tore herself out of his hands, ran out of the shop, across the\nparlour, and into the kitchen. This was very swift. He had just a\nglimpse of her face and that much of her eyes that he knew she had not\nlooked at him.\n\nIt all had the appearance of a struggle for the possession of a chair,\nbecause Mr Verloc instantly took his wife’s place in", "By a\ngreat effort he suppressed the rattling of his teeth.\n\n“I’ll have you laid up on my hands,” she said, with genuine uneasiness.\n\n“I don’t think so,” remarked Mr Verloc, snuffling huskily.\n\nHe had certainly contrived somehow to catch an abominable cold between\nseven in the morning and five in the afternoon. Mrs Verloc looked at his\nbowed back.\n\n“Where have you been to-day?", "jingling of glass, as if\nabout to collapse behind the cab; and the infirm horse, with the harness\nhung over his sharp backbone flapping very loose about his thighs,\nappeared to be dancing mincingly on his toes with infinite patience.\nLater on, in the wider space of Whitehall, all visual evidences of motion\nbecame imperceptible. The rattle and jingle of glass went on\nindefinitely in front of the long Treasury building—and time itself\nseemed to stand still.\n\nAt last Winnie", "™t whip,” queried the other in a thoughtful whisper, and\nimmediately whipped. He did this, not because his soul was cruel and his\nheart evil, but because he had to earn his fare. And for a time the\nwalls of St Stephen’s, with its towers and pinnacles, contemplated in\nimmobility and silence a cab that jingled. It rolled too, however. But\non the bridge there was a commotion. Stevie suddenly proceeded to get\ndown from the box.", "pace out all eternity, from gas-lamp to gas-lamp in a night without\nend; and the drowsy ticking of the old clock on the landing became\ndistinctly audible in the bedroom.\n\nMrs Verloc, on her back, and staring at the ceiling, made a remark.\n\n“Takings very small to-day.”\n\nMr Verloc, in the same position, cleared his throat as if for an\nimportant statement, but merely inquired:\n\n“Did you turn off the gas downstairs?â", "“Here!” said Mr Verloc, giving a slight kick to the gladstone bag on the\nfloor; and Stevie flung himself upon it, seized it, bore it off with\ntriumphant devotion. He was so prompt that Mr Verloc was distinctly\nsurprised.\n\nAlready at the clatter of the shop bell Mrs Neale, blackleading the\nparlour grate, had looked through the door, and rising from her knees had\ngone, aproned, and grimy with everlasting toil, to tell Mrs Verloc", "he did not go incontinently to impart to her that\ninformation. First of all, it was clear to him that this evening was no\ntime for business. He got up to close the street door and put the gas\nout in the shop.\n\nHaving thus assured a solitude around his hearthstone Mr Verloc walked\ninto the parlour, and glanced down into the kitchen. Mrs Verloc was\nsitting in the place where poor Stevie usually established himself of an\nevening with paper and pencil for the pastime of drawing these\ncoruscations of in" ], [ ", you note. Ergo: blew _himself_ up.\nThat spoils your day off for you—don’t it? Were you expecting that sort\nof move? I hadn’t the slightest idea—not the ghost of a notion of\nanything of the sort being planned to come off here—in this country.\nUnder the present circumstances it’s nothing short of criminal.”\n\nThe little man lifted his thin black eyebrows with dispassionate scorn.\n\n“Criminal", "to whisper to him who I\nwas and to add ‘I know that you are at the bottom of this affair.’ It\nmust have seemed miraculous to him that we should know already, but he\ntook it all in the stride. The wonderfulness of it never checked him for\na moment. There remained for me only to put to him the two questions:\nWho put you up to it? and Who was the man who did it? He answered the\nfirst with remarkable emphasis. As to the second question, I gather that\nthe fellow with the bomb", "to blow himself up? He’s gone. His troubles are over. Ours\nare just going to begin, I tell you, precisely because he did blow\nhimself. I don’t blame you. But just try to understand that it was a\npure accident; as much an accident as if he had been run over by a ’bus\nwhile crossing the street.”\n\nHis generosity was not infinite, because he was a human being—and not a\nmonster, as Mrs Verloc believed him to be. ", ",” he added in a reproving\ntone. “Did he say anything to you—give you some idea of his intentions?\nI hadn’t seen him for a month. It seems impossible that he should be\ngone.”\n\n“He told me it was going to be a demonstration against a building,” said\nthe Professor. “I had to know that much to prepare the missile. I\npointed out to him that I had hardly a sufficient quantity for a\ncom", "backward a\nlittle.\n\n“Whatever for is it torn out like this?”\n\nThe Chief Inspector snatched across the counter the cloth out of her\nhands, and she sat heavily on the chair. He thought: identification’s\nperfect. And in that moment he had a glimpse into the whole amazing\ntruth. Verloc was the “other man.”\n\n“Mrs Verloc,” he said, “it strikes me that you know more of this bomb\naffair", "™ll have to spoil your holiday\nfor you, though. There’s a man blown up in Greenwich Park this morning.”\n\n“How do you know?”\n\n“They have been yelling the news in the streets since two o’clock. I\nbought the paper, and just ran in here. Then I saw you sitting at this\ntable. I’ve got it in my pocket now.”\n\nHe pulled the newspaper out. It was a good-sized rosy", "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "offended. You know you do get yourself\nvery untidy when you get a chance, Stevie.”\n\nMr Verloc was already gone some way down the street.\n\nThus in consequence of her mother’s heroic proceedings, and of her\nbrother’s absence on this villegiature, Mrs Verloc found herself oftener\nthan usual all alone not only in the shop, but in the house. For Mr\nVerloc had to take his walks. She was alone longer than usual on the day\nof the attempted bomb outrage", "shoot down the horses and overpower the escort. Unfortunately, one of\nthe police constables got shot too. He left a wife and three small\nchildren, and the death of that man aroused through the length and\nbreadth of a realm for whose defence, welfare, and glory men die every\nday as matter of duty, an outburst of furious indignation, of a raging\nimplacable pity for the victim. Three ring-leaders got hanged.\nMichaelis, young and slim, locksmith by trade, and great frequenter of\nevening", ". That’s all. The rest’s mere newspaper gup.\nNo doubt a wicked attempt to blow up the Observatory, they say. H’m.\nThat’s hardly credible.”\n\nHe looked at the paper for a while longer in silence, then passed it to\nthe other, who after gazing abstractedly at the print laid it down\nwithout comment.\n\nIt was Ossipon who spoke first—still resentful.\n\n“The fragments of only _one_ man", "sheet, as if\nflushed by the warmth of its own convictions, which were optimistic. He\nscanned the pages rapidly.\n\n“Ah! Here it is. Bomb in Greenwich Park. There isn’t much so far.\nHalf-past eleven. Foggy morning. Effects of explosion felt as far as\nRomney Road and Park Place. Enormous hole in the ground under a tree\nfilled with smashed roots and broken branches. All round fragments of a\nman’s body blown to pieces", ", not the right time for\nmany reasons, personal and of public service. This being the strong\nfeeling of Inspector Heat, it appeared to him just and proper that this\naffair should be shunted off its obscure and inconvenient track, leading\ngoodness knows where, into a quiet (and lawful) siding called Michaelis.\nAnd he repeated, as if reconsidering the suggestion conscientiously:\n\n“The bomb. No, I would not say that exactly. We may never find that\nout. But it’s", "went on in a good-natured tone, “the\nforeign governments cannot complain of the inefficiency of our police.\nLook at this outrage; a case specially difficult to trace inasmuch as it\nwas a sham. In less than twelve hours we have established the identity\nof a man literally blown to shreds, have found the organiser of the\nattempt, and have had a glimpse of the inciter behind him. And we could\nhave gone further; only we stopped at the limits of our territory.”\n\n“So this", "himself living in abject terror in some\nobscure hamlet in Spain or Italy; till some fine morning they found him\ndead too, with a knife in his breast—like Mr Verloc. He sighed deeply.\nHe dared not move. And Mrs Verloc waited in silence the good pleasure of\nher saviour, deriving comfort from his reflective silence.\n\nSuddenly he spoke up in an almost natural voice. His reflections had\ncome to an end.\n\n“Let’s get out, or we will lose the train.â", "little on the way you look at it. But\nFate looks at nothing. It has no discretion. He no longer considered it\neminently desirable all round to establish publicly the identity of the\nman who had blown himself up that morning with such horrible\ncompleteness. But he was not certain of the view his department would\ntake. A department is to those it employs a complex personality with\nideas and even fads of its own. It depends on the loyal devotion of its\nservants, and the devoted loyalty of trusted servants is associated with", "inheritance of her\nimmemorial and obscure descent, the simple ferocity of the age of\ncaverns, and the unbalanced nervous fury of the age of bar-rooms. Mr\nVerloc, the Secret Agent, turning slightly on his side with the force of\nthe blow, expired without stirring a limb, in the muttered sound of the\nword “Don’t” by way of protest.\n\nMrs Verloc had let go the knife, and her extraordinary resemblance to her\nlate brother had faded, had become very ordinary", ", for indeed by what they could see\nof her face she seemed to them to be dying. But Comrade Ossipon knew\nthat behind that white mask of despair there was struggling against\nterror and despair a vigour of vitality, a love of life that could resist\nthe furious anguish which drives to murder and the fear, the blind, mad\nfear of the gallows. He knew. But the stewardess and the chief steward\nknew nothing, except that when they came back for her in less than five\nminutes the lady in black was no", "last. Of course not. It had been stopped all the time. As\na matter of fact, only three minutes had elapsed from the moment she had\ndrawn the first deep, easy breath after the blow, to this moment when Mrs\nVerloc formed the resolution to drown herself in the Thames. But Mrs\nVerloc could not believe that. She seemed to have heard or read that\nclocks and watches always stopped at the moment of murder for the undoing\nof the murderer. She did not care. “To the bridge—and", "in the old affair of fireworks on the\nstairs had for many years resisted entreaties, coaxing, anger, and other\nmeans of investigation used by his beloved sister. For Stevie was loyal.\n. . . “No, I can’t imagine. It’s possible that he never thought of that\nat all. It sounds an extravagant way of putting it, Sir Ethelred, but\nhis state of dismay suggested to me an impulsive man who, after\ncommitting suicide with the notion that", "the man blown to\npieces in Greenwich Park not having been identified. It was\ninconceivable on any theory that Verloc should have given her an inkling\nof his intention—whatever it was. This problem interested Comrade\nOssipon immensely. He stopped short. They had gone then along the three\nsides of Brett Place, and were near the end of Brett Street again.\n\n“How did you first come to hear of it?” he asked in a tone he tried to\nrender appropriate to the" ], [ "him over together with his\nwife’s mother and with the furniture, which was the whole visible fortune\nof the family. Mr Verloc gathered everything as it came to his broad,\ngood-natured breast. The furniture was disposed to the best advantage\nall over the house, but Mrs Verloc’s mother was confined to two back\nrooms on the first floor. The luckless Stevie slept in one of them. By\nthis time a growth of thin fluffy hair had come to blur, like a golden\nmist, the sharp line", "Mr Verloc’s kindness the longer its effects were\nlikely to last. That excellent man loved his wife, of course, but he\nwould, no doubt, prefer to keep as few of her relations as was consistent\nwith the proper display of that sentiment. It would be better if its\nwhole effect were concentrated on poor Stevie. And the heroic old woman\nresolved on going away from her children as an act of devotion and as a\nmove of deep policy.\n\nThe “virtue” of this policy consisted in this (Mrs Ver", "\nthink, my dear, that Mr Verloc is getting tired of seeing Stevie about?”\nTo this Winnie replied habitually by a slight toss of her head. Once,\nhowever, she retorted, with a rather grim pertness: “He’ll have to get\ntired of me first.” A long silence ensued. The mother, with her feet\npropped up on a stool, seemed to be trying to get to the bottom of that\nanswer, whose feminine profundity had struck her all of a", "Verloc in an awed whisper.\n\nThe Chief Inspector let out a whistle. His eyes snapped.\n\n“Just so. Capital. And your brother now, what’s he like—a sturdy,\ndarkish chap—eh?”\n\n“Oh no,” exclaimed Mrs Verloc fervently. “That must be the thief.\nStevie’s slight and fair.”\n\n“Good,” said the Chief", "to Mr Verloc, his\nintense meditation, like a sort of Chinese wall, isolated him completely\nfrom the phenomena of this world of vain effort and illusory appearances.\n\nHer selection made, the disposal of the rest became a perplexing question\nin a particular way. She was leaving it in Brett Street, of course. But\nshe had two children. Winnie was provided for by her sensible union with\nthat excellent husband, Mr Verloc. Stevie was destitute—and a little\npeculiar. His position had to be", "under her cheek and the big, dark, unwinking eyes.\n\nUnder her husband’s expressionless stare, and remembering her mother’s\nempty room across the landing, she felt an acute pang of loneliness. She\nhad never been parted from her mother before. They had stood by each\nother. She felt that they had, and she said to herself that now mother\nwas gone—gone for good. Mrs Verloc had no illusions. Stevie remained,\nhowever. And she said:\n\nâ", "\nhung over him in her anxiety that he should believe Stevie to be a useful\nmember of the family. That ardour of protecting compassion exalted\nmorbidly in her childhood by the misery of another child tinged her\nsallow cheeks with a faint dusky blush, made her big eyes gleam under the\ndark lids. Mrs Verloc then looked younger; she looked as young as Winnie\nused to look, and much more animated than the Winnie of the Belgravian\nmansion days had ever allowed herself to appear to gentlemen lod", "Stevie\nin the eyes of Mrs Verloc. She was taking it confoundedly hard, he\nthought to himself. It was all the fault of that damned Heat. What did\nhe want to upset the woman for? But she mustn’t be allowed, for her own\ngood, to carry on so till she got quite beside herself.\n\n“Look here! You can’t sit like this in the shop,” he said with affected\nseverity, in which there was some real annoyance; for urgent practical\n", "old\ngirl,” he added in a softened voice.\n\nMrs Verloc’s mind got hold of that declaration with morbid tenacity. The\nman who had taken Stevie out from under her very eyes to murder him in a\nlocality whose name was at the moment not present to her memory would not\nallow her go out. Of course he wouldn’t.\n\nNow he had murdered Stevie he would never let her go. He would want to\nkeep her for nothing. And on this characteristic reasoning, having all\nthe", "“Here!” said Mr Verloc, giving a slight kick to the gladstone bag on the\nfloor; and Stevie flung himself upon it, seized it, bore it off with\ntriumphant devotion. He was so prompt that Mr Verloc was distinctly\nsurprised.\n\nAlready at the clatter of the shop bell Mrs Neale, blackleading the\nparlour grate, had looked through the door, and rising from her knees had\ngone, aproned, and grimy with everlasting toil, to tell Mrs Verloc", "that Mrs Verloc’s mother having\nparted for good from her children had also departed this life, Winnie\nVerloc did not investigate her brother’s psychology. The poor boy was\nexcited, of course. After once more assuring the old woman on the\nthreshold that she would know how to guard against the risk of Stevie\nlosing himself for very long on his pilgrimages of filial piety, she took\nher brother’s arm to walk away. Stevie did not even mutter to himself,\nbut with", "€\n\n“Yes; I did,” answered Mrs Verloc conscientiously. “That poor boy is in\na very excited state to-night,” she murmured, after a pause which lasted\nfor three ticks of the clock.\n\nMr Verloc cared nothing for Stevie’s excitement, but he felt horribly\nwakeful, and dreaded facing the darkness and silence that would follow\nthe extinguishing of the lamp. This dread led him to make the remark\nthat Stevie had disregarded his", "were an integral part of his outdoor activities,\nwhich his wife had never looked deeply into. Mrs Verloc felt that the\nposition was delicate, but she faced it with the same impenetrable\ncalmness which impressed and even astonished the customers of the shop\nand made the other visitors keep their distance a little wonderingly.\nNo! She feared that there were things not good for Stevie to hear of,\nshe told her husband. It only excited the poor boy, because he could not\nhelp them being so. Nobody could.\n\nIt was in the shop. ", "much recognition to Stevie as a man not\nparticularly fond of animals may give to his wife’s beloved cat; and this\nrecognition, benevolent and perfunctory, was essentially of the same\nquality. Both women admitted to themselves that not much more could be\nreasonably expected. It was enough to earn for Mr Verloc the old woman’s\nreverential gratitude. In the early days, made sceptical by the trials\nof friendless life, she used sometimes to ask anxiously: “You don’t", "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "€œWhatever you do, don’t let him worry your husband, my dear.”\n\nThus they discussed on familiar lines the bearings of a new situation.\nAnd the cab jolted. Mrs Verloc’s mother expressed some misgivings.\nCould Stevie be trusted to come all that way alone? Winnie maintained\nthat he was much less “absent-minded” now. They agreed as to that. It\ncould not be denied. Much less—hardly at all.", "the course of many walks.\nLike a peripatetic philosopher, Mr Verloc, strolling along the streets of\nLondon, had modified Stevie’s view of the police by conversations full of\nsubtle reasonings. Never had a sage a more attentive and admiring\ndisciple. The submission and worship were so apparent that Mr Verloc had\ncome to feel something like a liking for the boy. In any case, he had\nnot foreseen the swift bringing home of his connection. That his wife\nshould hit upon the precaution of", "gentlemen lodgers, Mrs Verloc’s mother had acquired\na dismal but resigned notion of the fantastic side of human nature. What\nif Mr Verloc suddenly took it into his head to tell Stevie to take his\nblessed sticks somewhere out of that? A division, on the other hand,\nhowever carefully made, might give some cause of offence to Winnie. No,\nStevie must remain destitute and dependent. And at the moment of leaving\nBrett Street she had said to her daughter: “No use waiting till I am", "offended. You know you do get yourself\nvery untidy when you get a chance, Stevie.”\n\nMr Verloc was already gone some way down the street.\n\nThus in consequence of her mother’s heroic proceedings, and of her\nbrother’s absence on this villegiature, Mrs Verloc found herself oftener\nthan usual all alone not only in the shop, but in the house. For Mr\nVerloc had to take his walks. She was alone longer than usual on the day\nof the attempted bomb outrage", "€™s goodness. It was an\nunderstandable sorrow. And Stevie himself was sorry. He was very sorry.\nThe same sort of sorrow. And his attention being drawn to this\nunpleasant state, Stevie shuffled his feet. His feelings were habitually\nmanifested by the agitation of his limbs.\n\n“Keep your feet quiet, dear,” said Mrs Verloc, with authority and\ntenderness; then turning towards her husband in an indifferent voice, the\nmasterly achievement of instinctive tact" ], [ "“He upset you. He’s a brute,\nblurting it out like this to a woman. I made myself ill thinking how to\nbreak it to you. I sat for hours in the little parlour of Cheshire\nCheese thinking over the best way. You understand I never meant any harm\nto come to that boy.”\n\nMr Verloc, the Secret Agent, was speaking the truth. It was his marital\naffection that had received the greatest shock from the premature\nexplosion. He added:\n\n", "to blow himself up? He’s gone. His troubles are over. Ours\nare just going to begin, I tell you, precisely because he did blow\nhimself. I don’t blame you. But just try to understand that it was a\npure accident; as much an accident as if he had been run over by a ’bus\nwhile crossing the street.”\n\nHis generosity was not infinite, because he was a human being—and not a\nmonster, as Mrs Verloc believed him to be. ", "the man blown to\npieces in Greenwich Park not having been identified. It was\ninconceivable on any theory that Verloc should have given her an inkling\nof his intention—whatever it was. This problem interested Comrade\nOssipon immensely. He stopped short. They had gone then along the three\nsides of Brett Place, and were near the end of Brett Street again.\n\n“How did you first come to hear of it?” he asked in a tone he tried to\nrender appropriate to the", "“Here!” said Mr Verloc, giving a slight kick to the gladstone bag on the\nfloor; and Stevie flung himself upon it, seized it, bore it off with\ntriumphant devotion. He was so prompt that Mr Verloc was distinctly\nsurprised.\n\nAlready at the clatter of the shop bell Mrs Neale, blackleading the\nparlour grate, had looked through the door, and rising from her knees had\ngone, aproned, and grimy with everlasting toil, to tell Mrs Verloc", "of this man Verloc had left nothing\nin doubt—nothing whatever. He had been driven out of his mind almost by\nan extraordinary performance, which for you or me it would be difficult\nto take as seriously meant, but which produced a great impression\nobviously on him.”\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner then imparted briefly to the great man, who\nsat still, resting his eyes under the screen of his hand, Mr Verloc’s\nappreciation of Mr Vladimir’s proceedings and character. The Assistant\nCommissioner did not", " Mrs Verloc repeated slowly.\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“And do you know what my trouble is?” she whispered with strange\nintensity.\n\n“Ten minutes after seeing the evening paper,” explained Ossipon with\nardour, “I met a fellow whom you may have seen once or twice at the shop\nperhaps, and I had a talk with him which left no doubt whatever in my\nmind. Then I started for here, wondering whether you—I’ve been fond of", "\nremarkable amount of animosity into his guarded exclamation. Mrs Verloc\ncaught at his arm with a sort of frenzy.\n\n“You guessed then he was dead,” she murmured, as if beside herself.\n“You! You guessed what I had to do. Had to!”\n\nThere were suggestions of triumph, relief, gratitude in the indefinable\ntone of these words. It engrossed the whole attention of Ossipon to the\ndetriment of mere literal sense. He", "Verloc watched at her back as if he could\nread there the effect of his words.\n\n“There isn’t a murdering plot for the last eleven years that I hadn’t my\nfinger in at the risk of my life. There’s scores of these revolutionists\nI’ve sent off, with their bombs in their blamed pockets, to get\nthemselves caught on the frontier. The old Baron knew what I was worth\nto his country. And here suddenly a swine comes along—an ignorant", "went on,\nas if delivering a scientific lecture, “but they must be sufficiently\nstartling—effective. Let them be directed against buildings, for\ninstance. What is the fetish of the hour that all the bourgeoisie\nrecognise—eh, Mr Verloc?”\n\nMr Verloc opened his hands and shrugged his shoulders slightly.\n\n“You are too lazy to think,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment upon that gesture.\n“Pay attention to what I say. The fetish of", "it was a failure, if not exactly the\nsort of failure he had feared. It had been so near success that he could\nhave positively terrified Mr Vladimir out of his ferocious scoffing with\nthis proof of occult efficiency. So at least it seemed now to Mr Verloc.\nHis prestige with the Embassy would have been immense if—if his wife had\nnot had the unlucky notion of sewing on the address inside Stevie’s\novercoat. Mr Verloc, who was no fool, had soon perceived the\nextra", "hand than it would be perhaps advisable to give Chief\nInspector Heat. I haven’t the slightest wish to spare this man Verloc.\nHe will, I imagine, be extremely startled to find his connection with\nthis affair, whatever it may be, brought home to him so quickly.\nFrightening him will not be very difficult. But our true objective lies\nbehind him somewhere. I want your authority to give him such assurances\nof personal safety as I may think proper.”\n\n“Certainly,” said the", "one word—Verloc.”\n\nOssipon, whom curiosity had lifted a few inches off his seat, dropped\nback, as if hit in the face.\n\n“Verloc! Impossible.”\n\nThe self-possessed little man nodded slightly once.\n\n“Yes. He’s the person. You can’t say that in this case I was giving my\nstuff to the first fool that came along. He was a prominent member of\nthe group as far as I understand.â", "stealing the French gun designs. And you got\nyourself caught. That must have been very disagreeable to our\nGovernment. You don’t seem to be very smart.”\n\nMr Verloc tried to exculpate himself huskily.\n\n“As I’ve had occasion to observe before, a fatal infatuation for an\nunworthy—”\n\nMr Vladimir raised a large white, plump hand. “Ah, yes. The unlucky\nattachment—", "proceedings.\n\n“What did you do that for?”\n\n“May want it soon,” snuffled vaguely Mr Verloc, who was coming to the end\nof his calculated indiscretions.\n\n“I don’t know what you mean,” remarked his wife in a tone perfectly\ncasual, but standing stock still between the table and the cupboard.\n\n“You know you can trust me,” Mr Verloc remarked to the grate, with hoarse\nfeeling.\n", "wondered what was up with her, why\nshe had worked herself into this state of wild excitement. He even began\nto wonder whether the hidden causes of that Greenwich Park affair did not\nlie deep in the unhappy circumstances of the Verlocs’ married life. He\nwent so far as to suspect Mr Verloc of having selected that extraordinary\nmanner of committing suicide. By Jove! that would account for the utter\ninanity and wrong-headedness of the thing. No anarchist manifestation\nwas required by the circumstances. Quite the contrary; and", "Verloc in an awed whisper.\n\nThe Chief Inspector let out a whistle. His eyes snapped.\n\n“Just so. Capital. And your brother now, what’s he like—a sturdy,\ndarkish chap—eh?”\n\n“Oh no,” exclaimed Mrs Verloc fervently. “That must be the thief.\nStevie’s slight and fair.”\n\n“Good,” said the Chief", "likely that\nMichaelis knows nothing of it to this moment.”\n\n“You are positive as to that?” asked the great man.\n\n“Quite certain, Sir Ethelred. This fellow Verloc went there this\nmorning, and took away the lad on the pretence of going out for a walk in\nthe lanes. As it was not the first time that he did this, Michaelis\ncould not have the slightest suspicion of anything unusual. For the\nrest, Sir Ethelred, the indignation", "\n\n“Constable!” said Mr Verloc, with no more effort than if he were\nwhispering; and Mr Vladimir burst into a laugh on seeing the policeman\nspin round as if prodded by a sharp instrument. Mr Verloc shut the\nwindow quietly, and returned to the middle of the room.\n\n“With a voice like that,” he said, putting on the husky conversational\npedal, “I was naturally trusted. And I knew what to say, too.”\n\nMr Vlad", "Verloc’s genius. It had also the advantage of being within the range of\nhis powers and of adjusting itself easily to the practice of his life,\nwhich had consisted precisely in betraying the secret and unlawful\nproceedings of his fellow-men. Anarchists or diplomats were all one to\nhim. Mr Verloc was temperamentally no respecter of persons. His scorn\nwas equally distributed over the whole field of his operations. But as a\nmember of a revolutionary proletariat—which he undoubtedly was—", "Mr Verloc had gauged the depth\nof Stevie’s fanaticism. He dared cherish the hope of Stevie walking away\nfrom the walls of the Observatory as he had been instructed to do, taking\nthe way shown to him several times previously, and rejoining his\nbrother-in-law, the wise and good Mr Verloc, outside the precincts of the\npark. Fifteen minutes ought to have been enough for the veriest fool to\ndeposit the engine and walk away. And the Professor had guaranteed more\nthan" ], [ ", the husband of a woman, and the murderer of her\nStevie. And now he was of no account in every respect. He was of less\npractical account than the clothing on his body, than his overcoat, than\nhis boots—than that hat lying on the floor. He was nothing. He was not\nworth looking at. He was even no longer the murderer of poor Stevie.\nThe only murderer that would be found in the room when people came to\nlook for Mr Verloc would be—herself!", "a submissive creature. The protection she\nhad extended over her brother had been in its origin of a fierce and\nindignant complexion. She had to love him with a militant love. She had\nbattled for him—even against herself. His loss had the bitterness of\ndefeat, with the anguish of a baffled passion. It was not an ordinary\nstroke of death. Moreover, it was not death that took Stevie from her.\nIt was Mr Verloc who took him away. She had seen him", "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", "ing or persuasive eloquence. Mr Verloc never meant Stevie to\nperish with such abrupt violence. He did not mean him to perish at all.\nStevie dead was a much greater nuisance than ever he had been when alive.\nMr Verloc had augured a favourable issue to his enterprise, basing\nhimself not on Stevie’s intelligence, which sometimes plays queer tricks\nwith a man, but on the blind docility and on the blind devotion of the\nboy. Though not much of a psychologist,", "old\ngirl,” he added in a softened voice.\n\nMrs Verloc’s mind got hold of that declaration with morbid tenacity. The\nman who had taken Stevie out from under her very eyes to murder him in a\nlocality whose name was at the moment not present to her memory would not\nallow her go out. Of course he wouldn’t.\n\nNow he had murdered Stevie he would never let her go. He would want to\nkeep her for nothing. And on this characteristic reasoning, having all\nthe", "As if the homeless soul of Stevie had\nflown for shelter straight to the breast of his sister, guardian and\nprotector, the resemblance of her face with that of her brother grew at\nevery step, even to the droop of the lower lip, even to the slight\ndivergence of the eyes. But Mr Verloc did not see that. He was lying on\nhis back and staring upwards. He saw partly on the ceiling and partly on\nthe wall the moving shadow of an arm with a clenched hand holding a\ncarving knife. It flick", "was good. Nobody could help that! He came along gloomily, but presently\nhe brightened up. Like the rest of mankind, perplexed by the mystery of\nthe universe, he had his moments of consoling trust in the organised\npowers of the earth.\n\n“Police,” he suggested confidently.\n\n“The police aren’t for that,” observed Mrs Verloc cursorily, hurrying on\nher way.\n\nStevie’s face lengthened considerably", "vie ended by turning vicious. A\nmagnanimous indignation swelled his frail chest to bursting, and caused\nhis candid eyes to squint. Supremely wise in knowing his own\npowerlessness, Stevie was not wise enough to restrain his passions. The\ntenderness of his universal charity had two phases as indissolubly joined\nand connected as the reverse and obverse sides of a medal. The anguish\nof immoderate compassion was succeeded by the pain of an innocent but\npitiless rage. Those", "ould have been too cruel. And it was even possible that Stevie would\nnot have believed them. As far as Mr Verloc was concerned, nothing could\nstand in the way of Stevie’s belief. Mr Verloc was obviously yet\nmysteriously _good_. And the grief of a good man is august.\n\nStevie gave glances of reverential compassion to his brother-in-law. Mr\nVerloc was sorry. The brother of Winnie had never before felt himself in\nsuch close communion with the mystery of that manâ", "his sense of\nthe power of the men in blue. He had liked all police constables\ntenderly, with a guileless trustfulness. And he was pained. He was\nirritated, too, by a suspicion of duplicity in the members of the force.\nFor Stevie was frank and as open as the day himself. What did they mean\nby pretending then? Unlike his sister, who put her trust in face values,\nhe wished to go to the bottom of the matter. He carried on his inquiry\nby means of an angry challenge", ".\n\nThe policeman’s testimony settled it. The modest assemblage of seven\npeople, mostly under age, dispersed. Winnie followed her mother into the\ncab. Stevie climbed on the box. His vacant mouth and distressed eyes\ndepicted the state of his mind in regard to the transactions which were\ntaking place. In the narrow streets the progress of the journey was made\nsensible to those within by the near fronts of the houses gliding past\nslowly and shakily, with a great rattle and", "€\n\n“Yes; I did,” answered Mrs Verloc conscientiously. “That poor boy is in\na very excited state to-night,” she murmured, after a pause which lasted\nfor three ticks of the clock.\n\nMr Verloc cared nothing for Stevie’s excitement, but he felt horribly\nwakeful, and dreaded facing the darkness and silence that would follow\nthe extinguishing of the lamp. This dread led him to make the remark\nthat Stevie had disregarded his", "ely he dismissed the\nhypothesis of Stevie being a drunken young nipper.\n\nInside the cab the spell of silence, in which the two women had endured\nshoulder to shoulder the jolting, rattling, and jingling of the journey,\nhad been broken by Stevie’s outbreak. Winnie raised her voice.\n\n“You’ve done what you wanted, mother. You’ll have only yourself to thank\nfor it if you aren’t happy afterwards. And I", "later on\nthat Winnie obtained from him a misty and confused confession. It seems\nthat two other office-boys in the building had worked upon his feelings\nby tales of injustice and oppression till they had wrought his compassion\nto the pitch of that frenzy. But his father’s friend, of course,\ndismissed him summarily as likely to ruin his business. After that\naltruistic exploit Stevie was put to help wash the dishes in the basement\nkitchen, and to black the boots of the gentlemen patronising", "in the old affair of fireworks on the\nstairs had for many years resisted entreaties, coaxing, anger, and other\nmeans of investigation used by his beloved sister. For Stevie was loyal.\n. . . “No, I can’t imagine. It’s possible that he never thought of that\nat all. It sounds an extravagant way of putting it, Sir Ethelred, but\nhis state of dismay suggested to me an impulsive man who, after\ncommitting suicide with the notion that", "lame,” pursued the other, whispering with energy. “He ain’t\ngot no sore places on ’im. ’Ere he is. ’Ow would _you_ like—”\n\nHis strained, extinct voice invested his utterance with a character of\nvehement secrecy. Stevie’s vacant gaze was changing slowly into dread.\n\n“You may well look! Till three and four o’clock in the morning", "she was heroic and unscrupulous and full\nof love for both her children. Girls frequently get sacrificed to the\nwelfare of the boys. In this case she was sacrificing Winnie. By the\nsuppression of truth she was slandering her. Of course, Winnie was\nindependent, and need not care for the opinion of people that she would\nnever see and who would never see her; whereas poor Stevie had nothing in\nthe world he could call his own except his mother’s heroism and\nunscrupulousness.", "still too. That night she was “not quite\nherself,” as the saying is, and it was borne upon her with some force\nthat a simple sentence may hold several diverse meanings—mostly\ndisagreeable. How was it just as well? And why? But she did not allow\nherself to fall into the idleness of barren speculation. She was rather\nconfirmed in her belief that things did not stand being looked into.\nPractical and subtle in her way, she brought Stevie to", "under her cheek and the big, dark, unwinking eyes.\n\nUnder her husband’s expressionless stare, and remembering her mother’s\nempty room across the landing, she felt an acute pang of loneliness. She\nhad never been parted from her mother before. They had stood by each\nother. She felt that they had, and she said to herself that now mother\nwas gone—gone for good. Mrs Verloc had no illusions. Stevie remained,\nhowever. And she said:\n\nâ", "ordinary character of the influence he had over Stevie, though he\ndid not understand exactly its origin—the doctrine of his supreme wisdom\nand goodness inculcated by two anxious women. In all the eventualities\nhe had foreseen Mr Verloc had calculated with correct insight on Stevie’s\ninstinctive loyalty and blind discretion. The eventuality he had not\nforeseen had appalled him as a humane man and a fond husband. From every\nother point of view it was rather advantageous. Nothing can equal the\never" ], [ "Verloc’s genius. It had also the advantage of being within the range of\nhis powers and of adjusting itself easily to the practice of his life,\nwhich had consisted precisely in betraying the secret and unlawful\nproceedings of his fellow-men. Anarchists or diplomats were all one to\nhim. Mr Verloc was temperamentally no respecter of persons. His scorn\nwas equally distributed over the whole field of his operations. But as a\nmember of a revolutionary proletariat—which he undoubtedly was—", ". The door of the shop was the only means of entrance to the house\nin which Mr Verloc carried on his business of a seller of shady wares,\nexercised his vocation of a protector of society, and cultivated his\ndomestic virtues. These last were pronounced. He was thoroughly\ndomesticated. Neither his spiritual, nor his mental, nor his physical\nneeds were of the kind to take him much abroad. He found at home the\nease of his body and the peace of his conscience, together with Mrs\nVerloc’s", "protected against the shallow enviousness of unhygienic labour. It had\nto—and Mr Verloc would have rubbed his hands with satisfaction had he not\nbeen constitutionally averse from every superfluous exertion. His\nidleness was not hygienic, but it suited him very well. He was in a\nmanner devoted to it with a sort of inert fanaticism, or perhaps rather\nwith a fanatical inertness. Born of industrious parents for a life of\ntoil, he had embraced indolence", "Verloc watched at her back as if he could\nread there the effect of his words.\n\n“There isn’t a murdering plot for the last eleven years that I hadn’t my\nfinger in at the risk of my life. There’s scores of these revolutionists\nI’ve sent off, with their bombs in their blamed pockets, to get\nthemselves caught on the frontier. The old Baron knew what I was worth\nto his country. And here suddenly a swine comes along—an ignorant", "\n“I think,” he said, looking at her steadily, “that you could give me a\npretty good notion of what’s going on if you liked.”\n\nForcing her fine, inert eyes to return his gaze, Mrs Verloc murmured:\n\n“Going on! What _is_ going on?”\n\n“Why, the affair I came to talk about a little with your husband.”\n\nThat day Mrs Verloc had glanced at a morning paper as usual. ", "a secret agent of political police, dwelling\nsecure in the consciousness of his high value and in the esteem of high\npersonages. He was excusable.\n\nNow the thing had ended in a crash. Mr Verloc was cool; but he was not\ncheerful. A secret agent who throws his secrecy to the winds from desire\nof vengeance, and flaunts his achievements before the public eye, becomes\nthe mark for desperate and bloodthirsty indignations. Without unduly\nexaggerating the danger, Mr Verloc tried to bring it clearly", "Private. It’s quiet. My husband will take you\nthere.”\n\n“A good idea,” said the thin, dark man, whose glance had hardened\nsuddenly.\n\n“You knew Mr Verloc before—didn’t you? Perhaps in France?”\n\n“I have heard of him,” admitted the visitor in his slow, painstaking\ntone, which yet had a certain curtness of intention.\n\nThere was a pause. Then", "Verloc in an awed whisper.\n\nThe Chief Inspector let out a whistle. His eyes snapped.\n\n“Just so. Capital. And your brother now, what’s he like—a sturdy,\ndarkish chap—eh?”\n\n“Oh no,” exclaimed Mrs Verloc fervently. “That must be the thief.\nStevie’s slight and fair.”\n\n“Good,” said the Chief", "Verloc, applying his mind with ingenuity and forethought to\nthe problems of the future. His voice was sombre, because he had a\ncorrect sentiment of the situation. Everything which he did not wish to\npass had come to pass. The future had become precarious. His judgment,\nperhaps, had been momentarily obscured by his dread of Mr Vladimir’s\ntruculent folly. A man somewhat over forty may be excusably thrown into\nconsiderable disorder by the prospect of losing his employment,\nespecially if the man is", "\n\n“Constable!” said Mr Verloc, with no more effort than if he were\nwhispering; and Mr Vladimir burst into a laugh on seeing the policeman\nspin round as if prodded by a sharp instrument. Mr Verloc shut the\nwindow quietly, and returned to the middle of the room.\n\n“With a voice like that,” he said, putting on the husky conversational\npedal, “I was naturally trusted. And I knew what to say, too.”\n\nMr Vlad", "dress and with a chain round his neck, glanced\nup from the newspaper he was holding spread out in both hands before his\ncalm and severe face. He didn’t move; but another lackey, in brown\ntrousers and claw-hammer coat edged with thin yellow cord, approaching Mr\nVerloc listened to the murmur of his name, and turning round on his heel\nin silence, began to walk, without looking back once. Mr Verloc, thus\nled along a ground-floor passage to the left of the great carpeted\nstaircase, was", "certain amount of intelligence. Mr Verloc was not devoid of\nintelligence—and at the notion of a menaced social order he would perhaps\nhave winked to himself if there had not been an effort to make in that\nsign of scepticism. His big, prominent eyes were not well adapted to\nwinking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber\nwith majestic effect.\n\nUndemonstrative and burly in a fat-pig style, Mr Verloc, without either\nrubbing his hands with satisfaction or w", "\n\nMrs Verloc shuddered at the sound of her husband’s voice. She did not\nuncover her face. The trusted secret agent of the late Baron\nStott-Wartenheim looked at her for a time with a heavy, persistent,\nundiscerning glance. The torn evening paper was lying at her feet. It\ncould not have told her much. Mr Verloc felt the need of talking to his\nwife.\n\n“It’s that damned Heat—eh?” he said. ", "than even you yourself are aware of.”\n\nMrs Verloc sat still, amazed, lost in boundless astonishment. What was\nthe connection? And she became so rigid all over that she was not able\nto turn her head at the clatter of the bell, which caused the private\ninvestigator Heat to spin round on his heel. Mr Verloc had shut the\ndoor, and for a moment the two men looked at each other.\n\nMr Verloc, without looking at his wife, walked up to the Chief Inspector,\nwho was relieved to see", " said Mrs Verloc at last. “I say, Adolf, he\nain’t one of them Embassy people you have been bothered with of late?”\n\n“Bothered with Embassy people,” repeated Mr Verloc, with a heavy start of\nsurprise and fear. “Who’s been talking to you of the Embassy people?”\n\n“Yourself.”\n\n“I! I! Talked of the Embassy to you!â", "the\npainted deal counter, Mr Verloc would issue hastily from the parlour at\nthe back. His eyes were naturally heavy; he had an air of having\nwallowed, fully dressed, all day on an unmade bed. Another man would\nhave felt such an appearance a distinct disadvantage. In a commercial\ntransaction of the retail order much depends on the seller’s engaging and\namiable aspect. But Mr Verloc knew his business, and remained\nundisturbed by any sort of æsthetic doubt about his appearance. With a\nfirm,", "subject,” Mr Verloc said stolidly. “But my\nfather was French, and so—”\n\n“Never mind explaining,” interrupted the other. “I daresay you could\nhave been legally a Marshal of France and a Member of Parliament in\nEngland—and then, indeed, you would have been of some use to our\nEmbassy.”\n\nThis flight of fancy provoked something like a faint smile on Mr Verloc’s\nface. Mr Vladimir retained", "went on,\nas if delivering a scientific lecture, “but they must be sufficiently\nstartling—effective. Let them be directed against buildings, for\ninstance. What is the fetish of the hour that all the bourgeoisie\nrecognise—eh, Mr Verloc?”\n\nMr Verloc opened his hands and shrugged his shoulders slightly.\n\n“You are too lazy to think,” was Mr Vladimir’s comment upon that gesture.\n“Pay attention to what I say. The fetish of", "acquaintance, and Mrs Verloc remembered having seen him\nbefore. Not a customer. She softened her “customer stare” to mere\nindifference, and faced him across the counter.\n\nHe approached, on his side, confidentially, but not too markedly so.\n\n“Husband at home, Mrs Verloc?” he asked in an easy, full tone.\n\n“No. He’s gone out.”\n\n“I am sorry for that. I’ve", "suddenly motioned to enter a quite small room furnished\nwith a heavy writing-table and a few chairs. The servant shut the door,\nand Mr Verloc remained alone. He did not take a seat. With his hat and\nstick held in one hand he glanced about, passing his other podgy hand\nover his uncovered sleek head.\n\nAnother door opened noiselessly, and Mr Verloc immobilising his glance in\nthat direction saw at first only black clothes, the bald top of a head,\nand a drooping dark grey whisker on each side of a" ], [ "step. “I thought so,” Mrs Verloc murmured\nfaintly.\n\n“You’ve read it in my eyes,” suggested Ossipon with great assurance.\n\n“Yes,” she breathed out into his inclined ear.\n\n“A love like mine could not be concealed from a woman like you,” he went\non, trying to detach his mind from material considerations such as the\nbusiness value of the shop, and the amount of money Mr Verloc might have", "Mr Michaelis. She missed him poignantly,\nwith all the force of her protecting passion. This was the boy’s home\ntoo—the roof, the cupboard, the stoked grate. On this thought Mrs Verloc\nrose, and walking to the other end of the table, said in the fulness of\nher heart:\n\n“And you are not tired of me.”\n\nMr Verloc made no sound. Winnie leaned on his shoulder from behind, and\npressed her lips to his forehead. Thus she", "Verloc himself prodigal of endearments and words\nas a rule. But this was not an ordinary evening. It was an occasion\nwhen a man wants to be fortified and strengthened by open proofs of\nsympathy and affection. Mr Verloc sighed, and put out the gas in the\nkitchen. Mr Verloc’s sympathy with his wife was genuine and intense. It\nalmost brought tears into his eyes as he stood in the parlour reflecting\non the loneliness hanging over her head. In this mood Mr Verloc missed\nSte", "optimism. At\nthat precise moment Mrs Verloc began to look upon herself as released\nfrom all earthly ties.\n\nShe had her freedom. Her contract with existence, as represented by that\nman standing over there, was at an end. She was a free woman. Had this\nview become in some way perceptible to Mr Verloc he would have been\nextremely shocked. In his affairs of the heart Mr Verloc had been always\ncarelessly generous, yet always with no other idea than that of being\nloved for himself. Upon this matter, his ethical", "€””\n\nThe memory of the early romance with the young butcher survived,\ntenacious, like the image of a glimpsed ideal in that heart quailing\nbefore the fear of the gallows and full of revolt against death.\n\n“That was the man I loved then,” went on the widow of Mr Verloc. “I\nsuppose he could see it in my eyes too. Five and twenty shillings a\nweek, and his father threatened to kick him out of the business if he\nmade such a fool of", "\nhung over him in her anxiety that he should believe Stevie to be a useful\nmember of the family. That ardour of protecting compassion exalted\nmorbidly in her childhood by the misery of another child tinged her\nsallow cheeks with a faint dusky blush, made her big eyes gleam under the\ndark lids. Mrs Verloc then looked younger; she looked as young as Winnie\nused to look, and much more animated than the Winnie of the Belgravian\nmansion days had ever allowed herself to appear to gentlemen lod", "her eyes, giving her a new and startling\nexpression; an expression seldom observed by competent persons under the\nconditions of leisure and security demanded for thorough analysis, but\nwhose meaning could not be mistaken at a glance. Mrs Verloc’s doubts as\nto the end of the bargain no longer existed; her wits, no longer\ndisconnected, were working under the control of her will. But Mr Verloc\nobserved nothing. He was reposing in that pathetic condition of optimism\ninduced by excess of fatigue. He did not want any", "mere suspicion of which would have been infinitely shocking\nto Mr Verloc’s idea of love, remained irresolute, as if scrupulously\naware of something wanting on her part for the formal closing of the\ntransaction.\n\nOn the sofa Mr Verloc wriggled his shoulders into perfect comfort, and\nfrom the fulness of his heart emitted a wish which was certainly as pious\nas anything likely to come from such a source.\n\n“I wish to goodness,” he growled huskily, “I had never seen Greenwich\n", "Mr Verloc’s kindness the longer its effects were\nlikely to last. That excellent man loved his wife, of course, but he\nwould, no doubt, prefer to keep as few of her relations as was consistent\nwith the proper display of that sentiment. It would be better if its\nwhole effect were concentrated on poor Stevie. And the heroic old woman\nresolved on going away from her children as an act of devotion and as a\nmove of deep policy.\n\nThe “virtue” of this policy consisted in this (Mrs Ver", "s that what’s made me timid. You\nseemed to love him. I was surprised—and jealous,” he added.\n\n“Love him!” Mrs Verloc cried out in a whisper, full of scorn and rage.\n“Love him! I was a good wife to him. I am a respectable woman. You\nthought I loved him! You did! Look here, Tom—”\n\nThe sound of this name thrilled Comrade Ossipon with", "It won’t be long before I am with you.”\n\nMrs Verloc, the free woman who had had really no idea where she was going\nto, obeyed the suggestion with rigid steadiness.\n\nMr Verloc watched her. She disappeared up the stairs. He was\ndisappointed. There was that within him which would have been more\nsatisfied if she had been moved to throw herself upon his breast. But he\nwas generous and indulgent. Winnie was always undemonstrative and\nsilent. Neither was Mr", "the secret of his thoughts, failed to appreciate the\ngenerosity of this restraint.\n\n“It isn’t that he doesn’t work as well as ever,” she continued. “He’s\nbeen making himself very useful. You’d think he couldn’t do enough for\nus.”\n\nMr Verloc directed a casual and somnolent glance at Stevie, who sat on\nhis right, delicate, pale-faced, his rosy mouth open vacantly. It", "before his\nwife’s mind. He repeated that he had no intention to let the\nrevolutionists do away with him.\n\nHe looked straight into his wife’s eyes. The enlarged pupils of the\nwoman received his stare into their unfathomable depths.\n\n“I am too fond of you for that,” he said, with a little nervous laugh.\n\nA faint flush coloured Mrs Verloc’s ghastly and motionless face. Having\ndone with the visions of the past", "not afraid of\nstrange women, and no feeling of false delicacy could prevent him from\nstriking an acquaintance with a woman apparently very much intoxicated.\nComrade Ossipon was interested in women. He held up this one between his\ntwo large palms, peering at her in a business-like way till he heard her\nsay faintly “Mr Ossipon!” and then he very nearly let her drop to the\nground.\n\n“Mrs Verloc!” he exclaimed. “", "ll want all your wits about you\nafter I am taken away.”\n\nHe paused. Mrs Verloc’s breast heaved convulsively. This was not\nreassuring to Mr Verloc, in whose view the newly created situation\nrequired from the two people most concerned in it calmness, decision, and\nother qualities incompatible with the mental disorder of passionate\nsorrow. Mr Verloc was a humane man; he had come home prepared to allow\nevery latitude to his wife’s affection for her brother.\n\nOnly he did not", "\nremarkable amount of animosity into his guarded exclamation. Mrs Verloc\ncaught at his arm with a sort of frenzy.\n\n“You guessed then he was dead,” she murmured, as if beside herself.\n“You! You guessed what I had to do. Had to!”\n\nThere were suggestions of triumph, relief, gratitude in the indefinable\ntone of these words. It engrossed the whole attention of Ossipon to the\ndetriment of mere literal sense. He", "a submissive creature. The protection she\nhad extended over her brother had been in its origin of a fierce and\nindignant complexion. She had to love him with a militant love. She had\nbattled for him—even against herself. His loss had the bitterness of\ndefeat, with the anguish of a baffled passion. It was not an ordinary\nstroke of death. Moreover, it was not death that took Stevie from her.\nIt was Mr Verloc who took him away. She had seen him", "understand either the nature or the whole extent of that\nsentiment. And in this he was excusable, since it was impossible for him\nto understand it without ceasing to be himself. He was startled and\ndisappointed, and his speech conveyed it by a certain roughness of tone.\n\n“You might look at a fellow,” he observed after waiting a while.\n\nAs if forced through the hands covering Mrs Verloc’s face the answer\ncame, deadened, almost pitiful.\n\n“I don’", "and overcoat,\nstamping with his boots upon her brain. He was probably talking too; but\nMrs Verloc’s thought for the most part covered the voice.\n\nNow and then, however, the voice would make itself heard. Several\nconnected words emerged at times. Their purport was generally hopeful.\nOn each of these occasions Mrs Verloc’s dilated pupils, losing their\nfar-off fixity, followed her husband’s movements with the effect of black\ncare and impenetrable attention. Well informed upon", ". I daresay you could not\nhelp seeing it in my eyes. But I could not guess it. You were always so\ndistant. . . .”\n\n“What else did you expect?” burst out Mrs Verloc. “I was a respectable\nwoman—”\n\nShe paused, then added, as if speaking to herself, in sinister\nresentment: “Till he made me what I am.”\n\nOssipon let that pass, and took up his running" ], [ "and automatically asked herself: “And what of Stevie?”\n\nIt was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there\nwas no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never\nbe any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.\nThe poor boy was dead.\n\nThis shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc’s intelligence.\nShe began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr\nVerloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen,", ". She had watched\nhim, without raising a hand, take the boy away. And she had let him go,\nlike—like a fool—a blind fool. Then after he had murdered the boy he\ncame home to her. Just came home like any other man would come home to\nhis wife. . . .\n\nThrough her set teeth Mrs Verloc muttered at the wall:\n\n“And I thought he had caught a cold.”\n\nMr Verloc heard these words and appropriated them.\n\n“It was", "inheritance of her\nimmemorial and obscure descent, the simple ferocity of the age of\ncaverns, and the unbalanced nervous fury of the age of bar-rooms. Mr\nVerloc, the Secret Agent, turning slightly on his side with the force of\nthe blow, expired without stirring a limb, in the muttered sound of the\nword “Don’t” by way of protest.\n\nMrs Verloc had let go the knife, and her extraordinary resemblance to her\nlate brother had faded, had become very ordinary", "vie was dead the bond seemed to be broken. She could not face\nthe old woman with the horrible tale. Moreover, it was too far. The\nriver was her present destination. Mrs Verloc tried to forget her\nmother.\n\nEach step cost her an effort of will which seemed the last possible. Mrs\nVerloc had dragged herself past the red glow of the eating-house window.\n“To the bridge—and over I go,” she repeated to herself with fierce\nobstinacy. She put out her hand just in time to", "She had become a free woman with a perfection of freedom which left her\nnothing to desire and absolutely nothing to do, since Stevie’s urgent\nclaim on her devotion no longer existed. Mrs Verloc, who thought in\nimages, was not troubled now by visions, because she did not think at\nall. And she did not move. She was a woman enjoying her complete\nirresponsibility and endless leisure, almost in the manner of a corpse.\nShe did not move, she did not think. Neither did the mortal envelope of\nthe late", "last. Of course not. It had been stopped all the time. As\na matter of fact, only three minutes had elapsed from the moment she had\ndrawn the first deep, easy breath after the blow, to this moment when Mrs\nVerloc formed the resolution to drown herself in the Thames. But Mrs\nVerloc could not believe that. She seemed to have heard or read that\nclocks and watches always stopped at the moment of murder for the undoing\nof the murderer. She did not care. “To the bridge—and", "\n\nIt had been an obscurely prompted blow. The blood trickling on the floor\noff the handle of the knife had turned it into an extremely plain case of\nmurder. Mrs Verloc, who always refrained from looking deep into things,\nwas compelled to look into the very bottom of this thing. She saw there\nno haunting face, no reproachful shade, no vision of remorse, no sort of\nideal conception. She saw there an object. That object was the gallows.\nMrs Verloc was afraid of the gall", "optimism. At\nthat precise moment Mrs Verloc began to look upon herself as released\nfrom all earthly ties.\n\nShe had her freedom. Her contract with existence, as represented by that\nman standing over there, was at an end. She was a free woman. Had this\nview become in some way perceptible to Mr Verloc he would have been\nextremely shocked. In his affairs of the heart Mr Verloc had been always\ncarelessly generous, yet always with no other idea than that of being\nloved for himself. Upon this matter, his ethical", "her eyes, giving her a new and startling\nexpression; an expression seldom observed by competent persons under the\nconditions of leisure and security demanded for thorough analysis, but\nwhose meaning could not be mistaken at a glance. Mrs Verloc’s doubts as\nto the end of the bargain no longer existed; her wits, no longer\ndisconnected, were working under the control of her will. But Mr Verloc\nobserved nothing. He was reposing in that pathetic condition of optimism\ninduced by excess of fatigue. He did not want any", "ders, she saw before her the very implement with its\nghastly load scraped up from the ground. Mrs Verloc closed her eyes\ndesperately, throwing upon that vision the night of her eyelids, where\nafter a rainlike fall of mangled limbs the decapitated head of Stevie\nlingered suspended alone, and fading out slowly like the last star of a\npyrotechnic display. Mrs Verloc opened her eyes.\n\nHer face was no longer stony. Anybody could have noted the subtle change\non her features, in the stare of", ", the husband of a woman, and the murderer of her\nStevie. And now he was of no account in every respect. He was of less\npractical account than the clothing on his body, than his overcoat, than\nhis boots—than that hat lying on the floor. He was nothing. He was not\nworth looking at. He was even no longer the murderer of poor Stevie.\nThe only murderer that would be found in the room when people came to\nlook for Mr Verloc would be—herself!", "utmost.\nAfter a month of maddening worry, ending in an unexpected catastrophe,\nthe storm-tossed spirit of Mr Verloc longed for repose. His career as a\nsecret agent had come to an end in a way no one could have foreseen;\nonly, now, perhaps he could manage to get a night’s sleep at last. But\nlooking at his wife, he doubted it. She was taking it very hard—not at\nall like herself, he thought. He made an effort to speak.\n\nâ", "\ndead, is there? Everything I leave here is altogether your own now, my\ndear.”\n\nWinnie, with her hat on, silent behind her mother’s back, went on\narranging the collar of the old woman’s cloak. She got her hand-bag, an\numbrella, with an impassive face. The time had come for the expenditure\nof the sum of three-and-sixpence on what might well be supposed the last\ncab drive of Mrs Verloc’s motherâ", "threatening her with the end of the\nworld, said:\n\n“The idea!”\n\nMr Verloc declared himself sick and tired of everything, and besides—She\ninterrupted him.\n\n“You’ve a bad cold.”\n\nIt was indeed obvious that Mr Verloc was not in his usual state,\nphysically and even mentally. A sombre irresolution held him silent for\na while. Then he murmured a few ominous generalities on the theme of\nnecessity.\n\n“Will", "before his\nwife’s mind. He repeated that he had no intention to let the\nrevolutionists do away with him.\n\nHe looked straight into his wife’s eyes. The enlarged pupils of the\nwoman received his stare into their unfathomable depths.\n\n“I am too fond of you for that,” he said, with a little nervous laugh.\n\nA faint flush coloured Mrs Verloc’s ghastly and motionless face. Having\ndone with the visions of the past", "old\ngirl,” he added in a softened voice.\n\nMrs Verloc’s mind got hold of that declaration with morbid tenacity. The\nman who had taken Stevie out from under her very eyes to murder him in a\nlocality whose name was at the moment not present to her memory would not\nallow her go out. Of course he wouldn’t.\n\nNow he had murdered Stevie he would never let her go. He would want to\nkeep her for nothing. And on this characteristic reasoning, having all\nthe", "Mr Verloc’s kindness the longer its effects were\nlikely to last. That excellent man loved his wife, of course, but he\nwould, no doubt, prefer to keep as few of her relations as was consistent\nwith the proper display of that sentiment. It would be better if its\nwhole effect were concentrated on poor Stevie. And the heroic old woman\nresolved on going away from her children as an act of devotion and as a\nmove of deep policy.\n\nThe “virtue” of this policy consisted in this (Mrs Ver", "™ Club. The thought passed through his mind that Mr\nVladimir, honorary member, would not be seen very often there in the\nfuture. He looked at his watch. It was only half-past ten. He had had\na very full evening.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nAfter Chief Inspector Heat had left him Mr Verloc moved about the\nparlour.\n\nFrom time to time he eyed his wife through the open door. “She knows all\nabout it now,” he thought to himself with commiser", "more trouble—with his\nwife too—of all people in the world. He had been unanswerable in his\nvindication. He was loved for himself. The present phase of her silence\nhe interpreted favourably. This was the time to make it up with her.\nThe silence had lasted long enough. He broke it by calling to her in an\nundertone.\n\n“Winnie.”\n\n“Yes,” answered obediently Mrs Verloc the free woman. She commanded her", "backward a\nlittle.\n\n“Whatever for is it torn out like this?”\n\nThe Chief Inspector snatched across the counter the cloth out of her\nhands, and she sat heavily on the chair. He thought: identification’s\nperfect. And in that moment he had a glimpse into the whole amazing\ntruth. Verloc was the “other man.”\n\n“Mrs Verloc,” he said, “it strikes me that you know more of this bomb\naffair" ], [ "sheet, as if\nflushed by the warmth of its own convictions, which were optimistic. He\nscanned the pages rapidly.\n\n“Ah! Here it is. Bomb in Greenwich Park. There isn’t much so far.\nHalf-past eleven. Foggy morning. Effects of explosion felt as far as\nRomney Road and Park Place. Enormous hole in the ground under a tree\nfilled with smashed roots and broken branches. All round fragments of a\nman’s body blown to pieces", "came\nto the ground with gloomy frankness.\n\n“I’ve brought away an address,” he said, pulling out of his pocket\nwithout haste a singed rag of dark blue cloth. “This belongs to the\novercoat the fellow who got himself blown to pieces was wearing. Of\ncourse, the overcoat may not have been his, and may even have been\nstolen. But that’s not at all probable if you look at this.”\n\nThe Chief Inspector, stepping up to the", "to whisper to him who I\nwas and to add ‘I know that you are at the bottom of this affair.’ It\nmust have seemed miraculous to him that we should know already, but he\ntook it all in the stride. The wonderfulness of it never checked him for\na moment. There remained for me only to put to him the two questions:\nWho put you up to it? and Who was the man who did it? He answered the\nfirst with remarkable emphasis. As to the second question, I gather that\nthe fellow with the bomb", ", you note. Ergo: blew _himself_ up.\nThat spoils your day off for you—don’t it? Were you expecting that sort\nof move? I hadn’t the slightest idea—not the ghost of a notion of\nanything of the sort being planned to come off here—in this country.\nUnder the present circumstances it’s nothing short of criminal.”\n\nThe little man lifted his thin black eyebrows with dispassionate scorn.\n\n“Criminal", ". That’s all. The rest’s mere newspaper gup.\nNo doubt a wicked attempt to blow up the Observatory, they say. H’m.\nThat’s hardly credible.”\n\nHe looked at the paper for a while longer in silence, then passed it to\nthe other, who after gazing abstractedly at the print laid it down\nwithout comment.\n\nIt was Ossipon who spoke first—still resentful.\n\n“The fragments of only _one_ man", "went on in a good-natured tone, “the\nforeign governments cannot complain of the inefficiency of our police.\nLook at this outrage; a case specially difficult to trace inasmuch as it\nwas a sham. In less than twelve hours we have established the identity\nof a man literally blown to shreds, have found the organiser of the\nattempt, and have had a glimpse of the inciter behind him. And we could\nhave gone further; only we stopped at the limits of our territory.”\n\n“So this", ",” he added in a reproving\ntone. “Did he say anything to you—give you some idea of his intentions?\nI hadn’t seen him for a month. It seems impossible that he should be\ngone.”\n\n“He told me it was going to be a demonstration against a building,” said\nthe Professor. “I had to know that much to prepare the missile. I\npointed out to him that I had hardly a sufficient quantity for a\ncom", "another man\nturned down the corners of the cloth, and stepped aside. The Chief\nInspector’s eyes searched the gruesome detail of that heap of mixed\nthings, which seemed to have been collected in shambles and rag shops.\n\n“You used a shovel,” he remarked, observing a sprinkling of small gravel,\ntiny brown bits of bark, and particles of splintered wood as fine as\nneedles.\n\n“Had to in one place,” said the stolid constable. ", "of fanaticism. For it is a\nplanned thing, undoubtedly. The actual perpetrator seems to have been\nled by the hand to the spot, and then abandoned hurriedly to his own\ndevices. The inference is that he was imported from abroad for the\npurpose of committing this outrage. At the same time one is forced to\nthe conclusion that he did not know enough English to ask his way, unless\none were to accept the fantastic theory that he was a deaf mute. I\nwonder now—But this is idle. He", "™ll have to spoil your holiday\nfor you, though. There’s a man blown up in Greenwich Park this morning.”\n\n“How do you know?”\n\n“They have been yelling the news in the streets since two o’clock. I\nbought the paper, and just ran in here. Then I saw you sitting at this\ntable. I’ve got it in my pocket now.”\n\nHe pulled the newspaper out. It was a good-sized rosy", "a cannibal feast. It required\nconsiderable firmness of mind not to recoil before that sight. Chief\nInspector Heat, an efficient officer of his department, stood his ground,\nbut for a whole minute he did not advance. A local constable in uniform\ncast a sidelong glance, and said, with stolid simplicity:\n\n“He’s all there. Every bit of him. It was a job.”\n\nHe had been the first man on the spot after the explosion. He mentioned\nthe", "escorted the other to\nthe spot, and then to have left him there to do the job single-handed.\nTaking the time those two were seen coming out of Maze Hill Station by\nthe old woman, and the time when the explosion was heard, the Chief\nInspector thought that the other man might have been actually at the\nGreenwich Park Station, ready to catch the next train up, at the moment\nhis comrade was destroying himself so thoroughly.\n\n“Very thoroughly—eh?” murmured the Assistant Commissioner from under the\nshadow of his hand.\n", ", not the right time for\nmany reasons, personal and of public service. This being the strong\nfeeling of Inspector Heat, it appeared to him just and proper that this\naffair should be shunted off its obscure and inconvenient track, leading\ngoodness knows where, into a quiet (and lawful) siding called Michaelis.\nAnd he repeated, as if reconsidering the suggestion conscientiously:\n\n“The bomb. No, I would not say that exactly. We may never find that\nout. But it’s", "the man blown to\npieces in Greenwich Park not having been identified. It was\ninconceivable on any theory that Verloc should have given her an inkling\nof his intention—whatever it was. This problem interested Comrade\nOssipon immensely. He stopped short. They had gone then along the three\nsides of Brett Place, and were near the end of Brett Street again.\n\n“How did you first come to hear of it?” he asked in a tone he tried to\nrender appropriate to the", ", which would make the connection,\nand then forgot the time. It was set for twenty minutes. On the other\nhand, the time contact being made, a sharp shock would bring about the\nexplosion at once. He either ran the time too close, or simply let the\nthing fall. The contact was made all right—that’s clear to me at any\nrate. The system’s worked perfectly. And yet you would think that a\ncommon fool in a hurry would be much more likely to forget to make the\ncontact altogether. ", "the inner breast pocket of his\njacket. His clothes, of a nondescript brown mixture, were threadbare and\nmarked with stains, dusty in the folds, with ragged button-holes. “The\ndetonator is partly mechanical, partly chemical,” he explained, with\ncasual condescension.\n\n“It is instantaneous, of course?” murmured Ossipon, with a slight\nshudder.\n\n“Far from it,” confessed the other, with", "slight enough. Look at that foot there. I picked up the legs\nfirst, one after another. He was that scattered you didn’t know where to\nbegin.”\n\nThe constable paused; the least flicker of an innocent self-laudatory\nsmile invested his round face with an infantile expression.\n\n“Stumbled,” he announced positively. “I stumbled once myself, and\npitched on my head too, while running up. Them roots do stick out all\nabout the place. ", "backward a\nlittle.\n\n“Whatever for is it torn out like this?”\n\nThe Chief Inspector snatched across the counter the cloth out of her\nhands, and she sat heavily on the chair. He thought: identification’s\nperfect. And in that moment he had a glimpse into the whole amazing\ntruth. Verloc was the “other man.”\n\n“Mrs Verloc,” he said, “it strikes me that you know more of this bomb\naffair", "Inspector in an approving tone. And while Mrs\nVerloc, wavering between alarm and wonder, stared at him, he sought for\ninformation. Why have the address sewn like this inside the coat? And\nhe heard that the mangled remains he had inspected that morning with\nextreme repugnance were those of a youth, nervous, absent-minded,\npeculiar, and also that the woman who was speaking to him had had the\ncharge of that boy since he was a baby.\n\n“Easily excitable?” he suggested", "“I sent a keeper to\nfetch a spade. When he heard me scraping the ground with it he leaned\nhis forehead against a tree, and was as sick as a dog.”\n\nThe Chief Inspector, stooping guardedly over the table, fought down the\nunpleasant sensation in his throat. The shattering violence of\ndestruction which had made of that body a heap of nameless fragments\naffected his feelings with a sense of ruthless cruelty, though his reason\ntold him the effect must have been as swift as a flash" ], [ "\nassault threatened for that night were going to fizzle out. An inferior\nhenchman of “that brute Cheeseman” was up boring mercilessly a very thin\nHouse with some shamelessly cooked statistics. He, Toodles, hoped he\nwould bore them into a count out every minute. But then he might be only\nmarking time to let that guzzling Cheeseman dine at his leisure. Anyway,\nthe Chief could not be persuaded to go home.\n\n“He will see", "ament, he felt sorry for the great Presence he called “The\nChief,” and also for the Assistant Commissioner, whose face appeared to\nhim more ominously wooden than ever before, and quite wonderfully long.\n“What a queer, foreign-looking chap he is,” he thought to himself,\nsmiling from a distance with friendly buoyancy. And directly they came\ntogether he began to talk with the kind intention of burying the\nawkwardness of failure under a heap of words. It looked as if the great", "on his\nback, and now met his glance for a second before the intent character of\ntheir stare had the time to change to a merely startled appearance.\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner of Police had really some qualifications for\nhis post. Suddenly his suspicion was awakened. It is but fair to say\nthat his suspicions of the police methods (unless the police happened to\nbe a semi-military body organised by himself) was not difficult to\narouse. If it ever slumbered from sheer weariness, it was but lightly;\nand his appreciation of Chief", "\nThe Chief Inspector in a few vigorous words described the aspect of the\nremains. “The coroner’s jury will have a treat,” he added grimly.\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner uncovered his eyes.\n\n“We shall have nothing to tell them,” he remarked languidly.\n\nHe looked up, and for a time watched the markedly non-committal attitude\nof his Chief Inspector. His nature was one that is not easily accessible\nto illusions. He knew that a department is", "at once the account of his investigation in a\nclear matter-of-fact manner. His superior turning his chair a little,\nand crossing his thin legs, leaned sideways on his elbow, with one hand\nshading his eyes. His listening attitude had a sort of angular and\nsorrowful grace. Gleams as of highly burnished silver played on the\nsides of his ebony black head when he inclined it slowly at the end.\n\nChief Inspector Heat waited with the appearance of turning over in his\nmind all he had just said, but, as a matter of fact,", "on the lips of the Assistant Commissioner. His\nmanner was easy and business-like while he persisted in administering\nanother shake to the tight rope.\n\n“Let us come now to what you have discovered on the spot, Chief\nInspector,” he said.\n\n“A fool and his job are soon parted,” went on the train of prophetic\nthought in Chief Inspector Heat’s head. But it was immediately followed\nby the reflection that a higher official, even when “fired outâ", "€ (this was\nthe precise image), has still the time as he flies through the door to\nlaunch a nasty kick at the shin-bones of a subordinate. Without\nsoftening very much the basilisk nature of his stare, he said\nimpassively:\n\n“We are coming to that part of my investigation, sir.”\n\n“That’s right. Well, what have you brought away from it?”\n\nThe Chief Inspector, who had made up his mind to jump off the rope,", "not an absolutely worthy foeman of his\npenetration, was at any rate the most worthy of all within his reach. A\nmistrust of established reputations was strictly in character with the\nAssistant Commissioner’s ability as detector. His memory evoked a\ncertain old fat and wealthy native chief in the distant colony whom it\nwas a tradition for the successive Colonial Governors to trust and make\nmuch of as a firm friend and supporter of the order and legality\nestablished by white men; whereas, when examined sceptically, he was\n", "man for me. I thought I had better know all there was to know;\nbut I don’t suppose you want to hear his history now, sir?”\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner shook his supported head. “The history of\nyour relations with that useful personage is the only thing that matters\njust now,” he said, closing slowly his weary, deep-set eyes, and then\nopening them swiftly with a greatly refreshed glance.\n\n“There’s nothing official about them,” said the Chief", "Chief Inspector Heat, principal expert in\nanarchist procedure.\n\nThis was not the only circumstance whose recollection depressed the usual\nserenity of the eminent specialist. There was another dating back only\nto that very morning. The thought that when called urgently to his\nAssistant Commissioner’s private room he had been unable to conceal his\nastonishment was distinctly vexing. His instinct of a successful man had\ntaught him long ago that, as a general rule, a reputation is built on\nmanner as much as on achievement.", "Verloc in an awed whisper.\n\nThe Chief Inspector let out a whistle. His eyes snapped.\n\n“Just so. Capital. And your brother now, what’s he like—a sturdy,\ndarkish chap—eh?”\n\n“Oh no,” exclaimed Mrs Verloc fervently. “That must be the thief.\nStevie’s slight and fair.”\n\n“Good,” said the Chief", "\nMrs Verloc shook her head.\n\n“Can’t say.”\n\nShe turned away to range some boxes on the shelves behind the counter.\nChief Inspector Heat looked at her thoughtfully for a time.\n\n“I suppose you know who I am?” he said.\n\nMrs Verloc glanced over her shoulder. Chief Inspector Heat was amazed at\nher coolness.\n\n“Come! You know I am in the police,” he said sharply.\n\n“I", "your salary, but haven’t you made your\nname simply by not understanding what we are after?”\n\n“What are you after, then?” asked Chief Inspector Heat, with scornful\nhaste, like a man in a hurry who perceives he is wasting his time.\n\nThe perfect anarchist answered by a smile which did not part his thin\ncolourless lips; and the celebrated Chief Inspector felt a sense of\nsuperiority which induced him to raise a warning finger.\n\n“Give it upâ", "“I sent a keeper to\nfetch a spade. When he heard me scraping the ground with it he leaned\nhis forehead against a tree, and was as sick as a dog.”\n\nThe Chief Inspector, stooping guardedly over the table, fought down the\nunpleasant sensation in his throat. The shattering violence of\ndestruction which had made of that body a heap of nameless fragments\naffected his feelings with a sense of ruthless cruelty, though his reason\ntold him the effect must have been as swift as a flash", "s between ourselves strictly,” he said.\n\n“That’s the beastliest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” declared\nToodles feebly, as if astonishment had robbed him of all his buoyant\nstrength in a second.\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner gave him an unsmiling glance. Till they came\nto the door of the great man’s room, Toodles preserved a scandalised and\nsolemn silence, as though he were offended with the Assistant\nComm", "€ he remarked, setting it down again. “As I said, it’s\nstrange. Because the overcoat has got a label sewn on the inside with\nyour address written in marking ink.”\n\nMrs Verloc leaned over the counter with a low exclamation.\n\n“That’s my brother’s, then.”\n\n“Where’s your brother? Can I see him?” asked the Chief Inspector\nbriskly. Mrs", "ly cautioned, they made their\nstatements in the tones of injured innocence, or false simplicity, or\nsullen resignation. But behind that professional and stony fixity there\nwas some surprise too, for in such a tone, combining nicely the note of\ncontempt and impatience, Chief Inspector Heat, the right-hand man of the\ndepartment, was not used to be addressed. He began in a procrastinating\nmanner, like a man taken unawares by a new and unexpected experience.\n\n“What I’ve", "”\n\n“I do, sir.”\n\n“Quite convinced?\n\n“I am, sir. That’s the true line for us to take.”\n\nThe Assistant Commissioner withdrew the support of his hand from his\nreclining head with a suddenness that, considering his languid attitude,\nseemed to menace his whole person with collapse. But, on the contrary,\nhe sat up, extremely alert, behind the great writing-table on which his\nhand had fallen with the sound", "such a long time that Chief\nInspector Heat ventured to clear his throat. This noise produced its\neffect. The zealous and intelligent officer was asked by his superior,\nwhose back remained turned to him immovably:\n\n“You connect Michaelis with this affair?”\n\nChief Inspector Heat was very positive, but cautious.\n\n“Well, sir,” he said, “we have enough to go upon. A man like that has no\nbusiness to be at large, anyhow.”\n\n", "Stumbled against the root of a tree and fell, and that\nthing he was carrying must have gone off right under his chest, I\nexpect.”\n\nThe echo of the words “Person unknown” repeating itself in his inner\nconsciousness bothered the Chief Inspector considerably. He would have\nliked to trace this affair back to its mysterious origin for his own\ninformation. He was professionally curious. Before the public he would\nhave liked to vindicate the efficiency of his department by establishing\nthe identity of that man. He was a loyal servant." ] ]

[ " What does Verloc sell in his shop? ", "Where is this story set?", "What time in history does The Secret Agent take place?", "Who iives in Verlac's home?", "Is there any activity that seems to be relative to modern times?", "What point of view is used in telling the Secret Agent?", "Discuss the way Conrad treat Stevie as a character?", "What was the weapon used to blow up the Greenwich Conservatory?", "What is Winnie's relationship to Mr. Verloc?", "What city is Mr. Verl0c's shop located in?", "What type of viewing material does Mr. Verloc's shop sell?", "What does Mrs. Verloc do to her husband after learning of Stevie's death?", "What British structure is Mr. Verloc instructed to destroy by Vladimir?", "What is Stevie's relationship to Mrs. Verloc?", "Who is killed in the bombing of the Greenwich Conservatory?", "What does Comrade Ossipon hope to gain by romantic involvement with Mrs. Verloc?", "How does Mrs. Verloc die?", "What clothing item is found at the bomb site?", "Where does this story take place?", "Who is killed in the bombing?", "Who is Stevei to Mrs. Verloc?", "Who gave explosives to Verloc?", "Who murdered Stevie?", "What is Verloc's profession?", "Who has romantic feelings for Mrs. Verloc?", "What is the fate of Mrs. Verloc?", "What was found at the bombing scene?", "Who is the Chief?" ]

[ [ "Pornographic material, contraceptives and bric a break.", "Pornographic material, contraceptives, and bric -a- brac." ], [ "London, England", "London in 1886." ], [ "In the Victorian age 1886", "1886 in London" ], [ "wife, sister, brother in law and mother in law", "Mr. Verloc, his wife Winnie, his mother-in-law, and his brother-in-law Stevie" ], [ "Terrorism", "The attacks on science " ], [ "Third person; omnicscient", "Sounds like first person, through different characters at different points in the story" ], [ "He makes him a sympathetic character because he was autistic ( but that term wasn't used back then). He was a very excitable person, child like and not too smart.", "As an excitable, mentally unstable character, possibly autistic" ], [ "bomb", "bomb" ], [ "Winnie is Mr. Verlac's wife", "She is his wife." ], [ "London", "London. " ], [ "pornographic", "pornographic material" ], [ "Mrs. Verloc stabs Mr. Verloc to death", "Fatally stabs him." ], [ "The Greenwich Conservatory", "Greenwich Observatory" ], [ "Stevie is Mrs. Verloc's brother", "brother" ], [ "Stevie", "one man" ], [ "Mr. Verloc's savings", "Mr. Verloc's bank account savings" ], [ "By drowning herself in the English Channel", "She drowns herself" ], [ "An overcoat", "An overcoat. " ], [ "London", "London. " ], [ "Stevie", "Stevie" ], [ "Brother", "Her brother. " ], [ "The Professor", "The Professor" ], [ "Verloc", "Verloc" ], [ "secret agent", "Secret Agent" ], [ "Comrade Ossipon", "No one- Ossipon lied about his romantic feelings" ], [ "Suicide", "drowns herself" ], [ "overcoat", "Stevie's overcoat" ], [ "Inspector Heat", "Chief Inspector Heat" ] ]

[ [ " registration desk and walks up to it. There is a softness \n about his regular features, a certain indefinable sugariness \n about his mouth. He seems tight-lipped, for lorn and uneasy \n as he faces Macreedy across the counter.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n I'd like a room.\n\n PETE\n All filled up.\n\n MACREEDY\n (a beat)\n Got any idea where", " Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the hotel.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a tiny \n lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector strolls \n in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy chair. \n He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy. \n Macreedy waits patiently for", ", pushes the towel \n from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob. He \n is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly, silently, \n he turns the knob and throws open the door.\n\n INT. HOTEL ROOM\n\n Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely \n furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents \n askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed sprawls \n Hector", "alties imposed...\n\n Again his voice trails off.\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyes still on the \n ledger)\n You seem to have lots of vacancies.\n\n PETE\n (uncomfortable)\n Well... as I said...\n\n Macreedy leans over the counter to a rack of keys. He runs \n his splayed fingers over the key rack as...\n\n MACREEDY\n Lots of vacancies.\n\n ", "perfectly the instructions of \n his teacher.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n The lobby empty except for Pete behind the desk. Macreedy \n goes to him. Pete seems elaborately occupied arranging and \n re-arranging a few file cards. Smith enters the lobby. He \n stands in b.g. watching Macreedy and the desk clerk.\n\n MACREEDY\n (to Pete)\n Still expecting that convention?\n\n PETE\n (looking up)\n ", "Y\n\n heading toward the hotel. In b.g. is a relatively small farm \n equipment yard compressed between a general store (which \n Macreedy has just passed) and the hotel just ahead. In the \n yard are a few tractors, and among them huddles a tiny office. \n It is empty; the front window is thick with dust. On it, \n etched by an anonymous, childish finger, is a skull and \n crossbones. Running diagonally across is the printed legend:\n\n T.J", "\n and...)\n All right. Yeah... I've told him \n everything.\n\n Slowly he replaces the phone on the switch-board. He comes \n around from behind the desk, joining Macreedy and Doc.\n\n PETE\n (flatly)\n She'll be here in five minutes.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks, Pete. Thanks very much.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. HOTEL LOBBY", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "\n walks down, carrying his suitcase. He goes to Pete at the \n clerk's desk.\n\n MACREEDY\n Anything for me?\n\n PETE\n Nothing.\n\n MACREEDY\n Any message -- a telegram?\n\n PETE\n (returning to his \n cards)\n Nothing.\n\n As Macreedy turns from the desk, Doc joins him.\n\n DOC\n (", "\n\n MACREEDY\n In my new room, you mean?\n (flatly)\n I'm staying.\n\n PETE\n I mean, in the hotel.\n\n MACREEDY\n Just about twenty-four hours.\n (sharply)\n Why?\n\n PETE\n (flustered)\n I... I was just askin'.\n\n MACREEDY\n (evenly)", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", " toward the hotel \n stairs o.s.)\n ...I'd ask him.\n\n Sam follows Doc's gaze...\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT THEY SEE 35X1\n\n Macreedy walks down the stairs. Pete looks up from the desk. \n He is about to dart behind the partition when...\n\n MACREEDY\n Hey! Hold it!\n\n He walks to the desk, smiling at Pete. In b.g., Doc, Sam and \n the", "\n slightly)\n No cabs.\n\n MACREEDY\n Where's the hotel?\n\n Hastings looks at him blankly. The thousand-yard stare of a \n hypnotic glazes his features.\n\n MACREEDY\n (patiently)\n I asked where's the hotel?\n\n Hastings points.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks.\n\n With his suitcase, he cuts across a weedy path, running into", "the street as Macreedy slowly walks toward the \n hotel. Not a person has moved, each eye is glued on the \n stranger.\n\n The hollow rasp of Macreedy's tread on the wooden platform \n of the \"pavement\" seems shatteringly loud in the enveloping \n silence...\n\n CLOSE SHOT - LIZ\n\n as she follows the man's movement.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n CLOSE ANGLE - ON MACRE", " MACREEDY\n I thought the tradition of the old \n West was hospitality.\n\n SMITH\n (with a sincere smile)\n I'm trying to be hospitable, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n (boyishly pushes his \n dusty cap back on \n his head)\n Going to be around for a while?\n\n MACREEDY\n Could be.\n\n SMITH\n How would you", "Where's the man it belongs to?\n\n T.J.\n Ain't a man.\n\n He pauses. As Macreedy opens his mouth to interrogate \n further...\n\n T.J.\n Lady runs this garage.\n\n Again a pause. T.J. has just completed the final letter of \n the word \"HATES\". And again as Macreedy opens his mouth...\n\n T.J.\n She's not here.\n\n ", "come out of the hotel. \n They stand on the porch, watching Macreedy as he in turn \n watches the car. They exchange a glance. Smith nods, so...\n\n COLEY\n Well, if it's not Macreedy - the \n world's champion road hog.\n\n He walks down the steps to the street, joining Macreedy. \n Smith remains on the porch.\n\n MACREEDY\n Yeah. It's a small world.\n\n ", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'" ], [ "\n Macreedy starts to say something, then stops. Reconsidering...\n\n MACREEDY\n One thing about Black Rock -- \n everybody's polite. Makes for gracious \n living.\n\n TIM\n Nobody asked you here.\n\n MACREEDY\n How do you know?\n (he moves toward the \n door, with a rueful \n grin)\n\n TIM\n (starting after him)", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "achment of a child. \n The other man is broad and excessively masculine as he swings \n out from behind the wheel. He walks around the car, joining \n Coley at the curb. Macreedy comes on. The man with Coley \n looks at the stranger with colossal indifference, as \n expressionless as the soil of Black Rock. His handsome face, \n under a dusty hunting cap, is taut and hard and wind-shaven. \n Next to Coley he stands motionless, except for the wisp", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n ", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "T. ROAD - MACREEDY AND LIZ \n\n as they speed down the long empty ribbon of road. Liz drives \n hard. Macreedy turns in the bucket seat, looking back toward \n Black Rock.\n\n LIZ\n Sorry I can't get more out of this \n heap.\n\n Macreedy does not answer.\n\n LIZ\n (with a burst of \n irritation)\n We could make better time with a dog \n team.", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "him. You're sort of independent and \n he's... he's...\n\n LIZ\n Weak. I know. That's why I couldn't \n leave him.\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n What did your brother do?\n\n LIZ\n He... I...\n (flaring again)\n What do you care? What do you care \n about Black Rock?\n\n MACREEDY", "of them broken. Macreedy \n halts momentarily beside the well. Reaching out he touches \n the warped sun-beaten boards that cover the mouth. He removes \n one, and, picking up a pebble, drops it through the opening. \n There is a long beat and then, from far, far below we HEAR a \n faint PLUNK (o.s.). He replaces the board and walks to a \n broken wall. He touches the burned out frame of a picture. \n The frame falls to the ground,", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", "black alcove center screen b.g. But Hector \n is not to be sucked in. He glares at Pete, waiting. (NOTE: \n The following dialogue is delivered sotto voce.)\n\n HECTOR\n What you want?\n\n PETE\n He's still in his room. Macreedy, I \n mean.\n\n HECTOR\n So...? You want me to tuck him in?\n\n PETE\n I thought maybe you", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "\n pretty big stink. The point is... \n who would miss a nobody like Macreedy \n if he just, say, disappeared? Who, \n Coley?\n\n Coley is terribly preoccupied, balances himself, like a child, \n on a steel rail.\n\n SMITH\n (exasperated)\n Coley!\n\n COLEY\n (galvanized from the \n rail)\n Huh?\n\n " ], [ ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", "ornfully)\n What else is left for you?!\n (mounting anger)\n You're as dead as Komako, only you \n don't know it!\n (roaring)\n You also don't know that it's not \n enough to feel guilty. It's not enough \n to confess. It's not enough to say, \n \"Forgive me, I've done wrong.\"\n\n DOC\n Take it easy, Macreedy", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", "he takes the bottle \n from Macreedy)\n You move fast for a crip... for a \n big man.\n\n For a moment heavy silence. Finally...\n\n MACREEDY\n What about Komako?\n\n TIM\n (slowly)\n If there's no further questions...\n\n Macreedy grins harshly and exits. Tim watches him go, then \n slowly reaches for the bottle. He pauses, looks at his shaking \n hand", "INGS\n (meeting Macreedy's \n eyes)\n I never seen Komako in my life. \n Honest.\n\n MACREEDY\n (again pushes the \n bill toward Hastings)\n Then send that wire, and bring me \n the answer. You'll do that, won't \n you?\n\n HASTINGS\n (pauses, then worriedly \n picking up the bill)\n Yes", "ten o'clock he started drinking.\n\n MACREEDY\n Ten o'clock in the morning.\n\n PETE\n Yeah. Hector joined him, and Coley. \n Then Sam, and about nine p.m. -- me. \n We were all drunk -- patriotic drunk. \n We went out to Komako's for a little \n fun, I guess -- scare him a little.\n\n MACREEDY\n Did you know him?\n", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm" ], [ "Coley takes \n his limp left arm and spins him slowly but firmly around. \n The two men face each other.\n\n COLEY\n If I tied both hands...?\n\n Macreedy shakes free of Coley's grasp. Coley lunges. His big \n right fist streaks toward Macreedy's face. Macreedy ducks, \n weaving with the punch. He grabs Coley's belt, twisting \n Coley's body. The momentum of the swing throws Cole", "like to go hunting \n tomorrow? I'd be proud to have you \n as my guest.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks, but I'm afraid not.\n\n SMITH\n (with admirable candor)\n You mean, because of your arm?\n (slaps Macreedy's \n shoulder in a \n friendly, \n understanding gesture)\n I knew a man once, lost an arm in a \n threshing accident", "s nose. The \n cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following \n through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's cheekbone. \n Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned face, \n finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and \n backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in pain \n and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps back. \n He raises", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", ", a station wagon pulls up \n just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front fender \n is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood weaves \n an uneven course down his glossy flank from an unmistakable \n bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car; one \n of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward \n him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow \n pavement, picking at his nose with the det", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", "tough.\n\n DOC\n Yeah. He's wicked. He defends himself \n when he's attacked.\n\n Macreedy ignores the exchange of words. He walks across the \n frayed carpet to the nearest chair and drops into it. Doc, \n who has followed him, stands looking down at Macreedy for a \n long moment. Then...\n\n DOC\n (with some irritation)\n Well...? You going to just sit here \n and let time", "of them broken. Macreedy \n halts momentarily beside the well. Reaching out he touches \n the warped sun-beaten boards that cover the mouth. He removes \n one, and, picking up a pebble, drops it through the opening. \n There is a long beat and then, from far, far below we HEAR a \n faint PLUNK (o.s.). He replaces the board and walks to a \n broken wall. He touches the burned out frame of a picture. \n The frame falls to the ground,", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", " You think so?\n\n Slowly, his eyes still on Macreedy, Hector takes off his \n elaborate wrist watch and slides it gently into his pants \n pocket.\n\n HECTOR\n What else you got on your mind?\n\n Macreedy pauses and takes in the situation. He refuses to be \n baited.\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing, I guess.\n\n HECTOR\n If you had a mind, boy, you'd of", "slight concavity of the grave. \n The jeep is between them and the headlights -- between them \n and the source of the gunfire. Liz struggles to break away. \n Suddenly bullets kick up a storm around him. A bullet smashes \n into the flowers, exploding tiny cruel fragments of dirt \n into Macreedy's face. He gasps in pain, releasing Liz. He \n rubs his eyes as if to convince himself that he is not blind. \n Liz breaks from the grave. Now, five yards from Macreedy...", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n ", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul" ], [ " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", ", a station wagon pulls up \n just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front fender \n is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood weaves \n an uneven course down his glossy flank from an unmistakable \n bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car; one \n of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward \n him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow \n pavement, picking at his nose with the det", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", " MACREEDY\n I thought the tradition of the old \n West was hospitality.\n\n SMITH\n (with a sincere smile)\n I'm trying to be hospitable, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n (boyishly pushes his \n dusty cap back on \n his head)\n Going to be around for a while?\n\n MACREEDY\n Could be.\n\n SMITH\n How would you", "at him \n quizzically)\n I still need your help.\n\n LIZ\n (confused)\n I did what you said...\n\n SMITH\n You two started out in a car. That's \n the way you'll end up. Over a cliff, \n burning.\n (she tries to interrupt \n him, but he goes \n on...)\n You can blame that on Macreedy, too. \n He", "Tim almost \n contemptuously)\n ...and crawling on it. You going to \n stand by and watch forever?\n\n TIM\n (flatly)\n I ain't gonna watch, and I ain't \n gonna get into it, either.\n\n There is a moment of crashing silence. Then...\n\n TIM\n I'm gettin' out. I'm sorry, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n\n Slowly he", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", ", not once at \n the girl at his feet.\n\n LIZ\n (sadly, almost \n reproachfully)\n You shouldn't have done that...\n\n Smith pays no attention to her. He advances inexorably with \n rifle held at his hip. He fires at Macreedy.\n\n EXT. GRAVE\n\n Macreedy wipes the last of the fragments from his eyes. His \n face is still streaked with dirt and shale. He turns, \n", "(he gestures toward \n Hector, out cold)\n ...for depriving me of that pleasure.\n\n He heads toward the alley.\n\n EXT. ALLEY \n\n as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right, \n then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the \n street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off, \n starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle, falling \n heavily into the seat beside Liz", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul" ], [ "re a fool. \n If he finishes me, he's got to finish \n you.\n\n He looks up blindly into the headlights glaring from the \n granitic high ground some 60 yards away. His grip on the \n girl's shoulder is like a steel trap. He pushes her down \n beside Komako's grave, hugging the side of the jeep as a \n SHOT rips the gravel at their feet. Pulling the girl with \n him, he takes cover in the", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "\n\n SMITH\n (easily)\n A storm? About what?\n\n TIM\n I don't know. All I know, I don't \n want trouble around here.\n (pauses awkwardly, \n then)\n Never again.\n\n SMITH\n Trouble? You don't know anything \n about Komako, now do you, Tim?\n\n TIM\n I do not. That'", "ten o'clock he started drinking.\n\n MACREEDY\n Ten o'clock in the morning.\n\n PETE\n Yeah. Hector joined him, and Coley. \n Then Sam, and about nine p.m. -- me. \n We were all drunk -- patriotic drunk. \n We went out to Komako's for a little \n fun, I guess -- scare him a little.\n\n MACREEDY\n Did you know him?\n", "ornfully)\n What else is left for you?!\n (mounting anger)\n You're as dead as Komako, only you \n don't know it!\n (roaring)\n You also don't know that it's not \n enough to feel guilty. It's not enough \n to confess. It's not enough to say, \n \"Forgive me, I've done wrong.\"\n\n DOC\n Take it easy, Macreedy", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", "OT - DAY\n\n Tim sits in his chair, still staring sightlessly at the \n whiskey bottle. Smith enters. He looks from Tim to the bottle \n on the table, then back to Tim.\n\n SMITH\n (after a beat, \n disinterestedly)\n What did he want -- the stranger?\n\n TIM\n (abstractedly)\n He asked about Komako.\n (looking up at Smith)\n You think he'll kick up a storm?", "Hector whirls, going for his gun, Doc swings the hose with \n sudden deadly aim. It uncoils like a snake, and the brass \n nozzle crashes with a mighty thud across Hector's skull. \n Hector groans. He sinks unconscious to the floor. Doc stands \n there, paralyzed by his action. Pete tears toward the lobby.\n\n INT. LOBBY\n\n as Pete rushes in. He moves directly to the desk, leans over \n and presses the bu", "he takes the bottle \n from Macreedy)\n You move fast for a crip... for a \n big man.\n\n For a moment heavy silence. Finally...\n\n MACREEDY\n What about Komako?\n\n TIM\n (slowly)\n If there's no further questions...\n\n Macreedy grins harshly and exits. Tim watches him go, then \n slowly reaches for the bottle. He pauses, looks at his shaking \n hand", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "\n PETE\n We'd seen him around some, but none \n of us knew him. When he heard us \n coming, he locked the door. Smith \n started a fire. The Jap came running \n out. His clothes were burning. Smith \n shot him. I didn't even know Smith \n had a gun.\n\n MACREEDY\n Then you all got scared, buried him, \n kept quiet.\n\n Pete nods helplessly,", "slight concavity of the grave. \n The jeep is between them and the headlights -- between them \n and the source of the gunfire. Liz struggles to break away. \n Suddenly bullets kick up a storm around him. A bullet smashes \n into the flowers, exploding tiny cruel fragments of dirt \n into Macreedy's face. He gasps in pain, releasing Liz. He \n rubs his eyes as if to convince himself that he is not blind. \n Liz breaks from the grave. Now, five yards from Macreedy...", "C\n Are you going to tell him -- or you \n want me to?\n (beat)\n Smith owns Adobe Flat. He leased it \n to Komako -- thought he had cheated \n him, thought Komako could never even \n run stock without water. There was \n never any water on Adobe Flat. Komako \n dug a well, by hand. He must have \n went down one hundred and fifty feet.\n\n PETE\n " ], [ "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", " (to Smith)\n Wouldn't it be easier if you just \n waited till I turned my back?\n (looking toward the \n loafers at the bar, \n then back at Smith)\n Or are there too many witnesses \n present?\n\n Macreedy walks slowly toward him, holding the knife. The are \n only three feet apart. Smith's hand goes to a pocket, closes \n inside over the outline of a pistol. Sam glances from Macreedy \n ", "hidden, looks out grimly from a corner of \n the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling to \n follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the long, \n ugly muzzle of a rifle.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP \n\n as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and \n cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around to \n Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n (", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "He brakes the jeep before the garage. No one is there. He \n parks the vehicle, gets out and heads down the street.\n\n EXT. HOTEL\n\n Macreedy is about to go up the steps when he sees Coley's \n car at the curb. Both right fenders are creased. An ugly, \n jagged break has split the front bumper almost in half, one \n part angling crazily toward the sky, the other drooping in \n the dust of the road. Smith and Coley", "s nose. The \n cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following \n through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's cheekbone. \n Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned face, \n finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and \n backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in pain \n and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps back. \n He raises", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", ", not once at \n the girl at his feet.\n\n LIZ\n (sadly, almost \n reproachfully)\n You shouldn't have done that...\n\n Smith pays no attention to her. He advances inexorably with \n rifle held at his hip. He fires at Macreedy.\n\n EXT. GRAVE\n\n Macreedy wipes the last of the fragments from his eyes. His \n face is still streaked with dirt and shale. He turns, \n", ".\n\n MACREEDY\n I'd like to kill you now, but you \n caused too much pain to die quickly.\n (a beat)\n You'll be tried in a court of law. \n You'll be convicted by a jury. Then \n you'll die.\n\n He drives his right fist against Smith's chin. Smith's head \n snaps back as far as it can go and then wobbles to rest on \n his chest. He collapses", "inches \n from Macreedy's elbow. On the right front fender of the jeep \n Smith sits precariously, his shirt scorched and ragged. He \n wears a sullen expression of pained indifference.\n\n In b.g., as the jeep passes, isolated lights go on, first in \n Doc's house, then in two or three others. Macreedy is \n oblivious to them.\n\n EXT. JAIL - CLOSE SHOT - A MAN\n\n almost completely", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", "Coley takes \n his limp left arm and spins him slowly but firmly around. \n The two men face each other.\n\n COLEY\n If I tied both hands...?\n\n Macreedy shakes free of Coley's grasp. Coley lunges. His big \n right fist streaks toward Macreedy's face. Macreedy ducks, \n weaving with the punch. He grabs Coley's belt, twisting \n Coley's body. The momentum of the swing throws Cole", "to Smith to the unconscious Coley. He sidles toward the door \n and runs out fast. (NOTE: From this point to end of scene \n INTERCUT from Macreedy and Smith to exploit the reactions of \n the loafers at the bar.)\n\n SMITH\n (with effortless \n ferocity)\n You're still in trouble.\n\n MACREEDY\n So are you.\n (Smith snorts)\n Whatever happens -- you're" ], [ "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", ", pushes the towel \n from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob. He \n is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly, silently, \n he turns the knob and throws open the door.\n\n INT. HOTEL ROOM\n\n Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely \n furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents \n askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed sprawls \n Hector", " MACREEDY\n I thought the tradition of the old \n West was hospitality.\n\n SMITH\n (with a sincere smile)\n I'm trying to be hospitable, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n (boyishly pushes his \n dusty cap back on \n his head)\n Going to be around for a while?\n\n MACREEDY\n Could be.\n\n SMITH\n How would you", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "\n From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a figure \n starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT \n between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration, doesn't \n see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows down, \n suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy grins \n at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively. Hastings, \n with a parting glance, gallops up", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", " Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the hotel.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a tiny \n lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector strolls \n in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy chair. \n He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy. \n Macreedy waits patiently for", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", " You think so?\n\n Slowly, his eyes still on Macreedy, Hector takes off his \n elaborate wrist watch and slides it gently into his pants \n pocket.\n\n HECTOR\n What else you got on your mind?\n\n Macreedy pauses and takes in the situation. He refuses to be \n baited.\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing, I guess.\n\n HECTOR\n If you had a mind, boy, you'd of", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n " ], [ " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", "y)\n What do you want?\n\n MACREEDY\n My name's Macreedy. I came in on the \n Streamliner.\n\n Tim studies him, trying to focus.\n\n TIM\n You what?\n\n MACREEDY\n I said I came in...\n\n TIM\n (interrupting)\n You ain't from around here. Up Tucson \n way -- Phoenix? Mesa? You ain'", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n ", "\n From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a figure \n starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT \n between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration, doesn't \n see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows down, \n suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy grins \n at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively. Hastings, \n with a parting glance, gallops up", ", pushes the towel \n from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob. He \n is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly, silently, \n he turns the knob and throws open the door.\n\n INT. HOTEL ROOM\n\n Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely \n furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents \n askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed sprawls \n Hector", " Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the hotel.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a tiny \n lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector strolls \n in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy chair. \n He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy. \n Macreedy waits patiently for", ", a station wagon pulls up \n just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front fender \n is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood weaves \n an uneven course down his glossy flank from an unmistakable \n bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car; one \n of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward \n him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow \n pavement, picking at his nose with the det", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", " Now what do you suppose he'd want to \n see the Sheriff about?\n\n Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a \n shoulder. He looks out grimly.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching him \n out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression crossing \n his p", "Y\n\n heading toward the hotel. In b.g. is a relatively small farm \n equipment yard compressed between a general store (which \n Macreedy has just passed) and the hotel just ahead. In the \n yard are a few tractors, and among them huddles a tiny office. \n It is empty; the front window is thick with dust. On it, \n etched by an anonymous, childish finger, is a skull and \n crossbones. Running diagonally across is the printed legend:\n\n T.J", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "look it \n up myself.\n (emphatically)\n I wouldn't trust anybody around here, \n including me.\n\n Macreedy thinks it over and comes to a swift decision. He \n checks the phone book. Then, picking up phone...\n\n MACREEDY\n (to Doc)\n Thanks.\n (into receiver)\n 4-2-4.\n\n INT. TELEPHONE OPERATOR'S OFFICE\n\n a cubbyhole behind the", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "walks off. Doc looks after him grimly.\n\n DOC\n (calling)\n I hope you'll be seeing me.\n\n QUICK DISSOLVE:\n\n INT. TELEGRAPH AGENT'S OFFICE\n\n Macreedy stands at the high counter, writing on a Postal \n Telegraph blank. Behind the counter, watching him nervously, \n is Hastings. At the agent's elbow is a big pitcher with dew \n on the glass.", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns" ], [ " MACREEDY\n Italy.\n\n SMITH\n (sincerely)\n Tough. I tried to get in myself, the \n day after those rats bombed Pearl \n Harbor.\n\n MACREEDY\n What stopped you?\n\n SMITH\n The physical. They wouldn't take me. \n The morning after Pearl, I was the \n first man in line at Marine recruiting \n in Sand City.", "s nose. The \n cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following \n through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's cheekbone. \n Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned face, \n finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and \n backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in pain \n and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps back. \n He raises", "the Islands, for Mexico, Central \n America.\n\n DOC\n Why?\n\n MACREEDY\n (again shrugs)\n I don't know. I was looking for a \n place to get lost, I guess.\n\n DOC\n Why?\n\n MACREEDY\n (slapping his paralyzed \n arm with the whisky \n bottle)\n Because of this. I thought I'd never ", "like to go hunting \n tomorrow? I'd be proud to have you \n as my guest.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks, but I'm afraid not.\n\n SMITH\n (with admirable candor)\n You mean, because of your arm?\n (slaps Macreedy's \n shoulder in a \n friendly, \n understanding gesture)\n I knew a man once, lost an arm in a \n threshing accident", "Coley takes \n his limp left arm and spins him slowly but firmly around. \n The two men face each other.\n\n COLEY\n If I tied both hands...?\n\n Macreedy shakes free of Coley's grasp. Coley lunges. His big \n right fist streaks toward Macreedy's face. Macreedy ducks, \n weaving with the punch. He grabs Coley's belt, twisting \n Coley's body. The momentum of the swing throws Cole", "REEDY\n Had to. I had one last duty to perform \n before I resigned from the human \n race.\n\n DOC\n (quizzically)\n I thought you were going to Los \n Angeles, that hot-bed of pomp and \n vanity. Is that resigning from the \n human race?\n\n MACREEDY\n (shrugging)\n L.A.'s a good jumping off place -- \n for", "\n force, with the brutal abrasion of metal pounding metal.\n\n CLOSE SHOT - MACREEDY - (PROCESS)\n\n With one arm he works frantically to keep his under-sized \n car on the twisty road. He sees ahead a precipitous cliff \n falling off on an impossibly sharp curve. He makes a \n decision...\n\n Just ahead the gradient is comparatively gradual, however \n steep by normal standards. He swings the jeep off the road, \n onto", " COLEY\n You ought to be careful, man -- all \n that one-arm driving.\n\n MACREEDY\n I'd be glad to pay the damages.\n\n COLEY\n It's a threat to life and limb.\n\n MACREEDY\n Fortunately no one was hurt.\n\n COLEY\n You could get yourself killed that \n way -- nosin' all over the \n countryside.\n\n ", "EDY\n\n as he walks along. He feels the eyes of everyone following \n him, glaring at him. He halts, looks around. The townspeople \n continue to eye him brazenly, yet with an almost animal \n incuriosity. He grins and walks on past a cluster of five or \n six RFD mail boxes and a road sign [1], its paint peeling, \n its face punctured by three or four bullets from a drunk's \n pistol long ago.\n\n SHOT - MACREED", "of them broken. Macreedy \n halts momentarily beside the well. Reaching out he touches \n the warped sun-beaten boards that cover the mouth. He removes \n one, and, picking up a pebble, drops it through the opening. \n There is a long beat and then, from far, far below we HEAR a \n faint PLUNK (o.s.). He replaces the board and walks to a \n broken wall. He touches the burned out frame of a picture. \n The frame falls to the ground,", " searching for something, anything, to fight back with. Then \n he remembers... Stiffening, his body set, his eyes narrow, \n he moves purposefully toward the front of the jeep and crawls \n under it. Again Smith opens up on him. Bullet after bullet \n pours into the confined space, nicking the wall, ricocheting \n off the jeep with a frightening, fluttery, wheezing sound. \n The firing stops again and in the silence we HEAR a familiar \n TRICKLE", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "like wedge of a man with calm, piercing eyes. There is about \n him an air of monumental dependability and quiet humor, but \n his eyes are those of a man who has lately lived in somber \n familiarity with pain. His left arm hangs from his shoulder \n with that lifeless rigidity of paralysis, while the hand is \n hidden in his pocket.\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY AND PORTER\n\n The porter puts the suitcase on the platform. In the distance \n ", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", "leaving an un-scorched square \n on the surface of the wall. He goes past a solitary standing \n stone chimney. Suddenly he halts, arrested by something among \n the rubble, the rottenness and the ashes.\n\n REVERSE ANGLE - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Surrounded by the seared and blackened earth is a rectangular \n patch of lovely wild flowers.\n\n BACK TO MACREEDY\n\n studying the brightly colored flowers. His face is lined in \n thought", " He got water, plenty. Smith was pretty \n sore. He didn't like Japs anyway.\n\n DOC\n That's an understatement.\n\n PETE\n The day after Pearl Harbor, Smith \n went to Sand City.\n\n MACREEDY\n (interrupting)\n I know. To enlist. He was turned \n down.\n\n PETE\n He was sore when he got back. About \n ", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n COLEY\n Talking to you is like pulling teeth. \n You wear me out.\n (loudly, after a beat)\n You're a yellow-bellied Jap lover. \n Am I right or wrong?\n\n MACREEDY\n You're not only wrong -- you're wrong \n at the top of your voice.\n\n COLEY\n You don't", ".\n\n MACREEDY\n I'd like to kill you now, but you \n caused too much pain to die quickly.\n (a beat)\n You'll be tried in a court of law. \n You'll be convicted by a jury. Then \n you'll die.\n\n He drives his right fist against Smith's chin. Smith's head \n snaps back as far as it can go and then wobbles to rest on \n his chest. He collapses" ], [ " MACREEDY\n Italy.\n\n SMITH\n (sincerely)\n Tough. I tried to get in myself, the \n day after those rats bombed Pearl \n Harbor.\n\n MACREEDY\n What stopped you?\n\n SMITH\n The physical. They wouldn't take me. \n The morning after Pearl, I was the \n first man in line at Marine recruiting \n in Sand City.", " He got water, plenty. Smith was pretty \n sore. He didn't like Japs anyway.\n\n DOC\n That's an understatement.\n\n PETE\n The day after Pearl Harbor, Smith \n went to Sand City.\n\n MACREEDY\n (interrupting)\n I know. To enlist. He was turned \n down.\n\n PETE\n He was sore when he got back. About \n ", "wanted to tell \n Smith.\n\n HECTOR\n (explaining something \n he feels Pete already \n knows)\n Smith said he'd be here at midnight. \n He don't want to be disturbed.\n\n He jams a cigarette in his mouth. Pete watches him frantically \n as he searches his pockets for a match. He can't find one.\n\n HECTOR\n You got a match?\n\n PETE\n", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "as \n the things that make him mad. Nobody \n around here has been big enough to \n make you mad.\n\n MACREEDY\n What makes you mad, Mr. Smith?\n\n SMITH\n Me...? Nothing in particular.\n\n MACREEDY\n (bemused)\n I see. You're a big man, too. Only...\n (calmly)\n ...the Japanese make you mad...\n\n SM", "before Smith\n\n PETE\n (deferentially, \n gesturing toward the \n open register)\n That's all I know about him, Mr. \n Smith.\n\n Smith doesn't answer; he looks up thoughtfully. His eyes \n harden almost imperceptibly as he sees Coley, across the \n narrow room, looking out the window after Macreedy.\n\n SMITH\n (to Coley's back)\n Sit down.\n\n", "Cut it out, Tim.\n\n TIM\n You should!\n\n DOC\n In the name of well-adjusted manhood, \n snap out of it. You're going to get \n a complex or something.\n\n TIM\n Four years ago if I'd of done my \n job... if I'd of checked up and found \n out what happened. But I didn't! \n Just like Smith figured.\n\n DO", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "SMITH\n (scoffing)\n Kid! She must have strained every \n muscle in her head to get so stupid! \n Renting him a jeep! And Tim -- Tim, \n the rum-dum. Tim suddenly decides \n he's gotta act like a Sheriff.\n (to Coley, gesturing \n at Pete)\n And he says what's the danger.\n\n Brittle silence for a moment. Then...\n\n SMITH\n ", "\n PETE\n We'd seen him around some, but none \n of us knew him. When he heard us \n coming, he locked the door. Smith \n started a fire. The Jap came running \n out. His clothes were burning. Smith \n shot him. I didn't even know Smith \n had a gun.\n\n MACREEDY\n Then you all got scared, buried him, \n kept quiet.\n\n Pete nods helplessly,", " searching for something, anything, to fight back with. Then \n he remembers... Stiffening, his body set, his eyes narrow, \n he moves purposefully toward the front of the jeep and crawls \n under it. Again Smith opens up on him. Bullet after bullet \n pours into the confined space, nicking the wall, ricocheting \n off the jeep with a frightening, fluttery, wheezing sound. \n The firing stops again and in the silence we HEAR a familiar \n TRICKLE", "if the question in \n any way challenges his authority. He concludes not...\n\n SMITH\n He's a private detective.\n (beat)\n I drive to L.A. now and then.\n\n HECTOR\n (slightly worried)\n He'll get us the dope?\n\n SMITH\n He'll get us anything, for twenty \n bucks a day and expenses.\n (Hector frowns)\n H", " SMITH\n Sure. You only thought.\n\n COLEY\n (after a beat)\n What do we do?\n\n SMITH\n What do you do? You wait. Like Pete \n here. Right, Pete?\n\n Pete nods, his brow furrowed uncomfortably in a frown.\n\n SMITH\n That's all you do. But while you \n wait... I talk to him.\n\n At this point the brittle silence", ".\n\n MACREEDY\n I'd like to kill you now, but you \n caused too much pain to die quickly.\n (a beat)\n You'll be tried in a court of law. \n You'll be convicted by a jury. Then \n you'll die.\n\n He drives his right fist against Smith's chin. Smith's head \n snaps back as far as it can go and then wobbles to rest on \n his chest. He collapses", "41 -- just before \n Pearl Harbor. Three months later he \n was shipped to one of those relocation \n centers.\n (shaking his head)\n Tough.\n\n MACREEDY\n Which one did he go to?\n\n SMITH\n Who knows?\n\n MACREEDY\n You think maybe if I wrote him, the \n letter would be forwarded?\n\n SMITH\n I'm sure it would", "ITH\n That's different. After the sneak \n attack on Pearl Harbor... after \n Bataan...\n\n MACREEDY\n ...and Komako made you mad.\n\n SMITH\n It's the same thing.\n (scoffing)\n Loyal Japanese-Americans -- that's a \n laugh. They're mad dogs. Look at \n Corregidor, the death march.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "whips the fiery bottle like a football, hard and \n straight toward Smith. Smith fires once, fast and wild. The \n bottle crashes against the rocks at his feet and bursts with \n a shattering explosion. Smith screams as the razor-sharp \n slivers rip his flesh. In a puff of flame, his clothes ignite. \n He drops the rifle and goes down, squirming frantically on \n the black ashy ground.\n\n EXT. RANCH - FULL SHOT \n\n ", "LOBBY\n\n Doc sits deep in the battered upholstery of one of the chairs. \n He stares fiercely across the room at Smith who is on the \n couch, reading a neatly folded newspaper. Behind him at the \n clerk's desk, Pete is fitfully involved in a game of \n solitaire. At the foot of the stairs Hector is pouring change \n into a slot machine. It whines, grinds, and clicks with \n rhythmic monotony, but it never seems to pay", " SMITH\n Why not give it a whirl?\n (Macreedy turns)\n It'll help you pass the time...\n (continued; \n meaningfully)\n ...for a while.\n\n MACREEDY\n Not interested. I got other things \n to do.\n\n He turns and walks down the street.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n headed towards Doc's establishment. The building, which serves \n ", "\n to fight back.\n (gesturing with his \n hand to Pete)\n And then your friend Smith tried to \n kill me.\n (the muscles around \n Pete's mouth tighten)\n Funny, how a man clings to the earth \n when he feels there's a chance he \n may never see it again.\n\n DOC\n There's a difference between clinging \n to the earth...\n (eyeing" ], [ ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "he takes the bottle \n from Macreedy)\n You move fast for a crip... for a \n big man.\n\n For a moment heavy silence. Finally...\n\n MACREEDY\n What about Komako?\n\n TIM\n (slowly)\n If there's no further questions...\n\n Macreedy grins harshly and exits. Tim watches him go, then \n slowly reaches for the bottle. He pauses, looks at his shaking \n hand", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", "ornfully)\n What else is left for you?!\n (mounting anger)\n You're as dead as Komako, only you \n don't know it!\n (roaring)\n You also don't know that it's not \n enough to feel guilty. It's not enough \n to confess. It's not enough to say, \n \"Forgive me, I've done wrong.\"\n\n DOC\n Take it easy, Macreedy", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "INGS\n (meeting Macreedy's \n eyes)\n I never seen Komako in my life. \n Honest.\n\n MACREEDY\n (again pushes the \n bill toward Hastings)\n Then send that wire, and bring me \n the answer. You'll do that, won't \n you?\n\n HASTINGS\n (pauses, then worriedly \n picking up the bill)\n Yes", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", " You think so?\n\n Slowly, his eyes still on Macreedy, Hector takes off his \n elaborate wrist watch and slides it gently into his pants \n pocket.\n\n HECTOR\n What else you got on your mind?\n\n Macreedy pauses and takes in the situation. He refuses to be \n baited.\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing, I guess.\n\n HECTOR\n If you had a mind, boy, you'd of", " (to Smith)\n Wouldn't it be easier if you just \n waited till I turned my back?\n (looking toward the \n loafers at the bar, \n then back at Smith)\n Or are there too many witnesses \n present?\n\n Macreedy walks slowly toward him, holding the knife. The are \n only three feet apart. Smith's hand goes to a pocket, closes \n inside over the outline of a pistol. Sam glances from Macreedy \n " ], [ " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", "him.\n\n EXT. PLATFORM\n\n as Macreedy boards the train.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n The cars in front of the jail U-turn and start off with the \n prisoners. The people move silently toward the train.\n\n EXT. TRAIN\n\n Macreedy is at the passageway. Slowly the train moves out.\n\n INT. PASSAGEWAY OF TRAIN\n\n Macreedy and a conductor stand at the doorway. The town is \n seen behind them and", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", "Tim almost \n contemptuously)\n ...and crawling on it. You going to \n stand by and watch forever?\n\n TIM\n (flatly)\n I ain't gonna watch, and I ain't \n gonna get into it, either.\n\n There is a moment of crashing silence. Then...\n\n TIM\n I'm gettin' out. I'm sorry, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n\n Slowly he", "\n away.\n\n MACREEDY\n (looking around)\n I'll only be here twenty-four hours.\n\n CONDUCTOR\n In a place like this, it could be a \n lifetime.\n (turning to face \n Macreedy)\n Good luck, Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy nods his thanks. The conductor signals the engineer \n (o.s.) and steps on the train. The diesel's clax", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "\n Doc falls in step with him. The townspeople, still silent, \n trail after them\n\n MOVING SHOT - MACREEDY AND DOC\n\n in f.g., the townspeople behind them. In b.g., as we pass, \n we see the main street just as we saw it when Macreedy entered \n town a few short hours ago.\n\n MACREEDY\n (walking, after a \n beat, to Doc)\n Tim knows where to find me", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "(he gestures toward \n Hector, out cold)\n ...for depriving me of that pleasure.\n\n He heads toward the alley.\n\n EXT. ALLEY \n\n as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right, \n then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the \n street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off, \n starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle, falling \n heavily into the seat beside Liz", " Now what do you suppose he'd want to \n see the Sheriff about?\n\n Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a \n shoulder. He looks out grimly.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching him \n out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression crossing \n his p", "stand-off.\n\n DOC\n (to Macreedy)\n It's all right, Macreedy...\n\n He pulls Tim's Mackinaw to one side, revealing the silver-\n plated star pinned at the breast.\n\n DOC\n Old Tim here's got his badge back.\n\n Macreedy swings his rifle from Tim to Smith. Tim lowers his, \n stepping to one side, allowing Smith, covered by Macreedy, \n to enter the jail" ], [ " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", "him.\n\n EXT. PLATFORM\n\n as Macreedy boards the train.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n The cars in front of the jail U-turn and start off with the \n prisoners. The people move silently toward the train.\n\n EXT. TRAIN\n\n Macreedy is at the passageway. Slowly the train moves out.\n\n INT. PASSAGEWAY OF TRAIN\n\n Macreedy and a conductor stand at the doorway. The town is \n seen behind them and", "\n away.\n\n MACREEDY\n (looking around)\n I'll only be here twenty-four hours.\n\n CONDUCTOR\n In a place like this, it could be a \n lifetime.\n (turning to face \n Macreedy)\n Good luck, Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy nods his thanks. The conductor signals the engineer \n (o.s.) and steps on the train. The diesel's clax", "Tim almost \n contemptuously)\n ...and crawling on it. You going to \n stand by and watch forever?\n\n TIM\n (flatly)\n I ain't gonna watch, and I ain't \n gonna get into it, either.\n\n There is a moment of crashing silence. Then...\n\n TIM\n I'm gettin' out. I'm sorry, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n\n Slowly he", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", " You think so?\n\n Slowly, his eyes still on Macreedy, Hector takes off his \n elaborate wrist watch and slides it gently into his pants \n pocket.\n\n HECTOR\n What else you got on your mind?\n\n Macreedy pauses and takes in the situation. He refuses to be \n baited.\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing, I guess.\n\n HECTOR\n If you had a mind, boy, you'd of", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "on foot.\n\n DOC\n That's no good. You stray ten yards \n off Main Street, and you'll be stone, \n cold dead.\n (offers Macreedy a \n cigarette)\n That's the situation, in a nut.\n\n Macreedy takes the cigarette, lighting a match with one hand. \n He puts the fire to Doc's smoke and then lights his own. He \n inhales, exhales, thinking. Finally...\n\n ", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", " SMITH\n Why not give it a whirl?\n (Macreedy turns)\n It'll help you pass the time...\n (continued; \n meaningfully)\n ...for a while.\n\n MACREEDY\n Not interested. I got other things \n to do.\n\n He turns and walks down the street.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n headed towards Doc's establishment. The building, which serves \n ", "at him \n quizzically)\n I still need your help.\n\n LIZ\n (confused)\n I did what you said...\n\n SMITH\n You two started out in a car. That's \n the way you'll end up. Over a cliff, \n burning.\n (she tries to interrupt \n him, but he goes \n on...)\n You can blame that on Macreedy, too. \n He" ], [ "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", "slight concavity of the grave. \n The jeep is between them and the headlights -- between them \n and the source of the gunfire. Liz struggles to break away. \n Suddenly bullets kick up a storm around him. A bullet smashes \n into the flowers, exploding tiny cruel fragments of dirt \n into Macreedy's face. He gasps in pain, releasing Liz. He \n rubs his eyes as if to convince himself that he is not blind. \n Liz breaks from the grave. Now, five yards from Macreedy...", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "\n From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a figure \n starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT \n between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration, doesn't \n see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows down, \n suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy grins \n at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively. Hastings, \n with a parting glance, gallops up", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n ", "(he gestures toward \n Hector, out cold)\n ...for depriving me of that pleasure.\n\n He heads toward the alley.\n\n EXT. ALLEY \n\n as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right, \n then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the \n street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off, \n starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle, falling \n heavily into the seat beside Liz", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", ", not once at \n the girl at his feet.\n\n LIZ\n (sadly, almost \n reproachfully)\n You shouldn't have done that...\n\n Smith pays no attention to her. He advances inexorably with \n rifle held at his hip. He fires at Macreedy.\n\n EXT. GRAVE\n\n Macreedy wipes the last of the fragments from his eyes. His \n face is still streaked with dirt and shale. He turns, \n", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", " (to Smith)\n Wouldn't it be easier if you just \n waited till I turned my back?\n (looking toward the \n loafers at the bar, \n then back at Smith)\n Or are there too many witnesses \n present?\n\n Macreedy walks slowly toward him, holding the knife. The are \n only three feet apart. Smith's hand goes to a pocket, closes \n inside over the outline of a pistol. Sam glances from Macreedy \n ", " You think so?\n\n Slowly, his eyes still on Macreedy, Hector takes off his \n elaborate wrist watch and slides it gently into his pants \n pocket.\n\n HECTOR\n What else you got on your mind?\n\n Macreedy pauses and takes in the situation. He refuses to be \n baited.\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing, I guess.\n\n HECTOR\n If you had a mind, boy, you'd of" ], [ ".\n (he glances from Coley \n to Pete)\n Hastings has been in a sick sweat, \n running around, shooting off his \n face. Doc, for the first time in \n four years, gets snotty with me. \n Liz...\n (to Pete)\n ...your own sister -- acts like a \n fool.\n\n PETE\n (hotly)\n She's just a kid.\n\n ", ".\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n EXT. GARAGE - LIZ BROOKS\n\n A tall, attractive girl of twenty in dungarees and cotton \n shirt. She stands just outside the open barn-like door of \n the garage, staring, from the compulsive force of habit, at \n the endlessly receding tracks. The sultry wind, its gustiness \n slightly increased, blows through her fine dark hair.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from", "anguorously.\n\n LIZ\n (breathlessly)\n Get him! Get him now!\n\n SMITH\n (easily)\n First things first, honey.\n\n The girl is frightened by the menace in Smith's voice.\n\n LIZ\n (unsure, reaching out \n her hand)\n Help me up, Smitty.\n\n SMITH\n You were going to help me, Liz.\n (she looks", "of the block, saunters easily up to \n Liz's garage.\n\n EXT. LIZ'S GARAGE - FULL SHOT\n\n The garage, without a door, opens on the street. Against the \n front of the building is parked a battered bicycle. On one \n of the barnlike walls a boy of nine is drawing laboriously \n with a piece of chalk. He puts the last flourish to a skull \n and crossbones identical with that seen earlier on the window \n of the equipment yard office", "him. You're sort of independent and \n he's... he's...\n\n LIZ\n Weak. I know. That's why I couldn't \n leave him.\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n What did your brother do?\n\n LIZ\n He... I...\n (flaring again)\n What do you care? What do you care \n about Black Rock?\n\n MACREEDY", ", gripping her arm. She turns to face \n him, disturbed by his hardness of jaw and eye...\n\n LIZ\n Leggo! Leggo of me!\n\n Suddenly they are hit by a blinding pair of headlights like \n [...] The beams cut jaggedly through the night, throwing \n into sharp immediate relief the lava rocks, the broken \n windmill, the gutted house, the litter-strewn, unmarked grave \n at Adobe Flat.\n\n Liz throws away the", "reason, been violated.\n\n CLOSE SHOT - DOC VELIE\n\n as his mouth tightens. His air of placidity vanishes, leaving \n his features disturbed.\n\n CLOSE SHOT - LIZ BROOKS\n\n Her fine young face stiffens almost imperceptibly. Her eyes \n are coated with a vague emptiness. She seems confused as she \n halfturns toward the hotel.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT SHE SEES\n\n Coley Trimble and", "her words over the wire.\n\n WIDER ANGLE - FAVORING PETE\n\n he cuts Liz short...\n\n PETE\n (into phone)\n I don't care about Smith! Let him \n try to kill me -- I might as well be \n dead as...\n\n Again Liz's voice incoherent over the phone, and again...\n\n PETE\n (into phone, \n interrupting)\n Liz, Liz... There", "ulously devoted to law and order \n as you are.\n\n LIZ\n (hotly)\n Why don't you lay off! If you don't \n like it here, go back where you came \n from!\n\n MACREEDY\n Funny thing. They try to kill me, \n and you feel persecuted.\n\n LIZ\n I don't want to get involved.\n\n MACREEDY\n In", "long ago, now it's... it's...\n\n MACREEDY\n (evenly)\n Dead and buried?\n (a beat)\n Whatever did happen, you don't seem \n to like it. Why do you stick around?\n\n LIZ\n (after a beat)\n Because of my brother. Pete. He'd \n never leave.\n\n MACREEDY\n Didn't you ever think of going without \n ", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", "headlights.\n\n GO WITH LIZ\n\n She reaches the foot of the rocky ridge, with the two enormous \n eyes on top. She begins to climb, up... up...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Just a few more steps, honey.\n\n She is almost at the top; a vertically sheer rock about five \n feet high separates her from it. She looks up at Smith, \n towering over her at the edge of the precipice. He holds his \n rifle almost l", " MED. SHOT - SMITH AND LIZ\n\n Smith turns his attention to the girl...\n\n SMITH\n (slowly)\n You shouldn't have done that.\n\n LIZ\n I thought it would be better if he \n went out there and got done with it.\n (Smith looks at her \n sharply)\n I mean, what could he find out?\n\n For a moment Smith doesn't answer. Instead, with a half frown, ", " MACREEDY\n Miss Brooks.\n (softly)\n What's the matter with this town of \n yours?\n\n LIZ\n Nothing. It's none of your concern.\n\n MACREEDY\n Then why are they all so concerned \n about me?\n\n LIZ\n Am I concerned?\n\n MACREEDY\n No, you're not. But...\n\n LIZ\n", "?\n\n PETE\n (into phone, ignoring \n Doc)\n Hello, Liz. Now listen... I... 'm \n getting Macreedy out of town...\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY AND DOC\n\n as they exchange a glance. Doc takes a long, deep breath of \n relief. Macreedy frowns thoughtfully. He strains to listen \n to Liz, but all he (and we) can hear is the staccato jumble \n of", "'s not much of me \n left any more, but however little it \n is I won't waste it!\n (again Liz's voice \n briefly; then...)\n I'm telling you because we need your \n help.\n (again Liz's voice)\n ...No matter about the past -- you've \n got to do this! You'd be saving two \n lives, Liz. Macreedy's, and mine.\n (again Liz answers ", "the street as Macreedy slowly walks toward the \n hotel. Not a person has moved, each eye is glued on the \n stranger.\n\n The hollow rasp of Macreedy's tread on the wooden platform \n of the \"pavement\" seems shatteringly loud in the enveloping \n silence...\n\n CLOSE SHOT - LIZ\n\n as she follows the man's movement.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n CLOSE ANGLE - ON MACRE", "jeep toward Liz's garage. He \n looks neither to the right nor left.\n\n GROUP SHOT - FAVORING SMITH AND COLEY\n\n Standing on the porch of the hotel, watching. Smith's face \n compresses, and his eyes swivel to rest on Coley's with cold, \n contemptuous anger. Coley licks his lips uneasily. Smith \n turns and enters the hotel. Coley meekly follows.\n\n FULL SHOT - MACREEDY\n\n ", "the lube pit.\n\n LIZ\n (over her shoulders)\n The jeep's not for rent.\n\n MACREEDY\n It was, just a few hours ago.\n\n LIZ\n (flatly)\n Things change.\n\n MACREEDY\n (with grim amusement)\n Sure. And Smith is the kid who changes \n 'em.\n\n She doesn't answer. Macreedy goes to her.\n\n", ", looks o.s. toward the open garage \n doors...\n\n WHAT SHE SEES - MACREEDY \n\n entering the scene, stopping to look at Liz's jeep parked in \n front of the wide doors. He turns his eyes vaguely in the \n direction of Liz, but he doesn't see her in the shadows behind \n the car on the rack, He advances a step, pausing...\n\n MACREEDY\n Anybody home?\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted" ], [ "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "slight concavity of the grave. \n The jeep is between them and the headlights -- between them \n and the source of the gunfire. Liz struggles to break away. \n Suddenly bullets kick up a storm around him. A bullet smashes \n into the flowers, exploding tiny cruel fragments of dirt \n into Macreedy's face. He gasps in pain, releasing Liz. He \n rubs his eyes as if to convince himself that he is not blind. \n Liz breaks from the grave. Now, five yards from Macreedy...", ", not once at \n the girl at his feet.\n\n LIZ\n (sadly, almost \n reproachfully)\n You shouldn't have done that...\n\n Smith pays no attention to her. He advances inexorably with \n rifle held at his hip. He fires at Macreedy.\n\n EXT. GRAVE\n\n Macreedy wipes the last of the fragments from his eyes. His \n face is still streaked with dirt and shale. He turns, \n", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", " MED. SHOT - SMITH AND LIZ\n\n Smith turns his attention to the girl...\n\n SMITH\n (slowly)\n You shouldn't have done that.\n\n LIZ\n I thought it would be better if he \n went out there and got done with it.\n (Smith looks at her \n sharply)\n I mean, what could he find out?\n\n For a moment Smith doesn't answer. Instead, with a half frown, ", "ignition key. Macreedy bails out of the \n jeep, still holding the girl.\n\n CLOSE TWO SHOT - LIZ AND MACREEDY\n\n as they fall to the earth. Macreedy pins her down. Then in \n quick succession, four emphatically loud SHOTS from a rifle \n squirt into the shale around them.\n\n MACREEDY\n (harshly, through his \n teeth)\n You're stupid, Liz. You'", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", ".\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n EXT. GARAGE - LIZ BROOKS\n\n A tall, attractive girl of twenty in dungarees and cotton \n shirt. She stands just outside the open barn-like door of \n the garage, staring, from the compulsive force of habit, at \n the endlessly receding tracks. The sultry wind, its gustiness \n slightly increased, blows through her fine dark hair.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from", "jeep toward Liz's garage. He \n looks neither to the right nor left.\n\n GROUP SHOT - FAVORING SMITH AND COLEY\n\n Standing on the porch of the hotel, watching. Smith's face \n compresses, and his eyes swivel to rest on Coley's with cold, \n contemptuous anger. Coley licks his lips uneasily. Smith \n turns and enters the hotel. Coley meekly follows.\n\n FULL SHOT - MACREEDY\n\n ", "(he gestures toward \n Hector, out cold)\n ...for depriving me of that pleasure.\n\n He heads toward the alley.\n\n EXT. ALLEY \n\n as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right, \n then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the \n street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off, \n starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle, falling \n heavily into the seat beside Liz", "anguorously.\n\n LIZ\n (breathlessly)\n Get him! Get him now!\n\n SMITH\n (easily)\n First things first, honey.\n\n The girl is frightened by the menace in Smith's voice.\n\n LIZ\n (unsure, reaching out \n her hand)\n Help me up, Smitty.\n\n SMITH\n You were going to help me, Liz.\n (she looks", "her words over the wire.\n\n WIDER ANGLE - FAVORING PETE\n\n he cuts Liz short...\n\n PETE\n (into phone)\n I don't care about Smith! Let him \n try to kill me -- I might as well be \n dead as...\n\n Again Liz's voice incoherent over the phone, and again...\n\n PETE\n (into phone, \n interrupting)\n Liz, Liz... There", "reason, been violated.\n\n CLOSE SHOT - DOC VELIE\n\n as his mouth tightens. His air of placidity vanishes, leaving \n his features disturbed.\n\n CLOSE SHOT - LIZ BROOKS\n\n Her fine young face stiffens almost imperceptibly. Her eyes \n are coated with a vague emptiness. She seems confused as she \n halfturns toward the hotel.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT SHE SEES\n\n Coley Trimble and", "ulously devoted to law and order \n as you are.\n\n LIZ\n (hotly)\n Why don't you lay off! If you don't \n like it here, go back where you came \n from!\n\n MACREEDY\n Funny thing. They try to kill me, \n and you feel persecuted.\n\n LIZ\n I don't want to get involved.\n\n MACREEDY\n In", "headlights.\n\n GO WITH LIZ\n\n She reaches the foot of the rocky ridge, with the two enormous \n eyes on top. She begins to climb, up... up...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Just a few more steps, honey.\n\n She is almost at the top; a vertically sheer rock about five \n feet high separates her from it. She looks up at Smith, \n towering over her at the edge of the precipice. He holds his \n rifle almost l", "Hector whirls, going for his gun, Doc swings the hose with \n sudden deadly aim. It uncoils like a snake, and the brass \n nozzle crashes with a mighty thud across Hector's skull. \n Hector groans. He sinks unconscious to the floor. Doc stands \n there, paralyzed by his action. Pete tears toward the lobby.\n\n INT. LOBBY\n\n as Pete rushes in. He moves directly to the desk, leans over \n and presses the bu", "the street as Macreedy slowly walks toward the \n hotel. Not a person has moved, each eye is glued on the \n stranger.\n\n The hollow rasp of Macreedy's tread on the wooden platform \n of the \"pavement\" seems shatteringly loud in the enveloping \n silence...\n\n CLOSE SHOT - LIZ\n\n as she follows the man's movement.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n CLOSE ANGLE - ON MACRE", ".\n (he glances from Coley \n to Pete)\n Hastings has been in a sick sweat, \n running around, shooting off his \n face. Doc, for the first time in \n four years, gets snotty with me. \n Liz...\n (to Pete)\n ...your own sister -- acts like a \n fool.\n\n PETE\n (hotly)\n She's just a kid.\n\n ", ", gripping her arm. She turns to face \n him, disturbed by his hardness of jaw and eye...\n\n LIZ\n Leggo! Leggo of me!\n\n Suddenly they are hit by a blinding pair of headlights like \n [...] The beams cut jaggedly through the night, throwing \n into sharp immediate relief the lava rocks, the broken \n windmill, the gutted house, the litter-strewn, unmarked grave \n at Adobe Flat.\n\n Liz throws away the" ], [ "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", "hidden, looks out grimly from a corner of \n the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling to \n follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the long, \n ugly muzzle of a rifle.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP \n\n as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and \n cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around to \n Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n (", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "come out of the hotel. \n They stand on the porch, watching Macreedy as he in turn \n watches the car. They exchange a glance. Smith nods, so...\n\n COLEY\n Well, if it's not Macreedy - the \n world's champion road hog.\n\n He walks down the steps to the street, joining Macreedy. \n Smith remains on the porch.\n\n MACREEDY\n Yeah. It's a small world.\n\n ", " Now what do you suppose he'd want to \n see the Sheriff about?\n\n Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a \n shoulder. He looks out grimly.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching him \n out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression crossing \n his p", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", ". Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair staring \n blindly ahead, seeing nothing.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty \n street. As he reaches the hotel...\n\n SMITH\n (o.s.)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to meet \n him.\n\n MACREEDY\n That's the friendliest word I'", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "at him \n quizzically)\n I still need your help.\n\n LIZ\n (confused)\n I did what you said...\n\n SMITH\n You two started out in a car. That's \n the way you'll end up. Over a cliff, \n burning.\n (she tries to interrupt \n him, but he goes \n on...)\n You can blame that on Macreedy, too. \n He", "him.\n\n EXT. PLATFORM\n\n as Macreedy boards the train.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n The cars in front of the jail U-turn and start off with the \n prisoners. The people move silently toward the train.\n\n EXT. TRAIN\n\n Macreedy is at the passageway. Slowly the train moves out.\n\n INT. PASSAGEWAY OF TRAIN\n\n Macreedy and a conductor stand at the doorway. The town is \n seen behind them and", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "He brakes the jeep before the garage. No one is there. He \n parks the vehicle, gets out and heads down the street.\n\n EXT. HOTEL\n\n Macreedy is about to go up the steps when he sees Coley's \n car at the curb. Both right fenders are creased. An ugly, \n jagged break has split the front bumper almost in half, one \n part angling crazily toward the sky, the other drooping in \n the dust of the road. Smith and Coley", ", not once at \n the girl at his feet.\n\n LIZ\n (sadly, almost \n reproachfully)\n You shouldn't have done that...\n\n Smith pays no attention to her. He advances inexorably with \n rifle held at his hip. He fires at Macreedy.\n\n EXT. GRAVE\n\n Macreedy wipes the last of the fragments from his eyes. His \n face is still streaked with dirt and shale. He turns, \n", "(he gestures toward \n Hector, out cold)\n ...for depriving me of that pleasure.\n\n He heads toward the alley.\n\n EXT. ALLEY \n\n as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right, \n then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the \n street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off, \n starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle, falling \n heavily into the seat beside Liz", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm" ], [ "him.\n\n EXT. PLATFORM\n\n as Macreedy boards the train.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n The cars in front of the jail U-turn and start off with the \n prisoners. The people move silently toward the train.\n\n EXT. TRAIN\n\n Macreedy is at the passageway. Slowly the train moves out.\n\n INT. PASSAGEWAY OF TRAIN\n\n Macreedy and a conductor stand at the doorway. The town is \n seen behind them and", "\n away.\n\n MACREEDY\n (looking around)\n I'll only be here twenty-four hours.\n\n CONDUCTOR\n In a place like this, it could be a \n lifetime.\n (turning to face \n Macreedy)\n Good luck, Mr. Macreedy.\n\n Macreedy nods his thanks. The conductor signals the engineer \n (o.s.) and steps on the train. The diesel's clax", "to talk...\n\n HASTINGS\n You for Black Rock?\n\n MACREEDY\n (easily)\n That's right.\n\n HASTINGS\n (uneasily)\n There must be some mistake. I'm \n Hastings, the telegraph agent. Nobody \n told me the train was stopping.\n\n MACREEDY\n (with a ghost of a \n grin)\n They didn't", "neat and conservative. The door \n opens (o.s.) and the people look up, their eyes lighting \n with expectancy.\n\n WHAT THEY SEE\n\n Macreedy comes out of the door, carrying his suitcase. For a \n moment he pauses, looking at the uplifted faces of the people \n in the street. In the distance we HEAR the horn of a stream-\n liner. Macreedy goes down the steps, skirts the watching \n crowd and heads for the railroad station. Almost immediately", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n Macreedy starts to say something, then stops. Reconsidering...\n\n MACREEDY\n One thing about Black Rock -- \n everybody's polite. Makes for gracious \n living.\n\n TIM\n Nobody asked you here.\n\n MACREEDY\n How do you know?\n (he moves toward the \n door, with a rueful \n grin)\n\n TIM\n (starting after him)", "achment of a child. \n The other man is broad and excessively masculine as he swings \n out from behind the wheel. He walks around the car, joining \n Coley at the curb. Macreedy comes on. The man with Coley \n looks at the stranger with colossal indifference, as \n expressionless as the soil of Black Rock. His handsome face, \n under a dusty hunting cap, is taut and hard and wind-shaven. \n Next to Coley he stands motionless, except for the wisp", ", a station wagon pulls up \n just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front fender \n is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood weaves \n an uneven course down his glossy flank from an unmistakable \n bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car; one \n of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward \n him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow \n pavement, picking at his nose with the det", "y)\n What do you want?\n\n MACREEDY\n My name's Macreedy. I came in on the \n Streamliner.\n\n Tim studies him, trying to focus.\n\n TIM\n You what?\n\n MACREEDY\n I said I came in...\n\n TIM\n (interrupting)\n You ain't from around here. Up Tucson \n way -- Phoenix? Mesa? You ain'", "the town and its people are seen staring silently, \n motionlessly. The big man glances toward them. He smiles a \n sad, distasteful greeting to the town, its wretched dust. \n its mean, modest buildings. The porter disappears into the \n train as the conductor enters scene. He turns slowly, \n following Macreedy's gaze...\n\n CONDUCTOR\n (softly, staring at \n the towns people)\n Man. They look woebegone and far ", " Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the hotel.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a tiny \n lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector strolls \n in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy chair. \n He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy. \n Macreedy waits patiently for", "\n From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a figure \n starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT \n between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration, doesn't \n see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows down, \n suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy grins \n at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively. Hastings, \n with a parting glance, gallops up", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n ", "\n walks down, carrying his suitcase. He goes to Pete at the \n clerk's desk.\n\n MACREEDY\n Anything for me?\n\n PETE\n Nothing.\n\n MACREEDY\n Any message -- a telegram?\n\n PETE\n (returning to his \n cards)\n Nothing.\n\n As Macreedy turns from the desk, Doc joins him.\n\n DOC\n (", "hidden, looks out grimly from a corner of \n the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling to \n follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the long, \n ugly muzzle of a rifle.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP \n\n as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and \n cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around to \n Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n (", " Now what do you suppose he'd want to \n see the Sheriff about?\n\n Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a \n shoulder. He looks out grimly.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching him \n out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression crossing \n his p", "the people standing there. In the \n distance, Tim's car recedes.\n\n CONDUCTOR\n (curiously)\n What's the excitement? What happened?\n\n MACREEDY\n A shooting.\n\n CONDUCTOR\n I knew it was something. First time \n a streamliner stopped here in four \n years.\n\n MACREEDY\n Second time.\n\n He walks into the train.\n\n LONG SH" ], [ ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", "of \n smoke from a black Cuban cigarette between his thin lips. In \n b.g., the loafers who had been ensconced in the hotel lobby \n move out the door and stand on the porch. They watch Macreedy, \n Coley and Reno Smith, the handsome, taut-faced man. Silence \n soems to settle over everything. It is Macreedy who breaks \n it...\n\n MACREEDY\n (grinning wearily at \n Coley)\n ", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", "ornfully)\n What else is left for you?!\n (mounting anger)\n You're as dead as Komako, only you \n don't know it!\n (roaring)\n You also don't know that it's not \n enough to feel guilty. It's not enough \n to confess. It's not enough to say, \n \"Forgive me, I've done wrong.\"\n\n DOC\n Take it easy, Macreedy", " MACREEDY\n I thought the tradition of the old \n West was hospitality.\n\n SMITH\n (with a sincere smile)\n I'm trying to be hospitable, Mr. \n Macreedy.\n (boyishly pushes his \n dusty cap back on \n his head)\n Going to be around for a while?\n\n MACREEDY\n Could be.\n\n SMITH\n How would you", "hidden, looks out grimly from a corner of \n the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling to \n follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the long, \n ugly muzzle of a rifle.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP \n\n as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and \n cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around to \n Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n (", " Now what do you suppose he'd want to \n see the Sheriff about?\n\n Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a \n shoulder. He looks out grimly.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching him \n out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression crossing \n his p", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "atively, then...\n\n SMITH\n (calling)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n (reasonably, as \n Macreedy turns toward \n him)\n I'd like to ask you a few questions... \n as long as you're around...\n\n MACREEDY\n (walking up steps)\n I'm around all right.\n\n He stands facing Smith on the porch, then...\n\n MACREEDY\n " ], [ "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", ". Then Macreedy goes to his \n suitcase and throws his clothes in it. As he goes out the \n door...\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL LOBBY - DAY - FULL SHOT - SAM AND THE LOAFERS\n\n They sit around, each with his own thoughts. They are \n generally stolid; only Sam seems nervous. He looks up eagerly \n as Doc Velie enters the lobby. As", "on foot.\n\n DOC\n That's no good. You stray ten yards \n off Main Street, and you'll be stone, \n cold dead.\n (offers Macreedy a \n cigarette)\n That's the situation, in a nut.\n\n Macreedy takes the cigarette, lighting a match with one hand. \n He puts the fire to Doc's smoke and then lights his own. He \n inhales, exhales, thinking. Finally...\n\n ", " Now what do you suppose he'd want to \n see the Sheriff about?\n\n Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a \n shoulder. He looks out grimly.\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching him \n out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression crossing \n his p", "tough.\n\n DOC\n Yeah. He's wicked. He defends himself \n when he's attacked.\n\n Macreedy ignores the exchange of words. He walks across the \n frayed carpet to the nearest chair and drops into it. Doc, \n who has followed him, stands looking down at Macreedy for a \n long moment. Then...\n\n DOC\n (with some irritation)\n Well...? You going to just sit here \n and let time", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "\n Doc falls in step with him. The townspeople, still silent, \n trail after them\n\n MOVING SHOT - MACREEDY AND DOC\n\n in f.g., the townspeople behind them. In b.g., as we pass, \n we see the main street just as we saw it when Macreedy entered \n town a few short hours ago.\n\n MACREEDY\n (walking, after a \n beat, to Doc)\n Tim knows where to find me", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "\n walks down, carrying his suitcase. He goes to Pete at the \n clerk's desk.\n\n MACREEDY\n Anything for me?\n\n PETE\n Nothing.\n\n MACREEDY\n Any message -- a telegram?\n\n PETE\n (returning to his \n cards)\n Nothing.\n\n As Macreedy turns from the desk, Doc joins him.\n\n DOC\n (", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", ", Doc perplexed, at Macreedy's violence. They stare \n at him...\n\n Macreedy's eyes are murky. The creases between the brows \n over his nose are deep. His nostrils move in and out with \n his breathing. Pete and Doc regard him with growing \n uneasiness. Rage comes into Macreedy's face, turning it a \n painful red.\n\n MACREEDY\n But maybe I'm wrong. Go on -- drink.\n (sc", "?\n\n PETE\n (into phone, ignoring \n Doc)\n Hello, Liz. Now listen... I... 'm \n getting Macreedy out of town...\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY AND DOC\n\n as they exchange a glance. Doc takes a long, deep breath of \n relief. Macreedy frowns thoughtfully. He strains to listen \n to Liz, but all he (and we) can hear is the staccato jumble \n of", "walks off. Doc looks after him grimly.\n\n DOC\n (calling)\n I hope you'll be seeing me.\n\n QUICK DISSOLVE:\n\n INT. TELEGRAPH AGENT'S OFFICE\n\n Macreedy stands at the high counter, writing on a Postal \n Telegraph blank. Behind the counter, watching him nervously, \n is Hastings. At the agent's elbow is a big pitcher with dew \n on the glass.", "What kind of prescription \n you got for that?\n\n DOC\n I don't know. I've never been able \n to find one for myself.\n\n Tim takes off his badge and throws it on the desk.\n\n DOC\n Only one thing -- don't quit, Tim.\n\n TIM\n Why not?\n\n DOC\n Maybe this feller Macreedy has the \n prescription.\n\n They look at each other", " Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the hotel.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a tiny \n lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector strolls \n in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy chair. \n He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy. \n Macreedy waits patiently for", " You're in deep, too.\n (grins hard)\n Like I said, it's getting tougher \n and tougher.\n (to Tim)\n Sheriff, you'd better do something \n about this.\n\n Tim hesitates, blinking his eyes worriedly, shifting from \n one stockinged foot to the other. Smith watches him insolently \n as he takes the message from Macreedy and gestures with it \n vaguely...\n\n ", " toward the hotel \n stairs o.s.)\n ...I'd ask him.\n\n Sam follows Doc's gaze...\n\n REVERSE SHOT - WHAT THEY SEE 35X1\n\n Macreedy walks down the stairs. Pete looks up from the desk. \n He is about to dart behind the partition when...\n\n MACREEDY\n Hey! Hold it!\n\n He walks to the desk, smiling at Pete. In b.g., Doc, Sam and \n the", "have a car.\n\n DOC\n (to Macreedy)\n You might try the garage at the end \n of the street.\n\n Macreedy pauses, looking at Doc, who blandly returns his \n stare.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks.\n\n Doc nods. Macreedy smiles and walks toward the door; Pete, \n Doc et al watching him. He goes out.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n As Macreedy walks down hotel steps" ], [ "Coley takes \n his limp left arm and spins him slowly but firmly around. \n The two men face each other.\n\n COLEY\n If I tied both hands...?\n\n Macreedy shakes free of Coley's grasp. Coley lunges. His big \n right fist streaks toward Macreedy's face. Macreedy ducks, \n weaving with the punch. He grabs Coley's belt, twisting \n Coley's body. The momentum of the swing throws Cole", "like to go hunting \n tomorrow? I'd be proud to have you \n as my guest.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks, but I'm afraid not.\n\n SMITH\n (with admirable candor)\n You mean, because of your arm?\n (slaps Macreedy's \n shoulder in a \n friendly, \n understanding gesture)\n I knew a man once, lost an arm in a \n threshing accident", "s nose. The \n cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following \n through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's cheekbone. \n Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned face, \n finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and \n backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in pain \n and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps back. \n He raises", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", ", a station wagon pulls up \n just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front fender \n is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood weaves \n an uneven course down his glossy flank from an unmistakable \n bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car; one \n of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward \n him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow \n pavement, picking at his nose with the det", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", "of them broken. Macreedy \n halts momentarily beside the well. Reaching out he touches \n the warped sun-beaten boards that cover the mouth. He removes \n one, and, picking up a pebble, drops it through the opening. \n There is a long beat and then, from far, far below we HEAR a \n faint PLUNK (o.s.). He replaces the board and walks to a \n broken wall. He touches the burned out frame of a picture. \n The frame falls to the ground,", "slight concavity of the grave. \n The jeep is between them and the headlights -- between them \n and the source of the gunfire. Liz struggles to break away. \n Suddenly bullets kick up a storm around him. A bullet smashes \n into the flowers, exploding tiny cruel fragments of dirt \n into Macreedy's face. He gasps in pain, releasing Liz. He \n rubs his eyes as if to convince himself that he is not blind. \n Liz breaks from the grave. Now, five yards from Macreedy...", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", ". He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He \n examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a flower \n between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy in a \n long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren wasteland. \n CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and shielded \n from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.\n\n ", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "He brakes the jeep before the garage. No one is there. He \n parks the vehicle, gets out and heads down the street.\n\n EXT. HOTEL\n\n Macreedy is about to go up the steps when he sees Coley's \n car at the curb. Both right fenders are creased. An ugly, \n jagged break has split the front bumper almost in half, one \n part angling crazily toward the sky, the other drooping in \n the dust of the road. Smith and Coley", "said I had too many witnesses.\n\n LIZ\n (dry whisper)\n But why me? Why start with me?\n\n SMITH\n I got to start with somebody.\n\n He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz. Her \n eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running crazily \n down the steep incline.\n\n LIZ\n (yelling wildly)\n Macreedy! Macreedy!\n\n A", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", "to be going any place.\n\n He takes the other chair.\n\n SMITH\n (after a pause)\n I hear you handle a jeep real well.\n\n MACREEDY\n I have a way with jeeps. A certain \n familiarity.\n\n SMITH\n I think I understand. You're an Army \n man.\n (looking at Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n Where'd you get it?\n\n", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", "hidden, looks out grimly from a corner of \n the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling to \n follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the long, \n ugly muzzle of a rifle.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP \n\n as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and \n cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around to \n Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n (", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He" ], [ ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "ornfully)\n What else is left for you?!\n (mounting anger)\n You're as dead as Komako, only you \n don't know it!\n (roaring)\n You also don't know that it's not \n enough to feel guilty. It's not enough \n to confess. It's not enough to say, \n \"Forgive me, I've done wrong.\"\n\n DOC\n Take it easy, Macreedy", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", "he takes the bottle \n from Macreedy)\n You move fast for a crip... for a \n big man.\n\n For a moment heavy silence. Finally...\n\n MACREEDY\n What about Komako?\n\n TIM\n (slowly)\n If there's no further questions...\n\n Macreedy grins harshly and exits. Tim watches him go, then \n slowly reaches for the bottle. He pauses, looks at his shaking \n hand", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "INGS\n (meeting Macreedy's \n eyes)\n I never seen Komako in my life. \n Honest.\n\n MACREEDY\n (again pushes the \n bill toward Hastings)\n Then send that wire, and bring me \n the answer. You'll do that, won't \n you?\n\n HASTINGS\n (pauses, then worriedly \n picking up the bill)\n Yes", "ply)\n Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?\n\n He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For a \n moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with \n herself. Then he turns and goes out.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY\n\n walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of hotel.\n\n EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL\n\n where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches Macreedy \n specul", "is cracked by...\n\n DOC\n (o.s.)\n Hey!\n\n Smith and those around him look off in the direction of Doc.\n\n DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW\n\n peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the \n others.\n\n DOC\n Now what do you know?\n (beaming)\n Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for \n the jail.\n (impishly)\n ", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", ".g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and Hastings. \n SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the \n horizon.\n\n The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...\n\n SMITH\n (turning to Coley)\n Now, Coley...?\n\n COLEY\n (takes a breath, then)\n I think Macreedy's a nothing. A \n nobody.\n\n SMITH\n Is he", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns" ], [ ".\n\n Macreedy reaches for the phone book.\n\n DOC\n It's 4-2-4.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pausing)\n What's 4-2-4?\n\n DOC\n If I've got you pegged -- and I think \n I have -- you're calling the State \n Police. But if I was you -- and I'm \n purely glad I'm not -- I'd", "look it \n up myself.\n (emphatically)\n I wouldn't trust anybody around here, \n including me.\n\n Macreedy thinks it over and comes to a swift decision. He \n checks the phone book. Then, picking up phone...\n\n MACREEDY\n (to Doc)\n Thanks.\n (into receiver)\n 4-2-4.\n\n INT. TELEPHONE OPERATOR'S OFFICE\n\n a cubbyhole behind the", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", " Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the hotel.\n\n OUT\n\n Sequence omitted from original script.\n\n INT. HOTEL\n\n It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a tiny \n lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector strolls \n in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy chair. \n He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy. \n Macreedy waits patiently for", " (he clicks off the \n instrument)\n\n INT. DOC'S LAB\n\n Macreedy slowly puts down the phone. Doc sips his milk, all \n the while staring queasily over the glass at Macreedy. He \n puts it down, his gaze still fixed on the stranger...\n\n DOC\n (sing-song)\n I know -- don't tell me -- lines all \n busy. They'll be busy all day.\n\n MACREED", "?\n\n PETE\n (into phone, ignoring \n Doc)\n Hello, Liz. Now listen... I... 'm \n getting Macreedy out of town...\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY AND DOC\n\n as they exchange a glance. Doc takes a long, deep breath of \n relief. Macreedy frowns thoughtfully. He strains to listen \n to Liz, but all he (and we) can hear is the staccato jumble \n of", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "atively, then...\n\n SMITH\n (calling)\n Mr. Macreedy.\n (reasonably, as \n Macreedy turns toward \n him)\n I'd like to ask you a few questions... \n as long as you're around...\n\n MACREEDY\n (walking up steps)\n I'm around all right.\n\n He stands facing Smith on the porch, then...\n\n MACREEDY\n ", " Maybe...\n\n DOC\n Maybe what?\n\n MACREEDY\n If I can't get out of town, maybe I \n can get the state cops in.\n\n DOC\n (irritably)\n You tried the phone, didn't you? You \n know what happened, don't you?\n\n MACREEDY\n There's another way. I'll be seeing \n you, Doc.\n\n He", "\n\n LIZ\n (calling toward the \n headlights)\n Smitty! Smitty!\n\n SMITH'S VOICE\n (o.s.)\n I'm here, honey. Just head for the \n car.\n\n Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...\n\n LIZ\n (an almost bantering \n voice)\n So long, Macreedy.\n\n She starts toward the", "It holds a pale liquid and a chunk of ice. His \n eyes on Macreedy, Hastings refills a glass tumbler. He takes \n a gulp as Macreedy puts down the pencil and pushes the message \n toward him. Now Hastings puts down his glass, picks up the \n form and scans it hurriedly. He looks at Macreedy, eyes glazed \n with anxiety...\n\n HASTINGS\n You notifyin' the state po-lice?\n\n MACREED", "Where's the man it belongs to?\n\n T.J.\n Ain't a man.\n\n He pauses. As Macreedy opens his mouth to interrogate \n further...\n\n T.J.\n Lady runs this garage.\n\n Again a pause. T.J. has just completed the final letter of \n the word \"HATES\". And again as Macreedy opens his mouth...\n\n T.J.\n She's not here.\n\n ", "\n and...)\n All right. Yeah... I've told him \n everything.\n\n Slowly he replaces the phone on the switch-board. He comes \n around from behind the desk, joining Macreedy and Doc.\n\n PETE\n (flatly)\n She'll be here in five minutes.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks, Pete. Thanks very much.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n INT. HOTEL LOBBY", " Snort?\n\n MACREEDY\n No, thanks.\n\n TIM\n Don't blame you. It's awful.\n\n He takes a belt that would incapacitate half the county. He \n finishes, smacks his lips, lays the bottle down, and falls \n into a chair. He looks up at Macreedy.\n\n TIM\n (suddenly mean)\n What're you lookin' at?\n\n MACRE", ", pushes the towel \n from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob. He \n is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly, silently, \n he turns the knob and throws open the door.\n\n INT. HOTEL ROOM\n\n Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely \n furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents \n askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed sprawls \n Hector", "\n From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a figure \n starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT \n between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration, doesn't \n see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows down, \n suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy grins \n at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively. Hastings, \n with a parting glance, gallops up", "walks off. Doc looks after him grimly.\n\n DOC\n (calling)\n I hope you'll be seeing me.\n\n QUICK DISSOLVE:\n\n INT. TELEGRAPH AGENT'S OFFICE\n\n Macreedy stands at the high counter, writing on a Postal \n Telegraph blank. Behind the counter, watching him nervously, \n is Hastings. At the agent's elbow is a big pitcher with dew \n on the glass.", " MACREEDY\n Go on, have your drink.\n (with exorbitant scorn)\n You need it.\n\n Pete pushes the bottle aside, too ravaged by Macreedy's words \n and his own thoughts to drink. He shakes his head grimly and \n then, with sudden decision, goes to the switchboard and plugs \n in a line.\n\n DOC\n (leaning over counter, \n staring at him)\n What are you doing", "Y\n (putting a bill on \n the counter)\n That's what it says.\n\n Hastings again refills his glass, slopping the liquid over \n on the counter. He picks up the glass, hesitates, offers it \n awkwardly to Macreedy.\n\n HASTINGS\n (plaintively)\n Lemonade?\n\n Macreedy shakes his head. No.\n\n HASTINGS\n (mopping his forehead)" ], [ "s nose. The \n cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following \n through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's cheekbone. \n Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned face, \n finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and \n backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in pain \n and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps back. \n He raises", "ape -- would beat me to \n death and cop a plea of self-defense.\n\n SMITH\n I don't think that'll be necessary. \n You're so scared now you'll probably \n drown in your own sweat.\n\n COLEY\n Before that happens, couldn't I pick \n a fight with you if I tied one hand \n behind me...?\n\n Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley,", "Coley takes \n his limp left arm and spins him slowly but firmly around. \n The two men face each other.\n\n COLEY\n If I tied both hands...?\n\n Macreedy shakes free of Coley's grasp. Coley lunges. His big \n right fist streaks toward Macreedy's face. Macreedy ducks, \n weaving with the punch. He grabs Coley's belt, twisting \n Coley's body. The momentum of the swing throws Cole", "y off \n balance. As he goes past Macreedy, the stranger tugs at his \n belt, twisting him to one side. He plants his left foot firmly \n on the toes of Coley's left boot, for a split second anchoring \n Coley in place. He chops the under side of his open hand in \n a short, vicious arc that lands solidly under Coley's ear. \n With the same motion, he brings the heel of his hand hard \n against and slightly under the tip of Coley'", ", a station wagon pulls up \n just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front fender \n is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood weaves \n an uneven course down his glossy flank from an unmistakable \n bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car; one \n of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward \n him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow \n pavement, picking at his nose with the det", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", " a narrow stoop and outsize bay windows on each side. Macreedy \n mounts the hotel steps. At the top of the steps Coley Trimble \n and Hector David watch him silently. Hector is large and \n leanly muscular, yet Coley looms over him like a battleship. \n He is a gross behemoth of a man, with sharp flinty eyes the \n size of glistening pinpoints and a slack, oversized jaw. \n Both men wear modern Western work clothes, but there is one", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "tough.\n\n DOC\n Yeah. He's wicked. He defends himself \n when he's attacked.\n\n Macreedy ignores the exchange of words. He walks across the \n frayed carpet to the nearest chair and drops into it. Doc, \n who has followed him, stands looking down at Macreedy for a \n long moment. Then...\n\n DOC\n (with some irritation)\n Well...? You going to just sit here \n and let time", " Snort?\n\n MACREEDY\n No, thanks.\n\n TIM\n Don't blame you. It's awful.\n\n He takes a belt that would incapacitate half the county. He \n finishes, smacks his lips, lays the bottle down, and falls \n into a chair. He looks up at Macreedy.\n\n TIM\n (suddenly mean)\n What're you lookin' at?\n\n MACRE", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", ".\n\n MACREEDY\n I'd like to kill you now, but you \n caused too much pain to die quickly.\n (a beat)\n You'll be tried in a court of law. \n You'll be convicted by a jury. Then \n you'll die.\n\n He drives his right fist against Smith's chin. Smith's head \n snaps back as far as it can go and then wobbles to rest on \n his chest. He collapses", "He brakes the jeep before the garage. No one is there. He \n parks the vehicle, gets out and heads down the street.\n\n EXT. HOTEL\n\n Macreedy is about to go up the steps when he sees Coley's \n car at the curb. Both right fenders are creased. An ugly, \n jagged break has split the front bumper almost in half, one \n part angling crazily toward the sky, the other drooping in \n the dust of the road. Smith and Coley", ", pushes the towel \n from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob. He \n is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly, silently, \n he turns the knob and throws open the door.\n\n INT. HOTEL ROOM\n\n Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely \n furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents \n askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed sprawls \n Hector", "edly he tugs at his \n collar and then repeats the ritual of lighting a cigarette. \n Tim's shoulders are slumped. Humiliation has corroded him, \n flesh and soul. Even Doc is momentarily subdued; he too, \n feels degraded, unclean. Macreedy looks from one to the other \n of the good, ineffectual companions that circumstance has so \n haphazardly tossed his way. He takes a few steps to his \n suitcase, Doc and Tim trailing him; Doc, for", "(he gestures toward \n Hector, out cold)\n ...for depriving me of that pleasure.\n\n He heads toward the alley.\n\n EXT. ALLEY \n\n as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right, \n then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the \n street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off, \n starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle, falling \n heavily into the seat beside Liz", "hidden, looks out grimly from a corner of \n the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling to \n follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the long, \n ugly muzzle of a rifle.\n\n EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP \n\n as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and \n cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around to \n Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n (", "SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down the \n embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the corner \n of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in her \n throat, and then subsides.\n\n In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding \n his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated sharply \n in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of the \n cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy", " (to Smith)\n Wouldn't it be easier if you just \n waited till I turned my back?\n (looking toward the \n loafers at the bar, \n then back at Smith)\n Or are there too many witnesses \n present?\n\n Macreedy walks slowly toward him, holding the knife. The are \n only three feet apart. Smith's hand goes to a pocket, closes \n inside over the outline of a pistol. Sam glances from Macreedy \n " ], [ " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", " MACREEDY\n I don't know just why you're \n interested -- but the name's Macreedy. \n I'm...\n (grins)\n It's all in the ledger.\n\n HECTOR\n (slowly, his eyes \n glued to Macreedy's \n stiff arm)\n You look like you need a hand.\n\n Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden. He", "to Macreedy, shrilly, \n gruffly)\n In case you're interested, Coley'll \n live.\n (glaring at Smith and \n Hector)\n I'm truly sorry to say.\n\n Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector who \n turns toward Doc...\n\n HECTOR\n (to Doc, jerking a \n fat hand toward \n Macreedy)\n Your friend's pretty", " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls \n himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he shovels \n the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the fire. \n Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his \n shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through \n eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.\n\n SMITH\n (through his teeth)\n Go ahead -- kill me. Now", ". Sit down.\n\n MACREEDY\n (turning on him)\n Sit down?! Or would you rather have \n me kneel, to beg his pardon for \n raising a touchy subject?\n\n Pete squirms under Macreedy's relentless attack.\n\n PETE\n (shaking his head)\n You don't have to remind me. I've \n never forgotten...\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "And they wouldn't take \n me.\n\n MACREEDY\n (flatly)\n Tough.\n\n SMITH\n What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr. \n Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n I'm retired.\n\n SMITH\n You're a pretty young man...\n\n MACREEDY\n You might say I was forced into \n retirement.\n\n SM", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "I might --\n\n PETE\n (stiffly, shaking his \n head)\n This is 1945, mister. There's been a \n war on.\n\n Macreedy looks at the young man with impeccable tolerance. \n Without shifting his gaze, he slowly lets fall his small \n suitcase. It thuds softly on the frayed carpet.\n\n MACREEDY\n I thought it ended a couple of months \n ago.", "'s not much of me \n left any more, but however little it \n is I won't waste it!\n (again Liz's voice \n briefly; then...)\n I'm telling you because we need your \n help.\n (again Liz's voice)\n ...No matter about the past -- you've \n got to do this! You'd be saving two \n lives, Liz. Macreedy's, and mine.\n (again Liz answers ", "\n From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a figure \n starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT \n between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration, doesn't \n see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows down, \n suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy grins \n at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively. Hastings, \n with a parting glance, gallops up", "s nose. The \n cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following \n through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's cheekbone. \n Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned face, \n finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and \n backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in pain \n and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps back. \n He raises", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", "of them broken. Macreedy \n halts momentarily beside the well. Reaching out he touches \n the warped sun-beaten boards that cover the mouth. He removes \n one, and, picking up a pebble, drops it through the opening. \n There is a long beat and then, from far, far below we HEAR a \n faint PLUNK (o.s.). He replaces the board and walks to a \n broken wall. He touches the burned out frame of a picture. \n The frame falls to the ground,", ", pushes the towel \n from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob. He \n is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly, silently, \n he turns the knob and throws open the door.\n\n INT. HOTEL ROOM\n\n Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely \n furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents \n askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed sprawls \n Hector", "like to go hunting \n tomorrow? I'd be proud to have you \n as my guest.\n\n MACREEDY\n Thanks, but I'm afraid not.\n\n SMITH\n (with admirable candor)\n You mean, because of your arm?\n (slaps Macreedy's \n shoulder in a \n friendly, \n understanding gesture)\n I knew a man once, lost an arm in a \n threshing accident", "leaving an un-scorched square \n on the surface of the wall. He goes past a solitary standing \n stone chimney. Suddenly he halts, arrested by something among \n the rubble, the rottenness and the ashes.\n\n REVERSE ANGLE - WHAT HE SEES\n\n Surrounded by the seared and blackened earth is a rectangular \n patch of lovely wild flowers.\n\n BACK TO MACREEDY\n\n studying the brightly colored flowers. His face is lined in \n thought", " PETE\n (bitterly)\n My memories are so pleasant as it \n is...\n\n In sudden frustration, Pete grabs the deck of cards on the \n clerk's desk and slams them down hard. They scatter. He turns, \n stares blankly [...] between Doc and Macreedy.\n\n MACREEDY\n (quietly pressing his \n advantage)\n What happened, Pete?\n\n Pete doesn't answer.\n\n DO" ], [ ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "C\n Are you going to tell him -- or you \n want me to?\n (beat)\n Smith owns Adobe Flat. He leased it \n to Komako -- thought he had cheated \n him, thought Komako could never even \n run stock without water. There was \n never any water on Adobe Flat. Komako \n dug a well, by hand. He must have \n went down one hundred and fifty feet.\n\n PETE\n ", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "\n\n SMITH\n (easily)\n A storm? About what?\n\n TIM\n I don't know. All I know, I don't \n want trouble around here.\n (pauses awkwardly, \n then)\n Never again.\n\n SMITH\n Trouble? You don't know anything \n about Komako, now do you, Tim?\n\n TIM\n I do not. That'", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", "ITH\n What were you looking for in Adobe \n Flat?\n\n MACREEDY\n Komako, like I told you. Like you \n told me, he wasn't there.\n\n Smith laughs quietly.\n\n MACREEDY\n What's so funny?\n\n SMITH\n Nothing. It's just -- I don't believe \n you. I believe a man is as big as \n what he seeks. I believe you'", "re a fool. \n If he finishes me, he's got to finish \n you.\n\n He looks up blindly into the headlights glaring from the \n granitic high ground some 60 yards away. His grip on the \n girl's shoulder is like a steel trap. He pushes her down \n beside Komako's grave, hugging the side of the jeep as a \n SHOT rips the gravel at their feet. Pulling the girl with \n him, he takes cover in the", "DOC\n (gesturing toward it)\n First I sell 'em a piece of land. \n Think they farm it? Nope. They dig \n for gold.\n\n He moves to photograph beside the map on the wall -- a large, \n impressive photograph of a placer mine in operation.\n\n DOC\n They rip off the top soil of ten \n winding hills. They sprint in here, \n fog-heaved with excitement, lugging \n nuggets, big", "OT - DAY\n\n Tim sits in his chair, still staring sightlessly at the \n whiskey bottle. Smith enters. He looks from Tim to the bottle \n on the table, then back to Tim.\n\n SMITH\n (after a beat, \n disinterestedly)\n What did he want -- the stranger?\n\n TIM\n (abstractedly)\n He asked about Komako.\n (looking up at Smith)\n You think he'll kick up a storm?", "iling)\n You don't seem to believe anything I \n say.\n\n MACREEDY\n (vaguely)\n Yes, I do -- about businessmen, for \n instance. I think a businessman would \n be interested in Adobe Flat.\n\n SMITH\n Why?\n\n MACREEDY\n All that land lying fallow. Could be \n put to some use. Like a graveyard.\n (Smith opens", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "\n after he left, a bunch of kids got \n fooling around out his place. They \n burned it down. It was one of those \n things -- you know how kids are.\n\n Macreedy laughs quietly.\n\n SMITH\n What's funny?\n\n MACREEDY\n Nothing. Only -- I don't believe \n you. Any more than I believed you \n about the letters.\n\n SMITH\n (sm", "his mouth \n to speak but Macreedy \n goes on)\n A historian might be interested, \n too. Because of the strange customs \n around here, such as burying cattle...\n\n SMITH\n Burying cattle...?\n\n MACREEDY\n (calmly)\n Something's buried out there.\n\n He takes the wild flowers from his pocket, holding them in \n front of Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n", " See these wild flowers? That means a \n grave. I've seen it overseas. I figure \n it isn't a man's grave or someone \n would have marked it. Sort of a \n mystery, isn't it?\n\n SMITH\n Sort of. Maybe you can figure it \n out.\n\n Macreedy gets up, half turns to Smith.\n\n MACREEDY\n Maybe.\n\n He starts down the steps.\n\n ", "whips the fiery bottle like a football, hard and \n straight toward Smith. Smith fires once, fast and wild. The \n bottle crashes against the rocks at his feet and bursts with \n a shattering explosion. Smith screams as the razor-sharp \n slivers rip his flesh. In a puff of flame, his clothes ignite. \n He drops the rifle and goes down, squirming frantically on \n the black ashy ground.\n\n EXT. RANCH - FULL SHOT \n\n ", " SMITH\n I don't know. People are always \n looking for something in this part \n of the West. To the historian, it's \n the \"Old West.\" To the book writers, \n it's the \"Wild West.\" To the \n businessmen, it's the \"Undeveloped \n West.\" They all say we're backward \n and poor, and I guess we are.\n (snorts)\n We don't even have enough" ], [ " That medal would help.\n\n Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He pauses, \n looking at the people silently in his wake and then at Doc. \n He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket -- the \n box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands it \n to Doc.\n\n DOC\n Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for \n everything.\n\n Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after \n ", " buried in Italy.\n\n DOC\n What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my \n life. They gave him a medal. I came \n here to give it to his father.\n\n Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's admission, \n frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at \n Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He", ", anyway.\n\n SMITH\n (quietly)\n You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?\n\n MACREEDY\n (eyeing him)\n A man named Komako.\n\n SMITH\n (no hesitation)\n Komako -- Sure, I remember him -- \n Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.\n\n MACREEDY\n No?\n\n SMITH\n He got here in '", "\n\n Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith as \n he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen letters...\n\n MACREEDY\n I wrote these letters to Komako. \n They weren't forwarded. They were \n returned -- address unknown.\n (he smiles grimly at \n Smith)\n So I guess there's nothing you can \n do for me, after all.\n\n Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NO", "\n marked, nobody knows anything about.\n\n HASTINGS\n That ain't it, either.\n\n MACREEDY\n Is it Smith?\n (no answer)\n Is it?!\n\n HASTINGS\n (squirming)\n Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good \n neighbor...\n\n MACREEDY\n To Smith you are. How about to Komako?\n\n HAST", "bowing his head. Macreedy sighs, looks \n down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the table...\n\n MACREEDY\n (softly)\n Did Komako have any family besides \n his son Joe?\n\n DOC\n (puzzled)\n His son...? Nobody around here knew \n he had a son.\n\n MACREEDY\n He had one. But he's dead, too. He's \n", "he takes the bottle \n from Macreedy)\n You move fast for a crip... for a \n big man.\n\n For a moment heavy silence. Finally...\n\n MACREEDY\n What about Komako?\n\n TIM\n (slowly)\n If there's no further questions...\n\n Macreedy grins harshly and exits. Tim watches him go, then \n slowly reaches for the bottle. He pauses, looks at his shaking \n hand", "?\n\n COLEY\n So there's nothing to worry about.\n\n SMITH\n Isn't there?\n (a beat)\n You got brains, you have.\n\n COLEY\n (squirming)\n But what can he find out? That Komako \n was...?\n (Smith glares at him)\n Suppose he finds out?\n\n SMITH\n A nobody like Macreedy can raise a", "water.\n (a beat)\n But this place, to us, is our West.\n (heatedly)\n I just wish they'd leave us alone.\n\n MACREEDY\n Leave you alone to do what?\n\n SMITH\n (coldly)\n I don't know what you mean.\n\n MACREEDY\n What happened to Komako?\n\n SMITH\n He went away, I told you. Shortly", "lost.\n\n SMITH\n You got things a bit twisted...\n\n MACREEDY\n You killed Komako. Sooner or later \n you'll go up for it. Not because you \n killed him -- in this town you \n probably could have gotten away with \n it -- but because you didn't even \n have the guts to do it alone. You \n put your trust in guys like him...\n (gesturing toward the \n unconscious", "ornfully)\n What else is left for you?!\n (mounting anger)\n You're as dead as Komako, only you \n don't know it!\n (roaring)\n You also don't know that it's not \n enough to feel guilty. It's not enough \n to confess. It's not enough to say, \n \"Forgive me, I've done wrong.\"\n\n DOC\n Take it easy, Macreedy", " What did Komako have to do with \n Corregidor?\n\n SMITH\n Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy, \n there's a law in this county against \n shooting dogs. But if I see a mad \n dog loose, I don't wait for him to \n bite me.\n (exhales sharply, \n shaking his head \n with irritation)\n I swear, you're beginning to make me ", "if I'm \n needed.\n\n Doc nods. He blinks and frowns...\n\n MACREEDY\n What's on your mind, Doc?\n\n DOC\n Nothing. Only... about that medal. \n Can we have it?\n\n MACREEDY\n \"We...?\" Can who have it?\n\n DOC\n We.\n (indicating the \n townspeople, with a \n vague", "step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith. \n Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of \n sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working \n methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a pocket \n a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch \n blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand \n and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.\n\n MACREEDY\n ", "INGS\n (meeting Macreedy's \n eyes)\n I never seen Komako in my life. \n Honest.\n\n MACREEDY\n (again pushes the \n bill toward Hastings)\n Then send that wire, and bring me \n the answer. You'll do that, won't \n you?\n\n HASTINGS\n (pauses, then worriedly \n picking up the bill)\n Yes", "him.\n\n EXT. PLATFORM\n\n as Macreedy boards the train.\n\n EXT. STREET\n\n The cars in front of the jail U-turn and start off with the \n prisoners. The people move silently toward the train.\n\n EXT. TRAIN\n\n Macreedy is at the passageway. Slowly the train moves out.\n\n INT. PASSAGEWAY OF TRAIN\n\n Macreedy and a conductor stand at the doorway. The town is \n seen behind them and", " Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.\n\n INT. BAR & GRILL\n\n Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences little \n interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the loafers \n stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.\n\n SAM\n What'll you have?\n\n MACREEDY\n What have you got?\n\n SAM\n Chili wit' beans", "\n They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind him.\n\n COLEY\n (to Macreedy, with \n menacing friendliness)\n You still around? I thought you didn't \n like this place.\n\n MACREEDY\n (pleasantly)\n Going to, or coming from?\n\n COLEY\n Staying put.\n\n MACREEDY\n No comment.\n\n He turns", ". Macreedy blows out his breath hard. \n He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...\n\n DISSOLVE:\n\n EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)\n\n Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the empty \n main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a tarp, \n the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On the \n seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few", "stand-off.\n\n DOC\n (to Macreedy)\n It's all right, Macreedy...\n\n He pulls Tim's Mackinaw to one side, revealing the silver-\n plated star pinned at the breast.\n\n DOC\n Old Tim here's got his badge back.\n\n Macreedy swings his rifle from Tim to Smith. Tim lowers his, \n stepping to one side, allowing Smith, covered by Macreedy, \n to enter the jail" ] ]

[ "Who told Macreedy that there were no vacant rooms available at the hotel?", "Who was Macreedy searching for in Black Rock?", "Who told Macreedy that Komoko is dead?", "How did Macreedy loose his left arm?", "Who's son saved Macreedy's life?", "Who shot Komoko?", "What did Macreedy use to injur Smith?", "Who set up and betrayed Macreedy?", "What is the name of the man Macreedy is looking for?", "Where was Mcreedy fighting when he lost his arm?", "Why couldn't Smith enlist in the Marines?", "What did Macreedy plan to give to Komoko?", "Who does Macreedy give the metal to before leaving town?", "Why does Macreedy give the metal away before leaving town?", "Who betrays Macreedy in the canyon?", "Who is Liz's brother?", "Who shoots Liz?", "Who drives Macreedy out of town before the shoot out with Smith?", "Who is Macreedy looking for when he gets off the train in Black Rock?", "What does Reno Smith inform Macreedy about Komoko?", "What does Doc Velie advise Macreedy to do when they meet?", "Where did Macreedy lose his left arm?", "What leads Macreedy to believe that Komoko is dead?", "Who refuses to put through Macreedy's call to the State Police?", "How does Macreedy beat up Trimble?", "Who saved Macreedy's life in the war?", "What did Komoko find on the land that he leased from Smith?", "To whom does Macreedy give Komoko's medal?" ]

[ [ "Pete Wirth", "Pete Wirth." ], [ "Komoko", "komoko" ], [ "Doc Velie", "Doc Velie." ], [ "While fighting in Italy", "fighting in Italy" ], [ "Komoko's", "Komoko." ], [ "Smith", "smith" ], [ "A Molotov cocktail", "fire" ], [ "Liz", "Liz." ], [ "Komoko", "Komoko" ], [ "Italy", "Italy." ], [ "He failed his physical.", "He didn't pass the physical." ], [ "his son's war metal", "Hi posthumous medal." ], [ "Doc Velie", "Doc Velie." ], [ "To help Black Rock heal", "Doc Velie." ], [ "Liz", "Liz and Smith." ], [ "Smith", "Pete" ], [ "Macreedy", "smith" ], [ "Liz", "LIz." ], [ "Komoko.", "looking for Komoko" ], [ "That he was interned during World War II.", "That Komoko was in an internment camp during WWII." ], [ "To leave town right away.", "Leave town." ], [ "In Italy.", "Italy." ], [ "The wildflowers.", "Doc Velie tells him so." ], [ "Pete the hotel desk clerk.", "Pete." ], [ "Martial arts.", "He uses martialarts." ], [ "Komoko's son.", "Komoko's son." ], [ "Water.", "water" ], [ "Doc Velie.", "elder Komoko" ] ]

[ [ "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "weakness of character; and\n instead of taking advantage of it I shall set you a better\n example. I want to know is this true. [She produces a pamphlet\n and takes it to the Bishop; then sits down between Hotchkiss and\n her mother].\n\n THE BISHOP [reading the title] Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO\n DO? BY A WOMAN WHO HAS DONE IT. May I ask, my dear, what she did?\n\n EDITH. She got married. When she had three children", "getting late. Wheres Edith? Hasnt she got into her veil and\n orange blossoms yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do go and hurry her, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA [going out through the tower] Come with me, Leo.\n\n LEO [following Lesbia out] Yes, certainly.\n\n The Bishop goes over to his wife and sits down, taking her hand\n and kissing it by way of beginning a conversation with her.\n\n THE BISHOP. Alice: Ive had another", "[Rising] But whats\n it got to do with our business here to-day? Is it you thats going\n to be married or is it Edith?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I'm so sorry, I get so interested in myself that I\n thrust myself into the front of every discussion in the most\n insufferable way. [Reginald, with an exclamation of disgust,\n crosses the kitchen towards the study door]. But, my dear\n Rejjy, are you quite sure that Miss Bridgenorth is going to", "alarmed. I'm not going to be married.\n\n ALL THE REST. Not!\n\n SYKES [in consternation] Edith! Are you throwing me over?\n\n EDITH. How can I? you have been beforehand with me.\n\n SYKES. On my honor, no. All I said was that I didnt know the law\n when I asked you to be my wife.\n\n EDITH. And you wouldnt have asked me if you had. Is that it?\n\n SYKES. No. I should", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry", "[He sits down\n at the table].\n\n EDITH. Is it understood that Slattox and Chinnery are liars and\n thieves, and that I hope by next Wednesday to have in my hands\n conclusive evidence that Slattox is something much worse?\n\n SYKES. I made no conditions as to that when I proposed to you;\n and now I cant go back. I hope Providence will spare my poor\n mother. I say again I'm ready to marry you.\n\n EDITH. Then I think you shew great", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [", "marriage?\n\n SYKES. I raise no difficulty. But I do beg you to be careful what\n you say about people. You must remember, my dear, that when we\n are married I shall be responsible for everything you say. Only\n last week you said on a public platform that Slattox and Chinnery\n were scoundrels. They could have got a thousand pounds damages\n apiece from me for that if we'd been married at the time.\n\n EDITH [austerely] I never said anything of the sort. I never\n ", "We\n have to dress Edith. Come, Lesbia: come, Leo: we must all help.\n Now, Edith. [Lesbia, Leo, and Edith go out through the tower].\n Collins: we shall want you when Miss Edith's dressed to look over\n her veil and things and see that theyre all right.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, maam. Anything you would like mentioned about Miss\n Lesbia, maam?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. No. She wont have the General. I think you", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "RS GEORGE. The bride! [Looking at Edith's dressing-jacket] Youre\n not going to get married like that, are you?\n\n THE BISHOP [coming round the table to Edith's left] Thats just\n what we are discussing. Will you be so good as to join us and\n allow us the benefit of your wisdom and experience?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Do you want the Beadle as well? He's a married man.\n\n They all turn, involuntarily and contemplate", "[mildly] I shall not take an action, Cecil.\n\n EDITH [to Hotchkiss] Sorry; but you are old enough to know\n better. [To the others] And now since there is to be no wedding,\n we had better get back to our work. Mamma: will you tell Collins\n to cut up the wedding cake into thirty-three pieces for the club\n girls? My not being married is no reason why they should be\n disappointed. [She turns to go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [gallantly] If", "\n SOAMES. It is usual to begin with the term of the contract.\n\n EDITH. What does that mean?\n\n SOAMES. The term of years for which it is to hold good.\n\n LEO. But this is a marriage contract.\n\n SOAMES. Is the marriage to be for a year, a week, or a day?\n\n REGINALD. Come, I say, Anthony! Youre worse than any of us. A\n day!\n\n SOAMES. Off the path is off the path. An", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if" ], [ "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "We\n have to dress Edith. Come, Lesbia: come, Leo: we must all help.\n Now, Edith. [Lesbia, Leo, and Edith go out through the tower].\n Collins: we shall want you when Miss Edith's dressed to look over\n her veil and things and see that theyre all right.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, maam. Anything you would like mentioned about Miss\n Lesbia, maam?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. No. She wont have the General. I think you", "getting late. Wheres Edith? Hasnt she got into her veil and\n orange blossoms yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do go and hurry her, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA [going out through the tower] Come with me, Leo.\n\n LEO [following Lesbia out] Yes, certainly.\n\n The Bishop goes over to his wife and sits down, taking her hand\n and kissing it by way of beginning a conversation with her.\n\n THE BISHOP. Alice: Ive had another", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "RS GEORGE. The bride! [Looking at Edith's dressing-jacket] Youre\n not going to get married like that, are you?\n\n THE BISHOP [coming round the table to Edith's left] Thats just\n what we are discussing. Will you be so good as to join us and\n allow us the benefit of your wisdom and experience?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Do you want the Beadle as well? He's a married man.\n\n They all turn, involuntarily and contemplate", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "[Rising] But whats\n it got to do with our business here to-day? Is it you thats going\n to be married or is it Edith?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I'm so sorry, I get so interested in myself that I\n thrust myself into the front of every discussion in the most\n insufferable way. [Reginald, with an exclamation of disgust,\n crosses the kitchen towards the study door]. But, my dear\n Rejjy, are you quite sure that Miss Bridgenorth is going to", "ESBIA. Good morning, Collins. How well you are looking! And how\n young! [She turns the middle chair away from the table and sits\n down].\n\n COLLINS. Thats only my professional habit at a wedding, Miss. You\n should see me at a political dinner. I look nigh seventy.\n [Looking at his watch] Time's getting along, maam. May I send up\n word from you to Miss Edith to hurry a bit with her dressing?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do, Collins.\n", "her back to the fireplace.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Good morning, Boxer. [They shake hands]. Another\n niece to give away. This is the last of them.\n\n THE GENERAL [very gloomy] Yes, Alice. Nothing for the old warrior\n uncle to do but give away brides to luckier men than himself.\n Has--[he chokes] has your sister come yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Why do you always call Lesbia my sister? Dont\n you know that it an", "AL. Mr Bridgenorth: are you going to leave this house or\n am I?\n\n REGINALD. You are, I hope. [He emphasizes his intention to stay\n by sitting down].\n\n THE GENERAL. Alice: will you allow me to be driven from Edith's\n wedding by this--\n\n LESBIA [warningly] Boxer!\n\n THE GENERAL. --by this Respondent? Is Edith to be given away by\n him?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "[He sits down\n at the table].\n\n EDITH. Is it understood that Slattox and Chinnery are liars and\n thieves, and that I hope by next Wednesday to have in my hands\n conclusive evidence that Slattox is something much worse?\n\n SYKES. I made no conditions as to that when I proposed to you;\n and now I cant go back. I hope Providence will spare my poor\n mother. I say again I'm ready to marry you.\n\n EDITH. Then I think you shew great", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "bore, Alice; but when I come to this house for a\n wedding--to these scenes--to--to recollections of the past--\n always to give the bride to somebody else, and never to have my\n bride given to me--[he rises abruptly] May I go into the garden\n and smoke it off?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do, Boxer.\n\n Collins returns with the wedding cake.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Oh, heres the cake. I believe it's the same one\n we", " with Society. Heaven forbid that Edith should be one of the\n combatants!\n\n St John Hotchkiss comes into the tower ushered by Collins. He is\n a very smart young gentleman of twenty-nine or thereabouts,\n correct in dress to the last thread of his collar, but too much\n preoccupied with his ideas to be embarrassed by any concern as to\n his appearance. He talks about himself with energetic gaiety. He\n talks to other people with a sweet forbearance (implying a kindly\n consideration for" ], [ "her back to the fireplace.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Good morning, Boxer. [They shake hands]. Another\n niece to give away. This is the last of them.\n\n THE GENERAL [very gloomy] Yes, Alice. Nothing for the old warrior\n uncle to do but give away brides to luckier men than himself.\n Has--[he chokes] has your sister come yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Why do you always call Lesbia my sister? Dont\n you know that it an", "\n me. [He all but weeps].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. What does she say when you tell her?\n\n THE GENERAL. Only that she wonders when I am going to grow out of\n it. I know now that I shall never grow out of it.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Perhaps you would if you married her. I\n believe youre better as you are, Boxer.\n\n THE GENERAL. I'm a miserable man. I'm really sorry to be a\n ridiculous old", "do? [They shake hands; and he takes\n the chair on her right].\n\n Mrs Bridgenorth goes out through the tower.\n\n LESBIA. How are you, Boxer? You look almost as gorgeous as the\n wedding cake.\n\n THE GENERAL. I make a point of appearing in uniform whenever I\n take part in any ceremony, as a lesson to the subalterns. It is\n not the custom in England; but it ought to be.\n\n LESBIA. You look very fine, Boxer. What a", "and comes between Lesbia and the\n General.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Lesbia: Boxer: heres a pretty mess!\n\n Collins goes out discreetly.\n\n THE GENERAL. Whats the matter?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Reginald's in London, and wants to come to the\n wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL [stupended] Well, dash my buttons!\n\n LESBIA. Oh, all right, let him come.\n\n THE GENERAL", "AL. Mr Bridgenorth: are you going to leave this house or\n am I?\n\n REGINALD. You are, I hope. [He emphasizes his intention to stay\n by sitting down].\n\n THE GENERAL. Alice: will you allow me to be driven from Edith's\n wedding by this--\n\n LESBIA [warningly] Boxer!\n\n THE GENERAL. --by this Respondent? Is Edith to be given away by\n him?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH", "BRIDGENORTH [going to him and rallying him] Oh come, Boxer!\n Really, really! We are no longer boys and girls. You cant keep up\n a broken heart all your life. It must be nearly twenty years\n since she refused you. And you know that it's not because she\n dislikes you, but only that she's not a marrying woman.\n\n THE GENERAL. It's no use. I love her still. And I cant help\n telling her so whenever we meet, though I know it makes her avoid", "malice nor expects\n any achievement. In everything but years he is younger than his\n brother the General.\n\n REGINALD [coming forward between the General and Mrs Bridgenorth]\n Alice: it's no use. I cant stay away from Edith's wedding. Good\n morning, Lesbia. How are you, Boxer? [He offers the General his\n hand].\n\n THE GENERAL [with crushing stiffness] I was just telling Alice,\n sir, that if you entered this house, I should leave it.\n\n ", "bore, Alice; but when I come to this house for a\n wedding--to these scenes--to--to recollections of the past--\n always to give the bride to somebody else, and never to have my\n bride given to me--[he rises abruptly] May I go into the garden\n and smoke it off?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do, Boxer.\n\n Collins returns with the wedding cake.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Oh, heres the cake. I believe it's the same one\n we", "the future. [She rises and walks towards the\n study].\n\n THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask\n you again, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door].\n\n MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you?\n\n LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear\n for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study].\n\n The", ".\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. I wonder!\n\n LESBIA. Wheres the Barmecide?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. In the study, working away at his new book. He\n thinks no more now of having a daughter married than of having an\n egg for breakfast.\n\n The General, soothed by smoking, comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [with resolute bonhomie] Ah, Lesbia!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. How do you", "We\n have to dress Edith. Come, Lesbia: come, Leo: we must all help.\n Now, Edith. [Lesbia, Leo, and Edith go out through the tower].\n Collins: we shall want you when Miss Edith's dressed to look over\n her veil and things and see that theyre all right.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, maam. Anything you would like mentioned about Miss\n Lesbia, maam?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. No. She wont have the General. I think you", "is very simple. As I say, I am an\n English lady, by which I mean that I have been trained to do\n without what I cant have on honorable terms, no matter what it\n is.\n\n THE GENERAL. I really dont understand you, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA [turning on him] Then why on earth do you want to marry a\n woman you dont understand?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont know. I suppose I love you.\n\n LESBIA. Well, Boxer, you can love", "\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Stuff, Sinjon! Of course people must get\n married. [Uneasily] Alfred: why dont you say something? Surely\n youre not going to let this go on.\n\n THE GENERAL. Ive been waiting for the last twenty minutes,\n Alfred, in amazement! in stupefaction! to hear you put a stop to\n all this. We look to you: it's your place, your office, your\n duty. Exert your authority at once.\n\n THE", "?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. The Bishop's wife? Yes.\n\n MRS GEORGE. What a destiny! And you look like any other woman!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Lesbia] My sister, Miss Grantham.\n\n MRS GEORGE. So strangely mixed up with the story of the General's\n life?\n\n THE BISHOP. You know the story of his life, then?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Not all. We reached", "had for Florence's wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL. I cant bear it [he hurries out through the garden\n door].\n\n COLLINS [putting the cake on the table] Well, look at that,\n maam! Aint it odd that after all the weddings he's given away at,\n the General cant stand the sight of a wedding cake yet. It always\n seems to give him the same shock.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Well, it's his last shock. You have married the\n whole family", "Very well, General. [He turns dubiously to\n Lesbia on his way to the tower]. I wonder what my wife will say,\n Miss?\n\n THE GENERAL. What! Is your, wife ashamed of your robes?\n\n COLLINS. No, sir, not ashamed of them. But she grudged the money\n for them; and she will be afraid of my sleeves getting into the\n gravy.\n\n Mrs Bridgenorth, her placidity quite upset, comes in with a\n letter; hurries past Collins;", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "now, Collins. [She takes up The Times again and\n resumes her seat].\n\n COLLINS. Except your sister, maam. A fine character of a lady,\n maam, is Miss Grantham. I have an ambition to arrange her wedding\n breakfast.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. She wont marry, Collins.\n\n COLLINS. Bless you, maam, they all say that. You and me said it,\n I'll lay. I did, anyhow.\n\n MRS BRIDGEN", "the women first. Shall we go\n upstairs and look at the presents and dresses?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. If you wish, certainly.\n\n REGINALD. But the men want to hear what you have to say too.\n\n MRS GEORGE. I'll talk to them afterwards: one by one.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to himself] Great heavens!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. This way, Mrs Collins. [She leads the way out\n through the tower, followed by" ], [ ". She has more\n than common imagination and no more than common conception and\n penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words\n and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself\n clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and\n prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that\n understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,\n then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she\n told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed\n bringing out", "In fact,\n thats why I had to divorce him.\n\n THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt\n he?\n\n REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find\n them out for herself without your help.\n\n THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.\n\n LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than\n Reginald. I daresay he's not so", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", " a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she\n have got her divorce if I hadnt beaten her? Nice state of things,\n that!\n\n THE GENERAL [gasping] Do you mean to tell me that you did it in\n cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife?\n\n REGINALD. No, I didn't: I did it to get her rid of me. What would\n you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years\n younger than yourself, and then found that", "could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering\n silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now?\n What can I do now?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other\n men's wives is growing on you; and that I'm your latest.\n\n HOTCHKISS. What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over\n for me!\n\n MRS GEORGE [rising] You wont then? Very well", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "REGINALD. Youre not going to speak to me again, anyhow, are you?\n Do you suppose I'm going to visit you when you marry him?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I hope so. Surely youre not going to be vindictive,\n Rejjy. Besides, youll have all the advantages I formerly enjoyed.\n Youll be the visitor, the relief, the new face, the fresh news,\n the hopeless attachment: I shall only be the husband.\n\n REGINALD [savagely", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "\n are perfectly legal; but do you expect me, as a Bishop, to\n approve of them?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont defend Reginald. He should have kicked you\n out of the house, Mr. Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD [rising] How could I kick him out of the house? He's\n stronger than me: he could have kicked me out if it came to that.\n He did kick me out: what else was it but kicking out, to take my\n wife's affections from me", "waiting for my instructions as to the\n term of the agreement.\n\n REGINALD [impatiently, leaving the hearth and going behind\n Soames] It's no good talking all over the shop like this. We\n shall be here all day. I propose that the agreement holds good\n until the parties are divorced.\n\n SOAMES. They cant be divorced. They will not be married.\n\n REGINALD. But if they cant be divorced, then this will be worse\n than marriage.\n\n MRS BRID", "; and I dont\n intend to. There are certain rights I will not give any person\n over me.\n\n REGINALD. Well, I think it jolly hard that a man should support\n his wife for years, and lose the chance of getting a really good\n wife, and then have her refuse to be a wife to him.\n\n LESBIA. I'm not going to discuss it with you, Rejjy. If your\n sense of personal honor doesnt make you understand, nothing will.\n\n SOAMES [implacably]", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", "\n that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her\n neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a\n fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about\n committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the\n hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know\n what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent\n man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.\n I'm all right.\n\n LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a\n disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home\n with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow\n me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You\n must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt\n you or something.\n", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", " that if they didnt make our marriage laws reasonable there would\n be a strike against marriage, and that it would begin among the\n propertied classes, where no Government would dare to interfere\n with it.\n\n REGINALD. What did they say to that?\n\n THE BISHOP. The usual thing. Quite agreed with me, but were sure\n that they were the only sensible men in the world, and that the\n least hint of marriage reform would lose them the next election.\n And then lost it all the same: on cordite", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows", "Make my excuses.\n Forget me. Farewell. [He makes for the door and is confronted by\n Mrs George entering]. Too late: I'm lost. [He turns back and\n throws himself desperately into the chair nearest the study door;\n that being the furthest away from her].\n\n MRS GEORGE [coming to the hearth and addressing Reginald] Mr\n Bridgenorth: will you oblige me by leaving me with this young\n man. I want to talk to him like a mother, on YOUR business", ".\n\n REGINALD. Do, maam. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. [He\n goes into the study].\n\n SYKES [looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss]--?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Too late: you cant save me now, Cecil. Go.\n\n Sykes goes into the study. Mrs George strolls across to Hotchkiss\n and contemplates him curiously.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Useless to prolong this agony. [Rising" ], [ "him?\n\n LEO. Will somebody tell me how I'm to arrange to take care of\n Rejjy when I'm married to Sinjon. Rejjy must not be allowed to\n marry anyone else, especially that odious nasty creature that\n told all those wicked lies about him in Court.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Let us draw up the first English partnership deed.\n\n LEO. For shame, Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Somebody must begin, my dear. Ive a very strong\n suspicion that", "go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [following] Dont be an ass, Polly.\n\n MRS GEORGE [stopping] Thats better.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Cant you see that I maynt throw Leo over just because\n I should be only too glad to. It would be dishonorable.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Will you be happy if you marry her?\n\n HOTCHKISS. No, great heaven, NO!\n\n MRS GEORGE. Will she", "of\n that?\n\n LEO. But there are such lots of stupid women to marry. Why do\n they want to marry us? Besides, Rejjy knows that I'm quite fond\n of him. I like him because he wants me; and I like Sinjon because\n I want him. I feel that I have a duty to Rejjy.\n\n THE GENERAL. Precisely: you have.\n\n LEO. And, of course, Sinjon has the same duty to me.\n\n THE GENERAL. Tut, tut!\n", "Well, dash my buttons! } together].\n\n It is too late: Leo is already in the kitchen. Collins goes out,\n mutely abandoning a situation which he deplores but has been\n unable to save.\n\n Leo is very pretty, very youthful, very restless, and\n consequently very charming to people who are touched by youth and\n beauty, as well as to those who regard young women as more or\n less appetizing lollipops, and dont regard old women at all.\n Coldly studied, Leo's restlessness is much", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", ". If she were a middle-aged man she would be the\n terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven\n everything, proving that \"Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner\"\n is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving\n everything is to understand nothing.\n\n She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on\n Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs\n Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Les", "\n LEO. Oh, how silly the law is! Why cant I marry them both?\n\n THE GENERAL [shocked] Leo!\n\n LEO. Well, I love them both. I should like to marry a lot of men.\n I should like to have Rejjy for every day, and Sinjon for\n concerts and theatres and going out in the evenings, and some\n great austere saint for about once a year at the end of the\n season, and some perfectly blithering idiot of a boy to be quite\n ", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "them off to every new visitor. In the\n end you have to be content with his common humanity; and when you\n come down to that, you find out about men what a great English\n poet of my acquaintance used to say about women: that they all\n taste alike. Marry whom you please: at the end of a month he'll\n be Reginald over again. It wasnt worth changing: indeed it wasnt.\n\n LEO. Then it's a mistake to get married.\n\n THE BISHOP. It is, my dear;", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "men to know quite intimately--to say everything I think of to\n them, and have them say everything they think of to me.\n\n THE BISHOP. So you shall, my dear, if you are lucky. But you know\n you neednt marry them all. Think of all the buttons you would\n have to sew on. Besides, nothing is more dreadful than a husband\n who keeps telling you everything he thinks, and always wants to\n know what you think.\n\n LEO [struck by this] Well, thats very true of Rejjy:", "youll allow me to take Cecil's place,\n Miss Bridgenorth--\n\n LEO. Sinjon!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, I forgot. I beg your pardon. [To Edith,\n apologetically] A prior engagement.\n\n EDITH. What! You and Leo! I thought so. Well, hadnt you two\n better get married at once? I dont approve of long engagements.\n The breakfast's ready: the cake's ready: everything's ready. I'll\n", ". A fellow with a face like--\n\n LEO. You shant, Rejjy. He has a very fine face.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. And now she says she wants to marry both of\n them, and a lot of other people as well.\n\n LEO. I didnt say I wanted to marry them: I only said I should\n like to marry them.\n\n THE BISHOP. Quite a nice distinction, Leo.\n\n LEO. Just occasionally, you know.\n\n THE BISHOP [s", "it\n in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and\n Alfred's apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the\n King's personal request--virtually a command--that stopped me\n from resigning my commission. I'd cut Reginald dead if I met him\n in the street.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Besides, Leo's coming. Theyd meet. It's\n impossible, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Oh, I forgot that. That settles", "I have exhausted the conversation of the British Army these\n thirty years; but I dont leave it on that account.\n\n LEO. It's not that Ive exhausted it; but he will keep on\n repeating it when I want to read or go to sleep. And Sinjon\n amuses me. He's so clever.\n\n THE GENERAL [stung] Ha! The old complaint. You all want geniuses\n to marry. This demand for clever men is ridiculous. Somebody must\n marry the plain, honest, stupid fellows. Have you thought", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "to his feet, momentarily stupent and\n speechless.\n\n EDITH [rising] And I with Cecil.\n\n LEO [rising] And I with Rejjy and St John.\n\n THE GENERAL [aghast] An alliance! Do you mean a--a--a--\n\n REGINALD. She only means bigamy, as I understand her.\n\n THE GENERAL. Alfred: how long more are you going to stand there\n and countenance this lunacy? Is it a horrible dream or am I", "clever as you; but still he's not\n such a fool as you seem to think him!\n\n THE BISHOP. Quite right, dear: stand up for your husband. I hope\n you will always stand up for all your husbands. [He rises and\n goes to the hearth, where he stands complacently with his back to\n the fireplace, beaming at them all as at a roomful of children].\n\n LEO. Please dont talk as if I wanted to marry a whole regiment.\n For me there can never be more", "bad enough for the two people to be married to one another\n without their both being married to the doctor as well.\n\n LESBIA. That reminds me of something very important. Boxer\n believes in vaccination: I do not. There must be a clause that I\n am to decide on such questions as I think best.\n\n LEO [to the Bishop] Baptism is nearly as important as\n vaccination: isnt it?\n\n THE BISHOP. It used to be considered so, my dear.\n\n LEO. Well, Sinjon" ], [ "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "[He sits down\n at the table].\n\n EDITH. Is it understood that Slattox and Chinnery are liars and\n thieves, and that I hope by next Wednesday to have in my hands\n conclusive evidence that Slattox is something much worse?\n\n SYKES. I made no conditions as to that when I proposed to you;\n and now I cant go back. I hope Providence will spare my poor\n mother. I say again I'm ready to marry you.\n\n EDITH. Then I think you shew great", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "alarmed. I'm not going to be married.\n\n ALL THE REST. Not!\n\n SYKES [in consternation] Edith! Are you throwing me over?\n\n EDITH. How can I? you have been beforehand with me.\n\n SYKES. On my honor, no. All I said was that I didnt know the law\n when I asked you to be my wife.\n\n EDITH. And you wouldnt have asked me if you had. Is that it?\n\n SYKES. No. I should", "[Rising] But whats\n it got to do with our business here to-day? Is it you thats going\n to be married or is it Edith?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I'm so sorry, I get so interested in myself that I\n thrust myself into the front of every discussion in the most\n insufferable way. [Reginald, with an exclamation of disgust,\n crosses the kitchen towards the study door]. But, my dear\n Rejjy, are you quite sure that Miss Bridgenorth is going to", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "getting late. Wheres Edith? Hasnt she got into her veil and\n orange blossoms yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do go and hurry her, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA [going out through the tower] Come with me, Leo.\n\n LEO [following Lesbia out] Yes, certainly.\n\n The Bishop goes over to his wife and sits down, taking her hand\n and kissing it by way of beginning a conversation with her.\n\n THE BISHOP. Alice: Ive had another", "RS GEORGE. The bride! [Looking at Edith's dressing-jacket] Youre\n not going to get married like that, are you?\n\n THE BISHOP [coming round the table to Edith's left] Thats just\n what we are discussing. Will you be so good as to join us and\n allow us the benefit of your wisdom and experience?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Do you want the Beadle as well? He's a married man.\n\n They all turn, involuntarily and contemplate", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [", "CHKISS. Have you the least idea of what they are talking\n about, Mr Alderman?\n\n COLLINS. Oh, thats all right, Sir. The particulars dont matter. I\n never read the report of a Committee: after all, what can they\n say, that you dont know? You pick it up as they go on talking.[He\n goes to the corner of the table and speaks across it to the\n company]. Well, my Lord and Miss Edith and Madam and Gentlemen,\n it's like this. Marriage is toler", "weakness of character; and\n instead of taking advantage of it I shall set you a better\n example. I want to know is this true. [She produces a pamphlet\n and takes it to the Bishop; then sits down between Hotchkiss and\n her mother].\n\n THE BISHOP [reading the title] Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO\n DO? BY A WOMAN WHO HAS DONE IT. May I ask, my dear, what she did?\n\n EDITH. She got married. When she had three children", "We\n have to dress Edith. Come, Lesbia: come, Leo: we must all help.\n Now, Edith. [Lesbia, Leo, and Edith go out through the tower].\n Collins: we shall want you when Miss Edith's dressed to look over\n her veil and things and see that theyre all right.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, maam. Anything you would like mentioned about Miss\n Lesbia, maam?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. No. She wont have the General. I think you", "marriage?\n\n SYKES. I raise no difficulty. But I do beg you to be careful what\n you say about people. You must remember, my dear, that when we\n are married I shall be responsible for everything you say. Only\n last week you said on a public platform that Slattox and Chinnery\n were scoundrels. They could have got a thousand pounds damages\n apiece from me for that if we'd been married at the time.\n\n EDITH [austerely] I never said anything of the sort. I never\n ", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall" ], [ "weakness of character; and\n instead of taking advantage of it I shall set you a better\n example. I want to know is this true. [She produces a pamphlet\n and takes it to the Bishop; then sits down between Hotchkiss and\n her mother].\n\n THE BISHOP [reading the title] Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO\n DO? BY A WOMAN WHO HAS DONE IT. May I ask, my dear, what she did?\n\n EDITH. She got married. When she had three children", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "I'd\n thought about it; and even if I had thought about it I was too\n much in love with Alice to let anything stand in the way. But,\n you know, Ive seen one of our daughters after another--Ethel,\n Jane, Fanny, and Christina and Florence--go out at that door in\n their veils and orange blossoms; and Ive always wondered whether\n theyd have gone quietly if theyd known what they were doing. Ive\n a horrible misgiving about that pamphlet. All progress means war\n", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "ientious scruple and religious\n impulse have been applauded and deferred to until she has become\n an ethical snob of the first water. Her father's sense of humor\n and her mother's placid balance have done something to save her\n humanity; but her impetuous temper and energetic will,\n unrestrained by any touch of humor or scepticism, carry\n everything before them. Imperious and dogmatic, she takes command\n of the party at once.\n\n EDITH [standing behind Cecil's chair] Cecil", "! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh,\n how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And\n now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said:\n I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just\n bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself.\n Thats how it is, you see.\n\n Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat\n on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", ".\n\n The Bishop's song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.\n\n THE GENERAL. Reading!\n\n THE BISHOP. What is she reading?\n\n LESBIA. Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o'clock post. She\n wont come out. She wont open the door. And she says she doesnt\n know whether she's going to be married or not till she's finished\n the pamphlet. Did you ever hear such a thing? Do come and speak\n to her.", "some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far\n from settled.\n\n THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important\n to tell us.\n\n SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?\n\n EDITH. Got married, of course.\n\n THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?\n\n SYKES [j", "to Cecil. [Mrs Bridgenorth\n comes to him. Lesbia goes into the garden, as before]. Let us go\n into my study.\n\n LEO. But she must come and dress. Look at the hour!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Come, Leo dear. [Leo follows her reluctantly.\n They are about to go into the study with the Bishop].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Do you know, Miss Bridgenorth, I should most awfully\n like to hear what you have to say to", "from the study] Here. Whats the matter?\n\n LEO [springing up and flouncing round to him] Whats the matter!\n You may well ask. While Edie and Cecil were at the insurance\n office I took a taxy and went off to your lodgings; and a nice\n mess I found everything in. Your clothes are in a disgraceful\n state. Your liver pad has been made into a kettle-holder. Youre\n no more fit to be left to yourself than a one-year old baby.\n\n ", "Not at all. We have provided for everything.\n\n SOAMES. How?\n\n EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that\n insurance company--whats its name, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you\n against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies.\n\n EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions\n brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low\n terms because I am a Bishop's daughter.", "its and \"knowing\" one another. They felt a little vulgar when they\nspent a day at Margate, and quite distinguished and travelled when\nthey spent it at Boulogne. They were, except as to their clothes, \"not\nparticular\": that is, they could put up with ugly sights and sounds,\nunhealthy smells, and inconvenient houses, with inhuman apathy and\ncallousness. They had, as to adults, a theory that human nature is so\npoor that it is useless to try to make the world any better, whilst as", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", ": I heard your voice.\n I must speak to you very particularly. Papa: go away. Go away\n everybody.\n\n THE BISHOP [crossing to the study door] I think there can be no\n doubt that Edith wishes us to retire. Come. [He stands in the\n doorway, waiting for them to follow].\n\n SYKES. Thats it, you see. It's just this outspokenness that makes\n my position hard, much as I admire her for it.\n\n EDITH. Do you want me to fl" ], [ "--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with\n emotion].\n\n MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear\n old warrior on the bounce, eh?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already!\n\n MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it.\n [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He\n suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You.", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "be happy when she finds you out?\n\n HOTCHKISS. She's incapable of happiness. But she's not incapable\n of the pleasure of holding a man against his will.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Right, young man. You will tell her, please, that you\n love me: before everybody, mind, the very next time you see her.\n\n HOTCHKISS. But--\n\n MRS GEORGE. Those are my orders, Sinjon. I cant have you marry\n another woman until", ". Sorry we shant meet\n again: I should have liked to see more of you for George's sake.\n Good-bye [she moves away from him towards the hearth].\n\n HOTCHKISS [appealing] Zenobia--\n\n MRS. GEORGE. I thought I lead made a difficult conquest. Now I\n see you are only one of those poor petticoat-hunting creatures\n that any woman can pick up. Not for me, thank you. [Inexorable,\n she turns towards the tower to", "an, most likely.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Then you are a woman totally beneath me. Do you deny\n it? Do you set up any sort of pretence to be my equal in rank, in\n age, or in culture?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Have you eaten anything that has disagreed with you?\n\n HOTCHKISS [witheringly] Inferior!\n\n MRS GEORGE. Thank you. Anything else?\n\n HOTCHKISS. This. I love you. My", "you coming in and out occasionally\n for--well, say a month. If you can make a friend of me in that\n time so much the better for you. If you can touch my poor dying\n heart even for an instant, I'll bless you, and never forget you.\n You may try--if George takes to you.\n\n HOTCHKISS. I'm to come on liking for the month?\n\n MRS GEORGE. On condition that you drop Mrs Reginald.\n\n HOTCHKISS. But she", "ry you with onions for his\n breakfast and think nothing of it. George and I are good friends.\n George belongs to me. Other men may come and go; but George goes\n on for ever.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Yes: a husband soon becomes nothing but a habit.\n Listen: I suppose this detestable fascination you have for me is\n love.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Any sort of feeling for a woman is called love\n nowadays.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Do you love me?", "could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering\n silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now?\n What can I do now?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other\n men's wives is growing on you; and that I'm your latest.\n\n HOTCHKISS. What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over\n for me!\n\n MRS GEORGE [rising] You wont then? Very well", "exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your\n acquaintance.\n\n MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor\n I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table\n near the study door].\n\n HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the\n corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I\n can.\n\n MRS GEORGE [turning to face him]", "of your presence, and for\n your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar\n people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and\n humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes\n it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than\n expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses,\n wouldnt you?\n\n MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Ha", "my lord, you. For some reason that I never could\n make out, she has forbidden me to talk about you, or to let her\n meet you. Ive asked her to come here of a wedding morning to help\n with the flowers or the like; and she has always refused. But if\n you order her to come as her Bishop, she'll come. She has some\n very strange fancies, has Mrs George. Send your ring to her, my\n lord--he official ring--send it by some very stylish gentleman--\n perhaps Mr Hotchkiss here", "Christians, so all Christians, both male and female, are\n invariably people over-flowing with domestic sentimentality and\n professions of respect for the conventions they violate in\n secret.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Well, you dont expect them to give themselves away,\n do you?\n\n HOTCHKISS. They are people of sentiment, not of honor. Now, I'm\n not a man of sentiment, but a man of honor. I know well what will\n happen to me when once I cross the threshold of your", " MRS GEORGE [sitting down] And so will my husband the coal\n merchant.\n\n HOTCHKISS. If I were your husband's superior here I should be his\n superior in heaven or hell: equality lies deeper than that. The\n coal merchant and I are in love with the same woman. That settles\n the question for me for ever. [He prowls across the kitchen to\n the garden door, deep in thought].\n\n SOAMES. Psha!\n\n MRS GEORGE. You dont believe", " with Society. Heaven forbid that Edith should be one of the\n combatants!\n\n St John Hotchkiss comes into the tower ushered by Collins. He is\n a very smart young gentleman of twenty-nine or thereabouts,\n correct in dress to the last thread of his collar, but too much\n preoccupied with his ideas to be embarrassed by any concern as to\n his appearance. He talks about himself with energetic gaiety. He\n talks to other people with a sweet forbearance (implying a kindly\n consideration for", "what I believe, but what you\n believe. Take the vows with me; and give up that woman if you\n have the strength and the light. But if you are still in the grip\n of this world, at least respect its institutions. Do you believe\n in marriage or do you not?\n\n HOTCHKISS. My soul is utterly free from any such superstition. I\n solemnly declare that between this woman, as you impolitely call\n her, and me, I see no barrier that my conscience bids me respect.\n", "empty. To disbelieve in\n marriage is easy: to love a married woman is easy; but to betray\n a comrade, to be disloyal to a host, to break the covenant of\n bread and salt, is impossible. You may take me home with you,\n Polly: you have nothing to fear.\n\n MRS GEORGE. And nothing to hope?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Since you put it in that more than kind way, Polly,\n absolutely nothing.\n\n MRS GEORGE.", "George is tired of you.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, if I only didnt selfishly want to obey you!\n\n The General comes in from the garden. Mrs George goes half way to\n the garden door to speak to him. Hotchkiss posts himself on the\n hearth.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Where have you been all this time?\n\n THE GENERAL. I'm afraid my nerves were a little upset by our\n conversation. I just went into the garden and had a smoke. I'm\n all", "ha! You are in my power. That is one of the\n oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can\n bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you\n dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me?\n\n MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair\n on your head.\n\n HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands.\n\n MRS G", "\n REGINALD [breaking loose from her and stumping off past Hotchkiss\n towards the hearth] No, I'm dashed if I'll be adopted by St John.\n You can adopt him if you like.\n\n HOTCHKISS [rising] I suggest that that would really be the better\n plan, Leo. Ive a confession to make to you. I'm not the man you\n took me for. Your objection to Rejjy was that he had low tastes.\n\n REGINALD [turning", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry" ], [ "the table].\n\n The Bishop comes out of his study. He is still a slim active man,\n spare of flesh, and younger by temperament than his brothers. He\n has a delicate skin, fine hands, a salient nose with chin to\n match, a short beard which accentuates his sharp chin by\n bristling forward, clever humorous eyes, not without a glint of\n mischief in them, ready bright speech, and the ways of a\n successful man who is always interested in himself and generally\n rather well pleased with himself. When Lesbia", "to\n touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke\n to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my\n salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough:\n I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I\n have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for\n my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier\n in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did", ".\n\nThe Bishop is lucky enough to have a XII century palace. The palace\nitself has been lucky enough to escape being carved up into XV century\nGothic, or shaved into XVIII century ashlar, or \"restored\" by a XIX\ncentury builder and a Victorian architect with a deep sense of the\numbrella-like gentlemanliness of XIV century vaulting. The present\noccupant, A. Chelsea, unofficially Alfred Bridgenorth, appreciates\nNorman work. He has, by adroit complaints of the discomfort of the\nplace, induced the", "Mr Alderman. Let us draft it at once. May\n I go into the study for writing materials, Bishop?\n\n THE BISHOP. Do, Sinjon.\n\n Hotchkiss goes into the library.\n\n COLLINS. If I might point out a difficulty, my lord--\n\n THE BISHOP. Certainly. [He goes to the fourth chair from the\n General's left, but before sitting down, courteously points to\n the chair at the end of the table next the hearth]. Wont you sit\n down, Mr", ".\n\n The Bishop's song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.\n\n THE GENERAL. Reading!\n\n THE BISHOP. What is she reading?\n\n LESBIA. Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o'clock post. She\n wont come out. She wont open the door. And she says she doesnt\n know whether she's going to be married or not till she's finished\n the pamphlet. Did you ever hear such a thing? Do come and speak\n to her.", "of Babel, as if the builders, anticipating our modern\nideas and instinctively defying them, had resolved to show how much\nmaterial they could lavish on a house built for the glory of God,\ninstead of keeping a competitive eye on the advantage of sending in the\nlowest tender, and scientifically calculating how little material would\nbe enough to prevent the whole affair from tumbling down by its own\nweight.\n\nThe kitchen is the Bishop's favorite room. This is not at all because\nhe is a man of humble mind; but because the kitchen is one of", "\n says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it?\n\n SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not\n matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the\n hearth].\n\n THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants\n you to hear.\n\n SOAMES. I am listening.\n\n THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now.\n\n MRS GEORGE.", "my lord, you. For some reason that I never could\n make out, she has forbidden me to talk about you, or to let her\n meet you. Ive asked her to come here of a wedding morning to help\n with the flowers or the like; and she has always refused. But if\n you order her to come as her Bishop, she'll come. She has some\n very strange fancies, has Mrs George. Send your ring to her, my\n lord--he official ring--send it by some very stylish gentleman--\n perhaps Mr Hotchkiss here", "Bishop.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [coming back from the study with a knitting\n basket] Here he is. [She resumes her seat, and knits].\n Soames comes in in cassock and biretta. He salutes the company by\n blessing them with two fingers.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Take my place, Mr Soames. [He gives up his chair to\n him, and retires to the oak chest, on which he seats himself].\n\n THE BISHOP. No longer Mr Soames, Sin", "BISHOP. You must give the devil fair play, Boxer. Until you\n have heard and weighed his case you have no right to condemn him.\n I'm sorry you have been kept waiting twenty minutes; but I myself\n have waited twenty years for this to happen. Ive often wrestled\n with the temptation to pray that it might not happen in my own\n household. Perhaps it was a presentiment that it might become a\n part of our old Bridgenorth burden that made me warn our\n Governments so earnestly that unless the law of marriage", "has founded to cast out and replace by the communion of\n saints. I learnt that from every marriage settlement I drew up as\n a solicitor no less than from inspired revelation. You have set\n yourselves here to put your sin before you in black and white;\n and you cant agree upon or endure one article of it.\n\n SYKES. It's certainly rather odd that the whole thing seems to\n fall to pieces the moment you touch it.\n\n THE BISHOP. You see, when you give the devil fair play he loses", "Mrs George, Lesbia, Leo, and\n Edith].\n\n THE BISHOP. Shall we try to get through the last batch of letters\n whilst they are away, Soames?\n\n SOAMES. Yes, certainly. [To Hotchkiss, who is in his way] Excuse\n me.\n\n The Bishop and Soames go into the study, disturbing Hotchkiss,\n who, plunged in a strange reverie, has forgotten where he is.\n Awakened by Soames, he stares distractedly; then", "Good morning, Bishop.\n\n THE BISHOP [coming off the table]. What on earth are you doing\n here, Sinjon? You belong to the bridegroom's party: youve no\n business here until after the ceremony.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Yes, I know: thats just it. May I have a word with you\n in private? Rejjy or any of the family wont matter; but--[he\n glances at the General, who has risen rather stiffly, as he\n strongly disapproves of the part", "! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh,\n how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And\n now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said:\n I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just\n bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself.\n Thats how it is, you see.\n\n Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat\n on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out", "to inform you that\n if any officer under my command violated the sacred equality of\n our profession by putting a single jot of his duty or his risk on\n the shoulders of the humblest drummer boy, I'd shoot him with my\n own hand.\n\n HOTCHKISS. That sentiment is not your equality, General, but your\n superiority. Ask the Bishop. [He seats himself on the edge of the\n table].\n\n THE BISHOP. I cant support you, Sinjon. My profession also\n compels me to", "the coal merchant's\n wife, could you?\n\n THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it.\n\n THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to\n laugh, isnt it?\n\n MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from\n a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell.\n\n THE BISHOP. Neither", "wicked with. I so seldom feel wicked; and, when I do, it's such a\n pity to waste it merely because it's too silly to confess to a\n real grown-up man.\n\n REGINALD. This is the kind of thing, you know [Helplessly] Well,\n there it is!\n\n THE GENERAL [decisively] Alice: this is a job for the Barmecide.\n He's a Bishop: it's his duty to talk to Leo. I can stand a good\n ", "is happily married, and that love\n is a necessary of life to her, but that she must have, high above\n all her lovers--\n\n THE BISHOP. She has several apparently--\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. --some great man who will never know her, never\n touch her, as she is on earth, but whom she can meet in Heaven\n when she has risen above all the everyday vulgarities of earthly\n love.\n\n THE BISHOP [rising] Excellent. Very good for her; and no trouble\n", "withered in the fire: I have\n come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed?\n\n THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed?\n\n SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message.\n\n MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave\n you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in\n a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your\n arms, and the volume of", "\n THE BISHOP [stopping] A chapter in my history of marriage. I'm\n just at the Roman business, you know.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming from the garden door to the chair Mrs\n Bridgenorth has just left, and sitting down] Not more Ritualism,\n I hope, Alfred?\n\n THE BISHOP. Oh no. I mean ancient Rome. [He seats himself on the\n edge of the table]. Ive just come to the period when the\n propertied classes refused to get married and went in" ], [ "the future. [She rises and walks towards the\n study].\n\n THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask\n you again, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door].\n\n MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you?\n\n LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear\n for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study].\n\n The", "and comes between Lesbia and the\n General.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Lesbia: Boxer: heres a pretty mess!\n\n Collins goes out discreetly.\n\n THE GENERAL. Whats the matter?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Reginald's in London, and wants to come to the\n wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL [stupended] Well, dash my buttons!\n\n LESBIA. Oh, all right, let him come.\n\n THE GENERAL", "her back to the fireplace.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Good morning, Boxer. [They shake hands]. Another\n niece to give away. This is the last of them.\n\n THE GENERAL [very gloomy] Yes, Alice. Nothing for the old warrior\n uncle to do but give away brides to luckier men than himself.\n Has--[he chokes] has your sister come yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Why do you always call Lesbia my sister? Dont\n you know that it an", "is very simple. As I say, I am an\n English lady, by which I mean that I have been trained to do\n without what I cant have on honorable terms, no matter what it\n is.\n\n THE GENERAL. I really dont understand you, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA [turning on him] Then why on earth do you want to marry a\n woman you dont understand?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont know. I suppose I love you.\n\n LESBIA. Well, Boxer, you can love", "BRIDGENORTH [going to him and rallying him] Oh come, Boxer!\n Really, really! We are no longer boys and girls. You cant keep up\n a broken heart all your life. It must be nearly twenty years\n since she refused you. And you know that it's not because she\n dislikes you, but only that she's not a marrying woman.\n\n THE GENERAL. It's no use. I love her still. And I cant help\n telling her so whenever we meet, though I know it makes her avoid", ".\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. I wonder!\n\n LESBIA. Wheres the Barmecide?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. In the study, working away at his new book. He\n thinks no more now of having a daughter married than of having an\n egg for breakfast.\n\n The General, soothed by smoking, comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [with resolute bonhomie] Ah, Lesbia!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. How do you", ": you\n are--\n\n LESBIA. Yes, I know. It's no use, Boxer. When will you be old\n enough to take no for an answer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Never, Lesbia, never. You have never given me a real\n reason for refusing me yet. I once thought it was somebody else.\n There were lots of fellows after you; but now theyve all given it\n up and married. [Bending still nearer to her] Lesbia: tell me\n your secret. Why--\n", "[She sits down at the end of the table, near the\n study door].\n\n THE GENERAL [huffily] Oh well, if you refuse, you refuse. I shall\n not ask you again. I'm sorry I returned to the subject. [He\n retires to the hearth and plants himself there, wounded and\n lofty].\n\n LESBIA. Dont be cross, Boxer.\n\n THE GENERAL. I'm not cross, only wounded, Lesbia. And when you\n talk like that, I dont", "malice nor expects\n any achievement. In everything but years he is younger than his\n brother the General.\n\n REGINALD [coming forward between the General and Mrs Bridgenorth]\n Alice: it's no use. I cant stay away from Edith's wedding. Good\n morning, Lesbia. How are you, Boxer? [He offers the General his\n hand].\n\n THE GENERAL [with crushing stiffness] I was just telling Alice,\n sir, that if you entered this house, I should leave it.\n\n ", "do? [They shake hands; and he takes\n the chair on her right].\n\n Mrs Bridgenorth goes out through the tower.\n\n LESBIA. How are you, Boxer? You look almost as gorgeous as the\n wedding cake.\n\n THE GENERAL. I make a point of appearing in uniform whenever I\n take part in any ceremony, as a lesson to the subalterns. It is\n not the custom in England; but it ought to be.\n\n LESBIA. You look very fine, Boxer. What a", "me as much as you like,\n provided you look happy about it and dont bore me. But you cant\n marry me; and thats all about it.\n\n THE GENERAL. It's so frightfully difficult to argue the matter\n fairly with you without wounding your delicacy by overstepping\n the bounds of good taste. But surely there are calls of nature--\n LESBIA. Dont be ridiculous, Boxer.\n\n THE GENERAL. Well, how am I to express it? Hang it all, Lesbia,\n dont", "LESBIA [rising impatiently] Oh, my dear Boxer, do please try to\n think of something else than whether you have offended me, and\n whether you are doing the correct thing as an English gentleman.\n You are faultless, and very dull. [She shakes her shoulders\n intolerantly and walks across to the other side of the kitchen].\n\n THE GENERAL [moodily] Ha! thats whats the matter with me. Not\n clever. A poor silly soldier man.\n\n LESBIA. The whole matter", "\n LESBIA [sniffing disgustedly] Oh! Youve been smoking. [She rises\n and goes to the chair on the hearth] Keep away, you wretch.\n\n THE GENERAL. But for that pipe, I could not have faced you\n without breaking down. It has soothed me and nerved me.\n\n LESBIA [sitting down with The Times in her hand] Well, it has\n nerved me to tell you why I'm going to be an old maid.\n\n THE GENERAL", "Very well, General. [He turns dubiously to\n Lesbia on his way to the tower]. I wonder what my wife will say,\n Miss?\n\n THE GENERAL. What! Is your, wife ashamed of your robes?\n\n COLLINS. No, sir, not ashamed of them. But she grudged the money\n for them; and she will be afraid of my sleeves getting into the\n gravy.\n\n Mrs Bridgenorth, her placidity quite upset, comes in with a\n letter; hurries past Collins;", "General's left] A woman has\n no right to refuse motherhood. That is clear, after the\n statistics given in The Times by Mr Sidney Webb.\n\n THE GENERAL. Mr Webb has nothing to do with it. It is the Voice\n of Nature.\n\n LESBIA. But if she is an English lady it is her right and her\n duty to stand out for honorable conditions. If we can agree on\n the conditions, I am willing to enter into an alliance with\n Boxer.\n\n The General staggers", "you dont want.\n\n LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier\n man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the\n very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that\n is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the\n qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave;\n whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage\n nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will\n make the England of", "[impulsively approaching her] Dont say that, Lesbia.\n It's not natural: it's not right: it's--\n\n LESBIA. [fanning him off] No: no closer, Boxer, please. [He\n retreats, discouraged]. It may not be natural; but it happens all\n the time. Youll find plenty of women like me, if you care to look\n for them: women with lots of character and good looks and money\n and offers, who wont and dont get married. Cant you guess why", "\n\n THE GENERAL. But, my dear Lesbia, you see what has happened here\n to-day. [Coming a little nearer and bending his face towards\n hers] Now I put it to you, does it not show you the folly of not\n marrying?\n\n LESBIA. No: I cant say it does. And [rising] you have been\n smoking again.\n\n THE GENERAL. You drive me to it, Lesbia. I cant help it.\n\n LESBIA [standing behind her", "dont disturb yourself, Sinjon. Boxer's broken\n heart has been worn on his sleeve too long for any pretence of\n privacy.\n\n THE GENERAL. You are cruel, Lesbia: devilishly cruel. [He sits\n down, wounded].\n\n LESBIA. You are vulgar, Boxer.\n\n HOTCHKISS. In what way? I ask, as an expert in vulgarity.\n\n LESBIA. In two ways. First, he talks as if the only thing of any\n importance", "\n me. [He all but weeps].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. What does she say when you tell her?\n\n THE GENERAL. Only that she wonders when I am going to grow out of\n it. I know now that I shall never grow out of it.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Perhaps you would if you married her. I\n believe youre better as you are, Boxer.\n\n THE GENERAL. I'm a miserable man. I'm really sorry to be a\n ridiculous old" ], [ "malice nor expects\n any achievement. In everything but years he is younger than his\n brother the General.\n\n REGINALD [coming forward between the General and Mrs Bridgenorth]\n Alice: it's no use. I cant stay away from Edith's wedding. Good\n morning, Lesbia. How are you, Boxer? [He offers the General his\n hand].\n\n THE GENERAL [with crushing stiffness] I was just telling Alice,\n sir, that if you entered this house, I should leave it.\n\n ", "and comes between Lesbia and the\n General.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Lesbia: Boxer: heres a pretty mess!\n\n Collins goes out discreetly.\n\n THE GENERAL. Whats the matter?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Reginald's in London, and wants to come to the\n wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL [stupended] Well, dash my buttons!\n\n LESBIA. Oh, all right, let him come.\n\n THE GENERAL", "it. He mustnt come.\n\n THE GENERAL. Of course he mustnt. You tell him that if he enters\n this house, I'll leave it; and so will every decent man and woman\n in it.\n\n COLLINS [returning for a moment to announce] Mr Reginald, maam.\n [He withdraws when Reginald enters].\n\n THE GENERAL [beside himself] Well, dash my buttons!!\n\n Reginald is just the man Lesbia has described. He is hardened and\n tough", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "played by Hotchkiss in\n Reginald's domestic affairs].\n\n THE BISHOP. All right, Sinjon. This is our brother, General\n Bridgenorth. [He goes to the hearth and posts himself there, with\n his hands clasped behind him].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, good! [He turns to the General, and takes out a\n card-case]. As you are in the service, allow me to introduce\n myself. Read my card, please. [He presents his card to the\n astonished", "had for Florence's wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL. I cant bear it [he hurries out through the garden\n door].\n\n COLLINS [putting the cake on the table] Well, look at that,\n maam! Aint it odd that after all the weddings he's given away at,\n the General cant stand the sight of a wedding cake yet. It always\n seems to give him the same shock.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Well, it's his last shock. You have married the\n whole family", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", "to his feet, momentarily stupent and\n speechless.\n\n EDITH [rising] And I with Cecil.\n\n LEO [rising] And I with Rejjy and St John.\n\n THE GENERAL [aghast] An alliance! Do you mean a--a--a--\n\n REGINALD. She only means bigamy, as I understand her.\n\n THE GENERAL. Alfred: how long more are you going to stand there\n and countenance this lunacy? Is it a horrible dream or am I", ". But we're all our own and one\n another's equals, arnt we? So perhaps when youve quite done\n talking about yourselves, we shall get to whatever business\n Sinjon came about.\n\n HOTCHKISS [coming off the table hastily] my dear fellow. I beg a\n thousand pardons. Oh! true, It's about the wedding?\n\n THE GENERAL. What about the wedding?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Well, we cant get our man up to the scratch. Cecil has", "Good morning, Bishop.\n\n THE BISHOP [coming off the table]. What on earth are you doing\n here, Sinjon? You belong to the bridegroom's party: youve no\n business here until after the ceremony.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Yes, I know: thats just it. May I have a word with you\n in private? Rejjy or any of the family wont matter; but--[he\n glances at the General, who has risen rather stiffly, as he\n strongly disapproves of the part", "AL. Mr Bridgenorth: are you going to leave this house or\n am I?\n\n REGINALD. You are, I hope. [He emphasizes his intention to stay\n by sitting down].\n\n THE GENERAL. Alice: will you allow me to be driven from Edith's\n wedding by this--\n\n LESBIA [warningly] Boxer!\n\n THE GENERAL. --by this Respondent? Is Edith to be given away by\n him?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH", "never saw that hateful creature until that day in\n Court. If he had only shewn her to me before, I should never have\n allowed it.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. You did all this for Leo's sake, Rejjy?\n\n REGINALD [with an unbearable sense of injury] I shouldnt mind a\n bit if it were for Leo's sake. But to have to do it to make room\n for that mushroom-faced serpent--!\n\n THE GENERAL [jumping up] What", "using to make that attack at\n Smutsfontein. I dont pretend to be a brave man. I'm afraid of\n wasps. I'm afraid of cats. In spite of the voice of reason, I'm\n afraid of ghosts; and twice Ive fled across Europe from false\n alarms of cholera. But afraid to fight I am not. [He turns gaily\n to Reginald and slaps him on the shoulder]. Eh, Rejjy? [Reginald\n grunts].\n\n THE GENERAL. Then", "ve made me thoroughly miserable.\n\n REGINALD. Serve you right! [She weeps]. There: dont get into a\n tantrum, Leo.\n\n LESBIA. May one ask who is the mushroom-faced serpent?\n\n LEO. He isnt.\n\n REGINALD. Sinjon Hotchkiss, of course.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Sinjon Hotchkiss! Why, he's coming to the\n wedding!\n\n REGINALD. What! In that case", "\n are perfectly legal; but do you expect me, as a Bishop, to\n approve of them?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont defend Reginald. He should have kicked you\n out of the house, Mr. Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD [rising] How could I kick him out of the house? He's\n stronger than me: he could have kicked me out if it came to that.\n He did kick me out: what else was it but kicking out, to take my\n wife's affections from me", "REGINALD. Youre not going to speak to me again, anyhow, are you?\n Do you suppose I'm going to visit you when you marry him?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I hope so. Surely youre not going to be vindictive,\n Rejjy. Besides, youll have all the advantages I formerly enjoyed.\n Youll be the visitor, the relief, the new face, the fresh news,\n the hopeless attachment: I shall only be the husband.\n\n REGINALD [savagely", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows" ], [ ". But we're all our own and one\n another's equals, arnt we? So perhaps when youve quite done\n talking about yourselves, we shall get to whatever business\n Sinjon came about.\n\n HOTCHKISS [coming off the table hastily] my dear fellow. I beg a\n thousand pardons. Oh! true, It's about the wedding?\n\n THE GENERAL. What about the wedding?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Well, we cant get our man up to the scratch. Cecil has", "had for Florence's wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL. I cant bear it [he hurries out through the garden\n door].\n\n COLLINS [putting the cake on the table] Well, look at that,\n maam! Aint it odd that after all the weddings he's given away at,\n the General cant stand the sight of a wedding cake yet. It always\n seems to give him the same shock.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Well, it's his last shock. You have married the\n whole family", "Good morning, Bishop.\n\n THE BISHOP [coming off the table]. What on earth are you doing\n here, Sinjon? You belong to the bridegroom's party: youve no\n business here until after the ceremony.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Yes, I know: thats just it. May I have a word with you\n in private? Rejjy or any of the family wont matter; but--[he\n glances at the General, who has risen rather stiffly, as he\n strongly disapproves of the part", " THE GENERAL [emphatically] You know also, dont you, that any man\n who can see anything ridiculous, or unmanly, or unbecoming in\n your work or in your civic robes is not a gentleman, but a\n jumping, bounding, snorting cad?\n\n COLLINS. Well, strictly between ourselves, that is my opinion,\n General.\n\n THE GENERAL. Then why not dignify my niece's wedding by wearing\n your robes?\n\n COLLINS. A bargain's", "malice nor expects\n any achievement. In everything but years he is younger than his\n brother the General.\n\n REGINALD [coming forward between the General and Mrs Bridgenorth]\n Alice: it's no use. I cant stay away from Edith's wedding. Good\n morning, Lesbia. How are you, Boxer? [He offers the General his\n hand].\n\n THE GENERAL [with crushing stiffness] I was just telling Alice,\n sir, that if you entered this house, I should leave it.\n\n ", "Very well, General. [He turns dubiously to\n Lesbia on his way to the tower]. I wonder what my wife will say,\n Miss?\n\n THE GENERAL. What! Is your, wife ashamed of your robes?\n\n COLLINS. No, sir, not ashamed of them. But she grudged the money\n for them; and she will be afraid of my sleeves getting into the\n gravy.\n\n Mrs Bridgenorth, her placidity quite upset, comes in with a\n letter; hurries past Collins;", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "her back to the fireplace.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Good morning, Boxer. [They shake hands]. Another\n niece to give away. This is the last of them.\n\n THE GENERAL [very gloomy] Yes, Alice. Nothing for the old warrior\n uncle to do but give away brides to luckier men than himself.\n Has--[he chokes] has your sister come yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Why do you always call Lesbia my sister? Dont\n you know that it an", "AL [going to him] Oh, by the way, could you oblige me\n [the rest of the sentence is lost in a whisper].\n\n COLLINS. Certainly, General. [He takes out a tobacco pouch and\n hands it to the General, who takes it and goes into the garden].\n\n LESBIA. I dont believe theres a man in England who really and\n truly loves his wife as much as he loves his pipe.\n\n THE BISHOP. By the way, what has happened to the wedding party?\n\n SY", "\n me. [He all but weeps].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. What does she say when you tell her?\n\n THE GENERAL. Only that she wonders when I am going to grow out of\n it. I know now that I shall never grow out of it.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Perhaps you would if you married her. I\n believe youre better as you are, Boxer.\n\n THE GENERAL. I'm a miserable man. I'm really sorry to be a\n ridiculous old", "and comes between Lesbia and the\n General.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Lesbia: Boxer: heres a pretty mess!\n\n Collins goes out discreetly.\n\n THE GENERAL. Whats the matter?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Reginald's in London, and wants to come to the\n wedding.\n\n THE GENERAL [stupended] Well, dash my buttons!\n\n LESBIA. Oh, all right, let him come.\n\n THE GENERAL", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "it. He mustnt come.\n\n THE GENERAL. Of course he mustnt. You tell him that if he enters\n this house, I'll leave it; and so will every decent man and woman\n in it.\n\n COLLINS [returning for a moment to announce] Mr Reginald, maam.\n [He withdraws when Reginald enters].\n\n THE GENERAL [beside himself] Well, dash my buttons!!\n\n Reginald is just the man Lesbia has described. He is hardened and\n tough", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "AL. Mr Bridgenorth: are you going to leave this house or\n am I?\n\n REGINALD. You are, I hope. [He emphasizes his intention to stay\n by sitting down].\n\n THE GENERAL. Alice: will you allow me to be driven from Edith's\n wedding by this--\n\n LESBIA [warningly] Boxer!\n\n THE GENERAL. --by this Respondent? Is Edith to be given away by\n him?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH", ". When I was only\n a company officer I had at least the right to expose myself to\n death in the field. Now I'm a General even that resource is cut\n off. [Persuasively drawing his chair nearer to her] Listen to me,\n Lesbia. For the tenth and last time--\n\n LESBIA [interrupting] On Florence's wedding morning, two years\n ago, you said \"For the ninth and last time.\"\n\n THE GENERAL. We are two years older, Lesbia. I'm fifty", "We\n have to dress Edith. Come, Lesbia: come, Leo: we must all help.\n Now, Edith. [Lesbia, Leo, and Edith go out through the tower].\n Collins: we shall want you when Miss Edith's dressed to look over\n her veil and things and see that theyre all right.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, maam. Anything you would like mentioned about Miss\n Lesbia, maam?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. No. She wont have the General. I think you", ".\n\n The Bishop's song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.\n\n THE GENERAL. Reading!\n\n THE BISHOP. What is she reading?\n\n LESBIA. Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o'clock post. She\n wont come out. She wont open the door. And she says she doesnt\n know whether she's going to be married or not till she's finished\n the pamphlet. Did you ever hear such a thing? Do come and speak\n to her.", "can always\n spot me as the greengrocer. It's a fortune to me in these days,\n when you cant hardly tell who any one is or isnt. [He goes out\n through the tower, and immediately returns for a moment to\n announce] The General, maam.\n\n Mrs Bridgenorth rises to receive her brother-in-law, who enters\n resplendent in full-dress uniform, with many medals and orders.\n General Bridgenorth is a well set up man of fifty, with large\n brave nost", "SS. There is such a thing as curiosity, General.\n\n THE GENERAL [furious] Delicacy is thrown away here, Alfred.\n Edith: you had better take Sykes into the study.\n\n The group at the study door breaks up. The General flings himself\n into the last chair on the long side of the table, near the\n garden door. Leo sits at the end, next him, and Mrs Bridgenorth\n next Leo. Reginald returns to the oak chest, to be near Leo; and\n the Bishop goes to his" ], [ ". She has more\n than common imagination and no more than common conception and\n penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words\n and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself\n clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and\n prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that\n understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,\n then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she\n told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed\n bringing out", "In fact,\n thats why I had to divorce him.\n\n THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt\n he?\n\n REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find\n them out for herself without your help.\n\n THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.\n\n LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than\n Reginald. I daresay he's not so", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", " a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she\n have got her divorce if I hadnt beaten her? Nice state of things,\n that!\n\n THE GENERAL [gasping] Do you mean to tell me that you did it in\n cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife?\n\n REGINALD. No, I didn't: I did it to get her rid of me. What would\n you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years\n younger than yourself, and then found that", "could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering\n silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now?\n What can I do now?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other\n men's wives is growing on you; and that I'm your latest.\n\n HOTCHKISS. What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over\n for me!\n\n MRS GEORGE [rising] You wont then? Very well", "waiting for my instructions as to the\n term of the agreement.\n\n REGINALD [impatiently, leaving the hearth and going behind\n Soames] It's no good talking all over the shop like this. We\n shall be here all day. I propose that the agreement holds good\n until the parties are divorced.\n\n SOAMES. They cant be divorced. They will not be married.\n\n REGINALD. But if they cant be divorced, then this will be worse\n than marriage.\n\n MRS BRID", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "; and I dont\n intend to. There are certain rights I will not give any person\n over me.\n\n REGINALD. Well, I think it jolly hard that a man should support\n his wife for years, and lose the chance of getting a really good\n wife, and then have her refuse to be a wife to him.\n\n LESBIA. I'm not going to discuss it with you, Rejjy. If your\n sense of personal honor doesnt make you understand, nothing will.\n\n SOAMES [implacably]", "REGINALD. Youre not going to speak to me again, anyhow, are you?\n Do you suppose I'm going to visit you when you marry him?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I hope so. Surely youre not going to be vindictive,\n Rejjy. Besides, youll have all the advantages I formerly enjoyed.\n Youll be the visitor, the relief, the new face, the fresh news,\n the hopeless attachment: I shall only be the husband.\n\n REGINALD [savagely", "\n are perfectly legal; but do you expect me, as a Bishop, to\n approve of them?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont defend Reginald. He should have kicked you\n out of the house, Mr. Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD [rising] How could I kick him out of the house? He's\n stronger than me: he could have kicked me out if it came to that.\n He did kick me out: what else was it but kicking out, to take my\n wife's affections from me", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", "\n that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her\n neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a\n fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about\n committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the\n hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know\n what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent\n man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", " that if they didnt make our marriage laws reasonable there would\n be a strike against marriage, and that it would begin among the\n propertied classes, where no Government would dare to interfere\n with it.\n\n REGINALD. What did they say to that?\n\n THE BISHOP. The usual thing. Quite agreed with me, but were sure\n that they were the only sensible men in the world, and that the\n least hint of marriage reform would lose them the next election.\n And then lost it all the same: on cordite", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.\n I'm all right.\n\n LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a\n disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home\n with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow\n me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You\n must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt\n you or something.\n", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows", ".\n\n REGINALD. Do, maam. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. [He\n goes into the study].\n\n SYKES [looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss]--?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Too late: you cant save me now, Cecil. Go.\n\n Sykes goes into the study. Mrs George strolls across to Hotchkiss\n and contemplates him curiously.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Useless to prolong this agony. [Rising", " really be hurt if you desert\n us.\n LESBIA } { Better stay, Reginald. You must\n meet him sooner or later.\n\n\n REGINALD. A moment ago, when I wanted to stay, you were all\n shoving me out of the house. Now that I want to go, you wont let\n me.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. I shall send a note to Mr Hotchkiss not to come.\n\n LEO [weeping again] Oh," ], [ "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", "In fact,\n thats why I had to divorce him.\n\n THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt\n he?\n\n REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find\n them out for herself without your help.\n\n THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.\n\n LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than\n Reginald. I daresay he's not so", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "them off to every new visitor. In the\n end you have to be content with his common humanity; and when you\n come down to that, you find out about men what a great English\n poet of my acquaintance used to say about women: that they all\n taste alike. Marry whom you please: at the end of a month he'll\n be Reginald over again. It wasnt worth changing: indeed it wasnt.\n\n LEO. Then it's a mistake to get married.\n\n THE BISHOP. It is, my dear;", ". She has more\n than common imagination and no more than common conception and\n penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words\n and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself\n clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and\n prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that\n understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,\n then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she\n told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed\n bringing out", "REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.\n I'm all right.\n\n LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a\n disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home\n with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow\n me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You\n must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt\n you or something.\n", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "it\n in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and\n Alfred's apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the\n King's personal request--virtually a command--that stopped me\n from resigning my commission. I'd cut Reginald dead if I met him\n in the street.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Besides, Leo's coming. Theyd meet. It's\n impossible, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Oh, I forgot that. That settles", "I must kiss you; but dont any of\n you tell. [She kisses him. They can hardly believe their eyes].\n Have you kept all your promises?\n\n REGINALD. Oh, dont begin bothering about those--\n\n LEO [insisting] Have? You? Kept? Your? Promises? Have you rubbed\n your head with the lotion every night?\n\n REGINALD. Yes, yes. Nearly every night.\n\n LEO. Nearly! I know what that means. Have you worn your liver\n pad", "never saw that hateful creature until that day in\n Court. If he had only shewn her to me before, I should never have\n allowed it.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. You did all this for Leo's sake, Rejjy?\n\n REGINALD [with an unbearable sense of injury] I shouldnt mind a\n bit if it were for Leo's sake. But to have to do it to make room\n for that mushroom-faced serpent--!\n\n THE GENERAL [jumping up] What", "\n REGINALD [breaking loose from her and stumping off past Hotchkiss\n towards the hearth] No, I'm dashed if I'll be adopted by St John.\n You can adopt him if you like.\n\n HOTCHKISS [rising] I suggest that that would really be the better\n plan, Leo. Ive a confession to make to you. I'm not the man you\n took me for. Your objection to Rejjy was that he had low tastes.\n\n REGINALD [turning", "than two. I shall never love\n anybody but Rejjy and Sinjon.\n\n REGINALD. A man with a face like a--\n\n LEO. I wont have it, Rejjy. It's disgusting.\n\n THE BISHOP. You see, my dear, youll exhaust Sinjon's conversation\n too in a week or so. A man is like a phonograph with half-a-dozen\n records. You soon get tired of them all; and yet you have to sit\n at table whilst he reels", " awaiting my instructions.\n\n REGINALD. Well, we dont seem to be getting along, do we?\n\n LEO [out of patience] You said that before, Rejjy. Do not repeat\n yourself.\n\n REGINALD. Oh, bother! [He goes to the garden door and looks out\n gloomily].\n\n SOAMES [rising with the paper in his hands] Psha! [He tears it in\n pieces]. So much for the contract!\n\n THE VOICE OF THE BEADLE.", ". If she were a middle-aged man she would be the\n terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven\n everything, proving that \"Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner\"\n is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving\n everything is to understand nothing.\n\n She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on\n Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs\n Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Les", " a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she\n have got her divorce if I hadnt beaten her? Nice state of things,\n that!\n\n THE GENERAL [gasping] Do you mean to tell me that you did it in\n cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife?\n\n REGINALD. No, I didn't: I did it to get her rid of me. What would\n you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years\n younger than yourself, and then found that", "mortgages were cleared and he was over fifty. And\n then of course he made a fool of himself marrying a child like\n Leo.\n\n THE GENERAL. But to hit her! Absolutely to hit her! He knocked\n her down--knocked her flat down on a flowerbed in the presence of\n his gardener. He! the head of the family! the man that stands\n before the Barmecide and myself as Bridgenorth of Bridgenorth! to\n beat his wife and go off with a low woman and be divorced for", " really be hurt if you desert\n us.\n LESBIA } { Better stay, Reginald. You must\n meet him sooner or later.\n\n\n REGINALD. A moment ago, when I wanted to stay, you were all\n shoving me out of the house. Now that I want to go, you wont let\n me.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. I shall send a note to Mr Hotchkiss not to come.\n\n LEO [weeping again] Oh,", "\n and properly told them youd see them damned first.\n\n THE BISHOP [horrified] No, no, really, Boxer! You must not--\n\n THE GENERAL [impatiently] Oh, of course I dont mean that you used\n those words. But that was the meaning and the spirit of it.\n\n THE BISHOP. Not the spirit, Boxer, I protest. But never mind\n that. The point is that State marriage is already divorced from\n Church marriage. The relations between Leo and Rejjy and Sinjon" ], [ "go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [following] Dont be an ass, Polly.\n\n MRS GEORGE [stopping] Thats better.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Cant you see that I maynt throw Leo over just because\n I should be only too glad to. It would be dishonorable.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Will you be happy if you marry her?\n\n HOTCHKISS. No, great heaven, NO!\n\n MRS GEORGE. Will she", "\n LEO. Oh, how silly the law is! Why cant I marry them both?\n\n THE GENERAL [shocked] Leo!\n\n LEO. Well, I love them both. I should like to marry a lot of men.\n I should like to have Rejjy for every day, and Sinjon for\n concerts and theatres and going out in the evenings, and some\n great austere saint for about once a year at the end of the\n season, and some perfectly blithering idiot of a boy to be quite\n ", "Well, dash my buttons! } together].\n\n It is too late: Leo is already in the kitchen. Collins goes out,\n mutely abandoning a situation which he deplores but has been\n unable to save.\n\n Leo is very pretty, very youthful, very restless, and\n consequently very charming to people who are touched by youth and\n beauty, as well as to those who regard young women as more or\n less appetizing lollipops, and dont regard old women at all.\n Coldly studied, Leo's restlessness is much", "of\n that?\n\n LEO. But there are such lots of stupid women to marry. Why do\n they want to marry us? Besides, Rejjy knows that I'm quite fond\n of him. I like him because he wants me; and I like Sinjon because\n I want him. I feel that I have a duty to Rejjy.\n\n THE GENERAL. Precisely: you have.\n\n LEO. And, of course, Sinjon has the same duty to me.\n\n THE GENERAL. Tut, tut!\n", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "him?\n\n LEO. Will somebody tell me how I'm to arrange to take care of\n Rejjy when I'm married to Sinjon. Rejjy must not be allowed to\n marry anyone else, especially that odious nasty creature that\n told all those wicked lies about him in Court.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Let us draw up the first English partnership deed.\n\n LEO. For shame, Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Somebody must begin, my dear. Ive a very strong\n suspicion that", "men to know quite intimately--to say everything I think of to\n them, and have them say everything they think of to me.\n\n THE BISHOP. So you shall, my dear, if you are lucky. But you know\n you neednt marry them all. Think of all the buttons you would\n have to sew on. Besides, nothing is more dreadful than a husband\n who keeps telling you everything he thinks, and always wants to\n know what you think.\n\n LEO [struck by this] Well, thats very true of Rejjy:", ". If she were a middle-aged man she would be the\n terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven\n everything, proving that \"Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner\"\n is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving\n everything is to understand nothing.\n\n She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on\n Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs\n Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Les", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", ". A fellow with a face like--\n\n LEO. You shant, Rejjy. He has a very fine face.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. And now she says she wants to marry both of\n them, and a lot of other people as well.\n\n LEO. I didnt say I wanted to marry them: I only said I should\n like to marry them.\n\n THE BISHOP. Quite a nice distinction, Leo.\n\n LEO. Just occasionally, you know.\n\n THE BISHOP [s", "them off to every new visitor. In the\n end you have to be content with his common humanity; and when you\n come down to that, you find out about men what a great English\n poet of my acquaintance used to say about women: that they all\n taste alike. Marry whom you please: at the end of a month he'll\n be Reginald over again. It wasnt worth changing: indeed it wasnt.\n\n LEO. Then it's a mistake to get married.\n\n THE BISHOP. It is, my dear;", "\n that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her\n neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a\n fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about\n committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the\n hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know\n what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent\n man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "I have exhausted the conversation of the British Army these\n thirty years; but I dont leave it on that account.\n\n LEO. It's not that Ive exhausted it; but he will keep on\n repeating it when I want to read or go to sleep. And Sinjon\n amuses me. He's so clever.\n\n THE GENERAL [stung] Ha! The old complaint. You all want geniuses\n to marry. This demand for clever men is ridiculous. Somebody must\n marry the plain, honest, stupid fellows. Have you thought", "it\n in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and\n Alfred's apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the\n King's personal request--virtually a command--that stopped me\n from resigning my commission. I'd cut Reginald dead if I met him\n in the street.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Besides, Leo's coming. Theyd meet. It's\n impossible, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Oh, I forgot that. That settles", "bad enough for the two people to be married to one another\n without their both being married to the doctor as well.\n\n LESBIA. That reminds me of something very important. Boxer\n believes in vaccination: I do not. There must be a clause that I\n am to decide on such questions as I think best.\n\n LEO [to the Bishop] Baptism is nearly as important as\n vaccination: isnt it?\n\n THE BISHOP. It used to be considered so, my dear.\n\n LEO. Well, Sinjon", "clever as you; but still he's not\n such a fool as you seem to think him!\n\n THE BISHOP. Quite right, dear: stand up for your husband. I hope\n you will always stand up for all your husbands. [He rises and\n goes to the hearth, where he stands complacently with his back to\n the fireplace, beaming at them all as at a roomful of children].\n\n LEO. Please dont talk as if I wanted to marry a whole regiment.\n For me there can never be more", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", "mortgages were cleared and he was over fifty. And\n then of course he made a fool of himself marrying a child like\n Leo.\n\n THE GENERAL. But to hit her! Absolutely to hit her! He knocked\n her down--knocked her flat down on a flowerbed in the presence of\n his gardener. He! the head of the family! the man that stands\n before the Barmecide and myself as Bridgenorth of Bridgenorth! to\n beat his wife and go off with a low woman and be divorced for", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I" ], [ "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "il. Let me explain. Your parents\n were not Anglicans. You were not, I think, Anglican yourself,\n until your second year at Oxford. They were Positivists. They\n went through the Positivist ceremony at Newton Hall in Fetter\n Lane after entering into the civil contract before the Registrar\n of the West Strand District. I ask you, as an Anglican Catholic,\n was that a marriage?\n\n SYKES [overwhelmed] Great Heavens, no! a thousand times, no. I", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", "ISHOP. You know everybody now, I think.\n\n MRS GEORGE [turning to the railed chair] Who's this?\n\n THE BISHOP. Oh, I beg your pardon, Cecil. Mr Sykes. The\n bridegroom.\n\n MRS GEORGE [to Sykes] Adorned for the sacrifice, arnt you?\n\n SYKES. It seems doubtful whether there is going to be any\n sacrifice.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Well, I want to talk to", ". BRIDGENORTH } { What?\n\n SYKES [rising in amazement] What on earth do you mean, Bishop? My\n parents were married.\n\n HOTCHKISS. You cant remember, Cecil.\n\n SYKES. Well, I never asked my mother to shew me her marriage\n lines, if thats what you mean. What man ever has? I never\n suspected--I never knew--Are you joking? Or have we all gone mad?\n\n THE BISHOP. Dont be alarmed, Cec", "niece. She\n cant control herself any more than they can. And she's a Bishop's\n daughter. That means that she's engaged in social work of all\n sorts: organizing shop assistants and sweated work girls and all\n that. When her blood boils about it (and it boils at least once a\n week) she doesnt care what she says.\n\n REGINALD. Well: you knew that when you proposed to her.\n\n SYKES. Yes; but I didnt know that when we were married I should\n", ".\n\n REGINALD. Do, maam. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. [He\n goes into the study].\n\n SYKES [looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss]--?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Too late: you cant save me now, Cecil. Go.\n\n Sykes goes into the study. Mrs George strolls across to Hotchkiss\n and contemplates him curiously.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Useless to prolong this agony. [Rising", "alarmed. I'm not going to be married.\n\n ALL THE REST. Not!\n\n SYKES [in consternation] Edith! Are you throwing me over?\n\n EDITH. How can I? you have been beforehand with me.\n\n SYKES. On my honor, no. All I said was that I didnt know the law\n when I asked you to be my wife.\n\n EDITH. And you wouldnt have asked me if you had. Is that it?\n\n SYKES. No. I should", "! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh,\n how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And\n now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said:\n I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just\n bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself.\n Thats how it is, you see.\n\n Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat\n on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out", "marriage?\n\n SYKES. I raise no difficulty. But I do beg you to be careful what\n you say about people. You must remember, my dear, that when we\n are married I shall be responsible for everything you say. Only\n last week you said on a public platform that Slattox and Chinnery\n were scoundrels. They could have got a thousand pounds damages\n apiece from me for that if we'd been married at the time.\n\n EDITH [austerely] I never said anything of the sort. I never\n ", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry", "some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far\n from settled.\n\n THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important\n to tell us.\n\n SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?\n\n EDITH. Got married, of course.\n\n THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?\n\n SYKES [j", "we?\n\n SYKES [distractedly] Of course not. Still--I'm perfectly ready--\n at least--if it were not for my mother--Oh, I dont know what to\n do. Ive been so fond of you; and when the worry of the wedding\n was over I should have been so fond of you again--\n\n EDITH [petting him] Come, come! dont make a scene, dear. Youre\n quite right. I dont think a woman doing public work ought to get\n married unless her husband feels about it as she", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI" ], [ "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", "youll allow me to take Cecil's place,\n Miss Bridgenorth--\n\n LEO. Sinjon!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, I forgot. I beg your pardon. [To Edith,\n apologetically] A prior engagement.\n\n EDITH. What! You and Leo! I thought so. Well, hadnt you two\n better get married at once? I dont approve of long engagements.\n The breakfast's ready: the cake's ready: everything's ready. I'll\n", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "[mildly] I shall not take an action, Cecil.\n\n EDITH [to Hotchkiss] Sorry; but you are old enough to know\n better. [To the others] And now since there is to be no wedding,\n we had better get back to our work. Mamma: will you tell Collins\n to cut up the wedding cake into thirty-three pieces for the club\n girls? My not being married is no reason why they should be\n disappointed. [She turns to go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [gallantly] If", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "\n his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause\n of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any\n longer.\n\n LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.\n\n EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.\n\n LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry\n Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my\n looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her", "some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far\n from settled.\n\n THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important\n to tell us.\n\n SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?\n\n EDITH. Got married, of course.\n\n THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?\n\n SYKES [j", "[He sits down\n at the table].\n\n EDITH. Is it understood that Slattox and Chinnery are liars and\n thieves, and that I hope by next Wednesday to have in my hands\n conclusive evidence that Slattox is something much worse?\n\n SYKES. I made no conditions as to that when I proposed to you;\n and now I cant go back. I hope Providence will spare my poor\n mother. I say again I'm ready to marry you.\n\n EDITH. Then I think you shew great", "alarmed. I'm not going to be married.\n\n ALL THE REST. Not!\n\n SYKES [in consternation] Edith! Are you throwing me over?\n\n EDITH. How can I? you have been beforehand with me.\n\n SYKES. On my honor, no. All I said was that I didnt know the law\n when I asked you to be my wife.\n\n EDITH. And you wouldnt have asked me if you had. Is that it?\n\n SYKES. No. I should", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [", "ientious scruple and religious\n impulse have been applauded and deferred to until she has become\n an ethical snob of the first water. Her father's sense of humor\n and her mother's placid balance have done something to save her\n humanity; but her impetuous temper and energetic will,\n unrestrained by any touch of humor or scepticism, carry\n everything before them. Imperious and dogmatic, she takes command\n of the party at once.\n\n EDITH [standing behind Cecil's chair] Cecil" ], [ "man\n wont want her all the time.\n\n LESBIA. There may not be another man.\n\n LEO. Then why on earth should she leave him?\n\n LESBIA. Because she wants to.\n\n LEO. Oh, if people are going to be let do what they want to,\n then I call it simple immorality. [She goes indignantly to the\n oak chest, and perches herself on it close beside Hotchkiss].\n\n REGINALD [watching them sourly] You do it", "\n REGINALD [breaking loose from her and stumping off past Hotchkiss\n towards the hearth] No, I'm dashed if I'll be adopted by St John.\n You can adopt him if you like.\n\n HOTCHKISS [rising] I suggest that that would really be the better\n plan, Leo. Ive a confession to make to you. I'm not the man you\n took me for. Your objection to Rejjy was that he had low tastes.\n\n REGINALD [turning", "go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [following] Dont be an ass, Polly.\n\n MRS GEORGE [stopping] Thats better.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Cant you see that I maynt throw Leo over just because\n I should be only too glad to. It would be dishonorable.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Will you be happy if you marry her?\n\n HOTCHKISS. No, great heaven, NO!\n\n MRS GEORGE. Will she", ". Sorry we shant meet\n again: I should have liked to see more of you for George's sake.\n Good-bye [she moves away from him towards the hearth].\n\n HOTCHKISS [appealing] Zenobia--\n\n MRS. GEORGE. I thought I lead made a difficult conquest. Now I\n see you are only one of those poor petticoat-hunting creatures\n that any woman can pick up. Not for me, thank you. [Inexorable,\n she turns towards the tower to", "Well, dash my buttons! } together].\n\n It is too late: Leo is already in the kitchen. Collins goes out,\n mutely abandoning a situation which he deplores but has been\n unable to save.\n\n Leo is very pretty, very youthful, very restless, and\n consequently very charming to people who are touched by youth and\n beauty, as well as to those who regard young women as more or\n less appetizing lollipops, and dont regard old women at all.\n Coldly studied, Leo's restlessness is much", "The whole face is a battlefield of the passions, quite\n deplorable until she speaks, when an alert sense of fun\n rejuvenates her in a moment, and makes her company irresistible.\n\n All rise except Soames, who sits down. Leo joins Reginald at the\n garden door. Mrs Bridgenorth hurries to the tower to receive her\n guest, and gets as far as Soames's chair when Mrs George appears.\n Hotchkiss, apparently recognizing her, recoils in consternation\n to the", "Mrs George, Lesbia, Leo, and\n Edith].\n\n THE BISHOP. Shall we try to get through the last batch of letters\n whilst they are away, Soames?\n\n SOAMES. Yes, certainly. [To Hotchkiss, who is in his way] Excuse\n me.\n\n The Bishop and Soames go into the study, disturbing Hotchkiss,\n who, plunged in a strange reverie, has forgotten where he is.\n Awakened by Soames, he stares distractedly; then", "be happy when she finds you out?\n\n HOTCHKISS. She's incapable of happiness. But she's not incapable\n of the pleasure of holding a man against his will.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Right, young man. You will tell her, please, that you\n love me: before everybody, mind, the very next time you see her.\n\n HOTCHKISS. But--\n\n MRS GEORGE. Those are my orders, Sinjon. I cant have you marry\n another woman until", "to Cecil. [Mrs Bridgenorth\n comes to him. Lesbia goes into the garden, as before]. Let us go\n into my study.\n\n LEO. But she must come and dress. Look at the hour!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Come, Leo dear. [Leo follows her reluctantly.\n They are about to go into the study with the Bishop].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Do you know, Miss Bridgenorth, I should most awfully\n like to hear what you have to say to", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "chkiss] Youve always talked a precious lot about\n behaving like a gentleman. Well, if you think youve behaved like\n a gentleman to Leo, youre mistaken. And I shall have to take her\n part, remember that.\n\n HOTCHKISS. I understand. Your doors are closed to me.\n\n REGINALD [quickly] Oh no. Dont be hasty. I think I should like\n you to drop in after a while, you know. She gets so cross and\n upset when theres nobody to liven up", "exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your\n acquaintance.\n\n MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor\n I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table\n near the study door].\n\n HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the\n corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I\n can.\n\n MRS GEORGE [turning to face him]", "George is tired of you.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, if I only didnt selfishly want to obey you!\n\n The General comes in from the garden. Mrs George goes half way to\n the garden door to speak to him. Hotchkiss posts himself on the\n hearth.\n\n MRS GEORGE. Where have you been all this time?\n\n THE GENERAL. I'm afraid my nerves were a little upset by our\n conversation. I just went into the garden and had a smoke. I'm\n all", " really be hurt if you desert\n us.\n LESBIA } { Better stay, Reginald. You must\n meet him sooner or later.\n\n\n REGINALD. A moment ago, when I wanted to stay, you were all\n shoving me out of the house. Now that I want to go, you wont let\n me.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. I shall send a note to Mr Hotchkiss not to come.\n\n LEO [weeping again] Oh,", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "of your presence, and for\n your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar\n people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and\n humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes\n it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than\n expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses,\n wouldnt you?\n\n MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Ha", "\n his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause\n of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any\n longer.\n\n LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.\n\n EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.\n\n LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry\n Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my\n looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her", "receive me\n when I call this afternoon.\n\n MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my\n life.\n\n HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George.\n\n MRS GEORGE. He wont be in.\n\n HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone?\n\n MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp\n relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled", "ve made me thoroughly miserable.\n\n REGINALD. Serve you right! [She weeps]. There: dont get into a\n tantrum, Leo.\n\n LESBIA. May one ask who is the mushroom-faced serpent?\n\n LEO. He isnt.\n\n REGINALD. Sinjon Hotchkiss, of course.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Sinjon Hotchkiss! Why, he's coming to the\n wedding!\n\n REGINALD. What! In that case" ], [ ". She has more\n than common imagination and no more than common conception and\n penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words\n and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself\n clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and\n prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that\n understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,\n then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she\n told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed\n bringing out", "In fact,\n thats why I had to divorce him.\n\n THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt\n he?\n\n REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find\n them out for herself without your help.\n\n THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.\n\n LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than\n Reginald. I daresay he's not so", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", " a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she\n have got her divorce if I hadnt beaten her? Nice state of things,\n that!\n\n THE GENERAL [gasping] Do you mean to tell me that you did it in\n cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife?\n\n REGINALD. No, I didn't: I did it to get her rid of me. What would\n you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years\n younger than yourself, and then found that", "could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering\n silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now?\n What can I do now?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other\n men's wives is growing on you; and that I'm your latest.\n\n HOTCHKISS. What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over\n for me!\n\n MRS GEORGE [rising] You wont then? Very well", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "REGINALD. Youre not going to speak to me again, anyhow, are you?\n Do you suppose I'm going to visit you when you marry him?\n\n HOTCHKISS. I hope so. Surely youre not going to be vindictive,\n Rejjy. Besides, youll have all the advantages I formerly enjoyed.\n Youll be the visitor, the relief, the new face, the fresh news,\n the hopeless attachment: I shall only be the husband.\n\n REGINALD [savagely", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "\n are perfectly legal; but do you expect me, as a Bishop, to\n approve of them?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont defend Reginald. He should have kicked you\n out of the house, Mr. Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD [rising] How could I kick him out of the house? He's\n stronger than me: he could have kicked me out if it came to that.\n He did kick me out: what else was it but kicking out, to take my\n wife's affections from me", "waiting for my instructions as to the\n term of the agreement.\n\n REGINALD [impatiently, leaving the hearth and going behind\n Soames] It's no good talking all over the shop like this. We\n shall be here all day. I propose that the agreement holds good\n until the parties are divorced.\n\n SOAMES. They cant be divorced. They will not be married.\n\n REGINALD. But if they cant be divorced, then this will be worse\n than marriage.\n\n MRS BRID", "; and I dont\n intend to. There are certain rights I will not give any person\n over me.\n\n REGINALD. Well, I think it jolly hard that a man should support\n his wife for years, and lose the chance of getting a really good\n wife, and then have her refuse to be a wife to him.\n\n LESBIA. I'm not going to discuss it with you, Rejjy. If your\n sense of personal honor doesnt make you understand, nothing will.\n\n SOAMES [implacably]", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", "\n that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her\n neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a\n fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about\n committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the\n hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know\n what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent\n man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.\n I'm all right.\n\n LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a\n disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home\n with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow\n me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You\n must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt\n you or something.\n", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", " that if they didnt make our marriage laws reasonable there would\n be a strike against marriage, and that it would begin among the\n propertied classes, where no Government would dare to interfere\n with it.\n\n REGINALD. What did they say to that?\n\n THE BISHOP. The usual thing. Quite agreed with me, but were sure\n that they were the only sensible men in the world, and that the\n least hint of marriage reform would lose them the next election.\n And then lost it all the same: on cordite", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows", "Make my excuses.\n Forget me. Farewell. [He makes for the door and is confronted by\n Mrs George entering]. Too late: I'm lost. [He turns back and\n throws himself desperately into the chair nearest the study door;\n that being the furthest away from her].\n\n MRS GEORGE [coming to the hearth and addressing Reginald] Mr\n Bridgenorth: will you oblige me by leaving me with this young\n man. I want to talk to him like a mother, on YOUR business", ".\n\n REGINALD. Do, maam. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. [He\n goes into the study].\n\n SYKES [looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss]--?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Too late: you cant save me now, Cecil. Go.\n\n Sykes goes into the study. Mrs George strolls across to Hotchkiss\n and contemplates him curiously.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Useless to prolong this agony. [Rising" ], [ "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", "In fact,\n thats why I had to divorce him.\n\n THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt\n he?\n\n REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find\n them out for herself without your help.\n\n THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.\n\n LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than\n Reginald. I daresay he's not so", "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", "wicked with. I so seldom feel wicked; and, when I do, it's such a\n pity to waste it merely because it's too silly to confess to a\n real grown-up man.\n\n REGINALD. This is the kind of thing, you know [Helplessly] Well,\n there it is!\n\n THE GENERAL [decisively] Alice: this is a job for the Barmecide.\n He's a Bishop: it's his duty to talk to Leo. I can stand a good\n ", "\n that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her\n neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a\n fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about\n committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the\n hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know\n what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent\n man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to", "\n REGINALD [breaking loose from her and stumping off past Hotchkiss\n towards the hearth] No, I'm dashed if I'll be adopted by St John.\n You can adopt him if you like.\n\n HOTCHKISS [rising] I suggest that that would really be the better\n plan, Leo. Ive a confession to make to you. I'm not the man you\n took me for. Your objection to Rejjy was that he had low tastes.\n\n REGINALD [turning", "I must kiss you; but dont any of\n you tell. [She kisses him. They can hardly believe their eyes].\n Have you kept all your promises?\n\n REGINALD. Oh, dont begin bothering about those--\n\n LEO [insisting] Have? You? Kept? Your? Promises? Have you rubbed\n your head with the lotion every night?\n\n REGINALD. Yes, yes. Nearly every night.\n\n LEO. Nearly! I know what that means. Have you worn your liver\n pad", "REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.\n I'm all right.\n\n LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a\n disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home\n with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow\n me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You\n must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt\n you or something.\n", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows", ". How can I? Leo's coming.\n\n REGINALD. Well, she wont mind.\n\n THE GENERAL. Wont mind!!!!\n\n LESBIA. Dont talk nonsense, Rejjy; and be off with you.\n\n THE GENERAL [with biting sarcasm] At school you lead a theory\n that women liked being knocked down, I remember.\n\n REGINALD. Youre a nice, chivalrous, brotherly sort of swine, you\n are.\n\n THE GENER", "and thats the truth.\n\n LEO [suddenly whimpering] Oh Rejjy [she runs to him and kisses\n him].\n\n REGINALD [wrathfully] Be off. [She returns weeping to her seat].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [petting Leo, but speaking to the company at\n large] But isnt all this great nonsense? What likelihood is there\n of any of us committing a crime?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh yes, I assure you. I went into the matter", ". She has more\n than common imagination and no more than common conception and\n penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words\n and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself\n clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and\n prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that\n understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,\n then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she\n told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed\n bringing out", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "them off to every new visitor. In the\n end you have to be content with his common humanity; and when you\n come down to that, you find out about men what a great English\n poet of my acquaintance used to say about women: that they all\n taste alike. Marry whom you please: at the end of a month he'll\n be Reginald over again. It wasnt worth changing: indeed it wasnt.\n\n LEO. Then it's a mistake to get married.\n\n THE BISHOP. It is, my dear;", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "] Was it? by George!\n\n LEO. I said slovenly habits. I never thought he had really low\n tastes until I saw that woman in court. How he could have chosen\n such a creature and let her write to him after--\n\n REGINALD. Is this fair? I never--\n\n HOTCHKISS. Of course you didnt, Rejjy. Dont be silly, Leo. It's I\n who really have low tastes.\n\n LEO. You!\n\n HOTCHKISS.", "it\n in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and\n Alfred's apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the\n King's personal request--virtually a command--that stopped me\n from resigning my commission. I'd cut Reginald dead if I met him\n in the street.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Besides, Leo's coming. Theyd meet. It's\n impossible, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Oh, I forgot that. That settles", "\n are perfectly legal; but do you expect me, as a Bishop, to\n approve of them?\n\n THE GENERAL. I dont defend Reginald. He should have kicked you\n out of the house, Mr. Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD [rising] How could I kick him out of the house? He's\n stronger than me: he could have kicked me out if it came to that.\n He did kick me out: what else was it but kicking out, to take my\n wife's affections from me" ], [ "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "youll allow me to take Cecil's place,\n Miss Bridgenorth--\n\n LEO. Sinjon!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, I forgot. I beg your pardon. [To Edith,\n apologetically] A prior engagement.\n\n EDITH. What! You and Leo! I thought so. Well, hadnt you two\n better get married at once? I dont approve of long engagements.\n The breakfast's ready: the cake's ready: everything's ready. I'll\n", "getting late. Wheres Edith? Hasnt she got into her veil and\n orange blossoms yet?\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do go and hurry her, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA [going out through the tower] Come with me, Leo.\n\n LEO [following Lesbia out] Yes, certainly.\n\n The Bishop goes over to his wife and sits down, taking her hand\n and kissing it by way of beginning a conversation with her.\n\n THE BISHOP. Alice: Ive had another", "! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh,\n how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And\n now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said:\n I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just\n bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself.\n Thats how it is, you see.\n\n Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat\n on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "ientious scruple and religious\n impulse have been applauded and deferred to until she has become\n an ethical snob of the first water. Her father's sense of humor\n and her mother's placid balance have done something to save her\n humanity; but her impetuous temper and energetic will,\n unrestrained by any touch of humor or scepticism, carry\n everything before them. Imperious and dogmatic, she takes command\n of the party at once.\n\n EDITH [standing behind Cecil's chair] Cecil", "[mildly] I shall not take an action, Cecil.\n\n EDITH [to Hotchkiss] Sorry; but you are old enough to know\n better. [To the others] And now since there is to be no wedding,\n we had better get back to our work. Mamma: will you tell Collins\n to cut up the wedding cake into thirty-three pieces for the club\n girls? My not being married is no reason why they should be\n disappointed. [She turns to go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [gallantly] If", "KES. I dont know. There wasnt a soul in the church when we were\n married except the pew opener and the curate who did the job.\n\n EDITH. They had all gone home.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. But the bridesmaids?\n\n COLLINS. Me and the beadle have been all over the place in a\n couple of taxies, maam; and weve collected them all. They were a\n good deal disappointed on account of their dresses, and thought\n it rather irregular;", ". But we're all our own and one\n another's equals, arnt we? So perhaps when youve quite done\n talking about yourselves, we shall get to whatever business\n Sinjon came about.\n\n HOTCHKISS [coming off the table hastily] my dear fellow. I beg a\n thousand pardons. Oh! true, It's about the wedding?\n\n THE GENERAL. What about the wedding?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Well, we cant get our man up to the scratch. Cecil has", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", "some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far\n from settled.\n\n THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important\n to tell us.\n\n SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?\n\n EDITH. Got married, of course.\n\n THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?\n\n SYKES [j", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", ".\n\n The Bishop's song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.\n\n THE GENERAL. Reading!\n\n THE BISHOP. What is she reading?\n\n LESBIA. Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o'clock post. She\n wont come out. She wont open the door. And she says she doesnt\n know whether she's going to be married or not till she's finished\n the pamphlet. Did you ever hear such a thing? Do come and speak\n to her.", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H" ], [ "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "ientious scruple and religious\n impulse have been applauded and deferred to until she has become\n an ethical snob of the first water. Her father's sense of humor\n and her mother's placid balance have done something to save her\n humanity; but her impetuous temper and energetic will,\n unrestrained by any touch of humor or scepticism, carry\n everything before them. Imperious and dogmatic, she takes command\n of the party at once.\n\n EDITH [standing behind Cecil's chair] Cecil", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "youll allow me to take Cecil's place,\n Miss Bridgenorth--\n\n LEO. Sinjon!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, I forgot. I beg your pardon. [To Edith,\n apologetically] A prior engagement.\n\n EDITH. What! You and Leo! I thought so. Well, hadnt you two\n better get married at once? I dont approve of long engagements.\n The breakfast's ready: the cake's ready: everything's ready. I'll\n", "\n his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause\n of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any\n longer.\n\n LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.\n\n EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.\n\n LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry\n Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my\n looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her", "[mildly] I shall not take an action, Cecil.\n\n EDITH [to Hotchkiss] Sorry; but you are old enough to know\n better. [To the others] And now since there is to be no wedding,\n we had better get back to our work. Mamma: will you tell Collins\n to cut up the wedding cake into thirty-three pieces for the club\n girls? My not being married is no reason why they should be\n disappointed. [She turns to go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [gallantly] If", "some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far\n from settled.\n\n THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important\n to tell us.\n\n SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?\n\n EDITH. Got married, of course.\n\n THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?\n\n SYKES [j", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [", "the children to be his\n exclusively, he should pay a certain sum for the risk and trouble\n of bringing them into the world: say a thousand pounds apiece.\n The interest on this could go towards the support of the child as\n long as we live together. But the principal would be my property.\n In that way, if Cecil took the child away from me, I should at\n least be paid for what it had cost me.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [putting down her knitting in amazement] Edith!\n Who ever heard of", ". But we're all our own and one\n another's equals, arnt we? So perhaps when youve quite done\n talking about yourselves, we shall get to whatever business\n Sinjon came about.\n\n HOTCHKISS [coming off the table hastily] my dear fellow. I beg a\n thousand pardons. Oh! true, It's about the wedding?\n\n THE GENERAL. What about the wedding?\n\n HOTCHKISS. Well, we cant get our man up to the scratch. Cecil has" ], [ "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "ientious scruple and religious\n impulse have been applauded and deferred to until she has become\n an ethical snob of the first water. Her father's sense of humor\n and her mother's placid balance have done something to save her\n humanity; but her impetuous temper and energetic will,\n unrestrained by any touch of humor or scepticism, carry\n everything before them. Imperious and dogmatic, she takes command\n of the party at once.\n\n EDITH [standing behind Cecil's chair] Cecil", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "poor Cecil.\n\n REGINALD [scandalized] Well!\n\n EDITH. Who is poor Cecil, pray?\n\n HOTCHKISS. One always calls a man that on his wedding morning: I\n dont know why. I'm his best man, you know. Dont you think it\n gives me a certain right to be present in Cecil's interest?\n\n THE GENERAL [gravely] There is such a thing as delicacy, Mr\n Hotchkiss.\n\n HOTCHKI", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "youll allow me to take Cecil's place,\n Miss Bridgenorth--\n\n LEO. Sinjon!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, I forgot. I beg your pardon. [To Edith,\n apologetically] A prior engagement.\n\n EDITH. What! You and Leo! I thought so. Well, hadnt you two\n better get married at once? I dont approve of long engagements.\n The breakfast's ready: the cake's ready: everything's ready. I'll\n", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [", "\n his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause\n of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any\n longer.\n\n LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.\n\n EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.\n\n LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry\n Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my\n looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her", "the children to be his\n exclusively, he should pay a certain sum for the risk and trouble\n of bringing them into the world: say a thousand pounds apiece.\n The interest on this could go towards the support of the child as\n long as we live together. But the principal would be my property.\n In that way, if Cecil took the child away from me, I should at\n least be paid for what it had cost me.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [putting down her knitting in amazement] Edith!\n Who ever heard of", "marriage?\n\n SYKES. I raise no difficulty. But I do beg you to be careful what\n you say about people. You must remember, my dear, that when we\n are married I shall be responsible for everything you say. Only\n last week you said on a public platform that Slattox and Chinnery\n were scoundrels. They could have got a thousand pounds damages\n apiece from me for that if we'd been married at the time.\n\n EDITH [austerely] I never said anything of the sort. I never\n ", "] Will you tell me this, any of you? how is it\n that we always get talking about Hotchkiss when our business is\n about Edith? [He fumes up the kitchen to the tower and back to\n his chair].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Will somebody tell me how the world is to go on\n if nobody is to get married?\n\n SYKES. Will somebody tell me what an honorable man and a sincere\n Anglican is to propose to a woman whom he loves and who loves him\n and wont marry", "CHKISS. Have you the least idea of what they are talking\n about, Mr Alderman?\n\n COLLINS. Oh, thats all right, Sir. The particulars dont matter. I\n never read the report of a Committee: after all, what can they\n say, that you dont know? You pick it up as they go on talking.[He\n goes to the corner of the table and speaks across it to the\n company]. Well, my Lord and Miss Edith and Madam and Gentlemen,\n it's like this. Marriage is toler" ], [ "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", "\n THE BISHOP [stopping] A chapter in my history of marriage. I'm\n just at the Roman business, you know.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming from the garden door to the chair Mrs\n Bridgenorth has just left, and sitting down] Not more Ritualism,\n I hope, Alfred?\n\n THE BISHOP. Oh no. I mean ancient Rome. [He seats himself on the\n edge of the table]. Ive just come to the period when the\n propertied classes refused to get married and went in", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "weakness of character; and\n instead of taking advantage of it I shall set you a better\n example. I want to know is this true. [She produces a pamphlet\n and takes it to the Bishop; then sits down between Hotchkiss and\n her mother].\n\n THE BISHOP [reading the title] Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO\n DO? BY A WOMAN WHO HAS DONE IT. May I ask, my dear, what she did?\n\n EDITH. She got married. When she had three children", "That sounds as if you disapproved.\n\n SOAMES. It is not for me to approve or disapprove. I do the work\n that comes to my hand from my ecclesiastical superior.\n\n THE BISHOP. Dont be uncharitable, Anthony. You must give us your\n best advice.\n\n SOAMES. My advice to you all is to do your duty by taking the\n Christian vows of celibacy and poverty. The Church was founded\n to put an end to marriage and to put an end to property.", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", "question of abolishing marriage; but there is a very pressing\nquestion of improving its conditions. I have never met anybody really\nin favor of maintaining marriage as it exists in England to-day. A Roman\nCatholic may obey his Church by assenting verbally to the doctrine of\nindissoluble marriage. But nobody worth counting believes directly,\nfrankly, and instinctively that when a person commits a murder and is\nput into prison for twenty years for it, the free and innocent husband\nor wife of that murderer should remain bound by the marriage. To put it\nbriefly", "were\n first made human, it could never become divine.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Oh, do be sensible about this. People must get\n married. What would you have said if Cecil's parents had not been\n married?\n\n THE BISHOP. They were not, my dear.\n\n HOTCHKISS } { Hallo!\n REGINALD } { What d'ye mean?\n THE GENERAL } { Eh?\n LEO } { Not married!\n MRS", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "is happily married, and that love\n is a necessary of life to her, but that she must have, high above\n all her lovers--\n\n THE BISHOP. She has several apparently--\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. --some great man who will never know her, never\n touch her, as she is on earth, but whom she can meet in Heaven\n when she has risen above all the everyday vulgarities of earthly\n love.\n\n THE BISHOP [rising] Excellent. Very good for her; and no trouble\n", "il. Let me explain. Your parents\n were not Anglicans. You were not, I think, Anglican yourself,\n until your second year at Oxford. They were Positivists. They\n went through the Positivist ceremony at Newton Hall in Fetter\n Lane after entering into the civil contract before the Registrar\n of the West Strand District. I ask you, as an Anglican Catholic,\n was that a marriage?\n\n SYKES [overwhelmed] Great Heavens, no! a thousand times, no. I", "talking about the Church.\n\n SOAMES. Very well, then: go to your doom, both of you. There is\n only one religion for me: that which my soul knows to be true;\n but even irreligion has one tenet; and that is the sacredness of\n marriage. You two are on the verge of deadly sin. Do you deny\n that?\n\n HOTCHKISS. You forget, Anthony: the marriage itself is the deadly\n sin according to you.\n\n SOAMES. The question is not now", "the Roman Catholic priesthood is a standing protest against its\ncompatibility with the higher life. St. Paul's reluctant sanction of\nmarriage; his personal protest that he countenanced it of necessity and\nagainst his own conviction; his contemptuous \"better to marry than to\nburn\" is only out of date in respect of his belief that the end of the\nworld was at hand and that there was therefore no longer any population\nquestion. His instinctive recoil from its worst aspect as a slavery to\npleasure which induces two people to accept slavery to one another", ". BRIDGENORTH } { What?\n\n SYKES [rising in amazement] What on earth do you mean, Bishop? My\n parents were married.\n\n HOTCHKISS. You cant remember, Cecil.\n\n SYKES. Well, I never asked my mother to shew me her marriage\n lines, if thats what you mean. What man ever has? I never\n suspected--I never knew--Are you joking? Or have we all gone mad?\n\n THE BISHOP. Dont be alarmed, Cec", "to Cecil. [Mrs Bridgenorth\n comes to him. Lesbia goes into the garden, as before]. Let us go\n into my study.\n\n LEO. But she must come and dress. Look at the hour!\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Come, Leo dear. [Leo follows her reluctantly.\n They are about to go into the study with the Bishop].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Do you know, Miss Bridgenorth, I should most awfully\n like to hear what you have to say to" ], [ "the table].\n\n The Bishop comes out of his study. He is still a slim active man,\n spare of flesh, and younger by temperament than his brothers. He\n has a delicate skin, fine hands, a salient nose with chin to\n match, a short beard which accentuates his sharp chin by\n bristling forward, clever humorous eyes, not without a glint of\n mischief in them, ready bright speech, and the ways of a\n successful man who is always interested in himself and generally\n rather well pleased with himself. When Lesbia", ".\n\n The Bishop's song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.\n\n THE GENERAL. Reading!\n\n THE BISHOP. What is she reading?\n\n LESBIA. Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o'clock post. She\n wont come out. She wont open the door. And she says she doesnt\n know whether she's going to be married or not till she's finished\n the pamphlet. Did you ever hear such a thing? Do come and speak\n to her.", "to\n touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke\n to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my\n salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough:\n I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I\n have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for\n my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier\n in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did", "my lord, you. For some reason that I never could\n make out, she has forbidden me to talk about you, or to let her\n meet you. Ive asked her to come here of a wedding morning to help\n with the flowers or the like; and she has always refused. But if\n you order her to come as her Bishop, she'll come. She has some\n very strange fancies, has Mrs George. Send your ring to her, my\n lord--he official ring--send it by some very stylish gentleman--\n perhaps Mr Hotchkiss here", "weakness of character; and\n instead of taking advantage of it I shall set you a better\n example. I want to know is this true. [She produces a pamphlet\n and takes it to the Bishop; then sits down between Hotchkiss and\n her mother].\n\n THE BISHOP [reading the title] Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO\n DO? BY A WOMAN WHO HAS DONE IT. May I ask, my dear, what she did?\n\n EDITH. She got married. When she had three children", "Mrs George, Lesbia, Leo, and\n Edith].\n\n THE BISHOP. Shall we try to get through the last batch of letters\n whilst they are away, Soames?\n\n SOAMES. Yes, certainly. [To Hotchkiss, who is in his way] Excuse\n me.\n\n The Bishop and Soames go into the study, disturbing Hotchkiss,\n who, plunged in a strange reverie, has forgotten where he is.\n Awakened by Soames, he stares distractedly; then", ".\n\nThe Bishop is lucky enough to have a XII century palace. The palace\nitself has been lucky enough to escape being carved up into XV century\nGothic, or shaved into XVIII century ashlar, or \"restored\" by a XIX\ncentury builder and a Victorian architect with a deep sense of the\numbrella-like gentlemanliness of XIV century vaulting. The present\noccupant, A. Chelsea, unofficially Alfred Bridgenorth, appreciates\nNorman work. He has, by adroit complaints of the discomfort of the\nplace, induced the", " be legally responsible if she libelled anybody, though all her\n property is protected against me as if I were the lowest thief\n and cadger. This morning somebody sent me Belfort Bax's essays on\n Men's Wrongs; and they have been a perfect eye-opener to me.\n Bishop: I'm not thinking of myself: I would face anything for\n Edith. But my mother and sisters are wholly dependent on my\n property. I'd rather have to cut off an inch from my right arm\n than a hundred a year from", "\n says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it?\n\n SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not\n matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the\n hearth].\n\n THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants\n you to hear.\n\n SOAMES. I am listening.\n\n THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now.\n\n MRS GEORGE.", "! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh,\n how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And\n now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said:\n I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just\n bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself.\n Thats how it is, you see.\n\n Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat\n on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out", "of Babel, as if the builders, anticipating our modern\nideas and instinctively defying them, had resolved to show how much\nmaterial they could lavish on a house built for the glory of God,\ninstead of keeping a competitive eye on the advantage of sending in the\nlowest tender, and scientifically calculating how little material would\nbe enough to prevent the whole affair from tumbling down by its own\nweight.\n\nThe kitchen is the Bishop's favorite room. This is not at all because\nhe is a man of humble mind; but because the kitchen is one of", "so taken aback by this that--Well\n I never!!! Why! shes at the church at this moment, waiting to see\n the wedding.\n\n THE BISHOP. Then produce her. [Collins shakes his head].Come,\n Collins! confess. Theres no such person.\n\n COLLINS. There is, my lord: there is, I assure you. You ask\n George. It's true I cant produce her; but you can, my lord.\n\n THE BISHOP. I!\n\n COLLINS. Yes,", "rises and turns\n to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods\n understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either.\n\n THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no\n children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married.\n\n MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do.\n\n THE BISHOP. What! The sexton?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that", "the coal merchant's\n wife, could you?\n\n THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it.\n\n THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to\n laugh, isnt it?\n\n MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from\n a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell.\n\n THE BISHOP. Neither", "Bishop.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [coming back from the study with a knitting\n basket] Here he is. [She resumes her seat, and knits].\n Soames comes in in cassock and biretta. He salutes the company by\n blessing them with two fingers.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Take my place, Mr Soames. [He gives up his chair to\n him, and retires to the oak chest, on which he seats himself].\n\n THE BISHOP. No longer Mr Soames, Sin", "when it is drawn up it will be so much worse than\n the existing law that you will all prefer getting married. We\n shall therefore be doing the greatest possible service to\n morality by just trying how the new system would work.\n\n LESBIA [suddenly reminding them of her forgotten presence as she\n stands thoughtfully in the garden doorway] Ive been thinking.\n\n THE BISHOP [to Hotchkiss] Nothing like making people think: is\n there, Sinjon?\n\n LESBIA [coming to the table, on the", "join us, my love. [Mrs\n Bridgenorth goes into the study]. Soames is my chaplain, Mr\n Collins. The great difficulty about Bishops in the Church of\n England to-day is that the affairs of the diocese make it\n necessary that a Bishop should be before everything a man of\n business, capable of sticking to his desk for sixteen hours a\n day. But the result of having Bishops of this sort is that the\n spiritual interests of the Church, and its influence on the souls\n and imaginations of the people", "itting down cosily beside her] Quite so. Sometimes a\n poet, sometimes a Bishop, sometimes a fairy prince, sometimes\n somebody quite indescribable, and sometimes nobody at all.\n\n LEO. Yes: thats just it. How did you know?\n\n THE BISHOP. Oh, I should say most imaginative and cultivated\n young women feel like that. I wouldnt give a rap for one who\n didnt. Shakespear pointed out long ago that a woman wanted a\n Sunday husband as well as a weekday one. But, as", "not ordained for me. [More quietly]\n Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I\n have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are\n afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence.\n\n SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired?\n\n THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush.\n\n MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I\n have gone through: I have not fallen", "has founded to cast out and replace by the communion of\n saints. I learnt that from every marriage settlement I drew up as\n a solicitor no less than from inspired revelation. You have set\n yourselves here to put your sin before you in black and white;\n and you cant agree upon or endure one article of it.\n\n SYKES. It's certainly rather odd that the whole thing seems to\n fall to pieces the moment you touch it.\n\n THE BISHOP. You see, when you give the devil fair play he loses" ], [ "my lord.\n\n THE BISHOP. We have got into many of their ways. What do you\n think of the contract system, Collins?\n\n COLLINS. Well, my lord, when theres a question of a contract, I\n always say, shew it to me on paper. If it's to be talk, let it be\n talk; but if it's to be a contract, down with it in black and\n white; and then we shall know what we're about.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Quite right,", "the table].\n\n The Bishop comes out of his study. He is still a slim active man,\n spare of flesh, and younger by temperament than his brothers. He\n has a delicate skin, fine hands, a salient nose with chin to\n match, a short beard which accentuates his sharp chin by\n bristling forward, clever humorous eyes, not without a glint of\n mischief in them, ready bright speech, and the ways of a\n successful man who is always interested in himself and generally\n rather well pleased with himself. When Lesbia", "when it is drawn up it will be so much worse than\n the existing law that you will all prefer getting married. We\n shall therefore be doing the greatest possible service to\n morality by just trying how the new system would work.\n\n LESBIA [suddenly reminding them of her forgotten presence as she\n stands thoughtfully in the garden doorway] Ive been thinking.\n\n THE BISHOP [to Hotchkiss] Nothing like making people think: is\n there, Sinjon?\n\n LESBIA [coming to the table, on the", "is happily married, and that love\n is a necessary of life to her, but that she must have, high above\n all her lovers--\n\n THE BISHOP. She has several apparently--\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. --some great man who will never know her, never\n touch her, as she is on earth, but whom she can meet in Heaven\n when she has risen above all the everyday vulgarities of earthly\n love.\n\n THE BISHOP [rising] Excellent. Very good for her; and no trouble\n", "has founded to cast out and replace by the communion of\n saints. I learnt that from every marriage settlement I drew up as\n a solicitor no less than from inspired revelation. You have set\n yourselves here to put your sin before you in black and white;\n and you cant agree upon or endure one article of it.\n\n SYKES. It's certainly rather odd that the whole thing seems to\n fall to pieces the moment you touch it.\n\n THE BISHOP. You see, when you give the devil fair play he loses", "his father died--\n by a curious stroke of poetic justice he died of scarlet fever,\n and was found to have had a perfectly sound heart--I ordained\n Soames and made him my chaplain. He is now quite happy. He is a\n celibate; fasts strictly on Fridays and throughout Lent; wears a\n cassock and biretta; and has more legal business to do than ever\n he had in his old office in Ely Place. And he sets me free for\n the spiritual and scholarly pursuits proper to a", "that the relation they are tempted to contract is so\nintensely personal, and the vows made under the influence of its\ntransient infatuation so sacred and enduring, that only an atrociously\nwicked man could make light of or forget them. What is more, as the\nsame fantastic errors are inculcated in men, and the conscientious ones\ntherefore feel bound in honor to stand by what they have promised,\none of the surest methods to obtain a husband is to practise on his\nsusceptibilities until he is either carried away into a promise", "as well, my lord, to go on with the\n contract while we're waiting. The truth is, we shall none of us\n have much of a look-in when Mrs George comes; so we had better\n finish the writing part of the business before she arrives.\n\n HOTCHKISS. I think I have the preliminaries down all right.\n [Reading] 'Memorandum of Agreement made this day of blank blank\n between blank blank of blank blank in the County of blank,\n Esquire, hereinafter called the Gentle", "BISHOP. You must give the devil fair play, Boxer. Until you\n have heard and weighed his case you have no right to condemn him.\n I'm sorry you have been kept waiting twenty minutes; but I myself\n have waited twenty years for this to happen. Ive often wrestled\n with the temptation to pray that it might not happen in my own\n household. Perhaps it was a presentiment that it might become a\n part of our old Bridgenorth burden that made me warn our\n Governments so earnestly that unless the law of marriage", "Mr Alderman. Let us draft it at once. May\n I go into the study for writing materials, Bishop?\n\n THE BISHOP. Do, Sinjon.\n\n Hotchkiss goes into the library.\n\n COLLINS. If I might point out a difficulty, my lord--\n\n THE BISHOP. Certainly. [He goes to the fourth chair from the\n General's left, but before sitting down, courteously points to\n the chair at the end of the table next the hearth]. Wont you sit\n down, Mr", "my lord, you. For some reason that I never could\n make out, she has forbidden me to talk about you, or to let her\n meet you. Ive asked her to come here of a wedding morning to help\n with the flowers or the like; and she has always refused. But if\n you order her to come as her Bishop, she'll come. She has some\n very strange fancies, has Mrs George. Send your ring to her, my\n lord--he official ring--send it by some very stylish gentleman--\n perhaps Mr Hotchkiss here", "\n THE BISHOP [stopping] A chapter in my history of marriage. I'm\n just at the Roman business, you know.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming from the garden door to the chair Mrs\n Bridgenorth has just left, and sitting down] Not more Ritualism,\n I hope, Alfred?\n\n THE BISHOP. Oh no. I mean ancient Rome. [He seats himself on the\n edge of the table]. Ive just come to the period when the\n propertied classes refused to get married and went in", ".\n\n THE BISHOP. The army doesnt attract women: the Church does.\n\n REGINALD. Do you consider it right to let them? They may be\n married women, you know.\n\n THE BISHOP. They always are. This one is. [To Mrs Bridgenorth]\n Dont you think her letters are quite the best love-letters I get?\n [To the two men] Poor Alice has to read my love-letters aloud to\n me at breakfast, when theyre worth it.\n\n M", "to\n touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke\n to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my\n salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough:\n I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I\n have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for\n my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier\n in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did", "That sounds as if you disapproved.\n\n SOAMES. It is not for me to approve or disapprove. I do the work\n that comes to my hand from my ecclesiastical superior.\n\n THE BISHOP. Dont be uncharitable, Anthony. You must give us your\n best advice.\n\n SOAMES. My advice to you all is to do your duty by taking the\n Christian vows of celibacy and poverty. The Church was founded\n to put an end to marriage and to put an end to property.", "bad enough for the two people to be married to one another\n without their both being married to the doctor as well.\n\n LESBIA. That reminds me of something very important. Boxer\n believes in vaccination: I do not. There must be a clause that I\n am to decide on such questions as I think best.\n\n LEO [to the Bishop] Baptism is nearly as important as\n vaccination: isnt it?\n\n THE BISHOP. It used to be considered so, my dear.\n\n LEO. Well, Sinjon", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", ", very soon begins to go rapidly to\n the devil--\n\n EDITH [shocked] Papa!\n\n THE BISHOP. I am speaking technically, not in Boxer's manner.\n Indeed the Bishops themselves went so far in that direction that\n they gained a reputation for being spiritually the stupidest men\n in the country and commercially the sharpest. I found a way out\n of this difficulty. Soames was my solicitor. I found that Soames,\n though a very capable man of business, had a romantic secret his-", "him?\n\n LEO. Will somebody tell me how I'm to arrange to take care of\n Rejjy when I'm married to Sinjon. Rejjy must not be allowed to\n marry anyone else, especially that odious nasty creature that\n told all those wicked lies about him in Court.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Let us draw up the first English partnership deed.\n\n LEO. For shame, Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Somebody must begin, my dear. Ive a very strong\n suspicion that", "\n never thought of that. I'm a child of sin. [He collapses into the\n railed chair].\n\n THE BISHOP. Oh, come, come! You are no more a child of sin than\n any Jew, or Mohammedan, or Nonconformist, or anyone else born\n outside the Church. But you see how it affects my view of the\n situation. To me there is only one marriage that is holy: the\n Church's sacrament of marriage. Outside that, I can recognize no\n distinction between one civil contract" ], [ "wife and stands by her.\n\n HOTCHKISS [to Edith] Of course I'll go if you wish me to. But\n Cecil's objection to go through with it was so entirely on public\n grounds--\n\n EDITH [with quick suspicion] His objection?\n\n SYKES. Sinjon: you have no right to say that. I expressly said\n that I'm ready to go through with it.\n\n EDITH. Cecil: do you mean to say that you have been raising\n difficulties about our", "Cecil: this is all wrong. Youve no business\n here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! youre the bridegroom.\n\n SYKES [coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged\n desperation] Ive come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith\n I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for\n legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at\n your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I\n protest. [He sits down", "\n THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. With Cecil?\n\n EDITH. Yes.\n\n THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?\n\n No reply. Blank silence.\n\n SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.\n\n EDITH. Tell them yourself.\n\n The General comes in from the garden.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me\n with", "be\n married? Are you, Miss Bridgenorth?\n\n Before Edith has time to answer her mother returns with Leo and\n Lesbia.\n\n LEO. Yes, here she is, of course. I told you I heard her dash\n downstairs. [She comes to the end of the table next the\n fireplace].\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [transfixed in the middle of the kitchen] And\n Cecil!!\n\n LESBIA. And Sinjon!\n\n THE BISHOP. Edith wishes to speak", " lend Leo my veil and things.\n\n THE BISHOP. I'm afraid they must wait until the decree is made\n absolute, my dear. And the license is not transferable.\n\n EDITH. Oh well, it cant be helped. Is there anything else before\n I go off to the Club?\n\n SYKES. You dont seem much disappointed, Edith. I cant help saying\n that much.\n\n EDITH. And you cant help looking enormously relieved, Cecil. We\n shant be any worse friends, shall", "and\n beginning life, this dreadful creature would be let out to\n disgrace them all, and prevent the two girls getting decently\n married, and drive the son out of the country perhaps. Is that\n really the law? Am I to understand that if Cecil commits a mur-\n der, or forges, or steals, or becomes an atheist, I cant get\n divorced from him?\n\n THE BISHOP. Yes, my dear. That is so. You must take him for\n better for worse.\n\n EDITH", ".\n\n SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be\n liable, because you will not be his wife in law.\n\n EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.\n\n COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action\n against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I\n settle it?\n\n EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.\n\n COLLINS. What for, miss, if", "OP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's\n daughter.\n\n SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith\n work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to\n spare her that; and when my mother dies--\n\n EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I\n shall keep your house.\n\n SYKES. Oh, that!\n\n REGINALD. You", "youll allow me to take Cecil's place,\n Miss Bridgenorth--\n\n LEO. Sinjon!\n\n HOTCHKISS. Oh, I forgot. I beg your pardon. [To Edith,\n apologetically] A prior engagement.\n\n EDITH. What! You and Leo! I thought so. Well, hadnt you two\n better get married at once? I dont approve of long engagements.\n The breakfast's ready: the cake's ready: everything's ready. I'll\n", "\n his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause\n of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any\n longer.\n\n LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.\n\n EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.\n\n LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry\n Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my\n looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her", "able enough in its way if youre\n easygoing and dont expect too much from it. But it doesnt bear\n thinking about. The great thing is to get the young people tied\n up before they know what theyre letting themselves in for. Theres\n Miss Lesbia now. She waited till she started thinking about it;\n and then it was all over. If you once start arguing, Miss Edith\n and Mr Sykes, youll never get married. Go and get married first:\n youll have plenty of arguing afterwards, miss, believe me.\n\n H", "il. Let me explain. Your parents\n were not Anglicans. You were not, I think, Anglican yourself,\n until your second year at Oxford. They were Positivists. They\n went through the Positivist ceremony at Newton Hall in Fetter\n Lane after entering into the civil contract before the Registrar\n of the West Strand District. I ask you, as an Anglican Catholic,\n was that a marriage?\n\n SYKES [overwhelmed] Great Heavens, no! a thousand times, no. I", "[mildly] I shall not take an action, Cecil.\n\n EDITH [to Hotchkiss] Sorry; but you are old enough to know\n better. [To the others] And now since there is to be no wedding,\n we had better get back to our work. Mamma: will you tell Collins\n to cut up the wedding cake into thirty-three pieces for the club\n girls? My not being married is no reason why they should be\n disappointed. [She turns to go].\n\n HOTCHKISS [gallantly] If", "some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far\n from settled.\n\n THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important\n to tell us.\n\n SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.\n\n HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?\n\n SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?\n\n EDITH. Got married, of course.\n\n THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?\n\n SYKES [j", "BISHOP. No. Edith has no sense of humor. And Ive never seen a\n man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning.\n\n Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young\n gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn\n by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble\n problems of conduct.\n\n COLLINS [announcing] Mr Cecil Sykes. [He retires].\n\n HOTCHKISS. Look here,", "what time it\n was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather\n important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I\n stopped interrupting him, the sooner he'd be ready. Then he\n stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and\n buried himself in his beastly book. I couldnt get another word\n out of him; so I thought I'd better come here and warn you.\n\n REGINALD. This looks to me like theyve arranged it between them.\n\n THE", "to his feet, momentarily stupent and\n speechless.\n\n EDITH [rising] And I with Cecil.\n\n LEO [rising] And I with Rejjy and St John.\n\n THE GENERAL [aghast] An alliance! Do you mean a--a--a--\n\n REGINALD. She only means bigamy, as I understand her.\n\n THE GENERAL. Alfred: how long more are you going to stand there\n and countenance this lunacy? Is it a horrible dream or am I", "weakness of character; and\n instead of taking advantage of it I shall set you a better\n example. I want to know is this true. [She produces a pamphlet\n and takes it to the Bishop; then sits down between Hotchkiss and\n her mother].\n\n THE BISHOP [reading the title] Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO\n DO? BY A WOMAN WHO HAS DONE IT. May I ask, my dear, what she did?\n\n EDITH. She got married. When she had three children", "alarmed. I'm not going to be married.\n\n ALL THE REST. Not!\n\n SYKES [in consternation] Edith! Are you throwing me over?\n\n EDITH. How can I? you have been beforehand with me.\n\n SYKES. On my honor, no. All I said was that I didnt know the law\n when I asked you to be my wife.\n\n EDITH. And you wouldnt have asked me if you had. Is that it?\n\n SYKES. No. I should", " EDITH. Collins has known me from my childhood: I'm sure he will\n agree with me.\n\n COLLINS. Yes, miss: you may depend on me for that. Might I ask\n what the difficulty is?\n\n EDITH. Simply this. Do you expect me to get married in the\n existing state of the law?\n\n SYKES [rising and coming to Collin's left elbow] I put it to you\n as a sensible man: is it any worse for her than for me?\n\n REGINALD [" ], [ "\n THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do\n it? Why did Leo allow it?\n\n REGINALD. Youd better ask her.\n\n LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so\n horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let\n him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was\n the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it\n that way. I", "In fact,\n thats why I had to divorce him.\n\n THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt\n he?\n\n REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find\n them out for herself without your help.\n\n THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.\n\n LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than\n Reginald. I daresay he's not so", "hears his voice she\n turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in\n the doorway listening to the conversation.\n\n THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve\n brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you\n reconciled them, Boxer?\n\n THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a\n put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.\n\n REGINALD", "REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.\n I'm all right.\n\n LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a\n disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home\n with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow\n me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You\n must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt\n you or something.\n", "wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to\n marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at\n their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but\n I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt\n understand. One day she came to me and told me that the\n inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what\n the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told\n Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me\n and", " there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from\n the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.\n\n LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care\n for you, Rejjy.\n\n REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she\n had exhausted my conversation.\n\n THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the\n conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven\n knows", "GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of\n collusion?\n\n REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what\n are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his\n bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you\n take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe\n all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for\n a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.\n", ". She has more\n than common imagination and no more than common conception and\n penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words\n and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself\n clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and\n prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that\n understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,\n then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she\n told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed\n bringing out", "waiting for my instructions as to the\n term of the agreement.\n\n REGINALD [impatiently, leaving the hearth and going behind\n Soames] It's no good talking all over the shop like this. We\n shall be here all day. I propose that the agreement holds good\n until the parties are divorced.\n\n SOAMES. They cant be divorced. They will not be married.\n\n REGINALD. But if they cant be divorced, then this will be worse\n than marriage.\n\n MRS BRID", "man\n wont want her all the time.\n\n LESBIA. There may not be another man.\n\n LEO. Then why on earth should she leave him?\n\n LESBIA. Because she wants to.\n\n LEO. Oh, if people are going to be let do what they want to,\n then I call it simple immorality. [She goes indignantly to the\n oak chest, and perches herself on it close beside Hotchkiss].\n\n REGINALD [watching them sourly] You do it", "them off to every new visitor. In the\n end you have to be content with his common humanity; and when you\n come down to that, you find out about men what a great English\n poet of my acquaintance used to say about women: that they all\n taste alike. Marry whom you please: at the end of a month he'll\n be Reginald over again. It wasnt worth changing: indeed it wasnt.\n\n LEO. Then it's a mistake to get married.\n\n THE BISHOP. It is, my dear;", "\n that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her\n neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a\n fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about\n committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the\n hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know\n what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent\n man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to", "it\n in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and\n Alfred's apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the\n King's personal request--virtually a command--that stopped me\n from resigning my commission. I'd cut Reginald dead if I met him\n in the street.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. Besides, Leo's coming. Theyd meet. It's\n impossible, Lesbia.\n\n LESBIA. Oh, I forgot that. That settles", ". If she were a middle-aged man she would be the\n terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven\n everything, proving that \"Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner\"\n is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving\n everything is to understand nothing.\n\n She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on\n Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs\n Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Les", "chkiss] Youve always talked a precious lot about\n behaving like a gentleman. Well, if you think youve behaved like\n a gentleman to Leo, youre mistaken. And I shall have to take her\n part, remember that.\n\n HOTCHKISS. I understand. Your doors are closed to me.\n\n REGINALD [quickly] Oh no. Dont be hasty. I think I should like\n you to drop in after a while, you know. She gets so cross and\n upset when theres nobody to liven up", "\n REGINALD [breaking loose from her and stumping off past Hotchkiss\n towards the hearth] No, I'm dashed if I'll be adopted by St John.\n You can adopt him if you like.\n\n HOTCHKISS [rising] I suggest that that would really be the better\n plan, Leo. Ive a confession to make to you. I'm not the man you\n took me for. Your objection to Rejjy was that he had low tastes.\n\n REGINALD [turning", "could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering\n silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now?\n What can I do now?\n\n MRS GEORGE. Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other\n men's wives is growing on you; and that I'm your latest.\n\n HOTCHKISS. What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over\n for me!\n\n MRS GEORGE [rising] You wont then? Very well", "Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I\n adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock\n of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].\n\n REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over\n like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting\n Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away\n towards the study door].\n\n LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Re", "never saw that hateful creature until that day in\n Court. If he had only shewn her to me before, I should never have\n allowed it.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH. You did all this for Leo's sake, Rejjy?\n\n REGINALD [with an unbearable sense of injury] I shouldnt mind a\n bit if it were for Leo's sake. But to have to do it to make room\n for that mushroom-faced serpent--!\n\n THE GENERAL [jumping up] What", "the house before he brought it up\n to the present day. But enough to know the part played in it by\n Miss Grantham.\n\n MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Leo] Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth.\n\n REGINALD. The late Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth.\n\n LEO. Hold your tongue, Rejjy. At least have the decency to wait\n until the decree is made absolute.\n\n MRS GEORGE [to Leo] Well, youve more time to get" ] ]

[ "Which year is Edith supposed to get married in?", "Who is giving Edith away at her wedding?", "Who does General Boxer Bridgenorth propose to at the wedding?", "Why did Reginald's wife divorce him?", "Who does Leo now plan to marry?", "Who is Edith marrying?", "What did Edith and Cecil learn from reading the pamplets?", "Who does Hotchkiss fall in love with?", "What is the Bishop in the process of writing about?", "Why does Lesbia keep turning down General Boxer Bridgenorth's proposals?", "Why is the General shocked that his brother Reginald is attending the wedding?", "Why does the General believe that his brother will be uncomfortable at the wedding?", "Why did Reginald's wife want a divorce?", "What did everyone believe caused the divorce between Reginald and Leo?", "Who did Leo wish to marry?", "What delays Cecil Sykes and his wife from getting married?", "Why did Cecil and Edith finally agree to get married?", "What does Leo want when she finds that John Hotchkiss is not interested in her?", "Why did Reginald's wife divorce him?", "Why did Reginald and Leo make up the stories about the assault and adultery?", "Why were Edith and Cecil delayed from getting to the church for their wedding?", "What is the main worry that Cecil has about marrying Edith?", "What is Edith's main concern about marrying Cecil?", "What is the Roman concept of marriage that the bishop suggests Edith and Cecil should adopt? ", "What type of publication is the bishop working on?", "Why does the bishop's chaplain feel he is capable of writing up a marriage contract?", "Which type of marriage do Cecil and Edith finally opt for?", "Why does Leo want her divorce from Reginald to be revoked? " ]

[ [ "1908", "The year 1908." ], [ "General Boxer Bridgenorth", "Her Uncle General Boxer Bridgenorth." ], [ "Lesbia Grantham", "Lesbia Grantham" ], [ "For assulting her and cheating on her", "he assaulted her and cheated on her with a prostitute." ], [ "John Hotchkiss", "John Hotchkiss" ], [ "Cecil Sykes", "Cecil Sykes" ], [ "The dangers of marriage", "dangers of marriage" ], [ "Mrs. George Collins", "Mrs George Collins" ], [ "The history of marriage", "the history of marriage" ], [ "Because he smokes and doesn't take care of himself.", "she doens't want a husband who smokes or is untidy" ], [ "Because he was recently divorced by his wife.", "he is disreputable and is bringing his ex-wife to the wedding" ], [ "His ex-wife will also be attending the wedding.", "HIs ex-wife will also be attending." ], [ "She wanted to marry another man.", "he assaulted her and cheated with a prostitute" ], [ "That Reginald beat Leo and had sex with prostitutes.", "Assault and prostitution charges against the husband" ], [ "John Hotchkiss.", "John Hotchkiss" ], [ "They are both reading pamphlets about marriage.", "They are both worried by what they have read in a pamphlet on marriage" ], [ "They both agreed on arrangemtns to protect themselves in case something went wrong with marriage.", "They finally agreed to get married because writing up a contract was proving to be too difficult, so they came to an understanding." ], [ "She wanted her divorce to Reginald to be considered voided.", "To revoke her divorce." ], [ "For assaulting her and committing adultery.", "he assaulted her and was adulterous" ], [ "So that they could divorce without Leo taking any blame for the break up of the marriage.", "So they could divorce without Leo being blamed." ], [ "They were both reading pamphlets on marriage.", "both were reading pamphlets on marriage" ], [ "That he will be liable for her debts. ", "he will become a criminal lunatic she can not divorce" ], [ "That she will be unable to divorce him if he becomes a criminal.", "That if he becomes a criminal lunatic she will be unable to divorce him." ], [ "Marriage by contract.", "The Roman concept of marriage by contract." ], [ "A book on the history of marriage.", "The History of Marriage" ], [ "Because he is a lawyer.", "He is a lawyer" ], [ "A standard marriage.", "a standard marriage" ], [ "Because the man she wanted to be with was in love with another woman. ", "Leo wont have nay more debt" ] ]

[ [ "s well-built secretary -- KIM BREWSTER -- hands\n him his messages. She's holding a bottle of Dom\n Perignon.\n\n KIMBERLY\n The C.I.A. sent this over. What\n should I do with it?\n\n ARCHER\n Send it back and tell them to stop\n wasting the taxpayers' money.\n Anything else, Miss Brewster?\n\n KIMBERLY\n No, sir.\n\n He enters his office. Kimber", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "ly. He looks at his watch.\n\n ARCHER\n I'm in a hurry, Dietrich. So\n you've only got ten seconds to go\n through your usual litany of lies,\n empty threats, and moronic\n denials. Then I'm coming over\n there --\n\n DIETRICH\n If you're in such a fucking hurry\n -- why are you wasting your time\n with me? I'm just an art dealer.\n\n ARCHER\n ", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "\n\n Archer sees guards charging the room. He tries closing\n the door -- but the guards arrive. Dubov lumbers over\n and puts his massive weight into it -- and slams the door\n shut.\n\n O.S., guards POUND at the now-locked door.\n\n Archer quickly frisks Walton -- coming up with a\n cigarette lighter. he pockets it.\n\n Scanning around -- Archer leaps onto a mounted, hinged\n lamp. it swings against the wall. Archer uses it", "finally out of our lives.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve...\n\n He starts to say the words. He wants, needs to share the\n truth with her. But he can't. Instead --\n\n ARCHER\n ... If I had to do something to\n find some closure... I should do\n it, shouldn't I?... No matter how\n crazy?\n\n EVE\n Oh, God -- you're going on\n assignment again...\n\n ARCHER\n One last time", "memorial service.\n\n ARCHER\n Victor... Tito... they both died\n thinking I killed them... And in a\n way... I did.\n\n EVE\n Jon -- you can't think about that\n now.\n\n Archer takes a breath -- and pulls himself together.\n\n ARCHER\n -- What happens after the memorial?\n\n EVE\n He's taking Jamie and me away.\n\n ARCHER\n And neither of you will be coming\n back. Where'", " ARCHER\n Let him go, but I want him\n watched... Who's next?\n\n TITO\n Just Dietrich's sister...\n\n In another booth, a careworn but striking woman sits with\n a little boy on her lap. She gently helps him Crayola a\n book. This is SASHA HASSLER (30) and her son ADAM (5).\n\n\n INT. INTERROGATION BOOTH - DAY\n\n Archer hovers over Sasha --", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "picks up phone)\n Archer. Sure I'll hold...\n\n Waiting, he picks up a handbook: <u>You and the FBI: A</u>\n <u>Primer for New Employees</u>. Then...\n\n CASTOR\n Mr. President, what an honor...\n\n Castor pumps a \"whacking off\" gesture with his hand.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME - DAY\n\n Castor, carrying grocery bags, comes into the back", " Archer catches it with his right\n hand. But to Archer's surprise, Tito frowns.\n\n TITO\n Nice catch. But you used the\n wrong hand.\n\n He takes the pistol away -- and slaps it in Archer's left\n hand. Then Tito shoves him -- challengingly.\n\n TITO\n Shoot me.\n (as Archer\n doesn't move)\n Shoot me!\n\n Tito pulls the gun against his", "\n in-progress mural and stunning glass-bricked floor.\n\n ALDO\n Helluva place, Dietrich. So\n what's the big surprise?\n\n Archer emerges. The men are stunned -- the women beam.\n\n FITCH\n Are you crazy? You're going to\n bring the Feds down on all of us!\n\n ARCHER\n Archer doesn't want you, he wants\n me! But I'm going to get him\n first -- with", "\n DIETRICH\n We all have a reason to hate Jon\n Archer. We all want to see him\n dead --\n\n ARCHER\n And nobody's untouchable if <u>we</u> say\n he's not.\n\n The thugs exchange a glance... reading each other...\n considering.\n\n DIETRICH\n It's all worked out. Caz has\n Archer's routine down cold.\n\n ARCHER\n We start with", "your help.\n\n ALDO\n Archer's a damn celebrity now --\n he's untouchable -- and you're\n radioactive.\n\n He turns to leave. Archer wheels him around and smashes\n him into the wall. Aldo goes for his gun, but Archer's\n too quick -- he strips him of it.\n\n The four bodyguards draw their weapons -- and surround\n Archer.\n\n ARCHER\n You wanna face-off with <u>Castor</", ". He\n tries to avoid it, but Livia kisses him -- hot, moist.\n\n LIVIA\n Remember the Charger's game, Caz?\n The owners box? We did it four\n times.\n\n ARCHER\n Sure I remember... Once a quarter,\n right?\n\n Archer's eyes fall on the series of abstract paintings.\n\n The twisted renderings make his head spin worse... as he\n starts to hallucinate... surrounded by enemies -- he\n struggles to regain", " As Castor turns and staggers away -- he runs smack into a\n confused security agent.\n\n CASTOR\n Give me your weapon -- now!\n\n The agent hands over his UZI -- and Castor PLUGS him.\n\n\n BOATYARD\n\n Archer and Eve make sure Jamie's okay.\n\n JAMIE\n (to Archer)\n Who <u>are</u> you? Will someone please\n tell me what's going on?\n\n Archer r", " CASTOR\n Miller and Brodie --\n\n FLASH ON Brodie and Miller -- dead in a mangled car\n wreck.\n\n CASTOR\n I even paid a visit to your buddy\n Tito.\n\n ARCHER\n He doesn't know anything about\n this!\n\n CASTOR\n Come on, Jon. I think I know you\n better than that. I only wish you\n could have been there to see the\n look on his face --\n\n FLASH ON T", "\n otherwise...\n\n The steel panels shut - silencing Archer's pleading\n voice.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CAR - MOVING - DAY\n\n Sipping a beer, Castor cruises past the suburban bliss:\n men on hammocks; women chatting; kids playing tag.\n\n CASTOR\n (sickened)\n Jesus, what a life.\n\n Castor tries to catch a street address and rolls past...\n\n\n ARCHER'S HOUSE", "You're a dealer, all right:\n technical secrets, munitions...\n <u>explosives</u>.\n\n DIETRICH\n You've never proven any of that.\n And when my bitchy, never-been-\n laid femi-nazi lawyer gets here,\n she's going to...\n\n ARCHER\n Time's up.\n\n Archer topples the wooden table and tears a leg from the\n top. Brandishing it -- he stalks the startled th" ], [ "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "SILENCED TRANK-DART explodes from the\n barrel.\n\n\n FOLLOW DART\n\n Screaming toward Castor's neck -- but it goes just wide.\n It sinks harmlessly into the grass -- unnoticed during\n the 21-GUN SALUTE.\n\n\n ON KNOLL\n\n THUMP! Archer is cracked across the head. He slumps\n down, unconscious, as a silenced gun barrel gently enters\n his ear. As the saluting G", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "says nothing.\n\n He simply takes Jamie's hand, intertwining his fingers in\n hers.\n\n The honor guard steps forward, shouldering their rifles,\n commencing their 21-GUN SALUTE as --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n steadies himself, re-aims the sniper rifle.\n\n He hears MOTION behind him. Someone's coming and fast...\n but this is his only chance. Off-balance, Archer\n squeezes --\n\n THFFFT! The", "\n\n checks her watch... barely lifting her eyes away...\n\n Castor absently pats her knee. She's forced to return\n focus to the service.\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n chambers the dart, twists a knob on the range-finder, and\n carefully peers over the crucifix.\n\n\n THROUGH SCOPE\n\n Archer TRACKS THROUGH the mourners -- and FINDS Castor.\n As the cross-hairs neatly cube his head...\n", "near\n tears -- because she knows this may be the last time.\n\n SASHA\n Thank you, Caz... thank you...\n\n ARCHER\n Get the boy out of here...\n\n Livia and the remaining bodyguard hustle Archer out --\n\n\n INT. ROTUNDA - NIGHT\n\n MAC-10 poised, Livia and the bodyguard rush Archer\n through the deserted rotunda -- BOOM! BOOM! His escorts\n drop.\n\n Castor r", "\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n We've come full circle from Matthew's death: with Archer\n the sniper and Castor the target.\n\n The Priest's emotional reciting of the rites climaxes.\n\n PRIEST\n Requiem aeternam dona eis,\n Domine... Amen.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - TRIGGER\n\n Archer's finger wraps around -- he starts to squeeze...\n\n\n POV THROUGH S", "his pistol but Eve kicks him hard in the\n balls. He doubles over.\n\n Archer snatches away the MACHINE PISTOL. Staggered --\n Lunt is quickly riddled by Dietrich.\n\n Castor and Lars BLAZE at the now-scattering intruders --\n driving them back amid the shot's tools and drums.\n\n ARCHER\n Find Jamie!\n\n Eve crawls through the FUSILLADE toward the exit.\n\n\n EXT. MEMOR", "animal. Even I can't keep up with\n her.\n\n They're so close Castor's whispering right in Archer's\n ear.\n\n CASTOR\n Tonight I'm going to make her come\n like Niagara Falls -- to celebrate\n your death.\n\n Castor licks Archer's ear salaciously. Enraged, Archer\n tears the pistol from his grip and turns it on Castor.\n\n He's got Castor dead to rights -- suddenly BULLE", "AT careens off a piling -- and ROARS\n straight for the shipyard. COLLIDING with a shoreline\n obstruction --\n\n The BOAT FLIPS, stern over bow...\n\n Archer and Castor go flying... onto the beach.\n\n\n EXT. BEACH - DAY\n\n Archer and Castor lie dazed... then stir. Castor sees\n the pistol lying half-buried... he reaches for it.\n But --\n\n Archer gets it first. He aims it at Castor", "\n\n During the GUN BATTLE -- we INTERCUT the deaths of\n Dietrich, Lars and Sasha WITH:\n\n\n EXT. SEA - LAZARRO'S ASHES\n\n being scattered at sea.\n\n Castor and Lars RIDDLE Sasha. She drops. Archer FIRES\n back -- killing Lars and driving Castor back.\n\n Archer leans beside the mortally-wounded Sasha.\n\n SASHA\n ... Help Adam... don't let him", "trick, Jamie. I'm your\n father.\n\n Jamie swings the gun back and forth -- baffled.\n\n CASTOR\n Shoot him, Jamie.\n\n ARCHER\n Jamie...\n\n CASTOR\n Shoot him!\n\n Jamie FIRES. Archer reels -- as a slug grazes his\n shoulder. Castor snatches the PISTOL from Jamie's hand.\n\n CASTOR\n You dunce. No kid of mine would\n", "ola.\n\n POLLUX\n You tricked me into telling you\n things I never told anyone...\n\n Archer hears movement above him as Pollux reaches the\n crown.\n\n POLLUX\n Now take it to your grave.\n\n Archer FIRES his PISTOL -- into the glass cupola -- and\n SHATTERS the GLASS beneath Pollux's feet. The cupola\n disintegrates beneath his weight. He plunges down\n into --\n\n\n ROTUN", "GUNSHOT...\n\n Then Adam smiles -- perhaps the way Matthew once smiled.\n It pulls something up from inside Archer -- something \n strong. He regains control, dumping the child into \n Sasha's arms.\n\n ARCHER\n He's not my son.\n\n SASHA\n Yes, he is -- !\n\n Then something alerts Archer -- maybe the fleeting \n shadows that blot out the window-light for the barest \n second.\n\n ARCH", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", ".\n Your husband's blood type is O\n negative. Castor's is A.B.\n\n Archer glances at the balcony -- as FOOTSTEPS CLOMP up \n the stairs. Eve is about to answer -- or scream. But \n then...\n\n ARCHER\n Remember the parachute dream? I'm\n falling, Eve... I'm falling...\n\n The blood drains from her face as... Archer slips over \n the balcony and disappears.", "BOOM! Castor FIRES -- blowing apart an under-repair\n hull. He advances toward the boat, gun ready, when\n Archer appears behind him and follows -- one step, two\n steps -- until --\n\n Castor stops -- then whirls as Archer leaps.\n\n The men collapse hard. Castor's pistol clatters across\n the yard toward the docked boat.\n\n Archer and Castor brutally strangle each other -- digging\n their fingers deep into their throats. They throttle", "?\n (to Eve)\n Sorry, baby. Castor Troy is about\n to murder you and our daughter...\n but I promise you won't die\n unavenged.\n\n ARCHER\n This is between you and me. Leave\n them out of this.\n\n CASTOR\n It <u>was</u> between you and me. Even\n your little boy -- that wasn't\n supposed to happen. But you\n couldn't let it go.\n\n ", "DA\n\n Castor watches in horror as Pollux pancakes onto the\n floor at his feet.\n\n CASTOR\n Pollux...\n\n Pollux is almost gone. Castor looks up and sees --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Peering down into the rotunda.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n OPENS FIRE --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Ducks the bullets as he disappears.\n\n Castor desperately holds Pollux -- to no avail. Pollux\n slips", "Castor tries to strangle him -- Archer headbutts\n Castor, who reels -- snagging his leg around the chain.\n Castor falls back -- plunging toward the water.\n\n Archer tries to hold Castor up... as the boat speeds\n toward --\n\n\n PIER\n\n Archer yanks Castor back onto the deck as the BOAT\n BOUNCES OFF the pier pilings. But as they slug it out...\n\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n\n WHAM! The BO" ], [ "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "ly. He looks at his watch.\n\n ARCHER\n I'm in a hurry, Dietrich. So\n you've only got ten seconds to go\n through your usual litany of lies,\n empty threats, and moronic\n denials. Then I'm coming over\n there --\n\n DIETRICH\n If you're in such a fucking hurry\n -- why are you wasting your time\n with me? I'm just an art dealer.\n\n ARCHER\n ", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "\n You're already busted, Dietrich.\n It's just a matter of time before\n they pick you up.\n\n Dietrich snakes the car past the crime scene and speeds\n off.\n\n DIETRICH\n Man, when you came to me about\n that bomb -- I <u>knew</u> I should have\n blown you off... but that's my\n fucking curse -- I just can't say\n no to a friend.\n\n ARCHER\n You can't say", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "\n in-progress mural and stunning glass-bricked floor.\n\n ALDO\n Helluva place, Dietrich. So\n what's the big surprise?\n\n Archer emerges. The men are stunned -- the women beam.\n\n FITCH\n Are you crazy? You're going to\n bring the Feds down on all of us!\n\n ARCHER\n Archer doesn't want you, he wants\n me! But I'm going to get him\n first -- with", " Archer catches it with his right\n hand. But to Archer's surprise, Tito frowns.\n\n TITO\n Nice catch. But you used the\n wrong hand.\n\n He takes the pistol away -- and slaps it in Archer's left\n hand. Then Tito shoves him -- challengingly.\n\n TITO\n Shoot me.\n (as Archer\n doesn't move)\n Shoot me!\n\n Tito pulls the gun against his", "s well-built secretary -- KIM BREWSTER -- hands\n him his messages. She's holding a bottle of Dom\n Perignon.\n\n KIMBERLY\n The C.I.A. sent this over. What\n should I do with it?\n\n ARCHER\n Send it back and tell them to stop\n wasting the taxpayers' money.\n Anything else, Miss Brewster?\n\n KIMBERLY\n No, sir.\n\n He enters his office. Kimber", "his cigarette.\n He studies Archer as he takes a drag -- and nearly gags.\n\n POLLUX\n ... I'm worried about you.\n\n ARCHER\n Why?\n\n POLLUX\n Your jumpshot has no arc. You\n used to swagger... now you swish.\n You're gumming that butt like a\n Catholic school girl.\n (notices)\n And why do you keep picking at\n your finger?\n\n Pollux has caught Ar", "know...\n (nuzzles him)\n Maybe because you've never needed\n my help.\n\n ARCHER\n Come on, you made that up, didn't\n you?\n\n EVE\n ... Maybe I did...\n (teasing)\n ... maybe I didn't...\n\n They kiss affectionately. Passion building, Eve runs her \n hands over his body -- until her fingers touch a round\n scar on his chest. Archer freezes -- mid-caress.\n\n", "y lonely now that Pollux\n is gone.\n\n ARCHER\n Pollux is -- what?\n\n WALTON\n Archer cut him a deal for turning\n state's evidence. He's been\n released...\n\n ARCHER\n Walton, you have to listen to me\n -- <u>right now</u>!\n\n WALTON\n Or what? You'll have me fired?\n (pushes a button)\n You're confined until I say", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "\n\n checks her watch... barely lifting her eyes away...\n\n Castor absently pats her knee. She's forced to return\n focus to the service.\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n chambers the dart, twists a knob on the range-finder, and\n carefully peers over the crucifix.\n\n\n THROUGH SCOPE\n\n Archer TRACKS THROUGH the mourners -- and FINDS Castor.\n As the cross-hairs neatly cube his head...\n", "\n\n Archer sees guards charging the room. He tries closing\n the door -- but the guards arrive. Dubov lumbers over\n and puts his massive weight into it -- and slams the door\n shut.\n\n O.S., guards POUND at the now-locked door.\n\n Archer quickly frisks Walton -- coming up with a\n cigarette lighter. he pockets it.\n\n Scanning around -- Archer leaps onto a mounted, hinged\n lamp. it swings against the wall. Archer uses it", "it's all about\n you. Don't even ask me what\n happened.\n\n Archer looks to Eve for help. Eve shakes her head --\n nope.\n\n ARCHER\n Okay. What happened?\n\n JAMIE\n Like you'd ever fucking believe\n <u>me</u>!\n\n She bolts. In anticipation, Eve calmly opens the door as\n Jamie rushes out, then closes it behind her.\n\n EVE\n Well,", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his", "listening. He sees\n Cop #2 sitting at the dining room table, cleaning his\n pistol. He slips upstairs -- toward the sound of\n RUNNING WATER.\n\n\n MASTER BEDROOM -- CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n Archer walks in and steps toward the bathroom -- passing \n the bed. He stops. On top of the rumpled covers: Eve's\n nightgown and a pair of Castor's black briefs.\n\n Overwhelmed, he sits down -- not noticing", "\n Something bobs up in the surf. Archer is thrashed ashore\n by the breakers... he crawls gasping onto the sand. He\n takes a few breaths -- then staggers up onto the beach.\n\n\n EXT. TITO'S STREET - NIGHT\n\n Archer's heart sinks as he sees the yellow police cordon\n taped across Tito's front door. Some teenage cholos\n notice him -- so Archer keeps right on going.\n\n\n INT.", "ola.\n\n POLLUX\n You tricked me into telling you\n things I never told anyone...\n\n Archer hears movement above him as Pollux reaches the\n crown.\n\n POLLUX\n Now take it to your grave.\n\n Archer FIRES his PISTOL -- into the glass cupola -- and\n SHATTERS the GLASS beneath Pollux's feet. The cupola\n disintegrates beneath his weight. He plunges down\n into --\n\n\n ROTUN", "\n each other so hard, Archer's larynx vocal chip is\n dislodged.\n\n His VOICE CHANGES, ECHOING with garbled. STATIC.\n\n ARCHER\n Give up, Castor. People are going\n to find out.\n\n CASTOR\n Not if I kill you first.\n\n They scramble for the gun -- but a hand reaches out from\n the docked boat and picks it up. Archer and Castor stop\n dead in their" ], [ "INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Unconscious, Archer is wheeled into the surgical bay, \n Castor beside him. Hoag turns to the video technician.\n\n HOAG\n Make sure you get everything --\n I'll need to study the tape before\n the reverse surgery.\n\n Hoag lowers an aerated Plexiglas mask over Archer's face.\n Interwoven with integrated laser circuitry -- this Derma-\n Induction-Device (D.I.D.) att", "aches via suction.\n\n Hoag sights through the optical memory, squeezes the\n trigger. A cobalt beam cuts around the face -- cleanly\n slicing it. Then Hoag lifts Archer's face -- off of his\n skull.\n\n Brodie and Miller watch from above. Tito stumbles into\n the nearby bathroom to throw up.\n\n Hoag inspects Archer's face, then turns to his nurse.\n\n HOAG\n Vault it.\n\n Hoag turns to perform", "\n\n Archer, Hoag, Brodie and Miller watch the operation --\n video-enhanced by the two huge screens on the far walls.\n\n HOAG\n With our new generation of anti-\n inflammatories, healing is\n accelerated from weeks to days.\n By his next paycheck, he won't\n even remember which ear he lost.\n (a beat)\n Your situation, however, would be\n a little less permanent...\n\n BRODIE\n -- and a lot more classified.\n", "very carefully...\n\n\n EXT. HOAG INSTITUTE - NIGHT (LATER)\n\n A RANGE ROVER SCREECHES up. At gunpoint, Lars and Lunt \n manhandle Hoag into the lab.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Lars and Lunt hustle Hoag in. The lab is on. The \n screens run -- scrolling through the video log of \n Archer's surgery.\n\n Hoag sees his terrified assist", "cher toward a steel door.\n\n\n INT. \"CLINIC\" - NIGHT\n\n Archer is dumped on the floor. He sees he's lying in a\n puddle of something. He looks up -- and recoils.\n\n ARCHER'S POV - DUBOV\n\n is strapped to a vertical gurney -- post-procedure. His \n limbs are stiff, his eyes blank as a mako shark's. But \n his feet are bare -- bootless.\n", ". Shocked, he touches his left ear, making sure it's\n still there.\n\n Then Tito looks at Archer -- and sees the determination.\n\n\n EXT. HOAG'S FACILITY - NIGHT\n\n Clear and calm. God's night. Someone's God anyway.\n\n\n INT. I.C.U. ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Hoag leads Archer to a full-length mirror.\n\n HOAG\n Let's see if I missed anything\n before I get my", "athed in gauze. The bandages start to fall \n away.\n\n Tito, Miller and Brodie wait as Hoag removes the gauze.\n The patient looks into a mirror.\n\n Jon Archer has become Castor Troy.\n\n he touches his new face. Archer stares... the cold\n reality chilling his blood.\n\n Archer buckles -- unprepared emotionally for what he's\n done to himself. For a moment, he seems to teeter on\n madness.\n\n T", "control of his battered psyche.\n\n LIVIA\n Caz? Are you okay?\n\n He pulls away and stumbles down the stairs -- toward the\n kitchen.\n\n DIETRICH\n When even Castor Troy can't handle\n a tab of Quantrex...\n (raises his glass)\n That, dear friends, is the first\n sorry whiff of old age.\n\n\n INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n Archer has his mouth under the tap --", "Do it.\n\n\n TRANSFORMATION MONTAGE\n\n (INTERCUT huge video screen enlargements of Archer and\n Castor's body parts as necessary):\n\n Globules of adipose tissue are siphoned off Archer's \n obliques. At the same time...\n\n Hoag recreates the \"Great Sphinx\" tattoo on Archer's\n thigh. We PUSH IN ON his leg, then PULL BACK to\n reveal...\n\n Archer and Tito", "\n\n Archer turns as DR. MALCOLM HOAG (50s) enters the room.\n\n HOAG\n I think I'd better answer that\n question.\n (offers hand)\n Malcolm Hoag. I run the\n Physiological Camouflage Unit for\n Special Ops.\n\n ARCHER\n I know who you are.\n\n MILLER\n But you don't know what he can do.\n Physical augmentation; enhancement\n surgery...\n\n", "\n MED-TECH\n Where's the mop, he puked all over\n the place.\n\n An assistant unstraps Dubov and drops him on a gurney.\n\n MED-TECH\n (mopping up)\n -- next time, bring them in <u>before</u>\n dinner...\n\n Archer cases the place: Above is a catwalk... leading\n out.\n\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Walton muscles Archer into the gurn", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "ars... micro-plugs for\n the body hair... the teeth will be\n bonded to match Castor's...\n\n Hoag eyes Castor's inert, tight body -- then turns to\n Archer -- prodding his love handles like a livestock\n inspector.\n\n HOAG\n How about an abdominoplasty?\n\n ARCHER\n Abdomino -- what?\n\n HOAG\n A tummy tuck. On the house.\n\n ARCHER\n ", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "You are now an Erewhon inmate -- a\n citizen of nowhere. Human rights\n zealots, the Geneva convention and\n the P.C. police have no authority\n here. You have no right...\n (slaps on latex gloves)\n When I say your ass belongs to me\n -- I mean it. Bend over.\n\n Archer's face reflects the degradation as he bends over\n and exposes all to the cavity-searching Guard.\n\n Satisfied, Walton", "ITO\n Jon -- are you all right?\n\n Archer can't respond... he's somewhere the others can't\n comprehend. Finally he emerges... shaken, but in\n control.\n\n TITO enters. Instinctively, he grabs for his holster.\n\n ARCHER\n Okay... I'm okay.\n (realizes)\n But my voice... I still sound like\n me.\n\n HOAG\n I implanted a micro-chip onto your\n l", "'s inert\n body is beside him.\n\n EVE\n Hang on, Jon... they're bringing\n in their top surgical team from\n D.C...\n\n ARCHER\n (re: Castor)\n How is he?\n\n EVE\n No life signs at all. He's a\n turnip.\n\n ARCHER\n That's what they always say...\n\n He passes out as the FBI medics load him onto the med-\n evac", "hands really dirty.\n\n Archer removes the robe. He's amazed to see:\n\n His own head on Castor's body: a flat stomach, hairy\n chest, tattoos, thinning hair, etc. Hoag touches\n Archer's scar.\n\n HOAG\n You realize this has to be\n removed.\n (as Archer\n slowly nods)\n Then here we go, Commander.\n <u>Through the Looking Glass</u>...\n\n\n " ], [ "aches via suction.\n\n Hoag sights through the optical memory, squeezes the\n trigger. A cobalt beam cuts around the face -- cleanly\n slicing it. Then Hoag lifts Archer's face -- off of his\n skull.\n\n Brodie and Miller watch from above. Tito stumbles into\n the nearby bathroom to throw up.\n\n Hoag inspects Archer's face, then turns to his nurse.\n\n HOAG\n Vault it.\n\n Hoag turns to perform", "athed in gauze. The bandages start to fall \n away.\n\n Tito, Miller and Brodie wait as Hoag removes the gauze.\n The patient looks into a mirror.\n\n Jon Archer has become Castor Troy.\n\n he touches his new face. Archer stares... the cold\n reality chilling his blood.\n\n Archer buckles -- unprepared emotionally for what he's\n done to himself. For a moment, he seems to teeter on\n madness.\n\n T", " BRODIE\n ... He can disguise a compromised\n agent or alter the likeness --\n even the voice -- of a government\n witness.\n\n HOAG\n Let me show you how it's done.\n (leading him out)\n I think you'll recognize our\n patient...\n\n\n INT. HOAG'S SURGICAL BAY - DAY\n\n Loomis lies still as a surgeon carefully scrapes away\n charred flesh around his burned ear. The doctor turns to", "Otherwise, nature is cooperating\n nicely. The height difference is\n negligible -- within 1/2 an inch.\n Eye color -- almost a perfect\n match. Penis size, flaccid,\n essentially the same --\n Substantial.\n\n From the observation booth above -- Miller (flanked by\n Tito and Brodie) raises his eyebrow.\n\n On the video screens, the images morph to signify the\n physical augmentations.\n\n HOAG\n Hairline will be adjusted with\n laser-she", "INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Unconscious, Archer is wheeled into the surgical bay, \n Castor beside him. Hoag turns to the video technician.\n\n HOAG\n Make sure you get everything --\n I'll need to study the tape before\n the reverse surgery.\n\n Hoag lowers an aerated Plexiglas mask over Archer's face.\n Interwoven with integrated laser circuitry -- this Derma-\n Induction-Device (D.I.D.) att", ".B.I. surgeon gave me Castor's\n face. He handled the transplant,\n the vocal implant, everything.\n But somehow Castor came out of his\n coma -- and killed everyone who\n knew about the mission. But not\n before he was transformed into me.\n\n The back DOOR CLICKS open. A voice booms out.\n\n COP (O.S.)\n Dr. Archer, are you okay?\n\n ARCHER\n If you need hard evidence, get it", " exactly like Castor's. Then we\n fit his face right on top --\n\n MILLER\n -- and you become him.\n\n ARCHER\n You're talking about removing the\n guy's face?\n\n BRODIE\n Borrowing, Jon. The procedure's\n completely reversible.\n\n MILLER\n One way or the other -- the\n mission ends on the eighteenth.\n\n Archer turns the shell over and over and over in his\n hands", "very carefully...\n\n\n EXT. HOAG INSTITUTE - NIGHT (LATER)\n\n A RANGE ROVER SCREECHES up. At gunpoint, Lars and Lunt \n manhandle Hoag into the lab.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Lars and Lunt hustle Hoag in. The lab is on. The \n screens run -- scrolling through the video log of \n Archer's surgery.\n\n Hoag sees his terrified assist", "? Maybe the trauma of having\n my face cut off pulled me out. Or\n maybe God really is on <u>my</u> side\n after all.\n (starts pacing)\n By the way, I know you don't get\n the papers in here.\n\n Continuing to circle, he displays the current <u>LA Times</u>:\n\n \"INFERNO AT HOAG INSTITUTE -- Malcolm Hoag Dead\"\n\n CASTOR\n Terrible tragedy.\n Hoag was such", "\n\n Archer, Hoag, Brodie and Miller watch the operation --\n video-enhanced by the two huge screens on the far walls.\n\n HOAG\n With our new generation of anti-\n inflammatories, healing is\n accelerated from weeks to days.\n By his next paycheck, he won't\n even remember which ear he lost.\n (a beat)\n Your situation, however, would be\n a little less permanent...\n\n BRODIE\n -- and a lot more classified.\n", "Castor's head is swathed in gauze. But his eyes pop \n open.\n\n Reflexively, Castor wrenches from the bed -- tearing out \n the tubes and wires that tether him to life support. He \n goes down -- in agony -- groaning.\n\n He struggles to his feet -- staggering through the lab --\n until he catches the reflection of his bandaged face in\n the window. He quickly unwraps the gauze.\n\n The discarded bandages fall at", "\n\n Archer turns as DR. MALCOLM HOAG (50s) enters the room.\n\n HOAG\n I think I'd better answer that\n question.\n (offers hand)\n Malcolm Hoag. I run the\n Physiological Camouflage Unit for\n Special Ops.\n\n ARCHER\n I know who you are.\n\n MILLER\n But you don't know what he can do.\n Physical augmentation; enhancement\n surgery...\n\n", "\n Hoag holds up a face-sized organic shell made up of\n yellow cartilage pieces and tendons, etc. Archer pulls\n it over his face -- like a gauze mask. A \"tendon\" falls\n off.\n\n ARCHER\n This'll fool Pollux.\n\n HOAG\n <u>That</u> is a state-of-the-art morpho-\n genetic template. The inside can\n be built to match the exact shape\n of your skull; the outside --\n", "\n a --\n\n\n STEREO-LITHOGRAPHIC MACHINE\n\n Laser-beams attack an organic soup with incredible\n precision. The light forces a chemical reaction -- and \n out of the soup -- an ear begins to form. It rises from \n the liquid, now fully-formed. The surgeon takes the ear \n and fits it in place on Loomis's head. He starts \n suturing.\n\n\n OBSERVATION BOOTH - ABOVE", "the same procedure on Castor.\n\n Castor's consistent EEG reading suddenly spikes\n radically -- for a moment, it almost seems to stabilize.\n Hoag glances over -- too late -- the spikes have \n disappeared.\n\n But the CAMERA CLOSES IN ON Castor's ear -- and we sense\n that, somehow, his auditory nerves might be functioning.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n\n INT. RECOVERY ROOM - DAY\n\n A head sw", "ry night. Van Gogh's night. The night \n he cut off his ear, anyway.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Castor's body lies inert. His life-support MACHINES\n BLIPPING away. Until the EEG spikes. Once -- twice -- \n three times. Brain wave activity increases -- and \n stabilizes.\n\n Castor's fingers twitch. Then his fist clenches -- hard. \n ", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", "a genius -- but\n selfish with his artistry. I\n actually had to torture his\n assistants to convince him to\n perform the same surgery on me.\n\n ARCHER\n You killed them?\n\n CASTOR\n Of course I killed them, you <u>dumb</u>\n <u>fuck</u>. Hoag, his staff...\n\n FLASH ON Hoag's body -- on the floor of the burning lab.\n Two more burned bodies adjoin Hoag's.\n\n ", ".\n\n\n INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Eve gets undressed... waiting for Archer.\n\n EVE\n How was your first day back?\n\n No reply... Eve hears WATER RUNNING. She approaches\n Archer, who's bent over the sink, washing his face.\n\n EVE\n Jon?\n\n Archer stands up -- revealing Castor's face in the\n bathroom mirror. Eve chokes back a scream.\n\n Archer turns and faces her", "ants -- bound with duct\n tape.\n\n HOAG\n What's this about? What do you\n want?\n\n Lars shoves Hoag into a towering figure... we ZOOM IN ON\n Hoag's glasses. And THROUGH the REFLECTION we see...\n\n\n MAN WITHOUT FACE\n\n Hoag reacts in horror at the raw muscle, cartilage and\n bone. The man lifts a cigarette to his lips... then \n exhales.\n\n CA" ], [ " Archer senses something... He looks up and...\n\n Whoosh! Something swoops down -- but it's just a\n pelican.\n\n He FIDDLES with the ENGINE -- which finally DIES. Archer\n grabs the oars -- about to start rowing when --\n\n Another swoop! This time it's the prison chopper.\n\n Archer spots a string of buoys dotting the harbor. An\n idea.\n\n\n WIDE SHOT\n\n The chopper sett", "\n\n Archer sees guards charging the room. He tries closing\n the door -- but the guards arrive. Dubov lumbers over\n and puts his massive weight into it -- and slams the door\n shut.\n\n O.S., guards POUND at the now-locked door.\n\n Archer quickly frisks Walton -- coming up with a\n cigarette lighter. he pockets it.\n\n Scanning around -- Archer leaps onto a mounted, hinged\n lamp. it swings against the wall. Archer uses it", " A sea gull flies across his face -- as we FOLLOW the\n bird...\n\n PULL WAY, WAY BACK to reveal:\n\n The prison's in the middle of the goddamn ocean, in what\n appears to be just an abandoned, rusty oil rig platform. \n\n Archer rushes over to a transport chopper.\n\n\n INSIDE COCKPIT\n\n Archer searches for the keys. No go. He throws\n switches. Nothing works.\n\n Guards pour", "ahead of the onrushing\n guards.\n\n As BULLETS CLANG around him -- Archer reaches the top.\n He ignores a sign which reads...\n\n EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY\n SAFETY LINES REQUIRED\n\n He charges straight up a ladder and plows right\n through --\n\n SMASH CUT:\n\n EXT. PRISON - DAWN\n\n Archer's blinded -- it's daytime in the real world.\n\n", "guards -- but\n as he turns to follow... Walton BLOWS him away.\n\n Archer reaches to pull Dubov through, but the riddled\n inmate ignores the helping hand. Pulling the door shut,\n he collapses in front of it -- blocking it momentarily.\n\n\n INT. HIGH CATWALK TOWER\n\n Archer hesitates for a moment... but that's all he has.\n he keeps going... up the winding staircase-catwalk --\n higher and higher -- a step", " Archer and Dubov almost reach the next level when...\n\n WALTON\n There!\n\n BULLETS SMACK the wall around them -- just as Archer and\n Dubov reach the next catwalk.\n\n Archer spots the emergency exit security door at the far\n end. But four guards descend on them -- and block their\n way.\n\n Fist fight as Archer and Dubov take on the attacking\n guards. Archer heaves one down the stairs -- into more\n guards. Dubov drops another over", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", " Two guards watch Archer and Dubov disappear off the\n clinic's monitor. They grab their shock-sticks and rush\n for the door.\n\n The door opens -- revealing Dubov and Archer. Perfectly\n in synch -- they double cold-cock the startled guards.\n Archer grabs a shock-stick -- and fuses the door shut.\n\n He yanks out wires and shatters the computers. Dubov\n mimics the behavior -- ripping out an entire console --\n and revealing a narrow cable duct", "and locks the steel\n collars over Archer's shoes. He tries to move -- but\n can't.\n\n ARCHER\n They're too tight.\n\n WALTON\n So's a noose. Now keep your mouth\n <u>shut</u>.\n\n Walton JOLTS Archer with his HIGH-VOLTAGE SHOCK-STICK.\n\n WALTON\n The prison's one big magnetic\n field. The boots'll tell us where\n", " other metal debris stuck to the sheer wall. He pulls one\n screw away -- and lets it fly back into the polarized\n wall.\n\n Archer gets an idea -- and looks back the way they came. \n\n SMASH CUT:\n\n\n SHEER WALL\n\n Archer and Dubov scale the face -- using the old metal\n boots. They climb higher and higher as...\n\n Guards criss-cross the catwalks and staircases below and\n around them -- oblivious.\n\n", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "-- the\n assistant darts out of the room.\n\n As Archer pulls free -- Walton looms over him -- gun\n poised.\n\n Then -- wham! Dubov wallops Walton -- using his boots as\n brass knuckles. The head guard collapses.\n\n Dubov smiles dumbly at Archer -- all trace of vendetta\n now obliterated. Archer nods gratefully -- they're on\n the same team... at least for now.\n\n Suddenly the ALARM BLARES.", "he pulls out and heads west.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER HOME - BACK YARD - DAY\n\n A plank in the fence swings aside as Archer slips into\n the yard. He peers out from behind the garage.\n\n A cop sits in a lawn chair, tuning a POLICE-BAND RADIO.\n\n Archer approaches the bird feeder. Quietly, he sticks\n his hand inside -- and searches for the key.\n\n Just when he grabs it -- CAW-CA", "ol case.\n\n ARCHER\n What did he do?\n\n VOISINE\n He hit a guard.\n\n Archer sees Walton hovering nearby. Archer heads for\n him.\n\n WALTON\n Looking for trouble, Castor?\n\n ARCHER\n As a matter of fact -- yes.\n\n Crack! Archer decks Walton.\n\n\n INT. PRISON - POPULATION - NIGHT\n\n Walton and a guard herd Ar", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "s\n listening I have a message for\n him:\n (directly into\n camera)\n Nice try. Now you know who's\n really in charge.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - POPULATION\n\n Watching the TV, Archer's enraged, frustrated. Then his \n eyes focus... he watches closely as --\n\n A guard uses his \"thumbprint ID\" to get through the \n security door. Archer's eyes fall on the thumbprint scan\n", "sea. Archer upends a\n stack of oil barrels -- which roll into more guards.\n Archer spots:\n\n\n TUGBOAT\n\n pulling a Zodiac dinghy -- heading out to sea.\n\n Archer jumps up a stack of pipes to the south rail --\n where the end of a crane's hook is tagged back. Under\n FIRE -- Archer frees the hook, which swings away from the\n platform.\n\n Hanging on to the hook, it swings him out over", "the catwalk.\n\n They continue their desperate race for the door --\n reaching the landing. As BULLETS PING around them --\n hulking Dubov rips away a floor panel. He uses it as a\n shield as Archer sparks up Walton's lighter.\n\n As SLUGS EXPLODE into the shield -- Archer places the\n flame to his thumb... and peels off the skin mold.\n\n He presses his thumb to the door's keypad. To his \n horror, its", "lets Archer dress. Another guard\n places a pair of odd-looking steel boots before Archer.\n\n WALTON\n Step into them.\n\n Archer inspects the lock-down boots. Hinged steel\n collars hook over the shoe and encase the ankle. The\n soles are gridded steel with magnetic inserts.\n\n WALTON\n Don't sniff 'em, you perv. Just\n step into them.\n\n Archer obeys. A guard squats down", "ito... he smiles, then recoils in shock as\n Castor lifts a pistol and shoots him... then he picks up\n Archer's wedding band off the counter...\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON (PRESENT)\n\n Archer stares -- thunderstruck -- at the wedding band now\n on Castor's finger.\n\n CASTOR\n -- then again, I guess you were\n there.\n (a beat)\n I torched every shred of evidence\n that proves who" ], [ "up.\n\n Lazarro twitches in a death throe, then slumps to the\n ground.\n\n CASTOR\n Now you understand.\n\n He punches up the intercom button.\n\n CASTOR\n Cancel my four o'clock.\n (beat)\n And send for the paramedics.\n Victor Lazarro's having a heart\n attack.\n\n Castor fixes himself a shot of mescal. He checks his\n watch -- as if counting -- then kneels beside", " EVE\n What memorial service?\n\n CASTOR\n Victor Lazarro had a heart\n seizure... right in my office. It\n was horrible...\n\n EVE\n Oh, my God...\n\n Castor pours it on -- feigning immense grief.\n\n CASTOR\n First Tito... now Victor...\n (holds her tight)\n ... please don't tell me I'm going\n to lose you, too...\n\n EVE\n (returns", "the offices.\n\n LAZARRO\n You start meeting with Brodie and\n Miller. Then they die\n mysteriously. Your best friend is\n murdered -- and you don't seem to\n give a shit.\n Suddenly you're smoking, drinking,\n acting like a man with something\n to hide...\n (beat)\n Maybe you've been bought -- maybe\n you've lost your mind. But I\n promise... I'm going to find out.\n\n Eye to eye... Castor knows", "he can't finesse this one.\n\n CASTOR\n Okay, Vic, I have a confession to\n make. But you aren't gonna like\n it...\n (wraps arm\n around neck)\n I'm Castor Troy.\n\n LAZARRO\n -- I don't understand...\n\n Castor suddenly jabs his fist into Lazarro's chest. He\n pleads for mercy as Castor pounds and pounds away at his\n heart -- until it finally seizes", "Lazarro's\n body.\n\n The door flies open -- and two medics rush in. They see\n Castor vigorously pumping Lazarro's chest -- \"applying\"\n CPR.\n\n The medics gently nudge Castor aside. One medic takes\n Lazarro's pulse, then shakes his head.\n\n\n EXT. GRIFFITH PARK OBSERVATORY - DAY\n\n Castor peers down over the city... trying to collect\n himself. He lights up", " We're down to 72 hours. Let's\n call Lazarro. Castor Troy just\n came out of his coma.\n\n\n EXT. FBI HELIPORT - DAY\n\n Armed agents take their positions around a helipad. A \n jet-black helicopter drops from the sky like an angry \n wasp.\n\n\n EXT. HELIPAD - DAY\n\n As Lazarro watches -- Tito escorts out a heavily-manacled \n \"", "job, Victor.\n\n LAZARRO\n The job <u>I've</u> been protecting for\n the last eight years. From now\n on, you go strictly by the book.\n <u>Everything</u> gets cleared by me.\n Understand?\n\n Lazarro stomps off. Castor watches him go, wheels\n turning.\n\n\n INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY\n\n Castor enters -- shutting down the mikes... and the\n blinds.", "near\n tears -- because she knows this may be the last time.\n\n SASHA\n Thank you, Caz... thank you...\n\n ARCHER\n Get the boy out of here...\n\n Livia and the remaining bodyguard hustle Archer out --\n\n\n INT. ROTUNDA - NIGHT\n\n MAC-10 poised, Livia and the bodyguard rush Archer\n through the deserted rotunda -- BOOM! BOOM! His escorts\n drop.\n\n Castor r", ".\n\n ALDO\n (cocks GUN)\n It's pay-back time.\n\n Aldo aims at Castor when BOOM! He's blown apart.\n\n Lars charges in -- BLASTING.\n\n Archer grabs a block-and-tackle as --\n\n Lunt dives for Aldo's fallen machine-pistol. Archer\n swings the block-and-tackle -- whacking Lunt across the\n head.\n\n Castor scoops up", "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", "\n row. The ceremony begins.\n\n PRIEST\n We are here to celebrate the life\n of Victor Lazarro. We all know\n him as a man who dedicated himself\n to defending this great nation --\n first, as a highly decorated\n admiral -- then, as west coast\n director of the F.B.I. But not\n all of you know what a deeply\n spiritual man he was. It was his\n wish that his Requiem Mass be\n performed in Latin.\n (a beat)", "through it.\n\n ROOKIE LOOMIS snaps alert -- did he see something?\n Advancing carefully, he comes up on...\n\n Castor -- staunching Pollux's shoulder wound. Pollux\n sees the agent -- and FIRES.\n\n Loomis hits the floor -- his bleeding ear is shredded.\n\n Suddenly a forklift charges down on Castor and Pollux.\n\n Tito is at the wheel. Castor FIRES -- forcing Tito to\n dive off. The forklift careens", "SILENCED TRANK-DART explodes from the\n barrel.\n\n\n FOLLOW DART\n\n Screaming toward Castor's neck -- but it goes just wide.\n It sinks harmlessly into the grass -- unnoticed during\n the 21-GUN SALUTE.\n\n\n ON KNOLL\n\n THUMP! Archer is cracked across the head. He slumps\n down, unconscious, as a silenced gun barrel gently enters\n his ear. As the saluting G", "would've\n roasted us for this one -- thank\n God it paid off. Damn fine work.\n\n ARCHER\n Real fine, Victor. Especially the\n casualties.\n\n Archer contemplates the slain agents -- their three\n bodies laid out in a row -- waiting to be zip-locked.\n Lazarro reacts grimly as a reporter snaps a photo of the\n bodies.\n\n Instinctively, the two men close ranks. Archer grabs the\n Nikon, ejects the", "film, then shoves the camera back.\n\n LAZARRO\n Classified information. No\n photographs.\n\n Lazarro puts a caring arm around Archer's shoulder and\n leads him away from the media... and the carnage.\n\n LAZARRO\n You okay, Jon?\n (off Archer's nod)\n Then go home. Tell Eve.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME (SANTA MONICA) - SUNSET\n\n A renov", "ug.\n\n\n HALLWAY JUST OUTSIDE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n Lazarro blanches as an obsessed Archer repeatedly slams\n the table leg against the wall -- above Dietrich's head.\n\n LAZARRO\n The only ticking bomb I see is\n inside his head. He's getting\n worse, Tito.\n\n TITO\n Don't worry, sir. It's all an\n act...\n\n But as Lazarro leaves -- we", "BOOM! Castor FIRES -- blowing apart an under-repair\n hull. He advances toward the boat, gun ready, when\n Archer appears behind him and follows -- one step, two\n steps -- until --\n\n Castor stops -- then whirls as Archer leaps.\n\n The men collapse hard. Castor's pistol clatters across\n the yard toward the docked boat.\n\n Archer and Castor brutally strangle each other -- digging\n their fingers deep into their throats. They throttle", "away... and dies. He turns to Loomis...\n\n CASTOR\n Get a medic -- now!\n\n LOOMIS\n Forget him, sir. It's only Pollux\n Troy...\n\n Castor snaps. Without hesitation, he jerks up his GUN\n and PUTS a BULLET right in the middle of Loomis's\n forehead.\n\n Castor looks at the dead kid -- his rage barely abated\n as -- Buzz and Wanda arrive on the scene", "his feet... we don't see\n what CASTOR sees -- but we hear him MOAN... then CHOKE...\n then SCREAM -- the only moment Castor ever loses his\n cool.\n\n Finally composing himself -- Castor's hand grips the\n phone and he dials.\n\n CASTOR\n Lars... okay, <u>Lunt</u>, then.\n (rifling desk\n documents)\n Something really fucked-up\n happened... I'm in trouble... so\n listen", "\n\n During the GUN BATTLE -- we INTERCUT the deaths of\n Dietrich, Lars and Sasha WITH:\n\n\n EXT. SEA - LAZARRO'S ASHES\n\n being scattered at sea.\n\n Castor and Lars RIDDLE Sasha. She drops. Archer FIRES\n back -- killing Lars and driving Castor back.\n\n Archer leans beside the mortally-wounded Sasha.\n\n SASHA\n ... Help Adam... don't let him" ], [ "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "your help.\n\n ALDO\n Archer's a damn celebrity now --\n he's untouchable -- and you're\n radioactive.\n\n He turns to leave. Archer wheels him around and smashes\n him into the wall. Aldo goes for his gun, but Archer's\n too quick -- he strips him of it.\n\n The four bodyguards draw their weapons -- and surround\n Archer.\n\n ARCHER\n You wanna face-off with <u>Castor</", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "Castor tries to strangle him -- Archer headbutts\n Castor, who reels -- snagging his leg around the chain.\n Castor falls back -- plunging toward the water.\n\n Archer tries to hold Castor up... as the boat speeds\n toward --\n\n\n PIER\n\n Archer yanks Castor back onto the deck as the BOAT\n BOUNCES OFF the pier pilings. But as they slug it out...\n\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n\n WHAM! The BO", ". Then he struts\n toward his office -- pausing only to give Kim a playful\n swat on the rump. She's stunned.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Castor surveys his new domain. He settles into Archer's\n big leather chair... sees a framed photo of Archer and\n family. He apes Archer's dumb posed smile...\n\n CASTOR\n Jon, your career is finally taking\n of.\n (", "cher studies the image of his former self -- trying to\n understand. Then he recognizes the smirk on the face, \n the mocking twinkle in the eyes and he says what he \n cannot say...\n\n ARCHER\n -- Castor...?\n\n CASTOR\n Not anymore.\n\n ARCHER\n It can't be. It's impossible.\n\n CASTOR\n I believe the phrase Dr. Hoag used\n was 'titanically remote'. Who\n knows", "for someone to step in, take\n charge, give them hope again.\n What if that someone was an F.B.I.\n hero? A true Boy Scout and family\n man -- with a spotless past.\n Imagine where that guy could land\n -- if the timing's right.\n\n POLLUX\n It's an audacious dream, Caz. But\n Jon Archer is hardly a household\n name.\n\n CASTOR\n Not yet he isn't. But after you\n ", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "Castor BLAST at EACH OTHER\n at point-blank range. Their boats smash and pound each\n other.\n\n A police boat closes in on them.\n\n Castor FIRES at the police -- obliterating both crew and\n boat. The POLICE BOAT'S rear SMASHES into Archer's\n craft.\n\n Archer's BOAT plows up and through the other. EXPLOSION!\n Momentum carries Archer across -- and back into the\n water.\n\n", "Do it.\n\n\n TRANSFORMATION MONTAGE\n\n (INTERCUT huge video screen enlargements of Archer and\n Castor's body parts as necessary):\n\n Globules of adipose tissue are siphoned off Archer's \n obliques. At the same time...\n\n Hoag recreates the \"Great Sphinx\" tattoo on Archer's\n thigh. We PUSH IN ON his leg, then PULL BACK to\n reveal...\n\n Archer and Tito", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his", "AT careens off a piling -- and ROARS\n straight for the shipyard. COLLIDING with a shoreline\n obstruction --\n\n The BOAT FLIPS, stern over bow...\n\n Archer and Castor go flying... onto the beach.\n\n\n EXT. BEACH - DAY\n\n Archer and Castor lie dazed... then stir. Castor sees\n the pistol lying half-buried... he reaches for it.\n But --\n\n Archer gets it first. He aims it at Castor", "whatever he did\n -- I know it's my fault and I know\n I can never make it up to you --\n\n She pulls herself together -- regaining her composure.\n\n EVE\n But you're damn well going to try.\n (a beat)\n First -- how are we going to get\n you out of this?\n\n\n INT. ARCHER HOME - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Castor wakes up and finds Eve gone. His eyes narrow as\n he touches the mos", "\n\n She stares at him with equal amounts of pity and hatred.\n\n SASHA\n I haven't seen him for years.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n Archer watches as Adam leaves Dietrich and jumps into \n Sasha's arms. She hugs him protectively. Adam sees\n Archer watching them -- and smiles. Archer doesn't smile\n back.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S REAL FACE\n\n PULL", "picks up phone)\n Archer. Sure I'll hold...\n\n Waiting, he picks up a handbook: <u>You and the FBI: A</u>\n <u>Primer for New Employees</u>. Then...\n\n CASTOR\n Mr. President, what an honor...\n\n Castor pumps a \"whacking off\" gesture with his hand.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME - DAY\n\n Castor, carrying grocery bags, comes into the back" ], [ "up.\n\n Lazarro twitches in a death throe, then slumps to the\n ground.\n\n CASTOR\n Now you understand.\n\n He punches up the intercom button.\n\n CASTOR\n Cancel my four o'clock.\n (beat)\n And send for the paramedics.\n Victor Lazarro's having a heart\n attack.\n\n Castor fixes himself a shot of mescal. He checks his\n watch -- as if counting -- then kneels beside", "Lazarro's\n body.\n\n The door flies open -- and two medics rush in. They see\n Castor vigorously pumping Lazarro's chest -- \"applying\"\n CPR.\n\n The medics gently nudge Castor aside. One medic takes\n Lazarro's pulse, then shakes his head.\n\n\n EXT. GRIFFITH PARK OBSERVATORY - DAY\n\n Castor peers down over the city... trying to collect\n himself. He lights up", " EVE\n What memorial service?\n\n CASTOR\n Victor Lazarro had a heart\n seizure... right in my office. It\n was horrible...\n\n EVE\n Oh, my God...\n\n Castor pours it on -- feigning immense grief.\n\n CASTOR\n First Tito... now Victor...\n (holds her tight)\n ... please don't tell me I'm going\n to lose you, too...\n\n EVE\n (returns", "the offices.\n\n LAZARRO\n You start meeting with Brodie and\n Miller. Then they die\n mysteriously. Your best friend is\n murdered -- and you don't seem to\n give a shit.\n Suddenly you're smoking, drinking,\n acting like a man with something\n to hide...\n (beat)\n Maybe you've been bought -- maybe\n you've lost your mind. But I\n promise... I'm going to find out.\n\n Eye to eye... Castor knows", "he can't finesse this one.\n\n CASTOR\n Okay, Vic, I have a confession to\n make. But you aren't gonna like\n it...\n (wraps arm\n around neck)\n I'm Castor Troy.\n\n LAZARRO\n -- I don't understand...\n\n Castor suddenly jabs his fist into Lazarro's chest. He\n pleads for mercy as Castor pounds and pounds away at his\n heart -- until it finally seizes", "\n row. The ceremony begins.\n\n PRIEST\n We are here to celebrate the life\n of Victor Lazarro. We all know\n him as a man who dedicated himself\n to defending this great nation --\n first, as a highly decorated\n admiral -- then, as west coast\n director of the F.B.I. But not\n all of you know what a deeply\n spiritual man he was. It was his\n wish that his Requiem Mass be\n performed in Latin.\n (a beat)", "\n\n During the GUN BATTLE -- we INTERCUT the deaths of\n Dietrich, Lars and Sasha WITH:\n\n\n EXT. SEA - LAZARRO'S ASHES\n\n being scattered at sea.\n\n Castor and Lars RIDDLE Sasha. She drops. Archer FIRES\n back -- killing Lars and driving Castor back.\n\n Archer leans beside the mortally-wounded Sasha.\n\n SASHA\n ... Help Adam... don't let him", " We're down to 72 hours. Let's\n call Lazarro. Castor Troy just\n came out of his coma.\n\n\n EXT. FBI HELIPORT - DAY\n\n Armed agents take their positions around a helipad. A \n jet-black helicopter drops from the sky like an angry \n wasp.\n\n\n EXT. HELIPAD - DAY\n\n As Lazarro watches -- Tito escorts out a heavily-manacled \n \"", "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", "near\n tears -- because she knows this may be the last time.\n\n SASHA\n Thank you, Caz... thank you...\n\n ARCHER\n Get the boy out of here...\n\n Livia and the remaining bodyguard hustle Archer out --\n\n\n INT. ROTUNDA - NIGHT\n\n MAC-10 poised, Livia and the bodyguard rush Archer\n through the deserted rotunda -- BOOM! BOOM! His escorts\n drop.\n\n Castor r", "would've\n roasted us for this one -- thank\n God it paid off. Damn fine work.\n\n ARCHER\n Real fine, Victor. Especially the\n casualties.\n\n Archer contemplates the slain agents -- their three\n bodies laid out in a row -- waiting to be zip-locked.\n Lazarro reacts grimly as a reporter snaps a photo of the\n bodies.\n\n Instinctively, the two men close ranks. Archer grabs the\n Nikon, ejects the", "through it.\n\n ROOKIE LOOMIS snaps alert -- did he see something?\n Advancing carefully, he comes up on...\n\n Castor -- staunching Pollux's shoulder wound. Pollux\n sees the agent -- and FIRES.\n\n Loomis hits the floor -- his bleeding ear is shredded.\n\n Suddenly a forklift charges down on Castor and Pollux.\n\n Tito is at the wheel. Castor FIRES -- forcing Tito to\n dive off. The forklift careens", ".\n\n ALDO\n (cocks GUN)\n It's pay-back time.\n\n Aldo aims at Castor when BOOM! He's blown apart.\n\n Lars charges in -- BLASTING.\n\n Archer grabs a block-and-tackle as --\n\n Lunt dives for Aldo's fallen machine-pistol. Archer\n swings the block-and-tackle -- whacking Lunt across the\n head.\n\n Castor scoops up", "ug.\n\n\n HALLWAY JUST OUTSIDE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n Lazarro blanches as an obsessed Archer repeatedly slams\n the table leg against the wall -- above Dietrich's head.\n\n LAZARRO\n The only ticking bomb I see is\n inside his head. He's getting\n worse, Tito.\n\n TITO\n Don't worry, sir. It's all an\n act...\n\n But as Lazarro leaves -- we", "job, Victor.\n\n LAZARRO\n The job <u>I've</u> been protecting for\n the last eight years. From now\n on, you go strictly by the book.\n <u>Everything</u> gets cleared by me.\n Understand?\n\n Lazarro stomps off. Castor watches him go, wheels\n turning.\n\n\n INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY\n\n Castor enters -- shutting down the mikes... and the\n blinds.", "film, then shoves the camera back.\n\n LAZARRO\n Classified information. No\n photographs.\n\n Lazarro puts a caring arm around Archer's shoulder and\n leads him away from the media... and the carnage.\n\n LAZARRO\n You okay, Jon?\n (off Archer's nod)\n Then go home. Tell Eve.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME (SANTA MONICA) - SUNSET\n\n A renov", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "away... and dies. He turns to Loomis...\n\n CASTOR\n Get a medic -- now!\n\n LOOMIS\n Forget him, sir. It's only Pollux\n Troy...\n\n Castor snaps. Without hesitation, he jerks up his GUN\n and PUTS a BULLET right in the middle of Loomis's\n forehead.\n\n Castor looks at the dead kid -- his rage barely abated\n as -- Buzz and Wanda arrive on the scene", "DA\n\n Castor watches in horror as Pollux pancakes onto the\n floor at his feet.\n\n CASTOR\n Pollux...\n\n Pollux is almost gone. Castor looks up and sees --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Peering down into the rotunda.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n OPENS FIRE --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Ducks the bullets as he disappears.\n\n Castor desperately holds Pollux -- to no avail. Pollux\n slips", "BOOM! Castor FIRES -- blowing apart an under-repair\n hull. He advances toward the boat, gun ready, when\n Archer appears behind him and follows -- one step, two\n steps -- until --\n\n Castor stops -- then whirls as Archer leaps.\n\n The men collapse hard. Castor's pistol clatters across\n the yard toward the docked boat.\n\n Archer and Castor brutally strangle each other -- digging\n their fingers deep into their throats. They throttle" ], [ "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", "\n\n FBI CHOPPER\n\n lands. Archer steps out calmly -- like a cop about to \n write a traffic ticket. He hurries to join more FBI \n agents rushing into the hangar ahead of him.\n\n\n INT. HANGAR - DAY\n\n The jet hatch pops open -- Castor leaps from it, FIRING.\n\n Two FBI agents drop -- riddled.\n\n Pollux appears at the hatch -- an FBI sharpshooter FIRES,\n grazing Pollux'", " EXT. FBI BUILDING - INTELLIGENCE MEMORIAL - DAY\n\n Words etched in the granite wall read:\n\n IN HONOR OF THOSE MEMBERS\n OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION\n WHO SACRIFICED THEIR LIVES\n IN THE LINE OF DUTY\n\n Archer watches as a workman engraves the last of the\n three new stars among so many others -- each one honoring\n the dead", "ets off.\n\n\n INT. FBI BUILDING - DAY\n\n Dominated by the FBI seal. Archer steps to the check\n point.\n\n SECURITY GUARD\n Print, please.\n\n Archer presses his thumb to a scan-pad -- and is cleared.\n\n\n INT. BULL PEN - DAY\n\n Efficient as a beehive -- agents, cryptologists, support \n staff buzz at their routines. Archer strides through -- \n drawing congratulatory", " As Castor turns and staggers away -- he runs smack into a\n confused security agent.\n\n CASTOR\n Give me your weapon -- now!\n\n The agent hands over his UZI -- and Castor PLUGS him.\n\n\n BOATYARD\n\n Archer and Eve make sure Jamie's okay.\n\n JAMIE\n (to Archer)\n Who <u>are</u> you? Will someone please\n tell me what's going on?\n\n Archer r", "\n\n With surprising speed, Dietrich yanks a pistol from\n someplace and jerks around --\n\n Archer -- hunkered down in the back seat -- stares into \n the barrel of Dietrich's pistol.\n\n DIETRICH\n Jesus Christ, Castor.\n\n ARCHER\n Drive. And punch up your\n cellular -- I need you to make\n some calls.\n\n DIETRICH\n You're gonna get me busted!\n\n ARCHER", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "film, then shoves the camera back.\n\n LAZARRO\n Classified information. No\n photographs.\n\n Lazarro puts a caring arm around Archer's shoulder and\n leads him away from the media... and the carnage.\n\n LAZARRO\n You okay, Jon?\n (off Archer's nod)\n Then go home. Tell Eve.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME (SANTA MONICA) - SUNSET\n\n A renov", " you are -- every second of the\n day.\n (into comm-link)\n 201 to Population.\n\n Walton presses his thumb into a standard FBI scan-pad.\n It forms a print -- positively identifying the guard.\n The heavy blast-door automatically opens.\n\n WALTON\n I've got fifty bucks says you're\n dead by dinner. Don't disappoint\n me.\n\n Walton prods Archer toward the door. To Archer's\n surprise", "Archer drives on -- listening to KFWB.\n\n RADIO REPORTER (V.O.)\n ... the escapee is considered\n extremely dangerous. If you have\n any information concerning the\n whereabouts of Castor Troy...\n\n He SHUTS it OFF as he sees in the distance:\n\n\n HIS OWN HOME\n\n FBI and LAPD vehicles are parked in front. No way he's\n getting near there.\n\n In his rearview mirror Archer spots a cop car\n ", "\n otherwise...\n\n The steel panels shut - silencing Archer's pleading\n voice.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CAR - MOVING - DAY\n\n Sipping a beer, Castor cruises past the suburban bliss:\n men on hammocks; women chatting; kids playing tag.\n\n CASTOR\n (sickened)\n Jesus, what a life.\n\n Castor tries to catch a street address and rolls past...\n\n\n ARCHER'S HOUSE", "s well-built secretary -- KIM BREWSTER -- hands\n him his messages. She's holding a bottle of Dom\n Perignon.\n\n KIMBERLY\n The C.I.A. sent this over. What\n should I do with it?\n\n ARCHER\n Send it back and tell them to stop\n wasting the taxpayers' money.\n Anything else, Miss Brewster?\n\n KIMBERLY\n No, sir.\n\n He enters his office. Kimber", "a smoke... planning his next move.\n His meditation is broken as a police chopper circles\n above.\n\n MATCH CUT TO:\n\n\n EXT. CITY - VARIOUS SHOTS - DAY\n\n LAPD choppers circle... squad cars prowl... cops and FBI\n agents set up roadblocks. The city is being sealed off.\n\n\n EXT. DOWNTOWN - BROADWAY - DAY\n\n Skirting a roadblock, Archer appears to be coming\n undone", "in the face. The cop gags and sags.\n Archer quickly slips behind the wheel.\n\n Inside: Archer hits a switch -- the car's tinted windows \n darken automatically, obscuring him from the outside. He\n HITS the GAS -- SCREAMING away.\n\n\n EXT. STREET - DAY\n\n Archer slows the squad car.\n\n Up ahead: Parked cop cars block both lanes of the main \n road -- a roadblock checkpoint for all traffic", " A sea gull flies across his face -- as we FOLLOW the\n bird...\n\n PULL WAY, WAY BACK to reveal:\n\n The prison's in the middle of the goddamn ocean, in what\n appears to be just an abandoned, rusty oil rig platform. \n\n Archer rushes over to a transport chopper.\n\n\n INSIDE COCKPIT\n\n Archer searches for the keys. No go. He throws\n switches. Nothing works.\n\n Guards pour", "\n Something bobs up in the surf. Archer is thrashed ashore\n by the breakers... he crawls gasping onto the sand. He\n takes a few breaths -- then staggers up onto the beach.\n\n\n EXT. TITO'S STREET - NIGHT\n\n Archer's heart sinks as he sees the yellow police cordon\n taped across Tito's front door. Some teenage cholos\n notice him -- so Archer keeps right on going.\n\n\n INT.", "Kim proudly holds a\n copy of <u>Time</u> magazine. His photo is on the cover.\n\n KIM\n Sir -- you're on the cover of\n <u>Time</u>. They're calling you 'An\n Authentic American Hero.'\n\n He just pushes by her and goes into his office.\n\n\n INT. FBI - ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Alone -- Castor picks up the framed photo of Eve and\n Jamie -- staring at it with unbridled", " ARCHER\n Let him go, but I want him\n watched... Who's next?\n\n TITO\n Just Dietrich's sister...\n\n In another booth, a careworn but striking woman sits with\n a little boy on her lap. She gently helps him Crayola a\n book. This is SASHA HASSLER (30) and her son ADAM (5).\n\n\n INT. INTERROGATION BOOTH - DAY\n\n Archer hovers over Sasha --" ], [ "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", "explode. Let's get\n the latest from Valerie Rice...\n\n\n EXT. CONVENTION CENTER - DAY\n\n Castor basks in the attention of the gathered media.\n\n REPORTER RICE\n The apparent target was a group of\n Supreme Court justices -- due to\n speak here today.\n (thrusting microphone)\n Mr. Archer, do you have any idea\n who planted it?\n\n CASTOR\n That's classified. But if he'", "You're a dealer, all right:\n technical secrets, munitions...\n <u>explosives</u>.\n\n DIETRICH\n You've never proven any of that.\n And when my bitchy, never-been-\n laid femi-nazi lawyer gets here,\n she's going to...\n\n ARCHER\n Time's up.\n\n Archer topples the wooden table and tears a leg from the\n top. Brandishing it -- he stalks the startled th", "'confess' -- you'll be a free man.\n And I'll be on my way...\n\n\n EXT. CONVENTION CENTER - DAY\n\n Police VEHICLES ROAR into position. Squads of police\n evacuate throngs of people.\n\n\n INT. CONVENTION CENTER - SUB-BASEMENT - EXTREME\n CLOSEUP - BOMB TIMER - DAY\n\n TICKS down to less than two minutes.\n\n Working as a unit, the", "ers from the inmates as the big screen changes from the\n nature loop to... CNN.\n\n\n ON SCREEN - CONVENTION CENTER\n\n \"Sweating,\" Castor lumbers out, carrying the disarmed\n bomb.\n\n ANCHORMAN (V.O.)\n That was the scene at the L.A.\n Convention Center, where an F.B.I.\n agent is being hailed as a hero.\n Agent Jon Archer disarmed a\n powerful bomb just seconds before\n it was set to", "\n You're already busted, Dietrich.\n It's just a matter of time before\n they pick you up.\n\n Dietrich snakes the car past the crime scene and speeds\n off.\n\n DIETRICH\n Man, when you came to me about\n that bomb -- I <u>knew</u> I should have\n blown you off... but that's my\n fucking curse -- I just can't say\n no to a friend.\n\n ARCHER\n You can't say", "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", "Kim proudly holds a\n copy of <u>Time</u> magazine. His photo is on the cover.\n\n KIM\n Sir -- you're on the cover of\n <u>Time</u>. They're calling you 'An\n Authentic American Hero.'\n\n He just pushes by her and goes into his office.\n\n\n INT. FBI - ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Alone -- Castor picks up the framed photo of Eve and\n Jamie -- staring at it with unbridled", "her maternal warmth replaced\n by an icy hatred. Tito and the child are gone.\n\n ARCHER\n When was the last time you saw\n Castor Troy?\n\n SASHA\n Who cares? He's dead.\n\n ARCHER\n Answer the question.\n\n SASHA\n Look, I'm clean. I teach kids\n now --\n\n ARCHER\n Sasha -- you are a felon, on\n probation for harboring Cast", "What're you gonna do with me\n locked up? You'll drive your wife\n and kid nuts! I bet your daughter\n is just about ripe by now. What's\n her name, Janie?\n\n Enraged, Archer steps boldly forward -- trying to draw\n his enemy out. Silence -- then Archer senses...\n\n Castor is behind him. He FIRES -- Archer dives away.\n The BARRAGE CONTINUES -- driving Archer back between two\n huge turbine", "\n\n POLLUX\n The drug agents we could expose.\n The movie stars we could\n blackmail!\n\n CASTOR\n That's just the bottom of the food\n chain. Pollux -- what would\n happen if somebody planted a bomb\n on Air Force One?\n\n POLLUX\n ... that somebody would get rich.\n And, I suppose, the nation would\n be pretty pissed-off.\n\n CASTOR\n Pissed-off, vulnerable... looking\n ", "? Maybe the trauma of having\n my face cut off pulled me out. Or\n maybe God really is on <u>my</u> side\n after all.\n (starts pacing)\n By the way, I know you don't get\n the papers in here.\n\n Continuing to circle, he displays the current <u>LA Times</u>:\n\n \"INFERNO AT HOAG INSTITUTE -- Malcolm Hoag Dead\"\n\n CASTOR\n Terrible tragedy.\n Hoag was such", " WANDA\n If that bomb is out there -- we're\n almost out of time.\n\n LAZARRO (O.S.)\n Archer!\n\n Lazarro stomps toward them... furious. Buzz and Wanda\n quickly excuse themselves.\n\n LAZARRO\n You made a deal with <u>Pollux Troy</u>?\n He's 'a manipulative psychopath.'\n Your own words, Jon!\n\n CASTOR\n Just let me do my", "his feet... we don't see\n what CASTOR sees -- but we hear him MOAN... then CHOKE...\n then SCREAM -- the only moment Castor ever loses his\n cool.\n\n Finally composing himself -- Castor's hand grips the\n phone and he dials.\n\n CASTOR\n Lars... okay, <u>Lunt</u>, then.\n (rifling desk\n documents)\n Something really fucked-up\n happened... I'm in trouble... so\n listen", "a smoke... planning his next move.\n His meditation is broken as a police chopper circles\n above.\n\n MATCH CUT TO:\n\n\n EXT. CITY - VARIOUS SHOTS - DAY\n\n LAPD choppers circle... squad cars prowl... cops and FBI\n agents set up roadblocks. The city is being sealed off.\n\n\n EXT. DOWNTOWN - BROADWAY - DAY\n\n Skirting a roadblock, Archer appears to be coming\n undone", "s well-built secretary -- KIM BREWSTER -- hands\n him his messages. She's holding a bottle of Dom\n Perignon.\n\n KIMBERLY\n The C.I.A. sent this over. What\n should I do with it?\n\n ARCHER\n Send it back and tell them to stop\n wasting the taxpayers' money.\n Anything else, Miss Brewster?\n\n KIMBERLY\n No, sir.\n\n He enters his office. Kimber", "... wobbly, wild-eyed... he suddenly picks up a\n trash can and carries it down the street in front of his\n face.\n\n Pedestrians gawk at this madman. What's he doing?\n\n Archer finally stops in front of a sporting goods store.\n He swings the trash can. SMASH! The store's WINDOW\n SHATTERS. An ALARM BLARES.\n\n Passersby stare at Archer for a moment -- stunned. Then\n several", "near\n tears -- because she knows this may be the last time.\n\n SASHA\n Thank you, Caz... thank you...\n\n ARCHER\n Get the boy out of here...\n\n Livia and the remaining bodyguard hustle Archer out --\n\n\n INT. ROTUNDA - NIGHT\n\n MAC-10 poised, Livia and the bodyguard rush Archer\n through the deserted rotunda -- BOOM! BOOM! His escorts\n drop.\n\n Castor r", "see Tito's worried, too.\n\n\n BACK INSIDE BOOTH\n\n Archer has a terrified Dietrich backed into the corner.\n\n DIETRICH\n ... Okay! Castor called me but I\n blew him off... I swear I never\n saw him. And I don't know\n anything about any bomb!\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - OUTSIDE INTERROGATION BOOTHS - SAME TIME\n\n Archer emerges... eyes blazing.\n\n", "ER\n Get <u>down</u>!\n\n K-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! The WINDOW PANES SHATTER -- as \n TEARGAS GRENADES and GUNFIRE riddles the loft.\n\n\n OUTSIDE\n\n across the way, Castor directs the FIREPOWER.\n\n\n INT. UPPER LEVEL\n\n Chaos. A bodyguard is mowed down. Dietrich and the\n others scatter and hit the floor." ], [ "SILENCED TRANK-DART explodes from the\n barrel.\n\n\n FOLLOW DART\n\n Screaming toward Castor's neck -- but it goes just wide.\n It sinks harmlessly into the grass -- unnoticed during\n the 21-GUN SALUTE.\n\n\n ON KNOLL\n\n THUMP! Archer is cracked across the head. He slumps\n down, unconscious, as a silenced gun barrel gently enters\n his ear. As the saluting G", "?\n (to Eve)\n Sorry, baby. Castor Troy is about\n to murder you and our daughter...\n but I promise you won't die\n unavenged.\n\n ARCHER\n This is between you and me. Leave\n them out of this.\n\n CASTOR\n It <u>was</u> between you and me. Even\n your little boy -- that wasn't\n supposed to happen. But you\n couldn't let it go.\n\n ", "\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n We've come full circle from Matthew's death: with Archer\n the sniper and Castor the target.\n\n The Priest's emotional reciting of the rites climaxes.\n\n PRIEST\n Requiem aeternam dona eis,\n Domine... Amen.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - TRIGGER\n\n Archer's finger wraps around -- he starts to squeeze...\n\n\n POV THROUGH S", "\n\n During the GUN BATTLE -- we INTERCUT the deaths of\n Dietrich, Lars and Sasha WITH:\n\n\n EXT. SEA - LAZARRO'S ASHES\n\n being scattered at sea.\n\n Castor and Lars RIDDLE Sasha. She drops. Archer FIRES\n back -- killing Lars and driving Castor back.\n\n Archer leans beside the mortally-wounded Sasha.\n\n SASHA\n ... Help Adam... don't let him", "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", ".\n Your husband's blood type is O\n negative. Castor's is A.B.\n\n Archer glances at the balcony -- as FOOTSTEPS CLOMP up \n the stairs. Eve is about to answer -- or scream. But \n then...\n\n ARCHER\n Remember the parachute dream? I'm\n falling, Eve... I'm falling...\n\n The blood drains from her face as... Archer slips over \n the balcony and disappears.", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "her maternal warmth replaced\n by an icy hatred. Tito and the child are gone.\n\n ARCHER\n When was the last time you saw\n Castor Troy?\n\n SASHA\n Who cares? He's dead.\n\n ARCHER\n Answer the question.\n\n SASHA\n Look, I'm clean. I teach kids\n now --\n\n ARCHER\n Sasha -- you are a felon, on\n probation for harboring Cast", "BOOM! Castor FIRES -- blowing apart an under-repair\n hull. He advances toward the boat, gun ready, when\n Archer appears behind him and follows -- one step, two\n steps -- until --\n\n Castor stops -- then whirls as Archer leaps.\n\n The men collapse hard. Castor's pistol clatters across\n the yard toward the docked boat.\n\n Archer and Castor brutally strangle each other -- digging\n their fingers deep into their throats. They throttle", ".\n\n POLLUX\n Man -- that was the worst day of\n our lives!\n\n Archer feigns a \"struggle\" with his memory. He lights a\n new butt with the old -- chain-style... then \"remembers.\"\n\n ARCHER\n Oh, God -- Mom O-D'd at County\n General.\n\n POLLUX\n Retching and convulsing while\n those bastards didn't even try to\n save her sorry ass. You gave", "boom --\n (patting his\n neck)\n Oh, never mind...\n\n The Janitor suddenly twitches, his eyes rolls up in his\n head. As he gasps his last -- Castor heaves him down a\n stairwell. Now we see the needle-thin custom stiletto in\n Castor's hand.\n\n Castor kicks the Janitor's mop and bucket down the stairs\n -- making everything look like an accident.\n\n\n INT. SAME BUILDING - MAIN FLO", "it's all about\n you. Don't even ask me what\n happened.\n\n Archer looks to Eve for help. Eve shakes her head --\n nope.\n\n ARCHER\n Okay. What happened?\n\n JAMIE\n Like you'd ever fucking believe\n <u>me</u>!\n\n She bolts. In anticipation, Eve calmly opens the door as\n Jamie rushes out, then closes it behind her.\n\n EVE\n Well,", "\n DIETRICH\n We all have a reason to hate Jon\n Archer. We all want to see him\n dead --\n\n ARCHER\n And nobody's untouchable if <u>we</u> say\n he's not.\n\n The thugs exchange a glance... reading each other...\n considering.\n\n DIETRICH\n It's all worked out. Caz has\n Archer's routine down cold.\n\n ARCHER\n We start with", "up.\n\n Lazarro twitches in a death throe, then slumps to the\n ground.\n\n CASTOR\n Now you understand.\n\n He punches up the intercom button.\n\n CASTOR\n Cancel my four o'clock.\n (beat)\n And send for the paramedics.\n Victor Lazarro's having a heart\n attack.\n\n Castor fixes himself a shot of mescal. He checks his\n watch -- as if counting -- then kneels beside", "ola.\n\n POLLUX\n You tricked me into telling you\n things I never told anyone...\n\n Archer hears movement above him as Pollux reaches the\n crown.\n\n POLLUX\n Now take it to your grave.\n\n Archer FIRES his PISTOL -- into the glass cupola -- and\n SHATTERS the GLASS beneath Pollux's feet. The cupola\n disintegrates beneath his weight. He plunges down\n into --\n\n\n ROTUN", " She's going to be dead\n by tonight anyway. They're all\n going to be dead. The wife, the\n kid... and the father.\n\n\n EXT. OLD RANCH - HIGH GRASS - DAY\n\n Archer waits as Sasha appears with a long case. In the\n b.g., Adam plays on the Ranch House porch with Dietrich.\n\n ARCHER\n How's the boy?\n\n SASHA\n His ears are still ringing -- but", "through it.\n\n ROOKIE LOOMIS snaps alert -- did he see something?\n Advancing carefully, he comes up on...\n\n Castor -- staunching Pollux's shoulder wound. Pollux\n sees the agent -- and FIRES.\n\n Loomis hits the floor -- his bleeding ear is shredded.\n\n Suddenly a forklift charges down on Castor and Pollux.\n\n Tito is at the wheel. Castor FIRES -- forcing Tito to\n dive off. The forklift careens", "near\n tears -- because she knows this may be the last time.\n\n SASHA\n Thank you, Caz... thank you...\n\n ARCHER\n Get the boy out of here...\n\n Livia and the remaining bodyguard hustle Archer out --\n\n\n INT. ROTUNDA - NIGHT\n\n MAC-10 poised, Livia and the bodyguard rush Archer\n through the deserted rotunda -- BOOM! BOOM! His escorts\n drop.\n\n Castor r", "? Maybe the trauma of having\n my face cut off pulled me out. Or\n maybe God really is on <u>my</u> side\n after all.\n (starts pacing)\n By the way, I know you don't get\n the papers in here.\n\n Continuing to circle, he displays the current <u>LA Times</u>:\n\n \"INFERNO AT HOAG INSTITUTE -- Malcolm Hoag Dead\"\n\n CASTOR\n Terrible tragedy.\n Hoag was such", ".\n\n She places a few child's toys on the marker... a shark...\n a little bulldozer... a spaceship. Overwhelmed with \n grief, she collapses into Castor.\n\n EVE\n He took our baby, Jon. He took\n our little boy.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S FACE\n\n He stares at the grave of the boy he killed -- the boy \n whose mother is weeping into his chest.\n\n The ever-present" ], [ "athed in gauze. The bandages start to fall \n away.\n\n Tito, Miller and Brodie wait as Hoag removes the gauze.\n The patient looks into a mirror.\n\n Jon Archer has become Castor Troy.\n\n he touches his new face. Archer stares... the cold\n reality chilling his blood.\n\n Archer buckles -- unprepared emotionally for what he's\n done to himself. For a moment, he seems to teeter on\n madness.\n\n T", "aches via suction.\n\n Hoag sights through the optical memory, squeezes the\n trigger. A cobalt beam cuts around the face -- cleanly\n slicing it. Then Hoag lifts Archer's face -- off of his\n skull.\n\n Brodie and Miller watch from above. Tito stumbles into\n the nearby bathroom to throw up.\n\n Hoag inspects Archer's face, then turns to his nurse.\n\n HOAG\n Vault it.\n\n Hoag turns to perform", " BRODIE\n ... He can disguise a compromised\n agent or alter the likeness --\n even the voice -- of a government\n witness.\n\n HOAG\n Let me show you how it's done.\n (leading him out)\n I think you'll recognize our\n patient...\n\n\n INT. HOAG'S SURGICAL BAY - DAY\n\n Loomis lies still as a surgeon carefully scrapes away\n charred flesh around his burned ear. The doctor turns to", "Otherwise, nature is cooperating\n nicely. The height difference is\n negligible -- within 1/2 an inch.\n Eye color -- almost a perfect\n match. Penis size, flaccid,\n essentially the same --\n Substantial.\n\n From the observation booth above -- Miller (flanked by\n Tito and Brodie) raises his eyebrow.\n\n On the video screens, the images morph to signify the\n physical augmentations.\n\n HOAG\n Hairline will be adjusted with\n laser-she", ".B.I. surgeon gave me Castor's\n face. He handled the transplant,\n the vocal implant, everything.\n But somehow Castor came out of his\n coma -- and killed everyone who\n knew about the mission. But not\n before he was transformed into me.\n\n The back DOOR CLICKS open. A voice booms out.\n\n COP (O.S.)\n Dr. Archer, are you okay?\n\n ARCHER\n If you need hard evidence, get it", " exactly like Castor's. Then we\n fit his face right on top --\n\n MILLER\n -- and you become him.\n\n ARCHER\n You're talking about removing the\n guy's face?\n\n BRODIE\n Borrowing, Jon. The procedure's\n completely reversible.\n\n MILLER\n One way or the other -- the\n mission ends on the eighteenth.\n\n Archer turns the shell over and over and over in his\n hands", "INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Unconscious, Archer is wheeled into the surgical bay, \n Castor beside him. Hoag turns to the video technician.\n\n HOAG\n Make sure you get everything --\n I'll need to study the tape before\n the reverse surgery.\n\n Hoag lowers an aerated Plexiglas mask over Archer's face.\n Interwoven with integrated laser circuitry -- this Derma-\n Induction-Device (D.I.D.) att", "\n Hoag holds up a face-sized organic shell made up of\n yellow cartilage pieces and tendons, etc. Archer pulls\n it over his face -- like a gauze mask. A \"tendon\" falls\n off.\n\n ARCHER\n This'll fool Pollux.\n\n HOAG\n <u>That</u> is a state-of-the-art morpho-\n genetic template. The inside can\n be built to match the exact shape\n of your skull; the outside --\n", "Castor's head is swathed in gauze. But his eyes pop \n open.\n\n Reflexively, Castor wrenches from the bed -- tearing out \n the tubes and wires that tether him to life support. He \n goes down -- in agony -- groaning.\n\n He struggles to his feet -- staggering through the lab --\n until he catches the reflection of his bandaged face in\n the window. He quickly unwraps the gauze.\n\n The discarded bandages fall at", "? Maybe the trauma of having\n my face cut off pulled me out. Or\n maybe God really is on <u>my</u> side\n after all.\n (starts pacing)\n By the way, I know you don't get\n the papers in here.\n\n Continuing to circle, he displays the current <u>LA Times</u>:\n\n \"INFERNO AT HOAG INSTITUTE -- Malcolm Hoag Dead\"\n\n CASTOR\n Terrible tragedy.\n Hoag was such", "very carefully...\n\n\n EXT. HOAG INSTITUTE - NIGHT (LATER)\n\n A RANGE ROVER SCREECHES up. At gunpoint, Lars and Lunt \n manhandle Hoag into the lab.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Lars and Lunt hustle Hoag in. The lab is on. The \n screens run -- scrolling through the video log of \n Archer's surgery.\n\n Hoag sees his terrified assist", "\n\n Archer turns as DR. MALCOLM HOAG (50s) enters the room.\n\n HOAG\n I think I'd better answer that\n question.\n (offers hand)\n Malcolm Hoag. I run the\n Physiological Camouflage Unit for\n Special Ops.\n\n ARCHER\n I know who you are.\n\n MILLER\n But you don't know what he can do.\n Physical augmentation; enhancement\n surgery...\n\n", "\n a --\n\n\n STEREO-LITHOGRAPHIC MACHINE\n\n Laser-beams attack an organic soup with incredible\n precision. The light forces a chemical reaction -- and \n out of the soup -- an ear begins to form. It rises from \n the liquid, now fully-formed. The surgeon takes the ear \n and fits it in place on Loomis's head. He starts \n suturing.\n\n\n OBSERVATION BOOTH - ABOVE", "\n\n Archer, Hoag, Brodie and Miller watch the operation --\n video-enhanced by the two huge screens on the far walls.\n\n HOAG\n With our new generation of anti-\n inflammatories, healing is\n accelerated from weeks to days.\n By his next paycheck, he won't\n even remember which ear he lost.\n (a beat)\n Your situation, however, would be\n a little less permanent...\n\n BRODIE\n -- and a lot more classified.\n", ".\n\n\n INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Eve gets undressed... waiting for Archer.\n\n EVE\n How was your first day back?\n\n No reply... Eve hears WATER RUNNING. She approaches\n Archer, who's bent over the sink, washing his face.\n\n EVE\n Jon?\n\n Archer stands up -- revealing Castor's face in the\n bathroom mirror. Eve chokes back a scream.\n\n Archer turns and faces her", "the same procedure on Castor.\n\n Castor's consistent EEG reading suddenly spikes\n radically -- for a moment, it almost seems to stabilize.\n Hoag glances over -- too late -- the spikes have \n disappeared.\n\n But the CAMERA CLOSES IN ON Castor's ear -- and we sense\n that, somehow, his auditory nerves might be functioning.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n\n INT. RECOVERY ROOM - DAY\n\n A head sw", "ants -- bound with duct\n tape.\n\n HOAG\n What's this about? What do you\n want?\n\n Lars shoves Hoag into a towering figure... we ZOOM IN ON\n Hoag's glasses. And THROUGH the REFLECTION we see...\n\n\n MAN WITHOUT FACE\n\n Hoag reacts in horror at the raw muscle, cartilage and\n bone. The man lifts a cigarette to his lips... then \n exhales.\n\n CA", "a genius -- but\n selfish with his artistry. I\n actually had to torture his\n assistants to convince him to\n perform the same surgery on me.\n\n ARCHER\n You killed them?\n\n CASTOR\n Of course I killed them, you <u>dumb</u>\n <u>fuck</u>. Hoag, his staff...\n\n FLASH ON Hoag's body -- on the floor of the burning lab.\n Two more burned bodies adjoin Hoag's.\n\n ", "ry night. Van Gogh's night. The night \n he cut off his ear, anyway.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Castor's body lies inert. His life-support MACHINES\n BLIPPING away. Until the EEG spikes. Once -- twice -- \n three times. Brain wave activity increases -- and \n stabilizes.\n\n Castor's fingers twitch. Then his fist clenches -- hard. \n ", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M" ], [ "INT. BURN WARD - NIGHT\n\n Eve quickly wraps gauze around a patient's head -- when\n Castor and his boys rush in, guns leveled.\n\n EVE\n Jon! What are you doing here?\n\n CASTOR\n That's what you're going to\n explain to me.\n\n EVE\n Didn't the police tell you? There\n was an emergency.\n\n Lars starts pulling at the patient's bandages.\n\n EVE\n Jon", "a genius -- but\n selfish with his artistry. I\n actually had to torture his\n assistants to convince him to\n perform the same surgery on me.\n\n ARCHER\n You killed them?\n\n CASTOR\n Of course I killed them, you <u>dumb</u>\n <u>fuck</u>. Hoag, his staff...\n\n FLASH ON Hoag's body -- on the floor of the burning lab.\n Two more burned bodies adjoin Hoag's.\n\n ", " fuck's wrong with you?\n\n Archer stares -- feigning confusion until Walton prods \n him forward. Pollux watches his \"brother\" go -- very \n concerned.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CELL - NIGHT\n\n Archer lies on his cot -- staring at the ceiling. \n Isolated, lonely, he realizes how easy it would be to go \n insane here.\n\n\n EXT. HOAG INSTITUTE - NIGHT\n\n An insanely star", "? Maybe the trauma of having\n my face cut off pulled me out. Or\n maybe God really is on <u>my</u> side\n after all.\n (starts pacing)\n By the way, I know you don't get\n the papers in here.\n\n Continuing to circle, he displays the current <u>LA Times</u>:\n\n \"INFERNO AT HOAG INSTITUTE -- Malcolm Hoag Dead\"\n\n CASTOR\n Terrible tragedy.\n Hoag was such", "\n MED-TECH\n Where's the mop, he puked all over\n the place.\n\n An assistant unstraps Dubov and drops him on a gurney.\n\n MED-TECH\n (mopping up)\n -- next time, bring them in <u>before</u>\n dinner...\n\n Archer cases the place: Above is a catwalk... leading\n out.\n\n\n BACK TO SCENE\n\n Walton muscles Archer into the gurn", "\n If it doesn't happen, take Jamie\n and don't look back...\n\n EVE\n It'll happen.\n\n FOOTSTEPS APPROACH -- they break their embrace.\n\n ARCHER\n Do doctors travel in packs?\n\n EVE\n Only when we're golfing.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT\n\n Castor and the twins round the bend -- just in time to\n see the door to the burn ward close.\n\n\n ", "-- stop it! Mr. Alandro is\n very ill!\n\n CASTOR\n Not as ill as he's going to be...\n\n He blanches as Lars reveals a scarred burn victim -- Mr.\n Alandro. Eve is livid as she attends to the patient.\n\n CASTOR\n Sorry. But what's a guy to think\n when his wife runs off in the\n middle of the night?\n\n EVE\n It's my fault. I should've woken\n", "the catwalk.\n\n They continue their desperate race for the door --\n reaching the landing. As BULLETS PING around them --\n hulking Dubov rips away a floor panel. He uses it as a\n shield as Archer sparks up Walton's lighter.\n\n As SLUGS EXPLODE into the shield -- Archer places the\n flame to his thumb... and peels off the skin mold.\n\n He presses his thumb to the door's keypad. To his \n horror, its", "\n\n Archer sees guards charging the room. He tries closing\n the door -- but the guards arrive. Dubov lumbers over\n and puts his massive weight into it -- and slams the door\n shut.\n\n O.S., guards POUND at the now-locked door.\n\n Archer quickly frisks Walton -- coming up with a\n cigarette lighter. he pockets it.\n\n Scanning around -- Archer leaps onto a mounted, hinged\n lamp. it swings against the wall. Archer uses it", "boom --\n (patting his\n neck)\n Oh, never mind...\n\n The Janitor suddenly twitches, his eyes rolls up in his\n head. As he gasps his last -- Castor heaves him down a\n stairwell. Now we see the needle-thin custom stiletto in\n Castor's hand.\n\n Castor kicks the Janitor's mop and bucket down the stairs\n -- making everything look like an accident.\n\n\n INT. SAME BUILDING - MAIN FLO", "LED reads \"print unreadable.\"\n\n Walton and guards movie in, FIRING at closer and closer\n range.\n\n Dubov staggers under the FUSILLADE OF BULLETS. The\n shield is repeatedly punctured -- and is quickly\n disintegrating.\n\n Archer licks his thumb, tries again. Finally it reads\n \"Clearance Confirmed\"... the door slides open.\n\n ARCHER\n Let's go!\n\n Dubov heaves the shield at the encroaching", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", "very carefully...\n\n\n EXT. HOAG INSTITUTE - NIGHT (LATER)\n\n A RANGE ROVER SCREECHES up. At gunpoint, Lars and Lunt \n manhandle Hoag into the lab.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Lars and Lunt hustle Hoag in. The lab is on. The \n screens run -- scrolling through the video log of \n Archer's surgery.\n\n Hoag sees his terrified assist", "-- unable to reach\n Castor. Castor opens the door and guards rush in --\n clubbing Archer and shocking him senseless.\n\n WALTON\n Sorry, sir.\n\n CASTOR\n It's quite all right. You never\n know what to expect from a\n psychopathic criminal...\n\n\n INT. CELL BLOCK - DAY\n\n The guards dump Archer into his cell.\n\n WALTON\n Better be nice, Castor. You could\n get might", "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", "grabs her.\n She stifles a scream -- then sees... the two COPS.\n\n COP\n Sorry, Dr. Archer. Where are you\n going at this hour?\n\n EVE\n There's been an emergency at the\n hospital.\n\n COP\n One of us will have to escort you.\n\n EVE\n Fine...\n (a beat)\n But please don't wake my\n husband... he's exhausted.\n\n\n EXT. HOSPITAL", " The two deputies react to Walton's call. Identifying\n Archer and Dubov's signature-blips -- they throw the\n appropriate switches and...\n\n ZAP! The magnetic boots lock both inmates to the floor. \n Dubov flails hopelessly -- but Archer's just out of \n reach.\n\n Crack! Walton punches Archer in the diaphragm.\n\n ARCHER\n What? He started it!\n\n Walton smashes Archer", "the offices.\n\n LAZARRO\n You start meeting with Brodie and\n Miller. Then they die\n mysteriously. Your best friend is\n murdered -- and you don't seem to\n give a shit.\n Suddenly you're smoking, drinking,\n acting like a man with something\n to hide...\n (beat)\n Maybe you've been bought -- maybe\n you've lost your mind. But I\n promise... I'm going to find out.\n\n Eye to eye... Castor knows", "-- the\n assistant darts out of the room.\n\n As Archer pulls free -- Walton looms over him -- gun\n poised.\n\n Then -- wham! Dubov wallops Walton -- using his boots as\n brass knuckles. The head guard collapses.\n\n Dubov smiles dumbly at Archer -- all trace of vendetta\n now obliterated. Archer nods gratefully -- they're on\n the same team... at least for now.\n\n Suddenly the ALARM BLARES.", "through the cable duct -- Archer\n struggles to replace the heavy console.\n\n The DOOR is BLOWN open. Walton enters to find... no one.\n Then his eyes light on the console -- slightly askew.\n\n\n INT. CABLE CORRIDOR\n\n Archer and Dubov rush down the tight corridor -- and\n around the bend. The corridor ends in a...\n\n\n STORAGE/MAINTENANCE AREA\n\n Lined with tools, toilets, sinks, a rack of old lock" ], [ "Castor -- using Jamie as a shield -- backs out the gate\n to the garden. Archer follows -- cautiously.\n\n CASTOR\n Say goodbye to Daddy --\n\n Jamie whips out the switchblade -- sinks it into Castor's\n thigh and twists. She dives away. FIRING wildly, Castor\n staggers back through the gate.\n\n CASTOR (O.S.)\n You ungrateful delinquent!\n\n\n OUTSIDE GATE\n\n", "\n\n CASTOR\n I don't think you heard me...\n Jamie... You have something I\n want ...\n\n He reaches for her -- and right past her. He picks up a\n pack of cigarettes from the desk.\n\n JAMIE\n Clarissa left those here.\n\n CASTOR\n (shrugs and\n lights up)\n I won't tell mom if you don't.\n\n JAMIE\n When did you start smoking?\n\n CA", ".\n\n CASTOR\n I'm <u>ordering</u> you to back off!\n\n Several agents waver -- unsure. But not Wanda and Buzz.\n\n WANDA\n Put the gun down --\n\n BUZZ\n -- Now!\n\n CASTOR\n (beat)\n Can't blame me for trying.\n\n He grabs a shocked Jamie -- shoving the gun under her\n chin.\n\n Archer struggles to his feet as --\n\n ", "trick, Jamie. I'm your\n father.\n\n Jamie swings the gun back and forth -- baffled.\n\n CASTOR\n Shoot him, Jamie.\n\n ARCHER\n Jamie...\n\n CASTOR\n Shoot him!\n\n Jamie FIRES. Archer reels -- as a slug grazes his\n shoulder. Castor snatches the PISTOL from Jamie's hand.\n\n CASTOR\n You dunce. No kid of mine would\n", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "was siding with\n him? Did it?\n (she falls silent)\n You want to play with scummy organ\n grinders, you better be prepared.\n Do you have protection?\n\n JAMIE\n You mean like... condoms?\n\n CASTOR\n I mean like... <u>protection</u>.\n\n With a fluid motion, Castor expertly SNAPS open a well-\n oiled SWITCHBLADE and hands it to an astonished Jamie.\n\n J", "ches his eye. He finds a floral\n notebook -- Eve's diary -- and pages through it. Then,\n he reads:\n\n CASTOR\n '... \"Date-night\" has been a\n typical failure... we haven't made\n love in almost two months...'\n What a loser ...\n\n Castor hears a voice. Glancing across the hall, he\n sees...\n\n\n GLIMPSES OF JAMIE\n\n As she walks back and forth in her room, talking on the\n", "within GOES QUIET, but no one emerges.\n\n\n EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)\n\n Curious, Castor approaches the car, keeping a safe \n distance. He can see Jamie inside, struggling with Karl.\n\n JAMIE\n No... Karl, please.\n\n He \"shushes\" Jamie -- but doesn't stop pawing her.\n\n JAMIE\n My father -- he's got a gun --\n he'll -- he'll --", "Castor tries to strangle him -- Archer headbutts\n Castor, who reels -- snagging his leg around the chain.\n Castor falls back -- plunging toward the water.\n\n Archer tries to hold Castor up... as the boat speeds\n toward --\n\n\n PIER\n\n Archer yanks Castor back onto the deck as the BOAT\n BOUNCES OFF the pier pilings. But as they slug it out...\n\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n\n WHAM! The BO", "AMIE\n For me?\n\n CASTOR\n Next time -- slip it in low, then\n twist it -- so the wound doesn't\n close.\n\n She hugs him tight -- taking Castor by surprise. But he\n responds momentarily. About to pat her rump -- something\n makes him stop.\n\n CASTOR\n Go on, get out of here.\n\n Jamie kisses him and heads up stairs. After she's\n gone...\n\n CASTOR\n No", "met him. His name is Adam...\n\n CASTOR\n I imagine I've got a dozen kids --\n so what?\n (cocks pistol)\n No more head games... First your\n wife dies. Then your daughter.\n Then you.\n\n Castor smiles as the DOOR CREAKS open.\n\n CASTOR\n Just one big happy family...\n\n But it's not Jamie and Lars. Three people emerge from\n the shadows, machine pistols poised.\n\n ", "his pistol but Eve kicks him hard in the\n balls. He doubles over.\n\n Archer snatches away the MACHINE PISTOL. Staggered --\n Lunt is quickly riddled by Dietrich.\n\n Castor and Lars BLAZE at the now-scattering intruders --\n driving them back amid the shot's tools and drums.\n\n ARCHER\n Find Jamie!\n\n Eve crawls through the FUSILLADE toward the exit.\n\n\n EXT. MEMOR", "ING \n it. Somehow the kid finds his feet and stumbles behind \n the wheel. The Beemer lurches away.\n\n\n INT. HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Castor enters to find Jamie, still shaken up.\n\n CASTOR\n What are you -- stupid?\n\n JAMIE\n That's just like you. Some guy\n tries to rape me -- and you side\n with <u>him</u>.\n\n CASTOR\n Did it look like I", " As Castor turns and staggers away -- he runs smack into a\n confused security agent.\n\n CASTOR\n Give me your weapon -- now!\n\n The agent hands over his UZI -- and Castor PLUGS him.\n\n\n BOATYARD\n\n Archer and Eve make sure Jamie's okay.\n\n JAMIE\n (to Archer)\n Who <u>are</u> you? Will someone please\n tell me what's going on?\n\n Archer r", "STOR\n You'll be seeing a lot of changes\n around here --\n (blows a perfect\n smoke ring)\n Daddy's a new man.\n\n Jamie stares, astonished, as Castor goes out.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - ARCHER'S CELL\n\n Fists bloody, voice hoarse, Archer pounds at the cell\n door. Exhausted, he finally stops -- staring at the face\n of his enemy in the mirrored door -- the enemy who now", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "As the jet picks up speed... the hatch opens. Castor\n blasts Winters in the side and tosses her onto the\n tarmac.\n\n\n INSIDE\n\n Castor smiles at Pollux, sensing freedom, until...\n\n KA-CHUNK: Something POUNDS the jet -- from above.\n Castor leans out the hatch and sees...\n\n The chopper on top of them -- Archer at the controls.\n\n Eye-contact -- years of hatred pass between these men.\n\n Cast", "his foot inside.\n\n JAMIE\n I'll call you back.\n (to Castor)\n You're not respecting my\n boundaries.\n\n CASTOR\n I'm coming in, Janie.\n\n Castor pushes menacingly into the room.\n\n JAMIE\n 'Janie'?\n\n Castor spots her correct name embroidered on a pillow. \n He gazes seductively -- unnerving Jamie as he steps \n toward her.", " phone -- and wearing only panties and a cropped T-shirt.\n Castor steps closer -- enjoying the view.\n\n CASTOR\n The plot thickens.\n\n\n INT. JAMIE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n Jamie stamps out her cigarette.\n\n JAMIE\n -- I got your E-mail, Karl. That\n poem was really sweet --\n (spots Castor\n at door)\n Hang on a sec...\n\n She slams it -- but he gets", "Castor BLAST at EACH OTHER\n at point-blank range. Their boats smash and pound each\n other.\n\n A police boat closes in on them.\n\n Castor FIRES at the police -- obliterating both crew and\n boat. The POLICE BOAT'S rear SMASHES into Archer's\n craft.\n\n Archer's BOAT plows up and through the other. EXPLOSION!\n Momentum carries Archer across -- and back into the\n water.\n\n" ], [ " Archer senses something... He looks up and...\n\n Whoosh! Something swoops down -- but it's just a\n pelican.\n\n He FIDDLES with the ENGINE -- which finally DIES. Archer\n grabs the oars -- about to start rowing when --\n\n Another swoop! This time it's the prison chopper.\n\n Archer spots a string of buoys dotting the harbor. An\n idea.\n\n\n WIDE SHOT\n\n The chopper sett", " A sea gull flies across his face -- as we FOLLOW the\n bird...\n\n PULL WAY, WAY BACK to reveal:\n\n The prison's in the middle of the goddamn ocean, in what\n appears to be just an abandoned, rusty oil rig platform. \n\n Archer rushes over to a transport chopper.\n\n\n INSIDE COCKPIT\n\n Archer searches for the keys. No go. He throws\n switches. Nothing works.\n\n Guards pour", "\n\n Archer sees guards charging the room. He tries closing\n the door -- but the guards arrive. Dubov lumbers over\n and puts his massive weight into it -- and slams the door\n shut.\n\n O.S., guards POUND at the now-locked door.\n\n Archer quickly frisks Walton -- coming up with a\n cigarette lighter. he pockets it.\n\n Scanning around -- Archer leaps onto a mounted, hinged\n lamp. it swings against the wall. Archer uses it", "ol case.\n\n ARCHER\n What did he do?\n\n VOISINE\n He hit a guard.\n\n Archer sees Walton hovering nearby. Archer heads for\n him.\n\n WALTON\n Looking for trouble, Castor?\n\n ARCHER\n As a matter of fact -- yes.\n\n Crack! Archer decks Walton.\n\n\n INT. PRISON - POPULATION - NIGHT\n\n Walton and a guard herd Ar", "and locks the steel\n collars over Archer's shoes. He tries to move -- but\n can't.\n\n ARCHER\n They're too tight.\n\n WALTON\n So's a noose. Now keep your mouth\n <u>shut</u>.\n\n Walton JOLTS Archer with his HIGH-VOLTAGE SHOCK-STICK.\n\n WALTON\n The prison's one big magnetic\n field. The boots'll tell us where\n", "harder -- he hits the floor.\n\n ARCHER\n When I get out of here --\n\n WALTON\n You'll what?\n\n ARCHER\n I'm going to have you fired.\n\n His statement is so ludicrous, Walton laughs. Everyone \n does. From the inmates' reactions, Archer knows he's \n been accepted.\n\n WALTON\n (to Dubov)\n That's two strikes, Dubov. One\n", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "ahead of the onrushing\n guards.\n\n As BULLETS CLANG around him -- Archer reaches the top.\n He ignores a sign which reads...\n\n EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY\n SAFETY LINES REQUIRED\n\n He charges straight up a ladder and plows right\n through --\n\n SMASH CUT:\n\n EXT. PRISON - DAWN\n\n Archer's blinded -- it's daytime in the real world.\n\n", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "guards -- but\n as he turns to follow... Walton BLOWS him away.\n\n Archer reaches to pull Dubov through, but the riddled\n inmate ignores the helping hand. Pulling the door shut,\n he collapses in front of it -- blocking it momentarily.\n\n\n INT. HIGH CATWALK TOWER\n\n Archer hesitates for a moment... but that's all he has.\n he keeps going... up the winding staircase-catwalk --\n higher and higher -- a step", "s\n listening I have a message for\n him:\n (directly into\n camera)\n Nice try. Now you know who's\n really in charge.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - POPULATION\n\n Watching the TV, Archer's enraged, frustrated. Then his \n eyes focus... he watches closely as --\n\n A guard uses his \"thumbprint ID\" to get through the \n security door. Archer's eyes fall on the thumbprint scan\n", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "STOR\n You'll be seeing a lot of changes\n around here --\n (blows a perfect\n smoke ring)\n Daddy's a new man.\n\n Jamie stares, astonished, as Castor goes out.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - ARCHER'S CELL\n\n Fists bloody, voice hoarse, Archer pounds at the cell\n door. Exhausted, he finally stops -- staring at the face\n of his enemy in the mirrored door -- the enemy who now", " fuck's wrong with you?\n\n Archer stares -- feigning confusion until Walton prods \n him forward. Pollux watches his \"brother\" go -- very \n concerned.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CELL - NIGHT\n\n Archer lies on his cot -- staring at the ceiling. \n Isolated, lonely, he realizes how easy it would be to go \n insane here.\n\n\n EXT. HOAG INSTITUTE - NIGHT\n\n An insanely star", "lets Archer dress. Another guard\n places a pair of odd-looking steel boots before Archer.\n\n WALTON\n Step into them.\n\n Archer inspects the lock-down boots. Hinged steel\n collars hook over the shoe and encase the ankle. The\n soles are gridded steel with magnetic inserts.\n\n WALTON\n Don't sniff 'em, you perv. Just\n step into them.\n\n Archer obeys. A guard squats down", "ton watches as Dubov throws Archer across the room.\n Archer staggers to his feet -- and sees the encircling\n inmates and guards looking at him -- unimpressed.\n\n Especially his \"brother\" Pollux -- who watches\n uncertainly.\n\n Dubov attacks again -- but Archer is ready. He grabs\n Dubov's fist -- just before it hits his face.\n\n ARCHER\n Never -- in -- the -- face.\n\n Holding Dubov's fist firmly, Archer k", "-- unable to reach\n Castor. Castor opens the door and guards rush in --\n clubbing Archer and shocking him senseless.\n\n WALTON\n Sorry, sir.\n\n CASTOR\n It's quite all right. You never\n know what to expect from a\n psychopathic criminal...\n\n\n INT. CELL BLOCK - DAY\n\n The guards dump Archer into his cell.\n\n WALTON\n Better be nice, Castor. You could\n get might", "You are now an Erewhon inmate -- a\n citizen of nowhere. Human rights\n zealots, the Geneva convention and\n the P.C. police have no authority\n here. You have no right...\n (slaps on latex gloves)\n When I say your ass belongs to me\n -- I mean it. Bend over.\n\n Archer's face reflects the degradation as he bends over\n and exposes all to the cavity-searching Guard.\n\n Satisfied, Walton", " The two deputies react to Walton's call. Identifying\n Archer and Dubov's signature-blips -- they throw the\n appropriate switches and...\n\n ZAP! The magnetic boots lock both inmates to the floor. \n Dubov flails hopelessly -- but Archer's just out of \n reach.\n\n Crack! Walton punches Archer in the diaphragm.\n\n ARCHER\n What? He started it!\n\n Walton smashes Archer", "-- he can now move.\n\n\n INT. GENERAL POPULATION - DAY\n\n The inmates eat. Silence descends as Archer enters --\n intensifying the constant HUMMING of the MAGNETIC FIELD.\n Huge Dubov does a slow burn on seeing \"Castor.\"\n\n Scanning the room for Pollux -- Archer takes a seat next\n to a LITTLE, GOATEED MAN with a French accent.\n\n LITTLE MAN\n Hey, Castor --" ], [ "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", "whatever he did\n -- I know it's my fault and I know\n I can never make it up to you --\n\n She pulls herself together -- regaining her composure.\n\n EVE\n But you're damn well going to try.\n (a beat)\n First -- how are we going to get\n you out of this?\n\n\n INT. ARCHER HOME - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Castor wakes up and finds Eve gone. His eyes narrow as\n he touches the mos", "it's all about\n you. Don't even ask me what\n happened.\n\n Archer looks to Eve for help. Eve shakes her head --\n nope.\n\n ARCHER\n Okay. What happened?\n\n JAMIE\n Like you'd ever fucking believe\n <u>me</u>!\n\n She bolts. In anticipation, Eve calmly opens the door as\n Jamie rushes out, then closes it behind her.\n\n EVE\n Well,", "face in her hands -- completely stunned.\n\n ARCHER (O.S.)\n Thanks for believing me.\n\n Archer emerges from the darkness of her office -- but Eve\n pulls a pistol -- aiming it with calm authority.\n\n ARCHER\n What are you doing? Where did you\n get that gun?\n\n EVE\n I took it from my fake husband.\n\n ARCHER\n Why point it at me? I'm the real\n thing.\n\n EVE", "goes to wall-phone)\n Jon? Hello?\n\n INTERCUT Archer and Eve as necessary.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve, listen carefully. The man\n you think is your husband --\n isn't.\n\n EVE\n Who is this?\n\n ARCHER\n Please, just listen! Take Jamie\n and go to your mother's in Santa\n Fe. Don't tell him where you're\n going -- just <u>go</u>.\n\n ", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "but\n she needs you.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve...\n\n Something in Archer's expression makes her stop.\n\n EVE\n Jon -- what is it?\n\n But he's too overcome. He starts to speak -- but can't.\n\n EVE\n Is it -- him? It's... it's over?\n\n Emotions avalanche across his face until he finally looks \n up. Eve pulls him close -- a sheltering embrace for them \n both.", ". And while I'm\n gone, I want you and Jamie to go\n to your mother's. It's\n important...\n\n EVE\n You said you'd be here! You\n promised! What could be more\n important than that?\n\n ARCHER\n I can't tell you... except only I\n can do it.\n\n EVE\n You want me to tell you it's okay\n to leave? Okay, go on! <u>Go</u", "pebble that got\n into her three-bean salad\n Somehow she and I had fun driving\n around looking for an all-night\n dentist...\n (a beat)\n And even though it must have hurt\n -- you still kissed me.\n\n Eve slowly puts the gun down, fighting off tears.\n\n EVE\n Christ, Jon! How could you put us\n in this position? Do you know --\n do you know what he did to me...?\n\n ARCHER\n Whatever happened,", "back. He\n kisses her -- not passionately, but nobly.\n\n ARCHER\n Thanks...\n\n She watches him as he walks off toward the truck.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME - DAY\n\n Dressed in staid black, Eve joins Castor at the limo.\n\n CASTOR\n Where's Jamie?\n\n EVE\n That's what I'd like to know. She\n stole fifty dollars from my purse\n and took", "know...\n (nuzzles him)\n Maybe because you've never needed\n my help.\n\n ARCHER\n Come on, you made that up, didn't\n you?\n\n EVE\n ... Maybe I did...\n (teasing)\n ... maybe I didn't...\n\n They kiss affectionately. Passion building, Eve runs her \n hands over his body -- until her fingers touch a round\n scar on his chest. Archer freezes -- mid-caress.\n\n", "finally out of our lives.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve...\n\n He starts to say the words. He wants, needs to share the\n truth with her. But he can't. Instead --\n\n ARCHER\n ... If I had to do something to\n find some closure... I should do\n it, shouldn't I?... No matter how\n crazy?\n\n EVE\n Oh, God -- you're going on\n assignment again...\n\n ARCHER\n One last time", " Eve rubs Castor's shoulder blade until he falls asleep. \n She gets up, closes the window, then goes into the\n bathroom.\n\n\n INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n Eve takes a breath, then produces a lancet from her\n pocket. She squeezes the lancet -- and a drop of blood\n splashes into a glass vial -- Castor's blood.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER HOME - NIGHT\n\n As Eve gets the key in her car door -- a hand", "the water has\n stopped. Eve steps in from the bathroom.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve...\n\n The look of horror on her face snaps him back to reality.\n She runs, but Archer grabs her. She struggles -- \n fighting and kicking him -- but somehow he keeps her \n mouth covered.\n\n ARCHER\n I'm not going to hurt you. Just\n don't scream, okay?\n (no response)\n Okay?\n\n Terrified -- she finally nods", "memorial service.\n\n ARCHER\n Victor... Tito... they both died\n thinking I killed them... And in a\n way... I did.\n\n EVE\n Jon -- you can't think about that\n now.\n\n Archer takes a breath -- and pulls himself together.\n\n ARCHER\n -- What happens after the memorial?\n\n EVE\n He's taking Jamie and me away.\n\n ARCHER\n And neither of you will be coming\n back. Where'", "grabs her.\n She stifles a scream -- then sees... the two COPS.\n\n COP\n Sorry, Dr. Archer. Where are you\n going at this hour?\n\n EVE\n There's been an emergency at the\n hospital.\n\n COP\n One of us will have to escort you.\n\n EVE\n Fine...\n (a beat)\n But please don't wake my\n husband... he's exhausted.\n\n\n EXT. HOSPITAL", "\n EVE\n I hope so, honey.\n\n JAMIE\n And you guys say <u>my</u> life is\n screwed up...\n\n In the swirl of dust, they watch the chopper fly away.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n Maybe days, maybe weeks later -- no way to tell. Eve is\n at the dining room table, catching up on medical reports.\n\n Sensing something, she looks up and sees a silhouette at\n the front", "listening. He sees\n Cop #2 sitting at the dining room table, cleaning his\n pistol. He slips upstairs -- toward the sound of\n RUNNING WATER.\n\n\n MASTER BEDROOM -- CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n Archer walks in and steps toward the bathroom -- passing \n the bed. He stops. On top of the rumpled covers: Eve's\n nightgown and a pair of Castor's black briefs.\n\n Overwhelmed, he sits down -- not noticing", "\n I don't know that. Maybe Jon's\n already dead.\n\n ARCHER\n What more proof do you need?\n\n EVE\n Tell me... tell me about the all-\n night dentist.\n\n As Archer speaks -- Eve searches his eyes for the truth.\n\n ARCHER\n ... I took a date out for chicken\n and ribs -- not knowing she was a\n vegetarian. When the night\n couldn't get worse, she broke\n her tooth on a", " Archer waits. He pinches his throat -- trying to \n dislodge the vocal implant. His voice scrambles into \n garbled static.\n\n ARCHER\n Hello, Eve -- I know this sounds\n crazy, but --\n (reverting back)\n Dammit.\n\n\n INT. HOSPITAL - ER - NIGHT\n\n EVE deftly stitches up a gash above little IRIS's (8)\n eye.\n\n EVE\n How" ], [ "Castor -- using Jamie as a shield -- backs out the gate\n to the garden. Archer follows -- cautiously.\n\n CASTOR\n Say goodbye to Daddy --\n\n Jamie whips out the switchblade -- sinks it into Castor's\n thigh and twists. She dives away. FIRING wildly, Castor\n staggers back through the gate.\n\n CASTOR (O.S.)\n You ungrateful delinquent!\n\n\n OUTSIDE GATE\n\n", "was siding with\n him? Did it?\n (she falls silent)\n You want to play with scummy organ\n grinders, you better be prepared.\n Do you have protection?\n\n JAMIE\n You mean like... condoms?\n\n CASTOR\n I mean like... <u>protection</u>.\n\n With a fluid motion, Castor expertly SNAPS open a well-\n oiled SWITCHBLADE and hands it to an astonished Jamie.\n\n J", "his pistol but Eve kicks him hard in the\n balls. He doubles over.\n\n Archer snatches away the MACHINE PISTOL. Staggered --\n Lunt is quickly riddled by Dietrich.\n\n Castor and Lars BLAZE at the now-scattering intruders --\n driving them back amid the shot's tools and drums.\n\n ARCHER\n Find Jamie!\n\n Eve crawls through the FUSILLADE toward the exit.\n\n\n EXT. MEMOR", "AMIE\n For me?\n\n CASTOR\n Next time -- slip it in low, then\n twist it -- so the wound doesn't\n close.\n\n She hugs him tight -- taking Castor by surprise. But he\n responds momentarily. About to pat her rump -- something\n makes him stop.\n\n CASTOR\n Go on, get out of here.\n\n Jamie kisses him and heads up stairs. After she's\n gone...\n\n CASTOR\n No", "it's all about\n you. Don't even ask me what\n happened.\n\n Archer looks to Eve for help. Eve shakes her head --\n nope.\n\n ARCHER\n Okay. What happened?\n\n JAMIE\n Like you'd ever fucking believe\n <u>me</u>!\n\n She bolts. In anticipation, Eve calmly opens the door as\n Jamie rushes out, then closes it behind her.\n\n EVE\n Well,", "trick, Jamie. I'm your\n father.\n\n Jamie swings the gun back and forth -- baffled.\n\n CASTOR\n Shoot him, Jamie.\n\n ARCHER\n Jamie...\n\n CASTOR\n Shoot him!\n\n Jamie FIRES. Archer reels -- as a slug grazes his\n shoulder. Castor snatches the PISTOL from Jamie's hand.\n\n CASTOR\n You dunce. No kid of mine would\n", "fast, he soaks his discarded T-shirt into a toppled\n flower vase -- then places it over Adam's face.\n Protecting him.\n\n He rushes to Sasha. Together, they barrel through the\n soft, paper wall and tear out an escape route.\n\n\n INT. KITCHEN\n\n FIRING out the window, Fitch is riddled from outside by\n an agent as he CRASHES through the WINDOW.\n\n Cindee slashes the agent with a cleaver. ", "ches his eye. He finds a floral\n notebook -- Eve's diary -- and pages through it. Then,\n he reads:\n\n CASTOR\n '... \"Date-night\" has been a\n typical failure... we haven't made\n love in almost two months...'\n What a loser ...\n\n Castor hears a voice. Glancing across the hall, he\n sees...\n\n\n GLIMPSES OF JAMIE\n\n As she walks back and forth in her room, talking on the\n", "his foot inside.\n\n JAMIE\n I'll call you back.\n (to Castor)\n You're not respecting my\n boundaries.\n\n CASTOR\n I'm coming in, Janie.\n\n Castor pushes menacingly into the room.\n\n JAMIE\n 'Janie'?\n\n Castor spots her correct name embroidered on a pillow. \n He gazes seductively -- unnerving Jamie as he steps \n toward her.", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "ING \n it. Somehow the kid finds his feet and stumbles behind \n the wheel. The Beemer lurches away.\n\n\n INT. HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n Castor enters to find Jamie, still shaken up.\n\n CASTOR\n What are you -- stupid?\n\n JAMIE\n That's just like you. Some guy\n tries to rape me -- and you side\n with <u>him</u>.\n\n CASTOR\n Did it look like I", "met him. His name is Adam...\n\n CASTOR\n I imagine I've got a dozen kids --\n so what?\n (cocks pistol)\n No more head games... First your\n wife dies. Then your daughter.\n Then you.\n\n Castor smiles as the DOOR CREAKS open.\n\n CASTOR\n Just one big happy family...\n\n But it's not Jamie and Lars. Three people emerge from\n the shadows, machine pistols poised.\n\n ", "boom --\n (patting his\n neck)\n Oh, never mind...\n\n The Janitor suddenly twitches, his eyes rolls up in his\n head. As he gasps his last -- Castor heaves him down a\n stairwell. Now we see the needle-thin custom stiletto in\n Castor's hand.\n\n Castor kicks the Janitor's mop and bucket down the stairs\n -- making everything look like an accident.\n\n\n INT. SAME BUILDING - MAIN FLO", "STOR\n You'll be seeing a lot of changes\n around here --\n (blows a perfect\n smoke ring)\n Daddy's a new man.\n\n Jamie stares, astonished, as Castor goes out.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - ARCHER'S CELL\n\n Fists bloody, voice hoarse, Archer pounds at the cell\n door. Exhausted, he finally stops -- staring at the face\n of his enemy in the mirrored door -- the enemy who now", " As Castor turns and staggers away -- he runs smack into a\n confused security agent.\n\n CASTOR\n Give me your weapon -- now!\n\n The agent hands over his UZI -- and Castor PLUGS him.\n\n\n BOATYARD\n\n Archer and Eve make sure Jamie's okay.\n\n JAMIE\n (to Archer)\n Who <u>are</u> you? Will someone please\n tell me what's going on?\n\n Archer r", "\n EVE\n I hope so, honey.\n\n JAMIE\n And you guys say <u>my</u> life is\n screwed up...\n\n In the swirl of dust, they watch the chopper fly away.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n Maybe days, maybe weeks later -- no way to tell. Eve is\n at the dining room table, catching up on medical reports.\n\n Sensing something, she looks up and sees a silhouette at\n the front", "says nothing.\n\n He simply takes Jamie's hand, intertwining his fingers in\n hers.\n\n The honor guard steps forward, shouldering their rifles,\n commencing their 21-GUN SALUTE as --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n steadies himself, re-aims the sniper rifle.\n\n He hears MOTION behind him. Someone's coming and fast...\n but this is his only chance. Off-balance, Archer\n squeezes --\n\n THFFFT! The", "yard \n where Jamie practices free throws. He watches her miss.\n\n CASTOR\n How about a game of horse?\n\n JAMIE\n Don't make me beat your butt\n again, Dad. It's harmful to my\n developing psyche.\n\n CASTOR\n Afraid you'll lose?\n\n Castor crisply sinks a free-throw. Jamie glares, takes\n the ball -- and tosses an air-ball.\n\n CASTOR\n 'H", "within GOES QUIET, but no one emerges.\n\n\n EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)\n\n Curious, Castor approaches the car, keeping a safe \n distance. He can see Jamie inside, struggling with Karl.\n\n JAMIE\n No... Karl, please.\n\n He \"shushes\" Jamie -- but doesn't stop pawing her.\n\n JAMIE\n My father -- he's got a gun --\n he'll -- he'll --", " phone -- and wearing only panties and a cropped T-shirt.\n Castor steps closer -- enjoying the view.\n\n CASTOR\n The plot thickens.\n\n\n INT. JAMIE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n Jamie stamps out her cigarette.\n\n JAMIE\n -- I got your E-mail, Karl. That\n poem was really sweet --\n (spots Castor\n at door)\n Hang on a sec...\n\n She slams it -- but he gets" ], [ "\n\n ARCHER\n Not a bad fit.\n\n SASHA\n They should. They're yours.\n\n ARCHER\n Nice-looking kid, too\n\n SASHA\n Of course he is...\n\n Sasha fidgets, struggling with a deep inner turmoil.\n Then...\n\n SASHA\n Adam, come here... I want you to\n meet your father.\n\n Archer's face pales over in shock.\n\n\n EXT.", "\n As the family heads inside, the door closes, shutting us\n out.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n\n INT. MATTHEW'S OLD ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Archer gives Adam an old teddy bear -- rocking the child\n until he finally drifts off into dreamland.\n\n\n INT. JAMIE'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Archer watches Jamie sleep. He draws the comforter over\n her -- she stirs, and pulls it in tighter", "her maternal warmth replaced\n by an icy hatred. Tito and the child are gone.\n\n ARCHER\n When was the last time you saw\n Castor Troy?\n\n SASHA\n Who cares? He's dead.\n\n ARCHER\n Answer the question.\n\n SASHA\n Look, I'm clean. I teach kids\n now --\n\n ARCHER\n Sasha -- you are a felon, on\n probation for harboring Cast", "GUNSHOT...\n\n Then Adam smiles -- perhaps the way Matthew once smiled.\n It pulls something up from inside Archer -- something \n strong. He regains control, dumping the child into \n Sasha's arms.\n\n ARCHER\n He's not my son.\n\n SASHA\n Yes, he is -- !\n\n Then something alerts Archer -- maybe the fleeting \n shadows that blot out the window-light for the barest \n second.\n\n ARCH", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", ".\n\n ARCHER\n I have something to ask you -- to\n ask both of you...\n\n He steps aside -- revealing Castor's son.\n\n ARCHER\n This is Adam. He needs a place to\n live... just for a little while.\n\n Eve looks at Archer -- she sees what this means to him\n and, what the hell, there's plenty of time now to talk.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n", "\n\n She stares at him with equal amounts of pity and hatred.\n\n SASHA\n I haven't seen him for years.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n Archer watches as Adam leaves Dietrich and jumps into \n Sasha's arms. She hugs him protectively. Adam sees\n Archer watching them -- and smiles. Archer doesn't smile\n back.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S REAL FACE\n\n PULL", " ARCHER\n Let him go, but I want him\n watched... Who's next?\n\n TITO\n Just Dietrich's sister...\n\n In another booth, a careworn but striking woman sits with\n a little boy on her lap. She gently helps him Crayola a\n book. This is SASHA HASSLER (30) and her son ADAM (5).\n\n\n INT. INTERROGATION BOOTH - DAY\n\n Archer hovers over Sasha --", " Jamie is there. Archer smiles -- gently, almost sadly --\n with a softness and genuineness that Castor Troy could\n never feel, could never fake.\n\n She rushes to him. The whole family hangs on, hugging\n and kissing -- for the first time ever, really together.\n\n JAMIE\n I'm sorry I shot you, Dad. Am I\n grounded?\n\n Archer smiles and holds her tighter. But as they draw\n Archer inside, he hesitates", ".\n\n Archer's face betrays his conflict. A child -- but his\n worst enemy's child.\n\n BULLETS SHRED the WALL around Adam. Getting closer.\n\n Archer moves -- he crawls toward Adam.\n\n Just then -- a SWAT agent rappels in through one of the\n shattered windows, his weapon poised. Archer kicks him\n hard, pitching him back through the window.\n\n Archer grabs Adam -- curling him into his body. Thinking\n ", "bed cluttered\n with clothes and assorted girl-stuff. Her face peaceful.\n\n Archer looks around her room... sees the stuffed animals \n collecting dust... replaced by makeup, jewelry, beefcake\n Calvin Klein ads and band posters, etc.\n\n Archer's startled to see a lacey bustier... his little \n girl is growing up fast. And he's missing it.\n\n He pulls the blanket up over her and quietly slips out.\n The instant he leaves, Jamie kicks the blank", "memorial service.\n\n ARCHER\n Victor... Tito... they both died\n thinking I killed them... And in a\n way... I did.\n\n EVE\n Jon -- you can't think about that\n now.\n\n Archer takes a breath -- and pulls himself together.\n\n ARCHER\n -- What happens after the memorial?\n\n EVE\n He's taking Jamie and me away.\n\n ARCHER\n And neither of you will be coming\n back. Where'", " She's going to be dead\n by tonight anyway. They're all\n going to be dead. The wife, the\n kid... and the father.\n\n\n EXT. OLD RANCH - HIGH GRASS - DAY\n\n Archer waits as Sasha appears with a long case. In the\n b.g., Adam plays on the Ranch House porch with Dietrich.\n\n ARCHER\n How's the boy?\n\n SASHA\n His ears are still ringing -- but", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", "toy aside and lifts Adam -- offering him to\n Archer. Awkwardly, Archer takes the boy.\n\n Archer's emotions avalanche as his grip tightens -- his\n big hands dwarfing the little boy's body.\n\n SASHA\n You're not holding him right...\n Caz...\n\n Archer isn't hearing Sasha. He's lost in his own\n memory... the sound of a CAROUSEL... a KID'S LAUGHTER...\n a", "reacts as she gets in the car and pulls out.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S HOUSE - DAY\n\n Castor steps inside, looks around.\n\n CASTOR\n What a dump.\n\n\n INT. STUDY - DAY\n\n Castor sifts through Christmas cards from holidays past,\n studying the ones with photos. He's memorizing -- \n matching names to faces -- Wanda's, Buzz's, Lazarro's, \n etc.\n\n Something else cat", "\n otherwise...\n\n The steel panels shut - silencing Archer's pleading\n voice.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CAR - MOVING - DAY\n\n Sipping a beer, Castor cruises past the suburban bliss:\n men on hammocks; women chatting; kids playing tag.\n\n CASTOR\n (sickened)\n Jesus, what a life.\n\n Castor tries to catch a street address and rolls past...\n\n\n ARCHER'S HOUSE", " made your life harder...\n\n SASHA\n How would you? You walked out and\n never looked back.\n\n ADAM enters, heading for his toys -- his presence cooling\n Sasha's deep-seated anger. Archer finishes dressing.\n\n ARCHER\n I'm not the same person you\n remember. And for what it's\n worth, I'm sorry...\n\n Her harsh look softens imperceptively -- like that of a\n woman trying to hate someone she still loves.", "back. He\n kisses her -- not passionately, but nobly.\n\n ARCHER\n Thanks...\n\n She watches him as he walks off toward the truck.\n\n\n EXT. ARCHER'S HOME - DAY\n\n Dressed in staid black, Eve joins Castor at the limo.\n\n CASTOR\n Where's Jamie?\n\n EVE\n That's what I'd like to know. She\n stole fifty dollars from my purse\n and took", "cher studies the image of his former self -- trying to\n understand. Then he recognizes the smirk on the face, \n the mocking twinkle in the eyes and he says what he \n cannot say...\n\n ARCHER\n -- Castor...?\n\n CASTOR\n Not anymore.\n\n ARCHER\n It can't be. It's impossible.\n\n CASTOR\n I believe the phrase Dr. Hoag used\n was 'titanically remote'. Who\n knows" ], [ "?\n (to Eve)\n Sorry, baby. Castor Troy is about\n to murder you and our daughter...\n but I promise you won't die\n unavenged.\n\n ARCHER\n This is between you and me. Leave\n them out of this.\n\n CASTOR\n It <u>was</u> between you and me. Even\n your little boy -- that wasn't\n supposed to happen. But you\n couldn't let it go.\n\n ", "\n\n FBI CHOPPER\n\n lands. Archer steps out calmly -- like a cop about to \n write a traffic ticket. He hurries to join more FBI \n agents rushing into the hangar ahead of him.\n\n\n INT. HANGAR - DAY\n\n The jet hatch pops open -- Castor leaps from it, FIRING.\n\n Two FBI agents drop -- riddled.\n\n Pollux appears at the hatch -- an FBI sharpshooter FIRES,\n grazing Pollux'", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", "and see Loomis's \n body.\n\n WANDA\n What happened?\n\n CASTOR\n What the fuck do you think\n happened? Castor Troy just\n shot him!\n (beat)\n What are you waiting for? Go!\n\n After Buzz and Wanda take off -- Castor gathers Pollux up \n in his arms -- totally devastated.\n\n\n INT. F.B.I - DAY\n\n Dazed, Castor approaches his office. ", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "belief. Then he sinks to the ground and lies\n still.\n\n Exhausted, Archer lets the empty gun drop. Then he turns\n and sees an FBI chopper heading his way. Relieved, he\n turns back to Castor, but -- Castor's body is gone!\n\n Castor is crawling toward the flipped boat's spinning\n stabilizing screw. Archer FIRES -- hitting Castor in the\n leg. He buckles... but keeps going.\n\n Archer leaps on him --", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "own forehead.\n\n TITO\n You want to be Castor Troy? If\n you hesitate for a <u>breath</u>, you're\n finished! Now -- shoot me! Kill\n me!\n\n Archer holds the gun unsteadily. Tito is disgusted.\n\n TITO\n You can't do it... because Castor\n is tougher than you...\n\n BOOM! The GUN goes off -- the slug tears past Tito's\n head", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "her maternal warmth replaced\n by an icy hatred. Tito and the child are gone.\n\n ARCHER\n When was the last time you saw\n Castor Troy?\n\n SASHA\n Who cares? He's dead.\n\n ARCHER\n Answer the question.\n\n SASHA\n Look, I'm clean. I teach kids\n now --\n\n ARCHER\n Sasha -- you are a felon, on\n probation for harboring Cast", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "Castor tries to strangle him -- Archer headbutts\n Castor, who reels -- snagging his leg around the chain.\n Castor falls back -- plunging toward the water.\n\n Archer tries to hold Castor up... as the boat speeds\n toward --\n\n\n PIER\n\n Archer yanks Castor back onto the deck as the BOAT\n BOUNCES OFF the pier pilings. But as they slug it out...\n\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n\n WHAM! The BO", " CASTOR\n Miller and Brodie --\n\n FLASH ON Brodie and Miller -- dead in a mangled car\n wreck.\n\n CASTOR\n I even paid a visit to your buddy\n Tito.\n\n ARCHER\n He doesn't know anything about\n this!\n\n CASTOR\n Come on, Jon. I think I know you\n better than that. I only wish you\n could have been there to see the\n look on his face --\n\n FLASH ON T", "Archer drives on -- listening to KFWB.\n\n RADIO REPORTER (V.O.)\n ... the escapee is considered\n extremely dangerous. If you have\n any information concerning the\n whereabouts of Castor Troy...\n\n He SHUTS it OFF as he sees in the distance:\n\n\n HIS OWN HOME\n\n FBI and LAPD vehicles are parked in front. No way he's\n getting near there.\n\n In his rearview mirror Archer spots a cop car\n ", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", " As Castor turns and staggers away -- he runs smack into a\n confused security agent.\n\n CASTOR\n Give me your weapon -- now!\n\n The agent hands over his UZI -- and Castor PLUGS him.\n\n\n BOATYARD\n\n Archer and Eve make sure Jamie's okay.\n\n JAMIE\n (to Archer)\n Who <u>are</u> you? Will someone please\n tell me what's going on?\n\n Archer r", "s shoulder. Staggered, Pollux falls --\n\n Castor catches him before he hits the floor --\n simultaneously BLASTING the sharpshooter.\n\n Castor drags Pollux back into the smoke-filled hangar.\n\n Archer arrives and quickly checks the dead agents, his\n anger building. He signals Tito and the others to spread\n out.\n\n\n DEEP IN HANGAR\n\n A maze of airplane debris and heavy machinery. Led by\n Archer, the FBI agents pick their way", "\n otherwise...\n\n The steel panels shut - silencing Archer's pleading\n voice.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CAR - MOVING - DAY\n\n Sipping a beer, Castor cruises past the suburban bliss:\n men on hammocks; women chatting; kids playing tag.\n\n CASTOR\n (sickened)\n Jesus, what a life.\n\n Castor tries to catch a street address and rolls past...\n\n\n ARCHER'S HOUSE", "keeping him alive?\n (gets no answer)\n As long as he's breathing, he's\n dangerous.\n\n MILLER\n Relax, he's a turnip.\n\n Miller grinds out her cigarette on Castor's leg. Of\n course, Castor just lies there like a vegetable.\n\n BRODIE\n We can arrange for you to enter\n Erewhon Prison -- as Castor Troy.\n\n ARCHER\n What are you talking about?" ], [ " CASTOR\n Miller and Brodie --\n\n FLASH ON Brodie and Miller -- dead in a mangled car\n wreck.\n\n CASTOR\n I even paid a visit to your buddy\n Tito.\n\n ARCHER\n He doesn't know anything about\n this!\n\n CASTOR\n Come on, Jon. I think I know you\n better than that. I only wish you\n could have been there to see the\n look on his face --\n\n FLASH ON T", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", ".D.\n Intelligence?\n\n BUZZ\n No, sir, nothing yet.\n\n ARCHER\n Get them on the phone -- now.\n What about S.I.S. and our airport\n teams?\n\n WANDA\n We've had everything from psychics\n to satellites on this. Even if\n Castor was here... he must have\n slipped the net by now...\n\n ARCHER\n He's here! And we're going to\n keep looking until", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "As the jet picks up speed... the hatch opens. Castor\n blasts Winters in the side and tosses her onto the\n tarmac.\n\n\n INSIDE\n\n Castor smiles at Pollux, sensing freedom, until...\n\n KA-CHUNK: Something POUNDS the jet -- from above.\n Castor leans out the hatch and sees...\n\n The chopper on top of them -- Archer at the controls.\n\n Eye-contact -- years of hatred pass between these men.\n\n Cast", "\n\n FBI CHOPPER\n\n lands. Archer steps out calmly -- like a cop about to \n write a traffic ticket. He hurries to join more FBI \n agents rushing into the hangar ahead of him.\n\n\n INT. HANGAR - DAY\n\n The jet hatch pops open -- Castor leaps from it, FIRING.\n\n Two FBI agents drop -- riddled.\n\n Pollux appears at the hatch -- an FBI sharpshooter FIRES,\n grazing Pollux'", "cher studies the image of his former self -- trying to\n understand. Then he recognizes the smirk on the face, \n the mocking twinkle in the eyes and he says what he \n cannot say...\n\n ARCHER\n -- Castor...?\n\n CASTOR\n Not anymore.\n\n ARCHER\n It can't be. It's impossible.\n\n CASTOR\n I believe the phrase Dr. Hoag used\n was 'titanically remote'. Who\n knows", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his", "bomb is Castor himself. And\n dead men can't talk.\n\n Brodie and Miller exchange a knowing look.\n\n BRODIE\n There might be a way around\n that...\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S BODY\n\n Tubes and hoses are plugged into every orifice.\n\n\n INT. ICU ROOM - DAY\n\n Archer stares at the body... he can't believe it.\n\n ARCHER\n Why are you", "\n otherwise...\n\n The steel panels shut - silencing Archer's pleading\n voice.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S CAR - MOVING - DAY\n\n Sipping a beer, Castor cruises past the suburban bliss:\n men on hammocks; women chatting; kids playing tag.\n\n CASTOR\n (sickened)\n Jesus, what a life.\n\n Castor tries to catch a street address and rolls past...\n\n\n ARCHER'S HOUSE", ".\n\n BRODIE\n Didn't Castor give any clue where\n the bomb might be?\n\n ARCHER\n Only one person knows -- his\n brother Pollux. And he'll keep\n his mouth shut until it blows.\n\n BRODIE\n We could plant an agent in his\n cell -- get him to spill the\n location.\n\n ARCHER\n Pollux is way too paranoid. The\n only person he'd talk to about\n that", "\n\n She stares at him with equal amounts of pity and hatred.\n\n SASHA\n I haven't seen him for years.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n Archer watches as Adam leaves Dietrich and jumps into \n Sasha's arms. She hugs him protectively. Adam sees\n Archer watching them -- and smiles. Archer doesn't smile\n back.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S REAL FACE\n\n PULL", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "ito... he smiles, then recoils in shock as\n Castor lifts a pistol and shoots him... then he picks up\n Archer's wedding band off the counter...\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON (PRESENT)\n\n Archer stares -- thunderstruck -- at the wedding band now\n on Castor's finger.\n\n CASTOR\n -- then again, I guess you were\n there.\n (a beat)\n I torched every shred of evidence\n that proves who", " WANDA\n If that bomb is out there -- we're\n almost out of time.\n\n LAZARRO (O.S.)\n Archer!\n\n Lazarro stomps toward them... furious. Buzz and Wanda\n quickly excuse themselves.\n\n LAZARRO\n You made a deal with <u>Pollux Troy</u>?\n He's 'a manipulative psychopath.'\n Your own words, Jon!\n\n CASTOR\n Just let me do my", "hatred.\n\n Fury rising, he crumples the frame -- and the photo -- in\n his clenching grip. He hurls it into other Archer family\n memorabilia -- shattering more photos and souvenirs.\n\n Only then does Castor notice Lazarro standing in the\n doorway. For how long -- he can't be sure.\n\n CASTOR\n What is it?\n\n Lazarro shuts the door behind him.\n\n LAZARRO\n We were friends once, Jon,", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M" ], [ " WANDA\n If that bomb is out there -- we're\n almost out of time.\n\n LAZARRO (O.S.)\n Archer!\n\n Lazarro stomps toward them... furious. Buzz and Wanda\n quickly excuse themselves.\n\n LAZARRO\n You made a deal with <u>Pollux Troy</u>?\n He's 'a manipulative psychopath.'\n Your own words, Jon!\n\n CASTOR\n Just let me do my", "Pollux seems to have his\n frustrated interrogators on the run.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Archer, Lazarro, Tito, Brodie, Miller and other FBI\n officials watch the monitor. Pollux remains implacable\n\n POLLUX (V.O.)\n (on screen)\n That bomb was just a crossword\n puzzle to me... a mental exercise.\n I never built it...\n\n Lazarro shuts down the monitor... turns to Archer.", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", ".\n\n BRODIE\n Didn't Castor give any clue where\n the bomb might be?\n\n ARCHER\n Only one person knows -- his\n brother Pollux. And he'll keep\n his mouth shut until it blows.\n\n BRODIE\n We could plant an agent in his\n cell -- get him to spill the\n location.\n\n ARCHER\n Pollux is way too paranoid. The\n only person he'd talk to about\n that", "ola.\n\n POLLUX\n You tricked me into telling you\n things I never told anyone...\n\n Archer hears movement above him as Pollux reaches the\n crown.\n\n POLLUX\n Now take it to your grave.\n\n Archer FIRES his PISTOL -- into the glass cupola -- and\n SHATTERS the GLASS beneath Pollux's feet. The cupola\n disintegrates beneath his weight. He plunges down\n into --\n\n\n ROTUN", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", " through a tunnel which leads to an adjoining hangar.\n\n Suddenly Wanda presses her machine-pistol into Pollux's\n head. As Pollux raises his gun -- Tito grabs his hand.\n\n TITO\n -- not unless you want that 200\n I.Q. splattered all over the\n floor.\n (as Archer\n approaches)\n We got him now, Jon.\n\n ARCHER\n That's what you always say. Seal\n", "\n\n ARCHER\n He's lying.\n\n LAZARRO\n He's hooked up to a full-spectrum\n polygraph.\n\n ARCHER\n Pollux is a manipulative\n psychopath. He can control his\n heartbeat, his sweat glands, his\n blood pressure...\n\n LAZARRO\n Jon, I trust your instincts, I\n always have. But D.C. wants more\n evidence. And frankly, so do I.\n", "t follow through the flames.\n\n\n EXT. ROOF - NIGHT\n\n Archer slams out of the interior stairwell -- but BULLETS\n force him to take cover behind the cupola.\n\n Pollux FIRES at him from the other side.\n\n Archer RETURNS FIRE -- driving Pollux back. Stand-off.\n\n POLLUX\n Remember me? Your 'baby brother'?\n\n Trying to get the drop, Pollux carefully crawls onto the\n top of the cup", " ARCHER\n Porcelain casing... Thermal\n cloak... Undetectable payload.\n\n MILLER\n Powerful enough to flatten ten\n city blocks.\n\n ARCHER\n 'Worse than anything God ever\n dumped on the Pharaohs.'\n (to Tito)\n Get Pollux Troy. Now.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n\n INTERROGATION FOOTAGE\n\n Wired to a complex machine --", "he claims, I'll get Pollux to\n talk.\n\n Archer reaches for the door -- Tito stops him.\n\n TITO\n It's not that simple, Jon...\n Becoming another person --\n especially <u>him</u> -- nobody can come\n all the way back from that... not\n even you.\n\n Archer considers his friend's words... He toys with, then\n removes, his wedding bang.\n\n ARCHER\n Keep this for me.\n\n As", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", "\n\n Archer sees guards charging the room. He tries closing\n the door -- but the guards arrive. Dubov lumbers over\n and puts his massive weight into it -- and slams the door\n shut.\n\n O.S., guards POUND at the now-locked door.\n\n Archer quickly frisks Walton -- coming up with a\n cigarette lighter. he pockets it.\n\n Scanning around -- Archer leaps onto a mounted, hinged\n lamp. it swings against the wall. Archer uses it", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "O\n A jet was chartered at Anderson\n Airfield. Guess who just showed\n up to pay for it? Pollux Troy.\n\n ARCHER\n Scramble the Reaction Team --\n we're moving out. And get one of\n our people on that plane.\n\n TITO\n But there's still no sign of\n Castor...\n\n ARCHER\n Where one brother goes, the\n other's sure to follow...\n\n They rush our... the hold", "cher -- in need of comfort. Archer\n puts an affectionate arm around Pollux -- springing the\n trap.\n\n ARCHER\n Screw the past. We've got the\n future to look forward to.\n (a beat)\n We still have tomorrow.\n\n POLLUX\n No shit... five million bucks...\n now those Red Militia crackpots\n get to keep it.\n\n ARCHER\n That's not the worst part.\n\n P", "her\n mouth to mouth -- man -- even then\n you had some constitution.\n (a beat)\n Remember what you swore to me at\n the funeral?\n\n ARCHER\n Uh -- to kill the doctors?\n\n POLLUX\n After that. You promised you'd\n always take care of me.\n\n ARCHER\n And I bet I kept that promise...\n\n POLLUX\n Only one you've never broken.\n\n Pollux curls into Ar", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "see Tito's worried, too.\n\n\n BACK INSIDE BOOTH\n\n Archer has a terrified Dietrich backed into the corner.\n\n DIETRICH\n ... Okay! Castor called me but I\n blew him off... I swear I never\n saw him. And I don't know\n anything about any bomb!\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - OUTSIDE INTERROGATION BOOTHS - SAME TIME\n\n Archer emerges... eyes blazing.\n\n", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his" ], [ "Castor's head is swathed in gauze. But his eyes pop \n open.\n\n Reflexively, Castor wrenches from the bed -- tearing out \n the tubes and wires that tether him to life support. He \n goes down -- in agony -- groaning.\n\n He struggles to his feet -- staggering through the lab --\n until he catches the reflection of his bandaged face in\n the window. He quickly unwraps the gauze.\n\n The discarded bandages fall at", "the same procedure on Castor.\n\n Castor's consistent EEG reading suddenly spikes\n radically -- for a moment, it almost seems to stabilize.\n Hoag glances over -- too late -- the spikes have \n disappeared.\n\n But the CAMERA CLOSES IN ON Castor's ear -- and we sense\n that, somehow, his auditory nerves might be functioning.\n\n DISSOLVE TO:\n\n\n INT. RECOVERY ROOM - DAY\n\n A head sw", "ry night. Van Gogh's night. The night \n he cut off his ear, anyway.\n\n\n INT. SURGICAL BAY - NIGHT\n\n Castor's body lies inert. His life-support MACHINES\n BLIPPING away. Until the EEG spikes. Once -- twice -- \n three times. Brain wave activity increases -- and \n stabilizes.\n\n Castor's fingers twitch. Then his fist clenches -- hard. \n ", "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", "and see Loomis's \n body.\n\n WANDA\n What happened?\n\n CASTOR\n What the fuck do you think\n happened? Castor Troy just\n shot him!\n (beat)\n What are you waiting for? Go!\n\n After Buzz and Wanda take off -- Castor gathers Pollux up \n in his arms -- totally devastated.\n\n\n INT. F.B.I - DAY\n\n Dazed, Castor approaches his office. ", "whatever he did\n -- I know it's my fault and I know\n I can never make it up to you --\n\n She pulls herself together -- regaining her composure.\n\n EVE\n But you're damn well going to try.\n (a beat)\n First -- how are we going to get\n you out of this?\n\n\n INT. ARCHER HOME - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Castor wakes up and finds Eve gone. His eyes narrow as\n he touches the mos", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "his feet... we don't see\n what CASTOR sees -- but we hear him MOAN... then CHOKE...\n then SCREAM -- the only moment Castor ever loses his\n cool.\n\n Finally composing himself -- Castor's hand grips the\n phone and he dials.\n\n CASTOR\n Lars... okay, <u>Lunt</u>, then.\n (rifling desk\n documents)\n Something really fucked-up\n happened... I'm in trouble... so\n listen", "'s inert\n body is beside him.\n\n EVE\n Hang on, Jon... they're bringing\n in their top surgical team from\n D.C...\n\n ARCHER\n (re: Castor)\n How is he?\n\n EVE\n No life signs at all. He's a\n turnip.\n\n ARCHER\n That's what they always say...\n\n He passes out as the FBI medics load him onto the med-\n evac", "DA\n\n Castor watches in horror as Pollux pancakes onto the\n floor at his feet.\n\n CASTOR\n Pollux...\n\n Pollux is almost gone. Castor looks up and sees --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Peering down into the rotunda.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n OPENS FIRE --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Ducks the bullets as he disappears.\n\n Castor desperately holds Pollux -- to no avail. Pollux\n slips", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "through it.\n\n ROOKIE LOOMIS snaps alert -- did he see something?\n Advancing carefully, he comes up on...\n\n Castor -- staunching Pollux's shoulder wound. Pollux\n sees the agent -- and FIRES.\n\n Loomis hits the floor -- his bleeding ear is shredded.\n\n Suddenly a forklift charges down on Castor and Pollux.\n\n Tito is at the wheel. Castor FIRES -- forcing Tito to\n dive off. The forklift careens", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "bomb is Castor himself. And\n dead men can't talk.\n\n Brodie and Miller exchange a knowing look.\n\n BRODIE\n There might be a way around\n that...\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S BODY\n\n Tubes and hoses are plugged into every orifice.\n\n\n INT. ICU ROOM - DAY\n\n Archer stares at the body... he can't believe it.\n\n ARCHER\n Why are you", "\n Then he spots her medical bag. Oops.\n\n EVE\n Don't try to charm me -- I'm still\n angry. There're leftovers in the\n fridge.\n\n CASTOR\n Have fun at work.\n\n Castor kisses her good-bye -- on the mouth.\n\n EVE\n What is with you?\n\n CASTOR\n Don't I usually kiss my wife?\n\n EVE\n No.\n\n Castor", "ches his eye. He finds a floral\n notebook -- Eve's diary -- and pages through it. Then,\n he reads:\n\n CASTOR\n '... \"Date-night\" has been a\n typical failure... we haven't made\n love in almost two months...'\n What a loser ...\n\n Castor hears a voice. Glancing across the hall, he\n sees...\n\n\n GLIMPSES OF JAMIE\n\n As she walks back and forth in her room, talking on the\n", "T. DRIVEWAY - DAY\n\n Heading for the car, Castor is about to light up when --\n\n EVE\n Last night, I thought -- this\n isn't my husband.\n\n He pockets the smoke. Eve is there, dressed somberly.\n\n EVE\n Then I woke up in the middle of\n the night -- and found you passed\n out in the study.\n\n CASTOR\n I couldn't sleep -- you roll\n around a <u>lot</u>.\n", "? Maybe the trauma of having\n my face cut off pulled me out. Or\n maybe God really is on <u>my</u> side\n after all.\n (starts pacing)\n By the way, I know you don't get\n the papers in here.\n\n Continuing to circle, he displays the current <u>LA Times</u>:\n\n \"INFERNO AT HOAG INSTITUTE -- Malcolm Hoag Dead\"\n\n CASTOR\n Terrible tragedy.\n Hoag was such", ".B.I. surgeon gave me Castor's\n face. He handled the transplant,\n the vocal implant, everything.\n But somehow Castor came out of his\n coma -- and killed everyone who\n knew about the mission. But not\n before he was transformed into me.\n\n The back DOOR CLICKS open. A voice booms out.\n\n COP (O.S.)\n Dr. Archer, are you okay?\n\n ARCHER\n If you need hard evidence, get it", "away... and dies. He turns to Loomis...\n\n CASTOR\n Get a medic -- now!\n\n LOOMIS\n Forget him, sir. It's only Pollux\n Troy...\n\n Castor snaps. Without hesitation, he jerks up his GUN\n and PUTS a BULLET right in the middle of Loomis's\n forehead.\n\n Castor looks at the dead kid -- his rage barely abated\n as -- Buzz and Wanda arrive on the scene" ], [ "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", "STOR\n You'll be seeing a lot of changes\n around here --\n (blows a perfect\n smoke ring)\n Daddy's a new man.\n\n Jamie stares, astonished, as Castor goes out.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - ARCHER'S CELL\n\n Fists bloody, voice hoarse, Archer pounds at the cell\n door. Exhausted, he finally stops -- staring at the face\n of his enemy in the mirrored door -- the enemy who now", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "ito... he smiles, then recoils in shock as\n Castor lifts a pistol and shoots him... then he picks up\n Archer's wedding band off the counter...\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON (PRESENT)\n\n Archer stares -- thunderstruck -- at the wedding band now\n on Castor's finger.\n\n CASTOR\n -- then again, I guess you were\n there.\n (a beat)\n I torched every shred of evidence\n that proves who", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "-- unable to reach\n Castor. Castor opens the door and guards rush in --\n clubbing Archer and shocking him senseless.\n\n WALTON\n Sorry, sir.\n\n CASTOR\n It's quite all right. You never\n know what to expect from a\n psychopathic criminal...\n\n\n INT. CELL BLOCK - DAY\n\n The guards dump Archer into his cell.\n\n WALTON\n Better be nice, Castor. You could\n get might", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "your help.\n\n ALDO\n Archer's a damn celebrity now --\n he's untouchable -- and you're\n radioactive.\n\n He turns to leave. Archer wheels him around and smashes\n him into the wall. Aldo goes for his gun, but Archer's\n too quick -- he strips him of it.\n\n The four bodyguards draw their weapons -- and surround\n Archer.\n\n ARCHER\n You wanna face-off with <u>Castor</", "What're you gonna do with me\n locked up? You'll drive your wife\n and kid nuts! I bet your daughter\n is just about ripe by now. What's\n her name, Janie?\n\n Enraged, Archer steps boldly forward -- trying to draw\n his enemy out. Silence -- then Archer senses...\n\n Castor is behind him. He FIRES -- Archer dives away.\n The BARRAGE CONTINUES -- driving Archer back between two\n huge turbine", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his", "Castor tries to strangle him -- Archer headbutts\n Castor, who reels -- snagging his leg around the chain.\n Castor falls back -- plunging toward the water.\n\n Archer tries to hold Castor up... as the boat speeds\n toward --\n\n\n PIER\n\n Archer yanks Castor back onto the deck as the BOAT\n BOUNCES OFF the pier pilings. But as they slug it out...\n\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n\n WHAM! The BO", "ol case.\n\n ARCHER\n What did he do?\n\n VOISINE\n He hit a guard.\n\n Archer sees Walton hovering nearby. Archer heads for\n him.\n\n WALTON\n Looking for trouble, Castor?\n\n ARCHER\n As a matter of fact -- yes.\n\n Crack! Archer decks Walton.\n\n\n INT. PRISON - POPULATION - NIGHT\n\n Walton and a guard herd Ar", " CASTOR\n Miller and Brodie --\n\n FLASH ON Brodie and Miller -- dead in a mangled car\n wreck.\n\n CASTOR\n I even paid a visit to your buddy\n Tito.\n\n ARCHER\n He doesn't know anything about\n this!\n\n CASTOR\n Come on, Jon. I think I know you\n better than that. I only wish you\n could have been there to see the\n look on his face --\n\n FLASH ON T", "belief. Then he sinks to the ground and lies\n still.\n\n Exhausted, Archer lets the empty gun drop. Then he turns\n and sees an FBI chopper heading his way. Relieved, he\n turns back to Castor, but -- Castor's body is gone!\n\n Castor is crawling toward the flipped boat's spinning\n stabilizing screw. Archer FIRES -- hitting Castor in the\n leg. He buckles... but keeps going.\n\n Archer leaps on him --" ], [ "few repetitions, Archer's voice matches\n perfectly.\n\n Archer yawns, squints and furrows his brow -- testing \n every muscle. He stares into the mirror -- into the eyes\n of his most hated enemy -- now his eyes. Archer slowly \n turns to...\n\n Castor. Motionless, swathed, dead to the world -- but\n something about Castor's smile -- that mocking smile...\n\n ARCHER\n Now what?\n\n TITO\n", ". The CLOSE UP on his leg becomes a FULL\n SHOT as he walks across the rooftop -- like himself.\n Tito demonstrated the proper \"Castor gait\": dangerously\n casual, like a panther.\n\n Hoag reproduces Castor's fingerprints... then layers them\n over Archer's fingers.\n\n Archer practices Castor's icy, killer glare. Tito hands\n him a lit cigarette. Archer brings the cigarette to his\n lips -- then coughs harshly. But", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "cher studies the image of his former self -- trying to\n understand. Then he recognizes the smirk on the face, \n the mocking twinkle in the eyes and he says what he \n cannot say...\n\n ARCHER\n -- Castor...?\n\n CASTOR\n Not anymore.\n\n ARCHER\n It can't be. It's impossible.\n\n CASTOR\n I believe the phrase Dr. Hoag used\n was 'titanically remote'. Who\n knows", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", ".\n\n\n INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Eve gets undressed... waiting for Archer.\n\n EVE\n How was your first day back?\n\n No reply... Eve hears WATER RUNNING. She approaches\n Archer, who's bent over the sink, washing his face.\n\n EVE\n Jon?\n\n Archer stands up -- revealing Castor's face in the\n bathroom mirror. Eve chokes back a scream.\n\n Archer turns and faces her", ".\n\n BRODIE\n You know Castor better than\n anyone. You've lived and breathed\n him for years -- hell, you even\n look a little like him.\n\n Archer shoves the template back at Hoag.\n\n ARCHER\n Find yourself another lab-rat.\n\n MILLER\n If you don't do this -- Castor\n will beat us again. He'll beat\n <u>you</u> again...\n\n Archer pushes his way", ". Then he struts\n toward his office -- pausing only to give Kim a playful\n swat on the rump. She's stunned.\n\n\n INT. ARCHER'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Castor surveys his new domain. He settles into Archer's\n big leather chair... sees a framed photo of Archer and\n family. He apes Archer's dumb posed smile...\n\n CASTOR\n Jon, your career is finally taking\n of.\n (", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his", "own forehead.\n\n TITO\n You want to be Castor Troy? If\n you hesitate for a <u>breath</u>, you're\n finished! Now -- shoot me! Kill\n me!\n\n Archer holds the gun unsteadily. Tito is disgusted.\n\n TITO\n You can't do it... because Castor\n is tougher than you...\n\n BOOM! The GUN goes off -- the slug tears past Tito's\n head", "DA\n\n Castor watches in horror as Pollux pancakes onto the\n floor at his feet.\n\n CASTOR\n Pollux...\n\n Pollux is almost gone. Castor looks up and sees --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Peering down into the rotunda.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n OPENS FIRE --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Ducks the bullets as he disappears.\n\n Castor desperately holds Pollux -- to no avail. Pollux\n slips", "\n has total command of his life.\n\n\n INT. FBI - LOBBY CHECKPOINT - DAY\n\n Castor dons his stern \"Archer\" face as the gate guard\n checks his thumbprint ID. He's cleared and waved in.\n\n\n INT. FBI INTERROGATION BOOTH - DAY\n\n Buzz and Wanda watch Pollux through the two-way mirror.\n He's gorging himself on a big lunch. Castor arrives.\n\n BUZZ\n Listen, sir... we", "Do it.\n\n\n TRANSFORMATION MONTAGE\n\n (INTERCUT huge video screen enlargements of Archer and\n Castor's body parts as necessary):\n\n Globules of adipose tissue are siphoned off Archer's \n obliques. At the same time...\n\n Hoag recreates the \"Great Sphinx\" tattoo on Archer's\n thigh. We PUSH IN ON his leg, then PULL BACK to\n reveal...\n\n Archer and Tito" ], [ "\n Castor's dead!\n\n CASTOR\n He's -- what?\n\n BUZZ\n Somehow he escaped from Erewhon.\n But a prison chopper mowed him\n down just off Long Beach Harbor...\n\n CASTOR\n Where's the body?\n\n WANDA\n It hasn't been recovered yet.\n\n CASTOR\n 'It hasn't been recovered yet!'\n You people have no idea who you're\n dealing with!\n ", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "As the jet picks up speed... the hatch opens. Castor\n blasts Winters in the side and tosses her onto the\n tarmac.\n\n\n INSIDE\n\n Castor smiles at Pollux, sensing freedom, until...\n\n KA-CHUNK: Something POUNDS the jet -- from above.\n Castor leans out the hatch and sees...\n\n The chopper on top of them -- Archer at the controls.\n\n Eye-contact -- years of hatred pass between these men.\n\n Cast", "keeping him alive?\n (gets no answer)\n As long as he's breathing, he's\n dangerous.\n\n MILLER\n Relax, he's a turnip.\n\n Miller grinds out her cigarette on Castor's leg. Of\n course, Castor just lies there like a vegetable.\n\n BRODIE\n We can arrange for you to enter\n Erewhon Prison -- as Castor Troy.\n\n ARCHER\n What are you talking about?", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "STOR\n You'll be seeing a lot of changes\n around here --\n (blows a perfect\n smoke ring)\n Daddy's a new man.\n\n Jamie stares, astonished, as Castor goes out.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - ARCHER'S CELL\n\n Fists bloody, voice hoarse, Archer pounds at the cell\n door. Exhausted, he finally stops -- staring at the face\n of his enemy in the mirrored door -- the enemy who now", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", "ito... he smiles, then recoils in shock as\n Castor lifts a pistol and shoots him... then he picks up\n Archer's wedding band off the counter...\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON (PRESENT)\n\n Archer stares -- thunderstruck -- at the wedding band now\n on Castor's finger.\n\n CASTOR\n -- then again, I guess you were\n there.\n (a beat)\n I torched every shred of evidence\n that proves who", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "ushes to the gate and hauls it open.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n limps away from the boatyard, towards the slips -- alive\n with sunbathers and yachters.\n\n\n EXT. MARINA DOCKS - DAY\n\n Castor hustles along until he finds what he's looking\n for --\n\n Twin Cigarette BOATS -- racing boats -- being TUNED UP by\n their suntanned crews. He jumps into one of the boats.\n\n BO", "Castor -- using Jamie as a shield -- backs out the gate\n to the garden. Archer follows -- cautiously.\n\n CASTOR\n Say goodbye to Daddy --\n\n Jamie whips out the switchblade -- sinks it into Castor's\n thigh and twists. She dives away. FIRING wildly, Castor\n staggers back through the gate.\n\n CASTOR (O.S.)\n You ungrateful delinquent!\n\n\n OUTSIDE GATE\n\n", "Castor BLAST at EACH OTHER\n at point-blank range. Their boats smash and pound each\n other.\n\n A police boat closes in on them.\n\n Castor FIRES at the police -- obliterating both crew and\n boat. The POLICE BOAT'S rear SMASHES into Archer's\n craft.\n\n Archer's BOAT plows up and through the other. EXPLOSION!\n Momentum carries Archer across -- and back into the\n water.\n\n", "Castor tries to strangle him -- Archer headbutts\n Castor, who reels -- snagging his leg around the chain.\n Castor falls back -- plunging toward the water.\n\n Archer tries to hold Castor up... as the boat speeds\n toward --\n\n\n PIER\n\n Archer yanks Castor back onto the deck as the BOAT\n BOUNCES OFF the pier pilings. But as they slug it out...\n\n\n ANOTHER ANGLE\n\n WHAM! The BO", "whatever he did\n -- I know it's my fault and I know\n I can never make it up to you --\n\n She pulls herself together -- regaining her composure.\n\n EVE\n But you're damn well going to try.\n (a beat)\n First -- how are we going to get\n you out of this?\n\n\n INT. ARCHER HOME - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Castor wakes up and finds Eve gone. His eyes narrow as\n he touches the mos", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M", " The boat lands right next to Castor's.\n\n Archer and Castor resume their battering... approaching\n a --\n\n\n TUG\n\n pulling a barge.\n\n Castor forces Archer into its path. At the last\n moment...\n\n Archer leaps onto the bow of Castor's boat as --\n\n KA-BOOM! Archer's boat crashes into the BARGE which\n EXPLODES.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n swerves wildly --", "-- unable to reach\n Castor. Castor opens the door and guards rush in --\n clubbing Archer and shocking him senseless.\n\n WALTON\n Sorry, sir.\n\n CASTOR\n It's quite all right. You never\n know what to expect from a\n psychopathic criminal...\n\n\n INT. CELL BLOCK - DAY\n\n The guards dump Archer into his cell.\n\n WALTON\n Better be nice, Castor. You could\n get might", "belief. Then he sinks to the ground and lies\n still.\n\n Exhausted, Archer lets the empty gun drop. Then he turns\n and sees an FBI chopper heading his way. Relieved, he\n turns back to Castor, but -- Castor's body is gone!\n\n Castor is crawling toward the flipped boat's spinning\n stabilizing screw. Archer FIRES -- hitting Castor in the\n leg. He buckles... but keeps going.\n\n Archer leaps on him --", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n " ], [ "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", " CASTOR\n Miller and Brodie --\n\n FLASH ON Brodie and Miller -- dead in a mangled car\n wreck.\n\n CASTOR\n I even paid a visit to your buddy\n Tito.\n\n ARCHER\n He doesn't know anything about\n this!\n\n CASTOR\n Come on, Jon. I think I know you\n better than that. I only wish you\n could have been there to see the\n look on his face --\n\n FLASH ON T", "cher studies the image of his former self -- trying to\n understand. Then he recognizes the smirk on the face, \n the mocking twinkle in the eyes and he says what he \n cannot say...\n\n ARCHER\n -- Castor...?\n\n CASTOR\n Not anymore.\n\n ARCHER\n It can't be. It's impossible.\n\n CASTOR\n I believe the phrase Dr. Hoag used\n was 'titanically remote'. Who\n knows", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "Castor.\" Two armed agents leap from the chopper and \n take charge of \"Castor.\" He follows them pliantly,\n until --\n\n TITO\n Watch this hard-case -- he'll bite\n your nuts off if he gets the\n chance!\n\n Archer gets the message. He starts to resist the agents \n and must be muscled into the chopper. He's manacled \n down.\n\n Eye contact between Archer and Tito -- both aware of this \n ", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "DA\n\n Castor watches in horror as Pollux pancakes onto the\n floor at his feet.\n\n CASTOR\n Pollux...\n\n Pollux is almost gone. Castor looks up and sees --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Peering down into the rotunda.\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n OPENS FIRE --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n Ducks the bullets as he disappears.\n\n Castor desperately holds Pollux -- to no avail. Pollux\n slips", "\n\n She stares at him with equal amounts of pity and hatred.\n\n SASHA\n I haven't seen him for years.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n Archer watches as Adam leaves Dietrich and jumps into \n Sasha's arms. She hugs him protectively. Adam sees\n Archer watching them -- and smiles. Archer doesn't smile\n back.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S REAL FACE\n\n PULL", "your help.\n\n ALDO\n Archer's a damn celebrity now --\n he's untouchable -- and you're\n radioactive.\n\n He turns to leave. Archer wheels him around and smashes\n him into the wall. Aldo goes for his gun, but Archer's\n too quick -- he strips him of it.\n\n The four bodyguards draw their weapons -- and surround\n Archer.\n\n ARCHER\n You wanna face-off with <u>Castor</", " WANDA\n If that bomb is out there -- we're\n almost out of time.\n\n LAZARRO (O.S.)\n Archer!\n\n Lazarro stomps toward them... furious. Buzz and Wanda\n quickly excuse themselves.\n\n LAZARRO\n You made a deal with <u>Pollux Troy</u>?\n He's 'a manipulative psychopath.'\n Your own words, Jon!\n\n CASTOR\n Just let me do my", "As the jet picks up speed... the hatch opens. Castor\n blasts Winters in the side and tosses her onto the\n tarmac.\n\n\n INSIDE\n\n Castor smiles at Pollux, sensing freedom, until...\n\n KA-CHUNK: Something POUNDS the jet -- from above.\n Castor leans out the hatch and sees...\n\n The chopper on top of them -- Archer at the controls.\n\n Eye-contact -- years of hatred pass between these men.\n\n Cast", "What're you gonna do with me\n locked up? You'll drive your wife\n and kid nuts! I bet your daughter\n is just about ripe by now. What's\n her name, Janie?\n\n Enraged, Archer steps boldly forward -- trying to draw\n his enemy out. Silence -- then Archer senses...\n\n Castor is behind him. He FIRES -- Archer dives away.\n The BARRAGE CONTINUES -- driving Archer back between two\n huge turbine", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", ".\n\n\n INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Eve gets undressed... waiting for Archer.\n\n EVE\n How was your first day back?\n\n No reply... Eve hears WATER RUNNING. She approaches\n Archer, who's bent over the sink, washing his face.\n\n EVE\n Jon?\n\n Archer stands up -- revealing Castor's face in the\n bathroom mirror. Eve chokes back a scream.\n\n Archer turns and faces her", " it off. I'm going in.\n\n Archer moves away from the group and enters the tunnel.\n\n MUSIC as Archer and Castor begin their cat-and-mouse\n dance.\n\n Sensing Archer, Castor pauses by an old landing gear. He\n draws a fresh pistol from his ankle holster and moves on.\n\n Archer pauses at the landing gear... his own stealthy\n movements mirroring Castor's.\n\n Castor waits behind a stack of steel drums... his", "STOR\n You'll be seeing a lot of changes\n around here --\n (blows a perfect\n smoke ring)\n Daddy's a new man.\n\n Jamie stares, astonished, as Castor goes out.\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON - ARCHER'S CELL\n\n Fists bloody, voice hoarse, Archer pounds at the cell\n door. Exhausted, he finally stops -- staring at the face\n of his enemy in the mirrored door -- the enemy who now", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "\n And as the \"priest\" rubs out his cigarette we see it's\n Castor Troy -- carefully installing this complex device.\n\n\n ANOTHER CAROUSEL HORSE\n\n sweeps by...\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n pockets his FBI badge, then holsters his gun...\n\n\n CASTOR\n\n sets the bomb timer -- then replaces a wall panel in\n front of it. Totally hidden.\n\n\n BRIEFING ROOM - CASTOR'S M" ], [ "and he eases off her.\n\n EVE\n I know you -- you're the one who\n called. You're Castor Troy. You\n killed my son --\n\n ARCHER\n -- I called, but I'm not Castor.\n I'm your husband.\n\n Archer holds onto her as she struggles again.\n\n ARCHER\n Now, you're going to listen. The\n last time we saw each other -- was\n in this room. We had a", " You\n can't do it.\n\n Archer says nothing... it's too late for debate. Tito\n parks. The men get out and head for the lab.\n\n TITO\n You haven't got a chance in hell\n of fooling Pollux. Castor drinks,\n smokes and walks around with a 24-\n hour hard-on. He's nothing like\n you --\n\n ARCHER\n Don't worry... If Hoag can do half\n what", "ARCHER\n No father could.\n\n CASTOR\n Appealing to my sense of 'family'\n won't work, Jon. I thought you\n knew me better than that\n\n Archer plays for time -- looking for some edge. He sees\n a crate filled with block-and-tackle amid the shop's\n tools.\n\n ARCHER\n I know some things that even you\n don't know, <u>Caz</u>. You have a son.\n I've", "cher studies the image of his former self -- trying to\n understand. Then he recognizes the smirk on the face, \n the mocking twinkle in the eyes and he says what he \n cannot say...\n\n ARCHER\n -- Castor...?\n\n CASTOR\n Not anymore.\n\n ARCHER\n It can't be. It's impossible.\n\n CASTOR\n I believe the phrase Dr. Hoag used\n was 'titanically remote'. Who\n knows", ".\n\n\n INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Eve gets undressed... waiting for Archer.\n\n EVE\n How was your first day back?\n\n No reply... Eve hears WATER RUNNING. She approaches\n Archer, who's bent over the sink, washing his face.\n\n EVE\n Jon?\n\n Archer stands up -- revealing Castor's face in the\n bathroom mirror. Eve chokes back a scream.\n\n Archer turns and faces her", "Archer splashes water on his face -- then stops and\n listens as the DOORBELL RINGS. He screws up his courage.\n\n ARCHER\n You're Castor Troy... This is <u>your</u>\n old crew -- you don't take shit\n and you don't take no for an\n answer...\n\n\n INT. DIETRICH'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n\n The thugs admire the loft -- dominated by an enormous,", "you are. So\n swallow this -- you are going to\n be in here for the rest of your\n life.\n\n ARCHER\n Castor, don't do this --\n\n CASTOR\n No discussion, Jon -- no deals.\n Now if you'll excuse me, I've got\n an important government job to\n abuse, and a beautiful wife to\n fuck. Excuse me -- I mean 'make\n love to.'\n\n Archer freaks out. He screams, flails", "few repetitions, Archer's voice matches\n perfectly.\n\n Archer yawns, squints and furrows his brow -- testing \n every muscle. He stares into the mirror -- into the eyes\n of his most hated enemy -- now his eyes. Archer slowly \n turns to...\n\n Castor. Motionless, swathed, dead to the world -- but\n something about Castor's smile -- that mocking smile...\n\n ARCHER\n Now what?\n\n TITO\n", "they struggle as Castor tries to\n bury his face on the spinning blade.\n\n CASTOR\n It'll never be over, Jon... every\n time you look in the mirror...\n you'll see my face...\n\n They struggle as the propeller blade. gets closer,\n closer -- slicing into \"Archer's\" cheek. At the last\n instant...\n\n Archer reaches the anchor-chain. He wraps it around the\n screw -- stopping the whirling blades.\n\n Castor finally sink", "fight\n after I told you I had to go away.\n (a beat)\n My assignment -- Jon Archer's\n assignment -- was to enter a\n federal prison as Castor Troy.\n\n Eve is startled by this intimate information but she \n reveals nothing. SIRENS approach the house, the cops are \n returning. She keeps an eye on the door. Playing for \n time.\n\n EVE\n How did he expect to do that?\n\n ARCHER\n An F", "u>...\n\n\n INT. BOATHOUSE - DAY\n\n Sasha's at Archer's side.\n\n SASHA\n Caz -- are you okay?\n\n CASTOR\n You're making a mistake. I'm\n Castor -- he's Archer. Sasha,\n baby -- just give me a minute to\n explain!\n\n SASHA\n That's pathetic, Archer. But\n then, your terrible sense of humor\n is legendary", "whatever he did\n -- I know it's my fault and I know\n I can never make it up to you --\n\n She pulls herself together -- regaining her composure.\n\n EVE\n But you're damn well going to try.\n (a beat)\n First -- how are we going to get\n you out of this?\n\n\n INT. ARCHER HOME - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n Castor wakes up and finds Eve gone. His eyes narrow as\n he touches the mos", "as they rise.\n\n CASTOR\n You won't shoot me, Jon. I'm\n unarmed...\n\n ARCHER\n Okay, I have a confession to\n make... but you aren't gonna like\n it... You're right, I won't shoot\n you. Not in the face anyway.\n\n BOOM -- Archer SHOOTS Castor in the chest! He jerks and\n reels -- dropping to his knees. He looks at Archer in\n total dis", "ito... he smiles, then recoils in shock as\n Castor lifts a pistol and shoots him... then he picks up\n Archer's wedding band off the counter...\n\n\n INT. EREWHON PRISON (PRESENT)\n\n Archer stares -- thunderstruck -- at the wedding band now\n on Castor's finger.\n\n CASTOR\n -- then again, I guess you were\n there.\n (a beat)\n I torched every shred of evidence\n that proves who", "trying to throw Archer off.\n\n Archer can only watch as Castor reaches for another clip.\n\n But the boat hits a wave...\n\n Castor loses the gun -- which skids away. Archer slips,\n his head hanging over the side. Castor tries to ram\n Archer, but he pulls himself up just in time.\n\n Castor grabs the anchor -- swings it. WHUNK! It sinks\n into the deck beside Archer -- but the chain is around\n his neck.\n\n As", ". The CLOSE UP on his leg becomes a FULL\n SHOT as he walks across the rooftop -- like himself.\n Tito demonstrated the proper \"Castor gait\": dangerously\n casual, like a panther.\n\n Hoag reproduces Castor's fingerprints... then layers them\n over Archer's fingers.\n\n Archer practices Castor's icy, killer glare. Tito hands\n him a lit cigarette. Archer brings the cigarette to his\n lips -- then coughs harshly. But", "What're you gonna do with me\n locked up? You'll drive your wife\n and kid nuts! I bet your daughter\n is just about ripe by now. What's\n her name, Janie?\n\n Enraged, Archer steps boldly forward -- trying to draw\n his enemy out. Silence -- then Archer senses...\n\n Castor is behind him. He FIRES -- Archer dives away.\n The BARRAGE CONTINUES -- driving Archer back between two\n huge turbine", "\n\n She stares at him with equal amounts of pity and hatred.\n\n SASHA\n I haven't seen him for years.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n Archer watches as Adam leaves Dietrich and jumps into \n Sasha's arms. She hugs him protectively. Adam sees\n Archer watching them -- and smiles. Archer doesn't smile\n back.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S REAL FACE\n\n PULL", " luck...\n\n Castor whirls, spots Archer again and FIRES! Another\n MIRROR. Sensing Archer behind him -- Castor turns and\n FIRES again -- this time BLASTING away his OWN\n REFLECTION.\n\n Then Archer leaps through a shattered mirror frame -- and\n onto Castor. They battle for control of the pistol.\n\n CASTOR\n It's too late, Jon. Your kid\n loves me. And your wife's an\n ", " you. I want to see the candle-\n light dance in your beautiful --\n\n Uh-oh. Castor can't tell the color of Eve's eyes. He \n leans in \"romantically\" -- but we know the real reason.\n\n CASTOR\n -- brown eyes.\n\n He smells her hair, then her shoulders, her skin. She's\n aroused, but wary. So Castor goes in for the kill.\n\n CASTOR\n I wanted it" ], [ " She's going to be dead\n by tonight anyway. They're all\n going to be dead. The wife, the\n kid... and the father.\n\n\n EXT. OLD RANCH - HIGH GRASS - DAY\n\n Archer waits as Sasha appears with a long case. In the\n b.g., Adam plays on the Ranch House porch with Dietrich.\n\n ARCHER\n How's the boy?\n\n SASHA\n His ears are still ringing -- but", "\n\n During the GUN BATTLE -- we INTERCUT the deaths of\n Dietrich, Lars and Sasha WITH:\n\n\n EXT. SEA - LAZARRO'S ASHES\n\n being scattered at sea.\n\n Castor and Lars RIDDLE Sasha. She drops. Archer FIRES\n back -- killing Lars and driving Castor back.\n\n Archer leans beside the mortally-wounded Sasha.\n\n SASHA\n ... Help Adam... don't let him", " SASHA\n Talk? The only talk I ever heard\n from you was 'take it off,' 'sit\n on it,' 'I'll pay you tomorrow.'\n\n She pulls out some fresh clothes -- and dumps them on\n him.\n\n SASHA\n Take off the rest of those rags\n and get dressed. Then get out.\n\n ARCHER\n Not until I finish my business\n with your brother.\n\n SASHA\n I told him to keep those creeps\n", "her\n mouth to mouth -- man -- even then\n you had some constitution.\n (a beat)\n Remember what you swore to me at\n the funeral?\n\n ARCHER\n Uh -- to kill the doctors?\n\n POLLUX\n After that. You promised you'd\n always take care of me.\n\n ARCHER\n And I bet I kept that promise...\n\n POLLUX\n Only one you've never broken.\n\n Pollux curls into Ar", "near\n tears -- because she knows this may be the last time.\n\n SASHA\n Thank you, Caz... thank you...\n\n ARCHER\n Get the boy out of here...\n\n Livia and the remaining bodyguard hustle Archer out --\n\n\n INT. ROTUNDA - NIGHT\n\n MAC-10 poised, Livia and the bodyguard rush Archer\n through the deserted rotunda -- BOOM! BOOM! His escorts\n drop.\n\n Castor r", "but\n she needs you.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve...\n\n Something in Archer's expression makes her stop.\n\n EVE\n Jon -- what is it?\n\n But he's too overcome. He starts to speak -- but can't.\n\n EVE\n Is it -- him? It's... it's over?\n\n Emotions avalanche across his face until he finally looks \n up. Eve pulls him close -- a sheltering embrace for them \n both.", "her maternal warmth replaced\n by an icy hatred. Tito and the child are gone.\n\n ARCHER\n When was the last time you saw\n Castor Troy?\n\n SASHA\n Who cares? He's dead.\n\n ARCHER\n Answer the question.\n\n SASHA\n Look, I'm clean. I teach kids\n now --\n\n ARCHER\n Sasha -- you are a felon, on\n probation for harboring Cast", "\n he'll be okay.\n\n Archer opens the case. Inside is a sniper rifle.\n\n SASHA\n The truck's all gassed up.\n Look, Caz, there'll be F.B.I.\n agents all over that place. Maybe\n I can talk my brother into helping\n us.\n\n ARCHER\n 'Us'? No, Sasha -- believe me,\n this isn't your fight.\n\n He turns to leave -- but her look draws him", "u>...\n\n\n INT. BOATHOUSE - DAY\n\n Sasha's at Archer's side.\n\n SASHA\n Caz -- are you okay?\n\n CASTOR\n You're making a mistake. I'm\n Castor -- he's Archer. Sasha,\n baby -- just give me a minute to\n explain!\n\n SASHA\n That's pathetic, Archer. But\n then, your terrible sense of humor\n is legendary", "\n\n ARCHER\n Not a bad fit.\n\n SASHA\n They should. They're yours.\n\n ARCHER\n Nice-looking kid, too\n\n SASHA\n Of course he is...\n\n Sasha fidgets, struggling with a deep inner turmoil.\n Then...\n\n SASHA\n Adam, come here... I want you to\n meet your father.\n\n Archer's face pales over in shock.\n\n\n EXT.", " made your life harder...\n\n SASHA\n How would you? You walked out and\n never looked back.\n\n ADAM enters, heading for his toys -- his presence cooling\n Sasha's deep-seated anger. Archer finishes dressing.\n\n ARCHER\n I'm not the same person you\n remember. And for what it's\n worth, I'm sorry...\n\n Her harsh look softens imperceptively -- like that of a\n woman trying to hate someone she still loves.", "says nothing.\n\n He simply takes Jamie's hand, intertwining his fingers in\n hers.\n\n The honor guard steps forward, shouldering their rifles,\n commencing their 21-GUN SALUTE as --\n\n\n ARCHER\n\n steadies himself, re-aims the sniper rifle.\n\n He hears MOTION behind him. Someone's coming and fast...\n but this is his only chance. Off-balance, Archer\n squeezes --\n\n THFFFT! The", "GUNSHOT...\n\n Then Adam smiles -- perhaps the way Matthew once smiled.\n It pulls something up from inside Archer -- something \n strong. He regains control, dumping the child into \n Sasha's arms.\n\n ARCHER\n He's not my son.\n\n SASHA\n Yes, he is -- !\n\n Then something alerts Archer -- maybe the fleeting \n shadows that blot out the window-light for the barest \n second.\n\n ARCH", " ARCHER\n Let him go, but I want him\n watched... Who's next?\n\n TITO\n Just Dietrich's sister...\n\n In another booth, a careworn but striking woman sits with\n a little boy on her lap. She gently helps him Crayola a\n book. This is SASHA HASSLER (30) and her son ADAM (5).\n\n\n INT. INTERROGATION BOOTH - DAY\n\n Archer hovers over Sasha --", ".\n\n\n TOP LEVEL\n\n Dietrich leads them to the very back of the loft. He\n pulls open a hidden door.\n\n DIETRICH\n If we make it, we'll meet up at my\n Malibu place. You remember it,\n Caz?\n\n ARCHER\n Off Kanan Road -- I know it.\n\n Archer hands Adam over to Sasha. She hugs her little boy\n -- then embraces Archer tightly. Hanging on --", "\n\n SASHA\n\n scoops up the kicked weapon -- and cold-cocks another\n rappelling agent. Then she FIRES, cutting a third\n rappelling agent's rope. he drops hard to the floor --\n unconscious.\n\n Still grappling, Archer rips off the agent's gas-mask...\n\n ARCHER\n Buzz...\n\n Buzz's eyes reveal only hatred. He reaches for his\n knife. Archer hesitates, then heaves Buzz through the \n", "\n\n She stares at him with equal amounts of pity and hatred.\n\n SASHA\n I haven't seen him for years.\n\n\n INT. CORRIDOR - DAY\n\n Archer watches as Adam leaves Dietrich and jumps into \n Sasha's arms. She hugs him protectively. Adam sees\n Archer watching them -- and smiles. Archer doesn't smile\n back.\n\n\n FULL SCREEN - CASTOR'S REAL FACE\n\n PULL", "cher -- in need of comfort. Archer\n puts an affectionate arm around Pollux -- springing the\n trap.\n\n ARCHER\n Screw the past. We've got the\n future to look forward to.\n (a beat)\n We still have tomorrow.\n\n POLLUX\n No shit... five million bucks...\n now those Red Militia crackpots\n get to keep it.\n\n ARCHER\n That's not the worst part.\n\n P", "finally out of our lives.\n\n ARCHER\n Eve...\n\n He starts to say the words. He wants, needs to share the\n truth with her. But he can't. Instead --\n\n ARCHER\n ... If I had to do something to\n find some closure... I should do\n it, shouldn't I?... No matter how\n crazy?\n\n EVE\n Oh, God -- you're going on\n assignment again...\n\n ARCHER\n One last time", "memorial service.\n\n ARCHER\n Victor... Tito... they both died\n thinking I killed them... And in a\n way... I did.\n\n EVE\n Jon -- you can't think about that\n now.\n\n Archer takes a breath -- and pulls himself together.\n\n ARCHER\n -- What happens after the memorial?\n\n EVE\n He's taking Jamie and me away.\n\n ARCHER\n And neither of you will be coming\n back. Where'" ] ]

[ "Who does Archer work for? ", "Who gets accidentally killed when Archer is shot by Caster?", "What is the name of Archer's partner?", "What procedure does Archer undergo? ", "Who performs the face transplant operation? ", "How does Archer escape prison?", "Who kills Victor Lazarro? ", "What type of promotion does Castor-as-Archer receive? ", "How does it appear that Victor Lazarro dies? ", "Who does Sean Archer work for?", "Who is known for being a domestic terrorist?", "Who was responsible for Michael's death?", "Who performs the face transplant?", "Who burned down Dr. Walsh's lab?", "Who does Castor save Jamie from?", "What did Archer start in prison in order to escape?", "What does Archer make Eve do in order to believe his story?", "Who does Jamie stab with a butterfly knife?", "Who was adopted by Archer's family?", "Who gets killed when Castor Troy was trying to kill FBI agent Sean Archer?", "What knowledge does Castor taunt Archer with at the Los Angeles airport, six years after Michael was killed?", "How does Archer trick Pollux Troy into telling him the location of the bomb?", "What happens when Castor wakes up from a coma?", "What does \"Archer\" tell \"Castor\" when he surprises him at the prison?", "How does Castor as Archer begin to take over Archer's life?", "How does Asher as Castor escape prison?", "What huge news does Archer as Castor learn when he went to Castor's headquarters?", "How does Archer as Castor convince his wife that he is Archer?", "What promise does Archer make Sasha as she lay there dying?" ]

[ [ "The FBI ", "The FBI" ], [ "Archer's son", "His son, Michael" ], [ "Tito Biondi", "Tito Biondi." ], [ "A face transplant procedure", "face transplant" ], [ "Dr. Malcolm Walsh", "Dr. walsh" ], [ "He starts a prison riot", "By starting a prison riot" ], [ "Castor", "castor" ], [ "Acting director", "Respect from the FBI." ], [ "From a heart attack", "heart attack" ], [ "The FBI", "FBI" ], [ "Castor Troy", "Castor troy " ], [ "Castor Troy", "Castor troy" ], [ "Dr. Malcolm Walsh", "Dr. Walsh" ], [ "Castor", "Castor Troy " ], [ "A rapist", "a rapist" ], [ "A riot", "a riot" ], [ "Take a sample of his blood", "take blood samples" ], [ "Castor", "Castor" ], [ "Adam", "Adam" ], [ "Archer's son Michael", "his gang" ], [ "there is a bomb hidden in the city and it will be explode in a few days", "Burning Dr Walsh's lab " ], [ "he has an experimental face plant, he takes Castor's face", "He convinces him that he is Castor" ], [ "he forces Dr. Walsh to give him Archer's face", "He discovers his face is missing." ], [ "he burned the lab to the ground with Tito and Dr. Walsh inside", "burned down the lab and evidence" ], [ "he dismantles the bomb, begins to romance his wife, and even saves his daughter from a rapist", "He gets his face, impresses his coworkers, and seduces his wife." ], [ "he starts a prison riot", "By starting a riot." ], [ "Castor has a son, Adam, by Sasha", "Adam is castor's son " ], [ "she takes blood samples from Castor and Archer", "By comparing their blood" ], [ "to raise Adam and not allow him to fall prey to a life of crime.", "To take care of Adam and keep him away from crime" ] ]

[ [ "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", ", _Dinant_, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.\nAs you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.\nI want a Second now to meet these gallants,\nYou know what honour is.\n\n_1 Gent._ Sir you must pardon us,\nWe goe about the same work, you are ready for;\nAnd must fight presently, else we were your servants.\n\n_2 Gent._ God speed you, and good day. [_Exit_ Gent.\n\n_Cler._ Am I thus Colted?\n\n_Be", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", "charg'd your parts,\nThat while we live, rest confident you shall\nCommand _Dinant_ and _Cleremont_; nor _Beaupre_,\nNor _Verdone_ scents it: for the Ladies, they\nWere easie to be gull'd.\n\n_1 Gent._ 'Twas but a jest,\nAnd yet the jest may chance to break our necks\nShould it be known.\n\n_Cler._ Fear nothing.\n\n_Din._ _Cleremont_,\nSay, what success?\n\n", "\n_Cler._ And my fine cold virgin,\nThat was insensible of man, and woman?\n\n_Din._ Justice too,\nWithout a sword to guard it self?\n\n_Cler._ And valour with its hands bound?\n\n_Din._ And the great Souldier dull?\nWhy this is strange.\n\n_Lam._ _Dinant_ as thou art noble--\n\n_Ana._ As thou art valiant _Cleremont_--\n\n_Lam._ As ever I appear'd lovely--\n\n_A", "_Din._ And should he call me to account for what\nBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honour\nRecant my words, that little hope is left me,\nE're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,\nIs taken from me.\n\n_Cer._ Why what can you hope for,\nShe being now married?\n\n_Din._ Oh my _Cleremont_,\nTo you all secrets of my heart lye open,\nAnd I rest most secure that whatsoe're\nI lock up there, is as a private", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "\nSo dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannot\nEndure to see her tears. [_Exeunt_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Champ._ See you perform it,\nAnd do it like my Nephew.\n\n_Verdo._ If I fail in't\nNe'r know me more, Cousin _Beaupre_.\n\n_Champ._ Repent not\nWhat thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not find\nI am decrepit; in my love and service,\nI will be young", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "friend, Sir: _Dinant_ you draw your sword\nUpon the Gentleman preserv'd your honour:\nThis was my second, and did back me nobly,\nFor shame forbear.\n\n_Din._ I ask your mercy, Sir, and am your servant now.\n\n_La-writ._ May we not fight then?\n\n_Cler._ I am sure you shall not now.\n\n_La-wr._ I am sorry for't, I am sure I'le stay no longer then,\nNot a jot longer: are there any more on", "\nYour swords are all lead there.\n\n_Beaup._ I know no duty,\n(How ever you may wreak your spleen on him,)\nThat bindes me to endure this.\n\n_Cham._ From _Dinant_\nYou'l suffer more; that ever cursed I,\nShould give my honour up, to the defence\nOf such a thing as he is, or my Lady\nThat is all Innocent, for whom a dove would\nAssume the courage of a daring Eagle,\nRepose her confidence in one that can\n", ", Sir, as my Champion,\nSince you propound it mirth, I'll venture on it,\nAnd shall defend my cause, but as y'are honest\nSport not with bloud.\n\n_Cler._ Think not so basely, good Sir.\n\n_Vert._ A Squire shall wait upon you from my Kinsman,\nTo morrow morning make you sport at full,\nYou want no Subject; but no wounds.\n\n_Cler._ That's my care.\n\n_Ver._ And so good day. [_Ex._ Vertaign,", "Cler._ Ye shall fight Gentlemen,\nAnd fight enough, but a short turn or two,\nI think I see him, set up your watch, we'l fight by it.\n\n_Beaup._ That is not he; we will not be deluded.\n\n_Cler._ Am I bob'd thus? pray take a pipe of tobacco,\nOr sing but some new air; by that time, Gentlemen--\n\n_Verd._ Come draw your Sword, you know the custome here Sir,\nFirst come, first serv'd.\n\n_" ], [ "Cler._ Ye shall fight Gentlemen,\nAnd fight enough, but a short turn or two,\nI think I see him, set up your watch, we'l fight by it.\n\n_Beaup._ That is not he; we will not be deluded.\n\n_Cler._ Am I bob'd thus? pray take a pipe of tobacco,\nOr sing but some new air; by that time, Gentlemen--\n\n_Verd._ Come draw your Sword, you know the custome here Sir,\nFirst come, first serv'd.\n\n_", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "They may live, and multiply; 'tis a cold morning.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis sharp indeed; you have broke your fast?\n\n_La-writ._ No verily.\n\n_Cler._ Your valour would have ask'd a good foundation.\n\n_La-writ._ Hang him, I'le kill him fasting.\n\n _Enter_ Sampson _and the Gent_.\n\n_Cler._ Here they come,\nBear your self in your language, smooth and gently,\nWhen your swords argue.\n\n_La", ", _Dinant_, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.\nAs you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.\nI want a Second now to meet these gallants,\nYou know what honour is.\n\n_1 Gent._ Sir you must pardon us,\nWe goe about the same work, you are ready for;\nAnd must fight presently, else we were your servants.\n\n_2 Gent._ God speed you, and good day. [_Exit_ Gent.\n\n_Cler._ Am I thus Colted?\n\n_Be", "his honour\nA firm and worthy Friend, yet I see nothing,\nNor Horse nor man, 'twould vex me to be left here,\nTo th' mercy of two swords, and two approv'd ones.\nI never knew him last.\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre, _and_ Verdone.\n\n_Beaup._ You are well met _Cleremont_.\n\n_Verdo._ You are a fair Gentleman, and love your friend Sir.\nWhat are you ready? the time has overta'ne us.\n\n_", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "more mercy,\nThe Gentleman may do his Country--\n\n_Cler._ Now I beseech you, Sir,\nIf you dare not fight, do not stay to beg my pardon.\nThere lies your way.\n\n_Gent._ Good morrow Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verd._ You see your fortune,\nYou had better yield your Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Pray ye stay a little.\n\n _Enter two_ Gentlemen.\n\nUpon mine honestie, you shall be fought with;\nWell", "Cler._ Though it be held a custom,\nAnd practised so, I do not hold it honest;\nWhat honour can you both win on me single?\n\n_Beaup._ Yield up your Sword then.\n\n_Cler._ Yield my Sword? that's Hebrew;\nI'le be first cut a p[iec]es; hold but a while,\nI'le take the next that comes.\n\n _Enter an old_ Gentleman.\n\nYou are an old Gentleman?\n\n_Gent._ Yes indeed am", ", Sir, as my Champion,\nSince you propound it mirth, I'll venture on it,\nAnd shall defend my cause, but as y'are honest\nSport not with bloud.\n\n_Cler._ Think not so basely, good Sir.\n\n_Vert._ A Squire shall wait upon you from my Kinsman,\nTo morrow morning make you sport at full,\nYou want no Subject; but no wounds.\n\n_Cler._ That's my care.\n\n_Ver._ And so good day. [_Ex._ Vertaign,", "yer. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre.\n\n_Beaup._ They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,\nTake you that ground,\n\n _Enter_ La-writ.\n\nI'le stay here, fight bravely.\n\n_La-writ._ To't chearfully my boyes, you'l let's have fair play,\nNone of your foyning tricks.\n\n_Beaup._ Come forward Monsieur; [_Fight._\nWhat hast", "friend, Sir: _Dinant_ you draw your sword\nUpon the Gentleman preserv'd your honour:\nThis was my second, and did back me nobly,\nFor shame forbear.\n\n_Din._ I ask your mercy, Sir, and am your servant now.\n\n_La-writ._ May we not fight then?\n\n_Cler._ I am sure you shall not now.\n\n_La-wr._ I am sorry for't, I am sure I'le stay no longer then,\nNot a jot longer: are there any more on", "do what I can, and then--\n\n_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.\n\n_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?\nAnd because I was honourably employed in action,\nAnd not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,\n'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cl", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "only sleeps.\n\n_Cler._ Go, keep her stirring.\n\n_Lam._ Now if he 'wake, as sometimes he does,\nHe only stretches out his hand and feels,\nWhether I am a bed, which being assur'd of,\nHe sleeps again; but should he miss me, Valour\nCould not defend our lives.\n\n_Din._ What's to be done then?\n\n_Lam._ Servants have servile faiths, nor have I any\nThat I dare trust; on noble _Cleremont_", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "brought me comfort.\n\n_Cler._ If you think me worthy of your husband,\nI am no rogue nor Begger, if you dare do thus--\n\n_Ana._ You are Monsieur _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ I am the same,\nIf you dare venture, speak, if not I leave you,\nAnd leave you to the mercy of these villains\nThat will not wooe ye much.\n\n_Ana._ Save my reputation,\nAnd free me from these slaves.\n\n_Cler._ By this kiss I'le do", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", ".\n\n_Cler._ Be not so hastie,\nYou wear a good Sword.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not that,\nI never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--\n\n_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part\nAgainst these Gentlemen, I want a second;\nYe seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.\n\n_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.\n\n_Cler._ You that breed quarels" ], [ "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "am._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken,\nAnd your litigious blood about your ears sirra,\nWhy do you fight and snarle?\n\n_La-writ._ I was possest.\n\n_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.\n\n_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.\n\n_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_\n\n_Verta._ Beat him no more.\n", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "ie?\n\n_La-writ._ All I desire of ye,\nIs to take the quarrel to your self, and let me hear no more on't,\nI have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,\nAnd help me to put up my Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Most willingly.\nBut I am bound to gratifie you, and I must not leave you.\n\n_La-writ._ I tell you, I will not be gratified,\nNor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too,", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "ing's my occupation\nIf you find your selves aggriev'd.\n\n_Sam._ A compleat Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Avant thou buckram budget of petitions,\nThou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee,\nAnd till revenge be taken--\n\n_Sam._ 'Tis most excellent.\n\n_La-wr._ There, every man chuse his paper, and his place.\nI'le answer ye all, I will neglect no mans business\nBut he shall have satisfaction like a Gentle", "er._ Who have we here?\nMy little furious Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ I say 'tis well,\nBut mark the end.\n\n_Cler._ How he is metamorphos'd!\nNothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram,\nNo solliciting face now,\nThis is no simple conversion.\nYour servant Sir, and Friend.\n\n_La-writ._ You come in time, Sir,\n\n_Cler._ The happier man, to be at your command then.\n\n_La-writ._ You", ", one good turn requires another.\n\n_Cler._ Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.\n\n_La-w._ There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.\n\n_Cler._ This is a Challenge, Sir,\n\n_La-w._ 'Tis very like, Sir,\nI seldom now write Sonnets.\n\n_Cler._ _O admirantis_,\nTo Monsieur _Vertaign_, the President.\n\n_La-w._ I chuse no Fool, Sir.\n\n_Cler._ Why", "man,\nThe Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.\n\n_Sam._ You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not Sir,\nBut you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.\n\n_Sam._ It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.\n\n_La-writ._ I rest your servant Sir.\n\n_Sam._ No more words Gentlemen\nBut follow me, no more words as you love me,\nThe Gentleman's a noble Gentleman.\nI shall", "shew slight here, and at what gusts of danger\nHis manhood has arrived,\nBut that\nMens fates are foolish,\nAnd often headlong overrun their fortunes.\n\n_La-writ._ That little Lawyer would so prick his ears up,\nAnd bite your honour by the nose.\n\n_Cham._ Say you so Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ So niggle about your grave shins Lord _Verta[ig]ne_ too.\n\n_Sam._ No more sweet Gentleman, no more of that Sir.\n\n", "you can, Sir.\n\n_Sam._ Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's _La-writ_?\nWhere's your sufficient Lawyer?\n\n_1 Cly._ He's blown up, Sir.\n\n_2 Cly._ Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets;\nHe is no Lawyer of this world now.\n\n_Sam._ Your reason?\nIs he defunct? is he dead?\n\n_2 Cly._ No he's not dead yet, Sir;\nBut I would be loth", "hang my bag then, it may save my belly,\nI never lov'd cold Iron there.\n\n_Cler._ You do wisely.\n\n_La-writ._ Help me to pluck my Sword out then, quickly, quickly,\n'Thas not seen Sun these ten years.\n\n_Cler._ How it grumbles!\nThis Sword is vengeance angry.\n\n_La-writ._ Now I'le put my hat up,\nAnd say my prayers as I goe; away boy,\nIf I be kill'd, remember the little Law", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI", ".\n\n_Cler._ Be not so hastie,\nYou wear a good Sword.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not that,\nI never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--\n\n_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part\nAgainst these Gentlemen, I want a second;\nYe seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.\n\n_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.\n\n_Cler._ You that breed quarels", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La", "?\nI am very cold, but that should not be laught at.\n\n_Cham._ What art thou?\n\n_La-writ._ What art thou?\n\n_Sam._ If he had his doublet.--\nAnd his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have.\n\n_Verta._ Peace Monsieur _Sampson_.\n\n_Cham._ Come hither little Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Base is the slave commanded: come to me.\n\n_Verta._ This is the little advocate.\n\n_Ch", "is a Champion for it,\nAnd will protect and guard it.\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis as safe then,\nAs if a compleat Army undertook it. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ La-writ, Sampson, _Clyents._\n\n_La-writ._ Do not perswade me gentle Monsieur _Sampson_,\nI am a mortal man again, a Lawyer,\nMy martiall part I have put off.\n\n_Sam._ Sweet Monsieur,\nLet but our honours teach us." ], [ ", one good turn requires another.\n\n_Cler._ Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.\n\n_La-w._ There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.\n\n_Cler._ This is a Challenge, Sir,\n\n_La-w._ 'Tis very like, Sir,\nI seldom now write Sonnets.\n\n_Cler._ _O admirantis_,\nTo Monsieur _Vertaign_, the President.\n\n_La-w._ I chuse no Fool, Sir.\n\n_Cler._ Why", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "face, and you shall carry it.\n\n_Cler._ The least is Banishment.\n\n_La-w._ Be banish'd then;\n'Tis a friends part, we'll meet in _Africa_,\nOr any part of the Earth.\n\n_Cler._ Say he will not fight.\n\n_La-w._ I know then what to say, take you no care, Sir,\n\n_Cler._ Well, I will carry it, and deliver it,\nAnd to morrow morning meet you in the Louver,\nTill when, my", "do what I can, and then--\n\n_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.\n\n_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?\nAnd because I was honourably employed in action,\nAnd not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,\n'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cl", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "Cler._ Thou strik'st me, fool.\n\n_La-writ._ Thou fool, stand further off then,\nDeliver, deliver.\n\n_Cler._ Hold fast. [_He strikes up the others heels,\n and takes his Sword too._\n_La-writ._ I never fail in't,\nThere's twelve pence, go buy you two leaden Daggers,\nHave I done well?\n\n_Cler._ Most like a Gentleman.\n\n_Beau._ And we two basely lost.\n", "ie?\n\n_La-writ._ All I desire of ye,\nIs to take the quarrel to your self, and let me hear no more on't,\nI have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,\nAnd help me to put up my Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Most willingly.\nBut I am bound to gratifie you, and I must not leave you.\n\n_La-writ._ I tell you, I will not be gratified,\nNor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too,", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "so fight, with such metal,\nAnd with such judgement meet your enemies fury;\nI see it in your eye, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I'le be hang'd then;\nAnd I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.\n\n_Cler._ I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,\nWhich if you do not quickly, I begin with you,\nI'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?\nSweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.\n\n_La-", "ch or two--\n\n_Gen._ We'll have 'em.\n\n_La-writ._ No handling any Duells before I come,\nWe'll have no going else, I hate a coward.\n\n_Gent._ There shall be nothing done.\n\n_La-writ._ Make all the quarrels\nYou can devise before I come, and let's all fight,\nThere is no sport else.\n\n_Gent._ We'll see what may be done, Sir.\n\n_1 Cly._ Ha? Monsieur _La-writ_.", "yer. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre.\n\n_Beaup._ They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,\nTake you that ground,\n\n _Enter_ La-writ.\n\nI'le stay here, fight bravely.\n\n_La-writ._ To't chearfully my boyes, you'l let's have fair play,\nNone of your foyning tricks.\n\n_Beaup._ Come forward Monsieur; [_Fight._\nWhat hast", "They may live, and multiply; 'tis a cold morning.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis sharp indeed; you have broke your fast?\n\n_La-writ._ No verily.\n\n_Cler._ Your valour would have ask'd a good foundation.\n\n_La-writ._ Hang him, I'le kill him fasting.\n\n _Enter_ Sampson _and the Gent_.\n\n_Cler._ Here they come,\nBear your self in your language, smooth and gently,\nWhen your swords argue.\n\n_La", ".\n\n_Cler._ Be not so hastie,\nYou wear a good Sword.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not that,\nI never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--\n\n_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part\nAgainst these Gentlemen, I want a second;\nYe seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.\n\n_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.\n\n_Cler._ You that breed quarels" ], [ "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", ",\nI shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,\nAnd stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._\nShe may be, and she may not, now to my observation.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.\n\n_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--\n\n_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.\n\n_Din._ Why do you shift thus\nFrom one Chamber to another?\n\n_Lam._ A little delay, Sir,", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", "\n_Cler._ And my fine cold virgin,\nThat was insensible of man, and woman?\n\n_Din._ Justice too,\nWithout a sword to guard it self?\n\n_Cler._ And valour with its hands bound?\n\n_Din._ And the great Souldier dull?\nWhy this is strange.\n\n_Lam._ _Dinant_ as thou art noble--\n\n_Ana._ As thou art valiant _Cleremont_--\n\n_Lam._ As ever I appear'd lovely--\n\n_A", "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "\n_Lam._ O _Dinant_!\n\n_Din._ I can but add your sorrows to my sorrows,\nYour fears to my fears.\n\n_Cler._ To your wishes mine,\nThis slave may prove unable to perform,\nTill I perform the task that I was born for.\n\n_Ana._ Amen, amen.\n\n_1 Gent._ Drag the slaves hence, for you\nA while I'le lock you up here, study all ways\nYou can to please me, or the deed being done,\nYou are but dead.", "Lam._ 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.\n\n_Cler._ Would you had done too,\nYou know not\nIn what a misery and fear I lye.\nYou have a Lady in your arms.\n\n_Din._ I would have-- [_The Recorders again._\n\n_Champ._ I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.\n\n_Cler._ Remove for Heavens sake,\nAnd fall to that you come for.\n\n_Lam._ Lie you down,\n", ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", ".\n\n_Lam._ As you respect our lives, speak not so loud.\n\n_Cler._ Why, do it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd.\n\n_Lam._ Be not so hasty, Sir, the golden Apples\nHad a fell Dragon for their Guard, your pleasures\nAre to be attempted with _Herculean_ danger,\nOr never to be gotten.\n\n_Din._ Speak the means.\n\n_Lam._ Thus briefly, my Lord sleeps now, and alas,\nEach Night, he", "\n_Lamira._ Why, foolish man,\nDare you solicite me to serve your lust,\nIn which not only I abuse my Lord,\nMy Father, and my family, but write whore,\nThough not upon my forehead, in my conscience,\nTo be read hourly, and yet name your honour?\nYours suffers but in circumstance; mine in substance.\nIf you obey me, you part with some credit,\nFrom whom? the giddy multitude; but mankind\nWill censure me, and justly.\n\n_Din._", "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee", "from me\nThe fetters she put on; thus her enchantments\nI blow away like wind, no more her beauty--\n\n_Old Lady._ Take heed Sir what you say.\n\n_Cler._ Goe forward, _Dinant_.\n\n_Din._ The charms shot from her eyes--\n\n_Old Lady._ Be wise.\n\n_Cler._ Be Valiant.\n\n_Din._ That tongue that tells fair tales to mens destructions\nShall never rack me more.\n\n_Old Lady._ Stay there.\n\n_Cler._", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "\nIf I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,\nOr curb me of that freedom you once gave me--\n\n_Cham._ What then?\n\n_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,\nBut to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,\nI'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_\nHave courage to defend me.\n\n_Champ._ Impudent!\n\n_Verd._ And on the sudden--\n\n_Beau._ How are ye", "what life.\n\n_Lam._ The more trust you commit, the more care still,\nGoodness and vertue shall attend my will.\n\n_Cham._ Let's laugh this night out now, and count our gains.\nWe have our honours home, and they their pains. [_Exeunt omnes._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, Dinant.\n\n_Din._ It holds, they will go thither.\n\n_Cler._ To" ], [ "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "ie?\n\n_La-writ._ All I desire of ye,\nIs to take the quarrel to your self, and let me hear no more on't,\nI have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,\nAnd help me to put up my Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Most willingly.\nBut I am bound to gratifie you, and I must not leave you.\n\n_La-writ._ I tell you, I will not be gratified,\nNor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too,", "am._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken,\nAnd your litigious blood about your ears sirra,\nWhy do you fight and snarle?\n\n_La-writ._ I was possest.\n\n_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.\n\n_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.\n\n_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_\n\n_Verta._ Beat him no more.\n", "er._ Who have we here?\nMy little furious Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ I say 'tis well,\nBut mark the end.\n\n_Cler._ How he is metamorphos'd!\nNothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram,\nNo solliciting face now,\nThis is no simple conversion.\nYour servant Sir, and Friend.\n\n_La-writ._ You come in time, Sir,\n\n_Cler._ The happier man, to be at your command then.\n\n_La-writ._ You", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", ".\n\n_Cler._ Be not so hastie,\nYou wear a good Sword.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not that,\nI never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--\n\n_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part\nAgainst these Gentlemen, I want a second;\nYe seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.\n\n_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.\n\n_Cler._ You that breed quarels", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "so fight, with such metal,\nAnd with such judgement meet your enemies fury;\nI see it in your eye, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I'le be hang'd then;\nAnd I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.\n\n_Cler._ I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,\nWhich if you do not quickly, I begin with you,\nI'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?\nSweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.\n\n_La-", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "is a Champion for it,\nAnd will protect and guard it.\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis as safe then,\nAs if a compleat Army undertook it. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ La-writ, Sampson, _Clyents._\n\n_La-writ._ Do not perswade me gentle Monsieur _Sampson_,\nI am a mortal man again, a Lawyer,\nMy martiall part I have put off.\n\n_Sam._ Sweet Monsieur,\nLet but our honours teach us.", "\n\n_La-writ._ Baffled in way of business,\nMy causes cast away, Judgement against us?\nWhy there it goes.\n\n_2 Cly._ What shall we do the whilst Sir?\n\n_La-wr._ Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves\n'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.\n\n_1 Cli._ Do you hear what he saies Sir?\n\n_Sam._ The Gentleman speaks finely.\n\n_La-wr._ Will any of you fight? Fight", "you can, Sir.\n\n_Sam._ Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's _La-writ_?\nWhere's your sufficient Lawyer?\n\n_1 Cly._ He's blown up, Sir.\n\n_2 Cly._ Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets;\nHe is no Lawyer of this world now.\n\n_Sam._ Your reason?\nIs he defunct? is he dead?\n\n_2 Cly._ No he's not dead yet, Sir;\nBut I would be loth", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "yer. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre.\n\n_Beaup._ They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,\nTake you that ground,\n\n _Enter_ La-writ.\n\nI'le stay here, fight bravely.\n\n_La-writ._ To't chearfully my boyes, you'l let's have fair play,\nNone of your foyning tricks.\n\n_Beaup._ Come forward Monsieur; [_Fight._\nWhat hast", ", one good turn requires another.\n\n_Cler._ Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.\n\n_La-w._ There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.\n\n_Cler._ This is a Challenge, Sir,\n\n_La-w._ 'Tis very like, Sir,\nI seldom now write Sonnets.\n\n_Cler._ _O admirantis_,\nTo Monsieur _Vertaign_, the President.\n\n_La-w._ I chuse no Fool, Sir.\n\n_Cler._ Why", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI", "--\n\n_2 Cly._ Tempt him no further,\nBe warn'd and say no more.\n\n_La-writ._ If thou doest, _Sampson_,\nThou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose,\nThat in a moment--\n\n_Sam._ I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish--\n\n_La-writ._ They shall destroy thee wishing;\nThere's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes,\nDearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou", "hang my bag then, it may save my belly,\nI never lov'd cold Iron there.\n\n_Cler._ You do wisely.\n\n_La-writ._ Help me to pluck my Sword out then, quickly, quickly,\n'Thas not seen Sun these ten years.\n\n_Cler._ How it grumbles!\nThis Sword is vengeance angry.\n\n_La-writ._ Now I'le put my hat up,\nAnd say my prayers as I goe; away boy,\nIf I be kill'd, remember the little Law" ], [ "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee", "'Tis but an hours endurance now.\n\n_Cler._ I dare not, softly sweet Lady ----heart?\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis nothing but your fear, he sleeps still soundly,\nLie gently down.\n\n_Cler._ 'Pray make an end.\n\n_Din._ Come, Madam.\n\n_Lam._ These Chambers are too near. [_Ex._ Din. Lam.\n\n_Cham._ I shall be nearer;\nWell, go thy wayes, I'le trust thee through the", "\nKick me and beat me as I go, and I'le beat thee too,\nTo keep us warm; if ever we recover 'em--\nKick hard, I am frozen: so, so, now I feel it.\n\n_Sam._ I am dull yet.\n\n_La-w._ I'le warm thee, I'le warm thee--Gentlemen?\nRogues, Thieves, Thieves: run now I'le follow thee. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champer", "To make you merry, this poor simple fellow\nHas met the maid again, and now she knows\nHe is a man.\n\n_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?\n\n_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable,\nHeaven is a witness of our happy contract,\nAnd the next Priest we meet shall warrant it\nTo all the world: I lay with her in jeast,\n'Tis turn'd to earnest now.\n\n_Cham._ Is this true, Niece?\n\n_Din._ Her blushing silence grants", "But fear nothing, all shall be well, away quickly\nIt must be done i'th' moment or--\n\n_Ana._ I am with ye.\n\n_Cler._ I'le know now who sleeps by me, keep your standing.\n [_Ex._ Cler. _and_ Anabel.\n\n_Lam._ Well, go thy way, and thine own shame dwell with thee.\nIs this the constancy she shew'd, the bravery?\nThe dear love and the life she ow'd her kinsmen?\n", "If he pray, praying, _ipso facto_, praying,\nYour honourable way admits no prayer,\nAnd if he fight, he falls, there's his _quietus_.\n\n_Gent._ Y'are nobly punctual, let's retire and meet 'em,\nBut still, I say, have mercy.\n\n_Samp._ I say, honour. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Lamira, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone,\n Charlote _and a Serv", "\n_Cler._ I will say little, [_Fight._\nSpeak thou for me.\n\n_Cham._ 'Tis bravely fought.\n\n_Verta._ Brave tempers,\nTo do thus for their enemies.\n\n_Cham._ They are lost yet.\n\n_1 Gent._ You that would rescue others, shall now feel\nWhat they were born to.\n\n_2 Gent._ Hurry them away. [_Ex. Manent_ Vert. _and_ Champernel.\n\n_Cham._ That I could", "\nSo dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannot\nEndure to see her tears. [_Exeunt_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Champ._ See you perform it,\nAnd do it like my Nephew.\n\n_Verdo._ If I fail in't\nNe'r know me more, Cousin _Beaupre_.\n\n_Champ._ Repent not\nWhat thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not find\nI am decrepit; in my love and service,\nI will be young", "in you?\n_Cleremont_, we are betrayed, betrayed, sold by a woman;\nDeal bravely for thy self.\n\n_Cler._ This comes of rutting;\nAre we made stales to one another?\n\n_Din._ Yes, we are undone, lost.\n\n_Cler._ You shall pay for't grey-beard.\nUp, up, you sleep your last else. {_Lights above, two Servants\n {and_ Anabel.\n_1 Serv._ No, not yet", "it; nay Sir storm not,\nHe is my friend, and I can make this good,\nHis birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship\nMight have sought out a worse, we are all friends too,\nAll differences end thus. Now Sir, unless\nYou would raise new dissentions, make perfect\nWhat is so well begun.\n\n_Vert._ That were not manly.\n\n_Lam._ Let me perswade you.\n\n_Cham._ Well God give you joy,\nShe shall not come a Begger to you Sir.\nFor you Mons", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", ": I can jump yet,\nOr tread a measure.\n\n_Lam._ Like a Millers Mare.\n\n_Nurs._ I warrant you well enough to serve the Country,\nI'le make one, and lead the way. [_Exit._\n\n_Charl._ Do you note,\nHow zealous the old Crone is?\n\n_Lam._ And you titter\nAs eagerly as she: come sweet, we'll follow,\nNo ill can be intended. [_Musick ends._\n\n_Cham._ I ne", "The language I should use; I am most happy\nIn being so near you. [_Exeunt_ Verdone, _and_ Beaupre.\n\n_Lamira._ O my fears! good nurse\nFollow my Brother unobserv'd, and learn\nWhich way he takes.\n\n_Nurs._ I will be carefull Madam. [_Exit_ Nurse.\n\n_Champ._ Between us complements are superfluous,\nOn Gentlemen, th' affront we have met here\nWe'l think upon hereafter, 'twere", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", " [_Exit_ Samp.\nFarewel; come chearily boyes, about our business,\nNow welcom tongue again, hang Swords.\n\n_1 Cly._ Sweet Advocate. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Nurse, _and_ Charlote.\n\n_Nur._ I know not wench, they may call 'em what they will,\nOutlawes, or thieves, but I am sure, to me\nOne was an honest man, he us'd me well,\nWhat I did, 'tis", "ins all,\n Many such fair nights may fall._\n\n Chorus.\n\n _Hymen, fill the house with joy,\n All thy sacred fires employ:\n Bless the Bed with holy love,\n Now fair orb of Beauty move._\n\n_Din._ Stand by, for I'le be heard.\n\n_Verta._ This is strange rudeness.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis courtship, ballanced with injuries,\nYou all look pale with guilt, but I will dy\nYour cheeks with blushes, if in your", "Lady._ I shall direct you quickly.\n\n_Din._ Well, I'le goe,\nBut what her wrongs will give me leave to say.\n\n_Cler._ We'll leave that to your selves: I shall hear from you.\n\n_Din._ As soon as I come off--\n\n_Cler._ Come on then bravely;\nFarewel till then, and play the man.\n\n_Din._ You are merry;\nAll I expect is scorn: I'le lead you Lady. [_Exeunt", "the first place holds, the second Love. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, Charlote.\n\n_Lami._ Sleeps my Lord still, _Charlote_?\n\n_Char._ Not to be wak'd.\nBy your Ladiships cheerfull looks I well perceive\nThat this night the good Lord hath been\nAt an unusual service, and no wonder\nIf he rest after it.\n\n_Lamira._ You are very bold.\n\n_Char._ Your Creature Madam, and when you are pleas", ", they say fair,\nAnd you are young and handsome, Gentlemen;\nHave you any more mind to Wenches?\n\n_Cler._ To be abus'd too? Lady, you might have help'd this.\n\n_Ana._ Sir now 'tis past, but 't may be I may stand\nYour friend hereafter, in a greater matter.\n\n_Cler._ Never whilst you live.\n\n_Ana._ You cannot tell--now, Sir, a parting hand.\n\n_Cler._ Down and Roses:\nWell I" ], [ ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", ",\nI shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,\nAnd stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._\nShe may be, and she may not, now to my observation.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.\n\n_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--\n\n_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.\n\n_Din._ Why do you shift thus\nFrom one Chamber to another?\n\n_Lam._ A little delay, Sir,", "me call'd for a requital,\nWhich now I have return'd, all unchast love\n_Dinant_ thus throws away; live to man-kind,\nAs you have done to me, and I will honour\nYour vertue, and no more think of your beauty.\n\n_Lam._ All I possess, comes short of satisfaction.\n\n_Din._ No complements: the terrours of this night\nImagine but a fearfull dream, and so\nWith ease forget it: for _Dinant_, that labour'd\nTo blast your honour,", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "\nIf I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,\nOr curb me of that freedom you once gave me--\n\n_Cham._ What then?\n\n_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,\nBut to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,\nI'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_\nHave courage to defend me.\n\n_Champ._ Impudent!\n\n_Verd._ And on the sudden--\n\n_Beau._ How are ye", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "am still your fool, and cannot but obey\nWhat ever you command.\n\n_Lamira._ You speak, as if\nYou did repent it, and 'tis not worth my thanks then,\nBut there has been a time, in which you would\nReceive this as a favour.\n\n_Din._ Hope was left then\nOf recompence.\n\n_Lamira._ Why I am still _Lamira_,\nAnd you _Dinant_, and 'tis yet in my power,\nI dare not say I'le put it into act,\nTo", "e:\nMy turn is next,\nI am resolv'd, it comes\nBut in a nobler shape, ha?\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ Blesse ye Lady.\n\n_Lam._ Indeed Sir, I had need of many blessings,\nFor all the hours I have had since I came here,\nHave been so many curses. How got you liberty?\nFor I presume you come to comfort me.\n\n_Din._ To comfort you, and love you, 'tis most true,\nMy bondage was", "\n_Lam._ O _Dinant_!\n\n_Din._ I can but add your sorrows to my sorrows,\nYour fears to my fears.\n\n_Cler._ To your wishes mine,\nThis slave may prove unable to perform,\nTill I perform the task that I was born for.\n\n_Ana._ Amen, amen.\n\n_1 Gent._ Drag the slaves hence, for you\nA while I'le lock you up here, study all ways\nYou can to please me, or the deed being done,\nYou are but dead.", "\n_Lamira._ Why, foolish man,\nDare you solicite me to serve your lust,\nIn which not only I abuse my Lord,\nMy Father, and my family, but write whore,\nThough not upon my forehead, in my conscience,\nTo be read hourly, and yet name your honour?\nYours suffers but in circumstance; mine in substance.\nIf you obey me, you part with some credit,\nFrom whom? the giddy multitude; but mankind\nWill censure me, and justly.\n\n_Din._", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "made suit to enjoy me as your Wife,\nDid you not hold me honest?\n\n_Din._ Yes, most vertuous.\n\n_Lam._ And did not that appear the only lustre\nThat made me worth your love and admiration?\n\n_Din._ I must confess--\n\n_Lam._ Why would you deal so basely?\nSo like a thief, a Villain?\n\n_Din._ Peace, good Madam.\n\n_Lam._ I'll speak aloud too; thus maliciously,\nThus breaking all the", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "reward your love and service.\n\n_Din._ There's some comfort.\n\n_Lami._ But think not that so low I prize my fame,\nTo give it up to any man that refuses\nTo buy it, or with danger of performance\nOf what I shall enjoin him.\n\n_Din._ Name that danger\nBe it of what horrid shape soever Ladie\nWhich I will shrink at; only at this instant\nBe speedie in't.\n\n_Lamira._ I'le put you to the trial:\nYou shall not fight to", "round with sorrow, hell's about me,\nAnd ravishment the least that I can look for,\nDo what you please.\n\n_Din._ Indeed I will do nothing,\nNor touch nor hurt you Lady, nor had ever\nSuch a lewd purpose.\n\n_Lam._ Can there be such goodness,\nAnd in a man so injur'd?\n\n_Din._ Be confirm'd in't.\nI seal it thus: I must confess you vex'd me,\nIn fooling me so often, and those fears\nYou threw upon", "to you\nAlready brands me with a strumpets name.\n\n_Din._ O that I knew the wretch!\n\n_Lamira._ I will not name him,\nNor give you any Character to know him;\nBut if you dare, and instantly ride forth\nAt the west port of the City, and defend there\nMy reputation, against all you meet,\nFor two hours only, I'le not swear _Dinant_,\nTo satisfie, (though sure I think I shall)\nWhat ever you desire, if you denie this,\nBe desperate" ], [ "the Citie.\n\n_Din._ You much honour me.\nIn the demand, I'le gladly wait upon you.\n\n_Beaup._ O Sir you teach me what to say: the time?\n\n_Din._ With the next Sun, if you think fit.\n\n_Beaup._ The place?\n\n_Din._ Near to the vineyard eastward from the Citie.\n\n_Beaup._ I like it well, this Gentleman if you please\nWill keep me company.\n\n_Cler._ That is agreed on;", "And not to praise my self, the City ranks me\nIn the first file of her most hopefull Gentry:\nBut _Champernel_ is rich, and needs a nurse,\nAnd not your gold: and add to that, he's old too,\nHis whole estate in likelihood to descend\nUpon your Family; Here was providence,\nI grant, but in a Nobleman base thrift:\nNo Merchants, nay, no Pirats, sell for Bondmen\nTheir Country-men, but you, a Gentleman,\nTo save a little gold", "hang my bag then, it may save my belly,\nI never lov'd cold Iron there.\n\n_Cler._ You do wisely.\n\n_La-writ._ Help me to pluck my Sword out then, quickly, quickly,\n'Thas not seen Sun these ten years.\n\n_Cler._ How it grumbles!\nThis Sword is vengeance angry.\n\n_La-writ._ Now I'le put my hat up,\nAnd say my prayers as I goe; away boy,\nIf I be kill'd, remember the little Law", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", "red, or my life.\n\n_Cler._ Where was the fault then?\n\n_Din._ The honour of that Lady I adore,\nHer credit, and her name: ye know she sent for me,\nAnd with what haste.\n\n_Cler._ What was he that traduc'd?\n\n_Din._ The man i'th' Moon, I think, hither I was sent,\nBut to what end--\n\n _Enter old_ Lady.\n\n_Cler._ This is a pretty flim-flam.\n\n_O", "as yours, as full of bitterness\nAnd every hour my death.\n\n_Lam._ Heaven was your comfort.\n\n_Din._ Till the last evening, sitting full of sadness,\nWailing, sweet Mistris, your unhappy fortunes,\n(Mine own I had the least care of) round about me\nThe Captain and the company stood gaping,\nWhen I began the story of my love\nTo you fair Saint, and with so full a sorrow,\nFollow'd each point, that even from those rude eyes,\nThat never knew what pity meant", "furnish'd, but demanding\nWhere it was bought, this Souldier will not lie,\nBut answer truly, this rich cloth of Arras\nI made my prize in such a Ship, this Plate\nWas my share in another; these fair Jewels,\nComing a shore, I got in such a Village,\nThe Maid, or Matron kill'd, from whom they were ravish'd,\nThe Wines you drink are guilty too, for this,\nThis _Candie_ Wine, three Merchants were undone,\nThese Suckets break", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "to you\nAlready brands me with a strumpets name.\n\n_Din._ O that I knew the wretch!\n\n_Lamira._ I will not name him,\nNor give you any Character to know him;\nBut if you dare, and instantly ride forth\nAt the west port of the City, and defend there\nMy reputation, against all you meet,\nFor two hours only, I'le not swear _Dinant_,\nTo satisfie, (though sure I think I shall)\nWhat ever you desire, if you denie this,\nBe desperate", "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "from me\nThe fetters she put on; thus her enchantments\nI blow away like wind, no more her beauty--\n\n_Old Lady._ Take heed Sir what you say.\n\n_Cler._ Goe forward, _Dinant_.\n\n_Din._ The charms shot from her eyes--\n\n_Old Lady._ Be wise.\n\n_Cler._ Be Valiant.\n\n_Din._ That tongue that tells fair tales to mens destructions\nShall never rack me more.\n\n_Old Lady._ Stay there.\n\n_Cler._", "had once, to chastise in these men\nTheir folies, and ill manners, and that done,\nWhen you please, I'le yield up the fort of life,\nAnd do it gladly.\n\n_Cler._ We ha' the better of him,\nWe ha' made him cry.\n\n_Verdo._ You shall have satisfaction.\nAnd I will do it nobly, or disclaim me.\n\n_Beaup._ I say no more, you have a Brother, Sister,\nThis is your wedding day, we are in the street,\nAnd", "Cham._ O mine honour.\n\n_Pro._ I have been provost-Marshal twenty years,\nAnd have trussed up a thousand of these rascals,\nBut so near _Paris_ yet I never met with\nOne of that Brotherhood.\n\n_Cham._ We to our cost have,\nBut will you search the wood?\n\n_Pro._ It is beset,\nThey cannot scape us, nothing makes me wonder,\nSo much as having you within their power\nThey let you goe; it was a Courtesy,\nThat French thieves use", "?\nA snail? a Dog?\n\n_La-writ._ No more o' these words Gentleman,\nSweet Gentleman no more, do not provoke me,\nGo walk i'th' horse-fair; whistle Gentleman,\nWhat must I do now?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _pursued by_ Verdone.\n\n_Cler._ Help me, I am almost breathless.\n\n_La-writ._ With all my heart, there's a cold pye for you, Sir.\n\n_", "pis'd again, I have forgot her.\n\n_Cler._ If this be true--\n\n_O. Lady._ I am sorry, I have troubled you,\nMore sorrie, that my Lady has adventur'd\nSo great a favour in so weak a mind:\nThis hour you have refus'd that when you come to know it,\nWill run you mad, and make you curse that fellow,\nShe is not fair, nor handsom, so I leave you.\n\n_Cler._ Stay Lady, stay, but is there such a business?\n\n_", "Beau._ She's still musing, Sister,\nHow quietly her late bed-fellow lay by her.\n\n_Nurse._ Old as I am, he would have startled me,\nNor can you blame her.\n\n_Char._ Had I ta'ne her place,\nI know not, but I fear, I should ha' shreek'd,\nThough he had never offer'd--\n\n_Ana._ Out upon thee,\nThou wouldst have taught him.\n\n_Char._ I think, with your pardon,\nThat", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "Bell-founding?\nSend in your witnesses, what will you have me do?\nWill you have me break my heart? my brains are melted;\nAnd tell your Master, as I am a Gentleman,\nHis Cause shall be the first, commend me to your Mistris,\nAnd tell her, if there be an extraordinary feather,\nAnd tall enough for her--I shall dispatch you too,\nI know your cause, for transporting of Farthingales\nTrouble me no more, I say again to you,\nNo more vexation: bid my wife", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "to me,\nTo 'noint my beaten body.\n\n_Sam._ It concerns you,\nYou have been swing'd.\n\n_La-writ._ Let it concern thee too;\nGoe and be beaten, speak scurvy words, as I did,\nSpeak to that Lion Lord, waken his anger,\nAnd have a hundred Bastinado's, doe;\nThree broken pates, thy teeth knockt out, do _Sampson_,\nThy valiant arms and leggs beaten to Poultesses,\nDo silly _S" ], [ "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "buy them of us,\nBegin now to detest them.\n\n_Din._ Will you end yet--\n\n_Cler._ And I have heard that some of our late Kings,\nFor the lie, wearing of a Mistris favour,\nA cheat at Cards or Dice, and such like causes,\nHave lost as many gallant Gentlemen,\nAs might have met the great _Turk_ in the field\nWith confidence of a glorious Victorie,\nAnd shall we then--\n\n_Din._ No more, for shame no more,\nAre you", "? thou art so sullen--\n\n_Din._ And shall be, till I have a fair reparation.\n\n_Cler._ I have more reason, for I scaped a fortune,\nWhich if I come so near again: I say nothing,\nBut if I sweat not in another fashion--\nO, a delicate Wench.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis certain a most handsome one.\n\n_Cler._ And me thought the thing was angry with it self too\nIt lay so long conceal'd, but I must part with you,\nI have", "me call'd for a requital,\nWhich now I have return'd, all unchast love\n_Dinant_ thus throws away; live to man-kind,\nAs you have done to me, and I will honour\nYour vertue, and no more think of your beauty.\n\n_Lam._ All I possess, comes short of satisfaction.\n\n_Din._ No complements: the terrours of this night\nImagine but a fearfull dream, and so\nWith ease forget it: for _Dinant_, that labour'd\nTo blast your honour,", "e:\nMy turn is next,\nI am resolv'd, it comes\nBut in a nobler shape, ha?\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ Blesse ye Lady.\n\n_Lam._ Indeed Sir, I had need of many blessings,\nFor all the hours I have had since I came here,\nHave been so many curses. How got you liberty?\nFor I presume you come to comfort me.\n\n_Din._ To comfort you, and love you, 'tis most true,\nMy bondage was", "from me\nThe fetters she put on; thus her enchantments\nI blow away like wind, no more her beauty--\n\n_Old Lady._ Take heed Sir what you say.\n\n_Cler._ Goe forward, _Dinant_.\n\n_Din._ The charms shot from her eyes--\n\n_Old Lady._ Be wise.\n\n_Cler._ Be Valiant.\n\n_Din._ That tongue that tells fair tales to mens destructions\nShall never rack me more.\n\n_Old Lady._ Stay there.\n\n_Cler._", "Scene_ France.\n\n\nThe principal Actors were,\n\n_Joseph Taylor._\n\n_John Lowin._\n\n_John Underwood._\n\n_Robert Benfield._\n\n_Nicholas Toolie._\n\n_William Egleston._\n\n_Richard Sharpe._\n\n_Thomas Holcomb._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Primus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _a[n]d_ Cleremont.\n\n_Din._ Disswade me", "na._ As you ever hope\nFor what I would give gladly--\n\n_Cler._ Pretty conjurations.\n\n_Lam._ All injuries a little laid behind you.\n\n_Ana._ Shew your selves men, and help us.\n\n_Din._ Though your many\nAnd gross abuses of me should more move me\nTo triumph in your miseries than relieve you,--\nYet that hereafter you may know that I\nThe scorn'd and despis'd _Dinant_, know what does\nBelong to honour, thus--\n", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "Husband!\n\n_Ana._ O my _Cleremont_!\n\n_1 Gent._ Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth\nAs they are chain'd together, let them see\nAnd suffer in the object.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont, _bound by the rest of the\n Gent_.\n\n_2 Gent._ While we sit\nAnd without pity hear 'em.\n\n_Cler._ By my life,\nI suffer more for thee than for my self.\n\n_Din._", "_Din._ And should he call me to account for what\nBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honour\nRecant my words, that little hope is left me,\nE're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,\nIs taken from me.\n\n_Cer._ Why what can you hope for,\nShe being now married?\n\n_Din._ Oh my _Cleremont_,\nTo you all secrets of my heart lye open,\nAnd I rest most secure that whatsoe're\nI lock up there, is as a private", "?\n\n_Din._ I do not think so,\nAnd I repent.\n\n_Lam._ That will not serve your turn, Sir.\n\n_Din._ It was your treaty drew me on.\n\n_Lam._ But it was your villany\nMade you pursue it; I drew you but to try\nHow much a man, and nobly thou durst stand,\nHow well you had deserv'd the name of vertuous;\nBut you like a wild torrent, mix'd with all\nBeastly and base affections came floating" ], [ "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", "If he pray, praying, _ipso facto_, praying,\nYour honourable way admits no prayer,\nAnd if he fight, he falls, there's his _quietus_.\n\n_Gent._ Y'are nobly punctual, let's retire and meet 'em,\nBut still, I say, have mercy.\n\n_Samp._ I say, honour. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Lamira, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone,\n Charlote _and a Serv", "am a Rascal.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira, Anabel,\n Cleremont, _and two Servants_.\n\n_Din._ I am amaz'd too.\n\n_Beaup._ We'll recover you.\n\n_Verd._ You walk like _Robin-good-fellow_ all the house over,\nAnd every man afraid of you.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis well, Lady;\nThe honour of this deed will be your own,\nThe world", "still pretended to\nlove_ Lamira.\n\nCleremont, _a merry Gentleman, his Friend._\n\nChampernell, _a lame old Gentleman, Husband to_ Lamira.\n\nVertaign, _a Noble-man, and a Judge._\n\nBeaupre, _Son to_ Vertaign.\n\nVerdone, _Nephew to_ Champernell.\n\n_Monsieur_ La Writt, _a wrangling Advocate, or the Little\nLawyer._\n\nS", "_Beau._ That, as you please, Sir.\n\n_Charl._ You have won the breeches, Madam, look up sweetly,\nMy Lord limps toward you.\n\n_Lam._ You will learn more manners.\n\n_Charl._ This is a fee, for counsel that's unask'd for.\n\n_Cham._ Come, I mistook thee sweet, prethee forgive me,\nI never will be jealous: e're I cherish\nSuch a mechanick humour, I'le be nothing;\nI'le", "is a Champion for it,\nAnd will protect and guard it.\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis as safe then,\nAs if a compleat Army undertook it. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ La-writ, Sampson, _Clyents._\n\n_La-writ._ Do not perswade me gentle Monsieur _Sampson_,\nI am a mortal man again, a Lawyer,\nMy martiall part I have put off.\n\n_Sam._ Sweet Monsieur,\nLet but our honours teach us.", "such a friend to truth,\nI cannot hear this: why do you detract\nThus poorly (I should say to others basely)\nFrom one of such approv'd worth?\n\n_Cham._ Ha! how's this?\n\n_Lam._ From one so excellent in all that's noble,\nWhose only weakness is excess of courage?\nThat knows no enemies, that he cannot master,\nBut his affections, and in them, the worst\nHis love to me.\n\n_Cham._ To you?\n\n_Lam._ Yes,", "To make you merry, this poor simple fellow\nHas met the maid again, and now she knows\nHe is a man.\n\n_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?\n\n_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable,\nHeaven is a witness of our happy contract,\nAnd the next Priest we meet shall warrant it\nTo all the world: I lay with her in jeast,\n'Tis turn'd to earnest now.\n\n_Cham._ Is this true, Niece?\n\n_Din._ Her blushing silence grants", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "it; nay Sir storm not,\nHe is my friend, and I can make this good,\nHis birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship\nMight have sought out a worse, we are all friends too,\nAll differences end thus. Now Sir, unless\nYou would raise new dissentions, make perfect\nWhat is so well begun.\n\n_Vert._ That were not manly.\n\n_Lam._ Let me perswade you.\n\n_Cham._ Well God give you joy,\nShe shall not come a Begger to you Sir.\nFor you Mons", "Pultess, and endure the scent\nOf oils, and nasty Plasters.\n\n_Verta._ Fie Sir, fie,\nYou that have stood all dangers of all kinds, to\nYield to a Rivalls scoffe?\n\n_Lamira._ Shed tears upon\nYour Wedding day? this is unmanly Gentlemen.\n\n_Champ._ They are tears of anger: O that I should live\nTo play the woman thus! All powerfull heaven,\nRestore me, but one hour, that strength again,\nThat I", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "had once, to chastise in these men\nTheir folies, and ill manners, and that done,\nWhen you please, I'le yield up the fort of life,\nAnd do it gladly.\n\n_Cler._ We ha' the better of him,\nWe ha' made him cry.\n\n_Verdo._ You shall have satisfaction.\nAnd I will do it nobly, or disclaim me.\n\n_Beaup._ I say no more, you have a Brother, Sister,\nThis is your wedding day, we are in the street,\nAnd", "?\n\n_Lam._ With what you cannot answer,\n'Twas my command that staid him.\n\n_Cham._ Your command?\n\n_Lam._ Mine, Sir, and had my will rank'd with my power,\nAnd his obedience, I could have sent him\nWith more ease, weaponless to you, and bound,\nThan have kept him back, so well he loves his honour\nBeyond his life.\n\n_Cham._ Better, and better still.\n\n_Lam._ I wrought with him in private to divert him", "me,\nBut my reward for this--\n\n_Cler._ As you deserv'd,\nFor he that makes a goddess of a Puppet,\nMerits no other recompence.\n\n_Din._ This day friend,\nFor thou art so--\n\n_Cler._ I am no flatterer.\n\n_Din._ This proud, ingratefull she, is married to\nLame _Champernel_.\n\n_Cler._ I know him, he has been\nAs tall a Sea-man, and has thriv'd as", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "Cham._ O mine honour.\n\n_Pro._ I have been provost-Marshal twenty years,\nAnd have trussed up a thousand of these rascals,\nBut so near _Paris_ yet I never met with\nOne of that Brotherhood.\n\n_Cham._ We to our cost have,\nBut will you search the wood?\n\n_Pro._ It is beset,\nThey cannot scape us, nothing makes me wonder,\nSo much as having you within their power\nThey let you goe; it was a Courtesy,\nThat French thieves use", "ampson_, do.\n\n_1 Cly._ You wrong the Gentleman,\nTo put him out of his right mind thus:\nYou wrong us, and our Causes.\n\n_La-writ._ Down with him Gentlemen,\nTurn him, and beat him, if he break our peace,\nThen when thou hast been Lam'd, thy small guts perisht,\nThen talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel,\nFeel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.\n\n_Sam._ And can the brave _La-writ_", "the first place holds, the second Love. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, Charlote.\n\n_Lami._ Sleeps my Lord still, _Charlote_?\n\n_Char._ Not to be wak'd.\nBy your Ladiships cheerfull looks I well perceive\nThat this night the good Lord hath been\nAt an unusual service, and no wonder\nIf he rest after it.\n\n_Lamira._ You are very bold.\n\n_Char._ Your Creature Madam, and when you are pleas" ], [ ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", ",\nI shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,\nAnd stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._\nShe may be, and she may not, now to my observation.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.\n\n_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--\n\n_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.\n\n_Din._ Why do you shift thus\nFrom one Chamber to another?\n\n_Lam._ A little delay, Sir,", "\n\n_Din._ But for his Beard--\n\n_Lam._ To cover that you shall have my night Linnen,\nAnd you dispos'd of, my _Dinant_ and I\nWill have some private conference.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, _privately_.\n\n_Cler._ Private doing,\nOr I'll not venture.\n\n_Lam._ That's as we agree. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter Nurse, and_ Charlotte, _pass over the Stage with\n Pillows", "\nIf I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,\nOr curb me of that freedom you once gave me--\n\n_Cham._ What then?\n\n_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,\nBut to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,\nI'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_\nHave courage to defend me.\n\n_Champ._ Impudent!\n\n_Verd._ And on the sudden--\n\n_Beau._ How are ye", "A hunting Nag, well breath'd too.\n\n_Din._ All this while,\nYou ne'r think on the danger.\n\n_Cler._ Why 'tis no more\nThan meeting of a dozen friends at Supper,\nAnd drinking hard; mischief comes there unlook'd for,\nI am sure as suddain, and strikes home as often,\nFor this we are prepar'd.\n\n_Din._ _Lamira_ Loves\nHer Brother _Beaupre_ dearly.\n\n_Cler._ What of that?\n\n", "--\n\n _Enter Nurse with Wine._\n\n_Din._ What's this?\n\n_Lam._ Wine, Wine, a draught or two.\n\n_Din._ What does this Woman here?\n\n_Lam._ She shall not hinder you.\n\n_Din._ This might have been spar'd,\n'Tis but delay and time lost; pray send her softly off.\n\n_Lam._ Sit down, and mix your spirits with Wine,\nI will make you another _Hercules_.\n", "\n_Lam._ O _Dinant_!\n\n_Din._ I can but add your sorrows to my sorrows,\nYour fears to my fears.\n\n_Cler._ To your wishes mine,\nThis slave may prove unable to perform,\nTill I perform the task that I was born for.\n\n_Ana._ Amen, amen.\n\n_1 Gent._ Drag the slaves hence, for you\nA while I'le lock you up here, study all ways\nYou can to please me, or the deed being done,\nYou are but dead.", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "e:\nMy turn is next,\nI am resolv'd, it comes\nBut in a nobler shape, ha?\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ Blesse ye Lady.\n\n_Lam._ Indeed Sir, I had need of many blessings,\nFor all the hours I have had since I came here,\nHave been so many curses. How got you liberty?\nFor I presume you come to comfort me.\n\n_Din._ To comfort you, and love you, 'tis most true,\nMy bondage was", "me call'd for a requital,\nWhich now I have return'd, all unchast love\n_Dinant_ thus throws away; live to man-kind,\nAs you have done to me, and I will honour\nYour vertue, and no more think of your beauty.\n\n_Lam._ All I possess, comes short of satisfaction.\n\n_Din._ No complements: the terrours of this night\nImagine but a fearfull dream, and so\nWith ease forget it: for _Dinant_, that labour'd\nTo blast your honour,", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", ".\n\n_Lam._ As you respect our lives, speak not so loud.\n\n_Cler._ Why, do it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd.\n\n_Lam._ Be not so hasty, Sir, the golden Apples\nHad a fell Dragon for their Guard, your pleasures\nAre to be attempted with _Herculean_ danger,\nOr never to be gotten.\n\n_Din._ Speak the means.\n\n_Lam._ Thus briefly, my Lord sleeps now, and alas,\nEach Night, he", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "am a Rascal.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira, Anabel,\n Cleremont, _and two Servants_.\n\n_Din._ I am amaz'd too.\n\n_Beaup._ We'll recover you.\n\n_Verd._ You walk like _Robin-good-fellow_ all the house over,\nAnd every man afraid of you.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis well, Lady;\nThe honour of this deed will be your own,\nThe world" ], [ "his honour\nA firm and worthy Friend, yet I see nothing,\nNor Horse nor man, 'twould vex me to be left here,\nTo th' mercy of two swords, and two approv'd ones.\nI never knew him last.\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre, _and_ Verdone.\n\n_Beaup._ You are well met _Cleremont_.\n\n_Verdo._ You are a fair Gentleman, and love your friend Sir.\nWhat are you ready? the time has overta'ne us.\n\n_", "Cler._ Ye shall fight Gentlemen,\nAnd fight enough, but a short turn or two,\nI think I see him, set up your watch, we'l fight by it.\n\n_Beaup._ That is not he; we will not be deluded.\n\n_Cler._ Am I bob'd thus? pray take a pipe of tobacco,\nOr sing but some new air; by that time, Gentlemen--\n\n_Verd._ Come draw your Sword, you know the custome here Sir,\nFirst come, first serv'd.\n\n_", ", _Dinant_, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.\nAs you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.\nI want a Second now to meet these gallants,\nYou know what honour is.\n\n_1 Gent._ Sir you must pardon us,\nWe goe about the same work, you are ready for;\nAnd must fight presently, else we were your servants.\n\n_2 Gent._ God speed you, and good day. [_Exit_ Gent.\n\n_Cler._ Am I thus Colted?\n\n_Be", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "Cler._ Though it be held a custom,\nAnd practised so, I do not hold it honest;\nWhat honour can you both win on me single?\n\n_Beaup._ Yield up your Sword then.\n\n_Cler._ Yield my Sword? that's Hebrew;\nI'le be first cut a p[iec]es; hold but a while,\nI'le take the next that comes.\n\n _Enter an old_ Gentleman.\n\nYou are an old Gentleman?\n\n_Gent._ Yes indeed am", "\n_Verd._ 'Tis but a fortune,\nWe shall yet find an hour. [_Ex._ Beau. Verd. _sad_.\n\n_Cler._ I shall be glad on't.\n\n_La-writ._ Where's my cloak, and my trinkets?\nOr will you fight any longer, for a crash or two?\n\n_Cler._ I am your noble friend, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ It may be so.\n\n_Cler._ What honour shall I do you,\nFor this great courtes", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "\nSo dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannot\nEndure to see her tears. [_Exeunt_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Champ._ See you perform it,\nAnd do it like my Nephew.\n\n_Verdo._ If I fail in't\nNe'r know me more, Cousin _Beaupre_.\n\n_Champ._ Repent not\nWhat thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not find\nI am decrepit; in my love and service,\nI will be young", "more of this. Judge now,\nWhether I have the gift of prophecie.\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre, _and_ Verdone.\n\n_Beaup._ Monsieur _Dinant_,\nI am glad to find you, Sir.\n\n_Din._ I am at your service.\n\n_Verd._ Good Monsieur _Cleremont_, I have long wish'd\nTo be known better to you.\n\n_Cler._ My desires\nEmbrace your wishes Sir.\n\n_Beaup._ Sir, I have ever\n", "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", "yer. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre.\n\n_Beaup._ They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,\nTake you that ground,\n\n _Enter_ La-writ.\n\nI'le stay here, fight bravely.\n\n_La-writ._ To't chearfully my boyes, you'l let's have fair play,\nNone of your foyning tricks.\n\n_Beaup._ Come forward Monsieur; [_Fight._\nWhat hast", "._ Peace to your grief, I bind you to your word.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone, Charlote,\n _Nurse, the two Gentlemen._\n\n_Lam._ How? do you conjure?\n\n_Din._ Not to raise dreadfull apparitions, Madam,\nBut such as you would gladly see.\n\n_Lam._ My Brother, and nephew living?\n\n_Beau._ And both owe their lives\nTo the favour of these Gentlemen.\n\n_", "'s all one,\nWe'll dispatch within this quarter, there in that bottom,\n'Tis most convenient Gentlemen.\n\n_Beaup._ Well, we'll wait, Sir.\n\n_Verd._ Why this will be a comick fight, you'l follow.\n\n_La-writ._ As I am a true man, I cannot fight.\n [_Ex._ Beaupre, Verdone.\n\n_Cler._ Away, away,\nI know you can: I like your modesty,\nI know you will fight and", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "do what I can, and then--\n\n_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.\n\n_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?\nAnd because I was honourably employed in action,\nAnd not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,\n'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cl", "friend, Sir: _Dinant_ you draw your sword\nUpon the Gentleman preserv'd your honour:\nThis was my second, and did back me nobly,\nFor shame forbear.\n\n_Din._ I ask your mercy, Sir, and am your servant now.\n\n_La-writ._ May we not fight then?\n\n_Cler._ I am sure you shall not now.\n\n_La-wr._ I am sorry for't, I am sure I'le stay no longer then,\nNot a jot longer: are there any more on", "the Citie.\n\n_Din._ You much honour me.\nIn the demand, I'le gladly wait upon you.\n\n_Beaup._ O Sir you teach me what to say: the time?\n\n_Din._ With the next Sun, if you think fit.\n\n_Beaup._ The place?\n\n_Din._ Near to the vineyard eastward from the Citie.\n\n_Beaup._ I like it well, this Gentleman if you please\nWill keep me company.\n\n_Cler._ That is agreed on;", "\nAnd in my friends behalf I will attend him.\n\n_Verd._ You shall not miss my service.\n\n_Beaup._ Good day Gentlemen. [_Ex._ Beaup. _and_ Verd.\n\n_Din._ At your Commandment.\n\n_Cler._ Proud to be your servants.\nI think there is no Nation under Heaven\nThat cut their enemies throats with complement,\nAnd such fine tricks as we do: If you have\nAny few Prayers to say, this night you may\nCall 'em to mind and use '", "more mercy,\nThe Gentleman may do his Country--\n\n_Cler._ Now I beseech you, Sir,\nIf you dare not fight, do not stay to beg my pardon.\nThere lies your way.\n\n_Gent._ Good morrow Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verd._ You see your fortune,\nYou had better yield your Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Pray ye stay a little.\n\n _Enter two_ Gentlemen.\n\nUpon mine honestie, you shall be fought with;\nWell" ], [ ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "_Din._ And should he call me to account for what\nBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honour\nRecant my words, that little hope is left me,\nE're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,\nIs taken from me.\n\n_Cer._ Why what can you hope for,\nShe being now married?\n\n_Din._ Oh my _Cleremont_,\nTo you all secrets of my heart lye open,\nAnd I rest most secure that whatsoe're\nI lock up there, is as a private", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee", "Lam._ 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.\n\n_Cler._ Would you had done too,\nYou know not\nIn what a misery and fear I lye.\nYou have a Lady in your arms.\n\n_Din._ I would have-- [_The Recorders again._\n\n_Champ._ I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.\n\n_Cler._ Remove for Heavens sake,\nAnd fall to that you come for.\n\n_Lam._ Lie you down,\n", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "\n_Cler._ And my fine cold virgin,\nThat was insensible of man, and woman?\n\n_Din._ Justice too,\nWithout a sword to guard it self?\n\n_Cler._ And valour with its hands bound?\n\n_Din._ And the great Souldier dull?\nWhy this is strange.\n\n_Lam._ _Dinant_ as thou art noble--\n\n_Ana._ As thou art valiant _Cleremont_--\n\n_Lam._ As ever I appear'd lovely--\n\n_A", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "only sleeps.\n\n_Cler._ Go, keep her stirring.\n\n_Lam._ Now if he 'wake, as sometimes he does,\nHe only stretches out his hand and feels,\nWhether I am a bed, which being assur'd of,\nHe sleeps again; but should he miss me, Valour\nCould not defend our lives.\n\n_Din._ What's to be done then?\n\n_Lam._ Servants have servile faiths, nor have I any\nThat I dare trust; on noble _Cleremont_", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "To make you merry, this poor simple fellow\nHas met the maid again, and now she knows\nHe is a man.\n\n_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?\n\n_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable,\nHeaven is a witness of our happy contract,\nAnd the next Priest we meet shall warrant it\nTo all the world: I lay with her in jeast,\n'Tis turn'd to earnest now.\n\n_Cham._ Is this true, Niece?\n\n_Din._ Her blushing silence grants", "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", ".\n\n_Lam._ As you respect our lives, speak not so loud.\n\n_Cler._ Why, do it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd.\n\n_Lam._ Be not so hasty, Sir, the golden Apples\nHad a fell Dragon for their Guard, your pleasures\nAre to be attempted with _Herculean_ danger,\nOr never to be gotten.\n\n_Din._ Speak the means.\n\n_Lam._ Thus briefly, my Lord sleeps now, and alas,\nEach Night, he", "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", "'d\nSadness to me's a stranger, your good pardon\nIf I speak like a fool, I could have wisht\nTo have ta'ne your place to night, had bold _Dinant_\nYour first and most obsequious servant tasted\nThose delicates, which by his lethargie\nAs it appears, have cloy'd my Lord.\n\n_Lamira._ No, more.\n\n_Char._ I am silenc'd, Madam.\n\n_Lamira._ Saw you my nurse this morning?\n\n_", "Husband!\n\n_Ana._ O my _Cleremont_!\n\n_1 Gent._ Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth\nAs they are chain'd together, let them see\nAnd suffer in the object.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont, _bound by the rest of the\n Gent_.\n\n_2 Gent._ While we sit\nAnd without pity hear 'em.\n\n_Cler._ By my life,\nI suffer more for thee than for my self.\n\n_Din._" ], [ "Anabel_ are in one night,\nFamiliarly acquainted.\n\n_Nur._ I observe it,\nIf she have got a penny too.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, _and_ Provost.\n\n_Charl._ No more,\nMy Lord Monsieur _Vertaigne_, the provost too,\nHaste and acquaint my Lady. [_Ex._ Nur. _and_ Char.\n\n_Pro._ Wonderous strange.\n\n_Vert._ 'Tis true Sir, on my credit.\n\n_", "But fear nothing, all shall be well, away quickly\nIt must be done i'th' moment or--\n\n_Ana._ I am with ye.\n\n_Cler._ I'le know now who sleeps by me, keep your standing.\n [_Ex._ Cler. _and_ Anabel.\n\n_Lam._ Well, go thy way, and thine own shame dwell with thee.\nIs this the constancy she shew'd, the bravery?\nThe dear love and the life she ow'd her kinsmen?\n", "If he pray, praying, _ipso facto_, praying,\nYour honourable way admits no prayer,\nAnd if he fight, he falls, there's his _quietus_.\n\n_Gent._ Y'are nobly punctual, let's retire and meet 'em,\nBut still, I say, have mercy.\n\n_Samp._ I say, honour. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Lamira, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone,\n Charlote _and a Serv", "\nWith prayers and tears.\n\n_1 Gent._ I like this humble carriage,\nI will walk by, but kneel you still and weep too,\nIt shews well, while I meditate on the prey,\nBefore I seize it.\n\n_Lam._ Is there no mercie, Heaven?\n\n _Enter second_ Gent. _and_ Anabel.\n\n_2 Gent._ Not kiss you?\nI will kiss and kiss again.\n\n_Ana._ Savage villain!\nMy Innocence be my strength, I do defie the", "nel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira,\n Annabel, Charlote, _Nurse_.\n\n_Verta._ Use legs, and have legs.\n\n_Cham._ You that have legs say so,\nI put my one to too much stress.\n\n_Verdo._ Your Horse, Sir,\nWill meet you within half a mile.\n\n_Lam._ I like\nThe walk so well, I should not miss my Coach,\nThough it were further. _Annabel_ thou art sad:\nWhat ails my Niece?\n\n_", "._ Peace to your grief, I bind you to your word.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone, Charlote,\n _Nurse, the two Gentlemen._\n\n_Lam._ How? do you conjure?\n\n_Din._ Not to raise dreadfull apparitions, Madam,\nBut such as you would gladly see.\n\n_Lam._ My Brother, and nephew living?\n\n_Beau._ And both owe their lives\nTo the favour of these Gentlemen.\n\n_", "ira _and_\nAnabel _were shut, they in all fear_.\n\n_Lam._ O Cousin how I shake all this long night!\nWhat frights and noises we have heard, still they encrease,\nThe villains put on shapes to torture us,\nAnd to their Devils form such preparations\nAs if they were a hatching new dishonours,\nAnd fatal ruine, past dull mans invention.\nGoe not too far, and pray good Cousin _Anabel_,\nHark a new noise. [_A strange Mus", ", they say fair,\nAnd you are young and handsome, Gentlemen;\nHave you any more mind to Wenches?\n\n_Cler._ To be abus'd too? Lady, you might have help'd this.\n\n_Ana._ Sir now 'tis past, but 't may be I may stand\nYour friend hereafter, in a greater matter.\n\n_Cler._ Never whilst you live.\n\n_Ana._ You cannot tell--now, Sir, a parting hand.\n\n_Cler._ Down and Roses:\nWell I", "Beau._ She's still musing, Sister,\nHow quietly her late bed-fellow lay by her.\n\n_Nurse._ Old as I am, he would have startled me,\nNor can you blame her.\n\n_Char._ Had I ta'ne her place,\nI know not, but I fear, I should ha' shreek'd,\nThough he had never offer'd--\n\n_Ana._ Out upon thee,\nThou wouldst have taught him.\n\n_Char._ I think, with your pardon,\nThat", "am a Rascal.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira, Anabel,\n Cleremont, _and two Servants_.\n\n_Din._ I am amaz'd too.\n\n_Beaup._ We'll recover you.\n\n_Verd._ You walk like _Robin-good-fellow_ all the house over,\nAnd every man afraid of you.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis well, Lady;\nThe honour of this deed will be your own,\nThe world", "in you?\n_Cleremont_, we are betrayed, betrayed, sold by a woman;\nDeal bravely for thy self.\n\n_Cler._ This comes of rutting;\nAre we made stales to one another?\n\n_Din._ Yes, we are undone, lost.\n\n_Cler._ You shall pay for't grey-beard.\nUp, up, you sleep your last else. {_Lights above, two Servants\n {and_ Anabel.\n_1 Serv._ No, not yet", "Husband!\n\n_Ana._ O my _Cleremont_!\n\n_1 Gent._ Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth\nAs they are chain'd together, let them see\nAnd suffer in the object.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont, _bound by the rest of the\n Gent_.\n\n_2 Gent._ While we sit\nAnd without pity hear 'em.\n\n_Cler._ By my life,\nI suffer more for thee than for my self.\n\n_Din._", "\n_Ana._ You are a fool, what we cannot resist,\nWhy should we grieve and blush for? there be women,\nAnd they that bear the name of excellent women\nWould give their whole estates to meet this fortune.\n\n_Lam._ Hark, a new noise. [_New sound within._\n\n_Ana._ Let 'em goe on, I fear not,\nIf wrangling, fighting and scratching cannot preserve me,\nWhy so be it Cousin; if I be ordain'd\nTo breed a race of rogues", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La", "ath been noble,\nFar from all violence.\n\n_Cham._ How were you freed?\nBut kiss me first, we'l talk of that at leasure,\nI am glad I have thee; Niece how you keep off,\nAs you knew me not?\n\n_Ana._ Sir, I am where\nI owe most duty.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis indeed most true Sir,\nThe man that should have been your bedfellow\nYour Lordships bedfellow, that could not smell out\nA Virgin of sixteen, that was your fool,\n", "heat.--\n\n_Cler._ Rise Lady\nAnd fearless rise, there's no dishonour meant you,\nDo you know my tongue?\n\n_Ana._ I have heard it.\n\n_Cler._ Mark it better,\nI am one that loves you, fairly, nobly loves you,\nLook on my face?\n\n_Ana._ O Sir?\n\n_Cler._ No more words, softly\nHark, but hark wisely how, understand well,\nSuspect not, fear not.\n\n_Ana._ You have", "thee a Beast,\nCall on for the encounter.\n\n_2 Gent._ Now what think you? [_Throws her and taks her Knife._\nAre you a Goddess?\n\n_Ana._ In me their power suffers,\nThat should protect the Innocent.\n\n_1 Gent._ I am all fire,\nAnd thou shall quench it, and serve my pleasures.\nCome partner in the spoil and the reward,\nLet us enjoy our purchase.\n\n_Lam._ O _Dinant_!\nO Heaven! O", "How we are to proceed.\n\n_2 Gent._ We are instructed. [_Still Musick within._\n\n_1 Gent._ One strain or two more. [_Gent. off._\n\n _Enter_ Vertaigne, Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira,\n Anabel, _Nurse_, Charlote.\n\nExcellent, they are come.\n\n_Nurse._ We cannot miss, in such a business, yet\nMine ear ne'r fail'd me. [_Mus", "pis'd again, I have forgot her.\n\n_Cler._ If this be true--\n\n_O. Lady._ I am sorry, I have troubled you,\nMore sorrie, that my Lady has adventur'd\nSo great a favour in so weak a mind:\nThis hour you have refus'd that when you come to know it,\nWill run you mad, and make you curse that fellow,\nShe is not fair, nor handsom, so I leave you.\n\n_Cler._ Stay Lady, stay, but is there such a business?\n\n_", "from me\nThe fetters she put on; thus her enchantments\nI blow away like wind, no more her beauty--\n\n_Old Lady._ Take heed Sir what you say.\n\n_Cler._ Goe forward, _Dinant_.\n\n_Din._ The charms shot from her eyes--\n\n_Old Lady._ Be wise.\n\n_Cler._ Be Valiant.\n\n_Din._ That tongue that tells fair tales to mens destructions\nShall never rack me more.\n\n_Old Lady._ Stay there.\n\n_Cler._" ], [ "there, be short, and let me hear it,\nAnd pay your Fees.\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith, Sir, I have a business,\nBut it depends upon no Parliament.\n\n_La-writ._ I have no skill in't then.\n\n_Cler._ I must desire you,\n'Tis a Sword matter, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I am no Cutler,\nI am an Advocate, Sir.\n\n_Beaup._ How the thing looks?\n\n_Verd._ When he brings him to fight", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "am._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken,\nAnd your litigious blood about your ears sirra,\nWhy do you fight and snarle?\n\n_La-writ._ I was possest.\n\n_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.\n\n_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.\n\n_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_\n\n_Verta._ Beat him no more.\n", "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", ".\n\n_Cler._ Be not so hastie,\nYou wear a good Sword.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not that,\nI never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--\n\n_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part\nAgainst these Gentlemen, I want a second;\nYe seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.\n\n_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.\n\n_Cler._ You that breed quarels", "fail--\n\n_Cham._ Thou saiest too true, we all talk.\nBut let's in, and prepare, and after dinner\nBegin our mirthful pilgrimage.\n\n_Lam._ He that's sad,\nA crab-face'd Mistris cleave to him for this year. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _and_ La-writ.\n\n_La-writ._ Since it cannot be the Judge--\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis a great deal better.\n\n", ", he's no Sword-man, Sir.\n\n_La-w._ Let him learn, let him learn,\nTime, that trains Chickens up, will teach him quickly.\n\n_Cler._ Why, he's a Judge, an Old Man.\n\n_La-w._ Never too Old\nTo be a Gentleman; and he that is a Judge\nCan judge best what belongs to wounded honour.\nThere are my griefs, he has cast away my causes,\nIn which he has bowed my reputation.\nAnd therefore Judge, or no Judge.\n", "--\n\n_2 Cly._ Tempt him no further,\nBe warn'd and say no more.\n\n_La-writ._ If thou doest, _Sampson_,\nThou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose,\nThat in a moment--\n\n_Sam._ I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish--\n\n_La-writ._ They shall destroy thee wishing;\nThere's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes,\nDearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou", "so fight, with such metal,\nAnd with such judgement meet your enemies fury;\nI see it in your eye, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I'le be hang'd then;\nAnd I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.\n\n_Cler._ I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,\nWhich if you do not quickly, I begin with you,\nI'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?\nSweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.\n\n_La-", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "am._ What advocate?\n\n_Verta._ The little advocate that sent me a challenge,\nI told you that my Nephew undertook it,\nAnd what 'twas like to prove: now you see the issue.\n\n_Cham._ Is this the little Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ You have a sword Sir,\nAnd I have none, you have a doublet too\nThat keeps you warm, and makes you merry.\n\n_Sam._ If your Lordship knew\nThe nature, and the nobleness of the Gentleman,\nThough he", "you can, Sir.\n\n_Sam._ Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's _La-writ_?\nWhere's your sufficient Lawyer?\n\n_1 Cly._ He's blown up, Sir.\n\n_2 Cly._ Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets;\nHe is no Lawyer of this world now.\n\n_Sam._ Your reason?\nIs he defunct? is he dead?\n\n_2 Cly._ No he's not dead yet, Sir;\nBut I would be loth", "-writ._ Not; to abuse her honour, is impossible.\n\n_Din._ Certain this is the rascal: What's thy name?\n\n_La-writ._ My name is _Cock o' two_, use me respectively,\nI will be Cock of three else.\n\n_Din._ What's all this?\nYou say, you did abuse a Lady.\n\n_La-writ._ You ly.\n\n_Din._ And that you wrong'd her honour.\n\n_La-writ._ That's two lyes,\nSpeak suddenly", "do what I can, and then--\n\n_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.\n\n_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?\nAnd because I was honourably employed in action,\nAnd not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,\n'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cl", "ing's my occupation\nIf you find your selves aggriev'd.\n\n_Sam._ A compleat Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Avant thou buckram budget of petitions,\nThou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee,\nAnd till revenge be taken--\n\n_Sam._ 'Tis most excellent.\n\n_La-wr._ There, every man chuse his paper, and his place.\nI'le answer ye all, I will neglect no mans business\nBut he shall have satisfaction like a Gentle", "Exeunt._\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ Sampson, _and three Clients_.\n\n_Samp._ I know Monsieur _La-writ_.\n\n_1 Cly._ Would he knew himself, Sir.\n\n_Samp._ He was a pretty Lawyer, a kind of pretty Lawyer,\nOf a kind of unable thing.\n\n_2 Cly._ A fine Lawyer, Sir,\nAnd would have firk'd you up a business,\nAnd out of this Court into that.\n\n_Samp._ Ye are too forward\nNot so fine", "\n\n_La-writ._ Baffled in way of business,\nMy causes cast away, Judgement against us?\nWhy there it goes.\n\n_2 Cly._ What shall we do the whilst Sir?\n\n_La-wr._ Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves\n'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.\n\n_1 Cli._ Do you hear what he saies Sir?\n\n_Sam._ The Gentleman speaks finely.\n\n_La-wr._ Will any of you fight? Fight", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La" ], [ "yer. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre.\n\n_Beaup._ They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,\nTake you that ground,\n\n _Enter_ La-writ.\n\nI'le stay here, fight bravely.\n\n_La-writ._ To't chearfully my boyes, you'l let's have fair play,\nNone of your foyning tricks.\n\n_Beaup._ Come forward Monsieur; [_Fight._\nWhat hast", "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "thou there? a pudding in thy belly?\nI shall see what it holds.\n\n_La-writ._ Put your spoon home then:\nNay, since I must fight, have at you without wit, Sir:\nGod a mercy bagg.\n\n_Beaup._ Nothing but bumbast in ye?\nThe Rogue winks and fights.\n\n_La-writ._ Now your fine fencing, Sir: [Beau. _loses his sword_.\nStand off, thou diest on point else, [La-writ _treads on", "_La-writ._ I will have more, I must have more.\n\n_Verta._ Out with it.\n\n_Sam._ Nay he is as brave a fellow.--\n\n_Cham._ Have I caught you? [_Strikes him down._\n\n_Verta._ Do not kill him, do not kill him.\n\n_Cham._ No, no, no, I will not. Do you peep again?\nDown down proud heart.\n\n_Sam._ O valour,\nLook up brave friend, I have no means to rescue thee,", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "ampson_, do.\n\n_1 Cly._ You wrong the Gentleman,\nTo put him out of his right mind thus:\nYou wrong us, and our Causes.\n\n_La-writ._ Down with him Gentlemen,\nTurn him, and beat him, if he break our peace,\nThen when thou hast been Lam'd, thy small guts perisht,\nThen talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel,\nFeel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.\n\n_Sam._ And can the brave _La-writ_", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "to me,\nTo 'noint my beaten body.\n\n_Sam._ It concerns you,\nYou have been swing'd.\n\n_La-writ._ Let it concern thee too;\nGoe and be beaten, speak scurvy words, as I did,\nSpeak to that Lion Lord, waken his anger,\nAnd have a hundred Bastinado's, doe;\nThree broken pates, thy teeth knockt out, do _Sampson_,\nThy valiant arms and leggs beaten to Poultesses,\nDo silly _S", "Cler._ Thou strik'st me, fool.\n\n_La-writ._ Thou fool, stand further off then,\nDeliver, deliver.\n\n_Cler._ Hold fast. [_He strikes up the others heels,\n and takes his Sword too._\n_La-writ._ I never fail in't,\nThere's twelve pence, go buy you two leaden Daggers,\nHave I done well?\n\n_Cler._ Most like a Gentleman.\n\n_Beau._ And we two basely lost.\n", "so fight, with such metal,\nAnd with such judgement meet your enemies fury;\nI see it in your eye, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I'le be hang'd then;\nAnd I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.\n\n_Cler._ I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,\nWhich if you do not quickly, I begin with you,\nI'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?\nSweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.\n\n_La-", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "\n_Cham._ Alas Sir I must beat him,\nBeat him into his business again, he will be lost else.\n\n_Verta._ Then take your way.\n\n_Cham._ Ly still, and doe not struggle.\n\n_La-writ._ I am patient,\nI never saw my blood before, it jades me,\nI have no more heart now than a goose.\n\n_Cham._ Why sirra, why do you leave your trade, your trade of living,\nAnd send your challenges like thunderbolts,\nTo men of honour'", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La", "-writ._ Not; to abuse her honour, is impossible.\n\n_Din._ Certain this is the rascal: What's thy name?\n\n_La-writ._ My name is _Cock o' two_, use me respectively,\nI will be Cock of three else.\n\n_Din._ What's all this?\nYou say, you did abuse a Lady.\n\n_La-writ._ You ly.\n\n_Din._ And that you wrong'd her honour.\n\n_La-writ._ That's two lyes,\nSpeak suddenly", "am._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken,\nAnd your litigious blood about your ears sirra,\nWhy do you fight and snarle?\n\n_La-writ._ I was possest.\n\n_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.\n\n_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.\n\n_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_\n\n_Verta._ Beat him no more.\n", "?\nI am very cold, but that should not be laught at.\n\n_Cham._ What art thou?\n\n_La-writ._ What art thou?\n\n_Sam._ If he had his doublet.--\nAnd his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have.\n\n_Verta._ Peace Monsieur _Sampson_.\n\n_Cham._ Come hither little Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Base is the slave commanded: come to me.\n\n_Verta._ This is the little advocate.\n\n_Ch", "'s all one,\nWe'll dispatch within this quarter, there in that bottom,\n'Tis most convenient Gentlemen.\n\n_Beaup._ Well, we'll wait, Sir.\n\n_Verd._ Why this will be a comick fight, you'l follow.\n\n_La-writ._ As I am a true man, I cannot fight.\n [_Ex._ Beaupre, Verdone.\n\n_Cler._ Away, away,\nI know you can: I like your modesty,\nI know you will fight and" ], [ "To make you merry, this poor simple fellow\nHas met the maid again, and now she knows\nHe is a man.\n\n_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?\n\n_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable,\nHeaven is a witness of our happy contract,\nAnd the next Priest we meet shall warrant it\nTo all the world: I lay with her in jeast,\n'Tis turn'd to earnest now.\n\n_Cham._ Is this true, Niece?\n\n_Din._ Her blushing silence grants", "me,\nBut my reward for this--\n\n_Cler._ As you deserv'd,\nFor he that makes a goddess of a Puppet,\nMerits no other recompence.\n\n_Din._ This day friend,\nFor thou art so--\n\n_Cler._ I am no flatterer.\n\n_Din._ This proud, ingratefull she, is married to\nLame _Champernel_.\n\n_Cler._ I know him, he has been\nAs tall a Sea-man, and has thriv'd as", "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", "\nBy equal love, and mutual affection,\nNot blindly led with the desire of riches,\nMost miserable you shall never taste of.\nThis Marriage night you'l meet a Widows bed,\nOr failing of those pleasures all Brides look for,\nSin in your wish it were so.\n\n_Champ._ Thou art a Villain,\nA base, malitious slanderer.\n\n_Cler._ Strike him.\n\n_Din._ No, he is not worth a blow.\n\n_Champ._ O that I had the", "had once, to chastise in these men\nTheir folies, and ill manners, and that done,\nWhen you please, I'le yield up the fort of life,\nAnd do it gladly.\n\n_Cler._ We ha' the better of him,\nWe ha' made him cry.\n\n_Verdo._ You shall have satisfaction.\nAnd I will do it nobly, or disclaim me.\n\n_Beaup._ I say no more, you have a Brother, Sister,\nThis is your wedding day, we are in the street,\nAnd", ", and constant, and believe me,\nFor thou shalt find it true, in scorn of all\nThe scandals these rude men have thrown upon me\nI'le meet thy pleasures with a young mans ardour,\nAnd in all circumstances of a Husband,\nPerform my part.\n\n_Lamira._ Good Sir, I am your servant,\nAnd 'tis too late now, if I did repent,\n(Which as I am a virgin yet, I do not)\nTo undoe the knot, that by the Church is tyed.", "ins all,\n Many such fair nights may fall._\n\n Chorus.\n\n _Hymen, fill the house with joy,\n All thy sacred fires employ:\n Bless the Bed with holy love,\n Now fair orb of Beauty move._\n\n_Din._ Stand by, for I'le be heard.\n\n_Verta._ This is strange rudeness.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis courtship, ballanced with injuries,\nYou all look pale with guilt, but I will dy\nYour cheeks with blushes, if in your", "_Din._ And should he call me to account for what\nBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honour\nRecant my words, that little hope is left me,\nE're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,\nIs taken from me.\n\n_Cer._ Why what can you hope for,\nShe being now married?\n\n_Din._ Oh my _Cleremont_,\nTo you all secrets of my heart lye open,\nAnd I rest most secure that whatsoe're\nI lock up there, is as a private", "it; nay Sir storm not,\nHe is my friend, and I can make this good,\nHis birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship\nMight have sought out a worse, we are all friends too,\nAll differences end thus. Now Sir, unless\nYou would raise new dissentions, make perfect\nWhat is so well begun.\n\n_Vert._ That were not manly.\n\n_Lam._ Let me perswade you.\n\n_Cham._ Well God give you joy,\nShe shall not come a Begger to you Sir.\nFor you Mons", ": I can jump yet,\nOr tread a measure.\n\n_Lam._ Like a Millers Mare.\n\n_Nurs._ I warrant you well enough to serve the Country,\nI'le make one, and lead the way. [_Exit._\n\n_Charl._ Do you note,\nHow zealous the old Crone is?\n\n_Lam._ And you titter\nAs eagerly as she: come sweet, we'll follow,\nNo ill can be intended. [_Musick ends._\n\n_Cham._ I ne", "as many more: in brief,\nAll you shall wear, or touch, or see, is purchas'd\nBy lawless force, and you but revel in\nThe tears, and grones of such as were the owners.\n\n_Champ._ 'Tis false, most basely false.\n\n_Verta._ Let losers talk.\n\n_Din._ Lastly, those joyes, those best of joyes, which _Hymen_\nFreely bestows on such, that come to tye\nThe sacred knot be blesses, won unto it", "fail--\n\n_Cham._ Thou saiest too true, we all talk.\nBut let's in, and prepare, and after dinner\nBegin our mirthful pilgrimage.\n\n_Lam._ He that's sad,\nA crab-face'd Mistris cleave to him for this year. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _and_ La-writ.\n\n_La-writ._ Since it cannot be the Judge--\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis a great deal better.\n\n", "is the hour of fool.\n\n_Cler._ Wiser the next shall be or we'll to School. [_Exeunt._\n\n_Champ._ How coolly these hot gallants are departed!\nFaith Cousin, 'twas unconscionably done,\nTo lye so still, and so long.\n\n_Anab._ 'Twas your pleasure,\nIf 'twere a fault, I may hereafter mend.\n\n_Champ._ O my best Wife,\nTake now what course thou wilt, and lead", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee", "But fear nothing, all shall be well, away quickly\nIt must be done i'th' moment or--\n\n_Ana._ I am with ye.\n\n_Cler._ I'le know now who sleeps by me, keep your standing.\n [_Ex._ Cler. _and_ Anabel.\n\n_Lam._ Well, go thy way, and thine own shame dwell with thee.\nIs this the constancy she shew'd, the bravery?\nThe dear love and the life she ow'd her kinsmen?\n", "\nSo dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannot\nEndure to see her tears. [_Exeunt_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Champ._ See you perform it,\nAnd do it like my Nephew.\n\n_Verdo._ If I fail in't\nNe'r know me more, Cousin _Beaupre_.\n\n_Champ._ Repent not\nWhat thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not find\nI am decrepit; in my love and service,\nI will be young", "ath been noble,\nFar from all violence.\n\n_Cham._ How were you freed?\nBut kiss me first, we'l talk of that at leasure,\nI am glad I have thee; Niece how you keep off,\nAs you knew me not?\n\n_Ana._ Sir, I am where\nI owe most duty.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis indeed most true Sir,\nThe man that should have been your bedfellow\nYour Lordships bedfellow, that could not smell out\nA Virgin of sixteen, that was your fool,\n", "Verd._ Who deserve\nOur service, and for us, your gracious thanks.\n\n_Lam._ Which I give freely, and become a suitor,\nTo be hereafter more familiar [_Kisse._\nWith such great worth and vertue.\n\n_1 Gent._ Ever think us\nYour servants, Madam.\n\n_Cler._ Why if thou wilt needs know\nHow we are freed, I will discover it,\nAnd with laconick brevity: these Gentlemen\nThis night incountring with those outlaws that\nYesterday made", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the" ], [ ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "na._ As you ever hope\nFor what I would give gladly--\n\n_Cler._ Pretty conjurations.\n\n_Lam._ All injuries a little laid behind you.\n\n_Ana._ Shew your selves men, and help us.\n\n_Din._ Though your many\nAnd gross abuses of me should more move me\nTo triumph in your miseries than relieve you,--\nYet that hereafter you may know that I\nThe scorn'd and despis'd _Dinant_, know what does\nBelong to honour, thus--\n", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "e:\nMy turn is next,\nI am resolv'd, it comes\nBut in a nobler shape, ha?\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ Blesse ye Lady.\n\n_Lam._ Indeed Sir, I had need of many blessings,\nFor all the hours I have had since I came here,\nHave been so many curses. How got you liberty?\nFor I presume you come to comfort me.\n\n_Din._ To comfort you, and love you, 'tis most true,\nMy bondage was", "\n_Lam._ O _Dinant_!\n\n_Din._ I can but add your sorrows to my sorrows,\nYour fears to my fears.\n\n_Cler._ To your wishes mine,\nThis slave may prove unable to perform,\nTill I perform the task that I was born for.\n\n_Ana._ Amen, amen.\n\n_1 Gent._ Drag the slaves hence, for you\nA while I'le lock you up here, study all ways\nYou can to please me, or the deed being done,\nYou are but dead.", "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", "in it,\nWe that are expert in the game, and tough too,\nWill hold you play.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_1 Gent._ This Hen longs to be troden.\n\n_Din._ Lackey, my Horse.\n\n_Cler._ This way, I heard the cries\nOf distress'd Women.\n\n_2 Gent._ Stand upon your guard.\n\n_Din._ Who's here? my witty, scornful Lady-plot\nIn the hands of Ruffians?\n", "_Din._ And should he call me to account for what\nBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honour\nRecant my words, that little hope is left me,\nE're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,\nIs taken from me.\n\n_Cer._ Why what can you hope for,\nShe being now married?\n\n_Din._ Oh my _Cleremont_,\nTo you all secrets of my heart lye open,\nAnd I rest most secure that whatsoe're\nI lock up there, is as a private", "buy them of us,\nBegin now to detest them.\n\n_Din._ Will you end yet--\n\n_Cler._ And I have heard that some of our late Kings,\nFor the lie, wearing of a Mistris favour,\nA cheat at Cards or Dice, and such like causes,\nHave lost as many gallant Gentlemen,\nAs might have met the great _Turk_ in the field\nWith confidence of a glorious Victorie,\nAnd shall we then--\n\n_Din._ No more, for shame no more,\nAre you", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "._ Enough, I will reward thee liberally, [_Exit_ Nurse.\nGoe bring him in: full dear I loved _Dinant_,\nWhile it was lawfull, but those fires are quench'd\nI being now anothers, truth forgive me\nAnd let dissimulation be no crime,\nThough most unwillingly I put it on\nTo guard a Brothers safetie.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ Now your pleasure,\nThough ill you have deserv'd it, you perceive\nI", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", "charg'd your parts,\nThat while we live, rest confident you shall\nCommand _Dinant_ and _Cleremont_; nor _Beaupre_,\nNor _Verdone_ scents it: for the Ladies, they\nWere easie to be gull'd.\n\n_1 Gent._ 'Twas but a jest,\nAnd yet the jest may chance to break our necks\nShould it be known.\n\n_Cler._ Fear nothing.\n\n_Din._ _Cleremont_,\nSay, what success?\n\n", ",\nI shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,\nAnd stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._\nShe may be, and she may not, now to my observation.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.\n\n_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--\n\n_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.\n\n_Din._ Why do you shift thus\nFrom one Chamber to another?\n\n_Lam._ A little delay, Sir,", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "?\n\n_Din._ I do not think so,\nAnd I repent.\n\n_Lam._ That will not serve your turn, Sir.\n\n_Din._ It was your treaty drew me on.\n\n_Lam._ But it was your villany\nMade you pursue it; I drew you but to try\nHow much a man, and nobly thou durst stand,\nHow well you had deserv'd the name of vertuous;\nBut you like a wild torrent, mix'd with all\nBeastly and base affections came floating" ], [ ", and constant, and believe me,\nFor thou shalt find it true, in scorn of all\nThe scandals these rude men have thrown upon me\nI'le meet thy pleasures with a young mans ardour,\nAnd in all circumstances of a Husband,\nPerform my part.\n\n_Lamira._ Good Sir, I am your servant,\nAnd 'tis too late now, if I did repent,\n(Which as I am a virgin yet, I do not)\nTo undoe the knot, that by the Church is tyed.", ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", "am still your fool, and cannot but obey\nWhat ever you command.\n\n_Lamira._ You speak, as if\nYou did repent it, and 'tis not worth my thanks then,\nBut there has been a time, in which you would\nReceive this as a favour.\n\n_Din._ Hope was left then\nOf recompence.\n\n_Lamira._ Why I am still _Lamira_,\nAnd you _Dinant_, and 'tis yet in my power,\nI dare not say I'le put it into act,\nTo", "the first place holds, the second Love. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, Charlote.\n\n_Lami._ Sleeps my Lord still, _Charlote_?\n\n_Char._ Not to be wak'd.\nBy your Ladiships cheerfull looks I well perceive\nThat this night the good Lord hath been\nAt an unusual service, and no wonder\nIf he rest after it.\n\n_Lamira._ You are very bold.\n\n_Char._ Your Creature Madam, and when you are pleas", "\n_Lamira._ Why, foolish man,\nDare you solicite me to serve your lust,\nIn which not only I abuse my Lord,\nMy Father, and my family, but write whore,\nThough not upon my forehead, in my conscience,\nTo be read hourly, and yet name your honour?\nYours suffers but in circumstance; mine in substance.\nIf you obey me, you part with some credit,\nFrom whom? the giddy multitude; but mankind\nWill censure me, and justly.\n\n_Din._", "still pretended to\nlove_ Lamira.\n\nCleremont, _a merry Gentleman, his Friend._\n\nChampernell, _a lame old Gentleman, Husband to_ Lamira.\n\nVertaign, _a Noble-man, and a Judge._\n\nBeaupre, _Son to_ Vertaign.\n\nVerdone, _Nephew to_ Champernell.\n\n_Monsieur_ La Writt, _a wrangling Advocate, or the Little\nLawyer._\n\nS", "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "and to confirm it,\nGave him the ring he oft hath seen you wear,\nThat you bestowed on me: he waits without\nDisguis'd, and if you have that power in him,\nAs I presume you have, it is in you\nTo stay or alter him.\n\n_Lamira._ Have you learnt the place,\nWhere they are to encounter?\n\n_Nurse._ Yes 'tis where\nThe Duke of _Burgundie_ met _Lewis_ th' eleventh.\n\n_Lamir", "me,\nBut my reward for this--\n\n_Cler._ As you deserv'd,\nFor he that makes a goddess of a Puppet,\nMerits no other recompence.\n\n_Din._ This day friend,\nFor thou art so--\n\n_Cler._ I am no flatterer.\n\n_Din._ This proud, ingratefull she, is married to\nLame _Champernel_.\n\n_Cler._ I know him, he has been\nAs tall a Sea-man, and has thriv'd as", "Husband!\n\n_Ana._ O my _Cleremont_!\n\n_1 Gent._ Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth\nAs they are chain'd together, let them see\nAnd suffer in the object.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont, _bound by the rest of the\n Gent_.\n\n_2 Gent._ While we sit\nAnd without pity hear 'em.\n\n_Cler._ By my life,\nI suffer more for thee than for my self.\n\n_Din._", "e\nIn some close vault, that only would yield room\nTo me to use my Sword, to thee no hope\nTo run away, I would make thee on thy knees,\nBite out the tongue that wrong'd me.\n\n_Verta._ Pray you have patience.\n\n_Lamira._ This day I am to be your Soveraign,\nLet me command you.\n\n_Champ._ I am lost with rage,\nAnd know not what I am my self, nor you:\nAway, dare such as you, that love the smoke\nOf peace", "Charl._ No Madam.\n\n_Lamira._ I am full of fears. [_Knock within._\nWho's that?\n\n_Charl._ She you enquir'd for.\n\n_Lamira._ Bring her in, and leave me. [_Exit_ Charlote.\nNow nurse what news?\n\n _Enter_ Nurse.\n\n_Nurse._ O Ladie dreadfull ones.\nThey are to fight this morning, there's no remedie.\nI saw my Lord your Brother, and _Verd", "Lam._ 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.\n\n_Cler._ Would you had done too,\nYou know not\nIn what a misery and fear I lye.\nYou have a Lady in your arms.\n\n_Din._ I would have-- [_The Recorders again._\n\n_Champ._ I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.\n\n_Cler._ Remove for Heavens sake,\nAnd fall to that you come for.\n\n_Lam._ Lie you down,\n", "._ Peace to your grief, I bind you to your word.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone, Charlote,\n _Nurse, the two Gentlemen._\n\n_Lam._ How? do you conjure?\n\n_Din._ Not to raise dreadfull apparitions, Madam,\nBut such as you would gladly see.\n\n_Lam._ My Brother, and nephew living?\n\n_Beau._ And both owe their lives\nTo the favour of these Gentlemen.\n\n_", "it; nay Sir storm not,\nHe is my friend, and I can make this good,\nHis birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship\nMight have sought out a worse, we are all friends too,\nAll differences end thus. Now Sir, unless\nYou would raise new dissentions, make perfect\nWhat is so well begun.\n\n_Vert._ That were not manly.\n\n_Lam._ Let me perswade you.\n\n_Cham._ Well God give you joy,\nShe shall not come a Begger to you Sir.\nFor you Mons" ], [ "_Din._ Observe a little first.\n\n_Cler._ This is fine fidling.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, _Nurse_, Beaupre,\n Verdone. _An Epithalamium._\n\n SONG at the Wedding.\n\n _Come away, bring on the Bride\n And place her by her Lovers side:\n You fair troop of Maids attend her,\n Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.\n Blush, and wish, you Virg", "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", "If he pray, praying, _ipso facto_, praying,\nYour honourable way admits no prayer,\nAnd if he fight, he falls, there's his _quietus_.\n\n_Gent._ Y'are nobly punctual, let's retire and meet 'em,\nBut still, I say, have mercy.\n\n_Samp._ I say, honour. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Lamira, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone,\n Charlote _and a Serv", "\nIf I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,\nOr curb me of that freedom you once gave me--\n\n_Cham._ What then?\n\n_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,\nBut to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,\nI'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_\nHave courage to defend me.\n\n_Champ._ Impudent!\n\n_Verd._ And on the sudden--\n\n_Beau._ How are ye", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "\nSo dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannot\nEndure to see her tears. [_Exeunt_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Champ._ See you perform it,\nAnd do it like my Nephew.\n\n_Verdo._ If I fail in't\nNe'r know me more, Cousin _Beaupre_.\n\n_Champ._ Repent not\nWhat thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not find\nI am decrepit; in my love and service,\nI will be young", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "\nOnly I would beseech ye, as you have\nA good opinion of me, and my vertues,\nFor so you have pleas'd to stile my innocent weakness,\nThat what hath pass'd be[t]ween _Dinant_ and me,\nOr what now in your hearing he hath spoken,\nBeget not doubts, or fears.\n\n_Champ._ I apprehend you,\nYou think I will be jealous; as I live\nThou art mistaken sweet; and to confirm it\nDiscourse with whom thou wilt, ride where thou", "\n\n_Din._ But for his Beard--\n\n_Lam._ To cover that you shall have my night Linnen,\nAnd you dispos'd of, my _Dinant_ and I\nWill have some private conference.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, _privately_.\n\n_Cler._ Private doing,\nOr I'll not venture.\n\n_Lam._ That's as we agree. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter Nurse, and_ Charlotte, _pass over the Stage with\n Pillows", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", ", _Dinant_, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.\nAs you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.\nI want a Second now to meet these gallants,\nYou know what honour is.\n\n_1 Gent._ Sir you must pardon us,\nWe goe about the same work, you are ready for;\nAnd must fight presently, else we were your servants.\n\n_2 Gent._ God speed you, and good day. [_Exit_ Gent.\n\n_Cler._ Am I thus Colted?\n\n_Be", "say, _Dinant_ is all that thou wouldst have him,\nWill that suffice?\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis well, Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Use thy freedom\nUncheck'd, and unobserv'd, if thou wilt have it,\nThese shall forget their honour, I my wrongs.\nWe'll all dote on him, hell be my reward\nIf I dissemble.\n\n_Lam._ And that hell take me\nIf I affect him, he's a lustfull villain,\n(But yet no coward", "me,\nBut my reward for this--\n\n_Cler._ As you deserv'd,\nFor he that makes a goddess of a Puppet,\nMerits no other recompence.\n\n_Din._ This day friend,\nFor thou art so--\n\n_Cler._ I am no flatterer.\n\n_Din._ This proud, ingratefull she, is married to\nLame _Champernel_.\n\n_Cler._ I know him, he has been\nAs tall a Sea-man, and has thriv'd as", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "Husband!\n\n_Ana._ O my _Cleremont_!\n\n_1 Gent._ Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth\nAs they are chain'd together, let them see\nAnd suffer in the object.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont, _bound by the rest of the\n Gent_.\n\n_2 Gent._ While we sit\nAnd without pity hear 'em.\n\n_Cler._ By my life,\nI suffer more for thee than for my self.\n\n_Din._", "am a Rascal.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira, Anabel,\n Cleremont, _and two Servants_.\n\n_Din._ I am amaz'd too.\n\n_Beaup._ We'll recover you.\n\n_Verd._ You walk like _Robin-good-fellow_ all the house over,\nAnd every man afraid of you.\n\n_Din._ 'Tis well, Lady;\nThe honour of this deed will be your own,\nThe world", "_Din._ And should he call me to account for what\nBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honour\nRecant my words, that little hope is left me,\nE're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,\nIs taken from me.\n\n_Cer._ Why what can you hope for,\nShe being now married?\n\n_Din._ Oh my _Cleremont_,\nTo you all secrets of my heart lye open,\nAnd I rest most secure that whatsoe're\nI lock up there, is as a private", "?\n\n_Lam._ With what you cannot answer,\n'Twas my command that staid him.\n\n_Cham._ Your command?\n\n_Lam._ Mine, Sir, and had my will rank'd with my power,\nAnd his obedience, I could have sent him\nWith more ease, weaponless to you, and bound,\nThan have kept him back, so well he loves his honour\nBeyond his life.\n\n_Cham._ Better, and better still.\n\n_Lam._ I wrought with him in private to divert him", "\nBy equal love, and mutual affection,\nNot blindly led with the desire of riches,\nMost miserable you shall never taste of.\nThis Marriage night you'l meet a Widows bed,\nOr failing of those pleasures all Brides look for,\nSin in your wish it were so.\n\n_Champ._ Thou art a Villain,\nA base, malitious slanderer.\n\n_Cler._ Strike him.\n\n_Din._ No, he is not worth a blow.\n\n_Champ._ O that I had the", "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee" ], [ ", _Dinant_, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.\nAs you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.\nI want a Second now to meet these gallants,\nYou know what honour is.\n\n_1 Gent._ Sir you must pardon us,\nWe goe about the same work, you are ready for;\nAnd must fight presently, else we were your servants.\n\n_2 Gent._ God speed you, and good day. [_Exit_ Gent.\n\n_Cler._ Am I thus Colted?\n\n_Be", "Beaup._ And this you know the place.\n\n_Cler._ No _Dinant_ yet?\n\n_Beaup._ We come not now to argue, but to do;\nWe wait you Sir.\n\n_Cler._ There's no time past yet Gentlemen,\nWe have day enough: is't possible he comes not?\nYou see I am ready here, and do but stay\nTill my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,\n'Twill not be long.\n\n_Verd._ We came to fight.\n\n_", "._\n\n\n\n\n_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._\n\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _as in the field_.\n\n_Cler._ I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,\nPray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,\nThe hour is past, I wonder _Dinant_ comes not,\nThis is the place, I cannot see him yet;\nIt is his quarel too that brought me hither,\nAnd I ne'r knew him yet, but to", "unfit\nTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,\nOr to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.\n\n_Din._ What sport I prethee?\n\n_Cler._ Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,\nIt was apparent in the fiery eye\nOf young _Verdone_, _Beaupre_", "_and Gentlemen_.\n\n_Cler._ Many unto your honour.\nThis is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,\nNow must I think how to contrive this matter,\nFor together they shall go.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ O _Cleremont_,\nI am glad I have found thee.\n\n_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.\n\n_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer,\nDost thou love me?\n\n_Cler._ Love thee", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "charg'd your parts,\nThat while we live, rest confident you shall\nCommand _Dinant_ and _Cleremont_; nor _Beaupre_,\nNor _Verdone_ scents it: for the Ladies, they\nWere easie to be gull'd.\n\n_1 Gent._ 'Twas but a jest,\nAnd yet the jest may chance to break our necks\nShould it be known.\n\n_Cler._ Fear nothing.\n\n_Din._ _Cleremont_,\nSay, what success?\n\n", "Cler._ Ye shall fight Gentlemen,\nAnd fight enough, but a short turn or two,\nI think I see him, set up your watch, we'l fight by it.\n\n_Beaup._ That is not he; we will not be deluded.\n\n_Cler._ Am I bob'd thus? pray take a pipe of tobacco,\nOr sing but some new air; by that time, Gentlemen--\n\n_Verd._ Come draw your Sword, you know the custome here Sir,\nFirst come, first serv'd.\n\n_", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "friend, Sir: _Dinant_ you draw your sword\nUpon the Gentleman preserv'd your honour:\nThis was my second, and did back me nobly,\nFor shame forbear.\n\n_Din._ I ask your mercy, Sir, and am your servant now.\n\n_La-writ._ May we not fight then?\n\n_Cler._ I am sure you shall not now.\n\n_La-wr._ I am sorry for't, I am sure I'le stay no longer then,\nNot a jot longer: are there any more on", "ch or two--\n\n_Gen._ We'll have 'em.\n\n_La-writ._ No handling any Duells before I come,\nWe'll have no going else, I hate a coward.\n\n_Gent._ There shall be nothing done.\n\n_La-writ._ Make all the quarrels\nYou can devise before I come, and let's all fight,\nThere is no sport else.\n\n_Gent._ We'll see what may be done, Sir.\n\n_1 Cly._ Ha? Monsieur _La-writ_.", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "in it,\nWe that are expert in the game, and tough too,\nWill hold you play.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_1 Gent._ This Hen longs to be troden.\n\n_Din._ Lackey, my Horse.\n\n_Cler._ This way, I heard the cries\nOf distress'd Women.\n\n_2 Gent._ Stand upon your guard.\n\n_Din._ Who's here? my witty, scornful Lady-plot\nIn the hands of Ruffians?\n", "Cler._ Though it be held a custom,\nAnd practised so, I do not hold it honest;\nWhat honour can you both win on me single?\n\n_Beaup._ Yield up your Sword then.\n\n_Cler._ Yield my Sword? that's Hebrew;\nI'le be first cut a p[iec]es; hold but a while,\nI'le take the next that comes.\n\n _Enter an old_ Gentleman.\n\nYou are an old Gentleman?\n\n_Gent._ Yes indeed am", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "\n_Cler._ And my fine cold virgin,\nThat was insensible of man, and woman?\n\n_Din._ Justice too,\nWithout a sword to guard it self?\n\n_Cler._ And valour with its hands bound?\n\n_Din._ And the great Souldier dull?\nWhy this is strange.\n\n_Lam._ _Dinant_ as thou art noble--\n\n_Ana._ As thou art valiant _Cleremont_--\n\n_Lam._ As ever I appear'd lovely--\n\n_A", "\nYour swords are all lead there.\n\n_Beaup._ I know no duty,\n(How ever you may wreak your spleen on him,)\nThat bindes me to endure this.\n\n_Cham._ From _Dinant_\nYou'l suffer more; that ever cursed I,\nShould give my honour up, to the defence\nOf such a thing as he is, or my Lady\nThat is all Innocent, for whom a dove would\nAssume the courage of a daring Eagle,\nRepose her confidence in one that can\n", ", Sir, as my Champion,\nSince you propound it mirth, I'll venture on it,\nAnd shall defend my cause, but as y'are honest\nSport not with bloud.\n\n_Cler._ Think not so basely, good Sir.\n\n_Vert._ A Squire shall wait upon you from my Kinsman,\nTo morrow morning make you sport at full,\nYou want no Subject; but no wounds.\n\n_Cler._ That's my care.\n\n_Ver._ And so good day. [_Ex._ Vertaign,", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then," ], [ ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", ",\nI shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,\nAnd stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._\nShe may be, and she may not, now to my observation.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.\n\n_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--\n\n_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.\n\n_Din._ Why do you shift thus\nFrom one Chamber to another?\n\n_Lam._ A little delay, Sir,", "am still your fool, and cannot but obey\nWhat ever you command.\n\n_Lamira._ You speak, as if\nYou did repent it, and 'tis not worth my thanks then,\nBut there has been a time, in which you would\nReceive this as a favour.\n\n_Din._ Hope was left then\nOf recompence.\n\n_Lamira._ Why I am still _Lamira_,\nAnd you _Dinant_, and 'tis yet in my power,\nI dare not say I'le put it into act,\nTo", "\nIf I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,\nOr curb me of that freedom you once gave me--\n\n_Cham._ What then?\n\n_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,\nBut to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,\nI'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_\nHave courage to defend me.\n\n_Champ._ Impudent!\n\n_Verd._ And on the sudden--\n\n_Beau._ How are ye", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", "me call'd for a requital,\nWhich now I have return'd, all unchast love\n_Dinant_ thus throws away; live to man-kind,\nAs you have done to me, and I will honour\nYour vertue, and no more think of your beauty.\n\n_Lam._ All I possess, comes short of satisfaction.\n\n_Din._ No complements: the terrours of this night\nImagine but a fearfull dream, and so\nWith ease forget it: for _Dinant_, that labour'd\nTo blast your honour,", "reward your love and service.\n\n_Din._ There's some comfort.\n\n_Lami._ But think not that so low I prize my fame,\nTo give it up to any man that refuses\nTo buy it, or with danger of performance\nOf what I shall enjoin him.\n\n_Din._ Name that danger\nBe it of what horrid shape soever Ladie\nWhich I will shrink at; only at this instant\nBe speedie in't.\n\n_Lamira._ I'le put you to the trial:\nYou shall not fight to", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "\n\n_Cler._ You may goe _Dinant_.\n\n_O. Lady._ 'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, Sir,\nThan to tell him what I did, which if I had thought\nIt should have been receiv'd so--\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith you may,\nYou do not know how far it may concern you.\nIf I perceiv'd any trick in't.\n\n_Din._ 'Twill end there.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis my fault then,", "\n_Lamira._ Why, foolish man,\nDare you solicite me to serve your lust,\nIn which not only I abuse my Lord,\nMy Father, and my family, but write whore,\nThough not upon my forehead, in my conscience,\nTo be read hourly, and yet name your honour?\nYours suffers but in circumstance; mine in substance.\nIf you obey me, you part with some credit,\nFrom whom? the giddy multitude; but mankind\nWill censure me, and justly.\n\n_Din._", "ant_.\n\n_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?\n\n_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee.\nI stay behind?\n\n_Lam._ My Father will be there too,\nAnd all our best friends.\n\n_Beau._ And if we be not merry,\nWe have hard luck, Lady.\n\n_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.\n\n_Cham._ What shall it be?\n\n_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.\n\n_Lam._ With the", "inant?_ he durst not meet us.\n\n_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?\n\n_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.\n\n_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us,\nI had the better of him; for _Dinant_,\nIf that might make my peace with you, I dare\nWrite him a Coward upon every post,\nAnd with the hazard of my life defend it.\n\n_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "?\n\n_Lam._ With what you cannot answer,\n'Twas my command that staid him.\n\n_Cham._ Your command?\n\n_Lam._ Mine, Sir, and had my will rank'd with my power,\nAnd his obedience, I could have sent him\nWith more ease, weaponless to you, and bound,\nThan have kept him back, so well he loves his honour\nBeyond his life.\n\n_Cham._ Better, and better still.\n\n_Lam._ I wrought with him in private to divert him", "e:\nMy turn is next,\nI am resolv'd, it comes\nBut in a nobler shape, ha?\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ Blesse ye Lady.\n\n_Lam._ Indeed Sir, I had need of many blessings,\nFor all the hours I have had since I came here,\nHave been so many curses. How got you liberty?\nFor I presume you come to comfort me.\n\n_Din._ To comfort you, and love you, 'tis most true,\nMy bondage was", "\n_Lam._ O _Dinant_!\n\n_Din._ I can but add your sorrows to my sorrows,\nYour fears to my fears.\n\n_Cler._ To your wishes mine,\nThis slave may prove unable to perform,\nTill I perform the task that I was born for.\n\n_Ana._ Amen, amen.\n\n_1 Gent._ Drag the slaves hence, for you\nA while I'le lock you up here, study all ways\nYou can to please me, or the deed being done,\nYou are but dead.", "say, _Dinant_ is all that thou wouldst have him,\nWill that suffice?\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis well, Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Use thy freedom\nUncheck'd, and unobserv'd, if thou wilt have it,\nThese shall forget their honour, I my wrongs.\nWe'll all dote on him, hell be my reward\nIf I dissemble.\n\n_Lam._ And that hell take me\nIf I affect him, he's a lustfull villain,\n(But yet no coward", "I will lose,\nWhat most I do desire, rather than hazard\nSo dear a friend, or write my self a coward,\n'Tis better be no man.\n\n_Lamira._ This will not do;\nWhy, I desire not, you should be a coward,\nNor do I weigh my Brothers life with yours,\nMeet him, fight with him, do, and kill him fairly,\nLet me not suffer for you, I am careless.\n\n_Din._ Suffer for me?\n\n_Lamira._ For you, my kindness" ], [ "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "?\nI am very cold, but that should not be laught at.\n\n_Cham._ What art thou?\n\n_La-writ._ What art thou?\n\n_Sam._ If he had his doublet.--\nAnd his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have.\n\n_Verta._ Peace Monsieur _Sampson_.\n\n_Cham._ Come hither little Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Base is the slave commanded: come to me.\n\n_Verta._ This is the little advocate.\n\n_Ch", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI", "ing's my occupation\nIf you find your selves aggriev'd.\n\n_Sam._ A compleat Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Avant thou buckram budget of petitions,\nThou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee,\nAnd till revenge be taken--\n\n_Sam._ 'Tis most excellent.\n\n_La-wr._ There, every man chuse his paper, and his place.\nI'le answer ye all, I will neglect no mans business\nBut he shall have satisfaction like a Gentle", ", for I am full of business.\n\n_Din._ What art thou, or what canst thou be, thou pea-goose,\nThat dar'st give me the ly thus? thou mak'st me wonder.\n\n_La-writ._ And wonder on, till time make all things plain.\n\n_Din._ You must not part so, Sir, art thou a Gentleman?\n\n_La-writ._ Ask those upon whose ruins I am mounted.\n\n_Din._ This is some Cavellero Knight o'th' Sun.\n\n", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "am._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken,\nAnd your litigious blood about your ears sirra,\nWhy do you fight and snarle?\n\n_La-writ._ I was possest.\n\n_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.\n\n_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.\n\n_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_\n\n_Verta._ Beat him no more.\n", ".\n\n_Cler._ Be not so hastie,\nYou wear a good Sword.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not that,\nI never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword--\n\n_Cler._ I must entreat you try, Sir, and bear a part\nAgainst these Gentlemen, I want a second;\nYe seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.\n\n_La-writ._ I am a Lawyer, Sir, I am no fighter.\n\n_Cler._ You that breed quarels", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La", "er._ Who have we here?\nMy little furious Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ I say 'tis well,\nBut mark the end.\n\n_Cler._ How he is metamorphos'd!\nNothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram,\nNo solliciting face now,\nThis is no simple conversion.\nYour servant Sir, and Friend.\n\n_La-writ._ You come in time, Sir,\n\n_Cler._ The happier man, to be at your command then.\n\n_La-writ._ You", "_La-wr._ I tell thee I am as good a Gentleman as the Duke;\nI have atchieved--goe follow thy business.\n\n_Din._ But for this Lady, Sir--\n\n_La-writ._ Why, hang this Lady, Sir,\nAnd the Lady Mother too, Sir, what have I to do with Ladies?\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis the little Lawyers voice: has he got my way?\nIt should be hereabouts.\n\n_Din._ Ye dry", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", "\n\n_La-writ._ Baffled in way of business,\nMy causes cast away, Judgement against us?\nWhy there it goes.\n\n_2 Cly._ What shall we do the whilst Sir?\n\n_La-wr._ Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves\n'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.\n\n_1 Cli._ Do you hear what he saies Sir?\n\n_Sam._ The Gentleman speaks finely.\n\n_La-wr._ Will any of you fight? Fight", "there, be short, and let me hear it,\nAnd pay your Fees.\n\n_Cler._ 'Faith, Sir, I have a business,\nBut it depends upon no Parliament.\n\n_La-writ._ I have no skill in't then.\n\n_Cler._ I must desire you,\n'Tis a Sword matter, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I am no Cutler,\nI am an Advocate, Sir.\n\n_Beaup._ How the thing looks?\n\n_Verd._ When he brings him to fight", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "_La-writ._ Sir me with your sword in your hand;\nYou have a scurvy Uncle, you have a most scurvy cause,\nAnd you are--boh, boh.\n\n_Sam._ Boh, boh, what?\n\n_La-writ._ A shitten scurvy Cousin.\n\n_Samp._ Our Swords; our Swords;\nThou art a Dog, and like a Dog, our Swords.\n\n_La-w._ Our weapons Gentlemen: ha? where's your second?\n\n_Sam._", "hang my bag then, it may save my belly,\nI never lov'd cold Iron there.\n\n_Cler._ You do wisely.\n\n_La-writ._ Help me to pluck my Sword out then, quickly, quickly,\n'Thas not seen Sun these ten years.\n\n_Cler._ How it grumbles!\nThis Sword is vengeance angry.\n\n_La-writ._ Now I'le put my hat up,\nAnd say my prayers as I goe; away boy,\nIf I be kill'd, remember the little Law", "ie?\n\n_La-writ._ All I desire of ye,\nIs to take the quarrel to your self, and let me hear no more on't,\nI have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,\nAnd help me to put up my Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Most willingly.\nBut I am bound to gratifie you, and I must not leave you.\n\n_La-writ._ I tell you, I will not be gratified,\nNor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too," ], [ "only sleeps.\n\n_Cler._ Go, keep her stirring.\n\n_Lam._ Now if he 'wake, as sometimes he does,\nHe only stretches out his hand and feels,\nWhether I am a bed, which being assur'd of,\nHe sleeps again; but should he miss me, Valour\nCould not defend our lives.\n\n_Din._ What's to be done then?\n\n_Lam._ Servants have servile faiths, nor have I any\nThat I dare trust; on noble _Cleremont_", "\nWe safely may rely.\n\n_Cler._ What man can do,\nCommand and boldly.\n\n_Lam._ Thus then in my place,\nYou must lye with my Lord.\n\n_Cler._ With an old man?\nTwo Beards together, that's preposterous.\n\n_Lam._ There is no other way, and though 'tis dangerous,\nHe having servants within call, and arm'd too,\nSlaves fed to act all that his jealousie\nAnd rage commands them, yet a true friend should not\nCheck at the", "Lam._ 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.\n\n_Cler._ Would you had done too,\nYou know not\nIn what a misery and fear I lye.\nYou have a Lady in your arms.\n\n_Din._ I would have-- [_The Recorders again._\n\n_Champ._ I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.\n\n_Cler._ Remove for Heavens sake,\nAnd fall to that you come for.\n\n_Lam._ Lie you down,\n", "his lovely dam walk with you,\nCome fortify your self, if they do dy,\nWhich all their ruggedness cannot rack into me,\nThey cannot find an hour more Innocent,\nNor more friends to revenge 'em.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _disguis'd._\n\n_Lam._ Now stand constant,\nFor now our tryal's come.\n\n_Cler._ This beautie's mine,\nYour minute moves not yet.\n\n_Lam._ She sinks if Christian,\nIf any spark of noble", "'Tis but an hours endurance now.\n\n_Cler._ I dare not, softly sweet Lady ----heart?\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis nothing but your fear, he sleeps still soundly,\nLie gently down.\n\n_Cler._ 'Pray make an end.\n\n_Din._ Come, Madam.\n\n_Lam._ These Chambers are too near. [_Ex._ Din. Lam.\n\n_Cham._ I shall be nearer;\nWell, go thy wayes, I'le trust thee through the", "one_\nTake horse as I came by.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Cleremont_?\n\n_Nurse._ I met him too, and mounted.\n\n_Lamira._ Where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,\nIf I have done well so.\n\n_Lamira._ What trick?\n\n_Nurse._ I told him,\nYour Ladiship laid your command upon him,\nTo attend you presently,", "the first place holds, the second Love. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, Charlote.\n\n_Lami._ Sleeps my Lord still, _Charlote_?\n\n_Char._ Not to be wak'd.\nBy your Ladiships cheerfull looks I well perceive\nThat this night the good Lord hath been\nAt an unusual service, and no wonder\nIf he rest after it.\n\n_Lamira._ You are very bold.\n\n_Char._ Your Creature Madam, and when you are pleas", ".\n\n_Lam._ As you respect our lives, speak not so loud.\n\n_Cler._ Why, do it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd.\n\n_Lam._ Be not so hasty, Sir, the golden Apples\nHad a fell Dragon for their Guard, your pleasures\nAre to be attempted with _Herculean_ danger,\nOr never to be gotten.\n\n_Din._ Speak the means.\n\n_Lam._ Thus briefly, my Lord sleeps now, and alas,\nEach Night, he", "merry conceits of _Cleremont_,\nHis Fits and Feavers.\n\n_Ana._ But I'le lie still no more.\n\n_Lam._ That, as you make the Play, 'twill be rare sport,\nAnd how 'twill vex my gallants, when they hear it!\nHave you given order for the Coach?\n\n_Charl._ Yes, Madam.\n\n_Cham._ My easie Nag, and padd.\n\n_Serv._ 'Tis making ready.\n\n_Champ._ Where are your", ",\nAnd thou hast made thy friend.\n\n_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.\n\n_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?\n\n_Nurse._ He's at my back.\n'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold\nHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,\nIf you yield up the fort.\n\n_Lam._ How? yield it up?\n", ", I cannot endure this misery,\nI can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,\nAnd down again-- [_Whistle within._\nA thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,\nHeaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.\nPl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake!\n'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.\n\n_D", ", for willingly, by this light,\nI'le never see thee more.\n\n_Din._ Two hours, do you say?\n\n_Lamira._ Only two hours.\n\n_Din._ I were no Gentleman,\nShould I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,\nAnd boldly I'll perform it. [_Exit._\n\n_Lamira._ I am glad on't.\nThis will prevent their meeting yet, and keep\nMy Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [_Exit", "\n_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,\nAnd a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,\nMay enter every where.\n\n_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.\n\n_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,\nLook on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:\nWere I young for your sake--\n\n_Din._ I thank thee", "\n\n_Lam._ Ha, ha.\n\n_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,\nUpon your tempting faces, all destructions;\nA bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,\nAnd blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;\nDeath in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:\nRaise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.\n\n_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?\n\n_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour", "To make you merry, this poor simple fellow\nHas met the maid again, and now she knows\nHe is a man.\n\n_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?\n\n_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable,\nHeaven is a witness of our happy contract,\nAnd the next Priest we meet shall warrant it\nTo all the world: I lay with her in jeast,\n'Tis turn'd to earnest now.\n\n_Cham._ Is this true, Niece?\n\n_Din._ Her blushing silence grants", "\nIf I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,\nOr curb me of that freedom you once gave me--\n\n_Cham._ What then?\n\n_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,\nBut to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,\nI'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_\nHave courage to defend me.\n\n_Champ._ Impudent!\n\n_Verd._ And on the sudden--\n\n_Beau._ How are ye", "ost cuckold me I shall forgive thee.\n\n_Din._ The house will all rise now, this will disturb all.\nDid you do this?\n\n_Lam._ Peace, and sit quiet, fool,\nYou love me, come, sit down and drink.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont _above_.\n\n_Cler._ What a Devil ail you?\nHow cold I sweat! a hogs pox stop your pipes, [_Musick._\nThe thing will 'wake; now, now, methinks I find\nHis", "\nFrom your assur'd destruction, had he met you.\n\n_Cham._ In private?\n\n_Lam._ Yes, and us'd all Arts, all Charms\nOf one that knew her self the absolute Mistris\nOf all his faculties.\n\n_Cham._ Gave all rewards too\nHis service could deserve; did not he take\nThe measure of my sheets?\n\n_Lam._ Do not look yellow,\nI have cause to speak; frowns cannot fright me,\nBy all my hopes, as I am spotless to you,", "\n\n_Din._ But for his Beard--\n\n_Lam._ To cover that you shall have my night Linnen,\nAnd you dispos'd of, my _Dinant_ and I\nWill have some private conference.\n\n _Enter_ Champernel, _privately_.\n\n_Cler._ Private doing,\nOr I'll not venture.\n\n_Lam._ That's as we agree. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter Nurse, and_ Charlotte, _pass over the Stage with\n Pillows", ",\nI shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,\nAnd stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._\nShe may be, and she may not, now to my observation.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.\n\n_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--\n\n_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.\n\n_Din._ Why do you shift thus\nFrom one Chamber to another?\n\n_Lam._ A little delay, Sir," ], [ "fail--\n\n_Cham._ Thou saiest too true, we all talk.\nBut let's in, and prepare, and after dinner\nBegin our mirthful pilgrimage.\n\n_Lam._ He that's sad,\nA crab-face'd Mistris cleave to him for this year. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont, _and_ La-writ.\n\n_La-writ._ Since it cannot be the Judge--\n\n_Cler._ 'Tis a great deal better.\n\n", "-writ._ Not; to abuse her honour, is impossible.\n\n_Din._ Certain this is the rascal: What's thy name?\n\n_La-writ._ My name is _Cock o' two_, use me respectively,\nI will be Cock of three else.\n\n_Din._ What's all this?\nYou say, you did abuse a Lady.\n\n_La-writ._ You ly.\n\n_Din._ And that you wrong'd her honour.\n\n_La-writ._ That's two lyes,\nSpeak suddenly", "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI", "do what I can, and then--\n\n_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.\n\n_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?\nAnd because I was honourably employed in action,\nAnd not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,\n'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cl", "man,\nThe Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.\n\n_Sam._ You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not Sir,\nBut you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.\n\n_Sam._ It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.\n\n_La-writ._ I rest your servant Sir.\n\n_Sam._ No more words Gentlemen\nBut follow me, no more words as you love me,\nThe Gentleman's a noble Gentleman.\nI shall", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "--\n\n_2 Cly._ Tempt him no further,\nBe warn'd and say no more.\n\n_La-writ._ If thou doest, _Sampson_,\nThou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose,\nThat in a moment--\n\n_Sam._ I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish--\n\n_La-writ._ They shall destroy thee wishing;\nThere's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes,\nDearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "_La-writ._ I will have more, I must have more.\n\n_Verta._ Out with it.\n\n_Sam._ Nay he is as brave a fellow.--\n\n_Cham._ Have I caught you? [_Strikes him down._\n\n_Verta._ Do not kill him, do not kill him.\n\n_Cham._ No, no, no, I will not. Do you peep again?\nDown down proud heart.\n\n_Sam._ O valour,\nLook up brave friend, I have no means to rescue thee,", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", "you can, Sir.\n\n_Sam._ Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's _La-writ_?\nWhere's your sufficient Lawyer?\n\n_1 Cly._ He's blown up, Sir.\n\n_2 Cly._ Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets;\nHe is no Lawyer of this world now.\n\n_Sam._ Your reason?\nIs he defunct? is he dead?\n\n_2 Cly._ No he's not dead yet, Sir;\nBut I would be loth", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "ampson_, do.\n\n_1 Cly._ You wrong the Gentleman,\nTo put him out of his right mind thus:\nYou wrong us, and our Causes.\n\n_La-writ._ Down with him Gentlemen,\nTurn him, and beat him, if he break our peace,\nThen when thou hast been Lam'd, thy small guts perisht,\nThen talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel,\nFeel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.\n\n_Sam._ And can the brave _La-writ_", "ie?\n\n_La-writ._ All I desire of ye,\nIs to take the quarrel to your self, and let me hear no more on't,\nI have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,\nAnd help me to put up my Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Most willingly.\nBut I am bound to gratifie you, and I must not leave you.\n\n_La-writ._ I tell you, I will not be gratified,\nNor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too,", "service.\n\n_La-w._ A Judge, or no Judge, no Judge. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is the prettiest Rogue that e'r I read of,\nNone to provoke to th' field, but the old President;\nWhat face shall I put on? if I come in earnest,\nI am sure to wear a pair of Bracelets;\nThis may make some sport yet, I will deliver it,\nHere comes the President.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, _with two Gentlemen_." ], [ "man,\nThe Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.\n\n_Sam._ You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not Sir,\nBut you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.\n\n_Sam._ It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.\n\n_La-writ._ I rest your servant Sir.\n\n_Sam._ No more words Gentlemen\nBut follow me, no more words as you love me,\nThe Gentleman's a noble Gentleman.\nI shall", "am._ What advocate?\n\n_Verta._ The little advocate that sent me a challenge,\nI told you that my Nephew undertook it,\nAnd what 'twas like to prove: now you see the issue.\n\n_Cham._ Is this the little Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ You have a sword Sir,\nAnd I have none, you have a doublet too\nThat keeps you warm, and makes you merry.\n\n_Sam._ If your Lordship knew\nThe nature, and the nobleness of the Gentleman,\nThough he", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", ", one good turn requires another.\n\n_Cler._ Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.\n\n_La-w._ There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.\n\n_Cler._ This is a Challenge, Sir,\n\n_La-w._ 'Tis very like, Sir,\nI seldom now write Sonnets.\n\n_Cler._ _O admirantis_,\nTo Monsieur _Vertaign_, the President.\n\n_La-w._ I chuse no Fool, Sir.\n\n_Cler._ Why", "so fight, with such metal,\nAnd with such judgement meet your enemies fury;\nI see it in your eye, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I'le be hang'd then;\nAnd I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.\n\n_Cler._ I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,\nWhich if you do not quickly, I begin with you,\nI'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?\nSweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.\n\n_La-", "of an Asse flung on me.\nSure _Cleremont_ has fought, but how come off,\nAnd what the world shall think of me hereafter:\nWell, woman, woman, I must look your rascals,\nAnd lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.\nThese two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously\nSurvey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal,\nNor any face to quarel with:\nWhat's that? [La-writ _sings within, then Enters_.", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "service.\n\n_La-w._ A Judge, or no Judge, no Judge. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is the prettiest Rogue that e'r I read of,\nNone to provoke to th' field, but the old President;\nWhat face shall I put on? if I come in earnest,\nI am sure to wear a pair of Bracelets;\nThis may make some sport yet, I will deliver it,\nHere comes the President.\n\n _Enter_ Vertaign, _with two Gentlemen_.", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "face, and you shall carry it.\n\n_Cler._ The least is Banishment.\n\n_La-w._ Be banish'd then;\n'Tis a friends part, we'll meet in _Africa_,\nOr any part of the Earth.\n\n_Cler._ Say he will not fight.\n\n_La-w._ I know then what to say, take you no care, Sir,\n\n_Cler._ Well, I will carry it, and deliver it,\nAnd to morrow morning meet you in the Louver,\nTill when, my", "\n_La-wr._ Thou fierce man that like Sir _Lancelot_ dost appear,\nI need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.\n\n_Din._ This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good _Tristram_,\nAnd let me ask thy mightiness a question,\nDid ye never abuse a Lady?\n\n_La-writ._ Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, Sir.\n\n_Din._ Say you so, Sir?\nDidst thou never abuse her honour?\n\n_La", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI", "do what I can, and then--\n\n_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.\n\n_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?\nAnd because I was honourably employed in action,\nAnd not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,\n'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.\n\n _Enter_ Cleremont.\n\n_Cl", "ampson_, do.\n\n_1 Cly._ You wrong the Gentleman,\nTo put him out of his right mind thus:\nYou wrong us, and our Causes.\n\n_La-writ._ Down with him Gentlemen,\nTurn him, and beat him, if he break our peace,\nThen when thou hast been Lam'd, thy small guts perisht,\nThen talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel,\nFeel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.\n\n_Sam._ And can the brave _La-writ_", "_La-writ._ Sir me with your sword in your hand;\nYou have a scurvy Uncle, you have a most scurvy cause,\nAnd you are--boh, boh.\n\n_Sam._ Boh, boh, what?\n\n_La-writ._ A shitten scurvy Cousin.\n\n_Samp._ Our Swords; our Swords;\nThou art a Dog, and like a Dog, our Swords.\n\n_La-w._ Our weapons Gentlemen: ha? where's your second?\n\n_Sam._", "?\nI am very cold, but that should not be laught at.\n\n_Cham._ What art thou?\n\n_La-writ._ What art thou?\n\n_Sam._ If he had his doublet.--\nAnd his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have.\n\n_Verta._ Peace Monsieur _Sampson_.\n\n_Cham._ Come hither little Gentleman.\n\n_La-writ._ Base is the slave commanded: come to me.\n\n_Verta._ This is the little advocate.\n\n_Ch", "-writ._ Not; to abuse her honour, is impossible.\n\n_Din._ Certain this is the rascal: What's thy name?\n\n_La-writ._ My name is _Cock o' two_, use me respectively,\nI will be Cock of three else.\n\n_Din._ What's all this?\nYou say, you did abuse a Lady.\n\n_La-writ._ You ly.\n\n_Din._ And that you wrong'd her honour.\n\n_La-writ._ That's two lyes,\nSpeak suddenly", "--\n\n_2 Cly._ Tempt him no further,\nBe warn'd and say no more.\n\n_La-writ._ If thou doest, _Sampson_,\nThou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose,\nThat in a moment--\n\n_Sam._ I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish--\n\n_La-writ._ They shall destroy thee wishing;\nThere's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes,\nDearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou", ", he's no Sword-man, Sir.\n\n_La-w._ Let him learn, let him learn,\nTime, that trains Chickens up, will teach him quickly.\n\n_Cler._ Why, he's a Judge, an Old Man.\n\n_La-w._ Never too Old\nTo be a Gentleman; and he that is a Judge\nCan judge best what belongs to wounded honour.\nThere are my griefs, he has cast away my causes,\nIn which he has bowed my reputation.\nAnd therefore Judge, or no Judge.\n" ], [ "d place?\n\n_La-writ._ I understand Sir,\nI never understood before your beating.\n\n_Cham._ Does this work on you?\n\n_La-writ._ Yes.\n\n_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?\n\n_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.\n\n_Cham._ And do you promise me,\nTo fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?\n\n_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.\n\n_Cham._ And ask this noble man forgiveness?", "What shall become of my Writings?\n\n_Cler._ Let 'em ly by,\nThey will not run away, man.\n\n_La-writ._ I may be kill'd too,\nAnd where are all my causes then? my business?\nI will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes--\n\n_Cler._ Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,\nThou art a man to fight for any cause,\nAnd carry it with honour.\n\n_La-writ._ Hum, say you so? if I should\nBe such", "er._ Who have we here?\nMy little furious Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ I say 'tis well,\nBut mark the end.\n\n_Cler._ How he is metamorphos'd!\nNothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram,\nNo solliciting face now,\nThis is no simple conversion.\nYour servant Sir, and Friend.\n\n_La-writ._ You come in time, Sir,\n\n_Cler._ The happier man, to be at your command then.\n\n_La-writ._ You", "\n\n_La-writ._ Heartily.\n\n_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you\nAs of an advocate new vampt; no more words,\nGet you off quickly, and make no murmurs,\nI shall pursue you else.\n\n_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._\n\n_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.\n\n_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._", "yer. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ Beaupre.\n\n_Beaup._ They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,\nTake you that ground,\n\n _Enter_ La-writ.\n\nI'le stay here, fight bravely.\n\n_La-writ._ To't chearfully my boyes, you'l let's have fair play,\nNone of your foyning tricks.\n\n_Beaup._ Come forward Monsieur; [_Fight._\nWhat hast", "so fight, with such metal,\nAnd with such judgement meet your enemies fury;\nI see it in your eye, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I'le be hang'd then;\nAnd I charge you in the Kings name, name no more fighting.\n\n_Cler._ I charge you in the Kings name, play the man,\nWhich if you do not quickly, I begin with you,\nI'le make you dance, do you see your fiddlestick?\nSweet A[d]vocate thou shalt fight.\n\n_La-", "_La-writ._ I will have more, I must have more.\n\n_Verta._ Out with it.\n\n_Sam._ Nay he is as brave a fellow.--\n\n_Cham._ Have I caught you? [_Strikes him down._\n\n_Verta._ Do not kill him, do not kill him.\n\n_Cham._ No, no, no, I will not. Do you peep again?\nDown down proud heart.\n\n_Sam._ O valour,\nLook up brave friend, I have no means to rescue thee,", "is a Champion for it,\nAnd will protect and guard it.\n\n_Lam._ 'Tis as safe then,\nAs if a compleat Army undertook it. [_Exeunt._\n\n _Enter_ La-writ, Sampson, _Clyents._\n\n_La-writ._ Do not perswade me gentle Monsieur _Sampson_,\nI am a mortal man again, a Lawyer,\nMy martiall part I have put off.\n\n_Sam._ Sweet Monsieur,\nLet but our honours teach us.", "\n\n_La-writ._ Monsieur _Sampson_,\nMy honourable friend, my valiant friend,\nBe but so beaten, forward my brave Clients,\nI am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrasht,\nReceive that Castigation with a cudgel.\n\n_Sam._ Which calls upon us for a Reparation.\n\n_La-writ._ I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it\nAll over me, I bear it Monsieur _Sampson_;\nThe oyls, and the old woman that repairs", ", Sir, know best to satisfie.\n\n_Beaup._ This is some sport yet.\n\n_Verd._ If this fellow should fight.\n\n_La-writ._ And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,\nDo not trust me, I think I am a coward.\n\n_Cler._ Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on Gentlemen,\nThe man shall follow presently.\n\n_La-writ._ Are ye mad Gentleman?\nMy business is within this half hour.\n\n_Cler._ That", "ie?\n\n_La-writ._ All I desire of ye,\nIs to take the quarrel to your self, and let me hear no more on't,\nI have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,\nAnd help me to put up my Sword.\n\n_Cler._ Most willingly.\nBut I am bound to gratifie you, and I must not leave you.\n\n_La-writ._ I tell you, I will not be gratified,\nNor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too,", "aup._ Come either yield--\n\n_Cler._ As you are honest Gentlemen,\nStay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,\nAnd if I fight not like a man--Fy _Dinant_,\nCold now and treacherous.\n\n _Enter Monsieur_ La-writ, _within_.\n\n_La-Writ._ I understand your causes.\nYours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,\nWill you make me mad, have I not all the parcells?\nAnd his Petition too, about", "man,\nThe Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.\n\n_Sam._ You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.\n\n_La-writ._ I know not Sir,\nBut you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.\n\n_Sam._ It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.\n\n_La-writ._ I rest your servant Sir.\n\n_Sam._ No more words Gentlemen\nBut follow me, no more words as you love me,\nThe Gentleman's a noble Gentleman.\nI shall", "\n_Cham._ Alas Sir I must beat him,\nBeat him into his business again, he will be lost else.\n\n_Verta._ Then take your way.\n\n_Cham._ Ly still, and doe not struggle.\n\n_La-writ._ I am patient,\nI never saw my blood before, it jades me,\nI have no more heart now than a goose.\n\n_Cham._ Why sirra, why do you leave your trade, your trade of living,\nAnd send your challenges like thunderbolts,\nTo men of honour'", "--\n\n_2 Cly._ Tempt him no further,\nBe warn'd and say no more.\n\n_La-writ._ If thou doest, _Sampson_,\nThou seest my Mirmidons, I'le let 'em loose,\nThat in a moment--\n\n_Sam._ I say nothing, Sir, but I could wish--\n\n_La-writ._ They shall destroy thee wishing;\nThere's ne'r a man of these, but have lost ten causes,\nDearer then ten mens lives; tempt, and thou", "friend, Sir: _Dinant_ you draw your sword\nUpon the Gentleman preserv'd your honour:\nThis was my second, and did back me nobly,\nFor shame forbear.\n\n_Din._ I ask your mercy, Sir, and am your servant now.\n\n_La-writ._ May we not fight then?\n\n_Cler._ I am sure you shall not now.\n\n_La-wr._ I am sorry for't, I am sure I'le stay no longer then,\nNot a jot longer: are there any more on", "am._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?\n\n_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.\n\n_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken,\nAnd your litigious blood about your ears sirra,\nWhy do you fight and snarle?\n\n_La-writ._ I was possest.\n\n_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.\n\n_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.\n\n_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_\n\n_Verta._ Beat him no more.\n", "\nAnd do not anger me but leave me quietly.\nFor the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,\nAnd so, and so. [_Exit_ La-writ.\n\n_Cler._ This is a most rare Lawyer:\nI am sure most valiant. Well _Dinant_, as you satisfie me,\nI say no more: I am loaden like an Armorer. [_Exit_ Cler.\n\n _Enter_ Dinant.\n\n_Din._ To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand", "am._ What advocate?\n\n_Verta._ The little advocate that sent me a challenge,\nI told you that my Nephew undertook it,\nAnd what 'twas like to prove: now you see the issue.\n\n_Cham._ Is this the little Lawyer?\n\n_La-writ._ You have a sword Sir,\nAnd I have none, you have a doublet too\nThat keeps you warm, and makes you merry.\n\n_Sam._ If your Lordship knew\nThe nature, and the nobleness of the Gentleman,\nThough he", "_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?\n\n_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow,\nAnd so near to his blood--\n\n_La-writ._ It shall suffice,\nI'le set him further off, I'le give a remove\nShall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.\n\n_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?\n\n_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him,\nI" ] ]

[ "Who does Dinant and Cleremont challenge to a duel? ", "Who comes to Cleremont's aid during the morning duel?", "What does La Writ ignore his law practice to do?", "What dilemma does La Writ place Cleremont by asking him to deliver a challenge?", "What does Lamira do to embarrass Cleremont and Dinant?", "What causes La Write to give up quarreling and return to lawyering?", "In the play, who ends up together at the end?", "What happens when Dinant confronts Lamira?", "In what city does this story occur?", "At the start of the tale, why is Dinant so upset?", "Which characters step forward to defend the honor of Lamira and Champernell after they were mocked at their wedding?", "How did Lamira distract Dinant from his appointment with Beaupre and Verdone?", "Who does Cleremont persuade to act as his second in his duel with Beaupre and Verdone?", "How was Cleremont embarrassed while helping Dinant have a tryst with Lamira?", "Who is Anabel?", "What happened when La-Writ focused so much on dueling that he neglected his cases and failed to appear in court?", "Who finally beats La-Writ by knocking him to the ground?", "Which characters get married at the tale's close?", "Why is Dinant in dejected spirits at the beginning of the play?", "What is the name of Lamira's new husband?", "Why doesn't Champernell fight back against Dinant and Cleremont when they confront him at his own wedding?", "Which two characters challenge Dinant and Cleremont to a duel?", "Why does Lamira trick Dinant into missing the duel?", "What kind of profession does La-Writ practice when we are first introduced to him?", "Who does Lamira trick Cleremont into lying in bed with?", "What happens when La-Writ fails to appear in court?", "Who does La-Writ send as a messenger to deliver his challenge to the judge?", "Who ends up convincing La-Writ to give up fighting and to return to his professional responsibilities?" ]

[ [ "Verdone and Beaupre", "Beaupre and Verdone" ], [ "La Writ", "La-Writ." ], [ "quarrel", "querreling withh town bravos" ], [ "Cleremont cannot refuse to deliver the challenge, but delivering the challenge to the judge will land him in jail.", "Cleremont can't refuse to deliver it, but giving it to a judge will put him in jail." ], [ "She sets up Cleremont to be found in bed with his niece and a tryst with Dinant.", "Gets them involved in a fake tryst." ], [ "He is beaten by Champernell.", "He is beated badly by Champernell" ], [ "Cleremont and Anabel", "Anabel and Cleremont" ], [ "Lamira preserves her virtue and apologizes for tricking Dinant.", "they reconcile" ], [ "Paris", "Paris." ], [ "The woman he loves is marrying a rich, old man.", "The woman he loves is marrying another man. " ], [ "Beaupre and Verdone", "beaupre and" ], [ "She persuaded him to defend her honor against someone that did not exist.", "Tells him her honor has been insulted." ], [ "The lawyer, La-Writ.", "La-Writ" ], [ "He was persuaded to take Lamira's place in bed with her husband.", "He was told he would have to lay in bed with her husband" ], [ "She is Champernell's 16 year old niece.", "Champernells niece" ], [ "His cases were dismissed by Vertaigne.", "His cases are dismissed." ], [ "Champernell", "champernell" ], [ "Cleremont and Anabel", "Cleremont and Anabel." ], [ "Because the woman he loves is marrying another man.", "The woman he loves is marrying someone else." ], [ "Champernell", "Champernell" ], [ "Champernell sustained crippling injuries while fighting at sea and is now physically impaired.", "He has a crippled arm and leg." ], [ "Lamira's brother Beaupre and Champernell's nephew Verdone.", "Beaupre and Verdone." ], [ "Lamira is afraid that Dinant will end up killing her brother.", "She is afraid he will be killed." ], [ "La-Writ is a lawyer.", "He is a lawyer" ], [ "Champernell's niece Anabel.", "Champernell's niece." ], [ "La-Writ's cases are dismissed.", "His cases are dismissed." ], [ "Cleremont.", "cleremont" ], [ "Champernell.", "Champernell does." ] ]

[ [ "\nannounced that after the meeting had adjourned an exhibition of the\nflying powers of the ship would be given in the open air.\n\nThese experiments, together with the accompanying explanations, added\nto what had already been disseminated through the public press, were\nquite sufficient to convince all the representatives who had assembled\nin Washington that the problem of how to conquer the Martians had\nbeen solved. The means were plainly at hand. It only remained to apply\nthem. For this purpose, as the President had pointed out, it would be\nnecessary to raise a very large", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "Edison was compelled, from lack of room, to refuse\ntransportation to more than one in a thousand of those who now, on the\nplea that they might be able to bring back something of advantage to\nscience, wished to embark for Mars.\n\n\nAs the Great Napoleon Did.\n\nOn the model of the celebrated corps of literary and scientific men\nwhich Napoleon carried with him in his invasion of Egypt, Mr. Edison\nselected a company of the foremost astronomers, archaeologists,\nanthropologists, botanists, bacteriologists, chemists, physic", "leader, and then hurried back to their projectile and disappeared\nwithin it.\n\n\"Now we've got business on our hands,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Look out for\nyourselves.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I saw the death-dealing knob of the war engine contained\nin the car of the Martians moving around toward us. In another instant\nit would have launched its destroying bolt.\n\nBefore that could occur, however, it had been dissipated into space by\na vibratory stream from a disintegrator.\n\nBut we were not to", "Edison in any capacity in which, in his judgment,\nthey might be useful to him.\n\nThe members of this committee were disposed to congratulate one another\non the good work which they had so promptly accomplished, when at the\nmoment of their adjournment, a telegraphic dispatch was handed to the\nPresident from Professor George E. Hale, the director of the great Yerkes\nObservatory, in Wisconsin. The telegram read:\n\n\nWhat's Happening on Mars?\n\n\"Professor Barnard, watching Mars to-", "destroyed by the Martians,\nso that communication between the Eastern and Western continents was\nuninterrupted. It was a proud day for America. Even while the Martians\nhad been upon the earth, carrying everything before them, demonstrating\nto the confusion of the most optimistic that there was no possibility\nof standing against them, a feeling--a confidence had manifested itself\nin France, to a minor extent in England, and particularly in Russia,\nthat the Americans might discover means to meet and master the invaders.\n\nNow, it seemed, this hope and expectation were to be realized. Too\n", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "the\nexpedition. Mr. Edison, however, had confided to me before we left\nthe earth the fact that he had invented a little instrument by means of\nwhich a bubble, strongly charged with a powerful anaesthetic agent, could\nbe driven to a considerable distance into the face of an enemy, where,\nexploding without other damage, it would instantly put him to sleep.\n\nWhen Tom had placed the instrument in his hands Mr. Edison ordered the\nelectrical ship to forge slightly ahead and drop a little lower toward\nthe Martian, who, with watchful", "almost joyous cry. \"We shall be ready for\nthem now. The Americans have solved the problem. Edison has placed\nthe means of victory within our power.\"\n\nLooking back upon that time now, I recall, with a thrill, the pride that\nstirred me at the thought that, after all, the inhabitants of the Earth\nwere a match for those terrible men from Mars, despite all the advantage\nwhich they had gained from their millions of years of prior civilization\nand science.\n\nAs good fortunes, like bad, never come singly, the news of Mr.", "suggested, \"and since she can speak the\nlanguage of the Martians we shall probably have no difficulty in arriving\nat an understanding.\"\n\nAccordingly the flagship was carefully brought further down in front\nof the entrance to the palace, which had been kept clear by the Martian\nguards, and while the remainder of the squadron assembled within a few\nfeet directly over our heads with the disintegrators turned upon the\npalace and the crowd below. Mr. Edison and myself, accompanied by Aina,\nstepped out upon the ground.\n\nThere was a forward movement in", "one,\nas far as we could see, was still in a proper condition for use.\n\nHow had these creatures got there?\n\n\"Why, that is easy enough to account for,\" I said, as a sudden\nrecollection flashed into my mind. \"Don't you remember the report of\nthe astronomers more than six months ago, at the end of the conference\nin Washington, that something would seem to indicate the departure of a\nnew expedition from Mars had been noticed by them? We have heard nothing\nof that expedition since. We know that it did not reach the earth. It\n", "some of the neighboring electric ships of the\nsquadron. Several other learned men were summoned in haste from them to\nexamine our new treasure.\n\nThe Martian, whose good nature had manifestly been growing day after day,\nwatched our inspection of his book with evidences of great interest, not\nunmingled with amusement. Finally he beckoned the holder of the book to\nhis side, and placing his broad finger upon one of the huge letters--if\nletters they were, for they more nearly resembled the characters employed\nby the Chinese printer--he ut", "\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nThis enthusiasm would have had but little justification had Mr. Edison\ndone nothing more than invent a machine which could navigate the\natmosphere and the regions of interplanetary space.\n\nHe had, however, and this fact was generally known, although the details\nhad not yet leaked out--invented also machines of war intended to meet\nthe utmost that the Martians could do for either offence or defence in\nthe struggle which was now about to ensue.\n\n\nA Wonderful Instrument.\n\nActing upon the", "which produced an ineradicable impression. The\nPresident of the United States, of course, presided. Representatives\nof the greater powers occupied the front seats, and some of them were\nhonored with special chairs near the President.\n\nNo time was wasted in preliminaries. The President made a brief speech.\n\n\"We have come together,\" he said, \"to consider a question that equally\ninterests the whole earth. I need not remind you that unexpectedly and\nwithout provocation on our part the people--the monsters, I should\nrather say--of Mars", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "Great Sphinx and the\nPyramids.\n\nI shall never forget one occasion, when, lying flat on the ground,\nand cautiously worming our way around on the side toward Mars, we had\njust begun to observe it with our telescopes, when I perceived, against\nthe vast curtain of smoke, a small, glinting object, which I instantly\nsuspected to be an airship.\n\nI called Mr. Edison's attention to it, and we both agreed that it was,\nundoubtedly, one of the Martians' aerial vessels,", "\n\"How are we going to dig it and get it back to earth?\" asked another.\n\n\"Carry it in your pockets,\" said one.\n\n\"No need of staking claims here,\" remarked another. \"There is enough\nfor everybody.\"\n\nMr. Edison suddenly turned the current of talk.\n\n\"What do you suppose those Martians were doing here?\"\n\n\"Why, they were wrecked here.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"According to your own showing they\ncould not have been wrecked here. This planet", "of Colonel Smith, who had so frequently stalked Indians that\ndevices of this kind readily occurred to his mind, the sentinels all\nwore garments corresponding in color to that of the soil of the asteroid,\nwhich was of a dark, reddish brown hue. This would tend to conceal them\nfrom the prying eyes of the Martians.\n\nThe commander himself frequently went around the edge of the planet in\norder to take a look at Mars, and I often accompanied him.\n\n\nMarvellous Discoveries.\n\nThe Martians Were the Builders of the", "that would fit the facts before us. Certainly the\nMartian could not breathe where there was practically no air, yet just\nas certainly after he had swallowed his pill he seemed as comfortable\nas any of us.\n\n\nSignals from a Ship.\n\nSuddenly, while we were gathered around the prisoner, and interested\nin this fresh evidence of the wonderful ingenuity of the Martians, and\nof their control over the processes of nature, one of the electrical\nships that had been sent off in the direction of Mars was seen rapidly\nreturning and displaying signals.\n\n\nThe" ], [ "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nThis enthusiasm would have had but little justification had Mr. Edison\ndone nothing more than invent a machine which could navigate the\natmosphere and the regions of interplanetary space.\n\nHe had, however, and this fact was generally known, although the details\nhad not yet leaked out--invented also machines of war intended to meet\nthe utmost that the Martians could do for either offence or defence in\nthe struggle which was now about to ensue.\n\n\nA Wonderful Instrument.\n\nActing upon the", "almost joyous cry. \"We shall be ready for\nthem now. The Americans have solved the problem. Edison has placed\nthe means of victory within our power.\"\n\nLooking back upon that time now, I recall, with a thrill, the pride that\nstirred me at the thought that, after all, the inhabitants of the Earth\nwere a match for those terrible men from Mars, despite all the advantage\nwhich they had gained from their millions of years of prior civilization\nand science.\n\nAs good fortunes, like bad, never come singly, the news of Mr.", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "leader, and then hurried back to their projectile and disappeared\nwithin it.\n\n\"Now we've got business on our hands,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Look out for\nyourselves.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I saw the death-dealing knob of the war engine contained\nin the car of the Martians moving around toward us. In another instant\nit would have launched its destroying bolt.\n\nBefore that could occur, however, it had been dissipated into space by\na vibratory stream from a disintegrator.\n\nBut we were not to", "the\nexpedition. Mr. Edison, however, had confided to me before we left\nthe earth the fact that he had invented a little instrument by means of\nwhich a bubble, strongly charged with a powerful anaesthetic agent, could\nbe driven to a considerable distance into the face of an enemy, where,\nexploding without other damage, it would instantly put him to sleep.\n\nWhen Tom had placed the instrument in his hands Mr. Edison ordered the\nelectrical ship to forge slightly ahead and drop a little lower toward\nthe Martian, who, with watchful", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "\n\nBut several of us, with Mr. Edison, stood fast, watching\nfor an opportunity to get the Martians within range of the\ndisintegrators. Luckily we were enabled, by shifting our position a\nlittle to the left, to get out of the line of sight of our enemies\nconcealed in the car.\n\n\"If we cannot catch sight of them,\" said Mr. Edison, \"we shall have to\nriddle the car on the chance of hitting them.\"\n\n\"It will be like firing into a bush to kill a hidden bear,\" said one of", "get the victory quite so easily. There was another\nof the war engines in the car, and before we could concentrate our fire\nupon it, its awful flash shot forth, and a dozen of our comrades perished\nbefore our eyes.\n\n\"Quick! Quick!\" shouted Mr. Edison to one of his electrical experts\nstanding near. \"There is something the matter with this disintegrator,\nand I cannot make it work. Aim at the knob, and don't miss it.\"\n\n\nMartians and Terrestrians Fight a Terrible Battle.\n\nBut", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "if he could once get us within\nhis clutches.\n\nMr. Edison and I still stood upon the deck of the ship, where several\nothers had gathered around us. The atmosphere of the little asteroid\nwas so rare that it practically amounted to nothing, and we could not\npossibly have survived if we had not continued to wear our air-tight\nsuits. How the Martians contrived to live here was a mystery to us. It\nwas another of their secrets which we were yet to learn.\n\nMr. Edison retained his disintegrator in his hand", "Edison's\ndiscovery was quickly followed by additional glad tidings from that\nlaboratory of marvels in the lap of the Orange mountains. During their\ncareer of conquest the Martians had astonished the inhabitants of the\nearth no less with their flying machines--which navigated our atmosphere\nas easily as they had that of their native planet--than with their more\ndestructive inventions. These flying machines in themselves had given\nthem an enormous advantage in the contest. High above the desolation\nthat they had caused to reign on the surface of the earth, and, out", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "eyes and threatening gestures, noted\nour approach in the attitude of a wild beast on the spring. Suddenly\nMr. Edison discharged from the instrument in his hand a little gaseous\nglobe, which glittered like a ball of tangled rainbows in the sunshine,\nand darted with astonishing velocity straight into the upturned face of\nthe Martian. It burst as it touched and the monster fell back senseless\nupon the ground.\n\n\nOne of the Bellicose Martians Falls Into the Hands of the\nWorldians.\n", "had no doubt that if we could not resist\ntheir effects we might at least be able to avoid them by the rapidity of\nour motions. As he pointed out, the war machines which the Martians had\nemployed in their invasion of the earth, were really very awkward and\nunmanageable affairs. Mr. Edison's electrical ships, on the other hand,\nwere marvels of speed and of manageability. They could dart about, turn,\nreverse their course, rise, fall, with the quickness and ease of a fish\nin the water. Mr. Edis", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "by the Disintegrator.\n\nThe soft whirr of the disintegrator in the hands of Mr. Edison standing\nnear me came to my ears through the telephonic wire. He quickly swept\nthe concentrating mirror a little up and down, and instantly the foremost\nMartian vanished! Part of some metallic dress that he wore fell upon the\nground where he had stood, its vibratory rate not having been included\nin the range imparted to the disintegrator.\n\nHis followers paused for a moment, amazed, stared about as if looking for\ntheir" ], [ "and they evidently understood that also. As we approached the\npalace signals were made from it with brilliant colored banners which\nAina informed us were intended as a token of truce.\n\n\"We shall have to go down and have a confab with them, I suppose,\"\nsaid Mr. Edison. \"We can't kill them off now that they are helpless,\nbut we must manage somehow to make them understand that unconditional\nsurrender is their only chance.\"\n\n\nA Parley with the Enemy.\n\n\"Let us take Aina with us,\" I", "native teacher during a period of six months can\nconverse in a foreign tongue.\n\nImmediately almost every man in the squadron set vigorously at work to\nlearn the language of this fair creature for himself. Colonel Smith and\nSidney Phillips were neck and neck in the linguistic race.\n\nOne of the first bits of information which the Professor had given out\nwas the name of the girl.\n\n\nWe Learn Her Name.\n\nIt was Aina (pronounced Ah-ee-na).\n\nThis news was flashed throughout the squadron, and the name of", "until Aina had so far recovered that she was once more able to act\nas our interpreter. Then we made short work of the negotiations.\nSpeaking through Aina, the commander said:\n\n\"You know who we are. We have come from the earth, which, by your command,\nwas laid waste. Our commission was not revenge, but self-protection. What\nwe have done has been accomplished with that in view. You have just\nwitnessed an example of our power, the exercise of which was not dictated\nby our wish, but compelled by the attack wantonly made", "the order went forth\nthat we should all be butchered, and that awful command was executed!\"\n\n\"How, then, did you escape?\" asked the Heidelberg Professor.\n\nAina seemed unable to speak for a while. Finally mastering her emotion,\nshe replied:\n\n\nHer Fortunate Escape.\n\n\"One of the chief officers of the Martians wished me to remain alive. He,\nwith his aides, carried me to one of the military depot of supplies,\nwhere I was found and rescued,\" and as she said this she turned toward\nColonel", "but it was deemed best that the Heidelberg Professor,\nassisted by one of his colleagues, should act as interpreter.\n\nThe girl, flushed with excitement of the novel situation, fully\nappreciating the importance of what was about to occur, and looking\nmore charming than before, stood at one side of the principal\napartment. Directly facing her were the interpreters, and the rest of\nus, all with ears intent and eyes focused upon Aina, stood in a double\nrow behind them.\n\nAs heretofore, I am setting down her words translated into our own", "afterward I saw that he regretted\nwhat he had said, for Aina's eyes were fixed upon him. Perhaps, however,\nshe did not understand his remark, and perhaps if she did it gave her\nno offence.\n\nAfter this episode we pursued our way rapidly until we arrived at the\nshore of the Southern Ocean. There, as we had expected, was to be seen\na narrow strip of land with the ocean on one side and the raging flood\nseeking to destroy it on the other. In some places it had been already\nbroken through, so that the ocean was", "toes, its fountains as clear,\n As the love-lighted eyes that hang over the wave.\"\n\nMr. Sidney Phillips, standing by, and also catching the murmur of Colonel\nSmith's words, showed in his handsome countenance some indications of\ndistress, as if he wished he had thought of those lines himself.\n\n\nAina Tells Her Story.\n\nThe girl resumed her narrative:\n\n\"Suddenly there dropped down out of the sky strange gigantic enemies,\narmed with mysterious weapons, and began to slay and burn", "to which of them should assist Aina. To settle the\ndispute I took charge of her myself.\n\nAt length we were all safely in the tree.\n\nThen followed the still more dangerous undertaking of descending from\nthis great height to the ground. Fortunately, the branches were very\nclose together and they extended down within a short distance of the\nsoil. So the actual difficulties of the descent were not very great\nafter all. The one thing that we had particularly to bear in mind was\nthe absolute necessity of making no noise.\n\nAt length the descent was successfully accomplished, and we all", "Smith with a smile that reflected on his ruddy face and made it\nglow like a Chinese lantern.\n\n\"By ----!\" muttered Colonel Smith, \"that was the fellow we blew into\nnothing! Blast him, he got off too easy!\"\n\nThe remainder of Aina's story may be briefly told.\n\nWhen Colonel Smith and I entered the mysterious building which, as it\nnow proved, was not a storehouse belonging to a village, as we had\nsupposed, but one of the military depots of the Martians, the girl,\non catching sight of", "\n\nThe contrast between his truly terrible countenance and the Eve-like\nfeatures of the women who surrounded his throne was as great as if Satan\nafter his fall had here re-enthroned himself in the midst of angels.\n\nMr. Edison, Colonel Smith, Sidney Phillips, Aina and myself advanced at\nthe head of the procession, our guard following in close order behind\nus. It had been evident from the moment that we entered the palace that\nAina was regarded with aversion by all of the Martians. Even the women\nabout the throne gazed sc", "clear to me that the feeling aroused by her appearance was every\nmoment becoming more intense. Still, the thought of a violent outbreak\ndid not occur to me, because our recent triumph had seemed so complete\nthat I believed the Martians would be awed by our presence, and would\nnot undertake actually to injure the girl.\n\nI think we all had the same impression, but as the event proved, we\nwere mistaken.\n\nSuddenly one of the gigantic guards, as if actuated by a fit of\nungovernable hatred, lifted his foot and kicked Aina. With", "ers to questions which could not be solved at home.\n\nBut from these speculations and retrospects we were recalled by the\ncommander of the expedition.\n\n\nDoes Aina Hold the Secret?\n\n\"This is all very interesting and very romantic, gentlemen,\" he said,\n\"but now let us get at the practical side of it. We have learned Aina's\nlanguage and have heard her story. Let us next ascertain whether\nshe cannot place in our hands some key which will place Mars at our\nmercy. Remember what we came here for, and remember that the", "Edison, Colonel\nSmith, Mr. Sidney Phillips and myself.\n\nBoth by her own request and because we could not help feeling that her\nknowledge of the locality would be indispensable to us, Aina was also\nincluded in our party, but not, of course, as a fighting member of it.\n\nIt was about an hour after midnight when the ship in which we were to\nmake the venture parted from the remainder of the squadron and dropped\ncautiously down. The blaze of electric lights running away in various\ndirections indicated the lines", "the immense crowd, but the guards sternly\nkept everybody back. A party of a dozen giants, preceded by one who\nseemed to be their commander, gorgeously attired in jewelled garments,\nadvanced from the entrance of the palace to meet us. Aina addressed a\nfew words to the leader, who replied sternly, and then, beckoning us to\nfollow, retraced his steps into the palace.\n\nNotwithstanding our confidence that all resistance had ceased, we did\nnot deem it wise actually to venture into the lion's den without having", ", had named the Vale of Cashmere as the probable site of the\nGarden of Eden, and the place of origin of the human race, but later\ninvestigators had taken issue with this opinion, and the question where\nthe Aryans originated upon the earth had long been one of the most\npuzzling that science presented.\n\nThis question seemed now to have been settled.\n\nAina had said that Mars had completed 5,000 circuits about the sun since\nher people were brought to it as captives. One circuit of Mars occupies\n6", "out in the Land\nof Sand, and a partial vengeance was granted to us in the destruction\nof the larger number of our enemies. At last the giants who remained,\nfleeing before this scourge of the gods, used the mysterious means at\ntheir command, and, carrying our ancestors with them, returned to their\nown world, in which we have ever since lived.\"\n\n\"Then there are more of your people in Mars?\" said one of the professors.\n\n\"Alas, no,\" replied Aina, her eyes filling with tears, \"I alone am left.\"", "a loud shriek,\nshe fell to the floor.\n\n\nAina Attacked by a Martian.\n\nThe blow was so unexpected that for a second we all remained riveted to\nthe spot. Then I saw Colonel Smith's face turn livid, and at the same\ninstant heard the whirr of his disintegrator, while Sidney Phillips,\nforgetting the deadly instrument that he carried in his hand, sprung madly\ntoward the brute who had kicked Aina, as if he intended to throttle him,\ncolossus as he", "then, was\nthe explanation of how those gigantic blocks that constitute the great\nPyramid of Cheops had been swung to their lofty elevation. It was not the\nwork of puny man, as many an engineer had declared that it could not be,\nbut the work of these giants of Mars.\n\n\nAina's Wonderful Story.\n\nThe Martians' Beautiful Prisoner Recounts Her Marvellous\nAdventures.\n\nAina resumed her story.\n\n\"At length, our traditions say, a great pestilence broke", "earth\nexpects every man of us to do his duty.\"\n\nThis Nelson-like summons again changed the current of our thoughts,\nand we instantly set to work to learn from Aina if Mars, like Achilles,\nhad not some vulnerable point where a blow would be mortal.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIV.\n\n\nIt was a curious scene when the momentous interview which was to\ndetermine our fate and that of Mars began. Aina had been warned of what\nwas coming. We in the flagship had all learned to speak her language with\nmore or less ease,", "of guards on either side crinkling beams of death-fire that\nseemed to sear the eyeballs. I saw a half a dozen of our men fall in\nheaps of ashes, and even at that terrible moment I had time to wonder\nthat a single one of us remained alive.\n\nRather by instinct than in consequence of any order given, we formed\nourselves in a hollow square, with Aina lying apparently lifeless in\nthe centre, and then with gritted teeth we did our work.\n\nThe lines of guards melted before the disintegrators like rows of snow" ], [ "their conquest of our world.\"\n\nAt this point in the story the Heidelberg Professor again broke in,\nfairly trembling with excitement:\n\n\nThe Wonders of the Martians!\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen,\" he cried, \"is it that you do not understand? This\nLand of Sand and of a wonderful fertilizing river--what can it\nbe? Gentlemen, it is Egypt! These mountains of rock that the Martians\nhave erected, what are they? Gentlemen, they are the great mystery of the\nland of the", "87 days. More than 9,000 years had therefore elapsed since the first\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians.\n\nAnother great mystery--that of the origin of those gigantic and\ninexplicable monuments, the great pyramids and the Sphinx, on the banks of\nthe Nile, had also apparently been solved by us, although these Egyptian\nwonders had been the furthest things from our thoughts when we set out\nfor the planet Mars.\n\nWe had travelled more than thirty millions of miles in order to get\nansw", "Great Sphinx and the\nPyramids.\n\nI shall never forget one occasion, when, lying flat on the ground,\nand cautiously worming our way around on the side toward Mars, we had\njust begun to observe it with our telescopes, when I perceived, against\nthe vast curtain of smoke, a small, glinting object, which I instantly\nsuspected to be an airship.\n\nI called Mr. Edison's attention to it, and we both agreed that it was,\nundoubtedly, one of the Martians' aerial vessels,", "And in this Land of Sand, it is said, they did many wonderful works.\"\n\n\"They had been astonished at the sight of the great mountains which\nsurrounded our valley, for on Mars there are no mountains, and after\nthey came into the Land of Sand they built there with huge blocks of\nstone mountains in imitation of what they had seen, and used them for\npurposes that our people did not understand.\"\n\n\"Then, too, it is said they left there at the foot of these mountains\nthat they had made a gigantic image of the great chief who led them in\n", ". That\nmonster was more directly responsible than any other inhabitant of Mars\nfor all the wickedness of which they have been guilty.\"\n\n\"The expedition against the earth was inspired solely by him. There is\na tradition among the Martians--which my people, however, could never\ncredit--that he possessed a kind of immortality. They declared that it\nwas he who led the former expedition against the earth when my ancestors\nwere brought away prisoners from their happy home, and that it was his\nimage which they had set up in stone in the midst of the Land of Sand. He", "then, was\nthe explanation of how those gigantic blocks that constitute the great\nPyramid of Cheops had been swung to their lofty elevation. It was not the\nwork of puny man, as many an engineer had declared that it could not be,\nbut the work of these giants of Mars.\n\n\nAina's Wonderful Story.\n\nThe Martians' Beautiful Prisoner Recounts Her Marvellous\nAdventures.\n\nAina resumed her story.\n\n\"At length, our traditions say, a great pestilence broke", "the days\nof our forefathers, in the Land of Sand, a pestilence smote them, and\nbut few survivors escaped.\"\n\n\"Not long after that, you, with your mysterious ships, appeared in the\nsky of Mars. Our masters studied you with their telescopes, and those\nwho had returned from the unfortunate expedition declared that you\nwere inhabitants of the world which they had invaded, come, doubtless,\nto take vengeance upon them.\"\n\n\"Some of my people who were permitted to look through the telescopes of\nthe Martians, saw you", "Nile, the Pyramids. The gigantic statue of their leader that\nthey at the foot of their artificial mountains have set up--gentlemen,\nwhat is that? It is the Sphinx!\"\n\nThe Professor's agitation was so great that he could go no further. And\nindeed there was not one of us who did not fully share his excitement. To\nthink that we should have come to the planet Mars to solve one of the\nstanding mysteries of the earth, which had puzzled mankind and defied\nall their efforts at solution for so many centuries! Here,", "of innumerable canals with habitations\ncrowded along their banks, which came to a focus at a point on the\ncontinent of Aeria, westward from the Syrtis Major.\n\n\nDestroying The Martians.\n\nWith Aina's Aid Our Warriors Prepare an Awful Revenge on the Enemy.\n\nWe stopped the electrical ship at an elevation of perhaps three hundred\nfeet above the vast roof of a structure which Aina assured us was the\nbuilding we were in search of.\n\nHere we remained for a few minutes, caut", "were extinguished. The precaution of the commander even went\nso far as to have the smooth metallic sides of the cars blackened over\nso that they should not reflect light, and thus become visible to the\nMartians as shining specks, moving suspiciously among the stars.\n\nThe precise location of the great power house on the shores of the Syrtis\nMajor having been carefully ascertained, the squadron dropped down one\nnight into the upper limits of the Martian atmosphere, directly over\nthe gulf.\n\nThen a consultation was called on the flagship and", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "en developed in the proper way the knowledge of nature's laws came to\nthem without effort, as a spring bubbles from the rocks.\n\nOne word of explanation may be needed concerning the failure of the\nMartians, with all their marvellous powers, to invent electrical ships\nlike those of Mr. Edison and engines of destruction comparable with our\ndisintegrators. This failure was simply due to the fact that on Mars\nthere did not exist the peculiar metals by the combination of which\nMr. Edison had been able to effect his wonders. The theory involved in\nour", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "destroyed by the Martians,\nso that communication between the Eastern and Western continents was\nuninterrupted. It was a proud day for America. Even while the Martians\nhad been upon the earth, carrying everything before them, demonstrating\nto the confusion of the most optimistic that there was no possibility\nof standing against them, a feeling--a confidence had manifested itself\nin France, to a minor extent in England, and particularly in Russia,\nthat the Americans might discover means to meet and master the invaders.\n\nNow, it seemed, this hope and expectation were to be realized. Too\n", "of Colonel Smith, who had so frequently stalked Indians that\ndevices of this kind readily occurred to his mind, the sentinels all\nwore garments corresponding in color to that of the soil of the asteroid,\nwhich was of a dark, reddish brown hue. This would tend to conceal them\nfrom the prying eyes of the Martians.\n\nThe commander himself frequently went around the edge of the planet in\norder to take a look at Mars, and I often accompanied him.\n\n\nMarvellous Discoveries.\n\nThe Martians Were the Builders of the", "lies below the level\nof the oceans. In order at the same time to irrigate the soil and make it\nfruitful, and to protect themselves from overflows by the ocean breaking\nin upon them, the Martians have constructed the immense and innumerable\ncanals which you see running in all directions over the continents.\"\n\n\"There is one period in the year, and that period has now arrived, when\nthere is special danger of a great deluge. Most of the oceans of Mars\nlie in the southern hemisphere. When it is Summer in that hemis", "ists,\nmathematicians, mechanicians, meteorologists and experts in mining,\nmetallurgy and every other branch of practical science, as well as\nartists and photographers. It was but reasonable to believe that in\nanother world, and a world so much older than the earth as Mars was,\nthese men would be able to gather materials in comparison with which\nthe discoveries made among the ruins of ancient empires in Egypt and\nBabylonia would be insignificant indeed.\n\n\nTo Conquer Another World.\n\nIt was a wonderful undert", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "was of enormous size, and his\nhuge projecting eyes gleamed with a strange fire of intelligence. His face\nwas like a caricature, but not one to make the beholder laugh. Drawing\nhimself up, he towered to a height of at least fifteen feet.\n\nBut let the reader not suppose from this inadequate description that the\nMartians stirred in the beholder precisely the sensation that would be\ncaused by the sight of a gorilla, or other repulsive inhabitant of one\nof our terrestrial jungles, suddenly confronting him", "also, and recognized you as members of their own\nrace. There were several thousand of us, altogether, and we were kept by\nthe Martians to serve them as slaves, and particularly to delight their\nears with music, for our people have always been especially skilful in\nthe playing of musical instruments, and in songs, and while the Martians\nhave but little musical skill themselves, they are exceedingly fond of\nthese things.\"\n\n\nAwaiting a Rescue.\n\n\"Although Mars had completed not less than five thousand circuits about\nthe sun since our ancestors were" ], [ "suggested, \"and since she can speak the\nlanguage of the Martians we shall probably have no difficulty in arriving\nat an understanding.\"\n\nAccordingly the flagship was carefully brought further down in front\nof the entrance to the palace, which had been kept clear by the Martian\nguards, and while the remainder of the squadron assembled within a few\nfeet directly over our heads with the disintegrators turned upon the\npalace and the crowd below. Mr. Edison and myself, accompanied by Aina,\nstepped out upon the ground.\n\nThere was a forward movement in", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "not merely blew\nhim into a cloud of atoms, but opened a great cavity in the ground on\nthe spot where he had stood.\n\nA shout arose from the Martians, but they were too much astounded at\nwhat had occurred to make any hostile demonstrations, and, anyhow,\nthey knew well that they were completely at our mercy.\n\nMr. Edison was on the point of rebuking Colonel Smith for what he had\ndone, but Aina interposed.\n\n\"I am glad it was done,\" said she, \"for now only can you be safe", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "almost joyous cry. \"We shall be ready for\nthem now. The Americans have solved the problem. Edison has placed\nthe means of victory within our power.\"\n\nLooking back upon that time now, I recall, with a thrill, the pride that\nstirred me at the thought that, after all, the inhabitants of the Earth\nwere a match for those terrible men from Mars, despite all the advantage\nwhich they had gained from their millions of years of prior civilization\nand science.\n\nAs good fortunes, like bad, never come singly, the news of Mr.", "the order went forth\nthat we should all be butchered, and that awful command was executed!\"\n\n\"How, then, did you escape?\" asked the Heidelberg Professor.\n\nAina seemed unable to speak for a while. Finally mastering her emotion,\nshe replied:\n\n\nHer Fortunate Escape.\n\n\"One of the chief officers of the Martians wished me to remain alive. He,\nwith his aides, carried me to one of the military depot of supplies,\nwhere I was found and rescued,\" and as she said this she turned toward\nColonel", "Smith with a smile that reflected on his ruddy face and made it\nglow like a Chinese lantern.\n\n\"By ----!\" muttered Colonel Smith, \"that was the fellow we blew into\nnothing! Blast him, he got off too easy!\"\n\nThe remainder of Aina's story may be briefly told.\n\nWhen Colonel Smith and I entered the mysterious building which, as it\nnow proved, was not a storehouse belonging to a village, as we had\nsupposed, but one of the military depots of the Martians, the girl,\non catching sight of", "and they evidently understood that also. As we approached the\npalace signals were made from it with brilliant colored banners which\nAina informed us were intended as a token of truce.\n\n\"We shall have to go down and have a confab with them, I suppose,\"\nsaid Mr. Edison. \"We can't kill them off now that they are helpless,\nbut we must manage somehow to make them understand that unconditional\nsurrender is their only chance.\"\n\n\nA Parley with the Enemy.\n\n\"Let us take Aina with us,\" I", "sea,\nto slowly shut in, edge to edge, until the flow of the water toward the\nnorth had been stopped.\"\n\n\"How is the building protected?\"\n\n\"So completely,\" replied Aina, \"that my only fear is that you may not be\nable to reach it. On account of the danger from their enemies on Ceres,\nthe Martians have fortified it strongly on all sides, and have even\nsurrounded it and covered it overhead with a great electrical network,\nto touch which would be instant death.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Mr. Edison, \"", "dison, in a whisper.\n\n\"Come softly this way, and look out for the sentinel,\" replied Aina.\n\nGripping our disintegrators firmly, and screwing up our courage, with\nnoiseless steps we followed the girl among the shadows of the trees.\n\nWe had one very great advantage. The Martians had evidently placed so\nmuch confidence in the electric network which surrounded the power house\nthat they never dreamed of enemies being able to penetrate it--at least,\nwithout giving warning of their coming.\n\nBut the hole which we had", "of innumerable canals with habitations\ncrowded along their banks, which came to a focus at a point on the\ncontinent of Aeria, westward from the Syrtis Major.\n\n\nDestroying The Martians.\n\nWith Aina's Aid Our Warriors Prepare an Awful Revenge on the Enemy.\n\nWe stopped the electrical ship at an elevation of perhaps three hundred\nfeet above the vast roof of a structure which Aina assured us was the\nbuilding we were in search of.\n\nHere we remained for a few minutes, caut", "ers to questions which could not be solved at home.\n\nBut from these speculations and retrospects we were recalled by the\ncommander of the expedition.\n\n\nDoes Aina Hold the Secret?\n\n\"This is all very interesting and very romantic, gentlemen,\" he said,\n\"but now let us get at the practical side of it. We have learned Aina's\nlanguage and have heard her story. Let us next ascertain whether\nshe cannot place in our hands some key which will place Mars at our\nmercy. Remember what we came here for, and remember that the", "leader, and then hurried back to their projectile and disappeared\nwithin it.\n\n\"Now we've got business on our hands,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Look out for\nyourselves.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I saw the death-dealing knob of the war engine contained\nin the car of the Martians moving around toward us. In another instant\nit would have launched its destroying bolt.\n\nBefore that could occur, however, it had been dissipated into space by\na vibratory stream from a disintegrator.\n\nBut we were not to", "get the victory quite so easily. There was another\nof the war engines in the car, and before we could concentrate our fire\nupon it, its awful flash shot forth, and a dozen of our comrades perished\nbefore our eyes.\n\n\"Quick! Quick!\" shouted Mr. Edison to one of his electrical experts\nstanding near. \"There is something the matter with this disintegrator,\nand I cannot make it work. Aim at the knob, and don't miss it.\"\n\n\nMartians and Terrestrians Fight a Terrible Battle.\n\nBut", "greater than themselves. Their enemies from Ceres have\nattacked them here. Hence these fortifications, with weapons pointing\nskyward, and the great air fleets which you have encountered.\"\n\n\"But there must be some point,\" said Mr. Edison, \"where we can.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" interrupted the girl quickly, \"there is one blow you can\ndeal them which they could not withstand.\"\n\n\"What is that?\" eagerly inquired the commander.\n\n\"You can drown them out.\"\n\n\"How? With the canals?\"\n\n", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "the\nexpedition. Mr. Edison, however, had confided to me before we left\nthe earth the fact that he had invented a little instrument by means of\nwhich a bubble, strongly charged with a powerful anaesthetic agent, could\nbe driven to a considerable distance into the face of an enemy, where,\nexploding without other damage, it would instantly put him to sleep.\n\nWhen Tom had placed the instrument in his hands Mr. Edison ordered the\nelectrical ship to forge slightly ahead and drop a little lower toward\nthe Martian, who, with watchful", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it" ], [ ", must now conjoin. They must unite\ntheir resources, and, if necessary, exhaust all their hoards, in order\nto raise the needed sum.\n\n\nThe Yankees Lead.\n\nNegotiations were at once begun. The United States naturally took the\nlead, and their leadership was never for a moment questioned abroad.\n\nWashington was selected as the place of meeting for a great congress\nof the nations. Washington, luckily, had been one of the places which\nhad not been touched by the Martians. But if Washington had been a\ncity composed of hotels", "which produced an ineradicable impression. The\nPresident of the United States, of course, presided. Representatives\nof the greater powers occupied the front seats, and some of them were\nhonored with special chairs near the President.\n\nNo time was wasted in preliminaries. The President made a brief speech.\n\n\"We have come together,\" he said, \"to consider a question that equally\ninterests the whole earth. I need not remind you that unexpectedly and\nwithout provocation on our part the people--the monsters, I should\nrather say--of Mars", "\nannounced that after the meeting had adjourned an exhibition of the\nflying powers of the ship would be given in the open air.\n\nThese experiments, together with the accompanying explanations, added\nto what had already been disseminated through the public press, were\nquite sufficient to convince all the representatives who had assembled\nin Washington that the problem of how to conquer the Martians had\nbeen solved. The means were plainly at hand. It only remained to apply\nthem. For this purpose, as the President had pointed out, it would be\nnecessary to raise a very large", "destroyed by the Martians,\nso that communication between the Eastern and Western continents was\nuninterrupted. It was a proud day for America. Even while the Martians\nhad been upon the earth, carrying everything before them, demonstrating\nto the confusion of the most optimistic that there was no possibility\nof standing against them, a feeling--a confidence had manifested itself\nin France, to a minor extent in England, and particularly in Russia,\nthat the Americans might discover means to meet and master the invaders.\n\nNow, it seemed, this hope and expectation were to be realized. Too\n", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "from the world. The telegraph lines and the ocean cables\nlabored with the messages that in endless succession, and burdened with\nan infinity of detail, were sent all over the earth. Everywhere the\nutmost enthusiasm was aroused.\n\n\"Let the Martians come,\" was the cry. \"If necessary, we can quit the\nearth as the Athenians fled from Athens before the advancing host of\nXerxes, and like them, take refuge upon our ships--these new ships of\nspace, with which American inventiveness has furnished us.\"", "leader, and then hurried back to their projectile and disappeared\nwithin it.\n\n\"Now we've got business on our hands,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Look out for\nyourselves.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I saw the death-dealing knob of the war engine contained\nin the car of the Martians moving around toward us. In another instant\nit would have launched its destroying bolt.\n\nBefore that could occur, however, it had been dissipated into space by\na vibratory stream from a disintegrator.\n\nBut we were not to", "renees, and the heads of all the Central and South American\nrepublics, were coming to Washington to take part in the deliberations,\nwhich, it was felt, were to settle the fate of earth and Mars.\n\nOne day, after this announcement had been received, and the additional\nnews had come that nearly all the visiting monarchs had set out,\nattended by brilliant suites and convoyed by fleets of warships, for\ntheir destination, some coming across the Atlantic to the port of New\nYork, others across the Pacific to San Francisco, Mr. E", "represented the flower of the earth,\nthe culmination of the genius of the planet. The greatest leaders\nin science, both theoretical and practical, were there. It was the\nevolution of the earth against the evolution of Mars. It was a planet in\nthe heyday of its strength matched against an aged and decrepit world\nwhich, nevertheless, in consequence of its long ages of existence,\nhad acquired an experience which made it a most dangerous foe. On both\nsides there was desperation. The earth was desperate because it foresaw\ndestruction unless it could first destroy its enemy. Mars", "almost joyous cry. \"We shall be ready for\nthem now. The Americans have solved the problem. Edison has placed\nthe means of victory within our power.\"\n\nLooking back upon that time now, I recall, with a thrill, the pride that\nstirred me at the thought that, after all, the inhabitants of the Earth\nwere a match for those terrible men from Mars, despite all the advantage\nwhich they had gained from their millions of years of prior civilization\nand science.\n\nAs good fortunes, like bad, never come singly, the news of Mr.", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "by the unanimous and enthusiastic choice of the great assembly.\n\n\"How long a time do you require to put everything in readiness?\" asked\nthe President.\n\n\"Give me carte blanche,\" replied Mr. Edison, \"and I believe I can have\na hundred electric ships and three thousand disintegrators ready within\nsix months.\"\n\nA tremendous cheer greeted this announcement.\n\n\"Your powers are unlimited,\" said the President, \"draw on the fund for\nas much money as you need,\" whereupon the Treasurer of the United States\nwas made", "\n\"But, as you all know, the first feeling of relief which followed the\ndeath of our foes was quickly succeeded by the fearful news which came to\nus from the observatories, that the Martians were undoubtedly preparing\nfor a second invasion of our planet. Against this we should have had no\nrecourse and no hope but for the genius of one of my countrymen, who,\nas you are all aware, has perfected means which may enable us not only\nto withstand the attack of those awful enemies, but to meet them, and,\nlet us hope, to", "threatening preparations in Mars, the kings and queens\nof the old world felt that they could not remain at home; that their\nproper place was at the new focus and centre of the whole world--the\ncity of Washington. Without concerted action, without interchange of\nsuggestion, this impulse seemed to seize all the old world monarchs\nat once. Suddenly cablegrams flashed to the Government at Washington,\nannouncing that Queen Victoria, the Emperor William, the Czar Nicholas,\nAlphonso of Spain, with his mother, Maria Christina; the old Emperor", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "their conquest of our world.\"\n\nAt this point in the story the Heidelberg Professor again broke in,\nfairly trembling with excitement:\n\n\nThe Wonders of the Martians!\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen,\" he cried, \"is it that you do not understand? This\nLand of Sand and of a wonderful fertilizing river--what can it\nbe? Gentlemen, it is Egypt! These mountains of rock that the Martians\nhave erected, what are they? Gentlemen, they are the great mystery of the\nland of the", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "suggested, \"and since she can speak the\nlanguage of the Martians we shall probably have no difficulty in arriving\nat an understanding.\"\n\nAccordingly the flagship was carefully brought further down in front\nof the entrance to the palace, which had been kept clear by the Martian\nguards, and while the remainder of the squadron assembled within a few\nfeet directly over our heads with the disintegrators turned upon the\npalace and the crowd below. Mr. Edison and myself, accompanied by Aina,\nstepped out upon the ground.\n\nThere was a forward movement in" ], [ "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "by the unanimous and enthusiastic choice of the great assembly.\n\n\"How long a time do you require to put everything in readiness?\" asked\nthe President.\n\n\"Give me carte blanche,\" replied Mr. Edison, \"and I believe I can have\na hundred electric ships and three thousand disintegrators ready within\nsix months.\"\n\nA tremendous cheer greeted this announcement.\n\n\"Your powers are unlimited,\" said the President, \"draw on the fund for\nas much money as you need,\" whereupon the Treasurer of the United States\nwas made", "\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nThis enthusiasm would have had but little justification had Mr. Edison\ndone nothing more than invent a machine which could navigate the\natmosphere and the regions of interplanetary space.\n\nHe had, however, and this fact was generally known, although the details\nhad not yet leaked out--invented also machines of war intended to meet\nthe utmost that the Martians could do for either offence or defence in\nthe struggle which was now about to ensue.\n\n\nA Wonderful Instrument.\n\nActing upon the", "\nforce of the disintegrator should be directed. In this manner he caused an\ninkstand to disappear under the very nose of the Emperor William without a\nspot of ink being scattered upon his sacred person, but evidently the odor\nof the disunited atoms was not agreeable to the nostrils of the Kaiser.\n\nMr. Edison also explained in general terms the principle on which the\ninstrument worked. He was greeted with round after round of applause,\nand the spirit of the assembly rose high.\n\nNext the workings of the electrical ship were explained, and it was", "produce absolute darkness behind\nit. There would be no graduation of shadow. The sky would be as black\nas ink on all sides.\n\nWhile it was the intention to remain as much as possible within the cars,\nyet since it was probable that necessity would arise for occasionally\nquitting the interior of the electrical ships, Mr. Edison had provided for\nthis emergency by inventing an air-tight dress constructed somewhat after\nthe manner of a diver's suit, but of much lighter material. Each ship was\nprovided with several of these suits, by wearing which one could venture\nout", "the wars that had been waged by the nations for 2,000 years would\nbe insignificant. The electrical ships and the vibration engines must be\nconstructed by scores and thousands. Only Mr. Edison's immense resources\nand unrivaled equipment had enabled him to make the models whose powers\nhad been so satisfactorily shown. But to multiply these upon a war scale\nwas not only beyond the resources of any individual--hardly a nation on\nthe globe in the period of its greatest prosperity could have undertaken\nsuch a work. All the nations, then", "had no doubt that if we could not resist\ntheir effects we might at least be able to avoid them by the rapidity of\nour motions. As he pointed out, the war machines which the Martians had\nemployed in their invasion of the earth, were really very awkward and\nunmanageable affairs. Mr. Edison's electrical ships, on the other hand,\nwere marvels of speed and of manageability. They could dart about, turn,\nreverse their course, rise, fall, with the quickness and ease of a fish\nin the water. Mr. Edis", ",\nand seeing what we were about, at once said:\n\n\"I must provide against this danger. If I do not, there is a chance that\nwe shall arrive at Mars with the ships half empty and the crews floating\nhelplessly around us.\"\n\n\nEdison Always Prepared.\n\nMr. Edison's way of guarding against the danger was by contriving a\nlittle apparatus, modeled after that which was the governing force of the\nelectrical ships themselves, and which, being enclosed in the air-tight\nsuits, enabled their", "\n\nChapter IV.\n\n\nIt is not necessary for me to describe the manner in which Mr. Edison\nperformed his tremendous task. He was as good as his word, and within six\nmonths from the first stroke of the hammer, a hundred electrical ships,\neach provided with a full battery of disintegrators, were floating in\nthe air above the harbor and the partially rebuilt city of New York.\n\nIt was a wonderful scene. The polished sides of the huge floating cars\nsparkled in the sunlight, and, as they slowly rose and fell, and swung", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "\nAs we sat in the brilliantly lighted chamber that formed the interior of\nthe car, and where stores of compressed air had been provided together\nwith chemical apparatus, by means of which fresh supplies of oxygen\nand nitrogen might be obtained for our consumption during the flight\nthrough space, Mr. Edison touched a polished button, thus causing the\ngeneration of the required electrical charge on the exterior of the car,\nand immediately we began to rise.\n\nThe moment and direction of our flight had been so timed and prearranged,\nthat the original impulse would carry us straight", "\nThe Battle Commences.\n\nThe signal was given, and the circle of electrical ships closed in upon\nthe asteroid.\n\nIn the meantime Mr. Edison had been donning his air-tight suit. Before\nwe could clearly comprehend his intention he had passed through the\ndouble-trapped door which gave access to the exterior of the car without\npermitting the loss of air, and was standing upon what served as the\ndeck of the ship.\n\nIn his hand he carried a disintegrator. With a quick motion he sighted it.\n\nAs quickly as possible I", "Edison's\ndiscovery was quickly followed by additional glad tidings from that\nlaboratory of marvels in the lap of the Orange mountains. During their\ncareer of conquest the Martians had astonished the inhabitants of the\nearth no less with their flying machines--which navigated our atmosphere\nas easily as they had that of their native planet--than with their more\ndestructive inventions. These flying machines in themselves had given\nthem an enormous advantage in the contest. High above the desolation\nthat they had caused to reign on the surface of the earth, and, out", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "inventions was perfectly understood by them, and had they possessed\nthe means, doubtless they would have been able to carry it into practice\neven more effectively than we had done.\n\nAfter two or three days all the preparations having been completed,\nthe signal was given for our departure. The men of science were still\nunwilling to leave this strange world, but Mr. Edison decided that we\ncould linger no longer.\n\nAt the moment of starting a most tragic event occurred. Our fleet was\nassembled around the palace, and the signal was given to rise slowly to a\ncons", "en developed in the proper way the knowledge of nature's laws came to\nthem without effort, as a spring bubbles from the rocks.\n\nOne word of explanation may be needed concerning the failure of the\nMartians, with all their marvellous powers, to invent electrical ships\nlike those of Mr. Edison and engines of destruction comparable with our\ndisintegrators. This failure was simply due to the fact that on Mars\nthere did not exist the peculiar metals by the combination of which\nMr. Edison had been able to effect his wonders. The theory involved in\nour", "that would\nbe effective in such a contest.\n\nWith Mr. Edison and the other men of science away, they would not be\nable at home to construct such engines as we possessed, or to manage\nthem even if they were constructed.\n\nOur planet had staked everything on a single throw.\n\nThese considerations again steeled our hearts, and made us bear up as\nbravely as possible in the face of the terrible odds that confronted us.\n\nTurning the noses of our electrical ships toward the west, we began\nour circumnavigation.\n\n", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier" ], [ "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "the Martians to Be Foes Worth Fearing.\n\nThe eyes of man had never beheld such a spectacle!\n\nWhere a few minutes before the sunny face of a beautiful and populous\nplanet had been shining beneath us, there was now to be seen nothing but\nblack, billowing clouds, swelling up everywhere like the mouse-colored\nsmoke that pours from a great transatlantic liner when fresh coal has\njust been heaped upon her fires.\n\nIn some places the smoke spouted upward in huge jets to the height of\nseveral", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", ", with more than one-quarter of them\nsimultaneously. In the meantime the others would have surrounded and\nmight have destroyed us. We must first get some idea of the planet's\nmeans of defence before we ventured to assail it.\n\nHaving risen rapidly to a height of twenty-five or thirty miles, so that\nwe could feel confident that our ships had vanished at least from the\nnaked eye view of our enemies beneath, a brief consultation was held.\n\nIt was determined to adhere to our original programme and to\ncircumnavigate Mars in every", "Everywhere the cry now became, \"Let us make\nhaste! Let us get ready at once! Who knows but the Martians have already\nembarked, and are now on their way to destroy us?\"\n\nUnder the impulse of this new feeling, which, it must be admitted,\nwas very largely inspired by terror, the vast ballroom was quickly\ndeserted. The lights were suddenly put out in the great dome of balloons,\nfor someone had whispered:\n\n\"Suppose they should see that from Mars? Would they not guess what we\nwere about, and redouble", "the Martians began to speak\nto them in pantomime, using his fingers after the manner in which they\nare used for conversation by deaf and dumb people.\n\nOf course, we did not know what he was saying, but his meaning became\nperfectly evident a minute later. Clearly they did not comprehend\nthe powers of the insignificant-looking strangers with whom they had\nto deal. Instead of turning their destructive engines upon us, they\nadvanced on a run, with the evident purpose of making us prisoners or\ncrushing us by main force.\n\n\nAwed", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "the\nmembers of our race for your reception when, as we believed, would occur,\nyou should effect a landing upon the planet and destroy our enemies.\"\n\n\"But in some manner the fact that we had recognized you, and were\npreparing to welcome you, came to the ears of the Martians.\"\n\nAt this point the girl suddenly covered her eyes with her hands,\nshuddering and falling back in her seat.\n\n\"Oh, you do not know them as I do!\" at length she exclaimed. \"The\nmonsters! Their vengeance was too terrible! Instantly", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "the days\nof our forefathers, in the Land of Sand, a pestilence smote them, and\nbut few survivors escaped.\"\n\n\"Not long after that, you, with your mysterious ships, appeared in the\nsky of Mars. Our masters studied you with their telescopes, and those\nwho had returned from the unfortunate expedition declared that you\nwere inhabitants of the world which they had invaded, come, doubtless,\nto take vengeance upon them.\"\n\n\"Some of my people who were permitted to look through the telescopes of\nthe Martians, saw you", "\n\nAnd then, like a flash, some genius struck out an idea that fired\nthe world.\n\n\"Why should we wait? Why should we run the risk of having our cities\ndestroyed and our lands desolated a second time? Let us go to Mars. We\nhave the means. Let us beard the lion in his den. Let us ourselves\nturn conquerors and take possession of that detestable planet, and if\nnecessary, destroy it in order to relieve the earth of this perpetual\nthreat which now hangs over us like the sword of Damocles.\"\n\n", "ened its power to shatter apart the atoms of the resisting\nsubstance. The disintegrators were like firearms, in that after each\ndischarge they must be readjusted before they could be used again.\n\n\nThe Martians Are Desperate.\n\nThrough the breach we saw the Martians inside making desperate efforts\nto train their engine upon us, for after their first disastrous stroke\nwe had rapidly shifted our position. Swiftly the polished knob, which\ngleamed like an evil eye, moved round to sweep over us. Instinctively,\nthough", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "represented the flower of the earth,\nthe culmination of the genius of the planet. The greatest leaders\nin science, both theoretical and practical, were there. It was the\nevolution of the earth against the evolution of Mars. It was a planet in\nthe heyday of its strength matched against an aged and decrepit world\nwhich, nevertheless, in consequence of its long ages of existence,\nhad acquired an experience which made it a most dangerous foe. On both\nsides there was desperation. The earth was desperate because it foresaw\ndestruction unless it could first destroy its enemy. Mars", "begin a bombardment of the clouds without\npaying any attention to whether the strokes reach through the clouds\nand do any damage or not.\"\n\n\"This will induce the Martians to believe that we are determined to\npress our attack at this point.\"\n\n\"In the meantime, while these ships are raising a hullabaloo on this\nside of the planet, and drawing their fire, as much as possible, without\nrunning into any actual danger, let the others which have been selected\nfor the purpose, sail rapidly around to the other side of Mars and take\nthem in the", "tain, though rent to shreds by the concentrated discharge\nof the disintegrators, quickly became a uniform black sheet again,\nhiding everything.\n\nWe had just had time to congratulate ourselves on the successful opening\nof our bombardment, and the disintegrator of the flagship was poised\nfor another discharge, when suddenly out of the black expanse beneath,\nquivered immense electric beams, clear cut and straight as bars of steel,\nbut dazzling our eyes with unendurable brilliance.\n\nIt was the reply of the Martians to our", "could not be long now before we should ascertain, by the\nirrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed\nthe power to annihilate us or not.\n\nHow shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread beneath\nus? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of new\nlands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had discovered,\nand it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.\n\nBut that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.\n\nWe were to make war", "with great caution. Watching\nthe Martians with our telescopes we could clearly see that they were\ndisconcerted by the scattered order of our attack. Even if all of their\nengines of war had been in proper condition for use it would have been\nimpossible for them to meet the simultaneous assault of so many enemies\ndropping down upon them from the sky.\n\nBut they were made of fighting metal, as we knew from old experience. It\nwas no question of surrender. They did not know how to surrender, and we\ndid not know how to demand a surrender. Besides,", "principle of harmonic vibrations in the construction of\ntheir engines of war. The lightning-like strokes that they deal from\ntheir machines are no doubt equally powerful, but I think the range of\ndestruction covered by the disintegrators is greater.\"\n\nHowever, these questions must remain open until we could effect a landing\non Mars, and learn something of the condition of things there.\n\nThe thing that gave us the most uneasiness was the fact that we did\nnot yet know what powers the Martians might have in reserve. It was but\nnatural to suppose that here, on their", "formed globe not more than five miles in diameter.\n\n\"What is that upon it?\" asked Lord Kelvin, squinting intently at the\nlittle world through his glass. \"As I live, it moves.\"\n\n\nA Martian Appears!\n\nThe First Glimpse of the Horrible Inhabitants of the Red Planet.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" exclaimed several others, \"there are inhabitants upon it,\nbut what giants!\"\n\n\"What monsters!\"\n\n\"Don't you see?\" exclaimed an excited savant. \"They are" ], [ "they come to get their wealth.\"\n\n\"And this,\" I said, \"must be their harvest time. You notice that this\nasteroid, being several million miles nearer to the sun than Mars is,\nmust have an appreciably shorter period of revolution. When it is in\nconjunction with Mars, or nearly so, as it is at present, the distance\nbetween the two is not very great, whereas when it is in the opposite\npart of its orbit they are separated by an enormous gap of space and\nthe sun is between them.\"\n\n\"Manifestly in the latter case it would be", "stonishment.\n\nThe more we saw of this golden planet the greater became our\nastonishment. What the Martians had removed was a mere nothing in\ncomparison with the entire bulk of the asteroid. Had the celestial mine\nbeen easier to reach, perhaps they would have removed more, or, possibly,\ntheir political economists perfectly understood the necessity of properly\ncontrolling the amount of precious metal in circulation. Very likely,\nwe thought, the mining operations were under government control in Mars\nand it might be that the majority of the people there knew nothing of\nthis store of wealth", "to determine the distance that they would\ngo and the curves they would describe in returning.\n\n\nMars, the Death-Dealing Planet, at Length at Hand!\n\nFor these experiments there was nothing more convenient or abundant\nthan chunks of gold from the Martians' mine. These, accordingly, were\nhurled in various directions, and with every degree of velocity. A little\ncalculation had shown that an initial velocity of thirty feet per second\nimparted to one of these chunks, moving at right angles to the radius\nof the asteroid, would, if the resistance of", "\"But what's become of the regulars, then?\"\n\n\"Gone back to Mars for help, probably, and they'll be here again pretty\nquick, I am afraid!\"\n\nConsiderable alarm was caused by this view of the case, and orders were\nsent to several of the electrical ships to cruise out to a safe distance\nin the direction of Mars and keep a sharp outlook for the approach\nof enemies.\n\n\nDiscovery That the Asteroid is a Solid Mass of Gold.\n\nMeanwhile our prisoner awoke. He turned his eyes upon those", "perilous if not entirely\nimpossible for the Martians to visit the golden asteroid, but when it\nis near Mars, as it is at present, and as it must be periodically for\nseveral years at a time, then is their opportunity.\"\n\n\"With their projectile cars sent forth with the aid of the mysterious\nexplosives which they possess, it is easy for them under such\ncircumstances, to make visits to the asteroid.\"\n\n\"Having obtained all the gold they need, or all that they can carry,\na comparatively slight impulse given to", "iculty in Starting.\n\nWe did not find it so easy to start from the asteroid as it had been to\nstart from the earth; that is to say, we could not so readily generate\na very high velocity.\n\nIn consequence of the comparatively small size of the asteroid, its\nelectric influence was very much less than that of the earth, and\nnotwithstanding the appliances which we possessed for intensifying the\nelectrical effect, it was not possible to produce a sufficient repulsion\nto start us off for Mars with anything like the impulse which we had\nreceived from", "\n\"How are we going to dig it and get it back to earth?\" asked another.\n\n\"Carry it in your pockets,\" said one.\n\n\"No need of staking claims here,\" remarked another. \"There is enough\nfor everybody.\"\n\nMr. Edison suddenly turned the current of talk.\n\n\"What do you suppose those Martians were doing here?\"\n\n\"Why, they were wrecked here.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"According to your own showing they\ncould not have been wrecked here. This planet", "departure from the asteroid, we arrived in the sky of Mars.\n\nFor a long time the ruddy planet had been growing larger and more\nformidable, gradually turning from a huge star into a great red moon,\nand then expanding more and more until it began to shut out from sight\nthe constellations behind it. The curious markings on its surface, which\nfrom the earth can only be dimly glimpsed with a powerful telescope,\nbegan to reveal themselves clearly to our naked eyes.\n\nI have related how even before we had reached the asteroid, Mars", "asteroid could not have continued to travel for millions of years through\nregions of space strewn with meteoric particles without becoming covered\nwith the inevitable dust and grime of such a journey. We must dig down,\nand then doubtless we shall find the metal.\"\n\nThis hint was instantly acted upon. Something that would serve for a\nspade was seized by one of the men, and in a few minutes a hole had been\ndug in the comparatively light soil of the asteroid.\n\n\nThe Precious Metal Discovered.\n\nI shall never forget the sight, nor the excl", "in store that we had not expected. We were to meet\nthe Martians before arriving at the world they dwelt in.\n\nAmong the stars which shone in that quarter of the heavens where Mars\nappeared as the master orb, there was one, lying directly in our path,\nwhich, to our astonishment, as we continued on, altered from the aspect\nof a star, underwent a gradual magnification, and soon presented itself\nin the form of a little planet.\n\n\nThe Asteroid.\n\n\"It is an asteroid,\" said somebody.\n\n", "news from the ships which had been sent to\nreconnoitre, continued the exploration of the little planet.\n\nAt a point nearly opposite to that where we had landed we came upon\nthe mine which the Martians had been working. They had removed the thin\ncoating of soil, laying bare the rich stores of gold beneath, and large\nquantities of the latter had been removed. Some of it was so solidly\npacked that the strokes of the instruments by means of which they had\ndetached it were visible like the streaks left by a knife cutting cheese.\n\n\nReason for A", "\"Yes, evidently; but how does it come inside the orbit of Mars?\"\n\n\"Oh, there are several asteroids,\" said one of the astronomers, \"which\ntravel inside the orbit of Mars, along a part of their course, and,\nfor aught we can tell, there may be many which have not yet been caught\nsight of from the earth, that are nearer to the sun than Mars is.\"\n\n\"This must be one of them.\"\n\n\"Manifestly so.\"\n\nAs we drew nearer the mysterious little planet revealed itself to us as\na perfectly", "ingly slow.\n\nFortunately after a time they got under way with sufficient velocity to\nbring them back to us before the approaching Martians could overtake them.\n\nThe latter were not moving with great velocity, having evidently projected\nthemselves from Mars with only just sufficient force to throw them within\nthe feeble sphere of gravitation of the asteroid, so that they should\nvery gently land upon its surface.\n\nIndeed, looking out behind the electrical ship which had brought us the\nwarning, we immediately saw the projectile of the Martians approaching. It\nsparkled", ", and which had\nled to the discovery of the gold, the composition of the asteroid must\nbe the same to its very centre.\n\n\nAn Incredible Phenomenon.\n\nIn an assemblage of famous scientific men such as this the discovery of\ncourse immediately led to questions as to the origin of this incredible\nphenomenon.\n\nHow did these masses of gold come together? How did it chance that,\nwith the exception of the thin crust of the asteroid, nearly all its\nsubstance was composed of the precious metal?\n\nOne asserted that it", "ons\nof Mars are both insignificant bodies, not much larger than the asteroid\nwe had fallen in with, and that there could not possibly be any form of\nvegetation or other edible products upon them.\n\nThis view having prevailed, we had ceased to take an interest in the\nsatellites, further than to regard them as objects of great curiosity\non account of their motions.\n\nThe nearer of these moons, Phobos, is only 3,700 miles from the surface\nof Mars, and we watched it travelling around the planet three", "which appeared to be almost flawless,\nvaried in size from the dimensions of a hazelnut to geometrical solids\nseveral inches in diameter. We carefully selected as many as it was\nconvenient to carry and placed them in the car for future examination. We\nhad solved another long standing lunar problem and had, perhaps, opened\nup an inexhaustible mine of wealth which might eventually go far toward\nreimbursing the earth for the damage which it had suffered from the\ninvasion of the Martians.\n\nOn returning to Cape Heraclides we found that the", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "was, of course, able to impart to us\na measurable degree of weight. Being five miles in diameter, on the\nassumption that its mean density was the same as that of the earth,\nthe weight of bodies on its surface should have borne the same ratio to\ntheir weight upon the earth that the radius of the asteroid bore to the\nradius of the earth; in other words, as 1 to 1,600.\n\nHaving made this mental calculation, I knew that my weight, being 150\npounds on the earth, should on this", "they are unable to control their motions as we can do with our electrical\nships. They depend simply upon the force of gravitation. Having passed\nthe limit of the attraction of Mars, they have now fallen within the\nattraction of the asteroid, and they must slowly sink to its surface.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Cannot Stop.\n\n\"Having, as I am convinced, no means of producing or controlling\nelectrical attraction and repulsion, they cannot stop themselves, but must\ncome down upon the asteroid. Having got here they could never get away\nagain, except as we know the", "with amazement.\n\n\"It cannot be, surely it cannot be,\" said Professor Moissan at length.\n\n\"But it is,\" said another member of the party.\n\n\"Are these diamonds?\" asked a third.\n\n\"I cannot yet tell,\" replied the Professor. \"They have the brilliancy\nof diamonds, but they may be something else.\"\n\n\"Moon jewels,\" suggested a third.\n\n\"And worth untold millions, whatever they are,\" remarked another.\n\n\nJewels from the Moon.\n\nThese magnificent crystals, some of" ], [ "the experience, learning and genius of the squadron\nbeing concentrated upon the work, and the result was that in the course\nof a few days we had actually succeeded in learning a dozen or more\nof the Martian's words and were able to make him understand us when we\npronounced them, as well as to understand him when our ears had become\naccustomed to the growling of his voice.\n\nFinally, one day the prisoner, who seemed to be in an unusually cheerful\nframe of mind, indicated that he carried in his breast some object which\nhe wished us to see", "unately for us, he seemed more and more to enter\ninto the spirit of the undertaking, and actually to enjoy it himself. So\nbright and quick was his understanding that he was even able to indicate\nto us methods of mastering his language that would otherwise, probably,\nnever have occurred to our minds.\n\n\nThe Prisoner Teaches.\n\nIn fact, in a very short time he had turned teacher and all these learned\nmen, pressing around him with eager attention, had become his pupils.\n\nI cannot undertake to say precisely how much of the Martian language\nhad", "the attacks of enemies. Since, as our own experience had\nshown, it sometimes waged war with distant planets, it was but natural\nthat it should be found prepared to resist foes who might be disposed\nto revenge themselves for injuries suffered at its hands.\n\nAs had been expected, our prisoner now proved to be of very great\nassistance to us. Apparently he took a certain pride in exhibiting to\nstrangers from a distant world the beauties and wonders of his own planet.\n\n\nThe Martian Is Understood.\n\nWe could not understand by any means all that he", "appeared.\n\n\"That fellow is afraid at last,\" I said to Mr. Edison.\n\n\"Well, I should think he ought to be afraid,\" was the reply.\n\n\"So he ought, but if I am not mistaken this fear of his may be the\nbeginning of a new discovery for us.\"\n\n\"How so?\" asked Mr. Edison.\n\n\"In this way. When once he fears our power, and perceives that there\nwould be no hope of contending against us, even if he were at liberty,\nhe will respect us. This", ", whatever its precise meaning might be, had now been added to\nour vocabulary, although as yet our organs of speech proved unable to\nreproduce it in a recognizable form.\n\nThis promising and unexpected discovery of the Martian's book lent added\nenthusiasm to those who were engaged in the work of trying to master\nthe language of our prisoner, and the progress that they made in the\ncourse of the next few days was truly astonishing. If the prisoner had\nbeen unwilling to aid them, of course, it would have been impossible\nto proceed, but, fort", "Statement.\n\nThis announcement of the Heidelberg professor stirred us all most\nprofoundly. It not only deepened our interest in the beautiful girl\nwhom we had rescued, but, in a dim way, it gave us reason to hope that\nwe should yet discover some means of mastering the Martians by dealing\nthem a blow from within.\n\nIt had been expected, the reader will remember, that the Martian whom we\nhad made prisoner on the asteroid, might be of use to us in a similar way,\nand for that reason great efforts had been made to acquire", "a stupid savage, of course any such attempt\nas this to make him understand would have been idle. But it must be\nremembered that we were dealing with a personage who had presumably\ninherited from hundreds of generations the results of a civilization,\nand an intellectual advance, measured by the constant progress of millions\nof years.\n\nAccordingly we were not very much astonished, when, after a few\nrepetitions of the experiment, the Martian--one of whose arms had been\npartially released from its bonds in order to give him a little freedom\nof motion--imitated", "\"We can spare two weeks for this,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Can you fellows of\nmany tongues learn to talk with the girl in that time?\"\n\n\"We'll try it,\" said several.\n\n\"It shall we do,\" cried the Heidelberg professor more confidently.\n\n\"Then there is no use of staying here,\" continued the commander. \"If we\nwithdraw the Martians will think that we have either given up the contest\nor been destroyed. Perhaps they will then pull off their blanket and\nlet us see their face once more. That will give us", ",\" broke in Mr. Edison, \"do not help you\nmuch. Why not begin in a practical manner by finding out what the Martian\ncalls himself, for instance.\"\n\nThis seemed a good suggestion, and accordingly several of the bystanders\nbegan an expressive pantomime, intended to indicate to the giant, who was\nfollowing all their motions with his eyes, that they wished to know by\nwhat name he called himself. Pointing their fingers to their own breasts\nthey repeated, one after the other, the word \"man.\"\n\nIf our prisoner had been", "the Martians began to speak\nto them in pantomime, using his fingers after the manner in which they\nare used for conversation by deaf and dumb people.\n\nOf course, we did not know what he was saying, but his meaning became\nperfectly evident a minute later. Clearly they did not comprehend\nthe powers of the insignificant-looking strangers with whom they had\nto deal. Instead of turning their destructive engines upon us, they\nadvanced on a run, with the evident purpose of making us prisoners or\ncrushing us by main force.\n\n\nAwed", "Martian had perished, by a vengeful stroke\nlaunched from his native globe.\n\nBut Providence had placed in our hands a far better interpreter than he\ncould ever have been. This girl of our own race would need no urging,\nor coercion, on our part in order to induce her to reveal any secrets\nof the Martians that might be useful in our further proceedings.\n\nBut one thing was first necessary to be done.\n\nWe must learn to talk with her.\n\n\nLearning Her Language.\n\nBut for the discovery of the store", "brought as prisoners to its surface, yet\nthe memory of our distant home had never perished from the hearts of our\nrace, and when we recognized you, as we believed, our own brothers, come\nto rescue us from long imprisonment, there was great rejoicing. The news\nspread from mouth to mouth, wherever we were in the houses and families\nof our masters. We seemed to be powerless to aid you or to communicate\nwith you in any manner. Yet our hearts went out to you, as in your ships\nyou hung above the planet, and preparations were secretly made by all", "us, immediately recognized us as belonging to the\nstrange squadron in the sky. As such she felt that we must be her friends,\nand saw in us her only possible hope of escape. For that reason she had\ninstantly thrown herself under our protection. This accounted for the\nsingular confidence which she had manifested in us from the beginning.\n\nHer wonderful story had so captivated our imaginations that for a long\ntime after it was finished we could not recover from the spell. It was\ntold over and over again from mouth to mouth, and repeated from ship to\nship,", "some of the neighboring electric ships of the\nsquadron. Several other learned men were summoned in haste from them to\nexamine our new treasure.\n\nThe Martian, whose good nature had manifestly been growing day after day,\nwatched our inspection of his book with evidences of great interest, not\nunmingled with amusement. Finally he beckoned the holder of the book to\nhis side, and placing his broad finger upon one of the huge letters--if\nletters they were, for they more nearly resembled the characters employed\nby the Chinese printer--he ut", "the girl that we had\nscarcely thought of looking to see if there was any one else in the room.\n\nGlancing beyond her, I now perceived sitting in richly decorated chairs\nthree or four gigantic Martians. They were listening to the music as\nif charmed.\n\nThe whole story told itself. This girl, if not their slave, was at any\nrate under their control, and she was furnishing entertainment for them\nby her musical skill. The fact that they could find pleasure in music\nso beautiful was, perhaps, an indication that they were not really as\nsavage", "as Prof. Moissan called them, at\nleast three times in the course of every twenty-four hours. One of us\nsupplied him regularly and I thought that I could detect evidences of\na certain degree of gratitude in his expression. This was encouraging,\nbecause it gave additional promise of the possibility of our being able to\ncommunicate with him in some more effective way than by mere signs. But\nonce inside the car, where we had a supply of air kept at the ordinary\npressure experienced on the earth, he could breathe like the rest of us.\n\n\nLearning", "blow would deprive them of the power of resistance. A victory that cost\nus the loss of a single ship would be too dearly purchased now.\n\nHow to deal that blow, and first of all, how to discover the means of\ndealing it, were at present the uppermost problems in our minds.\n\nThe only hope for us lay in the girl.\n\nIf, as there was every reason to believe, she was familiar with the\nways and secrets of the Martians, then she might be able to direct our\nefforts in such a manner as to render them effective.\n\n", "that the struggle was over we turned our attention to\nAina. Fortunately the girl had not been seriously injured and she was\nquickly restored to consciousness. Had she been killed, we would have\nbeen practically helpless in attempting further negotiations, because\nthe knowledge which we had acquired of the language of the Martians from\nthe prisoner captured on the golden asteroid, was not sufficient to meet\nthe requirements of the occasion.\n\n\nThe Emperor Our Prisoner.\n\nWhen the Martian monarch saw that we had ceased the work of death, he\nsank upon his throne. There he remained", "said, but we could\nreadily comprehend, from his gestures, and from the manner in which his\nfeatures lighted up at the recognition of familiar scenes and objects,\nwhat his sentiments in regard to them were, and, in a general way,\nwhat part they played in the life of the planet.\n\nHe confirmed our opinion that certain of the works which we saw beneath\nus were fortifications, intended for the protection of the planet against\ninvaders from outer space. A cunning and almost diabolical look came\ninto his eyes as he pointed to one of these strongholds.\n", "little that they\ncould do. Much, however, could be learned with the aid of Aina from the\nMartians, now crowded on the land about the palace.\n\nThe results of these discoveries will in due time appear, fully\nelaborated in learned and authoritative treatises prepared by these\nsavants themselves. I shall only call attention to one, which seemed\nto me very remarkable. I have already said that there were astonishing\ndifferences in the personal appearance of the Martians, evidently\narising from differences of character and education, which had impressed\nthemselves" ], [ "not merely blew\nhim into a cloud of atoms, but opened a great cavity in the ground on\nthe spot where he had stood.\n\nA shout arose from the Martians, but they were too much astounded at\nwhat had occurred to make any hostile demonstrations, and, anyhow,\nthey knew well that they were completely at our mercy.\n\nMr. Edison was on the point of rebuking Colonel Smith for what he had\ndone, but Aina interposed.\n\n\"I am glad it was done,\" said she, \"for now only can you be safe", "shapeless wad of metal by the\ncareening mass.\n\n\nThe Deluge On Mars.\n\nHow the Martians Met Their Doom Through Aina's Plans.\n\nWhen we had attained a considerable height, so that we could see to a\ngreat distance on either side, the spectacle became even more fearful\nthan it was when we were close to the surface.\n\nOn all sides banks and dykes were going down; trees were being uprooted;\nbuildings were tumbling, and the ocean was achieving that victory over\nthe land which had long", "of innumerable canals with habitations\ncrowded along their banks, which came to a focus at a point on the\ncontinent of Aeria, westward from the Syrtis Major.\n\n\nDestroying The Martians.\n\nWith Aina's Aid Our Warriors Prepare an Awful Revenge on the Enemy.\n\nWe stopped the electrical ship at an elevation of perhaps three hundred\nfeet above the vast roof of a structure which Aina assured us was the\nbuilding we were in search of.\n\nHere we remained for a few minutes, caut", "suggested, \"and since she can speak the\nlanguage of the Martians we shall probably have no difficulty in arriving\nat an understanding.\"\n\nAccordingly the flagship was carefully brought further down in front\nof the entrance to the palace, which had been kept clear by the Martian\nguards, and while the remainder of the squadron assembled within a few\nfeet directly over our heads with the disintegrators turned upon the\npalace and the crowd below. Mr. Edison and myself, accompanied by Aina,\nstepped out upon the ground.\n\nThere was a forward movement in", "sea,\nto slowly shut in, edge to edge, until the flow of the water toward the\nnorth had been stopped.\"\n\n\"How is the building protected?\"\n\n\"So completely,\" replied Aina, \"that my only fear is that you may not be\nable to reach it. On account of the danger from their enemies on Ceres,\nthe Martians have fortified it strongly on all sides, and have even\nsurrounded it and covered it overhead with a great electrical network,\nto touch which would be instant death.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Mr. Edison, \"", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "dison, in a whisper.\n\n\"Come softly this way, and look out for the sentinel,\" replied Aina.\n\nGripping our disintegrators firmly, and screwing up our courage, with\nnoiseless steps we followed the girl among the shadows of the trees.\n\nWe had one very great advantage. The Martians had evidently placed so\nmuch confidence in the electric network which surrounded the power house\nthat they never dreamed of enemies being able to penetrate it--at least,\nwithout giving warning of their coming.\n\nBut the hole which we had", "?\" said Mr. Edison. \"We must look out for\nthat. Whenever you see one of the airships beginning to stick its nose\nup after that fashion blaze away at it.\"\n\nAn order to this effect was transmitted throughout the squadron. At the\nsame time several of the most powerful disintegrators were directed upon\nthe ship which had executed the stratagem and, reduced to a wreck, it\ndropped, whirling like a broken kite until it fell into the flood beneath.\n\n\nA Thousand Martian Ships.\n\nStill the Martians'", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "a loud shriek,\nshe fell to the floor.\n\n\nAina Attacked by a Martian.\n\nThe blow was so unexpected that for a second we all remained riveted to\nthe spot. Then I saw Colonel Smith's face turn livid, and at the same\ninstant heard the whirr of his disintegrator, while Sidney Phillips,\nforgetting the deadly instrument that he carried in his hand, sprung madly\ntoward the brute who had kicked Aina, as if he intended to throttle him,\ncolossus as he", "greater than themselves. Their enemies from Ceres have\nattacked them here. Hence these fortifications, with weapons pointing\nskyward, and the great air fleets which you have encountered.\"\n\n\"But there must be some point,\" said Mr. Edison, \"where we can.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" interrupted the girl quickly, \"there is one blow you can\ndeal them which they could not withstand.\"\n\n\"What is that?\" eagerly inquired the commander.\n\n\"You can drown them out.\"\n\n\"How? With the canals?\"\n\n", "clear to me that the feeling aroused by her appearance was every\nmoment becoming more intense. Still, the thought of a violent outbreak\ndid not occur to me, because our recent triumph had seemed so complete\nthat I believed the Martians would be awed by our presence, and would\nnot undertake actually to injure the girl.\n\nI think we all had the same impression, but as the event proved, we\nwere mistaken.\n\nSuddenly one of the gigantic guards, as if actuated by a fit of\nungovernable hatred, lifted his foot and kicked Aina. With", "immense square room at least a hundred feet in height\nand 400 feet on a side, and almost filling the wall opposite to us was\nan intricate display of machinery, wheels, levers, rods and polished\nplates. This we had no doubt was one end of the great engine which opened\nand shut the great gates that could dam an ocean.\n\n\"There is no one in sight,\" said Colonel Smith.\n\n\"Then we must act quickly,\" said Mr. Edison.\n\n\"Where,\" he said, turning to Aina, \"is the handle by turning which", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "a plan of campaign\nwas quickly devised.\n\nIt was deemed wise that the attempt should be made with a single\nelectrical ship, but that the others should be kept hovering near, ready\nto respond on the instant to any signal for aid which might come from\nbelow. It was thought that, notwithstanding the wonderful defences,\nwhich, according to Aina's account surrounded the building, a small\nparty would have a better chance of success than a large one.\n\nMr. Edison was certain that the electrical network which was described\nas covering the power house would not", "Smith with a smile that reflected on his ruddy face and made it\nglow like a Chinese lantern.\n\n\"By ----!\" muttered Colonel Smith, \"that was the fellow we blew into\nnothing! Blast him, he got off too easy!\"\n\nThe remainder of Aina's story may be briefly told.\n\nWhen Colonel Smith and I entered the mysterious building which, as it\nnow proved, was not a storehouse belonging to a village, as we had\nsupposed, but one of the military depots of the Martians, the girl,\non catching sight of", "followed his example,\nand thus we swept the Martians into eternity, while Mr. Edison coolly\ncontinued his manipulations of the wheel.\n\nThe effect of what he was doing became apparent in less than half a\nminute. A shiver ran through the mass of machinery and shook the entire\nbuilding.\n\n\"Look! look!\" cried Sidney Phillips, who had stepped a little apart from\nthe others.\n\n\nThe Grand Canal.\n\nWe all ran to his side and found ourselves in front of a great window\nwhich opened through the side of the engine, giving a view", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier", "spirit had\nbeen blown out of them by a breath of terror that shivered their marrow.\n\n\nNo Pity for Our Foes.\n\nStill the pitiless disintegrators played upon them until Mr. Edison,\nmaking himself heard, now that the thunder of their engines had ceased\nto reverberate through the chamber, commanded that our fire should cease.\n\nIn the meantime the armed Martians outside the palace, hearing the\nuproar within, seeing our men pouring their fire through the windows,\nand supposing that we were guilty at once of" ], [ "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "represented the flower of the earth,\nthe culmination of the genius of the planet. The greatest leaders\nin science, both theoretical and practical, were there. It was the\nevolution of the earth against the evolution of Mars. It was a planet in\nthe heyday of its strength matched against an aged and decrepit world\nwhich, nevertheless, in consequence of its long ages of existence,\nhad acquired an experience which made it a most dangerous foe. On both\nsides there was desperation. The earth was desperate because it foresaw\ndestruction unless it could first destroy its enemy. Mars", "\nannounced that after the meeting had adjourned an exhibition of the\nflying powers of the ship would be given in the open air.\n\nThese experiments, together with the accompanying explanations, added\nto what had already been disseminated through the public press, were\nquite sufficient to convince all the representatives who had assembled\nin Washington that the problem of how to conquer the Martians had\nbeen solved. The means were plainly at hand. It only remained to apply\nthem. For this purpose, as the President had pointed out, it would be\nnecessary to raise a very large", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "\n\nAnd then, like a flash, some genius struck out an idea that fired\nthe world.\n\n\"Why should we wait? Why should we run the risk of having our cities\ndestroyed and our lands desolated a second time? Let us go to Mars. We\nhave the means. Let us beard the lion in his den. Let us ourselves\nturn conquerors and take possession of that detestable planet, and if\nnecessary, destroy it in order to relieve the earth of this perpetual\nthreat which now hangs over us like the sword of Damocles.\"\n\n", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", ", with more than one-quarter of them\nsimultaneously. In the meantime the others would have surrounded and\nmight have destroyed us. We must first get some idea of the planet's\nmeans of defence before we ventured to assail it.\n\nHaving risen rapidly to a height of twenty-five or thirty miles, so that\nwe could feel confident that our ships had vanished at least from the\nnaked eye view of our enemies beneath, a brief consultation was held.\n\nIt was determined to adhere to our original programme and to\ncircumnavigate Mars in every", "the Martians!\"\n\nThe startling truth burst upon the minds of all. Here upon this little\nplanetoid were several of the gigantic inhabitants of the world that we\nwere going to attack. There was more than one man in the flagship who\nrecognized them well, and who shuddered at the recognition, instinctively\nrecalling the recent terrible experience of the earth.\n\nWas this an outpost of the warlike Mars?\n\nAround these monstrous enemies we saw several of their engines of\nwar. Some of these appeared to have been wrecked, but at least", "the surface of the planet, convinced us that all we now had to do in\norder to complete our conquest was to get possession of the person of\nthe chief ruler.\n\nThe fleet was, accordingly, concentrated, and we rapidly approached the\ngreat Martian palace. As we came down within a hundred feet of them and\nboldly made our way among their airships, which retreated at our approach,\nthe Martians gazed at us with mingled fear and astonishment.\n\nWe were their conquerors and they knew it. We were coming to demand their\nsurrender,", "at a distance of perhaps three hundred feet from the point where\nthey touched the asteroid. Instantly a dozen of the giants sprang from\nthe car and gazed about for a moment with a look of intense surprise. At\nfirst it was doubtful whether they meant to attack us at all.\n\nWe stood on our guard, several carrying disintegrators in our hands,\nwhile a score more of these terrible engines were turned upon the Martians\nfrom the electrical ships which hovered near.\n\n\nA Speech from Their Leader.\n\nSuddenly he who seemed to be the leader of", "with great caution. Watching\nthe Martians with our telescopes we could clearly see that they were\ndisconcerted by the scattered order of our attack. Even if all of their\nengines of war had been in proper condition for use it would have been\nimpossible for them to meet the simultaneous assault of so many enemies\ndropping down upon them from the sky.\n\nBut they were made of fighting metal, as we knew from old experience. It\nwas no question of surrender. They did not know how to surrender, and we\ndid not know how to demand a surrender. Besides,", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "deal with the\nairships, which will be all the means of defence that will then remain\nto them.\"\n\nThis idea commended itself to all the leaders of the expedition. It was\ndetermined to make a reconnaissance at once.\n\nBut it would not do for us to approach the planet too hastily, and we\ncertainly could not think of landing upon it in broad daylight. Still,\nas long as we were yet at a considerable distance from Mars, we felt that\nwe should be safe from observation, because so much time had elapsed\nwhile we were hidden behind De", "could not be long now before we should ascertain, by the\nirrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed\nthe power to annihilate us or not.\n\nHow shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread beneath\nus? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of new\nlands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had discovered,\nand it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.\n\nBut that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.\n\nWe were to make war", "the\nmembers of our race for your reception when, as we believed, would occur,\nyou should effect a landing upon the planet and destroy our enemies.\"\n\n\"But in some manner the fact that we had recognized you, and were\npreparing to welcome you, came to the ears of the Martians.\"\n\nAt this point the girl suddenly covered her eyes with her hands,\nshuddering and falling back in her seat.\n\n\"Oh, you do not know them as I do!\" at length she exclaimed. \"The\nmonsters! Their vengeance was too terrible! Instantly", "begin a bombardment of the clouds without\npaying any attention to whether the strokes reach through the clouds\nand do any damage or not.\"\n\n\"This will induce the Martians to believe that we are determined to\npress our attack at this point.\"\n\n\"In the meantime, while these ships are raising a hullabaloo on this\nside of the planet, and drawing their fire, as much as possible, without\nrunning into any actual danger, let the others which have been selected\nfor the purpose, sail rapidly around to the other side of Mars and take\nthem in the", "\n\"But, as you all know, the first feeling of relief which followed the\ndeath of our foes was quickly succeeded by the fearful news which came to\nus from the observatories, that the Martians were undoubtedly preparing\nfor a second invasion of our planet. Against this we should have had no\nrecourse and no hope but for the genius of one of my countrymen, who,\nas you are all aware, has perfected means which may enable us not only\nto withstand the attack of those awful enemies, but to meet them, and,\nlet us hope, to", "\nruddy planet, and manifestly approaching them. A little inspection with\nthe telescope had shown that it was one of the projectile cars used by\nthe Martians.\n\nOur ship had ventured so far from the asteroid that for a moment it seemed\ndoubtful whether it would be able to return in time to give warning,\nbecause the electrical influence of the asteroid was comparatively\nslight at such a distance, and, after they had reversed their polarity,\nand applied their intensifier, so as to make that influence effective,\ntheir motion was at first exceed", "which produced an ineradicable impression. The\nPresident of the United States, of course, presided. Representatives\nof the greater powers occupied the front seats, and some of them were\nhonored with special chairs near the President.\n\nNo time was wasted in preliminaries. The President made a brief speech.\n\n\"We have come together,\" he said, \"to consider a question that equally\ninterests the whole earth. I need not remind you that unexpectedly and\nwithout provocation on our part the people--the monsters, I should\nrather say--of Mars", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a" ], [ "by the unanimous and enthusiastic choice of the great assembly.\n\n\"How long a time do you require to put everything in readiness?\" asked\nthe President.\n\n\"Give me carte blanche,\" replied Mr. Edison, \"and I believe I can have\na hundred electric ships and three thousand disintegrators ready within\nsix months.\"\n\nA tremendous cheer greeted this announcement.\n\n\"Your powers are unlimited,\" said the President, \"draw on the fund for\nas much money as you need,\" whereupon the Treasurer of the United States\nwas made", "\n\nChapter IV.\n\n\nIt is not necessary for me to describe the manner in which Mr. Edison\nperformed his tremendous task. He was as good as his word, and within six\nmonths from the first stroke of the hammer, a hundred electrical ships,\neach provided with a full battery of disintegrators, were floating in\nthe air above the harbor and the partially rebuilt city of New York.\n\nIt was a wonderful scene. The polished sides of the huge floating cars\nsparkled in the sunlight, and, as they slowly rose and fell, and swung", "Edison, Colonel\nSmith, Mr. Sidney Phillips and myself.\n\nBoth by her own request and because we could not help feeling that her\nknowledge of the locality would be indispensable to us, Aina was also\nincluded in our party, but not, of course, as a fighting member of it.\n\nIt was about an hour after midnight when the ship in which we were to\nmake the venture parted from the remainder of the squadron and dropped\ncautiously down. The blaze of electric lights running away in various\ndirections indicated the lines", "\nThe Battle Commences.\n\nThe signal was given, and the circle of electrical ships closed in upon\nthe asteroid.\n\nIn the meantime Mr. Edison had been donning his air-tight suit. Before\nwe could clearly comprehend his intention he had passed through the\ndouble-trapped door which gave access to the exterior of the car without\npermitting the loss of air, and was standing upon what served as the\ndeck of the ship.\n\nIn his hand he carried a disintegrator. With a quick motion he sighted it.\n\nAs quickly as possible I", "produce absolute darkness behind\nit. There would be no graduation of shadow. The sky would be as black\nas ink on all sides.\n\nWhile it was the intention to remain as much as possible within the cars,\nyet since it was probable that necessity would arise for occasionally\nquitting the interior of the electrical ships, Mr. Edison had provided for\nthis emergency by inventing an air-tight dress constructed somewhat after\nthe manner of a diver's suit, but of much lighter material. Each ship was\nprovided with several of these suits, by wearing which one could venture\nout", "hesitating at his post.\n\n\"Move on,\" said Mr. Edison sternly, his features set with determination\nand his eyes afire. \"We are still beyond their effective range. Let us\nget closer in order to make sure work when we strike.\"\n\nThe ship moved on. One could hear the heartbeats of its inmates. The\nother members of the squadron, thinking for the moment that disaster\nhad overtaken the flagship, had paused and seemed to be meditating flight.\n\n\"Signal them to move on,\" said Mr. Edison.\n\n", "\nforce of the disintegrator should be directed. In this manner he caused an\ninkstand to disappear under the very nose of the Emperor William without a\nspot of ink being scattered upon his sacred person, but evidently the odor\nof the disunited atoms was not agreeable to the nostrils of the Kaiser.\n\nMr. Edison also explained in general terms the principle on which the\ninstrument worked. He was greeted with round after round of applause,\nand the spirit of the assembly rose high.\n\nNext the workings of the electrical ship were explained, and it was", "now he was following the other fleets on their\ngreat mission to the Western Continent.\n\nWhy did they bring their warships when their intentions were peaceable,\ndo you ask? Well, it was partly the effect of ancient habit, and partly\ndue to the fact that such multitudes of officials and members of ruling\nfamilies wished to embark for Washington that the ordinary means of\nocean communications would have been utterly inadequate to convey them.\n\nAfter we had feasted our eyes on this strange sight, Mr. Edison suddenly\nexclaimed: \"Now let us see", "electrical ship, which we had left moored at the top of the tree.\n\nTom, the expert electrician from Mr. Edison's shop, who had remained in\ncharge of the ship, had never once dreamed of such a thing as deserting\nus. The moment he saw the water bursting over the dam, and evidently\nflooding the building which we had entered, he cast off his moorings,\nas we subsequently learned, and hovered over the entrance to the power\nhouse, getting as low down as possible and keeping a sharp watch for us.\n\nBut", ",\nand seeing what we were about, at once said:\n\n\"I must provide against this danger. If I do not, there is a chance that\nwe shall arrive at Mars with the ships half empty and the crews floating\nhelplessly around us.\"\n\n\nEdison Always Prepared.\n\nMr. Edison's way of guarding against the danger was by contriving a\nlittle apparatus, modeled after that which was the governing force of the\nelectrical ships themselves, and which, being enclosed in the air-tight\nsuits, enabled their", "out into empty space with sufficient force to have separated\nmyself hopelessly from the electrical ship.\n\n\nA Reckless Experiment.\n\nAs it was, I took good care to retain a hold upon a projecting portion\nof the car. Occasionally cautiously releasing my grip, I experienced for\na few minutes the delicious, indescribable pleasure of being a little\nplanet swinging through space, with nothing to hold me up and nothing\nto interfere with my motion.\n\nMr. Edison, happening to come upon the deck of the ship at this time", "ship took place the next\nday. Enormous multitudes witnessed the experiment, and there was a\nstruggle for places in the car. Even Queen Victoria, accompanied by\nthe Prince of Wales, ventured to take a ride in it, and they enjoyed it\nso much that Mr. Edison prolonged the journey as far as Boston and the\nBunker Hill monument.\n\nMost of the other monarchs also took a high ride, but when the turn of\nthe Emperor of China came he repeated a fable which he said had come\ndown from the time of Confucius:", "immense square room at least a hundred feet in height\nand 400 feet on a side, and almost filling the wall opposite to us was\nan intricate display of machinery, wheels, levers, rods and polished\nplates. This we had no doubt was one end of the great engine which opened\nand shut the great gates that could dam an ocean.\n\n\"There is no one in sight,\" said Colonel Smith.\n\n\"Then we must act quickly,\" said Mr. Edison.\n\n\"Where,\" he said, turning to Aina, \"is the handle by turning which", "had no doubt that if we could not resist\ntheir effects we might at least be able to avoid them by the rapidity of\nour motions. As he pointed out, the war machines which the Martians had\nemployed in their invasion of the earth, were really very awkward and\nunmanageable affairs. Mr. Edison's electrical ships, on the other hand,\nwere marvels of speed and of manageability. They could dart about, turn,\nreverse their course, rise, fall, with the quickness and ease of a fish\nin the water. Mr. Edis", "eyes watched our swift progress, and volleys\nof cheers reached our ears, for every one knew that this was Edison's\nelectrical warship, on which the hope of the nation, and the hopes of\nall the nations, depended. These scenes were repeated again and again\nuntil the car hovered over the still expanding capital on the Potomac,\nwhere the unceasing ring of hammers rose to the clouds.\n\n\n\n\nChapter III.\n\n\nThe day appointed for the assembling of the nations in Washington opened\nbright and beautiful.", "time the two fleets had joined, and Colonel Smith and I\nimmediately transferred ourselves to the flagship.\n\n\"Well, what have you done?\" asked Mr. Edison, while others crowded around\nwith eager attention.\n\n\"If we have not captured their provision train,\" said Colonel Smith, \"we\nhave done something just about as good. We have foraged on the country,\nand have collected a supply that I reckon will last this fleet for at\nleast a month.\"\n\n\"What's that? What's that?\"\n\n\"It's just what", "morning,\nit had been unanimously resolved that as many thousands of men as\nMr. Edison might require should be immediately placed at his disposal;\nthat as far as possible all the great manufacturing establishments\nof the country should be instantly transformed into factories where\nelectrical ships and disintegrators could be built, and upon the\nsuggestion of Professor Sylvanus P. Thompson, the celebrated English\nelectrical expert, seconded by Lord Kelvin, it was resolved that all\nthe leading men of science in the world should place their services at\nthe disposal of Mr.", "Overcoming Their Precautions.\n\nSo successful were we that we opened a considerable gap in the network\nwithout doing any perceptible damage to the trees beneath.\n\nThe ship was cautiously lowered through the opening and brought to rest\namong the upper branches of one of the tallest trees. Colonel Smith,\nMr. Phillips, Mr. Edison and myself at once clambered out upon a strong\nlimb.\n\nFor a moment I feared our arrival had been betrayed on account of the\naltogether too noisy contest that arose between Colonel Smith and\nMr. Phillips as", "inventions was perfectly understood by them, and had they possessed\nthe means, doubtless they would have been able to carry it into practice\neven more effectively than we had done.\n\nAfter two or three days all the preparations having been completed,\nthe signal was given for our departure. The men of science were still\nunwilling to leave this strange world, but Mr. Edison decided that we\ncould linger no longer.\n\nAt the moment of starting a most tragic event occurred. Our fleet was\nassembled around the palace, and the signal was given to rise slowly to a\ncons", "that would\nbe effective in such a contest.\n\nWith Mr. Edison and the other men of science away, they would not be\nable at home to construct such engines as we possessed, or to manage\nthem even if they were constructed.\n\nOur planet had staked everything on a single throw.\n\nThese considerations again steeled our hearts, and made us bear up as\nbravely as possible in the face of the terrible odds that confronted us.\n\nTurning the noses of our electrical ships toward the west, we began\nour circumnavigation.\n\n" ], [ "Nile, the Pyramids. The gigantic statue of their leader that\nthey at the foot of their artificial mountains have set up--gentlemen,\nwhat is that? It is the Sphinx!\"\n\nThe Professor's agitation was so great that he could go no further. And\nindeed there was not one of us who did not fully share his excitement. To\nthink that we should have come to the planet Mars to solve one of the\nstanding mysteries of the earth, which had puzzled mankind and defied\nall their efforts at solution for so many centuries! Here,", "thought and exponents of hidden feelings, while his\ninquisitive nose stood forth in the midst of their ceaseless play like\na perpetual interrogation point that would have electrified the Sphinx\ninto life, and set its stone lips gabbling answers and explanations.\n\nThe girl looked on, partly astonished, partly amused, and partly\ncomprehending. Sometimes she smiled, and then the beauty of her face\nbecame most captivating. Occasionally she burst into a cheery laugh\nwhen the professor was executing some of his extraordinary gyrations\nbefore", "Great Sphinx and the\nPyramids.\n\nI shall never forget one occasion, when, lying flat on the ground,\nand cautiously worming our way around on the side toward Mars, we had\njust begun to observe it with our telescopes, when I perceived, against\nthe vast curtain of smoke, a small, glinting object, which I instantly\nsuspected to be an airship.\n\nI called Mr. Edison's attention to it, and we both agreed that it was,\nundoubtedly, one of the Martians' aerial vessels,", "And in this Land of Sand, it is said, they did many wonderful works.\"\n\n\"They had been astonished at the sight of the great mountains which\nsurrounded our valley, for on Mars there are no mountains, and after\nthey came into the Land of Sand they built there with huge blocks of\nstone mountains in imitation of what they had seen, and used them for\npurposes that our people did not understand.\"\n\n\"Then, too, it is said they left there at the foot of these mountains\nthat they had made a gigantic image of the great chief who led them in\n", "their conquest of our world.\"\n\nAt this point in the story the Heidelberg Professor again broke in,\nfairly trembling with excitement:\n\n\nThe Wonders of the Martians!\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen,\" he cried, \"is it that you do not understand? This\nLand of Sand and of a wonderful fertilizing river--what can it\nbe? Gentlemen, it is Egypt! These mountains of rock that the Martians\nhave erected, what are they? Gentlemen, they are the great mystery of the\nland of the", "87 days. More than 9,000 years had therefore elapsed since the first\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians.\n\nAnother great mystery--that of the origin of those gigantic and\ninexplicable monuments, the great pyramids and the Sphinx, on the banks of\nthe Nile, had also apparently been solved by us, although these Egyptian\nwonders had been the furthest things from our thoughts when we set out\nfor the planet Mars.\n\nWe had travelled more than thirty millions of miles in order to get\nansw", "then, was\nthe explanation of how those gigantic blocks that constitute the great\nPyramid of Cheops had been swung to their lofty elevation. It was not the\nwork of puny man, as many an engineer had declared that it could not be,\nbut the work of these giants of Mars.\n\n\nAina's Wonderful Story.\n\nThe Martians' Beautiful Prisoner Recounts Her Marvellous\nAdventures.\n\nAina resumed her story.\n\n\"At length, our traditions say, a great pestilence broke", ". That\nmonster was more directly responsible than any other inhabitant of Mars\nfor all the wickedness of which they have been guilty.\"\n\n\"The expedition against the earth was inspired solely by him. There is\na tradition among the Martians--which my people, however, could never\ncredit--that he possessed a kind of immortality. They declared that it\nwas he who led the former expedition against the earth when my ancestors\nwere brought away prisoners from their happy home, and that it was his\nimage which they had set up in stone in the midst of the Land of Sand. He", ", leaning his chin upon his two\nhands and staring straight before him like that terrible doomed creature\nwho fascinates the eyes of every beholder standing in the Sistine Chapel\nand gazing at Michael Angelo's dreadful painting of \"The Last Judgement.\"\n\nThis wicked Martian also felt that he was in the grasp of pitiless and\nirresistible fate, and that a punishment too well deserved, and from\nwhich there was no possible escape, now confronted him.\n\nThere he remained in a hopelessness which almost compelled our sympathy,\n", "as the Venus of Milo--a magnified human\nbeing not less than forty feet in height!\n\nBut for her swaying and the wild motions of her arms, we should have\nmistaken her for a marble statue.\n\nAina, who happened to be looking, instantly exclaimed:\n\n\"It is the woman from Ceres. She was taken prisoner by the Martians\nduring their last invasion of that world, and since then has been a\nslave in the palace of the Emperor.\"\n\n\nOvertaken by the Flood.\n\nApparently her great stat", "world,\" continued the King of Siam, \"will be\ninterested in seeing this gem. Only once before has the eye of a European\nbeen blessed with the sight of it. Your books will tell you that in the\nseventeenth century a traveler, Tavernier, saw in India an unmatched\ndiamond which afterward disappeared like a meteor, and was thought to\nhave been lost from the earth. You all know the name of that diamond and\nits history. It is the Great Mogul, and it lies before you. How it came\ninto my possession I shall not", "\n\n\nA Chinese Legend.\n\n\"Once upon a time there was a Chinaman living in the valley of the\nHoang-Ho River, who was accustomed frequently to lie on his back, gazing\nat, and envying, the birds that he saw flying away in the sky. One day he\nsaw a black speck which rapidly grew larger and larger, until as it got\nnear he perceived that it was an enormous bird, which overshadowed the\nearth with its wings. It was the elephant of birds, the roc. 'Come with", "in succession as they passed from night into day beneath our feet\nthe land of Chryse, the great continent of Tharsis, the curious region of\nintersecting canals which puzzled astronomers on the earth had named the\n\"Gordian Knot,\" the continental lands of Memnonia, Amazonia and Aeolia,\nthe mysterious centre where hundreds of vast canals came together from\nevery direction, called the Trivium Charontis; the vast circle of Elysium,\na thousand miles across, and completely surrounded by a broad green canal;\nthe continent of", "\n\nThe contrast between his truly terrible countenance and the Eve-like\nfeatures of the women who surrounded his throne was as great as if Satan\nafter his fall had here re-enthroned himself in the midst of angels.\n\nMr. Edison, Colonel Smith, Sidney Phillips, Aina and myself advanced at\nthe head of the procession, our guard following in close order behind\nus. It had been evident from the moment that we entered the palace that\nAina was regarded with aversion by all of the Martians. Even the women\nabout the throne gazed sc", "her.\n\nIt was a marvellous exhibition of what the human intellect, when all its\npowers are concentrated upon a single object, is capable of achieving. It\nseemed to me, as I looked at the performance, that if all the races of\nmen, who had been stricken asunder at the foot of the Tower of Babel by\nthe miracle which made the tongues of each to speak a language unknown\nto the others, could be brought together again at the foot of the same\ntower, with all the advantages which thousands of years of education\nhad in the meantime impart", "the Sun in the darkness, in order\nthat we might watch the deluge perform its awful work in the morning.\n\n\nThe Giant Woman Drowned.\n\nShe, Like the Rest, a Prey to the Devouring Flood of the Canals.\n\nThaumasia, as I have before remarked, was a broad, oval land, about 1,800\nmiles across, having the Lake of the Sun exactly in its centre. From\nthis lake, which was four or five hundred miles in diameter, and circular\nin outline, many canals radiated,", "was of enormous size, and his\nhuge projecting eyes gleamed with a strange fire of intelligence. His face\nwas like a caricature, but not one to make the beholder laugh. Drawing\nhimself up, he towered to a height of at least fifteen feet.\n\nBut let the reader not suppose from this inadequate description that the\nMartians stirred in the beholder precisely the sensation that would be\ncaused by the sight of a gorilla, or other repulsive inhabitant of one\nof our terrestrial jungles, suddenly confronting him", "half way from the Lake of the Sun\nto the border of the sea, having dropped down within a few hundred feet of\nthe surface, there suddenly appeared, in the midst of the raging waters,\na sight so remarkable that at first I rubbed my eyes in astonishment,\nnot crediting their report of what they beheld.\n\n\nA Woman Forty Feet High!\n\nStanding on the apex of a sandy elevation, which still rose a few feet\nabove the gathering flood, was the figure of a woman, as perfect in form\nand in classic beauty of feature", "held the immense oval-shaped land of Thaumasia containing in its centre\nthe celebrated \"Lake of the Sun,\" a circular body of water not less than\n500 miles in diameter, with dozens of great canals running away from it\nlike the spokes of a wheel in every direction, thus connecting it with\nthe ocean which surrounds it on the south and east, and with the still\nlarger canals that encircle it toward the north and west.\n\nThis Lake of the Sun came to play a great part in our subsequent\nadventures. It was evident to us from", "concerning whose secrets my imagination\nhad so often busied itself. When Mr. Edison and I had paid our previous\nvisit to the moon on the first experimental trip of the electrical ship,\nwe had landed at a point on its surface remote from this, and, as I have\nbefore explained, we then made no effort to investigate its secrets. But\nnow it was to be different, and we were at length to see something of\nthe wonders of the moon.\n\n\nLike a Human Face.\n\nI had often on the earth drawn a smile from my friends by showing them\nCape Her" ], [ "stonishment.\n\nThe more we saw of this golden planet the greater became our\nastonishment. What the Martians had removed was a mere nothing in\ncomparison with the entire bulk of the asteroid. Had the celestial mine\nbeen easier to reach, perhaps they would have removed more, or, possibly,\ntheir political economists perfectly understood the necessity of properly\ncontrolling the amount of precious metal in circulation. Very likely,\nwe thought, the mining operations were under government control in Mars\nand it might be that the majority of the people there knew nothing of\nthis store of wealth", "they come to get their wealth.\"\n\n\"And this,\" I said, \"must be their harvest time. You notice that this\nasteroid, being several million miles nearer to the sun than Mars is,\nmust have an appreciably shorter period of revolution. When it is in\nconjunction with Mars, or nearly so, as it is at present, the distance\nbetween the two is not very great, whereas when it is in the opposite\npart of its orbit they are separated by an enormous gap of space and\nthe sun is between them.\"\n\n\"Manifestly in the latter case it would be", "\"But what's become of the regulars, then?\"\n\n\"Gone back to Mars for help, probably, and they'll be here again pretty\nquick, I am afraid!\"\n\nConsiderable alarm was caused by this view of the case, and orders were\nsent to several of the electrical ships to cruise out to a safe distance\nin the direction of Mars and keep a sharp outlook for the approach\nof enemies.\n\n\nDiscovery That the Asteroid is a Solid Mass of Gold.\n\nMeanwhile our prisoner awoke. He turned his eyes upon those", "asteroid could not have continued to travel for millions of years through\nregions of space strewn with meteoric particles without becoming covered\nwith the inevitable dust and grime of such a journey. We must dig down,\nand then doubtless we shall find the metal.\"\n\nThis hint was instantly acted upon. Something that would serve for a\nspade was seized by one of the men, and in a few minutes a hole had been\ndug in the comparatively light soil of the asteroid.\n\n\nThe Precious Metal Discovered.\n\nI shall never forget the sight, nor the excl", "perilous if not entirely\nimpossible for the Martians to visit the golden asteroid, but when it\nis near Mars, as it is at present, and as it must be periodically for\nseveral years at a time, then is their opportunity.\"\n\n\"With their projectile cars sent forth with the aid of the mysterious\nexplosives which they possess, it is easy for them under such\ncircumstances, to make visits to the asteroid.\"\n\n\"Having obtained all the gold they need, or all that they can carry,\na comparatively slight impulse given to", "to determine the distance that they would\ngo and the curves they would describe in returning.\n\n\nMars, the Death-Dealing Planet, at Length at Hand!\n\nFor these experiments there was nothing more convenient or abundant\nthan chunks of gold from the Martians' mine. These, accordingly, were\nhurled in various directions, and with every degree of velocity. A little\ncalculation had shown that an initial velocity of thirty feet per second\nimparted to one of these chunks, moving at right angles to the radius\nof the asteroid, would, if the resistance of", "departure from the asteroid, we arrived in the sky of Mars.\n\nFor a long time the ruddy planet had been growing larger and more\nformidable, gradually turning from a huge star into a great red moon,\nand then expanding more and more until it began to shut out from sight\nthe constellations behind it. The curious markings on its surface, which\nfrom the earth can only be dimly glimpsed with a powerful telescope,\nbegan to reveal themselves clearly to our naked eyes.\n\nI have related how even before we had reached the asteroid, Mars", "\n\"How are we going to dig it and get it back to earth?\" asked another.\n\n\"Carry it in your pockets,\" said one.\n\n\"No need of staking claims here,\" remarked another. \"There is enough\nfor everybody.\"\n\nMr. Edison suddenly turned the current of talk.\n\n\"What do you suppose those Martians were doing here?\"\n\n\"Why, they were wrecked here.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"According to your own showing they\ncould not have been wrecked here. This planet", "in store that we had not expected. We were to meet\nthe Martians before arriving at the world they dwelt in.\n\nAmong the stars which shone in that quarter of the heavens where Mars\nappeared as the master orb, there was one, lying directly in our path,\nwhich, to our astonishment, as we continued on, altered from the aspect\nof a star, underwent a gradual magnification, and soon presented itself\nin the form of a little planet.\n\n\nThe Asteroid.\n\n\"It is an asteroid,\" said somebody.\n\n", "news from the ships which had been sent to\nreconnoitre, continued the exploration of the little planet.\n\nAt a point nearly opposite to that where we had landed we came upon\nthe mine which the Martians had been working. They had removed the thin\ncoating of soil, laying bare the rich stores of gold beneath, and large\nquantities of the latter had been removed. Some of it was so solidly\npacked that the strokes of the instruments by means of which they had\ndetached it were visible like the streaks left by a knife cutting cheese.\n\n\nReason for A", "iculty in Starting.\n\nWe did not find it so easy to start from the asteroid as it had been to\nstart from the earth; that is to say, we could not so readily generate\na very high velocity.\n\nIn consequence of the comparatively small size of the asteroid, its\nelectric influence was very much less than that of the earth, and\nnotwithstanding the appliances which we possessed for intensifying the\nelectrical effect, it was not possible to produce a sufficient repulsion\nto start us off for Mars with anything like the impulse which we had\nreceived from", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "of Colonel Smith, who had so frequently stalked Indians that\ndevices of this kind readily occurred to his mind, the sentinels all\nwore garments corresponding in color to that of the soil of the asteroid,\nwhich was of a dark, reddish brown hue. This would tend to conceal them\nfrom the prying eyes of the Martians.\n\nThe commander himself frequently went around the edge of the planet in\norder to take a look at Mars, and I often accompanied him.\n\n\nMarvellous Discoveries.\n\nThe Martians Were the Builders of the", "they are unable to control their motions as we can do with our electrical\nships. They depend simply upon the force of gravitation. Having passed\nthe limit of the attraction of Mars, they have now fallen within the\nattraction of the asteroid, and they must slowly sink to its surface.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Cannot Stop.\n\n\"Having, as I am convinced, no means of producing or controlling\nelectrical attraction and repulsion, they cannot stop themselves, but must\ncome down upon the asteroid. Having got here they could never get away\nagain, except as we know the", "\nruddy planet, and manifestly approaching them. A little inspection with\nthe telescope had shown that it was one of the projectile cars used by\nthe Martians.\n\nOur ship had ventured so far from the asteroid that for a moment it seemed\ndoubtful whether it would be able to return in time to give warning,\nbecause the electrical influence of the asteroid was comparatively\nslight at such a distance, and, after they had reversed their polarity,\nand applied their intensifier, so as to make that influence effective,\ntheir motion was at first exceed", "in about that proportion?\"\n\n\"Gold,\" exclaimed one of the party.\n\n\nThe Golden Asteroid!\n\nFor a moment we were startled beyond expression. The truth had flashed\nupon us.\n\nThis must be a golden planet--this little asteroid. If it were not\ncomposed internally of gold it could never have made me weigh three\ntimes more than I ought to weigh.\n\n\"But where is the gold?\" cried one.\n\n\"Covered up, of course,\" said Lord Kelvin. \"Buried in star dust. This\n", ". It is perfectly plain to me that they have been disabled\nin a battle. The Martians must have been fighting among themselves.\"\n\n\nA Martian Civil War!\n\n\"About the gold!\" exclaimed one.\n\n\"Of course. What else was there to fight about?\"\n\nAt this instant one of our men came running from a considerable distance,\nwaving his arms excitedly, but unable to give voice to his story, in the\ninappreciable atmosphere of the asteroid, until he had come up and made\ntelephonic connection with us.\n\n\"There is a", "ingly slow.\n\nFortunately after a time they got under way with sufficient velocity to\nbring them back to us before the approaching Martians could overtake them.\n\nThe latter were not moving with great velocity, having evidently projected\nthemselves from Mars with only just sufficient force to throw them within\nthe feeble sphere of gravitation of the asteroid, so that they should\nvery gently land upon its surface.\n\nIndeed, looking out behind the electrical ship which had brought us the\nwarning, we immediately saw the projectile of the Martians approaching. It\nsparkled", "\"Yes, evidently; but how does it come inside the orbit of Mars?\"\n\n\"Oh, there are several asteroids,\" said one of the astronomers, \"which\ntravel inside the orbit of Mars, along a part of their course, and,\nfor aught we can tell, there may be many which have not yet been caught\nsight of from the earth, that are nearer to the sun than Mars is.\"\n\n\"This must be one of them.\"\n\n\"Manifestly so.\"\n\nAs we drew nearer the mysterious little planet revealed itself to us as\na perfectly", "meantime the other electrical ships approached, and several of\nthem made a landing upon the asteroid. Everybody was eager to see this\nwonderful little world, which, as I have already remarked, was only five\nmiles in diameter.\n\n\nExploring the Planet.\n\nSeveral of us from the flagship started out hastily to explore the\nminiature planet. And now our attention was recalled to an intensely\ninteresting phenomenon which had engaged our thoughts not only when we\nwere upon the moon, but during our flight through space. This was the\nalmost" ], [ "brought as prisoners to its surface, yet\nthe memory of our distant home had never perished from the hearts of our\nrace, and when we recognized you, as we believed, our own brothers, come\nto rescue us from long imprisonment, there was great rejoicing. The news\nspread from mouth to mouth, wherever we were in the houses and families\nof our masters. We seemed to be powerless to aid you or to communicate\nwith you in any manner. Yet our hearts went out to you, as in your ships\nyou hung above the planet, and preparations were secretly made by all", "also, and recognized you as members of their own\nrace. There were several thousand of us, altogether, and we were kept by\nthe Martians to serve them as slaves, and particularly to delight their\nears with music, for our people have always been especially skilful in\nthe playing of musical instruments, and in songs, and while the Martians\nhave but little musical skill themselves, they are exceedingly fond of\nthese things.\"\n\n\nAwaiting a Rescue.\n\n\"Although Mars had completed not less than five thousand circuits about\nthe sun since our ancestors were", "the order went forth\nthat we should all be butchered, and that awful command was executed!\"\n\n\"How, then, did you escape?\" asked the Heidelberg Professor.\n\nAina seemed unable to speak for a while. Finally mastering her emotion,\nshe replied:\n\n\nHer Fortunate Escape.\n\n\"One of the chief officers of the Martians wished me to remain alive. He,\nwith his aides, carried me to one of the military depot of supplies,\nwhere I was found and rescued,\" and as she said this she turned toward\nColonel", "the girl that we had\nscarcely thought of looking to see if there was any one else in the room.\n\nGlancing beyond her, I now perceived sitting in richly decorated chairs\nthree or four gigantic Martians. They were listening to the music as\nif charmed.\n\nThe whole story told itself. This girl, if not their slave, was at any\nrate under their control, and she was furnishing entertainment for them\nby her musical skill. The fact that they could find pleasure in music\nso beautiful was, perhaps, an indication that they were not really as\nsavage", "a signal to the electrical ship which we had just\nquitted to draw near. It came alongside, so that one could step from\nits deck onto the flagship. Colonel Smith disappeared for a minute in\nthe interior of his ship, then re-emerged, leading the girl whom we had\nfound upon the planet.\n\n\"Take her inside, quick,\" he said, \"for she is not used to this thin air.\"\n\nIn fact, we were at so great an elevation that the rarity of the\natmosphere now compelled us all to wear our air-tight suits,", "the planet and their consequent almost entire\nlack of weight enabled the men to run with immense speed. The result,\nas I subsequently learned, was that after they had disappeared from our\nview they quitted the planet entirely, the force being sufficient to\npartially free them from its gravitation, so that they sailed out into\nspace, whirling helplessly end over end, until the elliptical orbits in\nwhich they travelled eventually brought them back again to the planet\non the side nearly opposite to that from which they had departed.\n\n\nHunting for the Enemy.", "as the Venus of Milo--a magnified human\nbeing not less than forty feet in height!\n\nBut for her swaying and the wild motions of her arms, we should have\nmistaken her for a marble statue.\n\nAina, who happened to be looking, instantly exclaimed:\n\n\"It is the woman from Ceres. She was taken prisoner by the Martians\nduring their last invasion of that world, and since then has been a\nslave in the palace of the Emperor.\"\n\n\nOvertaken by the Flood.\n\nApparently her great stat", ".\n\n\nThe Martian's Book.\n\nWith our assistance he pulled out a book!\n\nActually, it was a book, not very unlike the books which we have upon\nthe earth, but printed, of course, in characters that were entirely\nstrange and unknown to us. Yet these characters evidently gave expression\nto a highly intellectual language. All those who were standing by at\nthe moment uttered a shout of wonder and of delight, and the cry of\n\"A book! a book!\" ran around the circle, and the good news was even\npromptly communicated to", "of the unprecedented singularity of their situation. Millions of miles\naway from the earth, confronted on an asteroid by these diabolical\nmonsters from a maleficient planet, who were on the point of destroying\nthem with a strange torment of death--perhaps it was really more than\nhuman nature, deprived of the support of human surroundings, could have\nbeen expected to bear.\n\nThose who, as already described, had run with so great a speed that they\nwere projected, all unwilling, into space, rising in elliptical orbits\n", "\n\nA girl of my own race: a human being here upon the planet Mars!\n\nHer hair was loosely coiled and she was attired in graceful white drapery.\n\n\"By ----!\" cried Colonel Smith, \"she's human!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XII.\n\n\nStill the bewildering strains of the music came to our ears, and yet we\nstood there unperceived, though in the full glare of the chandelier.\n\nThe girl's face was presented in profile. It was exquisite in beauty,", "Prisoner.\n\nEstablishing the Identity of the Martians' Captive.\n\nOn this second trip to the mysterious house we had discovered another\napartment containing a very large number of the metallic boxes, filled\nwith compressed food.\n\n\"By Jove, it is a store house,\" said Colonel Smith. \"We must get more\nforce and carry it all off. Gracious, but this is a lucky night. We can\nreprovision the whole fleet from this room.\"\n\n\"I thought it singular,\" I said, \"that with the exception of the girl\nwh", "ure had enabled her to escape, while her\nmasters had been drowned. She had fled like the others, toward the south,\nbut being finally surrounded by the rising waters, had taken refuge on\nthe hillock of sand, where we saw her. This was fast giving way under\nthe assault of the waves, and even while we watched the water rose to\nher knees.\n\n\"Drop lower,\" was the order of the electrical steersman of the flagship,\nand as quickly as possible we approached the place where the towering\nfigure stood.\n\nShe had realized the hopelessness of", "survivors got away from earth, by propelling\ntheir projectile against gravitation with the aid of an explosive.\"\n\n\"Therefore, to a certain extent they will be at our mercy. Let us allow\nthem quietly to land upon the planet, and then I think, if it becomes\nnecessary, we can master them.\"\n\nNotwithstanding Mr. Edison's reassuring words and manner, the company upon\nthe asteroid experienced a dreadful suspense while the projectile which\nseemed very formidable as it drew near, sank with a slow and graceful\nm", "Martian had perished, by a vengeful stroke\nlaunched from his native globe.\n\nBut Providence had placed in our hands a far better interpreter than he\ncould ever have been. This girl of our own race would need no urging,\nor coercion, on our part in order to induce her to reveal any secrets\nof the Martians that might be useful in our further proceedings.\n\nBut one thing was first necessary to be done.\n\nWe must learn to talk with her.\n\n\nLearning Her Language.\n\nBut for the discovery of the store", "that on the earth no man would have been able to lift\ncould here be tossed about like a hollow rubber ball.\n\nWhile we were examining the mine, one of the men left to guard the\nMartian came running to inform us that the latter evidently wished to\nmake some communication. Mr. Edison and others hurried to the side of the\nprisoner. He still lay on his back, from which position he was not able\nto move, notwithstanding all his efforts. But by the motion of his eyes,\naided by a pantomime with his fingers, he made us understand", "and the girl,\nnot being thus attired, would have fallen unconscious on the deck if we\nhad not instantly removed her to the interior of the car.\n\nThere she quickly recovered from the effects of the deprivation of air\nand looked about her, pale, astonished, but yet apparently without fear.\n\nEvery motion of this girl convinced me that she not only recognized\nus as members of her own race, but that she felt that her only hope\nlay in our aid. Therefore, strange as we were to her in many respects,\nnevertheless she did not think that she was in danger", "the Martians!\"\n\nThe startling truth burst upon the minds of all. Here upon this little\nplanetoid were several of the gigantic inhabitants of the world that we\nwere going to attack. There was more than one man in the flagship who\nrecognized them well, and who shuddered at the recognition, instinctively\nrecalling the recent terrible experience of the earth.\n\nWas this an outpost of the warlike Mars?\n\nAround these monstrous enemies we saw several of their engines of\nwar. Some of these appeared to have been wrecked, but at least", "while among us.\n\nThe circumstances under which we had found her were quickly explained. Her\nbeauty, her strange fate and the impenetrable mystery which surrounded\nher excited universal admiration and wonder.\n\n\nHow Came She on Mars?\n\n\"How did she get on Mars?\" was the question that everybody asked, and\nthat nobody could answer.\n\nBut while all were crowding around and overwhelming the poor girl with\ntheir staring, suddenly she burst into tears, and then, with arms\noutstretched in the same appealing manner which had so stirred our\nsympath", "said, but we could\nreadily comprehend, from his gestures, and from the manner in which his\nfeatures lighted up at the recognition of familiar scenes and objects,\nwhat his sentiments in regard to them were, and, in a general way,\nwhat part they played in the life of the planet.\n\nHe confirmed our opinion that certain of the works which we saw beneath\nus were fortifications, intended for the protection of the planet against\ninvaders from outer space. A cunning and almost diabolical look came\ninto his eyes as he pointed to one of these strongholds.\n", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of" ], [ "focused upon any desired point.\n\n\nTesting the \"Disintegrator.\"\n\nI had the good fortune to be present when this powerful engine of\ndestruction was submitted to its first test. We had gone upon the roof\nof Mr. Edison's laboratory and the inventor held the little instrument,\nwith its attached mirror, in his hand. We looked about for some object\non which to try its powers. On a bare limb of a tree not far away,\nfor it was late in the Fall, sat a disconsolate crow.\n\n\"Good,\" said Mr. Edis", "hundred and twenty-five millions of millions\nof vibrations per second of the ultra red rays.\n\nHaving obtained an instrument of such power, it only remained to\nconcentrate its energy upon a given object in order that the atoms\ncomposing that object should be set into violent undulation, sufficient\nto burst it asunder and to scatter its molecules broadcast. This the\ninventor effected by the simplest means in the world--simply a parabolic\nreflector by which the destructive waves could be sent like a beam of\nlight, but invisible, in any direction and", "be amused, and the Emperor of China, who\nhad been studying English, laughed in his sleeve, as if he suspected\nthat a joke had been perpetrated.\n\n\"I think,\" said one of the deputies, \"that a simple exhibition of the\npowers of the instrument, without a technical explanation of its method\nof working, will suffice for our purpose.\"\n\nThis suggestion was immediately approved. In response to it, Mr. Edison,\nby a few simple experiments, showed how he could quickly and certainly\nshatter into its constituent atoms any object upon which the vibratory", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "on, \"that will do.\" He touched a button at the\nside of the instrument and a soft, whirring noise was heard.\n\n\"Feathers,\" said Mr. Edison, \"have a vibration period of three hundred\nand eighty-six million per second.\"\n\nHe adjusted the index as he spoke. Then, through a sighting tube, he\naimed at the bird.\n\n\"Now watch,\" he said.\n\n\nThe Crow's Fate.\n\nAnother soft whirr in the instrument, a momentary flash of light close\naround it,", "which\nits destructive bolt emanated.\n\nA moment later the knob disappeared. The irresistible vibrations\ndarted from the electrical disintegrator and had fallen upon it and\ninstantaneously shattered it into atoms.\n\n\"That fixes them,\" said Mr. Edison, turning to me with a smile.\n\nAnd indeed it did fix them. We had most effectually spiked their gun. It\nwould deal no more death blows.\n\nThe doings of the flagship had been closely watched throughout the\nsquadron. The", "\nThe Battle Commences.\n\nThe signal was given, and the circle of electrical ships closed in upon\nthe asteroid.\n\nIn the meantime Mr. Edison had been donning his air-tight suit. Before\nwe could clearly comprehend his intention he had passed through the\ndouble-trapped door which gave access to the exterior of the car without\npermitting the loss of air, and was standing upon what served as the\ndeck of the ship.\n\nIn his hand he carried a disintegrator. With a quick motion he sighted it.\n\nAs quickly as possible I", "as if frozen fast in their tracks. The\nexpert electrician, whose poor aim had had such disastrous results,\nheld in his hand an instrument which was in perfect condition, yet with\nmouth agape, he stood trembling like a captured bird.\n\n\nThe Electricians Lose Their Heads.\n\nIt was a disgraceful exhibition. Mr. Edison, however, had not lost\nhis head. Again and again he sighted at the dreadful knob with his\ndisintegrator, but the vibratory force refused to respond.\n\nThe means of safety were", "\nforce of the disintegrator should be directed. In this manner he caused an\ninkstand to disappear under the very nose of the Emperor William without a\nspot of ink being scattered upon his sacred person, but evidently the odor\nof the disunited atoms was not agreeable to the nostrils of the Kaiser.\n\nMr. Edison also explained in general terms the principle on which the\ninstrument worked. He was greeted with round after round of applause,\nand the spirit of the assembly rose high.\n\nNext the workings of the electrical ship were explained, and it was", "he carried one of\nhis marvellous disintegrators. He was requested to explain and illustrate\nits operation. Mr. Edison smiled.\n\n\nEdison to the Rescue.\n\n\"I can explain its details,\" he said, \"to Lord Kelvin, for instance,\nbut if Their Majesties will excuse me, I doubt whether I can make it\nplain to the crowned heads.\"\n\nThe Emperor William smiled superciliously. Apparently he thought that\nanother assault had been committed upon the divine right of kings. But\nthe Czar Nicholas appeared to", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "-hearted remained\nsteadfast, but without hope and knowing not what to do.\n\nBut there was a gleam of hope of which the general public as yet knew\nnothing. It was due to a few dauntless men of science, conspicuous\namong whom were Lord Kelvin, the great English savant; Herr Roentgen,\nthe discoverer of the famous X ray, and especially Thomas A. Edison, the\nAmerican genius of science. These men and a few others had examined with\nthe utmost care the engines of war, the flying machines, the gener", "\n\nBut several of us, with Mr. Edison, stood fast, watching\nfor an opportunity to get the Martians within range of the\ndisintegrators. Luckily we were enabled, by shifting our position a\nlittle to the left, to get out of the line of sight of our enemies\nconcealed in the car.\n\n\"If we cannot catch sight of them,\" said Mr. Edison, \"we shall have to\nriddle the car on the chance of hitting them.\"\n\n\"It will be like firing into a bush to kill a hidden bear,\" said one of", "destroyed by a force applied to it in such a way that\nit should simply increase the swing of those vibrations up to the point\nof destruction.\n\nNow Mr. Edison had been able to ascertain the vibratory swing of many\nwell-known substances, and to produce, by means of the instrument which\nhe had contrived, pulsations in the ether which were completely under his\ncontrol, and which could be made long or short, quick or slow, at his\nwill. He could run through the whole gamut from the slow vibrations of\nsound in air up to the four", "hint which had been conveyed from various investigations\nin the domain of physics, and concentrating upon the problem all those\nunmatched powers of intellect which distinguished him, the great inventor\nhad succeeded in producing a little implement which one could carry in\nhis hand, but which was more powerful than any battleship that ever\nfloated. The details of its mechanism could not be easily explained,\nwithout the use of tedious technicalities and the employment of terms,\ndiagrams and mathematical statements, all of which would lie outside\nthe scope of this narrative. But the principle of the thing was simple", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "otion toward the surface of the ground. Evidently it was about to land\nvery near the spot where we stood awaiting it.\n\nIts inmates had apparently just caught sight of us. They evinced signs\nof astonishment, and seemed at a loss exactly what to do. We could see\nprojecting from the fore part of their car at least two of the polished\nknobs, whose fearful use and power we well comprehended.\n\nSeveral of our men cried out to Mr. Edison in an extremity of terror:\n\n\"Why do you not", "\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nThis enthusiasm would have had but little justification had Mr. Edison\ndone nothing more than invent a machine which could navigate the\natmosphere and the regions of interplanetary space.\n\nHe had, however, and this fact was generally known, although the details\nhad not yet leaked out--invented also machines of war intended to meet\nthe utmost that the Martians could do for either offence or defence in\nthe struggle which was now about to ensue.\n\n\nA Wonderful Instrument.\n\nActing upon the", "ators, Mr. Edison had readjusted the range\nof vibrations covered by the instruments, and since then we had found\nnothing that did not yield to them. Consequently, we had no fear that\nthe metal of the network would not be destroyed.\n\nThere was danger, however, of arousing attention by shattering\nholes through the tree tops. This could be avoided by first carefully\nascertaining how far away the network was, and then with the adjustable\nmirrors attached to the disintegrators focusing the vibratory discharge\nat that distance.\n\n\n", "\n\nThe Awful Heat Ray.\n\nSuddenly there was a quicker movement than usual among the Martians,\na swift adjustment of that one of their engines of war which, as already\nnoticed, seemed to be practically uninjured, and then there darted from it\nand alighted upon one of the foremost ships a dazzling lightning stroke\na mile in length, at whose touch the metallic sides of the car curled\nand withered and, licked for a moment by what seemed lambent flames,\ncollapsed into a mere cinder." ], [ "one,\nas far as we could see, was still in a proper condition for use.\n\nHow had these creatures got there?\n\n\"Why, that is easy enough to account for,\" I said, as a sudden\nrecollection flashed into my mind. \"Don't you remember the report of\nthe astronomers more than six months ago, at the end of the conference\nin Washington, that something would seem to indicate the departure of a\nnew expedition from Mars had been noticed by them? We have heard nothing\nof that expedition since. We know that it did not reach the earth. It\n", "And in this Land of Sand, it is said, they did many wonderful works.\"\n\n\"They had been astonished at the sight of the great mountains which\nsurrounded our valley, for on Mars there are no mountains, and after\nthey came into the Land of Sand they built there with huge blocks of\nstone mountains in imitation of what they had seen, and used them for\npurposes that our people did not understand.\"\n\n\"Then, too, it is said they left there at the foot of these mountains\nthat they had made a gigantic image of the great chief who led them in\n", "\nIndeed, one of the professors was certain that some little concretions\nfound on the interior of the piece of skull were petrified portions\nof the brain matter itself, and he set to work with the microscope to\nexamine its organic quality.\n\nIn the mean time, the repairs to the electrical ships had been completed,\nand, although these discoveries upon the moon had created a most profound\nsensation among the members of the expedition, and aroused an almost\nirresistible desire to continue the explorations thus happily begun,\nyet everybody knew that these", "ar mountain Aristarchus.\n\nBefore these expeditions started, a careful exploration had been made in\nthe neighborhood of Cape Heraclides. But, except that the broken walls\nof the watch tower on the peak, composed of blocks of enormous size,\nhad evidently been the work of creatures endowed with human intelligence,\nno remains were found indicating the former presence of inhabitants upon\nthis part of the moon.\n\n\nA Gigantic Human Footprint.\n\nBut along the shore of the old sea, just where the so-called Bay of\nRainbows separates itself from the ab", "level plain remarkably\nsmooth over most of its surface, unmistakable evidences of former\ninhabitation. A gigantic city had evidently at one time existed near\nthe centre of this great plain. The outlines of its walls and the\nfoundation marks of some of its immense buildings were plainly made out,\nand elaborate plans of this vanished capital of the moon were prepared\nby several members of the party.\n\n\nMore Evidences of Habitation.\n\nOne of them was fortunate enough to discover an even more precious\nrelic of the ancient lunarians. It was", "the cape, the ruins of what appeared to be an ancient watch tower. It\nwas evidently composed of Cyclopean blocks larger than any that I had\never seen even among the ruins of Greece, Egypt and Asia Minor.\n\n\nThe Moon Was Inhabited.\n\nHere, then, was visible proof that the moon had been inhabited, although\nprobably it was not inhabited now. I cannot describe the exultant feeling\nwhich took possession of me at this discovery. It settled so much that\nlearned men had been disputing about for centuries.\n\n\"What will", "work that we performed. Strange\nwas the sight, and stranger our feelings, as here on the surface of a\nworld distant from the earth, and on soil which had never before been\npressed by the foot of man, we performed that last ceremony of respect\nwhich mortals pay to mortality. In the ancient beach at the foot of the\npeak we made a deep opening, and there covered forever the faces of our\nfriends, leaving them to sleep among the ruins of empires, and among\nthe graves of races which had vanished probably ages before Adam and\nEve appeared in Paradise", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "yss of the Sea of Showers, there\nwere found some stratified rocks in which the fascinated eyes of the\nexplorer beheld the clear imprint of a gigantic human foot, measuring\nfive feet in length from toe to heel.\n\n\nDetailing the Marvellous Adventures of the Earth's Warriors in\nUnknown Worlds.\n\nThe most minute search failed to reveal another trace of the presence\nof the ancient giant, who had left the impress of his foot in the wet\nsands of the beach here so many millions of years ago that even the\nimagination", "Alarming Encounter.\n\nAs we pushed along, our hearts, I confess, beating a little quickly,\na shadow stirred in front of us.\n\nSomething darker than the night itself approached.\n\nAs it drew near it assumed the appearance of an enormous dog, as tall\nas an ox, which ran swiftly our way with a threatening motion of its\nhead. But before it could even utter a snarl the whirr of Colonel Smith's\ndisintegrator was heard and the creature vanished in the shadow.\n\n\"Gracious, did you ever see such a beast?\"", "the northwest, now lay the continent\nof Chryse, a vast red land, oval in outline, and surrounded and crossed\nby innumerable canals. Chryse was not less than 1,600 miles across,\nand it, too, evidently swarmed with giant inhabitants.\n\nBut the shadow of night lay upon the greater portion of the land of\nChryse. In our rapid motion westward we had out-stripped the sun and\nhad now arrived at a point where day and night met upon the surface of\nthe planet beneath us.\n\nBehind", "they say,\" I exclaimed, \"when I show them a photograph\nof that?\"\n\nBelow the peak, stretching far to right and left, lay a barren beach\nwhich had evidently once been washed by sea waves, because it was marked\nby long curved ridges such as the advancing and retiring tide leaves\nupon the shore of the ocean.\n\nThis beach sloped rapidly outward and downward toward a profound abyss,\nwhich had once, evidently, been the bed of a sea, but which now appeared\nto us simply as the empty, yawn", "part of the lunar world, for I had often studied it from the earth with a\ntelescope, and I had thought that if there was any part of the moon where\none might, with fair expectation of success, look for inhabitants, or if\nnot for inhabitants, at least for relics of life no longer existent there,\nthis would surely be the place. It was, therefore, with no small degree\nof curiosity, notwithstanding the unexpectedly frightful and repulsive\nappearance that the surface of the moon presented, that I now saw myself\nrapidly approaching the region", "and make\ndesolate. Our forefathers could not withstand them. They seemed like\ndemons, who had been sent from the abodes of evil to destroy our race.\"\n\n\"Some of the wise men said that this thing had come upon our people\nbecause they had been very wicked, and the gods in Heaven were angry. Some\nsaid they came from the moon, and some from the far-away stars. But of\nthese things my forefathers knew nothing for a certainty.\"\n\n\"The destroyers showed no mercy to the inhabitants of the beautiful\nvalley. Not", "held the immense oval-shaped land of Thaumasia containing in its centre\nthe celebrated \"Lake of the Sun,\" a circular body of water not less than\n500 miles in diameter, with dozens of great canals running away from it\nlike the spokes of a wheel in every direction, thus connecting it with\nthe ocean which surrounds it on the south and east, and with the still\nlarger canals that encircle it toward the north and west.\n\nThis Lake of the Sun came to play a great part in our subsequent\nadventures. It was evident to us from", "of the unprecedented singularity of their situation. Millions of miles\naway from the earth, confronted on an asteroid by these diabolical\nmonsters from a maleficient planet, who were on the point of destroying\nthem with a strange torment of death--perhaps it was really more than\nhuman nature, deprived of the support of human surroundings, could have\nbeen expected to bear.\n\nThose who, as already described, had run with so great a speed that they\nwere projected, all unwilling, into space, rising in elliptical orbits\n", "of Colonel Smith, who had so frequently stalked Indians that\ndevices of this kind readily occurred to his mind, the sentinels all\nwore garments corresponding in color to that of the soil of the asteroid,\nwhich was of a dark, reddish brown hue. This would tend to conceal them\nfrom the prying eyes of the Martians.\n\nThe commander himself frequently went around the edge of the planet in\norder to take a look at Mars, and I often accompanied him.\n\n\nMarvellous Discoveries.\n\nThe Martians Were the Builders of the", "said, but we could\nreadily comprehend, from his gestures, and from the manner in which his\nfeatures lighted up at the recognition of familiar scenes and objects,\nwhat his sentiments in regard to them were, and, in a general way,\nwhat part they played in the life of the planet.\n\nHe confirmed our opinion that certain of the works which we saw beneath\nus were fortifications, intended for the protection of the planet against\ninvaders from outer space. A cunning and almost diabolical look came\ninto his eyes as he pointed to one of these strongholds.\n", "others, like the inhabitants of Pompeii, had lingered too long, or had\nreturned after beginning their flight to secure abandoned treasures,\nand now it was too late to get away.\n\n\nEngulfing the City.\n\nWith a roar that shook the planet the white wall rushed upon the great\ncity beneath our feet, and in an instant it had been engulfed. On went\nthe flood, swallowing up the Lake of the Sun itself, and in a little\nwhile, as far as our eyes could range, the land of Thaumasia had been\nturned", "the\nbeginning. Two of these were stretched headless upon the ground. Three\nothers had suffered horrible injuries where the invisible vibratory\nbeams from the disintegrators had grazed them, and they could not long\nsurvive. One only remained apparently uninjured.\n\n\nThe Gigantic Martian.\n\nIt is impossible for me to describe the appearance of this creature\nin terms that would be readily understood. Was he like a man? Yes and\nno. He possessed many human characteristics, but they were exaggerated and\nmonstrous in scale and in detail. His head" ], [ "as straight as the spokes of a wheel,\nin every direction, and connected it with the surrounding seas.\n\nLike all the other Martian continents, Thaumasia lay below the level of\nthe sea, except toward the south, where it fronted the ocean.\n\nCompletely surrounding the lake was a great ring of cities constituting\nthe capital of Mars. Here the genius of the Martians had displayed\nitself to the full. The surrounding country was irrigated until it fairly\nbloomed with gigantic vegetation and flowers; the canals were carefully\nregulated with locks", "lies below the level\nof the oceans. In order at the same time to irrigate the soil and make it\nfruitful, and to protect themselves from overflows by the ocean breaking\nin upon them, the Martians have constructed the immense and innumerable\ncanals which you see running in all directions over the continents.\"\n\n\"There is one period in the year, and that period has now arrived, when\nthere is special danger of a great deluge. Most of the oceans of Mars\nlie in the southern hemisphere. When it is Summer in that hemis", "of innumerable canals with habitations\ncrowded along their banks, which came to a focus at a point on the\ncontinent of Aeria, westward from the Syrtis Major.\n\n\nDestroying The Martians.\n\nWith Aina's Aid Our Warriors Prepare an Awful Revenge on the Enemy.\n\nWe stopped the electrical ship at an elevation of perhaps three hundred\nfeet above the vast roof of a structure which Aina assured us was the\nbuilding we were in search of.\n\nHere we remained for a few minutes, caut", ".\n\nFor a moment we recoiled from our undertaking, and arrested the motion\nof the electric ship.\n\nBut on closely examining the surface beneath us we found that there\nwas a broad region, where comparatively few bright lights were to be\nseen. From my knowledge of the geography of Mars I knew that this was a\npart of the Land of Ausonia, situated a few hundred miles northeast of\nHellas, where we had first seen the planet.\n\nEvidently it was not so thickly populated as some of the other parts of\nMars, and", "\n\n\nChapter X.\n\n\nAt first we rose to a still greater height, in order more effectually\nto escape the watchful eyes of our enemies, and then, after having\nmoved rapidly several hundred miles toward the west, we dropped down\nagain within easy eyeshot of the surface of the planet, and commenced\nour inspection.\n\nWhen we originally reached Mars, as I have related, it was at a point in\nits southern hemisphere, in latitude 45 degrees south, and longitude 75\ndegrees east, that we first closely approached its surface", ". Underneath\nus was the land called \"Hellas,\" and it was over this land of Hellas\nthat the Martian air fleet had suddenly made its appearance.\n\nOur westward motion, while at a great height above the planet, had\nbrought us over another oval-shaped land called \"Noachia,\" surrounded by\nthe dark ocean, the \"Mare Erytraeum.\" Now approaching nearer the surface\nour course was changed so as to carry us toward the equator of Mars.\n\nWe passed over the curious, half-drowned continent known to terrestrial", "\nWe Must Drown Them Out.\n\n\"Yes, I will explain to you. I have already told you, and, in fact,\nyou must have seen it for yourselves, that there are almost no mountains\non Mars. A very learned man of my race used to say that the reason was\nbecause Mars is so very old a world that the mountains it once had have\nbeen almost completely levelled, and the entire surface of the planet had\nbecome a great plain. There are depressions, however, most of which are\noccupied by the seas. The greater part of the land", "\nSuch were the exclamations heard on all sides.\n\nWhen at first we were suspended above Hellas, looking toward the north,\nthe northeast and the northwest, we had seen at a distance some of these\ngreat red regions, and had perceived the curious network of canals by\nwhich they were intersected. But that was a far-off and imperfect view.\n\nNow, when we were near at hand and straight above one of these singular\nlands, the magnificence of the panorama surpassed belief.\n\nFrom the earth about a dozen of the principal can", "all was brilliant with sunshine, but before us the face of Mars\ngradually disappeared in the deepening gloom. Through the darkness,\nfar away, we could behold magnificent beams of electric light darting\nacross the curtain of night, and evidently serving to illuminate towns\nand cities that lay beneath.\n\nWe pushed on into the night for two or three hundred miles over that part\nof the continent of Chryse whose inhabitants were doubtless enjoying\nthe deep sleep that accompanies the dark hours immediately preceding\nthe dawn. Still everywhere splendid clusters of light lay like", "the beginning that it was the\nchief centre of population on the planet. It lies in latitude 25 degrees\nSouth and longitude about 90 degrees west.\n\n\nCompleting the Circuit.\n\nHaving completed the circuit of the Martian globe, we were moved by\nthe same feeling which every discoverer of new lands experiences, and\nimmediately returned to our original place above the land of Hellas,\nbecause since that was the first part of Mars that we had seen, we felt\na greater degree of familiarity with it than with any other portion of\nthe", "Martians in the most\nexpensive manner. Thence we passed into a great circular apartment, with\na dome painted in imitation of the sky, and so lofty that to our eyes it\nseemed like the firmament itself. Here we found ourselves approaching an\nelevated throne situated in the centre of the apartment, while long rows\nof brilliantly armored guards flanked us on either side, and, grouped\naround the throne, some standing and others reclining upon the flights of\nsteps which appeared to be of solid gold, was an array of Martian woman,\nbeaut", "fallen\nconstellations upon the ground, indicating the sites of great towns,\nwhich, like those of the earth, never sleep.\n\nBut this scene, although weird and beautiful, could give us little of\nthe kind of information we were in search of.\n\nAccordingly it was resolved to turn back eastward until we had arrived\nin the twilight space separating day and night, and then hover over\nthe planet at that point, allowing it to turn beneath us so that, as\nwe looked down, we should see in succession the entire circuit of the\nglobe of Mars while", "irons as being\nthe very focus of the planet. While it might also be a strong point\nof defence, yet an effective blow struck there would go to the enemy's\nheart and be more likely to bring the Martians promptly to terms than\nanything else.\n\nThe first thing, then, was to locate the Lake of the Sun on the\nsmoke-hidden surface of the planet beneath us. This was a problem that\nthe astronomers could readily solve.\n\nFortunately, in the flagship itself there was one of the star-gazing\ngentlemen who had", "be found and that it would be\npracticable for us to make a descent there.\n\nBut when we had arrived on that side of Mars which was turned away from\nthe sun, we no longer saw beneath us, as we had done on our previous visit\nto the night hemisphere of the planet, brilliant groups and clusters of\nelectric lights beneath us. All was dark.\n\nIn fact, so completely did the great shell of smoke conceal the planet\nthat the place occupied by the latter seemed to be simply a vast black\nhole in the firmament.\n\nThe sun was hidden", ".\n\n\"That's all right,\" exclaimed the enthusiast I have just quoted. \"I knew\nit would be so. The trees are big, for the same reason that the men are,\nbecause the planet is small, and they can grow big without becoming too\nheavy to stand.\"\n\nFlashing in the sun on all sides were the roofs of metallic buildings,\nwhich were evidently the only kind of edifices that Mars possessed. At\nany rate, if stone or wood were employed in their construction both were\ncompletely covered with metallic plates.\n\nThis added", "the northwest, now lay the continent\nof Chryse, a vast red land, oval in outline, and surrounded and crossed\nby innumerable canals. Chryse was not less than 1,600 miles across,\nand it, too, evidently swarmed with giant inhabitants.\n\nBut the shadow of night lay upon the greater portion of the land of\nChryse. In our rapid motion westward we had out-stripped the sun and\nhad now arrived at a point where day and night met upon the surface of\nthe planet beneath us.\n\nBehind", "And in this Land of Sand, it is said, they did many wonderful works.\"\n\n\"They had been astonished at the sight of the great mountains which\nsurrounded our valley, for on Mars there are no mountains, and after\nthey came into the Land of Sand they built there with huge blocks of\nstone mountains in imitation of what they had seen, and used them for\npurposes that our people did not understand.\"\n\n\"Then, too, it is said they left there at the foot of these mountains\nthat they had made a gigantic image of the great chief who led them in\n", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "als crossing the\ncontinent beneath us had been perceived, but we saw hundreds, nay,\nthousands of them!\n\nIt was a double system, intended both for irrigation and for protection,\nand far more marvellous in its completeness than the boldest speculative\nminds among our astronomers had ever dared to imagine.\n\n\"Ha! that's what I always said,\" exclaimed a veteran from one of our great\nobservatories. \"Mars is red because its soil and vegetation are red.\"\n\nAnd certainly appearances indicated that he was right.", "ivering air.\n\nThe airships of the Martians were destroyed by the score, but yet they\nflocked upon us thicker and faster.\n\nWe dropped lower and our blows fell upon the forts, and upon the\nwidespread city bordering the Lake of the Sun. We almost entirely\nsilenced the fire of one of the forts; but there were forty more in full\naction within reach of our eyes!\n\nSome of the metallic buildings were partly unroofed by the disintegrators\nand some had their walls riddled and fell with thundering cr" ], [ ", not only completely\ndestroyed whatever it fell upon but it seared the veins and arteries\nof the dismembered bodies so that there was no sanguinary exhibition\nconnected with its murderous work.\n\nAll this time the shackled Martian had lain on his back where we had\nleft him bound. What his feeling must have been may be imagined. At\ntimes, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, wildly rolling and exhibiting,\nwhen he saw that the victory was in our hands, the first indications of\nfear and terror shaking his soul that had yet", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier", "the deluge. Even if all the others survived\nages would elapse before they could regain the power to injure us.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Submit.\n\nI need not describe in detail how our propositions were received by the\nMartian monarch. He knew, and his advisers, some of whom he had called\nin consultation, also knew, that everything was in our hands to do as we\npleased. They readily agreed, therefore, that they would make no more\nresistance and that we and our electrical ships should be undisturbed\nwhile we remained upon Mars. The", "by me with the light of battle upon his face.\n\n\"Sweep the discharge across the three,\" I exclaimed. \"Otherwise there\nwill be one left and before we can fire again he will crush us.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Are Killed.\n\nThe whirr of the two instruments sounded simultaneously, and with a quick,\nhorizontal motion we swept the lines of force around in such a manner\nthat all three of the Martians were caught by the vibratory streams and\nactually cut in two.\n\nLong gaps were opened in the wall of the room behind them,", "\n\"But, as you all know, the first feeling of relief which followed the\ndeath of our foes was quickly succeeded by the fearful news which came to\nus from the observatories, that the Martians were undoubtedly preparing\nfor a second invasion of our planet. Against this we should have had no\nrecourse and no hope but for the genius of one of my countrymen, who,\nas you are all aware, has perfected means which may enable us not only\nto withstand the attack of those awful enemies, but to meet them, and,\nlet us hope, to", "spirit had\nbeen blown out of them by a breath of terror that shivered their marrow.\n\n\nNo Pity for Our Foes.\n\nStill the pitiless disintegrators played upon them until Mr. Edison,\nmaking himself heard, now that the thunder of their engines had ceased\nto reverberate through the chamber, commanded that our fire should cease.\n\nIn the meantime the armed Martians outside the palace, hearing the\nuproar within, seeing our men pouring their fire through the windows,\nand supposing that we were guilty at once of", "ulums in England and on the\nContinent of Europe.\n\nThe terrible results achieved by the invaders had produced everywhere a\nmingled feeling of consternation and hopelessness. The devastation was\nwidespread. The death-dealing engines which the Martians had brought with\nthem had proved irresistible and the inhabitants of the earth possessed\nnothing capable of contending against them. There had been no protection\nfor the great cities; no protection even for the open country. Everything\nhad gone down before the savage onslaught of those merciless invaders from\n", "ators pointed upon the crowd like the muzzles\nof a cruiser's guns.\n\nAnd now the Martians saw that the contest was hopeless for them, and\ntheir mad struggle to get out of the range of the disintegrators and\nto escape from the death chamber was more appalling to look upon than\nanything that had yet occurred.\n\nIt was a panic of giants. They trod one another under foot; they yelled\nand screamed in their terror; they tore each other with their clawlike\nfingers. They no longer thought of resistance. The battle", "Everywhere the cry now became, \"Let us make\nhaste! Let us get ready at once! Who knows but the Martians have already\nembarked, and are now on their way to destroy us?\"\n\nUnder the impulse of this new feeling, which, it must be admitted,\nwas very largely inspired by terror, the vast ballroom was quickly\ndeserted. The lights were suddenly put out in the great dome of balloons,\nfor someone had whispered:\n\n\"Suppose they should see that from Mars? Would they not guess what we\nwere about, and redouble", ",\" commanded Mr. Edison. \"We have got them\ndown, and we are not going to murder them without necessity.\"\n\n\"Besides,\" he added, \"I want to capture some of them alive.\"\n\nThe signal was given as he had ordered. The flagship then alone dropped\nslowly toward the place on the asteroid where the prostrate Martians were.\n\n\nA Terrible Scene.\n\nAs we got near them a terrible scene unfolded itself to our eyes. There\nhad evidently been not more than half a dozen of the monsters in", "owlingly at her as we drew near. Apparently,\nthe bitterness of feeling which had led to the awful massacre of all her\nrace had not yet vanished. And, indeed, since the fact that she remained\nalive could have been known only to the Martian who had abducted her and\nto his immediate companions, her reappearance with us must have been a\ngreat surprise to all those who now looked upon her.\n\n\nThe Enemy Vanquished.\n\nThe Martians Succumb at Last, and Are at Our Mercy.\n\nIt was", "87 days. More than 9,000 years had therefore elapsed since the first\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians.\n\nAnother great mystery--that of the origin of those gigantic and\ninexplicable monuments, the great pyramids and the Sphinx, on the banks of\nthe Nile, had also apparently been solved by us, although these Egyptian\nwonders had been the furthest things from our thoughts when we set out\nfor the planet Mars.\n\nWe had travelled more than thirty millions of miles in order to get\nansw", "effects which the news\nof the drowning of the planet had produced. It was evident that many of\nthe inhabitants of the cities had already fled. Airships on which the\nfugitives hung as thick as swarms of bees were seen, elevated but a short\ndistance above the ground, and making their way rapidly toward the south.\n\nThe Martians knew that their only hope of escape lay in reaching the\nhigh southern border of the land before the floods were upon them. But\nthey must have known also that that narrow beach would not suffice to\ncontain one in ten of those", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "with great caution. Watching\nthe Martians with our telescopes we could clearly see that they were\ndisconcerted by the scattered order of our attack. Even if all of their\nengines of war had been in proper condition for use it would have been\nimpossible for them to meet the simultaneous assault of so many enemies\ndropping down upon them from the sky.\n\nBut they were made of fighting metal, as we knew from old experience. It\nwas no question of surrender. They did not know how to surrender, and we\ndid not know how to demand a surrender. Besides,", "ened its power to shatter apart the atoms of the resisting\nsubstance. The disintegrators were like firearms, in that after each\ndischarge they must be readjusted before they could be used again.\n\n\nThe Martians Are Desperate.\n\nThrough the breach we saw the Martians inside making desperate efforts\nto train their engine upon us, for after their first disastrous stroke\nwe had rapidly shifted our position. Swiftly the polished knob, which\ngleamed like an evil eye, moved round to sweep over us. Instinctively,\nthough", "\nthe party.\n\nBut help came from a quarter which was unexpected to us, although it\nshould not have been so. Several of the electric ships had been hovering\nabove us during the fight, their commanders being apparently uncertain\nhow to act--fearful, perhaps, of injuring us in the attempt to smite\nour enemy.\n\nBut now the situation apparently lightened for them. They saw that we\nwere at an immense disadvantage, and several of them immediately turned\ntheir batteries upon the car of the Martians.\n\nThey riddled it far more quickly and", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it" ], [ "\n\"But, as you all know, the first feeling of relief which followed the\ndeath of our foes was quickly succeeded by the fearful news which came to\nus from the observatories, that the Martians were undoubtedly preparing\nfor a second invasion of our planet. Against this we should have had no\nrecourse and no hope but for the genius of one of my countrymen, who,\nas you are all aware, has perfected means which may enable us not only\nto withstand the attack of those awful enemies, but to meet them, and,\nlet us hope, to", "leader, and then hurried back to their projectile and disappeared\nwithin it.\n\n\"Now we've got business on our hands,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Look out for\nyourselves.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I saw the death-dealing knob of the war engine contained\nin the car of the Martians moving around toward us. In another instant\nit would have launched its destroying bolt.\n\nBefore that could occur, however, it had been dissipated into space by\na vibratory stream from a disintegrator.\n\nBut we were not to", "\nannounced that after the meeting had adjourned an exhibition of the\nflying powers of the ship would be given in the open air.\n\nThese experiments, together with the accompanying explanations, added\nto what had already been disseminated through the public press, were\nquite sufficient to convince all the representatives who had assembled\nin Washington that the problem of how to conquer the Martians had\nbeen solved. The means were plainly at hand. It only remained to apply\nthem. For this purpose, as the President had pointed out, it would be\nnecessary to raise a very large", "at a distance of perhaps three hundred feet from the point where\nthey touched the asteroid. Instantly a dozen of the giants sprang from\nthe car and gazed about for a moment with a look of intense surprise. At\nfirst it was doubtful whether they meant to attack us at all.\n\nWe stood on our guard, several carrying disintegrators in our hands,\nwhile a score more of these terrible engines were turned upon the Martians\nfrom the electrical ships which hovered near.\n\n\nA Speech from Their Leader.\n\nSuddenly he who seemed to be the leader of", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "ators pointed upon the crowd like the muzzles\nof a cruiser's guns.\n\nAnd now the Martians saw that the contest was hopeless for them, and\ntheir mad struggle to get out of the range of the disintegrators and\nto escape from the death chamber was more appalling to look upon than\nanything that had yet occurred.\n\nIt was a panic of giants. They trod one another under foot; they yelled\nand screamed in their terror; they tore each other with their clawlike\nfingers. They no longer thought of resistance. The battle", "irons as being\nthe very focus of the planet. While it might also be a strong point\nof defence, yet an effective blow struck there would go to the enemy's\nheart and be more likely to bring the Martians promptly to terms than\nanything else.\n\nThe first thing, then, was to locate the Lake of the Sun on the\nsmoke-hidden surface of the planet beneath us. This was a problem that\nthe astronomers could readily solve.\n\nFortunately, in the flagship itself there was one of the star-gazing\ngentlemen who had", "en developed in the proper way the knowledge of nature's laws came to\nthem without effort, as a spring bubbles from the rocks.\n\nOne word of explanation may be needed concerning the failure of the\nMartians, with all their marvellous powers, to invent electrical ships\nlike those of Mr. Edison and engines of destruction comparable with our\ndisintegrators. This failure was simply due to the fact that on Mars\nthere did not exist the peculiar metals by the combination of which\nMr. Edison had been able to effect his wonders. The theory involved in\nour", "\ntaken every precaution against a surprise. Accordingly, before following\nthe Martian into the palace, we had twenty of the electrical ships moored\naround it in such a position that they commanded not only the entrance\nbut all of the principal windows, and then a party of forty picked men,\neach doubly armed with powerful disintegrators, were selected to attend\nus into the building. This party was placed under the command of Colonel\nSmith, and Sidney Phillips insisted on being a member of it.\n\n\nA Nearer Sight of the Martians.\n\nIn the meantime", "represented the flower of the earth,\nthe culmination of the genius of the planet. The greatest leaders\nin science, both theoretical and practical, were there. It was the\nevolution of the earth against the evolution of Mars. It was a planet in\nthe heyday of its strength matched against an aged and decrepit world\nwhich, nevertheless, in consequence of its long ages of existence,\nhad acquired an experience which made it a most dangerous foe. On both\nsides there was desperation. The earth was desperate because it foresaw\ndestruction unless it could first destroy its enemy. Mars", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "with great caution. Watching\nthe Martians with our telescopes we could clearly see that they were\ndisconcerted by the scattered order of our attack. Even if all of their\nengines of war had been in proper condition for use it would have been\nimpossible for them to meet the simultaneous assault of so many enemies\ndropping down upon them from the sky.\n\nBut they were made of fighting metal, as we knew from old experience. It\nwas no question of surrender. They did not know how to surrender, and we\ndid not know how to demand a surrender. Besides,", "could not be long now before we should ascertain, by the\nirrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed\nthe power to annihilate us or not.\n\nHow shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread beneath\nus? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of new\nlands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had discovered,\nand it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.\n\nBut that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.\n\nWe were to make war", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "\n\nBut several of us, with Mr. Edison, stood fast, watching\nfor an opportunity to get the Martians within range of the\ndisintegrators. Luckily we were enabled, by shifting our position a\nlittle to the left, to get out of the line of sight of our enemies\nconcealed in the car.\n\n\"If we cannot catch sight of them,\" said Mr. Edison, \"we shall have to\nriddle the car on the chance of hitting them.\"\n\n\"It will be like firing into a bush to kill a hidden bear,\" said one of", "\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nThis enthusiasm would have had but little justification had Mr. Edison\ndone nothing more than invent a machine which could navigate the\natmosphere and the regions of interplanetary space.\n\nHe had, however, and this fact was generally known, although the details\nhad not yet leaked out--invented also machines of war intended to meet\nthe utmost that the Martians could do for either offence or defence in\nthe struggle which was now about to ensue.\n\n\nA Wonderful Instrument.\n\nActing upon the", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood" ], [ "\n\nBut several of us, with Mr. Edison, stood fast, watching\nfor an opportunity to get the Martians within range of the\ndisintegrators. Luckily we were enabled, by shifting our position a\nlittle to the left, to get out of the line of sight of our enemies\nconcealed in the car.\n\n\"If we cannot catch sight of them,\" said Mr. Edison, \"we shall have to\nriddle the car on the chance of hitting them.\"\n\n\"It will be like firing into a bush to kill a hidden bear,\" said one of", "\n\"Hurrah!\" cried one of the onlookers. \"We have met the Martians and\nthey are ours.\"\n\nSuch in brief was the first of the contrivances which Mr. Edison invented\nfor the approaching war with Mars.\n\nAnd these facts had become widely known. Additional experiments had\ncompleted the demonstration of the inventor's ability, with the aid of\nhis wonderful instrument, to destroy any given object, or any part of\nan object, provided that that part differed in its atomic constitution,\nand consequently in its vibratory period, from the", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "\n\n\nChapter II.\n\n\nThis enthusiasm would have had but little justification had Mr. Edison\ndone nothing more than invent a machine which could navigate the\natmosphere and the regions of interplanetary space.\n\nHe had, however, and this fact was generally known, although the details\nhad not yet leaked out--invented also machines of war intended to meet\nthe utmost that the Martians could do for either offence or defence in\nthe struggle which was now about to ensue.\n\n\nA Wonderful Instrument.\n\nActing upon the", "preceded it.\n\nThere had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means employed\nby the two parties in the struggle on the earth.\n\nBut the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our enemies\nin regard to fighting capacity.\n\nThen, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their purpose\nthan the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the principle\nupon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it seemed\nastonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.\n\nMr. Edison himself was never tired", "leader, and then hurried back to their projectile and disappeared\nwithin it.\n\n\"Now we've got business on our hands,\" said Mr. Edison. \"Look out for\nyourselves.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I saw the death-dealing knob of the war engine contained\nin the car of the Martians moving around toward us. In another instant\nit would have launched its destroying bolt.\n\nBefore that could occur, however, it had been dissipated into space by\na vibratory stream from a disintegrator.\n\nBut we were not to", "ators\nof mysterious destructive forces that the Martians had produced, with\nthe object of discovering, if possible, the sources of their power.\n\nSuddenly from Mr. Edison's laboratory at Orange flashed the startling\nintelligence that he had not only discovered the manner in which the\ninvaders had been able to produce the mighty energies which they employed\nwith such terrible effect, but that, going further, he had found a way\nto overcome them.\n\nThe glad news was quickly circulated throughout the civilized\nworld. Luckily the Atlantic cables had not been", "of\nthe range of our guns, they had hung safe in the upper air. From the\nclouds they had dropped death upon the earth.\n\n\nEdison's Flying Machine.\n\nNow, rumor declared that Mr. Edison had invented and perfected a flying\nmachine much more complete and manageable than those of the Martians\nhad been. Wonderful stories quickly found their way into the newspapers\nconcerning what Mr. Edison had already accomplished with the aid of his\nmodel electrical balloon. His laboratory was carefully guarded against\nthe invasion of the curious,", "almost joyous cry. \"We shall be ready for\nthem now. The Americans have solved the problem. Edison has placed\nthe means of victory within our power.\"\n\nLooking back upon that time now, I recall, with a thrill, the pride that\nstirred me at the thought that, after all, the inhabitants of the Earth\nwere a match for those terrible men from Mars, despite all the advantage\nwhich they had gained from their millions of years of prior civilization\nand science.\n\nAs good fortunes, like bad, never come singly, the news of Mr.", "their preparations to finish us?\"\n\nUpon the suggestion of the President of the United States, an executive\ncommittee, representing all the principal nations, was appointed, and\nwithout delay a meeting of this committee was assembled at the White\nHouse. Mr. Edison was summoned before it, and asked to sketch briefly\nthe plan upon which he proposed to work.\n\n\nThousands of Men for Mars.\n\nI need not enter into the details of what was done at this meeting. Let it\nsuffice to say that when it broke up, in the small hours of the", "had no doubt that if we could not resist\ntheir effects we might at least be able to avoid them by the rapidity of\nour motions. As he pointed out, the war machines which the Martians had\nemployed in their invasion of the earth, were really very awkward and\nunmanageable affairs. Mr. Edison's electrical ships, on the other hand,\nwere marvels of speed and of manageability. They could dart about, turn,\nreverse their course, rise, fall, with the quickness and ease of a fish\nin the water. Mr. Edis", "get the victory quite so easily. There was another\nof the war engines in the car, and before we could concentrate our fire\nupon it, its awful flash shot forth, and a dozen of our comrades perished\nbefore our eyes.\n\n\"Quick! Quick!\" shouted Mr. Edison to one of his electrical experts\nstanding near. \"There is something the matter with this disintegrator,\nand I cannot make it work. Aim at the knob, and don't miss it.\"\n\n\nMartians and Terrestrians Fight a Terrible Battle.\n\nBut", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier", "the\nexpedition. Mr. Edison, however, had confided to me before we left\nthe earth the fact that he had invented a little instrument by means of\nwhich a bubble, strongly charged with a powerful anaesthetic agent, could\nbe driven to a considerable distance into the face of an enemy, where,\nexploding without other damage, it would instantly put him to sleep.\n\nWhen Tom had placed the instrument in his hands Mr. Edison ordered the\nelectrical ship to forge slightly ahead and drop a little lower toward\nthe Martian, who, with watchful", "\nThe Battle Commences.\n\nThe signal was given, and the circle of electrical ships closed in upon\nthe asteroid.\n\nIn the meantime Mr. Edison had been donning his air-tight suit. Before\nwe could clearly comprehend his intention he had passed through the\ndouble-trapped door which gave access to the exterior of the car without\npermitting the loss of air, and was standing upon what served as the\ndeck of the ship.\n\nIn his hand he carried a disintegrator. With a quick motion he sighted it.\n\nAs quickly as possible I", "?\" said Mr. Edison. \"We must look out for\nthat. Whenever you see one of the airships beginning to stick its nose\nup after that fashion blaze away at it.\"\n\nAn order to this effect was transmitted throughout the squadron. At the\nsame time several of the most powerful disintegrators were directed upon\nthe ship which had executed the stratagem and, reduced to a wreck, it\ndropped, whirling like a broken kite until it fell into the flood beneath.\n\n\nA Thousand Martian Ships.\n\nStill the Martians'", ",\nand seeing what we were about, at once said:\n\n\"I must provide against this danger. If I do not, there is a chance that\nwe shall arrive at Mars with the ships half empty and the crews floating\nhelplessly around us.\"\n\n\nEdison Always Prepared.\n\nMr. Edison's way of guarding against the danger was by contriving a\nlittle apparatus, modeled after that which was the governing force of the\nelectrical ships themselves, and which, being enclosed in the air-tight\nsuits, enabled their", "if he could once get us within\nhis clutches.\n\nMr. Edison and I still stood upon the deck of the ship, where several\nothers had gathered around us. The atmosphere of the little asteroid\nwas so rare that it practically amounted to nothing, and we could not\npossibly have survived if we had not continued to wear our air-tight\nsuits. How the Martians contrived to live here was a mystery to us. It\nwas another of their secrets which we were yet to learn.\n\nMr. Edison retained his disintegrator in his hand" ], [ "news from the ships which had been sent to\nreconnoitre, continued the exploration of the little planet.\n\nAt a point nearly opposite to that where we had landed we came upon\nthe mine which the Martians had been working. They had removed the thin\ncoating of soil, laying bare the rich stores of gold beneath, and large\nquantities of the latter had been removed. Some of it was so solidly\npacked that the strokes of the instruments by means of which they had\ndetached it were visible like the streaks left by a knife cutting cheese.\n\n\nReason for A", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "\n\"How are we going to dig it and get it back to earth?\" asked another.\n\n\"Carry it in your pockets,\" said one.\n\n\"No need of staking claims here,\" remarked another. \"There is enough\nfor everybody.\"\n\nMr. Edison suddenly turned the current of talk.\n\n\"What do you suppose those Martians were doing here?\"\n\n\"Why, they were wrecked here.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"According to your own showing they\ncould not have been wrecked here. This planet", "their car, the direction of\nwhich is carefully calculated, will carry them back again to Mars.\"\n\n\"If that's so,\" exclaimed a voice, \"we had better look out for\nourselves! We have got into a very hornet's nest! If this is the place\nwhere the Martians come to dig gold, and if this is the height of\ntheir season, as you say, they are not likely to leave us here long\nundisturbed.\"\n\n\"These fellows must have been pirates that they had the fight with,\"\nsaid another.\n\n", "their conquest of our world.\"\n\nAt this point in the story the Heidelberg Professor again broke in,\nfairly trembling with excitement:\n\n\nThe Wonders of the Martians!\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen,\" he cried, \"is it that you do not understand? This\nLand of Sand and of a wonderful fertilizing river--what can it\nbe? Gentlemen, it is Egypt! These mountains of rock that the Martians\nhave erected, what are they? Gentlemen, they are the great mystery of the\nland of the", ". It is perfectly plain to me that they have been disabled\nin a battle. The Martians must have been fighting among themselves.\"\n\n\nA Martian Civil War!\n\n\"About the gold!\" exclaimed one.\n\n\"Of course. What else was there to fight about?\"\n\nAt this instant one of our men came running from a considerable distance,\nwaving his arms excitedly, but unable to give voice to his story, in the\ninappreciable atmosphere of the asteroid, until he had come up and made\ntelephonic connection with us.\n\n\"There is a", "they come to get their wealth.\"\n\n\"And this,\" I said, \"must be their harvest time. You notice that this\nasteroid, being several million miles nearer to the sun than Mars is,\nmust have an appreciably shorter period of revolution. When it is in\nconjunction with Mars, or nearly so, as it is at present, the distance\nbetween the two is not very great, whereas when it is in the opposite\npart of its orbit they are separated by an enormous gap of space and\nthe sun is between them.\"\n\n\"Manifestly in the latter case it would be", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "perilous if not entirely\nimpossible for the Martians to visit the golden asteroid, but when it\nis near Mars, as it is at present, and as it must be periodically for\nseveral years at a time, then is their opportunity.\"\n\n\"With their projectile cars sent forth with the aid of the mysterious\nexplosives which they possess, it is easy for them under such\ncircumstances, to make visits to the asteroid.\"\n\n\"Having obtained all the gold they need, or all that they can carry,\na comparatively slight impulse given to", "the days\nof our forefathers, in the Land of Sand, a pestilence smote them, and\nbut few survivors escaped.\"\n\n\"Not long after that, you, with your mysterious ships, appeared in the\nsky of Mars. Our masters studied you with their telescopes, and those\nwho had returned from the unfortunate expedition declared that you\nwere inhabitants of the world which they had invaded, come, doubtless,\nto take vengeance upon them.\"\n\n\"Some of my people who were permitted to look through the telescopes of\nthe Martians, saw you", "the Martians began to speak\nto them in pantomime, using his fingers after the manner in which they\nare used for conversation by deaf and dumb people.\n\nOf course, we did not know what he was saying, but his meaning became\nperfectly evident a minute later. Clearly they did not comprehend\nthe powers of the insignificant-looking strangers with whom they had\nto deal. Instead of turning their destructive engines upon us, they\nadvanced on a run, with the evident purpose of making us prisoners or\ncrushing us by main force.\n\n\nAwed", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "Everywhere the cry now became, \"Let us make\nhaste! Let us get ready at once! Who knows but the Martians have already\nembarked, and are now on their way to destroy us?\"\n\nUnder the impulse of this new feeling, which, it must be admitted,\nwas very largely inspired by terror, the vast ballroom was quickly\ndeserted. The lights were suddenly put out in the great dome of balloons,\nfor someone had whispered:\n\n\"Suppose they should see that from Mars? Would they not guess what we\nwere about, and redouble", "Great Sphinx and the\nPyramids.\n\nI shall never forget one occasion, when, lying flat on the ground,\nand cautiously worming our way around on the side toward Mars, we had\njust begun to observe it with our telescopes, when I perceived, against\nthe vast curtain of smoke, a small, glinting object, which I instantly\nsuspected to be an airship.\n\nI called Mr. Edison's attention to it, and we both agreed that it was,\nundoubtedly, one of the Martians' aerial vessels,", "which appeared to be almost flawless,\nvaried in size from the dimensions of a hazelnut to geometrical solids\nseveral inches in diameter. We carefully selected as many as it was\nconvenient to carry and placed them in the car for future examination. We\nhad solved another long standing lunar problem and had, perhaps, opened\nup an inexhaustible mine of wealth which might eventually go far toward\nreimbursing the earth for the damage which it had suffered from the\ninvasion of the Martians.\n\nOn returning to Cape Heraclides we found that the", "could not be long now before we should ascertain, by the\nirrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed\nthe power to annihilate us or not.\n\nHow shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread beneath\nus? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of new\nlands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had discovered,\nand it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.\n\nBut that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.\n\nWe were to make war", "the Martians to Be Foes Worth Fearing.\n\nThe eyes of man had never beheld such a spectacle!\n\nWhere a few minutes before the sunny face of a beautiful and populous\nplanet had been shining beneath us, there was now to be seen nothing but\nblack, billowing clouds, swelling up everywhere like the mouse-colored\nsmoke that pours from a great transatlantic liner when fresh coal has\njust been heaped upon her fires.\n\nIn some places the smoke spouted upward in huge jets to the height of\nseveral", "lies below the level\nof the oceans. In order at the same time to irrigate the soil and make it\nfruitful, and to protect themselves from overflows by the ocean breaking\nin upon them, the Martians have constructed the immense and innumerable\ncanals which you see running in all directions over the continents.\"\n\n\"There is one period in the year, and that period has now arrived, when\nthere is special danger of a great deluge. Most of the oceans of Mars\nlie in the southern hemisphere. When it is Summer in that hemis", "formed globe not more than five miles in diameter.\n\n\"What is that upon it?\" asked Lord Kelvin, squinting intently at the\nlittle world through his glass. \"As I live, it moves.\"\n\n\nA Martian Appears!\n\nThe First Glimpse of the Horrible Inhabitants of the Red Planet.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" exclaimed several others, \"there are inhabitants upon it,\nbut what giants!\"\n\n\"What monsters!\"\n\n\"Don't you see?\" exclaimed an excited savant. \"They are" ], [ "while among us.\n\nThe circumstances under which we had found her were quickly explained. Her\nbeauty, her strange fate and the impenetrable mystery which surrounded\nher excited universal admiration and wonder.\n\n\nHow Came She on Mars?\n\n\"How did she get on Mars?\" was the question that everybody asked, and\nthat nobody could answer.\n\nBut while all were crowding around and overwhelming the poor girl with\ntheir staring, suddenly she burst into tears, and then, with arms\noutstretched in the same appealing manner which had so stirred our\nsympath", "\n\nA girl of my own race: a human being here upon the planet Mars!\n\nHer hair was loosely coiled and she was attired in graceful white drapery.\n\n\"By ----!\" cried Colonel Smith, \"she's human!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XII.\n\n\nStill the bewildering strains of the music came to our ears, and yet we\nstood there unperceived, though in the full glare of the chandelier.\n\nThe girl's face was presented in profile. It was exquisite in beauty,", "Prisoner.\n\nEstablishing the Identity of the Martians' Captive.\n\nOn this second trip to the mysterious house we had discovered another\napartment containing a very large number of the metallic boxes, filled\nwith compressed food.\n\n\"By Jove, it is a store house,\" said Colonel Smith. \"We must get more\nforce and carry it all off. Gracious, but this is a lucky night. We can\nreprovision the whole fleet from this room.\"\n\n\"I thought it singular,\" I said, \"that with the exception of the girl\nwh", "also, and recognized you as members of their own\nrace. There were several thousand of us, altogether, and we were kept by\nthe Martians to serve them as slaves, and particularly to delight their\nears with music, for our people have always been especially skilful in\nthe playing of musical instruments, and in songs, and while the Martians\nhave but little musical skill themselves, they are exceedingly fond of\nthese things.\"\n\n\nAwaiting a Rescue.\n\n\"Although Mars had completed not less than five thousand circuits about\nthe sun since our ancestors were", ",\" broke in Mr. Edison, \"do not help you\nmuch. Why not begin in a practical manner by finding out what the Martian\ncalls himself, for instance.\"\n\nThis seemed a good suggestion, and accordingly several of the bystanders\nbegan an expressive pantomime, intended to indicate to the giant, who was\nfollowing all their motions with his eyes, that they wished to know by\nwhat name he called himself. Pointing their fingers to their own breasts\nthey repeated, one after the other, the word \"man.\"\n\nIf our prisoner had been", "Martian had perished, by a vengeful stroke\nlaunched from his native globe.\n\nBut Providence had placed in our hands a far better interpreter than he\ncould ever have been. This girl of our own race would need no urging,\nor coercion, on our part in order to induce her to reveal any secrets\nof the Martians that might be useful in our further proceedings.\n\nBut one thing was first necessary to be done.\n\nWe must learn to talk with her.\n\n\nLearning Her Language.\n\nBut for the discovery of the store", "his language,\nand considerable progress had been effected in that direction.\n\nBut from the moment of our arrival at Mars itself, and especially after\nthe battles began, the prisoner had resumed his savage and uncommunicative\ndisposition, and had seemed continually to be expecting that we would\nfall victims to the prowess of his fellow beings, and that he would\nbe released. How an outlaw, such as he evidently was, who had been\ncaught in the act of robbing the Martian gold mines, could expect to\nescape punishment on returning to his native planet it was difficult", "the order went forth\nthat we should all be butchered, and that awful command was executed!\"\n\n\"How, then, did you escape?\" asked the Heidelberg Professor.\n\nAina seemed unable to speak for a while. Finally mastering her emotion,\nshe replied:\n\n\nHer Fortunate Escape.\n\n\"One of the chief officers of the Martians wished me to remain alive. He,\nwith his aides, carried me to one of the military depot of supplies,\nwhere I was found and rescued,\" and as she said this she turned toward\nColonel", "still about 6,000,000 miles from Mars, so that, travelling three\nmiles in a second, we should require at least twenty-three days to reach\nthe immediate neighborhood of the planet.\n\nMeanwhile we had a plenty of occupation to make the time pass quickly. Our\nprisoner was transported along with us, and we now began our attempts to\nascertain what his language was, and, if possible, to master it ourselves.\n\nBefore quitting the asteroid we had found that it was necessary for\nhim to swallow one of his \"air pills,\"", ".\n\n\nThe Martian's Book.\n\nWith our assistance he pulled out a book!\n\nActually, it was a book, not very unlike the books which we have upon\nthe earth, but printed, of course, in characters that were entirely\nstrange and unknown to us. Yet these characters evidently gave expression\nto a highly intellectual language. All those who were standing by at\nthe moment uttered a shout of wonder and of delight, and the cry of\n\"A book! a book!\" ran around the circle, and the good news was even\npromptly communicated to", "the girl that we had\nscarcely thought of looking to see if there was any one else in the room.\n\nGlancing beyond her, I now perceived sitting in richly decorated chairs\nthree or four gigantic Martians. They were listening to the music as\nif charmed.\n\nThe whole story told itself. This girl, if not their slave, was at any\nrate under their control, and she was furnishing entertainment for them\nby her musical skill. The fact that they could find pleasure in music\nso beautiful was, perhaps, an indication that they were not really as\nsavage", "simply in\npursuance of the method by which he meant to acquire the language of\nthe girl.\n\nThere was one thing which gave some of us considerable misgiving, and\nthat was the question whether, after all, the language the professor was\nacquiring was really the girl's own tongue or one that she had learned\nfrom the Martians.\n\nBut the professor bade us rest easy on that point. He assured us, in the\nfirst place, that this girl could not be the only human being living upon\nMars, but that she must have friends and relatives there", "our\nbeautiful captive was on the lips of all.\n\nAfter that came her story. It was a marvellous narrative. Translated\ninto our tongue it ran as follows:\n\n\"The traditions of my fathers, handed down for generations so many that\nno one can number them, declare that the planet of Mars was not the\nplace of our origin.\"\n\n\"Ages and ages ago our forefathers dwelt on another and distant world\nthat was nearer to the sun than this one is, and enjoyed brighter daylight\nthan we have here.\"\n\n", "Statement.\n\nThis announcement of the Heidelberg professor stirred us all most\nprofoundly. It not only deepened our interest in the beautiful girl\nwhom we had rescued, but, in a dim way, it gave us reason to hope that\nwe should yet discover some means of mastering the Martians by dealing\nthem a blow from within.\n\nIt had been expected, the reader will remember, that the Martian whom we\nhad made prisoner on the asteroid, might be of use to us in a similar way,\nand for that reason great efforts had been made to acquire", ", had named the Vale of Cashmere as the probable site of the\nGarden of Eden, and the place of origin of the human race, but later\ninvestigators had taken issue with this opinion, and the question where\nthe Aryans originated upon the earth had long been one of the most\npuzzling that science presented.\n\nThis question seemed now to have been settled.\n\nAina had said that Mars had completed 5,000 circuits about the sun since\nher people were brought to it as captives. One circuit of Mars occupies\n6", "been acquired by the chief linguists of the expedition before the\ntime when we arrived so near to Mars that it became necessary for most\nof us to abandon our studies in order to make ready for the more serious\nbusiness which now confronted us.\n\nBut, at any rate, the acquisition was so considerable as to allow of\nthe interchange of ordinary ideas with our prisoner, and there was no\nlonger any doubt that he would be able to give us much information when\nwe landed on his native planet.\n\nAt the end of twenty-three days as measured by terrestrial time, since\nour", "earth\nexpects every man of us to do his duty.\"\n\nThis Nelson-like summons again changed the current of our thoughts,\nand we instantly set to work to learn from Aina if Mars, like Achilles,\nhad not some vulnerable point where a blow would be mortal.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIV.\n\n\nIt was a curious scene when the momentous interview which was to\ndetermine our fate and that of Mars began. Aina had been warned of what\nwas coming. We in the flagship had all learned to speak her language with\nmore or less ease,", "the attacks of enemies. Since, as our own experience had\nshown, it sometimes waged war with distant planets, it was but natural\nthat it should be found prepared to resist foes who might be disposed\nto revenge themselves for injuries suffered at its hands.\n\nAs had been expected, our prisoner now proved to be of very great\nassistance to us. Apparently he took a certain pride in exhibiting to\nstrangers from a distant world the beauties and wonders of his own planet.\n\n\nThe Martian Is Understood.\n\nWe could not understand by any means all that he", "five\nstood together in the shadow at the foot of the great tree. The grove\nwas so thick around that while there was an abundance of electric lights\namong the trees, their illumination did not fall upon us where we stood.\n\nPeering cautiously through the vistas in various directions, we\nascertained our location with respect to the wall of the building. Like\nall the structures that we had seen on Mars, it was composed of polished\nred metal.\n\n\nLooking for an Entrance.\n\n\"Where is the entrance?\" inquired Mr. E", "ers to questions which could not be solved at home.\n\nBut from these speculations and retrospects we were recalled by the\ncommander of the expedition.\n\n\nDoes Aina Hold the Secret?\n\n\"This is all very interesting and very romantic, gentlemen,\" he said,\n\"but now let us get at the practical side of it. We have learned Aina's\nlanguage and have heard her story. Let us next ascertain whether\nshe cannot place in our hands some key which will place Mars at our\nmercy. Remember what we came here for, and remember that the" ], [ "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "87 days. More than 9,000 years had therefore elapsed since the first\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians.\n\nAnother great mystery--that of the origin of those gigantic and\ninexplicable monuments, the great pyramids and the Sphinx, on the banks of\nthe Nile, had also apparently been solved by us, although these Egyptian\nwonders had been the furthest things from our thoughts when we set out\nfor the planet Mars.\n\nWe had travelled more than thirty millions of miles in order to get\nansw", "also, and recognized you as members of their own\nrace. There were several thousand of us, altogether, and we were kept by\nthe Martians to serve them as slaves, and particularly to delight their\nears with music, for our people have always been especially skilful in\nthe playing of musical instruments, and in songs, and while the Martians\nhave but little musical skill themselves, they are exceedingly fond of\nthese things.\"\n\n\nAwaiting a Rescue.\n\n\"Although Mars had completed not less than five thousand circuits about\nthe sun since our ancestors were", "the days\nof our forefathers, in the Land of Sand, a pestilence smote them, and\nbut few survivors escaped.\"\n\n\"Not long after that, you, with your mysterious ships, appeared in the\nsky of Mars. Our masters studied you with their telescopes, and those\nwho had returned from the unfortunate expedition declared that you\nwere inhabitants of the world which they had invaded, come, doubtless,\nto take vengeance upon them.\"\n\n\"Some of my people who were permitted to look through the telescopes of\nthe Martians, saw you", "the\nmembers of our race for your reception when, as we believed, would occur,\nyou should effect a landing upon the planet and destroy our enemies.\"\n\n\"But in some manner the fact that we had recognized you, and were\npreparing to welcome you, came to the ears of the Martians.\"\n\nAt this point the girl suddenly covered her eyes with her hands,\nshuddering and falling back in her seat.\n\n\"Oh, you do not know them as I do!\" at length she exclaimed. \"The\nmonsters! Their vengeance was too terrible! Instantly", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "ulums in England and on the\nContinent of Europe.\n\nThe terrible results achieved by the invaders had produced everywhere a\nmingled feeling of consternation and hopelessness. The devastation was\nwidespread. The death-dealing engines which the Martians had brought with\nthem had proved irresistible and the inhabitants of the earth possessed\nnothing capable of contending against them. There had been no protection\nfor the great cities; no protection even for the open country. Everything\nhad gone down before the savage onslaught of those merciless invaders from\n", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "one,\nas far as we could see, was still in a proper condition for use.\n\nHow had these creatures got there?\n\n\"Why, that is easy enough to account for,\" I said, as a sudden\nrecollection flashed into my mind. \"Don't you remember the report of\nthe astronomers more than six months ago, at the end of the conference\nin Washington, that something would seem to indicate the departure of a\nnew expedition from Mars had been noticed by them? We have heard nothing\nof that expedition since. We know that it did not reach the earth. It\n", "their conquest of our world.\"\n\nAt this point in the story the Heidelberg Professor again broke in,\nfairly trembling with excitement:\n\n\nThe Wonders of the Martians!\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen,\" he cried, \"is it that you do not understand? This\nLand of Sand and of a wonderful fertilizing river--what can it\nbe? Gentlemen, it is Egypt! These mountains of rock that the Martians\nhave erected, what are they? Gentlemen, they are the great mystery of the\nland of the", "the surface of the planet, convinced us that all we now had to do in\norder to complete our conquest was to get possession of the person of\nthe chief ruler.\n\nThe fleet was, accordingly, concentrated, and we rapidly approached the\ngreat Martian palace. As we came down within a hundred feet of them and\nboldly made our way among their airships, which retreated at our approach,\nthe Martians gazed at us with mingled fear and astonishment.\n\nWe were their conquerors and they knew it. We were coming to demand their\nsurrender,", ". That\nmonster was more directly responsible than any other inhabitant of Mars\nfor all the wickedness of which they have been guilty.\"\n\n\"The expedition against the earth was inspired solely by him. There is\na tradition among the Martians--which my people, however, could never\ncredit--that he possessed a kind of immortality. They declared that it\nwas he who led the former expedition against the earth when my ancestors\nwere brought away prisoners from their happy home, and that it was his\nimage which they had set up in stone in the midst of the Land of Sand. He", "could not be long now before we should ascertain, by the\nirrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed\nthe power to annihilate us or not.\n\nHow shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread beneath\nus? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of new\nlands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had discovered,\nand it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.\n\nBut that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.\n\nWe were to make war", "that would fit the facts before us. Certainly the\nMartian could not breathe where there was practically no air, yet just\nas certainly after he had swallowed his pill he seemed as comfortable\nas any of us.\n\n\nSignals from a Ship.\n\nSuddenly, while we were gathered around the prisoner, and interested\nin this fresh evidence of the wonderful ingenuity of the Martians, and\nof their control over the processes of nature, one of the electrical\nships that had been sent off in the direction of Mars was seen rapidly\nreturning and displaying signals.\n\n\nThe", "\n\"But, as you all know, the first feeling of relief which followed the\ndeath of our foes was quickly succeeded by the fearful news which came to\nus from the observatories, that the Martians were undoubtedly preparing\nfor a second invasion of our planet. Against this we should have had no\nrecourse and no hope but for the genius of one of my countrymen, who,\nas you are all aware, has perfected means which may enable us not only\nto withstand the attack of those awful enemies, but to meet them, and,\nlet us hope, to", ", with more than one-quarter of them\nsimultaneously. In the meantime the others would have surrounded and\nmight have destroyed us. We must first get some idea of the planet's\nmeans of defence before we ventured to assail it.\n\nHaving risen rapidly to a height of twenty-five or thirty miles, so that\nwe could feel confident that our ships had vanished at least from the\nnaked eye view of our enemies beneath, a brief consultation was held.\n\nIt was determined to adhere to our original programme and to\ncircumnavigate Mars in every", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "Everywhere the cry now became, \"Let us make\nhaste! Let us get ready at once! Who knows but the Martians have already\nembarked, and are now on their way to destroy us?\"\n\nUnder the impulse of this new feeling, which, it must be admitted,\nwas very largely inspired by terror, the vast ballroom was quickly\ndeserted. The lights were suddenly put out in the great dome of balloons,\nfor someone had whispered:\n\n\"Suppose they should see that from Mars? Would they not guess what we\nwere about, and redouble", "owlingly at her as we drew near. Apparently,\nthe bitterness of feeling which had led to the awful massacre of all her\nrace had not yet vanished. And, indeed, since the fact that she remained\nalive could have been known only to the Martian who had abducted her and\nto his immediate companions, her reappearance with us must have been a\ngreat surprise to all those who now looked upon her.\n\n\nThe Enemy Vanquished.\n\nThe Martians Succumb at Last, and Are at Our Mercy.\n\nIt was", "astonishment\nand the disappointment of the inhabitants of the earth when, within a\nfortnight from our departure, they saw us back again, with no laurels\nof victory crowning our brows.\n\nAt first they had hoped that we were returning in triumph, and we were\noverwhelmed with questions the moment we had dropped within speaking\ndistance.\n\n\"Have you whipped them?\"\n\n\"How many are lost?\"\n\n\"Is there any more danger?\"\n\n\"Faix, have ye got one of thim men from Mars?\"\n\nBut their rejoicings and their" ], [ "the days\nof our forefathers, in the Land of Sand, a pestilence smote them, and\nbut few survivors escaped.\"\n\n\"Not long after that, you, with your mysterious ships, appeared in the\nsky of Mars. Our masters studied you with their telescopes, and those\nwho had returned from the unfortunate expedition declared that you\nwere inhabitants of the world which they had invaded, come, doubtless,\nto take vengeance upon them.\"\n\n\"Some of my people who were permitted to look through the telescopes of\nthe Martians, saw you", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "their conquest of our world.\"\n\nAt this point in the story the Heidelberg Professor again broke in,\nfairly trembling with excitement:\n\n\nThe Wonders of the Martians!\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen,\" he cried, \"is it that you do not understand? This\nLand of Sand and of a wonderful fertilizing river--what can it\nbe? Gentlemen, it is Egypt! These mountains of rock that the Martians\nhave erected, what are they? Gentlemen, they are the great mystery of the\nland of the", "87 days. More than 9,000 years had therefore elapsed since the first\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians.\n\nAnother great mystery--that of the origin of those gigantic and\ninexplicable monuments, the great pyramids and the Sphinx, on the banks of\nthe Nile, had also apparently been solved by us, although these Egyptian\nwonders had been the furthest things from our thoughts when we set out\nfor the planet Mars.\n\nWe had travelled more than thirty millions of miles in order to get\nansw", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "And in this Land of Sand, it is said, they did many wonderful works.\"\n\n\"They had been astonished at the sight of the great mountains which\nsurrounded our valley, for on Mars there are no mountains, and after\nthey came into the Land of Sand they built there with huge blocks of\nstone mountains in imitation of what they had seen, and used them for\npurposes that our people did not understand.\"\n\n\"Then, too, it is said they left there at the foot of these mountains\nthat they had made a gigantic image of the great chief who led them in\n", ". That\nmonster was more directly responsible than any other inhabitant of Mars\nfor all the wickedness of which they have been guilty.\"\n\n\"The expedition against the earth was inspired solely by him. There is\na tradition among the Martians--which my people, however, could never\ncredit--that he possessed a kind of immortality. They declared that it\nwas he who led the former expedition against the earth when my ancestors\nwere brought away prisoners from their happy home, and that it was his\nimage which they had set up in stone in the midst of the Land of Sand. He", "could not be long now before we should ascertain, by the\nirrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed\nthe power to annihilate us or not.\n\nHow shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread beneath\nus? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of new\nlands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had discovered,\nand it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.\n\nBut that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.\n\nWe were to make war", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "of Colonel Smith, who had so frequently stalked Indians that\ndevices of this kind readily occurred to his mind, the sentinels all\nwore garments corresponding in color to that of the soil of the asteroid,\nwhich was of a dark, reddish brown hue. This would tend to conceal them\nfrom the prying eyes of the Martians.\n\nThe commander himself frequently went around the edge of the planet in\norder to take a look at Mars, and I often accompanied him.\n\n\nMarvellous Discoveries.\n\nThe Martians Were the Builders of the", "and were about to return with us to the earth.\n\nIt seemed to some of us almost heartless to deprive the Martians who\nstill remained alive of any of the provisions which they themselves\nwould require to tide them over the long period which must elapse before\nthe recession of the flood should enable them to discover the sites of\ntheir ruined homes, and to find the means of sustenance. But necessity\nwas now our only law. We learned from Aina that there must be stores\nof provisions in the neighborhood of the palace, because it was the\ncustom of the Martians", "ulums in England and on the\nContinent of Europe.\n\nThe terrible results achieved by the invaders had produced everywhere a\nmingled feeling of consternation and hopelessness. The devastation was\nwidespread. The death-dealing engines which the Martians had brought with\nthem had proved irresistible and the inhabitants of the earth possessed\nnothing capable of contending against them. There had been no protection\nfor the great cities; no protection even for the open country. Everything\nhad gone down before the savage onslaught of those merciless invaders from\n", "lot of dead Martians over there,\" he said. \"They've been\ncleaning one another out.\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"I knew it when I saw the condition of\nthose machines.\"\n\n\"Then this is not a wrecked expedition, directed against the earth?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"This must be the great gold mine of Mars,\" said the president of\nan Australian mining company, opening both his eyes and his mouth as\nhe spoke.\n\n\"Yes, evidently that's it. Here's where", "\n\"How are we going to dig it and get it back to earth?\" asked another.\n\n\"Carry it in your pockets,\" said one.\n\n\"No need of staking claims here,\" remarked another. \"There is enough\nfor everybody.\"\n\nMr. Edison suddenly turned the current of talk.\n\n\"What do you suppose those Martians were doing here?\"\n\n\"Why, they were wrecked here.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"According to your own showing they\ncould not have been wrecked here. This planet", "Great Sphinx and the\nPyramids.\n\nI shall never forget one occasion, when, lying flat on the ground,\nand cautiously worming our way around on the side toward Mars, we had\njust begun to observe it with our telescopes, when I perceived, against\nthe vast curtain of smoke, a small, glinting object, which I instantly\nsuspected to be an airship.\n\nI called Mr. Edison's attention to it, and we both agreed that it was,\nundoubtedly, one of the Martians' aerial vessels,", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "the Martians!\"\n\nThe startling truth burst upon the minds of all. Here upon this little\nplanetoid were several of the gigantic inhabitants of the world that we\nwere going to attack. There was more than one man in the flagship who\nrecognized them well, and who shuddered at the recognition, instinctively\nrecalling the recent terrible experience of the earth.\n\nWas this an outpost of the warlike Mars?\n\nAround these monstrous enemies we saw several of their engines of\nwar. Some of these appeared to have been wrecked, but at least", "one,\nas far as we could see, was still in a proper condition for use.\n\nHow had these creatures got there?\n\n\"Why, that is easy enough to account for,\" I said, as a sudden\nrecollection flashed into my mind. \"Don't you remember the report of\nthe astronomers more than six months ago, at the end of the conference\nin Washington, that something would seem to indicate the departure of a\nnew expedition from Mars had been noticed by them? We have heard nothing\nof that expedition since. We know that it did not reach the earth. It\n", "architects were\nbusily at work planning new twenty-story hotels and apartment houses;\nnew churches and new cathedrals on a grander scale than before.\n\n\nThe Martians Returning.\n\nAmid this stir of renewed life came the fatal news that Mars was\nundoubtedly preparing to deal us a death blow. The sudden revulsion of\nfeeling flitted like the shadow of an eclipse over the earth. The scenes\nthat followed were indescribable. Men lost their reason. The faint-hearted\nended the suspense with self-destruction, the stout", "Everywhere the cry now became, \"Let us make\nhaste! Let us get ready at once! Who knows but the Martians have already\nembarked, and are now on their way to destroy us?\"\n\nUnder the impulse of this new feeling, which, it must be admitted,\nwas very largely inspired by terror, the vast ballroom was quickly\ndeserted. The lights were suddenly put out in the great dome of balloons,\nfor someone had whispered:\n\n\"Suppose they should see that from Mars? Would they not guess what we\nwere about, and redouble" ], [ "iluvian\nmonsters collected around their prey. Their disappointment over the\nfact that no other marks of anything resembling human habitation could\nbe discovered was very great.\n\nStill this footprint in itself was quite sufficient, as they all declared,\nto settle the question of the former inhabitation of the moon, and it\nwould serve for the production of many a learned volume after their\nreturn to the earth, even if no further discoveries should be made in\nother parts of the lunar world.\n\n\nExpeditions Over the Moon.\n\nIt was the hope of making", "level plain remarkably\nsmooth over most of its surface, unmistakable evidences of former\ninhabitation. A gigantic city had evidently at one time existed near\nthe centre of this great plain. The outlines of its walls and the\nfoundation marks of some of its immense buildings were plainly made out,\nand elaborate plans of this vanished capital of the moon were prepared\nby several members of the party.\n\n\nMore Evidences of Habitation.\n\nOne of them was fortunate enough to discover an even more precious\nrelic of the ancient lunarians. It was", ".\n\nWhile the repairs were being made several scientific expeditions were\nsent out in various directions across the moon. One went westward to\ninvestigate the great ring plain of Plato, and the lunar Alps. Another\ncrossed the ancient Sea of Showers toward the lunar Apennines.\n\nOne started to explore the immense crater of Copernicus, which, yawning\nfifty miles across, presents a wonderful appearance even from the distance\nof the earth. The ship in which I, myself, had the good fortune to embark,\nwas bound for the mysterious lun", "\n\nHere and there curious lights glowed upon the mysterious surface of the\nmoon. Where the edge of the moon cut the sky behind it, it was broken and\njagged with mountain masses. Vast crater rings overspread its surface,\nand in some of these I imagined I could perceive a lurid illumination\ncoming out of their deepest cavities, and the curling of mephitic vapors\naround their terrible jaws.\n\nWe were approaching that part of the moon which is known to astronomers as\nthe Bay of Rainbows. Here a huge", "the cape, the ruins of what appeared to be an ancient watch tower. It\nwas evidently composed of Cyclopean blocks larger than any that I had\never seen even among the ruins of Greece, Egypt and Asia Minor.\n\n\nThe Moon Was Inhabited.\n\nHere, then, was visible proof that the moon had been inhabited, although\nprobably it was not inhabited now. I cannot describe the exultant feeling\nwhich took possession of me at this discovery. It settled so much that\nlearned men had been disputing about for centuries.\n\n\"What will", "concerning whose secrets my imagination\nhad so often busied itself. When Mr. Edison and I had paid our previous\nvisit to the moon on the first experimental trip of the electrical ship,\nwe had landed at a point on its surface remote from this, and, as I have\nbefore explained, we then made no effort to investigate its secrets. But\nnow it was to be different, and we were at length to see something of\nthe wonders of the moon.\n\n\nLike a Human Face.\n\nI had often on the earth drawn a smile from my friends by showing them\nCape Her", "\nIndeed, one of the professors was certain that some little concretions\nfound on the interior of the piece of skull were petrified portions\nof the brain matter itself, and he set to work with the microscope to\nexamine its organic quality.\n\nIn the mean time, the repairs to the electrical ships had been completed,\nand, although these discoveries upon the moon had created a most profound\nsensation among the members of the expedition, and aroused an almost\nirresistible desire to continue the explorations thus happily begun,\nyet everybody knew that these", "part of the lunar world, for I had often studied it from the earth with a\ntelescope, and I had thought that if there was any part of the moon where\none might, with fair expectation of success, look for inhabitants, or if\nnot for inhabitants, at least for relics of life no longer existent there,\nthis would surely be the place. It was, therefore, with no small degree\nof curiosity, notwithstanding the unexpectedly frightful and repulsive\nappearance that the surface of the moon presented, that I now saw myself\nrapidly approaching the region", "ar mountain Aristarchus.\n\nBefore these expeditions started, a careful exploration had been made in\nthe neighborhood of Cape Heraclides. But, except that the broken walls\nof the watch tower on the peak, composed of blocks of enormous size,\nhad evidently been the work of creatures endowed with human intelligence,\nno remains were found indicating the former presence of inhabitants upon\nthis part of the moon.\n\n\nA Gigantic Human Footprint.\n\nBut along the shore of the old sea, just where the so-called Bay of\nRainbows separates itself from the ab", "other expeditions\nhad arrived at the rendezvous ahead of us. Their members had wonderful\nstories to tell of what they had seen, but nothing caused quite so much\nastonishment as that which we had to tell and to show.\n\nThe party which had gone to visit Plato and the lunar Alps brought back,\nhowever, information which, in a scientific sense, was no less interesting\nthan what we had been able to gather.\n\nThey had found within this curious ring of Plato, which is a circle of\nmountains sixty miles in diameter, enclosing a", "end of hypotheses had been invented to\naccount for it. Now I was to assist in settling these questions forever.\n\nFrom Cape Heraclides to Aristarchus the distance in an air line was\nsomething over 300 miles. Our course lay across the north-eastern part\nof the Sea of Showers, with enormous cliffs, mountain masses and peaks\nshining on the right, while in the other direction the view was bounded by\nthe distant range of the lunar Apennines, some of whose towering peaks,\nwhen viewed from our immense elevation, appeared as sharp as", "such other discoveries that led to the dispatch\nof the other various expeditions which I have already named. I had chosen\nto accompany the car that was going to Aristarchus, because, as every one\nwho had viewed the moon from the earth was aware, there was something very\nmysterious about that mountain. I knew that it was a crater nearly thirty\nmiles in diameter and very deep, although its floor was plainly visible.\n\n\nThe Glowing Mountains.\n\nWhat rendered it remarkable was the fact that the floor and the walls of\nthe crater, particularly on the inner side", ", this extraordinary rumor became a day star of truth to the nations.\n\n\nA Trip to the Moon.\n\nAnd it was true. I had myself been one of the occupants of the car of\nthe flying Ship of Space on that night when it silently left the earth,\nand rising out of the great shadow of the globe, sped on to the moon. We\nhad landed upon the scarred and desolate face of the earth's satellite,\nand but that there are greater and more interesting events, the telling of\nwhich must not be delayed, I should undertake to describe the", "toward the moon.\n\n\nA Triumphant Test.\n\nWhen we fell within the sphere of attraction of that orb it only became\nnecessary to so manipulate the electrical charge upon our car as nearly,\nbut not quite, to counterbalance the effect of the moon's attraction\nin order that we might gradually approach it and with an easy motion,\nsettle, without shock, upon its surface.\n\nWe did not remain to examine the wonders of the moon, although we could\nnot fail to observe many curious things therein. Having demonstrated\nthe fact that we could not only leave the earth", "things were aside from the main purpose in\nview, and that we should be false to our duty in wasting a moment more\nupon the moon than was absolutely necessary to put the ships in proper\ncondition to proceed on their warlike voyage.\n\n\nDeparting from the Moon.\n\nEverything being prepared then, we left the moon with great regret, just\nforty-eight hours after we had landed upon its surface, carrying with us\na determination to revisit it and to learn more of its wonderful secrets\nin case we should survive the dangers which we were now going to face.\n", "\n\"How are we going to dig it and get it back to earth?\" asked another.\n\n\"Carry it in your pockets,\" said one.\n\n\"No need of staking claims here,\" remarked another. \"There is enough\nfor everybody.\"\n\nMr. Edison suddenly turned the current of talk.\n\n\"What do you suppose those Martians were doing here?\"\n\n\"Why, they were wrecked here.\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it,\" said Mr. Edison. \"According to your own showing they\ncould not have been wrecked here. This planet", "ge before the morning light\nhad streaked the east, and be seen settling down again within the walls\nthat surrounded the laboratory of the great inventor. At length the\nrumor, gradually deepening into a conviction, spread that Edison himself,\naccompanied by a few scientific friends, had made an experimental trip\nto the moon. At a time when the spirit of mankind was less profoundly\nstirred, such a story would have been received with complete incredulity,\nbut now, rising on the wings of the new hope that was buoying up the\nearth", "with amazement.\n\n\"It cannot be, surely it cannot be,\" said Professor Moissan at length.\n\n\"But it is,\" said another member of the party.\n\n\"Are these diamonds?\" asked a third.\n\n\"I cannot yet tell,\" replied the Professor. \"They have the brilliancy\nof diamonds, but they may be something else.\"\n\n\"Moon jewels,\" suggested a third.\n\n\"And worth untold millions, whatever they are,\" remarked another.\n\n\nJewels from the Moon.\n\nThese magnificent crystals, some of", "to the Earth.\n\n\"Hurrah!\" exclaimed one. \"Let's send some of this back to the earth.\"\n\n\"Where is the earth?\" asked another.\n\nBeing appealed to, several astronomers turned their eyes in the direction\nof the sun, where the black firmament was ablaze with stars, and in a\nmoment recognized the earth-star shining there, with the moon attending\nclose at hand.\n\n\"There,\" said one, \"is the earth. Can you throw straight enough to\nhit it?\"\n\n\"We'll try,\" was the", "wandered forever, or else have fallen like meteors\nupon the earth, to give them interment in the lunar soil.\n\n\nNearing the Moon.\n\nAs we now rapidly approached the moon the change which the appearance of\nits surface underwent was no less wonderful than that which the surface of\nthe earth had presented in the reverse order while we were receding from\nit. From a pale silver orb, shining with comparative faintness among the\nstars, it slowly assumed the appearance of a vast mountainous desert. As\nwe drew nearer its colors became more pronounced;" ], [ "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "with great caution. Watching\nthe Martians with our telescopes we could clearly see that they were\ndisconcerted by the scattered order of our attack. Even if all of their\nengines of war had been in proper condition for use it would have been\nimpossible for them to meet the simultaneous assault of so many enemies\ndropping down upon them from the sky.\n\nBut they were made of fighting metal, as we knew from old experience. It\nwas no question of surrender. They did not know how to surrender, and we\ndid not know how to demand a surrender. Besides,", "\nsomething more than two thousand souls, with which we had quitted the\nearth, there remained only fifty-five ships and 1,085 men! All the\nothers had been lost in our terrific encounters with the Martians,\nand particularly in our first disastrous battle beneath the clouds.\n\n\nPreparing to Return.\n\nAmong the lost were many men whose names were famous upon the earth, and\nwhose death would be widely deplored when the news of it was received\nupon their native planet. Fortunately this number did not include any\nof those", ", with more than one-quarter of them\nsimultaneously. In the meantime the others would have surrounded and\nmight have destroyed us. We must first get some idea of the planet's\nmeans of defence before we ventured to assail it.\n\nHaving risen rapidly to a height of twenty-five or thirty miles, so that\nwe could feel confident that our ships had vanished at least from the\nnaked eye view of our enemies beneath, a brief consultation was held.\n\nIt was determined to adhere to our original programme and to\ncircumnavigate Mars in every", "imos that the Martians had undoubtedly\nconcluded that we were no longer in existence.\n\nSo we boldly quitted the little satellite with our entire squadron and\nonce more rapidly approached the red planet of war. This time it was\nto be a death grapple and our chances of victory still seemed good.\n\n\nReady for a Death Grapple.\n\nAs soon as we arrived so near the planet that there was danger of our\nbeing actually seen, we took pains to keep continually in the shadow\nof Mars, and the more surely to conceal our presence all lights upon\nthe ships", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", "87 days. More than 9,000 years had therefore elapsed since the first\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians.\n\nAnother great mystery--that of the origin of those gigantic and\ninexplicable monuments, the great pyramids and the Sphinx, on the banks of\nthe Nile, had also apparently been solved by us, although these Egyptian\nwonders had been the furthest things from our thoughts when we set out\nfor the planet Mars.\n\nWe had travelled more than thirty millions of miles in order to get\nansw", "?\" said Mr. Edison. \"We must look out for\nthat. Whenever you see one of the airships beginning to stick its nose\nup after that fashion blaze away at it.\"\n\nAn order to this effect was transmitted throughout the squadron. At the\nsame time several of the most powerful disintegrators were directed upon\nthe ship which had executed the stratagem and, reduced to a wreck, it\ndropped, whirling like a broken kite until it fell into the flood beneath.\n\n\nA Thousand Martian Ships.\n\nStill the Martians'", "\nannounced that after the meeting had adjourned an exhibition of the\nflying powers of the ship would be given in the open air.\n\nThese experiments, together with the accompanying explanations, added\nto what had already been disseminated through the public press, were\nquite sufficient to convince all the representatives who had assembled\nin Washington that the problem of how to conquer the Martians had\nbeen solved. The means were plainly at hand. It only remained to apply\nthem. For this purpose, as the President had pointed out, it would be\nnecessary to raise a very large", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", ". It is perfectly plain to me that they have been disabled\nin a battle. The Martians must have been fighting among themselves.\"\n\n\nA Martian Civil War!\n\n\"About the gold!\" exclaimed one.\n\n\"Of course. What else was there to fight about?\"\n\nAt this instant one of our men came running from a considerable distance,\nwaving his arms excitedly, but unable to give voice to his story, in the\ninappreciable atmosphere of the asteroid, until he had come up and made\ntelephonic connection with us.\n\n\"There is a", "\n\nAnd now the cry \"On to Mars!\" was heard on all sides. But for such an\nenterprise funds were needed--millions upon millions. Yet some of the\nfairest and richest portions of the earth had been impoverished by the\nfrightful ravages of those enemies who had dropped down upon them from\nthe skies. Still, the money must be had. The salvation of the planet,\nas everybody was now convinced, depended upon the successful negotiation\nof a gigantic war fund, in comparison with which all the expenditures in\nall of", "the Martians!\"\n\nThe startling truth burst upon the minds of all. Here upon this little\nplanetoid were several of the gigantic inhabitants of the world that we\nwere going to attack. There was more than one man in the flagship who\nrecognized them well, and who shuddered at the recognition, instinctively\nrecalling the recent terrible experience of the earth.\n\nWas this an outpost of the warlike Mars?\n\nAround these monstrous enemies we saw several of their engines of\nwar. Some of these appeared to have been wrecked, but at least", "deal with the\nairships, which will be all the means of defence that will then remain\nto them.\"\n\nThis idea commended itself to all the leaders of the expedition. It was\ndetermined to make a reconnaissance at once.\n\nBut it would not do for us to approach the planet too hastily, and we\ncertainly could not think of landing upon it in broad daylight. Still,\nas long as we were yet at a considerable distance from Mars, we felt that\nwe should be safe from observation, because so much time had elapsed\nwhile we were hidden behind De", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "the Martians to Be Foes Worth Fearing.\n\nThe eyes of man had never beheld such a spectacle!\n\nWhere a few minutes before the sunny face of a beautiful and populous\nplanet had been shining beneath us, there was now to be seen nothing but\nblack, billowing clouds, swelling up everywhere like the mouse-colored\nsmoke that pours from a great transatlantic liner when fresh coal has\njust been heaped upon her fires.\n\nIn some places the smoke spouted upward in huge jets to the height of\nseveral", "of innumerable canals with habitations\ncrowded along their banks, which came to a focus at a point on the\ncontinent of Aeria, westward from the Syrtis Major.\n\n\nDestroying The Martians.\n\nWith Aina's Aid Our Warriors Prepare an Awful Revenge on the Enemy.\n\nWe stopped the electrical ship at an elevation of perhaps three hundred\nfeet above the vast roof of a structure which Aina assured us was the\nbuilding we were in search of.\n\nHere we remained for a few minutes, caut", "still about 6,000,000 miles from Mars, so that, travelling three\nmiles in a second, we should require at least twenty-three days to reach\nthe immediate neighborhood of the planet.\n\nMeanwhile we had a plenty of occupation to make the time pass quickly. Our\nprisoner was transported along with us, and we now began our attempts to\nascertain what his language was, and, if possible, to master it ourselves.\n\nBefore quitting the asteroid we had found that it was necessary for\nhim to swallow one of his \"air pills,\"", "\n\n\nAnother Ship Destroyed.\n\nThe Death-Dealing Martians Strike a Fearful Blow at the Earth's\nWarriors.\n\nFor an instant not a word was spoken, so sudden and unexpected was\nthe blow.\n\nWe knew that every soul in the stricken car had perished.\n\n\"Back! Back!\" was the signal instantaneously flashed from the flagship,\nand reversing their polarities the members of the squadron sprang\naway from the little planet as rapidly as the electrical impulse could\ndrive them.\n\nBut", "begin a bombardment of the clouds without\npaying any attention to whether the strokes reach through the clouds\nand do any damage or not.\"\n\n\"This will induce the Martians to believe that we are determined to\npress our attack at this point.\"\n\n\"In the meantime, while these ships are raising a hullabaloo on this\nside of the planet, and drawing their fire, as much as possible, without\nrunning into any actual danger, let the others which have been selected\nfor the purpose, sail rapidly around to the other side of Mars and take\nthem in the" ], [ ", not only completely\ndestroyed whatever it fell upon but it seared the veins and arteries\nof the dismembered bodies so that there was no sanguinary exhibition\nconnected with its murderous work.\n\nAll this time the shackled Martian had lain on his back where we had\nleft him bound. What his feeling must have been may be imagined. At\ntimes, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, wildly rolling and exhibiting,\nwhen he saw that the victory was in our hands, the first indications of\nfear and terror shaking his soul that had yet", "effectively than we could have\ndone. Every stroke of the vibratory emanation made a gap in the side\nof the car, and we could perceive from the commotion within that our\nenemies were being rapidly massacred in their fortification.\n\nSo overwhelming was the force and the advantage of the ships that in a\nlittle while it was all over. Mr. Edison signalled them to stop firing\nbecause it was plain that all resistance had ceased and probably not\none of the Martians remained alive.\n\nWe now approached the car, which had been transpier", "destroy them? Be quick, or we shall all perish.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Mr. Edison, \"there is no danger. You can see that they are\nnot prepared. They will not attempt to attack us until they have made\ntheir landing.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Land.\n\nAnd Mr. Edison was right. With gradually accelerated velocity, and yet\nvery, very slowly in comparison with the speed they would have exhibited\nin falling upon such a planet as the earth, the Martians and their car\ncame down to the ground.\n\nWe stood", "by me with the light of battle upon his face.\n\n\"Sweep the discharge across the three,\" I exclaimed. \"Otherwise there\nwill be one left and before we can fire again he will crush us.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Are Killed.\n\nThe whirr of the two instruments sounded simultaneously, and with a quick,\nhorizontal motion we swept the lines of force around in such a manner\nthat all three of the Martians were caught by the vibratory streams and\nactually cut in two.\n\nLong gaps were opened in the wall of the room behind them,", "ators pointed upon the crowd like the muzzles\nof a cruiser's guns.\n\nAnd now the Martians saw that the contest was hopeless for them, and\ntheir mad struggle to get out of the range of the disintegrators and\nto escape from the death chamber was more appalling to look upon than\nanything that had yet occurred.\n\nIt was a panic of giants. They trod one another under foot; they yelled\nand screamed in their terror; they tore each other with their clawlike\nfingers. They no longer thought of resistance. The battle", "\n\"But, as you all know, the first feeling of relief which followed the\ndeath of our foes was quickly succeeded by the fearful news which came to\nus from the observatories, that the Martians were undoubtedly preparing\nfor a second invasion of our planet. Against this we should have had no\nrecourse and no hope but for the genius of one of my countrymen, who,\nas you are all aware, has perfected means which may enable us not only\nto withstand the attack of those awful enemies, but to meet them, and,\nlet us hope, to", "Everywhere the cry now became, \"Let us make\nhaste! Let us get ready at once! Who knows but the Martians have already\nembarked, and are now on their way to destroy us?\"\n\nUnder the impulse of this new feeling, which, it must be admitted,\nwas very largely inspired by terror, the vast ballroom was quickly\ndeserted. The lights were suddenly put out in the great dome of balloons,\nfor someone had whispered:\n\n\"Suppose they should see that from Mars? Would they not guess what we\nwere about, and redouble", "spirit had\nbeen blown out of them by a breath of terror that shivered their marrow.\n\n\nNo Pity for Our Foes.\n\nStill the pitiless disintegrators played upon them until Mr. Edison,\nmaking himself heard, now that the thunder of their engines had ceased\nto reverberate through the chamber, commanded that our fire should cease.\n\nIn the meantime the armed Martians outside the palace, hearing the\nuproar within, seeing our men pouring their fire through the windows,\nand supposing that we were guilty at once of", "the deluge. Even if all the others survived\nages would elapse before they could regain the power to injure us.\"\n\n\nThe Martians Submit.\n\nI need not describe in detail how our propositions were received by the\nMartian monarch. He knew, and his advisers, some of whom he had called\nin consultation, also knew, that everything was in our hands to do as we\npleased. They readily agreed, therefore, that they would make no more\nresistance and that we and our electrical ships should be undisturbed\nwhile we remained upon Mars. The", "ened its power to shatter apart the atoms of the resisting\nsubstance. The disintegrators were like firearms, in that after each\ndischarge they must be readjusted before they could be used again.\n\n\nThe Martians Are Desperate.\n\nThrough the breach we saw the Martians inside making desperate efforts\nto train their engine upon us, for after their first disastrous stroke\nwe had rapidly shifted our position. Swiftly the polished knob, which\ngleamed like an evil eye, moved round to sweep over us. Instinctively,\nthough", "with great caution. Watching\nthe Martians with our telescopes we could clearly see that they were\ndisconcerted by the scattered order of our attack. Even if all of their\nengines of war had been in proper condition for use it would have been\nimpossible for them to meet the simultaneous assault of so many enemies\ndropping down upon them from the sky.\n\nBut they were made of fighting metal, as we knew from old experience. It\nwas no question of surrender. They did not know how to surrender, and we\ndid not know how to demand a surrender. Besides,", "an instinctive movement of his hand that\nset the little engine in operation.\n\nI am sure he took no aim, but providentially the vibratory force fell\nupon the desired point, and the knob disappeared.\n\n\nSaved!\n\nWe were saved!\n\nInstantly half a dozen rushed toward the car of the Martians. We bitterly\nrepented their haste; they did not live to repent.\n\nUnknown to us the Martians carried hand engines, capable of launching\nbolts of death of the same character as those which emanated from the\n", "blow would deprive them of the power of resistance. A victory that cost\nus the loss of a single ship would be too dearly purchased now.\n\nHow to deal that blow, and first of all, how to discover the means of\ndealing it, were at present the uppermost problems in our minds.\n\nThe only hope for us lay in the girl.\n\nIf, as there was every reason to believe, she was familiar with the\nways and secrets of the Martians, then she might be able to direct our\nefforts in such a manner as to render them effective.\n\n", "followed the disastrous\ninvasion of the earth by the Martians should go without record, and\ncircumstances having placed the facts at my disposal, I deem it a duty,\nboth to posterity and to those who were witnesses of and participants\nin the avenging counterstroke that the earth dealt back at its ruthless\nenemy in the heavens, to write down the story in a connected form.\n\nThe Martians had nearly all perished, not through our puny efforts, but\nin consequence of disease, and the few survivors fled in one of their\nprojectile", ",\" commanded Mr. Edison. \"We have got them\ndown, and we are not going to murder them without necessity.\"\n\n\"Besides,\" he added, \"I want to capture some of them alive.\"\n\nThe signal was given as he had ordered. The flagship then alone dropped\nslowly toward the place on the asteroid where the prostrate Martians were.\n\n\nA Terrible Scene.\n\nAs we got near them a terrible scene unfolded itself to our eyes. There\nhad evidently been not more than half a dozen of the monsters in", "And Its Effect.\n\nEverything being prepared, and the entire squadron having assembled\nto watch the effect of the opening blow and be ready to follow it up,\nMr. Edison himself poised one of the new disintegrators, which was too\nlarge to be carried in the hand, and, following the direction indicated\nby the calculations of the astronomers, launched the vibratory discharge\ninto the ocean of blackness beneath.\n\n\nA Terrible Encounter.\n\nThe Martians and Our Warriors Fight a Battle to the Death.\n\nInstantly there opened beneath us a", "hasn't gravitation enough\nto wreck them by a fall, and besides I have been looking at their machines\nand I know there has been a fight.\"\n\n\"A fight?\" exclaimed several, pricking up their ears.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Edison; \"those machines bear the marks of the lightning of\nthe Martians. They have been disabled, but they are made of some metal or\nsome alloy of metals unknown to me, and consequently they have withstood\nthe destructive force applied to them, as our electric ships were unable\nto withstand it", "owlingly at her as we drew near. Apparently,\nthe bitterness of feeling which had led to the awful massacre of all her\nrace had not yet vanished. And, indeed, since the fact that she remained\nalive could have been known only to the Martian who had abducted her and\nto his immediate companions, her reappearance with us must have been a\ngreat surprise to all those who now looked upon her.\n\n\nThe Enemy Vanquished.\n\nThe Martians Succumb at Last, and Are at Our Mercy.\n\nIt was", "\nthem. If there is clear air under the smoke, as you think, why couldn't\nthe ships dart down through the curtain and come to a close tackle with\nthe Martians?\"\n\n\"It would not do at all,\" said the commander. \"We might simply run\nourselves into an ambush. No; we must stay outside, and if possible\nfight them from here.\"\n\n\nStrategic Measures Employed.\n\n\"They can't keep this thing up forever,\" said the officer. \"Perhaps the\nsmoke will clear off after a", "\nthe party.\n\nBut help came from a quarter which was unexpected to us, although it\nshould not have been so. Several of the electric ships had been hovering\nabove us during the fight, their commanders being apparently uncertain\nhow to act--fearful, perhaps, of injuring us in the attempt to smite\nour enemy.\n\nBut now the situation apparently lightened for them. They saw that we\nwere at an immense disadvantage, and several of them immediately turned\ntheir batteries upon the car of the Martians.\n\nThey riddled it far more quickly and" ] ]

[ "What American inventor led a group of scientists who studied the Martian equipment?", "When the humans battle some Martians on the moon, what weapon the Edison created help the humans defeat the Martians?", "Who is Aina?", "What did the Martians build in Egypt when they were on Earth thousands of years ago?", "With Aina's advice, How did Edison defeat the Martian civilization?", "What U.S. President helped to unite the world leaders to battle the Martians?", "What new technology created by Edison did the allies use to construct the space ships?", "When the humans originally try to invade Mars, what to the Martians do to their planet?", "What was the asteroid that the Martian were mining on the moon made from?", "What do the humans learn from their captive?", "Aina and Edison attack the dams, causing which kind of disaster that in turn kills most of the Martians?", "After determining that Martians will return, the Earth's leaders plan an attack on which planet?", "Where does Edison take his ships for a test run?", "The Great Sphynx of Egypt is a depiction of whom?", "The asteroid, being mined by the Martians, was found to be made of what?", "Who is the human slave found by the earth men?", "What type of ray was used in Edison's ray gun?", "The explorers found an extinct civilization of what type of creature?", "Most of Martians cities can be found where on Mars?", "How were the Martians stopped on earth?", "Who leads the group of scientists who develop weapons to defeats the Martians?", "What weapons do Thomas Edison's team make to fight the Martians?", "What are the Martians mining?", "What is the name of the human slave found on Mars?", "When did the Martians last raid the Earth?", "What did the Martians build when they raided the Earth before?", "What do the scientists find evidence of on the Moon?", "How many space battles do the humans fight against the Martians?", "How do the humans stop the Martians?" ]

[ [ "Thomas Edison", "Edison" ], [ "A disintegration ray gun", "A ray gun." ], [ "A human slave that the earth men found on Mars.", "A slave." ], [ "The Great Pyramids and the Great Sphinx.", "the pyramids and the sphynx " ], [ "He broke the dams and flooded their cities, killing most of the Martians.", "flooding them with water from polar ice caps" ], [ "President William McKinley", "William McKinley" ], [ "The anti-gravity devices powered by elctric repulsion.", "An anti-gravity device and a disintregation ray" ], [ "They enveloped it in a smoke screen causing the humans to retreat.", "put a smoke screen around it" ], [ "solid gold", "Gold." ], [ "The Martian language", "To attack the dams to flood the Martian cities" ], [ "A flood", "Flood." ], [ "Mars", "Mars" ], [ "The moon", "To the moon." ], [ "The Martian leader", "the Martians' leader" ], [ "Solid gold", "Gold" ], [ "Aina", "Aina." ], [ "A disintegration ray", "Disintegration." ], [ "Giants", "Giants" ], [ "Under sea level", "Under sea level" ], [ "By bacterial illness.", "by bacterial illness" ], [ "Thomas Edison", "Edison" ], [ "A disintegration ray and an anti-gravity device", "ray guns" ], [ "A solid gold asteroid", "A solid gold asteroid." ], [ "Aina", "Aina" ], [ "9,000 years ago", "9,000 years ago" ], [ "The Great Pyramids and the Great Sphinx.", "the pyramids and the sphynx" ], [ "An extinct race of giants. ", "evidence of a race of giants" ], [ "Two", "four" ], [ "By destroying dams that flood Mars. ", "by flooding them with melted polar ice" ] ]

[ [ "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", " Have you any idea\n\t\thow humiliating that is for me? I'm an\n\t\tactress! It's about our marriage for\n\t\tfuck's sake. Everybody knows that...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAbout me!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho the fuck do you think you are? The\n\t\tpart of Genna is not just about you.\n\t\tIt's about every woman I've ever", "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "are out of touch with\n\t\treality if you think differently.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's a shit novel anyway.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWell there you go. I let you off the\n\t\thook. You're one goddamn lucky actress.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNot really. I mean your books have\n\t\talways been pop, but this is the\n\t\tshallowest of the bunch. That's what all\n\t\tour friends think, anyway.\n", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "Y\n\t\tNot millions.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's directing now.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're paying him scale.\n\n\tThe CAMERA catches sight of Joe behind them. He moves\n\tthrough the foyer and into the living room with a tray of\n\tglasses and Judy in tow.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe gets huge advances on his novels.\n\t\tHe's going back to that. You know how he\n\t\thates", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\tJerry says it's very good. But you know,\n\t\tyou read the novel, and then you see the\n\t\tmovie - and most of the time you say,\n\t\t\"what's this?\" You know? I sometimes\n\t\tthink we're better off not reading the\n\t\tnovel at all. Because, we come with\n\t\texpectations... and of course, we know\n\t\twhere we're going. Don't you find?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tDon't I find what", "\t\t\t(also tearing up)\n\t\tNo you are not. You're Sally Nash.\n\t\tListen to me, you're Sally Nash. You're\n\t\tmy best friend and I love you more than\n\t\tanyone, and you're not going to move to\n\t\tLondon to have the offspring of a\n\t\tsexually ambivalent man-child. \"Oh now\n\t\tI'm a novelist, oh now I'm a director...\"\n\t\tEnglish prick bastard Joe Therrian who's\n\t", "\n\tSally shakes her head.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo. Did you?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(after a beat)\n\t\tNo. I missed that.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI missed all of you. We're okay, aren't\n\t\twe?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWe're great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI mean, you're really back.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHa! Not half so not kind as your husband\n\t\twas in his portrayal of you in his novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhy are you doing this?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHis image of you is a possessive, fragile\n\t\tneurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(tearing up)\n\t\tBut I am a possessive, fragile neurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand" ], [ "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tHere I am. Panes, my love!\n\n\tSally starts down the hallway.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(for Panes; a long supportive\n\t\t\t hug; a kiss)\n\t\tGood, you brought your violin. I want\n\t\tyou to play.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's a machine gun. I thought I'd kill\n\t\tmyself.\n\n\t\t", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "forward to meeting you, too.\n\t\tAnd Skye, I'm thrilled that you're\n\t\twilling to take this leap with me.\n\t\tEternally grateful, really.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(into the bathroom mirror)\n\t\tI'm going to throw up.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (O.S.)\n\t\tI can't imagine anyone else playing\n\t\tGenna.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(sanguine)\n\t\tReally?\n\n", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", "towards the doorway, Monica at his heals.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI need to leave you now.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI will treasure this.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(shouting down the hall)\n\t\tSally!!!!\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - LATER - DAY\n\n\tSally's team prepares clues for charades. Sally writes them\n\tdown, throws them in a bowler hat. Her teammates are Panes,\n\t", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", ". CORRIDOR - CLOSE SHOT - SALLY\n\n\tShe backs up into the corridor mortified. Leans against the\n\twall.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's preposterous. You're free to do\n\t\twhatever you like.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V.\n\t\tYes, well, we'll see won't we?\n\n\t\t\tMAC (O", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "yenne Walk,\n\t\tChelsea, London, England. No small\n\t\tdoing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI love you, you're a genius.\n\n\tBehind them, in the foyer, Judy wanders aimlessly.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tI suppose. Sally, that's quite a gift.\n\t\tI'm not sure it's in your best interest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI adore him.\n\n\t\t\tJERR", "\tNo, I don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(to Cal)\n\t\tCongratulations on the Academy Award.\n\t\tGreat performance. Really warranted.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHe thought so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSally always manages to get robbed.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a mortified grin)\n\t\tEnough about me.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tEvie has", "Y\n\t\tI don't want it to be just one of our\n\t\tparties.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\"How are you really doing, Panes?\"\n\t\t\"Lousy, thank you, I'm falling apart.\"\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tLike the last time.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNo. No, not like the last time. She was\n\t\tthe rest of my life.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tLike the last time.\n\n" ], [ "JEFFREY\n\t\tOh. You're them.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tExcuse me?\n\n\t\t\tJEFFREY\n\t\tWe've heard lots about you.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(lost)\n\t\tYou have?\n\n\tEXT. POOL - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJudy Adams lost herself a little, steps outside, sits\n\talone...\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(smiles over at Ryan)\n\t", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "\n\tMEDIUM CLOSE\n\n\tMonica alone, uneasy, starts to pour herself a glass of\n\tchampagne. Jeffrey gets to the bottle first.\n\n\t\t\tJEFFREY\n\t\tLet me.\n\t\t\t(pours for her)\n\t\tI'm Jeffrey.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tMonica.\n\n\t\t\tJEFFREY\n\t\tAnd you know our friends, how?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWe live next door.\n\n\t\t\t", "CUT TO:\n\n\tJeffrey's on his feet, giving the clue.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S TEAM\n\t\t\t(unison)\n\t\tQuote. Play.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tOh shit. It's one of Cal's. Obscure\n\t\tShakespeare, folks.\n\n\tCal gives her a little wave from the other side.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(calls over to him)\n\t\tMaybe", "Whatever!\n\t\t\t(to Gina)\n\t\tYou know how he gets. Well, he went\n\t\tabsolutely bonkers. Lucy and I were\n\t\tfrantically trying to scramble into the\n\t\tdumb waiter and I didn't fit any more.\n\t\tIt was almost fatal. And that, my dear\n\t\tfriends, is the day...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY/JEFFREY\n\t\tI realized I had become a man. Ta da!\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "/JEFFREY/SALLY\n\t\tYes./Often./I stopped counting.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe dumb waiter was our...\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tEscape hatch.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(eyes her)\n\t\tEscape hatch. And Dad was having a go\n\t\tabout the garden. Something was\n\t\tmisplanted...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNot properly watered.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "Sophia, Mac, Ryan, Sanford and Jeffrey.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tPanes?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tFrom Jewish Folk Poetry, a song cycle...\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tTrust him.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's Shostakovich.\n\n\tRyan spots his book on the shelf and pulls it out, delighted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tSandy...\n", "\tPanes reaches into the hat.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(reads clue; to Joe)\n\t\tWhat is it?\n\n\tJoe whispers to him.\n\n\t\t\tPANES (CONT'D)\n\t\tWhat's a sign for that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tCome on, Panes...\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tGo!\n\n\tPanes mimes a belly laugh.\n\n\t\t\tJEFFREY\n\t\tWhat the hell is that?\n", "\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tYou think we should ask them for their\n\t\tlandscaper?\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHm. Do you like fucking out of doors?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tNot as a rule.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tThey didn't sign their goddamn tax\n\t\treturns!\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally stands at the threshold, watches Cal and Soph", ".\n\n\tSally's uncomfortable, a little jealous... feels intrusive.\n\tAware that Gina got there first. Knew him when. And always\n\tcaptures something naked and vulnerable in his face.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\n\tINT. GUEST ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tIn the center of the room a low table with paints and crayons\n\tand glue and baubles. Two child size chairs either side.\n\tEmpty, the table hasn't been touched", "yenne Walk,\n\t\tChelsea, London, England. No small\n\t\tdoing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI love you, you're a genius.\n\n\tBehind them, in the foyer, Judy wanders aimlessly.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tI suppose. Sally, that's quite a gift.\n\t\tI'm not sure it's in your best interest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI adore him.\n\n\t\t\tJERR", ". And\n\t\tI'm so happy you asked me to. I'm so\n\t\ttouched. I know how private you and\n\t\tSally are.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(uncomfortable)\n\t\tYeah, well, it's just us and a few\n\t\thundred of our closest friends.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(genuine)\n\t\tWhen I read your work I felt that you\n\t\tknew me. Women must tell you that. And", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "\n\n\tHe strokes his beard again.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(blurts out)\n\t\tFrom Jewish Folk Poetry.\n\n\tJerry looks at her, amazed. She stands, throws hands up in\n\ttriumph, does a little victory circle.\n\n\tThe CAMERA CUTS through the rest of the game, aggressive,\n\tcompetitive, verging on hostile. Sally is often aching from\n\tlaughter, tears streaming down her face.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t", "\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tPanes and Skye are fucking on Joe and Sally's bed. Sally\n\twalks in on them searching for Panes' ear, her best buddy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(resigned)\n\t\tOh perfect!\n\n\tEXT. BACKYARD LANDING - MEDIUM FULL SHOT\n\n\tJerry and Judy lie alongside each other, hands propping\n\theads. They aren't privy to anything that", "pointing further up the\n\t\t\t property)\n\t\tI saw him wandering over there, I think.\n\t\tHow're you feeling, Clair?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm so good.\n\n\tShe kisses Joe and Cal, and goes off to find her husband.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tPoor Mac. It's been a bit of a struggle.\n\t\tI'm sure Sally's told you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNo, what?\n\n\t\t\t", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", ".\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh my god. I've been so rude. I'm Skye\n\t\tDavidson. Has anyone ever told you, you\n\t\tlook like Peter Sellers?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNo, never.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(overlapping Panes)\n\t\tEveryday.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tI'm Levi Panes. " ], [ "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "\tNo, I don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(to Cal)\n\t\tCongratulations on the Academy Award.\n\t\tGreat performance. Really warranted.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHe thought so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSally always manages to get robbed.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a mortified grin)\n\t\tEnough about me.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tEvie has", "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "\n\t\tHi. Monica and Ryan?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tSally?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes. And you've met Joe.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a deep breath)\n\t\tWell, so glad you decided to come.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWe could hardly say no.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh?\n\n\tJoe slips the coke", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", ". CORRIDOR - CLOSE SHOT - SALLY\n\n\tShe backs up into the corridor mortified. Leans against the\n\twall.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's preposterous. You're free to do\n\t\twhatever you like.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V.\n\t\tYes, well, we'll see won't we?\n\n\t\t\tMAC (O", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "there.\n\n\tSally stands at the open door. Stunned. Watches Mac watch\n\ther. Watches herself, with a professional, acute eye. More\n\tcritical than Mac's could ever be.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (ON TV)\n\t\tI was faking it. I've been feeling caged\n\t\tfor sometime. Funny, huh?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(moans)\n\t\tNo, it's not... Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\n\n\tINT", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "\n\tSally shakes her head.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo. Did you?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(after a beat)\n\t\tNo. I missed that.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI missed all of you. We're okay, aren't\n\t\twe?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWe're great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI mean, you're really back.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "towards the doorway, Monica at his heals.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI need to leave you now.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI will treasure this.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(shouting down the hall)\n\t\tSally!!!!\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - LATER - DAY\n\n\tSally's team prepares clues for charades. Sally writes them\n\tdown, throws them in a bowler hat. Her teammates are Panes,\n\t", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?" ], [ "it here.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThere's still time to undo this.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(kisses his cheek)\n\t\tWe'll be fine.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(re: barking dog)\n\t\tDid you invite them?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThe Roses? And of course they said yes.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThat was the plan. And you're thrilled\n\t\t", "\n\t\tHi. Monica and Ryan?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tSally?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes. And you've met Joe.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a deep breath)\n\t\tWell, so glad you decided to come.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWe could hardly say no.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh?\n\n\tJoe slips the coke", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "(muted)\n\t\tOh.\n\n\tThe Roses are happy to stand there on the fringe. Next to\n\tsomeone they've only seen on screen and magazine covers.\n\n\tClair's not in the least put off by them. She manages to\n\tsmile at them inclusively from time to time.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tSo they tell me. Not soon enough, of\n\t\tcourse.\n\t\t\t(kisses her cheek)\n\t\tHow are you, Sal? You look", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", "\tThe teams have come together.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho's keeping time?\n\n\tMac raises his hand on Sally's side, Jerry on Joe's.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tTwo minutes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(deferring first turn to Joe)\n\t\tIt's alright. Be our guests.\n\n\tShe offers the hat.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(offers the hat)\n\t\tYou darling.\n\n", "me to uninvite her?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo, no of course not. How old is she?\n\t\tTwenty-fucking-two?\n\n\tShe gets out of bed, starts into the bathroom. The CAMERA is\n\twith her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(into the bathroom mirror)\n\t\tAnd she's a stinking fucking actress, for\n\t\tfuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(into", ", hold on.\n\t\t\t(she looks at Joe)\n\t\tJust a moment.\n\t\t\t(puts the call on hold)\n\t\tIt's Skye Davidson. She needs directions\n\t\tto the house. You invited Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson to our anniversary party?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. I'm sorry, look, I meant to tell\n\t\tyou. It was the only chance I had to\n\t\tmeet her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou", "invited her to our anniversary party?\n\t\tI didn't even invite my mother.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe goes on location tomorrow. Sally,\n\t\tI'm sorry. Look, I can't keep her on\n\t\thold.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tNo, no of course not. It's Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(regards her)\n\t\tYou want", "\n\t\tVery well put.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI think a lot of this could have been\n\t\tavoided if Sally made more of an effort.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tBut you're very private people. You\n\t\tknow, there's a kind of elitism...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tElitism?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tThe wrong word, maybe", "pointing further up the\n\t\t\t property)\n\t\tI saw him wandering over there, I think.\n\t\tHow're you feeling, Clair?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm so good.\n\n\tShe kisses Joe and Cal, and goes off to find her husband.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tPoor Mac. It's been a bit of a struggle.\n\t\tI'm sure Sally's told you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNo, what?\n\n\t\t\t", "Yes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI so wish I'd known.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWell, whoever did this is amazing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI did it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(comes on them with the\n\t\t\t Forsythes in tow)\n\t\tShe rarely cops to it.\n\t\t\t(kisses Sally's cheek)\n\t\tOtis is home.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(", ".\n\t\tI lo--\n\n\tThe machine cuts her off.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tJoe and Sally have resumed their positions. This wasn't the\n\tcall they were waiting for.\n\n\tWIDE SHOT\n\n\tAMERICA, forty-one, and ROSA, fifty, struggle up the steps of\n\tthe back porch carrying grocery bags and packages, come\n\tthrough the sliding glass door...\n\n\tTHE CAMERA FOLLOWS THEM\n\n\tThrough the dining room and into the kitchen,", "For good.\n\n\tThey begin to make love...the phone RINGS.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tDon't get it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWell, it might be Clair. They're\n\t\tthreatening not to come...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey can't find a sitter...\n\t\t\t(into the receiver)\n\t\tHello? Excuse me? Yes, uh", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "\tINT. KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tAmerica and Rosa are working at the counter, Panes and Sally\n\tcome through.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh, Jesus, Panes. I can't, I can't\n\t\tbelieve that bitch is in my house.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou don't know she's a bitch.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tShe's all over him, are you blind?\n\n\t\t\tPANES", "\tThat for us?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tWhat a nose. You missed your calling.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tCan I open it?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(defers)\n\t\tSally?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tPlease?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's impossible. Go on then.\n\n\tJoe rips open the gift. It's a framed black and white of\n\tJoe, Sally and Otis lying on the", "was okay where it was.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's much more personal in here.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tA notch above the storage room.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWe're always in here.\n\t\t\t(regards the photo)\n\t\tShe really gets him, doesn't she?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tThe both of you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tBut she really gets to the heart of Joe,\n\t\t" ], [ "\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWell you could tell him otherwise. It\n\t\twas good of you to be all this help. But\n\t\the doesn't want to go tonight.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tJesus, Sally. I'm not the enemy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAnd you're not the wife.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIt's not a contest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tDamn straight.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n", ".\n\n\tSally's uncomfortable, a little jealous... feels intrusive.\n\tAware that Gina got there first. Knew him when. And always\n\tcaptures something naked and vulnerable in his face.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\n\tINT. GUEST ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tIn the center of the room a low table with paints and crayons\n\tand glue and baubles. Two child size chairs either side.\n\tEmpty, the table hasn't been touched", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "couch. It's clear which\n\tphotos in the house are Gina's. It's a breathtaking print,\n\tan amazing caught moment. All light and shadow. A touching\n\tstudy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(respectful of the talent)\n\t\tIt's beautiful, thank you so much.\n\n\tJoe, moved somehow, hugs Gina to him. Kisses her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI love you, Gina Taylor", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", ".\n\n\tTears start down Sally's face.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tYou need to call your dad.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tLeave us alone right now.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI've booked you a flight and packed you a\n\t\tbag. You just need to get into a car and\n\t\tgo.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWould you leave us alone right now?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI love her too, Joe.\n\n\t\t", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", ". You've got Gina. You've\n\t\tgot Skye? We're the leftovers.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay, knock it off.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tTruce?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tTruce.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tDinner.\n\t\t\t(on the move)\n\t\tDon't be angry.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tI'", "\n\n\tGina sets the photo on the desk, leans it up against the\n\twall. Joe and Sally's faces stare out of it.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(picks up receiver)\n\t\tHarry, hi, it's Gina! Gina. Is\n\t\teverything alright?\n\t\t\t(a deep intake of breath)\n\t\tOh my God. When? He's not here.\n\t\tThey're out looking for Otis. The dog,\n\t\tH", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "don't want to go tonight.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou don't have to.\n\n\tThey sit on the floor. Sally soothing, rocking Joe like a\n\tbaby.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(bereft)\n\t\tStupid tart.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - LATER\n\n\tGina's put up some coffee. Sophia, Cal, Mac and Clair stand\n\taround awkwardly. Sally comes into the room.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n", "\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(re: Sophia, appreciative)\n\t\tShe's such pure evil.\n\n\tSally approaches, gives Gina a warm kiss on the chest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThanks for coming.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHappy anniversary. You're a good match,\n\t\tyou two.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tCan you help me with this stuff?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(re: one of her bags)\n\t", "\tINT. KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tAmerica and Rosa are working at the counter, Panes and Sally\n\tcome through.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh, Jesus, Panes. I can't, I can't\n\t\tbelieve that bitch is in my house.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou don't know she's a bitch.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tShe's all over him, are you blind?\n\n\t\t\tPANES", "\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHa! Not half so not kind as your husband\n\t\twas in his portrayal of you in his novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhy are you doing this?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHis image of you is a possessive, fragile\n\t\tneurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(tearing up)\n\t\tBut I am a possessive, fragile neurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", " Have you any idea\n\t\thow humiliating that is for me? I'm an\n\t\tactress! It's about our marriage for\n\t\tfuck's sake. Everybody knows that...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAbout me!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho the fuck do you think you are? The\n\t\tpart of Genna is not just about you.\n\t\tIt's about every woman I've ever", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "there.\n\n\tSally stands at the open door. Stunned. Watches Mac watch\n\ther. Watches herself, with a professional, acute eye. More\n\tcritical than Mac's could ever be.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (ON TV)\n\t\tI was faking it. I've been feeling caged\n\t\tfor sometime. Funny, huh?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(moans)\n\t\tNo, it's not... Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\n\n\tINT", "?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm fine. I'm fine. Well, I'm a little\n\t\tstressed. And I've been taking pills to\n\t\tget my weight down since the baby.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI'd say it was down.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tAnd the doctor said they might make me a\n\t\tlittle jumpy. I've got a ghastly\n\t\theadache, actually.\n\n\t\t\tS" ], [ "s hand, kisses her cheek.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(tears up)\n\t\tHappy anniversary. Thank you for making\n\t\tme a part of it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pours the pills into her hand)\n\t\tWhat are they?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pleased, surprised)\n\t\tDolphins. Great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's ecstasy, Sal.\n\n", "carries them back to the living\n\troom.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tEcstasy is passed from guest to guest. Ryan expects Monica\n\tto abstain.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(his glare; simply)\n\t\tI want to try it, Ryan.\n\n\tEXT. POOL - LATER\n\n\tThe drug has begun to take effect. The party is now in full\n\tswing. Music is playing, and Sophia and Clair are", "\t\t\t fall)\n\t\tOh God, you're so lucky you don't have\n\t\tkids. You can't stick your head in the\n\t\toven. You can't take a handful of\n\t\tPercoden if you want to, or slit your\n\t\twrists. You can't do yourself in. Kids\n\t\trob you of that option. Trust me.\n\t\t\t(a beat)\n\t\tOh my God, this ecstacy must be really\n\t\tgood.\n\n\tEXT.", "friends. This\n\t\troom is so filled with love..\n\n\t\t\tASTRID\n\t\t\t(sings out)\n\t\tAnd the winner is...\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLet the woman speak.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tAnd I brought a gift of love. A gift\n\t\tthat is love.\n\n\tShe pulls an envelope from behind her back, which she's\n\tdecorated in flower-child fashion; it harkens back to the\n\tsixties, puts it into Sally'", ".\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI love it here. Don't you love it here,\n\t\tRyan? I love it here. And I love\n\t\ttonight. And I love these people. And\n\t\tthis feels utterly fantastic, Ryan.\n\t\t\t(touches her own cheek, ever so\n\t\t\t lightly; shivers against the\n\t\t\t sensation)\n\t\tUtterly fantastic.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tYou know what Sally Therrian was saying\n\t\tabout", "\t\t\t(to her Look)\n\t\tSophia's going to do it, Panes is going\n\t\tto do it, trust me.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tCal carries the envelope into the room.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\t\t(on seeing America, bursts\n\t\t\t into)\n\t\tAmerica, America God shed his light on\n\t\tme.\n\n\tHe dances her around the kitchen, he picks up the sterling\n\tdish, arranges the pills,", "Yes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI so wish I'd known.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWell, whoever did this is amazing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI did it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(comes on them with the\n\t\t\t Forsythes in tow)\n\t\tShe rarely cops to it.\n\t\t\t(kisses Sally's cheek)\n\t\tOtis is home.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(", "dancing.\n\n\tPeople are swimming, some naked, some in swimsuits. Judy\n\tfloats around the pool on an inflatable dog.\n\n\tSally and Skye cuddle together on one of the benches round\n\tthe pool, chatting; a friendly, feely touchy conversation.\n\tJoe passes around bottles of water and chewing gum to\n\teveryone, emceeing the event.\n\n\tEveryone is relaxed and open, except Ryan, who sits beside\n\tMonica at the edge of the garden, separated from the others", "\n\n\tHe strokes his beard again.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(blurts out)\n\t\tFrom Jewish Folk Poetry.\n\n\tJerry looks at her, amazed. She stands, throws hands up in\n\ttriumph, does a little victory circle.\n\n\tThe CAMERA CUTS through the rest of the game, aggressive,\n\tcompetitive, verging on hostile. Sally is often aching from\n\tlaughter, tears streaming down her face.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t", "\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI think you're the most beautiful woman\n\t\tin the world.\n\n\tThey move toward the bed.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat did you get me?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIn the morning, after everyone's gone and\n\t\tthere's just us.\n\n\tShe pushes him on the bed.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tKiss my eyes.\n\n\tShe does.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMy wrists", ". And\n\t\tI'm so happy you asked me to. I'm so\n\t\ttouched. I know how private you and\n\t\tSally are.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(uncomfortable)\n\t\tYeah, well, it's just us and a few\n\t\thundred of our closest friends.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(genuine)\n\t\tWhen I read your work I felt that you\n\t\tknew me. Women must tell you that. And", "you\n\t\tGod for giving me this chance. Thank you\n\t\tfor having Jerry here to save me. I\n\t\tpromise I will never cheat on my wife\n\t\tagain. I will never take drugs again,\n\t\tand I will be a great fucking husband and\n\t\ta loving father. I am a great father! I\n\t\thave terrific friends. I am a brilliant\n\t\tdirector. Well-respected. I won a\n\t\tGolden Globe, how 'bout that? Yeah, man", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\tIn fits and starts -- and then, later, of\n\t\tcourse, she had to accommodate me. So\n\t\tthings shifted a little bit then, became\n\t\tmore eclectic. And it keeps changing.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(somehow at a loss)\n\t\tMmm. It says something about the two of\n\t\tyou maybe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYeah, we're in a constant state of flux.\n\t\t\t(re: champagne)\n\t\tI see you", "POOL SIDE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe and Cal sit by the edge of the pool watching Skye dance\n\tby herself at the far end. Joe has his hand on Cal's chest.\n\tCal is stroking Joe's hair.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIsn't Skye amazing?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tShe's got great tits.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe's a constant surprise.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAnd you've only just met", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "\tJUDY\n\t\tOh yeah...\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh yeah... I'm gonna save you.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh yeah?\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tLet me heal you, baby.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(mantra)\n\t\tOh Jesus oh Jesus oh Jesus.\n\n\tGrunts, groans, a scream, a peel of giggles.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tOh yeah.\n\n\tINT.", "\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI think there are sixteen there.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(kisses Skye)\n\t\tThis is an amazing present. What a\n\t\tsweetheart you are.\n\n\tSkye's pleased she's made him happy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(regards Joe; to Skye)\n\t\tWhat a sweetheart you are.\n\n\tA pall descends on the party. There's a FULL SHOT of the\n\tgroup" ], [ "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "arry.\n\t\t\t(tears start down her face)\n\t\tI love you so much. Lucy's a fighter,\n\t\tshe'll make it. Whether she wants to or\n\t\tnot. Harry. I'm so sorry. I will.\n\t\t\t(writes down the number)\n\t\tYes I will. Take care, Harry. Bye.\n\n\tShe puts down the phone. Stares into Joe's face, looks up at\n\ta photo on the wall that she took of Joe and Lucy.", "Joe laughs.\n\n\t\t\tGINA (CONT'D)\n\t\tI saw Lucy when I was in London, she\n\t\tseems okay. It's hard to tell with her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShit, I forgot to call her back. She's\n\t\toff on a trip somewhere. Oh God, my\n\t\tgrandad's flat in London's been sold.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIn Cheyene Walk? Lucy's going to have a\n\t\tm", "'s yours.\n\n\tThe CAMERA glances off photos of the couple: portraits and\n\tcandids, their wedding day, with friends, on vacation,\n\ttumbling on the lawn, and the like.\n\tSome framed and hung, some taped to the fridge or simply\n\tleaning on a shelf. It's clear that at least a handful are\n\tby the same photographer, black and whites, grainy and\n\tbeautiful.\n\n\tThere are lots of photos of Joe and his sister Lucy,\n\tdocumenting their", "look at the other guests.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tWhat happened?\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM\n\n\tGina closes the door.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe suspense is killing me.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHarry called.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(growing dread)\n\t\tAnd?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(there's now way to say it)\n\t\tLucy overdosed.\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tOh Clair, you're so... You know. You\n\t\tjust put things in perspective.\n\n\tINT. MUSIC LIBRARY - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe listens to the answering machine message Lucy left that\n\tmorning. He plays it again and again.\n\n\tHE fast forwards to his father's voice. Presses the STOP\n\tbutton. Sits there, stunned.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(dials phone", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "Neutra. All GLASS and\n\tSMOOTH LINES.\n\n\tThe calm is broken by the telephone. Joe and Sally ignore it\n\tuntil the answering machine picks up. They break their yoga\n\tposes and listen.\n\n\tThe CAMERA hovers over the answering machine.\n\n\t\t\tLUCY (O.S.)\n\t\t\t(over answering machine; sweet,\n\t\t\t British, slightly desperate)\n\t\tJoe, it's Lucy. Remember me? It's the\n\t\tblack", "\n\n\tGina sets the photo on the desk, leans it up against the\n\twall. Joe and Sally's faces stare out of it.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(picks up receiver)\n\t\tHarry, hi, it's Gina! Gina. Is\n\t\teverything alright?\n\t\t\t(a deep intake of breath)\n\t\tOh my God. When? He's not here.\n\t\tThey're out looking for Otis. The dog,\n\t\tH", "sheep here. Bah...not funny.\n\t\tHaven't heard from you, need you, call\n\t\tme. Love you madly. Hi, Sally. Joe,\n\t\tI'd love to talk to you before I go...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tGo where?\n\n\t\t\tLUCY (O.S.)\n\t\t\t(over answering machine)\n\t\tIt's a damn nuisance you aren't here, big\n\t\tbrother. Sorry I drone on. I miss you", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", ", hold on.\n\t\t\t(she looks at Joe)\n\t\tJust a moment.\n\t\t\t(puts the call on hold)\n\t\tIt's Skye Davidson. She needs directions\n\t\tto the house. You invited Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson to our anniversary party?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. I'm sorry, look, I meant to tell\n\t\tyou. It was the only chance I had to\n\t\tmeet her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou", ".\n\t\tI lo--\n\n\tThe machine cuts her off.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tJoe and Sally have resumed their positions. This wasn't the\n\tcall they were waiting for.\n\n\tWIDE SHOT\n\n\tAMERICA, forty-one, and ROSA, fifty, struggle up the steps of\n\tthe back porch carrying grocery bags and packages, come\n\tthrough the sliding glass door...\n\n\tTHE CAMERA FOLLOWS THEM\n\n\tThrough the dining room and into the kitchen,", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tLife gets messy. Ugly messy. But I\n\t\tdon't understand you. And I don't think\n\t\tI ever understood Lucy. I don't\n\t\tunderstand throwing it away. How do you\n\t\tthrow all that away? Any of it. I want\n\t\tit all. You guys want guarantees? I\n\t\twant the possibilities. And all kinds of\n\t\tcrap comes with that. A lot of bad shit.\n\t\tAnd I", ".\n\n\tTears start down Sally's face.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tYou need to call your dad.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tLeave us alone right now.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI've booked you a flight and packed you a\n\t\tbag. You just need to get into a car and\n\t\tgo.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWould you leave us alone right now?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI love her too, Joe.\n\n\t\t", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "\n\tWe hear them calling for Otis.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOtis!!!!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(on her heels)\n\t\tOtis!!!!\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOtis, good boy, come here. Oh my god, oh\n\t\tmy god, oh my god.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThis is a nightmare. We should have kept\n\t\thim upstairs.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt was done. When" ], [ "stands against the wall, on either side of the\n\tfront door.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo luck.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, well, we'll just have to try again.\n\t\tSound like a plan?\n\n\tSally nods, she and Joe, at Steven's instructions, come out\n\tof their handstands and lie on the floor in a stretched\n\trelax, facing one another.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHappy anniversary, baby.\n\n\t\t\tJO", "\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a little choked laugh)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat's under lock and key.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tJoe reaches out of the tub for gift-wrapped box. He hands it\n\tto sally. It's their ritual gift-giving site.\n\n\tSally opens the gift. Takes out a Calder mobile.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHappy anniversary.\n\n", "E\n\t\tHappy anniversary.\n\n\tThey smile.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN\n\t\tAnd change sides...\n\n\tAmerica slides open the dining room doors. The dining table\n\tis covered with bundles of freshly cut flowers. Rosa is\n\tsinging in Spanish.\n\n\t\t\tAMERICA\n\t\t\t(with the authority of long\n\t\t\t years of service)\n\t\tMr. Joe, we have to have the house. If\n\t\tyou please now...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt", ". It's their anniversary. Is\n\t\tnothing sacred! Well...so...how am I?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(laughing)\n\t\tOh man, you are so fucking funny in the\n\t\tkitchen scene.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI liked the third take, the accidental\n\t\tdisaster with the silverware.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tNothing you do is accidental...\n\n\tMEDIUM FULL SHOT\n\n\tThe CAMERA spots GINA TAY", "\n\tcovers his eyes with his hands.\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\t\t(sings)\n\t\tHappy anniversary to you. We're glad Joe\n\t\tcame home. Don't split up again. Cause\n\t\twe like the food.\n\n\tMuch laughter and clapping.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(in the archway)\n\t\tJack. Did you compose that yourself?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "face pressed against\n\thers.\n\n\tThere's a SERIES OF CUTS through speeches, gifts,\n\tentertainment. Sophia and Cal do a well rehearsed, very\n\tfunny, impromptu something with their kids.\n\n\tPanes and Mac do an interpretive dance symbolizing the\n\tmarriage.\n\n\tCal and Sophia carry sleeping children down the hall.\n\n\tThere are speeches about Sally and Joe, outrageously dirty,\n\tfunny, sometimes touching - that cover their recent\n\tseparation", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "the keys to your grandad's flat.\n\t\tHappy anniversary, baby.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, Sally Mae...\n\n\tHe can't say anymore.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWill you make love with me?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tSure.\n\n\tShe reaches out with both arms.\n\n\tINT. BATHROOM - TIGHT CLOSE\n\n\tJoe and Sally tenderly make love. It", "\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tI wasn't finished.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOkay.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\"We can't stand seeing you like this,\n\t\tPanes. I hate you being alone. Why\n\t\tdon't you stay with us for a while?\"\n\t\t\"I'd love to, thanks.\"\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's our anniversary, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tI didn't hear me", "\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(re: Sophia, appreciative)\n\t\tShe's such pure evil.\n\n\tSally approaches, gives Gina a warm kiss on the chest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThanks for coming.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHappy anniversary. You're a good match,\n\t\tyou two.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tCan you help me with this stuff?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(re: one of her bags)\n\t", "\tYou can never be too early or too thin.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHappy anniversary, buddy! Six months\n\t\tago, who would have thunk it?\n\n\tJerry hugs Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(sotto)\n\t\tWell, not me, to be honest.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(sotto)\n\t\tDon't fuck up again. It's got a ripple\n\t\teffect. Sally suffers, we all suffer.", "s hand, kisses her cheek.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(tears up)\n\t\tHappy anniversary. Thank you for making\n\t\tme a part of it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pours the pills into her hand)\n\t\tWhat are they?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pleased, surprised)\n\t\tDolphins. Great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's ecstasy, Sal.\n\n", "\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(re: the cameras)\n\t\tI'm the hired help.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(affectionate)\n\t\tFuck you.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI never put myself in harm's way.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnymore.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tNo, not anymore. Happy anniversary,\n\t\tscout.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tSophia bursts from the kitchen.\n\n\t", ", hold on.\n\t\t\t(she looks at Joe)\n\t\tJust a moment.\n\t\t\t(puts the call on hold)\n\t\tIt's Skye Davidson. She needs directions\n\t\tto the house. You invited Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson to our anniversary party?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. I'm sorry, look, I meant to tell\n\t\tyou. It was the only chance I had to\n\t\tmeet her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou", "invited her to our anniversary party?\n\t\tI didn't even invite my mother.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe goes on location tomorrow. Sally,\n\t\tI'm sorry. Look, I can't keep her on\n\t\thold.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tNo, no of course not. It's Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(regards her)\n\t\tYou want", "\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(offers)\n\t\tWe have a gift?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThanks, I'll take that. Champagne?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tLovely.\n\n\tJoe moves toward the kitchen.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(a moment, to Sally)\n\t\tWe closed.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFantastic.\n\t\t\t(takes his hand)\n\t\tOut here.", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "it here.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThere's still time to undo this.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(kisses his cheek)\n\t\tWe'll be fine.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(re: barking dog)\n\t\tDid you invite them?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThe Roses? And of course they said yes.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThat was the plan. And you're thrilled\n\t\t", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che" ], [ "stands against the wall, on either side of the\n\tfront door.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo luck.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, well, we'll just have to try again.\n\t\tSound like a plan?\n\n\tSally nods, she and Joe, at Steven's instructions, come out\n\tof their handstands and lie on the floor in a stretched\n\trelax, facing one another.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHappy anniversary, baby.\n\n\t\t\tJO", "\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a little choked laugh)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat's under lock and key.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tJoe reaches out of the tub for gift-wrapped box. He hands it\n\tto sally. It's their ritual gift-giving site.\n\n\tSally opens the gift. Takes out a Calder mobile.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHappy anniversary.\n\n", "E\n\t\tHappy anniversary.\n\n\tThey smile.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN\n\t\tAnd change sides...\n\n\tAmerica slides open the dining room doors. The dining table\n\tis covered with bundles of freshly cut flowers. Rosa is\n\tsinging in Spanish.\n\n\t\t\tAMERICA\n\t\t\t(with the authority of long\n\t\t\t years of service)\n\t\tMr. Joe, we have to have the house. If\n\t\tyou please now...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "face pressed against\n\thers.\n\n\tThere's a SERIES OF CUTS through speeches, gifts,\n\tentertainment. Sophia and Cal do a well rehearsed, very\n\tfunny, impromptu something with their kids.\n\n\tPanes and Mac do an interpretive dance symbolizing the\n\tmarriage.\n\n\tCal and Sophia carry sleeping children down the hall.\n\n\tThere are speeches about Sally and Joe, outrageously dirty,\n\tfunny, sometimes touching - that cover their recent\n\tseparation", ". It's their anniversary. Is\n\t\tnothing sacred! Well...so...how am I?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(laughing)\n\t\tOh man, you are so fucking funny in the\n\t\tkitchen scene.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI liked the third take, the accidental\n\t\tdisaster with the silverware.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tNothing you do is accidental...\n\n\tMEDIUM FULL SHOT\n\n\tThe CAMERA spots GINA TAY", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "the keys to your grandad's flat.\n\t\tHappy anniversary, baby.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, Sally Mae...\n\n\tHe can't say anymore.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWill you make love with me?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tSure.\n\n\tShe reaches out with both arms.\n\n\tINT. BATHROOM - TIGHT CLOSE\n\n\tJoe and Sally tenderly make love. It", "\n\tcovers his eyes with his hands.\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\t\t(sings)\n\t\tHappy anniversary to you. We're glad Joe\n\t\tcame home. Don't split up again. Cause\n\t\twe like the food.\n\n\tMuch laughter and clapping.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(in the archway)\n\t\tJack. Did you compose that yourself?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tI wasn't finished.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOkay.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\"We can't stand seeing you like this,\n\t\tPanes. I hate you being alone. Why\n\t\tdon't you stay with us for a while?\"\n\t\t\"I'd love to, thanks.\"\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's our anniversary, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tI didn't hear me", "\tYou can never be too early or too thin.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHappy anniversary, buddy! Six months\n\t\tago, who would have thunk it?\n\n\tJerry hugs Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(sotto)\n\t\tWell, not me, to be honest.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(sotto)\n\t\tDon't fuck up again. It's got a ripple\n\t\teffect. Sally suffers, we all suffer.", "s hand, kisses her cheek.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(tears up)\n\t\tHappy anniversary. Thank you for making\n\t\tme a part of it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pours the pills into her hand)\n\t\tWhat are they?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pleased, surprised)\n\t\tDolphins. Great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's ecstasy, Sal.\n\n", "\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(re: Sophia, appreciative)\n\t\tShe's such pure evil.\n\n\tSally approaches, gives Gina a warm kiss on the chest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThanks for coming.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHappy anniversary. You're a good match,\n\t\tyou two.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tCan you help me with this stuff?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(re: one of her bags)\n\t", "\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(re: the cameras)\n\t\tI'm the hired help.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(affectionate)\n\t\tFuck you.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI never put myself in harm's way.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnymore.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tNo, not anymore. Happy anniversary,\n\t\tscout.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tSophia bursts from the kitchen.\n\n\t", "\n\t\tMmm hmmm.\n\n\tINT. FOYER\n\n\tCAL and SOPHIA GOLD are there with their children - JACK and\n\tEVIE - eight and six respectively. Carrying gifts and totes\n\twith toys and changes. Jerry and Sally have gathered them up\n\tand ushered them in.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou know Jerry.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tYes, of course.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tI'm the wife. We'", "\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(offers)\n\t\tWe have a gift?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThanks, I'll take that. Champagne?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tLovely.\n\n\tJoe moves toward the kitchen.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(a moment, to Sally)\n\t\tWe closed.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFantastic.\n\t\t\t(takes his hand)\n\t\tOut here.", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", ", hold on.\n\t\t\t(she looks at Joe)\n\t\tJust a moment.\n\t\t\t(puts the call on hold)\n\t\tIt's Skye Davidson. She needs directions\n\t\tto the house. You invited Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson to our anniversary party?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. I'm sorry, look, I meant to tell\n\t\tyou. It was the only chance I had to\n\t\tmeet her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou", "relationship from childhood. There's an\n\tANNIE LEIBOWITZ photo-shoot of Sally carelessly displayed\n\tsomewhere.\n\n\tINT. BEDROOM - LATER\n\n\tJoe stands behind Sally in front of the full length mirror,\n\this arms around her, stroking her belly.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI love you. Most beautiful woman in the\n\t\tworld.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHardly...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAccept a compliment." ], [ "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "\n\tcovers his eyes with his hands.\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\t\t(sings)\n\t\tHappy anniversary to you. We're glad Joe\n\t\tcame home. Don't split up again. Cause\n\t\twe like the food.\n\n\tMuch laughter and clapping.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(in the archway)\n\t\tJack. Did you compose that yourself?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "JOE\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tBut she's alright.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tShe's in ICU.\n\n\tJoe's legs give way. He sort of sits on the floor.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(laughs; shakes his head)\n\t\tStupid tart.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tShe left a note.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(realizes the import; to Gina)\n\t\tFuck you", "s amazed at the solid grip.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's a novelist.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tAh.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tLike Joe.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHmm.\n\t\t\t(to Sally)\n\t\tWhere are my kids?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIn the guest room. I've laid out a paint\n\t\ttable for them.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\t", "Joe laughs.\n\n\t\t\tGINA (CONT'D)\n\t\tI saw Lucy when I was in London, she\n\t\tseems okay. It's hard to tell with her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShit, I forgot to call her back. She's\n\t\toff on a trip somewhere. Oh God, my\n\t\tgrandad's flat in London's been sold.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIn Cheyene Walk? Lucy's going to have a\n\t\tm", "\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tLife gets messy. Ugly messy. But I\n\t\tdon't understand you. And I don't think\n\t\tI ever understood Lucy. I don't\n\t\tunderstand throwing it away. How do you\n\t\tthrow all that away? Any of it. I want\n\t\tit all. You guys want guarantees? I\n\t\twant the possibilities. And all kinds of\n\t\tcrap comes with that. A lot of bad shit.\n\t\tAnd I", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", ", aren't you?\n\t\t\t(nods knowingly)\n\t\tI recognized you from the book jacket.\n\n\tJoe grins from ear to ear. Uncharacteristically star struck\n\tin front of this beauty.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHow do you do, Skye?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh, I love that.\n\t\t\t(throws arms around him)\n\t\tI'm just great. I'm so happy to be here.\n\t\tAnd I apologize for invading you", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "at that again. If you're\n\t\tcoming from Laurel, you want to take\n\t\tSunset west, we're just past Will Rogers\n\t\tState Park. Three blocks west of that,\n\t\tyou want to hang right. It's about three\n\t\tquarters of a mile up a big white thing\n\t\ton the left.\n\n\tSally's started the bath, and is watching him from the\n\tdoorway. He meets her eyes mid-sentence.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n", "\t\tWe couldn't be on more solid ground.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tWhatever you say. Listen, I love you.\n\n\tOtis is barking.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (O.S.)\n\t\tOtis! No barking!\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(touched)\n\t\tAnd Joe's huge in Europe. He's like a\n\t\trock star in London. His novels sell\n\t\tmillions.\n\n\t\t\tJERR", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "\n\n\n\tFADE IN:\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - JOE THERRIAN - MORNING\n\n\tHe's in his mid-thirties, his face relaxed in sleep,\n\tchildlike. Nestled soundly a tangle in the arms of his wife.\n\n\tTHE CAMERA STAYS CLOSE. SLIGHTLY BLURRED, SOFT, SLOWLY\n\tSWINGS ROUND\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY THERRIAN\n\n\tShe's in her", " Joe is devastated. We hear\n\tSkye and Panes up ahead calling for Otis.\n\n\tINT. POOL - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSILENT UNDERWATER SHOTS\n\n\tOf Mac, Judy and Clair. Mac directs an underwater ballet, a\n\tla Esther Williams.\n\n\tThere's a sequence of TIGHT OVERLAPPING SHOTS of Mac,\n\tsmiling, swimming underwater. His image of himself... SLO-MO\n\tcompound", "of champagne.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEasy tiger.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tAlright. Please don't tell Ryan I'm\n\t\tdrinking.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tScout's honor.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(grins)\n\t\tI'll be your best friend.\n\n\tShe feels they've bonded. She pulls a well-thumbed copy of\n\tJoe's novel from her purse.\n\n\t", "cks him.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(inconsolable)\n\t\tI don't want you to go.\n\n\tHe wipes tears away that start afresh; his nose is running,\n\the wipes that too.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tI can't got tonight. I don't want to be\n\t\ton a plane on my own tonight.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI'll be with you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI" ], [ "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", ". CORRIDOR - CLOSE SHOT - SALLY\n\n\tShe backs up into the corridor mortified. Leans against the\n\twall.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's preposterous. You're free to do\n\t\twhatever you like.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V.\n\t\tYes, well, we'll see won't we?\n\n\t\t\tMAC (O", "was okay where it was.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's much more personal in here.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tA notch above the storage room.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWe're always in here.\n\t\t\t(regards the photo)\n\t\tShe really gets him, doesn't she?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tThe both of you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tBut she really gets to the heart of Joe,\n\t\t", "publisher. I\n\t\tthink he's outgrown him. They're just\n\t\tnot doing their job.\n\n\tA silence. Awkward smiles go all around.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHors d'oeuvres or something?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tYes, great! It's a beautiful house.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThank you. I understand you're an\n\t\tinterior decorator.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t", "way down the hall.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(a wide professionally\n\t\t\t ingratiating smile)\n\t\tSo nice...\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tAnd for us... Truly.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tWell...\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tYou will never know.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(pleased)\n\t\tOh.\n\t\t\t(to Sally)\n\t\tI have a four-thirty call. AM", ".\n\n\tSally's uncomfortable, a little jealous... feels intrusive.\n\tAware that Gina got there first. Knew him when. And always\n\tcaptures something naked and vulnerable in his face.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\n\tINT. GUEST ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tIn the center of the room a low table with paints and crayons\n\tand glue and baubles. Two child size chairs either side.\n\tEmpty, the table hasn't been touched", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "relationship from childhood. There's an\n\tANNIE LEIBOWITZ photo-shoot of Sally carelessly displayed\n\tsomewhere.\n\n\tINT. BEDROOM - LATER\n\n\tJoe stands behind Sally in front of the full length mirror,\n\this arms around her, stroking her belly.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI love you. Most beautiful woman in the\n\t\tworld.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHardly...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAccept a compliment.", "\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHa! Not half so not kind as your husband\n\t\twas in his portrayal of you in his novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhy are you doing this?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHis image of you is a possessive, fragile\n\t\tneurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(tearing up)\n\t\tBut I am a possessive, fragile neurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "there.\n\n\tSally stands at the open door. Stunned. Watches Mac watch\n\ther. Watches herself, with a professional, acute eye. More\n\tcritical than Mac's could ever be.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (ON TV)\n\t\tI was faking it. I've been feeling caged\n\t\tfor sometime. Funny, huh?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(moans)\n\t\tNo, it's not... Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\n\n\tINT", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "SALLY\n\t\t\t(slaps him)\n\t\tYou're a shit.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNo, really, five thousand with your\n\t\tdiscount.\n\n\tHe rolls out from under her swat, she misses him.\n\n\t\t\tPANES (CONT'D)\n\t\tYou hurt, you know. You're stronger than\n\t\tyou think.\n\n\tThey lie prone across the bed, about a foot apart.\n\tContemplating the floor.\n\n\t\t\tPAN", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "Yes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI so wish I'd known.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWell, whoever did this is amazing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI did it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(comes on them with the\n\t\t\t Forsythes in tow)\n\t\tShe rarely cops to it.\n\t\t\t(kisses Sally's cheek)\n\t\tOtis is home.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(", "intently. They are\n\tboth bopping to the music.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(re: the photograph)\n\t\tIsn't this a fabulous picture?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tShe's such a great photographer.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHm.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tSo where should I put it?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tI thought it", "five months\n\t\tsince Joe came back.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(getting up)\n\t\tWe're fine. We're great. We're having a\n\t\tbaby and we're moving to London.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\t\t(following her)\n\t\tWell, you weren't fine last summer when\n\t\tyou went Sylvia Plath on me in\n\t\tConnecticut.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNot nice. Not kind.\n" ], [ "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", ".\n\n\tSally's uncomfortable, a little jealous... feels intrusive.\n\tAware that Gina got there first. Knew him when. And always\n\tcaptures something naked and vulnerable in his face.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\n\tINT. GUEST ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tIn the center of the room a low table with paints and crayons\n\tand glue and baubles. Two child size chairs either side.\n\tEmpty, the table hasn't been touched", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "\tNo, I don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(to Cal)\n\t\tCongratulations on the Academy Award.\n\t\tGreat performance. Really warranted.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHe thought so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSally always manages to get robbed.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a mortified grin)\n\t\tEnough about me.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tEvie has", "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", ". CORRIDOR - CLOSE SHOT - SALLY\n\n\tShe backs up into the corridor mortified. Leans against the\n\twall.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's preposterous. You're free to do\n\t\twhatever you like.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V.\n\t\tYes, well, we'll see won't we?\n\n\t\t\tMAC (O", "\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHa! Not half so not kind as your husband\n\t\twas in his portrayal of you in his novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhy are you doing this?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHis image of you is a possessive, fragile\n\t\tneurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(tearing up)\n\t\tBut I am a possessive, fragile neurotic.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "there.\n\n\tSally stands at the open door. Stunned. Watches Mac watch\n\ther. Watches herself, with a professional, acute eye. More\n\tcritical than Mac's could ever be.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (ON TV)\n\t\tI was faking it. I've been feeling caged\n\t\tfor sometime. Funny, huh?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(moans)\n\t\tNo, it's not... Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\n\n\tINT", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "Yes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI so wish I'd known.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWell, whoever did this is amazing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI did it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(comes on them with the\n\t\t\t Forsythes in tow)\n\t\tShe rarely cops to it.\n\t\t\t(kisses Sally's cheek)\n\t\tOtis is home.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(", ".\n\n\tHe does.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tKiss the back of my knees.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThrough the sweats or not?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNot.\n\n\tShe pulls down his sweats. She kisses the back of his knees.\n\tHe turns, stares up at her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYou didn't kiss anyone else's knees, did\n\t\tyou?\n" ], [ "s worst idea.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tWhat's that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe neighbors from hell. The kind that\n\t\tlay in wait. I'd rather move actually.\n\t\tWouldn't I?\n\t\t\t(to Sally)\n\t\tWouldn't I?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(small smile)\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to the kids)\n\t\tOkay. Last one to find Otis is", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tOh my God! America told me your\n\t\tneighbors are coming?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAnd here they are!\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tAnd she was saying how happy you were to\n\t\tfinally have them over. Because you're\n\t\tboth, so, what - introspective? And you\n\t\tshould have done it ages ago. I'm Sophia\n\t\tGold.\n\t\t\t(rescuing Sally)\n\t", "business managers?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey're not just our business managers,\n\t\tPanes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOh, okay, forgive me. Your neighbors are\n\t\there, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tExactly what I mean. It's all ruined.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's not ruined, for fuck's sake. It's\n\t\tone of your parties.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "pointing further up the\n\t\t\t property)\n\t\tI saw him wandering over there, I think.\n\t\tHow're you feeling, Clair?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm so good.\n\n\tShe kisses Joe and Cal, and goes off to find her husband.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tPoor Mac. It's been a bit of a struggle.\n\t\tI'm sure Sally's told you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNo, what?\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", "\tThe teams have come together.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho's keeping time?\n\n\tMac raises his hand on Sally's side, Jerry on Joe's.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tTwo minutes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(deferring first turn to Joe)\n\t\tIt's alright. Be our guests.\n\n\tShe offers the hat.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(offers the hat)\n\t\tYou darling.\n\n", "\n\t\tHi. Monica and Ryan?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tSally?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes. And you've met Joe.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a deep breath)\n\t\tWell, so glad you decided to come.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWe could hardly say no.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh?\n\n\tJoe slips the coke", "it here.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThere's still time to undo this.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(kisses his cheek)\n\t\tWe'll be fine.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(re: barking dog)\n\t\tDid you invite them?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThe Roses? And of course they said yes.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThat was the plan. And you're thrilled\n\t\t", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", ", hold on.\n\t\t\t(she looks at Joe)\n\t\tJust a moment.\n\t\t\t(puts the call on hold)\n\t\tIt's Skye Davidson. She needs directions\n\t\tto the house. You invited Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson to our anniversary party?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. I'm sorry, look, I meant to tell\n\t\tyou. It was the only chance I had to\n\t\tmeet her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou", "\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tYou think we should ask them for their\n\t\tlandscaper?\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHm. Do you like fucking out of doors?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tNot as a rule.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tThey didn't sign their goddamn tax\n\t\treturns!\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally stands at the threshold, watches Cal and Soph", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "me to uninvite her?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo, no of course not. How old is she?\n\t\tTwenty-fucking-two?\n\n\tShe gets out of bed, starts into the bathroom. The CAMERA is\n\twith her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(into the bathroom mirror)\n\t\tAnd she's a stinking fucking actress, for\n\t\tfuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(into", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "\n\t\tVery well put.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI think a lot of this could have been\n\t\tavoided if Sally made more of an effort.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tBut you're very private people. You\n\t\tknow, there's a kind of elitism...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tElitism?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tThe wrong word, maybe", "invited her to our anniversary party?\n\t\tI didn't even invite my mother.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe goes on location tomorrow. Sally,\n\t\tI'm sorry. Look, I can't keep her on\n\t\thold.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tNo, no of course not. It's Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(regards her)\n\t\tYou want", "\n\tSally shakes her head.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo. Did you?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(after a beat)\n\t\tNo. I missed that.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI missed all of you. We're okay, aren't\n\t\twe?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWe're great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI mean, you're really back.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "a fucking\n\t\tfarce. It's a fucking farce. How long\n\t\tdid you think you could keep it going.\n\t\tYou're amazing. Do you have any idea\n\t\twhat you've done to us?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI'll never forgive you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI have no idea who you are.\n\n\tThey stand their in silence." ], [ "friends. This\n\t\troom is so filled with love..\n\n\t\t\tASTRID\n\t\t\t(sings out)\n\t\tAnd the winner is...\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLet the woman speak.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tAnd I brought a gift of love. A gift\n\t\tthat is love.\n\n\tShe pulls an envelope from behind her back, which she's\n\tdecorated in flower-child fashion; it harkens back to the\n\tsixties, puts it into Sally'", ", aren't you?\n\t\t\t(nods knowingly)\n\t\tI recognized you from the book jacket.\n\n\tJoe grins from ear to ear. Uncharacteristically star struck\n\tin front of this beauty.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHow do you do, Skye?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh, I love that.\n\t\t\t(throws arms around him)\n\t\tI'm just great. I'm so happy to be here.\n\t\tAnd I apologize for invading you", "\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI think there are sixteen there.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(kisses Skye)\n\t\tThis is an amazing present. What a\n\t\tsweetheart you are.\n\n\tSkye's pleased she's made him happy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(regards Joe; to Skye)\n\t\tWhat a sweetheart you are.\n\n\tA pall descends on the party. There's a FULL SHOT of the\n\tgroup", "finds room next to Skye.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIs there space here?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tDo you need anything else?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tNo, no thanks.\n\n\tHe sits on the floor along side her. They eat in silence for\n\ta moment.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(finally)\n\t\tI was impressed.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh?", ". And\n\t\tI'm so happy you asked me to. I'm so\n\t\ttouched. I know how private you and\n\t\tSally are.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(uncomfortable)\n\t\tYeah, well, it's just us and a few\n\t\thundred of our closest friends.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(genuine)\n\t\tWhen I read your work I felt that you\n\t\tknew me. Women must tell you that. And", "kiss. She kisses her finger tips and puts her\n\thand flat against the window pane.\n\n\tINT. BEDROOM CLOSET - TIGHT CLOSE - SALLY\n\n\tShe's in her wardrobe pacing back and forth a bit frantic.\n\tTrying on clothing, tossing garments to the ground. The\n\tfloor is a heap of discarded ideas. She pulls on jeans and a\n\tt-shirt. Very similar to what Skye is wearing. She sits a\n\tmoment on the floor. The", "couldn't be more flattered, because I\n\t\tknow the part I'm playing in Joe's movie\n\t\tis based on you as a young woman.\n\n\tJoe winces, uncomfortable, picks up the bottle of wine and\n\tleaves.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd I'm overwhelmed. And I want to do it\n\t\tjustice. And I hope we can spend time\n\t\ttogether. And I'm gushing. It's my\n\t\tworst quality", "\n\n\tPanes gives them another little wave. Doorbell rings.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SKYE DAVIDSON\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tHi.\n\n\tShe's the young, beautiful actress who'll play the lead in\n\tJoe's film.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(his face lights up)\n\t\tSkye!\n\n\tShe's in jeans, but somehow looks dressed to the 9s.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tYou're Joe", "Will you excuse us,\n\t\tSkye? It's time for Sally's meds.\n\n\tPanes steers Sally out of the kitchen.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's nice to meet you... again.\n\n\tThey go. Skye is left in the kitchen alone.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(to America)\n\t\tOh my God, she remembers me!\n\n\tINT. FOYER - MEDIUM CLOSE\n\n\tSally and Panes start down", "\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(laughing)\n\t\tVery.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOh good, I'm worse... Are you really\n\t\ttwenty-two?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tWho told you that? No. I'm twenty...\n\t\t\t(lops off two years)\n\t\tFive.\n\n\tEXT. CANYON - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe have lanterns. Panes and Skye are up ahead.", "s hand, kisses her cheek.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(tears up)\n\t\tHappy anniversary. Thank you for making\n\t\tme a part of it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pours the pills into her hand)\n\t\tWhat are they?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pleased, surprised)\n\t\tDolphins. Great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's ecstasy, Sal.\n\n", "\tprobably going to leave you for Skye\n\t\tDavidson anyway.\n\n\tThey hug a bit weepy.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA (CONT'D)\n\t\tHe's always one step removed, always\n\t\tlooking over his shoulder always looking\n\t\tfor something else, something more\n\t\tintoxicating, and I don't mean drugs. I\n\t\tlove him, Sal, but he's a child. He's\n\t\tnot ready.\n\t\t\t(a choked sob, tears well and\n", "the receiver)\n\t\tSkye!\n\t\t\t(his face lights)\n\t\tI'm so glad you're able to make it...it's\n\t\tour sixth, actually.\n\t\t\t(flattered)\n\t\tYou read the book again? Well, no, the\n\t\tending to chapter six...it's just that\n\t\tit's not filmic.\n\t\tWe tried it in an earlier draft, but, it\n\t\tjust wasn't filmic... Well, sure, we can\n\t\tabsolutely look", "POOL SIDE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe and Cal sit by the edge of the pool watching Skye dance\n\tby herself at the far end. Joe has his hand on Cal's chest.\n\tCal is stroking Joe's hair.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIsn't Skye amazing?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tShe's got great tits.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe's a constant surprise.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAnd you've only just met", "\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tThe charades.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tThat was my clue.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tThe Shostakovich.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tReally??\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(does Seller's Indian)\n\t\tOh yes, indeed. That was my clue, you\n\t\tsee", ", the custody of Otis, their trying to have a\n\tbaby...\n\n\tPanes plays a piece on the violin. Someone else sings. And\n\tfinally...\n\n\tMEDIUM CLOSE - SKYE\n\n\tShe looks out at the guests...\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tThey look back at her.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI wasn't prepared to say anything. I'm\n\t\thonored to be a part of tonight. To be\n\t\tin the same room,", "a little something for you.\n\n\tEvie shakes her head.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA (CONT'D)\n\t\tYou do.\n\n\t\t\tEVIE\n\t\t\t(even)\n\t\tI don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tSince when are you so shy?\n\n\t\t\tEVIE\n\t\t\t(her mother's daughter)\n\t\tNever.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\t\t(bright smile)\n\t\tHoney, we have gifts", "say tonight.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWe're just feeling our way back.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\"Otherwise, we'd insist on your being\n\t\there.\"\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou know it's true.\n\n\tSkye bursts into the kitchen, Sally and Panes freeze.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(stuck)\n\t\tOh my God, sorry. I'm interrupting.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tWould you, like, marry him?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tIf he were still alive, maybe.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tHow about someone who really really liked\n\t\tShostakovich?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tAre you asking me to marry you?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNo, I'm just testing to see how deeply\n\t\tperverted and impulsive you are.\n\n\t" ], [ "opens the drawer, sweeps the rings into\n\tit.\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - LATE MORNING\n\n\tThe \"FOR SALE\" sign is hammered into the ground.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tDISSOLVE TO:\n\n\tEXT. HIGH SHOT - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tOtis wanders along the street, up the driveway and disappears\n\tthrough the flap in the kitchen door.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t FADE OUT.\n\n\n", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "'s the dissolution of\n\ttheir marriage.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - NINE A.M.\n\n\tAmerica and Rosa begins to clean up the debris from the\n\tparty.\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tA taxi pulls up. Joe gets in with his bags. The cab backs\n\tout...\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM - MEDIUM CLOSE\n\n\tThe two wedding rings rest on the nightstand, hers nestled in\n\this. Sally's hand", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "TINUOUS\n\n\tIt's empty but for glasses, wrapping paper, abandoned dishes\n\tof leftover cake.\n\n\tINT. EMPTY KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tINT. GUEST BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tThe bed is rumpled and indented from the sleeping children.\n\tTheir drawings and paints strewn all over the floor...and\n\tWalls.\n\n\tINT. EMPTY DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tINT. MA", ". Nobody quite knows what to do. There's torn wrapping\n\tpaper all over the room.\n\n\t\t\tASTRID\n\t\t\t(Anouk still in her lap)\n\t\tIt's late.\n\t\t\t(kisses Anouk)\n\t\tYou sleepy baby?\n\n\tThere are awkward excuses. Some of the guests leave.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tThe core group remains.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI think we", "a fucking\n\t\tfarce. It's a fucking farce. How long\n\t\tdid you think you could keep it going.\n\t\tYou're amazing. Do you have any idea\n\t\twhat you've done to us?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI'll never forgive you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI have no idea who you are.\n\n\tThey stand their in silence.", "\tPanes, Skye, Sally and Joe come into the room dogless.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat is it?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tLet's go upstairs, okay?\n\n\tJoe looks from Gina to the others.\n\n\t\t\tGINA (CONT'D)\n\t\tLet's go upstairs.\n\n\tThey move out of the room.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(on the way upstairs)\n\t\tIs it Otis?\n\n\tSkye and Panes", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "towards the doorway, Monica at his heals.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI need to leave you now.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI will treasure this.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(shouting down the hall)\n\t\tSally!!!!\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - LATER - DAY\n\n\tSally's team prepares clues for charades. Sally writes them\n\tdown, throws them in a bowler hat. Her teammates are Panes,\n\t", "\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI think there are sixteen there.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(kisses Skye)\n\t\tThis is an amazing present. What a\n\t\tsweetheart you are.\n\n\tSkye's pleased she's made him happy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(regards Joe; to Skye)\n\t\tWhat a sweetheart you are.\n\n\tA pall descends on the party. There's a FULL SHOT of the\n\tgroup", "four...\n\n\tClair wanders up. She's changed into her own clothes.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI've lost my husband and my beeper. Have\n\t\teither of you seen either of them?\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - LATER\n\n\tClair, Mac, Sophia, Cal and Gina are waiting. The overnight\n\tbag rests near the coffee table. No one speaks.\n\n\tThere are sounds of the search party approaching.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n", "\n\tother.\n\n\t\t\tOE\n\t\tMy plane leaves in a few hours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOkay. Do you want me to come with you?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(simply)\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOkay.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tPretty much a disaster, tonight, wasn't\n\t\tit?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI guess.\n\n", ". Stops watching...\n\n\tINT. MOVIE SET\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tYou sing like a bird.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tA bird with dropsy. A caged bird. That\n\t\thasn't long to live.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S)\n\t\tYou seem so alive up", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "ed by water-weight.\n\n\tThe drug has clearly taken effect. Mac opens his mouth to\n\tdirect his actors, forgets where he is, begins to choke, and\n\tcough, is clearly in trouble.\n\n\tOblivious, Judy and Clair turn somersaults.\n\n\tMac begins to panic. He is drowning.\n\n\tHe begins to sink. Panic gives way to acceptance.\n\n\tJerry's body flies past FRAME, splashes hard into the pool.\n\tThe LENS is water-", "pointing further up the\n\t\t\t property)\n\t\tI saw him wandering over there, I think.\n\t\tHow're you feeling, Clair?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm so good.\n\n\tShe kisses Joe and Cal, and goes off to find her husband.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tPoor Mac. It's been a bit of a struggle.\n\t\tI'm sure Sally's told you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNo, what?\n\n\t\t\t", "lightly... and again. Her arms\n\tcan't make up her mind, whether to come up around him or not.\n\tFinally do.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOtis!! Otis, come! Oh fuck!\n\n\tShe appears beside them.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tSomeone left the goddamn gate open. Otis\n\t\tgot out. Skye and I, well the... I came\n\t\tout of the house and the fucking gate", "\n\tWe hear them calling for Otis.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOtis!!!!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(on her heels)\n\t\tOtis!!!!\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOtis, good boy, come here. Oh my god, oh\n\t\tmy god, oh my god.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThis is a nightmare. We should have kept\n\t\thim upstairs.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt was done. When", " Joe is devastated. We hear\n\tSkye and Panes up ahead calling for Otis.\n\n\tINT. POOL - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSILENT UNDERWATER SHOTS\n\n\tOf Mac, Judy and Clair. Mac directs an underwater ballet, a\n\tla Esther Williams.\n\n\tThere's a sequence of TIGHT OVERLAPPING SHOTS of Mac,\n\tsmiling, swimming underwater. His image of himself... SLO-MO\n\tcompound" ], [ "\n\n\tGina sets the photo on the desk, leans it up against the\n\twall. Joe and Sally's faces stare out of it.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(picks up receiver)\n\t\tHarry, hi, it's Gina! Gina. Is\n\t\teverything alright?\n\t\t\t(a deep intake of breath)\n\t\tOh my God. When? He's not here.\n\t\tThey're out looking for Otis. The dog,\n\t\tH", "opens the drawer, sweeps the rings into\n\tit.\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - LATE MORNING\n\n\tThe \"FOR SALE\" sign is hammered into the ground.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tDISSOLVE TO:\n\n\tEXT. HIGH SHOT - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tOtis wanders along the street, up the driveway and disappears\n\tthrough the flap in the kitchen door.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t FADE OUT.\n\n\n", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "For good.\n\n\tThey begin to make love...the phone RINGS.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tDon't get it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWell, it might be Clair. They're\n\t\tthreatening not to come...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey can't find a sitter...\n\t\t\t(into the receiver)\n\t\tHello? Excuse me? Yes, uh", ".\n\t\tI lo--\n\n\tThe machine cuts her off.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tJoe and Sally have resumed their positions. This wasn't the\n\tcall they were waiting for.\n\n\tWIDE SHOT\n\n\tAMERICA, forty-one, and ROSA, fifty, struggle up the steps of\n\tthe back porch carrying grocery bags and packages, come\n\tthrough the sliding glass door...\n\n\tTHE CAMERA FOLLOWS THEM\n\n\tThrough the dining room and into the kitchen,", "\n\tWe hear them calling for Otis.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOtis!!!!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(on her heels)\n\t\tOtis!!!!\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOtis, good boy, come here. Oh my god, oh\n\t\tmy god, oh my god.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThis is a nightmare. We should have kept\n\t\thim upstairs.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt was done. When", "arry.\n\t\t\t(tears start down her face)\n\t\tI love you so much. Lucy's a fighter,\n\t\tshe'll make it. Whether she wants to or\n\t\tnot. Harry. I'm so sorry. I will.\n\t\t\t(writes down the number)\n\t\tYes I will. Take care, Harry. Bye.\n\n\tShe puts down the phone. Stares into Joe's face, looks up at\n\ta photo on the wall that she took of Joe and Lucy.", "look at the other guests.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tWhat happened?\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM\n\n\tGina closes the door.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe suspense is killing me.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHarry called.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(growing dread)\n\t\tAnd?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(there's now way to say it)\n\t\tLucy overdosed.\n\n\t\t\t", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tOh Clair, you're so... You know. You\n\t\tjust put things in perspective.\n\n\tINT. MUSIC LIBRARY - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe listens to the answering machine message Lucy left that\n\tmorning. He plays it again and again.\n\n\tHE fast forwards to his father's voice. Presses the STOP\n\tbutton. Sits there, stunned.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(dials phone", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "a fucking\n\t\tfarce. It's a fucking farce. How long\n\t\tdid you think you could keep it going.\n\t\tYou're amazing. Do you have any idea\n\t\twhat you've done to us?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI'll never forgive you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI have no idea who you are.\n\n\tThey stand their in silence.", "\n\t\t\t(wants to say \"don't call me\n\t\t\t sport\")\n\t\tYeah, thanks pal.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(helpless)\n\t\tHoney?\n\n\tThey all stand around watching him. Mac gets up.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI'm fine, babe. I'm gonna take a little\n\t\twalk. I need a minute. Let's forget it.\n\t\tMy life didn't pass in front of my eyes.\n\t\tSo", "'s the dissolution of\n\ttheir marriage.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - NINE A.M.\n\n\tAmerica and Rosa begins to clean up the debris from the\n\tparty.\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tA taxi pulls up. Joe gets in with his bags. The cab backs\n\tout...\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM - MEDIUM CLOSE\n\n\tThe two wedding rings rest on the nightstand, hers nestled in\n\this. Sally's hand", "Mac? Oh there you are. What are you\n\t\tdoing, honey? No more work. Don't you\n\t\tfeel breezy.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI'm in mourning.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tYou can cut around it, whatever it is.\n\t\tYou always do.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tNot this time.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tIt's always not this time. If you can do\n\t\tit around me, you can", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", ". Stops watching...\n\n\tINT. MOVIE SET\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tYou sing like a bird.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tA bird with dropsy. A caged bird. That\n\t\thasn't long to live.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S)\n\t\tYou seem so alive up", "JOE\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tBut she's alright.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tShe's in ICU.\n\n\tJoe's legs give way. He sort of sits on the floor.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(laughs; shakes his head)\n\t\tStupid tart.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tShe left a note.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(realizes the import; to Gina)\n\t\tFuck you", "four...\n\n\tClair wanders up. She's changed into her own clothes.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI've lost my husband and my beeper. Have\n\t\teither of you seen either of them?\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - LATER\n\n\tClair, Mac, Sophia, Cal and Gina are waiting. The overnight\n\tbag rests near the coffee table. No one speaks.\n\n\tThere are sounds of the search party approaching.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head" ], [ "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", " Have you any idea\n\t\thow humiliating that is for me? I'm an\n\t\tactress! It's about our marriage for\n\t\tfuck's sake. Everybody knows that...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAbout me!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho the fuck do you think you are? The\n\t\tpart of Genna is not just about you.\n\t\tIt's about every woman I've ever", "me to uninvite her?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo, no of course not. How old is she?\n\t\tTwenty-fucking-two?\n\n\tShe gets out of bed, starts into the bathroom. The CAMERA is\n\twith her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(into the bathroom mirror)\n\t\tAnd she's a stinking fucking actress, for\n\t\tfuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(into", "a fucking\n\t\tfarce. It's a fucking farce. How long\n\t\tdid you think you could keep it going.\n\t\tYou're amazing. Do you have any idea\n\t\twhat you've done to us?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI'll never forgive you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI have no idea who you are.\n\n\tThey stand their in silence.", "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", "invited her to our anniversary party?\n\t\tI didn't even invite my mother.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe goes on location tomorrow. Sally,\n\t\tI'm sorry. Look, I can't keep her on\n\t\thold.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tNo, no of course not. It's Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(regards her)\n\t\tYou want", "\n\n\tJoe slaps her hard across the face.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tYou think this was to hurt you?! My God,\n\t\tJoe. It isn't about you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?! You aborted our child?!\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI'm a monster. Exactly.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYou're not ready.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tDon't make allowances", "Y\n\t\tNot millions.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's directing now.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're paying him scale.\n\n\tThe CAMERA catches sight of Joe behind them. He moves\n\tthrough the foyer and into the living room with a tray of\n\tglasses and Judy in tow.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe gets huge advances on his novels.\n\t\tHe's going back to that. You know how he\n\t\thates", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand" ], [ "s worst idea.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tWhat's that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe neighbors from hell. The kind that\n\t\tlay in wait. I'd rather move actually.\n\t\tWouldn't I?\n\t\t\t(to Sally)\n\t\tWouldn't I?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(small smile)\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to the kids)\n\t\tOkay. Last one to find Otis is", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "pointing further up the\n\t\t\t property)\n\t\tI saw him wandering over there, I think.\n\t\tHow're you feeling, Clair?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm so good.\n\n\tShe kisses Joe and Cal, and goes off to find her husband.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tPoor Mac. It's been a bit of a struggle.\n\t\tI'm sure Sally's told you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNo, what?\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tYou think we should ask them for their\n\t\tlandscaper?\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHm. Do you like fucking out of doors?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tNot as a rule.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tThey didn't sign their goddamn tax\n\t\treturns!\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally stands at the threshold, watches Cal and Soph", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", "business managers?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey're not just our business managers,\n\t\tPanes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOh, okay, forgive me. Your neighbors are\n\t\there, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tExactly what I mean. It's all ruined.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's not ruined, for fuck's sake. It's\n\t\tone of your parties.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "a fucking\n\t\tfarce. It's a fucking farce. How long\n\t\tdid you think you could keep it going.\n\t\tYou're amazing. Do you have any idea\n\t\twhat you've done to us?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI'll never forgive you.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI have no idea who you are.\n\n\tThey stand their in silence.", ". You've got Gina. You've\n\t\tgot Skye? We're the leftovers.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay, knock it off.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tTruce?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tTruce.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tDinner.\n\t\t\t(on the move)\n\t\tDon't be angry.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tI'", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", ". And you should\n\t\tkeep him away from our yard. Because\n\t\tSheila will defend herself.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tRyan!\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(cuts off response from Joe; to\n\t\t\t Ryan)\n\t\tAre you working on a new book?\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\t\t(caught short; flattered)\n\t\tWell, yes, actually.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tHe always has two or three going...\n\n", "\n\t\tVery well put.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI think a lot of this could have been\n\t\tavoided if Sally made more of an effort.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tBut you're very private people. You\n\t\tknow, there's a kind of elitism...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tElitism?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tThe wrong word, maybe", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tPanes and Skye are fucking on Joe and Sally's bed. Sally\n\twalks in on them searching for Panes' ear, her best buddy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(resigned)\n\t\tOh perfect!\n\n\tEXT. BACKYARD LANDING - MEDIUM FULL SHOT\n\n\tJerry and Judy lie alongside each other, hands propping\n\theads. They aren't privy to anything that", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "E\n\t\tListen to yourself...\n\t\t\t(to Monica)\n\t\tDon't worry, it's alright. We'll find\n\t\thim.\n\t\t\t(to Sally)\n\t\tWhat's wrong with you?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(re: Monica)\n\t\tShe left the fucking gate open.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWell he can't have gone far.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tCan't have gone far? He's", "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "was\n\t\twide open.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh for fuck's sake. Nobody uses that\n\t\tgate.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(horrified)\n\t\tI'm sorry.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(raging)\n\t\tThere's a goddamn sign on the gate.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI'm so sorry.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou fucking cow, can't you read?!\n" ], [ "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", "\tNo, I don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(to Cal)\n\t\tCongratulations on the Academy Award.\n\t\tGreat performance. Really warranted.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHe thought so.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tSally always manages to get robbed.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a mortified grin)\n\t\tEnough about me.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tEvie has", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", ". CORRIDOR - CLOSE SHOT - SALLY\n\n\tShe backs up into the corridor mortified. Leans against the\n\twall.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's preposterous. You're free to do\n\t\twhatever you like.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V.\n\t\tYes, well, we'll see won't we?\n\n\t\t\tMAC (O", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "there.\n\n\tSally stands at the open door. Stunned. Watches Mac watch\n\ther. Watches herself, with a professional, acute eye. More\n\tcritical than Mac's could ever be.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (ON TV)\n\t\tI was faking it. I've been feeling caged\n\t\tfor sometime. Funny, huh?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(moans)\n\t\tNo, it's not... Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\n\n\tINT", "towards the doorway, Monica at his heals.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI need to leave you now.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI will treasure this.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(shouting down the hall)\n\t\tSally!!!!\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - LATER - DAY\n\n\tSally's team prepares clues for charades. Sally writes them\n\tdown, throws them in a bowler hat. Her teammates are Panes,\n\t", "\n\tSally shakes her head.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo. Did you?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(after a beat)\n\t\tNo. I missed that.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI missed all of you. We're okay, aren't\n\t\twe?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWe're great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI mean, you're really back.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "SALLY\n\t\t\t(slaps him)\n\t\tYou're a shit.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNo, really, five thousand with your\n\t\tdiscount.\n\n\tHe rolls out from under her swat, she misses him.\n\n\t\t\tPANES (CONT'D)\n\t\tYou hurt, you know. You're stronger than\n\t\tyou think.\n\n\tThey lie prone across the bed, about a foot apart.\n\tContemplating the floor.\n\n\t\t\tPAN", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?" ], [ "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "ulations on the deal. How\n\t\texciting. Is Sally doing Sally? I mean\n\t\tit's Sally. The character that's based\n\t\ton Sally. The character that's based on\n\t\tSally in the book.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe novel. No, Skye Davidson is playing\n\t\tthe lead.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tOh my God, I'm a huge Skye Davidson fan.\n\t\tShe's very beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t", "loved in\n\t\tmy entire life. Including my mother.\n\t\tThe character is also clearly in her\n\t\tearly twenties, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWhat are you saying?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHello? Last birthday was?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't look my age, Joe.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, I have never considered you for\n\t\tthis part because you are too old to play\n\t\tit. And you", "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "Y\n\t\tIt is true. You know how you love, Joe?\n\t\tYou dedicate a book to someone.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEvery novel I've had published in every\n\t\tlanguage I've dedicated to Lucy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tRight. And when was the last time you\n\t\tspoke to her?\n\n\tJoe is silent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tAnd how fucking dare you cast Skye\n\t\tDavidson in that part?", "\n\t\tIt could be worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHow?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tShe could be playing the role in Joe's\n\t\tmovie that should be yours.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tFuck you, Panes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tYou see, that's worse.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI just wanted tonight to be with the\n\t\tpeople we love.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tLike your", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", " Have you any idea\n\t\thow humiliating that is for me? I'm an\n\t\tactress! It's about our marriage for\n\t\tfuck's sake. Everybody knows that...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAbout me!\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho the fuck do you think you are? The\n\t\tpart of Genna is not just about you.\n\t\tIt's about every woman I've ever", "towards the doorway, Monica at his heals.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI need to leave you now.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI will treasure this.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(shouting down the hall)\n\t\tSally!!!!\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - LATER - DAY\n\n\tSally's team prepares clues for charades. Sally writes them\n\tdown, throws them in a bowler hat. Her teammates are Panes,\n\t", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", "\n\tSally shakes her head.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo. Did you?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(after a beat)\n\t\tNo. I missed that.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI missed all of you. We're okay, aren't\n\t\twe?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWe're great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI mean, you're really back.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "LOR through moving bodies. Tall,\n\tbeautiful, centered grace. She's got a Leica around her\n\tneck... drops her two large camera bags on the floor.\n\n\tSeveral of the other guests greet her, Mac among them.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE\n\n\tJoe sweeps her up to his arms. It's an intimate,\n\tappreciative embrace. Theirs was a mid-30s relationship,\n\tcertainly pre-Sally. Maybe his first important love.\n\n\t", "\n\n\n\tFADE IN:\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - JOE THERRIAN - MORNING\n\n\tHe's in his mid-thirties, his face relaxed in sleep,\n\tchildlike. Nestled soundly a tangle in the arms of his wife.\n\n\tTHE CAMERA STAYS CLOSE. SLIGHTLY BLURRED, SOFT, SLOWLY\n\tSWINGS ROUND\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY THERRIAN\n\n\tShe's in her" ], [ "again in three\n\t\tmonths.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIt must be nice having so many strangers\n\t\tkiss your ass all of a sudden.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOw! Gina, you obviously need to get\n\t\tfucked.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tJust did. Jealous?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhen does he graduate high school?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughing)\n\t\tOh, very jealous.\n\n\t", "\tJoe pulls Sally to him and wraps his arms around her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tSally's never even seen it. I thought\n\t\twe'd raise our kids there.\n\n\tSally held in Joe's arms, smiles. The cat who ate the\n\tcanary.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tHave I ever told you how Lucy and I\n\t\tnearly squashed each other getting into\n\t\tthe dumb waiter.\n\n\t\t\tGINA", "eyes on Joe.\n\n\tMEDIUM CLOSE - AMERICA\n\n\tShe watches the game from the archway, waits for a break.\n\tSky's up. Joe's team yells frantic guesses. Jerry's\n\tsuicidal.\n\n\tSally's team watches, self-satisfied, throw barbed asides.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(to Joe's look; innocence)\n\t\tI didn't say a word.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t", "at that again. If you're\n\t\tcoming from Laurel, you want to take\n\t\tSunset west, we're just past Will Rogers\n\t\tState Park. Three blocks west of that,\n\t\tyou want to hang right. It's about three\n\t\tquarters of a mile up a big white thing\n\t\ton the left.\n\n\tSally's started the bath, and is watching him from the\n\tdoorway. He meets her eyes mid-sentence.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n", "JOE\n\t\tYes, she is.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(trying harder)\n\t\tBut I am right, yes? She's based on\n\t\tSally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tIt's a novel.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tStill. Well. Let's drop it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tI'm not much of a reader, but I do love\n\t\t", "JOE\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tBut she's alright.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tShe's in ICU.\n\n\tJoe's legs give way. He sort of sits on the floor.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(laughs; shakes his head)\n\t\tStupid tart.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tShe left a note.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(realizes the import; to Gina)\n\t\tFuck you", "\n\tcovers his eyes with his hands.\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\t\t(sings)\n\t\tHappy anniversary to you. We're glad Joe\n\t\tcame home. Don't split up again. Cause\n\t\twe like the food.\n\n\tMuch laughter and clapping.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(in the archway)\n\t\tJack. Did you compose that yourself?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", ".\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYeah, I know... But she's only twenty\n\t\tseven and...\n\t\t\t(taps his head)\n\t\tThe wisdom. She's an old soul. She knew\n\t\tthat Shostakovich thing. Did you notice?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely. And she's got great tits.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYeah, God she really does have great\n\t\ttits, great tits. i can't wait to work", "Joe and Judy sit on opposite sides of the sofa -- slightly\n\tuncomfortable with each other.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(to fill the silence,\n\t\t\t conspiratorial grin)\n\t\tI love gifts. What did you guys get us?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(chokes on the champagne)\n\t\tNothing that can't be exchanged.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh. Well. Good.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tCongrat", "\t\tYou're not a man, Joe. You're a boy.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(childishly)\n\t\tSo?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tI love you, Joe Therrian.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(at a loss, small)\n\t\tMe too.\n\n\tSophia watches from across the living room.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tA", ", aren't you?\n\t\t\t(nods knowingly)\n\t\tI recognized you from the book jacket.\n\n\tJoe grins from ear to ear. Uncharacteristically star struck\n\tin front of this beauty.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tHow do you do, Skye?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh, I love that.\n\t\t\t(throws arms around him)\n\t\tI'm just great. I'm so happy to be here.\n\t\tAnd I apologize for invading you", "\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, first of all, you're talking\n\t\tbullshit. And second...\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou want to talk about bullshit? Lucy\n\t\tcalled you three times this week. She's\n\t\ta fucking mess, Joe. Your sister is a\n\t\tfucking mess. She needs you. I talk to\n\t\ther more than you do.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThat is not true.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", ". And\n\t\tI'm so happy you asked me to. I'm so\n\t\ttouched. I know how private you and\n\t\tSally are.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(uncomfortable)\n\t\tYeah, well, it's just us and a few\n\t\thundred of our closest friends.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(genuine)\n\t\tWhen I read your work I felt that you\n\t\tknew me. Women must tell you that. And", "Joe laughs.\n\n\t\t\tGINA (CONT'D)\n\t\tI saw Lucy when I was in London, she\n\t\tseems okay. It's hard to tell with her.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShit, I forgot to call her back. She's\n\t\toff on a trip somewhere. Oh God, my\n\t\tgrandad's flat in London's been sold.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIn Cheyene Walk? Lucy's going to have a\n\t\tm", " It's going.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAnd how's the diva doing?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWell, you know...good days, bad days.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI meant Sally.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(stops jumping, studies him)\n\t\tOh. You're serious.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(throws and arm around him)\n\t\tNo. No.\n", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "\tJOE\n\t\tAlright, good. Thanks for your trouble.\n\t\tSo will you leave Sally and me alone\n\t\tright now?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a shrug; simply)\n\t\tEverybody hates the messenger.\n\n\tGina exits.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI'm coming with you.\n\n\tJoe starts to cry. Sally holds him, kisses him, strokes him,\n\tro", " Joe is devastated. We hear\n\tSkye and Panes up ahead calling for Otis.\n\n\tINT. POOL - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSILENT UNDERWATER SHOTS\n\n\tOf Mac, Judy and Clair. Mac directs an underwater ballet, a\n\tla Esther Williams.\n\n\tThere's a sequence of TIGHT OVERLAPPING SHOTS of Mac,\n\tsmiling, swimming underwater. His image of himself... SLO-MO\n\tcompound", "of champagne.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tEasy tiger.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tAlright. Please don't tell Ryan I'm\n\t\tdrinking.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tScout's honor.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(grins)\n\t\tI'll be your best friend.\n\n\tShe feels they've bonded. She pulls a well-thumbed copy of\n\tJoe's novel from her purse.\n\n\t" ], [ "carries them back to the living\n\troom.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tEcstasy is passed from guest to guest. Ryan expects Monica\n\tto abstain.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(his glare; simply)\n\t\tI want to try it, Ryan.\n\n\tEXT. POOL - LATER\n\n\tThe drug has begun to take effect. The party is now in full\n\tswing. Music is playing, and Sophia and Clair are", "s hand, kisses her cheek.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(tears up)\n\t\tHappy anniversary. Thank you for making\n\t\tme a part of it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pours the pills into her hand)\n\t\tWhat are they?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(pleased, surprised)\n\t\tDolphins. Great.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's ecstasy, Sal.\n\n", "should all take it tonight.\n\t\tEveryone's staying, stays. No driving.\n\t\tThat's the rule. I love you Sally-Mae.\n\t\tYou're going to have a fabulous time.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI'm worried about my spine. I'm very\n\t\tworried about my brain and my spine.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\t\t(laughs)\n\t\tOh honey, you're gonna love it.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n", "'s happened.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tI call that a perfect day.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tA perfect night.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tDamn near.\n\t\t\t(long moment)\n\t\tAnd a damn near perfect drug.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tHm. We should do it again.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJust every once in a blue moon, you know.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tHm.\n", "look at the other guests.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tWhat happened?\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM\n\n\tGina closes the door.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe suspense is killing me.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHarry called.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(growing dread)\n\t\tAnd?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(there's now way to say it)\n\t\tLucy overdosed.\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\t\t fall)\n\t\tOh God, you're so lucky you don't have\n\t\tkids. You can't stick your head in the\n\t\toven. You can't take a handful of\n\t\tPercoden if you want to, or slit your\n\t\twrists. You can't do yourself in. Kids\n\t\trob you of that option. Trust me.\n\t\t\t(a beat)\n\t\tOh my God, this ecstacy must be really\n\t\tgood.\n\n\tEXT.", "only person who's ever taken ecstacy\n\t\tand become angrier.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYeah, let's talk about that. You seem to\n\t\tbe rather an expert. I don't remember in\n\t\tthe last five months of counselling your\n\t\tever mentioning ecstacy or going to rage\n\t\tparties.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tRave parties?! That's so typical - you\n\t\twould think it was called rage. Perfect!\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\tShould I go up?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tYou want us to stay?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMaybe not.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tSo much for ecstacy, right?\n\n\tThey all laugh a little.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tLet's get the kids.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tOh my God, the sitter.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "\n\t\tHi. Monica and Ryan?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tSally?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYes. And you've met Joe.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(a deep breath)\n\t\tWell, so glad you decided to come.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tWe could hardly say no.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh?\n\n\tJoe slips the coke", "ed by water-weight.\n\n\tThe drug has clearly taken effect. Mac opens his mouth to\n\tdirect his actors, forgets where he is, begins to choke, and\n\tcough, is clearly in trouble.\n\n\tOblivious, Judy and Clair turn somersaults.\n\n\tMac begins to panic. He is drowning.\n\n\tHe begins to sink. Panic gives way to acceptance.\n\n\tJerry's body flies past FRAME, splashes hard into the pool.\n\tThe LENS is water-", "\tReady to go?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI'm going to go get my swimsuit. I do\n\t\tknow, Ryan, this is non addictive so you\n\t\tmustn't worry.\n\t\t\t(turns back)\n\t\tRyan, you're a great man.\n\n\tThe CAMERA follows Monica along the side of the pool. She\n\tpasses Sophia and a very exuberant Clair.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays at the pool. Clair tears", "\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI think there are sixteen there.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(kisses Skye)\n\t\tThis is an amazing present. What a\n\t\tsweetheart you are.\n\n\tSkye's pleased she's made him happy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(regards Joe; to Skye)\n\t\tWhat a sweetheart you are.\n\n\tA pall descends on the party. There's a FULL SHOT of the\n\tgroup", "\tSALLY\n\t\tAre you lovesick?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tSuicidal. It's much less codependent.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWill champagne help?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNot enough.\n\n\tSally takes Panes into the living room where everyone chats,\n\tdrinks, smokes. They all like each other out of habit, if\n\tnothing else. Ryan and Monica are on the fringe, stand at\n\tthe edges of conversation", "SALLY\n\t\tWhat else don't I know about, Joe? Let's\n\t\tget really clear here.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, so I took a few pills. I went out\n\t\tdancing. I tried to forget how upset I\n\t\twas about splitting up with you. I\n\t\thaven't lied to you. I told you about\n\t\tthe people I've slept with. I just\n\t\tdidn't mention the few occasions I took\n\t\tdrugs because", "s just a\n\t\tlittle narcissistic, irresponsible and\n\t\tunreliable.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAnd Cal's this massive adult?\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tCal knows who he is. Did you notice how\n\t\thappy Joe was when the drugs came out\n\t\ttonight?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou weren't exactly horrified.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\t\t(laughing)\n\t\tI don", "?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm fine. I'm fine. Well, I'm a little\n\t\tstressed. And I've been taking pills to\n\t\tget my weight down since the baby.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI'd say it was down.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tAnd the doctor said they might make me a\n\t\tlittle jumpy. I've got a ghastly\n\t\theadache, actually.\n\n\t\t\tS", "hair. Studies their faces.\n\n\tEXT. POOLSIDE - JOE'S POV\n\n\tMonica sits on the steps of the pool. She looks frightened,\n\tuncomfortable.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tAre you okay?\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI don't think so. I feel. I feel a bit\n\t\tfunny.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tLet's go for a walk.\n\n\tHe puts his arm around her and leads her away from the", ". Nobody quite knows what to do. There's torn wrapping\n\tpaper all over the room.\n\n\t\t\tASTRID\n\t\t\t(Anouk still in her lap)\n\t\tIt's late.\n\t\t\t(kisses Anouk)\n\t\tYou sleepy baby?\n\n\tThere are awkward excuses. Some of the guests leave.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tThe core group remains.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI think we", "dancing.\n\n\tPeople are swimming, some naked, some in swimsuits. Judy\n\tfloats around the pool on an inflatable dog.\n\n\tSally and Skye cuddle together on one of the benches round\n\tthe pool, chatting; a friendly, feely touchy conversation.\n\tJoe passes around bottles of water and chewing gum to\n\teveryone, emceeing the event.\n\n\tEveryone is relaxed and open, except Ryan, who sits beside\n\tMonica at the edge of the garden, separated from the others" ], [ "?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tHere I am. Panes, my love!\n\n\tSally starts down the hallway.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(for Panes; a long supportive\n\t\t\t hug; a kiss)\n\t\tGood, you brought your violin. I want\n\t\tyou to play.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's a machine gun. I thought I'd kill\n\t\tmyself.\n\n\t\t", "\n\n\tHe strokes his beard again.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\t\t(blurts out)\n\t\tFrom Jewish Folk Poetry.\n\n\tJerry looks at her, amazed. She stands, throws hands up in\n\ttriumph, does a little victory circle.\n\n\tThe CAMERA CUTS through the rest of the game, aggressive,\n\tcompetitive, verging on hostile. Sally is often aching from\n\tlaughter, tears streaming down her face.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t", ". There's always someone at the\n\tpiano, and they can all pretty much play.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tPanes is here!\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(gives everyone a shy, pained\n\t\t\t little wave)\n\t\tOh great.\n\n\tEveryone stops, turns, toasts.\n\n\t\t\tEVERYONE\n\t\tPanes!\n\n\t\t\tMONICA/RYAN\n\t\t\t(a little late; into silence)\n\t\tPanes.", "Sophia, Mac, Ryan, Sanford and Jeffrey.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tPanes?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tFrom Jewish Folk Poetry, a song cycle...\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tTrust him.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's Shostakovich.\n\n\tRyan spots his book on the shelf and pulls it out, delighted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tSandy...\n", ".\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh my god. I've been so rude. I'm Skye\n\t\tDavidson. Has anyone ever told you, you\n\t\tlook like Peter Sellers?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tNo, never.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(overlapping Panes)\n\t\tEveryday.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tI'm Levi Panes. ", ", the Jewish milkmaid who\n\t\tgets shot in the head, and they used\n\t\tShostakovich's 13th Symphony.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tSet to the poem of Yetveshenko!\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tExactly! So I dug it, and I did a lot of\n\t\tresearch.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tDo you really, you really, like\n\t\tShostakovich?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tYeah.", "\n\tcovers his eyes with his hands.\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\t\t(sings)\n\t\tHappy anniversary to you. We're glad Joe\n\t\tcame home. Don't split up again. Cause\n\t\twe like the food.\n\n\tMuch laughter and clapping.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(in the archway)\n\t\tJack. Did you compose that yourself?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t", "canyon, we should go\n\t\ttowards the PCH.\n\n\tEXT. CANYON - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tPanes and Skye search the canyon for Otis. They both carry\n\tlanterns.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOtis!! Shostakovich identified with the\n\t\tJew. He felt persecuted, hunted, crushed\n\t\tunder the thumb of Stalinist imperialism.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tNot to mention Andrew Z", "\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tThe charades.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tThat was my clue.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tOh?\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tThe Shostakovich.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tReally??\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(does Seller's Indian)\n\t\tOh yes, indeed. That was my clue, you\n\t\tsee", "mid-thirties, with large deep eyes. She watches\n\ther husband unguarded in sleep. Her pretty face, alert,\n\tshe's barely breathing. Traces the just visible lines around\n\this eyes, and mouth. Brushes fingertips against his\n\teyelashes.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SALLY'S HAND PULLS THE BEDROOM SHADE.\n\n\tIt retracts with a loud WHACK, sun, sky, trees.\n\n\t\t\tSTEVEN (O.S.)", ".\n\n\tEvie stands against the far wall. She wears a helmet and is\n\tsurrounded by toy suction arrows. The arrows make a perfect\n\toutline of her head and body. Jack stands three feet away,\n\tbow in hand -- the archer prepares his next shot.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM\n\n\tCal is at the piano, charming the neighbors. Judy chats with\n\tMac. Jerry is on his cellphone, holding his Palm Pilot, his\n\thand pressed against his ear to", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", "s amazed at the solid grip.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's a novelist.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tAh.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tLike Joe.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tHmm.\n\t\t\t(to Sally)\n\t\tWhere are my kids?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIn the guest room. I've laid out a paint\n\t\ttable for them.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\t", ".\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYeah, I know... But she's only twenty\n\t\tseven and...\n\t\t\t(taps his head)\n\t\tThe wisdom. She's an old soul. She knew\n\t\tthat Shostakovich thing. Did you notice?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAbsolutely. And she's got great tits.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYeah, God she really does have great\n\t\ttits, great tits. i can't wait to work", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", "\t\t\t(to her Look)\n\t\tSophia's going to do it, Panes is going\n\t\tto do it, trust me.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tCal carries the envelope into the room.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\t\t(on seeing America, bursts\n\t\t\t into)\n\t\tAmerica, America God shed his light on\n\t\tme.\n\n\tHe dances her around the kitchen, he picks up the sterling\n\tdish, arranges the pills,", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "And so fucking... serene. Just\n\t\tfucking don't tell her. Because you know\n\t\tMac thinks she's God. And I can feel him\n\t\tcomparing.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou need to knock off the pills, Clair.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tJust don't fucking tell her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's not going to come up.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - LEVI PANES THROUGH THE", "a deep breath, let\n\t\tyour ribs expand and relax. And reach up\n\t\tand into downward dog.\n\n\tOtis, the Bisenji/Sheperd mix, sleeping on his leopard\n\tpillow, stirs, stretches and groans.\n\n\t\t\tJOE AND SALLY\n\t\tGood boy, Otis.\n\n\tThe phone RINGS again.\n\n\t\t\tVOICE (O.S.)\n\t\t\t(over answering machine)\n\t\tHello, I have Dr. Harmon calling", "\t\tWith a \"Z.\" K. A. T. Z.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tWhen the Pawn Hits the Conflicts He\n\t\tThinks Like a King What He Knows...\n\n\tPeople hoot, throw their cocktail napkins.\n\n\t\t\tGINA (CONT'D)\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tUtopia Parkway...\n\n\tThey all start talking on top of each other again.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - LATER\n\n" ], [ "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI think there are sixteen there.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(kisses Skye)\n\t\tThis is an amazing present. What a\n\t\tsweetheart you are.\n\n\tSkye's pleased she's made him happy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(regards Joe; to Skye)\n\t\tWhat a sweetheart you are.\n\n\tA pall descends on the party. There's a FULL SHOT of the\n\tgroup", "look at the other guests.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tWhat happened?\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM\n\n\tGina closes the door.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe suspense is killing me.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHarry called.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(growing dread)\n\t\tAnd?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(there's now way to say it)\n\t\tLucy overdosed.\n\n\t\t\t", "TINUOUS\n\n\tIt's empty but for glasses, wrapping paper, abandoned dishes\n\tof leftover cake.\n\n\tINT. EMPTY KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tINT. GUEST BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tThe bed is rumpled and indented from the sleeping children.\n\tTheir drawings and paints strewn all over the floor...and\n\tWalls.\n\n\tINT. EMPTY DEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tINT. MA", ". Nobody quite knows what to do. There's torn wrapping\n\tpaper all over the room.\n\n\t\t\tASTRID\n\t\t\t(Anouk still in her lap)\n\t\tIt's late.\n\t\t\t(kisses Anouk)\n\t\tYou sleepy baby?\n\n\tThere are awkward excuses. Some of the guests leave.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tThe core group remains.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI think we", "four...\n\n\tClair wanders up. She's changed into her own clothes.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI've lost my husband and my beeper. Have\n\t\teither of you seen either of them?\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - LATER\n\n\tClair, Mac, Sophia, Cal and Gina are waiting. The overnight\n\tbag rests near the coffee table. No one speaks.\n\n\tThere are sounds of the search party approaching.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n", "carries them back to the living\n\troom.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tEcstasy is passed from guest to guest. Ryan expects Monica\n\tto abstain.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\t\t(his glare; simply)\n\t\tI want to try it, Ryan.\n\n\tEXT. POOL - LATER\n\n\tThe drug has begun to take effect. The party is now in full\n\tswing. Music is playing, and Sophia and Clair are", "dancing.\n\n\tPeople are swimming, some naked, some in swimsuits. Judy\n\tfloats around the pool on an inflatable dog.\n\n\tSally and Skye cuddle together on one of the benches round\n\tthe pool, chatting; a friendly, feely touchy conversation.\n\tJoe passes around bottles of water and chewing gum to\n\teveryone, emceeing the event.\n\n\tEveryone is relaxed and open, except Ryan, who sits beside\n\tMonica at the edge of the garden, separated from the others", "\tPanes, Skye, Sally and Joe come into the room dogless.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat is it?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tLet's go upstairs, okay?\n\n\tJoe looks from Gina to the others.\n\n\t\t\tGINA (CONT'D)\n\t\tLet's go upstairs.\n\n\tThey move out of the room.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(on the way upstairs)\n\t\tIs it Otis?\n\n\tSkye and Panes", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "canyon, we should go\n\t\ttowards the PCH.\n\n\tEXT. CANYON - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tPanes and Skye search the canyon for Otis. They both carry\n\tlanterns.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOtis!! Shostakovich identified with the\n\t\tJew. He felt persecuted, hunted, crushed\n\t\tunder the thumb of Stalinist imperialism.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tNot to mention Andrew Z", "m not fucking angry, for God's sake.\n\n\t\tEXT. POOL AREA - MAGIC HOUR\n\n\tEvie and Jake run along the side of the house. Behind the\n\tglass walls the CAMERA catches adults moving through the\n\tliving room and into the dining room.\n\n\tINT. DINING ROOM - MAGIC HOUR\n\n\tMost everyone's moved through to the dining room. The table\n\tis filled with platters of beautifully prepared food.\n\tCandles, flowers.\n\n\tA", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", ". There's always someone at the\n\tpiano, and they can all pretty much play.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tPanes is here!\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(gives everyone a shy, pained\n\t\t\t little wave)\n\t\tOh great.\n\n\tEveryone stops, turns, toasts.\n\n\t\t\tEVERYONE\n\t\tPanes!\n\n\t\t\tMONICA/RYAN\n\t\t\t(a little late; into silence)\n\t\tPanes.", ")\n\t\tOh whatever. We don't want that to\n\t\thappen, do we?\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\tNo?\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tIt's a rottweiler, actually.\n\t\t\t(to Jack)\n\t\tI don't think our rottweiler is in any\n\t\tdanger, Jack.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWell, Jack and I are very relieved.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tI thought this was a party. Are we", "\t\tHow's he doing?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNot good.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHe's gonna miss his flight.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYeah.\n\n\tAl the guests are a little stunned.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIs he not going? I booked a flight.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's not going tonight.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tI told his father he'd be on that flight.\n", "\t\tShould I go up?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tI don't think so.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tYou want us to stay?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMaybe not.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tSo much for ecstacy, right?\n\n\tThey all laugh a little.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tLet's get the kids.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tOh my God, the sitter.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n", "\n\n\tThey step out onto the porch. Judy's left alone, unsure\n\twhether to follow or not.\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\t\t(finally, to no one, and to no\n\t\t\t response)\n\t\tThe house looks beautiful, are those\n\t\thydrangeas?\n\n\tShe stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.\n\n\tEXT. PORCH - CONTINUOUS\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tJoe officially owns No. 4, Che", ".\n\n\tSally's uncomfortable, a little jealous... feels intrusive.\n\tAware that Gina got there first. Knew him when. And always\n\tcaptures something naked and vulnerable in his face.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\n\tINT. GUEST ROOM - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tIn the center of the room a low table with paints and crayons\n\tand glue and baubles. Two child size chairs either side.\n\tEmpty, the table hasn't been touched", "business managers?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey're not just our business managers,\n\t\tPanes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOh, okay, forgive me. Your neighbors are\n\t\there, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tExactly what I mean. It's all ruined.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's not ruined, for fuck's sake. It's\n\t\tone of your parties.\n\n\t\t\tSALL" ], [ "\tSALLY\n\t\tWho? Who? Who thinks that?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tYour director and your co-star of your\n\t\tcurrent movie. Don't dish if you can't\n\t\ttake it, Sally.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tMac? Mac says it? Cal?\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tCal, too?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tSally, for Christ's", "CAL\n\t\tThe movie.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOh, she's really enjoying it. I think.\n\t\tIs Mac okay?\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tI don't know what's going on. I don't\n\t\tcare to guess. Mac's really unhappy.\n\t\tShe isn't there, that's all. She's no\n\t\tidea what she's playing, not a clue.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho, Sally?\n\n\t\t\t", ". CORRIDOR - CLOSE SHOT - SALLY\n\n\tShe backs up into the corridor mortified. Leans against the\n\twall.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's preposterous. You're free to do\n\t\twhatever you like.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V.\n\t\tYes, well, we'll see won't we?\n\n\t\t\tMAC (O", "CAL\n\t\tAnd, you know it isn't rocket science,\n\t\tthis script. She can barely get the\n\t\tlines out. There was a scene last week -\n\t\tshe sobbed, through every take. I know\n\t\tcrying's easy for her but it's a fucking\n\t\tcomedy, Joe. Something's gone. You\n\t\tknow, that thing that was Sally - that\n\t\talways surprised you. It's gone. I\n\t\tthink she's scared. And that", "never like to talk about my work.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tAlright. Well, that's something new.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNo. Not something new.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tWell, something's wrong.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tNothing's wrong. It's great, okay?\n\t\tHaving the time of my life. Mac's a\n\t\tfantastic director. And what can anyone\n\t\tsay about Cal that hasn", "Y\n\t\tNot millions.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's directing now.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tThey're paying him scale.\n\n\tThe CAMERA catches sight of Joe behind them. He moves\n\tthrough the foyer and into the living room with a tray of\n\tglasses and Judy in tow.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe gets huge advances on his novels.\n\t\tHe's going back to that. You know how he\n\t\thates", "\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tYou think we should ask them for their\n\t\tlandscaper?\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\tHm. Do you like fucking out of doors?\n\n\t\t\tJUDY\n\t\tNot as a rule.\n\n\t\t\tJERRY\n\t\t\t(a long moment)\n\t\tThey didn't sign their goddamn tax\n\t\treturns!\n\n\tEXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally stands at the threshold, watches Cal and Soph", "CUT TO:\n\n\tJeffrey's on his feet, giving the clue.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S TEAM\n\t\t\t(unison)\n\t\tQuote. Play.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA\n\t\tOh shit. It's one of Cal's. Obscure\n\t\tShakespeare, folks.\n\n\tCal gives her a little wave from the other side.\n\n\t\t\tSOPHIA (CONT'D)\n\t\t\t(calls over to him)\n\t\tMaybe", ". Stops watching...\n\n\tINT. MOVIE SET\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tYou sing like a bird.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S.)\n\t\tA bird with dropsy. A caged bird. That\n\t\thasn't long to live.\n\n\t\t\tCAL'S VOICE FROM THE T.V. (O.S)\n\t\tYou seem so alive up", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tIt's a Calder.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI know.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHe's my favorite.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI know. It's for the baby's crib.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAh...\n\n\tShe hands him a small wooden box. He opens it, takes out a\n\tset of keys.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (CONT'D)\n\t\tThey're", "\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. If we could've, by some miracle,\n\t\tstripped ten years off your face, still\n\t\tcouldn't have got the thing made.\n\t\tBecause I don't mean anything as a\n\t\tdirector, and your name doesn't mean fuck\n\t\tall anymore. And the people that can\n\t\thire you are afraid to, because they\n\t\tthink you're phoning it in. That you\n\t\tdon't have... Oh Christ, Sally.\n\n\t\t", "'s death.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI still think she sails above the rest.\n\t\tI mean not like her early films. But\n\t\tthose were all such great directors.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tMac's a pretty great director, Joe. He's\n\t\ta woman's director. And nothing's\n\t\thappening. Course he won't fire her,\n\t\tbecause of the friendship... But it was\n\t\tdiscussed. He had to battle his studio\n\t", "'s twenty-eight, Cal.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tScratch the two, write in a four.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tScratch the two, write in a four.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tYou've got a lot of fucking gall. Thirty\n\t\tnine.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tFive years ago, I was at the party,\n\t\tremember?\n\n\tJoe looks up and sees Sally standing in the sun room. He\n\tblows her a", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", "pointing further up the\n\t\t\t property)\n\t\tI saw him wandering over there, I think.\n\t\tHow're you feeling, Clair?\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI'm so good.\n\n\tShe kisses Joe and Cal, and goes off to find her husband.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tPoor Mac. It's been a bit of a struggle.\n\t\tI'm sure Sally's told you.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tNo, what?\n\n\t\t\t", " My\n\t\tleading man is on time for once.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\t\t(at the piano)\n\t\tThose who can't direct.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tFuck you.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA\n\n\tMac and Cal sit on the porch sharing a joint. Cal is maybe\n\tthe only living complete works of Shakespeare and pulls out\n\this most arcane quotes on occasion.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tAre those our dailies? You're totally\n\t\toutrageous", "there.\n\n\tSally stands at the open door. Stunned. Watches Mac watch\n\ther. Watches herself, with a professional, acute eye. More\n\tcritical than Mac's could ever be.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (ON TV)\n\t\tI was faking it. I've been feeling caged\n\t\tfor sometime. Funny, huh?\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\t\t(moans)\n\t\tNo, it's not... Fuck fuck fuck fuck.\n\n\tINT", "towards the doorway, Monica at his heals.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI need to leave you now.\n\n\t\t\tMONICA\n\t\tI will treasure this.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(shouting down the hall)\n\t\tSally!!!!\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - LATER - DAY\n\n\tSally's team prepares clues for charades. Sally writes them\n\tdown, throws them in a bowler hat. Her teammates are Panes,\n\t", "\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWell you could tell him otherwise. It\n\t\twas good of you to be all this help. But\n\t\the doesn't want to go tonight.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tJesus, Sally. I'm not the enemy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tAnd you're not the wife.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tIt's not a contest.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tDamn straight.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n" ], [ ", hold on.\n\t\t\t(she looks at Joe)\n\t\tJust a moment.\n\t\t\t(puts the call on hold)\n\t\tIt's Skye Davidson. She needs directions\n\t\tto the house. You invited Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson to our anniversary party?\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tOkay. I'm sorry, look, I meant to tell\n\t\tyou. It was the only chance I had to\n\t\tmeet her.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tYou", "For good.\n\n\tThey begin to make love...the phone RINGS.\n\n\t\t\tJOE (CONT'D)\n\t\tDon't get it.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tWell, it might be Clair. They're\n\t\tthreatening not to come...\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey can't find a sitter...\n\t\t\t(into the receiver)\n\t\tHello? Excuse me? Yes, uh", "We see\n\tthem brought up short by the gloom, but hear nothing.\n\n\tINT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tSally and Joe are at the table, signing their tax returns.\n\tJerry supervising. All is quiet. Judy's sunk into a chair.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tMorning's finally come. Light fills the room, empty except\n\tfor party debris.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - CON", "business managers?\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tThey're not just our business managers,\n\t\tPanes.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tOh, okay, forgive me. Your neighbors are\n\t\there, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tExactly what I mean. It's all ruined.\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\tIt's not ruined, for fuck's sake. It's\n\t\tone of your parties.\n\n\t\t\tSALL", "\n\n\tINT. FOYER - EARLY EVENING\n\n\tThe house is filled with exquisite flower arrangements,\n\tcandles everywhere.\n\n\tJERRY and JUDY ADAMS are on the porch, just beyond the glass\n\tof the front door. Their argument is inaudible. They're in\n\ttheir mid-thirties, conservatively dressed. She's stunning,\n\tgenetically nervous. Jerry carries a briefcase. She's got\n\tthe gift.\n\n\tSally opens", "invited her to our anniversary party?\n\t\tI didn't even invite my mother.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tShe goes on location tomorrow. Sally,\n\t\tI'm sorry. Look, I can't keep her on\n\t\thold.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(pissed)\n\t\tNo, no of course not. It's Skye fucking\n\t\tDavidson, for fuck's sake.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(regards her)\n\t\tYou want", "sounds of the party below are\n\tmuted.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY (O.S.)\n\t\tOh Warren, that was awful, I can't sing.\n\n\tThe CAMERA stays with Sally as she gets to her feet, walks\n\talong the corridor, toward the sound of her voice.\n\n\tINT. DAILIES ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tMac is on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees, staring at\n\tthe television screen - watching his dailies. At some point\n\the drops his head", "\n\n\tGina sets the photo on the desk, leans it up against the\n\twall. Joe and Sally's faces stare out of it.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(picks up receiver)\n\t\tHarry, hi, it's Gina! Gina. Is\n\t\teverything alright?\n\t\t\t(a deep intake of breath)\n\t\tOh my God. When? He's not here.\n\t\tThey're out looking for Otis. The dog,\n\t\tH", "look at the other guests.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tWhat happened?\n\n\tINT. MASTER BEDROOM\n\n\tGina closes the door.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tThe suspense is killing me.\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\tHarry called.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(growing dread)\n\t\tAnd?\n\n\t\t\tGINA\n\t\t\t(there's now way to say it)\n\t\tLucy overdosed.\n\n\t\t\t", "four...\n\n\tClair wanders up. She's changed into her own clothes.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\tI've lost my husband and my beeper. Have\n\t\teither of you seen either of them?\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - LATER\n\n\tClair, Mac, Sophia, Cal and Gina are waiting. The overnight\n\tbag rests near the coffee table. No one speaks.\n\n\tThere are sounds of the search party approaching.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n", "for\n\t\tSally Therrian.\n\n\tSally jumps out of the down dog position and runs to the\n\tphone, all angles.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tHello, hi, hi...and? Thank God.\n\n\tSally stands with the phone to her ear, her back to Joe.\n\n\tEXT. POOL AREA - CONTINUOUS\n\n\tJoe watches her from his position, not concentrating on the\n\tteacher waiting a sign. Sally returns to the lesson. They\n\tdo their hand", ".\n\t\tI lo--\n\n\tThe machine cuts her off.\n\n\tNEW ANGLE\n\n\tJoe and Sally have resumed their positions. This wasn't the\n\tcall they were waiting for.\n\n\tWIDE SHOT\n\n\tAMERICA, forty-one, and ROSA, fifty, struggle up the steps of\n\tthe back porch carrying grocery bags and packages, come\n\tthrough the sliding glass door...\n\n\tTHE CAMERA FOLLOWS THEM\n\n\tThrough the dining room and into the kitchen,", "\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tI think there are sixteen there.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(kisses Skye)\n\t\tThis is an amazing present. What a\n\t\tsweetheart you are.\n\n\tSkye's pleased she's made him happy.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\t\t(regards Joe; to Skye)\n\t\tWhat a sweetheart you are.\n\n\tA pall descends on the party. There's a FULL SHOT of the\n\tgroup", "\n\n\tPanes gives them another little wave. Doorbell rings.\n\n\tTIGHT CLOSE - SKYE DAVIDSON\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tHi.\n\n\tShe's the young, beautiful actress who'll play the lead in\n\tJoe's film.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\t\t(his face lights up)\n\t\tSkye!\n\n\tShe's in jeans, but somehow looks dressed to the 9s.\n\n\t\t\tSKYE\n\t\tYou're Joe", ". There's always someone at the\n\tpiano, and they can all pretty much play.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tPanes is here!\n\n\t\t\tPANES\n\t\t\t(gives everyone a shy, pained\n\t\t\t little wave)\n\t\tOh great.\n\n\tEveryone stops, turns, toasts.\n\n\t\t\tEVERYONE\n\t\tPanes!\n\n\t\t\tMONICA/RYAN\n\t\t\t(a little late; into silence)\n\t\tPanes.", ". Nobody quite knows what to do. There's torn wrapping\n\tpaper all over the room.\n\n\t\t\tASTRID\n\t\t\t(Anouk still in her lap)\n\t\tIt's late.\n\t\t\t(kisses Anouk)\n\t\tYou sleepy baby?\n\n\tThere are awkward excuses. Some of the guests leave.\n\n\tINT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER\n\n\tThe core group remains.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tI think we", "\n\t\t\t(wants to say \"don't call me\n\t\t\t sport\")\n\t\tYeah, thanks pal.\n\n\t\t\tCLAIR\n\t\t\t(helpless)\n\t\tHoney?\n\n\tThey all stand around watching him. Mac gets up.\n\n\t\t\tMAC\n\t\tI'm fine, babe. I'm gonna take a little\n\t\twalk. I need a minute. Let's forget it.\n\t\tMy life didn't pass in front of my eyes.\n\t\tSo", "\tINT. BEDROOM - LATER\n\n\tThe doorbell rings. There are two closed doors on either\n\tside of the room. The bed shows no sign of consummated sex.\n\tJoe comes through the left hand door, nearly dressed.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWho the fuck can be here at this time?\n\t\tIt's not even seven!\n\n\tSally comes through the other door, one shoe off, one on.\n\n\t\t\tSALLY\n\t\tOh Jesus, who else is always early for", "'s twenty-eight, Cal.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tScratch the two, write in a four.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tScratch the two, write in a four.\n\n\t\t\tCAL\n\t\tYou've got a lot of fucking gall. Thirty\n\t\tnine.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tFive years ago, I was at the party,\n\t\tremember?\n\n\tJoe looks up and sees Sally standing in the sun room. He\n\tblows her a", ")\n\t\tOh whatever. We don't want that to\n\t\thappen, do we?\n\n\t\t\tJACK\n\t\tNo?\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tIt's a rottweiler, actually.\n\t\t\t(to Jack)\n\t\tI don't think our rottweiler is in any\n\t\tdanger, Jack.\n\n\t\t\tJOE\n\t\tWell, Jack and I are very relieved.\n\n\t\t\tRYAN\n\t\tI thought this was a party. Are we" ] ]

[ "Why doesn't Joe think Sally should be lead in the screen adaptation of his novel?", "Who is going to play the lead role that Sally wants?", "Who is Jeffrey?", "Who is Sally's co-star?", "Why do Sally and Joe invite the Roses?", "Why is Sally troubled by Gina Taylor?", "Who provides the estasy?", "Who calls Joe about his sister Lucy?", "Who is celebrating their anniversary?", "What anniversary are the couple celebrating?", "What is Joe's occupation?", "What is Sally's occupation?", "Who is cast in the role Sally feels is hers?", "What nieghbors did Sally and Joe invite to dispel animosity?", "What was Skye's gift?", "Who disappears at the end of the story?", "Who calls with tragic news at the end of the story?", "Why won't Joe cast Sally in his new project?", "Why are Sally and Joe fighting with their neighbors?", "Who is Sally's costar?", "Who plays the part in Joe's new project that is based on Sally?", "What college did Joe attend?", "What drug do the partygoers decide to take?", "What instrument does Levi play?", "Who goes missing during the party?", "Who is directing Sally and Cal's current project?", "Who calls during the party?" ]

[ [ "He thinks she is too old for the part", "He feels she is too old for the part" ], [ "Skye Davidson", "Syke Davidson" ], [ "Joe's roommate/lover from Oxford", "Joe's roommate and lover. " ], [ "Cal Gold", "Cal Gold" ], [ "To end the animosity between them", "To dispel the simmering animosity." ], [ "Joe had a previous relationship with Gina and they are still close friends", "because of her ongoing close relationship with Joe" ], [ "Skye gives it to Joe and Sally as a gift", "Skye" ], [ "Joe's father", "Joe's Father" ], [ "Sally Nash and Joe Therrian", "Sally Nash and Joe Therrian" ], [ "Their sixth wedding anneversary", "Sixth wedding anniversary" ], [ "A novelist", "novelist" ], [ "An actress", "actress" ], [ "Skye Davidson", "Skye Davidson. " ], [ "The Roses", "The Roses" ], [ "ecstasy", "ecstacy" ], [ "Otis the dog", "Otis" ], [ "Joe's father", "Joe's father" ], [ "He feels she's too old for the part", "She's too old." ], [ "Their dog won't stop barking.", "barking dog " ], [ "Cal Gold", "Cal Gold" ], [ "Skye Davidson", "Cal Gold " ], [ "Oxford", "oxford" ], [ "Ecstasy", "ecstacy" ], [ "violin", "violin" ], [ "Otis", "Otis" ], [ "Mac", "Joe Therrian" ], [ "Joe's father", "Joe's father." ] ]

[ [ " hospital. How do you know that?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I looked it up.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n Then he remembers -- understanding with a chill that what she\n is saying could entirely be true.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I gave you my dog tags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, you didn't. They found William\n Starks' body dead", "ride or something.\n [Beat] Let her throw it all up before\n she gets back behind the wheel.\n\n \n STARKS' DOG TAGS are tied to the ZIPPER of one of his bags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What're those?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Dog tags. [Off her blank look]\n They've got your name and date of\n birth for identification.\n\n \n\n ", "EFFECTS in the room on her mantle. He walks\n towards them, tripping slightly on a CORD from the LIGHTS. He\n stumbles but regains his balance by reaching for the wall.\n\n \n As he pulls himself up, he spots what is only inches away\n from where his hand landed on the wall: HIS OWN DOG TAGS,\n given to Jackie, only a couple weeks ago, hanging from a\n single NAIL tacked into the wall.\n\n \n Stunned, he stares at", ".\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll leave. But look at me. Look at\n my face, Jackie. I'm not lying. I met\n you and your mother. I told you then\n that I'd lost my memory. [Beat] There\n was no one for miles around so I know\n you know there's no way I could have\n known that from a pair of dog tags\n you had lying around.\n\n \n\n JACKIE", "is at the bar ordering a\n drink from the BARTENDER. As he gets his DRINK, he slaps a\n BILL down on the counter and turns around to survey the bar...\n\n INT. JACKIE'S ROOM, JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, EVENING, 1992\n\n\n \n JACKIE rummages in a box of her personal belongings, looking\n for something specific in them. She stops finally when she\n finds STARKS' DOG TAGS. She takes", "JACKIE'S APARTMENT, NIGHT\n\n\n \n STARKS tenderly lays her down on the bed...\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JACKIE'S APARTMENT, NIGHT\n\n\n \n STARKS picks up his DOG TAGS from the console, looks around,\n spots the TELEVISION and fumbles a bit as he figures out how\n to turn it on. STARKS sits down, throws back the rest of\n JACKIE'S DRINK", "JACKIE\n What for?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] In case you get lost, or can't\n remember who you are.\n\n \n JACKIE [Still looking at them]\n Hm.\n\n \n STARKS unties them and gives them to her. She reads them.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I think I can remember what's on\n them.\n\n \n\n ", " \n\n STARKS\n Your mom take anything before this\n happened?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Yeah, but I don't know what.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What's your name?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Jackie.\n\n \n JACKIE decidedly sticks out her gloved hand. STARKS smiles\n and briefly shakes it. STARKS rubs a hand", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his", ", come on, let's tag these\n guys and get them out of here.\n\n \n An INTERN, clipboard in hand, stands above STARKS' unmoving\n body with another INTERN (2) beside him. INTERN 1 pulls\n the rest of the SHEET off of STARKS as the OTHER searches for\n his DOG TAGS and gently closes his EYES with her hand.\n\n \n INTERN #2 [Reading from the TAGS]\n Starks,", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "hospital'll figure out what to\n do with him.\n\n \n As the INTERN puts the TAGS back down, she meets STARKS' wide-\n open EYES -- now filled with surfacing tears, sadness, and life.\n She stares at them curiously and, after some seconds, STARKS\n blinks and a TEAR runs down his cheek -- jarring her.\n\n \n INTERN #2 [Calling out]\n Oh my God! This soldier is ALIVE!\n ", "I'm William Starks. I'm not his son.\n And...and the kid you work with.\n Your friend's son...Eugene...\n\n \n LORENSON is stilled by the words STARKS just spoke.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I know. I know it all. Save your\n strength. I already know everything\n you're going to say. [Beat] You're in\n the Jacket right now, aren't you?", "No, no. [Beat] Not yet. But he\n doesn't have long. Are you sure you\n don't want a doctor to look at him?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No! It won't do any good. [Beat]\n Please, Claire. They won't\n understand.\n\n \n CLAIRE acquiesces with her eyes.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n ", "you\n wait till then?\n\n \n\n EXT. RAVINE, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n STARKS and JACKIE smoke in the cold, standing next to the\n hood of her car.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n The Jacket. That's what they call it,\n right?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yeah.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n ", "still exists. I looked\n it up on the net. We should go there\n and see if there's still anyone\n around who might have known what\n happened to you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n If they don't take me out before\n then. [As an afterthought] What's the\n net?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him and laughs.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "What year is it?\n She SHOOTS UP from the sink, staring at her reflection.\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JACKIE'S APARTMENT, SECONDS LATER\n\n\n \n JACKIE spots STARKS asleep on the couch -- newspaper strewn\n all around him and the TV still on. He's holding the TAGS.\n\n \n She kneels down close to his face and stares at him for\n awhile before STARKS is jarred. He defens", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING" ], [ "S sees as the world comes into focus is\n NURSE HARDING'S. Around it loom those of DR. BECKER, DR.\n GRIES and DAMON.\n\n \n A shot of the room shows a constraint-ridden apparatus\n hanging sternly on the wall. It is THE JACKET: an apparatus\n designed to encase a man's body. Made of coarse, sickly-\n stained red ands brown canvas and velcro restraints that would\n first chafe, then forever burn,", "he was trying out\n behavior modification treatments that\n were banned back in the 70s -- \"womb\n treatment\" is the name he gave to\n what he did to you...\n\n \n STARKS [Cutting in]\n Womb? A fuckin' womb? What kind of\n animal did he come out of?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n But no one knew until after...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n After I", "\n STARKS\n You have no idea what's going on.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n No, I do. That's what I'm saying to\n you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Listen to me! You don't! The Jacket\n is my only chance in this place.\n\n \n LORENSON just thinks it's another delusion.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", "It was banned, you know... and it led\n to an investigation of Dr. Becker's\n mistreatment of some of his patients.\n That's when they found out how badly\n he was drugging his patients...\n\n \n STARKS [Starting to make sense]\n So he was giving me all kinds of\n drugs...\n\n \n JACKIE [Nodding]\n Apparently. He was taking a lot of\n them, too. It said", "\n BECKER\n Mr. Starks, this session is for our\n civil patients. Damon, please take\n Mr. Starks back to his ward.\n STARKS cuts him off and threatens with his gaze.\n\n \n STARKS [Derisively]\n No. Please, Dr. Becker. You can strap\n me in a Jacket or even gag me, but\n please don't leave me out of therapy.\n This is where I feel like I", "ER [As if stunned by the question]\n Leaving him in? [Beat] The medication\n I'm given him is intended to adjust --\n maybe even reset -- his violent\n proclivities. You know, peel away\n some of those layers of hate. The\n Jacket's merely a safe place for that\n to happen. The grounds and the halls --\n where I can't monitor side effects I\n can't predict -- aren't.\n\n \n ", "'m crazy.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You're not crazy.\n\n \n STARKS is surprised by Lorenson's agreement.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You suffer from delusional disorder.\n That doesn't mean you're... crazy. It\n just means you're confused. And\n you're here, instead of in jail,\n because that was determined to have\n played a role in your killing of a\n", "me in there.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n In where?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Uncertainly] In that thing...the\n Jacket.\n\n \n The NURSE gives Becker a knowing look -- suggesting Starks\n really is delusional. Becker doesn't even flinch as STARKS\n tries to get a better look at Becker's face.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n We were forced to", "girl. [Beat] His lawyers asked me\n to have a look at him because, after\n his deeds were done... he climbed\n into the trees of the forest where he\n killed her and woofed like a dog. He\n couldn't even remember his name when\n I spoke to him, but, curiously\n enough, he could speak back. [Beat]\n Ted never went to prison because\n everyone -- including me -- was\n convinced he was sick. So he came\n here", "No, I don't have anything to show\n you. I'm here from a mental hospital.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Well, you belong in one.\n\n \n STARKS [Solemnly]\n [Beat] You and your mom were in a\n truck and she kept a rifle in the\n back of it...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Stop it! Stop it!\n JACKIE covers her ears and looks at him", "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", "mean, I\n was weak, I was cruel so she left, I\n didn't plan it, didn't see it...FINE!\n\n \n MACKENZIE suddenly stops, distraught. When he resumes, it's\n in an oddly more normal tone than he's ever used before.\n\n \n MACKENZIE [Softly]\n I didn't want to see it. I'm in here\n because they say I have a nervous\n condition.", "a hospital -- with many aspects parallel to\n the mental hospital. White on white and, for Jackie\n particularly, the presence of painful memories.\n\n \n\n INT. ROOM, INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, ALPINE GROVE, CHRISTMAS DAY\n\n\n \n LORENSON walks closer to STARKS and carefully examines the\n BRUISES and BURNS on a body that's been badly beaten. His\n eyes bear his guilt.\n\n \n\n INT. NURSE", "'t kill myself. I died from a\n blow to the head. How'd it happen? I\n have to know.\n\n \n BECKER looks at him, nearly too stunned to speak.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't know how you died. The last\n time I put you in the Jacket was just\n after you told me you remembered\n killing that police officer...\n\n \n\n 103.\n\n \n\n", "what about Starks?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n What about Starks?\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Should we be...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Should we be what? Trying to change\n him any way we can? [Beat] Yes.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n But the Jacket? I mean...should we be\n leaving him in like that?\n BECK", "Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. [Beat] You put me on drugs and\n then you put me in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n 105.\n\n \n BECKER [Stoically]\n I was sorry when I heard you died.\n I was, but...how was I to know you\n didn't shoot that police officer?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The same way", "\n\n 49.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Jesus, you really don't let up, do\n you? Just because you failed your\n patient doesn't necessarily mean the\n rest of us did, too. [Beat] Sorry to\n tarnish your war hero's image, but he\n is psychotic.\n\n \n LORENSON looks back, starting to grasp Becker's misshapen\n beliefs.\n\n \n\n", "smoking those\n in your condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll die either way.\n\n \n LORENSON pulls up a chair and sits opposite him.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I can't try to help you unless you\n let me. [Beat] I know about the\n Jacket.\n\n \n STARKS waits to see what this means.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", "this man's hands or not, not knowing who he can trust...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Because Becker resigned after the\n charges brought against him by State\n Patient Advocacy Groups.\n\n LORENSON\n I see you've done your homework.\n [Beat] Alpine Grove's undergone a lot\n of changes since then. At the time,\n we didn't have the...resources to\n help our patients the way" ], [ "S sees as the world comes into focus is\n NURSE HARDING'S. Around it loom those of DR. BECKER, DR.\n GRIES and DAMON.\n\n \n A shot of the room shows a constraint-ridden apparatus\n hanging sternly on the wall. It is THE JACKET: an apparatus\n designed to encase a man's body. Made of coarse, sickly-\n stained red ands brown canvas and velcro restraints that would\n first chafe, then forever burn,", "a hospital -- with many aspects parallel to\n the mental hospital. White on white and, for Jackie\n particularly, the presence of painful memories.\n\n \n\n INT. ROOM, INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, ALPINE GROVE, CHRISTMAS DAY\n\n\n \n LORENSON walks closer to STARKS and carefully examines the\n BRUISES and BURNS on a body that's been badly beaten. His\n eyes bear his guilt.\n\n \n\n INT. NURSE", "\n BECKER\n Mr. Starks, this session is for our\n civil patients. Damon, please take\n Mr. Starks back to his ward.\n STARKS cuts him off and threatens with his gaze.\n\n \n STARKS [Derisively]\n No. Please, Dr. Becker. You can strap\n me in a Jacket or even gag me, but\n please don't leave me out of therapy.\n This is where I feel like I", "me in there.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n In where?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Uncertainly] In that thing...the\n Jacket.\n\n \n The NURSE gives Becker a knowing look -- suggesting Starks\n really is delusional. Becker doesn't even flinch as STARKS\n tries to get a better look at Becker's face.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n We were forced to", "\n STARKS just stares at Becker, waiting for the realization to\n hit him, too.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How did you come to know their\n names?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You just told me. The last time I\n was with you was when I was in the\n Jacket. I'm in it right now, Dr.\n Becker.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't", "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "CHIATRIC HOSPITAL, DAY\n\n\n \n A white VAN pulls up to Alpine Grove Psychiatric Hospital -- a\n bleak, dated facility embellished only by the barbed wire\n that seems to be everywhere around it.\n\n \n\n 11.\n\n \n STARKS' anatomy instantly and intensely separates him from\n the staff of the hospital and the infirm patients who might\n be in it. TWO MEMBERS of that STAFF", "\n STARKS\n You have no idea what's going on.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n No, I do. That's what I'm saying to\n you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Listen to me! You don't! The Jacket\n is my only chance in this place.\n\n \n LORENSON just thinks it's another delusion.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", "\n\n with... EXT. VERMONT: A FIELD of snow.\n\n\n \n\n EXT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, MENTAL HOSPITAL\n\n\n \n We see now that it was DR. LORENSON who put Starks in.\n Exhausted from the physical strain of getting him in there,\n she stares at the closed drawer, like looking at it is one\n way to look after Starks.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S", "ER [As if stunned by the question]\n Leaving him in? [Beat] The medication\n I'm given him is intended to adjust --\n maybe even reset -- his violent\n proclivities. You know, peel away\n some of those layers of hate. The\n Jacket's merely a safe place for that\n to happen. The grounds and the halls --\n where I can't monitor side effects I\n can't predict -- aren't.\n\n \n ", "with\n Dr. Becker and Dr. Gries passed away\n three, four years ago.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Do you have any kind of forwarding\n address for Dr. Becker?\n\n \n\n DR. MORGAN\n Your father was here 12 years ago. I\n doubt the hospital would have that,\n if Dr. Becker is still even alive.\n [Beat, a little suspiciously] Is\n there a particular", "INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n Dr. MORGAN leads JACKIE and STARKS through a ward. STARKS\n looks around in disbelief; it's more like a hospital now than\n it ever was in 1993.\n\n \n\n INT. RECEPTION AREA, LORENSON'S OFFICE, ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n As they arrive outside Lorenson'", "smoking those\n in your condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll die either way.\n\n \n LORENSON pulls up a chair and sits opposite him.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I can't try to help you unless you\n let me. [Beat] I know about the\n Jacket.\n\n \n STARKS waits to see what this means.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", "what about Starks?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n What about Starks?\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Should we be...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Should we be what? Trying to change\n him any way we can? [Beat] Yes.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n But the Jacket? I mean...should we be\n leaving him in like that?\n BECK", "RIES [Less muffled]\n Pulse is 16, temp, just a hair under\n 90. 'Bout right for three hours of\n psychosis.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n That's not enough, is it?\n\n \n BECKER looks at STARKS' battered body.\n\n \n BECKER [Wearily, indifferently]\n It's enough for now. Take him to the\n infir", " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE", " hospital. How do you know that?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I looked it up.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n Then he remembers -- understanding with a chill that what she\n is saying could entirely be true.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I gave you my dog tags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, you didn't. They found William\n Starks' body dead", "No, I don't have anything to show\n you. I'm here from a mental hospital.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Well, you belong in one.\n\n \n STARKS [Solemnly]\n [Beat] You and your mom were in a\n truck and she kept a rifle in the\n back of it...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Stop it! Stop it!\n JACKIE covers her ears and looks at him", "'s not a prison, it's a hospital.\n There's got to be some way out of\n there and you've got to find it...\n\n \n She doesn't finish because it's too hard to. STARKS nods,\n wiping her tears and kissing her.\n\n \n\n FADE TO:\n\n \n\n 84.\n\n \n\n INT. BEDROOM, JACKIE'S APARTMENT, NIGHT,", "lead him in.\n\n \n\n JUDGE [O.S.]\n Mr. Starks, I hope that someday you\n might be well so that we will have\n lost only one life in this tragedy.\n\n \n\n INT. CONFERENCE ROOM, ALPINE GROVE MENTAL HOSPITAL\n\n\n \n DR. THOMAS BECKER (overworked, dogmatic, disenchanted), DR.\n BETH LORENSON (30" ], [ "S sees as the world comes into focus is\n NURSE HARDING'S. Around it loom those of DR. BECKER, DR.\n GRIES and DAMON.\n\n \n A shot of the room shows a constraint-ridden apparatus\n hanging sternly on the wall. It is THE JACKET: an apparatus\n designed to encase a man's body. Made of coarse, sickly-\n stained red ands brown canvas and velcro restraints that would\n first chafe, then forever burn,", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "me in there.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n In where?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Uncertainly] In that thing...the\n Jacket.\n\n \n The NURSE gives Becker a knowing look -- suggesting Starks\n really is delusional. Becker doesn't even flinch as STARKS\n tries to get a better look at Becker's face.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n We were forced to", "\n BECKER\n Mr. Starks, this session is for our\n civil patients. Damon, please take\n Mr. Starks back to his ward.\n STARKS cuts him off and threatens with his gaze.\n\n \n STARKS [Derisively]\n No. Please, Dr. Becker. You can strap\n me in a Jacket or even gag me, but\n please don't leave me out of therapy.\n This is where I feel like I", "\n STARKS just stares at Becker, waiting for the realization to\n hit him, too.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How did you come to know their\n names?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You just told me. The last time I\n was with you was when I was in the\n Jacket. I'm in it right now, Dr.\n Becker.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't", "into the single overhead LIGHT in the\n room that obscures the face of the person strapping him in.\n\n \n As the drawer is pushed in, one of the STRAPS gets caught on\n the side, CUTTING STARKS' ARM. We hear a small CRY in the\n room. Then the HANDS adjust the strap and slowly push STARKS\n in.\n\n \n\n 125.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL\n\n\n \n", "what about Starks?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n What about Starks?\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Should we be...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Should we be what? Trying to change\n him any way we can? [Beat] Yes.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n But the Jacket? I mean...should we be\n leaving him in like that?\n BECK", "SH CUT TO:\n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The drawer is yanked open to reveal STARKS' still, drenched\n face. BECKER, GRIES and the ORDERLIES stand above him.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Take him out of it.\n\n \n The ORDERLIES unstrap the JACKET from his body. Blood from\n his chafed skin drips", "\n They're all in the room. STARKS seems pretty calm. Only in a\n C.U. do we see his eyes register the JACKET...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I'm glad to see you're cooperating\n this time, Mr. Starks.\n\n \n\n 23.\n\n \n STARKS looks at the WIDE, STURDY restraints on it. They would\n really hurt if you hit someone as hard as you could", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "and STARKS,\n already dreadfully sheathed in the JACKET, is crammed inside.\n\n \n The ORDERLIES slam the cadaver drawer into the wall.\n\n \n\n INT. CADAVER DRAWER\n\n\n \n STARKS is literally entombed alive. Silence. Stolen breath.\n They bolt the drawer and the CLANG echoes through his body.\n The BLACKNESS and CLOSENESS of the space choke him as his\n heart beats the", "RIES [Less muffled]\n Pulse is 16, temp, just a hair under\n 90. 'Bout right for three hours of\n psychosis.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n That's not enough, is it?\n\n \n BECKER looks at STARKS' battered body.\n\n \n BECKER [Wearily, indifferently]\n It's enough for now. Take him to the\n infir", "arks to catch it.\n\n \n\n 53.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n You're just suffering from delusions\n that are unfortunately part of your\n condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Don't give me that. I know what's\n real, goddamnit! You strapped me in\n something and stuck me in a drawer.\n\n \n BECKER nods diagnostically. The NURSE'", "It was banned, you know... and it led\n to an investigation of Dr. Becker's\n mistreatment of some of his patients.\n That's when they found out how badly\n he was drugging his patients...\n\n \n STARKS [Starting to make sense]\n So he was giving me all kinds of\n drugs...\n\n \n JACKIE [Nodding]\n Apparently. He was taking a lot of\n them, too. It said", "\n\n BECKER\n No. I don't think you do either.\n [Beat] But neither of us can do\n anything about that.\n BECKER barely nods and STARKS is trussed in the JACKET with\n METAL CLAMPS. BECKER writes some details down, presumably\n about Starks' treatment.\n\n \n A CADAVER DRAWER -- just barely deep enough for a body or tall\n enough for the height of a nose -- is slid open", "LOOD from his\n face, looks at his hand, shakes his head and walks out.\n\n DR. GRIES\n Wait...Dr. Becker, how long do you\n want us to leave him in for?\n\n \n BECKER doesn't answer. He doesn't even turn around. DR. GRIES\n goes after him.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Just strap him in for now.\n\n \n And DAMON and HARDING", "ARKS looks down sadly at both. JACKIE\n comes up behind him.\n\n JACKIE\n How long do we have?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I don't know.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n They told me Becker's in Shelbourne\n now. I looked him up and he was\n listed.\n\n \n STARKS looks scared and lost -- like it's all catching up to\n him. And like he might", "ER [As if stunned by the question]\n Leaving him in? [Beat] The medication\n I'm given him is intended to adjust --\n maybe even reset -- his violent\n proclivities. You know, peel away\n some of those layers of hate. The\n Jacket's merely a safe place for that\n to happen. The grounds and the halls --\n where I can't monitor side effects I\n can't predict -- aren't.\n\n \n ", "the skin they're wrapped\n around, the JACKET looks medieval. Its appearance suggests\n its purpose: to slowly STRANGLE THE LIFE OUT OF A MAN.\n\n \n STARKS has been stripped of his blue uniform and is lying\n nearly naked on a burial slab in the cold of the basement.\n Even under the tranquilizers, STARKS formidably resists them\n as the ORDERLIES wrestle to strap him in. Then Starks,\n sensing as anyone would, that something bad is", "'t kill myself. I died from a\n blow to the head. How'd it happen? I\n have to know.\n\n \n BECKER looks at him, nearly too stunned to speak.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't know how you died. The last\n time I put you in the Jacket was just\n after you told me you remembered\n killing that police officer...\n\n \n\n 103.\n\n \n\n" ], [ "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n It's December 25th, 1993 today.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, it's not. [Beat] It's December\n 25th, 2004.\n\n \n STARKS [Desperate]\n That can't be. That's...just, I\n mean... You're telling me I died in\n less than a week in the", "relief.\n\n \n\n 100.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Maybe he's gone somewhere. He'll have\n to come back.\n\n \n STARKS starts to shake his head in disbelief, when suddenly,\n he realizes...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Of course he will. [Beat] What day of\n the week is it?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n ", " And you're sure my body was found on\n January 1st?\n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Do you really believe me?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. [Beat] I thought I was\n crazy after you left that day. I died.\n I still think I could be crazy. But\n then I replayed that night in my head --\n the parts of it I could remember --", "risks. Instead he remembers what\n Jackie told him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n They found William Starks' body dead\n in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS [O.S.]\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n I don't know. But he did die.\n\n \n\n EXT. GROUNDS, ALPINE GROVE\n\n", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "ER taking his DRUGS. In his dark den, on his worn\n desk, is a bottle of WHISKEY. He closes his eyes as he\n administers to himself whatever aid he can...\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, DECEMBER 31, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 123.\n\n \n JEAN is reading each page avidly, affected by this man's last\n words.\n\n ", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", ", DAY\n\n\n \n They are driving through VERMONT to ALPINE GROVE. STARKS\n looks out the window and watches her drive.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I didn't kill Officer Harrison.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I know.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How? Did they figure it out after I\n died?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No. They never", ". HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE and STARKS speed on the highway. As STARKS sleeps,\n JACKIE keeps looking over at him like it's a way to make sure\n he stays with her.\n\n \n\n INT. HOSPITAL, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE helps STARKS -- who's severely weakened at this point --\n to the nurse's", "'t kill myself. I died from a\n blow to the head. How'd it happen? I\n have to know.\n\n \n BECKER looks at him, nearly too stunned to speak.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't know how you died. The last\n time I put you in the Jacket was just\n after you told me you remembered\n killing that police officer...\n\n \n\n 103.\n\n \n\n", "No, no. [Beat] Not yet. But he\n doesn't have long. Are you sure you\n don't want a doctor to look at him?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No! It won't do any good. [Beat]\n Please, Claire. They won't\n understand.\n\n \n CLAIRE acquiesces with her eyes.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n ", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "hears him\n and turns the music up; the act is sad because, as LORENSON\n notices, it belongs to someone with an interest to live.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n DR. LORENSON and STARKS drive up to Jean and Jackie's house.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You want me to come with you?\n\n \n\n ST", "AN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n As STARKS is walking away, we see his eyes begin to tear in\n the cold -- but not from it.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n JACKIE abruptly runs after him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey, wait!\n\n \n STARKS stops in his tracks; he clears as much sadness from", "It's Sunday.\n\n \n STARKS [Nodding]\n It's Sunday.\n\n JACKIE\n So?\n\n \n STARKS looks ecstatic with hope.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Look where these people live.\n\n \n A small, beautiful, removed place.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n They've got lives to be grateful for.\n\n \n\n JACK", "...\n\n \n\n 70.\n\n \n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] You bled to death.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know how you got the cut to\n your head, but you died bleeding from\n it.\n\n \n STARKS [Digesting]\n", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", "FACE of the\n PERSON leaning over him to see if he's all right.\n\n \n The details start to make sense, even to Starks. This is the\n WOUND they said he died from.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1992\n\n\n \n STARKS collapses on the familiar slab, ready to be strapped\n into the Jacket one final time. BLOOD p" ], [ "'t kill myself. I died from a\n blow to the head. How'd it happen? I\n have to know.\n\n \n BECKER looks at him, nearly too stunned to speak.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't know how you died. The last\n time I put you in the Jacket was just\n after you told me you remembered\n killing that police officer...\n\n \n\n 103.\n\n \n\n", "...\n\n \n\n 70.\n\n \n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] You bled to death.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know how you got the cut to\n your head, but you died bleeding from\n it.\n\n \n STARKS [Digesting]\n", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "risks. Instead he remembers what\n Jackie told him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n They found William Starks' body dead\n in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS [O.S.]\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n I don't know. But he did die.\n\n \n\n EXT. GROUNDS, ALPINE GROVE\n\n", " JACKIE\n How?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n He just said...that I'd shock Eugene\n and then things would change for him.\n\n JACKIE\n I don't understand.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I still don't either, even after all\n these years.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Do you know how my father died?\n\n \n ", "No, no. [Beat] Not yet. But he\n doesn't have long. Are you sure you\n don't want a doctor to look at him?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No! It won't do any good. [Beat]\n Please, Claire. They won't\n understand.\n\n \n CLAIRE acquiesces with her eyes.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n ", "...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What do you know about the Jacket?\n\n \n MACKENZIE's eyes start to twitch nervously.\n\n \n\n MACKENZIE\n I know you need one when it's really\n cold.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Cutting in] MacKenzie, listen to me.\n Listen. I'm going to die.\n\n MACKENZ", "smoking those\n in your condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll die either way.\n\n \n LORENSON pulls up a chair and sits opposite him.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I can't try to help you unless you\n let me. [Beat] I know about the\n Jacket.\n\n \n STARKS waits to see what this means.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "damn medieval...Jacket. He's\n probably the one who killed you.\n\n \n And with those words, JACKIE starts to break down.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No one's killing anyone.\n\n \n STARKS takes her hand and runs it over his head.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Touch me. I'm okay.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her with love, understanding and, for the\n first time,", "Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. [Beat] You put me on drugs and\n then you put me in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n 105.\n\n \n BECKER [Stoically]\n I was sorry when I heard you died.\n I was, but...how was I to know you\n didn't shoot that police officer?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The same way", "FACE of the\n PERSON leaning over him to see if he's all right.\n\n \n The details start to make sense, even to Starks. This is the\n WOUND they said he died from.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1992\n\n\n \n STARKS collapses on the familiar slab, ready to be strapped\n into the Jacket one final time. BLOOD p", "station. CLAIRE is there.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Claire, I need help.\n\n \n CLAIRE helps JACKIE, and they take him into a room. From\n afar, we hear CLAIRE asking about him.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What's happening to me? Why am I\n getting so much weaker?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Because your body can only take so\n ", "ACKIE\n Then, where are you going?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nowhere. [Beat] I just think I'm\n gonna be sick.\n STARKS moves towards the bathroom of the hospital room.\n JACKIE moves to help him and he motions for her to stop.\n STARKS falters in the doorway when he turns to look back at\n Jackie -- like it might be for the last time.\n\n \n JACKIE [In a whisper", "ARKS looks down sadly at both. JACKIE\n comes up behind him.\n\n JACKIE\n How long do we have?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I don't know.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n They told me Becker's in Shelbourne\n now. I looked him up and he was\n listed.\n\n \n STARKS looks scared and lost -- like it's all catching up to\n him. And like he might", "IE\n Mortality's actually a great thing to\n be familiar with. It means you're\n sane on some level.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Gravely] No, I mean in four days,\n I'm supposed to die.\n\n \n\n MACKENZIE\n [Beat] How do you know?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The Jacket.\n\n \n\n ", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", " BECKER\n You died, Starks. Years ago, in the\n hospital.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I know. [Beat] You killed me, didn't\n you?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n No. I didn't. I swear I didn't. I\n probably helped push you to kill\n yourself, but I didn't do it.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I didn", "trickles out, it runs into the\n JACKET, burning STARKS' chafed skin.\n\n \n STARKS' EYES flutter and DR. GRIES pushes the drawer back in,\n afraid of what they've done to this man...\n\n \n\n 40.\n\n \n\n INT. CADAVER DRAWER\n\n\n \n STARKS clenches his face and pleadingly closes his eyes. FIVE\n SECONDS OF T", "hears him\n and turns the music up; the act is sad because, as LORENSON\n notices, it belongs to someone with an interest to live.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n DR. LORENSON and STARKS drive up to Jean and Jackie's house.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You want me to come with you?\n\n \n\n ST" ], [ " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE", "S\n Jackie? Jackie?\n\n \n Sure enough, she answers with a STIR in her sleep.\n\n JACKIE\n Hm...\n\n \n We see, in STARKS' eyes, the unbelievable connection: she is\n the same little girl he met only a few weeks ago in 1992.\n\n \n STARKS [Swallowing, softly]\n Jackie? [Beat] What year is it?\n\n \n J", "This time he seems situated, and hopeful. After a slightly\n longer wait than the first time, JACKIE walks out -- in the\n same way as before except that she wears a NURSE'S UNIFORM\n and an unmistakable air of vitality.\n\n \n Jackie looks directly at Starks and we see the same\n attraction between them teeming even more than before. Even\n as a physically injured man in jeans and a flannel, with a\n BLEEDING CUT on his head and no coat in the cold,", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "still exists. I looked\n it up on the net. We should go there\n and see if there's still anyone\n around who might have known what\n happened to you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n If they don't take me out before\n then. [As an afterthought] What's the\n net?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him and laughs.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", ".\n\n \n STARKS shakes his head, looking at her. She looks beautiful,\n and still hopeful. Her life lays ahead of her and her fate --\n when he found her in 2004 -- remains as distant as possible\n from this innocent, still promising image.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie, how have you been?\n\n \n\n 119.\n\n \n JACKIE smiles; she doesn't get asked that often.\n\n", "gets it more than she\n knows.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nothin' to worry about there.\n\n \n\n EXT. OVERHEAD, VERMONT HIGHWAY, 2005\n\n\n \n Jackie's car pulls onto the highway, alongside the other,\n more modern cars on the highway.\n\n JACKIE (O.S.)\n How you doin'?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'", " \n JACKIE runs her little gloved hand over her mom's ski-hatted\n head as she cautiously watches STARKS approach them. He cuts\n an arresting figure against the empty landscape.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Come on, mom. Don't fall asleep...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You two ok?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Our car won't start.\n\n \n\n ", "of the Jacket. He nudges her gently.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie?\n\n \n JACKIE stirs her eyes to look at him.\n\n \n STARKS [Somewhat urgently]\n Where do you live?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n When we first met, when you were 7,\n where was the house you lived in\n ", "STARKS sees JACKIE, 8, sitting by a window in the diner. She\n turns her head towards the ENTRANCE and, as she looks there,\n so does Starks. That is when he first lays eyes on a woman, a\n WAITRESS -- worn but still lovely -- leaving the diner. He is\n taken with her and, for the first time since he's been in the\n Jacket, seems calm. Just then, however, the reverie is\n shattered...\n\n \n\n SMA", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", " LORENSON\n Come on. Tell me what you do know.\n\n STARKS\n [Beat] I've seen a time that's not\n this time. And I'm only able to see\n it when I'm in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well, what time is it?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n\n 2004.\n\n \n LORENSON nods,", "you\n wait till then?\n\n \n\n EXT. RAVINE, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n STARKS and JACKIE smoke in the cold, standing next to the\n hood of her car.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n The Jacket. That's what they call it,\n right?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yeah.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n ", " JACKIE\n Maybe they're out.\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n 99.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS rubs his hands together as he looks out the windows\n and sees NO CARS or PEOPLE on the street. JACKIE watches him\n despairingly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n How much", "presumably\n on their way to Becker's house.\n\n \n\n EXT. BECKER'S NEIGHBORHOOD, SHELBOURNE, VERMONT, 2004\n\n\n \n They've slowed down a little.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n JACKIE reads from some directions on a PAPER as their CAR\n slows down on one particular street, towards one particular\n", "\n\n JACKIE\n I found out about Eugene. The little\n boy. He's the key. That's who you\n have to tell her about when you get\n back there. It's the only way to\n prove this to her.\n\n \n JACKIE's VOICE fades as we...\n\n \n\n CUT TO:\n\n \n\n INT. LORENSON'S HOME, VERMONT, NIGHT, 1", "No, no. [Beat] Not yet. But he\n doesn't have long. Are you sure you\n don't want a doctor to look at him?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No! It won't do any good. [Beat]\n Please, Claire. They won't\n understand.\n\n \n CLAIRE acquiesces with her eyes.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n ", " \n STARKS looks at her without answering. JACKIE wipes her eyes,\n fastens STARKS' seat belt, and seeing that Starks' EYES have\n started to flutter, starts driving. In the distance, the\n barely audible sound of the DRAWER opening, and their time\n ending, is heard.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Where are we going?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n To the hospital.\n\n \n\n EXT" ], [ " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "hears him\n and turns the music up; the act is sad because, as LORENSON\n notices, it belongs to someone with an interest to live.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n DR. LORENSON and STARKS drive up to Jean and Jackie's house.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You want me to come with you?\n\n \n\n ST", "ER taking his DRUGS. In his dark den, on his worn\n desk, is a bottle of WHISKEY. He closes his eyes as he\n administers to himself whatever aid he can...\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, DECEMBER 31, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 123.\n\n \n JEAN is reading each page avidly, affected by this man's last\n words.\n\n ", ", DAY\n\n\n \n They are driving through VERMONT to ALPINE GROVE. STARKS\n looks out the window and watches her drive.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I didn't kill Officer Harrison.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I know.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How? Did they figure it out after I\n died?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No. They never", "No, no. [Beat] Not yet. But he\n doesn't have long. Are you sure you\n don't want a doctor to look at him?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No! It won't do any good. [Beat]\n Please, Claire. They won't\n understand.\n\n \n CLAIRE acquiesces with her eyes.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n ", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", ". HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE and STARKS speed on the highway. As STARKS sleeps,\n JACKIE keeps looking over at him like it's a way to make sure\n he stays with her.\n\n \n\n INT. HOSPITAL, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE helps STARKS -- who's severely weakened at this point --\n to the nurse's", "AN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n As STARKS is walking away, we see his eyes begin to tear in\n the cold -- but not from it.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE AND JEAN'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n JACKIE abruptly runs after him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey, wait!\n\n \n STARKS stops in his tracks; he clears as much sadness from", "presumably\n on their way to Becker's house.\n\n \n\n EXT. BECKER'S NEIGHBORHOOD, SHELBOURNE, VERMONT, 2004\n\n\n \n They've slowed down a little.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n JACKIE reads from some directions on a PAPER as their CAR\n slows down on one particular street, towards one particular\n", "still exists. I looked\n it up on the net. We should go there\n and see if there's still anyone\n around who might have known what\n happened to you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n If they don't take me out before\n then. [As an afterthought] What's the\n net?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him and laughs.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004", "risks. Instead he remembers what\n Jackie told him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n They found William Starks' body dead\n in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS [O.S.]\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n I don't know. But he did die.\n\n \n\n EXT. GROUNDS, ALPINE GROVE\n\n", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", " JACKIE\n Maybe they're out.\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n 99.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS rubs his hands together as he looks out the windows\n and sees NO CARS or PEOPLE on the street. JACKIE watches him\n despairingly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n How much", "...\n\n \n\n 70.\n\n \n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] You bled to death.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know how you got the cut to\n your head, but you died bleeding from\n it.\n\n \n STARKS [Digesting]\n", "STARKS knocks on the door. No answer.\n\n \n\n EXT. BECKER'S HOUSE, SHELBOURNE, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n JACKIE tries to look through the windows to see if anyone's\n there. No one is. It looks small and dark inside.\n\n \n\n EXT. BECKER'S HOUSE, SHELBOURNE, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS knocks again", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "of the Jacket. He nudges her gently.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie?\n\n \n JACKIE stirs her eyes to look at him.\n\n \n STARKS [Somewhat urgently]\n Where do you live?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n When we first met, when you were 7,\n where was the house you lived in\n " ], [ "first degree murder,\n we find the defendant, William\n Starks, not guilty by reason of\n insanity.\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n In his mind, STARKS is walking out of the woods as the sun\n sets and bounces off the snow all around him. We see JACKIE\n watching him walk away into the woods.\n\n \n\n JUDGE (O.S.)", "Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. [Beat] You put me on drugs and\n then you put me in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n 105.\n\n \n BECKER [Stoically]\n I was sorry when I heard you died.\n I was, but...how was I to know you\n didn't shoot that police officer?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The same way", " police officer.\n\n \n STARKS [Correcting him]\n Alleged killing of a police officer.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You were convicted of the crime.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n That conviction doesn't convince me\n of anything. Until I know that I did\n it, I'm not going to accept that I\n did.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You may", " STARKS\n I didn't say I remembered killing\n him. I just repeated some words to\n get myself back in there.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I know. [Beat] I knew that when you\n came out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Because...because you came out and\n said something you couldn't have\n possibly have known. You came", "arily jarred in the room. He looks to the\n wall on which the JACKET hung and sees only the BARE HOOKS\n that used to hold it up.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n This was the room. They used to hang\n the Jacket there. [Turning to Jackie]\n This is where it happened. This is\n the room I'm actually in right now.\n\n \n JACKIE isn't doubtful, but it's also hard to be\n convinced...", "gavel delivering a distant judgment...\n\n \n STARKS [V.O., nearly whispered]\n I don't know how it happened.\n STARKS' eyes finally close as he lapses into unconsciousness.\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE nods as he hands the JURY FOREMAN back the verdict.\n\n \n\n JURY FOREMAN\n On the count of", "I'm William Starks. I'm not his son.\n And...and the kid you work with.\n Your friend's son...Eugene...\n\n \n LORENSON is stilled by the words STARKS just spoke.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I know. I know it all. Save your\n strength. I already know everything\n you're going to say. [Beat] You're in\n the Jacket right now, aren't you?", " And you're sure my body was found on\n January 1st?\n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Do you really believe me?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. [Beat] I thought I was\n crazy after you left that day. I died.\n I still think I could be crazy. But\n then I replayed that night in my head --\n the parts of it I could remember --", "girl. [Beat] His lawyers asked me\n to have a look at him because, after\n his deeds were done... he climbed\n into the trees of the forest where he\n killed her and woofed like a dog. He\n couldn't even remember his name when\n I spoke to him, but, curiously\n enough, he could speak back. [Beat]\n Ted never went to prison because\n everyone -- including me -- was\n convinced he was sick. So he came\n here", "Starks quickly and\n confusingly -- just like it appears to himself.\n\n \n OFFICER NASH [Emotional]\n Eddie [correcting himself], Officer\n Harrison, was lying in a pool of his\n own blood -- on his back.\n\n \n\n DR. HALE\n William Starks could be blocking the\n incident. It would explain his well-\n systematized scheme about the little\n girl and her mother. A delusion as\n complex as", "\n JACKIE\n Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...\n\n \n STARKS leans closer, locating all the proof he needs: the\n stained metal -- still reddened and browned with DRIED BLOOD --\n and the part of the morgue slab he CLAWED his NAILS into when\n he was in it. JACKIE looks at it in disbelief.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yes, it was. [Softly] My", ".\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll leave. But look at me. Look at\n my face, Jackie. I'm not lying. I met\n you and your mother. I told you then\n that I'd lost my memory. [Beat] There\n was no one for miles around so I know\n you know there's no way I could have\n known that from a pair of dog tags\n you had lying around.\n\n \n\n JACKIE", "'t kill myself. I died from a\n blow to the head. How'd it happen? I\n have to know.\n\n \n BECKER looks at him, nearly too stunned to speak.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't know how you died. The last\n time I put you in the Jacket was just\n after you told me you remembered\n killing that police officer...\n\n \n\n 103.\n\n \n\n", "\n\n STARKS\n Depends on what you're seeing.\n\n \n BECKER eyes STARKS mistrustfully.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n You said you couldn't remember\n killing Officer Harrison. Correct?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You don't believe me, do you?\n\n \n\n 13.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n ", ", pleading with her\n eyes. STARKS' eyes plead right back.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'm sorry for upsetting you, [beat]\n but I'm not lying to you.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You can't be William Starks. He's\n dead.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n 43.\n\n ", "be said\n neatly or 'cause it couldn't be said\n at all. It was ugly. And they don't\n put ugly on TV. [Looking at Starks]\n If Starks did kill that officer\n ... [Beat] You can't hold a man\n responsible for a damaged mind.\n\n \n\n 10.\n\n \n\n DEFENSE\n For God's sake, my client said he\n thinks he's already died", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] We will.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, ALPINE GROVE, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS and JACKIE walk briskly down it, away from Lorenson's\n office.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I don't believe a thing she just\n said.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Me neither. Who was the boy she was", "]\n You told me. It's like two parts of\n you talking through me. Look, judging\n from your reaction, there's no other\n way I could know about him.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n There obviously is, so what don't you\n just tell me how you found out about\n him.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her convincingly.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Some part of you suspects", "once. He\n doesn't know what's going on.\n\n \n\n FLASHBACK TO:\n\n \n\n EXT. MURDER SCENE, HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DUSK\n\n\n \n STARKS lies bleeding -- eyes half open -- by OFFICER HARRISON'S\n dead, bloodied body as falling SNOW slowly whitens them both\n and covers any FOOTPRINTS that may have been left behind. We\n hear a distant", "figured it out. I did.\n Most murderers don't stop to help a\n drunk woman and her little girl on\n the side of the road. Not without\n hurting them.\n\n \n\n INT. ADMINISTRATIVE OFFICE, ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n STARKS and JACKIE sit opposite DR. MORGAN, the current young\n face of the hospital. MORGAN has a boyish face and a matching\n gull" ], [ "...\n\n \n\n 70.\n\n \n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] You bled to death.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know how you got the cut to\n your head, but you died bleeding from\n it.\n\n \n STARKS [Digesting]\n", "union.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I think so.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You're bleeding pretty bad there.\n\n \n STARKS touches his FOREHEAD in a panic and, seeing the BLOOD\n on his hands, looks up at her, terrified. Sensing this, she\n moves closer to calm him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It's ok. It's ok. Relax. It's just\n ", ", DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS convalesces in a navy hospital bed -- his head heavily\n BANDAGED and his arms suited with I.V.'s and dressings -- as a\n MAJOR, a LIEUTENANT and a DOCTOR stand above him.\n\n \n STARKS' face -- now cleaned of the blood that masked it before --\n is alert, and striking. Even with the bandages, he remains\n well-built and strong, like a shot straight to the head would\n have been the", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How...how do you know?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You told me this was how it\n happened.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I did?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Yeah.\n\n \n STARKS clutches his side in pain as they prepare to take him\n out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Who", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "be being taken out of the Jacket.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How far away is that?\n\n \n\n 82.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n PAGE MISSING\n\n \n\n 83.\n\n \n JACKIE kisses his SCARS -- from the war and the Jacket -- and\n STARKS lifts her higher so he can look at her as they make\n love for the first time", "LORENSON [Unconvincingly]\n I don't know how much I remember but\n I seem to think it was from a... cut or\n blow of some sort or another.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he get it?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n [Beat] I don't know.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n But Dr. Morgan said you were around\n when my father was...\n\n", "tug on the sheet and we see, and suddenly hear, from\n William Starks' P.O.V. the CHAOS of the hospital around him\n as DOCTORS and NURSES tend as best as they can to the injured\n soldiers.\n\n \n Our glimpse of STARKS reveals a red stretcher -- soaked in blood --\n and the severe head wound where a bullet's minced his skull.\n\n \n Then, slowly, steadily, a heartbeat is heard over the muffled\n sounds of the hospital and,", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", " a cut. We can get it fixed.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 127.\n\n \n JACKIE (cont'd)\n But we need to get you to the\n hospital now. How'd you get that?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I fell down. [Beat] But I'm alive.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her -- immensely relieved and grateful.\n\n \n", "FACE of the\n PERSON leaning over him to see if he's all right.\n\n \n The details start to make sense, even to Starks. This is the\n WOUND they said he died from.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1992\n\n\n \n STARKS collapses on the familiar slab, ready to be strapped\n into the Jacket one final time. BLOOD p", "BANDAGED CHEEK, reinforcing his memory of what\n happened...\n\n \n STARKS [Provokingly]\n What happened to your cheek, Dr.\n Becker?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I was careless. Happens sometimes.\n\n \n\n FADE TO:\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, RECOVERY WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY, 199", "This time he seems situated, and hopeful. After a slightly\n longer wait than the first time, JACKIE walks out -- in the\n same way as before except that she wears a NURSE'S UNIFORM\n and an unmistakable air of vitality.\n\n \n Jackie looks directly at Starks and we see the same\n attraction between them teeming even more than before. Even\n as a physically injured man in jeans and a flannel, with a\n BLEEDING CUT on his head and no coat in the cold,", "\n JACKIE\n Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...\n\n \n STARKS leans closer, locating all the proof he needs: the\n stained metal -- still reddened and browned with DRIED BLOOD --\n and the part of the morgue slab he CLAWED his NAILS into when\n he was in it. JACKIE looks at it in disbelief.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yes, it was. [Softly] My", "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "he was trying out\n behavior modification treatments that\n were banned back in the 70s -- \"womb\n treatment\" is the name he gave to\n what he did to you...\n\n \n STARKS [Cutting in]\n Womb? A fuckin' womb? What kind of\n animal did he come out of?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n But no one knew until after...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n After I", " hospital. How do you know that?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I looked it up.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n Then he remembers -- understanding with a chill that what she\n is saying could entirely be true.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I gave you my dog tags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, you didn't. They found William\n Starks' body dead" ], [ "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "be being taken out of the Jacket.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How far away is that?\n\n \n\n 82.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n PAGE MISSING\n\n \n\n 83.\n\n \n JACKIE kisses his SCARS -- from the war and the Jacket -- and\n STARKS lifts her higher so he can look at her as they make\n love for the first time", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "union.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I think so.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You're bleeding pretty bad there.\n\n \n STARKS touches his FOREHEAD in a panic and, seeing the BLOOD\n on his hands, looks up at her, terrified. Sensing this, she\n moves closer to calm him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It's ok. It's ok. Relax. It's just\n ", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", "of the Jacket. He nudges her gently.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie?\n\n \n JACKIE stirs her eyes to look at him.\n\n \n STARKS [Somewhat urgently]\n Where do you live?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n When we first met, when you were 7,\n where was the house you lived in\n ", "ARKS sees her watching and\n tries to distract her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What do you think of all this snow?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him curiously.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] Nothing.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her and smiles at her honest answer; Jackie\n turns her head back towards her mother.\n\n \n\n 6.\n\n \n\n JACK", ".\n\n \n STARKS shakes his head, looking at her. She looks beautiful,\n and still hopeful. Her life lays ahead of her and her fate --\n when he found her in 2004 -- remains as distant as possible\n from this innocent, still promising image.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie, how have you been?\n\n \n\n 119.\n\n \n JACKIE smiles; she doesn't get asked that often.\n\n", "still exists. I looked\n it up on the net. We should go there\n and see if there's still anyone\n around who might have known what\n happened to you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n If they don't take me out before\n then. [As an afterthought] What's the\n net?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him and laughs.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004", "smoking those\n in your condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll die either way.\n\n \n LORENSON pulls up a chair and sits opposite him.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I can't try to help you unless you\n let me. [Beat] I know about the\n Jacket.\n\n \n STARKS waits to see what this means.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", " hospital. How do you know that?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I looked it up.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n Then he remembers -- understanding with a chill that what she\n is saying could entirely be true.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I gave you my dog tags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, you didn't. They found William\n Starks' body dead", "ARKS looks down sadly at both. JACKIE\n comes up behind him.\n\n JACKIE\n How long do we have?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I don't know.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n They told me Becker's in Shelbourne\n now. I looked him up and he was\n listed.\n\n \n STARKS looks scared and lost -- like it's all catching up to\n him. And like he might", "S\n Jackie? Jackie?\n\n \n Sure enough, she answers with a STIR in her sleep.\n\n JACKIE\n Hm...\n\n \n We see, in STARKS' eyes, the unbelievable connection: she is\n the same little girl he met only a few weeks ago in 1992.\n\n \n STARKS [Swallowing, softly]\n Jackie? [Beat] What year is it?\n\n \n J", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", "S.\n\n \n STARKS [Softly]\n I don't belong here. I don't...\n\n \n STARKS falters but stays up. He turns to see a shell of an\n OLD MAN looking right through him with wooden eyes. STARKS'\n eyes stay so completely fixed on the old man's haunting sight\n that he doesn't see what's ahead of him.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n He bumps right", "STARKS sees JACKIE, 8, sitting by a window in the diner. She\n turns her head towards the ENTRANCE and, as she looks there,\n so does Starks. That is when he first lays eyes on a woman, a\n WAITRESS -- worn but still lovely -- leaving the diner. He is\n taken with her and, for the first time since he's been in the\n Jacket, seems calm. Just then, however, the reverie is\n shattered...\n\n \n\n SMA" ], [ " \n JACKIE runs her little gloved hand over her mom's ski-hatted\n head as she cautiously watches STARKS approach them. He cuts\n an arresting figure against the empty landscape.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Come on, mom. Don't fall asleep...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You two ok?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Our car won't start.\n\n \n\n ", "highway just after the sun\n has set, and just after he helped JEAN and JACKIE, on that\n fateful day...\n\n \n This time we see a CAR stop for him from a much closer\n distance. TENNY pulls up towards STARKS and rolls down the\n window on the passenger side. STARKS bends down to be able to\n see the driver.\n\n \n\n TENNY\n Hey, Mister, you need a ride?\n\n \n\n STARK", " He looks outside and sees a few people walking into the FOOD\n MART of the gas station. He trembles with cold as he looks\n down at his plaid shirt.\n Then, JACKIE unexpectedly appears outside the DRIVER'S WINDOW\n opening the car door and nearly spilling her COFFEE when she\n spots STARKS next to her.\n\n \n Seeing it's him though, she smiles warmly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You just scared me, that's", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "!\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Mom, he just fixed our car.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Jackie, get in the car. NOW!\n\n \n JEAN reaches for a RIFLE in the back of the truck but\n stumbles from the nausea before she can pick it up.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Look, I don't want any trouble, so...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n", "two flecks...then, two\n dots...then, two circles...then, the WHITES of a pair of\n EYES with a terrific meanness in them.\n\n \n The EYES blink, then disappear like they were never there.\n\n \n The pace of STARKS' heart quickens, and the inexplicable\n madness surrounds him once more...\n\n \n\n EXT. MURDER SCENE, HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DUSK\n\n\n ", "S.\n\n \n STARKS [Softly]\n I don't belong here. I don't...\n\n \n STARKS falters but stays up. He turns to see a shell of an\n OLD MAN looking right through him with wooden eyes. STARKS'\n eyes stay so completely fixed on the old man's haunting sight\n that he doesn't see what's ahead of him.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n He bumps right", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "STARKS sees JACKIE, 8, sitting by a window in the diner. She\n turns her head towards the ENTRANCE and, as she looks there,\n so does Starks. That is when he first lays eyes on a woman, a\n WAITRESS -- worn but still lovely -- leaving the diner. He is\n taken with her and, for the first time since he's been in the\n Jacket, seems calm. Just then, however, the reverie is\n shattered...\n\n \n\n SMA", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", " Neither do I, ma'am. I'll be on my\n way.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Mom, you've got it wrong...\n\n \n STARKS motions for JACKIE to stop as he collects his bags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You're just gonna walk?\n\n \n\n 7.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yeah, I'll hitch a", ".\n\n \n STARKS nods slowly. The WAITRESS gets in her car and looks\n again at STARKS in her REARVIEW MIRROR. He has hardly any\n winter gear on him -- no gloves, no hat, no coat -- just jeans\n and a flannel. He looks lost among his surroundings, as much\n because he doesn't know where he is as because he doesn't\n look like he belongs there.\n\n \n She reverses towards him.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS", "risks. Instead he remembers what\n Jackie told him.\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n They found William Starks' body dead\n in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS [O.S.]\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE [O.S.]\n I don't know. But he did die.\n\n \n\n EXT. GROUNDS, ALPINE GROVE\n\n", "isn't there anyone around?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] I don't know.\n\n \n STARKS runs his hand over his head and closes his eyes in\n desperation.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What are you doing?\n\n \n STARKS doesn't answer.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n William! William!\n\n \n STARKS opens his eyes. She sighs in", "KE upwards and following it with his eyes.\n He's finished with these men and everything they stand for.\n\n \n\n STARKS [V.O.]\n I didn't know where my home was. I\n just knew I didn't want to be there\n anymore.\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS -- recovered now -- walks by himself along a long\n highway. He seems to", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", ", looking down anxiously at his feet.\n JACKIE walks up to him from around the side of the house.\n They don't have the time to wait.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n They're not here.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n They're not.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat, lost] No.\n\n \n JACKIE notices how COLD Starks looks.\n\n \n\n ", " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE" ], [ "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", " \n\n STARKS\n Your mom take anything before this\n happened?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Yeah, but I don't know what.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What's your name?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Jackie.\n\n \n JACKIE decidedly sticks out her gloved hand. STARKS smiles\n and briefly shakes it. STARKS rubs a hand", ".\n\n \n STARKS shakes his head, looking at her. She looks beautiful,\n and still hopeful. Her life lays ahead of her and her fate --\n when he found her in 2004 -- remains as distant as possible\n from this innocent, still promising image.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie, how have you been?\n\n \n\n 119.\n\n \n JACKIE smiles; she doesn't get asked that often.\n\n", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "of the Jacket. He nudges her gently.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie?\n\n \n JACKIE stirs her eyes to look at him.\n\n \n STARKS [Somewhat urgently]\n Where do you live?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n When we first met, when you were 7,\n where was the house you lived in\n ", " \n JACKIE runs her little gloved hand over her mom's ski-hatted\n head as she cautiously watches STARKS approach them. He cuts\n an arresting figure against the empty landscape.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Come on, mom. Don't fall asleep...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You two ok?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Our car won't start.\n\n \n\n ", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", "ARKS sees her watching and\n tries to distract her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What do you think of all this snow?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him curiously.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] Nothing.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her and smiles at her honest answer; Jackie\n turns her head back towards her mother.\n\n \n\n 6.\n\n \n\n JACK", " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE", " JACKIE\n William Starks. [Beat] Thanks.\n\n \n\n CUT TO:\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n STARKS faces the screen with nothing but a cryptic BLACKNESS\n about him and a confused look on his face as a MENACING VOICE\n questions him.\n\n \n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n \"Jackie\" and \"Je", " \n\n JACKIE\n I've been ok.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Good. How's your mom?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok, I guess.\n\n \n STARKS nods. JACKIE smiles. It's all he can do not to\n crumble.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Do you think I could see her?\n She looks at him and senses, like kids do", " He looks outside and sees a few people walking into the FOOD\n MART of the gas station. He trembles with cold as he looks\n down at his plaid shirt.\n Then, JACKIE unexpectedly appears outside the DRIVER'S WINDOW\n opening the car door and nearly spilling her COFFEE when she\n spots STARKS next to her.\n\n \n Seeing it's him though, she smiles warmly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You just scared me, that's", "ONE\n suddenly rings.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Sorry, one sec.\n\n \n JACKIE answers it, smiling.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey! How are you? [Beat] Thanks. I\n was just thinking about you, too.\n\n \n STARKS listens nervously to her conversation and the\n affection in her voice.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Listen, I gotta go, mom, '", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "be being taken out of the Jacket.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How far away is that?\n\n \n\n 82.\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n PAGE MISSING\n\n \n\n 83.\n\n \n JACKIE kisses his SCARS -- from the war and the Jacket -- and\n STARKS lifts her higher so he can look at her as they make\n love for the first time", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "\n JACKIE\n Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...\n\n \n STARKS leans closer, locating all the proof he needs: the\n stained metal -- still reddened and browned with DRIED BLOOD --\n and the part of the morgue slab he CLAWED his NAILS into when\n he was in it. JACKIE looks at it in disbelief.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yes, it was. [Softly] My" ], [ " police officer.\n\n \n STARKS [Correcting him]\n Alleged killing of a police officer.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You were convicted of the crime.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n That conviction doesn't convince me\n of anything. Until I know that I did\n it, I'm not going to accept that I\n did.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You may", "ARKS nods as a muffled \"Objection\" flickers away in the\n background...\n\n \n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n I may need to actually hear that\n answer, Mr. Starks.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] Yes.\n With Starks' answer, the background of the courtroom is\n suddenly illuminated and we see that THIS IS STARKS' OWN\n TRIAL. The VOICE belongs to a satisfied PROSECUT", "Starks quickly and\n confusingly -- just like it appears to himself.\n\n \n OFFICER NASH [Emotional]\n Eddie [correcting himself], Officer\n Harrison, was lying in a pool of his\n own blood -- on his back.\n\n \n\n DR. HALE\n William Starks could be blocking the\n incident. It would explain his well-\n systematized scheme about the little\n girl and her mother. A delusion as\n complex as", "Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. [Beat] You put me on drugs and\n then you put me in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n 105.\n\n \n BECKER [Stoically]\n I was sorry when I heard you died.\n I was, but...how was I to know you\n didn't shoot that police officer?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The same way", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", " \n\n BECKER\n You killed him?\n\n \n STARKS simply delivers one slow nod.\n\n \n\n 93.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n And wound up in a better cage. [Beat]\n But I still want to make a deal.\n\n \n BECKER looks understandably disgusted and STARKS proceeds\n with the calculation of someone who is guilty.\n\n \n\n STARK", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How...how do you know?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You told me this was how it\n happened.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I did?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Yeah.\n\n \n STARKS clutches his side in pain as they prepare to take him\n out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Who", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", " \n \"ALPINE GROVE INVESTIGATION into the mysterious death of\n William Starks...\"\n\n \n \"The body of WILLIAM STARKS, the former war hero who was\n charged with the murder of OFFICER EDWARD HARRISON, was\n found on the grounds of ALPINE GROVE on January 1, 1993.\n STARKS was believed to have died from a wound to the\n head.\"\n\n \n The", " STARKS\n I didn't say I remembered killing\n him. I just repeated some words to\n get myself back in there.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I know. [Beat] I knew that when you\n came out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Because...because you came out and\n said something you couldn't have\n possibly have known. You came", "\n \n\n 80.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Did you know my father?\n\n \n\n DAMON\n Oh yeah, sure. He killed a cop,\n right?\n\n \n STARKS looms strangely over DAMON in this exchange.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You wouldn't happen to know how he\n died, would you?\n\n \n DAMON", "factly]\n Did he tell you he tried to kill his\n wife?\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n MacKenzie locked himself up in his\n house for two months and nearly\n starved himself to death before he\n was brought here. All because his\n wife left him for another man.\n\n \n STARKS moves to put his cigarette out and his I.V. almost\n falls out of his arm. LORE", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "\n\n STARKS\n Depends on what you're seeing.\n\n \n BECKER eyes STARKS mistrustfully.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n You said you couldn't remember\n killing Officer Harrison. Correct?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You don't believe me, do you?\n\n \n\n 13.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n ", "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", "s eyes are filled with dishonesty, tears and a craven\n FEAR. STARKS leans in closer to DAMON as he remembers...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You know something, Damon? You're\n like a mule. You're real stubborn.\n But there's ways of fixin' that. All\n you need is a good stick. [Beat]\n Here's your stick. Live with it.\n\n \n STARKS looks like", " And you, Mr. Starks?\n\n \n STARKS [Already on the defense]\n I'm fine.\n\n \n\n DR. LORENSON\n Mr. MacKenzie, do you think I could\n talk to Mr. Starks privately?\n\n \n\n MACKENZIE\n Of course you can, Doc. William, it\n was an absolute pleasure. Thanks for\n playing.\n\n \n Just before he", " \n\n STARKS\n I know. It was perfect. [Beat] Erase\n my sanity and you erase anything I'll\n ever say.\n\n \n JACKIE [Frustrated]\n Well, doesn't what he did to you make\n you mad?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Of course it makes me mad. It makes\n me more than mad. Just like\n remembering the face of the man who\n ", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re" ], [ "factly]\n Did he tell you he tried to kill his\n wife?\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n MacKenzie locked himself up in his\n house for two months and nearly\n starved himself to death before he\n was brought here. All because his\n wife left him for another man.\n\n \n STARKS moves to put his cigarette out and his I.V. almost\n falls out of his arm. LORE", " police officer.\n\n \n STARKS [Correcting him]\n Alleged killing of a police officer.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You were convicted of the crime.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n That conviction doesn't convince me\n of anything. Until I know that I did\n it, I'm not going to accept that I\n did.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You may", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How...how do you know?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You told me this was how it\n happened.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I did?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Yeah.\n\n \n STARKS clutches his side in pain as they prepare to take him\n out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Who", "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", " \n\n BECKER\n You killed him?\n\n \n STARKS simply delivers one slow nod.\n\n \n\n 93.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n And wound up in a better cage. [Beat]\n But I still want to make a deal.\n\n \n BECKER looks understandably disgusted and STARKS proceeds\n with the calculation of someone who is guilty.\n\n \n\n STARK", "Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. [Beat] You put me on drugs and\n then you put me in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n 105.\n\n \n BECKER [Stoically]\n I was sorry when I heard you died.\n I was, but...how was I to know you\n didn't shoot that police officer?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The same way", "ARKS nods as a muffled \"Objection\" flickers away in the\n background...\n\n \n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n I may need to actually hear that\n answer, Mr. Starks.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] Yes.\n With Starks' answer, the background of the courtroom is\n suddenly illuminated and we see that THIS IS STARKS' OWN\n TRIAL. The VOICE belongs to a satisfied PROSECUT", ", DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS convalesces in a navy hospital bed -- his head heavily\n BANDAGED and his arms suited with I.V.'s and dressings -- as a\n MAJOR, a LIEUTENANT and a DOCTOR stand above him.\n\n \n STARKS' face -- now cleaned of the blood that masked it before --\n is alert, and striking. Even with the bandages, he remains\n well-built and strong, like a shot straight to the head would\n have been the", " STARKS\n I didn't say I remembered killing\n him. I just repeated some words to\n get myself back in there.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I know. [Beat] I knew that when you\n came out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Because...because you came out and\n said something you couldn't have\n possibly have known. You came", "he was trying out\n behavior modification treatments that\n were banned back in the 70s -- \"womb\n treatment\" is the name he gave to\n what he did to you...\n\n \n STARKS [Cutting in]\n Womb? A fuckin' womb? What kind of\n animal did he come out of?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n But no one knew until after...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n After I", "nearly sending him down.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n No. That's not necessary.\n\n \n BECKER looks down and sees his own BLOOD fall on the floor.\n He looks up at STARKS who, even in his pain, looks shocked at\n the force he just used.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Let him go. [More firmly] I said, let\n him go!\n\n \n As soon as they let him go, STARKS", "The terrible question asks itself on his\n face: Is this when Starks is killed?\n\n \n STARKS [Turning around sharply]\n What are you going to do to me?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well...\n\n \n As LORENSON reaches into his POCKET for something, STARKS\n anxiously holds his breath. It's BLACK when it comes out and...\n a SKI HAT when it opens up. STARKS lets out his breath,\n", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", " \n\n STARKS\n I know. It was perfect. [Beat] Erase\n my sanity and you erase anything I'll\n ever say.\n\n \n JACKIE [Frustrated]\n Well, doesn't what he did to you make\n you mad?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Of course it makes me mad. It makes\n me more than mad. Just like\n remembering the face of the man who\n ", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "understand...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'm in it as we speak. [Beat] You're\n haunting yourself right now. [Beat]\n I guess sometimes we indict\n ourselves if no one else does. You\n didn't make history like you wanted\n to, huh, Dr. Becker. It turned out\n different, didn't it?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I didn't put you in Alpine", " BECKER\n It was part of the treatment I\n intended...I didn't know what the\n effects would be...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n So, what, you guinea pig sick people\n to find out?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n The three of you weren't regular\n patients. You were criminals that\n ended up at Alpine Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No", " One thing's got nothing to do with\n the other.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n One's got everything to do with the\n other. So unless you want my blood on\n your hands...leave what's between me\n and Becker between me and Becker.\n\n \n LORENSON backs off, jarred by Starks' assertions and fearful\n of his debilitating vehemence.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, ALPINE G", " BECKER\n You died, Starks. Years ago, in the\n hospital.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I know. [Beat] You killed me, didn't\n you?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n No. I didn't. I swear I didn't. I\n probably helped push you to kill\n yourself, but I didn't do it.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I didn", "\n \n\n 80.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Did you know my father?\n\n \n\n DAMON\n Oh yeah, sure. He killed a cop,\n right?\n\n \n STARKS looms strangely over DAMON in this exchange.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You wouldn't happen to know how he\n died, would you?\n\n \n DAMON" ], [ "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", "2\n\n\n \n STARKS looks out on the SNOW-COVERED GROUNDS from his room on\n the third floor. He seems pacified for the moment.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, RECOVERY WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY\n\n\n \n Everything about the dingy hospital punctuates the sad\n mechanics of managing madness. CATATONIC PATIENTS and dated\n equipment litter the hall and, as we follow a NURSE who walks\n", "\n \n STARKS has no idea what's happening to him as they drag him\n out, and his STIFLED CRIES ensure no one else does either.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n Come on, army boy. Time for some\n therapy.\n\n \n\n 15.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The first face STARK", ". He\n pauses, trying to recall as much of it as he can.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n And what about your work with Eugene --\n the kid? Is that another facet of my\n delusions?\n\n \n LORENSON -- having prepared to continue -- is bowled over at\n the mention of her patient. She loses all color and calm in\n her features.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n How do you know about Eugene?\n", "CHIATRIC HOSPITAL, DAY\n\n\n \n A white VAN pulls up to Alpine Grove Psychiatric Hospital -- a\n bleak, dated facility embellished only by the barbed wire\n that seems to be everywhere around it.\n\n \n\n 11.\n\n \n STARKS' anatomy instantly and intensely separates him from\n the staff of the hospital and the infirm patients who might\n be in it. TWO MEMBERS of that STAFF", "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "\n STARKS just stares at Becker, waiting for the realization to\n hit him, too.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How did you come to know their\n names?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You just told me. The last time I\n was with you was when I was in the\n Jacket. I'm in it right now, Dr.\n Becker.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", " STARKS shakes his head and momentarily challenges Lorenson\n simply with his air of calm resolve.\n\n STARKS\n Not everyone in here is crazy, Doc.\n\n \n LORENSON searches for another approach.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n [Beat] Like who? Like MacKenzie\n maybe?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Maybe.\n\n \n LORENSON [Matter-of-", "t he?\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Later. I'll tell you about it later.\n We got a session to catch now.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD 3, ALPINE GROVE, 1992, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS is in a different ward with PATIENTS who appear more\n threatening and disturbed. As he is anxiously looking around --\n presumably for a way out -- Starks hears one of the PATIENTS", "]\n I don't know. You tell me, Doc. You\n think there's anything wrong with me?\n\n \n\n DR. LORENSON\n I don't know. You're not my patient.\n\n \n STARKS looks away. Lorenson gives him a once over.\n\n \n\n DR. LORENSON\n You look like you've lost some\n weight. Are you eating?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n", "\n BECKER\n Mr. Starks, this session is for our\n civil patients. Damon, please take\n Mr. Starks back to his ward.\n STARKS cuts him off and threatens with his gaze.\n\n \n STARKS [Derisively]\n No. Please, Dr. Becker. You can strap\n me in a Jacket or even gag me, but\n please don't leave me out of therapy.\n This is where I feel like I", "lead him in.\n\n \n\n JUDGE [O.S.]\n Mr. Starks, I hope that someday you\n might be well so that we will have\n lost only one life in this tragedy.\n\n \n\n INT. CONFERENCE ROOM, ALPINE GROVE MENTAL HOSPITAL\n\n\n \n DR. THOMAS BECKER (overworked, dogmatic, disenchanted), DR.\n BETH LORENSON (30", "a hospital -- with many aspects parallel to\n the mental hospital. White on white and, for Jackie\n particularly, the presence of painful memories.\n\n \n\n INT. ROOM, INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, ALPINE GROVE, CHRISTMAS DAY\n\n\n \n LORENSON walks closer to STARKS and carefully examines the\n BRUISES and BURNS on a body that's been badly beaten. His\n eyes bear his guilt.\n\n \n\n INT. NURSE", "\n STARKS\n You have no idea what's going on.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n No, I do. That's what I'm saying to\n you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Listen to me! You don't! The Jacket\n is my only chance in this place.\n\n \n LORENSON just thinks it's another delusion.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", "arks to catch it.\n\n \n\n 53.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n You're just suffering from delusions\n that are unfortunately part of your\n condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Don't give me that. I know what's\n real, goddamnit! You strapped me in\n something and stuck me in a drawer.\n\n \n BECKER nods diagnostically. The NURSE'", ", he's a decorated vet. And\n had another one testify for him. Who\n knows? [To DR. BECKER] Tom, do you\n mind taking him?\n\n \n BECKER shrugs a nod as the Chief moves on to the next order\n of business...\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS is shown to his room by NURSE HARDING -- stern, senior --\n", "No, I don't have anything to show\n you. I'm here from a mental hospital.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Well, you belong in one.\n\n \n STARKS [Solemnly]\n [Beat] You and your mom were in a\n truck and she kept a rifle in the\n back of it...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Stop it! Stop it!\n JACKIE covers her ears and looks at him", "ROVE, DAY\n\n From STARKS' P.O.V., we follow him walk down the hospital\n halls, even hazier from the medication than before. FORMS\n blur into one another and, on either side of him is a crazy\n world with crazy patients who've lost their way in it.\n\n \n STARKS reaches for the WALL and runs his HAND over it, trying\n to keep his balance. He's walking towards BECKER who stands\n at the end of the hall, talking to other PATIENT" ], [ "and STARKS,\n already dreadfully sheathed in the JACKET, is crammed inside.\n\n \n The ORDERLIES slam the cadaver drawer into the wall.\n\n \n\n INT. CADAVER DRAWER\n\n\n \n STARKS is literally entombed alive. Silence. Stolen breath.\n They bolt the drawer and the CLANG echoes through his body.\n The BLACKNESS and CLOSENESS of the space choke him as his\n heart beats the", " \n A shot of the WALL OF DRAWERS, with no one in the room, just\n someone in the wall...\n\n \n\n INT. CADAVER DRAWER\n\n\n \n STARKS finds himself in the physically wrenching place once\n more. But nothing happens for some seconds. He breathes\n anxiously, not knowing what to expect. His heart beats\n steadily: THUMP...THUMP, until, finally, with each beat, a\n SMALL WHITE FLECK becomes", "the edge.\n\n \n STARKS' EYES roll back into his head and start to flutter,\n shaking the SCREEN right along them until...\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE\n\n\n \n STARKS stands outside his body, looking at the wall of\n drawers he is in. He bends down to look more closely at a\n STAIN on the floor -- DRIED BLOOD -- and as he runs his HAND over\n it and", "\n \n STARKS has no idea what's happening to him as they drag him\n out, and his STIFLED CRIES ensure no one else does either.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n Come on, army boy. Time for some\n therapy.\n\n \n\n 15.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The first face STARK", "SH CUT TO:\n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The drawer is yanked open to reveal STARKS' still, drenched\n face. BECKER, GRIES and the ORDERLIES stand above him.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Take him out of it.\n\n \n The ORDERLIES unstrap the JACKET from his body. Blood from\n his chafed skin drips", " much. [Beat] Just open the drawer.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n We never should have done this to\n him...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Well, what are we gonna do about it now?\n\n \n Nothing is Gries' answer. Still, Becker seems to share the\n concern.\n\n \n BECKER motions for them to open the drawer. They pull him\n out. STARKS looks cold and wrecked.\n\n", ", just then, the HARSH SOUND\n of the DRAWER being opened rings deafeningly in his ears and\n the image of her starts to DISSOLVE at this worst moment. He\n is being taken out of the JACKET...\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n It's DR. GRIES, racked with guilt, who pulls Starks out...\n\n \n He winces at the sight of the", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I can show you. It's probably in\n there.\n\n \n STARKS walks to the CADAVER DRAWERS and rests his hands on\n the one they put him in. Then, with great difficulty --\n physical and emotional -- he opens it to see if there is\n anything left.\n\n \n He pulls it out, and there's nothing in there.\n\n \n\n 79.\n\n \n", "BLOOD and SWEAT streaked across\n Starks' face. DR. GRIES checks his pulse and cleans his face\n as best as he can with a WET TOWEL.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n William, can you hear me?\n\n \n His VOICE echoes in the morgue, sounding to Starks, as it\n does to us, faint and distant. DR. GRIES drips some WATER in\n Starks' mouth. As some of it", "trickles out, it runs into the\n JACKET, burning STARKS' chafed skin.\n\n \n STARKS' EYES flutter and DR. GRIES pushes the drawer back in,\n afraid of what they've done to this man...\n\n \n\n 40.\n\n \n\n INT. CADAVER DRAWER\n\n\n \n STARKS clenches his face and pleadingly closes his eyes. FIVE\n SECONDS OF T", "could be a drum...\n\n \n The screen goes BLACK and QUIVERS as STARKS clenches his eyes\n shut.\n\n \n\n 17.\n\n \n\n INT. CADAVER DRAWER\n\n\n \n Just then, as the MUSCLE beneath his eyes starts to VIBRATE,\n something terrible and wet falls from the ceiling of the\n drawer. PING! Right on his eye. The drop of WATER is enough\n to send this man right over", "Beat] Here's your stick.\n\n \n DAMON slams him in the drawer.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS' eyes dart about him; it sounds like something is in\n there with him. The sound stops momentarily and, then, out of\n nowhere, a DROP falls on his eye. PING! STARKS winces. He\n clenches his face, not knowing when the next drop will fall.\n His heart starts", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "one.\n\n NURSE HARDING\n You gonna get the fuck up?\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, ALPINE GROVE, NIGHT, CHRISTMAS EVE\n\n\n \n STARKS walks stoically down the cold corridors to his own\n torture -- flanked by HARDING and DAMON on either side.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, CHRISTMAS EVE\n\n\n ", "\n\n BECKER\n No. I don't think you do either.\n [Beat] But neither of us can do\n anything about that.\n BECKER barely nods and STARKS is trussed in the JACKET with\n METAL CLAMPS. BECKER writes some details down, presumably\n about Starks' treatment.\n\n \n A CADAVER DRAWER -- just barely deep enough for a body or tall\n enough for the height of a nose -- is slid open", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "]\n You come back to me...\n\n \n STARKS nods, then goes in and closes the door behind him.\n JACKIE stares after him -- alone in the total silence of the\n room. She listens for the slightest noise and that's when she\n actually hears the sound of the DRAWER being opened for\n herself.\n\n \n She realizes he's gone. She RUSHES after him, opens the door\n in a fit, and then, sees what she feared most: no", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", "a PATIENT.\n\n \n\n INT. BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE watches STARKS ignore the \"Authorized Personnel Only\"\n SIGN as he pushes the door open without so much as a pause.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n The morgue looks exactly as before.\n\n \n STARKS is moment", "FACE of the\n PERSON leaning over him to see if he's all right.\n\n \n The details start to make sense, even to Starks. This is the\n WOUND they said he died from.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1992\n\n\n \n STARKS collapses on the familiar slab, ready to be strapped\n into the Jacket one final time. BLOOD p" ], [ "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", "t he?\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Later. I'll tell you about it later.\n We got a session to catch now.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD 3, ALPINE GROVE, 1992, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS is in a different ward with PATIENTS who appear more\n threatening and disturbed. As he is anxiously looking around --\n presumably for a way out -- Starks hears one of the PATIENTS", " here and lock the door behind you.\n I'll go get some doctors.\n\n \n SALLY looks at STARKS, wondering whether she can trust him.\n Her eyes shift to the BRUTE on the floor and she remembers\n that she can.\n\n \n\n 63.\n\n \n\n INT. MAIN ROOM, WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n The STATE REP -- 40s", "ward, when she sees -- almost like a shadow -- a STRETCHER\n being wheeled down the hall. She finishes with the patient\n and runs to the end of the hall in search of it...\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT, 1992\n\n\n \n STARKS lies recovering under a small light above his hospital\n bed. His body bears marks of the brutalization. As we pull\n back, we see DR. LORE", " And you, Mr. Starks?\n\n \n STARKS [Already on the defense]\n I'm fine.\n\n \n\n DR. LORENSON\n Mr. MacKenzie, do you think I could\n talk to Mr. Starks privately?\n\n \n\n MACKENZIE\n Of course you can, Doc. William, it\n was an absolute pleasure. Thanks for\n playing.\n\n \n Just before he", "CHIATRIC HOSPITAL, DAY\n\n\n \n A white VAN pulls up to Alpine Grove Psychiatric Hospital -- a\n bleak, dated facility embellished only by the barbed wire\n that seems to be everywhere around it.\n\n \n\n 11.\n\n \n STARKS' anatomy instantly and intensely separates him from\n the staff of the hospital and the infirm patients who might\n be in it. TWO MEMBERS of that STAFF", "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "2\n\n\n \n STARKS looks out on the SNOW-COVERED GROUNDS from his room on\n the third floor. He seems pacified for the moment.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, RECOVERY WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY\n\n\n \n Everything about the dingy hospital punctuates the sad\n mechanics of managing madness. CATATONIC PATIENTS and dated\n equipment litter the hall and, as we follow a NURSE who walks\n", "BANDAGED CHEEK, reinforcing his memory of what\n happened...\n\n \n STARKS [Provokingly]\n What happened to your cheek, Dr.\n Becker?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I was careless. Happens sometimes.\n\n \n\n FADE TO:\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, RECOVERY WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY, 199", "trying to mask his dismay but failing.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You don't believe me.\n\n \n LORENSON [Testing him]\n Well, what year do you think it is\n now?\n STARKS [Exasperated]\n I'm not delusional. I know it's 1992.\n Same as every sane person.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Ok fine. Tell", "\n Then he turns and walks out, closing the door so that Starks'\n room and the screen darken at the same time.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, ALPINE GROVE, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1992\n\n\n \n TWO PAIRS of legs walk down a corridor, darkened by the\n night, through the now familiar passage to the basement...\n\n \n STARKS is not restrained this time though we don't see who is\n walking down the", "]\n I don't know. You tell me, Doc. You\n think there's anything wrong with me?\n\n \n\n DR. LORENSON\n I don't know. You're not my patient.\n\n \n STARKS looks away. Lorenson gives him a once over.\n\n \n\n DR. LORENSON\n You look like you've lost some\n weight. Are you eating?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", " STARKS shakes his head and momentarily challenges Lorenson\n simply with his air of calm resolve.\n\n STARKS\n Not everyone in here is crazy, Doc.\n\n \n LORENSON searches for another approach.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n [Beat] Like who? Like MacKenzie\n maybe?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Maybe.\n\n \n LORENSON [Matter-of-", "\n STARKS just stares at Becker, waiting for the realization to\n hit him, too.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How did you come to know their\n names?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You just told me. The last time I\n was with you was when I was in the\n Jacket. I'm in it right now, Dr.\n Becker.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't", ". He\n pauses, trying to recall as much of it as he can.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n And what about your work with Eugene --\n the kid? Is that another facet of my\n delusions?\n\n \n LORENSON -- having prepared to continue -- is bowled over at\n the mention of her patient. She loses all color and calm in\n her features.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n How do you know about Eugene?\n", " STARKS\n I can't stay long. [Motioning to\n Lorenson] That's my doctor and I\n gotta get back to the hospital.\n Everything I want to say is in this\n letter. [Beat] You can check as\n much of it as you can.\n\n \n STARKS hands her the LETTER.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I won't be around when you read\n it...but I hope you believe it.", "\n\n 113.\n\n \n\n SALLY\n Me, too.\n\n \n LORENSON looks after her as she leaves.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU WARD, ALPINE GROVE, MORNING, 1992\n\n\n \n LORENSON wakes up as STARKS stirs in his sleep, slowly waking\n up.\n\n \n\n LOREN" ], [ "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. I'm not his son. I'm him. [Beat]\n What? You look like you've seen a\n ghost. You can come here and touch\n me, old man. I'm the real thing.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How...how are you here?\n\n \n STARKS looks at Becker -- each a terrifying reminder of the\n other's past.\n\n \n\n", " LORENSON\n Come on. Tell me what you do know.\n\n STARKS\n [Beat] I've seen a time that's not\n this time. And I'm only able to see\n it when I'm in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well, what time is it?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n\n 2004.\n\n \n LORENSON nods,", "S\n Jackie? Jackie?\n\n \n Sure enough, she answers with a STIR in her sleep.\n\n JACKIE\n Hm...\n\n \n We see, in STARKS' eyes, the unbelievable connection: she is\n the same little girl he met only a few weeks ago in 1992.\n\n \n STARKS [Swallowing, softly]\n Jackie? [Beat] What year is it?\n\n \n J", "[pronounced\n \"absance\"] seizures when he stares\n off into space like he does. He has\n them so often that that's why he\n hasn't learned to speak properly.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Who told you this?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You did, in the future. You figured\n it out because a part of you already\n knows this. That's how it works.\n [Beat]", "\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n What about the world?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I didn't see that much of it -- same\n as now. I only saw it as part of my\n own life.\n\n \n LORENSON looks at STARKS, unintentionally patronizing.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Do you think you're traveling in\n time? Is that it?\n\n \n", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n It's December 25th, 1993 today.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, it's not. [Beat] It's December\n 25th, 2004.\n\n \n STARKS [Desperate]\n That can't be. That's...just, I\n mean... You're telling me I died in\n less than a week in the", "S.\n\n \n STARKS [Softly]\n I don't belong here. I don't...\n\n \n STARKS falters but stays up. He turns to see a shell of an\n OLD MAN looking right through him with wooden eyes. STARKS'\n eyes stay so completely fixed on the old man's haunting sight\n that he doesn't see what's ahead of him.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n He bumps right", "'S NECK as a small child's HAND touches it.\n\n \n\n 2) INT. STAIRWAY, OLD HOUSE (STARKS' CHILDHOOD HOME): STARKS,\n\n aged 9, running up the stairs, knocking a PICTURE on the wall\n with his elbow...\n\n \n 3) C.U. A black and white PHOTOGRAPH of Starks' father, a\n much older version of himself.\n\n \n 4) EXT", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "AGE\n\n\n \n STARKS stands in the lighted tunnel, which only gets brighter\n as his heart races with fear in the first seconds that he's\n back in there. Then he sees an IMAGE of a WOMAN'S FOREHEAD\n that lulls him to a calm until his heart slows and the LIGHT\n gradually dims...\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n INT. DINER", "[Slightly apprehensive]\n No, I don't. I just remember them\n finding his body.\n\n STARKS\n You don't know any more, Damon?\n\n \n DAMON [Shocked]\n How'd you know my name?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n My father used to talk about you.\n\n \n\n DAMON\n Oh yeah, what'd he say?\n\n ", "behind, we\n see a head of GREY HAIR. He slowly turns around, casting a\n look towards the door and revealing a glimpse of his face.\n Though it's aged slightly, it hasn't softened.\n\n \n\n EXT. CHURCH, SHELBOURNE, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE and STARKS watch as the people file out of Church.\n They are leaning against her car when STARKS spots him.\n\n \n DR. BECKER walks", ".\n\n \n That's enough to confirm for BECKER who STARKS is.\n\n \n All around them, people leaving Church socialize routinely --\n unaware of the haunted history being made between them.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Who are you?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I think you know. Your eyes say you\n do.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n [Beat] You're his son?", "\n he's written to her.\n\n \n\n INT. LORENSON'S CAR, DUSK, 1992\n\n\n \n LORENSON looks over to STARKS, who stares painfully out the\n window. They drive on in silence.\n\n \n\n STARKS (V.O.)\n I was 25 years old the first time I\n died. It didn't end anything though.\n [Beat] Sometimes I think we live\n", "S\n I'm about to die unless I do\n something to stop it.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n And how do you know that?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Because of the future. I know what's\n going to happen.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n William, that is just another facet\n of my delusions.\n\n \n Then, STARKS remembers the only thing that might help him", "trying to mask his dismay but failing.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You don't believe me.\n\n \n LORENSON [Testing him]\n Well, what year do you think it is\n now?\n STARKS [Exasperated]\n I'm not delusional. I know it's 1992.\n Same as every sane person.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Ok fine. Tell", "aid of his walker. He is far less threatening to STARKS\n today...just a senile man about to walk into a wall.\n\n \n STARKS [Getting up to help him]\n Let's get you a destination other\n than this wall.\n\n \n RUDY MACKENZIE -- 40s, smart eyes, fidgety, with an innocent\n face -- watches STARKS help turn the OLD MAN around.\n\n \n\n MACKENZ", "The terrible question asks itself on his\n face: Is this when Starks is killed?\n\n \n STARKS [Turning around sharply]\n What are you going to do to me?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well...\n\n \n As LORENSON reaches into his POCKET for something, STARKS\n anxiously holds his breath. It's BLACK when it comes out and...\n a SKI HAT when it opens up. STARKS lets out his breath,\n", "senile he\n marshals; STARKS stares him back -- deliberately conceding\n that he's right.\n\n \n STARKS turns around -- only then looking stunned in the\n sterile, cotton-white room, wondering where his life\n disappeared to.\n\n \n\n INT. DR. BECKER'S OFFICE, ALPINE GROVE, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS sits opposite DR. BECKER in a harsh, tiled office.\n STARKS wears his blue", "\n STARKS just stares at Becker, waiting for the realization to\n hit him, too.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How did you come to know their\n names?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You just told me. The last time I\n was with you was when I was in the\n Jacket. I'm in it right now, Dr.\n Becker.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't" ], [ "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "smoking those\n in your condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll die either way.\n\n \n LORENSON pulls up a chair and sits opposite him.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n I can't try to help you unless you\n let me. [Beat] I know about the\n Jacket.\n\n \n STARKS waits to see what this means.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n ", ". HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE and STARKS speed on the highway. As STARKS sleeps,\n JACKIE keeps looking over at him like it's a way to make sure\n he stays with her.\n\n \n\n INT. HOSPITAL, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE helps STARKS -- who's severely weakened at this point --\n to the nurse's", "This time he seems situated, and hopeful. After a slightly\n longer wait than the first time, JACKIE walks out -- in the\n same way as before except that she wears a NURSE'S UNIFORM\n and an unmistakable air of vitality.\n\n \n Jackie looks directly at Starks and we see the same\n attraction between them teeming even more than before. Even\n as a physically injured man in jeans and a flannel, with a\n BLEEDING CUT on his head and no coat in the cold,", ", lying on the hospital bed, next to\n him, smoothing his sweating head.\n\n \n\n 109.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n William, please, honey, wake up.\n For me.\n\n \n STARKS' eyes flutter open.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Can you hear me?\n\n \n STARKS nods; JACKIE tries to continue without choking up.\n\n ", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "sign of\n Starks. JACKIE falls to her knees, right there, on the\n bathroom floor and cries out like a woman only beginning to\n realize how unfathomably deep her heart is...\n\n INT. ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n STARKS is suddenly in the waiting area outside Lorenson's\n office -- still severely weakened.\n\n \n He walks slowly to the OFFICE DOOR and feebly knocks.\n LORENSON answers and STARKS falls", " BECKER\n Now, if you'll excuse me, it's\n Christmas, and I have a family I'd\n like to see.\n\n \n\n INT. ROOM, INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, ALPINE GROVE, CHRISTMAS DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS, IV in arm, lies asleep in bed, recovering...\n\n \n\n INT. HOSPITAL, VERMONT\n\n\n \n JACKIE walks in", "station. CLAIRE is there.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Claire, I need help.\n\n \n CLAIRE helps JACKIE, and they take him into a room. From\n afar, we hear CLAIRE asking about him.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What's happening to me? Why am I\n getting so much weaker?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Because your body can only take so\n ", ", DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS convalesces in a navy hospital bed -- his head heavily\n BANDAGED and his arms suited with I.V.'s and dressings -- as a\n MAJOR, a LIEUTENANT and a DOCTOR stand above him.\n\n \n STARKS' face -- now cleaned of the blood that masked it before --\n is alert, and striking. Even with the bandages, he remains\n well-built and strong, like a shot straight to the head would\n have been the", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "NSON standing guard over him at the foot\n of his bed.\n\n \n\n EXT. WARD, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits by a window -- I.V.'s in his arm -- smoking feebly,\n still severely weak from the Jacket, while DR. LORENSON\n observes him for a bit from the hall before she goes inside.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You'll die if you keep", "ACKIE\n Then, where are you going?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nowhere. [Beat] I just think I'm\n gonna be sick.\n STARKS moves towards the bathroom of the hospital room.\n JACKIE moves to help him and he motions for her to stop.\n STARKS falters in the doorway when he turns to look back at\n Jackie -- like it might be for the last time.\n\n \n JACKIE [In a whisper", "How can you say that in your physical\n condition? Do you realize that it's\n because you were put in it that\n you're as...weak as you are now?\n Becker's a man who's not well\n himself.\n\n \n STARKS searches for words that won't sound as crazy as he\n knows he appears. They don't exist.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You don't understand.\n\n \n\n LO", "over his chin and\n cheek as he thinks of what to do.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nice to meet you, Jackie. Why don't\n you wrap this scarf around yourself\n and try to keep your mom awake while\n I take a look at your car.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n As Starks works on their engine, JACKIE anxiously watches her\n mother throw up in the distance. ST", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", " a cut. We can get it fixed.\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 127.\n\n \n JACKIE (cont'd)\n But we need to get you to the\n hospital now. How'd you get that?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I fell down. [Beat] But I'm alive.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her -- immensely relieved and grateful.\n\n \n", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n " ], [ "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", " \n\n STARKS\n Your mom take anything before this\n happened?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Yeah, but I don't know what.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What's your name?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Jackie.\n\n \n JACKIE decidedly sticks out her gloved hand. STARKS smiles\n and briefly shakes it. STARKS rubs a hand", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", " \n JACKIE runs her little gloved hand over her mom's ski-hatted\n head as she cautiously watches STARKS approach them. He cuts\n an arresting figure against the empty landscape.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Come on, mom. Don't fall asleep...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You two ok?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Our car won't start.\n\n \n\n ", ".\n\n \n STARKS shakes his head, looking at her. She looks beautiful,\n and still hopeful. Her life lays ahead of her and her fate --\n when he found her in 2004 -- remains as distant as possible\n from this innocent, still promising image.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie, how have you been?\n\n \n\n 119.\n\n \n JACKIE smiles; she doesn't get asked that often.\n\n", " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE", "]\n You come back to me...\n\n \n STARKS nods, then goes in and closes the door behind him.\n JACKIE stares after him -- alone in the total silence of the\n room. She listens for the slightest noise and that's when she\n actually hears the sound of the DRAWER being opened for\n herself.\n\n \n She realizes he's gone. She RUSHES after him, opens the door\n in a fit, and then, sees what she feared most: no", " He looks outside and sees a few people walking into the FOOD\n MART of the gas station. He trembles with cold as he looks\n down at his plaid shirt.\n Then, JACKIE unexpectedly appears outside the DRIVER'S WINDOW\n opening the car door and nearly spilling her COFFEE when she\n spots STARKS next to her.\n\n \n Seeing it's him though, she smiles warmly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You just scared me, that's", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", "ONE\n suddenly rings.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Sorry, one sec.\n\n \n JACKIE answers it, smiling.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey! How are you? [Beat] Thanks. I\n was just thinking about you, too.\n\n \n STARKS listens nervously to her conversation and the\n affection in her voice.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Listen, I gotta go, mom, '", "JACKIE\n What for?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] In case you get lost, or can't\n remember who you are.\n\n \n JACKIE [Still looking at them]\n Hm.\n\n \n STARKS unties them and gives them to her. She reads them.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I think I can remember what's on\n them.\n\n \n\n ", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "damn medieval...Jacket. He's\n probably the one who killed you.\n\n \n And with those words, JACKIE starts to break down.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No one's killing anyone.\n\n \n STARKS takes her hand and runs it over his head.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Touch me. I'm okay.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her with love, understanding and, for the\n first time,", "of the Jacket. He nudges her gently.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie?\n\n \n JACKIE stirs her eyes to look at him.\n\n \n STARKS [Somewhat urgently]\n Where do you live?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n When we first met, when you were 7,\n where was the house you lived in\n ", "ARKS sees her watching and\n tries to distract her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What do you think of all this snow?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him curiously.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] Nothing.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her and smiles at her honest answer; Jackie\n turns her head back towards her mother.\n\n \n\n 6.\n\n \n\n JACK" ], [ "highway just after the sun\n has set, and just after he helped JEAN and JACKIE, on that\n fateful day...\n\n \n This time we see a CAR stop for him from a much closer\n distance. TENNY pulls up towards STARKS and rolls down the\n window on the passenger side. STARKS bends down to be able to\n see the driver.\n\n \n\n TENNY\n Hey, Mister, you need a ride?\n\n \n\n STARK", ".\n\n \n STARKS nods slowly. The WAITRESS gets in her car and looks\n again at STARKS in her REARVIEW MIRROR. He has hardly any\n winter gear on him -- no gloves, no hat, no coat -- just jeans\n and a flannel. He looks lost among his surroundings, as much\n because he doesn't know where he is as because he doesn't\n look like he belongs there.\n\n \n She reverses towards him.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS", "S\n Where are you going?\n\n \n\n TENNY\n I'm going to Canada but I can let\n you ride with me up to the border.\n\n \n STARKS considers this.\n\n \n\n TENNY\n Can you drive?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Sure.\n\n \n\n TENNY\n Great, get in. We'll switch off in\n a bit.\n\n", " \n JACKIE runs her little gloved hand over her mom's ski-hatted\n head as she cautiously watches STARKS approach them. He cuts\n an arresting figure against the empty landscape.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Come on, mom. Don't fall asleep...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You two ok?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Our car won't start.\n\n \n\n ", "\n In case you hadn't figured, it's\n Christmas Eve. You're never gonna get\n a cab here.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] Thanks.\n\n \n She looks him over and then rests her hands on the wheel.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n All right. [Beat] You got somewhere\n you need to go, Mister?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'm", "KE upwards and following it with his eyes.\n He's finished with these men and everything they stand for.\n\n \n\n STARKS [V.O.]\n I didn't know where my home was. I\n just knew I didn't want to be there\n anymore.\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS -- recovered now -- walks by himself along a long\n highway. He seems to", ". Yeah,\n thanks. Merry Christmas to you, too.\n\n \n She hangs up the phone.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Great. That was our last option. What\n am I going to do with you?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nothing. [Getting up] Thanks for\n bringing me this far.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Where are you going? You'll freeze\n out there. You don", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his", " \n STARKS looks at her without answering. JACKIE wipes her eyes,\n fastens STARKS' seat belt, and seeing that Starks' EYES have\n started to flutter, starts driving. In the distance, the\n barely audible sound of the DRAWER opening, and their time\n ending, is heard.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Where are we going?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n To the hospital.\n\n \n\n EXT", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "you got a coat or something?\n\n \n STARKS [Looking down at his clothes]\n No. Doesn't look like it.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Well, how'd you get here?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] I was dropped off.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Do you have a motel or something?\n Money?\n\n \n STARKS feels his pockets", "not sure.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Let me ask you that again. This time,\n look around and consider your\n options.\n\n \n Being cold and freezing are his options.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n [Beat] You got somewhere you need to\n go, Mister?\n\n \n STARKS [Nodding slowly]\n Yeah, I do.\n\n \n\n 30.", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", " He looks outside and sees a few people walking into the FOOD\n MART of the gas station. He trembles with cold as he looks\n down at his plaid shirt.\n Then, JACKIE unexpectedly appears outside the DRIVER'S WINDOW\n opening the car door and nearly spilling her COFFEE when she\n spots STARKS next to her.\n\n \n Seeing it's him though, she smiles warmly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You just scared me, that's", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", "'t even have a\n coat.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'll manage.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n No, you won't. You'll die of cold out\n there and then I'll have to feel\n guilty. And I've already got more\n guilt than I know what to do with.\n [Beat] Do you want something to\n drink?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No", " Neither do I, ma'am. I'll be on my\n way.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Mom, you've got it wrong...\n\n \n STARKS motions for JACKIE to stop as he collects his bags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You're just gonna walk?\n\n \n\n 7.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yeah, I'll hitch a", " at for no good reason...\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Oh, yeah.\n\n \n\n 120.\n\n \n She gives him a once over, and, seeing how weakened he looks,\n decides intuitively he can't be much harm. She also notices\n LORENSON waiting by the car.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n There something you need?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n ", "\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Great, get in.\n\n \n\n INT. WAITRESS' CAR\n\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n So, where do you want me to drop you?\n\n \n STARKS rubs his hand over his chin and cheek as he thinks it\n over. She watches him curiously.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'm not sure.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n", " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE" ], [ "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "\n\n\n \n As the SUN starts to rise, we see STARKS -- now cleaned up --\n recovering in his bed. He is unconscious. From his window, we\n look down and see Dr. Lorenson's car pulling into the lot...\n\n \n\n FADE TO:\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING\n\n\n \n LORENSON, still wearing her winter gear, walks into Starks", "\n \n STARKS has no idea what's happening to him as they drag him\n out, and his STIFLED CRIES ensure no one else does either.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n Come on, army boy. Time for some\n therapy.\n\n \n\n 15.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The first face STARK", ", DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS convalesces in a navy hospital bed -- his head heavily\n BANDAGED and his arms suited with I.V.'s and dressings -- as a\n MAJOR, a LIEUTENANT and a DOCTOR stand above him.\n\n \n STARKS' face -- now cleaned of the blood that masked it before --\n is alert, and striking. Even with the bandages, he remains\n well-built and strong, like a shot straight to the head would\n have been the", " among them, we spot STARKS -- ARMS suspended in air and GLAZED\n EYES fixed on the ceiling -- pretending to be one of them.\n\n \n\n 55.\n\n \n His ARMS fall and he wipes his dried MOUTH as soon as she\n passes. STARKS has successfully made it out of his room. She\n turns one corner as STARKS hustles to turn another...\n\n \n\n INT. DAY ROOM, ALPINE GROVE", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "KE upwards and following it with his eyes.\n He's finished with these men and everything they stand for.\n\n \n\n STARKS [V.O.]\n I didn't know where my home was. I\n just knew I didn't want to be there\n anymore.\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS -- recovered now -- walks by himself along a long\n highway. He seems to", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", "\n \n STARKS leans down -- seemingly oblivious to the cold -- and\n lifts some snow to his mouth, TASTING it like a man who needs\n to affirm he is still alive. He's so rapt that LORENSON's\n VOICE takes him by surprise.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Hey. You're not supposed to be out\n here.\n STARKS stiffens as he realizes he could be in the place where\n his body was found.", "has\n ever been before -- looks at his mother and Lorenson. He\n doesn't know what's happened but he is aware, and awake,\n like never before.\n\n \n EUGENE picks right up where he and Lorenson left off.\n\n \n\n EUGENE\n Dog. [To Talia] Hi.\n\n \n TALIA and LORENSON look at him and each other at shock.\n STARKS [O.S., distantly]\n You're", "I'm just telling you something\n you already know, even if you haven't\n realized it.\n\n \n STARKS closes his eyes, gathering what strength he can.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I don't know when it'll happen but\n soon I think, you'll shock the boy\n and it'll wake him up.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n What are you talking about?\n\n \n\n ST", "S.\n\n \n STARKS [Softly]\n I don't belong here. I don't...\n\n \n STARKS falters but stays up. He turns to see a shell of an\n OLD MAN looking right through him with wooden eyes. STARKS'\n eyes stay so completely fixed on the old man's haunting sight\n that he doesn't see what's ahead of him.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n He bumps right", "with\n them. They might even knock someone out...\n\n \n DAMON and HARDING move to undress him, when STARKS makes a\n move to do it himself. They look to DR. BECKER who NODS that\n it's all right.\n\n \n DAMON begrudgingly lets go of Starks but not before he steps\n on one of Starks' bare feet.\n\n \n STARKS doesn't flinch. He merely turns away from them and\n bends down to", "\n\n \n STARKS examines himself -- looking at his arms, spotting the\n BRUISES on them.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n That's right, William.\n\n \n STARKS [Slowly figuring it out]\n\n 1992?\n\n \n BECKER nods. STARKS sits up -- his predicament and the room\n slowly coming into focus.\n\n \n\n 52.\n", "words: I.\n Don't. Know. What would it be if we\n could all not know what we didn't\n want to have to face.\n\n \n BECKER glances at his WATCH and gets up -- still blurred in\n Starks' P.O.V. It's only as he's walking off that Starks\n notices he has a limp.\n\n \n\n FADE TO:\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, ALPINE G", "s house melt away as STARKS suddenly\n faces the massacred village in Iraq. Shocked at what's\n happening to his body, he looks up, petrified. His body is\n wound as tightly as a knot.\n\n \n\n 45.\n\n \n\n EXT. IRAQI VILLAGE, NIGHT, 1991\n\n\n \n Again, we're glimpsing the scene through PHOSPHORESCENT GREEN\n NIGHT VIS", " STARKS\n Good.\n\n \n STARKS walks away slowly and WEAKLY -- a fact that doesn't\n escape LORENSON's observation.\n\n \n\n 22.\n\n \n\n INT. MEN'S ROOM, ALPINE GROVE HOSPITAL, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS walks into the bathroom, keenly eyeing the thin slit\n of WINDOWS at the top of the wall. He walks closer to", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is trying to see if the windows open through the bars\n covering them. It's especially hard with the I.V. still\n connected to one of his arms.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n At least it's some kind of bars we've\n got you behind.\n\n \n STARKS turns, startled.\n\n \n\n 92.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Hello, William.", "the edge.\n\n \n STARKS' EYES roll back into his head and start to flutter,\n shaking the SCREEN right along them until...\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE\n\n\n \n STARKS stands outside his body, looking at the wall of\n drawers he is in. He bends down to look more closely at a\n STAIN on the floor -- DRIED BLOOD -- and as he runs his HAND over\n it and" ], [ "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", "factly]\n Did he tell you he tried to kill his\n wife?\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n MacKenzie locked himself up in his\n house for two months and nearly\n starved himself to death before he\n was brought here. All because his\n wife left him for another man.\n\n \n STARKS moves to put his cigarette out and his I.V. almost\n falls out of his arm. LORE", "KE upwards and following it with his eyes.\n He's finished with these men and everything they stand for.\n\n \n\n STARKS [V.O.]\n I didn't know where my home was. I\n just knew I didn't want to be there\n anymore.\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS -- recovered now -- walks by himself along a long\n highway. He seems to", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "ARKS nods as a muffled \"Objection\" flickers away in the\n background...\n\n \n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n I may need to actually hear that\n answer, Mr. Starks.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] Yes.\n With Starks' answer, the background of the courtroom is\n suddenly illuminated and we see that THIS IS STARKS' OWN\n TRIAL. The VOICE belongs to a satisfied PROSECUT", ". Yeah,\n thanks. Merry Christmas to you, too.\n\n \n She hangs up the phone.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Great. That was our last option. What\n am I going to do with you?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nothing. [Getting up] Thanks for\n bringing me this far.\n\n \n\n WAITRESS\n Where are you going? You'll freeze\n out there. You don", "gavel delivering a distant judgment...\n\n \n STARKS [V.O., nearly whispered]\n I don't know how it happened.\n STARKS' eyes finally close as he lapses into unconsciousness.\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE nods as he hands the JURY FOREMAN back the verdict.\n\n \n\n JURY FOREMAN\n On the count of", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", "The terrible question asks itself on his\n face: Is this when Starks is killed?\n\n \n STARKS [Turning around sharply]\n What are you going to do to me?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well...\n\n \n As LORENSON reaches into his POCKET for something, STARKS\n anxiously holds his breath. It's BLACK when it comes out and...\n a SKI HAT when it opens up. STARKS lets out his breath,\n", "nearly sending him down.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n No. That's not necessary.\n\n \n BECKER looks down and sees his own BLOOD fall on the floor.\n He looks up at STARKS who, even in his pain, looks shocked at\n the force he just used.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Let him go. [More firmly] I said, let\n him go!\n\n \n As soon as they let him go, STARKS", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How...how do you know?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You told me this was how it\n happened.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I did?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Yeah.\n\n \n STARKS clutches his side in pain as they prepare to take him\n out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Who", " \n\n BECKER\n You killed him?\n\n \n STARKS simply delivers one slow nod.\n\n \n\n 93.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n And wound up in a better cage. [Beat]\n But I still want to make a deal.\n\n \n BECKER looks understandably disgusted and STARKS proceeds\n with the calculation of someone who is guilty.\n\n \n\n STARK", ", DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS convalesces in a navy hospital bed -- his head heavily\n BANDAGED and his arms suited with I.V.'s and dressings -- as a\n MAJOR, a LIEUTENANT and a DOCTOR stand above him.\n\n \n STARKS' face -- now cleaned of the blood that masked it before --\n is alert, and striking. Even with the bandages, he remains\n well-built and strong, like a shot straight to the head would\n have been the", " police officer.\n\n \n STARKS [Correcting him]\n Alleged killing of a police officer.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You were convicted of the crime.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n That conviction doesn't convince me\n of anything. Until I know that I did\n it, I'm not going to accept that I\n did.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You may", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", "Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. [Beat] You put me on drugs and\n then you put me in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n 105.\n\n \n BECKER [Stoically]\n I was sorry when I heard you died.\n I was, but...how was I to know you\n didn't shoot that police officer?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n The same way" ], [ "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "him]\n Dr. Becker! Dr. Becker!...Tom, wait!\n\n \n DR. BECKER stops walking and waits a moment, registering the\n voice, before he turns around to face Dr. Lorenson.\n\n \n LORENSON [Out of breath]\n Where's William Starks?\n\n BECKER\n He's recovering on the third floor.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Are you kidding me? He", "It was banned, you know... and it led\n to an investigation of Dr. Becker's\n mistreatment of some of his patients.\n That's when they found out how badly\n he was drugging his patients...\n\n \n STARKS [Starting to make sense]\n So he was giving me all kinds of\n drugs...\n\n \n JACKIE [Nodding]\n Apparently. He was taking a lot of\n them, too. It said", " BECKER\n It was part of the treatment I\n intended...I didn't know what the\n effects would be...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n So, what, you guinea pig sick people\n to find out?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n The three of you weren't regular\n patients. You were criminals that\n ended up at Alpine Grove.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No", "\n BECKER\n Mr. Starks, this session is for our\n civil patients. Damon, please take\n Mr. Starks back to his ward.\n STARKS cuts him off and threatens with his gaze.\n\n \n STARKS [Derisively]\n No. Please, Dr. Becker. You can strap\n me in a Jacket or even gag me, but\n please don't leave me out of therapy.\n This is where I feel like I", "what about Starks?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n What about Starks?\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n Should we be...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Should we be what? Trying to change\n him any way we can? [Beat] Yes.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n But the Jacket? I mean...should we be\n leaving him in like that?\n BECK", " much. [Beat] Just open the drawer.\n\n \n\n DR. GRIES\n We never should have done this to\n him...\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Well, what are we gonna do about it now?\n\n \n Nothing is Gries' answer. Still, Becker seems to share the\n concern.\n\n \n BECKER motions for them to open the drawer. They pull him\n out. STARKS looks cold and wrecked.\n\n", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "\n \n STARKS has no idea what's happening to him as they drag him\n out, and his STIFLED CRIES ensure no one else does either.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n Come on, army boy. Time for some\n therapy.\n\n \n\n 15.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The first face STARK", "arks to catch it.\n\n \n\n 53.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n You're just suffering from delusions\n that are unfortunately part of your\n condition.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Don't give me that. I know what's\n real, goddamnit! You strapped me in\n something and stuck me in a drawer.\n\n \n BECKER nods diagnostically. The NURSE'", "\n STARKS just stares at Becker, waiting for the realization to\n hit him, too.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How did you come to know their\n names?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You just told me. The last time I\n was with you was when I was in the\n Jacket. I'm in it right now, Dr.\n Becker.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I don't", "\n LORENSON looks at BECKER; he knows he's hiding something.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n He's not gonna end up like Casey,\n Tom. Whatever happened to him is not\n going to \"happen\" to Starks. I don't\n know what you're trying to do here\n ...but he's not a lab animal, Tom.\n You can't reprogram him no matter the\n drugs or the treatment.\n\n ", "RIES [Less muffled]\n Pulse is 16, temp, just a hair under\n 90. 'Bout right for three hours of\n psychosis.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n That's not enough, is it?\n\n \n BECKER looks at STARKS' battered body.\n\n \n BECKER [Wearily, indifferently]\n It's enough for now. Take him to the\n infir", "72.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n His body was found on January 1,\n 1993, but do you know if that was\n long after he had died?\n\n \n\n DR. MORGAN\n No, I don't. I'm sorry. I wish I knew\n more.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What about Dr. Thomas Becker or Dr.\n Loel Lorenson? There was also a Dr", "he was trying out\n behavior modification treatments that\n were banned back in the 70s -- \"womb\n treatment\" is the name he gave to\n what he did to you...\n\n \n STARKS [Cutting in]\n Womb? A fuckin' womb? What kind of\n animal did he come out of?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n But no one knew until after...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n After I", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is trying to see if the windows open through the bars\n covering them. It's especially hard with the I.V. still\n connected to one of his arms.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n At least it's some kind of bars we've\n got you behind.\n\n \n STARKS turns, startled.\n\n \n\n 92.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Hello, William.", "How can you say that in your physical\n condition? Do you realize that it's\n because you were put in it that\n you're as...weak as you are now?\n Becker's a man who's not well\n himself.\n\n \n STARKS searches for words that won't sound as crazy as he\n knows he appears. They don't exist.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You don't understand.\n\n \n\n LO", "\n\n BECKER\n No. I don't think you do either.\n [Beat] But neither of us can do\n anything about that.\n BECKER barely nods and STARKS is trussed in the JACKET with\n METAL CLAMPS. BECKER writes some details down, presumably\n about Starks' treatment.\n\n \n A CADAVER DRAWER -- just barely deep enough for a body or tall\n enough for the height of a nose -- is slid open", "BANDAGED CHEEK, reinforcing his memory of what\n happened...\n\n \n STARKS [Provokingly]\n What happened to your cheek, Dr.\n Becker?\n\n \n\n BECKER\n I was careless. Happens sometimes.\n\n \n\n FADE TO:\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, RECOVERY WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY, 199", "back\n and repeated three names...\n\n \n BECKER falters as he recalls his offenses.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n Of people like you. People I was just\n trying to help. They couldn't get\n worse so I thought, with medication,\n they might get...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Medication? What kind of meds do you\n chase with nights in a cadaver\n drawer?\n\n \n\n" ], [ "mary and let him recover there.\n\n \n\n INT. WARD, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits, totally disoriented, in the ward with the other,\n more vocally INSANE patients. He runs his hand uncertainly\n over the SCARS on his arm from the Jacket and looks around --\n not knowing where his PARANOIA ends and REALITY begins.\n\n \n The OLD MAN from the previous day is moving slowly with the\n ", "s ok.\n\n \n STARKS searches their blurred faces and stops on Becker's as\n they restrain him and give him more drugs.\n\n \n STARKS [To Becker]\n I don't belong here...\n\n \n BECKER [Angrily, to the ORDERLIES]\n Get him to his room.\n\n \n\n FADE TO BLACK.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM,", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", "\n \n STARKS has no idea what's happening to him as they drag him\n out, and his STIFLED CRIES ensure no one else does either.\n\n \n\n NURSE HARDING\n Come on, army boy. Time for some\n therapy.\n\n \n\n 15.\n\n \n\n INT. MORGUE, BASEMENT, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT\n\n\n \n The first face STARK", "ward, when she sees -- almost like a shadow -- a STRETCHER\n being wheeled down the hall. She finishes with the patient\n and runs to the end of the hall in search of it...\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, LATE NIGHT, 1992\n\n\n \n STARKS lies recovering under a small light above his hospital\n bed. His body bears marks of the brutalization. As we pull\n back, we see DR. LORE", "2\n\n\n \n STARKS looks out on the SNOW-COVERED GROUNDS from his room on\n the third floor. He seems pacified for the moment.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, RECOVERY WARD, ALPINE GROVE, DAY\n\n\n \n Everything about the dingy hospital punctuates the sad\n mechanics of managing madness. CATATONIC PATIENTS and dated\n equipment litter the hall and, as we follow a NURSE who walks\n", "es color and his forever cool mien.\n After some seconds, STARKS passes out and BECKER -- hands\n trembling -- looks as though he might stick him back in when,\n instead, he starts to remove him from the Jacket himself. He\n silently and carefully unties each of the straps -- taking\n unusual care for Starks' flesh as he prepares to put him on a\n stretcher.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, EARLY MORNING", "sign of\n Starks. JACKIE falls to her knees, right there, on the\n bathroom floor and cries out like a woman only beginning to\n realize how unfathomably deep her heart is...\n\n INT. ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n STARKS is suddenly in the waiting area outside Lorenson's\n office -- still severely weakened.\n\n \n He walks slowly to the OFFICE DOOR and feebly knocks.\n LORENSON answers and STARKS falls", " among them, we spot STARKS -- ARMS suspended in air and GLAZED\n EYES fixed on the ceiling -- pretending to be one of them.\n\n \n\n 55.\n\n \n His ARMS fall and he wipes his dried MOUTH as soon as she\n passes. STARKS has successfully made it out of his room. She\n turns one corner as STARKS hustles to turn another...\n\n \n\n INT. DAY ROOM, ALPINE GROVE", ", DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS convalesces in a navy hospital bed -- his head heavily\n BANDAGED and his arms suited with I.V.'s and dressings -- as a\n MAJOR, a LIEUTENANT and a DOCTOR stand above him.\n\n \n STARKS' face -- now cleaned of the blood that masked it before --\n is alert, and striking. Even with the bandages, he remains\n well-built and strong, like a shot straight to the head would\n have been the", "\n I hereby sentence you to be committed\n to a facility for the criminally\n insane, where I hope that doctors and\n the proper treatment can help you...\n\n \n\n INT. COURTROOM, SMALL TOWN VERMONT\n\n\n \n The JUDGE sentences STARKS, who stares back vacantly, like a\n man who checked out of his life long before this judge\n decided he had to.\n\n \n\n EXT. ALPINE GROVE PSY", " STARKS\n Good.\n\n \n STARKS walks away slowly and WEAKLY -- a fact that doesn't\n escape LORENSON's observation.\n\n \n\n 22.\n\n \n\n INT. MEN'S ROOM, ALPINE GROVE HOSPITAL, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS walks into the bathroom, keenly eyeing the thin slit\n of WINDOWS at the top of the wall. He walks closer to", ". HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE and STARKS speed on the highway. As STARKS sleeps,\n JACKIE keeps looking over at him like it's a way to make sure\n he stays with her.\n\n \n\n INT. HOSPITAL, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE helps STARKS -- who's severely weakened at this point --\n to the nurse's", "NSON standing guard over him at the foot\n of his bed.\n\n \n\n EXT. WARD, ICU, ALPINE GROVE, NEXT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS sits by a window -- I.V.'s in his arm -- smoking feebly,\n still severely weak from the Jacket, while DR. LORENSON\n observes him for a bit from the hall before she goes inside.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n You'll die if you keep", "station. CLAIRE is there.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Claire, I need help.\n\n \n CLAIRE helps JACKIE, and they take him into a room. From\n afar, we hear CLAIRE asking about him.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What's happening to me? Why am I\n getting so much weaker?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Because your body can only take so\n ", "'\n room, anxiously checking his VITALS. Her anxious expression\n reveals Starks' frailty. She looks to the window then and\n sees an empty chair with only Becker's SCARF on it.\n\n \n LORENSON goes to the window in time to see BECKER getting\n into his car.\n\n \n\n INT. STARKS' ROOM, ICU WARD, ALPINE GROVE, LATER THAT MORNING\n\n\n \n STARKS lies unconscious in the", "\n Then he turns and walks out, closing the door so that Starks'\n room and the screen darken at the same time.\n\n \n\n INT. HALLWAY, ALPINE GROVE, NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1992\n\n\n \n TWO PAIRS of legs walk down a corridor, darkened by the\n night, through the now familiar passage to the basement...\n\n \n STARKS is not restrained this time though we don't see who is\n walking down the", "factly]\n Did he tell you he tried to kill his\n wife?\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n MacKenzie locked himself up in his\n house for two months and nearly\n starved himself to death before he\n was brought here. All because his\n wife left him for another man.\n\n \n STARKS moves to put his cigarette out and his I.V. almost\n falls out of his arm. LORE", "a hospital -- with many aspects parallel to\n the mental hospital. White on white and, for Jackie\n particularly, the presence of painful memories.\n\n \n\n INT. ROOM, INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, ALPINE GROVE, CHRISTMAS DAY\n\n\n \n LORENSON walks closer to STARKS and carefully examines the\n BRUISES and BURNS on a body that's been badly beaten. His\n eyes bear his guilt.\n\n \n\n INT. NURSE", "with\n them. They might even knock someone out...\n\n \n DAMON and HARDING move to undress him, when STARKS makes a\n move to do it himself. They look to DR. BECKER who NODS that\n it's all right.\n\n \n DAMON begrudgingly lets go of Starks but not before he steps\n on one of Starks' bare feet.\n\n \n STARKS doesn't flinch. He merely turns away from them and\n bends down to" ], [ "S\n Jackie? Jackie?\n\n \n Sure enough, she answers with a STIR in her sleep.\n\n JACKIE\n Hm...\n\n \n We see, in STARKS' eyes, the unbelievable connection: she is\n the same little girl he met only a few weeks ago in 1992.\n\n \n STARKS [Swallowing, softly]\n Jackie? [Beat] What year is it?\n\n \n J", " LORENSON\n Come on. Tell me what you do know.\n\n STARKS\n [Beat] I've seen a time that's not\n this time. And I'm only able to see\n it when I'm in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well, what time is it?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n\n 2004.\n\n \n LORENSON nods,", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", ".\n\n \n STARKS shakes his head, looking at her. She looks beautiful,\n and still hopeful. Her life lays ahead of her and her fate --\n when he found her in 2004 -- remains as distant as possible\n from this innocent, still promising image.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie, how have you been?\n\n \n\n 119.\n\n \n JACKIE smiles; she doesn't get asked that often.\n\n", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "still exists. I looked\n it up on the net. We should go there\n and see if there's still anyone\n around who might have known what\n happened to you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n If they don't take me out before\n then. [As an afterthought] What's the\n net?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him and laughs.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "of the Jacket. He nudges her gently.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie?\n\n \n JACKIE stirs her eyes to look at him.\n\n \n STARKS [Somewhat urgently]\n Where do you live?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n When we first met, when you were 7,\n where was the house you lived in\n ", " JACKIE [Laughing a little]\n Yes, you are alive. But, listen, it's\n New Year's Day. You're not going to\n get a cab. Especially not here. And\n you're gonna freeze if you stand out\n here in the snow much longer. I'm on\n my way back to my shift at the\n hospital...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You work there?\n\n \n JACKIE", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n It's December 25th, 1993 today.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, it's not. [Beat] It's December\n 25th, 2004.\n\n \n STARKS [Desperate]\n That can't be. That's...just, I\n mean... You're telling me I died in\n less than a week in the", "gets it more than she\n knows.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nothin' to worry about there.\n\n \n\n EXT. OVERHEAD, VERMONT HIGHWAY, 2005\n\n\n \n Jackie's car pulls onto the highway, alongside the other,\n more modern cars on the highway.\n\n JACKIE (O.S.)\n How you doin'?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I'", "table, still only 7 years\n old. Though STARKS expected it, he falters under the\n disappointment of seeing a girl he liked instead of the woman\n he loved. As she looks up at him, it's all he can do not to\n break down.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Hi.\n\n \n JACKIE [Surprised]\n Hey. [Beat] I remember you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I remember you, too", "...\n\n \n\n 70.\n\n \n JACKIE nods.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] You bled to death.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know how you got the cut to\n your head, but you died bleeding from\n it.\n\n \n STARKS [Digesting]\n", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", "ACKIE [In a drunken slumber]\n What?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What year is it?\n\n \n JACKIE [Barely opening her eyes]\n\n 2004.\n\n \n STARKS looks around as JACKIE moves in her sleep, almost\n falling off the couch. STARKS picks her up and, in her sleep,\n she WRAPS her arms around his neck.\n\n \n\n INT. BEDROOM,", " \n\n JACKIE\n I've been ok.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Good. How's your mom?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok, I guess.\n\n \n STARKS nods. JACKIE smiles. It's all he can do not to\n crumble.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Do you think I could see her?\n She looks at him and senses, like kids do", " JACKIE\n Maybe they're out.\n\n \n STARKS nods.\n\n \n\n 99.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKIE'S CAR, 2004, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS rubs his hands together as he looks out the windows\n and sees NO CARS or PEOPLE on the street. JACKIE watches him\n despairingly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n How much", ". HIGHWAY, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE and STARKS speed on the highway. As STARKS sleeps,\n JACKIE keeps looking over at him like it's a way to make sure\n he stays with her.\n\n \n\n INT. HOSPITAL, VERMONT, DAY, 2004\n\n\n \n JACKIE helps STARKS -- who's severely weakened at this point --\n to the nurse's", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his" ], [ " \n\n STARKS\n Your mom take anything before this\n happened?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Yeah, but I don't know what.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What's your name?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Jackie.\n\n \n JACKIE decidedly sticks out her gloved hand. STARKS smiles\n and briefly shakes it. STARKS rubs a hand", "\n his face as he can before he turns around to face her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] You be good to yourself,\n Jackie.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok.\n\n \n Then, suddenly, she sticks her hand for him to shake, as she\n did that day on the roadside; only now, it trembles slightly\n in the cold.\n\n \n STARKS takes JACKIE'S HAND and holds it in his", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", " \n JACKIE runs her little gloved hand over her mom's ski-hatted\n head as she cautiously watches STARKS approach them. He cuts\n an arresting figure against the empty landscape.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Come on, mom. Don't fall asleep...\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You two ok?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Our car won't start.\n\n \n\n ", "ARKS sees her watching and\n tries to distract her.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n What do you think of all this snow?\n\n \n JACKIE looks at him curiously.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n [Beat] Nothing.\n\n \n STARKS looks at her and smiles at her honest answer; Jackie\n turns her head back towards her mother.\n\n \n\n 6.\n\n \n\n JACK", " \n\n JACKIE\n I've been ok.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Good. How's your mom?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Ok, I guess.\n\n \n STARKS nods. JACKIE smiles. It's all he can do not to\n crumble.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Do you think I could see her?\n She looks at him and senses, like kids do", "\n Please...\n\n \n STARKS looks at her tenderly before he turns to leave.\n JACKIE, a little calmer, looks at the door like he's still on\n the other side of it and calls out softly, and sadly...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Happy Birthday.\n\n \n\n INT. JACKET/TUNNEL PASSAGE\n\n\n \n STARKS looks around him and, we see, from bottom up, the\n exterior around Jackie'", "in the snow.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n How'd he die?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n I don't know. But he did die.\n STARKS falters under the news. JACKIE looks around, through\n her now blurred eyes, like she might find some help in the\n apartment. She settles for the BOTTLE of VODKA on the table,\n lowers the iron fork and takes a long heavy drink, then\n laughs nervously", " Bye, Jackie.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n These are the hardest words STARKS has probably ever had to\n say. JACKIE just stares after him, as does JEAN, as he shows\n himself out.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Happy New Year to both of you.\n\n \n\n JEAN\n Thanks. You, too.\n\n \n\n EXT. JACKIE AND JE", "over his chin and\n cheek as he thinks of what to do.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Nice to meet you, Jackie. Why don't\n you wrap this scarf around yourself\n and try to keep your mom awake while\n I take a look at your car.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n As Starks works on their engine, JACKIE anxiously watches her\n mother throw up in the distance. ST", "\n JACKIE and STARKS sit inside the parked car as STARKS touches\n his head.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n That's all you got from him? That\n bastard helped take your life away\n from you.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No, he didn't.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n What? How can you say that? He's\n the one that put you in that\n god", "\n\n JACKIE\n William Starks is dead... [Beat] I've\n been to his grave.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n [Beat] What?\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n His body was found New Year's Day,\n 19...1993. At Alpine...\n\n \n STARKS [Finishing for her]\n Alpine Grove. That's the mental\n ", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "No, I don't have anything to show\n you. I'm here from a mental hospital.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Well, you belong in one.\n\n \n STARKS [Solemnly]\n [Beat] You and your mom were in a\n truck and she kept a rifle in the\n back of it...\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Stop it! Stop it!\n JACKIE covers her ears and looks at him", "ARKS\n No, I'll be ok.\n\n \n STARKS slowly makes his way to their front door and knocks on\n it as best as he can. The sound, however, is still\n understandably soft.\n\n \n STARKS waits and then reaches for the knob on the door. He\n opens it and looks inside. We first see his face, and the\n devastation on it, as we guess the sight he's laid eyes on.\n\n \n JACKIE is sitting at the kitchen", ".\n\n \n STARKS shakes his head, looking at her. She looks beautiful,\n and still hopeful. Her life lays ahead of her and her fate --\n when he found her in 2004 -- remains as distant as possible\n from this innocent, still promising image.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Jackie, how have you been?\n\n \n\n 119.\n\n \n JACKIE smiles; she doesn't get asked that often.\n\n", "ONE\n suddenly rings.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Sorry, one sec.\n\n \n JACKIE answers it, smiling.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey! How are you? [Beat] Thanks. I\n was just thinking about you, too.\n\n \n STARKS listens nervously to her conversation and the\n affection in her voice.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Listen, I gotta go, mom, '", " killed that officer and knowing\n nothing more about him. But what's it\n gonna do for me to find them now? I\n can't fix everything in three days.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You've got to get yourself out of\n that place. They're going to kill you\n if you don't.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I might not be able to.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n It", " Neither do I, ma'am. I'll be on my\n way.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Mom, you've got it wrong...\n\n \n STARKS motions for JACKIE to stop as he collects his bags.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You're just gonna walk?\n\n \n\n 7.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yeah, I'll hitch a", " He looks outside and sees a few people walking into the FOOD\n MART of the gas station. He trembles with cold as he looks\n down at his plaid shirt.\n Then, JACKIE unexpectedly appears outside the DRIVER'S WINDOW\n opening the car door and nearly spilling her COFFEE when she\n spots STARKS next to her.\n\n \n Seeing it's him though, she smiles warmly.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n You just scared me, that's" ], [ "[pronounced\n \"absance\"] seizures when he stares\n off into space like he does. He has\n them so often that that's why he\n hasn't learned to speak properly.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Who told you this?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You did, in the future. You figured\n it out because a part of you already\n knows this. That's how it works.\n [Beat]", " LORENSON\n Come on. Tell me what you do know.\n\n STARKS\n [Beat] I've seen a time that's not\n this time. And I'm only able to see\n it when I'm in the Jacket.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well, what time is it?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n\n 2004.\n\n \n LORENSON nods,", "me about it. Tell me\n about the future. 2004. What does it\n look like?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n It doesn't look all that different.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n The future doesn't look different?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. Not for people like me. [Beat]\n Not in the places I come from.\n\n \n\n 87.", "S\n I'm about to die unless I do\n something to stop it.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n And how do you know that?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Because of the future. I know what's\n going to happen.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n William, that is just another facet\n of my delusions.\n\n \n Then, STARKS remembers the only thing that might help him", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n It's December 25th, 1993 today.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n No, it's not. [Beat] It's December\n 25th, 2004.\n\n \n STARKS [Desperate]\n That can't be. That's...just, I\n mean... You're telling me I died in\n less than a week in the", "S.\n\n \n STARKS [Softly]\n I don't belong here. I don't...\n\n \n STARKS falters but stays up. He turns to see a shell of an\n OLD MAN looking right through him with wooden eyes. STARKS'\n eyes stay so completely fixed on the old man's haunting sight\n that he doesn't see what's ahead of him.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n He bumps right", "\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n What about the world?\n\n \n\n STARKS\n I didn't see that much of it -- same\n as now. I only saw it as part of my\n own life.\n\n \n LORENSON looks at STARKS, unintentionally patronizing.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Do you think you're traveling in\n time? Is that it?\n\n \n", "\n\n \n\n STARKS\n No. I'm not his son. I'm him. [Beat]\n What? You look like you've seen a\n ghost. You can come here and touch\n me, old man. I'm the real thing.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n How...how are you here?\n\n \n STARKS looks at Becker -- each a terrifying reminder of the\n other's past.\n\n \n\n", "S\n Jackie? Jackie?\n\n \n Sure enough, she answers with a STIR in her sleep.\n\n JACKIE\n Hm...\n\n \n We see, in STARKS' eyes, the unbelievable connection: she is\n the same little girl he met only a few weeks ago in 1992.\n\n \n STARKS [Swallowing, softly]\n Jackie? [Beat] What year is it?\n\n \n J", "STARKS is trapped: back on the day when Officer Harrison was\n murdered.\n\n \n\n FLASHBACK TO:\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, LATE AFTERNOON, 1992\n\n\n \n (Cont'd from the scene after STARKS left Jean and Jackie's\n place):\n\n \n\n 108.\n\n \n STARKS is walking back on the same", "\n MACKENZIE [Spoken like a nut]\n [Beat] We're talking about our\n ability to go forward in time, to go\n into the future. [To Starks] That is\n what we're talking about here, right?\n\n \n STARKS is startled MacKenzie gets it.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n Yeah, it is.\n\n \n\n HARDING\n You know something? You", "trying to mask his dismay but failing.\n\n \n\n STARKS\n You don't believe me.\n\n \n LORENSON [Testing him]\n Well, what year do you think it is\n now?\n STARKS [Exasperated]\n I'm not delusional. I know it's 1992.\n Same as every sane person.\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Ok fine. Tell", "The terrible question asks itself on his\n face: Is this when Starks is killed?\n\n \n STARKS [Turning around sharply]\n What are you going to do to me?\n\n \n\n LORENSON\n Well...\n\n \n As LORENSON reaches into his POCKET for something, STARKS\n anxiously holds his breath. It's BLACK when it comes out and...\n a SKI HAT when it opens up. STARKS lets out his breath,\n", "\n\n \n STARKS examines himself -- looking at his arms, spotting the\n BRUISES on them.\n\n \n\n BECKER\n That's right, William.\n\n \n STARKS [Slowly figuring it out]\n\n 1992?\n\n \n BECKER nods. STARKS sits up -- his predicament and the room\n slowly coming into focus.\n\n \n\n 52.\n", "STARKS is\n someone we see she wants to be near.\n\n \n Then we see JACKIE as STARKS does: she looks beautiful,\n alive, happy and just like the woman he never wanted to\n leave. She approaches Starks warmly, less suspicious of the\n world -- and less devastated by it -- than we remember her\n being.\n\n \n\n JACKIE\n Hey there. [Beat] You ok?\n\n \n STARKS revels in the moment. In their re", "\n\n\n \n STARKS is almost there. As RANDOM ORDERLIES pass him, STARKS\n lets his posture collapse as he despondently hangs his head\n down so low they can't see his face. They pass, and STARKS\n starts scuttling towards the door to the outside.\n\n \n As soon as he reaches it and is outside in the cold -- with\n only his BLUE PATIENT UNIFORM -- Starks walks normally, like\n he no longer remembers the", "STARKS tells her not to with\n his eyes. He makes his way to the car on his own.\n\n \n\n MONTAGE:\n\n \n\n INT. LIVING ROOM, JEAN AND JACKIE'S HOUSE, DAY, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 122.\n\n \n JEAN sits down and starts to open the LETTER. Starks' voice,\n as we hear it now, is presumably from parts of the LETTER", "KE upwards and following it with his eyes.\n He's finished with these men and everything they stand for.\n\n \n\n STARKS [V.O.]\n I didn't know where my home was. I\n just knew I didn't want to be there\n anymore.\n\n \n\n EXT. HIGHWAY, RURAL VERMONT, WINTER, DAY\n\n\n \n STARKS -- recovered now -- walks by himself along a long\n highway. He seems to", "sign of\n Starks. JACKIE falls to her knees, right there, on the\n bathroom floor and cries out like a woman only beginning to\n realize how unfathomably deep her heart is...\n\n INT. ALPINE GROVE, 2004\n\n\n \n STARKS is suddenly in the waiting area outside Lorenson's\n office -- still severely weakened.\n\n \n He walks slowly to the OFFICE DOOR and feebly knocks.\n LORENSON answers and STARKS falls", "ARKS\n You'll figure it out and you'll do\n good by him.\n\n \n That's all STARKS can manage before LORENSON sees he's about\n to pass out again.\n\n \n\n CUT TO:\n\n \n\n INT. LORENSON'S APARTMENT, NIGHT, 1992\n\n\n \n\n 115.\n\n \n LORENSON answers the KNOCK at" ] ]

[ "Who does Jack give his dogtags to?", "What is Jack accused of that lands him in a psychiatric hospital?", "Who is Jack's psychiatrist at the hospital?", "Where does Dr. Becker put Jack once he puts him in his straightjacket?", "What day does Jack die?", "What causes Jack to die?", "On Jack's last trip to the future, what is Jackie's job?", "Who took Jack to Jackie's house the day he died?", "Why does the judge not believe Jack when he says someone else was at the murder scene?", "What kind of wound did Jack Starks suffer?", "What war was Jack Starks in?", "Who did Jack Starks see near a broken-down truck as he was walking?", "What did Jackie ask Jack Starks for that he gave her?", "What crime was Starks accused of?", "What was Stark's punishment for the crime for which he was accused?", "Who is Stark's psychiatrist at the mental facility?", "Where does Stark travel when he is in a morgue drawer?", "Who is the doctor that takes Stark out of the mental facility briefly in 1993?", "Who does Stark meet an older version of in his time travels?", "What ailment does Jack Stark recover from?", "What does Stark give to Jackie?", "What happens after Stark accepts a ride from a passerby?", "Where does Stark find himself waking up?", "Where is Starks sent after the trial?", "What is Starks treatment at the hands of Dr. Thomas Becker?", "Where does Starks wind up during those treatments?", "What does Starks learn from Jackie on one of his visits to 2007?", "What does Starks give to Jackie's mother?", "What does Starks discover on his next trip to the future?" ]

[ [ "Jackie", "Jackie." ], [ "Killing a policeman.", "Killing a police officer, but Jack is found not guilty by reason of insanity." ], [ "Dr. Thomas Becker", "Dr. Thomas Becker" ], [ "A morgue drawer.", "morgue drawer" ], [ "January 1, 1993.", "January 1st, 1993 (New Year's Day)." ], [ "He slips on ice in front of the hospital and hurts his head.", "He cracks his head after slipping on some ice, and bleeds out from the wound." ], [ "A nurse.", "nurse" ], [ "Dr. Beth Lorenson", "Dr. Beth Lorenson." ], [ "He has bouts of amnesia.", "because of his amnesia" ], [ "bullet wound to the head", "bullet wound to the head" ], [ "Gulf War", "Gulf war" ], [ "Jackie and her alcoholic mother", "Jackie and her alcoholic mother." ], [ "his dogtags", "his dog tags" ], [ "murder of a police officer", "Murder" ], [ "He was sentenced to a mental facility ", "Starks punishment was to be incarcerated to a mental institution" ], [ "Tom Becker", "Dr. Thomas Becker" ], [ "15 years into the future", "Stark travels 15 years into the future in the morgue drawer." ], [ "Dr. Beth Lorenson", "Dr. Beth Lorensen" ], [ "Jackie", "Jackie." ], [ "A bullet wound to the head.", "Jack Stark recovers from a bullet wound to the head." ], [ "Stark gives her his dogtags.", "dogtags" ], [ "They are pulled over by a policeman.", "After Starks accepts a ride from a passerby, he realizes it is an older version of Jackie, who he knew much younger." ], [ "Next to the body of a dead policeman with a bullet in his torso.", "Stark wakes up in the year 2007." ], [ "He ends up in a mental instituton.", "mental institution" ], [ "He is bound in a straight-jacket and placed inside a morgue drawer.", "sensory deprivation" ], [ "He winds up 15 years in the future.", "15 years into the future" ], [ "That he passes away on New Year's Day 1993.", "Jackie has a better life" ], [ "A letter outlining the fate in store for herself if she doesn't change her ways.", "Starks gives Jackie's mother a letter which he has written himself." ], [ "That Jackie's life has turned around for the better.", "a letter he had written" ] ]

[ [ "that in\nsuch a sea. The men knew it as well as I, but still they stared\ninto the foam as if they had any chance of seeing the lost man. I\nlet the cook get into the rigging and joined the men, and asked\nif they had made a thorough search on board, though I knew they\nhad and that it could not take long, for he wasn't on deck, and\nthere was only the forecastle below.\n\n\"That sea took him over, sir, as sure as you're born,\" said one\nof the men close beside me.\n\nWe", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", ". I caught the cook by the foot, and asked who was\ngone.\n\n\"It's Jim Benton,\" he shouted down to me. \"He's not aboard this\nship!\"\n\nThere was no doubt about that. Jim Benton was gone; and I knew in\na flash that he had been taken off by that sea when we were\nsetting the storm trysail. It was nearly half an hour since then;\nshe had run like wild for a few minutes until we got her hove-to,\nand no swimmer that ever swam could have lived as long as", "I spoke again. \"Jack Benton, are you\nthere? Will you go if I will?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" answered a voice; and that was all.\n\nBy that time the old man was on deck, and I felt his hand on my\nshoulder rather roughly, as if he meant to shake me.\n\n\"I'd reckoned you had more sense, Mr. Torkeldsen,\" he said. \"God\nknows I would risk my ship to look for him, if it were any use;\nbut he must have gone half an hour ago.\"\n\n", "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "ship. They owed me a grudge for\nmaking them work during the last few days, and most of them\ndropped into the boat without so much as a word or a look, as\nsailors will. Jack Benton was the last to go over the side, and\nhe stood still a minute and looked at me, and his white face\ntwitched. I thought he wanted to say something.\n\n\"Take care of yourself, Jack,\" said I. \"So long!\"\n\nIt seemed as if he couldn't speak for two or three seconds; then\nhis words came thick.", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "said Captain Hackstaff, \"but it\nappears to me that's the tune that man was whistling the night we\nlost the man overboard. I don't know why it has stuck in my head,\nand of course it's all nonsense; but it seems to me that I have\nheard it all the rest of the trip.\"\n\nI didn't say anything to that, but I wondered just how much the\nold man had understood. Then we turned in, and I slept ten hours\nwithout opening my eyes.\n\nI stuck to the _Helen B.", "how it could have\nhappened, but I ran forward instinctively. I came upon the cook\nfirst, half-dressed in his shirt and trousers, just as he had\ntumbled out of his bunk. He was jumping into the main rigging,\nevidently hoping to see the man, as if any one could have seen\nanything on such a night, except the foam-streaks on the black\nwater, and now and then the curl of a breaking sea as it went\naway to leeward. Several of the men were peering over the rail\ninto the dark", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "I am\ntelling what I know about, and nothing else; and it has been on\nmy mind to tell you ever since it happened, only there hasn't\nbeen a chance.\n\nIt's a long story, and it took some time to happen; and it began\na good many years ago, in October, as well as I can remember. I\nwas mate then; I passed the local Marine Board for master about\nthree years later. She was the _Helen B. Jackson_, of New York,\nwith lumber for the West Indies, four-masted schoon", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "steering, the other\nwas everlastingly hanging round as if he were waiting to relieve\nthe wheel, though he might have been enjoying a quiet nap for all\nI cared in such weather. Or else, when one was taking his turn at\nthe lookout, the other would be sitting on an anchor beside him.\nOne kept near the other, at night more than in the daytime. I\nnoticed that. They were fond of sitting on that anchor, and they\ngenerally tucked away their pipes under it, for the _Helen B._\nwas a dry boat in most weather,", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "a little money, and having had a small legacy from\nan uncle in Norway, I got the command of a coastwise vessel, with\na small share in her. I was at home three weeks before going to\nsea, and Jack Benton saw my name in the local papers, and wrote\nto me.\n\nHe said that he had left the sea, and was trying farming, and he\nwas going to be married, and he asked if I wouldn't come over for\nthat, for it wasn't more than forty minutes by train; and he and\nMamie would be proud to have", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "So Mamie and I began to walk along the path, and Jack went up\ntoward the barn.\n\n\"It was sweet of you to come, captain,\" Miss Mamie began, \"for I\nhave always wanted to see you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, expecting something more.\n\n\"You see, I always knew them both,\" she went on. \"They used to\ntake me out in a dory to catch codfish when I was a little girl,\nand I liked them both,\" she added thoughtfully. \"Jack doesn't\ncare to talk about his brother now", "had no boat that could have lived in that sea, of course, and\nwe all knew it. I offered to put one over, and let her drift\nastern two or three cable's-lengths by a line, if the men thought\nthey could haul me aboard again; but none of them would listen to\nthat, and I should probably have been drowned if I had tried it,\neven with a life-belt; for it was a breaking sea. Besides, they\nall knew as well as I did that the man could not be right in our\nwake. I don't know why", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "you would least\nexpect to feel creepy. But I remembered how I had heard that same\ntune overhead at night in a gale of wind a fortnight earlier,\nand I am not ashamed to say that the same sensation came over\nme now, and I wished myself well out of the _Helen B._, and\naboard of any old cargo-dragger, with a windmill on deck, and an\neighty-nine-forty-eighter for captain, and a fresh leak whenever\nit breezed up.\n\nLittle by little during the next few days life" ], [ "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "the damp came up out of the sea and\nsettled on everything. Jack said he'd go down to his cottage and\nhave a last look, for the wedding was to be at five o'clock, or\nsoon after, and he wanted to light the lights, so as to have\nthings look cheerful.\n\n\"I will just take a last look,\" he said again, as we reached the\nhouse. We went in, and he offered me another cigar, and I lit it\nand sat down in the parlour. I could hear him moving about, first\nin the", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", ". We\nhad hardly shipped any water forward, and I suppose he had some\nway of tucking the pipe in, so that the rain hadn't floated it\noff. Presently he got on his legs again, and I saw that he had\ntwo pipes in his hand. One of them had belonged to his brother,\nand after looking at them a moment I suppose he recognised his\nown, for he put it in his mouth, dripping with water. Then he\nlooked at the other fully a minute without moving. When he had\nmade up his mind, I suppose, he quietly", "to\nwalk him down the pathway from the house. He walked him straight\ndown that path, as steadily as Fate; and all the time I saw the\nmoonlight shining on his wet oilskins. He walked him through the\ngate, and across the beach road, and out upon the wet sand, where\nthe tide was high. Then I got my breath with a gulp, and ran for\nthem across the grass, and vaulted over the fence, and stumbled\nacross the road. But when I felt the sand under my feet, the two\nwere at the water'", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "Jack made a show of pressing me to go with\nthem by the path as far as the cottage, instead of going to the\nstation by the beach road. It was all very quiet, and it seemed\nto me a sensible way of getting married; and when Mamie kissed\nher mother good-night I just looked the other way, and knocked my\nashes over the rail of the piazza. So they started down the\nstraight path to Jack's cottage, and I waited a minute with Mrs.\nBrewster, looking after them, before taking my hat to go. They\nwalked", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "through its block. The one who was steering watched him, and got\nas white as cheese. The other one was swinging about on the gaff\nend, and every time she rolled to leeward he brought up with a\njerk that would have sent anything but a monkey flying into\nspace. But he didn't leave it until he had rove the new rope, and\nhe got back all right. I think it was Jack at the wheel; the one\nthat seemed more cheerful, the one that whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" He\nhad rather have been doing the job himself than" ], [ "was Jack; James Benton and John Benton. The only difference I\never could see was, that one seemed to be rather more cheerful\nand inclined to talk than the other; but one couldn't even be\nsure of that. Perhaps they had moods. Anyhow, there was one of\nthem that used to whistle when he was alone. He only knew one\ntune, and that was \"Nancy Lee,\" and the other didn't know any\ntune at all; but I may be mistaken about that, too. Perhaps they\nboth knew it.\n\nWell,", "saying\nthat the other had worn it last. So that was no sign either. The\ncook was a West Indiaman, called James Lawley; his father had\nbeen hanged for putting lights in cocoanut trees where they\ndidn't belong. But he was a good cook, and knew his business; and\nit wasn't soup-and-bully and dog's-body every Sunday. That's\nwhat I meant to say. On Sunday the cook called both those boys\nJim, and on week-days he called them Jack. He used to say he", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "was walking between two men. The second man was\njust the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head\ntaller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and\nround hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a\nsailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on\nthe water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had\nsettled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:\nand one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mam", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "must\nbe right sometimes if he did that, because even the hands on a\npainted clock point right twice a day.\n\nWhat started me to trying for some way of telling the Bentons\napart was this. I heard them talking about a girl. It was at\nnight, in our watch, and the wind had headed us off a little\nrather suddenly, and when we had flattened in the jibs, we clewed\ndown the topsails, while the two Benton boys got the spanker\nsheet aft. One of them was at the helm. I co", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "I went round by the weather side, and poked\nabout in the dark, for I began to wonder where the other man was.\nBut I couldn't find him, though I searched the decks until I got\nright aft again. It was certainly one of the Benton boys that was\nmissing, but it wasn't like either of them to go below to change\nhis clothes in such warm weather. The man at the wheel was the\nother, of course. I spoke to him.\n\n\"Jim, what's become of your brother?\"\n\n\"I am Jack, sir", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "for I didn't care whether she thought me a\nweak creature or not. I wasn't going to say a word that could\ninterfere with her happiness, and I didn't intend to go back on\nJack Benton; but I remembered what he had said when he left the\nship in Havana: that it wasn't his fault.\n\n\"All the same,\" Miss Mamie went on, as a woman will, without\nrealising what she was saying, \"all the same, I wish I had seen\nit happen. Then I should know.\"\n\nNext minute she knew", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "now and then. I remember that they had\none ditty bag between them, and they had a woman's thimble in it.\nOne of the men said something about it to them, and they looked\nat each other; and one smiled, but the other didn't. Most of\ntheir clothes were alike, but they had one red guernsey between\nthem. For some time I used to think it was always the same one\nthat wore it, and I thought that might be a way to tell them\napart. But then I heard one asking the other for it, and", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't" ], [ "we had walked\nvery slowly to wait for him.\n\n\"Promise not to tell anybody what I said, captain,\" said Mamie,\nas girls do as soon as they have told their secrets.\n\nAnyhow, I know I never did tell any one but you. This is the\nfirst time I have talked of all that, the first time since I took\nthe train from that place. I am not going to tell you all about\nthe day. Miss Mamie introduced me to her mother, who was a quiet,\nhard-faced old New England farmer's widow, and to her cous", "was Jack; James Benton and John Benton. The only difference I\never could see was, that one seemed to be rather more cheerful\nand inclined to talk than the other; but one couldn't even be\nsure of that. Perhaps they had moods. Anyhow, there was one of\nthem that used to whistle when he was alone. He only knew one\ntune, and that was \"Nancy Lee,\" and the other didn't know any\ntune at all; but I may be mistaken about that, too. Perhaps they\nboth knew it.\n\nWell,", " Crawford has been known to say, \"I might at this\n moment be a professor of Sanskrit in some American\n college;\" for that idea persisted after his return\n to the United States, where he entered Harvard for\n special study of the subject.\n\n But from the May evening when the story of the\n interesting man at Simla was first told in a club\n smoking-room overlooking Madison Square, Mr. Crawford's\n life has been one of hard literary work. He returned to\n Italy in 1883, spent most of", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "a little money, and having had a small legacy from\nan uncle in Norway, I got the command of a coastwise vessel, with\na small share in her. I was at home three weeks before going to\nsea, and Jack Benton saw my name in the local papers, and wrote\nto me.\n\nHe said that he had left the sea, and was trying farming, and he\nwas going to be married, and he asked if I wouldn't come over for\nthat, for it wasn't more than forty minutes by train; and he and\nMamie would be proud to have", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "saying\nthat the other had worn it last. So that was no sign either. The\ncook was a West Indiaman, called James Lawley; his father had\nbeen hanged for putting lights in cocoanut trees where they\ndidn't belong. But he was a good cook, and knew his business; and\nit wasn't soup-and-bully and dog's-body every Sunday. That's\nwhat I meant to say. On Sunday the cook called both those boys\nJim, and on week-days he called them Jack. He used to say he", "Franklin stove set into the old fireplace, and a red table-cloth\nfrom Alexandria, embroidered with those outlandish Egyptian\nletters. It was all as bright and homelike as possible, and he\nshowed me everything, and was proud of everything, and I liked\nhim the better for it. But I wished that his voice would sound\nmore cheerful, as it did when we first sailed in the _Helen B._,\nand that the drawn look would go out of his face for a minute.\nJack showed me everything, and took me upstairs", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "he\nunderstood what the trouble was. Whatever he knew from the other\nmen, he was evidently living under a hard strain. He was quiet\nenough, and too quiet; but his face was set, and sometimes it\ntwitched oddly when he was at the wheel, and he would turn his\nhead round sharp to look behind him. A man doesn't do that\nnaturally, unless there's a vessel that he thinks is creeping up\non the quarter. When that happens, if the man at the wheel takes\na pride in his ship, he will almost always keep gl", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour." ], [ "steering, the other\nwas everlastingly hanging round as if he were waiting to relieve\nthe wheel, though he might have been enjoying a quiet nap for all\nI cared in such weather. Or else, when one was taking his turn at\nthe lookout, the other would be sitting on an anchor beside him.\nOne kept near the other, at night more than in the daytime. I\nnoticed that. They were fond of sitting on that anchor, and they\ngenerally tucked away their pipes under it, for the _Helen B._\nwas a dry boat in most weather,", "through its block. The one who was steering watched him, and got\nas white as cheese. The other one was swinging about on the gaff\nend, and every time she rolled to leeward he brought up with a\njerk that would have sent anything but a monkey flying into\nspace. But he didn't leave it until he had rove the new rope, and\nhe got back all right. I think it was Jack at the wheel; the one\nthat seemed more cheerful, the one that whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" He\nhad rather have been doing the job himself than", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\nthing. We all felt as if there were a hand on board, sometimes\nbelow, sometimes about decks, sometimes aloft, sometimes on the\nboom end; taking his full share of what the others got, but doing\nno work for it. We didn't only feel it, we knew it. He took up no\nroom, he cast no shadow, and we never heard his footfall on deck;\nbut he took his whack with the rest as regular as the bells,\nand--he whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" It was like the worst sort of dream\nyou can", "couldn't put your\nfoot on a plank, and the spanker beginning to get adrift again,\nbeing badly stopped, and the general confusion and hell's delight\nthat you can only have on a fore-and-after when there's nothing\nreally serious the matter. Of course, I don't mean to say that\nthe old man couldn't have steered his trick as well as you or I\nor any other seaman; but I don't believe he had ever been on\nboard the _Helen B._ before, or had his hand on her wheel till", ".\"\n\n\"Well, then, Jack, where's Jim? He's not on deck.\"\n\n\"I don't know, sir.\"\n\nWhen I had come up to him he had stood up from force of instinct,\nand had laid his hands on the spokes as if he were steering,\nthough the wheel was lashed; but he still bent his face down, and\nit was half hidden by the edge of his sou'wester, while he seemed\nto be staring at the compass. He spoke in a very low voice, but\nthat was natural, for the captain had", "ins and\nrelations; and there were plenty of them too at dinner, and there\nwas the parson besides. He was what they call a Hard-shell\nBaptist in those parts, with a long, shaven upper lip and a\nwhacking appetite, and a sort of superior look, as if he didn't\nexpect to see many of us hereafter--the way a New York pilot\nlooks round, and orders things about when he boards an Italian\ncargo-dragger, as if the ship weren't up to much anyway, though\nit was his business to see that", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "imagine; and I dare say a good many of us tried to\nbelieve it was nothing else sometimes, when we stood looking over\nthe weather rail in fine weather with the breeze in our faces;\nbut if we happened to turn round and look into each other's eyes,\nwe knew it was something worse than any dream could be; and we\nwould turn away from each other with a queer, sick feeling,\nwishing that we could just for once see somebody who didn't know\nwhat we knew.\n\nThere's not much more to tell about the _Helen B. Jackson", " Crawford has been known to say, \"I might at this\n moment be a professor of Sanskrit in some American\n college;\" for that idea persisted after his return\n to the United States, where he entered Harvard for\n special study of the subject.\n\n But from the May evening when the story of the\n interesting man at Simla was first told in a club\n smoking-room overlooking Madison Square, Mr. Crawford's\n life has been one of hard literary work. He returned to\n Italy in 1883, spent most of", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "was Jack; James Benton and John Benton. The only difference I\never could see was, that one seemed to be rather more cheerful\nand inclined to talk than the other; but one couldn't even be\nsure of that. Perhaps they had moods. Anyhow, there was one of\nthem that used to whistle when he was alone. He only knew one\ntune, and that was \"Nancy Lee,\" and the other didn't know any\ntune at all; but I may be mistaken about that, too. Perhaps they\nboth knew it.\n\nWell,", "said Captain Hackstaff, \"but it\nappears to me that's the tune that man was whistling the night we\nlost the man overboard. I don't know why it has stuck in my head,\nand of course it's all nonsense; but it seems to me that I have\nheard it all the rest of the trip.\"\n\nI didn't say anything to that, but I wondered just how much the\nold man had understood. Then we turned in, and I slept ten hours\nwithout opening my eyes.\n\nI stuck to the _Helen B.", "gale of\nwind on a dark night. So when I had finished my pipe I began to\nmove about. I went aft, and there was a man leaning over the\nwheel, with his legs apart and both hands hanging down in the\nlight from the binnacle, and his sou'wester over his eyes. Then\nI went forward, and there was a man at the lookout, with his back\nagainst the foremast, getting what shelter he could from the\nstaysail. I knew by his small height that he was not one of the\nBenton boys. Then", "those two Benton boys turned up on board the _Helen B.\nJackson_. They had been on half a dozen ships since the _Boston\nBelle_, and they had grown up and were good seamen. They had\nreddish beards and bright blue eyes and freckled faces; and they\nwere quiet fellows, good workmen on rigging, pretty willing, and\nboth good men at the wheel. They managed to be in the same\nwatch--it was the port watch on the _Helen B._, and that was\nmine, and I had great confidence in them", "you would least\nexpect to feel creepy. But I remembered how I had heard that same\ntune overhead at night in a gale of wind a fortnight earlier,\nand I am not ashamed to say that the same sensation came over\nme now, and I wished myself well out of the _Helen B._, and\naboard of any old cargo-dragger, with a windmill on deck, and an\neighty-nine-forty-eighter for captain, and a fresh leak whenever\nit breezed up.\n\nLittle by little during the next few days life", "\nto be in command of a fore-and-aft schooner. He never talked\nabout himself, and maybe he had just been mate on one of those\nbig steel square-riggers, and something had put him back. Perhaps\nhe had been captain, and had got his ship aground, through no\nparticular fault of his, and had to begin over again. Sometimes\nhe talked just like you and me, and sometimes he would speak more\nlike books do, or some of those Boston people I have heard. I\ndon't know. We have all been shipmates now and then with", "ancing over his\nshoulder to see whether the other fellow is gaining. But Jack\nBenton used to look round when there was nothing there; and what\nis curious, the other men seemed to catch the trick when they\nwere steering. One day the old man turned out just as the man at\nthe wheel looked behind him.\n\n\"What are you looking at?\" asked the captain.\n\n\"Nothing, sir,\" answered the man.\n\n\"Then keep your eye on the mizzen-royal,\" said the old man, as if\nhe were forgetting that we weren't", "\nmove to go up. Then Mamie turned round on the step, and they all\nthree stood that way for a second or two. She cried out then,--I\nheard a man cry like that once, when his arm was taken off by a\nsteam-crane,--and she fell back in a heap on the little piazza.\n\nI tried to jump forward, but I couldn't move, and I felt my hair\nrising under my hat. The sailor turned slowly where he stood, and\nswung Jack round by the arm steadily and easily, and began" ], [ "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "he was responsible\nfor them, and it wasn't right that the men should take more\nthings than they needed when his back was turned, and just soil\nthem and mix them up with their own, so as to make him think--\n\nHe stopped there, and looked at me, and I looked at him. I didn't\nknow what he thought, but I began to guess. I wasn't going to\nhumour any such nonsense as that, so I told him to speak to the\nmen himself, and not come bothering me about such things.\n\n\"Count the plates", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "shaking; but I didn't. I just picked up the knife and gave\nit to him, and told him to go back to his galley, and not to make\na fool of himself. You see, he hadn't struck at Jack, but at\nsomething he thought he saw, and I knew what it was, and I felt\nthat same thing, like a lump of ice sliding down my back, that I\nfelt that night when we were bending the trysail.\n\nWhen the men had seen him running aft, they jumped up after him,\nbut they held off", "was walking between two men. The second man was\njust the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head\ntaller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and\nround hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a\nsailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on\nthe water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had\nsettled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:\nand one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mam" ], [ "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "for I didn't care whether she thought me a\nweak creature or not. I wasn't going to say a word that could\ninterfere with her happiness, and I didn't intend to go back on\nJack Benton; but I remembered what he had said when he left the\nship in Havana: that it wasn't his fault.\n\n\"All the same,\" Miss Mamie went on, as a woman will, without\nrealising what she was saying, \"all the same, I wish I had seen\nit happen. Then I should know.\"\n\nNext minute she knew", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "\n\nI told her I thought so, too. We passed the gate and went into\nthe next field, walking side by side. Then she turned her head to\nlook for Jack, but he wasn't in sight. I sha'n't forget what she\nsaid next.\n\n\"Are you sure now?\" she asked.\n\nI stood stock-still, and she went on a step, and then turned and\nlooked at me. We must have looked at each other while you could\ncount five or six.\n\n\"I know it's silly,\" she went on,", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "and gave them a lecture. It was\njust the kind of talk you might have expected from him. He said\nhe hadn't any complaint to make, and that so far as he knew\neverybody on board was doing his duty, and that he was given to\nunderstand that the men got their whack, and were satisfied. He\nsaid his ship was never a hard ship, and that he liked quiet, and\nthat was the reason he didn't mean to have any nonsense, and the\nmen might just as well understand that, too. We'd had a great\nmisfort", "ings happened after that. Perhaps he said all he had to say\nthen; I don't see how he could have said anything more. I used to\nthink nobody could swear like a Dane, except a Neapolitan or a\nSouth American; but when I had heard the old man I changed my\nmind. There's nothing afloat or ashore that can beat one of your\nquiet American skippers, if he gets off on that tack. I didn't\nneed to ask him what was the matter, for I knew he had heard\n\"Nancy Lee,\" as I had, only", ". That's natural. But you won't\nmind telling me how it happened, will you? I should so much like\nto know.\"\n\nWell, I told her about the voyage and what happened that night\nwhen we fell in with a gale of wind, and that it hadn't been\nanybody's fault, for I wasn't going to admit that it was my old\ncaptain's, if it was. But I didn't tell her anything about what\nhappened afterwards. As she didn't speak, I just went on talking\nabout the two", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "But when he saw that I\ndidn't seem to care, and just stood there as if there were\nnothing more to be said, he naturally began to talk.\n\nHe said that it wasn't that he saw anything, because there wasn't\nanything to see except the spanker sheet just straining a little, and\nworking in the sheaves of the blocks as the schooner rose to the short\nseas. There wasn't anything to be seen, but it seemed to him that the\nsheet made a queer noise in the blocks. It was a new man", "he didn't like it, and thought he hadn't deserved it, and would\nlike his discharge at our next port. I told him he was a d----d\nfool, of course, to begin with; and that men were more apt to try\na joke with a chap they liked than with anybody they wanted to\nget rid of; unless it was a bad joke, like flooding his bunk, or\nfilling his boots with tar. But it wasn't that kind of practical\njoke. The doctor said that the men were trying to frighten him,\nand he didn'", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n" ], [ "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "ble up on deck\nand face it again. That was a good many years ago. Do you believe\nthat I can't hear \"Nancy Lee\" now, without feeling cold down my\nback? For I heard it too, now and then, after the man had\nexplained why he was always looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it\nwas imagination. I don't know. When I look back it seems to me\nthat I only remember a long fight against something I couldn't\nsee, against an appalling presence, against something worse than\ncholera or Yellow Jack or the plague--", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "whether he had grown\ncheerful again, and had got rid of that drawn look he had when he\ntold me it wasn't his fault. How could it have been his fault,\nanyhow? So I wrote to Jack that I would come down and see him\nmarried; and when the day came I took the train, and got there\nabout ten o'clock in the morning. I wish I hadn't. Jack met me at\nthe station, and he told me that the wedding was to be late in\nthe afternoon, and that they weren't going off on any silly\n", "was very pretty, and she\ncouldn't walk home like that, could she?\n\nSo when we had all had a little supper the party began to break\nup, and when they were all gone Mrs. Brewster and Mamie went\nupstairs, and Jack and I went out on the piazza, to have a\nsmoke, as the old lady didn't like tobacco in the house.\n\nThe full moon had risen now, and it was behind me as I looked\ndown toward Jack's cottage, so that everything was clear and\nwhite, and there was only", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "we had walked\nvery slowly to wait for him.\n\n\"Promise not to tell anybody what I said, captain,\" said Mamie,\nas girls do as soon as they have told their secrets.\n\nAnyhow, I know I never did tell any one but you. This is the\nfirst time I have talked of all that, the first time since I took\nthe train from that place. I am not going to tell you all about\nthe day. Miss Mamie introduced me to her mother, who was a quiet,\nhard-faced old New England farmer's widow, and to her cous", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "with a woman in it. By and by we heard Mamie's voice\ntalking to her mother on the stairs, and in a minute she was\nready to go. She had put on again the dress she had worn in the\nmorning, and it looked black at night, almost as black as Jack's\ncoat.\n\nWell, they were ready to go now. It was all very quiet after the\nday's excitement, and I knew they would like to walk down that\npath alone now that they were man and wife at last. I bade them\ngood-night, although", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't" ], [ "order the spanker set and the helm up. But he didn't turn out\nbefore seven bells, just as the clouds broke and showed blue sky\nto leeward--\"the Frenchman's barometer,\" you used to call it.\n\nSome people don't seem to be so dead, when they are dead, as\nothers are. Jim Benton was like that. He had been on my watch,\nand I couldn't get used to the idea that he wasn't about decks\nwith me. I was always expecting to see him, and his brother was\nso", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "has felt that blank feeling there is when a\nman's gone overboard whom everybody likes. I suppose landsmen\nthink it would be easier if they didn't have to bury their\nfathers and mothers and friends; but it wouldn't be. Somehow the\nfuneral keeps up the idea of something beyond. You may believe in\nthat something just the same; but a man who has gone in the dark,\nbetween two seas, without a cry, seems much more beyond reach\nthan if he were still lying on his bed, and had only just stopped\nbreathing. Perhaps Jim Bent", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "So Mamie and I began to walk along the path, and Jack went up\ntoward the barn.\n\n\"It was sweet of you to come, captain,\" Miss Mamie began, \"for I\nhave always wanted to see you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, expecting something more.\n\n\"You see, I always knew them both,\" she went on. \"They used to\ntake me out in a dory to catch codfish when I was a little girl,\nand I liked them both,\" she added thoughtfully. \"Jack doesn't\ncare to talk about his brother now", "exactly like him that I often felt as if I did see him and\nforgot he was dead, and made the mistake of calling Jack by his\nname; though I tried not to, because I knew it must hurt. If ever\nJack had been the cheerful one of the two, as I had always\nsupposed he had been, he had changed very much, for he grew to be\nmore silent than Jim had ever been.\n\nOne fine afternoon I was sitting on the main-hatch, overhauling\nthe clock-work of the taffrail-log, which hadn't", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "t know that I\never told that story since it happened--I knew a fellow who went\nover, and came back dead. I didn't see him after he came back;\nonly one of us did, but we all knew he was there.\n\nNo, I am not giving you \"sharks.\" There isn't a shark in this\nstory, and I don't know that I would tell it at all if we weren't\nalone, just you and I. But you and I have seen things in various\nparts, and maybe you will understand. Anyhow, you know that", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour." ], [ "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "I spoke again. \"Jack Benton, are you\nthere? Will you go if I will?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" answered a voice; and that was all.\n\nBy that time the old man was on deck, and I felt his hand on my\nshoulder rather roughly, as if he meant to shake me.\n\n\"I'd reckoned you had more sense, Mr. Torkeldsen,\" he said. \"God\nknows I would risk my ship to look for him, if it were any use;\nbut he must have gone half an hour ago.\"\n\n", "that in\nsuch a sea. The men knew it as well as I, but still they stared\ninto the foam as if they had any chance of seeing the lost man. I\nlet the cook get into the rigging and joined the men, and asked\nif they had made a thorough search on board, though I knew they\nhad and that it could not take long, for he wasn't on deck, and\nthere was only the forecastle below.\n\n\"That sea took him over, sir, as sure as you're born,\" said one\nof the men close beside me.\n\nWe", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", ". I caught the cook by the foot, and asked who was\ngone.\n\n\"It's Jim Benton,\" he shouted down to me. \"He's not aboard this\nship!\"\n\nThere was no doubt about that. Jim Benton was gone; and I knew in\na flash that he had been taken off by that sea when we were\nsetting the storm trysail. It was nearly half an hour since then;\nshe had run like wild for a few minutes until we got her hove-to,\nand no swimmer that ever swam could have lived as long as", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "a square-rigger.\n\n\"Ay, ay, sir,\" said the man.\n\nThe captain told me to go below and work up the latitude from the\ndead-reckoning, and he went forward of the deck-house and sat\ndown to read, as he often did. When I came up, the man at the\nwheel was looking round again, and I stood beside him and just\nasked him quietly what everybody was looking at, for it was\ngetting to be a general habit. He wouldn't say anything at first,\nbut just answered that it was nothing.", "becket, and I\nsang out to the men to sway away, and I was standing on the jaws\nof the spanker-gaff, with my left hand on the bolt-rope of the\ntrysail, so that I could feel when it was board-taut, and I\nwasn't thinking of anything except being glad the job was over,\nand that we were going to heave her to. It was as black as a\ncoal-pocket, except that you could see the streaks on the seas as\nthey went by, and abaft", "ship. They owed me a grudge for\nmaking them work during the last few days, and most of them\ndropped into the boat without so much as a word or a look, as\nsailors will. Jack Benton was the last to go over the side, and\nhe stood still a minute and looked at me, and his white face\ntwitched. I thought he wanted to say something.\n\n\"Take care of yourself, Jack,\" said I. \"So long!\"\n\nIt seemed as if he couldn't speak for two or three seconds; then\nhis words came thick.", "how it could have\nhappened, but I ran forward instinctively. I came upon the cook\nfirst, half-dressed in his shirt and trousers, just as he had\ntumbled out of his bunk. He was jumping into the main rigging,\nevidently hoping to see the man, as if any one could have seen\nanything on such a night, except the foam-streaks on the black\nwater, and now and then the curl of a breaking sea as it went\naway to leeward. Several of the men were peering over the rail\ninto the dark", "has felt that blank feeling there is when a\nman's gone overboard whom everybody likes. I suppose landsmen\nthink it would be easier if they didn't have to bury their\nfathers and mothers and friends; but it wouldn't be. Somehow the\nfuneral keeps up the idea of something beyond. You may believe in\nthat something just the same; but a man who has gone in the dark,\nbetween two seas, without a cry, seems much more beyond reach\nthan if he were still lying on his bed, and had only just stopped\nbreathing. Perhaps Jim Bent", "the chronometer, as well as many a man who\ncommands a big square-rigger. Navigation ain't everything, nor\nseamanship, either. You've got to have it in you, if you mean to\nget there.\n\nI don't know how our captain heard that there was trouble\nforward. The cabin-boy may have told him, or the men may have\ntalked outside his door when they relieved the wheel at night.\nAnyhow, he got wind of it, and when he had got his sight that\nmorning he had all hands aft,", ".\"\n\n\"Well, then, Jack, where's Jim? He's not on deck.\"\n\n\"I don't know, sir.\"\n\nWhen I had come up to him he had stood up from force of instinct,\nand had laid his hands on the spokes as if he were steering,\nthough the wheel was lashed; but he still bent his face down, and\nit was half hidden by the edge of his sou'wester, while he seemed\nto be staring at the compass. He spoke in a very low voice, but\nthat was natural, for the captain had", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "house and then against the lee rail. I was quite sure he\ncouldn't have had anything to drink, for neither of the brothers\nwere the kind to hide rum from their shipmates, if they had any,\nand the only spirits that were aboard were locked up in the\ncaptain's cabin. I wondered whether he had been hit by the\nthroat-halliard block and was hurt.\n\nI left the wheel and went after him, but when I got to the corner\nof the deck-house I saw that he was on a full run forward, so I\n", "out of that ship, if they had to swim for it; to get away from\nthat whistling, from that dead shipmate who had come back, and\nwho filled the ship with his unseen self. I know that if the old\nman and I hadn't kept a sharp lookout the men would have put a\nboat over quietly on one of those calm nights, and pulled away,\nleaving the captain and me and the mad cook to work the schooner\ninto harbour. We should have done it somehow, of course, for we\nhadn't far to run if we could", "steering, the other\nwas everlastingly hanging round as if he were waiting to relieve\nthe wheel, though he might have been enjoying a quiet nap for all\nI cared in such weather. Or else, when one was taking his turn at\nthe lookout, the other would be sitting on an anchor beside him.\nOne kept near the other, at night more than in the daytime. I\nnoticed that. They were fond of sitting on that anchor, and they\ngenerally tucked away their pipes under it, for the _Helen B._\nwas a dry boat in most weather,", "ghastly. I know his teeth chattered. But he didn't say anything,\nand the next minute he was somewhere in the dark trying to find\nhis sou'wester at the foot of the mast.\n\nWhen all was quiet, and she was hove to, coming to and falling\noff her four points as regularly as a pendulum, and the helm\nlashed a little to the lee, the old man turned in again, and I\nmanaged to light a pipe in the lee of the deck-house, for there\nwas nothing more to be done till the g" ], [ "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "has felt that blank feeling there is when a\nman's gone overboard whom everybody likes. I suppose landsmen\nthink it would be easier if they didn't have to bury their\nfathers and mothers and friends; but it wouldn't be. Somehow the\nfuneral keeps up the idea of something beyond. You may believe in\nthat something just the same; but a man who has gone in the dark,\nbetween two seas, without a cry, seems much more beyond reach\nthan if he were still lying on his bed, and had only just stopped\nbreathing. Perhaps Jim Bent", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "was over,\nand then that everybody should go home, and the young couple\nwould walk down to the cottage by themselves. When I looked out I\ncould see the light burning brightly in Jack's cottage, a quarter\nof a mile away. I said I didn't think I could get any train to\ntake me back before half-past nine, but Mrs. Brewster begged me\nto stay until it was time, as she said her daughter would want to\ntake off her wedding dress before she went home; for she had put\non something white with a wreath, that", "I spoke again. \"Jack Benton, are you\nthere? Will you go if I will?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" answered a voice; and that was all.\n\nBy that time the old man was on deck, and I felt his hand on my\nshoulder rather roughly, as if he meant to shake me.\n\n\"I'd reckoned you had more sense, Mr. Torkeldsen,\" he said. \"God\nknows I would risk my ship to look for him, if it were any use;\nbut he must have gone half an hour ago.\"\n\n", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "that in\nsuch a sea. The men knew it as well as I, but still they stared\ninto the foam as if they had any chance of seeing the lost man. I\nlet the cook get into the rigging and joined the men, and asked\nif they had made a thorough search on board, though I knew they\nhad and that it could not take long, for he wasn't on deck, and\nthere was only the forecastle below.\n\n\"That sea took him over, sir, as sure as you're born,\" said one\nof the men close beside me.\n\nWe", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", ". I caught the cook by the foot, and asked who was\ngone.\n\n\"It's Jim Benton,\" he shouted down to me. \"He's not aboard this\nship!\"\n\nThere was no doubt about that. Jim Benton was gone; and I knew in\na flash that he had been taken off by that sea when we were\nsetting the storm trysail. It was nearly half an hour since then;\nshe had run like wild for a few minutes until we got her hove-to,\nand no swimmer that ever swam could have lived as long as", "Jackson_ after that as long as I could\nstand a fore-and-after; but that night when we lay in Havana was\nthe last time I ever heard \"Nancy Lee\" on board of her. The spare\nhand had gone ashore with the rest, and he never came back, and\nhe took his tune with him; but all those things are just as clear\nin my memory as if they had happened yesterday.\n\nAfter that I was in deep water for a year or more, and after I\ncame home I got my certificate, and what with having friends and\nhaving saved", "ble up on deck\nand face it again. That was a good many years ago. Do you believe\nthat I can't hear \"Nancy Lee\" now, without feeling cold down my\nback? For I heard it too, now and then, after the man had\nexplained why he was always looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it\nwas imagination. I don't know. When I look back it seems to me\nthat I only remember a long fight against something I couldn't\nsee, against an appalling presence, against something worse than\ncholera or Yellow Jack or the plague--", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "with a woman in it. By and by we heard Mamie's voice\ntalking to her mother on the stairs, and in a minute she was\nready to go. She had put on again the dress she had worn in the\nmorning, and it looked black at night, almost as black as Jack's\ncoat.\n\nWell, they were ready to go now. It was all very quiet after the\nday's excitement, and I knew they would like to walk down that\npath alone now that they were man and wife at last. I bade them\ngood-night, although", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p" ], [ "was Jack; James Benton and John Benton. The only difference I\never could see was, that one seemed to be rather more cheerful\nand inclined to talk than the other; but one couldn't even be\nsure of that. Perhaps they had moods. Anyhow, there was one of\nthem that used to whistle when he was alone. He only knew one\ntune, and that was \"Nancy Lee,\" and the other didn't know any\ntune at all; but I may be mistaken about that, too. Perhaps they\nboth knew it.\n\nWell,", "saying\nthat the other had worn it last. So that was no sign either. The\ncook was a West Indiaman, called James Lawley; his father had\nbeen hanged for putting lights in cocoanut trees where they\ndidn't belong. But he was a good cook, and knew his business; and\nit wasn't soup-and-bully and dog's-body every Sunday. That's\nwhat I meant to say. On Sunday the cook called both those boys\nJim, and on week-days he called them Jack. He used to say he", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "must\nbe right sometimes if he did that, because even the hands on a\npainted clock point right twice a day.\n\nWhat started me to trying for some way of telling the Bentons\napart was this. I heard them talking about a girl. It was at\nnight, in our watch, and the wind had headed us off a little\nrather suddenly, and when we had flattened in the jibs, we clewed\ndown the topsails, while the two Benton boys got the spanker\nsheet aft. One of them was at the helm. I co", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", "through its block. The one who was steering watched him, and got\nas white as cheese. The other one was swinging about on the gaff\nend, and every time she rolled to leeward he brought up with a\njerk that would have sent anything but a monkey flying into\nspace. But he didn't leave it until he had rove the new rope, and\nhe got back all right. I think it was Jack at the wheel; the one\nthat seemed more cheerful, the one that whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" He\nhad rather have been doing the job himself than", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "was walking between two men. The second man was\njust the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head\ntaller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and\nround hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a\nsailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on\nthe water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had\nsettled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:\nand one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mam", "I went round by the weather side, and poked\nabout in the dark, for I began to wonder where the other man was.\nBut I couldn't find him, though I searched the decks until I got\nright aft again. It was certainly one of the Benton boys that was\nmissing, but it wasn't like either of them to go below to change\nhis clothes in such warm weather. The man at the wheel was the\nother, of course. I spoke to him.\n\n\"Jim, what's become of your brother?\"\n\n\"I am Jack, sir", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "\"it's silly, and it's awful,\ntoo, and I have got no right to think it, but sometimes I can't\nhelp it. You see it was always Jack I meant to marry.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said stupidly, \"I suppose so.\"\n\nShe waited a minute, and began walking on slowly before she went\non again.\n\n\"I am talking to you as if you were an old friend, captain, and I\nhave only known you five minutes. It was Jack I meant to marry,\nbut now he is so like the other one.\"\n", "now and then. I remember that they had\none ditty bag between them, and they had a woman's thimble in it.\nOne of the men said something about it to them, and they looked\nat each other; and one smiled, but the other didn't. Most of\ntheir clothes were alike, but they had one red guernsey between\nthem. For some time I used to think it was always the same one\nthat wore it, and I thought that might be a way to tell them\napart. But then I heard one asking the other for it, and", "and forks and spoons before them when they sit\ndown to table, and tell them that's all they'll get; and when\nthey have finished, count the things again, and if the count\nisn't right, find out who did it. You know it must be one of\nthem. You're not a green hand; you've been going to sea ten or\neleven years, and don't want any lesson about how to behave if\nthe boys play a trick on you.\"\n\n\"If I could catch him,\" said the cook, \"I'd", "\nthing. We all felt as if there were a hand on board, sometimes\nbelow, sometimes about decks, sometimes aloft, sometimes on the\nboom end; taking his full share of what the others got, but doing\nno work for it. We didn't only feel it, we knew it. He took up no\nroom, he cast no shadow, and we never heard his footfall on deck;\nbut he took his whack with the rest as regular as the bells,\nand--he whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" It was like the worst sort of dream\nyou can" ], [ "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "and forks and spoons before them when they sit\ndown to table, and tell them that's all they'll get; and when\nthey have finished, count the things again, and if the count\nisn't right, find out who did it. You know it must be one of\nthem. You're not a green hand; you've been going to sea ten or\neleven years, and don't want any lesson about how to behave if\nthe boys play a trick on you.\"\n\n\"If I could catch him,\" said the cook, \"I'd", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "ble up on deck\nand face it again. That was a good many years ago. Do you believe\nthat I can't hear \"Nancy Lee\" now, without feeling cold down my\nback? For I heard it too, now and then, after the man had\nexplained why he was always looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it\nwas imagination. I don't know. When I look back it seems to me\nthat I only remember a long fight against something I couldn't\nsee, against an appalling presence, against something worse than\ncholera or Yellow Jack or the plague--", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "saying\nthat the other had worn it last. So that was no sign either. The\ncook was a West Indiaman, called James Lawley; his father had\nbeen hanged for putting lights in cocoanut trees where they\ndidn't belong. But he was a good cook, and knew his business; and\nit wasn't soup-and-bully and dog's-body every Sunday. That's\nwhat I meant to say. On Sunday the cook called both those boys\nJim, and on week-days he called them Jack. He used to say he", "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "er, Captain\nHackstaff. She was an old-fashioned one, even then--no steam\ndonkey, and all to do by hand. There were still sailors in the\ncoasting trade in those days, you remember. She wasn't a hard\nship, for the old man was better than most of them, though he\nkept to himself and had a face like a monkey-wrench. We were\nthirteen, all told, in the ship's company; and some of them\nafterwards thought that might have had something to do with it,\nbut I", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", ". I caught the cook by the foot, and asked who was\ngone.\n\n\"It's Jim Benton,\" he shouted down to me. \"He's not aboard this\nship!\"\n\nThere was no doubt about that. Jim Benton was gone; and I knew in\na flash that he had been taken off by that sea when we were\nsetting the storm trysail. It was nearly half an hour since then;\nshe had run like wild for a few minutes until we got her hove-to,\nand no swimmer that ever swam could have lived as long as", "was very pretty, and she\ncouldn't walk home like that, could she?\n\nSo when we had all had a little supper the party began to break\nup, and when they were all gone Mrs. Brewster and Mamie went\nupstairs, and Jack and I went out on the piazza, to have a\nsmoke, as the old lady didn't like tobacco in the house.\n\nThe full moon had risen now, and it was behind me as I looked\ndown toward Jack's cottage, so that everything was clear and\nwhite, and there was only", "\n\nI told her I thought so, too. We passed the gate and went into\nthe next field, walking side by side. Then she turned her head to\nlook for Jack, but he wasn't in sight. I sha'n't forget what she\nsaid next.\n\n\"Are you sure now?\" she asked.\n\nI stood stock-still, and she went on a step, and then turned and\nlooked at me. We must have looked at each other while you could\ncount five or six.\n\n\"I know it's silly,\" she went on,", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it" ], [ "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "was walking between two men. The second man was\njust the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head\ntaller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and\nround hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a\nsailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on\nthe water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had\nsettled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:\nand one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mam", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "and gave them a lecture. It was\njust the kind of talk you might have expected from him. He said\nhe hadn't any complaint to make, and that so far as he knew\neverybody on board was doing his duty, and that he was given to\nunderstand that the men got their whack, and were satisfied. He\nsaid his ship was never a hard ship, and that he liked quiet, and\nthat was the reason he didn't mean to have any nonsense, and the\nmen might just as well understand that, too. We'd had a great\nmisfort", "shaking; but I didn't. I just picked up the knife and gave\nit to him, and told him to go back to his galley, and not to make\na fool of himself. You see, he hadn't struck at Jack, but at\nsomething he thought he saw, and I knew what it was, and I felt\nthat same thing, like a lump of ice sliding down my back, that I\nfelt that night when we were bending the trysail.\n\nWhen the men had seen him running aft, they jumped up after him,\nbut they held off" ], [ "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", ", to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just\nmelt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]\n\nI moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the\ngrass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might\nhear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five\nminutes after that, but it seemed as if it must have taken an\nhour.", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "whether he had grown\ncheerful again, and had got rid of that drawn look he had when he\ntold me it wasn't his fault. How could it have been his fault,\nanyhow? So I wrote to Jack that I would come down and see him\nmarried; and when the day came I took the train, and got there\nabout ten o'clock in the morning. I wish I hadn't. Jack met me at\nthe station, and he told me that the wedding was to be late in\nthe afternoon, and that they weren't going off on any silly\n", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "a little money, and having had a small legacy from\nan uncle in Norway, I got the command of a coastwise vessel, with\na small share in her. I was at home three weeks before going to\nsea, and Jack Benton saw my name in the local papers, and wrote\nto me.\n\nHe said that he had left the sea, and was trying farming, and he\nwas going to be married, and he asked if I wouldn't come over for\nthat, for it wasn't more than forty minutes by train; and he and\nMamie would be proud to have", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "ble up on deck\nand face it again. That was a good many years ago. Do you believe\nthat I can't hear \"Nancy Lee\" now, without feeling cold down my\nback? For I heard it too, now and then, after the man had\nexplained why he was always looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it\nwas imagination. I don't know. When I look back it seems to me\nthat I only remember a long fight against something I couldn't\nsee, against an appalling presence, against something worse than\ncholera or Yellow Jack or the plague--", "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn" ], [ "he was responsible\nfor them, and it wasn't right that the men should take more\nthings than they needed when his back was turned, and just soil\nthem and mix them up with their own, so as to make him think--\n\nHe stopped there, and looked at me, and I looked at him. I didn't\nknow what he thought, but I began to guess. I wasn't going to\nhumour any such nonsense as that, so I told him to speak to the\nmen himself, and not come bothering me about such things.\n\n\"Count the plates", "and gave them a lecture. It was\njust the kind of talk you might have expected from him. He said\nhe hadn't any complaint to make, and that so far as he knew\neverybody on board was doing his duty, and that he was given to\nunderstand that the men got their whack, and were satisfied. He\nsaid his ship was never a hard ship, and that he liked quiet, and\nthat was the reason he didn't mean to have any nonsense, and the\nmen might just as well understand that, too. We'd had a great\nmisfort", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "So far as I know, you are, doctor. I haven't heard any\ncomplaints from the forecastle, and the captain has said nothing,\nand I think you know your business, and the cabin-boy is bursting\nout of his clothes. That looks as if you are giving satisfaction.\nWhat makes you think you are not?\"\n\nI am not good at giving you that West Indies talk, and sha'n't\ntry; but the doctor beat about the bush awhile, and then he told\nme he thought the men were beginning to play tricks on him, and\n", "he didn't like it, and thought he hadn't deserved it, and would\nlike his discharge at our next port. I told him he was a d----d\nfool, of course, to begin with; and that men were more apt to try\na joke with a chap they liked than with anybody they wanted to\nget rid of; unless it was a bad joke, like flooding his bunk, or\nfilling his boots with tar. But it wasn't that kind of practical\njoke. The doctor said that the men were trying to frighten him,\nand he didn'", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "\n\nI told her I thought so, too. We passed the gate and went into\nthe next field, walking side by side. Then she turned her head to\nlook for Jack, but he wasn't in sight. I sha'n't forget what she\nsaid next.\n\n\"Are you sure now?\" she asked.\n\nI stood stock-still, and she went on a step, and then turned and\nlooked at me. We must have looked at each other while you could\ncount five or six.\n\n\"I know it's silly,\" she went on,", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "saying\nthat the other had worn it last. So that was no sign either. The\ncook was a West Indiaman, called James Lawley; his father had\nbeen hanged for putting lights in cocoanut trees where they\ndidn't belong. But he was a good cook, and knew his business; and\nit wasn't soup-and-bully and dog's-body every Sunday. That's\nwhat I meant to say. On Sunday the cook called both those boys\nJim, and on week-days he called them Jack. He used to say he", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "for I didn't care whether she thought me a\nweak creature or not. I wasn't going to say a word that could\ninterfere with her happiness, and I didn't intend to go back on\nJack Benton; but I remembered what he had said when he left the\nship in Havana: that it wasn't his fault.\n\n\"All the same,\" Miss Mamie went on, as a woman will, without\nrealising what she was saying, \"all the same, I wish I had seen\nit happen. Then I should know.\"\n\nNext minute she knew", "of\nthem, and couldn't rely on them in a difficulty. So he paid them\noff, and let them go. When they had gone forward to get their\nkits, he asked me whether I wanted to go too, and for a minute I\nhad a sort of weak feeling that I might just as well. But I\ndidn't, and he was a good friend to me afterwards. Perhaps he was\ngrateful to me for sticking to him.\n\nWhen the men went off he didn't come on deck; but it was my duty\nto stand by while they left the" ], [ "steering, the other\nwas everlastingly hanging round as if he were waiting to relieve\nthe wheel, though he might have been enjoying a quiet nap for all\nI cared in such weather. Or else, when one was taking his turn at\nthe lookout, the other would be sitting on an anchor beside him.\nOne kept near the other, at night more than in the daytime. I\nnoticed that. They were fond of sitting on that anchor, and they\ngenerally tucked away their pipes under it, for the _Helen B._\nwas a dry boat in most weather,", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "he\nunderstood what the trouble was. Whatever he knew from the other\nmen, he was evidently living under a hard strain. He was quiet\nenough, and too quiet; but his face was set, and sometimes it\ntwitched oddly when he was at the wheel, and he would turn his\nhead round sharp to look behind him. A man doesn't do that\nnaturally, unless there's a vessel that he thinks is creeping up\non the quarter. When that happens, if the man at the wheel takes\na pride in his ship, he will almost always keep gl", "a little money, and having had a small legacy from\nan uncle in Norway, I got the command of a coastwise vessel, with\na small share in her. I was at home three weeks before going to\nsea, and Jack Benton saw my name in the local papers, and wrote\nto me.\n\nHe said that he had left the sea, and was trying farming, and he\nwas going to be married, and he asked if I wouldn't come over for\nthat, for it wasn't more than forty minutes by train; and he and\nMamie would be proud to have", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "ble up on deck\nand face it again. That was a good many years ago. Do you believe\nthat I can't hear \"Nancy Lee\" now, without feeling cold down my\nback? For I heard it too, now and then, after the man had\nexplained why he was always looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it\nwas imagination. I don't know. When I look back it seems to me\nthat I only remember a long fight against something I couldn't\nsee, against an appalling presence, against something worse than\ncholera or Yellow Jack or the plague--", ". We\nhad hardly shipped any water forward, and I suppose he had some\nway of tucking the pipe in, so that the rain hadn't floated it\noff. Presently he got on his legs again, and I saw that he had\ntwo pipes in his hand. One of them had belonged to his brother,\nand after looking at them a moment I suppose he recognised his\nown, for he put it in his mouth, dripping with water. Then he\nlooked at the other fully a minute without moving. When he had\nmade up his mind, I suppose, he quietly", "said Captain Hackstaff, \"but it\nappears to me that's the tune that man was whistling the night we\nlost the man overboard. I don't know why it has stuck in my head,\nand of course it's all nonsense; but it seems to me that I have\nheard it all the rest of the trip.\"\n\nI didn't say anything to that, but I wondered just how much the\nold man had understood. Then we turned in, and I slept ten hours\nwithout opening my eyes.\n\nI stuck to the _Helen B.", "you would least\nexpect to feel creepy. But I remembered how I had heard that same\ntune overhead at night in a gale of wind a fortnight earlier,\nand I am not ashamed to say that the same sensation came over\nme now, and I wished myself well out of the _Helen B._, and\naboard of any old cargo-dragger, with a windmill on deck, and an\neighty-nine-forty-eighter for captain, and a fresh leak whenever\nit breezed up.\n\nLittle by little during the next few days life", "through its block. The one who was steering watched him, and got\nas white as cheese. The other one was swinging about on the gaff\nend, and every time she rolled to leeward he brought up with a\njerk that would have sent anything but a monkey flying into\nspace. But he didn't leave it until he had rove the new rope, and\nhe got back all right. I think it was Jack at the wheel; the one\nthat seemed more cheerful, the one that whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" He\nhad rather have been doing the job himself than", " Crawford has been known to say, \"I might at this\n moment be a professor of Sanskrit in some American\n college;\" for that idea persisted after his return\n to the United States, where he entered Harvard for\n special study of the subject.\n\n But from the May evening when the story of the\n interesting man at Simla was first told in a club\n smoking-room overlooking Madison Square, Mr. Crawford's\n life has been one of hard literary work. He returned to\n Italy in 1883, spent most of", "Franklin stove set into the old fireplace, and a red table-cloth\nfrom Alexandria, embroidered with those outlandish Egyptian\nletters. It was all as bright and homelike as possible, and he\nshowed me everything, and was proud of everything, and I liked\nhim the better for it. But I wished that his voice would sound\nmore cheerful, as it did when we first sailed in the _Helen B._,\nand that the drawn look would go out of his face for a minute.\nJack showed me everything, and took me upstairs", "\nsort of hunted look, and his yellow face looked grey. He wasn't\ntrying to make trouble. He was in trouble. So I asked him\nquestions.\n\nHe said he could count as well as anybody, and do sums without\nusing his fingers, but that when he couldn't count any other way\nhe did use his fingers, and it always came out the same. He said\nthat when he and the cabin-boy cleared up after the men's meals\nthere were more things to wash than he had given out. There'd be\na fork more, or", "illa sheet; and\nin dry weather it did make a little noise, something between a creak and\na wheeze. I looked at it and looked at the man, and said nothing; and\npresently he went on. He asked me if I didn't notice anything peculiar\nabout the noise. I listened awhile, and said I didn't notice anything.\nThen he looked rather sheepish, but said he didn't think it could be his\nown ears, because every man who steered his trick heard the same thing\nnow and then,--sometimes once in a day, sometimes once" ], [ "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "a little money, and having had a small legacy from\nan uncle in Norway, I got the command of a coastwise vessel, with\na small share in her. I was at home three weeks before going to\nsea, and Jack Benton saw my name in the local papers, and wrote\nto me.\n\nHe said that he had left the sea, and was trying farming, and he\nwas going to be married, and he asked if I wouldn't come over for\nthat, for it wasn't more than forty minutes by train; and he and\nMamie would be proud to have", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "was very pretty, and she\ncouldn't walk home like that, could she?\n\nSo when we had all had a little supper the party began to break\nup, and when they were all gone Mrs. Brewster and Mamie went\nupstairs, and Jack and I went out on the piazza, to have a\nsmoke, as the old lady didn't like tobacco in the house.\n\nThe full moon had risen now, and it was behind me as I looked\ndown toward Jack's cottage, so that everything was clear and\nwhite, and there was only", "order the spanker set and the helm up. But he didn't turn out\nbefore seven bells, just as the clouds broke and showed blue sky\nto leeward--\"the Frenchman's barometer,\" you used to call it.\n\nSome people don't seem to be so dead, when they are dead, as\nothers are. Jim Benton was like that. He had been on my watch,\nand I couldn't get used to the idea that he wasn't about decks\nwith me. I was always expecting to see him, and his brother was\nso", "side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack\nput his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and\nI saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the\nmoonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad\nand black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening\nwith the unevenness of the ground beside the path.\n\nI thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she\nwas a hard New England woman her voice", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "the damp came up out of the sea and\nsettled on everything. Jack said he'd go down to his cottage and\nhave a last look, for the wedding was to be at five o'clock, or\nsoon after, and he wanted to light the lights, so as to have\nthings look cheerful.\n\n\"I will just take a last look,\" he said again, as we reached the\nhouse. We went in, and he offered me another cigar, and I lit it\nand sat down in the parlour. I could hear him moving about, first\nin the", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "Jack made a show of pressing me to go with\nthem by the path as far as the cottage, instead of going to the\nstation by the beach road. It was all very quiet, and it seemed\nto me a sensible way of getting married; and when Mamie kissed\nher mother good-night I just looked the other way, and knocked my\nashes over the rail of the piazza. So they started down the\nstraight path to Jack's cottage, and I waited a minute with Mrs.\nBrewster, looking after them, before taking my hat to go. They\nwalked", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would" ], [ ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "\nthing. We all felt as if there were a hand on board, sometimes\nbelow, sometimes about decks, sometimes aloft, sometimes on the\nboom end; taking his full share of what the others got, but doing\nno work for it. We didn't only feel it, we knew it. He took up no\nroom, he cast no shadow, and we never heard his footfall on deck;\nbut he took his whack with the rest as regular as the bells,\nand--he whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" It was like the worst sort of dream\nyou can", "was Jack; James Benton and John Benton. The only difference I\never could see was, that one seemed to be rather more cheerful\nand inclined to talk than the other; but one couldn't even be\nsure of that. Perhaps they had moods. Anyhow, there was one of\nthem that used to whistle when he was alone. He only knew one\ntune, and that was \"Nancy Lee,\" and the other didn't know any\ntune at all; but I may be mistaken about that, too. Perhaps they\nboth knew it.\n\nWell,", "was very pretty, and she\ncouldn't walk home like that, could she?\n\nSo when we had all had a little supper the party began to break\nup, and when they were all gone Mrs. Brewster and Mamie went\nupstairs, and Jack and I went out on the piazza, to have a\nsmoke, as the old lady didn't like tobacco in the house.\n\nThe full moon had risen now, and it was behind me as I looked\ndown toward Jack's cottage, so that everything was clear and\nwhite, and there was only", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "said Captain Hackstaff, \"but it\nappears to me that's the tune that man was whistling the night we\nlost the man overboard. I don't know why it has stuck in my head,\nand of course it's all nonsense; but it seems to me that I have\nheard it all the rest of the trip.\"\n\nI didn't say anything to that, but I wondered just how much the\nold man had understood. Then we turned in, and I slept ten hours\nwithout opening my eyes.\n\nI stuck to the _Helen B.", "to\nwalk him down the pathway from the house. He walked him straight\ndown that path, as steadily as Fate; and all the time I saw the\nmoonlight shining on his wet oilskins. He walked him through the\ngate, and across the beach road, and out upon the wet sand, where\nthe tide was high. Then I got my breath with a gulp, and ran for\nthem across the grass, and vaulted over the fence, and stumbled\nacross the road. But when I felt the sand under my feet, the two\nwere at the water'", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "through its block. The one who was steering watched him, and got\nas white as cheese. The other one was swinging about on the gaff\nend, and every time she rolled to leeward he brought up with a\njerk that would have sent anything but a monkey flying into\nspace. But he didn't leave it until he had rove the new rope, and\nhe got back all right. I think it was Jack at the wheel; the one\nthat seemed more cheerful, the one that whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" He\nhad rather have been doing the job himself than", "eyes had a queer look in them, half shifty, half\nscared. He needn't have been afraid of me, for I didn't mean to\ntalk to his bride about the _Helen B. Jackson_.\n\nHe took me to his cottage first, and I could see that he was\nproud of it. It wasn't above a cable's-length from high-water\nmark, but the tide was running out, and there was already a broad\nstretch of hard wet sand on the other side of the beach road.\nJack's bit of land" ], [ "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "has felt that blank feeling there is when a\nman's gone overboard whom everybody likes. I suppose landsmen\nthink it would be easier if they didn't have to bury their\nfathers and mothers and friends; but it wouldn't be. Somehow the\nfuneral keeps up the idea of something beyond. You may believe in\nthat something just the same; but a man who has gone in the dark,\nbetween two seas, without a cry, seems much more beyond reach\nthan if he were still lying on his bed, and had only just stopped\nbreathing. Perhaps Jim Bent", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", "out of that ship, if they had to swim for it; to get away from\nthat whistling, from that dead shipmate who had come back, and\nwho filled the ship with his unseen self. I know that if the old\nman and I hadn't kept a sharp lookout the men would have put a\nboat over quietly on one of those calm nights, and pulled away,\nleaving the captain and me and the mad cook to work the schooner\ninto harbour. We should have done it somehow, of course, for we\nhadn't far to run if we could", "He was a quiet man, and the men knew he was right, and that they\nhad seen the last of Jim Benton when they were bending the\ntrysail--if anybody had seen him then. The captain went below\nagain, and for some time the men stood around Jack, quite near\nhim, without saying anything, as sailors do when they are sorry\nfor a man and can't help him; and then the watch below turned in\nagain, and we were three on deck.\n\nNobody can understand that there can be much consolation in a\nfuneral, unless he", "order the spanker set and the helm up. But he didn't turn out\nbefore seven bells, just as the clouds broke and showed blue sky\nto leeward--\"the Frenchman's barometer,\" you used to call it.\n\nSome people don't seem to be so dead, when they are dead, as\nothers are. Jim Benton was like that. He had been on my watch,\nand I couldn't get used to the idea that he wasn't about decks\nwith me. I was always expecting to see him, and his brother was\nso", "t meant for the cook.\n\nI asked some questions about Jack Benton, and one of the men told\nme that he was off his feed, and hardly ate anything, and\nswallowed all the coffee he could lay his hands on, and had used\nup all his own tobacco and had begun on what his brother had\nleft.\n\n\"The doctor says it ain't so, sir,\" said the man, looking at me\nshyly, as if he didn't expect to be believed; \"the doctor says\nthere's as much eaten from breakfast to breakfast as there was\nbefore", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "s edge; and when I reached the water they were\nfar out, and up to their waists; and I saw that Jack Benton's\nhead had fallen forward on his breast, and his free arm hung limp\nbeside him, while his dead brother steadily marched him to his\ndeath. The moonlight was on the dark water, but the fog-bank was\nwhite beyond, and I saw them against it; and they went slowly and\nsteadily down. The water was up to their armpits, and then up to\ntheir shoulders, and then I saw it rise", "up to the black rim of\nJack's hat. But they never wavered; and the two heads went\nstraight on, straight on, till they were under, and there was\njust a ripple in the moonlight where Jack had been.\n\nIt has been on my mind to tell you that story, whenever I got a\nchance. You have known me, man and boy, a good many years; and I\nthought I would like to hear your opinion. Yes, that's what I\nalways thought. It wasn't Jim that went overboard; it was Jack", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "exactly like him that I often felt as if I did see him and\nforgot he was dead, and made the mistake of calling Jack by his\nname; though I tried not to, because I knew it must hurt. If ever\nJack had been the cheerful one of the two, as I had always\nsupposed he had been, he had changed very much, for he grew to be\nmore silent than Jim had ever been.\n\nOne fine afternoon I was sitting on the main-hatch, overhauling\nthe clock-work of the taffrail-log, which hadn't", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would" ], [ "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "a little money, and having had a small legacy from\nan uncle in Norway, I got the command of a coastwise vessel, with\na small share in her. I was at home three weeks before going to\nsea, and Jack Benton saw my name in the local papers, and wrote\nto me.\n\nHe said that he had left the sea, and was trying farming, and he\nwas going to be married, and he asked if I wouldn't come over for\nthat, for it wasn't more than forty minutes by train; and he and\nMamie would be proud to have", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "Neither Jack nor Mamie seemed to notice the sailor. She\ndidn't seem to know that his wet arm was round her, and little by\nlittle they got near the cottage, and I wasn't a hundred yards\nfrom them when they reached the door. Something made me stand\nstill then. Perhaps it was fright, for I saw everything that\nhappened just as I see you now.\n\nMamie set her foot on the step to go up, and as she went forward\nI saw the sailor slowly lock his arm in Jack's, and Jack didn't", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "to\nwalk him down the pathway from the house. He walked him straight\ndown that path, as steadily as Fate; and all the time I saw the\nmoonlight shining on his wet oilskins. He walked him through the\ngate, and across the beach road, and out upon the wet sand, where\nthe tide was high. Then I got my breath with a gulp, and ran for\nthem across the grass, and vaulted over the fence, and stumbled\nacross the road. But when I felt the sand under my feet, the two\nwere at the water'", "the damp came up out of the sea and\nsettled on everything. Jack said he'd go down to his cottage and\nhave a last look, for the wedding was to be at five o'clock, or\nsoon after, and he wanted to light the lights, so as to have\nthings look cheerful.\n\n\"I will just take a last look,\" he said again, as we reached the\nhouse. We went in, and he offered me another cigar, and I lit it\nand sat down in the parlour. I could hear him moving about, first\nin the", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", ". We\nhad hardly shipped any water forward, and I suppose he had some\nway of tucking the pipe in, so that the rain hadn't floated it\noff. Presently he got on his legs again, and I saw that he had\ntwo pipes in his hand. One of them had belonged to his brother,\nand after looking at them a moment I suppose he recognised his\nown, for he put it in his mouth, dripping with water. Then he\nlooked at the other fully a minute without moving. When he had\nmade up his mind, I suppose, he quietly", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "there'd be a spoon more, and sometimes there'd be\na spoon and a fork, and there was always a plate more. It wasn't\nthat he complained of that. Before poor Jim Benton was lost they\nhad a man more to feed, and his gear to wash up after meals, and\nthat was in the contract, the doctor said. It would have been if\nthere were twenty in the ship's company; but he didn't think it\nwas right for the men to play tricks like that. He kept his\nthings in good order, and he counted them, and", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "said Captain Hackstaff, \"but it\nappears to me that's the tune that man was whistling the night we\nlost the man overboard. I don't know why it has stuck in my head,\nand of course it's all nonsense; but it seems to me that I have\nheard it all the rest of the trip.\"\n\nI didn't say anything to that, but I wondered just how much the\nold man had understood. Then we turned in, and I slept ten hours\nwithout opening my eyes.\n\nI stuck to the _Helen B.", "eyes had a queer look in them, half shifty, half\nscared. He needn't have been afraid of me, for I didn't mean to\ntalk to his bride about the _Helen B. Jackson_.\n\nHe took me to his cottage first, and I could see that he was\nproud of it. It wasn't above a cable's-length from high-water\nmark, but the tide was running out, and there was already a broad\nstretch of hard wet sand on the other side of the beach road.\nJack's bit of land", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "was very pretty, and she\ncouldn't walk home like that, could she?\n\nSo when we had all had a little supper the party began to break\nup, and when they were all gone Mrs. Brewster and Mamie went\nupstairs, and Jack and I went out on the piazza, to have a\nsmoke, as the old lady didn't like tobacco in the house.\n\nThe full moon had risen now, and it was behind me as I looked\ndown toward Jack's cottage, so that everything was clear and\nwhite, and there was only", "of\nthem, and couldn't rely on them in a difficulty. So he paid them\noff, and let them go. When they had gone forward to get their\nkits, he asked me whether I wanted to go too, and for a minute I\nhad a sort of weak feeling that I might just as well. But I\ndidn't, and he was a good friend to me afterwards. Perhaps he was\ngrateful to me for sticking to him.\n\nWhen the men went off he didn't come on deck; but it was my duty\nto stand by while they left the" ], [ "order the spanker set and the helm up. But he didn't turn out\nbefore seven bells, just as the clouds broke and showed blue sky\nto leeward--\"the Frenchman's barometer,\" you used to call it.\n\nSome people don't seem to be so dead, when they are dead, as\nothers are. Jim Benton was like that. He had been on my watch,\nand I couldn't get used to the idea that he wasn't about decks\nwith me. I was always expecting to see him, and his brother was\nso", "has felt that blank feeling there is when a\nman's gone overboard whom everybody likes. I suppose landsmen\nthink it would be easier if they didn't have to bury their\nfathers and mothers and friends; but it wouldn't be. Somehow the\nfuneral keeps up the idea of something beyond. You may believe in\nthat something just the same; but a man who has gone in the dark,\nbetween two seas, without a cry, seems much more beyond reach\nthan if he were still lying on his bed, and had only just stopped\nbreathing. Perhaps Jim Bent", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "exactly like him that I often felt as if I did see him and\nforgot he was dead, and made the mistake of calling Jack by his\nname; though I tried not to, because I knew it must hurt. If ever\nJack had been the cheerful one of the two, as I had always\nsupposed he had been, he had changed very much, for he grew to be\nmore silent than Jim had ever been.\n\nOne fine afternoon I was sitting on the main-hatch, overhauling\nthe clock-work of the taffrail-log, which hadn't", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "He was a quiet man, and the men knew he was right, and that they\nhad seen the last of Jim Benton when they were bending the\ntrysail--if anybody had seen him then. The captain went below\nagain, and for some time the men stood around Jack, quite near\nhim, without saying anything, as sailors do when they are sorry\nfor a man and can't help him; and then the watch below turned in\nagain, and we were three on deck.\n\nNobody can understand that there can be much consolation in a\nfuneral, unless he", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "t know that I\never told that story since it happened--I knew a fellow who went\nover, and came back dead. I didn't see him after he came back;\nonly one of us did, but we all knew he was there.\n\nNo, I am not giving you \"sharks.\" There isn't a shark in this\nstory, and I don't know that I would tell it at all if we weren't\nalone, just you and I. But you and I have seen things in various\nparts, and maybe you will understand. Anyhow, you know that", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "\ngone.\"\n\nIt was about nine o'clock in the morning, I remember, for just\nthen the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while\nhe took his fore observation. Captain Hackstaff wasn't one of\nthose old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket\nwatch, and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat\npocket, and won't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is\nout. He was rather the other way, and I was glad of it, for he\ngenerally let me work the sights he", "to\nwalk him down the pathway from the house. He walked him straight\ndown that path, as steadily as Fate; and all the time I saw the\nmoonlight shining on his wet oilskins. He walked him through the\ngate, and across the beach road, and out upon the wet sand, where\nthe tide was high. Then I got my breath with a gulp, and ran for\nthem across the grass, and vaulted over the fence, and stumbled\nacross the road. But when I felt the sand under my feet, the two\nwere at the water'", "So Mamie and I began to walk along the path, and Jack went up\ntoward the barn.\n\n\"It was sweet of you to come, captain,\" Miss Mamie began, \"for I\nhave always wanted to see you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, expecting something more.\n\n\"You see, I always knew them both,\" she went on. \"They used to\ntake me out in a dory to catch codfish when I was a little girl,\nand I liked them both,\" she added thoughtfully. \"Jack doesn't\ncare to talk about his brother now", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "on knew that, and wanted to come back\nto us. I don't know, and I am only telling you what happened, and\nyou may think what you like.\n\nJack stuck by the wheel that night until the watch was over. I\ndon't know whether he slept afterwards, but when I came on deck\nfour hours later, there he was again, in his oilskins, with his\nsou'wester over his eyes, staring into the binnacle. We saw that\nhe would rather stand there, and we left him alone. Perhaps it\nwas some consolation to", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", ". I caught the cook by the foot, and asked who was\ngone.\n\n\"It's Jim Benton,\" he shouted down to me. \"He's not aboard this\nship!\"\n\nThere was no doubt about that. Jim Benton was gone; and I knew in\na flash that he had been taken off by that sea when we were\nsetting the storm trysail. It was nearly half an hour since then;\nshe had run like wild for a few minutes until we got her hove-to,\nand no swimmer that ever swam could have lived as long as", "s edge; and when I reached the water they were\nfar out, and up to their waists; and I saw that Jack Benton's\nhead had fallen forward on his breast, and his free arm hung limp\nbeside him, while his dead brother steadily marched him to his\ndeath. The moonlight was on the dark water, but the fog-bank was\nwhite beyond, and I saw them against it; and they went slowly and\nsteadily down. The water was up to their armpits, and then up to\ntheir shoulders, and then I saw it rise" ], [ "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "but I knew it was one of the Benton boys. I don't know what made\nme speak to him. \"Hullo, Jim! Is that you?\" I asked. I don't know\nwhy I said Jim, rather than Jack.\n\n\"I am Jack,\" he answered. We made all fast, and things were much\nquieter.\n\n\"The old man heard you whistling 'Nancy Lee,' just now,\" I said,\n\"and he didn't like it.\"\n\nIt was as if there were a white light inside his face, and it was\n", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "through its block. The one who was steering watched him, and got\nas white as cheese. The other one was swinging about on the gaff\nend, and every time she rolled to leeward he brought up with a\njerk that would have sent anything but a monkey flying into\nspace. But he didn't leave it until he had rove the new rope, and\nhe got back all right. I think it was Jack at the wheel; the one\nthat seemed more cheerful, the one that whistled \"Nancy Lee.\" He\nhad rather have been doing the job himself than", "the parson stopped, and asked her\nwhat was the matter, and the family gathered round.\n\n\"Your hand's like ice,\" said Mamie to Jack, \"and it's all wet!\"\n\nShe kept looking at it, as she got hold of herself again.\n\n\"It don't feel cold to me,\" said Jack, and he held the back of\nhis hand against his cheek. \"Try it again.\"\n\nMamie held out hers, and touched the back of his hand, timidly at\nfirst, and then took hold of it.\n\n\"Why", "was walking between two men. The second man was\njust the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head\ntaller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and\nround hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a\nsailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on\nthe water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had\nsettled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:\nand one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mam", "exactly like him that I often felt as if I did see him and\nforgot he was dead, and made the mistake of calling Jack by his\nname; though I tried not to, because I knew it must hurt. If ever\nJack had been the cheerful one of the two, as I had always\nsupposed he had been, he had changed very much, for he grew to be\nmore silent than Jim had ever been.\n\nOne fine afternoon I was sitting on the main-hatch, overhauling\nthe clock-work of the taffrail-log, which hadn't", "So Mamie and I began to walk along the path, and Jack went up\ntoward the barn.\n\n\"It was sweet of you to come, captain,\" Miss Mamie began, \"for I\nhave always wanted to see you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, expecting something more.\n\n\"You see, I always knew them both,\" she went on. \"They used to\ntake me out in a dory to catch codfish when I was a little girl,\nand I liked them both,\" she added thoughtfully. \"Jack doesn't\ncare to talk about his brother now", "you would least\nexpect to feel creepy. But I remembered how I had heard that same\ntune overhead at night in a gale of wind a fortnight earlier,\nand I am not ashamed to say that the same sensation came over\nme now, and I wished myself well out of the _Helen B._, and\naboard of any old cargo-dragger, with a windmill on deck, and an\neighty-nine-forty-eighter for captain, and a fresh leak whenever\nit breezed up.\n\nLittle by little during the next few days life", "was Jack; James Benton and John Benton. The only difference I\never could see was, that one seemed to be rather more cheerful\nand inclined to talk than the other; but one couldn't even be\nsure of that. Perhaps they had moods. Anyhow, there was one of\nthem that used to whistle when he was alone. He only knew one\ntune, and that was \"Nancy Lee,\" and the other didn't know any\ntune at all; but I may be mistaken about that, too. Perhaps they\nboth knew it.\n\nWell,", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "he\nunderstood what the trouble was. Whatever he knew from the other\nmen, he was evidently living under a hard strain. He was quiet\nenough, and too quiet; but his face was set, and sometimes it\ntwitched oddly when he was at the wheel, and he would turn his\nhead round sharp to look behind him. A man doesn't do that\nnaturally, unless there's a vessel that he thinks is creeping up\non the quarter. When that happens, if the man at the wheel takes\na pride in his ship, he will almost always keep gl", "must\nbe right sometimes if he did that, because even the hands on a\npainted clock point right twice a day.\n\nWhat started me to trying for some way of telling the Bentons\napart was this. I heard them talking about a girl. It was at\nnight, in our watch, and the wind had headed us off a little\nrather suddenly, and when we had flattened in the jibs, we clewed\ndown the topsails, while the two Benton boys got the spanker\nsheet aft. One of them was at the helm. I co", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was" ], [ "exactly like him that I often felt as if I did see him and\nforgot he was dead, and made the mistake of calling Jack by his\nname; though I tried not to, because I knew it must hurt. If ever\nJack had been the cheerful one of the two, as I had always\nsupposed he had been, he had changed very much, for he grew to be\nmore silent than Jim had ever been.\n\nOne fine afternoon I was sitting on the main-hatch, overhauling\nthe clock-work of the taffrail-log, which hadn't", "has felt that blank feeling there is when a\nman's gone overboard whom everybody likes. I suppose landsmen\nthink it would be easier if they didn't have to bury their\nfathers and mothers and friends; but it wouldn't be. Somehow the\nfuneral keeps up the idea of something beyond. You may believe in\nthat something just the same; but a man who has gone in the dark,\nbetween two seas, without a cry, seems much more beyond reach\nthan if he were still lying on his bed, and had only just stopped\nbreathing. Perhaps Jim Bent", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "order the spanker set and the helm up. But he didn't turn out\nbefore seven bells, just as the clouds broke and showed blue sky\nto leeward--\"the Frenchman's barometer,\" you used to call it.\n\nSome people don't seem to be so dead, when they are dead, as\nothers are. Jim Benton was like that. He had been on my watch,\nand I couldn't get used to the idea that he wasn't about decks\nwith me. I was always expecting to see him, and his brother was\nso", "So Mamie and I began to walk along the path, and Jack went up\ntoward the barn.\n\n\"It was sweet of you to come, captain,\" Miss Mamie began, \"for I\nhave always wanted to see you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, expecting something more.\n\n\"You see, I always knew them both,\" she went on. \"They used to\ntake me out in a dory to catch codfish when I was a little girl,\nand I liked them both,\" she added thoughtfully. \"Jack doesn't\ncare to talk about his brother now", "step on them, he spoke again.\n\n\"That was his room, sir. I have made a sort of store-room of it.\"\n\n\"You may be wanting it in a year or so,\" I said, wishing to be\npleasant.\n\n\"I guess we won't use his room for that,\" Jack answered in a low\nvoice.\n\nThen he offered me a cigar from a fresh box in the parlour, and\nhe took one, and we lit them, and went out; and as we opened the\nfront door there was Mamie Brewster standing in the", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "chucked it over the lee\nrail, without even looking round to see whether I was watching\nhim. I thought it was a pity, for it was a good wooden pipe, with\na nickel ferrule, and somebody would have been glad to have it.\nBut I didn't like to make any remark, for he had a right to do\nwhat he pleased with what had belonged to his dead brother. He\nblew the water out of his own pipe, and dried it against his\njacket, putting his hand inside his oilskin; he filled it,\nstanding under the lee", "He was a quiet man, and the men knew he was right, and that they\nhad seen the last of Jim Benton when they were bending the\ntrysail--if anybody had seen him then. The captain went below\nagain, and for some time the men stood around Jack, quite near\nhim, without saying anything, as sailors do when they are sorry\nfor a man and can't help him; and then the watch below turned in\nagain, and we were three on deck.\n\nNobody can understand that there can be much consolation in a\nfuneral, unless he", "brothers, and how like they had been, and how when\npoor Jim was drowned and Jack was left, I took Jack for him. I\ntold her that none of us had ever been sure which was which.\n\n\"I wasn't always sure myself,\" she said, \"unless they were\ntogether. Leastways, not for a day or two after they came home\nfrom sea. And now it seems to me that Jack is more like poor Jim,\nas I remember him, than he ever was, for Jim was always more\nquiet, as if he were thinking.\"", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "them think I had\ncome too late.\n\nWhen I reached the cottage and lifted Mamie up, she was raving\nmad. She got better afterwards, but she was never right in her\nhead again.\n\nOh, you want to know if they found Jack's body? I don't know\nwhether it was his, but I read in a paper at a Southern port\nwhere I was with my new ship that two dead bodies had come ashore\nin a gale down East, in pretty bad shape. They were locked\ntogether, and one was a skeleton in oilsk", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "the parson stopped, and asked her\nwhat was the matter, and the family gathered round.\n\n\"Your hand's like ice,\" said Mamie to Jack, \"and it's all wet!\"\n\nShe kept looking at it, as she got hold of herself again.\n\n\"It don't feel cold to me,\" said Jack, and he held the back of\nhis hand against his cheek. \"Try it again.\"\n\nMamie held out hers, and touched the back of his hand, timidly at\nfirst, and then took hold of it.\n\n\"Why", "When he answered, his voice, somehow, didn't sound like\nthe cheerful one. Perhaps his brother had relieved the wheel\nwhile they had been speaking, but what I had heard set me\nwondering which of them it was that had a girl at home. There's\nlots of time for wondering on a schooner in fair weather.\n\nAfter that I thought I noticed that the two brothers were more\nsilent when they were together. Perhaps they guessed that I had\noverheard something that night, and kept quiet when I was about.\nSome men would have amused themselves", "that she didn't mean that, and was afraid\nthat I would think her heartless, and began to explain that she\nwould really rather have died herself than have seen poor Jim go\noverboard. Women haven't got much sense, anyhow. All the same, I\nwondered how she could marry Jack if she had a doubt that he\nmight be Jim after all. I suppose she had really got used to him\nsince he had given up the sea and had stayed ashore, and she\ncared for him.\n\nBefore long we heard Jack coming up behind us, for", "imagine; and I dare say a good many of us tried to\nbelieve it was nothing else sometimes, when we stood looking over\nthe weather rail in fine weather with the breeze in our faces;\nbut if we happened to turn round and look into each other's eyes,\nwe knew it was something worse than any dream could be; and we\nwould turn away from each other with a queer, sick feeling,\nwishing that we could just for once see somebody who didn't know\nwhat we knew.\n\nThere's not much more to tell about the _Helen B. Jackson", "by trying to chaff them\nseparately about the girl at home, and I suppose whichever one it\nwas would have let the cat out of the bag if I had done that.\nBut, somehow, I didn't like to. Yes, I was thinking of getting\nmarried myself at that time, so I had a sort of fellow-feeling\nfor whichever one it was, that made me not want to chaff him.\n\nThey didn't talk much, it seemed to me; but in fair weather, when\nthere was nothing to do at night, and one was", "t know that I\never told that story since it happened--I knew a fellow who went\nover, and came back dead. I didn't see him after he came back;\nonly one of us did, but we all knew he was there.\n\nNo, I am not giving you \"sharks.\" There isn't a shark in this\nstory, and I don't know that I would tell it at all if we weren't\nalone, just you and I. But you and I have seen things in various\nparts, and maybe you will understand. Anyhow, you know that", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort" ], [ "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "\nmove to go up. Then Mamie turned round on the step, and they all\nthree stood that way for a second or two. She cried out then,--I\nheard a man cry like that once, when his arm was taken off by a\nsteam-crane,--and she fell back in a heap on the little piazza.\n\nI tried to jump forward, but I couldn't move, and I felt my hair\nrising under my hat. The sailor turned slowly where he stood, and\nswung Jack round by the arm steadily and easily, and began", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "he\nunderstood what the trouble was. Whatever he knew from the other\nmen, he was evidently living under a hard strain. He was quiet\nenough, and too quiet; but his face was set, and sometimes it\ntwitched oddly when he was at the wheel, and he would turn his\nhead round sharp to look behind him. A man doesn't do that\nnaturally, unless there's a vessel that he thinks is creeping up\non the quarter. When that happens, if the man at the wheel takes\na pride in his ship, he will almost always keep gl", "of\nthem, and couldn't rely on them in a difficulty. So he paid them\noff, and let them go. When they had gone forward to get their\nkits, he asked me whether I wanted to go too, and for a minute I\nhad a sort of weak feeling that I might just as well. But I\ndidn't, and he was a good friend to me afterwards. Perhaps he was\ngrateful to me for sticking to him.\n\nWhen the men went off he didn't come on deck; but it was my duty\nto stand by while they left the", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "shaking; but I didn't. I just picked up the knife and gave\nit to him, and told him to go back to his galley, and not to make\na fool of himself. You see, he hadn't struck at Jack, but at\nsomething he thought he saw, and I knew what it was, and I felt\nthat same thing, like a lump of ice sliding down my back, that I\nfelt that night when we were bending the trysail.\n\nWhen the men had seen him running aft, they jumped up after him,\nbut they held off", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "ashore at the next port we should\nnever see him again, if he had to leave his kit behind him, and\nhis money, too. He was scared all through, for good and all; and\nhe wouldn't be right again till he got another ship. It's no use\nto talk to a man when he gets like that, any more than it is to\nsend a boy to the main truck when he has lost his nerve.\n\nJack Benton never spoke of what happened that evening. I don't\nknow whether he knew about the two forks, or not; or whether", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn", "he was responsible\nfor them, and it wasn't right that the men should take more\nthings than they needed when his back was turned, and just soil\nthem and mix them up with their own, so as to make him think--\n\nHe stopped there, and looked at me, and I looked at him. I didn't\nknow what he thought, but I began to guess. I wasn't going to\nhumour any such nonsense as that, so I told him to speak to the\nmen himself, and not come bothering me about such things.\n\n\"Count the plates", "to\nwalk him down the pathway from the house. He walked him straight\ndown that path, as steadily as Fate; and all the time I saw the\nmoonlight shining on his wet oilskins. He walked him through the\ngate, and across the beach road, and out upon the wet sand, where\nthe tide was high. Then I got my breath with a gulp, and ran for\nthem across the grass, and vaulted over the fence, and stumbled\nacross the road. But when I felt the sand under my feet, the two\nwere at the water'" ], [ ",\nand Jim just let him go when he might have saved him; and then\nJim passed himself off for Jack with us, and with the girl. If\nthat's what happened, he got what he deserved. People said the\nnext day that Mamie found it out as they reached the house, and\nthat her husband just walked out into the sea, and drowned\nhimself; and they would have blamed me for not stopping him if\nthey'd known that I was there. But I never told what I had seen,\nfor they wouldn't have believed me. I just let", "une, he said, and it was nobody's fault. We had lost a\nman we all liked and respected, and he felt that everybody in the\nship ought to be sorry for the man's brother, who was left\nbehind, and that it was rotten lubberly childishness, and unjust\nand unmanly and cowardly, to be playing schoolboy tricks with\nforks and spoons and pipes, and that sort of gear. He said it had\ngot to stop right now, and that was all, and the men might go\nforward. And so", "when they saw that I had caught him. By and by,\nthe man who had spoken to me before told me what had happened. He\nwas a stocky little chap, with a red head.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"there isn't much to tell. Jack Benton had been\neating his supper with the rest of us. He always sits at the\nafter corner of the table, on the port side. His brother used to\nsit at the end, next him. The doctor gave him a thundering big\npiece of pie to finish up with, and when he", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "of\nthem, and couldn't rely on them in a difficulty. So he paid them\noff, and let them go. When they had gone forward to get their\nkits, he asked me whether I wanted to go too, and for a minute I\nhad a sort of weak feeling that I might just as well. But I\ndidn't, and he was a good friend to me afterwards. Perhaps he was\ngrateful to me for sticking to him.\n\nWhen the men went off he didn't come on deck; but it was my duty\nto stand by while they left the", "I was standing by\nlooking on. Just then Jack Benton came up from below, and went to\nlook for his pipe under the anchor. His face was hard and drawn,\nand his eyes were cold like steel balls. He hardly ever spoke\nnow, but he did his duty as usual, and nobody had to complain of\nhim, though we were all beginning to wonder how long his grief\nfor his dead brother was going to last like that. I watched him\nas he crouched down, and ran his hand into the hiding-place for\nthe pipe. When he stood up, he had two p", "of a yell and I saw the coloured cook going for Jack, with\na carving-knife in his hand. I jumped to get between them, and\nJack turned round short, and put out his hand. I was too far to\nreach them, and the cook jabbed out with his knife. But the blade\ndidn't get anywhere near Benton. The cook seemed to be jabbing it\ninto the air again and again, at least four feet short of the\nmark. Then he dropped his right hand, and I saw the whites of his\neyes in the d", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort", "he\nunderstood what the trouble was. Whatever he knew from the other\nmen, he was evidently living under a hard strain. He was quiet\nenough, and too quiet; but his face was set, and sometimes it\ntwitched oddly when he was at the wheel, and he would turn his\nhead round sharp to look behind him. A man doesn't do that\nnaturally, unless there's a vessel that he thinks is creeping up\non the quarter. When that happens, if the man at the wheel takes\na pride in his ship, he will almost always keep gl", "\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!\"\n\nThat was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder\nwhat he meant.\n\nThe captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a\nWest India boy to cook for us.\n\nThat evening, before turning in, we were standing by the rail\nhaving a quiet smoke, watching the lights of the city, a quarter\nof a mile off, reflected in the still water. There was music of\nsome sort ash", "he was responsible\nfor them, and it wasn't right that the men should take more\nthings than they needed when his back was turned, and just soil\nthem and mix them up with their own, so as to make him think--\n\nHe stopped there, and looked at me, and I looked at him. I didn't\nknow what he thought, but I began to guess. I wasn't going to\nhumour any such nonsense as that, so I told him to speak to the\nmen himself, and not come bothering me about such things.\n\n\"Count the plates", "he didn't like it, and thought he hadn't deserved it, and would\nlike his discharge at our next port. I told him he was a d----d\nfool, of course, to begin with; and that men were more apt to try\na joke with a chap they liked than with anybody they wanted to\nget rid of; unless it was a bad joke, like flooding his bunk, or\nfilling his boots with tar. But it wasn't that kind of practical\njoke. The doctor said that the men were trying to frighten him,\nand he didn'", "the steps, smoking. I have an idea\nthat he didn't like to stay inside alone.\n\n\"Well?\" he asked, trying to seem careless.\n\n\"I didn't find anybody,\" I answered, \"but I heard somebody moving\nabout.\" \"I told you it was the wind,\" said Jack, contemptuously.\n\"I ought to know, for I live here, and I hear it often.\"\n\nThere was nothing to be said to that, so we began to walk down\ntoward the beach. Jack said there wasn't any hurry, as it would", "\nmove to go up. Then Mamie turned round on the step, and they all\nthree stood that way for a second or two. She cried out then,--I\nheard a man cry like that once, when his arm was taken off by a\nsteam-crane,--and she fell back in a heap on the little piazza.\n\nI tried to jump forward, but I couldn't move, and I felt my hair\nrising under my hat. The sailor turned slowly where he stood, and\nswung Jack round by the arm steadily and easily, and began", "shaking; but I didn't. I just picked up the knife and gave\nit to him, and told him to go back to his galley, and not to make\na fool of himself. You see, he hadn't struck at Jack, but at\nsomething he thought he saw, and I knew what it was, and I felt\nthat same thing, like a lump of ice sliding down my back, that I\nfelt that night when we were bending the trysail.\n\nWhen the men had seen him running aft, they jumped up after him,\nbut they held off", "any drink in him. I think, if the doctor had been weak in the\nhead as he was afterwards, he might have done something foolish\nagain, and there might have been serious trouble. But he didn't.\nOnly, two or three times I saw him looking at Jack Benton in a\nqueer, scared way, and once I heard him talking to himself.\n\n\"There's two of them! So help me God, there's two of them!\"\n\nHe didn't say anything more about asking for his discharge, but I\nknew well enough that if he got", "have a knife into him\nbefore he could say his prayers.\"\n\nThose West India men are always talking about knives, especially\nwhen they are badly frightened. I knew what he meant, and didn't\nask him, but went on cleaning the brass cogwheels of the patent\nlog and oiling the bearings with a feather. \"Wouldn't it be\nbetter to wash it out with boiling water, sir?\" asked the cook,\nin an insinuating tone. He knew that he had made a fool of\nhimself, and was anxious to make it", "\nthen; and he didn't know her ways. I don't mean to say that what\nhappened was his fault. I don't know whose fault it was. Perhaps\nnobody was to blame. But I knew something happened somewhere on\nboard when we shipped that sea, and you'll never get it out of my\nhead. I hadn't any spare time myself, for I was becketing the\nrest of the trysail to the mast. We were on the starboard tack,\nand the throat-halliard came down to port as usual, and I suppose", "When he answered, his voice, somehow, didn't sound like\nthe cheerful one. Perhaps his brother had relieved the wheel\nwhile they had been speaking, but what I had heard set me\nwondering which of them it was that had a girl at home. There's\nlots of time for wondering on a schooner in fair weather.\n\nAfter that I thought I noticed that the two brothers were more\nsilent when they were together. Perhaps they guessed that I had\noverheard something that night, and kept quiet when I was about.\nSome men would have amused themselves", "been\nsmoked that day, and was shiny where his hand had rubbed it, and\nthe bone mouthpiece was chafed white where his teeth had bitten\nit. The other was water-logged. It was swelled and cracking with\nwet, and it looked to me as if there were a little green weed on\nit.\n\nJack Benton turned his head rather stealthily as I looked away,\nand then he hid the thing in his trousers pocket, and went aft on\nthe lee side, out of sight. The men had got the sheet penn" ], [ "had no boat that could have lived in that sea, of course, and\nwe all knew it. I offered to put one over, and let her drift\nastern two or three cable's-lengths by a line, if the men thought\nthey could haul me aboard again; but none of them would listen to\nthat, and I should probably have been drowned if I had tried it,\neven with a life-belt; for it was a breaking sea. Besides, they\nall knew as well as I did that the man could not be right in our\nwake. I don't know why", "steering, the other\nwas everlastingly hanging round as if he were waiting to relieve\nthe wheel, though he might have been enjoying a quiet nap for all\nI cared in such weather. Or else, when one was taking his turn at\nthe lookout, the other would be sitting on an anchor beside him.\nOne kept near the other, at night more than in the daytime. I\nnoticed that. They were fond of sitting on that anchor, and they\ngenerally tucked away their pipes under it, for the _Helen B._\nwas a dry boat in most weather,", "ship. They owed me a grudge for\nmaking them work during the last few days, and most of them\ndropped into the boat without so much as a word or a look, as\nsailors will. Jack Benton was the last to go over the side, and\nhe stood still a minute and looked at me, and his white face\ntwitched. I thought he wanted to say something.\n\n\"Take care of yourself, Jack,\" said I. \"So long!\"\n\nIt seemed as if he couldn't speak for two or three seconds; then\nhis words came thick.", "out of that ship, if they had to swim for it; to get away from\nthat whistling, from that dead shipmate who had come back, and\nwho filled the ship with his unseen self. I know that if the old\nman and I hadn't kept a sharp lookout the men would have put a\nboat over quietly on one of those calm nights, and pulled away,\nleaving the captain and me and the mad cook to work the schooner\ninto harbour. We should have done it somehow, of course, for we\nhadn't far to run if we could", "a square-rigger.\n\n\"Ay, ay, sir,\" said the man.\n\nThe captain told me to go below and work up the latitude from the\ndead-reckoning, and he went forward of the deck-house and sat\ndown to read, as he often did. When I came up, the man at the\nwheel was looking round again, and I stood beside him and just\nasked him quietly what everybody was looking at, for it was\ngetting to be a general habit. He wouldn't say anything at first,\nbut just answered that it was nothing.", "he\nunderstood what the trouble was. Whatever he knew from the other\nmen, he was evidently living under a hard strain. He was quiet\nenough, and too quiet; but his face was set, and sometimes it\ntwitched oddly when he was at the wheel, and he would turn his\nhead round sharp to look behind him. A man doesn't do that\nnaturally, unless there's a vessel that he thinks is creeping up\non the quarter. When that happens, if the man at the wheel takes\na pride in his ship, he will almost always keep gl", "becket, and I\nsang out to the men to sway away, and I was standing on the jaws\nof the spanker-gaff, with my left hand on the bolt-rope of the\ntrysail, so that I could feel when it was board-taut, and I\nwasn't thinking of anything except being glad the job was over,\nand that we were going to heave her to. It was as black as a\ncoal-pocket, except that you could see the streaks on the seas as\nthey went by, and abaft", "went back. I watched the compass for a while, to see how far she\nwent off, and she must have come to again half a dozen times\nbefore I heard voices, more than three or four, forward; and then\nI heard the little West Indies cook's voice, high and shrill\nabove the rest:--\n\n\"Man overboard!\"\n\nThere wasn't anything to be done, with the ship hove-to and the\nwheel lashed. If there was a man overboard, he must be in the\nwater right alongside. I couldn't imagine", "was walking between two men. The second man was\njust the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head\ntaller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and\nround hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a\nsailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on\nthe water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had\nsettled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:\nand one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mam", "\nthe iron. He didn't mean it to get adrift, either, for he took\nhis turns carefully, and hove them taut and then rode them, so\nthat they couldn't slip, and made the end fast with two\nhalf-hitches round the iron, and hitched it back on itself. Then\nhe tried it with his hands, and looked up and down the deck\nfurtively, and then quietly dropped the pipe and iron over the\nrail, so that I didn't even hear the splash. If anybody was\nplaying tricks on board, they weren'", "you would least\nexpect to feel creepy. But I remembered how I had heard that same\ntune overhead at night in a gale of wind a fortnight earlier,\nand I am not ashamed to say that the same sensation came over\nme now, and I wished myself well out of the _Helen B._, and\naboard of any old cargo-dragger, with a windmill on deck, and an\neighty-nine-forty-eighter for captain, and a fresh leak whenever\nit breezed up.\n\nLittle by little during the next few days life", "watch, and\nthe waning moon had not risen yet, and the water was like still\noil, and the jibs hung down flat and helpless like the wings of a\ndead bird--it wasn't the same then. More than once I have started\nthen, and looked round when a fish jumped, expecting to see a\nface sticking up out of the water with its eyes shut. I think we\nall felt something like that at the time.\n\nOne afternoon we were putting a fresh service on the\njib-sheet-pennant. It wasn't my watch, but", "the chronometer, as well as many a man who\ncommands a big square-rigger. Navigation ain't everything, nor\nseamanship, either. You've got to have it in you, if you mean to\nget there.\n\nI don't know how our captain heard that there was trouble\nforward. The cabin-boy may have told him, or the men may have\ntalked outside his door when they relieved the wheel at night.\nAnyhow, he got wind of it, and when he had got his sight that\nmorning he had all hands aft,", "er, Captain\nHackstaff. She was an old-fashioned one, even then--no steam\ndonkey, and all to do by hand. There were still sailors in the\ncoasting trade in those days, you remember. She wasn't a hard\nship, for the old man was better than most of them, though he\nkept to himself and had a face like a monkey-wrench. We were\nthirteen, all told, in the ship's company; and some of them\nafterwards thought that might have had something to do with it,\nbut I", "I am\ntelling what I know about, and nothing else; and it has been on\nmy mind to tell you ever since it happened, only there hasn't\nbeen a chance.\n\nIt's a long story, and it took some time to happen; and it began\na good many years ago, in October, as well as I can remember. I\nwas mate then; I passed the local Marine Board for master about\nthree years later. She was the _Helen B. Jackson_, of New York,\nwith lumber for the West Indies, four-masted schoon", "the weather roll. Then the old man got\nher up in the wind until the jib was shaking like thunder; then\nhe held her off, and she went off as soon as the head-sails\nfilled, and he couldn't get her back again without the spanker.\nThen the _Helen B._ did her favourite trick, and before we had\ntime to say much we had a sea over the quarter and were up to our\nwaists, with the parrels of the trysail only half becketed round\nthe mast, and the deck so full of gear that you", "voice. The old man took the\nwheel; we got the boom amidships, and he jammed her into the wind\nuntil she had hardly any way. It was blowing now, and it was all\nthat I and two others could do to get in the slack of the\ndownhaul, while the others lowered away at the peak and throat,\nand we had our hands full to get a couple of turns round the wet\nsail. It's all child's play on a fore-and-after compared with\nreefing topsails in anything like weather, but the gear of a\n", ".\"\n\n\"Well, then, Jack, where's Jim? He's not on deck.\"\n\n\"I don't know, sir.\"\n\nWhen I had come up to him he had stood up from force of instinct,\nand had laid his hands on the spokes as if he were steering,\nthough the wheel was lashed; but he still bent his face down, and\nit was half hidden by the edge of his sou'wester, while he seemed\nto be staring at the compass. He spoke in a very low voice, but\nthat was natural, for the captain had", "I spoke again. \"Jack Benton, are you\nthere? Will you go if I will?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" answered a voice; and that was all.\n\nBy that time the old man was on deck, and I felt his hand on my\nshoulder rather roughly, as if he meant to shake me.\n\n\"I'd reckoned you had more sense, Mr. Torkeldsen,\" he said. \"God\nknows I would risk my ship to look for him, if it were any use;\nbut he must have gone half an hour ago.\"\n\n", "they did.\n\nIt got worse after that, and the men watched the cook, and the\ncook watched the men, as if they were trying to catch each other;\nbut I think everybody felt that there was something else. One\nevening, at supper-time, I was on deck, and Jack came aft to\nrelieve the wheel while the man who was steering got his supper.\nHe hadn't got past the main-hatch on the lee side, when I heard a\nman running in slippers that slapped on the deck, and there was a\nsort" ] ]

[ "How long did the Coast Guard search for Champagne?", "How took out an insurance policy of Champagne?", "Which identity did Champagne assume?", "What state did Champagne live in under his assumed idenity?", "Who was Harold Stegeman in reality?", "What offense was Champagne eventually arrested for?", "What was Champagne's plea in court?", "How long was Champagne in federal prison?", "How old was Champagne when he died?", "Where was Champagne sailing when he disappeared?", "What year did Champagne disappear?", "Whose identity did Champagne steal?", "How many years did Champagne live before being caught?", "What was Champagne arrested for?", "How much time did Champagne serve in prison?", "What were Champagne's official charges?", "What occupation did Champagne have during his ten years living as Stegeman?", "How much was Champagne's life insurance policy?", "Who originally took out the insurance policy?", "Who would benefit from Phil's death?", "How much was the insurance policy offering?", "Where was Phil the time of death?", "Who did Phil become?", "What year did Phil die?", "How did Phil go to prison?", "Why did Phil go to prison?", "How big was the boat?" ]

[ [ "13 hours", "13 hours." ], [ "His brother", "His brother" ], [ "Harold Stegeman", "Harold Stegeman" ], [ "Washington", "Idaho." ], [ "An 8 year old boy who died", "Phil Champagne" ], [ "Counterfeiting", "Charges of counterfeiting and passport fraud." ], [ "Guilty", "Guilty" ], [ "21 months", "21 months." ], [ "52", "His presumed death occurred when he was 52" ], [ "Olympic Peninsula", "Off the Olympic Peninsula" ], [ "1982", "He disappeared in 1982." ], [ "Harold Stegeman", "Harold Stegeman." ], [ "10 years", "10 years." ], [ "Counterfeiting", "Champagne was arrested for counterfeiting U.S. currency in an Idaho garage." ], [ "21 months", "21 months" ], [ "Passport Fraud and counterfeiting", "Counterfeiting and passport fraud" ], [ "A Washington Restaurateur", "A washinton restaurateur" ], [ "1.5 million", "His life insurance policy was for $1.5 million." ], [ "Champagnes brother", "Phil's brother, co-partner in their construction firm" ], [ "Phil and whoever getting cash", "His brother and family would benefit from his death." ], [ "1.5million dollars", "$700,000" ], [ "Olympic Peninsula", "On a 45 ft yacht off Olympic Peninsula" ], [ "An 8 year old boy Harold Stegeman", "Harold Stegeman, a Washington restaurateur" ], [ "1982", "1982" ], [ "Counterfeiting U.S. currency in an Idaho garage", "When he was arrested for counterfitting" ], [ "He went for counterfeiting and passport fraud", "Counterfeiting U S currency" ], [ "45 foot yacht", "45 ft" ] ]

[ [ "conscious of this? How\ncould she have turned against him? He would not understand--of course\nhe would never understand. And he would hate her with the others--more\nthan the others. It was all a wretched muddle and she could not see her\nway out of it.\n\nMonty found his guests very difficult. They listened to his plans with\nbut little interest, and he could not but see that they were\nuncomfortable. The situation was new to their experience, and they were\nunder a strain. \"They mope around like a lot of pouting boys and\n", "of his\ncourse.\n\n\"Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.\"\n\n\"When I asked you to marry me,\" he continued gravely, \"it was with the\nthought that I could give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a\nfortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?\"\n\n\"No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I\nexpected, and I wanted you so much", "expected. He laughingly denounced as untrue the stories that had\ncome to her from outside sources. And before his convincing assertions\nthat reports were ridiculously exaggerated, the troubled expression in\nthe girl's eyes disappeared.\n\n\"I must seem a fool,\" groaned Monty, as he left the house after one of\nthese explanatory trials, \"but what will she think of me toward the end\nof the year when I am really in harness?\" He found it hard to control\nthe desire to be straight with Peggy and tell her the story of his mad\nr", "can't\nback out, but I'll tell you this. You shall not be disappointed in me\nin the end.\"\n\nThere was a mist before the girl's eyes as she looked at him. \"I\nbelieve you, Monty,\" she said simply; \"I shall not forget.\"\n\nThe curtain rose upon the next act, and something in the opera toward\nthe end seemed to bring the two very close together. As they were\nleaving the theater, there was a note of regret from Peggy. \"It has\nbeen perfect,\" she breathed, \"yet", "Monty would not\naccept advice. That he was mistaken about Barbara's feeling she did not\ndoubt for a moment, and she saw things going hopelessly wrong for want\nof a word. There were times when she let herself dream of\npossibilities, but they always ended by seeming too impossible. She\ncared too much to make the attainment of her vision seem simple. She\ncared too much to be sure of anything.\n\nAt moments she fancied that she might say a word to Miss Drew which\nwould straighten things out. But there was something about", "to Monty, whose name\nusually meant an embarrassing change of subject, began to seem\npossible. It was inevitable that Peggy should bring it in; for with her\na question of tact was never allowed to dominate when things of moment\nwere at stake. She cowered before the plunge, but she took it unafraid.\n\n\"The doctor says Monty may go out driving to-morrow,\" she began. \"Isn't\nthat fine?\"\n\nBarbara's only response was to touch her pony a little too sharply with\nthe whip. Peg", "Through two courses, at least, there was dead silence\nbetween them. It seemed as though every eye in the room were on them\nand every mind were speculating. At last, in sheer desperation, Barbara\nturned to him with the first smile he had seen on her face in days.\nThere was no smile in her eyes, however, and Monty understood.\n\n\"We might at least give out the impression that we are friends,\" she\nsaid quietly.\n\n\"More easily said than done,\" he responded gloomily.\n\n\"They are all looking at us and wondering.\"\n", "I can't stay on. I have betrayed your confidence.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it,\" and Monty was perhaps more uncomfortable than his\nfriend. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"You believed too much in me, Monty. You see, I thought I was doing you\na favor. You were spending so much and getting nothing in return, and I\nthought I saw a chance to help you out. It went wrong, that's all, and\nbefore I could let go of the stock sixty thousand dollars of your money\nhad gone. I can't replace it yet", "hoarsely, his hand still on the knob.\n\n\"Sit down, Brewster, and control yourself,\" said Ripley.\n\n\"Good God, man, can't you see I am calm?\" cried Monty. \"Go on--tell me\nall about it. What do you know? What have you heard?\"\n\n\"He cannot be found, that's all,\" announced Ripley, with deadly\nintentness. \"I don't know what it means. There is no explanation. The\nwhole thing is inconceivable. Sit down and", "silence was fraught with purpose.\nMonty glanced around the room, uncertain how to begin. It was not so\neasy as he had imagined.\n\n\"You are very good to see me,\" he said at last. \"It was absolutely\nnecessary for me to talk to you this evening; I could not have endured\nthe suspense any longer. Barbara, I've spent three or four sleepless\nnights on your account. Will it spoil your evening if I tell you in\nplain words what you already know? It won't bother you, will it?\" he\nfl", "y,\" she added, more softly, \"this sort of thing\nfrom me? I know I ought not to interfere, but I've known you so long.\nAnd I hate to see things twisted by a very little mistake.\"\n\nBut Monty did mind enormously. He had no desire to talk about the thing\nanyway, and Peggy's anxiety to marry him off seemed a bit unnecessary.\nManifestly her own interest in him was of the coldest. From out of the\ngloom he looked at her somewhat sullenly. For the moment she was\nthinking only", "\n\n\"Well, if Monty Brewster is still in love with Miss Drew he takes a\nmighty poor way of showing it.\" \"Subway\" Smith's remark fell like a\nbombshell. The thought had come to every one, but no one had been given\nthe courage to utter it. For them Brewster's silence on the subject\nsince the DeMille dinner seemed to have something ominous behind it.\n\n\"It's probably only a lovers' quarrel,\" said Bragdon. But further\ncomment was cut short by the entrance of Monty", "going to leave an order for new evening\nclothes to-morrow--if I have the time. And about the chaperon. People\nwon't be talking before to-morrow and by that time--\"\n\n\"No, Monty, Sherry's is out of the question. We can't go there,\" she\nsaid, decisively.\n\n\"Oh, Peggy! That spoils everything,\" he cried, in deep disappointment.\n\n\"It isn't fair to me, Monty. Everybody would know us, and every tongue\nwould wag", ", Monty, isn't it a waste that no one\nelse should have seen it? Think of these poverty-stricken peasants who\nadore music and have never heard an opera.\"\n\n\"Well, they shall hear one now.\" Monty rose to it, but he felt like a\nhypocrite in concealing his chief motive. \"We'll repeat the performance\nto-morrow night and fill the house with them.\"\n\nHe was as good as his word. Bertier was given a task the next day which\nwas not to his taste. But with the assistance of", "to heart, Peggy,\" said Monty, seriously. \"I'm pretty\nhard hit, and I want your help. A sister's advice is always the best in\na matter of this sort.\"\n\nShe looked into his eyes dully for an instant, not realizing the full\nimportance of his confession.\n\n\"You, Monty?\" she said, incredulously.\n\n\"I've got it bad, Peggy,\" he replied, staring hard at the floor. She\ncould not understand the cold, gray tone that suddenly enveloped the\nroom. The strange sense of", "himself, and they took\ntheir places at the table.\n\nBefore the evening came to an end they were in possession of many\nastonishing details in connection with the coming ball. Monty did not\nsay that it was to be given for Miss Drew and her name was\nconspicuously absent from his descriptions. As he unfolded his plans\neven the \"Little Sons,\" who were imaginative by instinct and reckless\non principle, could not be quite acquiescent.\n\n\"Nopper\" Harrison solemnly expressed the opinion that the ball would\n", "Monty,\" she said, \"but I'm wondering\nwhether I care enough to--to marry you.\"\n\n\"We haven't known each other very long, Babs,\" he said, tenderly, \"but\nI think we know each other well enough to be beyond wondering.\"\n\n\"It is like you to manage the whole thing,\" she said, chidingly. \"Can't\nyou give me time to convince myself that I love you as you would like,\nand as I must love if I expect to be happy with the man I marry?\"\n\n\"I forgot myself,\"", "somewhere, and there was no\ntenderness in the tones. For an instant Monty was dazed and bewildered,\nbut in the next he saw two shadowy figures walking beside him. \"Stop\nwhere you are, young fellow,\" was the next command, and he stopped\nshort. He was in a mood to fight, but the sight of a revolver made him\nthink again. Monty was not a coward, neither was he a fool. He was\nquick to see that a struggle would be madness.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he demanded as coolly as his", "not until Monty was summoned to rescue \"Reggie\" Vanderpool from\nthe stern arm of the law that he discovered the identity of\nPunchinello. Manifestly he had not been in a condition to recognize his\nassailant, and a subsequent disagreement had driven the first out of\nhis head. The poor boy was sadly bruised about the face and his arrest\nhad probably saved him from worse punishment.\n\n\"I told you I couldn't wear a mask,\" he explained ruefully as Monty led\nhim home. \"But how could I know that he could hear me", "ement and concern she was not to be appeased.\n\n\"Does it occur to you, Monty,\" she said, with a gentle coldness that\nwas infinitely worse than heat, \"that you have been carrying things\nwith a pretty high hand? Where did you acquire the right to interfere\nwith my privileges? You seem to think that I am not to speak to any man\nbut you.\"\n\n\"O, come now, Babs,\" retorted Monty, \"I've not been quite as\nunreasonable as that. And you know yourself that Grimes is the worst" ], [ ".\n\nOne of Monty's most extraordinary financial feats grew out of the\npurchase of a $14,000 automobile. He blandly admitted to \"Nopper\"\nHarrison and the two secretaries that he intended to use it to practice\nwith only, and that as soon as he learned how to run an \"auto\" as it\nshould be run he expected to buy a good, sensible, durable machine for\n$7,000.\n\nHis staff officers frequently put their heads together to devise ways\nand means of curbing Monty's", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", "expected. He laughingly denounced as untrue the stories that had\ncome to her from outside sources. And before his convincing assertions\nthat reports were ridiculously exaggerated, the troubled expression in\nthe girl's eyes disappeared.\n\n\"I must seem a fool,\" groaned Monty, as he left the house after one of\nthese explanatory trials, \"but what will she think of me toward the end\nof the year when I am really in harness?\" He found it hard to control\nthe desire to be straight with Peggy and tell her the story of his mad\nr", "0,000.00\n\nRespectfully submitted,\n\nMONTGOMERY BREWSTER.\n\n\n\"It's rather broad, you see, gentlemen, but there are receipts for\nevery dollar, barring some trifling incidentals. He may think I\ndissipated the fortune, but I defy him or any one else to prove that I\nhave not had my money's worth. To tell you the truth, it has seemed\nlike a hundred million. If any one should tell you that it is an easy\nmatter to", "\nfifteen thousand dollars for the purpose and extracted a solemn promise\nthat the entire amount would be used.\n\n\"But it won't cost half of this,\" protested Bragdon.\n\n\"You will have to give these people a good time during the week\nand--well--you have promised that I shall never see another penny of\nit. Some day you'll know why I do this,\" and Monty felt easier when his\nfriend agreed to abide by his wishes.\n\nHe discharged the \"Flitter's\" crew, with five months' pay and", "cost Brewster at least $125,000. The \"Little Sons\" looked at one\nanother in consternation, while Brewster's indifference expressed\nitself in an unflattering comment upon his friend's vulgarity. \"Good\nLord, Nopper,\" he added, \"you would speculate about the price of gloves\nfor your wedding.\"\n\nHarrison resented the taunt. \"It would be much less vulgar to do that,\nMonty, saving your presence, than to force your millions down every\none's", "345,000 in round numbers. The investments, you see,\nare gilt-edged. There is not a bad penny in all those millions.\"\n\n\"Well, it is rather staggering, isn't it?\" said Montgomery, passing his\nhand over his forehead. He was beginning to comprehend.\n\n\"In more ways than one. What are you going to do about it?\"\n\n\"Do about it?\" in surprise. \"Why, it's mine, isn't it?\"\n\n\"It is not yours until next September,\" the lawyer quietly said", "than done his duty. He used no small part of his income on the flowers,\nbut in this case his mission was almost forgotten in his love for\nBarbara.\n\nMonty's attitude was not due to any wanting of his affection, but to\nthe very unromantic business in which he was engaged. It seemed to him\nthat, plan as he might, he could not devise fresh ways and means to\nearn $16,000 a day. He was still comfortably ahead in the race, but a\nfamine in opportunities was not far remote. Ten big dinner parties", "instead there\nwas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and the\nworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of one\nwho has perfect control of his wits.\n\n\"Is it all--gone, Monty?\" she asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Here is the residue of my estate,\" he said, opening his purse with\nsteady fingers. \"I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The million\nis gone and my wings are clipped.\" Her face was white, her heart was in\nthe clutch", ".\n\n\"You can't afford it, Monty,\" exploded Joe, fearlessly. \"Peggy is too\ngood a girl. By Gad, it isn't fair to her.\"\n\n\"We have agreed to begin life to-morrow. Wait and see the result. I\nthink it will surprise you. Incidentally it is up to me to get the\nlicense to-day and to engage a minister's services. It's going to be\nquiet, you know. Joe, you can be my best man if you like, and, Gardie,\n", "iness to sail by the tenth of April.\n\n\"I think you are going in too heavily, Monty,\" protested Harrison,\ntwisting his fingers nervously. \"I can't for my life figure how you can\nget out for less than a fortune, if we do everything you have in mind.\nWouldn't it be better to pull up a bit? This looks like sheer madness.\nYou won't have a dollar, Monty--honestly you won't.\"\n\n\"It's not in me to save money, Nopper, but if you can", "wish I had taken your advice,\" he said gloomily.\n\n\"And missed the fortune you have won? How foolish of you, Monty! You\nwere a loser by several thousand dollars then,\" she objected with\nwhimsical inconsistency.\n\n\"But, Peggy,\" he said quietly, looking deep into her eyes, \"it would\nhave won me your respect.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nFAIRYLAND\n\n\nMonty's situation was desperate. Only a little more than six thousand\ndollars had been spent on the car", "yet quite\nout of the world. The place was nearly empty at the time, and the\nproprietor wept tears of joy when Monty engaged for his party the\nentire first floor of the house with balconies overlooking the blue\nMediterranean and a separate dining-room and salon. Extra servants were\nsummoned, and the Brewster livery was soon a familiar sight about the\nvillage. The protests of Peggy and the others were only silenced when\nMonty threatened to rent a villa and go to housekeeping.\n\nThe town quickly took on the", "things your\nown way every minute. In another month you will be quite spoiled.\nAnything to prevent that. My duty is plain. Even if I have to use\nheroic measures, you dine with me to-morrow.\"\n\nMonty recognized defeat when he met it, and graciously accepted her\nvery kind invitation. The next moment they drew up at the opera house\nand were ushered in with a deference accorded only to wealth. The\nsplendor of the effect was overpowering to Brewster as well as to his\nbewildered guests. Aladdin", "my business if she expects me to compete.\nWhat pleasure shall I get out of the seven millions if I lose her? I\ncan't afford to take chances. That Duke won't have seven millions next\nSeptember, it's true, but he'll have a prodigious argument against me,\nabout the twenty-first or second.\"\n\nThen a brilliant thought occurred to him which caused him to ring for a\nmessenger-boy with such a show of impatience that Rawles stood aghast.\nThe telegram which Monty wrote was as follows:\n\n\nS", "decorate certain rooms according to a\nplan suggested by the tenant. The rising young artist, in a great\nflurry of excitement, agreed to do the work for $500, and then blushed\nlike a schoolgirl when he was informed by the practical Brewster that\nthe paints and material for one room alone would cost twice as much.\n\n\"Petty, you have no more idea of business than a goat,\" criticised\nMontgomery, and Paul lowered his head in humble confession. \"That man\nwho calcimines your studio could figure on a piece of work with", "of his\ncourse.\n\n\"Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.\"\n\n\"When I asked you to marry me,\" he continued gravely, \"it was with the\nthought that I could give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a\nfortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?\"\n\n\"No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I\nexpected, and I wanted you so much", "nival and no opportunity of\nannihilating the roulette winnings seemed to offer itself. His\nexperience at Monte Carlo did not encourage him to try again, and\nPeggy's attitude toward the place was distinctly antagonistic. The\nRiviera presenting no new opportunities for extravagance, it became\nnecessary to seek other worlds.\n\n\"I never before understood the real meaning of the phrase 'tight\nmoney,'\" thought Monty. \"Lord, if it would only loosen a bit and stay\nloosened.\" Something must be done, he", "they\nwould tell another story, and quite as emphatically.\n\n\"The worst of it, Monty, is that you are the next thing to being a poor\nman,\" groaned Gardner. \"I've done my best to economize for you here at\nhome, as you'll see by these figures, but nothing could possibly\nbalance the extravagances of this voyage. They are simply appalling.\"\n\nWith the condemnation of his friends ringing in his troubled brain,\nwith the sneers of acquaintances to distress his pride, with the jib", "what I have.\"\n\n\"Mr. Jones is very far from what you'd call puritanical, but he is\nintensely practical and clear-headed. He will undoubtedly require you\nto keep an expense account and to show some sort of receipt for every\ndollar you disburse.\"\n\n\"Good Lord! Itemize?\"\n\n\"In a general way, I presume.\"\n\n\"I'll have to employ an army of spendthrifts to devise ways and means\nfor profligacy.\"\n\n\"You forget the item which restrains you from" ], [ "instead there\nwas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and the\nworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of one\nwho has perfect control of his wits.\n\n\"Is it all--gone, Monty?\" she asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Here is the residue of my estate,\" he said, opening his purse with\nsteady fingers. \"I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The million\nis gone and my wings are clipped.\" Her face was white, her heart was in\nthe clutch", "345,000 in round numbers. The investments, you see,\nare gilt-edged. There is not a bad penny in all those millions.\"\n\n\"Well, it is rather staggering, isn't it?\" said Montgomery, passing his\nhand over his forehead. He was beginning to comprehend.\n\n\"In more ways than one. What are you going to do about it?\"\n\n\"Do about it?\" in surprise. \"Why, it's mine, isn't it?\"\n\n\"It is not yours until next September,\" the lawyer quietly said", "Peggy? Do you suppose there is something that I\ncould do? You know what I mean--something that some one else would not\ndo a thousand times better.\"\n\nBut Peggy, to whom this chastened mood in Monty was infinitely\npathetic, would not let him talk. She soothed him and cheered him and\ntouched his hair with her cool hands. And then she left him to think\nand brood and dream.\n\nIt was many days before his turbulent mind drifted to the subject of\nmoney, but suddenly he found himself hoping that the surge", "of his\ncourse.\n\n\"Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.\"\n\n\"When I asked you to marry me,\" he continued gravely, \"it was with the\nthought that I could give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a\nfortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?\"\n\n\"No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I\nexpected, and I wanted you so much", "\nagain.\"\n\n\"I remind myself more of the fatted calf.\"\n\nHis first self-consciousness had gone.\n\n\"I thought of that, but I didn't dare say it,\" she laughed. \"One must\nbe respectful to rich relatives.\"\n\n\"Hang your rich relatives, Peggy; if I thought that this money would\nmake any difference I would give it up this minute.\"\n\n\"Nonsense, Monty,\" she said. \"How could it make a difference? But you\nmust admit it is rather startling. The friend of our youth leaves", "realized, to earn his living.\nPerhaps the role of the princely profligate would be easier in Italy\nthan anywhere else. He studied the outlook from every point of view,\nbut there were moments when it seemed hopeless. Baedeker was\nprovokingly barren of suggestions for extravagance and Monty grew\nimpatient of the book's small economies. Noticing some chapters on the\nItalian lakes, in an inspired moment he remembered that Pettingill had\nonce lost his heart to a villa on the Lake of Como. Instantly a", "expected. He laughingly denounced as untrue the stories that had\ncome to her from outside sources. And before his convincing assertions\nthat reports were ridiculously exaggerated, the troubled expression in\nthe girl's eyes disappeared.\n\n\"I must seem a fool,\" groaned Monty, as he left the house after one of\nthese explanatory trials, \"but what will she think of me toward the end\nof the year when I am really in harness?\" He found it hard to control\nthe desire to be straight with Peggy and tell her the story of his mad\nr", "turn over\nto Montgomery Brewster, the day after the will was probated, securities\nto the amount of one million dollars, provided for in clause four of\nthe instrument. And so it was that on the 26th of September young Mr.\nBrewster had an unconditional fortune thrust upon him, weighted only\nwith the suggestion of crepe that clung to it.\n\nSince his grandfather's death he had been staying at the gloomy old\nBrewster house in Fifth Avenue, paying but two or three hurried visits\nto the rooms at Mrs. Gray's", ".\"\nOlder women were interested in him because his father and mother had\nmade a romantic runaway match, which was the talk of the town in the\nseventies, and had never been forgiven. Worldly women were interested\nin him because he was the only grandson of Edwin Peter Brewster, who\nwas many times a millionaire, and Monty was fairly certain to be his\nheir--barring an absent-minded gift to charity. Younger women were\ninterested for a much more obvious and simple reason: they liked him.\nMen also took to Monty because he was", "than done his duty. He used no small part of his income on the flowers,\nbut in this case his mission was almost forgotten in his love for\nBarbara.\n\nMonty's attitude was not due to any wanting of his affection, but to\nthe very unromantic business in which he was engaged. It seemed to him\nthat, plan as he might, he could not devise fresh ways and means to\nearn $16,000 a day. He was still comfortably ahead in the race, but a\nfamine in opportunities was not far remote. Ten big dinner parties", "he will be a pauper within a\nyear.\"\n\n\"Yet they charitably help him to spend his money. And I have noticed\nthat even worldly mammas find him eligible.\" The comment was not\nwithout its caustic side.\n\n\"That was months ago, my dear,\" protested Barbara, calmly. \"When he\nspoke to me--he told me it would be impossible for him to marry within\na year. And don't you see that a year may make him an abject beggar?\"\n\n\"Naturally anything is preferable to a", "nival and no opportunity of\nannihilating the roulette winnings seemed to offer itself. His\nexperience at Monte Carlo did not encourage him to try again, and\nPeggy's attitude toward the place was distinctly antagonistic. The\nRiviera presenting no new opportunities for extravagance, it became\nnecessary to seek other worlds.\n\n\"I never before understood the real meaning of the phrase 'tight\nmoney,'\" thought Monty. \"Lord, if it would only loosen a bit and stay\nloosened.\" Something must be done, he", "the heir\nto be absolutely penniless upon the twenty-sixth anniversary of his\nbirth, September 23d.\n\nThe instrument went into detail in respect to this supreme condition.\nIt set forth that Montgomery Brewster was to have no other worldly\npossession than the clothes which covered him on the September day\nnamed. He was to begin that day without a penny to his name, without a\nsingle article of jewelry, furniture or finance that he could call his\nown or could thereafter reclaim. At nine o'clock, New York time, on the", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "you really must not.\"\n\n\"Why, what's mine is yours--\" he began.\n\n\"I know you are generous, Monty, and I know you have a heart. You want\nus to--to take some of your money,\"--it was not easy to say it, and as\nfor Monty, he could only look at the floor. \"We cannot, Monty,\ndear,--you must never speak of it again. Mamma and I had a feeling that\nyou would do it. But don't you see,--even from you it is an offer of", "things your\nown way every minute. In another month you will be quite spoiled.\nAnything to prevent that. My duty is plain. Even if I have to use\nheroic measures, you dine with me to-morrow.\"\n\nMonty recognized defeat when he met it, and graciously accepted her\nvery kind invitation. The next moment they drew up at the opera house\nand were ushered in with a deference accorded only to wealth. The\nsplendor of the effect was overpowering to Brewster as well as to his\nbewildered guests. Aladdin", "\ncompanionship of Peggy and Mrs. Gray.\n\n\"How soon can I get back to work, Doctor?\" demanded Monty, the day\nbefore the special train was to carry him south. He was beginning to\nsee the dark side of this enforced idleness. His blood again was\ntingling with the desire to be back in the harness of a spendthrift.\n\n\"To work?\" laughed the physician. \"And what is your occupation, pray?\"\n\n\"Making other people rich,\" responded Brewster, soberly.\n\n\"Well, aren't you satisfied", "0,000.00\n\nRespectfully submitted,\n\nMONTGOMERY BREWSTER.\n\n\n\"It's rather broad, you see, gentlemen, but there are receipts for\nevery dollar, barring some trifling incidentals. He may think I\ndissipated the fortune, but I defy him or any one else to prove that I\nhave not had my money's worth. To tell you the truth, it has seemed\nlike a hundred million. If any one should tell you that it is an easy\nmatter to", "into a\nmillion or two. He had \"realized,\" as Oliver Harrison would have put\nit. Two days after his grandfather's funeral a final will and testament\nwas read, and, as was expected, the old banker atoned for the hardships\nRobert Brewster and his wife had endured by bequeathing one million\ndollars to their son Montgomery. It was his without a restriction,\nwithout an admonition, without an incumbrance. There was not a\nsuggestion as to how it should be handled by the heir. The", "they\nwould tell another story, and quite as emphatically.\n\n\"The worst of it, Monty, is that you are the next thing to being a poor\nman,\" groaned Gardner. \"I've done my best to economize for you here at\nhome, as you'll see by these figures, but nothing could possibly\nbalance the extravagances of this voyage. They are simply appalling.\"\n\nWith the condemnation of his friends ringing in his troubled brain,\nwith the sneers of acquaintances to distress his pride, with the jib" ], [ "0,000.00\n\nRespectfully submitted,\n\nMONTGOMERY BREWSTER.\n\n\n\"It's rather broad, you see, gentlemen, but there are receipts for\nevery dollar, barring some trifling incidentals. He may think I\ndissipated the fortune, but I defy him or any one else to prove that I\nhave not had my money's worth. To tell you the truth, it has seemed\nlike a hundred million. If any one should tell you that it is an easy\nmatter to", "instead there\nwas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and the\nworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of one\nwho has perfect control of his wits.\n\n\"Is it all--gone, Monty?\" she asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Here is the residue of my estate,\" he said, opening his purse with\nsteady fingers. \"I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The million\nis gone and my wings are clipped.\" Her face was white, her heart was in\nthe clutch", "rid of my grandfather's million in short order.\" Brewster's voice rang\ntrue now. The zest of life was coming back.\n\nMr. Grant leaned forward slowly and his intent, penetrating gaze served\nas a check to the young fellow's enthusiasm.\n\n\"I admire and approve the sagacity which urges you to exchange a paltry\nmillion for a fortune, but it seems to me that you are forgetting the\nconditions,\" he said, slowly. \"Has it occurred to you that it will be\nno easy task to spend a million dollars without in some way", "into a\nmillion or two. He had \"realized,\" as Oliver Harrison would have put\nit. Two days after his grandfather's funeral a final will and testament\nwas read, and, as was expected, the old banker atoned for the hardships\nRobert Brewster and his wife had endured by bequeathing one million\ndollars to their son Montgomery. It was his without a restriction,\nwithout an admonition, without an incumbrance. There was not a\nsuggestion as to how it should be handled by the heir. The", "accept what is already yours. I understand that\nthe money has been paid to you by Mr. Buskirk. You have a million\ndollars, Mr. Brewster, and it cannot be denied.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" agreed Montgomery, dejectedly. \"Really, Mr. Grant,\nthis proposition is too much for me. If you aren't required to give an\nimmediate answer, I want to think it over. It sounds like a dream.\"\n\n\"It is no dream, Mr. Brewster,\" smiled the lawyer. \"You are face to\nface with", "wish I had taken your advice,\" he said gloomily.\n\n\"And missed the fortune you have won? How foolish of you, Monty! You\nwere a loser by several thousand dollars then,\" she objected with\nwhimsical inconsistency.\n\n\"But, Peggy,\" he said quietly, looking deep into her eyes, \"it would\nhave won me your respect.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nFAIRYLAND\n\n\nMonty's situation was desperate. Only a little more than six thousand\ndollars had been spent on the car", "\nlived on Fifth Avenue. Until long after midnight he smoked and\ncalculated and dreamed. For the first time the immensity of that\nmillion thrust itself upon him. If on that very day, October the first,\nhe were to begin the task of spending it he would have but three\nhundred and fifty-seven days in which to accomplish the end. Taking the\nround sum of one million dollars as a basis, it was an easy matter to\ncalculate his average daily disbursement. The situation did not look so\nutterly impossible until he held up the little sheet of", "345,000 in round numbers. The investments, you see,\nare gilt-edged. There is not a bad penny in all those millions.\"\n\n\"Well, it is rather staggering, isn't it?\" said Montgomery, passing his\nhand over his forehead. He was beginning to comprehend.\n\n\"In more ways than one. What are you going to do about it?\"\n\n\"Do about it?\" in surprise. \"Why, it's mine, isn't it?\"\n\n\"It is not yours until next September,\" the lawyer quietly said", "armly, \"now you have a chance to show what you can do. You have a\nfortune and, with judgment, you ought to be able to triple it. If I can\nhelp you in any way, come and see me.\"\n\nMonty thanked him.\n\n\"You'll be bored to death by the raft of people who have ways to spend\nyour money,\" continued the Colonel. \"Don't listen to any of them. Take\nyour time. You'll have a new chance to make money every day of your\nlife, so go slowly. I'd have", "than done his duty. He used no small part of his income on the flowers,\nbut in this case his mission was almost forgotten in his love for\nBarbara.\n\nMonty's attitude was not due to any wanting of his affection, but to\nthe very unromantic business in which he was engaged. It seemed to him\nthat, plan as he might, he could not devise fresh ways and means to\nearn $16,000 a day. He was still comfortably ahead in the race, but a\nfamine in opportunities was not far remote. Ten big dinner parties", ".\n\n\"Well, I fancy I can wait,\" said Brewster with a smile that cleared the\nair.\n\n\"But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million. Do\nyou forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?\"\n\n\"But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?\" asked Mr. Grant, mildly.\n\n\"Why, by the simple process of destruction. Don't you suppose I can get\nrid of a million", "later he\nadded, \"Damn these family feuds! Why couldn't Uncle James have relented\na bit? He brings endless trouble on my innocent head, just because of a\nrow before I was born.\"\n\n\"He was a strange man. As a rule, one does not carry grudges quite so\nfar. But that is neither here nor there. His will is law in this case.\"\n\n\"Suppose I succeed in spending all but a thousand dollars before the\n23d of next September! I'd lose the seven millions and be the next\nthing to a pau", "Brewster.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Montgomery, somewhat puzzled. \"But why do you say that I\nam both fortunate and unfortunate?\"\n\n\"The situation is so remarkable that you'll consider that a mild way of\nputting it when you've heard everything. I think you were told, in our\nnote of yesterday, that you are the sole heir. Well, it may surprise\nyou to learn that James Sedgwick died possessed of an estate valued at\nalmost seven million dollars.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster sat like one petrified, staring blankly at the", "\nfifteen thousand dollars for the purpose and extracted a solemn promise\nthat the entire amount would be used.\n\n\"But it won't cost half of this,\" protested Bragdon.\n\n\"You will have to give these people a good time during the week\nand--well--you have promised that I shall never see another penny of\nit. Some day you'll know why I do this,\" and Monty felt easier when his\nfriend agreed to abide by his wishes.\n\nHe discharged the \"Flitter's\" crew, with five months' pay and", "it, do you? Am I as bad as that?\"\n\nIt was a moment for dominance, and he missed it. His gentleness left\nher cold.\n\n\"Monty,\" she exclaimed irritably, \"you are terribly exasperating. Do\nmake up your mind that you and your million are not the only things in\nthe world.\"\n\nHis blood was up now, but it flung him away from her.\n\n\"Some day, perhaps, you'll find out that there is not much besides. I\nam just a little too big, for one thing,", "going it,\" Monty resolved to redeem\nhimself in the eyes of his critics. He would show them that his brain\nwas not wholly given over to frivolity.\n\nWith this project in mind he decided to cause a little excitement in\nWall Street. For some days he stealthily watched the stock market and\nplied his friends with questions about values. Constant reading and\nobservation finally convinced him that Lumber and Fuel Common was the\none stock in which he could safely plunge. Casting aside all\napprehension, so far as Swearengen Jones was", "paper and\nruefully contemplated the result of that simple problem in mathematics.\n\nIt meant an average daily expenditure of $2,801.12 for nearly a year,\nand even then there would be sixteen cents left over, for, in proving\nthe result of his rough sum in division, he could account for but\n$999,999.84. Then it occurred to him that his money would be drawing\ninterest at the bank.\n\n\"But for each day's $2,801.12, I am getting seven times", "The\npackage contained receipts--thousands upon thousands of them--for the\ndollars he had spent in less than a year. They were there for the\ninspection of Swearengen Jones, faithfully and honorably kept--as if\nthe old westerner would go over in detail the countless documents.\n\nHe had the accounts balanced up to the hour. On the long sheet lay the\nrecord of his ruthlessness, the epitaph of a million. In his pocket was\nexactly $79.08. This was to last him for less than forty-", ". They would say, 'There are Monty Brewster and Margaret Gray.\nSpending his last few dollars on her.' You wouldn't have them think\nthat?\"\n\nHe saw the justice in her protest. \"A quiet little dinner in some out\nof the way place would be joyous,\" she added, persuasively.\n\n\"You're right, Peggy, you're always right. You see, I'm so used to\nspending money by the handful that I don't know how to do it any other\nway. I believe I'll let you carry the", "my business if she expects me to compete.\nWhat pleasure shall I get out of the seven millions if I lose her? I\ncan't afford to take chances. That Duke won't have seven millions next\nSeptember, it's true, but he'll have a prodigious argument against me,\nabout the twenty-first or second.\"\n\nThen a brilliant thought occurred to him which caused him to ring for a\nmessenger-boy with such a show of impatience that Rawles stood aghast.\nThe telegram which Monty wrote was as follows:\n\n\nS" ], [ "to the hundreds of other\ndepositors, and for the first time he appreciated what his money could\naccomplish. Thinking that his presence might give confidence to the\nother depositors and stop the run he went over to the bank with\nHarrison and Bragdon. The tellers were handing out thousands of dollars\nto the eager depositors. His friends advised him strongly to withdraw\nbefore it was too late, but Monty was obdurate. They set it down to his\ndesire to help Barbara's father and admired his nerve.\n\n\"I understand,", "going it,\" Monty resolved to redeem\nhimself in the eyes of his critics. He would show them that his brain\nwas not wholly given over to frivolity.\n\nWith this project in mind he decided to cause a little excitement in\nWall Street. For some days he stealthily watched the stock market and\nplied his friends with questions about values. Constant reading and\nobservation finally convinced him that Lumber and Fuel Common was the\none stock in which he could safely plunge. Casting aside all\napprehension, so far as Swearengen Jones was", "get out\nof your own accord.\"\n\nMonty acceded to the condition and offered odds on the proposition to\nthe others, but there were no takers.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he smiled grimly to himself. \"I can make a thousand\ndollars by staying here and I can't afford to escape.\"\n\nOn the third day of Monty's imprisonment the \"Flitter\" began to roll\nheavily. At first he gloated over the discomfort of his guards, who\nobviously did not like to stay below. \"Subway\" Smith", "nival and no opportunity of\nannihilating the roulette winnings seemed to offer itself. His\nexperience at Monte Carlo did not encourage him to try again, and\nPeggy's attitude toward the place was distinctly antagonistic. The\nRiviera presenting no new opportunities for extravagance, it became\nnecessary to seek other worlds.\n\n\"I never before understood the real meaning of the phrase 'tight\nmoney,'\" thought Monty. \"Lord, if it would only loosen a bit and stay\nloosened.\" Something must be done, he", "Monty,\" said Bragdon, and both he and Harrison went\namong the people carelessly asking one another if Brewster had come to\nwithdraw his money. \"No, he has over $200,000, and he's going to leave\nit,\" the other would say.\n\nEach excited group was visited in turn by the two men, but their\nassurance seemed to accomplish but little. These men and women were\nthere to save their fortunes; the situation was desperate.\n\nColonel Drew, outwardly calm and serene, but inwardly", "instead there\nwas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and the\nworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of one\nwho has perfect control of his wits.\n\n\"Is it all--gone, Monty?\" she asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Here is the residue of my estate,\" he said, opening his purse with\nsteady fingers. \"I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The million\nis gone and my wings are clipped.\" Her face was white, her heart was in\nthe clutch", "pull out a few\ndollars for yourself I shall not object.\"\n\n\"You told me that once before, Monty,\" said Harrison, as he walked to\nthe window. When he resolutely turned back again to Brewster his face\nwas white, but there was a look of determination around the mouth.\n\n\"Monty, I've got to give up this job,\" he said, huskily. Brewster\nlooked up quickly.\n\n\"What do you mean, Nopper?\"\n\n\"I've got to leave, that's all,\" said Harrison, standing", ".\n\nOne of Monty's most extraordinary financial feats grew out of the\npurchase of a $14,000 automobile. He blandly admitted to \"Nopper\"\nHarrison and the two secretaries that he intended to use it to practice\nwith only, and that as soon as he learned how to run an \"auto\" as it\nshould be run he expected to buy a good, sensible, durable machine for\n$7,000.\n\nHis staff officers frequently put their heads together to devise ways\nand means of curbing Monty's", "\"It was simple,\" said Monty. \"The guards deserted their post and left\nthe key behind.\"\n\n\"Then it is up to me to pay you a thousand dollars.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" protested Monty, taken aback. \"I did not escape of my own\naccord. I had help. The money is yours. And now that I am free,\" he\nadded quietly, \"let me say that this boat does not go to Boston.\"\n\n\"Just what I expected,\" cried Vanderpool.\n\n\"She's going straight to New York!\" declared Mont", "\nfifteen thousand dollars for the purpose and extracted a solemn promise\nthat the entire amount would be used.\n\n\"But it won't cost half of this,\" protested Bragdon.\n\n\"You will have to give these people a good time during the week\nand--well--you have promised that I shall never see another penny of\nit. Some day you'll know why I do this,\" and Monty felt easier when his\nfriend agreed to abide by his wishes.\n\nHe discharged the \"Flitter's\" crew, with five months' pay and", "? It's your money, but the drink won't be any the worse for that. We\nblowed most of it already, but here's what's left.\" Bill handed Monty a\nroll of bills.\n\n\"I'd a kept it if you'd made a fight,\" he continued, \"but it ain't\nsquare to keep it now.\"\n\nBrewster refused the money, but took back his watch.\n\n\"Keep it, Bill,\" he said, \"you need it more than I do. It's enough to\nset you up in some other", "stiff and\nstraight and looking over Brewster's head.\n\n\"Good Lord, Nopper, I can't have that. You must not desert the ship.\nWhat's the matter, old chap? You're as white as a ghost. What is it?\"\nMonty was standing now and his hands were on Harrison's shoulders, but\nbefore the intensity of his look, his friend's eyes fell helplessly.\n\n\"The truth is, Monty, I've taken some of your money and I've lost it.\nThat's the reason I--", "wish I had taken your advice,\" he said gloomily.\n\n\"And missed the fortune you have won? How foolish of you, Monty! You\nwere a loser by several thousand dollars then,\" she objected with\nwhimsical inconsistency.\n\n\"But, Peggy,\" he said quietly, looking deep into her eyes, \"it would\nhave won me your respect.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nFAIRYLAND\n\n\nMonty's situation was desperate. Only a little more than six thousand\ndollars had been spent on the car", "than done his duty. He used no small part of his income on the flowers,\nbut in this case his mission was almost forgotten in his love for\nBarbara.\n\nMonty's attitude was not due to any wanting of his affection, but to\nthe very unromantic business in which he was engaged. It seemed to him\nthat, plan as he might, he could not devise fresh ways and means to\nearn $16,000 a day. He was still comfortably ahead in the race, but a\nfamine in opportunities was not far remote. Ten big dinner parties", "drawing out your\ndeposit, but I want you to help us in this crucial moment.\" The Colonel\nlooked twenty years older and his voice shook perceptibly. Brewster's\npity went out to him in a flash.\n\n\"What can I do, Colonel Drew?\" he cried. \"I'll not take my money out,\nbut I don't know how I can be of further assistance to you. Command me,\nsir.\"\n\n\"You can restore absolute confidence, Monty, my dear boy, by increasing\nyour deposits in our bank,\" said the", "Peggy? Do you suppose there is something that I\ncould do? You know what I mean--something that some one else would not\ndo a thousand times better.\"\n\nBut Peggy, to whom this chastened mood in Monty was infinitely\npathetic, would not let him talk. She soothed him and cheered him and\ntouched his hair with her cool hands. And then she left him to think\nand brood and dream.\n\nIt was many days before his turbulent mind drifted to the subject of\nmoney, but suddenly he found himself hoping that the surge", "my business if she expects me to compete.\nWhat pleasure shall I get out of the seven millions if I lose her? I\ncan't afford to take chances. That Duke won't have seven millions next\nSeptember, it's true, but he'll have a prodigious argument against me,\nabout the twenty-first or second.\"\n\nThen a brilliant thought occurred to him which caused him to ring for a\nmessenger-boy with such a show of impatience that Rawles stood aghast.\nThe telegram which Monty wrote was as follows:\n\n\nS", "iness to sail by the tenth of April.\n\n\"I think you are going in too heavily, Monty,\" protested Harrison,\ntwisting his fingers nervously. \"I can't for my life figure how you can\nget out for less than a fortune, if we do everything you have in mind.\nWouldn't it be better to pull up a bit? This looks like sheer madness.\nYou won't have a dollar, Monty--honestly you won't.\"\n\n\"It's not in me to save money, Nopper, but if you can", "He came forward to meet him and his greeting almost carried\nMonty off his feet.\n\n\"How did you do it, my boy?\" cried the Colonel. \"She's off a point or\ntwo now, I believe, but half an hour ago she was booming. Gad, I never\nheard of anything more spectacular!\"\n\nMonty's heart was in his mouth as he rushed over to the ticker. It did\nnot take him long to grasp the immensity of the disaster. Gardner had\nbought in at 108 3/4, and that", "You're a wonder, Monty! I'll see you after the close. How the devil\ndid you do it?\" shouted Gardner.\n\n\"What's the price now?\" asked Brewster.\n\n\"One thirteen and three-fourths, and going up all the time. Hooray!\"\n\n\"Do you think she'll go down again?\" demanded Brewster.\n\n\"Not if I can help it.\"\n\n\"Very well, then, go and sell out,\" roared Brewster.\n\n\"But she's going up like--\"\n\n\"" ], [ "incredulity, then joy. He\nthrew the letter to Bragdon, clasped Peggy in his arms spasmodically,\nand then, releasing her, dashed for the hall like one bereft of reason.\n\n\"It's Nopper Harrison!\" he cried, and a moment later the tall visitor\nwas dragged into the circle. \"Nopper\" was quite overcome by the\nheartiness of his welcome.\n\n\"You are an angel, Nopper, God bless you!\" said Monty, with convincing\nemphasis. \"Joe, read that letter al", "from the\ndescription?\"\n\n\"Not at all. Can't imagine who he is.\"\n\n\"Monty,\" she said, after a moment's painful reflection, \"he--he\ncouldn't have been a--\"\n\n\"I know what you mean. An officer sent up to attach my belongings or\nsomething of the sort. No, dearest; I give you my word of honor I do\nnot owe a dollar in the world.\" Then he recalled his peculiar\nindebtedness to Bragdon and Gardner. \"Except one or two very small\npersonal obligations", "carriage was at the door before another word was\nuttered. But Monty called to the coachman to drive just once around the\nblock.\n\n\"Good night, my darling,\" he said when they reached home. \"Sleep till\neight o'clock if you like. There is nothing now in the way of having\nthe wedding at nine, instead of at seven. In fact, I have a reason for\nwanting my whole fortune to come to me then. You will be all that I\nhave in the world, child, but I am the happiest man alive.\"\n\nIn his room", "as a parting thrust before she walked away.\n\n\"There must be something more than we know about in Monty's\nextravagance,\" said Mrs. Dan. \"He isn't the kind of man to squander his\nlast penny without having something left to show for it. There must be\na method in his madness.\"\n\n\"He has done it for us,\" said Peggy. \"He has devoted himself all along\nto giving us a good time and now we are showing our gratitude.\"\n\nFurther discussion was prevented by the appearance of the conspiring\n", "had a liking for Monty, and\nBarbara's \"society judgments,\" as he called them, had no weight with\nhim. When he found himself confronted with Brewster in the elevator,\nthe old warmth revived and the old hope that the quarrel might have an\nend. His greeting was cheery.\n\n\"You have not forgotten, Brewster,\" he said, as they shook hands, \"that\nyou have a dollar or two with us?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Monty, \"not exactly. And I shall be calling upon you for\nsome of it", "invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As\nhe came aboard the \"Flitter,\" Monty believed the invitation was more\nthan justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so\nmuch of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell\ndesperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the\ncomposure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for\nBrewster the next day and told him to \"send her around\" and he would\nmarry her. Monty's", "ly to me, and\nwhat have I ever done for them? Nothing. Now that I can afford it, I am\ngoing to return some of those favors and square myself. Doesn't it\nsound reasonable?\"\n\nAnd so preparations for Monty's dinner went on. In addition to what he\ncalled his \"efficient corps of gentlemanly aids\" he had secured the\nservices of Mrs. Dan DeMille as \"social mentor and utility chaperon.\"\nMrs. DeMille was known in the papers as the leader of the fast younger\nmarried set. She", "\n\"That is?\"\n\n\"Barbara must never know of this.\" The Colonel's gasp of astonishment\nwas cut short as Monty continued. \"Promise that she shall never know.\"\n\n\"I don't understand, but if it is your wish I promise.\"\n\nInside of half an hour's time several hundred thousand came to the\nrelief of the struggling bank, and the man who had come to watch the\nrun with curious eyes turned out to be its savior. His money won the\nday for the Bank of Manhattan Island. When the happy president and\ndirectors", "from one side just as Brewster entered\nfrom the other. Stupefaction halted them. After the first pulseless\nmoment of horror, exclamations of dismay went up on all sides. For\nMonty Brewster the first sensation of regret was followed by a\ndiabolical sense of joy.\n\n\"Thank the Lord!\" he said softly in the hush.\n\nThe look of surprise he encountered in the faces of his guests brought\nhim up with a jerk.\n\n\"That it didn't happen while we were dining,\" he added with serene\nthankfulness", "instead there\nwas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and the\nworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of one\nwho has perfect control of his wits.\n\n\"Is it all--gone, Monty?\" she asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Here is the residue of my estate,\" he said, opening his purse with\nsteady fingers. \"I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The million\nis gone and my wings are clipped.\" Her face was white, her heart was in\nthe clutch", "to the hundreds of other\ndepositors, and for the first time he appreciated what his money could\naccomplish. Thinking that his presence might give confidence to the\nother depositors and stop the run he went over to the bank with\nHarrison and Bragdon. The tellers were handing out thousands of dollars\nto the eager depositors. His friends advised him strongly to withdraw\nbefore it was too late, but Monty was obdurate. They set it down to his\ndesire to help Barbara's father and admired his nerve.\n\n\"I understand,", "Monty,\" she said.\n\n\"What are you doing in there?\" There was a long pause, and then came\nthe pitiful little wail: \"I am unpacking, please, sir.\"\n\nThat night Brewster entertained on board the yacht, several resident\nFrench and English acquaintances being the guests of honor. The story\nof the day was told by Mrs. Dan DeMille, commissioned especially for\nthe duty. She painted the scene so vividly that the guests laughed with\njoy over the discomfiture of the sheik. Peggy and Brewster found", "Peggy? Do you suppose there is something that I\ncould do? You know what I mean--something that some one else would not\ndo a thousand times better.\"\n\nBut Peggy, to whom this chastened mood in Monty was infinitely\npathetic, would not let him talk. She soothed him and cheered him and\ntouched his hair with her cool hands. And then she left him to think\nand brood and dream.\n\nIt was many days before his turbulent mind drifted to the subject of\nmoney, but suddenly he found himself hoping that the surge", "somewhere, and there was no\ntenderness in the tones. For an instant Monty was dazed and bewildered,\nbut in the next he saw two shadowy figures walking beside him. \"Stop\nwhere you are, young fellow,\" was the next command, and he stopped\nshort. He was in a mood to fight, but the sight of a revolver made him\nthink again. Monty was not a coward, neither was he a fool. He was\nquick to see that a struggle would be madness.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he demanded as coolly as his", "going it,\" Monty resolved to redeem\nhimself in the eyes of his critics. He would show them that his brain\nwas not wholly given over to frivolity.\n\nWith this project in mind he decided to cause a little excitement in\nWall Street. For some days he stealthily watched the stock market and\nplied his friends with questions about values. Constant reading and\nobservation finally convinced him that Lumber and Fuel Common was the\none stock in which he could safely plunge. Casting aside all\napprehension, so far as Swearengen Jones was", "Mille,\nclutching Bragdon by the arm.\n\n\"And look at Monty! He's become a new man in the last five minutes,\"\nadded Joe. \"Look at the glow in his cheeks! By the eternal, he's\nbeginning to look as he did a year ago.\"\n\nA clock chimed the hour of nine.\n\n\"The man who was here yesterday is in the hall to see Mr. Brewster,\"\nsaid the maid, a few minutes after the minister had uttered the words\nthat gave Peggy a new name. There was a", "tingill's a year later handed him a telegram before twelve o'clock.\n\n\"Congratulations are coming in, old man,\" said DeMille, as Monty looked\nfearfully at the little envelope the boy had given him.\n\n\"Many happy returns of the day,\" suggested Bragdon. \"By Jove, it's\nsensible of you to get married on your birthday, Monty. It saves time\nand expense to your friends.\"\n\n\"Read it aloud,\" said \"Subway\" Smith.\n\n\"Two to one it's", "\n\"Oh, don't worry about him,\" said \"Subway,\" easily; \"Monty's at least a\ngood sportsman. He won't complain, whatever happens. He'll accept the\nreckoning and pay the piper.\"\n\nIt was only toward the end of the evening that Monty found his reward\nin a moment with Barbara Drew. He stood before her, squaring his\nshoulders belligerently to keep away intruders, and she smiled up at\nhim in that bewildering fashion of hers. But it was only for an\ninstant, and", "of his\ncourse.\n\n\"Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.\"\n\n\"When I asked you to marry me,\" he continued gravely, \"it was with the\nthought that I could give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a\nfortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?\"\n\n\"No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I\nexpected, and I wanted you so much", ".\"\n\n\"Speech! Speech!\" echoed everywhere. Men settled into their places.\n\n\"Mr. Montgomery Brewster,\" Pettingill introduced.\n\nAgain the bell rang--long and loud.\n\n\"Reinforcements. I'll bet there's a patrol in the street,\" remarked\nOliver Harrison.\n\n\"If it's only the police, let them in,\" said Pettingill. \"I thought it\nwas a creditor.\"\n\nThe waiter opened the door.\n\n\"Some one to see Mr. Brewster, sir,\" he" ], [ "OF MARRIAGE\n\n\nThe summer is scarcely a good time to visit Egypt, but Monty and his\nguests had a desire to see even a little of the northern coast of\nAfrica. It was decided, therefore, that after Athens, the \"Flitter\"\nshould go south. The yacht had met them at Naples after the automobile\nprocession,--a kind of triumphal progress,--was disbanded in Florence,\nand they had taken a hurried survey of Rome. By the middle of July the\nparty was leaving the heat of Egypt and finding it not", "Dan, \"what if your guests would rather go home.\"\n\n\"Nonsense; you were asked for a five months' cruise. Besides, think of\ngetting home in the middle of August, with every one away. It would be\nlike going to Philadelphia.\"\n\nBrave as he was in the presence of his friends, in the privacy of his\nstateroom Monty gave way to the depression that was bearing down upon\nhim. It was the hardest task of his life to go on with his scheme in\nthe face of opposition. He knew that every man and woman on board was\n", "of his money on this cruise. Do\nyou understand our position, Captain Perry?\"\n\n\"Fully. I wish with all my soul that I could help you and him. My hands\nare tied by contract, however, much as I regret it at this moment.\"\n\n\"How does the crew feel about this additional trip, captain?\" asked\nDeMille.\n\n\"They shipped for five months and will receive five months' pay. The\nmen have been handsomely treated and they will stick to Mr. Brewster to\nthe end,\" said the captain.\n\n\"There is no chance for", "landing in New York and the separation which followed were not\nentirely merry. Every discomfort was forgotten and the travelers only\nknew that the most wonderful cruise since that of the ark had come to\nan end. There was not one who would not have been glad to begin it\nagain the next day.\n\nImmediately after the landing Brewster and Gardner were busy with the\ndetails of settlement. After clearing up all of the obligations arising\nfrom the cruise, they felt the appropriateness of a season of\nreflection. It was a difficult moment--a moment when und", "week the \"Flitter\"\ntossed about absolutely unable to make headway. The first of August had\narrived and Monty himself was beginning to be nervous. With the fatal\nday not quite two months away, things began to look serious. Over one\nhundred thousand dollars would remain after he had settled the expenses\nof the cruise, and he was helplessly drifting in mid-ocean. Even if the\nnecessary repairs could be made promptly, it would take the \"Flitter\"\nfourteen days to sail from the Canaries to New York. Figure as hard as\nhe could he", "to balance\nthe old ones so that they appeared in the light most favorable to his\ndesigns. Going over the statistics carefully, he estimated that the\ncruise, including the repairs and return of the yacht to New York,\nwould cost him $210,000 in round figures. One hundred and thirty-three\ndays marked the length of the voyage when reckoned by time and, as near\nas he could get at it, the expense had averaged $1,580 a day. According\nto the contract, he was to pay for the yacht, exclusive", "full term of the lease and I am engaged to sail her with my crew until\nthe tenth of next September.\"\n\n\"We understand your position, captain, and I am sure you appreciate\nours. It isn't that we want to end a very delightful cruise, but that\nwe regard it as sheer folly for Mr. Brewster to extend the tour at such\ntremendous expense. He is--or was--a rich man, but it is impossible to\nignore the fact that he is plunging much too heavily. In plain words,\nwe want to keep him from spending more", "boat ever sailed out of the harbor of New York, and it was a merry\ncrowd that she carried out to sea. Brewster's guests numbered\ntwenty-five, and they brought with them a liberal supply of maids,\nvalets, and luggage. It was not until many weeks later that he read the\nvivid descriptions of the weighing of the anchor which were printed in\nthe New York papers, but by that time he was impervious to their\nridicule.\n\nOn deck, watching the rugged silhouette of the city disappear into the", "by the ship providing Monty would let\nDeMille manage the cruise,\" said Miss Valentine. \"That would have been\na concession and at the same time it would have put the cruise on an\neconomical basis.\"\n\n\"In other words, you will accept a man's invitation to dinner if he\nwill allow you to order it and invite the other guests,\" said Peggy,\nwho was quick to defend Monty.\n\n\"Well that would be better than helping to eat up every bit of food he\npossessed.\" But Miss Valentine always avoided argument when she could\nand gave this", "Scotland, but Monty vetoed the plan in the most decided manner.\n\n\"We sail for New York on the fastest boat,\" said Monty, and hurried off\nto learn the sailings and book his party. The first boat was to sail on\nthe 30th and he could only secure accommodations for twelve of his\nguests. The rest were obliged to follow a week later. This was readily\nagreed to and Bragdon was left to see to the necessary repairs on the\n\"Flitter\" and arrange for her homeward voyage. Monty gave Bragdon", "was not the same sort--she was\ndifferent. She was--well, she was Peggy.\n\nOccasionally his reflections assumed the importance of calculations.\nHis cruise was sure to cost $200,000, a princely sum, but not enough.\nSwearengen Jones and his cablegram did not awe him to a great extent.\nThe spending of the million had become a mania with him now and he had\nno regard for consequences. His one desire, aside from Peggy, was to\nincrease the cost of the cruise. They", "and the doughty captain finally was made\nto understand the object of the visit. He laughed in the sheik's face\nand told the mate to call up a few jackies to drive the \"dagoes\" off.\n\"Rip\" Van Winkle interfered and peace was restored. The cruise had\nchanged \"Rip\" into a happier and far more radiant creature, so it was\nonly natural that he should have shared the secret with Mary Valentine.\nHe had told the story of the sheik's demand to her as soon as he came\naboard, and she", "young man believed more than ever\nthat everything was ruled by a wise Providence, which had not deserted\nhim. His guests were heartsick when they heard the figure, but were as\nhappy as Monty at the prospect of reaching land again.\n\nThe \"Glencoe\" made several stops before Southampton was finally reached\non the 28th of August, but when the English coast was sighted every one\nwas too eager to go ashore to begrudge the extra day. Dan DeMille asked\nthe entire party to become his guests for a week's shooting trip in\n", "were\nin the DeMille party. The three days in England were marked by\nunparalleled extravagance on Monty's part. One of the local hotels was\nsubsidized for a week, although the party only stayed for luncheon, and\nthe Cecil in London was a gainer by several thousand dollars for the\nbrief stop there. It was a careworn little band that took Monty's\nspecial train for Southampton and embarked two days later. The \"rest\ncure\" that followed was welcome to all of them and Brewster was\nespecially", "after all the variety I so carefully secured! My dear\nboy, you are frightfully ungrateful.\"\n\n\"Oh, you know what I mean. And you know quite as well as I do that it\nis perfectly true. The dinners were a beastly bore, which proves that\nthey were a loud success. Your work was not done in vain. But now I\nwant something else. We must push along the ball we've been talking of.\nAnd the yachting cruise--that can't wait very much longer.\"\n\n\"The ball first,\" she decreed. \"I'", "again he took up the challenge and determined\nto win out. \"Then,\" he thought exultantly, \"I'll make them feel this a\nbit.\"\n\nHe longed for the time when he could take his few friends with him and\nsail away to the Mediterranean to escape the eyes and tongues of New\nYork. Impatiently he urged Harrison to complete the arrangements, so\nthat they could start at once. But Harrison's face was not untroubled\nwhen he made his report. All the preliminary details had been\nperfected. He had taken the \"", "very soon. I'm off on Thursday for a cruise in the\nMediterranean.\"\n\n\"I've heard something of it.\" They had reached the main floor and\nColonel Drew had drawn his companion out of the crowd into the rotunda.\n\"The money is at your disposal at any moment. But aren't you setting a\npretty lively pace, my boy? You know I've always liked you, and I knew\nyour grandfather rather well. He was a good old chap, Monty, and he\nwould hate to see you make ducks and dr", "he\nknew that they would stand by him through everything.\n\nThere was no little surprise when it was learned that Dan DeMille was\nready to sail. Many of the idle voyagers ventured the opinion that he\nwould try to desert the boat in mid-ocean if he saw a chance to get\nback to his club on a west-bound steamer. But DeMille, big, indolent,\nand indifferent, smiled carelessly, and hoped he wouldn't bother\nanybody if he \"stuck to the ship\" until the end.\n\nFor a time the", "for any period whatever. The profligate learned that a fair\nprice for an estate of that kind for a month was ten thousand francs,\nand he wired an offer of five times that sum for two weeks. The agent\nreplied that some delay would be necessary while he communicated with\nhis principal. Delay was the one word that Brewster did not understand,\nso he wired him an address in Genoa, and the \"Flitter\" was made ready\nfor sea. Steam had been kept up, and her coal account would compare\nfavorably with that of an ocean liner.", "Flitter\" for four months, and it was being\noverhauled and put into condition for the voyage. It had been Brown's\nspecial pride, but at his death it went to heirs who were ready and\neager to rent it to the highest bidder. It would not have been easy to\nfind a handsomer yacht in New York waters. A picked crew of fifty men\nwere under command of Captain Abner Perry. The steward was a famous\nmanager and could be relied upon to stock the larder in princely\nfashion. The boat would be in read" ], [ "invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As\nhe came aboard the \"Flitter,\" Monty believed the invitation was more\nthan justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so\nmuch of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell\ndesperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the\ncomposure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for\nBrewster the next day and told him to \"send her around\" and he would\nmarry her. Monty's", "be\nconsidered. I can live only in the hope that when I come to you again\nwith this same story and this same question you'll not be afraid to\ntrust yourself to me.\"\n\n\"You deserve to be happy for that, Monty,\" she said, earnestly, and it\nwas with difficulty that she kept her eyes from wavering as they looked\ninto his.\n\n\"You will let me try to make you love me?\" he asked, eagerly.\n\n\"I may not be worth the struggle.\"\n\n\"I'll take that chance,\" he replied", "Monty,\" she said, \"but I'm wondering\nwhether I care enough to--to marry you.\"\n\n\"We haven't known each other very long, Babs,\" he said, tenderly, \"but\nI think we know each other well enough to be beyond wondering.\"\n\n\"It is like you to manage the whole thing,\" she said, chidingly. \"Can't\nyou give me time to convince myself that I love you as you would like,\nand as I must love if I expect to be happy with the man I marry?\"\n\n\"I forgot myself,\"", "ably, falling far\nbehind his improvident average. With Grimes disposed of, he once more\nforsook the battlefield of love and gave his harassed and undivided\nattention to his own peculiar business.\n\nThe fast-and-loose game displeased Miss Barbara greatly. She was at\nfirst surprised, then piqued, then resentful. Monty gradually awoke to\nthe distressing fact that she was going to be intractable, as he put\nit, and forthwith undertook to smooth the troubled sea. To his\namaz", ".\"\nOlder women were interested in him because his father and mother had\nmade a romantic runaway match, which was the talk of the town in the\nseventies, and had never been forgiven. Worldly women were interested\nin him because he was the only grandson of Edwin Peter Brewster, who\nwas many times a millionaire, and Monty was fairly certain to be his\nheir--barring an absent-minded gift to charity. Younger women were\ninterested for a much more obvious and simple reason: they liked him.\nMen also took to Monty because he was", "of his\ncourse.\n\n\"Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.\"\n\n\"When I asked you to marry me,\" he continued gravely, \"it was with the\nthought that I could give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a\nfortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?\"\n\n\"No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I\nexpected, and I wanted you so much", "moment she looks at me\nI know she can see what I'm thinking about.\" From the first they\nconsidered themselves very good friends, and after their third meeting\nit seemed perfectly natural that they should call one another by their\nfirst names. Monty knew he was treading on dangerous ground. It never\noccurred to him to wonder what Barbara might think of him. He took it\nas a matter of course that she must feel more than friendly toward him.\nAs they rode through the maze of carriages, they bowed frequently to\nfriends as they passed. They were conscious", "with pleasure.\"\n\nMonty had merely a society acquaintance with Miss Drew. He had met her\nat dinners and dances as he had a host of other girls, but she had\nimpressed him more than the others. Something indescribable took place\nevery time their eyes met. Monty had often wondered just what that\nsomething meant, but he had always realized that it had in it nothing\nof platonic affection.\n\n\"If I didn't have to meet her eyes,\" he had said to himself, \"I could\ngo on discussing even politics with her, but the", "brain was whirling, and for the first time he was beginning to feel\nthe unpleasant pangs of jealousy. The Duke of Beauchamp he especially\ndisliked, although the poor man had hardly spoken during the dinner.\nBut Monty could not be reconciled. He knew, of course, that Barbara had\nsuitors by the dozen, but it had never occurred to him that they were\neven seriously considered. Notwithstanding the fact that his encounter\nwith \"The Censor\" had brought her into undesirable notice, she forgave\nhim everything after a moment's consideration. The", "oundered.\n\n\"What do you mean, Monty?\" she begged, purposely dense, and with\nwonderful control of her eyes.\n\n\"I love you, Babs,\" he cried. \"I thought you knew about it all along or\nI should have told you before. That's why I haven't slept. The fear\nthat you may not care for me has driven me nearly to distraction. It\ncouldn't go on any longer. I must know to-day.\"\n\nThere was a gleam in his eyes that made her pose of indifference", "discovered,\" Monty observed, \"that the club is not the\nonly place in the world.\"\n\n\"It's a funny thing,\" she answered, \"that Dan should have been so\nmisunderstood. Do you know that he relentlessly conceals his best side?\nDown underneath he is the kind of man who could do a fine thing very\nsimply.\"\n\n\"My dear Mrs. Dan, you surprise me. It looks to me almost as though you\nhad fallen in love with Dan yourself.\"\n\n\"Monty,\" she said, sharply, \"you are as blind as the", "he said, humbly.\n\n\"You forgot me,\" she protested, gently, touched by this sign of\ncontrition. \"I do care for you, Monty, but don't you see it's no little\nthing you ask of me? I must be sure--very sure--before I--before--\"\n\n\"Don't be so distressed,\" he pleaded. \"You will love me, I know,\nbecause you love me now. This means much to me, but it means more to\nyou. You are the woman and you are the one whose happiness should", ". But I'll not be a profligate in love, Peggy.\nI'll not squander an atom of it, dear, not as long as I live.\"\n\n\"And we will build a greater love, Monty, as we build the new life\ntogether. We never can be poor while we have love as a treasure.\"\n\n\"You won't mind being poor with me?\" he asked.\n\n\"I can't be poor with you,\" she said simply.\n\n\"And I might have let all this escape me,\" he cried fervently. \"Listen", "he will be a pauper within a\nyear.\"\n\n\"Yet they charitably help him to spend his money. And I have noticed\nthat even worldly mammas find him eligible.\" The comment was not\nwithout its caustic side.\n\n\"That was months ago, my dear,\" protested Barbara, calmly. \"When he\nspoke to me--he told me it would be impossible for him to marry within\na year. And don't you see that a year may make him an abject beggar?\"\n\n\"Naturally anything is preferable to a", "y,\" she added, more softly, \"this sort of thing\nfrom me? I know I ought not to interfere, but I've known you so long.\nAnd I hate to see things twisted by a very little mistake.\"\n\nBut Monty did mind enormously. He had no desire to talk about the thing\nanyway, and Peggy's anxiety to marry him off seemed a bit unnecessary.\nManifestly her own interest in him was of the coldest. From out of the\ngloom he looked at her somewhat sullenly. For the moment she was\nthinking only", "than done his duty. He used no small part of his income on the flowers,\nbut in this case his mission was almost forgotten in his love for\nBarbara.\n\nMonty's attitude was not due to any wanting of his affection, but to\nthe very unromantic business in which he was engaged. It seemed to him\nthat, plan as he might, he could not devise fresh ways and means to\nearn $16,000 a day. He was still comfortably ahead in the race, but a\nfamine in opportunities was not far remote. Ten big dinner parties", "\n\"Oh, don't worry about him,\" said \"Subway,\" easily; \"Monty's at least a\ngood sportsman. He won't complain, whatever happens. He'll accept the\nreckoning and pay the piper.\"\n\nIt was only toward the end of the evening that Monty found his reward\nin a moment with Barbara Drew. He stood before her, squaring his\nshoulders belligerently to keep away intruders, and she smiled up at\nhim in that bewildering fashion of hers. But it was only for an\ninstant, and", "Peggy? Do you suppose there is something that I\ncould do? You know what I mean--something that some one else would not\ndo a thousand times better.\"\n\nBut Peggy, to whom this chastened mood in Monty was infinitely\npathetic, would not let him talk. She soothed him and cheered him and\ntouched his hair with her cool hands. And then she left him to think\nand brood and dream.\n\nIt was many days before his turbulent mind drifted to the subject of\nmoney, but suddenly he found himself hoping that the surge", "it, do you? Am I as bad as that?\"\n\nIt was a moment for dominance, and he missed it. His gentleness left\nher cold.\n\n\"Monty,\" she exclaimed irritably, \"you are terribly exasperating. Do\nmake up your mind that you and your million are not the only things in\nthe world.\"\n\nHis blood was up now, but it flung him away from her.\n\n\"Some day, perhaps, you'll find out that there is not much besides. I\nam just a little too big, for one thing,", "had a liking for Monty, and\nBarbara's \"society judgments,\" as he called them, had no weight with\nhim. When he found himself confronted with Brewster in the elevator,\nthe old warmth revived and the old hope that the quarrel might have an\nend. His greeting was cheery.\n\n\"You have not forgotten, Brewster,\" he said, as they shook hands, \"that\nyou have a dollar or two with us?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Monty, \"not exactly. And I shall be calling upon you for\nsome of it" ], [ "turn over\nto Montgomery Brewster, the day after the will was probated, securities\nto the amount of one million dollars, provided for in clause four of\nthe instrument. And so it was that on the 26th of September young Mr.\nBrewster had an unconditional fortune thrust upon him, weighted only\nwith the suggestion of crepe that clung to it.\n\nSince his grandfather's death he had been staying at the gloomy old\nBrewster house in Fifth Avenue, paying but two or three hurried visits\nto the rooms at Mrs. Gray's", "Brewster.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Montgomery, somewhat puzzled. \"But why do you say that I\nam both fortunate and unfortunate?\"\n\n\"The situation is so remarkable that you'll consider that a mild way of\nputting it when you've heard everything. I think you were told, in our\nnote of yesterday, that you are the sole heir. Well, it may surprise\nyou to learn that James Sedgwick died possessed of an estate valued at\nalmost seven million dollars.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster sat like one petrified, staring blankly at the", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "anybody else could possess his money, and that, once dead, it\nwould be folly for him to worry over the way in which beneficiaries\nmight choose to manage their own affairs.\n\nThe house in Fifth Avenue went to a sister, together with a million or\ntwo, and the residue of the estate found kindly disposed relatives who\nwere willing to keep it from going to the Home for Friendless Fortunes.\nOld Mr. Brewster left his affairs in order. The will nominated Jerome\nBuskirk as executor, and he was instructed, in conclusion, to", "greater delight than to share it with them. To walk into the little\ndrawing-room and serenely lay large sums before them as their own\nseemed such a natural proceeding that he refused to see an obstacle.\nBut he knew it was there; the proffer of such a gift to Mrs. Gray would\nmean a wound to the pride inherited from haughty generations of men\nsufficient unto themselves. There was a small but troublesome mortgage\non the house, a matter of two or three thousand dollars, and Brewster\ntried to evolve a plan by which he", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "\n\n\"It must be a joke, Mr. Grant,\" he said, still groping with difficulty\nthrough the fog.\n\n\"No, Mr. Brewster, it is absolutely genuine. Here is a telegram from\nthe Probate Court in Sedgwick's home county, received in response to a\nquery from us. It says that the will is to be filed for probate and\nthat Mr. Sedgwick was many times a millionaire. This statement, which\nhe calls an inventory, enumerates his holdings and their value, and the\nfooting shows $6,", "into a\nmillion or two. He had \"realized,\" as Oliver Harrison would have put\nit. Two days after his grandfather's funeral a final will and testament\nwas read, and, as was expected, the old banker atoned for the hardships\nRobert Brewster and his wife had endured by bequeathing one million\ndollars to their son Montgomery. It was his without a restriction,\nwithout an admonition, without an incumbrance. There was not a\nsuggestion as to how it should be handled by the heir. The", "\nwill, and two nephews were cut off entirely; a very modest and\nimpecunious grandson of Joseph Garrity also was to sustain a severe\nchange of fortune in the near future, if the cards spoke correctly.\nJudge Van Woort, who was not expected to live through the night, got\nbetter immediately after hearing some one in the sick-room whisper that\nMontgomery Brewster was to give a big dinner. Naturally, the\nheirs-to-be condemned young Brewster in no uncertain terms.\n\nNevertheless, the dinner to be given by the", "business\ntraining the old man had given him was synonymous with conditions not\nexpressed in the will. The dead man believed that he had drilled into\nthe youth an unmistakable conception of what was expected of him in\nlife; if he failed in these expectations the misfortune would be his\nalone to bear; a road had been carved out for him and behind him\nstretched a long line of guide-posts whose laconic instructions might\nbe ignored but never forgotten. Edwin Peter Brewster evidently made his\nwill with the sensible conviction that it was necessary for him to die\nbefore", "come to Mr. Brewster's house at once--if you can, sir--I mean, if you\nwill, sir,\" Ellis interjected apologetically. Then, with his gaze\ndirected steadily over the heads of the subdued \"Sons,\" he added,\nimpressively:\n\n\"Mr. Brewster is dead, sir.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nSHADES OF ALADDIN\n\n\nMontgomery Brewster no longer had \"prospects.\" People could not now\npoint him out with the remark that some day he would come", "known that upon\none occasion he visited the office of his sister's enemy for the\npurpose of slaying him, but something prevented. He carried that hatred\nto the grave, as you will see.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster was trying to gather himself together from within\nthe fog which made himself and the world unreal.\n\n\"I believe I'd like to have you read this extraor--the will, Mr.\nGrant,\" he said, with an effort to hold his nerves in leash.\n\nMr. Grant cleared his throat and began in his still voice. Once he", "you were the only child of your mother and therefore his\nonly nephew. He sets forth the dates of your mother's marriage, of your\nbirth, of the death of Robert Brewster and of Mrs. Brewster. He also\nwas aware of the fact that old Edwin Peter Brewster intended to\nbequeath a large fortune to you--and thereby hangs a tale. Sedgwick was\nproud. When he lived in New York, he was regarded as the kind of man\nwho never forgave the person who touched roughly upon his pride. You\nknow, of course, that", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "accept what is already yours. I understand that\nthe money has been paid to you by Mr. Buskirk. You have a million\ndollars, Mr. Brewster, and it cannot be denied.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" agreed Montgomery, dejectedly. \"Really, Mr. Grant,\nthis proposition is too much for me. If you aren't required to give an\nimmediate answer, I want to think it over. It sounds like a dream.\"\n\n\"It is no dream, Mr. Brewster,\" smiled the lawyer. \"You are face to\nface with", "of James\nSedgwick was plainly discernible the motive that prompted it. In almost\nso many words he declared that his heir should not receive the fortune\nif he possessed a single penny that had come to him, in any shape or\nform, from the man he hated, Edwin Peter Brewster. While Sedgwick could\nnot have known at the time of his death that the banker had bequeathed\none million dollars to his grandson, it was more than apparent that he\nexpected the young man to be enriched liberally by his enemy. It", "\nlooked up to find his listener eager, and again to find him grown\nindifferent. He wondered dimly if this were a pose.\n\nIn brief, the last will of James T. Sedgwick bequeathed everything,\nreal and personal, of which he died possessed, to his only nephew,\nMontgomery Brewster of New York, son of Robert and Louise Sedgwick\nBrewster. Supplementing this all-important clause there was a set of\nconditions governing the final disposition of the estate. The most\nextraordinary of these conditions was the one which required", "bad. We--we had the utmost confidence\nin Jones. My God, I wish I could help you, my boy.\"\n\n\"I don't blame you, gentlemen,\" said Brewster, bravely. \"It's just my\nluck, that's all. Something told me all along that--that it wouldn't\nturn out right. I wasn't looking for this kind of end, though. My only\nfear was that--Jones wouldn't consider me worthy to receive the\nfortune. It never occurred to me that he might prove to be the", "to me?\"\n\n\"With a proviso.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"I have a copy of the will. Mr. Ripley and I are the only persons in\nNew York who at present know its contents. You, I am sure, after\nhearing it, will not divulge them without the most careful\ndeliberation.\"\n\nMr. Grant drew the document from a pigeon-hole in his desk, adjusted\nhis glasses and prepared to read. Then, as though struck by a sudden\nthought, he laid the paper down and turned once more to Brewster", "going to prove that my\ngrandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come out on top.\"\n\nRipley was obviously moved as he replied, \"I don't question it for a\nmoment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may\ncount on us to-morrow for any amount you need.\"\n\nGrant endorsed the opinion. \"I like your spirit, Brewster,\" he said.\n\"There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty\nhard on you, too, and it'" ], [ "rid of my grandfather's million in short order.\" Brewster's voice rang\ntrue now. The zest of life was coming back.\n\nMr. Grant leaned forward slowly and his intent, penetrating gaze served\nas a check to the young fellow's enthusiasm.\n\n\"I admire and approve the sagacity which urges you to exchange a paltry\nmillion for a fortune, but it seems to me that you are forgetting the\nconditions,\" he said, slowly. \"Has it occurred to you that it will be\nno easy task to spend a million dollars without in some way", ".\n\n\"Well, I fancy I can wait,\" said Brewster with a smile that cleared the\nair.\n\n\"But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million. Do\nyou forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?\"\n\n\"But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?\" asked Mr. Grant, mildly.\n\n\"Why, by the simple process of destruction. Don't you suppose I can get\nrid of a million", "into a\nmillion or two. He had \"realized,\" as Oliver Harrison would have put\nit. Two days after his grandfather's funeral a final will and testament\nwas read, and, as was expected, the old banker atoned for the hardships\nRobert Brewster and his wife had endured by bequeathing one million\ndollars to their son Montgomery. It was his without a restriction,\nwithout an admonition, without an incumbrance. There was not a\nsuggestion as to how it should be handled by the heir. The", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "Brewster.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Montgomery, somewhat puzzled. \"But why do you say that I\nam both fortunate and unfortunate?\"\n\n\"The situation is so remarkable that you'll consider that a mild way of\nputting it when you've heard everything. I think you were told, in our\nnote of yesterday, that you are the sole heir. Well, it may surprise\nyou to learn that James Sedgwick died possessed of an estate valued at\nalmost seven million dollars.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster sat like one petrified, staring blankly at the", "the heir\nto be absolutely penniless upon the twenty-sixth anniversary of his\nbirth, September 23d.\n\nThe instrument went into detail in respect to this supreme condition.\nIt set forth that Montgomery Brewster was to have no other worldly\npossession than the clothes which covered him on the September day\nnamed. He was to begin that day without a penny to his name, without a\nsingle article of jewelry, furniture or finance that he could call his\nown or could thereafter reclaim. At nine o'clock, New York time, on the", "accept what is already yours. I understand that\nthe money has been paid to you by Mr. Buskirk. You have a million\ndollars, Mr. Brewster, and it cannot be denied.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" agreed Montgomery, dejectedly. \"Really, Mr. Grant,\nthis proposition is too much for me. If you aren't required to give an\nimmediate answer, I want to think it over. It sounds like a dream.\"\n\n\"It is no dream, Mr. Brewster,\" smiled the lawyer. \"You are face to\nface with", ". In fact,\nhe once said he'd give a million of his own money if it would purchase\nyour ability to spend one-fourth of it.\"\n\n\"Well, he can have my experience free of charge. A beggar can't be a\nchooser, you know,\" said Brewster, bitterly. His color was gradually\ncoming back. \"What do they know about the secretary?\" he asked,\nsuddenly, intent and alive.\n\n\"He was a new one, I understand, who came to Jones less than a year\nago. Jones is said to have had", "seed expect me\nto spend a million for newspapers, cigarettes and Boston terriers? I\nthought he would be reasonable!\"\n\n\"He evidently has seen the newspaper accounts of your dinner, and this\nis merely his comment,\" said Mr. Ripley.\n\n\"It's either a warning, or else he's ambiguous in his compliments,\"\ngrowled Brewster, disgustedly.\n\n\"I don't believe he disapproved, Mr. Brewster. In the west the old\ngentleman is widely known as a wit.\"\n\n\"A w", "turn over\nto Montgomery Brewster, the day after the will was probated, securities\nto the amount of one million dollars, provided for in clause four of\nthe instrument. And so it was that on the 26th of September young Mr.\nBrewster had an unconditional fortune thrust upon him, weighted only\nwith the suggestion of crepe that clung to it.\n\nSince his grandfather's death he had been staying at the gloomy old\nBrewster house in Fifth Avenue, paying but two or three hurried visits\nto the rooms at Mrs. Gray's", "violating\nthe restrictions in your uncle's will, thereby losing both fortunes?\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE MESSAGE FROM JONES\n\n\nA new point of view gradually came to Brewster. All his life had been\nspent in wondering how to get enough money to pay his bills, and it had\nnot occurred to him that it might be as difficult to spend as to\nacquire wealth. The thought staggered him for a moment. Then he cried\ntriumphantly, \"I can decline to accept grandfather's million.\"\n\n\"You cannot decline to", "Brewster began a career that would have\nstartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the\n\"Little Sons of the Rich,\" he asked his friends to dinner and opened\ntheir eyes.\n\n\"Champagne!\" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. \"I can't\nremember the last time I had champagne.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" laughed \"Subway\" Smith. \"You couldn't remember anything\nafter that.\"\n\nAs the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to double\nhis fortune within a year. \"", "was his opportunity.\nThe only drawback was the time limit which Brewster so remorselessly\nfixed. Without that he felt that he could have done something splendid\nin the way of decorative panels--something that would make even the\nglory of Puvis de Chavannes turn pallid. With it he was obliged to curb\nhis turbulent ideas, and he decided that a rich simplicity was the\nproper note. The result was gorgeous, but not too gorgeous,--it had\ndepth and distinction.\n\nElated and eager, he assisted Brewster in", "0,000.00\n\nRespectfully submitted,\n\nMONTGOMERY BREWSTER.\n\n\n\"It's rather broad, you see, gentlemen, but there are receipts for\nevery dollar, barring some trifling incidentals. He may think I\ndissipated the fortune, but I defy him or any one else to prove that I\nhave not had my money's worth. To tell you the truth, it has seemed\nlike a hundred million. If any one should tell you that it is an easy\nmatter to", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", "of the cuisine\nand personal service. And he had found it simple enough to spend the\nremaining $1,080. There were days, of course, when fully $5,000\ndisappeared, and there were others on which he spent much less than\n$1,000, but the average was secure. Taking everything into\nconsideration, Brewster found that his fortune had dwindled to a few\npaltry thousands in addition to the proceeds which would come to him\nfrom the sale of his furniture. On the whole he was satisfied.\n\nThe", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "\nmorning of September 23d, the executor, under the provisions of the\nwill, was to make over and transfer to Montgomery Brewster all of the\nmoneys, lands, bonds, and interests mentioned in the inventory which\naccompanied the will. In the event that Montgomery Brewster had not, in\nevery particular, complied with the requirements of the will, to the\nfull satisfaction of the said executor, Swearengen Jones, the estate\nwas to be distributed among certain institutions of charity designated\nin the instrument. Underlying this imperative injunction", "for any period whatever. The profligate learned that a fair\nprice for an estate of that kind for a month was ten thousand francs,\nand he wired an offer of five times that sum for two weeks. The agent\nreplied that some delay would be necessary while he communicated with\nhis principal. Delay was the one word that Brewster did not understand,\nso he wired him an address in Genoa, and the \"Flitter\" was made ready\nfor sea. Steam had been kept up, and her coal account would compare\nfavorably with that of an ocean liner." ], [ "yacht would sail for Boston and that he would be kept a\nprisoner for the entire voyage unless he submitted to the will of the\nmajority.\n\nBrewster listened darkly to the proclamation. He saw that they had\ngained the upper hand by a clever ruse, and that only strategy on his\npart could outwit them. It was out of the question for him to submit to\nthem now that the controversy had assumed the dignity of a struggle.\n\n\"But you will be reasonable, won't you?\" asked DeMille, anxiously.\n\n\"", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "going to prove that my\ngrandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come out on top.\"\n\nRipley was obviously moved as he replied, \"I don't question it for a\nmoment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may\ncount on us to-morrow for any amount you need.\"\n\nGrant endorsed the opinion. \"I like your spirit, Brewster,\" he said.\n\"There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty\nhard on you, too, and it'", "\nmorning of September 23d, the executor, under the provisions of the\nwill, was to make over and transfer to Montgomery Brewster all of the\nmoneys, lands, bonds, and interests mentioned in the inventory which\naccompanied the will. In the event that Montgomery Brewster had not, in\nevery particular, complied with the requirements of the will, to the\nfull satisfaction of the said executor, Swearengen Jones, the estate\nwas to be distributed among certain institutions of charity designated\nin the instrument. Underlying this imperative injunction", "Brewster began a career that would have\nstartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the\n\"Little Sons of the Rich,\" he asked his friends to dinner and opened\ntheir eyes.\n\n\"Champagne!\" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. \"I can't\nremember the last time I had champagne.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" laughed \"Subway\" Smith. \"You couldn't remember anything\nafter that.\"\n\nAs the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to double\nhis fortune within a year. \"", "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "\"Dan DeMille, you are quite foolish,\" cried his wife. \"Who ever\nconceived such a ridiculous idea?\"\n\n\"Captain Perry has his instructions,\" continued DeMille, turning to the\ncaptain. \"Are we not acting along the lines marked out by Brewster\nhimself?\"\n\n\"I will sail for Boston if you say the word,\" said the thoughtful\ncaptain. \"But he is sure to countermand such an order.\"\n\n\"He won't be able to, captain,\" cried \"Subway\" Smith, who had for some\ntime been", "\n\n\"Well, if Monty Brewster is still in love with Miss Drew he takes a\nmighty poor way of showing it.\" \"Subway\" Smith's remark fell like a\nbombshell. The thought had come to every one, but no one had been given\nthe courage to utter it. For them Brewster's silence on the subject\nsince the DeMille dinner seemed to have something ominous behind it.\n\n\"It's probably only a lovers' quarrel,\" said Bragdon. But further\ncomment was cut short by the entrance of Monty", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", ".\n\n\"Well, I fancy I can wait,\" said Brewster with a smile that cleared the\nair.\n\n\"But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million. Do\nyou forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?\"\n\n\"But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?\" asked Mr. Grant, mildly.\n\n\"Why, by the simple process of destruction. Don't you suppose I can get\nrid of a million", "Milan, he suggested to Brewster that a special performance would be\nvery difficult to secure, but might still be possible. His chief caught\nat the idea and authorized him to make every arrangement, reserving the\nentire house for his own party.\n\n\"But the place will look bare,\" protested the courier, aghast.\n\n\"Fill it with flowers, cover it with tapestries,\" commanded Brewster.\n\"I put the affair in your hands, and I trust you to carry it through in\nthe right way. Show them how it ought to be done.\"\n\nB", "upon\nit, it was a weakness not readily gratified. The machine she had used\nduring the winter was by no means up-to-date. Possibly if Monsieur--yet\nit was too much--no villa--\n\nBut Brewster's decision was made. \"Wire the fellow,\" he said, \"that I\nwill add to my last offer a French machine of the latest model and the\nbest make. Say, too, that I would like immediate possession.\"\n\nHe secured it, and the crowd was transferred at once to fairyland.\nThere were protests,", "hoarsely, his hand still on the knob.\n\n\"Sit down, Brewster, and control yourself,\" said Ripley.\n\n\"Good God, man, can't you see I am calm?\" cried Monty. \"Go on--tell me\nall about it. What do you know? What have you heard?\"\n\n\"He cannot be found, that's all,\" announced Ripley, with deadly\nintentness. \"I don't know what it means. There is no explanation. The\nwhole thing is inconceivable. Sit down and", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", ". In fact,\nhe once said he'd give a million of his own money if it would purchase\nyour ability to spend one-fourth of it.\"\n\n\"Well, he can have my experience free of charge. A beggar can't be a\nchooser, you know,\" said Brewster, bitterly. His color was gradually\ncoming back. \"What do they know about the secretary?\" he asked,\nsuddenly, intent and alive.\n\n\"He was a new one, I understand, who came to Jones less than a year\nago. Jones is said to have had", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "come to Mr. Brewster's house at once--if you can, sir--I mean, if you\nwill, sir,\" Ellis interjected apologetically. Then, with his gaze\ndirected steadily over the heads of the subdued \"Sons,\" he added,\nimpressively:\n\n\"Mr. Brewster is dead, sir.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nSHADES OF ALADDIN\n\n\nMontgomery Brewster no longer had \"prospects.\" People could not now\npoint him out with the remark that some day he would come", "a dear to help me keep my\nappointment.\"\n\n\"Seems to me you helped yourself,\" she cried after him as he darted up\nthe steps. \"Come up for tea some day and tell me who the lady is.\"\n\nAfter he had gone Miss Drew turned to her chauffeur, who was in the\ntonneau. Then she laughed unrestrainedly, and the faintest shadow of a\ngrin stole over the man's face.\n\n\"Beg pardon, Miss,\" he said, \"but I'd back Mr. Brewster against", "from one side just as Brewster entered\nfrom the other. Stupefaction halted them. After the first pulseless\nmoment of horror, exclamations of dismay went up on all sides. For\nMonty Brewster the first sensation of regret was followed by a\ndiabolical sense of joy.\n\n\"Thank the Lord!\" he said softly in the hush.\n\nThe look of surprise he encountered in the faces of his guests brought\nhim up with a jerk.\n\n\"That it didn't happen while we were dining,\" he added with serene\nthankfulness", "at the entrance\nof the big building.\n\nNever had an elevator traveled more slowly than the one which shot him\nto the seventh floor. A light shone through the transom above the\nattorneys' door and he entered without so much as a rap on the panel.\nGrant, who was pacing the floor, came to a standstill and faced his\nvisitor.\n\n\"Close the door, please,\" came in steady tones from Ripley. Mr. Grant\ndropped into a chair and Brewster mechanically slammed the door.\n\n\"Is it true?\" he demanded" ], [ "taking anybody into your\nconfidence concerning this matter. Think it over. It may not be so\ndifficult after a night's sleep.\"\n\n\"If it isn't too difficult to get the night's sleep.\"\n\nAll the rest of the day Brewster wandered about as one in a dream. He\nwas pre-occupied and puzzled, and more than one of his old associates,\nreceiving a distant nod in passing, resentfully concluded that his\nwealth was beginning to change him. His brain was so full of\nstatistics, figures, and computations that it", "hoarsely, his hand still on the knob.\n\n\"Sit down, Brewster, and control yourself,\" said Ripley.\n\n\"Good God, man, can't you see I am calm?\" cried Monty. \"Go on--tell me\nall about it. What do you know? What have you heard?\"\n\n\"He cannot be found, that's all,\" announced Ripley, with deadly\nintentness. \"I don't know what it means. There is no explanation. The\nwhole thing is inconceivable. Sit down and", ". In fact,\nhe once said he'd give a million of his own money if it would purchase\nyour ability to spend one-fourth of it.\"\n\n\"Well, he can have my experience free of charge. A beggar can't be a\nchooser, you know,\" said Brewster, bitterly. His color was gradually\ncoming back. \"What do they know about the secretary?\" he asked,\nsuddenly, intent and alive.\n\n\"He was a new one, I understand, who came to Jones less than a year\nago. Jones is said to have had", "look after some of his property and were not\nuneasy. Finally we began to wonder why he had not wired us on leaving\nfor the east. I telegraphed him again and got no answer. It dawned upon\nus that this was something unusual. We wired his secretary and received\na response from the chief of police. He asked, in turn, if we could\ntell him anything about the whereabouts of Jones. This naturally\nalarmed us and yesterday we kept the wires hot. The result of our\ninquiries is terrible, Mr. Brewster.\"\n\n\"", "Why didn't you tell me?\" asked Brewster.\n\n\"There can be no doubt that Jones has fled, accompanied by his\nsecretary. The belief in Butte is that the secretary has murdered him.\"\n\n\"God!\" was the only sound that came from the lips of Brewster.\n\nRipley moistened his lips and went on\n\n\"We have dispatches here from the police, the banks, the trust\ncompanies and from a half dozen mine managers. You may read them if you\nlike, but I can tell you what they say. About the first of this", "\n\n\"Well, if Monty Brewster is still in love with Miss Drew he takes a\nmighty poor way of showing it.\" \"Subway\" Smith's remark fell like a\nbombshell. The thought had come to every one, but no one had been given\nthe courage to utter it. For them Brewster's silence on the subject\nsince the DeMille dinner seemed to have something ominous behind it.\n\n\"It's probably only a lovers' quarrel,\" said Bragdon. But further\ncomment was cut short by the entrance of Monty", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "moment of silence, almost of\ndread.\n\n\"You mean the fellow with the beard?\" asked Monty, uneasily.\n\n\"Yes, sir. He sent in this letter, begging you to read it at once.\"\n\n\"Shall I send him away, Monty?\" demanded Bragdon, defiantly. \"What does\nhe mean by coming at this time?\"\n\n\"I'll read the letter first, Joe.\"\n\nEvery eye was on Brewster as he tore open the envelope. His face was\nexpressive. There was wonder in it, then", "share all his\nsecrets with her, that is why he did not tell her that Grant & Ripley\nhad called him up to report the receipt of a telegram from Swearengen\nJones, in which the gentleman laconically said he could feed the whole\nState of Montana for less than six thousand dollars. Beyond that there\nwas no comment. Brewster, in dire trepidation, hastened to the office\nof the attorneys. They smiled when he burst in upon them.\n\n\"Good heavens!\" he exclaimed, \"does the miserly old hay", "evening ended with fireworks and a dance in the open air,--a dance\nthat grew gay under the masks. The wheels had been well oiled and there\nwas no visible failure of the carnival spirit. To Brewster it seemed a\nmad game, and he found it less easy to play a part behind the foolish\nmask than he expected. His own friends seemed to elude him, and the\ncoquetries of the village damsels had merely a fleeting charm. He was\nstanding apart to watch the glimmering crowd when he was startled by a\nsmothered cry. Turn", "I will tell you everything\nas quickly as possible.\"\n\n\"There isn't much to tell,\" said Grant, mechanically.\n\n\"I can take it better standing,\" declared Brewster, shutting his jaws\ntightly.\n\n\"Jones was last seen in Butte on the third of this month,\" said Ripley.\n\"We sent several telegrams to him after that day, asking when he\nexpected to leave for New York. They never were claimed and the\ntelegraph company reported that he could not be found. We thought he\nmight have gone off to", "is wise.\"\n\nAn hour later the meeting broke up and the conspirators made their way\nto the deck. It was a strange fact that no one went alone. They were in\ngroups of three and four and the mystery that hung about them was\nalmost perceptible. Not one was willing to face the excited, buoyant\nBrewster without help; they found strength and security in\ncompanionship.\n\nPeggy was the one rebel against the conspiracy, and yet she knew that\nthe others were justified in the step they proposed to take. She\nreluctantly joined them", "\n\"But it was only a few weeks ago that you were engaged.\"\n\n\"I am sorry,\" answered Barbara, \"that it should have been talked about\nso much. Mr. Brewster did ask me to marry him, but I never accepted. In\nfact, it was only his persistence that made me consider the matter at\nall. I did think about it. I confess that I rather liked him. But it\nwas not long before I found him out.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" And there was a flash in Peggy's eyes. \"What has he\ndone?\"\n\n", "calmly.\n\n\"Going to be out of town?\"\n\n\"I'm sure I do not know,\" stiffly.\n\n\"What's this?\"\n\n\"He has not been asked, father.\" Miss Drew was not in good humor.\n\n\"Not asked?\" said the Colonel in amazement. \"It's ridiculous, Babs,\nsend him an invitation at once.\"\n\n\"This is my dance, father, and I don't want to ask Mr. Brewster.\"\n\nThe Colonel sank back in his chair and struggled to overcome his anger.\nHe", "to me?\"\n\n\"With a proviso.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"I have a copy of the will. Mr. Ripley and I are the only persons in\nNew York who at present know its contents. You, I am sure, after\nhearing it, will not divulge them without the most careful\ndeliberation.\"\n\nMr. Grant drew the document from a pigeon-hole in his desk, adjusted\nhis glasses and prepared to read. Then, as though struck by a sudden\nthought, he laid the paper down and turned once more to Brewster", "akes of his fortune.\"\n\nThere was something in the Colonel's manner that softened Brewster,\nmuch as he hated to take a reproof from Barbara's father. Once again he\nwas tempted to tell the truth, but he pulled himself up in time. \"It's\na funny old world, Colonel,\" he said; \"and sometimes one's nearest\nfriend is a stranger. I know I seem a fool; but, after all, why isn't\nit good philosophy to make the most of a holiday and then settle back\nto work?\"\n\n\"That is all", "do is to cheer up the women and trust to luck.\"\n\n\"You're the nerviest mate I ever shipped with, Mr. Brewster,\" and the\ncaptain's hand gripped Monty's in a way that meant things. It was a\ntribute he appreciated.\n\nDuring the day Monty devoted himself to his guests, and at the first\nsign of pensiveness he was ready with a jest or a story. But he did it\nall with a tact that inspired the crowd as a whole with hope, and no\none suspected that he himself was not cheerful.", "mean there will not be any party, if\nMontgomery Brewster is not asked. That is all I care to say on the\nsubject,\" and he stamped out of the room.\n\nBarbara wept copiously after her father had gone, but she realized that\nhis will was law and that Monty must be invited. \"I will send an\ninvitation,\" she said to herself, \"but if Mr. Brewster comes after he\nhas read it, I shall be surprised.\"\n\nMontgomery, however, did not receive the note in the spirit in which it\nhad been sent. He", "not conceal from his\nfriends. Little fits of fever annoyed him occasionally and he admitted\nthat he did not feel quite right.\n\n\"Something is wrong somewhere,\" he said, ruefully, \"and my whole system\nseems ready to stop work through sympathy.\"\n\nSuddenly there was a mighty check to the preparations. Two days before\nthe date set for the ball everything came to a standstill and the\nmanagers sank back in perplexity and consternation. Monty Brewster was\ncritically ill.\n\nAppendicitis, the doctors called it,", "a dear to help me keep my\nappointment.\"\n\n\"Seems to me you helped yourself,\" she cried after him as he darted up\nthe steps. \"Come up for tea some day and tell me who the lady is.\"\n\nAfter he had gone Miss Drew turned to her chauffeur, who was in the\ntonneau. Then she laughed unrestrainedly, and the faintest shadow of a\ngrin stole over the man's face.\n\n\"Beg pardon, Miss,\" he said, \"but I'd back Mr. Brewster against" ], [ ", a transaction inspired by\nthe wild hope that one of them might some day suspend operations and\nthereby prove a legitimate benefit to him. There seemed no prospect\nthat the bank could resume operations, and if the depositors in the end\nrealized twenty cents on the dollar they would be fortunate.\nNotwithstanding the fact that everybody had considered the institution\nsubstantial there were not a few wiseacres who called Brewster a fool\nand were so unreasonable as to say that he did not know how to handle\nmoney. He heard that Miss Drew, in particular, was bitterly sar", "grew\nmore alarmed than they could afford to let the public see. The loans of\nall the banks were unusually large. Incipient runs on some had put all\nof them in an attitude of caution, and there was a natural reluctance\nto expose their own interests to jeopardy by coming to the relief of\nthe Bank of Manhattan Island.\n\nMonty Brewster had something like $200,000 in Colonel Drew's bank. He\nwould not have regretted on his own account the collapse of this\ninstitution, but he realized what it meant", "ed from the point of view of these men, but a catastrophe from\nhis own.\n\n\"I hope you sold it when it was at the top,\" said the Colonel anxiously.\n\n\"I instructed Gardner to sell only when I gave the word,\" said Monty,\nlamely. Several of the men looked at him in surprise and disgust.\n\n\"Well, if I were you I'd tell him to sell,\" remarked the Colonel,\ncoldly.\n\n\"The effect of your plunge has worn off, Brewster, and the other side\nwill drive", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", "prices down. They won't be caught napping again, either,\"\nsaid one of the bystanders earnestly.\n\n\"Do you think so?\" And there was a note of relief in Monty's voice.\n\nFrom all sides came the advice to sell at once, but Brewster was not to\nbe pushed. He calmly lighted a cigarette, and with an assured air of\nwisdom told them to wait a little while and see.\n\n\"She's already falling off,\" said some one at the ticker.\n\nWhen Brewster's bewildered", "taunt and Mrs. Dan's\nopen criticism told plainly enough how the wind was blowing, but it was\nPeggy's gentle questions that cut the deepest. There was such honest\nconcern in her voice that he could see how his profligacy was troubling\nher and Mrs. Gray. In their eyes, more than in the others, he felt\nashamed and humiliated. Finally, goaded by the remark of a bank\ndirector which he overheard, \"Edwin P. Brewster is turning handsprings\nin his grave over the way he is", "Brewster began a career that would have\nstartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the\n\"Little Sons of the Rich,\" he asked his friends to dinner and opened\ntheir eyes.\n\n\"Champagne!\" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. \"I can't\nremember the last time I had champagne.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" laughed \"Subway\" Smith. \"You couldn't remember anything\nafter that.\"\n\nAs the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to double\nhis fortune within a year. \"", "was his opportunity.\nThe only drawback was the time limit which Brewster so remorselessly\nfixed. Without that he felt that he could have done something splendid\nin the way of decorative panels--something that would make even the\nglory of Puvis de Chavannes turn pallid. With it he was obliged to curb\nhis turbulent ideas, and he decided that a rich simplicity was the\nproper note. The result was gorgeous, but not too gorgeous,--it had\ndepth and distinction.\n\nElated and eager, he assisted Brewster in", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "was up. \"You mean to\nforce me to it. What you did for father--\"\n\nBrewster glowered at her, thinking that he had misunderstood. \"What do\nyou mean?\" he said.\n\n\"He has told me all about that wretched bank business. But poor father\nthought you quite disinterested. He did not see the little game behind\nyour melodrama. He would have torn up your check on the instant if he\nhad suspected you were trying to buy his daughter.\"\n\n\"Does your father believe that?\" asked Brewster.\n\n", "there was little reluctance to help him in\nthe wild career he had chosen. It was so easy to go with him to the\nedge of the precipice and let him take the plunge alone. Only the echo\nof the criticism reached Brewster, for he had silenced Harrison with\nwork and Pettingill with opportunities. It troubled him little, as he\nwas engaged in jotting down items that swelled the profit side of his\nledger account enormously. The ball was bound to give him a good lead\nin the race once more, despite the heavy handicap the Stock Exchange\n", "perturbed,\nfinally saw Brewster and his companions. He sent a messenger over with\nthe request that Monty come to the president's private office at once.\n\n\"He wants to help you to save your money,\" cried Bragdon in low tones.\n\"That shows it's all up.\"\n\n\"Get out every dollar of it, Monty, and don't waste a minute. It's a\nsmash as sure as fate,\" urged Harrison, a feverish expression in his\neyes.\n\nBrewster was admitted to the Colonel's private", "reckless extravagance. They were worried.\n\n\"He's like a sailor in port,\" protested Harrison. \"Money is no object\nif he wants a thing, and--damn it--he seems to want everything he sees.\"\n\n\"It won't last long,\" Gardner said, reassuringly. \"Like his namesake,\nMonte Cristo, the world is his just now and he wants to enjoy it.\"\n\n\"He wants to get rid of it, it seems to me.\"\n\nWhenever they reproached Brewster about the matter he", "full term of the lease and I am engaged to sail her with my crew until\nthe tenth of next September.\"\n\n\"We understand your position, captain, and I am sure you appreciate\nours. It isn't that we want to end a very delightful cruise, but that\nwe regard it as sheer folly for Mr. Brewster to extend the tour at such\ntremendous expense. He is--or was--a rich man, but it is impossible to\nignore the fact that he is plunging much too heavily. In plain words,\nwe want to keep him from spending more", ".\n\n\"Well, I fancy I can wait,\" said Brewster with a smile that cleared the\nair.\n\n\"But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million. Do\nyou forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?\"\n\n\"But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?\" asked Mr. Grant, mildly.\n\n\"Why, by the simple process of destruction. Don't you suppose I can get\nrid of a million", "had imposed. The \"Little Sons\" took off their coats and helped\nPettingill in the work of preparation. He found them quite superfluous,\nfor their ideas never agreed and each man had a way of preferring his\nown suggestion. To Brewster's chagrin they were united in the effort to\ncurb his extravagance.\n\n\"He'll be giving automobiles and ropes of pearls for favors if we don't\nstop him,\" said \"Subway\" Smith, after Monty had ordered a vintage\nchampagne to be", "going to prove that my\ngrandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come out on top.\"\n\nRipley was obviously moved as he replied, \"I don't question it for a\nmoment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may\ncount on us to-morrow for any amount you need.\"\n\nGrant endorsed the opinion. \"I like your spirit, Brewster,\" he said.\n\"There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty\nhard on you, too, and it'", "drawing out your\ndeposit, but I want you to help us in this crucial moment.\" The Colonel\nlooked twenty years older and his voice shook perceptibly. Brewster's\npity went out to him in a flash.\n\n\"What can I do, Colonel Drew?\" he cried. \"I'll not take my money out,\nbut I don't know how I can be of further assistance to you. Command me,\nsir.\"\n\n\"You can restore absolute confidence, Monty, my dear boy, by increasing\nyour deposits in our bank,\" said the", ". Quick to see an opportunity, and\ncajoling himself into the belief that Swearengen Jones could not object\nto such a display of sportsmanship, Brewster made Harrison book several\ngood wagers on the result. He intimated that he had reason to believe\nthat the favorite would lose. Harrison soon placed three thousand\ndollars on his man. The young financier felt so sure of the result that\nhe entered the bets on the profit side of his ledger the moment he\nreceived Harrison's report.\n\nThis done, he telephoned Miss Drew", "share all his\nsecrets with her, that is why he did not tell her that Grant & Ripley\nhad called him up to report the receipt of a telegram from Swearengen\nJones, in which the gentleman laconically said he could feed the whole\nState of Montana for less than six thousand dollars. Beyond that there\nwas no comment. Brewster, in dire trepidation, hastened to the office\nof the attorneys. They smiled when he burst in upon them.\n\n\"Good heavens!\" he exclaimed, \"does the miserly old hay" ], [ "Brewster began a career that would have\nstartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the\n\"Little Sons of the Rich,\" he asked his friends to dinner and opened\ntheir eyes.\n\n\"Champagne!\" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. \"I can't\nremember the last time I had champagne.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" laughed \"Subway\" Smith. \"You couldn't remember anything\nafter that.\"\n\nAs the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to double\nhis fortune within a year. \"", "of the cuisine\nand personal service. And he had found it simple enough to spend the\nremaining $1,080. There were days, of course, when fully $5,000\ndisappeared, and there were others on which he spent much less than\n$1,000, but the average was secure. Taking everything into\nconsideration, Brewster found that his fortune had dwindled to a few\npaltry thousands in addition to the proceeds which would come to him\nfrom the sale of his furniture. On the whole he was satisfied.\n\nThe", ".\n\n\"Well, I fancy I can wait,\" said Brewster with a smile that cleared the\nair.\n\n\"But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million. Do\nyou forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?\"\n\n\"But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?\" asked Mr. Grant, mildly.\n\n\"Why, by the simple process of destruction. Don't you suppose I can get\nrid of a million", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", "veyed to his mind a perfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act\nof putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.\n\n\"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montana\nstandard of extravagance,\" Brewster said to himself. \"I wonder if he\never sees the New York papers.\"\n\nLate each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to his\nbedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,\nwith a pencil and a pad of", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "reckless extravagance. They were worried.\n\n\"He's like a sailor in port,\" protested Harrison. \"Money is no object\nif he wants a thing, and--damn it--he seems to want everything he sees.\"\n\n\"It won't last long,\" Gardner said, reassuringly. \"Like his namesake,\nMonte Cristo, the world is his just now and he wants to enjoy it.\"\n\n\"He wants to get rid of it, it seems to me.\"\n\nWhenever they reproached Brewster about the matter he", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "greater delight than to share it with them. To walk into the little\ndrawing-room and serenely lay large sums before them as their own\nseemed such a natural proceeding that he refused to see an obstacle.\nBut he knew it was there; the proffer of such a gift to Mrs. Gray would\nmean a wound to the pride inherited from haughty generations of men\nsufficient unto themselves. There was a small but troublesome mortgage\non the house, a matter of two or three thousand dollars, and Brewster\ntried to evolve a plan by which he", "the sum in advance. But when he reported this bit of economy to Mr.\nBrewster he was surprised that it brought forth a frown. \"I never saw a\nman who had less sense about money,\" muttered \"Nopper\" to himself.\n\"Why, he spends it like a Chicago millionaire trying to get into New\nYork society. If it were not for the rest of us he'd be a pauper in six\nmonths.\"\n\nPaul Pettingill, to his own intense surprise and, it must be said,\nconsternation, was engaged to re", "rid of my grandfather's million in short order.\" Brewster's voice rang\ntrue now. The zest of life was coming back.\n\nMr. Grant leaned forward slowly and his intent, penetrating gaze served\nas a check to the young fellow's enthusiasm.\n\n\"I admire and approve the sagacity which urges you to exchange a paltry\nmillion for a fortune, but it seems to me that you are forgetting the\nconditions,\" he said, slowly. \"Has it occurred to you that it will be\nno easy task to spend a million dollars without in some way", ". In fact,\nhe once said he'd give a million of his own money if it would purchase\nyour ability to spend one-fourth of it.\"\n\n\"Well, he can have my experience free of charge. A beggar can't be a\nchooser, you know,\" said Brewster, bitterly. His color was gradually\ncoming back. \"What do they know about the secretary?\" he asked,\nsuddenly, intent and alive.\n\n\"He was a new one, I understand, who came to Jones less than a year\nago. Jones is said to have had", "had imposed. The \"Little Sons\" took off their coats and helped\nPettingill in the work of preparation. He found them quite superfluous,\nfor their ideas never agreed and each man had a way of preferring his\nown suggestion. To Brewster's chagrin they were united in the effort to\ncurb his extravagance.\n\n\"He'll be giving automobiles and ropes of pearls for favors if we don't\nstop him,\" said \"Subway\" Smith, after Monty had ordered a vintage\nchampagne to be", "cost Brewster at least $125,000. The \"Little Sons\" looked at one\nanother in consternation, while Brewster's indifference expressed\nitself in an unflattering comment upon his friend's vulgarity. \"Good\nLord, Nopper,\" he added, \"you would speculate about the price of gloves\nfor your wedding.\"\n\nHarrison resented the taunt. \"It would be much less vulgar to do that,\nMonty, saving your presence, than to force your millions down every\none's", "the heir\nto be absolutely penniless upon the twenty-sixth anniversary of his\nbirth, September 23d.\n\nThe instrument went into detail in respect to this supreme condition.\nIt set forth that Montgomery Brewster was to have no other worldly\npossession than the clothes which covered him on the September day\nnamed. He was to begin that day without a penny to his name, without a\nsingle article of jewelry, furniture or finance that he could call his\nown or could thereafter reclaim. At nine o'clock, New York time, on the", "Where did you get that tip?\" asked he.\n\n\"Tip? What tip?\" from Brewster.\n\n\"On the prize-fight?\"\n\nBrewster's face fell and something cold crept over him.\n\n\"How did--what was the result?\" he asked, sure of the answer.\n\n\"Haven't you heard? Your man knocked him out in the fifth\nround--surprised everybody.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nNAPOLEON OF FINANCE\n\n\nThe next two months were busy ones for Brewster. Miss", "share all his\nsecrets with her, that is why he did not tell her that Grant & Ripley\nhad called him up to report the receipt of a telegram from Swearengen\nJones, in which the gentleman laconically said he could feed the whole\nState of Montana for less than six thousand dollars. Beyond that there\nwas no comment. Brewster, in dire trepidation, hastened to the office\nof the attorneys. They smiled when he burst in upon them.\n\n\"Good heavens!\" he exclaimed, \"does the miserly old hay" ], [ "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "of his money on this cruise. Do\nyou understand our position, Captain Perry?\"\n\n\"Fully. I wish with all my soul that I could help you and him. My hands\nare tied by contract, however, much as I regret it at this moment.\"\n\n\"How does the crew feel about this additional trip, captain?\" asked\nDeMille.\n\n\"They shipped for five months and will receive five months' pay. The\nmen have been handsomely treated and they will stick to Mr. Brewster to\nthe end,\" said the captain.\n\n\"There is no chance for", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "boats, and there was intense excitement on board. A gasp of\namazement went up from every one.\n\nMonty Brewster, drenched but smiling, sat in one of the boats, and\nleaning limply against him, his head on his chest, was the sailor who\nhad fallen overboard. Brewster had seen the man in the water and,\ninstead of wondering what his antecedents were, leaped to his\nassistance. When the boat reached him his unconscious burden was a dead\nweight and his own strength was almost gone. Another minute or two and\nboth", "full term of the lease and I am engaged to sail her with my crew until\nthe tenth of next September.\"\n\n\"We understand your position, captain, and I am sure you appreciate\nours. It isn't that we want to end a very delightful cruise, but that\nwe regard it as sheer folly for Mr. Brewster to extend the tour at such\ntremendous expense. He is--or was--a rich man, but it is impossible to\nignore the fact that he is plunging much too heavily. In plain words,\nwe want to keep him from spending more", "\near as he sat perched on the shoulders of his shipmates. \"I was luckier\nthan I thought in saving your life that day.\"\n\n\"It wasn't anything, Mr. Brewster,\" said young Conroy. \"I saw a chance\nto drop the big nigger, and then it was up to me to get her out of the\nwater.\"\n\n\"You took a big risk, Conroy, but you made good with it. If it had not\nbeen for you, my boy, they might have got away with Miss Gray.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it", "yacht would sail for Boston and that he would be kept a\nprisoner for the entire voyage unless he submitted to the will of the\nmajority.\n\nBrewster listened darkly to the proclamation. He saw that they had\ngained the upper hand by a clever ruse, and that only strategy on his\npart could outwit them. It was out of the question for him to submit to\nthem now that the controversy had assumed the dignity of a struggle.\n\n\"But you will be reasonable, won't you?\" asked DeMille, anxiously.\n\n\"", "By this\ntime the abductors had scattered like sheep without a leader, and as\nthere was no further object in pursuing them the little American fleet\nput back for the yacht in great haste. Peggy was quite conscious when\ncarried aboard by the triumphant Brewster. The words he whispered to\nher as she lay in the bottom of the boat were enough to give her life.\n\nThe excitement on board the \"Flitter\" was boundless. Fear gave way to\njoy, and where despair had for a moment reigned supreme, there was now\nthe most insane delight.", "\"Dan DeMille, you are quite foolish,\" cried his wife. \"Who ever\nconceived such a ridiculous idea?\"\n\n\"Captain Perry has his instructions,\" continued DeMille, turning to the\ncaptain. \"Are we not acting along the lines marked out by Brewster\nhimself?\"\n\n\"I will sail for Boston if you say the word,\" said the thoughtful\ncaptain. \"But he is sure to countermand such an order.\"\n\n\"He won't be able to, captain,\" cried \"Subway\" Smith, who had for some\ntime been", "is wise.\"\n\nAn hour later the meeting broke up and the conspirators made their way\nto the deck. It was a strange fact that no one went alone. They were in\ngroups of three and four and the mystery that hung about them was\nalmost perceptible. Not one was willing to face the excited, buoyant\nBrewster without help; they found strength and security in\ncompanionship.\n\nPeggy was the one rebel against the conspiracy, and yet she knew that\nthe others were justified in the step they proposed to take. She\nreluctantly joined them", "ports at times and then plunging violently away from them. For some\nminutes she listened, frantically clutching Brewster's door and the\nwall-rail. There was no guard, and the tumult of the sea drowned every\nsound within. Her imagination ran riot when her repeated calls were not\nanswered.\n\n\"Monty, Monty,\" she cried, pounding wildly on the door.\n\n\"Who is it? What is the trouble?\" came in muffled tones from within,\nand Peggy breathed a prayer of thanks. Just", "as a shield for that of her captor. Brewster and\nBragdon recognized the man as one of Mohammed's principal retainers, a\nfierce-looking fellow who had attracted more than usual attention on\nthe day of the sheik's visit.\n\n\"For God's sake, don't kill her!\" cried Brewster in agonized tones.\nThere was a diabolical grin on the face of the Arab, who was about to\nshout back some defiant taunt when the unexpected happened.\n\nThe sharp crack of a gun sounded in the stern", "he went on,\ncalmly. There was a chorus of cries and Brewster was forgotten for a\ntime. \"One of the sailors, you know. He was doing something in the\nrigging near where I was standing. Puff! off he went into the sea, and\nthere he was puttering around in the water.\"\n\n\"Oh, the poor fellow,\" cried Miss Valentine.\n\n\"I'd never set eyes on him before--perfect stranger. I wouldn't have\nhesitated a minute, but the deck was crowded with a lot of his friends.", "a dear to help me keep my\nappointment.\"\n\n\"Seems to me you helped yourself,\" she cried after him as he darted up\nthe steps. \"Come up for tea some day and tell me who the lady is.\"\n\nAfter he had gone Miss Drew turned to her chauffeur, who was in the\ntonneau. Then she laughed unrestrainedly, and the faintest shadow of a\ngrin stole over the man's face.\n\n\"Beg pardon, Miss,\" he said, \"but I'd back Mr. Brewster against", "do is to cheer up the women and trust to luck.\"\n\n\"You're the nerviest mate I ever shipped with, Mr. Brewster,\" and the\ncaptain's hand gripped Monty's in a way that meant things. It was a\ntribute he appreciated.\n\nDuring the day Monty devoted himself to his guests, and at the first\nsign of pensiveness he was ready with a jest or a story. But he did it\nall with a tact that inspired the crowd as a whole with hope, and no\none suspected that he himself was not cheerful.", "to the\nwater almost as the two toppled overboard.\n\nMonty Brewster was in the water an instant later, striking out for the\nspot where they had disappeared, a little to the left of the course in\nwhich his boat was running. There was a rattle of firearms, with curses\nand cheers, but he paid no heed to these sounds. He was a length or two\nbehind the sailor, praying with all his soul that one or the other\nmight succeed in reaching the white robes that still kept the surface\nof the water. His crew was", "landing in New York and the separation which followed were not\nentirely merry. Every discomfort was forgotten and the travelers only\nknew that the most wonderful cruise since that of the ark had come to\nan end. There was not one who would not have been glad to begin it\nagain the next day.\n\nImmediately after the landing Brewster and Gardner were busy with the\ndetails of settlement. After clearing up all of the obligations arising\nfrom the cruise, they felt the appropriateness of a season of\nreflection. It was a difficult moment--a moment when und", "from one side just as Brewster entered\nfrom the other. Stupefaction halted them. After the first pulseless\nmoment of horror, exclamations of dismay went up on all sides. For\nMonty Brewster the first sensation of regret was followed by a\ndiabolical sense of joy.\n\n\"Thank the Lord!\" he said softly in the hush.\n\nThe look of surprise he encountered in the faces of his guests brought\nhim up with a jerk.\n\n\"That it didn't happen while we were dining,\" he added with serene\nthankfulness", ", Mr. Brewster, it was nothing to do,\" protested\nConroy in confusion. \"I'd do anything in the world for you and for her.\"\n\n\"What is the adage about casting your bread upon the water and getting\nit back again?\" asked \"Rip\" Van Winkle of Joe Bragdon as they\njubilantly followed the procession below.\n\nThere was no more sleep on board that night. In fact the sun was not\nlong in showing itself after the rescuers returned to the vessel. The\ndaring attempt of Mohammed's emiss", "close behind him. Three sharp little whistles\ncame from above and behind them, but before they had time even to\nspeculate as to their meaning the result was in evidence.\n\nOver the sides of the ship came shadowy forms as if by magic; at their\nbacks panther-like bodies dropped to the deck with stealthy thuds, as\nif coming from the inky sky above. There was an instant of dreadful\ncalm and then the crisis. A dozen sinewy forms hurled themselves upon\nBrewster, who, taken completely by surprise, was thrown to the" ], [ "a dear to help me keep my\nappointment.\"\n\n\"Seems to me you helped yourself,\" she cried after him as he darted up\nthe steps. \"Come up for tea some day and tell me who the lady is.\"\n\nAfter he had gone Miss Drew turned to her chauffeur, who was in the\ntonneau. Then she laughed unrestrainedly, and the faintest shadow of a\ngrin stole over the man's face.\n\n\"Beg pardon, Miss,\" he said, \"but I'd back Mr. Brewster against", "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "--the\nunworthy one.\"\n\n\"I will take you a little farther into our confidence, Brewster,\" said\nGrant, slowly. \"Mr. Jones notified us at the beginning that he would be\ngoverned largely in his decision by our opinion of your conduct. That\nis why we felt no hesitation in advising you to continue as you were\ngoing. While you were off at sea, we had many letters from him, all in\nthat sarcastic vein of his, but in none of them did he offer a word of\ncriticism. He seemed thoroughly satisfied with your methods", "y Brewster, right now, that I am quite able to\nchoose my friends, and to handle them. Mr. Grimes has character and I\nlike him. He has seen more of life in a year of his strenuous career\nthan you ever dreamed of in all your pampered existence. His life has\nbeen real, Monty Brewster, and yours is only an imitation.\"\n\nIt struck him hard, but it left him gentle.\n\n\"Babs,\" he said, softly, \"I can't take that from you. You don't really\nmean", "taunt and Mrs. Dan's\nopen criticism told plainly enough how the wind was blowing, but it was\nPeggy's gentle questions that cut the deepest. There was such honest\nconcern in her voice that he could see how his profligacy was troubling\nher and Mrs. Gray. In their eyes, more than in the others, he felt\nashamed and humiliated. Finally, goaded by the remark of a bank\ndirector which he overheard, \"Edwin P. Brewster is turning handsprings\nin his grave over the way he is", "going to prove that my\ngrandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come out on top.\"\n\nRipley was obviously moved as he replied, \"I don't question it for a\nmoment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may\ncount on us to-morrow for any amount you need.\"\n\nGrant endorsed the opinion. \"I like your spirit, Brewster,\" he said.\n\"There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty\nhard on you, too, and it'", "a good sportsman, a man among\nmen, because he had a decent respect for himself and no great aversion\nto work.\n\nHis father and mother had both died while he was still a child, and, as\nif to make up for his long relentlessness, the grandfather had taken\nthe boy to his own house and had cared for him with what he called\naffection. After college and some months on the continent, however,\nMonty had preferred to be independent. Old Mr. Brewster had found him a\nplace in the bank, but beyond this and occasional dinners, Monty", "akes of his fortune.\"\n\nThere was something in the Colonel's manner that softened Brewster,\nmuch as he hated to take a reproof from Barbara's father. Once again he\nwas tempted to tell the truth, but he pulled himself up in time. \"It's\na funny old world, Colonel,\" he said; \"and sometimes one's nearest\nfriend is a stranger. I know I seem a fool; but, after all, why isn't\nit good philosophy to make the most of a holiday and then settle back\nto work?\"\n\n\"That is all", "yacht would sail for Boston and that he would be kept a\nprisoner for the entire voyage unless he submitted to the will of the\nmajority.\n\nBrewster listened darkly to the proclamation. He saw that they had\ngained the upper hand by a clever ruse, and that only strategy on his\npart could outwit them. It was out of the question for him to submit to\nthem now that the controversy had assumed the dignity of a struggle.\n\n\"But you will be reasonable, won't you?\" asked DeMille, anxiously.\n\n\"", "confidence in himself was fast\nreturning. \"This is no time to throw bouquets.\"\n\n\"We like you, Brewster.\" Mr. Valentine came to the chairman's\nassistance because the others had looked at him so appealingly. \"We\nlike you so well that we can't take the responsibility for your\nextravagance. It would disgrace us all.\"\n\n\"That side of the matter was never mentioned,\" cried Peggy indignantly,\nand then added with a catch in her voice, \"We thought only of you.\"\n\n\"I appreciate your mot", "do is to cheer up the women and trust to luck.\"\n\n\"You're the nerviest mate I ever shipped with, Mr. Brewster,\" and the\ncaptain's hand gripped Monty's in a way that meant things. It was a\ntribute he appreciated.\n\nDuring the day Monty devoted himself to his guests, and at the first\nsign of pensiveness he was ready with a jest or a story. But he did it\nall with a tact that inspired the crowd as a whole with hope, and no\none suspected that he himself was not cheerful.", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", "eager to join in the conversation. \"This is a genuine,\ndyed-in-the-wool mutiny and we expect to carry out the original plan,\nwhich was to put Mr. Brewster in irons, until we are safe from all\nopposition.\"\n\n\"He is my friend, Mr. Smith, and at least it is my duty to protect him\nfrom any indignity,\" said the captain, stiffly.\n\n\"You make for Boston, my dear captain, and we'll do the rest,\" said\nDeMille. \"Mr. Brewster can't", ". And his nonchalance scored for him in the idle game he\nwas playing.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nA LESSON IN TACT\n\n\nMr. Brewster's butler was surprised and annoyed. For the first time in\nhis official career he had unbent so far as to manifest a personal\ninterest in the welfare of his master. He was on the verge of assuming\na responsibility which makes any servant intolerable. But after his\ninterview he resolved that he would never again overstep his position.\nHe made sure that it should be", "veyed to his mind a perfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act\nof putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.\n\n\"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montana\nstandard of extravagance,\" Brewster said to himself. \"I wonder if he\never sees the New York papers.\"\n\nLate each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to his\nbedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,\nwith a pencil and a pad of", "\n\n\"Well, if Monty Brewster is still in love with Miss Drew he takes a\nmighty poor way of showing it.\" \"Subway\" Smith's remark fell like a\nbombshell. The thought had come to every one, but no one had been given\nthe courage to utter it. For them Brewster's silence on the subject\nsince the DeMille dinner seemed to have something ominous behind it.\n\n\"It's probably only a lovers' quarrel,\" said Bragdon. But further\ncomment was cut short by the entrance of Monty", "first few wrenches\nof resentment were overbalanced by her American appreciation of\nchivalry, however inspired. \"The Censor\" had gone for years unpunished;\nhis coarse wit being aimed at every one who had come into social\nprominence. So pungent and vindictive was his pen that other men feared\nhim, and there were many who lived in glass houses in terror of a\nfusilade. Brewster's prompt and sufficient action had checked the\npernicious attacks, and he became a hero among men and women. After\n", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "is wise.\"\n\nAn hour later the meeting broke up and the conspirators made their way\nto the deck. It was a strange fact that no one went alone. They were in\ngroups of three and four and the mystery that hung about them was\nalmost perceptible. Not one was willing to face the excited, buoyant\nBrewster without help; they found strength and security in\ncompanionship.\n\nPeggy was the one rebel against the conspiracy, and yet she knew that\nthe others were justified in the step they proposed to take. She\nreluctantly joined them" ], [ "Monty,\" she said, \"but I'm wondering\nwhether I care enough to--to marry you.\"\n\n\"We haven't known each other very long, Babs,\" he said, tenderly, \"but\nI think we know each other well enough to be beyond wondering.\"\n\n\"It is like you to manage the whole thing,\" she said, chidingly. \"Can't\nyou give me time to convince myself that I love you as you would like,\nand as I must love if I expect to be happy with the man I marry?\"\n\n\"I forgot myself,\"", "go below and pack my belongings that they\nmay be sent ashore?\" she asked naively.\n\n\"Thunder!\" gasped Monty. \"That's no way to turn him down.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Monty Brewster?\" she cried, turning upon him with\nflashing eyes.\n\n\"Why, you're encouraging the old guy,\" he protested, disappointment in\nevery inflection.\n\n\"And what if I am? Isn't it my affair? I think I am right in suspecting\nthat he has asked me to be his wife. Isn", "y,\" she added, more softly, \"this sort of thing\nfrom me? I know I ought not to interfere, but I've known you so long.\nAnd I hate to see things twisted by a very little mistake.\"\n\nBut Monty did mind enormously. He had no desire to talk about the thing\nanyway, and Peggy's anxiety to marry him off seemed a bit unnecessary.\nManifestly her own interest in him was of the coldest. From out of the\ngloom he looked at her somewhat sullenly. For the moment she was\nthinking only", "invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As\nhe came aboard the \"Flitter,\" Monty believed the invitation was more\nthan justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so\nmuch of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell\ndesperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the\ncomposure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for\nBrewster the next day and told him to \"send her around\" and he would\nmarry her. Monty's", "conscious of this? How\ncould she have turned against him? He would not understand--of course\nhe would never understand. And he would hate her with the others--more\nthan the others. It was all a wretched muddle and she could not see her\nway out of it.\n\nMonty found his guests very difficult. They listened to his plans with\nbut little interest, and he could not but see that they were\nuncomfortable. The situation was new to their experience, and they were\nunder a strain. \"They mope around like a lot of pouting boys and\n", "be\nconsidered. I can live only in the hope that when I come to you again\nwith this same story and this same question you'll not be afraid to\ntrust yourself to me.\"\n\n\"You deserve to be happy for that, Monty,\" she said, earnestly, and it\nwas with difficulty that she kept her eyes from wavering as they looked\ninto his.\n\n\"You will let me try to make you love me?\" he asked, eagerly.\n\n\"I may not be worth the struggle.\"\n\n\"I'll take that chance,\" he replied", "'t it my privilege to accept\nhim if I wish?\"\n\nBrewster's face was a study. He could not believe that she was in\nearnest, but there was a ghastly feeling that the joke was being turned\non him. The rest of the company stared hard at the flushed Peggy and\nbreathlessly waited developments.\n\n\"It won't do to trifle with this chap, Peggy,\" said Monty, coming quite\nclose to her. \"Don't lead him on. He might get nasty if he thinks\nyou're making", "\n\"Oh, don't worry about him,\" said \"Subway,\" easily; \"Monty's at least a\ngood sportsman. He won't complain, whatever happens. He'll accept the\nreckoning and pay the piper.\"\n\nIt was only toward the end of the evening that Monty found his reward\nin a moment with Barbara Drew. He stood before her, squaring his\nshoulders belligerently to keep away intruders, and she smiled up at\nhim in that bewildering fashion of hers. But it was only for an\ninstant, and", "he said, humbly.\n\n\"You forgot me,\" she protested, gently, touched by this sign of\ncontrition. \"I do care for you, Monty, but don't you see it's no little\nthing you ask of me? I must be sure--very sure--before I--before--\"\n\n\"Don't be so distressed,\" he pleaded. \"You will love me, I know,\nbecause you love me now. This means much to me, but it means more to\nyou. You are the woman and you are the one whose happiness should", "ily. \"This has gone far enough.\"\n\n\"You should have spoken sooner, Monty,\" she said quietly.\n\n\"What are you going to do, Margaret?\" cried Mrs. Dan, her eyes wide\nwith amazement.\n\n\"I am going to marry the Son of the Prophet,\" she replied so decidedly\nthat every one gasped. A moment later she was surrounded by a group of\nexcited women, and Captain Perry was calling the \"jackies\" forward in a\nvoice of thunder.\n\nBrewster pushed his way to her side, his face as white as death", "Monty would not\naccept advice. That he was mistaken about Barbara's feeling she did not\ndoubt for a moment, and she saw things going hopelessly wrong for want\nof a word. There were times when she let herself dream of\npossibilities, but they always ended by seeming too impossible. She\ncared too much to make the attainment of her vision seem simple. She\ncared too much to be sure of anything.\n\nAt moments she fancied that she might say a word to Miss Drew which\nwould straighten things out. But there was something about", "Peggy?\" he asked of Van Winkle.\n\n\"Not yet. She is dressing for the occasion.\"\n\n\"Well, wait and see what happens to him when she gets over the first\nshock,\" laughed Monty.\n\nJust then the sheik discovered Peggy, who, pretty as a picture, drew\nnear the strange group. To her amazement two slaves rushed forward and\nobstructed her passage long enough to beat their heads on the deck a\nfew times, after which they arose and tendered two magnificent\nnecklaces. She was prepared for the proposal,", "brain was whirling, and for the first time he was beginning to feel\nthe unpleasant pangs of jealousy. The Duke of Beauchamp he especially\ndisliked, although the poor man had hardly spoken during the dinner.\nBut Monty could not be reconciled. He knew, of course, that Barbara had\nsuitors by the dozen, but it had never occurred to him that they were\neven seriously considered. Notwithstanding the fact that his encounter\nwith \"The Censor\" had brought her into undesirable notice, she forgave\nhim everything after a moment's consideration. The", "ely she put it on.\n\n\"Monty, I forget nothing that I really know. But this is a case in\nwhich you are quite wrong. Where is your sporting blood? You have never\nfought a losing fight before, and you can't do it now. You have lost\nyour nerve, Monty. Don't you see that this is the time for an\naggressive campaign?\" Somehow she was not saying things at all as she\nhad planned to say them. And his gloom weighed heavily upon her. \"You\ndon't mind, do you, Mont", "you really must not.\"\n\n\"Why, what's mine is yours--\" he began.\n\n\"I know you are generous, Monty, and I know you have a heart. You want\nus to--to take some of your money,\"--it was not easy to say it, and as\nfor Monty, he could only look at the floor. \"We cannot, Monty,\ndear,--you must never speak of it again. Mamma and I had a feeling that\nyou would do it. But don't you see,--even from you it is an offer of", "antries, Monty, I ought to do much. I'm\nyour friend through thick and thin. You have only to command me.\"\n\n\"It was precisely to get your help that I came in. I'm tired of those\nconfounded dinners. You know yourself that they are all alike--the same\npeople, the same flowers, the same things to eat, and the same inane\ntwaddle in the shape of talk. Who cares about them anyway?\"\n\n\"Well, I like that,\" she interrupted. \"After all the thought I put into\nthose dinners,", "to heart, Peggy,\" said Monty, seriously. \"I'm pretty\nhard hit, and I want your help. A sister's advice is always the best in\na matter of this sort.\"\n\nShe looked into his eyes dully for an instant, not realizing the full\nimportance of his confession.\n\n\"You, Monty?\" she said, incredulously.\n\n\"I've got it bad, Peggy,\" he replied, staring hard at the floor. She\ncould not understand the cold, gray tone that suddenly enveloped the\nroom. The strange sense of", "a little hot. \"Perhaps you have\nnever discovered that girls say many things to hide their emotions.\nPerhaps you don't realize what feverish, exclamatory, foolish things\ngirls are. They don't know how to be honest with the men they love, and\nthey wouldn't if they did. You are little short of an idiot, Monty\nBrewster, if you believed the things she said rather than the things\nshe looked.\"\n\nAnd Peggy, fiery and determined and defiantly unhappy, threw down her\ncards and escaped so that she might not", "he said, \"my daughter is awfully cut up about\nthis business. She is plucky and tries not to show it, but after all a\ngirl doesn't get over that sort of thing all in a moment. I am not\nsaying\"--it seemed necessary to recede a step \"that it would be an easy\nmatter to patch up. But I like you, Monty, and if any man could do it,\nyou can.\"\n\n\"Colonel, I wish I might,\" and Brewster found that he did not hesitate.\n\"For your sake I very much wish", "it, do you? Am I as bad as that?\"\n\nIt was a moment for dominance, and he missed it. His gentleness left\nher cold.\n\n\"Monty,\" she exclaimed irritably, \"you are terribly exasperating. Do\nmake up your mind that you and your million are not the only things in\nthe world.\"\n\nHis blood was up now, but it flung him away from her.\n\n\"Some day, perhaps, you'll find out that there is not much besides. I\nam just a little too big, for one thing," ], [ "to heart, Peggy,\" said Monty, seriously. \"I'm pretty\nhard hit, and I want your help. A sister's advice is always the best in\na matter of this sort.\"\n\nShe looked into his eyes dully for an instant, not realizing the full\nimportance of his confession.\n\n\"You, Monty?\" she said, incredulously.\n\n\"I've got it bad, Peggy,\" he replied, staring hard at the floor. She\ncould not understand the cold, gray tone that suddenly enveloped the\nroom. The strange sense of", "expected. He laughingly denounced as untrue the stories that had\ncome to her from outside sources. And before his convincing assertions\nthat reports were ridiculously exaggerated, the troubled expression in\nthe girl's eyes disappeared.\n\n\"I must seem a fool,\" groaned Monty, as he left the house after one of\nthese explanatory trials, \"but what will she think of me toward the end\nof the year when I am really in harness?\" He found it hard to control\nthe desire to be straight with Peggy and tell her the story of his mad\nr", "of his\ncourse.\n\n\"Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me to be brave.\"\n\n\"When I asked you to marry me,\" he continued gravely, \"it was with the\nthought that I could give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a\nfortune. I never meant that you should marry a pauper.\"\n\n\"I don't understand. You tried to test my love for you?\"\n\n\"No, child, not that. But I was pledged not to speak of the money I\nexpected, and I wanted you so much", "silence was fraught with purpose.\nMonty glanced around the room, uncertain how to begin. It was not so\neasy as he had imagined.\n\n\"You are very good to see me,\" he said at last. \"It was absolutely\nnecessary for me to talk to you this evening; I could not have endured\nthe suspense any longer. Barbara, I've spent three or four sleepless\nnights on your account. Will it spoil your evening if I tell you in\nplain words what you already know? It won't bother you, will it?\" he\nfl", "Monty,\" she said.\n\n\"What are you doing in there?\" There was a long pause, and then came\nthe pitiful little wail: \"I am unpacking, please, sir.\"\n\nThat night Brewster entertained on board the yacht, several resident\nFrench and English acquaintances being the guests of honor. The story\nof the day was told by Mrs. Dan DeMille, commissioned especially for\nthe duty. She painted the scene so vividly that the guests laughed with\njoy over the discomfiture of the sheik. Peggy and Brewster found", "and I'll read aloud,\" was Monty's cheerful greeting as\nhe stood before her.\n\n\"No, I must go,\" said Peggy, confusedly. \"I thought you might be\nnervous about the storm--and--\"\n\n\"And you came to let me out?\" Monty had never been so happy.\n\n\"Yes, and I don't care what the others say. I thought you were\nsuffering--\" But at that moment the boat gave a lurch which threw her\nacross the threshold into Monty's arms. They", "y you once knew.\"\n\n\"The old Monty?\" she murmured softly, dreamily. \"It would be good to\nsee him--so much better than to see the Monty of the last year.\"\n\n\"And, in spite of all I have done, Peggy, you will stand by me? You\nwon't desert me like the rest? You'll be the same Peggy of the other\ndays?\" he cried, his calmness breaking down.\n\n\"How can you ask? Why should you doubt me?\"\n\nFor a moment they stood silent, each looking into the heart", ", Monty, isn't it a waste that no one\nelse should have seen it? Think of these poverty-stricken peasants who\nadore music and have never heard an opera.\"\n\n\"Well, they shall hear one now.\" Monty rose to it, but he felt like a\nhypocrite in concealing his chief motive. \"We'll repeat the performance\nto-morrow night and fill the house with them.\"\n\nHe was as good as his word. Bertier was given a task the next day which\nwas not to his taste. But with the assistance of", "turning to smile upon him from the\nupper landing. \"I was in tears half the night, Monty, over that glass\nscreen,\" she said, after finding a comfortable place among the cushions\nof a divan. Brewster dropped into a roomy, lazy chair in front of her\nand handed her a cigarette, as he responded carelessly:\n\n\"It amounted to nothing. Of course, it was very annoying that it should\nhappen while the guests were still there.\" Then he added, gravely: \"In\nstrict confidence, I had planned to have it fall just as we were\n", "instead there\nwas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and the\nworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of one\nwho has perfect control of his wits.\n\n\"Is it all--gone, Monty?\" she asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Here is the residue of my estate,\" he said, opening his purse with\nsteady fingers. \"I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The million\nis gone and my wings are clipped.\" Her face was white, her heart was in\nthe clutch", "not until Monty was summoned to rescue \"Reggie\" Vanderpool from\nthe stern arm of the law that he discovered the identity of\nPunchinello. Manifestly he had not been in a condition to recognize his\nassailant, and a subsequent disagreement had driven the first out of\nhis head. The poor boy was sadly bruised about the face and his arrest\nhad probably saved him from worse punishment.\n\n\"I told you I couldn't wear a mask,\" he explained ruefully as Monty led\nhim home. \"But how could I know that he could hear me", "conscious of this? How\ncould she have turned against him? He would not understand--of course\nhe would never understand. And he would hate her with the others--more\nthan the others. It was all a wretched muddle and she could not see her\nway out of it.\n\nMonty found his guests very difficult. They listened to his plans with\nbut little interest, and he could not but see that they were\nuncomfortable. The situation was new to their experience, and they were\nunder a strain. \"They mope around like a lot of pouting boys and\n", "\n\"Oh, don't worry about him,\" said \"Subway,\" easily; \"Monty's at least a\ngood sportsman. He won't complain, whatever happens. He'll accept the\nreckoning and pay the piper.\"\n\nIt was only toward the end of the evening that Monty found his reward\nin a moment with Barbara Drew. He stood before her, squaring his\nshoulders belligerently to keep away intruders, and she smiled up at\nhim in that bewildering fashion of hers. But it was only for an\ninstant, and", "to Monty, whose name\nusually meant an embarrassing change of subject, began to seem\npossible. It was inevitable that Peggy should bring it in; for with her\na question of tact was never allowed to dominate when things of moment\nwere at stake. She cowered before the plunge, but she took it unafraid.\n\n\"The doctor says Monty may go out driving to-morrow,\" she began. \"Isn't\nthat fine?\"\n\nBarbara's only response was to touch her pony a little too sharply with\nthe whip. Peg", "a still voice. \"As your friend I shall\ntry to be civil to him.\"\n\nThe Colonel was not satisfied with so cold-blooded an acquiescence, but\nhe wisely retired from the field. He left the girl silent and crushed,\nbut with a gleam in her eyes that was not altogether to be concealed.\nThe story had touched her more deeply than she would willingly confess.\nIt was something to know that Monty Brewster could do a thing like\nthat, and would do it for her. The exultant smile which it brought to\nher lips could only", "as a parting thrust before she walked away.\n\n\"There must be something more than we know about in Monty's\nextravagance,\" said Mrs. Dan. \"He isn't the kind of man to squander his\nlast penny without having something left to show for it. There must be\na method in his madness.\"\n\n\"He has done it for us,\" said Peggy. \"He has devoted himself all along\nto giving us a good time and now we are showing our gratitude.\"\n\nFurther discussion was prevented by the appearance of the conspiring\n", "in the end, but felt that she was the darkest\ntraitor in the crowd. Forgetting her own distress over the way in which\nMonty was squandering his fortune, she stood out the one defender of\nhis rights until the end and then admitted tearfully to Mrs. DeMille\nthat she had been \"quite unreasonable\" in doing so.\n\nAlone in her stateroom after signing the agreement, she wondered what\nhe would think of her. She owed him so much that she at least should\nhave stood by him. She felt that he would be", "She thinks that I am a hopeless, brainless idiot,\" he said to himself.\n\"And I don't blame her, either.\"\n\nJust before nightfall he noticed that his friends were assembling in\nthe bow. As he started to join the group \"Subway\" Smith and DeMille\nadvanced to meet him. Some of the others were smiling a little\nsheepishly, but the two men were pictures of solemnity and decision.\n\n\"Monty,\" said DeMille steadily, \"we have been conspiring against you\nand have decided that", "\n\n\"I feel like the boy who was shut in a closet for punishment and found\nit the place where they kept the jam,\" said \"Subway.\" \"It is almost as\ngood as owning Central Park.\"\n\nThe stables were well equipped and the days wore on in a wonderful\npeace. It was on a radiant afternoon, when twelve of the crowd had\nstarted out, after tea, for a long ride toward Lugano, that Monty\ndetermined to call Peggy Gray to account. He was certain that she had\ndeliberately avoided him for days and weeks", "oundered.\n\n\"What do you mean, Monty?\" she begged, purposely dense, and with\nwonderful control of her eyes.\n\n\"I love you, Babs,\" he cried. \"I thought you knew about it all along or\nI should have told you before. That's why I haven't slept. The fear\nthat you may not care for me has driven me nearly to distraction. It\ncouldn't go on any longer. I must know to-day.\"\n\nThere was a gleam in his eyes that made her pose of indifference" ], [ "turn over\nto Montgomery Brewster, the day after the will was probated, securities\nto the amount of one million dollars, provided for in clause four of\nthe instrument. And so it was that on the 26th of September young Mr.\nBrewster had an unconditional fortune thrust upon him, weighted only\nwith the suggestion of crepe that clung to it.\n\nSince his grandfather's death he had been staying at the gloomy old\nBrewster house in Fifth Avenue, paying but two or three hurried visits\nto the rooms at Mrs. Gray's", "Brewster.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Montgomery, somewhat puzzled. \"But why do you say that I\nam both fortunate and unfortunate?\"\n\n\"The situation is so remarkable that you'll consider that a mild way of\nputting it when you've heard everything. I think you were told, in our\nnote of yesterday, that you are the sole heir. Well, it may surprise\nyou to learn that James Sedgwick died possessed of an estate valued at\nalmost seven million dollars.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster sat like one petrified, staring blankly at the", "into a\nmillion or two. He had \"realized,\" as Oliver Harrison would have put\nit. Two days after his grandfather's funeral a final will and testament\nwas read, and, as was expected, the old banker atoned for the hardships\nRobert Brewster and his wife had endured by bequeathing one million\ndollars to their son Montgomery. It was his without a restriction,\nwithout an admonition, without an incumbrance. There was not a\nsuggestion as to how it should be handled by the heir. The", "accept what is already yours. I understand that\nthe money has been paid to you by Mr. Buskirk. You have a million\ndollars, Mr. Brewster, and it cannot be denied.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" agreed Montgomery, dejectedly. \"Really, Mr. Grant,\nthis proposition is too much for me. If you aren't required to give an\nimmediate answer, I want to think it over. It sounds like a dream.\"\n\n\"It is no dream, Mr. Brewster,\" smiled the lawyer. \"You are face to\nface with", ".\"\nOlder women were interested in him because his father and mother had\nmade a romantic runaway match, which was the talk of the town in the\nseventies, and had never been forgiven. Worldly women were interested\nin him because he was the only grandson of Edwin Peter Brewster, who\nwas many times a millionaire, and Monty was fairly certain to be his\nheir--barring an absent-minded gift to charity. Younger women were\ninterested for a much more obvious and simple reason: they liked him.\nMen also took to Monty because he was", "You must go to Grant & Ripley's at once, of course.\"\n\n\"Have you forgotten, Peggy,\" he replied, with a hint of vexation in his\nvoice, \"that we are to read 'Oliver Optic' this afternoon?\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nA SECOND\n\n\n\"You are both fortunate and unfortunate, Mr. Brewster,\" said Mr. Grant,\nafter the young man had dropped into a chair in the office of Grant &\nRipley the next day. Montgomery wore a slightly bored expression, and\nit was evident", "\nlooked up to find his listener eager, and again to find him grown\nindifferent. He wondered dimly if this were a pose.\n\nIn brief, the last will of James T. Sedgwick bequeathed everything,\nreal and personal, of which he died possessed, to his only nephew,\nMontgomery Brewster of New York, son of Robert and Louise Sedgwick\nBrewster. Supplementing this all-important clause there was a set of\nconditions governing the final disposition of the estate. The most\nextraordinary of these conditions was the one which required", "\nwill, and two nephews were cut off entirely; a very modest and\nimpecunious grandson of Joseph Garrity also was to sustain a severe\nchange of fortune in the near future, if the cards spoke correctly.\nJudge Van Woort, who was not expected to live through the night, got\nbetter immediately after hearing some one in the sick-room whisper that\nMontgomery Brewster was to give a big dinner. Naturally, the\nheirs-to-be condemned young Brewster in no uncertain terms.\n\nNevertheless, the dinner to be given by the", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "known that upon\none occasion he visited the office of his sister's enemy for the\npurpose of slaying him, but something prevented. He carried that hatred\nto the grave, as you will see.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster was trying to gather himself together from within\nthe fog which made himself and the world unreal.\n\n\"I believe I'd like to have you read this extraor--the will, Mr.\nGrant,\" he said, with an effort to hold his nerves in leash.\n\nMr. Grant cleared his throat and began in his still voice. Once he", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "a good sportsman, a man among\nmen, because he had a decent respect for himself and no great aversion\nto work.\n\nHis father and mother had both died while he was still a child, and, as\nif to make up for his long relentlessness, the grandfather had taken\nthe boy to his own house and had cared for him with what he called\naffection. After college and some months on the continent, however,\nMonty had preferred to be independent. Old Mr. Brewster had found him a\nplace in the bank, but beyond this and occasional dinners, Monty", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "BREWSTER, ESQ.,\n\nNew York.\n\nDear Sir:--We are in receipt of a communication from Mr. Swearengen\nJones of Montana, conveying the sad intelligence that your uncle, James\nT. Sedgwick, died on the 24th inst. at M-- Hospital in Portland, after\na brief illness. Mr. Jones by this time has qualified in Montana as the\nexecutor of your uncle's will and has retained us as his eastern\nrepresentatives. He incloses a copy of the will, in which you", "going to prove that my\ngrandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come out on top.\"\n\nRipley was obviously moved as he replied, \"I don't question it for a\nmoment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may\ncount on us to-morrow for any amount you need.\"\n\nGrant endorsed the opinion. \"I like your spirit, Brewster,\" he said.\n\"There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty\nhard on you, too, and it'", "things your\nown way every minute. In another month you will be quite spoiled.\nAnything to prevent that. My duty is plain. Even if I have to use\nheroic measures, you dine with me to-morrow.\"\n\nMonty recognized defeat when he met it, and graciously accepted her\nvery kind invitation. The next moment they drew up at the opera house\nand were ushered in with a deference accorded only to wealth. The\nsplendor of the effect was overpowering to Brewster as well as to his\nbewildered guests. Aladdin", "come to Mr. Brewster's house at once--if you can, sir--I mean, if you\nwill, sir,\" Ellis interjected apologetically. Then, with his gaze\ndirected steadily over the heads of the subdued \"Sons,\" he added,\nimpressively:\n\n\"Mr. Brewster is dead, sir.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nSHADES OF ALADDIN\n\n\nMontgomery Brewster no longer had \"prospects.\" People could not now\npoint him out with the remark that some day he would come", "announced.\n\n\"Is she pretty, waiter?\" called McCloud.\n\n\"He says he is Ellis, from your grandfather's, sir!\"\n\n\"My compliments to Ellis, and ask him to inform my grandfather that\nit's after banking hours. I'll see him in the morning,\" said Mr.\nBrewster, who had reddened under the jests of his companions.\n\n\"Grandpa doesn't want his Monty to stay out after dark,\" chuckled\nSubway Smith.\n\n\"It was most thoughtful of the old gentleman to", "veyed to his mind a perfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act\nof putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.\n\n\"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montana\nstandard of extravagance,\" Brewster said to himself. \"I wonder if he\never sees the New York papers.\"\n\nLate each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to his\nbedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,\nwith a pencil and a pad of", "business\ntraining the old man had given him was synonymous with conditions not\nexpressed in the will. The dead man believed that he had drilled into\nthe youth an unmistakable conception of what was expected of him in\nlife; if he failed in these expectations the misfortune would be his\nalone to bear; a road had been carved out for him and behind him\nstretched a long line of guide-posts whose laconic instructions might\nbe ignored but never forgotten. Edwin Peter Brewster evidently made his\nwill with the sensible conviction that it was necessary for him to die\nbefore" ], [ "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "business\ntraining the old man had given him was synonymous with conditions not\nexpressed in the will. The dead man believed that he had drilled into\nthe youth an unmistakable conception of what was expected of him in\nlife; if he failed in these expectations the misfortune would be his\nalone to bear; a road had been carved out for him and behind him\nstretched a long line of guide-posts whose laconic instructions might\nbe ignored but never forgotten. Edwin Peter Brewster evidently made his\nwill with the sensible conviction that it was necessary for him to die\nbefore", "principle which inspires a man to \"get his money's\nworth,\" be the expenditure great or small. As these conditions were\nprescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was\nevident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions\nafter the property had gone into his hands.\n\n\"How do you like it?\" asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to\nBrewster.\n\nThe latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who\nhad heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.", "\nlooked up to find his listener eager, and again to find him grown\nindifferent. He wondered dimly if this were a pose.\n\nIn brief, the last will of James T. Sedgwick bequeathed everything,\nreal and personal, of which he died possessed, to his only nephew,\nMontgomery Brewster of New York, son of Robert and Louise Sedgwick\nBrewster. Supplementing this all-important clause there was a set of\nconditions governing the final disposition of the estate. The most\nextraordinary of these conditions was the one which required", "was to\npreclude any possible chance of the mingling of his fortune with the\nsmallest portion of Edwin P. Brewster's that James Sedgwick, on his\ndeathbed, put his hand to this astonishing instrument.\n\nThere was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of\nMontgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth\nanniversary. He required that the young man should give satisfactory\nevidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs\nshrewdly and wisely,--that", "Brewster.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Montgomery, somewhat puzzled. \"But why do you say that I\nam both fortunate and unfortunate?\"\n\n\"The situation is so remarkable that you'll consider that a mild way of\nputting it when you've heard everything. I think you were told, in our\nnote of yesterday, that you are the sole heir. Well, it may surprise\nyou to learn that James Sedgwick died possessed of an estate valued at\nalmost seven million dollars.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster sat like one petrified, staring blankly at the", "turn over\nto Montgomery Brewster, the day after the will was probated, securities\nto the amount of one million dollars, provided for in clause four of\nthe instrument. And so it was that on the 26th of September young Mr.\nBrewster had an unconditional fortune thrust upon him, weighted only\nwith the suggestion of crepe that clung to it.\n\nSince his grandfather's death he had been staying at the gloomy old\nBrewster house in Fifth Avenue, paying but two or three hurried visits\nto the rooms at Mrs. Gray's", "violating\nthe restrictions in your uncle's will, thereby losing both fortunes?\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE MESSAGE FROM JONES\n\n\nA new point of view gradually came to Brewster. All his life had been\nspent in wondering how to get enough money to pay his bills, and it had\nnot occurred to him that it might be as difficult to spend as to\nacquire wealth. The thought staggered him for a moment. Then he cried\ntriumphantly, \"I can decline to accept grandfather's million.\"\n\n\"You cannot decline to", "you were the only child of your mother and therefore his\nonly nephew. He sets forth the dates of your mother's marriage, of your\nbirth, of the death of Robert Brewster and of Mrs. Brewster. He also\nwas aware of the fact that old Edwin Peter Brewster intended to\nbequeath a large fortune to you--and thereby hangs a tale. Sedgwick was\nproud. When he lived in New York, he was regarded as the kind of man\nwho never forgave the person who touched roughly upon his pride. You\nknow, of course, that", "to me?\"\n\n\"With a proviso.\"\n\n\"Ah!\"\n\n\"I have a copy of the will. Mr. Ripley and I are the only persons in\nNew York who at present know its contents. You, I am sure, after\nhearing it, will not divulge them without the most careful\ndeliberation.\"\n\nMr. Grant drew the document from a pigeon-hole in his desk, adjusted\nhis glasses and prepared to read. Then, as though struck by a sudden\nthought, he laid the paper down and turned once more to Brewster", "known that upon\none occasion he visited the office of his sister's enemy for the\npurpose of slaying him, but something prevented. He carried that hatred\nto the grave, as you will see.\"\n\nMontgomery Brewster was trying to gather himself together from within\nthe fog which made himself and the world unreal.\n\n\"I believe I'd like to have you read this extraor--the will, Mr.\nGrant,\" he said, with an effort to hold his nerves in leash.\n\nMr. Grant cleared his throat and began in his still voice. Once he", "--the\nunworthy one.\"\n\n\"I will take you a little farther into our confidence, Brewster,\" said\nGrant, slowly. \"Mr. Jones notified us at the beginning that he would be\ngoverned largely in his decision by our opinion of your conduct. That\nis why we felt no hesitation in advising you to continue as you were\ngoing. While you were off at sea, we had many letters from him, all in\nthat sarcastic vein of his, but in none of them did he offer a word of\ncriticism. He seemed thoroughly satisfied with your methods", "accept what is already yours. I understand that\nthe money has been paid to you by Mr. Buskirk. You have a million\ndollars, Mr. Brewster, and it cannot be denied.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" agreed Montgomery, dejectedly. \"Really, Mr. Grant,\nthis proposition is too much for me. If you aren't required to give an\nimmediate answer, I want to think it over. It sounds like a dream.\"\n\n\"It is no dream, Mr. Brewster,\" smiled the lawyer. \"You are face to\nface with", "\nwill, and two nephews were cut off entirely; a very modest and\nimpecunious grandson of Joseph Garrity also was to sustain a severe\nchange of fortune in the near future, if the cards spoke correctly.\nJudge Van Woort, who was not expected to live through the night, got\nbetter immediately after hearing some one in the sick-room whisper that\nMontgomery Brewster was to give a big dinner. Naturally, the\nheirs-to-be condemned young Brewster in no uncertain terms.\n\nNevertheless, the dinner to be given by the", "greater delight than to share it with them. To walk into the little\ndrawing-room and serenely lay large sums before them as their own\nseemed such a natural proceeding that he refused to see an obstacle.\nBut he knew it was there; the proffer of such a gift to Mrs. Gray would\nmean a wound to the pride inherited from haughty generations of men\nsufficient unto themselves. There was a small but troublesome mortgage\non the house, a matter of two or three thousand dollars, and Brewster\ntried to evolve a plan by which he", "going to prove that my\ngrandfather's blood is in me. And I shall come out on top.\"\n\nRipley was obviously moved as he replied, \"I don't question it for a\nmoment. You are made of the right stuff. I saw that long ago. You may\ncount on us to-morrow for any amount you need.\"\n\nGrant endorsed the opinion. \"I like your spirit, Brewster,\" he said.\n\"There are not many men who would have taken this as well. It's pretty\nhard on you, too, and it'", "anybody else could possess his money, and that, once dead, it\nwould be folly for him to worry over the way in which beneficiaries\nmight choose to manage their own affairs.\n\nThe house in Fifth Avenue went to a sister, together with a million or\ntwo, and the residue of the estate found kindly disposed relatives who\nwere willing to keep it from going to the Home for Friendless Fortunes.\nOld Mr. Brewster left his affairs in order. The will nominated Jerome\nBuskirk as executor, and he was instructed, in conclusion, to", "the heir\nto be absolutely penniless upon the twenty-sixth anniversary of his\nbirth, September 23d.\n\nThe instrument went into detail in respect to this supreme condition.\nIt set forth that Montgomery Brewster was to have no other worldly\npossession than the clothes which covered him on the September day\nnamed. He was to begin that day without a penny to his name, without a\nsingle article of jewelry, furniture or finance that he could call his\nown or could thereafter reclaim. At nine o'clock, New York time, on the", "\nmorning of September 23d, the executor, under the provisions of the\nwill, was to make over and transfer to Montgomery Brewster all of the\nmoneys, lands, bonds, and interests mentioned in the inventory which\naccompanied the will. In the event that Montgomery Brewster had not, in\nevery particular, complied with the requirements of the will, to the\nfull satisfaction of the said executor, Swearengen Jones, the estate\nwas to be distributed among certain institutions of charity designated\nin the instrument. Underlying this imperative injunction", "into a\nmillion or two. He had \"realized,\" as Oliver Harrison would have put\nit. Two days after his grandfather's funeral a final will and testament\nwas read, and, as was expected, the old banker atoned for the hardships\nRobert Brewster and his wife had endured by bequeathing one million\ndollars to their son Montgomery. It was his without a restriction,\nwithout an admonition, without an incumbrance. There was not a\nsuggestion as to how it should be handled by the heir. The" ], [ ".\n\n\"Well, I fancy I can wait,\" said Brewster with a smile that cleared the\nair.\n\n\"But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million. Do\nyou forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?\"\n\n\"Wouldn't you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?\"\n\n\"But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?\" asked Mr. Grant, mildly.\n\n\"Why, by the simple process of destruction. Don't you suppose I can get\nrid of a million", "Brewster began a career that would have\nstartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the\n\"Little Sons of the Rich,\" he asked his friends to dinner and opened\ntheir eyes.\n\n\"Champagne!\" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. \"I can't\nremember the last time I had champagne.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" laughed \"Subway\" Smith. \"You couldn't remember anything\nafter that.\"\n\nAs the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to double\nhis fortune within a year. \"", "concerned, he prepared for\nwhat was to be his one and only venture on the Stock Exchange before\nthe 23d of the following September. With all the cunning and craftiness\nof a general he laid his plans for the attack. Gardner's face was the\npicture of despair when Brewster asked him to buy heavily in Lumber and\nFuel.\n\n\"Good heavens, Monty,\" cried the broker, \"you're joking. Lumber is away\nup now. It can't possibly go a fraction of a point higher. Take my\nadvice and don'", "perturbed,\nfinally saw Brewster and his companions. He sent a messenger over with\nthe request that Monty come to the president's private office at once.\n\n\"He wants to help you to save your money,\" cried Bragdon in low tones.\n\"That shows it's all up.\"\n\n\"Get out every dollar of it, Monty, and don't waste a minute. It's a\nsmash as sure as fate,\" urged Harrison, a feverish expression in his\neyes.\n\nBrewster was admitted to the Colonel's private", "a slump was coming, and there was scarcely any trading\nin the stock. When Elon Gardner, acting for Montgomery Brewster; took\nten thousand shares at 108 3/4 there was a mighty gasp on the Exchange,\nthen a rubbing of eyes, then commotion. Astonishment was followed by\nnervousness, and then came the struggle.\n\nBrewster, confident that the stock could go no higher, and that sooner\nor later it must drop, calmly ordered his horse for a ride in the\nsnow-covered park.", "rid of my grandfather's million in short order.\" Brewster's voice rang\ntrue now. The zest of life was coming back.\n\nMr. Grant leaned forward slowly and his intent, penetrating gaze served\nas a check to the young fellow's enthusiasm.\n\n\"I admire and approve the sagacity which urges you to exchange a paltry\nmillion for a fortune, but it seems to me that you are forgetting the\nconditions,\" he said, slowly. \"Has it occurred to you that it will be\nno easy task to spend a million dollars without in some way", "prices down. They won't be caught napping again, either,\"\nsaid one of the bystanders earnestly.\n\n\"Do you think so?\" And there was a note of relief in Monty's voice.\n\nFrom all sides came the advice to sell at once, but Brewster was not to\nbe pushed. He calmly lighted a cigarette, and with an assured air of\nwisdom told them to wait a little while and see.\n\n\"She's already falling off,\" said some one at the ticker.\n\nWhen Brewster's bewildered", "knew that Brewster had but one\nchance to win, and that was to buy the stock in a lump instead of\ndistributing it among several brokers and throughout the session. This\nwas a point that Monty had overlooked.\n\nThere had been little to excite the Stock Exchange for some weeks:\nnothing was active and the slightest flurry was hailed as an event.\nEvery one knew that the calm would be disturbed at some near day, but\nnobody looked for a sensation in Lumber and Fuel. It was a foregone\nconclusion that", "stiff and\nstraight and looking over Brewster's head.\n\n\"Good Lord, Nopper, I can't have that. You must not desert the ship.\nWhat's the matter, old chap? You're as white as a ghost. What is it?\"\nMonty was standing now and his hands were on Harrison's shoulders, but\nbefore the intensity of his look, his friend's eyes fell helplessly.\n\n\"The truth is, Monty, I've taken some of your money and I've lost it.\nThat's the reason I--", "half bad. New\nYork was not more than a month away as Brewster reckoned time and\ndistance, and there was still too much money in the treasury. As\nSeptember drew nearer he got into the habit of frequently forgetting\nSwearengen Jones until it was too late to retrace his steps. He was\ncoming to the \"death struggle,\" as he termed it, and there was\nsomething rather terrorizing in the fear that \"the million might die\nhard.\" And so these last days and nights were glorious ones, if one\ncould have looked at them with", "reckless extravagance. They were worried.\n\n\"He's like a sailor in port,\" protested Harrison. \"Money is no object\nif he wants a thing, and--damn it--he seems to want everything he sees.\"\n\n\"It won't last long,\" Gardner said, reassuringly. \"Like his namesake,\nMonte Cristo, the world is his just now and he wants to enjoy it.\"\n\n\"He wants to get rid of it, it seems to me.\"\n\nWhenever they reproached Brewster about the matter he", "Where did you get that tip?\" asked he.\n\n\"Tip? What tip?\" from Brewster.\n\n\"On the prize-fight?\"\n\nBrewster's face fell and something cold crept over him.\n\n\"How did--what was the result?\" he asked, sure of the answer.\n\n\"Haven't you heard? Your man knocked him out in the fifth\nround--surprised everybody.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nNAPOLEON OF FINANCE\n\n\nThe next two months were busy ones for Brewster. Miss", "of the cuisine\nand personal service. And he had found it simple enough to spend the\nremaining $1,080. There were days, of course, when fully $5,000\ndisappeared, and there were others on which he spent much less than\n$1,000, but the average was secure. Taking everything into\nconsideration, Brewster found that his fortune had dwindled to a few\npaltry thousands in addition to the proceeds which would come to him\nfrom the sale of his furniture. On the whole he was satisfied.\n\nThe", "? It's your money, but the drink won't be any the worse for that. We\nblowed most of it already, but here's what's left.\" Bill handed Monty a\nroll of bills.\n\n\"I'd a kept it if you'd made a fight,\" he continued, \"but it ain't\nsquare to keep it now.\"\n\nBrewster refused the money, but took back his watch.\n\n\"Keep it, Bill,\" he said, \"you need it more than I do. It's enough to\nset you up in some other", ", a transaction inspired by\nthe wild hope that one of them might some day suspend operations and\nthereby prove a legitimate benefit to him. There seemed no prospect\nthat the bank could resume operations, and if the depositors in the end\nrealized twenty cents on the dollar they would be fortunate.\nNotwithstanding the fact that everybody had considered the institution\nsubstantial there were not a few wiseacres who called Brewster a fool\nand were so unreasonable as to say that he did not know how to handle\nmoney. He heard that Miss Drew, in particular, was bitterly sar", "new light; his profit\nhad been quite small, as things go on the Exchange in these days. The\nmere fact that he had shown such foresight proved sufficient cause for\nthe reversal of opinion. Men looked at him with new interest in their\neyes, with fresh confidence. His unfortunate operations in the stock\nmarket had restored him to favor in all circles. The man, young or old,\nwho could do what he had done with Lumber and Fuel well deserved the\nnew promises that were being made for him.\n\nBrewster bobbed uncertainly between two emotions--elation", "Nopper\" Harrison, that gentleman had worn a\nnever-decreasing look of worry and anxiety in his eyes.\n\nRawles added to his despair a day or two after the Stock Exchange\nmisfortune. He brought up the information that six splendid little\npuppies had come to bless his Boston terrier family, and Joe Bragdon,\nwho was present, enthusiastically predicted that he could get $100\napiece for them. Brewster loved dogs, yet for one single horrible\nmoment he longed to massacre the helpless little creatures. But the old\n", "veyed to his mind a perfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act\nof putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.\n\n\"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montana\nstandard of extravagance,\" Brewster said to himself. \"I wonder if he\never sees the New York papers.\"\n\nLate each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to his\nbedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,\nwith a pencil and a pad of", "ed from the point of view of these men, but a catastrophe from\nhis own.\n\n\"I hope you sold it when it was at the top,\" said the Colonel anxiously.\n\n\"I instructed Gardner to sell only when I gave the word,\" said Monty,\nlamely. Several of the men looked at him in surprise and disgust.\n\n\"Well, if I were you I'd tell him to sell,\" remarked the Colonel,\ncoldly.\n\n\"The effect of your plunge has worn off, Brewster, and the other side\nwill drive", "greater delight than to share it with them. To walk into the little\ndrawing-room and serenely lay large sums before them as their own\nseemed such a natural proceeding that he refused to see an obstacle.\nBut he knew it was there; the proffer of such a gift to Mrs. Gray would\nmean a wound to the pride inherited from haughty generations of men\nsufficient unto themselves. There was a small but troublesome mortgage\non the house, a matter of two or three thousand dollars, and Brewster\ntried to evolve a plan by which he" ], [ "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "of his money on this cruise. Do\nyou understand our position, Captain Perry?\"\n\n\"Fully. I wish with all my soul that I could help you and him. My hands\nare tied by contract, however, much as I regret it at this moment.\"\n\n\"How does the crew feel about this additional trip, captain?\" asked\nDeMille.\n\n\"They shipped for five months and will receive five months' pay. The\nmen have been handsomely treated and they will stick to Mr. Brewster to\nthe end,\" said the captain.\n\n\"There is no chance for", "that the very blindness of love had hidden from him,\nforever tormenting himself with fears and hopes and fears again. Her\nhappiness and vivacity puzzled him--he was often annoyed, he was now\nand then seriously mystified.\n\nFour days out from New York, then three days, then two days, and then\nBrewster began to feel the beginning of the final whirlwind in\nprofligacy clouding him oppressively, ominously, unkindly. Down in his\nstateroom he drew new estimates, new calculations, and tried", "he went on,\ncalmly. There was a chorus of cries and Brewster was forgotten for a\ntime. \"One of the sailors, you know. He was doing something in the\nrigging near where I was standing. Puff! off he went into the sea, and\nthere he was puttering around in the water.\"\n\n\"Oh, the poor fellow,\" cried Miss Valentine.\n\n\"I'd never set eyes on him before--perfect stranger. I wouldn't have\nhesitated a minute, but the deck was crowded with a lot of his friends.", "full term of the lease and I am engaged to sail her with my crew until\nthe tenth of next September.\"\n\n\"We understand your position, captain, and I am sure you appreciate\nours. It isn't that we want to end a very delightful cruise, but that\nwe regard it as sheer folly for Mr. Brewster to extend the tour at such\ntremendous expense. He is--or was--a rich man, but it is impossible to\nignore the fact that he is plunging much too heavily. In plain words,\nwe want to keep him from spending more", "ductors. Even as Brewster poised for\nthe spring into the water a flying form shot past him and into the sea\nwith a resounding splash. The man that fired the shot had reckoned\ncleverly, and he was carrying out the final details of an inspired\nplan. The Arab's position as he stood in the boat was such as to\nwarrant the sailor's belief that he could fall no other way than\nforward, and that meant over the side of the boat. With all this\nclearly in mind he had shot straight and true and was on his way", "is wise.\"\n\nAn hour later the meeting broke up and the conspirators made their way\nto the deck. It was a strange fact that no one went alone. They were in\ngroups of three and four and the mystery that hung about them was\nalmost perceptible. Not one was willing to face the excited, buoyant\nBrewster without help; they found strength and security in\ncompanionship.\n\nPeggy was the one rebel against the conspiracy, and yet she knew that\nthe others were justified in the step they proposed to take. She\nreluctantly joined them", "yacht would sail for Boston and that he would be kept a\nprisoner for the entire voyage unless he submitted to the will of the\nmajority.\n\nBrewster listened darkly to the proclamation. He saw that they had\ngained the upper hand by a clever ruse, and that only strategy on his\npart could outwit them. It was out of the question for him to submit to\nthem now that the controversy had assumed the dignity of a struggle.\n\n\"But you will be reasonable, won't you?\" asked DeMille, anxiously.\n\n\"", "boats, and there was intense excitement on board. A gasp of\namazement went up from every one.\n\nMonty Brewster, drenched but smiling, sat in one of the boats, and\nleaning limply against him, his head on his chest, was the sailor who\nhad fallen overboard. Brewster had seen the man in the water and,\ninstead of wondering what his antecedents were, leaped to his\nassistance. When the boat reached him his unconscious burden was a dead\nweight and his own strength was almost gone. Another minute or two and\nboth", "stiff and\nstraight and looking over Brewster's head.\n\n\"Good Lord, Nopper, I can't have that. You must not desert the ship.\nWhat's the matter, old chap? You're as white as a ghost. What is it?\"\nMonty was standing now and his hands were on Harrison's shoulders, but\nbefore the intensity of his look, his friend's eyes fell helplessly.\n\n\"The truth is, Monty, I've taken some of your money and I've lost it.\nThat's the reason I--", "her experience, and the\nwhole party felt a distinct relief when the yacht finally left the\nharbor and steamed off to the west. A cablegram that came the day\nbefore may have had something to do with Brewster's depression, but he\nwas not the sort to confess it. It was from Swearengen Jones, of Butte,\nMontana, and there was something sinister in the laconic admonition. It\nread:\n\n\n\"BREWSTER, U.S. CONSULATE, ALEXANDRIA.\n\n\"", "from one side just as Brewster entered\nfrom the other. Stupefaction halted them. After the first pulseless\nmoment of horror, exclamations of dismay went up on all sides. For\nMonty Brewster the first sensation of regret was followed by a\ndiabolical sense of joy.\n\n\"Thank the Lord!\" he said softly in the hush.\n\nThe look of surprise he encountered in the faces of his guests brought\nhim up with a jerk.\n\n\"That it didn't happen while we were dining,\" he added with serene\nthankfulness", "to the\nwater almost as the two toppled overboard.\n\nMonty Brewster was in the water an instant later, striking out for the\nspot where they had disappeared, a little to the left of the course in\nwhich his boat was running. There was a rattle of firearms, with curses\nand cheers, but he paid no heed to these sounds. He was a length or two\nbehind the sailor, praying with all his soul that one or the other\nmight succeed in reaching the white robes that still kept the surface\nof the water. His crew was", "do is to cheer up the women and trust to luck.\"\n\n\"You're the nerviest mate I ever shipped with, Mr. Brewster,\" and the\ncaptain's hand gripped Monty's in a way that meant things. It was a\ntribute he appreciated.\n\nDuring the day Monty devoted himself to his guests, and at the first\nsign of pensiveness he was ready with a jest or a story. But he did it\nall with a tact that inspired the crowd as a whole with hope, and no\none suspected that he himself was not cheerful.", "of Brewster's boat, and\nan unerring bullet sped straight for the big Arab's forehead. It\ncrashed between his eyes and death must have been instantaneous. The\nknife flew from his hand, his body straightened and then collapsed,\ntoppling over, not among his oarsmen, but across the gunwale of the\ncraft. Before a hand could be lifted to prevent, the dead Arab and the\ngirl were plunged into the sea.\n\nA cry of horror went up from the Americans, and something surprisingly\nlike a shout of triumph from the ab", "\"Dan DeMille, you are quite foolish,\" cried his wife. \"Who ever\nconceived such a ridiculous idea?\"\n\n\"Captain Perry has his instructions,\" continued DeMille, turning to the\ncaptain. \"Are we not acting along the lines marked out by Brewster\nhimself?\"\n\n\"I will sail for Boston if you say the word,\" said the thoughtful\ncaptain. \"But he is sure to countermand such an order.\"\n\n\"He won't be able to, captain,\" cried \"Subway\" Smith, who had for some\ntime been", "evening ended with fireworks and a dance in the open air,--a dance\nthat grew gay under the masks. The wheels had been well oiled and there\nwas no visible failure of the carnival spirit. To Brewster it seemed a\nmad game, and he found it less easy to play a part behind the foolish\nmask than he expected. His own friends seemed to elude him, and the\ncoquetries of the village damsels had merely a fleeting charm. He was\nstanding apart to watch the glimmering crowd when he was startled by a\nsmothered cry. Turn", "ports at times and then plunging violently away from them. For some\nminutes she listened, frantically clutching Brewster's door and the\nwall-rail. There was no guard, and the tumult of the sea drowned every\nsound within. Her imagination ran riot when her repeated calls were not\nanswered.\n\n\"Monty, Monty,\" she cried, pounding wildly on the door.\n\n\"Who is it? What is the trouble?\" came in muffled tones from within,\nand Peggy breathed a prayer of thanks. Just", "entire train,\nthoroughly dissatisfied and in high dudgeon. At first he threatened to\ntake her by force; then he agreed to give her another day in which to\nmake up her mind to go with him peaceably, and again he concluded that\na bird in the hand was worth two in the bush.\n\nBrewster stood gloomily on the outside of the excited group glowering\nupon the ugly suitor. Cooler heads had relegated him to this place of\nsecurity during the diplomatic contest. The sheik's threats of\nvengeance were" ], [ "the burden of\nresponsibility on me, Miss Drew.\"\n\n\"Have I suggested going back to the old relations? You will pardon me\nif I remind you of the fact that you came to-day on your own initiative\nand certainly without my solicitation.\"\n\n\"Now, look here, Barbara--\" he began, dimly realizing that it was going\nto be hard, very hard, to reason.\n\n\"I am very sorry, Mr. Brewster, but you will have to excuse me. I am\ngoing out.\"\n\n\"I regret exceedingly that I should have", "surrender. Both of her hands were\nclasped in his when he exultingly resumed the charge against her heart,\nbut she was rapidly regaining control of her emotions and he did not\nknow that he was losing ground with each step he took forward. Barbara\nDrew loved Brewster, but she was going to make him pay dearly for the\nbrief lapse her composure had experienced. When next she spoke she was\nagain the Miss Drew who had been trained in the ways of the world, and\nnot the young girl in love.\n\n\"I care for you a great deal,", "of his pain, and her face said nothing.\n\n\"Peggy,\" he exclaimed, finally, resenting the necessity of answering\nher, \"you don't in the least know what you are talking about. It is not\na fit of anger on Barbara Drew's part. It is a serious conviction.\"\n\n\"A conviction which can be changed,\" the girl broke in.\n\n\"Not at all.\" Brewster took it up. \"She has no faith in me. She thinks\nI'm an ass.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she's right,\" she exclaimed,", "only saw in it a ray of hope that Barbara was\nrelenting and was jubilant at the prospect of a reconciliation. The\nnext Sunday he sought an interview with Miss Drew, but she received him\nwith icy reserve. If he had thought to punish her by staying away, it\nwas evident that she felt equally responsible for a great deal of\nmisery on his part. Both had been more or less unhappy, and both were\nresentfully obstinate. Brewster felt hurt and insulted, while she felt\nthat he had imposed upon her disgracefully. He was", "calmly.\n\n\"Going to be out of town?\"\n\n\"I'm sure I do not know,\" stiffly.\n\n\"What's this?\"\n\n\"He has not been asked, father.\" Miss Drew was not in good humor.\n\n\"Not asked?\" said the Colonel in amazement. \"It's ridiculous, Babs,\nsend him an invitation at once.\"\n\n\"This is my dance, father, and I don't want to ask Mr. Brewster.\"\n\nThe Colonel sank back in his chair and struggled to overcome his anger.\nHe", "\n\"But it was only a few weeks ago that you were engaged.\"\n\n\"I am sorry,\" answered Barbara, \"that it should have been talked about\nso much. Mr. Brewster did ask me to marry him, but I never accepted. In\nfact, it was only his persistence that made me consider the matter at\nall. I did think about it. I confess that I rather liked him. But it\nwas not long before I found him out.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" And there was a flash in Peggy's eyes. \"What has he\ndone?\"\n\n", "gy went on as if unconscious of the challenge.\n\n\"He has been bored to death, poor fellow, in the house all this time,\nand--\"\n\n\"Miss Gray, please do not mention Mr. Brewster's name to me again,\"\ninterrupted Barbara, with a contraction of the eyebrows. But Peggy was\nseized with a spirit of defiance and plunged recklessly on.\n\n\"What is the use, Miss Drew, of taking an attitude like that? I know\nthe situation pretty well, and I can't believe that either Monty or you", "\n\n\"Well, if Monty Brewster is still in love with Miss Drew he takes a\nmighty poor way of showing it.\" \"Subway\" Smith's remark fell like a\nbombshell. The thought had come to every one, but no one had been given\nthe courage to utter it. For them Brewster's silence on the subject\nsince the DeMille dinner seemed to have something ominous behind it.\n\n\"It's probably only a lovers' quarrel,\" said Bragdon. But further\ncomment was cut short by the entrance of Monty", "prove herself tearfully\nfeminine. She left Brewster still heavily enveloped in melancholy; but\nshe left him puzzled. He began to wonder if Barbara Drew did have\nsomething in the back of her mind. Then he found his thoughts wandering\noff toward Peggy and her defiance. He had only twice before seen her in\nthat mood, and he liked it. He remembered how she had lost her temper\nonce when she was fifteen, and hated a girl he admired. Suddenly he\nlaughed aloud at the thought of the fierce little picture she had made,\n", "-night,\" and he was off before the Colonel\ncould hold him.\n\nBarbara was tearfully angry when her father came into the room, but as\nhe began to remonstrate with her the tears disappeared and left her at\nwhite heat.\n\n\"Frankly, father, you don't understand matters,\" she said with slow\nemphasis; \"I wish you to know now that if Montgomery Brewster calls\nagain, I shall not see him.\"\n\n\"If that is your point of view, Barbara, I wish you to know mine.\" The\nColonel rose and stood", "Mr. Brewster's conduct?\" Barbara did\nnot like to be placed in the wrong, and felt that she must endeavor to\njustify herself. \"He is the most reckless of spend-thrifts, we know,\nand he probably indulges in even less respectable excitement.\"\n\nPeggy was not tall, but she carried her head at this moment as though\nshe were in the habit of looking down on the world.\n\n\"Aren't you going a little too far, Miss Drew?\" she asked placidly.\n\n\"It is not only New York", "how they came; he merely wished to\nmake sure of their presence. His only blunder was the rather diffident\nrecommendation that Barbara Drew be asked again. If he observed that\nMrs. Dan's head sank a little closer to the paper, he attached no\nimportance to the movement; he could not see that her eyes grew narrow,\nand he paid no attention to the little catch in her breath.\n\n\"Wouldn't that be a little--just a little pronounced?\" she asked,\nlightly enough.\n\n\"You mean--that people might talk?\"\n", ", for she cared enough for Montgomery Brewster to have made her\nanxiously uncertain of his state of mind. She cared, indeed, much more\nthan she intended to confess at the outset.\n\nIt was nearly half-past five when he came, and for once the\nphilosophical Miss Drew felt a little irritation. So certain was she of\nhis object in coming that his tardiness was a trifle ruffling. He\napologized for being late, and succeeded in banishing the pique that\npossessed her. It was naturally impossible for him to", "had troubled her for many days.\n\"Monty,\" she said, and she found it much more difficult than when she\nhad rehearsed the scene in the silence of her walks; \"I've heard a\nrumor that Miss Drew and her mother have taken rooms at the hotel.\nWouldn't it be pleasanter to have them here?\"\n\nA heavy gloom settled upon Brewster's face, and the girl's heart\ndropped like lead. She had puzzled over the estrangement, and wondered\nif by any effort of her own things could be", "maintained heroically\nthe air of disdain that had succeeded the first sharp pangs of\ndisappointment. Colonel Drew, in whose good graces Monty had firmly\nestablished himself, was not quite guiltless of usurping the role of\ndictator in the effort to patch up a truce. A few nights before the\ncotillon, when Barbara told him that Herbert Ailing was to lead, he\nexplosively expressed surprise. \"Why not Monty Brewster, Babs?\" he\ndemanded.\n\n\"Mr. Brewster is not coming,\" she responded,", "Monty would not\naccept advice. That he was mistaken about Barbara's feeling she did not\ndoubt for a moment, and she saw things going hopelessly wrong for want\nof a word. There were times when she let herself dream of\npossibilities, but they always ended by seeming too impossible. She\ncared too much to make the attainment of her vision seem simple. She\ncared too much to be sure of anything.\n\nAt moments she fancied that she might say a word to Miss Drew which\nwould straighten things out. But there was something about", "learn that Miss Barbara Drew\nwas to become a duchess before the winter was gone. Yet he found some\nsatisfaction in the report that one Hampton of Chicago had long since\nbeen dropped out of the race.\n\nOne day he implored the faithful Bragdon to steal the Boston terriers.\nHe could not and would not sell them and he dared not give them away.\nBragdon dejectedly appropriated the dogs and Brewster announced that\nsome day he would offer a reward for their return and \"no questions\nasked.\"\n\nHe took a suite of", ".\n\nShe was conscious of disappointment after he was gone. He had not\npleaded as ardently as she had expected and desired, and, try as she\nwould, she could not banish the touch of irritation that had come to\nhaunt her for the night.\n\nBrewster walked to the club, elated that he had at least made a\nbeginning. His position was now clear. Besides losing a fortune he must\nwin Barbara in open competition.\n\nAt the theater that evening he met Harrison, who was in a state of\njubilation.\n\n\"", "\n\"I don't blame them.\"\n\n\"We owe something to Mrs. Dan, I think.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\nBarbara uttered some inanity whenever she caught any one looking in\ntheir direction, but Brewster seemed not to hear. At length he cut\nshort some remark of hers about the weather.\n\n\"What nonsense this is, Barbara,\" he said. \"With any one else I would\nchuck the whole game, but with you it is different. I don't know what I\nhave done, but I am sorry. I hope you'll", "\n\"Oh, don't worry about him,\" said \"Subway,\" easily; \"Monty's at least a\ngood sportsman. He won't complain, whatever happens. He'll accept the\nreckoning and pay the piper.\"\n\nIt was only toward the end of the evening that Monty found his reward\nin a moment with Barbara Drew. He stood before her, squaring his\nshoulders belligerently to keep away intruders, and she smiled up at\nhim in that bewildering fashion of hers. But it was only for an\ninstant, and" ], [ "ursuing. Nor did it surprise him when he found that his presence was\nnot as essential to the success of some other affair as it had once\nbeen. He was not greeted as cordially as before, and he grimly wondered\nhow many of his friends would stand true to the end. The uncertainty\nmade him turn more and more often to the unquestioned loyalty of Peggy\nGray, and her little library saw him more frequently than for months.\n\nMuch as he had dreaded the pretentious and resplendent ball, it was\nuseful to him in one way at least", "For Peggy Gray there\nwas a special tenderness, and he made up his mind that if things should\ngo wrong he would tell her that he loved her.\n\n\"It could do no harm,\" he thought to himself, \"and I want her to know.\"\n\nToward night the worst was over. The sea had gone down and the hatches\nwere opened for a while to admit air, though it was still too rough to\nventure out. The next morning was bright and clear. When the company\ngathered on deck the havoc created by the storm was apparent. Two of\nthe", "\n\n\"I feel like the boy who was shut in a closet for punishment and found\nit the place where they kept the jam,\" said \"Subway.\" \"It is almost as\ngood as owning Central Park.\"\n\nThe stables were well equipped and the days wore on in a wonderful\npeace. It was on a radiant afternoon, when twelve of the crowd had\nstarted out, after tea, for a long ride toward Lugano, that Monty\ndetermined to call Peggy Gray to account. He was certain that she had\ndeliberately avoided him for days and weeks", "invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As\nhe came aboard the \"Flitter,\" Monty believed the invitation was more\nthan justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so\nmuch of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell\ndesperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the\ncomposure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for\nBrewster the next day and told him to \"send her around\" and he would\nmarry her. Monty's", "was\ninfinitely harder to endure. When he sat down to think over his\nfinancial enterprises his mind treacherously wandered off to Peggy\nGray, and then everything was hopeless. He recalled the courage and\nconfidence that had carried him to Barbara Drew with a declaration of\nlove--to the stunning, worldly Barbara--and smiled bitterly when he saw\nhow basely the two allies were deserting him in this hour of love for\nPeggy Gray. For some reason he had felt sure of Barbara; for another\nreason he saw no chance with Peggy. She", "\ncompanionship of Peggy and Mrs. Gray.\n\n\"How soon can I get back to work, Doctor?\" demanded Monty, the day\nbefore the special train was to carry him south. He was beginning to\nsee the dark side of this enforced idleness. His blood again was\ntingling with the desire to be back in the harness of a spendthrift.\n\n\"To work?\" laughed the physician. \"And what is your occupation, pray?\"\n\n\"Making other people rich,\" responded Brewster, soberly.\n\n\"Well, aren't you satisfied", "to heart, Peggy,\" said Monty, seriously. \"I'm pretty\nhard hit, and I want your help. A sister's advice is always the best in\na matter of this sort.\"\n\nShe looked into his eyes dully for an instant, not realizing the full\nimportance of his confession.\n\n\"You, Monty?\" she said, incredulously.\n\n\"I've got it bad, Peggy,\" he replied, staring hard at the floor. She\ncould not understand the cold, gray tone that suddenly enveloped the\nroom. The strange sense of", "come another\nday and that the whole world would tremble at his approach. Disgusted\nwith himself and afraid to meet the eyes of the other men, Brewster\nwent below in search of Peggy. He took time to comfort the anxious\nwomen who crowded about him and then asked for Miss Gray. She was in\nher stateroom and would not come forth. When he knocked at the door a\ndismal, troubled voice from within told him to go away.\n\n\"Come out, Peggy; it's all over,\" he called.\n\n\"Please go away,", "beggar,\" came in Peggy's clear,\nsoft voice.\n\nBarbara hesitated only a moment.\n\n\"Well, you must admit, Miss Gray, that it shows a shameful lack of\ncharacter. How could any girl be happy with a man like that? And, after\nall, one must look out for one's own fate.\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" replied Peggy, but many thoughts were dashing through\nher brain.\n\n\"Shall we turn back to the cottage?\" she said, after an awkward silence.\n\n\"You certainly don't approve of", "pt over her. What did it all mean? \"I am very glad if it will\nmake you happy, Monty,\" she said slowly, the gray in her lips giving\nway to red once more. \"Does she know?\"\n\n\"I haven't told her in so many words, Peggy, but--but I'm going to this\nevening,\" he announced, lamely.\n\n\"This evening?\"\n\n\"I can't wait,\" Monty said as he rose to go. \"I'm glad you're pleased,\nPeggy; I need your good", "the circumstances, he could send her a gift of value, but\nthe beautiful pearls with which he asked for a reconciliation were\nreturned with \"Miss Drew's thanks.\" He loved Barbara sincerely, and it\ncut. Peggy Gray was taken into his confidence and he was comforted by\nher encouragement. It was a bit difficult for her to advise him to try\nagain, but his happiness was a thing she had at heart.\n\n\"It's beastly unfair, Peggy,\" he said. \"I've really been white to her.\nI believe I'll", "eight hours\nand--then it would go to join the rest. It was his plan to visit Grant\n& Ripley on the afternoon of the twenty-second and to read the report\nto them, in anticipation of the meeting with Jones on the day following.\n\nJust before noon, after his encounter with Mrs. Gray, he came down\nstairs and boldly, for the first time in days, sought out Peggy. There\nwas the old smile in his eye and the old heartiness in his voice when\nhe came upon her in the library. She was not reading. Books, pleasures\n", "their riding\nparties. Monty pleaded that he was not well enough to be in these\nexcursions, but neither he nor Barbara cared to over-emphasize their\nestrangement.\n\nPeggy Gray was in despair over Monty's attitude. She had become\nconvinced that behind his pride he was cherishing a secret longing for\nBarbara. Yet she could not see how the walls were to be broken down if\nhe maintained this icy reserve. She was sure that the masterful tone\nwas the one to win with a girl like that, but evidently", "toward the others.\n\nThe artist instantly took his place. The next moment he had challenged\nher to a race and they were flying down the road in the moonlight.\nBrewster, not to be outdone, was after them, but it was only a moment\nbefore his horse shied violently at something black in the road. Then\nhe saw Peggy's horse galloping riderless. Instantly, with fear at his\nthroat, he had dismounted and was at the girl's side. She was not hurt,\nthey found, only bruised and", "hour with the lawyers, he had been\nbesieged with questions, but he was cleverly evasive. Peggy alone was\ninsistent; she had curbed her curiosity until they were on the way\nhome, and then she implored him to tell her what had happened. The\nmisery he had endured was as nothing to his reckoning with the woman\nwho had the right to expect fair treatment. His duty was clear, but the\nstrain had been heavy and it was not easy to meet it.\n\n\"Peggy, something terrible has happened,\" he faltered, uncertain", "Peggy? Do you suppose there is something that I\ncould do? You know what I mean--something that some one else would not\ndo a thousand times better.\"\n\nBut Peggy, to whom this chastened mood in Monty was infinitely\npathetic, would not let him talk. She soothed him and cheered him and\ntouched his hair with her cool hands. And then she left him to think\nand brood and dream.\n\nIt was many days before his turbulent mind drifted to the subject of\nmoney, but suddenly he found himself hoping that the surge", "unconcern. DeMille and Dr.\nLotless talked in the senseless way men have when they try to conceal\ntheir nervousness. But the women did not respond; they were in no mood\nfor conversation.\n\nOnly one of them was quite oblivious to personal discomfort and danger.\nPeggy Gray was thinking of the prisoner below. In a reflection of her\nown terror, she pictured him crouching in the little state-room, like a\ndoomed criminal awaiting execution, alone, neglected, forgotten,\nunpitied. At first she", "gy went on as if unconscious of the challenge.\n\n\"He has been bored to death, poor fellow, in the house all this time,\nand--\"\n\n\"Miss Gray, please do not mention Mr. Brewster's name to me again,\"\ninterrupted Barbara, with a contraction of the eyebrows. But Peggy was\nseized with a spirit of defiance and plunged recklessly on.\n\n\"What is the use, Miss Drew, of taking an attitude like that? I know\nthe situation pretty well, and I can't believe that either Monty or you", "of his pain, and her face said nothing.\n\n\"Peggy,\" he exclaimed, finally, resenting the necessity of answering\nher, \"you don't in the least know what you are talking about. It is not\na fit of anger on Barbara Drew's part. It is a serious conviction.\"\n\n\"A conviction which can be changed,\" the girl broke in.\n\n\"Not at all.\" Brewster took it up. \"She has no faith in me. She thinks\nI'm an ass.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she's right,\" she exclaimed,", "Grays, made up Brewster's party.\nLotless dampened Monty's spirits by relentlessly putting him on rigid\ndiet, with most discouraging restrictions upon his conduct. The period\nof convalescence was to be an exceedingly trying one for the invalid.\nAt first he was kept in-doors, and the hours were whiled away by\nplaying cards. But Monty considered \"bridge\" the \"pons asinorum,\" and\npreferred to play piquet with Peggy. It was one of these games that the\ngirl interrupted with a question that" ], [ "invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As\nhe came aboard the \"Flitter,\" Monty believed the invitation was more\nthan justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so\nmuch of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell\ndesperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the\ncomposure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for\nBrewster the next day and told him to \"send her around\" and he would\nmarry her. Monty's", ". They would say, 'There are Monty Brewster and Margaret Gray.\nSpending his last few dollars on her.' You wouldn't have them think\nthat?\"\n\nHe saw the justice in her protest. \"A quiet little dinner in some out\nof the way place would be joyous,\" she added, persuasively.\n\n\"You're right, Peggy, you're always right. You see, I'm so used to\nspending money by the handful that I don't know how to do it any other\nway. I believe I'll let you carry the", "toward the others.\n\nThe artist instantly took his place. The next moment he had challenged\nher to a race and they were flying down the road in the moonlight.\nBrewster, not to be outdone, was after them, but it was only a moment\nbefore his horse shied violently at something black in the road. Then\nhe saw Peggy's horse galloping riderless. Instantly, with fear at his\nthroat, he had dismounted and was at the girl's side. She was not hurt,\nthey found, only bruised and", "of his pain, and her face said nothing.\n\n\"Peggy,\" he exclaimed, finally, resenting the necessity of answering\nher, \"you don't in the least know what you are talking about. It is not\na fit of anger on Barbara Drew's part. It is a serious conviction.\"\n\n\"A conviction which can be changed,\" the girl broke in.\n\n\"Not at all.\" Brewster took it up. \"She has no faith in me. She thinks\nI'm an ass.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she's right,\" she exclaimed,", "\ncompanionship of Peggy and Mrs. Gray.\n\n\"How soon can I get back to work, Doctor?\" demanded Monty, the day\nbefore the special train was to carry him south. He was beginning to\nsee the dark side of this enforced idleness. His blood again was\ntingling with the desire to be back in the harness of a spendthrift.\n\n\"To work?\" laughed the physician. \"And what is your occupation, pray?\"\n\n\"Making other people rich,\" responded Brewster, soberly.\n\n\"Well, aren't you satisfied", "come another\nday and that the whole world would tremble at his approach. Disgusted\nwith himself and afraid to meet the eyes of the other men, Brewster\nwent below in search of Peggy. He took time to comfort the anxious\nwomen who crowded about him and then asked for Miss Gray. She was in\nher stateroom and would not come forth. When he knocked at the door a\ndismal, troubled voice from within told him to go away.\n\n\"Come out, Peggy; it's all over,\" he called.\n\n\"Please go away,", "was\ninfinitely harder to endure. When he sat down to think over his\nfinancial enterprises his mind treacherously wandered off to Peggy\nGray, and then everything was hopeless. He recalled the courage and\nconfidence that had carried him to Barbara Drew with a declaration of\nlove--to the stunning, worldly Barbara--and smiled bitterly when he saw\nhow basely the two allies were deserting him in this hour of love for\nPeggy Gray. For some reason he had felt sure of Barbara; for another\nreason he saw no chance with Peggy. She", "the strain was relaxed and Brewster faced the bitter\nreality. Without undressing he threw himself upon the lounge and\nwondered what the world held for him. It held Peggy at least, he\nthought, and she was enough. But had he been fair to her? Was he right\nin exacting a sacrifice? His tired brain whirled in the effort to\ndecide. Only one thing was clear--that he could not give her up. The\nfuture grew black at the very thought of it. With her he could make\nthings go, but alone it was another matter", "gy went on as if unconscious of the challenge.\n\n\"He has been bored to death, poor fellow, in the house all this time,\nand--\"\n\n\"Miss Gray, please do not mention Mr. Brewster's name to me again,\"\ninterrupted Barbara, with a contraction of the eyebrows. But Peggy was\nseized with a spirit of defiance and plunged recklessly on.\n\n\"What is the use, Miss Drew, of taking an attitude like that? I know\nthe situation pretty well, and I can't believe that either Monty or you", "prove herself tearfully\nfeminine. She left Brewster still heavily enveloped in melancholy; but\nshe left him puzzled. He began to wonder if Barbara Drew did have\nsomething in the back of her mind. Then he found his thoughts wandering\noff toward Peggy and her defiance. He had only twice before seen her in\nthat mood, and he liked it. He remembered how she had lost her temper\nonce when she was fifteen, and hated a girl he admired. Suddenly he\nlaughed aloud at the thought of the fierce little picture she had made,\n", "that.\" But he thought he detected some contradiction\nin her eyes, and he was right. The girl was afraid of him, afraid of\nthe sensations he awoke, afraid desperately of betrayal.\n\n\"Pettingill may appeal to you,\" he said, and his voice was serious,\n\"but you might at least be courteous to me.\"\n\n\"How absurd you are, Monty Brewster.\" The girl grew hot. \"You needn't\nthink that your million gives you the privilege of dictating to all of\nyour guests.\"\n\n\"Peggy,", "a little hot. \"Perhaps you have\nnever discovered that girls say many things to hide their emotions.\nPerhaps you don't realize what feverish, exclamatory, foolish things\ngirls are. They don't know how to be honest with the men they love, and\nthey wouldn't if they did. You are little short of an idiot, Monty\nBrewster, if you believed the things she said rather than the things\nshe looked.\"\n\nAnd Peggy, fiery and determined and defiantly unhappy, threw down her\ncards and escaped so that she might not", "only vaguely conscious.\nThe power of it made him exultant. Yet when he thought of her and her\ntoo quiet affection for him it left him despondent.\n\nSomething bumped against the side of the ship and a grating sound\nfollowed. Then came other gentle thuds combined with the soft swish of\nwater disturbed. Peggy and Brewster were on the point of going below\nwhen their attention was caught by these strange sounds.\n\n\"What is it?\" she asked as they paused irresolutely. He strode to the\nrail, the girl following", "his object in having the marriage take\nplace on the morning of September 23d, two hours before the time set\nfor the turning over of the Sedgwick millions. If all went well they\nwould be Brewster's millions before twelve o'clock, and Peggy's life of\npoverty would cover no more than three hours of time. She believed him\nworth a lifetime of poverty. So they would start the new life with but\none possession--love.\n\nPeggy rebelled against his desire to spend the seventy dollars that\nstill remained, but he was firm in", "\n\"But it was only a few weeks ago that you were engaged.\"\n\n\"I am sorry,\" answered Barbara, \"that it should have been talked about\nso much. Mr. Brewster did ask me to marry him, but I never accepted. In\nfact, it was only his persistence that made me consider the matter at\nall. I did think about it. I confess that I rather liked him. But it\nwas not long before I found him out.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" And there was a flash in Peggy's eyes. \"What has he\ndone?\"\n\n", ".\"\nOlder women were interested in him because his father and mother had\nmade a romantic runaway match, which was the talk of the town in the\nseventies, and had never been forgiven. Worldly women were interested\nin him because he was the only grandson of Edwin Peter Brewster, who\nwas many times a millionaire, and Monty was fairly certain to be his\nheir--barring an absent-minded gift to charity. Younger women were\ninterested for a much more obvious and simple reason: they liked him.\nMen also took to Monty because he was", "For Peggy Gray there\nwas a special tenderness, and he made up his mind that if things should\ngo wrong he would tell her that he loved her.\n\n\"It could do no harm,\" he thought to himself, \"and I want her to know.\"\n\nToward night the worst was over. The sea had gone down and the hatches\nwere opened for a while to admit air, though it was still too rough to\nventure out. The next morning was bright and clear. When the company\ngathered on deck the havoc created by the storm was apparent. Two of\nthe", "\n\n\"Well, if Monty Brewster is still in love with Miss Drew he takes a\nmighty poor way of showing it.\" \"Subway\" Smith's remark fell like a\nbombshell. The thought had come to every one, but no one had been given\nthe courage to utter it. For them Brewster's silence on the subject\nsince the DeMille dinner seemed to have something ominous behind it.\n\n\"It's probably only a lovers' quarrel,\" said Bragdon. But further\ncomment was cut short by the entrance of Monty", "this ugly brute so much as touching the\nhand of little Peggy Gray filled him with horror, and yet there was\nsomething laughable in the situation. He could not hide the smile that\ncame with the mind picture of Peggy listening to the avowal of the\nsheik. The Arab misinterpreted this exhibition of mirth. To him the\ngrin indicated friendship and encouragement. He wanted to give Brewster\na ring as a pledge of affection, but the American declined the\noffering, and also refused to carry a bag of jewels to Peggy.\n\n\"I", "had divulged it to Peggy the instant \"Rip\" was out of\nsight.\n\nBrewster found the sheik sitting in state on the upper deck impatiently\nawaiting the appearance of his charmer. He did not know her name, but\nhe had tranquilly commanded \"Rip\" to produce all of the women on board\nso that he might select Peggy from among them. Van Winkle and Bragdon,\nwho now was in the secret, were preparing to march the ladies past the\nruler when Monty came up.\n\n\"Has he seen" ], [ "night,\" said Grant, but\nthere was anxiety in his voice.\n\n\"I wonder,\" mused Ripley, as if to himself, \"how he will take it if the\nworst should happen.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nTHE NIGHT BEFORE\n\n\n\"It's all up to Jones now,\" kept running through Brewster's brain as he\ndrove off to keep his appointment with Peggy Gray. \"The million is\ngone--all gone. I'm as poor as Job's turkey. It's up to Jones, but", "taking anybody into your\nconfidence concerning this matter. Think it over. It may not be so\ndifficult after a night's sleep.\"\n\n\"If it isn't too difficult to get the night's sleep.\"\n\nAll the rest of the day Brewster wandered about as one in a dream. He\nwas pre-occupied and puzzled, and more than one of his old associates,\nreceiving a distant nod in passing, resentfully concluded that his\nwealth was beginning to change him. His brain was so full of\nstatistics, figures, and computations that it", "two or three hours. The lawyers had filed\nit at 8:30 o'clock.\n\nHe read it at a glance, his eyes burning, his heart freezing. To the\nend of his days these words lived sharp and distinct in his brain.\n\n\n\"Come to the office immediately. Will wait all night for you if\nnecessary. Jones has disappeared and there is absolutely no trace of\nhim.\"\n\n\"Grant & Ripley.\"\n\n\nBrewster sat as one paralyzed, absolutely no sign of emotion in his\nface. The others began to clam", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "look after some of his property and were not\nuneasy. Finally we began to wonder why he had not wired us on leaving\nfor the east. I telegraphed him again and got no answer. It dawned upon\nus that this was something unusual. We wired his secretary and received\na response from the chief of police. He asked, in turn, if we could\ntell him anything about the whereabouts of Jones. This naturally\nalarmed us and yesterday we kept the wires hot. The result of our\ninquiries is terrible, Mr. Brewster.\"\n\n\"", "veyed to his mind a perfect portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act\nof putting down a large black mark against him, and he forbore.\n\n\"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the Montana\nstandard of extravagance,\" Brewster said to himself. \"I wonder if he\never sees the New York papers.\"\n\nLate each night the last of the grand old Brewster family went to his\nbedroom where, after dismissing his man, he settled down at his desk,\nwith a pencil and a pad of", "from one side just as Brewster entered\nfrom the other. Stupefaction halted them. After the first pulseless\nmoment of horror, exclamations of dismay went up on all sides. For\nMonty Brewster the first sensation of regret was followed by a\ndiabolical sense of joy.\n\n\"Thank the Lord!\" he said softly in the hush.\n\nThe look of surprise he encountered in the faces of his guests brought\nhim up with a jerk.\n\n\"That it didn't happen while we were dining,\" he added with serene\nthankfulness", "half bad. New\nYork was not more than a month away as Brewster reckoned time and\ndistance, and there was still too much money in the treasury. As\nSeptember drew nearer he got into the habit of frequently forgetting\nSwearengen Jones until it was too late to retrace his steps. He was\ncoming to the \"death struggle,\" as he termed it, and there was\nsomething rather terrorizing in the fear that \"the million might die\nhard.\" And so these last days and nights were glorious ones, if one\ncould have looked at them with", "moment of silence, almost of\ndread.\n\n\"You mean the fellow with the beard?\" asked Monty, uneasily.\n\n\"Yes, sir. He sent in this letter, begging you to read it at once.\"\n\n\"Shall I send him away, Monty?\" demanded Bragdon, defiantly. \"What does\nhe mean by coming at this time?\"\n\n\"I'll read the letter first, Joe.\"\n\nEvery eye was on Brewster as he tore open the envelope. His face was\nexpressive. There was wonder in it, then", "at the French\nrestaurant. He awoke with the consciousness that he had cried aloud, \"I\ncan do it, but a year is not very long in an affair of this kind.\"\n\nIt was nine o'clock when Brewster finally rose, and after his tub he\nfelt ready to cope with any problem, even a substantial breakfast. A\nmessage had come to him from Mr. Grant of Grant & Ripley, announcing\nthe receipt of important dispatches from Montana, and asking him to\nluncheon at one. He had time to spare,", "is wise.\"\n\nAn hour later the meeting broke up and the conspirators made their way\nto the deck. It was a strange fact that no one went alone. They were in\ngroups of three and four and the mystery that hung about them was\nalmost perceptible. Not one was willing to face the excited, buoyant\nBrewster without help; they found strength and security in\ncompanionship.\n\nPeggy was the one rebel against the conspiracy, and yet she knew that\nthe others were justified in the step they proposed to take. She\nreluctantly joined them", "coat a few minutes later, and went whistling away\ninto the night. The roll of bills was gone.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nCHRISTMAS DESPAIR\n\n\nBrewster made a good story of the \"hold-up\" at the club, but he did not\nrelate all the details. One of the listeners was a new public\ncommissioner who was aggressive in his efforts at reform. Accordingly\nBrewster was summoned to headquarters the next morning for the purpose\nof looking over the \"suspects\" that had been brought in.", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "Where did you get that tip?\" asked he.\n\n\"Tip? What tip?\" from Brewster.\n\n\"On the prize-fight?\"\n\nBrewster's face fell and something cold crept over him.\n\n\"How did--what was the result?\" he asked, sure of the answer.\n\n\"Haven't you heard? Your man knocked him out in the fifth\nround--surprised everybody.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nNAPOLEON OF FINANCE\n\n\nThe next two months were busy ones for Brewster. Miss", "office. Drew was alone\nand was pacing the floor like a caged animal.\n\n\"Sit down, Brewster, and don't mind if I seem nervous. Of course we can\nhold out, but it is terrible--terrible. They think we are trying to rob\nthem. They're mad--utterly mad.\"\n\n\"I never saw anything like it, Colonel. Are you sure you can meet all\nthe demands?\" asked Brewster, thoroughly excited. The Colonel's face\nwas white and he chewed his cigar nervously.\n\n\"We can", "Why didn't you tell me?\" asked Brewster.\n\n\"There can be no doubt that Jones has fled, accompanied by his\nsecretary. The belief in Butte is that the secretary has murdered him.\"\n\n\"God!\" was the only sound that came from the lips of Brewster.\n\nRipley moistened his lips and went on\n\n\"We have dispatches here from the police, the banks, the trust\ncompanies and from a half dozen mine managers. You may read them if you\nlike, but I can tell you what they say. About the first of this", "selecting furniture and\nhangings for each room, but he did not know that his employer was\nmaking conditional purchases of everything. Mr. Brewster had agreements\nwith all the dealers to the effect that they were to buy everything\nback at a fair price, if he desired to give up his establishment within\na year. He adhered to this rule in all cases that called for the\npurchase outright of substantial necessities. The bump of\ncalculativeness in Monty Brewster's head was growing to abnormal\nproportions.\n\nIn retaining his rooms at Mrs.", "\nwill, and two nephews were cut off entirely; a very modest and\nimpecunious grandson of Joseph Garrity also was to sustain a severe\nchange of fortune in the near future, if the cards spoke correctly.\nJudge Van Woort, who was not expected to live through the night, got\nbetter immediately after hearing some one in the sick-room whisper that\nMontgomery Brewster was to give a big dinner. Naturally, the\nheirs-to-be condemned young Brewster in no uncertain terms.\n\nNevertheless, the dinner to be given by the", "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "hoarsely, his hand still on the knob.\n\n\"Sit down, Brewster, and control yourself,\" said Ripley.\n\n\"Good God, man, can't you see I am calm?\" cried Monty. \"Go on--tell me\nall about it. What do you know? What have you heard?\"\n\n\"He cannot be found, that's all,\" announced Ripley, with deadly\nintentness. \"I don't know what it means. There is no explanation. The\nwhole thing is inconceivable. Sit down and" ], [ "grew\nmore alarmed than they could afford to let the public see. The loans of\nall the banks were unusually large. Incipient runs on some had put all\nof them in an attitude of caution, and there was a natural reluctance\nto expose their own interests to jeopardy by coming to the relief of\nthe Bank of Manhattan Island.\n\nMonty Brewster had something like $200,000 in Colonel Drew's bank. He\nwould not have regretted on his own account the collapse of this\ninstitution, but he realized what it meant", ", a transaction inspired by\nthe wild hope that one of them might some day suspend operations and\nthereby prove a legitimate benefit to him. There seemed no prospect\nthat the bank could resume operations, and if the depositors in the end\nrealized twenty cents on the dollar they would be fortunate.\nNotwithstanding the fact that everybody had considered the institution\nsubstantial there were not a few wiseacres who called Brewster a fool\nand were so unreasonable as to say that he did not know how to handle\nmoney. He heard that Miss Drew, in particular, was bitterly sar", "drawing out your\ndeposit, but I want you to help us in this crucial moment.\" The Colonel\nlooked twenty years older and his voice shook perceptibly. Brewster's\npity went out to him in a flash.\n\n\"What can I do, Colonel Drew?\" he cried. \"I'll not take my money out,\nbut I don't know how I can be of further assistance to you. Command me,\nsir.\"\n\n\"You can restore absolute confidence, Monty, my dear boy, by increasing\nyour deposits in our bank,\" said the", "\n\"I came to assure you that I have not thought of withdrawing my\ndeposits from this bank, Colonel. You need have no uneasiness--\"\n\nThe door opened suddenly and one of the officials of the bank bolted\ninside, his face as white as death. He started to speak before he saw\nBrewster, and then closed his lips despairingly.\n\n\"What is it, Mr. Moore?\" asked Drew, as calmly as possible. \"Don't mind\nMr. Brewster.\"\n\n\"Oglethorp wants to draw two hundred and fifty", "A FRIEND IN NEED\n\n\nIt was while Brewster was in the depths of despair that his financial\naffairs had a windfall. One of the banks in which his money was\ndeposited failed and his balance of over $100,000 was wiped out.\nMismanagement was the cause and the collapse came on Friday, the\nthirteenth day of the month. Needless to say, it destroyed every\nvestige of the superstition he may have had regarding Friday and the\nnumber thirteen.\n\nBrewster had money deposited in five banks", "thousand dollars,\" said\nMoore in strained tones.\n\n\"Well, he can have it, can't he?\" asked the Colonel quietly. Moore\nlooked helplessly at the president of the bank, and his silence spoke\nmore plainly than words.\n\n\"Brewster, it looks bad,\" said the Colonel, turning abruptly to the\nyoung man. \"The other banks are afraid of a run and we can't count on\nmuch help from them. Some of them have helped us and others have\nrefused. Now, I not only ask you to refrain from", "was up. \"You mean to\nforce me to it. What you did for father--\"\n\nBrewster glowered at her, thinking that he had misunderstood. \"What do\nyou mean?\" he said.\n\n\"He has told me all about that wretched bank business. But poor father\nthought you quite disinterested. He did not see the little game behind\nyour melodrama. He would have torn up your check on the instant if he\nhad suspected you were trying to buy his daughter.\"\n\n\"Does your father believe that?\" asked Brewster.\n\n", "Moore paused\nirresolutely, his eyes on Brewster's face. The young man knew the time\nhad come when he must help or deny them.\n\nLike a flash the situation was made clear to him and his duty was\nplain. He remembered that the Bank of Manhattan Island held every\ndollar that Mrs. Gray and Peggy possessed; their meager fortune had\nbeen entrusted to the care of Prentiss Drew and his associates, and it\nwas in danger.\n\n\"I will do all I can, Colonel,\" said Monty, \"but upon one condition.\"\n", "Why didn't you tell me?\" asked Brewster.\n\n\"There can be no doubt that Jones has fled, accompanied by his\nsecretary. The belief in Butte is that the secretary has murdered him.\"\n\n\"God!\" was the only sound that came from the lips of Brewster.\n\nRipley moistened his lips and went on\n\n\"We have dispatches here from the police, the banks, the trust\ncompanies and from a half dozen mine managers. You may read them if you\nlike, but I can tell you what they say. About the first of this", "Brewster began a career that would have\nstartled the world had the facts been known. With true loyalty to the\n\"Little Sons of the Rich,\" he asked his friends to dinner and opened\ntheir eyes.\n\n\"Champagne!\" cried Harrison, as they were seated at table. \"I can't\nremember the last time I had champagne.\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" laughed \"Subway\" Smith. \"You couldn't remember anything\nafter that.\"\n\nAs the dinner progressed Brewster explained that he intended to double\nhis fortune within a year. \"", "to the hundreds of other\ndepositors, and for the first time he appreciated what his money could\naccomplish. Thinking that his presence might give confidence to the\nother depositors and stop the run he went over to the bank with\nHarrison and Bragdon. The tellers were handing out thousands of dollars\nto the eager depositors. His friends advised him strongly to withdraw\nbefore it was too late, but Monty was obdurate. They set it down to his\ndesire to help Barbara's father and admired his nerve.\n\n\"I understand,", "Monty,\" said Bragdon, and both he and Harrison went\namong the people carelessly asking one another if Brewster had come to\nwithdraw his money. \"No, he has over $200,000, and he's going to leave\nit,\" the other would say.\n\nEach excited group was visited in turn by the two men, but their\nassurance seemed to accomplish but little. These men and women were\nthere to save their fortunes; the situation was desperate.\n\nColonel Drew, outwardly calm and serene, but inwardly", "I intend to fight it out to the bitter end,\" said Brewster, his eyes\nflashing. \"At present I am your prisoner, but it is a long way to\nBoston.\"\n\nFor three days and two nights the \"Flitter\" steamed westward into the\nAtlantic, with her temporary owner locked into his stateroom. The\nconfinement was irksome, but he rather liked the sensation of being\ninterested in something besides money. He frequently laughed to himself\nover the absurdity of the situation. His enemies were friends, true and\ndevoted; his ga", "him as a\nsuppliant, no longer the cold man of the world. Back to Brewster's mind\ncame the thought of his quarrel with Barbara and of her heartlessness.\nA scratch of the pen, one way or the other, could change the life of\nBarbara Drew. The two bankers stood by scarcely breathing. From the\noutside came the shuffle of many feet and the muffled roll of voices.\nAgain the door to the private office opened and a clerk excitedly\nmotioned for Mr. Moore to hurry to the front of the bank.", "taunt and Mrs. Dan's\nopen criticism told plainly enough how the wind was blowing, but it was\nPeggy's gentle questions that cut the deepest. There was such honest\nconcern in her voice that he could see how his profligacy was troubling\nher and Mrs. Gray. In their eyes, more than in the others, he felt\nashamed and humiliated. Finally, goaded by the remark of a bank\ndirector which he overheard, \"Edwin P. Brewster is turning handsprings\nin his grave over the way he is", "we sail for New York to-morrow morning.\"\n\nBrewster stopped short and the expression on his face was one they\nnever could forget. Bewilderment, uncertainty and pain succeeded each\nother like flashes of light. Not a word was spoken for several seconds.\nThe red of humiliation slowly mounted to his cheeks, while in his eyes\nwavered the look of one who has been hunted down.\n\n\"You have decided?\" he asked lifelessly, and more than one heart went\nout in pity to him.\n\n\"We hated to do it, Monty,", "there be left to write\nabout?\"\n\n\"He is explicit,\" said the attorney, \"but it is best to know all the\nconditions before you decide. Have you made up your mind?\"\n\nBrewster sat for a long time, staring hard at the floor. A great\nstruggle was going on in his mind.\n\n\"It's a gamble, and a big one,\" he said at last, squaring his\nshoulders, \"but I'll take it. I don't want to appear disloyal to my\ngrandfather, but I think that even he", "over her, everything forgotten but the rage that\nwent so deep that it left the surface calm. Throwing aside his promise\nto Brewster, he told Barbara with dramatic simplicity the story of the\nrescue of the bank. \"You see,\" he added, \"if it had not been for that\nopen-hearted boy we would now be ruined. Instead of giving cotillons,\nyou might be giving music lessons. Montgomery Brewster will always be\nwelcome in this house and you will see that my wishes are respected. Do\nyou understand?\"\n\n\"Perfectly,\" Barbara answered in", "? It's your money, but the drink won't be any the worse for that. We\nblowed most of it already, but here's what's left.\" Bill handed Monty a\nroll of bills.\n\n\"I'd a kept it if you'd made a fight,\" he continued, \"but it ain't\nsquare to keep it now.\"\n\nBrewster refused the money, but took back his watch.\n\n\"Keep it, Bill,\" he said, \"you need it more than I do. It's enough to\nset you up in some other", "there was little reluctance to help him in\nthe wild career he had chosen. It was so easy to go with him to the\nedge of the precipice and let him take the plunge alone. Only the echo\nof the criticism reached Brewster, for he had silenced Harrison with\nwork and Pettingill with opportunities. It troubled him little, as he\nwas engaged in jotting down items that swelled the profit side of his\nledger account enormously. The ball was bound to give him a good lead\nin the race once more, despite the heavy handicap the Stock Exchange\n" ], [ ". They would say, 'There are Monty Brewster and Margaret Gray.\nSpending his last few dollars on her.' You wouldn't have them think\nthat?\"\n\nHe saw the justice in her protest. \"A quiet little dinner in some out\nof the way place would be joyous,\" she added, persuasively.\n\n\"You're right, Peggy, you're always right. You see, I'm so used to\nspending money by the handful that I don't know how to do it any other\nway. I believe I'll let you carry the", "his determination. They would dine\nand drive together and see all of the old life that was left--on\nseventy dollars. Then on the next day they would start all over again.\nThere was one rude moment of dismay when it occurred to him that Peggy\nmight be considered an \"asset\" if she became his wife before nine\no'clock. But he realized at once that it was only demanded of him that\nhe be penniless and that he possess no object that had been acquired\nthrough the medium of Edwin Peter Brewster's money. Surely this wife\n", "his object in having the marriage take\nplace on the morning of September 23d, two hours before the time set\nfor the turning over of the Sedgwick millions. If all went well they\nwould be Brewster's millions before twelve o'clock, and Peggy's life of\npoverty would cover no more than three hours of time. She believed him\nworth a lifetime of poverty. So they would start the new life with but\none possession--love.\n\nPeggy rebelled against his desire to spend the seventy dollars that\nstill remained, but he was firm in", "\ncompanionship of Peggy and Mrs. Gray.\n\n\"How soon can I get back to work, Doctor?\" demanded Monty, the day\nbefore the special train was to carry him south. He was beginning to\nsee the dark side of this enforced idleness. His blood again was\ntingling with the desire to be back in the harness of a spendthrift.\n\n\"To work?\" laughed the physician. \"And what is your occupation, pray?\"\n\n\"Making other people rich,\" responded Brewster, soberly.\n\n\"Well, aren't you satisfied", "night,\" said Grant, but\nthere was anxiety in his voice.\n\n\"I wonder,\" mused Ripley, as if to himself, \"how he will take it if the\nworst should happen.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nTHE NIGHT BEFORE\n\n\n\"It's all up to Jones now,\" kept running through Brewster's brain as he\ndrove off to keep his appointment with Peggy Gray. \"The million is\ngone--all gone. I'm as poor as Job's turkey. It's up to Jones, but", "invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As\nhe came aboard the \"Flitter,\" Monty believed the invitation was more\nthan justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so\nmuch of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell\ndesperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the\ncomposure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for\nBrewster the next day and told him to \"send her around\" and he would\nmarry her. Monty's", "of his pain, and her face said nothing.\n\n\"Peggy,\" he exclaimed, finally, resenting the necessity of answering\nher, \"you don't in the least know what you are talking about. It is not\na fit of anger on Barbara Drew's part. It is a serious conviction.\"\n\n\"A conviction which can be changed,\" the girl broke in.\n\n\"Not at all.\" Brewster took it up. \"She has no faith in me. She thinks\nI'm an ass.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she's right,\" she exclaimed,", "come another\nday and that the whole world would tremble at his approach. Disgusted\nwith himself and afraid to meet the eyes of the other men, Brewster\nwent below in search of Peggy. He took time to comfort the anxious\nwomen who crowded about him and then asked for Miss Gray. She was in\nher stateroom and would not come forth. When he knocked at the door a\ndismal, troubled voice from within told him to go away.\n\n\"Come out, Peggy; it's all over,\" he called.\n\n\"Please go away,", "the strain was relaxed and Brewster faced the bitter\nreality. Without undressing he threw himself upon the lounge and\nwondered what the world held for him. It held Peggy at least, he\nthought, and she was enough. But had he been fair to her? Was he right\nin exacting a sacrifice? His tired brain whirled in the effort to\ndecide. Only one thing was clear--that he could not give her up. The\nfuture grew black at the very thought of it. With her he could make\nthings go, but alone it was another matter", "beggar,\" came in Peggy's clear,\nsoft voice.\n\nBarbara hesitated only a moment.\n\n\"Well, you must admit, Miss Gray, that it shows a shameful lack of\ncharacter. How could any girl be happy with a man like that? And, after\nall, one must look out for one's own fate.\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" replied Peggy, but many thoughts were dashing through\nher brain.\n\n\"Shall we turn back to the cottage?\" she said, after an awkward silence.\n\n\"You certainly don't approve of", "gy went on as if unconscious of the challenge.\n\n\"He has been bored to death, poor fellow, in the house all this time,\nand--\"\n\n\"Miss Gray, please do not mention Mr. Brewster's name to me again,\"\ninterrupted Barbara, with a contraction of the eyebrows. But Peggy was\nseized with a spirit of defiance and plunged recklessly on.\n\n\"What is the use, Miss Drew, of taking an attitude like that? I know\nthe situation pretty well, and I can't believe that either Monty or you", "taunt and Mrs. Dan's\nopen criticism told plainly enough how the wind was blowing, but it was\nPeggy's gentle questions that cut the deepest. There was such honest\nconcern in her voice that he could see how his profligacy was troubling\nher and Mrs. Gray. In their eyes, more than in the others, he felt\nashamed and humiliated. Finally, goaded by the remark of a bank\ndirector which he overheard, \"Edwin P. Brewster is turning handsprings\nin his grave over the way he is", "was\ninfinitely harder to endure. When he sat down to think over his\nfinancial enterprises his mind treacherously wandered off to Peggy\nGray, and then everything was hopeless. He recalled the courage and\nconfidence that had carried him to Barbara Drew with a declaration of\nlove--to the stunning, worldly Barbara--and smiled bitterly when he saw\nhow basely the two allies were deserting him in this hour of love for\nPeggy Gray. For some reason he had felt sure of Barbara; for another\nreason he saw no chance with Peggy. She", "ursuing. Nor did it surprise him when he found that his presence was\nnot as essential to the success of some other affair as it had once\nbeen. He was not greeted as cordially as before, and he grimly wondered\nhow many of his friends would stand true to the end. The uncertainty\nmade him turn more and more often to the unquestioned loyalty of Peggy\nGray, and her little library saw him more frequently than for months.\n\nMuch as he had dreaded the pretentious and resplendent ball, it was\nuseful to him in one way at least", "do. Appearances are against me, the proof is overwhelming. A year ago I\nwas called a man, to-day they are stripping me of every claim to that\ndistinction. The world says I am a fool, a dolt, almost a criminal--but\nno one believes I am a man. Peggy, will you feel better toward me if I\ntell you that I am going to begin life all over again? It will be a new\nMonty Brewster that starts out again in a few days, or, if you will, it\nshall be the old one--the Mont", "that.\" But he thought he detected some contradiction\nin her eyes, and he was right. The girl was afraid of him, afraid of\nthe sensations he awoke, afraid desperately of betrayal.\n\n\"Pettingill may appeal to you,\" he said, and his voice was serious,\n\"but you might at least be courteous to me.\"\n\n\"How absurd you are, Monty Brewster.\" The girl grew hot. \"You needn't\nthink that your million gives you the privilege of dictating to all of\nyour guests.\"\n\n\"Peggy,", "all the time?\"\n\nThe day after the carnival Brewster drove his guests over to Monte\nCarlo. He meant to stay only long enough to try his luck at the tables\nand lose enough to make up for the days at sea when his purse was\nnecessarily idle. Swearengen Jones was forgotten, and soon after his\narrival he began to plunge. At first he lost heavily, and it was with\ndifficulty that he concealed his joy. Peggy Gray was watching him, and\nin whispers implored him to stop, but Mrs. Dan excited", "I\ndon't see how he can decide against me. He insisted on making a pauper\nof me and he can't have the heart to throw me down now. But, what if he\nshould take it into his head to be ugly! I wonder if I could break the\nwill--I wonder if I could beat him out in court.\"\n\nPeggy was waiting for him. Her cheeks were flushed as with a fever. She\nhad caught from him the mad excitement of the occasion.\n\n\"Come, Peggy,\" he exclaimed, eagerly. \"This is our last", "Mr. Brewster's conduct?\" Barbara did\nnot like to be placed in the wrong, and felt that she must endeavor to\njustify herself. \"He is the most reckless of spend-thrifts, we know,\nand he probably indulges in even less respectable excitement.\"\n\nPeggy was not tall, but she carried her head at this moment as though\nshe were in the habit of looking down on the world.\n\n\"Aren't you going a little too far, Miss Drew?\" she asked placidly.\n\n\"It is not only New York", "the search\nwas fruitless.\n\nBrewster refused to accept a share of the glory of Peggy's rescue,\npushing Conroy forward as the real hero. But the sailor insisted that\nhe could not have succeeded without help,--that he was completely\nexhausted when Monty came to the rescue. Peggy found it hard to thank\nhim gently while her heart was so dangerously near the riot point, and\nher words of gratitude sounded pitifully weak and insufficient.\n\n\"It would have been the same had anybody else gone to her rescue,\" he\nm" ] ]

[ "What can't Monty tell other people?", "How much must Monty spend during the first year?", "Whose money was it that Monty had to spend all of in a year?", "How much will Monty receive if he spends all one million dollars?", "What does Monty bail out with his money?", "Who shows up at Monty's wedding to deliver the money?", "How long did the cruise to Europe and Egypt last?", "Who falls in love with Monty despite his financial status?", "Who does Brewster inherit the money from?", "What limit is Brewster required to spend every penny of the million within?", "What is Brewster required to demonstrate?", "Why Can Brewster not tell anyone ?", "Who tries to limit Brewster's losses?", "What does Brewster Charter in order to decrease his funds?", "Who does Brewster save from his cruise?", "What type of Character does Brewster demonstrate through his actions?", "Who turns down Monty's proposal?", "Who does Monty confess to ?", "What does Montegomery Brewster receive from his grandfather? ", "What is the condition that Brewster's uncle makes for giving him the inheritance? ", "What happens to Brewster's money when he attempts to lose it in stock speculation?", "Why does Brewster jump overboard on the cruise?", "Why does Barbara Drew turn down Brewster's marriage proposal?", "Who is Peggy Gray in the story?", "Why does Brewster fall in love with Peggy Gray?", "What happens to Brewster the night before the deadline?", "Why did Brewster bailout a bank?", "What does Peggy Gray do despite discovering Brewster is now poor?" ]

[ [ "The reason why he is living in excess.", "why he is splurging" ], [ "One million dollars.", "$1 million" ], [ "His grandfather's money.", "His grandfather's." ], [ "Seven million dollars.", "7 million dollars" ], [ "A bank.", "A bank." ], [ "The executor of his uncle's inheritance.", "the executor of the will" ], [ "Several months.", "several months" ], [ "Peggy Gray.", "Peggy Gray." ], [ "His grandfather", "his grandfather" ], [ "One Year", "a year" ], [ "Business Sense", "Business sense." ], [ "He is sworn to secrecy", "He is sworn to secrecy" ], [ "His friends", "his friends" ], [ "A Cruise", "a cruise" ], [ "A drowning sailor", "a sailor" ], [ "Strong moral character", "Strong moral character." ], [ "Drew", "Barbara Drew" ], [ "Peggy", "Peggy Gray" ], [ "A one million dollar inheritance.", "$1 million" ], [ "Brewster must spend the one million dollars from his grandfather's inheritance in a year.", "could not keep any of grandfather's money" ], [ "He increases his profits.", "it increases" ], [ "To save a drown sailor.", "To save a drowning sailor." ], [ "She believe's he is financially irresponsible.", "as he seemed to be financially irresponsible and doomed to be poor" ], [ "Another love interest of Montgomery Brewster", "Monty's love interest and woman he marries." ], [ "She is sympathetic to his lifestyle.", "she is sympathetic to his lifestyle" ], [ "The executor of his uncle's will disappears after liquidating all of the assets.", "He finds out the executor of his uncle's will disappeared after liquidating the assets." ], [ "To save his landlady's account.", "to save his land lady's account" ], [ "She marries him anyway.", "Accepts Brewster and marries him." ] ]

[ [ "estranged from her husband. They\n barely speak.\"\n\nShe throws the paper on the floor.\n\n SOFYA\n You know who spreads all this\n rubbish....\n\nShe opens another paper, a French daily.\n\n SOFYA\n C'est la meme en France. They\n gossip about us in Paris... \"They\n do not share a similar view of\n either religion or politics.\"\n Incroyable!\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n (smiling)\n Pe", "this.\n\n SOFYA\n Sit down, Valentin.\n\n VALENTIN\n Really, I'm expected at\n Telyatinki.\n\nShe waves it off.\n\n SOFYA\n No, no, no. Enjoy your dinner.\n We've had a disagreement. No more\n than any other married couple.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I didn't come for more\n recrimination. Despite good cause\n for alienation between us, I have\n ", "a school\n where I taught. He was married -\n happily married. It was\n difficult. We could make love\n only at school.\n\nThis is somehow more than Valentin had bargained for.\n\n VALENTIN\n At school?\n\n MASHA\n In the gymnasium, after the girls\n had gone. There were straw mats\n on the floor.\n\n VALENTIN\n I see...\n\n 27.\n\n\nHe looks away to hide his confusion.\n\n ", "still cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. She\n stands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on the\n bed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling.\n\n She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in her\n face, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, but\n he sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions it\n under her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it around\n her. The image", "They both watch Sofya's passion. Her face quivers, the\n muscles in her neck stand out. Her shoulders begin to\n shake.\n\n Crumbling the paper in her hand, she twists her head and\n screams. Then, gathering up her dress, she runs out the\n door.\n\n Sasha move immediately to the window. From her P.O.V., we\n see Sofya streaking across the lawn.\n\n They look at each other\n\n SASHA\n The pond!\n\n They run out.", "a great affection for\n Vladimir Grigorivich. Let them\n laugh if they find it amusing.\n\n SOFYA\n But it's not amusing, darling.\n It's sick. It's not normal. You\n hang on his every word.\n\n TOLSTOY\n We have a great deal in common.\n\n SOFYA\n You have nothing in common. You\n are a genius. He's a sycophant\n and a pervert.\n\n ", "aculous.\n\n TOLSTOY\n ...as if she had read my mind.\n In that moment, we both knew we\n would always be together. For\n those first years, we were\n incredibly happy, terrifyingly\n happy.\n\n His old eyes are wet.\n\n TOLSTOY\n And now this.\n\n Tolstoy reaches into his boot, extracts his SECRET DIARY.\n He takes a pen from his shirt, begins to write. Valentin is\n amazed. HE HAD", "ya.\n\n A sly smile on her lips, the tension gone from her face,\n she seems twenty years younger.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya, are you ill?\n\n She rolls toward him making it clear she's quite naked\n under the sheets. This is no sick bed.\n\n SOFYA\n I'm fine...now that you're home.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's no good, you know, all this.\n You frightened everyone.\n\n SOF", "She shoos them away.\n\n\n73 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. DAY. 73\n\n Valentin turns his head. Did he hear something?\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's my wife. She´s part of me.\n We've been together now, so many\n years....\n\n Chertkov drives the point home.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But you're more than a husband\n and father. She must understand", "doesn't know what to do. He's losing her. He\nshouts.\n\n VALENTIN\n Masha...\n\nShe turns\n\n 52.\n\n\n VALENTIN\n Before the other night...I'd\n committed the act of copulation\n many times in my heart.\n\n He has her attention now, as well as that of a number of\n the disciples who look up from their work in the yard.\n\n MASHA\n Yes...\n\n VALENTIN", "stifles it, starts again,\n stifles, starts, explodes. Guilty.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Perhaps Sasha's right.\n Encouraging this may not be the\n best thing.\n\n 40.\n\n\n SASHA\n It's a trick, Papa. She'll drain\n you. You'll be miserable.\n\n Tolstoy looks from one to the other, gets up from his\n chair.\n\n SASHA\n Then,", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", "her, then stops.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Why? Why? Why, do you do it? We\n live in the country and you\n insist on making it an opera\n house. What's wrong with a little\n peace now and then?\n\n Sofya laughs.\n\n SOFYA\n Look at me. This is who I am.\n This is what you married. We're\n older, maybe we're old, but I'm\n still your little", "she takes each\n bucket and fills it. It's hot work. Pausing a moment, she\n kneels to splash water on her face.\n\n Another P.O.V. - someone watches her from the trees.\n\n As Masha wets a cloth, puts it around her neck. Suddenly\n someone grabs her from behind. She screams, wrestle her\n way free. She turns to see Valentin, flushed, smiling,\n excited. He steps toward her, kicks over one of the\n buckets.\n\n ", "Sit down.\n (beat)\n So, this is what love is. Does\n that surprise you, boy?\n\nThey both look at him\n\n VALENTIN\n I thought it might be quieter,\n but-\n\n 59.\n\n\nHe sneezes violently.\n\n TOLSTOY/SOFYA\n God bless you\n\nTolstoy turns to Sofya.\n\n TOLSTOY\n He's right, though. If we cannot\n live", ")\n \"Never stopped, my little bird.\"\n (beat)\n \"And you will never stop\"\n (beat)\n \"Never.\"\n (beat)\n \"Nor ever leave me again.\"\n (beat)\n \"Never, ever again.\n (beat)\n \"Good...good... let's go home\"\n\n 96.\n\n\nShe sits very still holding her husband's hand. Then, it\nseems she feels the slightest of movements, the slightest\nsqueeze of her hand", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", " 8.\n\n DUSHAN (cont'd)\n and if you must ride, I insist\n you wear a coat. Even the sun is\n cold today.\n\nHe puts Tolstoy's arm down and hands him his riding boot.\nSofya comes ranting into the room carrying several Russian\nand international dailies.\n\n SOFYA\n This is impossible! It really is!\n These people are parasites!\n Look...\n (reading)\n \"Countess Tolstoy has become\n ", ". She looks at Valentin, who\n nods at her as if to say go on. Sofya walks past Chertkov\n without acknowledging him. Dushan lets go his hold of\n Tolstoy's wrist and gets out of the chair, out of her way.\n She approaches her sleeping, husband, the love of her life,\n her cross, her everything.\n\n 95.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka!\n\nThere is no response. She throws her arms around him.\n\n", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it" ], [ "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I need a pen.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Of course.\n\nChertkov looks at Sergeyenko who swallows hard. No pen.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n I...uh...\n\n CHERTKOV\n What?\n\nSergeyenko moves close to Chertkov, close enough to\nwhisper.\n\n CHERTKOV\n You're a secretary. How can you\n not have a pen", "?\n\nSergeyenko points at Valentin.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n He's a secretary, too. Ask him.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Valentin Fedorovich, do you have\n a pen?\n\n 65.\n\n\n Valentin hesitates for a moment, looks at Tolstoy, seated\n on the stump, staring into the middle distance.\n\n VALENTIN\n I do.\n\n Valentin fetches it from his sat", " A handsome study in the Moscow townhouse of VLADIMIR\n GRIGOREVICH CHERTKOV, Tolstoy's most articulate and\n dedicated disciple. He's interviewing Tolstoy's newly\n appointed secretary, VALENTIN BULGAKOV, the young man we\n met near the train, who, at the mention of sex, blushes a\n little.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But sex... You are twenty three.\n Not an easy age for abstinence,", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "aculous.\n\n TOLSTOY\n ...as if she had read my mind.\n In that moment, we both knew we\n would always be together. For\n those first years, we were\n incredibly happy, terrifyingly\n happy.\n\n His old eyes are wet.\n\n TOLSTOY\n And now this.\n\n Tolstoy reaches into his boot, extracts his SECRET DIARY.\n He takes a pen from his shirt, begins to write. Valentin is\n amazed. HE HAD", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "19.\n\n\nValentin doesn't know what to say. A giggle from Dushan.\n\n DUSHAN\n Oh, that's good...that's good.\n\nDushan, having sat at table, tries surreptitiously to get\ndown Tolstoy's words in the diary he holds below the table.\nSofya flushes with anger.\n\n VALENTIN\n I think...(sneeze)\n\n SOFYA\n Stop scribbling!\n (points to her", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "didn't\n sneeze.\n\n\n86 OMITTED 86\n\n\n87 OMITTED 87\n\n\n88 OMITTED 88\n\n 68.\n\n\n89 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY STUDY/BEDROOM. DAY. 89\n\n Tolstoy has fallen asleep at his desk, his SECRET DIARY\n open before him.", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", "She shoos them away.\n\n\n73 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. DAY. 73\n\n Valentin turns his head. Did he hear something?\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's my wife. She´s part of me.\n We've been together now, so many\n years....\n\n Chertkov drives the point home.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But you're more than a husband\n and father. She must understand", "\n correspondence...\n\nChertkov raises an eyebrow. An ominous silence.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I have another task for you, my\n dear.\n\n VALENTIN\n Please.\n\n CHERTKOV\n You'll keep a diary for me.\n\nHe hands Valentin a notebook.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I need to know everything that\n goes on at Yasnaya Polyana. Let\n me know who visits the house, any\n talk of", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", "\n My dear friend, waht is all of\n this?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I needed (hic) to see you. Thank\n you. We have so much (hic) to\n do. (hic) I´m sorry. Damn hic\n ups.\n (beat)\n Have you seen Sofya?\n\n CHERTKOV\n I've made a point not to.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I don't", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n " ], [ " A handsome study in the Moscow townhouse of VLADIMIR\n GRIGOREVICH CHERTKOV, Tolstoy's most articulate and\n dedicated disciple. He's interviewing Tolstoy's newly\n appointed secretary, VALENTIN BULGAKOV, the young man we\n met near the train, who, at the mention of sex, blushes a\n little.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But sex... You are twenty three.\n Not an easy age for abstinence,", " for the welfare of the family.\n\n CHERTKOV\n (to Tolstoy)\n And we're concerned for the\n welfare of mankind.\n (to Bulgakov)\n Take this down.\n\n Valentin records the conversation in his diary.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It´s a terrible thing you ask. I\n can´t do it.\n\n\n70 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S B", "\n Chertkov beneath a large banner : \"Leo Tolstoy, Friend of\n the People.\". Behind him, the disciples lay out a\n vegetarian feast on a plank table. Photographers and a\n cinematographer are strategically positioned to record the\n event.\n\n Each child gives Tolstoy a flower. Chertkov, in turn, hands\n each child a photograph of the Count giving money to the\n poor.\n\n Valentin enters, flushed and blushing. He pauses beside\n Dushan who", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", "\n\n Tolstoy sits on a small staircase at the end of the hall.\n Bulgakov is already there on the step above him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Take them downstairs. Thank them\n for me. Offer them a drink.\n\n DUSHAN\n You'll be alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Valentin Fedorovich will stay\n with me, won't you, boy\n\n Valentin nods. Dushan goes to collect the doctors.\n\n MOMENT", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "\"Clear the tracks. Let them pass. Let them\n go.\" Tolstoy closes the door and waves to the crowd as the\n train pulls away.\n\n\n3 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE. DAY. 3\n\n On the chanting crowd now as the train pulls away. We\n focus on a handsome young man, a little stiff maybe, a\n little intellectual. This is VALENTIN FEDOROVITCH\n BULGAKOV. He can't contain his enthusiasm. Over the noise\n of the", "19.\n\n\nValentin doesn't know what to say. A giggle from Dushan.\n\n DUSHAN\n Oh, that's good...that's good.\n\nDushan, having sat at table, tries surreptitiously to get\ndown Tolstoy's words in the diary he holds below the table.\nSofya flushes with anger.\n\n VALENTIN\n I think...(sneeze)\n\n SOFYA\n Stop scribbling!\n (points to her", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", " 16.\n\n\nHe tromps across the room, kisses the boy enthusiastically\non both cheeks. Valentin is overcome by the great man's\nwarmth.\n\n VALENTIN\n I'm... I'm... Here is-\n\nValentin interrupts himself with a sneeze.\n\n TOLSTOY\n God bless you.\n\n VALENTIN\n I'm sorry. Sometimes I...\n\nValentin pulls out a letter of introduction. Tolstoy takes\nit out and puts", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "TOLSTOY\n Sit. Sit.\n\nValentin sits down.\n\n 17.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Myself, my brother, my children,\n at least five or six of them,\n right here.\n (beat)\n Now, I've read your essays. How`s\n your work progressing?\n\n Valentin looks into the great man's kind old face. He tries\n to speak but he's overcome with emotion and begins to weep.\n\n", "Tolstoy walk together in the woods. .\n\n TOLSTOY\n I couldn't write. I was\n distracted I think...I had a\n dream last night, about a Tartar\n girl I knew in the war.\n\n VALENTIN\n A girl who died?\n\n TOLSTOY\n No, no...A girl I had sexual\n intercourse with... Sometimes we\n did it twice a day.\n\n Valentin sneezes.\n\n ", " TOLSTOY\n My boy, what is it?\n (beat)\n I upset you in some way. Was it\n the sofa? It's only a sofa.\n\n Valentin shakes his head, smiling through his tears.\n\n VALENTIN\n I'm very happy. You are very\n kind. I'm no one and you are...\n you are Leo Tolstoy and you ask\n me about my work.\n\n Tolstoy takes Valentin's hand, sits him back on sofa.\n", " here at Telyatinki obviously\n agrees with you.\n\nValentin sneezes mightily, moves a little away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n God bless you, boy. What are you\n nervous about, now? Sit down. Sit\n down.\n\nValentin takes the chair beside him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dear Masha, Valentin tells me\n you're the great treasure of\n Telyatinki. He claims you're a\n very gifted teacher.\n\nSerge", ", he\n sits in Tolstoy's chair. Before him are stacks of letters,\n pens and pencils, a pot of India ink. There's a notebook\n lying open. He leans forward to read it. A noise in the\n hall stops him.\n\n Tolstoy enters from the dining room, red cheeked, beard\n dripping wet, the energy of a man ten years younger than he\n is. Valentin stands.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm glad you're here. So glad.\n\n", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", ". She looks at Valentin, who\n nods at her as if to say go on. Sofya walks past Chertkov\n without acknowledging him. Dushan lets go his hold of\n Tolstoy's wrist and gets out of the chair, out of her way.\n She approaches her sleeping, husband, the love of her life,\n her cross, her everything.\n\n 95.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka!\n\nThere is no response. She throws her arms around him.\n\n", ", to...\n\n TOLSTOY\n To be what, a good Tolstoyan?\n\nTolstoy smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I myself am not a very\n good Tolstoyan. You should think\n twice about asking my advice\n about anything... Torture...\n (he laughs)\n\n VALENTIN\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Kalya, her name was...She's an\n old woman now, white hair" ], [ "ignoring him.\n\n SOFYA\n It's not for lack of land that\n the muzhiks live in poverty.\n They have no will power and they\n drink too much.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm not suggesting they be given\n land. Private property is the\n root of the problem... We should\n be giving ours away.\n\n ANDREY\n Give it to whom?\n\n SOFYA\n It's all ridiculous. You think\n that poverty makes", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "'s here to question you about\n the new will.\n\n Chertkov nervous, tugs at his moustache.\n\n CHERTKOV\n How does she know it even exists?\n\n VALENTIN\n She claims Leo Nikolayevich told\n her she could examine the draft.\n\n CHERTKOV\n He is obviously not thinking\n clearly. And now we have to put\n up with her petty grasping.\n\n VALENTIN\n It doesn't seem petty to", "\n Chertkov beneath a large banner : \"Leo Tolstoy, Friend of\n the People.\". Behind him, the disciples lay out a\n vegetarian feast on a plank table. Photographers and a\n cinematographer are strategically positioned to record the\n event.\n\n Each child gives Tolstoy a flower. Chertkov, in turn, hands\n each child a photograph of the Count giving money to the\n poor.\n\n Valentin enters, flushed and blushing. He pauses beside\n Dushan who", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", "of the Russian people.\"\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, they won't move. We are\n gonna die here. Leo, Leo, go and\n say something to them. It's the\n only way we are gonna get out of\n here.\n\n The chanting grows in intensity. Tolstoy gets to his feet,\n walks to the window, shows himself to the crowd. A great\n shout goes up. Tolstoy lifts his hand for silence.\n Gradually, it comes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "the peasants\n somehow morally superior.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I believe that wealth corrupts us\n all, yes I do.\n\nA pause. Valentin fills the silence.\n\n VALENTIN\n It's a keystone of the movement.\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, I know all about the\n movement.\n\nA pause. Valentin notices that people from the front lawn\nhave moved up to watch all this. Life in the fishbowl, the\nTolstoys seem neither", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", " for the welfare of the family.\n\n CHERTKOV\n (to Tolstoy)\n And we're concerned for the\n welfare of mankind.\n (to Bulgakov)\n Take this down.\n\n Valentin records the conversation in his diary.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It´s a terrible thing you ask. I\n can´t do it.\n\n\n70 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S B" ], [ "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "\n Chertkov beneath a large banner : \"Leo Tolstoy, Friend of\n the People.\". Behind him, the disciples lay out a\n vegetarian feast on a plank table. Photographers and a\n cinematographer are strategically positioned to record the\n event.\n\n Each child gives Tolstoy a flower. Chertkov, in turn, hands\n each child a photograph of the Count giving money to the\n poor.\n\n Valentin enters, flushed and blushing. He pauses beside\n Dushan who", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", "of the Russian people.\"\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, they won't move. We are\n gonna die here. Leo, Leo, go and\n say something to them. It's the\n only way we are gonna get out of\n here.\n\n The chanting grows in intensity. Tolstoy gets to his feet,\n walks to the window, shows himself to the crowd. A great\n shout goes up. Tolstoy lifts his hand for silence.\n Gradually, it comes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", " So Gusev is innocent?\n\n TOLSTOY\n (nods)\n Of course, I'm the guilty one. I\n reject the Orthodox church. I\n condemn the established order and\n I make no secret of it.\n\nA young peasant shouts from the crowd.\n\n PEASANT\n God bless you, Tolstoy. Thank\n you.\n\n DUSHAN\n Let him walk. Let him walk.\n (to Tolstoy)\n But you don't ban", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", " INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. DAY. 69\n\n Chertkov, Sasha, Dushan, Valentin and Tolstoy sit in a\n little clump by his desk. Tolstoy his head in his hands,\n looks at the floor.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I hate to say it but the Countess\n has become more and more\n dangerous.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not dangerous... She's concerned\n ", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", " A handsome study in the Moscow townhouse of VLADIMIR\n GRIGOREVICH CHERTKOV, Tolstoy's most articulate and\n dedicated disciple. He's interviewing Tolstoy's newly\n appointed secretary, VALENTIN BULGAKOV, the young man we\n met near the train, who, at the mention of sex, blushes a\n little.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But sex... You are twenty three.\n Not an easy age for abstinence,", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible" ], [ "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "\n\n SOFYA\n Please forgive me if I cry a\n little now.\n\nTolstoy continues to struggle, then silence, silence.\n\nSasha starts to sob. Sofya reaches out to her daughter.\nSasha comes to her mother who holds her.\n\nShe feels someone next to her. She looks up. It's\nChertkov.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I am sorry, Sofya Andreyevna.\n\nThe most unlikely thing, she pats his hand.\n\n SOF", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", ". She looks at Valentin, who\n nods at her as if to say go on. Sofya walks past Chertkov\n without acknowledging him. Dushan lets go his hold of\n Tolstoy's wrist and gets out of the chair, out of her way.\n She approaches her sleeping, husband, the love of her life,\n her cross, her everything.\n\n 95.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka!\n\nThere is no response. She throws her arms around him.\n\n", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "\n\nSofya smiles at his honesty.\n\n SOFYA\n When he was writing it, long\n before Chertkov created that\n monstrosity at Telyatinki, before\n all this \"new religion\" and\n revolutionary nonsense...\n (beat)\n What do you think of Chertkov, by\n the way?\n\n VALENTIN\n He's given me an extraordinary\n opportunity.\n\n SOFYA\n But you see what a fool he is, a\n ", " papers will like that!\n\n As he goes, we hear.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n This is unbearable. You don't\n want a husband. You want a Greek\n chorus.\n\n Sofya is taken aback by his response. She walks out of the\n room.\n\n\n61 EXT. ROAD TO TELYATINKI. DAY 61\n\n Four peasants pull a water cart down a rough country road.\n We pan off to see Sof", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", "\n that's good. The reports I've\n received from you however...\n There seems to be some confusion.\n\n VALENTIN\n What do you mean?\n\n CHERTKOV\n You send me never ending\n commentary on Tolstoy's writing.\n That's all very interesting but\n not very useful. I need to know\n what goes on with Sofya\n Andreyevna. You must see by now\n she's committed to undermining\n her husband's best intentions.", "a great affection for\n Vladimir Grigorivich. Let them\n laugh if they find it amusing.\n\n SOFYA\n But it's not amusing, darling.\n It's sick. It's not normal. You\n hang on his every word.\n\n TOLSTOY\n We have a great deal in common.\n\n SOFYA\n You have nothing in common. You\n are a genius. He's a sycophant\n and a pervert.\n\n ", "estranged from her husband. They\n barely speak.\"\n\nShe throws the paper on the floor.\n\n SOFYA\n You know who spreads all this\n rubbish....\n\nShe opens another paper, a French daily.\n\n SOFYA\n C'est la meme en France. They\n gossip about us in Paris... \"They\n do not share a similar view of\n either religion or politics.\"\n Incroyable!\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n (smiling)\n Pe", "still cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. She\n stands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on the\n bed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling.\n\n She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in her\n face, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, but\n he sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions it\n under her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it around\n her. The image", " 8.\n\n DUSHAN (cont'd)\n and if you must ride, I insist\n you wear a coat. Even the sun is\n cold today.\n\nHe puts Tolstoy's arm down and hands him his riding boot.\nSofya comes ranting into the room carrying several Russian\nand international dailies.\n\n SOFYA\n This is impossible! It really is!\n These people are parasites!\n Look...\n (reading)\n \"Countess Tolstoy has become\n ", "S LATER-Tolstoy goes to Sofya's bed. He takes her\n hand. She looks at him with all the love of a new bride.\n Tears come to his eyes. He kisses her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Ya...your...your...I can´t\n remember now...Yo, what did I\n say? What did you mean?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You rest now.\n\n Valentin watches from the doorway as Tolstoy leaves the\n bedside and walks out", "ignoring him.\n\n SOFYA\n It's not for lack of land that\n the muzhiks live in poverty.\n They have no will power and they\n drink too much.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm not suggesting they be given\n land. Private property is the\n root of the problem... We should\n be giving ours away.\n\n ANDREY\n Give it to whom?\n\n SOFYA\n It's all ridiculous. You think\n that poverty makes" ], [ "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "oy has moved himself out of the refined upper floors\n into a simple vaulted room he uses as both bedroom and\n study. The walls are bare except for a portrait of his\n daughter. The furniture is simple, some of it hand made: a\n small bed against the wall, a little writing desk in one\n corner stacked with books, littered with papers, more mail,\n opened and unopened. Pairs of rude homemade shoes line a\n work bench.\n\n Tolstoy sleeps in his bed. Though it's late March and\n ", "asha, lamp in hand, crouches\n beside him.\n\n SASHA\n Get up. He's leaving.\n\n VALENTIN\n What?\n\n SASHA\n He´s leaving.\n\n\n95 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY'S BEDROOM/STUDY. NIGHT. 95\n\n Bags are being prepared. Sasha is packing clothes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Essentials only. Nothing that\n", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", " over and over.\n\n SASHA\n Be well. Be well.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Don't cry. I'll send for you when\n I can.\n\n They help him up onto the droshky and the carriage starts\n slowly away from the old house.\n\n\n97 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. MORNING 97\n\n Out in front of the house, an old peasant woman pulls the\n feathers off a chicken", "ya.\n\n A sly smile on her lips, the tension gone from her face,\n she seems twenty years younger.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya, are you ill?\n\n She rolls toward him making it clear she's quite naked\n under the sheets. This is no sick bed.\n\n SOFYA\n I'm fine...now that you're home.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's no good, you know, all this.\n You frightened everyone.\n\n SOF", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "LIBRARY. DAY. 90\n\n Valentin waits on the sofa. Tolstoy walks in, goes to him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n What is it, dear boy? You look\n unhappy. What do you want to\n say?\n\n But before Valentin can respond A GUNSHOT RINGS OUT.\n\n\n91 OMITTED 91\n\n\n92 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY BEDROOM/", "0.\n\n\n Sofya throws the gun at her husband. She runs out of the\n room. We see the shattered photograph of Chertkov.\n\n After a moment, Tolstoy into his chair. Valentin watches\n him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'd like you to stay here\n tonight.\n\n VALENTIN\n Yes, of course.\n\n With that, the old man gets up and leaves the room, leaving\n Valentin in the wreckage of his world.\n\n\n9", "YANA. LIBRARY. NIGHT 119\n\n A message comes over the cable machine.\n\n VALENTIN (O.S.)\n Tolstoy ill at Astapovo.\n Temperature high. Send it to\n Sofya Andreyevna, Yasnaya\n Polyana.\n\n\n120 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. NIGHT. 120\n\n Sofya paces. Andrey loll", ", agonizing beat.\n\n SASHA\n She's at home. I'm sure of it.\n\n Valentin looks at the floor.\n\n TOLSTOY\n At home.\n\n SASHA\n Yes, Papa.\n\n Tolstoy nods, pats Sasha's hand.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Very beautiful isn't it?\n\n SASHA\n Our home?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Yes.", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "02 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. DAY 102\n\n Sasha, on horse back, rides up and by the camera and away\n down the alley of trees that lead away from the house.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n They've all gone\n\n\n103 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. DAY. 103\n\n Sitting at his desk, Valentin looks", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from" ], [ "STAPOVO. TRAIN CARRIAGE. NIGHT. 142\n\n Everyone sleeps but Sofya. There is a knock on the door.\n Sofya opens it. It is Sasha. A pause.\n\n SOFYA\n Has he asked for me?\n\n SASHA\n I want you to come. Take a coat.\n It's cold.\n\n\n143 EXT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. NIGHT.", " OMITTED 129\n\n\n130 INT. ASTAPOVO. PRIVATE TRAIN. DAWN. 130\n\n Valentin, in his wrinkled suit, is asleep in a chair. He\n wakes to see Sofya stretched out on the sofa. He watches\n her. She doesn't stir. After a moment, he goes out.\n\n\n131 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY 131\n\n Valent", "\n\n SASHA\n She's coming this way.\n\n Chertkov starts to put on his coat.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Not before she stops to tell them\n lies, catalogue my atrocities.\n\n VALENTIN\n Let me speak to her.\n\n He heads toward the door.\n\n\n127 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY 127\n\n Sofya has reached the edge of the platform where D", "Sofya looks out the window, sees the people lined up along\n the rail, mourn her loss. As she looks away, we see the\n people reflected in the glass, some of them kneel, some of\n them remove their hats.\n\n Valentin watches the train pull away. He holds Masha to\n him.\n\n As the train moves slowly through the corridor of mourners,\n some of them fall in and walk behind it. The camera travels\n up and up as the train travels north taking Sofya and her\n husband back ", " 143\n\n Sofya and Sasha walk to the door. The reporter calls out\n\n REPORTER\n Countess...Countess...Do you have\n any information? Countess...Is he\n dying? Is he dead?\n\n Sasha takes her mother's hand.\n\n\n144 INT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 144\n\n She steps into the room. For a moment, she seems\n overwhelmed at the sight of him", " 149\n\n Sofya sits back down with Sasha. They hold hands.\n\n SOFYA\n Well, I'm ready to go now.\n (to Andrey)\n Why aren´t we moving? Can't\n someone make it move?\n\n But at that moment, the train begins to move.\n\n SOFYA\n Oh!\n\n\n150 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 150\n\n ", "\n\n\n147 INT. ASTAPOVO. PRIVATE CARRIAGE. DAY. 147\n\n Sofya settles into the comfort of the private car. She sits\n next to Sasha. Andrey and Dushan are near her. There's a\n noise from outside.\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n Countess...Countess.\n\n She looks out. Below the train window, Valentin and Masha\n stand hand in hand. She gets up and opens the window.", "\n\n Dushan appears in the doorway. Solemn, he gestures for him\n to come inside. Valentin stands.\n\n\n140 INT. ASTAPOVO. PRIVATE TRAIN CARRIAGE. NIGHT. 140\n\n Sofya watches the two figures disappear inside.\n\n\n141 INT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 141\n\n Valentin sees Chertkov standing near the bed. Dushan\n returns to", " he chooses to confess, mother\n church is there to embrace him\n with open arms.\n\n She nods.\n\n SOFYA\n I'll see what I can do, father.\n\n She moves with purpose across the tracks and through the\n throng Reporters pelt her with questions.\n\n\n126 INT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. DAY. 126\n\n Chertkov, Sasha and Valentin watch through the window.", "A\n Did you ride this morning?\n\n A small crowd collects to watch father and daughter\n embrace, kiss.\n\n A WIDE SHOT of the riders- cutting around we are\n\n\n13 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/STAIR. CONTINUOUS. 13\n\n Sofya watches her husband and daughter ride away.\n\n\n14 EXT. RIVER VALLEY. DAY 14\n\n A steam train snakes through a broad", " back.\n\n\n\n\n128 EXT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. DAY 128\n\n As Valentin arrives outside the door, he see Sofya\n physically recoil. She is confronted by Chertkov and Sasha\n blocking the door.\n\n SOFYA\n I want to see my husband.\n\n Members of the press, crowd `round trying to listen.\n\n SASHA\n He's too weak now, mother.", "walks to his desk.\n\n\n59 OMITTED 59\n\n\n60 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. DAY. 60\n\n Tolstoy looks up from his work. Sofya stands in the\n doorway.\n\n SOFYA\n Tomorrow, I'll go to the Station\n and lie down on the track.\n Tolstoy's wife becomes Anna\n Karenina herself! See how the\n", "daughter SASHA,\n and his personal physician DUSHAN MAKOVITSKY. Sasha and\n Dushan write in their diaries. Sofya looks from one to the\n next a little impatient. The train begins to slow.\n\n SOFYA\n Why are we slowing down?\n\n No one responds. Slower. Slower.\n\n SOFYA\n We're stopping. Why are we\n stopping?\n\n SASHA\n I don't know, mother. ", "looks like\n you, doesn´t it?\n\n Valentin leaves the room.\n\n\n137 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. NIGHT. 137\n\n The circus sleeps. Valentin sits on a bench outside the\n station master's house. The tents erected by the press\n glow like lanterns in the field.\n\n 93.\n\n\n Some people lie on the hard platform. He looks across the\n tracks at Sofya's private car", "s on the couch reading the paper.\n\n SOFYA\n We must leave at once.\n\n ANDREY\n We'll make inquiries in the\n morning, mother.\n\n SOFYA\n We'll rent a train.\n\n ANDREY\n That'll cost a fortune.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't say irrelevant things,\n Andrey. It's unbecoming.\n Contact someone. I'll go and", "Let me die. Please. Why would\n you rob me of that?\n\n SASHA\n Let's go to the house.\n\nSofya is suddenly clear, almost calm.\n\n SOFYA\n Ivan, go to the station. Find out\n which train the master took.\n\nIvan looks at Sasha for approval.\n\n SASHA\n I see no harm in it. Let's get\n her to bed.\n\nValentin nods. Ivan appears beside him.\n\n IVAN\n", "AY. 32A\n\n Sofya walks into the house with another stack of mail.\n Sasha comes piling down the stairs.\n\n SASHA\n Where's papa?\n\n Without waiting for the answer, Sasha races past her and\n out the door\n\n\n33 OMITTED 33\n\n\n34 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ZASYEKA WOODS. DAY 34\n\n Valentin and", "A\n I lost five children. Why\n couldn't one of them have been\n you?\n\n Chertkov watches, makes little attempt to conceal his\n pleasure.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you finished?\n\n A pause. Sofya is suddenly aware of the crowd around her.\n\n SOFYA\n Valentin, will you take me back?\n\n Valentin nods.\n\n VALENTIN\n Yes, of course.\n\n Sofya takes his", "\n other like they will never let go.\n\n\n146 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 146\n\n A black draped funeral train waits in the station. Many\n mourners are congregated on the platform. Chertkov comes\n out of the little house, followed by Andrey, Valentin and\n Dushan carrying Tolstoy's coffin to the train.\n\n Sofya appears with Sasha, who escorts her through the\n crowd. The Orthodox priest approaches", ". A single light burns in the\n window\n\n\n138 INT. ASTAPOVO. PRIVATE TRAIN CARRIAGE. NIGHT. 138\n\n Sofya keeps her solitary vigil. The priest has fallen\n asleep sitting up. She finishes her prayers, gets up,\n looks across at the lonely cottage. She can make out\n Valentin's figure on the platform.\n\n\n139 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM.NIGHT 139" ], [ "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", " one million rubles.\n\n Silence.\n\n SOFYA\n How can you not be pleased?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I don't write for publishers. I\n write for people.\n\n He gets up from his desk.\n\n SOFYA\n Where are you going?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Valentin's in the library. He's\n asked to speak to me.\n\n SOFYA\n S", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", "still cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. She\n stands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on the\n bed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling.\n\n She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in her\n face, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, but\n he sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions it\n under her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it around\n her. The image", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "YANA. LIBRARY. NIGHT 119\n\n A message comes over the cable machine.\n\n VALENTIN (O.S.)\n Tolstoy ill at Astapovo.\n Temperature high. Send it to\n Sofya Andreyevna, Yasnaya\n Polyana.\n\n\n120 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. NIGHT. 120\n\n Sofya paces. Andrey loll", "02 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. DAY 102\n\n Sasha, on horse back, rides up and by the camera and away\n down the alley of trees that lead away from the house.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n They've all gone\n\n\n103 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. DAY. 103\n\n Sitting at his desk, Valentin looks", "s heart on a platter? Her\n kidneys? With salt? But of\n course, my dear Chertkov,\n whatever pleases you. The china.\n The estate. Permanent copyright\n on everything I've ever written?\n Anything for you, my love.\"\n\n 56.\n\n\nHer eye falls on Dushan, who very unfortunately, has chosen\nto take this down in his diary.\n\n SOFYA\n Give me that. Give it to me, you\n little weasel", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "S LATER-Tolstoy goes to Sofya's bed. He takes her\n hand. She looks at him with all the love of a new bride.\n Tears come to his eyes. He kisses her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Ya...your...your...I can´t\n remember now...Yo, what did I\n say? What did you mean?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You rest now.\n\n Valentin watches from the doorway as Tolstoy leaves the\n bedside and walks out", "\n\n SOFYA\n Please forgive me if I cry a\n little now.\n\nTolstoy continues to struggle, then silence, silence.\n\nSasha starts to sob. Sofya reaches out to her daughter.\nSasha comes to her mother who holds her.\n\nShe feels someone next to her. She looks up. It's\nChertkov.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I am sorry, Sofya Andreyevna.\n\nThe most unlikely thing, she pats his hand.\n\n SOF", "ERRACE. DAY. 56\n\n She comes through the dining room to find Tolstoy on the\n back terrace. Wrapped in a blanket, he writes in his diary,\n a cup of tea in front of him.\n\n SOFYA\n Good morning, my darling? Do you\n mind if I join you?\n\n Without looking up\n\n TOLSTOY\n Of course, my dear.\n\n He continues to write. She watches him for a long moment.\n She opens her diary and begins", "the Russian\n sky.\n\n\n2 INT. SECOND CLASS CARRIAGE. COUNTRY SIDE. DAY. 2\n\n Leo Tolstoy (80), sits writing on his lapboard. He is quite\n simply the greatest living writer in the world. His\n devotion to pacifism, his rejection of the trappings of\n Orthodoxy in favor of a simple Christian lifestyle convince\n many to regard him as a living saint. With him are his much\n younger wife, the COUNTESS SOFYA, favorite", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you" ], [ "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", " one million rubles.\n\n Silence.\n\n SOFYA\n How can you not be pleased?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I don't write for publishers. I\n write for people.\n\n He gets up from his desk.\n\n SOFYA\n Where are you going?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Valentin's in the library. He's\n asked to speak to me.\n\n SOFYA\n S", " TOLSTOY\n My boy, what is it?\n (beat)\n I upset you in some way. Was it\n the sofa? It's only a sofa.\n\n Valentin shakes his head, smiling through his tears.\n\n VALENTIN\n I'm very happy. You are very\n kind. I'm no one and you are...\n you are Leo Tolstoy and you ask\n me about my work.\n\n Tolstoy takes Valentin's hand, sits him back on sofa.\n", "IBRARY. DAY. 71\n\n CHERTKOV\n You've been more than reasonable.\n She already controls the income\n from your property.\n\n SASHA\n Listen to him, papa. He has our\n best interests at heart.\n\n Tolstoy looks at Valentin, who looks at the floor.\n\n CHERTKOV\n We're speaking only of the rights\n to your words, your ideas.\n (MORE)", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", " TOLSTOY\n What do you mean?\n\n SOFYA\n Like the man who looks after the\n sheep.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's not meant to offend you.\n\n SOFYA\n But it does offend me, because it\n offends reason. You're a Count,\n for God's sake.\n\n He puts his pen down, goes to her, kisses her gently on the\n forehead and leaves the room.\n\n SOFYA\n", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "s heart on a platter? Her\n kidneys? With salt? But of\n course, my dear Chertkov,\n whatever pleases you. The china.\n The estate. Permanent copyright\n on everything I've ever written?\n Anything for you, my love.\"\n\n 56.\n\n\nHer eye falls on Dushan, who very unfortunately, has chosen\nto take this down in his diary.\n\n SOFYA\n Give me that. Give it to me, you\n little weasel", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", "aculous.\n\n TOLSTOY\n ...as if she had read my mind.\n In that moment, we both knew we\n would always be together. For\n those first years, we were\n incredibly happy, terrifyingly\n happy.\n\n His old eyes are wet.\n\n TOLSTOY\n And now this.\n\n Tolstoy reaches into his boot, extracts his SECRET DIARY.\n He takes a pen from his shirt, begins to write. Valentin is\n amazed. HE HAD", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", " So Gusev is innocent?\n\n TOLSTOY\n (nods)\n Of course, I'm the guilty one. I\n reject the Orthodox church. I\n condemn the established order and\n I make no secret of it.\n\nA young peasant shouts from the crowd.\n\n PEASANT\n God bless you, Tolstoy. Thank\n you.\n\n DUSHAN\n Let him walk. Let him walk.\n (to Tolstoy)\n But you don't ban", "She shoos them away.\n\n\n73 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. DAY. 73\n\n Valentin turns his head. Did he hear something?\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's my wife. She´s part of me.\n We've been together now, so many\n years....\n\n Chertkov drives the point home.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But you're more than a husband\n and father. She must understand", "Tolstoy walk together in the woods. .\n\n TOLSTOY\n I couldn't write. I was\n distracted I think...I had a\n dream last night, about a Tartar\n girl I knew in the war.\n\n VALENTIN\n A girl who died?\n\n TOLSTOY\n No, no...A girl I had sexual\n intercourse with... Sometimes we\n did it twice a day.\n\n Valentin sneezes.\n\n " ], [ "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "LIBRARY. DAY. 90\n\n Valentin waits on the sofa. Tolstoy walks in, goes to him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n What is it, dear boy? You look\n unhappy. What do you want to\n say?\n\n But before Valentin can respond A GUNSHOT RINGS OUT.\n\n\n91 OMITTED 91\n\n\n92 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY BEDROOM/", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to", " over and over.\n\n SASHA\n Be well. Be well.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Don't cry. I'll send for you when\n I can.\n\n They help him up onto the droshky and the carriage starts\n slowly away from the old house.\n\n\n97 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. MORNING 97\n\n Out in front of the house, an old peasant woman pulls the\n feathers off a chicken", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it" ], [ "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", ", to...\n\n TOLSTOY\n To be what, a good Tolstoyan?\n\nTolstoy smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I myself am not a very\n good Tolstoyan. You should think\n twice about asking my advice\n about anything... Torture...\n (he laughs)\n\n VALENTIN\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Kalya, her name was...She's an\n old woman now, white hair", " So Gusev is innocent?\n\n TOLSTOY\n (nods)\n Of course, I'm the guilty one. I\n reject the Orthodox church. I\n condemn the established order and\n I make no secret of it.\n\nA young peasant shouts from the crowd.\n\n PEASANT\n God bless you, Tolstoy. Thank\n you.\n\n DUSHAN\n Let him walk. Let him walk.\n (to Tolstoy)\n But you don't ban", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "of the Russian people.\"\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, they won't move. We are\n gonna die here. Leo, Leo, go and\n say something to them. It's the\n only way we are gonna get out of\n here.\n\n The chanting grows in intensity. Tolstoy gets to his feet,\n walks to the window, shows himself to the crowd. A great\n shout goes up. Tolstoy lifts his hand for silence.\n Gradually, it comes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n", "the peasants\n somehow morally superior.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I believe that wealth corrupts us\n all, yes I do.\n\nA pause. Valentin fills the silence.\n\n VALENTIN\n It's a keystone of the movement.\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, I know all about the\n movement.\n\nA pause. Valentin notices that people from the front lawn\nhave moved up to watch all this. Life in the fishbowl, the\nTolstoys seem neither", "stifles it, starts again,\n stifles, starts, explodes. Guilty.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Perhaps Sasha's right.\n Encouraging this may not be the\n best thing.\n\n 40.\n\n\n SASHA\n It's a trick, Papa. She'll drain\n you. You'll be miserable.\n\n Tolstoy looks from one to the other, gets up from his\n chair.\n\n SASHA\n Then,", "ignoring him.\n\n SOFYA\n It's not for lack of land that\n the muzhiks live in poverty.\n They have no will power and they\n drink too much.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm not suggesting they be given\n land. Private property is the\n root of the problem... We should\n be giving ours away.\n\n ANDREY\n Give it to whom?\n\n SOFYA\n It's all ridiculous. You think\n that poverty makes", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", " for the welfare of the family.\n\n CHERTKOV\n (to Tolstoy)\n And we're concerned for the\n welfare of mankind.\n (to Bulgakov)\n Take this down.\n\n Valentin records the conversation in his diary.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It´s a terrible thing you ask. I\n can´t do it.\n\n\n70 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S B" ], [ " SOFYA\n But you believe you'll see her\n again.\n\n VALENTIN\n I very much hope so.\n\n SOFYA\n Yes. Refuse to believe in the end\n of love. Do all you can to\n prevent it...\n\n Sofya picks up a photograph of the two of them, examines\n it.\n\n SOFYA\n I know you know where he is,\n Valentin.\n\n Valentin hesitates. She walks back to him.\n", "3 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. NIGHT. 93\n\n The wind blows the trees around the old house. We see a\n lighted lamp move up the stairs.\n\n\n94 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. NIGHT. 94\n\n Valentin in his makeshift bed.\n\n SASHA (O.S.)\n Valentin. Valentin.\n\n He is immediately awake. S", "\n\n VALENTIN\n It's not quite so obvious to me.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Because she is duplicitous. You\n are very bright. Too bright to\n let her into you.\n\n Chertkov fixes the boy with his intense gaze.\n\n CHERTKOV\n You value our work?\n\n 33.\n\n\n VALENTIN\n I do.\n\n CHERTKOV\n The ideals we share?\n\n ", "\n VALENTIN\n This would not be a problem. I'm\n celibate. I'm also a strict\n vegetarian.\n\n Chertkov nods his approval, begins to worry his moustache.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes, I've heard many good things\n about you. I've even read what\n you`ve written. So has he.\n\n Valentin's face flushes with pride. Chertkov steals a\n glance at his reflection in the glass bookcase. One", "\n\n SOFYA\n That sounds serious enough.\n\n Valentin looks away.\n\n SOFYA\n I don't mean to annoy you.\n\n VALENTIN\n I'm not annoyed.\n\n SOFYA\n You forget that I'm an\n experienced reader. I can read\n your face, every letter. It's\n beautifully clear.\n (beat)\n Do you love her?\n\n Valentin looks at Sofya, tears in his eyes.\n", "AY. 23\n\n Valentin stands in the entry way, waiting. He looks lost.\n\n VALENTIN\n Hello...hello...\n\n VOICE (O.S.)\n You're the new secretary.\n\n He looks up to see Sasha examining him from the landing\n above.\n\n SASHA\n Papa's out. You can wait in the\n library. Ivan will show you up.\n\n She disappears. He hears a door close. He notices a surly\n", "\n\n Dushan appears in the doorway. Solemn, he gestures for him\n to come inside. Valentin stands.\n\n\n140 INT. ASTAPOVO. PRIVATE TRAIN CARRIAGE. NIGHT. 140\n\n Sofya watches the two figures disappear inside.\n\n\n141 INT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 141\n\n Valentin sees Chertkov standing near the bed. Dushan\n returns to", "Russians casting off centuries of\n spiritual and political\n oppression-\n\n VALENTIN\n In the name of truth and freedom.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Truth and freedom, yes but still,\n my boy, there are so many enemies-\n\n VALENTIN\n Enemies?\n\nChertkov walks to the window, signals Valentin to follow\nhim. He points to\n\nTWO MEN IN PLAINCLOTHES standing in the street below.\n\n CHERTKOV\n The", "0.\n\n\n Sofya throws the gun at her husband. She runs out of the\n room. We see the shattered photograph of Chertkov.\n\n After a moment, Tolstoy into his chair. Valentin watches\n him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'd like you to stay here\n tonight.\n\n VALENTIN\n Yes, of course.\n\n With that, the old man gets up and leaves the room, leaving\n Valentin in the wreckage of his world.\n\n\n9", "VALENTIN\n That's why I'm here.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good, of course it is. (beat) Do\n you think the Countess suspects\n something?\n\n VALENTIN\n Well, I think the Countess is\n very suspicios by nature.\n\n CHERTKOV\n How so?\n\n VALENTIN\n I don´t think she likes you very\n much.\n\n CHERTKOV\n What does she say?\n\n", " VALENTIN\n No, you want an icon. You want to\n take photographs and give out\n postcards..You want people to\n kneel in front of an image you´ve\n created. But he doesn´t wanted\n that. He never wanted that, and\n it will give him no peace.\n (beat)\n He wants to see her...let her\n come.\n\n They see Sasha looking from the door. She turns and closes\n it.\n\n ", "all\n the papers.\n\nValentin is very aware of the publicness of it all.\n\n VALENTIN\n Let me take you back.\n\nBut she plows on.\n\n SOFYA\n What did he say?\n\n SASHA\n That if you killed yourself, he'd\n be upset.\n\n SOFYA\n He'd be upset?\n\n SASHA\n Horribly upset...but he could not\n have acted other than he did.\n\nSof", " VALENTIN\n It´s a tone I´ve picked up.\n\n CHERTKOV\n We simply want to distribute\n Tolstoy's work to the widest\n audience possible. She just has\n no understanding what it is we\n are trying to do. There´s nothing\n in it for any of us but a real\n chance to increase the world´s\n happiness.\n\n He takes Valentin's hand.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I can only be of limited help to\n", "\n\n He leans back against the pillow and drifts again. Sasha\n gets up and goes outside. After a moment, Valentin\n follows.\n\n\n135 EXT. ASTAPOVO. STATION MASTER'S HOUSE. DAY 135\n\n Valentin sees her leaning against the wall. She's in pain.\n\n SASHA\n He said to me once...\"you're like\n your mother. You're so full of\n anger.\"\n\n She turns", "\n VALENTIN\n Masha...Masha...I'm so sorry he's\n gone. He´s gone.\n\n MASHA\n Yes. Yes. I know, but I came for\n you, Valya. I came for you, too.\n\n VALENTIN\n I love you. I do. I love you.\n\n MASHA\n Then, hold me. Hold me. Hold me.\n\n The song, the voices swell around them. They hold each", "19.\n\n\nValentin doesn't know what to say. A giggle from Dushan.\n\n DUSHAN\n Oh, that's good...that's good.\n\nDushan, having sat at table, tries surreptitiously to get\ndown Tolstoy's words in the diary he holds below the table.\nSofya flushes with anger.\n\n VALENTIN\n I think...(sneeze)\n\n SOFYA\n Stop scribbling!\n (points to her", ", he\n sits in Tolstoy's chair. Before him are stacks of letters,\n pens and pencils, a pot of India ink. There's a notebook\n lying open. He leans forward to read it. A noise in the\n hall stops him.\n\n Tolstoy enters from the dining room, red cheeked, beard\n dripping wet, the energy of a man ten years younger than he\n is. Valentin stands.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm glad you're here. So glad.\n\n", ".\n\n VALENTIN\n Tell him... I'll be down at once.\n\n SERGEYENKO (O.S.)\n Yes..and tell Maria Filipovna we\n could use another hand in the\n kitchen.\n\n They look at each other.\n\n 37.\n\n\n VALENTIN\n If I see her I will...\n\n SERGEYENKO (O.S.)\n If you see her...yes. And if\n you'", "me, Valentin\n Fedorovich. I want only what is\n best for my husband and my\n family. I could tolerate the\n situation if it only concerned me\n What I can not do is sit back\n while they steal my children's\n inheritance. Do you know I was\n the only person. I could\n understand his intention.\n\n VALENTIN\n I don't believe anyone wants to\n do that.\n\nSofya gives him a condescending smile. She produces a\npackage from the table beside", " No. No. You didn´t confuse me..I\n was stupid. I was afraid, but I'm\n not afraid anymore.\n\nValentin wants to fight through the awkwardness. He tries\nto kiss her. She won't have it. She pulls away.\n\n VALENTIN\n I love you, Masha!\n\n MASHA\n Maybe you could help me a little.\n\nIn silence, he gets the filled buckets balanced on the\npole. Without another word, Masha starts toward the\nbuildings. He" ], [ "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "oy has moved himself out of the refined upper floors\n into a simple vaulted room he uses as both bedroom and\n study. The walls are bare except for a portrait of his\n daughter. The furniture is simple, some of it hand made: a\n small bed against the wall, a little writing desk in one\n corner stacked with books, littered with papers, more mail,\n opened and unopened. Pairs of rude homemade shoes line a\n work bench.\n\n Tolstoy sleeps in his bed. Though it's late March and\n ", "45 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY 145\n\n A sizeable crowd has assembled, the usual reporters,\n photographers, cinematographers, but students, too, and\n soldiers, factory workers, housewives.\n\n Dushan faces the crowd. Quiet. Quiet.\n\n DUSHAN\n At ten minutes after six in the\n morning, a great soul passed from\n our world. Leo Nikoleyevich\n Tolstoy is dead", ". She looks down to see Tolstoy open his\neyes. He looks at her for a moment, the hint of a smile,\nthen closes his eyes again.\n\nValentin sees it, glances at Sasha. Then, he begins to\nfight for breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n First cessation.\n\nA general sense of panic at the proximity of death. Tolstoy\nfights for a last breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n Second cessation.\n\nSofya whispers quietly to her dying husband.", "the chair next to Tolstoy. His cheeks are damp,\n his breathing irregular.\n\n SASHA\n It can't be right. His fever is\n down.\n\n DUSHAN\n His pulse, you see...\n\n Dushan begins to cry. Suddenly, Tolstoy becomes lucid.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya...my dear Sofya. So much\n has (hic) fallen to her.\n\n Everyone moves nearer the bed. Tolstoy looks", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to", "YANA. LIBRARY. NIGHT 119\n\n A message comes over the cable machine.\n\n VALENTIN (O.S.)\n Tolstoy ill at Astapovo.\n Temperature high. Send it to\n Sofya Andreyevna, Yasnaya\n Polyana.\n\n\n120 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. NIGHT. 120\n\n Sofya paces. Andrey loll", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "LIBRARY. DAY. 90\n\n Valentin waits on the sofa. Tolstoy walks in, goes to him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n What is it, dear boy? You look\n unhappy. What do you want to\n say?\n\n But before Valentin can respond A GUNSHOT RINGS OUT.\n\n\n91 OMITTED 91\n\n\n92 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY BEDROOM/", " over and over.\n\n SASHA\n Be well. Be well.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Don't cry. I'll send for you when\n I can.\n\n They help him up onto the droshky and the carriage starts\n slowly away from the old house.\n\n\n97 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. MORNING 97\n\n Out in front of the house, an old peasant woman pulls the\n feathers off a chicken", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", "asha, lamp in hand, crouches\n beside him.\n\n SASHA\n Get up. He's leaving.\n\n VALENTIN\n What?\n\n SASHA\n He´s leaving.\n\n\n95 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY'S BEDROOM/STUDY. NIGHT. 95\n\n Bags are being prepared. Sasha is packing clothes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Essentials only. Nothing that\n", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "the Russian\n sky.\n\n\n2 INT. SECOND CLASS CARRIAGE. COUNTRY SIDE. DAY. 2\n\n Leo Tolstoy (80), sits writing on his lapboard. He is quite\n simply the greatest living writer in the world. His\n devotion to pacifism, his rejection of the trappings of\n Orthodoxy in favor of a simple Christian lifestyle convince\n many to regard him as a living saint. With him are his much\n younger wife, the COUNTESS SOFYA, favorite", "\n other like they will never let go.\n\n\n146 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 146\n\n A black draped funeral train waits in the station. Many\n mourners are congregated on the platform. Chertkov comes\n out of the little house, followed by Andrey, Valentin and\n Dushan carrying Tolstoy's coffin to the train.\n\n Sofya appears with Sasha, who escorts her through the\n crowd. The Orthodox priest approaches" ], [ "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "the chair next to Tolstoy. His cheeks are damp,\n his breathing irregular.\n\n SASHA\n It can't be right. His fever is\n down.\n\n DUSHAN\n His pulse, you see...\n\n Dushan begins to cry. Suddenly, Tolstoy becomes lucid.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya...my dear Sofya. So much\n has (hic) fallen to her.\n\n Everyone moves nearer the bed. Tolstoy looks", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", ". She looks down to see Tolstoy open his\neyes. He looks at her for a moment, the hint of a smile,\nthen closes his eyes again.\n\nValentin sees it, glances at Sasha. Then, he begins to\nfight for breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n First cessation.\n\nA general sense of panic at the proximity of death. Tolstoy\nfights for a last breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n Second cessation.\n\nSofya whispers quietly to her dying husband.", " 143\n\n Sofya and Sasha walk to the door. The reporter calls out\n\n REPORTER\n Countess...Countess...Do you have\n any information? Countess...Is he\n dying? Is he dead?\n\n Sasha takes her mother's hand.\n\n\n144 INT. ASTAPOVO. STATIONMASTER'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 144\n\n She steps into the room. For a moment, she seems\n overwhelmed at the sight of him", "oy has moved himself out of the refined upper floors\n into a simple vaulted room he uses as both bedroom and\n study. The walls are bare except for a portrait of his\n daughter. The furniture is simple, some of it hand made: a\n small bed against the wall, a little writing desk in one\n corner stacked with books, littered with papers, more mail,\n opened and unopened. Pairs of rude homemade shoes line a\n work bench.\n\n Tolstoy sleeps in his bed. Though it's late March and\n ", "LIBRARY. DAY. 90\n\n Valentin waits on the sofa. Tolstoy walks in, goes to him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n What is it, dear boy? You look\n unhappy. What do you want to\n say?\n\n But before Valentin can respond A GUNSHOT RINGS OUT.\n\n\n91 OMITTED 91\n\n\n92 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY BEDROOM/", "He looks up as he hears Sasha off screen. \"Papa. Papa.\"\n\n TOLSTOY\n Precisely. It's lilac. The\n smell's stronger when the sun\n goes down.\n\n He presses Valentin's hand.\n\n SASHA\n Papa!\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've enjoyed myself, my boy.\n (shouting for Sasha)\n WE'RE HERE.\n\n As he starts in the direction of her voice. Sasha", "\n\n Tolstoy sits on a small staircase at the end of the hall.\n Bulgakov is already there on the step above him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Take them downstairs. Thank them\n for me. Offer them a drink.\n\n DUSHAN\n You'll be alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Valentin Fedorovich will stay\n with me, won't you, boy\n\n Valentin nods. Dushan goes to collect the doctors.\n\n MOMENT", "before a make\n shift altar. Wiping away tears, she leaves the room.\n\n\n5A INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/STAIR. DAY. 5A\n\n Sofya walks down the stairs and through the entry passed an\n old servant asleep in a chair. She continues to the\n basement.\n\n\n6 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY'S BEDROOM/STUDY. DAY. 6\n\n Tolst", "\n\n Valentin leads Chertkov through the door. Chertkov stops\n short, whispers\n\n CHERTKOV\n He looks so small.\n\n Now, Tolstoy sees him, wakes up, smiles.\n\n SASHA\n Papa.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's(hic)you.\n\n The men embrace. Tears roll down the both men's cheeks.\n Tolstoy continues to hiccup throughout.\n\n CHERTKOV", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", "S LATER-Tolstoy goes to Sofya's bed. He takes her\n hand. She looks at him with all the love of a new bride.\n Tears come to his eyes. He kisses her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Ya...your...your...I can´t\n remember now...Yo, what did I\n say? What did you mean?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You rest now.\n\n Valentin watches from the doorway as Tolstoy leaves the\n bedside and walks out", "\n other like they will never let go.\n\n\n146 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 146\n\n A black draped funeral train waits in the station. Many\n mourners are congregated on the platform. Chertkov comes\n out of the little house, followed by Andrey, Valentin and\n Dushan carrying Tolstoy's coffin to the train.\n\n Sofya appears with Sasha, who escorts her through the\n crowd. The Orthodox priest approaches", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "45 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY 145\n\n A sizeable crowd has assembled, the usual reporters,\n photographers, cinematographers, but students, too, and\n soldiers, factory workers, housewives.\n\n Dushan faces the crowd. Quiet. Quiet.\n\n DUSHAN\n At ten minutes after six in the\n morning, a great soul passed from\n our world. Leo Nikoleyevich\n Tolstoy is dead", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to" ], [ " I have seen your banner. And I´ve\n heard what you say. You think I´m\n the hope of Russia, do you? Well,\n that´s not true. You are the hope\n of Russia. The hope of all the\n world. You say, you want a new\n way to live? Well, you are not\n gonna find it making a fuss over\n me. So, I suggest that you get on\n with your work and let a poor old\n men get on with his.\n\n The cries begin.", "of the Russian people.\"\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, they won't move. We are\n gonna die here. Leo, Leo, go and\n say something to them. It's the\n only way we are gonna get out of\n here.\n\n The chanting grows in intensity. Tolstoy gets to his feet,\n walks to the window, shows himself to the crowd. A great\n shout goes up. Tolstoy lifts his hand for silence.\n Gradually, it comes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n", " So Gusev is innocent?\n\n TOLSTOY\n (nods)\n Of course, I'm the guilty one. I\n reject the Orthodox church. I\n condemn the established order and\n I make no secret of it.\n\nA young peasant shouts from the crowd.\n\n PEASANT\n God bless you, Tolstoy. Thank\n you.\n\n DUSHAN\n Let him walk. Let him walk.\n (to Tolstoy)\n But you don't ban", "Russians casting off centuries of\n spiritual and political\n oppression-\n\n VALENTIN\n In the name of truth and freedom.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Truth and freedom, yes but still,\n my boy, there are so many enemies-\n\n VALENTIN\n Enemies?\n\nChertkov walks to the window, signals Valentin to follow\nhim. He points to\n\nTWO MEN IN PLAINCLOTHES standing in the street below.\n\n CHERTKOV\n The", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "estranged from her husband. They\n barely speak.\"\n\nShe throws the paper on the floor.\n\n SOFYA\n You know who spreads all this\n rubbish....\n\nShe opens another paper, a French daily.\n\n SOFYA\n C'est la meme en France. They\n gossip about us in Paris... \"They\n do not share a similar view of\n either religion or politics.\"\n Incroyable!\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n (smiling)\n Pe", "They both watch Sofya's passion. Her face quivers, the\n muscles in her neck stand out. Her shoulders begin to\n shake.\n\n Crumbling the paper in her hand, she twists her head and\n screams. Then, gathering up her dress, she runs out the\n door.\n\n Sasha move immediately to the window. From her P.O.V., we\n see Sofya streaking across the lawn.\n\n They look at each other\n\n SASHA\n The pond!\n\n They run out.", ".\n\n As Dushan finishes his tribute, a single voice begins to\n sing the old Russian hymn, Eternal Memory. Gradually, more\n and more of the crowd picks it up. Valentin begins to sing.\n His eyes run over the crowd of mourners. Then, something\n stops the flow of his gaze. His eyes fill with tears.\n\n VALENTIN\n Masha...\n\n Masha. She walks slowly toward him out of the crowd. He\n goes to her, takes her in a long embrace.\n", "RARY. DAY. 77\n\n Chertkov pushes his point.\n\n CHERTKOV\n She's unstable...I wonder if she\n isn't ill.\n\n DUSHAN\n It´s sadly more than possible.\n\n SASHA\n I know it´s hard for you, papa.\n But we must be realistic.\n\n We pan to the french doors to see Sofya furious face as she\n listens to the betrayal.\n\n CH", " 8.\n\n DUSHAN (cont'd)\n and if you must ride, I insist\n you wear a coat. Even the sun is\n cold today.\n\nHe puts Tolstoy's arm down and hands him his riding boot.\nSofya comes ranting into the room carrying several Russian\nand international dailies.\n\n SOFYA\n This is impossible! It really is!\n These people are parasites!\n Look...\n (reading)\n \"Countess Tolstoy has become\n ", "her.\n\n DUSHAN\n Sofya! Open your eyes.\n\n SOFYA\n My back. My back... I'm hurting.\n\n DUSHAN\n You're lying on a fork. Sit up\n and you'll improve\n markedly...Valentin, help to get\n her upstairs, would you?\n\n Valentin helps Sofya to her feet. Dushan gets up himself\n and walks to Tolstoy.\n\n DUSHAN\n She's alright.", "me, Valentin\n Fedorovich. I want only what is\n best for my husband and my\n family. I could tolerate the\n situation if it only concerned me\n What I can not do is sit back\n while they steal my children's\n inheritance. Do you know I was\n the only person. I could\n understand his intention.\n\n VALENTIN\n I don't believe anyone wants to\n do that.\n\nSofya gives him a condescending smile. She produces a\npackage from the table beside", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", " It's your voice. It's wonderful.\n\nThey all listen for a moment, look to Tolstoy for a\nresponse.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's tiresome. Another\n remarkable invention will\n supercede it.\n\nValentin blushes and looks at the table. Dushan tries to\nhide his disappointment.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Please excuse me.\n\nTolstoy rises, leaves the table, walks out onto the lawn.\nDushan gets up quickly, bumping the table as", "A\n I lost five children. Why\n couldn't one of them have been\n you?\n\n Chertkov watches, makes little attempt to conceal his\n pleasure.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you finished?\n\n A pause. Sofya is suddenly aware of the crowd around her.\n\n SOFYA\n Valentin, will you take me back?\n\n Valentin nods.\n\n VALENTIN\n Yes, of course.\n\n Sofya takes his", "all\n the papers.\n\nValentin is very aware of the publicness of it all.\n\n VALENTIN\n Let me take you back.\n\nBut she plows on.\n\n SOFYA\n What did he say?\n\n SASHA\n That if you killed yourself, he'd\n be upset.\n\n SOFYA\n He'd be upset?\n\n SASHA\n Horribly upset...but he could not\n have acted other than he did.\n\nSof", "A\n Did you ride this morning?\n\n A small crowd collects to watch father and daughter\n embrace, kiss.\n\n A WIDE SHOT of the riders- cutting around we are\n\n\n13 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/STAIR. CONTINUOUS. 13\n\n Sofya watches her husband and daughter ride away.\n\n\n14 EXT. RIVER VALLEY. DAY 14\n\n A steam train snakes through a broad", "the Russian\n sky.\n\n\n2 INT. SECOND CLASS CARRIAGE. COUNTRY SIDE. DAY. 2\n\n Leo Tolstoy (80), sits writing on his lapboard. He is quite\n simply the greatest living writer in the world. His\n devotion to pacifism, his rejection of the trappings of\n Orthodoxy in favor of a simple Christian lifestyle convince\n many to regard him as a living saint. With him are his much\n younger wife, the COUNTESS SOFYA, favorite" ], [ "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "\n Chertkov beneath a large banner : \"Leo Tolstoy, Friend of\n the People.\". Behind him, the disciples lay out a\n vegetarian feast on a plank table. Photographers and a\n cinematographer are strategically positioned to record the\n event.\n\n Each child gives Tolstoy a flower. Chertkov, in turn, hands\n each child a photograph of the Count giving money to the\n poor.\n\n Valentin enters, flushed and blushing. He pauses beside\n Dushan who", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", ", acknowledges Chertkov who\n sits at his makeshift desk going through letters and\n cables. He goes to the bedside, stops next to Dushan.\n Silence, interrupted only by Tolstoy's incessant hiccups.\n Valentin notices Dushan is on the verge of tears.\n\n VALENTIN\n What is it? Dushan, what´s wrong?\n\n DUSHAN\n Listen to him. I'm supposed to\n be a doctor, for God", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", " CHERTKOV\n These people are vultures. They\n send in at the last moment and\n welcome him back to the church.\n That's their fantasy.\n (beat)\n A death bed recantation. Do you\n have any idea the damage it would\n do? Everything he's dreamed of,\n everything we've worked for will\n be gone. A simple noble death is\n what we want. It is what he\n wants.\n\n\n ", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", ".\n\n\n83 EXT. ZASYEKA WOODS. DAY. 83\n\n It is an autumn afternoon. Valentin and Tolstoy pick their\n way through the thick undergrowth.\n\n As they come into a clearing. Valentin is surprised to see\n a portable table and several chairs set up like lawyers\n office in the middle of the wood. Sergeyenko fiddles with a\n piece of paper on the desk. Chertkov comes toward them.\n\n Tolstoy stops his horse", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", " for the welfare of the family.\n\n CHERTKOV\n (to Tolstoy)\n And we're concerned for the\n welfare of mankind.\n (to Bulgakov)\n Take this down.\n\n Valentin records the conversation in his diary.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It´s a terrible thing you ask. I\n can´t do it.\n\n\n70 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S B", "\n\nSofya smiles at his honesty.\n\n SOFYA\n When he was writing it, long\n before Chertkov created that\n monstrosity at Telyatinki, before\n all this \"new religion\" and\n revolutionary nonsense...\n (beat)\n What do you think of Chertkov, by\n the way?\n\n VALENTIN\n He's given me an extraordinary\n opportunity.\n\n SOFYA\n But you see what a fool he is, a\n ", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "'s here to question you about\n the new will.\n\n Chertkov nervous, tugs at his moustache.\n\n CHERTKOV\n How does she know it even exists?\n\n VALENTIN\n She claims Leo Nikolayevich told\n her she could examine the draft.\n\n CHERTKOV\n He is obviously not thinking\n clearly. And now we have to put\n up with her petty grasping.\n\n VALENTIN\n It doesn't seem petty to", "\n other like they will never let go.\n\n\n146 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 146\n\n A black draped funeral train waits in the station. Many\n mourners are congregated on the platform. Chertkov comes\n out of the little house, followed by Andrey, Valentin and\n Dushan carrying Tolstoy's coffin to the train.\n\n Sofya appears with Sasha, who escorts her through the\n crowd. The Orthodox priest approaches" ], [ " SOFYA\n I see a fine young man before me.\n Clear eyes. Nice features, rather\n handsome in a peculiar way.\n\n VALENTIN\n Thank you, Countess...\n\n SOFYA\n Call me Sofya Andreyevna. We\n don't stand on formality here, as\n you may have observed.\n (beat)\n Many young men ruin their looks\n by loose living. You're a real\n Tolstoyan, I can tell!\n\n VAL", "this.\n\n SOFYA\n Sit down, Valentin.\n\n VALENTIN\n Really, I'm expected at\n Telyatinki.\n\nShe waves it off.\n\n SOFYA\n No, no, no. Enjoy your dinner.\n We've had a disagreement. No more\n than any other married couple.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I didn't come for more\n recrimination. Despite good cause\n for alienation between us, I have\n ", ". She looks at Valentin, who\n nods at her as if to say go on. Sofya walks past Chertkov\n without acknowledging him. Dushan lets go his hold of\n Tolstoy's wrist and gets out of the chair, out of her way.\n She approaches her sleeping, husband, the love of her life,\n her cross, her everything.\n\n 95.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka!\n\nThere is no response. She throws her arms around him.\n\n", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", "estranged from her husband. They\n barely speak.\"\n\nShe throws the paper on the floor.\n\n SOFYA\n You know who spreads all this\n rubbish....\n\nShe opens another paper, a French daily.\n\n SOFYA\n C'est la meme en France. They\n gossip about us in Paris... \"They\n do not share a similar view of\n either religion or politics.\"\n Incroyable!\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n (smiling)\n Pe", "the peasants\n somehow morally superior.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I believe that wealth corrupts us\n all, yes I do.\n\nA pause. Valentin fills the silence.\n\n VALENTIN\n It's a keystone of the movement.\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, I know all about the\n movement.\n\nA pause. Valentin notices that people from the front lawn\nhave moved up to watch all this. Life in the fishbowl, the\nTolstoys seem neither", "\n\n SOFYA\n Please forgive me if I cry a\n little now.\n\nTolstoy continues to struggle, then silence, silence.\n\nSasha starts to sob. Sofya reaches out to her daughter.\nSasha comes to her mother who holds her.\n\nShe feels someone next to her. She looks up. It's\nChertkov.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I am sorry, Sofya Andreyevna.\n\nThe most unlikely thing, she pats his hand.\n\n SOF", "still cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. She\n stands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on the\n bed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling.\n\n She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in her\n face, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, but\n he sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions it\n under her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it around\n her. The image", "\n that's good. The reports I've\n received from you however...\n There seems to be some confusion.\n\n VALENTIN\n What do you mean?\n\n CHERTKOV\n You send me never ending\n commentary on Tolstoy's writing.\n That's all very interesting but\n not very useful. I need to know\n what goes on with Sofya\n Andreyevna. You must see by now\n she's committed to undermining\n her husband's best intentions.", "S LATER-Tolstoy goes to Sofya's bed. He takes her\n hand. She looks at him with all the love of a new bride.\n Tears come to his eyes. He kisses her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Ya...your...your...I can´t\n remember now...Yo, what did I\n say? What did you mean?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You rest now.\n\n Valentin watches from the doorway as Tolstoy leaves the\n bedside and walks out", "19.\n\n\nValentin doesn't know what to say. A giggle from Dushan.\n\n DUSHAN\n Oh, that's good...that's good.\n\nDushan, having sat at table, tries surreptitiously to get\ndown Tolstoy's words in the diary he holds below the table.\nSofya flushes with anger.\n\n VALENTIN\n I think...(sneeze)\n\n SOFYA\n Stop scribbling!\n (points to her", "a great affection for\n Vladimir Grigorivich. Let them\n laugh if they find it amusing.\n\n SOFYA\n But it's not amusing, darling.\n It's sick. It's not normal. You\n hang on his every word.\n\n TOLSTOY\n We have a great deal in common.\n\n SOFYA\n You have nothing in common. You\n are a genius. He's a sycophant\n and a pervert.\n\n ", "\n\nSofya smiles at his honesty.\n\n SOFYA\n When he was writing it, long\n before Chertkov created that\n monstrosity at Telyatinki, before\n all this \"new religion\" and\n revolutionary nonsense...\n (beat)\n What do you think of Chertkov, by\n the way?\n\n VALENTIN\n He's given me an extraordinary\n opportunity.\n\n SOFYA\n But you see what a fool he is, a\n ", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "her, then stops.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Why? Why? Why, do you do it? We\n live in the country and you\n insist on making it an opera\n house. What's wrong with a little\n peace now and then?\n\n Sofya laughs.\n\n SOFYA\n Look at me. This is who I am.\n This is what you married. We're\n older, maybe we're old, but I'm\n still your little", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "ignoring him.\n\n SOFYA\n It's not for lack of land that\n the muzhiks live in poverty.\n They have no will power and they\n drink too much.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm not suggesting they be given\n land. Private property is the\n root of the problem... We should\n be giving ours away.\n\n ANDREY\n Give it to whom?\n\n SOFYA\n It's all ridiculous. You think\n that poverty makes" ], [ "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", "of the Russian people.\"\n\n SOFYA\n Oh, they won't move. We are\n gonna die here. Leo, Leo, go and\n say something to them. It's the\n only way we are gonna get out of\n here.\n\n The chanting grows in intensity. Tolstoy gets to his feet,\n walks to the window, shows himself to the crowd. A great\n shout goes up. Tolstoy lifts his hand for silence.\n Gradually, it comes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", " So Gusev is innocent?\n\n TOLSTOY\n (nods)\n Of course, I'm the guilty one. I\n reject the Orthodox church. I\n condemn the established order and\n I make no secret of it.\n\nA young peasant shouts from the crowd.\n\n PEASANT\n God bless you, Tolstoy. Thank\n you.\n\n DUSHAN\n Let him walk. Let him walk.\n (to Tolstoy)\n But you don't ban", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", ", acknowledges Chertkov who\n sits at his makeshift desk going through letters and\n cables. He goes to the bedside, stops next to Dushan.\n Silence, interrupted only by Tolstoy's incessant hiccups.\n Valentin notices Dushan is on the verge of tears.\n\n VALENTIN\n What is it? Dushan, what´s wrong?\n\n DUSHAN\n Listen to him. I'm supposed to\n be a doctor, for God", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "stifles it, starts again,\n stifles, starts, explodes. Guilty.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Perhaps Sasha's right.\n Encouraging this may not be the\n best thing.\n\n 40.\n\n\n SASHA\n It's a trick, Papa. She'll drain\n you. You'll be miserable.\n\n Tolstoy looks from one to the other, gets up from his\n chair.\n\n SASHA\n Then,", "\n My dear friend, waht is all of\n this?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I needed (hic) to see you. Thank\n you. We have so much (hic) to\n do. (hic) I´m sorry. Damn hic\n ups.\n (beat)\n Have you seen Sofya?\n\n CHERTKOV\n I've made a point not to.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I don't", "aculous.\n\n TOLSTOY\n ...as if she had read my mind.\n In that moment, we both knew we\n would always be together. For\n those first years, we were\n incredibly happy, terrifyingly\n happy.\n\n His old eyes are wet.\n\n TOLSTOY\n And now this.\n\n Tolstoy reaches into his boot, extracts his SECRET DIARY.\n He takes a pen from his shirt, begins to write. Valentin is\n amazed. HE HAD", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", ", to...\n\n TOLSTOY\n To be what, a good Tolstoyan?\n\nTolstoy smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I myself am not a very\n good Tolstoyan. You should think\n twice about asking my advice\n about anything... Torture...\n (he laughs)\n\n VALENTIN\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Kalya, her name was...She's an\n old woman now, white hair" ], [ "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", "ignoring him.\n\n SOFYA\n It's not for lack of land that\n the muzhiks live in poverty.\n They have no will power and they\n drink too much.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm not suggesting they be given\n land. Private property is the\n root of the problem... We should\n be giving ours away.\n\n ANDREY\n Give it to whom?\n\n SOFYA\n It's all ridiculous. You think\n that poverty makes", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", " TOLSTOY\n What do you mean?\n\n SOFYA\n Like the man who looks after the\n sheep.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's not meant to offend you.\n\n SOFYA\n But it does offend me, because it\n offends reason. You're a Count,\n for God's sake.\n\n He puts his pen down, goes to her, kisses her gently on the\n forehead and leaves the room.\n\n SOFYA\n", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", " papers will like that!\n\n As he goes, we hear.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n This is unbearable. You don't\n want a husband. You want a Greek\n chorus.\n\n Sofya is taken aback by his response. She walks out of the\n room.\n\n\n61 EXT. ROAD TO TELYATINKI. DAY 61\n\n Four peasants pull a water cart down a rough country road.\n We pan off to see Sof", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "stifles it, starts again,\n stifles, starts, explodes. Guilty.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Perhaps Sasha's right.\n Encouraging this may not be the\n best thing.\n\n 40.\n\n\n SASHA\n It's a trick, Papa. She'll drain\n you. You'll be miserable.\n\n Tolstoy looks from one to the other, gets up from his\n chair.\n\n SASHA\n Then,", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", " So Gusev is innocent?\n\n TOLSTOY\n (nods)\n Of course, I'm the guilty one. I\n reject the Orthodox church. I\n condemn the established order and\n I make no secret of it.\n\nA young peasant shouts from the crowd.\n\n PEASANT\n God bless you, Tolstoy. Thank\n you.\n\n DUSHAN\n Let him walk. Let him walk.\n (to Tolstoy)\n But you don't ban" ], [ "\n\n Tolstoy sits on a small staircase at the end of the hall.\n Bulgakov is already there on the step above him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Take them downstairs. Thank them\n for me. Offer them a drink.\n\n DUSHAN\n You'll be alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Valentin Fedorovich will stay\n with me, won't you, boy\n\n Valentin nods. Dushan goes to collect the doctors.\n\n MOMENT", "\n your enemy. I'm delighted that my\n husband has a friend who\n understands and shares his\n ideals. All I want is what's\n reasonable - an opportunity to\n evaluate the new will. If you\n agree, I'm sure we can be\n friends.\n\n CHERTKOV\n You're very kind. Sofya\n Andreyevna. But I can't help you.\n Not without specific instructions\n from your husband.\n\n SOFYA\n (to Bulgakov", ". There's general commotion at the new arrival.\n \"The Countess.\" \"Is it the Countess?\"... More press, a\n cinematographer lugging his gear and CHERTKOV. He spots\n Valentin. There is no greeting, no embrace.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Bulgakov! Where is he? Take me\n to him.\n\n As they make their way across the tracks, Chertkov can\n barely contain his glee.\n\n 83.\n\n\n", "around him. Her head\nfalls against his shoulder.\n\n 62.\n\n\n MASHA\n Come with me. Please.\n\n Bulgakov doesn't know what to say. The silence gets more\n awkward as it gets longer. Slowly, she disengages herself\n from him,looks him in the eye. She nods.\n\n MASHA\n I'm going to my room.\n\n As she starts away.\n\n VALENTIN\n Don't leave me, Masha", "\"Clear the tracks. Let them pass. Let them\n go.\" Tolstoy closes the door and waves to the crowd as the\n train pulls away.\n\n\n3 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE. DAY. 3\n\n On the chanting crowd now as the train pulls away. We\n focus on a handsome young man, a little stiff maybe, a\n little intellectual. This is VALENTIN FEDOROVITCH\n BULGAKOV. He can't contain his enthusiasm. Over the noise\n of the", " for the welfare of the family.\n\n CHERTKOV\n (to Tolstoy)\n And we're concerned for the\n welfare of mankind.\n (to Bulgakov)\n Take this down.\n\n Valentin records the conversation in his diary.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It´s a terrible thing you ask. I\n can´t do it.\n\n\n70 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S B", " A handsome study in the Moscow townhouse of VLADIMIR\n GRIGOREVICH CHERTKOV, Tolstoy's most articulate and\n dedicated disciple. He's interviewing Tolstoy's newly\n appointed secretary, VALENTIN BULGAKOV, the young man we\n met near the train, who, at the mention of sex, blushes a\n little.\n\n CHERTKOV\n But sex... You are twenty three.\n Not an easy age for abstinence,", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", ", acknowledges Chertkov who\n sits at his makeshift desk going through letters and\n cables. He goes to the bedside, stops next to Dushan.\n Silence, interrupted only by Tolstoy's incessant hiccups.\n Valentin notices Dushan is on the verge of tears.\n\n VALENTIN\n What is it? Dushan, what´s wrong?\n\n DUSHAN\n Listen to him. I'm supposed to\n be a doctor, for God", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", " TOLSTOY\n Because he understands what I'm\n trying to do? Because he tries\n to help me accomplish it?\n\n SOFYA\n He is using you. You just can't\n seem to see it.\n\n TOLSTOY\n This is absolute nonsense.\n\n SOFYA\n That bold, obese, idiotic man.\n You treat him...\n\nHe turns to her...his face red with anger and frustration.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's impossible", " It's your voice. It's wonderful.\n\nThey all listen for a moment, look to Tolstoy for a\nresponse.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's tiresome. Another\n remarkable invention will\n supercede it.\n\nValentin blushes and looks at the table. Dushan tries to\nhide his disappointment.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Please excuse me.\n\nTolstoy rises, leaves the table, walks out onto the lawn.\nDushan gets up quickly, bumping the table as", "!\n\n Sasha won't rise to the bait.\n\n Valentin comes into the room.\n\n 73.\n\n\n SOFYA\n So, he's gone.\n (to Bulgakov)\n For good.\n\n VALENTIN\n I think so, yes.\n\n There is a pause. Sofya suddenly smiles, becomes\n solicitous.\n\n SOFY\n Darling Sasha, where is your\n father? I know you know. Please", "\n Chertkov beneath a large banner : \"Leo Tolstoy, Friend of\n the People.\". Behind him, the disciples lay out a\n vegetarian feast on a plank table. Photographers and a\n cinematographer are strategically positioned to record the\n event.\n\n Each child gives Tolstoy a flower. Chertkov, in turn, hands\n each child a photograph of the Count giving money to the\n poor.\n\n Valentin enters, flushed and blushing. He pauses beside\n Dushan who", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "\n that woman has an instinct for\n knowing when you're just about to\n enjoy yourself\n\n A knock on the door. Valentin opens it. It's Dushan with\n another cable. Tolstoy gestures for him to read it aloud.\n\n DUSHAN\n From Sofya Andreyevna. \"I beg\n you. Stop. Unwell. Stop. Hurry\n back.\"\n\n SASHA\n Who taught her to use that damned\n machine?\n\n Valentin starts to sneeze,", ", he\n sits in Tolstoy's chair. Before him are stacks of letters,\n pens and pencils, a pot of India ink. There's a notebook\n lying open. He leans forward to read it. A noise in the\n hall stops him.\n\n Tolstoy enters from the dining room, red cheeked, beard\n dripping wet, the energy of a man ten years younger than he\n is. Valentin stands.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'm glad you're here. So glad.\n\n", "it down without a glance.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Vladimir Grigorevich has already\n written about you at length. I\n need your help badly. The\n manifesto against the government\n is hard work. They commit their\n idiotic abuses faster than I can\n catalogue them...and the new\n book...\n\n VALENTIN\n He told me about it...It's very\n exciting.\n\nTolstoy nods.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I've become convinced", "yenko lifts an eyebrow \"Indeed.\". Valentin is in\nagony.\n\n MASHA\n We're happy to have you with us.\n\nTolstoy notices a mosquito on Valentin's cheek. He takes\nthe bug between his big fingers, squeezes until it pops.\nChertkov watches in horror, whispers loudly.\n\n CHERTKOV\n What are you doing?\n\n TOLSTOY\n What do you mean?\n\nHe motions to the photograph", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from" ], [ "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", "ERTKOV (O.S.)\n Do you really think she's fit to\n control the final disposition of\n the will?\n\n We pan back to the conspirators. Before Tolstoy can\n respond, Sofya charges into the room. As she does, she\n steps on the hem of her long dressing gown and ends up\n sprawled on the floor. The conspirators just stare at her.\n\n SOFYA\n How dare you?\n\n SASHA\n What are you doing?\n\n SO", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "into the carriage. Tolstoy turns abruptly and\n walks back toward the house.\n\n SASHA\n Papa...?\n\n DUSHAN\n He's changed his mind. He's going\n back to the house.\n\n They watch as Tolstoy kneels on the wet grass, bending low\n to rub his hands against the earth. After a moment,\n Valentin goes to him, kneels next to him.\n\n VALENTIN\n Do you want to go back?\n\n TOLSTOY", "S LATER-Tolstoy goes to Sofya's bed. He takes her\n hand. She looks at him with all the love of a new bride.\n Tears come to his eyes. He kisses her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Ya...your...your...I can´t\n remember now...Yo, what did I\n say? What did you mean?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You rest now.\n\n Valentin watches from the doorway as Tolstoy leaves the\n bedside and walks out", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", " over and over.\n\n SASHA\n Be well. Be well.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Don't cry. I'll send for you when\n I can.\n\n They help him up onto the droshky and the carriage starts\n slowly away from the old house.\n\n\n97 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. MORNING 97\n\n Out in front of the house, an old peasant woman pulls the\n feathers off a chicken", "oy has moved himself out of the refined upper floors\n into a simple vaulted room he uses as both bedroom and\n study. The walls are bare except for a portrait of his\n daughter. The furniture is simple, some of it hand made: a\n small bed against the wall, a little writing desk in one\n corner stacked with books, littered with papers, more mail,\n opened and unopened. Pairs of rude homemade shoes line a\n work bench.\n\n Tolstoy sleeps in his bed. Though it's late March and\n ", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "asha, lamp in hand, crouches\n beside him.\n\n SASHA\n Get up. He's leaving.\n\n VALENTIN\n What?\n\n SASHA\n He´s leaving.\n\n\n95 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY'S BEDROOM/STUDY. NIGHT. 95\n\n Bags are being prepared. Sasha is packing clothes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Essentials only. Nothing that\n" ], [ "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "S LATER-Tolstoy goes to Sofya's bed. He takes her\n hand. She looks at him with all the love of a new bride.\n Tears come to his eyes. He kisses her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Ya...your...your...I can´t\n remember now...Yo, what did I\n say? What did you mean?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You rest now.\n\n Valentin watches from the doorway as Tolstoy leaves the\n bedside and walks out", ". She looks at Valentin, who\n nods at her as if to say go on. Sofya walks past Chertkov\n without acknowledging him. Dushan lets go his hold of\n Tolstoy's wrist and gets out of the chair, out of her way.\n She approaches her sleeping, husband, the love of her life,\n her cross, her everything.\n\n 95.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka!\n\nThere is no response. She throws her arms around him.\n\n", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "\n\n SOFYA\n Please forgive me if I cry a\n little now.\n\nTolstoy continues to struggle, then silence, silence.\n\nSasha starts to sob. Sofya reaches out to her daughter.\nSasha comes to her mother who holds her.\n\nShe feels someone next to her. She looks up. It's\nChertkov.\n\n CHERTKOV\n I am sorry, Sofya Andreyevna.\n\nThe most unlikely thing, she pats his hand.\n\n SOF", "still cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. She\n stands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on the\n bed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling.\n\n She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in her\n face, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, but\n he sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions it\n under her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it around\n her. The image", "0.\n\n\n Sofya throws the gun at her husband. She runs out of the\n room. We see the shattered photograph of Chertkov.\n\n After a moment, Tolstoy into his chair. Valentin watches\n him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I'd like you to stay here\n tonight.\n\n VALENTIN\n Yes, of course.\n\n With that, the old man gets up and leaves the room, leaving\n Valentin in the wreckage of his world.\n\n\n9", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "this.\n\n SOFYA\n Sit down, Valentin.\n\n VALENTIN\n Really, I'm expected at\n Telyatinki.\n\nShe waves it off.\n\n SOFYA\n No, no, no. Enjoy your dinner.\n We've had a disagreement. No more\n than any other married couple.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I didn't come for more\n recrimination. Despite good cause\n for alienation between us, I have\n ", "walks to his desk.\n\n\n59 OMITTED 59\n\n\n60 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. DAY. 60\n\n Tolstoy looks up from his work. Sofya stands in the\n doorway.\n\n SOFYA\n Tomorrow, I'll go to the Station\n and lie down on the track.\n Tolstoy's wife becomes Anna\n Karenina herself! See how the\n", " SOFYA\n The new will.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n She stares at him in silence.\n\n TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n SOFYA\n Does Chertkov have it?\n\n TOLSTOY\n There's no new will.\n\n He walks up the stairs. She follows.\n\n SOFYA\n But that's why he's come back.", "her.\n\n DUSHAN\n Sofya! Open your eyes.\n\n SOFYA\n My back. My back... I'm hurting.\n\n DUSHAN\n You're lying on a fork. Sit up\n and you'll improve\n markedly...Valentin, help to get\n her upstairs, would you?\n\n Valentin helps Sofya to her feet. Dushan gets up himself\n and walks to Tolstoy.\n\n DUSHAN\n She's alright.", "ya.\n\n A sly smile on her lips, the tension gone from her face,\n she seems twenty years younger.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya, are you ill?\n\n She rolls toward him making it clear she's quite naked\n under the sheets. This is no sick bed.\n\n SOFYA\n I'm fine...now that you're home.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It's no good, you know, all this.\n You frightened everyone.\n\n SOF", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", " DUSHAN!!!\n\n SOFYA\n You'll destroy me.\n\nDushan runs into the room. Sofya continues to tear at her\nclothes, stops, begins to pant, then falls to the floor in\na faint.\n\n 60.\n\n\n VALENTIN\n Is she alright?\n\n Tolstoy tries to answer, but is overcome by a coughing fit.\n Dushan starts toward him but Tolstoy waves him in the\n direction of Sofya. He kneels beside", "plendid...while your wretched\n family is left to starve.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I don't see anyone starving in\n this house. On the contrary, our\n privilege revolts me.\n\n He goes. She calls after him.\n\n SOFYA\n But you're always first to the\n trough...always have been.\n\n Sofya sinks into his chair. On the desk is the photograph\n of herself and Tolstoy that we saw her", "STUDY. DAY. 92\n\n Sofya sits in a chair, firing shot after shot at the\n photograph of Chertkov. Tolstoy and Valentin enter.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya, what are you doing?\n\n She turns toward him, waves the gun in his direction.\n Valentin ducks against the wall.\n\n SOFYA\n How could you do this to me?\n\n TOLSTOY\n You're not well.\n\n SOFYA\n", "her, then stops.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Why? Why? Why, do you do it? We\n live in the country and you\n insist on making it an opera\n house. What's wrong with a little\n peace now and then?\n\n Sofya laughs.\n\n SOFYA\n Look at me. This is who I am.\n This is what you married. We're\n older, maybe we're old, but I'm\n still your little", "\n TOLSTOY\n Laughing about what?\n\n SOFYA\n I don't want to ruin last night.\n\nShe sips her tea, goes back to her writing. A pause. He\nfollows suit. After a moment...\n\n SOFYA\n Laughing about the fact that\n you've developed a senile crush\n on a fat middle aged flatterer.\n Your passion for Chertkov has\n become a standing joke.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I have" ], [ "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "oy has moved himself out of the refined upper floors\n into a simple vaulted room he uses as both bedroom and\n study. The walls are bare except for a portrait of his\n daughter. The furniture is simple, some of it hand made: a\n small bed against the wall, a little writing desk in one\n corner stacked with books, littered with papers, more mail,\n opened and unopened. Pairs of rude homemade shoes line a\n work bench.\n\n Tolstoy sleeps in his bed. Though it's late March and\n ", "45 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY 145\n\n A sizeable crowd has assembled, the usual reporters,\n photographers, cinematographers, but students, too, and\n soldiers, factory workers, housewives.\n\n Dushan faces the crowd. Quiet. Quiet.\n\n DUSHAN\n At ten minutes after six in the\n morning, a great soul passed from\n our world. Leo Nikoleyevich\n Tolstoy is dead", ". She looks down to see Tolstoy open his\neyes. He looks at her for a moment, the hint of a smile,\nthen closes his eyes again.\n\nValentin sees it, glances at Sasha. Then, he begins to\nfight for breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n First cessation.\n\nA general sense of panic at the proximity of death. Tolstoy\nfights for a last breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n Second cessation.\n\nSofya whispers quietly to her dying husband.", "the chair next to Tolstoy. His cheeks are damp,\n his breathing irregular.\n\n SASHA\n It can't be right. His fever is\n down.\n\n DUSHAN\n His pulse, you see...\n\n Dushan begins to cry. Suddenly, Tolstoy becomes lucid.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya...my dear Sofya. So much\n has (hic) fallen to her.\n\n Everyone moves nearer the bed. Tolstoy looks", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to", "YANA. LIBRARY. NIGHT 119\n\n A message comes over the cable machine.\n\n VALENTIN (O.S.)\n Tolstoy ill at Astapovo.\n Temperature high. Send it to\n Sofya Andreyevna, Yasnaya\n Polyana.\n\n\n120 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. NIGHT. 120\n\n Sofya paces. Andrey loll", " 37\n\n Chertkov climbs down from his droshky. Suddenly, Tolstoy is\n there. Valentin watches them embrace.\n\n TOLSTOY\n My dear, dear man.\n\n Tears run down his old cheeks. They embrace again.\n\n SOFYA (O.S.)\n He'll try again to convince your\n father to change his will.\n\n 31.\n\n\n38 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. ENTRY/ST", "LIBRARY. DAY. 90\n\n Valentin waits on the sofa. Tolstoy walks in, goes to him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n What is it, dear boy? You look\n unhappy. What do you want to\n say?\n\n But before Valentin can respond A GUNSHOT RINGS OUT.\n\n\n91 OMITTED 91\n\n\n92 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY BEDROOM/", " over and over.\n\n SASHA\n Be well. Be well.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Don't cry. I'll send for you when\n I can.\n\n They help him up onto the droshky and the carriage starts\n slowly away from the old house.\n\n\n97 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. MORNING 97\n\n Out in front of the house, an old peasant woman pulls the\n feathers off a chicken", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "?\n\nTolstoy moves with energy and purpose toward the door.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling, where are you going?\n\n 9.\n\n\n TOLSTOY\n Riding with Sasha. Don't expect\n us for lunch.\n\n Something strikes him. He walks to his desk, picks up his\n pen and quickly writes a sentence on a scrap of paper.\n\n SOFYA\n Leovochka, why do you insist on\n dressing like that.\n\n ", "asha, lamp in hand, crouches\n beside him.\n\n SASHA\n Get up. He's leaving.\n\n VALENTIN\n What?\n\n SASHA\n He´s leaving.\n\n\n95 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. TOLSTOY'S BEDROOM/STUDY. NIGHT. 95\n\n Bags are being prepared. Sasha is packing clothes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Essentials only. Nothing that\n", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "the Russian\n sky.\n\n\n2 INT. SECOND CLASS CARRIAGE. COUNTRY SIDE. DAY. 2\n\n Leo Tolstoy (80), sits writing on his lapboard. He is quite\n simply the greatest living writer in the world. His\n devotion to pacifism, his rejection of the trappings of\n Orthodoxy in favor of a simple Christian lifestyle convince\n many to regard him as a living saint. With him are his much\n younger wife, the COUNTESS SOFYA, favorite", "\n other like they will never let go.\n\n\n146 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 146\n\n A black draped funeral train waits in the station. Many\n mourners are congregated on the platform. Chertkov comes\n out of the little house, followed by Andrey, Valentin and\n Dushan carrying Tolstoy's coffin to the train.\n\n Sofya appears with Sasha, who escorts her through the\n crowd. The Orthodox priest approaches" ], [ "45 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY 145\n\n A sizeable crowd has assembled, the usual reporters,\n photographers, cinematographers, but students, too, and\n soldiers, factory workers, housewives.\n\n Dushan faces the crowd. Quiet. Quiet.\n\n DUSHAN\n At ten minutes after six in the\n morning, a great soul passed from\n our world. Leo Nikoleyevich\n Tolstoy is dead", "YA\n It's alright. What happens from\n now on... it will never really\n matter. Not really. Everything's\n finished.\n\nChertkov sits beside them. She turns to Dushan.\n\n SOFYA\n Dushan, could you tell them your\n great friend is gone?\n\n DUSHAN\n Yes.\n\nHe nods, walk out into the dawn light to tell the world Leo\nTolstoy is dead.\n\n 97.\n\n\n1", "\n\n TOLSTOY\n I never did...but this life is\n behind me now.\n\n He kisses the ground of his beloved home, gets up and they\n walk back to the droshky.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Help me up, will you?\n\n As they go, he hands Valentin an envelope.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Give this to Sofya.\n\n VALENTIN\n I will.\n\n They reach the carriage. Sasha embraces him, kisses him\n", "writing board before him. Sergeyenko hands a\ndocument to Chertkov who lays it on the board.\n\n CHERTKOV\n This will insure that the\n complete works will live in the\n public domain.\n\n SERGEYENKO\n Monumentous.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Your work is the birthright of\n the Russian people. Now, they\n possess it forever.\n\nTolstoy looks up at them.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Yes?", "Sofya enters without knocking. He bolts up\n groggily, tries to hide the little book. Sofya, meanwhile,\n holds up the letter in her hand.\n\n SOFYA\n Lyovochka? Prozeveskeny wants to\n purchase the rights to your work\n after your death.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Then I shall try and die as soon\n as is convenient.\n\n SOFYA\n Don't be silly. They've offered\n ", "TOLSTOY\n There is no new will.\n\n\n58 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. 58\n\n He goes to his desk, tries to ignore her.\n\n\n SOFYA\n Then, promise me there never will\n be.\n\n A moment's hesitation.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I´ve told you the truth. Now, let\n me work. Please, will you?\n\n He", "records the scene in his diary, tears in his\n eyes.\n\n DUSHAN\n Look at the love in him, like\n Jesus..suffering the\n children...all that...\n\n Tolstoy greets a little boy affectionately, rubs his\n knuckles over the boy's shaved head. A little girl\n approaches, takes a photograph. He bends forward to kiss\n her head but she pulls away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n An old man is a very ugly thing.\n\n Tolstoy", "a decent, quiet life, if I\n cannot work, if I cannot find\n some peace, I shall simply go\n away.\n\n SOFYA\n Go? Where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Not to Chertkov, but I shall go.\n\n SOFYA\n Go where?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dushan says you're killing me.\n\nSofya rises up in cold rage.\n\n SOFYA\n Then go! Go! Anywhere you", "\n other like they will never let go.\n\n\n146 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 146\n\n A black draped funeral train waits in the station. Many\n mourners are congregated on the platform. Chertkov comes\n out of the little house, followed by Andrey, Valentin and\n Dushan carrying Tolstoy's coffin to the train.\n\n Sofya appears with Sasha, who escorts her through the\n crowd. The Orthodox priest approaches", ". She looks down to see Tolstoy open his\neyes. He looks at her for a moment, the hint of a smile,\nthen closes his eyes again.\n\nValentin sees it, glances at Sasha. Then, he begins to\nfight for breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n First cessation.\n\nA general sense of panic at the proximity of death. Tolstoy\nfights for a last breath.\n\n DUSHAN\n Second cessation.\n\nSofya whispers quietly to her dying husband.", " Oh darling, I have something else\n to say.\n\n TOLSTOY (O.S.)\n I doubt it not, my dear.\n\n DUSHAN\n He's forgotten his coat.\n\n He runs after him, tripping over the long fur garment.\n\n DUSHAN (O.S.)\n Count Tolstoy, you've forgotten\n your coat.\n\n Meanwhile Sofya notices a photographic portrait of Chertkov\n on the wall. She takes it down and tosses it", "'s sake.\n\n Weak, feverish, Tolstoy sits up in bed. Sasha moves to\n help him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Sofya!\n\n DUSHAN\n What is it? What is it?\n\n Valentin goes to Tolstoy. He's in a kind of panic. Chertkov\n comes into the room.\n\n TOLSTOY\n She's come, hasn't she? She`s\n here.\n\n He points to", "\n\n Tolstoy looks up from the papers, smiles.\n\n TOLSTOY\n I guess our little secret is out.\n\n\n110 OMITTED 110\n\n\n111 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SITTING ROOM. DAY 111\n\n Sofya sits surrounded by the papers. Andrey appears.\n\n ANDREY\n There's a reporter outside from\n the Russian World.\n\n SO", ". He turns to Valentin with tears in\n his eyes.\n\n TOLSTOY\n You see, I no longer feel I have\n a choice in the matter. She\n isn't...\n\n He rides forward toward the approaching Chertkov.\n\n 64.\n\n\n CHERTKOV\n Good afternoon, Leo Nikolayevich.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Is it?\n\nThey help Tolstoy dismount. They lead him to a nearby stump\nand place the", "chel.\n\n Pen in hand, Tolstoy hovers over the document. A long\n moment.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Are you alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n I feel like a conspirator.\n\n Sergeyenko laughs. Chertkov glares at him. It's beyond\n awkward. Valentin looks to the sky, sees the crows\n circling again.\n\n Without further hesitation, Tolstoy picks up the pen and\n signs the document. Then he moves away from", " over and over.\n\n SASHA\n Be well. Be well.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Don't cry. I'll send for you when\n I can.\n\n They help him up onto the droshky and the carriage starts\n slowly away from the old house.\n\n\n97 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. GROUNDS. MORNING 97\n\n Out in front of the house, an old peasant woman pulls the\n feathers off a chicken", "walks to his desk.\n\n\n59 OMITTED 59\n\n\n60 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. LIBRARY. CONTINUOUS. DAY. 60\n\n Tolstoy looks up from his work. Sofya stands in the\n doorway.\n\n SOFYA\n Tomorrow, I'll go to the Station\n and lie down on the track.\n Tolstoy's wife becomes Anna\n Karenina herself! See how the\n", "´t\n I?\n\n MASHA\n No. I feel a little sad, but it\n is not for me. It's for you.\n\n She disappears into the house. Valentin looks after her.\n\n\n55 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S BEDROOM. MORNING. 55\n\n The Countess wakes to find her bed empty.\n\n\n56 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. BACK T", "become intolerable. What I'm\n doing now is what people have\n commonly done - leave their\n worldly life behind to spend\n their last days in peace and\n solitude.\n\n SLOW MOTION She floats, strangely relaxed, beneath the\n water.\n\n TOLSTOY (V.O.)\n I beg you to forgive me for\n everything I've done to you, just\n as I forgive you with all my soul\n for everything you've done to", "still cold, the window is open. Sofya closes it. She\n stands very still, watching Tolstoy sleep. Sitting on the\n bed, she gently touches his hand, whispers.\n\n SOFYA\n Darling.\n\n She lies next to him, something girlish, hopeful in her\n face, as if waiting for him to wake up and adore her, but\n he sleeps on. She carefully takes his arm, positions it\n under her neck, and rolling toward him, wraps it around\n her. The image" ], [ "around him. Her head\nfalls against his shoulder.\n\n 62.\n\n\n MASHA\n Come with me. Please.\n\n Bulgakov doesn't know what to say. The silence gets more\n awkward as it gets longer. Slowly, she disengages herself\n from him,looks him in the eye. She nods.\n\n MASHA\n I'm going to my room.\n\n As she starts away.\n\n VALENTIN\n Don't leave me, Masha", "\n\n Tolstoy sits on a small staircase at the end of the hall.\n Bulgakov is already there on the step above him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Take them downstairs. Thank them\n for me. Offer them a drink.\n\n DUSHAN\n You'll be alright?\n\n TOLSTOY\n Valentin Fedorovich will stay\n with me, won't you, boy\n\n Valentin nods. Dushan goes to collect the doctors.\n\n MOMENT", "\n\n MASHA\n I'm sorry but- It's a mosquito.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Forgive him. He can't help it.\n He's a better Tolstoyan than I\n am.\n\n She can't help laughing again. Valentin sees the color rise\n in Chertkov's face.\n\n CHERTKOV\n It's not the message we want to\n send.\n\n Sasha suddenly appears. She holds a cable in her hand", ". There's general commotion at the new arrival.\n \"The Countess.\" \"Is it the Countess?\"... More press, a\n cinematographer lugging his gear and CHERTKOV. He spots\n Valentin. There is no greeting, no embrace.\n\n CHERTKOV\n Bulgakov! Where is he? Take me\n to him.\n\n As they make their way across the tracks, Chertkov can\n barely contain his glee.\n\n 83.\n\n\n", " MASHA\n I'm going back to Moscow.\n\n VALENTIN\n What?\n\nHe gets up, goes to her.\n\n MASHA\n Chertkov spoke with me this\n afternoon. He says I could be\n more useful there...which\n means...\n\nValentin shakes his head. His lip trembles.\n\n VALENTIN\n This is him punishing us,\n punishing me for befriending\n Sofya Andreyevna. For not...\n This is Chertk", "\n your enemy. I'm delighted that my\n husband has a friend who\n understands and shares his\n ideals. All I want is what's\n reasonable - an opportunity to\n evaluate the new will. If you\n agree, I'm sure we can be\n friends.\n\n CHERTKOV\n You're very kind. Sofya\n Andreyevna. But I can't help you.\n Not without specific instructions\n from your husband.\n\n SOFYA\n (to Bulgakov", "Tolstoy.\n\n MASHA\n I am not. Look, when I read his\n Confession, it moved me, Valya.\n He was searching for freedom.\n Freedom from anger. Freedom from\n attachment. Freedom from all the\n superstition and nonsense of the\n church. It moved me so much. I\n thought that's what it would be\n about. Isn't that what it's\n about? Freedom and love? But\n they mix it all up.\n\nMasha reaches out and puts her arms", "you talk about when\n you're with him?\n (beat)\n Why are you blushing?\n\n VALENTIN\n We talk about me.\n\n MASHA\n Really.\n\n VALENTIN\n He wants to know everything about\n me, my parents, my relations with\n women, my experience of god -\n\nHe looks up to see Masha smiling at him.\n\n MASHA\n And what relations are these?\n\nValentin blushes, goes back to trying to chopping. Almost", " MASHA\n I've brought you a glass of tea.\n\n VALENTIN\n That's very kind of you.\n\n MASHA\n It's your first day. Enjoy it.\n\nShe sits on the bed. He's a little taken aback, not used to\nthis degree of familiarity. It makes no impression on\nMasha.\n\n MASHA\n You met Sergeyenko?\n\n VALENTIN\n Last night.\n\n MASHA\n Ad what do", " No. No. You didn´t confuse me..I\n was stupid. I was afraid, but I'm\n not afraid anymore.\n\nValentin wants to fight through the awkwardness. He tries\nto kiss her. She won't have it. She pulls away.\n\n VALENTIN\n I love you, Masha!\n\n MASHA\n Maybe you could help me a little.\n\nIn silence, he gets the filled buckets balanced on the\npole. Without another word, Masha starts toward the\nbuildings. He", "doesn't know what to do. He's losing her. He\nshouts.\n\n VALENTIN\n Masha...\n\nShe turns\n\n 52.\n\n\n VALENTIN\n Before the other night...I'd\n committed the act of copulation\n many times in my heart.\n\n He has her attention now, as well as that of a number of\n the disciples who look up from their work in the yard.\n\n MASHA\n Yes...\n\n VALENTIN", " here at Telyatinki obviously\n agrees with you.\n\nValentin sneezes mightily, moves a little away.\n\n TOLSTOY\n God bless you, boy. What are you\n nervous about, now? Sit down. Sit\n down.\n\nValentin takes the chair beside him.\n\n TOLSTOY\n Dear Masha, Valentin tells me\n you're the great treasure of\n Telyatinki. He claims you're a\n very gifted teacher.\n\nSerge", " MASHA\n Ssshh.\n\n She begins to move against him. Their faces touch. She\n doesn't kiss him, but he can feel her breath. She sits up.\n\n MASHA\n Move the book.\n\n VALENITN\n What?\n\n MASHA\n Your book.\n\n It's true. Valentin still clutches the diary to his chest.\n He puts it aside. Masha, then, pulls her nightdress over\n head, exposing her", " MASHA\n Have I upset you?\n\nHe looks at her.\n\n VALENTIN\n No...I appreciate your frankness\n\n MASHA\n But you disapprove of me. I see\n it in your eyes.\n\n VALENTIN\n I don't. Not at all...I think\n sexual activity...how men and\n women combine their physical\n parts is completely neutral.\n\n MASHA\n Listen to you. You're a prig.\n Just like Sergeyen", "\"Clear the tracks. Let them pass. Let them\n go.\" Tolstoy closes the door and waves to the crowd as the\n train pulls away.\n\n\n3 EXT. COUNTRYSIDE. DAY. 3\n\n On the chanting crowd now as the train pulls away. We\n focus on a handsome young man, a little stiff maybe, a\n little intellectual. This is VALENTIN FEDOROVITCH\n BULGAKOV. He can't contain his enthusiasm. Over the noise\n of the", "´t\n I?\n\n MASHA\n No. I feel a little sad, but it\n is not for me. It's for you.\n\n She disappears into the house. Valentin looks after her.\n\n\n55 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S BEDROOM. MORNING. 55\n\n The Countess wakes to find her bed empty.\n\n\n56 EXT. YASNAYA POLYANA. BACK T", "...\n I need you.\n\n She turns back for a moment.\n\n MASHA\n I know you do...I know.\n\n Then she's gone.\n\n\n82 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S BEDROOM/HALLWAY. DAY. 82\n\n Sofya in her bed. A team of doctors hover over her. One of\n them peers into her eyes with a sextant-like instrument.\n\n We move into the hall to find", " for the welfare of the family.\n\n CHERTKOV\n (to Tolstoy)\n And we're concerned for the\n welfare of mankind.\n (to Bulgakov)\n Take this down.\n\n Valentin records the conversation in his diary.\n\n TOLSTOY\n It´s a terrible thing you ask. I\n can´t do it.\n\n\n70 INT. YASNAYA POLYANA. SOFYA'S B", "\n\n\n148 EXT. ASTAPOVO. PLATFORM. DAY. 148\n\n VALENTIN\n Excuse me, Countess. This may\n not be the time, but-\n\n Sofya smiles\n\n SOFYA\n Valentin... and who's this...\n\n VALENTIN\n Masha...this is Masha.\n\n Sofya nods.\n\n SOFYA\n This is your girl. Good", "yenko lifts an eyebrow \"Indeed.\". Valentin is in\nagony.\n\n MASHA\n We're happy to have you with us.\n\nTolstoy notices a mosquito on Valentin's cheek. He takes\nthe bug between his big fingers, squeezes until it pops.\nChertkov watches in horror, whispers loudly.\n\n CHERTKOV\n What are you doing?\n\n TOLSTOY\n What do you mean?\n\nHe motions to the photograph" ] ]

[ "Although they had a passionate marriage, what one issue was in disagreement between them?", "What was the name of Tolstoy's secretary?", "What other interest did Valentine Bulgakov have in the Tolstoy family?", "In what way did Tolstoy's followers capitalize on his beliefs regarding private property in order to convince him to change his will?", "Who mediated between Tolstoy and his followers regarding the protection of his works?", "Why was Sofya against the attempts of Tolstoy's followers regarding his works?", "Why did Tolstoy leave his home the last year of his life?", "What brings Sofya to the Astopovo Railway Station?", "How long after Tolstoy's death did it take for the Russian Sentate to restore the copywrite ownership to Sofya?", "What is Tolstoy's viewpoint on copyright?", "What life event is scheduled to happen to Tolstoy in 1910?", "What side do the Tolstoians support for the will?", "Which side is Valentin on?", "Where does Tolstoy die?", "Where does Tolstoy's family see him before he dies?", "What does the Russian court say?", "What does Chertkov plan to do after Tolstoy's death?", "What are the differences between Tolstoy and Sofya in terms of their values?", "What type of will are the Tolstoians trying to get signs?", "Why does Tolstoy initially object to the will?", "What does Bulgakov do?", "What does Tolstoy do after signing the will?", "What does Sofya attempt to do after Tolstoy leaves?", "Where does Tolstoy die?", "What happens five years after Tolstoy's death?", "How are Bulgakov and Masha connected?" ]

[ [ "Religious ideas", "religious views and asceticism " ], [ "Valentine Bulgakov", "Valentin Bulgakov" ], [ "He had a love affair with Marcia.", "He had a love affair with Masha." ], [ "He believed the property should not be privately owned.", "They tried to force him to sign a will to place all his copyrights into the public domain." ], [ "Valentin Bulgakov", "Valentin Bulgakov" ], [ "Support through inheritance of his works would be lost.", "because her viewpoint was more aristocratic, and his copyrights going into public domain would have meant no more money from them" ], [ "To continue his writing without distraction.", "to continue his writing in peace" ], [ "Tolstoy's illness and death", "Tolstoy's impending death " ], [ "Five years", "Five years." ], [ "He prefers public domain.", "opposed it" ], [ "He will die.", "His death" ], [ "Release to the public domain.", "They support the new will" ], [ "Neither, he sees both sides.", "He mediates between both sides." ], [ "At a train station.", "Near the Astapovo train station. " ], [ "They see him briefly at the train station.", "near the Astapovo train station" ], [ "Give the inheritance to Sofiya.", "the copyrights of the late Tolstoy were reverted back to Sofya" ], [ "Chertkov and many of Tolstoy's disciples plan against Sofya for Tolstoy's works.", "Gain control over Tolstoy's works. " ], [ "Tolstoy does not believe in private property where Sofya is aristocratic and has religious views.", "She's more conservative and he's more spiritual " ], [ " One that would leave all of Tolstoy's copyrights in a public domain.", "A will that places all of Tolstoy's copyrights to his work in the public domain" ], [ "He believes that it will cause him to leave inadequate support for his family.", "Doing so will leave his family without sufficient support. " ], [ "He is maneuvering the will and mediating between both sides.", "Attempt to mediate between Sofya and the Tolstoians." ], [ "He travels to an undisclosed location so that he can continue working with being disturbed.", "Travels to an undisclosed location." ], [ "She unsuccessfully tries to commit suicide.", "suicide" ], [ "He falls ill during his journey and is found dead at the Astapovo train station.", "near the Astapovo train station" ], [ "The Russian senate restored the rights to Tolstoy's works to Sofya.", "The Russian senate gives Tolstoy'd copyrights back to Sofya" ], [ "They are having a love affair.", "He has a love affair with her. " ] ]

[ [ "father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though\nit was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the\nworld--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but\nthey're gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,\nwere lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of\nthe Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and\nin by that door.\n\n[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we" ], [ "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "CATHLEEN [To an old man.]\n\nMaybe yourself and Eamon would make a coffin when the sun rises. We have\nfine white boards herself bought, God help her, thinking Michael would\nbe found, and I have a new cake you can eat while you'll be working.\n\nTHE OLD MAN [Looking at the boards.]\n\nAre there nails with them?\n\nCATHLEEN There are not, Colum; we didn't think of the nails.\n\nANOTHER MAN It's a great wonder she wouldn't think of", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA" ], [ "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "all, and maybe when the tide turns she'll\nbe going down to see would he be floating from the east.\n\n[They put the ladder against the gable of the chimney; Cathleen goes up\na few steps and hides the bundle in the turf-loft. Maurya comes from the\ninner room.]\n\nMAURYA [Looking up at Cathleen and speaking querulously.]\n\nIsn't it turf enough you have for this day and evening?\n\nCATHLEEN There's a cake baking at the fire for a short space.", "let you not be afraid. Herself\ndoes be saying prayers half through the night, and the Almighty God\nwon't leave her destitute,\" says he, \"with no son living.\"\n\nCATHLEEN Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?\n\nNORA Middling bad, God help us. There's a great roaring in the west, and\nit's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to the wind.\n\n[She goes over to the table with the bundle.]\n\nShall I open it", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n" ], [ ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "ishmaan, the middle and most interesting island of the Aran group.\nWhile Synge was on Inishmaan, the story came to him of a man whose body\nhad been washed up on the far away coast of Donegal, and who, by reason\nof certain peculiarities of dress, was suspected to be from the island.\nIn due course, he was recognised as a native of Inishmaan, in exactly\nthe manner described in the play, and perhaps one of the most poignantly\nvivid passages in Synge's book on \"The Aran Islands\" rel", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "to\nwind and sky, which are the stuff from which great drama is wrought by\nthe artist, but which, as it would seem, are rapidly departing from us.\nIt is only in the far places, where solitary communion may be had with\nthe elements, that this dynamic life is still to be found continuously,\nand it is accordingly thither that the dramatist, who would deal with\nspiritual life disengaged from the environment of an intellectual maze,\nmust go for that experience which will beget in him inspiration for\nhis art. The Aran Islands from which", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not" ], [ "ishmaan, the middle and most interesting island of the Aran group.\nWhile Synge was on Inishmaan, the story came to him of a man whose body\nhad been washed up on the far away coast of Donegal, and who, by reason\nof certain peculiarities of dress, was suspected to be from the island.\nIn due course, he was recognised as a native of Inishmaan, in exactly\nthe manner described in the play, and perhaps one of the most poignantly\nvivid passages in Synge's book on \"The Aran Islands\" rel", "father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though\nit was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the\nworld--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but\nthey're gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,\nwere lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of\nthe Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and\nin by that door.\n\n[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "the north.\"\n\nCATHLEEN [Trying to open the bundle.]\n\nGive me a knife, Nora, the string's perished with the salt water, and\nthere's a black knot on it you wouldn't loosen in a week.\n\nNORA [Giving her a knife.]\n\nI've heard tell it was a long way to Donegal.\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting the string.]\n\nIt is surely. There was a man in here a while ago--the man sold us that\nknife--and he", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "to\nwind and sky, which are the stuff from which great drama is wrought by\nthe artist, but which, as it would seem, are rapidly departing from us.\nIt is only in the far places, where solitary communion may be had with\nthe elements, that this dynamic life is still to be found continuously,\nand it is accordingly thither that the dramatist, who would deal with\nspiritual life disengaged from the environment of an intellectual maze,\nmust go for that experience which will beget in him inspiration for\nhis art. The Aran Islands from which", "said if you set off walking from the rocks beyond, it\nwould be seven days you'd be in Donegal.\n\nNORA And what time would a man take, and he floating?\n\n[Cathleen opens the bundle and takes out a bit of a stocking. They look\nat them eagerly.]\n\nCATHLEEN [In a low voice.]\n\nThe Lord spare us, Nora! isn't it a queer hard thing to say if it's his\nthey are surely?\n\nNORA I'll get his shirt off the hook", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "\n\nIt's a plain stocking.\n\nNORA It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up three\nscore stitches, and I dropped four of them.\n\nCATHLEEN [Counts the stitches.]\n\nIt's that number is in it [crying out.] Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter\nthing to think of him floating that way to the far north, and no one to\nkeen him but the black hags that do be flying on the sea?\n\nNORA [Swinging", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "CATHLEEN [To an old man.]\n\nMaybe yourself and Eamon would make a coffin when the sun rises. We have\nfine white boards herself bought, God help her, thinking Michael would\nbe found, and I have a new cake you can eat while you'll be working.\n\nTHE OLD MAN [Looking at the boards.]\n\nAre there nails with them?\n\nCATHLEEN There are not, Colum; we didn't think of the nails.\n\nANOTHER MAN It's a great wonder she wouldn't think of", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men" ], [ "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "unsteadily.]\n\nIt's hard set I am to walk.\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking at her anxiously.]\n\nGive her the stick, Nora, or maybe she'll slip on the big stones.\n\nNORA What stick?\n\nCATHLEEN The stick Michael brought from Connemara.\n\nMAURYA [Taking a stick Nora gives her.]\n\nIn the big world the old people do be leaving things after them for\ntheir sons and children, but in this place it is the young men do be\nleaving", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "EN.\n\nFebruary 23, 1911.\n\n\n\n\nRIDERS TO THE SEA\n\nA PLAY IN ONE ACT\n\nFirst performed at the Molesworth Hall, Dublin, February 25th, 1904.\n\n\n\n\nPERSONS\n\n MAURYA (an old woman)...... Honor Lavelle\n\n BARTLEY (her son).......... W. G. Fay\n\n CATHLEEN (her daughter).... Sarah Allgood\n\n " ], [ "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though\nit was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the\nworld--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but\nthey're gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,\nwere lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of\nthe Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and\nin by that door.\n\n[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", ".\nIt isn't that I haven't said prayers in the dark night till you wouldn't\nknow what I'ld be saying; but it's a great rest I'll have now, and it's\ntime surely. It's a great rest I'll have now, and great sleeping in the\nlong nights after Samhain, if it's only a bit of wet flour we do have to\neat, and maybe a fish that would be stinking.\n\n[She kneels down again, crossing herself, and saying prayers under her\nbreath.]\n\n", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west" ], [ "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes.]\n\nAnd isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who\nwas a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain\nstocking?\n\nCATHLEEN [After an instant.]\n\nTell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nShe is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.\n\nCATHLEEN Put these things away before she'll come", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "things behind for them that do be old.\n\n[She goes out slowly. Nora goes over to the ladder.]\n\nCATHLEEN Wait, Nora, maybe she'd turn back quickly. She's that sorry,\nGod help her, you wouldn't know the thing she'd do.\n\nNORA Is she gone round by the bush?\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out.]\n\nShe's gone now. Throw it down quickly, for the Lord knows when she'll be\nout of it again.\n\nNORA [Getting the", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "of God forgive us, Nora, we're after forgetting his bit of\nbread.\n\n[She comes over to the fire.]\n\nNORA And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he after\neating nothing since the sun went up.\n\nCATHLEEN [Turning the cake out of the oven.]\n\nIt's destroyed he'll be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in\na house where an old woman will be talking for ever.\n\n[Maurya sways herself on her stool.]", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "\n\nIt's a plain stocking.\n\nNORA It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up three\nscore stitches, and I dropped four of them.\n\nCATHLEEN [Counts the stitches.]\n\nIt's that number is in it [crying out.] Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter\nthing to think of him floating that way to the far north, and no one to\nkeen him but the black hags that do be flying on the sea?\n\nNORA [Swinging", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's" ], [ "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though\nit was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the\nworld--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but\nthey're gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,\nwere lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of\nthe Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and\nin by that door.\n\n[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a cloth; to\nMaurya.]\n\nLet you go down now to the spring well and give him this and he passing.\nYou'll see him then and the dark word will be broken, and you can say\n\"God speed you,\" the way he'll be easy in his mind.\n\nMAURYA [Taking the bread.]\n\nWill I be in it as soon as himself?\n\nCATHLEEN If you go now quickly.\n\nMAURYA [Standing up", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west" ], [ "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though\nit was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the\nworld--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but\nthey're gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,\nwere lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of\nthe Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and\nin by that door.\n\n[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "of God forgive us, Nora, we're after forgetting his bit of\nbread.\n\n[She comes over to the fire.]\n\nNORA And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he after\neating nothing since the sun went up.\n\nCATHLEEN [Turning the cake out of the oven.]\n\nIt's destroyed he'll be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in\na house where an old woman will be talking for ever.\n\n[Maurya sways herself on her stool.]" ], [ "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a cloth; to\nMaurya.]\n\nLet you go down now to the spring well and give him this and he passing.\nYou'll see him then and the dark word will be broken, and you can say\n\"God speed you,\" the way he'll be easy in his mind.\n\nMAURYA [Taking the bread.]\n\nWill I be in it as soon as himself?\n\nCATHLEEN If you go now quickly.\n\nMAURYA [Standing up" ], [ ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "the way we can put the one flannel\non the other [she looks through some clothes hanging in the corner.]\nIt's not with them, Cathleen, and where will it be?\n\nCATHLEEN I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for his own\nshirt was heavy with the salt in it [pointing to the corner]. There's a\nbit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me that and it will do.\n\n[Nora brings it to her and they compare the flannel.]\n\nCATHLEEN It's", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again" ], [ "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes.]\n\nAnd isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who\nwas a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain\nstocking?\n\nCATHLEEN [After an instant.]\n\nTell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nShe is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.\n\nCATHLEEN Put these things away before she'll come", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "head in at the door.)\n\n\nNORA [In a low voice.]\n\nWhere is she?\n\nCATHLEEN She's lying down, God help her, and may be sleeping, if she's\nable.\n\n[Nora comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Spinning the wheel rapidly.]\n\nWhat is it you have?\n\nNORA The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a plain\nstocking were got off a drowned man in Done", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "things behind for them that do be old.\n\n[She goes out slowly. Nora goes over to the ladder.]\n\nCATHLEEN Wait, Nora, maybe she'd turn back quickly. She's that sorry,\nGod help her, you wouldn't know the thing she'd do.\n\nNORA Is she gone round by the bush?\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out.]\n\nShe's gone now. Throw it down quickly, for the Lord knows when she'll be\nout of it again.\n\nNORA [Getting the", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "the north.\"\n\nCATHLEEN [Trying to open the bundle.]\n\nGive me a knife, Nora, the string's perished with the salt water, and\nthere's a black knot on it you wouldn't loosen in a week.\n\nNORA [Giving her a knife.]\n\nI've heard tell it was a long way to Donegal.\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting the string.]\n\nIt is surely. There was a man in here a while ago--the man sold us that\nknife--and he", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "\n\nIt's a plain stocking.\n\nNORA It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up three\nscore stitches, and I dropped four of them.\n\nCATHLEEN [Counts the stitches.]\n\nIt's that number is in it [crying out.] Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter\nthing to think of him floating that way to the far north, and no one to\nkeen him but the black hags that do be flying on the sea?\n\nNORA [Swinging", "the way we can put the one flannel\non the other [she looks through some clothes hanging in the corner.]\nIt's not with them, Cathleen, and where will it be?\n\nCATHLEEN I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for his own\nshirt was heavy with the salt in it [pointing to the corner]. There's a\nbit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me that and it will do.\n\n[Nora brings it to her and they compare the flannel.]\n\nCATHLEEN It's", "CATHLEEN [To an old man.]\n\nMaybe yourself and Eamon would make a coffin when the sun rises. We have\nfine white boards herself bought, God help her, thinking Michael would\nbe found, and I have a new cake you can eat while you'll be working.\n\nTHE OLD MAN [Looking at the boards.]\n\nAre there nails with them?\n\nCATHLEEN There are not, Colum; we didn't think of the nails.\n\nANOTHER MAN It's a great wonder she wouldn't think of", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "said if you set off walking from the rocks beyond, it\nwould be seven days you'd be in Donegal.\n\nNORA And what time would a man take, and he floating?\n\n[Cathleen opens the bundle and takes out a bit of a stocking. They look\nat them eagerly.]\n\nCATHLEEN [In a low voice.]\n\nThe Lord spare us, Nora! isn't it a queer hard thing to say if it's his\nthey are surely?\n\nNORA I'll get his shirt off the hook", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "let you not be afraid. Herself\ndoes be saying prayers half through the night, and the Almighty God\nwon't leave her destitute,\" says he, \"with no son living.\"\n\nCATHLEEN Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?\n\nNORA Middling bad, God help us. There's a great roaring in the west, and\nit's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to the wind.\n\n[She goes over to the table with the bundle.]\n\nShall I open it", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope" ], [ "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", ". Bartley will have a fine coffin out of the white boards,\nand a deep grave surely. What more can we want than that? No man at all\ncan be living for ever, and we must be satisfied.\n\n[She kneels down again and the curtain falls slowly.]\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Riders to the Sea, by J. M. Synge\n\n", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "the way we can put the one flannel\non the other [she looks through some clothes hanging in the corner.]\nIt's not with them, Cathleen, and where will it be?\n\nCATHLEEN I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for his own\nshirt was heavy with the salt in it [pointing to the corner]. There's a\nbit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me that and it will do.\n\n[Nora brings it to her and they compare the flannel.]\n\nCATHLEEN It's" ], [ "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", ".\nIt isn't that I haven't said prayers in the dark night till you wouldn't\nknow what I'ld be saying; but it's a great rest I'll have now, and it's\ntime surely. It's a great rest I'll have now, and great sleeping in the\nlong nights after Samhain, if it's only a bit of wet flour we do have to\neat, and maybe a fish that would be stinking.\n\n[She kneels down again, crossing herself, and saying prayers under her\nbreath.]\n\n", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "of God forgive us, Nora, we're after forgetting his bit of\nbread.\n\n[She comes over to the fire.]\n\nNORA And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he after\neating nothing since the sun went up.\n\nCATHLEEN [Turning the cake out of the oven.]\n\nIt's destroyed he'll be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in\na house where an old woman will be talking for ever.\n\n[Maurya sways herself on her stool.]", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a cloth; to\nMaurya.]\n\nLet you go down now to the spring well and give him this and he passing.\nYou'll see him then and the dark word will be broken, and you can say\n\"God speed you,\" the way he'll be easy in his mind.\n\nMAURYA [Taking the bread.]\n\nWill I be in it as soon as himself?\n\nCATHLEEN If you go now quickly.\n\nMAURYA [Standing up", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n" ], [ "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a cloth; to\nMaurya.]\n\nLet you go down now to the spring well and give him this and he passing.\nYou'll see him then and the dark word will be broken, and you can say\n\"God speed you,\" the way he'll be easy in his mind.\n\nMAURYA [Taking the bread.]\n\nWill I be in it as soon as himself?\n\nCATHLEEN If you go now quickly.\n\nMAURYA [Standing up", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "world.\n\nCATHLEEN Why wouldn't you give him your blessing and he looking round in\nthe door? Isn't it sorrow enough is on every one in this house without\nyour sending him out with an unlucky word behind him, and a hard word in\nhis ear?\n\n[Maurya takes up the tongs and begins raking the fire aimlessly without\nlooking round.]\n\nNORA [Turning towards her.]\n\nYou're taking away the turf from the cake.\n\nCATHLEEN [Crying out.]\n\nThe Son" ], [ "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing" ], [ "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "ishmaan, the middle and most interesting island of the Aran group.\nWhile Synge was on Inishmaan, the story came to him of a man whose body\nhad been washed up on the far away coast of Donegal, and who, by reason\nof certain peculiarities of dress, was suspected to be from the island.\nIn due course, he was recognised as a native of Inishmaan, in exactly\nthe manner described in the play, and perhaps one of the most poignantly\nvivid passages in Synge's book on \"The Aran Islands\" rel", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "father, and six sons in this house--six fine men, though\nit was a hard birth I had with every one of them and they coming to the\nworld--and some of them were found and some of them were not found, but\nthey're gone now the lot of them. . . There were Stephen, and Shawn,\nwere lost in the great wind, and found after in the Bay of Gregory of\nthe Golden Mouth, and carried up the two of them on the one plank, and\nin by that door.\n\n[She pauses for a moment, the girls start as", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]" ], [ "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two\ndays, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.\n\nMAURYA [Turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head.]\n\nIsn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and\nshe holding him from the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who\nwould listen to an old woman with one thing", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "URYA [Raising her head and speaking as if she did not see the people\naround her.]\n\nThey're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to\nme.... I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind\nbreaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the\nsurf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they\nhitting one on the other. I'll have no call now to be going down and\ngetting Holy", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a cloth; to\nMaurya.]\n\nLet you go down now to the spring well and give him this and he passing.\nYou'll see him then and the dark word will be broken, and you can say\n\"God speed you,\" the way he'll be easy in his mind.\n\nMAURYA [Taking the bread.]\n\nWill I be in it as soon as himself?\n\nCATHLEEN If you go now quickly.\n\nMAURYA [Standing up", "all, and maybe when the tide turns she'll\nbe going down to see would he be floating from the east.\n\n[They put the ladder against the gable of the chimney; Cathleen goes up\na few steps and hides the bundle in the turf-loft. Maurya comes from the\ninner room.]\n\nMAURYA [Looking up at Cathleen and speaking querulously.]\n\nIsn't it turf enough you have for this day and evening?\n\nCATHLEEN There's a cake baking at the fire for a short space." ], [ "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", ". Bartley will have a fine coffin out of the white boards,\nand a deep grave surely. What more can we want than that? No man at all\ncan be living for ever, and we must be satisfied.\n\n[She kneels down again and the curtain falls slowly.]\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Riders to the Sea, by J. M. Synge\n\n", "There was Patch after was drowned out of a curagh that turned over.\nI was sitting here with Bartley, and he a baby, lying on my two knees,\nand I seen two women, and three women, and four women coming in, and\nthey crossing themselves, and not saying a word. I looked out then, and\nthere were men coming after them, and they holding a thing in the half\nof a red sail, and water dripping out of it--it was a dry day, Nora--and\nleaving a track to the door.\n\n[She pauses again" ], [ "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "can sell the pig with the black feet if\nthere is a good price going.\n\nMAURYA How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?\n\nBARTLEY [To Cathleen]\n\nIf the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora\nget up weed enough for another cock for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be\nfrom this day with no one in it but one man to work.\n\nMAURYA It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drow", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll" ], [ "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you" ], [ "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "NORA (a younger daughter).. Emma Vernon\n\n MEN AND WOMEN\n\n\n\n\n\nSCENE.\n\n--An Island off the West of Ireland. (Cottage kitchen, with nets,\noil-skins, spinning wheel, some new boards standing by the wall, etc.\nCathleen, a girl of about twenty, finishes kneading cake, and puts it\ndown in the pot-oven by the fire; then wipes her hands, and begins to\nspin at the wheel. NORA, a young girl, puts her", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "head in at the door.)\n\n\nNORA [In a low voice.]\n\nWhere is she?\n\nCATHLEEN She's lying down, God help her, and may be sleeping, if she's\nable.\n\n[Nora comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Spinning the wheel rapidly.]\n\nWhat is it you have?\n\nNORA The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a plain\nstocking were got off a drowned man in Done", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes.]\n\nAnd isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who\nwas a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain\nstocking?\n\nCATHLEEN [After an instant.]\n\nTell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nShe is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.\n\nCATHLEEN Put these things away before she'll come", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "the north.\"\n\nCATHLEEN [Trying to open the bundle.]\n\nGive me a knife, Nora, the string's perished with the salt water, and\nthere's a black knot on it you wouldn't loosen in a week.\n\nNORA [Giving her a knife.]\n\nI've heard tell it was a long way to Donegal.\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting the string.]\n\nIt is surely. There was a man in here a while ago--the man sold us that\nknife--and he", "let you not be afraid. Herself\ndoes be saying prayers half through the night, and the Almighty God\nwon't leave her destitute,\" says he, \"with no son living.\"\n\nCATHLEEN Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?\n\nNORA Middling bad, God help us. There's a great roaring in the west, and\nit's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to the wind.\n\n[She goes over to the table with the bundle.]\n\nShall I open it", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "things behind for them that do be old.\n\n[She goes out slowly. Nora goes over to the ladder.]\n\nCATHLEEN Wait, Nora, maybe she'd turn back quickly. She's that sorry,\nGod help her, you wouldn't know the thing she'd do.\n\nNORA Is she gone round by the bush?\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out.]\n\nShe's gone now. Throw it down quickly, for the Lord knows when she'll be\nout of it again.\n\nNORA [Getting the", "\n\nIt's a plain stocking.\n\nNORA It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up three\nscore stitches, and I dropped four of them.\n\nCATHLEEN [Counts the stitches.]\n\nIt's that number is in it [crying out.] Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter\nthing to think of him floating that way to the far north, and no one to\nkeen him but the black hags that do be flying on the sea?\n\nNORA [Swinging", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "said if you set off walking from the rocks beyond, it\nwould be seven days you'd be in Donegal.\n\nNORA And what time would a man take, and he floating?\n\n[Cathleen opens the bundle and takes out a bit of a stocking. They look\nat them eagerly.]\n\nCATHLEEN [In a low voice.]\n\nThe Lord spare us, Nora! isn't it a queer hard thing to say if it's his\nthey are surely?\n\nNORA I'll get his shirt off the hook" ], [ "NORA (a younger daughter).. Emma Vernon\n\n MEN AND WOMEN\n\n\n\n\n\nSCENE.\n\n--An Island off the West of Ireland. (Cottage kitchen, with nets,\noil-skins, spinning wheel, some new boards standing by the wall, etc.\nCathleen, a girl of about twenty, finishes kneading cake, and puts it\ndown in the pot-oven by the fire; then wipes her hands, and begins to\nspin at the wheel. NORA, a young girl, puts her", "herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes.]\n\nAnd isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who\nwas a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain\nstocking?\n\nCATHLEEN [After an instant.]\n\nTell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nShe is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.\n\nCATHLEEN Put these things away before she'll come", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "things behind for them that do be old.\n\n[She goes out slowly. Nora goes over to the ladder.]\n\nCATHLEEN Wait, Nora, maybe she'd turn back quickly. She's that sorry,\nGod help her, you wouldn't know the thing she'd do.\n\nNORA Is she gone round by the bush?\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out.]\n\nShe's gone now. Throw it down quickly, for the Lord knows when she'll be\nout of it again.\n\nNORA [Getting the", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "head in at the door.)\n\n\nNORA [In a low voice.]\n\nWhere is she?\n\nCATHLEEN She's lying down, God help her, and may be sleeping, if she's\nable.\n\n[Nora comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Spinning the wheel rapidly.]\n\nWhat is it you have?\n\nNORA The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a plain\nstocking were got off a drowned man in Done", "the north.\"\n\nCATHLEEN [Trying to open the bundle.]\n\nGive me a knife, Nora, the string's perished with the salt water, and\nthere's a black knot on it you wouldn't loosen in a week.\n\nNORA [Giving her a knife.]\n\nI've heard tell it was a long way to Donegal.\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting the string.]\n\nIt is surely. There was a man in here a while ago--the man sold us that\nknife--and he", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "let you not be afraid. Herself\ndoes be saying prayers half through the night, and the Almighty God\nwon't leave her destitute,\" says he, \"with no son living.\"\n\nCATHLEEN Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?\n\nNORA Middling bad, God help us. There's a great roaring in the west, and\nit's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to the wind.\n\n[She goes over to the table with the bundle.]\n\nShall I open it", "the way we can put the one flannel\non the other [she looks through some clothes hanging in the corner.]\nIt's not with them, Cathleen, and where will it be?\n\nCATHLEEN I'm thinking Bartley put it on him in the morning, for his own\nshirt was heavy with the salt in it [pointing to the corner]. There's a\nbit of a sleeve was of the same stuff. Give me that and it will do.\n\n[Nora brings it to her and they compare the flannel.]\n\nCATHLEEN It's", "of God forgive us, Nora, we're after forgetting his bit of\nbread.\n\n[She comes over to the fire.]\n\nNORA And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he after\neating nothing since the sun went up.\n\nCATHLEEN [Turning the cake out of the oven.]\n\nIt's destroyed he'll be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in\na house where an old woman will be talking for ever.\n\n[Maurya sways herself on her stool.]", "world.\n\nCATHLEEN Why wouldn't you give him your blessing and he looking round in\nthe door? Isn't it sorrow enough is on every one in this house without\nyour sending him out with an unlucky word behind him, and a hard word in\nhis ear?\n\n[Maurya takes up the tongs and begins raking the fire aimlessly without\nlooking round.]\n\nNORA [Turning towards her.]\n\nYou're taking away the turf from the cake.\n\nCATHLEEN [Crying out.]\n\nThe Son", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]", "\n\nIt's a plain stocking.\n\nNORA It's the second one of the third pair I knitted, and I put up three\nscore stitches, and I dropped four of them.\n\nCATHLEEN [Counts the stitches.]\n\nIt's that number is in it [crying out.] Ah, Nora, isn't it a bitter\nthing to think of him floating that way to the far north, and no one to\nkeen him but the black hags that do be flying on the sea?\n\nNORA [Swinging", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "now?\n\nCATHLEEN Maybe she'd wake up on us, and come in before we'd done.\n\n[Coming to the table.]\n\nIt's a long time we'll be, and the two of us crying.\n\nNORA [Goes to the inner door and listens.]\n\nShe's moving about on the bed. She'll be coming in a minute.\n\nCATHLEEN Give me the ladder, and I'll put them up in the turf-loft, the\nway she won't know of them at", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI" ], [ "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "bundle from the loft.]\n\nThe young priest said he'd be passing to-morrow, and we might go down\nand speak to him below if it's Michael's they are surely.\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the bundle.]\n\nDid he say what way they were found?\n\nNORA [Coming down.]\n\n\"There were two men,\" says he, \"and they rowing round with poteen before\nthe cocks crowed, and the oar of one of them caught the body, and they\npassing the black cliffs of", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "gal.\n\n[Cathleen stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to\nlisten.]\n\nNORA We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself\nwill be down looking by the sea.\n\nCATHLEEN How would they be Michael's, Nora. How would he go the length\nof that way to the far north?\n\nNORA The young priest says he's known the like of it. \"If it's Michael's\nthey are,\" says he, \"you can tell herself he", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "head in at the door.)\n\n\nNORA [In a low voice.]\n\nWhere is she?\n\nCATHLEEN She's lying down, God help her, and may be sleeping, if she's\nable.\n\n[Nora comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Spinning the wheel rapidly.]\n\nWhat is it you have?\n\nNORA The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a plain\nstocking were got off a drowned man in Done", "the same stuff, Nora; but if it is itself aren't there\ngreat rolls of it in the shops of Galway, and isn't it many another man\nmay have a shirt of it as well as Michael himself?\n\nNORA [Who has taken up the stocking and counted the stitches, crying\nout.]\n\nIt's Michael, Cathleen, it's Michael; God spare his soul, and what will\nherself say when she hears this story, and Bartley on the sea?\n\nCATHLEEN [Taking the stocking.]", "CATHLEEN [To an old man.]\n\nMaybe yourself and Eamon would make a coffin when the sun rises. We have\nfine white boards herself bought, God help her, thinking Michael would\nbe found, and I have a new cake you can eat while you'll be working.\n\nTHE OLD MAN [Looking at the boards.]\n\nAre there nails with them?\n\nCATHLEEN There are not, Colum; we didn't think of the nails.\n\nANOTHER MAN It's a great wonder she wouldn't think of", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes.]\n\nAnd isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who\nwas a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain\nstocking?\n\nCATHLEEN [After an instant.]\n\nTell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nShe is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.\n\nCATHLEEN Put these things away before she'll come", "the north.\"\n\nCATHLEEN [Trying to open the bundle.]\n\nGive me a knife, Nora, the string's perished with the salt water, and\nthere's a black knot on it you wouldn't loosen in a week.\n\nNORA [Giving her a knife.]\n\nI've heard tell it was a long way to Donegal.\n\nCATHLEEN [Cutting the string.]\n\nIt is surely. There was a man in here a while ago--the man sold us that\nknife--and he", "said if you set off walking from the rocks beyond, it\nwould be seven days you'd be in Donegal.\n\nNORA And what time would a man take, and he floating?\n\n[Cathleen opens the bundle and takes out a bit of a stocking. They look\nat them eagerly.]\n\nCATHLEEN [In a low voice.]\n\nThe Lord spare us, Nora! isn't it a queer hard thing to say if it's his\nthey are surely?\n\nNORA I'll get his shirt off the hook", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God" ], [ "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men" ], [ "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "ORA looks out.]\n\nNORA They're carrying a thing among them and there's water dripping out\nof it and leaving a track by the big stones.\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper to the women who have come in.]\n\nIs it Bartley it is?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN It is surely, God rest his soul.\n\n[Two younger women come in and pull out the table. Then men carry in the\nbody of Bartley, laid on a plank, with a bit of a sail over it, and lay\nit on the", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men" ], [ "\nMichael, and would any one have thought that?\n\nCATHLEEN [Slowly and clearly.]\n\nAn old woman will be soon tired with anything she will do, and isn't it\nnine days herself is after crying and keening, and making great sorrow\nin the house?\n\nMAURYA [Puts the empty cup mouth downwards on the table, and lays her\nhands together on Bartley's feet.]\n\nThey're all together this time, and the end is come. May the Almighty\nGod have mercy on", "and she saying it over?\n\nBARTLEY [Taking the halter.]\n\nI must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray\npony'll run behind me. . . The blessing of God on you.\n\n[He goes out.]\n\nMAURYA [Crying out as he is in the door.]\n\nHe's gone now, God spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone\nnow, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the\n", "Bartley's soul, and on Michael's soul, and on the\nsouls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head]);\nand may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is\nleft living in the world.\n\n[She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women,\nthen sinks away.]\n\nMAURYA [Continuing.]\n\nMichael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God", "are from this day. It's destroyed, surely.\n\nNORA Didn't the young priest say the Almighty God wouldn't leave her\ndestitute with no son living?\n\nMAURYA [In a low voice, but clearly.]\n\nIt's little the like of him knows of the sea. . . . Bartley will be\nlost now, and let you call in Eamon and make me a good coffin out of\nthe white boards, for I won't live after them. I've had a husband, and\na husband's", "CATHLEEN Did you see him riding down?\n\n[Maurya goes on keening.]\n\nCATHLEEN [A little impatiently.]\n\nGod forgive you; isn't it a better thing to raise your voice and tell\nwhat you seen, than to be making lamentation for a thing that's done?\nDid you see Bartley, I'm saying to you?\n\nMAURYA [With a weak voice.]\n\nMy heart's broken from this day.\n\nCATHLEEN [As before.]\n\nDid you see Bartley", "'m after seeing him this day, and he riding and galloping. Bartley came\nfirst on the red mare; and I tried to say \"God speed you,\" but something\nchoked the words in my throat. He went by quickly; and \"the blessing of\nGod on you,\" says he, and I could say nothing. I looked up then, and\nI crying, at the gray pony, and there was Michael upon it--with fine\nclothes on him, and new shoes on his feet.\n\nCATHLEEN [Begins to keen.]\n\nIt's destroyed we", "ival, and sets it high in a timeless atmosphere of\nuniversal action.\n\nIts characters live and die. It is their virtue in life to be lonely,\nand none but the lonely man in tragedy may be great. He dies, and then\nit is the virtue in life of the women mothers and wives and sisters to\nbe great in their loneliness, great as Maurya, the stricken mother, is\ngreat in her final word.\n\n\"Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the\nAlmighty God. Bartley", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "the gray pony behind him [she puts up her hands, as if to hide something\nfrom her eyes.] The Son of God spare us, Nora!\n\nCATHLEEN What is it you seen.\n\nMAURYA I seen Michael himself.\n\nCATHLEEN [Speaking softly.]\n\nYou did not, mother; it wasn't Michael you seen, for his body is after\nbeing found in the far north, and he's got a clean burial by the grace\nof God.\n\nMAURYA [A little defiantly.]\n\nI", "floating round in the sea, and\nwhat way would they know if it was Michael they had, or another man like\nhim, for when a man is nine days in the sea, and the wind blowing, it's\nhard set his own mother would be to say what man was it.\n\nCATHLEEN It's Michael, God spare him, for they're after sending us a bit\nof his clothes from the far north.\n\n[She reaches out and hands Maurya the clothes that belonged to Michael.\nMaurya stands up slowly, and takes them into her hands. N", "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", ", Bartley, hanging by the boards\n[Bartley takes the rope]. It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling\nyou, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning,\nor any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the\ngrace of God.\n\nBARTLEY [Beginning to work with the rope.]\n\nI've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now\nquickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or", "beyond it, and the\nfair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.\n\nMAURYA It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed\nup and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big\nprice for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara.\n\n[She looks round at the boards.]\n\nBARTLEY How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for\nnine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "?\n\nMAURYA I seen the fearfulest thing.\n\nCATHLEEN [Leaves her wheel and looks out.]\n\nGod forgive you; he's riding the mare now over the green head, and the\ngray pony behind him.\n\nMAURYA [Starts, so that her shawl falls back from her head and shows her\nwhite tossed hair. With a frightened voice.]\n\nThe gray pony behind him.\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming to the fire.]\n\nWhat is it ails you, at all?\n\nMA", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "and\nsouth?\n\nMAURYA If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and\nthere was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it\nwas a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the\nprice of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?\n\nBARTLEY [Working at the halter, to Cathleen.]\n\nLet you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the\nrye, and if the jobber comes you" ], [ "the nails, and all\nthe coffins she's seen made already.\n\nCATHLEEN It's getting old she is, and broken.\n\n[Maurya stands up again very slowly and spreads out the pieces of\nMichael's clothes beside the body, sprinkling them with the last of the\nHoly Water.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper to Cathleen.]\n\nShe's quiet now and easy; but the day Michael was drowned you could\nhear her crying out from this to the spring well. It's fonder she was of", "if they heard something\nthrough the door that is half open behind them.]\n\nNORA [In a whisper.]\n\nDid you hear that, Cathleen? Did you hear a noise in the north-east?\n\nCATHLEEN [In a whisper.]\n\nThere's some one after crying out by the seashore.\n\nMAURYA [Continues without hearing anything.]\n\nThere was Sheamus and his father, and his own father again, were lost in\na dark night, and not a stick or sign was seen of them when the sun went\nup.", "be on you.\n\n[Nora sits down at the chimney corner, with her back to the door. Maurya\ncomes in very slowly, without looking at the girls, and goes over to her\nstool at the other side of the fire. The cloth with the bread is still\nin her hand. The girls look at each other, and Nora points to the bundle\nof bread.]\n\nCATHLEEN [After spinning for a moment.]\n\nYou didn't give him his bit of bread?\n\n[Maurya begins to keen softly, without turning round.]\n\n", "Water in the dark nights after Samhain, and I won't care\nwhat way the sea is when the other women will be keening. [To Nora]. Give\nme the Holy Water, Nora, there's a small sup still on the dresser.\n\n[Nora gives it to her.]\n\nMAURYA [Drops Michael's clothes across Bartley's feet, and sprinkles the\nHoly Water over him.]\n\nIt isn't that I haven't prayed for you, Bartley, to the Almighty God", "of God forgive us, Nora, we're after forgetting his bit of\nbread.\n\n[She comes over to the fire.]\n\nNORA And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he after\neating nothing since the sun went up.\n\nCATHLEEN [Turning the cake out of the oven.]\n\nIt's destroyed he'll be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in\na house where an old woman will be talking for ever.\n\n[Maurya sways herself on her stool.]", "herself round, and throwing out her arms on the clothes.]\n\nAnd isn't it a pitiful thing when there is nothing left of a man who\nwas a great rower and fisher, but a bit of an old shirt and a plain\nstocking?\n\nCATHLEEN [After an instant.]\n\nTell me is herself coming, Nora? I hear a little sound on the path.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nShe is, Cathleen. She's coming up to the door.\n\nCATHLEEN Put these things away before she'll come", "and Colum Shawn saying he would go.\n\nMAURYA Where is he itself?\n\nNORA He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the\nweek, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the\ntide's turning at the green head, and the hooker' tacking from the east.\n\nCATHLEEN I hear some one passing the big stones.\n\nNORA [Looking out.]\n\nHe's coming now, and he's in a hurry.\n\n", "BARTLEY [Comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly.]\n\nWhere is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?\n\nCATHLEEN [Coming down.]\n\nGive it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up\nthis morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.\n\nNORA [Giving him a rope.]\n\nIs that it, Bartley?\n\nMAURYA You'd do right to leave that rope", "world.\n\nCATHLEEN Why wouldn't you give him your blessing and he looking round in\nthe door? Isn't it sorrow enough is on every one in this house without\nyour sending him out with an unlucky word behind him, and a hard word in\nhis ear?\n\n[Maurya takes up the tongs and begins raking the fire aimlessly without\nlooking round.]\n\nNORA [Turning towards her.]\n\nYou're taking away the turf from the cake.\n\nCATHLEEN [Crying out.]\n\nThe Son", "head in at the door.)\n\n\nNORA [In a low voice.]\n\nWhere is she?\n\nCATHLEEN She's lying down, God help her, and may be sleeping, if she's\nable.\n\n[Nora comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Spinning the wheel rapidly.]\n\nWhat is it you have?\n\nNORA The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a plain\nstocking were got off a drowned man in Done", "nd'd with the\nrest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman\nlooking for the grave?\n\n[Bartley lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a\nnewer one of the same flannel.]\n\nBARTLEY [To Nora.]\n\nIs she coming to the pier?\n\nNORA [Looking out.] She's passing the green head and letting fall her\nsails.\n\nBARTLEY [Getting his purse and tobacco.]\n\nI'll", "now?\n\nCATHLEEN Maybe she'd wake up on us, and come in before we'd done.\n\n[Coming to the table.]\n\nIt's a long time we'll be, and the two of us crying.\n\nNORA [Goes to the inner door and listens.]\n\nShe's moving about on the bed. She'll be coming in a minute.\n\nCATHLEEN Give me the ladder, and I'll put them up in the turf-loft, the\nway she won't know of them at", "URYA [Speaking very slowly.]\n\nI've seen the fearfulest thing any person has seen, since the day Bride\nDara seen the dead man with the child in his arms.\n\nCATHLEEN AND NORA UAH.\n\n[They crouch down in front of the old woman at the fire.]\n\nNORA Tell us what it is you seen.\n\nMAURYA I went down to the spring well, and I stood there saying a prayer\nto myself. Then Bartley came along, and he riding on the red mare with\n", "things behind for them that do be old.\n\n[She goes out slowly. Nora goes over to the ladder.]\n\nCATHLEEN Wait, Nora, maybe she'd turn back quickly. She's that sorry,\nGod help her, you wouldn't know the thing she'd do.\n\nNORA Is she gone round by the bush?\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out.]\n\nShe's gone now. Throw it down quickly, for the Lord knows when she'll be\nout of it again.\n\nNORA [Getting the", "in. Maybe it's easier\nshe'll be after giving her blessing to Bartley, and we won't let on\nwe've heard anything the time he's on the sea.\n\nNORA [Helping Cathleen to close the bundle.]\n\nWe'll put them here in the corner.\n\n[They put them into a hole in the chimney corner. Cathleen goes back to\nthe spinning-wheel.]\n\nNORA Will she see it was crying I was?\n\nCATHLEEN Keep your back to the door the way the light'll not", "with her hand stretched out towards the door. It\nopens softly and old women begin to come in, crossing themselves on the\nthreshold, and kneeling down in front of the stage with red petticoats\nover their heads.]\n\nMAURYA [Half in a dream, to Cathleen.]\n\nIs it Patch, or Michael, or what is it at all?\n\nCATHLEEN Michael is after being found in the far north, and when he is\nfound there how could he be here in this place?\n\nMAURYA There does be a power of young men", "'s got a clean burial by the\ngrace of God, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them,\nfor she'll be getting her death,\" says he, \"with crying and lamenting.\"\n\n[The door which Nora half closed is blown open by a gust of wind.]\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking out anxiously.]\n\nDid you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to\nthe Galway fair?\n\nNORA \"I won't stop him,\" says he, \"but", "table.]\n\nCATHLEEN [To the women, as they are doing so.]\n\nWhat way was he drowned?\n\nONE OF THE WOMEN The gray pony knocked him into the sea, and he was\nwashed out where there is a great surf on the white rocks.\n\n[Maurya has gone over and knelt down at the head of the table. The women\nare keening softly and swaying themselves with a slow movement. Cathleen\nand Nora kneel at the other end of the table. The men kneel near the\ndoor.]\n\nMA", "[Throwing\ndown the turf] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes\nto Connemara.\n\n[Nora picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven.]\n\nMAURYA [Sitting down on a stool at the fire.]\n\nHe won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He\nwon't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.\n\nNORA He'll not stop him, mother, and I heard Eamon Simon and Stephen\nPheety", "unsteadily.]\n\nIt's hard set I am to walk.\n\nCATHLEEN [Looking at her anxiously.]\n\nGive her the stick, Nora, or maybe she'll slip on the big stones.\n\nNORA What stick?\n\nCATHLEEN The stick Michael brought from Connemara.\n\nMAURYA [Taking a stick Nora gives her.]\n\nIn the big world the old people do be leaving things after them for\ntheir sons and children, but in this place it is the young men do be\nleaving" ] ]

[ "Who told the sisters their brother may be dead?", "When did Cathleen know Michael was dead?", "Why doesn't Maurya have to worry about the sea anymore?", "What island was Bartley voyaging from in the story?", "What was found on the north-most island?", "How was Maurya's son traveling to his Connemarre?", "When was the ghost seen?", "Why was the widow scolded?", "What occurrence was foretold?", "What does Maurya lose her family to?", "Who is Maurya's brother?", "What is bartley planning to sell?", "What do Nora and Cathleen receive from the dead corpse?", "What happened to bartley ?", "What does Maurya seek in the dark nights after Samhain?", "Who gives Maurya holy water?", "Why does Maurya go after bartley?", "What shore does Michael's corpse wash up on?", "What does maurya predict by nightfall?", "What is Bartley planning to sell in Connemara?", "What is Bartley's relationship to Maurya?", "What is Michael's relationship to Maurya?", "What is Nora's relationship to MIchael?", "What is Cathleen's relationship to Nora?", "What evidence do Cathleen and Nora receive that confirms the death of Michael?", "What does Maurya predict will happen to MIchael and Bartley?", "What does Maurya claim to see riding behind Bartley?", "After the death of Michael and Bartley what entity does Maurya claim can no longer threaten the family?", "What does Maurya ask Nora to fetch from the dresser?" ]

[ [ "the priest", "the priest" ], [ "when she saw the clothes from the corpse", "They received clothing from a drowned corpse, Michael's clothing" ], [ "it has already taken her husband and all her sons", "everyone is dead" ], [ "Inishmaan", "Inishmaan" ], [ "a body", "Her brother" ], [ "sailing", "Sailing" ], [ "when Maurya went after Bartlry", "As Bartley's ship left" ], [ "she wasn't nice to her son before he left", "for sending bartley of with an ill word" ], [ "the death of Bartley", "the death of her sons" ], [ "The sea.", "Sea." ], [ "Michael", "Maurya's brother is Bartley" ], [ "A horse", "a horse" ], [ "Clothing ", "Clothing" ], [ "He fell off his horse and drowned in the sea", "fell of his horse into the sea and died" ], [ "Holy Water", "Holy Water" ], [ "Nora", "Nora" ], [ "To bless his voyage", "to bless his voyage" ], [ "The shore of donegal", "Donegal" ], [ "she will have no living sons", "Her last living son will be dead" ], [ "A horse.", "a horse" ], [ "Bartley is Maurya's son.", "her last living son" ], [ "MIchael is Maurya's son.", "her son" ], [ "Nora is Michael's sister", "Nora is Michael's brother" ], [ "Cathleen is Nora's sister", "sisters" ], [ "Michael's clothing", "clothing" ], [ "Bartley and Michael wil die", "they die" ], [ "The ghost of Michael", "His dead brother. Micheal." ], [ "The sea.", "a ghost" ], [ "Holy water.", "holy water" ] ]

[ [ "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "----\"\n\n\"I did,\" Manning's face showed only an intense effort at reconstructing\nthe scene, \"I was going to stop at my rooms on the way, for something I\nneeded, and----\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Wise said, \"I'm interested in the Case Rivers phase of\nyour existence. Don't forget you're the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\"\n\nA strange smile passed over Manning's face.\n\n\"I'm just coming to that,\" he said; \"I am that man, and I can tell", "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "wear, entirely worthless as clews to what\nwas doubtless an illustrious personality! However, I'm lucky to have\nbreath left in my body, and when I get back my memory, I'll prove that I\nreally did fall through the earth, and I'll find out where I fell in.\"\n\n\"I sincerely hope you will, old chap,\" and I shook hands as I rose to go.\n\"As the play says, 'You interest me strangely!' May I come to see you\nagain?\"\n\n\"I wish you would, Mr.", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "ation on which he based his dream?\"\n\n\"Maybe! There must be! That mind of his is too sure-fire to hang on so\ndesperately to a mere dream. He had some experience of a strange nature,\nand it included something that he looks upon as falling through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But I've a vague idea of a motor accident. Say, a motor\ncar ran into a stone wall, and he was hurled high in the air, and landed\nin the East River----\"\n\n\"But I", "you\nright now, how, where, and why I made the trip!\"\n\nAll eyes were upon him. This strange talk,--and he had been so sensible\nup to now. Was the hallucination of falling through the earth destined to\nmar his newly returned sanity?\n\n\"Go on,\" repeated Zizi, and the calmness of her voice restored Manning's\npoise, and also raised my hopes of a plausible explanation.\n\n\"You were with me, Brice,\" Manning looked at me, as if for corroboration.\n\n\"Yes", "you have won yourself!\" exclaimed Penny Wise.\n\n\"Yes,\" chuckled Zizi, \"and you've won the reward offered for Mr.\nGately's--\" she hesitated,--\"for the man who freed the world of one more\ntraitorous viper!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally,\" I added, \"you've cleared up the puzzle of the man\nwho fell through the earth!\"\n\n\"It is well that Gately is no more,\" Manning said, musingly; \"he was\nespecially dangerous because he was in such a high position and so\n", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "miracle, and only the most desperate efforts fanned that\nlittle spark into resuscitation. The rest you know. The shock, the\nexposure, the cold, and perhaps a blow or two on my head, all combined,\nresulted in a total loss of memory as to my identity or to the events of\nmy former life.\n\n\"I had only remaining the positive recollection of that fall--\" Manning\nshuddered,--\"that interminable, that never-ending fall through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"But you fell through water,\" said Wise,", "matter lightly.\n\n\"No,\" she returned, in all seriousness, \"but he believes he was\ncommissioned to hunt out a valuable paper, of some sort, and while on the\nquest he fell through the earth, by accident. It was the shock of that\nthat impaired his memory.\"\n\n\"Sufficient cause!\" I couldn't help saying.\n\nOlive bristled: \"Oh, I know you don't believe his story,--almost nobody\ndoes,--but I do.\"\n\n\"So do I!\" and Zizi was in the room. One", "own man in every respect except in a knowledge of who or\nwhat I was before that journey through the earth.\"\n\n\"Then,\" I tried plain common sense, \"then, if you can reason, you must\nknow that you didn't fall through the earth. It would be impossible.\"\n\n\"I know that. My reason tells me it's impossible. But all I know about it\nis, that I did do it.\"\n\n\"Through a long hole,--miles long?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Who bored the hole?\"\n\n\"It was there all the time", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then" ], [ "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "mentioned. Or, if you'll give me a letter of\nintroduction----\"\n\n\"Do you know your way around New York?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. I have a feeling I was in New York once,--a long time ago,\nbut I can't say for certain.\"\n\n\"I'll go with you then. I'll call for you tomorrow, and escort you to the\noffice I have in mind, and also, look up a home and fireside that appeals\nto you.\"\n\n\"The sort that appeals to me is out of", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "wear, entirely worthless as clews to what\nwas doubtless an illustrious personality! However, I'm lucky to have\nbreath left in my body, and when I get back my memory, I'll prove that I\nreally did fall through the earth, and I'll find out where I fell in.\"\n\n\"I sincerely hope you will, old chap,\" and I shook hands as I rose to go.\n\"As the play says, 'You interest me strangely!' May I come to see you\nagain?\"\n\n\"I wish you would, Mr.", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "grasped my umbrella\nhandle, pushed my glasses more firmly into place, and strode toward my\nhome.\n\nWith some, home is where the heart is, but, as I was still heart-whole\nand fancy-free, I had no romantic interest to build a home around, and my\nhome was merely two cozy, comfy rooms in the vicinity of Gramercy Park.\n\nAnd at last I reached them, storm-tossed, weary, cold, and hungry, all of\nwhich unpleasant conditions were changed for the better as rapidly as I\ncould", "you have won yourself!\" exclaimed Penny Wise.\n\n\"Yes,\" chuckled Zizi, \"and you've won the reward offered for Mr.\nGately's--\" she hesitated,--\"for the man who freed the world of one more\ntraitorous viper!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally,\" I added, \"you've cleared up the puzzle of the man\nwho fell through the earth!\"\n\n\"It is well that Gately is no more,\" Manning said, musingly; \"he was\nespecially dangerous because he was in such a high position and so\n", "----\"\n\n\"I did,\" Manning's face showed only an intense effort at reconstructing\nthe scene, \"I was going to stop at my rooms on the way, for something I\nneeded, and----\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Wise said, \"I'm interested in the Case Rivers phase of\nyour existence. Don't forget you're the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\"\n\nA strange smile passed over Manning's face.\n\n\"I'm just coming to that,\" he said; \"I am that man, and I can tell", "his home\nis on a magnificent scale, he doesn't entertain very much. I have heard\nthat Miss Raynor pleads in vain for him to be more of a society man.\"\n\n\"She is his ward?\"\n\n\"Yes; no relation, although she calls him uncle. I believe he was a\ncollege chum of Miss Raynor's father, and when the girl was left alone in\nthe world, he took her to live with him, and took charge of her fortune.\"\n\n\"A large one?\"\n\n\"Fairly so, I believe. Enough to tempt", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "the house as\nsoon as I can.\"\n\nThe faithful taxi was waiting, and Rivers and I put the two girls in, and\nfollowed them. Rivers was very quiet and seemed preoccupied. He looked\nnot at all like a conqueror, and I guessed that the fight had stirred\nsome chord of remembrance, and he was now struggling with his lost\nmemory. In silence we went most of the way home.\n\nBefore we reached the house, however, he shook off his reverie with an\nimpatient gesture that said, as clearly as words could have done,", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z" ], [ "-eyed and tearless, looking so\npathetically lonely and so unable to cope with her new responsibilities,\nthat I gladly promised her all possible assistance that I could give,\nboth in legal matters and in any personal or friendly ways.\n\n\"Don't think me helpless,\" she said, reading my thoughts; \"I shall rise\nto the situation, I shall adapt myself to my changed circumstances, but\nit will take a little time, of course.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" I agreed, \"and don't attempt to do too much at first. Take\nplenty of time", "was by no means of a yielding or easily swayed\ndisposition. She deeply resented her guardian's tyrannical treatment of\nher and had not infrequently told him so. While they were not outwardly\nat odds, they were uncongenial natures, and of widely divergent tastes.\n\nOlive, as is natural for a young girl, wanted guests and gayety. Mr.\nGately, a thoroughly selfish man, preferred quiet and freedom from\ncompany. Her insistence met with refusal and the results were often\ndistressing to both of them", ", and I broke my appointment. Sorry, old man, but I had to see\nFriend Doctor, on the jump. Let's go now, in accordance with the Witch's\nwhim, and we'll take the big wagon, and all go.\"\n\nHe often called Zizi the Witch, or the Elf-child, and she liked it from\nhim, though she usually resented any familiarity.\n\nShe smiled at him, but I noted an undercurrent of sadness in her gaze,\nand I knew she was thinking of the evidence of the snow crystal.\n\n", ", miss!\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" and Jenny's saucy face looked serious enough now. \"But it was\nall so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I just\ncan't say what was so and what wasn't!\"\n\n\"That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think the\nmatter over, while I talk to your sister.\"\n\nMinny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. But\nafter all, she had little to tell. She had brought", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "'t. I think he\nnever realized how greatly he was depriving me when he forbade me\nsociety.\"\n\n\"Did it really amount to that?\"\n\n\"Practically. Or, if I succeeded in persuading him to let me have a house\nguest or a small party, he made things so unpleasant that I was glad when\nthey were gone.\"\n\n\"Unpleasant, how?\"\n\n\"Oh, fussing around, as if his comfort were interfered with,--as if he\nwere terribly incommoded by their presence, and", "\nBut the dull silence that fell on us all proved that no one present was\nable to offer any suggestion.\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER XIII\n Olive's Adventure\n\n\n\"Give me a handkerchief, somebody!\" commanded Zizi, and not without\nreason, for her own tiny wisp of cambric was nothing but a wet ball,\nwhich she was futilely dabbing into her big black eyes.\n\nI hurried into my bedroom and hastily grabbed a fresh handkerchief from a\ndrawer, which I brought to the excited girl", "'m sure, why she's staying\nhere, but I like to have her. Well, in about two minutes she had the\nfurniture all changed about. Not the heavy pieces, of course, but she\nmoved a small table and all the chairs, and finally unscrewed an electric\nlight bulb from one place and put it on another, and then, after looking\nall about, she said, 'Just one thing more!' and if she didn't spring up\non to a table with one jump and take down quite a large picture! 'There,'\nshe said, and", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand", "Mr.\nGately's rooms, she could remain in my office with Norah, while we went.\n\nMrs. Vail insisted on being of the party, and ran briskly off to get her\nbonnet.\n\nThe atmosphere seemed peculiarly charged with a feeling of impending\ndisaster, and yet, not one of us would have held back. Pennington Wise\nwas very grave and quiet; Zizi, on the other hand, was as one\nelectrified. She sprang about with quick, darting motions, she giggled\nal", "pery sort. She pretends to speak frankly, but what she tells\nmeans little and is misleading.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"For the moment, down at Kenilworth House. Detained there till they're\nsure of the persons working with her.\"\n\n\"She'll get away,\" said Rivers, \"she ought to be in jail.\"\n\nNow it was a strange thing, but this casual prophecy of Rivers' was\nfulfilled the very next day!\n\nI was in my office, absorbedly conversing with Norah on the\nall", "ise arrived, and we\nall shamelessly ignored Mrs. Vail and her yarns to listen to his report.\n\n\"There's a lot doing,\" he said, \"and,\" he added, gently, \"I'm sorry to\nbring you unpleasant news, Miss Raynor, but you'll have to know sooner or\nlater----\"\n\n\"I do know,\" said Olive, bravely; \"you're going to tell me my guardian\nwas--was not a good man.\"\n\n\"That is so; it is useless to try to", ".\n\nI nodded my obedience, and then Zizi giggled and with her inimitable\nimpudence, she turned to Olive, and said: \"I'm like the White Queen, in\n'Alice,' I haven't pricked my finger yet, but I probably shall, some\nday.\"\n\n\"What were you screaming about, then?\" asked Mrs. Vail, inclined to be\nangry, while Olive looked amused and mystified.\n\n\"Emergency,\" and Zizi grinned at her. \"First aid to the injured,--or", "urged her father, who was quite\nevidently the slave of his resplendent offspring; \"don't be flip; this\nhere's no place for such-like manners.\"\n\n\"You're right, it isn't,\" agreed the Chief, and he glared at Jenny, who\nwas utterly unmoved by his sternness.\n\n\"Well, ain't I behaving pretty?\" and the silly thing giggled archly and\nfolded her hands with an air of mock meekness.\n\nContinued harsh words from the Chief, however, made her", ".\"\n\n\"Your friends, then, aided and abetted you in deceiving your guardian?\"\n\n\"I resent the way you put that, Mr. Hudson,\" Olive looked at him\nhaughtily, \"but I answer, yes. My friends agreed with me that Mr. Gately\nwas unreasonable in his commands and that I was not bound to obey them.\"\n\n\"But you are now freed from his injustice.\"\n\n\"That is a brutal speech and unworthy of any man! My freedom is too\ndearly purchased at such a fearful price!\"\n", "a witch?\"\n\n\"Yes, lady, lady! I _am_ a witch,--a poor little witch girl!\" and Zizi\nlaughed outright at her own little joke.\n\nIf her smile had been charming, her laugh was more so. It was not only of\na silvery trill, but it was infectious, and Mrs. Vail and I laughed in\nsympathy.\n\n\"What are you all laughing at?\" said Olive, reappearing.\n\n\"At me,\" and Zizi spoke humbly now; \"I made 'em laugh. Sorry", "to her, he said:\n\n\"Is that man forcing you to say that against your will?\"\n\nRodman's grip tightened on Olive's arm, and his glowering face looked\nsternly into hers. She made no reply in words, but her piteous glance\ntold all too clearly that Rivers' assumption was correct.\n\nAnd yet, what could we do? Olive had assented to Rodman's assertion, and\nwe could scarcely demand a girl from her fiancé.\n\nZizi mastered the situation by saying", "'s black eyes narrowed as she looked keenly at\nthe other.\n\nBut the woman was not to be trapped. She glanced at us each in turn, and\nseemed to conclude we were not friendly visitors for all Zizi's pretense.\n\n\"I know nothing of any arrest,\" she said, evenly; \"I think you have\nmistaken the house.\"\n\n\"I think not,\" and Penny Wise looked at her sternly. \"Your bluff won't\ngo, madam,--Sadie, 'The Link,' is arrested, and the", "For though Zizi liked Rivers a lot, and though she really had faith in\nhis innocence of wrongdoing, yet her whole fealty was to Pennington Wise,\nand her hunch about the snowflake drawing might lead to disastrous\nresults in more ways than one.\n\nOlive shrank from going to her guardian's office,--she had never been\nthere since the tragedy,--but a few whispered words from Zizi persuaded\nher to agree to accompany us.\n\nAnd to help matters, I told her that if she preferred not to go into" ], [ "you have won yourself!\" exclaimed Penny Wise.\n\n\"Yes,\" chuckled Zizi, \"and you've won the reward offered for Mr.\nGately's--\" she hesitated,--\"for the man who freed the world of one more\ntraitorous viper!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally,\" I added, \"you've cleared up the puzzle of the man\nwho fell through the earth!\"\n\n\"It is well that Gately is no more,\" Manning said, musingly; \"he was\nespecially dangerous because he was in such a high position and so\n", "for Heaven's sake, let's get\nout!\"\n\n\"Yes, in a minute, but let me think what you ought to do. And, oh, do let\nme take a minute to look round!\"\n\n\"No, girl; this is no time to satisfy your curiosity or, to enjoy a sight\nof these----\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mean that! But I want to see if there isn't some clew or\nsome bit of evidence to the whole thing. It is too weird! too impossible\nthat three people should have disappeared into nothingness! Where", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "'ve been nearly crazy!\"\n\nI think we all felt a sudden twinge of shame, for none of us had thought\nto relieve the poor lady's suspense as to Olive's fate! We ought to have\ntelephoned, at least. But she was now smiling and happy at the safe\nreturn of her charge and eager to know all the details of the adventure.\n\nBoth Olive and Zizi went off with Mrs. Vail, who was chattering volubly,\nand I was left alone with Rivers.\n\n\"The fight,--on which let me", "wear, entirely worthless as clews to what\nwas doubtless an illustrious personality! However, I'm lucky to have\nbreath left in my body, and when I get back my memory, I'll prove that I\nreally did fall through the earth, and I'll find out where I fell in.\"\n\n\"I sincerely hope you will, old chap,\" and I shook hands as I rose to go.\n\"As the play says, 'You interest me strangely!' May I come to see you\nagain?\"\n\n\"I wish you would, Mr.", "\n\"Now,\" said Hudson, his brow furrowed, \"to see where else this bloomin'\nrogue trap lets 'em off! There's somethin' mighty queer goin' on that we\nain't caught on to yet!\"\n\nHe carefully closed the door, readjusted the map, and making sure we had\nleft no traces of our visit, he motioned me out and we went away.\n\nHe asked me to return to my office, and promised to see me there later.\n\nWhen he returned, he told me that he had visited every other", "-engrossing subject of the Gately case, when Zizi dashed in.\n\n\"Alone I did it!\" she exclaimed, and tossing the folds of her voluminous\nblack cape over her shoulder, she folded her arms and assumed the\nattitude of Napoleon; scowling from under her heavy black brows, though\nher eyes were dancing.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I asked, while Norah gazed enchanted at the\ndramatic little figure.\n\n\"Returned the missing 'Link' to her rightful owners!\"\n\n\"What!", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "Man Who Fell Through the Earth also left some indicative clews. Let's\nlook round.\"\n\n\"He couldn't leave anything more indicative than the drawing on the\nblotter,\" persisted Zizi. \"He drew on Mr. Brice's blotter today and he\ndrew on this blotter of Mr. Gately's the day Mr. Gately was killed. That\nmuch is certain.\"\n\n\"So it is, Zizi,\" agreed Wise; \"but nothing further is certain as yet.\nBut we may find something more.\"\n", ". All right, my boy, go\nahead.\"\n\nAnd then the same stillness that was on the rest of us fell on him, too,\nand we entered the rooms in silence.\n\nI went first, through Jenny's room, on to the middle room, and paused\njust beyond the desk.\n\nRivers was next, but Zizi pushed her lithe little body through the group,\nand came through the door just ahead of him.\n\nRivers entered with the strangest look I have ever seen on any human\nface. It was a transition,--not sudden but", ".\"\n\n\"They left room number three, as you entered number one,\" said Norah,\ncarefully thinking it out.\n\n\"That must be so, but where did they go? Why, if Mr. Gately went\ndownstairs, has he not been visible since? I can't help feeling that Amos\nGately is unable to move, for some reason or other. May he have been\nkidnaped? Or is he bound and gagged in some unused room, say on the floor\nbelow this?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Talcott, briefly. \"Without", "which I had entered. I looked into three or four\ncupboards, but they were full of books and papers, and no sign of a\nhidden human being, alive or dead, could I find.\n\nPerhaps the strangeness of it all blunted my efficiency. I had always\nflattered myself that I was at my best in an emergency, but all previous\nemergencies in which I had found myself were trivial and unimportant\ncompared with this.\n\nI felt as if I had been at a moving picture show. I had seen, as on the\nscreen, a man shot, perhaps", "I was about! That I didn't!\"\n\n\"And yet,\" Norah remarked, quietly, \"after you went downstairs and these\ngentlemen found you in the lunchroom, you were perfectly calm and\ncollected----\"\n\n\"Nothing of the sort!\" blazed back Jenny; \"I'm all on edge! My nerves are\ncompletely unstrung!\"\n\n\"Quite so,\" said Mr. Talcott, kindly, \"and I suggest that you go back to\nthe lunchroom, Miss Jenny, and rest and calm yourself. But please remain\nthere, until", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "added, because, I noticed,\nof an almost imperceptible nod from Wise in the elder lady's direction.\n\"We just simpully can't get along without you.\"\n\nPleased at the flattering necessity for her presence, Mrs. Vail went from\nthe room with the two girls. \"I'll be back,\" she called out to us, as she\nleft the room.\n\n\n\"She won't,\" said Wise, decidedly, after the sound of footsteps died\naway, \"Zizi'll look out for that. Now, Brice", "had grappled, where a pistol had been fired,\nand moreover, where a woman had screamed. Where were these people?\n\nIn the next room, of course, I reasoned.\n\nWith eager curiosity, I went on into the third room. It was empty.\n\nAnd that was all the rooms of the suite.\n\nWhere were the people I had seen and heard? That is, I had seen their\nshadows on the glass door, and human shadows cannot appear without people\nto cast them. Where were the men who had fought? Where was the woman who\nhad screamed? And", "Rodman, however, was pulling himself together and we were of one mind as\nto our next procedure, which was to get Olive Raynor away from that\nhouse.\n\n\"Beat it,\" Wise decreed; \"you're a good one, Mr. Rivers! My hat's off to\nyou. Now, if you're fit, and you look it, will you and Mr. Brice take\nMiss Raynor home, and I'll stay here and clear up this little\ndisturbance. Hop along with them, Ziz; I'll join you all at" ], [ ", and I broke my appointment. Sorry, old man, but I had to see\nFriend Doctor, on the jump. Let's go now, in accordance with the Witch's\nwhim, and we'll take the big wagon, and all go.\"\n\nHe often called Zizi the Witch, or the Elf-child, and she liked it from\nhim, though she usually resented any familiarity.\n\nShe smiled at him, but I noted an undercurrent of sadness in her gaze,\nand I knew she was thinking of the evidence of the snow crystal.\n\n", ", but that black squall was so sudden and\nterrific, no one could see or know anything for the time being.\n\n\"However, I knew perfectly well, as I fell in, what had happened, but\nthen,--and I remember this, too,--I fell and fell,--down, down,--it\nseemed for miles; I was whirled dizzily about,--but still I fell--on and\non,--interminably. I felt my consciousness going,--at first, abnormally\nacute, my senses became dulled, and I had", "dazed was my intelligence.\n\nAnd then, they assumed their individuality and I saw that Olive's lovely\ncountenance was a complete blank; like me, she failed to grasp the full\nmeaning of Rivers' confession.\n\nMrs. Vail, her eyes closed, lay back limply in a chair, and groaned\naudibly, while Norah buried her face in a nearby silken curtain and\nsobbed.\n\nPennington Wise looked like a man who has just heard the worst,--but who\nexpected it. However, the shock had", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "by demanding my time and\nattention for himself, instead of allowing me to entertain my guests\nproperly.\"\n\n\"Doubtless so you wouldn't do it again.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. But all that was uncomfortable for me,--almost\nunbearable,--yet one doesn't kill one's people for such things.\"\n\nTo me this simple statement of Olive Raynor's was more convincing than a\nstorm of denial. She had stormed, with indignation, at the hint of\nsuspicion, but her quiet", "was Jenny Boyd.\n\nAnd that sums up the whole of my intimate knowledge of Amos Gately--until\nthe day of the black snow squall!\n\nI daresay my prehistoric ancestors were sun-worshipers. At any rate, I am\nperfectly happy when the sun shines, and utterly miserable on a gloomy\nday. Of course, after sunset, I don't care, but days when artificial\nlight must be used, I get fidgety and am positively unable to concentrate\non any important line of thought.\n\nAnd so,", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "'t. I think he\nnever realized how greatly he was depriving me when he forbade me\nsociety.\"\n\n\"Did it really amount to that?\"\n\n\"Practically. Or, if I succeeded in persuading him to let me have a house\nguest or a small party, he made things so unpleasant that I was glad when\nthey were gone.\"\n\n\"Unpleasant, how?\"\n\n\"Oh, fussing around, as if his comfort were interfered with,--as if he\nwere terribly incommoded by their presence, and", "as\nfrom a soul in mortal agony,--and said:\n\n\"I killed Amos Gately!\"\n\nI think the scene that followed this announcement was the strangest I\nhave ever experienced. For myself, I felt a sudden sinking, as if the\nbottom had fallen out of the universe. In fact, a whimsical idea flashed\nthrough my stunned brain that I was \"falling through the earth,\"--or into\na bottomless pit.\n\nThe white faces that I looked at meant nothing to me,--I saw them as in a\ndream, so", ", miss!\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" and Jenny's saucy face looked serious enough now. \"But it was\nall so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I just\ncan't say what was so and what wasn't!\"\n\n\"That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think the\nmatter over, while I talk to your sister.\"\n\nMinny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. But\nafter all, she had little to tell. She had brought", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "tried to help matters by saying, hastily, \"Perhaps it was a plant!\nPerhaps this card was put where it was found by some sly scoundrel for\nthe purpose of misleading----\"\n\n\"Don't!\" said Olive, faintly; \"you are kind, Mr. Wise, but you are saying\nthat merely to give me a ray of comfort and hope. You know better. You\nbelieve,--and I fear I must believe,--my guardian was involved in some\nwrong, some grave wrong--and----\"\n\nShe broke down utterly", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "it!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally he's Amos Gately's----\"\n\nA scream of agony from Zizi interrupted my speech, and jumping to her\nfeet she danced round the room, her forefinger thrust between her red\nlips, and her little, eerie face contorted as with pain.\n\n\"Oh, what is it, Zizi?\" cried Olive, running to the frantic girl.\n\nMrs. Vail, hearing the turmoil, came running in, and she and Olive held\nZizi between them, begging", "ender finger pointed only to the snow crystal that Rivers had\ndrawn. It was a graceful figure, not quite finished, but a delicate\ntracery of one of the myriad forms that snow crystals show. How often I\nhad looked at the lovely things as they rested for a moment on my dark\ncoat sleeve when I was out in a snowstorm. And after seeing Rivers draw\nthem so skilfully, several times, they had taken on a new interest to me.\nBut what had so moved Zizi I could not imagine. It was as if the little\ndrawing were", "Rivers took out a pocket-book, from which he extracted some\nflimsy paper. These proved to be tracings of snow crystals similar to\nthose I had seen him drawing while he was still in the hospital.\n\n\"How lovely!\" Zizi exclaimed, as she took the traced patterns. \"You see,\"\nand she showed them to Wise, \"Miss Olive is making lace work,--and Mr.\nRivers makes her these patterns. Aren't they exquisite?\"\n\nThey were. They were forms of snow crystals, than which there is", "miracle, and only the most desperate efforts fanned that\nlittle spark into resuscitation. The rest you know. The shock, the\nexposure, the cold, and perhaps a blow or two on my head, all combined,\nresulted in a total loss of memory as to my identity or to the events of\nmy former life.\n\n\"I had only remaining the positive recollection of that fall--\" Manning\nshuddered,--\"that interminable, that never-ending fall through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"But you fell through water,\" said Wise,", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand", "I trembled for Rivers'\nsafety. Rodman was a formidable antagonist, and far heavier than the\ngaunt man who met and returned his blows.\n\nBut Rivers was skilled, and made up in technique what he lacked in\nstrength.\n\nSo desperate was the struggle, so blindly furious the two men, that\nPennington Wise and I were fearful of results. With a simultaneous\nimpulse we made a dash to separate the combatants, but were obliged to\nget back quickly to save ourselves from the rain of blows" ], [ "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "wear, entirely worthless as clews to what\nwas doubtless an illustrious personality! However, I'm lucky to have\nbreath left in my body, and when I get back my memory, I'll prove that I\nreally did fall through the earth, and I'll find out where I fell in.\"\n\n\"I sincerely hope you will, old chap,\" and I shook hands as I rose to go.\n\"As the play says, 'You interest me strangely!' May I come to see you\nagain?\"\n\n\"I wish you would, Mr.", "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "----\"\n\n\"I did,\" Manning's face showed only an intense effort at reconstructing\nthe scene, \"I was going to stop at my rooms on the way, for something I\nneeded, and----\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Wise said, \"I'm interested in the Case Rivers phase of\nyour existence. Don't forget you're the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\"\n\nA strange smile passed over Manning's face.\n\n\"I'm just coming to that,\" he said; \"I am that man, and I can tell", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "miracle, and only the most desperate efforts fanned that\nlittle spark into resuscitation. The rest you know. The shock, the\nexposure, the cold, and perhaps a blow or two on my head, all combined,\nresulted in a total loss of memory as to my identity or to the events of\nmy former life.\n\n\"I had only remaining the positive recollection of that fall--\" Manning\nshuddered,--\"that interminable, that never-ending fall through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"But you fell through water,\" said Wise,", "ation on which he based his dream?\"\n\n\"Maybe! There must be! That mind of his is too sure-fire to hang on so\ndesperately to a mere dream. He had some experience of a strange nature,\nand it included something that he looks upon as falling through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But I've a vague idea of a motor accident. Say, a motor\ncar ran into a stone wall, and he was hurled high in the air, and landed\nin the East River----\"\n\n\"But I", "matter lightly.\n\n\"No,\" she returned, in all seriousness, \"but he believes he was\ncommissioned to hunt out a valuable paper, of some sort, and while on the\nquest he fell through the earth, by accident. It was the shock of that\nthat impaired his memory.\"\n\n\"Sufficient cause!\" I couldn't help saying.\n\nOlive bristled: \"Oh, I know you don't believe his story,--almost nobody\ndoes,--but I do.\"\n\n\"So do I!\" and Zizi was in the room. One", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "own man in every respect except in a knowledge of who or\nwhat I was before that journey through the earth.\"\n\n\"Then,\" I tried plain common sense, \"then, if you can reason, you must\nknow that you didn't fall through the earth. It would be impossible.\"\n\n\"I know that. My reason tells me it's impossible. But all I know about it\nis, that I did do it.\"\n\n\"Through a long hole,--miles long?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Who bored the hole?\"\n\n\"It was there all the time", "\npositively, so I'll warn you beforehand not to chuckle at me, for I won't\nstand it!\"\n\nRivers showed a determination that I liked. It proved that I was right in\nascribing a strong character to him. He would stand chaffing as well as\nanyone I knew, but not on the subject of his fall through the earth.\n\n\"I don't know when or where I started on my memorable journey, but I\ndistinctly remember my long, dark fall straight down through the earth.\nNow it would seem impossible, but", "you\nright now, how, where, and why I made the trip!\"\n\nAll eyes were upon him. This strange talk,--and he had been so sensible\nup to now. Was the hallucination of falling through the earth destined to\nmar his newly returned sanity?\n\n\"Go on,\" repeated Zizi, and the calmness of her voice restored Manning's\npoise, and also raised my hopes of a plausible explanation.\n\n\"You were with me, Brice,\" Manning looked at me, as if for corroboration.\n\n\"Yes", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but" ], [ "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "worthwhile individuality for himself yet.\n\nNorah, too, admired him, and seemed to know as much of his capabilities,\nor more, than I did myself.\n\n\"I don't know just what sort of work, but I think it's connected with the\nmysteries we're up against ourselves. And I know about him, because Zizi\ntold me. She sees everything he does,--when she's with him, I mean. Not a\ngesture or motion escapes her notice. And she's watching his attitude\ntoward Miss", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "'s discretion, and I was pretty positive he'd find out\nsomething,--if there were anything worth finding out.\n\nAnd there was!\n\n\nRodman, by good luck, was out and his offices locked. Hudson gently\npersuaded the locks to let go their grip, and, for he let me go with him,\nwe went in.\n\nThe first thing that hit me in the eyes, was a big war map on the wall.\nMoreover, though not a duplicate of Mr. Gately's map, it was similar, and\nit hung in a", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "something to tell, and she meant to have it told.\n\n\"I don't know, Miss Raynor,\" Talcott began, \"whether anything has\nhappened, or not. I mean, anything serious. We--that is,--we don't know\nwhere Mr. Gately is.\"\n\n\"Go on. That of itself doesn't explain your anxious faces.\"\n\nSo Talcott told her,--told her just what we knew ourselves, which was so\nlittle and yet so mysterious.\n\nOlive listened, her great, dark eyes widening with wonder", "house. Anyways,\nthat's what he done,--a long time ago. I had to know of it, of\ncourse,----\"\n\n\"Of course, as superintendent of the Matteawan.\"\n\n\"That's what they call it now, but I like better to be called janitor. As\njanitor I began, and as janitor I'll work to the end. Well, Mr. Gately,\nhe went up and down in the little car whenever he chose, and no one\nnoticed him at all. It wasn't, after all", "would rather be told\nabruptly, like that, than to have me mince matters.\n\nAnd I was right, for she said, quickly, \"Tell it all,--any knowledge is\nbetter than suspense.\"\n\nSo I told her, as gently as I could, of our discovery of the body of Amos\nGately in his private elevator, at the bottom of the shaft.\n\n\"But I don't understand,\" said Manning. \"Shot through the heart and alone\nin the elevator?\"\n\n\"That's the way it is. I've no", "\n\n\"Perhaps. Could you recognize the head of the visitor if you should see\nit again shadowed on the door?\"\n\n\"I am not sure, but I doubt if I could. I could tell if it were a very\ndifferent type of head, but if merely similar, I could not swear it was\nthe same man.\"\n\n\"H'm. We must make the experiment. At least it may give us a hint in the\nright direction.\"\n\nHe questioned me further as to my knowledge of Mr. Gately and his\naffairs, but when he found I knew almost", "I\nfirst saw the shadows until the moment when I went down in the elevator\nand met Mr. Pitt.\n\nHe listened with deepest attention, and then, seemingly unimpressed by my\nstory, began to question Jenny.\n\nThis volatile young lady had regained her mental balance, and was more\nthan ready to dilate upon her experiences.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" she said, \"I was sitting at my desk, and nobody had come in\nfor an hour or so, when, all of a sudden, I heard talking in Mr. Gately's\nroom.\"\n\n\"", "Amos Gately, as I had so\noften seen it pictured. The other was merely a human shadow with no\nstriking characteristics.\n\nIt was evident their interview was not amicable. I heard a loud,\nexplosive \"No!\" from one or other of them, and then both figures rose and\nthere was a hand-to-hand struggle. Their voices indicated a desperate\nquarrel, though no words were distinguishable.\n\nAnd then, as I looked, the shadows blurred into one\nanother,--swayed,--separated, and then", "dazed was my intelligence.\n\nAnd then, they assumed their individuality and I saw that Olive's lovely\ncountenance was a complete blank; like me, she failed to grasp the full\nmeaning of Rivers' confession.\n\nMrs. Vail, her eyes closed, lay back limply in a chair, and groaned\naudibly, while Norah buried her face in a nearby silken curtain and\nsobbed.\n\nPennington Wise looked like a man who has just heard the worst,--but who\nexpected it. However, the shock had", "\"Mr. Gately had no enemies, I am sure he\nhadn't! Of course, he may have kept parts of his life or his affairs\nsecret from me, but I have lived with him too long and too familiarly not\nto know him thoroughly. He was of a simple, straightforward nature, and a\nwise and noble gentleman.\"\n\n\"Yet you were not entirely fond of your uncle,\" insinuated the Chief.\n\n\"He was not my uncle,\" returned Olive, calmly. \"I called him that but he\nwas no relation to me. He used to", "-engrossing subject of the Gately case, when Zizi dashed in.\n\n\"Alone I did it!\" she exclaimed, and tossing the folds of her voluminous\nblack cape over her shoulder, she folded her arms and assumed the\nattitude of Napoleon; scowling from under her heavy black brows, though\nher eyes were dancing.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I asked, while Norah gazed enchanted at the\ndramatic little figure.\n\n\"Returned the missing 'Link' to her rightful owners!\"\n\n\"What!", "be\nthe right one.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" Wise assented, \"there may be other explanations and more\ncomplicated ones. But it doesn't matter now. The receipt of these\nletters,--blank letters,--was of secret value to Gately, and proves him\nto have been pretty deeply mixed up in it all.\"\n\n\"But what about Mr. Rivers?\" spoke up Zizi; \"where does he come in?\"\n\n\"It looks black,\" Wise declared. \"He was here that day secretly. That is,\nhe didn't come", "me, in that case, he would\nhave been sought and found by the people who had him in charge.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's the point of it all! They don't want to find him! They know\njust where he is, and all about him, but they won't tell, for it suits\ntheir base purposes to have him lost!\"\n\n\"Well, you _have_ cooked up a scheme! And he killed Amos Gately?\"\n\n\"Maybe, but if so, he did it unknowingly. Perhaps these people who are\nlooking after him, secret", "in his speech. Until this moment Rivers had\nspoken in the peculiar tones I had noticed the first time I met him.\nMonotonous tones, almost devoid of inflection. Now, his voice was normal,\nand even more melodious than the average.\n\nSurely, the man had found himself, but if he was really Amory\nManning,--well, my mind refused to go further.\n\nAnd he had also said that he killed Amos Gately!\n\nBut I felt no need of asking questions, or even of wondering, for the man\nbefore us looked" ], [ "\n\nIt acted like magic, and the woman's face changed to an expression of\nwelcome and serious anxiety, as we all went in.\n\nIt was rather a pretentious apartment, with fine furnishings in ornate\ntaste. We saw no one save the woman who admitted us, and heard no sound\nfrom other rooms.\n\n\"You expected it?\" and Zizi's air of secret understanding was perfect.\n\n\"Expected what?\" said Mrs. Kent, sharply, for she was apparently on her\nguard.\n\n\"Sadie's arrest,\" and Zizi", "\"with an awful threat! I can't\nthink about it! Oh, I don't know what to do! I can't tell it--I can't\ntell it to anybody----\"\n\n\"Wait till you get home,\" I counseled her, and Rivers added, \"And wait\ntill Mr. Wise comes. He's the man you must tell, and he will advise you.\nBut, I say, we're getting at things, eh, Brice? 'The Link' under arrest,\nWise onto Rodman, and he won't", "of the law works swiftly when it wills to do\nso. Within half an hour Sadie Kent was arrested at her key in the\ntelegraph office on charge of stealing confidential telegrams sent by\nofficials in Washington to munition plants and steamship companies and\ndelivering them to persons who she knew would transmit them to the German\nForeign Office.\n\nWhen approached, the girl,--the woman rather,--put up a bold bluff, but\nit was of no avail. She was taken into custody, and all her appeals for\nmercy denied. All", ", triumphantly: \"We've got 'The\nLink!' She's under arrest!\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Olive, and then, dropping her arm, Rodman whirled toward\nher:\n\n\"There!\" he cried, \"your secret is out! Unless----\" He made a gesture as\nif to put his arm round her.\n\nWith a cry of revulsion, Olive shrank from him, and her face showed that\nshe preferred his threatening attitude to his endearing one.\n\n\"You let that lady alone, unless she desires your attentions,\" said\n", "work, you mean?\"\n\n\"Yes; she's in the company's office,----\" Here Jenny whispered the\naddress to Wise.\n\n\"Good girl,\" he commented. \"Keep it dark. No use in telling all these\npeople!\"\n\nHe turned to my telephone, then said: \"No, Brice, you do it. Call\nHeadquarters and tell the Chief to arrest,--what's her name, Jenny?\"\n\n\"I--I didn't say, sir.\" The girl's caution was returning.\n\n\"Say now, then,\" commanded W", ".\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" laughed Rivers, \"I've been trying to connect up with\nthe missing Manning myself, but I can't work it. So, I'm out for the\nreward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he's gone beyond\nrecall.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Wise put in, \"I've found out who offers the reward. And, if\nyou please, it's none other than the United States Government!\"\n\n\"Why?\" Rivers asked, interestedly.\n\n\"Well, it seems M", "'s black eyes narrowed as she looked keenly at\nthe other.\n\nBut the woman was not to be trapped. She glanced at us each in turn, and\nseemed to conclude we were not friendly visitors for all Zizi's pretense.\n\n\"I know nothing of any arrest,\" she said, evenly; \"I think you have\nmistaken the house.\"\n\n\"I think not,\" and Penny Wise looked at her sternly. \"Your bluff won't\ngo, madam,--Sadie, 'The Link,' is arrested, and the", "\n\"Now,\" said Hudson, his brow furrowed, \"to see where else this bloomin'\nrogue trap lets 'em off! There's somethin' mighty queer goin' on that we\nain't caught on to yet!\"\n\nHe carefully closed the door, readjusted the map, and making sure we had\nleft no traces of our visit, he motioned me out and we went away.\n\nHe asked me to return to my office, and promised to see me there later.\n\nWhen he returned, he told me that he had visited every other", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", ", as he gave an anxious glance at Jenny, \"I\nthink it well to take this young woman along, as she is the secretary of\nMr. Gately and may know----\"\n\n\"Oh, no, sir,\" cried Jenny, \"I don't know anything! Please don't ask me\nquestions!\"\n\nJenny's perturbation seemed to make Mr. Pitt's intentions more definite,\nand he corralled the young woman, as he also swept me along.\n\nIn a moment, we were all going into the offices of the Puritan Trust\nCompany", "not to go out of town without acquainting us of the fact.\nWe do not accuse you, but we do want you where we can communicate with\nyou at will. I am going now Miss Raynor. I came only to make sure on a\nfew points,--which I have done,--and to tell you to remain within call.\nIndeed, I may as well tell you that any attempt to get away will be\nfrustrated.\"\n\n\"You mean I am under surveillance!\"\n\n\"That's about it, miss.\"\n\nOlive looked at him as one", "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "pery sort. She pretends to speak frankly, but what she tells\nmeans little and is misleading.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"For the moment, down at Kenilworth House. Detained there till they're\nsure of the persons working with her.\"\n\n\"She'll get away,\" said Rivers, \"she ought to be in jail.\"\n\nNow it was a strange thing, but this casual prophecy of Rivers' was\nfulfilled the very next day!\n\nI was in my office, absorbedly conversing with Norah on the\nall", "said:\n\n\"Why don't you arrest Rodman, then?\"\n\n\"Not enough definite evidence. I'm just about sure that he killed Gately,\nand I think I know why, but I can't prove it,--yet. Your statement that\nhis head shadowed on that glass door was the same head you saw the day of\nthe murder, is our strongest point----\"\n\n\"Oh, I didn't say that!\" I cried, aghast; \"I do say it looked like the\nsame head, but I wouldn't swear that it was", "met with a serious accident,--slipped and broken his leg or\nsomething of that sort. But in such a case, he would have been taken to a\nhospital, and I should have heard of it. No, Mr. Brice, he was carried\noff by some powerful enemy. I say powerful, meaning rather, clever or\ndiplomatic, for as I see it, trickery would have been used, not force, to\nabduct Amory Manning.\"\n\n\"But why abduct him?\" I cried in amazement \"What is he? Why is he a\nmenace?\"", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "yet, I longed for further news of the proceedings. So, I concluded to\nlook in at the Matteawan, and if that led me into the clutches of the\npolice inquisitors, I must submit. But, if I could get away before their\narrival, I should do so. I was quite willing to be called upon by them,\nand to tell all I knew, but I wanted to postpone that until the next day,\nif possible.\n\nNot wishing to obtrude my presence further on Miss Raynor, I went down in\nan", "eline ferocity, and is under strong and careful\nrestrictions.\"\n\n\"And she is the one,\" I said, \"whose identity we learned from\nJenny--and,--oh, yes, whose identity you guessed, Mr. Wise, from some\ncigarette stubs, and----\"\n\n\"Oh, I say,\" Wise interrupted me, shortly, \"we must get the truth from\nher by quizzing, not by clews. We've arrested her, now, and----\"\n\nOlive stirred uneasily, and Zizi, after", "into custody by Hudson's men.\n\n\"Did she go quietly?\" asked Penny Wise.\n\n\"She did not!\" I returned; \"she put up a fearful fight, tore up a lot of\npapers from a desk drawer, and lit into the policemen like a tiger cat!\nShe tried to bite Hudson, and yet, he was the one who kind-heartedly let\nher telephone to her mother.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Rivers, \"he let her do that!\"\n\n\"I did it myself, really,\" I said; and I told how Sadie", ", there will yet be trouble from it. Has it\nbeen found, do you know, Mr. Wise?\"\n\n\"No; what sort of a paper?\"\n\n\"One of the stolen telegrams. It was concealed, I had reason to think,\nsomewhere in Gately's desk----\"\n\n\"Do you know that?\"\n\n\"I think so--wait,--I had just thought I knew where to look for it, when\nGately said something that made me telephone for assistance in his\narrest. I was waiting for an answer to my call----\"" ], [ "\n\"Now,\" said Hudson, his brow furrowed, \"to see where else this bloomin'\nrogue trap lets 'em off! There's somethin' mighty queer goin' on that we\nain't caught on to yet!\"\n\nHe carefully closed the door, readjusted the map, and making sure we had\nleft no traces of our visit, he motioned me out and we went away.\n\nHe asked me to return to my office, and promised to see me there later.\n\nWhen he returned, he told me that he had visited every other", "\n\nIt acted like magic, and the woman's face changed to an expression of\nwelcome and serious anxiety, as we all went in.\n\nIt was rather a pretentious apartment, with fine furnishings in ornate\ntaste. We saw no one save the woman who admitted us, and heard no sound\nfrom other rooms.\n\n\"You expected it?\" and Zizi's air of secret understanding was perfect.\n\n\"Expected what?\" said Mrs. Kent, sharply, for she was apparently on her\nguard.\n\n\"Sadie's arrest,\" and Zizi", "\"with an awful threat! I can't\nthink about it! Oh, I don't know what to do! I can't tell it--I can't\ntell it to anybody----\"\n\n\"Wait till you get home,\" I counseled her, and Rivers added, \"And wait\ntill Mr. Wise comes. He's the man you must tell, and he will advise you.\nBut, I say, we're getting at things, eh, Brice? 'The Link' under arrest,\nWise onto Rodman, and he won't", ".\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" laughed Rivers, \"I've been trying to connect up with\nthe missing Manning myself, but I can't work it. So, I'm out for the\nreward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he's gone beyond\nrecall.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Wise put in, \"I've found out who offers the reward. And, if\nyou please, it's none other than the United States Government!\"\n\n\"Why?\" Rivers asked, interestedly.\n\n\"Well, it seems M", "pery sort. She pretends to speak frankly, but what she tells\nmeans little and is misleading.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"For the moment, down at Kenilworth House. Detained there till they're\nsure of the persons working with her.\"\n\n\"She'll get away,\" said Rivers, \"she ought to be in jail.\"\n\nNow it was a strange thing, but this casual prophecy of Rivers' was\nfulfilled the very next day!\n\nI was in my office, absorbedly conversing with Norah on the\nall", "'s black eyes narrowed as she looked keenly at\nthe other.\n\nBut the woman was not to be trapped. She glanced at us each in turn, and\nseemed to conclude we were not friendly visitors for all Zizi's pretense.\n\n\"I know nothing of any arrest,\" she said, evenly; \"I think you have\nmistaken the house.\"\n\n\"I think not,\" and Penny Wise looked at her sternly. \"Your bluff won't\ngo, madam,--Sadie, 'The Link,' is arrested, and the", "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "e. \"All right,\" he cried, joyfully; \"this is the paper, a Government\nsecret! See, you read it by that carriage-call check, and it's safe now!\"\n\nIt was a paper filled with rows of letters, such a paper as had been\nfound in Sadie's possession and also in Rodman's.\n\n\"Now, I am satisfied,\" Manning declared; \"and now I must go straight down\nto the Federal Bureau. But first----\"\n\n\"Sure!\" said Zizi, reading his thoughts; \"we're excused!\"\n", "down faster by the stairs. But\nafter running down two flights, I saw a waiting elevator and got in. I\nhad dropped my pistol somewhere when trying to stuff it into my overcoat\npocket as I ran downstairs. But I gave no thought to anything save\npreventing the escape of my prisoner. Of course, I didn't then know how\nseriously he was hurt.\n\n\"I failed to find the exit from the private elevator, and never dreaming\nit was in the building next door, I hunted this building for quite a\ntime. I investigated the ground floor, the basement", "that he\nhad failed to catch the elusive thread that bound him to the past and\nthat he had returned to the present.\n\nOlive saw it, too, and putting out her hand, said, frankly:\n\n\"I owe you deep gratitude, Mr. Rivers. I suppose I was in no real danger,\nwith you men there, but I must confess I was glad to have that wretch\npunished.\"\n\nHer lovely face glowed with righteous indignation, and Zizi's pert little\ncountenance showed deep satisfaction.\n\n\"You gave it", "of the law works swiftly when it wills to do\nso. Within half an hour Sadie Kent was arrested at her key in the\ntelegraph office on charge of stealing confidential telegrams sent by\nofficials in Washington to munition plants and steamship companies and\ndelivering them to persons who she knew would transmit them to the German\nForeign Office.\n\nWhen approached, the girl,--the woman rather,--put up a bold bluff, but\nit was of no avail. She was taken into custody, and all her appeals for\nmercy denied. All", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "into custody by Hudson's men.\n\n\"Did she go quietly?\" asked Penny Wise.\n\n\"She did not!\" I returned; \"she put up a fearful fight, tore up a lot of\npapers from a desk drawer, and lit into the policemen like a tiger cat!\nShe tried to bite Hudson, and yet, he was the one who kind-heartedly let\nher telephone to her mother.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Rivers, \"he let her do that!\"\n\n\"I did it myself, really,\" I said; and I told how Sadie", "yet, I longed for further news of the proceedings. So, I concluded to\nlook in at the Matteawan, and if that led me into the clutches of the\npolice inquisitors, I must submit. But, if I could get away before their\narrival, I should do so. I was quite willing to be called upon by them,\nand to tell all I knew, but I wanted to postpone that until the next day,\nif possible.\n\nNot wishing to obtrude my presence further on Miss Raynor, I went down in\nan", "He hasn't anything to do with that spy matter!\"\n\n\"Why!\" I exclaimed; \"you said he was the murderer!\"\n\n\"Well, I'd rather be a murderer than a spy!\" Her eyes snapped and her\nwhole thin little body quivered with indignation. \"A murder is a decent\ncrime compared to spy work! Oh, my nice Mr. Rivers!\"\n\nShe broke down and cried convulsively.\n\n\"Let her alone,\" said Wise, not unkindly, after a brief glance at the\nshaking little figure. \"", "met with a serious accident,--slipped and broken his leg or\nsomething of that sort. But in such a case, he would have been taken to a\nhospital, and I should have heard of it. No, Mr. Brice, he was carried\noff by some powerful enemy. I say powerful, meaning rather, clever or\ndiplomatic, for as I see it, trickery would have been used, not force, to\nabduct Amory Manning.\"\n\n\"But why abduct him?\" I cried in amazement \"What is he? Why is he a\nmenace?\"", ", triumphantly: \"We've got 'The\nLink!' She's under arrest!\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Olive, and then, dropping her arm, Rodman whirled toward\nher:\n\n\"There!\" he cried, \"your secret is out! Unless----\" He made a gesture as\nif to put his arm round her.\n\nWith a cry of revulsion, Olive shrank from him, and her face showed that\nshe preferred his threatening attitude to his endearing one.\n\n\"You let that lady alone, unless she desires your attentions,\" said\n", "Sadie,\n'The Link,' is a criminal and a deep one! But first, Miss Raynor, let us\nhave your story.\"\n\n\"When I answered the telephone call,\" Olive began, \"a man's voice said,\nrather brusquely, 'We have Amory Manning here. If you want to see him,\ncome here at once.' I said,--of course, I was terribly excited,--'Where\nare you? who are you?' The voice replied, 'Never mind all that. You have\nto make quick decision. If you want to see", "me, in that case, he would\nhave been sought and found by the people who had him in charge.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's the point of it all! They don't want to find him! They know\njust where he is, and all about him, but they won't tell, for it suits\ntheir base purposes to have him lost!\"\n\n\"Well, you _have_ cooked up a scheme! And he killed Amos Gately?\"\n\n\"Maybe, but if so, he did it unknowingly. Perhaps these people who are\nlooking after him, secret", "work, you mean?\"\n\n\"Yes; she's in the company's office,----\" Here Jenny whispered the\naddress to Wise.\n\n\"Good girl,\" he commented. \"Keep it dark. No use in telling all these\npeople!\"\n\nHe turned to my telephone, then said: \"No, Brice, you do it. Call\nHeadquarters and tell the Chief to arrest,--what's her name, Jenny?\"\n\n\"I--I didn't say, sir.\" The girl's caution was returning.\n\n\"Say now, then,\" commanded W" ], [ "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "----\"\n\n\"I did,\" Manning's face showed only an intense effort at reconstructing\nthe scene, \"I was going to stop at my rooms on the way, for something I\nneeded, and----\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Wise said, \"I'm interested in the Case Rivers phase of\nyour existence. Don't forget you're the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\"\n\nA strange smile passed over Manning's face.\n\n\"I'm just coming to that,\" he said; \"I am that man, and I can tell", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "ation on which he based his dream?\"\n\n\"Maybe! There must be! That mind of his is too sure-fire to hang on so\ndesperately to a mere dream. He had some experience of a strange nature,\nand it included something that he looks upon as falling through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But I've a vague idea of a motor accident. Say, a motor\ncar ran into a stone wall, and he was hurled high in the air, and landed\nin the East River----\"\n\n\"But I", "own man in every respect except in a knowledge of who or\nwhat I was before that journey through the earth.\"\n\n\"Then,\" I tried plain common sense, \"then, if you can reason, you must\nknow that you didn't fall through the earth. It would be impossible.\"\n\n\"I know that. My reason tells me it's impossible. But all I know about it\nis, that I did do it.\"\n\n\"Through a long hole,--miles long?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Who bored the hole?\"\n\n\"It was there all the time", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "\"You ought to design lace,\" I observed; \"those designs are too fine for\npapers or carpets.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" he returned, seriously gazing at his drawings. \"Anyway,\nI'll design something,--and it'll be something worthwhile!\"\n\n\"Maybe you were an engraver,\" I hazarded, \"before you----\"\n\n\"Before I fell through the earth? Maybe I was. Well, then, suppose\ntomorrow I so far encroach on your good offices as to go with you to see\nthe firm you", "and that's all there is about _that_!\"\n\n\"Good for you, Zizi!\" I cried. \"You're a loyal little champion! And just\nhow did he accomplish the feat?\"\n\n\"It will be explained in due season,\" and Zizi's big black eyes took on a\nsibylline expression as she gazed straight at me. \"If you were told, on\ngood authority, that a man had crossed the ocean in an aeroplane, you'd\nbelieve it, wouldn't you?\"\n\n\"Yes; but that doesn't seem", "wear, entirely worthless as clews to what\nwas doubtless an illustrious personality! However, I'm lucky to have\nbreath left in my body, and when I get back my memory, I'll prove that I\nreally did fall through the earth, and I'll find out where I fell in.\"\n\n\"I sincerely hope you will, old chap,\" and I shook hands as I rose to go.\n\"As the play says, 'You interest me strangely!' May I come to see you\nagain?\"\n\n\"I wish you would, Mr.", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", " 232\n XVI. The Snowflake 248\n XVII. Zizi's Hunch 264\n XVIII. Clear as Crystal 280\n\n\n\n\n THE MAN WHO FELL\n THROUGH THE\n EARTH\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER I\n Moving Shadow-Shapes\n\n\nOne of the occasions when I experienced \"that grand and glorious feeling\"\nwas when my law business had achieved proportions that justified my\nremoval", ". That's no hallucination, it's\na clear, true memory,--the only memory I have.\"\n\n\"Just what do you remember?\"\n\n\"That journey through the earth----\"\n\n\"You been reading Jules Verne lately?\"\n\n\"Never read it. But that long journey down, down,--miles and miles,--I\ncan never forget it! I've had a globe to look at, and I suppose I must\nhave started thousands of miles from here----\"\n\n\"Oh, now, come off----\"\n\n\"Well, it", "ination. But\nas he talked on, I became interested in his own personality.\n\nHe was as sane as I was in all respects, save his insistence that he had\nfallen through the earth.\n\nAs a child, an ambition of mine had been to dig down to China, and many\ntimes I had started the task. Perhaps his childhood had known a similar\nambition, and now, his memory gone, his distorted mind harked back to\nthat idea. I changed the subject, and found him remarkably well informed,\nfairly well educated, and of", "AAAAMAAJ\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN WHO FELL THROUGH THE EARTH\n\nby\n\nCAROLYN WELLS\n\nAuthor of \"The Room With the Tassels,\" \"Faulkner's Folly,\" etc.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNew York\nGeorge H. Doran Company\n\nCopyright, 1919,\nBy George H. Doran Company\nPrinted in the United States of America\n\n\n\n\n THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED\n TO\n BLAN", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city," ], [ "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", ". That's no hallucination, it's\na clear, true memory,--the only memory I have.\"\n\n\"Just what do you remember?\"\n\n\"That journey through the earth----\"\n\n\"You been reading Jules Verne lately?\"\n\n\"Never read it. But that long journey down, down,--miles and miles,--I\ncan never forget it! I've had a globe to look at, and I suppose I must\nhave started thousands of miles from here----\"\n\n\"Oh, now, come off----\"\n\n\"Well, it", "wear, entirely worthless as clews to what\nwas doubtless an illustrious personality! However, I'm lucky to have\nbreath left in my body, and when I get back my memory, I'll prove that I\nreally did fall through the earth, and I'll find out where I fell in.\"\n\n\"I sincerely hope you will, old chap,\" and I shook hands as I rose to go.\n\"As the play says, 'You interest me strangely!' May I come to see you\nagain?\"\n\n\"I wish you would, Mr.", "mentioned. Or, if you'll give me a letter of\nintroduction----\"\n\n\"Do you know your way around New York?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. I have a feeling I was in New York once,--a long time ago,\nbut I can't say for certain.\"\n\n\"I'll go with you then. I'll call for you tomorrow, and escort you to the\noffice I have in mind, and also, look up a home and fireside that appeals\nto you.\"\n\n\"The sort that appeals to me is out of", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "----\"\n\n\"I did,\" Manning's face showed only an intense effort at reconstructing\nthe scene, \"I was going to stop at my rooms on the way, for something I\nneeded, and----\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Wise said, \"I'm interested in the Case Rivers phase of\nyour existence. Don't forget you're the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\"\n\nA strange smile passed over Manning's face.\n\n\"I'm just coming to that,\" he said; \"I am that man, and I can tell", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "AAAAMAAJ\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN WHO FELL THROUGH THE EARTH\n\nby\n\nCAROLYN WELLS\n\nAuthor of \"The Room With the Tassels,\" \"Faulkner's Folly,\" etc.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNew York\nGeorge H. Doran Company\n\nCopyright, 1919,\nBy George H. Doran Company\nPrinted in the United States of America\n\n\n\n\n THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED\n TO\n BLAN", "own man in every respect except in a knowledge of who or\nwhat I was before that journey through the earth.\"\n\n\"Then,\" I tried plain common sense, \"then, if you can reason, you must\nknow that you didn't fall through the earth. It would be impossible.\"\n\n\"I know that. My reason tells me it's impossible. But all I know about it\nis, that I did do it.\"\n\n\"Through a long hole,--miles long?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Who bored the hole?\"\n\n\"It was there all the time", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "and that's all there is about _that_!\"\n\n\"Good for you, Zizi!\" I cried. \"You're a loyal little champion! And just\nhow did he accomplish the feat?\"\n\n\"It will be explained in due season,\" and Zizi's big black eyes took on a\nsibylline expression as she gazed straight at me. \"If you were told, on\ngood authority, that a man had crossed the ocean in an aeroplane, you'd\nbelieve it, wouldn't you?\"\n\n\"Yes; but that doesn't seem", "\"You ought to design lace,\" I observed; \"those designs are too fine for\npapers or carpets.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" he returned, seriously gazing at his drawings. \"Anyway,\nI'll design something,--and it'll be something worthwhile!\"\n\n\"Maybe you were an engraver,\" I hazarded, \"before you----\"\n\n\"Before I fell through the earth? Maybe I was. Well, then, suppose\ntomorrow I so far encroach on your good offices as to go with you to see\nthe firm you", "ination. But\nas he talked on, I became interested in his own personality.\n\nHe was as sane as I was in all respects, save his insistence that he had\nfallen through the earth.\n\nAs a child, an ambition of mine had been to dig down to China, and many\ntimes I had started the task. Perhaps his childhood had known a similar\nambition, and now, his memory gone, his distorted mind harked back to\nthat idea. I changed the subject, and found him remarkably well informed,\nfairly well educated, and of", "ation on which he based his dream?\"\n\n\"Maybe! There must be! That mind of his is too sure-fire to hang on so\ndesperately to a mere dream. He had some experience of a strange nature,\nand it included something that he looks upon as falling through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"I don't know. But I've a vague idea of a motor accident. Say, a motor\ncar ran into a stone wall, and he was hurled high in the air, and landed\nin the East River----\"\n\n\"But I" ], [ "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", ", but that black squall was so sudden and\nterrific, no one could see or know anything for the time being.\n\n\"However, I knew perfectly well, as I fell in, what had happened, but\nthen,--and I remember this, too,--I fell and fell,--down, down,--it\nseemed for miles; I was whirled dizzily about,--but still I fell--on and\non,--interminably. I felt my consciousness going,--at first, abnormally\nacute, my senses became dulled, and I had", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "as to the\nresult of my afternoon's quest, I told her my story at once.\n\nShe was greatly relieved that no trace of Amory Manning had been found on\nthe morgue records and though she was duly sympathetic when I told her of\nthe strange case of the man who fell through the earth, it only\nmomentarily claimed her preoccupied attention.\n\nShe first satisfied herself that by no chance could this man be Manning,\nand then turned her thoughts back to her all-engrossing theme.\n\n\"I am sorry for him,\" she said, as", "his eyes staring at the narrator\nof all this.\n\n\"Not to my knowledge. My realization of falling only lasted until I\nstruck the water in the sewer. That, doubtless, knocked me out for good\nand all,--mentally, I mean. I have to thank my wonderful vitality and\nstrong constitution for the fact that I really lived through the\ncatastrophe. Think what it means! Hurtled through that rushing torrent of\na sewer half filled with melted snow and water,--flung out into the\nriver, dashed about among the floating c", ". That's no hallucination, it's\na clear, true memory,--the only memory I have.\"\n\n\"Just what do you remember?\"\n\n\"That journey through the earth----\"\n\n\"You been reading Jules Verne lately?\"\n\n\"Never read it. But that long journey down, down,--miles and miles,--I\ncan never forget it! I've had a globe to look at, and I suppose I must\nhave started thousands of miles from here----\"\n\n\"Oh, now, come off----\"\n\n\"Well, it", ",\nas well as the beautiful architecture and mural decorations.\n\nA throng of people attended the services and the oppressive fragrance of\nmassed flowers and the continuous click of folding-chairs, combined with\nthe whispers and subdued rustling of the audience, produced that\nunmistakable funeral atmosphere so trying to sensitive nerves.\n\nThen, a single clear, sweet soprano voice, raised in a solemn anthem,\nbroke the tension, and soon the brief obsequies were over, and I found\nmyself moving along", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", ".\n\nI nodded my obedience, and then Zizi giggled and with her inimitable\nimpudence, she turned to Olive, and said: \"I'm like the White Queen, in\n'Alice,' I haven't pricked my finger yet, but I probably shall, some\nday.\"\n\n\"What were you screaming about, then?\" asked Mrs. Vail, inclined to be\nangry, while Olive looked amused and mystified.\n\n\"Emergency,\" and Zizi grinned at her. \"First aid to the injured,--or", "ination. But\nas he talked on, I became interested in his own personality.\n\nHe was as sane as I was in all respects, save his insistence that he had\nfallen through the earth.\n\nAs a child, an ambition of mine had been to dig down to China, and many\ntimes I had started the task. Perhaps his childhood had known a similar\nambition, and now, his memory gone, his distorted mind harked back to\nthat idea. I changed the subject, and found him remarkably well informed,\nfairly well educated, and of", "whom you\nhave in mind, and you don't know whom I have in mind, so we'll play the\ngame this way: I'll say, 'I know she is a clever woman.' Now you make a\ntruthful statement about her.\"\n\nEnthralled by his manner, Jenny said, almost involuntarily, \"I know she\nis a wrong one!\"\n\n\"I know she's pretty,\" said Wise.\n\n\"I know she isn't!\" snapped Jenny.\n\n\"I know she is black-haired and dresses well and owns", "'m sure, why she's staying\nhere, but I like to have her. Well, in about two minutes she had the\nfurniture all changed about. Not the heavy pieces, of course, but she\nmoved a small table and all the chairs, and finally unscrewed an electric\nlight bulb from one place and put it on another, and then, after looking\nall about, she said, 'Just one thing more!' and if she didn't spring up\non to a table with one jump and take down quite a large picture! 'There,'\nshe said, and", "we discussed it. She thinks he has been killed.\"\n\n\"Has she any reason to think that?\"\n\n\"No, except that she dreamed it.\"\n\n\"A most natural dream for a nervous, worried woman.\"\n\n\"Of course. I wonder if she knows there's a reward offered for Mr.\nManning?\"\n\n\"Maybe she offered it,--through the Kellogg people.\"\n\n\"No, she didn't.\"\n\n\"Pray, how do you know, oh, modern Cassandra?\"\n\n\"I don't know your old friend Cassandra", "as\nfrom a soul in mortal agony,--and said:\n\n\"I killed Amos Gately!\"\n\nI think the scene that followed this announcement was the strangest I\nhave ever experienced. For myself, I felt a sudden sinking, as if the\nbottom had fallen out of the universe. In fact, a whimsical idea flashed\nthrough my stunned brain that I was \"falling through the earth,\"--or into\na bottomless pit.\n\nThe white faces that I looked at meant nothing to me,--I saw them as in a\ndream, so", ", and I broke my appointment. Sorry, old man, but I had to see\nFriend Doctor, on the jump. Let's go now, in accordance with the Witch's\nwhim, and we'll take the big wagon, and all go.\"\n\nHe often called Zizi the Witch, or the Elf-child, and she liked it from\nhim, though she usually resented any familiarity.\n\nShe smiled at him, but I noted an undercurrent of sadness in her gaze,\nand I knew she was thinking of the evidence of the snow crystal.\n\n", "and he was almost pettish, \"I didn't fall through the middle of\nit.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" and I paused for further enlightenment.\n\n\"It was this way. I remember it perfectly, you know. I was\nsomewhere,--somewhere up North----\"\n\n\"Canada?\"\n\n\"I don't know--I don't know.\" He shook his head uncertainly. \"But I know\nit was up North where it's always cold.\"\n\nPerhaps the man had been an Arctic explorer.\n\n\"Icel" ], [ "'m sure, why she's staying\nhere, but I like to have her. Well, in about two minutes she had the\nfurniture all changed about. Not the heavy pieces, of course, but she\nmoved a small table and all the chairs, and finally unscrewed an electric\nlight bulb from one place and put it on another, and then, after looking\nall about, she said, 'Just one thing more!' and if she didn't spring up\non to a table with one jump and take down quite a large picture! 'There,'\nshe said, and", "placed:\n\nNot only in possession of a considerable fortune of her own, Amos\nGately's will left her a goodly additional sum, and also the house in\nwhich they had lived.\n\n\"So you see,\" Olive said, \"I shall continue to live here,--for the\npresent. I have Mrs. Vail now with me,--as a duenna, for propriety's\nsake. She is a dear old lady, and is of a pliable, manageable sort. I\nchose her for that reason, largely. Also, she is pleasant", ",\nas well as the beautiful architecture and mural decorations.\n\nA throng of people attended the services and the oppressive fragrance of\nmassed flowers and the continuous click of folding-chairs, combined with\nthe whispers and subdued rustling of the audience, produced that\nunmistakable funeral atmosphere so trying to sensitive nerves.\n\nThen, a single clear, sweet soprano voice, raised in a solemn anthem,\nbroke the tension, and soon the brief obsequies were over, and I found\nmyself moving along", ", miss!\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" and Jenny's saucy face looked serious enough now. \"But it was\nall so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I just\ncan't say what was so and what wasn't!\"\n\n\"That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think the\nmatter over, while I talk to your sister.\"\n\nMinny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. But\nafter all, she had little to tell. She had brought", "with the crush of people slowly surging toward the\ndoor.\n\nI walked home, the clear, frosty air feeling grateful after the crowded\nrooms.\n\nAnd I wondered. Wondered what would be the next scene in the awful drama.\nWould they accuse Miss Raynor,--lovely Olive Raynor, of the crime? How\ncould they? That delicate, high-bred girl!\n\nAnd yet, she was independent of thought and fearless of action.\n\nThough I knew her but slightly, I had heard more or less about her, and I\nhad learned she", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "-eyed and tearless, looking so\npathetically lonely and so unable to cope with her new responsibilities,\nthat I gladly promised her all possible assistance that I could give,\nboth in legal matters and in any personal or friendly ways.\n\n\"Don't think me helpless,\" she said, reading my thoughts; \"I shall rise\nto the situation, I shall adapt myself to my changed circumstances, but\nit will take a little time, of course.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" I agreed, \"and don't attempt to do too much at first. Take\nplenty of time", "in the day before,\nand of a quieter type.\n\nAltogether, she looked very lovely, and her sweet, flower-like face, with\nits big, pathetic brown eyes, was raised frankly to Chief Martin as she\nanswered his questions in a low, clear voice. A slight pallor told of a\nnight of wakefulness and sorrow, but this seemed to accentuate the\nscarlet of her fine, delicate lips,--a scarlet unacquainted with the\nassistance of the rouge stick.\n\n\"No,\" she said, positively,", "spend than she gets for a salary.\"\n\n\"I know she's a good girl.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, sir,--that way. But she----\"\n\n\"She smokes cigarettes.\"\n\n\"Yes; she does. Oh, I think that's awful.\"\n\n\"Well, it's your turn. You know she's 'The Link'?\"\n\n\"I know she's been called that, but it isn't a regular nickname, and I\ndon't know what it means.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"Her", "-engrossing subject of the Gately case, when Zizi dashed in.\n\n\"Alone I did it!\" she exclaimed, and tossing the folds of her voluminous\nblack cape over her shoulder, she folded her arms and assumed the\nattitude of Napoleon; scowling from under her heavy black brows, though\nher eyes were dancing.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I asked, while Norah gazed enchanted at the\ndramatic little figure.\n\n\"Returned the missing 'Link' to her rightful owners!\"\n\n\"What!", "?\"\n\n\"Why, I expect so. Is anybody there now?\"\n\n\"Yes, a police detective,--that man, Hudson. You know they call him Foxy\nJim Hudson, and I suppose he's finding out a lot of stuff that isn't so!\"\n\n\"You haven't a very high opinion of our arms of the law.\"\n\n\"Oh, they're all right,--but most detectives can't see what's right under\ntheir noses!\"\n\n\"Not omniscient Sherlocks, are they? And you think you", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", ", but there was none in sight,\nand I felt pretty sure there was a blockade on the line. The streets\nshowed snowpiles, black and crusted, and the street cleaners were few and\nfar apart.\n\nThe car Manning and I managed to get onto was crowded to the doors. We\nboth stood, and there were just too many people between us to make\nconversation possible, but I nodded across and between the bobbing heads\nand faces, and Manning returned my greeting.\n\nStopping occasionally to let off some struggling, weary standees and to\n", "it!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally he's Amos Gately's----\"\n\nA scream of agony from Zizi interrupted my speech, and jumping to her\nfeet she danced round the room, her forefinger thrust between her red\nlips, and her little, eerie face contorted as with pain.\n\n\"Oh, what is it, Zizi?\" cried Olive, running to the frantic girl.\n\nMrs. Vail, hearing the turmoil, came running in, and she and Olive held\nZizi between them, begging", "Olive couldn't be sure whether she was there before or after two. She\nhad lunched late, and had done some errands, and had finally reached her\nfriend's home by mid-afternoon.\n\nThis seemed to me most plausible, for society young ladies do not always\nkeep strict note of time, but the Chief apparently thought it a matter of\nmoment and made notes concerning it.\n\nOlive looked indifferent, and though she was courteous enough, her whole\nmanner betokened a desire to get the examination over and to be allowed\nto go home", "whom you\nhave in mind, and you don't know whom I have in mind, so we'll play the\ngame this way: I'll say, 'I know she is a clever woman.' Now you make a\ntruthful statement about her.\"\n\nEnthralled by his manner, Jenny said, almost involuntarily, \"I know she\nis a wrong one!\"\n\n\"I know she's pretty,\" said Wise.\n\n\"I know she isn't!\" snapped Jenny.\n\n\"I know she is black-haired and dresses well and owns", "cleaner if he had seen him.\n\n\"Naw,\" he said, blowing on his cold fingers, \"naw, didn't see nobody.\nCan't see nothin' in this here black squall!\"\n\nAnd that's just what it was. A sudden fierce whirlwind, a maelstrom of\ntossing flakes, and a black lowering darkness that seemed to envelop\neverything.\n\n\"Mad Mary,\" the great clock nearby, boomed out five solemn notes that\nsomehow added to the weirdness of the moment, and I", ", but I do know Mrs. Russell isn't\noffering any five thousand dollars. She can't afford it.\"\n\n\"Why, she's a rich woman.\"\n\n\"She passes for one, and, of course, she isn't suffering for food or\nclothes. But she is economizing. She was wearing her last year's hat and\nmuff, and she maids herself.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she wore her old clothes because she was merely out to call on\nmy unworthy self.\"\n\n\"No. She was on her way to a reception. They", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "'s black eyes narrowed as she looked keenly at\nthe other.\n\nBut the woman was not to be trapped. She glanced at us each in turn, and\nseemed to conclude we were not friendly visitors for all Zizi's pretense.\n\n\"I know nothing of any arrest,\" she said, evenly; \"I think you have\nmistaken the house.\"\n\n\"I think not,\" and Penny Wise looked at her sternly. \"Your bluff won't\ngo, madam,--Sadie, 'The Link,' is arrested, and the" ], [ "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "\nor a very few minutes after, if that interests you. I shall be here, at\nThe Touraine, for another week, and will cheerfully allow myself to be\ninterviewed at your convenience, but, as I said, I have no further\ninformation to give than that I have here set forth.\n\n Very truly yours,\n Nicholas Lusk.\n\n\nThe letter was dated from Boston, on Saturday evening, two days before.\nTruly, Friend Lusk had delayed his statement, but as he said, that was\nhuman nature, in matters not", "mentioned. Or, if you'll give me a letter of\nintroduction----\"\n\n\"Do you know your way around New York?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. I have a feeling I was in New York once,--a long time ago,\nbut I can't say for certain.\"\n\n\"I'll go with you then. I'll call for you tomorrow, and escort you to the\noffice I have in mind, and also, look up a home and fireside that appeals\nto you.\"\n\n\"The sort that appeals to me is out of", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "from my old office to new and more commodious quarters. I\nselected a somewhat pretentious building on Madison Avenue between\nThirtieth and Fortieth Streets, and it was a red-letter day for me when I\nmoved into my pleasant rooms on its top floor.\n\nThe Puritan Trust Company occupied all of the ground floor and there were\nalso some of the private offices of that institution on the top floor, as\nwell as a few offices to be let.\n\nMy rooms were well located and delightfully light, and I furnished them\nwith care, selecting chairs and des", "'s discretion, and I was pretty positive he'd find out\nsomething,--if there were anything worth finding out.\n\nAnd there was!\n\n\nRodman, by good luck, was out and his offices locked. Hudson gently\npersuaded the locks to let go their grip, and, for he let me go with him,\nwe went in.\n\nThe first thing that hit me in the eyes, was a big war map on the wall.\nMoreover, though not a duplicate of Mr. Gately's map, it was similar, and\nit hung in a", "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "you were so long about coming down, I came up,\" said Mr. Manning,\nwith a little smile. \"What's this,--what about a shot? Where's Mr.\nGately?\"\n\nTalcott hesitated, but Olive Raynor poured out the whole story at once.\n\nManning listened gravely, and at the end, said simply: \"He _must_ be\nfound. How shall we set about it?\"\n\n\"That's what I don't know,\" replied Talcott.\n\n\"I'll help,\" said Olive, brisk", "\nMiss Raynor and Mr. Manning here,--in case,--in case Mr. Gately returns.\"\n\nI knew that Talcott meant, in case we should find anything wrong in the\nelevator, but he put it the more casual way, and Miss Raynor seemed\nsatisfied.\n\n\"Yes, do,\" she said, \"and we'll wait here till you come back. Of course,\nyou can find where it lands, and--oh, wait a minute! Maybe it opens in\nthe next door building. I remember, sometimes when I've been waiting in", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "\nand many of the employees had gone home. My manner of grave importance\nsufficed to let me pass any inquisitive attendants and I found Mr. Mason\nin his office.\n\nI told him the bare facts in a few words, for this was no time to\ntarry,--I wanted to get up and tell Miss Raynor before any less\nconsiderate messenger might reach her.\n\nMr. Mason was aghast at the terrible tidings, and closing his desk at\nonce, he quickly reached for his hat and coat and started on his fearsome\nerrand.", ", where she sat on a low ottoman.\n\n\"And so, I went alone. The taxi was at the curb when I left this house. I\ngot in, and was taken to the house in Washington Square. I felt no fear\nuntil, after Mrs. Kent admitted me, she showed me into a room where I\nfound myself confronted by Mr. Rodman. Mrs. Kent remained with me, but I\nsaw at once she was not friendly.\n\n\"'Where is Mr. Manning?' I asked. Mr. Rodman only laughed rudely and said\nhe hadn", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "and he was almost pettish, \"I didn't fall through the middle of\nit.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" and I paused for further enlightenment.\n\n\"It was this way. I remember it perfectly, you know. I was\nsomewhere,--somewhere up North----\"\n\n\"Canada?\"\n\n\"I don't know--I don't know.\" He shook his head uncertainly. \"But I know\nit was up North where it's always cold.\"\n\nPerhaps the man had been an Arctic explorer.\n\n\"Icel", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", ", but there was none in sight,\nand I felt pretty sure there was a blockade on the line. The streets\nshowed snowpiles, black and crusted, and the street cleaners were few and\nfar apart.\n\nThe car Manning and I managed to get onto was crowded to the doors. We\nboth stood, and there were just too many people between us to make\nconversation possible, but I nodded across and between the bobbing heads\nand faces, and Manning returned my greeting.\n\nStopping occasionally to let off some struggling, weary standees and to\n", "nothing of those and had been a\ntenant of the Puritan Building but a very short time he suddenly lost\ninterest in me and turned his attention to Miss Raynor.\n\nOlive Raynor had come alone and unattended. This surprised me, for I had\nimagined the young ladies of the higher social circles never went\nanywhere alone. But in many ways Miss Raynor evinced her independence and\nself-reliance, and I had no doubt a trusted chauffeur waited in her car\noutside.\n\nShe was garbed in black, but it was not the heavy", "and to look into the Gately rooms. It was now nearly half an hour\nafter the time he had set for his call, and as it was not his habit to be\ntardy, I was surprised. I had begun to look upon Rivers as a man of\nimportance, not only in the matters with which we were associated, but he\nshowed so much general ability and force of character that I wondered who\nor what he would turn out to be. For I felt sure he would find himself,\nand even if he never discovered who he had been he would make a new name\nand a well" ], [ "quainted in New York, and he----\"\nhere Olive broke down utterly and fell into a hysterical burst of\nweeping.\n\nZizi rose and gently urged Olive to go with her from the room.\n\nA silence fell as the two girls disappeared. It was broken by Mrs. Vail,\nwho remarked, dolefully, \"I do hope that nice Mr. Rivers will come back,\nfor dear Olive is _so_ in love with him.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Pennington Wise, \"Miss Raynor in love with Rivers! That\nwill never", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "waits for me to\nbe a silly again!\"\n\n\"But she hasn't seen Rivers half a dozen times,\" I said, smiling at\nZizi's flight of imagination.\n\n\"That's nothing,\" she scoffed; \"if ever there was a case of love at first\nsight, those two have got it! They don't really know it themselves yet,\nbut if Amory Manning wants Miss Olive, he'd better come out of hiding and\nwin her while the winning's good! And it's my belief he'd be too late\n", "'t the slightest idea. And then I knew it was all a trap,--but I\ndidn't know _why_ I was tricked there. And then,\" Olive paused, and a\ndeep blush came over her face, but she shook her head and went bravely\non, \"then he tried to make love to me. I appealed to Mrs. Kent, but she\nonly laughed scornfully at my distress. He said if I would marry him he\nwould protect me from all suspicion of being implicated in--in the death\nof my guardian! Of", "clenched fist in my face. \"Mr.\nBadman Brice, you've got a lot of follow-up thinks a-coming to you, and\nyou'd better begin 'em right now!\"\n\nShe looked like a little fury as she danced around my chair and exploded\nthe vials of her wrath. \"That Mr. Rivers is a perfectly good man,--I\nknow! He and Miss Olive are in love,--but they don't hardly know it\nthemselves,--bless 'em! And Mr. Rivers he won't", "Talcott, of course\nyou know.\"\n\nI had never met Amory Manning before, but one glance was enough to show\nhow matters stood between him and Olive Raynor. They were more than\nfriends,--that much was certain.\n\n\"I saw Mr. Manning downstairs,\" Miss Raynor said to Talcott, with a\nlovely flush, \"and--as Uncle Amos doesn't--well, he isn't just crazy over\nhim, I asked him not to come up here with me, but to wait for me\ndownstairs.\"\n\n\"And as", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "to correct a misstatement of mine,\" she said; \"I told you I\nwasn't engaged to Amory Manning--but,--I am!\"\n\nThe two came over to my office, and the ovation we gave them was second\nonly to our reception of Manning himself a few moments before.\n\n\"Are you _sure_ it is Manning?\" Wise teased her.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Olive, most seriously. \"You see he was in disguise when he\nwas himself, and so----\"\n\nHer voice was lost in the shout that went up", "most hysterically and then suddenly became most gentle and tender. She\nran for Olive's wraps herself, and bringing them, put them on with the\ncareful air of a mother dressing her child.\n\nOlive, herself, was as one dazed. She, now and then, looked toward Rivers\nwith a shy, yet wistful glance, and he looked back with a big, hearty\nsmile that seemed to warm her very soul.\n\nWe piled into the big touring car and made a quick run to the Puritan\nBuilding.\n\nThen we all", ", and seemed a\nhelpless, hopeless victim of the man who held her.\n\n\"Are you engaged to me?\" Rodman said, looking at Olive, with a\nthreatening scowl.\n\n\"Yes,\" she managed to whisper, but so agonized was her face that it was\npalpable she spoke under coercion.\n\nI was uncertain what to do; Wise, too, looked nonplussed, but Rivers,\nthough a stranger to Olive, seemed imbued with an irresistible chivalry,\nand drawing nearer", "that Miss Olive is a whole lot interested in that\nfascinating Mr. Rivers!\"\n\n\"Oh, now,\" and Norah looked reproof at the saucy, smiling girl, \"Miss\nRaynor is the _fiancée_ of Amory Manning.\"\n\n\"Nixy! she told me she never was engaged to Mr. Manning. And when I tease\nher about Mr. Rivers, she blushes the loveliest pink you ever saw, and\nsays, 'Oh, Zizi, don't be a silly!' but then she sits and", "story.\n\n\"Excuse me, Mrs. Vail,\" he interrupted her, \"but, really, I must run away\nnow, and I want a word or two with Mr. Rivers first.\"\n\nThe good lady subsided, but it was plain to be seen she was disappointed.\n\n\"May I come in?\" and a smiling Olive appeared in the doorway. \"Am I\nwanted?\"\n\n\"Are you wanted?\" the eager, hungry smile Rivers gave her was pathetic.\nFor it was so spontaneous, so gladly welcoming that it was as if a light\n", "Raynor. She says,--Zizi does,--that Mr. Rivers is over head\nand ears in love with Olive, but he won't tell her so because he is, as\nhe puts it, a self-named man! Zizi heard him call himself that when\ntalking to Miss Raynor, and then he just looked away, and resolutely\nchanged the subject. But she thinks,--Zizi does,--that he's working night\nand day to find out who he is, and she's sure he'll find out. And also,\nhe's working", "then he didn't know it was wrong.\" Olive spoke with deep\nconviction, and I didn't try to disabuse her mind.\n\nAnd then Pennington Wise was announced.\n\nAs he entered the room his manner showed no trace of self-consciousness,\nand as I had anticipated, Olive was greatly pleased with her first\nglimpse of him. But to her surprise, and mine also, he was accompanied,\nor rather followed, by a young woman, a mere slip of a girl, who paused\nand stood quietly by.\n\nAs Olive smiled at", "able reputation for integrity, and\nalso because of the infinite precautions he had taken. Indeed, if he had\nnot fallen a victim to the personal charms of 'The Link,' his share in\nthe wrong might never have been learned.\"\n\nOlive listened to all this, white-faced and still,--her lips a tense,\ndrawn line of scarlet,--her expression a stony calm.\n\nZizi, watching her closely, and with loving care, slipped her little\nbrown paw into Olive's hand, and noted with satisfaction the faint\nanswering smile", "Raynor,\" he\nbegan, \"you said, or rather, you agreed when Rodman said you were his\n_fiancée_. Will you tell us why?\"\n\nOlive flushed, but more with anger than embarrassment.\n\n\"The man threatened me,\" she said, \"he first tried to make love to me,\nand when I repulsed him, he told me that unless I would promise to marry\nhim he would tell something that would be a living reproach to the memory\nof my dead guardian. I declared he could say nothing against Amos", "And rising, she went swiftly across the room, to a\ndesk, and from a pigeonhole took an opened letter, which she carried to\nWise, and then dropped back into her seat again.\n\nMrs. Vail gave a surprised gasp, and Olive looked her amazement.\n\n\"How did you know where to find that?\" she exclaimed, her great brown\neyes wide with wonder.\n\n\"Dead easy,\" said Zizi, nonchalantly; \"you've scarcely taken your eyes\noff that spot, Miss Raynor, since the", "respect Mr. Manning as a friend, but that is all.\" And then a lovely\nblush suffused Olive's face, followed quickly by a look of pain,--and we\nknew she was thinking of Rivers, and his possible defection. Never have I\nseen a woman's face so easy to read as Olive Raynor's. Perhaps because of\nher pure, transparent character, for in my enforced intimacy with her, as\nI managed her estate, I had learned that she was an exceptional nature,\nhigh-minded, fine, and conscientious in all", "\nthat I love that girl. She is, to me, the very crown of womanhood. I have\nworshiped her from the first moment I saw her. But, understand, I have no\nhopes,--no aspirations. I shall never offer my hand and heart to any\nwoman while I have no name to offer. And I shall never have a name. If I\nhaven't yet discovered my own identity I never can. No, I'm no pessimist,\nand I know that some time some sudden shock might restore my memory all\nin a minute, yet I", ". And I had noticed several things\nof late that made me feel pretty sure that her friendship for Rivers was\ntrue and deep, if indeed it were not something more than friendship.\nThis, to be sure, would argue but a fickle loyalty to the memory of Amory\nManning, but as Norah and I agreed, when talking it over, Miss Raynor had\nnever shown any desperate grief at Manning's disappearance,--at least,\nnot more than the loss of a casual friend might arouse.\n\nBut I knew where my duty lay. And so I said, \"R" ], [ "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "worthwhile individuality for himself yet.\n\nNorah, too, admired him, and seemed to know as much of his capabilities,\nor more, than I did myself.\n\n\"I don't know just what sort of work, but I think it's connected with the\nmysteries we're up against ourselves. And I know about him, because Zizi\ntold me. She sees everything he does,--when she's with him, I mean. Not a\ngesture or motion escapes her notice. And she's watching his attitude\ntoward Miss", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "-engrossing subject of the Gately case, when Zizi dashed in.\n\n\"Alone I did it!\" she exclaimed, and tossing the folds of her voluminous\nblack cape over her shoulder, she folded her arms and assumed the\nattitude of Napoleon; scowling from under her heavy black brows, though\nher eyes were dancing.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I asked, while Norah gazed enchanted at the\ndramatic little figure.\n\n\"Returned the missing 'Link' to her rightful owners!\"\n\n\"What!", "\n\n\"Perhaps. Could you recognize the head of the visitor if you should see\nit again shadowed on the door?\"\n\n\"I am not sure, but I doubt if I could. I could tell if it were a very\ndifferent type of head, but if merely similar, I could not swear it was\nthe same man.\"\n\n\"H'm. We must make the experiment. At least it may give us a hint in the\nright direction.\"\n\nHe questioned me further as to my knowledge of Mr. Gately and his\naffairs, but when he found I knew almost", "in his speech. Until this moment Rivers had\nspoken in the peculiar tones I had noticed the first time I met him.\nMonotonous tones, almost devoid of inflection. Now, his voice was normal,\nand even more melodious than the average.\n\nSurely, the man had found himself, but if he was really Amory\nManning,--well, my mind refused to go further.\n\nAnd he had also said that he killed Amos Gately!\n\nBut I felt no need of asking questions, or even of wondering, for the man\nbefore us looked", "dazed was my intelligence.\n\nAnd then, they assumed their individuality and I saw that Olive's lovely\ncountenance was a complete blank; like me, she failed to grasp the full\nmeaning of Rivers' confession.\n\nMrs. Vail, her eyes closed, lay back limply in a chair, and groaned\naudibly, while Norah buried her face in a nearby silken curtain and\nsobbed.\n\nPennington Wise looked like a man who has just heard the worst,--but who\nexpected it. However, the shock had", "room, appraisingly, his\nquick, darting glance taking in every detail, he scanned the desk and all\nthe things on it, he looked through into the farther room,--the Blue\nRoom,--and saw the great war map hanging on the wall, and then he rose,\nstraightened his broad shoulders, and shook himself as one who arouses\nfrom sleep.\n\nBreathlessly, we who watched, saw a great light come into his eyes,--a\nnew self-respect, a new sense of importance showed in his whole bearing\nand, with a smile", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "as\nfrom a soul in mortal agony,--and said:\n\n\"I killed Amos Gately!\"\n\nI think the scene that followed this announcement was the strangest I\nhave ever experienced. For myself, I felt a sudden sinking, as if the\nbottom had fallen out of the universe. In fact, a whimsical idea flashed\nthrough my stunned brain that I was \"falling through the earth,\"--or into\na bottomless pit.\n\nThe white faces that I looked at meant nothing to me,--I saw them as in a\ndream, so", "house. Anyways,\nthat's what he done,--a long time ago. I had to know of it, of\ncourse,----\"\n\n\"Of course, as superintendent of the Matteawan.\"\n\n\"That's what they call it now, but I like better to be called janitor. As\njanitor I began, and as janitor I'll work to the end. Well, Mr. Gately,\nhe went up and down in the little car whenever he chose, and no one\nnoticed him at all. It wasn't, after all", "Amos Gately, as I had so\noften seen it pictured. The other was merely a human shadow with no\nstriking characteristics.\n\nIt was evident their interview was not amicable. I heard a loud,\nexplosive \"No!\" from one or other of them, and then both figures rose and\nthere was a hand-to-hand struggle. Their voices indicated a desperate\nquarrel, though no words were distinguishable.\n\nAnd then, as I looked, the shadows blurred into one\nanother,--swayed,--separated, and then", "would rather be told\nabruptly, like that, than to have me mince matters.\n\nAnd I was right, for she said, quickly, \"Tell it all,--any knowledge is\nbetter than suspense.\"\n\nSo I told her, as gently as I could, of our discovery of the body of Amos\nGately in his private elevator, at the bottom of the shaft.\n\n\"But I don't understand,\" said Manning. \"Shot through the heart and alone\nin the elevator?\"\n\n\"That's the way it is. I've no", "'s discretion, and I was pretty positive he'd find out\nsomething,--if there were anything worth finding out.\n\nAnd there was!\n\n\nRodman, by good luck, was out and his offices locked. Hudson gently\npersuaded the locks to let go their grip, and, for he let me go with him,\nwe went in.\n\nThe first thing that hit me in the eyes, was a big war map on the wall.\nMoreover, though not a duplicate of Mr. Gately's map, it was similar, and\nit hung in a", "and to look into the Gately rooms. It was now nearly half an hour\nafter the time he had set for his call, and as it was not his habit to be\ntardy, I was surprised. I had begun to look upon Rivers as a man of\nimportance, not only in the matters with which we were associated, but he\nshowed so much general ability and force of character that I wondered who\nor what he would turn out to be. For I felt sure he would find himself,\nand even if he never discovered who he had been he would make a new name\nand a well", "\n\nThis alarmed me a little, for to my mind, it argued him a guilty man,\nand, that, in fact, he had declared himself to be.\n\nNorah and I exchanged glances of understanding,--or, rather, of not\nunderstanding,--and Manning began his story.\n\n\"I think I will begin right here,\" he said, in a slow, methodical way,\nand with the air of one who has a disagreeable duty to perform, but who\nhas no intention of shirking any part of it.\n\n\"I remember everything" ], [ "He hasn't anything to do with that spy matter!\"\n\n\"Why!\" I exclaimed; \"you said he was the murderer!\"\n\n\"Well, I'd rather be a murderer than a spy!\" Her eyes snapped and her\nwhole thin little body quivered with indignation. \"A murder is a decent\ncrime compared to spy work! Oh, my nice Mr. Rivers!\"\n\nShe broke down and cried convulsively.\n\n\"Let her alone,\" said Wise, not unkindly, after a brief glance at the\nshaking little figure. \"", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "\nor a very few minutes after, if that interests you. I shall be here, at\nThe Touraine, for another week, and will cheerfully allow myself to be\ninterviewed at your convenience, but, as I said, I have no further\ninformation to give than that I have here set forth.\n\n Very truly yours,\n Nicholas Lusk.\n\n\nThe letter was dated from Boston, on Saturday evening, two days before.\nTruly, Friend Lusk had delayed his statement, but as he said, that was\nhuman nature, in matters not", "\n\n\"I can't tell you, Mr. Brice, unless it becomes gravely necessary. But it\nhas to do with--with men higher up,--and it has nothing to do with my\nguardian's death,--of that I'm certain.\"\n\n\"Very well, Miss Raynor; I trust you, of course, that goes without\nsaying, but I also trust your judgment in reserving your full confidence\nin this matter.\"\n\n\"You may. I assure you I will tell you all, if it becomes imperative that\nI do so. Meant", "important to oneself.\n\nThe Chief was furiously angry at the lateness of the information, and had\nalready dispatched a messenger to get the weapon and to interview the\nBoston man.\n\n\"It's all straight on the face of it,\" declared Chief Martin; \"only an\nhonest, cheerful booby would write like that! He picks up a pistol,\nforgets all about it, and then, when he learns it's evidence,--or may\nbe,--he calmly waits forty-eight hours before he pipes up!\"\n\n", "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", ".\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" laughed Rivers, \"I've been trying to connect up with\nthe missing Manning myself, but I can't work it. So, I'm out for the\nreward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he's gone beyond\nrecall.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Wise put in, \"I've found out who offers the reward. And, if\nyou please, it's none other than the United States Government!\"\n\n\"Why?\" Rivers asked, interestedly.\n\n\"Well, it seems M", "izi's, rarely shown, was one of her chiefest charms, and\nManning gratefully accepted it, and let it help him.\n\n\"Shall I tell all,--now and here?\" he asked, glancing at Pennington Wise.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the detective, after a moment's thought. \"Yes, if you will.\"\n\n\"Very well, then.\" Manning was entirely composed now, but it was evident\nhe was holding himself together by a strong effort. Also, he carefully\nrefrained from looking in Olive's direction.", "\n\"Now,\" said Hudson, his brow furrowed, \"to see where else this bloomin'\nrogue trap lets 'em off! There's somethin' mighty queer goin' on that we\nain't caught on to yet!\"\n\nHe carefully closed the door, readjusted the map, and making sure we had\nleft no traces of our visit, he motioned me out and we went away.\n\nHe asked me to return to my office, and promised to see me there later.\n\nWhen he returned, he told me that he had visited every other", "by demanding my time and\nattention for himself, instead of allowing me to entertain my guests\nproperly.\"\n\n\"Doubtless so you wouldn't do it again.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. But all that was uncomfortable for me,--almost\nunbearable,--yet one doesn't kill one's people for such things.\"\n\nTo me this simple statement of Olive Raynor's was more convincing than a\nstorm of denial. She had stormed, with indignation, at the hint of\nsuspicion, but her quiet", "\"Only a date,--on a plain sheet of paper,--what does that mean?\"\n\n\"Perhaps nothing--perhaps everything.\"\n\nIt wasn't like Penny Wise to be cryptic, and I gathered that the papers\nwere really of value as evidence. \"Has the writing been erased?\" I\nhazarded.\n\n\"Probably not. No. I don't think so.\" He scrutinized more closely.\n\n\"No,\" he concluded, \"nothing like that. The message is all told on the\nsurface, and he who runs may read.\"", "and Wise shook his head.\n\"There's no doubt about it in my mind. You see, 'The Link' usually took\nher news to Rodman and he secretly, and by means of the secret elevator,\ncarried it to Gately who gave it over to the agents of the German\nGovernment.\"\n\n\"Do you know this?\" asked Rivers.\n\n\"I couldn't get Rodman to admit it, but when I taxed him with something\nof the sort, he flew into such a rage that I'm sure I struck the truth.\"\n\n\"Where", "Manning, a taxi will call for\nyou in five minutes. Tell nobody, or you will queer the whole game. Do\nyou consent?' I may not give his exact words, but that was his general\nmeaning. I had to think quickly; I _did_ want to see Mr. Manning, and I\nfeared no harm. So I said I agreed to all the stipulations, I would tell\nno one, and I would go in the taxicab that would come for me.\"\n\n\"But you told me,\" put in Mrs. Vail, who liked to feel her", "found Jenny, the yellow-haired\nstenographer of Amos Gately.\n\nThe girl was, without doubt, hysterical, and her account of the shooting\nwas disjointed and incoherent.\n\nMoreover, Mr. Pitt was of the supercilious type, the kind who never\nbelieves anything, and his manner, as he listened to Jenny's story, was\nincredulous and almost scoffing.\n\nSo Jenny's story, though to me illuminating, was, I felt sure, to Pitt,\nof little value.\n\n\"", "and Wise looked mystified.\n\n\"You probably didn't lift the telephone, then,\" Zizi returned, shaking\nher elfin head, while a deep sorrow showed in her black eyes.\n\n\"I don't believe I did,\" Wise mused, thinking back. \"I did pick up most\nof the desk fittings to examine them but I suppose I didn't take hold of\nthe telephone at all.\"\n\n\"'Course not!\" Zizi was always ready to defend Wise's actions. \"How could\nyou know there was a picture under it?", "be\nthe right one.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" Wise assented, \"there may be other explanations and more\ncomplicated ones. But it doesn't matter now. The receipt of these\nletters,--blank letters,--was of secret value to Gately, and proves him\nto have been pretty deeply mixed up in it all.\"\n\n\"But what about Mr. Rivers?\" spoke up Zizi; \"where does he come in?\"\n\n\"It looks black,\" Wise declared. \"He was here that day secretly. That is,\nhe didn't come", "generously sharing the first sight of the solution\nwith us, \"this card has seven holes, at irregular distances. By placing\nit in the right position on this solid bank of letters, certain ones show\nthrough the holes, and these,--I hope,--will spell the message.\"\n\nAnd it did. After re-adjusting the key card several times, Wise finally\ngot it right, and the letters that could be seen through the holes in\nthis card, as he moved it along, spelled coherent words and sentences. Of\ncourse, the other letters were not to be used.", "The information is of no particular value now,\" Wise said; \"it refers to\nyesterday as the sailing date. The point is, that this card,--this key\ncard, was found on----\"\n\nHe paused: a glance at Olive's agonized face stopped the words he would\nhave uttered. But we all knew. That card, found on Amos Gately's desk, or\nin his desk drawer, proved that he was implicated in the interception of\nthese messages, that he was guilty of treason to his country!\n\nWise", "\n\n\"When you drew the snow crystal!\" Zizi cried.\n\n\"Yes,\" he smiled. \"And then, I saw something that hinted a possible\nhiding-place--ah, here it is!\"\n\nHe stepped to the desk and picked up the heavy, ornate gold penholder. He\nfussed with it a moment, and then, unscrewing it in the middle, showed\nthat it was a cleverly constructed place to hide a tiny roll of thin\npaper.\n\nThere was such a roll in it, and pulling it out, Manning grinned with\ngle" ], [ "when he struck he was knocked\nunconscious. Then, he was taken to a hospital, or somewhere, and as the\nfall had utterly blotted out his memory, he was kept in confinement.\nThen, somehow he broke loose and came to New York,--or, maybe, he was\nbrought to New York for treatment by the doctors and he got away and\neither threw himself into the river or fell in accidentally, and when he\nwas rescued he still remembered the fall but nothing else concerning his\ndisaster.\"\n\n\"Good enough, Norah, as a theory. But seems to", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "cleaner if he had seen him.\n\n\"Naw,\" he said, blowing on his cold fingers, \"naw, didn't see nobody.\nCan't see nothin' in this here black squall!\"\n\nAnd that's just what it was. A sudden fierce whirlwind, a maelstrom of\ntossing flakes, and a black lowering darkness that seemed to envelop\neverything.\n\n\"Mad Mary,\" the great clock nearby, boomed out five solemn notes that\nsomehow added to the weirdness of the moment, and I", ", but that black squall was so sudden and\nterrific, no one could see or know anything for the time being.\n\n\"However, I knew perfectly well, as I fell in, what had happened, but\nthen,--and I remember this, too,--I fell and fell,--down, down,--it\nseemed for miles; I was whirled dizzily about,--but still I fell--on and\non,--interminably. I felt my consciousness going,--at first, abnormally\nacute, my senses became dulled, and I had", "Amos Gately, as I had so\noften seen it pictured. The other was merely a human shadow with no\nstriking characteristics.\n\nIt was evident their interview was not amicable. I heard a loud,\nexplosive \"No!\" from one or other of them, and then both figures rose and\nthere was a hand-to-hand struggle. Their voices indicated a desperate\nquarrel, though no words were distinguishable.\n\nAnd then, as I looked, the shadows blurred into one\nanother,--swayed,--separated, and then", "at their own game of\ndeduction. I practiced it on Norah sometimes. She would bring me a veil\nor glove of some friend of hers, and I would try to deduce the friend's\ntraits of character. My successes and failures were about fifty-fifty,\nbut Norah thought I improved with practice, and, anyway, it exercised my\nintelligence.\n\nI had failed to pass examination for the army, because of a defect,\nnegligible, it seemed to me, in my eyesight. I was deeply disappointed,\nbut as the law", "his eyes staring at the narrator\nof all this.\n\n\"Not to my knowledge. My realization of falling only lasted until I\nstruck the water in the sewer. That, doubtless, knocked me out for good\nand all,--mentally, I mean. I have to thank my wonderful vitality and\nstrong constitution for the fact that I really lived through the\ncatastrophe. Think what it means! Hurtled through that rushing torrent of\na sewer half filled with melted snow and water,--flung out into the\nriver, dashed about among the floating c", "-eyed and tearless, looking so\npathetically lonely and so unable to cope with her new responsibilities,\nthat I gladly promised her all possible assistance that I could give,\nboth in legal matters and in any personal or friendly ways.\n\n\"Don't think me helpless,\" she said, reading my thoughts; \"I shall rise\nto the situation, I shall adapt myself to my changed circumstances, but\nit will take a little time, of course.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" I agreed, \"and don't attempt to do too much at first. Take\nplenty of time", "dazed was my intelligence.\n\nAnd then, they assumed their individuality and I saw that Olive's lovely\ncountenance was a complete blank; like me, she failed to grasp the full\nmeaning of Rivers' confession.\n\nMrs. Vail, her eyes closed, lay back limply in a chair, and groaned\naudibly, while Norah buried her face in a nearby silken curtain and\nsobbed.\n\nPennington Wise looked like a man who has just heard the worst,--but who\nexpected it. However, the shock had", "something to tell, and she meant to have it told.\n\n\"I don't know, Miss Raynor,\" Talcott began, \"whether anything has\nhappened, or not. I mean, anything serious. We--that is,--we don't know\nwhere Mr. Gately is.\"\n\n\"Go on. That of itself doesn't explain your anxious faces.\"\n\nSo Talcott told her,--told her just what we knew ourselves, which was so\nlittle and yet so mysterious.\n\nOlive listened, her great, dark eyes widening with wonder", "home that night?\"\n\n\"No, I haven't. And we know he never reached his home. His rooms are in a\nhouse on Gramercy Park----\"\n\n\"That's why he got off at Twenty-second Street----\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. He left you there, didn't he?\"\n\n\"We both got off the car there. My own rooms are in the same locality.\nBut the snow squall was a whirlwind at the corner, and my glasses were so\ncovered with flakes that I couldn't see a thing for a", "as\nfrom a soul in mortal agony,--and said:\n\n\"I killed Amos Gately!\"\n\nI think the scene that followed this announcement was the strangest I\nhave ever experienced. For myself, I felt a sudden sinking, as if the\nbottom had fallen out of the universe. In fact, a whimsical idea flashed\nthrough my stunned brain that I was \"falling through the earth,\"--or into\na bottomless pit.\n\nThe white faces that I looked at meant nothing to me,--I saw them as in a\ndream, so", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "miracle, and only the most desperate efforts fanned that\nlittle spark into resuscitation. The rest you know. The shock, the\nexposure, the cold, and perhaps a blow or two on my head, all combined,\nresulted in a total loss of memory as to my identity or to the events of\nmy former life.\n\n\"I had only remaining the positive recollection of that fall--\" Manning\nshuddered,--\"that interminable, that never-ending fall through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"But you fell through water,\" said Wise,", ".\"\n\n\"You heard, then, angry voices?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, just that. And right straight afterward, a pistol shot.\"\n\n\"In Mr. Gately's room?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. And then I ran in there to see what it meant,----\"\n\n\"Weren't you frightened?\"\n\n\"No, sir; I didn't stop to think there was anything to be frightened of.\nBut when I got in there, and saw----\"\n\n\"Well, go on,--what did you see?\"\n\n\"A man,", "This window?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" and Jenny nodded at the clouded glass pane between her room\nand Mr. Gately's office. \"And I saw sort of shadows,--and then in a\nminute I saw the shadows get up--you know, Mr. Gately and another\nman,--and then,--I heard a pistol fired off, and I yelled!\"\n\n\"It was your scream I heard, then!\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Jenny replied, \"but I did scream, because I am fearfully\nscared of pistol shots", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "--unconscious.\"\n\nHe couldn't bring himself to speak the crueler word that was in both our\nminds, and he turned abruptly aside, as he went in search of the janitor\nor the superintendent of the building.\n\nLeft by myself I stared at the silent door. It was an ordinary-looking\ndoor, at the end of a small side passage which communicated with the main\nhall or lobby of the building. It was inconspicuous, and as the passage\nhad an angle in it, Amos Gately could easily have gone in and out of that\ndoor", "ed forth the actual murder of Amos\nGately. A strange thing, to be an eye-witness, and yet to witness only\nthe shadows of the actors in the scene!\n\nI strove to remember definitely the type of man who did the shooting.\nThat is, I supposed he did the shooting. As I ruminated, I realized I had\nno real knowledge of this. I saw the shadowed men rise, clinch, struggle,\nand disappear. Yes, I was positive they disappeared from my vision before\nI heard the shot. This argued, then, that they wrestled,--", "knocked senseless.\"\n\n\"Was he knocked senseless?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, but he was unconscious from cold and exposure and very\nnearly frozen to death.\"\n\n\"And his memory now?\"\n\n\"Is perfect in all respects, except he doesn't know who he is.\"\n\n\"A fishy tale!\"\n\n\"No; you won't say so after you've seen him. When I say his memory is\nperfect, I mean regarding what he has read or has studied. But it is his\npersonal recollections that have gone from him" ], [ "trusted by everybody. Rodman was an equal scoundrel, but he worked\ninconspicuously. Gately banked on his reputation for honor and\nprobity,--used his own well-earned fame to further the meanest cause on\nearth!\n\n\"Whatever happens, I'm glad he is unable to do further harm. I didn't\nmean to kill him--it was an accident,--but the world is well rid of him.\"\n\n\"Amen,\" said Olive, softly.\n\n\"Well, the end justifies the means,\" said", "idea of the details of the matter. We\ndidn't move the body, or examine it thoroughly, but the first glance\nshowed the truth. However, a doctor has been sent for, and the\nvice-president and secretary of the Trust Company have things in charge,\nso I came right up here to tell you people about it.\"\n\n\"And I thank you, Mr. Brice,\" Olive's lovely dark eyes gave me a grateful\nglance. \"What shall I do, Amory? Shall we go down there?\"\n\nManning hesitated. \"I will", "able reputation for integrity, and\nalso because of the infinite precautions he had taken. Indeed, if he had\nnot fallen a victim to the personal charms of 'The Link,' his share in\nthe wrong might never have been learned.\"\n\nOlive listened to all this, white-faced and still,--her lips a tense,\ndrawn line of scarlet,--her expression a stony calm.\n\nZizi, watching her closely, and with loving care, slipped her little\nbrown paw into Olive's hand, and noted with satisfaction the faint\nanswering smile", "pery sort. She pretends to speak frankly, but what she tells\nmeans little and is misleading.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"For the moment, down at Kenilworth House. Detained there till they're\nsure of the persons working with her.\"\n\n\"She'll get away,\" said Rivers, \"she ought to be in jail.\"\n\nNow it was a strange thing, but this casual prophecy of Rivers' was\nfulfilled the very next day!\n\nI was in my office, absorbedly conversing with Norah on the\nall", ".\n\n\"Not so very often, sir. Irregular like. Now, quite frequent, and then,\nagain, sort of seldom. Well, we can't open it, Mr. Talcott. These things\nwon't work, only just so. After anybody gets in, and shuts the door, it\ncan't be opened except by pressing a button on the inside. Can't you get\nin upstairs?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Talcott, shortly. \"Get help, then, and break the door down.\"\n\nThis was done, the splintered door fell", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "\"with an awful threat! I can't\nthink about it! Oh, I don't know what to do! I can't tell it--I can't\ntell it to anybody----\"\n\n\"Wait till you get home,\" I counseled her, and Rivers added, \"And wait\ntill Mr. Wise comes. He's the man you must tell, and he will advise you.\nBut, I say, we're getting at things, eh, Brice? 'The Link' under arrest,\nWise onto Rodman, and he won't", "ise arrived, and we\nall shamelessly ignored Mrs. Vail and her yarns to listen to his report.\n\n\"There's a lot doing,\" he said, \"and,\" he added, gently, \"I'm sorry to\nbring you unpleasant news, Miss Raynor, but you'll have to know sooner or\nlater----\"\n\n\"I do know,\" said Olive, bravely; \"you're going to tell me my guardian\nwas--was not a good man.\"\n\n\"That is so; it is useless to try to", "-engrossing subject of the Gately case, when Zizi dashed in.\n\n\"Alone I did it!\" she exclaimed, and tossing the folds of her voluminous\nblack cape over her shoulder, she folded her arms and assumed the\nattitude of Napoleon; scowling from under her heavy black brows, though\nher eyes were dancing.\n\n\"What have you done?\" I asked, while Norah gazed enchanted at the\ndramatic little figure.\n\n\"Returned the missing 'Link' to her rightful owners!\"\n\n\"What!", "yet, I longed for further news of the proceedings. So, I concluded to\nlook in at the Matteawan, and if that led me into the clutches of the\npolice inquisitors, I must submit. But, if I could get away before their\narrival, I should do so. I was quite willing to be called upon by them,\nand to tell all I knew, but I wanted to postpone that until the next day,\nif possible.\n\nNot wishing to obtrude my presence further on Miss Raynor, I went down in\nan", "just then.\n\n\"We have a new direction in which to look, though,\" Wise went on, \"and we\nmust get about it. You remember, we found a hatpin here that led us to\nSadie, 'The Link,' as straight as a signboard could have done.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" scoffed Zizi, \"with the help of Norah and her powder-paper, and\nJenny and her tattle-tongue!\"\n\n\"All right,\" Wise was unperturbed; \"we got her all the same. Now, perhaps\nthe", ".\n\n\"Thanks,\" she said, as she grasped it and plied it diligently; \"now, men,\nwe must get busy! It's after five o'clock, Olive went away before\nfour,--anything may have happened to her--we _must_ rescue her!\"\n\n\"We will!\" exclaimed Case Rivers, showing more energy than I knew he\npossessed. \"What about 'The Link,' Mr. Brice?\"\n\nAs quickly as I could, I detailed what had happened at the telegraph\noffice, where Sadie Kent had been taken", "at last tell a\nstraight and coherent story, but it threw no light on the mysterious\ncaller. In fact, Jenny knew nothing whatever of him, save that she saw or\nthought she saw him run downstairs, with a pistol in his hand.\n\n\"What sort of hat did the man wear?\" asked the Chief, to get some sort of\ndescription.\n\n\"I don't know,--a soft hat, I guess.\"\n\n\"Not a Derby?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! I do believe it _was_ a Derby! And he had on an over", ", but there was none in sight,\nand I felt pretty sure there was a blockade on the line. The streets\nshowed snowpiles, black and crusted, and the street cleaners were few and\nfar apart.\n\nThe car Manning and I managed to get onto was crowded to the doors. We\nboth stood, and there were just too many people between us to make\nconversation possible, but I nodded across and between the bobbing heads\nand faces, and Manning returned my greeting.\n\nStopping occasionally to let off some struggling, weary standees and to\n", "by a rubber band. He sorted them out on the desk.\n\nThey were sheets of paper of various styles, each bearing the address or\nescutcheon of some big city hotel. Many of the principal hostelries of\nNew York were represented among them. Each sheet bore a date stamped on\nit with an ordinary rubber dating-stamp.\n\n\"Important, if true,\" commented Wise.\n\n\"If what's true?\" asked Norah, bluntly.\n\n\"My deductions,\" he returned. \"These letters, if we can call them\nletters", "Mrs. Vail, a little\nhysterically. \"Why, once I heard of----\"\n\nRuthlessly, I shut her off.\n\n\"Accept my greetings, Mr. Manning,\" I said, offering my hand to our\nnew-found friend. \"I'm proud to know you!\"\n\nAnd then there was a scene of handshaking and smiling welcome such as any\nhero might be proud to receive.\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Manning said, at last, \"that day, I was hunting a paper,\nyou know. If it was sent off", "and Wise shook his head.\n\"There's no doubt about it in my mind. You see, 'The Link' usually took\nher news to Rodman and he secretly, and by means of the secret elevator,\ncarried it to Gately who gave it over to the agents of the German\nGovernment.\"\n\n\"Do you know this?\" asked Rivers.\n\n\"I couldn't get Rodman to admit it, but when I taxed him with something\nof the sort, he flew into such a rage that I'm sure I struck the truth.\"\n\n\"Where", ", as he gave an anxious glance at Jenny, \"I\nthink it well to take this young woman along, as she is the secretary of\nMr. Gately and may know----\"\n\n\"Oh, no, sir,\" cried Jenny, \"I don't know anything! Please don't ask me\nquestions!\"\n\nJenny's perturbation seemed to make Mr. Pitt's intentions more definite,\nand he corralled the young woman, as he also swept me along.\n\nIn a moment, we were all going into the offices of the Puritan Trust\nCompany", "\nGately, that Sadie said would blast his name forever. Olive seemed to\nunderstand just what these revelations were, for she didn't ask, but she\nwas scared to pieces, and was about ready to give in when I slid into the\ngame. But,--before I joined the confab I called up Penny Wise on an\nupstairs telephone and invited him to come along hastily and bring a\nsquad of policemen or something that could hold that 'Link'!\n\n\"Then I sauntered into the library, where the blackmailing session was\nbeing", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand" ], [ "for Heaven's sake, let's get\nout!\"\n\n\"Yes, in a minute, but let me think what you ought to do. And, oh, do let\nme take a minute to look round!\"\n\n\"No, girl; this is no time to satisfy your curiosity or, to enjoy a sight\nof these----\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mean that! But I want to see if there isn't some clew or\nsome bit of evidence to the whole thing. It is too weird! too impossible\nthat three people should have disappeared into nothingness! Where", "I was about! That I didn't!\"\n\n\"And yet,\" Norah remarked, quietly, \"after you went downstairs and these\ngentlemen found you in the lunchroom, you were perfectly calm and\ncollected----\"\n\n\"Nothing of the sort!\" blazed back Jenny; \"I'm all on edge! My nerves are\ncompletely unstrung!\"\n\n\"Quite so,\" said Mr. Talcott, kindly, \"and I suggest that you go back to\nthe lunchroom, Miss Jenny, and rest and calm yourself. But please remain\nthere, until", "Mr.\nGately's rooms, she could remain in my office with Norah, while we went.\n\nMrs. Vail insisted on being of the party, and ran briskly off to get her\nbonnet.\n\nThe atmosphere seemed peculiarly charged with a feeling of impending\ndisaster, and yet, not one of us would have held back. Pennington Wise\nwas very grave and quiet; Zizi, on the other hand, was as one\nelectrified. She sprang about with quick, darting motions, she giggled\nal", "'ve been nearly crazy!\"\n\nI think we all felt a sudden twinge of shame, for none of us had thought\nto relieve the poor lady's suspense as to Olive's fate! We ought to have\ntelephoned, at least. But she was now smiling and happy at the safe\nreturn of her charge and eager to know all the details of the adventure.\n\nBoth Olive and Zizi went off with Mrs. Vail, who was chattering volubly,\nand I was left alone with Rivers.\n\n\"The fight,--on which let me", ".\"\n\n\"They left room number three, as you entered number one,\" said Norah,\ncarefully thinking it out.\n\n\"That must be so, but where did they go? Why, if Mr. Gately went\ndownstairs, has he not been visible since? I can't help feeling that Amos\nGately is unable to move, for some reason or other. May he have been\nkidnaped? Or is he bound and gagged in some unused room, say on the floor\nbelow this?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Talcott, briefly. \"Without", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "added, because, I noticed,\nof an almost imperceptible nod from Wise in the elder lady's direction.\n\"We just simpully can't get along without you.\"\n\nPleased at the flattering necessity for her presence, Mrs. Vail went from\nthe room with the two girls. \"I'll be back,\" she called out to us, as she\nleft the room.\n\n\n\"She won't,\" said Wise, decidedly, after the sound of footsteps died\naway, \"Zizi'll look out for that. Now, Brice", ", miss!\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" and Jenny's saucy face looked serious enough now. \"But it was\nall so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I just\ncan't say what was so and what wasn't!\"\n\n\"That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think the\nmatter over, while I talk to your sister.\"\n\nMinny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. But\nafter all, she had little to tell. She had brought", "'m sure, why she's staying\nhere, but I like to have her. Well, in about two minutes she had the\nfurniture all changed about. Not the heavy pieces, of course, but she\nmoved a small table and all the chairs, and finally unscrewed an electric\nlight bulb from one place and put it on another, and then, after looking\nall about, she said, 'Just one thing more!' and if she didn't spring up\non to a table with one jump and take down quite a large picture! 'There,'\nshe said, and", "Rodman, however, was pulling himself together and we were of one mind as\nto our next procedure, which was to get Olive Raynor away from that\nhouse.\n\n\"Beat it,\" Wise decreed; \"you're a good one, Mr. Rivers! My hat's off to\nyou. Now, if you're fit, and you look it, will you and Mr. Brice take\nMiss Raynor home, and I'll stay here and clear up this little\ndisturbance. Hop along with them, Ziz; I'll join you all at", "with the crush of people slowly surging toward the\ndoor.\n\nI walked home, the clear, frosty air feeling grateful after the crowded\nrooms.\n\nAnd I wondered. Wondered what would be the next scene in the awful drama.\nWould they accuse Miss Raynor,--lovely Olive Raynor, of the crime? How\ncould they? That delicate, high-bred girl!\n\nAnd yet, she was independent of thought and fearless of action.\n\nThough I knew her but slightly, I had heard more or less about her, and I\nhad learned she", "pery sort. She pretends to speak frankly, but what she tells\nmeans little and is misleading.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"For the moment, down at Kenilworth House. Detained there till they're\nsure of the persons working with her.\"\n\n\"She'll get away,\" said Rivers, \"she ought to be in jail.\"\n\nNow it was a strange thing, but this casual prophecy of Rivers' was\nfulfilled the very next day!\n\nI was in my office, absorbedly conversing with Norah on the\nall", "no one up in her\nelevator to see Mr. Gately beside Miss Raynor that she knew of except the\nman named Smith and Mrs. Driggs.\n\n\"Did these people all go down in your car, too?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure. The cars were fairly crowded, and I know Miss Raynor did\nnot, but I'm not so sure about the others.\"\n\nWell, Minny's evidence amounted to nothing, either, for though she told\nof several strangers who got on or off her car at various floors, she\nknew nothing about", "irled round the slender figure as she flung one end over her shoulder.\n\nShe flew to a mirror, and was dabbing her straight little nose with a\npowder-puff as she talked.\n\n\"We'll all go down there, and I don't think we'll have to look any\nfurther. Miss Olive is there,--I'm dead sure! Held by the enemy! But\nshe's game, and I don't believe we'll be too late, if we hustle like a\nhouse afire!\"\n\nAnd", "ly. Then, probably realizing that for Olive\nto remain behind would be harder than to face whatever might happen, she\nsaid, quite casually, \"Very well, Miss Raynor, let us all go.\"\n\nI think we were all imbued with a sense of fear, a sort of premonition\nthat the visit across the hall would be productive of grave results.\n\nRivers was the most light-hearted of the party, and yet I somehow felt\nthat his cheerfulness was forced.\n\n\"The keys, Brice?\" he said; \"oh, you have them", "And\nthen she--oh, I suppose she hadn't any right to do it,--but she ran on to\nhis own personal room,--the one where she is never allowed to go,--and\nthere wasn't anybody there! So Jenny was scared out of her senses, and\nshe ran out here,--to the hall, I mean,--and I took her downstairs,--and\noh, Mr. Brice, I've got to stop at this floor,--there's a call,--and\nplease don't say anything about it,--I mean don'", "by demanding my time and\nattention for himself, instead of allowing me to entertain my guests\nproperly.\"\n\n\"Doubtless so you wouldn't do it again.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. But all that was uncomfortable for me,--almost\nunbearable,--yet one doesn't kill one's people for such things.\"\n\nTo me this simple statement of Olive Raynor's was more convincing than a\nstorm of denial. She had stormed, with indignation, at the hint of\nsuspicion, but her quiet", ".\n\n\"Oh, everybody,\" she cried, in a whirl of excitement, \"Olive's gone!\nShe's kidnaped or abducted or something. A telephone message came and she\nflew off, telling nobody but Mrs. Vail, and telling her not to tell!\"\n\n\"Where's she gone?\" I cried, flinging back into my coat.\n\n\"Nobody knows. I only got it out of Mrs. Vail this minute, and then only\nby threatening her with all sorts of horrors if she didn't tell me. She\n", "want to ask anyone else I know to do so.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" I replied, instinctively treating the matter casually, for I\nsaw she was deeply moved. \"It will be merely a form, but it is better to\nfeel we have made every possible inquiry and left no stone unturned. I\nwill go there at once,--now, if you say so.\"\n\nShe seemed gratified at my prompt compliance, and urged my going\nimmediately.\n\n\"Come back this evening and report,\" she said, and then, with one of\nthose", "you have won yourself!\" exclaimed Penny Wise.\n\n\"Yes,\" chuckled Zizi, \"and you've won the reward offered for Mr.\nGately's--\" she hesitated,--\"for the man who freed the world of one more\ntraitorous viper!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally,\" I added, \"you've cleared up the puzzle of the man\nwho fell through the earth!\"\n\n\"It is well that Gately is no more,\" Manning said, musingly; \"he was\nespecially dangerous because he was in such a high position and so\n" ], [ "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "'s discretion, and I was pretty positive he'd find out\nsomething,--if there were anything worth finding out.\n\nAnd there was!\n\n\nRodman, by good luck, was out and his offices locked. Hudson gently\npersuaded the locks to let go their grip, and, for he let me go with him,\nwe went in.\n\nThe first thing that hit me in the eyes, was a big war map on the wall.\nMoreover, though not a duplicate of Mr. Gately's map, it was similar, and\nit hung in a", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "must know what they find out\nwhen they do come.\"\n\nI went out into the hall and pushed the \"Down\" button of the elevator.\n\n\"Be careful,\" Norah warned me, as the car was heard ascending, \"say very\nlittle, Mr. Brice, except to the proper authorities. This may be a\nterrible thing, and you mustn't get mixed up in it until you know more\nabout it. You were not only the first to discover the disappearance,--but\nyou and I are apparently the only ones in this corridor who know of it\ny", ".\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" laughed Rivers, \"I've been trying to connect up with\nthe missing Manning myself, but I can't work it. So, I'm out for the\nreward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he's gone beyond\nrecall.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Wise put in, \"I've found out who offers the reward. And, if\nyou please, it's none other than the United States Government!\"\n\n\"Why?\" Rivers asked, interestedly.\n\n\"Well, it seems M", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "worthwhile individuality for himself yet.\n\nNorah, too, admired him, and seemed to know as much of his capabilities,\nor more, than I did myself.\n\n\"I don't know just what sort of work, but I think it's connected with the\nmysteries we're up against ourselves. And I know about him, because Zizi\ntold me. She sees everything he does,--when she's with him, I mean. Not a\ngesture or motion escapes her notice. And she's watching his attitude\ntoward Miss", "something to tell, and she meant to have it told.\n\n\"I don't know, Miss Raynor,\" Talcott began, \"whether anything has\nhappened, or not. I mean, anything serious. We--that is,--we don't know\nwhere Mr. Gately is.\"\n\n\"Go on. That of itself doesn't explain your anxious faces.\"\n\nSo Talcott told her,--told her just what we knew ourselves, which was so\nlittle and yet so mysterious.\n\nOlive listened, her great, dark eyes widening with wonder", "it.\"\n\nWe all studied it. Olive, Zizi, Wise, and I bent our heads over the table\nwhere it lay, while Mrs. Vail looked on from a little distance, and\nbabbled about some man she knew once, who could solve secret writings.\n\nSuddenly Zizi jumped up, and running around the table, viewed the paper\nfrom the other side.\n\nShe cocked her funny little head sidewise, and then wagged it knowingly\nas she took a few steps further and looked at the paper from another\nangle. All round the", "\"with an awful threat! I can't\nthink about it! Oh, I don't know what to do! I can't tell it--I can't\ntell it to anybody----\"\n\n\"Wait till you get home,\" I counseled her, and Rivers added, \"And wait\ntill Mr. Wise comes. He's the man you must tell, and he will advise you.\nBut, I say, we're getting at things, eh, Brice? 'The Link' under arrest,\nWise onto Rodman, and he won't", "I\nfirst saw the shadows until the moment when I went down in the elevator\nand met Mr. Pitt.\n\nHe listened with deepest attention, and then, seemingly unimpressed by my\nstory, began to question Jenny.\n\nThis volatile young lady had regained her mental balance, and was more\nthan ready to dilate upon her experiences.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" she said, \"I was sitting at my desk, and nobody had come in\nfor an hour or so, when, all of a sudden, I heard talking in Mr. Gately's\nroom.\"\n\n\"", "And rising, she went swiftly across the room, to a\ndesk, and from a pigeonhole took an opened letter, which she carried to\nWise, and then dropped back into her seat again.\n\nMrs. Vail gave a surprised gasp, and Olive looked her amazement.\n\n\"How did you know where to find that?\" she exclaimed, her great brown\neyes wide with wonder.\n\n\"Dead easy,\" said Zizi, nonchalantly; \"you've scarcely taken your eyes\noff that spot, Miss Raynor, since the", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "\n\n\"When you drew the snow crystal!\" Zizi cried.\n\n\"Yes,\" he smiled. \"And then, I saw something that hinted a possible\nhiding-place--ah, here it is!\"\n\nHe stepped to the desk and picked up the heavy, ornate gold penholder. He\nfussed with it a moment, and then, unscrewing it in the middle, showed\nthat it was a cleverly constructed place to hide a tiny roll of thin\npaper.\n\nThere was such a roll in it, and pulling it out, Manning grinned with\ngle", "me, in that case, he would\nhave been sought and found by the people who had him in charge.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's the point of it all! They don't want to find him! They know\njust where he is, and all about him, but they won't tell, for it suits\ntheir base purposes to have him lost!\"\n\n\"Well, you _have_ cooked up a scheme! And he killed Amos Gately?\"\n\n\"Maybe, but if so, he did it unknowingly. Perhaps these people who are\nlooking after him, secret", "would rather be told\nabruptly, like that, than to have me mince matters.\n\nAnd I was right, for she said, quickly, \"Tell it all,--any knowledge is\nbetter than suspense.\"\n\nSo I told her, as gently as I could, of our discovery of the body of Amos\nGately in his private elevator, at the bottom of the shaft.\n\n\"But I don't understand,\" said Manning. \"Shot through the heart and alone\nin the elevator?\"\n\n\"That's the way it is. I've no", "I can't tell about that----\"\n\n\"You said you weren't, and then he whispered to you, and then you said\nyou were,\" went on Zizi, remorselessly reviewing the scene.\n\n\"I know it,--but--oh, don't ask me! Perhaps, I'll tell--later,--if I have\nto,--but--I can't--I can't.\"\n\nOlive's head drooped on Zizi's shoulder, and the eerie little voice said,\n\"There, there,--don", "as a\nfirst bit of information.\n\n\"Oh, yes, she will,\" and Penny Wise winked at the girl. He really gave a\nvery knowing wink, as who should say: \"We understand each other.\"\n\nAs they had never met before, I watched to see just how Jenny would take\nit, and to my surprise she looked decidedly frightened.\n\nWise saw this too,--doubtless he brought about the effect purposely,--but\nin a moment Jenny regained her poise and was her saucy self again.\n\n\"I don", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "Raynor. She says,--Zizi does,--that Mr. Rivers is over head\nand ears in love with Olive, but he won't tell her so because he is, as\nhe puts it, a self-named man! Zizi heard him call himself that when\ntalking to Miss Raynor, and then he just looked away, and resolutely\nchanged the subject. But she thinks,--Zizi does,--that he's working night\nand day to find out who he is, and she's sure he'll find out. And also,\nhe's working" ], [ "his eyes staring at the narrator\nof all this.\n\n\"Not to my knowledge. My realization of falling only lasted until I\nstruck the water in the sewer. That, doubtless, knocked me out for good\nand all,--mentally, I mean. I have to thank my wonderful vitality and\nstrong constitution for the fact that I really lived through the\ncatastrophe. Think what it means! Hurtled through that rushing torrent of\na sewer half filled with melted snow and water,--flung out into the\nriver, dashed about among the floating c", "\n\nThis alarmed me a little, for to my mind, it argued him a guilty man,\nand, that, in fact, he had declared himself to be.\n\nNorah and I exchanged glances of understanding,--or, rather, of not\nunderstanding,--and Manning began his story.\n\n\"I think I will begin right here,\" he said, in a slow, methodical way,\nand with the air of one who has a disagreeable duty to perform, but who\nhas no intention of shirking any part of it.\n\n\"I remember everything", "story.\n\n\"Excuse me, Mrs. Vail,\" he interrupted her, \"but, really, I must run away\nnow, and I want a word or two with Mr. Rivers first.\"\n\nThe good lady subsided, but it was plain to be seen she was disappointed.\n\n\"May I come in?\" and a smiling Olive appeared in the doorway. \"Am I\nwanted?\"\n\n\"Are you wanted?\" the eager, hungry smile Rivers gave her was pathetic.\nFor it was so spontaneous, so gladly welcoming that it was as if a light\n", "man, who is being looked\nup.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's all a great game! I wish I could get out into the world and\ntake part in such things!\"\n\n\"You will, old man. Once you're fairly started, the world will be----\"\n\n\"My cellar-door! You bet it will! I'm going to slide right down it.\"\n\n\"What about your falling through it? Do you remember any more details of\nthat somewhat--er--unusual performance?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do! And you can laugh all you like", "him alive, I heard, and his memory is completely\nbusted. It would be a godsend to him if you could identify him. I ask\neverybody to take a look on the chance. Somehow, I'm sorry for him.\"\n\nI wasn't especially interested, but being thus appealed to in the\ninterests of humanity, I went over to the hospital, and had no difficulty\nin gaining a sight of the patient in question. Indeed, the doctors were\nmost anxious for visitors to see him, hoping that someone might identify\nthe man.\n\nMy first glance convinced me it", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "whom you\nhave in mind, and you don't know whom I have in mind, so we'll play the\ngame this way: I'll say, 'I know she is a clever woman.' Now you make a\ntruthful statement about her.\"\n\nEnthralled by his manner, Jenny said, almost involuntarily, \"I know she\nis a wrong one!\"\n\n\"I know she's pretty,\" said Wise.\n\n\"I know she isn't!\" snapped Jenny.\n\n\"I know she is black-haired and dresses well and owns", "\nthat I love that girl. She is, to me, the very crown of womanhood. I have\nworshiped her from the first moment I saw her. But, understand, I have no\nhopes,--no aspirations. I shall never offer my hand and heart to any\nwoman while I have no name to offer. And I shall never have a name. If I\nhaven't yet discovered my own identity I never can. No, I'm no pessimist,\nand I know that some time some sudden shock might restore my memory all\nin a minute, yet I", ".\"\n\n\"You heard, then, angry voices?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, just that. And right straight afterward, a pistol shot.\"\n\n\"In Mr. Gately's room?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. And then I ran in there to see what it meant,----\"\n\n\"Weren't you frightened?\"\n\n\"No, sir; I didn't stop to think there was anything to be frightened of.\nBut when I got in there, and saw----\"\n\n\"Well, go on,--what did you see?\"\n\n\"A man,", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "\nfeathers of some tropical bird, I suppose. The hat set jauntily on her\nsleek black hair, and the motions of her head were so quick and birdlike,\nthat she gave me a fleeting remembrance of the human birds I saw in the\nplay of _Chantecler_.\n\n\"Of course he did,\" assented Wise, very gravely; \"and now we must go on.\nGranting, for the moment, that Case Rivers,--as we call him,--drew this\nlittle sketch, he must have been in this office", "of a totally different caliber,\ndue, no doubt, to a certain vacuity made in my brain by the loss of my\nmemory. Oh, well, that's the story. And but for my peculiarity of drawing\nsnow crystals,--a thing I've done just about all my life,--and but for\nZizi's quick-witted realization of this habit of mine, I might never have\nregained consciousness of my true personality!\"\n\n\"Probably something else would have brought it about,\" said Wise, \"but\nyour drawing of the snow crystals began", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand", "worthwhile individuality for himself yet.\n\nNorah, too, admired him, and seemed to know as much of his capabilities,\nor more, than I did myself.\n\n\"I don't know just what sort of work, but I think it's connected with the\nmysteries we're up against ourselves. And I know about him, because Zizi\ntold me. She sees everything he does,--when she's with him, I mean. Not a\ngesture or motion escapes her notice. And she's watching his attitude\ntoward Miss", "was untruthful it was\nbecause his unjust rules and regulations made me so! I am not a\nstory-teller, ordinarily. If I was forced to be one, in order to enjoy\nsome simple pleasures or diversions, it is no one's business but my own.\"\n\n\"That's true, Hudson,\" I interposed, \"why constitute yourself Miss\nRaynor's Sunday-School teacher?\"\n\n\"Sorry I am to do so,\" and the good-natured face showed real regret; \"but\nI've orders. Now, Miss", ", and seemed a\nhelpless, hopeless victim of the man who held her.\n\n\"Are you engaged to me?\" Rodman said, looking at Olive, with a\nthreatening scowl.\n\n\"Yes,\" she managed to whisper, but so agonized was her face that it was\npalpable she spoke under coercion.\n\nI was uncertain what to do; Wise, too, looked nonplussed, but Rivers,\nthough a stranger to Olive, seemed imbued with an irresistible chivalry,\nand drawing nearer", "cleaner if he had seen him.\n\n\"Naw,\" he said, blowing on his cold fingers, \"naw, didn't see nobody.\nCan't see nothin' in this here black squall!\"\n\nAnd that's just what it was. A sudden fierce whirlwind, a maelstrom of\ntossing flakes, and a black lowering darkness that seemed to envelop\neverything.\n\n\"Mad Mary,\" the great clock nearby, boomed out five solemn notes that\nsomehow added to the weirdness of the moment, and I", ", miss!\"\n\n\"I'm not,\" and Jenny's saucy face looked serious enough now. \"But it was\nall so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I just\ncan't say what was so and what wasn't!\"\n\n\"That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think the\nmatter over, while I talk to your sister.\"\n\nMinny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. But\nafter all, she had little to tell. She had brought", "his head determinedly; \"I may\nnot be in the van, just at first, but give me half a chance, and I'll\nmake good!\"\n\nThis was not bumptiousness or braggadocio, I could see, but an earnest\ndetermination. The man was sincere and he had a certain doggedness of\npurpose, which was evident in his looks and manner as well as in his\nwords.\n\nRivers was up and dressed now, and I saw he was a good-looking chap. His\nlight-brown hair was carefully", "honestly, Mr. Brice, she keeps my spirits up, and she is so positive\nherself of what she says that she almost convinces me. As for Mrs. Vail,\nshe swallows everything Zizi says for law and gospel!\"\n\n\"And just what is it you say, now, Zizi?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nothin' much, kind sir. Only that Case Rivers is a gentleman and a\nscholar, that his memory is on the home stretch and humming along, and\nthat if he's after a paper,--he'll get" ], [ "I trembled for Rivers'\nsafety. Rodman was a formidable antagonist, and far heavier than the\ngaunt man who met and returned his blows.\n\nBut Rivers was skilled, and made up in technique what he lacked in\nstrength.\n\nSo desperate was the struggle, so blindly furious the two men, that\nPennington Wise and I were fearful of results. With a simultaneous\nimpulse we made a dash to separate the combatants, but were obliged to\nget back quickly to save ourselves from the rain of blows", "Rivers, his innate desire to protect a woman in distress showing in his\nrepressed eagerness to get at Rodman.\n\n\"You mind your own business!\" shouted Rodman, angrily, as he put out his\narm and drew Olive to him. \"You're mine, now, aren't you, dearie?\"\n\nThe disgust on the girl's face, and the shrinking of her form as she\ntried to draw away from the leering face so near hers was too much for\nRivers. He assumed a threatening attitude, and said, \"You", "--and he began to talk more politely and\nvery seriously. He said, if I would call off Mr. Wise and make no further\neffort to run down my uncle's murderer, he would send me home safely, and\nmolest me no further. I wouldn't agree to this; and then he grew ugly\nagain, and lost his temper, and--oh, he talked dreadfully!\" Olive\nshuddered at the recollection, and her lips quivered.\n\nWith quick sympathy, Zizi moved noiselessly from her place, and, kne", "whom you\nhave in mind, and you don't know whom I have in mind, so we'll play the\ngame this way: I'll say, 'I know she is a clever woman.' Now you make a\ntruthful statement about her.\"\n\nEnthralled by his manner, Jenny said, almost involuntarily, \"I know she\nis a wrong one!\"\n\n\"I know she's pretty,\" said Wise.\n\n\"I know she isn't!\" snapped Jenny.\n\n\"I know she is black-haired and dresses well and owns", "to him, good and plenty, Mr. Rivers,\" she fairly crowed; \"it\nwas a treat to see you put it all over him! Now, you've knocked him out\nphysically, Penny Wise will mop up the floor with him mentally and\nmorally! What did he do to you, Miss Olive? Why did he make you say you\nwere his girl?\"\n\nThe look of agony returned to Olive's face, as if she had just\nrecollected what the man had said to her.\n\n\"He threatened me,\" she said, slowly;", "was by no means of a yielding or easily swayed\ndisposition. She deeply resented her guardian's tyrannical treatment of\nher and had not infrequently told him so. While they were not outwardly\nat odds, they were uncongenial natures, and of widely divergent tastes.\n\nOlive, as is natural for a young girl, wanted guests and gayety. Mr.\nGately, a thoroughly selfish man, preferred quiet and freedom from\ncompany. Her insistence met with refusal and the results were often\ndistressing to both of them", "Amos Gately, as I had so\noften seen it pictured. The other was merely a human shadow with no\nstriking characteristics.\n\nIt was evident their interview was not amicable. I heard a loud,\nexplosive \"No!\" from one or other of them, and then both figures rose and\nthere was a hand-to-hand struggle. Their voices indicated a desperate\nquarrel, though no words were distinguishable.\n\nAnd then, as I looked, the shadows blurred into one\nanother,--swayed,--separated, and then", "\nThis I did, patiently answering repeated questions and asseverating\nfacts.\n\nBut I could give no hint as to the identity, or even as to the appearance\nof the man who quarreled with Mr. Gately. I could, and did say that he\nseemed to be a burly figure, or, at least, the shadow showed a large\nframe and broad shoulders.\n\n\"Had he a hat on?\" asked the Chief.\n\n\"No; and I should say he had either a large head or thick, bushy hair,\nfor the shadow showed that", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", ", and seemed a\nhelpless, hopeless victim of the man who held her.\n\n\"Are you engaged to me?\" Rodman said, looking at Olive, with a\nthreatening scowl.\n\n\"Yes,\" she managed to whisper, but so agonized was her face that it was\npalpable she spoke under coercion.\n\nI was uncertain what to do; Wise, too, looked nonplussed, but Rivers,\nthough a stranger to Olive, seemed imbued with an irresistible chivalry,\nand drawing nearer", "\n\nThis alarmed me a little, for to my mind, it argued him a guilty man,\nand, that, in fact, he had declared himself to be.\n\nNorah and I exchanged glances of understanding,--or, rather, of not\nunderstanding,--and Manning began his story.\n\n\"I think I will begin right here,\" he said, in a slow, methodical way,\nand with the air of one who has a disagreeable duty to perform, but who\nhas no intention of shirking any part of it.\n\n\"I remember everything", "take your hands\noff that lady! She doesn't want----\"\n\nIn defiance, Rodman drew Olive nearer, and raising her bowed head was\nabout to kiss her angry, beautiful face, when she uttered a despairing\nscream.\n\nThat was the match in the powder-keg!\n\nUnable to hold back longer, Rivers sprang forward and wrenched Olive from\nRodman's grasp.\n\nWith a snarl, Rodman lunged at Rivers, who deftly stopped him with an\nuppercut. Rodman came back with", "was untruthful it was\nbecause his unjust rules and regulations made me so! I am not a\nstory-teller, ordinarily. If I was forced to be one, in order to enjoy\nsome simple pleasures or diversions, it is no one's business but my own.\"\n\n\"That's true, Hudson,\" I interposed, \"why constitute yourself Miss\nRaynor's Sunday-School teacher?\"\n\n\"Sorry I am to do so,\" and the good-natured face showed real regret; \"but\nI've orders. Now, Miss", "cleaner if he had seen him.\n\n\"Naw,\" he said, blowing on his cold fingers, \"naw, didn't see nobody.\nCan't see nothin' in this here black squall!\"\n\nAnd that's just what it was. A sudden fierce whirlwind, a maelstrom of\ntossing flakes, and a black lowering darkness that seemed to envelop\neverything.\n\n\"Mad Mary,\" the great clock nearby, boomed out five solemn notes that\nsomehow added to the weirdness of the moment, and I", "cheerfully, \"I'm sure it will come, some day. Until then I shall be Case\nRivers, and if I die under the name, I'll try, at least, not to disgrace\nit.\"\n\n\"You didn't disgrace it today,\" I said, heartily. \"You put up a\nfirst-class fight, and in a righteous cause.\"\n\n\"I couldn't stand it to see Miss Raynor bullied by that brute,\" he\nreturned, simply, \"and then, too, I felt a natural antagonism", "clenched fist in my face. \"Mr.\nBadman Brice, you've got a lot of follow-up thinks a-coming to you, and\nyou'd better begin 'em right now!\"\n\nShe looked like a little fury as she danced around my chair and exploded\nthe vials of her wrath. \"That Mr. Rivers is a perfectly good man,--I\nknow! He and Miss Olive are in love,--but they don't hardly know it\nthemselves,--bless 'em! And Mr. Rivers he won't", "a smashing facer, and Rivers replied in\nkind.\n\nZizi, who had flown to Olive's side, and was tenderly soothing her,\nwatched the two men, breathlessly. Something savage in her nature\nresponded to the combat, and she flushed and paled alternately as one or\nthe other of the angry men seemed to have the upper hand.\n\nOlive hid her face in her hands, not wanting to look, but Zizi was with\nthe fight, heart and soul.\n\nIt was give and take, with such rapidity that", "at last tell a\nstraight and coherent story, but it threw no light on the mysterious\ncaller. In fact, Jenny knew nothing whatever of him, save that she saw or\nthought she saw him run downstairs, with a pistol in his hand.\n\n\"What sort of hat did the man wear?\" asked the Chief, to get some sort of\ndescription.\n\n\"I don't know,--a soft hat, I guess.\"\n\n\"Not a Derby?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! I do believe it _was_ a Derby! And he had on an over", ", myself,\nam the answer to all three questions.\"\n\nA silence fell; and then Olive spoke.\n\n\"You are no slayer,--you are no murderer. You shot Mr. Gately by\naccident, in the pursuance of your duty. You are not only exonerated, but\nyou did a deed, in freeing the world of a traitor, that entitles you to a\nDistinguished Service Cross! I respected my guardian,--I was fond of\nhim,--but now I know what he was. I have only cont" ], [ "and sub-basement, but\ncouldn't find it. Greatly puzzled, I began the search all over again, and\nthen, Olive,--Miss Raynor, came, and--later, I found that others had\ndiscovered the dead body of the man I had shot.\n\n\"I waited only to be sure of this, and then started at once to report to\nthe Federal Bureau.\"\n\n\"I know it,\" I interrupted, unable to keep quiet, as the recollection\nsurged over me, \"and you went down Third Avenue on the street-car", "motions, Zizi put the telephone receiver\ninto his left hand, which involuntarily opened to take it, and thus\nexposed to view the snow crystal drawn on the blotter.\n\nA dead silence fell on us all as Rivers sat there staring at the little\nsketch. He fairly devoured it with his eyes, his face, meanwhile,\nbecoming set,--like a face of stone.\n\nThen, raising his blank, staring eyes, his gaze sought out Olive and,\nlooking straight at her, he gave a low, piercing cry,--wrung from him", "eyes had a far-away, vacant gaze.\n\"I don't know who he is, but he is the man who shot Mr. Gately.\"\n\n\"Oh, come, now, Ziz,\" Wise shook her gently, \"wake up! Don't jump at\nconclusions. He may be the most innocent man in New York. He may have\nbeen in here calling on Gately early in the day, and his errand may have\nbeen of the most casual sort. He may have had cause to telephone, and as\nhe sat waiting for his call, he", "his eyes staring at the narrator\nof all this.\n\n\"Not to my knowledge. My realization of falling only lasted until I\nstruck the water in the sewer. That, doubtless, knocked me out for good\nand all,--mentally, I mean. I have to thank my wonderful vitality and\nstrong constitution for the fact that I really lived through the\ncatastrophe. Think what it means! Hurtled through that rushing torrent of\na sewer half filled with melted snow and water,--flung out into the\nriver, dashed about among the floating c", "me with his sharp\nblue eye, \"that you are not reconstructing this affair in the light of\nthe later discovery of Mr. Gately's fate?\"\n\nI thought this over carefully before replying, and then said: \"It's quite\npossible I may have unconsciously done so. But I distinctly saw the two\nfigures come together in a desperate struggle, then disappear, doubtless\ninto the third room, and then I heard the shot. That is all I can state\npositively.\"\n\n\"You, then, went right across the hall and tried to enter?\"", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "now,\" he said, \"Miss Raynor is waiting for me. I'll see you again,\ntonight, Brice.\" And with a general nod of farewell he went off.\n\nZizi sat staring at my desk.\n\nThe strange child was thinking of something,--more, she had made a\ndiscovery, or had sensed some new information.\n\nShe leaned over the desk, her outstretched hands resting on the big\nblotter and her black eyes wide with an expression of surprised fear.\n\n\"Look!\" she cried; \"look!\"\n\nBut her sl", "\n\n\"I will call Mr. Gately's physician,\" he said, his mind working quickly,\nas he paused a moment, \"and you will break the news to Miss Raynor, you\nsay? I can't seem to comprehend it all! But my place is by Mr. Gately and\nI will go there at once.\"\n\nSo I hastened up to the twelfth floor again, trying, on the way, to think\nhow I should best tell the awful story.\n\nThe elevator ride had never seemed so short,--the floors fairly flew past\nme, and", "\n\n\"You are?\" and Hudson looked at me keenly. \"Well, perhaps we'll try you\nout on that.\"\n\nThey had a definite suspect, then. And they proposed to experiment with\nmy memory. Well, I was ready, whenever they were.\n\nNorah and I went into the third room, Hudson making no objection. At\nanother time we would have been deeply interested in the pictures and the\nfurnishings but now we had eyes and thoughts only for one thing.\n\nWe looked behind the war map and saw the elevator door, but could not", "that the position of the body on the floor indicated an\ninstantaneous death from a shot through the heart.\n\nAnd then the janitor bestirred himself, and said he could give us the use\nof a vacant office on the ground floor, and we went in there,--all except\nthe doctor, who remained by the elevator.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott agreed that the police must be notified and\nthey declared their willingness to stay for their arrival. But the\nvice-president told Miss Raynor she could go home if she preferred to.\n\n\"", ", to say, secret, exactly, but it\nwas a private elevator.\"\n\n\"But a concealed door in his own office makes the thing pretty secret, I\nshould say.\"\n\n\"Secret it is, then. But it's no crime for a man to have a concealed way\nof gettin' into or out of his own rooms, is it? Many's the time Mr.\nGately's come down laughing fit to bust at the way he got away from some\nold doddering fool who wanted to buzz him to death!\"\n\n\"You frequently saw him come", "room, appraisingly, his\nquick, darting glance taking in every detail, he scanned the desk and all\nthe things on it, he looked through into the farther room,--the Blue\nRoom,--and saw the great war map hanging on the wall, and then he rose,\nstraightened his broad shoulders, and shook himself as one who arouses\nfrom sleep.\n\nBreathlessly, we who watched, saw a great light come into his eyes,--a\nnew self-respect, a new sense of importance showed in his whole bearing\nand, with a smile", "at her remark, and she\nlooked around in bewilderment.\n\n\"She's right,\" said Manning, smiling; \"I was. You see, when I became a\nSecret Service man, I had certain peculiar duties assigned me and it was\nimportant that I shouldn't be known. So I adopted a permanent\ndisguise,--oh, nothing much,--merely a mild dye for my hair and beard,\nwhich washed off easily, and a pair of big, horn-rimmed specs, which were\nreally rather becoming than otherwise. But Olive,", "three doors had an upper panel of thick, clouded glass,\nand, as the hall was not yet lighted and Mr. Gately's rooms were, I could\nsee quite plainly the shadows of two heads on the middle door,--the door\nnumbered two.\n\nPerhaps I am unduly curious, perhaps it was merely a natural interest,\nbut I stood still a moment, outside my own door, and watched the two\nshadowed heads.\n\nThe rippled clouding of the glass made their outlines somewhat vague, but\nI could distinguish the fine, thick mane of", "something to tell, and she meant to have it told.\n\n\"I don't know, Miss Raynor,\" Talcott began, \"whether anything has\nhappened, or not. I mean, anything serious. We--that is,--we don't know\nwhere Mr. Gately is.\"\n\n\"Go on. That of itself doesn't explain your anxious faces.\"\n\nSo Talcott told her,--told her just what we knew ourselves, which was so\nlittle and yet so mysterious.\n\nOlive listened, her great, dark eyes widening with wonder", "though I\ncouldn't say which was attacker and which attacked,--then they rushed to\nthe next room, where the elevator was concealed by the big map; and then,\nin that room, the shot was fired that ended Amos Gately's life.\n\nThis must be the truth, for I heard only one shot, and it must have been\nthe fatal one.\n\nThen, I could only think that the murderer had deliberately,--no, not\ndeliberately, but with exceeding haste,--had put his victim in the\nelevator and sent", ".\"\n\n\"You heard, then, angry voices?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, just that. And right straight afterward, a pistol shot.\"\n\n\"In Mr. Gately's room?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. And then I ran in there to see what it meant,----\"\n\n\"Weren't you frightened?\"\n\n\"No, sir; I didn't stop to think there was anything to be frightened of.\nBut when I got in there, and saw----\"\n\n\"Well, go on,--what did you see?\"\n\n\"A man,", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "down faster by the stairs. But\nafter running down two flights, I saw a waiting elevator and got in. I\nhad dropped my pistol somewhere when trying to stuff it into my overcoat\npocket as I ran downstairs. But I gave no thought to anything save\npreventing the escape of my prisoner. Of course, I didn't then know how\nseriously he was hurt.\n\n\"I failed to find the exit from the private elevator, and never dreaming\nit was in the building next door, I hunted this building for quite a\ntime. I investigated the ground floor, the basement" ], [ "quainted in New York, and he----\"\nhere Olive broke down utterly and fell into a hysterical burst of\nweeping.\n\nZizi rose and gently urged Olive to go with her from the room.\n\nA silence fell as the two girls disappeared. It was broken by Mrs. Vail,\nwho remarked, dolefully, \"I do hope that nice Mr. Rivers will come back,\nfor dear Olive is _so_ in love with him.\"\n\n\"What!\" cried Pennington Wise, \"Miss Raynor in love with Rivers! That\nwill never", "clenched fist in my face. \"Mr.\nBadman Brice, you've got a lot of follow-up thinks a-coming to you, and\nyou'd better begin 'em right now!\"\n\nShe looked like a little fury as she danced around my chair and exploded\nthe vials of her wrath. \"That Mr. Rivers is a perfectly good man,--I\nknow! He and Miss Olive are in love,--but they don't hardly know it\nthemselves,--bless 'em! And Mr. Rivers he won't", "waits for me to\nbe a silly again!\"\n\n\"But she hasn't seen Rivers half a dozen times,\" I said, smiling at\nZizi's flight of imagination.\n\n\"That's nothing,\" she scoffed; \"if ever there was a case of love at first\nsight, those two have got it! They don't really know it themselves yet,\nbut if Amory Manning wants Miss Olive, he'd better come out of hiding and\nwin her while the winning's good! And it's my belief he'd be too late\n", "respect Mr. Manning as a friend, but that is all.\" And then a lovely\nblush suffused Olive's face, followed quickly by a look of pain,--and we\nknew she was thinking of Rivers, and his possible defection. Never have I\nseen a woman's face so easy to read as Olive Raynor's. Perhaps because of\nher pure, transparent character, for in my enforced intimacy with her, as\nI managed her estate, I had learned that she was an exceptional nature,\nhigh-minded, fine, and conscientious in all", "most hysterically and then suddenly became most gentle and tender. She\nran for Olive's wraps herself, and bringing them, put them on with the\ncareful air of a mother dressing her child.\n\nOlive, herself, was as one dazed. She, now and then, looked toward Rivers\nwith a shy, yet wistful glance, and he looked back with a big, hearty\nsmile that seemed to warm her very soul.\n\nWe piled into the big touring car and made a quick run to the Puritan\nBuilding.\n\nThen we all", "'m sure, why she's staying\nhere, but I like to have her. Well, in about two minutes she had the\nfurniture all changed about. Not the heavy pieces, of course, but she\nmoved a small table and all the chairs, and finally unscrewed an electric\nlight bulb from one place and put it on another, and then, after looking\nall about, she said, 'Just one thing more!' and if she didn't spring up\non to a table with one jump and take down quite a large picture! 'There,'\nshe said, and", ". And I had noticed several things\nof late that made me feel pretty sure that her friendship for Rivers was\ntrue and deep, if indeed it were not something more than friendship.\nThis, to be sure, would argue but a fickle loyalty to the memory of Amory\nManning, but as Norah and I agreed, when talking it over, Miss Raynor had\nnever shown any desperate grief at Manning's disappearance,--at least,\nnot more than the loss of a casual friend might arouse.\n\nBut I knew where my duty lay. And so I said, \"R", "in the day before,\nand of a quieter type.\n\nAltogether, she looked very lovely, and her sweet, flower-like face, with\nits big, pathetic brown eyes, was raised frankly to Chief Martin as she\nanswered his questions in a low, clear voice. A slight pallor told of a\nnight of wakefulness and sorrow, but this seemed to accentuate the\nscarlet of her fine, delicate lips,--a scarlet unacquainted with the\nassistance of the rouge stick.\n\n\"No,\" she said, positively,", "Talcott, of course\nyou know.\"\n\nI had never met Amory Manning before, but one glance was enough to show\nhow matters stood between him and Olive Raynor. They were more than\nfriends,--that much was certain.\n\n\"I saw Mr. Manning downstairs,\" Miss Raynor said to Talcott, with a\nlovely flush, \"and--as Uncle Amos doesn't--well, he isn't just crazy over\nhim, I asked him not to come up here with me, but to wait for me\ndownstairs.\"\n\n\"And as", "At last Olive answered him, and he dropped the pencil and talked to her.\nIn a wheedlesome mood, he persuaded her to defer her proposed errand\nuntil he could join her and he would accompany her. The kindly\nfamiliarity with which he carried on the conversation and the jaunty\nassurance he showed that she would accede to his request proved to us,\nlisteners perforce, that there was good comradeship between them.\n\nRivers hung up the receiver, and turned to me with a boyish smile. \"I'm\ngoing", "on his shoulder, her tones urgent and encouraging.\n\n\"I will!\" and Manning, for we felt no doubt of his identity now,--spoke\nfirmly and bravely. He did not look at Olive, and it was clear that this\nwas intentional.\n\nInstead, he turned to Zizi, and seemed to address himself to her.\n\nHe couldn't have done better if he wanted helpful sympathy, for the black\neyes that gazed at him were soft and tender with something like a\nmaternal sweetness.\n\nThis mood of Z", "story.\n\n\"Excuse me, Mrs. Vail,\" he interrupted her, \"but, really, I must run away\nnow, and I want a word or two with Mr. Rivers first.\"\n\nThe good lady subsided, but it was plain to be seen she was disappointed.\n\n\"May I come in?\" and a smiling Olive appeared in the doorway. \"Am I\nwanted?\"\n\n\"Are you wanted?\" the eager, hungry smile Rivers gave her was pathetic.\nFor it was so spontaneous, so gladly welcoming that it was as if a light\n", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "was suddenly extinguished when the man, on second thought, hid his real\nfeelings and advanced with a courteous but rather formal air.\n\n\"You're always wanted,\" he resumed, lightly, but the joy was gone from\nhis tones, and a mere friendly greeting resulted. Surely, he was a\ngentleman, but he would make no advances while uncertain of his claim in\nfull to that title.\n\nAnd then, he looked at her curiously, as if wondering whether she would\nhold any place in his restored memory,--should the restoration really", "something to tell, and she meant to have it told.\n\n\"I don't know, Miss Raynor,\" Talcott began, \"whether anything has\nhappened, or not. I mean, anything serious. We--that is,--we don't know\nwhere Mr. Gately is.\"\n\n\"Go on. That of itself doesn't explain your anxious faces.\"\n\nSo Talcott told her,--told her just what we knew ourselves, which was so\nlittle and yet so mysterious.\n\nOlive listened, her great, dark eyes widening with wonder", ", sir; sort of quarreling, you know; I----\"\n\n\"Did you listen?\"\n\n\"Not exactly that, sir, but I couldn't help hearing the angry voices,\nthough I didn't make out the words.\"\n\n\"Be careful, Jenny,\" Talcott's tones were stern, \"don't assume more than\nyou can be sure was meant.\"\n\n\"Then I can't assume anything,\" said Jenny, crisply, \"for I didn't hear a\nsingle word,--only I did feel sure the two of 'em was scrapping", "'t know for sure,\" she said, \"and so I don't want to get nobody\ninto trouble by suspicioning them.\"\n\n\"You won't get anybody into trouble,\" Wise assured her, \"unless she has\nmade the trouble for herself. Let's play a game, Jenny,--let's talk in\nriddles.\"\n\nJenny eyed him curiously, and then, as he smiled infectiously, she did,\ntoo.\n\n\"Now,\" went on Wise, \"this is the game. I don't know, of course,", "far different from\nthat of a selling agent! I'll bet he was a lawyer, at least!\"\n\n\"At least!\" I mocked her; \"understand, pray, I consider my profession\nsomewhat above the least of the professions!\"\n\n\"Yes, for _you_ dignify it to a high standing,\" and the gray eyes flashed\nme the smile of appreciation that I was looking for. I may as well admit\nthat I was growing very fond of those two gray eyes and their owner, and\nI had a pretty strong conviction that after the present case was all\nsett", ", and I broke my appointment. Sorry, old man, but I had to see\nFriend Doctor, on the jump. Let's go now, in accordance with the Witch's\nwhim, and we'll take the big wagon, and all go.\"\n\nHe often called Zizi the Witch, or the Elf-child, and she liked it from\nhim, though she usually resented any familiarity.\n\nShe smiled at him, but I noted an undercurrent of sadness in her gaze,\nand I knew she was thinking of the evidence of the snow crystal.\n\n", "She's always better for a crying spell. It clears\nher atmosphere. Now, Brice, let's get busy. As Zizi says, you must admit\nthat there's no doubt that Amos Gately was pretty deeply into the game.\nEven if he was unduly friendly with Sadie Kent, it was indubitably\nthrough and because of their dealings together in the stolen telegram\nbusiness. The way I see it is that Sadie sold her intercepted messages to\nthe highest bidder. This was George Rodman, but above him was Amos\nGately." ], [ "'s no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!\"\n\n\"Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would be\na stunning title!\"\n\n\"Now you're guying me again. Guess I'll shut up on that subject. But I'll\nstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to live\nin for a short time?\"\n\n\"Why a short time?\"\n\n\"Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I", "to me a parallel case,\" I demurred.\n\n\"Neither is Case Rivers a parallel case,\" Zizi giggled, \"but he's the\nreal thing in the way of Earth Fallers. And when you know all, you'll\nknow everything!\"\n\nThe child was exasperating in her foolish retorts and yet so convincing\nwas the determined shake of her little black head that I was almost\ntempted to believe in her statements.\n\n\"You're a baby sphinx, Zizi,\" and Olive looked at her affectionately,\n\"but", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "a sense of humor\nwhich had not deserted him, along with his memory.\n\nI sat by his bedside, and I remained rather longer than I had intended,\nfor I became interested in his story, and the time slipped by.\n\n\"You see,\" he said, fixing me with his queer-looking eyes, \"I fell\nthrough the earth.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I did. I fell through the earth, and it was a long, long fall.\"\n\n\"Well, yes, eight thousand miles, I'm told.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\"", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "and?\" I said, \"Greenland?\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" and he looked uninterested. \"But,\" here he brightened a little,\n\"anyway, I fell through the earth. I fell in _there_, wherever it was,\nand came on down, down through the earth till I came out at the other\nend.\"\n\n\"You mean, you fell through a section or segment of the globe? As if,\nsay, you fell in at London and came out at the Cape of Good Hope!\"\n\n\"That's the idea! Only I fell _out_ here in New", "you have won yourself!\" exclaimed Penny Wise.\n\n\"Yes,\" chuckled Zizi, \"and you've won the reward offered for Mr.\nGately's--\" she hesitated,--\"for the man who freed the world of one more\ntraitorous viper!\"\n\n\"And, incidentally,\" I added, \"you've cleared up the puzzle of the man\nwho fell through the earth!\"\n\n\"It is well that Gately is no more,\" Manning said, musingly; \"he was\nespecially dangerous because he was in such a high position and so\n", ", and I broke my appointment. Sorry, old man, but I had to see\nFriend Doctor, on the jump. Let's go now, in accordance with the Witch's\nwhim, and we'll take the big wagon, and all go.\"\n\nHe often called Zizi the Witch, or the Elf-child, and she liked it from\nhim, though she usually resented any familiarity.\n\nShe smiled at him, but I noted an undercurrent of sadness in her gaze,\nand I knew she was thinking of the evidence of the snow crystal.\n\n", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "by demanding my time and\nattention for himself, instead of allowing me to entertain my guests\nproperly.\"\n\n\"Doubtless so you wouldn't do it again.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. But all that was uncomfortable for me,--almost\nunbearable,--yet one doesn't kill one's people for such things.\"\n\nTo me this simple statement of Olive Raynor's was more convincing than a\nstorm of denial. She had stormed, with indignation, at the hint of\nsuspicion, but her quiet", "\"Yes, but even yet, you haven't suggested anything like falling through\nthe earth.\"\n\n\"All right, Miss Smarty, what's your idea? I see you're dying to spring\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Only what I've thought from the beginning. I believe he was in some cold\ncountry, Canada, or somewhere, and fell down through a mine shaft, or\ninto a deep old well, or perhaps merely an excavation for a new, large\nbuilding. But, anyway, whatever it was, his last impression was of\nfalling down into the ground. Then", "for Heaven's sake, let's get\nout!\"\n\n\"Yes, in a minute, but let me think what you ought to do. And, oh, do let\nme take a minute to look round!\"\n\n\"No, girl; this is no time to satisfy your curiosity or, to enjoy a sight\nof these----\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mean that! But I want to see if there isn't some clew or\nsome bit of evidence to the whole thing. It is too weird! too impossible\nthat three people should have disappeared into nothingness! Where", "-eyed and tearless, looking so\npathetically lonely and so unable to cope with her new responsibilities,\nthat I gladly promised her all possible assistance that I could give,\nboth in legal matters and in any personal or friendly ways.\n\n\"Don't think me helpless,\" she said, reading my thoughts; \"I shall rise\nto the situation, I shall adapt myself to my changed circumstances, but\nit will take a little time, of course.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" I agreed, \"and don't attempt to do too much at first. Take\nplenty of time", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand", "and found it a scene of hilarious\ngayety. Mrs. Vail was positively cavorting about, as Norah waltzed her up\nand down the room; Pennington Wise was sitting on the corner of my desk\nwhistling dance music for them, and Zizi, her arms waving, executed a\nsort of glory dance of her own making-up.\n\nAfter a time, the door of the Gately room opened, and Olive's blushing\nface appeared, followed by that of the Man Who Fell Through the Earth.\n\n\"I want", "as\nfrom a soul in mortal agony,--and said:\n\n\"I killed Amos Gately!\"\n\nI think the scene that followed this announcement was the strangest I\nhave ever experienced. For myself, I felt a sudden sinking, as if the\nbottom had fallen out of the universe. In fact, a whimsical idea flashed\nthrough my stunned brain that I was \"falling through the earth,\"--or into\na bottomless pit.\n\nThe white faces that I looked at meant nothing to me,--I saw them as in a\ndream, so", ".\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" laughed Rivers, \"I've been trying to connect up with\nthe missing Manning myself, but I can't work it. So, I'm out for the\nreward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he's gone beyond\nrecall.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Wise put in, \"I've found out who offers the reward. And, if\nyou please, it's none other than the United States Government!\"\n\n\"Why?\" Rivers asked, interestedly.\n\n\"Well, it seems M", "\"with an awful threat! I can't\nthink about it! Oh, I don't know what to do! I can't tell it--I can't\ntell it to anybody----\"\n\n\"Wait till you get home,\" I counseled her, and Rivers added, \"And wait\ntill Mr. Wise comes. He's the man you must tell, and he will advise you.\nBut, I say, we're getting at things, eh, Brice? 'The Link' under arrest,\nWise onto Rodman, and he won't", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z" ], [ "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "miracle, and only the most desperate efforts fanned that\nlittle spark into resuscitation. The rest you know. The shock, the\nexposure, the cold, and perhaps a blow or two on my head, all combined,\nresulted in a total loss of memory as to my identity or to the events of\nmy former life.\n\n\"I had only remaining the positive recollection of that fall--\" Manning\nshuddered,--\"that interminable, that never-ending fall through the\nearth.\"\n\n\"But you fell through water,\" said Wise,", "he was rescued and sent to New York for\ntreatment, say, at some private hospital or sanitarium. Then suppose he\nescaped, and, still loony, threw himself into the East River--oh, I don't\nknow--only, there are lots of ways that he could have that notion about\nhis fall through the earth, and have something real to base it on.\"\n\n\"Gammon and spinach!\" I remarked, my patience exhausted; \"the man had a\nblow or a fall or something that jarred his memory, but his 'falling\n", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand", "at their own game of\ndeduction. I practiced it on Norah sometimes. She would bring me a veil\nor glove of some friend of hers, and I would try to deduce the friend's\ntraits of character. My successes and failures were about fifty-fifty,\nbut Norah thought I improved with practice, and, anyway, it exercised my\nintelligence.\n\nI had failed to pass examination for the army, because of a defect,\nnegligible, it seemed to me, in my eyesight. I was deeply disappointed,\nbut as the law", "when he struck he was knocked\nunconscious. Then, he was taken to a hospital, or somewhere, and as the\nfall had utterly blotted out his memory, he was kept in confinement.\nThen, somehow he broke loose and came to New York,--or, maybe, he was\nbrought to New York for treatment by the doctors and he got away and\neither threw himself into the river or fell in accidentally, and when he\nwas rescued he still remembered the fall but nothing else concerning his\ndisaster.\"\n\n\"Good enough, Norah, as a theory. But seems to", "through the earth' idea is a hallucination, pure and simple. However,\nthat doesn't matter. Now we must follow this new trail, and see if we can\nget a line on his personality. He can't tell us what he was here for,--if\nhe doesn't remember that he was here.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he does remember,\" Wise spoke musingly.\n\n\"Nixy!\" and Zizi's saucy head nodded positively; \"Mr. Rivers is sincere\nnow, whatever he was before. He doesn't remember shooting Mr. G", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "t got a\nstrangle-hold on that eloping memory of mine yet, but I 'ave 'opes. I've\nhad a glimmer of a gleam of a ray of light on my dark, mysterious past,\nand I beflew myself straight to good little old Doctor Rankin, who's my\nTrouble Man every time. And he says that it's the beginning of the end.\nThat any day, almost any hour now, I may burst forth a full-memoried and\nproperly christened citizen.\"\n\n\"Good for you, old chap,\"", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "his eyes staring at the narrator\nof all this.\n\n\"Not to my knowledge. My realization of falling only lasted until I\nstruck the water in the sewer. That, doubtless, knocked me out for good\nand all,--mentally, I mean. I have to thank my wonderful vitality and\nstrong constitution for the fact that I really lived through the\ncatastrophe. Think what it means! Hurtled through that rushing torrent of\na sewer half filled with melted snow and water,--flung out into the\nriver, dashed about among the floating c", "\n\n\"I can't tell you, Mr. Brice, unless it becomes gravely necessary. But it\nhas to do with--with men higher up,--and it has nothing to do with my\nguardian's death,--of that I'm certain.\"\n\n\"Very well, Miss Raynor; I trust you, of course, that goes without\nsaying, but I also trust your judgment in reserving your full confidence\nin this matter.\"\n\n\"You may. I assure you I will tell you all, if it becomes imperative that\nI do so. Meant", "he was unable to do so.\"\n\n\"But what could have happened that would make it impossible for him to\nsend you some word?\"\n\n\"I don't know--I can't think, I'm sure. But he was attacked or overcome\nby someone who wanted him put out of the way. Mr. Manning had\nenemies,--that much I may tell you----\"\n\n\"Do you know more? That you can _not_ tell me?\"\n\n\"No; that is, I don't _know_ anything,--but I have some foreboding", "would rather be told\nabruptly, like that, than to have me mince matters.\n\nAnd I was right, for she said, quickly, \"Tell it all,--any knowledge is\nbetter than suspense.\"\n\nSo I told her, as gently as I could, of our discovery of the body of Amos\nGately in his private elevator, at the bottom of the shaft.\n\n\"But I don't understand,\" said Manning. \"Shot through the heart and alone\nin the elevator?\"\n\n\"That's the way it is. I've no", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "can't bank on such a possibility. I've talked this\nover with Rankin,--he's the doctor who's following up my case,--time and\nagain. He says that a sudden and very forcible shock is needed to restore\nmy memory, and that it may come and--it may not. He says it can't be\nforced or brought about knowingly,--it will have to be a coincidence,--a\nhappening that will jar the inert cells of my brain--or, something like\nthat,--I don't remember the scientific terms", "worthwhile individuality for himself yet.\n\nNorah, too, admired him, and seemed to know as much of his capabilities,\nor more, than I did myself.\n\n\"I don't know just what sort of work, but I think it's connected with the\nmysteries we're up against ourselves. And I know about him, because Zizi\ntold me. She sees everything he does,--when she's with him, I mean. Not a\ngesture or motion escapes her notice. And she's watching his attitude\ntoward Miss", ", but that black squall was so sudden and\nterrific, no one could see or know anything for the time being.\n\n\"However, I knew perfectly well, as I fell in, what had happened, but\nthen,--and I remember this, too,--I fell and fell,--down, down,--it\nseemed for miles; I was whirled dizzily about,--but still I fell--on and\non,--interminably. I felt my consciousness going,--at first, abnormally\nacute, my senses became dulled, and I had", "me, in that case, he would\nhave been sought and found by the people who had him in charge.\"\n\n\"Ah, that's the point of it all! They don't want to find him! They know\njust where he is, and all about him, but they won't tell, for it suits\ntheir base purposes to have him lost!\"\n\n\"Well, you _have_ cooked up a scheme! And he killed Amos Gately?\"\n\n\"Maybe, but if so, he did it unknowingly. Perhaps these people who are\nlooking after him, secret", "-eyed and tearless, looking so\npathetically lonely and so unable to cope with her new responsibilities,\nthat I gladly promised her all possible assistance that I could give,\nboth in legal matters and in any personal or friendly ways.\n\n\"Don't think me helpless,\" she said, reading my thoughts; \"I shall rise\nto the situation, I shall adapt myself to my changed circumstances, but\nit will take a little time, of course.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" I agreed, \"and don't attempt to do too much at first. Take\nplenty of time" ], [ "dazed was my intelligence.\n\nAnd then, they assumed their individuality and I saw that Olive's lovely\ncountenance was a complete blank; like me, she failed to grasp the full\nmeaning of Rivers' confession.\n\nMrs. Vail, her eyes closed, lay back limply in a chair, and groaned\naudibly, while Norah buried her face in a nearby silken curtain and\nsobbed.\n\nPennington Wise looked like a man who has just heard the worst,--but who\nexpected it. However, the shock had", "\nand many of the employees had gone home. My manner of grave importance\nsufficed to let me pass any inquisitive attendants and I found Mr. Mason\nin his office.\n\nI told him the bare facts in a few words, for this was no time to\ntarry,--I wanted to get up and tell Miss Raynor before any less\nconsiderate messenger might reach her.\n\nMr. Mason was aghast at the terrible tidings, and closing his desk at\nonce, he quickly reached for his hat and coat and started on his fearsome\nerrand.", "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "unnerved him, I could see by his\ntightly clenched hands and set lips, as he strove to control himself.\n\nRivers sat like a stone statue, only his eyes, desperate in their\nconcentration, showed the fearful mental strain he was suffering.\n\nZizi,--bless her!--stood behind him,--hovering, watchful,--more like a\nguardian angel than a Nemesis, and with her eerie, elfin face full of\nanxious suspense.\n\nRivers drew a long sigh; he looked round the", "as\nfrom a soul in mortal agony,--and said:\n\n\"I killed Amos Gately!\"\n\nI think the scene that followed this announcement was the strangest I\nhave ever experienced. For myself, I felt a sudden sinking, as if the\nbottom had fallen out of the universe. In fact, a whimsical idea flashed\nthrough my stunned brain that I was \"falling through the earth,\"--or into\na bottomless pit.\n\nThe white faces that I looked at meant nothing to me,--I saw them as in a\ndream, so", "so responsible, so capable of self-explanation, that\nlike the rest of the assembly, I merely waited his further speech.\n\n\"There's so much to be told,\" he said, and his smile changed to a look of\npain. He gave another glance at Olive, and even took a step toward\nher,--then he seemed to collapse, and sinking back into the chair he had\nvacated, he hid his face in his hands and groaned.\n\n\"Go on!\" whispered an imperious little voice, and Zizi was behind him\nagain, her hand", "room, appraisingly, his\nquick, darting glance taking in every detail, he scanned the desk and all\nthe things on it, he looked through into the farther room,--the Blue\nRoom,--and saw the great war map hanging on the wall, and then he rose,\nstraightened his broad shoulders, and shook himself as one who arouses\nfrom sleep.\n\nBreathlessly, we who watched, saw a great light come into his eyes,--a\nnew self-respect, a new sense of importance showed in his whole bearing\nand, with a smile", "his eyes staring at the narrator\nof all this.\n\n\"Not to my knowledge. My realization of falling only lasted until I\nstruck the water in the sewer. That, doubtless, knocked me out for good\nand all,--mentally, I mean. I have to thank my wonderful vitality and\nstrong constitution for the fact that I really lived through the\ncatastrophe. Think what it means! Hurtled through that rushing torrent of\na sewer half filled with melted snow and water,--flung out into the\nriver, dashed about among the floating c", "that he\nhad failed to catch the elusive thread that bound him to the past and\nthat he had returned to the present.\n\nOlive saw it, too, and putting out her hand, said, frankly:\n\n\"I owe you deep gratitude, Mr. Rivers. I suppose I was in no real danger,\nwith you men there, but I must confess I was glad to have that wretch\npunished.\"\n\nHer lovely face glowed with righteous indignation, and Zizi's pert little\ncountenance showed deep satisfaction.\n\n\"You gave it", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,\nand the story of his mysterious disappearance.\n\nWise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.\n\n\"Totally unlike,\" he said, disappointedly.\n\n\"Not a chance,\" laughed Rivers; \"I wish I could step into that chap's\nshoes; but you see, I came from far away.\"\n\n\"Tell me about that trip of yours,\" asked Wise.\n\n\"Don't know much to tell,\" returned Rivers; \"but what I do know, I know", "tried to help matters by saying, hastily, \"Perhaps it was a plant!\nPerhaps this card was put where it was found by some sly scoundrel for\nthe purpose of misleading----\"\n\n\"Don't!\" said Olive, faintly; \"you are kind, Mr. Wise, but you are saying\nthat merely to give me a ray of comfort and hope. You know better. You\nbelieve,--and I fear I must believe,--my guardian was involved in some\nwrong, some grave wrong--and----\"\n\nShe broke down utterly", "\n\n\"I will call Mr. Gately's physician,\" he said, his mind working quickly,\nas he paused a moment, \"and you will break the news to Miss Raynor, you\nsay? I can't seem to comprehend it all! But my place is by Mr. Gately and\nI will go there at once.\"\n\nSo I hastened up to the twelfth floor again, trying, on the way, to think\nhow I should best tell the awful story.\n\nThe elevator ride had never seemed so short,--the floors fairly flew past\nme, and", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "important to oneself.\n\nThe Chief was furiously angry at the lateness of the information, and had\nalready dispatched a messenger to get the weapon and to interview the\nBoston man.\n\n\"It's all straight on the face of it,\" declared Chief Martin; \"only an\nhonest, cheerful booby would write like that! He picks up a pistol,\nforgets all about it, and then, when he learns it's evidence,--or may\nbe,--he calmly waits forty-eight hours before he pipes up!\"\n\n", "would rather be told\nabruptly, like that, than to have me mince matters.\n\nAnd I was right, for she said, quickly, \"Tell it all,--any knowledge is\nbetter than suspense.\"\n\nSo I told her, as gently as I could, of our discovery of the body of Amos\nGately in his private elevator, at the bottom of the shaft.\n\n\"But I don't understand,\" said Manning. \"Shot through the heart and alone\nin the elevator?\"\n\n\"That's the way it is. I've no", "he was unable to do so.\"\n\n\"But what could have happened that would make it impossible for him to\nsend you some word?\"\n\n\"I don't know--I can't think, I'm sure. But he was attacked or overcome\nby someone who wanted him put out of the way. Mr. Manning had\nenemies,--that much I may tell you----\"\n\n\"Do you know more? That you can _not_ tell me?\"\n\n\"No; that is, I don't _know_ anything,--but I have some foreboding", ", but that black squall was so sudden and\nterrific, no one could see or know anything for the time being.\n\n\"However, I knew perfectly well, as I fell in, what had happened, but\nthen,--and I remember this, too,--I fell and fell,--down, down,--it\nseemed for miles; I was whirled dizzily about,--but still I fell--on and\non,--interminably. I felt my consciousness going,--at first, abnormally\nacute, my senses became dulled, and I had", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", "something to tell, and she meant to have it told.\n\n\"I don't know, Miss Raynor,\" Talcott began, \"whether anything has\nhappened, or not. I mean, anything serious. We--that is,--we don't know\nwhere Mr. Gately is.\"\n\n\"Go on. That of itself doesn't explain your anxious faces.\"\n\nSo Talcott told her,--told her just what we knew ourselves, which was so\nlittle and yet so mysterious.\n\nOlive listened, her great, dark eyes widening with wonder" ], [ ".\"\n\n\"Don't apologize,\" laughed Rivers, \"I've been trying to connect up with\nthe missing Manning myself, but I can't work it. So, I'm out for the\nreward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he's gone beyond\nrecall.\"\n\n\"By the way,\" Wise put in, \"I've found out who offers the reward. And, if\nyou please, it's none other than the United States Government!\"\n\n\"Why?\" Rivers asked, interestedly.\n\n\"Well, it seems M", "so used to having\npeople joke about it that he only smiles perfunctorily and goes on about\nhis business.\"\n\n\"Will you ask him to help us?\"\n\n\"Of course I will, and if not too busy on some other matter he will\ndoubtless begin at once.\"\n\n\"I feel so young and inexperienced,\" Olive shuddered, \"to be deciding\nthese big things. It seems as if someone older and wiser ought to direct\nme. Oh, I know I have your help and counsel, but I wish I had some\nrelative or near", "was untruthful it was\nbecause his unjust rules and regulations made me so! I am not a\nstory-teller, ordinarily. If I was forced to be one, in order to enjoy\nsome simple pleasures or diversions, it is no one's business but my own.\"\n\n\"That's true, Hudson,\" I interposed, \"why constitute yourself Miss\nRaynor's Sunday-School teacher?\"\n\n\"Sorry I am to do so,\" and the good-natured face showed real regret; \"but\nI've orders. Now, Miss", "house. Anyways,\nthat's what he done,--a long time ago. I had to know of it, of\ncourse,----\"\n\n\"Of course, as superintendent of the Matteawan.\"\n\n\"That's what they call it now, but I like better to be called janitor. As\njanitor I began, and as janitor I'll work to the end. Well, Mr. Gately,\nhe went up and down in the little car whenever he chose, and no one\nnoticed him at all. It wasn't, after all", "\nby 'The Link,' and had transmitted it, by secret channels of his own, to\nthe enemy government. I charged him with this, and he put up a fight. I\ntried to overcome him, and take him peaceably, but he was desperate and\nevaded my grasp. He ran toward that map in the other room, and I stood\njust here, where I am now sitting. I had overturned the chair in our\nstruggle and as I suddenly saw him push aside the map and enter what was\nbeyond all doubt a secret mode of exit, I fired at him", "--everything,--and it is not all pleasant\nremembrance! But it must be told, and then I must go at once and report\nto my superiors.\n\n\"I am Amory Manning, a special agent in the Secret Service. I was\ndetailed by the Government to hunt down a certain branch of the enemy spy\nsystem in New York City, and in pursuance of my duty, I learned that Amos\nGately was the man I sought.\"\n\nManning still kept his glance averted from Olive, indeed, he looked\nalmost constantly at Z", "seems the Government has\nbeen onto him for some time,--at least, they suspected him, and were\nsecretly investigating his private affairs. That Sadie person----\"\n\n\"By the way, Wise,\" I interrupted him, \"you sized her up perfectly! Did\nyou ever hear about that, Rivers? Mr. Wise saw only the girl's hatpin,\nand from it he drew an exact portrait of 'The Link' herself. How did you\ndo it, Wise? Tell us the details.\"\n\n\"Like all those deductions it was simpler than it", "exposed or punished them. No\nman had a cause for righteous enmity against him,--of that I'm sure!\"\n\n\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The Man Who Fell Through the Earth\n\n\n\"And it is for me,\" Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes,\n\"to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this\nsurveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself,--it is too absurd to\ntake very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city,", "\nor a very few minutes after, if that interests you. I shall be here, at\nThe Touraine, for another week, and will cheerfully allow myself to be\ninterviewed at your convenience, but, as I said, I have no further\ninformation to give than that I have here set forth.\n\n Very truly yours,\n Nicholas Lusk.\n\n\nThe letter was dated from Boston, on Saturday evening, two days before.\nTruly, Friend Lusk had delayed his statement, but as he said, that was\nhuman nature, in matters not", "\nabout falling through the earth.\"\n\n\"You do!\" I cried, in amazement. \"You stand for that! You believe he fell\ninto the globe at Canada,--or some Northern country, and fell out again\nin New York City?\"\n\n\"Not quite that,\" and Wise smiled. \"But I believe he had some mighty\nstrange experience, of which his tale is a pretty fair description, if\nnot entirely the literal truth.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Why, suppose he fell down a mine shaft in Canada. Suppose that knocked\nout his memory. Then suppose", ".\n\n\"Not so very often, sir. Irregular like. Now, quite frequent, and then,\nagain, sort of seldom. Well, we can't open it, Mr. Talcott. These things\nwon't work, only just so. After anybody gets in, and shuts the door, it\ncan't be opened except by pressing a button on the inside. Can't you get\nin upstairs?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Talcott, shortly. \"Get help, then, and break the door down.\"\n\nThis was done, the splintered door fell", "room, appraisingly, his\nquick, darting glance taking in every detail, he scanned the desk and all\nthe things on it, he looked through into the farther room,--the Blue\nRoom,--and saw the great war map hanging on the wall, and then he rose,\nstraightened his broad shoulders, and shook himself as one who arouses\nfrom sleep.\n\nBreathlessly, we who watched, saw a great light come into his eyes,--a\nnew self-respect, a new sense of importance showed in his whole bearing\nand, with a smile", ".\n\nAfter a little further tedious questioning, which, so far as I could see,\nelicited nothing of real importance, the Chief sighed and terminated the\ninterview.\n\nMr. Mason and Mr. Talcott had by this time arrived, and their presence\nwas welcomed by Miss Raynor, who was apparently glad of the nearness of a\npersonal friend.\n\nOf course, their evidence was but a repetition of the scenes I had been\nthrough the day before, but I was deeply interested in the attitudes of\nthe two men.\n\nTalcott, the secretary", "of the law works swiftly when it wills to do\nso. Within half an hour Sadie Kent was arrested at her key in the\ntelegraph office on charge of stealing confidential telegrams sent by\nofficials in Washington to munition plants and steamship companies and\ndelivering them to persons who she knew would transmit them to the German\nForeign Office.\n\nWhen approached, the girl,--the woman rather,--put up a bold bluff, but\nit was of no avail. She was taken into custody, and all her appeals for\nmercy denied. All", "'s discretion, and I was pretty positive he'd find out\nsomething,--if there were anything worth finding out.\n\nAnd there was!\n\n\nRodman, by good luck, was out and his offices locked. Hudson gently\npersuaded the locks to let go their grip, and, for he let me go with him,\nwe went in.\n\nThe first thing that hit me in the eyes, was a big war map on the wall.\nMoreover, though not a duplicate of Mr. Gately's map, it was similar, and\nit hung in a", "scholarly, rather than business-like. This effect\nwas probably due in part to the huge shell-rimmed glasses he wore. I\ncan't bear those things myself, but some men seem to take to them\nnaturally. For the rest, Manning had thick, dark hair, and he was a bit\ninclined to stoutness, but his goodly height saved him from looking\nstocky.\n\n\"Well, I think we ought to investigate this elevator,\" said Talcott.\n\"Suppose you and I, Mr. Brice, go downstairs to see about it, leaving", "without exciting comment.\n\nOf course, the janitor would know all about it; and he did.\n\nHe returned with Mr. Talcott, muttering as he came.\n\n\"I always said Mr. Gately'd get caught in that thing yet! I don't hold\nwith them automaticky things, so I don't. They may go all right for years\nand then cut up some trick on you. If that man's caught in there, he must\nbe pretty sick by this time!\"\n\n\"Does Mr. Gately use the thing much?\" I asked", "could never say of that girl\nthat she entered or came in,--she just--was there,--in that silent,\nmysterious way of hers. And then with equally invisible motions she was\nsitting opposite me, at Olive's side, on a low ottoman.\n\n\"I know Mr. Rivers very well,\" Zizi announced, as if she were his\nofficial sponsor, \"and what he says is true, no matter how unbelievable\nit may sound. He says he fell through the earth, and so he _did_ fall\nthrough the earth,", "not to go out of town without acquainting us of the fact.\nWe do not accuse you, but we do want you where we can communicate with\nyou at will. I am going now Miss Raynor. I came only to make sure on a\nfew points,--which I have done,--and to tell you to remain within call.\nIndeed, I may as well tell you that any attempt to get away will be\nfrustrated.\"\n\n\"You mean I am under surveillance!\"\n\n\"That's about it, miss.\"\n\nOlive looked at him as one", "empt and hatred of him!\nYou, Amory, are a hero!--my hero.\"\n\nOlive held out her hands with a beautiful gesture of affection, and\nManning strode across the room to her side.\n\n\"Now I have the only forgiveness I care for,\" he said, and his face was\nradiant. \"Now, I must go at once, and report. My duty lies to my\ncountry,--to my government! Oh, there are so many things yet to think of!\nThey,--the Government,--offered a reward for me!\"\n\n\"Which" ] ]

[ "Why did Newton come to Earth?", "What is the name of Newton's home planet?", "What hardship is occuring on Anthea?", "How many aliens are left on Anthea?", "What cause the drought on Anthea?", "What was Newton in when he arrived on Earth?", "Who discovers Newton's alien nature?", "What organization arrests Newton?", "After being released by the CIA, what organization subsequently arrests Newton?", "What is the purpose of Thomas Jerome Newton constructing a spaceship on Earth?", "What is Thomas Jerome Newton's home planet called?", "What is Anthea experiencing as a result of numerous nuclear wars?", "What is the current population of Anthea?", "Which state did Newton first land in?", "Who falls in love with Newton?", "Who discovers Newtons alien nature?", "Why did the CIA decide not to release the results of Newton's rigorous testing?", "How did Newtown become blind?", "Which political party takes power after stories of the Newtown scandal are released?", "How many people remain on Anthea? ", "Who finds out that Newton is an alien first? ", "Who is the protagonist of this story?", "Who is the antagonist of this story? ", "What happens to Newton's eyes during the x-ray by the FBI? ", "How does Betty Jo feel about Newton? ", "Why are the Antheans needing a new home? ", "Besides being blind, why can't Newton continue his mission? ", "How does Newton feel about failing his mission? ", "Who controls the government at the beginning of Newton's experimentation? " ]

[ [ "To build a spaceship to ferry others from his home planet", "He wants to build a spaceship to bring those who live on Anthea to Earth" ], [ "Anthea", "Anthea" ], [ "severe drought", "drought" ], [ "300", "less than 300" ], [ "nuclear wars", "nuclear wars" ], [ "a lifeboat", "lifeboat" ], [ "Nathan Bryce", "Nathan Bryce" ], [ "CIA", "The CIA" ], [ "FBI", "FBI" ], [ "To bring others from his home planet of Anthea back to Earth", "so that he can ferry the remaining Antheans to Earth" ], [ "Anthea", "Anthea" ], [ "A terrible drought", "drought" ], [ "Less than 300", "less than 300" ], [ "Kentucky", "Kentucky" ], [ "Betty Jo", "Betty Jo" ], [ "Nathan Bryce", "Bryce" ], [ "In fear that people would not believe them", "because they think they will not be believed and instead embarrass the government" ], [ "From the X-ray machine", "He is blinded by X-rays taken by the FBI when they are examining him" ], [ "The Republican Party", "Republican party" ], [ "Less than 300", "less than 300" ], [ "Nathan Bryce", "Nathan Bryce" ], [ "Newton", "Thomas Jerome Newton" ], [ "The American Government", "U.S. government agencies, CIA and FBI" ], [ "He is blinded. ", "he is blinded" ], [ "She is in love with him. ", "She loves him." ], [ "Lack of resources", "drought and other shortages" ], [ "Different planetary alignment. ", "the planetary alignments" ], [ "Bitter", "He is bitter that his blindness has caused him to be unable to continue the mission" ], [ "The Democrats", "Democratic Party" ] ]

[ [ ":\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tTank you veddy much...!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. NY IMPROV - 1975 - NIGHT\n\nThe Improv, the biggest comedy club around. People are\nlined up, waiting. The man strides up -- GEORGE SHAPIRO, a\nHollywood talent manager. George is old school: Bronx\naccent, shmooze and a hug... but with a surprising sweetness\nthat is quite dis", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", "on the phone!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tWho?\n\n\t\tSECRETARY (O.S.)\n\tHe says he's an associate of Andy\n\tKaufman's.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tOh.\n\t\t(back to the phone)\n\tSammy, think about it. I gotta go.\n\t\t(he punches a line)\n\tHello? George Shapiro here.\n\nOn the phone, a STACCATO, ABRASIVE NASAL VOICE blares.\n\n", "The execs stare at George like he's lost his\nmind.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tBut Andy says he's fabulous.\n\t\t(awkward)\n\tHe also says, these are the terms.\n\nThe execs' leader, MAYNARD SMITH, shudders hopelessly.\n\n\t\t NETWORK GUY #2\n\tCouldn't Kaufman ask for more money,\n\tlike everyone else?\n\nGeorge slowly, sadly shakes his head: No.\n\nMay", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "George is oblivious. He's staring up at a BILLBOARD.\nThe BILLBOARD: It says \"HARRAH'S TAHOE PRESENTS, ANDY\nKAUFMAN & TONY CLIFTON! TOGETHER ON STAGE! ONE NIGHT\nONLY!\"\n\nGeorge is flabbergasted.\n\nEXT. SUNSET BLVD, PHONEBOOTH - DAY\n\nGeorge is shouting into a payphone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tGene, you misunder", "LYNNE\n\tI'm warning you, Kaufman: One\n\tmorning you're gonna wake up... and\n\tyour head's gonna be shaved.\n\nAndy laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge stares glumly at Andy. Andy is quite cheerful --\neating a big piece of chocolate cake.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy, do you realize you don't do\n\tcomedy anymore? ", "George Shapiro!\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nThe parents stare at the commercials. They're totally\ndisoriented.\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tWhat's in Memphis?\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWho knows?! That kid is totally\n\tmeshuga.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM, MEMPHIS - NIGHT\n\nMemphis wrestling. ", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", "\t\tBUDD\n\tGeorge, you won't believe it... I\n\tgot Andy to do all the old material!\n\t\t(grinning)\n\tAnd he's killin' them!\n\nInside, there's HUGE LAUGHTER. George's eyes widen.\nPiqued, he goes in...\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - NIGHT\n\nAnd it's packed! Andy is onstage, playing struggling,\nlovable Foreign Man.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FO", "\nAndy gulps.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGeorge -- it's true.\n\nINT. DENNY'S BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\nGeorge confronts Zmuda.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tIf I find out you're behind this,\n\tI'll kill you.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tWhat are ya TALKIN' ABOUT?! I was\n\tthe one saying I didn't believe it!\n\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tExactly. That", "INT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nReal working showbiz offices. No glamour at all. It looks\nmore like an insurance agency.\n\nGeorge sits in his office, reassuring someone on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSammy, opening for David Brenner is\n\ta fine gig. You'll be on the\n\troad... get some exposure...\n\nO.S., a SECRETARY shouts out.\n\n\t\tSECRETARY (O.S.)\n\tTony Clifton", "nard glances at his team -- then frowns.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD (cont'd)\n\tGeorge, we don't book phantom\n\tperformers. The deal's off.\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGEORGE throws his attach&#1081; case on the desk, then slumps into\nhis chair. He picks up the phone and dials.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy?\n\n\t\tANDY (O.S.)\n\tHi George!", "SCREAMS with glee. The tune ENDS, and the\naudience APPLAUDS CRAZILY.\n\nDelighted, Andy grins and bows.\n\nThe Kaufmans clap the hardest. Stanley locks eyes with\nAndy... and the beaming father smiles the proudest of all.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge jumps from his desk. Andy is walking in.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy", "Andy. Andy's energy is sapped, but he\nforces himself to be upbeat.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI've got an idea for a new TV show\n\tfor me to star in. It's called\n\t\"Uncle Andy's Fun House\" -- it'll be\n\ta Saturday morning thing where I can\n\tgoof off with the kids. You know,\n\tpuppets, magic tricks...\n\nGeorge is choked up. He goes along with it.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(", "Maynard and the ABC suits sit at the table, mesmerized.\nGeorge is confidentially whispering to them.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThis has to stay in the room... but\n\there's the thing: Andy is Tony. And\n\tTony is Andy! They'll deny it up\n\tand down, but I swear to God,\n\tthey're the same person!\n\t\t(with urgency)\n\tIt's smart business! You'll get two\n\tAndy Kaufmans for the price of one!", "\n\tYeah! You stay away from that Andy\n\tKaufman, if you know what's good for\n\tyou!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(stunned)\n\tWho is this?\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tYou -- you know damn straight who it\n\tis. Tony Clifton! A name to\n\trespect. A name to fear.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tBeer. Gear. Deer. Ear.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t", "Andy Kaufman.\" But that spoils it.\n\tSo NOW, Tony denying being me is the\n\ttruth! Tony's not me! But maybe he\n\tis! The audience will never know...\n\t\t(giddy)\n\tThey'll think they're laughin' at me\n\t-- but actually I'll be laughin' at\n\tthem, because they're wrong and I'm\n\tright!\n\nGeorge is dazed.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSo you've got", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "\nand inside, taking off the rubber Tony makeup, is Zmuda.\n\nGeorge starts hyperventilating. Shaking, he tries to sit\nhimself down. Andy enters, beaming. George is amazed.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tYou're so proud. You're like some\n\tretarded kid comin' home from\n\tschool: \"Look, Dad, I got an F!\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tBut wasn't it funny?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\"Funny\"? I dun" ], [ ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "\n\nINT. TAXI SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nActors mingle outside the dressing rooms.\n\n\t\t JUDD HIRSCH\n\tI'm taking bets we do the show with\n\tthe stand-in.\n\n\t\tMARILU HENNER\n\tNo, I hear Andy arrived. Rumor is\n\the's locked inside his dressing\n\troom.\n\nJudd is surprised.\n\nINT. TAXI SET, ANDY'S DRESSING ROOM - DAY\n\nAndy", "re now filming TAXI (the same\nscene as earlier). On cue, Andy enters as LATKA -- wide-\neyed, endearing, in mechanic's overalls.\n\nAndy is hilarious. The crowd HOWLS with laughter.\n\nMONTAGE - TAXI\n\nIn quick succession, a series of Andy's best Latka moments.\nHe's beloved. The applause grows louder, louder, LOUDER...\n\nINT. TAXI SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nTA", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "winks at him.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tI'm here with Ed over at Taxi.\n\tThere's been some trouble with Tony.\n\n\t\tANDY (V.O.)\n\tOh no! Did he get hurt?\n\n\t\tED\n\tNo, no, Andy, nothing like that.\n\t\t(nervous beat)\n\tBut... Tony's not fitting in. His\n\tstyle of performance is too...\n\tburlesque.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. TAX", "reads one paragraph.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\"Was this in actuality Andy Kaufman?\n\tAnd if it was Andy Kaufman, is Andy\n\tKaufman crazy?\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he chortles)\n\tBoy, they totally fell for it! I'm\n\tonly acting crazy!\n\nHmm. A few awkward glances.\n\nThen -- Andy grins at his meal.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tBoy, this is tasty.\n\t\t", "COM!!!!\n\nAndy's smile drops. He freezes up.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSitcom...?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAnd this is a CLASS ACT! It's the\n\tguys who did the Mary Tyler Moore\n\tand Bob Newhart shows! It takes\n\tplace in a taxi stand! And you're\n\tgonna be the Fonzie!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(confused)\n\tI'm -- Fonzie?\n\t\t GEORGE", "\n\t\tANDY\n\tHey. If I give you three-hundred\n\tdollars, will you come to LA and\n\thelp me destroy a TV show?\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET, REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY\n\nThe Taxi cast sits irritably around a big table, holding\nscripts. Ed Weinberger enters.\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\tED\n\tHe just arrived.\n\n\t\tCAR", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "it\" -- and precisely\n\twhy they want you!\n\t\t(beat)\n\tYou're getting EVERYTHING!\n\nWhoa. Andy looks up, astonished. His space station\nEXPLODES, but he doesn't notice. He turns to George... and\nslowly smiles sweetly. Genuinely.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWell thank you very much...!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET - DAY\n\nThe first week of \"TAXI.\"", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "Andy Kaufman.\" But that spoils it.\n\tSo NOW, Tony denying being me is the\n\ttruth! Tony's not me! But maybe he\n\tis! The audience will never know...\n\t\t(giddy)\n\tThey'll think they're laughin' at me\n\t-- but actually I'll be laughin' at\n\tthem, because they're wrong and I'm\n\tright!\n\nGeorge is dazed.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSo you've got", "frightened parents, in a neck brace, on the stretcher,\netc.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nGeorge, Zmuda and Andy are looking through hundreds of\nclippings from the newspapers.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(reading aloud)\n\t\"... has been rushed to a nearby\n\thospital, where doctors are checking\n\thim for possible paralysis. His\n\tparents are at his bedside. Fans\n\twill best remember Kaufman as\n\tlovable Latka on", "Man on the Moon\n\n\n Man on the Moon (1999)\n by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski.\n\n\nFADE IN:\n\nINT. VOID - DAY\n\nStanding in a nonexistent set is ANDY KAUFMAN, looking a bit\nnervous. Wide-eyed, tentative, he stares at us with a\nneedy, unsettling cuteness. His hair is slicked-down, and\nhe wears the \"FRIENDLY WORLD\" costume from the Andy", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "is meditating. He's tranquil, at total inner peace.\n\nSilence -- until a little clock radio CHIRPS.\n\nAndy snaps his eyes open. He exhales a few calm breaths,\nthen sits upright. Andy reaches for a sealed envelope, rips\nit open, and removes a SCRIPT.\n\nAndy sighs, opens the script, and starts scanning the pages\nlike a speedreader.\n\nINT. TAXI SET - LATER THAT DAY\n\nBleachers are full. They'", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "don't know whether to be\n\tsad, or angry.\n\nThe Taxi cast are flustered.\n\n\t\tCAROL KANE\n\tWhy are people leaving? The\n\tcurtain's gonna open. Andy's gonna\n\tcome out... I know it!\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tSure, the body was just made of\n\twax...!\n\t\t(a very long beat)\n\tWasn't it......?\n\nSilence. They look to the front.\n\nThe" ], [ "People make chit-chat... but there is a\nsqueamish excitement in the air. A brooding unease. Nobody\nknows what to expect.\n\nSuddenly -- the lights go black. A BOOMING ANNOUNCER.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tLadies and Gentlemen! Please put\n\tyour hands together for... Tony\n\tClifton!\n\nThe THEME FROM 2001 starts playing. \"DAAAAA, DAAAAA,\nDAAAAA", "be clear with you.\n\tTony Clifton is NOT Andy Kaufman.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tYeah, yeah, yeah. I know!\n\t\t(he LAUGHS merrily)\n\tWink wink! Nudge nudge!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(frustrated)\n\tNo, I'm serious. If you book Tony,\n\tdo NOT EXPECT TO GET ANDY.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\t\t(LAUGHING", "his place in front of a\nprepared row of congas. He starts to play.\n\nTony Clifton grabs the microphone.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tThank you! Thank you! I wrote this\n\ttune for my friend Frank Sinatra.\n\tHe had a nice little success with\n\tit... but forgot to thank me on the\n\talbum.\n\nHe starts to BELT \"I Gotta Be Me\".\n\nGeorge squints his eyes, trying to figure out who this is.\n\n\t\tTON", "! DA-DAAAAA\"!\n\nA small SPOT appears -- on a peach tuxedo. The light grows\nbigger, bigger... the tension magnifying... people\ngasping... our view widening... until Tony Clifton is\nrevealed onstage!\n\nIt's an extraordinary theatrical moment -- without response.\nThe crowd has no idea what to do.\n\nTony smirks.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tHow ya doin'?\n\nDead silence.\n\nTony struts downstage. ", "INT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nReal working showbiz offices. No glamour at all. It looks\nmore like an insurance agency.\n\nGeorge sits in his office, reassuring someone on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSammy, opening for David Brenner is\n\ta fine gig. You'll be on the\n\troad... get some exposure...\n\nO.S., a SECRETARY shouts out.\n\n\t\tSECRETARY (O.S.)\n\tTony Clifton", "\n\tYeah! You stay away from that Andy\n\tKaufman, if you know what's good for\n\tyou!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(stunned)\n\tWho is this?\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tYou -- you know damn straight who it\n\tis. Tony Clifton! A name to\n\trespect. A name to fear.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tBeer. Gear. Deer. Ear.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t", "\n\t\titem)\n\tI mean -- \"two guaranteed guest\n\tshots for Tony Clifton\"??! Who is\n\tthis TONY CLIFTON?!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHe's a Vegas entertainer. I used to\n\tdo impressions of him. We sorta...\n\tgot in a fight over that.\n\nGeorge gets a look.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThis Clifton called me up. He's a\n\tloon! He HATES you!\n\t\t ANDY", "Tony called me himself.\n\tHe yelled at me, insisting that his\n\tdressing room be bigger than Andy's.\n\tThey're both going on tonight,\n\tbelieve me!\n\nGeorge is stupefied. He looks at his watch.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. LAKE TAHOE - DUSK\n\nMagnificent HARRAH'S dominates the skyline. The marquee\nblares \"TONY CLIFTON AND ANDY KAUFMAN", "\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEh, hi, Andy. Look, this Tony\n\tClifton... is he performing\n\tanywhere?\n\n\t\tANDY (O.S.)\n\tOf course.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tBut only on Monday nights.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThat's alright. Where...?\n\nINT. MAMA ROMA'S - NIGHT\n\nMama Roma's, a dark Italian restaurant with red booths, wise\nguys, and cigarette smoke.\n\nThe Mait", "roduction... TONY CLIFTON!\n\nThe band starts playing lounge standard \"VOLARE\". And then,\nobnoxious TONY CLIFTON swaggers out. Tony has a rubbery\nface, black wig and moustache, sunglasses, a padded belly,\nand a peach tuxedo with blue shirt and velvet piping.\n\nTony stops, smirks at the audience, and sucks on a\ncigarette. He blows smoke rings at them.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tHe", "d)\n\tWhat about Tony Clifton?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(startled)\n\tReally?! You want Tony Clifton to\n\theadline Harrah's Tahoe??\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\t\t(being tricky)\n\tEh, sure. We're trying to expand\n\tour audience base -- and I know the\n\tcollege kids really love Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\nGeorge winces.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tLook -- I gotta", "\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tUh, yeah. Is this GEORGE SHAPIRO?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(beat)\n\tEr, yes. Speaking.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\t\"Speaking\"! Reeking, seeking,\n\tcreaking... Freaking!\n\nGeorge is baffled.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tCan I help you with something?\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)", "be positive!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThat's great... but this show's\n\tgonna cost a fortune. Even if it\n\tsells out, you'll still lose eighty\n\tgrand.\n\nAndy smiles.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI don't care about the money. I\n\tjust want the show to deliver.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSo who's gonna pay for it?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tTony Clifton.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(", "puke up!!\n\nThe women turn. It's Andy -- dressed as Tony Clifton.\n\nA spooked moment.\n\nTony's wig, peach tux, and sunglasses are there... but Andy\nis barely strong enough to bark out the attitude.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tHow 'bout me and you dolls go get\n\tsome REAL food: French fries and a\n\tPorterhouse steak!\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(not sure what to\n\t\tsay)", "stood!! You're\n\tnot getting BOTH of them!\n\t\t(upset)\n\tIt's physically impossible!\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tWhy's that? You said over and over\n\tand over, Tony Clifton is not Andy\n\tKaufman --\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tYeah, I KNOW what I said! But --\n\ttrust me, it's not gonna happen!\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tSure it is. ", "\n\nConfused, one Dude squints into the distance -- and his eyes\npop.\n\n\t\tDUDE #2\n\tOh my GOD.\n\t\t(stupefied)\n\tThat's the freakiest thing I've ever\n\tseen!! Look!\n\nHe points. His friend turns -- and gasps.\n\nAT THE COMEDY STORE - The marquee says \"TONY CLIFTON: LIVE!\"\n\n\t\tDUDE #1\n\tMan, we were right! He's not dead", "\t\tWOMAN\n\tLeave me alone.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tOkay!\n\t\t(he spins around)\n\tSo, you havin' a good time, sir?!\n\nTony approaches a LONELY SAD SACK sitting at the bar. Tony\nthrusts his mike at the guy.\n\n\t\tSAD SACK\n\tSure...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tWhat's your name?\n\n\t\tSAD SACK\n\tBob.\n\n\t\tTONY CL", "h-heh. How ya all doin'?\n\nThe crowd is furious.\n\n\t\tANGRY GUY\n\tFuck you!\n\nPeople light back up and start talking. Tony ignores the\nruckus. He starts SINGING, pinched and off-key.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\t\t(singing)\n\t\"Volare!\n\t Whoa, whoa.\n\t Cantare,\n\t Whoa whoa whoa whoa.\"\n\nGeorge winces. He's", "stupefied. Finally -- George delivers the\nclincher.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tAnd Taxi must guarantee two guest\n\tappearances to... Tony Clifton.\n\n\t\tNETWORK GUYS\n\tWHO???\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tTony Clifton.\n\n\t\tNETWORK GUY #1\n\tWho is he?!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(solemn)\n\tI don't know.\n\nLong pause. ", "no. But\n\t\"intriguing\"... \"mindboggling\"...\n\tperhaps \"headache-inducing\"... sure.\n\t\t(softening)\n\tLike, that moment, when you both\n\tcame onstage...\n\nAndy excitedly jumps up and down.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tUh-huh! See, with all these\n\tarticles, people think they're\n\tinsiders. They see Tony Clifton,\n\tand they say, \"Ah, that's really\n\t" ], [ "ve\n\tbrought a real wrestler! She's\n\ttrained and she's READY!! Kaufman,\n\tdo you think you can handle... FOXY\n\tJACKSON???!!!\n\nAt that, a striking, muscular black woman stands -- FOXY.\n\nThe coliseum SCREAMS with excitement. People POUND their\nseats. The roar is deafening. Lawler gleams cockily.\nLynne looks worriedly at Andy -- he's concerned.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t C", "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "world thought that\n\twrestling was real.\nAndy gulps emotionally.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWe'll stay in touch. Next time I'm\n\tin Memphis, I'll stop by the house,\n\tand Noreen can make me her double\n\tchocolate cake.\n\n\t\tJERRY LAWLER\n\tAlright, buddy...\n\t\t(choked up)\n\tStay good.\n\nAndy and Jerry hug.\n\nA touching beat... until Andy gets a Quixotic gleam.\n", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "?! Well I got news for you,\n\tAndy Kaufman! Wrestling is a\n\tserious sport to me! I don't like\n\tanyone makin' fun of it, and I hate\n\tanyone insultin' the South! So we\n\tcan settle this two ways: We can go\n\tto court... or you can get in the\n\tring with a man, and wrestle for\n\tREAL!\n\nAndy watches, fuming. He is INFURIATED.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHe", "dishes!\n\nThe crowd APPLAUDS. Lynne grins and starts to climb in the\nring. Andy's eyes are ablaze. But suddenly -- an oversized\nSouthern MAN jumps in and snatches the mike away.\n\n\t\tMAN\n\tSTOP IT! This woman's a FAKE!\n\tShe's nothing but Kaufman's\n\tgirlfriend!\n\nAndy and Lynne are startled.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tT-that's not true --\n\n\t\tMAN", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", "y speaks timidly, seeming a bit dazed and regretful.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI apologize for all the wrestling\n\tI've ever done. I'm sorry for all\n\tthe abuse I've ever given...\n\t\t(soft)\n\tI was just playing bad guy wrestler.\n\tThat's not me... it's just a role.\n\tBut Jerry took it personally.\n\nLawler and Letterman are unimpressed.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "Finally, Andy stops -- and the\nreal wrestling begins. Foxy lunges at him and immediately\ngoes for a choke-hold. The crowd CHEERS, relieved. Lawler\nmotions signals. Foxy yanks -- but Andy jerks away.\n\nAndy is intrigued. She's coming to play! Andy gestures to\nthe Ref and points UP. The Ref looks away -- and Andy SLAPS\nFoxy.\n\nThe crowd furiously JEERS. The Ref spins around, and Andy\nshrugs", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "shake hands, go to\n\tyour corners, and come out\n\twrestling.\n\nLynne extends her hand. Andy fakes a shake -- then snidely\nrefuses and struts away. The crowd HISSES.\n\nDING! It's the bell. The match begins. Lynne barrels at\nhim, craving a victory, but terribly unprepared for this\nexperience. Andy immediately grabs her by the legs and\nflips her over.\n\nWHUMP! She's down. Andy has", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "innocence. He then runs at Foxy and theatrically\npushes her into the ropes. She bounces off, stumbles back -\n- and Andy drops to his knees. She trips over him and hits\nthe mat.\n\nAndy aggressively jumps onto Foxy's shoulders and pins her.\nThe Ref counts: One! Two! Three! DING!!\n\nIt's over. But Andy stays on her, shaking his ass, leering\nrudely. Jerry Lawler yells from the corner.\n", "\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tAlright, you won. GET OFF HER!\n\nAndy remains, flapping his arms like a chicken.\n\nTHE BOOING grows. Louder. More emotional.\n\n\t\tANGRY VOICES\n\tJerry, help her! Get in there! Do\n\tsomething!\n\nLawler hesitates -- then suddenly climbs in the ring and\nlifts Andy off! Lawler angrily PUSHES Andy down.\n\nAndy is flabbergasted.\n\n\t", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "trained for this.\n\nZmuda gets on his knees, watching, trying to look official.\nLynne struggles and slithers away.\n\nShe grabs Andy's arm and forces him down. People CHEER.\nHis torso hits the mat. LOUDER CHEERS. But suddenly he\nrolls over and pulls her hair! Her head snaps back. The\ncrowd is INCENSED. Zmuda hurries over and pantomimes a\nstern warning.\n\nAndy nods, and they separate. ", "out... a feisty\nwoman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI wanna kill that jerk.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER\n\nAndy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches\nhim preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS REFEREE)\n\tWill you please", "CKING\n\tBASTARD!!\n\t\t(he SLAMS the door\n\t\tbehind him)\n\tWe had a fuckin' deal, and THAT\n\tCOCKSUCKER SHAFTED ME!!\n\nEd is seething. His SECRETARY timidly speaks.\n\n\t\tSECRETARY\n\tUm, Ed... you have a phone call --\n\n\t\tED\n\tI'M NOT IN!\n\n\t\tSECRETARY\n\tWell, um... it's Andy Kaufman...\n\nHeh??", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the" ], [ "good old-fashioned\n\tentertainment. Everyone loves a\n\tvillain.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tYeah? Well tell that to the poor\n\tschlub who you humiliated!\n\nBeat -- then Bob strolls over. His real name is BOB ZMUDA.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tHey Andy, good show.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tOh George, this is Bob Zmuda. Bob\n\tand I have been buddies for years.\n\nGeorge g", "\n\t\t(mocking)\n\tWhat're you talking about? Andy\n\tcomes here almost every weekend.\n\nZmuda's jaw drops, stupefied.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYou're talking about... Andy?\n\n\t\tMADAM\n\tOh, he doesn't always call himself\n\tthat. Sometimes he's Tony, and\n\twears a tux.\n\nDisbelief -- then Zmuda LAUGHS sharply. He's been conned.\n\nINT. MUSTANG", "reads one paragraph.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\"Was this in actuality Andy Kaufman?\n\tAnd if it was Andy Kaufman, is Andy\n\tKaufman crazy?\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he chortles)\n\tBoy, they totally fell for it! I'm\n\tonly acting crazy!\n\nHmm. A few awkward glances.\n\nThen -- Andy grins at his meal.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tBoy, this is tasty.\n\t\t", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\nAndy gulps.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGeorge -- it's true.\n\nINT. DENNY'S BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\nGeorge confronts Zmuda.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tIf I find out you're behind this,\n\tI'll kill you.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tWhat are ya TALKIN' ABOUT?! I was\n\tthe one saying I didn't believe it!\n\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tExactly. That", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "out... a feisty\nwoman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI wanna kill that jerk.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER\n\nAndy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches\nhim preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS REFEREE)\n\tWill you please", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "\nand inside, taking off the rubber Tony makeup, is Zmuda.\n\nGeorge starts hyperventilating. Shaking, he tries to sit\nhimself down. Andy enters, beaming. George is amazed.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tYou're so proud. You're like some\n\tretarded kid comin' home from\n\tschool: \"Look, Dad, I got an F!\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tBut wasn't it funny?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\"Funny\"? I dun", "\n\nMaynard is baffled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\t\"Technical\"???\n\nINT. \"KAUFMAN SPECIAL\" SET, TECH BOOTH - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is in a booth, arguing with a HEAVYSET TECHNICIAN.\nZmuda watches and eats a banana.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's my show! Now make it roll!\n\n\t\tTECHNICIAN\n\tNO!\n\nMaynard strolls up,", "the crowd, followed by his\nentourage. A soft object HITS Stanley on the head.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM, CORRIDOR - NIGHT\n\nAndy is being carried by the Coliseum EMPLOYEES into the\ndressing room. The entourage follows. Zmuda pushes out the\ncrowd of REPORTERS, PHOTOGRAPHERS, and ONLOOKERS. He slams\nthe door and locks it.\n\nINT. MID-SO", "less.\n\nINT. SPA, ANDY'S ROOM - LATER THAT DAY\n\nZmuda angrily packs Andy's bags. Zmuda is seething.\n\nBut Andy is strangely calm and unaffected.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's okay, Bob. It wasn't really\n\tworking.\n\t\t(a gentle smile)\n\tWe'll find something better.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE, KITCHEN - DAY\n\nLynne and Little Wend", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "XI curtain calls. The whole cast takes bows, then runs\noffstage. Everyone is grinning -- except Andy.\n\nHe soberly strolls up to Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI'm gonna quit.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tWhat?!?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tEach show is worse than the next.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tAre you nuts?! 40 million people\n\twatch you every week!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSo? What do they know?", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "the\n\thoaxes...\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(defensive)\n\tHey -- that stuff gets written-up in\n\tthe papers --\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tWho gives a shit?! It's not funny!\n\nGEORGE - is dumbfounded.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(to himself)\n\tWhy...? Andy, why...?\n\nON ANDY AND ZMUDA\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tI used to think you were", "Andy Kaufman.\" But that spoils it.\n\tSo NOW, Tony denying being me is the\n\ttruth! Tony's not me! But maybe he\n\tis! The audience will never know...\n\t\t(giddy)\n\tThey'll think they're laughin' at me\n\t-- but actually I'll be laughin' at\n\tthem, because they're wrong and I'm\n\tright!\n\nGeorge is dazed.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSo you've got", "ries down front, looking for the loud jerk.\nHe scans the tables... and it's Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN) (cont'd)\n\tBut right now --\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\t\"But right now I would like to do\n\tfor you some imitations. First, the\n\tArchie Bunker.\"\n\nAndy freezes up.\n\nThe audience is embarrassed.\n\nA frazzled confusion, then Andy drops the accent. He gl", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n" ], [ "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "frightened parents, in a neck brace, on the stretcher,\netc.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nGeorge, Zmuda and Andy are looking through hundreds of\nclippings from the newspapers.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(reading aloud)\n\t\"... has been rushed to a nearby\n\thospital, where doctors are checking\n\thim for possible paralysis. His\n\tparents are at his bedside. Fans\n\twill best remember Kaufman as\n\tlovable Latka on", "beat)\n\tCarnegie Hall...!\n\nGeorge gently smiles.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NATIONAL ENQUIRER OFFICES - DAY\n\nA STAFF meeting at the National Enquirer.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tI'm working on a great cover story:\n\tI've got a guy in the lab at Cedars.\n\tHe says Andy Kaufman is dying of\n\tlung cancer.\n\nBeat. The room GROANS.\n\n\t", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", ". I have lung cancer.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThat's ridiculous. You don't even\n\tsmoke.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(emphatic)\n\tI -- I got some freaky rare kind.\n\tIt's called large-celled carcinoma.\n\nLynne's eyes tear up. She hugs onto Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tJesus, Andy! Can they cure it?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThey don't know... they've gotta", "chaise lounges, serenely staring out.\nAndy has a blank look on his face, and has lost more weight.\nHe is a shadow of himself.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI can't move my arm.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(awkwardly)\n\tYou've got good days and bad days.\n\nAndy softly sighs.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tMy hair is coming out.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(whispers)\n\tYeah...\n\nGeorge silently pats", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "reads one paragraph.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\"Was this in actuality Andy Kaufman?\n\tAnd if it was Andy Kaufman, is Andy\n\tKaufman crazy?\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he chortles)\n\tBoy, they totally fell for it! I'm\n\tonly acting crazy!\n\nHmm. A few awkward glances.\n\nThen -- Andy grins at his meal.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tBoy, this is tasty.\n\t\t", "\n\tExcuse me -- but could Andy tell us\n\twhy we're here???\n\nAll heads turn. A long pause.\n\nThen -- Andy stiffly speaks.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI have cancer.\n\nBeat. Zmuda nods.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tHey, that's good! We can make that\n\tplay.\n\t\t(spitballing)\n\tAnd we'll really drag it out. You\n\tget better, you get worse... you\n\tdie...\n", ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "AME TIME\n\nLorne Michaels is watching this at home. He gapes in\ndisbelief.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tJesus Christ.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - ONE WEEK LATER\n\nA SMUG COMIC stands on stage, speaking into camera. The\nshow's going out live.\n\n\t\tSMUG COMIC\n\tHi. Um, we were supposed to have\n\tAndy Kaufman", "Man on the Moon\n\n\n Man on the Moon (1999)\n by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski.\n\n\nFADE IN:\n\nINT. VOID - DAY\n\nStanding in a nonexistent set is ANDY KAUFMAN, looking a bit\nnervous. Wide-eyed, tentative, he stares at us with a\nneedy, unsettling cuteness. His hair is slicked-down, and\nhe wears the \"FRIENDLY WORLD\" costume from the Andy", "ful radiation.\n\nINT. CEDARS SINAI, DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY\n\nThe whole Kaufman family is gathered. Stanley, Janice,\nMichael and Carol listen to a BLAND DOCTOR in a white coat.\n\n\t\tDOCTOR\n\tThe cancer started in Andy's left\n\tarm and spread to his lungs. We've\n\tinitiated an aggressive radiation\n\tprogram... see if we can eradicate\n\tthe affected cells.\n\t\t(his BEEPER goes\n\t\toff)\n\tEx", "stuck in the\n\thospital, running tests all day.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tAnd anyway, I've found a new guy\n\twho's gonna be able to instantly\n\tremove the cancer.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(startled)\n\tReally?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah! He's a psychic surgeon in the\n\tPhilippines, and he's amazing! He\n\trubs you and sucks the disease right\n\tout!\n\nAndy beams. George stares sadly.", "CKING\n\tBASTARD!!\n\t\t(he SLAMS the door\n\t\tbehind him)\n\tWe had a fuckin' deal, and THAT\n\tCOCKSUCKER SHAFTED ME!!\n\nEd is seething. His SECRETARY timidly speaks.\n\n\t\tSECRETARY\n\tUm, Ed... you have a phone call --\n\n\t\tED\n\tI'M NOT IN!\n\n\t\tSECRETARY\n\tWell, um... it's Andy Kaufman...\n\nHeh??", "able, and we'd all be\n\tgoing, \"Poor Andy, he's really\n\tsick.\" So he chose lung cancer,\n\tbecause he WANTS us to be scratching\n\tour heads, saying, \"Is this real?\"\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\t\t(trying to convince\n\t\therself)\n\tOf course it's real. We're in a\n\thospital...\n\n\t\tMICHAEL\n\tMom, it's Cedars-Sinai! It's a", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n" ], [ "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", " Lorne Michaels nods.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOkay. It'd be good to have the old\n\tAndy back.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. DAVID LETTERMAN SHOW - NIGHT\n\nAndy and Jerry Lawler are on DAVID LETTERMAN'S show. Andy\nis pallid, hair shaggy, in a neckbrace and tweed jacket.\nHusky Lawler wears loud red pants and gold chains.\n\nAnd", "y speaks timidly, seeming a bit dazed and regretful.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI apologize for all the wrestling\n\tI've ever done. I'm sorry for all\n\tthe abuse I've ever given...\n\t\t(soft)\n\tI was just playing bad guy wrestler.\n\tThat's not me... it's just a role.\n\tBut Jerry took it personally.\n\nLawler and Letterman are unimpressed.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n", "s desk. Dave jerks nervously.\n\nCrazed, Andy looks down at Dave's coffee cup. Uh-oh.\nSuddenly, Andy grabs the coffee and DUMPS it on Lawler!\n\nLawler jumps, burned. A SECURITY GUARD runs in.\n\nAndy screams and hurtles away. He slams open the stage door\nand barrels out of sight.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. LORNE MICHAELS' HOUSE - S", "runs for the ropes and jumps out of the ring.\n\nBOOOOO!!! Andy grins at the crowd and points at his brain:\nI'm smarter.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring!\n\tLawler's waiting for him to return.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(to Zmuda)\n\tIs this a strategy?\n\nLawler disparagingly frowns. The REF checks his watch.\nAndy crosses to the", "world thought that\n\twrestling was real.\nAndy gulps emotionally.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWe'll stay in touch. Next time I'm\n\tin Memphis, I'll stop by the house,\n\tand Noreen can make me her double\n\tchocolate cake.\n\n\t\tJERRY LAWLER\n\tAlright, buddy...\n\t\t(choked up)\n\tStay good.\n\nAndy and Jerry hug.\n\nA touching beat... until Andy gets a Quixotic gleam.\n", "\tANDY\n\tW-what are you DOING? I don't fight\n\tmen!\n\nLawler snickers and walks away. Completely overreacting,\nAndy grabs the mike.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'm gonna SUE YOU!\n\t\t(he starts RANTING\n\t\tberserkly)\n\tLet me tell you something, Lawler!\n\tI am not a hick -- I'm a national TV\n\tstar! And I DON'T like a", "\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tAlright, you won. GET OFF HER!\n\nAndy remains, flapping his arms like a chicken.\n\nTHE BOOING grows. Louder. More emotional.\n\n\t\tANGRY VOICES\n\tJerry, help her! Get in there! Do\n\tsomething!\n\nLawler hesitates -- then suddenly climbs in the ring and\nlifts Andy off! Lawler angrily PUSHES Andy down.\n\nAndy is flabbergasted.\n\n\t", "ve\n\tbrought a real wrestler! She's\n\ttrained and she's READY!! Kaufman,\n\tdo you think you can handle... FOXY\n\tJACKSON???!!!\n\nAt that, a striking, muscular black woman stands -- FOXY.\n\nThe coliseum SCREAMS with excitement. People POUND their\nseats. The roar is deafening. Lawler gleams cockily.\nLynne looks worriedly at Andy -- he's concerned.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t C", "?! Well I got news for you,\n\tAndy Kaufman! Wrestling is a\n\tserious sport to me! I don't like\n\tanyone makin' fun of it, and I hate\n\tanyone insultin' the South! So we\n\tcan settle this two ways: We can go\n\tto court... or you can get in the\n\tring with a man, and wrestle for\n\tREAL!\n\nAndy watches, fuming. He is INFURIATED.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHe", "opposite end of the ring, gauging his\nrival... then slowly climbs in --\n\nUntil the second Lawler moves. Then Andy leaps back out!\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring again!\n\tHe doesn't seem interested in\n\tactually making contact with his\n\topponent.\n\nAndy struts around the floor, pointing to his brain. He\nsmirks at various spectators... until he finds himself face-\nto-face with -- his parents.\n\n", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "out... a feisty\nwoman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI wanna kill that jerk.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER\n\nAndy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches\nhim preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS REFEREE)\n\tWill you please", ". From a safe distance, he\nstarts SCREAMING at Lawler.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tYOU ARE FULL OF SHIT, Lawler! I\n\tWILL SUE YOUR ASS! YOU'RE A FUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!\n\t\t(he POUNDS the desk)\n\tFUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I WILL GET YOU\n\tFOR THIS!!!\n\nFreaked, Andy leaps up and storms out.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN", "\nDead silence. Everyone is astonished.\n\nThey're all slack-jawed. Even PAUL SHAFFER. Trying to\ncover, Paul hurriedly kicks in with a ROCKABILLY TUNE.\n\nAndy jumps up, crazed.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS SHIT!\n\nLawler freezes in his seat. Letterman hides behind his\ndesk.\n\nAndy storms over, out-of-control", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!" ], [ "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "ER. He feels bad.\n\n\t\tJERRY LAWLER\n\tI'm sorry. We thought it was\n\tfunny...\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tJer', it's not your fault. You were\n\tterrific.\n\t\t(sad)\n\tBut maybe George is right...\n\n\t\tJERRY LAWLER\n\tThat's fine. But I wouldn't have\n\ttraded it for anything...\n\t\t(poignant)\n\tBecause for one brief, shining\n\tmoment... the", "y speaks timidly, seeming a bit dazed and regretful.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI apologize for all the wrestling\n\tI've ever done. I'm sorry for all\n\tthe abuse I've ever given...\n\t\t(soft)\n\tI was just playing bad guy wrestler.\n\tThat's not me... it's just a role.\n\tBut Jerry took it personally.\n\nLawler and Letterman are unimpressed.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n", "\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tAlright, you won. GET OFF HER!\n\nAndy remains, flapping his arms like a chicken.\n\nTHE BOOING grows. Louder. More emotional.\n\n\t\tANGRY VOICES\n\tJerry, help her! Get in there! Do\n\tsomething!\n\nLawler hesitates -- then suddenly climbs in the ring and\nlifts Andy off! Lawler angrily PUSHES Andy down.\n\nAndy is flabbergasted.\n\n\t", "world thought that\n\twrestling was real.\nAndy gulps emotionally.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWe'll stay in touch. Next time I'm\n\tin Memphis, I'll stop by the house,\n\tand Noreen can make me her double\n\tchocolate cake.\n\n\t\tJERRY LAWLER\n\tAlright, buddy...\n\t\t(choked up)\n\tStay good.\n\nAndy and Jerry hug.\n\nA touching beat... until Andy gets a Quixotic gleam.\n", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", "is losing his patience.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tHey! Did you come down here to\n\twrestle, or to act like an ass?\n\nAndy paces around, unsure of his next move.\n\n\t\tLAWLER (cont'd)\n\tLook... if you get in here, I'll\n\tgive you a free headlock.\n\nLawler leans down and offers his neck.\n\nAndy peers skeptically. People JEER. Andy looks at waiting\nLawler... then tentatively clim", " Lorne Michaels nods.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOkay. It'd be good to have the old\n\tAndy back.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. DAVID LETTERMAN SHOW - NIGHT\n\nAndy and Jerry Lawler are on DAVID LETTERMAN'S show. Andy\nis pallid, hair shaggy, in a neckbrace and tweed jacket.\nHusky Lawler wears loud red pants and gold chains.\n\nAnd", "\tANDY\n\tW-what are you DOING? I don't fight\n\tmen!\n\nLawler snickers and walks away. Completely overreacting,\nAndy grabs the mike.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'm gonna SUE YOU!\n\t\t(he starts RANTING\n\t\tberserkly)\n\tLet me tell you something, Lawler!\n\tI am not a hick -- I'm a national TV\n\tstar! And I DON'T like a", "opposite end of the ring, gauging his\nrival... then slowly climbs in --\n\nUntil the second Lawler moves. Then Andy leaps back out!\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring again!\n\tHe doesn't seem interested in\n\tactually making contact with his\n\topponent.\n\nAndy struts around the floor, pointing to his brain. He\nsmirks at various spectators... until he finds himself face-\nto-face with -- his parents.\n\n", "You're a wimp.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(upset)\n\tMy father said I should've gotten a\n\tlawyer --!\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tThen your father's a wimp.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(losing it)\n\tAnd you're just poor white trash!\n\nLawler's had enough. Enraged, he wildly stands and SLAPS\nAndy.\n\nBAM!\n\nAndy crashes over and falls from his chair.\n\nTH", "Lawler promenades around the ring, arms over his\nhead. The crowd SHOUTS CRAZILY, rooting him on.\n\nLynne runs to the ropes, SCREAMING for help.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tANDY!!!\n\t\t(frantic)\n\tSomebody get a DOCTOR!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(yelling)\n\tWE NEED A STRETCHER!!\n\nStanley, totally numbed, holds Janice. They're on the verge\nof", "ve\n\tbrought a real wrestler! She's\n\ttrained and she's READY!! Kaufman,\n\tdo you think you can handle... FOXY\n\tJACKSON???!!!\n\nAt that, a striking, muscular black woman stands -- FOXY.\n\nThe coliseum SCREAMS with excitement. People POUND their\nseats. The roar is deafening. Lawler gleams cockily.\nLynne looks worriedly at Andy -- he's concerned.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t C", "runs for the ropes and jumps out of the ring.\n\nBOOOOO!!! Andy grins at the crowd and points at his brain:\nI'm smarter.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring!\n\tLawler's waiting for him to return.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(to Zmuda)\n\tIs this a strategy?\n\nLawler disparagingly frowns. The REF checks his watch.\nAndy crosses to the", "Andy storms over, out-of-control. From a safe distance, he\nstarts SCREAMING at Lawler.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tYOU ARE FULL OF SHIT, Lawler! I\n\tWILL SUE YOUR ASS! YOU'RE A FUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!\n\t\t(he POUNDS the desk)\n\tFUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I WILL GET YOU\n\tFOR THIS!!!\n\nFreaked, Andy leaps up and", "ANICE\n\tJESUS CHRIST!!!!!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWhy isn't he MOVING??\n\nAndy's parents' reaction is a fiesta for photographers.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tLawler has committed a PILEDRIVER,\n\twhich is an AUTOMATIC\n\tDISQUALIFICATION! Match goes to\n\tKaufman by disqualification, after\n\ttwo minutes, twelve seconds!\nAndy is splayed unconscious.\n\nRaging", ". From a safe distance, he\nstarts SCREAMING at Lawler.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tYOU ARE FULL OF SHIT, Lawler! I\n\tWILL SUE YOUR ASS! YOU'RE A FUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!\n\t\t(he POUNDS the desk)\n\tFUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I WILL GET YOU\n\tFOR THIS!!!\n\nFreaked, Andy leaps up and storms out.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN", "t care. He\npicks up Andy's prone body and grips it upside-down. Janice\ncovers her eyes. Stanley is worried.\n\n\t\tREFEREE\n\t\t(frantically\n\t\tgesturing)\n\tNO! NO!\n\nLawler disregards the Ref and slams Andy's head in a pile-\ndriver!!\n\nA horrible THUD.\n\nDING! The BELL immediately RINGS.\n\nJANICE opens her eyes and SCREAMS.\n\n\t\tJ", "innocence. He then runs at Foxy and theatrically\npushes her into the ropes. She bounces off, stumbles back -\n- and Andy drops to his knees. She trips over him and hits\nthe mat.\n\nAndy aggressively jumps onto Foxy's shoulders and pins her.\nThe Ref counts: One! Two! Three! DING!!\n\nIt's over. But Andy stays on her, shaking his ass, leering\nrudely. Jerry Lawler yells from the corner.\n" ], [ "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "Tony called me himself.\n\tHe yelled at me, insisting that his\n\tdressing room be bigger than Andy's.\n\tThey're both going on tonight,\n\tbelieve me!\n\nGeorge is stupefied. He looks at his watch.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. LAKE TAHOE - DUSK\n\nMagnificent HARRAH'S dominates the skyline. The marquee\nblares \"TONY CLIFTON AND ANDY KAUFMAN", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", "marquee says \"TEXAS A&M PRESENTS - ANDY KAUFMAN\"\n\nInside, a ROAR of APPLAUSE surges.\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is walking onstage. The excited CLAPPING swells. He's\na gigantic presence to these people.\n\nAndy smiles and bows.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThank you. It's great to be here.\n\tWe're going to have a very nice\n", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "SEUM, DRESSING ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is meditating, eyes shut, at rest in his private oasis.\nSuddenly -- DESPERATE BANGING on the door.\n\n\t\tUPSET VOICE (O.S.)\n\tC'MON, KAUFMAN! Christ, you're ON!\n\nAndy awakens. He smiles.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - NIGHT\n\nThe THEME FROM \"MIGHTY MOUSE\" begins playing. Then, AND", "AME TIME\n\nLorne Michaels is watching this at home. He gapes in\ndisbelief.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tJesus Christ.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - ONE WEEK LATER\n\nA SMUG COMIC stands on stage, speaking into camera. The\nshow's going out live.\n\n\t\tSMUG COMIC\n\tHi. Um, we were supposed to have\n\tAndy Kaufman", "beat)\n\tCarnegie Hall...!\n\nGeorge gently smiles.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NATIONAL ENQUIRER OFFICES - DAY\n\nA STAFF meeting at the National Enquirer.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tI'm working on a great cover story:\n\tI've got a guy in the lab at Cedars.\n\tHe says Andy Kaufman is dying of\n\tlung cancer.\n\nBeat. The room GROANS.\n\n\t", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "\n\t\t(mocking)\n\tWhat're you talking about? Andy\n\tcomes here almost every weekend.\n\nZmuda's jaw drops, stupefied.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYou're talking about... Andy?\n\n\t\tMADAM\n\tOh, he doesn't always call himself\n\tthat. Sometimes he's Tony, and\n\twears a tux.\n\nDisbelief -- then Zmuda LAUGHS sharply. He's been conned.\n\nINT. MUSTANG", "Man on the Moon\n\n\n Man on the Moon (1999)\n by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski.\n\n\nFADE IN:\n\nINT. VOID - DAY\n\nStanding in a nonexistent set is ANDY KAUFMAN, looking a bit\nnervous. Wide-eyed, tentative, he stares at us with a\nneedy, unsettling cuteness. His hair is slicked-down, and\nhe wears the \"FRIENDLY WORLD\" costume from the Andy", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "\t\tBUDD\n\tGeorge, you won't believe it... I\n\tgot Andy to do all the old material!\n\t\t(grinning)\n\tAnd he's killin' them!\n\nInside, there's HUGE LAUGHTER. George's eyes widen.\nPiqued, he goes in...\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - NIGHT\n\nAnd it's packed! Andy is onstage, playing struggling,\nlovable Foreign Man.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FO" ], [ "ittle blue material...\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI don't swear. I -- I don't do what\n\teveryone else does!\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tWell, everyone else gets this place\n\tcookin'! Pal, it's hard for me to\n\tmove the booze when you're singin'\n\t\"Pop Goes The Weasel.\"\n\nAndy stares, disheartened.\n\t\t MANAGER (cont'd)\n\tI'm sorry. You're finished here", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "'t even pay me!\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tLook -- I don't wanna seem\n\tinsulting. But... your act is like\n\tamateur hour: Singalongs...\n\tpuppets... playing records...\n\nA stunned beat. Andy is hurt.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWhat do you want? \"Take my wife,\n\tplease\"??\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tSure! Comedy! Make jokes about the\n\ttraffic. Do impressions. Maybe a\n\tl", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening", "ANDY\n\t\"And the bird says...\"\n\n\t\tDRUNK AUDIENCE\n\tTWEET!!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\"And the lion goes...\"\n\n\t\tDRUNK AUDIENCE\n\tROAR!!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\"And that's the way it goes!\"\n\t\t(he grins)\n\tThank you. Goodbye!\n\nAndy waves and bows. There's faint scattered applause.\n\nAndy sighs. An irritated MANAGER steps onstage. He shoot", "h-heh. How ya all doin'?\n\nThe crowd is furious.\n\n\t\tANGRY GUY\n\tFuck you!\n\nPeople light back up and start talking. Tony ignores the\nruckus. He starts SINGING, pinched and off-key.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\t\t(singing)\n\t\"Volare!\n\t Whoa, whoa.\n\t Cantare,\n\t Whoa whoa whoa whoa.\"\n\nGeorge winces. He's", "The show is on. Andy effusively PLAYS his conga drum and\nSINGS nonsense words to \"Allouette, Gentille Alloutte.\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tAbbu daba, abi abbu daba! Abbu\n\tdaba, abu dabu do!\n\t\t(to the crowd)\n\tAbbu dabbu da ba do...!\n\nEveryone repeats. In the audience, George sings along too.\n\n\t\tAUDIENCE\n\tABBU DABBU DA BA DO!!", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "Kelbos -- all the Mai Tai's\n\tyou can drink for $4.99.\n\nTony jauntily turns to exit. He gestures to the ladies.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (cont'd)\n\tLet's go!\n\t\t(he starts SINGING\n\t\t\"New York, New\n\t\tYork\")\n\t\"These vagabond blues,\n\t Are washin' away.\n\t I'll make a brand new start of\n\tit...\"\n\nTony reaches the doorway -- and collaps", ".\n\nAn uncomfortable beat -- and then Andy starts crying.\n\nThe manager is dumbfounded. He doesn't know what to do.\n\nTears are rolling pitifully down Andy's cheeks. The manager\nis confused -- totally disoriented. Shamed, Andy covers his\nface, then runs out. Silence. The manager stares after\nhim... having no idea what just happened.\n\nEXT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - NIGHT\n\nSobbing Andy bursts out the door. He steps onto", "goes......\"\n\n\t\tCAROL\n\tWOOF!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\"And the cat says......\"\n\n\t\t\t\t DISSOLVE TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - NIGHT\n\nTIGHT on ANDY, now GROWN UP. 26-years-old, still performing\nthe song.\n\n\t\tDRUNK AUDIENCE\n\tMEOW!!\n\nWIDE - It's a small, hip New York nightclub.\n\n\t\t", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", " We hear little Andy\ndoing VOICES.\n\n\t\tANDY (O.S.)\n\t\t(as WORRIED GIRL)\n\tBut professor, why are the monsters\n\tgrowing so big?\n\t\t(now as BRITISH\n\t\tPROFESSOR)\n\tIt's something in the jungle water.\n\tI need to crack the secret code.\n\nStanley rolls his eyes. He opens the door...\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, ANDY'S ROOM - 19", "discombobulated expressions. They\nstare up at the PROJECTED ANDY.\n\n\t\tANDY (ON FILM)\n\tWell... My show is over. I did my\n\tbest, and I just want to say, until\n\twe meet again... please remember:\n\t\t(he begins to SING)\n\t\"In this friendly, friendly world...\n\t With each day so full of joy.\n\t Why should any heart be lonely.\"\n\nSome gathered people tentatively join in the SINGING.\n\n\t\tANDY (ON F", "\nA pause -- but no applause. It's dead silence. Andy looks\nout... and realizes the few audience members are asleep.\n\nAndy shrugs, then shuffles off-stage.\n\nIn the wings, Zmuda snores loudly in a folding chair.\n\nEXT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - DAWN\n\nAndy and Zmuda walk out, Zmuda squinting groggily. They\ndrag the suitcase containing the props. They walk slowly\ntowards their rental car, the campus", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", "no\n\ttalent.\n\t\t(he shrugs)\n\tI'm a song-and-dance man.\n\nGeorge looks up at Andy -- and inexplicably there is a giant\nMOIST BOOGER hanging from Andy's nostril.\n\nGeorge cringes. He doesn't know what to say.\n\nA waitress brings over two plates of awful 70's HEALTH FOOD\n-- seaweed, beans, stringy paste. George frowns. Andy\nbeams.\n\n\t\tAND", "\ttime. We'll sing some songs --\n\t\t\t\tSORORITY GIRL\n\tDO LATKA!!\n\nAndy reacts, perturbed. He struggles to stay composed.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tUh, we'll play with puppets --\n\n\t\tDRUNKS IN UNISON\n\tLATKA! LATTTTKAAAA!!!\n\nAndy scowls. Then -- he loses it.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tExcuse me one moment.\n\nAndy" ], [ "\t\t(no change in his\n\t\tvoice)\n\t\"Hello, I am Jimmy Carter, the\n\tPresident of the United States.\"\n\nSome people BOO and walk out. A few giggle, getting into\nthe groove.\n\nGeorge is intrigued.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN) (cont'd)\n\tAnd now... I would like to imitate\n\tthe Elvis Presley.\n\nA woman LAUGHS caustically. Andy grins stupidly, then turns\nhis back to us.", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "ries down front, looking for the loud jerk.\nHe scans the tables... and it's Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN) (cont'd)\n\tBut right now --\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\t\"But right now I would like to do\n\tfor you some imitations. First, the\n\tArchie Bunker.\"\n\nAndy freezes up.\n\nThe audience is embarrassed.\n\nA frazzled confusion, then Andy drops the accent. He gl", "Kaufman\nspecial.\n\nFinally, Andy speaks -- in a peculiar FOREIGN ACCENT.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tHallo. I am Andy. Welcoom to my\n\tmovie.\n\t\t(beat; he gets upset)\n\tI hoped the story of my life would\n\tbe nice...but it turned out\n\tterrible! It is all LIES! Tings\n\tare mixed up... real people I knew\n\tplay different people. WHAT A MESS!\n\t", "\t\tBUDD\n\tGeorge, you won't believe it... I\n\tgot Andy to do all the old material!\n\t\t(grinning)\n\tAnd he's killin' them!\n\nInside, there's HUGE LAUGHTER. George's eyes widen.\nPiqued, he goes in...\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - NIGHT\n\nAnd it's packed! Andy is onstage, playing struggling,\nlovable Foreign Man.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FO", "- LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy is packing up his things. He very methodically folds\neach item of clothing, then checks the creases.\n\nGeorge strolls up.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, I really enjoyed your set.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tTank you veddy much.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tSo I understand you're from\n\tLithuania?\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tNo. Cas", "and\n\tmeatballs. Her cooking is so bad...\n\tis terrible.\n\nPeople are embarrassed. Some avert their eyes. A couple\nhipsters laugh mockingly.\n\nGeorge leans forward. Andy wipes the sweat from his brow.\n\t\t ANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN) (cont'd)\n\tRight now, I would like to do for\n\tyou some imitations. So first, I\n\twould like to imitate Archie Bunker.\n\t\t(no change in his\n\t\t", "REIGN MAN)\n\t... but one ting I do not like is\n\ttoo much traffic. Tonight I had to\n\tcome on de freeway, and it was so\n\tmuch traffic...\n\t\t(giggling)\n\tIt took me an hour and a half to get\n\there!\n\nForeign Man chuckles pathetically.\n\nThe crowd HOWLS. Andy's rockin'.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN) (cont'd)\n\tBut talking about the terrible\n\tthings: My", "re'd guides George to a booth. A small BAND fills\nthe \"stage\" -- a six-foot space in the back of the room.\n\nThe lights dim. A BLARING ANNOUNCER speaks.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd now, Mama Roma's is proud to\n\tpresent International Singing\n\tSensation... a man who has sold more\n\trecords than Elvis and the Beatles\n\tcombined...\n\nGeorge is skeptical.\n\n\t\tANNOUNC", "his place in front of a\nprepared row of congas. He starts to play.\n\nTony Clifton grabs the microphone.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tThank you! Thank you! I wrote this\n\ttune for my friend Frank Sinatra.\n\tHe had a nice little success with\n\tit... but forgot to thank me on the\n\talbum.\n\nHe starts to BELT \"I Gotta Be Me\".\n\nGeorge squints his eyes, trying to figure out who this is.\n\n\t\tTON", "wife. Take my --\n\n\t\tINTERRUPTING JERK\n\t\"Take my wife, please take her.\"\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tT-take my wife, please take her...\n\nThe rhythm is thrown. A couple laughs.\n\nA flustered pause. Andy glances down, then continues.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN) (cont'd)\n\tNo really, I am only foolink. I\n\tlove my wife very much. But she\n", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "headlights. He puts down his big case, pulls out various\njunk, and arranges it on chairs.\n\nThe room hushes, uncertain as to who the hell this guy is.\nAndy tentatively grabs the mike. The stagefright is agony.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tNow? Now...?\n\t\t(looking around)\n\tTank you veddy much. I am very\n\thappy to be here. I tink -- this is\n\ta very beautiful place. But", ":\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tTank you veddy much...!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. NY IMPROV - 1975 - NIGHT\n\nThe Improv, the biggest comedy club around. People are\nlined up, waiting. The man strides up -- GEORGE SHAPIRO, a\nHollywood talent manager. George is old school: Bronx\naccent, shmooze and a hug... but with a surprising sweetness\nthat is quite dis", "voice)\n\t\"You stupid, everybody ees stupid!\n\tEhh, get, get out of my chair\n\tMeathead... go in the, eh, Dingbat\n\tget into the kitchen, making the\n\tfood! Ehh, everybody ees stupid! I\n\tdon't like nobody, ees so stupid!\"\n\tTank you veddy much.\n\t\t(pleased, he proudly\n\t\tbows)\n\tNow I would like to imitate Jimmy\n\tCarter, the President of the United\n\tStates.\n", "Budd over. Budd leans down, and George WHISPERS.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tPst. What's the story with this\n\tguy?\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tI think he's Lithuanian. None of us\n\tcan understand him.\n\nGeorge nods admiringly.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHe does a hell of an Elvis.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY IMPROV, BACKSTAGE - 1975", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "He is ELVIS. CONFIDENT. SEXY. LIP CURL. DEAD-ON PERFECT.\n\nThe crowd is blown away.\n\nVegas Elvis INTRO MUSIC suddenly blasts. Andy/Elvis\nswaggers stage left and takes a bow. Then he goes stage\nright and takes a bow. Then he returns stage left for\nanother bow.\n\nMusic STOPS.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS ELVIS)\n\tThank you very much.\n\nWow. Flabberg", "on the phone!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tWho?\n\n\t\tSECRETARY (O.S.)\n\tHe says he's an associate of Andy\n\tKaufman's.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tOh.\n\t\t(back to the phone)\n\tSammy, think about it. I gotta go.\n\t\t(he punches a line)\n\tHello? George Shapiro here.\n\nOn the phone, a STACCATO, ABRASIVE NASAL VOICE blares.\n\n" ], [ "\nGeorge sits across a conference table from three NETWORK\nSUITS. He stoically reads the men his demands.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tMr. Kaufman will only appear in half\n\tthe episodes.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman requires an undisturbed\n\t90 minutes of meditation prior to\n\tfilming.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman won't rehearse.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman gets his own network\n\tSpecial.\n\nThe execs are", "The execs stare at George like he's lost his\nmind.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tBut Andy says he's fabulous.\n\t\t(awkward)\n\tHe also says, these are the terms.\n\nThe execs' leader, MAYNARD SMITH, shudders hopelessly.\n\n\t\t NETWORK GUY #2\n\tCouldn't Kaufman ask for more money,\n\tlike everyone else?\n\nGeorge slowly, sadly shakes his head: No.\n\nMay", "\n\tTwenty!\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tTen.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tDeal.\n\nBoth men quickly extend their hands and shake. Maynard nods\nand leaves.\n\nBeat. Then, Andy pulls out a Handi-wipe and cleans his\npalm.\n\nA STUDIO PAGE walks over. He has a huge MAIL BAG.\n\n\t\tSTUDIO PAGE\n\tMr. Kaufman, do you want your mail?\n\nAndy looks up -- and his face lights up", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "table, they sneak into the restroom\n\tto get a little high...\n\nThe crowd CHEERS rowdily.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tI saw Michael!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWhere?\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\t\t(points to the set)\n\tThere!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET -", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "COM!!!!\n\nAndy's smile drops. He freezes up.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSitcom...?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAnd this is a CLASS ACT! It's the\n\tguys who did the Mary Tyler Moore\n\tand Bob Newhart shows! It takes\n\tplace in a taxi stand! And you're\n\tgonna be the Fonzie!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(confused)\n\tI'm -- Fonzie?\n\t\t GEORGE", "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "\n\tNO! The Fonzie! The crazy breakout\n\tcharacter! The guy that all the\n\tkids impersonate and put on their\n\tlunchboxes!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(soft)\n\tGeorge, I hate sitcoms.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHANG ON, you ain't heard the best\n\tpart! ABC has seen your foreign man\n\tcharacter, and they want to turn him\n\tinto --\n\t\t(he checks his\n\t\tnotes)\n\t\"Latka,\"", "powerful ABC exec.\nHe shouts into a phone.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tI don't care! Travolta signed a\n\tcontract, he's a Sweathog for\n\tlife!... Oh yeah? Just try to sue\n\tus.\n\nHe HANGS up. His ASSISTANT peeks her head in.\n\n\t\tASSISTANT\n\tSir, they're having a problem down\n\ton the Kaufman Special. They say\n\the's not following the... technical\n\trequirements.", "frightened parents, in a neck brace, on the stretcher,\netc.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nGeorge, Zmuda and Andy are looking through hundreds of\nclippings from the newspapers.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(reading aloud)\n\t\"... has been rushed to a nearby\n\thospital, where doctors are checking\n\thim for possible paralysis. His\n\tparents are at his bedside. Fans\n\twill best remember Kaufman as\n\tlovable Latka on", ", c'mon IN! Thanks for flyin'\n\tout here!!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe stewardess let me keep my\n\theadphones.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThat's... terrific! But I got\n\tsomething better. This is BIG...\n\t\t(giddy; milking the\n\t\tmoment)\n\tYou are getting a once-in-a-\n\tlifetime, unbelievably lucrative\n\topportunity to star on... a\n\tPRIMETIME NETWORK SIT", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "\n\t\tANDY\n\tHey. If I give you three-hundred\n\tdollars, will you come to LA and\n\thelp me destroy a TV show?\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET, REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY\n\nThe Taxi cast sits irritably around a big table, holding\nscripts. Ed Weinberger enters.\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\tED\n\tHe just arrived.\n\n\t\tCAR", "George is oblivious. He's staring up at a BILLBOARD.\nThe BILLBOARD: It says \"HARRAH'S TAHOE PRESENTS, ANDY\nKAUFMAN & TONY CLIFTON! TOGETHER ON STAGE! ONE NIGHT\nONLY!\"\n\nGeorge is flabbergasted.\n\nEXT. SUNSET BLVD, PHONEBOOTH - DAY\n\nGeorge is shouting into a payphone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tGene, you misunder", "\n\nMaynard is baffled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\t\"Technical\"???\n\nINT. \"KAUFMAN SPECIAL\" SET, TECH BOOTH - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is in a booth, arguing with a HEAVYSET TECHNICIAN.\nZmuda watches and eats a banana.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's my show! Now make it roll!\n\n\t\tTECHNICIAN\n\tNO!\n\nMaynard strolls up,", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!" ], [ "not a comedian. And\n\tsitcoms are the lowest form of\n\tentertainment: Stupid jokes and\n\tcanned laughter.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(shocked)\n\tB-but, this is classy... they did\n\tBob Newha--\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI'm not interested. I want to\n\tcreate my own material.\n\nBeat. George glares.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tYou have to do it.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI refuse", "\nGeorge sits across a conference table from three NETWORK\nSUITS. He stoically reads the men his demands.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tMr. Kaufman will only appear in half\n\tthe episodes.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman requires an undisturbed\n\t90 minutes of meditation prior to\n\tfilming.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman won't rehearse.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman gets his own network\n\tSpecial.\n\nThe execs are", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "ard\nscowls.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tChrist! We're the Number One\n\tNetwork -- can't we afford decent\n\tTVs?!\n\nMaynard angrily jumps and POUNDS on the TV. BANG, BANG!\nGeorge winces -- then mutters awkwardly.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tNo, um... it's part of the snow.\n\nAn awful beat.\n\nMaynard is embarrassed. Finally -- he explodes.\n\nMAYNARD\n\tTell Kauf", "Gee, restaurants are amazing,\n\taren't they? All these strangers\n\tsitting around... stuffing dead\n\tanimals in their faces! It's just\n\tincredible!\"\n\nShe GIGGLES more. The other three play baffled.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\t\"If you say so.\"\n\n\t\tACTOR\n\t\"Excuse me, I'll be right back.\"\n\nAndy stands and walks out.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "The execs stare at George like he's lost his\nmind.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tBut Andy says he's fabulous.\n\t\t(awkward)\n\tHe also says, these are the terms.\n\nThe execs' leader, MAYNARD SMITH, shudders hopelessly.\n\n\t\t NETWORK GUY #2\n\tCouldn't Kaufman ask for more money,\n\tlike everyone else?\n\nGeorge slowly, sadly shakes his head: No.\n\nMay", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "LYNNE\n\tI'm warning you, Kaufman: One\n\tmorning you're gonna wake up... and\n\tyour head's gonna be shaved.\n\nAndy laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge stares glumly at Andy. Andy is quite cheerful --\neating a big piece of chocolate cake.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy, do you realize you don't do\n\tcomedy anymore? ", "reads one paragraph.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\"Was this in actuality Andy Kaufman?\n\tAnd if it was Andy Kaufman, is Andy\n\tKaufman crazy?\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he chortles)\n\tBoy, they totally fell for it! I'm\n\tonly acting crazy!\n\nHmm. A few awkward glances.\n\nThen -- Andy grins at his meal.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tBoy, this is tasty.\n\t\t", "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "\n\nMaynard is baffled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\t\"Technical\"???\n\nINT. \"KAUFMAN SPECIAL\" SET, TECH BOOTH - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is in a booth, arguing with a HEAVYSET TECHNICIAN.\nZmuda watches and eats a banana.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's my show! Now make it roll!\n\n\t\tTECHNICIAN\n\tNO!\n\nMaynard strolls up,", "powerful ABC exec.\nHe shouts into a phone.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tI don't care! Travolta signed a\n\tcontract, he's a Sweathog for\n\tlife!... Oh yeah? Just try to sue\n\tus.\n\nHe HANGS up. His ASSISTANT peeks her head in.\n\n\t\tASSISTANT\n\tSir, they're having a problem down\n\ton the Kaufman Special. They say\n\the's not following the... technical\n\trequirements.", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", "In the audience, Michael locks eyes with Andy. An odd,\nknowing moment between the brothers. Michael whispers,\ngetting worried.\n\n\t\tMICHAEL\n\tAndy...!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nStanley and Janice feel as if the commercials are lasting\nforever.\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tWhy is Andy doing this? Why?...\n\tWhy?\n\nThe Fridays J" ], [ "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "AME TIME\n\nLorne Michaels is watching this at home. He gapes in\ndisbelief.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tJesus Christ.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - ONE WEEK LATER\n\nA SMUG COMIC stands on stage, speaking into camera. The\nshow's going out live.\n\n\t\tSMUG COMIC\n\tHi. Um, we were supposed to have\n\tAndy Kaufman", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", "on our show this week -\n\t- but now our producers aren't sure\n\tif it's such a good idea.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSome of us at Saturday Night Live\n\tthink Kaufman's a comic genius. But\n\tothers disagree... they say he's\n\tjust not funny anymore.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSo we're putting the decision up to\n\tyou. Please call up and vote. To\n\tkeep Andy, call 1-900-244-7618. To", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "George is oblivious. He's staring up at a BILLBOARD.\nThe BILLBOARD: It says \"HARRAH'S TAHOE PRESENTS, ANDY\nKAUFMAN & TONY CLIFTON! TOGETHER ON STAGE! ONE NIGHT\nONLY!\"\n\nGeorge is flabbergasted.\n\nEXT. SUNSET BLVD, PHONEBOOTH - DAY\n\nGeorge is shouting into a payphone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tGene, you misunder", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", "Tony called me himself.\n\tHe yelled at me, insisting that his\n\tdressing room be bigger than Andy's.\n\tThey're both going on tonight,\n\tbelieve me!\n\nGeorge is stupefied. He looks at his watch.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. LAKE TAHOE - DUSK\n\nMagnificent HARRAH'S dominates the skyline. The marquee\nblares \"TONY CLIFTON AND ANDY KAUFMAN", "out... a feisty\nwoman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI wanna kill that jerk.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER\n\nAndy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches\nhim preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS REFEREE)\n\tWill you please", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", "table, they sneak into the restroom\n\tto get a little high...\n\nThe crowd CHEERS rowdily.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tI saw Michael!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWhere?\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\t\t(points to the set)\n\tThere!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET -", "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening", "arming. A DOORMAN sees him, grins, and\nwaves George in.\n\nINT. NY IMPROV, BAR - 1975 - NIGHT\n\nThe bar is packed with COMICS and SHOW BIZ TYPES. A few\nturn and smile -- \"George!\" \"Hey, George!\" George takes a\ncouple hands, whispers to someone else, then drifts into\nthe...\n\nINT. NY IMPROV, SHOWROOM - 1975 - NIGHT\n\nWhere the show's in", "\n\nConfused, one Dude squints into the distance -- and his eyes\npop.\n\n\t\tDUDE #2\n\tOh my GOD.\n\t\t(stupefied)\n\tThat's the freakiest thing I've ever\n\tseen!! Look!\n\nHe points. His friend turns -- and gasps.\n\nAT THE COMEDY STORE - The marquee says \"TONY CLIFTON: LIVE!\"\n\n\t\tDUDE #1\n\tMan, we were right! He's not dead", "George Shapiro!\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nThe parents stare at the commercials. They're totally\ndisoriented.\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tWhat's in Memphis?\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWho knows?! That kid is totally\n\tmeshuga.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM, MEMPHIS - NIGHT\n\nMemphis wrestling. ", "LYNNE\n\tI'm warning you, Kaufman: One\n\tmorning you're gonna wake up... and\n\tyour head's gonna be shaved.\n\nAndy laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge stares glumly at Andy. Andy is quite cheerful --\neating a big piece of chocolate cake.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy, do you realize you don't do\n\tcomedy anymore? " ], [ "clowning, I\n\tdo find it so boorish. So...\n\tAmerican.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI prefer the fine arts. Henceforth,\n\ttonight, I'd like to grace you with\n\ta reading of the greatest novel ever\n\twritten!\n\t\t(he holds up the\n\t\tbook)\n\t\"The Great Gatsby\", by F. Scott\n\tFitzgerald!!\n\nBEAT.\n\nHeh? The crowd isn't quite clear if this is good or bad. A", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "riotous excursions with\n\tprivileged glimpses into the human\n\theart...\"\n\nPeople start BOOING. Andy looks up.\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH) (cont'd)\n\tPlease, let's keep it down. We have\n\ta long way to go.\n\t\t(he resumes reading)\n\t\"Only Gatsby, the man who gives his\n\tname to this book, was exempt from\n\tmy reaction - Gatsby, who\n\trepresented everything for which I\n\t", "puts the\nneedle on and to everyone's horror more \"Gatsby\" comes out.\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH-FROM THE RECORD)\n\t\"His presence gave the evening its\n\tpeculiar quality of oppressiveness -\n\tit stands out in my memory from\n\tGatsby's other parties that\n\tsummer...\"\n\n\t\t\t\t DISSOLVE TO:\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThere are six people left in the audience. Andy reads", "reads one paragraph.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\"Was this in actuality Andy Kaufman?\n\tAnd if it was Andy Kaufman, is Andy\n\tKaufman crazy?\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he chortles)\n\tBoy, they totally fell for it! I'm\n\tonly acting crazy!\n\nHmm. A few awkward glances.\n\nThen -- Andy grins at his meal.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tBoy, this is tasty.\n\t\t", "angrily hurries offstage.\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM, BACKSTAGE - NIGHT\n\nZmuda is with the congas and props. Andy runs up.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGive me the book.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(startled)\n\tNo! Andy, don't do it --\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThey're asking for it.\n\nAndy fiercely GRABS a small book from Zmuda. Zmuda cring", ".'\"\n\nThere's a little NERVOUS LAUGHTER. Is he really gonna read\nthis?\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH) (cont'd)\n\t\"He didn't say any more, but we've\n\talways been unusually communicative\n\tin a reserved way, and I understood\n\tthat he meant a great deal more than\n\tthat...\"\n\nSuddenly, somebody from the audience screams:\n\n\t\tFRAT BOY IN AUDIENCE\n\tLATKA!!!\n\nThe audience ROAR", "have an unaffected scorn...\"\n\nThe crowd is incredulous.\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH)\n\tChapter Two.\n\nThe crowd is horribly bored.\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM, BACKSTAGE - NIGHT\n\nThe clock says 11:30. The PROMOTER glares at Zmuda.\n\n\t\tPROMOTER\n\tIs he ever going to stop?\n\n\t\t", "\nconfused murmur.\n\t\t ANDY (BRITISH)\n\t\t(he cracks open the\n\t\tbook)\n\tChapter One.\n\t\t(he starts READING)\n\t\"In my younger and more vulnerable\n\tyears, my father gave me some advice\n\tthat I've been turning over in my\n\tmind ever since. 'Whenever you feel\n\tlike criticizing anyone,' he told\n\tme, 'just remember that all the\n\tpeople in this world haven't had the\n\tadvantages you've had", "into GUFFAWS. They laugh and joyously kid each other.\n\nIn the audience, Michael is STUNNED.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\tOh my God --!\n\nAll the commotion stops. The audience doesn't know whether\nto laugh or boo. The actors are flabbergasted -- then\nfurious.\n\n\t\tMELANIE (cont'd)\n\tHe's a fuckin' psycho!\n\n\t\tMARY\n\tWhy didn't someone tell us???\n\nSuddenly May", "ams the book shut. People CHEER. Andy starts to storm\noff -- then turns.\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH) (cont'd)\n\tNo, no, I'm only fooling.\n\nThe audience GROANS.\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH) (cont'd)\n\tI'll tell you what. Would you\n\trather have me continue reading or\n\twould you like to hear the\n\tphonograph record?\n\nThe audience ROARS for the record. Andy smiles,", "\t(audience BOOS)\n\tOKAY!!!\n\nLynne snickers. But Stanley and Janice are ashen-faced.\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tWhy is he saying these things?!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tThey're gonna lynch him!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(he shakes his head)\n\tNah. He's just engaging a passive\n\taudience.\n\nAndy reaches in his pocket and removes... a bar of SOAP.\n\n\t\tANDY", "silence.\nThen, (only a moment before the length of this scene would\nbecome unbearable), he begins to move. Tony pivots around,\nlooks at the audience...\n\nAnd the entire room looks like Tussaud's Wax Museum. Tony\nstarts LAUGHING hysterically. The audience's reaction is\nmixed:\n\nSome people LAUGH. Some BOO. Some ask perplexed questions.\nSome SCREAM OBSCENITIES. Some even APPLAUD.\n\nTony is", "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening", "Kaufman\nspecial.\n\nFinally, Andy speaks -- in a peculiar FOREIGN ACCENT.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tHallo. I am Andy. Welcoom to my\n\tmovie.\n\t\t(beat; he gets upset)\n\tI hoped the story of my life would\n\tbe nice...but it turned out\n\tterrible! It is all LIES! Tings\n\tare mixed up... real people I knew\n\tplay different people. WHAT A MESS!\n\t", " We hear little Andy\ndoing VOICES.\n\n\t\tANDY (O.S.)\n\t\t(as WORRIED GIRL)\n\tBut professor, why are the monsters\n\tgrowing so big?\n\t\t(now as BRITISH\n\t\tPROFESSOR)\n\tIt's something in the jungle water.\n\tI need to crack the secret code.\n\nStanley rolls his eyes. He opens the door...\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, ANDY'S ROOM - 19", "-- then one man stands.\n\nIt's Michael.\n\nStraight-faced, he hurries out of his seat, sprints down the\naisle, and goes on stage. Michael checks her pulse and\nloosens her blouse. He presses Eleanor's chest, trying to\nrestart her heart. But then -- he shakes his head sadly.\nShe's dead.\n\nThe crowd MOANS sadly. Michael covers Eleanor with a\njacket.\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL, BACKST", ". A REPORTER has a camera.\n\n\t\tED\n\tWho're YOU?!\n\n\t\tREPORTER\n\tI'm from the LA Times. We're doing\n\ta little puff piece on Mr. Clifton.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman arranged it.\n\nUP IN THE BLEACHERS - George enters. He looks down at the\ngrowing debacle, and winces. Uh-oh.\n\nONSTAGE - Enraged, Ed blows up.\n\n\t", "this friendly, friendly\n\tworld...\"\n\nThe curtain behind the coffin OPENS and the casket with\nAndy's body slowly slides into the DARKNESS.\n\nThe curtain closes. The FILM ENDS.\n\nAnd all goes silent.\n\nSome people cry. Some begin to leave. Most of them are\njust staying, numbed.\n\nGeorge and Zmuda whisper.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tIt's a perfect Kaufman audience.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah. They", "ZMUDA\n\t\t(dour)\n\tSure. When he reaches \"The End.\"\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nPeople are streaming out. Maybe fifty are left. Andy\nrealizes this -- but is committed. He must continue.\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH)\n\t\"Tom was evidently perturbed at\n\tDaisy's running around alone, for on\n\tthe following Saturday night he came\n\twith her to Gatsby's party. Perhaps" ], [ "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", "to the mat!!\n\n\t\tMERV\n\t\t(nonplussed)\n\tBy a woman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYes! BY A WOMAN!\n\t\t(emphatic)\n\tI'm doing this because I feel that a\n\twoman cannot beat a man in\n\twrestling. Even if they train with\n\tweights... it requires a certain\n\tmental ability --\n\t\t(a clumsy pause)\n\tAnd, uh -- I just don't feel they\n\thave that...\n\nThe", "trained for this.\n\nZmuda gets on his knees, watching, trying to look official.\nLynne struggles and slithers away.\n\nShe grabs Andy's arm and forces him down. People CHEER.\nHis torso hits the mat. LOUDER CHEERS. But suddenly he\nrolls over and pulls her hair! Her head snaps back. The\ncrowd is INCENSED. Zmuda hurries over and pantomimes a\nstern warning.\n\nAndy nods, and they separate. ", "is losing his patience.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tHey! Did you come down here to\n\twrestle, or to act like an ass?\n\nAndy paces around, unsure of his next move.\n\n\t\tLAWLER (cont'd)\n\tLook... if you get in here, I'll\n\tgive you a free headlock.\n\nLawler leans down and offers his neck.\n\nAndy peers skeptically. People JEER. Andy looks at waiting\nLawler... then tentatively clim", "ler...\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tNo offense, pal, but I just don't\n\tthink you're built for it. These he-\n\tmen'll kick your ass!! They're\n\thuge!\n\nAndy's face drops. He realizes Zmuda's right.\n\nBeat -- then Andy notices an issue of Sumo Magazine, with a\npicture of a wrestler and his cute little fianc&#1081;e on the\ncover. He slowly lifts it up, intrig", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "?! Well I got news for you,\n\tAndy Kaufman! Wrestling is a\n\tserious sport to me! I don't like\n\tanyone makin' fun of it, and I hate\n\tanyone insultin' the South! So we\n\tcan settle this two ways: We can go\n\tto court... or you can get in the\n\tring with a man, and wrestle for\n\tREAL!\n\nAndy watches, fuming. He is INFURIATED.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHe", "ve\n\tbrought a real wrestler! She's\n\ttrained and she's READY!! Kaufman,\n\tdo you think you can handle... FOXY\n\tJACKSON???!!!\n\nAt that, a striking, muscular black woman stands -- FOXY.\n\nThe coliseum SCREAMS with excitement. People POUND their\nseats. The roar is deafening. Lawler gleams cockily.\nLynne looks worriedly at Andy -- he's concerned.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t C", "ANICE\n\tJESUS CHRIST!!!!!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWhy isn't he MOVING??\n\nAndy's parents' reaction is a fiesta for photographers.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tLawler has committed a PILEDRIVER,\n\twhich is an AUTOMATIC\n\tDISQUALIFICATION! Match goes to\n\tKaufman by disqualification, after\n\ttwo minutes, twelve seconds!\nAndy is splayed unconscious.\n\nRaging", "opposite end of the ring, gauging his\nrival... then slowly climbs in --\n\nUntil the second Lawler moves. Then Andy leaps back out!\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring again!\n\tHe doesn't seem interested in\n\tactually making contact with his\n\topponent.\n\nAndy struts around the floor, pointing to his brain. He\nsmirks at various spectators... until he finds himself face-\nto-face with -- his parents.\n\n", "runs for the ropes and jumps out of the ring.\n\nBOOOOO!!! Andy grins at the crowd and points at his brain:\nI'm smarter.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring!\n\tLawler's waiting for him to return.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(to Zmuda)\n\tIs this a strategy?\n\nLawler disparagingly frowns. The REF checks his watch.\nAndy crosses to the", "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "shake hands, go to\n\tyour corners, and come out\n\twrestling.\n\nLynne extends her hand. Andy fakes a shake -- then snidely\nrefuses and struts away. The crowd HISSES.\n\nDING! It's the bell. The match begins. Lynne barrels at\nhim, craving a victory, but terribly unprepared for this\nexperience. Andy immediately grabs her by the legs and\nflips her over.\n\nWHUMP! She's down. Andy has", "y speaks timidly, seeming a bit dazed and regretful.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI apologize for all the wrestling\n\tI've ever done. I'm sorry for all\n\tthe abuse I've ever given...\n\t\t(soft)\n\tI was just playing bad guy wrestler.\n\tThat's not me... it's just a role.\n\tBut Jerry took it personally.\n\nLawler and Letterman are unimpressed.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n", "Where's that sweet\n\tguy who used to do\n\t\t(he SINGS Mighty\n\t\tMouse)\n\t\"Here I come to save the day!\"?\n\t\t(long beat)\n\tPlease, enough with the wrestling!\n\tYou've lost touch with reality!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(ingenuous)\n\tWhat, you don't think I can beat\n\thim?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHe is the Southern Heavyweight\n\tChampion. He'll kill you.\n\t\t(very", "SEUM, DRESSING ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is meditating, eyes shut, at rest in his private oasis.\nSuddenly -- DESPERATE BANGING on the door.\n\n\t\tUPSET VOICE (O.S.)\n\tC'MON, KAUFMAN! Christ, you're ON!\n\nAndy awakens. He smiles.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - NIGHT\n\nThe THEME FROM \"MIGHTY MOUSE\" begins playing. Then, AND", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "world thought that\n\twrestling was real.\nAndy gulps emotionally.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWe'll stay in touch. Next time I'm\n\tin Memphis, I'll stop by the house,\n\tand Noreen can make me her double\n\tchocolate cake.\n\n\t\tJERRY LAWLER\n\tAlright, buddy...\n\t\t(choked up)\n\tStay good.\n\nAndy and Jerry hug.\n\nA touching beat... until Andy gets a Quixotic gleam.\n" ], [ "powerful ABC exec.\nHe shouts into a phone.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tI don't care! Travolta signed a\n\tcontract, he's a Sweathog for\n\tlife!... Oh yeah? Just try to sue\n\tus.\n\nHe HANGS up. His ASSISTANT peeks her head in.\n\n\t\tASSISTANT\n\tSir, they're having a problem down\n\ton the Kaufman Special. They say\n\the's not following the... technical\n\trequirements.", "AME TIME\n\nLorne Michaels is watching this at home. He gapes in\ndisbelief.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tJesus Christ.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - ONE WEEK LATER\n\nA SMUG COMIC stands on stage, speaking into camera. The\nshow's going out live.\n\n\t\tSMUG COMIC\n\tHi. Um, we were supposed to have\n\tAndy Kaufman", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", "on our show this week -\n\t- but now our producers aren't sure\n\tif it's such a good idea.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSome of us at Saturday Night Live\n\tthink Kaufman's a comic genius. But\n\tothers disagree... they say he's\n\tjust not funny anymore.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSo we're putting the decision up to\n\tyou. Please call up and vote. To\n\tkeep Andy, call 1-900-244-7618. To", "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening", "The execs stare at George like he's lost his\nmind.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tBut Andy says he's fabulous.\n\t\t(awkward)\n\tHe also says, these are the terms.\n\nThe execs' leader, MAYNARD SMITH, shudders hopelessly.\n\n\t\t NETWORK GUY #2\n\tCouldn't Kaufman ask for more money,\n\tlike everyone else?\n\nGeorge slowly, sadly shakes his head: No.\n\nMay", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\n\nMaynard is baffled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\t\"Technical\"???\n\nINT. \"KAUFMAN SPECIAL\" SET, TECH BOOTH - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is in a booth, arguing with a HEAVYSET TECHNICIAN.\nZmuda watches and eats a banana.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's my show! Now make it roll!\n\n\t\tTECHNICIAN\n\tNO!\n\nMaynard strolls up,", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "\nGeorge sits across a conference table from three NETWORK\nSUITS. He stoically reads the men his demands.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tMr. Kaufman will only appear in half\n\tthe episodes.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman requires an undisturbed\n\t90 minutes of meditation prior to\n\tfilming.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman won't rehearse.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman gets his own network\n\tSpecial.\n\nThe execs are", ". A REPORTER has a camera.\n\n\t\tED\n\tWho're YOU?!\n\n\t\tREPORTER\n\tI'm from the LA Times. We're doing\n\ta little puff piece on Mr. Clifton.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman arranged it.\n\nUP IN THE BLEACHERS - George enters. He looks down at the\ngrowing debacle, and winces. Uh-oh.\n\nONSTAGE - Enraged, Ed blows up.\n\n\t", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "great opportunity for\n\tyou. The show's live, they'll give\n\tyou carte blanche, and you can get\n\tback to the business of making\n\tpeople laugh.\n\nAndy gets a strange gleam. He only heard one thing.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYou said -- live?\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nThe FRIDAYS CAST prepares. In a corner, ANDY is arguing\nwith director JACK BURNS.\n\n\t\tANDY\n", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", "out... a feisty\nwoman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI wanna kill that jerk.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER\n\nAndy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches\nhim preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS REFEREE)\n\tWill you please", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n" ], [ ".\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tBut my neck hurts... and I have a\n\tslight cough...\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tIt's probably just a strained\n\tmuscle.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(intent)\n\tDoctor, I think I need a neck brace.\n\nThe Doctor gives up.\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tIf it makes you happy...\n\nMONTAGE OF NEWSPAPER PHOTOS:\n\nAndy in the ring, Andy outside the ring, on the floor, with\nhis", "ULANCE. He is \"unconscious.\"\n\nCameras CLICK and FLASH. The ambulance speeds away, siren\nWAILING.\n\nINT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY\n\nAndy sits watching an OLD DOCTOR examining a number of x-\nrays clipped to light panels.\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tI don't see any injury to your neck,\n\tMr. Kaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tAre you sure?\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tPositive", "y speaks timidly, seeming a bit dazed and regretful.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI apologize for all the wrestling\n\tI've ever done. I'm sorry for all\n\tthe abuse I've ever given...\n\t\t(soft)\n\tI was just playing bad guy wrestler.\n\tThat's not me... it's just a role.\n\tBut Jerry took it personally.\n\nLawler and Letterman are unimpressed.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n", "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "ANICE\n\tJESUS CHRIST!!!!!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWhy isn't he MOVING??\n\nAndy's parents' reaction is a fiesta for photographers.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tLawler has committed a PILEDRIVER,\n\twhich is an AUTOMATIC\n\tDISQUALIFICATION! Match goes to\n\tKaufman by disqualification, after\n\ttwo minutes, twelve seconds!\nAndy is splayed unconscious.\n\nRaging", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "\t(frantic)\n\tSomebody get a DOCTOR!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(yelling)\n\tWE NEED A STRETCHER!!\n\nStanley, totally numbed, holds Janice. They're on the verge\nof collapsing. Tons of commotion. Cameras FLASH\nBLINDINGLY. A stretcher is lifted into the ring. Andy is\nloaded on. MUSIC fights the deafening NOISE.\n\nBEDLAM. Andy is carried through", "SEUM, DRESSING ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is meditating, eyes shut, at rest in his private oasis.\nSuddenly -- DESPERATE BANGING on the door.\n\n\t\tUPSET VOICE (O.S.)\n\tC'MON, KAUFMAN! Christ, you're ON!\n\nAndy awakens. He smiles.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - NIGHT\n\nThe THEME FROM \"MIGHTY MOUSE\" begins playing. Then, AND", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "trained for this.\n\nZmuda gets on his knees, watching, trying to look official.\nLynne struggles and slithers away.\n\nShe grabs Andy's arm and forces him down. People CHEER.\nHis torso hits the mat. LOUDER CHEERS. But suddenly he\nrolls over and pulls her hair! Her head snaps back. The\ncrowd is INCENSED. Zmuda hurries over and pantomimes a\nstern warning.\n\nAndy nods, and they separate. ", "They do a little dance around\nthe ring, Lynne looking for a hole. Suddenly, Andy spins\nher into a Half-Nelson. Her arms are pinned. They\nstruggle, then he throws her down on her stomach. One!\nTwo! Three!\n\nAnd DING! It's OVER. Andy jumps up and sneers at the\ncrowd.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI'm the winner! I've got the\n\tBRAINS!\n\t\t(he points at his\n\t", "is losing his patience.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tHey! Did you come down here to\n\twrestle, or to act like an ass?\n\nAndy paces around, unsure of his next move.\n\n\t\tLAWLER (cont'd)\n\tLook... if you get in here, I'll\n\tgive you a free headlock.\n\nLawler leans down and offers his neck.\n\nAndy peers skeptically. People JEER. Andy looks at waiting\nLawler... then tentatively clim", "frightened parents, in a neck brace, on the stretcher,\netc.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nGeorge, Zmuda and Andy are looking through hundreds of\nclippings from the newspapers.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(reading aloud)\n\t\"... has been rushed to a nearby\n\thospital, where doctors are checking\n\thim for possible paralysis. His\n\tparents are at his bedside. Fans\n\twill best remember Kaufman as\n\tlovable Latka on", "ve\n\tbrought a real wrestler! She's\n\ttrained and she's READY!! Kaufman,\n\tdo you think you can handle... FOXY\n\tJACKSON???!!!\n\nAt that, a striking, muscular black woman stands -- FOXY.\n\nThe coliseum SCREAMS with excitement. People POUND their\nseats. The roar is deafening. Lawler gleams cockily.\nLynne looks worriedly at Andy -- he's concerned.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t C", " Lorne Michaels nods.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOkay. It'd be good to have the old\n\tAndy back.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. DAVID LETTERMAN SHOW - NIGHT\n\nAndy and Jerry Lawler are on DAVID LETTERMAN'S show. Andy\nis pallid, hair shaggy, in a neckbrace and tweed jacket.\nHusky Lawler wears loud red pants and gold chains.\n\nAnd", "Where's that sweet\n\tguy who used to do\n\t\t(he SINGS Mighty\n\t\tMouse)\n\t\"Here I come to save the day!\"?\n\t\t(long beat)\n\tPlease, enough with the wrestling!\n\tYou've lost touch with reality!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(ingenuous)\n\tWhat, you don't think I can beat\n\thim?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHe is the Southern Heavyweight\n\tChampion. He'll kill you.\n\t\t(very", "opposite end of the ring, gauging his\nrival... then slowly climbs in --\n\nUntil the second Lawler moves. Then Andy leaps back out!\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring again!\n\tHe doesn't seem interested in\n\tactually making contact with his\n\topponent.\n\nAndy struts around the floor, pointing to his brain. He\nsmirks at various spectators... until he finds himself face-\nto-face with -- his parents.\n\n", "Lawler promenades around the ring, arms over his\nhead. The crowd SHOUTS CRAZILY, rooting him on.\n\nLynne runs to the ropes, SCREAMING for help.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tANDY!!!\n\t\t(frantic)\n\tSomebody get a DOCTOR!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(yelling)\n\tWE NEED A STRETCHER!!\n\nStanley, totally numbed, holds Janice. They're on the verge\nof" ], [ "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", "this friendly, friendly\n\tworld...\"\n\nThe curtain behind the coffin OPENS and the casket with\nAndy's body slowly slides into the DARKNESS.\n\nThe curtain closes. The FILM ENDS.\n\nAnd all goes silent.\n\nSome people cry. Some begin to leave. Most of them are\njust staying, numbed.\n\nGeorge and Zmuda whisper.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tIt's a perfect Kaufman audience.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah. They", "marquee says \"TEXAS A&M PRESENTS - ANDY KAUFMAN\"\n\nInside, a ROAR of APPLAUSE surges.\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is walking onstage. The excited CLAPPING swells. He's\na gigantic presence to these people.\n\nAndy smiles and bows.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThank you. It's great to be here.\n\tWe're going to have a very nice\n", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "but I have them.\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tNo! That is NOT an audience! That\n\tis PLASTER! An audience is people\n\tmade of flesh! They -- live and\n\tbreathe! Got it?!\n\nAndy thinks, considering his options. Then, he nods.\n\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - 1957 - LATER THAT DAY\n\nBaby Carol sits in her crib.", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "-- then one man stands.\n\nIt's Michael.\n\nStraight-faced, he hurries out of his seat, sprints down the\naisle, and goes on stage. Michael checks her pulse and\nloosens her blouse. He presses Eleanor's chest, trying to\nrestart her heart. But then -- he shakes his head sadly.\nShe's dead.\n\nThe crowd MOANS sadly. Michael covers Eleanor with a\njacket.\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL, BACKST", "beat)\n\tCarnegie Hall...!\n\nGeorge gently smiles.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NATIONAL ENQUIRER OFFICES - DAY\n\nA STAFF meeting at the National Enquirer.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tI'm working on a great cover story:\n\tI've got a guy in the lab at Cedars.\n\tHe says Andy Kaufman is dying of\n\tlung cancer.\n\nBeat. The room GROANS.\n\n\t", "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", "nard runs out of the booth, beaming. People\nwatch curiously.\n\nAndy seems discombobulated. Maynard shouts out to EVERYBODY\nassembled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tExcuse me!... I have an announcement\n\tto make! You've all just\n\tparticipated in a \"happening.\" To\n\tmake it real, some of you knew, and\n\tsome of you didn't.\n\nThe audience LAUGHS and APPLAUDS wildly. The actors", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", "silence.\nThen, (only a moment before the length of this scene would\nbecome unbearable), he begins to move. Tony pivots around,\nlooks at the audience...\n\nAnd the entire room looks like Tussaud's Wax Museum. Tony\nstarts LAUGHING hysterically. The audience's reaction is\nmixed:\n\nSome people LAUGH. Some BOO. Some ask perplexed questions.\nSome SCREAM OBSCENITIES. Some even APPLAUD.\n\nTony is", ". You should be outside,\n\tplaying sports.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tBut I've got a sports show.\n\tChampionship wrestling, at five.\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\t\t(he blows his top)\n\tYou know that's not what I meant!\n\tLook, I'm gonna put my foot down!\n\tNo more playing alone. You wanna\n\tperform, you GOTTA have an audience!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he points at the\n\t\twall)\n\tB-", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", "the world?\n\nHmm. Andy contemplates this.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGeorge... I'm at a stage where the\n\taudience expects me to constantly\n\tshock them. But short of faking my\n\tdeath, or setting the theater on\n\tfire, I don't know what else to do.\n\t\t(thoughtful)\n\t'Cause I've always got to be one\n\tstep ahead of them.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tBut I feel you're extending this\n\tphilosoph", ". A REPORTER has a camera.\n\n\t\tED\n\tWho're YOU?!\n\n\t\tREPORTER\n\tI'm from the LA Times. We're doing\n\ta little puff piece on Mr. Clifton.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman arranged it.\n\nUP IN THE BLEACHERS - George enters. He looks down at the\ngrowing debacle, and winces. Uh-oh.\n\nONSTAGE - Enraged, Ed blows up.\n\n\t", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly" ], [ "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "frightened parents, in a neck brace, on the stretcher,\netc.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nGeorge, Zmuda and Andy are looking through hundreds of\nclippings from the newspapers.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(reading aloud)\n\t\"... has been rushed to a nearby\n\thospital, where doctors are checking\n\thim for possible paralysis. His\n\tparents are at his bedside. Fans\n\twill best remember Kaufman as\n\tlovable Latka on", "beat)\n\tCarnegie Hall...!\n\nGeorge gently smiles.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NATIONAL ENQUIRER OFFICES - DAY\n\nA STAFF meeting at the National Enquirer.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tI'm working on a great cover story:\n\tI've got a guy in the lab at Cedars.\n\tHe says Andy Kaufman is dying of\n\tlung cancer.\n\nBeat. The room GROANS.\n\n\t", "this friendly, friendly\n\tworld...\"\n\nThe curtain behind the coffin OPENS and the casket with\nAndy's body slowly slides into the DARKNESS.\n\nThe curtain closes. The FILM ENDS.\n\nAnd all goes silent.\n\nSome people cry. Some begin to leave. Most of them are\njust staying, numbed.\n\nGeorge and Zmuda whisper.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tIt's a perfect Kaufman audience.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah. They", "reads one paragraph.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\"Was this in actuality Andy Kaufman?\n\tAnd if it was Andy Kaufman, is Andy\n\tKaufman crazy?\"\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(he chortles)\n\tBoy, they totally fell for it! I'm\n\tonly acting crazy!\n\nHmm. A few awkward glances.\n\nThen -- Andy grins at his meal.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tBoy, this is tasty.\n\t\t", "Kaufman\nspecial.\n\nFinally, Andy speaks -- in a peculiar FOREIGN ACCENT.\n\n\t\tANDY (AS FOREIGN MAN)\n\tHallo. I am Andy. Welcoom to my\n\tmovie.\n\t\t(beat; he gets upset)\n\tI hoped the story of my life would\n\tbe nice...but it turned out\n\tterrible! It is all LIES! Tings\n\tare mixed up... real people I knew\n\tplay different people. WHAT A MESS!\n\t", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "\n\tExcuse me -- but could Andy tell us\n\twhy we're here???\n\nAll heads turn. A long pause.\n\nThen -- Andy stiffly speaks.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI have cancer.\n\nBeat. Zmuda nods.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tHey, that's good! We can make that\n\tplay.\n\t\t(spitballing)\n\tAnd we'll really drag it out. You\n\tget better, you get worse... you\n\tdie...\n", "Man on the Moon\n\n\n Man on the Moon (1999)\n by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski.\n\n\nFADE IN:\n\nINT. VOID - DAY\n\nStanding in a nonexistent set is ANDY KAUFMAN, looking a bit\nnervous. Wide-eyed, tentative, he stares at us with a\nneedy, unsettling cuteness. His hair is slicked-down, and\nhe wears the \"FRIENDLY WORLD\" costume from the Andy", "I cried when he broke his neck.\n\tHe's not gettin' me again --\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\t\t(impassioned)\n\tJesus! He's got lung cancer!\n\nA standoff moment. Carol loses it.\n\n\t\tCAROL\n\tSee, that's exactly it! He picked\n\tlung cancer, because he doesn't\n\tsmoke. That makes it weird! If\n\the'd picked leukemia, it'd be\n\ttotally believ", "ULANCE. He is \"unconscious.\"\n\nCameras CLICK and FLASH. The ambulance speeds away, siren\nWAILING.\n\nINT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY\n\nAndy sits watching an OLD DOCTOR examining a number of x-\nrays clipped to light panels.\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tI don't see any injury to your neck,\n\tMr. Kaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tAre you sure?\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tPositive", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", ". I have lung cancer.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThat's ridiculous. You don't even\n\tsmoke.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(emphatic)\n\tI -- I got some freaky rare kind.\n\tIt's called large-celled carcinoma.\n\nLynne's eyes tear up. She hugs onto Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tJesus, Andy! Can they cure it?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThey don't know... they've gotta", "n't that true???\n\nAndy shudders.\n\nThe audience averts their eyes.\n\nA painful silence.\n\n\"Andy Kaufman\" has been destroyed.\n\nEXT. LA IMPROV - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nAndy and George walk sadly down the street. There is a\nhorrible gloom over them.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThe world thinks Andy Kaufman sucks.\n\tSo I was just giving 'em what they\n\twant...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sadly", "able, and we'd all be\n\tgoing, \"Poor Andy, he's really\n\tsick.\" So he chose lung cancer,\n\tbecause he WANTS us to be scratching\n\tour heads, saying, \"Is this real?\"\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\t\t(trying to convince\n\t\therself)\n\tOf course it's real. We're in a\n\thospital...\n\n\t\tMICHAEL\n\tMom, it's Cedars-Sinai! It's a", " I can't be\n\tsurrounded by negative energy.\n\nGeorge shakes his head.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy, you're surrounded by what you\n\tcreate. You are the KING of\n\tnegative energy.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(thrown)\n\tY-yeah? Well, then it has to stop!\n\tBecause if these bad vibes get\n\tout... then everyone will be talkin'\n\tabout how sick I am, and it becomes\n\ta self-fulfilling", "ful radiation.\n\nINT. CEDARS SINAI, DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY\n\nThe whole Kaufman family is gathered. Stanley, Janice,\nMichael and Carol listen to a BLAND DOCTOR in a white coat.\n\n\t\tDOCTOR\n\tThe cancer started in Andy's left\n\tarm and spread to his lungs. We've\n\tinitiated an aggressive radiation\n\tprogram... see if we can eradicate\n\tthe affected cells.\n\t\t(his BEEPER goes\n\t\toff)\n\tEx", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs" ], [ "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "\n\nMaynard is baffled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\t\"Technical\"???\n\nINT. \"KAUFMAN SPECIAL\" SET, TECH BOOTH - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is in a booth, arguing with a HEAVYSET TECHNICIAN.\nZmuda watches and eats a banana.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's my show! Now make it roll!\n\n\t\tTECHNICIAN\n\tNO!\n\nMaynard strolls up,", "get nervous.\n\t\t STANLEY\n\tWhat's the difference? This thing's\n\ton in the middle of the night -- no\n\tone's even gonna see it.\n\nThe commercial ends, and the \"APPLAUSE\" sign blinks. The\ncrowd APPLAUDS. An \"ON THE AIR\" sign lights up.\n\n\t\tHOST\n\tWelcome back to Saturday Night Live!\n\tAnd now, as a special treat on our\n\tfirst show... musical guest ANDY\n\tKAUFMAN!!!", ". A REPORTER has a camera.\n\n\t\tED\n\tWho're YOU?!\n\n\t\tREPORTER\n\tI'm from the LA Times. We're doing\n\ta little puff piece on Mr. Clifton.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman arranged it.\n\nUP IN THE BLEACHERS - George enters. He looks down at the\ngrowing debacle, and winces. Uh-oh.\n\nONSTAGE - Enraged, Ed blows up.\n\n\t", "up to\n\t\tthe PRODUCER)\n\tWhere's Kaufman? Why isn't he\n\there??\n\nOne producer stands. This is tightly-wound ED WEINBERGER.\n\n\t\tED\n\tYou'll see him on Friday when we\n\tshoot. Now run the lines with\n\tRodney.\n\nAn angry beat. The actors resume...\n\nINT. TAXI SET - DAYS LATER\n\nThe AUDIENCE is filtering in. They fill the studio\nbleachers.", "George is oblivious. He's staring up at a BILLBOARD.\nThe BILLBOARD: It says \"HARRAH'S TAHOE PRESENTS, ANDY\nKAUFMAN & TONY CLIFTON! TOGETHER ON STAGE! ONE NIGHT\nONLY!\"\n\nGeorge is flabbergasted.\n\nEXT. SUNSET BLVD, PHONEBOOTH - DAY\n\nGeorge is shouting into a payphone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tGene, you misunder", "\nGeorge sits across a conference table from three NETWORK\nSUITS. He stoically reads the men his demands.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tMr. Kaufman will only appear in half\n\tthe episodes.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman requires an undisturbed\n\t90 minutes of meditation prior to\n\tfilming.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman won't rehearse.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tMr. Kaufman gets his own network\n\tSpecial.\n\nThe execs are", "Gee, restaurants are amazing,\n\taren't they? All these strangers\n\tsitting around... stuffing dead\n\tanimals in their faces! It's just\n\tincredible!\"\n\nShe GIGGLES more. The other three play baffled.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\t\"If you say so.\"\n\n\t\tACTOR\n\t\"Excuse me, I'll be right back.\"\n\nAndy stands and walks out.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN", "show was this??!\n\t\t(angrily reading off\n\t\ta LIST)\n\tThere were three-hundred walkouts!\n\tThe promoter wants a refund!\n\nAndy mumbles in a pipsqueak whimper.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI'm sorry, George...\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tYou're DAMN RIGHT you're sorry!\n\t\t(turning on Zmuda)\n\tAnd you -- you're the road manager!\n\tYou should be watchin' out for him", "on our show this week -\n\t- but now our producers aren't sure\n\tif it's such a good idea.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSome of us at Saturday Night Live\n\tthink Kaufman's a comic genius. But\n\tothers disagree... they say he's\n\tjust not funny anymore.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSo we're putting the decision up to\n\tyou. Please call up and vote. To\n\tkeep Andy, call 1-900-244-7618. To", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "AME TIME\n\nLorne Michaels is watching this at home. He gapes in\ndisbelief.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tJesus Christ.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - ONE WEEK LATER\n\nA SMUG COMIC stands on stage, speaking into camera. The\nshow's going out live.\n\n\t\tSMUG COMIC\n\tHi. Um, we were supposed to have\n\tAndy Kaufman", "\n\this presence gave the evening its\n\tpeculiar quality of\n\toppressiveness...\"\n\nA weak VOICE feebly shouts:\n\n\t\tWEAK VOICE\n\tDo Latka.\n\nAndy looks up, shocked. Insulted, he \"blows his temper.\"\n\n\t\tANDY (BRITISH)\n\tLook! I don't have to tolerate this\n\timpoliteness! Forget it -- I'm\n\tgonna stop the show. GOODBYE!\n\nHe sl", "! All right!\"\n\nAndy awkwardly sits. He has a strange hesitancy.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\"Gee, that bathroom is so colorf--\"\n\nSuddenly he STOPS. The actors glance up.\n\nAndy purses his lips, fretting. An endless pause.\n\nUh-oh. Andy won't finish the line. The cast looks around\nworriedly. Live TV is beaming out... Finally, Melanie\ncovers.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\tYou", "original.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI was very original!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tYeah, exactly -- \"was\"! But now,\n\tyou're creatively bankrupt.\n\t\t(he gleams cruelly)\n\tIn fact, Ladies and Gentlemen,\n\tKaufman's so desperate, he PAID me\n\tto do this tonight!! I'm a plant.\n\tIt's just a fresh coat of paint on\n\tan old broken-down routine.\n\t\t(back to Andy)\n\tIs", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "silence.\nThen, (only a moment before the length of this scene would\nbecome unbearable), he begins to move. Tony pivots around,\nlooks at the audience...\n\nAnd the entire room looks like Tussaud's Wax Museum. Tony\nstarts LAUGHING hysterically. The audience's reaction is\nmixed:\n\nSome people LAUGH. Some BOO. Some ask perplexed questions.\nSome SCREAM OBSCENITIES. Some even APPLAUD.\n\nTony is" ], [ "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "like to\n\tbook Andy Kaufman for our showroom.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge on the phone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tEhh -- Andy doesn't really like\n\tplaying casinos. The audiences\n\tdon't work well for him.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\tOh.\n\nDisappointed beat. The booker thinks.\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.) (cont'", "SEUM, DRESSING ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is meditating, eyes shut, at rest in his private oasis.\nSuddenly -- DESPERATE BANGING on the door.\n\n\t\tUPSET VOICE (O.S.)\n\tC'MON, KAUFMAN! Christ, you're ON!\n\nAndy awakens. He smiles.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - NIGHT\n\nThe THEME FROM \"MIGHTY MOUSE\" begins playing. Then, AND", "Gee, restaurants are amazing,\n\taren't they? All these strangers\n\tsitting around... stuffing dead\n\tanimals in their faces! It's just\n\tincredible!\"\n\nShe GIGGLES more. The other three play baffled.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\t\"If you say so.\"\n\n\t\tACTOR\n\t\"Excuse me, I'll be right back.\"\n\nAndy stands and walks out.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "Tony called me himself.\n\tHe yelled at me, insisting that his\n\tdressing room be bigger than Andy's.\n\tThey're both going on tonight,\n\tbelieve me!\n\nGeorge is stupefied. He looks at his watch.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. LAKE TAHOE - DUSK\n\nMagnificent HARRAH'S dominates the skyline. The marquee\nblares \"TONY CLIFTON AND ANDY KAUFMAN", "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "glances at the passing marquee -- then does a doubletake.\n\nIt says \"ANDY KAUFMAN - 9 P.M.\"\n\nINT. LA IMPROV, LOBBY - THAT NIGHT\n\nPuzzled George hurries inside. COMICS greet him: \"Hey\nGeorge!\" \"George, you got a second?!\" George distractedly\nwaves and moves through. At the showroom door, he finds\nBudd.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tHey, what's going on here?\n\n", "marquee says \"TEXAS A&M PRESENTS - ANDY KAUFMAN\"\n\nInside, a ROAR of APPLAUSE surges.\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is walking onstage. The excited CLAPPING swells. He's\na gigantic presence to these people.\n\nAndy smiles and bows.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThank you. It's great to be here.\n\tWe're going to have a very nice\n", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\"KAUFMAN\". Next to it is a\ndoor marked \"CLIFTON\".\n\nGeorge stares. He thinks, then opens the \"KAUFMAN\" door.\n\nAndy is inside alone, gathering his things. He's pleasantly\nsurprised to see George.\n\nGeorge doesn't enter. He goes to the \"CLIFTON\" door. Andy\nfollows. George opens the mystery door...\n\nINT. HARRAH'S, CLIFTON'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT\n", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", " We hear little Andy\ndoing VOICES.\n\n\t\tANDY (O.S.)\n\t\t(as WORRIED GIRL)\n\tBut professor, why are the monsters\n\tgrowing so big?\n\t\t(now as BRITISH\n\t\tPROFESSOR)\n\tIt's something in the jungle water.\n\tI need to crack the secret code.\n\nStanley rolls his eyes. He opens the door...\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, ANDY'S ROOM - 19", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "beat)\n\tCarnegie Hall...!\n\nGeorge gently smiles.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NATIONAL ENQUIRER OFFICES - DAY\n\nA STAFF meeting at the National Enquirer.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tI'm working on a great cover story:\n\tI've got a guy in the lab at Cedars.\n\tHe says Andy Kaufman is dying of\n\tlung cancer.\n\nBeat. The room GROANS.\n\n\t", "George is oblivious. He's staring up at a BILLBOARD.\nThe BILLBOARD: It says \"HARRAH'S TAHOE PRESENTS, ANDY\nKAUFMAN & TONY CLIFTON! TOGETHER ON STAGE! ONE NIGHT\nONLY!\"\n\nGeorge is flabbergasted.\n\nEXT. SUNSET BLVD, PHONEBOOTH - DAY\n\nGeorge is shouting into a payphone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tGene, you misunder", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "d)\n\tWhat about Tony Clifton?\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(startled)\n\tReally?! You want Tony Clifton to\n\theadline Harrah's Tahoe??\n\n\t\tBOOKER (O.S.)\n\t\t(being tricky)\n\tEh, sure. We're trying to expand\n\tour audience base -- and I know the\n\tcollege kids really love Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\nGeorge winces.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tLook -- I gotta" ], [ "a careful\n\t\tbeat)\n\tI... I wanted to talk to you about\n\tbooking Andy on \"Saturday Night\n\tLive.\"\n\nLorne Michaels squirms uncomfortably. He chooses his words.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tGeorge -- I don't know if Andy works\n\tfor our show anymore. That\n\twrestling stuff... is such a\n\tturnoff.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tWe agree completely.\n\t\t(tactfully begging)\n\tAndy", "s desk. Dave jerks nervously.\n\nCrazed, Andy looks down at Dave's coffee cup. Uh-oh.\nSuddenly, Andy grabs the coffee and DUMPS it on Lawler!\n\nLawler jumps, burned. A SECURITY GUARD runs in.\n\nAndy screams and hurtles away. He slams open the stage door\nand barrels out of sight.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. LORNE MICHAELS' HOUSE - S", "\nDead silence. Everyone is astonished.\n\nThey're all slack-jawed. Even PAUL SHAFFER. Trying to\ncover, Paul hurriedly kicks in with a ROCKABILLY TUNE.\n\nAndy jumps up, crazed.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS SHIT!\n\nLawler freezes in his seat. Letterman hides behind his\ndesk.\n\nAndy storms over, out-of-control", "\n\nThe SNL orchestra starts the intro into a song. Andy enters\nthe stage with a boom box, and positions himself in front of\nthe microphone. When the vocals are supposed to start, Andy\ndoesn't open his mouth. Instead he looks around --\nfrightened. The band stops... and starts again. Andy\nremains mute. The Band stops again.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nThe SNL producer, LORNE MICHAELS, looks worried.\n\n\t\tLOR", "AME TIME\n\nLorne Michaels is watching this at home. He gapes in\ndisbelief.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tJesus Christ.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - ONE WEEK LATER\n\nA SMUG COMIC stands on stage, speaking into camera. The\nshow's going out live.\n\n\t\tSMUG COMIC\n\tHi. Um, we were supposed to have\n\tAndy Kaufman", "UD. He's on the floor.\n\nDead silence. Everyone is astonished.\n\nThey're all slack-jawed. Even PAUL SHAFFER. Trying to\ncover, Paul hurriedly kicks in with a ROCKABILLY TUNE.\n\nAndy jumps up, crazed.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS SHIT!\n\nLawler freezes in his seat. Letterman hides behind his\ndesk.\n\n", "on our show this week -\n\t- but now our producers aren't sure\n\tif it's such a good idea.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSome of us at Saturday Night Live\n\tthink Kaufman's a comic genius. But\n\tothers disagree... they say he's\n\tjust not funny anymore.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tSo we're putting the decision up to\n\tyou. Please call up and vote. To\n\tkeep Andy, call 1-900-244-7618. To", " Lorne Michaels nods.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOkay. It'd be good to have the old\n\tAndy back.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. DAVID LETTERMAN SHOW - NIGHT\n\nAndy and Jerry Lawler are on DAVID LETTERMAN'S show. Andy\nis pallid, hair shaggy, in a neckbrace and tweed jacket.\nHusky Lawler wears loud red pants and gold chains.\n\nAnd", "\n\tDUMP him, call...\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nTight on Andy, staring at the LA Times. A small headline\nsays \"JOKESTER ANDY KAUFMAN VOTED OFF 'SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE'\"\n\nHe is bothered.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThis is bad... I only got 28\n\tpercent! I'm like McGovern in\n\t'72...\n\nGeorge sighs.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAnd this wasn'", "\n\nMaynard is baffled.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\t\"Technical\"???\n\nINT. \"KAUFMAN SPECIAL\" SET, TECH BOOTH - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is in a booth, arguing with a HEAVYSET TECHNICIAN.\nZmuda watches and eats a banana.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's my show! Now make it roll!\n\n\t\tTECHNICIAN\n\tNO!\n\nMaynard strolls up,", "never see\n\tit, because they cut to commercials.\n\t\t(he talks extremely\n\t\tfast, to get in as\n\t\tmuch information\n\t\tbefore he's cut off)\n\tNow for sure they're gonna fire me,\n\tso if you want to see me again,\n\tyou'll have to come to Memphis...\n\nAnd BLINK! Andy gets CUT OFF.\n\nMaynard jumps up, furious. He snaps.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tI'm gonna STRANGLE", "XI curtain calls. The whole cast takes bows, then runs\noffstage. Everyone is grinning -- except Andy.\n\nHe soberly strolls up to Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI'm gonna quit.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tWhat?!?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tEach show is worse than the next.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tAre you nuts?! 40 million people\n\twatch you every week!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSo? What do they know?", "Go to commercial, man!\n\t\t(he turns to Andy)\n\tGet off the stage!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI said I didn't want to do the\n\tsketch.\n\n\t\tJACK BURNS\n\t\t(he JABS him)\n\tGET OFF!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tDON'T TOUCH ME!\n\nAndy HITS Jack. Jack recoils and SLUGS him. They start\nFIGHTING.\n\nBURLY CREWMEN run in. The crowd", "\ttime. We'll sing some songs --\n\t\t\t\tSORORITY GIRL\n\tDO LATKA!!\n\nAndy reacts, perturbed. He struggles to stay composed.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tUh, we'll play with puppets --\n\n\t\tDRUNKS IN UNISON\n\tLATKA! LATTTTKAAAA!!!\n\nAndy scowls. Then -- he loses it.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tExcuse me one moment.\n\nAndy", "ANDY\n\t\"And the bird says...\"\n\n\t\tDRUNK AUDIENCE\n\tTWEET!!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\"And the lion goes...\"\n\n\t\tDRUNK AUDIENCE\n\tROAR!!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\"And that's the way it goes!\"\n\t\t(he grins)\n\tThank you. Goodbye!\n\nAndy waves and bows. There's faint scattered applause.\n\nAndy sighs. An irritated MANAGER steps onstage. He shoot", "angrily hurries offstage.\n\nINT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM, BACKSTAGE - NIGHT\n\nZmuda is with the congas and props. Andy runs up.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGive me the book.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(startled)\n\tNo! Andy, don't do it --\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThey're asking for it.\n\nAndy fiercely GRABS a small book from Zmuda. Zmuda cring", "great opportunity for\n\tyou. The show's live, they'll give\n\tyou carte blanche, and you can get\n\tback to the business of making\n\tpeople laugh.\n\nAndy gets a strange gleam. He only heard one thing.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYou said -- live?\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nThe FRIDAYS CAST prepares. In a corner, ANDY is arguing\nwith director JACK BURNS.\n\n\t\tANDY\n", "LIVERY BOY drags in an enormous basket of flowers and\ngoodies. Andy takes the card. It reads \"Andy, we're all\npraying for you. Your friends at Taxi.\"\n\nAndy chuckles.\n\nEXT. ROCKEFELLER CENTER - DAY\n\nGeorge is eating with the Saturday Night Live Producer,\nLorne Michaels. They're eating lunch in an outdoor cafe.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThanks for seeing me on such short\n\tnotice.\n\t\t(he takes", ". From a safe distance, he\nstarts SCREAMING at Lawler.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tYOU ARE FULL OF SHIT, Lawler! I\n\tWILL SUE YOUR ASS! YOU'RE A FUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!\n\t\t(he POUNDS the desk)\n\tFUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I WILL GET YOU\n\tFOR THIS!!!\n\nFreaked, Andy leaps up and storms out.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN", "!\"\n\nThe audience is puzzled. The Kaufmans are alarmed.\n\nINT. SNL SET, BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nLorne Michaels is panicked.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOh my God, he's doing nothing. It's\n\tdead air...!\n\nINT. SNL SET - NIGHT\n\nBACK ON ANDY.\n\n\t\tMIGHTY MOUSE THEME (V.O.)\n\t\"We're not worrying at all.\n\t We're just listening" ], [ "ine.\n\nShe throws down her ticket and runs after him.\n\nEXT. MOVIE THEATER, STREET - DAY\n\nThey leave the theater and walk down the sidewalk.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tWhy did you call me? The last\n\tperson I ever expected to get a call\n\tfrom was you.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGosh. Gee, Lynne... I was just so\n\timpressed with your wrestling moves.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tYou were impressed with something.\n\tIt'", "dishes!\n\nThe crowd APPLAUDS. Lynne grins and starts to climb in the\nring. Andy's eyes are ablaze. But suddenly -- an oversized\nSouthern MAN jumps in and snatches the mike away.\n\n\t\tMAN\n\tSTOP IT! This woman's a FAKE!\n\tShe's nothing but Kaufman's\n\tgirlfriend!\n\nAndy and Lynne are startled.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tT-that's not true --\n\n\t\tMAN", "ANYON, BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\nThe telephone wakes up Lynne in the new bedroom. She looks\nover -- Andy's not there. She looks at the clock and it's\n4:30 am. She picks up the phone.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy!!... Where are you? I've been\n\tworried sick... NOW??... Where do\n\tyou want to meet?... Okay, I'll call\n\tthem...\n\nLynne's baffled.\n\nINT.", "\n\nAndy studies her... looking at Lynne's face, body, eyes.\nPause.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tDo you wanna move in together?\n\nLynne smiles slyly. She leans down and kisses him.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - DAY\n\nA moving van outside a funky 60's house. MOVERS carry boxes\nin.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE, LIVING ROOM", "\tC'mon. We'll go for a walk.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(beat; then she\n\t\tlaughs)\n\tFine.\n\nShe throws down her ticket and runs after him.\n\nEXT. MOVIE THEATER, STREET - DAY\n\nThey leave the theater and walk down the sidewalk.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tWhy did you call me? The last\n\tperson I ever expected to get a call\n\tfrom was you.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGosh. ", "Gee, restaurants are amazing,\n\taren't they? All these strangers\n\tsitting around... stuffing dead\n\tanimals in their faces! It's just\n\tincredible!\"\n\nShe GIGGLES more. The other three play baffled.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\t\"If you say so.\"\n\n\t\tACTOR\n\t\"Excuse me, I'll be right back.\"\n\nAndy stands and walks out.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN", "Gee, Lynne... I was just so\n\timpressed with your wrestling moves.\nEXT. MOVIE THEATER - DAY\n\nANDY is standing in front, waiting. A CAB stops and out\nsteps -- Lynne.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHi...\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tHi... am I late?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tNo, I'm sure we'll be fine.\n\nAndy gives Lynne her ticket. They enter the theater.\n\nINT. MOVIE THEATER -", "is\npure joy. He watches all the adults munching on their\ncookies, everyone giddy at the silliness of it all.\n\nAndy smiles beautifully. He squeezes Lynne's hand, then\nwhispers.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI don't want this to ever end...\n\nEXT. NEW MEXICO DESERT - DAY\n\nA stucco SPA RESORT sits in the middle of the rocky desert.\n\nINT. SPA - SAME TIME\n\nA room with soft lighting and bill", "CANYON HOUSE - DAY\n\nGeorge pulls up in his convertible. He jumps out.\n\nHe walks to the door and starts to knock -- when suddenly it\ncreeps open. It's Lynne, putting her finger to her lips:\nShh!\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE, LIVING ROOM - DAY\n\nThe house is dark. Lynne leads George into the shrouded\nliving room... and Andy is sitting in a Lotus position,\nconcentrating. In front is a WILD", "\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MOVIE THEATER - DAY\n\nANDY is at the box office, buying tickets.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tTwo, please.\n\nTwo tickets jump out of the machine.\n\nEXT. MOVIE THEATER - DAY\n\nANDY is standing in front, waiting. A CAB stops and out\nsteps -- Lynne.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHi...\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tHi... am I late?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t", "Lynne is escorted by a GUEST COORDINATOR. Lynne is dazed.\nThe Coordinator hands her a bunch of crap.\n\n\t\tGUEST COORDINATOR\n\tHere's your complimentary photo with\n\tMerv. Here's your Turtle Wax --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI don't need Turtle Wax.\n\n\t\tGUEST COORDINATOR\n\tEvery guest of Merv gets it. And\n\there's your dinner-for-two voucher\n\tat", " More sobbing.\n\nAndy's excitement builds.\n\nThen -- he reaches the front.\n\nA moment.\n\nLynne and Zmuda stare into Andy's eyes, drawn in by his\ntotal belief. They are overcome. It feels like they're\nsaying goodbye. Lynne gives Andy a tender kiss. Zmuda\nstarts to shake his hand -- and instead hugs him tightly.\n\nAndy smiles, then the attendants lift him from the\nwheelchair. They help him up to the bench.\n\nAnd", "ne is baffled.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy, the theater's that way!\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHey, I love movie theater popcorn...\n\tbut that doesn't mean I have to sit\n\tthrough \"On Golden Pond.\"\n\nLynne stands in place. Andy smiles.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tC'mon. We'll go for a walk.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(beat; then she\n\t\tlaughs)\n\tF", "out... a feisty\nwoman, LYNNE. She mutters, half hateful, half laughing --\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tI wanna kill that jerk.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. MERV GRIFFIN SHOW - MINUTES LATER\n\nAndy and Lynne stand in the ring. She scornfully watches\nhim preen about. Zmuda is in a referee's uniform.\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS REFEREE)\n\tWill you please", "CUT TO:\n\nEXT. BAGUIO CITY, PHILIPPINES - DAY\n\nBaguio, a tiny scratched-in-the-dirt Philippine city.\n\nSuddenly, a rattletrap COMMUTER PLANE lurches out of the\nsky. It hits a dirt runway. Dust flies. Chickens squawk\nand run.\n\nINT. BEAT UP TAXI, PHILIPPINES - DAY\n\nAndy, Lynne, and Zmuda ride through the", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "LYNNE\n\tI'm warning you, Kaufman: One\n\tmorning you're gonna wake up... and\n\tyour head's gonna be shaved.\n\nAndy laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge stares glumly at Andy. Andy is quite cheerful --\neating a big piece of chocolate cake.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy, do you realize you don't do\n\tcomedy anymore? ", "table, they sneak into the restroom\n\tto get a little high...\n\nThe crowd CHEERS rowdily.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\tI saw Michael!\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tWhere?\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\t\t(points to the set)\n\tThere!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET -", "Red Lobster.\n\nLynne takes her junk and hobbles off. She passes Andy, who\nsees her and grins.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tGosh, you scored! Look at all those\n\tgoodies!\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tBuzz off. Go patronize somebody\n\telse.\n\nLynne coldly hurries away. Andy chases after her.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHey, I hope you didn't take that\n\tstuff I said seriously. It was just\n", "shake hands, go to\n\tyour corners, and come out\n\twrestling.\n\nLynne extends her hand. Andy fakes a shake -- then snidely\nrefuses and struts away. The crowd HISSES.\n\nDING! It's the bell. The match begins. Lynne barrels at\nhim, craving a victory, but terribly unprepared for this\nexperience. Andy immediately grabs her by the legs and\nflips her over.\n\nWHUMP! She's down. Andy has" ], [ "don't know whether to be\n\tsad, or angry.\n\nThe Taxi cast are flustered.\n\n\t\tCAROL KANE\n\tWhy are people leaving? The\n\tcurtain's gonna open. Andy's gonna\n\tcome out... I know it!\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tSure, the body was just made of\n\twax...!\n\t\t(a very long beat)\n\tWasn't it......?\n\nSilence. They look to the front.\n\nThe", "it\" -- and precisely\n\twhy they want you!\n\t\t(beat)\n\tYou're getting EVERYTHING!\n\nWhoa. Andy looks up, astonished. His space station\nEXPLODES, but he doesn't notice. He turns to George... and\nslowly smiles sweetly. Genuinely.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWell thank you very much...!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET - DAY\n\nThe first week of \"TAXI.\"", "up to\n\t\tthe PRODUCER)\n\tWhere's Kaufman? Why isn't he\n\there??\n\nOne producer stands. This is tightly-wound ED WEINBERGER.\n\n\t\tED\n\tYou'll see him on Friday when we\n\tshoot. Now run the lines with\n\tRodney.\n\nAn angry beat. The actors resume...\n\nINT. TAXI SET - DAYS LATER\n\nThe AUDIENCE is filtering in. They fill the studio\nbleachers.", "is meditating. He's tranquil, at total inner peace.\n\nSilence -- until a little clock radio CHIRPS.\n\nAndy snaps his eyes open. He exhales a few calm breaths,\nthen sits upright. Andy reaches for a sealed envelope, rips\nit open, and removes a SCRIPT.\n\nAndy sighs, opens the script, and starts scanning the pages\nlike a speedreader.\n\nINT. TAXI SET - LATER THAT DAY\n\nBleachers are full. They'", "winks at him.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tI'm here with Ed over at Taxi.\n\tThere's been some trouble with Tony.\n\n\t\tANDY (V.O.)\n\tOh no! Did he get hurt?\n\n\t\tED\n\tNo, no, Andy, nothing like that.\n\t\t(nervous beat)\n\tBut... Tony's not fitting in. His\n\tstyle of performance is too...\n\tburlesque.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. TAX", "re now filming TAXI (the same\nscene as earlier). On cue, Andy enters as LATKA -- wide-\neyed, endearing, in mechanic's overalls.\n\nAndy is hilarious. The crowd HOWLS with laughter.\n\nMONTAGE - TAXI\n\nIn quick succession, a series of Andy's best Latka moments.\nHe's beloved. The applause grows louder, louder, LOUDER...\n\nINT. TAXI SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nTA", "\n\nINT. TAXI SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nActors mingle outside the dressing rooms.\n\n\t\t JUDD HIRSCH\n\tI'm taking bets we do the show with\n\tthe stand-in.\n\n\t\tMARILU HENNER\n\tNo, I hear Andy arrived. Rumor is\n\the's locked inside his dressing\n\troom.\n\nJudd is surprised.\n\nINT. TAXI SET, ANDY'S DRESSING ROOM - DAY\n\nAndy", ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "George doubles over, trying to catch his breath. He glances\ndown... and Tony is lying next to him. Little Wendy and\nZmuda run up, out of breath.\n\nThey all look at each other. There's a moment of\nunderstanding.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tHey. Good hustlin'.\n\nGeorge slowly smiles.\n\nINT. TAXI OFFICES - SAME TIME\n\nEd storms in, insanely angry.\n\n\t\tED\n\tThat asshole! That FU", "his booze bottle suddenly\nflies away and CRASHES against the wall.\n\nThe cast watches, pissed and bored.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tAnd now, the new theme song!\n\t\t(he starts SINGING)\n\t\"Oh yes, we drive a taxi,\n\t And we're havin' fun.\n\t Yeah, we work together,\n\t And we get the freakin' job done.\"\n\nINT. TAXI SET, TECH BOOTH - DAY\n\nBeleaguered Ed sits with George", ". I'll book you on\n\tsome concerts, and meanwhile, we'll\n\tshow the Special around... see if\n\tsomebody wants to buy it --\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(bitter)\n\tYeah, we can have a garage sale.\n\t\"Hey look, I got a floor lamp and a\n\tnetwork TV Special for only fifty\n\tcents!\"\n\nA glum moment.\n\nAndy fills water glasses.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tHow long is left on my Taxi\n\t", "\tANDY\n\tHey! Our first phone call!\n\t\t(he scrambles for\n\t\tthe phone)\n\tHello?\n\n\t\tGEORGE (V.O.)\n\tAndy... it's me. I've got some\n\tcrummy news.\n\t\t(long beat)\n\tTaxi's been canceled.\n\nSilence.\n\nAndy has no response.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (V.O.) (cont'd)\n\tDo you want me to come over? Talk\n\tabout", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", " The CAST rehearses on the Taxi\nset. PRODUCERS watch from the bleachers.\n\n(The actual TAXI scene will be determined.) JUDD HIRSCH,\nTONY DANZA, and MARILU HENNER read their lines.\n\nThen... a bored BLACK STAND-IN reads Latka's line.\n\nThe cast glances around. Tony Danza loses his temper.\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tMan, this is bullshit!\n\t\t(he marches", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "ing to be funny! They threatened\n\tto fire me from Taxi, unless I gave\n\tin to their demands!\n\t\t(shaken)\n\tBut... I won't! Because what you\n\tsaw was REAL!!\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET, CONTROL BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nMaynard looks like he's gonna faint.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tCue the commercial!\n\n\t\tANDY (ON TV)\n\tThese kinds of things go on everyday\n\tat the networks, only you", "television's\n\tTaxi\"...\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tIt's a rave! Boy, if I ever fake my\n\tdeath, they'll really miss me.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tIt's working for Elvis.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(sarcastic)\n\tYeah, he's just laying low, waitin'\n\tfor his comeback.\n\t\t(he sees an article\n\t\tand winces)\n\tGod, listen to this! \"It was\n", "Gee, restaurants are amazing,\n\taren't they? All these strangers\n\tsitting around... stuffing dead\n\tanimals in their faces! It's just\n\tincredible!\"\n\nShe GIGGLES more. The other three play baffled.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\t\"If you say so.\"\n\n\t\tACTOR\n\t\"Excuse me, I'll be right back.\"\n\nAndy stands and walks out.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN", "\n\t\tANDY\n\tHey. If I give you three-hundred\n\tdollars, will you come to LA and\n\thelp me destroy a TV show?\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET, REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY\n\nThe Taxi cast sits irritably around a big table, holding\nscripts. Ed Weinberger enters.\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\tED\n\tHe just arrived.\n\n\t\tCAR", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G" ], [ "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "ULANCE. He is \"unconscious.\"\n\nCameras CLICK and FLASH. The ambulance speeds away, siren\nWAILING.\n\nINT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY\n\nAndy sits watching an OLD DOCTOR examining a number of x-\nrays clipped to light panels.\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tI don't see any injury to your neck,\n\tMr. Kaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tAre you sure?\n\n\t\tOLD DOCTOR\n\tPositive", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "Gee, restaurants are amazing,\n\taren't they? All these strangers\n\tsitting around... stuffing dead\n\tanimals in their faces! It's just\n\tincredible!\"\n\nShe GIGGLES more. The other three play baffled.\n\n\t\tMELANIE\n\t\"If you say so.\"\n\n\t\tACTOR\n\t\"Excuse me, I'll be right back.\"\n\nAndy stands and walks out.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN", "stuck in the\n\thospital, running tests all day.\n\t\t(beat)\n\tAnd anyway, I've found a new guy\n\twho's gonna be able to instantly\n\tremove the cancer.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(startled)\n\tReally?\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah! He's a psychic surgeon in the\n\tPhilippines, and he's amazing! He\n\trubs you and sucks the disease right\n\tout!\n\nAndy beams. George stares sadly.", "-- then one man stands.\n\nIt's Michael.\n\nStraight-faced, he hurries out of his seat, sprints down the\naisle, and goes on stage. Michael checks her pulse and\nloosens her blouse. He presses Eleanor's chest, trying to\nrestart her heart. But then -- he shakes his head sadly.\nShe's dead.\n\nThe crowd MOANS sadly. Michael covers Eleanor with a\njacket.\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL, BACKST", " More sobbing.\n\nAndy's excitement builds.\n\nThen -- he reaches the front.\n\nA moment.\n\nLynne and Zmuda stare into Andy's eyes, drawn in by his\ntotal belief. They are overcome. It feels like they're\nsaying goodbye. Lynne gives Andy a tender kiss. Zmuda\nstarts to shake his hand -- and instead hugs him tightly.\n\nAndy smiles, then the attendants lift him from the\nwheelchair. They help him up to the bench.\n\nAnd", "y lies down. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead.\n\nHe looks over, and Jun Roxas is washing his hands from the\nprevious patient.\n\nAndy shivers, anticipating the miracle.\n\nJun turns. An attendant gives him a towel to dry off.\n\nAndy relaxes, readying for it all...\n\nHe glances at Jun's hands. Jun hands back the towel -- and\nunder it the attendant quickly slips Jun a sack of animal\nintestines.\n\nJun discreetly palms it. ", "frightened parents, in a neck brace, on the stretcher,\netc.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nGeorge, Zmuda and Andy are looking through hundreds of\nclippings from the newspapers.\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(reading aloud)\n\t\"... has been rushed to a nearby\n\thospital, where doctors are checking\n\thim for possible paralysis. His\n\tparents are at his bedside. Fans\n\twill best remember Kaufman as\n\tlovable Latka on", "\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tThe Philippines? I dunno... Andy...\n\the sounds like one of your\n\tcharacters.\n\nTIGHT - ANDY\n\nHis voice gets hushed.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tNo... this guy's special.\n\t\t(very sincere)\n\tHe performs miracles.\n\nGeorge doesn't know how to respond.\n\nAndy looks up pleadingly.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tHe's my last chance.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t ", " Then a SICKLY MAN crawls up...\n\nAndy rolls closer. He stares at all this with fear.\nNervousness. Hope.\n\nJun impassively presses his hand against the man's head. He\nconcentrates, searching... then pulls out some BLOODY GUTS.\n\nHe flings them into a bucket.\n\nThe man shakes. He is helped away.\n\nAndy is wide-eyed. He gets closer... closer...\n\nMore patients. More bloody guts.", "beat)\n\tCarnegie Hall...!\n\nGeorge gently smiles.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NATIONAL ENQUIRER OFFICES - DAY\n\nA STAFF meeting at the National Enquirer.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tI'm working on a great cover story:\n\tI've got a guy in the lab at Cedars.\n\tHe says Andy Kaufman is dying of\n\tlung cancer.\n\nBeat. The room GROANS.\n\n\t", "owing curtains. A New Age\nHEALER is laying crystals upon Andy's body.\n\nAndy COUGHS. His hat is off, revealing he's bald.\n\n\t\tHEALER\n\tNow we'll place a blue crystal.\n\tVery high vibrations. It's\n\twonderful for it's healing powers.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(spellbound)\n\tOkay. Let's try two of those... and\n\tone of the pink ones.\n\nEXT. SPA - DAY\n", "able, and we'd all be\n\tgoing, \"Poor Andy, he's really\n\tsick.\" So he chose lung cancer,\n\tbecause he WANTS us to be scratching\n\tour heads, saying, \"Is this real?\"\n\n\t\tJANICE\n\t\t(trying to convince\n\t\therself)\n\tOf course it's real. We're in a\n\thospital...\n\n\t\tMICHAEL\n\tMom, it's Cedars-Sinai! It's a", "impoverished city.\n\nAndy stares in amazement.\n\nEXT. CLINIC, PHILIPPINES - DAY\n\nThey reach a brick building. A sign says \"CLINIC,\" with an\neye over a triangle.\n\nINT. CLINIC, PHILIPPINES - DAY\n\nA NURSE hurriedly helps weakened Andy sign a bunch of forms.\nMoney is handed over.\n\nAndy's clothes are stripped off. They're thrown in a\nlocker.\n\nINT. CLINIC O", "\n\tHe's an actor. I remember him in\n\t\"The In-Laws.\"\n\nAh. Andy's eyes widen. His wheels are spinning fast.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tUh, yes... that's true. But he's\n\talso ordained in holistic medicine.\n\nON GEORGE - He glares, stewing. George is fed up.\n\nON ANDY - An unspoken tension. Then suddenly, he breaks\ndown.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)", "\t(frantic)\n\tSomebody get a DOCTOR!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(yelling)\n\tWE NEED A STRETCHER!!\n\nStanley, totally numbed, holds Janice. They're on the verge\nof collapsing. Tons of commotion. Cameras FLASH\nBLINDINGLY. A stretcher is lifted into the ring. Andy is\nloaded on. MUSIC fights the deafening NOISE.\n\nBEDLAM. Andy is carried through" ], [ ". LA IMPROV, SHOWROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nBudd is onstage.\n\n\t\tBUDD\n\tAnd now we have a treat for you late-\n\tnight diehards. The star of Taxi --\n\there in person, Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe sparse crowd APPLAUDS. Budd leaves, and Andy shuffles\nup.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tActually, Budd, you're wrong. I\n\tfound out today that Taxi's been\n\tcanceled.\n", "\tANDY\n\tHey! Our first phone call!\n\t\t(he scrambles for\n\t\tthe phone)\n\tHello?\n\n\t\tGEORGE (V.O.)\n\tAndy... it's me. I've got some\n\tcrummy news.\n\t\t(long beat)\n\tTaxi's been canceled.\n\nSilence.\n\nAndy has no response.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (V.O.) (cont'd)\n\tDo you want me to come over? Talk\n\tabout", "ing to be funny! They threatened\n\tto fire me from Taxi, unless I gave\n\tin to their demands!\n\t\t(shaken)\n\tBut... I won't! Because what you\n\tsaw was REAL!!\n\nINT. FRIDAYS SET, CONTROL BOOTH - NIGHT\n\nMaynard looks like he's gonna faint.\n\n\t\tMAYNARD\n\tCue the commercial!\n\n\t\tANDY (ON TV)\n\tThese kinds of things go on everyday\n\tat the networks, only you", "\n\t\tANDY\n\tHey. If I give you three-hundred\n\tdollars, will you come to LA and\n\thelp me destroy a TV show?\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET, REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY\n\nThe Taxi cast sits irritably around a big table, holding\nscripts. Ed Weinberger enters.\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\tED\n\tHe just arrived.\n\n\t\tCAR", "don't know whether to be\n\tsad, or angry.\n\nThe Taxi cast are flustered.\n\n\t\tCAROL KANE\n\tWhy are people leaving? The\n\tcurtain's gonna open. Andy's gonna\n\tcome out... I know it!\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tSure, the body was just made of\n\twax...!\n\t\t(a very long beat)\n\tWasn't it......?\n\nSilence. They look to the front.\n\nThe", "up to\n\t\tthe PRODUCER)\n\tWhere's Kaufman? Why isn't he\n\there??\n\nOne producer stands. This is tightly-wound ED WEINBERGER.\n\n\t\tED\n\tYou'll see him on Friday when we\n\tshoot. Now run the lines with\n\tRodney.\n\nAn angry beat. The actors resume...\n\nINT. TAXI SET - DAYS LATER\n\nThe AUDIENCE is filtering in. They fill the studio\nbleachers.", "\n\nINT. TAXI SET, BACKSTAGE - DAY\n\nActors mingle outside the dressing rooms.\n\n\t\t JUDD HIRSCH\n\tI'm taking bets we do the show with\n\tthe stand-in.\n\n\t\tMARILU HENNER\n\tNo, I hear Andy arrived. Rumor is\n\the's locked inside his dressing\n\troom.\n\nJudd is surprised.\n\nINT. TAXI SET, ANDY'S DRESSING ROOM - DAY\n\nAndy", "George doubles over, trying to catch his breath. He glances\ndown... and Tony is lying next to him. Little Wendy and\nZmuda run up, out of breath.\n\nThey all look at each other. There's a moment of\nunderstanding.\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON\n\tHey. Good hustlin'.\n\nGeorge slowly smiles.\n\nINT. TAXI OFFICES - SAME TIME\n\nEd storms in, insanely angry.\n\n\t\tED\n\tThat asshole! That FU", "it\" -- and precisely\n\twhy they want you!\n\t\t(beat)\n\tYou're getting EVERYTHING!\n\nWhoa. Andy looks up, astonished. His space station\nEXPLODES, but he doesn't notice. He turns to George... and\nslowly smiles sweetly. Genuinely.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tWell thank you very much...!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. TAXI SET - DAY\n\nThe first week of \"TAXI.\"", " The CAST rehearses on the Taxi\nset. PRODUCERS watch from the bleachers.\n\n(The actual TAXI scene will be determined.) JUDD HIRSCH,\nTONY DANZA, and MARILU HENNER read their lines.\n\nThen... a bored BLACK STAND-IN reads Latka's line.\n\nThe cast glances around. Tony Danza loses his temper.\n\n\t\tTONY DANZA\n\tMan, this is bullshit!\n\t\t(he marches", ". I'll book you on\n\tsome concerts, and meanwhile, we'll\n\tshow the Special around... see if\n\tsomebody wants to buy it --\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(bitter)\n\tYeah, we can have a garage sale.\n\t\"Hey look, I got a floor lamp and a\n\tnetwork TV Special for only fifty\n\tcents!\"\n\nA glum moment.\n\nAndy fills water glasses.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tHow long is left on my Taxi\n\t", "\tEDITOR\n\tWhat bullshit! No. No more Kaufman\n\tstories! He's burned us too many\n\ttimes!\n\n\t\tREPORTER #2\n\tYeah, he's definitely not dying.\n\tHe's playing Carnegie Hall next\n\tmonth!\n\nThe Reporter frowns.\n\n\t\tREPORTER #1\n\tJesus. Only Kaufman would use\n\tcancer as a publicity stunt.\n\nINT. LAUREL CANYON HOUSE - NIGHT\n\n", "winks at him.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tI'm here with Ed over at Taxi.\n\tThere's been some trouble with Tony.\n\n\t\tANDY (V.O.)\n\tOh no! Did he get hurt?\n\n\t\tED\n\tNo, no, Andy, nothing like that.\n\t\t(nervous beat)\n\tBut... Tony's not fitting in. His\n\tstyle of performance is too...\n\tburlesque.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. TAX", "is meditating. He's tranquil, at total inner peace.\n\nSilence -- until a little clock radio CHIRPS.\n\nAndy snaps his eyes open. He exhales a few calm breaths,\nthen sits upright. Andy reaches for a sealed envelope, rips\nit open, and removes a SCRIPT.\n\nAndy sighs, opens the script, and starts scanning the pages\nlike a speedreader.\n\nINT. TAXI SET - LATER THAT DAY\n\nBleachers are full. They'", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "LYNNE\n\tI'm warning you, Kaufman: One\n\tmorning you're gonna wake up... and\n\tyour head's gonna be shaved.\n\nAndy laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nGeorge stares glumly at Andy. Andy is quite cheerful --\neating a big piece of chocolate cake.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAndy, do you realize you don't do\n\tcomedy anymore? ", "George is oblivious. He's staring up at a BILLBOARD.\nThe BILLBOARD: It says \"HARRAH'S TAHOE PRESENTS, ANDY\nKAUFMAN & TONY CLIFTON! TOGETHER ON STAGE! ONE NIGHT\nONLY!\"\n\nGeorge is flabbergasted.\n\nEXT. SUNSET BLVD, PHONEBOOTH - DAY\n\nGeorge is shouting into a payphone.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tGene, you misunder", "The execs stare at George like he's lost his\nmind.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tBut Andy says he's fabulous.\n\t\t(awkward)\n\tHe also says, these are the terms.\n\nThe execs' leader, MAYNARD SMITH, shudders hopelessly.\n\n\t\t NETWORK GUY #2\n\tCouldn't Kaufman ask for more money,\n\tlike everyone else?\n\nGeorge slowly, sadly shakes his head: No.\n\nMay", "\n\tDUMP him, call...\n\nINT. SHAPIRO/WEST - DAY\n\nTight on Andy, staring at the LA Times. A small headline\nsays \"JOKESTER ANDY KAUFMAN VOTED OFF 'SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE'\"\n\nHe is bothered.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tThis is bad... I only got 28\n\tpercent! I'm like McGovern in\n\t'72...\n\nGeorge sighs.\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tAnd this wasn'", "stupefied. Finally -- George delivers the\nclincher.\n\n\t\tGEORGE (cont'd)\n\tAnd Taxi must guarantee two guest\n\tappearances to... Tony Clifton.\n\n\t\tNETWORK GUYS\n\tWHO???\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\tTony Clifton.\n\n\t\tNETWORK GUY #1\n\tWho is he?!\n\n\t\tGEORGE\n\t\t(solemn)\n\tI don't know.\n\nLong pause. " ], [ "y speaks timidly, seeming a bit dazed and regretful.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI apologize for all the wrestling\n\tI've ever done. I'm sorry for all\n\tthe abuse I've ever given...\n\t\t(soft)\n\tI was just playing bad guy wrestler.\n\tThat's not me... it's just a role.\n\tBut Jerry took it personally.\n\nLawler and Letterman are unimpressed.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n", "\nDead silence. Everyone is astonished.\n\nThey're all slack-jawed. Even PAUL SHAFFER. Trying to\ncover, Paul hurriedly kicks in with a ROCKABILLY TUNE.\n\nAndy jumps up, crazed.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS SHIT!\n\nLawler freezes in his seat. Letterman hides behind his\ndesk.\n\nAndy storms over, out-of-control", ". From a safe distance, he\nstarts SCREAMING at Lawler.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tYOU ARE FULL OF SHIT, Lawler! I\n\tWILL SUE YOUR ASS! YOU'RE A FUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!\n\t\t(he POUNDS the desk)\n\tFUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I WILL GET YOU\n\tFOR THIS!!!\n\nFreaked, Andy leaps up and storms out.\n\n\t\tLETTERMAN", "UD. He's on the floor.\n\nDead silence. Everyone is astonished.\n\nThey're all slack-jawed. Even PAUL SHAFFER. Trying to\ncover, Paul hurriedly kicks in with a ROCKABILLY TUNE.\n\nAndy jumps up, crazed.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS SHIT!\n\nLawler freezes in his seat. Letterman hides behind his\ndesk.\n\n", "You're a wimp.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(upset)\n\tMy father said I should've gotten a\n\tlawyer --!\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tThen your father's a wimp.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(losing it)\n\tAnd you're just poor white trash!\n\nLawler's had enough. Enraged, he wildly stands and SLAPS\nAndy.\n\nBAM!\n\nAndy crashes over and falls from his chair.\n\nTH", "\tANDY\n\tW-what are you DOING? I don't fight\n\tmen!\n\nLawler snickers and walks away. Completely overreacting,\nAndy grabs the mike.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI'm gonna SUE YOU!\n\t\t(he starts RANTING\n\t\tberserkly)\n\tLet me tell you something, Lawler!\n\tI am not a hick -- I'm a national TV\n\tstar! And I DON'T like a", "Andy storms over, out-of-control. From a safe distance, he\nstarts SCREAMING at Lawler.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tYOU ARE FULL OF SHIT, Lawler! I\n\tWILL SUE YOUR ASS! YOU'RE A FUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!\n\t\t(he POUNDS the desk)\n\tFUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I WILL GET YOU\n\tFOR THIS!!!\n\nFreaked, Andy leaps up and", " Lorne Michaels nods.\n\n\t\tLORNE MICHAELS\n\tOkay. It'd be good to have the old\n\tAndy back.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. DAVID LETTERMAN SHOW - NIGHT\n\nAndy and Jerry Lawler are on DAVID LETTERMAN'S show. Andy\nis pallid, hair shaggy, in a neckbrace and tweed jacket.\nHusky Lawler wears loud red pants and gold chains.\n\nAnd", "\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tAlright, you won. GET OFF HER!\n\nAndy remains, flapping his arms like a chicken.\n\nTHE BOOING grows. Louder. More emotional.\n\n\t\tANGRY VOICES\n\tJerry, help her! Get in there! Do\n\tsomething!\n\nLawler hesitates -- then suddenly climbs in the ring and\nlifts Andy off! Lawler angrily PUSHES Andy down.\n\nAndy is flabbergasted.\n\n\t", "ANDY\n\t\t(upset)\n\tMy father said I should've gotten a\n\tlawyer --!\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tThen your father's a wimp.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t\t(losing it)\n\tAnd you're just poor white trash!\n\nLawler's had enough. Enraged, he wildly stands and SLAPS\nAndy.\n\nBAM!\n\nAndy crashes over and falls from his chair.\n\nTHUD. He's on the floor.\n", "storms out.\n\nThe crowd CHEERS rowdily.\n\nAn unsure moment. Dave glances at Lawler.\n\nUntil, Andy stumbles back in. He tries to calm himself.\n\n\t\tANDY (cont'd)\n\tI am sorry. I am sorry to use those\n\twords on television. I apologize!\n\tI'm sorry!\n\t\t(demented)\n\tBut YOU -- you're a MOTHERFUCKING\n\tASSHOLE!!!!\n\nAndy slams Dave'", "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "\n\tYou said some pretty inflammatory\n\tthings.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tHe thinks everything's a joke -- but\n\tit's not.\n\t\t(to Andy)\n\tDid you laugh when you were layin'\n\tin the hospital??\n\nThe crowd WHOOOOS.\n\nAngst flickers on Andy's sweaty face. He stammers.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tT-there wasn't a reason to purposely\n\thurt me --\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\t", "s desk. Dave jerks nervously.\n\nCrazed, Andy looks down at Dave's coffee cup. Uh-oh.\nSuddenly, Andy grabs the coffee and DUMPS it on Lawler!\n\nLawler jumps, burned. A SECURITY GUARD runs in.\n\nAndy screams and hurtles away. He slams open the stage door\nand barrels out of sight.\n\n\t\t\t\t\tINTERCUT:\n\nINT. LORNE MICHAELS' HOUSE - S", "is losing his patience.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tHey! Did you come down here to\n\twrestle, or to act like an ass?\n\nAndy paces around, unsure of his next move.\n\n\t\tLAWLER (cont'd)\n\tLook... if you get in here, I'll\n\tgive you a free headlock.\n\nLawler leans down and offers his neck.\n\nAndy peers skeptically. People JEER. Andy looks at waiting\nLawler... then tentatively clim", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "\tthings.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tHe thinks everything's a joke -- but\n\tit's not.\n\t\t(to Andy)\n\tDid you laugh when you were layin'\n\tin the hospital??\n\nThe crowd WHOOOOS.\n\nAngst flickers on Andy's sweaty face. He stammers.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tT-there wasn't a reason to purposely\n\thurt me --\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tYou're a wimp.\n\n\t\t", "Lawler promenades around the ring, arms over his\nhead. The crowd SHOUTS CRAZILY, rooting him on.\n\nLynne runs to the ropes, SCREAMING for help.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tANDY!!!\n\t\t(frantic)\n\tSomebody get a DOCTOR!\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\t\t(yelling)\n\tWE NEED A STRETCHER!!\n\nStanley, totally numbed, holds Janice. They're on the verge\nof", "opposite end of the ring, gauging his\nrival... then slowly climbs in --\n\nUntil the second Lawler moves. Then Andy leaps back out!\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring again!\n\tHe doesn't seem interested in\n\tactually making contact with his\n\topponent.\n\nAndy struts around the floor, pointing to his brain. He\nsmirks at various spectators... until he finds himself face-\nto-face with -- his parents.\n\n" ], [ "Look... I don't know what your\n\tproblem is...\n\n\t\tTONY CLIFTON (V.O.)\n\tKaufman's a lying bastard! If you\n\tsign him, I'll RUIN YOU!\n\nCLICK. Clifton hangs up. George is bewildered.\n\nINT. MEDITATION INSTITUTE UNIVERSITY, CLASSROOM - DAY\n\nThe light is magical. Soothing SITAR music plays. Andy and\nfifteen other BAREFOOT ST", "SEUM, DRESSING ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nAndy is meditating, eyes shut, at rest in his private oasis.\nSuddenly -- DESPERATE BANGING on the door.\n\n\t\tUPSET VOICE (O.S.)\n\tC'MON, KAUFMAN! Christ, you're ON!\n\nAndy awakens. He smiles.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - NIGHT\n\nThe THEME FROM \"MIGHTY MOUSE\" begins playing. Then, AND", "\n\tIt's a set-up! And I won't allow\n\tour great sport to be degraded by a\n\tfix!!\n\nThe crowd angrily starts to HISS. Lynne whispers to Andy.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\tAndy... who is that...?\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tI'm Jerry Lawler, the KING of\n\tMemphis wrestling!!\n\t\t(this gets HUGE\n\t\tCHEERS)\n\tSo if Kaufman wants to tangle, I'", "\tGo to three! Eh, go to four!\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, FAMILY ROOM - SAME TIME\n\nStanley and Janice are flabbergasted. Jaws wide.\n\nOn their TV - fists are flying. Suddenly, the BAND kicks in\nand the show abruptly cuts to COMMERCIAL.\n\nThey stare at the TV. Until --\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tI shoulda made him play outdoors.\n", ". They do. And then at that precise moment\n-- somebody DROPS a spoon.\nTony jolts, as if hit by a current. He drops his hands\nagain, turns, and gives the perpetrator a murderous look.\nThen he turns again, lowers his head, and waits. And waits.\nAnd waits.\n\nThe man at George's table WHISPERS to his wife.\n\n\t\tPUSHY MAN\n\tHe's never gonna start! Kaufman\n\tthinks this is funny!", "personally, I think rubbing\n\trocks on people is a load of\n\thorseshit. But if it makes Andy\n\thappy, that's all that matters.\n\nThe man purses his lips.\n\n\t\tADMINISTRATOR\n\tI'm sorry to sound crass -- but we\n\tdon't want to be \"that health resort\n\tin New Mexico where Andy Kaufman\n\tdied.\"\n\t\t(beat)\n\tI'm going to have to ask you to\n\tleave.\n\nZmuda is speech", "The announcer stands center ring,\nbooming into the mike.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER\n\tAnd now! The MAIN EVENT of the\n\tevening! The match you've been\n\twaiting for: The King Jerry Lawler,\n\tversus Hollywood Andy Kaufman!\n\nThe THEME FROM \"ROCKY\" PLAYS -- and Lawler enters from the\ntunnel, wearing a shimmering hero's cape! The crowd ROARS\nwith approval.\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLI", "ares\nat Zmuda.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tSir, do you have a problem?\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tYeah, my problem is you're tired.\n\nAndy winces.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tI, I was asked to do this material -\n\t-\n\n\t\tZMUDA (AS JERK)\n\tSure, because your new stuff's a\n\tbunch of crap. Kaufman, people are\n\tsick of you. The wrestling...", "fat\nconvertible pulls up to the smallest house, and STANLEY\nKAUFMAN, 40, gets out. Still in his suit, he's a well-\nmeaning slave to his job -- tired, responsible.\n\nStanley goes over to admire the t-ball game. At bat is his\nson MICHAEL, 6, a natural charmer. Michael swings -- crack!\n-- and hits a solid single. Stanley smiles.\n\n\t\tSTANLEY\n\tThat's my boy! Good swingin", "\n\t\t(he lugs the dishes\n\t\tto the kitchen)\n\tThat was decaf, right?\n\nThe guy nods. Andy hurries over with the coffeepot and\nstarts pouring.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR GUY 1\n\tYou know, you look just like Andy\n\tKaufman.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tYeah, I get that all the time.\n\nAndy hurries off. The guy's buddy leans in, whispering.\n\n\t\tBLUE COLLAR G", "?! Well I got news for you,\n\tAndy Kaufman! Wrestling is a\n\tserious sport to me! I don't like\n\tanyone makin' fun of it, and I hate\n\tanyone insultin' the South! So we\n\tcan settle this two ways: We can go\n\tto court... or you can get in the\n\tring with a man, and wrestle for\n\tREAL!\n\nAndy watches, fuming. He is INFURIATED.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\tHe", "\n\nAndy silently sits. The doctor and two NURSES administer a\nchemo drip into Andy's body.\n\nHe stares at the needle in his arm.\n\nThe chemo begins.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. CARNEGIE HALL - NIGHT\n\nA dressy NEW YORK CROWD pushes into Carnegie Hall. The\nmarquee says \"ANDY KAUFMAN.\"\n\nINT. CARNEGIE HALL - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\n", "ler...\n\n\t\tZMUDA\n\tNo offense, pal, but I just don't\n\tthink you're built for it. These he-\n\tmen'll kick your ass!! They're\n\thuge!\n\nAndy's face drops. He realizes Zmuda's right.\n\nBeat -- then Andy notices an issue of Sumo Magazine, with a\npicture of a wrestler and his cute little fianc&#1081;e on the\ncover. He slowly lifts it up, intrig", "opposite end of the ring, gauging his\nrival... then slowly climbs in --\n\nUntil the second Lawler moves. Then Andy leaps back out!\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring again!\n\tHe doesn't seem interested in\n\tactually making contact with his\n\topponent.\n\nAndy struts around the floor, pointing to his brain. He\nsmirks at various spectators... until he finds himself face-\nto-face with -- his parents.\n\n", "like Christmas.\n\nINT. ANDY'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\nAndy's crappy apartment, which looks like a dorm room: Cheap\nfurniture, stained carpet, and a framed photo of the\nMaharishi. Andy lies on his bed, which is covered with\nTHOUSANDS OF LETTERS. He happily chats on the phone.\n\n\t\tANDY\n\t... Yes, it's Andy Kaufman!...\n\tReally! ...I got your fan letter...\n\tSo you like the", "s\nAndy a disgruntled look, then takes the mike.\n\n\t\tMANAGER\n\tThe comedy stylings of Andy Kaufman,\n\tLadies and Gentlemen!\n\nIn the b.g., Andy starts packing up his props: Hand puppets,\nconga drums, a phonograph... it all goes into a big bulky\ncase.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nINT. NY NIGHTCLUB - 1975 - LATER THAT NIGHT\n\nThe club is empty.", "goes NUTS. Jerry Lawler races over\nand snatches the mike, trying to maintain his dignity.\n\n\t\tLAWLER\n\tKaufman, we've had enough!! Let's\n\tyou and me do what we came here for\n\t-- WRESTLING!\n\nINT. MID-SOUTH COLISEUM - SECONDS LATER\n\nAnd DING! That's the bell! Andy strikes a threatening\npose. Lawler takes a step forward -- and Andy instantly,\ncowardly,", "runs for the ropes and jumps out of the ring.\n\nBOOOOO!!! Andy grins at the crowd and points at his brain:\nI'm smarter.\n\n\t\tANNOUNCER (V.O.)\n\tAnd Kaufman's left the ring!\n\tLawler's waiting for him to return.\n\n\t\tLYNNE\n\t\t(to Zmuda)\n\tIs this a strategy?\n\nLawler disparagingly frowns. The REF checks his watch.\nAndy crosses to the", "Tony called me himself.\n\tHe yelled at me, insisting that his\n\tdressing room be bigger than Andy's.\n\tThey're both going on tonight,\n\tbelieve me!\n\nGeorge is stupefied. He looks at his watch.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n\nEXT. LAKE TAHOE - DUSK\n\nMagnificent HARRAH'S dominates the skyline. The marquee\nblares \"TONY CLIFTON AND ANDY KAUFMAN", " We hear little Andy\ndoing VOICES.\n\n\t\tANDY (O.S.)\n\t\t(as WORRIED GIRL)\n\tBut professor, why are the monsters\n\tgrowing so big?\n\t\t(now as BRITISH\n\t\tPROFESSOR)\n\tIt's something in the jungle water.\n\tI need to crack the secret code.\n\nStanley rolls his eyes. He opens the door...\n\nINT. KAUFMAN HOUSE, ANDY'S ROOM - 19" ] ]

[ "Who was George Shapiro to Andy Kaufman?", "What role did Andy Kaufman play on the sitcom \"Taxi\" ?", "Who was Tony Clifton?", "What wrestler did Andy Kaufman have a romantic relationship with?", "Who is Bob Zmuda to Andy Kaufman?", "What fatal disease was Andy Kaufman diagnosed with?", "On what show did Andy Kaufman throw a drink at Jerry Lawler?", "What was Jerry Lawler's occupation?", "What was Andy Kaufman's dream venue?", "In addition to singing kids' songs, why does Kaufman's nightclub act fail?", "What singer does Kaufman impersonate via his \"foreign man\" character?", "On what television sitcom does Kaufman accept a role?", "How does Kaufman feel about sitcoms?", "Appearances on which comedy show increase Kaufman's fame?", "What novel does Kaufman read aloud to purposely aggravate his audience?", "When Kaufman becomes a wrestler, what limitation does he set?", "What does Kaufman refuse to do on a live ABC show?", "As a result of a wrestling injury, what does Kaufman have to wear?", "What invitation does Kaufman extend to the audience after his Carnegie Hall perfomance?", "What was Kaufman diagnosed with?", "Which show is Kaufman on when he refuses to speak his lines?", "What is Kaufman's dream venue?", "How is Andy banned from Saturday Night Live?", "Where does Kaufman meet Lynne?", "How does Kaufman feel about Taxi?", "Where does Kaufman go for a medical miracle?", "Who informs Kaufman that Taxi was cancelled?", "Who gets in fight with Lawler on David Letterman's show?", "What sport does Kaufman decide to become a professional of?" ]

[ [ "his talent agent", "his agent" ], [ "Latka Gravas", "latka gravas " ], [ "Andy Kaufman in disguise.", "a villain character that was created by Haufman" ], [ "Lynne Marguiles.", "Lynn Margulies" ], [ "his creative partner", "His creative partner." ], [ "lung cancer", "A rare form of lung cancer." ], [ "Late Night with David Letterman", "On Late Night with David Letterman." ], [ "professional wrestler", "wrestler" ], [ "Carnegie Hall", "Carnegie Hall" ], [ "He won't tell conventional jokes.", "He doesn't tell conventional jokes." ], [ "Elvis.", "Elvis" ], [ "Taxi.", "taxi " ], [ "He does not like them.", "he hates sitcoms" ], [ "Saturday Night Live.", "saturday night live" ], [ "The Great Gatsby.", "The Great Gatsby" ], [ "He will only wrestle women.", "would wrestle women only" ], [ "Say his lines.", "recite his lines" ], [ "A neck brace.", "neck brace" ], [ "To go out for milk and cookies.", "He invites them out for milk and cookies." ], [ "A rare form of lung cancer.", "rare lung cancer" ], [ "ABC's Fridays.", "ABC's Fridays" ], [ "Carnegie Hall.", "Carnegie Hall" ], [ "Through a vote of the audience members.", "the audience voted to ban him" ], [ "In a wrestling match.", "in a wrestling match" ], [ "He hates it.", "he doesn't like it" ], [ "The Phillipines.", "Philippines" ], [ "Shapiro.", "Shapiro" ], [ "Kaufman.", "andy kaufman" ], [ "Wrestling", "wrestling" ] ]

[ [ "\nacross Canada and the Barrens, he had held his own with all manner of\ndogs and achieved to mastery over them. Bitter rage was his, but never\nblind rage. In passion to rend and destroy, he never forgot that his\nenemy was in like passion to rend and destroy. He never rushed till\nhe was prepared to receive a rush; never attacked till he had first\ndefended that attack.\n\nIn vain Buck strove to sink his teeth in the neck of the big white dog.\nWherever his fangs struck for the softer flesh, they were counter", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "shoulders\nstood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into\nthe blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he\nlanded on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew\nwhere he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went\nfor a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night\nbefore.\n\nA shout from Francois hailed his appearance. \"Wot I say?\" the dog-driver\ncried to Perrault. \"Dat Buck for sure learn", "ies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the record\ntrip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, though\npractically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much. Three\nwere short-haired pointers, one was a Newfoundland, and the other\ntwo were mongrels of indeterminate breed. They did not seem to know\nanything, these newcomers. Buck and his comrades looked upon them with\ndisgust, and though he speedily taught them their places and what not\nto do, he could not teach them", "swung out on the trail with remarkable lack of\nexertion, turned their heads uneasily, and stopped in surprise. The\ndriver was surprised, too; the sled had not moved. He called his\ncomrades to witness the sight. Dave had bitten through both of\nSol-leks's traces, and was standing directly in front of the sled in his\nproper place.\n\nHe pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His\ncomrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied\nthe work that killed", "queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nPerrault nodded gravely. As courier for the Canadian Government, bearing\nimportant despatches, he was anxious to secure the best dogs, and he was\nparticularly gladdened by the possession of Buck.\n\nThree more huskies were added to the team inside an hour, making a total\nof nine, and before another quarter of an hour had passed they were in\nharness and swinging up the trail toward the Dyea Canon. Buck was\nglad to be gone, and though the work was hard he found he did", "him; but to\ncover his own discomfiture he turned upon the inoffensive and wailing\nBillee and drove him to the confines of the camp.\n\nBy evening Perrault secured another dog, an old husky, long and lean\nand gaunt, with a battle-scarred face and a single eye which flashed a\nwarning of prowess that commanded respect. He was called Sol-leks, which\nmeans the Angry One. Like Dave, he asked nothing, gave nothing, expected\nnothing; and when he marched slowly and deliberately into their midst", "and lingering in\nthe frosty air. They had made short work of the snowshoe rabbit, these\ndogs that were ill-tamed wolves; and they were now drawn up in an\nexpectant circle. They, too, were silent, their eyes only gleaming and\ntheir breaths drifting slowly upward. To Buck it was nothing new or\nstrange, this scene of old time. It was as though it had always been,\nthe wonted way of things.\n\nSpitz was a practised fighter. From Spitzbergen through the Arctic, and", "he had inherited size and weight, but it was his shepherd mother who\nhad given shape to that size and weight. His muzzle was the long wolf\nmuzzle, save that it was larger than the muzzle of any wolf; and his head,\nsomewhat broader, was the wolf head on a massive scale.\n\nHis cunning was wolf cunning, and wild cunning; his intelligence,\nshepherd intelligence and St. Bernard intelligence; and all this, plus\nan experience gained in the fiercest of schools, made him as formidable\na creature as any", "and every moment life and limb were in peril.\nThere was imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men\nwere not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no\nlaw but the law of club and fang.\n\nHe had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his\nfirst experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was\na vicarious experience, else he would not have lived to profit by it.\nCurly was the victim. They were camped near the log store,", "to stop at \"ho,\" to go ahead at \"mush,\"\nto swing wide on the bends, and to keep clear of the wheeler when the\nloaded sled shot downhill at their heels.\n\n\"T'ree vair' good dogs,\" Francois told Perrault. \"Dat Buck, heem pool\nlak hell. I tich heem queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nBy afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his\ndespatches, returned with two more dogs. \"Billee\" and \"J", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", ",\nwhen he would advance his fore legs and hitch ahead again for a few more\ninches. His strength left him, and the last his mates saw of him he lay\ngasping in the snow and yearning toward them. But they could hear him\nmournfully howling till they passed out of sight behind a belt of river\ntimber.\n\nHere the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his\nsteps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot\nrang out. The man came back hurriedly", "--he weighed only one hundred and forty pounds,--for his\nmother, Shep, had been a Scotch shepherd dog. Nevertheless, one hundred\nand forty pounds, to which was added the dignity that comes of good\nliving and universal respect, enabled him to carry himself in right\nroyal fashion. During the four years since his puppyhood he had lived\nthe life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself, was even\na trifle egotistical, as country gentlemen sometimes become because of\ntheir insular situation. But he", "ipes before going to bed, and one night they held a consultation.\nHe was brought from his nest to the fire and was pressed and prodded\ntill he cried out many times. Something was wrong inside, but they could\nlocate no broken bones, could not make it out.\n\nBy the time Cassiar Bar was reached, he was so weak that he was falling\nrepeatedly in the traces. The Scotch half-breed called a halt and took\nhim out of the team, making the next dog, Sol-leks, fast to the sled.\nHis intention was to", ", favored them with an incurious glance, yawned, and went\nto sleep again.\n\nDay and night the ship throbbed to the tireless pulse of the propeller,\nand though one day was very like another, it was apparent to Buck that\nthe weather was steadily growing colder. At last, one morning, the\npropeller was quiet, and the Narwhal was pervaded with an atmosphere of\nexcitement. He felt it, as did the other dogs, and knew that a change\nwas at hand. Francois leashed them and brought them on", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "all that they lived for and\nthe only thing in which they took delight.\n\nDave was wheeler or sled dog, pulling in front of him was Buck, then\ncame Sol-leks; the rest of the team was strung out ahead, single file,\nto the leader, which position was filled by Spitz.\n\nBuck had been purposely placed between Dave and Sol-leks so that he\nmight receive instruction. Apt scholar that he was, they were equally\napt teachers, never allowing him to linger long in error, and enforcing\nthe", "sharply and bit with especial venom into his\nwounded shoulder. He lay down on the snow and attempted to sleep,\nbut the frost soon drove him shivering to his feet. Miserable and\ndisconsolate, he wandered about among the many tents, only to find that\none place was as cold as another. Here and there savage dogs rushed\nupon him, but he bristled his neck-hair and snarled (for he was learning\nfast), and they let him go his way unmolested.\n\nFinally an idea came to him. He", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n" ], [ ", went from\nbad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It\nis a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the\nration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less\nthan die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,\nfollowed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging\nmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.\n\nBy this time all the amenities and gentlenesses", "ater, the nine team-dogs gathered together and sought shelter in the\nforest. Though unpursued, they were in a sorry plight. There was not\none who was not wounded in four or five places, while some were wounded\ngrievously. Dub was badly injured in a hind leg; Dolly, the last husky\nadded to the team at Dyea, had a badly torn throat; Joe had lost an eye;\nwhile Billee, the good-natured, with an ear chewed and rent to ribbons,\ncried and whimpered throughout", "it, and recalled instances they had known, where\ndogs, too old for the toil, or injured, had died because they were cut\nout of the traces. Also, they held it a mercy, since Dave was to die\nanyway, that he should die in the traces, heart-easy and content. So\nhe was harnessed in again, and proudly he pulled as of old, though more\nthan once he cried out involuntarily from the bite of his inward hurt.\nSeveral times he fell down and was dragged in the traces, and once the\nsled", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out\nof the depths of Time, he obeyed.\n\nHe was older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn. He\nlinked the past with the present, and the eternity behind him throbbed\nthrough him in a mighty rhythm to which he swayed as the tides and\nseasons swayed. He sat by John Thornton's fire, a broad-breasted dog,\nwhite-fanged and long-furred; but behind him were the shades of all\nmann", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "swung out on the trail with remarkable lack of\nexertion, turned their heads uneasily, and stopped in surprise. The\ndriver was surprised, too; the sled had not moved. He called his\ncomrades to witness the sight. Dave had bitten through both of\nSol-leks's traces, and was standing directly in front of the sled in his\nproper place.\n\nHe pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His\ncomrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied\nthe work that killed", ",\nwhen he would advance his fore legs and hitch ahead again for a few more\ninches. His strength left him, and the last his mates saw of him he lay\ngasping in the snow and yearning toward them. But they could hear him\nmournfully howling till they passed out of sight behind a belt of river\ntimber.\n\nHere the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his\nsteps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot\nrang out. The man came back hurriedly", "and every moment life and limb were in peril.\nThere was imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men\nwere not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no\nlaw but the law of club and fang.\n\nHe had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his\nfirst experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was\na vicarious experience, else he would not have lived to profit by it.\nCurly was the victim. They were camped near the log store,", "e poised in his hand,\nand as Buck shot past him the axe crashed down upon mad Dolly's head.\n\nBuck staggered over against the sled, exhausted, sobbing for breath,\nhelpless. This was Spitz's opportunity. He sprang upon Buck, and twice\nhis teeth sank into his unresisting foe and ripped and tore the flesh to\nthe bone. Then Francois's lash descended, and Buck had the satisfaction\nof watching Spitz receive the worst whipping as yet administered to any\nof the teams.\n\n\"", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", "with Buck had gone to teach him\nthat his rival was an unusually timid dog, who managed to hold his own\nonly because of his great weight and size.\n\nFrancois was surprised, too, when they shot out in a tangle from the\ndisrupted nest and he divined the cause of the trouble. \"A-a-ah!\"\nhe cried to Buck. \"Gif it to heem, by Gar! Gif it to heem, the dirty\nt'eef!\"\n\nSpitz was equally willing. He was crying with sheer rage and eagerness\nas", "and the\nspark dimmed and paled and seemed to go out. And when the club or whip\nfell upon them, the spark fluttered feebly up, and they tottered to\ntheir feet and staggered on.\n\nThere came a day when Billee, the good-natured, fell and could not rise.\nHal had traded off his revolver, so he took the axe and knocked Billee\non the head as he lay in the traces, then cut the carcass out of the\nharness and dragged it to one side. Buck", "rest Dave, letting him run free behind the sled.\nSick as he was, Dave resented being taken out, grunting and growling\nwhile the traces were unfastened, and whimpering broken-heartedly when\nhe saw Sol-leks in the position he had held and served so long. For the\npride of trace and trail was his, and, sick unto death, he could not\nbear that another dog should do his work.\n\nWhen the sled started, he floundered in the soft snow alongside the\nbeaten trail, attacking Sol-leks with", "him; but to\ncover his own discomfiture he turned upon the inoffensive and wailing\nBillee and drove him to the confines of the camp.\n\nBy evening Perrault secured another dog, an old husky, long and lean\nand gaunt, with a battle-scarred face and a single eye which flashed a\nwarning of prowess that commanded respect. He was called Sol-leks, which\nmeans the Angry One. Like Dave, he asked nothing, gave nothing, expected\nnothing; and when he marched slowly and deliberately into their midst", "competence. It was a\nsimple matter to give the dogs less food; but it was impossible to\nmake the dogs travel faster, while their own inability to get under way\nearlier in the morning prevented them from travelling longer hours. Not\nonly did they not know how to work dogs, but they did not know how to\nwork themselves.\n\nThe first to go was Dub. Poor blundering thief that he was, always\ngetting caught and punished, he had none the less been a faithful\nworker. His wrenched shoulder-blade, untreated and unrested", "had softened during the many generations since the day his last\nwild ancestor was tamed by a cave-dweller or river man. All day long he\nlimped in agony, and camp once made, lay down like a dead dog. Hungry as\nhe was, he would not move to receive his ration of fish, which Francois\nhad to bring to him. Also, the dog-driver rubbed Buck's feet for half\nan hour each night after supper, and sacrificed the tops of his own\nmoccasins to make four moccasins for Buck. This", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "appealed to everybody and to\neverything, finally wiping her eyes and proceeding to cast out even\narticles of apparel that were imperative necessaries. And in her zeal,\nwhen she had finished with her own, she attacked the belongings of her\nmen and went through them like a tornado.\n\nThis accomplished, the outfit, though cut in half, was still a\nformidable bulk. Charles and Hal went out in the evening and bought six\nOutside dogs. These, added to the six of the original team, and Teek\nand Koona, the husk", "shoulders\nstood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into\nthe blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he\nlanded on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew\nwhere he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went\nfor a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night\nbefore.\n\nA shout from Francois hailed his appearance. \"Wot I say?\" the dog-driver\ncried to Perrault. \"Dat Buck for sure learn" ], [ "competence. It was a\nsimple matter to give the dogs less food; but it was impossible to\nmake the dogs travel faster, while their own inability to get under way\nearlier in the morning prevented them from travelling longer hours. Not\nonly did they not know how to work dogs, but they did not know how to\nwork themselves.\n\nThe first to go was Dub. Poor blundering thief that he was, always\ngetting caught and punished, he had none the less been a faithful\nworker. His wrenched shoulder-blade, untreated and unrested", "and every moment life and limb were in peril.\nThere was imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men\nwere not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no\nlaw but the law of club and fang.\n\nHe had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his\nfirst experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was\na vicarious experience, else he would not have lived to profit by it.\nCurly was the victim. They were camped near the log store,", "loaded with letters for the outside. The dogs were tired, the\ndrivers grumbling, and to make matters worse, it snowed every day. This\nmeant a soft trail, greater friction on the runners, and heavier pulling\nfor the dogs; yet the drivers were fair through it all, and did their\nbest for the animals.\n\nEach night the dogs were attended to first. They ate before the drivers\nate, and no man sought his sleeping-robe till he had seen to the feet of\nthe dogs he drove. Still, their strength went down. Since the beginning\nof", ", went from\nbad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It\nis a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the\nration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less\nthan die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,\nfollowed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging\nmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.\n\nBy this time all the amenities and gentlenesses", "because\nof the ill treatment they had received and the unjust load. Buck was\nraging. He broke into a run, the team following his lead. Hal cried\n\"Whoa! whoa!\" but they gave no heed. He tripped and was pulled off his\nfeet. The capsized sled ground over him, and the dogs dashed on up the\nstreet, adding to the gayety of Skaguay as they scattered the remainder\nof the outfit along its chief thoroughfare.\n\nKind-hearted citizens caught the dogs and gathered up the scattered\nbelongings. Also,", "sharply and bit with especial venom into his\nwounded shoulder. He lay down on the snow and attempted to sleep,\nbut the frost soon drove him shivering to his feet. Miserable and\ndisconsolate, he wandered about among the many tents, only to find that\none place was as cold as another. Here and there savage dogs rushed\nupon him, but he bristled his neck-hair and snarled (for he was learning\nfast), and they let him go his way unmolested.\n\nFinally an idea came to him. He", "ies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the record\ntrip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, though\npractically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much. Three\nwere short-haired pointers, one was a Newfoundland, and the other\ntwo were mongrels of indeterminate breed. They did not seem to know\nanything, these newcomers. Buck and his comrades looked upon them with\ndisgust, and though he speedily taught them their places and what not\nto do, he could not teach them", ", camp was made.\nSome pitched the flies, others cut firewood and pine boughs for the\nbeds, and still others carried water or ice for the cooks. Also, the\ndogs were fed. To them, this was the one feature of the day, though it\nwas good to loaf around, after the fish was eaten, for an hour or so\nwith the other dogs, of which there were fivescore and odd. There were\nfierce fighters among them, but three battles with the fiercest brought\nBuck to mastery, so that when he br", "ater, the nine team-dogs gathered together and sought shelter in the\nforest. Though unpursued, they were in a sorry plight. There was not\none who was not wounded in four or five places, while some were wounded\ngrievously. Dub was badly injured in a hind leg; Dolly, the last husky\nadded to the team at Dyea, had a badly torn throat; Joe had lost an eye;\nwhile Billee, the good-natured, with an ear chewed and rent to ribbons,\ncried and whimpered throughout", "not in\nthe work, nor was the heart of any dog. The Outsides were timid and\nfrightened, the Insides without confidence in their masters.\n\nBuck felt vaguely that there was no depending upon these two men and the\nwoman. They did not know how to do anything, and as the days went by\nit became apparent that they could not learn. They were slack in all\nthings, without order or discipline. It took them half the night to\npitch a slovenly camp, and half the morning to break that camp and get\nthe sled", "!\" in pain and sorrow at the oath.\n\nBut she was a clannish creature, and rushed at once to the defence of\nher brother. \"Never mind that man,\" she said pointedly. \"You're driving\nour dogs, and you do what you think best with them.\"\n\nAgain Hal's whip fell upon the dogs. They threw themselves against the\nbreast-bands, dug their feet into the packed snow, got down low to it,\nand put forth all their strength. The sled held as though it were an\nanchor. After two efforts, they", "was now beaten more than the others because he was fresher; and Buck,\nstill at the head of the team, but no longer enforcing discipline or\nstriving to enforce it, blind with weakness half the time and keeping\nthe trail by the loom of it and by the dim feel of his feet.\n\nIt was beautiful spring weather, but neither dogs nor humans were aware\nof it. Each day the sun rose earlier and set later. It was dawn by three\nin the morning, and twilight lingered till nine at night. The whole long\nday was a blaze of sun", "appealed to everybody and to\neverything, finally wiping her eyes and proceeding to cast out even\narticles of apparel that were imperative necessaries. And in her zeal,\nwhen she had finished with her own, she attacked the belongings of her\nmen and went through them like a tornado.\n\nThis accomplished, the outfit, though cut in half, was still a\nformidable bulk. Charles and Hal went out in the evening and bought six\nOutside dogs. These, added to the six of the original team, and Teek\nand Koona, the husk", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", "more morose and irritable, and when camp was pitched at\nonce made his nest, where his driver fed him. Once out of the harness\nand down, he did not get on his feet again till harness-up time in the\nmorning. Sometimes, in the traces, when jerked by a sudden stoppage of\nthe sled, or by straining to start it, he would cry out with pain. The\ndriver examined him, but could find nothing. All the drivers became\ninterested in his case. They talked it over at meal-time, and over their\nlast p", "swung out on the trail with remarkable lack of\nexertion, turned their heads uneasily, and stopped in surprise. The\ndriver was surprised, too; the sled had not moved. He called his\ncomrades to witness the sight. Dave had bitten through both of\nSol-leks's traces, and was standing directly in front of the sled in his\nproper place.\n\nHe pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His\ncomrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied\nthe work that killed", "er alongside in the soft snow, where the\ngoing was most difficult, till exhausted. Then he fell, and lay where he\nfell, howling lugubriously as the long train of sleds churned by.\n\nWith the last remnant of his strength he managed to stagger along behind\ntill the train made another stop, when he floundered past the sleds to\nhis own, where he stood alongside Sol-leks. His driver lingered a moment\nto get a light for his pipe from the man behind. Then he returned and\nstarted his dogs. They", "rest Dave, letting him run free behind the sled.\nSick as he was, Dave resented being taken out, grunting and growling\nwhile the traces were unfastened, and whimpering broken-heartedly when\nhe saw Sol-leks in the position he had held and served so long. For the\npride of trace and trail was his, and, sick unto death, he could not\nbear that another dog should do his work.\n\nWhen the sled started, he floundered in the soft snow alongside the\nbeaten trail, attacking Sol-leks with", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "to the reign of primitive law,\nand he met the introduction halfway. The facts of life took on a fiercer\naspect; and while he faced that aspect uncowed, he faced it with all the\nlatent cunning of his nature aroused. As the days went by, other dogs\ncame, in crates and at the ends of ropes, some docilely, and some raging\nand roaring as he had come; and, one and all, he watched them pass\nunder the dominion of the man in the red sweater. Again and again, as he\nlook" ], [ "mankind and\nthe claims of mankind slipped farther from him. Deep in the forest a\ncall was sounding, and as often as he heard this call, mysteriously\nthrilling and luring, he felt compelled to turn his back upon the fire\nand the beaten earth around it, and to plunge into the forest, and on\nand on, he knew not where or why; nor did he wonder where or why, the\ncall sounding imperiously, deep in the forest. But as often as he gained\nthe soft unbroken earth and the green shade, the love for John Thor", "it. Several times he\nstopped and drew in the fresh morning air in great sniffs, reading a\nmessage which made him leap on with greater speed. He was oppressed with\na sense of calamity happening, if it were not calamity already happened;\nand as he crossed the last watershed and dropped down into the valley\ntoward camp, he proceeded with greater caution.\n\nThree miles away he came upon a fresh trail that sent his neck hair\nrippling and bristling, It led straight toward camp and John Thornton.\nBuck hurried on, swiftly", "or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out\nof the depths of Time, he obeyed.\n\nHe was older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn. He\nlinked the past with the present, and the eternity behind him throbbed\nthrough him in a mighty rhythm to which he swayed as the tides and\nseasons swayed. He sat by John Thornton's fire, a broad-breasted dog,\nwhite-fanged and long-furred; but behind him were the shades of all\nmann", "and Charles's eyes wistfully watering, they staggered into\nJohn Thornton's camp at the mouth of White River. When they halted,\nthe dogs dropped down as though they had all been struck dead. Mercedes\ndried her eyes and looked at John Thornton. Charles sat down on a log\nto rest. He sat down very slowly and painstakingly what of his great\nstiffness. Hal did the talking. John Thornton was whittling the last\ntouches on an axe-handle he had made from a stick of birch.", "but by\nsome other and subtler sense. He heard nothing, saw nothing, yet knew\nthat the land was somehow different; that through it strange things were\nafoot and ranging; and he resolved to investigate after he had finished\nthe business in hand.\n\nAt last, at the end of the fourth day, he pulled the great moose down.\nFor a day and a night he remained by the kill, eating and sleeping, turn\nand turn about. Then, rested, refreshed and strong, he turned his face\ntoward camp and John Thornton. He broke into the long", "being beaten. The last sensations of pain left him. He\nno longer felt anything, though very faintly he could hear the impact of\nthe club upon his body. But it was no longer his body, it seemed so far\naway.\n\nAnd then, suddenly, without warning, uttering a cry that was\ninarticulate and more like the cry of an animal, John Thornton sprang\nupon the man who wielded the club. Hal was hurled backward, as\nthough struck by a falling tree. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked on\nwistfully, wiped his water", "saw, and his mates saw, and\nthey knew that this thing was very close to them. On the next day Koona\nwent, and but five of them remained: Joe, too far gone to be malignant;\nPike, crippled and limping, only half conscious and not conscious enough\nlonger to malinger; Sol-leks, the one-eyed, still faithful to the toil\nof trace and trail, and mournful in that he had so little strength with\nwhich to pull; Teek, who had not travelled so far that winter and who\n", "would return and see how his own\nteam-mates were making out. To his astonishment, they had disappeared.\nAgain he wandered about through the great camp, looking for them, and\nagain he returned. Were they in the tent? No, that could not be, else he\nwould not have been driven out. Then where could they possibly be? With\ndrooping tail and shivering body, very forlorn indeed, he aimlessly\ncircled the tent. Suddenly the snow gave way beneath his fore legs\nand he sank down. Something wriggled under his feet. He spr", "ater, the nine team-dogs gathered together and sought shelter in the\nforest. Though unpursued, they were in a sorry plight. There was not\none who was not wounded in four or five places, while some were wounded\ngrievously. Dub was badly injured in a hind leg; Dolly, the last husky\nadded to the team at Dyea, had a badly torn throat; Joe had lost an eye;\nwhile Billee, the good-natured, with an ear chewed and rent to ribbons,\ncried and whimpered throughout", "to do what he would never have dreamed of doing.\n\n\"Can you lend me a thousand?\" he asked, almost in a whisper.\n\n\"Sure,\" answered O'Brien, thumping down a plethoric sack by the side of\nMatthewson's. \"Though it's little faith I'm having, John, that the beast\ncan do the trick.\"\n\nThe Eldorado emptied its occupants into the street to see the test. The\ntables were deserted, and the dealers and gamekeepers came forth to see\nthe", "forth it seemed that his heart\nwould be shaken out of his body so great was its ecstasy. And when,\nreleased, he sprang to his feet, his mouth laughing, his eyes eloquent,\nhis throat vibrant with unuttered sound, and in that fashion remained\nwithout movement, John Thornton would reverently exclaim, \"God! you can\nall but speak!\"\n\nBuck had a trick of love expression that was akin to hurt. He would\noften seize Thornton's hand in his mouth and close so fiercely", "not know that he\ngrowled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last\ntime in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it\nwas because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head.\n\nThe Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge\nwhen they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal\nthe like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live\nhurricane of fury, hurling himself upon", "one step to\nrun back, and then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans\ndisappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had\ndropped out of the trail.\n\nJohn Thornton and Buck looked at each other.\n\n\"You poor devil,\" said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI. For the Love of a Man\n\n\nWhen John Thornton froze his feet in the previous December his partners\nhad made him comfortable and left him to get well, going", "with a\nsneering ring of triumph in it.\n\n\"And they told you true,\" John Thornton answered. \"The bottom's likely\nto drop out at any moment. Only fools, with the blind luck of fools,\ncould have made it. I tell you straight, I wouldn't risk my carcass on\nthat ice for all the gold in Alaska.\"\n\n\"That's because you're not a fool, I suppose,\" said Hal. \"All the same,\nwe'll go on to Dawson.\" He uncoiled his whip. \"", "He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as\nPerrault and Francois and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in\nthe night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times\nhe would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of\nthe tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master's\nbreathing.\n\nBut in spite of this great love he bore John Thornton, which seemed\nto bespeak the soft civilizing influence, the strain of the primitive,", "He called\nHans and Pete to him. Their sacks were slim, and with his own the three\npartners could rake together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of\ntheir fortunes, this sum was their total capital; yet they laid it\nunhesitatingly against Matthewson's six hundred.\n\nThe team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was\nput into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and\nhe felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton.", "walked to the centre of the open space and listened. It was the call,\nthe many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever\nbefore. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was\ndead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound\nhim.\n\nHunting their living meat, as the Yeehats were hunting it, on the flanks\nof the migrating moose, the wolf pack had at last crossed over from the\nland of streams and timber and invaded Buck'", "\nstirred to the realities of which they were the shadows. He had done\nthis thing before, somewhere in that other and dimly remembered world,\nand he was doing it again, now, running free in the open, the unpacked\nearth underfoot, the wide sky overhead.\n\nThey stopped by a running stream to drink, and, stopping, Buck\nremembered John Thornton. He sat down. The wolf started on toward the\nplace from where the call surely came, then returned to him, sniffing\nnoses and making actions as though to encourage him. But Buck", "s privilege\nto knock the runners loose, leaving Buck to \"break it out\" from a dead\nstandstill. Matthewson insisted that the phrase included breaking the\nrunners from the frozen grip of the snow. A majority of the men who had\nwitnessed the making of the bet decided in his favor, whereat the odds\nwent up to three to one against Buck.\n\nThere were no takers. Not a man believed him capable of the feat.\nThornton had been hurried into the wager, heavy with doubt; and now that\nhe looked at the sled itself", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t" ], [ ", went from\nbad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It\nis a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the\nration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less\nthan die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,\nfollowed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging\nmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.\n\nBy this time all the amenities and gentlenesses", "ater, the nine team-dogs gathered together and sought shelter in the\nforest. Though unpursued, they were in a sorry plight. There was not\none who was not wounded in four or five places, while some were wounded\ngrievously. Dub was badly injured in a hind leg; Dolly, the last husky\nadded to the team at Dyea, had a badly torn throat; Joe had lost an eye;\nwhile Billee, the good-natured, with an ear chewed and rent to ribbons,\ncried and whimpered throughout", "indled to one hundred and fifteen. The rest of his mates, though\nlighter dogs, had relatively lost more weight than he. Pike, the\nmalingerer, who, in his lifetime of deceit, had often successfully\nfeigned a hurt leg, was now limping in earnest. Sol-leks was limping,\nand Dub was suffering from a wrenched shoulder-blade.\n\nThey were all terribly footsore. No spring or rebound was left in them.\nTheir feet fell heavily on the trail, jarring their bodies and doubling\nthe", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "appealed to everybody and to\neverything, finally wiping her eyes and proceeding to cast out even\narticles of apparel that were imperative necessaries. And in her zeal,\nwhen she had finished with her own, she attacked the belongings of her\nmen and went through them like a tornado.\n\nThis accomplished, the outfit, though cut in half, was still a\nformidable bulk. Charles and Hal went out in the evening and bought six\nOutside dogs. These, added to the six of the original team, and Teek\nand Koona, the husk", "circle. Buck did not\ncomprehend that silent intentness, nor the eager way with which they\nwere licking their chops. Curly rushed her antagonist, who struck again\nand leaped aside. He met her next rush with his chest, in a peculiar\nfashion that tumbled her off her feet. She never regained them, This\nwas what the onlooking huskies had waited for. They closed in upon her,\nsnarling and yelping, and she was buried, screaming with agony, beneath\nthe bristling mass of bodies.\n\nSo sudden", "flung\nhimself upon another, and at the same time felt teeth sink into his own\nthroat. It was Spitz, treacherously attacking from the side.\n\nPerrault and Francois, having cleaned out their part of the camp,\nhurried to save their sled-dogs. The wild wave of famished beasts rolled\nback before them, and Buck shook himself free. But it was only for a\nmoment. The two men were compelled to run back to save the grub, upon\nwhich the huskies returned to the attack on the team. B", "and the\nspark dimmed and paled and seemed to go out. And when the club or whip\nfell upon them, the spark fluttered feebly up, and they tottered to\ntheir feet and staggered on.\n\nThere came a day when Billee, the good-natured, fell and could not rise.\nHal had traded off his revolver, so he took the axe and knocked Billee\non the head as he lay in the traces, then cut the carcass out of the\nharness and dragged it to one side. Buck", "would return and see how his own\nteam-mates were making out. To his astonishment, they had disappeared.\nAgain he wandered about through the great camp, looking for them, and\nagain he returned. Were they in the tent? No, that could not be, else he\nwould not have been driven out. Then where could they possibly be? With\ndrooping tail and shivering body, very forlorn indeed, he aimlessly\ncircled the tent. Suddenly the snow gave way beneath his fore legs\nand he sank down. Something wriggled under his feet. He spr", "competence. It was a\nsimple matter to give the dogs less food; but it was impossible to\nmake the dogs travel faster, while their own inability to get under way\nearlier in the morning prevented them from travelling longer hours. Not\nonly did they not know how to work dogs, but they did not know how to\nwork themselves.\n\nThe first to go was Dub. Poor blundering thief that he was, always\ngetting caught and punished, he had none the less been a faithful\nworker. His wrenched shoulder-blade, untreated and unrested", "it, and recalled instances they had known, where\ndogs, too old for the toil, or injured, had died because they were cut\nout of the traces. Also, they held it a mercy, since Dave was to die\nanyway, that he should die in the traces, heart-easy and content. So\nhe was harnessed in again, and proudly he pulled as of old, though more\nthan once he cried out involuntarily from the bite of his inward hurt.\nSeveral times he fell down and was dragged in the traces, and once the\nsled", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "meantime the fire remained unbuilt, the camp half pitched, and the dogs\nunfed.\n\nMercedes nursed a special grievance--the grievance of sex. She was\npretty and soft, and had been chivalrously treated all her days. But\nthe present treatment by her husband and brother was everything save\nchivalrous. It was her custom to be helpless. They complained. Upon\nwhich impeachment of what to her was her most essential sex-prerogative,\nshe made their lives unendurable. She no longer considered the dogs, and", "and every moment life and limb were in peril.\nThere was imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men\nwere not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no\nlaw but the law of club and fang.\n\nHe had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his\nfirst experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was\na vicarious experience, else he would not have lived to profit by it.\nCurly was the victim. They were camped near the log store,", "loaded with letters for the outside. The dogs were tired, the\ndrivers grumbling, and to make matters worse, it snowed every day. This\nmeant a soft trail, greater friction on the runners, and heavier pulling\nfor the dogs; yet the drivers were fair through it all, and did their\nbest for the animals.\n\nEach night the dogs were attended to first. They ate before the drivers\nate, and no man sought his sleeping-robe till he had seen to the feet of\nthe dogs he drove. Still, their strength went down. Since the beginning\nof", "ies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the record\ntrip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, though\npractically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much. Three\nwere short-haired pointers, one was a Newfoundland, and the other\ntwo were mongrels of indeterminate breed. They did not seem to know\nanything, these newcomers. Buck and his comrades looked upon them with\ndisgust, and though he speedily taught them their places and what not\nto do, he could not teach them", "bound it down. It ate away\nfrom beneath; the sun ate from above. Air-holes formed, fissures sprang\nand spread apart, while thin sections of ice fell through bodily into\nthe river. And amid all this bursting, rending, throbbing of awakening\nlife, under the blazing sun and through the soft-sighing breezes, like\nwayfarers to death, staggered the two men, the woman, and the huskies.\n\nWith the dogs falling, Mercedes weeping and riding, Hal swearing\ninnocuously,", "\nbecause she was sore and tired, she persisted in riding on the sled. She\nwas pretty and soft, but she weighed one hundred and twenty pounds--a\nlusty last straw to the load dragged by the weak and starving animals.\nShe rode for days, till they fell in the traces and the sled stood\nstill. Charles and Hal begged her to get off and walk, pleaded with her,\nentreated, the while she wept and importuned Heaven with a recital of\ntheir brutality.\n\nOn one occasion they took her off the s", "er alongside in the soft snow, where the\ngoing was most difficult, till exhausted. Then he fell, and lay where he\nfell, howling lugubriously as the long train of sleds churned by.\n\nWith the last remnant of his strength he managed to stagger along behind\ntill the train made another stop, when he floundered past the sleds to\nhis own, where he stood alongside Sol-leks. His driver lingered a moment\nto get a light for his pipe from the man behind. Then he returned and\nstarted his dogs. They", "e poised in his hand,\nand as Buck shot past him the axe crashed down upon mad Dolly's head.\n\nBuck staggered over against the sled, exhausted, sobbing for breath,\nhelpless. This was Spitz's opportunity. He sprang upon Buck, and twice\nhis teeth sank into his unresisting foe and ripped and tore the flesh to\nthe bone. Then Francois's lash descended, and Buck had the satisfaction\nof watching Spitz receive the worst whipping as yet administered to any\nof the teams.\n\n\"" ], [ "s privilege\nto knock the runners loose, leaving Buck to \"break it out\" from a dead\nstandstill. Matthewson insisted that the phrase included breaking the\nrunners from the frozen grip of the snow. A majority of the men who had\nwitnessed the making of the bet decided in his favor, whereat the odds\nwent up to three to one against Buck.\n\nThere were no takers. Not a man believed him capable of the feat.\nThornton had been hurried into the wager, heavy with doubt; and now that\nhe looked at the sled itself", "the man, shifting the\nclub from right to left, coolly caught him by the under jaw, at the same\ntime wrenching downward and backward. Buck described a complete circle\nin the air, and half of another, then crashed to the ground on his head\nand chest.\n\nFor the last time he rushed. The man struck the shrewd blow he had\npurposely withheld for so long, and Buck crumpled up and went down,\nknocked utterly senseless.\n\n\"He's no slouch at dog-breakin', that's wot I", "outcome of the wager and to lay odds. Several hundred men, furred\nand mittened, banked around the sled within easy distance. Matthewson's\nsled, loaded with a thousand pounds of flour, had been standing for a\ncouple of hours, and in the intense cold (it was sixty below zero) the\nrunners had frozen fast to the hard-packed snow. Men offered odds of two\nto one that Buck could not budge the sled. A quibble arose concerning\nthe phrase \"break out.\" O'Brien contended it was Thornton'", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "s side.\n\n\"You must stand off from him,\" Matthewson protested. \"Free play and\nplenty of room.\"\n\nThe crowd fell silent; only could be heard the voices of the gamblers\nvainly offering two to one. Everybody acknowledged Buck a magnificent\nanimal, but twenty fifty-pound sacks of flour bulked too large in their\neyes for them to loosen their pouch-strings.\n\nThornton knelt down by Buck's side. He took his head in his two hands\nand rested cheek on cheek. He did not", "fore legs\nwere no more than in proportion with the rest of the body, where the\nmuscles showed in tight rolls underneath the skin. Men felt these\nmuscles and proclaimed them hard as iron, and the odds went down to two\nto one.\n\n\"Gad, sir! Gad, sir!\" stuttered a member of the latest dynasty, a king\nof the Skookum Benches. \"I offer you eight hundred for him, sir, before\nthe test, sir; eight hundred just as he stands.\"\n\nThornton shook his head and stepped to Buck'", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "driven stoutly to defend him. At the end of half an hour one man\nstated that his dog could start a sled with five hundred pounds and\nwalk off with it; a second bragged six hundred for his dog; and a third,\nseven hundred.\n\n\"Pooh! pooh!\" said John Thornton; \"Buck can start a thousand pounds.\"\n\n\"And break it out? and walk off with it for a hundred yards?\" demanded\nMatthewson, a Bonanza King, he of the seven hundred vaunt.\n\n\"And break it out,", "he circled back and forth for a chance to spring in. Buck was no less\neager, and no less cautious, as he likewise circled back and forth for\nthe advantage. But it was then that the unexpected happened, the thing\nwhich projected their struggle for supremacy far into the future, past\nmany a weary mile of trail and toil.\n\nAn oath from Perrault, the resounding impact of a club upon a bony\nframe, and a shrill yelp of pain, heralded the breaking forth of\npandemonium.", "over, then repeated the trick and\nbroke the right fore leg. Despite the pain and helplessness, Spitz\nstruggled madly to keep up. He saw the silent circle, with gleaming\neyes, lolling tongues, and silvery breaths drifting upward, closing in\nupon him as he had seen similar circles close in upon beaten antagonists\nin the past. Only this time he was the one who was beaten.\n\nThere was no hope for him. Buck was inexorable. Mercy was a thing\nreserved for gentler climes. He man", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "and though Buck's hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand,\nhe endured it without protest. When the man brought him water he drank\neagerly, and later bolted a generous meal of raw meat, chunk by chunk,\nfrom the man's hand.\n\nHe was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for\nall, that he stood no chance against a man with a club. He had learned\nthe lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was\na revelation. It was his introduction", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and", "and walked\nirresolutely up and down.\n\nThis was the first time Buck had failed, in itself a sufficient reason\nto drive Hal into a rage. He exchanged the whip for the customary club.\nBuck refused to move under the rain of heavier blows which now fell upon\nhim. Like his mates, he was barely able to get up, but, unlike them, he\nhad made up his mind not to get up. He had a vague feeling of impending\ndoom. This had been strong upon him when he pulled in to the bank, and\nit had not", "whole circle of sixty dogs started\nup; but he recovered himself, almost in mid air, and the circle sank\ndown again and waited.\n\nBut Buck possessed a quality that made for greatness--imagination. He\nfought by instinct, but he could fight by head as well. He rushed, as\nthough attempting the old shoulder trick, but at the last instant swept\nlow to the snow and in. His teeth closed on Spitz's left fore leg. There\nwas a crunch of breaking bone, and the white dog faced him on three\nlegs. Thrice he tried to knock him", "in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two\nor three steps. Francois followed him up, whereupon he again retreated.\nAfter some time of this, Francois threw down the club, thinking that\nBuck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to\nescape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He\nhad earned it, and he would not be content with less.\n\nPerrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better\npart of an hour. They threw", "s valley. Into the clearing\nwhere the moonlight streamed, they poured in a silvery flood; and in the\ncentre of the clearing stood Buck, motionless as a statue, waiting their\ncoming. They were awed, so still and large he stood, and a moment's\npause fell, till the boldest one leaped straight for him. Like a flash\nBuck struck, breaking the neck. Then he stood, without movement, as\nbefore, the stricken wolf rolling in agony behind him. Three others\ntried it in sharp succession; and one after the other they", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "He called\nHans and Pete to him. Their sacks were slim, and with his own the three\npartners could rake together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of\ntheir fortunes, this sum was their total capital; yet they laid it\nunhesitatingly against Matthewson's six hundred.\n\nThe team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was\nput into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and\nhe felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton." ], [ "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "fore legs\nwere no more than in proportion with the rest of the body, where the\nmuscles showed in tight rolls underneath the skin. Men felt these\nmuscles and proclaimed them hard as iron, and the odds went down to two\nto one.\n\n\"Gad, sir! Gad, sir!\" stuttered a member of the latest dynasty, a king\nof the Skookum Benches. \"I offer you eight hundred for him, sir, before\nthe test, sir; eight hundred just as he stands.\"\n\nThornton shook his head and stepped to Buck'", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "s side.\n\n\"You must stand off from him,\" Matthewson protested. \"Free play and\nplenty of room.\"\n\nThe crowd fell silent; only could be heard the voices of the gamblers\nvainly offering two to one. Everybody acknowledged Buck a magnificent\nanimal, but twenty fifty-pound sacks of flour bulked too large in their\neyes for them to loosen their pouch-strings.\n\nThornton knelt down by Buck's side. He took his head in his two hands\nand rested cheek on cheek. He did not", ". In fact, so inconceivably rapid were his\nmovements, and so closely were the Indians tangled together, that they\nshot one another with the arrows; and one young hunter, hurling a spear\nat Buck in mid air, drove it through the chest of another hunter with\nsuch force that the point broke through the skin of the back and stood\nout beyond. Then a panic seized the Yeehats, and they fled in terror to\nthe woods, proclaiming as they fled the advent of the Evil Spirit.\n\nAnd truly Buck was the Fiend inc", "ops.\n\nBut Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his.\nHe plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge's sons;\nhe escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge's daughters, on long twilight\nor early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge's feet\nbefore the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge's grandsons on his\nback, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through\nwild adventures down to the f", "one that put his name many notches higher on the totem-pole\nof Alaskan fame. This exploit was particularly gratifying to the three\nmen; for they stood in need of the outfit which it furnished, and were\nenabled to make a long-desired trip into the virgin East, where miners\nhad not yet appeared. It was brought about by a conversation in the\nEldorado Saloon, in which men waxed boastful of their favorite dogs.\nBuck, because of his record, was the target for these men, and Thornton\nwas", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and", "the man, shifting the\nclub from right to left, coolly caught him by the under jaw, at the same\ntime wrenching downward and backward. Buck described a complete circle\nin the air, and half of another, then crashed to the ground on his head\nand chest.\n\nFor the last time he rushed. The man struck the shrewd blow he had\npurposely withheld for so long, and Buck crumpled up and went down,\nknocked utterly senseless.\n\n\"He's no slouch at dog-breakin', that's wot I", "\nan instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape\ndetection.\n\nHis face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he\nfought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too\ngood-natured for quarrelling,--besides, they belonged to John Thornton;\nbut the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly\nacknowledged Buck's supremacy or found himself struggling for life with\na terrible antagonist. And Buck was", "bend after bend, but he could not gain. He lay down low\nto the race, whining eagerly, his splendid body flashing forward, leap\nby leap, in the wan white moonlight. And leap by leap, like some pale\nfrost wraith, the snowshoe rabbit flashed on ahead.\n\nAll that stirring of old instincts which at stated periods drives men\nout from the sounding cities to forest and plain to kill things\nby chemically propelled leaden pellets, the blood lust, the joy to\nkill--all this was Buck'", "ors,\ngreen pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping\nplant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge\nMiller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot\nafternoon.\n\nAnd over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he\nhad lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other\ndogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did\nnot count. They came and went, resided in the", "ed standing\nover her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to\ntrouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down,\nthat was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went\ndown. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment\nBuck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.\n\nBefore he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing\nof Curly, he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an\narrangement of straps and", "third with crushing\nforce. He clutched its slippery top with both hands, releasing Buck, and\nabove the roar of the churning water shouted: \"Go, Buck! Go!\"\n\nBuck could not hold his own, and swept on down-stream, struggling\ndesperately, but unable to win back. When he heard Thornton's command\nrepeated, he partly reared out of the water, throwing his head high, as\nthough for a last look, then turned obediently toward the bank. He swam\npowerfully and was dragged ash", "he circled back and forth for a chance to spring in. Buck was no less\neager, and no less cautious, as he likewise circled back and forth for\nthe advantage. But it was then that the unexpected happened, the thing\nwhich projected their struggle for supremacy far into the future, past\nmany a weary mile of trail and toil.\n\nAn oath from Perrault, the resounding impact of a club upon a bony\nframe, and a shrill yelp of pain, heralded the breaking forth of\npandemonium.", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "and though Buck's hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand,\nhe endured it without protest. When the man brought him water he drank\neagerly, and later bolted a generous meal of raw meat, chunk by chunk,\nfrom the man's hand.\n\nHe was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for\nall, that he stood no chance against a man with a club. He had learned\nthe lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was\na revelation. It was his introduction" ], [ "it. And he saw\nfurther. He never forgot a kindly greeting or a cheering word, and to\nsit down for a long talk with them (\"gas\" he called it) was as much his\ndelight as theirs. He had a way of taking Buck's head roughly between\nhis hands, and resting his own head upon Buck's, of shaking him back\nand forth, the while calling him ill names that to Buck were love\nnames. Buck knew no greater joy than that rough embrace and the sound of\nmurmured oaths, and at each jerk back and", "\nin which they lived, the strength of Buck's gaze would draw John\nThornton's head around, and he would return the gaze, without speech,\nhis heart shining out of his eyes as Buck's heart shone out.\n\nFor a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out\nof his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it\nagain, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he\nhad come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could\nbe permanent.", "his face, biting his hand--\"playing the general tom-fool,\" as\nJohn Thornton characterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth\nand cursed him lovingly.\n\nFor two days and nights Buck never left camp, never let Thornton out of\nhis sight. He followed him about at his work, watched him while he ate,\nsaw him into his blankets at night and out of them in the morning. But\nafter two days the call in the forest began to sound more imperiously\nthan ever. Buck's restlessness came back on him,", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", ", his\nmuscles swelled out, and the flesh came back to cover his bones. For\nthat matter, they were all loafing,--Buck, John Thornton, and Skeet\nand Nig,--waiting for the raft to come that was to carry them down to\nDawson. Skeet was a little Irish setter who early made friends with\nBuck, who, in a dying condition, was unable to resent her first\nadvances. She had the doctor trait which some dogs possess; and as a\nmother cat washes her kittens,", "ors,\ngreen pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping\nplant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge\nMiller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot\nafternoon.\n\nAnd over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he\nhad lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other\ndogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did\nnot count. They came and went, resided in the", "on themselves\nup the river to get out a raft of saw-logs for Dawson. He was still\nlimping slightly at the time he rescued Buck, but with the continued\nwarm weather even the slight limp left him. And here, lying by the river\nbank through the long spring days, watching the running water, listening\nlazily to the songs of birds and the hum of nature, Buck slowly won back\nhis strength.\n\nA rest comes very good after one has travelled three thousand miles,\nand it must be confessed that Buck waxed lazy as his wounds healed", "written on the\nearth, and Buck scented every detail of it down to the edge of a deep\npool. By the edge, head and fore feet in the water, lay Skeet, faithful\nto the last. The pool itself, muddy and discolored from the sluice\nboxes, effectually hid what it contained, and it contained John\nThornton; for Buck followed his trace into the water, from which no\ntrace led away.\n\nAll day Buck brooded by the pool or roamed restlessly about the camp.\nDeath, as a cessation of", "Like other men, they passed out\nof Buck's life for good.\n\nA Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company\nwith a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to\nDawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil\neach day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train,\ncarrying word from the world to the men who sought gold under the shadow\nof the Pole.\n\nBuck did not like it, but he bore up well", "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "ops.\n\nBut Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his.\nHe plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge's sons;\nhe escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge's daughters, on long twilight\nor early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge's feet\nbefore the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge's grandsons on his\nback, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through\nwild adventures down to the f", "one step to\nrun back, and then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans\ndisappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had\ndropped out of the trail.\n\nJohn Thornton and Buck looked at each other.\n\n\"You poor devil,\" said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI. For the Love of a Man\n\n\nWhen John Thornton froze his feet in the previous December his partners\nhad made him comfortable and left him to get well, going", "ed at each brutal performance, the lesson was driven home to Buck:\na man with a club was a lawgiver, a master to be obeyed, though not\nnecessarily conciliated. Of this last Buck was never guilty, though he\ndid see beaten dogs that fawned upon the man, and wagged their tails,\nand licked his hand. Also he saw one dog, that would neither conciliate\nnor obey, finally killed in the struggle for mastery.\n\nNow and again men came, strangers, who talked excitedly, wheedlingly,\nand in", "nton\ndrew him back to the fire again.\n\nThornton alone held him. The rest of mankind was as nothing. Chance\ntravellers might praise or pet him; but he was cold under it all,\nand from a too demonstrative man he would get up and walk away. When\nThornton's partners, Hans and Pete, arrived on the long-expected raft,\nBuck refused to notice them till he learned they were close to Thornton;\nafter that he tolerated them in a passive sort of way, accepting favors\nfrom them", "bend after bend, but he could not gain. He lay down low\nto the race, whining eagerly, his splendid body flashing forward, leap\nby leap, in the wan white moonlight. And leap by leap, like some pale\nfrost wraith, the snowshoe rabbit flashed on ahead.\n\nAll that stirring of old instincts which at stated periods drives men\nout from the sounding cities to forest and plain to kill things\nby chemically propelled leaden pellets, the blood lust, the joy to\nkill--all this was Buck'", "back\nwith a heavy club in his hand.\n\nBuck remembered the man in the red sweater, and retreated slowly; nor\ndid he attempt to charge in when Sol-leks was once more brought\nforward. But he circled just beyond the range of the club, snarling with\nbitterness and rage; and while he circled he watched the club so as to\ndodge it if thrown by Francois, for he was become wise in the way of\nclubs. The driver went about his work, and he called to Buck when he was\nready to put him", "shoulders\nstood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into\nthe blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he\nlanded on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew\nwhere he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went\nfor a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night\nbefore.\n\nA shout from Francois hailed his appearance. \"Wot I say?\" the dog-driver\ncried to Perrault. \"Dat Buck for sure learn", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n" ], [ "He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as\nPerrault and Francois and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in\nthe night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times\nhe would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of\nthe tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master's\nbreathing.\n\nBut in spite of this great love he bore John Thornton, which seemed\nto bespeak the soft civilizing influence, the strain of the primitive,", "being beaten. The last sensations of pain left him. He\nno longer felt anything, though very faintly he could hear the impact of\nthe club upon his body. But it was no longer his body, it seemed so far\naway.\n\nAnd then, suddenly, without warning, uttering a cry that was\ninarticulate and more like the cry of an animal, John Thornton sprang\nupon the man who wielded the club. Hal was hurled backward, as\nthough struck by a falling tree. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked on\nwistfully, wiped his water", "watched them, Thornton knelt beside him and with rough, kindly\nhands searched for broken bones. By the time his search had disclosed\nnothing more than many bruises and a state of terrible starvation, the\nsled was a quarter of a mile away. Dog and man watched it crawling along\nover the ice. Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut,\nand the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it, jerk into the air. Mercedes's\nscream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn and make", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "and Charles's eyes wistfully watering, they staggered into\nJohn Thornton's camp at the mouth of White River. When they halted,\nthe dogs dropped down as though they had all been struck dead. Mercedes\ndried her eyes and looked at John Thornton. Charles sat down on a log\nto rest. He sat down very slowly and painstakingly what of his great\nstiffness. Hal did the talking. John Thornton was whittling the last\ntouches on an axe-handle he had made from a stick of birch.", "movement, as a passing out and away from the\nlives of the living, he knew, and he knew John Thornton was dead. It\nleft a great void in him, somewhat akin to hunger, but a void which\nached and ached, and which food could not fill, At times, when he paused\nto contemplate the carcasses of the Yeehats, he forgot the pain of it;\nand at such times he was aware of a great pride in himself,--a pride\ngreater than any he had yet experienced. He had killed man, the noblest", "one step to\nrun back, and then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans\ndisappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had\ndropped out of the trail.\n\nJohn Thornton and Buck looked at each other.\n\n\"You poor devil,\" said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI. For the Love of a Man\n\n\nWhen John Thornton froze his feet in the previous December his partners\nhad made him comfortable and left him to get well, going", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", ", and evinced no intention of getting\nout of the way. Hal drew his long hunting-knife. Mercedes screamed,\ncried, laughed, and manifested the chaotic abandonment of hysteria.\nThornton rapped Hal's knuckles with the axe-handle, knocking the knife\nto the ground. He rapped his knuckles again as he tried to pick it up.\nThen he stooped, picked it up himself, and with two strokes cut Buck's\ntraces.\n\nHal had no fight left in him. Besides,", "departed from him. What of the thin and rotten ice he had\nfelt under his feet all day, it seemed that he sensed disaster close at\nhand, out there ahead on the ice where his master was trying to drive\nhim. He refused to stir. So greatly had he suffered, and so far gone was\nhe, that the blows did not hurt much. And as they continued to fall upon\nhim, the spark of life within flickered and went down. It was nearly\nout. He felt strangely numb. As though from a great distance, he was\naware that he was", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", "of\nflour on it,\" Matthewson went on with brutal directness; \"so don't let\nthat hinder you.\"\n\nThornton did not reply. He did not know what to say. He glanced from\nface to face in the absent way of a man who has lost the power of\nthought and is seeking somewhere to find the thing that will start\nit going again. The face of Jim O'Brien, a Mastodon King and old-time\ncomrade, caught his eyes. It was as a cue to him, seeming to rouse him\n", "\nout boldly, but not straight enough into the stream. He discovered the\nmistake too late, when Thornton was abreast of him and a bare half-dozen\nstrokes away while he was being carried helplessly past.\n\nHans promptly snubbed with the rope, as though Buck were a boat. The\nrope thus tightening on him in the sweep of the current, he was jerked\nunder the surface, and under the surface he remained till his body\nstruck against the bank and he was hauled out. He was half drowned, and", "closed with both arms\naround the shaggy neck. Hans snubbed the rope around the tree, and\nBuck and Thornton were jerked under the water. Strangling, suffocating,\nsometimes one uppermost and sometimes the other, dragging over the\njagged bottom, smashing against rocks and snags, they veered in to the\nbank.\n\nThornton came to, belly downward and being violently propelled back\nand forth across a drift log by Hans and Pete. His first glance was for\nBuck, over whose limp and", "written on the\nearth, and Buck scented every detail of it down to the edge of a deep\npool. By the edge, head and fore feet in the water, lay Skeet, faithful\nto the last. The pool itself, muddy and discolored from the sluice\nboxes, effectually hid what it contained, and it contained John\nThornton; for Buck followed his trace into the water, from which no\ntrace led away.\n\nAll day Buck brooded by the pool or roamed restlessly about the camp.\nDeath, as a cessation of", "walked to the centre of the open space and listened. It was the call,\nthe many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever\nbefore. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was\ndead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound\nhim.\n\nHunting their living meat, as the Yeehats were hunting it, on the flanks\nof the migrating moose, the wolf pack had at last crossed over from the\nland of streams and timber and invaded Buck'", "y eyes, but did not get up because of his\nstiffness.\n\nJohn Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, too\nconvulsed with rage to speak.\n\n\"If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you,\" he at last managed to say\nin a choking voice.\n\n\"It's my dog,\" Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as he came\nback. \"Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson.\"\n\nThornton stood between him and Buck", "not know that he\ngrowled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last\ntime in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it\nwas because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head.\n\nThe Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge\nwhen they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal\nthe like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live\nhurricane of fury, hurling himself upon", "or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out\nof the depths of Time, he obeyed.\n\nHe was older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn. He\nlinked the past with the present, and the eternity behind him throbbed\nthrough him in a mighty rhythm to which he swayed as the tides and\nseasons swayed. He sat by John Thornton's fire, a broad-breasted dog,\nwhite-fanged and long-furred; but behind him were the shades of all\nmann", "Get up there, Buck! Hi!\nGet up there! Mush on!\"\n\nThornton went on whittling. It was idle, he knew, to get between a fool\nand his folly; while two or three fools more or less would not alter the\nscheme of things.\n\nBut the team did not get up at the command. It had long since passed\ninto the stage where blows were required to rouse it. The whip flashed\nout, here and there, on its merciless errands. John Thornton compressed\nhis lips. Sol" ], [ "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", "Diego.\nBecause men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal,\nand because steamship and transportation companies were booming the\nfind, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted\ndogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by\nwhich to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.\n\nBuck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge\nMiller's place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden\nam", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", "and lingering in\nthe frosty air. They had made short work of the snowshoe rabbit, these\ndogs that were ill-tamed wolves; and they were now drawn up in an\nexpectant circle. They, too, were silent, their eyes only gleaming and\ntheir breaths drifting slowly upward. To Buck it was nothing new or\nstrange, this scene of old time. It was as though it had always been,\nthe wonted way of things.\n\nSpitz was a practised fighter. From Spitzbergen through the Arctic, and", ", his\nmuscles swelled out, and the flesh came back to cover his bones. For\nthat matter, they were all loafing,--Buck, John Thornton, and Skeet\nand Nig,--waiting for the raft to come that was to carry them down to\nDawson. Skeet was a little Irish setter who early made friends with\nBuck, who, in a dying condition, was unable to resent her first\nadvances. She had the doctor trait which some dogs possess; and as a\nmother cat washes her kittens,", "all that they lived for and\nthe only thing in which they took delight.\n\nDave was wheeler or sled dog, pulling in front of him was Buck, then\ncame Sol-leks; the rest of the team was strung out ahead, single file,\nto the leader, which position was filled by Spitz.\n\nBuck had been purposely placed between Dave and Sol-leks so that he\nmight receive instruction. Apt scholar that he was, they were equally\napt teachers, never allowing him to linger long in error, and enforcing\nthe", "queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nPerrault nodded gravely. As courier for the Canadian Government, bearing\nimportant despatches, he was anxious to secure the best dogs, and he was\nparticularly gladdened by the possession of Buck.\n\nThree more huskies were added to the team inside an hour, making a total\nof nine, and before another quarter of an hour had passed they were in\nharness and swinging up the trail toward the Dyea Canon. Buck was\nglad to be gone, and though the work was hard he found he did", "ops.\n\nBut Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his.\nHe plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge's sons;\nhe escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge's daughters, on long twilight\nor early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge's feet\nbefore the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge's grandsons on his\nback, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through\nwild adventures down to the f", "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", "ountain in the stable yard, and even\nbeyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the\nterriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly\nignored, for he was king,--king over all creeping, crawling, flying\nthings of Judge Miller's place, humans included.\n\nHis father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge's inseparable\ncompanion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was\nnot so large,", "present itself, and they pulled into Dawson\none dreary afternoon with the great fight still to come. Here were many\nmen, and countless dogs, and Buck found them all at work. It seemed the\nordained order of things that dogs should work. All day they swung up\nand down the main street in long teams, and in the night their jingling\nbells still went by. They hauled cabin logs and firewood, freighted up\nto the mines, and did all manner of work that horses did in the Santa\nClara Valley. Here and there Buck met Southland dogs,", "so she washed and cleansed Buck's\nwounds. Regularly, each morning after he had finished his breakfast,\nshe performed her self-appointed task, till he came to look for her\nministrations as much as he did for Thornton's. Nig, equally friendly,\nthough less demonstrative, was a huge black dog, half bloodhound and\nhalf deerhound, with eyes that laughed and a boundless good nature.\n\nTo Buck's surprise these dogs manifested no jealousy toward him. They\nseemed to share the kindliness and largeness", ", camp was made.\nSome pitched the flies, others cut firewood and pine boughs for the\nbeds, and still others carried water or ice for the cooks. Also, the\ndogs were fed. To them, this was the one feature of the day, though it\nwas good to loaf around, after the fish was eaten, for an hour or so\nwith the other dogs, of which there were fivescore and odd. There were\nfierce fighters among them, but three battles with the fiercest brought\nBuck to mastery, so that when he br", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "\nan instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape\ndetection.\n\nHis face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he\nfought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too\ngood-natured for quarrelling,--besides, they belonged to John Thornton;\nbut the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly\nacknowledged Buck's supremacy or found himself struggling for life with\na terrible antagonist. And Buck was", "two devils, he\nfound, while the day was yet young, that he had undervalued. At a bound\nBuck took up the duties of leadership; and where judgment was required,\nand quick thinking and quick acting, he showed himself the superior even\nof Spitz, of whom Francois had never seen an equal.\n\nBut it was in giving the law and making his mates live up to it, that\nBuck excelled. Dave and Sol-leks did not mind the change in leadership.\nIt was none of their business. Their business was to toil, and to", "ies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the record\ntrip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, though\npractically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much. Three\nwere short-haired pointers, one was a Newfoundland, and the other\ntwo were mongrels of indeterminate breed. They did not seem to know\nanything, these newcomers. Buck and his comrades looked upon them with\ndisgust, and though he speedily taught them their places and what not\nto do, he could not teach them" ], [ ".\"\n\nBuck seized Thornton's hand in his teeth. Thornton shook him back and\nforth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back\nto a respectful distance; nor were they again indiscreet enough to\ninterrupt.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII. The Sounding of the Call\n\n\nWhen Buck earned sixteen hundred dollars in five minutes for John\nThornton, he made it possible for his master to pay off certain debts\nand to journey with his partners into the East after a fabled lost mine,\n", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "ors,\ngreen pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping\nplant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge\nMiller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot\nafternoon.\n\nAnd over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he\nhad lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other\ndogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did\nnot count. They came and went, resided in the", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "and though Buck's hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand,\nhe endured it without protest. When the man brought him water he drank\neagerly, and later bolted a generous meal of raw meat, chunk by chunk,\nfrom the man's hand.\n\nHe was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for\nall, that he stood no chance against a man with a club. He had learned\nthe lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was\na revelation. It was his introduction", "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", "ed standing\nover her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to\ntrouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down,\nthat was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went\ndown. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment\nBuck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.\n\nBefore he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing\nof Curly, he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an\narrangement of straps and", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", ", his\nmuscles swelled out, and the flesh came back to cover his bones. For\nthat matter, they were all loafing,--Buck, John Thornton, and Skeet\nand Nig,--waiting for the raft to come that was to carry them down to\nDawson. Skeet was a little Irish setter who early made friends with\nBuck, who, in a dying condition, was unable to resent her first\nadvances. She had the doctor trait which some dogs possess; and as a\nmother cat washes her kittens,", "ountain in the stable yard, and even\nbeyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the\nterriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly\nignored, for he was king,--king over all creeping, crawling, flying\nthings of Judge Miller's place, humans included.\n\nHis father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge's inseparable\ncompanion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was\nnot so large,", "ops.\n\nBut Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his.\nHe plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge's sons;\nhe escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge's daughters, on long twilight\nor early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge's feet\nbefore the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge's grandsons on his\nback, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through\nwild adventures down to the f", "Diego.\nBecause men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal,\nand because steamship and transportation companies were booming the\nfind, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted\ndogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by\nwhich to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.\n\nBuck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge\nMiller's place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden\nam", "one's face the while he meditated some\nunderhand trick, as, for instance, when he stole from Buck's food at the\nfirst meal. As Buck sprang to punish him, the lash of Francois's whip\nsang through the air, reaching the culprit first; and nothing remained\nto Buck but to recover the bone. That was fair of Francois, he decided,\nand the half-breed began his rise in Buck's estimation.\n\nThe other dog made no advances, nor received any; also, he did not\nattempt to steal from", "rock Buck made his nest. So snug and warm\nwas it, that he was loath to leave it when Francois distributed the\nfish which he had first thawed over the fire. But when Buck finished his\nration and returned, he found his nest occupied. A warning snarl told\nhim that the trespasser was Spitz. Till now Buck had avoided trouble\nwith his enemy, but this was too much. The beast in him roared. He\nsprang upon Spitz with a fury which surprised them both, and Spitz\nparticularly, for his whole experience", "all that they lived for and\nthe only thing in which they took delight.\n\nDave was wheeler or sled dog, pulling in front of him was Buck, then\ncame Sol-leks; the rest of the team was strung out ahead, single file,\nto the leader, which position was filled by Spitz.\n\nBuck had been purposely placed between Dave and Sol-leks so that he\nmight receive instruction. Apt scholar that he was, they were equally\napt teachers, never allowing him to linger long in error, and enforcing\nthe", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre" ], [ ", these strange men? Why were they keeping him pent up in\nthis narrow crate? He did not know why, but he felt oppressed by the\nvague sense of impending calamity. Several times during the night he\nsprang to his feet when the shed door rattled open, expecting to see the\nJudge, or the boys at least. But each time it was the bulging face of\nthe saloon-keeper that peered in at him by the sickly light of a tallow\ncandle. And each time the joyful bark that trembled in Buck's throat", "ops.\n\nBut Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his.\nHe plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge's sons;\nhe escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge's daughters, on long twilight\nor early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge's feet\nbefore the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge's grandsons on his\nback, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through\nwild adventures down to the f", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", "his eyes, and into them came the\nunbridled anger of a kidnapped king. The man sprang for his throat, but\nBuck was too quick for him. His jaws closed on the hand, nor did they\nrelax till his senses were choked out of him once more.\n\n\"Yep, has fits,\" the man said, hiding his mangled hand from the\nbaggageman, who had been attracted by the sounds of struggle. \"I'm\ntakin' 'm up for the boss to 'Frisco. A crack dog-doctor there thinks\n", "izing an athletic club, on the memorable night of\nManuel's treachery. No one saw him and Buck go off through the orchard\non what Buck imagined was merely a stroll. And with the exception of a\nsolitary man, no one saw them arrive at the little flag station known\nas College Park. This man talked with Manuel, and money chinked between\nthem.\n\n\"You might wrap up the goods before you deliver 'm,\" the stranger said\ngruffly, and Manuel doubled a piece of stout rope around Buck's neck\nunder the", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "ors,\ngreen pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping\nplant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge\nMiller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot\nafternoon.\n\nAnd over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he\nhad lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other\ndogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did\nnot count. They came and went, resided in the", "ountain in the stable yard, and even\nbeyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the\nterriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly\nignored, for he was king,--king over all creeping, crawling, flying\nthings of Judge Miller's place, humans included.\n\nHis father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge's inseparable\ncompanion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was\nnot so large,", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and", ",\" he added.\n\nDazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life\nhalf throttled out of him, Buck attempted to face his tormentors. But he\nwas thrown down and choked repeatedly, till they succeeded in filing the\nheavy brass collar from off his neck. Then the rope was removed, and he\nwas flung into a cagelike crate.\n\nThere he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and\nwounded pride. He could not understand what it all meant. What did they\nwant with him", "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "Diego.\nBecause men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal,\nand because steamship and transportation companies were booming the\nfind, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted\ndogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by\nwhich to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.\n\nBuck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge\nMiller's place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden\nam", "with Buck had gone to teach him\nthat his rival was an unusually timid dog, who managed to hold his own\nonly because of his great weight and size.\n\nFrancois was surprised, too, when they shot out in a tangle from the\ndisrupted nest and he divined the cause of the trouble. \"A-a-ah!\"\nhe cried to Buck. \"Gif it to heem, by Gar! Gif it to heem, the dirty\nt'eef!\"\n\nSpitz was equally willing. He was crying with sheer rage and eagerness\nas", "was\ntwisted into a savage growl.\n\nBut the saloon-keeper let him alone, and in the morning four men entered\nand picked up the crate. More tormentors, Buck decided, for they were\nevil-looking creatures, ragged and unkempt; and he stormed and raged at\nthem through the bars. They only laughed and poked sticks at him, which\nhe promptly assailed with his teeth till he realized that that was what\nthey wanted. Whereupon he lay down sullenly and allowed the crate to be\nlifted into", "\"Jump, Buck!\" he\ncommanded, sweeping his arm out and over the chasm. The next instant he\nwas grappling with Buck on the extreme edge, while Hans and Pete were\ndragging them back into safety.\n\n\"It's uncanny,\" Pete said, after it was over and they had caught their\nspeech.\n\nThornton shook his head. \"No, it is splendid, and it is terrible, too.\nDo you know, it sometimes makes me afraid.\"\n\n\"I'm not hankering to be the man that l", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "it. And he saw\nfurther. He never forgot a kindly greeting or a cheering word, and to\nsit down for a long talk with them (\"gas\" he called it) was as much his\ndelight as theirs. He had a way of taking Buck's head roughly between\nhis hands, and resting his own head upon Buck's, of shaking him back\nand forth, the while calling him ill names that to Buck were love\nnames. Buck knew no greater joy than that rough embrace and the sound of\nmurmured oaths, and at each jerk back and", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre" ], [ "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "his eyes, and into them came the\nunbridled anger of a kidnapped king. The man sprang for his throat, but\nBuck was too quick for him. His jaws closed on the hand, nor did they\nrelax till his senses were choked out of him once more.\n\n\"Yep, has fits,\" the man said, hiding his mangled hand from the\nbaggageman, who had been attracted by the sounds of struggle. \"I'm\ntakin' 'm up for the boss to 'Frisco. A crack dog-doctor there thinks\n", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "Diego.\nBecause men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal,\nand because steamship and transportation companies were booming the\nfind, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted\ndogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by\nwhich to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.\n\nBuck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge\nMiller's place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden\nam", "place, and why\nsuch as they should adventure the North is part of the mystery of things\nthat passes understanding.\n\nBuck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the\nGovernment agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and the mail-train\ndrivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault and\nFrancois and the others who had gone before. When driven with his mates\nto the new owners' camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair, tent\nhalf stretched, dishes unwashed", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", ",\" he added.\n\nDazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life\nhalf throttled out of him, Buck attempted to face his tormentors. But he\nwas thrown down and choked repeatedly, till they succeeded in filing the\nheavy brass collar from off his neck. Then the rope was removed, and he\nwas flung into a cagelike crate.\n\nThere he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and\nwounded pride. He could not understand what it all meant. What did they\nwant with him", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", ".\"\n\nBuck seized Thornton's hand in his teeth. Thornton shook him back and\nforth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back\nto a respectful distance; nor were they again indiscreet enough to\ninterrupt.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII. The Sounding of the Call\n\n\nWhen Buck earned sixteen hundred dollars in five minutes for John\nThornton, he made it possible for his master to pay off certain debts\nand to journey with his partners into the East after a fabled lost mine,\n", ", these strange men? Why were they keeping him pent up in\nthis narrow crate? He did not know why, but he felt oppressed by the\nvague sense of impending calamity. Several times during the night he\nsprang to his feet when the shed door rattled open, expecting to see the\nJudge, or the boys at least. But each time it was the bulging face of\nthe saloon-keeper that peered in at him by the sickly light of a tallow\ncandle. And each time the joyful bark that trembled in Buck's throat", "was\ntwisted into a savage growl.\n\nBut the saloon-keeper let him alone, and in the morning four men entered\nand picked up the crate. More tormentors, Buck decided, for they were\nevil-looking creatures, ragged and unkempt; and he stormed and raged at\nthem through the bars. They only laughed and poked sticks at him, which\nhe promptly assailed with his teeth till he realized that that was what\nthey wanted. Whereupon he lay down sullenly and allowed the crate to be\nlifted into", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "Like other men, they passed out\nof Buck's life for good.\n\nA Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company\nwith a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to\nDawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil\neach day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train,\ncarrying word from the world to the men who sought gold under the shadow\nof the Pole.\n\nBuck did not like it, but he bore up well", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "like strips of galvanized iron, and when a dog wrestled it into\nhis stomach it thawed into thin and innutritious leathery strings and\ninto a mass of short hair, irritating and indigestible.\n\nAnd through it all Buck staggered along at the head of the team as in\na nightmare. He pulled when he could; when he could no longer pull, he\nfell down and remained down till blows from whip or club drove him\nto his feet again. All the stiffness and gloss had gone out of his\nbeautiful fur", "ed standing\nover her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to\ntrouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down,\nthat was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went\ndown. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment\nBuck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.\n\nBefore he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing\nof Curly, he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an\narrangement of straps and", "turned\nabout and started slowly on the back track. For the better part of an\nhour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down,\npointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck\nheld steadily on his way he heard it grow faint and fainter until it was\nlost in the distance.\n\nJohn Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang\nupon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him,\nlicking" ], [ "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "the Narwhal, it\nwas the last he saw of the warm Southland. Curly and he were taken below\nby Perrault and turned over to a black-faced giant called Francois.\nPerrault was a French-Canadian, and swarthy; but Francois was a\nFrench-Canadian half-breed, and twice as swarthy. They were a new kind\nof men to Buck (of which he was destined to see many more), and while\nhe developed no affection for them, he none the less grew honestly to\nrespect them. He", "to stop at \"ho,\" to go ahead at \"mush,\"\nto swing wide on the bends, and to keep clear of the wheeler when the\nloaded sled shot downhill at their heels.\n\n\"T'ree vair' good dogs,\" Francois told Perrault. \"Dat Buck, heem pool\nlak hell. I tich heem queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nBy afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his\ndespatches, returned with two more dogs. \"Billee\" and \"J", "place, and why\nsuch as they should adventure the North is part of the mystery of things\nthat passes understanding.\n\nBuck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the\nGovernment agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and the mail-train\ndrivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault and\nFrancois and the others who had gone before. When driven with his mates\nto the new owners' camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair, tent\nhalf stretched, dishes unwashed", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "and Francois threw chests up and down the\nmain street of Skaguay and were deluged with invitations to drink, while\nthe team was the constant centre of a worshipful crowd of dog-busters\nand mushers. Then three or four western bad men aspired to clean out\nthe town, were riddled like pepper-boxes for their pains, and public\ninterest turned to other idols. Next came official orders. Francois\ncalled Buck to him, threw his arms around him, wept over him. And that\nwas the last of Francois and Perrault.", "buckles. It was a harness, such as he had seen\nthe grooms put on the horses at home. And as he had seen horses work,\nso he was set to work, hauling Francois on a sled to the forest that\nfringed the valley, and returning with a load of firewood. Though his\ndignity was sorely hurt by thus being made a draught animal, he was too\nwise to rebel. He buckled down with a will and did his best, though\nit was all new and strange. Francois was stern, demanding instant\nob", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "was to be left\nalone; though, as Buck was afterward to learn, each of them possessed\none other and even more vital ambition.\n\nThat night Buck faced the great problem of sleeping. The tent, illumined\nby a candle, glowed warmly in the midst of the white plain; and when he,\nas a matter of course, entered it, both Perrault and Francois bombarded\nhim with curses and cooking utensils, till he recovered from his\nconsternation and fled ignominiously into the outer cold. A chill wind\nwas blowing that nipped him", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nPerrault nodded gravely. As courier for the Canadian Government, bearing\nimportant despatches, he was anxious to secure the best dogs, and he was\nparticularly gladdened by the possession of Buck.\n\nThree more huskies were added to the team inside an hour, making a total\nof nine, and before another quarter of an hour had passed they were in\nharness and swinging up the trail toward the Dyea Canon. Buck was\nglad to be gone, and though the work was hard he found he did", "watch\nand swore. Time was flying, and they should have been on the trail an\nhour gone. Francois scratched his head again. He shook it and grinned\nsheepishly at the courier, who shrugged his shoulders in sign that they\nwere beaten. Then Francois went up to where Sol-leks stood and called\nto Buck. Buck laughed, as dogs laugh, yet kept his distance. Francois\nunfastened Sol-leks's traces and put him back in his old place. The team\nstood harnessed to the sled in an unbroken line", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "he circled back and forth for a chance to spring in. Buck was no less\neager, and no less cautious, as he likewise circled back and forth for\nthe advantage. But it was then that the unexpected happened, the thing\nwhich projected their struggle for supremacy far into the future, past\nmany a weary mile of trail and toil.\n\nAn oath from Perrault, the resounding impact of a club upon a bony\nframe, and a shrill yelp of pain, heralded the breaking forth of\npandemonium.", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and" ], [ "and Francois threw chests up and down the\nmain street of Skaguay and were deluged with invitations to drink, while\nthe team was the constant centre of a worshipful crowd of dog-busters\nand mushers. Then three or four western bad men aspired to clean out\nthe town, were riddled like pepper-boxes for their pains, and public\ninterest turned to other idols. Next came official orders. Francois\ncalled Buck to him, threw his arms around him, wept over him. And that\nwas the last of Francois and Perrault.", "was to be left\nalone; though, as Buck was afterward to learn, each of them possessed\none other and even more vital ambition.\n\nThat night Buck faced the great problem of sleeping. The tent, illumined\nby a candle, glowed warmly in the midst of the white plain; and when he,\nas a matter of course, entered it, both Perrault and Francois bombarded\nhim with curses and cooking utensils, till he recovered from his\nconsternation and fled ignominiously into the outer cold. A chill wind\nwas blowing that nipped him", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", "shoulders\nstood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into\nthe blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he\nlanded on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew\nwhere he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went\nfor a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night\nbefore.\n\nA shout from Francois hailed his appearance. \"Wot I say?\" the dog-driver\ncried to Perrault. \"Dat Buck for sure learn", "in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two\nor three steps. Francois followed him up, whereupon he again retreated.\nAfter some time of this, Francois threw down the club, thinking that\nBuck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to\nescape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He\nhad earned it, and he would not be content with less.\n\nPerrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better\npart of an hour. They threw", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "he circled back and forth for a chance to spring in. Buck was no less\neager, and no less cautious, as he likewise circled back and forth for\nthe advantage. But it was then that the unexpected happened, the thing\nwhich projected their struggle for supremacy far into the future, past\nmany a weary mile of trail and toil.\n\nAn oath from Perrault, the resounding impact of a club upon a bony\nframe, and a shrill yelp of pain, heralded the breaking forth of\npandemonium.", "the Narwhal, it\nwas the last he saw of the warm Southland. Curly and he were taken below\nby Perrault and turned over to a black-faced giant called Francois.\nPerrault was a French-Canadian, and swarthy; but Francois was a\nFrench-Canadian half-breed, and twice as swarthy. They were a new kind\nof men to Buck (of which he was destined to see many more), and while\nhe developed no affection for them, he none the less grew honestly to\nrespect them. He", "buckles. It was a harness, such as he had seen\nthe grooms put on the horses at home. And as he had seen horses work,\nso he was set to work, hauling Francois on a sled to the forest that\nfringed the valley, and returning with a load of firewood. Though his\ndignity was sorely hurt by thus being made a draught animal, he was too\nwise to rebel. He buckled down with a will and did his best, though\nit was all new and strange. Francois was stern, demanding instant\nob", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and", ", ready for the trail.\nThere was no place for Buck save at the front. Once more Francois\ncalled, and once more Buck laughed and kept away.\n\n\"T'row down de club,\" Perrault commanded.\n\nFrancois complied, whereupon Buck trotted in, laughing triumphantly,\nand swung around into position at the head of the team. His traces were\nfastened, the sled broken out, and with both men running they dashed out\non to the river trail.\n\nHighly as the dog-driver had forevalued Buck, with his", "place, and why\nsuch as they should adventure the North is part of the mystery of things\nthat passes understanding.\n\nBuck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the\nGovernment agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and the mail-train\ndrivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault and\nFrancois and the others who had gone before. When driven with his mates\nto the new owners' camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair, tent\nhalf stretched, dishes unwashed", "to stop at \"ho,\" to go ahead at \"mush,\"\nto swing wide on the bends, and to keep clear of the wheeler when the\nloaded sled shot downhill at their heels.\n\n\"T'ree vair' good dogs,\" Francois told Perrault. \"Dat Buck, heem pool\nlak hell. I tich heem queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nBy afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his\ndespatches, returned with two more dogs. \"Billee\" and \"J", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "was a great relief, and\nBuck caused even the weazened face of Perrault to twist itself into a\ngrin one morning, when Francois forgot the moccasins and Buck lay on his\nback, his four feet waving appealingly in the air, and refused to budge\nwithout them. Later his feet grew hard to the trail, and the worn-out\nfoot-gear was thrown away.\n\nAt the Pelly one morning, as they were harnessing up, Dolly, who had\nnever been conspicuous for anything, went suddenly mad. She", "watch\nand swore. Time was flying, and they should have been on the trail an\nhour gone. Francois scratched his head again. He shook it and grinned\nsheepishly at the courier, who shrugged his shoulders in sign that they\nwere beaten. Then Francois went up to where Sol-leks stood and called\nto Buck. Buck laughed, as dogs laugh, yet kept his distance. Francois\nunfastened Sol-leks's traces and put him back in his old place. The team\nstood harnessed to the sled in an unbroken line", "the cliff. Perrault scaled it by a miracle, while Francois\nprayed for just that miracle; and with every thong and sled lashing and\nthe last bit of harness rove into a long rope, the dogs were hoisted,\none by one, to the cliff crest. Francois came up last, after the sled\nand load. Then came the search for a place to descend, which descent was\nultimately made by the aid of the rope, and night found them back on the\nriver with a quarter of a mile to the day's credit", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "ed standing\nover her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to\ntrouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down,\nthat was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went\ndown. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment\nBuck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.\n\nBefore he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing\nof Curly, he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an\narrangement of straps and" ], [ "in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two\nor three steps. Francois followed him up, whereupon he again retreated.\nAfter some time of this, Francois threw down the club, thinking that\nBuck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to\nescape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He\nhad earned it, and he would not be content with less.\n\nPerrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better\npart of an hour. They threw", "shoulders\nstood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into\nthe blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he\nlanded on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew\nwhere he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went\nfor a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night\nbefore.\n\nA shout from Francois hailed his appearance. \"Wot I say?\" the dog-driver\ncried to Perrault. \"Dat Buck for sure learn", "buckles. It was a harness, such as he had seen\nthe grooms put on the horses at home. And as he had seen horses work,\nso he was set to work, hauling Francois on a sled to the forest that\nfringed the valley, and returning with a load of firewood. Though his\ndignity was sorely hurt by thus being made a draught animal, he was too\nwise to rebel. He buckled down with a will and did his best, though\nit was all new and strange. Francois was stern, demanding instant\nob", "and Francois threw chests up and down the\nmain street of Skaguay and were deluged with invitations to drink, while\nthe team was the constant centre of a worshipful crowd of dog-busters\nand mushers. Then three or four western bad men aspired to clean out\nthe town, were riddled like pepper-boxes for their pains, and public\ninterest turned to other idols. Next came official orders. Francois\ncalled Buck to him, threw his arms around him, wept over him. And that\nwas the last of Francois and Perrault.", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "was to be left\nalone; though, as Buck was afterward to learn, each of them possessed\none other and even more vital ambition.\n\nThat night Buck faced the great problem of sleeping. The tent, illumined\nby a candle, glowed warmly in the midst of the white plain; and when he,\nas a matter of course, entered it, both Perrault and Francois bombarded\nhim with curses and cooking utensils, till he recovered from his\nconsternation and fled ignominiously into the outer cold. A chill wind\nwas blowing that nipped him", "ed standing\nover her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to\ntrouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down,\nthat was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went\ndown. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment\nBuck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.\n\nBefore he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing\nof Curly, he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an\narrangement of straps and", "he circled back and forth for a chance to spring in. Buck was no less\neager, and no less cautious, as he likewise circled back and forth for\nthe advantage. But it was then that the unexpected happened, the thing\nwhich projected their struggle for supremacy far into the future, past\nmany a weary mile of trail and toil.\n\nAn oath from Perrault, the resounding impact of a club upon a bony\nframe, and a shrill yelp of pain, heralded the breaking forth of\npandemonium.", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and", ", ready for the trail.\nThere was no place for Buck save at the front. Once more Francois\ncalled, and once more Buck laughed and kept away.\n\n\"T'row down de club,\" Perrault commanded.\n\nFrancois complied, whereupon Buck trotted in, laughing triumphantly,\nand swung around into position at the head of the team. His traces were\nfastened, the sled broken out, and with both men running they dashed out\non to the river trail.\n\nHighly as the dog-driver had forevalued Buck, with his", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", "to stop at \"ho,\" to go ahead at \"mush,\"\nto swing wide on the bends, and to keep clear of the wheeler when the\nloaded sled shot downhill at their heels.\n\n\"T'ree vair' good dogs,\" Francois told Perrault. \"Dat Buck, heem pool\nlak hell. I tich heem queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nBy afternoon, Perrault, who was in a hurry to be on the trail with his\ndespatches, returned with two more dogs. \"Billee\" and \"J", "was a great relief, and\nBuck caused even the weazened face of Perrault to twist itself into a\ngrin one morning, when Francois forgot the moccasins and Buck lay on his\nback, his four feet waving appealingly in the air, and refused to budge\nwithout them. Later his feet grew hard to the trail, and the worn-out\nfoot-gear was thrown away.\n\nAt the Pelly one morning, as they were harnessing up, Dolly, who had\nnever been conspicuous for anything, went suddenly mad. She", "One devil, dat Spitz,\" remarked Perrault. \"Some dam day heem keel dat\nBuck.\"\n\n\"Dat Buck two devils,\" was Francois's rejoinder. \"All de tam I watch dat\nBuck I know for sure. Lissen: some dam fine day heem get mad lak hell\nan' den heem chew dat Spitz all up an' spit heem out on de snow. Sure. I\nknow.\"\n\nFrom then on it was war between them. Spitz, as lead-dog and\nacknowledged master of the", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "watch\nand swore. Time was flying, and they should have been on the trail an\nhour gone. Francois scratched his head again. He shook it and grinned\nsheepishly at the courier, who shrugged his shoulders in sign that they\nwere beaten. Then Francois went up to where Sol-leks stood and called\nto Buck. Buck laughed, as dogs laugh, yet kept his distance. Francois\nunfastened Sol-leks's traces and put him back in his old place. The team\nstood harnessed to the sled in an unbroken line", "back\nwith a heavy club in his hand.\n\nBuck remembered the man in the red sweater, and retreated slowly; nor\ndid he attempt to charge in when Sol-leks was once more brought\nforward. But he circled just beyond the range of the club, snarling with\nbitterness and rage; and while he circled he watched the club so as to\ndodge it if thrown by Francois, for he was become wise in the way of\nclubs. The driver went about his work, and he called to Buck when he was\nready to put him", "the Narwhal, it\nwas the last he saw of the warm Southland. Curly and he were taken below\nby Perrault and turned over to a black-faced giant called Francois.\nPerrault was a French-Canadian, and swarthy; but Francois was a\nFrench-Canadian half-breed, and twice as swarthy. They were a new kind\nof men to Buck (of which he was destined to see many more), and while\nhe developed no affection for them, he none the less grew honestly to\nrespect them. He" ], [ "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "not in\nthe work, nor was the heart of any dog. The Outsides were timid and\nfrightened, the Insides without confidence in their masters.\n\nBuck felt vaguely that there was no depending upon these two men and the\nwoman. They did not know how to do anything, and as the days went by\nit became apparent that they could not learn. They were slack in all\nthings, without order or discipline. It took them half the night to\npitch a slovenly camp, and half the morning to break that camp and get\nthe sled", ".\"\n\nBuck seized Thornton's hand in his teeth. Thornton shook him back and\nforth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back\nto a respectful distance; nor were they again indiscreet enough to\ninterrupt.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII. The Sounding of the Call\n\n\nWhen Buck earned sixteen hundred dollars in five minutes for John\nThornton, he made it possible for his master to pay off certain debts\nand to journey with his partners into the East after a fabled lost mine,\n", "turned\nabout and started slowly on the back track. For the better part of an\nhour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down,\npointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck\nheld steadily on his way he heard it grow faint and fainter until it was\nlost in the distance.\n\nJohn Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang\nupon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him,\nlicking", ", went from\nbad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It\nis a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the\nration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less\nthan die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,\nfollowed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging\nmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.\n\nBy this time all the amenities and gentlenesses", "place, and why\nsuch as they should adventure the North is part of the mystery of things\nthat passes understanding.\n\nBuck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the\nGovernment agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and the mail-train\ndrivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault and\nFrancois and the others who had gone before. When driven with his mates\nto the new owners' camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair, tent\nhalf stretched, dishes unwashed", "not been trained\nby chronic famine to make the most of little, had voracious appetites.\nAnd when, in addition to this, the worn-out huskies pulled weakly, Hal\ndecided that the orthodox ration was too small. He doubled it. And to\ncap it all, when Mercedes, with tears in her pretty eyes and a quaver\nin her throat, could not cajole him into giving the dogs still more, she\nstole from the fish-sacks and fed them slyly. But it was not food that\nBuck and the husk", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "ed standing\nover her and cursing horribly. The scene often came back to Buck to\ntrouble him in his sleep. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down,\nthat was the end of you. Well, he would see to it that he never went\ndown. Spitz ran out his tongue and laughed again, and from that moment\nBuck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.\n\nBefore he had recovered from the shock caused by the tragic passing\nof Curly, he received another shock. Francois fastened upon him an\narrangement of straps and", "oe\" he called\nthem, two brothers, and true huskies both. Sons of the one mother though\nthey were, they were as different as day and night. Billee's one fault\nwas his excessive good nature, while Joe was the very opposite, sour and\nintrospective, with a perpetual snarl and a malignant eye. Buck received\nthem in comradely fashion, Dave ignored them, while Spitz proceeded to\nthrash first one and then the other. Billee wagged his tail appeasingly,\nturned to run", "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", "over, then repeated the trick and\nbroke the right fore leg. Despite the pain and helplessness, Spitz\nstruggled madly to keep up. He saw the silent circle, with gleaming\neyes, lolling tongues, and silvery breaths drifting upward, closing in\nupon him as he had seen similar circles close in upon beaten antagonists\nin the past. Only this time he was the one who was beaten.\n\nThere was no hope for him. Buck was inexorable. Mercy was a thing\nreserved for gentler climes. He man", "was\ntwisted into a savage growl.\n\nBut the saloon-keeper let him alone, and in the morning four men entered\nand picked up the crate. More tormentors, Buck decided, for they were\nevil-looking creatures, ragged and unkempt; and he stormed and raged at\nthem through the bars. They only laughed and poked sticks at him, which\nhe promptly assailed with his teeth till he realized that that was what\nthey wanted. Whereupon he lay down sullenly and allowed the crate to be\nlifted into", "ized on the ground. On the instant a score of the famished\nbrutes were scrambling for the bread and bacon. The clubs fell upon them\nunheeded. They yelped and howled under the rain of blows, but struggled\nnone the less madly till the last crumb had been devoured.\n\nIn the meantime the astonished team-dogs had burst out of their nests\nonly to be set upon by the fierce invaders. Never had Buck seen such\ndogs. It seemed as though their bones would burst through their skins.\nThey were mere", "two devils, he\nfound, while the day was yet young, that he had undervalued. At a bound\nBuck took up the duties of leadership; and where judgment was required,\nand quick thinking and quick acting, he showed himself the superior even\nof Spitz, of whom Francois had never seen an equal.\n\nBut it was in giving the law and making his mates live up to it, that\nBuck excelled. Dave and Sol-leks did not mind the change in leadership.\nIt was none of their business. Their business was to toil, and to", "was now beaten more than the others because he was fresher; and Buck,\nstill at the head of the team, but no longer enforcing discipline or\nstriving to enforce it, blind with weakness half the time and keeping\nthe trail by the loom of it and by the dim feel of his feet.\n\nIt was beautiful spring weather, but neither dogs nor humans were aware\nof it. Each day the sun rose earlier and set later. It was dawn by three\nin the morning, and twilight lingered till nine at night. The whole long\nday was a blaze of sun", "Diego.\nBecause men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal,\nand because steamship and transportation companies were booming the\nfind, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted\ndogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by\nwhich to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.\n\nBuck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge\nMiller's place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden\nam", "The camp was suddenly discovered to be alive with skulking\nfurry forms,--starving huskies, four or five score of them, who had\nscented the camp from some Indian village. They had crept in while Buck\nand Spitz were fighting, and when the two men sprang among them with\nstout clubs they showed their teeth and fought back. They were crazed\nby the smell of the food. Perrault found one with head buried in the\ngrub-box. His club landed heavily on the gaunt ribs, and the grub-box\nwas caps", "ors,\ngreen pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping\nplant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge\nMiller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot\nafternoon.\n\nAnd over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he\nhad lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other\ndogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did\nnot count. They came and went, resided in the", "and lingering in\nthe frosty air. They had made short work of the snowshoe rabbit, these\ndogs that were ill-tamed wolves; and they were now drawn up in an\nexpectant circle. They, too, were silent, their eyes only gleaming and\ntheir breaths drifting slowly upward. To Buck it was nothing new or\nstrange, this scene of old time. It was as though it had always been,\nthe wonted way of things.\n\nSpitz was a practised fighter. From Spitzbergen through the Arctic, and" ], [ ", and evinced no intention of getting\nout of the way. Hal drew his long hunting-knife. Mercedes screamed,\ncried, laughed, and manifested the chaotic abandonment of hysteria.\nThornton rapped Hal's knuckles with the axe-handle, knocking the knife\nto the ground. He rapped his knuckles again as he tried to pick it up.\nThen he stooped, picked it up himself, and with two strokes cut Buck's\ntraces.\n\nHal had no fight left in him. Besides,", "watched them, Thornton knelt beside him and with rough, kindly\nhands searched for broken bones. By the time his search had disclosed\nnothing more than many bruises and a state of terrible starvation, the\nsled was a quarter of a mile away. Dog and man watched it crawling along\nover the ice. Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut,\nand the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it, jerk into the air. Mercedes's\nscream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn and make", "his hands were full with his\nsister, or his arms, rather; while Buck was too near dead to be of\nfurther use in hauling the sled. A few minutes later they pulled out\nfrom the bank and down the river. Buck heard them go and raised his head\nto see, Pike was leading, Sol-leks was at the wheel, and between were\nJoe and Teek. They were limping and staggering. Mercedes was riding the\nloaded sled. Hal guided at the gee-pole, and Charles stumbled along in\nthe rear.\n\nAs Buck", ", everything in disorder; also, he saw a\nwoman. \"Mercedes\" the men called her. She was Charles's wife and Hal's\nsister--a nice family party.\n\nBuck watched them apprehensively as they proceeded to take down the tent\nand load the sled. There was a great deal of effort about their manner,\nbut no businesslike method. The tent was rolled into an awkward bundle\nthree times as large as it should have been. The tin dishes were packed\naway unwashed. Mercedes continually fluttered in the way of her men and\nke", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "and Charles's eyes wistfully watering, they staggered into\nJohn Thornton's camp at the mouth of White River. When they halted,\nthe dogs dropped down as though they had all been struck dead. Mercedes\ndried her eyes and looked at John Thornton. Charles sat down on a log\nto rest. He sat down very slowly and painstakingly what of his great\nstiffness. Hal did the talking. John Thornton was whittling the last\ntouches on an axe-handle he had made from a stick of birch.", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "stood still, panting. The whip was\nwhistling savagely, when once more Mercedes interfered. She dropped on\nher knees before Buck, with tears in her eyes, and put her arms around\nhis neck.\n\n\"You poor, poor dears,\" she cried sympathetically, \"why don't you pull\nhard?--then you wouldn't be whipped.\" Buck did not like her, but he\nwas feeling too miserable to resist her, taking it as part of the day's\nmiserable work.\n\nOne of the onlookers,", "being beaten. The last sensations of pain left him. He\nno longer felt anything, though very faintly he could hear the impact of\nthe club upon his body. But it was no longer his body, it seemed so far\naway.\n\nAnd then, suddenly, without warning, uttering a cry that was\ninarticulate and more like the cry of an animal, John Thornton sprang\nupon the man who wielded the club. Hal was hurled backward, as\nthough struck by a falling tree. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked on\nwistfully, wiped his water", "y eyes, but did not get up because of his\nstiffness.\n\nJohn Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, too\nconvulsed with rage to speak.\n\n\"If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you,\" he at last managed to say\nin a choking voice.\n\n\"It's my dog,\" Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as he came\nback. \"Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson.\"\n\nThornton stood between him and Buck", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "to the snow. The\noverloaded and unwieldy sled forged ahead, Buck and his mates struggling\nfrantically under the rain of blows. A hundred yards ahead the path\nturned and sloped steeply into the main street. It would have required\nan experienced man to keep the top-heavy sled upright, and Hal was not\nsuch a man. As they swung on the turn the sled went over, spilling\nhalf its load through the loose lashings. The dogs never stopped. The\nlightened sled bounded on its side behind them. They were angry", "feet. Pike,\nwho had been trembling abjectly, took heart at this open mutiny,\nand sprang upon his overthrown leader. Buck, to whom fair play was a\nforgotten code, likewise sprang upon Spitz. But Francois, chuckling at\nthe incident while unswerving in the administration of justice, brought\nhis lash down upon Buck with all his might. This failed to drive Buck\nfrom his prostrate rival, and the butt of the whip was brought into\nplay. Half-stunned by the blow, Buck was knocked backward and", "\nbecause she was sore and tired, she persisted in riding on the sled. She\nwas pretty and soft, but she weighed one hundred and twenty pounds--a\nlusty last straw to the load dragged by the weak and starving animals.\nShe rode for days, till they fell in the traces and the sled stood\nstill. Charles and Hal begged her to get off and walk, pleaded with her,\nentreated, the while she wept and importuned Heaven with a recital of\ntheir brutality.\n\nOn one occasion they took her off the s", "not been trained\nby chronic famine to make the most of little, had voracious appetites.\nAnd when, in addition to this, the worn-out huskies pulled weakly, Hal\ndecided that the orthodox ration was too small. He doubled it. And to\ncap it all, when Mercedes, with tears in her pretty eyes and a quaver\nin her throat, could not cajole him into giving the dogs still more, she\nstole from the fish-sacks and fed them slyly. But it was not food that\nBuck and the husk", "bound it down. It ate away\nfrom beneath; the sun ate from above. Air-holes formed, fissures sprang\nand spread apart, while thin sections of ice fell through bodily into\nthe river. And amid all this bursting, rending, throbbing of awakening\nlife, under the blazing sun and through the soft-sighing breezes, like\nwayfarers to death, staggered the two men, the woman, and the huskies.\n\nWith the dogs falling, Mercedes weeping and riding, Hal swearing\ninnocuously,", "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", "them with the whip.\n\nBut Mercedes interfered, crying, \"Oh, Hal, you mustn't,\" as she caught\nhold of the whip and wrenched it from him. \"The poor dears! Now you\nmust promise you won't be harsh with them for the rest of the trip, or I\nwon't go a step.\"\n\n\"Precious lot you know about dogs,\" her brother sneered; \"and I wish\nyou'd leave me alone. They're lazy, I tell you, and you've got to whip\n", ", went from\nbad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It\nis a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the\nration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less\nthan die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,\nfollowed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging\nmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.\n\nBy this time all the amenities and gentlenesses" ], [ ", his\nmuscles swelled out, and the flesh came back to cover his bones. For\nthat matter, they were all loafing,--Buck, John Thornton, and Skeet\nand Nig,--waiting for the raft to come that was to carry them down to\nDawson. Skeet was a little Irish setter who early made friends with\nBuck, who, in a dying condition, was unable to resent her first\nadvances. She had the doctor trait which some dogs possess; and as a\nmother cat washes her kittens,", "turned\nabout and started slowly on the back track. For the better part of an\nhour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down,\npointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck\nheld steadily on his way he heard it grow faint and fainter until it was\nlost in the distance.\n\nJohn Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang\nupon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him,\nlicking", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", "it. And he saw\nfurther. He never forgot a kindly greeting or a cheering word, and to\nsit down for a long talk with them (\"gas\" he called it) was as much his\ndelight as theirs. He had a way of taking Buck's head roughly between\nhis hands, and resting his own head upon Buck's, of shaking him back\nand forth, the while calling him ill names that to Buck were love\nnames. Buck knew no greater joy than that rough embrace and the sound of\nmurmured oaths, and at each jerk back and", "\nin which they lived, the strength of Buck's gaze would draw John\nThornton's head around, and he would return the gaze, without speech,\nhis heart shining out of his eyes as Buck's heart shone out.\n\nFor a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out\nof his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it\nagain, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he\nhad come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could\nbe permanent.", "so she washed and cleansed Buck's\nwounds. Regularly, each morning after he had finished his breakfast,\nshe performed her self-appointed task, till he came to look for her\nministrations as much as he did for Thornton's. Nig, equally friendly,\nthough less demonstrative, was a huge black dog, half bloodhound and\nhalf deerhound, with eyes that laughed and a boundless good nature.\n\nTo Buck's surprise these dogs manifested no jealousy toward him. They\nseemed to share the kindliness and largeness", "on themselves\nup the river to get out a raft of saw-logs for Dawson. He was still\nlimping slightly at the time he rescued Buck, but with the continued\nwarm weather even the slight limp left him. And here, lying by the river\nbank through the long spring days, watching the running water, listening\nlazily to the songs of birds and the hum of nature, Buck slowly won back\nhis strength.\n\nA rest comes very good after one has travelled three thousand miles,\nand it must be confessed that Buck waxed lazy as his wounds healed", "one step to\nrun back, and then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans\ndisappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had\ndropped out of the trail.\n\nJohn Thornton and Buck looked at each other.\n\n\"You poor devil,\" said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI. For the Love of a Man\n\n\nWhen John Thornton froze his feet in the previous December his partners\nhad made him comfortable and left him to get well, going", "had softened during the many generations since the day his last\nwild ancestor was tamed by a cave-dweller or river man. All day long he\nlimped in agony, and camp once made, lay down like a dead dog. Hungry as\nhe was, he would not move to receive his ration of fish, which Francois\nhad to bring to him. Also, the dog-driver rubbed Buck's feet for half\nan hour each night after supper, and sacrificed the tops of his own\nmoccasins to make four moccasins for Buck. This", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "one's face the while he meditated some\nunderhand trick, as, for instance, when he stole from Buck's food at the\nfirst meal. As Buck sprang to punish him, the lash of Francois's whip\nsang through the air, reaching the culprit first; and nothing remained\nto Buck but to recover the bone. That was fair of Francois, he decided,\nand the half-breed began his rise in Buck's estimation.\n\nThe other dog made no advances, nor received any; also, he did not\nattempt to steal from", "and though Buck's hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand,\nhe endured it without protest. When the man brought him water he drank\neagerly, and later bolted a generous meal of raw meat, chunk by chunk,\nfrom the man's hand.\n\nHe was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for\nall, that he stood no chance against a man with a club. He had learned\nthe lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was\na revelation. It was his introduction", "his face, biting his hand--\"playing the general tom-fool,\" as\nJohn Thornton characterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth\nand cursed him lovingly.\n\nFor two days and nights Buck never left camp, never let Thornton out of\nhis sight. He followed him about at his work, watched him while he ate,\nsaw him into his blankets at night and out of them in the morning. But\nafter two days the call in the forest began to sound more imperiously\nthan ever. Buck's restlessness came back on him,", "that the\nflesh bore the impress of his teeth for some time afterward. And as\nBuck understood the oaths to be love words, so the man understood this\nfeigned bite for a caress.\n\nFor the most part, however, Buck's love was expressed in adoration.\nWhile he went wild with happiness when Thornton touched him or spoke to\nhim, he did not seek these tokens. Unlike Skeet, who was wont to shove\nher nose under Thornton's hand and nudge and nudge till petted, or Nig,\n", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "rock Buck made his nest. So snug and warm\nwas it, that he was loath to leave it when Francois distributed the\nfish which he had first thawed over the fire. But when Buck finished his\nration and returned, he found his nest occupied. A warning snarl told\nhim that the trespasser was Spitz. Till now Buck had avoided trouble\nwith his enemy, but this was too much. The beast in him roared. He\nsprang upon Spitz with a fury which surprised them both, and Spitz\nparticularly, for his whole experience", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "not know that he\ngrowled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last\ntime in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it\nwas because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head.\n\nThe Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge\nwhen they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal\nthe like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live\nhurricane of fury, hurling himself upon", "\nstirred to the realities of which they were the shadows. He had done\nthis thing before, somewhere in that other and dimly remembered world,\nand he was doing it again, now, running free in the open, the unpacked\nearth underfoot, the wide sky overhead.\n\nThey stopped by a running stream to drink, and, stopping, Buck\nremembered John Thornton. He sat down. The wolf started on toward the\nplace from where the call surely came, then returned to him, sniffing\nnoses and making actions as though to encourage him. But Buck", "\nan instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape\ndetection.\n\nHis face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he\nfought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too\ngood-natured for quarrelling,--besides, they belonged to John Thornton;\nbut the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly\nacknowledged Buck's supremacy or found himself struggling for life with\na terrible antagonist. And Buck was" ], [ "ors,\ngreen pastures, orchards, and berry patches. Then there was the pumping\nplant for the artesian well, and the big cement tank where Judge\nMiller's boys took their morning plunge and kept cool in the hot\nafternoon.\n\nAnd over this great demesne Buck ruled. Here he was born, and here he\nhad lived the four years of his life. It was true, there were other\ndogs, There could not but be other dogs on so vast a place, but they did\nnot count. They came and went, resided in the", "ops.\n\nBut Buck was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The whole realm was his.\nHe plunged into the swimming tank or went hunting with the Judge's sons;\nhe escorted Mollie and Alice, the Judge's daughters, on long twilight\nor early morning rambles; on wintry nights he lay at the Judge's feet\nbefore the roaring library fire; he carried the Judge's grandsons on his\nback, or rolled them in the grass, and guarded their footsteps through\nwild adventures down to the f", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "so she washed and cleansed Buck's\nwounds. Regularly, each morning after he had finished his breakfast,\nshe performed her self-appointed task, till he came to look for her\nministrations as much as he did for Thornton's. Nig, equally friendly,\nthough less demonstrative, was a huge black dog, half bloodhound and\nhalf deerhound, with eyes that laughed and a boundless good nature.\n\nTo Buck's surprise these dogs manifested no jealousy toward him. They\nseemed to share the kindliness and largeness", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "and though Buck's hair involuntarily bristled at touch of the hand,\nhe endured it without protest. When the man brought him water he drank\neagerly, and later bolted a generous meal of raw meat, chunk by chunk,\nfrom the man's hand.\n\nHe was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken. He saw, once for\nall, that he stood no chance against a man with a club. He had learned\nthe lesson, and in all his after life he never forgot it. That club was\na revelation. It was his introduction", ".\"\n\nBuck seized Thornton's hand in his teeth. Thornton shook him back and\nforth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back\nto a respectful distance; nor were they again indiscreet enough to\ninterrupt.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII. The Sounding of the Call\n\n\nWhen Buck earned sixteen hundred dollars in five minutes for John\nThornton, he made it possible for his master to pay off certain debts\nand to journey with his partners into the East after a fabled lost mine,\n", "it. And he saw\nfurther. He never forgot a kindly greeting or a cheering word, and to\nsit down for a long talk with them (\"gas\" he called it) was as much his\ndelight as theirs. He had a way of taking Buck's head roughly between\nhis hands, and resting his own head upon Buck's, of shaking him back\nand forth, the while calling him ill names that to Buck were love\nnames. Buck knew no greater joy than that rough embrace and the sound of\nmurmured oaths, and at each jerk back and", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "forth it seemed that his heart\nwould be shaken out of his body so great was its ecstasy. And when,\nreleased, he sprang to his feet, his mouth laughing, his eyes eloquent,\nhis throat vibrant with unuttered sound, and in that fashion remained\nwithout movement, John Thornton would reverently exclaim, \"God! you can\nall but speak!\"\n\nBuck had a trick of love expression that was akin to hurt. He would\noften seize Thornton's hand in his mouth and close so fiercely", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "\nan instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape\ndetection.\n\nHis face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he\nfought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too\ngood-natured for quarrelling,--besides, they belonged to John Thornton;\nbut the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly\nacknowledged Buck's supremacy or found himself struggling for life with\na terrible antagonist. And Buck was", "ountain in the stable yard, and even\nbeyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the\nterriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly\nignored, for he was king,--king over all creeping, crawling, flying\nthings of Judge Miller's place, humans included.\n\nHis father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge's inseparable\ncompanion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was\nnot so large,", "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr" ], [ "aring down the throats of the others. To\nremedy this, he ate as fast as they; and, so greatly did hunger compel\nhim, he was not above taking what did not belong to him. He watched and\nlearned. When he saw Pike, one of the new dogs, a clever malingerer and\nthief, slyly steal a slice of bacon when Perrault's back was turned,\nhe duplicated the performance the following day, getting away with the\nwhole chunk. A great uproar was raised, but he was unsuspected; while", "one's face the while he meditated some\nunderhand trick, as, for instance, when he stole from Buck's food at the\nfirst meal. As Buck sprang to punish him, the lash of Francois's whip\nsang through the air, reaching the culprit first; and nothing remained\nto Buck but to recover the bone. That was fair of Francois, he decided,\nand the half-breed began his rise in Buck's estimation.\n\nThe other dog made no advances, nor received any; also, he did not\nattempt to steal from", "competence. It was a\nsimple matter to give the dogs less food; but it was impossible to\nmake the dogs travel faster, while their own inability to get under way\nearlier in the morning prevented them from travelling longer hours. Not\nonly did they not know how to work dogs, but they did not know how to\nwork themselves.\n\nThe first to go was Dub. Poor blundering thief that he was, always\ngetting caught and punished, he had none the less been a faithful\nworker. His wrenched shoulder-blade, untreated and unrested", "would return and see how his own\nteam-mates were making out. To his astonishment, they had disappeared.\nAgain he wandered about through the great camp, looking for them, and\nagain he returned. Were they in the tent? No, that could not be, else he\nwould not have been driven out. Then where could they possibly be? With\ndrooping tail and shivering body, very forlorn indeed, he aimlessly\ncircled the tent. Suddenly the snow gave way beneath his fore legs\nand he sank down. Something wriggled under his feet. He spr", "\nan instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape\ndetection.\n\nHis face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he\nfought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too\ngood-natured for quarrelling,--besides, they belonged to John Thornton;\nbut the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly\nacknowledged Buck's supremacy or found himself struggling for life with\na terrible antagonist. And Buck was", "or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out\nof the depths of Time, he obeyed.\n\nHe was older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn. He\nlinked the past with the present, and the eternity behind him throbbed\nthrough him in a mighty rhythm to which he swayed as the tides and\nseasons swayed. He sat by John Thornton's fire, a broad-breasted dog,\nwhite-fanged and long-furred; but behind him were the shades of all\nmann", "with Buck had gone to teach him\nthat his rival was an unusually timid dog, who managed to hold his own\nonly because of his great weight and size.\n\nFrancois was surprised, too, when they shot out in a tangle from the\ndisrupted nest and he divined the cause of the trouble. \"A-a-ah!\"\nhe cried to Buck. \"Gif it to heem, by Gar! Gif it to heem, the dirty\nt'eef!\"\n\nSpitz was equally willing. He was crying with sheer rage and eagerness\nas", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "not been trained\nby chronic famine to make the most of little, had voracious appetites.\nAnd when, in addition to this, the worn-out huskies pulled weakly, Hal\ndecided that the orthodox ration was too small. He doubled it. And to\ncap it all, when Mercedes, with tears in her pretty eyes and a quaver\nin her throat, could not cajole him into giving the dogs still more, she\nstole from the fish-sacks and fed them slyly. But it was not food that\nBuck and the husk", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "shoulders\nstood on end, and with a ferocious snarl he bounded straight up into\nthe blinding day, the snow flying about him in a flashing cloud. Ere he\nlanded on his feet, he saw the white camp spread out before him and knew\nwhere he was and remembered all that had passed from the time he went\nfor a stroll with Manuel to the hole he had dug for himself the night\nbefore.\n\nA shout from Francois hailed his appearance. \"Wot I say?\" the dog-driver\ncried to Perrault. \"Dat Buck for sure learn", "and every moment life and limb were in peril.\nThere was imperative need to be constantly alert; for these dogs and men\nwere not town dogs and men. They were savages, all of them, who knew no\nlaw but the law of club and fang.\n\nHe had never seen dogs fight as these wolfish creatures fought, and his\nfirst experience taught him an unforgetable lesson. It is true, it was\na vicarious experience, else he would not have lived to profit by it.\nCurly was the victim. They were camped near the log store,", "him; but to\ncover his own discomfiture he turned upon the inoffensive and wailing\nBillee and drove him to the confines of the camp.\n\nBy evening Perrault secured another dog, an old husky, long and lean\nand gaunt, with a battle-scarred face and a single eye which flashed a\nwarning of prowess that commanded respect. He was called Sol-leks, which\nmeans the Angry One. Like Dave, he asked nothing, gave nothing, expected\nnothing; and when he marched slowly and deliberately into their midst", "all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such\ntimes that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of\nthe dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never\ncame back; but the fear of the future was strong upon him, and he was\nglad each time when he was not selected.\n\nYet his time came, in the end, in the form of a little weazened man who\nspat broken English and many strange and uncouth exclamations which Buck\ncould not understand.\n\n\"Sacred", "Yukon well on their way to Pelly.\nBut such splendid running was achieved not without great trouble and\nvexation on the part of Francois. The insidious revolt led by Buck\nhad destroyed the solidarity of the team. It no longer was as one dog\nleaping in the traces. The encouragement Buck gave the rebels led them\ninto all kinds of petty misdemeanors. No more was Spitz a leader greatly\nto be feared. The old awe departed, and they grew equal to challenging\nhis authority. Pike robbed him", "swung out on the trail with remarkable lack of\nexertion, turned their heads uneasily, and stopped in surprise. The\ndriver was surprised, too; the sled had not moved. He called his\ncomrades to witness the sight. Dave had bitten through both of\nSol-leks's traces, and was standing directly in front of the sled in his\nproper place.\n\nHe pleaded with his eyes to remain there. The driver was perplexed. His\ncomrades talked of how a dog could break its heart through being denied\nthe work that killed", "of a Ghost Dog that runs at the head of the pack. They are afraid of\nthis Ghost Dog, for it has cunning greater than they, stealing from\ntheir camps in fierce winters, robbing their traps, slaying their dogs,\nand defying their bravest hunters.\n\nNay, the tale grows worse. Hunters there are who fail to return to\nthe camp, and hunters there have been whom their tribesmen found with\nthroats slashed cruelly open and with wolf prints about them in the snow\ngreater than the prints of any wolf", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "\nwhich the Northland had aroused in him, remained alive and active.\nFaithfulness and devotion, things born of fire and roof, were his; yet\nhe retained his wildness and wiliness. He was a thing of the wild, come\nin from the wild to sit by John Thornton's fire, rather than a dog\nof the soft Southland stamped with the marks of generations of\ncivilization. Because of his very great love, he could not steal from\nthis man, but from any other man, in any other camp, he did not hesitate", "!\" in pain and sorrow at the oath.\n\nBut she was a clannish creature, and rushed at once to the defence of\nher brother. \"Never mind that man,\" she said pointedly. \"You're driving\nour dogs, and you do what you think best with them.\"\n\nAgain Hal's whip fell upon the dogs. They threw themselves against the\nbreast-bands, dug their feet into the packed snow, got down low to it,\nand put forth all their strength. The sled held as though it were an\nanchor. After two efforts, they" ], [ ". The whips snapped, the bells\ntinkled merrily, the sleds churned along the trail; but Buck knew, and\nevery dog knew, what had taken place behind the belt of river trees.\n\n\n\n\nChapter V. The Toil of Trace and Trail\n\n\nThirty days from the time it left Dawson, the Salt Water Mail, with Buck\nand his mates at the fore, arrived at Skaguay. They were in a wretched\nstate, worn out and worn down. Buck's one hundred and forty pounds\nhad dw", "Diego.\nBecause men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal,\nand because steamship and transportation companies were booming the\nfind, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted\ndogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by\nwhich to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.\n\nBuck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge\nMiller's place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden\nam", ", ready for the trail.\nThere was no place for Buck save at the front. Once more Francois\ncalled, and once more Buck laughed and kept away.\n\n\"T'row down de club,\" Perrault commanded.\n\nFrancois complied, whereupon Buck trotted in, laughing triumphantly,\nand swung around into position at the head of the team. His traces were\nfastened, the sled broken out, and with both men running they dashed out\non to the river trail.\n\nHighly as the dog-driver had forevalued Buck, with his", "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", "to the snow. The\noverloaded and unwieldy sled forged ahead, Buck and his mates struggling\nfrantically under the rain of blows. A hundred yards ahead the path\nturned and sloped steeply into the main street. It would have required\nan experienced man to keep the top-heavy sled upright, and Hal was not\nsuch a man. As they swung on the turn the sled went over, spilling\nhalf its load through the loose lashings. The dogs never stopped. The\nlightened sled bounded on its side behind them. They were angry", "He called\nHans and Pete to him. Their sacks were slim, and with his own the three\npartners could rake together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of\ntheir fortunes, this sum was their total capital; yet they laid it\nunhesitatingly against Matthewson's six hundred.\n\nThe team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was\nput into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and\nhe felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton.", "all that they lived for and\nthe only thing in which they took delight.\n\nDave was wheeler or sled dog, pulling in front of him was Buck, then\ncame Sol-leks; the rest of the team was strung out ahead, single file,\nto the leader, which position was filled by Spitz.\n\nBuck had been purposely placed between Dave and Sol-leks so that he\nmight receive instruction. Apt scholar that he was, they were equally\napt teachers, never allowing him to linger long in error, and enforcing\nthe", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", "present itself, and they pulled into Dawson\none dreary afternoon with the great fight still to come. Here were many\nmen, and countless dogs, and Buck found them all at work. It seemed the\nordained order of things that dogs should work. All day they swung up\nand down the main street in long teams, and in the night their jingling\nbells still went by. They hauled cabin logs and firewood, freighted up\nto the mines, and did all manner of work that horses did in the Santa\nClara Valley. Here and there Buck met Southland dogs,", "batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take the places of those\nworthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and,\nsince dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.\n\nThree days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really\ntired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two\nmen from the States came along and bought them, harness and all, for a\nsong. The men addressed each other as \"Hal\" and \"Charles.\" Charles was\na middle-aged,", "queek as anyt'ing.\"\n\nPerrault nodded gravely. As courier for the Canadian Government, bearing\nimportant despatches, he was anxious to secure the best dogs, and he was\nparticularly gladdened by the possession of Buck.\n\nThree more huskies were added to the team inside an hour, making a total\nof nine, and before another quarter of an hour had passed they were in\nharness and swinging up the trail toward the Dyea Canon. Buck was\nglad to be gone, and though the work was hard he found he did", "one that put his name many notches higher on the totem-pole\nof Alaskan fame. This exploit was particularly gratifying to the three\nmen; for they stood in need of the outfit which it furnished, and were\nenabled to make a long-desired trip into the virgin East, where miners\nhad not yet appeared. It was brought about by a conversation in the\nEldorado Saloon, in which men waxed boastful of their favorite dogs.\nBuck, because of his record, was the target for these men, and Thornton\nwas", "with wounds. He drew him to the fire and by its light pointed\nthem out.\n\n\"Dat Spitz fight lak hell,\" said Perrault, as he surveyed the gaping\nrips and cuts.\n\n\"An' dat Buck fight lak two hells,\" was Francois's answer. \"An' now we\nmake good time. No more Spitz, no more trouble, sure.\"\n\nWhile Perrault packed the camp outfit and loaded the sled, the\ndog-driver proceeded to harness the dogs. Buck trotted up to the place\n", ", on this great journey into the East, straight meat was the\nbill of fare, ammunition and tools principally made up the load on the\nsled, and the time-card was drawn upon the limitless future.\n\nTo Buck it was boundless delight, this hunting, fishing, and indefinite\nwandering through strange places. For weeks at a time they would hold\non steadily, day after day; and for weeks upon end they would camp, here\nand there, the dogs loafing and the men burning holes through frozen\nmuck and gravel and washing countless", "after supper, Dub turned up a\nsnowshoe rabbit, blundered it, and missed. In a second the whole team\nwas in full cry. A hundred yards away was a camp of the Northwest\nPolice, with fifty dogs, huskies all, who joined the chase. The rabbit\nsped down the river, turned off into a small creek, up the frozen bed of\nwhich it held steadily. It ran lightly on the surface of the snow, while\nthe dogs ploughed through by main strength. Buck led the pack, sixty\nstrong, around", "Like other men, they passed out\nof Buck's life for good.\n\nA Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company\nwith a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to\nDawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil\neach day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train,\ncarrying word from the world to the men who sought gold under the shadow\nof the Pole.\n\nBuck did not like it, but he bore up well", "because\nof the ill treatment they had received and the unjust load. Buck was\nraging. He broke into a run, the team following his lead. Hal cried\n\"Whoa! whoa!\" but they gave no heed. He tripped and was pulled off his\nfeet. The capsized sled ground over him, and the dogs dashed on up the\nstreet, adding to the gayety of Skaguay as they scattered the remainder\nof the outfit along its chief thoroughfare.\n\nKind-hearted citizens caught the dogs and gathered up the scattered\nbelongings. Also,", "thrash the sled-dogs who blundered\nand shirked in the traces or hid away at harness-up time in the morning.\nLikewise it was this pride that made him fear Buck as a possible\nlead-dog. And this was Buck's pride, too.\n\nHe openly threatened the other's leadership. He came between him and the\nshirks he should have punished. And he did it deliberately. One night\nthere was a heavy snowfall, and in the morning Pike, the malingerer,\ndid not appear. He was securely", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n" ], [ "two devils, he\nfound, while the day was yet young, that he had undervalued. At a bound\nBuck took up the duties of leadership; and where judgment was required,\nand quick thinking and quick acting, he showed himself the superior even\nof Spitz, of whom Francois had never seen an equal.\n\nBut it was in giving the law and making his mates live up to it, that\nBuck excelled. Dave and Sol-leks did not mind the change in leadership.\nIt was none of their business. Their business was to toil, and to", "Spitz would have occupied as leader; but Francois, not noticing him,\nbrought Sol-leks to the coveted position. In his judgment, Sol-leks was\nthe best lead-dog left. Buck sprang upon Sol-leks in a fury, driving him\nback and standing in his place.\n\n\"Eh? eh?\" Francois cried, slapping his thighs gleefully. \"Look at dat\nBuck. Heem keel dat Spitz, heem t'ink to take de job.\"\n\n\"Go 'way, Chook!\"", "in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two\nor three steps. Francois followed him up, whereupon he again retreated.\nAfter some time of this, Francois threw down the club, thinking that\nBuck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to\nescape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He\nhad earned it, and he would not be content with less.\n\nPerrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better\npart of an hour. They threw", "red sweater had knocked all blind pluck and rashness out\nof his desire for mastery. He was preeminently cunning, and could bide\nhis time with a patience that was nothing less than primitive.\n\nIt was inevitable that the clash for leadership should come. Buck wanted\nit. He wanted it because it was his nature, because he had been\ngripped tight by that nameless, incomprehensible pride of the trail and\ntrace--that pride which holds dogs in the toil to the last gasp, which\nlures them to die joyfully in", "over, then repeated the trick and\nbroke the right fore leg. Despite the pain and helplessness, Spitz\nstruggled madly to keep up. He saw the silent circle, with gleaming\neyes, lolling tongues, and silvery breaths drifting upward, closing in\nupon him as he had seen similar circles close in upon beaten antagonists\nin the past. Only this time he was the one who was beaten.\n\nThere was no hope for him. Buck was inexorable. Mercy was a thing\nreserved for gentler climes. He man", "preliminary of a snarl, but sniffed noses with him,\nWhereupon the old wolf sat down, pointed nose at the moon, and broke\nout the long wolf howl. The others sat down and howled. And now the call\ncame to Buck in unmistakable accents. He, too, sat down and howled. This\nover, he came out of his angle and the pack crowded around him, sniffing\nin half-friendly, half-savage manner. The leaders lifted the yelp of the\npack and sprang away into the woods. The", "s valley. Into the clearing\nwhere the moonlight streamed, they poured in a silvery flood; and in the\ncentre of the clearing stood Buck, motionless as a statue, waiting their\ncoming. They were awed, so still and large he stood, and a moment's\npause fell, till the boldest one leaped straight for him. Like a flash\nBuck struck, breaking the neck. Then he stood, without movement, as\nbefore, the stricken wolf rolling in agony behind him. Three others\ntried it in sharp succession; and one after the other they", "\nan instant; while the cunning with which he stole enabled him to escape\ndetection.\n\nHis face and body were scored by the teeth of many dogs, and he\nfought as fiercely as ever and more shrewdly. Skeet and Nig were too\ngood-natured for quarrelling,--besides, they belonged to John Thornton;\nbut the strange dog, no matter what the breed or valor, swiftly\nacknowledged Buck's supremacy or found himself struggling for life with\na terrible antagonist. And Buck was", "thrash the sled-dogs who blundered\nand shirked in the traces or hid away at harness-up time in the morning.\nLikewise it was this pride that made him fear Buck as a possible\nlead-dog. And this was Buck's pride, too.\n\nHe openly threatened the other's leadership. He came between him and the\nshirks he should have punished. And he did it deliberately. One night\nthere was a heavy snowfall, and in the morning Pike, the malingerer,\ndid not appear. He was securely", "was compelled to do, was swiftly\nand repeatedly shaken for loafing; and ere the first day was done he was\npulling more than ever before in his life. The first night in camp,\nJoe, the sour one, was punished roundly--a thing that Spitz had never\nsucceeded in doing. Buck simply smothered him by virtue of superior\nweight, and cut him up till he ceased snapping and began to whine for\nmercy.\n\nThe general tone of the team picked up immediately. It recovered its\nold-time solidarity", "one's face the while he meditated some\nunderhand trick, as, for instance, when he stole from Buck's food at the\nfirst meal. As Buck sprang to punish him, the lash of Francois's whip\nsang through the air, reaching the culprit first; and nothing remained\nto Buck but to recover the bone. That was fair of Francois, he decided,\nand the half-breed began his rise in Buck's estimation.\n\nThe other dog made no advances, nor received any; also, he did not\nattempt to steal from", ", camp was made.\nSome pitched the flies, others cut firewood and pine boughs for the\nbeds, and still others carried water or ice for the cooks. Also, the\ndogs were fed. To them, this was the one feature of the day, though it\nwas good to loaf around, after the fish was eaten, for an hour or so\nwith the other dogs, of which there were fivescore and odd. There were\nfierce fighters among them, but three battles with the fiercest brought\nBuck to mastery, so that when he br", "whole circle of sixty dogs started\nup; but he recovered himself, almost in mid air, and the circle sank\ndown again and waited.\n\nBut Buck possessed a quality that made for greatness--imagination. He\nfought by instinct, but he could fight by head as well. He rushed, as\nthough attempting the old shoulder trick, but at the last instant swept\nlow to the snow and in. His teeth closed on Spitz's left fore leg. There\nwas a crunch of breaking bone, and the white dog faced him on three\nlegs. Thrice he tried to knock him", "edience, and by virtue of his whip receiving instant obedience;\nwhile Dave, who was an experienced wheeler, nipped Buck's hind quarters\nwhenever he was in error. Spitz was the leader, likewise experienced,\nand while he could not always get at Buck, he growled sharp reproof now\nand again, or cunningly threw his weight in the traces to jerk Buck\ninto the way he should go. Buck learned easily, and under the combined\ntuition of his two mates and Francois made remarkable progress. Ere they\nreturned to camp he knew enough", "rock Buck made his nest. So snug and warm\nwas it, that he was loath to leave it when Francois distributed the\nfish which he had first thawed over the fire. But when Buck finished his\nration and returned, he found his nest occupied. A warning snarl told\nhim that the trespasser was Spitz. Till now Buck had avoided trouble\nwith his enemy, but this was too much. The beast in him roared. He\nsprang upon Spitz with a fury which surprised them both, and Spitz\nparticularly, for his whole experience", "drew back,\nstreaming blood from slashed throats or shoulders.\n\nThis was sufficient to fling the whole pack forward, pell-mell, crowded\ntogether, blocked and confused by its eagerness to pull down the\nprey. Buck's marvellous quickness and agility stood him in good stead.\nPivoting on his hind legs, and snapping and gashing, he was everywhere\nat once, presenting a front which was apparently unbroken so swiftly did\nhe whirl and guard from side to side. But to prevent them from getting\nbe", ",\neven Spitz left him alone. He had one peculiarity which Buck was unlucky\nenough to discover. He did not like to be approached on his blind side.\nOf this offence Buck was unwittingly guilty, and the first knowledge he\nhad of his indiscretion was when Sol-leks whirled upon him and slashed\nhis shoulder to the bone for three inches up and down. Forever after\nBuck avoided his blind side, and to the last of their comradeship had\nno more trouble. His only apparent ambition, like Dave's,", "he cried, but Buck refused to budge.\n\nHe took Buck by the scruff of the neck, and though the dog growled\nthreateningly, dragged him to one side and replaced Sol-leks. The old\ndog did not like it, and showed plainly that he was afraid of Buck.\nFrancois was obdurate, but when he turned his back Buck again displaced\nSol-leks, who was not at all unwilling to go.\n\nFrancois was angry. \"Now, by Gar, I feex you!\" he cried, coming", "Yukon well on their way to Pelly.\nBut such splendid running was achieved not without great trouble and\nvexation on the part of Francois. The insidious revolt led by Buck\nhad destroyed the solidarity of the team. It no longer was as one dog\nleaping in the traces. The encouragement Buck gave the rebels led them\ninto all kinds of petty misdemeanors. No more was Spitz a leader greatly\nto be feared. The old awe departed, and they grew equal to challenging\nhis authority. Pike robbed him", "wolf was suspicious and afraid; for Buck made\nthree of him in weight, while his head barely reached Buck's shoulder.\nWatching his chance, he darted away, and the chase was resumed. Time\nand again he was cornered, and the thing repeated, though he was in poor\ncondition, or Buck could not so easily have overtaken him. He would run\ntill Buck's head was even with his flank, when he would whirl around at\nbay, only to dash away again at the first opportunity.\n\nBut in the end Buck's pertin" ], [ "it, and recalled instances they had known, where\ndogs, too old for the toil, or injured, had died because they were cut\nout of the traces. Also, they held it a mercy, since Dave was to die\nanyway, that he should die in the traces, heart-easy and content. So\nhe was harnessed in again, and proudly he pulled as of old, though more\nthan once he cried out involuntarily from the bite of his inward hurt.\nSeveral times he fell down and was dragged in the traces, and once the\nsled", "and the\nspark dimmed and paled and seemed to go out. And when the club or whip\nfell upon them, the spark fluttered feebly up, and they tottered to\ntheir feet and staggered on.\n\nThere came a day when Billee, the good-natured, fell and could not rise.\nHal had traded off his revolver, so he took the axe and knocked Billee\non the head as he lay in the traces, then cut the carcass out of the\nharness and dragged it to one side. Buck", "the winter they had travelled eighteen hundred miles, dragging sleds\nthe whole weary distance; and eighteen hundred miles will tell upon life\nof the toughest. Buck stood it, keeping his mates up to their work and\nmaintaining discipline, though he, too, was very tired. Billee cried and\nwhimpered regularly in his sleep each night. Joe was sourer than ever,\nand Sol-leks was unapproachable, blind side or other side.\n\nBut it was Dave who suffered most of all. Something had gone wrong with\nhim. He became", "the newcomers. He was a gloomy, morose fellow, and\nhe showed Curly plainly that all he desired was to be left alone, and\nfurther, that there would be trouble if he were not left alone. \"Dave\"\nhe was called, and he ate and slept, or yawned between times, and took\ninterest in nothing, not even when the Narwhal crossed Queen Charlotte\nSound and rolled and pitched and bucked like a thing possessed. When\nBuck and Curly grew excited, half wild with fear, he raised his head as\nthough annoyed", "in his old place in front of Dave. Buck retreated two\nor three steps. Francois followed him up, whereupon he again retreated.\nAfter some time of this, Francois threw down the club, thinking that\nBuck feared a thrashing. But Buck was in open revolt. He wanted, not to\nescape a clubbing, but to have the leadership. It was his by right. He\nhad earned it, and he would not be content with less.\n\nPerrault took a hand. Between them they ran him about for the better\npart of an hour. They threw", "rest Dave, letting him run free behind the sled.\nSick as he was, Dave resented being taken out, grunting and growling\nwhile the traces were unfastened, and whimpering broken-heartedly when\nhe saw Sol-leks in the position he had held and served so long. For the\npride of trace and trail was his, and, sick unto death, he could not\nbear that another dog should do his work.\n\nWhen the sled started, he floundered in the soft snow alongside the\nbeaten trail, attacking Sol-leks with", ",\neven Spitz left him alone. He had one peculiarity which Buck was unlucky\nenough to discover. He did not like to be approached on his blind side.\nOf this offence Buck was unwittingly guilty, and the first knowledge he\nhad of his indiscretion was when Sol-leks whirled upon him and slashed\nhis shoulder to the bone for three inches up and down. Forever after\nBuck avoided his blind side, and to the last of their comradeship had\nno more trouble. His only apparent ambition, like Dave's,", "the lash\nlaid upon him again and again, while Spitz soundly punished the many\ntimes offending Pike.\n\nIn the days that followed, as Dawson grew closer and closer, Buck still\ncontinued to interfere between Spitz and the culprits; but he did it\ncraftily, when Francois was not around, With the covert mutiny of Buck,\na general insubordination sprang up and increased. Dave and Sol-leks\nwere unaffected, but the rest of the team went from bad to worse.\nThings no longer", "and walked\nirresolutely up and down.\n\nThis was the first time Buck had failed, in itself a sufficient reason\nto drive Hal into a rage. He exchanged the whip for the customary club.\nBuck refused to move under the rain of heavier blows which now fell upon\nhim. Like his mates, he was barely able to get up, but, unlike them, he\nhad made up his mind not to get up. He had a vague feeling of impending\ndoom. This had been strong upon him when he pulled in to the bank, and\nit had not", "his teeth, rushing against him and\ntrying to thrust him off into the soft snow on the other side, striving\nto leap inside his traces and get between him and the sled, and all the\nwhile whining and yelping and crying with grief and pain. The half-breed\ntried to drive him away with the whip; but he paid no heed to the\nstinging lash, and the man had not the heart to strike harder. Dave\nrefused to run quietly on the trail behind the sled, where the going was\neasy, but continued to flound", ", went from\nbad to worse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It\nis a saying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the\nration of the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less\nthan die on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,\nfollowed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hanging\nmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.\n\nBy this time all the amenities and gentlenesses", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", ". He took all manner of risks, resolutely\nthrusting his little weazened face into the frost and struggling on from\ndim dawn to dark. He skirted the frowning shores on rim ice that bent\nand crackled under foot and upon which they dared not halt. Once, the\nsled broke through, with Dave and Buck, and they were half-frozen and\nall but drowned by the time they were dragged out. The usual fire was\nnecessary to save them. They were coated solidly with ice, and the two\nmen kept them on the run around", ",\nwhen he would advance his fore legs and hitch ahead again for a few more\ninches. His strength left him, and the last his mates saw of him he lay\ngasping in the snow and yearning toward them. But they could hear him\nmournfully howling till they passed out of sight behind a belt of river\ntimber.\n\nHere the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his\nsteps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot\nrang out. The man came back hurriedly", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "with Buck had gone to teach him\nthat his rival was an unusually timid dog, who managed to hold his own\nonly because of his great weight and size.\n\nFrancois was surprised, too, when they shot out in a tangle from the\ndisrupted nest and he divined the cause of the trouble. \"A-a-ah!\"\nhe cried to Buck. \"Gif it to heem, by Gar! Gif it to heem, the dirty\nt'eef!\"\n\nSpitz was equally willing. He was crying with sheer rage and eagerness\nas", "e poised in his hand,\nand as Buck shot past him the axe crashed down upon mad Dolly's head.\n\nBuck staggered over against the sled, exhausted, sobbing for breath,\nhelpless. This was Spitz's opportunity. He sprang upon Buck, and twice\nhis teeth sank into his unresisting foe and ripped and tore the flesh to\nthe bone. Then Francois's lash descended, and Buck had the satisfaction\nof watching Spitz receive the worst whipping as yet administered to any\nof the teams.\n\n\"", "had he been so angry. But his\nstrength ebbed, his eyes glazed, and he knew nothing when the train was\nflagged and the two men threw him into the baggage car.\n\nThe next he knew, he was dimly aware that his tongue was hurting and\nthat he was being jolted along in some kind of a conveyance. The hoarse\nshriek of a locomotive whistling a crossing told him where he was. He\nhad travelled too often with the Judge not to know the sensation of\nriding in a baggage car. He opened", ", and evinced no intention of getting\nout of the way. Hal drew his long hunting-knife. Mercedes screamed,\ncried, laughed, and manifested the chaotic abandonment of hysteria.\nThornton rapped Hal's knuckles with the axe-handle, knocking the knife\nto the ground. He rapped his knuckles again as he tried to pick it up.\nThen he stooped, picked it up himself, and with two strokes cut Buck's\ntraces.\n\nHal had no fight left in him. Besides,", ",\" he added.\n\nDazed, suffering intolerable pain from throat and tongue, with the life\nhalf throttled out of him, Buck attempted to face his tormentors. But he\nwas thrown down and choked repeatedly, till they succeeded in filing the\nheavy brass collar from off his neck. Then the rope was removed, and he\nwas flung into a cagelike crate.\n\nThere he lay for the remainder of the weary night, nursing his wrath and\nwounded pride. He could not understand what it all meant. What did they\nwant with him" ], [ "\nout boldly, but not straight enough into the stream. He discovered the\nmistake too late, when Thornton was abreast of him and a bare half-dozen\nstrokes away while he was being carried helplessly past.\n\nHans promptly snubbed with the rope, as though Buck were a boat. The\nrope thus tightening on him in the sweep of the current, he was jerked\nunder the surface, and under the surface he remained till his body\nstruck against the bank and he was hauled out. He was half drowned, and", "ore by Pete and Hans at the very point\nwhere swimming ceased to be possible and destruction began.\n\nThey knew that the time a man could cling to a slippery rock in the face\nof that driving current was a matter of minutes, and they ran as fast as\nthey could up the bank to a point far above where Thornton was hanging\non. They attached the line with which they had been snubbing the boat to\nBuck's neck and shoulders, being careful that it should neither strangle\nhim nor impede his swimming, and launched him into the stream. He struck", "as swift as a mill-race, when\nHans checked it with the rope and checked too suddenly. The boat flirted\nover and snubbed in to the bank bottom up, while Thornton, flung sheer\nout of it, was carried down-stream toward the worst part of the rapids,\na stretch of wild water in which no swimmer could live.\n\nBuck had sprung in on the instant; and at the end of three hundred\nyards, amid a mad swirl of water, he overhauled Thornton. When he felt\nhim grasp", "\nHans and Pete threw themselves upon him, pounding the breath into him\nand the water out of him. He staggered to his feet and fell down. The\nfaint sound of Thornton's voice came to them, and though they could not\nmake out the words of it, they knew that he was in his extremity. His\nmaster's voice acted on Buck like an electric shock, He sprang to his\nfeet and ran up the bank ahead of the men to the point of his previous\ndeparture.\n\nAgain the rope was attached and he was launched,", "closed with both arms\naround the shaggy neck. Hans snubbed the rope around the tree, and\nBuck and Thornton were jerked under the water. Strangling, suffocating,\nsometimes one uppermost and sometimes the other, dragging over the\njagged bottom, smashing against rocks and snags, they veered in to the\nbank.\n\nThornton came to, belly downward and being violently propelled back\nand forth across a drift log by Hans and Pete. His first glance was for\nBuck, over whose limp and", "breast of the island,\nflew down to the lower end, crossed a back channel filled with rough ice\nto another island, gained a third island, curved back to the main river,\nand in desperation started to cross it. And all the time, though he\ndid not look, he could hear her snarling just one leap behind. Francois\ncalled to him a quarter of a mile away and he doubled back, still one\nleap ahead, gasping painfully for air and putting all his faith in that\nFrancois would save him. The dog-driver held the ax", "\nby means of a pole, and shouting directions to the shore. Buck, on the\nbank, worried and anxious, kept abreast of the boat, his eyes never off\nhis master.\n\nAt a particularly bad spot, where a ledge of barely submerged rocks\njutted out into the river, Hans cast off the rope, and, while Thornton\npoled the boat out into the stream, ran down the bank with the end in\nhis hand to snub the boat when it had cleared the ledge. This it did,\nand was flying down-stream in a current", "watched them, Thornton knelt beside him and with rough, kindly\nhands searched for broken bones. By the time his search had disclosed\nnothing more than many bruises and a state of terrible starvation, the\nsled was a quarter of a mile away. Dog and man watched it crawling along\nover the ice. Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut,\nand the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it, jerk into the air. Mercedes's\nscream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn and make", "third with crushing\nforce. He clutched its slippery top with both hands, releasing Buck, and\nabove the roar of the churning water shouted: \"Go, Buck! Go!\"\n\nBuck could not hold his own, and swept on down-stream, struggling\ndesperately, but unable to win back. When he heard Thornton's command\nrepeated, he partly reared out of the water, throwing his head high, as\nthough for a last look, then turned obediently toward the bank. He swam\npowerfully and was dragged ash", "and again he struck\nout, but this time straight into the stream. He had miscalculated once,\nbut he would not be guilty of it a second time. Hans paid out the rope,\npermitting no slack, while Pete kept it clear of coils. Buck held on\ntill he was on a line straight above Thornton; then he turned, and with\nthe speed of an express train headed down upon him. Thornton saw him\ncoming, and, as Buck struck him like a battering ram, with the whole\nforce of the current behind him, he reached up and", ". He took all manner of risks, resolutely\nthrusting his little weazened face into the frost and struggling on from\ndim dawn to dark. He skirted the frowning shores on rim ice that bent\nand crackled under foot and upon which they dared not halt. Once, the\nsled broke through, with Dave and Buck, and they were half-frozen and\nall but drowned by the time they were dragged out. The usual fire was\nnecessary to save them. They were coated solidly with ice, and the two\nmen kept them on the run around", "his tail, Buck headed for the bank, swimming with all his\nsplendid strength. But the progress shoreward was slow; the progress\ndown-stream amazingly rapid. From below came the fatal roaring where the\nwild current went wilder and was rent in shreds and spray by the rocks\nwhich thrust through like the teeth of an enormous comb. The suck of the\nwater as it took the beginning of the last steep pitch was frightful,\nand Thornton knew that the shore was impossible. He scraped furiously\nover a rock, bruised across a second, and struck a", "hind him, he was forced back, down past the pool and into the creek\nbed, till he brought up against a high gravel bank. He worked along to a\nright angle in the bank which the men had made in the course of mining,\nand in this angle he came to bay, protected on three sides and with\nnothing to do but face the front.\n\nAnd so well did he face it, that at the end of half an hour the wolves\ndrew back discomfited. The tongues of all were out and lolling, the\nwhite fangs showing cru", "flung\nhimself upon another, and at the same time felt teeth sink into his own\nthroat. It was Spitz, treacherously attacking from the side.\n\nPerrault and Francois, having cleaned out their part of the camp,\nhurried to save their sled-dogs. The wild wave of famished beasts rolled\nback before them, and Buck shook himself free. But it was only for a\nmoment. The two men were compelled to run back to save the grub, upon\nwhich the huskies returned to the attack on the team. B", "the fire, sweating and thawing, so close\nthat they were singed by the flames.\n\nAt another time Spitz went through, dragging the whole team after him up\nto Buck, who strained backward with all his strength, his fore paws on\nthe slippery edge and the ice quivering and snapping all around. But\nbehind him was Dave, likewise straining backward, and behind the sled\nwas Francois, pulling till his tendons cracked.\n\nAgain, the rim ice broke away before and behind, and there was no escape\nexcept up", "the cliff. Perrault scaled it by a miracle, while Francois\nprayed for just that miracle; and with every thong and sled lashing and\nthe last bit of harness rove into a long rope, the dogs were hoisted,\none by one, to the cliff crest. Francois came up last, after the sled\nand load. Then came the search for a place to descend, which descent was\nultimately made by the aid of the rope, and night found them back on the\nriver with a quarter of a mile to the day's credit", "departed from him. What of the thin and rotten ice he had\nfelt under his feet all day, it seemed that he sensed disaster close at\nhand, out there ahead on the ice where his master was trying to drive\nhim. He refused to stir. So greatly had he suffered, and so far gone was\nhe, that the blows did not hurt much. And as they continued to fall upon\nhim, the spark of life within flickered and went down. It was nearly\nout. He felt strangely numb. As though from a great distance, he was\naware that he was", "back\nwith a heavy club in his hand.\n\nBuck remembered the man in the red sweater, and retreated slowly; nor\ndid he attempt to charge in when Sol-leks was once more brought\nforward. But he circled just beyond the range of the club, snarling with\nbitterness and rage; and while he circled he watched the club so as to\ndodge it if thrown by Francois, for he was become wise in the way of\nclubs. The driver went about his work, and he called to Buck when he was\nready to put him", "\nbecause she was sore and tired, she persisted in riding on the sled. She\nwas pretty and soft, but she weighed one hundred and twenty pounds--a\nlusty last straw to the load dragged by the weak and starving animals.\nShe rode for days, till they fell in the traces and the sled stood\nstill. Charles and Hal begged her to get off and walk, pleaded with her,\nentreated, the while she wept and importuned Heaven with a recital of\ntheir brutality.\n\nOn one occasion they took her off the s", "drew back,\nstreaming blood from slashed throats or shoulders.\n\nThis was sufficient to fling the whole pack forward, pell-mell, crowded\ntogether, blocked and confused by its eagerness to pull down the\nprey. Buck's marvellous quickness and agility stood him in good stead.\nPivoting on his hind legs, and snapping and gashing, he was everywhere\nat once, presenting a front which was apparently unbroken so swiftly did\nhe whirl and guard from side to side. But to prevent them from getting\nbe" ], [ "fore legs\nwere no more than in proportion with the rest of the body, where the\nmuscles showed in tight rolls underneath the skin. Men felt these\nmuscles and proclaimed them hard as iron, and the odds went down to two\nto one.\n\n\"Gad, sir! Gad, sir!\" stuttered a member of the latest dynasty, a king\nof the Skookum Benches. \"I offer you eight hundred for him, sir, before\nthe test, sir; eight hundred just as he stands.\"\n\nThornton shook his head and stepped to Buck'", "driven stoutly to defend him. At the end of half an hour one man\nstated that his dog could start a sled with five hundred pounds and\nwalk off with it; a second bragged six hundred for his dog; and a third,\nseven hundred.\n\n\"Pooh! pooh!\" said John Thornton; \"Buck can start a thousand pounds.\"\n\n\"And break it out? and walk off with it for a hundred yards?\" demanded\nMatthewson, a Bonanza King, he of the seven hundred vaunt.\n\n\"And break it out,", "one that put his name many notches higher on the totem-pole\nof Alaskan fame. This exploit was particularly gratifying to the three\nmen; for they stood in need of the outfit which it furnished, and were\nenabled to make a long-desired trip into the virgin East, where miners\nhad not yet appeared. It was brought about by a conversation in the\nEldorado Saloon, in which men waxed boastful of their favorite dogs.\nBuck, because of his record, was the target for these men, and Thornton\nwas", "s side.\n\n\"You must stand off from him,\" Matthewson protested. \"Free play and\nplenty of room.\"\n\nThe crowd fell silent; only could be heard the voices of the gamblers\nvainly offering two to one. Everybody acknowledged Buck a magnificent\nanimal, but twenty fifty-pound sacks of flour bulked too large in their\neyes for them to loosen their pouch-strings.\n\nThornton knelt down by Buck's side. He took his head in his two hands\nand rested cheek on cheek. He did not", ".\"\n\nBuck seized Thornton's hand in his teeth. Thornton shook him back and\nforth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back\nto a respectful distance; nor were they again indiscreet enough to\ninterrupt.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII. The Sounding of the Call\n\n\nWhen Buck earned sixteen hundred dollars in five minutes for John\nThornton, he made it possible for his master to pay off certain debts\nand to journey with his partners into the East after a fabled lost mine,\n", "no loser, nor would its\ndespatches travel the slower. Perrault knew dogs, and when he looked at\nBuck he knew that he was one in a thousand--\"One in ten t'ousand,\" he\ncommented mentally.\n\nBuck saw money pass between them, and was not surprised when Curly, a\ngood-natured Newfoundland, and he were led away by the little weazened\nman. That was the last he saw of the man in the red sweater, and as\nCurly and he looked at receding Seattle from the deck of", "\ntraces clear thereafter; and ere the day was done, so well had he\nmastered his work, his mates about ceased nagging him. Francois's whip\nsnapped less frequently, and Perrault even honored Buck by lifting up\nhis feet and carefully examining them.\n\nIt was a hard day's run, up the Canon, through Sheep Camp, past the\nScales and the timber line, across glaciers and snowdrifts hundreds of\nfeet deep, and over the great Chilcoot Divide, which stands between\n", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "say,\" one of the men on\nthe wall cried enthusiastically.\n\n\"Druther break cayuses any day, and twice on Sundays,\" was the reply of\nthe driver, as he climbed on the wagon and started the horses.\n\nBuck's senses came back to him, but not his strength. He lay where he\nhad fallen, and from there he watched the man in the red sweater.\n\n\"'Answers to the name of Buck,'\" the man soliloquized, quoting from the\nsaloon-keeper's letter which had announced the consignment", "his eyes, and into them came the\nunbridled anger of a kidnapped king. The man sprang for his throat, but\nBuck was too quick for him. His jaws closed on the hand, nor did they\nrelax till his senses were choked out of him once more.\n\n\"Yep, has fits,\" the man said, hiding his mangled hand from the\nbaggageman, who had been attracted by the sounds of struggle. \"I'm\ntakin' 'm up for the boss to 'Frisco. A crack dog-doctor there thinks\n", "ountain in the stable yard, and even\nbeyond, where the paddocks were, and the berry patches. Among the\nterriers he stalked imperiously, and Toots and Ysabel he utterly\nignored, for he was king,--king over all creeping, crawling, flying\nthings of Judge Miller's place, humans included.\n\nHis father, Elmo, a huge St. Bernard, had been the Judge's inseparable\ncompanion, and Buck bid fair to follow in the way of his father. He was\nnot so large,", "face. His tongue had\ntricked him. He did not know whether Buck could start a thousand pounds.\nHalf a ton! The enormousness of it appalled him. He had great faith in\nBuck's strength and had often thought him capable of starting such a\nload; but never, as now, had he faced the possibility of it, the eyes\nof a dozen men fixed upon him, silent and waiting. Further, he had no\nthousand dollars; nor had Hans or Pete.\n\n\"I've got a sled standing outside now, with twenty fiftypound sacks", "am!\" he cried, when his eyes lit upon Buck. \"Dat one dam bully\ndog! Eh? How moch?\"\n\n\"Three hundred, and a present at that,\" was the prompt reply of the man\nin the red sweater. \"And seem' it's government money, you ain't got no\nkick coming, eh, Perrault?\"\n\nPerrault grinned. Considering that the price of dogs had been boomed\nskyward by the unwonted demand, it was not an unfair sum for so fine\nan animal. The Canadian Government would be", "He called\nHans and Pete to him. Their sacks were slim, and with his own the three\npartners could rake together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of\ntheir fortunes, this sum was their total capital; yet they laid it\nunhesitatingly against Matthewson's six hundred.\n\nThe team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was\nput into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and\nhe felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton.", "had saved himself by not becoming a mere\npampered house-dog. Hunting and kindred outdoor delights had kept down\nthe fat and hardened his muscles; and to him, as to the cold-tubbing\nraces, the love of water had been a tonic and a health preserver.\n\nAnd this was the manner of dog Buck was in the fall of 1897, when the\nKlondike strike dragged men from all the world into the frozen North.\nBut Buck did not read the newspapers, and he did not know that Manuel,\none", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", ", and once more the dogs leaped as one dog in the\ntraces. At the Rink Rapids two native huskies, Teek and Koona, were\nadded; and the celerity with which Buck broke them in took away\nFrancois's breath.\n\n\"Nevaire such a dog as dat Buck!\" he cried. \"No, nevaire! Heem worth one\nt'ousan' dollair, by Gar! Eh? Wot you say, Perrault?\"\n\nAnd Perrault nodded. He was ahead of the record then, and", ". In fact, so inconceivably rapid were his\nmovements, and so closely were the Indians tangled together, that they\nshot one another with the arrows; and one young hunter, hurling a spear\nat Buck in mid air, drove it through the chest of another hunter with\nsuch force that the point broke through the skin of the back and stood\nout beyond. Then a panic seized the Yeehats, and they fled in terror to\nthe woods, proclaiming as they fled the advent of the Evil Spirit.\n\nAnd truly Buck was the Fiend inc", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms," ], [ "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "written on the\nearth, and Buck scented every detail of it down to the edge of a deep\npool. By the edge, head and fore feet in the water, lay Skeet, faithful\nto the last. The pool itself, muddy and discolored from the sluice\nboxes, effectually hid what it contained, and it contained John\nThornton; for Buck followed his trace into the water, from which no\ntrace led away.\n\nAll day Buck brooded by the pool or roamed restlessly about the camp.\nDeath, as a cessation of", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "arnate, raging at their heels and\ndragging them down like deer as they raced through the trees. It was\na fateful day for the Yeehats. They scattered far and wide over the\ncountry, and it was not till a week later that the last of the survivors\ngathered together in a lower valley and counted their losses. As for\nBuck, wearying of the pursuit, he returned to the desolated camp. He\nfound Pete where he had been killed in his blankets in the first moment\nof surprise. Thornton's desperate struggle was fresh-", "y eyes, but did not get up because of his\nstiffness.\n\nJohn Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, too\nconvulsed with rage to speak.\n\n\"If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you,\" he at last managed to say\nin a choking voice.\n\n\"It's my dog,\" Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as he came\nback. \"Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson.\"\n\nThornton stood between him and Buck", "was it, and so unexpected, that Buck was taken aback. He saw\nSpitz run out his scarlet tongue in a way he had of laughing; and he saw\nFrancois, swinging an axe, spring into the mess of dogs. Three men\nwith clubs were helping him to scatter them. It did not take long. Two\nminutes from the time Curly went down, the last of her assailants were\nclubbed off. But she lay there limp and lifeless in the bloody, trampled\nsnow, almost literally torn to pieces, the swart half-bre", "too great for Buck to do, when Thornton commanded. One day (they had\ngrub-staked themselves from the proceeds of the raft and left Dawson\nfor the head-waters of the Tanana) the men and dogs were sitting on the\ncrest of a cliff which fell away, straight down, to naked bed-rock three\nhundred feet below. John Thornton was sitting near the edge, Buck at his\nshoulder. A thoughtless whim seized Thornton, and he drew the attention\nof Hans and Pete to the experiment he had in mind.", "walked to the centre of the open space and listened. It was the call,\nthe many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever\nbefore. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was\ndead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound\nhim.\n\nHunting their living meat, as the Yeehats were hunting it, on the flanks\nof the migrating moose, the wolf pack had at last crossed over from the\nland of streams and timber and invaded Buck'", "closed with both arms\naround the shaggy neck. Hans snubbed the rope around the tree, and\nBuck and Thornton were jerked under the water. Strangling, suffocating,\nsometimes one uppermost and sometimes the other, dragging over the\njagged bottom, smashing against rocks and snags, they veered in to the\nbank.\n\nThornton came to, belly downward and being violently propelled back\nand forth across a drift log by Hans and Pete. His first glance was for\nBuck, over whose limp and", "third with crushing\nforce. He clutched its slippery top with both hands, releasing Buck, and\nabove the roar of the churning water shouted: \"Go, Buck! Go!\"\n\nBuck could not hold his own, and swept on down-stream, struggling\ndesperately, but unable to win back. When he heard Thornton's command\nrepeated, he partly reared out of the water, throwing his head high, as\nthough for a last look, then turned obediently toward the bank. He swam\npowerfully and was dragged ash", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", "turned\nabout and started slowly on the back track. For the better part of an\nhour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down,\npointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck\nheld steadily on his way he heard it grow faint and fainter until it was\nlost in the distance.\n\nJohn Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang\nupon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him,\nlicking", "\nout boldly, but not straight enough into the stream. He discovered the\nmistake too late, when Thornton was abreast of him and a bare half-dozen\nstrokes away while he was being carried helplessly past.\n\nHans promptly snubbed with the rope, as though Buck were a boat. The\nrope thus tightening on him in the sweep of the current, he was jerked\nunder the surface, and under the surface he remained till his body\nstruck against the bank and he was hauled out. He was half drowned, and", "not know that he\ngrowled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last\ntime in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it\nwas because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head.\n\nThe Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge\nwhen they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal\nthe like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live\nhurricane of fury, hurling himself upon", "playfully shake him, as was his\nwont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. \"As you\nlove me, Buck. As you love me,\" was what he whispered. Buck whined with\nsuppressed eagerness.\n\nThe crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing mysterious. It\nseemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his\nmittened hand between his jaws, pressing in with his teeth and releasing\nslowly, half-reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms,", "appeared simultaneous. His muscles were\nsurcharged with vitality, and snapped into play sharply, like steel\nsprings. Life streamed through him in splendid flood, glad and rampant,\nuntil it seemed that it would burst him asunder in sheer ecstasy and\npour forth generously over the world.\n\n\"Never was there such a dog,\" said John Thornton one day, as the\npartners watched Buck marching out of camp.\n\n\"When he was made, the mould was broke,\" said Pete.\n\n\"Py jingo! I t", "\nHans and Pete threw themselves upon him, pounding the breath into him\nand the water out of him. He staggered to his feet and fell down. The\nfaint sound of Thornton's voice came to them, and though they could not\nmake out the words of it, they knew that he was in his extremity. His\nmaster's voice acted on Buck like an electric shock, He sprang to his\nfeet and ran up the bank ahead of the men to the point of his previous\ndeparture.\n\nAgain the rope was attached and he was launched,", "his face, biting his hand--\"playing the general tom-fool,\" as\nJohn Thornton characterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth\nand cursed him lovingly.\n\nFor two days and nights Buck never left camp, never let Thornton out of\nhis sight. He followed him about at his work, watched him while he ate,\nsaw him into his blankets at night and out of them in the morning. But\nafter two days the call in the forest began to sound more imperiously\nthan ever. Buck's restlessness came back on him,", "\"Jump, Buck!\" he\ncommanded, sweeping his arm out and over the chasm. The next instant he\nwas grappling with Buck on the extreme edge, while Hans and Pete were\ndragging them back into safety.\n\n\"It's uncanny,\" Pete said, after it was over and they had caught their\nspeech.\n\nThornton shook his head. \"No, it is splendid, and it is terrible, too.\nDo you know, it sometimes makes me afraid.\"\n\n\"I'm not hankering to be the man that l", "ays hands on you while he's\naround,\" Pete announced conclusively, nodding his head toward Buck.\n\n\"Py Jingo!\" was Hans's contribution. \"Not mineself either.\"\n\nIt was at Circle City, ere the year was out, that Pete's apprehensions\nwere realized. \"Black\" Burton, a man evil-tempered and malicious, had\nbeen picking a quarrel with a tenderfoot at the bar, when Thornton\nstepped good-naturedly between. Buck, as was his custom, was lying in a" ], [ "movement, as a passing out and away from the\nlives of the living, he knew, and he knew John Thornton was dead. It\nleft a great void in him, somewhat akin to hunger, but a void which\nached and ached, and which food could not fill, At times, when he paused\nto contemplate the carcasses of the Yeehats, he forgot the pain of it;\nand at such times he was aware of a great pride in himself,--a pride\ngreater than any he had yet experienced. He had killed man, the noblest", "arnate, raging at their heels and\ndragging them down like deer as they raced through the trees. It was\na fateful day for the Yeehats. They scattered far and wide over the\ncountry, and it was not till a week later that the last of the survivors\ngathered together in a lower valley and counted their losses. As for\nBuck, wearying of the pursuit, he returned to the desolated camp. He\nfound Pete where he had been killed in his blankets in the first moment\nof surprise. Thornton's desperate struggle was fresh-", "being beaten. The last sensations of pain left him. He\nno longer felt anything, though very faintly he could hear the impact of\nthe club upon his body. But it was no longer his body, it seemed so far\naway.\n\nAnd then, suddenly, without warning, uttering a cry that was\ninarticulate and more like the cry of an animal, John Thornton sprang\nupon the man who wielded the club. Hal was hurled backward, as\nthough struck by a falling tree. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked on\nwistfully, wiped his water", "ays hands on you while he's\naround,\" Pete announced conclusively, nodding his head toward Buck.\n\n\"Py Jingo!\" was Hans's contribution. \"Not mineself either.\"\n\nIt was at Circle City, ere the year was out, that Pete's apprehensions\nwere realized. \"Black\" Burton, a man evil-tempered and malicious, had\nbeen picking a quarrel with a tenderfoot at the bar, when Thornton\nstepped good-naturedly between. Buck, as was his custom, was lying in a", ", and evinced no intention of getting\nout of the way. Hal drew his long hunting-knife. Mercedes screamed,\ncried, laughed, and manifested the chaotic abandonment of hysteria.\nThornton rapped Hal's knuckles with the axe-handle, knocking the knife\nto the ground. He rapped his knuckles again as he tried to pick it up.\nThen he stooped, picked it up himself, and with two strokes cut Buck's\ntraces.\n\nHal had no fight left in him. Besides,", "sufficient provocation, and Buck was discharged. But his reputation was\nmade, and from that day his name spread through every camp in Alaska.\n\nLater on, in the fall of the year, he saved John Thornton's life in\nquite another fashion. The three partners were lining a long and narrow\npoling-boat down a bad stretch of rapids on the Forty-Mile Creek. Hans\nand Pete moved along the bank, snubbing with a thin Manila rope from\ntree to tree, while Thornton remained in the boat, helping its descent", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "\nout boldly, but not straight enough into the stream. He discovered the\nmistake too late, when Thornton was abreast of him and a bare half-dozen\nstrokes away while he was being carried helplessly past.\n\nHans promptly snubbed with the rope, as though Buck were a boat. The\nrope thus tightening on him in the sweep of the current, he was jerked\nunder the surface, and under the surface he remained till his body\nstruck against the bank and he was hauled out. He was half drowned, and", "had he been so angry. But his\nstrength ebbed, his eyes glazed, and he knew nothing when the train was\nflagged and the two men threw him into the baggage car.\n\nThe next he knew, he was dimly aware that his tongue was hurting and\nthat he was being jolted along in some kind of a conveyance. The hoarse\nshriek of a locomotive whistling a crossing told him where he was. He\nhad travelled too often with the Judge not to know the sensation of\nriding in a baggage car. He opened", "y eyes, but did not get up because of his\nstiffness.\n\nJohn Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, too\nconvulsed with rage to speak.\n\n\"If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you,\" he at last managed to say\nin a choking voice.\n\n\"It's my dog,\" Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as he came\nback. \"Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson.\"\n\nThornton stood between him and Buck", "but by\nsome other and subtler sense. He heard nothing, saw nothing, yet knew\nthat the land was somehow different; that through it strange things were\nafoot and ranging; and he resolved to investigate after he had finished\nthe business in hand.\n\nAt last, at the end of the fourth day, he pulled the great moose down.\nFor a day and a night he remained by the kill, eating and sleeping, turn\nand turn about. Then, rested, refreshed and strong, he turned his face\ntoward camp and John Thornton. He broke into the long", "and the\nspark dimmed and paled and seemed to go out. And when the club or whip\nfell upon them, the spark fluttered feebly up, and they tottered to\ntheir feet and staggered on.\n\nThere came a day when Billee, the good-natured, fell and could not rise.\nHal had traded off his revolver, so he took the axe and knocked Billee\non the head as he lay in the traces, then cut the carcass out of the\nharness and dragged it to one side. Buck", "\nresolved. For two days and nights he neither ate nor drank, and during\nthose two days and nights of torment, he accumulated a fund of wrath\nthat boded ill for whoever first fell foul of him. His eyes turned\nblood-shot, and he was metamorphosed into a raging fiend. So changed was\nhe that the Judge himself would not have recognized him; and the express\nmessengers breathed with relief when they bundled him off the train at\nSeattle.\n\nFour men gingerly carried the crate from the wagon into a small,", "nton\ndrew him back to the fire again.\n\nThornton alone held him. The rest of mankind was as nothing. Chance\ntravellers might praise or pet him; but he was cold under it all,\nand from a too demonstrative man he would get up and walk away. When\nThornton's partners, Hans and Pete, arrived on the long-expected raft,\nBuck refused to notice them till he learned they were close to Thornton;\nafter that he tolerated them in a passive sort of way, accepting favors\nfrom them", "watched them, Thornton knelt beside him and with rough, kindly\nhands searched for broken bones. By the time his search had disclosed\nnothing more than many bruises and a state of terrible starvation, the\nsled was a quarter of a mile away. Dog and man watched it crawling along\nover the ice. Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut,\nand the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it, jerk into the air. Mercedes's\nscream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn and make", "He was afraid that Thornton would pass out of his life as\nPerrault and Francois and the Scotch half-breed had passed out. Even in\nthe night, in his dreams, he was haunted by this fear. At such times\nhe would shake off sleep and creep through the chill to the flap of\nthe tent, where he would stand and listen to the sound of his master's\nbreathing.\n\nBut in spite of this great love he bore John Thornton, which seemed\nto bespeak the soft civilizing influence, the strain of the primitive,", "walked to the centre of the open space and listened. It was the call,\nthe many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever\nbefore. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was\ndead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound\nhim.\n\nHunting their living meat, as the Yeehats were hunting it, on the flanks\nof the migrating moose, the wolf pack had at last crossed over from the\nland of streams and timber and invaded Buck'", "And two days later, when he\nreturned to his kill and found a dozen wolverenes quarrelling over the\nspoil, he scattered them like chaff; and those that fled left two behind\nwho would quarrel no more.\n\nThe blood-longing became stronger than ever before. He was a killer, a\nthing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone,\nby virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a\nhostile environment where only the strong survived. Because of all this\nhe became possessed of a great pride in", "not know that he\ngrowled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last\ntime in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it\nwas because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head.\n\nThe Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge\nwhen they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal\nthe like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live\nhurricane of fury, hurling himself upon" ], [ "\n\nAs Buck slid along with the obscureness of a gliding shadow, his nose\nwas jerked suddenly to the side as though a positive force had gripped\nand pulled it. He followed the new scent into a thicket and found Nig.\nHe was lying on his side, dead where he had dragged himself, an arrow\nprotruding, head and feathers, from either side of his body.\n\nA hundred yards farther on, Buck came upon one of the sled-dogs Thornton\nhad bought in Dawson. This dog was thrashing about in a death-stru", "arnate, raging at their heels and\ndragging them down like deer as they raced through the trees. It was\na fateful day for the Yeehats. They scattered far and wide over the\ncountry, and it was not till a week later that the last of the survivors\ngathered together in a lower valley and counted their losses. As for\nBuck, wearying of the pursuit, he returned to the desolated camp. He\nfound Pete where he had been killed in his blankets in the first moment\nof surprise. Thornton's desperate struggle was fresh-", "turned\nabout and started slowly on the back track. For the better part of an\nhour the wild brother ran by his side, whining softly. Then he sat down,\npointed his nose upward, and howled. It was a mournful howl, and as Buck\nheld steadily on his way he heard it grow faint and fainter until it was\nlost in the distance.\n\nJohn Thornton was eating dinner when Buck dashed into camp and sprang\nupon him in a frenzy of affection, overturning him, scrambling upon him,\nlicking", "written on the\nearth, and Buck scented every detail of it down to the edge of a deep\npool. By the edge, head and fore feet in the water, lay Skeet, faithful\nto the last. The pool itself, muddy and discolored from the sluice\nboxes, effectually hid what it contained, and it contained John\nThornton; for Buck followed his trace into the water, from which no\ntrace led away.\n\nAll day Buck brooded by the pool or roamed restlessly about the camp.\nDeath, as a cessation of", "his face, biting his hand--\"playing the general tom-fool,\" as\nJohn Thornton characterized it, the while he shook Buck back and forth\nand cursed him lovingly.\n\nFor two days and nights Buck never left camp, never let Thornton out of\nhis sight. He followed him about at his work, watched him while he ate,\nsaw him into his blankets at night and out of them in the morning. But\nafter two days the call in the forest began to sound more imperiously\nthan ever. Buck's restlessness came back on him,", ",\na cheer began to grow and grow, which burst into a roar as he passed\nthe firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose,\neven Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were\nshaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a\ngeneral incoherent babel.\n\nBut Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head,\nand he was shaking him back and forth. Those who hurried up heard him\ncursing Buck, and he cursed him long and f", "walked to the centre of the open space and listened. It was the call,\nthe many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever\nbefore. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was\ndead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound\nhim.\n\nHunting their living meat, as the Yeehats were hunting it, on the flanks\nof the migrating moose, the wolf pack had at last crossed over from the\nland of streams and timber and invaded Buck'", "third with crushing\nforce. He clutched its slippery top with both hands, releasing Buck, and\nabove the roar of the churning water shouted: \"Go, Buck! Go!\"\n\nBuck could not hold his own, and swept on down-stream, struggling\ndesperately, but unable to win back. When he heard Thornton's command\nrepeated, he partly reared out of the water, throwing his head high, as\nthough for a last look, then turned obediently toward the bank. He swam\npowerfully and was dragged ash", "y eyes, but did not get up because of his\nstiffness.\n\nJohn Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, too\nconvulsed with rage to speak.\n\n\"If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you,\" he at last managed to say\nin a choking voice.\n\n\"It's my dog,\" Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as he came\nback. \"Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson.\"\n\nThornton stood between him and Buck", "\nstirred to the realities of which they were the shadows. He had done\nthis thing before, somewhere in that other and dimly remembered world,\nand he was doing it again, now, running free in the open, the unpacked\nearth underfoot, the wide sky overhead.\n\nThey stopped by a running stream to drink, and, stopping, Buck\nremembered John Thornton. He sat down. The wolf started on toward the\nplace from where the call surely came, then returned to him, sniffing\nnoses and making actions as though to encourage him. But Buck", "it. Several times he\nstopped and drew in the fresh morning air in great sniffs, reading a\nmessage which made him leap on with greater speed. He was oppressed with\na sense of calamity happening, if it were not calamity already happened;\nand as he crossed the last watershed and dropped down into the valley\ntoward camp, he proceeded with greater caution.\n\nThree miles away he came upon a fresh trail that sent his neck hair\nrippling and bristling, It led straight toward camp and John Thornton.\nBuck hurried on, swiftly", "one step to\nrun back, and then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans\ndisappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had\ndropped out of the trail.\n\nJohn Thornton and Buck looked at each other.\n\n\"You poor devil,\" said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI. For the Love of a Man\n\n\nWhen John Thornton froze his feet in the previous December his partners\nhad made him comfortable and left him to get well, going", "\nin which they lived, the strength of Buck's gaze would draw John\nThornton's head around, and he would return the gaze, without speech,\nhis heart shining out of his eyes as Buck's heart shone out.\n\nFor a long time after his rescue, Buck did not like Thornton to get out\nof his sight. From the moment he left the tent to when he entered it\nagain, Buck would follow at his heels. His transient masters since he\nhad come into the Northland had bred in him a fear that no master could\nbe permanent.", "of John Thornton. As Buck\ngrew stronger they enticed him into all sorts of ridiculous games, in\nwhich Thornton himself could not forbear to join; and in this fashion\nBuck romped through his convalescence and into a new existence. Love,\ngenuine passionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never\nexperienced at Judge Miller's down in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley.\nWith the Judge's sons, hunting and tramping, it had been a working\npartnership; with the Judge's gr", "apparently lifeless body Nig was setting up a\nhowl, while Skeet was licking the wet face and closed eyes. Thornton was\nhimself bruised and battered, and he went carefully over Buck's body,\nwhen he had been brought around, finding three broken ribs.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he announced. \"We camp right here.\" And camp they\ndid, till Buck's ribs knitted and he was able to travel.\n\nThat winter, at Dawson, Buck performed another exploit, not so heroic,\nperhaps, but", "nton\ndrew him back to the fire again.\n\nThornton alone held him. The rest of mankind was as nothing. Chance\ntravellers might praise or pet him; but he was cold under it all,\nand from a too demonstrative man he would get up and walk away. When\nThornton's partners, Hans and Pete, arrived on the long-expected raft,\nBuck refused to notice them till he learned they were close to Thornton;\nafter that he tolerated them in a passive sort of way, accepting favors\nfrom them", "too great for Buck to do, when Thornton commanded. One day (they had\ngrub-staked themselves from the proceeds of the raft and left Dawson\nfor the head-waters of the Tanana) the men and dogs were sitting on the\ncrest of a cliff which fell away, straight down, to naked bed-rock three\nhundred feet below. John Thornton was sitting near the edge, Buck at his\nshoulder. A thoughtless whim seized Thornton, and he drew the attention\nof Hans and Pete to the experiment he had in mind.", "\nHans and Pete threw themselves upon him, pounding the breath into him\nand the water out of him. He staggered to his feet and fell down. The\nfaint sound of Thornton's voice came to them, and though they could not\nmake out the words of it, they knew that he was in his extremity. His\nmaster's voice acted on Buck like an electric shock, He sprang to his\nfeet and ran up the bank ahead of the men to the point of his previous\ndeparture.\n\nAgain the rope was attached and he was launched,", "dogs to do, save the hauling in of meat now\nand again that Thornton killed, and Buck spent long hours musing by\nthe fire. The vision of the short-legged hairy man came to him more\nfrequently, now that there was little work to be done; and often,\nblinking by the fire, Buck wandered with him in that other world which\nhe remembered.\n\nThe salient thing of this other world seemed fear. When he watched the\nhairy man sleeping by the fire, head between his knees and hands\nclasped above, Buck saw that", "not know that he\ngrowled, but he growled aloud with a terrible ferocity. For the last\ntime in his life he allowed passion to usurp cunning and reason, and it\nwas because of his great love for John Thornton that he lost his head.\n\nThe Yeehats were dancing about the wreckage of the spruce-bough lodge\nwhen they heard a fearful roaring and saw rushing upon them an animal\nthe like of which they had never seen before. It was Buck, a live\nhurricane of fury, hurling himself upon" ] ]

[ "What type of dog is he trained to be in Canada? ", "What is the name of the dog that had to be shot?", "Who is the outdoors-man who noticed the dogs being poorly treated?", "What does John worn the trio about?", "How did the trio and neglected dogs die?", "What did Buck have to break to win the wager?", "What did Buck win?", "Who does Buck return as every year?", "How did Thornton die?", "What kind of dog is Buck?", "Who was Buck's very first owner in the story?", "Who kidnaps Buck from the Judge?", "Where is Buck shipped after being stolen and sold by the gardener's assistant?", "Who are the two French-Canadian Dispatchers that purchase Buck?", "Where do Francois and Perrault take Buck?", "What do Francois and Perrault train Buck to be?", "Who are the owners who mistreat and nearly starve Buck in the wilderness? ", "Who saves Buck from Hal, Charles, and Mercedes?", "Who nurses Buck back to health and gains Buck's devotion as his last owner?", "Who owned Buck?", "Who stole the dog?", "Where does Buck become a sled dog?", "How does Buck become pack leader?", "Why was Dave shot?", "How was Back saved from drowning?", "What did Buck win from a bonanza king?", "Where was Buck when Thornton was killed?", "What happened to Back after he avenged Thornton's death?", "When does Buck go back to where Thornton was killed?" ]

[ [ "sled dog", "sled dog" ], [ "Dave", "Dave" ], [ "John Thorton", "John Thornton" ], [ "Crossing the river", "The melting ice on the river" ], [ "The drown trying to cross the river", "In the riber" ], [ "half ton sled ", "A half-ton sled." ], [ "$1600 in gold dust", "$1600 in gold dust" ], [ "Ghost dog", "the Ghost Dog of the Northland Legend" ], [ "He was attacked by natives.", "killed by natives" ], [ "A St. Bernard-Scotch Shepard.", "ST BERNARD/SCOTCH SHEPHERD MIX" ], [ "Judge Miller.", "Judge Miller" ], [ "The gardener's assistant. ", "Gardener's assistant" ], [ "Seattle. ", "SEATTLE" ], [ "Francois and Perrault. ", "Francois and Perrault." ], [ "Canada's Klondike region.", "THE KLONDIKE" ], [ "A Sled dog. ", "a sled dog" ], [ "Hal, Charles, and Mercedes. ", "MERCEDES, CHARLES AND HAL" ], [ "Thorton. ", "Thornton" ], [ "Thorton. ", "Thornton" ], [ "Judge Miller", "Judge Miller, Francois, Paraullt, Hal, Charles, Mercedes, Thorton" ], [ "the assistant to the gardener", "The gardener's assistant." ], [ "in Canada's Klondike region", "Canada" ], [ "by winning a fight against Spitz", "BY DEFEATING THE CURRENT PACK LEADER" ], [ "he became sick", "He was sick" ], [ "Thornton hit one of Buck's new owners and took him ", "Thornton set him free from the rest of the pack." ], [ "gold dust worth $1600", "Gold dust" ], [ "on a long hunt", "with a wolf pack" ], [ "he was attacked by wolves", "He is attacked by a pack of wolves." ], [ "every year", "Every year" ] ]

[ [ "he is\n\t\tliable for. The IRS wanted to go\n\t\tafter him, and this deal offered\n\t\tthem the opportunity.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI agreed to cooperate.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tAnd we're very grateful.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMoreover, Agent Joe Black here --\n\t\tof course that's not his real name\n\t\t-- smelled out your involvement,\n\t\tDrew. He", "ans over to Felicia, speaks quietly and she leaves\n\tthe room.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tHow did this all come about? Crisis\n\t\t-- Bill Parrish, crisis -- his com-\n\t\tpany, crisis for us. I came about\n\t\twith the arrival on the scene of --\n\t\tMr. Joe Black. Mr. Joe who? Joe\n\t\tBlack. He attends our Board meet-\n\t\tint, he sleeps at Bill's house, re-\n", " In front of Coyle, an open jar of peanut but-\n\tter which he is spreading in generous hunks of Wonder Bread.\n\tJoe is fascinated by the process. Coyle suddenly hears the\n\tsilence, looks up and see Joe, standing up embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes, sir?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello. I'm Joe Black. Nice to meet\n\t\tyou.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes sir, Mr", "Smith' or 'Jones --'\n\n\tParrish's face reveals a desperate searching for a last name,\n\ta furtive glance at Joe. Parrish's brow darkens and a name\n\ttumbles from his lips:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t-- Black.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tWhew, at last. Nice to meet you,\n\t\tMr. Black.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t'Joe Black'. Won fifteen and lost\n", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're putting me on the spot, Bill.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tLet's put it this way. When I go,\n\t\tyou go.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhen you go, I go.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's the best I can do.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...but minute-by-minute, I find\n\t\tmyself ling", "\t\tings and spending the rest of your\n\t\tlife living up to them. And above\n\t\tall, not hurting the object of your\n\t\tlove.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tSo that's what love is?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMultiply it by infinity and take it\n\t\tto the death of forever and you will\n\t\tstill have barely a glimpse of what\n\t\tI am talking about.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThose were my words, Bill.", "\t\tsides in his office. Never leaves\n\t\this side. And, in my opinion, is\n\t\talways in his ear. Telling him what\n\t\tto do and Bill is listening. Who is\n\t\tJoe Black? What is his relationship\n\t\tto Bill Parrish? And most important,\n\t\twhat is behind his influence on our\n\t\tChairman?\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're building this thing up too\n\t\tmuch, Drew. He's", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", "\n\t\tThat's your privilege, Bill. But\n\t\tgiven our needs, given the absolute\n\t\tnecessity for growth, given the fu-\n\t\tture, the truth is... joining John\n\t\tBontecou is every bit as certain as -\n\t\tDeath and Taxes.\n\n\tJoe interjects:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Death and Taxes'?\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n", "Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tWho is Joe Black?\n\n\tParrish stares stoically into the middle distance as\n\tQuince's head sinks into his hands.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tA motion has been brought before\n\t\tthe Board to invoke Article 19 of\n\t\tthe corporate charter.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIn English, please.\n\n\t\t\t D", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", " JOE\n\t\tBill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou've got a deal.\n\n\tParrish seems relieved. He has now, with some difficulty,\n\tcompleted the tying of Joe's tie, adjusts it beautifully on\n\tJoe's collar, then spins him around in front of a mirror.\n\tJoe, catching sight of his own appearance, rises to the\n\tballs of his feet, quite taken.\n\n\t\t\t ", "\n\n\tJoe stares at the money as Parrish shows him the door.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou know about money, don't you?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt can't buy happiness?\n\n\tParrish opens the door.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJennifer, give Mr. Black a map of\n\t\tthe city.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo thank you, Bill. I can manage.\n\n\t", "I never heard her speak of any man\n\t\tas she spoke of you -- It was always\n\t\twhat I wanted for her -- but what\n\t\thappens to her now?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't worry about it, Bill.\n\t\tThese things have a way of working\n\t\tout.\n\n\tJoe regards Parrish, waits until he has a sense that Parrish\n\thas accepted what Joe has said, then Joe continues:\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd", " PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not taking Susan anywhere.\n\t\tAnd what the hell does that mean\n\t\tanyway?\n\n\tJoe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tI thought we had a deal.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSusan is my daughter, she has a\n\t\twonderful life ahead of her and\n\t\tyou're going to dep", "rive her of\n\t\tit and you're telling me you're\n\t\tsorry? Well, I'm sorry, apology\n\t\tnot accepted.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love her, Bill. She is all that\n\t\tI ever wanted, and I've never wanted\n\t\tfor anything because I've never\n\t\twanted anything before, if you can\n\t\tunderstand.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow perfect for you -- to take\n\t\twhatever you want because it", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "that you want,\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm only following the Parrish\n\t\tbywords. Looking for that 'ounce\n\t\tof excitement', that 'whisper of a\n\t\tthrill' -- What there is no sense\n\t\tliving your life without. You know\n\t\twhat I mean, Bill.\n\n\tParrish's jaw sets.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're violating the laws of the\n\t\tuniverse.\n", "-\n\t\tgratulations. Now multiply it by\n\t\tinfinity and take it to the depth\n\t\tof forever, and you still will\n\t\thave barely a glimpse of what I\n\t\tam talking about.\n\n\tParrish falls silent, chewing over Joe's admonition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe --?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow about giving a guy a break?\n\n\t\t\t ", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should" ], [ "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd I said you'd have a hard time\n\t\tfinding a woman like that.\n\n\tJoe shifts, she smiles at his embarrasement.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, you've found one, Joe.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThe 'coffee shop' --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- That was the place... and you were\n\t\tthe guy.\n\n\tJoe seems resigned now, the air", "'Closed'? He nods and she closes it.\n\tUtter silence again. Parrish's eyes search the room, nothing\n\tthere.\n\n\tINT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE, DAY\n\n\tThe place has cleared out now, the counterman busy bussing\n\ttables laden with dishes and cups, Susan and the Young Man\n\tare still at the counter, but about to leave.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...It's kind of a pro", "an slowly realizes this is the Young Man. She is shaken,\n\ta sudden intake of breath.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, you all right?\n\n\tHis hand politely touches her elbow, courteously lending her\n\tsupport.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tThe coffee shop --\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, pleased with her recognition.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tI asked you if I said something\n\t\twrong and you said it was so right", "wrong with taking care of a\n\t\twoman? She takes care of you.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou'll have a hard time finding a\n\t\twoman like that these days --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou never know. Lightning could\n\t\tstrike.\n\n\tSusan at the door now, pauses abruptly, her eyes on the\n\tYoung Man.\n\n\tEXT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tThe", "my lucky day. I arrive\n\t\tin this big bad city and I not only\n\t\tfind a doctor, a beautiful woman as\n\t\twell.\n\n\tSusan looks into her coffee.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI'm sorry, you mind my saying that?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHow 'bout another cup of coffee?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI", "I mean that you knew\n\t\ther and everything --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI didn't know her. The body I took\n\t\tknew her. The man she met in the\n\t\tcoffee shop this morning. I - uh -\n\t\ttook him.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSo there's nothing between you and\n\t\tSusan?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI wish you had", "\n\t\t\t(lightly)\n\t\tWe've met.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?!\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- This morning. The Corinth Coffee\n\t\tShop. He was looking for a doctor.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, I guess he's found one.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tJoe, you do get around.\n\n\tJoe is happily confounded by all the interaction.\n\n\t\t\t ", ". Now she stops again. It is a man, he\n\tkeeps coming, and now that he is close and recognizes him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe...?\n\n\tHe smiles quizzically, hasn't quite heard her, stands right\n\tin front of her, loose, smiling, disoriented and yet so\n\tappealing. They are riveted on each other, uneasy and yet\n\tclose.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're here...\n\n\t", "want\n\t\tyou to be my doctor. Because I\n\t\tdon't want you to examine me.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBecause I like you so much.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tYou have coffee here every morning,\n\t\tdon't you? If I came by, could you\n\t\tgive me the name of a doctor?\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tSure, I", "d)\n\t\tJoe's not around.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\tSusan seems distracted.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tWhy are you looking for Joe?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tBecause I was sitting in a staff\n\t\tmeeting, incredibly bored, my mind\n\t\tkept wandering and the only place it\n\t\tlanded was", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "\n\n\tShe looks back at the Young Man, then turns and walks on.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE - THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tHe looks back at Susan as the distance between them widens,\n\tnow he turns and walks on.\n\n\tON SUSAN\n\n\tShe looks around once more but the Young Man is still headed\n\tin the opposite direction, his back to her. She turns the\n\tcorner and continues on.\n\n\tON THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tApproaching the corner, he looks back for Susan yet", "A counterman,\n\twith a smile and a greeting, places a cup of coffee in front\n\tof her. A sense this is a daily ritual, arming herself for\n\tthe day; immediately she becomes aware of a man behind her\n\tspeaking into the pay phone.\n\n\tAn attractive YOUNG MAN, early 30's, a pair of suitcase at\n\this feet, a raincoat slung over his shoulder.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...Honey, you've got to go on...\n", " Susan cuts past a re-\n\tceiving line that files up the stairs, she skirts the house\n\tand heads straight for the action, the party on the lawns in\n\tthe rear, climbs a terrace where she commands a view of the\n\tevent on which the curtain is just about to rise.\n\n\tEXT. LAWN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tGuests milling, emerging from the crowd Susan sees, isolated\n\tby a fountain, Joe. He looks up towards her, he knows she\n\thas seen him", "at it. One\n\t\tgirlfriend wasn't enough for him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tSo you're a one-girl guy?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tDamn right. Looking for her right\n\t\tnow. Who knows? You might be her.\n\n\tSusan laughs.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, don't laugh. I just arrived\n\t\tin town, got a new job -- I", "'ve got patients coming in --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tAnd I want to get into my apartment\n\t\tand go to work. Please, what do you\n\t\tsay, another cup of coffee?\n\n\tTwo pots are warming behind the counter, he reaches over and\n\trefills her cup and his. Pushes a container and pitcher to-\n\twards her.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI see you use lots of sugar and\n\t\tcream. ", "MEDICAL CENTER - DAY\n\n\tThe busy medical community at 68th Street and New York Avenue.\n\n\tINT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, NEW YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tA thriving eatery diagonally across from the hospital's\n\tentrance, customers cheek-by-jowl as a pair of waiters\n\tjuggle breakfasts served to a noisy throng of doctors,\n\tresidents and interns.\n\n\tSusan has squeezed into a seat in the corner. ", "up\n\t\twith her boyfriend and she's\n\t\tthinking about dropping out of\n\t\tlaw school.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI'm sorry --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tNothing to be sorry about. That's\n\t\tthe way with men and women, isn't\n\t\tit?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat's the way?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tNothing lasts.\n\n\t\t\t S", "Joe goes.\n\n\tINT. EMERGENCY ROOM AREA, NEW YORK HOSPITAL - DAY\n\n\tSusan is busy giving instructions to a Nurse, a patient on\n\tan examining table beside them. As she finishes, she\n\tsuddenly notices Joe down the corridor in the reception\n\tarea. She is startled for the moment, quickly makes a last\n\tnotation, hands a chart to the Nurse and heads down the\n\tcorridor.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe", "\n\t\tthe way you shift from foot-to-foot,\n\t\tI've always found endearing but just\n\t\tnow -- I got a chill.\n\n\tBut he drifts again, now she takes his hand.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tRemember that morning in the coffee\n\t\tshop? You said 'What's wrong with\n\t\ttaking care of a woman, she takes\n\t\tcare of you --\"\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tDid I say that?\n\n\t" ], [ "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", "Yes...\n\n\tIt is unmistakably a Voice, it is not the wind, Parrish has\n\theard something, he looks around, but no one is there. He\n\tcan't finish peeing, turns back to his bedroom. All beweild-\n\tered, Parrish looks around once more, climbs back into bed,\n\ttrying to trace the source of what he has heard or hasn't\n\theard; he is not sure.\n\n\tHe pulls the covers up now, not a SOUND, tries to close his\n", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\t... Yes.\n\n\tParrish blinks, has he heard something, has he not, he is\n\tnot sure, he releases his arm, his grimace of pain fades,\n\tthe discomfort seems momentarily to have subsided.\n\n\tHe rises now, crosses to the bathroom. As he pees, a breeze\n\toutside the window, the wind again, but then the Voice comes\n\tup:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\t", "ish stands,\n\ttrying to shake it off, but it refuses to go away, some-\n\tthing is unmistakably wrong. Now a SOUND which he has\n\tcome to recognize, makes itself heard:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tFrozen with surprise, Parrish's eyes search the room for the\n\tsource of the SOUND, it comes from no particular direction,\n\tyet surrounds him. Suddenly Parrish's symptoms sharply\n\tintensify, he", "\teyes.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tParrish sits up again, frightened, but still there is no one\n\tthere, he seems fraught with indecision, should he get up,\n\tshould he not, what is happening? He looks out: absolute\n\tstillness and silence, CRICKETS chirp down by the river, a\n\tlight FLICKERS from a shadboat, Parrish closes his eyes but\n\tthen they flutter open, he glances", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", "es-\n\t\ttion.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat question?\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tBill. Come on. The question. The\n\t\tquestion you've been asking yourself\n\t\twith increased regularity, at odd\n\t\tmoments, panting through the extra\n\t\tgame of handball, when you ran for\n\t\tthe plane in Delhi, when you sat up\n\t\tin bed last night and hit the floor\n\t\tin the office this morning. The\n\t\t", ", in a pained reflex, again turns and looks\n\tup towards the hill. There is nobody there. She hesitates,\n\tnow glides away from the party, her step quickens as she\n\twalks up towards the hill.\n\n\tSusan halts, in the distance a figure is approaching from\n\tover the crest of the hill where Joe and Parrish disappeared.\n\tHe is heading straight for her, she tries to make him out,\n\tseems to recognize him, starts to walk towards him as if\n\tpulled by a magnet", "some reassuring comment to Quince\n\twhen the Voice suddenly intrudes:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\t'...I know, it's none of my\n\t\tbusiness.'\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI was saying to Quince we won't\n\t\tneed --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDid you just hear something?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tWhy yes, Bill, I was saying", "field thing of all time. What do I\n\t\tdo? What do I tell my family?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tOh, I wouldn't tell them anything,\n\t\tBill. You'll ruin the good start we\n\t\thad last night. I felt as if I were\n\t\tbeing treated like a person. 'Joe'\n\t\tthis and 'Joe' that - a nice smile\n\t\t- Quince passed me the rolls -- no\n\t\t'rapture' or 'passion' or any of", "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "is sinking to the floor but somehow grabs a\n\tcorner of the desk, holds on with one hand, with the other\n\tclutches at his shoulder and arm, the pain has violently\n\tseized the upper part of his body. He breaks out in a sweat,\n\this pallor now waxen as the Voice repeats itself:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O., cont'd)\n\t\t...Yes.\n\n\tParrish grips the edge of the desk, the pain assaulting him\n\ton the one hand", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "\n\t\tGood night to you, Bill.\n\n\tParrish gently closes the door.\n\n\tJoe looks around, checks out his surroundings: curious,\n\tattentive.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, unsteady, starts back down the hall, Luisa appears.\n\n\t\t\t LUISA\n\t\t...Miss Allison asked if you would\n\t\tlike to have your dinner kept warm?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo", "-\n\t\tgratulations. Now multiply it by\n\t\tinfinity and take it to the depth\n\t\tof forever, and you still will\n\t\thave barely a glimpse of what I\n\t\tam talking about.\n\n\tParrish falls silent, chewing over Joe's admonition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe --?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow about giving a guy a break?\n\n\t\t\t ", "\t\tHow about you telling me? When I\n\t\task a simple question, I expect a\n\t\tstraight answer. That's what I'm\n\t\tused to. Anybody who doesn't give\n\t\tit to me, I fire.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAre you going to fire me, Bill?\n\n\tSilence, Parrish is at a loss.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - NIGHT\n\n\tDrew is putting on his coat, Susan with him, a tension between\n\tthem", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAre you sad, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes, I am. There's a research lib-\n\t\trary on the fourth floor. Why don't\n\t\tyou go down and read some magazines?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're not thinking of going some-\n\t\twhere, are you, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe, could I ask you to take a walk?\n\t\tBuy a" ], [ "\n\tThe Board meeting has broken up, clusters of members have\n\tlingered, exchanging post-mortems. And enraged Quince has\n\tcornered Drew, out of earshot of the others.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat have you done? You've gotten\n\t\tthe old man fired!\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThat we did. Thanks to you. He was\n\t\twobbling, mind you, but you stupid\n\t\tthe coup de grace.\n\n", "\tQuince falls silent, aquiver with this reality.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI'm going to put a stop to this!\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tQuince, you can't unscramble\n\t\tscrambled eggs.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBut I didn't mean to do it!\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThe train's left the station, pal,\n\t\tand you're aboard. Would you like\n\t\t", "-- yes. He says it's up\n\t\tto Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe'?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tThat's what he said.\n\n\tQuince, having dispensed his information, looks proudly\n\taround at the Board members. They are stunned, Sloane in\n\tshock. Drew is absolutely still, letting Quince's words\n\tsink in.\n\n\tINT. DINING ROOM, PARRISH", "\n\t\tAllison how you got her father\n\t\tfired -- and he lost his company.\n\n\tQuince goes ashen.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tIt's just life, Quin-cee.\n\n\tDrew hails an employee across the hall.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to Quince)\n\t\tWake up and smell the thorns.\n\n\tDrew joins the employee as Quince slumps against the wall.\n", "\n\t\t\t QUINCE (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tRed or white?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo, thank you.\n\n\tQuince sips the red, now the white, now he pours some of\n\teach into one glass.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tC'mon, have a drink. You look like\n\t\tyou need one bad as me.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tDo I? I'm a little confused", "\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI was a world-class loser and she\n\t\twas a happy, little rich girl --\n\t\tand for some reason she took me in.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBut she loves you?\n\n\tQuince smiles, nods embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tHow do you know?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBecause there's nothing we don't\n\t\tknow about each other and it's okay", " The\n\t\told man says it's up to Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe'? Those were his\n\t\twords?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYeah.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe', huh?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYeah, that's what he said.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tWell, that's very interesting.\n\n\t", "\n\t\tpletely. Totally. No fear.\n\n\tQuince seems uncharacteristically within himself.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE (cont'd)\n\t\tAll that hoopla up there reminds me\n\t\thow I will never measure up to a man\n\t\tlike Bill Parrish - or his daughter.\n\n\tHe drains his wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE (cont'd)\n\t\tDo you like me, Joe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tOh yes, you are", "\n\tthey pass QUINCE, 38, Allison's husband, who is perched at a\n\tportable bar with AMBROSE, the head caterer, tasting wines.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t...This shit's not bad.\n\n\t\t\t AMBROSE\n\t\t-- The late harvest Riesling, Mr.\n\t\tQuince, a possibility for dessert.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t\t(pointing to another\n\t\t\t bottle)\n", "Joe, you don't know how glad I am\n\t\tyou're aboard. Anybody who can take\n\t\tsome of the weight off the old man,\n\t\tI'm in his corner.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's very gracious of you, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tNo problem. I'll leave you two\n\t\talone. I can tell you guys have\n\t\tsomething on the fire --\n\n\tAn excited Quince drains his drink and heads for", "a warm smile at him.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tJoe knew the whole story. I told\n\t\thim. It was his idea that I come\n\t\tclean. I mean I wanted to come\n\t\tclean but he gave me a pair of\n\t\tballs, you know what I mean?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes, I believe I do.\n\n\tQuince now drifts off.\n\n\t\t\tQUICHE\n\t\tYeah", "NIGHT\n\n\tQuince is \"on the carpet\", sweating through a confession,\n\tParrish moroses but philosophical at his desk.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t...what can I say after I say that\n\t\tI'm sorry? I zipped when I should've\n\t\tzagged, I opened my big mouth one\n\t\ttoo many times, everything got all\n\t\ttwisted --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's okay, Quince. I understand.\n", "\t\tYou've always meant well and I\n\t\tappreciate that. Sometimes things\n\t\tjust turn out -- wrong.\n\n\tA KNOCK on the door, it opens, Joe appears.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tExcuse me --\n\n\tHe starts to step out.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tCome in, Joe -- I want to thank you\n\t\t-- okay, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSure.\n\n\tAs Joe enters, Quince flashes", "bottle of wine.\n\n\t\t\t AMBROSE\n\t\tRed or white?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBoth.\n\n\tJoe appears, looking bewildered, jostled by caterers setting\n\tup last-minute tables, a drummer from the band rolls his\n\ttraps past on a little cart. Joe doesn't seem to know where\n\the is, when his eyes alight on Quince, he heads for this\n\toasis. Ambrose sets down two bottles of wine and departs.\n", "\n\t\tI'm doing great. You ready?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI am, this is it. B Day.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow's that, Quince?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBontecou Day. Going to close\n\t\twith Big John -- Look at you, Bill,\n\t\tall cool as a cat and over at\n\t\tBontecou's, I'll bet he's shitting\n\t\tin his pants.", "\t\tAnd that?\n\n\t\t\t AMBROSE\n\t\tPinot Grigio. We're considering it\n\t\tfor the appetizer.\n\n\tAmbrose takes a sip, swishes the wine in his mouth, spits it\n\tin a bucket.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat do you do that for?\n\n\t\t\t AMBROSE\n\t\tWell sir, it's 9:30 in the morning.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t9:", "were going to say that.\n\t\tTito Puente. The old platoon. Now\n\t\tthe cake. You just don't care. Why\n\t\tdid I do this? I should have my head\n\t\texamined. I'm trying to throw the\n\t\tparty for the century for my father -\n\t\tand you know what -- he doesn't give\n\t\ta shit.\n\n\tShe bursts into tears all over again.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBut he does give a", "out in a cloud of dust.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tGive me a Seagrams and '7'.\n\n\tAmbrose looks at him blankly.\n\n\t\t\t QUICNCE (cont'd)\n\t\tNo got? Okay a double V.O., water\n\t\tback.\n\n\t\t\t AMBROSE\n\t\tI'm afraid this is a wine bar, Mr.\n\t\tQuince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tOkay, give me a", "I like it. I like it. I'm sorry I\n\t\tdon't seem more appreciative.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(resignedly)\n\t\tThat's okay, Daddy.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tAcross the room, Quince has pulled Drew aside:\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t...I know you're down, but you know\n\t\twhen you're down, Drew, there's no\n\t\tplace to go but up.", ".\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tConfused, huh? About what?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tLove.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t'Love'? Oh, man, I've got troubles\n\t\tof my own.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou love Allison, don't you?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tOh yes, I do.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHow did you meet?\n" ], [ "'Closed'? He nods and she closes it.\n\tUtter silence again. Parrish's eyes search the room, nothing\n\tthere.\n\n\tINT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE, DAY\n\n\tThe place has cleared out now, the counterman busy bussing\n\ttables laden with dishes and cups, Susan and the Young Man\n\tare still at the counter, but about to leave.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...It's kind of a pro", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "'ve got patients coming in --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tAnd I want to get into my apartment\n\t\tand go to work. Please, what do you\n\t\tsay, another cup of coffee?\n\n\tTwo pots are warming behind the counter, he reaches over and\n\trefills her cup and his. Pushes a container and pitcher to-\n\twards her.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI see you use lots of sugar and\n\t\tcream. ", "an slowly realizes this is the Young Man. She is shaken,\n\ta sudden intake of breath.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, you all right?\n\n\tHis hand politely touches her elbow, courteously lending her\n\tsupport.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tThe coffee shop --\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, pleased with her recognition.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tI asked you if I said something\n\t\twrong and you said it was so right", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "wrong with taking care of a\n\t\twoman? She takes care of you.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou'll have a hard time finding a\n\t\twoman like that these days --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou never know. Lightning could\n\t\tstrike.\n\n\tSusan at the door now, pauses abruptly, her eyes on the\n\tYoung Man.\n\n\tEXT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tThe", "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd I said you'd have a hard time\n\t\tfinding a woman like that.\n\n\tJoe shifts, she smiles at his embarrasement.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, you've found one, Joe.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThe 'coffee shop' --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- That was the place... and you were\n\t\tthe guy.\n\n\tJoe seems resigned now, the air", "again,\n\tbut she is gone, still turned he steps off into the street\n\tand a hospital supplies truck, speeding down the curb lane,\n\tHITS HIM BROADSIDE, a horrific impact, the THUD echoes as\n\this body arcs through the air.\n\n\tAnother sickening THUD as it lands, the Young Man lies\n\tcrumpled, still.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. SALON, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE, NEW YORK CITY - NIGHT", "I mean that you knew\n\t\ther and everything --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI didn't know her. The body I took\n\t\tknew her. The man she met in the\n\t\tcoffee shop this morning. I - uh -\n\t\ttook him.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSo there's nothing between you and\n\t\tSusan?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI wish you had", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "my lucky day. I arrive\n\t\tin this big bad city and I not only\n\t\tfind a doctor, a beautiful woman as\n\t\twell.\n\n\tSusan looks into her coffee.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI'm sorry, you mind my saying that?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHow 'bout another cup of coffee?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI", "\n\t\t\t(lightly)\n\t\tWe've met.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?!\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- This morning. The Corinth Coffee\n\t\tShop. He was looking for a doctor.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, I guess he's found one.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tJoe, you do get around.\n\n\tJoe is happily confounded by all the interaction.\n\n\t\t\t ", "\tI do?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tHow long will you be staying?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou should hope quite a while.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAnd then --?\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, gently.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tIt's... it's... over.\n\n\tA long silence. Parrish and the Young Man take each other in,\n\tthe sense that now they understand each other.", "A counterman,\n\twith a smile and a greeting, places a cup of coffee in front\n\tof her. A sense this is a daily ritual, arming herself for\n\tthe day; immediately she becomes aware of a man behind her\n\tspeaking into the pay phone.\n\n\tAn attractive YOUNG MAN, early 30's, a pair of suitcase at\n\this feet, a raincoat slung over his shoulder.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...Honey, you've got to go on...\n", "forward now, no\n\tlonger obscured by the glass he comes into the light, re-\n\tvealing himself to be the Young Man seen previously in the\n\tcoffee shop, but there is a change; he seems odd, off-\n\tcenter, not handsome but terrifyingly beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tA moment, Parrish beside himself. He cannot bring himself\n\tto speak, finally:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAm I dreaming this?\n\t\t\t", "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know", "\n\t\tMay I remind you this is not just a\n\t\tdispute with a putative suitor, this\n\t\tis me. So watch it...Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut the 'Bill' crap out -- you\n\t\tsonofabitch.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI told you, 'watch it'.\n\n\tSilence. Now Joe turns on his heel, heads right out the\n\tfront door. Parrish is left solitary, confounded, staring\n\tat the", "that it\n\t\twon't be a problem.\n\n\tParrish hesitates, nods, conceding the point, reaches for\n\tthe doorknob.\n\n\tINT. BOARD ROOM, PARRISH COMMUNICATIONS - DAY\n\n\tParrish enters, Joe following right behind him. A euphony\n\tof \"Good morning\"'s from the various members of the Board,\n\tincluding Quince. Everyone sits when Parrish does but Joe,\n\tright at home, spots a tray of refreshments: coffee", "s head, and I don't mind\n\t\tadmitting it was turned, I liked it,\n\t\tbut ten hours later I feel like a\n\t\tfool. I don't get it. You, my\n\t\tfather, here in this house, the cof-\n\t\tfee shop, it's making me upset, and\n\t\tI don't like being upset. Who are\n\t\tyou anyway? And what are you eating?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(mumbles)\n\t\tPe" ], [ "ad to hear it!\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tLet's go.\n\n\tShe takes Susan's arm and marches her off, Joe, in thrall,\n\twatches them go as the MUSIC erupts behind them, as 'up'\n\tdance tune, a lilting, catchy melody envelops them all. The\n\tcurtain has risen on William Parrish's 65th birthday party.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE -", "\n\t\tI'm doing great. You ready?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI am, this is it. B Day.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow's that, Quince?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBontecou Day. Going to close\n\t\twith Big John -- Look at you, Bill,\n\t\tall cool as a cat and over at\n\t\tBontecou's, I'll bet he's shitting\n\t\tin his pants.", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\n\t\tWe're all ears.\n\n\tDrew enters with Quince, Quince nods, excusing himself, and\n\tcloses the door behind him.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHi, Bill, happy birthday --\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tI just wanted to say how appre-\n\t\tciative I am of this - uh - grand\n\t\tgesture and --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tShut up and sit down", "wait to tell\n\t\thim 'till after the party?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\tQuince nods anxiously, then smiles gratefully. They look on\n\tas the pre-party activities swirl on around them.\n\n\tEXT. FRONT ENTRANCE, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET (LATER)\n\n\tThe moment just before sunset, the last pre-party minutes,\n\ta procession of guests' cars winding up to the guest house,\n\tbeing directed into adjacent fields.", "for loving me.\n\n\tShe smiles wanly, Joe leaves her.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish is seated by the window, lights from the party\n\tflashing past, the MUSIC and laughter audible but muted,\n\tthe fever of the celebration lost on him, within himself.\n\n\tJoe enters, Parrish looks up.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t...We should think about getting\n\t\tstarted, Bill.\n\n\t", "\n\tsmiles back. Now she heads out with the crowd for the\n\tfireworks. When Parrish senses she is on her way, he turns\n\tand heads up towards Joe.\n\n\tJoe rises to meet Parrish as he approaches.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHappy Birthday, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\tThey watch the guests gathering to view the fireworks.\n\tJoe's gaze lingers.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'", ",\n\tJoe right behind them.\n\n\tEXT. LAWNS, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tThe guests have formed themselves into a huge audience, the\n\torchestra strikes up \"Happy Birthday\" as Parrish appears\n\twith Allison. An enormous cake is unveiled with one great,\n\tlit candle, Parrish beams then laughs. He pauses over the\n\tcake, now blows the candle out. APPLAUSE, cries of \"Speech!\n\tSpeech!\", Parr", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "wanted for my birthday --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHey, there's lots to come.\n\t\t\t(gesturing to me\n\t\t\t activity)\n\t\tA little excess -- like you love.\n\n\tThe preparations are building to a climax, all the elaborate\n\tplans coming to fruition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou know, darling, this is going to\n\t\tbe a wonderful party.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tYes", "Agent --\n\n\tSilence. Joe shrugs, smiles.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Death and Taxes'.\n\n\tThe door flies open, an anxious Allison appears.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tDaddy! We've been looking all over\n\t\tfor you - this is your party - what\n\t\tare you doing in here? Never mind.\n\t\tYou're on. Let's go.\n\n\tShe pulls him out of his chair, hustles him out of the room", "\n\t\tGood night to you, Bill.\n\n\tParrish gently closes the door.\n\n\tJoe looks around, checks out his surroundings: curious,\n\tattentive.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, unsteady, starts back down the hall, Luisa appears.\n\n\t\t\t LUISA\n\t\t...Miss Allison asked if you would\n\t\tlike to have your dinner kept warm?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo", "from the party, up a meadow that leads to a hill overlooking\n\tthe river.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tDown below, the party guests' faces are lit by the initial\n\tfireworks display. Among them is Susan, but her interest\n\tisn't there. Not something pulls her attention, an over-\n\tpowering feeling that compels her to turn and see, at a\n\tdistance, Parrish and Joe walking away up the meadow. Some-\n\tthing about the sight saddens and at the same time fright", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "ens\n\ther, she turns back to the party, dazed, tracing on the\n\tfireworks.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tUp the hill Parrish's step slows, Joe slowing with him.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm getting a little dizzy, I can\n\t\tfeel my heart pumping --\n\n\tBut Parrish doesn't wait for a response, just continues on\n\tup the meadow, towards the rise of the hill, Joe in step\n\twith him.\n\n" ], [ "\t\tsides in his office. Never leaves\n\t\this side. And, in my opinion, is\n\t\talways in his ear. Telling him what\n\t\tto do and Bill is listening. Who is\n\t\tJoe Black? What is his relationship\n\t\tto Bill Parrish? And most important,\n\t\twhat is behind his influence on our\n\t\tChairman?\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're building this thing up too\n\t\tmuch, Drew. He's", "\n\t\tOh yes, there is one additional\n\t\telement: Bontecou is so anxious to\n\t\tget us, he said he'd take Parrish\n\t\tCommunications with our Chairman or\n\t\twithout.\n\n\tThe Board falls silent. Sloane, a peer of Parrish's,\n\tfidgets. Drew milks the moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'D)\n\t\tIt's no surprise if I suggest to you\n\t\tthat the Bill Parrish we know is not", "JOE\n\t\tYou're the poison, Drew. You've\n\t\toperated behind-the-scenes to suborn\n\t\tthe trust of a man who has stamped\n\t\tyou with his imprimatur of class and\n\t\telegance and stature. I've seen all\n\t\tkinds and degrees of deception in my\n\t\ttime, but Bill Parrish has been on\n\t\tthe receiving end of machinations so\n\t\tMachiavellian that it has rarely\n\t\tbeen my experience to encounter", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tUh -- he's from out of town --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow long you here, Joe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAs long as it takes.\n\n\tDrew is provoked by the response, but remains polite:\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou and Bill old friends?\n\n\tParrish jumps in:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", ".\n\n\tDrew takes a seat.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're a worthless sack of shit, you\n\t\tfucked me over, played footsie with\n\t\tJohn Bontecou, sold my company out\n\t\tto line your own pockets.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI don't know where you get that idea\n\t\t-- the Board agreed --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe Board didn't know you're a mole\n\t", ". We will of\n\t\tcourse delay the announcement, out\n\t\tof respect for our former Chairman,\n\t\tuntil after the celebration of his\n\t\tbirthday this weekend.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you for allowing me to save\n\t\tface, Drew.\n\n\tJoe's eyes are riveted on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tThe other motion before us is the\n\t\tacceptance of John Bontecou's offer\n\t\t", "\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBill's birthday is the day after\n\t\ttomorrow. There is a provisory by-\n\t\tlaw in our charter. Per the discre-\n\t\ttion of the Board, Corporate off-\n\t\ticers can be retired at age sixty-\n\t\tfive.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're taking this too far, Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAm I not obligated to?\n\n\tDrew le", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tI get the feeling you've done some\n\t\tbusiness before.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tWe have an arrangement now.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tWhat side of the industry did you\n\t\tsay you were on?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI didn't say.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tJoe sounds like a ringer, Bill. I\n\t\thave the feeling you guys", "\n\t\tmore.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe, don't do this --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt's time to put this person where\n\t\the belongs.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's not necessary, Joe. Drew's\n\t\tgoing to step aside --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI'm not stepping anywhere --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI appreciate your gentlemanliness,\n\t\tBill, but", "to merge this corporation with\n\t\tBontecou International --\n\n\tParrish stands, Drew stops speaking.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\tSilence, then Joe rises.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tWho I am, and my relationship to\n\t\tBill, will be divulged in our own\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\tJoe follows Parrish out of the room.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, OUTSIDE BOARD RO", "\n\t\tthe Bill Parrish you saw yesterday.\n\t\tYou heard that speech -- some strange\n\t\temotional rationale to buttress a\n\t\tknee-jerk rejection of a legitimate\n\t\toffer. Does it not strike you that\n\t\tsomething is possibly affecting this\n\t\tman's judgement? More specifically\n\t\t-- his judgement to make a critical\n\t\tbusiness decision?\n\n\tSilence, the Board clocking Drew's argument.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'D)", "\t\twith one of our books or magazines\n\t\tand you would always be told the\n\t\ttruth and in the bargain, have a\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThat's great! Wait 'til I show it\n\t\tto Bontecou.\n\n\tDrew opens a door, a conference room, a circle of top exec-\n\tutives, now stepping out from the group is a huge, white-\n\thaired man, JOHN BONTECOU, 55.\n\n\t", "one of my favorites.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat would you say if you knew\n\t\tit was me who brought down Bill\n\t\tParrish?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI told Drew and the Board that Bill\n\t\tdepended on you. Drew led me on,\n\t\tbut I had no business telling him\n\t\tin the first place. He was setting\n\t\tup Bill from day one. Drew and\n\t\tBontecou are going to chop up the\n\t\tcompany", "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "-- yes. He says it's up\n\t\tto Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe'?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tThat's what he said.\n\n\tQuince, having dispensed his information, looks proudly\n\taround at the Board members. They are stunned, Sloane in\n\tshock. Drew is absolutely still, letting Quince's words\n\tsink in.\n\n\tINT. DINING ROOM, PARRISH", "\t\tNo lawyers, Drew. We're going to\n\t\toffer you a deal.\n\n\tDrew is all attention.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tConfess to the Board every details of\n\t\tyour participation and then submit\n\t\tyour resignation.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAnd what do I get?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou get not to go to jail.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou're talking through your", "\t\t DREW\n\t\tFor how long? And why?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tPlease. Don't worry about him. And\n\t\tabove all, don't antagonize him.\n\n\tDrew glances over at Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBoss's orders, huh? I'm great at\n\t\tfollowing them. And I think I'll\n\t\tstart right now.\n\n\tAllison calls out from the other side of the", "'t you know what this'll mean?\n\t\tYou'll be rich. You'll sell your\n\t\tstock, you can stop kissing ass --\n\t\tWhat'll it feel like to be a man?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI don't want to get rich this way --\n\t\tI'm going to expose you.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tGo right ahead. Tell William\n\t\tParrish how you betrayed him at\n\t\ta secret Board meeting. And tell" ], [ "has comprehended. He surveys the Young Man who, at this\n\tmoment, actually seems bewildered by his effect.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're Death?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDeath!\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThat's me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not Death. You're just a kid\n\t\t", "I'll tell you.\n\t\tYou're looking at a man who tonight\n\t\tis not about to walk through the\n\t\tValley of the Shadow of Death, he's\n\t\tgalloping into it. And the same time,\n\t\tthe business he built with his own\n\t\thands and his own head is being\n\t\tcommandeered by a couple of cheap\n\t\tpirates. And, oh yes, I almost\n\t\tforgot, my daughter's fallen in\n\t\tlove with Death.\n\n\tAnother", "are --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t \t(urging again)\n\t\t'...Yes --'\n\n\tParrish turns away. But the Young Man, spectacularly, is in\n\tfront of him again.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tWho am I?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Death.\n\n\tParrish is shocked, stunned, terrified at the word, by what\n\the", " In front of Coyle, an open jar of peanut but-\n\tter which he is spreading in generous hunks of Wonder Bread.\n\tJoe is fascinated by the process. Coyle suddenly hears the\n\tsilence, looks up and see Joe, standing up embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes, sir?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello. I'm Joe Black. Nice to meet\n\t\tyou.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes sir, Mr", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "for a moment, his\n\teyes searching the room for the Voice, the timbre and pitch\n\tof which is exactly what he has heard before. There is the\n\tsense that someone is there but Parrish cannot see him, and\n\the does not dare look.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tWhere are you?\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\tI'm here.\n\n\tNow a flicker of a shadow from behind a corner of the obscured\n", "in a jacket and a pair of pants.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThe jacket and the pair of pants\n\t\tcame with the body I took. Let me\n\t\task your opinion. Do I blend in?\n\n\tA hopelessly confused Parrish does not respond for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou want me to be your guide --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou fill the bill, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t", "he is\n\t\tliable for. The IRS wanted to go\n\t\tafter him, and this deal offered\n\t\tthem the opportunity.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI agreed to cooperate.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tAnd we're very grateful.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMoreover, Agent Joe Black here --\n\t\tof course that's not his real name\n\t\t-- smelled out your involvement,\n\t\tDrew. He", "ans over to Felicia, speaks quietly and she leaves\n\tthe room.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tHow did this all come about? Crisis\n\t\t-- Bill Parrish, crisis -- his com-\n\t\tpany, crisis for us. I came about\n\t\twith the arrival on the scene of --\n\t\tMr. Joe Black. Mr. Joe who? Joe\n\t\tBlack. He attends our Board meet-\n\t\tint, he sleeps at Bill's house, re-\n", "Smith' or 'Jones --'\n\n\tParrish's face reveals a desperate searching for a last name,\n\ta furtive glance at Joe. Parrish's brow darkens and a name\n\ttumbles from his lips:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t-- Black.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tWhew, at last. Nice to meet you,\n\t\tMr. Black.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t'Joe Black'. Won fifteen and lost\n", "knows\n\t\twhat. You arrive on the scene -- why\n\t\tyou picked me, I still don't under-\n\t\tstand --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI picked you for your verve, your\n\t\texcellence, and for your ability to\n\t\t- how shall I say - instruct. You've\n\t\tlived a first-rate life. And I find\n\t\tit eminently usable.\n\n\tParrish measures Joe.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat do", "\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\t... Yes.\n\n\tParrish blinks, has he heard something, has he not, he is\n\tnot sure, he releases his arm, his grimace of pain fades,\n\tthe discomfort seems momentarily to have subsided.\n\n\tHe rises now, crosses to the bathroom. As he pees, a breeze\n\toutside the window, the wind again, but then the Voice comes\n\tup:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\t", ", in a pained reflex, again turns and looks\n\tup towards the hill. There is nobody there. She hesitates,\n\tnow glides away from the party, her step quickens as she\n\twalks up towards the hill.\n\n\tSusan halts, in the distance a figure is approaching from\n\tover the crest of the hill where Joe and Parrish disappeared.\n\tHe is heading straight for her, she tries to make him out,\n\tseems to recognize him, starts to walk towards him as if\n\tpulled by a magnet", "Yes...\n\n\tIt is unmistakably a Voice, it is not the wind, Parrish has\n\theard something, he looks around, but no one is there. He\n\tcan't finish peeing, turns back to his bedroom. All beweild-\n\tered, Parrish looks around once more, climbs back into bed,\n\ttrying to trace the source of what he has heard or hasn't\n\theard; he is not sure.\n\n\tHe pulls the covers up now, not a SOUND, tries to close his\n", "is sinking to the floor but somehow grabs a\n\tcorner of the desk, holds on with one hand, with the other\n\tclutches at his shoulder and arm, the pain has violently\n\tseized the upper part of his body. He breaks out in a sweat,\n\this pallor now waxen as the Voice repeats itself:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O., cont'd)\n\t\t...Yes.\n\n\tParrish grips the edge of the desk, the pain assaulting him\n\ton the one hand", "Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tWho is Joe Black?\n\n\tParrish stares stoically into the middle distance as\n\tQuince's head sinks into his hands.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tA motion has been brought before\n\t\tthe Board to invoke Article 19 of\n\t\tthe corporate charter.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIn English, please.\n\n\t\t\t D", ", the Voice coming at him from the outer,\n\teach aberration feeds on the other, he is beside himself,\n\tconsumed with pain and bewildered by what seems to be a\n\thallucination but which he is certain is not. Parrish is\n\tpossessed. He angles his face in every direction, arbi-\n\ttrarily chooses one and now embarrassedly, unconsciously,\n\tenrage, responds to the Voice.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t'Yes' what?\n\n\t\t\t V", "watches her, now his eyes close. Easter exhales\n\traspingly, falls still. The monitors flatline. A beeping\n\talarm sound somewhere down the hall.\n\n\tJoe opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, he seems troubled.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tG'bye, sistah.\n\n\tShe slips out of the room.\n\n\tINT. LIBRARY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON\n\n\tParrish is playing sol", "again,\n\tbut she is gone, still turned he steps off into the street\n\tand a hospital supplies truck, speeding down the curb lane,\n\tHITS HIM BROADSIDE, a horrific impact, the THUD echoes as\n\this body arcs through the air.\n\n\tAnother sickening THUD as it lands, the Young Man lies\n\tcrumpled, still.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. SALON, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE, NEW YORK CITY - NIGHT" ], [ "\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI have to go, I'm sorry to say --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBe sorry for nothing.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYes. Well...thank you, Joe.\n\n\tSusan turns to go, hesitates.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGood-bye, Susan.\n\n\tSusan waves softly to him, heads down the hall, glances back\n\tonce to see Joe has not moved,", "Joe goes.\n\n\tINT. EMERGENCY ROOM AREA, NEW YORK HOSPITAL - DAY\n\n\tSusan is busy giving instructions to a Nurse, a patient on\n\tan examining table beside them. As she finishes, she\n\tsuddenly notices Joe down the corridor in the reception\n\tarea. She is startled for the moment, quickly makes a last\n\tnotation, hands a chart to the Nurse and heads down the\n\tcorridor.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe", "\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI don't know who you are.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tWell...I'm -- uh, Joe. And you're\n\t\tSusan. And I - uh - have this weak\n\t\tfeeling in my knees --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd is your heart beating strangely?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tFaster. And I want the scent from", " Susan cuts past a re-\n\tceiving line that files up the stairs, she skirts the house\n\tand heads straight for the action, the party on the lawns in\n\tthe rear, climbs a terrace where she commands a view of the\n\tevent on which the curtain is just about to rise.\n\n\tEXT. LAWN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tGuests milling, emerging from the crowd Susan sees, isolated\n\tby a fountain, Joe. He looks up towards her, he knows she\n\thas seen him", ". Now she stops again. It is a man, he\n\tkeeps coming, and now that he is close and recognizes him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe...?\n\n\tHe smiles quizzically, hasn't quite heard her, stands right\n\tin front of her, loose, smiling, disoriented and yet so\n\tappealing. They are riveted on each other, uneasy and yet\n\tclose.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're here...\n\n\t", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWell, they're mine now.\n\n\tJoe is silent for a moment, cogitating.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tSusan wants to come. She says she's\n\t\tin love with me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWith you?! Who is 'you'? Did you\n\t\ttell her who you are?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDoes", "-- Joe.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't understand.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tLove. Passion. Obsession, all\n\t\tthose things you told me to wait\n\t\tfor. Well, they've arrived.\n\n\tParrish blinks, stares down at his cards.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhy? A man appears at your side,\n\t\talmost", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "but where he knows he will find Susan.\n\n\tEXT. GARDEN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tThe very last rays of the sun setting over the wide expanse\n\tof river, the light catching Susan and Joe as they enter the\n\tgarden, the party forming behind them, the river flowing in\n\tfront of them.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI like you in a black tie.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love you in an evening gown.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN", "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd I said you'd have a hard time\n\t\tfinding a woman like that.\n\n\tJoe shifts, she smiles at his embarrasement.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, you've found one, Joe.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThe 'coffee shop' --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- That was the place... and you were\n\t\tthe guy.\n\n\tJoe seems resigned now, the air", "She walks up to him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tHow long have you been standing\n\t\tthere?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI don't like the way Drew spoken to\n\t\tyou. But I feel better about it now\n\t\tbecause of the way you spoke back.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tTell me about yourself, Joe. Who\n\t\tyou are. What you're doing with my\n\t\tfather.\n\n\tSusan'", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tBrave you had a chance to look at\n\t\tDad's rare books? Jefferson's\n\t\tParliamentary Manual, a first\n\t\tedition Bleak House --\n\n\tJoe comes closer, takes a deep breath.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love your smell.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- I guess you haven't.\n\n\tNow Susan, close to Joe, leans closer, her nose in Joe's\n\tneck", "\t JOE\n\t\t-- Could you?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNever tried, 'til now.\n\t\t\t(suddenly)\n\t\tJoe, may I kiss you?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tWhy, yes. Thank you.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou're welcome.\n\n\tSusan reaches out for Joe, they kiss, he is awkward but his\n\tvery awkwardness endearing. Susan pulls him closer, they\n\t", "imately)\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI adore things like that....food I\n\t\tcan't do without. Don't you?\n\n\tJoe is locked on Susan, it is as if there is nobody else in the\n\troom.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes...\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt comforts you, doesn't it?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(captivated)\n\t\tYes", "\n\n\tJoe doesn't respond.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tSo you are married.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo, I'm not.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGirlfriend?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGay?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\tSusan comes closer to Joe.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n", "t know what else to say.\n\t\tIt's a helluva party --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou think so?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYeah...and you're the prettier\n\t\tthing here.\n\n\tSusan blinks, a long silence, she touches the sleeve of his\n\tjacket, now her hand traces the outline of his face, she\n\tregards him intently and the dilemma she has been struggling\n\twith the last moments fades away.\n\n\tSus", "behind him. Joe continues down the hall, enters the guest\n\twing.\n\n\tINT. GUEST SUITE, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tMidday sunlight streams into the sitting room, Joe passes\n\tthrough to his bedroom, sits tentatively on the bed, feels\n\tthe edge of the silk spread, touches the pillow, then rises\n\tagain, crosses back to the sitting room.\n\n\tSusan appears in the doorway, Joe suddenly senses her, turns\n\taround.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t", "hear that.\n\n\tHe starts up the stairs.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'll come down\n\n\tJoe waits guardedly at the bottom of the stairs as Parrish\n\tdescends.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tWhat's going on?\n\n\tJoe senses Parrish's tone, doesn't answer.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tI saw you kiss Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n", "know what I mean if I said I\n\t\tdon't think it's worth figuring out?\n\n\tSome realization is dawning on Susan, it renders her\n\tlightheaded.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\t...But now I'm back.\n\n\tSusan regards Joe intently, searching his face for an\n\tanswer.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tThat's it?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tWell, I don'", " In front of Coyle, an open jar of peanut but-\n\tter which he is spreading in generous hunks of Wonder Bread.\n\tJoe is fascinated by the process. Coyle suddenly hears the\n\tsilence, looks up and see Joe, standing up embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes, sir?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello. I'm Joe Black. Nice to meet\n\t\tyou.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes sir, Mr" ], [ "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "one of my favorites.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat would you say if you knew\n\t\tit was me who brought down Bill\n\t\tParrish?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI told Drew and the Board that Bill\n\t\tdepended on you. Drew led me on,\n\t\tbut I had no business telling him\n\t\tin the first place. He was setting\n\t\tup Bill from day one. Drew and\n\t\tBontecou are going to chop up the\n\t\tcompany", "while\n\t\tthe Bontecou sun was shining -- two,\n\t\tpossibly three new and boiling hot\n\t\tprospects for merger.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHow did Bill react to the leads\n\t\tyou've developed?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe was interested.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(prompting)\n\t\t-- But he was concerned about the\n\t\ttiming?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tThe timing", "to merge this corporation with\n\t\tBontecou International --\n\n\tParrish stands, Drew stops speaking.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\tSilence, then Joe rises.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tWho I am, and my relationship to\n\t\tBill, will be divulged in our own\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\tJoe follows Parrish out of the room.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, OUTSIDE BOARD RO", "\n\t\tThat's your privilege, Bill. But\n\t\tgiven our needs, given the absolute\n\t\tnecessity for growth, given the fu-\n\t\tture, the truth is... joining John\n\t\tBontecou is every bit as certain as -\n\t\tDeath and Taxes.\n\n\tJoe interjects:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Death and Taxes'?\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n", "\t\task Bill? What do you think?\n\n\tA moment, Parrish shrugs.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tOur first annual report, must be\n\t\tthirty-five years ago now, I owned\n\t\ttwo stations, I wrote down a state-\n\t\tment of purpose, that one day you\n\t\twould wake up to a Parrish radio\n\t\tstation, read a Parrish paper at\n\t\tbreakfast, catch our news on tele-\n\t\tvision during the day, and go to bed\n", "'t you know what this'll mean?\n\t\tYou'll be rich. You'll sell your\n\t\tstock, you can stop kissing ass --\n\t\tWhat'll it feel like to be a man?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI don't want to get rich this way --\n\t\tI'm going to expose you.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tGo right ahead. Tell William\n\t\tParrish how you betrayed him at\n\t\ta secret Board meeting. And tell", "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBill's birthday is the day after\n\t\ttomorrow. There is a provisory by-\n\t\tlaw in our charter. Per the discre-\n\t\ttion of the Board, Corporate off-\n\t\ticers can be retired at age sixty-\n\t\tfive.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're taking this too far, Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAm I not obligated to?\n\n\tDrew le", "ouse function, the President had\n\t\tyou on his right and you know where\n\t\tI was?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm sorry, I don't recall --\n\n\t\t\t BONTECOU\n\t\tLeft field somewhere. Well, Bill, I\n\t\twant to come in from the outfield,\n\t\tbat cleanup like you have, learn the\n\t\tplush ropes --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI thought you were buying my company.\n\n\t\t\t B", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "him as to how we think the\n\t\tcompany might proceed. Won't you\n\t\tshare with our Board the information\n\t\tyou gave me last night?\n\n\tQuince hesitates, then realizes what Drew has on his mind.\n\tHe nods confidently to Drew, then turns importantly to the\n\tBoard.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, I'm happy to tell you I've got\n\t\tgood news. As I was telling Drew,\n\t\tI've been making a little hay", "We're all here, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI appreciate this, Eddie, members\n\t\tof the Board, this will just take a\n\t\tminute of your time. As the custo-\n\t\tdians of the company, you may re-\n\t\tceive information from what follows\n\t\tthat is valuable to you --\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t-- or not. Either way, thanks.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE (O.S.)\n\t\t\t(speakerphone)", "offer.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tAlthough it pains me to say it, in\n\t\tmy opinion Bill Parrish dealt with\n\t\tus peremptorily in dismissing any\n\t\tdeal with Bontecou. Therefore, I'm\n\t\tsorry to say that if we are to exam-\n\t\tine this new offer responsibly as\n\t\tthe Board of Directors of Parrish\n\t\tCommunications, we must do so with-\n\t\tout its Chairman.\n\t\t\t(another moment)", "\t\tsides in his office. Never leaves\n\t\this side. And, in my opinion, is\n\t\talways in his ear. Telling him what\n\t\tto do and Bill is listening. Who is\n\t\tJoe Black? What is his relationship\n\t\tto Bill Parrish? And most important,\n\t\twhat is behind his influence on our\n\t\tChairman?\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're building this thing up too\n\t\tmuch, Drew. He's", "\n\t\tI don't want anybody buying up my\n\t\tlife's work and turning it into\n\t\tsomething it wasn't meant to be. A\n\t\tman wants to leave something behind.\n\t\tAnd he wants it left behind the way\n\t\the made it. And he wants it to be\n\t\trun the way he run it -- with a sense\n\t\tof honor, of dedication, of truth.\n\t\tOkay?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tOkay.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t", "\n\t\tI'm doing great. You ready?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI am, this is it. B Day.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow's that, Quince?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBontecou Day. Going to close\n\t\twith Big John -- Look at you, Bill,\n\t\tall cool as a cat and over at\n\t\tBontecou's, I'll bet he's shitting\n\t\tin his pants.", "REW\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tHow nice for you both.\n\n\tDrew takes a moment, then plunges in.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tBill, pardon my candor, but I was\n\t\tconfounded by your decision this\n\t\tmorning.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI was hired, you told me, to help\n\t\tbring Parrish Communications into\n\t\tthe" ], [ "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "'ll give you the name of a\n\t\tdoctor.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...And I don't want to examine you.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tWhy not?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tBecause I like you so much. Now\n\t\tI've got to go.\n\n\tShe hurries away down the sidewalk, the Young Man watching\n\ther. Now he turns and starts off in the opposite direction.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE - SUSAN", " PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not taking Susan anywhere.\n\t\tAnd what the hell does that mean\n\t\tanyway?\n\n\tJoe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tI thought we had a deal.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSusan is my daughter, she has a\n\t\twonderful life ahead of her and\n\t\tyou're going to dep", "--\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tSpeak up, please.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(louder)\n\t\tWhen I introduce you, if I say who\n\t\tyou are, I don't think anyone will\n\t\tstay for dinner.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThen don't.\n\n\tINT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tAs Parrish and the Young Man enter, Allison is heard in the\n\tbackground.\n", "\tHello, how nice to meet you. And\n\t\twouldn't it be nicer if my father\n\t\twould introduce you?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t\t(to Allison)\n\t\t'...How nice to meet you.'\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tOh, I'm sorry. This is my daughter,\n\t\tAllison, and her husband, Quince,\n\t\tDrew, my number one, works with me...\n\n\tParrish drifts off as the", "\n\t\tGood night to you, Bill.\n\n\tParrish gently closes the door.\n\n\tJoe looks around, checks out his surroundings: curious,\n\tattentive.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, unsteady, starts back down the hall, Luisa appears.\n\n\t\t\t LUISA\n\t\t...Miss Allison asked if you would\n\t\tlike to have your dinner kept warm?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo", "USAN\n\t\tFunny, I don't get that feeling.\n\t\tMaybe it's because you found out\n\t\tI'm Bill Parrish's daughter.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut it out, Susan.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tYou and I've got to talk. Big day\n\t\ttomorrow, everybody. Joe, let's go.\n\n\tJoe rises, follows Parrish to the door, stops:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t", "I never heard her speak of any man\n\t\tas she spoke of you -- It was always\n\t\twhat I wanted for her -- but what\n\t\thappens to her now?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't worry about it, Bill.\n\t\tThese things have a way of working\n\t\tout.\n\n\tJoe regards Parrish, waits until he has a sense that Parrish\n\thas accepted what Joe has said, then Joe continues:\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd", "\n\n\tShe looks back at the Young Man, then turns and walks on.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE - THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tHe looks back at Susan as the distance between them widens,\n\tnow he turns and walks on.\n\n\tON SUSAN\n\n\tShe looks around once more but the Young Man is still headed\n\tin the opposite direction, his back to her. She turns the\n\tcorner and continues on.\n\n\tON THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tApproaching the corner, he looks back for Susan yet", "I'll tell you.\n\t\tYou're looking at a man who tonight\n\t\tis not about to walk through the\n\t\tValley of the Shadow of Death, he's\n\t\tgalloping into it. And the same time,\n\t\tthe business he built with his own\n\t\thands and his own head is being\n\t\tcommandeered by a couple of cheap\n\t\tpirates. And, oh yes, I almost\n\t\tforgot, my daughter's fallen in\n\t\tlove with Death.\n\n\tAnother", "the Young Man's presence has been acknowledged by\n\tLuisa. The Young Man interjects:\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t\t(to Luisa)\n\t\tYes.\n\t\t\t(a polite afterthought)\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\tLuisa nods perfunctorily and exits. Parrish is frozen,\n\tdumbfounded.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tWhere is dinner?", "ows embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tGood morning, I was talking kind of\n\t\tloud there, sorry.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all. It was fascinating.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tOh yeah? What was 'fascinating'\n\t\tabout it?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou and 'Honey'?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tMy kid sister. She just broke", "\tThe Young Man smiles.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tSo if I needed a doctor, you could\n\t\tbe it?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI could be her.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t'Her'.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYes, I could.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI have an office in the hospital.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t-- This is", "unds...\n\n\tParrish and the Young Man appear at the table, an awkward\n\tpause ensues, the unannounced guest's presence at a family\n\tdinner being noted, and the guest himself carefully survey-\n\ted. Finally, Allison breaks the ice:\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to the Young Man)\n\t\tHi there --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHello.\n\n\tParrish is horribly uncomfortable as the Young Man looks at\n\t", "ad to hear it!\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tLet's go.\n\n\tShe takes Susan's arm and marches her off, Joe, in thrall,\n\twatches them go as the MUSIC erupts behind them, as 'up'\n\tdance tune, a lilting, catchy melody envelops them all. The\n\tcurtain has risen on William Parrish's 65th birthday party.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE -", "\n\tThe group waits patiently.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tJoe!\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tJoe...\n\n\tParrish once more drifts into silence. (The YOUNG MAN is now\n\tidentified as \"JOE\".)\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tJust plain 'Joe'?\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tLove that name.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tMe, too", "\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't you feel that way?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t...We know so little about each\n\t\tother.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBut we've got time.\n\n\tShe searches the Young Man's eyes, his face is open,\n\tcompletely vulnerable, waiting for her response. A long\n\tsilence, the words come out haltingly:\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI wish", "continue on into a break-\n\tfast room where SUSAN, 30, Parrish's younger daughter, is\n\tgrazing at a table laden with cereals and fruits and coffee.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGood morning, Dad.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHi, honey.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tI'm Allison, you're 'honey'.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(smiling", "up at the ceiling and\n\tfinally, exhausted, falls back asleep.\n\n\tEXT. REAR TERRACE, PARRISH COUNTRY ESTATE - NEXT MORNING\n\n\tThe great lawn infested with workmen, planting stakes, un-\n\trolling a huge canvas tent, gardeners fashioning topiary and\n\tadding landscaping of their own, crews setting up platforms,\n\tspeakers, lights. Ubiquitous is ALLISON, 35, Parrish's\n\tolder daughter, foremen competing for her", " YOUNG MAN\n\t\tY'didn't?\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI said I liked you so much.\n\n\tShe falls silent now, overcome by the last moments'\n\trevelations. The Young Man senses her discomfort which\n\tis on the edge of pain.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, everything's going great --\n\t\tdon't y'think?\n\n\tShe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t" ], [ "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "has comprehended. He surveys the Young Man who, at this\n\tmoment, actually seems bewildered by his effect.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're Death?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDeath!\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThat's me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not Death. You're just a kid\n\t\t", "I'll tell you.\n\t\tYou're looking at a man who tonight\n\t\tis not about to walk through the\n\t\tValley of the Shadow of Death, he's\n\t\tgalloping into it. And the same time,\n\t\tthe business he built with his own\n\t\thands and his own head is being\n\t\tcommandeered by a couple of cheap\n\t\tpirates. And, oh yes, I almost\n\t\tforgot, my daughter's fallen in\n\t\tlove with Death.\n\n\tAnother", "ans over to Felicia, speaks quietly and she leaves\n\tthe room.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tHow did this all come about? Crisis\n\t\t-- Bill Parrish, crisis -- his com-\n\t\tpany, crisis for us. I came about\n\t\twith the arrival on the scene of --\n\t\tMr. Joe Black. Mr. Joe who? Joe\n\t\tBlack. He attends our Board meet-\n\t\tint, he sleeps at Bill's house, re-\n", "are --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t \t(urging again)\n\t\t'...Yes --'\n\n\tParrish turns away. But the Young Man, spectacularly, is in\n\tfront of him again.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tWho am I?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Death.\n\n\tParrish is shocked, stunned, terrified at the word, by what\n\the", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "'.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'Yes' to the deal?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMaybe, who knows? You know how\n\t\tvoices are. Let's go.\n\n\tQuince comes running up now.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHi, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tGood morning, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow're you doing--?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH", "Yes...\n\n\tIt is unmistakably a Voice, it is not the wind, Parrish has\n\theard something, he looks around, but no one is there. He\n\tcan't finish peeing, turns back to his bedroom. All beweild-\n\tered, Parrish looks around once more, climbs back into bed,\n\ttrying to trace the source of what he has heard or hasn't\n\theard; he is not sure.\n\n\tHe pulls the covers up now, not a SOUND, tries to close his\n", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", " In front of Coyle, an open jar of peanut but-\n\tter which he is spreading in generous hunks of Wonder Bread.\n\tJoe is fascinated by the process. Coyle suddenly hears the\n\tsilence, looks up and see Joe, standing up embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes, sir?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello. I'm Joe Black. Nice to meet\n\t\tyou.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes sir, Mr", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", ", in a pained reflex, again turns and looks\n\tup towards the hill. There is nobody there. She hesitates,\n\tnow glides away from the party, her step quickens as she\n\twalks up towards the hill.\n\n\tSusan halts, in the distance a figure is approaching from\n\tover the crest of the hill where Joe and Parrish disappeared.\n\tHe is heading straight for her, she tries to make him out,\n\tseems to recognize him, starts to walk towards him as if\n\tpulled by a magnet", "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "\n\t\tGood night to you, Bill.\n\n\tParrish gently closes the door.\n\n\tJoe looks around, checks out his surroundings: curious,\n\tattentive.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, unsteady, starts back down the hall, Luisa appears.\n\n\t\t\t LUISA\n\t\t...Miss Allison asked if you would\n\t\tlike to have your dinner kept warm?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo", "some reassuring comment to Quince\n\twhen the Voice suddenly intrudes:\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\t'...I know, it's none of my\n\t\tbusiness.'\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI was saying to Quince we won't\n\t\tneed --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDid you just hear something?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tWhy yes, Bill, I was saying", "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", "for a moment, his\n\teyes searching the room for the Voice, the timbre and pitch\n\tof which is exactly what he has heard before. There is the\n\tsense that someone is there but Parrish cannot see him, and\n\the does not dare look.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tWhere are you?\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (V.O.)\n\t\tI'm here.\n\n\tNow a flicker of a shadow from behind a corner of the obscured\n" ], [ "I'll tell you.\n\t\tYou're looking at a man who tonight\n\t\tis not about to walk through the\n\t\tValley of the Shadow of Death, he's\n\t\tgalloping into it. And the same time,\n\t\tthe business he built with his own\n\t\thands and his own head is being\n\t\tcommandeered by a couple of cheap\n\t\tpirates. And, oh yes, I almost\n\t\tforgot, my daughter's fallen in\n\t\tlove with Death.\n\n\tAnother", "has comprehended. He surveys the Young Man who, at this\n\tmoment, actually seems bewildered by his effect.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're Death?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDeath!\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThat's me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not Death. You're just a kid\n\t\t", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "ans over to Felicia, speaks quietly and she leaves\n\tthe room.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tHow did this all come about? Crisis\n\t\t-- Bill Parrish, crisis -- his com-\n\t\tpany, crisis for us. I came about\n\t\twith the arrival on the scene of --\n\t\tMr. Joe Black. Mr. Joe who? Joe\n\t\tBlack. He attends our Board meet-\n\t\tint, he sleeps at Bill's house, re-\n", "are --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t \t(urging again)\n\t\t'...Yes --'\n\n\tParrish turns away. But the Young Man, spectacularly, is in\n\tfront of him again.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tWho am I?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Death.\n\n\tParrish is shocked, stunned, terrified at the word, by what\n\the", " In front of Coyle, an open jar of peanut but-\n\tter which he is spreading in generous hunks of Wonder Bread.\n\tJoe is fascinated by the process. Coyle suddenly hears the\n\tsilence, looks up and see Joe, standing up embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes, sir?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello. I'm Joe Black. Nice to meet\n\t\tyou.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYes sir, Mr", "ad to hear it!\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tLet's go.\n\n\tShe takes Susan's arm and marches her off, Joe, in thrall,\n\twatches them go as the MUSIC erupts behind them, as 'up'\n\tdance tune, a lilting, catchy melody envelops them all. The\n\tcurtain has risen on William Parrish's 65th birthday party.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE -", "field thing of all time. What do I\n\t\tdo? What do I tell my family?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tOh, I wouldn't tell them anything,\n\t\tBill. You'll ruin the good start we\n\t\thad last night. I felt as if I were\n\t\tbeing treated like a person. 'Joe'\n\t\tthis and 'Joe' that - a nice smile\n\t\t- Quince passed me the rolls -- no\n\t\t'rapture' or 'passion' or any of", "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "\n\t\tWe're all ears.\n\n\tDrew enters with Quince, Quince nods, excusing himself, and\n\tcloses the door behind him.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHi, Bill, happy birthday --\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tI just wanted to say how appre-\n\t\tciative I am of this - uh - grand\n\t\tgesture and --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tShut up and sit down", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "'.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'Yes' to the deal?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMaybe, who knows? You know how\n\t\tvoices are. Let's go.\n\n\tQuince comes running up now.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHi, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tGood morning, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow're you doing--?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "\n\t\tThat's your privilege, Bill. But\n\t\tgiven our needs, given the absolute\n\t\tnecessity for growth, given the fu-\n\t\tture, the truth is... joining John\n\t\tBontecou is every bit as certain as -\n\t\tDeath and Taxes.\n\n\tJoe interjects:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Death and Taxes'?\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", "to merge this corporation with\n\t\tBontecou International --\n\n\tParrish stands, Drew stops speaking.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\tSilence, then Joe rises.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tWho I am, and my relationship to\n\t\tBill, will be divulged in our own\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\tJoe follows Parrish out of the room.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, OUTSIDE BOARD RO" ], [ "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're putting me on the spot, Bill.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tLet's put it this way. When I go,\n\t\tyou go.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhen you go, I go.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's the best I can do.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...but minute-by-minute, I find\n\t\tmyself ling", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tUh -- he's from out of town --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow long you here, Joe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAs long as it takes.\n\n\tDrew is provoked by the response, but remains polite:\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou and Bill old friends?\n\n\tParrish jumps in:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "in a jacket and a pair of pants.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThe jacket and the pair of pants\n\t\tcame with the body I took. Let me\n\t\task your opinion. Do I blend in?\n\n\tA hopelessly confused Parrish does not respond for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou want me to be your guide --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou fill the bill, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t", "\n\t\tGood night to you, Bill.\n\n\tParrish gently closes the door.\n\n\tJoe looks around, checks out his surroundings: curious,\n\tattentive.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, unsteady, starts back down the hall, Luisa appears.\n\n\t\t\t LUISA\n\t\t...Miss Allison asked if you would\n\t\tlike to have your dinner kept warm?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "\n\t\tThat's your privilege, Bill. But\n\t\tgiven our needs, given the absolute\n\t\tnecessity for growth, given the fu-\n\t\tture, the truth is... joining John\n\t\tBontecou is every bit as certain as -\n\t\tDeath and Taxes.\n\n\tJoe interjects:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Death and Taxes'?\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n", "-\n\t\tgratulations. Now multiply it by\n\t\tinfinity and take it to the depth\n\t\tof forever, and you still will\n\t\thave barely a glimpse of what I\n\t\tam talking about.\n\n\tParrish falls silent, chewing over Joe's admonition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe --?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow about giving a guy a break?\n\n\t\t\t ", "'.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'Yes' to the deal?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMaybe, who knows? You know how\n\t\tvoices are. Let's go.\n\n\tQuince comes running up now.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHi, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tGood morning, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow're you doing--?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH", ". And\n\t\tyet he has combatted them stoically,\n\t\tand selflessly, without revealing my\n\t\tidentity. Had he violated the vow\n\t\tof secrecy he took, his task would\n\t\thave been far easier, he could have\n\t\tturned defeat into victory, but he\n\t\tis too honorable a man to have done\n\t\tthat. And now I must release him\n\t\tfrom that vow. Because of me, he\n\t\thas lost his work, his company, his\n\t\treput", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", "\n\t\tI'm doing great. You ready?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI am, this is it. B Day.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow's that, Quince?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBontecou Day. Going to close\n\t\twith Big John -- Look at you, Bill,\n\t\tall cool as a cat and over at\n\t\tBontecou's, I'll bet he's shitting\n\t\tin his pants." ], [ "offer.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tAlthough it pains me to say it, in\n\t\tmy opinion Bill Parrish dealt with\n\t\tus peremptorily in dismissing any\n\t\tdeal with Bontecou. Therefore, I'm\n\t\tsorry to say that if we are to exam-\n\t\tine this new offer responsibly as\n\t\tthe Board of Directors of Parrish\n\t\tCommunications, we must do so with-\n\t\tout its Chairman.\n\t\t\t(another moment)", "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "one of my favorites.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat would you say if you knew\n\t\tit was me who brought down Bill\n\t\tParrish?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI told Drew and the Board that Bill\n\t\tdepended on you. Drew led me on,\n\t\tbut I had no business telling him\n\t\tin the first place. He was setting\n\t\tup Bill from day one. Drew and\n\t\tBontecou are going to chop up the\n\t\tcompany", "\t\tsides in his office. Never leaves\n\t\this side. And, in my opinion, is\n\t\talways in his ear. Telling him what\n\t\tto do and Bill is listening. Who is\n\t\tJoe Black? What is his relationship\n\t\tto Bill Parrish? And most important,\n\t\twhat is behind his influence on our\n\t\tChairman?\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're building this thing up too\n\t\tmuch, Drew. He's", "\n\t\tOh yes, there is one additional\n\t\telement: Bontecou is so anxious to\n\t\tget us, he said he'd take Parrish\n\t\tCommunications with our Chairman or\n\t\twithout.\n\n\tThe Board falls silent. Sloane, a peer of Parrish's,\n\tfidgets. Drew milks the moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'D)\n\t\tIt's no surprise if I suggest to you\n\t\tthat the Bill Parrish we know is not", ". We will of\n\t\tcourse delay the announcement, out\n\t\tof respect for our former Chairman,\n\t\tuntil after the celebration of his\n\t\tbirthday this weekend.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you for allowing me to save\n\t\tface, Drew.\n\n\tJoe's eyes are riveted on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tThe other motion before us is the\n\t\tacceptance of John Bontecou's offer\n\t\t", "\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBill's birthday is the day after\n\t\ttomorrow. There is a provisory by-\n\t\tlaw in our charter. Per the discre-\n\t\ttion of the Board, Corporate off-\n\t\ticers can be retired at age sixty-\n\t\tfive.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're taking this too far, Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAm I not obligated to?\n\n\tDrew le", "to merge this corporation with\n\t\tBontecou International --\n\n\tParrish stands, Drew stops speaking.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\tSilence, then Joe rises.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tWho I am, and my relationship to\n\t\tBill, will be divulged in our own\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\tJoe follows Parrish out of the room.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, OUTSIDE BOARD RO", "\n\tThe Board meeting has broken up, clusters of members have\n\tlingered, exchanging post-mortems. And enraged Quince has\n\tcornered Drew, out of earshot of the others.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat have you done? You've gotten\n\t\tthe old man fired!\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThat we did. Thanks to you. He was\n\t\twobbling, mind you, but you stupid\n\t\tthe coup de grace.\n\n", "'t you know what this'll mean?\n\t\tYou'll be rich. You'll sell your\n\t\tstock, you can stop kissing ass --\n\t\tWhat'll it feel like to be a man?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI don't want to get rich this way --\n\t\tI'm going to expose you.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tGo right ahead. Tell William\n\t\tParrish how you betrayed him at\n\t\ta secret Board meeting. And tell", ".\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE (O.S.)\n\t\tYou're meeting with the Board right\n\t\tnow, Drew. Resignation accepted.\n\t\tMoreover, I propose a motion to re-\n\t\tconfirm William Parrish as Chairman\n\t\tof the Board of Parrish Communica-\n\t\ttions as well as a rejection of the\n\t\tmerger with Bontecou International.\n\t\tHow say you, Board?\n\n\tA chorus of thunderous \"Yes\"es resounds through the\n", "\n\n\tSilence, Parrish carefully calibrating Drew's remark.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhose?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYours.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm feeling real uncomfortable right\n\t\tnow because the guy who reports to\n\t\tme is threatening me.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI'm just giving you the truth. There\n\t\twas a time when William Parrish liked\n\t\tthe truth.\n", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "had advisors be-\n\t\tfore. Nobody tells Bill what to do.\n\n\tThe door opens and Felicia enters followed by Quince, sur-\n\tprised at seeing a convened Board, but still he is all smiles.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThank you for coming.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tHello, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHi, Ed, hi folks, I didn't know\n\t\teverybody was going to be here, what\n\t\t", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "\t\twhat do you think, is it --\n\t\t\t(indicates Drew and\n\t\t\t Parrish)\n\t\t-- just the 'Executive Committee' or\n\t\tcould you guys use me?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tQuince, m'man, thanks for the offer,\n\t\tbut it's all set for just me and Bill.\n\t\tMore people might --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI know. Gum up the works.\n\n\tParrish is about to make", "REW\n\t\tMandatory retirement upon our\n\t\tChairman's sixty-fifth birthday.\n\n\tParrish is expressionless.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tAt which time, the Chairman will be\n\t\tnamed Emeritus, he will be welcome\n\t\tto attend all meetings, and will\n\t\tserve as International Spokesman for\n\t\tthe corporation plus, of course, a\n\t\tsettlement, a golden parachute of\n\t\tsuch magnitude that his feet will\n\t\t", "All of a sudden a guy appears on the\n\t\tscene with the Chairman of one of\n\t\tthe greatest communications corpora-\n\t\ttions of the world, the boss makes\n\t\thim privy to all the company's\n\t\tsecrets, he attends the Board meet-\n\t\tings, and us working stiffs with\n\t\tMBA's up the ass and years and years\n\t\tand years of experience, we're left\n\t\toutside with our noses pressed\n\t\tagainst the window.\n\n\tJoe doesn'", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "\n\t\tMay I remind you this is not just a\n\t\tdispute with a putative suitor, this\n\t\tis me. So watch it...Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut the 'Bill' crap out -- you\n\t\tsonofabitch.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI told you, 'watch it'.\n\n\tSilence. Now Joe turns on his heel, heads right out the\n\tfront door. Parrish is left solitary, confounded, staring\n\tat the" ], [ " He feels himself being\n\tlured by some power he has not only never been aware of, but\n\tis deeply dangerous to partake of; he knows what he is doing\n\tis putting who he is at great risk, yet he goes right on.\n\tThe powerful contradiction is transmitted to Susan, and in\n\tthe end there is the knowledge they have together made a\n\tjourney, they both have been swept away in a stream of events\n\tthey have created; and they don't care about the consequences.\n\n\tSpent, they lie in silence. Finally Susan", "I'll tell you.\n\t\tYou're looking at a man who tonight\n\t\tis not about to walk through the\n\t\tValley of the Shadow of Death, he's\n\t\tgalloping into it. And the same time,\n\t\tthe business he built with his own\n\t\thands and his own head is being\n\t\tcommandeered by a couple of cheap\n\t\tpirates. And, oh yes, I almost\n\t\tforgot, my daughter's fallen in\n\t\tlove with Death.\n\n\tAnother", "\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t'No regrets'.\n\n\tA long silence, Susan smiles.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's a good feeling, isn't it?\n\n\tSilence again.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tEverybody's saying goodbye...\n\n\tThey regard each other, a long pause, they have reached an\n\tunderstanding.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm still here.\n\t\t\t", "has comprehended. He surveys the Young Man who, at this\n\tmoment, actually seems bewildered by his effect.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're Death?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDeath!\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThat's me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not Death. You're just a kid\n\t\t", "\n\t\tit scared you.\n\n\tSusan holds herself very still.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd forgive me for saying this --\n\t\tbut then you said -- and it's been\n\t\twith me ever since --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat has --?\n\n\tHe hesitates.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou said you liked me.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t", ", in a pained reflex, again turns and looks\n\tup towards the hill. There is nobody there. She hesitates,\n\tnow glides away from the party, her step quickens as she\n\twalks up towards the hill.\n\n\tSusan halts, in the distance a figure is approaching from\n\tover the crest of the hill where Joe and Parrish disappeared.\n\tHe is heading straight for her, she tries to make him out,\n\tseems to recognize him, starts to walk towards him as if\n\tpulled by a magnet", "from the party, up a meadow that leads to a hill overlooking\n\tthe river.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tDown below, the party guests' faces are lit by the initial\n\tfireworks display. Among them is Susan, but her interest\n\tisn't there. Not something pulls her attention, an over-\n\tpowering feeling that compels her to turn and see, at a\n\tdistance, Parrish and Joe walking away up the meadow. Some-\n\tthing about the sight saddens and at the same time fright", "imately)\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI adore things like that....food I\n\t\tcan't do without. Don't you?\n\n\tJoe is locked on Susan, it is as if there is nobody else in the\n\troom.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes...\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt comforts you, doesn't it?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(captivated)\n\t\tYes", "\n\t\tTo bed.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(suddenly fragile)\n\t\t'To bed'?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes. I'm tired.\n\n\tHe excuses himself with an ineffable gesture, now climbs the\n\tstairs, Susan watches him disappear.\n\n\tShe turns back into the salon just as Allison and Quince are\n\texiting, \"good-byes\" all around. Susan is left alone now\n\twith Parrish who is fixing a", " PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not taking Susan anywhere.\n\t\tAnd what the hell does that mean\n\t\tanyway?\n\n\tJoe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tI thought we had a deal.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSusan is my daughter, she has a\n\t\twonderful life ahead of her and\n\t\tyou're going to dep", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tBrave you had a chance to look at\n\t\tDad's rare books? Jefferson's\n\t\tParliamentary Manual, a first\n\t\tedition Bleak House --\n\n\tJoe comes closer, takes a deep breath.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love your smell.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- I guess you haven't.\n\n\tNow Susan, close to Joe, leans closer, her nose in Joe's\n\tneck", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWell, they're mine now.\n\n\tJoe is silent for a moment, cogitating.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tSusan wants to come. She says she's\n\t\tin love with me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWith you?! Who is 'you'? Did you\n\t\ttell her who you are?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDoes", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "gone out of him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd you said you didn't want me to\n\t\tbe your doctor because you didn't\n\t\twant me to examine you --?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tWell, I got to examine you after\n\t\tall --\n\n\tJoe blinks, at a loss.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI could come with you --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI - uh --", "\t\t-- And I have no regrets.\n\n\tSusan is in pain now, she can't summon an answer.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd I want you to feel that way,\n\t\ttoo.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI love you, Daddy --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThat's why it's okay.\n\n\tThey drift into silence.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tNo regrets?", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't I?\n\n\tHer question makes Joe, almost involuntarily, smile. Susan\n\ttakes the opportunity to step back from him. The SOUND of\n\tsomeone at the door, it is Parrish, Susan turns, comprehends\n\timmediately how the situation will appear to him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGoodnight, Daddy.\n\n\tShe drifts right past him, exits. Joe and Parrish are left\n\talone now, eyes on", "\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't you feel that way?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t...We know so little about each\n\t\tother.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBut we've got time.\n\n\tShe searches the Young Man's eyes, his face is open,\n\tcompletely vulnerable, waiting for her response. A long\n\tsilence, the words come out haltingly:\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI wish", "\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou want me to wait for you, you'll\n\t\tbe back --\n\n\tJoe doesn't answer, Susan is suddenly anxious.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWhy do I want this night to last\n\t\tforever?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tDon't you know, that's what I want\n\t\tmore than anything.\n\n\tHe touches her face.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou said before", "\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tCalm down, Daddy, you'll see, you're\n\t\tgoing to love it.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIsn't it enough to be on this earth\n\t\tsixty-five years without having to\n\t\tbe reminded of it.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tNo.\n\n\tAllison goes, Susan observes Parrish fidgeting.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWill you relax? I know it is", "I mean that you knew\n\t\ther and everything --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI didn't know her. The body I took\n\t\tknew her. The man she met in the\n\t\tcoffee shop this morning. I - uh -\n\t\ttook him.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSo there's nothing between you and\n\t\tSusan?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI wish you had" ], [ "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're putting me on the spot, Bill.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tLet's put it this way. When I go,\n\t\tyou go.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhen you go, I go.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's the best I can do.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...but minute-by-minute, I find\n\t\tmyself ling", "I never heard her speak of any man\n\t\tas she spoke of you -- It was always\n\t\twhat I wanted for her -- but what\n\t\thappens to her now?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't worry about it, Bill.\n\t\tThese things have a way of working\n\t\tout.\n\n\tJoe regards Parrish, waits until he has a sense that Parrish\n\thas accepted what Joe has said, then Joe continues:\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\n\t\tMay I remind you this is not just a\n\t\tdispute with a putative suitor, this\n\t\tis me. So watch it...Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut the 'Bill' crap out -- you\n\t\tsonofabitch.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI told you, 'watch it'.\n\n\tSilence. Now Joe turns on his heel, heads right out the\n\tfront door. Parrish is left solitary, confounded, staring\n\tat the", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "for loving me.\n\n\tShe smiles wanly, Joe leaves her.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish is seated by the window, lights from the party\n\tflashing past, the MUSIC and laughter audible but muted,\n\tthe fever of the celebration lost on him, within himself.\n\n\tJoe enters, Parrish looks up.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t...We should think about getting\n\t\tstarted, Bill.\n\n\t", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "I'll tell you.\n\t\tYou're looking at a man who tonight\n\t\tis not about to walk through the\n\t\tValley of the Shadow of Death, he's\n\t\tgalloping into it. And the same time,\n\t\tthe business he built with his own\n\t\thands and his own head is being\n\t\tcommandeered by a couple of cheap\n\t\tpirates. And, oh yes, I almost\n\t\tforgot, my daughter's fallen in\n\t\tlove with Death.\n\n\tAnother", "\n\t\tI'm doing great. You ready?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI am, this is it. B Day.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow's that, Quince?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBontecou Day. Going to close\n\t\twith Big John -- Look at you, Bill,\n\t\tall cool as a cat and over at\n\t\tBontecou's, I'll bet he's shitting\n\t\tin his pants.", "\t\tings and spending the rest of your\n\t\tlife living up to them. And above\n\t\tall, not hurting the object of your\n\t\tlove.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tSo that's what love is?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMultiply it by infinity and take it\n\t\tto the death of forever and you will\n\t\tstill have barely a glimpse of what\n\t\tI am talking about.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThose were my words, Bill.", "\tI do?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tHow long will you be staying?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou should hope quite a while.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAnd then --?\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, gently.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tIt's... it's... over.\n\n\tA long silence. Parrish and the Young Man take each other in,\n\tthe sense that now they understand each other.", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAre you sad, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes, I am. There's a research lib-\n\t\trary on the fourth floor. Why don't\n\t\tyou go down and read some magazines?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're not thinking of going some-\n\t\twhere, are you, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe, could I ask you to take a walk?\n\t\tBuy a", "\n\t\tGood night to you, Bill.\n\n\tParrish gently closes the door.\n\n\tJoe looks around, checks out his surroundings: curious,\n\tattentive.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, unsteady, starts back down the hall, Luisa appears.\n\n\t\t\t LUISA\n\t\t...Miss Allison asked if you would\n\t\tlike to have your dinner kept warm?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo", "\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t'No regrets'.\n\n\tA long silence, Susan smiles.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's a good feeling, isn't it?\n\n\tSilence again.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tEverybody's saying goodbye...\n\n\tThey regard each other, a long pause, they have reached an\n\tunderstanding.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm still here.\n\t\t\t" ], [ "\n\tsmiles back. Now she heads out with the crowd for the\n\tfireworks. When Parrish senses she is on her way, he turns\n\tand heads up towards Joe.\n\n\tJoe rises to meet Parrish as he approaches.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHappy Birthday, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\tThey watch the guests gathering to view the fireworks.\n\tJoe's gaze lingers.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'", "\t\tThe fireworks are about to start.\n\n\tParrish looks up, sees Joe up on the terrace, waiting.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tShall we?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou go ahead, honey, I'm going to\n\t\tcatch my breath.\n\n\tSuddenly he hugs her, holds her very close. She looks at\n\thim, he smiles, nods, but doesn't release her until she", "ens\n\ther, she turns back to the party, dazed, tracing on the\n\tfireworks.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tUp the hill Parrish's step slows, Joe slowing with him.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm getting a little dizzy, I can\n\t\tfeel my heart pumping --\n\n\tBut Parrish doesn't wait for a response, just continues on\n\tup the meadow, towards the rise of the hill, Joe in step\n\twith him.\n\n", "Joe, you don't know how glad I am\n\t\tyou're aboard. Anybody who can take\n\t\tsome of the weight off the old man,\n\t\tI'm in his corner.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's very gracious of you, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tNo problem. I'll leave you two\n\t\talone. I can tell you guys have\n\t\tsomething on the fire --\n\n\tAn excited Quince drains his drink and heads for", "\t\tHow about you telling me? When I\n\t\task a simple question, I expect a\n\t\tstraight answer. That's what I'm\n\t\tused to. Anybody who doesn't give\n\t\tit to me, I fire.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAre you going to fire me, Bill?\n\n\tSilence, Parrish is at a loss.\n\n\tINT. FOYER - NIGHT\n\n\tDrew is putting on his coat, Susan with him, a tension between\n\tthem", "from the party, up a meadow that leads to a hill overlooking\n\tthe river.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tDown below, the party guests' faces are lit by the initial\n\tfireworks display. Among them is Susan, but her interest\n\tisn't there. Not something pulls her attention, an over-\n\tpowering feeling that compels her to turn and see, at a\n\tdistance, Parrish and Joe walking away up the meadow. Some-\n\tthing about the sight saddens and at the same time fright", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tShould I be afraid?\n\n\tJoe stops, Parrish stops with him.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNot a man like you.\n\n\tParrish smiles faintly, takes a deep breath, he strides\n\tout again, Joe right with him. In tandem they continue\n\ton and disappear over the crest of the hill. A barrage\n\tof fireworks lights up the sky.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tDown below, Susan", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're putting me on the spot, Bill.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tLet's put it this way. When I go,\n\t\tyou go.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhen you go, I go.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's the best I can do.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...but minute-by-minute, I find\n\t\tmyself ling", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", ". Black, a pleasure.\n\n\tThe staff all mumble expansive \"Good evening, sir\"s to Joe.\n\tHe motions to them to sit, they do but Coyle does not. Coyle\n\tshifts from foot-to-foot, the staff is not used to having\n\tParrish family or guests in this part of the house.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to Coyle)\n\t\tWhat are you eating.\n\n\t\t\t COYLE\n\t\tYou mean this, sir?\n\n\tCoyle", "\n\tM E E T J O E B L A C K\n\n\tScreenplay by Bo Goldman\n\n\t--------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\tEXT. ANNANDALE-ON-HUDSON, N.Y. - 4:00 AM\n\n\tA patch of water. PULL BACK TO REVEAL more water. BACK\n\tFARTHER TO REVEAL an expanse of river, up the bank to\n\tmassive lawn running up to a great, classic Hudson River\n\tmanor house; the country estate of William Parr", "each other's.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(carefully)\n\t\tHello. Would you like to join me,\n\t\tQuince and Allison for a nightcap?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tUm -- not right now.\n\n\tAn awkward moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tOkay. Goodnight.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGoodnight.\n\n\tParrish turns and", ",\n\tJoe right behind them.\n\n\tEXT. LAWNS, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tThe guests have formed themselves into a huge audience, the\n\torchestra strikes up \"Happy Birthday\" as Parrish appears\n\twith Allison. An enormous cake is unveiled with one great,\n\tlit candle, Parrish beams then laughs. He pauses over the\n\tcake, now blows the candle out. APPLAUSE, cries of \"Speech!\n\tSpeech!\", Parr", " JOE\n\t\tBill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou've got a deal.\n\n\tParrish seems relieved. He has now, with some difficulty,\n\tcompleted the tying of Joe's tie, adjusts it beautifully on\n\tJoe's collar, then spins him around in front of a mirror.\n\tJoe, catching sight of his own appearance, rises to the\n\tballs of his feet, quite taken.\n\n\t\t\t ", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tUh -- he's from out of town --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow long you here, Joe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAs long as it takes.\n\n\tDrew is provoked by the response, but remains polite:\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou and Bill old friends?\n\n\tParrish jumps in:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "-\n\t\tgratulations. Now multiply it by\n\t\tinfinity and take it to the depth\n\t\tof forever, and you still will\n\t\thave barely a glimpse of what I\n\t\tam talking about.\n\n\tParrish falls silent, chewing over Joe's admonition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe --?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow about giving a guy a break?\n\n\t\t\t ", "for loving me.\n\n\tShe smiles wanly, Joe leaves her.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish is seated by the window, lights from the party\n\tflashing past, the MUSIC and laughter audible but muted,\n\tthe fever of the celebration lost on him, within himself.\n\n\tJoe enters, Parrish looks up.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t...We should think about getting\n\t\tstarted, Bill.\n\n\t", "\tHave you got a minute?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNot much more. Big day in the big\n\t\tcity. What's on your mind?\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tFireworks. Update -- we're con-\n\t\tstructing the number '65' on the\n\t\tbarge, archers from the State\n\t\tCollege at New Paltz will shoot\n\t\tflaming arrows at it, when it\n\t\tcatches fire it will give us the\n\t\teffect", "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know" ], [ ", in a pained reflex, again turns and looks\n\tup towards the hill. There is nobody there. She hesitates,\n\tnow glides away from the party, her step quickens as she\n\twalks up towards the hill.\n\n\tSusan halts, in the distance a figure is approaching from\n\tover the crest of the hill where Joe and Parrish disappeared.\n\tHe is heading straight for her, she tries to make him out,\n\tseems to recognize him, starts to walk towards him as if\n\tpulled by a magnet", "\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt'll come back, Daddy.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWill it?...\n\n\tParrish looking around, searching for words he will not find.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tAnyway, I'd like to go on but...\n\n\tHe hesitates, drifts into silence.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(tentatively)\n\t\tDaddy, you could sit down if you\n\t\tw", "\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t'No regrets'.\n\n\tA long silence, Susan smiles.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's a good feeling, isn't it?\n\n\tSilence again.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tEverybody's saying goodbye...\n\n\tThey regard each other, a long pause, they have reached an\n\tunderstanding.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm still here.\n\t\t\t", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "\n\tup from below, the night fills with light. The Young Man\n\tsearches Susan's face, now takes her hand -- and together\n\tthey start back towards the party.\n\n\tTHE END\n\n", "\n\t\tTo bed.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(suddenly fragile)\n\t\t'To bed'?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes. I'm tired.\n\n\tHe excuses himself with an ineffable gesture, now climbs the\n\tstairs, Susan watches him disappear.\n\n\tShe turns back into the salon just as Allison and Quince are\n\texiting, \"good-byes\" all around. Susan is left alone now\n\twith Parrish who is fixing a", ". Now she stops again. It is a man, he\n\tkeeps coming, and now that he is close and recognizes him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe...?\n\n\tHe smiles quizzically, hasn't quite heard her, stands right\n\tin front of her, loose, smiling, disoriented and yet so\n\tappealing. They are riveted on each other, uneasy and yet\n\tclose.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're here...\n\n\t", "Susan sneak furtive looks at each\n\tother across the pool, smile at catching each other's\n\tglances. Joe exits. For a moment Susan's eyes remain on\n\tthe door through which he has gone. Now she grips the towel\n\tover her shoulders, the one Joe gave her, pats the same spot\n\the did.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NEXT MORNING\n\n\tParrish, dressed for the day", " He feels himself being\n\tlured by some power he has not only never been aware of, but\n\tis deeply dangerous to partake of; he knows what he is doing\n\tis putting who he is at great risk, yet he goes right on.\n\tThe powerful contradiction is transmitted to Susan, and in\n\tthe end there is the knowledge they have together made a\n\tjourney, they both have been swept away in a stream of events\n\tthey have created; and they don't care about the consequences.\n\n\tSpent, they lie in silence. Finally Susan", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't I?\n\n\tHer question makes Joe, almost involuntarily, smile. Susan\n\ttakes the opportunity to step back from him. The SOUND of\n\tsomeone at the door, it is Parrish, Susan turns, comprehends\n\timmediately how the situation will appear to him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGoodnight, Daddy.\n\n\tShe drifts right past him, exits. Joe and Parrish are left\n\talone now, eyes on", " Susan cuts past a re-\n\tceiving line that files up the stairs, she skirts the house\n\tand heads straight for the action, the party on the lawns in\n\tthe rear, climbs a terrace where she commands a view of the\n\tevent on which the curtain is just about to rise.\n\n\tEXT. LAWN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tGuests milling, emerging from the crowd Susan sees, isolated\n\tby a fountain, Joe. He looks up towards her, he knows she\n\thas seen him", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tBrave you had a chance to look at\n\t\tDad's rare books? Jefferson's\n\t\tParliamentary Manual, a first\n\t\tedition Bleak House --\n\n\tJoe comes closer, takes a deep breath.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love your smell.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- I guess you haven't.\n\n\tNow Susan, close to Joe, leans closer, her nose in Joe's\n\tneck", "\t\tWhat an angry fellow.\n\n\tA moment passes before Susan realizes she and Joe are alone,\n\tand Joe does as well.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI'm sorry about --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tPlease. We don't need to talk about\n\t\tDrew.\n\n\tShe regards Joe.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNo. We don't.\n\n\tThey drift, osmotically, into the library in awkward silence.\n\n\t\t\t ", "\n\t\tit scared you.\n\n\tSusan holds herself very still.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd forgive me for saying this --\n\t\tbut then you said -- and it's been\n\t\twith me ever since --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat has --?\n\n\tHe hesitates.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou said you liked me.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t", "and forth in her seat,\n\tin great pain.\n\n\t\t\t TEENA\n\t\t\t(urgently)\n\t\tMiss? Miss Doctor?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tJust a minute, please.\n\n\t\t\t TEENA\n\t\tPlease. My momma's sicker'n he\n\t\tis.\n\n\tEaster looks up and sees Joe. She abruptly becomes still,\n\teyes wide, as if sudden recognition.\n\n\t\t\t ", "behind him. Joe continues down the hall, enters the guest\n\twing.\n\n\tINT. GUEST SUITE, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tMidday sunlight streams into the sitting room, Joe passes\n\tthrough to his bedroom, sits tentatively on the bed, feels\n\tthe edge of the silk spread, touches the pillow, then rises\n\tagain, crosses back to the sitting room.\n\n\tSusan appears in the doorway, Joe suddenly senses her, turns\n\taround.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t", "emerges from it,\n\tapproaches Parrish and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tHello, Beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tHi.\n\n\tDrew kisses her, over her shoulder he glances at Parrish.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tGood morning, Drew. Thanks for\n\t\tcoming out.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tWell, it's a big day. Wanted to\n\t\t", "\n\n\tShe looks back at the Young Man, then turns and walks on.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE - THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tHe looks back at Susan as the distance between them widens,\n\tnow he turns and walks on.\n\n\tON SUSAN\n\n\tShe looks around once more but the Young Man is still headed\n\tin the opposite direction, his back to her. She turns the\n\tcorner and continues on.\n\n\tON THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tApproaching the corner, he looks back for Susan yet", "\t\t ALLISON (O.S.)\n\t\tThere you are!\n\n\tAllison appears.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON (cont'd)\n\t\tWhat's going on here? Tete-a-tetes\n\t\ton my big night?\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tC'mon honey, you're needed.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tCan it wait?\n\n\tBut before he can answer --\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON (cont'd)\n\t\tGl", "center and runs right into Susan,\n\tcouples swirl about them, the eye of a storm of gaiety.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tHello, Joe. What'd you know?\n\n\tShe smiles.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tThere's something so indescribably\n\t\tsexy about you in a crowd. I could\n\t\tmake love to you right here.\n\n\tHe hesitates, reaches out to take her hand, studies it.\n\n\t\t\t " ], [ "\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tCalm down, Daddy, you'll see, you're\n\t\tgoing to love it.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIsn't it enough to be on this earth\n\t\tsixty-five years without having to\n\t\tbe reminded of it.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tNo.\n\n\tAllison goes, Susan observes Parrish fidgeting.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWill you relax? I know it is", "REW\n\t\tMandatory retirement upon our\n\t\tChairman's sixty-fifth birthday.\n\n\tParrish is expressionless.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tAt which time, the Chairman will be\n\t\tnamed Emeritus, he will be welcome\n\t\tto attend all meetings, and will\n\t\tserve as International Spokesman for\n\t\tthe corporation plus, of course, a\n\t\tsettlement, a golden parachute of\n\t\tsuch magnitude that his feet will\n\t\t", ",\n\tJoe right behind them.\n\n\tEXT. LAWNS, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tThe guests have formed themselves into a huge audience, the\n\torchestra strikes up \"Happy Birthday\" as Parrish appears\n\twith Allison. An enormous cake is unveiled with one great,\n\tlit candle, Parrish beams then laughs. He pauses over the\n\tcake, now blows the candle out. APPLAUSE, cries of \"Speech!\n\tSpeech!\", Parr", "ad to hear it!\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tLet's go.\n\n\tShe takes Susan's arm and marches her off, Joe, in thrall,\n\twatches them go as the MUSIC erupts behind them, as 'up'\n\tdance tune, a lilting, catchy melody envelops them all. The\n\tcurtain has risen on William Parrish's 65th birthday party.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE -", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", ".\"\n\t\t\t(another moment)\n\t\tSixty-five years - don't they go by\n\t\tin a blink?\n\n\tParrish hesitates, waves and steps away, APPLAUSE that grows\n\tinto CHEERS, the music resumes, another dance tune. Quince\n\tgrabs him, pumps his hand and claps him on the back. Now\n\tParrish spots Allison, he wraps her in a tight embrace, they\n\thold each other close for a moment, but then are separated\n\t", "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "wanted for my birthday --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHey, there's lots to come.\n\t\t\t(gesturing to me\n\t\t\t activity)\n\t\tA little excess -- like you love.\n\n\tThe preparations are building to a climax, all the elaborate\n\tplans coming to fruition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou know, darling, this is going to\n\t\tbe a wonderful party.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tYes", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "ish tries to demur but the request becomes\n\tloud and rhythmic, he holds up his hand, nods, quiets the\n\tcrowd. Joe observes from the fringe.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(to the guests)\n\t\tI thought I was going to sneak away\n\t\ttonight...\n\n\tYELLS of \"No!\" \"Never!\"\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\t...What a glorious night, every\n\t\tface I see is a memory", "\n\tsmiles back. Now she heads out with the crowd for the\n\tfireworks. When Parrish senses she is on her way, he turns\n\tand heads up towards Joe.\n\n\tJoe rises to meet Parrish as he approaches.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHappy Birthday, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\tThey watch the guests gathering to view the fireworks.\n\tJoe's gaze lingers.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'", "up at the ceiling and\n\tfinally, exhausted, falls back asleep.\n\n\tEXT. REAR TERRACE, PARRISH COUNTRY ESTATE - NEXT MORNING\n\n\tThe great lawn infested with workmen, planting stakes, un-\n\trolling a huge canvas tent, gardeners fashioning topiary and\n\tadding landscaping of their own, crews setting up platforms,\n\tspeakers, lights. Ubiquitous is ALLISON, 35, Parrish's\n\tolder daughter, foremen competing for her", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", "of a Viking funeral with none\n\t\tof the morbidity... The Hudson River\n\t\tAuthority says, for you, they'll\n\t\tmake a special dispensation - of\n\t\tcourse there'll be an overtime bill\n\t\tfor the Poughkeepsie Fire Dept...\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAllison, I trust you. This is your\n\t\tthing.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tBut it's your birthday.\n\n\tParrish smiles complaisantly, they", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", "\n\t\tI'm doing great. You ready?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI am, this is it. B Day.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow's that, Quince?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tBontecou Day. Going to close\n\t\twith Big John -- Look at you, Bill,\n\t\tall cool as a cat and over at\n\t\tBontecou's, I'll bet he's shitting\n\t\tin his pants.", "\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes, the big 'celebration' of my\n\t\tmandatory retirement birthday.\n\t\tYou're an honored guest, Eddie.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tI'm going to stick it out here. We\n\t\tstill have a shot.\n\n\tThe elevator door opens, Parrish and Joe step inside and the\n\tdoor closes, leaving Sloane behind.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, PARRISH COMMUNICATIONS - DAY\n", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "ESTATE - AFTERNOON\n\n\tThe Parrish AStar sets down in its roped-off landing area.\n\tThe Butler runs towards it to open the door, Parrish and\n\tJoe disembark. Following the Butler, they make their way\n\tthrough the maelstrom: tents being raised, platforms for\n\tmusic groups, portable pools with clusters of florists\n\tleaning over the edge to arrange lily pads within. Parrish\n\tand Joe move solemnly, observing the activity, not speaking\n", "\n\t\tWe're all ears.\n\n\tDrew enters with Quince, Quince nods, excusing himself, and\n\tcloses the door behind him.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHi, Bill, happy birthday --\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tI just wanted to say how appre-\n\t\tciative I am of this - uh - grand\n\t\tgesture and --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tShut up and sit down" ], [ " PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not taking Susan anywhere.\n\t\tAnd what the hell does that mean\n\t\tanyway?\n\n\tJoe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tI thought we had a deal.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSusan is my daughter, she has a\n\t\twonderful life ahead of her and\n\t\tyou're going to dep", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tBrave you had a chance to look at\n\t\tDad's rare books? Jefferson's\n\t\tParliamentary Manual, a first\n\t\tedition Bleak House --\n\n\tJoe comes closer, takes a deep breath.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love your smell.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- I guess you haven't.\n\n\tNow Susan, close to Joe, leans closer, her nose in Joe's\n\tneck", "USAN\n\t\tFunny, I don't get that feeling.\n\t\tMaybe it's because you found out\n\t\tI'm Bill Parrish's daughter.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut it out, Susan.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tYou and I've got to talk. Big day\n\t\ttomorrow, everybody. Joe, let's go.\n\n\tJoe rises, follows Parrish to the door, stops:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t", "continue on into a break-\n\tfast room where SUSAN, 30, Parrish's younger daughter, is\n\tgrazing at a table laden with cereals and fruits and coffee.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGood morning, Dad.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHi, honey.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tI'm Allison, you're 'honey'.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(smiling", "\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tCalm down, Daddy, you'll see, you're\n\t\tgoing to love it.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIsn't it enough to be on this earth\n\t\tsixty-five years without having to\n\t\tbe reminded of it.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tNo.\n\n\tAllison goes, Susan observes Parrish fidgeting.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWill you relax? I know it is", "\tNo, it's none of your business.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDo you love Drew?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou mean like you loved Mom?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tForget about me and Mom -- are you\n\t\tgoing to marry him?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tProbably.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(smiles)\n\t\tDon't", "\n\t\tTo bed.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(suddenly fragile)\n\t\t'To bed'?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes. I'm tired.\n\n\tHe excuses himself with an ineffable gesture, now climbs the\n\tstairs, Susan watches him disappear.\n\n\tShe turns back into the salon just as Allison and Quince are\n\texiting, \"good-byes\" all around. Susan is left alone now\n\twith Parrish who is fixing a", "ows embarrassedly.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tGood morning, I was talking kind of\n\t\tloud there, sorry.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all. It was fascinating.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tOh yeah? What was 'fascinating'\n\t\tabout it?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou and 'Honey'?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tMy kid sister. She just broke", "\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't you feel that way?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t...We know so little about each\n\t\tother.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBut we've got time.\n\n\tShe searches the Young Man's eyes, his face is open,\n\tcompletely vulnerable, waiting for her response. A long\n\tsilence, the words come out haltingly:\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI wish", "t care if you love him! I'm\n\t\ttelling you he's no good for you!\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tOf course not, Daddy. I'm sorry.\n\n\tThere is something in Susan's tone that lets him know not a\n\tword has sunk in. Parrish slumps.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI love you, too.\n\n\tShe kisses Parrish, rearranges one of his ranks of", "\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt'll come back, Daddy.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWill it?...\n\n\tParrish looking around, searching for words he will not find.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tAnyway, I'd like to go on but...\n\n\tHe hesitates, drifts into silence.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(tentatively)\n\t\tDaddy, you could sit down if you\n\t\tw", "at it. One\n\t\tgirlfriend wasn't enough for him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tSo you're a one-girl guy?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tDamn right. Looking for her right\n\t\tnow. Who knows? You might be her.\n\n\tSusan laughs.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, don't laugh. I just arrived\n\t\tin town, got a new job -- I", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou were just curious?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI guess...\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAbout Susan?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't put it that way.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat way would you put it?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou tell me, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n", "'ll give you the name of a\n\t\tdoctor.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...And I don't want to examine you.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tWhy not?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tBecause I like you so much. Now\n\t\tI've got to go.\n\n\tShe hurries away down the sidewalk, the Young Man watching\n\ther. Now he turns and starts off in the opposite direction.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE - SUSAN", "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t'Love will find out the way'.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Love will find out the way'?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt's a saying.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI believe that, don't you?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYes, that's why I said it.\n\n\tThey are on the brink of some decision, Joe is about to make\n\tsome declaration when Allison is heard --\n\n\t", "ad to hear it!\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tLet's go.\n\n\tShe takes Susan's arm and marches her off, Joe, in thrall,\n\twatches them go as the MUSIC erupts behind them, as 'up'\n\tdance tune, a lilting, catchy melody envelops them all. The\n\tcurtain has risen on William Parrish's 65th birthday party.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE -", "\tThe Young Man smiles.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tSo if I needed a doctor, you could\n\t\tbe it?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI could be her.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t'Her'.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYes, I could.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tI have an office in the hospital.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t-- This is", "wrong with taking care of a\n\t\twoman? She takes care of you.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou'll have a hard time finding a\n\t\twoman like that these days --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou never know. Lightning could\n\t\tstrike.\n\n\tSusan at the door now, pauses abruptly, her eyes on the\n\tYoung Man.\n\n\tEXT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tThe", " Susan cuts past a re-\n\tceiving line that files up the stairs, she skirts the house\n\tand heads straight for the action, the party on the lawns in\n\tthe rear, climbs a terrace where she commands a view of the\n\tevent on which the curtain is just about to rise.\n\n\tEXT. LAWN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tGuests milling, emerging from the crowd Susan sees, isolated\n\tby a fountain, Joe. He looks up towards her, he knows she\n\thas seen him", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR" ], [ "USAN\n\t\tFunny, I don't get that feeling.\n\t\tMaybe it's because you found out\n\t\tI'm Bill Parrish's daughter.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut it out, Susan.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tYou and I've got to talk. Big day\n\t\ttomorrow, everybody. Joe, let's go.\n\n\tJoe rises, follows Parrish to the door, stops:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t", " PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not taking Susan anywhere.\n\t\tAnd what the hell does that mean\n\t\tanyway?\n\n\tJoe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tI thought we had a deal.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry, Bill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSusan is my daughter, she has a\n\t\twonderful life ahead of her and\n\t\tyou're going to dep", "t care if you love him! I'm\n\t\ttelling you he's no good for you!\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tOf course not, Daddy. I'm sorry.\n\n\tThere is something in Susan's tone that lets him know not a\n\tword has sunk in. Parrish slumps.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI love you, too.\n\n\tShe kisses Parrish, rearranges one of his ranks of", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou were just curious?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI guess...\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAbout Susan?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't put it that way.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat way would you put it?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou tell me, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n", "\tNo, it's none of your business.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDo you love Drew?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou mean like you loved Mom?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tForget about me and Mom -- are you\n\t\tgoing to marry him?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tProbably.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(smiles)\n\t\tDon't", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tBrave you had a chance to look at\n\t\tDad's rare books? Jefferson's\n\t\tParliamentary Manual, a first\n\t\tedition Bleak House --\n\n\tJoe comes closer, takes a deep breath.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love your smell.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- I guess you haven't.\n\n\tNow Susan, close to Joe, leans closer, her nose in Joe's\n\tneck", "SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't I?\n\n\tHer question makes Joe, almost involuntarily, smile. Susan\n\ttakes the opportunity to step back from him. The SOUND of\n\tsomeone at the door, it is Parrish, Susan turns, comprehends\n\timmediately how the situation will appear to him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tGoodnight, Daddy.\n\n\tShe drifts right past him, exits. Joe and Parrish are left\n\talone now, eyes on", "\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tDon't you feel that way?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t...We know so little about each\n\t\tother.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBut we've got time.\n\n\tShe searches the Young Man's eyes, his face is open,\n\tcompletely vulnerable, waiting for her response. A long\n\tsilence, the words come out haltingly:\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI wish", "I never heard her speak of any man\n\t\tas she spoke of you -- It was always\n\t\twhat I wanted for her -- but what\n\t\thappens to her now?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't worry about it, Bill.\n\t\tThese things have a way of working\n\t\tout.\n\n\tJoe regards Parrish, waits until he has a sense that Parrish\n\thas accepted what Joe has said, then Joe continues:\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd", "\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt'll come back, Daddy.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWill it?...\n\n\tParrish looking around, searching for words he will not find.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tAnyway, I'd like to go on but...\n\n\tHe hesitates, drifts into silence.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\t\t(tentatively)\n\t\tDaddy, you could sit down if you\n\t\tw", "She walks up to him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tHow long have you been standing\n\t\tthere?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI don't like the way Drew spoken to\n\t\tyou. But I feel better about it now\n\t\tbecause of the way you spoke back.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tTell me about yourself, Joe. Who\n\t\tyou are. What you're doing with my\n\t\tfather.\n\n\tSusan'", "\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tCalm down, Daddy, you'll see, you're\n\t\tgoing to love it.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIsn't it enough to be on this earth\n\t\tsixty-five years without having to\n\t\tbe reminded of it.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tNo.\n\n\tAllison goes, Susan observes Parrish fidgeting.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWill you relax? I know it is", "\t\tfather.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI haven't been the father to you\n\t\tthat --\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tThat you've been to Susan?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI wasn't going to say --\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tBut that's what you were thinking.\n\t\tAnd that's okay. Because I know you\n\t\tlove me. Not like it is with Susan,\n\t\tthe way your eyes light up", "(a moment)\n\t\tWould you like to dance with me,\n\t\tSusan?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tOh, yes --\n\n\tHe starts to lead her to the floor, immediately stops.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIf you don't mind dancing with an\n\t\told fogey like me.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tOh, Dad, you're not old. You'll\n\t\tnever be old.\n\n\tHe takes her in his arms and they dance", "get carried away.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tUh oh --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSusan, you're a hell of a woman.\n\t\tYou've got a great career, you're\n\t\tbeautiful --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd I'm your daughter and no man\n\t\twill ever be good enough for me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWell, I wasn't going to say that --\n\n\t\t\t S", "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t'Love will find out the way'.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Love will find out the way'?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt's a saying.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI believe that, don't you?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYes, that's why I said it.\n\n\tThey are on the brink of some decision, Joe is about to make\n\tsome declaration when Allison is heard --\n\n\t", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "never leaves it, you clearly\n\t\ttrust him, depend on him, I sense\n\t\tyou value him deeply, why aren't\n\t\tthose things good enough for me?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou don't know anything about Joe --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat are you afraid of, Dad? That\n\t\tI'll fall head over heels for Joe --\n\t\twell, I have -- as you did with Mom.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tThat's always been", "s not so much what you say\n\t\tabout Drew, it's what you don't say.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou're not listening --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tOh yes, I am. Not an ounce of\n\t\texcitement, not a whisper of a\n\t\tthrill, this relationship has all\n\t\tthe passion of a pair of titmice.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tDon't get dirty, Dad --\n\n\t\t\t ", " YOUNG MAN\n\t\tY'didn't?\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI said I liked you so much.\n\n\tShe falls silent now, overcome by the last moments'\n\trevelations. The Young Man senses her discomfort which\n\tis on the edge of pain.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, everything's going great --\n\t\tdon't y'think?\n\n\tShe doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t" ], [ "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd I said you'd have a hard time\n\t\tfinding a woman like that.\n\n\tJoe shifts, she smiles at his embarrasement.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, you've found one, Joe.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThe 'coffee shop' --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- That was the place... and you were\n\t\tthe guy.\n\n\tJoe seems resigned now, the air", "an slowly realizes this is the Young Man. She is shaken,\n\ta sudden intake of breath.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, you all right?\n\n\tHis hand politely touches her elbow, courteously lending her\n\tsupport.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tThe coffee shop --\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, pleased with her recognition.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tI asked you if I said something\n\t\twrong and you said it was so right", "'Closed'? He nods and she closes it.\n\tUtter silence again. Parrish's eyes search the room, nothing\n\tthere.\n\n\tINT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE, DAY\n\n\tThe place has cleared out now, the counterman busy bussing\n\ttables laden with dishes and cups, Susan and the Young Man\n\tare still at the counter, but about to leave.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...It's kind of a pro", "wrong with taking care of a\n\t\twoman? She takes care of you.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou'll have a hard time finding a\n\t\twoman like that these days --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou never know. Lightning could\n\t\tstrike.\n\n\tSusan at the door now, pauses abruptly, her eyes on the\n\tYoung Man.\n\n\tEXT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tThe", "my lucky day. I arrive\n\t\tin this big bad city and I not only\n\t\tfind a doctor, a beautiful woman as\n\t\twell.\n\n\tSusan looks into her coffee.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI'm sorry, you mind my saying that?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHow 'bout another cup of coffee?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI", "I mean that you knew\n\t\ther and everything --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI didn't know her. The body I took\n\t\tknew her. The man she met in the\n\t\tcoffee shop this morning. I - uh -\n\t\ttook him.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSo there's nothing between you and\n\t\tSusan?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tNo.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI wish you had", ". Now she stops again. It is a man, he\n\tkeeps coming, and now that he is close and recognizes him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe...?\n\n\tHe smiles quizzically, hasn't quite heard her, stands right\n\tin front of her, loose, smiling, disoriented and yet so\n\tappealing. They are riveted on each other, uneasy and yet\n\tclose.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're here...\n\n\t", "\n\t\t\t(lightly)\n\t\tWe've met.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?!\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- This morning. The Corinth Coffee\n\t\tShop. He was looking for a doctor.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, I guess he's found one.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tJoe, you do get around.\n\n\tJoe is happily confounded by all the interaction.\n\n\t\t\t ", "want\n\t\tyou to be my doctor. Because I\n\t\tdon't want you to examine me.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBecause I like you so much.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tYou have coffee here every morning,\n\t\tdon't you? If I came by, could you\n\t\tgive me the name of a doctor?\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tSure, I", "d)\n\t\tJoe's not around.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\tSusan seems distracted.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tWhy are you looking for Joe?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tBecause I was sitting in a staff\n\t\tmeeting, incredibly bored, my mind\n\t\tkept wandering and the only place it\n\t\tlanded was", "\n\n\tShe looks back at the Young Man, then turns and walks on.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE - THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tHe looks back at Susan as the distance between them widens,\n\tnow he turns and walks on.\n\n\tON SUSAN\n\n\tShe looks around once more but the Young Man is still headed\n\tin the opposite direction, his back to her. She turns the\n\tcorner and continues on.\n\n\tON THE YOUNG MAN\n\n\tApproaching the corner, he looks back for Susan yet", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "A counterman,\n\twith a smile and a greeting, places a cup of coffee in front\n\tof her. A sense this is a daily ritual, arming herself for\n\tthe day; immediately she becomes aware of a man behind her\n\tspeaking into the pay phone.\n\n\tAn attractive YOUNG MAN, early 30's, a pair of suitcase at\n\this feet, a raincoat slung over his shoulder.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...Honey, you've got to go on...\n", " Susan cuts past a re-\n\tceiving line that files up the stairs, she skirts the house\n\tand heads straight for the action, the party on the lawns in\n\tthe rear, climbs a terrace where she commands a view of the\n\tevent on which the curtain is just about to rise.\n\n\tEXT. LAWN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tGuests milling, emerging from the crowd Susan sees, isolated\n\tby a fountain, Joe. He looks up towards her, he knows she\n\thas seen him", "at it. One\n\t\tgirlfriend wasn't enough for him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tSo you're a one-girl guy?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tDamn right. Looking for her right\n\t\tnow. Who knows? You might be her.\n\n\tSusan laughs.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, don't laugh. I just arrived\n\t\tin town, got a new job -- I", "MEDICAL CENTER - DAY\n\n\tThe busy medical community at 68th Street and New York Avenue.\n\n\tINT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, NEW YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tA thriving eatery diagonally across from the hospital's\n\tentrance, customers cheek-by-jowl as a pair of waiters\n\tjuggle breakfasts served to a noisy throng of doctors,\n\tresidents and interns.\n\n\tSusan has squeezed into a seat in the corner. ", "'ve got patients coming in --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tAnd I want to get into my apartment\n\t\tand go to work. Please, what do you\n\t\tsay, another cup of coffee?\n\n\tTwo pots are warming behind the counter, he reaches over and\n\trefills her cup and his. Pushes a container and pitcher to-\n\twards her.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI see you use lots of sugar and\n\t\tcream. ", "Joe goes.\n\n\tINT. EMERGENCY ROOM AREA, NEW YORK HOSPITAL - DAY\n\n\tSusan is busy giving instructions to a Nurse, a patient on\n\tan examining table beside them. As she finishes, she\n\tsuddenly notices Joe down the corridor in the reception\n\tarea. She is startled for the moment, quickly makes a last\n\tnotation, hands a chart to the Nurse and heads down the\n\tcorridor.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe", "up\n\t\twith her boyfriend and she's\n\t\tthinking about dropping out of\n\t\tlaw school.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI'm sorry --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tNothing to be sorry about. That's\n\t\tthe way with men and women, isn't\n\t\tit?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat's the way?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tNothing lasts.\n\n\t\t\t S", "that\n\t\tdegree, one day we'll hang out a\n\t\tshingle together... you bet, honey...\n\t\tlater.\n\n\tThe Young Man hangs up, turns around and sits down to an\n\toverflowing plate of eggs and meat, potatoes and toast, the\n\tcounterman refills his cup and the Young Man ties into the\n\tbreakfast, eating it with such relish that Susan can't take\n\ther eyes off him. He senses her eyes, glances over, his\n\tcheeks filled with a mouthful of food, swall" ], [ "an slowly realizes this is the Young Man. She is shaken,\n\ta sudden intake of breath.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, you all right?\n\n\tHis hand politely touches her elbow, courteously lending her\n\tsupport.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tThe coffee shop --\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, pleased with her recognition.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tI asked you if I said something\n\t\twrong and you said it was so right", "forward now, no\n\tlonger obscured by the glass he comes into the light, re-\n\tvealing himself to be the Young Man seen previously in the\n\tcoffee shop, but there is a change; he seems odd, off-\n\tcenter, not handsome but terrifyingly beautiful.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tA moment, Parrish beside himself. He cannot bring himself\n\tto speak, finally:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAm I dreaming this?\n\t\t\t", "'ve got patients coming in --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tAnd I want to get into my apartment\n\t\tand go to work. Please, what do you\n\t\tsay, another cup of coffee?\n\n\tTwo pots are warming behind the counter, he reaches over and\n\trefills her cup and his. Pushes a container and pitcher to-\n\twards her.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI see you use lots of sugar and\n\t\tcream. ", "in a jacket and a pair of pants.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThe jacket and the pair of pants\n\t\tcame with the body I took. Let me\n\t\task your opinion. Do I blend in?\n\n\tA hopelessly confused Parrish does not respond for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou want me to be your guide --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou fill the bill, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t", "my lucky day. I arrive\n\t\tin this big bad city and I not only\n\t\tfind a doctor, a beautiful woman as\n\t\twell.\n\n\tSusan looks into her coffee.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI'm sorry, you mind my saying that?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHow 'bout another cup of coffee?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI", "'Closed'? He nods and she closes it.\n\tUtter silence again. Parrish's eyes search the room, nothing\n\tthere.\n\n\tINT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE, DAY\n\n\tThe place has cleared out now, the counterman busy bussing\n\ttables laden with dishes and cups, Susan and the Young Man\n\tare still at the counter, but about to leave.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...It's kind of a pro", "A counterman,\n\twith a smile and a greeting, places a cup of coffee in front\n\tof her. A sense this is a daily ritual, arming herself for\n\tthe day; immediately she becomes aware of a man behind her\n\tspeaking into the pay phone.\n\n\tAn attractive YOUNG MAN, early 30's, a pair of suitcase at\n\this feet, a raincoat slung over his shoulder.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t...Honey, you've got to go on...\n", "\n\n\tParrish does not answer at first.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThis is crazy -- you're not going to\n\t\teat dinner with us.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBill, I am eating dinner with you.\n\t\tAnd your family. And that's what\n\t\twe're doing. It's not open for\n\t\tdiscussion. Nothing is. Don't\n\t\tyou understand?\n\n\tParrish is frightened by the response.\n\n", "(Another moment)\n\t\tAre you a dream?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tI am not a dream.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're coming to 'take me'. What is\n\t\tthat? Who the hell are you?\n\n\tThe Young Man steps closer to Parrish, his face is inches\n\tfrom a shaking, sweating Parrish's face, the Young Man\n\tdaring Parrish to identify him:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou", "wrong with taking care of a\n\t\twoman? She takes care of you.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou'll have a hard time finding a\n\t\twoman like that these days --\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou never know. Lightning could\n\t\tstrike.\n\n\tSusan at the door now, pauses abruptly, her eyes on the\n\tYoung Man.\n\n\tEXT. CORINTH COFFEE SHOP, YORK AVENUE - DAY\n\n\tThe", "\tI do?\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tHow long will you be staying?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYou should hope quite a while.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tAnd then --?\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, gently.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tIt's... it's... over.\n\n\tA long silence. Parrish and the Young Man take each other in,\n\tthe sense that now they understand each other.", "\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tGood. Now lead the way.\n\n\tParrish hesitates, then obediently leads the Young Man out\n\tof the library, down a long hallway and across the foyer.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tExcuse me? Could I say something?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tOf course.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tIt just occurred to me", "are --?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\t \t(urging again)\n\t\t'...Yes --'\n\n\tParrish turns away. But the Young Man, spectacularly, is in\n\tfront of him again.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\t\t(gently)\n\t\tWho am I?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Death.\n\n\tParrish is shocked, stunned, terrified at the word, by what\n\the", "revelatory of its sleeping\n\toccupant, WILLIAM PARRISH, 64, a warm but commanding face, a\n\tman of maturity yet who exudes a glow of enthusiasm.\n\n\tAlthough asleep, there is an uncommon restlessness to him.\n\tParrish grips his upper arm as if in pain. Now the severity\n\tof the pain wakes him, he squeezes his arm. The wind comes\n\tup, through the wind a VOICE is heard distantly, or is it the\n\twind itself:\n\n", "again,\n\tbut she is gone, still turned he steps off into the street\n\tand a hospital supplies truck, speeding down the curb lane,\n\tHITS HIM BROADSIDE, a horrific impact, the THUD echoes as\n\this body arcs through the air.\n\n\tAnother sickening THUD as it lands, the Young Man lies\n\tcrumpled, still.\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. SALON, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE, NEW YORK CITY - NIGHT", "\tVoice muting him. He takes a step backwards.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE (cont'd)\n\t\tWhere are you going?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI - I - uh --\n\n\tThe shape moves, makes itself more visible. Although still\n\tdiffused by the glass, the shape has definition, a person, a\n\tman, his features are not yet distinguishable, but he is\n\tthere all right.\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\tThe great Bill Parrish at a", "\n\t\t\t(lightly)\n\t\tWe've met.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?!\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- This morning. The Corinth Coffee\n\t\tShop. He was looking for a doctor.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, I guess he's found one.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tJoe, you do get around.\n\n\tJoe is happily confounded by all the interaction.\n\n\t\t\t ", "has comprehended. He surveys the Young Man who, at this\n\tmoment, actually seems bewildered by his effect.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're Death?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tDeath!\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tThat's me.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're not Death. You're just a kid\n\t\t", "want\n\t\tyou to be my doctor. Because I\n\t\tdon't want you to examine me.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tBecause I like you so much.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tYou have coffee here every morning,\n\t\tdon't you? If I came by, could you\n\t\tgive me the name of a doctor?\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tSure, I", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n" ], [ "\n\t\tOh yes, there is one additional\n\t\telement: Bontecou is so anxious to\n\t\tget us, he said he'd take Parrish\n\t\tCommunications with our Chairman or\n\t\twithout.\n\n\tThe Board falls silent. Sloane, a peer of Parrish's,\n\tfidgets. Drew milks the moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'D)\n\t\tIt's no surprise if I suggest to you\n\t\tthat the Bill Parrish we know is not", "\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBill's birthday is the day after\n\t\ttomorrow. There is a provisory by-\n\t\tlaw in our charter. Per the discre-\n\t\ttion of the Board, Corporate off-\n\t\ticers can be retired at age sixty-\n\t\tfive.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're taking this too far, Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAm I not obligated to?\n\n\tDrew le", "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\t\tsides in his office. Never leaves\n\t\this side. And, in my opinion, is\n\t\talways in his ear. Telling him what\n\t\tto do and Bill is listening. Who is\n\t\tJoe Black? What is his relationship\n\t\tto Bill Parrish? And most important,\n\t\twhat is behind his influence on our\n\t\tChairman?\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're building this thing up too\n\t\tmuch, Drew. He's", "\n\tThe Board meeting has broken up, clusters of members have\n\tlingered, exchanging post-mortems. And enraged Quince has\n\tcornered Drew, out of earshot of the others.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat have you done? You've gotten\n\t\tthe old man fired!\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThat we did. Thanks to you. He was\n\t\twobbling, mind you, but you stupid\n\t\tthe coup de grace.\n\n", ". We will of\n\t\tcourse delay the announcement, out\n\t\tof respect for our former Chairman,\n\t\tuntil after the celebration of his\n\t\tbirthday this weekend.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you for allowing me to save\n\t\tface, Drew.\n\n\tJoe's eyes are riveted on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tThe other motion before us is the\n\t\tacceptance of John Bontecou's offer\n\t\t", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "\n\t\tmore.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe, don't do this --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt's time to put this person where\n\t\the belongs.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's not necessary, Joe. Drew's\n\t\tgoing to step aside --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI'm not stepping anywhere --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI appreciate your gentlemanliness,\n\t\tBill, but", "\t\tNo lawyers, Drew. We're going to\n\t\toffer you a deal.\n\n\tDrew is all attention.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tConfess to the Board every details of\n\t\tyour participation and then submit\n\t\tyour resignation.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAnd what do I get?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou get not to go to jail.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou're talking through your", "\t\twhat do you think, is it --\n\t\t\t(indicates Drew and\n\t\t\t Parrish)\n\t\t-- just the 'Executive Committee' or\n\t\tcould you guys use me?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tQuince, m'man, thanks for the offer,\n\t\tbut it's all set for just me and Bill.\n\t\tMore people might --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI know. Gum up the works.\n\n\tParrish is about to make", ".\n\n\tDrew takes a seat.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're a worthless sack of shit, you\n\t\tfucked me over, played footsie with\n\t\tJohn Bontecou, sold my company out\n\t\tto line your own pockets.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI don't know where you get that idea\n\t\t-- the Board agreed --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe Board didn't know you're a mole\n\t", ".\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou're not familiar with the phrase,\n\t\t\"In this world, nothing is certain\n\t\tbut Death and Taxes\"?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI am now.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tGlad I could be of some help.\n\n\tThe Board is provoked and mystified by Joe and even more by\n\this presence, they cast meaningful glances at Parrish, Drew\n\tcoolly grasps the irritation of the members. ", "remains for us is to\n\t\tput it to a vote.\n\n\tSmiles and murmurs of a congratulatory receptiveness from\n\tthe Board at Drew's news.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(emptily)\n\t\tThank you, Drew.\n\n\tParrish takes a moment, draws himself up to say something\n\tofficial then stops himself, what follows is spontaneous,\n\treflective, deeply felt.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tUmm -- I", ".\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE (O.S.)\n\t\tYou're meeting with the Board right\n\t\tnow, Drew. Resignation accepted.\n\t\tMoreover, I propose a motion to re-\n\t\tconfirm William Parrish as Chairman\n\t\tof the Board of Parrish Communica-\n\t\ttions as well as a rejection of the\n\t\tmerger with Bontecou International.\n\t\tHow say you, Board?\n\n\tA chorus of thunderous \"Yes\"es resounds through the\n", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tUh -- he's from out of town --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow long you here, Joe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAs long as it takes.\n\n\tDrew is provoked by the response, but remains polite:\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou and Bill old friends?\n\n\tParrish jumps in:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "-- yes. He says it's up\n\t\tto Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe'?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tThat's what he said.\n\n\tQuince, having dispensed his information, looks proudly\n\taround at the Board members. They are stunned, Sloane in\n\tshock. Drew is absolutely still, letting Quince's words\n\tsink in.\n\n\tINT. DINING ROOM, PARRISH", "Parrish breaks\n\tthe silence.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tShall we adjourn?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBut the matter's still on the table,\n\t\tBill --\n\n\tEDWARD SLOANE, a contemporary of Parrish's, has been warily\n\tsilent, but extremely observant. Protective of Parrish, and\n\tsensing his burgeoning difficulty, he interrupts:\n\n\t\t\tSLOANE\n\t\tWhy don'", "\n\t\tthe Bill Parrish you saw yesterday.\n\t\tYou heard that speech -- some strange\n\t\temotional rationale to buttress a\n\t\tknee-jerk rejection of a legitimate\n\t\toffer. Does it not strike you that\n\t\tsomething is possibly affecting this\n\t\tman's judgement? More specifically\n\t\t-- his judgement to make a critical\n\t\tbusiness decision?\n\n\tSilence, the Board clocking Drew's argument.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'D)", "offer.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tAlthough it pains me to say it, in\n\t\tmy opinion Bill Parrish dealt with\n\t\tus peremptorily in dismissing any\n\t\tdeal with Bontecou. Therefore, I'm\n\t\tsorry to say that if we are to exam-\n\t\tine this new offer responsibly as\n\t\tthe Board of Directors of Parrish\n\t\tCommunications, we must do so with-\n\t\tout its Chairman.\n\t\t\t(another moment)" ], [ "W (cont'd)\n\t\tThe lack of response, Bill, is not\n\t\tappropriate. We are your Board, we\n\t\thave a right to know how you are\n\t\tmanaging the operations of this\n\t\tcompany, and most importantly, that\n\t\tyou have not delegated someone to do\n\t\tit for you.\n\n\tParrish squirms, desperately uncomfortable but still does\n\tnot speak.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay, one more time.\n\n\tDrew regards", "\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBill's birthday is the day after\n\t\ttomorrow. There is a provisory by-\n\t\tlaw in our charter. Per the discre-\n\t\ttion of the Board, Corporate off-\n\t\ticers can be retired at age sixty-\n\t\tfive.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're taking this too far, Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAm I not obligated to?\n\n\tDrew le", "\n\t\tOh yes, there is one additional\n\t\telement: Bontecou is so anxious to\n\t\tget us, he said he'd take Parrish\n\t\tCommunications with our Chairman or\n\t\twithout.\n\n\tThe Board falls silent. Sloane, a peer of Parrish's,\n\tfidgets. Drew milks the moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'D)\n\t\tIt's no surprise if I suggest to you\n\t\tthat the Bill Parrish we know is not", "\t\tsides in his office. Never leaves\n\t\this side. And, in my opinion, is\n\t\talways in his ear. Telling him what\n\t\tto do and Bill is listening. Who is\n\t\tJoe Black? What is his relationship\n\t\tto Bill Parrish? And most important,\n\t\twhat is behind his influence on our\n\t\tChairman?\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tYou're building this thing up too\n\t\tmuch, Drew. He's", ". We will of\n\t\tcourse delay the announcement, out\n\t\tof respect for our former Chairman,\n\t\tuntil after the celebration of his\n\t\tbirthday this weekend.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you for allowing me to save\n\t\tface, Drew.\n\n\tJoe's eyes are riveted on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tThe other motion before us is the\n\t\tacceptance of John Bontecou's offer\n\t\t", "himself, hails partygoers as he passes, Quince enjoying the\n\tirony.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThis is damn big of Bill, I also\n\t\tthink it's smart.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHe had no choice. You're a\n\t\tformidable adversary.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tHe said that?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, you've got him by the short-\n\t\thairs", "\t\twhat do you think, is it --\n\t\t\t(indicates Drew and\n\t\t\t Parrish)\n\t\t-- just the 'Executive Committee' or\n\t\tcould you guys use me?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tQuince, m'man, thanks for the offer,\n\t\tbut it's all set for just me and Bill.\n\t\tMore people might --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tI know. Gum up the works.\n\n\tParrish is about to make", "\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tUh -- he's from out of town --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHow long you here, Joe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tAs long as it takes.\n\n\tDrew is provoked by the response, but remains polite:\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou and Bill old friends?\n\n\tParrish jumps in:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "\n\t\tmore.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe, don't do this --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt's time to put this person where\n\t\the belongs.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tIt's not necessary, Joe. Drew's\n\t\tgoing to step aside --\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI'm not stepping anywhere --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI appreciate your gentlemanliness,\n\t\tBill, but", "\n\tThe Board meeting has broken up, clusters of members have\n\tlingered, exchanging post-mortems. And enraged Quince has\n\tcornered Drew, out of earshot of the others.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWhat have you done? You've gotten\n\t\tthe old man fired!\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThat we did. Thanks to you. He was\n\t\twobbling, mind you, but you stupid\n\t\tthe coup de grace.\n\n", "to merge this corporation with\n\t\tBontecou International --\n\n\tParrish stands, Drew stops speaking.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\tSilence, then Joe rises.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t\t(to the Board)\n\t\tWho I am, and my relationship to\n\t\tBill, will be divulged in our own\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\tJoe follows Parrish out of the room.\n\n\tINT. HALLWAY, OUTSIDE BOARD RO", "\t\tNo lawyers, Drew. We're going to\n\t\toffer you a deal.\n\n\tDrew is all attention.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tConfess to the Board every details of\n\t\tyour participation and then submit\n\t\tyour resignation.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tAnd what do I get?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou get not to go to jail.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYou're talking through your", "-- yes. He says it's up\n\t\tto Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe'?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tThat's what he said.\n\n\tQuince, having dispensed his information, looks proudly\n\taround at the Board members. They are stunned, Sloane in\n\tshock. Drew is absolutely still, letting Quince's words\n\tsink in.\n\n\tINT. DINING ROOM, PARRISH", "offer.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\tAlthough it pains me to say it, in\n\t\tmy opinion Bill Parrish dealt with\n\t\tus peremptorily in dismissing any\n\t\tdeal with Bontecou. Therefore, I'm\n\t\tsorry to say that if we are to exam-\n\t\tine this new offer responsibly as\n\t\tthe Board of Directors of Parrish\n\t\tCommunications, we must do so with-\n\t\tout its Chairman.\n\t\t\t(another moment)", "\t\twith one of our books or magazines\n\t\tand you would always be told the\n\t\ttruth and in the bargain, have a\n\t\tgood time.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThat's great! Wait 'til I show it\n\t\tto Bontecou.\n\n\tDrew opens a door, a conference room, a circle of top exec-\n\tutives, now stepping out from the group is a huge, white-\n\thaired man, JOHN BONTECOU, 55.\n\n\t", "had advisors be-\n\t\tfore. Nobody tells Bill what to do.\n\n\tThe door opens and Felicia enters followed by Quince, sur-\n\tprised at seeing a convened Board, but still he is all smiles.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tThank you for coming.\n\n\t\t\t SLOANE\n\t\tHello, Quince.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tHi, Ed, hi folks, I didn't know\n\t\teverybody was going to be here, what\n\t\t", "REW\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tHow nice for you both.\n\n\tDrew takes a moment, then plunges in.\n\n\t\t\t DREW (cont'd)\n\t\tBill, pardon my candor, but I was\n\t\tconfounded by your decision this\n\t\tmorning.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI was hired, you told me, to help\n\t\tbring Parrish Communications into\n\t\tthe", ".\n\n\tDrew takes a seat.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're a worthless sack of shit, you\n\t\tfucked me over, played footsie with\n\t\tJohn Bontecou, sold my company out\n\t\tto line your own pockets.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tI don't know where you get that idea\n\t\t-- the Board agreed --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe Board didn't know you're a mole\n\t", "Parrish breaks\n\tthe silence.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tShall we adjourn?\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tBut the matter's still on the table,\n\t\tBill --\n\n\tEDWARD SLOANE, a contemporary of Parrish's, has been warily\n\tsilent, but extremely observant. Protective of Parrish, and\n\tsensing his burgeoning difficulty, he interrupts:\n\n\t\t\tSLOANE\n\t\tWhy don'" ], [ "\t\tilites of a fatal collision on a golf\n\t\tcart of suffocating in an avalanche\n\t\ton a skin vacation in Gstaad?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI hope you realize, Bill...in your\n\t\toffice this morning, that was your\n\t\ttime.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCloser than that.\n\n\tParrish keeps still, trying to cool the heat of Joe's\n\ttemper.\n\n", "\t\tings and spending the rest of your\n\t\tlife living up to them. And above\n\t\tall, not hurting the object of your\n\t\tlove.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tSo that's what love is?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMultiply it by infinity and take it\n\t\tto the death of forever and you will\n\t\tstill have barely a glimpse of what\n\t\tI am talking about.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThose were my words, Bill.", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", " The\n\t\told man says it's up to Joe.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe'? Those were his\n\t\twords?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYeah.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\t'It's up to Joe', huh?\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYeah, that's what he said.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tWell, that's very interesting.\n\n\t", "knows\n\t\twhat. You arrive on the scene -- why\n\t\tyou picked me, I still don't under-\n\t\tstand --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI picked you for your verve, your\n\t\texcellence, and for your ability to\n\t\t- how shall I say - instruct. You've\n\t\tlived a first-rate life. And I find\n\t\tit eminently usable.\n\n\tParrish measures Joe.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat do", "I never heard her speak of any man\n\t\tas she spoke of you -- It was always\n\t\twhat I wanted for her -- but what\n\t\thappens to her now?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't worry about it, Bill.\n\t\tThese things have a way of working\n\t\tout.\n\n\tJoe regards Parrish, waits until he has a sense that Parrish\n\thas accepted what Joe has said, then Joe continues:\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're putting me on the spot, Bill.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tLet's put it this way. When I go,\n\t\tyou go.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhen you go, I go.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's the best I can do.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...but minute-by-minute, I find\n\t\tmyself ling", "\n\tsmiles back. Now she heads out with the crowd for the\n\tfireworks. When Parrish senses she is on her way, he turns\n\tand heads up towards Joe.\n\n\tJoe rises to meet Parrish as he approaches.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHappy Birthday, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\tThey watch the guests gathering to view the fireworks.\n\tJoe's gaze lingers.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'", "-\n\t\tgratulations. Now multiply it by\n\t\tinfinity and take it to the depth\n\t\tof forever, and you still will\n\t\thave barely a glimpse of what I\n\t\tam talking about.\n\n\tParrish falls silent, chewing over Joe's admonition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe --?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow about giving a guy a break?\n\n\t\t\t ", "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", " JOE\n\t\tBill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou've got a deal.\n\n\tParrish seems relieved. He has now, with some difficulty,\n\tcompleted the tying of Joe's tie, adjusts it beautifully on\n\tJoe's collar, then spins him around in front of a mirror.\n\tJoe, catching sight of his own appearance, rises to the\n\tballs of his feet, quite taken.\n\n\t\t\t ", "field thing of all time. What do I\n\t\tdo? What do I tell my family?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tOh, I wouldn't tell them anything,\n\t\tBill. You'll ruin the good start we\n\t\thad last night. I felt as if I were\n\t\tbeing treated like a person. 'Joe'\n\t\tthis and 'Joe' that - a nice smile\n\t\t- Quince passed me the rolls -- no\n\t\t'rapture' or 'passion' or any of", "\n\t\tThat's your privilege, Bill. But\n\t\tgiven our needs, given the absolute\n\t\tnecessity for growth, given the fu-\n\t\tture, the truth is... joining John\n\t\tBontecou is every bit as certain as -\n\t\tDeath and Taxes.\n\n\tJoe interjects:\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t'Death and Taxes'?\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tYes.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n", "\t\tYou've always meant well and I\n\t\tappreciate that. Sometimes things\n\t\tjust turn out -- wrong.\n\n\tA KNOCK on the door, it opens, Joe appears.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tExcuse me --\n\n\tHe starts to step out.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tCome in, Joe -- I want to thank you\n\t\t-- okay, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSure.\n\n\tAs Joe enters, Quince flashes", "\n\t\tI don't want anybody buying up my\n\t\tlife's work and turning it into\n\t\tsomething it wasn't meant to be. A\n\t\tman wants to leave something behind.\n\t\tAnd he wants it left behind the way\n\t\the made it. And he wants it to be\n\t\trun the way he run it -- with a sense\n\t\tof honor, of dedication, of truth.\n\t\tOkay?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tOkay.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t", "ish tries to demur but the request becomes\n\tloud and rhythmic, he holds up his hand, nods, quiets the\n\tcrowd. Joe observes from the fringe.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(to the guests)\n\t\tI thought I was going to sneak away\n\t\ttonight...\n\n\tYELLS of \"No!\" \"Never!\"\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\t...What a glorious night, every\n\t\tface I see is a memory", "that you want,\n\t\tJoe?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm only following the Parrish\n\t\tbywords. Looking for that 'ounce\n\t\tof excitement', that 'whisper of a\n\t\tthrill' -- What there is no sense\n\t\tliving your life without. You know\n\t\twhat I mean, Bill.\n\n\tParrish's jaw sets.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're violating the laws of the\n\t\tuniverse.\n", "question that is in the back of your\n\t\tthroat, choking the blood to your\n\t\tbrain, ringing in the ears over and\n\t\tover as you put it to yourself --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tThe 'question' --\n\n\t\t\t VOICE\n\t\t\t(urging)\n\t\tYes, Bill. The question.\n\n\tAfter a moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t...Am I going to die?\n\n\tThe figure who is the Voice takes a step", "\t\tyoung, this is not my time --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's what everybody says.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm not everybody.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's what everybody says.\n\n\tParrish is trying to control himself, glances at Joe.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI want to live.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI understand.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (" ], [ "\t\tings and spending the rest of your\n\t\tlife living up to them. And above\n\t\tall, not hurting the object of your\n\t\tlove.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tSo that's what love is?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tMultiply it by infinity and take it\n\t\tto the death of forever and you will\n\t\tstill have barely a glimpse of what\n\t\tI am talking about.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThose were my words, Bill.", "I never heard her speak of any man\n\t\tas she spoke of you -- It was always\n\t\twhat I wanted for her -- but what\n\t\thappens to her now?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI wouldn't worry about it, Bill.\n\t\tThese things have a way of working\n\t\tout.\n\n\tJoe regards Parrish, waits until he has a sense that Parrish\n\thas accepted what Joe has said, then Joe continues:\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tAnd", "for loving me.\n\n\tShe smiles wanly, Joe leaves her.\n\n\tINT. PARRISH'S STUDY, COUNTRY ESTATE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish is seated by the window, lights from the party\n\tflashing past, the MUSIC and laughter audible but muted,\n\tthe fever of the celebration lost on him, within himself.\n\n\tJoe enters, Parrish looks up.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t...We should think about getting\n\t\tstarted, Bill.\n\n\t", "?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tBecause that's the kind of man Bill\n\t\tParrish is.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, maybe... I guess you know him\n\t\tbetter than anybody.\n\n\tAnother moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- Getting to.\n\n\tThe orchestra behind them plays a few riffs, sound checks,\n\tgetting close.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tDo you think I should", " JOE\n\t\tBill --\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou've got a deal.\n\n\tParrish seems relieved. He has now, with some difficulty,\n\tcompleted the tying of Joe's tie, adjusts it beautifully on\n\tJoe's collar, then spins him around in front of a mirror.\n\tJoe, catching sight of his own appearance, rises to the\n\tballs of his feet, quite taken.\n\n\t\t\t ", "rive her of\n\t\tit and you're telling me you're\n\t\tsorry? Well, I'm sorry, apology\n\t\tnot accepted.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI love her, Bill. She is all that\n\t\tI ever wanted, and I've never wanted\n\t\tfor anything because I've never\n\t\twanted anything before, if you can\n\t\tunderstand.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow perfect for you -- to take\n\t\twhatever you want because it", "-\n\t\tgratulations. Now multiply it by\n\t\tinfinity and take it to the depth\n\t\tof forever, and you still will\n\t\thave barely a glimpse of what I\n\t\tam talking about.\n\n\tParrish falls silent, chewing over Joe's admonition.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tJoe --?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tHow about giving a guy a break?\n\n\t\t\t ", "\n\t\tMay I remind you this is not just a\n\t\tdispute with a putative suitor, this\n\t\tis me. So watch it...Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tCut the 'Bill' crap out -- you\n\t\tsonofabitch.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI told you, 'watch it'.\n\n\tSilence. Now Joe turns on his heel, heads right out the\n\tfront door. Parrish is left solitary, confounded, staring\n\tat the", "said something to me\n\t\tabout staying here --\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tIt hadn't occurred to me until then.\n\t\tI was just having such a wonderful\n\t\ttime -- Besides, isn't this what I'm\n\t\there for?\n\n\tParrish suddenly looks very anxious, Joe stops.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tYou seem uncomfortable, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tNo, I'm okay with this - uh - I\n\t\tthink", "shit. Don't you,\n\t\tBill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYeah, I give a shit.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tSee. There. What'd I tell you?\n\n\tJoe watches as Quince dabs at Allison's tears with a napkin.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE (cont'd)\n\t\tFeel better?\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tYeah, but --\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE", "speaks:\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tIt's so wonderful to make love to\n\t\tyou. It's like making love to some-\n\t\tone who has never made love before.\n\n\tJoe senses an opportunity not only to admit to what she has\n\tsaid, but to tell her more, even the truth about himself.\n\tHe weighs, then resists, the impulse.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThank you.\n\n\tHer head nestles underneath his arm, she has a sense of his\n", "and sell it off for parts.\n\t\tBontecou was outside, Drew was Mr.\n\t\tInside. And I was the fool who made\n\t\tit all happen. Oh God, what do I do?\n\n\tJoe regards Quince.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGo to Bill Parrish and tell him\n\t\teverything. He'll forgive you.\n\n\tQuince drains one more glass of wine.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think so? How do you know", "\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYou're putting me on the spot, Bill.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tLet's put it this way. When I go,\n\t\tyou go.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhen you go, I go.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThat's the best I can do.\n\t\t\t(a moment)\n\t\t...but minute-by-minute, I find\n\t\tmyself ling", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "ong... I don't know what you're\n\t\tgoing to do -- how can this be love?\n\t\tShe doesn't know who you are. Why\n\t\tdon't you tell her? Try it out on\n\t\ther? See what happens. Reveal\n\t\teverything there is to know about\n\t\tyourself and let the chips fall\n\t\twhere they may.\n\n\tJoe has received what Parrish has said.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tOkay? --", "admiration. He nods to Joe, summarizes:\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(to Quince)\n\t\tAll in all, what Bill wants to do is\n\t\tbuild the golden bridge to Drew with\n\t\tno hard feelings.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tYou think Drew will go for it?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tQuince, I've got confidence in you.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tSir, I'll deliver the", "moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\t-- And I'm in love with your\n\t\tdaughter.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tSay again?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm in love with your daughter, and\n\t\tI'm taking her with me tonight.\n\n\tParrish is stunned.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYou're what?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI think you heard me, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t", "a warm smile at him.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\t\t(to Parrish)\n\t\tJoe knew the whole story. I told\n\t\thim. It was his idea that I come\n\t\tclean. I mean I wanted to come\n\t\tclean but he gave me a pair of\n\t\tballs, you know what I mean?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tYes, I believe I do.\n\n\tQuince now drifts off.\n\n\t\t\tQUICHE\n\t\tYeah", "\tcomforting her without knowing that he is doing so.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tDid you like making love to me?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI loved it.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tMore than you love peanut butter?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes!\n\n\tShe laughs at the earnestness with which he answers.\n\n\tJoe seems to drift away now, they lie together as one but for\n\tthe first time, she feels separate from him, sens", "each other's.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(carefully)\n\t\tHello. Would you like to join me,\n\t\tQuince and Allison for a nightcap?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tUm -- not right now.\n\n\tAn awkward moment.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tOkay. Goodnight.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tGoodnight.\n\n\tParrish turns and" ], [ " Susan cuts past a re-\n\tceiving line that files up the stairs, she skirts the house\n\tand heads straight for the action, the party on the lawns in\n\tthe rear, climbs a terrace where she commands a view of the\n\tevent on which the curtain is just about to rise.\n\n\tEXT. LAWN, COUNTRY ESTATE - SUNSET\n\n\tGuests milling, emerging from the crowd Susan sees, isolated\n\tby a fountain, Joe. He looks up towards her, he knows she\n\thas seen him", "by a surge of guests. Parrish sees Susan, she smiles but\n\tthere is a tinge of sadness about her. He heads towards her,\n\tthey are somehow situated as if they were alone in this crowd.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhat a night.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI'm having a helluva time.\n\n\tA moment.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tYou were right about Joe, he is\n\t\tgoing somewhere --\n\n\t\t\t PARR", "\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tAnd I said you'd have a hard time\n\t\tfinding a woman like that.\n\n\tJoe shifts, she smiles at his embarrasement.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tWell, you've found one, Joe.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tThe 'coffee shop' --\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- That was the place... and you were\n\t\tthe guy.\n\n\tJoe seems resigned now, the air", "my lucky day. I arrive\n\t\tin this big bad city and I not only\n\t\tfind a doctor, a beautiful woman as\n\t\twell.\n\n\tSusan looks into her coffee.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN (cont'd)\n\t\tI'm sorry, you mind my saying that?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tNot at all.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHow 'bout another cup of coffee?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI", ". Now she stops again. It is a man, he\n\tkeeps coming, and now that he is close and recognizes him.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tJoe...?\n\n\tHe smiles quizzically, hasn't quite heard her, stands right\n\tin front of her, loose, smiling, disoriented and yet so\n\tappealing. They are riveted on each other, uneasy and yet\n\tclose.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tYou're here...\n\n\t", "an slowly realizes this is the Young Man. She is shaken,\n\ta sudden intake of breath.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tHey, you all right?\n\n\tHis hand politely touches her elbow, courteously lending her\n\tsupport.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tThe coffee shop --\n\n\tThe Young Man nods, pleased with her recognition.\n\n\t\t\t YOUNG MAN\n\t\tI asked you if I said something\n\t\twrong and you said it was so right", ", they proceed to a rendezvous that has not been\n\tprearranged but which they intuit. Susan slants through the\n\tguests, stopping here and there, excited greetings and cha-\n\ttter float on the wind, \"He, Susie!\", \"What a party\", \"You\n\tlook great\", she keeps moving, a shimmering wraith.\n\n\tJoe is on the right coordinate to meet her, his graceful,\n\tunfailing step carrying him speedily to a destination he is\n\tnot certain of,", "d)\n\t\tJoe's not around.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tWhere is he?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't know.\n\n\tSusan seems distracted.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH (cont'd)\n\t\tWhy are you looking for Joe?\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tBecause I was sitting in a staff\n\t\tmeeting, incredibly bored, my mind\n\t\tkept wandering and the only place it\n\t\tlanded was", ", in a pained reflex, again turns and looks\n\tup towards the hill. There is nobody there. She hesitates,\n\tnow glides away from the party, her step quickens as she\n\twalks up towards the hill.\n\n\tSusan halts, in the distance a figure is approaching from\n\tover the crest of the hill where Joe and Parrish disappeared.\n\tHe is heading straight for her, she tries to make him out,\n\tseems to recognize him, starts to walk towards him as if\n\tpulled by a magnet", "\tHe turns back into the foyer, looks up, Parrish is on the\n\tbalcony, it is clear he has observed Joe and Susan.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tHello, Bill.\n\n\tParrish, in a state of shock, doesn't answer for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tDid you have a nice nap?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI couldn't sleep.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI'm sorry to", "\tYou're here?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tI am.\n\n\tHe stands, they regard each other for the moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE (cont'd)\n\t\tMay I take your coat?\n\n\tShe doesn't answer, starts to take off the coat herself, Joe\n\tcomes around her to help, Susan senses him breathing in the\n\tscent at the back of her neck.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\tI just thought I'd drop by, scrounge\n\t\ta", "\n\t\t\t(lightly)\n\t\tWe've met.\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tWhat?!\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t-- This morning. The Corinth Coffee\n\t\tShop. He was looking for a doctor.\n\n\t\t\t QUINCE\n\t\tWell, I guess he's found one.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tJoe, you do get around.\n\n\tJoe is happily confounded by all the interaction.\n\n\t\t\t ", "SUSAN\n\t\tSo, what are you doing here?\n\n\tParrish tenses, but Joe doesn't answer.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN (cont'd)\n\t\tCat got your tongue? You weren't so\n\t\tsilent this morning.\n\n\tDrew reacts to this allusion of intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON\n\t\tNow, I'm getting interested. I want\n\t\tto know more ---\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\t\t(to Joe)", ",\n\tits sudden convening clearly a problem for Parrish, a prob-\n\tlem which he does not attempt to hide, only control.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n\t\tDid you want to have a cup of coffee\n\t\tor something, Bill?\n\n\t\t\t PARRISH\n\t\tI don't think so. Do you?\n\n\tDrew gets the message, at the same time Joe is checking out\n\tall the attendees, his eyes come to rest on Drew.\n\n\t\t\t DREW\n", "\n\t\tTo bed.\n\n\t\t\t SUSAN\n\t\t\t(suddenly fragile)\n\t\t'To bed'?\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tYes. I'm tired.\n\n\tHe excuses himself with an ineffable gesture, now climbs the\n\tstairs, Susan watches him disappear.\n\n\tShe turns back into the salon just as Allison and Quince are\n\texiting, \"good-byes\" all around. Susan is left alone now\n\twith Parrish who is fixing a", "\n\n\tDrew enters. He nuzzles Susan's neck, out of the corner of\n\ther eye she sees Joe still observing them.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON (cont'd)\n\t\t...When Daddy walked in with him, he\n\t\tcouldn't even remember his name. Now\n\t\the's his house guest. And you know\n\t\thow he hates house guests. What is\n\t\tgoing on?\n\n\tDrew, whose eyes have also been on Joe across the room, turns\n\tback", "TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT\n\n\tParrish, Joe, Susan, Allison and Quince are seated at the\n\ttable, dessert plates in front of them, coffee cups beside.\n\tAllison and Susan's eyes are on Parrish, looking for some\n\tclue as to why has he gathered the family together yet\n\tagain. Parrish is somewhat within himself, but he peeks\n\tover his demi-tasse cup at Joe, Parrish aware of Joe's\n\theightened interest in Susan, and Susan's reciprocation", "\t\t ALLISON (O.S.)\n\t\tThere you are!\n\n\tAllison appears.\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON (cont'd)\n\t\tWhat's going on here? Tete-a-tetes\n\t\ton my big night?\n\t\t\t(to Susan)\n\t\tC'mon honey, you're needed.\n\t\t\t(to Joe)\n\t\tCan it wait?\n\n\tBut before he can answer --\n\n\t\t\t ALLISON (cont'd)\n\t\tGl", "from the party, up a meadow that leads to a hill overlooking\n\tthe river.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tDown below, the party guests' faces are lit by the initial\n\tfireworks display. Among them is Susan, but her interest\n\tisn't there. Not something pulls her attention, an over-\n\tpowering feeling that compels her to turn and see, at a\n\tdistance, Parrish and Joe walking away up the meadow. Some-\n\tthing about the sight saddens and at the same time fright", "away.\n\n\tANOTHER ANGLE\n\n\tOn a distant fringe of the party, a grass terrace that still\n\tcommands a view of the dance floor, is Joe. His eyes are on\n\tParrish and Susan, he watches them admiringly yet ruefully.\n\tA Waiter passes, catches sight of Joe, stops.\n\n\t\t\t WAITER\n\t\tCan I get you anything, sir?\n\n\tJoe regards the Waiter for a moment.\n\n\t\t\t JOE\n\t\tDo you have any pe" ] ]

[ "What is the one condition that Joe Black gives Bill to stay on Earth?", "What happens to the man Susan meets at the coffee shop?", "In the beginning of the story, what strange phenomenon is happening to Bill?", "Why is Quince upset?", "What happens to the man at the coffee shop after Bill \"dies\"?", "What happens before Bill goes to his birthday party?", "Who is the man who is instigating with Drew to take down Bill as chairman bidding for?", "Whose body does Death inhabit?", "What happens to Joe Black when Susan shows feeling for him?", "What was William Bill plan for his company?", "What is the name of William Bill young daughter?", "How did Death came to Willam Bill home?", "How did William Bill introduced Death to his family?", "What did William Bill has to do to stay alive?", "Who wanted William Bill to be voted out as a chairman of his company?", "Why did Death wanted to take Susan away with him?", "What did William Bill did with his remaning hours of his life?", "What did William Bill and Joe Black did during firework?", "Who came back to hold hand with Susan?", "What is Bil Parrish planning as his 65th birthday approaches?", "What is Bills youngest daughter Susan's career choice?", "How does Bill feel about his daughter Susan's relationship and marriage contemplation?", "What happens to the man that Susan meets in the coffee shop?", "How does the young man from the coffee shop manifest himself to Bill following his accident?", "How does Drew get Bill voted out as chairman?", "With Bill out as Chairman, what does Drew do?", "When his last birthday arrives what does Bill try to impart to Joe?", "What does Joe do for Bill following their converstation about true love thta helps Bill?", "How does Susan's interest from the coffee shop arrive at Bills party?" ]

[ [ "If Bill is his guide.", "bill has to be his guide while on earth" ], [ "He gets hit in a multi car accident.", "he disappeared to her but came as Death to her father" ], [ "He is hearing voices.", "he starts to hear voices" ], [ "Drew used information from him to push him out as Board President.", "Quince accidentally gave Drew information that would help him vote Bill out of the board." ], [ "He comes back and falls in love with Susan.", "Death leaves Joe's body and he finds himself alive at the party with Susan." ], [ "He exposes Drew as an member of the IRS.", "He regains control of his company with Joe's help " ], [ "Parrish Communications.", "Parrish Communications " ], [ "The man at the coffee shop.", "A man who died in a car accident." ], [ "Joe falls in love with her.", "he becomes attracted to her" ], [ "William Bill wanted to merge his company with another media company.", "merger" ], [ "Susan", "susan" ], [ "Dealh came to bill home in body of a young man", "they walked away from the party together" ], [ "He intoduced Death as Joe Black", "Joe Black" ], [ "William Bill became Joe Black guide.", "He has to be Death's guide on earth." ], [ "Drew", "drew" ], [ "Because Death was in love with Susan.", "Death is in love with Susan." ], [ "He devoted his time to his daughter Susan.", "He spends them with his daughters at the party " ], [ "They walked away ", "They walk out of view where they disappear, i.e., die." ], [ "Joe", "Death/Joe" ], [ "He is planning to merge his company with another media giant. ", "a party" ], [ "Susan is an internal medicine resident.", "Internal Medicine " ], [ "Bill feels that she is not truly in love and should keep her options open as another opportunity could strike. ", "he's not convinced" ], [ "When he leaves the shop he is struck by multiple cars. ", "is killed in multiple car accident" ], [ "He appears to Bill as \"Death\", says he can remain on earth as long as Bill guides him, and Bill calls him Joe Black. ", "As death " ], [ "He uses Bills strange behavior and reliance on Joe Black to sway the votes to go his way. ", "By convincing the rest of the board members that Bill is incompetent." ], [ "He pushes through the merger that Bill had decided to oppose after all to the dismay of Quince.", "Drew votes Bill out of the board as Chairman." ], [ "He wants him to recognize what true love is and all that that encompasses. ", "The meaning of true love and all it entails, especially honesty and sacrifice." ], [ "He helps Bill to regain control of his company.", "helps him regain his company" ], [ "As he was Joe Black and walks Bill to his great beyond, he appears once Bill leaves not knowing how he got there. ", "he just appears " ] ]

[ [ "\n\n\nNotwithstanding the difficulties of the task, I have felt it my duty to\ndepict Lambert's boyhood, the unknown life to which I owe the only happy\nhours, the only pleasant memories, of my early days. Excepting during\nthose two years I had nothing but annoyances and weariness. Though some\nhappiness was mine at a later time, it was always incomplete.\n\nI have been diffuse, I know; but in default of entering into the whole\nwide heart and brain of Louis Lambert--two words which inadequately\nexpress", "become of me?\" said I. \"Is not my position a dreadful\none? _I_ have nothing here to uphold me!\" and I slapped my forehead.\n\nHe shook his head with a gentle gesture, gracious and sad, and we\nparted.\n\nAt that time Louis Lambert was about five feet five inches in height;\nhe grew no more. His countenance, which was full of expression, revealed\nhis sweet nature. Divine patience, developed by harsh usage, and the\nconstant concentration needed for his meditative life, had bereft his\neyes of the", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "life of that mighty brain, which split up on every side perhaps,\nlike a too vast empire, would have been set forth in the narrative of\nthis man's visions--a being incomplete for lack of force or of weakness;\nbut I preferred to give an account of my own impressions rather than to\ncompose a more or less poetical romance.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert died at the age of twenty-eight, September 25, 1824, in\nhis true love's arms. He was buried by her desire in an island in the\npark", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", " GUTENBERG EBOOK LOUIS LAMBERT ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by John Bickers, and Dagny\n\n\n\n\n\nLOUIS LAMBERT\n\n\nBy Honore De Balzac\n\n\nTranslated by Clara Bell and James Waring\n\n\n\n\n DEDICATION\n\n \"Et nunc et semper dilectoe dicatum.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nLOUIS LAMBERT\n\n\nLouis Lambert was born at Montoire, a little", "-fellows joined\nour two names; one was never spoken without the other, and to call\neither they always shouted \"Poet-and-Pythagoras!\" Some other names had\nbeen known coupled in a like manner. Thus for two years I was the\nschool friend of poor Louis Lambert; and during that time my life was\nso identified with his, that I am enabled now to write his intellectual\nbiography.\n\nIt was long before I fully knew the poetry and the wealth of ideas that\nlay hidden in my companion's heart and brain. It was not till", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "\nOur life, apparently, was merely vegetating; but we lived through our\nheart and brain.\n\nLambert's influence over my imagination left traces that still abide.\nI used to listen hungrily to his tales, full of the marvels which make\nmen, as well as children, rapturously devour stories in which truth\nassumes the most grotesque forms. His passion for mystery, and the\ncredulity natural to the young, often led us to discuss Heaven and Hell.\nThen Louis, by expounding Swedenborg, would try to make me share", "the stove, amused to see them dry and shrivel; or if the gloves escaped\nthe marauders, after getting wet they shrunk as they dried for want\nof care. No, gloves were impossible. Gloves were a privilege, and boys\ninsist on equality.\n\nLouis Lambert fell a victim to all these varieties of torment. Like\nmany contemplative men, who, when lost in thought, acquire a habit of\nmechanical motion, he had a mania for fidgeting with his shoes, and\ndestroyed them very quickly. His girlish complexion,", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "turns two and two for a week to keep an\neye on us, would be the first to hear on trustworthy authority: \"There\nwill be a new boy to-morrow!\" and then suddenly the shout, \"A New\nBoy!--A New Boy!\" rang through the courts. We hurried up to crowd round\nthe superintendent and pester him with questions:\n\n\"Where was he coming from? What was his name? Which class would he be\nin?\" and so forth.\n\nLouis Lambert's advent was the subject of a romance worthy of the\n_Arab", "augoult, who participated in our torments of curiosity, did not\nsound the whistle he used to reduce our mutterings to silence and bring\nus back to our tasks. We then saw this famous new boy, whom Monsieur\nMareschal was leading by the hand. The superintendent descended from his\ndesk, and the headmaster said to him solemnly, according to etiquette:\n\"Monsieur, I have brought you Monsieur Louis Lambert; will you place him\nin the fourth class? He will begin work to-morrow.\"\n\n", "not a bad man, but of very\nmoderate attainments, and he lacked the tact which is indispensable for\ndiscerning the different characters of children, and graduating their\npunishment to their powers of resistance. Father Haugoult, then, began\nvery obligingly to communicate to his pupils the wonderful events which\nwere to end on the morrow in the advent of the most singular of \"new\nboys.\" Games were at an end. All the children came round in silence to\nhear the story of Louis Lambert, discovered, like an aerolite", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively" ], [ "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "ce; rich families\nsecured them long beforehand to have them ready when the lots were\ndrawn. The poor tanner's modest fortune did not allow of their\npurchasing a substitute for their son, and they saw no means allowed by\nlaw for evading the conscription but that of making him a priest; so,\nin 1807, they sent him to his maternal uncle, the parish priest of Mer,\nanother small town on the Loire, not far from Blois. This arrangement at\nonce satisfied Louis' passion for knowledge, and his parents' wish not", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "ustoms himself to the phenomena of life, steels himself\nto every moral or physical perception--an involuntary education which\nsubsequently brings forth fruit both in the understanding and character\nof a man; no, Louis mastered the facts, and he accounted for them after\nseeking out both the principle and the end with the mother wit of a\nsavage. Indeed, from the age of fourteen, by one of those startling\nfreaks in which nature sometimes indulges, and which proved how\nanomalous was his temperament, he would utter quite simply ideas of\nwhich", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "owned\nevery delight of that inexhaustible shop! and during Mass every response\nwe chanted was mixed up in our minds with our secret calculations.\nWhich of us all can recollect ever having had a sou left to spend on\nthe Sunday following? And which of us but obeyed the instinctive law of\nsocial existence by pitying, helping, and despising those pariahs who,\nby the avarice or poverty of their parents, found themselves penniless?\n\nAny one who forms a clear idea of this huge college, with its monastic\nbuildings in the heart", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "which the loss would leave them with a stain on their good\nname, the only thing they had in the world. Hence their anxiety was very\ngreat when the question first arose as to whether they should yield to\nthe plaintiff's unjust demands, or should defend themselves against him.\nThe matter came under discussion one autumn evening, before a turf fire\nin the room used by the tanner and his wife. Two or three relations\nwere invited to this family council, and among others Louis' maternal\ngreat-grandfather, an old laborer, much bent, but with a", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "\n\nBut Lambert at that time was an even greater wonder. Monsieur Mareschal,\nthe headmaster, after examining him, had thought of placing him among\nthe senior boys. It was Louis' ignorance of Latin that placed him so low\nas the fourth class, but he would certainly leap up a class every year;\nand, as a remarkable exception, he was to be one of the \"Academy.\" _Proh\npudor_! we were to have the honor of counting among the \"little\nboys\" one whose coat was adorned with the red ribbon", ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on" ], [ "-fellows joined\nour two names; one was never spoken without the other, and to call\neither they always shouted \"Poet-and-Pythagoras!\" Some other names had\nbeen known coupled in a like manner. Thus for two years I was the\nschool friend of poor Louis Lambert; and during that time my life was\nso identified with his, that I am enabled now to write his intellectual\nbiography.\n\nIt was long before I fully knew the poetry and the wealth of ideas that\nlay hidden in my companion's heart and brain. It was not till", "which certainly can have shown no great promise, to judge by\na line of too many feet which became famous among my companions--the\nbeginning of an epic on the Incas:\n\n \"O Inca! O roi infortune et malheureux!\"\n\nIn derision of such attempts, I was nicknamed the Poet, but mockery did\nnot cure me. I was always rhyming, in spite of good advice from Monsieur\nMareschal, the headmaster, who tried to cure me of an unfortunately\ninveterate passion by telling me the fable of", "\n\"Indeed, I have not,\" said I. \"But we are equally to blame for our\nforgetfulness. Young men, as you know, lead such an adventurous and\nstorm-tossed life when they leave their school-forms, that it is only\nby meeting that they can be sure of an enduring affection. However,\na reminiscence of youth sometimes comes as a reminder, and it is\nimpossible to forget entirely, especially when two lads have been such\nfriends as we were. We went by the name of the Poet-and-Pyth", "we work up from the effect to the cause; or, in a wider sense, all\npoetry, like every work of art, proceeds from a swift vision of things.\"\n\nHe was a spiritualist (as opposed to materialism); but I would venture\nto contradict him, using his own arguments to consider the intellect\nas a purely physical phenomenon. We both were right. Perhaps the words\nmaterialism and spiritualism express the two faces of the same fact. His\nconsiderations on the substance of the mind led to his accepting, with\na certain pride, the life of privation to which", "and their magnified\ndesires?\n\n\n\nAll that I can now remember of the poetical conversations we held\ntogether concerning the Swedish prophet, whose works I have since had\nthe curiosity to read, may be told in a few paragraphs.\n\nIn each of us there are two distinct beings. According to Swedenborg,\nthe angel is an individual in whom the inner being conquers the external\nbeing. If a man desires to earn his call to be an angel, as soon as his\nmind reveals to him his twofold existence, he must strive to foster the\ndelicate angel", ".\n You go out walking, absorbed in dreams; the voice of the beggar\n asking an alms brings you back to this world of hunger and thirst.\n You need money only to take a walk. Your organs of sense,\n perpetually wearied by trifles, never get any rest. The poet's\n sensitive nerves are perpetually shocked, and what ought to be his\n glory becomes his torment; his imagination is his cruelest enemy.\n The injured workman, the poor mother in childbed, the prostitute\n who has fallen ill,", "to see\n a perfect life and an exquisite poem in our rapturous love; to\n throw my soul into it, drown my powers, and wring from each hour\n the joys it has to give!\n\n \"Ah, my memories of love are crowding back upon me, the clouds of\n despair will lift. Farewell. I leave you now to be more entirely\n yours. My beloved soul, I look for a line, a word that may restore\n my peace of mind. Let me know whether I really grieved my Pauline,", "by their ardent soul, thirsting for poetry, and filled\nwith the Divine Spirit. Thus, in their ignorance of the causes and their\nadmiration of the facts, they pleased their fancy by regarding that\ninner man as divine, and constructing a mystical universe. Hence we have\nangels! A lovely illusion which Lambert would never abandon, cherishing\nit even when the sword of his logic was cutting off their dazzling\nwings.\n\n\"Heaven,\" he would say, \"must, after all, be the survival of our\nperfected faculties", "sort of torpor in which deep contemplation leaves\nthe body, because I was younger and more impressionable than he. Like\ntwo lovers, we got into the habit of thinking together in a common\nreverie. His intuitions had already acquired that acuteness which must\nsurely characterize the intellectual perceptiveness of great poets and\noften bring them to the verge of madness.\n\n\"Do you ever feel,\" said he to me one day, \"as though imagined suffering\naffected you in spite of yourself? If, for instance, I think with\nconcentr", "at Villenoix. His tombstone is a plain stone cross, without name or\ndate. Like a flower that has blossomed on the margin of a precipice, and\ndrops into it, its colors and fragrance all unknown, it was fitting\nthat he too should fall. Like many another misprized soul, he had often\nyearned to dive haughtily into the void, and abandon there the secrets\nof his own life.\n\nMademoiselle de Villenoix would, however, have been quite justified\nin recording his name on that cross with her own. Since", "\n \"Believe me, dear uncle, it is hard to give up the life that is in\n us without a pang. I am returning to Blois with a heavy grip at my\n heart; I shall die then, taking with me some useful truths. No\n personal interest debases my regrets. Is earthly fame a guerdon to\n those who believe that they will mount to a higher sphere?\n\n \"I am by no means in love with the two syllables _Lam_ and _bert_;\n whether spoken with respect or with contempt over", "during lesson time and play hours. This strange\nstate of affairs inevitably and in fact placed us on a footing of war\nwith all the other boys in our division. Forgotten for the most part, we\nsat there very contentedly; half happy, like two plants, two images\nwho would have been missed from the furniture of the room. But the most\naggressive of our schoolfellows would sometimes torment us, just to\nshow their malignant power, and we responded with stolid contempt, which\nbrought many a thrashing down on the Poet-and-", "\nthird phase of his education as enables us to understand it perfectly.\nAs we read these lines, written at chance moments, taken up when the\nvicissitudes of life in Paris allowed, may we not fancy that we see\nan oak at that stage of its growth when its inner expansion bursts\nthe tender green bark, covering it with wrinkles and cracks, when its\nmajestic stature is in preparation--if indeed the lightnings of heaven\nand the axe of man shall spare it?\n\nThis letter, then, will close, alike for the poet and the philosopher,", ", with a doubtful shrug, \"perhaps\nwe have not two natures; perhaps we are merely gifted with personal\nand perfectible qualities, of which the development within us produces\ncertain unobserved phenomena of activity, penetration, and vision. In\nour love of the marvelous, a passion begotten of our pride, we have\ntranslated these effects into poetical inventions, because we did not\nunderstand them. It is so convenient to deify the incomprehensible!\n\n\"I should, I own, lament over the loss of my ill", "?\" said the Father sharply.\n\nAnd there was a roar of laughter, while Lambert looked at the master in\nsome bewilderment.\n\n\"What would Madame la Baronne de Stael say if she could know that you\nmake such nonsense of a word that means noble family, of patrician\nrank?\"\n\n\"She would say that you were an ass!\" said I in a muttered tone.\n\n\"Master Poet, you will stay in for a week,\" replied the master, who\nunfortunately overheard me.\n\nLambert simply repeated, looking at", ". His eyes shot out thoughts; his uplifted hand, his silent\nbut tremulous lips were eloquent; his burning glance was radiant; at\nlast his head, as though too heavy, or exhausted by too eager a flight,\nfell on his breast. This boy--this giant--bent his head, took my hand\nand clasped it in his own, which was damp, so fevered was he for the\nsearch for truth; then, after a pause, he said:\n\n\"I shall be famous!--And you, too,\" he added after a pause. \"", "being purer, are the more genuine,\nmust transcend the wail even of genius.\n\nAfter sitting for a long time with his eyes fixed on a lime-tree in the\nplayground, Louis would say just a word; but that word would reveal an\ninfinite speculation.\n\n\"Happily for me,\" he exclaimed one day, \"there are hours of comfort when\nI feel as though the walls of the room had fallen and I were away--away\nin the fields! What a pleasure it is to let oneself go on the stream of\none's thoughts as", "and of\nabsorbing them to study them in their essence. Thus, the advantages of\nthis splendid stage, acquired by other men only after long study, were\nachieved by Lambert during his bodily childhood: a happy childhood,\ncolored by the studious joys of a born poet.\n\nThe point which most thinkers reach at last was to him the\nstarting-point, whence his brain was to set out one day in search of\nnew worlds of knowledge. Though as yet he knew it not, he had made for\nhimself the most exacting life possible,", ", betraying the struggle of\nhis soul at the time when youth was ending and the terrible power of\nproduction was coming into being, to which we might have owed the works\nof the man.\n\nThis letter connects itself with the adventure at the theatre. The\nincident and the letter throw light on each other, body and soul were\ntuned to the same pitch. This tempest of doubts and asseverations, of\nclouds and of lightnings that flash before the thunder, ending by a\nstarved yearning for heavenly illumination, throws such a light on the", "that hover around\nyouth. Thus his conception, while at some points it touched the ripest\nfruits of his genius, still, by many more, clung to the smaller elements\nof its germs. To certain readers, lovers of poetry, what he chiefly\nlacked must have been a certain vein of interest.\n\nBut his work bore the stamp of the struggle that was going on in that\nnoble Spirit between the two great principles of Spiritualism and\nMaterialism, round which so many a fine genius has beaten its way\nwithout ever daring to amalgamate" ], [ "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "appearance that Lambert's fine proportions and firm muscles could only\nbe appreciated in the bath. When we swam in our pool in the Loire,\nLouis was conspicuous by the whiteness of his skin, which was unlike the\ndifferent shades of our schoolfellows' bodies mottled by the cold,\nor blue from the water. Gracefully formed, elegant in his attitudes,\ndelicate in hue, never shivering after his bath, perhaps because he\navoided the shade and always ran into the sunshine, Louis was like one\nof", "\n\n\nWhen Louis returned to Blois, his uncle was eager to procure him some\namusement; but the poor priest was regarded as a perfect leper in that\ngodly-minded town. No one would have anything to say to a revolutionary\nwho had taken the oaths. His society, therefore, consisted of a\nfew individuals of what were then called liberal or patriotic, or\nconstitutional opinions, on whom he would call for a rubber of whist or\nof boston.\n\nAt the first house where he was introduced by his uncle, Louis met a\nyoung lady,", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "loved, whose accents, so painfully expected,\nhad seemed to be lost for ever. My eyes filled with tears in spite of\nevery effort. An involuntary instinct warned me, making me doubt whether\nLouis had really lost his reason. I was indeed well assured that he\nneither saw nor heard me; but the sweetness of his tone, which seemed\nto reveal heavenly happiness, gave his speech an amazing effect. These\nwords, the incomplete revelation of an unknown world, rang in our souls\nlike some glorious distant bells in the depth of a dark night. I was", "to complain of\nsuffering. An eagle that needed the world to feed him, shut in between\nfour narrow, dirty walls; and thus this life became an ideal life in the\nstrictest meaning of the words. Filled as he was with contempt of the\nalmost useless studies to which we were harnessed, Louis went on his\nskyward way absolutely unconscious of the things about us.\n\nI, obeying the imitative instinct that is so strong in childhood, tired\nto regulate my life in conformity with his. And Louis the more easily\ninfected me with the", "to a woman's sweet and loving nature. She had\nnot, indeed, the rosy freshness, the fruit-like bloom which blush on a\ngirl's cheek during her careless years. Darker shadows, with here\nand there a redder vein, took the place of color, symptomatic of an\nenergetic temper and nervous irritability, such as many men do not like\nto meet with in a wife, while to others they are an indication of the\nmost sensitive chastity and passion mingled with pride.\n\nAs soon as Louis saw Madem", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "ustoms himself to the phenomena of life, steels himself\nto every moral or physical perception--an involuntary education which\nsubsequently brings forth fruit both in the understanding and character\nof a man; no, Louis mastered the facts, and he accounted for them after\nseeking out both the principle and the end with the mother wit of a\nsavage. Indeed, from the age of fourteen, by one of those startling\nfreaks in which nature sometimes indulges, and which proved how\nanomalous was his temperament, he would utter quite simply ideas of\nwhich" ], [ "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "a linnet that fell out\nof the nest because it tried to fly before its wings were grown. I\npersisted in my reading; I became the least emulous, the idlest, the\nmost dreamy of all the division of \"little boys,\" and consequently the\nmost frequently punished.\n\nThis autobiographical digression may give some idea of the reflections I\nwas led to make in anticipation of Lambert's arrival. I was then twelve\nyears old. I felt sympathy from the first for the boy whose temperament\nhad some points of likeness to", "\n\nBut Lambert at that time was an even greater wonder. Monsieur Mareschal,\nthe headmaster, after examining him, had thought of placing him among\nthe senior boys. It was Louis' ignorance of Latin that placed him so low\nas the fourth class, but he would certainly leap up a class every year;\nand, as a remarkable exception, he was to be one of the \"Academy.\" _Proh\npudor_! we were to have the honor of counting among the \"little\nboys\" one whose coat was adorned with the red ribbon", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "loss of the fresh and fragrant country air in which he had hitherto\nlived, the change of habits and strict discipline, combined to depress\nLambert. With his elbow on his desk and his head supported on his left\nhand, he spent the hours of study gazing at the trees in the court or\nthe clouds in the sky; he seemed to be thinking of his lessons; but\nthe master, seeing his pen motionless, or the sheet before him still a\nblank, would call out:\n\n\"Lambert, you are doing nothing!\"\n\nThis \"_you are doing nothing", "forgotten--again an imposition. How often have we scribbled an exercise\nduring the time when the head-boy, whose business it was to collect them\nwhen we came into school, was gathering them from the others!\n\nIn addition to the moral misery which Lambert went through in trying\nto acclimatize himself to college life, there was a scarcely less cruel\napprenticeship through which every boy had to pass: to those bodily\nsufferings which seemed infinitely varied. The tenderness of a child's\nskin needs extreme care, especially in winter", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "and of\nabsorbing them to study them in their essence. Thus, the advantages of\nthis splendid stage, acquired by other men only after long study, were\nachieved by Lambert during his bodily childhood: a happy childhood,\ncolored by the studious joys of a born poet.\n\nThe point which most thinkers reach at last was to him the\nstarting-point, whence his brain was to set out one day in search of\nnew worlds of knowledge. Though as yet he knew it not, he had made for\nhimself the most exacting life possible,", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "Lambert said to me, \"Why, I saw this last night in a\ndream.\"\n\nHe recognized the clump of trees under which we were standing, the\ngrouping of the woods, the color of the water, the turrets of the\nchateau, the details, the distance, in fact every part of the prospect\nwhich we looked on for the first time. We were mere children; I, at any\nrate, who was but thirteen; Louis, at fifteen, might have the precocity\nof genius, but at that time we were incapable of falsehood in the most\n", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n" ], [ "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "ce; rich families\nsecured them long beforehand to have them ready when the lots were\ndrawn. The poor tanner's modest fortune did not allow of their\npurchasing a substitute for their son, and they saw no means allowed by\nlaw for evading the conscription but that of making him a priest; so,\nin 1807, they sent him to his maternal uncle, the parish priest of Mer,\nanother small town on the Loire, not far from Blois. This arrangement at\nonce satisfied Louis' passion for knowledge, and his parents' wish not", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "ustoms himself to the phenomena of life, steels himself\nto every moral or physical perception--an involuntary education which\nsubsequently brings forth fruit both in the understanding and character\nof a man; no, Louis mastered the facts, and he accounted for them after\nseeking out both the principle and the end with the mother wit of a\nsavage. Indeed, from the age of fourteen, by one of those startling\nfreaks in which nature sometimes indulges, and which proved how\nanomalous was his temperament, he would utter quite simply ideas of\nwhich", "she placed in the hands of Monsieur de Corbigny,\nwho died, I believe, in 1812, was not a sufficiently large sum to leave\nlasting memories in Madame de Stael, whose excitable nature found ample\npasture during the vicissitudes of 1814 and 1815, which absorbed all her\ninterest.\n\nAt this time Louis Lambert was at once too proud and too poor to go in\nsearch of a patroness who was traveling all over Europe. However, he\nwent on foot from Blois to Paris", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "carried him\noff to Paris, and placed him under the care of Monsieur Esquirol. All\nthrough our journey Louis sat sunk in almost unbroken torpor, and did\nnot recognize me. The Paris physicians pronounced him incurable, and\nunanimously advised his being left in perfect solitude, with nothing to\nbreak the silence that was needful for his very improbable recovery,\nand that he should live always in a cool room with a subdued\nlight.--Mademoiselle de Villenoix, whom I had been careful not to\napprise of", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "? Could it so early follow the flight of the Holy Spirit\nacross the worlds? Or was it merely attracted by the romantic touches\nwhich abound in those Oriental poems! Our narrative will answer these\nquestions to some readers.\n\nOne thing resulted from this first reading of the Bible: Louis went all\nover Montoire begging for books, and he obtained them by those winning\nways peculiar to children, which no one can resist. While devoting\nhimself to these studies under no sort of guidance, he reached the age\nof ten.\n\nAt that period substitutes for the army were scar", "to complain of\nsuffering. An eagle that needed the world to feed him, shut in between\nfour narrow, dirty walls; and thus this life became an ideal life in the\nstrictest meaning of the words. Filled as he was with contempt of the\nalmost useless studies to which we were harnessed, Louis went on his\nskyward way absolutely unconscious of the things about us.\n\nI, obeying the imitative instinct that is so strong in childhood, tired\nto regulate my life in conformity with his. And Louis the more easily\ninfected me with the", "ed themselves\ngradually to this artificial night.\n\n\"Monsieur is your old school-friend,\" she said to Louis.\n\nHe made no reply. At last I could see him, and it was one of those\nspectacles that are stamped on the memory for ever. He was standing, his\nelbows resting on the cornice of the low wainscot, which threw his body\nforward, so that it seemed bowed under the weight of his bent head. His\nhair was as long as a woman's, falling over his shoulders and hanging\nabout his face," ], [ "Louis must, assuredly, have\nfound much bitterness in his intercourse with men, or have striven hard\nwith Society in terrible irony, without extracting anything from it,\nbefore uttering so strident a cry, and expressing, poor fellow, the\ndesire which satiety of power and of all earthly things has led even\nmonarchs to indulge!\n\nAnd perhaps, too, he went back to solitude to carry out some great work\nthat was floating inchoate in his brain. We would gladly believe it as\nwe read this fragment of his thoughts", "itations.\n\n\"Inferior minds, to whom this swift mental vision is a thing unknown,\nwho are ignorant of the spirit's inner workings, laugh at the dreamer;\nand if he is subject to this kind of obliviousness, regard him as a\nmadman. Louis is always in this state; he soars perpetually through the\nspaces of thought, traversing them with the swiftness of a swallow; I\ncan follow him in his flight. This is the whole history of his madness.\nSome day, perhaps, Louis will come back to the life in which", "carried him\noff to Paris, and placed him under the care of Monsieur Esquirol. All\nthrough our journey Louis sat sunk in almost unbroken torpor, and did\nnot recognize me. The Paris physicians pronounced him incurable, and\nunanimously advised his being left in perfect solitude, with nothing to\nbreak the silence that was needful for his very improbable recovery,\nand that he should live always in a cool room with a subdued\nlight.--Mademoiselle de Villenoix, whom I had been careful not to\napprise of", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "influence over\nme. I was afraid to place myself again in that heavy atmosphere, where\necstasy was contagious. Any man would have felt, as I did, a longing\nto throw himself into the infinite, just as one soldier after another\nkilled himself in a certain sentry box where one had committed suicide\nin the camp at Boulogne. It is a known fact that Napoleon was obliged to\nhave the hut burned which had harbored an idea that had become a mortal\ninfection.\n\nLouis' room had perhaps the same fatal effect as that sentry", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "loved, whose accents, so painfully expected,\nhad seemed to be lost for ever. My eyes filled with tears in spite of\nevery effort. An involuntary instinct warned me, making me doubt whether\nLouis had really lost his reason. I was indeed well assured that he\nneither saw nor heard me; but the sweetness of his tone, which seemed\nto reveal heavenly happiness, gave his speech an amazing effect. These\nwords, the incomplete revelation of an unknown world, rang in our souls\nlike some glorious distant bells in the depth of a dark night. I was", "that Louis should not have had several previous\nattacks, since his habits of rapt thought and the character of his mind\nwould predispose him to them. But his temperament, physical and mental,\nwas so admirably balanced, that it had no doubt been able to resist the\ndemands on his strength. The excitement to which he had been wound up by\nthe anticipation of acute physical enjoyment, enhanced by a chaste life\nand a highly-strung soul, had no doubt led to these attacks, of which\nthe results are as little known as the cause.\n\n", ", reproduces it in his works. Two is the number of\n generation. Three is the number of Life which includes generation\n and offspring. Add the sum of four, and you have seven, the\n formula of Heaven. Above all is God; He is the Unit.\n\n\n\nAfter going in to see Louis once more, I took leave of his wife and\nwent home, lost in ideas so adverse to social life that, in spite of a\npromise to return to Villenoix, I did not go.\n\nThe sight of Louis had had some mysteriously sinister", "'s presence affect not to perceive\nthat Louis is mad.\"\n\nHe remained standing on the spot where I left him, watching me till I\nwas out of sight.\n\nI made my way to the chateau of Villenoix, not without deep agitation.\nMy thoughts were many at each step on this road, which Louis had so\noften trodden with a heart full of hopes, a soul spurred on by the\nmyriad darts of love. The shrubs, the trees, the turns of the winding\nroad where little gullies broke the", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "Will_. And\nwhen Monsieur Lefebvre spoke to me of Louis' first attack, I suddenly\nremembered a conversation we had had on the subject after reading a\nmedical book.\n\n\"Deep meditation and rapt ecstasy are perhaps the undeveloped germs of\ncatalepsy,\" he said in conclusion.\n\nOn the occasion when he so concisely formulated this idea, he had\nbeen trying to link mental phenomena together by a series of results,\nfollowing the processes of the intellect step by step, from their\nbeginnings as those simple, purely", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "as gold is crushed into\nround coin under the press; Louis Lambert suffered in every spot where\npain can touch the soul or the flesh. Stuck on a form, restricted to\nthe acreage of his desk, a victim of the strap and to a sickly frame,\ntortured in every sense, environed by distress--everything compelled\nhim to give his body up to the myriad tyrannies of school life; and,\nlike the martyrs who smiled in the midst of suffering, he took refuge in\nheaven, which lay open to his mind", "to complain of\nsuffering. An eagle that needed the world to feed him, shut in between\nfour narrow, dirty walls; and thus this life became an ideal life in the\nstrictest meaning of the words. Filled as he was with contempt of the\nalmost useless studies to which we were harnessed, Louis went on his\nskyward way absolutely unconscious of the things about us.\n\nI, obeying the imitative instinct that is so strong in childhood, tired\nto regulate my life in conformity with his. And Louis the more easily\ninfected me with the", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "become of me?\" said I. \"Is not my position a dreadful\none? _I_ have nothing here to uphold me!\" and I slapped my forehead.\n\nHe shook his head with a gentle gesture, gracious and sad, and we\nparted.\n\nAt that time Louis Lambert was about five feet five inches in height;\nhe grew no more. His countenance, which was full of expression, revealed\nhis sweet nature. Divine patience, developed by harsh usage, and the\nconstant concentration needed for his meditative life, had bereft his\neyes of the" ], [ "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "life of that mighty brain, which split up on every side perhaps,\nlike a too vast empire, would have been set forth in the narrative of\nthis man's visions--a being incomplete for lack of force or of weakness;\nbut I preferred to give an account of my own impressions rather than to\ncompose a more or less poetical romance.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert died at the age of twenty-eight, September 25, 1824, in\nhis true love's arms. He was buried by her desire in an island in the\npark", "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "observation he\nhad made in his childhood, though, to be sure, he had no suspicion then\nof its importance, but its singularity naturally struck his delicately\nalert imagination. His mother, a fragile, nervous woman, all\nsensitiveness and affection, was one of those beings created to\nrepresent womanhood in all the perfection of her attributes, but\nrelegated by a mistaken fate to too low a place in the social scale.\nWholly loving, and consequently wholly suffering, she died young, having\nthrown all her energies into her motherly love. Lambert", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "with a fixed gaze, never\nwinking his eyelids as we do. Having asked Mademoiselle de Villenoix\nwhether a little more light would hurt our friend, on her reply I opened\nthe shutters a little way, and could see the expression of Lambert's\ncountenance. Alas! he was wrinkled, white-headed, his eyes dull and\nlifeless as those of the blind. His features seemed all drawn upwards to\nthe top of his head. I made several attempts to talk to him, but he did\nnot hear me. He was a", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "!\"\n\n\n\nIn 1823 I traveled from Paris to Touraine by _diligence_. At Mer we took\nup a passenger for Blois. As the guard put him into that part of the\ncoach where I had my seat, he said jestingly:\n\n\"You will not be crowded, Monsieur Lefebvre!\"--I was, in fact, alone.\n\nOn hearing this name, and seeing a white-haired old man, who looked\neighty at least, I naturally thought of Lambert's uncle. After a few\ningenious questions", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "\n \"Believe me, dear uncle, it is hard to give up the life that is in\n us without a pang. I am returning to Blois with a heavy grip at my\n heart; I shall die then, taking with me some useful truths. No\n personal interest debases my regrets. Is earthly fame a guerdon to\n those who believe that they will mount to a higher sphere?\n\n \"I am by no means in love with the two syllables _Lam_ and _bert_;\n whether spoken with respect or with contempt over", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in", "a linnet that fell out\nof the nest because it tried to fly before its wings were grown. I\npersisted in my reading; I became the least emulous, the idlest, the\nmost dreamy of all the division of \"little boys,\" and consequently the\nmost frequently punished.\n\nThis autobiographical digression may give some idea of the reflections I\nwas led to make in anticipation of Lambert's arrival. I was then twelve\nyears old. I felt sympathy from the first for the boy whose temperament\nhad some points of likeness to", "bert's life since our parting.\nFrom Monsieur Lefebvre's account, Lambert had betrayed some symptoms of\nmadness before his marriage; but they were such as are common to men\nwho love passionately, and seemed to me less startling when I knew how\nvehement his love had been and when I saw Mademoiselle de Villenoix.\nIn the country, where ideas are scarce, a man overflowing with original\nthought and devoted to a system, as Louis was, might well be regarded\nas eccentric, to say the least. His", "\nOur life, apparently, was merely vegetating; but we lived through our\nheart and brain.\n\nLambert's influence over my imagination left traces that still abide.\nI used to listen hungrily to his tales, full of the marvels which make\nmen, as well as children, rapturously devour stories in which truth\nassumes the most grotesque forms. His passion for mystery, and the\ncredulity natural to the young, often led us to discuss Heaven and Hell.\nThen Louis, by expounding Swedenborg, would try to make me share", "loss of the fresh and fragrant country air in which he had hitherto\nlived, the change of habits and strict discipline, combined to depress\nLambert. With his elbow on his desk and his head supported on his left\nhand, he spent the hours of study gazing at the trees in the court or\nthe clouds in the sky; he seemed to be thinking of his lessons; but\nthe master, seeing his pen motionless, or the sheet before him still a\nblank, would call out:\n\n\"Lambert, you are doing nothing!\"\n\nThis \"_you are doing nothing", "Lambert said to me, \"Why, I saw this last night in a\ndream.\"\n\nHe recognized the clump of trees under which we were standing, the\ngrouping of the woods, the color of the water, the turrets of the\nchateau, the details, the distance, in fact every part of the prospect\nwhich we looked on for the first time. We were mere children; I, at any\nrate, who was but thirteen; Louis, at fifteen, might have the precocity\nof genius, but at that time we were incapable of falsehood in the most\n", "apparition. Even now there are days of depression, of doubt,\nalarm, and loneliness, when I am forced to repel the intrusion of that\nsad parting, though it was not fated to be the last.\n\nWhen I crossed the yard by which we left, Lambert was at one of the\nrefectory windows to see me pass. By my request my mother obtained leave\nfor him to dine with us at the inn, and in the evening I escorted him\nback to the fatal gate of the college. No lover and his mistress ever\nshed" ], [ "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "she placed in the hands of Monsieur de Corbigny,\nwho died, I believe, in 1812, was not a sufficiently large sum to leave\nlasting memories in Madame de Stael, whose excitable nature found ample\npasture during the vicissitudes of 1814 and 1815, which absorbed all her\ninterest.\n\nAt this time Louis Lambert was at once too proud and too poor to go in\nsearch of a patroness who was traveling all over Europe. However, he\nwent on foot from Blois to Paris", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "ired in his protectress. The transient favor she showed him was\nregarded as a feminine caprice, one of the fancies characteristic of\nartist souls. Madame de Stael determined to save Louis Lambert alike\nfrom serving the Emperor or the Church, and to preserve him for the\nglorious destiny which, she thought, awaited him; for she made him out\nto be a second Moses snatched from the waters. Before her departure she\ninstructed a friend of hers, Monsieur de Corbigny, to send her Moses in\ndue course to the High School at", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "augoult, who participated in our torments of curiosity, did not\nsound the whistle he used to reduce our mutterings to silence and bring\nus back to our tasks. We then saw this famous new boy, whom Monsieur\nMareschal was leading by the hand. The superintendent descended from his\ndesk, and the headmaster said to him solemnly, according to etiquette:\n\"Monsieur, I have brought you Monsieur Louis Lambert; will you place him\nin the fourth class? He will begin work to-morrow.\"\n\n", " GUTENBERG EBOOK LOUIS LAMBERT ***\n\n\n\n\nProduced by John Bickers, and Dagny\n\n\n\n\n\nLOUIS LAMBERT\n\n\nBy Honore De Balzac\n\n\nTranslated by Clara Bell and James Waring\n\n\n\n\n DEDICATION\n\n \"Et nunc et semper dilectoe dicatum.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nLOUIS LAMBERT\n\n\nLouis Lambert was born at Montoire, a little", "become of me?\" said I. \"Is not my position a dreadful\none? _I_ have nothing here to uphold me!\" and I slapped my forehead.\n\nHe shook his head with a gentle gesture, gracious and sad, and we\nparted.\n\nAt that time Louis Lambert was about five feet five inches in height;\nhe grew no more. His countenance, which was full of expression, revealed\nhis sweet nature. Divine patience, developed by harsh usage, and the\nconstant concentration needed for his meditative life, had bereft his\neyes of the", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school" ], [ "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "she placed in the hands of Monsieur de Corbigny,\nwho died, I believe, in 1812, was not a sufficiently large sum to leave\nlasting memories in Madame de Stael, whose excitable nature found ample\npasture during the vicissitudes of 1814 and 1815, which absorbed all her\ninterest.\n\nAt this time Louis Lambert was at once too proud and too poor to go in\nsearch of a patroness who was traveling all over Europe. However, he\nwent on foot from Blois to Paris", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "ired in his protectress. The transient favor she showed him was\nregarded as a feminine caprice, one of the fancies characteristic of\nartist souls. Madame de Stael determined to save Louis Lambert alike\nfrom serving the Emperor or the Church, and to preserve him for the\nglorious destiny which, she thought, awaited him; for she made him out\nto be a second Moses snatched from the waters. Before her departure she\ninstructed a friend of hers, Monsieur de Corbigny, to send her Moses in\ndue course to the High School at", "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "me with inexpressible affection,\n\"_Vir nobilis_!\"\n\nMadame de Stael was, in fact, partly the cause of Lambert's troubles. On\nevery pretext masters and pupils threw the name in his teeth, either in\nirony or in reproof.\n\nLouis lost no time in getting himself \"kept in\" to share my\nimprisonment. Freer thus than in any other circumstances, we could talk\nthe whole day long in the silence of the dormitories, where each boy had\na cubicle six feet square, the partitions consisting", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "\n\n\nNotwithstanding the difficulties of the task, I have felt it my duty to\ndepict Lambert's boyhood, the unknown life to which I owe the only happy\nhours, the only pleasant memories, of my early days. Excepting during\nthose two years I had nothing but annoyances and weariness. Though some\nhappiness was mine at a later time, it was always incomplete.\n\nI have been diffuse, I know; but in default of entering into the whole\nwide heart and brain of Louis Lambert--two words which inadequately\nexpress", "\"Do you understand all this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Do you pray to God?\" said the child.\n\n\"Why? yes!\"\n\n\"And do you understand Him?\"\n\nThe Baroness was silent for a moment; then she sat down by Lambert, and\nbegan to talk to him. Unfortunately, my memory, though retentive, is far\nfrom being so trustworthy as my friend's, and I have forgotten the whole\nof the dialogue excepting those first words.\n\nSuch a meeting was of a kind to strike Madame de Stael very greatly;\n", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev" ], [ "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "The letters that have by chance escaped destruction show very plainly a\ntransition from pure idealism to the most intense sensualism.\n\nTime was when Lambert and I had admired this phenomenon of the human\nmind, in which he saw the fortuitous separation of our two natures,\nand the signs of a total removal of the inner man, using its unknown\nfaculties under the operation of an unknown cause. This disorder, a\nmystery as deep as that of sleep, was connected with the scheme of\nevidence which Lambert had set forth in his _Treatise on the", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "eds?\n\nIn a moment they were no doubt ashamed of their baseness.\n\nFather Haugoult probably sold the _Treatise on the Will_ to a local\ngrocer, unconscious of the scientific treasure, of which the germs thus\nfell into unworthy hands.\n\n\n\nSix months later I left the school, and I do not know whether Lambert\never recommenced his labors. Our parting threw him into a mood of the\ndarkest melancholy.\n\nIt was in memory of the disaster that befell Louis' book that, in", "m, Pico della Mirandola, Pascal--in\nshort, a score of early developed brains, anomalies that are famous in\nthe history of the human mind, and Lambert's predecessors.\n\nI was at the time passionately addicted to reading. My father, who was\nambitious to see me in the Ecole Polytechnique, paid for me to have a\nspecial course of private lessons in mathematics. My mathematical master\nwas the librarian of the college, and allowed me to help myself to books\nwithout much caring what I chose to take from the", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "rought to the spot by the noise of a battle, Father Haugoult roughly\nintervened, inquiring as to the cause of the fight. Our enemies had\ninterrupted us in writing our impositions, and the class-master came to\nprotect his slaves. The foe, in self-defence, betrayed the existence of\nthe manuscript. The dreadful Haugoult insisted on our giving up the box;\nif we should resist, he would have it broken open. Lambert gave him the\nkey; the master took out the papers, glanced through them, and said", "\nOur life, apparently, was merely vegetating; but we lived through our\nheart and brain.\n\nLambert's influence over my imagination left traces that still abide.\nI used to listen hungrily to his tales, full of the marvels which make\nmen, as well as children, rapturously devour stories in which truth\nassumes the most grotesque forms. His passion for mystery, and the\ncredulity natural to the young, often led us to discuss Heaven and Hell.\nThen Louis, by expounding Swedenborg, would try to make me share", "ure had not, when this book was published, made\nhis appearance in public life as a lawyer. The translator of Fichte, the\nexpositor and friend of Ballanche, was already interested, as I myself\nwas, in metaphysical questions; we often talked nonsense together about\nGod, ourselves, and nature. He at that time affected pyrrhonism. Jealous\nof his place as leader, he doubted Lambert's precocious gifts; while\nI, having lately read _Les Enfants celebres_, overwhelmed him with\nevidence, quoting young Montcal", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "rifice sought to read the future in the hearts of men, he had found\nnothing in the entrails of his chimera. Scorning a sentiment so wholly\npersonal: \"Glory,\" said he, \"is but beatified egoism.\"\n\nHere, perhaps, before taking leave of this exceptional boyhood, I may\npronounce judgment on it by a rapid glance.\n\nA short time before our separation, Lambert said to me:\n\n\"Apart from the general laws which I have formulated--and this, perhaps,\nwill be my glory--laws which must", "of\nsuch lightning flashes of mind. To Lambert, then, Will and Thought were\n_living forces_; and he spoke of them in such a way as to impress his\nbelief on the hearer. To him these two forces were, in a way, visible,\ntangible. Thought was slow or alert, heavy or nimble, light or dark; he\nascribed to it all the attributes of an active agent, and thought of it\nas rising, resting, waking, expanding, growing old, shrinking, becoming\natrophied, or resuscitating; he described", "loss of the fresh and fragrant country air in which he had hitherto\nlived, the change of habits and strict discipline, combined to depress\nLambert. With his elbow on his desk and his head supported on his left\nhand, he spent the hours of study gazing at the trees in the court or\nthe clouds in the sky; he seemed to be thinking of his lessons; but\nthe master, seeing his pen motionless, or the sheet before him still a\nblank, would call out:\n\n\"Lambert, you are doing nothing!\"\n\nThis \"_you are doing nothing", "faculty of discerning the ideas which represent man in his purest\nessence, whose life, imperishable perhaps, escapes our grosser senses,\nthough they may become perceptible to the inner being when it has\nreached a high degree of ecstasy, or a great perfection of vision.\"\n\nI know--though my remembrance is now vague--that Lambert, by following\nthe results of Mind and Will step by step, after he had established\ntheir laws, accounted for a multitude of phenomena which, till then,\nhad been regarded with reason as", "to seek in the laws of nature for the causes of the\nmiracle which, in his childhood, had captivated his attention. What name\ncan be given to the chance which brought within his ken so many facts\nand books bearing on such phenomena, and made him the principal subject\nand actor in such marvelous manifestations of mind?\n\nIf Lambert had no other title to fame than the fact of his having\nformulated, in his sixteenth year, such a psychological dictum as\nthis:--\"The events which bear witness to the action of the human race,\nand are the", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "augoult, who participated in our torments of curiosity, did not\nsound the whistle he used to reduce our mutterings to silence and bring\nus back to our tasks. We then saw this famous new boy, whom Monsieur\nMareschal was leading by the hand. The superintendent descended from his\ndesk, and the headmaster said to him solemnly, according to etiquette:\n\"Monsieur, I have brought you Monsieur Louis Lambert; will you place him\nin the fourth class? He will begin work to-morrow.\"\n\n", "a linnet that fell out\nof the nest because it tried to fly before its wings were grown. I\npersisted in my reading; I became the least emulous, the idlest, the\nmost dreamy of all the division of \"little boys,\" and consequently the\nmost frequently punished.\n\nThis autobiographical digression may give some idea of the reflections I\nwas led to make in anticipation of Lambert's arrival. I was then twelve\nyears old. I felt sympathy from the first for the boy whose temperament\nhad some points of likeness to", "the man who bequeathed to me all he had to leave--his thoughts.\n\nIn that boyish effort Lambert had enshrined the ideas of a man. Ten\nyears later, when I met some learned men who were devoting serious\nattention to the phenomena that had struck us and that Lambert had so\nmarvelously analyzed, I understood the value of his work, then already\nforgotten as childish. I at once spent several months in recalling the\nprincipal theories discovered by my poor schoolmate. Having collected my\nreminiscences, I can" ], [ "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "agoras.\"\n\nI told him my name; when he heard it, the worthy man grew gloomier than\never.\n\n\"Then you have not heard his story?\" said he. \"My poor nephew was to be\nmarried to the richest heiress in Blois; but the day before his wedding\nhe went mad.\"\n\n\"Lambert! Mad!\" cried I in dismay. \"But from what cause? He had the\nfinest memory, the most strongly-constituted brain, the soundest\njudgment, I ever met with. Really a", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "apparition. Even now there are days of depression, of doubt,\nalarm, and loneliness, when I am forced to repel the intrusion of that\nsad parting, though it was not fated to be the last.\n\nWhen I crossed the yard by which we left, Lambert was at one of the\nrefectory windows to see me pass. By my request my mother obtained leave\nfor him to dine with us at the inn, and in the evening I escorted him\nback to the fatal gate of the college. No lover and his mistress ever\nshed", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "of suffering. And\n could not I, for you, Pauline, imitate the exquisite reserve of a\n woman? Since yesterday I have doubted my own power. If I could\n displease you once, if I failed once to understand you, I dread\n lest I should often be carried out of our happy circle by my evil\n demon. Supposing I were to have many of those dreadful moods, or\n that my unbounded love could not make up for the dark hours of my\n life--that I were doomed to remain such as I", "bert's life since our parting.\nFrom Monsieur Lefebvre's account, Lambert had betrayed some symptoms of\nmadness before his marriage; but they were such as are common to men\nwho love passionately, and seemed to me less startling when I knew how\nvehement his love had been and when I saw Mademoiselle de Villenoix.\nIn the country, where ideas are scarce, a man overflowing with original\nthought and devoted to a system, as Louis was, might well be regarded\nas eccentric, to say the least. His", "with a fixed gaze, never\nwinking his eyelids as we do. Having asked Mademoiselle de Villenoix\nwhether a little more light would hurt our friend, on her reply I opened\nthe shutters a little way, and could see the expression of Lambert's\ncountenance. Alas! he was wrinkled, white-headed, his eyes dull and\nlifeless as those of the blind. His features seemed all drawn upwards to\nthe top of his head. I made several attempts to talk to him, but he did\nnot hear me. He was a", "\nwhich, in those days, divided off the third row of boxes. On rising\nbetween the acts, he saw a young woman who had just come into the box\nnext him. The sight of this lady, who was young, pretty, well dressed,\nin a low bodice no doubt, and escorted by a man for whom her face\nbeamed with all the charms of love, produced such a terrible effect on\nLambert's soul and senses, that he was obliged to leave the theatre. If\nhe had not been controlled by some remaining glimmer of reason, which\nwas not", "herself almost crazy, it was splendid; but if she had\nunderstood and entered into his madness, she combined with the beauty\nof a noble heart a crowning effort of passion worthy to be studied and\nhonored.\n\nWhen I saw the tall turrets of the chateau, remembering how often\npoor Lambert must have thrilled at the sight of them, my heart beat\nanxiously. As I recalled the events of our boyhood, I was almost a\nsharer in his present life and situation. At last I reached a wide,\ndeserted courtyard", "observation he\nhad made in his childhood, though, to be sure, he had no suspicion then\nof its importance, but its singularity naturally struck his delicately\nalert imagination. His mother, a fragile, nervous woman, all\nsensitiveness and affection, was one of those beings created to\nrepresent womanhood in all the perfection of her attributes, but\nrelegated by a mistaken fate to too low a place in the social scale.\nWholly loving, and consequently wholly suffering, she died young, having\nthrown all her energies into her motherly love. Lambert", "no\nlonger surprised that Mademoiselle de Villenoix considered Lambert to\nbe perfectly sane. The life of the soul had perhaps subdued that of\nthe body. His faithful companion had, no doubt--as I had at that\nmoment--intuitions of that melodious and beautiful existence to which we\ngive the name of Heaven in its highest meaning.\n\nThis woman, this angel, always was with him, seated at her embroidery\nframe; and each time she drew the needle out she gazed at Lambert with\nsad and tender feeling. Unable", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "loss of the fresh and fragrant country air in which he had hitherto\nlived, the change of habits and strict discipline, combined to depress\nLambert. With his elbow on his desk and his head supported on his left\nhand, he spent the hours of study gazing at the trees in the court or\nthe clouds in the sky; he seemed to be thinking of his lessons; but\nthe master, seeing his pen motionless, or the sheet before him still a\nblank, would call out:\n\n\"Lambert, you are doing nothing!\"\n\nThis \"_you are doing nothing", "to see\n a perfect life and an exquisite poem in our rapturous love; to\n throw my soul into it, drown my powers, and wring from each hour\n the joys it has to give!\n\n \"Ah, my memories of love are crowding back upon me, the clouds of\n despair will lift. Farewell. I leave you now to be more entirely\n yours. My beloved soul, I look for a line, a word that may restore\n my peace of mind. Let me know whether I really grieved my Pauline,", "\n \"Believe me, dear uncle, it is hard to give up the life that is in\n us without a pang. I am returning to Blois with a heavy grip at my\n heart; I shall die then, taking with me some useful truths. No\n personal interest debases my regrets. Is earthly fame a guerdon to\n those who believe that they will mount to a higher sphere?\n\n \"I am by no means in love with the two syllables _Lam_ and _bert_;\n whether spoken with respect or with contempt over", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such" ], [ "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "carried him\noff to Paris, and placed him under the care of Monsieur Esquirol. All\nthrough our journey Louis sat sunk in almost unbroken torpor, and did\nnot recognize me. The Paris physicians pronounced him incurable, and\nunanimously advised his being left in perfect solitude, with nothing to\nbreak the silence that was needful for his very improbable recovery,\nand that he should live always in a cool room with a subdued\nlight.--Mademoiselle de Villenoix, whom I had been careful not to\napprise of", "loss of the fresh and fragrant country air in which he had hitherto\nlived, the change of habits and strict discipline, combined to depress\nLambert. With his elbow on his desk and his head supported on his left\nhand, he spent the hours of study gazing at the trees in the court or\nthe clouds in the sky; he seemed to be thinking of his lessons; but\nthe master, seeing his pen motionless, or the sheet before him still a\nblank, would call out:\n\n\"Lambert, you are doing nothing!\"\n\nThis \"_you are doing nothing", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "with a fixed gaze, never\nwinking his eyelids as we do. Having asked Mademoiselle de Villenoix\nwhether a little more light would hurt our friend, on her reply I opened\nthe shutters a little way, and could see the expression of Lambert's\ncountenance. Alas! he was wrinkled, white-headed, his eyes dull and\nlifeless as those of the blind. His features seemed all drawn upwards to\nthe top of his head. I made several attempts to talk to him, but he did\nnot hear me. He was a", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "no\nlonger surprised that Mademoiselle de Villenoix considered Lambert to\nbe perfectly sane. The life of the soul had perhaps subdued that of\nthe body. His faithful companion had, no doubt--as I had at that\nmoment--intuitions of that melodious and beautiful existence to which we\ngive the name of Heaven in its highest meaning.\n\nThis woman, this angel, always was with him, seated at her embroidery\nframe; and each time she drew the needle out she gazed at Lambert with\nsad and tender feeling. Unable", "agoras.\"\n\nI told him my name; when he heard it, the worthy man grew gloomier than\never.\n\n\"Then you have not heard his story?\" said he. \"My poor nephew was to be\nmarried to the richest heiress in Blois; but the day before his wedding\nhe went mad.\"\n\n\"Lambert! Mad!\" cried I in dismay. \"But from what cause? He had the\nfinest memory, the most strongly-constituted brain, the soundest\njudgment, I ever met with. Really a", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "me with inexpressible affection,\n\"_Vir nobilis_!\"\n\nMadame de Stael was, in fact, partly the cause of Lambert's troubles. On\nevery pretext masters and pupils threw the name in his teeth, either in\nirony or in reproof.\n\nLouis lost no time in getting himself \"kept in\" to share my\nimprisonment. Freer thus than in any other circumstances, we could talk\nthe whole day long in the silence of the dormitories, where each boy had\na cubicle six feet square, the partitions consisting", "bert's life since our parting.\nFrom Monsieur Lefebvre's account, Lambert had betrayed some symptoms of\nmadness before his marriage; but they were such as are common to men\nwho love passionately, and seemed to me less startling when I knew how\nvehement his love had been and when I saw Mademoiselle de Villenoix.\nIn the country, where ideas are scarce, a man overflowing with original\nthought and devoted to a system, as Louis was, might well be regarded\nas eccentric, to say the least. His", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "The letters that have by chance escaped destruction show very plainly a\ntransition from pure idealism to the most intense sensualism.\n\nTime was when Lambert and I had admired this phenomenon of the human\nmind, in which he saw the fortuitous separation of our two natures,\nand the signs of a total removal of the inner man, using its unknown\nfaculties under the operation of an unknown cause. This disorder, a\nmystery as deep as that of sleep, was connected with the scheme of\nevidence which Lambert had set forth in his _Treatise on the", "the stove, amused to see them dry and shrivel; or if the gloves escaped\nthe marauders, after getting wet they shrunk as they dried for want\nof care. No, gloves were impossible. Gloves were a privilege, and boys\ninsist on equality.\n\nLouis Lambert fell a victim to all these varieties of torment. Like\nmany contemplative men, who, when lost in thought, acquire a habit of\nmechanical motion, he had a mania for fidgeting with his shoes, and\ndestroyed them very quickly. His girlish complexion,", "augoult, who participated in our torments of curiosity, did not\nsound the whistle he used to reduce our mutterings to silence and bring\nus back to our tasks. We then saw this famous new boy, whom Monsieur\nMareschal was leading by the hand. The superintendent descended from his\ndesk, and the headmaster said to him solemnly, according to etiquette:\n\"Monsieur, I have brought you Monsieur Louis Lambert; will you place him\nin the fourth class? He will begin work to-morrow.\"\n\n", "Louis must, assuredly, have\nfound much bitterness in his intercourse with men, or have striven hard\nwith Society in terrible irony, without extracting anything from it,\nbefore uttering so strident a cry, and expressing, poor fellow, the\ndesire which satiety of power and of all earthly things has led even\nmonarchs to indulge!\n\nAnd perhaps, too, he went back to solitude to carry out some great work\nthat was floating inchoate in his brain. We would gladly believe it as\nwe read this fragment of his thoughts" ], [ "from that fine instinct of\ngrief that characterized the aged, I found a number of letters, too\nillegible ever to have been sent to Mademoiselle de Villenoix. My\nfamiliarity with Lambert's writing enabled me in time to decipher the\nhieroglyphics of this shorthand, the result of impatience and a frenzy\nof passion. Carried away by his feelings, he had written without being\nconscious of the irregularity of words too slow to express his thoughts.\nHe must have been compelled to copy these chaotic attempts, for", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in", "ulf whither the mind dare not venture, since his,\nflexible and firm as it was, was lost there. There all was mysterious,\nfor everything went on in that moral world, closed to most men, whose\nlaws were revealed to him--perhaps to his sorrow.\n\nWhen an accident threw me in the way of his uncle, the good man showed\nme into the room which Lambert had at that time lived in. I wanted to\nfind some vestiges of his writings, if he should have left any. There\namong his papers, untouched by the old man", "\n \"Believe me, dear uncle, it is hard to give up the life that is in\n us without a pang. I am returning to Blois with a heavy grip at my\n heart; I shall die then, taking with me some useful truths. No\n personal interest debases my regrets. Is earthly fame a guerdon to\n those who believe that they will mount to a higher sphere?\n\n \"I am by no means in love with the two syllables _Lam_ and _bert_;\n whether spoken with respect or with contempt over", "!\"\n\n\n\nIn 1823 I traveled from Paris to Touraine by _diligence_. At Mer we took\nup a passenger for Blois. As the guard put him into that part of the\ncoach where I had my seat, he said jestingly:\n\n\"You will not be crowded, Monsieur Lefebvre!\"--I was, in fact, alone.\n\nOn hearing this name, and seeing a white-haired old man, who looked\neighty at least, I naturally thought of Lambert's uncle. After a few\ningenious questions", "The letters that have by chance escaped destruction show very plainly a\ntransition from pure idealism to the most intense sensualism.\n\nTime was when Lambert and I had admired this phenomenon of the human\nmind, in which he saw the fortuitous separation of our two natures,\nand the signs of a total removal of the inner man, using its unknown\nfaculties under the operation of an unknown cause. This disorder, a\nmystery as deep as that of sleep, was connected with the scheme of\nevidence which Lambert had set forth in his _Treatise on the", "great genius--with too great a\npassion for mysticism perhaps; but the kindest heart in the world.\nSomething most extraordinary must have happened?\"\n\n\"I see you knew him well,\" said the priest.\n\nFrom Mer, till we reached Blois, we talked only of my poor friend, with\nlong digressions, by which I learned the facts I have already related in\nthe order of their interest. I confessed to his uncle the character of\nour studies and of his nephew's predominant ideas; then the old man told\nme of the events that had come into Lam", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "rought to the spot by the noise of a battle, Father Haugoult roughly\nintervened, inquiring as to the cause of the fight. Our enemies had\ninterrupted us in writing our impositions, and the class-master came to\nprotect his slaves. The foe, in self-defence, betrayed the existence of\nthe manuscript. The dreadful Haugoult insisted on our giving up the box;\nif we should resist, he would have it broken open. Lambert gave him the\nkey; the master took out the papers, glanced through them, and said", "could follow it,\nwould this melancholy logic comfort me for the loss of my nephew?\"\n\nLambert's uncle was one of those men who live only by their affections.\n\n\n\nI went to Villenoix on the following day. The kind old man accompanied\nme to the gates of Blois. When we were out on the road to Villenoix, he\nstopped me and said:\n\n\"As you may suppose, I do not go there. But do not forget what I have\nsaid; and in Mademoiselle de Villenoix", "aid of our tyrants, and came to seize, by force, a box that\ncontained the precious papers. Lambert and I defended it with incredible\ncourage. The trunk was locked, our aggressors could not open it, but\nthey tried to smash it in the struggle, a stroke of malignity at which\nwe shrieked with rage. Some of the boys, with a sense of justice, or\nstruck perhaps by our heroic defence, advised the attacking party to\nleave us in peace, crushing us with insulting contempt. But suddenly,\nb", "agoras.\"\n\nI told him my name; when he heard it, the worthy man grew gloomier than\never.\n\n\"Then you have not heard his story?\" said he. \"My poor nephew was to be\nmarried to the richest heiress in Blois; but the day before his wedding\nhe went mad.\"\n\n\"Lambert! Mad!\" cried I in dismay. \"But from what cause? He had the\nfinest memory, the most strongly-constituted brain, the soundest\njudgment, I ever met with. Really a" ], [ "reel. Still, I loved to plunge into that realm\nof mystery, invisible to the senses, in which every one likes to dwell,\nwhether he pictures it to himself under the indefinite ideal of the\nFuture, or clothes it in the more solid guise of romance. These violent\nrevulsions of the mind on itself gave me, without my knowing it, a\ncomprehension of its power, and accustomed me to the workings of the\nmind.\n\nLambert himself explained everything by his theory of the angels. To him\npure love--", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "by their ardent soul, thirsting for poetry, and filled\nwith the Divine Spirit. Thus, in their ignorance of the causes and their\nadmiration of the facts, they pleased their fancy by regarding that\ninner man as divine, and constructing a mystical universe. Hence we have\nangels! A lovely illusion which Lambert would never abandon, cherishing\nit even when the sword of his logic was cutting off their dazzling\nwings.\n\n\"Heaven,\" he would say, \"must, after all, be the survival of our\nperfected faculties", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "no\nlonger surprised that Mademoiselle de Villenoix considered Lambert to\nbe perfectly sane. The life of the soul had perhaps subdued that of\nthe body. His faithful companion had, no doubt--as I had at that\nmoment--intuitions of that melodious and beautiful existence to which we\ngive the name of Heaven in its highest meaning.\n\nThis woman, this angel, always was with him, seated at her embroidery\nframe; and each time she drew the needle out she gazed at Lambert with\nsad and tender feeling. Unable", "\nOur life, apparently, was merely vegetating; but we lived through our\nheart and brain.\n\nLambert's influence over my imagination left traces that still abide.\nI used to listen hungrily to his tales, full of the marvels which make\nmen, as well as children, rapturously devour stories in which truth\nassumes the most grotesque forms. His passion for mystery, and the\ncredulity natural to the young, often led us to discuss Heaven and Hell.\nThen Louis, by expounding Swedenborg, would try to make me share", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "\"Do you understand all this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Do you pray to God?\" said the child.\n\n\"Why? yes!\"\n\n\"And do you understand Him?\"\n\nThe Baroness was silent for a moment; then she sat down by Lambert, and\nbegan to talk to him. Unfortunately, my memory, though retentive, is far\nfrom being so trustworthy as my friend's, and I have forgotten the whole\nof the dialogue excepting those first words.\n\nSuch a meeting was of a kind to strike Madame de Stael very greatly;\n", "Lambert said to me, \"Why, I saw this last night in a\ndream.\"\n\nHe recognized the clump of trees under which we were standing, the\ngrouping of the woods, the color of the water, the turrets of the\nchateau, the details, the distance, in fact every part of the prospect\nwhich we looked on for the first time. We were mere children; I, at any\nrate, who was but thirteen; Louis, at fifteen, might have the precocity\nof genius, but at that time we were incapable of falsehood in the most\n", "said, with the kindness that endeared him to us all:\n\n\"Well, well, but make no noise; do not disturb the other classes.\"\n\nThese words set us free to play some little time before breakfast, and\nwe all gathered round Lambert while Monsieur Mareschal walked up and\ndown the courtyard with Father Haugoult.\n\nThere were about eighty of us little demons, as bold as birds of prey.\nThough we ourselves had all gone through this cruel novitiate, we showed\nno mercy on a newcomer, never sparing him", "herself almost crazy, it was splendid; but if she had\nunderstood and entered into his madness, she combined with the beauty\nof a noble heart a crowning effort of passion worthy to be studied and\nhonored.\n\nWhen I saw the tall turrets of the chateau, remembering how often\npoor Lambert must have thrilled at the sight of them, my heart beat\nanxiously. As I recalled the events of our boyhood, I was almost a\nsharer in his present life and situation. At last I reached a wide,\ndeserted courtyard", "wreck snatched from the grave, a conquest of life\nfrom death--or of death from life!\n\nI stayed for about an hour, sunk in unaccountable dreams, and lost in\npainful thought. I listened to Mademoiselle de Villenoix, who told me\nevery detail of this life--that of a child in arms.\n\nSuddenly Louis ceased rubbing his legs together, and said slowly:\n\n\"The angels are white.\"\n\nI cannot express the effect produced upon me by this utterance, by the\nsound of the voice I had", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "with a fixed gaze, never\nwinking his eyelids as we do. Having asked Mademoiselle de Villenoix\nwhether a little more light would hurt our friend, on her reply I opened\nthe shutters a little way, and could see the expression of Lambert's\ncountenance. Alas! he was wrinkled, white-headed, his eyes dull and\nlifeless as those of the blind. His features seemed all drawn upwards to\nthe top of his head. I made several attempts to talk to him, but he did\nnot hear me. He was a", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "that went to my heart.\n\nMademoiselle de Villenoix was at my side before I was aware of her\npresence, and noiselessly brought me a chair, which at first I would not\naccept. It was so dark that at first I saw Mademoiselle de Villenoix\nand Lambert only as two black masses perceived against the gloomy\nbackground. I presently sat down under the influence of the feeling that\ncomes over us, almost in spite of ourselves, under the obscure vault of\na church. My eyes, full of the bright sunshine, accustom", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", "\n \"Believe me, dear uncle, it is hard to give up the life that is in\n us without a pang. I am returning to Blois with a heavy grip at my\n heart; I shall die then, taking with me some useful truths. No\n personal interest debases my regrets. Is earthly fame a guerdon to\n those who believe that they will mount to a higher sphere?\n\n \"I am by no means in love with the two syllables _Lam_ and _bert_;\n whether spoken with respect or with contempt over", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in" ], [ "-fellows joined\nour two names; one was never spoken without the other, and to call\neither they always shouted \"Poet-and-Pythagoras!\" Some other names had\nbeen known coupled in a like manner. Thus for two years I was the\nschool friend of poor Louis Lambert; and during that time my life was\nso identified with his, that I am enabled now to write his intellectual\nbiography.\n\nIt was long before I fully knew the poetry and the wealth of ideas that\nlay hidden in my companion's heart and brain. It was not till", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "great genius--with too great a\npassion for mysticism perhaps; but the kindest heart in the world.\nSomething most extraordinary must have happened?\"\n\n\"I see you knew him well,\" said the priest.\n\nFrom Mer, till we reached Blois, we talked only of my poor friend, with\nlong digressions, by which I learned the facts I have already related in\nthe order of their interest. I confessed to his uncle the character of\nour studies and of his nephew's predominant ideas; then the old man told\nme of the events that had come into Lam", "ure had not, when this book was published, made\nhis appearance in public life as a lawyer. The translator of Fichte, the\nexpositor and friend of Ballanche, was already interested, as I myself\nwas, in metaphysical questions; we often talked nonsense together about\nGod, ourselves, and nature. He at that time affected pyrrhonism. Jealous\nof his place as leader, he doubted Lambert's precocious gifts; while\nI, having lately read _Les Enfants celebres_, overwhelmed him with\nevidence, quoting young Montcal", "\"Do you understand all this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Do you pray to God?\" said the child.\n\n\"Why? yes!\"\n\n\"And do you understand Him?\"\n\nThe Baroness was silent for a moment; then she sat down by Lambert, and\nbegan to talk to him. Unfortunately, my memory, though retentive, is far\nfrom being so trustworthy as my friend's, and I have forgotten the whole\nof the dialogue excepting those first words.\n\nSuch a meeting was of a kind to strike Madame de Stael very greatly;\n", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "Lambert said to me, \"Why, I saw this last night in a\ndream.\"\n\nHe recognized the clump of trees under which we were standing, the\ngrouping of the woods, the color of the water, the turrets of the\nchateau, the details, the distance, in fact every part of the prospect\nwhich we looked on for the first time. We were mere children; I, at any\nrate, who was but thirteen; Louis, at fifteen, might have the precocity\nof genius, but at that time we were incapable of falsehood in the most\n", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "and of\nabsorbing them to study them in their essence. Thus, the advantages of\nthis splendid stage, acquired by other men only after long study, were\nachieved by Lambert during his bodily childhood: a happy childhood,\ncolored by the studious joys of a born poet.\n\nThe point which most thinkers reach at last was to him the\nstarting-point, whence his brain was to set out one day in search of\nnew worlds of knowledge. Though as yet he knew it not, he had made for\nhimself the most exacting life possible,", "!\"\n\n\n\nIn 1823 I traveled from Paris to Touraine by _diligence_. At Mer we took\nup a passenger for Blois. As the guard put him into that part of the\ncoach where I had my seat, he said jestingly:\n\n\"You will not be crowded, Monsieur Lefebvre!\"--I was, in fact, alone.\n\nOn hearing this name, and seeing a white-haired old man, who looked\neighty at least, I naturally thought of Lambert's uncle. After a few\ningenious questions", "\nOur life, apparently, was merely vegetating; but we lived through our\nheart and brain.\n\nLambert's influence over my imagination left traces that still abide.\nI used to listen hungrily to his tales, full of the marvels which make\nmen, as well as children, rapturously devour stories in which truth\nassumes the most grotesque forms. His passion for mystery, and the\ncredulity natural to the young, often led us to discuss Heaven and Hell.\nThen Louis, by expounding Swedenborg, would try to make me share" ], [ "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "is only now, at a later day, that I can thus give an account of its\nprodigious fruit and results. Lambert was now thirteen.\n\nI was so fortunate as to witness the first stage of the second period.\nLambert was cast into all the miseries of school-life--and that,\nperhaps, was his salvation--it absorbed the superabundance of his\nthoughts. After passing from concrete ideas to their purest expression,\nfrom words to their ideal import, and from that import to principles,\nafter reducing everything to the abstract, to enable him", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "loss of the fresh and fragrant country air in which he had hitherto\nlived, the change of habits and strict discipline, combined to depress\nLambert. With his elbow on his desk and his head supported on his left\nhand, he spent the hours of study gazing at the trees in the court or\nthe clouds in the sky; he seemed to be thinking of his lessons; but\nthe master, seeing his pen motionless, or the sheet before him still a\nblank, would call out:\n\n\"Lambert, you are doing nothing!\"\n\nThis \"_you are doing nothing", "announcement of my departure reduced Lambert to\ndreadful dejection.\n\n\"Shall I ever seen you again?\" said he in his gentle voice, as he\nclasped me in his arms. \"You will live,\" he went on, \"but I shall die.\nIf I can, I will come back to you.\"\n\nOnly the young can utter such words with the accent of conviction that\ngives them the impressiveness of prophecy, of a pledge, leaving a terror\nof its fulfilment. For a long time indeed I vaguely looked for the\npromised", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "bert's life since our parting.\nFrom Monsieur Lefebvre's account, Lambert had betrayed some symptoms of\nmadness before his marriage; but they were such as are common to men\nwho love passionately, and seemed to me less startling when I knew how\nvehement his love had been and when I saw Mademoiselle de Villenoix.\nIn the country, where ideas are scarce, a man overflowing with original\nthought and devoted to a system, as Louis was, might well be regarded\nas eccentric, to say the least. His", "that in them the heart should be nearer to the\nbrain!\"\n\nThen he went on:\n\n\"From that, a sum-total of action takes its rise which constitutes\nsocial life. The man of sinew contributes action or strength; the man\nof brain, genius; the man of heart, faith. But,\" he added sadly, \"faith\nsees only the clouds of the sanctuary; the Angel alone has light.\"\n\nSo, according to his own definitions, Lambert was all brain and all\nheart. It seems to me that his intellectual life was divided into", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "\n\n\nNotwithstanding the difficulties of the task, I have felt it my duty to\ndepict Lambert's boyhood, the unknown life to which I owe the only happy\nhours, the only pleasant memories, of my early days. Excepting during\nthose two years I had nothing but annoyances and weariness. Though some\nhappiness was mine at a later time, it was always incomplete.\n\nI have been diffuse, I know; but in default of entering into the whole\nwide heart and brain of Louis Lambert--two words which inadequately\nexpress", "and of\nabsorbing them to study them in their essence. Thus, the advantages of\nthis splendid stage, acquired by other men only after long study, were\nachieved by Lambert during his bodily childhood: a happy childhood,\ncolored by the studious joys of a born poet.\n\nThe point which most thinkers reach at last was to him the\nstarting-point, whence his brain was to set out one day in search of\nnew worlds of knowledge. Though as yet he knew it not, he had made for\nhimself the most exacting life possible,", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "a linnet that fell out\nof the nest because it tried to fly before its wings were grown. I\npersisted in my reading; I became the least emulous, the idlest, the\nmost dreamy of all the division of \"little boys,\" and consequently the\nmost frequently punished.\n\nThis autobiographical digression may give some idea of the reflections I\nwas led to make in anticipation of Lambert's arrival. I was then twelve\nyears old. I felt sympathy from the first for the boy whose temperament\nhad some points of likeness to", "augoult, who participated in our torments of curiosity, did not\nsound the whistle he used to reduce our mutterings to silence and bring\nus back to our tasks. We then saw this famous new boy, whom Monsieur\nMareschal was leading by the hand. The superintendent descended from his\ndesk, and the headmaster said to him solemnly, according to etiquette:\n\"Monsieur, I have brought you Monsieur Louis Lambert; will you place him\nin the fourth class? He will begin work to-morrow.\"\n\n" ], [ "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "\n\nLambert's ideas, suddenly illuminated by this flash of light, assumed\nvaster proportions; he disentangled certain truths from his many\nacquisitions and brought them into order; then, like a founder, he cast\nthe model of his work. At the end of six months' indefatigable labor,\nLambert's writings excited the curiosity of our companions, and became\nthe object of cruel practical jokes which led to a fatal issue.\n\nOne day one of the masters, who was bent on seeing the manuscripts,\nenlisted the", "forgotten--again an imposition. How often have we scribbled an exercise\nduring the time when the head-boy, whose business it was to collect them\nwhen we came into school, was gathering them from the others!\n\nIn addition to the moral misery which Lambert went through in trying\nto acclimatize himself to college life, there was a scarcely less cruel\napprenticeship through which every boy had to pass: to those bodily\nsufferings which seemed infinitely varied. The tenderness of a child's\nskin needs extreme care, especially in winter", "-fellows joined\nour two names; one was never spoken without the other, and to call\neither they always shouted \"Poet-and-Pythagoras!\" Some other names had\nbeen known coupled in a like manner. Thus for two years I was the\nschool friend of poor Louis Lambert; and during that time my life was\nso identified with his, that I am enabled now to write his intellectual\nbiography.\n\nIt was long before I fully knew the poetry and the wealth of ideas that\nlay hidden in my companion's heart and brain. It was not till", "said, with the kindness that endeared him to us all:\n\n\"Well, well, but make no noise; do not disturb the other classes.\"\n\nThese words set us free to play some little time before breakfast, and\nwe all gathered round Lambert while Monsieur Mareschal walked up and\ndown the courtyard with Father Haugoult.\n\nThere were about eighty of us little demons, as bold as birds of prey.\nThough we ourselves had all gone through this cruel novitiate, we showed\nno mercy on a newcomer, never sparing him", "the sun, giving him an\nappearance of manly vigor, which, in fact, he did not possess. Indeed,\ntwo months after he came to the college, when studying in the classroom\nhad faded his vivid, so to speak, vegetable coloring, he became as pale\nand white as a woman.\n\nHis head was unusually large. His hair, of a fine, bright black in\nmasses of curls, gave wonderful beauty to his brow, of which the\nproportions were extraordinary even to us heedless boys, knowing\nnothing, as may be supposed,", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n", "\n\nBut Lambert at that time was an even greater wonder. Monsieur Mareschal,\nthe headmaster, after examining him, had thought of placing him among\nthe senior boys. It was Louis' ignorance of Latin that placed him so low\nas the fourth class, but he would certainly leap up a class every year;\nand, as a remarkable exception, he was to be one of the \"Academy.\" _Proh\npudor_! we were to have the honor of counting among the \"little\nboys\" one whose coat was adorned with the red ribbon", "the mockery, the catechism,\nthe impertinence, which were inexhaustible on such occasions, to the\ndiscomfiture of the neophyte, whose manners, strength, and temper were\nthus tested. Lambert, whether he was stoical or dumfounded, made no\nreply to any questions. One of us thereupon remarked that he was no\ndoubt of the school of Pythagoras, and there was a shout of laughter.\nThe new boy was thenceforth Pythagoras through all his life at", "me with inexpressible affection,\n\"_Vir nobilis_!\"\n\nMadame de Stael was, in fact, partly the cause of Lambert's troubles. On\nevery pretext masters and pupils threw the name in his teeth, either in\nirony or in reproof.\n\nLouis lost no time in getting himself \"kept in\" to share my\nimprisonment. Freer thus than in any other circumstances, we could talk\nthe whole day long in the silence of the dormitories, where each boy had\na cubicle six feet square, the partitions consisting", "class-master's desk, steadying the table with\nhis feet on the cross-bar below, and said:\n\n\"Now, ten of you try to move it!\"\n\nI was present, and can vouch for this strange display of strength; it\nwas impossible to move the table.\n\nLambert had the gift of summoning to his aid at certain times the most\nextraordinary powers, and of concentrating all his forces on a given\npoint. But children, like men, are wont to judge of everything by first\nimpressions, and after the first few days", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", "during lesson time and play hours. This strange\nstate of affairs inevitably and in fact placed us on a footing of war\nwith all the other boys in our division. Forgotten for the most part, we\nsat there very contentedly; half happy, like two plants, two images\nwho would have been missed from the furniture of the room. But the most\naggressive of our schoolfellows would sometimes torment us, just to\nshow their malignant power, and we responded with stolid contempt, which\nbrought many a thrashing down on the Poet-and-", "augoult, who participated in our torments of curiosity, did not\nsound the whistle he used to reduce our mutterings to silence and bring\nus back to our tasks. We then saw this famous new boy, whom Monsieur\nMareschal was leading by the hand. The superintendent descended from his\ndesk, and the headmaster said to him solemnly, according to etiquette:\n\"Monsieur, I have brought you Monsieur Louis Lambert; will you place him\nin the fourth class? He will begin work to-morrow.\"\n\n", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "a linnet that fell out\nof the nest because it tried to fly before its wings were grown. I\npersisted in my reading; I became the least emulous, the idlest, the\nmost dreamy of all the division of \"little boys,\" and consequently the\nmost frequently punished.\n\nThis autobiographical digression may give some idea of the reflections I\nwas led to make in anticipation of Lambert's arrival. I was then twelve\nyears old. I felt sympathy from the first for the boy whose temperament\nhad some points of likeness to", "the stove, amused to see them dry and shrivel; or if the gloves escaped\nthe marauders, after getting wet they shrunk as they dried for want\nof care. No, gloves were impossible. Gloves were a privilege, and boys\ninsist on equality.\n\nLouis Lambert fell a victim to all these varieties of torment. Like\nmany contemplative men, who, when lost in thought, acquire a habit of\nmechanical motion, he had a mania for fidgeting with his shoes, and\ndestroyed them very quickly. His girlish complexion,", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H" ], [ "she placed in the hands of Monsieur de Corbigny,\nwho died, I believe, in 1812, was not a sufficiently large sum to leave\nlasting memories in Madame de Stael, whose excitable nature found ample\npasture during the vicissitudes of 1814 and 1815, which absorbed all her\ninterest.\n\nAt this time Louis Lambert was at once too proud and too poor to go in\nsearch of a patroness who was traveling all over Europe. However, he\nwent on foot from Blois to Paris", "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "ired in his protectress. The transient favor she showed him was\nregarded as a feminine caprice, one of the fancies characteristic of\nartist souls. Madame de Stael determined to save Louis Lambert alike\nfrom serving the Emperor or the Church, and to preserve him for the\nglorious destiny which, she thought, awaited him; for she made him out\nto be a second Moses snatched from the waters. Before her departure she\ninstructed a friend of hers, Monsieur de Corbigny, to send her Moses in\ndue course to the High School at", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "me with inexpressible affection,\n\"_Vir nobilis_!\"\n\nMadame de Stael was, in fact, partly the cause of Lambert's troubles. On\nevery pretext masters and pupils threw the name in his teeth, either in\nirony or in reproof.\n\nLouis lost no time in getting himself \"kept in\" to share my\nimprisonment. Freer thus than in any other circumstances, we could talk\nthe whole day long in the silence of the dormitories, where each boy had\na cubicle six feet square, the partitions consisting", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "\"Do you understand all this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Do you pray to God?\" said the child.\n\n\"Why? yes!\"\n\n\"And do you understand Him?\"\n\nThe Baroness was silent for a moment; then she sat down by Lambert, and\nbegan to talk to him. Unfortunately, my memory, though retentive, is far\nfrom being so trustworthy as my friend's, and I have forgotten the whole\nof the dialogue excepting those first words.\n\nSuch a meeting was of a kind to strike Madame de Stael very greatly;\n", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "\n\n\nNotwithstanding the difficulties of the task, I have felt it my duty to\ndepict Lambert's boyhood, the unknown life to which I owe the only happy\nhours, the only pleasant memories, of my early days. Excepting during\nthose two years I had nothing but annoyances and weariness. Though some\nhappiness was mine at a later time, it was always incomplete.\n\nI have been diffuse, I know; but in default of entering into the whole\nwide heart and brain of Louis Lambert--two words which inadequately\nexpress", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "Vendome; then she probably forgot him.\n\n\n\nHaving entered this college at the age of fourteen, early in 1811,\nLambert would leave it at the end of 1814, when he had finished the\ncourse of Philosophy. I doubt whether during the whole time he ever\nheard a word of his benefactress--if indeed it was the act of a\nbenefactress to pay for a lad's schooling for three years without a\nthought of his future prospects, after diverting him from a career in\nwhich he might", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "carried him\noff to Paris, and placed him under the care of Monsieur Esquirol. All\nthrough our journey Louis sat sunk in almost unbroken torpor, and did\nnot recognize me. The Paris physicians pronounced him incurable, and\nunanimously advised his being left in perfect solitude, with nothing to\nbreak the silence that was needful for his very improbable recovery,\nand that he should live always in a cool room with a subdued\nlight.--Mademoiselle de Villenoix, whom I had been careful not to\napprise of" ], [ ", by Madame\nde Stael, in a corner of the wood. Monsieur Haugoult had to tell us all\nabout Madame de Stael; that evening she seemed to me ten feet high; I\nsaw at a later time the picture of Corinne, in which Gerard represents\nher as so tall and handsome; and, alas! the woman painted by my\nimagination so far transcended this, that the real Madame de Stael fell\nat once in my estimation, even after I read her book of really masculine\npower, _De l'Allemagne_.", "she placed in the hands of Monsieur de Corbigny,\nwho died, I believe, in 1812, was not a sufficiently large sum to leave\nlasting memories in Madame de Stael, whose excitable nature found ample\npasture during the vicissitudes of 1814 and 1815, which absorbed all her\ninterest.\n\nAt this time Louis Lambert was at once too proud and too poor to go in\nsearch of a patroness who was traveling all over Europe. However, he\nwent on foot from Blois to Paris", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "the skirts of the park the tanner's\nson, almost in rags, and absorbed in reading. The book was a translation\nof _Heaven and Hell_. At that time Monsieur Saint-Martin, Monsieur de\nGence, and a few other French or half German writers were almost the\nonly persons in the French Empire to whom the name of Swedenborg was\nknown. Madame de Stael, greatly surprised, took the book from him with\nthe roughness she affected in her questions, looks, and manners, and\nwith a keen glance at Lambert,--\n\n", "on her return home she said but little about it, notwithstanding an\neffusiveness which in her became mere loquacity; but it evidently\noccupied her thoughts.\n\nThe only person now living who preserves any recollection of the\nincident, and whom I catechised to be informed of what few words Madame\nde Stael had let drop, could with difficulty recall these words spoken\nby the Baroness as describing Lambert, \"He is a real seer.\"\n\nLouis failed to justify in the eyes of the world the high hopes he had\ninsp", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "\"Do you understand all this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Do you pray to God?\" said the child.\n\n\"Why? yes!\"\n\n\"And do you understand Him?\"\n\nThe Baroness was silent for a moment; then she sat down by Lambert, and\nbegan to talk to him. Unfortunately, my memory, though retentive, is far\nfrom being so trustworthy as my friend's, and I have forgotten the whole\nof the dialogue excepting those first words.\n\nSuch a meeting was of a kind to strike Madame de Stael very greatly;\n", "ired in his protectress. The transient favor she showed him was\nregarded as a feminine caprice, one of the fancies characteristic of\nartist souls. Madame de Stael determined to save Louis Lambert alike\nfrom serving the Emperor or the Church, and to preserve him for the\nglorious destiny which, she thought, awaited him; for she made him out\nto be a second Moses snatched from the waters. Before her departure she\ninstructed a friend of hers, Monsieur de Corbigny, to send her Moses in\ndue course to the High School at", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such", "?\" said the Father sharply.\n\nAnd there was a roar of laughter, while Lambert looked at the master in\nsome bewilderment.\n\n\"What would Madame la Baronne de Stael say if she could know that you\nmake such nonsense of a word that means noble family, of patrician\nrank?\"\n\n\"She would say that you were an ass!\" said I in a muttered tone.\n\n\"Master Poet, you will stay in for a week,\" replied the master, who\nunfortunately overheard me.\n\nLambert simply repeated, looking at", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "me with inexpressible affection,\n\"_Vir nobilis_!\"\n\nMadame de Stael was, in fact, partly the cause of Lambert's troubles. On\nevery pretext masters and pupils threw the name in his teeth, either in\nirony or in reproof.\n\nLouis lost no time in getting himself \"kept in\" to share my\nimprisonment. Freer thus than in any other circumstances, we could talk\nthe whole day long in the silence of the dormitories, where each boy had\na cubicle six feet square, the partitions consisting", "the fourth, and an Academician! This boy of\nfourteen, a poet already, the protege of Madame de Stael, a coming\ngenius, said Father Haugoult, was to be one of us! a wizard, a youth\ncapable of writing a composition or a translation while we were being\ncalled into lessons, and of learning his lessons by reading them through\nbut once. Louis Lambert bewildered all our ideas. And Father Haugoult's\ncuriosity and impatience to see this new boy added fuel to our excited\nfancy.\n\n", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "bert's life since our parting.\nFrom Monsieur Lefebvre's account, Lambert had betrayed some symptoms of\nmadness before his marriage; but they were such as are common to men\nwho love passionately, and seemed to me less startling when I knew how\nvehement his love had been and when I saw Mademoiselle de Villenoix.\nIn the country, where ideas are scarce, a man overflowing with original\nthought and devoted to a system, as Louis was, might well be regarded\nas eccentric, to say the least. His", "my own. I was at last to have a companion\nin daydreams and meditations. Though I knew not yet what glory meant, I\nthought it glory to be the familiar friend of a child whose immortality\nwas foreseen by Madame de Stael. To me Louis Lambert was as a giant.\n\nThe looked-for morrow came at last. A minute before breakfast we\nheard the steps of Monsieur Mareschal and of the new boy in the quiet\ncourtyard. Every head was turned at once to the door of the classroom.\nFather H", "not secure\na country squire, his niece should go to Paris and make choice of\na husband among the peers of France, liberal or monarchical; as to\nhappiness, that he believed he could secure her by the terms of the\nmarriage contract.\n\nMademoiselle de Villenoix was now twenty. Her remarkable beauty and\ngifts of mind were surer guarantees of happiness than those offered by\nmoney. Her features were of the purest type of Jewish beauty; the oval\nlines, so noble and maidenly, have an indescribable stamp", "language would, no doubt, seem the\nstranger because he so rarely spoke. He would say, \"That man does not\ndwell in heaven,\" where any one else would have said, \"We are not made\non the same pattern.\" Every clever man has his own quirks of speech.\nThe broader his genius, the more conspicuous are the singularities\nwhich constitute the various degrees of eccentricity. In the country an\neccentric man is at once set down as half mad.\n\nHence Monsieur Lefebvre's first sentences left me doubtful of", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively" ], [ "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "the force of Ideas or the Will of man?\" he would say. \"From this effect,\nproduced by the Will of all, each man may draw conclusions in favor of\nhis own.\"\n\nI need say nothing of his views on poetry or history, nor of his\njudgment on the masterpieces of our language. There would be little\ninterest in the record of opinions now almost universally held, though\nat that time, from the lips of a boy, they might seem remarkable. Louis\nwas capable of the highest flights. To give a notion of his talents in\na few words,", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "to complain of\nsuffering. An eagle that needed the world to feed him, shut in between\nfour narrow, dirty walls; and thus this life became an ideal life in the\nstrictest meaning of the words. Filled as he was with contempt of the\nalmost useless studies to which we were harnessed, Louis went on his\nskyward way absolutely unconscious of the things about us.\n\nI, obeying the imitative instinct that is so strong in childhood, tired\nto regulate my life in conformity with his. And Louis the more easily\ninfected me with the", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "ustoms himself to the phenomena of life, steels himself\nto every moral or physical perception--an involuntary education which\nsubsequently brings forth fruit both in the understanding and character\nof a man; no, Louis mastered the facts, and he accounted for them after\nseeking out both the principle and the end with the mother wit of a\nsavage. Indeed, from the age of fourteen, by one of those startling\nfreaks in which nature sometimes indulges, and which proved how\nanomalous was his temperament, he would utter quite simply ideas of\nwhich", "\n\n\nNotwithstanding the difficulties of the task, I have felt it my duty to\ndepict Lambert's boyhood, the unknown life to which I owe the only happy\nhours, the only pleasant memories, of my early days. Excepting during\nthose two years I had nothing but annoyances and weariness. Though some\nhappiness was mine at a later time, it was always incomplete.\n\nI have been diffuse, I know; but in default of entering into the whole\nwide heart and brain of Louis Lambert--two words which inadequately\nexpress", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "being purer, are the more genuine,\nmust transcend the wail even of genius.\n\nAfter sitting for a long time with his eyes fixed on a lime-tree in the\nplayground, Louis would say just a word; but that word would reveal an\ninfinite speculation.\n\n\"Happily for me,\" he exclaimed one day, \"there are hours of comfort when\nI feel as though the walls of the room had fallen and I were away--away\nin the fields! What a pleasure it is to let oneself go on the stream of\none's thoughts as", "the sun, giving him an\nappearance of manly vigor, which, in fact, he did not possess. Indeed,\ntwo months after he came to the college, when studying in the classroom\nhad faded his vivid, so to speak, vegetable coloring, he became as pale\nand white as a woman.\n\nHis head was unusually large. His hair, of a fine, bright black in\nmasses of curls, gave wonderful beauty to his brow, of which the\nproportions were extraordinary even to us heedless boys, knowing\nnothing, as may be supposed,", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "and abbeys. As a priest who had taken the oath,\nthe worthy man had been able to choose the best books from among these\nprecious libraries, which were sold by the pound. In three years Louis\nLambert had assimilated the contents of all the books in his uncle's\nlibrary that were worth reading. The process of absorbing ideas by means\nof reading had become in him a very strange phenomenon. His eye took\nin six or seven lines at once, and his mind grasped the sense with a\nswiftness as remarkable as that of his eye; sometimes even one", "them. Louis, at first purely\nSpiritualist, had been irresistibly led to recognize the Material\nconditions of Mind. Confounded by the facts of analysis at the moment\nwhen his heart still gazed with yearning at the clouds which floated\nin Swedenborg's heaven, he had not yet acquired the necessary powers to\nproduce a coherent system, compactly cast in a piece, as it were. Hence\ncertain inconsistencies that have left their stamp even on the sketch\nhere given of his first attempts. Still, incomplete as his work may\nhave been,", "the\nprodigious activity of his spirit feeding on itself. Louis had sought\nfor proofs of his theories in the history of great men, whose lives, as\nset forth by their biographers, supply very curious particulars as to\nthe operation of their understanding. His memory allowed him to recall\nsuch facts as might serve to support his statements; he had appended\nthem to each chapter in the form of demonstrations, so as to give to\nmany of his theories an almost mathematical certainty. The works of\nCardan, a man gifted with singular powers of insight, supplied him with\n", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev", "Louis must, assuredly, have\nfound much bitterness in his intercourse with men, or have striven hard\nwith Society in terrible irony, without extracting anything from it,\nbefore uttering so strident a cry, and expressing, poor fellow, the\ndesire which satiety of power and of all earthly things has led even\nmonarchs to indulge!\n\nAnd perhaps, too, he went back to solitude to carry out some great work\nthat was floating inchoate in his brain. We would gladly believe it as\nwe read this fragment of his thoughts", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars" ], [ "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "an adventure as\nLouis Lambert's was calculated to produce.\n\nAnd here a little information must be given as to the primitive\nadministration of this institution, originally half-military and\nhalf-monastic, to explain the new life which there awaited Lambert.\nBefore the Revolution, the Oratorians, devoted, like the Society of\nJesus, to the education of youth--succeeding the Jesuits, in fact, in\ncertain of their establishments--the colleges of Vendome, of Tournon,\nof la Fleche, Pont-Lev", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "Louis must, assuredly, have\nfound much bitterness in his intercourse with men, or have striven hard\nwith Society in terrible irony, without extracting anything from it,\nbefore uttering so strident a cry, and expressing, poor fellow, the\ndesire which satiety of power and of all earthly things has led even\nmonarchs to indulge!\n\nAnd perhaps, too, he went back to solitude to carry out some great work\nthat was floating inchoate in his brain. We would gladly believe it as\nwe read this fragment of his thoughts", "_!\" was a pin-thrust that wounded Louis to\nthe quick. And then he never earned the rest of the play-time; he always\nhad impositions to write. The imposition, a punishment which varies\naccording to the practice of different schools, consisted at Vendome of\na certain number of lines to be written out in play hours. Lambert and\nI were so overpowered with impositions, that we had not six free days\nduring the two years of our school friendship. But for the books we took\nout of the library, which maintained some vitality in our", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "ce; rich families\nsecured them long beforehand to have them ready when the lots were\ndrawn. The poor tanner's modest fortune did not allow of their\npurchasing a substitute for their son, and they saw no means allowed by\nlaw for evading the conscription but that of making him a priest; so,\nin 1807, they sent him to his maternal uncle, the parish priest of Mer,\nanother small town on the Loire, not far from Blois. This arrangement at\nonce satisfied Louis' passion for knowledge, and his parents' wish not", "to complain of\nsuffering. An eagle that needed the world to feed him, shut in between\nfour narrow, dirty walls; and thus this life became an ideal life in the\nstrictest meaning of the words. Filled as he was with contempt of the\nalmost useless studies to which we were harnessed, Louis went on his\nskyward way absolutely unconscious of the things about us.\n\nI, obeying the imitative instinct that is so strong in childhood, tired\nto regulate my life in conformity with his. And Louis the more easily\ninfected me with the", "\n\n\nWhen Louis returned to Blois, his uncle was eager to procure him some\namusement; but the poor priest was regarded as a perfect leper in that\ngodly-minded town. No one would have anything to say to a revolutionary\nwho had taken the oaths. His society, therefore, consisted of a\nfew individuals of what were then called liberal or patriotic, or\nconstitutional opinions, on whom he would call for a rubber of whist or\nof boston.\n\nAt the first house where he was introduced by his uncle, Louis met a\nyoung lady,", "in the hope of seeing her, and arrived,\nunluckily, on the very day of her death. Two letters from Lambert to\nthe Baroness remained unanswered. The memory of Madame de Stael's good\nintentions with regard to Louis remains, therefore, only in some few\nyoung minds, struck, as mine was, by the strangeness of the story.\n\nNo one who had not gone through the training at our college could\nunderstand the effect usually made on our minds by the announcement that\na \"new boy\" had arrived, or the impression that such" ], [ "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "to a woman's sweet and loving nature. She had\nnot, indeed, the rosy freshness, the fruit-like bloom which blush on a\ngirl's cheek during her careless years. Darker shadows, with here\nand there a redder vein, took the place of color, symptomatic of an\nenergetic temper and nervous irritability, such as many men do not like\nto meet with in a wife, while to others they are an indication of the\nmost sensitive chastity and passion mingled with pride.\n\nAs soon as Louis saw Madem", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "\n\n\nWhen Louis returned to Blois, his uncle was eager to procure him some\namusement; but the poor priest was regarded as a perfect leper in that\ngodly-minded town. No one would have anything to say to a revolutionary\nwho had taken the oaths. His society, therefore, consisted of a\nfew individuals of what were then called liberal or patriotic, or\nconstitutional opinions, on whom he would call for a rubber of whist or\nof boston.\n\nAt the first house where he was introduced by his uncle, Louis met a\nyoung lady,", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "ed themselves\ngradually to this artificial night.\n\n\"Monsieur is your old school-friend,\" she said to Louis.\n\nHe made no reply. At last I could see him, and it was one of those\nspectacles that are stamped on the memory for ever. He was standing, his\nelbows resting on the cornice of the low wainscot, which threw his body\nforward, so that it seemed bowed under the weight of his bent head. His\nhair was as long as a woman's, falling over his shoulders and hanging\nabout his face,", "oiselle de Villenoix, he discerned the angel\nwithin. The richest powers of his soul, and his tendency to ecstatic\nreverie, every faculty within him was at once concentrated in boundless\nlove, the first love of a young man, a passion which is strong indeed in\nall, but which in him was raised to incalculable power by the perennial\nardor of his senses, the character of his ideas, and the manner in which\nhe lived. This passion became a gulf, into which the hapless fellow\nthrew everything; a g", "went, as gay as swallows, marching in a body on the famous\nchateau with an eagerness which would at first allow of no fatigue.\nWhen we reached the hill, whence we looked down on the house standing\nhalf-way down the slope, on the devious valley through which the river\nwinds and sparkles between meadows in graceful curves--a beautiful\nlandscape, one of those scenes to which the keen emotions of early youth\nor of love lend such a charm, that it is wise never to see them again in\nlater years--Louis", "loved, whose accents, so painfully expected,\nhad seemed to be lost for ever. My eyes filled with tears in spite of\nevery effort. An involuntary instinct warned me, making me doubt whether\nLouis had really lost his reason. I was indeed well assured that he\nneither saw nor heard me; but the sweetness of his tone, which seemed\nto reveal heavenly happiness, gave his speech an amazing effect. These\nwords, the incomplete revelation of an unknown world, rang in our souls\nlike some glorious distant bells in the depth of a dark night. I was", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "itations.\n\n\"Inferior minds, to whom this swift mental vision is a thing unknown,\nwho are ignorant of the spirit's inner workings, laugh at the dreamer;\nand if he is subject to this kind of obliviousness, regard him as a\nmadman. Louis is always in this state; he soars perpetually through the\nspaces of thought, traversing them with the swiftness of a swallow; I\ncan follow him in his flight. This is the whole history of his madness.\nSome day, perhaps, Louis will come back to the life in which", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "'s presence affect not to perceive\nthat Louis is mad.\"\n\nHe remained standing on the spot where I left him, watching me till I\nwas out of sight.\n\nI made my way to the chateau of Villenoix, not without deep agitation.\nMy thoughts were many at each step on this road, which Louis had so\noften trodden with a heart full of hopes, a soul spurred on by the\nmyriad darts of love. The shrubs, the trees, the turns of the winding\nroad where little gullies broke the", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "me with inexpressible affection,\n\"_Vir nobilis_!\"\n\nMadame de Stael was, in fact, partly the cause of Lambert's troubles. On\nevery pretext masters and pupils threw the name in his teeth, either in\nirony or in reproof.\n\nLouis lost no time in getting himself \"kept in\" to share my\nimprisonment. Freer thus than in any other circumstances, we could talk\nthe whole day long in the silence of the dormitories, where each boy had\na cubicle six feet square, the partitions consisting", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux" ], [ "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "to a woman's sweet and loving nature. She had\nnot, indeed, the rosy freshness, the fruit-like bloom which blush on a\ngirl's cheek during her careless years. Darker shadows, with here\nand there a redder vein, took the place of color, symptomatic of an\nenergetic temper and nervous irritability, such as many men do not like\nto meet with in a wife, while to others they are an indication of the\nmost sensitive chastity and passion mingled with pride.\n\nAs soon as Louis saw Madem", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "ed themselves\ngradually to this artificial night.\n\n\"Monsieur is your old school-friend,\" she said to Louis.\n\nHe made no reply. At last I could see him, and it was one of those\nspectacles that are stamped on the memory for ever. He was standing, his\nelbows resting on the cornice of the low wainscot, which threw his body\nforward, so that it seemed bowed under the weight of his bent head. His\nhair was as long as a woman's, falling over his shoulders and hanging\nabout his face,", "my\nschoolmate's insanity. I listened to the old man, but I criticised his\nstatements.\n\nThe most serious symptom had supervened a day or two before the\nmarriage. Louis had had some well-marked attacks of catalepsy. He had\nonce remained motionless for fifty-nine hours, his eyes staring, neither\nspeaking nor eating; a purely nervous affection, to which persons\nunder the influence of violent passion are liable; a rare malady,\nbut perfectly well known to the medical faculty. What was really\nextraordinary was", "the stove, amused to see them dry and shrivel; or if the gloves escaped\nthe marauders, after getting wet they shrunk as they dried for want\nof care. No, gloves were impossible. Gloves were a privilege, and boys\ninsist on equality.\n\nLouis Lambert fell a victim to all these varieties of torment. Like\nmany contemplative men, who, when lost in thought, acquire a habit of\nmechanical motion, he had a mania for fidgeting with his shoes, and\ndestroyed them very quickly. His girlish complexion,", "ity is\nno more than the desire to devote themselves which characterizes woman,\nonly transferred to the greatest things.\n\nAs a result of these early impressions, Louis passed immaculate through\nhis school life; this beautiful virginity of the senses naturally\nresulted in the richer fervor of his blood, and in increased faculties\nof mind.\n\nThe Baroness de Stael, forbidden to come within forty leagues of Paris,\nspent several months of her banishment on an estate near Vendome. One\nday, when out walking, she met on", "of suffering. And\n could not I, for you, Pauline, imitate the exquisite reserve of a\n woman? Since yesterday I have doubted my own power. If I could\n displease you once, if I failed once to understand you, I dread\n lest I should often be carried out of our happy circle by my evil\n demon. Supposing I were to have many of those dreadful moods, or\n that my unbounded love could not make up for the dark hours of my\n life--that I were doomed to remain such as I", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "'s presence affect not to perceive\nthat Louis is mad.\"\n\nHe remained standing on the spot where I left him, watching me till I\nwas out of sight.\n\nI made my way to the chateau of Villenoix, not without deep agitation.\nMy thoughts were many at each step on this road, which Louis had so\noften trodden with a heart full of hopes, a soul spurred on by the\nmyriad darts of love. The shrubs, the trees, the turns of the winding\nroad where little gullies broke the", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "carried him\noff to Paris, and placed him under the care of Monsieur Esquirol. All\nthrough our journey Louis sat sunk in almost unbroken torpor, and did\nnot recognize me. The Paris physicians pronounced him incurable, and\nunanimously advised his being left in perfect solitude, with nothing to\nbreak the silence that was needful for his very improbable recovery,\nand that he should live always in a cool room with a subdued\nlight.--Mademoiselle de Villenoix, whom I had been careful not to\napprise of", "Louis must, assuredly, have\nfound much bitterness in his intercourse with men, or have striven hard\nwith Society in terrible irony, without extracting anything from it,\nbefore uttering so strident a cry, and expressing, poor fellow, the\ndesire which satiety of power and of all earthly things has led even\nmonarchs to indulge!\n\nAnd perhaps, too, he went back to solitude to carry out some great work\nthat was floating inchoate in his brain. We would gladly believe it as\nwe read this fragment of his thoughts", "to see\n a perfect life and an exquisite poem in our rapturous love; to\n throw my soul into it, drown my powers, and wring from each hour\n the joys it has to give!\n\n \"Ah, my memories of love are crowding back upon me, the clouds of\n despair will lift. Farewell. I leave you now to be more entirely\n yours. My beloved soul, I look for a line, a word that may restore\n my peace of mind. Let me know whether I really grieved my Pauline,", "that Louis should not have had several previous\nattacks, since his habits of rapt thought and the character of his mind\nwould predispose him to them. But his temperament, physical and mental,\nwas so admirably balanced, that it had no doubt been able to resist the\ndemands on his strength. The excitement to which he had been wound up by\nthe anticipation of acute physical enjoyment, enhanced by a chaste life\nand a highly-strung soul, had no doubt led to these attacks, of which\nthe results are as little known as the cause.\n\n", "loved, whose accents, so painfully expected,\nhad seemed to be lost for ever. My eyes filled with tears in spite of\nevery effort. An involuntary instinct warned me, making me doubt whether\nLouis had really lost his reason. I was indeed well assured that he\nneither saw nor heard me; but the sweetness of his tone, which seemed\nto reveal heavenly happiness, gave his speech an amazing effect. These\nwords, the incomplete revelation of an unknown world, rang in our souls\nlike some glorious distant bells in the depth of a dark night. I was", "wholly extinguished by this first fever of burning passion, he\nmight perhaps have yielded to the most irresistible desire that came\nover him to kill the young man on whom the lady's looks beamed. Was not\nthis a reversion, in the heart of the Paris world, to the savage passion\nthat regards women as its prey, an effect of animal instinct combining\nwith the almost luminous flashes of a soul crushed under the weight\nof thought? In short, was it not the prick of the penknife so vividly\nimagined by the boy", ", reproduces it in his works. Two is the number of\n generation. Three is the number of Life which includes generation\n and offspring. Add the sum of four, and you have seven, the\n formula of Heaven. Above all is God; He is the Unit.\n\n\n\nAfter going in to see Louis once more, I took leave of his wife and\nwent home, lost in ideas so adverse to social life that, in spite of a\npromise to return to Villenoix, I did not go.\n\nThe sight of Louis had had some mysteriously sinister" ], [ ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "from that fine instinct of\ngrief that characterized the aged, I found a number of letters, too\nillegible ever to have been sent to Mademoiselle de Villenoix. My\nfamiliarity with Lambert's writing enabled me in time to decipher the\nhieroglyphics of this shorthand, the result of impatience and a frenzy\nof passion. Carried away by his feelings, he had written without being\nconscious of the irregularity of words too slow to express his thoughts.\nHe must have been compelled to copy these chaotic attempts, for", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in", "the\nlines often ran into each other; but he was also afraid perhaps of not\nhaving sufficiently disguised his feelings, and at first, at any rate,\nhe had probably written his love-letters twice over.\n\nIt required all the fervency of my devotion to his memory, and the sort\nof fanaticism which comes of such a task, to enable me to divine\nand restore the meaning of the five letters that here follow. These\ndocuments, preserved by me with pious care, are the only material\nevidence of his overmastering passion. Mademoiselle", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "to endure this terrible sight--for I\ncould not, like Mademoiselle de Villenoix, read all his secrets--I went\nout, and she came with me to walk for a few minutes and talk of herself\nand of Lambert.\n\n\"Louis must, no doubt, appear to be mad,\" said she. \"But he is not, if\nthe term mad ought only to be used in speaking of those whose brain is\nfor some unknown cause diseased, and who can show no reason in their\nactions. Everything in my husband is perfectly balanced. Though he did\nnot actively", "loved, whose accents, so painfully expected,\nhad seemed to be lost for ever. My eyes filled with tears in spite of\nevery effort. An involuntary instinct warned me, making me doubt whether\nLouis had really lost his reason. I was indeed well assured that he\nneither saw nor heard me; but the sweetness of his tone, which seemed\nto reveal heavenly happiness, gave his speech an amazing effect. These\nwords, the incomplete revelation of an unknown world, rang in our souls\nlike some glorious distant bells in the depth of a dark night. I was", "rought to the spot by the noise of a battle, Father Haugoult roughly\nintervened, inquiring as to the cause of the fight. Our enemies had\ninterrupted us in writing our impositions, and the class-master came to\nprotect his slaves. The foe, in self-defence, betrayed the existence of\nthe manuscript. The dreadful Haugoult insisted on our giving up the box;\nif we should resist, he would have it broken open. Lambert gave him the\nkey; the master took out the papers, glanced through them, and said", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "wreck snatched from the grave, a conquest of life\nfrom death--or of death from life!\n\nI stayed for about an hour, sunk in unaccountable dreams, and lost in\npainful thought. I listened to Mademoiselle de Villenoix, who told me\nevery detail of this life--that of a child in arms.\n\nSuddenly Louis ceased rubbing his legs together, and said slowly:\n\n\"The angels are white.\"\n\nI cannot express the effect produced upon me by this utterance, by the\nsound of the voice I had", "she placed in the hands of Monsieur de Corbigny,\nwho died, I believe, in 1812, was not a sufficiently large sum to leave\nlasting memories in Madame de Stael, whose excitable nature found ample\npasture during the vicissitudes of 1814 and 1815, which absorbed all her\ninterest.\n\nAt this time Louis Lambert was at once too proud and too poor to go in\nsearch of a patroness who was traveling all over Europe. However, he\nwent on foot from Blois to Paris", "have found happiness. The circumstances of the time, and\nLouis Lambert's character, may to a great extent absolve Madame de Stael\nfor her thoughtlessness and her generosity. The gentleman who was to\nhave kept up communications between her and the boy left Blois just at\nthe time when Louis passed out of the college. The political events that\nensued were then a sufficient excuse for this gentleman's neglect of\nthe Baroness' protege. The authoress of _Corinne_ heard no more of her\nlittle Moses.\n\nA hundred louis, which", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "ed themselves\ngradually to this artificial night.\n\n\"Monsieur is your old school-friend,\" she said to Louis.\n\nHe made no reply. At last I could see him, and it was one of those\nspectacles that are stamped on the memory for ever. He was standing, his\nelbows resting on the cornice of the low wainscot, which threw his body\nforward, so that it seemed bowed under the weight of his bent head. His\nhair was as long as a woman's, falling over his shoulders and hanging\nabout his face,", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "Then, after speaking a few words in an undertone to the class-master, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Where can he sit?\"\n\nIt would have been unfair to displace one of us for a newcomer; so as\nthere was but one desk vacant, Louis Lambert came to fill it, next to\nme, for I had last joined the class. Though we still had some time to\nwait before lessons were over, we all stood up to look at Louis Lambert.\nMonsieur Mareschal heard our mutterings, saw how eager we were, and\n" ], [ "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "\n\n\nWhen Louis returned to Blois, his uncle was eager to procure him some\namusement; but the poor priest was regarded as a perfect leper in that\ngodly-minded town. No one would have anything to say to a revolutionary\nwho had taken the oaths. His society, therefore, consisted of a\nfew individuals of what were then called liberal or patriotic, or\nconstitutional opinions, on whom he would call for a rubber of whist or\nof boston.\n\nAt the first house where he was introduced by his uncle, Louis met a\nyoung lady,", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "went, as gay as swallows, marching in a body on the famous\nchateau with an eagerness which would at first allow of no fatigue.\nWhen we reached the hill, whence we looked down on the house standing\nhalf-way down the slope, on the devious valley through which the river\nwinds and sparkles between meadows in graceful curves--a beautiful\nlandscape, one of those scenes to which the keen emotions of early youth\nor of love lend such a charm, that it is wise never to see them again in\nlater years--Louis", "ce; rich families\nsecured them long beforehand to have them ready when the lots were\ndrawn. The poor tanner's modest fortune did not allow of their\npurchasing a substitute for their son, and they saw no means allowed by\nlaw for evading the conscription but that of making him a priest; so,\nin 1807, they sent him to his maternal uncle, the parish priest of Mer,\nanother small town on the Loire, not far from Blois. This arrangement at\nonce satisfied Louis' passion for knowledge, and his parents' wish not", "which the loss would leave them with a stain on their good\nname, the only thing they had in the world. Hence their anxiety was very\ngreat when the question first arose as to whether they should yield to\nthe plaintiff's unjust demands, or should defend themselves against him.\nThe matter came under discussion one autumn evening, before a turf fire\nin the room used by the tanner and his wife. Two or three relations\nwere invited to this family council, and among others Louis' maternal\ngreat-grandfather, an old laborer, much bent, but with a", ", and I went into the hall of the house without\nmeeting a soul. There the sound of my steps brought out an old woman,\nto whom I gave a letter written to Mademoiselle de Villenoix by Monsieur\nLefebvre. In a few minutes this woman returned to bid me enter, and\nled me to a low room, floored with black-and-white marble; the Venetian\nshutters were closed, and at the end of the room I dimly saw Louis\nLambert.\n\n\"Be seated, monsieur,\" said a gentle voice", "carried him\noff to Paris, and placed him under the care of Monsieur Esquirol. All\nthrough our journey Louis sat sunk in almost unbroken torpor, and did\nnot recognize me. The Paris physicians pronounced him incurable, and\nunanimously advised his being left in perfect solitude, with nothing to\nbreak the silence that was needful for his very improbable recovery,\nand that he should live always in a cool room with a subdued\nlight.--Mademoiselle de Villenoix, whom I had been careful not to\napprise of", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "to settle at Blois. There Louis lived for some time;\nbut consumed ere long by the desire to finish his incomplete studies,\nhe came to Paris to see Madame de Stael, and to drink of science at its\nhighest fount. The old priest, being very fond of his nephew, left Louis\nfree to spend his whole little inheritance in his three years' stay in\nParis, though he lived very poorly. This fortune consisted of but a few\nthousand francs.\n\nLambert returned to Blois at the beginning of 1820,", "\nto expose him to the dreadful chances of war; and, indeed, his taste for\nstudy and precocious intelligence gave grounds for hoping that he might\nrise to high fortunes in the Church.\n\nAfter remaining for about three years with his uncle, an old and not\nuncultured Oratorian, Louis left him early in 1811 to enter the college\nat Vendome, where he was maintained at the cost of Madame de Stael.\n\nLambert owed the favor and patronage of this celebrated lady to chance,\nor shall we not say to", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "'s presence affect not to perceive\nthat Louis is mad.\"\n\nHe remained standing on the spot where I left him, watching me till I\nwas out of sight.\n\nI made my way to the chateau of Villenoix, not without deep agitation.\nMy thoughts were many at each step on this road, which Louis had so\noften trodden with a heart full of hopes, a soul spurred on by the\nmyriad darts of love. The shrubs, the trees, the turns of the winding\nroad where little gullies broke the", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "It began when Lambert and I\nwere parted, for he did not leave college till he was eighteen, in the\nsummer of 1815. He had at that time lost his father and mother about six\nmonths before. Finding no member of his family with whom his soul could\nsympathize, expansive still, but, since our parting, thrown back on\nhimself, he made his home with his uncle, who was also his guardian, and\nwho, having been turned out of his benefice as a priest who had taken\nthe oaths, had come", "!\"\n\n\n\nIn 1823 I traveled from Paris to Touraine by _diligence_. At Mer we took\nup a passenger for Blois. As the guard put him into that part of the\ncoach where I had my seat, he said jestingly:\n\n\"You will not be crowded, Monsieur Lefebvre!\"--I was, in fact, alone.\n\nOn hearing this name, and seeing a white-haired old man, who looked\neighty at least, I naturally thought of Lambert's uncle. After a few\ningenious questions" ], [ ", where they have been living for two\nyears.\"\n\nSo, instead of continuing my journey, I stopped at Blois to go to see\nLouis. Good Monsieur Lefebvre would not hear of my lodging anywhere but\nat his house, where he showed me his nephew's room with the books and\nall else that had belonged to him. At every turn the old man could not\nsuppress some mournful exclamation, showing what hopes Louis' precocious\ngenius had raised, and the terrible grief into which this irreparable\nruin had plung", "life of that mighty brain, which split up on every side perhaps,\nlike a too vast empire, would have been set forth in the narrative of\nthis man's visions--a being incomplete for lack of force or of weakness;\nbut I preferred to give an account of my own impressions rather than to\ncompose a more or less poetical romance.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert died at the age of twenty-eight, September 25, 1824, in\nhis true love's arms. He was buried by her desire in an island in the\npark", "back to the delightful days of our\nboyish affection. So it was time alone that initiated me into the\nmeaning of the events and facts that were crowded into that obscure\nlife, as into that of many another man who is lost to science. Indeed,\nthis narrative, so far as the expression and appreciation of many\nthings is concerned, will be found full of what may be termed moral\nanachronisms, which perhaps will not detract from its peculiar interest.\n\nIn the course of the first few months after coming to Vendome, Louis\nbecame the victim of a", "giving him a resemblance to the busts of the great men\nof the time of Louis XIV. His face was perfectly white. He constantly\nrubbed one leg against the other, with a mechanical action that nothing\ncould have checked, and the incessant friction of the bones made a\ndoleful sound. Near him was a bed of moss on boards.\n\n\"He very rarely lies down,\" said Mademoiselle de Villenoix; \"but\nwhenever he does, he sleeps for several days.\"\n\nLouis stood, as I beheld him, day and night", "we ceased to study Louis; he\nentirely belied Madame de Stael's prognostications, and displayed none\nof the prodigies we looked for in him.\n\nAfter three months at school, Louis was looked upon as a quite ordinary\nscholar. I alone was allowed really to know that sublime--why should\nI not say divine?--soul, for what is nearer to God than genius in the\nheart of a child? The similarity of our tastes and ideas made us friends\nand chums; our intimacy was so brotherly that our school", "Louis' state,\" he went on, blinking his eyes, \"but who was\nsupposed to have broken off the match, went to Paris and heard what the\ndoctors had pronounced. She immediately begged to see my nephew, who\nhardly recognized her; then, like the noble soul she is, she insisted on\ndevoting herself to giving him such care as might tend to his recovery.\nShe would have been obliged to do so if he had been her husband, she\nsaid, and could she do less for him as her lover?\n\n\"She removed Louis to Villenoix", "town in the Vendomois,\nwhere his father owned a tannery of no great magnitude, and intended\nthat his son should succeed him; but his precocious bent for study\nmodified the paternal decision. For, indeed, the tanner and his wife\nadored Louis, their only child, and never contradicted him in anything.\n\nAt the age of five Louis had begun by reading the Old and New\nTestaments; and these two Books, including so many books, had sealed his\nfate. Could that childish imagination understand the mystical depths of\nthe Scriptures", "the\ncollege. At the same time, Lambert's piercing eye, the scorn expressed\nin his face for our childishness, so far removed from the stamp of his\nown nature, the easy attitude he assumed, and his evident strength in\nproportion to his years, infused a certain respect into the veriest\nscamps among us. For my part, I kept near him, absorbed in studying him\nin silence.\n\n\n\nLouis Lambert was slightly built, nearly five feet in height; his face\nwas tanned, and his hands were burnt brown by", "ed themselves\ngradually to this artificial night.\n\n\"Monsieur is your old school-friend,\" she said to Louis.\n\nHe made no reply. At last I could see him, and it was one of those\nspectacles that are stamped on the memory for ever. He was standing, his\nelbows resting on the cornice of the low wainscot, which threw his body\nforward, so that it seemed bowed under the weight of his bent head. His\nhair was as long as a woman's, falling over his shoulders and hanging\nabout his face,", "ustoms himself to the phenomena of life, steels himself\nto every moral or physical perception--an involuntary education which\nsubsequently brings forth fruit both in the understanding and character\nof a man; no, Louis mastered the facts, and he accounted for them after\nseeking out both the principle and the end with the mother wit of a\nsavage. Indeed, from the age of fourteen, by one of those startling\nfreaks in which nature sometimes indulges, and which proved how\nanomalous was his temperament, he would utter quite simply ideas of\nwhich", ", reproduces it in his works. Two is the number of\n generation. Three is the number of Life which includes generation\n and offspring. Add the sum of four, and you have seven, the\n formula of Heaven. Above all is God; He is the Unit.\n\n\n\nAfter going in to see Louis once more, I took leave of his wife and\nwent home, lost in ideas so adverse to social life that, in spite of a\npromise to return to Villenoix, I did not go.\n\nThe sight of Louis had had some mysteriously sinister", "the force of Ideas or the Will of man?\" he would say. \"From this effect,\nproduced by the Will of all, each man may draw conclusions in favor of\nhis own.\"\n\nI need say nothing of his views on poetry or history, nor of his\njudgment on the masterpieces of our language. There would be little\ninterest in the record of opinions now almost universally held, though\nat that time, from the lips of a boy, they might seem remarkable. Louis\nwas capable of the highest flights. To give a notion of his talents in\na few words,", "wreck snatched from the grave, a conquest of life\nfrom death--or of death from life!\n\nI stayed for about an hour, sunk in unaccountable dreams, and lost in\npainful thought. I listened to Mademoiselle de Villenoix, who told me\nevery detail of this life--that of a child in arms.\n\nSuddenly Louis ceased rubbing his legs together, and said slowly:\n\n\"The angels are white.\"\n\nI cannot express the effect produced upon me by this utterance, by the\nsound of the voice I had", "become of me?\" said I. \"Is not my position a dreadful\none? _I_ have nothing here to uphold me!\" and I slapped my forehead.\n\nHe shook his head with a gentle gesture, gracious and sad, and we\nparted.\n\nAt that time Louis Lambert was about five feet five inches in height;\nhe grew no more. His countenance, which was full of expression, revealed\nhis sweet nature. Divine patience, developed by harsh usage, and the\nconstant concentration needed for his meditative life, had bereft his\neyes of the", "My friends,\" said he, \"the Holy Father is just dead.\" Two days later a\nletter confirmed the news. The hour of the Pope's death coincided with\nthat when the Bishop had been restored to his natural state.\n\nNor had Lambert omitted the yet more recent adventure of an English girl\nwho was passionately attached to a sailor, and set out from London to\nseek him. She found him, without a guide, making her way alone in the\nNorth American wilderness, reaching him just in time to save his life.\n\nLouis had found confirmatory evidence in", "driven from Paris by\nthe sufferings to which the impecunious are exposed there. He must often\nhave been a victim to the secret storms, the terrible rage of mind\nby which artists are tossed to judge from the only fact his uncle\nrecollected, and the only letter he preserved of all those which Louis\nLambert wrote to him at that time, perhaps because it was the last and\nthe longest.\n\nTo begin with the story. Louis one evening was at the Theatre-Francais,\nseated on a bench in the upper gallery, near to one of the pillars", "to life in our brain the beings which they\nserve to clothe. Like all beings, there is but one place where their\nproperties are at full liberty to act and develop. But the subject\ndemands a science to itself perhaps!\"\n\nAnd he would shrug his shoulders as much as to say, \"But we are too high\nand too low!\"\n\nLouis' passion for reading had on the whole been very well satisfied.\nThe cure of Mer had two or three thousand volumes. This treasure had\nbeen derived from the plunder committed during the Revolution in the\nneighboring chateaux", "which the loss would leave them with a stain on their good\nname, the only thing they had in the world. Hence their anxiety was very\ngreat when the question first arose as to whether they should yield to\nthe plaintiff's unjust demands, or should defend themselves against him.\nThe matter came under discussion one autumn evening, before a turf fire\nin the room used by the tanner and his wife. Two or three relations\nwere invited to this family council, and among others Louis' maternal\ngreat-grandfather, an old laborer, much bent, but with a", "itations.\n\n\"Inferior minds, to whom this swift mental vision is a thing unknown,\nwho are ignorant of the spirit's inner workings, laugh at the dreamer;\nand if he is subject to this kind of obliviousness, regard him as a\nmadman. Louis is always in this state; he soars perpetually through the\nspaces of thought, traversing them with the swiftness of a swallow; I\ncan follow him in his flight. This is the whole history of his madness.\nSome day, perhaps, Louis will come back to the life in which", "spend the time allowed him by his uncle\nfor holidays at his father's house; but instead of indulging, after the\nmanner of schoolboys, in the sweets of the delightful _far niente_ that\ntempts us at every age, he set out every morning with part of a loaf\nand his books, and went to read and meditate in the woods, to escape\nhis mother's remonstrances, for she believed such persistent study to be\ninjurious. How admirable is a mother's instinct! From that time reading\nwas in Louis a sort" ] ]

[ "How many siblings does Louis Lambert have?", "What person pays for Louis' college education?", "What is the \"poet's\" real name?", "Why did Balzac and Louis seem to get along so well? ", "How old was Lambert when he graduated college?", "How many years did Louis live in Paris after he graduated?", "What does Louis attempt to do after having a mental breakdown?", "How old is Lambert when he passes away?", "Who paid for Louis Lambert to enroll in College de Vendome?", "Why did Madame de Stael pay for Louis Lambert to go to college?", "What did a teacher do with Lambert's Traite de la Volonte essay?", "What did Lambert try to do to himself a day before his wedding with Pauline?", "Why was Lambert ordered into solitude and rest?", "What were the letter's received by Lambert's uncle toward the end of the story about?", "What did Lambert say about the angels while he was in the chateau?", "Where did Lambert meet his friend Balzac, also known as \"The Poet\"?", "Where did Lambert live for three years immediately following his graduation?", "How did the other students treat Lambert and his friend Balzac during college?", "What does Madame de Stael pay for Louis Lambert to do?", "What country is Madame de Stael originally from?", "What is the title of the comprehensive essay Louis completes in college?", "To what city does Louis move to after leaving college?", "With whom does Louis fall in love with?", "What does Louis attempt to mutilate a day before marrying Pauline?", "Who gives the narrator Louis' letters?", "Where is Louis' uncle's home located?", "How old is Louis when he dies?" ]

[ [ "none", "0" ], [ "Madame de Stael", "Madame de Stael." ], [ "Balzac", "Balzac." ], [ "Because they both were berated by classmates and they had the same interests in topics", "they talked about philosophy and mysticism" ], [ "18 years old", "1815" ], [ "3 years", "Three." ], [ "He tries to castrate himself", "castrate himself." ], [ "28 years old", "Twenty-eight." ], [ "Madame de Stael", "Madame de Stael" ], [ "She was impressed by his intellect.", "She admired Lambert's intellect." ], [ "She confiscated it and called it rubbish.", "We don't know for sure, but the narrator thinks he sold it to the local grocer." ], [ "He tried to castrate himself.", "Castrate himself. " ], [ "He was declared incurable by doctors.", "Beacuse of his mental breakdown. " ], [ "They were about Louis Lambert's philosophical musings and his love for Pauline.", "They were about Lamber's philosophical musings and love for Pauline." ], [ "He said the angels were white.", "They are white" ], [ "They met in college.", "College de vendome" ], [ "He lived in Paris for three years.", "Paris." ], [ "The other kids shunned Lambert and Balzac in college.", "By ignoring them" ], [ "Enroll in College", "To go to the College de Vendome. " ], [ "Switzerland", "Switzerland" ], [ "Traite de la Volonte", "Treatise on the Will" ], [ "Paris", "Paris" ], [ "Pauline de Villnoix", "Pauline de Villenoix" ], [ "His genitals", "Himself." ], [ "Louis' uncle", "Louis' uncle." ], [ "In Blois", "Blois. " ], [ "Twenty eight", "28" ] ]

[ [ "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "the stage erupts with fireworks.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Nick sleeps with a grin on his face. He rouses at the touch\n of Sheeni's lips on his cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n My parents are at services. They\n won't be back for hours.\n\n NICK\n Shall we have breakfast, my love?\n\n SHEEN", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick makes his way past the arbor, crestfallen. Sheeni\n emerges from the shadows in a hooded sweatshirt over a\n lavender dress.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick! Oh, Nick!\n Nick lights up at the sight of her and they embrace. They\n kiss passionately. He works his way to her neck and starts to\n reach under the sweatshirt.\n\n SHEENI\n I had to sneak away just to see", "carrying her bags.\n Nick regards Sheeni and her mischievous smirk.\n\n \n\n 16.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Thanks a pantsful.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n A dusty road. Nick totes a watermelon and a paper bag. He\n watches as Sheeni works on a Popsicle. Full lips that cry out\n to be kissed.\n\n NICK\n You don'", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", "together the better. I fear when\n you leave we might never see each\n other again.\n Nick nods glumly. Clearly a devastating thought.\n\n INT. LINCOLN (MOVING) - DAY\n\n Sheeni's in back with Nick, but doesn't seem to mind the wind\n tunnel. She has a scarf tied around her chestnut locks.\n Nick looks down as she casually rests a hand on the inside of\n his thigh.\n As they round a curve at 60, she y", " NICK\n Oh.\n Paul begins rolling a joint.\n\n PAUL\n Nice fire in Berkeley.\n\n \n\n 64.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Did Sheeni tell you that was me?\n\n PAUL\n She didn't have to.\n\n NICK\n Why? Was I an arsonist in a\n previous life?\n\n PAUL\n No. But Sheeni was.\n\n NICK", "anks Nick's sunglasses off\n and tosses them over her shoulder into the lake.\n\n EXT. GEEZER'S MANOR - DAY\n\n Estelle, Jerry, Nick, and a toothless old GEEZER whose gut\n rivals Jerry's, all stare at a rusty RV that looks like it\n might not make the trip back.\n In the background, Sheeni pets a goat in the dusty yard.\n\n \n\n 29.\n\n \n\n J", "his hands all\n along.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François is right of course, but on\n the other hand, why be cruel? After\n all, Sheeni had managed to give me\n hope every step of the way. And if\n hope is what Sheeni would now need\n to go on, well then...\n\n NICK\n As always, you are right, my love.\n Sheeni beams. François smacks his forehead with hand.\n\n FRANÇO", " SHEENI\n Don't complain. At least you got to\n shower with a naked woman.\n (licking donut powder off\n her fingers)\n What are your plans today?\n\n NICK\n My parents want to go to\n Middletown. Jerry has the moronic\n notion of buying a trailer there\n before we leave.\n\n SHEENI\n I should like to come with you,\n Nick. The more time we spend\n ", "cut our vacation short and\n return to Oakland.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick rolls over on the cot and looks up with the gaze of a\n manic insomniac.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 6 AM. Violent panic! I have to see\n Sheeni again!\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n The door opens to reveal Nick standing outside in shorts, an\n I'M SINGLE, LET" ], [ " There, there, Ma'am. It's going to\n be okay.\n Nick watches his mother sobbing against the cop's chest for a\n beat before he rolls up the window and he and Joanie resume\n watching the movie.\n Estelle's cries of despair become...\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n ....the cries of ecstasy coming through the wall along with\n the repeated exclamation of Lance's name.\n Nick rolls over in bed. Bloodshot eyes. He haul", "\n And with that she excuses herself, leaving Nick to ponder.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Mom is a realist about everything.\n Except her age. She's forty-three.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - LATER\n\n Nick washes dishes in the toilet-like sink. The trailer\n shakes from the two adults flogging the mattress in the back.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n An old cr", "his head.\n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - NIGHT\n\n We find Nick waiting in the drive with a pile of suitcases\n beside him.\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n Psst. Nick.\n Nick finds Lefty lurking in the shrubs that divide his\n mother's lawn from the neighbor's. He limps to his friend.\n\n NICK\n I was wondering what happened to\n you. Did you get to blow your wad?\n\n", "!\n She catches up to Nick at the top of the stairs and cracks\n him upside the head.\n\n \n\n 48.\n\n \n He loses his balance and goes tumbling down the staircase,\n letting out a moan that stutters as his head hits each step.\n He comes crashing into the foyer, landing on the slate.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - EVENING\n\n Nick watches out the window.\n Estelle can be seen animatedly describing", "Estelle appears toting Nick's\n lunch. She lets out a scream. The boys turn to face her,\n pants around their ankles.\n\n ESTELLE\n\n PERVERTS!\n She hurls the tray of food at them. Lefty bolts. Nick hastily\n tries to pull up his pants as his mother chases him around\n the room, grabbing up objects and hurling them his way.\n\n ESTELLE\n\n FRIGGIN' GODDAMN PERVERTS!\n", "pulls out the cord.\n He joins Paul in working Lacey's feet.\n\n NICK\n Dad is afraid.\n\n LACEY\n He is on the wrong path. I have\n felt that for some time.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick watches the headlights from the arriving BMW travel\n across the walls.\n They go out. He listens to the front door being keyed\n followed by his father bellowing.\n Nick gets up and wand", "the events to\n LEFTY'S PARENTS. Lefty glances up at Nick and gives a pained\n expression.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - LATER\n\n Nick lays on his belly reading No Exit. He looks up when he\n hears the sound of footsteps in the hall. Shadows appear\n beneath the crack in the door.\n Estelle opens the door and looks down at him.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, I just want you to know that\n I'", ". Estelle knocks and enters. Nick pulls the\n headphones down around his neck.\n\n ESTELLE\n Lance and I are walking down to the\n movie theater. There's TV dinners\n in the freezer. Oh, and Nick - your\n father got a job in Ukiah.\n\n NICK\n Mom? Do you think it might be a\n good idea if I moved in with him?\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, that just wouldn't work.", " 6.\n\n \n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Nick stands in the doorway watching as his mother waits for\n Jerry to open the passenger door for her.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n After spending twelve years with\n Dad, Mom has had a string of\n lovers, none of whom she has asked\n me to approve.\n Jerry fails to notice Estelle waiting and instead just climbs\n in and chugs his beer. Estelle appears mildly", ")\n Mom? It's Nick. I'm sorry to wake\n you, but I'm hoping you'll help\n your only son. Especially seeing as\n it would really piss off Dad.\n A long beat.\n\n \n\n 84.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE (V.O.)\n Where are you, Nick?\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY 101 - RAINING - NIGHT\n\n The three boys are still standing in the rain", "at Nick through the\n window and show him some of her cleavage.\n\n LACEY\n Hiya, Nick!\n\n NICK\n Hi, Lacey. Hi, Dad.\n The trunk pops open.\n\n \n\n 59.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Is there any way I could sit up\n front with Lacey, Dad? Mom's\n boyfriend beat me pretty badly.\n\n GEORGE\n Sorry,", "Well, uhm... It was nice meeting\n you, Nick.\n\n NICK\n You too, Mr. Rumpkin.\n Wally blushes even more. He closes the door and starts to\n turn the truck around. Nick watches him go. Wally waves\n goodbye.\n Nick turns and the three boys make their way down the dusty\n road.\n\n INT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n Lacey works up a sweat to Billy Blank.", " You are confined to your room until\n school starts, you sick pervert.\n She stalks off. Joanie glances over at Nick with amusement.\n\n NICK\n I wish I was leaving with you\n tonight.\n\n JOANIE\n Your day will come. I never thought\n mine would, but it did. Was all\n that stuff about Lacey and Dad made\n up?\n\n NICK\n I wish. Did you really take a\n post", "to do? Shoot me\n with your gun?\n Lance lunges across the table.\n\n ESTELLE\n No, Lance! Nickie, go to your room.\n Nick flings down his napkin and heads for the front door.\n\n \n\n 44.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE\n Where do you think you're going?\n\n NICK\n Out!\n The screen door slams behind him.\n\n INT. GARAGE", "\n\n NICK\n What about Dwayne?\n\n GEORGE\n He's bunking with you.\n\n NICK\n Dad!\n\n GEORGE\n You working on strike two?\n Nick leans back and glares in silent protest as everyone\n takes their seats at the table.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick tries to shut out the sound of Dwayne getting into the\n creaky bed behind him.\n\n ", "disappointed\n before opening the door herself.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I'm starting to think her\n boyfriends are like U.S.\n Presidents.\n As Jerry pulls out, he tosses his beer bottle in the\n direction of the trash can at the end of the drive.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Just when you think they can't get\n any worse...\n He misses and the bottle shatters on the pavement, but Jerry\n drives off", " \n\n NICK\n You can use my house if you want.\n\n LEFTY\n Really?\n\n NICK\n Sure. My Mom and Lance are going to\n a movie and I'm planning on\n stealing Jerry's trailer and\n torching it in a parking lot, so\n you'll have the whole house to\n yourself.\n\n LEFTY\n Right on.\n Albert finishes his business and they resume walking.\n\n", " Nick places two full cannisters of gasoline into the trunk of\n the Lincoln.\n Nick's behind the wheel, backing up the car.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Tow Jerry's trailer to a remote\n parking lot in Berkeley and burn it\n to the ground.\n The hitch ball grinds under the trailer socket.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Thus evicting myself from my\n mother's clutches and into the arms\n of My One", "ushing with shyness or red with agitation at being\n sent on a midnight mission.\n\n WALLY\n So, uhm, uh... Your mom says you\n need a ride. Did I mention I'm a\n friend?\n Nick breaks into a smile. Finally the Gods have cut him a\n break.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S KITCHEN - NIGHT\n\n Wally and Estelle watch the three semi-clothed boys shovel in\n fried liver with no complaint", "O.)\n Mrs. Crampton complained to Dad\n that I tried to corrupt the fat\n pervert cohabitating with me.\n\n EXT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n Nick totes boxes of belongings from the house to the\n Crampton's dilapidated camper.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n He has deemed it strike three, but\n is only banishing me as far as Mrs.\n Crampton" ], [ "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "'s\n ogre of a father who answers the door and stares at Nick\n sternly.\n\n NICK\n Uhm, hello. Is Sheeni available?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n She most certainly is not. As a\n matter of fact, we've banned you\n from her life, Nick Twisp.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Excuse me?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n ", "?\n\n SHEENI\n I told you, darling. Trent harbors\n you no ill will. I will have him\n call your father up pretending to\n be a head hunter.\n\n NICK\n Very well, but I don't see how I am\n to live with him. My mother values\n my indentured servitude.\n\n SHEENI\n You must influence her to send you\n away. I feel this will require\n being", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", " SHEENI\n Of course, he was disconsolate, but\n we talked all day and he's come to\n see this as an opportunity for\n growth. Oh, and Nick, Trent wanted\n me to tell you that he bears you no\n ill will.\n\n NICK\n Nor I him. I wish him all the best.\n\n SHEENI\n His parents are sending him to a\n French speaking boarding school\n this year. He's sure", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "I (O.S.)\n Oh, Father, do shut up.\n Sheeni descends the stairs. Jean cut-offs over a knockout\n yellow swimsuit that shows off her flowing nubility.\n Mr. Saunders grumbles. Sheeni grabs up a straw beach bag and\n pushes Nick out the door.\n\n SHEENI\n Let's go, Nick. Bye, Father.\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n Vaya con Dios!\n\n EXT. BEACH -", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", ", it was enough to get him\n to give Trent a black eye.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I just don't get it. This\n guy has cock-blocked at every turn\n and you're taking his side?!?\n\n SHEENI\n Cock-blocked?\n\n (SIGHS)\n We'll have to resume this another\n time, Nick. It's been an\n emotionally exhausting weekend. My\n parents are in an uproar over Paul.\n He's", "the stage erupts with fireworks.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Nick sleeps with a grin on his face. He rouses at the touch\n of Sheeni's lips on his cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n My parents are at services. They\n won't be back for hours.\n\n NICK\n Shall we have breakfast, my love?\n\n SHEEN", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "Trent Preston informed us that not\n only were you moving here to pursue\n my daughter, but that you're not\n even mentally-handicapped, and thus\n molested my wife in the shower of\n sound mind and body.\n\n NICK\n That rat-fink-fuck!\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You watch your language. This is a\n Christian home. We're sending\n Sheeni to Les École des Arts and\n Literatures in Santa", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "ve thought about it, and I've\n accepted that you are gay.\n\n NICK\n Thanks a pantsful, but I'm not gay.\n If you're really concerned though,\n I suggest you get me a room at the\n Ukiah Motel 6. If anyone can\n straighten me out, it's Sheeni.\n She looks at him dubiously and hands out the phone.\n\n ESTELLE\n That sounds more like a job for\n your father.", "cut our vacation short and\n return to Oakland.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick rolls over on the cot and looks up with the gaze of a\n manic insomniac.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 6 AM. Violent panic! I have to see\n Sheeni again!\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n The door opens to reveal Nick standing outside in shorts, an\n I'M SINGLE, LET", " SHEENI\n You can read it if you'd like.\n\n \n\n 25.\n\n \n She hands it over. Nick squints at the writing.\n\n NICK\n It's in French.\n\n SHEENI\n A necessity for a child in a\n household with prying Christian\n parents.\n\n NICK\n What does it say?\n\n SHEENI\n Wouldn't you like to", "We can\n visit each other when I get a\n drivers license.\n\n SHEENI\n I hope that's true, but.. It's not\n that. It's...\n\n NICK\n What?\n\n SHEENI\n It's my parents. They're... I fear\n they will never allow me to keep\n Albert.\n\n NICK\n Oh.\n Nick tries to hide his hurt. Picks up the paper with\n ", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE" ], [ ".)\n What about Vijay Joshi?\n Nick stands stiff as a board. The officer peers around him at\n Dwayne sitting inside.\n\n DWAYNE\n I'm pretty sure he's Injun.\n The officer makes a note.\n\n POLICE OFFICER\n (to himself)\n Vijay Joshi. We'll look into it.\n Thank you, boys.\n Nick gives a weak smile and closes the door.\n\n NICK (V.", "\n heard she was interested in some\n brilliant fellow in the Bay Area.\n\n LEFTY\n Hey, that's you, Nick.\n\n VIJAY\n I'm surprised. You are not at all\n what I imagined.\n Nick narrows his eyes.\n\n VIJAY\n So how is Sheeni?\n\n NICK\n I don't know. She sent me this\n letter. But it's in French.\n\n VIJAY\n", " Shall I translate it for you?\n\n NICK\n You speak French?\n\n VIJAY\n I speak French, English, Hindi,\n Marathi, and Urdu.\n\n LEFTY\n That must come in handy.\n Nick hands over the letter and Vijay starts reading it\n silently. He chuckles as he reads and Nick squints his eyes\n at him in annoyance.\n Vijay picks up on it, clears his throat and reads aloud.\n", "you too.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n As François would remind me, I'm\n intelligent, healthy, virile, not\n violently ugly... On the whole I am\n splendidly equipped for this great\n adventure we call the human\n existence.\n The FBI agents shove Nick into the back of their black\n Saturn.\n\n INT. SATURN(MOVING) - DAY\n\n Nick watches out the back window as the car pulls away. A\n view of", "\n VIJAY\n No, apparently they convinced the\n matron it was all quite innocent.\n\n NICK\n Are you kidding? She had her\n flashlight trained on your Hindi\n boner!\n A beat. Lefty and Vijay seem taken aback by the outburst.\n\n VIJAY\n No need to be jealous, Nick.\n Nick stands and collects his lunch tray.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n If I'm to", " BIKINI-CLAD GIRLS gasp in horror.\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I guess we shall see.\n\n INT. CAFETERIA - DAY\n\n\n VIJAY\n\n (READING)\n All in all, I'm happy and look\n forward to further growth in this\n rich, intellectual environment.\n Vijay sets down the letter. Nick waits a beat, staring in\n disbelief.\n\n NICK", "Finally,\n we reach the center of their attention...\n Sheeni, Taggarty, and Heather standing together in their\n coats.\n\n SHEENI\n Nickie?\n Nick, Vijay, and Lefty are noticeably shorter than the older\n boys around them.\n\n NICK\n Hello, Sheeni.\n (to Taggarty and Heather)\n Hi, I'm Nick.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Oh. So you're Nick", "\n That's it? Nothing else about me?\n Vijay picks up the letter again.\n\n VIJAY\n Oh yes... Love to you and Albert.\n (setting down the letter)\n Who's Albert?\n\n NICK\n Albert is our dog. This is a\n disaster. What the hell does she\n mean Trent wants to mend the\n relationship?\n\n VIJAY\n I don't know, but this Taggarty\n ", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "his hands all\n along.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François is right of course, but on\n the other hand, why be cruel? After\n all, Sheeni had managed to give me\n hope every step of the way. And if\n hope is what Sheeni would now need\n to go on, well then...\n\n NICK\n As always, you are right, my love.\n Sheeni beams. François smacks his forehead with hand.\n\n FRANÇO", "the right... a\n little... RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!\n\n RIGHTTHERERIGHTTHERERIGHTTHERE!\n\n EXT. CEMETERY - DAY\n\n ...where we find Vijay glancing over at Taggarty as she\n smokes a cigarette.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Vijay would eventually manage to\n pin the car theft on me. But had\n lost the attention of Taggarty\n forever. Who by the way...", "\n NICK (V.O.)\n I do not have a friend within a\n hundred miles. This is a daunting\n thought if you think about it.\n WE TRACK down the row of other students, starting with a\n THREE HUNDRED POUND BEHEMOTH. The row seems to descend in\n weight class, until we reach Nick at the very end.\n\n CUT TO:\n Nick does his best to not be pinned by DWAYNE CRAMPTON, who\n out-we", "two bags of\n groceries under his arms.\n\n NICK\n Lefty, have you seen Vijay, today?\n\n LEFTY\n Nick, haven't you heard? Vijay's\n been arrested.\n\n NICK\n Arrested?!?\n\n LEFTY\n For grand theft auto. They found\n his prints in your father's car.\n\n NICK\n That's terrible. Did he go quietly?\n\n ", ".\n\n HEATHER\n We've heard so much about you.\n\n NICK\n And this is Vijay. And this is\n Lefty. Lefty goes to USC.\n\n \n\n 74.\n\n \n\n LEFTY\n And I'm not gay.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick, I knew you'd come!\n Sheeni glances over at the disapproving MATRON. She leans in\n ", "a trip to Santa Cruz.\n Vijay, you'll have to be our\n translator.\n\n VIJAY\n But what will we tell our parents?\n\n LEFTY\n You can tell your father you are\n staying at Nick's house for the\n weekend. And visa versa.\n\n NICK\n Good thinking.\n\n VIJAY\n But what if we are caught?\n\n NICK\n To hell with it, Vijay", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "ajamas. That's nasty.\n\n INT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n Nick dials on the phone. Behind him, Dwayne eats breakfast,\n cheerfully kicking his feet back and forth under the chair.\n\n TAGGARTY (V.O.)\n Bonjour.\n\n NICK\n Taggarty? It's Nick.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - DAY\n\n Taggart", " 72.\n\n \n\n LEFTY\n And then he'll probably fuck her in\n other ways. Did you know you're\n supposed to put your pinkie in a\n girl's bumhole, Vijay?\n\n NICK\n Will you shut up and help me out?\n\n LEFTY\n Sorry, Nick. What should we do?\n\n NICK\n I suggest we steal my father's BMW\n and take", "and sees his friend.\n\n LEFTY\n Nick? What are you doing here?\n Everyone and their mother's mother\n is looking for you.\n\n NICK\n They have me soon enough. Where are\n you going?\n\n LEFTY\n Home. I'm done being dead, Nick.\n Heather and I are going back to\n Oakland for Christmas. You should\n have heard how glad my parents were\n that I didn't kill myself. They", ".\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 2 AM. I conclude the only way out\n is suicide. I begin to pen a\n poignant suicide note. Sheeni will\n see Trent for the shallow pedant he\n is and always treasure my memory.\n\n JERRY (O.S.)\n Turn off the damn light!\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Nick paces about back and forth in the yard.\n\n NICK (V." ], [ "\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I too have come to despise the\n snooty, pretentious brunette and in\n all honesty you should probably get\n her expelled. I am happy to help in\n that regard.\n\n INT. BERNICE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I have included a number of\n sleeping pills with this note.\n Bernice dumps the pills from the envelope.\n\n INT", "get Sheeni expelled and\n sent back to me I will need a\n partner in crime.\n\n INT. REDWOOD HIGH SCHOOL - COMPUTER LAB - DAY\n\n Nick enters the computer lab and finds an open machine.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Luckily, François has a girl on the\n inside.\n Nick begins typing and speaking out loud.\n\n NICK\n Dear Bernice, it was nice meeting\n you this weekend in the bathroom.\n", "\n INT. BERNICE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n Bernice reads the letter.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I just want you to know I now see\n why you loath Sheeni Saunders so\n strongly.\n\n INT. HEADMASTER'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n Sheeni, Taggarty, and Heather sit across from the HEADMASTER\n as the matron describes the events.\n\n \n\n 90.\n\n ", "kicks in the stall and finds BERNICE LYNCH, 17, a thin\n platinum haired girl with six earrings per lobe. She hurls\n into the toilet again and turns around to find Nick.\n\n BERNICE\n Who are you?\n\n NICK\n I'm Sheeni's friend, Nick. Sorry to\n disturb you.\n\n BERNICE\n That's OK. It was something I ate.\n So wait, are you Sheeni's\n", "\n you.\n\n NICK\n That's okay. I had to burn down\n half of Berkley.\n\n \n\n 61.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n That was you? Nick, are you out of\n your mind?\n\n NICK\n I felt a grand gesture was\n required, darling.\n Sheeni's expression indicates that she is touched, but it\n turns to troubled.\n\n SHEEN", "Trent can go to hell\n for all I care. Sheeni too.\n\n NICK\n You don't like Sheeni?\n\n \n\n 81.\n\n \n\n BERNICE\n Personally, I hate her guts. Well,\n pardon me, Nick. I feel like\n throwing up some more now.\n\n NICK\n You didn't happen to see Trent\n Preston did you?\n She waves him away as she b", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", "ization\n from the officials?\n\n TRENT\n No, Nick, I acted on my own\n initiative. In Bernice's closet, I\n found this letter.\n He dramatically extracts the letter from his pocket.\n\n TRENT\n In the letter, the writer\n instructed Bernice to begin\n sedating Sheeni with drugs he\n himself supplied.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Nick, you didn't!\n\n NICK\n Well,", ". CAFETERIA - DAY\n\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n You must introduce one of these\n into her breakfast beverage each\n day.\n Bernice sits next to Sheeni, despite the fact she's being\n ignored. Bernice drops a pill into Sheeni's coffee\n nonchalantly.\n\n INT. CLASSROOM - DAY\n\n Sheeni watches the INSTRUCTOR.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n She may be intelligent, but she is", "ends over the sink to hurl again.\n Then lifts her face and smiles through the dripping bile.\n\n BERNICE\n I did actually. I think he was on\n his way to Sheeni's room.\n Nick's eyes widen in alarm.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick enters the dark room to the sound of the bed squeaking.\n Vijay and Taggarty grunt away on the top bunk.\n He watches the moon lit forms", ", Nick? I\n expressly asked you not to come.\n\n NICK\n To hell with that. What do I have\n to do to prove my love to you? My\n friends have gotten laid and I'm\n pretty sure neither one of them was\n beaten with a tree trunk, raped by\n a walrus, or had to contend with\n the likes of Trent Preston!\n\n SHEENI\n You were raped by a walrus?\n\n N", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "\n another brownnosing honor student.\n What happened?\n\n NICK\n I'm not really sure. I fell in love\n with Sheeni. All I want is to be\n with her. The rest is all a big\n misunderstanding.\n\n JOANIE\n Nick, you've stolen, vandalized,\n trespassed, and burned down\n Berkeley. All for one girl. If\n there's a misunderstanding, it's\n with your insight", "?\n\n SHEENI\n I told you, darling. Trent harbors\n you no ill will. I will have him\n call your father up pretending to\n be a head hunter.\n\n NICK\n Very well, but I don't see how I am\n to live with him. My mother values\n my indentured servitude.\n\n SHEENI\n You must influence her to send you\n away. I feel this will require\n being", "In fact,\n I'm not very happy with you.\n\n NICK\n Me? What did I do?\n\n SHEENI\n You know damn well, Nick. You've\n been spreading rumors about Trent.\n And he doesn't deserve it.\n\n NICK\n Doesn't deserve it!?! I'd have to\n claim he has genital warts to sink\n to his level.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, whatever you said to Ed\n Solomon", " NICK\n Oh.\n Paul begins rolling a joint.\n\n PAUL\n Nice fire in Berkeley.\n\n \n\n 64.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Did Sheeni tell you that was me?\n\n PAUL\n She didn't have to.\n\n NICK\n Why? Was I an arsonist in a\n previous life?\n\n PAUL\n No. But Sheeni was.\n\n NICK", " SHEENI\n Of course, he was disconsolate, but\n we talked all day and he's come to\n see this as an opportunity for\n growth. Oh, and Nick, Trent wanted\n me to tell you that he bears you no\n ill will.\n\n NICK\n Nor I him. I wish him all the best.\n\n SHEENI\n His parents are sending him to a\n French speaking boarding school\n this year. He's sure", " NICK\n What do you mean?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Nick, we are young, yes? Is the\n world not our oyster? Beaucoup des\n filles. Do you not want to know\n what it is like to make love to\n another girl?\n\n NICK\n I do, but... We've come so far.\n What about Sheeni?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Forget Sheeni. Yes, she will always\n", " SHEENI\n You can read it if you'd like.\n\n \n\n 25.\n\n \n She hands it over. Nick squints at the writing.\n\n NICK\n It's in French.\n\n SHEENI\n A necessity for a child in a\n household with prying Christian\n parents.\n\n NICK\n What does it say?\n\n SHEENI\n Wouldn't you like to" ], [ "\n And with that she excuses herself, leaving Nick to ponder.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Mom is a realist about everything.\n Except her age. She's forty-three.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - LATER\n\n Nick washes dishes in the toilet-like sink. The trailer\n shakes from the two adults flogging the mattress in the back.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n An old cr", " I'm confident they will learn to\n love me. After all, I'm practically\n family.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick, you must dismiss this\n Thanksgiving notion from your mind.\n I remain firm on this issue.\n Goodbye.\n CLICK. Nick regards the phone defensively. He puts it down\n and takes a seat at the table.\n He glares at Dwayne as they eat breakfast. There comes a\n knock at the front door.\n\n NICK", " Nick, I feel for you. It must be\n tough being a teenager in this\n house.\n\n NICK\n My mother wasn't any better.\n\n LACEY\n Your mom has had a difficult time.\n She has had a great deal to put up\n with. I'm starting to appreciate\n that now.\n\n GEORGE\n Are you by any chance referring to\n me?\n\n LACEY\n If the shoe fits,", "the events to\n LEFTY'S PARENTS. Lefty glances up at Nick and gives a pained\n expression.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - LATER\n\n Nick lays on his belly reading No Exit. He looks up when he\n hears the sound of footsteps in the hall. Shadows appear\n beneath the crack in the door.\n Estelle opens the door and looks down at him.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, I just want you to know that\n I'", "He grabs her wrists and\n pulls her to him.\n\n NICK\n I hate you too.\n They share a long, intense kiss.\n They break away and she smiles in spite of herself.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - NIGHT\n\n The Saunders and extended family take their seats at the\n polished mahogany table crammed with turkey, yams, mashed\n potatoes, and cranberry sauce.\n They all lower their heads and Lacey leads them in prayer", " There, there, Ma'am. It's going to\n be okay.\n Nick watches his mother sobbing against the cop's chest for a\n beat before he rolls up the window and he and Joanie resume\n watching the movie.\n Estelle's cries of despair become...\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n ....the cries of ecstasy coming through the wall along with\n the repeated exclamation of Lance's name.\n Nick rolls over in bed. Bloodshot eyes. He haul", "Estelle appears toting Nick's\n lunch. She lets out a scream. The boys turn to face her,\n pants around their ankles.\n\n ESTELLE\n\n PERVERTS!\n She hurls the tray of food at them. Lefty bolts. Nick hastily\n tries to pull up his pants as his mother chases him around\n the room, grabbing up objects and hurling them his way.\n\n ESTELLE\n\n FRIGGIN' GODDAMN PERVERTS!\n", "!\n She catches up to Nick at the top of the stairs and cracks\n him upside the head.\n\n \n\n 48.\n\n \n He loses his balance and goes tumbling down the staircase,\n letting out a moan that stutters as his head hits each step.\n He comes crashing into the foyer, landing on the slate.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - EVENING\n\n Nick watches out the window.\n Estelle can be seen animatedly describing", "\n Nick emerges from the shrubs and approaches the house.\n He rings the ornate Victorian doorbell. Paul answers in an\n apron.\n\n PAUL\n Hello, Nick. Right on time. Come\n in.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - NIGHT\n\n Lacey floats toward him and gives him a hug.\n\n NICK\n Happy Thanksgiving, Lacey.\n She spots the sad flowers in his hand.\n\n \n\n ", " 6.\n\n \n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Nick stands in the doorway watching as his mother waits for\n Jerry to open the passenger door for her.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n After spending twelve years with\n Dad, Mom has had a string of\n lovers, none of whom she has asked\n me to approve.\n Jerry fails to notice Estelle waiting and instead just climbs\n in and chugs his beer. Estelle appears mildly", "\n\n Nick sits at the table, considerably more clothed and sober.\n George works on a jug of zin.\n\n GEORGE\n We're calling that fruitcake\n display strike one. Two more\n strikes and it's back to Oakland.\n Nick nods. The front door opens and MRS. CRAMPTON enters with\n Safeway bags of her own. Dwayne follows close behind her.\n\n DWAYNE\n Hey, Nick!\n Albert barks and j", ". Estelle knocks and enters. Nick pulls the\n headphones down around his neck.\n\n ESTELLE\n Lance and I are walking down to the\n movie theater. There's TV dinners\n in the freezer. Oh, and Nick - your\n father got a job in Ukiah.\n\n NICK\n Mom? Do you think it might be a\n good idea if I moved in with him?\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, that just wouldn't work.", "and sees his friend.\n\n LEFTY\n Nick? What are you doing here?\n Everyone and their mother's mother\n is looking for you.\n\n NICK\n They have me soon enough. Where are\n you going?\n\n LEFTY\n Home. I'm done being dead, Nick.\n Heather and I are going back to\n Oakland for Christmas. You should\n have heard how glad my parents were\n that I didn't kill myself. They", "'ll let you\n go. We'll have plenty of time to\n settle this tomorrow.\n\n \n\n 98.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Tomorrow?\n\n NICK\n Yes, Sheeni, Thanksgiving. I'll be\n coming for dinner, of course.\n\n SHEENI\n Don't even think it, Nick. You know\n my parents don't approve of you.\n\n NICK\n ", "ONE\n Amen.\n\n \n\n 106.\n\n \n They begin eating. A helicopter passes by outside, search\n light briefly coming through the windows.\n Nick watches Mr. Saunders take a handful of mashed potatoes\n and apply it to his face like war paint.\n\n MRS. SAUNDERS\n Paul? Your father looks rather\n strange.\n\n PAUL\n Well, mother, he is sitting in his\n own bowel movement.\n\n ", "his head.\n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - NIGHT\n\n We find Nick waiting in the drive with a pile of suitcases\n beside him.\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n Psst. Nick.\n Nick finds Lefty lurking in the shrubs that divide his\n mother's lawn from the neighbor's. He limps to his friend.\n\n NICK\n I was wondering what happened to\n you. Did you get to blow your wad?\n\n", "I am alive. I am a\n breathing organism.\n\n GEORGE\n Quit fooling around, Nick. This is\n your dad. Is everything okay there?\n\n NICK\n Don't be afraid, Dad. Everything\n will be okay. You deserve to be\n loved.\n\n GEORGE\n What the hell is that supposed to\n mean? Is Lacey there?\n\n NICK\n Lacey is here. Paul is caress", "voices downstairs.\n\n STAIRS - CONTINUOUS\n He comes down the first few steps and is met with the sight\n of his mother and sister staring up at him.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, your sister came all the way\n from LA for a weekend visit!\n Nick and Joanie meet eyes. She lifts a quizzical eyebrow.\n\n NICK\n Stellar.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S DINING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n ", "to get along\n there. So how is my darling Albert?\n\n \n\n 39.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Well, though he's taken a disliking\n to Jerry.\n\n SHEENI\n And you, Nickie? How are you?\n\n NICK\n I regret, Love of My Life, my\n father has lost his job and I will\n now be forced to go to public\n school.\n\n SHE", "at Nick through the\n window and show him some of her cleavage.\n\n LACEY\n Hiya, Nick!\n\n NICK\n Hi, Lacey. Hi, Dad.\n The trunk pops open.\n\n \n\n 59.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Is there any way I could sit up\n front with Lacey, Dad? Mom's\n boyfriend beat me pretty badly.\n\n GEORGE\n Sorry," ], [ "pulls out the cord.\n He joins Paul in working Lacey's feet.\n\n NICK\n Dad is afraid.\n\n LACEY\n He is on the wrong path. I have\n felt that for some time.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick watches the headlights from the arriving BMW travel\n across the walls.\n They go out. He listens to the front door being keyed\n followed by his father bellowing.\n Nick gets up and wand", "glances in the rear view mirror as the cops bear through\n the cloud kicked up in his wake.\n\n \n\n 115.\n\n \n Nick pops in a CD and turns up the Christmas music to drown\n out the sirens.\n\n EXT. COVERED BRIDGE - DAY\n\n He zips across the covered bridge, the train of law\n enforcement in hot pursuit.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - DAY\n He yanks", "Nick comes through the\n door. He's still in his underwear.\n\n NICK\n Where's Dad?\n\n LACEY\n In the bedroom. I wouldn't bother\n him, Nick. He's in a foul mood.\n He's on with the police. Apparently\n someone broke in and stole his\n Beamer.\n Lacey gives Nick an amused smile.\n\n GEORGE (O.S.)\n Lacey! Get in here!", "the wheel hard and veers off onto the mountain road.\n A few of the squad cars miss the turn and skid side-long\n through a picket fence.\n Nick takes the switchbacks at 60 per, wheels practically\n sliding off the turns.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - DAY\n\n The BMW crests the hill and smashes through the chain link\n gate.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - DAY\n As Nick watches the quickly", "s head and finishes the last touches of\n make-up that make him...\n ...who we will come to know as CARLOTTA ULANSKY. Nick regards\n his female alter-ego in the mirror.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François of course wants no part of\n this, and demands that we make a\n run for the border. But I have\n decided to veto him. It's time to\n face the music.\n\n INT. BMW 325I - D", "little wave as if he were a celebrity.\n The parking lot erupts with CHEERS of his name. A few\n Berkeley KIDS hold up a sign that reads I'M SINGLE, LET'S\n\n MINGLE.\n Then - shouts of warning from the megaphones.\n And as the flashers and sirens come to life, Nick jumps back\n into his father's car and peels out.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - DAY\n Nick", "Nick. In this car, faggots\n get the back seat.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - NIGHT\n Nick is in the back, crowded in by his belongings and Albert.\n They ride in tense silence until they pass the sight of the\n fire, where FIRE FIGHTERS sift through the ash.\n\n GEORGE\n My God. Look what you've done.\n Lacey turns to look at Nick over the seat. They share a\n smile.", "meantime we're leaving the piece of\n shit in the driveway. With a note.\n Nick looks one more time to the Chevy as the third sailor\n finishes painting the hood with the words: PAY UP OR DIE.\n\n NICK\n I like it. Very to the point.\n Well... See you guys this\n afternoon!\n The sailors nod, somewhat perplexed by this kid's demeanor.\n As they turn to go and Nick closes the door...\n\n \n\n ", " 72.\n\n \n\n LEFTY\n And then he'll probably fuck her in\n other ways. Did you know you're\n supposed to put your pinkie in a\n girl's bumhole, Vijay?\n\n NICK\n Will you shut up and help me out?\n\n LEFTY\n Sorry, Nick. What should we do?\n\n NICK\n I suggest we steal my father's BMW\n and take", "trees.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Here I am, reviled by friends and\n family. Relentlessly pursued by\n three police jurisdictions.\n Nick stops at the edge of the woods to catch his breath.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Fronçois suggests we flee the\n country. But where to go? Mexico?\n Canada? India, perhaps?\n He looks up the road which has been blocked off by flashing\n squad cars.\n\n EX", "two bags of\n groceries under his arms.\n\n NICK\n Lefty, have you seen Vijay, today?\n\n LEFTY\n Nick, haven't you heard? Vijay's\n been arrested.\n\n NICK\n Arrested?!?\n\n LEFTY\n For grand theft auto. They found\n his prints in your father's car.\n\n NICK\n That's terrible. Did he go quietly?\n\n ", "his head.\n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - NIGHT\n\n We find Nick waiting in the drive with a pile of suitcases\n beside him.\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n Psst. Nick.\n Nick finds Lefty lurking in the shrubs that divide his\n mother's lawn from the neighbor's. He limps to his friend.\n\n NICK\n I was wondering what happened to\n you. Did you get to blow your wad?\n\n", " There, there, Ma'am. It's going to\n be okay.\n Nick watches his mother sobbing against the cop's chest for a\n beat before he rolls up the window and he and Joanie resume\n watching the movie.\n Estelle's cries of despair become...\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n ....the cries of ecstasy coming through the wall along with\n the repeated exclamation of Lance's name.\n Nick rolls over in bed. Bloodshot eyes. He haul", "LATER\n\n Jerry joins Nick and Estelle in the doorway. There in the\n living room, surrounded by all the furniture pushed neatly\n against the walls, is Jerry's camouflaged Chevy.\n\n NICK\n I guess they didn't cave after all.\n Jerry pops the hood and lets out a whistle.\n\n JERRY\n Boy, everything's complete. There's\n even water in the windshield\n washer.\n\n ESTELLE\n", " \n\n NICK\n You can use my house if you want.\n\n LEFTY\n Really?\n\n NICK\n Sure. My Mom and Lance are going to\n a movie and I'm planning on\n stealing Jerry's trailer and\n torching it in a parking lot, so\n you'll have the whole house to\n yourself.\n\n LEFTY\n Right on.\n Albert finishes his business and they resume walking.\n\n", "rain gutter running across the front of\n the home.\n Nick guns it, and with a lurch the trailer splinters free. He\n dodges the birch tree, but plows over the smaller Asian pear.\n The Lincoln bounces the curb and catapults into the street,\n the trailer weaving back and forth, smashing parked cars.\n\n INT. LINCOLN (MOVING) - DAY\n\n Nick cruises along sedately. He plays with the radio and\n settles on the Sex Pistols.", " Nick places two full cannisters of gasoline into the trunk of\n the Lincoln.\n Nick's behind the wheel, backing up the car.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Tow Jerry's trailer to a remote\n parking lot in Berkeley and burn it\n to the ground.\n The hitch ball grinds under the trailer socket.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Thus evicting myself from my\n mother's clutches and into the arms\n of My One", "you too.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n As François would remind me, I'm\n intelligent, healthy, virile, not\n violently ugly... On the whole I am\n splendidly equipped for this great\n adventure we call the human\n existence.\n The FBI agents shove Nick into the back of their black\n Saturn.\n\n INT. SATURN(MOVING) - DAY\n\n Nick watches out the back window as the car pulls away. A\n view of", ". It's time\n to take action!\n THREE CUTS. The JINGLE as Nick removes his Dad's keys from\n the bureau. The trunk SLAMMING closed with the sleeping bags\n inside. The ROAR of the engine as Vijay's hand turns the key\n in the ignition.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - DAY\n As Vijay drives, Lefty holds up a road map in the back seat.\n Nick places a CD in the stere", " Nick, they're coming to arrest you!\n He slams down the phone.\n\n EXT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n The window slides open and Nick comes crawling out, leaping\n to the ground. He takes off running through the woods.\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick pounds on the door.\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n Nick?\n Nick turns to find Lefty coming up the path with" ], [ "Sheeni sprawled on the bed\n with a book.\n\n NICK\n Dinner is almost ready, My Love.\n\n SHEENI\n I do not intend to be party to my\n brother's absurdities. He has\n allowed you in and drugged my\n parents.\n\n NICK\n I think they are deriving some good\n from the experience.\n Sheeni finally looks up from her book.\n\n SHEENI\n What are you doing here", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "the stage erupts with fireworks.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Nick sleeps with a grin on his face. He rouses at the touch\n of Sheeni's lips on his cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n My parents are at services. They\n won't be back for hours.\n\n NICK\n Shall we have breakfast, my love?\n\n SHEEN", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", " SHEENI\n You can read it if you'd like.\n\n \n\n 25.\n\n \n She hands it over. Nick squints at the writing.\n\n NICK\n It's in French.\n\n SHEENI\n A necessity for a child in a\n household with prying Christian\n parents.\n\n NICK\n What does it say?\n\n SHEENI\n Wouldn't you like to", "'s\n ogre of a father who answers the door and stares at Nick\n sternly.\n\n NICK\n Uhm, hello. Is Sheeni available?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n She most certainly is not. As a\n matter of fact, we've banned you\n from her life, Nick Twisp.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Excuse me?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n ", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth", "his hands all\n along.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François is right of course, but on\n the other hand, why be cruel? After\n all, Sheeni had managed to give me\n hope every step of the way. And if\n hope is what Sheeni would now need\n to go on, well then...\n\n NICK\n As always, you are right, my love.\n Sheeni beams. François smacks his forehead with hand.\n\n FRANÇO", "\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick makes his way past the arbor, crestfallen. Sheeni\n emerges from the shadows in a hooded sweatshirt over a\n lavender dress.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick! Oh, Nick!\n Nick lights up at the sight of her and they embrace. They\n kiss passionately. He works his way to her neck and starts to\n reach under the sweatshirt.\n\n SHEENI\n I had to sneak away just to see", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "close.\n\n SHEENI\n ...but you must wait in the car\n until we can sneak you in.\n Nick nods in understanding.\n\n INT. GIRLS' DORM - HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n An empty hall. The SNEAKY STRINGS of NIGHT ON BALD MOUNTAIN.\n Sheeni rounds the corner at the far end. As she and Heather\n sneak the boys down, the other OCCUPANTS of the floor giggle\n in French and dart", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "?\n\n SHEENI\n I told you, darling. Trent harbors\n you no ill will. I will have him\n call your father up pretending to\n be a head hunter.\n\n NICK\n Very well, but I don't see how I am\n to live with him. My mother values\n my indentured servitude.\n\n SHEENI\n You must influence her to send you\n away. I feel this will require\n being", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", ", it was enough to get him\n to give Trent a black eye.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I just don't get it. This\n guy has cock-blocked at every turn\n and you're taking his side?!?\n\n SHEENI\n Cock-blocked?\n\n (SIGHS)\n We'll have to resume this another\n time, Nick. It's been an\n emotionally exhausting weekend. My\n parents are in an uproar over Paul.\n He's", "carrying her bags.\n Nick regards Sheeni and her mischievous smirk.\n\n \n\n 16.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Thanks a pantsful.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n A dusty road. Nick totes a watermelon and a paper bag. He\n watches as Sheeni works on a Popsicle. Full lips that cry out\n to be kissed.\n\n NICK\n You don'" ], [ " You are confined to your room until\n school starts, you sick pervert.\n She stalks off. Joanie glances over at Nick with amusement.\n\n NICK\n I wish I was leaving with you\n tonight.\n\n JOANIE\n Your day will come. I never thought\n mine would, but it did. Was all\n that stuff about Lacey and Dad made\n up?\n\n NICK\n I wish. Did you really take a\n post", " There, there, Ma'am. It's going to\n be okay.\n Nick watches his mother sobbing against the cop's chest for a\n beat before he rolls up the window and he and Joanie resume\n watching the movie.\n Estelle's cries of despair become...\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n ....the cries of ecstasy coming through the wall along with\n the repeated exclamation of Lance's name.\n Nick rolls over in bed. Bloodshot eyes. He haul", "!\n She catches up to Nick at the top of the stairs and cracks\n him upside the head.\n\n \n\n 48.\n\n \n He loses his balance and goes tumbling down the staircase,\n letting out a moan that stutters as his head hits each step.\n He comes crashing into the foyer, landing on the slate.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - EVENING\n\n Nick watches out the window.\n Estelle can be seen animatedly describing", " Nick turns to face the front while behind him the waving\n figure gets ever more distant. A pensive moment as he\n actually questions...\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n But was it all worth it?\n Nick revisits those thirty two minutes in his mind and it\n brings a smirk to his face.\n \n\n 125.\n\n \n\n NICK (V.O.)\n You bet your left nut it was.\n And as Tom Jones' SHE'S A", "Sheeni waving in the road, Albert at her feet.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Besides, what jury would convict a\n teenager who acted out of love?\n And even if I do get to spend the\n next few months of my youth getting\n Dwayned by the inmates of the\n California Juvenile Correctional\n System, I did get my thirty two\n minutes of lovemaking with one of\n the most outstanding girls of this\n or any other epoch.\n", "ICK\n Which means...\n\n ESTELLE\n You'll have to start going to...\n\n (DISTORTED)\n Oakland Public School.\n In Nick's eyes the fear of a sentence worse than death.\n\n \n\n 38.\n\n \n\n INT. ESTELLE'S HOME - HALLWAY - DAY\n\n Morning comes through the drapes. The phone on the side table\n is ringing. Nick emerges from his room and picks it", " minor. The judge will hear about\n that too.\n Nick gets back into his room and closes the door behind him.\n SWISH TO... Dwayne playing Nintendo naked. He looks over his\n shoulder.\n\n DWAYNE\n What's all the ruckus about?\n\n \n\n 95.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Dwayne! Please cover yourself.\n\n DWAYNE\n You wanna play Nintendo all night?\n\n NICK", "\n\n NICK\n What about Dwayne?\n\n GEORGE\n He's bunking with you.\n\n NICK\n Dad!\n\n GEORGE\n You working on strike two?\n Nick leans back and glares in silent protest as everyone\n takes their seats at the table.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick tries to shut out the sound of Dwayne getting into the\n creaky bed behind him.\n\n ", "IGHT\n\n Nick emerges from the room in nothing but his underwear and a\n whindbreaker. He creeps down the hall.\n\n EXT. ECOLE DES ARTS ET LITTERATURE - GROUNDS - NIGHT\n\n The school SECURITY VAN crawls by in the background, a\n searchlight sweeping the grounds.\n The moment it is out of sight, Nick darts from the bushes of\n the girls' dorm and races across the campus to the boys'\n dorm.\n\n INT. BOY", "ING of\n bed springs joins in.\n Another page is turned. Feverish THUMPING until a MALE VOICE\n lets out a quiet MOAN.\n The breathing gradually slows to normal and lets out a\n relieved sigh of finality.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n My name... is Nick.\n\n NICK TWISP, 16, stares up at the ceiling. He's glassy eyed\n from the exertion...\n\n INT. NICK'S RO", " 110.\n\n \n\n INT. JOANIE'S APARTMENT - LATER\n\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Since my sister can see through me,\n I'm obliged to give a relatively\n candid and thorough review of the\n events.\n Joanie listens gravely, shaking her head at the most gruesome\n parts of the story. Nick finishes, flopping into a chair.\n\n JOANIE\n Nick, six months ago you were just", "\n\n NICK\n Eight hundred and thirty seven,\n actually.\n\n SAILOR #1\n Exactly. Have it by tomorrow or\n you'll be found in the trunk of\n your new used piece of shit at the\n bottom of the Bay.\n And with that they release him and Jerry crumples to the\n floor like an abandoned marionette.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER\n\n The three of them watch the", "\n And with that she excuses herself, leaving Nick to ponder.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Mom is a realist about everything.\n Except her age. She's forty-three.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - LATER\n\n Nick washes dishes in the toilet-like sink. The trailer\n shakes from the two adults flogging the mattress in the back.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n An old cr", " Nick, they're coming to arrest you!\n He slams down the phone.\n\n EXT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n The window slides open and Nick comes crawling out, leaping\n to the ground. He takes off running through the woods.\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick pounds on the door.\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n Nick?\n Nick turns to find Lefty coming up the path with", "the events to\n LEFTY'S PARENTS. Lefty glances up at Nick and gives a pained\n expression.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - LATER\n\n Nick lays on his belly reading No Exit. He looks up when he\n hears the sound of footsteps in the hall. Shadows appear\n beneath the crack in the door.\n Estelle opens the door and looks down at him.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, I just want you to know that\n I'", "when Paul opens it in\n another display of clairvoyance.\n\n PAUL\n Welcome back, Nick. We had a\n feeling you were coming.\n\n INT. PAUL'S HIDEOUT ABOVE GARAGE - LATER\n\n Nick sits beside Paul and Lacey on the couch as they watch\n the infamous \"chicken scene\" in REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Paul and Lacey are kind enough to\n share some le", "\n \n\n 56.\n\n \n\n LANCE\n He was also wearing a tee shirt\n with the words: I'm single, let's\n mingle.\n Nick glances down at the lettering on his shirt. Oops.\n Estelle bursts into tears.\n\n ESTELLE\n What am I going to do? My only son\n will be sent to prison!\n Lance takes Estelle in his arms and smirks at Nick.\n\n", ".\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 2 AM. I conclude the only way out\n is suicide. I begin to pen a\n poignant suicide note. Sheeni will\n see Trent for the shallow pedant he\n is and always treasure my memory.\n\n JERRY (O.S.)\n Turn off the damn light!\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Nick paces about back and forth in the yard.\n\n NICK (V.", "? I'd say he\n deserves a good hiding.\n\n ESTELLE\n (cupping the squawking\n\n PHONE)\n He's too much for me anymore. Can\n you do it, Lance, darling?\n Lance gives Nick another smirk.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick let's out a yelp of pain as Lance brings a broken tree\n limb against his bare bottom. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!", "account of\n the worst night of my life.\n Nick flipping through a Penthouse under the covers.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 1 AM. I decide it is just a case of\n puppy love and look forward to the\n interesting women I shall meet in\n the future.\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n A light comes on in the window.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick at the dining table, writing a note" ], [ "Jerry pushes out and disappears into the back. Nick watches\n him with loathing. Estelle smiles apologetically.\n\n NICK\n Mom? Do you really like Jerry?\n Her smile fades.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, how many men do you think\n there are who'd be interested in a\n forty-one year old woman with two\n brats, no money, and stretch marks?", " 6.\n\n \n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Nick stands in the doorway watching as his mother waits for\n Jerry to open the passenger door for her.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n After spending twelve years with\n Dad, Mom has had a string of\n lovers, none of whom she has asked\n me to approve.\n Jerry fails to notice Estelle waiting and instead just climbs\n in and chugs his beer. Estelle appears mildly", "\n around her.\n\n JERRY\n C'mon Estelle. It's real cute on\n the inside.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Substitute cluttered for cute. The three of them are crammed\n around a dining surface as accommodating as an airplane tray\n table. 3-D religious art hangs on the wall above them.\n\n JERRY\n I say the kid does the dishes and\n we retire to the master bedroom.\n ", "\n\n JERRY\n You see that, Babe. They caved.\n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Jerry backs the RV into the drive as Nick helps his mother\n with her belongings and they enter the house. The RV scrapes\n its way through a few overhanging tree branches before Jerry\n decides it's parked.\n There comes a woman's scream from inside the house.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS", "Estelle\n is washing dishes when she spies something out the window.\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry? Where did that car come\n from?\n Jerry looks over his shoulder and they all take a moment to\n appreciate the slab-sided Lincoln in the drive.\n\n JERRY\n It's a '62 Lincoln convertible.\n Like the one Kennedy was shot in.\n\n NICK\n Except his was black and yours is\n white. And dirty.\n\n J", ".\n\n ESTELLE\n Wally was a friend of Jerry's. He\n came to help me in my time of\n mourning.\n\n \n\n 85.\n\n \n\n NICK\n What happened to Lance?\n Estelle's face registers \"none of your business,\" but a kind\n look from Wally and she softens.\n\n ESTELLE\n Lance is busy training to be a\n detective. He isn't around", ".\n\n NICK\n Jerry, where are you going? Just\n tell them you are in the right.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S HOME - CONTINUOUS\n\n They manage to grab Jerry by the legs and haul him down the\n stairs. Jerry loses his grasp step by step, crying with a\n sound not unlike E.T. when the flashlight hit him in the\n cornfield.\n The two big guys with bad haircuts hold Jerry off the ground\n while the earnstwhile Chevy", "They've pulled to a stop. Estelle stares in horror.\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry...? You said it was a cabin.\n In the back, Nick removes his sunglasses to regard the long,\n green, turd of a trailer. Some concrete dwarves in the grass.\n A dusty canvas awning over a small cement patio. A decrepit\n picket fence with a sign that reads: MY GREEN HAVEN.\n Estelle looks as if she's about to cry. Jerry puts his arm", "fleet pile into a Navy van that\n reads FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY. The moment they pull out, Jerry\n dusts himself off and puts on a pretense of being unfazed.\n\n JERRY\n Wow, those guys are even dumber\n than I thought. They actually think\n I'm stupid enough to let them\n muscle me into paying.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry, what are you talking about?\n We", "ESTELLE\n Goodbye, everyone! We're going on\n vacation!\n\n JERRY\n Let's blow!\n\n \n\n 13.\n\n \n She hops up front with Jerry. He fires up the Lincoln and the\n radio roars to life with HILLBILLY MUSIC.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I'm not sure how this is the\n solution to his problem. But I've\n decided to go", "O.)\n Mom gives driver's tests at the\n Department of Motor Vehicles.\n Nick sits at the kitchen table reading the paper. He watches\n with nausea as Estelle piles liver onto his plate.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n She used to keep Dad up to date on\n all the motor statutes he was\n violating. This is one of the\n reasons they got divorced.\n JERRY, early 40's, saunters in wearing a TRUCK", "cans. He's behind\n the wheel of his Lincoln convertible.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Jerry says we'll be staying in a\n cabin on Clear Lake that's owned by\n a friend of his.\n Estelle dumps in the cooking gear and closes the trunk. Her\n halter top looks like an advertisement for Droop City. Nick's\n in the back. Estelle waves at the neighbors like she's Miss\n Corn Dog of 1954.\n\n ", "\n ESTELLE\n You're leaving? What happens when\n the sailor comes back for his nine-\n hundred dollars?\n\n JERRY\n Just tell him he bought the car\n with my standard guarantee. Thirty\n days or thirty feet. Whichever\n comes first. I'm in the right.\n And on cue comes the ring of the doorbell and the\n simultaneous pounding of angry Navy fists on the back door.\n They peer out the window and find the", "owner goes through his pockets.\n\n \n\n 11.\n\n \n\n SAILOR #1\n Sixty-three lousy dollars.\n\n JERRY\n That's my life savings!\n One of the sailors pokes Jerry in the gut hard and he\n whimpers.\n\n ESTELLE\n Don't hurt him! Nick, call 911!\n\n SAILOR #1\n Touch that phone, kid, and you", "ERRY\n See that. I was going to take you\n and your mom for a spin after\n breakfast. But now I guess it'll\n just be her and me. You have your\n smart mouth to thank for that.\n\n NICK\n Damn it. I guess I'll just have to\n hang out all alone at the book\n depository.\n\n JERRY\n The what?\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry, I don't understand.", " ESTELLE\n What the in God's name has gotten\n into you?!? Jerry paid good money\n for that trailer!\n\n NICK\n And just what makes you so sure it\n was me?\n\n ESTELLE\n Who the hell else would write such\n a thing?\n Estelle gestures to the trailer, which we can see has been\n defaced with the words GOD'S PERFECT ASSHOLE.\n\n ESTELLE\n And", "Albert chews on Jerry's sock under the table.\n\n JERRY\n Can someone do something about the\n mutt?\n The family dines over take-out fried chicken. Jerry kicks\n Albert and the puppy goes tumbling across the floor.\n\n ESTELLE\n I don't know, Jerry. Can someone do\n something about the monstrosity\n dripping oil in my living room?\n\n JOANIE\n Yeah, I noticed that. What's the", "\n\n 37.\n\n \n\n JERRY\n Hey, Nick. Want to learn how a car\n is put together?\n\n NICK\n No, thanks. Auto mechanics doesn't\n interest me.\n\n JERRY\n See, Estelle, I told you the kid\n was queer-eeAAAAHHHHH!\n Jerry lurches backward in the chair and lands on the floor,\n revealing that Albert's teeth have a firm grasp on Jerry's", " LEFTY (O.S.)\n True. What if I shove it up the\n wrong hole?\n Nick gives a dubious glance in Lefty's direction.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Lefty's grasp of the female anatomy\n is somewhat tenuous; he imagines\n there are orifices galore down\n there.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S KITCHEN - DAY\n\n\n JERRY\n Nick, you", "\n sack. The dog shakes the scrotum in his jaws.\n\n JERRY\n Damn it! The dog!\n He tries to swipe Albert with his beer bottle, but the dog\n retreats into the house, leaving Jerry rolling around on the\n floor.\n Joanie and Nick exchange a smile. The phone rings. Estelle\n gets up to answer it.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, put the dog in the basement.\n\n INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT\n\n Nick" ], [ " No. Who the hell are you?\n\n \n\n 78.\n\n \n\n NICK\n I am Nick Twisp.\n\n ED\n Oh, so you're Nick.\n\n NICK\n Is Trent here?\n\n ED\n You just missed him, Nick. He just\n grabbed a couple condoms and left.\n\n NICK\n Did he say where he was going?\n\n ED\n I think he said he", "\n Twisp residence.\n\n ESTELLE (V.O.)\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Oh. Hey, Mom. What's up?\n\n ESTELLE (V.O.)\n Nickie, I have some bad news!\n Nick sighs.\n\n NICK\n Okay. I'm ready. What is it?\n\n ESTELLE (V.O.)\n I'm afraid Lance and Wally got into\n a terrible", " dead.\n The other guests murmur their shock. Nick stops in the\n doorway.\n\n NICK\n Goodbye, Sheeni. I did it all for\n you.\n\n SHEENI\n You are completely contemptible,\n Nick Twisp. I never wish to see you\n again.\n With the dreadful proclamation ringing in his ears, Nick\n leaves.\n\n EXT. WOODS - NIGHT\n\n Nick's silhouette figure racing through the", ". The car is\n already packed.\n Nick nods glumly and Sheeni seems overcome with remorse.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick Twisp, I will not allow you to\n accept defeat so easily!\n\n (MORE)\n\n \n\n 62.\n\n \n SHEENI (cont'd)\n When the time is right, you must\n make your way to Santa Cruz. And\n then we will make love.\n Nick lifts", "\n at 35,000 feet.\n\n We reach the end of the aisle, where a buxom twenty-\n something, JOANIE TWISP serves a beverage.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S KITCHEN - DAY\n\n Liver frying in a pan. ESTELLE TWISP, 43, cooks and puffs on\n a cigarette at the same time.\n\n \n\n 3.\n\n \n\n NICK (V.", "'s\n ogre of a father who answers the door and stares at Nick\n sternly.\n\n NICK\n Uhm, hello. Is Sheeni available?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n She most certainly is not. As a\n matter of fact, we've banned you\n from her life, Nick Twisp.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Excuse me?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n ", "Estelle.\n Nick watches as Wally puts his arm around his mother and they\n listen to the Chevy play them Elvis' LOVE ME TENDER.\n The two adults snuggle in the glow of the tail lights and it\n brings an unexpected rush of caring in his expression.\n\n EXT. UKIAH - DAY\n\n The truck rumbles to a stop and the three boys climb out.\n Nick looks, over his shoulder at Wally blushing behind the\n wheel of the truck.\n\n WALLY\n ", "Mr. and Mrs. Saunders, you remember\n Nick Twisp, don't you?\n Mrs. Saunders coos and takes the flowers. Her husband squints\n up at him.\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You are very, very tall.\n\n PAUL\n No he's not, Dad. He just appears\n tall because you are on the floor.\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n I can feel the floor pushing\n against me. Can you feel it too,", "INA MANION, 17, speaks into a STUDENT NEWS CREW CAMERA.\n\n TINA\n This is Tina Manion reporting live\n at Redwood High in Ukiah where\n local law enforcement as well as\n the FBI awaits the promised arrival\n of Nick Twisp.\n There comes a murmur from the crowd and Tina directs the\n student camera-man to the road on the ridge where...\n George's BMW pulls to a stop overlooking the", " 6.\n\n \n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Nick stands in the doorway watching as his mother waits for\n Jerry to open the passenger door for her.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n After spending twelve years with\n Dad, Mom has had a string of\n lovers, none of whom she has asked\n me to approve.\n Jerry fails to notice Estelle waiting and instead just climbs\n in and chugs his beer. Estelle appears mildly", "ING of\n bed springs joins in.\n Another page is turned. Feverish THUMPING until a MALE VOICE\n lets out a quiet MOAN.\n The breathing gradually slows to normal and lets out a\n relieved sigh of finality.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n My name... is Nick.\n\n NICK TWISP, 16, stares up at the ceiling. He's glassy eyed\n from the exertion...\n\n INT. NICK'S RO", "rings.\n\n LACEY\n Nick? Get the phone?\n Nick picks up the phone and Paul takes his place at Lacey's\n feet.\n\n NICK\n (into phone)\n Hello?\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - NIGHT\n George cradles the cell phone. WE INTERCUT.\n\n GEORGE\n Nick? Is that you?\n\n NICK\n I am Nick Twisp.", "\n Not a chance, Mr. Twisp. Such\n things are reserved for girl talk\n only. And for good reason.\n She smiles at him and he smiles back.\n\n NICK\n Very well, Sheeni. Don't be long.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick prances into the living room in his underwear.\n He starts to head into the kitchen when he catches sight of\n the full length mirror out of the corner of his eye. He stops\n", " \n NICK/CARLOTTA (cont'd)\n The greater the love, the stronger\n the passions, the more reckless the\n crimes.\n Sheeni lets go a slight, wistful smile.\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Carlotta. Nick had wonderful a\n way of making me feel worthy of the\n pursuit.\n\n NICK/CARLOTTA\n My dear, if there's one thing the\n demise of Nick Twisp has taught", "\n And with that she excuses herself, leaving Nick to ponder.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Mom is a realist about everything.\n Except her age. She's forty-three.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - LATER\n\n Nick washes dishes in the toilet-like sink. The trailer\n shakes from the two adults flogging the mattress in the back.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n An old cr", "!\n She catches up to Nick at the top of the stairs and cracks\n him upside the head.\n\n \n\n 48.\n\n \n He loses his balance and goes tumbling down the staircase,\n letting out a moan that stutters as his head hits each step.\n He comes crashing into the foyer, landing on the slate.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - EVENING\n\n Nick watches out the window.\n Estelle can be seen animatedly describing", "They've pulled to a stop. Estelle stares in horror.\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry...? You said it was a cabin.\n In the back, Nick removes his sunglasses to regard the long,\n green, turd of a trailer. Some concrete dwarves in the grass.\n A dusty canvas awning over a small cement patio. A decrepit\n picket fence with a sign that reads: MY GREEN HAVEN.\n Estelle looks as if she's about to cry. Jerry puts his arm", "\n\n 50.\n\n \n\n INT. OAKLAND PUBLIC SCHOOL - HALLWAY - DAY\n\n WE DRIFT down the corridor where Nick dials at a pay phone.\n\n FEMALE CASEWORKER (V.O.)\n Office of Child Welfare.\n\n NICK\n Hello, uh... My name is Nick. Nick\n Twisp. My father's name is George\n Twisp.\n\n FEMALE CASEWORK", " There, there, Ma'am. It's going to\n be okay.\n Nick watches his mother sobbing against the cop's chest for a\n beat before he rolls up the window and he and Joanie resume\n watching the movie.\n Estelle's cries of despair become...\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n ....the cries of ecstasy coming through the wall along with\n the repeated exclamation of Lance's name.\n Nick rolls over in bed. Bloodshot eyes. He haul", ". Estelle knocks and enters. Nick pulls the\n headphones down around his neck.\n\n ESTELLE\n Lance and I are walking down to the\n movie theater. There's TV dinners\n in the freezer. Oh, and Nick - your\n father got a job in Ukiah.\n\n NICK\n Mom? Do you think it might be a\n good idea if I moved in with him?\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, that just wouldn't work." ], [ ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "the Saunders' home.\n\n NICK\n I'm not familiar with Futurist\n Percussive poems.\n\n SHEENI\n I could recite one of Trent's if\n you'd like.\n\n NICK\n Please do.\n She takes a dramatic pause.\n\n \n\n 21.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n RamDam 12/ Sizzle mop/ Crunch down/\n ", "istible to\n women.\n PUSH IN on his reflection, as a moustache appears. Then a\n beret and black and white striped shirt. Then a cigarette\n holder and Thompson machine-gun. And FRANÇOIS is born.\n\n NICK\n Hello, François. I think you'll do\n nicely.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Oui, I am ze perfect match pour une\n Francophile for ze likes of Sheeni\n Saunders. I have ze calcul", "even though I am no longer a\n believer I always found the\n services wonderfully aerobic.\n\n NICK\n You could say the same thing about\n sex.\n Sheeni stops. She looks at Nick intently.\n\n \n\n 17.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Nick, are you going to turn out\n like all the other young men and\n have nothing on your mind except\n carnal pleasures?\n\n NICK", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", " SHEENI\n Take me darling!\n And as they engage in a feverish kiss, ROUSING HYMNS surge.\n The church chorus' joyful song rings Hallelujah.\n The two lovers are entwined before an abstract RED\n\n BACKGROUND.\n\n LAS VEGAS OF THE BODY\n Into the NICK'S PENIS nightclub where champagne bottles POP\n with the ringing in of a new era, and the Leopards ROAR, and\n ", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "Trent Preston informed us that not\n only were you moving here to pursue\n my daughter, but that you're not\n even mentally-handicapped, and thus\n molested my wife in the shower of\n sound mind and body.\n\n NICK\n That rat-fink-fuck!\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You watch your language. This is a\n Christian home. We're sending\n Sheeni to Les École des Arts and\n Literatures in Santa", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth", "footing\n on the slippery tile. He goes down, taking Mrs. Saunders with\n him. They wrangle in the mist as Nick tries to escape.\n\n MRS. SAUNDERS\n\n RAPE! RAAAAAPE!\n Suddenly the door opens. It's Sheeni in her robe. She reaches\n out and pulls Nick up.\n\n SHEENI\n Get out quick!\n Still wearing her robe, she dives into the spray to save her\n mother. Nick grabs his", " NICK\n What do you mean?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Nick, we are young, yes? Is the\n world not our oyster? Beaucoup des\n filles. Do you not want to know\n what it is like to make love to\n another girl?\n\n NICK\n I do, but... We've come so far.\n What about Sheeni?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Forget Sheeni. Yes, she will always\n", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "DES ARTS ET LITTÉRATURE - HALLWAY - DAY\n\n Sheeni chats up a gathering of HANDSOME BOYS in the hall.\n They regard her lustfully.\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n ...English cannot be spoken on\n campus even if you are hemorrhaging\n from an accidental limb amputation.\n\n INT. GYMNASIUM - DAY\n\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I have", "I (O.S.)\n Oh, Father, do shut up.\n Sheeni descends the stairs. Jean cut-offs over a knockout\n yellow swimsuit that shows off her flowing nubility.\n Mr. Saunders grumbles. Sheeni grabs up a straw beach bag and\n pushes Nick out the door.\n\n SHEENI\n Let's go, Nick. Bye, Father.\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n Vaya con Dios!\n\n EXT. BEACH -", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", " NICK\n Oh.\n Paul begins rolling a joint.\n\n PAUL\n Nice fire in Berkeley.\n\n \n\n 64.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Did Sheeni tell you that was me?\n\n PAUL\n She didn't have to.\n\n NICK\n Why? Was I an arsonist in a\n previous life?\n\n PAUL\n No. But Sheeni was.\n\n NICK", " SHEENI\n You can read it if you'd like.\n\n \n\n 25.\n\n \n She hands it over. Nick squints at the writing.\n\n NICK\n It's in French.\n\n SHEENI\n A necessity for a child in a\n household with prying Christian\n parents.\n\n NICK\n What does it say?\n\n SHEENI\n Wouldn't you like to", "Sheeni sprawled on the bed\n with a book.\n\n NICK\n Dinner is almost ready, My Love.\n\n SHEENI\n I do not intend to be party to my\n brother's absurdities. He has\n allowed you in and drugged my\n parents.\n\n NICK\n I think they are deriving some good\n from the experience.\n Sheeni finally looks up from her book.\n\n SHEENI\n What are you doing here", " 103.\n\n \n\n LACEY\n What interesting flowers, Nick. Who\n are they for?\n\n NICK\n Uh, Mrs. Saunders.\n Lacey leads him by the hand into the chintz-bedecked parlor.\n Sheeni's larger-than-life father and 5,000 year old mother\n sit cross-legged on the floor, running their hands over the\n hooked rug.\n\n LACEY\n " ], [ "Do you like it? I bought it in\n Santa Rosa last fall. I had hoped\n to wear it for Nick.\n\n NICK/CARLOTTA\n Oh, darling, I'm sure he would have\n found it most... Appealing.\n Sheeni crawls into bed. She cuddles close.\n\n \n\n 120.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n I like lying here with you,\n Carlotta.\n\n NICK/", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "REEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick comes up the path and stops short at the picket fence.\n Estelle and Sheeni squat on the patio steps.\n\n SHEENI\n Hel-lo, Excitable Boy.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, honey, meet Sheeni Saunders.\n\n NICK\n Hello.\n\n ESTELLE\n Sheeni needs to go to the grocery\n store. I've offered her your help\n in", "carrying her bags.\n Nick regards Sheeni and her mischievous smirk.\n\n \n\n 16.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Thanks a pantsful.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n A dusty road. Nick totes a watermelon and a paper bag. He\n watches as Sheeni works on a Popsicle. Full lips that cry out\n to be kissed.\n\n NICK\n You don'", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "squirming\n\n PUPPIES.\n She brings one of them over.\n\n SHEENI\n Look, Nick!\n She shows him the ugly little pug. Short droopy ears, a tiny,\n batlike face.\n\n NICK\n Great.\n\n SHEENI\n (to the geezer)\n How much?\n\n GEEZER\n Ten dollars.\n Sheeni turns to Nick pleadingly. Nick fishes through his\n wallet", "the stage erupts with fireworks.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Nick sleeps with a grin on his face. He rouses at the touch\n of Sheeni's lips on his cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n My parents are at services. They\n won't be back for hours.\n\n NICK\n Shall we have breakfast, my love?\n\n SHEEN", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "kicks in the stall and finds BERNICE LYNCH, 17, a thin\n platinum haired girl with six earrings per lobe. She hurls\n into the toilet again and turns around to find Nick.\n\n BERNICE\n Who are you?\n\n NICK\n I'm Sheeni's friend, Nick. Sorry to\n disturb you.\n\n BERNICE\n That's OK. It was something I ate.\n So wait, are you Sheeni's\n", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "his hands all\n along.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François is right of course, but on\n the other hand, why be cruel? After\n all, Sheeni had managed to give me\n hope every step of the way. And if\n hope is what Sheeni would now need\n to go on, well then...\n\n NICK\n As always, you are right, my love.\n Sheeni beams. François smacks his forehead with hand.\n\n FRANÇO", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find" ], [ " looks on with appropriate jealousy.\n\n SHEENI\n I'm going to name him Albert.\n (pronounced Al-bear)\n\n GEEZER\n That don't sound like any kind of\n name for a dog.\n\n SHEENI\n (scowling defensively)\n I'll have you know I've named him\n after the deceased French writer,\n Albert Camus. Author of L'Etranger\n and other", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "squirming\n\n PUPPIES.\n She brings one of them over.\n\n SHEENI\n Look, Nick!\n She shows him the ugly little pug. Short droopy ears, a tiny,\n batlike face.\n\n NICK\n Great.\n\n SHEENI\n (to the geezer)\n How much?\n\n GEEZER\n Ten dollars.\n Sheeni turns to Nick pleadingly. Nick fishes through his\n wallet", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", ")\n Well... YEAH!\n A beat as Nick's open admissions makes her consider his\n point. She sighs and shakes her head.\n\n SHEENI\n How is my dog?\n\n NICK\n Excellent. He should be coming out\n of the oven right about now.\n She tosses the book at him, but he dodges it successfully.\n\n SHEENI\n I hate you, Nickie!\n She stands up and tries to slap him.", ".\n\n \n\n 30.\n\n \n\n NICK\n All I have is a Subway card with\n four stickers.\n\n GEEZER\n Sold.\n\n NICK\n No doubt close to the dog's actual\n value.\n\n SHEENI\n Oh, thank you, Nickie!\n She plants a kiss on his lips and promptly turns her\n attention to the dog, who licks her face affectionately. Nick\n", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "Sheeni waving in the road, Albert at her feet.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Besides, what jury would convict a\n teenager who acted out of love?\n And even if I do get to spend the\n next few months of my youth getting\n Dwayned by the inmates of the\n California Juvenile Correctional\n System, I did get my thirty two\n minutes of lovemaking with one of\n the most outstanding girls of this\n or any other epoch.\n", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "anks Nick's sunglasses off\n and tosses them over her shoulder into the lake.\n\n EXT. GEEZER'S MANOR - DAY\n\n Estelle, Jerry, Nick, and a toothless old GEEZER whose gut\n rivals Jerry's, all stare at a rusty RV that looks like it\n might not make the trip back.\n In the background, Sheeni pets a goat in the dusty yard.\n\n \n\n 29.\n\n \n\n J", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "plate reads THUNDER\n\n ROD.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Leaving just one last piece of\n business.\n\n EXT. CEMETERY - DAY\n\n And finally we arrive on Sheeni, expressionless. And as we\n continue to PAN we reach...\n Carlotta standing in the background. The bombshell haircut\n and thick glasses can barely be made out through her veil.\n Paul finishes his trumpet solo and there is a moment of\n silence to observe the open c", "carrying her bags.\n Nick regards Sheeni and her mischievous smirk.\n\n \n\n 16.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Thanks a pantsful.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n A dusty road. Nick totes a watermelon and a paper bag. He\n watches as Sheeni works on a Popsicle. Full lips that cry out\n to be kissed.\n\n NICK\n You don'", "kicks in the stall and finds BERNICE LYNCH, 17, a thin\n platinum haired girl with six earrings per lobe. She hurls\n into the toilet again and turns around to find Nick.\n\n BERNICE\n Who are you?\n\n NICK\n I'm Sheeni's friend, Nick. Sorry to\n disturb you.\n\n BERNICE\n That's OK. It was something I ate.\n So wait, are you Sheeni's\n" ], [ " looks on with appropriate jealousy.\n\n SHEENI\n I'm going to name him Albert.\n (pronounced Al-bear)\n\n GEEZER\n That don't sound like any kind of\n name for a dog.\n\n SHEENI\n (scowling defensively)\n I'll have you know I've named him\n after the deceased French writer,\n Albert Camus. Author of L'Etranger\n and other", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", "squirming\n\n PUPPIES.\n She brings one of them over.\n\n SHEENI\n Look, Nick!\n She shows him the ugly little pug. Short droopy ears, a tiny,\n batlike face.\n\n NICK\n Great.\n\n SHEENI\n (to the geezer)\n How much?\n\n GEEZER\n Ten dollars.\n Sheeni turns to Nick pleadingly. Nick fishes through his\n wallet", ")\n Well... YEAH!\n A beat as Nick's open admissions makes her consider his\n point. She sighs and shakes her head.\n\n SHEENI\n How is my dog?\n\n NICK\n Excellent. He should be coming out\n of the oven right about now.\n She tosses the book at him, but he dodges it successfully.\n\n SHEENI\n I hate you, Nickie!\n She stands up and tries to slap him.", "Sheeni waving in the road, Albert at her feet.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Besides, what jury would convict a\n teenager who acted out of love?\n And even if I do get to spend the\n next few months of my youth getting\n Dwayned by the inmates of the\n California Juvenile Correctional\n System, I did get my thirty two\n minutes of lovemaking with one of\n the most outstanding girls of this\n or any other epoch.\n", ".\n\n \n\n 30.\n\n \n\n NICK\n All I have is a Subway card with\n four stickers.\n\n GEEZER\n Sold.\n\n NICK\n No doubt close to the dog's actual\n value.\n\n SHEENI\n Oh, thank you, Nickie!\n She plants a kiss on his lips and promptly turns her\n attention to the dog, who licks her face affectionately. Nick\n", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "plate reads THUNDER\n\n ROD.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Leaving just one last piece of\n business.\n\n EXT. CEMETERY - DAY\n\n And finally we arrive on Sheeni, expressionless. And as we\n continue to PAN we reach...\n Carlotta standing in the background. The bombshell haircut\n and thick glasses can barely be made out through her veil.\n Paul finishes his trumpet solo and there is a moment of\n silence to observe the open c", " NICK\n Oh.\n Paul begins rolling a joint.\n\n PAUL\n Nice fire in Berkeley.\n\n \n\n 64.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Did Sheeni tell you that was me?\n\n PAUL\n She didn't have to.\n\n NICK\n Why? Was I an arsonist in a\n previous life?\n\n PAUL\n No. But Sheeni was.\n\n NICK", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "anks Nick's sunglasses off\n and tosses them over her shoulder into the lake.\n\n EXT. GEEZER'S MANOR - DAY\n\n Estelle, Jerry, Nick, and a toothless old GEEZER whose gut\n rivals Jerry's, all stare at a rusty RV that looks like it\n might not make the trip back.\n In the background, Sheeni pets a goat in the dusty yard.\n\n \n\n 29.\n\n \n\n J", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "istible to\n women.\n PUSH IN on his reflection, as a moustache appears. Then a\n beret and black and white striped shirt. Then a cigarette\n holder and Thompson machine-gun. And FRANÇOIS is born.\n\n NICK\n Hello, François. I think you'll do\n nicely.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Oui, I am ze perfect match pour une\n Francophile for ze likes of Sheeni\n Saunders. I have ze calcul" ], [ "We can\n visit each other when I get a\n drivers license.\n\n SHEENI\n I hope that's true, but.. It's not\n that. It's...\n\n NICK\n What?\n\n SHEENI\n It's my parents. They're... I fear\n they will never allow me to keep\n Albert.\n\n NICK\n Oh.\n Nick tries to hide his hurt. Picks up the paper with\n ", "\n That's it? Nothing else about me?\n Vijay picks up the letter again.\n\n VIJAY\n Oh yes... Love to you and Albert.\n (setting down the letter)\n Who's Albert?\n\n NICK\n Albert is our dog. This is a\n disaster. What the hell does she\n mean Trent wants to mend the\n relationship?\n\n VIJAY\n I don't know, but this Taggarty\n ", "Albert chews on Jerry's sock under the table.\n\n JERRY\n Can someone do something about the\n mutt?\n The family dines over take-out fried chicken. Jerry kicks\n Albert and the puppy goes tumbling across the floor.\n\n ESTELLE\n I don't know, Jerry. Can someone do\n something about the monstrosity\n dripping oil in my living room?\n\n JOANIE\n Yeah, I noticed that. What's the", "to get along\n there. So how is my darling Albert?\n\n \n\n 39.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Well, though he's taken a disliking\n to Jerry.\n\n SHEENI\n And you, Nickie? How are you?\n\n NICK\n I regret, Love of My Life, my\n father has lost his job and I will\n now be forced to go to public\n school.\n\n SHE", "And Only Love.\n Nick fires up the V-8 engine and shifts into drive, pulling\n forward. He cuts across the lawn.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François wanted to torch the\n trailer where it sits, but I've\n convinced him a parking lot will\n reduce the risk of collateral\n damage.\n The trailer clips the corner of the house. Chunks of stucco\n fall and the galvanized downspout shudders and writhes,\n collapsing the long", "Sheeni waving in the road, Albert at her feet.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Besides, what jury would convict a\n teenager who acted out of love?\n And even if I do get to spend the\n next few months of my youth getting\n Dwayned by the inmates of the\n California Juvenile Correctional\n System, I did get my thirty two\n minutes of lovemaking with one of\n the most outstanding girls of this\n or any other epoch.\n", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "works of existential\n brilliance.\n The geezer looks to Nick with an expression of \"I stand\n corrected.\" Nick returns with a nod that says \"You have no\n idea.\"\n\n INT. LINCOLN (MOVING) - DAY\n\n The Lincoln now tows the rusty RV behind it. Nick watches\n Sheeni continue to fawn over Albert.\n\n INT. CAFE - DAY\n\n Nick and Sheeni dine over coffee and a plate of donuts. Nick\n watches her play with Albert in", "AY\n\n Albert looks up at Nick and lets out a BARK. Nick smiles and\n bends down to undo his leash.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S HOME - HALLWAY -DAY\n\n Lance bursts from the bathroom in his boxers, looking for\n blood. He hears the sound of paws climbing the stairs. Albert\n comes hurtling around he corner, almost losing his footing on\n the hardwood floor.\n\n ALBERT'S POV\n as we lunge at Lance's c", "\n sack. The dog shakes the scrotum in his jaws.\n\n JERRY\n Damn it! The dog!\n He tries to swipe Albert with his beer bottle, but the dog\n retreats into the house, leaving Jerry rolling around on the\n floor.\n Joanie and Nick exchange a smile. The phone rings. Estelle\n gets up to answer it.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, put the dog in the basement.\n\n INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT\n\n Nick", "stoops to secure the leash around the piping. He regards\n the little pug. Albert WHIMPERS and cocks his head.\n The door at the top of the stairs opens and Estelle descends\n the first few steps.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, that was your father on the\n phone. He lost his job.\n\n NICK\n How unlike him.\n\n ESTELLE\n Watch your smart mouth. This means\n the end of child support.\n\n N", "Squeeze darling\n Albert for me.\n She pulls her hood over her head. Nick watches wistfully as\n she slips away into the forest.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I have endured a five million\n dollar beating for nothing.\n\n (BEAT)\n I have been stabbed. Stabbed in the\n back.\n\n INT. GYMNASIUM - DAY\n\n Two WRESTLERS slam down onto the mat below us.\n", "along with it, seeing\n as I'm not rooting for him anyway.\n As they pull out, Jerry tosses his beer bottle at the garbage\n can at the end of the drive and it once again misses and\n shatters on the street behind them.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY\n\n The Lincoln makes it's way upstate, and dips into the mist\n covered hills of Ukiah.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n ", " Nick places two full cannisters of gasoline into the trunk of\n the Lincoln.\n Nick's behind the wheel, backing up the car.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Tow Jerry's trailer to a remote\n parking lot in Berkeley and burn it\n to the ground.\n The hitch ball grinds under the trailer socket.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Thus evicting myself from my\n mother's clutches and into the arms\n of My One", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", "his hands all\n along.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François is right of course, but on\n the other hand, why be cruel? After\n all, Sheeni had managed to give me\n hope every step of the way. And if\n hope is what Sheeni would now need\n to go on, well then...\n\n NICK\n As always, you are right, my love.\n Sheeni beams. François smacks his forehead with hand.\n\n FRANÇO", "IGHT\n\n Nick emerges from the room in nothing but his underwear and a\n whindbreaker. He creeps down the hall.\n\n EXT. ECOLE DES ARTS ET LITTERATURE - GROUNDS - NIGHT\n\n The school SECURITY VAN crawls by in the background, a\n searchlight sweeping the grounds.\n The moment it is out of sight, Nick darts from the bushes of\n the girls' dorm and races across the campus to the boys'\n dorm.\n\n INT. BOY", " DWAYNE\n Say, Nick. You wanna sleep in bed\n with me? It'll be tons warmer.\n\n NICK\n No thank you, Dwayne.\n A knock at the door. Lacey enters.\n\n LACEY\n This came for you, Nick.\n Nick sits up in bed to receive the letter. As Lacey leaves,\n he tears through the wax seal and unfolds its contents.\n\n DWAYNE\n Is it a love letter, Nick?\n", "\n\n 37.\n\n \n\n JERRY\n Hey, Nick. Want to learn how a car\n is put together?\n\n NICK\n No, thanks. Auto mechanics doesn't\n interest me.\n\n JERRY\n See, Estelle, I told you the kid\n was queer-eeAAAAHHHHH!\n Jerry lurches backward in the chair and lands on the floor,\n revealing that Albert's teeth have a firm grasp on Jerry's", "servers, looks back at the screen\n pensively, and resumes typing.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n P.S. Please destroy this note\n immediately.\n\n ON A MAILBOX\n As Nick deposits his letter.\n\n EXT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - EVENING\n\n Nick wanders up the drive. WE FOLLOW him into the house.\n\n INT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - CONT" ], [ " NICK\n Oh.\n Paul begins rolling a joint.\n\n PAUL\n Nice fire in Berkeley.\n\n \n\n 64.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Did Sheeni tell you that was me?\n\n PAUL\n She didn't have to.\n\n NICK\n Why? Was I an arsonist in a\n previous life?\n\n PAUL\n No. But Sheeni was.\n\n NICK", "UNDERS, mid-twenties, blows cool jazz on a\n beat-up trumpet.\n\n PAUL\n Hey, Nick. I'm Paul, Sheeni's\n brother.\n Nick comes up the path to meet him.\n\n NICK\n Hello, Paul. How did you know my\n name?\n\n PAUL\n We've met.\n\n NICK\n No we haven't.\n\n PAUL\n In a previous life.\n\n", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", ", it was enough to get him\n to give Trent a black eye.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I just don't get it. This\n guy has cock-blocked at every turn\n and you're taking his side?!?\n\n SHEENI\n Cock-blocked?\n\n (SIGHS)\n We'll have to resume this another\n time, Nick. It's been an\n emotionally exhausting weekend. My\n parents are in an uproar over Paul.\n He's", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "even though I am no longer a\n believer I always found the\n services wonderfully aerobic.\n\n NICK\n You could say the same thing about\n sex.\n Sheeni stops. She looks at Nick intently.\n\n \n\n 17.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Nick, are you going to turn out\n like all the other young men and\n have nothing on your mind except\n carnal pleasures?\n\n NICK", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "Sheeni waving in the road, Albert at her feet.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Besides, what jury would convict a\n teenager who acted out of love?\n And even if I do get to spend the\n next few months of my youth getting\n Dwayned by the inmates of the\n California Juvenile Correctional\n System, I did get my thirty two\n minutes of lovemaking with one of\n the most outstanding girls of this\n or any other epoch.\n", "you that\n I have a boyfriend.\n Nick becomes sickeningly pale.\n\n NICK\n What's his name?\n\n SHEENI\n Trent Preston.\n\n NICK\n What's he like?\n\n SHEENI\n Seventeen years of age, six-two,\n fluent in French, plays the piano,\n a champion swimmer, and writes\n Futurist Percussive poetry.\n They stop at the gate to", " NICK\n What do you mean?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Nick, we are young, yes? Is the\n world not our oyster? Beaucoup des\n filles. Do you not want to know\n what it is like to make love to\n another girl?\n\n NICK\n I do, but... We've come so far.\n What about Sheeni?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Forget Sheeni. Yes, she will always\n", " parental bondage.\n\n NICK\n Likewise.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your mother seems very nice,\n though your father I think might be\n rather dim.\n\n NICK\n Jerry and I share no blood links of\n any kind.\n As they pass the meeting hall there comes a surge of HYMNS in\n chorus.\n\n NICK\n Sounds rather zealous.\n\n SHEENI\n Yes,", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", "unges\n into BLACKNESS once again. Nick listens as Sheeni climbs back\n into bed as if nothing happened.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick?\n\n NICK\n Was that the matron?\n\n SHEENI\n No.\n Beat.\n\n NICK\n Then who was it?\n\n SHEENI\n It was Trent.\n Beat.\n\n NICK" ], [ "the front door of the dormitory, the\n matron, flanked by SCHOOL SECURITY GUARDS, hot on their\n heels. The girls in the dorm appear on the balcony in droves,\n cheering the boys' escape.\n Vijay's pants fall to his ankles, tripping him up.\n Nick and Lefty grab Vijay by the arms and pull him up again\n as if he were a wounded war buddy in a retreat from the\n Vietnamese Army.\n They reach the Beamer at the", ".)\n What about Vijay Joshi?\n Nick stands stiff as a board. The officer peers around him at\n Dwayne sitting inside.\n\n DWAYNE\n I'm pretty sure he's Injun.\n The officer makes a note.\n\n POLICE OFFICER\n (to himself)\n Vijay Joshi. We'll look into it.\n Thank you, boys.\n Nick gives a weak smile and closes the door.\n\n NICK (V.", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", ". It's time\n to take action!\n THREE CUTS. The JINGLE as Nick removes his Dad's keys from\n the bureau. The trunk SLAMMING closed with the sleeping bags\n inside. The ROAR of the engine as Vijay's hand turns the key\n in the ignition.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - DAY\n As Vijay drives, Lefty holds up a road map in the back seat.\n Nick places a CD in the stere", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", " 72.\n\n \n\n LEFTY\n And then he'll probably fuck her in\n other ways. Did you know you're\n supposed to put your pinkie in a\n girl's bumhole, Vijay?\n\n NICK\n Will you shut up and help me out?\n\n LEFTY\n Sorry, Nick. What should we do?\n\n NICK\n I suggest we steal my father's BMW\n and take", "ajamas. That's nasty.\n\n INT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n Nick dials on the phone. Behind him, Dwayne eats breakfast,\n cheerfully kicking his feet back and forth under the chair.\n\n TAGGARTY (V.O.)\n Bonjour.\n\n NICK\n Taggarty? It's Nick.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - DAY\n\n Taggart", "Finally,\n we reach the center of their attention...\n Sheeni, Taggarty, and Heather standing together in their\n coats.\n\n SHEENI\n Nickie?\n Nick, Vijay, and Lefty are noticeably shorter than the older\n boys around them.\n\n NICK\n Hello, Sheeni.\n (to Taggarty and Heather)\n Hi, I'm Nick.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Oh. So you're Nick", "edge of the grounds. Nick gets\n in first. Lefty dives through the back window, legs kicking.\n Vijay slams the door just as the matron and her security team\n catches up to them. The authorities bang on the windows as\n Nick peels out.\n INDIAN POP blares from the car. They speed off into the\n night.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - NIGHT\n Lefty lets out a holler of joy.\n\n LEF", "the right... a\n little... RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!\n\n RIGHTTHERERIGHTTHERERIGHTTHERE!\n\n EXT. CEMETERY - DAY\n\n ...where we find Vijay glancing over at Taggarty as she\n smokes a cigarette.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Vijay would eventually manage to\n pin the car theft on me. But had\n lost the attention of Taggarty\n forever. Who by the way...", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "\n heard she was interested in some\n brilliant fellow in the Bay Area.\n\n LEFTY\n Hey, that's you, Nick.\n\n VIJAY\n I'm surprised. You are not at all\n what I imagined.\n Nick narrows his eyes.\n\n VIJAY\n So how is Sheeni?\n\n NICK\n I don't know. She sent me this\n letter. But it's in French.\n\n VIJAY\n", " But we have no money!\n\n VIJAY\n I have no shoes! I'll catch\n pneumonia and die a indeterminate\n proto-quasi-virgin!\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY 101 - RAINING - NIGHT\n\n A couple coins are inserted into a roadside pay phone. There\n is ringing on the other end.\n\n ESTELLE (V.O.)\n Hello?\n\n NICK\n (into phone", "up.\n\n NICK\n Hello?\n\n OPERATOR (V.O.)\n Will you accept a collect call from\n Sheeni Saunders?\n\n NICK\n Absolutely.\n Nick looks around, opens the door to the linen closet and\n darts inside.\n\n INT. CLOSET - CONTINUOUS\n\n BLACKNESS. Then Nick pulls the cord and the naked bulb kicks\n on.\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "two bags of\n groceries under his arms.\n\n NICK\n Lefty, have you seen Vijay, today?\n\n LEFTY\n Nick, haven't you heard? Vijay's\n been arrested.\n\n NICK\n Arrested?!?\n\n LEFTY\n For grand theft auto. They found\n his prints in your father's car.\n\n NICK\n That's terrible. Did he go quietly?\n\n ", "\n VIJAY\n No, apparently they convinced the\n matron it was all quite innocent.\n\n NICK\n Are you kidding? She had her\n flashlight trained on your Hindi\n boner!\n A beat. Lefty and Vijay seem taken aback by the outburst.\n\n VIJAY\n No need to be jealous, Nick.\n Nick stands and collects his lunch tray.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n If I'm to", " Shall I translate it for you?\n\n NICK\n You speak French?\n\n VIJAY\n I speak French, English, Hindi,\n Marathi, and Urdu.\n\n LEFTY\n That must come in handy.\n Nick hands over the letter and Vijay starts reading it\n silently. He chuckles as he reads and Nick squints his eyes\n at him in annoyance.\n Vijay picks up on it, clears his throat and reads aloud.\n", "VING) - DAY\n Nick hits the gas and the Lincoln suddenly surges forward,\n released from the great weight.\n Nick smiles. Behind him, through the rear window, the trailer\n can be seen receding into the distance. He glances into the\n mirror and spots the trailer plunging down the hill.\n Then he crashes into the Fiat parked in front of him at the\n intersection. The gas tank on the Fiat cracks, spurting fuel\n onto the pavement.\n\n EXT. BERKELEY -", "101 - RAINING - NIGHT\n\n The rain is coming down again. Nick shivers in his underwear.\n Vijay isn't in much more and Lefty's sheet is drenched.\n\n VIJAY\n What will we do?\n\n NICK\n Well, we can't stay in the car.\n Sooner or later Highway Patrol is\n going to come by and ask for our\n non-existent driver's license.\n\n LEFTY\n" ], [ "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "kicks in the stall and finds BERNICE LYNCH, 17, a thin\n platinum haired girl with six earrings per lobe. She hurls\n into the toilet again and turns around to find Nick.\n\n BERNICE\n Who are you?\n\n NICK\n I'm Sheeni's friend, Nick. Sorry to\n disturb you.\n\n BERNICE\n That's OK. It was something I ate.\n So wait, are you Sheeni's\n", "istible to\n women.\n PUSH IN on his reflection, as a moustache appears. Then a\n beret and black and white striped shirt. Then a cigarette\n holder and Thompson machine-gun. And FRANÇOIS is born.\n\n NICK\n Hello, François. I think you'll do\n nicely.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Oui, I am ze perfect match pour une\n Francophile for ze likes of Sheeni\n Saunders. I have ze calcul", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", ", Nick? I\n expressly asked you not to come.\n\n NICK\n To hell with that. What do I have\n to do to prove my love to you? My\n friends have gotten laid and I'm\n pretty sure neither one of them was\n beaten with a tree trunk, raped by\n a walrus, or had to contend with\n the likes of Trent Preston!\n\n SHEENI\n You were raped by a walrus?\n\n N", "close.\n\n SHEENI\n ...but you must wait in the car\n until we can sneak you in.\n Nick nods in understanding.\n\n INT. GIRLS' DORM - HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n An empty hall. The SNEAKY STRINGS of NIGHT ON BALD MOUNTAIN.\n Sheeni rounds the corner at the far end. As she and Heather\n sneak the boys down, the other OCCUPANTS of the floor giggle\n in French and dart", "you that\n I have a boyfriend.\n Nick becomes sickeningly pale.\n\n NICK\n What's his name?\n\n SHEENI\n Trent Preston.\n\n NICK\n What's he like?\n\n SHEENI\n Seventeen years of age, six-two,\n fluent in French, plays the piano,\n a champion swimmer, and writes\n Futurist Percussive poetry.\n They stop at the gate to", "Do you like it? I bought it in\n Santa Rosa last fall. I had hoped\n to wear it for Nick.\n\n NICK/CARLOTTA\n Oh, darling, I'm sure he would have\n found it most... Appealing.\n Sheeni crawls into bed. She cuddles close.\n\n \n\n 120.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n I like lying here with you,\n Carlotta.\n\n NICK/", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth", "girl sounds very uninhibited. I\n wonder if she's made it with a\n Hindu yet.\n\n LEFTY\n Heather sounds like a babe. You\n think if I grew a beard I'd pass\n for college age?\n\n NICK\n I've got to get to Sheeni as soon\n as possible. If I don't Trent\n Preston is going to mindfuck her\n into thinking she doesn't like me.\n\n \n\n", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "NICK/CARLOTTA\n Pardon?\n\n SHEENI\n Take off that silly wig and make\n love to me!\n Sheeni tugs off the wig and tosses it across the room.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni! You knew!\n\n SHEENI\n Of course, Nick. Did you really\n expect to fool your soul mate with\n such a disguise?\n Nick swoons, grasping her gauze-glazed nakedness.\n\n", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", " NICK\n What do you mean?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Nick, we are young, yes? Is the\n world not our oyster? Beaucoup des\n filles. Do you not want to know\n what it is like to make love to\n another girl?\n\n NICK\n I do, but... We've come so far.\n What about Sheeni?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n Forget Sheeni. Yes, she will always\n", "up.\n\n NICK\n Hello?\n\n OPERATOR (V.O.)\n Will you accept a collect call from\n Sheeni Saunders?\n\n NICK\n Absolutely.\n Nick looks around, opens the door to the linen closet and\n darts inside.\n\n INT. CLOSET - CONTINUOUS\n\n BLACKNESS. Then Nick pulls the cord and the naked bulb kicks\n on.\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)" ], [ ".\n\n NICK\n Jerry, where are you going? Just\n tell them you are in the right.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S HOME - CONTINUOUS\n\n They manage to grab Jerry by the legs and haul him down the\n stairs. Jerry loses his grasp step by step, crying with a\n sound not unlike E.T. when the flashlight hit him in the\n cornfield.\n The two big guys with bad haircuts hold Jerry off the ground\n while the earnstwhile Chevy", "\n\n NICK\n Eight hundred and thirty seven,\n actually.\n\n SAILOR #1\n Exactly. Have it by tomorrow or\n you'll be found in the trunk of\n your new used piece of shit at the\n bottom of the Bay.\n And with that they release him and Jerry crumples to the\n floor like an abandoned marionette.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER\n\n The three of them watch the", "owner goes through his pockets.\n\n \n\n 11.\n\n \n\n SAILOR #1\n Sixty-three lousy dollars.\n\n JERRY\n That's my life savings!\n One of the sailors pokes Jerry in the gut hard and he\n whimpers.\n\n ESTELLE\n Don't hurt him! Nick, call 911!\n\n SAILOR #1\n Touch that phone, kid, and you", "little shit, get down\n here!\n Jerry hollers from the kitchen where Estelle gapes out the\n window. Nick calmly joins them from upstairs.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, do you know anything about\n this?\n She points out the window and they all take in the Chevy and\n the sailors' oh-so-subtle note on the hood.\n\n NICK\n Oh, yeah. Those sailors came by.\n They want their money back. I guess\n ", "fleet pile into a Navy van that\n reads FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY. The moment they pull out, Jerry\n dusts himself off and puts on a pretense of being unfazed.\n\n JERRY\n Wow, those guys are even dumber\n than I thought. They actually think\n I'm stupid enough to let them\n muscle me into paying.\n\n \n\n 12.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry, what are you talking about?\n We", "need to call the police!\n\n JERRY\n I'm not some tattle-tale like your\n son.\n Nick rolls his eyes.\n\n ESTELLE\n Then for God's sake, Jerry, just\n sell the Lincoln and pay them!\n\n JERRY\n Can't. It's in The Code.\n\n ESTELLE\n What code? The vehicular code?\n\n JERRY\n Code of the streets, Babe", "\n\n JERRY\n You see that, Babe. They caved.\n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Jerry backs the RV into the drive as Nick helps his mother\n with her belongings and they enter the house. The RV scrapes\n its way through a few overhanging tree branches before Jerry\n decides it's parked.\n There comes a woman's scream from inside the house.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS", "\n sack. The dog shakes the scrotum in his jaws.\n\n JERRY\n Damn it! The dog!\n He tries to swipe Albert with his beer bottle, but the dog\n retreats into the house, leaving Jerry rolling around on the\n floor.\n Joanie and Nick exchange a smile. The phone rings. Estelle\n gets up to answer it.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, put the dog in the basement.\n\n INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT\n\n Nick", "along with it, seeing\n as I'm not rooting for him anyway.\n As they pull out, Jerry tosses his beer bottle at the garbage\n can at the end of the drive and it once again misses and\n shatters on the street behind them.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY\n\n The Lincoln makes it's way upstate, and dips into the mist\n covered hills of Ukiah.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n ", "SAILOR #1\n So he owes us nine hundred dollars.\n\n NICK\n Well, I think he used that nine\n hundred dollars to buy his Lincoln.\n He's giving my mom a joyride in it\n now. But he'll be back this\n afternoon, so I would come back\n then. He's pretty stubborn. You\n might have to beat it out of him.\n\n SAILOR #1\n That can be arranged. In the\n ", "Jerry pushes out and disappears into the back. Nick watches\n him with loathing. Estelle smiles apologetically.\n\n NICK\n Mom? Do you really like Jerry?\n Her smile fades.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, how many men do you think\n there are who'd be interested in a\n forty-one year old woman with two\n brats, no money, and stretch marks?", ".\n\n INT. PUBLIC REST ROOM - DAY\n\n An austere cement shed with three dripping shower heads and\n no privacy walls. Nick lathers up under the spray. Jerry\n appears in the foreground and removes his robe. He goes to\n the shower head next to Nick and turns it on.\n Nick reacts to Jerry and hastily tries to resume rinsing\n himself off. Jerry gurgles water and spits. He starts\n warbling rock lyrics.\n\n EXT. MY G", "\n\n 37.\n\n \n\n JERRY\n Hey, Nick. Want to learn how a car\n is put together?\n\n NICK\n No, thanks. Auto mechanics doesn't\n interest me.\n\n JERRY\n See, Estelle, I told you the kid\n was queer-eeAAAAHHHHH!\n Jerry lurches backward in the chair and lands on the floor,\n revealing that Albert's teeth have a firm grasp on Jerry's", "ERS DO IT IN\n OVERDRIVE shirt and boxers. His gut hangs over the elastic,\n but he is completely devoid of an ass.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Mom's boyfriend, Jerry is a long\n distance trucker, though his\n ultimate ambition is to be on state\n disability.\n Jerry absently smacks Estelle's butt. Waddles over to the\n breakfast table. He snatches the Funnies from the paper in\n Nick's hands.\n", "\n ESTELLE\n You're leaving? What happens when\n the sailor comes back for his nine-\n hundred dollars?\n\n JERRY\n Just tell him he bought the car\n with my standard guarantee. Thirty\n days or thirty feet. Whichever\n comes first. I'm in the right.\n And on cue comes the ring of the doorbell and the\n simultaneous pounding of angry Navy fists on the back door.\n They peer out the window and find the", "\n around her.\n\n JERRY\n C'mon Estelle. It's real cute on\n the inside.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Substitute cluttered for cute. The three of them are crammed\n around a dining surface as accommodating as an airplane tray\n table. 3-D religious art hangs on the wall above them.\n\n JERRY\n I say the kid does the dishes and\n we retire to the master bedroom.\n ", "Estelle\n is washing dishes when she spies something out the window.\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry? Where did that car come\n from?\n Jerry looks over his shoulder and they all take a moment to\n appreciate the slab-sided Lincoln in the drive.\n\n JERRY\n It's a '62 Lincoln convertible.\n Like the one Kennedy was shot in.\n\n NICK\n Except his was black and yours is\n white. And dirty.\n\n J", "They've pulled to a stop. Estelle stares in horror.\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry...? You said it was a cabin.\n In the back, Nick removes his sunglasses to regard the long,\n green, turd of a trailer. Some concrete dwarves in the grass.\n A dusty canvas awning over a small cement patio. A decrepit\n picket fence with a sign that reads: MY GREEN HAVEN.\n Estelle looks as if she's about to cry. Jerry puts his arm", "Albert chews on Jerry's sock under the table.\n\n JERRY\n Can someone do something about the\n mutt?\n The family dines over take-out fried chicken. Jerry kicks\n Albert and the puppy goes tumbling across the floor.\n\n ESTELLE\n I don't know, Jerry. Can someone do\n something about the monstrosity\n dripping oil in my living room?\n\n JOANIE\n Yeah, I noticed that. What's the", "disappointed\n before opening the door herself.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I'm starting to think her\n boyfriends are like U.S.\n Presidents.\n As Jerry pulls out, he tosses his beer bottle in the\n direction of the trash can at the end of the drive.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Just when you think they can't get\n any worse...\n He misses and the bottle shatters on the pavement, but Jerry\n drives off" ], [ "'s\n ogre of a father who answers the door and stares at Nick\n sternly.\n\n NICK\n Uhm, hello. Is Sheeni available?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n She most certainly is not. As a\n matter of fact, we've banned you\n from her life, Nick Twisp.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Excuse me?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n ", ")\n Well... YEAH!\n A beat as Nick's open admissions makes her consider his\n point. She sighs and shakes her head.\n\n SHEENI\n How is my dog?\n\n NICK\n Excellent. He should be coming out\n of the oven right about now.\n She tosses the book at him, but he dodges it successfully.\n\n SHEENI\n I hate you, Nickie!\n She stands up and tries to slap him.", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "We can\n visit each other when I get a\n drivers license.\n\n SHEENI\n I hope that's true, but.. It's not\n that. It's...\n\n NICK\n What?\n\n SHEENI\n It's my parents. They're... I fear\n they will never allow me to keep\n Albert.\n\n NICK\n Oh.\n Nick tries to hide his hurt. Picks up the paper with\n ", "squirming\n\n PUPPIES.\n She brings one of them over.\n\n SHEENI\n Look, Nick!\n She shows him the ugly little pug. Short droopy ears, a tiny,\n batlike face.\n\n NICK\n Great.\n\n SHEENI\n (to the geezer)\n How much?\n\n GEEZER\n Ten dollars.\n Sheeni turns to Nick pleadingly. Nick fishes through his\n wallet", "her lap.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I think I love you.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, your hormones certainly do.\n And oddly enough, my hormones like\n you too.\n\n \n\n 31.\n\n \n Sheeni releases Albert and the mutt paws at her legs. Her\n eyes well up with tears, a few theatrical sniffles.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? It's... It's okay.", " looks on with appropriate jealousy.\n\n SHEENI\n I'm going to name him Albert.\n (pronounced Al-bear)\n\n GEEZER\n That don't sound like any kind of\n name for a dog.\n\n SHEENI\n (scowling defensively)\n I'll have you know I've named him\n after the deceased French writer,\n Albert Camus. Author of L'Etranger\n and other", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "Albert chews on Jerry's sock under the table.\n\n JERRY\n Can someone do something about the\n mutt?\n The family dines over take-out fried chicken. Jerry kicks\n Albert and the puppy goes tumbling across the floor.\n\n ESTELLE\n I don't know, Jerry. Can someone do\n something about the monstrosity\n dripping oil in my living room?\n\n JOANIE\n Yeah, I noticed that. What's the", "Trent Preston informed us that not\n only were you moving here to pursue\n my daughter, but that you're not\n even mentally-handicapped, and thus\n molested my wife in the shower of\n sound mind and body.\n\n NICK\n That rat-fink-fuck!\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You watch your language. This is a\n Christian home. We're sending\n Sheeni to Les École des Arts and\n Literatures in Santa", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", " dark.\n\n \n\n 76.\n\n \n A beat of BLACKNESS. Then a light tap at the door.\n There is the sound of Sheeni getting out of bed. She cracks\n the door, letting in just enough light from the hall that a\n MALE SHADOW gets cast across the two boys on the floor.\n Nick squints and tries to hear what Sheeni and the male\n shadow are whispering to each other.\n After a beat, Sheeni closes the door and the room pl", " have to be the only dad on the\n scene.\n (matter of fact)\n Trent would have to go.\n\n SHEENI\n That's asking a lot. Trent worships\n the ground I walk on.\n\n NICK\n It's your choice. Life with me and\n the dog you love. Or a pet-free\n existence with a shallow,\n egotistical poet.\n\n \n\n 32.\n\n", "DES ARTS ET LITTÉRATURE - HALLWAY - DAY\n\n Sheeni chats up a gathering of HANDSOME BOYS in the hall.\n They regard her lustfully.\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n ...English cannot be spoken on\n campus even if you are hemorrhaging\n from an accidental limb amputation.\n\n INT. GYMNASIUM - DAY\n\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I have", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "anks Nick's sunglasses off\n and tosses them over her shoulder into the lake.\n\n EXT. GEEZER'S MANOR - DAY\n\n Estelle, Jerry, Nick, and a toothless old GEEZER whose gut\n rivals Jerry's, all stare at a rusty RV that looks like it\n might not make the trip back.\n In the background, Sheeni pets a goat in the dusty yard.\n\n \n\n 29.\n\n \n\n J", "from door to door in near-undress.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - NIGHT\n\n A cement cubicle just big enough for a bunk bed, two small\n desks, an army surplus dresser, and a stuffed armchair.\n Sheeni pulls a nightgown from the dresser.\n\n HEATHER\n Lefty, should maybe sleep in my\n room. It's pretty crowded in here.\n\n LEFTY\n Your roommate won't mind?", "Sheeni sprawled on the bed\n with a book.\n\n NICK\n Dinner is almost ready, My Love.\n\n SHEENI\n I do not intend to be party to my\n brother's absurdities. He has\n allowed you in and drugged my\n parents.\n\n NICK\n I think they are deriving some good\n from the experience.\n Sheeni finally looks up from her book.\n\n SHEENI\n What are you doing here" ], [ " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "Sheeni sprawled on the bed\n with a book.\n\n NICK\n Dinner is almost ready, My Love.\n\n SHEENI\n I do not intend to be party to my\n brother's absurdities. He has\n allowed you in and drugged my\n parents.\n\n NICK\n I think they are deriving some good\n from the experience.\n Sheeni finally looks up from her book.\n\n SHEENI\n What are you doing here", "anks Nick's sunglasses off\n and tosses them over her shoulder into the lake.\n\n EXT. GEEZER'S MANOR - DAY\n\n Estelle, Jerry, Nick, and a toothless old GEEZER whose gut\n rivals Jerry's, all stare at a rusty RV that looks like it\n might not make the trip back.\n In the background, Sheeni pets a goat in the dusty yard.\n\n \n\n 29.\n\n \n\n J", "?\n\n SHEENI\n I told you, darling. Trent harbors\n you no ill will. I will have him\n call your father up pretending to\n be a head hunter.\n\n NICK\n Very well, but I don't see how I am\n to live with him. My mother values\n my indentured servitude.\n\n SHEENI\n You must influence her to send you\n away. I feel this will require\n being", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "inside. Lacey and I need a nap.\n C'mon, Sugar Puss.\n Nick watches longingly as George leads Lacey into the home.\n As he places his hand on Lacey's ass, he looks back over his\n shoulder and throws a smug look in Nick's direction.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n What a competitive asshole.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick reaches the door and gently knocks. But it's Sheeni", "the gate. She turns around to face him.\n\n NICK\n When can I see you again?\n\n SHEENI\n Get up early tomorrow and you can\n shower with me in the ladies room.\n Five minutes to six. If you dare.\n Nick grins with excitement.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Nick dines at the tray table with Jerry and Estelle.\n\n ESTELLE\n So what's this Sheeni girl like?\n\n", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", ". CAFETERIA - DAY\n\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n You must introduce one of these\n into her breakfast beverage each\n day.\n Bernice sits next to Sheeni, despite the fact she's being\n ignored. Bernice drops a pill into Sheeni's coffee\n nonchalantly.\n\n INT. CLASSROOM - DAY\n\n Sheeni watches the INSTRUCTOR.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n She may be intelligent, but she is", "ENI\n What?\n\n NICK\n What do you think?\n A beat. Sheeni looks pensive. It fades to amusement.\n\n SHEENI\n Do you have a condom?\n Nick lifts his eyebrows. Now we're getting somewhere!\n\n SHEENI\n It has to be in a safe place. A\n nice comfortable bed. With no\n threat of interruptions. And for\n relaxation and mood setting some\n good red wine,", "even though I am no longer a\n believer I always found the\n services wonderfully aerobic.\n\n NICK\n You could say the same thing about\n sex.\n Sheeni stops. She looks at Nick intently.\n\n \n\n 17.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Nick, are you going to turn out\n like all the other young men and\n have nothing on your mind except\n carnal pleasures?\n\n NICK", "LE\n Nick, honey, say goodbye to Sheeni.\n It's time to hit the road.\n Nick watches Sheeni kiss Albert. He looks less than enthused\n at the thought of sloppy-seconds. Finally Sheeni hands Nick\n the dog.\n Nick and Sheeni stand there an awkward beat. Sheeni leans in\n and gives him a peck on the cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n (whispering in his ear)\n Don't forget, darling. Red wine and", "ajamas. That's nasty.\n\n INT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n Nick dials on the phone. Behind him, Dwayne eats breakfast,\n cheerfully kicking his feet back and forth under the chair.\n\n TAGGARTY (V.O.)\n Bonjour.\n\n NICK\n Taggarty? It's Nick.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - DAY\n\n Taggart", " SHEENI\n You can read it if you'd like.\n\n \n\n 25.\n\n \n She hands it over. Nick squints at the writing.\n\n NICK\n It's in French.\n\n SHEENI\n A necessity for a child in a\n household with prying Christian\n parents.\n\n NICK\n What does it say?\n\n SHEENI\n Wouldn't you like to", " NICK\n Oh.\n Paul begins rolling a joint.\n\n PAUL\n Nice fire in Berkeley.\n\n \n\n 64.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Did Sheeni tell you that was me?\n\n PAUL\n She didn't have to.\n\n NICK\n Why? Was I an arsonist in a\n previous life?\n\n PAUL\n No. But Sheeni was.\n\n NICK", "Sheeni waving in the road, Albert at her feet.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Besides, what jury would convict a\n teenager who acted out of love?\n And even if I do get to spend the\n next few months of my youth getting\n Dwayned by the inmates of the\n California Juvenile Correctional\n System, I did get my thirty two\n minutes of lovemaking with one of\n the most outstanding girls of this\n or any other epoch.\n", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth" ], [ "along with it, seeing\n as I'm not rooting for him anyway.\n As they pull out, Jerry tosses his beer bottle at the garbage\n can at the end of the drive and it once again misses and\n shatters on the street behind them.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY\n\n The Lincoln makes it's way upstate, and dips into the mist\n covered hills of Ukiah.\n\n EXT. RESTLESS AXLES TRAILER PARK - DAY\n\n ", "\n\n JERRY\n You see that, Babe. They caved.\n\n EXT. ESTELLE'S HOME - DAY\n\n Jerry backs the RV into the drive as Nick helps his mother\n with her belongings and they enter the house. The RV scrapes\n its way through a few overhanging tree branches before Jerry\n decides it's parked.\n There comes a woman's scream from inside the house.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS", " Nick places two full cannisters of gasoline into the trunk of\n the Lincoln.\n Nick's behind the wheel, backing up the car.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Tow Jerry's trailer to a remote\n parking lot in Berkeley and burn it\n to the ground.\n The hitch ball grinds under the trailer socket.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Thus evicting myself from my\n mother's clutches and into the arms\n of My One", "cut our vacation short and\n return to Oakland.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick rolls over on the cot and looks up with the gaze of a\n manic insomniac.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 6 AM. Violent panic! I have to see\n Sheeni again!\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n The door opens to reveal Nick standing outside in shorts, an\n I'M SINGLE, LET", "LATER\n\n Jerry joins Nick and Estelle in the doorway. There in the\n living room, surrounded by all the furniture pushed neatly\n against the walls, is Jerry's camouflaged Chevy.\n\n NICK\n I guess they didn't cave after all.\n Jerry pops the hood and lets out a whistle.\n\n JERRY\n Boy, everything's complete. There's\n even water in the windshield\n washer.\n\n ESTELLE\n", ".\n\n NICK\n Jerry, where are you going? Just\n tell them you are in the right.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S HOME - CONTINUOUS\n\n They manage to grab Jerry by the legs and haul him down the\n stairs. Jerry loses his grasp step by step, crying with a\n sound not unlike E.T. when the flashlight hit him in the\n cornfield.\n The two big guys with bad haircuts hold Jerry off the ground\n while the earnstwhile Chevy", "ER (V.O.)\n Has he hit you, Nick?\n\n NICK\n Not lately. But he's missed several\n child support payments, and is not\n looking for work. So now I'm going\n to public school in Oakland.\n\n FEMALE CASEWORKER (V.O.)\n Not the Oakland schools!\n\n NICK\n Yes. And he's had an offer from a\n respectable publication in Ukiah.\n\n F", "\n sack. The dog shakes the scrotum in his jaws.\n\n JERRY\n Damn it! The dog!\n He tries to swipe Albert with his beer bottle, but the dog\n retreats into the house, leaving Jerry rolling around on the\n floor.\n Joanie and Nick exchange a smile. The phone rings. Estelle\n gets up to answer it.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, put the dog in the basement.\n\n INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT\n\n Nick", "and sees his friend.\n\n LEFTY\n Nick? What are you doing here?\n Everyone and their mother's mother\n is looking for you.\n\n NICK\n They have me soon enough. Where are\n you going?\n\n LEFTY\n Home. I'm done being dead, Nick.\n Heather and I are going back to\n Oakland for Christmas. You should\n have heard how glad my parents were\n that I didn't kill myself. They", ".\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 2 AM. I conclude the only way out\n is suicide. I begin to pen a\n poignant suicide note. Sheeni will\n see Trent for the shallow pedant he\n is and always treasure my memory.\n\n JERRY (O.S.)\n Turn off the damn light!\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Nick paces about back and forth in the yard.\n\n NICK (V.", ". Code of\n the streets.\n\n ESTELLE\n Then what are you planning to do?\n Jerry takes a seat at the kitchen table and adopts The\n Thinker pose. He strokes his chin as Nick and Estelle await\n his brilliant solution with breathless anticipation.\n\n I/E. LINCOLN - DAY\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n We are going to Ukiah for a last\n minute vacation.\n Jerry's got on a hat made from Coors beer", "disappointed\n before opening the door herself.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I'm starting to think her\n boyfriends are like U.S.\n Presidents.\n As Jerry pulls out, he tosses his beer bottle in the\n direction of the trash can at the end of the drive.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Just when you think they can't get\n any worse...\n He misses and the bottle shatters on the pavement, but Jerry\n drives off", "ESTELLE\n Goodbye, everyone! We're going on\n vacation!\n\n JERRY\n Let's blow!\n\n \n\n 13.\n\n \n She hops up front with Jerry. He fires up the Lincoln and the\n radio roars to life with HILLBILLY MUSIC.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I'm not sure how this is the\n solution to his problem. But I've\n decided to go", "owner goes through his pockets.\n\n \n\n 11.\n\n \n\n SAILOR #1\n Sixty-three lousy dollars.\n\n JERRY\n That's my life savings!\n One of the sailors pokes Jerry in the gut hard and he\n whimpers.\n\n ESTELLE\n Don't hurt him! Nick, call 911!\n\n SAILOR #1\n Touch that phone, kid, and you", "\n\n Nick sits at the table, considerably more clothed and sober.\n George works on a jug of zin.\n\n GEORGE\n We're calling that fruitcake\n display strike one. Two more\n strikes and it's back to Oakland.\n Nick nods. The front door opens and MRS. CRAMPTON enters with\n Safeway bags of her own. Dwayne follows close behind her.\n\n DWAYNE\n Hey, Nick!\n Albert barks and j", "Jerry pushes out and disappears into the back. Nick watches\n him with loathing. Estelle smiles apologetically.\n\n NICK\n Mom? Do you really like Jerry?\n Her smile fades.\n\n \n\n 14.\n\n \n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, how many men do you think\n there are who'd be interested in a\n forty-one year old woman with two\n brats, no money, and stretch marks?", "They've pulled to a stop. Estelle stares in horror.\n\n ESTELLE\n Jerry...? You said it was a cabin.\n In the back, Nick removes his sunglasses to regard the long,\n green, turd of a trailer. Some concrete dwarves in the grass.\n A dusty canvas awning over a small cement patio. A decrepit\n picket fence with a sign that reads: MY GREEN HAVEN.\n Estelle looks as if she's about to cry. Jerry puts his arm", "What\n happened to the Chevy-Nova?\n\n JERRY\n Sold it to a sailor on the Alameda\n Naval Air Base. A man should never\n own a car for more than three\n months, Estelle. That way he always\n gets the thrill of owning a new\n automobile!\n Jerry smiles with cretin pride. Nick looks to his mother and\n disturbingly enough, she seems turned on by his car-owner\n savvy.\n\n \n\n ", "cans. He's behind\n the wheel of his Lincoln convertible.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Jerry says we'll be staying in a\n cabin on Clear Lake that's owned by\n a friend of his.\n Estelle dumps in the cooking gear and closes the trunk. Her\n halter top looks like an advertisement for Droop City. Nick's\n in the back. Estelle waves at the neighbors like she's Miss\n Corn Dog of 1954.\n\n ", "\n\n NICK\n Eight hundred and thirty seven,\n actually.\n\n SAILOR #1\n Exactly. Have it by tomorrow or\n you'll be found in the trunk of\n your new used piece of shit at the\n bottom of the Bay.\n And with that they release him and Jerry crumples to the\n floor like an abandoned marionette.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER\n\n The three of them watch the" ], [ "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "?\n\n SHEENI\n I told you, darling. Trent harbors\n you no ill will. I will have him\n call your father up pretending to\n be a head hunter.\n\n NICK\n Very well, but I don't see how I am\n to live with him. My mother values\n my indentured servitude.\n\n SHEENI\n You must influence her to send you\n away. I feel this will require\n being", " SHEENI\n Of course, he was disconsolate, but\n we talked all day and he's come to\n see this as an opportunity for\n growth. Oh, and Nick, Trent wanted\n me to tell you that he bears you no\n ill will.\n\n NICK\n Nor I him. I wish him all the best.\n\n SHEENI\n His parents are sending him to a\n French speaking boarding school\n this year. He's sure", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "Trent Preston informed us that not\n only were you moving here to pursue\n my daughter, but that you're not\n even mentally-handicapped, and thus\n molested my wife in the shower of\n sound mind and body.\n\n NICK\n That rat-fink-fuck!\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You watch your language. This is a\n Christian home. We're sending\n Sheeni to Les École des Arts and\n Literatures in Santa", "I (O.S.)\n Oh, Father, do shut up.\n Sheeni descends the stairs. Jean cut-offs over a knockout\n yellow swimsuit that shows off her flowing nubility.\n Mr. Saunders grumbles. Sheeni grabs up a straw beach bag and\n pushes Nick out the door.\n\n SHEENI\n Let's go, Nick. Bye, Father.\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n Vaya con Dios!\n\n EXT. BEACH -", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", " SHEENI\n You can read it if you'd like.\n\n \n\n 25.\n\n \n She hands it over. Nick squints at the writing.\n\n NICK\n It's in French.\n\n SHEENI\n A necessity for a child in a\n household with prying Christian\n parents.\n\n NICK\n What does it say?\n\n SHEENI\n Wouldn't you like to", "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "'s\n ogre of a father who answers the door and stares at Nick\n sternly.\n\n NICK\n Uhm, hello. Is Sheeni available?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n She most certainly is not. As a\n matter of fact, we've banned you\n from her life, Nick Twisp.\n\n \n\n 60.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Excuse me?\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n ", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "from door to door in near-undress.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - NIGHT\n\n A cement cubicle just big enough for a bunk bed, two small\n desks, an army surplus dresser, and a stuffed armchair.\n Sheeni pulls a nightgown from the dresser.\n\n HEATHER\n Lefty, should maybe sleep in my\n room. It's pretty crowded in here.\n\n LEFTY\n Your roommate won't mind?", ", it was enough to get him\n to give Trent a black eye.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I just don't get it. This\n guy has cock-blocked at every turn\n and you're taking his side?!?\n\n SHEENI\n Cock-blocked?\n\n (SIGHS)\n We'll have to resume this another\n time, Nick. It's been an\n emotionally exhausting weekend. My\n parents are in an uproar over Paul.\n He's", "We can\n visit each other when I get a\n drivers license.\n\n SHEENI\n I hope that's true, but.. It's not\n that. It's...\n\n NICK\n What?\n\n SHEENI\n It's my parents. They're... I fear\n they will never allow me to keep\n Albert.\n\n NICK\n Oh.\n Nick tries to hide his hurt. Picks up the paper with\n ", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", " 70.\n\n \n\n INT. GIRL'S BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n ...a stimulating experience which I\n am now not so quick to change.\n Sheeni slips into a nightgown as other GIRLS walk around\n scantily clad behind her.\n\n SHEENI\n Perhaps you should consider\n learning French and enrolling. That\n said...\n\n INT. ÉCOLE", "the stage erupts with fireworks.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Nick sleeps with a grin on his face. He rouses at the touch\n of Sheeni's lips on his cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n My parents are at services. They\n won't be back for hours.\n\n NICK\n Shall we have breakfast, my love?\n\n SHEEN" ], [ ".)\n What about Vijay Joshi?\n Nick stands stiff as a board. The officer peers around him at\n Dwayne sitting inside.\n\n DWAYNE\n I'm pretty sure he's Injun.\n The officer makes a note.\n\n POLICE OFFICER\n (to himself)\n Vijay Joshi. We'll look into it.\n Thank you, boys.\n Nick gives a weak smile and closes the door.\n\n NICK (V.", "Finally,\n we reach the center of their attention...\n Sheeni, Taggarty, and Heather standing together in their\n coats.\n\n SHEENI\n Nickie?\n Nick, Vijay, and Lefty are noticeably shorter than the older\n boys around them.\n\n NICK\n Hello, Sheeni.\n (to Taggarty and Heather)\n Hi, I'm Nick.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Oh. So you're Nick", "\n heard she was interested in some\n brilliant fellow in the Bay Area.\n\n LEFTY\n Hey, that's you, Nick.\n\n VIJAY\n I'm surprised. You are not at all\n what I imagined.\n Nick narrows his eyes.\n\n VIJAY\n So how is Sheeni?\n\n NICK\n I don't know. She sent me this\n letter. But it's in French.\n\n VIJAY\n", "\n VIJAY\n No, apparently they convinced the\n matron it was all quite innocent.\n\n NICK\n Are you kidding? She had her\n flashlight trained on your Hindi\n boner!\n A beat. Lefty and Vijay seem taken aback by the outburst.\n\n VIJAY\n No need to be jealous, Nick.\n Nick stands and collects his lunch tray.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n If I'm to", " BIKINI-CLAD GIRLS gasp in horror.\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I guess we shall see.\n\n INT. CAFETERIA - DAY\n\n\n VIJAY\n\n (READING)\n All in all, I'm happy and look\n forward to further growth in this\n rich, intellectual environment.\n Vijay sets down the letter. Nick waits a beat, staring in\n disbelief.\n\n NICK", " Shall I translate it for you?\n\n NICK\n You speak French?\n\n VIJAY\n I speak French, English, Hindi,\n Marathi, and Urdu.\n\n LEFTY\n That must come in handy.\n Nick hands over the letter and Vijay starts reading it\n silently. He chuckles as he reads and Nick squints his eyes\n at him in annoyance.\n Vijay picks up on it, clears his throat and reads aloud.\n", ". Ukiah is a cultural\n wasteland compared to India. Though\n some of the girls are very\n attractive.\n\n NICK\n Do you have a girlfriend?\n\n VIJAY\n Not at the moment. But I am\n optimistic. How about you?\n\n \n\n 69.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Yes, but she transferred.\n\n VIJAY\n You don't mean Sheeni Saunders. I", "\n That's it? Nothing else about me?\n Vijay picks up the letter again.\n\n VIJAY\n Oh yes... Love to you and Albert.\n (setting down the letter)\n Who's Albert?\n\n NICK\n Albert is our dog. This is a\n disaster. What the hell does she\n mean Trent wants to mend the\n relationship?\n\n VIJAY\n I don't know, but this Taggarty\n ", ".\n\n HEATHER\n We've heard so much about you.\n\n NICK\n And this is Vijay. And this is\n Lefty. Lefty goes to USC.\n\n \n\n 74.\n\n \n\n LEFTY\n And I'm not gay.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick, I knew you'd come!\n Sheeni glances over at the disapproving MATRON. She leans in\n ", " 72.\n\n \n\n LEFTY\n And then he'll probably fuck her in\n other ways. Did you know you're\n supposed to put your pinkie in a\n girl's bumhole, Vijay?\n\n NICK\n Will you shut up and help me out?\n\n LEFTY\n Sorry, Nick. What should we do?\n\n NICK\n I suggest we steal my father's BMW\n and take", "you too.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n As François would remind me, I'm\n intelligent, healthy, virile, not\n violently ugly... On the whole I am\n splendidly equipped for this great\n adventure we call the human\n existence.\n The FBI agents shove Nick into the back of their black\n Saturn.\n\n INT. SATURN(MOVING) - DAY\n\n Nick watches out the back window as the car pulls away. A\n view of", "a trip to Santa Cruz.\n Vijay, you'll have to be our\n translator.\n\n VIJAY\n But what will we tell our parents?\n\n LEFTY\n You can tell your father you are\n staying at Nick's house for the\n weekend. And visa versa.\n\n NICK\n Good thinking.\n\n VIJAY\n But what if we are caught?\n\n NICK\n To hell with it, Vijay", ". It's time\n to take action!\n THREE CUTS. The JINGLE as Nick removes his Dad's keys from\n the bureau. The trunk SLAMMING closed with the sleeping bags\n inside. The ROAR of the engine as Vijay's hand turns the key\n in the ignition.\n\n I/E. BMW 325I (MOVING) - DAY\n As Vijay drives, Lefty holds up a road map in the back seat.\n Nick places a CD in the stere", "the right... a\n little... RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!\n\n RIGHTTHERERIGHTTHERERIGHTTHERE!\n\n EXT. CEMETERY - DAY\n\n ...where we find Vijay glancing over at Taggarty as she\n smokes a cigarette.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Vijay would eventually manage to\n pin the car theft on me. But had\n lost the attention of Taggarty\n forever. Who by the way...", "s\n letter. An Indian boy, VIJAY JOSHI, 16, makes his way to\n them.\n\n VIJAY\n May I sit at your table?\n\n LEFTY\n Sure. I'm Lefty and this is Nick.\n\n VIJAY\n I am Vijay Joshi.\n Vijay sits and shakes their hands.\n\n VIJAY\n I see you both have been rejected\n by the socially elite of our\n school", "the front door of the dormitory, the\n matron, flanked by SCHOOL SECURITY GUARDS, hot on their\n heels. The girls in the dorm appear on the balcony in droves,\n cheering the boys' escape.\n Vijay's pants fall to his ankles, tripping him up.\n Nick and Lefty grab Vijay by the arms and pull him up again\n as if he were a wounded war buddy in a retreat from the\n Vietnamese Army.\n They reach the Beamer at the", "ING of\n bed springs joins in.\n Another page is turned. Feverish THUMPING until a MALE VOICE\n lets out a quiet MOAN.\n The breathing gradually slows to normal and lets out a\n relieved sigh of finality.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n My name... is Nick.\n\n NICK TWISP, 16, stares up at the ceiling. He's glassy eyed\n from the exertion...\n\n INT. NICK'S RO", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "ajamas. That's nasty.\n\n INT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n Nick dials on the phone. Behind him, Dwayne eats breakfast,\n cheerfully kicking his feet back and forth under the chair.\n\n TAGGARTY (V.O.)\n Bonjour.\n\n NICK\n Taggarty? It's Nick.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - DAY\n\n Taggart", "his hands all\n along.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n François is right of course, but on\n the other hand, why be cruel? After\n all, Sheeni had managed to give me\n hope every step of the way. And if\n hope is what Sheeni would now need\n to go on, well then...\n\n NICK\n As always, you are right, my love.\n Sheeni beams. François smacks his forehead with hand.\n\n FRANÇO" ], [ " I'm confident they will learn to\n love me. After all, I'm practically\n family.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick, you must dismiss this\n Thanksgiving notion from your mind.\n I remain firm on this issue.\n Goodbye.\n CLICK. Nick regards the phone defensively. He puts it down\n and takes a seat at the table.\n He glares at Dwayne as they eat breakfast. There comes a\n knock at the front door.\n\n NICK", "'ll let you\n go. We'll have plenty of time to\n settle this tomorrow.\n\n \n\n 98.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Tomorrow?\n\n NICK\n Yes, Sheeni, Thanksgiving. I'll be\n coming for dinner, of course.\n\n SHEENI\n Don't even think it, Nick. You know\n my parents don't approve of you.\n\n NICK\n ", "\n Nick emerges from the shrubs and approaches the house.\n He rings the ornate Victorian doorbell. Paul answers in an\n apron.\n\n PAUL\n Hello, Nick. Right on time. Come\n in.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - NIGHT\n\n Lacey floats toward him and gives him a hug.\n\n NICK\n Happy Thanksgiving, Lacey.\n She spots the sad flowers in his hand.\n\n \n\n ", "\n\n Nick sits at the table, considerably more clothed and sober.\n George works on a jug of zin.\n\n GEORGE\n We're calling that fruitcake\n display strike one. Two more\n strikes and it's back to Oakland.\n Nick nods. The front door opens and MRS. CRAMPTON enters with\n Safeway bags of her own. Dwayne follows close behind her.\n\n DWAYNE\n Hey, Nick!\n Albert barks and j", "\n What a thoughtful invitation. I'd\n love to, Nick. Wait for me in the\n living room.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n A lot more space than My Green Haven. Dark paneling and\n somewhat more tasteful religious art.\n\n SHEENI\n Back in a moment.\n\n \n\n 18.\n\n \n Nick watches her bound up the stairs.\n He wanders into the musty living area. M", "He grabs her wrists and\n pulls her to him.\n\n NICK\n I hate you too.\n They share a long, intense kiss.\n They break away and she smiles in spite of herself.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - NIGHT\n\n The Saunders and extended family take their seats at the\n polished mahogany table crammed with turkey, yams, mashed\n potatoes, and cranberry sauce.\n They all lower their heads and Lacey leads them in prayer", "Sheeni sprawled on the bed\n with a book.\n\n NICK\n Dinner is almost ready, My Love.\n\n SHEENI\n I do not intend to be party to my\n brother's absurdities. He has\n allowed you in and drugged my\n parents.\n\n NICK\n I think they are deriving some good\n from the experience.\n Sheeni finally looks up from her book.\n\n SHEENI\n What are you doing here", "the events to\n LEFTY'S PARENTS. Lefty glances up at Nick and gives a pained\n expression.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - LATER\n\n Nick lays on his belly reading No Exit. He looks up when he\n hears the sound of footsteps in the hall. Shadows appear\n beneath the crack in the door.\n Estelle opens the door and looks down at him.\n\n ESTELLE\n Nick, I just want you to know that\n I'", "Here, he wants to talk\n to you.\n Nick takes the phone from her hands and she closes the door.\n\n NICK\n (into phone)\n Hello?\n\n INT. GEORGE TWISP'S HOME - NIGHT\n\n\n GEORGE\n So what's this I hear about you\n being gay?\n George sprawls on the couch, cradling the phone with one\n hand, and holding a beer on his stomach with the other. WE\n\n ", "oves down the mantel\n examining the trinkets. Stops to regard the reproduction of\n Massaccio's Expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden on the wall.\n He scrutinizes the image, his eyes falling to the privates of\n Adam and Eve.\n\n MR. SAUNDERS (O.S.)\n I understand you have invited my\n daughter to the beach.\n Nick spins around to see MR. SAUNDERS reclining in his\n armchair. He is an immense, florid-", "ONE\n Amen.\n\n \n\n 106.\n\n \n They begin eating. A helicopter passes by outside, search\n light briefly coming through the windows.\n Nick watches Mr. Saunders take a handful of mashed potatoes\n and apply it to his face like war paint.\n\n MRS. SAUNDERS\n Paul? Your father looks rather\n strange.\n\n PAUL\n Well, mother, he is sitting in his\n own bowel movement.\n\n ", " DWAYNE\n Say, Nick. You wanna sleep in bed\n with me? It'll be tons warmer.\n\n NICK\n No thank you, Dwayne.\n A knock at the door. Lacey enters.\n\n LACEY\n This came for you, Nick.\n Nick sits up in bed to receive the letter. As Lacey leaves,\n he tears through the wax seal and unfolds its contents.\n\n DWAYNE\n Is it a love letter, Nick?\n", "when Paul opens it in\n another display of clairvoyance.\n\n PAUL\n Welcome back, Nick. We had a\n feeling you were coming.\n\n INT. PAUL'S HIDEOUT ABOVE GARAGE - LATER\n\n Nick sits beside Paul and Lacey on the couch as they watch\n the infamous \"chicken scene\" in REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Paul and Lacey are kind enough to\n share some le", "cans. He's behind\n the wheel of his Lincoln convertible.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n Jerry says we'll be staying in a\n cabin on Clear Lake that's owned by\n a friend of his.\n Estelle dumps in the cooking gear and closes the trunk. Her\n halter top looks like an advertisement for Droop City. Nick's\n in the back. Estelle waves at the neighbors like she's Miss\n Corn Dog of 1954.\n\n ", "!\n She catches up to Nick at the top of the stairs and cracks\n him upside the head.\n\n \n\n 48.\n\n \n He loses his balance and goes tumbling down the staircase,\n letting out a moan that stutters as his head hits each step.\n He comes crashing into the foyer, landing on the slate.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - EVENING\n\n Nick watches out the window.\n Estelle can be seen animatedly describing", "\n will be invited to join Miss\n Satron's English Literature class.\n\n A view of the books and CDs on his shelf.\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I am a voracious reader and listen\n to Frank Sinatra. So needless to\n say, I am still a virgin.\n\n Follow the curser on the monitor as he types the words -\n\n STILL A VIRGIN.\n He pauses in thought, then continues.\n\n NICK (V.", "me. Then\n later come back and maybe Millie\n Filbert will boink you out of pity.\n\n LEFTY\n Hey, that's not a bad idea. Thanks\n a pantsful, Nick.\n A pair of headlights swing into the drive and Lefty ducks out\n of sight. The headlights turn out to belong to George Twisp's\n\n BMW.\n The driver's side window rolls down to reveal Nick's dad.\n Lacey leans over George's seat to wave", "to get along\n there. So how is my darling Albert?\n\n \n\n 39.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Well, though he's taken a disliking\n to Jerry.\n\n SHEENI\n And you, Nickie? How are you?\n\n NICK\n I regret, Love of My Life, my\n father has lost his job and I will\n now be forced to go to public\n school.\n\n SHE", "\n attended congregation in the meeting hall.\n WE TRACK across the trees as Nick makes his way down the\n path. He slows to observe the sun coming through the canopy\n overhead. He glances off the path and comes to a sudden stop.\n A grape arbor flanked by Corinthian columns set against the\n blue of Clear Lake. A chestnut haired SHEENI SAUNDERS stands\n facing the water, her head tilted down to read the book in\n her hands. The wind coming off the lake blows her dress just\n", "the gate. She turns around to face him.\n\n NICK\n When can I see you again?\n\n SHEENI\n Get up early tomorrow and you can\n shower with me in the ladies room.\n Five minutes to six. If you dare.\n Nick grins with excitement.\n\n INT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Nick dines at the tray table with Jerry and Estelle.\n\n ESTELLE\n So what's this Sheeni girl like?\n\n" ], [ "\n Did you say it was Trent?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes. He came to discuss our\n friendship. I told him now was not\n the time.\n\n NICK\n So where is Trent now?\n\n SHEENI\n I assume he went back to the boys'\n dorm. Now really, Nickie, you are\n keeping everyone awake with your\n inquiries.\n Though silence follows, we take a moment to allow Nick's mind\n ", ", it was enough to get him\n to give Trent a black eye.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni, I just don't get it. This\n guy has cock-blocked at every turn\n and you're taking his side?!?\n\n SHEENI\n Cock-blocked?\n\n (SIGHS)\n We'll have to resume this another\n time, Nick. It's been an\n emotionally exhausting weekend. My\n parents are in an uproar over Paul.\n He's", "Trent Preston informed us that not\n only were you moving here to pursue\n my daughter, but that you're not\n even mentally-handicapped, and thus\n molested my wife in the shower of\n sound mind and body.\n\n NICK\n That rat-fink-fuck!\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You watch your language. This is a\n Christian home. We're sending\n Sheeni to Les École des Arts and\n Literatures in Santa", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", " SHEENI\n Of course, he was disconsolate, but\n we talked all day and he's come to\n see this as an opportunity for\n growth. Oh, and Nick, Trent wanted\n me to tell you that he bears you no\n ill will.\n\n NICK\n Nor I him. I wish him all the best.\n\n SHEENI\n His parents are sending him to a\n French speaking boarding school\n this year. He's sure", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", "unges\n into BLACKNESS once again. Nick listens as Sheeni climbs back\n into bed as if nothing happened.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick?\n\n NICK\n Was that the matron?\n\n SHEENI\n No.\n Beat.\n\n NICK\n Then who was it?\n\n SHEENI\n It was Trent.\n Beat.\n\n NICK", " I'm confident they will learn to\n love me. After all, I'm practically\n family.\n\n SHEENI\n Nick, you must dismiss this\n Thanksgiving notion from your mind.\n I remain firm on this issue.\n Goodbye.\n CLICK. Nick regards the phone defensively. He puts it down\n and takes a seat at the table.\n He glares at Dwayne as they eat breakfast. There comes a\n knock at the front door.\n\n NICK", ", Nick? I\n expressly asked you not to come.\n\n NICK\n To hell with that. What do I have\n to do to prove my love to you? My\n friends have gotten laid and I'm\n pretty sure neither one of them was\n beaten with a tree trunk, raped by\n a walrus, or had to contend with\n the likes of Trent Preston!\n\n SHEENI\n You were raped by a walrus?\n\n N", "Trent can go to hell\n for all I care. Sheeni too.\n\n NICK\n You don't like Sheeni?\n\n \n\n 81.\n\n \n\n BERNICE\n Personally, I hate her guts. Well,\n pardon me, Nick. I feel like\n throwing up some more now.\n\n NICK\n You didn't happen to see Trent\n Preston did you?\n She waves him away as she b", "In fact,\n I'm not very happy with you.\n\n NICK\n Me? What did I do?\n\n SHEENI\n You know damn well, Nick. You've\n been spreading rumors about Trent.\n And he doesn't deserve it.\n\n NICK\n Doesn't deserve it!?! I'd have to\n claim he has genital warts to sink\n to his level.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, whatever you said to Ed\n Solomon", ", honey. Look at it this way, in\n a few months you'll be a free man\n and we can be together in Paris.\n Nick looks to François in disbelief. But the Frenchman just\n rolls his eyes.\n\n FRANÇOIS\n You might as well break it to her\n now, Nick.\n A long pensive beat as Nick contemplates telling her he may\n never see her again. But behind Sheeni's air of control, Nick\n finally sees the vulnerability he's had in", "thumping together.\n He turns his attention to the sleeping beauty on the bottom\n bunk. He moves toward her.\n She blinks, waking and smiles at the sight of him.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, darling.\n\n NICK\n Was Trent here?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick.\n Nick hangs his head.\n\n SHEENI\n But I sent him away again.\n ", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "?\n\n SHEENI\n I told you, darling. Trent harbors\n you no ill will. I will have him\n call your father up pretending to\n be a head hunter.\n\n NICK\n Very well, but I don't see how I am\n to live with him. My mother values\n my indentured servitude.\n\n SHEENI\n You must influence her to send you\n away. I feel this will require\n being", "girl sounds very uninhibited. I\n wonder if she's made it with a\n Hindu yet.\n\n LEFTY\n Heather sounds like a babe. You\n think if I grew a beard I'd pass\n for college age?\n\n NICK\n I've got to get to Sheeni as soon\n as possible. If I don't Trent\n Preston is going to mindfuck her\n into thinking she doesn't like me.\n\n \n\n", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "'ll let you\n go. We'll have plenty of time to\n settle this tomorrow.\n\n \n\n 98.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Tomorrow?\n\n NICK\n Yes, Sheeni, Thanksgiving. I'll be\n coming for dinner, of course.\n\n SHEENI\n Don't even think it, Nick. You know\n my parents don't approve of you.\n\n NICK\n ", "you that\n I have a boyfriend.\n Nick becomes sickeningly pale.\n\n NICK\n What's his name?\n\n SHEENI\n Trent Preston.\n\n NICK\n What's he like?\n\n SHEENI\n Seventeen years of age, six-two,\n fluent in French, plays the piano,\n a champion swimmer, and writes\n Futurist Percussive poetry.\n They stop at the gate to", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly" ], [ "\n TAGGERTY\n How is the star-crossed persistent\n lover?\n She greets him with a casually intimate kiss.\n\n \n\n 104.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Okay, I guess. Where's Sheeni?\n\n TAGGERTY\n Upstairs, Nick. She saw you coming\n and hid in her room.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n Nick knocks and enters to find", "y's at her desk. Her thick rimmed glasses almost make\n her look studious. WE INTERCUT.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Hey, Nick. I suppose you want to\n talk to Sheeni.\n\n NICK\n If you please.\n Taggarty crosses to the bunks, where Sheeni is curled up\n among the sheets as if in some Renaissance portrait.\n\n TAGGARTY\n It's your would-be-lover.\n She", "close.\n\n SHEENI\n ...but you must wait in the car\n until we can sneak you in.\n Nick nods in understanding.\n\n INT. GIRLS' DORM - HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n An empty hall. The SNEAKY STRINGS of NIGHT ON BALD MOUNTAIN.\n Sheeni rounds the corner at the far end. As she and Heather\n sneak the boys down, the other OCCUPANTS of the floor giggle\n in French and dart", ". Their noses\n dodge successfully and their lips meet.\n After a long moment, they break it off. Staring into each\n other's eyes. Sheeni jumps up.\n\n \n\n 26.\n\n \n\n SHEENI\n Okay, lover. Break's over. Let's\n go!\n Nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.\n\n EXT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Nick walks Sheeni to", "the shower building. As he nears, the sound\n of water running can be heard from the ladies' side.\n\n INT. PUBLIC REST ROOM (WOMEN'S SIDE) - DAY\n\n The women's side has real stalls and privacy doors. Nick\n spots the chamber at the end where Sheeni's naked form\n showers, obscured by tacky stained glass.\n He kicks off his slippers. Hangs his robe on a hook.\n He approaches the stall.\n Flashing super:", " He shakes off the last of it and zips up.\n\n EXT. BLUFF OVER CLEAR LAKE - LATER\n\n He emerges from the woods only to find Sheeni reading his\n journal. She looks up at his and smiles. The brazen sneak\n isn't even embarrassed.\n\n NICK\n That's my journal!\n\n SHEENI\n Don't get so upset Nick. Though\n your handwriting is egregious, you\n have a fairly", "the stage erupts with fireworks.\n\n \n\n 121.\n\n \n\n INT. SHEENI'S ROOM - MORNING\n\n Nick sleeps with a grin on his face. He rouses at the touch\n of Sheeni's lips on his cheek.\n\n SHEENI\n My parents are at services. They\n won't be back for hours.\n\n NICK\n Shall we have breakfast, my love?\n\n SHEEN", " dark.\n\n \n\n 76.\n\n \n A beat of BLACKNESS. Then a light tap at the door.\n There is the sound of Sheeni getting out of bed. She cracks\n the door, letting in just enough light from the hall that a\n MALE SHADOW gets cast across the two boys on the floor.\n Nick squints and tries to hear what Sheeni and the male\n shadow are whispering to each other.\n After a beat, Sheeni closes the door and the room pl", "footing\n on the slippery tile. He goes down, taking Mrs. Saunders with\n him. They wrangle in the mist as Nick tries to escape.\n\n MRS. SAUNDERS\n\n RAPE! RAAAAAPE!\n Suddenly the door opens. It's Sheeni in her robe. She reaches\n out and pulls Nick up.\n\n SHEENI\n Get out quick!\n Still wearing her robe, she dives into the spray to save her\n mother. Nick grabs his", "He\n hovers above her.\n\n SHEENI\n (softly chanting)\n Nickie's got a hard-on.\n Nick considers her expression.\n\n SHEENI\n You're still a virgin, I can tell.\n Maybe that's why I like you.\n A beat. She looks at him expectantly. Nick is at a loss.\n\n SHEENI\n Kiss me, you wienie.\n Nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth", "\n Well, she's safe. No organism could\n penetrate those walls.\n\n NICK\n You think the girls are in trouble?\n\n VIJAY\n They will likely notify their\n parents. Perhaps even expel them.\n\n NICK\n That's it! Expel them. Then Sheeni\n will have to come back to Ukiah.\n The car sputters. Nick's eyes go to the gas gauge.\n\n EXT. HIGHWAY", "kicks in the stall and finds BERNICE LYNCH, 17, a thin\n platinum haired girl with six earrings per lobe. She hurls\n into the toilet again and turns around to find Nick.\n\n BERNICE\n Who are you?\n\n NICK\n I'm Sheeni's friend, Nick. Sorry to\n disturb you.\n\n BERNICE\n That's OK. It was something I ate.\n So wait, are you Sheeni's\n", "\n What a thoughtful invitation. I'd\n love to, Nick. Wait for me in the\n living room.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n A lot more space than My Green Haven. Dark paneling and\n somewhat more tasteful religious art.\n\n SHEENI\n Back in a moment.\n\n \n\n 18.\n\n \n Nick watches her bound up the stairs.\n He wanders into the musty living area. M", "Nick stares into her eyes to discern her honesty, but he\n finds nothing but adoration.\n\n SHEENI\n Because I want you, darling. Not\n even Trent can match the\n industriousness and tenacity with\n which you have pursued me.\n\n \n\n 82.\n\n \n She smiles. Nick smiles too. She reaches out to pull him into\n her bed as...\n The door to the room slams open and they are suddenly backlit\n", "nightie.\n\n INT. GIRL'S BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n The two boys brush their pearlies over the grungy sink.\n\n VIJAY\n I am in a state of sexual frenzy.\n What is your plan?\n\n NICK\n We drape a blanket over the lower\n bunk for Sheeni and me. You tackle\n Taggarty on the top bunk. Here's a\n condom. I slipped two to Lefty,\n ", "\n Nick?\n\n NICK\n Sheeni? How are you?\n\n SHEENI (V.O.)\n I'm well, Nickie.\n\n NICK\n And how is Trent? Not too suicidal\n I hope.\n\n INT. SAUNDERS' MOBILE HOME - DAY\n\n Sheeni relaxes on a love seat, cradling the phone with her\n shoulder as she eats grapes from a bowl. WE INTERCUT.\n\n", "unges\n into BLACKNESS once again. Nick listens as Sheeni climbs back\n into bed as if nothing happened.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick?\n\n NICK\n Was that the matron?\n\n SHEENI\n No.\n Beat.\n\n NICK\n Then who was it?\n\n SHEENI\n It was Trent.\n Beat.\n\n NICK", "NICK\n Huh. Quite a hike just to end your\n life.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, there is a road. But I agree.\n Adolescents have a tendency toward\n the over-dramatic.\n Sheeni backs away. Nick stays, staring over the edge.\n\n \n\n 24.\n\n \n\n EXT. WOODS - DAY\n\n Nick's eyes roll back as he relieves himself against a tree.\n", "from door to door in near-undress.\n\n INT. SHEENI'S DORM ROOM - NIGHT\n\n A cement cubicle just big enough for a bunk bed, two small\n desks, an army surplus dresser, and a stuffed armchair.\n Sheeni pulls a nightgown from the dresser.\n\n HEATHER\n Lefty, should maybe sleep in my\n room. It's pretty crowded in here.\n\n LEFTY\n Your roommate won't mind?", "thumping together.\n He turns his attention to the sleeping beauty on the bottom\n bunk. He moves toward her.\n She blinks, waking and smiles at the sight of him.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, darling.\n\n NICK\n Was Trent here?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick.\n Nick hangs his head.\n\n SHEENI\n But I sent him away again.\n " ], [ "this is Nick.\n Trent swivels slowly around and they lock eyes.\n\n TRENT\n Nick, at last we meet.\n\n NICK\n Hello, Trent.\n\n TAGGARTY\n Have a seat, Trent.\n\n TRENT\n I'm sorry, Taggarty, I can't stay.\n I have bad news.\n\n SHEENI\n What is it?\n\n TRENT\n Bernice Lynch", ", Nick? I\n expressly asked you not to come.\n\n NICK\n To hell with that. What do I have\n to do to prove my love to you? My\n friends have gotten laid and I'm\n pretty sure neither one of them was\n beaten with a tree trunk, raped by\n a walrus, or had to contend with\n the likes of Trent Preston!\n\n SHEENI\n You were raped by a walrus?\n\n N", "thumping together.\n He turns his attention to the sleeping beauty on the bottom\n bunk. He moves toward her.\n She blinks, waking and smiles at the sight of him.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, darling.\n\n NICK\n Was Trent here?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick.\n Nick hangs his head.\n\n SHEENI\n But I sent him away again.\n ", "Trent can go to hell\n for all I care. Sheeni too.\n\n NICK\n You don't like Sheeni?\n\n \n\n 81.\n\n \n\n BERNICE\n Personally, I hate her guts. Well,\n pardon me, Nick. I feel like\n throwing up some more now.\n\n NICK\n You didn't happen to see Trent\n Preston did you?\n She waves him away as she b", "way here now.\n Nick places his napkin next to his plate and stands.\n\n NICK\n Well, I shall be going now. Please\n continue without me.\n\n TRENT\n Nick, I suggest you remain here and\n face the consequences like a man.\n Nick stops in front of Trent.\n\n \n\n 109.\n\n \n\n NICK\n Thank you for that unsolicited\n counsel, Trent. And please, do drop\n ", " by the harsh beam of the matron's flashlight.\n\n MATRON\n Q'est que c'est passer ici?!?\n Nick bolts upright, smacking his head against the top bunk.\n He lands on the floor, where he gets a view of... Trent\n standing behind the matron. The blinding light makes his\n features difficult to make out but his white teeth are\n definitely smiling diabolically.\n\n EXT. GIRLS' DORM - NIGHT\n\n The boys come out of", "\n Did you say it was Trent?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes. He came to discuss our\n friendship. I told him now was not\n the time.\n\n NICK\n So where is Trent now?\n\n SHEENI\n I assume he went back to the boys'\n dorm. Now really, Nickie, you are\n keeping everyone awake with your\n inquiries.\n Though silence follows, we take a moment to allow Nick's mind\n ", "Nick stares into her eyes to discern her honesty, but he\n finds nothing but adoration.\n\n SHEENI\n Because I want you, darling. Not\n even Trent can match the\n industriousness and tenacity with\n which you have pursued me.\n\n \n\n 82.\n\n \n She smiles. Nick smiles too. She reaches out to pull him into\n her bed as...\n The door to the room slams open and they are suddenly backlit\n", "!\n She catches up to Nick at the top of the stairs and cracks\n him upside the head.\n\n \n\n 48.\n\n \n He loses his balance and goes tumbling down the staircase,\n letting out a moan that stutters as his head hits each step.\n He comes crashing into the foyer, landing on the slate.\n\n INT. NICK'S ROOM - EVENING\n\n Nick watches out the window.\n Estelle can be seen animatedly describing", " \n Sheeni ponders this.\n\n SHEENI\n OK, Nick, I guess I don't have any\n choice. I'll break up with Trent.\n But if he kills himself it's on\n your conscience.\n\n NICK\n I accept full responsibility.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, good, that's settled.\n\n NICK\n Not quite, darling. I want one more\n thing.\n\n SHE", "to race in the dark. He stands and looks at the mirror above\n the dresser. François can be made out sitting by the window\n in the moonlight, stroking the Thompson.\n\n \n\n 77.\n\n \n\n FRANÇOIS\n Now is our chance.\n\n NICK\n Chance for what?\n\n FRANÇOIS\n To confront our nemesis. We must go\n to the boys' dorm and kill Trent\n where he sle", "\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n I don't scream much. I am making a\n painful sacrifice for The Woman Of\n My Dreams. My suffering possesses a\n beauty which elevates it above this\n sordid scene.\n With the final blow the tree limb cracks in half. Nick looks\n over his shoulder.\n\n NICK\n Are you through?\n Lance looks around the room. Picks up an umbrella and\n considers it in his hand. Nick hangs", "Heather answers in little more than a\n G-string and Nick seems to forget his mission just long\n enough to appreciate her body.\n\n HEATHER\n What's up, Nick?\n\n NICK\n Is Trent in there?\n\n HEATHER\n Not anymore.\n\n NICK\n What happened to Lefty?\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n I'm right here, Nick.\n Nick peers past Heather where he finds Lefty standing naked\n", "unges\n into BLACKNESS once again. Nick listens as Sheeni climbs back\n into bed as if nothing happened.\n\n NICK\n Sheeni?\n\n SHEENI\n Yes, Nick?\n\n NICK\n Was that the matron?\n\n SHEENI\n No.\n Beat.\n\n NICK\n Then who was it?\n\n SHEENI\n It was Trent.\n Beat.\n\n NICK", ".\n\n NICK (V.O.)\n 2 AM. I conclude the only way out\n is suicide. I begin to pen a\n poignant suicide note. Sheeni will\n see Trent for the shallow pedant he\n is and always treasure my memory.\n\n JERRY (O.S.)\n Turn off the damn light!\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - NIGHT\n\n Nick paces about back and forth in the yard.\n\n NICK (V.", "In fact,\n I'm not very happy with you.\n\n NICK\n Me? What did I do?\n\n SHEENI\n You know damn well, Nick. You've\n been spreading rumors about Trent.\n And he doesn't deserve it.\n\n NICK\n Doesn't deserve it!?! I'd have to\n claim he has genital warts to sink\n to his level.\n\n SHEENI\n Well, whatever you said to Ed\n Solomon", "Trent Preston informed us that not\n only were you moving here to pursue\n my daughter, but that you're not\n even mentally-handicapped, and thus\n molested my wife in the shower of\n sound mind and body.\n\n NICK\n That rat-fink-fuck!\n\n MR. SAUNDERS\n You watch your language. This is a\n Christian home. We're sending\n Sheeni to Les École des Arts and\n Literatures in Santa", " Nick, they're coming to arrest you!\n He slams down the phone.\n\n EXT. GEORGE'S MANUFACTURED HOME - DAY\n\n The window slides open and Nick comes crawling out, leaping\n to the ground. He takes off running through the woods.\n\n EXT. MY GREEN HAVEN - DAY\n\n Nick pounds on the door.\n\n LEFTY (O.S.)\n Nick?\n Nick turns to find Lefty coming up the path with", " boyfriend?\n\n NICK\n Uh, yeah.\n\n BERNICE\n My name's Bernice. Bernice Lynch.\n Not that you asked.\n\n NICK\n Nice to meet you Bernice. Actually,\n I think Trent Preston mentioned\n you. He said you were frumpy, but\n now that I've met you, I can see\n Trent is a lying bastard.\n\n BERNICE\n Thanks. And", ".\n\n NICK\n Jerry, where are you going? Just\n tell them you are in the right.\n\n INT. ESTELLE'S HOME - CONTINUOUS\n\n They manage to grab Jerry by the legs and haul him down the\n stairs. Jerry loses his grasp step by step, crying with a\n sound not unlike E.T. when the flashlight hit him in the\n cornfield.\n The two big guys with bad haircuts hold Jerry off the ground\n while the earnstwhile Chevy" ] ]

[ "What is Nick and Sheeni's plan?", "What did Nick do after an arguement with his mom and her new boyfriend?", "Where do Sheeni's parents send her after overhearing her and Nick?", "What does Nick tell Fergueson about his friend, Vijay?", "What did Nick ask Bernice to do to get Sheeni expelled?", "What does Nick's mom tell him at Thanksgiving?", "What does Nick do after he steals his father's car?", "What does Nick do to fool Sheeni's parents?", "How long did Nick spend in detention?", "What is Jerry's relationship to Estelle?", "What is Nick Twisp's relationship to Estelle?", "What type of culture is Sheeni Saunders interested in?", "What does Nick buy for Sheeni?", "What is Sheeni's dog's name?", "Who is Sheeni's dog named after?", "What does Albert tear up and destroy?", "What is Paul's relationship to Sheeni?", "Who does Nick call when Vijay's grandmother's car breaks down?", "What does Nick don to impersonate one of Sheeni's friends?", "Who does Jerry owe money to? ", "Why is Sheeni's dog banned from the house? ", "What does Sheeni promise to arrange for George?", "What happens to Jerry after returning to Oakland?", "Where do Sheeni's parents send her? ", "Who does Nick tell Mr. Ferguson Vijay is? ", "Who invites Nick to Thanksgiving dinner? ", "What does Trent tell Sheeni about on Thanksgiving?", "How does Nick get into Sheeni's room? ", "What does Nick do to Trent?" ]

[ [ "Sheeni was going to arrange for a job for Nick's dad while Nick got his mother to kick him out of the house.", "Nick will get kicked out of his mom's house so he can live with his dad and be with Sheeni." ], [ "He stole Jerry's car, crashed it into a restaurant, which started a fire.", "Crashes Jerry's car into a restaurant, which starts fire" ], [ "They send her off to a French boarding school.", "A French boarding school in Santa Cruz" ], [ "That he is an illegal immigrant that Nick is trying to free.", "illegal immigrant" ], [ "To put sleeping pills in Sheeni's drinks, so that she would fall asleep in class.", "Slip sedatives into Sheeni's drink" ], [ "That she broke up with Lance and that Lance wasn't going to cover for his crimes anymore.", "Lance left" ], [ "He took his clothes off and drove it into a shallow lake.", "He drove the car into a shallow lake." ], [ "He puts on a wig and a dress and pretends to be one of Sheeni's friends.", "Dresses up as one of Sheeni's friends. " ], [ "He was there for three months.", "three months" ], [ "Jerry is Estelle's boyfriend", "Husband" ], [ "Nick is Estelle's son", "He is Estelle's son." ], [ "French culture", "she is interested in French culture." ], [ "A dog", "A dog. " ], [ "Albert", "Albert. " ], [ "Albert Camus", "Albert Camus" ], [ "A Bible", "The family Bible." ], [ "Paul is Sheeni's brother", "He is Sheeni's older brother." ], [ "Mr. Ferguson", "Mr. Fegurson" ], [ "A wig and a dress", "wear a wig" ], [ "A group of sailors. ", "Sailors" ], [ "For tearing up the family Bible. ", "The dog tore up the family bible." ], [ "A job. ", "A job." ], [ "He dies from a heart attack. ", "Dies of a heart attack" ], [ "A French boarding school. ", "To a French boarding school in Santa Cruz." ], [ "An illegal immigrant. ", "illegal immigrant" ], [ "Paul", "Nick." ], [ "Paul's letters to Bernice. ", "Nick's letters to Bernice." ], [ "He impersonates one of her friends. ", "Dresses up as one of Sheeni's friends" ], [ "Beats him up. ", "Beat him up" ] ]

[ [ "></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis and Miss Giest walk\nout of her office toward where Cher and Dionne have split the scene)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</", "E>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Dionne meet up in\nthe hall)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>He gave me a C minus.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCK", "></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Both Cher and Dionne scream)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MURRAY</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "Mr. Hall sublimely happy.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE IX - SCHOOL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Here's the four-one-one on Mr. Hall. He'", ", we decided to show Tai the\nropes at Bronson Alcott High School.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>That is Alana's group over there.\nThey do the", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", ", while we were learning\nabout the Pismo Beach diaster, I decided I needed a complete make-over,\nexcept this time I'd make-over my soul. But what makes someone a better\nperson? And then I realised, all my friends were really good in different\nways. Like, Christian, he always wants things to be beautiful and interesting.\nOr Dionne and Murray, when they think no one is watching, are so considerate\nof each other. And poor Miss Giest, always trying to get us involved, no\nmatter how much we resist?</FONT></F", "=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh. Miss Stoeger? I would just\nlike to say that physical education in this school is a disgrace. I mean,\nstanding in line for forty minutes is hardly", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "er, Dionne and Tai\nrun off)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><B>JOSH</B> </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(to\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Look, we got a pool going", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey Cher.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"clue-s2p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless", "></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Meanwhile, back at school, everyone\nwas talking about Tai's &quot;brush with death&quot; at the mall.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n", ".O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and her boyfriend, Murray are in this dramatic\nrelationship. I think they've seen that Ike and Tina Turner movie just\ntoo many times. Now I have to say to her...</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "ZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher's got attitude about high\nschool boys.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", "wood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p2.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Cher, he's getting her digits. Look at Giest,\nshe is so cute.</FONT></TT></", "ONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry to make you leave, Dionne\nis bucking for best dramatic actress at a Val party.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SI", "1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(To Dionne)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hmm?</FONT></TT><imr smc" ], [ ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>When I saw the sparks between\nTai and Travis, I knew Josh was out of the picture.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "0\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Travis, Tai would have wanted\nyou to enjoy the party.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER </FONT></FONT></TT></B><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/speaker.gif\" HEIGHT=19 WIDTH=20 ALIGN", "ONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai hug. Travis is\nannounced on the P.A.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>PA</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Next up, number", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", "></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis and Miss Giest walk\nout of her office toward where Cher and Dionne have split the scene)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TRAVIS</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher picks up a Bong", "Tai hands joint to Cher and\nblows smoke in her face.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai runs over and hugs Cher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, you don'", "and butts in to stop it)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai, I need you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Chill?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai start walking\naway)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT", "=+1>Yeah, thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai spots Elton dancing with\nAmber.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God, Cher, look. He's\ngoing with Amber?!</FONT", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, listen to me. Me and Tai,\nI mean, we don't make any sense, right? Me and you, well, makes sense.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton tries for Cher, yet again.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<", "<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai, I thought we moved on from\nthere.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Cher! Is it true some gang\nmembers, like tried to shoot Tai in the mall?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>" ], [ "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>He does like to shop, Cher,\nand the boy can dress.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Well, obviously this boy is\na complete moron. You are the most beautiful girl in Beverly Hills. And\nto tell you the truth, I'm not sure I want you with a stupid fella like\nthat.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it, you're making me blush.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Phone rings. Cher answers)</FONT></F", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God. Do you see how he\nis falling in love with me?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hello?! Don't you mean Tai?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT", "TT><FONT SIZE=+1>OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The scene moves to the poolside)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless/loser.w", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey Cher.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"clue-s2p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", "TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s38p1.jpg\" HSPACE=10 HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=200 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher goes to hit his shoulder,\nbut he catches her with a kiss. </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8" ], [ "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "t know,\nI can't, I can't pinpoint the spirituality out for you, you know, if you've\nnever experienced anything...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXV - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT", "80FF\">(to Mel)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>You're not letting her go out like that, are ya?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here.</F", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, can I talk to you a minute?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I felt better already.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Back at Cher's house)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(They walk out)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<UL>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>It's so killer!</FONT></TT></P>\n</UL>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "of my own.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXX - THE MALL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs off)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL </FONT></TT></B><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/speaker.gif\" HEIGHT=19 WIDTH=20 ALIGN=ABSBOTTOM></P>", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hand it over.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher squeals/moans)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><", "FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye. </FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Looks like we're going to", "<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Get over it, OK. He's a miserable little man who wants\nto make everyone else miserable too.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee, that's it! We've got to figure out a way to make\n", "m trying to make you\nas white as I can, Cher. Look, you're all flushed. You have to calm down.\nOK? Calm.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+" ], [ "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Chill?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai start walking\naway)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "Tai hands joint to Cher and\nblows smoke in her face.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, listen to me. Me and Tai,\nI mean, we don't make any sense, right? Me and you, well, makes sense.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton tries for Cher, yet again.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<", "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai runs over and hugs Cher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, you don'", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>When I saw the sparks between\nTai and Travis, I knew Josh was out of the picture.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B", "CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Tai falls down the stairs on\nher butt!</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"> </FONT><", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hello?! Don't you mean Tai?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "ONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai hug. Travis is\nannounced on the P.A.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>PA</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Next up, number", "<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai, I thought we moved on from\nthere.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Cher! Is it true some gang\nmembers, like tried to shoot Tai in the mall?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", "=+1>Yeah, thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai spots Elton dancing with\nAmber.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God, Cher, look. He's\ngoing with Amber?!</FONT", "></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Both Cher and Dionne scream)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MURRAY</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Meanwhile, back at school, everyone\nwas talking about Tai's &quot;brush with death&quot; at the mall.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Elton's over there.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The girls start dancing. As\nTai is trying to impress Elton she is hit in the head by a flying Clog)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", ".O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and her boyfriend, Murray are in this dramatic\nrelationship. I think they've seen that Ike and Tina Turner movie just\ntoo many times. Now I have to say to her...</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE" ], [ ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>When I saw the sparks between\nTai and Travis, I knew Josh was out of the picture.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B", "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai runs over and hugs Cher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, you don'", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, listen to me. Me and Tai,\nI mean, we don't make any sense, right? Me and you, well, makes sense.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton tries for Cher, yet again.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "=+1>Yeah, thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai spots Elton dancing with\nAmber.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God, Cher, look. He's\ngoing with Amber?!</FONT", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hello?! Don't you mean Tai?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT", "Tai hands joint to Cher and\nblows smoke in her face.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "ONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai hug. Travis is\nannounced on the P.A.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>PA</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Next up, number", "1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I had to give myself snaps for\nall the good deeds I was doing. It was so great. Love was everywhere. Even\nthough I was alone, I was really happy for Tai. It's like that book I read\nin ninth grade that said, &quot;'tis a far, far better thing doing stuff\nfor other", "></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Cher! Is it true some gang\nmembers, like tried to shoot Tai in the mall?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", "+1>(Elton carries Tai into the\nkitchen and places her on the counter)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n", "></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Meanwhile, back at school, everyone\nwas talking about Tai's &quot;brush with death&quot; at the mall.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Chill?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai start walking\naway)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "er, Dionne and Tai\nrun off)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><B>JOSH</B> </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(to\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Look, we got a pool going", "<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai, I thought we moved on from\nthere.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Tai falls down the stairs on\nher butt!</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"> </FONT><" ], [ "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0", ">\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee, why do you put up with it? You could do so much\nbetter.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright, sh, sh. Here he comes.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "ONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cliff's notes.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s9p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=221 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You know what? Ok,", ".O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and her boyfriend, Murray are in this dramatic\nrelationship. I think they've seen that Ike and Tina Turner movie just\ntoo many times. Now I have to say to her...</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE", "ONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Tell me about it. This weekend he called me up and\nhe's all &quot;Where were you today?&quot; and I'm like &quot;I'm at my\nGrandmother's house&quot;...</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V", ">(NOTHING!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXIX - MURRAY'S CAR</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I'll call ya, OK?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQU", "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's see. Who's available?\nThere's Bronson... I got it! Elton! He just broke up with Collette.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT", "></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Dionne drags a dancing girl\naway from Murray.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "><B>CHER</B> <FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(on phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Wass", "wood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p2.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Cher, he's getting her digits. Look at Giest,\nshe is so cute.</FONT></TT></", "'s Dionne, it might...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P", "QUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Well, yeah.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", ", and the fact\nthat you hang with Dee and I, well...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Speaks very highly of you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P", "/dione.wav\"><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/speaker.gif\" BORDER=0 HEIGHT=19 WIDTH=20 ALIGN=ABSBOTTOM></A></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and I were both named after great singers of\nthe past who now do infomercials.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves outside)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>C'mon, Dee.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n", "told you I want it in the\nmorning. No!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVIII - MURRAY'S CAR</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></", "ONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MURRAY</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOT", "FONT SIZE=+1>Uh, OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Miss Giest reads the note left\nby the girls and her face brightens)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE" ], [ ", we decided to show Tai the\nropes at Bronson Alcott High School.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>That is Alana's group over there.\nThey do the", "=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh. Miss Stoeger? I would just\nlike to say that physical education in this school is a disgrace. I mean,\nstanding in line for forty minutes is hardly", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "ONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, that'd be reason enough for me.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XII - SCHOOL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<", "SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah. We'll be collecting blankets,\ndisposable diapers, canned goods...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher raises her hand)</", "000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee, don't you want to use your\npopularity for a good cause?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", ">CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Only the fact that I've done it every other semester.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE VII - VARIOUS SCHOOL LOCALES</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SI", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "ZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher's got attitude about high\nschool boys.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, c'mere. Sign up, it's going\nto be really fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene c", "></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Meanwhile, back at school, everyone\nwas talking about Tai's &quot;brush with death&quot; at the mall.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n", "=+1>Whatever. If she doesn't do the assignment, I can't\ndo mine.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Ladies. So, does anyone have any further thoughts\non Cher's oration? Elton? Comments?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "FONT SIZE=+1>(Heaps of shots of the girls having fun)</FONT></FONT></TT></PRE>\n\n<PRE><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></PRE>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>So OK, you're probably thinking, &quot;Is this, like\na Noxema commercial, or what?!&quot; But seriously, I actually have a way\nnormal life for a teenage girl.", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TRAVIS</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher picks up a Bong", "Mr. Hall sublimely happy.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE IX - SCHOOL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Here's the four-one-one on Mr. Hall. He'", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey Cher.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"clue-s2p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless", "head movements and sound effects.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher?! Where are you going?\nYou're only hurting yourself here, baby. C'mon, you gonna walk home? Would\nyou get", "QUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis hands Cher a flyer)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><B>CHER</B> </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(reading)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COL", "0000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No, no.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, c'mon! Let us! Cher's main\nth" ], [ "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it, you're making me blush.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Phone rings. Cher answers)</FONT></F", "er, Dionne and Tai\nrun off)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><B>JOSH</B> </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(to\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Look, we got a pool going", "0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Josh put their phones\ndown)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>You are such a brown-noser.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Josh are in the lounge\nwatching T.V.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=", "ONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Funny.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher lets her hair down, and\nJosh is dum", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", "TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s38p1.jpg\" HSPACE=10 HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=200 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher goes to hit his shoulder,\nbut he catches her with a kiss. </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8", "<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher and Josh kiss.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\">\n</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">It's the one scene that I'll never get out\nof mind for the rest of my life. Simply awesome lip-lock!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "TT><FONT SIZE=+1>OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The scene moves to the poolside)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless/loser.w", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh moves up to sit beside\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Of course not.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", ".A. takes twenty\nminutes.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changes to outside front\nof party house.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><F", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>But you were hardly even married to his mother and\nthat was five years ago. Why do I have to see Josh?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch those LIPS", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT" ], [ "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I felt better already.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Back at Cher's house)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", "></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God. Do you see how he\nis falling in love with me?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "=+1>Oh, my God! She actually looked happy!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oooh, classic!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>When I saw the sparks between\nTai and Travis, I knew Josh was out of the picture.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright! You know, I don't get\nyou Cher. I mean, you flirt with me all year.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, listen to me. Me and Tai,\nI mean, we don't make any sense, right? Me and you, well, makes sense.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton tries for Cher, yet again.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<" ], [ "to\nsee who's girl gets the bouquet. It's up to two hundred dollars.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>It's in the bag.</FONT></FONT", "She's about to throw\nthe bouquet, c'mon!</FONT></FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s39p1.jpg\" HSPACE=10 VSPACE=10 HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=200 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Miss Stoeg", "ouquet exchanges hands and they all fall down. </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Classic\nscene!</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"> Cher ends up with it.)</FONT></FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s39p2.jpg\" HEIGHT=196 WIDTH=150 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SIZE=+1>&quot;Tenderness&quot; General\nPublic</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(All the girls are jumping around\nwaiting for the bouquet. Miss Giest/Mrs. Hall throws it amongst them. The\nb", ".A. takes twenty\nminutes.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changes to outside front\nof party house.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><F", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hand it over.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher squeals/moans)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><", "TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s38p1.jpg\" HSPACE=10 HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=200 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher goes to hit his shoulder,\nbut he catches her with a kiss. </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TRAVIS</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher picks up a Bong", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "=+1>Oh, my God! She actually looked happy!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oooh, classic!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene", "ONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai hug. Travis is\nannounced on the P.A.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>PA</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Next up, number", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah. We'll be collecting blankets,\ndisposable diapers, canned goods...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher raises her hand)</", "=+1>Yeah, thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai spots Elton dancing with\nAmber.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God, Cher, look. He's\ngoing with Amber?!</FONT", "QUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis hands Cher a flyer)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><B>CHER</B> </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(reading)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COL", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey Cher.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"clue-s2p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless" ], [ "OTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE VI - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Isn't my house classic? The columns date all the way\nback to 1972. Wasn't my Mom a betty?", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#00", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I felt better already.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Back at Cher's house)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>But you were hardly even married to his mother and\nthat was five years ago. Why do I have to see Josh?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch those LIPS", "80FF\">(to Mel)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>You're not letting her go out like that, are ya?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here.</F", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "She died when I was just a baby. A\nfluke accident during a routine liposuction. I don't remember her, but\nI like to pretend she still watches over me.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Ma. 98 in geometry. Pretty groovy, huh?</FONT></TT", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "0000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No, no.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, c'mon! Let us! Cher's main\nth", "people.&quot;</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changed to outside by\nthe pool. Cher's phone rings.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER </FONT></FONT></TT></B><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities", "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P>&nbsp; </P>\n\n<PRE><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE I - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></PRE>\n\n<PRE><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SIZE=+1>&quot;Kids in America&quot; The Muffs</FONT></FONT></TT></B></PRE>\n\n<PRE><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><" ], [ "She died when I was just a baby. A\nfluke accident during a routine liposuction. I don't remember her, but\nI like to pretend she still watches over me.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Ma. 98 in geometry. Pretty groovy, huh?</FONT></TT", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "OTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE VI - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Isn't my house classic? The columns date all the way\nback to 1972. Wasn't my Mom a betty?", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I felt better already.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Back at Cher's house)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>But you were hardly even married to his mother and\nthat was five years ago. Why do I have to see Josh?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch those LIPS", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#00", "FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye. </FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Looks like we're going to", "=+1>Oh, my God! She actually looked happy!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oooh, classic!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene", "people.&quot;</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changed to outside by\nthe pool. Cher's phone rings.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER </FONT></FONT></TT></B><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities", ".O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and her boyfriend, Murray are in this dramatic\nrelationship. I think they've seen that Ike and Tina Turner movie just\ntoo many times. Now I have to say to her...</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE" ], [ "+1>(Christian kisses Cher on the\ncheek)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, man.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian extends his hand,\nbut Mel ignores it)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOT", "QUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(", "Christian and\nCher lying on bed watching &quot;Spartacus&quot;)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian had a thing for Tony\nCurtis, so he brought over &", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", "CHRISTIAN</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you. Your dad is pretty scary.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Isn't he?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCK", "quot;Some Like It Hot&quot; and &quot;Sparaticus&quot;.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher starts rubbing her feet\nup against Christian's legs. Christian doesn't enjoy it)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The girls watch Christian shrug\noff an interested girl)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I mean, look how he ignores\nevery other girl.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's get Christian and go.\nChristian! You wanna go?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", ">\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's go.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian and Cher return to\nthe dance floor)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright! You know, I don't get\nyou Cher. I mean, you flirt with me all year.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>And with that in mind, I'm going to distribute you\nreport cards. Now, is there a Christian Stobich in this class?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR. Hall? The buzz on Christian is that", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh moves up to sit beside\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Of course not.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What for? Do you want to have a miserable, frustrating\nlife?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Josh will have that no matter what he does.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>And he likes someone else.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What's that?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian laughs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You sure?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>" ], [ ">\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Where'", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", ">\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>That's not true.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000", "><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Uh, the dreaded ex. Tai, this\nis Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What the hell are you talking\nabout?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>LAWYER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You know exactly what I'm talking\nabout. Josh", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>So, what do ya think?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0", ">\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>She's not ready.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The two of them walk over to\nwhere Mel is working)</FONT></FONT></TT></P", ", go, go, go.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. I'll watch her for you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh walks off)</", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh moves up to sit beside\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Of course not.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Josh, you busy?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>HEATHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah, towards the mall.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Which reminds me,", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What was that all about?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>She wants", "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What for? Do you want to have a miserable, frustrating\nlife?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Josh will have that no matter what he does.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>But you were hardly even married to his mother and\nthat was five years ago. Why do I have to see Josh?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch those LIPS", "ONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Josh, you are not my brother.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</F", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I hope you're not thinking of staying here.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I sure want to.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CH", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, she didn't know.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+", "000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You know your gorgeous, alright?\nAnd popular, and, um, and... but this is not why I, you know, I come here.\nThis is a good learning experience for me.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P" ], [ ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "Tai hands joint to Cher and\nblows smoke in her face.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Cher! Is it true some gang\nmembers, like tried to shoot Tai in the mall?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai runs over and hugs Cher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, you don'", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Chill?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai start walking\naway)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT", "CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Tai falls down the stairs on\nher butt!</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"> </FONT><", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, listen to me. Me and Tai,\nI mean, we don't make any sense, right? Me and you, well, makes sense.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton tries for Cher, yet again.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hello?! Don't you mean Tai?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT", "+1>(Elton carries Tai into the\nkitchen and places her on the counter)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n", "and butts in to stop it)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai, I need you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT", "></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Meanwhile, back at school, everyone\nwas talking about Tai's &quot;brush with death&quot; at the mall.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n", "80FF\">(to Mel)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>You're not letting her go out like that, are ya?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here.</F", "=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>But, you could take Tai on your\nway up to Sunset. Yeah.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SIZE=+1>&quot;Supermodel&quot; Jill\nSobule</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Various scenes of Cher and\nDionne making over Tai, then Cher and Tai working out in the lounge room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT", "ONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai hug. Travis is\nannounced on the P.A.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>PA</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Next up, number" ], [ "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yes, Daddy.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, I expect you to become a good driver. I want\nto see you apply yourself.</FONT></TT", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "CHRISTIAN</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you. Your dad is pretty scary.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Isn't he?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCK", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yes, Daddy?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Your father has a well-rounded\ncollection.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<", "\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXIV - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Suddenly, Daddy had a case that had to be solved right\naway, so some clerks and Josh came to help him go through a gazillion depositions.</F", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#00", "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Is that true?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "ONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The doorbell rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><B>CHER</B> <FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(from upstairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Daddy!</", "CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Uh-huh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "><B>CHER</B> <FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(on phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Wass", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P>&nbsp; </P>\n\n<PRE><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE I - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></PRE>\n\n<PRE><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SIZE=+1>&quot;Kids in America&quot; The Muffs</FONT></FONT></TT></B></PRE>\n\n<PRE><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><" ], [ "rill in life is a make-over. OK, it gives her a sense of control on a\nworld full of chaos.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Pleeeaaase.</", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I had to give myself snaps for\nall the good deeds I was doing. It was so great. Love was everywhere. Even\nthough I was alone, I was really happy for Tai. It's like that book I read\nin ninth grade that said, &quot;'tis a far, far better thing doing stuff\nfor other", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I felt better already.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Back at Cher's house)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You notice any positive changes\nin her?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", ">\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's go.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian and Cher return to\nthe dance floor)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V", "t know,\nI can't, I can't pinpoint the spirituality out for you, you know, if you've\nnever experienced anything...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXV - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", ", while we were learning\nabout the Pismo Beach diaster, I decided I needed a complete make-over,\nexcept this time I'd make-over my soul. But what makes someone a better\nperson? And then I realised, all my friends were really good in different\nways. Like, Christian, he always wants things to be beautiful and interesting.\nOr Dionne and Murray, when they think no one is watching, are so considerate\nof each other. And poor Miss Giest, always trying to get us involved, no\nmatter how much we resist?</FONT></F", "of my own.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXX - THE MALL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TRAVIS</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher picks up a Bong", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh. Miss Stoeger? I would just\nlike to say that physical education in this school is a disgrace. I mean,\nstanding in line for forty minutes is hardly", "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What for? Do you want to have a miserable, frustrating\nlife?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Josh will have that no matter what he does.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "E>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher starts dragging a heap\nof stuff to the front door)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher" ], [ "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0", "ONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cliff's notes.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s9p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=221 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You know what? Ok,", ", and the fact\nthat you hang with Dee and I, well...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Speaks very highly of you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P", "/dione.wav\"><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/speaker.gif\" BORDER=0 HEIGHT=19 WIDTH=20 ALIGN=ABSBOTTOM></A></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and I were both named after great singers of\nthe past who now do infomercials.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "of nowhere.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch her face when she looks\nback at the road)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Here's where Dionne lives. She's my friend because\nwe both know what it's like to have people be jealous of us.</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Dionne drags a dancing girl\naway from Murray.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "QUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Well, yeah.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "wood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p2.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Cher, he's getting her digits. Look at Giest,\nshe is so cute.</FONT></TT></", "ONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry to make you leave, Dionne\nis bucking for best dramatic actress at a Val party.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SI", "><B>CHER</B> <FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(on phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Wass", ">(NOTHING!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXIX - MURRAY'S CAR</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's see. Who's available?\nThere's Bronson... I got it! Elton! He just broke up with Collette.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT", ">\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee, why do you put up with it? You could do so much\nbetter.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright, sh, sh. Here he comes.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "=+1>Excuse me, Miss Dionne. </FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQU", "SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I'll call ya, OK?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQU", "><FONT SIZE=+1>You have such pretty eyes. Don't hide them. And these\nclips are so cute.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>And this tiny little waist. Oooh, wow.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves outside)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>C'mon, Dee.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n", "FONT SIZE=+1>Uh, OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Miss Giest reads the note left\nby the girls and her face brightens)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE", "told you I want it in the\nmorning. No!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVIII - MURRAY'S CAR</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></" ], [ "She died when I was just a baby. A\nfluke accident during a routine liposuction. I don't remember her, but\nI like to pretend she still watches over me.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Ma. 98 in geometry. Pretty groovy, huh?</FONT></TT", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "OTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE VI - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Isn't my house classic? The columns date all the way\nback to 1972. Wasn't my Mom a betty?", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I felt better already.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Back at Cher's house)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SI", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye. </FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Looks like we're going to", "=+1>Oh, my God! She actually looked happy!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oooh, classic!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#00", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "people.&quot;</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changed to outside by\nthe pool. Cher's phone rings.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER </FONT></FONT></TT></B><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>But you were hardly even married to his mother and\nthat was five years ago. Why do I have to see Josh?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch those LIPS" ], [ "OTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You're great. We're friends,\nright?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher nods)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "=+1>Oh, my God! She actually looked happy!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oooh, classic!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#00", "0\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure. Why not? Shit! You guys!\nI have never had straight friends before.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P>&nbsp;</P>\n\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XV - MAKE-OVER AT CHER'S\nHOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT", "people.&quot;</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changed to outside by\nthe pool. Cher's phone rings.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER </FONT></FONT></TT></B><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities", "=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>He's a disco-dancing, Oscar\nWilde-reading, Streissand ticket-holding friend of Dorothy, know what I'm\nsaying?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", ".O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Dionne and her boyfriend, Murray are in this dramatic\nrelationship. I think they've seen that Ike and Tina Turner movie just\ntoo many times. Now I have to say to her...</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it, you're making me blush.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Phone rings. Cher answers)</FONT></F", "=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Well, obviously this boy is\na complete moron. You are the most beautiful girl in Beverly Hills. And\nto tell you the truth, I'm not sure I want you with a stupid fella like\nthat.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "0000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No, no.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, c'mon! Let us! Cher's main\nth" ], [ ", we decided to show Tai the\nropes at Bronson Alcott High School.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>That is Alana's group over there.\nThey do the", "Mr. Hall sublimely happy.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE IX - SCHOOL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Here's the four-one-one on Mr. Hall. He'", "=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh. Miss Stoeger? I would just\nlike to say that physical education in this school is a disgrace. I mean,\nstanding in line for forty minutes is hardly", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis and Miss Giest walk\nout of her office toward where Cher and Dionne have split the scene)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "only one in this\nschool with any intelligence.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE X - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here!</FONT></TT></P>", "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>And with that in mind, I'm going to distribute you\nreport cards. Now, is there a Christian Stobich in this class?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR. Hall? The buzz on Christian is that", "ONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, that'd be reason enough for me.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XII - SCHOOL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<", "s single,\nhe's 47, and he earns minor duckets for a thankless job. What that man\nneeds is a good healthy boinkfest. Unfortunately, there was a major babe\ndrought in our school. The evil trolls from the math department were actually\nmarried,... oooh Snickers... and in the grand tradition of P.E. teachers,\nMs. Stoeger seemed to be same-sex oriented. Of course, there was always\nMiss Giest. Something told me not to discount Miss Giest. Well sure,", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "ONT SIZE=+1>Yeah, I hope not sporadically.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVI - SCHOOL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P", "=+1>Whatever. If she doesn't do the assignment, I can't\ndo mine.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Ladies. So, does anyone have any further thoughts\non Cher's oration? Elton? Comments?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey Cher.</FONT></TT><imr smc=\"clue-s2p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless", "><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee, my mission is clear. Would\nyou look at that girl? She is so adorably clueless. We have got to adopt\nher.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<", "B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher", "BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Shouldn't you go to school on the East Coast? I hear\ngirls at N.Y.U. aren't at all particular.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></" ], [ "Mr. Hall sublimely happy.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE IX - SCHOOL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Here's the four-one-one on Mr. Hall. He'", "ONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you, Mr. Hall. Miss Giest was right about you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What do you mean?</", "ONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The following scenes show Miss\nGiest and Mr. Hall get it on while everyone is thanking Cher.)</FONT></FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p3.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=224 ALIGN=RIGHT></", "1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I had to give myself snaps for\nall the good deeds I was doing. It was so great. Love was everywhere. Even\nthough I was alone, I was really happy for Tai. It's like that book I read\nin ninth grade that said, &quot;'tis a far, far better thing doing stuff\nfor other", ", while we were learning\nabout the Pismo Beach diaster, I decided I needed a complete make-over,\nexcept this time I'd make-over my soul. But what makes someone a better\nperson? And then I realised, all my friends were really good in different\nways. Like, Christian, he always wants things to be beautiful and interesting.\nOr Dionne and Murray, when they think no one is watching, are so considerate\nof each other. And poor Miss Giest, always trying to get us involved, no\nmatter how much we resist?</FONT></F", "=+1>Oh, my God! She actually looked happy!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oooh, classic!</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis and Miss Giest walk\nout of her office toward where Cher and Dionne have split the scene)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</", "OTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Look at Cher's face while speaking!\nAhhh, I can't take it anymore!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you for that perspective Cher.</FONT></TT></P>", "=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh. Miss Stoeger? I would just\nlike to say that physical education in this school is a disgrace. I mean,\nstanding in line for forty minutes is hardly", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "=+1>Whatever. If she doesn't do the assignment, I can't\ndo mine.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Ladies. So, does anyone have any further thoughts\non Cher's oration? Elton? Comments?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", "><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Dee, my mission is clear. Would\nyou look at that girl? She is so adorably clueless. We have got to adopt\nher.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<", "ER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>As if! I am only sixteen, and\nthis is California, not Kentucky.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Mr. Hall and Miss Giest get\nmarried)</FONT></FONT", "t know,\nI can't, I can't pinpoint the spirituality out for you, you know, if you've\nnever experienced anything...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXV - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT", "s single,\nhe's 47, and he earns minor duckets for a thankless job. What that man\nneeds is a good healthy boinkfest. Unfortunately, there was a major babe\ndrought in our school. The evil trolls from the math department were actually\nmarried,... oooh Snickers... and in the grand tradition of P.E. teachers,\nMs. Stoeger seemed to be same-sex oriented. Of course, there was always\nMiss Giest. Something told me not to discount Miss Giest. Well sure,", "FONT SIZE=+1>Uh, OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Miss Giest reads the note left\nby the girls and her face brightens)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE", "FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Miss Giest?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "tolerance is always a good lesson, even when it comes out of nowhere.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>TRAVIS</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>" ], [ "Christian and\nCher lying on bed watching &quot;Spartacus&quot;)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian had a thing for Tony\nCurtis, so he brought over &", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The girls watch Christian shrug\noff an interested girl)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I mean, look how he ignores\nevery other girl.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000", "quot;Some Like It Hot&quot; and &quot;Sparaticus&quot;.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher starts rubbing her feet\nup against Christian's legs. Christian doesn't enjoy it)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, man.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian extends his hand,\nbut Mel ignores it)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOT", "+1>(Christian kisses Cher on the\ncheek)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P", ">\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's go.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian and Cher return to\nthe dance floor)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian puts a pillow over\nCher's feet)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CH", "QUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>I didn't even see him come in,\nbut it's like he finds the only adult in here, like he's deliberately trying\nto not have fun.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch the look on Cher's face\nas", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Alright! You know, I don't get\nyou Cher. I mean, you flirt with me all year.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Let's get Christian and go.\nChristian! You wanna go?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+", "></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>And he likes someone else.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What's that?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian laughs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P", "t know,\nI can't, I can't pinpoint the spirituality out for you, you know, if you've\nnever experienced anything...</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXV - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh moves up to sit beside\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Of course not.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>C'mon, show me the rest of your\npad.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Christian are outside\namong Mel's art collection)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHRISTIAN</", "\nGail Orange</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>He said he'd come over with\nsome video tapes and we'd watch them. A night alone with Christian! I sent\nfor" ], [ "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What for? Do you want to have a miserable, frustrating\nlife?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Josh will have that no matter what he does.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Whatever. I am going to take\nthat lost soul in there and make her well-dressed and popular. Her life\nwill be better because of me. How many girls can say that about you?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Josh", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What was that all about?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>She wants", "ONT SIZE=+1>Good. Now that takes care of\nour minds and bodies, but we should do something good for mankind or the\nplanet for a couple of hours.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh walks in)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>J", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You know your gorgeous, alright?\nAnd popular, and, um, and... but this is not why I, you know, I come here.\nThis is a good learning experience for me.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P", ">\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>She's not ready.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The two of them walk over to\nwhere Mel is working)</FONT></FONT></TT></P", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah, towards the mall.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Which reminds me,", ">\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Where'", "ONT SIZE=+1>What's wrong? Is Josh giving you shit because he's\ngoing through his post-adolescent idealistic phase?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Look, there's Mr. Hall.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I hope you're not thinking of staying here.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I sure want to.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CH", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>So, what do ya think?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0", ", go, go, go.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. I'll watch her for you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh walks off)</", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>What the hell are you talking\nabout?!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>LAWYER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>You know exactly what I'm talking\nabout. Josh", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh moves up to sit beside\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Of course not.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I mean, unless you want? I mean, unless you want?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Josh! Go to the party. Go", "existential.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Do you have any idea what you're\ntalking about?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQU", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey! You know about this stuff.\nI want to do something good for humanity.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0" ], [ "></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SIZE=+1>&quot;Tenderness&quot; General\nPublic</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(All the girls are jumping around\nwaiting for the bouquet. Miss Giest/Mrs. Hall throws it amongst them. The\nb", "She's about to throw\nthe bouquet, c'mon!</FONT></FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s39p1.jpg\" HSPACE=10 VSPACE=10 HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=200 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Miss Stoeg", "to\nsee who's girl gets the bouquet. It's up to two hundred dollars.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>It's in the bag.</FONT></FONT", "ONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The following scenes show Miss\nGiest and Mr. Hall get it on while everyone is thanking Cher.)</FONT></FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p3.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=224 ALIGN=RIGHT></", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Well, you can guess what happened\nnext.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXIX - THE WEDDING</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CH", "ouquet exchanges hands and they all fall down. </FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Classic\nscene!</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"> Cher ends up with it.)</FONT></FONT></TT><imr smc=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s39p2.jpg\" HEIGHT=196 WIDTH=150 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis and Miss Giest walk\nout of her office toward where Cher and Dionne have split the scene)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</", "wood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p2.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=188 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Cher, he's getting her digits. Look at Giest,\nshe is so cute.</FONT></TT></", "OTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MURRAY</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God. They're planning\nour weddings already. Could you all stop all that to death do us part mumbo-jumbo.\nI'm telling ya, man, I'm completely", "s single,\nhe's 47, and he earns minor duckets for a thankless job. What that man\nneeds is a good healthy boinkfest. Unfortunately, there was a major babe\ndrought in our school. The evil trolls from the math department were actually\nmarried,... oooh Snickers... and in the grand tradition of P.E. teachers,\nMs. Stoeger seemed to be same-sex oriented. Of course, there was always\nMiss Giest. Something told me not to discount Miss Giest. Well sure,", "ER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>As if! I am only sixteen, and\nthis is California, not Kentucky.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Mr. Hall and Miss Giest get\nmarried)</FONT></FONT", "ONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Thank you, Mr. Hall. Miss Giest was right about you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MR HALL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What do you mean?</", "></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Dionne drags a dancing girl\naway from Murray.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0000", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "FONT SIZE=+1>Uh, OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Miss Giest reads the note left\nby the girls and her face brightens)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>DIONNE</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE", "1>(Paroudasm mutters something\nin Farsi and his friends cheer)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Janet Huon, no tardies.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CLASSMATES</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Kisser!", ".A. takes twenty\nminutes.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changes to outside front\nof party house.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><F", "=\"http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/5342/clue-s12p1.jpg\" HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=200 ALIGN=RIGHT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Outside Miss Giest's office,\nshe opens the door)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1", "Miss Giest, Miss Giest.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>MISS GIEST</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Yes, dear?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>" ], [ "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher gets out of the car.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch Cher compose herself\nafter getting out of the car. i.e. the", "TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. So, actually, I have a permit and I can drive\nand all, but Daddy says I can't take the jeep out without a licenced driver,\nand since your not doing anything and all, you know?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n", "s\ngot four wheel drive, dual side airbags and monster sound system. I don't\nhave a licence yet, but I need something to learn on.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs over a potted plant\non the kerb)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, why that came out", "CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Yes, Daddy.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, I expect you to become a good driver. I want\nto see you apply yourself.</FONT></TT", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, getting off the freeway\nmakes you realize how important love is. After that, Dionne's virginity\nwent from technical to non-exisistant. I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend\n", "\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, OK.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to", "you.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher reappears)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye, Daddy. C'mon!</FONT></TT></P>\n</", "she\nhas runs in her stockings, and her slip is always showing, and she always\nhas more lipstick on her teeth than her mouth. God, this woman is screaming\nfor a make-over. I'm her only hope.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher is writing a note outside\nMiss Giest's pidgeon hole)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><", "00\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Theme from &quot;2001:A Space\nOdyssey&quot; is playing while camera is focused on phone. The phone rings)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><F", "!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XVII - CHER'S HOUSE,\nDINING ROOM</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><", ".A. takes twenty\nminutes.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene changes to outside front\nof party house.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><F", "1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Bye-bye.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher hangs up the phone)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "Elton drives away.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\">\n</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">What a prick!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+", "TT><FONT SIZE=+1>OK.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The scene moves to the poolside)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O. </FONT></TT></B><A HREF=\"http://brian.simplenet.com/sounds/clueless/loser.w", "80FF\">(to Mel)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>You're not letting her go out like that, are ya?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>MEL</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, get in here.</F", "P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TRAVIS</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sure.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher picks up a Bong", "of my own.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXX - THE MALL</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<", "RISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, watch this part, this is\ngood.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher falls off the bed while\ntrying to look sexy.</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#" ], [ "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, God, look. There's Josh.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXVIII - CHER'S HOUSE</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", "ONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Josh, you are not my brother.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</F", "00000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Stop it, you're making me blush.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Phone rings. Cher answers)</FONT></F", "\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>But you were hardly even married to his mother and\nthat was five years ago. Why do I have to see Josh?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Watch those LIPS", ". Sexually harrassed, robbed. I didn't know the number of the\nparty, so I couldn't call Dionne, and Daddy would kill me if he knew where\nI was. There was just one person left to call, and I really, really didn't\nwant to call him.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher dials up Josh's place.\nHe's trying", "\"><FONT SIZE=+1>No.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Josh moves up to sit beside\nCher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Of course not.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Just forget it, OK? Just go\nback to the mall or something.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher runs out of the room)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "sick.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Lawyer leaves while Josh slams\nthe door behind him. Cher is sitting at the top of the stairs)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQU", "\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Cher appears walking down the\nstairs.</FONT> <FONT COLOR=\"#FF8000\">Josh and every male in the audience\nis stunned)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Christian.</F", "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Josh are in the lounge\nwatching T.V.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=", "0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Josh put their phones\ndown)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>You are such a brown-noser.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH", "ONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Funny.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher lets her hair down, and\nJosh is dum", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", "\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>What for? Do you want to have a miserable, frustrating\nlife?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, Josh will have that no matter what he does.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOT", "20 ALIGN=ABSBOTTOM></A></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>So, the flannel shirt deal. Is that a nod to the crispy\nSeattle weather, or are you just trying to stay warm in front of the refrigerator?</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><B>JOSH</B> <FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(grabs Cher's", "BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>Shouldn't you go to school on the East Coast? I hear\ngirls at N.Y.U. aren't at all particular.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></", "ONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>And, well, uh, what?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>When I saw the sparks between\nTai and Travis, I knew Josh was out of the picture.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B", "TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>JOSH</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>I went by Dad's office.</FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><" ], [ "\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai runs over and hugs Cher)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, you don'", "walks over to Tai, engages\nin small talk, then asks her to dance)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, look, look! Josh is dancing\nwith Tai, he never dances.</FONT></F", ">(Check out Cher's little smile\nand rock! Awesome!)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>OK. Tai, c'mere, c'mere, Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Scene moves to just Cher and\nTai", "CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT SIZE=+1><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\">(Tai falls down the stairs on\nher butt!</FONT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"> </FONT><", ">\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER V.O.</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>When I saw the sparks between\nTai and Travis, I knew Josh was out of the picture.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B", "<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hey, Tai! Wait up! Whooh!</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Travis jumps onto the crowd.\nNo one keeps him up and he hits the deck.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT", "></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Elton's over there.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(The girls start dancing. As\nTai is trying to impress Elton she is hit in the head by a flying Clog)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n", "ONT SIZE=+1>As if! I have been tryng to\nget you together with Tai.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai?! Why would I go with Tai?", "+1>CHRISTIAN</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, I dig it.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Time passes. Cher, Tai, Josh,\nand Christian are left. Christian is still dancing by himself)</FONT", "Tai hands joint to Cher and\nblows smoke in her face.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Sorry.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><", "E>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Cher, listen to me. Me and Tai,\nI mean, we don't make any sense, right? Me and you, well, makes sense.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton tries for Cher, yet again.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<", "><FONT COLOR=\"#FF0080\"><FONT SIZE=+1>&quot;Someday I Suppose&quot;\nMighty Mighty Bosstones</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Everyone is just dancing. Tai\nenters)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>", ">\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Boy, considering how clueless\nshe was, Tai certainly had that &quot;damsel in distress&quot; act down.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+2>SCENE XXXI - SCHOOL</FONT></FONT></TT", "><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Christian walks away)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>He is so cute!</FONT></FONT></TT", "COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Hello?! Don't you mean Tai?</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>ELTON</FONT", "ONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Cher and Tai hug. Travis is\nannounced on the P.A.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>PA</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Next up, number", "\nbe known as that girl who fell on her butt.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>CHER</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Tai, no one noticed.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQU", "><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Yeah, let's do it. You're ready.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Elton and Tai go back to the\ndance floor.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+", "=+1>Yeah, thanks.</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai spots Elton dancing with\nAmber.)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>Oh, my God, Cher, look. He's\ngoing with Amber?!</FONT", "></FONT></TT></P>\n</BLOCKQUOTE>\n\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#0080FF\"><FONT SIZE=+1>(Tai screams)</FONT></FONT></TT></P>\n\n<P><B><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT SIZE=+1>TAI</FONT></FONT></TT></B></P>\n\n<BLOCKQUOTE>\n<P><TT><FONT COLOR=\"#000000\"><FONT" ] ]

[ "What two teachers do Cher and Dionne help get together?", "Why does Cher stop Tai from being with Travis Birkenstock?", "Who does Cher develop a crush on?", "What can't Cher talk herself out of?", "Why do Cher and Tai fight?", "Who does Cher believe Tai belongs with?", "What is Dionne's boyfriend's name?", "What social cause does Cher head up at school?", "Where does Cher win $200 and a kiss from Josh?", "Who does Cher realize she has feelings for?", "How much does Cher win for catching the bouquet?", "Where is Cher's mother?", "How did Cher's mother die?", "Why doesn't Christian want to date Cher?", "Who is Josh?", "What does Cher try to do to Tai?", "What is Cher's father's profession?", "What activity does Cher lead to begin to live a more purposeful life?", "Who is Dionne?", "How did Cher's mom die?", "Who is Cher's best friend?", "Which teachers does Cher play matchmaker for?", "What does the happiness of Miss Geist and Mr Hall's relationship teach Cher?", "Why is Christian uninterested in Cher's advances?", "What does share captain in an effort to lead a purposeful life and attrack Josh?", "Who catches the bouquet at the Geist Hall wedding?", "What happens when Cher goes for her driving test?", "What is Josh's relation to Cher?", "Who does Tai fall in love with in the end?" ]

[ [ "Mr. Hall and Ms. Geist", "Mr.. Hall and Miss Geist" ], [ "He's a stoner and skateboarder.", "he's a skateboarding slacker" ], [ "Christian", "Christian and then Josh" ], [ "failing her driver's test", "failing her drivers test" ], [ "because Tai wants Cher to help her get together with Josh", "Cher won't play matchmaker for tai with josh." ], [ "Elton", "Elton" ], [ "Murray", "Murray" ], [ "Pismo Beach Disaster Relief", "The Pismo Beach disaster relief effort" ], [ "Mr. Hall and Ms. Geist's wedding.", "at a wedding" ], [ "Josh", "Her stepbrother Josh" ], [ "$200", "$200" ], [ "She is dead.", "She died when cher was a baby." ], [ "Liposuction accident", "During a routine liposuction procedure." ], [ "He is gay", "He's gay" ], [ "Cher's stepbrother", "Cher's step-brother" ], [ "Make her popular", "Get Elton to date her" ], [ "a litigator", "litigator" ], [ "A disaster relief effort at Pismo Beach", "match making" ], [ "Cher's best friend", "cher's best friend" ], [ "In a routine liposuction procedure", "An accident during a liposuction procedure" ], [ "Dionne", "DIonne" ], [ "Mr. Hall and Miss Geist", "Mr. Hall and Mrs. Geist." ], [ "That she likes doing good deeds", "She enjoys doing good deeds." ], [ "Because he's gay", "he's gay" ], [ "Pismo Beach disaster fundraiser", "The school's Pismo Beach Disaster Relief Effort" ], [ "Cher", "Cher" ], [ "She fails and can't talk her way out of it", "She fails the test." ], [ "He's her stepbrother", "step-brother" ], [ "Travis", "Travis" ] ]

[ [ "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu comes out of an opening and latches onto \n a tree as the Nothing consumes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and begins to devour it.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>of this once rich and \n beautiful world had been left by the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Now and you must hurry \n Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the nothing grows stronger \n everyday.<o:p></o:p", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians", "></o:p></U></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Oh no. The nothing! </P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyText2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n ", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Look Atreyu, the \n nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "been spared by the Nothing. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We span over all its beautiful features before \n we come to rest at the court <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Hurry Falkor, the nothing's \n everywhere.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">stops to eat one. Atreyu closes his eyes \n disgusted. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2>Atreyu smile as they start fighting. </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>the sky, searching frantically for \n his friend Falkor, but Falkor is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">not there. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP" ], [ "EmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Suddenly Artax stops and Atreyu pulls on the \n reigns. Artax doesn't budge<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", ".5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu jumps off Artax and pulls him along \n through the swamp.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Artax crosses the small stream and wakes up \n Atreyu by nuzzling him. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu or his horse, Artax, had the vaguest \n suspicion<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">that the creature of darkness, the G'mork, was \n already<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu and Artax had searched the Silver \n Mountains,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu runs through the gate and just barely \n makes it. He turns and looks back, then sighs.<o:p></o:", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "his waist. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Suddenly he notices that Artax is \n sinking)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu reluctantly gives up on calling Falkor. \n He turns his eyes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P", "\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu stumbling, exhausted through the \n swamp. He falls several <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">times and has to stop for rest. His shoulder \n really hurts him. Atreyu stumbles <o:p></o:p></SP", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">END SCENE: view of \n Atreyu and his horse galloping away from the ivory tower. –Fade \n out<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu and Artax near a \n stream.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of the surrounding rocks. Atreyu follows him on \n the ground.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n ", "\n Artax, please.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You're letting the sadness of the swamps get to \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp" ], [ "P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu has to face his true \n self.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "rial\">Let's see what he really thinks of \n himself<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu watches through", "IN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Atreyu in a blizzard. He approaches the \n Mirror gate and looks into it.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>After", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>corner and sees the wolf hiding in \n a smaller opening. It growls wildly at Atreyu <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n am Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Atreyu. He sticks his hand through the \n Mirror and then pulls it back out. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then he walks through the \n gate.<o:p></o", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", "eyes and zap the man. Atreyu looks up, shocked at the sight he had \n seen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "ONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Close up of Atreyu as the old man speaks to \n him.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-" ], [ "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", "\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu stumbling, exhausted through the \n swamp. He falls several <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">times and has to stop for rest. His shoulder \n really hurts him. Atreyu stumbles <o:p></o:p></SP", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "\n wilder until finally it tosses Falkor onto his back, and knocks his \n passenger into the air. Atreyu falls, but Falkor cannot get to him before \n he disappears into the chaos below.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu reluctantly gives up on calling Falkor. \n He turns his eyes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu runs through the gate and just barely \n makes it. He turns and looks back, then sighs.<o:p></o:", "acerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Atreyu !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">FADE TO- \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu on a lying on a beach. At", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu comes out of an opening and latches onto \n a tree as the Nothing consumes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "AN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Yes, but it's hopeless. It's", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "AN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">into a puddle up to his neck and we see the \n wolf running after him. As Atreyu <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">starts to" ], [ "AMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>He \n who wears the Auryn speaks for the Empress.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It will guide and protect \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Let the Auryn guide \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in\"><SPAN \n", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Empress giving the Auryn to Carion, Carion \n giving the Auryn to Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Auryn symbol on the cover, in which he's \n reading his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">own story right now.<o:p></", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Well, we haven't seen the \n Auryn in a long time.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "reyu \n wakes with a start, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and discovers that the Auryn is gone. He stands \n up and looks at<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">He takes off the Auryn and hands it to her. She \n looks at it, and then him <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">for an", ". Falkor opens his \n mouth, and plucks the Auryn<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>from the coral with his \n teeth.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "\" The Auryn\" Could be heard whispered \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throughout the court filled with \n creatures.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&", "ARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But I lost the Auryn, I \n can't find my luck dragon, so I won't be able<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", "SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Auryn starts glowing and the fragments \n move, behind them standing<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 3pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>in \n all its glory is the ivory", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Let's hope so, Atreyu. Let's \n hope so.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "symbol as the front of the book. He fastens it \n on Atreyu.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">", "FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Yea..... I mean no. \n No!<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P", "P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu has to face his true \n self.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"" ], [ "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia has no \n boundaries.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SP", "rial\">to get past the boundaries \n of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>the more magnificent Fantasia will become.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMIL", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">FADE OUT TO: \n Fantasia<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Two fragments of Fantasia collide and explode \n shaking the Tower Violently.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", ":</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Foolish boy. Don't you know \n anything about Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>No, it hasn't. Fantasia can arise in you . <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one from Fantasia can do \n it, only a human child.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "AN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>appeared on the terrace of the Ivory Tower, he carried with him the \n hopes of all<SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia.\" </P>", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Don't worry. We'll reach the boundaries of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "\n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the world of human \n fantasy. Every part ,every<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">creature of it, is a piece \n of the dreams and hopes of mankind.<o:p></o", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "nbsp;</SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 2\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>That \n was the end of Fantasia. Only a few fragments remained \n <o:p", "=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">What if they really do know \n about me in Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", ";&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia has totally disappeared", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not" ], [ ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The door to the Empress's room opens into the \n courtyard. Lots of creatures from Fantasia await help from the Empress. \n The Empress's head servant comes out of her room and speaks to them all. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu walks up the stairs that lead to the \n Empress's room. The chamber <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You know how I can help the Empress don't \n you?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "acerun: yes\">&nbsp; </SPAN>Bastian. He leans forward and \n whispers <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-", "so-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Friends, I know why you are all \n here. The nothing is destroying our world. I also know that you have come \n to beseech the Empress for help. But I, I have terrible news. The Empress \n herself has become deathly ill. There seems to be a mysterious link \n between her illness and the nothing. She is dying. So she cannot save \n us...<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>To \n find a cure for the Empress .....and to save our \n world.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one can give you any advice except this, you \n must go<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN", "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Bastian moves in closer.) Well, what is it \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian leans over and whispers in his ear. \n Falkor laughs.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", "mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n do not know, but if you fail the Empress will surely \n die<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and our whole world will be \n destroyed.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Call my name ! Bastian, please ! Save us ! <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>In your dreams and wishes Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n " ], [ "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The door to the Empress's room opens into the \n courtyard. Lots of creatures from Fantasia await help from the Empress. \n The Empress's head servant comes out of her room and speaks to them all. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "nbsp;</SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 2\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>That \n was the end of Fantasia. Only a few fragments remained \n <o:p", " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Two fragments of Fantasia collide and explode \n shaking the Tower Violently.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN" ], [ "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of the three bullies talking out on the \n street where they had chased Bastian the day before. They look up at the \n sky as Falkor and Bastian appear and start chasing them. They \n scream…<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">Out on the street 3 \n bullies are laughing. As Bastian walks out, they stop.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">Bastian comes \n out of the dumpster and enters the street brushing garbage off himself. \n The bullies see him and stand up straight. </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", " <P class=MsoNormal \n style=\"MARGIN: 0in 85.5pt 0pt 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">All three bullies shove Bastian into a nearby \n dumpster. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![", " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN" ], [ "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ":<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No, all the land is \n gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "soNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">more and more the surrounding land. Atreyu \n calls out for Falkor and this time Falkor <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">calls back.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "\n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the world of human \n fantasy. Every part ,every<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">creature of it, is a piece \n of the dreams and hopes of mankind.<o:p></o", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">somewhere in the deadly Swamps of \n Sadness.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0", "-FAMILY: Arial\">the Desert of Shattered Hopes, and the Crystal \n Towers<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">without success. And so, there was only one \n chance left.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=", " the book.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">On and on they flew until they reached \n the<o:p></o", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">To find Morla, the ancient one, the wisest \n being in<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia who’s home was the Shell \n Mountain<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "eyes and zap the man. Atreyu looks up, shocked at the sight he had \n seen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Ahead of him is a larce mostly intact building, \n Atreyu dodges falling rocks and <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">enters an opening. <o:p></o:p></SP", "Arial\">After days and nights of unconsciousness, \n Atreyu slowly <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">opened his eyes and found himself in strange \n surroundings. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW of Falkor and \n Atreyu. The sky is gray and is incredibly windy. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Great storm clouds can be seen all around \n churning and expanding.<o:p></o:p></", "not just \n in our part of Fantasia? </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Nighthob:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP" ], [ ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and begins to devour it.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Two fragments of Fantasia collide and explode \n shaking the Tower Violently.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "can't get \n beyond the boundaries of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork laughs and", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "same time, elsewhere in Fantasia, a creature<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of darkness also began his \n quest.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Don't worry. We'll reach the boundaries of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", ":</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Foolish boy. Don't you know \n anything about Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", "rial\">to get past the boundaries \n of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "not just \n in our part of Fantasia? </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Nighthob:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>the more magnificent Fantasia will become.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMIL", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">FADE OUT TO: \n Fantasia<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one from Fantasia can do \n it, only a human child.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !" ], [ ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "Y: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>They were with him when he took the \n book with the <o:p></", "><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&", "=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>To \n find a cure for the Empress .....and to save our \n world.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one can give you any advice except this, you \n must go<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P", "TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN><SP", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Childlike Empress:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu walks up the stairs that lead to the \n Empress's room. The chamber <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Empress giving the Auryn to Carion, Carion \n giving the Auryn to Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n" ], [ "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", "\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n am Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "symbol as the front of the book. He fastens it \n on Atreyu.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN" ], [ "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu comes out of an opening and latches onto \n a tree as the Nothing consumes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "EmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Suddenly Artax stops and Atreyu pulls on the \n reigns. Artax doesn't budge<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Now and you must hurry \n Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the nothing grows stronger \n everyday.<o:p></o:p", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Look Atreyu, the \n nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No you didn't fail. I'm the \n one who was chosen to stop the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">stops to eat one. Atreyu closes his eyes \n disgusted. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2>Atreyu smile as they start fighting. </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso", "soNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">more and more the surrounding land. Atreyu \n calls out for Falkor and this time Falkor <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">calls back.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "\n wilder until finally it tosses Falkor onto his back, and knocks his \n passenger into the air. Atreyu falls, but Falkor cannot get to him before \n he disappears into the chaos below.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The ground shakes and Atreyu falls over \n backward. He grabs a long, sharp <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">piece of broken stone and stands up. He then \n yells at G'm" ], [ "IN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Sadness. His name was \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", "\n Artax, please.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You're letting the sadness of the swamps get to \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp", "\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu stumbling, exhausted through the \n swamp. He falls several <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">times and has to stop for rest. His shoulder \n really hurts him. Atreyu stumbles <o:p></o:p></SP", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW: of Atreyu walking through the swamps \n crying. He stops suddenly and we see a mountain. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyPar", ".5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu jumps off Artax and pulls him along \n through the swamp.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu reluctantly gives up on calling Falkor. \n He turns his eyes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Fight against the sadness Artax.", " style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Atreyu trying to save Artax in the \n Swamps of Sadness, Morla, and Falkor, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and more.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", ";&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Falkor !Falkor !Where are \n you? Falkor !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-IND", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Artax crosses the small stream and wakes up \n Atreyu by nuzzling him. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U" ], [ "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAM", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "AN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SP", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN ", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN ", "center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">To find Morla, the ancient one, the wisest \n being in<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia who’s home was the Shell \n Mountain<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "\n align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Not that it matters but \n yes.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Bastian:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>Morla the \n ancient one. <o:p></", "5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Are you Morla,", "style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Die ? That at least would be \n something.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Well, we haven't seen the \n Auryn in a long time.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "AN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Please help me Morla. Do you \n recognize this?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyTextIndent2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0in\">WIDE VIEW: </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2>Atreyu climbs up the muddy mountain and calls \n for Morla several times. The mountain<SPAN \n ", "AN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We're tired of sneezing, go away. Nothing \n matters.<o:p></o", "\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla, I bring terrible \n news. Did you know that<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center" ], [ "P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu has to face his true \n self.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "rial\">Let's see what he really thinks of \n himself<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu watches through", "IN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Atreyu in a blizzard. He approaches the \n Mirror gate and looks into it.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>After", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>corner and sees the wolf hiding in \n a smaller opening. It growls wildly at Atreyu <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "eyes and zap the man. Atreyu looks up, shocked at the sight he had \n seen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Atreyu. He sticks his hand through the \n Mirror and then pulls it back out. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then he walks through the \n gate.<o:p></o", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n am Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu does fine until he sees the fallen man, \n who is just a charred skeleton. He panics and starts looking back and \n forth between the 2 sphinxes. <o:p></", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu runs through the gate and just barely \n makes it. He turns and looks back, then sighs.<o:p></o:", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp" ], [ "can't get \n beyond the boundaries of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork laughs and", "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the emptiness that's", "AN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am G'mork. And you, \n whoever you are,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">can have the honor of being \n my last victim.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G’mork:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in;", "\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SP", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", ".5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">heart, killing the G’mork. As Atreyu pulls \n himself from the carcass of the G’mork,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>", "-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(G'mork laughs.) Brave \n warrior, then fight the nothing", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu or his horse, Artax, had the vaguest \n suspicion<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">that the creature of darkness, the G'mork, was \n already<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork growls and jumps at him. Atreyu plunges \n the sharp rock into the beasts <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then you must know what can \n save Fantasia !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork arrives were they had been and catches \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></" ], [ "\n Bastian<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian flops down on his back and sighs. \n", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>In your dreams and wishes Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "; MARGIN-RIGHT: 3.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian turns and runs.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-RIGHT: 3.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "nbsp; </SPAN>Bastian made \n many other wishes and had many other amazing <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SP", "acerun: yes\">&nbsp; </SPAN>Bastian. He leans forward and \n whispers <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Swamps of \n Sadness<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "ONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Bastian. He looks up from the \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Bastian turns", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Nothing….<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Bastian looks around.) <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian leans over and whispers in his ear. \n Falkor laughs.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F" ], [ "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "></o:p></U></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Oh no. The nothing! </P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyText2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n ", "\n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">What is the nothing \n ?!<o:p", "been spared by the Nothing. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We span over all its beautiful features before \n we come to rest at the court <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "THE NOTHING. Great masses \n of <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">clouds swirl and churn and collide on the \n screen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Look Atreyu, the \n nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu comes out of an opening and latches onto \n a tree as the Nothing consumes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am the servant of the \n power behind the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(G'mork laughs.) Brave \n warrior, then fight the nothing", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Hurry Falkor, the nothing's \n everywhere.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;</SPAN>Falkor, it's \n like the nothing never was.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", "SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the emptiness that's", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Now and you must hurry \n Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the nothing grows stronger \n everyday.<o:p></o:p", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>No, a hole would be something. Nah, \n it was nothing. And it got bigger and bigger. First there was no lake \n anymore and then finally, no rocks.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p", "; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No you didn't fail. I'm the \n one who was chosen to stop the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", "ail, the Nighthob, even<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>the stupid bat. I \n couldn't hold on to them. The nothing<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal" ], [ "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "></o:p></U></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Oh no. The nothing! </P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyText2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n ", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am the servant of the \n power behind the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Now and you must hurry \n Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the nothing grows stronger \n everyday.<o:p></o:p", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians", "been spared by the Nothing. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We span over all its beautiful features before \n we come to rest at the court <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Hurry Falkor, the nothing's \n everywhere.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Look Atreyu, the \n nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(G'mork laughs.) Brave \n warrior, then fight the nothing", "so-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Friends, I know why you are all \n here. The nothing is destroying our world. I also know that you have come \n to beseech the Empress for help. But I, I have terrible news. The Empress \n herself has become deathly ill. There seems to be a mysterious link \n between her illness and the nothing. She is dying. So she cannot save \n us...<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;</SPAN>Falkor, it's \n like the nothing never was.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No you didn't fail. I'm the \n one who was chosen to stop the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu comes out of an opening and latches onto \n a tree as the Nothing consumes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "\n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">What is the nothing \n ?!<o:p", "ail, the Nighthob, even<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>the stupid bat. I \n couldn't hold on to them. The nothing<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the emptiness that's" ], [ "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one from Fantasia can do \n it, only a human child.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">FADE OUT TO: \n Fantasia<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", ":</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Foolish boy. Don't you know \n anything about Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Two fragments of Fantasia collide and explode \n shaking the Tower Violently.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>the more magnificent Fantasia will become.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMIL", "nbsp;</SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 2\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>That \n was the end of Fantasia. Only a few fragments remained \n <o:p", "rial\">to get past the boundaries \n of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "same time, elsewhere in Fantasia, a creature<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of darkness also began his \n quest.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia has no \n boundaries.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SP", "AN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>appeared on the terrace of the Ivory Tower, he carried with him the \n hopes of all<SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia.\" </P>", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>No, it hasn't. Fantasia can arise in you . <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">What if they really do know \n about me in Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Don't worry. We'll reach the boundaries of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", ";&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia has totally disappeared" ], [ ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n am Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o", "><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN", "P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu has to face his true \n self.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN" ], [ "5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Are you Morla,", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyTextIndent2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0in\">WIDE VIEW: </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2>Atreyu climbs up the muddy mountain and calls \n for Morla several times. The mountain<SPAN \n ", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">To find Morla, the ancient one, the wisest \n being in<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia who’s home was the Shell \n Mountain<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "\n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu grows angry with her) \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", ";&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U><o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks around, as does she. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Well, what is it ? I have to \n know.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Let's hope so, Atreyu. Let's \n hope so.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-" ], [ "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">To find Morla, the ancient one, the wisest \n being in<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia who’s home was the Shell \n Mountain<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAM", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "AN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SP", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN ", "\n align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Not that it matters but \n yes.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN ", "style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN", "nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Bastian:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>Morla the \n ancient one. <o:p></", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Are you Morla,", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Well, we haven't seen the \n Auryn in a long time.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Die ? That at least would be \n something.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "very top of the structure. It is very intricate here. We begin to \n zoom in on the Magnolia pavilion. The very tip of the Ivory Tower, the \n place that the Empress lives.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyTextIndent2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0in\">WIDE VIEW: </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2>Atreyu climbs up the muddy mountain and calls \n for Morla several times. The mountain<SPAN \n ", "AN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Please help me Morla. Do you \n recognize this?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT", "AN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We're tired of sneezing, go away. Nothing \n matters.<o:p></o" ], [ ".5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu jumps off Artax and pulls him along \n through the swamp.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=", "\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu stumbling, exhausted through the \n swamp. He falls several <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">times and has to stop for rest. His shoulder \n really hurts him. Atreyu stumbles <o:p></o:p></SP", "\n Artax, please.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You're letting the sadness of the swamps get to \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", " style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Atreyu trying to save Artax in the \n Swamps of Sadness, Morla, and Falkor, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and more.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW: of Atreyu walking through the swamps \n crying. He stops suddenly and we see a mountain. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyPar", "><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Fight against the sadness Artax.", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu runs through the gate and just barely \n makes it. He turns and looks back, then sighs.<o:p></o:", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then you must know what can \n save Fantasia !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "EmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Suddenly Artax stops and Atreyu pulls on the \n reigns. Artax doesn't budge<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if" ], [ "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>In your dreams and wishes Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "nbsp; </SPAN>Bastian made \n many other wishes and had many other amazing <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SP", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "\n Bastian<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian flops down on his back and sighs. \n", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o", "IN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">Our story begins \n as our young friend awakes from a dream. Bastian quickly sits up as if \n awakening from a nightmare. He looks at a picture of his mom with a sigh \n and then he picks up the book beside him and marks his spot. </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "\n </SPAN>one. Now, Bastian, you're old enough to get your head out of the \n </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; tab-stops: center 3.0in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Call my name ! Bastian, please ! Save us ! <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY" ], [ "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of the surrounding rocks. Atreyu follows him on \n the ground.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n ", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", " style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu. And you're on a \n quest.<", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=" ], [ " <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Is that the Southern Oracle \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyPar", "=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Are you the Southern \n Oracle?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>To \n find a cure for the Empress .....and to save our \n world.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one can give you any advice except this, you \n must go<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "so-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Friends, I know why you are all \n here. The nothing is destroying our world. I also know that you have come \n to beseech the Empress for help. But I, I have terrible news. The Empress \n herself has become deathly ill. There seems to be a mysterious link \n between her illness and the nothing. She is dying. So she cannot save \n us...<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We don't know, but you can ask the Southern \n Oracle.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "IN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Bastian lights a \n candle)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Southern \n Oracle?<o:p></o:", "\n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am the expert on the Southern \n Oracle.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n do not know, but if you fail the Empress will surely \n die<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and our whole world will be \n destroyed.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "0in 85.5pt 0pt 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; tab-stops: 5.0in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>The home of the \n Empress. She's our only hope.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have you ever been to the Southern Oracle \n ?<o:p", "-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Oracle:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Empress needs.... a new \n name.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "BodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 130.5pt 0pt 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>We are on the same mission. After \n all, if the Empress can't save us, who could? </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">So little fella, you're on \n you're way to the Southern Oracle?<o:p></", "\n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am somewhat of an expert on the Southern \n Oracle.<o:p></o:p></SP", "><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I've been studying the mystery of the Southern \n Oracle for<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "AMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>He \n who wears the Auryn speaks for the Empress.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It will guide and protect \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">before you reach the \n Southern Oracle and get me the final<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">information for my book. Of \n course, most people never get<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>the Empress is very \n ill?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o", "-FAMILY: Arial\">They had been traveling aimlessly for almost a \n week,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">but they could not find a cure for the Empress. \n Neither<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SP", "AMILY: Arial\">before the Empress’s \n chamber.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW-<SPAN \n style=\"mso-sp" ], [ "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "IN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">Our story begins \n as our young friend awakes from a dream. Bastian quickly sits up as if \n awakening from a nightmare. He looks at a picture of his mom with a sigh \n and then he picks up the book beside him and marks his spot. </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "<P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">Bastian runs up \n the stairs leading to the<SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>school's attic, finds the key and goes inside. There are all sorts \n of old scholastic objects in the attic. He finds a stack of old gym mats \n and pulls one out. He sits down and pulls out the book, then he begins ", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The school bell rings and Bastian sits up with \n a start. The school day <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: School attic- \n Bastian<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "\n </SPAN>one. Now, Bastian, you're old enough to get your head out of the \n </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; tab-stops: center 3.0in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp" ], [ "\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu stumbling, exhausted through the \n swamp. He falls several <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">times and has to stop for rest. His shoulder \n really hurts him. Atreyu stumbles <o:p></o:p></SP", ".5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu jumps off Artax and pulls him along \n through the swamp.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW: of Atreyu walking through the swamps \n crying. He stops suddenly and we see a mountain. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyPar", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "\n Artax, please.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You're letting the sadness of the swamps get to \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "AN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">into a puddle up to his neck and we see the \n wolf running after him. As Atreyu <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">starts to", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Artax crosses the small stream and wakes up \n Atreyu by nuzzling him. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U", "EmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Suddenly Artax stops and Atreyu pulls on the \n reigns. Artax doesn't budge<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "IN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Sadness. His name was \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "\n wilder until finally it tosses Falkor onto his back, and knocks his \n passenger into the air. Atreyu falls, but Falkor cannot get to him before \n he disappears into the chaos below.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", " Relieved that Atreyu <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">escaped the G’mork and the swamps, but what was \n that creature <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"" ], [ "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia has no \n boundaries.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SP", ":</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Foolish boy. Don't you know \n anything about Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>the more magnificent Fantasia will become.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMIL", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">FADE OUT TO: \n Fantasia<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "rial\">to get past the boundaries \n of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>No, it hasn't. Fantasia can arise in you . <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one from Fantasia can do \n it, only a human child.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Two fragments of Fantasia collide and explode \n shaking the Tower Violently.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "AN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>appeared on the terrace of the Ivory Tower, he carried with him the \n hopes of all<SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia.\" </P>", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Don't worry. We'll reach the boundaries of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "nbsp;</SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 2\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>That \n was the end of Fantasia. Only a few fragments remained \n <o:p", ";&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia has totally disappeared", "=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">What if they really do know \n about me in Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "same time, elsewhere in Fantasia, a creature<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of darkness also began his \n quest.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o", "\n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the world of human \n fantasy. Every part ,every<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">creature of it, is a piece \n of the dreams and hopes of mankind.<o:p></o" ], [ ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Look there it is. The heart of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Two fragments of Fantasia collide and explode \n shaking the Tower Violently.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one from Fantasia can do \n it, only a human child.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", ":</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Foolish boy. Don't you know \n anything about Fantasia?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", "rial\">to get past the boundaries \n of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "can't get \n beyond the boundaries of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork laughs and", "nbsp;</SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 2\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>That \n was the end of Fantasia. Only a few fragments remained \n <o:p", "style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Don't worry. We'll reach the boundaries of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "same time, elsewhere in Fantasia, a creature<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of darkness also began his \n quest.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o", "not just \n in our part of Fantasia? </P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Nighthob:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", ";&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Fantasia has totally disappeared", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians" ], [ "style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pulls his horse along saying reassuring \n things the whole time. <o:p></o:p></SPAN", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-", "\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n am Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Well, what is it ? I have to \n know.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The ground shakes and Atreyu falls over \n backward. He grabs a long, sharp <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">piece of broken stone and stands up. He then \n yells at G'm", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M" ], [ "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have you ever been to the Southern Oracle \n ?<o:p", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">So little fella, you're on \n you're way to the Southern Oracle?<o:p></", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu approaches another two sphinxes. As he \n approaches they start speaking to him.<o:p", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", "><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of the surrounding rocks. Atreyu follows him on \n the ground.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n ", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN", ";<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><" ], [ "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Call my name ! Bastian, please ! Save us ! <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then you must know what can \n save Fantasia !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>To \n find a cure for the Empress .....and to save our \n world.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one can give you any advice except this, you \n must go<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">that saved him? Bastian sits back up and starts \n reading again. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "so-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Friends, I know why you are all \n here. The nothing is destroying our world. I also know that you have come \n to beseech the Empress for help. But I, I have terrible news. The Empress \n herself has become deathly ill. There seems to be a mysterious link \n between her illness and the nothing. She is dying. So she cannot save \n us...<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You know how I can help the Empress don't \n you?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n do not know, but if you fail the Empress will surely \n die<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and our whole world will be \n destroyed.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o" ], [ "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">But why is Fantasia dying \n then ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Below them Fantasia has been reborn. Everything appears as before. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "nbsp;</SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 2\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>That \n was the end of Fantasia. Only a few fragments remained \n <o:p", " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Call my name ! Bastian, please ! Save us ! <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center" ], [ "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">ruins as Atreyu makes his way out of the \n ruins.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SP", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>(Atreyu looks down saddened.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"F", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu runs through the gate and just barely \n makes it. He turns and looks back, then sighs.<o:p></o:", "acerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Atreyu !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">FADE TO- \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu on a lying on a beach. At", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "as]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Atreyu looks up, laughs, and waves as he and Artax are headed for \n home.<o:p></o:p></SP", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">As Atreyu pulls himself up on the ledge he sees \n 2 great sphinx-like statues. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu does fine until he sees the fallen man, \n who is just a charred skeleton. He panics and starts looking back and \n forth between the 2 sphinxes. <o:p></", "\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Atreyu stumbling, exhausted through the \n swamp. He falls several <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">times and has to stop for rest. His shoulder \n really hurts him. Atreyu stumbles <o:p></o:p></SP", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu ignores \n him.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW: of Atreyu walking through the swamps \n crying. He stops suddenly and we see a mountain. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyPar", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Ahead of him is a larce mostly intact building, \n Atreyu dodges falling rocks and <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">enters an opening. <o:p></o:p></SP", ": 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down, feeling terrible. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp", "eyes and zap the man. Atreyu looks up, shocked at the sight he had \n seen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</", ";&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U><o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks around, as does she. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><", "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"" ], [ "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">that saved him? Bastian sits back up and starts \n reading again. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\"", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Call my name ! Bastian, please ! Save us ! <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then you must know what can \n save Fantasia !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>In your dreams and wishes Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "nbsp; </SPAN>Bastian made \n many other wishes and had many other amazing <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SP", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "aveyard of left over pieces of \n Fantasia. Atreyu wakes from <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">his exhaustion and looks around with a heavy \n heart.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", "\n </SPAN>one. Now, Bastian, you're old enough to get your head out of the \n </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; tab-stops: center 3.0in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&" ], [ " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "\n </SPAN>one. Now, Bastian, you're old enough to get your head out of the \n </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in; tab-stops: center 3.0in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian leans over and whispers in his ear. \n Falkor laughs.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Bastian:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Run Atreyu run \n", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: School attic- \n Bastian<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", "acerun: yes\">&nbsp; </SPAN>Bastian. He leans forward and \n whispers <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>In your dreams and wishes Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n " ], [ "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You know how I can help the Empress don't \n you?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Empress giving the Auryn to Carion, Carion \n giving the Auryn to Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu walks up the stairs that lead to the \n Empress's room. The chamber <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", "\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n am Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN", "AMILY: Arial\">then asks him, <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN" ], [ "center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">To find Morla, the ancient one, the wisest \n being in<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Fantasia who’s home was the Shell \n Mountain<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyTextIndent2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0in\">WIDE VIEW: </P>\n <P class=MsoBodyTextIndent2>Atreyu climbs up the muddy mountain and calls \n for Morla several times. The mountain<SPAN \n ", "5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Are you Morla,", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "AN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Morla:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Ahead of him is a larce mostly intact building, \n Atreyu dodges falling rocks and <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">enters an opening. <o:p></o:p></SP", "eyes and zap the man. Atreyu looks up, shocked at the sight he had \n seen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</", "searching for Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Morla:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAM", "![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu clears his throat to get their \n attention<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu pauses as the old man \n continues..<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "Arial\">After days and nights of unconsciousness, \n Atreyu slowly <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">opened his eyes and found himself in strange \n surroundings. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n", "soNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">more and more the surrounding land. Atreyu \n calls out for Falkor and this time Falkor <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">calls back.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu approaches another two sphinxes. As he \n approaches they start speaking to him.<o:p", ";&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U><o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks around, as does she. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><", ">&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu goes to a small entrance and bends down \n to look in. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Bastian:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>Morla the \n ancient one. <o:p></" ], [ "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The eyes open and Bastian cries \n out.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY:", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "in\">NEXT SCENE: Bastians \n school.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN: 0in 189pt 0pt 0.5in\">With the book \n under his shirt Bastian runs through the hall of his school. He stops \n ", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", ":p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO: Bastian’s \n bedroom<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARG", "once been, and of Bastian looking \n up from the book. Both have tears streaming down their face, Bastian blows \n his nose on his handkerchief. Bastian turns the \npage.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\">The man turns away from \n him again. Bastian looks at the book he has. His interest has been \n aroused.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SP", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o", " style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Has ended and everyone is leaving. Bastian \n walks out as the lights turn off. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The attic is spooky, it is dark and stormy. \n Bastian grabs his <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", "\n Bastian<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian flops down on his back and sighs. \n", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Attic window – \n CLOSE UP of Bastian.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp; \n </SPAN>Bastian, why don't you do what you dream, Bastian \n ?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY", "-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Startles Bastian prompting him to leap \n backwards. A wolf head from an old school festival falls down in front of \n him and he screams in terror.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SP", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian leans over and whispers in his ear. \n Falkor laughs.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", "AMILY: Arial\">Bastian:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 1.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center>Oh no \n not again. No not again! (He starts running)</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F" ], [ "Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">My name's Atreyu. I came here to find the \n Southern Oracle", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Then you must know what can \n save Fantasia !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "<P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have you ever been to the Southern Oracle \n ?<o:p", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">You know how I can help the Empress don't \n you?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n ", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(Atreyu shakes his head.) \n No.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Let's hope so, Atreyu. Let's \n hope so.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-", "MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">he alone has a chance to fight the nothing and \n save us. He is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">our only hope. His name is \n Atreyu.<o:p></o:", "o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They can only be reached \n beyond the boundaries<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">of Fantasia. You must hurry \n Atreyu. We do not", "o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks down at the amulet dangling from \n his neck, and gets an idea<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"M", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:</SPAN></U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><o:p></o", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Well, what is it ? I have to \n know.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P", "!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:" ], [ "\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Never ! I'm a luck dragon. \n My name is Falkor.<o:p></o:p></", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", ";&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Falkor !Falkor !Where are \n you? Falkor !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-IND", "ENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Somewhere in the heavens \n Falkor is", ". Falkor opens his \n mouth, and plucks the Auryn<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>from the coral with his \n teeth.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", "\n wilder until finally it tosses Falkor onto his back, and knocks his \n passenger into the air. Atreyu falls, but Falkor cannot get to him before \n he disappears into the chaos below.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of Falkor calling for Atreyu.\" At", "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Bastian riding \n Falkor<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "soNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">more and more the surrounding land. Atreyu \n calls out for Falkor and this time Falkor <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">calls back.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The dragon wakes up as Atreyu runs \n away.<o:p></o:", "\">door begins to open. He pauses and looks back \n at Falkor.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n", ";&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Falkor ! The Ivory Tower \n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "; \n </SPAN>Yea ! Look there they are ! Get 'em Falkor. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They run down the alley and jump into the \n dumpster as Falkor flies by them", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Falkor is tossed around in all directions, \n Atreyu tries to hold on as best as he can. The wind blows wilder and", "MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Falkor !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT", "; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Let's hope so, Atreyu. Let's \n hope so.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-", "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(one of them cries pointing to the alley. They \n start to rest, but Falkor chases <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: A", "Falkor, \n faster.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center" ], [ "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It is the Nothing, the force destroying \n fantasia, and Falkor and Atreyu<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Have ended up right in the center", "></o:p></U></P>\n <P class=MsoBodyText2 \n style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 2in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Oh no. The nothing! </P>\n <P \n class=MsoBodyText2><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></P>\n ", "THE NOTHING. Great masses \n of <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">clouds swirl and churn and collide on the \n screen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"m", "\n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Atreyu:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">What is the nothing \n ?!<o:p", "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">EXT. \n VIEW-<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the courtyard is being taken away by the \n Nothing. Because of Bastians", "been spared by the Nothing. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">We span over all its beautiful features before \n we come to rest at the court <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F", "SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am the servant of the \n power behind the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAM", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu comes out of an opening and latches onto \n a tree as the Nothing consumes <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Falkor:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Look Atreyu, the \n nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", "-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(G'mork laughs.) Brave \n warrior, then fight the nothing", "nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;</SPAN>Falkor, it's \n like the nothing never was.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Hurry Falkor, the nothing's \n everywhere.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class", "SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the emptiness that's", "ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Now and you must hurry \n Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">the nothing grows stronger \n everyday.<o:p></o:p", "new <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">found disbelief the Nothing has grown stronger \n and is now attacking the last remaining part of \n Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>of this once rich and \n beautiful world had been left by the nothing.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "style=\"MARGIN: 0in 117pt 0pt 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>No, a hole would be something. Nah, \n it was nothing. And it got bigger and bigger. First there was no lake \n anymore and then finally, no rocks.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>safer skies. But that was all there \n was left, below them the Nothing enveloped the remaining pieces of land. \n Fantasia was gone.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal" ], [ ";&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</SPAN>One \n grain of sand. It is all that remains of my vast \n empire.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center", "very top of the structure. It is very intricate here. We begin to \n zoom in on the Magnolia pavilion. The very tip of the Ivory Tower, the \n place that the Empress lives.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "AMILY: Arial\">before the Empress’s \n chamber.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><U><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW-<SPAN \n style=\"mso-sp", "><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>the Empress is very \n ill?<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o", "0in 85.5pt 0pt 1in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; tab-stops: 5.0in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>The home of the \n Empress. She's our only hope.</P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:", "></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">She puts the grain into his hand and he looks \n at it.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P", "where it cracked, then he turns back to the \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Empress.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 1.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in", "-FAMILY: Arial\">They had been traveling aimlessly for almost a \n week,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">but they could not find a cure for the Empress. \n Neither<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SP", "AMILY: Arial\"><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>He \n who wears the Auryn speaks for the Empress.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It will guide and protect \n you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN", ". Before him was the Childlike Empress in person. She sits silently on \n her bed, her gaze never leaves Atreyu.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN:", "FAMILY: Arial\">INT. VIEW- Ivory \n Tower- The Empresses court<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN: 0in 225pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN ", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>To \n find a cure for the Empress .....and to save our \n world.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">No one can give you any advice except this, you \n must go<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>I \n do not know, but if you fail the Empress will surely \n die<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">and our whole world will be \n destroyed.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center", "so-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Friends, I know why you are all \n here. The nothing is destroying our world. I also know that you have come \n to beseech the Empress for help. But I, I have terrible news. The Empress \n herself has become deathly ill. There seems to be a mysterious link \n between her illness and the nothing. She is dying. So she cannot save \n us...<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal", "Normal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Empress<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style", "></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The Empress giving the Auryn to Carion, Carion \n giving the Auryn to Atreyu,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n", "\n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The door to the Empress's room opens into the \n courtyard. Lots of creatures from Fantasia await help from the Empress. \n The Empress's head servant comes out of her room and speaks to them all. \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:", "; \n </SPAN><U>Empress Moonchild:<o:p></o:p></U></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 2in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN>In the beginning it is always dark.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><SPAN style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</SPAN>I have \n failed you Empress.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", " </SPAN><U>Empress Moonchild:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&" ], [ "]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW - Falkor with \n Atreyu on his back. They are flying over Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></", "></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">to them and Rockbiter waves back. They change \n their direction and suddenly below them is a great endless field, the \n Great Plains. Bastian looks down and sees a familiar face from his \n imagination, only now its real.<o:p></o:p></SPAN", "\n wilder until finally it tosses Falkor onto his back, and knocks his \n passenger into the air. Atreyu falls, but Falkor cannot get to him before \n he disappears into the chaos below.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=M", "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">CUT TO- Bastian riding \n Falkor<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab", "style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </SPAN>starts \n moving and he grabs a tree branch. The branch breaks and he slides down \n the mountain, hurting his shoulder. He lands in the swamp ground below and \n turns and crawls away to a tree nearby that faces the mountain. He climbs \n it and sees a giant turtle head coming out of the mountain. Bastian \n screams and Atreyu and Morla look around. </P>\n <P", "soNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">more and more the surrounding land. Atreyu \n calls out for Falkor and this time Falkor <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">calls back.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>", "a while, he sees Bastian \n reading the story. Bastian looks up then <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">throws the book across the \n room.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-", "MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.75pt\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They fly over Rockbiter, the Nighthob, and the \n little man. Bastian waves <o:p", "FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">View of the three bullies talking out on the \n street where they had chased Bastian the day before. They look up at the \n sky as Falkor and Bastian appear and start chasing them. They \n scream…<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]", "\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Falkor is tossed around in all directions, \n Atreyu tries to hold on as best as he can. The wind blows wilder and", "\">door begins to open. He pauses and looks back \n at Falkor.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n", "]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(The sphinxes start crumbling. Atreyu runs away \n calling for Falkor.)<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas", ">\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">VIEW of Falkor and \n Atreyu. The sky is gray and is incredibly windy. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Great storm clouds can be seen all around \n churning and expanding.<o:p></o:p></", "0in 117pt 0pt 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>Bastian watches him. As he talks on \n the phone Bastian uncovers the book. The title on the book reads, The \n Neverending Story. above these words is a symbol on the cover. The symbol \n is two snakes intertwined with each other and biting each other's tail. As \n the old man hangs up the phone, Bastian grabs the", ":p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">They run down the alley and jump into the \n dumpster as Falkor flies by them", "-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Bastian leans over and whispers in his ear. \n Falkor laughs.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"F", "=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>the sky, searching frantically for \n his friend Falkor, but Falkor is <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">not there. <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n", "\n !<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu looks straight ahead and Bastian calls \n out.<o", ": Arial\">Darkness, pure and black as night. We hear \n Bastian speak.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT", "FAMILY: Arial\">The window bursts open and Bastian climbs up \n and closes it. Against a torrent of rain and wind. Finally he gets the \n window closed and he looks down at the book, he is soaked, and a bit \n winded at his experience. Then he remembers the story \n hero.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-F" ], [ "p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style", "AN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">I am G'mork. And you, \n whoever you are,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">can have the honor of being \n my last victim.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=", ".5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">heart, killing the G’mork. As Atreyu pulls \n himself from the carcass of the G’mork,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>", "p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork arrives were they had been and catches \n <o:p></o:p></SPAN></", "1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><U><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G’mork:<o:p></o:p></SPAN></U></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in;", "FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork", "\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SP", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></", "supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork growls and jumps at him. Atreyu plunges \n the sharp rock into the beasts <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0", "-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(G'mork laughs.) Brave \n warrior, then fight the nothing", "SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>G’mork:</U><o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">It's the emptiness that's", "can't get \n beyond the boundaries of Fantasia.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">G'mork laughs and", " Relieved that Atreyu <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">escaped the G’mork and the swamps, but what was \n that creature <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"", "AN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Atreyu or his horse, Artax, had the vaguest \n suspicion<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">that the creature of darkness, the G'mork, was \n already<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=Mso", "style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">The ground shakes and Atreyu falls over \n backward. He grabs a long, sharp <o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">piece of broken stone and stands up. He then \n yells at G'm", "Atreyu finds that the beast managed \n to inflict a wound on Atreyu. He stands and<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in\"><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\">&nbsp;</SPAN>winces at the deep gash across his \n chest. Another crash echoes through the <o:p></o:p", "eyes and zap the man. Atreyu looks up, shocked at the sight he had \n seen.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: center\" align=center><SPAN \n style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><SPAN \n style=\"mso-tab-count: 1\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \n </SPAN><U>Engywook:</", ": 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]>&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">(motioning behind \n Atreyu.)<o", "d rather die fighting.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal style=\"MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" \n align=center><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\">Come for me G'mork ! I am \n Atreyu!<o:p></o:p></SPAN></P>\n <P class=MsoNormal><SPAN style=\"FONT-FAMILY: Arial\"><![if !" ] ]

[ "What world is being devoured by \"The Nothing\"?", "Where is Atreyu forced to leave his horse, Artax?", "Whose image does Atreyu see in the mirror that reveals the true self?", "What does Atreyu lose in the Sea of Possibilities?", "What is the purpose of the AURYN?", "What is Fantasia representative of?", "When the Empress speaks to Bastian directly, what does she ask him to do?", "What is left of Fantasia when Bastian awakens in blackness with the Empress?", "Who does Bastian bring back to the real world to fight off his bullies?", "What is the name of the land described in the book?", "What force is devouring Fantasia?", "Who is tasked to find the cure for the Childlike Empress's illness?", "What is the name of Atreyu's medallion?", "What does The Nothing summon to stop Atreyu?", "Who does Atreyu lose in the Swamp of Sadness?", "What is Morla?", "Who does Atreyu see in the mirror that shows his true self?", "What does the Gmork say the Fantasia represents?", "What does Bastion wish for at the end?", "What does the Nothing represent?", "Who is responsible for spreading the Nothing?", "Who recreates Fantasia?", "What is Atreyu's direct task?", "Where does Morla suggest that Atreyu seek the answers she lacks?", "Where does Morla live?", "Who saves Atreyu from the Swamp of Sadness when he gives in to the exhaustion?", "What does Bastian wish for?", "What protects Atreyu on his quest?", "What does the Southern Oracle say will save the Empress?", "Why does Bastian enter a bookstore at the beginning of the story?", "Who does Atreyu lose in the swamp?", "What is Fantasia?", "What is destroying Fantasia?", "What is Atreyu given at the beginning of his quest?", "How far must Atreyu travel to reach the Southern Oracle?", "How can Bastian save the empress?", "How much of Fantasia is left after Bastian calls out the empresses new name?", "What does Atreyu see at the shore of the abounded ruins?", "What does Bastian wish for after saving Fantasia?", "Why did Bastian leave a note for Mr. Coreander?", "What task was given to Atreyu by the Empress?", "Where does Atreya find the adviser Morla?", "What happens when Bastian lets out a scream?", "How does the Southeren Oracle tell Atreyu to save the Empress?", "What type creature is Falkor?", "What is represented by The Nothing?", "What is the grain of sand that the Empress has?", "What does Bastian see while flying on Falkor's back?", "Who killed Gmork?" ]

[ [ "Fantasia", "Fantasia" ], [ "Swamps of Sadness", "The swamp." ], [ "Bastian", "Bastian's" ], [ "The AURYN", "AURYN" ], [ "Protection", "To guide and protect " ], [ "Humanity's imagination", "Humanity's imagination." ], [ "Call out her name", "She asked him to call out her new name." ], [ "A grain of sand", "a grain of sand" ], [ "Falkor", "Falkor" ], [ "Fantasia", "Fantasia" ], [ "The Nothing", "The Nothing" ], [ "Atreyu", "Atreyu" ], [ "AURYN", "Auryn" ], [ "Gmork", "Consumes the ruins. " ], [ "Artax, his horse", "His horse. " ], [ "A giant turtle", "A giant turtle" ], [ "Bastion", "Bastian" ], [ "Humanity's imagination", "Humanity's imagination." ], [ "For Falkor to come to the real world and stop his bullies", "To bring Falkor back to the real world." ], [ "adult apathy and cynacism", "adult cynicism that wipes out childhood imagination" ], [ "Gmork", "Loss of imagination" ], [ "Bastian", "Bastian" ], [ "To find a cure for the Empress' illness", "Discover a cure" ], [ "The Southern Oracle", "Visit the Southern Oracle ten thousand miles away." ], [ "The Swamp of Sadness", "In the swamp of sadness " ], [ "Falkor", "Falkor the luckdragon" ], [ "Falkor to come to his reality to get revenge on the bullies by scaring them", "To bring Falkor to the real world to get rid of his bullies" ], [ "The medallion AURYN", "The AURYN" ], [ "She can be saved by a child outside of Fantasia giving her a new name outside of Fantasia", "A human child." ], [ "To escape from bullies.", "hiding from bullies" ], [ "His horse Artex.", "His horse Artax" ], [ "Humanity's imagination", "Another world" ], [ "A force called \"The Nothing\"", "The Nothing" ], [ "A medallion that will guide protect him.", "A medallion named the AURYN." ], [ "Ten thousand miles.", "10,000 miles" ], [ "By giving her a new name from anywhere outside of Fantasia.", "By finding a child to give her a new name." ], [ "A single grain of sand.", "About the size of a small grain of sand." ], [ "A group of paintings showing his quest.", "Paintings." ], [ "To bring Falkor back to his world to get back at his bullies.", "that Falkor would come back to his world and defeat the bullies" ], [ "Because he borrowed the book Mr. Coreander advised him not to take.", "He took a book." ], [ "To find a cure for her illness", "To give her a new name" ], [ "Morla was in the Swamp of Sadness", "The swamp" ], [ "Atreyu and Morla appear to hear the scream.", "Atreyu and Morle hear it" ], [ "Find a human child to give her a new name.", "Giving her a new name" ], [ "Falkor is a Luckdragon.", "A luck dragon" ], [ "The Nothing represents adult apathy and cynicism. ", "the loss of imagination and creativity to adulthood cynicism" ], [ "The grain of sand is all that is remaining of Fantasia.", "All that is left of Fantasia" ], [ "He sees the inhabitants of Fantasia restored.", "Fantasia." ], [ "Atreyu killed Gmork.", "Atreyu" ] ]

[ [ "with me, please.\n \n Case strides off.\n \n INT. MISSION CONTROL, UNDERGROUND HANGAR -- DAY\n \n The lights dim as Brand's father brings up a schematic of\n our solar system. Case points to the picture of the ice\n planet recovered from the probe.\n \n CASE\n You're right, Mr. Cooper. The planet\n you saw is a long way from earth. A\n very long way indeed.\n \n Brand looks down", "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "ung mission.\n \n BRAND\n The Mars mission? The Chinese claimed\n it had been destroyed on landing.\n \n Cooper looks over the relay log.\n \n COOPER\n They never landed. Not on Mars.\n Four human crew, fifteen robots.\n The log says the base has been here\n for thirty years.\n \n Case's familiar voice comes through the radio.\n \n CASE (O.S.)\n I've found something.\n 74.\n ", "my resources\n are devoted to human anatomy. Ten\n percent is the mission protocol.\n The rest is human psychology.\n \n COOPER\n Why?\n \n CASE\n We are floating in a total vacuum in\n a plastic ship powered by nuclear\n engines. But the most dangerous\n thing onboard is the three pounds of\n organic material in your skull.\n \n COOPER\n If we're such a liability, why take\n us along? You and Tars could build\n the colony", "ing\n the ice planet.\n \n The rocket fires to maneuver closer and closer to the moon's\n surface -- the tiny moon doesn't provide enough gravity to\n attract it.\n \n When the rocket is close enough, Roth detonates the explosive\n bolts holding him inside and leaps for the moon's surface.\n \n He scrambles to grab hold of the craggy surface. Behind\n him, the rocket smashes apart against the surface.\n \n Roth finally gets a good", "ged\n in a close embrace with the ice planet, only a few hundred\n thousand feet from the surface.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n The lander touches down on the ghostly surface of the planet.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n After a moment, the hatch HISSES open and the team steps\n out, led by Case, holding a rifle.\n \n The team sets out, moving slowly", "forming a crude two-stage rocket\n designed more for a robot than a man.\n \n When it's complete Roth wedges himself inside, clutching the\n black box -- he barely fits.\n \n ROTH\n I can reach one of the moons in low\n orbit and turn up its gravity. As\n it passes overhead it should be able\n to slingshot the lander away from\n the planet's surface.\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Along with everything else.\n ", "we need to keep them here\n until afterwards.\n \n COOPER\n You can't keep us here.\n 33.\n \n BRAND\n He could endanger the mission.\n \n COOPER\n I'm not going to endanger it any\n more than you already have.\n \n Cooper points to a telemetry unit that is being repaired by\n a robot on a nearby bench.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Are you using that for guidance", "view -- the distant hulk of\n Gargantua rising over the horizon of the shining ice planet.\n \n He takes a final breath and activates the black box.\n \n Instantly, the moon's gravity is magnified a hundred million\n times over. Roth is instantly crushed as the moon collapses\n around him into a tiny sphere.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand are only thirty yards or so from the lander.\n \n ", " \n CASE\n How are you feeling?\n \n COOPER\n Fine. The anesthetic is working.\n \n CASE\n No -- I mean how is your mood? You\n seem to be developing good relations\n with everyone on the mission. Except\n perhaps Ms. Brand.\n \n COOPER\n (EMBARRASSED)\n You worry about my hand and I'll\n worry about my mood.\n \n CASE\n Only five percent of", "We don't belong\n in any one place. Can't you see\n that now? Not Earth. Not this place.\n Nowhere. If the human race is going\n to survive, we need to keep moving.\n Split up. Spread out. Fly. With\n this, we can.\n \n Case looks at the box. Makes a decision.\n \n CASE\n In the morning we're taking this and\n going home.\n \n Doyle, Roth and Case set about making preparations to", " \n The robot looks up. This is CASE, the leader of the mission.\n Originally an air force pararescue officer, every part of\n him, from his alloy chassis to his voice, was designed to\n inspire respect and confidence. He turns to Cooper.\n \n CASE\n You're the man who brought us the\n probe?\n (off his look)\n Thank you. We tested the telemetry\n board you warned us about. It failed\n under high voltage, just as you said.\n Come", "\n Black holes are a more stable supply\n of power than stars in many ways.\n \n COOPER\n You really think there's a plan?\n \n BRAND\n I hope so.\n (looks at him)\n You don't?\n \n COOPER\n I guess I just think we're on our\n own.\n \n Cooper looks at the impossibly complicated system of black\n holes orbiting each other.\n \n EXT. LAGRANGE PO", "from the ice planet is belted securely\n into one of the seats, filled with the garbled machine code\n of the gravitational machine.\n \n COOPER\n The probe...\n \n Doyle looks back.\n \n DOYLE\n We get back to earth, you and I can\n try to make sense of the code.\n Rebuild the gravity machine.\n \n Cooper stares at it, suddenly realizing something. He\n unbuckles himself.\n \n Cooper stands and walks over", "\n \n ROTH\n They came back here and tried to use\n these devices to save this planet.\n But they didn't work. Nothing would\n be strong enough to weaken a black\n hole.\n \n BRAND\n Maybe we could work with it. Try to\n improve it.\n \n ROTH\n No. You're missing the bigger\n picture. The robots had strict\n mission parameters. They were told\n to build a colony and report back.\n They tried", "Suddenly, the ground beneath them begins to RUMBLE.\n \n Cooper turns back. A mile back the ground begins to tear\n apart, heaving massive chunks of ice and rock into the sky.\n \n Roth's moon is racing overhead, TEARING up a massive strip\n of the surface's planet as it nears them.\n \n Cooper and Brand run.\n \n EXT. MOON, SPACE OVER ICE PLANET\n \n The energy being unleashed by the tiny box is incredible --", "'t help you. I have\n responsibilities. Things that, no\n offense, are more important than a\n scientific mission.\n \n Case shakes his head.\n \n CASE\n I'm not a scientist, Mr. Cooper.\n And this is not a scientific mission.\n It's a rescue mission.\n \n He rises and shakes Cooper's hand.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n Brand can show you the way out. I\n hope you'll re", "trying\n to help us.\n \n Brand looks satisfied.\n \n DOYLE\n So you think we'll have no problem\n navigating between two massive black\n holes to a tiny planet?\n \n ROTH\n I think we'll probably be killed.\n (off his look)\n I said I thought there was a plan.\n Not that the plan was for us to find\n a planet like Earth to save a handful\n of people.\n (SHAKES HEAD)\n ", "There's\n still time...\n \n The ship's controls TONE in ALARM. Brand and Cooper turn:\n \n Case is standing at the controls.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Case... what are you doing?\n \n Case finishes typing in a sequence on the command controls.\n Presses the \"execute\" button.\n \n The last nuclear engine begins to detach from the ship.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Wait... no..." ], [ "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "can climb up the\n mountains back to the ice. We're\n down to three suits. We'll have to\n send someone ahead to get a fourth.\n 81.\n \n BRAND\n I won't need one.\n \n DOYLE\n Why not?\n \n BRAND\n Because I'm not going anywhere.\n This is our new home.\n \n Brand picks up some of her instruments and a sample case and\n hikes into the jungle.\n", " \n COOPER\n Not you?\n \n BRAND\n I'm a biologist.\n 35.\n \n COOPER\n (LAUGHS)\n You don't look like one.\n (off her look)\n With the rifle, I mean.\n \n Brand heads towards a group of large maintenance ROBOTS\n clustered at the base of the rocket. A smaller, human sized\n robot is staring at the rocket, giving them instructions.\n ", "the rest of these people.\n \n Cooper notices through the glass door of the lab that Brand\n and the older engineer are arguing about something. She\n finally relents and walks towards the door.\n \n Brand walks in. She gestures for Cooper to follow.\n \n BRAND\n The mission commander wants to see\n you. Your son can stay here. He'll\n be all right with Tars.\n \n Cooper eyes Tars warily. Then steps outside.\n \n EXT. UND", " \n BRAND\n A pocket formed by gas. There may\n be more below.\n \n The ice below them reveals nothing but murky blackness.\n Case has found some of the equipment left behind by the\n Chinese -- a battery-powered drill and a pick.\n \n DOYLE\n We'll never make it far enough down.\n \n BRAND\n Shut up. How much time do we have,\n Roth?\n \n Roth checks his watch with his usual detachment", "irling through the\n compartment.\n \n Brand walks in. They sit in silence for a moment. When\n Cooper speaks, it's clear his sadness has faded to a gallows\n humor.\n \n COOPER\n Not a single drink on the whole ship.\n What kind of mission is this?\n \n BRAND\n I think Doyle's been experimenting\n with the coolant from his spacesuit.\n \n They sit in silence for a moment.\n \n COOPER", "Cooper. We're\n telling you this because I want you\n to join us.\n \n Cooper looks at him. Is he serious?\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n The probe has taken a great deal\n longer to return to us than we hoped.\n (MORE)\n 37.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n Dr. Brand's Father and several other\n members of our crew have gotten...\n older.\n \n Brand's Father looks down,", "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", "Brand's sudden friendliness.\n \n COOPER\n Why?\n \n BRAND\n Because it lowers your blood pressure.\n 55.\n \n Cooper looks at his hand. Blood is pouring out of his palm\n in large glistening bubbles.\n \n INT. INFIRMARY, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper, slightly embarrassed, is seated while Case is hunched\n over his hand, sewing the meat of it back together with\n perfect little stitches.\n", "...\n you want to know why I don't believe\n that someone would be trying to help\n us? Because I'm not sure we're worth\n saving.\n \n They sit in silence for a while.\n \n EXT. CAVE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper sleeps. After a moment, Brand steps back out into\n the darkness.\n \n EXT. PLAIN -- DAWN\n \n Brand exhales great streams of frosted breath -- the\n temperature is well below freezing.", "Brand?\n \n She's nowhere to be seen. Cooper looks out onto the ice.\n Brand is heading back out into the snow.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Dammit. If I don't make it back,\n just keep going.\n (points to probe)\n Get that thing home.\n \n Cooper steps to the door.\n \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The rocket tucks in close behind one of the moons orbit", "'t help you. I have\n responsibilities. Things that, no\n offense, are more important than a\n scientific mission.\n \n Case shakes his head.\n \n CASE\n I'm not a scientist, Mr. Cooper.\n And this is not a scientific mission.\n It's a rescue mission.\n \n He rises and shakes Cooper's hand.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n Brand can show you the way out. I\n hope you'll re", "the raised gravity.\n \n COOPER\n Looks like hard work.\n \n BRAND\n It's a paradox. Life couldn't form\n without gravity. No stars. No\n planets. The component pieces would\n just drift apart. But too much of\n it and you're trapped.\n \n Brand's guard relaxes a tiny bit as she talks about her work.\n The moment passes quickly, and she continues on into the\n stack of equipment.\n \n INT. MISSION CON", "hole\n shields the planet's surface from it\n for twenty hours at a stretch. Time's\n about up.\n \n Even Brand looks rattled.\n \n BRAND\n How long do we have left?\n \n ROTH\n About five minutes.\n \n COOPER\n Then what?\n \n BRAND\n Then we die. The radiation will\n cook us alive.\n \n Cooper looks around, their predicament settling in.", " on the probe's memory. Cooper watches.\n \n BRAND'S FATHER\n It's noise. I know it's noise. But\n it looks too orderly. Probably just\n an old man seeing things.\n 50.\n \n He shuts down the monitor.\n \n INT. UNDERGROUND HANGAR -- DAY\n \n The crew file into the capsule, wearing their bulky\n spacesuits.\n \n Cooper watches as Brand's Father se", "Brand, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n You knew, didn't you? You and Case\n figured it out when we landed.\n \n Brand looks down.\n \n BRAND\n I thought... I couldn't be sure.\n \n COOPER\n Sure you could. You're brilliant.\n You know everything.\n 114.\n \n BRAND\n Cooper... we needed to keep going.\n I'm so sorry. Your children...\n ", "is in disbelief, staring as a\n lifetime's training and optimism are torn to pieces.\n 96.\n \n BRAND\n But I don't understand... why are we\n here? What are we here for?\n \n Cooper looks down. Brand's upset is turning to anger.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n What the hell are we here for? I\n trained my whole life to reach this\n place.\n \n She looks at Cooper, questioning.\n", "heartbroken. Roth smiles.\n 107.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n I understand the plan, now. Whatever\n happens, you have to keep exploring.\n Keep learning. One good idea isn't\n enough. You'll need more and more\n of them just to survive. Do you\n understand?\n \n BRAND\n (NODS)\n Thank you.\n \n ROTH\n Go.\n \n Brand turns to follow Cooper", " BRAND\n This isn't right, Roth. We can find\n a way for all of us to leave.\n \n ROTH\n This is the only way. Keep the lander\n upright and fire the secondary\n boosters when the moon passes\n overhead.\n \n COOPER\n Let me take it.\n \n ROTH\n No. You need to make it home. You're\n going to need to build more of these.\n \n Brand looks at him,", ".\n Try to get myself up to speed on the\n new systems.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR\n I don't want you to take this the\n wrong way, Mr. Cooper -- like I\n said, you're a hero. But the truth\n is we have somewhat limited resources.\n \n Cooper remembers this conversation. He looks down.\n \n COOPER\n No one's heard anything from Brand?\n \n ADMINISTRATOR\n I'm sorry. Off" ], [ " \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The lander detaches from Endurance, rolls over on its belly,\n and FIRES thrusters to sink towards the planet's surface.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n The crew watches, fascinated, as the ship descends, navigating\n between the moons that hurtle past.\n \n The moons are vastly different than our own; potato shaped\n and only one to two miles in circumference, they are hug", "ing\n the ice planet.\n \n The rocket fires to maneuver closer and closer to the moon's\n surface -- the tiny moon doesn't provide enough gravity to\n attract it.\n \n When the rocket is close enough, Roth detonates the explosive\n bolts holding him inside and leaps for the moon's surface.\n \n He scrambles to grab hold of the craggy surface. Behind\n him, the rocket smashes apart against the surface.\n \n Roth finally gets a good", "ice-covered planet Cooper saw earlier\n pops onto the screen.\n \n The engineers and physicists get very quiet, studying the\n images.\n \n DOYLE\n It found something.\n (READING)\n Very thin nitrogen-based atmosphere.\n Trace radiation. Surface is ninety\n percent frozen water. Ten percent\n rock -- sedimentary composition\n similar to limestone.\n (READING)\n Wow. Pockets of oxygen below the\n surface. Lots and lots of oxygen", "in their cumbersome suits.\n \n Lit by the nebula, the surroundings are a little brighter\n than a full moon on Earth.\n \n Not that there's much to look at. They are standing on a\n sea of ice, which spreads for miles. In the distance, small\n rock formations break through the ice.\n \n Brand takes a surface reading of the ice.\n \n BRAND\n (RADIO)\n The probe was right. Looks like\n significant amounts of oxygen", "down from their suits and are\n breathing in the pure oxygen atmosphere.\n \n Case and Cooper are pulling modular pieces from their\n equipment packs to form a small shelter.\n \n Brand is taking readings with her instruments.\n \n BRAND\n Oxygen atmosphere. Pure water.\n Temperate climate.\n (TO COOPER)\n You still think this is a coincidence?\n \n Cooper looks at the tree line, less convinced.\n \n COOPER\n Looks like we", "forming a crude two-stage rocket\n designed more for a robot than a man.\n \n When it's complete Roth wedges himself inside, clutching the\n black box -- he barely fits.\n \n ROTH\n I can reach one of the moons in low\n orbit and turn up its gravity. As\n it passes overhead it should be able\n to slingshot the lander away from\n the planet's surface.\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Along with everything else.\n ", " He smiles, forgetting their predicament for a moment. They\n stare into each other's eyes.\n \n Then they begin, very gently, to fall back towards the ice\n planet.\n \n Suddenly, the lander maneuvers beneath them. The airlock\n opens to catch them -- Doyle is at the helm.\n \n Brand and Cooper pull themselves aboard.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n Cooper closes the door and Doyle rotates the lander outwards.\n \n", " \n Cooper looks at her, confused. As he does, the entire rocket\n SHAKES as the primary rockets begin to fire.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n If we find a habitable environment,\n I'm staying behind to build the\n colony.\n \n Brand wipes her tears away and settles into the same fearless\n mask she usually wears. She steals one last look out the\n window at Earth, then looks back.\n \n Cooper begins to say something, but stops", ".\n \n Cooper begins to argue, then stops. He knows enough history\n to know she's right. He looks at the withering crops.\n \n COOPER\n (QUIET)\n That's why you're looking for a planet\n with oxygen. Water.\n \n BRAND\n A new home for humanity. We'll set\n up a colony, then return to bring\n more people across.\n \n COOPER\n But you'd still only be able to save", "(CONT'D)\n Roth was right, Cooper. We have to\n keep going. Keep exploring. We\n have an obligation to try to survive.\n From here we could find a thousand\n places where life could thrive. And\n you're going to return to the one\n place where it can't.\n \n COOPER\n I made a promise.\n \n He turns away from her, resolute.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper and Doyle", ".\n (EXCITED)\n This could be the one, boss.\n \n The older engineer studies the image of the ice-covered\n planet, thinking.\n \n COOPER\n There aren't any planets like that\n anywhere near earth. Not even if\n this thing was gone for thirty years.\n \n Brand looks at Cooper, appraising. She turns to the older\n engineer.\n \n BRAND\n He's heard enough. If we're going\n to launch,", " Let's go find out.\n \n Case programs a course that will lock the ship in orbit above\n the probes on the surface.\n \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The ship settles into orbit a few hundred kilometers above\n the surface of the ice planet. It can't get any closer:\n \n The space below it is choked with hundreds of tiny moons --\n a cruder version of Saturn's rings. The moons are hurtling\n around the", " Chinese base camp? One of us could\n fit into it.\n 105.\n \n BRAND\n It doesn't matter how many of us\n make it. We have to get this back\n to earth.\n \n Roth looks at the moons orbiting overhead.\n \n ROTH\n Can the secondary thrusters still\n fire on the lander?\n \n Doyle looks over the craft.\n \n DOYLE\n Sure. But we don't have", "Z ISLAND, a large, uninhabited island.\n \n As Cooper soars over the island, the probe HUMS, insistent.\n \n MURPH\n I think it's home.\n \n Cooper circles the island until he finds a long, flat\n grassland in the center of the island.\n \n EXT. FIELD, SANTA CRUZ ISLAND -- DAY\n \n The plane bounces and hops to a halt in waist-deep grass.\n ", "view -- the distant hulk of\n Gargantua rising over the horizon of the shining ice planet.\n \n He takes a final breath and activates the black box.\n \n Instantly, the moon's gravity is magnified a hundred million\n times over. Roth is instantly crushed as the moon collapses\n around him into a tiny sphere.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand are only thirty yards or so from the lander.\n \n ", "move here from planetary colonies\n all the time.\n 147.\n \n COOPER\n Where... where are we?\n \n DOCTOR\n Like I said. It was a coincidence.\n There was a facility closer to Earth,\n but they had a problem, so you wound\n up here.\n (off his look)\n This is the Space Station Joseph A.\n Cooper.\n \n Cooper takes in the incredible surroundings. A thousand\n feet above them, black specks are sprink", "ged\n in a close embrace with the ice planet, only a few hundred\n thousand feet from the surface.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n The lander touches down on the ghostly surface of the planet.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n After a moment, the hatch HISSES open and the team steps\n out, led by Case, holding a rifle.\n \n The team sets out, moving slowly", "can climb up the\n mountains back to the ice. We're\n down to three suits. We'll have to\n send someone ahead to get a fourth.\n 81.\n \n BRAND\n I won't need one.\n \n DOYLE\n Why not?\n \n BRAND\n Because I'm not going anywhere.\n This is our new home.\n \n Brand picks up some of her instruments and a sample case and\n hikes into the jungle.\n", "Pantagruel, the\n sky slowing as the orbit grows longer.\n \n Finally, a tiny speck of light appears in front of the ship.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Roth watches as the Endurance races back away from the black\n hole and into a perfect orbit around a tiny ice planet.\n \n Roth looks up from his screen, smiling.\n \n ROTH\n We're here.\n \n INT. OBSERV", "with me, please.\n \n Case strides off.\n \n INT. MISSION CONTROL, UNDERGROUND HANGAR -- DAY\n \n The lights dim as Brand's father brings up a schematic of\n our solar system. Case points to the picture of the ice\n planet recovered from the probe.\n \n CASE\n You're right, Mr. Cooper. The planet\n you saw is a long way from earth. A\n very long way indeed.\n \n Brand looks down" ], [ "back towards the\n dark side of the planet, out of view of the neutron star,\n and back towards the original wormhole.\n \n DOYLE\n I'm setting a course for the wormhole.\n \n They're going to make it.\n \n Cooper and Brand make eye contact -- Brand gives him a tiny\n awkward smile. He returns it, then descends below.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper props Case up against the workbench. He pulls down", "\n \n INT. CAPSULE\n \n Cooper looks through the tiny porthole into inky blackness.\n \n As they get closer, he makes out a looming matte black\n structure that passes light from the stars directly through.\n \n In the center of the structure, Cooper can see a globe-like\n ship covered in the same refractive material: the ENDURANCE.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n The door cracks open and equalizes with a HISS. Case", " \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper watches the comms screen. After a moment it TONES as\n it receives a data packet from Earth.\n \n CASE\n Everyone take their station for\n transit. We're heading into the\n wormhole mouth.\n \n Cooper and the rest begin folding away equipment in the\n control room and moving into the outer layer of the ship.\n \n Case initiates a sequence on the keypad and the nuclear\n ", "an arm and pats Cooper on the shoulder.\n \n INT. ENDURANCE, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper and the others haul themselves into the ship. To\n Cooper's surprise, it's quite compact, and divided into two\n chambers, like nestled spheres.\n \n COOPER\n The ship is tiny.\n \n Doyle, squeezing past him, smiles at Cooper's surprise.\n \n DOYLE\n So is the wormhole.\n \n Doyle", "INT, SPACE\n \n Behind the ship, the sun is a distant light, not much bigger\n than the other stars.\n \n CASE (O.S.)\n We've reached the wormhole.\n \n The ship slows as it nears a tiny, crystal mouth, just four\n meters or so in diameter.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Case looks at the wormhole on the screen. It glows with the\n light of stars billions of light", "Tars is thrown backwards from the explosion, tumbling through\n space as the ship is ROCKETED upwards.\n \n INT. ENDURANCE\n \n The ship is SLAMMED by the explosion. Cooper and the rest\n of the crew are SMASHED against the hull. Doyle is knocked\n unconscious. Brand steps over to him and cradles his head,\n trying to protect him.\n \n On Roth's model, the course slowly pushes outward, out of\n the danger zone, back to the original delicate", "engines disengage themselves from the ship.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The nuclear engines drift a safe distance back from the ship\n and then snap tight on their tether.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew move into the tight, claustrophobic outer layer of\n the ship. They will have very little room as the ship passes\n through the wormhole.\n \n Tars detaches his legs in order to take up less space during", "\n seconds. If we overshoot we could\n be pulled into the bigger hole.\n \n Roth moves to the controls.\n \n CASE\n Secure yourselves. The ship should\n be able to withstand the blast.\n \n COOPER\n What about Tars?\n \n As the crew watches, Tars continues to hold the engine even\n as the casing around it begins to melt. Finally, it EXPLODES.\n \n EXT. SPACE\n \n ", "station, built onto the surface of the\n sphere.\n \n EXT. SPACE STATION\n \n The Endurance glides to a gentle stop on one of the upper\n decks of the space station.\n \n After a moment, the airlock to the ship opens and Cooper and\n the others step out, in their suits.\n \n They walk up to the airlock doors of the station, which open\n automatically.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n After the airlock decompresses", "-years away.\n \n CASE\n Deploy the comms relay.\n 59.\n \n Cooper moves to the communications touchscreen.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n The relay is released from the ship, and we finally get a\n look at Tars' paint job -- the stubby device looks like a\n 20th century mail box.\n \n The relay drifts in space. A signal light illuminates as it\n sends a test packet of data to the ship.\n", ", more\n comfortable in the zero gravity environment than the humans,\n hauls himself through.\n \n They are greeted by a group of robots painted in the same\n material as the ship -- the engineers who built and have\n maintained the Endurance for thirty years.\n \n INT. MACHINE SHOP, SPACE STATION\n \n One of the robots leads Cooper through a long lab-like room\n filled with machines capable of fabricating almost anything\n imaginable. Cooper looks like a kid in a candy store.\n \n", "Cooper shakes his head, annoyed, at the robot, and puts his\n finger to his lips. The robot nods, bashful.\n \n Cooper waves a small handheld computer near the skin of the\n ship until it lights up. Then he punches in a few codes.\n Nothing happens. He punches in a few more.\n 153.\n \n Suddenly, the hatch opens with a HISS.\n \n INT. SHIP\n \n Cooper moves quickly to the cockpit of the ship. Looks", "pats Cooper on the back. Cooper begins hauling gear\n inside.\n \n EXT. SPACE, NEAR EARTH ORBIT\n \n In complete silence, the Endurance detaches from the space\n station and rolls gently away.\n \n After a moment, its nuclear engines fire and the Endurance\n begins to accelerate steadily away from the Earth.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n The engineer robots who built the Endurance watch as their\n creation disappears into space.\n ", "COOPER\n That rocket doesn't have enough thrust\n or fuel to get you to Jupiter.\n \n CASE\n The main ship was built in orbit.\n It has nuclear engines, with enough\n fuel to last for several years.\n \n Cooper looks at the schematic.\n \n COOPER\n Why are you telling me this? I\n already told you I'm not going to\n tell anyone about this place.\n \n CASE\n I know you won't, Mr.", "the rays.\n \n Doyle looks at the gun.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, VACUUM\n \n Cooper, in a space suit, steps out of the airlock.\n \n He drifts out from the ship.\n \n Nothing. Behind him, the ship is a tiny speck in an ocean\n of darkness.\n \n INT. COMMUNICATIONS ROOM, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper sits down. Turns on the screen.\n \n After", "us only a few days. But far\n more time will be passing back home.\n \n The ship's trajectory cuts through the deep gravity well of\n the smaller black hole to reach the ice planet.\n \n COOPER\n How much time?\n \n ROTH\n Based on the information from the\n probe -- as much as five years.\n \n Doyle looks at the tiny ship's trajectory, threaded between\n two black holes. He looks worried.\n \n DOYLE", "ONE every few seconds as it\n communicates with Tars' onboard computer.\n \n ROTH\n He's being pulled toward Gargantua.\n We can't help him.\n \n The crew watch, helpless, as the tones grow further and\n further apart. Then they stop.\n \n Cooper looks at Doyle, anger rising. Then he looks down.\n \n EXT. SPACE AROUND PANTAGRUEL\n \n The Endurance slowly spirals back away from", "check over one of the sleek Chinese\n spaceships.\n 135.\n \n INT. CHINESE SPACESHIP\n \n Cooper is checking over the controls of the ship. Brand\n walks in.\n \n BRAND\n I came to say goodbye.\n \n Cooper looks up at her.\n \n INT. HANGAR, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper walks Brand back to the Endurance. The ship is packed\n up and repaired. Brand is looking", " \n The robot looks up. This is CASE, the leader of the mission.\n Originally an air force pararescue officer, every part of\n him, from his alloy chassis to his voice, was designed to\n inspire respect and confidence. He turns to Cooper.\n \n CASE\n You're the man who brought us the\n probe?\n (off his look)\n Thank you. We tested the telemetry\n board you warned us about. It failed\n under high voltage, just as you said.\n Come", " Doyle FIRES the engines and the lander continues ascending\n into space as the debris around them begins crashing back\n down towards the ice planet.\n \n Cooper looks out the window:\n 111.\n \n The moon continues tearing up a massive canyon in the planet's\n surface as it circles out of view.\n \n COOPER\n Roth.\n \n BRAND\n He's gone.\n \n Ahead, a shadow looms in the darkness: the" ], [ "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", " \n DOYLE\n None of our testing involved opening\n the ship inside the wormhole. We\n have no idea what might happen.\n \n CASE\n We're going to find out.\n \n Doyle reaches over to an auxiliary panel and punches in a\n sequence.\n \n After a moment, the hull cracks open, creating a channel\n through which the radiating mouth can escape.\n \n The opening in the ship allows the pressure to begin to\n concentrate on one fract", "\n united -- they are, in all likelihood, the sole survivors of\n their planet.\n \n Doyle points to the instruments.\n \n DOYLE\n The wormhole. Look -- it's being\n pulled into the black hole as well.\n \n They watch on the holographic model as the wormhole's orbit\n converges on the event horizon of the black hole.\n \n BRAND\n It's orbit mirrored the ice planet's.\n \n CO", "TONING again and again, as it\n receives a long garbled update. Then it shuts down. Cooper\n drags himself along the hull until he reaches the controls.\n \n COOPER\n We've lost contact with the relay.\n \n Case joins Cooper at the comms screen.\n \n While they're distracted, Doyle maneuvers himself over to\n the engine control.\n 67.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n One long garbled transmission came\n ", "\n hope.\n (SAD)\n But we don't get to go with.\n \n DOYLE\n You're not stopping me. I'm going\n home.\n \n Doyle forces Cooper into the ship's lander. Then he closes\n the airlock.\n \n Cooper pounds on the other side of the glass, trying to reason\n with him.\n \n The landing craft detaches from the ship.\n \n INT. CHINESE LANDING CRA", "'s badly injured -- one leg torn\n off at the knee, one arm mangled.\n \n Doyle and Cooper drag the crippled robot back into the ship.\n \n INT. LANDER -- NIGHT\n \n They drag Case into the lander. Doyle checks over the ship's\n controls.\n 108.\n \n DOYLE\n Close the door.\n \n Cooper moves to the door. Something's wrong.\n \n COOPER\n Where's", "D\n X-rays. They feed on them and emit\n visible light. They've found a way\n to survive here.\n \n Roth looks at the shimmering light of the tiny life-forms\n trapped in the ice, mesmerized.\n \n Case hammers down with his arm, gouging a deep hole in the\n ice below. Suddenly, GAS sprays back up at him. He's found\n the gas pocket beneath them.\n \n Too late. Roth's rad meter begins BEEP", "(CONT'D)\n Roth was right, Cooper. We have to\n keep going. Keep exploring. We\n have an obligation to try to survive.\n From here we could find a thousand\n places where life could thrive. And\n you're going to return to the one\n place where it can't.\n \n COOPER\n I made a promise.\n \n He turns away from her, resolute.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper and Doyle", "hole\n shields the planet's surface from it\n for twenty hours at a stretch. Time's\n about up.\n \n Even Brand looks rattled.\n \n BRAND\n How long do we have left?\n \n ROTH\n About five minutes.\n \n COOPER\n Then what?\n \n BRAND\n Then we die. The radiation will\n cook us alive.\n \n Cooper looks around, their predicament settling in.", " He smiles, forgetting their predicament for a moment. They\n stare into each other's eyes.\n \n Then they begin, very gently, to fall back towards the ice\n planet.\n \n Suddenly, the lander maneuvers beneath them. The airlock\n opens to catch them -- Doyle is at the helm.\n \n Brand and Cooper pull themselves aboard.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n Cooper closes the door and Doyle rotates the lander outwards.\n \n", "He stops, and laughs, remembering what Case told him about\n what happens when humans die.\n \n He struggles to his feet and stumbles a few more feet,\n eventually coming to rest just steps from the ship.\n \n Cooper takes a final step. Finally, he collapses under his\n ship, as the wind continues to HOWL around him.\n \n As the snow clears for a moment, Cooper is alone on a vast\n arctic tundra. He will die alone.\n \n BLACK\n ", " \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n If the modelling was wrong, then we\n can't be sure about anything. We\n need to go back.\n \n Case thinks it over. Decides.\n \n CASE\n Shut down the engines.\n \n The engines shut down.\n \n SILENCE. The ship drifts for a moment in the swirl, then\n begins to move.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n The ship acceler", "UMENT)\n After a few years they discovered a\n problem.\n \n DOYLE\n What problem?\n \n CASE\n It doesn't say. Their science team\n took the ship to continue exploring\n the system. It says they found some\n kind of...\n (TRANSLATING)\n ...The word literally means\n 'treasure.'\n \n Case skims through the rest of the logs, large portions of\n which have been redacted.\n \n CASE", "view -- the distant hulk of\n Gargantua rising over the horizon of the shining ice planet.\n \n He takes a final breath and activates the black box.\n \n Instantly, the moon's gravity is magnified a hundred million\n times over. Roth is instantly crushed as the moon collapses\n around him into a tiny sphere.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand are only thirty yards or so from the lander.\n \n ", "ing\n the ice planet.\n \n The rocket fires to maneuver closer and closer to the moon's\n surface -- the tiny moon doesn't provide enough gravity to\n attract it.\n \n When the rocket is close enough, Roth detonates the explosive\n bolts holding him inside and leaps for the moon's surface.\n \n He scrambles to grab hold of the craggy surface. Behind\n him, the rocket smashes apart against the surface.\n \n Roth finally gets a good", "Tars is thrown backwards from the explosion, tumbling through\n space as the ship is ROCKETED upwards.\n \n INT. ENDURANCE\n \n The ship is SLAMMED by the explosion. Cooper and the rest\n of the crew are SMASHED against the hull. Doyle is knocked\n unconscious. Brand steps over to him and cradles his head,\n trying to protect him.\n \n On Roth's model, the course slowly pushes outward, out of\n the danger zone, back to the original delicate", "\n count them. Let's get out of here.\n \n COOPER\n We're too late.\n \n Cooper points to a damaged section of the ship's hull -- the\n marine has torn open a section, revealing damaged hardware.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n The main thruster fuel supply. We're\n not going anywhere.\n \n Cooper looks down. They're stuck here.\n \n DOYLE\n What about the escape rocket at the\n", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "to the\n lander.\n \n As they reach the lander Cooper spots lights emerging from\n the ship. He raises Case's weapon.\n \n One of Liu's marines steps around from the back of the lander.\n Cooper FIRES.\n \n The marine collapses.\n \n Cooper and the others race to the lander.\n \n BRAND\n Was that the last of them?\n \n DOYLE\n We're not going to stick around to", " Murph, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't\n make it back, like I promised.\n \n He hangs up the radio.\n \n In silence, they watch as the wormhole -- their only way\n home -- vanishes beneath the event horizon.\n \n DOYLE\n How much time are we losing?\n 117.\n \n BRAND\n (HEARTBROKEN)\n Decades...hundreds of years.\n \n " ], [ ".\n \n Liu's tone remains polite, but there's no hope of changing\n his mind. Cooper takes a sidelong glance at Brand.\n \n COOPER\n (LOW)\n They're never going to let us go.\n \n BRAND\n (TO LIU)\n Your mission is a humanitarian one,\n wasn't it? You were sent to start a\n colony. Like us.\n \n LIU\n Our mission was to prepare for the\n", "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", "Cooper. We're\n telling you this because I want you\n to join us.\n \n Cooper looks at him. Is he serious?\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n The probe has taken a great deal\n longer to return to us than we hoped.\n (MORE)\n 37.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n Dr. Brand's Father and several other\n members of our crew have gotten...\n older.\n \n Brand's Father looks down,", ".\n \n Cooper begins to argue, then stops. He knows enough history\n to know she's right. He looks at the withering crops.\n \n COOPER\n (QUIET)\n That's why you're looking for a planet\n with oxygen. Water.\n \n BRAND\n A new home for humanity. We'll set\n up a colony, then return to bring\n more people across.\n \n COOPER\n But you'd still only be able to save", "\n hope.\n (SAD)\n But we don't get to go with.\n \n DOYLE\n You're not stopping me. I'm going\n home.\n \n Doyle forces Cooper into the ship's lander. Then he closes\n the airlock.\n \n Cooper pounds on the other side of the glass, trying to reason\n with him.\n \n The landing craft detaches from the ship.\n \n INT. CHINESE LANDING CRA", "from the ice planet is belted securely\n into one of the seats, filled with the garbled machine code\n of the gravitational machine.\n \n COOPER\n The probe...\n \n Doyle looks back.\n \n DOYLE\n We get back to earth, you and I can\n try to make sense of the code.\n Rebuild the gravity machine.\n \n Cooper stares at it, suddenly realizing something. He\n unbuckles himself.\n \n Cooper stands and walks over", " He smiles, forgetting their predicament for a moment. They\n stare into each other's eyes.\n \n Then they begin, very gently, to fall back towards the ice\n planet.\n \n Suddenly, the lander maneuvers beneath them. The airlock\n opens to catch them -- Doyle is at the helm.\n \n Brand and Cooper pull themselves aboard.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n Cooper closes the door and Doyle rotates the lander outwards.\n \n", "COOPER\n That rocket doesn't have enough thrust\n or fuel to get you to Jupiter.\n \n CASE\n The main ship was built in orbit.\n It has nuclear engines, with enough\n fuel to last for several years.\n \n Cooper looks at the schematic.\n \n COOPER\n Why are you telling me this? I\n already told you I'm not going to\n tell anyone about this place.\n \n CASE\n I know you won't, Mr.", "He stops, and laughs, remembering what Case told him about\n what happens when humans die.\n \n He struggles to his feet and stumbles a few more feet,\n eventually coming to rest just steps from the ship.\n \n Cooper takes a final step. Finally, he collapses under his\n ship, as the wind continues to HOWL around him.\n \n As the snow clears for a moment, Cooper is alone on a vast\n arctic tundra. He will die alone.\n \n BLACK\n ", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "the rest of these people.\n \n Cooper notices through the glass door of the lab that Brand\n and the older engineer are arguing about something. She\n finally relents and walks towards the door.\n \n Brand walks in. She gestures for Cooper to follow.\n \n BRAND\n The mission commander wants to see\n you. Your son can stay here. He'll\n be all right with Tars.\n \n Cooper eyes Tars warily. Then steps outside.\n \n EXT. UND", "(CONT'D)\n Roth was right, Cooper. We have to\n keep going. Keep exploring. We\n have an obligation to try to survive.\n From here we could find a thousand\n places where life could thrive. And\n you're going to return to the one\n place where it can't.\n \n COOPER\n I made a promise.\n \n He turns away from her, resolute.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper and Doyle", "helmet\n fills with water and he begins to sink.\n \n As he sinks, Cooper pulls off his helmet, then tears off\n pieces of his suit. He forces himself through the neck of\n the suit and then swims upward.\n \n He is about to surface when he remembers where he is. He\n hesitates, just beneath the surface, lungs tightening as he\n runs out of oxygen.\n \n EXT. SEA, ICE PLANET -- DAY\n \n Cooper breaks the surface, CO", "with me, please.\n \n Case strides off.\n \n INT. MISSION CONTROL, UNDERGROUND HANGAR -- DAY\n \n The lights dim as Brand's father brings up a schematic of\n our solar system. Case points to the picture of the ice\n planet recovered from the probe.\n \n CASE\n You're right, Mr. Cooper. The planet\n you saw is a long way from earth. A\n very long way indeed.\n \n Brand looks down", "while Cooper works at it with a blowtorch.\n \n -- Tars pulls the probe out of the back of a plane.\n \n -- Brand's father, older, studies the probe. Gives up.\n \n -- Much later. People are moving around in the darkened\n base, scavenging equipment.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. FIELD -- DAY\n \n A combine harvester is dead in a field, service hatch opened.\n A MAN is lying", "work.\n \n The transfer is complete. Roth hands Cooper the probe, and\n takes the black box himself.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n This is a one-way trip for me.\n \n Before Cooper can respond, Roth heads for the door.\n \n EXT. CHINESE BASE CAMP, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Roth squeezes himself into the rocket, hugging the black box\n to his chest. Cooper and Brand help him.\n \n", "\n Black holes are a more stable supply\n of power than stars in many ways.\n \n COOPER\n You really think there's a plan?\n \n BRAND\n I hope so.\n (looks at him)\n You don't?\n \n COOPER\n I guess I just think we're on our\n own.\n \n Cooper looks at the impossibly complicated system of black\n holes orbiting each other.\n \n EXT. LAGRANGE PO", "is as good as mine.\n \n Cooper hikes into the jungle to look for Brand.\n \n EXT. JUNGLE, ICE PLANET -- DAY\n \n Cooper finds Brand taking samples from the tree-like life-\n forms, which are wildly different from their counterparts\n back on Earth, piled in torturous coils, as if frozen in a\n struggle to punch through the canopy to reach the light above.\n \n BRAND\n This is incredible. The organisms\n", "Cooper shakes his head, annoyed, at the robot, and puts his\n finger to his lips. The robot nods, bashful.\n \n Cooper waves a small handheld computer near the skin of the\n ship until it lights up. Then he punches in a few codes.\n Nothing happens. He punches in a few more.\n 153.\n \n Suddenly, the hatch opens with a HISS.\n \n INT. SHIP\n \n Cooper moves quickly to the cockpit of the ship. Looks", "She finally finds what she's looking for -- the sample case.\n The tiny fractal life-form is huddled at the bottom.\n \n Cooper shakes his head and turns back to the lander.\n 109.\n \n EXT. MOON, SPACE OVER ICE PLANET\n \n Roth is watching the ice planet pass by beneath him. He\n finally sees the distant peaks of the mountain range as it\n punctures the ice near the Chinese camp.\n \n For a moment he enjoys the" ], [ "looks a\n little off. He walks over.\n \n He pokes at the undergrowth with his rifle. The rifle CLANKS\n against something metal. Cooper reaches -- it's a camouflage\n scrim. He gently pulls it aside, revealing a chemical\n transport truck.\n \n Cooper steps back, alarmed. He brings up his rifle.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n He looks around. Murph is nowhere to be seen. Cooper curses\n and", "ing on the edge of death.\n \n The old man looks at him, eyes widening in excitement. He\n strains, trying to reach the bedside table. He's trying to\n reach the drawer. Cooper helps him open it.\n \n Inside is a simple, familiar wristwatch. The old man\n carefully takes out the watch. He gives the watch a few\n winds and, hands shaking, offers it to Cooper.\n \n Cooper, eyes filling with tears, closes his hand over the\n old man's hand, envelop", "He stops, and laughs, remembering what Case told him about\n what happens when humans die.\n \n He struggles to his feet and stumbles a few more feet,\n eventually coming to rest just steps from the ship.\n \n Cooper takes a final step. Finally, he collapses under his\n ship, as the wind continues to HOWL around him.\n \n As the snow clears for a moment, Cooper is alone on a vast\n arctic tundra. He will die alone.\n \n BLACK\n ", "?\n \n COOPER\n We're going to find out soon enough.\n \n Brand is looking off into the distance.\n \n BRAND\n Someone's coming.\n \n Cooper looks up. A robotlike figure is limping through the\n snowstorm towards them. Cooper raises the rifle.\n \n Finally he makes out the insignia -- it's Case.\n \n Cooper and Doyle run out towards him. They reach Case as he\n collapses in the snow. He", "his father, steps forward to touch the robot.\n \n Suddenly, the robot SPRINGS into action, picking up the boy\n and hoisting him up to eye level.\n \n Cooper, stunned, points the rifle at the robot.\n \n The robot turns, dropping the boy, RIPS the rifle from\n Cooper's hands, BENDS it, then SLAMS him up against the side\n of the water tank. Cooper punches him, then winces in agony.\n \n Murph picks up the rifle and begins", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", " \n Cooper shivers, pressed against the wall. The storm is still\n raging outside. He is freezing to death. He has to move\n now or he will die. He pulls the hood tight around his face\n and stumbles outside.\n \n EXT. SNOWBOUND FIELD -- DAY\n \n Cooper makes his way through the blinding snow. He tries to\n find his way, but the ship has been consumed by the blizzard.\n \n He stumbles to the ground, dropping the glass", "bed, fully clothed, exhausted. He\n stares up at the ceiling. This is his life.\n \n INT. BEDROOM, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n The air is filled with a PIERCING NOISE.\n \n Cooper BOLTS upright. Stumbles out the door.\n \n INT. HALLWAY, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper's boys are in the hallway, exhausted. Cooper, holding\n a baseball bat, makes", "TONING again and again, as it\n receives a long garbled update. Then it shuts down. Cooper\n drags himself along the hull until he reaches the controls.\n \n COOPER\n We've lost contact with the relay.\n \n Case joins Cooper at the comms screen.\n \n While they're distracted, Doyle maneuvers himself over to\n the engine control.\n 67.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n One long garbled transmission came\n ", "across the room like a human. After\n a moment, the creatures tumble to the ground and flail away.\n \n Cooper is still breathing hard as the cave empties and he\n and Brand are left alone again.\n \n Brand steps to the edge of the cave and watches, fascinated,\n as the creatures resume wrestling and battling each other.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n They're killing each other.\n \n BRAND\n No. They don't bleed... they don", "you like to know\n the last thing you will see?\n \n Cooper hesitates. Case senses the jump in his heart rate.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n This conversation is making you\n uncomfortable. We should stop.\n 57.\n \n COOPER\n No. I want to know.\n \n CASE\n The last thing you will see before\n you die will be your children.\n (BEAT)\n Your mind does this to you to get\n you", "to the\n lander.\n \n As they reach the lander Cooper spots lights emerging from\n the ship. He raises Case's weapon.\n \n One of Liu's marines steps around from the back of the lander.\n Cooper FIRES.\n \n The marine collapses.\n \n Cooper and the others race to the lander.\n \n BRAND\n Was that the last of them?\n \n DOYLE\n We're not going to stick around to", "\n Come on.\n \n Cooper picks up the rifle from the destroyed marine and begins\n hiking up the mountain.\n \n EXT. MOUNTAIN PEAK -- DAY\n \n The crew hike towards the ice above.\n \n Below they hear a metallic BOOM as something heavy hits\n something else -- Case is still fighting. They keep moving.\n \n EXT. UPPER MOUNTAIN PEAK -- TWILIGHT\n \n They are high above the Marine camp, only fifty feet", "running from the rumbling, smashing melee behind\n them. But as they run, the entire jungle around them begins\n to break apart and move.\n \n After a moment, they're surrounded. The jungle is completely\n disassembling itself into a million different pieces, each\n one a different size and shape than the others.\n \n COOPER\n We have to reach the shelter.\n \n They head off, crashing through the melee.\n \n EXT. SHORE, ICE PLAN", "-- DAY\n \n Murph lets himself inside. Lights a flare.\n \n The place has been gutted. Thieves and scavengers have taken\n almost everything.\n \n Murph finds one of the robots, or what's left of it -- it's\n been stripped, leaving only the bare composite skeleton.\n The empty eye sockets stare back at Murph.\n \n Murph looks around the place. There is nothing left to\n salvage. He turns to leave. Hears a", "OPER\n I'm sorry. I have to find out what\n happened to my sons. I promised\n them.\n \n Brand sees the resolve in his eyes. Knows there's no way to\n change his mind.\n \n BRAND\n You're a man who keeps his promises.\n Make me one-\n \n She takes his hand.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n After you're done... come find me.\n \n COOPER\n I", "another.\n \n FADE TO BLACK\n \n EXT. CORNFIELD, CENTRAL CALIFORNIA -- DAY\n \n Corn. As far as the eye can see.\n \n SUPER TITLE: \"FIFTY YEARS LATER\"\n \n A large old diesel tour bus is parked by the side of a dirt\n road, smoke pouring out of its open hood. A dozen MEN in\n BASEBALL UNIFORMS are standing around the", "heartbroken. Roth smiles.\n 107.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n I understand the plan, now. Whatever\n happens, you have to keep exploring.\n Keep learning. One good idea isn't\n enough. You'll need more and more\n of them just to survive. Do you\n understand?\n \n BRAND\n (NODS)\n Thank you.\n \n ROTH\n Go.\n \n Brand turns to follow Cooper", "'s badly injured -- one leg torn\n off at the knee, one arm mangled.\n \n Doyle and Cooper drag the crippled robot back into the ship.\n \n INT. LANDER -- NIGHT\n \n They drag Case into the lander. Doyle checks over the ship's\n controls.\n 108.\n \n DOYLE\n Close the door.\n \n Cooper moves to the door. Something's wrong.\n \n COOPER\n Where's", "ROTH\n Fascinating. I think-\n \n Case grabs him by the arm and pushes him bodily into the\n shelter after Doyle.\n \n Case pushes the door closed.\n \n INT. SHELTER, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n They crouch inside the shelter as the organisms begin POUNDING\n at the walls, trying to force their way inside.\n \n It's going to be a long night.\n \n EXT. J" ], [ "back towards the\n dark side of the planet, out of view of the neutron star,\n and back towards the original wormhole.\n \n DOYLE\n I'm setting a course for the wormhole.\n \n They're going to make it.\n \n Cooper and Brand make eye contact -- Brand gives him a tiny\n awkward smile. He returns it, then descends below.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper props Case up against the workbench. He pulls down", "COOPER\n All of those people back home...\n none of them will make it.\n \n As Doyle watches the controls the ship continues to spiral\n towards the black hole.\n \n DOYLE\n This is it. We're going to be pulled\n in.\n \n Cooper looks at the controls, an idea forming.\n \n He pulls himself down. Hauls himself across the deck to\n pick up Liu's chip. He plugs it into a diagnostic tool.\n \n ", "\n He pauses. Lifts up his hand and scratches his stubble.\n \n Cooper pauses the message. He looks carefully at the screen:\n \n Murph is wearing his dad's watch.\n \n Cooper lets the message play. Tears are streaming down his\n face.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n Rot's setting in. I guess you were\n right for clearing out while you had\n the chance.\n (reaches up to switch\n OFF CAMER", "\n Black holes are a more stable supply\n of power than stars in many ways.\n \n COOPER\n You really think there's a plan?\n \n BRAND\n I hope so.\n (looks at him)\n You don't?\n \n COOPER\n I guess I just think we're on our\n own.\n \n Cooper looks at the impossibly complicated system of black\n holes orbiting each other.\n \n EXT. LAGRANGE PO", "black hole\n just to have enough power to try it.\n \n Several miles above the black box, one of the wormholes glows\n far brighter than the others, crackling with radiation.\n \n DOYLE\n What does it do?\n \n Cooper steps forward. Runs a hand on the cold, strange\n material the antenna is made out of. He knows exactly what\n it does.\n \n COOPER\n They weren't interested in the other\n wormholes because their mission was", "the view and get to work.\n Roth begins adapting his models of the local system with the\n real observational data pouring in from the ship's\n instruments.\n \n Cooper pulls himself to the comms post. PINGS the relay\n they left on the far side of the wormhole.\n \n EXT. WORMHOLE MOUTH 'A', SPACE\n \n The blue and white comms relay LIGHTS up as it receives a\n packet through the wormhole.\n \n INT. ENDUR", "is looking at the tiny black box\n he's pried from the center of the sphere. Cooper is looking\n over his shoulder.\n \n COOPER\n They found a way to make gravity.\n \n ROTH\n Not make it. Adjust it. Dial it\n up, or down. I think they were\n experimenting with it -- firing these\n into the black hole to try to save\n this planet.\n \n DOYLE\n All that from one tiny box.\n \n ", "an arm and pats Cooper on the shoulder.\n \n INT. ENDURANCE, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper and the others haul themselves into the ship. To\n Cooper's surprise, it's quite compact, and divided into two\n chambers, like nestled spheres.\n \n COOPER\n The ship is tiny.\n \n Doyle, squeezing past him, smiles at Cooper's surprise.\n \n DOYLE\n So is the wormhole.\n \n Doyle", "hole mouth.\n \n Cooper takes a deep breath as the center of the ship begins\n gently lowering itself into the wormhole mouth, feeding itself\n into the wormhole from the inside out. Cooper watches as\n Doyle is swallowed into the compressing ship with a GRUNT.\n \n TARS\n Would you like me to make a joke?\n \n COOPER\n (FIRM)\n No.\n \n Cooper's turn: he is fed into the hole, legs first, then\n waist,", "us only a few days. But far\n more time will be passing back home.\n \n The ship's trajectory cuts through the deep gravity well of\n the smaller black hole to reach the ice planet.\n \n COOPER\n How much time?\n \n ROTH\n Based on the information from the\n probe -- as much as five years.\n \n Doyle looks at the tiny ship's trajectory, threaded between\n two black holes. He looks worried.\n \n DOYLE", " ago. That's why we couldn't contact\n it, even after we reached the planet.\n \n Cooper is still problem solving, thinking.\n \n COOPER\n We could bypass the relay. Send a\n conventional shortwave signal.\n \n BRAND\n Only a tiny portion of the signal\n would make it though the wormhole.\n Besides, no one will be listening\n anymore.\n \n The comms screen is dead. No movement. Nothing.\n \n Cooper looks at", "This is the period\n in which we'll lose time.\n \n COOPER\n Lose time?\n \n Roth shifts the hologram -- the stars and black holes flatten\n onto a sheet that bends, revealing the curvature of gravity.\n \n ROTH\n High speed or high gravity both slow\n down time, relative to earth.\n (MORE)\n 47.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n The trip around the black hole will\n take", "Doyle GASPS as the sphere nearest him moves through his body,\n coming to rest in the middle and bending his entire torso\n like a fun house mirror.\n \n Suddenly, the sphere wrapped around Cooper's hand begins\n moving, tugging him gently through the cabin.\n \n In the next moment, all three of them are being propelled\n through the cabin.\n \n It's a magical moment -- a communion, a dance between\n creatures on either side of a massive, invisible wall.\n \n D", "\n \n INT. CAPSULE\n \n Cooper looks through the tiny porthole into inky blackness.\n \n As they get closer, he makes out a looming matte black\n structure that passes light from the stars directly through.\n \n In the center of the structure, Cooper can see a globe-like\n ship covered in the same refractive material: the ENDURANCE.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n The door cracks open and equalizes with a HISS. Case", "orbit.\n \n As they near the original orbit, Case fires the remaining\n engine, pushing them back onto the outspiraling orbit.\n 69.\n \n CASE\n It's going to be close, but we're\n going to make it.\n \n Brand looks at the instruments. Points to a tiny radar\n contact receding towards the massive black hole.\n \n BRAND\n Tars. His transponder is still\n working.\n \n The ship's instruments T", ". Goodbye, Dad.\n \n The image freezes, Tom's hand on the camera, then breaks\n apart into digital noise.\n \n Then nothing.\n \n Cooper looks at it for a second. Then rises to leave.\n \n Suddenly, the screen flickers to life again.\n \n A good-looking man in his late 30s turns on a camera. Cooper\n recognizes him instantly. It's Murph.\n \n Murph looks at the camera for a long beat, clearly", "There's going to be important work\n to do here, too.\n \n Tears are streaming down the boy's face. Cooper takes his\n watch off. Looks at it.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I need you to hold onto this. Will\n you do that for me?\n \n Cooper hands Murph the watch. The boy nods, saddened.\n \n MURPH\n You're not coming back, are you?\n \n COOPER\n ", "One of them begins to move closer to Cooper.\n \n COOPER\n This thing is made of... gravity?\n \n BRAND\n No. I don't think it's in our\n universe at all. I think it lives\n in the bulk -- the space that the\n wormholes traverse. And it can only\n interact with us using gravity.\n \n The shape playfully grows around Cooper's hand, bending the\n space it's in, stretching the skin.\n \n ", ":\n \n The ship is spinning back down towards the black hole.\n \n BRAND\n No... We're being pulled back to\n Pantagruel.\n \n Cooper, frantically checks the controls, firing the remaining\n boosters.\n \n COOPER\n We can't let that happen. We'll\n lose more time... too much...\n \n The boosters are no match for the deadly pull of the black\n hole below them.\n \n On the", "have dropped down to a lower gravity\n well, creating a time machine.\n \n The wormhole mouth is FLARING with radiation.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Brand said there'd be some evidence\n we'd made it. And there was. This.\n (holds up probe)\n But only this. Everything will be\n destroyed except for this.\n \n He moves toward Doyle. Doyle stands.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n We have to stop.\n" ], [ "engines disengage themselves from the ship.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The nuclear engines drift a safe distance back from the ship\n and then snap tight on their tether.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew move into the tight, claustrophobic outer layer of\n the ship. They will have very little room as the ship passes\n through the wormhole.\n \n Tars detaches his legs in order to take up less space during", ", more\n comfortable in the zero gravity environment than the humans,\n hauls himself through.\n \n They are greeted by a group of robots painted in the same\n material as the ship -- the engineers who built and have\n maintained the Endurance for thirty years.\n \n INT. MACHINE SHOP, SPACE STATION\n \n One of the robots leads Cooper through a long lab-like room\n filled with machines capable of fabricating almost anything\n imaginable. Cooper looks like a kid in a candy store.\n \n", " \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper watches the comms screen. After a moment it TONES as\n it receives a data packet from Earth.\n \n CASE\n Everyone take their station for\n transit. We're heading into the\n wormhole mouth.\n \n Cooper and the rest begin folding away equipment in the\n control room and moving into the outer layer of the ship.\n \n Case initiates a sequence on the keypad and the nuclear\n ", "torso, and, finally, his head.\n \n EXT. SPACE\n \n The Endurance shrinks as it sinks from the inside out into\n the wormhole.\n \n After a moment, it's gone. The only thing left behind is\n the comms relay, drifting in space, waiting for a signal.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The ship continues to slide through the wormhole. Through\n the outer hull they see images of themselves repeating -- a", " EXT. SPACE AROUND GARGANTUA -- MORNING\n \n The ship is tumbling through space, racing toward the second\n wormhole. It is massive, much larger than the first wormhole,\n and it's glowing with a light as bright as a star.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew brace themselves against the hull of the ship.\n \n Suddenly the ship slams onto the wormhole mouth and is pulled\n violently into the worm", "pats Cooper on the back. Cooper begins hauling gear\n inside.\n \n EXT. SPACE, NEAR EARTH ORBIT\n \n In complete silence, the Endurance detaches from the space\n station and rolls gently away.\n \n After a moment, its nuclear engines fire and the Endurance\n begins to accelerate steadily away from the Earth.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n The engineer robots who built the Endurance watch as their\n creation disappears into space.\n ", "INT, SPACE\n \n Behind the ship, the sun is a distant light, not much bigger\n than the other stars.\n \n CASE (O.S.)\n We've reached the wormhole.\n \n The ship slows as it nears a tiny, crystal mouth, just four\n meters or so in diameter.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Case looks at the wormhole on the screen. It glows with the\n light of stars billions of light", "\n Their mission is complete. One by one, they shut down.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew watch through a translucent section of the ship's\n hull as the Earth gets steadily smaller.\n \n Then they settle in for the long journey to the wormhole.\n 53.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n Tars is hunched over a small communications relay, one hand\n is holding a", "crystal-like mouth. Finally, it envelops the mouth,\n bringing it into the open chamber.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n As the crew watch, the wormhole mouth is positioned in the\n center of the inner compartment.\n \n Case presses a sequence key on the control panel and the\n ship's hull closes again, trapping the wormhole inside it.\n \n With a GRUMBLE, the ship begins contracting, squeezing itself\n down around the worm", " \n At the center, like a king at the center of his court, is\n Gargantua, plasma jets spewing from its poles.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew pull themselves back into the control deck from the\n outer hull. Their incredible surroundings are visible in\n all directions as Endurance passes the light into the cabin.\n \n CASE\n Reconfigure the engines and test the\n communications array.\n \n The crew break themselves away from", "\n transit. Then he tethers himself to the hull wall.\n \n Case is the last to join them. He detaches a small control\n module from the console, then pulls himself into the outer\n hull and seals the passageway.\n \n Case presses a button on the control module. With a GROAN,\n the hull walls of the ship begin to BEND.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The ship's hull begins to CRACK open, revealing the inner", "\n chamber.\n 60.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The SHUDDERING continues. The crew watch nervously as the\n control chamber below them suddenly opens itself to the cold\n blackness of space.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The ship silently rolls itself into position, pointing the\n opening in its hull toward the wormhole mouth.\n \n Slowly, the Endurance pushes itself forward, closer and closer\n to the", "planet at high speed.\n \n INT. AIRLOCK, ENDURANCE\n \n Brand ushers Doyle into the landing module. Cooper objects.\n \n COOPER\n We're bringing him along?\n 71.\n \n BRAND\n We need all the help we can get.\n Besides, the alternative is to leave\n him on the ship alone. You think\n he'll still be here when we get back?\n \n Cooper steps aside, allowing Doyle onboard.\n", "sending the ball bearings\n scattering. He hurries to the instruments. The ship is\n moving -- picking up speed at a huge rate.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n They're moving us.\n \n DOYLE\n Where?\n \n They stand, looking out into the perfect darkness.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, VACUUM\n \n The ship begins to close in on something in the darkness: a\n tiny point of light.\n \n As", "back towards the\n dark side of the planet, out of view of the neutron star,\n and back towards the original wormhole.\n \n DOYLE\n I'm setting a course for the wormhole.\n \n They're going to make it.\n \n Cooper and Brand make eye contact -- Brand gives him a tiny\n awkward smile. He returns it, then descends below.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper props Case up against the workbench. He pulls down", "Endurance.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Brand, Cooper, and Doyle pull themselves out of the airlock\n and scramble to take control of the ship.\n \n Below them, the surface of the ice planet illuminates as the\n neutron star's x-rays begin to reach it from the far side of\n Pantagruel.\n \n Doyle finally gets the ship straightened out. Its sole\n remaining engine FIRES, rocketing the ship", "an arm and pats Cooper on the shoulder.\n \n INT. ENDURANCE, SPACE STATION\n \n Cooper and the others haul themselves into the ship. To\n Cooper's surprise, it's quite compact, and divided into two\n chambers, like nestled spheres.\n \n COOPER\n The ship is tiny.\n \n Doyle, squeezing past him, smiles at Cooper's surprise.\n \n DOYLE\n So is the wormhole.\n \n Doyle", "station, built onto the surface of the\n sphere.\n \n EXT. SPACE STATION\n \n The Endurance glides to a gentle stop on one of the upper\n decks of the space station.\n \n After a moment, the airlock to the ship opens and Cooper and\n the others step out, in their suits.\n \n They walk up to the airlock doors of the station, which open\n automatically.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n After the airlock decompresses", " \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The lander detaches from Endurance, rolls over on its belly,\n and FIRES thrusters to sink towards the planet's surface.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n The crew watches, fascinated, as the ship descends, navigating\n between the moons that hurtle past.\n \n The moons are vastly different than our own; potato shaped\n and only one to two miles in circumference, they are hug", "\n \n INT. CAPSULE\n \n Cooper looks through the tiny porthole into inky blackness.\n \n As they get closer, he makes out a looming matte black\n structure that passes light from the stars directly through.\n \n In the center of the structure, Cooper can see a globe-like\n ship covered in the same refractive material: the ENDURANCE.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n The door cracks open and equalizes with a HISS. Case" ], [ " \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The lander detaches from Endurance, rolls over on its belly,\n and FIRES thrusters to sink towards the planet's surface.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n The crew watches, fascinated, as the ship descends, navigating\n between the moons that hurtle past.\n \n The moons are vastly different than our own; potato shaped\n and only one to two miles in circumference, they are hug", "Endurance.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Brand, Cooper, and Doyle pull themselves out of the airlock\n and scramble to take control of the ship.\n \n Below them, the surface of the ice planet illuminates as the\n neutron star's x-rays begin to reach it from the far side of\n Pantagruel.\n \n Doyle finally gets the ship straightened out. Its sole\n remaining engine FIRES, rocketing the ship", "sending the ball bearings\n scattering. He hurries to the instruments. The ship is\n moving -- picking up speed at a huge rate.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n They're moving us.\n \n DOYLE\n Where?\n \n They stand, looking out into the perfect darkness.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, VACUUM\n \n The ship begins to close in on something in the darkness: a\n tiny point of light.\n \n As", "filling with discarded clothes, different colors\n and shapes, like a ticker tape parade.\n \n In the center of the cabin, Brand and Cooper make love.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE -- LATER\n \n Cooper and Brand embrace, sleeping, drifting in the cabin.\n \n Suddenly, Doyle's voice calls out from the other cabin.\n \n DOYLE (O.S.)\n It's happening... it's happening\n again... Get up", " \n At the center, like a king at the center of his court, is\n Gargantua, plasma jets spewing from its poles.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew pull themselves back into the control deck from the\n outer hull. Their incredible surroundings are visible in\n all directions as Endurance passes the light into the cabin.\n \n CASE\n Reconfigure the engines and test the\n communications array.\n \n The crew break themselves away from", " \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n If the modelling was wrong, then we\n can't be sure about anything. We\n need to go back.\n \n Case thinks it over. Decides.\n \n CASE\n Shut down the engines.\n \n The engines shut down.\n \n SILENCE. The ship drifts for a moment in the swirl, then\n begins to move.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n The ship acceler", "\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Days go by. They check the instruments. Still nothing.\n It's as if they have left the known universe altogether.\n 120.\n \n INT. COMMUNICATIONS ROOM, ENDURANCE\n \n Doyle sits down. After a moment, he turns on the screen and\n cues up a message.\n \n His children appear on-screen, giggling, pushing each other,\n trying to get a prime", "\n transit. Then he tethers himself to the hull wall.\n \n Case is the last to join them. He detaches a small control\n module from the console, then pulls himself into the outer\n hull and seals the passageway.\n \n Case presses a button on the control module. With a GROAN,\n the hull walls of the ship begin to BEND.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The ship's hull begins to CRACK open, revealing the inner", "engines disengage themselves from the ship.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The nuclear engines drift a safe distance back from the ship\n and then snap tight on their tether.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew move into the tight, claustrophobic outer layer of\n the ship. They will have very little room as the ship passes\n through the wormhole.\n \n Tars detaches his legs in order to take up less space during", "pats Cooper on the back. Cooper begins hauling gear\n inside.\n \n EXT. SPACE, NEAR EARTH ORBIT\n \n In complete silence, the Endurance detaches from the space\n station and rolls gently away.\n \n After a moment, its nuclear engines fire and the Endurance\n begins to accelerate steadily away from the Earth.\n \n INT. SPACE STATION\n \n The engineer robots who built the Endurance watch as their\n creation disappears into space.\n ", "it.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n Tars rips out the cooling circuitry. Then, holding on tight,\n he fires the engine.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew watch as Tars holds the engine, blasting it at full\n power into the swirl. The engine heats up white-hot.\n \n ROTH\n Prime the remaining engine. When he\n detonates it, we'll only have a few", "Pantagruel, the\n sky slowing as the orbit grows longer.\n \n Finally, a tiny speck of light appears in front of the ship.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Roth watches as the Endurance races back away from the black\n hole and into a perfect orbit around a tiny ice planet.\n \n Roth looks up from his screen, smiling.\n \n ROTH\n We're here.\n \n INT. OBSERV", "\n Their mission is complete. One by one, they shut down.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew watch through a translucent section of the ship's\n hull as the Earth gets steadily smaller.\n \n Then they settle in for the long journey to the wormhole.\n 53.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n Tars is hunched over a small communications relay, one hand\n is holding a", " canvas studded with points of light -- like looking into the\n universe through the wrong end of a telescope.\n \n Cooper presses himself against the wall and holds on as the\n hull beneath him opens outward.\n \n EXT. WARPED SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE\n \n The Endurance emerges from the opposite end of the wormhole\n from the inside out. It drifts in space.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n For a moment,", "torso, and, finally, his head.\n \n EXT. SPACE\n \n The Endurance shrinks as it sinks from the inside out into\n the wormhole.\n \n After a moment, it's gone. The only thing left behind is\n the comms relay, drifting in space, waiting for a signal.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The ship continues to slide through the wormhole. Through\n the outer hull they see images of themselves repeating -- a", "they grow closer, they realize that it's an opening.\n They are inside a massive, hollow sphere. They have been\n the entire time.\n \n The ship is guided out through the opening at the crown of\n the sphere.\n \n Below them is an astonishing sight:\n \n Our entire universe, compressed into a flattened disc, like\n a floor of stars. They are hovering above it, in the bulk,\n the space between universes.\n \n INT. ENDURANCE, BULK\n", "A)\n Good luck, old man. I hope you made\n it. I really do.\n \n The video cuts out.\n 124.\n \n A message appears on the screen:\n \n \"Final transmission.\" Relay powered down 05232087\n \n Cooper turns off the screen.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper is seated, alone. Almost every compartment has been\n opened and emptied -- debris is sw", "spot in front of the camera.\n \n Doyle cups his face in his hands and cries.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper above his bunk, stares out into the blackness.\n \n Brand watches him from the doorway.\n \n BRAND\n I'm sorry. I should have told you.\n I didn't have the right.\n (BEAT)\n But you should watch the recordings.\n You should know what happened", "can climb up the\n mountains back to the ice. We're\n down to three suits. We'll have to\n send someone ahead to get a fourth.\n 81.\n \n BRAND\n I won't need one.\n \n DOYLE\n Why not?\n \n BRAND\n Because I'm not going anywhere.\n This is our new home.\n \n Brand picks up some of her instruments and a sample case and\n hikes into the jungle.\n", "\n chamber.\n 60.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The SHUDDERING continues. The crew watch nervously as the\n control chamber below them suddenly opens itself to the cold\n blackness of space.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The ship silently rolls itself into position, pointing the\n opening in its hull toward the wormhole mouth.\n \n Slowly, the Endurance pushes itself forward, closer and closer\n to the" ], [ "Murph. There's no one\n to take it back to.\n \n MURPH\n But what if there is, dad? What if\n there's something we can salvage?\n \n Cooper thinks it over. Murph scrambles to get his shoes.\n \n EXT. COOPER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n The shriek is still muffled. Cooper walks over to the well,\n putting in a pair of earplugs.\n \n A line is staked off", "TOM (CONT'D)\n Murph was there for the funeral.\n It's been a few years since I've\n seen him. He's been down in the\n Gulf Coast. He's an engineer. I\n guess someone followed in your\n footsteps after all.\n \n Tom looks down.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n You're not listening to this. I\n know that. All of these messages\n are just out there, drifting in the\n darkness.\n ", "\n He pauses. Lifts up his hand and scratches his stubble.\n \n Cooper pauses the message. He looks carefully at the screen:\n \n Murph is wearing his dad's watch.\n \n Cooper lets the message play. Tears are streaming down his\n face.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n Rot's setting in. I guess you were\n right for clearing out while you had\n the chance.\n (reaches up to switch\n OFF CAMER", "unsure\n about this.\n \n MURPH\n Hello, Dad. You sonofabitch.\n \n He laughs, self-conscious.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n It's your 60th birthday today.\n Thought I would celebrate with you a\n bit.\n (BEAT)\n I guess I understand why you left.\n The corn is dying now, too.\n Tom says there's less and less at\n harvest every year.\n ", "He stops, and laughs, remembering what Case told him about\n what happens when humans die.\n \n He struggles to his feet and stumbles a few more feet,\n eventually coming to rest just steps from the ship.\n \n Cooper takes a final step. Finally, he collapses under his\n ship, as the wind continues to HOWL around him.\n \n As the snow clears for a moment, Cooper is alone on a vast\n arctic tundra. He will die alone.\n \n BLACK\n ", "I've been doing the math, dad. I\n weigh about 85 pounds. Now that's\n an extra ton of fuel. But if-\n \n COOPER\n You have to stay here, pal.\n \n MURPH\n (DISTRAUGHT)\n I heard you talking to grandpa. I'm\n like you. I don't fit here, either.\n You know that.\n \n Cooper puts an arm around the boy.\n \n COOPER\n ", ". Goodbye, Dad.\n \n The image freezes, Tom's hand on the camera, then breaks\n apart into digital noise.\n \n Then nothing.\n \n Cooper looks at it for a second. Then rises to leave.\n \n Suddenly, the screen flickers to life again.\n \n A good-looking man in his late 30s turns on a camera. Cooper\n recognizes him instantly. It's Murph.\n \n Murph looks at the camera for a long beat, clearly", ". Their tractor begins sliding towards\n the wreckage of the barn, chunky tires plowing up the soil.\n \n Finally, the RUMBLING STOPS as the power lines short out in\n a FIERY display.\n \n As the dust clears, Murph and his daughter examine the mess:\n \n The entire barn has been crushed into a tiny ball.\n \n Murph looks at his daughter.\n \n MURPH\n Do you remember what you changed?\n \n Wide-", "\n \n Murph is staring off into the distance. He's heard something.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n Then Cooper hears it, too. A LOW RUMBLING SOUND. Cooper\n looks out over the river. Then he turns back and tackles\n his son to the ground.\n \n Suddenly, a MASSIVE AIRPLANE SOARS overhead, so close they\n can almost touch it. It bounces the truck on its suspension,\n ", " \n COOPER\n (GENTLE)\n Maybe... maybe Roth's right... maybe\n we just don't understand it yet.\n \n She looks down. She knows he doesn't believe what he's\n saying. He's been right all along -- they're alone.\n \n For a tiny moment, all hope is lost.\n \n Suddenly, with a distant RUMBLE, the building begins SHAKING.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Case,", " \n Murph stares at it, wide eyed.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n INT. BARN -- NIGHT\n \n Murph, now in his 40s, is putting the finishing touches on a\n large machine. Although slightly different, we recognize\n some of the components and their configuration:\n \n It's a crude version of the gravitational device.\n \n Murph double checks it, then fires up a small gas powered\n generator. Throws a breaker, feeding", "\n that Murph brought a book to school\n about the lunar landings.\n \n He slides an old textbook with a picture of a rocket on the\n cover across the desk to Cooper.\n \n COOPER\n One of my old textbooks. Murph liked\n the pictures.\n \n MS. KELLY\n This is one of the old federal\n textbooks. We've replaced them with\n corrected versions.\n \n COOPER\n Corrected?\n \n MS", "T. YARD, MURPH'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Murph moves towards the barn, concerned. The shaking is\n growing stronger -- the entire structure is buckling.\n \n Emily, now 18, backs out of the barn.\n \n EMILY COOPER\n Dad... I'm sorry... I made some\n changes to the machine. I think I\n did something wrong.\n \n Murph puts an arm around his daughter and as they watch, the\n entire barn IMPLODES", "(CONT'D)\n That's him.\n 148.\n \n She points to the old man lying in the bed.\n \n DOCTOR (CONT'D)\n His name is Anthony Welling. Anthony\n Cooper Welling.\n (SMILES)\n He's your great great grandson.\n He's been waiting a long time for\n you.\n \n Cooper's eyes well with tears. He steps over to the bed and\n looks down at the ancient man, teeter", "ones -- the man's own parents. Grandparents.\n Cooper spots a tiny framed picture with someone he recognizes:\n \n Murph, 80 years old, surrounded by his daughter and her\n family. They are standing in front of a re-opened Cape\n Canaveral, and a huge spaceship under construction.\n \n Cooper picks up the picture and stares at it.\n \n The doctor points to a shy little boy hiding behind Murph's\n leg in the picture.\n \n DOCTOR", "front door. Once\n again, the movement shuts it up.\n \n EXT. PORCH, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and his boys roll the probe out of the front door.\n It BUMPS down the front steps and comes to rest in the dirt.\n After a moment, the unholy RACKET starts up again.\n \n Cooper keeps rolling it, but it doesn't seem to help. Murph\n looks up, sees the stars overhead.\n \n MUR", " \n Cooper moves closer to it, looking into its blackened eyes.\n He steps back, clearly a little spooked.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I think we need to go, Murph.\n \n MURPH\n But can't we take it back? You could\n fix it up, get him to do chores.\n \n COOPER\n No. I don't know what this place\n is, but we're leaving.\n \n Murph, ignoring", "encrusted kid with a black eye, smiles at the\n ballplayer.\n \n MURPH\n My dad can fix anything.\n (WRY SMILE)\n Except maybe your fastball.\n \n The ballplayer frowns: smartass kid.\n \n After a moment under the hood, Cooper signals to the driver,\n who tries the engine. It turns over once, then STARTS.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n Sure appreciate the help.\n \n COOPER", "his way down the stairs.\n \n Cooper uses the bat to open the kitchen door.\n \n INT. KITCHEN, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper steps in, Murph watching from behind him.\n 24.\n \n The probe is clamped to the table, the chirp replaced with a\n DEAFENING SCREAM.\n \n Cooper, holding his ears, moves closer to the probe. He\n hits it with the paddles. No result.\n ", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich" ], [ "sleek-\n looking spacecraft. He packs up his tools and heads out.\n \n After a moment, two figures pick their way across the hangar\n floor, sticking to the shadows.\n \n As they reach the first ship in the line, we get a better\n look. It's Cooper and his robot pal. The robot is wearing\n a baseball cap and carrying a toolbox.\n \n Cooper gestures to the robot, who sets down the toolbox with\n a click against the mirror-like floor.\n \n ", " their obsolescence.\n \n Murph watches, entranced, as the robots go about their\n business, efficiently TORQUING bolts with impact drivers\n into a non-existent thruster cone. The bolts CLATTER to the\n ground as the robots stop to reload.\n \n MURPH\n What are they doing, dad?\n \n COOPER\n I guess no one told them they were\n out of a job.\n (nods at Tars)\n Same as", " \n COOPER\n Not you?\n \n BRAND\n I'm a biologist.\n 35.\n \n COOPER\n (LAUGHS)\n You don't look like one.\n (off her look)\n With the rifle, I mean.\n \n Brand heads towards a group of large maintenance ROBOTS\n clustered at the base of the rocket. A smaller, human sized\n robot is staring at the rocket, giving them instructions.\n ", ", is an eight-foot-tall military spec ROBOT.\n \n MURPH\n Is it still... alive?\n \n COOPER\n Can't be. It's a marine. Haven't\n made them for thirty years. I've\n never seen one intact before.\n \n Cooper steps closer to the robot, which is frozen. Its alloy\n frame heavily tarnished and weather-beaten. It looks like\n it might have been standing here for decades.\n 28.\n ", " COOPER (CONT'D)\n That should open up most of it.\n \n Case is silent for a beat, parsing the information.\n \n CASE\n They got here twenty years ago. The\n human crew was killed by radiation\n the first day. But the robots\n survived. They built the colony and\n radioed home. But they didn't receive\n a response.\n \n COOPER\n No one was listening.\n \n CASE\n (SCANS DOC", " \n The robot looks up. This is CASE, the leader of the mission.\n Originally an air force pararescue officer, every part of\n him, from his alloy chassis to his voice, was designed to\n inspire respect and confidence. He turns to Cooper.\n \n CASE\n You're the man who brought us the\n probe?\n (off his look)\n Thank you. We tested the telemetry\n board you warned us about. It failed\n under high voltage, just as you said.\n Come", "Cooper shakes his head, annoyed, at the robot, and puts his\n finger to his lips. The robot nods, bashful.\n \n Cooper waves a small handheld computer near the skin of the\n ship until it lights up. Then he punches in a few codes.\n Nothing happens. He punches in a few more.\n 153.\n \n Suddenly, the hatch opens with a HISS.\n \n INT. SHIP\n \n Cooper moves quickly to the cockpit of the ship. Looks", "'t.\n (TO ROBOT)\n You want to let them go, Tars, or do\n you want some help with your work?\n \n The robot, evidently named Tars, looks at Cooper closely.\n Then lets him go.\n \n COOPER\n You've got me wrong, lady.\n \n BRAND\n Really? You're not the kind of guy\n who turns a combat marine with a\n supercomputer for a brain into a\n riding lawn mower?", "\n \n Cooper SMASHES Liu from behind. The robot tumbles to the\n ground, the fight gone out of him.\n \n Cooper and Doyle roll the robot over and Cooper reaches for\n his control module.\n \n LIU (CONT'D)\n No one follows-\n \n Cooper rips the module out. The robot freezes.\n \n Brand is already at the controls, trying to regain control.\n \n The instruments TONE, alerting the crew to their position", ", is a ten story tall rocket.\n Dozens of ROBOTS are working on in, maintaining it.\n \n Cooper, stunned, looks at Brand.\n \n COOPER\n Who are you people?\n \n BRAND\n (WRY)\n The government gave us plenty of\n practice looking for our own funding.\n (gestures with rifle)\n Keep moving.\n \n Tars carries the probe over to an area of the hangar filled\n with electronic equipment. A group", "over\n the controls. The robot straps himself in next to him.\n Cooper looks up through the windows.\n \n The inky black void of space beckons.\n \n Cooper smiles and reaches for the controls.\n \n COOPER\n Where do you want to go first?\n \n The robot thinks it over.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, COOPER STATION\n \n The technician walks back into the hangar. He walks along\n the row of ships till he reaches the last", "his father, steps forward to touch the robot.\n \n Suddenly, the robot SPRINGS into action, picking up the boy\n and hoisting him up to eye level.\n \n Cooper, stunned, points the rifle at the robot.\n \n The robot turns, dropping the boy, RIPS the rifle from\n Cooper's hands, BENDS it, then SLAMS him up against the side\n of the water tank. Cooper punches him, then winces in agony.\n \n Murph picks up the rifle and begins", ".\n \n EXT. FARMHOUSE, COOPER STATION -- TWILIGHT\n \n Cooper sits on his porch, joined by the same robot as before.\n They watch as the space station rotates lazily out of\n alignment with the local star, casting the inside of the\n cylinder into shade, then darkness.\n \n The shadow races past them. Another day. Another night.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, COOPER STATION\n \n A maintenance worker finishes looking over one of the", "with an errant tree branch. He wipes his forehead\n and begins working the branch out of the machine.\n \n He looks miserable.\n \n A robot, a similar unit to Tars, walks over. Offers Cooper\n a bottle of water. Cooper accepts it.\n \n EXT. HANGAR BAY, COOPER STATION\n \n Cooper stands on an observation deck, high above the hangar\n floor. Below him, bright young things in uniforms climb\n into sleek-looking spaceships and prepare to set", ". The engineer opens a bay in the back of the\n frame and Cooper slides the chip inside.\n \n The frame begins its \"handshake\" -- lights illuminate on the\n body, muscles flicker from a long gestation. The eyes open.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n (SMILES)\n Good morning, sunshine.\n 52.\n \n Tars takes one or two steps forward, rotating his arms --\n the robot equivalent of a stretch. Cooper can barely hide\n his mirth", ", more\n comfortable in the zero gravity environment than the humans,\n hauls himself through.\n \n They are greeted by a group of robots painted in the same\n material as the ship -- the engineers who built and have\n maintained the Endurance for thirty years.\n \n INT. MACHINE SHOP, SPACE STATION\n \n One of the robots leads Cooper through a long lab-like room\n filled with machines capable of fabricating almost anything\n imaginable. Cooper looks like a kid in a candy store.\n \n", "ic finger at him.\n \n COOPER\n You plan on keeping us here forever?\n \n TARS\n (SHRUGS)\n My battery has a duty cycle of five\n hundred years.\n \n Cooper gives up. He turns back.\n 34.\n \n The back of the shop is filled with a group of older ROBOTS\n who are overhauling an engine. One problem -- the engine\n isn't there. Their programming hasn't been updated to reflect\n", "\n 115.\n \n The robot turns from them. Cooper notices that the control\n module snapped into the back of Case's chassis is wrong:\n \n It's red with a gold star. It's not Case at all. It's Liu.\n \n LIU\n I'm sorry. I have my orders. No\n one follows...\n \n Liu stares, satisfied, as the nuclear engine spins away from\n the ship and back down toward Pantagruel.", "we need to keep them here\n until afterwards.\n \n COOPER\n You can't keep us here.\n 33.\n \n BRAND\n He could endanger the mission.\n \n COOPER\n I'm not going to endanger it any\n more than you already have.\n \n Cooper points to a telemetry unit that is being repaired by\n a robot on a nearby bench.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Are you using that for guidance", "out the stack and stows it\n against the wall. Cooper copies the procedure.\n \n They labor in silence, working their way along the hull.\n Cooper gets quicker with each bundle, keeping pace with Tars.\n \n TARS\n Be careful. It's difficult to gauge\n mass in zero gravity.\n \n COOPER\n How much do these things weigh?\n \n TARS\n Four tons.\n \n Cooper looks at the incredibly heavy bundle spinning easily\n in his" ], [ ".\n \n Cooper begins to argue, then stops. He knows enough history\n to know she's right. He looks at the withering crops.\n \n COOPER\n (QUIET)\n That's why you're looking for a planet\n with oxygen. Water.\n \n BRAND\n A new home for humanity. We'll set\n up a colony, then return to bring\n more people across.\n \n COOPER\n But you'd still only be able to save", "my resources\n are devoted to human anatomy. Ten\n percent is the mission protocol.\n The rest is human psychology.\n \n COOPER\n Why?\n \n CASE\n We are floating in a total vacuum in\n a plastic ship powered by nuclear\n engines. But the most dangerous\n thing onboard is the three pounds of\n organic material in your skull.\n \n COOPER\n If we're such a liability, why take\n us along? You and Tars could build\n the colony", " organisms here, even predatory ones,\n they're not going to attack us --\n they have no idea what we are.\n \n COOPER\n You don't know that. You just have\n blind faith this place is going to\n be some kind of Eden.\n \n Brand stops. He's struck a nerve.\n \n BRAND\n (truly pissed off)\n Faith has nothing to do with it.\n You know what you are, Cooper? You're\n ", "trying\n to help us.\n \n Brand looks satisfied.\n \n DOYLE\n So you think we'll have no problem\n navigating between two massive black\n holes to a tiny planet?\n \n ROTH\n I think we'll probably be killed.\n (off his look)\n I said I thought there was a plan.\n Not that the plan was for us to find\n a planet like Earth to save a handful\n of people.\n (SHAKES HEAD)\n ", "move here from planetary colonies\n all the time.\n 147.\n \n COOPER\n Where... where are we?\n \n DOCTOR\n Like I said. It was a coincidence.\n There was a facility closer to Earth,\n but they had a problem, so you wound\n up here.\n (off his look)\n This is the Space Station Joseph A.\n Cooper.\n \n Cooper takes in the incredible surroundings. A thousand\n feet above them, black specks are sprink", " \n Cooper looks at her, confused. As he does, the entire rocket\n SHAKES as the primary rockets begin to fire.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n If we find a habitable environment,\n I'm staying behind to build the\n colony.\n \n Brand wipes her tears away and settles into the same fearless\n mask she usually wears. She steals one last look out the\n window at Earth, then looks back.\n \n Cooper begins to say something, but stops", "forming a crude two-stage rocket\n designed more for a robot than a man.\n \n When it's complete Roth wedges himself inside, clutching the\n black box -- he barely fits.\n \n ROTH\n I can reach one of the moons in low\n orbit and turn up its gravity. As\n it passes overhead it should be able\n to slingshot the lander away from\n the planet's surface.\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Along with everything else.\n ", "down from their suits and are\n breathing in the pure oxygen atmosphere.\n \n Case and Cooper are pulling modular pieces from their\n equipment packs to form a small shelter.\n \n Brand is taking readings with her instruments.\n \n BRAND\n Oxygen atmosphere. Pure water.\n Temperate climate.\n (TO COOPER)\n You still think this is a coincidence?\n \n Cooper looks at the tree line, less convinced.\n \n COOPER\n Looks like we", "We don't belong\n in any one place. Can't you see\n that now? Not Earth. Not this place.\n Nowhere. If the human race is going\n to survive, we need to keep moving.\n Split up. Spread out. Fly. With\n this, we can.\n \n Case looks at the box. Makes a decision.\n \n CASE\n In the morning we're taking this and\n going home.\n \n Doyle, Roth and Case set about making preparations to", "is a massive, fortified base.\n \n INT. CHINESE FORTIFIED COLONY -- DAY\n \n Massive blast doors, long since smashed in, open onto a\n building that has been overrun by the local fractal wildlife.\n \n Case steps inside first, his worklights flickering on. Cooper\n and the others follow him in.\n \n INT. MESS HALL, CHINESE COLONY -- DAY\n \n The room is barely recognizable -- the fractal life has\n", "ing\n the ice planet.\n \n The rocket fires to maneuver closer and closer to the moon's\n surface -- the tiny moon doesn't provide enough gravity to\n attract it.\n \n When the rocket is close enough, Roth detonates the explosive\n bolts holding him inside and leaps for the moon's surface.\n \n He scrambles to grab hold of the craggy surface. Behind\n him, the rocket smashes apart against the surface.\n \n Roth finally gets a good", "from the ice planet is belted securely\n into one of the seats, filled with the garbled machine code\n of the gravitational machine.\n \n COOPER\n The probe...\n \n Doyle looks back.\n \n DOYLE\n We get back to earth, you and I can\n try to make sense of the code.\n Rebuild the gravity machine.\n \n Cooper stares at it, suddenly realizing something. He\n unbuckles himself.\n \n Cooper stands and walks over", "that whoever\n built the wormhole has a better plan\n than we did. If I'm wrong, we'll\n die, same as we'd die here anyway.\n \n DOYLE\n What do you think, Roth?\n \n Roth leans forward, studying the map.\n \n ROTH\n If we're guessing, then I'd say\n Brand's right. The wormhole couldn't\n exist naturally. I think it's there\n for a reason. That someone is", ".\n \n Liu's tone remains polite, but there's no hope of changing\n his mind. Cooper takes a sidelong glance at Brand.\n \n COOPER\n (LOW)\n They're never going to let us go.\n \n BRAND\n (TO LIU)\n Your mission is a humanitarian one,\n wasn't it? You were sent to start a\n colony. Like us.\n \n LIU\n Our mission was to prepare for the\n", "A\n massive version of the box we found\n on the ice planet, allowing the entire\n human population to escape.\n \n At a given moment, the gravity of the Earth is dropped to\n nothing and the massive ships, filled with the entire\n 132.\n \n population of the Earth, lift gently off of the planet in\n search of greener pastures.\n \n Cooper turns away from the machine, bitter.\n \n COOPER\n So why didn't they return? Why didn't\n they", "\n You really think we're the last humans\n alive anywhere?\n \n BRAND\n I don't know. Maybe.\n (looks him in the eye)\n Yes.\n \n COOPER\n So that's it, then? That's all?\n \n He looks down, saddened by his own words.\n \n BRAND\n (QUIET)\n It's happened a billion times over.\n Stars explode. The pieces drift in\n ", "to expect. We experimented with\n collective organisms in high g\n environments.\n \n COOPER\n We're taking ants with us?\n \n BRAND\n Humans are also collective organisms.\n 45.\n \n COOPER\n I thought humans were more solitary.\n \n BRAND\n (WRY)\n Why am I not surprised?\n \n Cooper looks at the tiny colonies of ants struggling to go\n about their business in", "Pantagruel, the\n sky slowing as the orbit grows longer.\n \n Finally, a tiny speck of light appears in front of the ship.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Roth watches as the Endurance races back away from the black\n hole and into a perfect orbit around a tiny ice planet.\n \n Roth looks up from his screen, smiling.\n \n ROTH\n We're here.\n \n INT. OBSERV", "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", " The barracks are pristine -- hundreds of perfectly made beds,\n waiting for colonists who never came, like one of the bunkers\n the federal government used to keep in case of nuclear winter.\n \n DOYLE\n Look at the size of this place.\n They built it for thousands of people.\n But no one came.\n \n Brand looks around, determined.\n \n BRAND\n They will. We can salvage it. This\n place will save us years.\n 92.\n " ], [ " \n Cooper shivers, pressed against the wall. The storm is still\n raging outside. He is freezing to death. He has to move\n now or he will die. He pulls the hood tight around his face\n and stumbles outside.\n \n EXT. SNOWBOUND FIELD -- DAY\n \n Cooper makes his way through the blinding snow. He tries to\n find his way, but the ship has been consumed by the blizzard.\n \n He stumbles to the ground, dropping the glass", "the house, blasting Cooper and pelting what's left of the\n structure with fist-sized hail.\n \n Cooper takes shelter against the remaining wall. He's going\n to have to sit this one out -- the hail and winds are the\n brutal descendants of the weather he knew. They'll finish\n him off if he steps back outside.\n \n As he watches, the pool of water on the kitchen floor freezes\n over in seconds.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED FARMHOUSE -- DAWN\n", "ing on the edge of death.\n \n The old man looks at him, eyes widening in excitement. He\n strains, trying to reach the bedside table. He's trying to\n reach the drawer. Cooper helps him open it.\n \n Inside is a simple, familiar wristwatch. The old man\n carefully takes out the watch. He gives the watch a few\n winds and, hands shaking, offers it to Cooper.\n \n Cooper, eyes filling with tears, closes his hand over the\n old man's hand, envelop", "bed, fully clothed, exhausted. He\n stares up at the ceiling. This is his life.\n \n INT. BEDROOM, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n The air is filled with a PIERCING NOISE.\n \n Cooper BOLTS upright. Stumbles out the door.\n \n INT. HALLWAY, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper's boys are in the hallway, exhausted. Cooper, holding\n a baseball bat, makes", " one hand on the frame.\n \n DONALD (CONT'D)\n You were good at something and you\n never got a chance to do anything\n with it. And I'm sorry, Coop. But\n that's not your kids' fault.\n \n Donald pushes out the screen door.\n \n Cooper looks at his beer. The probe CHIRPS.\n \n INT. BEDROOM, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper flops down on his", "\n them will push them over the top.\n Maybe that's part of the plan.\n \n COOPER\n (shakes his head)\n The plan.\n \n BRAND\n Why is it so hard for you to accept\n that someone might be trying to help\n us?\n \n Cooper is silent for a moment. His mood darkens.\n \n COOPER\n I was in Denver during the first\n year of the famine. I was just a\n kid. We kept waiting", "?\n \n COOPER\n We're going to find out soon enough.\n \n Brand is looking off into the distance.\n \n BRAND\n Someone's coming.\n \n Cooper looks up. A robotlike figure is limping through the\n snowstorm towards them. Cooper raises the rifle.\n \n Finally he makes out the insignia -- it's Case.\n \n Cooper and Doyle run out towards him. They reach Case as he\n collapses in the snow. He", "for someone to\n come help us. People starved to\n death sitting on the ground, waiting\n for someone to come.\n (MORE)\n 90.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n (looks at her)\n I only made it because I realized\n that nobody was coming to save us.\n We were on our own.\n \n Cooper looks away. The memories are never that far away.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Honestly? After the things I saw", "Besides, I'll be here to look after\n them, same as I've always been.\n \n COOPER\n I have a responsibility to them--\n \n DONALD\n That's right. You do.\n 41.\n \n Cooper looks back out the window, thinking. The night sky\n is filled with stars.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n INT. FARMHOUSE -- DAY\n \n Cooper, duffel slung over his shoulder,", "heads into the forest to look for him.\n \n EXT. CLEARING, SANTA CRUZ ISLAND -- DAY\n \n Cooper walks through a glade. He stops to get his bearings.\n Leans against a tree. Snatches his hand back -- the trunk\n of the tree is red hot.\n \n Cooper steps back -- it's not a tree at all, but a camouflaged\n chimney stack. He looks up: the tree is venting steam.\n \n Cooper walks", "OPER\n I'm sorry. I have to find out what\n happened to my sons. I promised\n them.\n \n Brand sees the resolve in his eyes. Knows there's no way to\n change his mind.\n \n BRAND\n You're a man who keeps his promises.\n Make me one-\n \n She takes his hand.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n After you're done... come find me.\n \n COOPER\n I", "\n \n Cooper's airplane touches down heavily on the runway.\n \n EXT. FARMHOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper carries his sleeping son into the house.\n \n INT. FARMHOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Donald is sitting at the kitchen table, lost in thought.\n Cooper has told him everything.\n \n DONALD\n You get older, sometimes you just\n want to sit back and watch it all\n play out. Your life. Your kids'\n ", "looks a\n little off. He walks over.\n \n He pokes at the undergrowth with his rifle. The rifle CLANKS\n against something metal. Cooper reaches -- it's a camouflage\n scrim. He gently pulls it aside, revealing a chemical\n transport truck.\n \n Cooper steps back, alarmed. He brings up his rifle.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n He looks around. Murph is nowhere to be seen. Cooper curses\n and", "t ever\n go back. Our home is gone.\n (off his look)\n You listened to all of those messages\n from your family. If you had made\n it back, we would already know.\n There would already be some evidence.\n \n Cooper looks at the machine.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n If you try to use it, you'll die,\n just like the people who built it.\n \n She puts an arm on his shoulder.\n \n BRAND", "\n He SMASHES it with the bat. Nothing. He HITS it AGAIN and\n AGAIN. Finally, the clamps break off chunks of the table\n and the probe slams to the ground and ROLLS toward the front\n door. As it rolls, it STOPS SHRIEKING.\n \n Cooper and the others watch it roll toward the door. It\n stops at the wall. After a second, it begins SHRIEKING AGAIN.\n \n Cooper grabs it and rolls it toward the", "OM\n What are we going to do?\n \n Cooper gets a rope.\n \n COOPER\n We're going to get some sleep.\n \n He begins tying the rope around the probe.\n \n INT. BEDROOM, COOPER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Cooper wakes. He's been sleeping with a pillow wrapped around\n his head. The SHRIEK can be heard, but it's muffled, distant.\n 25.\n \n INT", "his way down the stairs.\n \n Cooper uses the bat to open the kitchen door.\n \n INT. KITCHEN, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper steps in, Murph watching from behind him.\n 24.\n \n The probe is clamped to the table, the chirp replaced with a\n DEAFENING SCREAM.\n \n Cooper, holding his ears, moves closer to the probe. He\n hits it with the paddles. No result.\n ", ".\n \n Cooper opens his mouth to talk, but his voice is cracked.\n He gives up. Swallows the pill.\n \n DOCTOR (CONT'D)\n Wait a minute for that to take effect.\n It can be a bit of an adjustment.\n (looks him over)\n You had some frostbite. Nothing too\n serious.\n \n As she talks, Cooper looks past her to the window.\n \n COOPER\n Where am I?\n \n ", " EXT. COLLAPSED HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Remarkably, part of Cooper's old house is still standing.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Cooper stands in the middle of his kitchen. Two walls are\n missing and the rest is collapsed in a heap. But he can\n still see where he used to feed his kids breakfast.\n \n He has kept his promise. Several hundred years too late.\n \n Cooper hunkers down, staring at the space where his", "all gone. I'm sorry, son.\n It got home too late.\n \n Donald pulls his chowder off the boil and slides the pot\n unceremoniously onto the table.\n \n INT. DINING ROOM -- NIGHT\n \n The boys have gone to bed. Cooper and Donald are alone at\n the table. Donald hands Cooper another beer.\n \n DONALD\n I heard your meeting at the school\n didn't go so well.\n \n Cooper shakes his" ], [ " scraping at the ice and snow.\n \n Case hits something solid. But it's not a probe. He digs\n around a little more, then reaches up and hacks away at the\n hillside, revealing the outline of something metal:\n \n A door. They're not standing at the base of a hill -- it's\n a shelter. The crew stands back, unsure what to make of it.\n \n A few feet away, Cooper cuts enough of the mound away to\n reveal something flexible -- fabric caked with", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "trapped\n in the ice.\n \n Case leads the way, drawn by a signal only he can hear. He\n walks fifty yards, then stops on a gentle slope that leads\n down into a small valley.\n 72.\n \n CASE\n The other probes should be directly\n beneath us.\n \n Case and the others begin digging into the hillside. Cooper\n is drawn to a small mound in the middle of the valley, four\n feet high. He takes out a small folding shovel and begins\n", " \n COOPER\n But why didn't they come?\n \n BRAND\n (SHRUGS)\n The Chinese government collapsed,\n same as ours. The people who knew\n about this mission probably died\n years ago. We had the same problems.\n \n Roth finds a sign he likes the look of -- it points to the\n science levels.\n \n INT. LABORATORY, CHINESE COLONY -- DAY\n \n A massive door GRINDS open and", " \n Cooper is riding in a small rubber zodiac struggling to pull\n on a wetsuit. Brand is GUNNING the engine, guiding the tiny\n craft to a point in the middle of the bay.\n \n COOPER\n I was wondering where you've been\n getting your supplies.\n \n BRAND\n We knew we'd need decades of parts\n and materials. The government was\n getting rid of some things. So we\n arranged to take some off their hands.\n \n She cuts", "heads into the forest to look for him.\n \n EXT. CLEARING, SANTA CRUZ ISLAND -- DAY\n \n Cooper walks through a glade. He stops to get his bearings.\n Leans against a tree. Snatches his hand back -- the trunk\n of the tree is red hot.\n \n Cooper steps back -- it's not a tree at all, but a camouflaged\n chimney stack. He looks up: the tree is venting steam.\n \n Cooper walks", " \n Cooper shivers, pressed against the wall. The storm is still\n raging outside. He is freezing to death. He has to move\n now or he will die. He pulls the hood tight around his face\n and stumbles outside.\n \n EXT. SNOWBOUND FIELD -- DAY\n \n Cooper makes his way through the blinding snow. He tries to\n find his way, but the ship has been consumed by the blizzard.\n \n He stumbles to the ground, dropping the glass", "astonished.\n \n OLD ENGINEER\n Where did you find it?\n \n COOPER\n Galveston.\n \n BRAND'S FATHER\n (thinking it over)\n Of course. It must have been looking\n for Canaveral.\n \n Tars bolts the probe down into a purpose built rig. DOYLE,\n 40s, an engineer, begins hooking leads into the probe.\n \n COOPER\n Cana", "Cooper checks his rad meter. A tiny reading -- non-lethal.\n He takes off his watch and hands it to Riggs. Then he slides\n down into the hole.\n \n The probe CHIRPS as Cooper slides down on top of it. He\n rubs a hand across its smooth composite bulk.\n \n RIGGS\n (FROM ABOVE)\n You think it's an alien?\n \n Cooper wipes sand off of the object, revealing the faint,\n familiar outline etched into the side of", "down from their suits and are\n breathing in the pure oxygen atmosphere.\n \n Case and Cooper are pulling modular pieces from their\n equipment packs to form a small shelter.\n \n Brand is taking readings with her instruments.\n \n BRAND\n Oxygen atmosphere. Pure water.\n Temperate climate.\n (TO COOPER)\n You still think this is a coincidence?\n \n Cooper looks at the tree line, less convinced.\n \n COOPER\n Looks like we", "looks a\n little off. He walks over.\n \n He pokes at the undergrowth with his rifle. The rifle CLANKS\n against something metal. Cooper reaches -- it's a camouflage\n scrim. He gently pulls it aside, revealing a chemical\n transport truck.\n \n Cooper steps back, alarmed. He brings up his rifle.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n He looks around. Murph is nowhere to be seen. Cooper curses\n and", "A woman, 30s, step out from the trees. This is AMELIA BRAND --\n tough, bright, and a decent shot with the large rifle that\n she's pointing at Cooper.\n \n COOPER\n We were just looking for salvage.\n \n BRAND\n Is that what they call stealing these\n days?\n \n COOPER\n I didn't know it belonged to anyone.\n 29. \n \n BRAND\n It doesn", "down. Half of 'em\n took off last night, looking for\n something.\n (points to dunes)\n Looks like they found it, too. I\n thought you were the man to see it.\n \n Riggs starts walking up the dune. Cooper follows.\n \n Below, on the beach, a dozen more combines and other farming\n vehicles are lined up at the tideline, warm gulf water lapping\n at their metal flanks. They are circling a deep crater.\n 20.\n ", "earth.\n \n Roth picks up an ancient vacuum sealed package of pickled\n egg. Virtually none of the rations have been eaten.\n \n EXT. VALLEY, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand scrape ice from one of the other small hills\n surrounding the valley, revealing another structure. Cooper\n forces the door open.\n \n INT. BARRACKS, CHINESE BASE CAMP, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand let", "the house, blasting Cooper and pelting what's left of the\n structure with fist-sized hail.\n \n Cooper takes shelter against the remaining wall. He's going\n to have to sit this one out -- the hail and winds are the\n brutal descendants of the weather he knew. They'll finish\n him off if he steps back outside.\n \n As he watches, the pool of water on the kitchen floor freezes\n over in seconds.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED FARMHOUSE -- DAWN\n", "old --\n the ice has reformed at the bottom.\n \n BRAND\n I'm going to descend to take some\n samples. Cooper, want to make\n yourself useful?\n \n Cooper begins to say something, then bites his tongue.\n \n EXT. LANDER -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper emerges, loaded down with several containers of Brand's\n equipment.\n \n As he struggles through the wind and snow, his radio picks\n up data chatter between the mother ship and", "\n Come on.\n \n Cooper picks up the rifle from the destroyed marine and begins\n hiking up the mountain.\n \n EXT. MOUNTAIN PEAK -- DAY\n \n The crew hike towards the ice above.\n \n Below they hear a metallic BOOM as something heavy hits\n something else -- Case is still fighting. They keep moving.\n \n EXT. UPPER MOUNTAIN PEAK -- TWILIGHT\n \n They are high above the Marine camp, only fifty feet", "a little further, until he finds several massive\n tanks. The tanks are filling with a bubbling liquid -- some\n kind of industrial process is taking place beneath him.\n \n Cooper finally catches up with Murph at the edge of a\n clearing.\n \n COOPER\n Careful. There's some kind of\n underground facility here. We\n might...\n \n Cooper notices his son is frozen, staring at something:\n \n Standing bolt upright in the middle of the clearing, wearing\n an old straw hat", "found in Texas.\n \n DOYLE\n The Chinese must have captured them.\n So they couldn't return to us.\n \n The crew stare at the probes for a moment, taking it in.\n \n BRAND\n Then how did the probe that Cooper\n found return?\n 73.\n \n ROTH\n The more immediate question is what\n happened to the Chinese expedition.\n There's no sign of their ship in\n orbit. And they never returned to\n ", "while Cooper works at it with a blowtorch.\n \n -- Tars pulls the probe out of the back of a plane.\n \n -- Brand's father, older, studies the probe. Gives up.\n \n -- Much later. People are moving around in the darkened\n base, scavenging equipment.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. FIELD -- DAY\n \n A combine harvester is dead in a field, service hatch opened.\n A MAN is lying" ], [ "hole at incredible\n speed -- one revolution every four seconds. The crew are\n suddenly SLAMMED against the hull in opposite directions --\n some towards the black hole, some towards the opposite side.\n \n Roth looks at his model, which shows the projected path of\n the ship. It looks perilously close to the event horizon.\n \n ROTH\n It's the tidal gravity caused by the\n black hole. It means we're right on\n the critical orbit.\n \n The comms screen lights up,", "a black heart.\n 46.\n \n ROTH\n No. A black hole. There are several\n in the region, but this is the largest --\n a billion times heavier than the\n sun. I call it Gargantua.\n (SMILES)\n Beautiful, isn't it? It's a shame\n we won't get to see it up close.\n \n DOYLE\n (LAUGHS)\n You'd like that, wouldn't you, Roth", "AMS them against the walls of\n the ship.\n \n Finally, the thrusters fire again -- a tiny push, but just\n enough to launch the ship clear of the black hole, like a\n rock out of a slingshot.\n \n The ship races toward the massive hole in the sky below them:\n \n GARGANTUA\n \n EXT. SPACE AROUND GARGANTUA\n \n The ship picks up more and more speed as it soars closer to\n the massive black hole's", "Fire the engines. Now.\n \n The ship's engines FIRE, straining to fight the irresistible\n pull of the supermassive black hole. They won't be able to\n fight it for long.\n \n DOYLE\n We're being pulled into it?\n \n ROTH\n No. I don't think so...\n \n Roth looks at the instrumentation for a moment.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n It appears to be pulling", "ates as it is pulled by the irresistible\n force of the black hole onto an inspiraling orbit.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew watch as the ship hurtles around the black hole at\n higher and higher speeds.\n \n The sky overhead begins to spin due to their motion -- faster\n and faster until it becomes a blur. The ship begins to GROAN\n as it appears to be pulled in two different directions.\n \n The ship is now speeding around the black", " \n ROTH\n The smaller black hole. We're much\n closer to it than the models\n predicted. We're being pulled by\n its swirl. Very quickly.\n \n The crew looks out through the hull. They are being pulled\n into Pantagruel's swirl -- a glittering disc of matter\n spinning at high speed around the hole.\n \n Doyle looks behind them. The wormhole mouth is rapidly\n growing smaller.\n \n CASE\n Doyle.", "rest of our solar system around the black hole.\n \n ANSEN\n It didn't. Because if it had we'd\n all be dead by now.\n \n On-screen, Jupiter, then the Earth and the inner planets are\n consumed by the black hole. Only the sun survives, pulled\n into orbit around its new master.\n \n ANSEN (CONT'D)\n Which leaves only one explanation:\n The signal traveled through a\n (MORE)\n 4. \n ", "itself: a BLACK HOLE.\n \n The neutron star is pulled into the black hole's swirl,\n spiraling closer and closer to destruction. Finally, it\n contacts the hole's edge and EXPLODES.\n \n The EXPLOSION is so powerful that it sends shock waves into\n the fabric of space-time itself. We ride one of these waves,\n racing back out from the black hole.\n \n Suddenly, a portion of the wave disappears down a crystal-\n like hole, emerging in a", "\n Black holes are a more stable supply\n of power than stars in many ways.\n \n COOPER\n You really think there's a plan?\n \n BRAND\n I hope so.\n (looks at him)\n You don't?\n \n COOPER\n I guess I just think we're on our\n own.\n \n Cooper looks at the impossibly complicated system of black\n holes orbiting each other.\n \n EXT. LAGRANGE PO", "\n united -- they are, in all likelihood, the sole survivors of\n their planet.\n \n Doyle points to the instruments.\n \n DOYLE\n The wormhole. Look -- it's being\n pulled into the black hole as well.\n \n They watch on the holographic model as the wormhole's orbit\n converges on the event horizon of the black hole.\n \n BRAND\n It's orbit mirrored the ice planet's.\n \n CO", "smaller black hole that\n is orbiting Gargantua.\n \n CASE\n We're headed for this smaller black\n hole. Roth calls it Pantagruel. We\n think the ice planet is here-\n \n Case draws a finger through the air, leaving a red trail.\n He traces the trajectory their ship will take.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n We exit the wormhole here. And we\n slingshot around Pantagruel to reach\n the ice planet.", " (points to screen)\n That? What is it?\n \n Brand looks. In one tiny region on the back side of the\n black hole, the debris simply seems to vanish.\n \n BRAND\n It's another wormhole.\n \n Doyle FIRES the thrusters again, pushing the ship towards\n the wormhole.\n \n EXT. SPACE AROUND GARGANTUA\n \n The Endurance spins, shifting paths slightly as it continues\n to race closer and closer", "slowing down?\n \n ROTH\n We're being pulled towards the event\n horizon.\n \n ALARMS begin sounding throughout the ship as the projected\n course on Roth's model shifts, showing the Endurance being\n pushed up the rim, past the critical orbit and down towards\n the black hole's event horizon.\n \n Case takes control of the ship, trying to fire the engines\n forwards to speed them back up to safety, but it's too late.\n \n CASE\n", "\n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n Instead of reversing course, the Endurance begins to speed\n up, as it plummets closer and closer to the black hole.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Doyle's face sinks as he watches the controls -- on the\n 'volcano' model, the ship is now passing the crest and\n spiraling towards destruction. He has made a tragic mistake.\n \n DOYLE\n Why isn't it", "hole.\n \n WHITENESS.\n \n As the light fades, Cooper and the others come to.\n \n The light is rapidly dimming from pure white, fading to a\n deep red, then infrared, finally darkness.\n \n Cooper looks out. Checks the instruments. Looks out again.\n \n EXT. VACUUM\n \n Nothing. Blackness as far as the eye can see. No stars.\n No planets. Just inky darkness stretching on forever.\n", "ship's guidance, they watch, helpless, as the ship\n climbs back up the volcano rim towards the critical orbit.\n \n As on their first trip, the black hole grows to dominate the\n bottom of the sky, and the stars above them become streaks --\n time is speeding for them as they are whirled down into the\n deep gravity well around the hole.\n \n As they watch, trapped, decades begin to play out in the\n system above them. They watch as the ice planet whirls around\n them,", "in. Then nothing.\n \n Case looks at the screen.\n \n Suddenly, the ship is JOLTED as the engines fire at full\n power.\n \n The crew looks over. Doyle is standing by the controls.\n \n DOYLE\n I'm sorry. I can't let you kill us.\n We have to go back.\n \n The engines strain to fight the swirl -- but they're\n hopelessly outgunned by the gravity of the black hole.\n ", "hole mouth.\n \n Cooper takes a deep breath as the center of the ship begins\n gently lowering itself into the wormhole mouth, feeding itself\n into the wormhole from the inside out. Cooper watches as\n Doyle is swallowed into the compressing ship with a GRUNT.\n \n TARS\n Would you like me to make a joke?\n \n COOPER\n (FIRM)\n No.\n \n Cooper's turn: he is fed into the hole, legs first, then\n waist,", "\n it's going to come close.\n \n A tiny black hole soars through the system. Although it\n misses the ice planet, it deflects its orbit by a tiny degree.\n After a dozen more orbits, the ice planet dips down close to\n Pantagruel's event horizon and is torn apart.\n \n Brand and the others watch as the sequence rewinds and repeats --\n the planet is pieced back together again and ejected, then\n pulled back in and torn apart. Over and over.", "event horizon.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The sky closes to a tiny hole above them. Gargantua is\n swallowing their view.\n \n Cooper looks at the radar, which is choked with debris.\n \n DOYLE\n We only have a few minutes before\n we're swallowed into that thing.\n What are we even looking for?\n \n On the radar, a tiny empty spot appears.\n \n COOPER\n" ], [ "filling with discarded clothes, different colors\n and shapes, like a ticker tape parade.\n \n In the center of the cabin, Brand and Cooper make love.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE -- LATER\n \n Cooper and Brand embrace, sleeping, drifting in the cabin.\n \n Suddenly, Doyle's voice calls out from the other cabin.\n \n DOYLE (O.S.)\n It's happening... it's happening\n again... Get up", " \n At the center, like a king at the center of his court, is\n Gargantua, plasma jets spewing from its poles.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew pull themselves back into the control deck from the\n outer hull. Their incredible surroundings are visible in\n all directions as Endurance passes the light into the cabin.\n \n CASE\n Reconfigure the engines and test the\n communications array.\n \n The crew break themselves away from", " \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The lander detaches from Endurance, rolls over on its belly,\n and FIRES thrusters to sink towards the planet's surface.\n \n INT. LANDER\n \n The crew watches, fascinated, as the ship descends, navigating\n between the moons that hurtle past.\n \n The moons are vastly different than our own; potato shaped\n and only one to two miles in circumference, they are hug", "sending the ball bearings\n scattering. He hurries to the instruments. The ship is\n moving -- picking up speed at a huge rate.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n They're moving us.\n \n DOYLE\n Where?\n \n They stand, looking out into the perfect darkness.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, VACUUM\n \n The ship begins to close in on something in the darkness: a\n tiny point of light.\n \n As", " \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n If the modelling was wrong, then we\n can't be sure about anything. We\n need to go back.\n \n Case thinks it over. Decides.\n \n CASE\n Shut down the engines.\n \n The engines shut down.\n \n SILENCE. The ship drifts for a moment in the swirl, then\n begins to move.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n The ship acceler", "Endurance.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Brand, Cooper, and Doyle pull themselves out of the airlock\n and scramble to take control of the ship.\n \n Below them, the surface of the ice planet illuminates as the\n neutron star's x-rays begin to reach it from the far side of\n Pantagruel.\n \n Doyle finally gets the ship straightened out. Its sole\n remaining engine FIRES, rocketing the ship", "over their work.\n \n COOPER\n You could have taken one of the other\n ships.\n \n BRAND\n This one's done all right by us so\n far.\n \n Brand holds up a small sample case containing half of the\n fractal life-form.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Will you take this with you? It's\n the last of its kind as well. Thought\n we should double its chances of\n survival. In case I'", "\n to have you here with us.\n \n Cooper smiles, uncomfortable.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR (CONT'D)\n None of us would be here without the\n efforts of you and the other\n crewmembers of the Endurance.\n (smiles, unconvincingly)\n So I don't want you to take this the\n wrong way. But there are some\n questions I've been told to ask.\n \n The man looks petrified, like he's been instructed to gr", "badly smashed.\n 77.\n \n He pulls off the hand and continues to hack away at the ice\n with the stump, trying to save his crew.\n \n Brand is examining a piece of ice in her hands, which contains\n several black flecks. As she shines her light on them, they\n FLUORESCE, giving off a tiny flicker of light, like a firefly.\n Brand steps back.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n These things... they're alive.", "crystal-like mouth. Finally, it envelops the mouth,\n bringing it into the open chamber.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n As the crew watch, the wormhole mouth is positioned in the\n center of the inner compartment.\n \n Case presses a sequence key on the control panel and the\n ship's hull closes again, trapping the wormhole inside it.\n \n With a GRUMBLE, the ship begins contracting, squeezing itself\n down around the worm", "my resources\n are devoted to human anatomy. Ten\n percent is the mission protocol.\n The rest is human psychology.\n \n COOPER\n Why?\n \n CASE\n We are floating in a total vacuum in\n a plastic ship powered by nuclear\n engines. But the most dangerous\n thing onboard is the three pounds of\n organic material in your skull.\n \n COOPER\n If we're such a liability, why take\n us along? You and Tars could build\n the colony", "Pantagruel, the\n sky slowing as the orbit grows longer.\n \n Finally, a tiny speck of light appears in front of the ship.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Roth watches as the Endurance races back away from the black\n hole and into a perfect orbit around a tiny ice planet.\n \n Roth looks up from his screen, smiling.\n \n ROTH\n We're here.\n \n INT. OBSERV", "\n \n Roth joins her, looking down at the tiny creatures trapped\n in the ice. Brand shines her flashlight over the ice again,\n but nothing happens. Roth takes the depth meter dangling by\n a lanyard from Brand's suit.\n \n ROTH\n It's not your light they're responding\n to. It's this--\n \n Roth takes the depth meter and waves it over the ice.\n Suddenly, the black flecks begin to shine.\n \n BRAN", " canvas studded with points of light -- like looking into the\n universe through the wrong end of a telescope.\n \n Cooper presses himself against the wall and holds on as the\n hull beneath him opens outward.\n \n EXT. WARPED SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE\n \n The Endurance emerges from the opposite end of the wormhole\n from the inside out. It drifts in space.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n For a moment,", "it.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE\n \n Tars rips out the cooling circuitry. Then, holding on tight,\n he fires the engine.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew watch as Tars holds the engine, blasting it at full\n power into the swirl. The engine heats up white-hot.\n \n ROTH\n Prime the remaining engine. When he\n detonates it, we'll only have a few", "last trip past the black hole\n cost us another 100, maybe 200 years.\n Which means there's a good chance\n we're the only humans alive anywhere.\n 121.\n \n She stands up.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n I think the last human beings should\n have a little more fight in them\n than that.\n \n Brand picks up the sample of fractal life and places it under\n a lamp on the counter. It freezes, absorbing", "\n transit. Then he tethers himself to the hull wall.\n \n Case is the last to join them. He detaches a small control\n module from the console, then pulls himself into the outer\n hull and seals the passageway.\n \n Case presses a button on the control module. With a GROAN,\n the hull walls of the ship begin to BEND.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The ship's hull begins to CRACK open, revealing the inner", "engines disengage themselves from the ship.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The nuclear engines drift a safe distance back from the ship\n and then snap tight on their tether.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew move into the tight, claustrophobic outer layer of\n the ship. They will have very little room as the ship passes\n through the wormhole.\n \n Tars detaches his legs in order to take up less space during", "torso, and, finally, his head.\n \n EXT. SPACE\n \n The Endurance shrinks as it sinks from the inside out into\n the wormhole.\n \n After a moment, it's gone. The only thing left behind is\n the comms relay, drifting in space, waiting for a signal.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The ship continues to slide through the wormhole. Through\n the outer hull they see images of themselves repeating -- a", "\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Days go by. They check the instruments. Still nothing.\n It's as if they have left the known universe altogether.\n 120.\n \n INT. COMMUNICATIONS ROOM, ENDURANCE\n \n Doyle sits down. After a moment, he turns on the screen and\n cues up a message.\n \n His children appear on-screen, giggling, pushing each other,\n trying to get a prime" ], [ "from the ice planet is belted securely\n into one of the seats, filled with the garbled machine code\n of the gravitational machine.\n \n COOPER\n The probe...\n \n Doyle looks back.\n \n DOYLE\n We get back to earth, you and I can\n try to make sense of the code.\n Rebuild the gravity machine.\n \n Cooper stares at it, suddenly realizing something. He\n unbuckles himself.\n \n Cooper stands and walks over", "the raised gravity.\n \n COOPER\n Looks like hard work.\n \n BRAND\n It's a paradox. Life couldn't form\n without gravity. No stars. No\n planets. The component pieces would\n just drift apart. But too much of\n it and you're trapped.\n \n Brand's guard relaxes a tiny bit as she talks about her work.\n The moment passes quickly, and she continues on into the\n stack of equipment.\n \n INT. MISSION CON", "This is the period\n in which we'll lose time.\n \n COOPER\n Lose time?\n \n Roth shifts the hologram -- the stars and black holes flatten\n onto a sheet that bends, revealing the curvature of gravity.\n \n ROTH\n High speed or high gravity both slow\n down time, relative to earth.\n (MORE)\n 47.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n The trip around the black hole will\n take", "to. But they failed.\n Like us they were fixated on this\n place.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n They didn't realize they had already\n found something that would save us\n all.\n (holds up the box)\n This. This is the prize.\n \n He holds up the box.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n Don't you see? Earth's gravity is\n like a prison. But", "\n it's going to come close.\n \n A tiny black hole soars through the system. Although it\n misses the ice planet, it deflects its orbit by a tiny degree.\n After a dozen more orbits, the ice planet dips down close to\n Pantagruel's event horizon and is torn apart.\n \n Brand and the others watch as the sequence rewinds and repeats --\n the planet is pieced back together again and ejected, then\n pulled back in and torn apart. Over and over.", ", slowing\n down the passage of time, reversing it, speeding it up.\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n Look.\n \n Doyle speeds up the map until the ice planet is nearly a\n blur, speeding in its orbit around Pantagruel.\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n There's a small black hole moving\n into the system. Too small for us\n to have seen in our survey. It's\n not going to hit the planet, but", "is looking at the tiny black box\n he's pried from the center of the sphere. Cooper is looking\n over his shoulder.\n \n COOPER\n They found a way to make gravity.\n \n ROTH\n Not make it. Adjust it. Dial it\n up, or down. I think they were\n experimenting with it -- firing these\n into the black hole to try to save\n this planet.\n \n DOYLE\n All that from one tiny box.\n \n ", "\n Black holes are a more stable supply\n of power than stars in many ways.\n \n COOPER\n You really think there's a plan?\n \n BRAND\n I hope so.\n (looks at him)\n You don't?\n \n COOPER\n I guess I just think we're on our\n own.\n \n Cooper looks at the impossibly complicated system of black\n holes orbiting each other.\n \n EXT. LAGRANGE PO", "this is like a\n master key.\n (MORE)\n 100.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n If we could build more of these, we\n could turn down the earth's\n gravitational field enough to save\n millions of people. We wouldn't\n have to pick a handful of people to\n survive. With this we can save\n everyone.\n \n BRAND\n And go where?\n \n ROTH\n Wherever we want.", "forming a crude two-stage rocket\n designed more for a robot than a man.\n \n When it's complete Roth wedges himself inside, clutching the\n black box -- he barely fits.\n \n ROTH\n I can reach one of the moons in low\n orbit and turn up its gravity. As\n it passes overhead it should be able\n to slingshot the lander away from\n the planet's surface.\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Along with everything else.\n ", "\n Roth carries the gravitational prototype.\n \n EXT. ENTRANCE, CHINESE FORTIFIED COLONY -- DAY\n \n They make their way through the ruined entrance.\n \n CASE\n We need to hurry. We only have a\n few hours to reach the ice before\n nightfall.\n \n Cooper stops. He puts a hand on Brand's shoulder. He points\n to the tree line. Something is moving.\n \n COOPER\n Don't make any sudden", "space. Gravity pulls them back\n together. They form new stars.\n Then planets. Then us. We die. It\n starts all over again.\n \n Cooper shakes his head.\n \n COOPER\n What about the plan? The grand\n scheme.\n 125.\n \n BRAND\n I thought you didn't believe in one.\n \n COOPER\n I didn't. But you were bringing me\n round.\n \n He laughs, his", "IGHT\n \n Cooper, dripping wet, holding the telemetry board, struggles\n to keep pace with Brand through stacks of equipment and years\n of research and experimentation.\n \n BRAND\n You can set that down over there.\n \n Cooper sets the board down. His eye is drawn to a bizarre\n experiment -- an ant colony built into a massive spinning\n centrifuge. Brand notices.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n We didn't know what kind of gravity\n ", "AMS them against the walls of\n the ship.\n \n Finally, the thrusters fire again -- a tiny push, but just\n enough to launch the ship clear of the black hole, like a\n rock out of a slingshot.\n \n The ship races toward the massive hole in the sky below them:\n \n GARGANTUA\n \n EXT. SPACE AROUND GARGANTUA\n \n The ship picks up more and more speed as it soars closer to\n the massive black hole's", "\n I still think we're making a lot of\n assumptions. About the wormhole.\n About the planet.\n (points to map)\n The critical orbit here is incredibly\n dangerous. It's like walking on the\n rim of the volcano.\n (BEAT)\n Too fast and we get thrown off at\n close to the speed of light. Too\n slow and we get pulled into the hole\n and crushed.\n \n BRAND\n As long as we're careful, we'll make\n", "us only a few days. But far\n more time will be passing back home.\n \n The ship's trajectory cuts through the deep gravity well of\n the smaller black hole to reach the ice planet.\n \n COOPER\n How much time?\n \n ROTH\n Based on the information from the\n probe -- as much as five years.\n \n Doyle looks at the tiny ship's trajectory, threaded between\n two black holes. He looks worried.\n \n DOYLE", "smaller black hole that\n is orbiting Gargantua.\n \n CASE\n We're headed for this smaller black\n hole. Roth calls it Pantagruel. We\n think the ice planet is here-\n \n Case draws a finger through the air, leaving a red trail.\n He traces the trajectory their ship will take.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n We exit the wormhole here. And we\n slingshot around Pantagruel to reach\n the ice planet.", "That was the\n treasure the Chinese found. Enough\n time to let us save ourselves.\n \n Brand looks around. The facility is massive. She sets the\n specimen case down on a table. Even the tiny creature seems\n in awe of the place.\n \n INT. LABORATORY, SPACE STATION\n \n Tars shows them a prototype for the gravity machine. It is\n tiny -- increasing G around two spheres that attract each\n other with a tiny force.\n \n TARS\n", " \n He holds onto her as they fall up and out of the last of the\n planet's thin atmosphere and the blackness embraces them.\n \n BRAND\n Between you and utter solitude,\n Cooper, frankly, I'm not sure.\n \n They reach the apex of their climb and the gravity of the\n planet begins to win out. For a moment they float.\n \n COOPER\n Guess you were right -- too much\n gravity, or not enough.\n \n", "rest of our solar system around the black hole.\n \n ANSEN\n It didn't. Because if it had we'd\n all be dead by now.\n \n On-screen, Jupiter, then the Earth and the inner planets are\n consumed by the black hole. Only the sun survives, pulled\n into orbit around its new master.\n \n ANSEN (CONT'D)\n Which leaves only one explanation:\n The signal traveled through a\n (MORE)\n 4. \n " ], [ ". KITCHEN, COOPER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Tom heads off for school with Donald. Murph, still suspended,\n looks up at Cooper, smiling.\n \n MURPH\n What are we doing today?\n \n COOPER\n You're staying here and cleaning the\n house.\n \n Murph looks crestfallen. He looks out towards the yard.\n Cooper follows his stare.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I told you,", "\n didn't leave anyone behind.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand, his anger softened by sadness.\n \n COOPER\n Yes she did.\n \n Brand looks at him, grateful for this small kindness.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n That's why you were upset -- your\n father.\n \n She looks down, filled with sadness.\n \n BRAND\n He's gone. But there are other people\n who still need our help.", "There's going to be important work\n to do here, too.\n \n Tears are streaming down the boy's face. Cooper takes his\n watch off. Looks at it.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I need you to hold onto this. Will\n you do that for me?\n \n Cooper hands Murph the watch. The boy nods, saddened.\n \n MURPH\n You're not coming back, are you?\n \n COOPER\n ", "ing on the edge of death.\n \n The old man looks at him, eyes widening in excitement. He\n strains, trying to reach the bedside table. He's trying to\n reach the drawer. Cooper helps him open it.\n \n Inside is a simple, familiar wristwatch. The old man\n carefully takes out the watch. He gives the watch a few\n winds and, hands shaking, offers it to Cooper.\n \n Cooper, eyes filling with tears, closes his hand over the\n old man's hand, envelop", " \n Cooper moves closer to it, looking into its blackened eyes.\n He steps back, clearly a little spooked.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I think we need to go, Murph.\n \n MURPH\n But can't we take it back? You could\n fix it up, get him to do chores.\n \n COOPER\n No. I don't know what this place\n is, but we're leaving.\n \n Murph, ignoring", "stands by the door.\n He gives his son, Tom, a hug. Murph is nowhere to be seen.\n \n Cooper looks to the back of the house.\n \n INT. MURPH'S ROOM, FARMHOUSE -- DAY\n \n Murph is sitting at his desk, crossing out numbers on a sheet\n covered with math. Cooper steps inside.\n \n He notices a packed suitcase sitting by the door. The boy\n looks up, hopeful.\n \n MURPH\n ", "encrusted kid with a black eye, smiles at the\n ballplayer.\n \n MURPH\n My dad can fix anything.\n (WRY SMILE)\n Except maybe your fastball.\n \n The ballplayer frowns: smartass kid.\n \n After a moment under the hood, Cooper signals to the driver,\n who tries the engine. It turns over once, then STARTS.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n Sure appreciate the help.\n \n COOPER", "Cooper's old Piper Cub. He\n checks over the engine, lights, prop. Turns the key. Fires\n her up. The diesel wakes with a GRUNT.\n \n EXT. AIRSTRIP -- DAY\n \n Murph wheels the old plane out onto the field by hand.\n \n EXT. SKIES OVER THE SOUTHWEST -- DAY\n \n The ancient plane skirts the San Gabriels.\n \n EXT. FIELD, SANTA CRU", "I've been doing the math, dad. I\n weigh about 85 pounds. Now that's\n an extra ton of fuel. But if-\n \n COOPER\n You have to stay here, pal.\n \n MURPH\n (DISTRAUGHT)\n I heard you talking to grandpa. I'm\n like you. I don't fit here, either.\n You know that.\n \n Cooper puts an arm around the boy.\n \n COOPER\n ", "Besides, I'll be here to look after\n them, same as I've always been.\n \n COOPER\n I have a responsibility to them--\n \n DONALD\n That's right. You do.\n 41.\n \n Cooper looks back out the window, thinking. The night sky\n is filled with stars.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n INT. FARMHOUSE -- DAY\n \n Cooper, duffel slung over his shoulder,", "looks a\n little off. He walks over.\n \n He pokes at the undergrowth with his rifle. The rifle CLANKS\n against something metal. Cooper reaches -- it's a camouflage\n scrim. He gently pulls it aside, revealing a chemical\n transport truck.\n \n Cooper steps back, alarmed. He brings up his rifle.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n He looks around. Murph is nowhere to be seen. Cooper curses\n and", "OPER\n I'm sorry. I have to find out what\n happened to my sons. I promised\n them.\n \n Brand sees the resolve in his eyes. Knows there's no way to\n change his mind.\n \n BRAND\n You're a man who keeps his promises.\n Make me one-\n \n She takes his hand.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n After you're done... come find me.\n \n COOPER\n I", "I will come back. I promise.\n 42.\n \n Murph shakes his head, but the sadness remains. He knows\n this is goodbye, even if his father doesn't.\n \n Heart breaking, Cooper hugs his son and turns to the door.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. FIELD, SANTA CRUZ ISLAND -- DAY\n \n The Piper Cub touches down. Donald is at the controls.\n Cooper climbs down, pulls out his", "and experience. I'm only concerned\n with whether someone would be useful.\n (BEAT)\n I think you'd be useful, Mr. Cooper.\n \n Cooper is stunned. This is the offer he's waited his whole\n life for. And it's come too late.\n \n COOPER\n No. I'm sorry.\n \n Cooper is deeply conflicted. But he can't leave his boys\n behind.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I can", " \n Cooper looks down at the dirt. Sighs.\n \n COOPER\n Murph's law.\n \n MURPH\n (CONFUSED)\n What's that?\n \n Tom snorts with laughter. Turns to his dad.\n \n TOM\n The kid doesn't even know what he\n was named after...\n \n Cooper shoots Tom a look -- enough.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n Murph'", "Ran out of parts for it.\n You know anything about diesels?\n \n COOPER\n A little.\n \n Cooper steps to the engine compartment.\n \n The ballplayer notices Cooper's two boys, TOM, 15, and MURPH,\n 10, watching them. He wanders over.\n 7.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n You think your dad's going to be\n able to help us out?\n \n Murph, a filth-", " \n Murph and Cooper climb down from the plane. Cooper slings a\n rifle over his shoulder.\n \n A few dozen yards from the plane they reach the tree line.\n Murph stops, mesmerized by a patch of weeds studded with\n bright red -- strawberries.\n \n MURPH\n Dad, what are these things?\n \n COOPER\n I don't know. Don't touch them.\n 27.\n \n Cooper spots something in the foliage ahead that", "the house, blasting Cooper and pelting what's left of the\n structure with fist-sized hail.\n \n Cooper takes shelter against the remaining wall. He's going\n to have to sit this one out -- the hail and winds are the\n brutal descendants of the weather he knew. They'll finish\n him off if he steps back outside.\n \n As he watches, the pool of water on the kitchen floor freezes\n over in seconds.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED FARMHOUSE -- DAWN\n", "s law means what can go wrong\n will go wrong.\n \n Murph, looking hurt, walks off. Cooper turns to his son.\n \n COOPER\n Find something to patch it with.\n \n TOM\n How am I supposed to do that?\n 11.\n \n COOPER\n Figure it out. I'm not always going\n to be here to help you.\n \n Cooper leaves Tom to catch up with his younger son, who is\n looking out over the river.", "-- DAY\n \n Murph lets himself inside. Lights a flare.\n \n The place has been gutted. Thieves and scavengers have taken\n almost everything.\n \n Murph finds one of the robots, or what's left of it -- it's\n been stripped, leaving only the bare composite skeleton.\n The empty eye sockets stare back at Murph.\n \n Murph looks around the place. There is nothing left to\n salvage. He turns to leave. Hears a" ], [ "under the machine, working.\n \n The man hauls himself out from under the huge machine. Dusts\n himself off.\n \n It's Murph, 30s. He looks at the FARMER who is waiting for\n the verdict. Murph shakes his head.\n \n MURPH\n It's done. Auto-pilot's packed up\n for the last time.\n \n FARMER\n You can't make it work a little\n longer?\n", " \n MURPH\n Can't do anything for you. There\n aren't any more parts for these.\n Not anywhere.\n \n FARMER\n You don't understand. We're getting\n less than a hundred pounds per acre.\n We need to plant more, not less.\n \n Murph looks around him at the pathetic crop of corn that\n stretches around them. The plants are feeble, barely able\n to support themselves.\n 140.\n \n ", " \n Corn blows in an artificial breeze. A red tractor makes its\n way through the field, which curves gently up in the distance.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR (V.O.)\n The machines do most of the work, of\n course, but we were able to get you\n a few acres. You're going to be a\n farmer again.\n \n After a moment, the tractor stops. Cooper climbs down from\n the seat. Looks at the front steering linkage, which is\n jammed", ".\n \n Cooper begins to argue, then stops. He knows enough history\n to know she's right. He looks at the withering crops.\n \n COOPER\n (QUIET)\n That's why you're looking for a planet\n with oxygen. Water.\n \n BRAND\n A new home for humanity. We'll set\n up a colony, then return to bring\n more people across.\n \n COOPER\n But you'd still only be able to save", "forming a crude two-stage rocket\n designed more for a robot than a man.\n \n When it's complete Roth wedges himself inside, clutching the\n black box -- he barely fits.\n \n ROTH\n I can reach one of the moons in low\n orbit and turn up its gravity. As\n it passes overhead it should be able\n to slingshot the lander away from\n the planet's surface.\n (LOOKS AROUND)\n Along with everything else.\n ", "ing\n the ice planet.\n \n The rocket fires to maneuver closer and closer to the moon's\n surface -- the tiny moon doesn't provide enough gravity to\n attract it.\n \n When the rocket is close enough, Roth detonates the explosive\n bolts holding him inside and leaps for the moon's surface.\n \n He scrambles to grab hold of the craggy surface. Behind\n him, the rocket smashes apart against the surface.\n \n Roth finally gets a good", "in their cumbersome suits.\n \n Lit by the nebula, the surroundings are a little brighter\n than a full moon on Earth.\n \n Not that there's much to look at. They are standing on a\n sea of ice, which spreads for miles. In the distance, small\n rock formations break through the ice.\n \n Brand takes a surface reading of the ice.\n \n BRAND\n (RADIO)\n The probe was right. Looks like\n significant amounts of oxygen", ".\n \n EXT. FARMHOUSE, COOPER STATION -- TWILIGHT\n \n Cooper sits on his porch, joined by the same robot as before.\n They watch as the space station rotates lazily out of\n alignment with the local star, casting the inside of the\n cylinder into shade, then darkness.\n \n The shadow races past them. Another day. Another night.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, COOPER STATION\n \n A maintenance worker finishes looking over one of the", "eyed, she thinks about it. Then nods.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. EARTH, 2320 -- DAY\n \n This is North America. But it doesn't look much like it.\n \n Mother Nature has just about wiped the slate clean. Most of\n the vegetation is gone, and unchecked winds sweep across the\n barren plains. Patches of ice lie think on the ground, as\n if a heavy snow has come and gone.\n \n ", ")\n The world needs farmers, Mr. Cooper.\n And I'm sure your son Tom is going\n to make a fine one.\n (SMILES BENIGNLY)\n We're a caretaker generation. But\n things are getting better. Maybe\n your grandchildren will be able to\n attend college.\n \n Cooper looks down, swallowing his anger.\n \n COOPER\n Are we done?\n \n PRINCIPAL\n One more thing. Ms. Kelly here says", "to. But they failed.\n Like us they were fixated on this\n place.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n They didn't realize they had already\n found something that would save us\n all.\n (holds up the box)\n This. This is the prize.\n \n He holds up the box.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n Don't you see? Earth's gravity is\n like a prison. But", " \n INT. GREENHOUSE, UNDERGROUND FACILITY -- NIGHT\n \n They are standing in a sealed corridor in the middle of a\n massive underground greenhouse. Through the glass, Cooper\n can see an acre or so of corn plants.\n \n Cooper looks at the plants. They're all badly wilting.\n \n COOPER\n The blight.\n \n BRAND\n In the last century strands were\n limited to one or two species. But\n ", "the raised gravity.\n \n COOPER\n Looks like hard work.\n \n BRAND\n It's a paradox. Life couldn't form\n without gravity. No stars. No\n planets. The component pieces would\n just drift apart. But too much of\n it and you're trapped.\n \n Brand's guard relaxes a tiny bit as she talks about her work.\n The moment passes quickly, and she continues on into the\n stack of equipment.\n \n INT. MISSION CON", "to the Principal for help. None is forthcoming.\n \n MS. KELLY\n Yes, Mr. Cooper. The kind of\n wastefulness and excess that the\n 20th century represented. Your\n children would be better off learning\n about this planet, rather than reading\n fantasies about leaving it.\n \n Cooper is silent for a long moment.\n \n COOPER\n One of those useless machines they\n used to make was called an MRI. If\n we had any of them left the doctors\n", "educated\n man, Mr. Cooper. A scientist?\n \n COOPER\n Engineer.\n \n PRINCIPAL\n Frankly, the world doesn't need any\n more engineers. We didn't run out\n of trains or television sets or\n satellites.\n (BEAT)\n We ran out of food.\n 17.\n \n Cooper leans back. He's not going to win this one.\n \n PRINCIPAL (CONT'D", "A\n massive version of the box we found\n on the ice planet, allowing the entire\n human population to escape.\n \n At a given moment, the gravity of the Earth is dropped to\n nothing and the massive ships, filled with the entire\n 132.\n \n population of the Earth, lift gently off of the planet in\n search of greener pastures.\n \n Cooper turns away from the machine, bitter.\n \n COOPER\n So why didn't they return? Why didn't\n they", ", trying\n to comprehend. But it quickly loses interest and goes back\n to breaking itself into pieces and reforming into different\n shapes, trying to escape. Brand sets it back down.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n INT. BARRACKS, CHINESE COLONY -- DAY\n \n Morning. Cooper and the others prepare to head out. They\n are laden down with gear -- space suits for the return trip\n to the lander once they reach the surface.\n 101.\n ", "SUPER TITLE: \"TWO HUNDRED YEARS LATER\"\n \n One of the Chinese spaceships descends through the thick\n clouds above and settles gently onto the plain.\n \n The hatch opens and Cooper steps out. He takes a cautious\n look around. He is holding the fractal life in its small\n container.\n \n The clouds are threatening, but the weather looks calm enough\n right here.\n 144.\n \n Cooper starts to walk.\n \n", "while Cooper works at it with a blowtorch.\n \n -- Tars pulls the probe out of the back of a plane.\n \n -- Brand's father, older, studies the probe. Gives up.\n \n -- Much later. People are moving around in the darkened\n base, scavenging equipment.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. FIELD -- DAY\n \n A combine harvester is dead in a field, service hatch opened.\n A MAN is lying", "to expect. We experimented with\n collective organisms in high g\n environments.\n \n COOPER\n We're taking ants with us?\n \n BRAND\n Humans are also collective organisms.\n 45.\n \n COOPER\n I thought humans were more solitary.\n \n BRAND\n (WRY)\n Why am I not surprised?\n \n Cooper looks at the tiny colonies of ants struggling to go\n about their business in" ], [ "the house, blasting Cooper and pelting what's left of the\n structure with fist-sized hail.\n \n Cooper takes shelter against the remaining wall. He's going\n to have to sit this one out -- the hail and winds are the\n brutal descendants of the weather he knew. They'll finish\n him off if he steps back outside.\n \n As he watches, the pool of water on the kitchen floor freezes\n over in seconds.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED FARMHOUSE -- DAWN\n", "and experience. I'm only concerned\n with whether someone would be useful.\n (BEAT)\n I think you'd be useful, Mr. Cooper.\n \n Cooper is stunned. This is the offer he's waited his whole\n life for. And it's come too late.\n \n COOPER\n No. I'm sorry.\n \n Cooper is deeply conflicted. But he can't leave his boys\n behind.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I can", "led over an ocean of\n green -- Jersey milking cows grazing in a field of wild grass.\n \n DOCTOR (CONT'D)\n I've got someone who wants to meet\n you.\n \n Cooper looks at her.\n \n INT. INTENSIVE CARE ROOM, HOSPICE, COOPER STATION -- DAY\n \n Cooper steps inside. The room is dark, still, the only noise\n is the labored RATTLE of an old man struggling to breathe.\n \n", "ing both the watch and the man's hand.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. CORNFIELD, COOPER STATION -- MORNING\n \n Cooper is sitting in a well-appointed office. A middle-aged\n BUREAUCRAT smiles at him from the far side of a huge desk.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR\n You're a hero, Mr. Cooper. Let's\n just start off by saying that. It's\n an incredible and... unexpected honor", "front of the bus.\n \n A battered PICKUP pulls up, and a MAN, 30s, gets out, leaving\n his two SONS in the car. This is COOPER. He joins the\n ballplayers staring at the lifeless diesel engine.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n Seized up on us.\n \n COOPER\n Long way to come by bus. I thought\n you guys would have a plane.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n We did.", "bed, fully clothed, exhausted. He\n stares up at the ceiling. This is his life.\n \n INT. BEDROOM, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n The air is filled with a PIERCING NOISE.\n \n Cooper BOLTS upright. Stumbles out the door.\n \n INT. HALLWAY, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper's boys are in the hallway, exhausted. Cooper, holding\n a baseball bat, makes", "Ran out of parts for it.\n You know anything about diesels?\n \n COOPER\n A little.\n \n Cooper steps to the engine compartment.\n \n The ballplayer notices Cooper's two boys, TOM, 15, and MURPH,\n 10, watching them. He wanders over.\n 7.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n You think your dad's going to be\n able to help us out?\n \n Murph, a filth-", "ing on the edge of death.\n \n The old man looks at him, eyes widening in excitement. He\n strains, trying to reach the bedside table. He's trying to\n reach the drawer. Cooper helps him open it.\n \n Inside is a simple, familiar wristwatch. The old man\n carefully takes out the watch. He gives the watch a few\n winds and, hands shaking, offers it to Cooper.\n \n Cooper, eyes filling with tears, closes his hand over the\n old man's hand, envelop", "educated\n man, Mr. Cooper. A scientist?\n \n COOPER\n Engineer.\n \n PRINCIPAL\n Frankly, the world doesn't need any\n more engineers. We didn't run out\n of trains or television sets or\n satellites.\n (BEAT)\n We ran out of food.\n 17.\n \n Cooper leans back. He's not going to win this one.\n \n PRINCIPAL (CONT'D", " Cooper steps closer to the bed. The man's skin is paper-\n thin. He is ancient.\n \n DOCTOR\n He was moved here after they found\n you. He's a little old for a\n transfer, but they made an exception.\n \n Cooper hovers at the back of the room, unsure. He turns to\n the doctor, questioning. Then he notices the pictures on\n the old man's desk:\n \n There are dozens of them. Children, grandchildren. Then\n the older", " \n Cooper is riding in a small rubber zodiac struggling to pull\n on a wetsuit. Brand is GUNNING the engine, guiding the tiny\n craft to a point in the middle of the bay.\n \n COOPER\n I was wondering where you've been\n getting your supplies.\n \n BRAND\n We knew we'd need decades of parts\n and materials. The government was\n getting rid of some things. So we\n arranged to take some off their hands.\n \n She cuts", ")\n The world needs farmers, Mr. Cooper.\n And I'm sure your son Tom is going\n to make a fine one.\n (SMILES BENIGNLY)\n We're a caretaker generation. But\n things are getting better. Maybe\n your grandchildren will be able to\n attend college.\n \n Cooper looks down, swallowing his anger.\n \n COOPER\n Are we done?\n \n PRINCIPAL\n One more thing. Ms. Kelly here says", "T. CALIFORNIA COAST -- DAY\n \n The tiny plane follows the mountains south.\n \n EXT. SKIES OVER LOS ANGELES -- DAY\n \n Cooper flies in low. Los Angeles looks much the same way it\n did in the early 20th century -- small settlements in Santa\n Monica and Downtown. Wildfires and earthquakes have shaken\n and burned what was left of the homes in between.\n 26.\n \n EXT. PACIF", "YELLING as they play.\n He moves toward the window. Reaches for the curtains. Before\n he can, the door opens behind him.\n \n A WOMAN in a white coat steps in, smiling warmly.\n \n DOCTOR\n Good morning. Don't go outside just\n yet, Mr. Cooper.\n (MORE)\n 146.\n \n DOCTOR (CONT'D)\n (offers him a pill)\n This will help with the\n disorientation", ". KITCHEN, COOPER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Tom heads off for school with Donald. Murph, still suspended,\n looks up at Cooper, smiling.\n \n MURPH\n What are we doing today?\n \n COOPER\n You're staying here and cleaning the\n house.\n \n Murph looks crestfallen. He looks out towards the yard.\n Cooper follows his stare.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I told you,", " \n Corn blows in an artificial breeze. A red tractor makes its\n way through the field, which curves gently up in the distance.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR (V.O.)\n The machines do most of the work, of\n course, but we were able to get you\n a few acres. You're going to be a\n farmer again.\n \n After a moment, the tractor stops. Cooper climbs down from\n the seat. Looks at the front steering linkage, which is\n jammed", "Besides, I'll be here to look after\n them, same as I've always been.\n \n COOPER\n I have a responsibility to them--\n \n DONALD\n That's right. You do.\n 41.\n \n Cooper looks back out the window, thinking. The night sky\n is filled with stars.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n INT. FARMHOUSE -- DAY\n \n Cooper, duffel slung over his shoulder,", "out.\n \n EXT. BASEBALL DIAMOND, COOPER STATION\n \n Cooper sits in the stands, listening to the familiar crack\n of the bat as an intramural team from the university\n practices.\n \n Cooper watches. He looks bored.\n \n The kid up to bat cracks a pop fly. For a second, the catcher\n shuffles back and forth, trying to get himself into position.\n But the ball never returns. The catcher YELLS out a warning.\n ", "(CONT'D)\n That's him.\n 148.\n \n She points to the old man lying in the bed.\n \n DOCTOR (CONT'D)\n His name is Anthony Welling. Anthony\n Cooper Welling.\n (SMILES)\n He's your great great grandson.\n He's been waiting a long time for\n you.\n \n Cooper's eyes well with tears. He steps over to the bed and\n looks down at the ancient man, teeter", "Cooper. We're\n telling you this because I want you\n to join us.\n \n Cooper looks at him. Is he serious?\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n The probe has taken a great deal\n longer to return to us than we hoped.\n (MORE)\n 37.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n Dr. Brand's Father and several other\n members of our crew have gotten...\n older.\n \n Brand's Father looks down," ], [ "the house, blasting Cooper and pelting what's left of the\n structure with fist-sized hail.\n \n Cooper takes shelter against the remaining wall. He's going\n to have to sit this one out -- the hail and winds are the\n brutal descendants of the weather he knew. They'll finish\n him off if he steps back outside.\n \n As he watches, the pool of water on the kitchen floor freezes\n over in seconds.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED FARMHOUSE -- DAWN\n", "now, Cooper.\n They need to spread themselves as\n thin as they can to absorb the light.\n 91.\n \n Cooper leads the way, pushing through the trees.\n \n Suddenly he stops again. Brand, annoyed, pushes through the\n foliage to join him.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Cooper, honestly, you're a bit of a-\n \n She stops. Cooper is standing at a sheer cliff.\n \n Spread out on the plain below", " \n COOPER\n (GENTLE)\n Maybe... maybe Roth's right... maybe\n we just don't understand it yet.\n \n She looks down. She knows he doesn't believe what he's\n saying. He's been right all along -- they're alone.\n \n For a tiny moment, all hope is lost.\n \n Suddenly, with a distant RUMBLE, the building begins SHAKING.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Case,", "down. Half of 'em\n took off last night, looking for\n something.\n (points to dunes)\n Looks like they found it, too. I\n thought you were the man to see it.\n \n Riggs starts walking up the dune. Cooper follows.\n \n Below, on the beach, a dozen more combines and other farming\n vehicles are lined up at the tideline, warm gulf water lapping\n at their metal flanks. They are circling a deep crater.\n 20.\n ", "they're the\n same organism at a different stage\n of the life cycle.\n (shows him the sample)\n It's fractal. No individual cells --\n the structure repeats all the way\n down.\n \n Cooper looks at the sample, then continues scanning the jungle\n around them, nervous.\n \n COOPER\n Any sign of big life-forms?\n \n BRAND\n The soil's been disturbed. So\n something's been moving. But I\n", "Doyle GASPS as the sphere nearest him moves through his body,\n coming to rest in the middle and bending his entire torso\n like a fun house mirror.\n \n Suddenly, the sphere wrapped around Cooper's hand begins\n moving, tugging him gently through the cabin.\n \n In the next moment, all three of them are being propelled\n through the cabin.\n \n It's a magical moment -- a communion, a dance between\n creatures on either side of a massive, invisible wall.\n \n D", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", " \n Cooper shivers, pressed against the wall. The storm is still\n raging outside. He is freezing to death. He has to move\n now or he will die. He pulls the hood tight around his face\n and stumbles outside.\n \n EXT. SNOWBOUND FIELD -- DAY\n \n Cooper makes his way through the blinding snow. He tries to\n find his way, but the ship has been consumed by the blizzard.\n \n He stumbles to the ground, dropping the glass", "case with the\n fractal wildlife in it. The case shatters.\n \n Cooper tries to stand back up, but his strength is dwindling.\n 145.\n \n As he watches, the fractal wildlife creeps tentatively out\n of its broken habitat. It forms together against the cold.\n \n After a moment, it burrows into the ice. As it does, the\n ice glows faintly. It seems to be right at home.\n \n Cooper laughs, glimpsing the outline of", " scraping at the ice and snow.\n \n Case hits something solid. But it's not a probe. He digs\n around a little more, then reaches up and hacks away at the\n hillside, revealing the outline of something metal:\n \n A door. They're not standing at the base of a hill -- it's\n a shelter. The crew stands back, unsure what to make of it.\n \n A few feet away, Cooper cuts enough of the mound away to\n reveal something flexible -- fabric caked with", "?\n \n COOPER\n We're going to find out soon enough.\n \n Brand is looking off into the distance.\n \n BRAND\n Someone's coming.\n \n Cooper looks up. A robotlike figure is limping through the\n snowstorm towards them. Cooper raises the rifle.\n \n Finally he makes out the insignia -- it's Case.\n \n Cooper and Doyle run out towards him. They reach Case as he\n collapses in the snow. He", " \n Cooper moves closer to it, looking into its blackened eyes.\n He steps back, clearly a little spooked.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I think we need to go, Murph.\n \n MURPH\n But can't we take it back? You could\n fix it up, get him to do chores.\n \n COOPER\n No. I don't know what this place\n is, but we're leaving.\n \n Murph, ignoring", "running from the rumbling, smashing melee behind\n them. But as they run, the entire jungle around them begins\n to break apart and move.\n \n After a moment, they're surrounded. The jungle is completely\n disassembling itself into a million different pieces, each\n one a different size and shape than the others.\n \n COOPER\n We have to reach the shelter.\n \n They head off, crashing through the melee.\n \n EXT. SHORE, ICE PLAN", "He stops, and laughs, remembering what Case told him about\n what happens when humans die.\n \n He struggles to his feet and stumbles a few more feet,\n eventually coming to rest just steps from the ship.\n \n Cooper takes a final step. Finally, he collapses under his\n ship, as the wind continues to HOWL around him.\n \n As the snow clears for a moment, Cooper is alone on a vast\n arctic tundra. He will die alone.\n \n BLACK\n ", "\n been up there ever since.\n \n TOM\n What was it doing flying so low?\n \n Cooper reads the information pouring into his laptop.\n 15.\n \n COOPER\n It was looking for something.\n Intercepted some kind of signal.\n (SHRUGS)\n It's been at eighty thousand feet.\n Sun probably cooked its brain.\n \n Cooper runs his hand along the flank till he finds an access\n patch. He pulls out a crow", "\n \n Murph is staring off into the distance. He's heard something.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n Then Cooper hears it, too. A LOW RUMBLING SOUND. Cooper\n looks out over the river. Then he turns back and tackles\n his son to the ground.\n \n Suddenly, a MASSIVE AIRPLANE SOARS overhead, so close they\n can almost touch it. It bounces the truck on its suspension,\n ", "ing on the edge of death.\n \n The old man looks at him, eyes widening in excitement. He\n strains, trying to reach the bedside table. He's trying to\n reach the drawer. Cooper helps him open it.\n \n Inside is a simple, familiar wristwatch. The old man\n carefully takes out the watch. He gives the watch a few\n winds and, hands shaking, offers it to Cooper.\n \n Cooper, eyes filling with tears, closes his hand over the\n old man's hand, envelop", "kids\n used to be. Rainwater covers the ancient formica.\n \n It has taken him years to finally reach this place. He has\n had plenty of time to come to grips with what he might find.\n But nothing has prepared him for this:\n \n He is completely alone. Nothing is left.\n \n INT. COLLAPSED FARMHOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper is still sitting there when the ice storm hits.\n \n Unchecked by trees or vegetation, the wind rockets through\n ", "a little further, until he finds several massive\n tanks. The tanks are filling with a bubbling liquid -- some\n kind of industrial process is taking place beneath him.\n \n Cooper finally catches up with Murph at the edge of a\n clearing.\n \n COOPER\n Careful. There's some kind of\n underground facility here. We\n might...\n \n Cooper notices his son is frozen, staring at something:\n \n Standing bolt upright in the middle of the clearing, wearing\n an old straw hat", "Cooper checks his rad meter. A tiny reading -- non-lethal.\n He takes off his watch and hands it to Riggs. Then he slides\n down into the hole.\n \n The probe CHIRPS as Cooper slides down on top of it. He\n rubs a hand across its smooth composite bulk.\n \n RIGGS\n (FROM ABOVE)\n You think it's an alien?\n \n Cooper wipes sand off of the object, revealing the faint,\n familiar outline etched into the side of" ], [ "INT, SPACE\n \n Behind the ship, the sun is a distant light, not much bigger\n than the other stars.\n \n CASE (O.S.)\n We've reached the wormhole.\n \n The ship slows as it nears a tiny, crystal mouth, just four\n meters or so in diameter.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Case looks at the wormhole on the screen. It glows with the\n light of stars billions of light", "crystal-like mouth. Finally, it envelops the mouth,\n bringing it into the open chamber.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n As the crew watch, the wormhole mouth is positioned in the\n center of the inner compartment.\n \n Case presses a sequence key on the control panel and the\n ship's hull closes again, trapping the wormhole inside it.\n \n With a GRUMBLE, the ship begins contracting, squeezing itself\n down around the worm", "\n Above them, the blackness of the sky is punctuated with\n hundreds of crystal shapes, faintly leaking starlight:\n \n Wormholes. Brand looks up at them, entranced.\n \n BRAND\n Where do they lead?\n \n Tars looks at an illuminated schematic on one wall, mapping\n some of the wormholes.\n \n TARS\n There are millions of them, connecting\n virtually every planetary system in\n the universe. There are thousands", " EXT. SPACE AROUND GARGANTUA -- MORNING\n \n The ship is tumbling through space, racing toward the second\n wormhole. It is massive, much larger than the first wormhole,\n and it's glowing with a light as bright as a star.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew brace themselves against the hull of the ship.\n \n Suddenly the ship slams onto the wormhole mouth and is pulled\n violently into the worm", "\n chamber.\n 60.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The SHUDDERING continues. The crew watch nervously as the\n control chamber below them suddenly opens itself to the cold\n blackness of space.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The ship silently rolls itself into position, pointing the\n opening in its hull toward the wormhole mouth.\n \n Slowly, the Endurance pushes itself forward, closer and closer\n to the", "the crew are silent, taking it in.\n \n ROTH\n Look at that.\n \n Roth is looking through the translucent panel on the hull.\n \n They are on the warped side of the universe.\n 64.\n \n EXT. WORMHOLE MOUTH, WARPED SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE\n \n The vista is dazzling -- an ocean of massive stars and black\n holes, some adorned with jets and brilliant gas disks.\n ", " \n ANSEN (CONT'D)\n wormhole. A gateway to a distant\n corner of the universe. The black\n hole is on the far side.\n \n On-screen, the black hole system is removed to a distant\n corner, connected to ours by a tunnel through space-time. A\n gravity wave from the collision travels through the tunnel.\n \n NSA AGENT\n I've read your book, Doctor. You\n said that wormholes are impossible.\n \n ANSEN", "\n united -- they are, in all likelihood, the sole survivors of\n their planet.\n \n Doyle points to the instruments.\n \n DOYLE\n The wormhole. Look -- it's being\n pulled into the black hole as well.\n \n They watch on the holographic model as the wormhole's orbit\n converges on the event horizon of the black hole.\n \n BRAND\n It's orbit mirrored the ice planet's.\n \n CO", "here...\n \n Cooper wakes, careful not to disturb Brand. He plucks his\n shirt from the floating laundry pile and pulls it on.\n 126.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper hauls himself up into the upper cabin. Doyle is\n standing in the middle of the chamber.\n \n DOYLE\n They just appeared.\n \n A sphere of distortion, like the one they encountered in the\n first wormhole, is directly in", "engines disengage themselves from the ship.\n \n EXT. ENDURANCE, SPACE\n \n The nuclear engines drift a safe distance back from the ship\n and then snap tight on their tether.\n \n INT. OUTER HULL, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew move into the tight, claustrophobic outer layer of\n the ship. They will have very little room as the ship passes\n through the wormhole.\n \n Tars detaches his legs in order to take up less space during", " encounter.\n \n An ALARM sounds. Suddenly, the inner chamber begins to\n distort from a spherical shape to bispherical: two spheres\n joined. The ship GROANS as if it's being pulled apart.\n \n ROTH\n The wormhole is splitting into two\n paths. Radiation is pouring from\n one path to the other.\n 63.\n \n Case stares at the controls. Decides.\n \n CASE\n Release the second mouth.\n", "\n Their mission is complete. One by one, they shut down.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n The crew watch through a translucent section of the ship's\n hull as the Earth gets steadily smaller.\n \n Then they settle in for the long journey to the wormhole.\n 53.\n \n INT. CREW QUARTERS, ENDURANCE\n \n Tars is hunched over a small communications relay, one hand\n is holding a", " \n DOYLE\n None of our testing involved opening\n the ship inside the wormhole. We\n have no idea what might happen.\n \n CASE\n We're going to find out.\n \n Doyle reaches over to an auxiliary panel and punches in a\n sequence.\n \n After a moment, the hull cracks open, creating a channel\n through which the radiating mouth can escape.\n \n The opening in the ship allows the pressure to begin to\n concentrate on one fract", "hole at incredible\n speed -- one revolution every four seconds. The crew are\n suddenly SLAMMED against the hull in opposite directions --\n some towards the black hole, some towards the opposite side.\n \n Roth looks at his model, which shows the projected path of\n the ship. It looks perilously close to the event horizon.\n \n ROTH\n It's the tidal gravity caused by the\n black hole. It means we're right on\n the critical orbit.\n \n The comms screen lights up,", "to the probe. Traces the\n familiar stars and stripes carved into its side.\n \n Cooper stares at the probe, putting it all together.\n \n COOPER\n It's going to work.\n \n DOYLE\n Of course it's going to work.\n \n COOPER\n That's not what I mean. This is the\n probe I found in Galveston.\n \n Below them, the wormhole breaks as it reaches another wormhole\n mouth that the Chinese", "smaller black hole that\n is orbiting Gargantua.\n \n CASE\n We're headed for this smaller black\n hole. Roth calls it Pantagruel. We\n think the ice planet is here-\n \n Case draws a finger through the air, leaving a red trail.\n He traces the trajectory their ship will take.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n We exit the wormhole here. And we\n slingshot around Pantagruel to reach\n the ice planet.", "Pantagruel, the\n sky slowing as the orbit grows longer.\n \n Finally, a tiny speck of light appears in front of the ship.\n \n INT. OBSERVATION DECK, ENDURANCE\n \n Roth watches as the Endurance races back away from the black\n hole and into a perfect orbit around a tiny ice planet.\n \n Roth looks up from his screen, smiling.\n \n ROTH\n We're here.\n \n INT. OBSERV", "the sky with a FIERY EXPLOSION. As the\n radiation subsides, all that shoots out of the hole is a\n vaporous wisp of atomized metal, and a burned, blackened\n probe, which hurtles toward Earth.\n \n EXT. SPACE, NEAR EARTH ORBIT\n \n The probe collides with a satellite, hurling debris into the\n upper atmosphere.\n \n PROBE'S ONBOARD CAMERA P.O.V. --\n \n The probe", "\n There is nothing quite as satisfying\n as being proved utterly wrong.\n (SMILES)\n I said that a wormhole couldn't exist\n naturally. Not for more than a few\n billionths of a second. It would\n have to be... stabilized.\n \n NSA AGENT\n Stabilized by what?\n \n Ansen pauses, unsure. His assistant steps in to his defense.\n \n ASSISTANT\n We don't have any way to answer that\n ", "the view and get to work.\n Roth begins adapting his models of the local system with the\n real observational data pouring in from the ship's\n instruments.\n \n Cooper pulls himself to the comms post. PINGS the relay\n they left on the far side of the wormhole.\n \n EXT. WORMHOLE MOUTH 'A', SPACE\n \n The blue and white comms relay LIGHTS up as it receives a\n packet through the wormhole.\n \n INT. ENDUR" ], [ "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", "heartbroken. Roth smiles.\n 107.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n I understand the plan, now. Whatever\n happens, you have to keep exploring.\n Keep learning. One good idea isn't\n enough. You'll need more and more\n of them just to survive. Do you\n understand?\n \n BRAND\n (NODS)\n Thank you.\n \n ROTH\n Go.\n \n Brand turns to follow Cooper", "\n \n Cooper gasps as he surfaces from the ice-cold water. Brand\n floats past.\n \n The river appears to flow randomly down the slope, with good\n reason -- the forest rearranges itself every night.\n \n Ahead, the ground drops away again and the water rushes over\n it in a torrent.\n \n Cooper catches himself at the last minute, grabbing a thick\n tree branch with one hand and, a second later, Brand with\n the other as she slides past.\n ", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "...\n you want to know why I don't believe\n that someone would be trying to help\n us? Because I'm not sure we're worth\n saving.\n \n They sit in silence for a while.\n \n EXT. CAVE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper sleeps. After a moment, Brand steps back out into\n the darkness.\n \n EXT. PLAIN -- DAWN\n \n Brand exhales great streams of frosted breath -- the\n temperature is well below freezing.", "can climb up the\n mountains back to the ice. We're\n down to three suits. We'll have to\n send someone ahead to get a fourth.\n 81.\n \n BRAND\n I won't need one.\n \n DOYLE\n Why not?\n \n BRAND\n Because I'm not going anywhere.\n This is our new home.\n \n Brand picks up some of her instruments and a sample case and\n hikes into the jungle.\n", "OPER\n I'm sorry. I have to find out what\n happened to my sons. I promised\n them.\n \n Brand sees the resolve in his eyes. Knows there's no way to\n change his mind.\n \n BRAND\n You're a man who keeps his promises.\n Make me one-\n \n She takes his hand.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n After you're done... come find me.\n \n COOPER\n I", "\n a few hundred. Maybe a thousand.\n \n BRAND\n Would it be better if we all died?\n \n She looks him directly in the eye.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Look -- I don't have a clue what\n Case thinks you could add to the\n mission. You can come with us or\n you can stay here and wait to die.\n I don't care.\n (BEAT)\n But make no mistake -- this mission\n is our last", "A woman, 30s, step out from the trees. This is AMELIA BRAND --\n tough, bright, and a decent shot with the large rifle that\n she's pointing at Cooper.\n \n COOPER\n We were just looking for salvage.\n \n BRAND\n Is that what they call stealing these\n days?\n \n COOPER\n I didn't know it belonged to anyone.\n 29. \n \n BRAND\n It doesn", " \n BRAND\n A pocket formed by gas. There may\n be more below.\n \n The ice below them reveals nothing but murky blackness.\n Case has found some of the equipment left behind by the\n Chinese -- a battery-powered drill and a pick.\n \n DOYLE\n We'll never make it far enough down.\n \n BRAND\n Shut up. How much time do we have,\n Roth?\n \n Roth checks his watch with his usual detachment", " BRAND\n This isn't right, Roth. We can find\n a way for all of us to leave.\n \n ROTH\n This is the only way. Keep the lander\n upright and fire the secondary\n boosters when the moon passes\n overhead.\n \n COOPER\n Let me take it.\n \n ROTH\n No. You need to make it home. You're\n going to need to build more of these.\n \n Brand looks at him,", "trying\n to help us.\n \n Brand looks satisfied.\n \n DOYLE\n So you think we'll have no problem\n navigating between two massive black\n holes to a tiny planet?\n \n ROTH\n I think we'll probably be killed.\n (off his look)\n I said I thought there was a plan.\n Not that the plan was for us to find\n a planet like Earth to save a handful\n of people.\n (SHAKES HEAD)\n ", "\n didn't leave anyone behind.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand, his anger softened by sadness.\n \n COOPER\n Yes she did.\n \n Brand looks at him, grateful for this small kindness.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n That's why you were upset -- your\n father.\n \n She looks down, filled with sadness.\n \n BRAND\n He's gone. But there are other people\n who still need our help.", "The first flickers of\n light are visible in the ice above.\n \n The creatures are huge now, forty or fifty feet tall, battling\n each other more and more slowly. As Brand watches, the\n largest of them beats down his rivals, climbing to the top\n of the heap.\n \n Just as the beast reaches the top, it freezes, as if stuck.\n \n Above, the ice begins to shine brighter and brighter.\n \n Suddenly, the beast on top breaks apart, unfurling into planes", "BRAND\n Maybe that's enough.\n \n He turns away from her. She takes his shoulder.\n \n She pulls him into a kiss. His surprise disappears and he\n pulls her to him, kissing her back.\n \n Their surroundings forgotten, they drift. She LAUGHS gently\n as they bump into a wall and he pushes off of it, sending\n them spinning back into the center of the cabin.\n \n She pulls his shirt off and it hangs in space. In moments,\n the cabin is", ".\n \n Liu's tone remains polite, but there's no hope of changing\n his mind. Cooper takes a sidelong glance at Brand.\n \n COOPER\n (LOW)\n They're never going to let us go.\n \n BRAND\n (TO LIU)\n Your mission is a humanitarian one,\n wasn't it? You were sent to start a\n colony. Like us.\n \n LIU\n Our mission was to prepare for the\n", "planet's surface is hurled into\n space have almost reached them.\n \n Cooper looks at the ship. He'll never make it if he waits\n for Brand. He turns back to find her.\n \n He reaches Brand just as the moon's gravity hits them --\n they're hurtled off into space. He grabs her hand.\n \n Seconds later, everything -- the entire ice sheet, the sea\n and rocks deep below -- is hurled up after them.\n 110.\n \n Brand", "Brand?\n \n She's nowhere to be seen. Cooper looks out onto the ice.\n Brand is heading back out into the snow.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Dammit. If I don't make it back,\n just keep going.\n (points to probe)\n Get that thing home.\n \n Cooper steps to the door.\n \n EXT. SPACE ABOVE ICE PLANET\n \n The rocket tucks in close behind one of the moons orbit", " The barracks are pristine -- hundreds of perfectly made beds,\n waiting for colonists who never came, like one of the bunkers\n the federal government used to keep in case of nuclear winter.\n \n DOYLE\n Look at the size of this place.\n They built it for thousands of people.\n But no one came.\n \n Brand looks around, determined.\n \n BRAND\n They will. We can salvage it. This\n place will save us years.\n 92.\n ", ".\n \n Cooper begins to argue, then stops. He knows enough history\n to know she's right. He looks at the withering crops.\n \n COOPER\n (QUIET)\n That's why you're looking for a planet\n with oxygen. Water.\n \n BRAND\n A new home for humanity. We'll set\n up a colony, then return to bring\n more people across.\n \n COOPER\n But you'd still only be able to save" ], [ "\n \n DOYLE (CONT'D)\n This place isn't paradise. It's\n doomed. Just like us.\n \n The crew stand, watching the sequence in stunned silence.\n \n COOPER\n How long does this place have?\n \n CASE\n A few years. A decade at most.\n \n Doyle turns to Brand.\n \n DOYLE\n So much for the plan.\n \n Cooper looks at Brand. She", "themselves in. The shelter is well\n stocked with food and equipment.\n \n Brand is taking readings with a radiation detector.\n \n BRAND\n The whole place has been dosed with\n huge levels of radiation. What\n happened here?\n \n Cooper looks at the pieces of a modular, one-person rocket,\n a last-ditch means of escape, stored, untouched in the\n shelter. He steps back, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n This is the Taich", "running from the rumbling, smashing melee behind\n them. But as they run, the entire jungle around them begins\n to break apart and move.\n \n After a moment, they're surrounded. The jungle is completely\n disassembling itself into a million different pieces, each\n one a different size and shape than the others.\n \n COOPER\n We have to reach the shelter.\n \n They head off, crashing through the melee.\n \n EXT. SHORE, ICE PLAN", "\n Black holes are a more stable supply\n of power than stars in many ways.\n \n COOPER\n You really think there's a plan?\n \n BRAND\n I hope so.\n (looks at him)\n You don't?\n \n COOPER\n I guess I just think we're on our\n own.\n \n Cooper looks at the impossibly complicated system of black\n holes orbiting each other.\n \n EXT. LAGRANGE PO", "from the ice planet is belted securely\n into one of the seats, filled with the garbled machine code\n of the gravitational machine.\n \n COOPER\n The probe...\n \n Doyle looks back.\n \n DOYLE\n We get back to earth, you and I can\n try to make sense of the code.\n Rebuild the gravity machine.\n \n Cooper stares at it, suddenly realizing something. He\n unbuckles himself.\n \n Cooper stands and walks over", "heartbroken. Roth smiles.\n 107.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n I understand the plan, now. Whatever\n happens, you have to keep exploring.\n Keep learning. One good idea isn't\n enough. You'll need more and more\n of them just to survive. Do you\n understand?\n \n BRAND\n (NODS)\n Thank you.\n \n ROTH\n Go.\n \n Brand turns to follow Cooper", "\n them will push them over the top.\n Maybe that's part of the plan.\n \n COOPER\n (shakes his head)\n The plan.\n \n BRAND\n Why is it so hard for you to accept\n that someone might be trying to help\n us?\n \n Cooper is silent for a moment. His mood darkens.\n \n COOPER\n I was in Denver during the first\n year of the famine. I was just a\n kid. We kept waiting", "view -- the distant hulk of\n Gargantua rising over the horizon of the shining ice planet.\n \n He takes a final breath and activates the black box.\n \n Instantly, the moon's gravity is magnified a hundred million\n times over. Roth is instantly crushed as the moon collapses\n around him into a tiny sphere.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand are only thirty yards or so from the lander.\n \n ", "trying to catch their breath.\n \n BRAND\n Thank you.\n \n COOPER\n Don't mention it.\n \n Cooper feels the rocks beneath him, which are translucent,\n like glass, and polished to an impossible shine.\n \n He looks up to see Case dragging Roth and Doyle, still in\n their suits, out of the water.\n \n EXT. SHORE, ICE PLANET -- DAY\n \n Doyle and Roth have stripped", "trying\n to help us.\n \n Brand looks satisfied.\n \n DOYLE\n So you think we'll have no problem\n navigating between two massive black\n holes to a tiny planet?\n \n ROTH\n I think we'll probably be killed.\n (off his look)\n I said I thought there was a plan.\n Not that the plan was for us to find\n a planet like Earth to save a handful\n of people.\n (SHAKES HEAD)\n ", "you think\n we could understand their plan,\n either?\n \n Doyle gives up -- Roth is impossible.\n \n Cooper looks at the tiny ship tracing an improbable route\n towards the ice planet. What has he gotten himself into?\n \n INT. MACHINE SHOP, UNDERGROUND FACILITY -- DAY\n \n Brand's Father is sitting at a desk, examining the corrupted\n data on the probe. Tars is helping him.\n \n Brand's Father looks up from", "We don't belong\n in any one place. Can't you see\n that now? Not Earth. Not this place.\n Nowhere. If the human race is going\n to survive, we need to keep moving.\n Split up. Spread out. Fly. With\n this, we can.\n \n Case looks at the box. Makes a decision.\n \n CASE\n In the morning we're taking this and\n going home.\n \n Doyle, Roth and Case set about making preparations to", " \n BRAND\n A pocket formed by gas. There may\n be more below.\n \n The ice below them reveals nothing but murky blackness.\n Case has found some of the equipment left behind by the\n Chinese -- a battery-powered drill and a pick.\n \n DOYLE\n We'll never make it far enough down.\n \n BRAND\n Shut up. How much time do we have,\n Roth?\n \n Roth checks his watch with his usual detachment", "while Cooper works at it with a blowtorch.\n \n -- Tars pulls the probe out of the back of a plane.\n \n -- Brand's father, older, studies the probe. Gives up.\n \n -- Much later. People are moving around in the darkened\n base, scavenging equipment.\n \n CUT TO:\n \n EXT. FIELD -- DAY\n \n A combine harvester is dead in a field, service hatch opened.\n A MAN is lying", "front of the bus.\n \n A battered PICKUP pulls up, and a MAN, 30s, gets out, leaving\n his two SONS in the car. This is COOPER. He joins the\n ballplayers staring at the lifeless diesel engine.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n Seized up on us.\n \n COOPER\n Long way to come by bus. I thought\n you guys would have a plane.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n We did.", "There's\n still time...\n \n The ship's controls TONE in ALARM. Brand and Cooper turn:\n \n Case is standing at the controls.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Case... what are you doing?\n \n Case finishes typing in a sequence on the command controls.\n Presses the \"execute\" button.\n \n The last nuclear engine begins to detach from the ship.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n Wait... no...", "this one targets everything.\n Essentially it's more efficient at\n consuming our food than we are.\n \n Cooper looks at the dying corn.\n \n COOPER\n But it doesn't affect the corn.\n \n BRAND\n Not yet. But it will. We've grown\n a dozen forms of it that can. It's\n just a matter of time before the\n same ones develop out there.\n (BEAT)\n The mission is to rescue us.\n Humanity", " She stops. Something has caught her attention.\n \n COOPER\n What?\n \n BRAND\n Nothing. I just -- I could have\n sworn it just moved.\n \n She walks to the thick, knotted trunk of a tree. Puts a\n hand on it.\n \n Overhead, the ice flickers out and the darkness begins to\n descend, more rapidly than on Earth.\n \n Suddenly, the tree SHUDDERS. Then, the bark begins to ooze\n", "with me, please.\n \n Case strides off.\n \n INT. MISSION CONTROL, UNDERGROUND HANGAR -- DAY\n \n The lights dim as Brand's father brings up a schematic of\n our solar system. Case points to the picture of the ice\n planet recovered from the probe.\n \n CASE\n You're right, Mr. Cooper. The planet\n you saw is a long way from earth. A\n very long way indeed.\n \n Brand looks down", "ROTH\n Fascinating. I think-\n \n Case grabs him by the arm and pushes him bodily into the\n shelter after Doyle.\n \n Case pushes the door closed.\n \n INT. SHELTER, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n They crouch inside the shelter as the organisms begin POUNDING\n at the walls, trying to force their way inside.\n \n It's going to be a long night.\n \n EXT. J" ], [ ". KELLY\n The new textbooks explain that the\n Apollo lunar missions were faked in\n order to bankrupt the Soviet Union.\n \n COOPER\n You don't believe we went to the\n moon?\n \n MS. KELLY\n I believe it was a brilliant piece\n of propaganda. The Soviets spent\n years trying to build rockets and\n other useless machines.\n \n COOPER\n \"Useless machines\"?\n 18.\n \n Cooper looks", "\n that Murph brought a book to school\n about the lunar landings.\n \n He slides an old textbook with a picture of a rocket on the\n cover across the desk to Cooper.\n \n COOPER\n One of my old textbooks. Murph liked\n the pictures.\n \n MS. KELLY\n This is one of the old federal\n textbooks. We've replaced them with\n corrected versions.\n \n COOPER\n Corrected?\n \n MS", "(CONT'D)\n The science team returned after five\n years with a new technology. They\n began the experiments upstairs, then\n they left again and never returned.\n 95.\n \n BRAND\n Where did they go?\n \n CASE\n I don't know. They've deleted their\n mission plan. There's nothing else.\n \n DOYLE\n I think I know what the problem is.\n \n Doyle is manipulating the time component of the map", "?\n \n DOYLE\n Why not? We've tested it a hundred\n times.\n \n COOPER\n The power supply is no good. If the\n voltage fluctuates under load, the\n unit will fail.\n \n BRAND\n Now how could you possibly know that?\n \n COOPER\n Bought thirty of them off a guy in\n Florida. Had to rebuild every last\n one.\n (SMILES)\n They work great on a", "Brand's sudden friendliness.\n \n COOPER\n Why?\n \n BRAND\n Because it lowers your blood pressure.\n 55.\n \n Cooper looks at his hand. Blood is pouring out of his palm\n in large glistening bubbles.\n \n INT. INFIRMARY, ENDURANCE\n \n Cooper, slightly embarrassed, is seated while Case is hunched\n over his hand, sewing the meat of it back together with\n perfect little stitches.\n", " as irrational. But they're not.\n They're programming.\n \n COOPER\n (DEFENSIVE)\n My relationships aren't programming.\n \n CASE\n Exactly. You believe it so much you\n won't listen to me.\n \n COOPER\n How would that make us better at\n surviving?\n \n CASE\n When I die, the last thing I will\n see will be a diagnostic of my own\n power cycle. Would", "an ice-\n covered planet. Then nothing. The rest of the probe's drive\n is filled with garbage, noise.\n \n Murph switches off the screen.\n \n He stands. Begins to leave without the probe. Stops. Turns\n back. Picks it up and takes it with him.\n \n INT. KITCHEN, MURPH'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Murph is hunched over the probe, trying to pull data off of\n it with a defibrillator.", ". Case notices.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n Our science officer doesn't think I\n should trust you with any of this.\n One of the curious things about humans\n is that the more alike you are, the\n more initially hostile you are to\n each other. As if by design.\n \n Brand makes eye contact with Cooper, then looks away,\n embarrassed.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n I've found the best way to earn a\n person's trust is", " it.\n \n DOYLE\n How do you know that?\n \n BRAND\n I find it hard to believe that someone\n would build a wormhole to a planet\n with water and oxygen just to lead\n us to a dead end.\n \n DOYLE\n I thought you were a scientist, Brand.\n That sounds more like a hypothesis.\n \n BRAND\n A guess. That's right. We don't\n have time to wait for conclusive\n", "He has incorporated an ancient\n laptop into the chain, and is tweaking values on it, trying\n to decrypt the contents.\n \n His WIFE, several months pregnant, turns back to him from\n the stove.\n \n MURPH'S WIFE\n Would you get that thing off of the\n table?\n \n Murph nods, absorbed. Keys in a final tweak to the decryption\n software. Hits return.\n \n Suddenly, the screen begins filling with data.\n ", "\n to have you here with us.\n \n Cooper smiles, uncomfortable.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR (CONT'D)\n None of us would be here without the\n efforts of you and the other\n crewmembers of the Endurance.\n (smiles, unconvincingly)\n So I don't want you to take this the\n wrong way. But there are some\n questions I've been told to ask.\n \n The man looks petrified, like he's been instructed to gr", " \n CASE\n How are you feeling?\n \n COOPER\n Fine. The anesthetic is working.\n \n CASE\n No -- I mean how is your mood? You\n seem to be developing good relations\n with everyone on the mission. Except\n perhaps Ms. Brand.\n \n COOPER\n (EMBARRASSED)\n You worry about my hand and I'll\n worry about my mood.\n \n CASE\n Only five percent of", "COOPER\n That rocket doesn't have enough thrust\n or fuel to get you to Jupiter.\n \n CASE\n The main ship was built in orbit.\n It has nuclear engines, with enough\n fuel to last for several years.\n \n Cooper looks at the schematic.\n \n COOPER\n Why are you telling me this? I\n already told you I'm not going to\n tell anyone about this place.\n \n CASE\n I know you won't, Mr.", ". Their tractor begins sliding towards\n the wreckage of the barn, chunky tires plowing up the soil.\n \n Finally, the RUMBLING STOPS as the power lines short out in\n a FIERY display.\n \n As the dust clears, Murph and his daughter examine the mess:\n \n The entire barn has been crushed into a tiny ball.\n \n Murph looks at his daughter.\n \n MURPH\n Do you remember what you changed?\n \n Wide-", " \n Corn blows in an artificial breeze. A red tractor makes its\n way through the field, which curves gently up in the distance.\n \n ADMINISTRATOR (V.O.)\n The machines do most of the work, of\n course, but we were able to get you\n a few acres. You're going to be a\n farmer again.\n \n After a moment, the tractor stops. Cooper climbs down from\n the seat. Looks at the front steering linkage, which is\n jammed", "t crack it open.\n \n DONALD\n Good. Clear it off the table so I\n can serve dinner.\n \n Tom and Murph walk in. Murph's got another black eye.\n \n DONALD (CONT'D)\n What happened this time?\n \n MURPH\n I got suspended. Paul said anyone\n who believed we went to the moon was\n an idiot. So I hit him.\n \n COOPER\n Good boy. Hand me", "UMENT)\n After a few years they discovered a\n problem.\n \n DOYLE\n What problem?\n \n CASE\n It doesn't say. Their science team\n took the ship to continue exploring\n the system. It says they found some\n kind of...\n (TRANSLATING)\n ...The word literally means\n 'treasure.'\n \n Case skims through the rest of the logs, large portions of\n which have been redacted.\n \n CASE", "Brand, realizing something.\n \n COOPER\n You knew, didn't you? You and Case\n figured it out when we landed.\n \n Brand looks down.\n \n BRAND\n I thought... I couldn't be sure.\n \n COOPER\n Sure you could. You're brilliant.\n You know everything.\n 114.\n \n BRAND\n Cooper... we needed to keep going.\n I'm so sorry. Your children...\n ", "Secrets Act.\n \n He steps out the door, leaving the men alone. The assistant,\n outraged, turns back to his boss.\n \n ASSISTANT\n They can't keep this a secret. You\n know that. Sooner or later...\n \n The younger man looks down, embarrassed, as he notices that\n tears are rolling down the older man's cheeks.\n 6.\n \n ANSEN\n I don't care about that. I've spent\n my whole", "COOPER (CONT'D)\n Where the hell did you come from?\n \n Cooper shrugs. Turns off the monitor.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n We'll take it down to Tyson's tomorrow\n and have it melted down. Might be\n some copper inside.\n \n MURPH\n But what about its mission? What\n about the information onboard?\n \n COOPER\n There's no one for it to report to.\n NASA is" ], [ "He stops, and laughs, remembering what Case told him about\n what happens when humans die.\n \n He struggles to his feet and stumbles a few more feet,\n eventually coming to rest just steps from the ship.\n \n Cooper takes a final step. Finally, he collapses under his\n ship, as the wind continues to HOWL around him.\n \n As the snow clears for a moment, Cooper is alone on a vast\n arctic tundra. He will die alone.\n \n BLACK\n ", "ing on the edge of death.\n \n The old man looks at him, eyes widening in excitement. He\n strains, trying to reach the bedside table. He's trying to\n reach the drawer. Cooper helps him open it.\n \n Inside is a simple, familiar wristwatch. The old man\n carefully takes out the watch. He gives the watch a few\n winds and, hands shaking, offers it to Cooper.\n \n Cooper, eyes filling with tears, closes his hand over the\n old man's hand, envelop", "a plan. Was this\n what the beings who made the wormhole intended all along?\n \n Cooper suddenly spots the outline of the ship through the\n driving snow. He stumbles back up to his feet and struggles\n a few more steps, then stumbles again, spent.\n \n Finally, he sits down in the snow to die.\n \n As his senses flicker in and out, he is struck with memories\n of his boys, so vivid he reaches out for them, crawling\n forward in the snow.\n \n ", "ing\n the ice planet.\n \n The rocket fires to maneuver closer and closer to the moon's\n surface -- the tiny moon doesn't provide enough gravity to\n attract it.\n \n When the rocket is close enough, Roth detonates the explosive\n bolts holding him inside and leaps for the moon's surface.\n \n He scrambles to grab hold of the craggy surface. Behind\n him, the rocket smashes apart against the surface.\n \n Roth finally gets a good", "unsure\n about this.\n \n MURPH\n Hello, Dad. You sonofabitch.\n \n He laughs, self-conscious.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n It's your 60th birthday today.\n Thought I would celebrate with you a\n bit.\n (BEAT)\n I guess I understand why you left.\n The corn is dying now, too.\n Tom says there's less and less at\n harvest every year.\n ", ".\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n Hi, Dad. I'm sorry it's been awhile.\n \n He stops, emotional.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n Grandpa died last week. We buried\n him out in the back forty, next to\n Mom.\n (LOOKS DOWN)\n Where we'd have buried you, if you'd\n ever come back.\n \n He laughs, gallows humor.\n \n ", "another.\n \n FADE TO BLACK\n \n EXT. CORNFIELD, CENTRAL CALIFORNIA -- DAY\n \n Corn. As far as the eye can see.\n \n SUPER TITLE: \"FIFTY YEARS LATER\"\n \n A large old diesel tour bus is parked by the side of a dirt\n road, smoke pouring out of its open hood. A dozen MEN in\n BASEBALL UNIFORMS are standing around the", "you like to know\n the last thing you will see?\n \n Cooper hesitates. Case senses the jump in his heart rate.\n \n CASE (CONT'D)\n This conversation is making you\n uncomfortable. We should stop.\n 57.\n \n COOPER\n No. I want to know.\n \n CASE\n The last thing you will see before\n you die will be your children.\n (BEAT)\n Your mind does this to you to get\n you", " \n Cooper shivers, pressed against the wall. The storm is still\n raging outside. He is freezing to death. He has to move\n now or he will die. He pulls the hood tight around his face\n and stumbles outside.\n \n EXT. SNOWBOUND FIELD -- DAY\n \n Cooper makes his way through the blinding snow. He tries to\n find his way, but the ship has been consumed by the blizzard.\n \n He stumbles to the ground, dropping the glass", "\n He stops for a second.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n You're gone. You're never coming\n back. And I've known that for a\n long time. Lois says -- that's my\n wife, Dad -- she says I have to let\n you go. So I am.\n 123.\n \n He reaches up to turn off the camera.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n Wherever you are, I hope you're at\n peace", " might have been able to find the\n cyst in my wife's brain before she\n died, rather than afterwards. And\n then my kids could have been raised\n by two parents, instead of me and\n their pain-in-the-ass grandfather.\n \n Ms. Kelly's face falls, ashen. Cooper swallows his anger.\n Most of it, anyway.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n You ever consider the best thing for\n the world and humanity might have\n been for us to part", ". Their tractor begins sliding towards\n the wreckage of the barn, chunky tires plowing up the soil.\n \n Finally, the RUMBLING STOPS as the power lines short out in\n a FIERY display.\n \n As the dust clears, Murph and his daughter examine the mess:\n \n The entire barn has been crushed into a tiny ball.\n \n Murph looks at his daughter.\n \n MURPH\n Do you remember what you changed?\n \n Wide-", "heartbroken. Roth smiles.\n 107.\n \n ROTH (CONT'D)\n I understand the plan, now. Whatever\n happens, you have to keep exploring.\n Keep learning. One good idea isn't\n enough. You'll need more and more\n of them just to survive. Do you\n understand?\n \n BRAND\n (NODS)\n Thank you.\n \n ROTH\n Go.\n \n Brand turns to follow Cooper", "Ran out of parts for it.\n You know anything about diesels?\n \n COOPER\n A little.\n \n Cooper steps to the engine compartment.\n \n The ballplayer notices Cooper's two boys, TOM, 15, and MURPH,\n 10, watching them. He wanders over.\n 7.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n You think your dad's going to be\n able to help us out?\n \n Murph, a filth-", "hole\n shields the planet's surface from it\n for twenty hours at a stretch. Time's\n about up.\n \n Even Brand looks rattled.\n \n BRAND\n How long do we have left?\n \n ROTH\n About five minutes.\n \n COOPER\n Then what?\n \n BRAND\n Then we die. The radiation will\n cook us alive.\n \n Cooper looks around, their predicament settling in.", "for someone to\n come help us. People starved to\n death sitting on the ground, waiting\n for someone to come.\n (MORE)\n 90.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n (looks at her)\n I only made it because I realized\n that nobody was coming to save us.\n We were on our own.\n \n Cooper looks away. The memories are never that far away.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Honestly? After the things I saw", "view -- the distant hulk of\n Gargantua rising over the horizon of the shining ice planet.\n \n He takes a final breath and activates the black box.\n \n Instantly, the moon's gravity is magnified a hundred million\n times over. Roth is instantly crushed as the moon collapses\n around him into a tiny sphere.\n \n EXT. SURFACE, ICE PLANET -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and Brand are only thirty yards or so from the lander.\n \n ", "bed, fully clothed, exhausted. He\n stares up at the ceiling. This is his life.\n \n INT. BEDROOM, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n The air is filled with a PIERCING NOISE.\n \n Cooper BOLTS upright. Stumbles out the door.\n \n INT. HALLWAY, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper's boys are in the hallway, exhausted. Cooper, holding\n a baseball bat, makes", "'t\n die... they're just competing...\n trying out different shapes, looking\n for the best one.\n 88.\n \n Cooper watches as a hideously-awkward-looking, five-legged\n beast stumbles past and tackles another animal.\n \n COOPER\n I'd say they have a long way to go.\n \n BRAND\n (AMAZED)\n They do this every night.\n \n As they watch, a two-foot-", "front of the bus.\n \n A battered PICKUP pulls up, and a MAN, 30s, gets out, leaving\n his two SONS in the car. This is COOPER. He joins the\n ballplayers staring at the lifeless diesel engine.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n Seized up on us.\n \n COOPER\n Long way to come by bus. I thought\n you guys would have a plane.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n We did." ], [ "-- DAY\n \n Cooper is standing on a rooftop deck of a four-story building\n in a medium-sized city surrounded by fields. But as the\n road and the buildings stretch into the distance, the\n landscape curves up, not down.\n \n The entire landscape is contained within a huge cylinder-\n shaped space station.\n \n Cooper stumbles, and reaches instinctively out. The doctor\n catches him.\n \n DOCTOR\n You're OK. We get this from people\n who", " I have catalogued almost everything\n they had built here.\n \n COOPER\n Must have taken you a while.\n \n TARS\n One hundred and fifty-seven years.\n \n Cooper shakes his head in disbelief.\n \n COOPER\n How are they keeping the lights on\n in this thing?\n \n Tars, in answer, points to a far door.\n \n TARS\n Follow me.\n \n INT. ENG", "stands by the door.\n He gives his son, Tom, a hug. Murph is nowhere to be seen.\n \n Cooper looks to the back of the house.\n \n INT. MURPH'S ROOM, FARMHOUSE -- DAY\n \n Murph is sitting at his desk, crossing out numbers on a sheet\n covered with math. Cooper steps inside.\n \n He notices a packed suitcase sitting by the door. The boy\n looks up, hopeful.\n \n MURPH\n ", "Doyle GASPS as the sphere nearest him moves through his body,\n coming to rest in the middle and bending his entire torso\n like a fun house mirror.\n \n Suddenly, the sphere wrapped around Cooper's hand begins\n moving, tugging him gently through the cabin.\n \n In the next moment, all three of them are being propelled\n through the cabin.\n \n It's a magical moment -- a communion, a dance between\n creatures on either side of a massive, invisible wall.\n \n D", "Cooper unplugs a monitor from his computer and plugs it into\n the defibrillator. After a moment, an image fills the screen:\n \n An ICE-COVERED PLANET nestled in the center of a system\n impossibly dense with stars. Murph stares, transfixed.\n \n MURPH\n Where is that, dad?\n \n COOPER\n I don't know.\n \n Cooper looks at the probe.\n 22.\n \n ", "There's going to be important work\n to do here, too.\n \n Tears are streaming down the boy's face. Cooper takes his\n watch off. Looks at it.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I need you to hold onto this. Will\n you do that for me?\n \n Cooper hands Murph the watch. The boy nods, saddened.\n \n MURPH\n You're not coming back, are you?\n \n COOPER\n ", "\n Tars leads them on.\n \n EXT. HANGAR, SPACE STATION\n \n Tars leads them past an incredibly sleek fleet of spacecraft.\n Cooper starts to stop, but Tars doesn't slow down.\n \n INT. SIMULATION ROOM\n \n In the center of the room is a giant holographic globe of\n the Earth, perfect down to the tiniest detail.\n \n COOPER\n It's a map?\n \n ", " \n Cooper moves closer to it, looking into its blackened eyes.\n He steps back, clearly a little spooked.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I think we need to go, Murph.\n \n MURPH\n But can't we take it back? You could\n fix it up, get him to do chores.\n \n COOPER\n No. I don't know what this place\n is, but we're leaving.\n \n Murph, ignoring", "glinting from the black panels on its back.\n It's a beautiful sight.\n \n Cooper crouches next to Murph.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n You want to give it a whirl?\n \n Murph looks at his dad, wide-eyed. He takes the laptop and\n moves his fingers gingerly across the pad.\n \n In response, the massive plane banks into a tight turn in\n the valley below.\n \n For a moment, Murph is in pure", "'s onboard camera documents its journey. Fragments\n OF VIDEO:\n 139.\n \n -- The probe HURTLES through the atmosphere, toward North\n America, the Gulf Coast.\n \n -- The probe SMASHES down into a sandbar.\n \n -- Daylight. A man is descending toward it, dangling from a\n rope. It's Cooper.\n \n -- Night. A kitchen. A little boy -- Murph -- stares at\n the probe,", "\n That's our solar system.\n \n After a moment the ball bearings break apart again and\n rearrange into a larger, more complicated system -- Gargantua,\n Pantagruel, and the ice planet.\n \n Finally, the bearings compress to a two-dimensional sheet.\n Inside the sheet, one solitary ball bearing orbits around\n the stars and then pushes up, off of the sheet, into an\n umbrella shaped space that rises up from the sheet.\n \n COOPER", "Roth has hooked the box up to a terminal and it scrolling\n through the incredibly sophisticated machine code, trying to\n parse how it works. Cooper looks on.\n \n ROTH\n (AMAZED)\n It barely uses any power. I'm only\n beginning to understand what it does\n but I think it sends a signal out\n into the bulk. It must tap into the\n same technologies that were used to\n create the wormholes in the first\n place.\n \n COOPER\n What", "front door. Once\n again, the movement shuts it up.\n \n EXT. PORCH, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and his boys roll the probe out of the front door.\n It BUMPS down the front steps and comes to rest in the dirt.\n After a moment, the unholy RACKET starts up again.\n \n Cooper keeps rolling it, but it doesn't seem to help. Murph\n looks up, sees the stars overhead.\n \n MUR", " \n Above, the ball begins to slowly fall up, not down, toward\n the town center above.\n \n After a second, the ball smashes through a skylight of a\n building high above them.\n \n Cooper watches as the kid rounds the bases, laughing.\n 152.\n \n INT. KITCHEN, FARMHOUSE, COOPER STATION -- DAY\n \n Cooper's robot sits at the kitchen table. Cooper is fiddling\n around in the back of his head.\n", "us only a few days. But far\n more time will be passing back home.\n \n The ship's trajectory cuts through the deep gravity well of\n the smaller black hole to reach the ice planet.\n \n COOPER\n How much time?\n \n ROTH\n Based on the information from the\n probe -- as much as five years.\n \n Doyle looks at the tiny ship's trajectory, threaded between\n two black holes. He looks worried.\n \n DOYLE", "Cooper's old Piper Cub. He\n checks over the engine, lights, prop. Turns the key. Fires\n her up. The diesel wakes with a GRUNT.\n \n EXT. AIRSTRIP -- DAY\n \n Murph wheels the old plane out onto the field by hand.\n \n EXT. SKIES OVER THE SOUTHWEST -- DAY\n \n The ancient plane skirts the San Gabriels.\n \n EXT. FIELD, SANTA CRU", "\n COOPER\n Wait a second--\n \n Tars TEARS the door off the plane. Reaches inside and pulls\n out the probe. The woman looks at it, stunned.\n \n BRAND\n Get it inside.\n (MORE)\n 30.\n \n BRAND (CONT'D)\n (points rifle at Cooper)\n You too. We'll figure out what to\n do with you later.\n \n Tars stops, and two panels open", "\n He pauses. Lifts up his hand and scratches his stubble.\n \n Cooper pauses the message. He looks carefully at the screen:\n \n Murph is wearing his dad's watch.\n \n Cooper lets the message play. Tears are streaming down his\n face.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n Rot's setting in. I guess you were\n right for clearing out while you had\n the chance.\n (reaches up to switch\n OFF CAMER", " \n COOPER\n Here. Can we reach it?\n \n Brand looks at the map. The point appears on the far side\n of Gargantua. Brand studies the trajectory.\n \n BRAND\n We can use the thrusters to keep us\n on the critical orbit. Then slingshot\n us towards Gargantua.\n \n The thrusters STRAIN to push the ship back up towards the\n critical orbit.\n 118.\n \n Suddenly, the tidal gravity SL", "from the ice planet is belted securely\n into one of the seats, filled with the garbled machine code\n of the gravitational machine.\n \n COOPER\n The probe...\n \n Doyle looks back.\n \n DOYLE\n We get back to earth, you and I can\n try to make sense of the code.\n Rebuild the gravity machine.\n \n Cooper stares at it, suddenly realizing something. He\n unbuckles himself.\n \n Cooper stands and walks over" ], [ "unsure\n about this.\n \n MURPH\n Hello, Dad. You sonofabitch.\n \n He laughs, self-conscious.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n It's your 60th birthday today.\n Thought I would celebrate with you a\n bit.\n (BEAT)\n I guess I understand why you left.\n The corn is dying now, too.\n Tom says there's less and less at\n harvest every year.\n ", "TOM (CONT'D)\n Murph was there for the funeral.\n It's been a few years since I've\n seen him. He's been down in the\n Gulf Coast. He's an engineer. I\n guess someone followed in your\n footsteps after all.\n \n Tom looks down.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n You're not listening to this. I\n know that. All of these messages\n are just out there, drifting in the\n darkness.\n ", "\n \n Murph is staring off into the distance. He's heard something.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n Then Cooper hears it, too. A LOW RUMBLING SOUND. Cooper\n looks out over the river. Then he turns back and tackles\n his son to the ground.\n \n Suddenly, a MASSIVE AIRPLANE SOARS overhead, so close they\n can almost touch it. It bounces the truck on its suspension,\n ", "Murph. There's no one\n to take it back to.\n \n MURPH\n But what if there is, dad? What if\n there's something we can salvage?\n \n Cooper thinks it over. Murph scrambles to get his shoes.\n \n EXT. COOPER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n The shriek is still muffled. Cooper walks over to the well,\n putting in a pair of earplugs.\n \n A line is staked off", " \n Cooper moves closer to it, looking into its blackened eyes.\n He steps back, clearly a little spooked.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I think we need to go, Murph.\n \n MURPH\n But can't we take it back? You could\n fix it up, get him to do chores.\n \n COOPER\n No. I don't know what this place\n is, but we're leaving.\n \n Murph, ignoring", "encrusted kid with a black eye, smiles at the\n ballplayer.\n \n MURPH\n My dad can fix anything.\n (WRY SMILE)\n Except maybe your fastball.\n \n The ballplayer frowns: smartass kid.\n \n After a moment under the hood, Cooper signals to the driver,\n who tries the engine. It turns over once, then STARTS.\n \n BALLPLAYER\n Sure appreciate the help.\n \n COOPER", "ones -- the man's own parents. Grandparents.\n Cooper spots a tiny framed picture with someone he recognizes:\n \n Murph, 80 years old, surrounded by his daughter and her\n family. They are standing in front of a re-opened Cape\n Canaveral, and a huge spaceship under construction.\n \n Cooper picks up the picture and stares at it.\n \n The doctor points to a shy little boy hiding behind Murph's\n leg in the picture.\n \n DOCTOR", ". KITCHEN, COOPER'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Tom heads off for school with Donald. Murph, still suspended,\n looks up at Cooper, smiling.\n \n MURPH\n What are we doing today?\n \n COOPER\n You're staying here and cleaning the\n house.\n \n Murph looks crestfallen. He looks out towards the yard.\n Cooper follows his stare.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n I told you,", "T. YARD, MURPH'S HOUSE -- DAY\n \n Murph moves towards the barn, concerned. The shaking is\n growing stronger -- the entire structure is buckling.\n \n Emily, now 18, backs out of the barn.\n \n EMILY COOPER\n Dad... I'm sorry... I made some\n changes to the machine. I think I\n did something wrong.\n \n Murph puts an arm around his daughter and as they watch, the\n entire barn IMPLODES", "I've been doing the math, dad. I\n weigh about 85 pounds. Now that's\n an extra ton of fuel. But if-\n \n COOPER\n You have to stay here, pal.\n \n MURPH\n (DISTRAUGHT)\n I heard you talking to grandpa. I'm\n like you. I don't fit here, either.\n You know that.\n \n Cooper puts an arm around the boy.\n \n COOPER\n ", "\n that Murph brought a book to school\n about the lunar landings.\n \n He slides an old textbook with a picture of a rocket on the\n cover across the desk to Cooper.\n \n COOPER\n One of my old textbooks. Murph liked\n the pictures.\n \n MS. KELLY\n This is one of the old federal\n textbooks. We've replaced them with\n corrected versions.\n \n COOPER\n Corrected?\n \n MS", "-- DAY\n \n Murph lets himself inside. Lights a flare.\n \n The place has been gutted. Thieves and scavengers have taken\n almost everything.\n \n Murph finds one of the robots, or what's left of it -- it's\n been stripped, leaving only the bare composite skeleton.\n The empty eye sockets stare back at Murph.\n \n Murph looks around the place. There is nothing left to\n salvage. He turns to leave. Hears a", " \n Cooper looks down at the dirt. Sighs.\n \n COOPER\n Murph's law.\n \n MURPH\n (CONFUSED)\n What's that?\n \n Tom snorts with laughter. Turns to his dad.\n \n TOM\n The kid doesn't even know what he\n was named after...\n \n Cooper shoots Tom a look -- enough.\n \n TOM (CONT'D)\n Murph'", "front door. Once\n again, the movement shuts it up.\n \n EXT. PORCH, COOPER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT\n \n Cooper and his boys roll the probe out of the front door.\n It BUMPS down the front steps and comes to rest in the dirt.\n After a moment, the unholy RACKET starts up again.\n \n Cooper keeps rolling it, but it doesn't seem to help. Murph\n looks up, sees the stars overhead.\n \n MUR", "\n He pauses. Lifts up his hand and scratches his stubble.\n \n Cooper pauses the message. He looks carefully at the screen:\n \n Murph is wearing his dad's watch.\n \n Cooper lets the message play. Tears are streaming down his\n face.\n \n MURPH (CONT'D)\n Rot's setting in. I guess you were\n right for clearing out while you had\n the chance.\n (reaches up to switch\n OFF CAMER", "stands by the door.\n He gives his son, Tom, a hug. Murph is nowhere to be seen.\n \n Cooper looks to the back of the house.\n \n INT. MURPH'S ROOM, FARMHOUSE -- DAY\n \n Murph is sitting at his desk, crossing out numbers on a sheet\n covered with math. Cooper steps inside.\n \n He notices a packed suitcase sitting by the door. The boy\n looks up, hopeful.\n \n MURPH\n ", ", 50s, slightly gray, sits at his kitchen table. He\n hears a distant RUMBLE.\n \n He looks up. His wife is standing by the sink.\n \n MURPH\n Where's Emily?\n \n WIFE\n Out in the barn. She's been tinkering\n with your old projects.\n 143.\n \n Murph stands up. The roof of the barn is visibly shaking.\n He steps outside.\n \n EX", " \n MURPH\n Can't do anything for you. There\n aren't any more parts for these.\n Not anywhere.\n \n FARMER\n You don't understand. We're getting\n less than a hundred pounds per acre.\n We need to plant more, not less.\n \n Murph looks around him at the pathetic crop of corn that\n stretches around them. The plants are feeble, barely able\n to support themselves.\n 140.\n \n ", "looks a\n little off. He walks over.\n \n He pokes at the undergrowth with his rifle. The rifle CLANKS\n against something metal. Cooper reaches -- it's a camouflage\n scrim. He gently pulls it aside, revealing a chemical\n transport truck.\n \n Cooper steps back, alarmed. He brings up his rifle.\n \n COOPER (CONT'D)\n Murph?\n \n He looks around. Murph is nowhere to be seen. Cooper curses\n and", "under the machine, working.\n \n The man hauls himself out from under the huge machine. Dusts\n himself off.\n \n It's Murph, 30s. He looks at the FARMER who is waiting for\n the verdict. Murph shakes his head.\n \n MURPH\n It's done. Auto-pilot's packed up\n for the last time.\n \n FARMER\n You can't make it work a little\n longer?\n" ] ]

[ "What is the Plan A mission?", "Who is Dr. Brand?", "Which astronaut landed on the planet that is likely habitable?", "What is the name of the spaceship that Cooper, Romilly, Doyle, Amelia, and robots TARS and CASE use to travel through the wormhole? ", "What causes Doyle's death on the first planet (Miller's) the crew visits?", "What lie does Mann tell Cooper and the remaining crew when the arrive at his planet?", "Who kills Mann?", "When Cooper enters the blackhole tesseract, with whom is he able to make contact?", "In addition to the human crew and robots, what does the Endurance carry with it on the trip through the wormhole?", "How many embryos did the Endurance carry on the first mission?", "Who was Murphy's \"ghost\" all along?", "What were the names of the two robots that traveled with Cooper?", "What would colonizing a inhabitable planet ensure?", "Who attempted to kill Cooper?", "What did Cooper's crew find from Miller's expedition?", "What was the name of the Black Hole?", "What was the purpose of the frozen embryos transported on the Endurance?", "What would the gravitational theory of Plan A allow?", "What did Cooper give Murphy before he left?", "In the story, why was farming difficult on Earth in the 21st-century?", "What was Joseph Cooper's former occupation?", "What does Cooper interpret the dust pattern as?", "When did the wormhole appear near Saturn?", "What is Brand's plan A?", "What is plan B?", "Why did Mann falsify the data?", "How did Mann die?", "Where did the tesseract allow Cooper to peer into?", "Who was Murphy's ghost?" ]

[ [ "To use a gravitational propulsion system that would enable a mass exodus from Earth.", "A mass exodus theory using gravity and propulsion." ], [ "A former professor of Cooper's, now working with NASA.", "Cooper's former professor" ], [ "Edmunds'", "Cooper" ], [ "The Endurance.", "Endurance" ], [ "A giant tidal wave.", "A tidal wave." ], [ "That the planet is habitable.", "The planet is habitable" ], [ "He kills himself by attempting a dangerous manual docking maneuver with Endurance.", "He does." ], [ "His daughter Murphy.", "Murphy's ghost." ], [ "5,000 human embryos.", "5,000 frozen embryos" ], [ "5,000", "5000" ], [ "Cooper", "Cooper." ], [ "TARS and CASE", "TARS and CASE" ], [ "Humanity's survival", "That the human race would go on" ], [ "Mann", "Mann." ], [ "Only the wreckage", "The wreckage and data." ], [ "Gargantua", "Gargantua" ], [ "Colonize an inhabitable planet", "For Plan B to colonize the planet." ], [ "A propulsion allowing a mass exodus from Earth", "mass exodus from earth" ], [ " A second-hand watch", "A second hand watch." ], [ "There was a crop blight.", "Crop blight" ], [ "Cooper is a former NASA pilot.", "Space Pilot" ], [ "Geographic coordinates formed into binary code.", "geographic coordinates formed into bionary code" ], [ "48 years earlier", "48 years before 21st century era" ], [ "Mass evacuation of Earth using a gravitational propulsion theory.", "Plan B was the only plan,so it was really plan A." ], [ "Five thousand frozen embryos to colonize a habitable planet.", "Human embryos." ], [ "Mann wanted to be rescued.", "In hopes of being rescued" ], [ "Attempting a dangerous manual docking maneuver.", "While trying to manually dock a ranger." ], [ "Murphy's bedroom.", "Murphy's bedroom" ], [ "Cooper was Murphy's ghost.", "Cooper from the future." ] ]

[ [ "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "\n\tby a HULKING DOORMAN at the entrance.\n\n\t\t\t\tDOORMAN\n\t\tI'm sorry, sir -- do you have an \n\t\tinvitation?\n\n\tINT. BLACK PEARL - NIGHT\n\n\tCRASH! The front door flies open as the Doorman's body sails through.\n\tBlade enters, Karen at his heels -- \n\n\tThe 'Pearl' is an all-hours strip club cum casino catering\n\texclusively to Japanese zaibatsu clientele", "\n\tcordoned off by cyclone fencing and razor wire. Ultra-violet\n\tfloodlights illuminate the area, while an army of security cameras\n\tkeep a watchful eye. \n\n\tINT. BLADE'S OLDS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade glances at Karen, cursing himself for giving into his emotions.\n\tHe hits a remote secured to the sun visor --\n\n\tEXT. BLADE'S OLDS/ABANDONED FACTORY - NIGHT\n\n\tA gate grinds open.", "\n\n\tWe follow the Olds as it cruises around the back of the building,\n\theading down a concrete loading ramp. At the bottom of the ramp, a\n\theavy iron door rises. Blade's Olds disappears into the darkness.\n\n\tINT. ABANDONED FACTORY, INDUSTRIAL ELEVATOR - NIGHT\n\n\tMore UV lights flicker on. We're in a massive loading elevator which\n\tHUMS as it ascends, eventually reaching its destination with a\n\tBOOMING CLANG. The doors at", "him.\n\n\tWHIP PAN TO --\n\n\tSOMEONE sitting astride a motorcycle, watching Blade from the roof of\n\tan elevated parking garage. The rider is clad from head to toe in a\n\thelmet and black leather -- Mercury. \n\n\tEXT. ABANDONED FACTORY - DAY\n\n\tBlade's Olds cruises into the gated grounds. It zips down the ramp\n\tway into the loading elevator.\n\n\tBACK BY THE TRAIN TRACKS --\n\n\tMercury'", "ming into the rear wall so hard that plaster rains down from the\n\tceiling. \n\n\tBlade suddenly finds himself wrestling with a feral-faced six-foot-\n\tsomething nightmare named QUINN. The vampire rears back its head,\n\tjaws stretching wide. Every inch of his face is covered with ritual\n\tscarification patterns and Maori-like tribal tattoos. \n\n\tBlade forces an elbow against Quinn's throat, trying to keep him at\n\tbay. With his other hand he reaches to his bandoleer", "\n\n\tThe place has been trashed. It looks like a tornado touched down in\n\this absence. Blade pulls out one of his .454s, cautious --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWHISTLER?!\n\n\t-- and then he stops dead in his tracks.\n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\thas been strung up by his arms against the far wall, tortured and\n\tleft for dead. In response to Blade's voice, a MOAN escapes the dying\n\tman's lips.\n\n\t", "BLADE\n\t\tLooks like we hit pay-dirt. This place \n\t\tis crawling with them.\n\t\t\t(pointing)\n\t\tSee the valets over there? They're \n\t\tvampires. So is the doorman.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow can you tell?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThe way they move, they way they \n\t\tsmell --\n\n\tBlade continues to scan the area, pointing out a few more likely\n\tc", "moves into the light as time screeches to a halt -- \n\n\tA BLACK MAN, \n\n\ttowers above Dennis, wearing dark glasses and a leather longcoat -- a\n\tsneer of cruel contempt etched upon a face tempered by a lifetime of\n\thorror. His name is BLADE.\n\n\tBlade whips open his long coat, shrugging it off, revealing an\n\tarsenal of high-tech weapons strapped to his body: \n\n\t6-point adjustable body armor, a modified CAR", "a purple neon scroll above the entrance -- a FLASHING\n\tKANJI, just like the glyph tattooed on Tanaka's neck.\n\n\tTanaka's Mustang pulls into the parking lot. He climbs out, flagging\n\taway the valets, heads inside --\n\n\tWHIP PAN TO\n\n\tBlade's Olds stopping a few blocks down the street.\n\n\tINT. BLADE'S OLDS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade kills the engine, studying The Black Pearl.\n\n\t\t\t\t", "\tAfternoon, Blade.\n\n\tThe man lowers his newspaper. It's Deacon Frost. He's wearing\n\tsunglasses, but otherwise, he's seemingly unprotected by the sun. \n\n\tBlade reaches for his .454 -- \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tEasy.\n\n\tFrost's hand rests on the back of the girl's neck. We see his claws\n\textend, caressing the flesh beneath her chin.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t", ". An edge so\n\tsharp it could cleave a shadow in two.\n\n\tBlade moves like lightning, hacking his way into TWO CHARGING\n\tVAMPIRES. Blade spins again, cuts ANOTHER VAMPIRE clean in half --\n\n\tON THE FAR END OF THE CLUB,\n\n\ta LATEX-CLAD VAMP makes a break for it. Blade flings his sword,\n\tsending it spinning end over end -- THUNK! The sword punches into the\n\tvampire's heart. The", "parked nearby. Midnight-black. The definitive high-\n\tperformance heavy-metal muscle machine with an engine big enough to\n\tpower an Apollo rocket. \n\n\tINT. BLADE'S OLDS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade sets Karen down in the passenger seat, climbs behind the wheel,\n\tkeys the ignition. The engine ROARS to life, belching fumes through\n\tthe dual exhaust. Blade floors it, burning serious rubber as the Olds\n\tvanishes from sight. \n\n\tBACK AT THE DE", "\t\tWelcome home, children.\n\n\tEXT. THE BANK OF EREBUS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade and Karen are dragged from the back of the truck, which is\n\trevealed now to be an armored car. \n\n\tTHE BANK OF EREBUS\n\n\trises up before them. A towering beaux-arts edifice situated in the\n\theart of the city's high-priced financial district -- one of the many\n\tinstitutions owned and operated by the vampire enclave.\n\n\tFrost starts", "the rear glide open. Blade guides the\n\tOlds out.\n\n\tINT. ABANDONED FACTORY, WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tSet up in an old ironworks, the place looks like a cross between an\n\tauto junkyard and an armory. Equipment is strewn everywhere --\n\tlathes, mills, old furnaces, gutted vehicles, an ad hoc surgical\n\ttheater -- all of it jerry-rigged in a brutal, oily-tech.\n\n\tBlade clim", "-mounted spotlights orchestrates the tunes on\n\ttwin- decks. MUSIC assaults us -- a beat so heavy it could jar the\n\tfillings from your teeth. Brutal \"DARKCORE\" along the lines of\n\tProdigy or Underground. \n\n\tRaquel pulls Dennis out onto the dance floor. They sway. \n\n\tA lupine-featured GAULTIER GIRL with a streak of white running\n\tthrough her raven hair moves in behind Dennis, pressing up against\n\thim. Rachel Williams as", "ade points to a building across the street --\n\n\tTHE HOLLISTON CLINIC,\n\n\tyour basic inner-city blood-barter establishment where desperate\n\ttransients parley their plasma into cash.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(recognizing it)\n\t\tI know this place -- it's a blood \n\t\tbank. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tOwned by vampires. There's one of \n\t\tthese in every major city, and just \n\t\tlike Domino", "CUT TO:\n\n\tEXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade's Olds cruises to a stop. We're in a low-end commercial\n\tdistrict -- junky heaven. Blade climbs out, pulling an automatic\n\trifle from the back seat, then heading into an alleyway. \n\n\tEXT. BACK ALLEY - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade makes his way down the alley, cautious -- he SEES mountains of\n\ttrash, boarded-up windows, overlapping layers of gang graffiti", "ADE\n\t\tWhere's the entrance?!\n\n\t\t\t\tTANAKA\n\t\tI can't -- they'll kill me!\n\n\tBlade rips off his glasses and gives Tanaka an eyeful -- his irises\n\tpulse and glow. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI got news for you, butt-boy. You're \n\t\talready dead. \n\n\t\t\t\tTANAKA\n\t\t\t(terrified)\n\t\tOh God, shit -- behind the", "falters, his mind reeling. What he's seeing is incomprehensible\n\t-- his mother is dead. Yet, here she is in the flesh, reaching out to\n\thim and --\n\n\t-- flashing a mouthful of viper-like fangs! She SNARLS and strikes,\n\tbrutally raking her claws across Blade's face, knocking the sword\n\tfrom his grasp --\n\n\tA TRIO OF BLACK-CLAD VAMPIRES\n\n\tled by Mercury step from the shadows where they'd been waiting" ], [ "NIGHT\n\n\tMICROSCOPE POV\n\n\tof a slide-mounted blood smear stained with Wright stain (blue ink).\n\tWhat we see is a collection of donut-shaped pink things (red blood\n\tcells) intermingled with some small blue specks (platelets) and the\n\toccasional larger, light-blue blobs (white blood cells).\n\n\tKAREN JANSEN (20s), a fine-featured hematologist with a social life\n\tin suspended animation, sits back from the micro", "relaxes. She opens the door and steps aside, allowing\n\tGideon to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes, that was me, I'm Karen Jansen -- \n\n\tGideon smiles, takes a quick glance around the room, then studies\n\tKaren's face, the bandages on her neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tAre you all right?\n\t\t\t(off Karen's nod)\n\t\tI'm glad you called, Ms. Jansen, we've ", "of the blackened stump where Quinn's\n\tarm used to be, the ruined throat -- \n\n\t\t\t\tCURTIS\n\t\tWhat's his story?\n\n\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n\t\tParamedics said he was still screaming \n\t\twhen they found him. Looks like some \n\t\tjoker had stapled him to a wall.\n\n\t\t\t\tCURTIS\n\t\tPretty.\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. HOSPITAL, HEMATOLOGY LAB -", "\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIs he sick?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tCancer.\n\n\tKaren watches as Blade's blood flows into the vacutainer. She fills\n\tthe first, then inserts another. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou care about him, don't you? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWe've got a good arrangement, that's \n\t\tall. Whistler makes the weapons, I use \n", "\t\tLook at this blood smear -- \n\n\tCurtis takes a look for himself.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tThe red blood cells are biconvex, \n\t\twhich is theoretically impossible. \n\t\tThey're hypochromic, there's virtually \n\t\tno hemoglobin in them. \n\t\t\t(shaking her head)\n\t\tLook at the PMNs, they're binucleated, \n\t\tthey should be mononucleated.\n\n\t\t", "the other end.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHello? My name is Karen Jansen, I was \n\t\twith Curtis Webb at Mid-Town Hospital \n\t\tlast night -- that's right, I \n\t\twitnessed the attack --\n\t\t\t(listening)\n\t\t115 Aurora, apartment 3G. Yes, I'll \n\t\twait here. Please hurry.\n\n\tKaren hangs up the phone and turns -- \n\n\tA SHAFT OF BRIGHT SUN", "\n\t\tthis, Whistler will no doubt be \n\t\twinging his way to Heaven, thanks to \n\t\tyour capable hands. If it makes any \n\t\tdifference to you, he put up quite a \n\t\tfight.\n\n\tFrost touches a deep gash which runs across his cheek.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tNow, I'm sure you're wondering about \n\t\tMs. Jansen's well-being. She's alive \n\t\tand kicking -- \"ambulatory\",", "\t\tCURTIS\n\t\tWhat about the chemistry panel? \n\n\tKaren looks to Julie, who reaches for a computer print-out.\n\n\t\t\t\tJULIE\n\t\tBlood sugar level is three times the \n\t\tnorm, phosphorous and uric acid are \n\t\toff the scales.\n\t\t\t(shrugs)\n\t\tLike the woman said, impossible.\n\n\tKaren removes her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tCurtis,", "and the others are --\n\n\tTHIRTEEN SHADOW SILHOUETTES\n\n\tpermanently etched onto the rock's surface, just like the bombing\n\tvictims of Hiroshima. \n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY\n\n\tKaren stands at a lab table with Whistler, preparing a number of\n\tblood sample vials. They are surrounded by host of new medical\n\tequipment -- from centrifuges to genetic sequencers and beyond.\n\n", ", which doesn't go unnoticed by Karen.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tExcuse me.\n\n\tKaren turns, heading for the back of the workshop.\n\n\tINT. WORKSHOP - BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tKaren enters a dingy bathroom, turning on the overhead bulb. She\n\tstudies her reflection in the mirror above the sink, then grimaces as\n\tshe peels the dressing from her wound -- the wound is clearly\n\tinfected, gangrenous. \n\n\t\t", "\n\n\tBOOM! Entry doors swing open as PARAMEDICS wheel in a FEMALE BLEEDER,\n\tVANESSA (20s, black, nine months pregnant). She's deathly pale,\n\tspewing founts of blood from a savagely slashed throat -- \n\n\tA SHOCK-TRAUMA TEAM swarms over her, inserting a vacutainer into an\n\tartery to draw blood, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around her\n\tarm --\n\n\t\t\t\tNURSE #1", "serve as taps. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tUnder these conditions I can keep a \n\t\tdonor alive for years, producing \n\t\tanywhere from fifty to a hundred pints \n\t\tof blood.\n\t\t\t(admiring his charges)\n\t\tOf course, this is just a pilot \n\t\tprogram, really. Once the Tide comes, \n\t\twe'll need to expand production. So \n\t\tmany more mouths to feed -- \n\n\tKaren turns away, overwhelmed by rev", "scope, stumped. Next\n\tto her is JULIE WHITAKER, a cheerful chemtech. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou took this off a DOA?\n\n\tCurtis sits on a stool nearby, slowly nodding.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tThis isn't human blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tCURTIS\n\t\tThen what is it?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI don't know --\n\t\t\t(re: microscope)\n", "INT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tWhistler and Karen sit at a work table. Karen is looking at a blood\n\tsmear slide through a microscope. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAll right, let's start with the basics \n\t\t-- why do vampires need to drink \n\t\tblood?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tTheir own blood can't sustain \n\t\themoglobin. \n\n\t\t\t\tKARE", "turns now, his eyes falling on the medical equipment Karen\n\tbrought from the hospital. He moves to the refrigerator, removing a\n\tcanister labeled \"SODIUM CITRATE\". Then he draws his sword. We can\n\tpractically see the wheels turning within his mind --\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade stands before the open flames of one of the furnaces, heating\n\this sword in the fire. He withdraws it -- it's molten red.\n\n\tBlade turns, dousing the molten hot sword into the sod", "\n\n\tWhistler claps his hand on Karen's shoulder in approval, then limps\n\taway, quickly busying himself with another project. Blade moves to\n\tfollow, but Karen stops him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBefore you go, I'd like to take a \n\t\tsample of your blood.\n\n\tBlade grudgingly rolls up his sleeve. As Karen takes her sample,\n\tBlade looks to Whistler. The older man brings a handkerchief to his\n\tlips, coughing into it.", "\n\t\tWell, here we are, Doctor.\n\n\tA cigarette appears in Frost's hand. In the blink of an eye, the\n\tcigarette is lit, burning. The movements are so quick we barely have\n\ttime to register them. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy haven't you killed me yet? \n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tDeacon likes to play with his food \n\t\tbefore he eats it.\n\n\tFrost laughs. Karen tries to keep calm. The longer she", "\t\t\t(appraising her)\n\t\tMaybe not. I did some checking, she's \n\t\ta hematologist. Knowledge like that \n\t\tmight come in handy.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tIt's not worth the risk. We can't \n\t\ttrust her.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tBecause you're tainted. The venom's \n\t\tstill inside you. You could still ", "his fangs into Karen's carotid artery and\n\tstarts to nurse --\n\n\tBANG!!! A load of MAHOGANY buckshot chews into Quinn's side. He HOWLS\n\tin pain. Another load catches him full in the face. He drops Karen.\n\tShe falls to the floor -- \n\n\tKAREN'S POV\n\n\tThe sound of RUSHING BLOOD pounding through her skull. Everything\n\tspinning. She struggles to move, turns her head, finds herself eye to\n\teye with Curt", ")\n\t\tFortunately, I've found a way around \n\t\tthat particular obstacle. \n\n\tFrost moves to the end of the room. He pushes a button. With a HUM\n\tthe wall slides open, revealing something Karen wishes she'd never\n\tseen -- living blood banks.\n\n\tTHREE SEDATED HUMANS\n\n\thave been hooked up to IV feeds which replenish various nutrients as\n\ttheir blood is drained from them. Shunts have been implanted in their\n\tforearms which" ], [ "\n\tBlade's at a complete loss.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler, I can't.\n\n\tWhistler clutches at Blade's arm, his eyes burning with conviction.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYes you can. Now get on with it. \n\n\tAs much as he'd like to deny it, Blade knows that Whistler is right.\n\tHe pulls a stake from his bandoleer, hesitates.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n", "other. He balances the\n\trifle against his hip like an over-the-hill gunslinger and OPENS FIRE\n\ton the vampires.\n\n\tBlade rolls, snatching up a fragment of the parchment which has blown\n\tfree from the vault. Seconds later, he and Karen are fleeing after\n\tWhistler, retreating back through his newly created exit.\n\n\tINT. TUNNEL - NIGHT\n\n\tThe three of them find themselves ankle-deep in a flooded sewer\n\ttunnel running parallel to the arch", "\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tIf Blade hadn't brought you here, you \n\t\twould've wound up like him.\n\n\tKaren brings a hand to her bandaged neck, recalling the events of the\n\tprevious night. She looks to Blade.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy did you help me?\n\n\tBlade scowls, his gaze flickering to Whistler.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tStupidity.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n", "\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's unique, you know. A one in a \n\t\tbillion anomaly. He can withstand \n\t\tsunlight, garlic, even silver. But he \n\t\tstill has the Thirst. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat happens if he doesn't take the \n\t\tserum?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThe Thirst overcomes him, just like \n\t\tthe others. It's not something he", "\n\tlined with wrinkles and his hair has long since gone gray, we sense\n\the could kick the living shit out of any man half his age. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tShe's been bitten.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou should've killed her, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tShe hasn't turned yet. \n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tYou can help her.\n\n\tBlade and Whistler stare each other down. Finally,", ", moving from one city to \n\t\tthe next, tracking their migrations. \n\t\tThey're hard to kill. They tend to \n\t\tregenerate.\n\n\tCLACK! Blade pulls the trigger on an empty chamber, then checks his\n\tnext weapon --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(sarcastic)\n\t\tSo what do you use, then? A stake?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tSome of the old wives' tales are true \n", "running water \n\t\tdon't do dick, so forget what you've \n\t\tseen in the movies. \n\n\tBlade enumerates the following on his fingers:\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou use the stake, silver, or \n\t\tsunlight, got it? \n\n\tBlade holds up one of his Casulls. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tKnow how to use one of these?\n\n\tKaren takes the weapon from him, eyes all over it.\n\n\t\t", "\t\tWhistler, I --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(cutting him off, more gentle now)\n\t\tI know. \n\t\t\t(forcing a smile)\n\t\tJust be quick about it, will you? Do \n\t\tit right.\n\n\tBlade fights back tears. With a wretched moan, he turns his head and\n\tdrives the stake into Whistler's chest. Whistler GASPS. Blade wraps\n\this arms around the older man, holding him", "\t\t\t(re: Blade)\n\t\tThis is Blade. As for our little \n\t\thomunculus here --\n\n\tWhistler limps over to the tank, rapping his cane against it. The\n\tcreature snaps at it reflexively, following the silver tip back and\n\tforth like a fish after a lure.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t-- he's a vampire.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're joking --\n\n\t\t\t\tWH", "\n\n\tThe place has been trashed. It looks like a tornado touched down in\n\this absence. Blade pulls out one of his .454s, cautious --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWHISTLER?!\n\n\t-- and then he stops dead in his tracks.\n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\thas been strung up by his arms against the far wall, tortured and\n\tleft for dead. In response to Blade's voice, a MOAN escapes the dying\n\tman's lips.\n\n\t", "\t\tYou're one of them, aren't you?\n\n\tBlade turns away from Karen, filled with self-loathing. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNot quite. I'm a hybrid. Half-human, \n\t\thalf-vampire.\n\n\tOff Karen's surprised reaction, we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tThe loading elevator CLANGS to a stop. Blade throws the gate open.\n\tK", "aren helps him out. Now that they're safely back, the last of\n\tBlade's strength seems to dissipate. \n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\tis waiting for them, sitting at a workbench. \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWhat took you so long?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tDon't even start, old man.\n\n\tBlade throws his sword aside, then moves off into the shadows,\n\tdisappearing beyond the curtains. Karen looks to Whistler --\n\n", "\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tWhich is why you're here. We could use \n\t\tsomeone with your experience.\n\n\tA beat passes between them and Karen knows where she stands now. In\n\tfor a penny, in for a pound. Whistler reaches for Blade's sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThis used to be mine, you know. It's \n\t\tbeen passed down through the \n\t\tcenturies, from one hunter to the \n", "ability to blend in. \n\t\tChances are, you've encountered them \n\t\tand not even known it. On the subway, \n\t\tin a bar --\n\n\tBlade slings his CAR-15 onto his shoulder, impatient. He starts\n\ttowards the Olds, gesturing.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tGet in. You’re leaving.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWait.\n\n\tWhistler tosses a small metal canister to Karen.\n\n", "'s, they always deliver.\n\t\t\t(looking to Karen)\n\t\tYou telling me you're ready to walk \n\t\tthrough that door?\n\n\tKaren nods. Blade continues to stare at her, taking her measure --\n\tthere's a strength in this woman's eyes, she has the soul of a\n\tfighter -- and Blade recognizes it. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAll right, then, listen up, Vampire \n\t\tAnatomy 101. Crosses and", "Blade's\n\thead in a bubble of blood.\n\n\tBlade claws at the blood-bubble as if it were a solid object that he\n\tcould dislodge, but his fingers just pass through it!\n\n\tBACK TO VANESSA\n\n\tas she wraps a hand around Karen's throat, choking her.\n\n\tAs Karen struggles, she frees a hand, sliding it down to her hip\n\tpocket, digging something out -- Whistler's vampire mace canister!\n\n\tShe forces it up between them", ", resists --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tHold her. \n\n\tBlade forces Karen back. Whistler readies the syringe.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(reading her name tag)\n\t\t\"Dr. Karen Jansen\". Listen close, I'm \n\t\tgoing to inject you with an antidote \n\t\tmade from allium setivum -- garlic. \n\t\tThis is going to hurt. A lot. \n\n\tWhistler sinks the", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "pale, the whites of her eyes are streaked with red.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAny progress?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tSome. It's been slow --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't look so good. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm just tired, that's all. We've been \n\t\tup all night.\n\n\tBlade nods, not buying her explanation. He shoots a glance to\n\tWhistler", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy didn't you tell me the truth \n\t\tabout him?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWe weren't sure we could trust you.\n\n\tWhistler sighs, removing his glasses.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's mother was attacked by a \n\t\tvampire while she was pregnant. \n\t\tUltimately, she died, but her unborn \n\t\tchild lived. Unfortunately, he'd \n\t\tunder" ], [ "intended to unnerve Dragonetti, it succeeded, though the\n\tancient vampire would never admit it.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tWhat are you up to, Frost?\n\n\tFrost shuts the lid on his laptop, rising, drawing intimidatingly\n\tclose to Dragonetti.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST'S VOICE\n\t\tWouldn't you like to know, Old Fang?\n\n\tA beat as the young turk stares his elder down. Dragonetti is the\n\tfirst to lose", "essed alcoves housing the remains of the\n\tvampire ancients, set into the sanctuary walls like cells in a hive.\n\n\tDEACON FROST\n\n\tstands in the center of the chamber, allowing Vanessa to clothe him\n\tin ceremonial regalia -- gleaming, centuries-old armor. He pauses,\n\tkissing her hungrily.\n\n\tHaving finished suiting up, he turns to face the vampires who have\n\tbeen faithful to his cause -- Mercury, Quinn, a host of others. A\n\t", "\told vampire inhabiting the body of a prepubescent boy, interjects.\n\n\t\t\t\tPALLINTINE\n\t\tYou're out of line, Frost.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tAm I? Or am I just the first to say \n\t\tout loud what we've all been \n\t\tthinking? \n\n\tThe fact that no one answers is telling. Dragonetti glowers at the\n\tother Elders, sensing the tide turning.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n", "member will pour themselves a glass, or perhaps, help\n\tthemselves to the bowls of human finger bones which serve as snacks.\n\n\tAt the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire\n\t\"Overlord\". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-like\n\tfeatures. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile as a\n\tviper. \n\n\tDragonetti speaks. He uses the \"secret tongue\" -- the ancient vampire\n\tlanguage which utilizes consonants human", "\n\n\ta mere \"Underlord\" in the vampire hierarchy, steps forward.\n\tStrikingly handsome, younger, less conservative than his superiors,\n\tfueled with a passionate intensity. Amongst the vampire community\n\the's known as an agitator. He's also the vampire equivalent of a\n\tracial supremacist.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe Day Walker represents a unique \n\t\topportunity. We'd be fools to waste \n\t\tit by killing him. \n\n", "\tDragonetti slams his fist down, toppling a carafe, spilling blood\n\tacross the tabletop. Frost looks to the others --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy should we spend our lives \n\t\tcringing from the daylight when his \n\t\tblood offers us an alternative? \n\t\tEnough talk. It's time we stepped out \n\t\tof the shadows!\n\n\tDragonetti looks apoplectic. ELDER PALLINTINE, a five-hundred year-\n", "bus, seat of the vampire race's legislative assembly.\n\n\tGathered around a massive table are the TWELVE VAMPIRE ELDERS,\n\trepresenting a \"rainbow\" of racial colors -- names like PALLINTINE,\n\tVON ESPER, ASHE, BAVA. Two of them, the FAUSTINAS, are identical\n\ttwins -- lethal-looking women with alabaster skin. \n\n\tChilled carafes filled with blood are situated along the table. From\n\ttime to time, a", "but there's a desperation in his eyes now too. He speaks in\n\tthe secret tongue:\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(subtitled)\n\t\tDon't you see, you fools?! He'll \n\t\tbetray you too! He's planning on \n\t\tinvoking LaMagra himself!\n\n\tThe vampires just smile and shake their heads.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe wheel turns, old fang. Guess you \n\t\tjust got a little too", "\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(snarling)\n\t\tThe other elders will never let you \n\t\tget away with this!\n\n\tJust then, the TWELVE VAMPIRE ELDERS emerge behind Frost, forming a\n\tcircle around Dragonetti. All wear business suits, gloves, along with\n\thigh-tech \"sun masks\" to protect their faces from the light's lethal\n\trays. \n\n\tThey stare at Dragonetti like a silent jury. His face darkens, anger\n\trising --", "\tFrost stabs an accusing finger at the Overlord.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tSome withered up fossil ready to snap \n\t\tlike a brittle bone at the first sign \n\t\tof change?\n\n\tDragonetti GROWLS like an beast, raking his claws across the tyro\n\tvampire's face, knocking him to the ground. \n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tGet out!!!\n\n\tFrost picks himself up, touches the gashes on his cheek.", "in bike\n\thelmets and black leather, just like Frost. The intruders grip each\n\tof the Elders in a strangle hold, ripping their masks off. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDragonetti was right. You were fools \n\t\tto trust me.\n\n\tFrost flips down the visor of his helmet even as --\n\n\tTHE RED SUN\n\n\trises in all its fiery glory.\n\n\tOne by one, the vampire Elder's heads catch fire, skullflesh", "before him. Quinn cradles his amputated\n\tstump with his newly grown arm. \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tHe took my fucking hand! Again!\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou seem to be in the habit of losing \n\t\tthem fairly often, Quinn. Maybe the \n\t\tamputee lifestyle just suits you.\n\n\tThe other vampires laugh. Quinn stares them into silence. \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tWe need to find him, tonight.\n\n\t", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "hush settles upon them. There's an excitement in the air, a sense\n\tthat something remarkable is about to happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTonight is the night we've waited our \n\t\tentire lives for. Tonight, the \n\t\tblood-dimmed Tide is loosed upon the \n\t\tworld. Tonight, the Age of Man comes \n\t\tto an end. \n\n\tThe vampires bellow out a CHORUS OF CHEERS, their voices resonating\n\toff", "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "long in the \n\t\ttooth.\n\n\tDragonetti's cries are cut short as Frost forces the aging vampire's\n\tmouth open, ripping out his fangs with his bare hands. Dragonetti\n\tGURGLES and SHRIEKS, sounding like a dying animal.\n\n\tFrost turns to face the Twelve now, his eyes bright with victory. He\n\tpulls on his motorcycle helmet, as do Mercury and Quinn. \n\n\tBehind them, Dragonetti struggles furiously against his chains to no\n\tav", "up the marble steps towards a grand, triple-arched\n\tentrance flanked by Corinthian columns. Karen and Blade are dragged\n\talong after him. \n\n\tINT. BANK OF EREBUS - ATRIUM - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost leads his vampires into a high-ceilinged atrium, moving towards\n\ta bank of elevators -- one of the doors of which is outfitted with a\n\thigh-tech hand-key ID system.\n\n\tFrost places his palm on the ID screen. The screen GLOWS G", "falters, his mind reeling. What he's seeing is incomprehensible\n\t-- his mother is dead. Yet, here she is in the flesh, reaching out to\n\thim and --\n\n\t-- flashing a mouthful of viper-like fangs! She SNARLS and strikes,\n\tbrutally raking her claws across Blade's face, knocking the sword\n\tfrom his grasp --\n\n\tA TRIO OF BLACK-CLAD VAMPIRES\n\n\tled by Mercury step from the shadows where they'd been waiting", "BLADE\n\t\tLooks like we hit pay-dirt. This place \n\t\tis crawling with them.\n\t\t\t(pointing)\n\t\tSee the valets over there? They're \n\t\tvampires. So is the doorman.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow can you tell?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThe way they move, they way they \n\t\tsmell --\n\n\tBlade continues to scan the area, pointing out a few more likely\n\tc", "only one alternative to the \n\t\tserum.\n\n\tBlade nods. They both know what that \"alternative\" is. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYeah. I know.\n\n\tBlade closes the valise and tucks it inside his jacket. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThanks, Kam.\n\t\t\t(thinking)\n\t\tOne other thing. Have you ever heard \n\t\tof a vampire called the Sleeper?\n\n\tKam shakes his head. Bl" ], [ "s a familiar. A human who works for \n\t\tthe vampires. See this mark?\n\n\tBlade pushes aside Gideon's hair, revealing a tiny, cryptic symbol\n\ttattooed into the man's scalp.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThat's a glyph, kind of like a vampire \n\t\tcattle brand. That means Officer \n\t\tFriendly here is someone's property. \n\t\tAny of the other vampire's try to \n\t\tbleed him,", "member will pour themselves a glass, or perhaps, help\n\tthemselves to the bowls of human finger bones which serve as snacks.\n\n\tAt the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire\n\t\"Overlord\". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-like\n\tfeatures. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile as a\n\tviper. \n\n\tDragonetti speaks. He uses the \"secret tongue\" -- the ancient vampire\n\tlanguage which utilizes consonants human", "\tthemselves, then their masters will \n\t\tturn them. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAnd that's a good thing?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFor some. Live forever, never get old. \n\t\tThe ultimate high. \n\n\tJust then, Gideon MOANS. Blade drags the man up so they're eye to\n\teye.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHow 'bout you, Officer? You a good \n\t\tl", "\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFight him --\n\n\tAs if on cue, Frost appears at Vanessa's side, wrapping a proprietary\n\tarm about her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. She leans into him\n\t-- an act of practiced intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tShe can't. She's one of my thralls \n\t\tnow. She has about as much free will \n\t\tas a puppet on a string.\n\t\t\t(looking at Vanessa)", "BLADE\n\t\tLooks like we hit pay-dirt. This place \n\t\tis crawling with them.\n\t\t\t(pointing)\n\t\tSee the valets over there? They're \n\t\tvampires. So is the doorman.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow can you tell?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThe way they move, they way they \n\t\tsmell --\n\n\tBlade continues to scan the area, pointing out a few more likely\n\tc", "s from his chains, head slack, eyes half-lidded and\n\tlusterless. His skin has grown ashen as his life's blood has been\n\tbled away.\n\n\tMercury appears before him, accompanied by Quinn. She bends in close\n\tto kiss Blade lightly on the lips.\n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tIt won't be long now, lover. \n\n\tQuinn draws alongside her, hefting Blade's punching dagger. He places\n\tit against Blade's throat, slowly", "only one alternative to the \n\t\tserum.\n\n\tBlade nods. They both know what that \"alternative\" is. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYeah. I know.\n\n\tBlade closes the valise and tucks it inside his jacket. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThanks, Kam.\n\t\t\t(thinking)\n\t\tOne other thing. Have you ever heard \n\t\tof a vampire called the Sleeper?\n\n\tKam shakes his head. Bl", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "No --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIt's the only way. You know that. \n\t\tWe'll never get out of here alive if \n\t\tyou don't.\n\n\tBlade suppresses a shudder. Simply keeping himself from attacking her\n\ttakes every ounce of his resolve.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't -- I won't be able to stop --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes you will. The human side of you is \n\t\t", "\t\t\t(re: Blade)\n\t\tThis is Blade. As for our little \n\t\thomunculus here --\n\n\tWhistler limps over to the tank, rapping his cane against it. The\n\tcreature snaps at it reflexively, following the silver tip back and\n\tforth like a fish after a lure.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t-- he's a vampire.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're joking --\n\n\t\t\t\tWH", "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "t successfully make the \n\t\ttransition from human to vampire. \n\n\tFrost reaches out, caressing Karen's neck, puncturing the soft flesh\n\tbeneath her chin with a razored fingernail.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThey'll feed on anything, given the \n\t\tchance -- animals, corpses, even other \n\t\tvampires.\n\n\tFrost nods. Karen struggles against Quinn, but it's no good. In a\n\tmanner of seconds, she's falling --", "hellish creature convulses, dies.\n\n\tBeat. Blade retrieves his sword, then senses --\n\n\tSOMETHING BIG\n\n\trising up behind him. In a flash, Blade swings his sword downward,\n\tcutting off the vampire's right hand at the elbow. The severed limb\n\tfalls to the floor -- \n\n\t-- but it doesn't slow the hulking creature down. It SLAMS into\n\tBlade. Blade flies backwards thirty feet, tumbling over tables,\n\tslam", "the pit.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - BLEEDING CHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tWe are in a small, elevated antechamber which is situated above the\n\tmain vampire sanctuary.\n\n\tBLADE, \n\n\tnow weakened to the point of collapse, is being lashed to a rack-like\n\tdevice by iron chains. \n\n\tMercury and her cohorts move efficiently, quickly securing him. When\n\tthey are through, the rack is hoisted up into the air via a series of\n", "\n\n\ta mere \"Underlord\" in the vampire hierarchy, steps forward.\n\tStrikingly handsome, younger, less conservative than his superiors,\n\tfueled with a passionate intensity. Amongst the vampire community\n\the's known as an agitator. He's also the vampire equivalent of a\n\tracial supremacist.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe Day Walker represents a unique \n\t\topportunity. We'd be fools to waste \n\t\tit by killing him. \n\n", "\n\t\twoman on her way home alone. You were \n\t\tconceived the night I tore my fangs \n\t\tinto your mother's flesh. \n\n\tFrost swings his fist into Blade's skull. Everything goes black. \n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ARMORED TRUCK - NIGHT\n\n\tFADE IN as Blade opens his eyes, still groggy, his face beaded with\n\tsweat. Feverish. His hands have been bound tightly behind his back\n\twith manacles and", "itors and keyboards which have\n\tbeen affixed to counter-balanced arms -- this way, Pearl can access\n\tinformation without leaving bed.\n\n\tLying next to Pearl, dwarfed by the vampire's massive size, is the\n\tchalk-white body of a recently-drained NAKED BOY. \n\n\tAt the sight of Blade, Pearl's eyes widen in fear --\n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL\n\t\t\t(into a speakerphone)\n\t\tHe's here!\n\n\t\t\t\tF", "'s been doubled by the infusion of real blood. And there's\n\tsomething else in his gaze now too -- an animal fury that was missing\n\tbefore. Blade has taken one giant step closer to the darkness. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(hesitant)\n\t\tAre you -- all right?\n\n\tBlade pulls at the chains manacled to his wrists, SNAPPING them apart\n\tlike toys. He flexes his hands -- fingernails lengthening to tapered\n\tpoints. And he smiles", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThis is an old tongue, from an old \n\t\tworld. It concerns LaMagra.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWho is LaMagra?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe vampire God. This speaks of His \n\t\treturn.\n\n\tMiracia's fingers search the parchment again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\"-- there will come a Day Walker.\"\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t", "BLADE\n\t\tPass.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou sure now? I bled a newborn for \n\t\tthis. You won't find a drink that's \n\t\tsweeter. \n\n\tIt takes every ounce of Blade's self-control to keep from attacking\n\tFrost -- and Frost senses this, pressing his sharp thumbnail against\n\tthe child's jugular.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTell me honestly, do you really get \n\t\tthe same" ], [ "\tThis is sodium citrate. It's an \n\t\tanti-coagulant. We use it to treat \n\t\tblood-clots sometimes. Vampire blood \n\t\tis thinner than humans, though. Watch \n\t\twhat happens when I introduce some \n\t\tinto a sample --\n\n\tKaren gestures to the microscope. Blade takes a look --\n\n\tBLADE'S POV\n\n\tVampire blood cells swirling about.\n\n\tKaren injects the contents of the syringe onto", ", resists --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tHold her. \n\n\tBlade forces Karen back. Whistler readies the syringe.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(reading her name tag)\n\t\t\"Dr. Karen Jansen\". Listen close, I'm \n\t\tgoing to inject you with an antidote \n\t\tmade from allium setivum -- garlic. \n\t\tThis is going to hurt. A lot. \n\n\tWhistler sinks the", "the slide of cells --\n\tthe reaction is immediate. The vampire blood turns black, then begins\n\tviolently bubbling.\n\n\tBlade lifts his head away from the microscope just in time -- the\n\tblood on the slide atomizes, exploding outward in a fine mist which\n\tbursts apart the glass lens of the scope. \n\n\tWhistler laughs, thrilled with the results.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tCan you imagine what a dash of that \n\t\twould do on your sword? ", "\t\t-- they're severely allergic to \n\t\tsilver, various types of wood. Feed \n\t\tthem garlic and they'll go into \n\t\tanaphylactic shock -- \n\n\tWhistler picks up a customized rifle with a UV entry light, flicking\n\ton the beam.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t-- and of course there's always \n\t\tsunlight, ultra-violet rays. \n\n\tKaren shakes her head, incredulous -- \n\n\t\t", "turns now, his eyes falling on the medical equipment Karen\n\tbrought from the hospital. He moves to the refrigerator, removing a\n\tcanister labeled \"SODIUM CITRATE\". Then he draws his sword. We can\n\tpractically see the wheels turning within his mind --\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade stands before the open flames of one of the furnaces, heating\n\this sword in the fire. He withdraws it -- it's molten red.\n\n\tBlade turns, dousing the molten hot sword into the sod", "behind\n\tthem, SHATTERING and --\n\n\tFrost and Vanessa HOWL AS ONE, their SCREAMS rising to an unendurable\n\tintensity as the two vampires go nova, exploding into an expanding\n\tball of light and ATOMIZING BLOOD.\n\n\tBlade is thrown back off his feet, having to shield his eyes from the\n\tbacklash of occult energy as a near tidal WAVE of blood surges over\n\thim -- \n\n\tEXT. BANK OF EREBUS - CITY", ", coolant vapor hisses out. Inside are plastic bags\n\tcontaining blood. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tLooks like our friend was \n\t\tblood-running.\n\t\t\t(to Gideon)\n\t\tWhere were you headed?\n\n\tGideon mumbles through a split lip and chipped teeth --\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tMphuck you --\n\n\tWHAM! Blade plants Gideon's face into the hood of the car. Gideon\n\tGRO", "needle into Karen's neck and depresses the\n\tplunger. \"Hurt\" doesn't begin to describe what Karen experiences\n\tnext. Imagine undergoing childbirth while someone pumps battery acid\n\tthrough your veins.\n\n\tKaren SHRIEKS, her body going into uncontrolled paroxysms. The wound\n\ton her neck begins to smoke as the antidote attacks the poisonous\n\tvampire venom.\n\n\tKaren clutches at Blade's arms, digging her nails in. She stares up\n\tat", "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "\t\"His blood will call the Sleeper from \n\t\tbeyond the Veil of Tears.\"\n\n\tBlade stares at Miracia, shaken.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHis blood -- ?\n\n\tThe old woman nods, reaching for a smoldering cigarette.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe Day Walker's blood is a disparador \n\t\t-- a trigger, you see? For LaMagra's \n\t\treturn. One need only consume it and \n\t\tthe", "ics -- but the end result is little more than\n\tan annoyance. A second later, Gideon is simply blinking, sniffing his\n\tfingers, confused --\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tGarlic?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHe said it would work against \n\t\tvampires --\n\n\tGideon bursts out laughing.\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tWho said I was a vampire? \n\n\tGideon shakes his head, still snickering", "RES into the door handle of one of the\n\tunits, tears it open -- the fridge is stacked floor to ceiling with\n\tplastic packets of blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(to Karen)\n\t\tStill think we might be wrong?\n\t\t\t(to Tanaka)\n\t\tHow much are you shipping?\n\n\t\t\t\tTANAKA\n\t\tBite me!\n\n\tBlade opens FIRE, sweeping his rifle around the room, shooting\n\teverything in sight. Glass cabinetry shat", "ise. He opens it -- its lined with tiny\n\tampoules of scarlet-colored serum. Blade pulls one out, holds it up\n\tto the light.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler says I'm building up a \n\t\tresistance to it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tI was afraid that might happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMaybe it's time to start exploring \n\t\tother alternatives.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tThere's", ".\n\n\tQuinn responds with a slew of rapid-fire vampire invectives. Blade\n\tsees he's getting nowhere fast, calmly sheathes his sword. He unclips\n\ta white phosphorous grenade from his combat harness -- \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tYou won't stop him, Blade. The Tide's \n\t\trising, the Sleeper's gonna --\n\n\tBlade shoves the grenade in Quinn's mouth, pulls the pin. WHO", "with an antiseptic swab -- there's capillary damage\n\taround the perimeter of the wound, the tissue looks bruised,\n\tgangrenous. \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tLocalized necrosis. She's borderline. \n\t\tAnother hour and she'd be well into \n\t\tthe change.\n\n\tWhistler cracks open a smelling salt capsule and waves under Karen's\n\tnose. As she starts to stir --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n", "INT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tWhistler and Karen sit at a work table. Karen is looking at a blood\n\tsmear slide through a microscope. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAll right, let's start with the basics \n\t\t-- why do vampires need to drink \n\t\tblood?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tTheir own blood can't sustain \n\t\themoglobin. \n\n\t\t\t\tKARE", "\tDragonetti slams his fist down, toppling a carafe, spilling blood\n\tacross the tabletop. Frost looks to the others --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy should we spend our lives \n\t\tcringing from the daylight when his \n\t\tblood offers us an alternative? \n\t\tEnough talk. It's time we stepped out \n\t\tof the shadows!\n\n\tDragonetti looks apoplectic. ELDER PALLINTINE, a five-hundred year-\n", "his fangs into Karen's carotid artery and\n\tstarts to nurse --\n\n\tBANG!!! A load of MAHOGANY buckshot chews into Quinn's side. He HOWLS\n\tin pain. Another load catches him full in the face. He drops Karen.\n\tShe falls to the floor -- \n\n\tKAREN'S POV\n\n\tThe sound of RUSHING BLOOD pounding through her skull. Everything\n\tspinning. She struggles to move, turns her head, finds herself eye to\n\teye with Curt", "ium citrate\n\tcanister. The refrigerated liquid reacts with the heat, causing the\n\tsword to STEAM and HISS.\n\n\tWhen Blade withdraws the smoking sword, we SEE that the gleaming\n\tsteel has changed colors, taking on a bluish tinge, just like the\n\tsodium citrate it was immersed in. Blade smiles to himself,\n\tsatisfied.\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE, INNER CHAMBER - DAY\n", "\t\tCan you hear me, woman? \n\n\tKaren's eyes open wide. She's scared, disoriented --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat -- ?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou've been bitten by a vampire. We've \n\t\tgot to try and burn out the venom, \n\t\tjust like a rattlesnake bite --\n\n\tWhistler reaches for a massive syringe filled with caustic-looking\n\tfluid. Karen sees the syringe" ], [ ".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThis is an old tongue, from an old \n\t\tworld. It concerns LaMagra.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWho is LaMagra?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe vampire God. This speaks of His \n\t\treturn.\n\n\tMiracia's fingers search the parchment again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\"-- there will come a Day Walker.\"\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t", "\n\tbeneath Blade's feet. We follow the blood which has collected there\n\tas it flows into a crude drain and --\n\n\tINT. SANCTUARY - NIGHT \n\n\t-- emerges from the ceiling of the sanctuary below. The stream of\n\tblood is directed down the channels of a spiral column, where it\n\tfinally pools into a waiting chalice.\n\n\tPULL BACK TO REVEAL\n\n\tthe sanctuary in full. A large circular chamber, the perimeter of\n\twhich is lined with rec", "spirit of his ancestors will \n\t\tsettle upon him.\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t\t\"And the Sleeper will rise from the \n\t\tshadows anew, cleansing the world in a \n\t\tTide of Blood.\"\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(recalling the phrase)\n\t\t\"The Blood Tide\".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tYes. The vampire apocalypse. It is \n\t\tsaid", "\t\tchanging. Don't you see? The Sleeper \n\t\thas awakened. I'm not just Frost \n\t\tanymore. I'm becoming a god now, \n\t\tblood incarnate.\n\n\tEven as Frost utters the words, his body begins to ripple and morph,\n\tbleeding red, taking on the characteristics of liquid. He doesn't\n\twalk so much now as flow. He's become a three-dimensional creature of\n\tanimated blood! A blood demon.\n\n\tON", "\t\"His blood will call the Sleeper from \n\t\tbeyond the Veil of Tears.\"\n\n\tBlade stares at Miracia, shaken.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHis blood -- ?\n\n\tThe old woman nods, reaching for a smoldering cigarette.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe Day Walker's blood is a disparador \n\t\t-- a trigger, you see? For LaMagra's \n\t\treturn. One need only consume it and \n\t\tthe", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(whispering, urgent)\n\t\tBlade.\n\n\tBlade's eyes flicker open, fixing on her. Inhuman. He's shaking\n\tlike an alcoholic going into delirium tremens.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tVanessa hands Frost the chalice containing Blade's blood. He lifts it\n\tup for all to see. The vampires begin to chant en masse, some long-\n\tforgotten", "the pit.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - BLEEDING CHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tWe are in a small, elevated antechamber which is situated above the\n\tmain vampire sanctuary.\n\n\tBLADE, \n\n\tnow weakened to the point of collapse, is being lashed to a rack-like\n\tdevice by iron chains. \n\n\tMercury and her cohorts move efficiently, quickly securing him. When\n\tthey are through, the rack is hoisted up into the air via a series of\n", "member will pour themselves a glass, or perhaps, help\n\tthemselves to the bowls of human finger bones which serve as snacks.\n\n\tAt the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire\n\t\"Overlord\". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-like\n\tfeatures. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile as a\n\tviper. \n\n\tDragonetti speaks. He uses the \"secret tongue\" -- the ancient vampire\n\tlanguage which utilizes consonants human", "but there's a desperation in his eyes now too. He speaks in\n\tthe secret tongue:\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(subtitled)\n\t\tDon't you see, you fools?! He'll \n\t\tbetray you too! He's planning on \n\t\tinvoking LaMagra himself!\n\n\tThe vampires just smile and shake their heads.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe wheel turns, old fang. Guess you \n\t\tjust got a little too", "s from his chains, head slack, eyes half-lidded and\n\tlusterless. His skin has grown ashen as his life's blood has been\n\tbled away.\n\n\tMercury appears before him, accompanied by Quinn. She bends in close\n\tto kiss Blade lightly on the lips.\n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tIt won't be long now, lover. \n\n\tQuinn draws alongside her, hefting Blade's punching dagger. He places\n\tit against Blade's throat, slowly", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "\tDragonetti slams his fist down, toppling a carafe, spilling blood\n\tacross the tabletop. Frost looks to the others --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy should we spend our lives \n\t\tcringing from the daylight when his \n\t\tblood offers us an alternative? \n\t\tEnough talk. It's time we stepped out \n\t\tof the shadows!\n\n\tDragonetti looks apoplectic. ELDER PALLINTINE, a five-hundred year-\n", "invocation in the vampire tongue.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(grinning, to himself)\n\t\t\"And what rough beast, its hour come \n\t\tround at last, slouches towards \n\t\tBethlehem to be born?\"\n\n\tFrost lifts the chalice to his lips and begins to drink. \n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ANTECHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade tries to sit up, gripping Karen's wrist --\n\n\t\t\t\t", "behind\n\tthem, SHATTERING and --\n\n\tFrost and Vanessa HOWL AS ONE, their SCREAMS rising to an unendurable\n\tintensity as the two vampires go nova, exploding into an expanding\n\tball of light and ATOMIZING BLOOD.\n\n\tBlade is thrown back off his feet, having to shield his eyes from the\n\tbacklash of occult energy as a near tidal WAVE of blood surges over\n\thim -- \n\n\tEXT. BANK OF EREBUS - CITY", "essed alcoves housing the remains of the\n\tvampire ancients, set into the sanctuary walls like cells in a hive.\n\n\tDEACON FROST\n\n\tstands in the center of the chamber, allowing Vanessa to clothe him\n\tin ceremonial regalia -- gleaming, centuries-old armor. He pauses,\n\tkissing her hungrily.\n\n\tHaving finished suiting up, he turns to face the vampires who have\n\tbeen faithful to his cause -- Mercury, Quinn, a host of others. A\n\t", "'s a red blood cell, an erythrocyte,\n\tspinning in a river of plasma, roaring up Blade's femoral artery,\n\tracing towards the pumping chambers of his heart which beats like the\n\tdeafening breath of God, which blots all other sounds out of\n\texistence and we're --\n\n\tCUTTING BACK AND FORTH NOW\n\n\tbetween Frost's transformation and Blade's, each of them growing\n\tstronger by the second, caught in an ever-in", "hush settles upon them. There's an excitement in the air, a sense\n\tthat something remarkable is about to happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTonight is the night we've waited our \n\t\tentire lives for. Tonight, the \n\t\tblood-dimmed Tide is loosed upon the \n\t\tworld. Tonight, the Age of Man comes \n\t\tto an end. \n\n\tThe vampires bellow out a CHORUS OF CHEERS, their voices resonating\n\toff", "call it the Temple of \n\t\tNight.\n\n\tBlade and Karen are led to the middle of the room, where a stone\n\taltar rises up from a dais. Blade is roughly thrown to the ground. He\n\tkneels there, eyes cast downward. Broken. His system being assaulted\n\tby the devastating effects of the Thirst. \n\n\tQuinn and Mercury pick their way through Blade's discarded gear.\n\tQuinn picks up the punching dagger, admiring it. \n\n\tFrost", "stronger. I know it is.\n\n\tKaren matches Blade's gaze, steeling herself. The truth is, she's\n\tterrified. \n\n\tBlade stares back at her. At this moment, he wants what Karen is\n\toffering more than anything he's ever desired. And so he rises --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost continues drinking down the blood, when suddenly, a force\n\tseizes his body. He" ], [ "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro", "bus! \n\n\tBlade has a split-second to act. It's Frost or the girl -- and for a\n\tmoment we actually think he's going to go for Frost --\n\n\t-- but then he DIVES forward, scooping the girl into his arms,\n\tthrowing themselves out of the bus' path. The bus misses them by a\n\thair. By the time Blade looks up again --\n\n\t-- Frost is gone. Blade rises, cursing, scanning the street as\n\tmarket-goers gather around", "roof of a\n\tbuilding across the street. He hefts an air-launcher rifle up into\n\tfiring position --\n\n\tBANG! An iron spike trailing a steel cable rockets through the air\n\tbetween the two buildings, sinking into the concrete facade of\n\tFrost's penthouse. Blade secures his end of the rope. He slips a\n\tpulley over the rope, grabs hold of two handles, and leaps off the\n\troof ledge!\n\n\tWHOOSH! Blade slides towards Frost'", ")\n\t\tNow here you are in the heart of our \n\t\tarchives, terrorizing our curator.\n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL'S VOICE\n\t\tHe has a knife to my throat, Frost! \n\t\tHe --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(cutting him off)\n\t\tYou're history, Pearl. Have the good \n\t\tgrace to die with some dignity.\n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tRound one to you, Blade.\n\n\tINT. PE", ".\n\n\tFrost rises, taking the little girl by the hand. Blade follows, his\n\thand resting on the butt of his Casull.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou're not going anywhere.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(growling)\n\t\tWatch me.\n\n\tFrost's eyes flicker towards the street -- a CITY BUS is rumbling by.\n\tIn a heartbeat, Frost hurls the little girl forward --\n\n\t-- out into the path of the oncoming", "s penthouse, a good twenty stories\n\tabove street level. A second before he reaches the windows, Blade\n\tlets go. Momentum sends him CRASHING through in a shower of glass.\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tAn ALARM is ringing. Sunlight streams in through the broken window.\n\tTWO VAMPIRE GUARDS who have been caught in the sudden swath of light\n\tare burning up before our eyes. Blade climbs to his feet --\n\n\tA THIRD", "\n\tof insanity.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI was wrong about you, Blade. You were \n\t\tnever one of us. You're a traitor to \n\t\tyour race. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN (O.S.)\n\t\tGet away from him!\n\n\tFrost looks up -- Karen is wielding Blade's sword. She brings it down\n\ton Frost, severing the blood-tendrils which envelope Blade. The\n\tblood-bubble diss", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "VAMPIRE\n\n\tleaps at him. Blade spins, flipping the vampire over his shoulder,\n\tsending him straight through one of the other windows --\n\n\tEXT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tThe vampire tumbles earthward, SCREAMING as the sun's rays ignite his\n\tbody, falling like a human comet.\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tBlade unsheathes his sword and heads out into the hall --", "ROST'S VOICE\n\t\t\t(over speakerphone)\n\t\tCongratulations, Day-Walker.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFrost?\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE, POOL - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost paces the length of his pool, wearing a hands-free\n\tcommunications headset, grinning.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIn the flesh, Blade. I understand \n\t\tyou've been looking for me. I'm", "rost cocks his head to the side, studying Blade's face.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI don't blame you, though. I want you \n\t\tto know that. Even after all you've \n\t\tdone. I understand, Blade, I really \n\t\tdo. It's the human side of you which \n\t\thas corrupted your reasoning, made you \n\t\tweak. But we'll take care of that, \n\t\twon't we?\n\n\tBlade struggles to lift his", "Deacon?\n\n\tFROST\n\n\tstands with his back to us, his body trailing wisps of occult fumes.\n\tAs he slowly turns, we catch a glimpse of his eyes -- burning with an\n\tawesome, inner fire. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tNo longer.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE (O.S.)\n\t\tFrost!!!\n\n\tAll heads turn --\n\n\tBLADE \n\n\tstands at the balcony overhead, Karen at his side. He leaps from it", "\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI have a wake-up call for the human \n\t\trace. You're no longer at the top of \n\t\tthe food chain.\n\n\tEXT. SKYSCRAPER ROOFTOP - DAY\n\n\tBLADE'S POV\n\n\tA telephoto view of Frost's penthouse. The windows are polarized,\n\tblocking out the sun's harsh rays.\n\n\tBlade lowers a pair of binoculars. He's standing on the", "\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFight him --\n\n\tAs if on cue, Frost appears at Vanessa's side, wrapping a proprietary\n\tarm about her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. She leans into him\n\t-- an act of practiced intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tShe can't. She's one of my thralls \n\t\tnow. She has about as much free will \n\t\tas a puppet on a string.\n\t\t\t(looking at Vanessa)", "\t\tthen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't have a few minutes, Frost.\n\n\tFrost eyes Blade warily, then lunges towards Vanessa, sweeping behind\n\ther. Blade follows, but even as he raises his sword to strike, Frost\n\tspins Vanessa around, using her body as a shield!\n\n\tBlade hesitates, stopping the sword in mid-strike, catching his\n\tmother's gaze -- her face is monstrous now, scarred by Karen's\n\tpo", "\tFROST\n\t\t\t(gloating)\n\t\tYou're too human, Blade. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(steeling himself)\n\t\tIt's because I'm human that I can do \n\t\tthis.\n\n\tFrost's eyes widen in shock, but he has no time to react, for --\n\n\tBlade is already LUNGING forward, driving the sword-point through\n\tVanessa's chest, on into Frost's heart! It strikes the stone", "\t\tDid you think I'd forgotten you, you \n\t\tlittle whore?\n\n\tBACK TO FROST,\n\n\twho towers above Blade, swaying back and forth in his new, liquid-\n\tlike form.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou can't hurt me anymore. \n\n\tWHOOSH! Frost rises upwards on a spiraling column of blood, HOWLING\n\tWITH LAUGHTER, then just as suddenly --\n\n\t-- splashes back to earth, spreading out in", "ord hilt, nothing else.\n\n\tFrost's DEEP LAUGHTER drifts from the speakerphone.\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE, POOL - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost settles into his chair, enjoying the cat and mouse.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou're quick, Blade, I'll give you \n\t\tthat. In the space of an hour you've \n\t\tcrossed my familiar, destroyed a blood \n\t\tbank --\n\t\t\t(beat", "Wouldn't want our little friend here \n\t\tto wind up on the back of a milk \n\t\tcarton, would we? \n\n\tBlade reluctantly lowers his hand. Frost smiles. He takes in a deep\n\tbreath of air, savoring it. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tBeautiful day, isn't it? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(confused)\n\t\tHow can you be out here?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t", "his fist. Blade struggles to reach Frost,\n\tstretching a palsied hand upwards --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tPlease -- \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tListen to your father, Jason. It's \n\t\tgoing to be a better world.\n\n\tBlade stares at Vanessa uncomprehending. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDon't look so surprised, Blade. You've \n\t\tspent your life looking for the \n" ], [ "\tFROST\n\t\t\t(gloating)\n\t\tYou're too human, Blade. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(steeling himself)\n\t\tIt's because I'm human that I can do \n\t\tthis.\n\n\tFrost's eyes widen in shock, but he has no time to react, for --\n\n\tBlade is already LUNGING forward, driving the sword-point through\n\tVanessa's chest, on into Frost's heart! It strikes the stone", "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro", "\n\tof insanity.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI was wrong about you, Blade. You were \n\t\tnever one of us. You're a traitor to \n\t\tyour race. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN (O.S.)\n\t\tGet away from him!\n\n\tFrost looks up -- Karen is wielding Blade's sword. She brings it down\n\ton Frost, severing the blood-tendrils which envelope Blade. The\n\tblood-bubble diss", "bus! \n\n\tBlade has a split-second to act. It's Frost or the girl -- and for a\n\tmoment we actually think he's going to go for Frost --\n\n\t-- but then he DIVES forward, scooping the girl into his arms,\n\tthrowing themselves out of the bus' path. The bus misses them by a\n\thair. By the time Blade looks up again --\n\n\t-- Frost is gone. Blade rises, cursing, scanning the street as\n\tmarket-goers gather around", "A SHOWER OF BLOOD\n\n\trains from above, coalescing into Frost as he sweeps down on Blade\n\tlike a giant bird of prey, crushing him against the temple floor. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou want my blood so much?! Take it!\n\n\tFrost's arms elongate and liquefy, flowing into two snake-like spouts\n\tof blood -- the rest of Frost remains solid. The blood-spouts twist\n\taround Blade's neck, melding together, completely encasing", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "olves instantly, flowing away from Blade's face. He\n\tgasps, chokes in air --\n\n\tFrost backs away, horrified. His blood-tendrils don't reform.\n\tInstead, the lay where they fell, solidifying into crystalline\n\tpowder.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBlade!\n\n\tKaren flings the sword at Blade. \n\n\tTHE SWORD \n\n\tspins end over end, its mirrored surface reflecting coruscating\n\tpinwhe", "\t\tDid you think I'd forgotten you, you \n\t\tlittle whore?\n\n\tBACK TO FROST,\n\n\twho towers above Blade, swaying back and forth in his new, liquid-\n\tlike form.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou can't hurt me anymore. \n\n\tWHOOSH! Frost rises upwards on a spiraling column of blood, HOWLING\n\tWITH LAUGHTER, then just as suddenly --\n\n\t-- splashes back to earth, spreading out in", "-CHING-CLICK!- Blade and Karen have spent their bullets\n\tand --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST (O.S.)\n\t\tEnough!!!\n\n\tBlade turns to face --\n\n\tFROST, \n\n\twho's advancing, clutching Blade's own sword in his hand. He thrusts\n\tthe sword forward --\n\n\tBlade presses the grip-trigger on his punching dagger -CHING!- the\n\ttwo side blades spread out. We hear the RASP and C", "suddenly dissipates, SPLASHING away into a million\n\tzero-G blood bubbles, vanishing. Blade spins, unnerved, trying to\n\tpin-point his foe's next manifestation.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhere are you?!\n\n\tFrost's voice answers from all directions.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tEverywhere.\n\n\tA DROPLET OF BLOOD\n\n\tspatters the floor at Blade's feet. Blade looks up --\n\n\t", "Wouldn't want our little friend here \n\t\tto wind up on the back of a milk \n\t\tcarton, would we? \n\n\tBlade reluctantly lowers his hand. Frost smiles. He takes in a deep\n\tbreath of air, savoring it. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tBeautiful day, isn't it? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(confused)\n\t\tHow can you be out here?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t", ".\n\n\tFrost rises, taking the little girl by the hand. Blade follows, his\n\thand resting on the butt of his Casull.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou're not going anywhere.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(growling)\n\t\tWatch me.\n\n\tFrost's eyes flicker towards the street -- a CITY BUS is rumbling by.\n\tIn a heartbeat, Frost hurls the little girl forward --\n\n\t-- out into the path of the oncoming", "Blade thrusts his blackened sword forward, right\n\tthrough the vampire's chest. \n\n\tThe creature SHRIEKS and atomizes -FWOOSH!- flying apart in a fine-\n\tbeaded spray of blood mist. \n\n\tUp ahead are a set of steel doors with a time-lock mechanism. Blade\n\tdraws a Casull, BLASTS away at the lock, then shoulders the doors\n\topen --\n\n\tINT. FROST'S SLEEPING CHAMBER - DAY\n\n\tWe are in a", "els of candlelight as Blade catches the weapon by its hilt.\n\n\tBlade rises, advancing on Frost, sword outstretched and Frost\n\tretreats, uncertain now.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tGuess you're not quite as invulnerable \n\t\tas you thought.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou're wrong -- a few minutes more, and \n\t\tmy transition will be complete. Even \n\t\tyour sword won't be able to affect me \n", "VAMPIRE\n\n\tleaps at him. Blade spins, flipping the vampire over his shoulder,\n\tsending him straight through one of the other windows --\n\n\tEXT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tThe vampire tumbles earthward, SCREAMING as the sun's rays ignite his\n\tbody, falling like a human comet.\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tBlade unsheathes his sword and heads out into the hall --", "\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFight him --\n\n\tAs if on cue, Frost appears at Vanessa's side, wrapping a proprietary\n\tarm about her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. She leans into him\n\t-- an act of practiced intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tShe can't. She's one of my thralls \n\t\tnow. She has about as much free will \n\t\tas a puppet on a string.\n\t\t\t(looking at Vanessa)", "\t\tthen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't have a few minutes, Frost.\n\n\tFrost eyes Blade warily, then lunges towards Vanessa, sweeping behind\n\ther. Blade follows, but even as he raises his sword to strike, Frost\n\tspins Vanessa around, using her body as a shield!\n\n\tBlade hesitates, stopping the sword in mid-strike, catching his\n\tmother's gaze -- her face is monstrous now, scarred by Karen's\n\tpo", "his fist. Blade struggles to reach Frost,\n\tstretching a palsied hand upwards --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tPlease -- \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tListen to your father, Jason. It's \n\t\tgoing to be a better world.\n\n\tBlade stares at Vanessa uncomprehending. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDon't look so surprised, Blade. You've \n\t\tspent your life looking for the \n", "\n\t\tYou love me, don't you, Vanessa? \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tFrost kisses Vanessa hungrily. Then he kneels and reaches into\n\tBlade's jacket, retrieving a vial of Blade's serum.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhat do we have here? Your precious \n\t\tserum? I don't think you'll be needing \n\t\tthis anymore.\n\n\tFrost crushes the vial in", "Blade's shoulder, the sword-edge\n\tbiting deep into the flesh. Blade SCREAMS. Frost withdraws the sword\n\tfor another strike --\n\n\t-- until Blade sees an opening and takes it, slicing Frost's left arm\n\toff at the shoulder --\n\n\tThe severed arm releases Blade's sword, but the arm doesn't fall! To\n\tFrost and Blade's mutual surprise the arm floats in mid-air, bleeding\n\tred, quivering like zero-G liquid, then SLURP" ], [ "relaxes. She opens the door and steps aside, allowing\n\tGideon to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes, that was me, I'm Karen Jansen -- \n\n\tGideon smiles, takes a quick glance around the room, then studies\n\tKaren's face, the bandages on her neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tAre you all right?\n\t\t\t(off Karen's nod)\n\t\tI'm glad you called, Ms. Jansen, we've ", "the other end.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHello? My name is Karen Jansen, I was \n\t\twith Curtis Webb at Mid-Town Hospital \n\t\tlast night -- that's right, I \n\t\twitnessed the attack --\n\t\t\t(listening)\n\t\t115 Aurora, apartment 3G. Yes, I'll \n\t\twait here. Please hurry.\n\n\tKaren hangs up the phone and turns -- \n\n\tA SHAFT OF BRIGHT SUN", "\n\t\tthis, Whistler will no doubt be \n\t\twinging his way to Heaven, thanks to \n\t\tyour capable hands. If it makes any \n\t\tdifference to you, he put up quite a \n\t\tfight.\n\n\tFrost touches a deep gash which runs across his cheek.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tNow, I'm sure you're wondering about \n\t\tMs. Jansen's well-being. She's alive \n\t\tand kicking -- \"ambulatory\",", "through the peephole,\n\tcautious --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWho is it? \n\n\tKAREN'S POV (FISH-EYE)\n\n\tA POLICE OFFICER stands in the hallway -- 30s, handsome, a knight in\n\tshining armor as far as she's concerned. \n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tSergeant Gideon. I'm responding to a \n\t\t911 call. \n\n\tKaren visibly", "\n\tSparse decor in a Neo-Japanese vein. Minimalist lighting. The walls\n\tare glass. Recirculating pumps send a constant stream of water\n\tcascading down them.\n\n\tKaren is escorted into the room by Mercury. She gestures to a chair\n\tat the end of a long table. Karen sits. \n\n\tFROST \n\n\tleans forward out of the shadows, resting his elbows on the table,\n\thands steepled together. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST", ", which doesn't go unnoticed by Karen.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tExcuse me.\n\n\tKaren turns, heading for the back of the workshop.\n\n\tINT. WORKSHOP - BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tKaren enters a dingy bathroom, turning on the overhead bulb. She\n\tstudies her reflection in the mirror above the sink, then grimaces as\n\tshe peels the dressing from her wound -- the wound is clearly\n\tinfected, gangrenous. \n\n\t\t", "ulsion. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're a monster.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy? Because we live at another \n\t\tspecies' expense? Your people farm \n\t\tcattle and veal, don't they? Fattening \n\t\tthem up with steroids? It's called \n\t\tevolution, Doctor. Survival of the \n\t\tfittest. \n\n\tFrost stares at Karen with an intense, uncompromising gaze. \n", "keeps them\n\ttalking, the longer she remains alive.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow many of you are there?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tA few thousand scattered about the \n\t\tglobe. In the past, we've had to \n\t\trestrict our numbers for fear of \n\t\tdiscovery. That won't be necessary \n\t\tafter tonight. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat happens then?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe Blood", "NIGHT\n\n\tMICROSCOPE POV\n\n\tof a slide-mounted blood smear stained with Wright stain (blue ink).\n\tWhat we see is a collection of donut-shaped pink things (red blood\n\tcells) intermingled with some small blue specks (platelets) and the\n\toccasional larger, light-blue blobs (white blood cells).\n\n\tKAREN JANSEN (20s), a fine-featured hematologist with a social life\n\tin suspended animation, sits back from the micro", "in her surroundings -- She's in a spartan room,\n\tlike a monk's cell. On the wall is a collection of knives and\n\tdaggers. Some of them wooden, their hilts inscribed with bizarre-\n\tlooking runes. In the center of these weapons rests --\n\n\tBLADE'S SWORD,\n\n\thanging like a cross in a chapel, dominating all else. Karen touches\n\tit. Then her eyes drop to a silver locket which dangles from the hilt\n\tby a tarnished", "\trelief, shakes her head.\n\n\tINT. KAREN'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n\tKaren enters quickly, bolting the door behind her. She picks up the\n\tphone, dials 911 --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI need the police. This is an \n\t\temergency --\n\n\tAs Karen waits to be connected, she moves to the back entrance and\n\tchecks the locks -- then the windows, then the fire escape --\n\tfinally, a VOICE comes on", "it's three in the morning. I'm \n\t\treally not in the mood for one of your \n\t\tpractical jokes.\n\n\t\t\t\tCURTIS\n\t\t\t(insistent)\n\t\tIt's not a joke. I've got the stiff \n\t\tsitting in the morgue right now -- \n\t\tlook, just come up and see him, okay? \n\t\tFive minutes, that's all I ask.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI thought you promised to", "\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ANTECHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade moans, sinking his teeth deeper. Karen's head rolls back. Her\n\teyes open -- glassy, unseeing -- as a wave of ecstasy overtakes her. \n\n\tShe shudders, her breath quickening, falling into a synchronous\n\trhythm with Blade's. Her fingers dig deep into his back, clawing\n\tdownward, tearing into him -- \n\n\tShe's not Karen anymore -- she", "to keep it from spilling over \n\t\tonto the streets. \n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tSometimes people like yourself get \n\t\tcaught in the cross-fire. \n\n\tWhistler shrugs. As far as he's concerned, there's nothing else to\n\tsay. Karen is still protesting, though. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI can go to the police. I have blood \n\t\tsamples back at the hospital. I can \n\t\tshow them. \n\n\t\t\t", "give me some \n\t\tdistance?\n\n\t\t\t\tCURTIS\n\t\tThis is purely professional curiosity, \n\t\tKaren, I swear.\n\n\tKaren rolls her eyes, lets loose a tired sigh.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tFive minutes, not a second more. And I \n\t\tdon't want to hear a word about \"us\".\n\n\t\t\t\tCURTIS\n\t\tNo problem.\n\n\tINT. HOSPITAL MORGUE - NIGHT\n\n\tThe dead of", "\n\t\tbeen anxious to get a hold of you. You \n\t\tdisappeared on us for a while. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI know. Listen -- do you have any idea \n\t\twhat happened to Curtis, the other \n\t\tdoctor?\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\t\t(matter of fact)\n\t\tOh, he's dead. But I wouldn't worry \n\t\tabout that if I were you.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t", "\n\t\talternate arrangements for you.\n\n\tFrost motions and Quinn drags Karen towards --\n\n\tTHE MOUTH OF A PIT\n\n\tsome forty feet deep, its lichen-encrusted stone walls worn smooth\n\tover time. As Frost gestures to the yawning darkness beneath them,\n\tQuinn forces Karen towards the edge. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWe call this the Bone Pit. It's where \n\t\twe keep our mistakes, the ones who \n\t\tcouldn'", "and the others are --\n\n\tTHIRTEEN SHADOW SILHOUETTES\n\n\tpermanently etched onto the rock's surface, just like the bombing\n\tvictims of Hiroshima. \n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY\n\n\tKaren stands at a lab table with Whistler, preparing a number of\n\tblood sample vials. They are surrounded by host of new medical\n\tequipment -- from centrifuges to genetic sequencers and beyond.\n\n", "TWO MEN duck in alongside her. \n\n\tINT. ELEVATOR - DAY\n\n\tSilence, the uncomfortableness of an elevator ride magnified tenfold.\n\tKaren can FEEL the eyes of her fellow passengers upon her. Finally\n\tsuccumbing to paranoia, she hazards a glance -- would she be able to\n\ttell if these people weren't human? The woman turns to Karen,\n\tsmiles --\n\n\tKaren surreptitiously fishes the \"vampire mace\" from her pocket,\n", "\n\t\tWell, here we are, Doctor.\n\n\tA cigarette appears in Frost's hand. In the blink of an eye, the\n\tcigarette is lit, burning. The movements are so quick we barely have\n\ttime to register them. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy haven't you killed me yet? \n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tDeacon likes to play with his food \n\t\tbefore he eats it.\n\n\tFrost laughs. Karen tries to keep calm. The longer she" ], [ "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro", "\tFROST\n\t\t\t(gloating)\n\t\tYou're too human, Blade. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(steeling himself)\n\t\tIt's because I'm human that I can do \n\t\tthis.\n\n\tFrost's eyes widen in shock, but he has no time to react, for --\n\n\tBlade is already LUNGING forward, driving the sword-point through\n\tVanessa's chest, on into Frost's heart! It strikes the stone", "\n\tof insanity.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI was wrong about you, Blade. You were \n\t\tnever one of us. You're a traitor to \n\t\tyour race. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN (O.S.)\n\t\tGet away from him!\n\n\tFrost looks up -- Karen is wielding Blade's sword. She brings it down\n\ton Frost, severing the blood-tendrils which envelope Blade. The\n\tblood-bubble diss", "\n\t\tYou love me, don't you, Vanessa? \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tFrost kisses Vanessa hungrily. Then he kneels and reaches into\n\tBlade's jacket, retrieving a vial of Blade's serum.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhat do we have here? Your precious \n\t\tserum? I don't think you'll be needing \n\t\tthis anymore.\n\n\tFrost crushes the vial in", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "A SHOWER OF BLOOD\n\n\trains from above, coalescing into Frost as he sweeps down on Blade\n\tlike a giant bird of prey, crushing him against the temple floor. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou want my blood so much?! Take it!\n\n\tFrost's arms elongate and liquefy, flowing into two snake-like spouts\n\tof blood -- the rest of Frost remains solid. The blood-spouts twist\n\taround Blade's neck, melding together, completely encasing", "BLADE\n\t\tPass.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou sure now? I bled a newborn for \n\t\tthis. You won't find a drink that's \n\t\tsweeter. \n\n\tIt takes every ounce of Blade's self-control to keep from attacking\n\tFrost -- and Frost senses this, pressing his sharp thumbnail against\n\tthe child's jugular.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTell me honestly, do you really get \n\t\tthe same", ".\n\n\tFrost rises, taking the little girl by the hand. Blade follows, his\n\thand resting on the butt of his Casull.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou're not going anywhere.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(growling)\n\t\tWatch me.\n\n\tFrost's eyes flicker towards the street -- a CITY BUS is rumbling by.\n\tIn a heartbeat, Frost hurls the little girl forward --\n\n\t-- out into the path of the oncoming", ", triggering a jet of TOXIC MIST into\n\tVanessa's face --\n\n\tVanessa recoils, HOWLING, her head smoking as if it were doused with\n\tformic acid, skin sloughing off from her skull. Karen lunges for\n\tBlade's sword --\n\n\tBACK TO FROST AND BLADE\n\n\tBlade is drowning in Frost's blood. His eyes bulge. Oxygen bubbles\n\tstream from his mouth. Frost leans in close, his face a twisted mask", "acon Frost?\n\n\tQuinn glares, trying to speak, gagging on the stake still lodged in\n\this trachea --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tGot something in your throat.\n\n\tBlade yanks the stake free. The vampire laughs, air whistling through\n\this ruined larynx. \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tFuck you, Day-walker, I ain't saying \n\t\tshit --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFrost", "Wouldn't want our little friend here \n\t\tto wind up on the back of a milk \n\t\tcarton, would we? \n\n\tBlade reluctantly lowers his hand. Frost smiles. He takes in a deep\n\tbreath of air, savoring it. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tBeautiful day, isn't it? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(confused)\n\t\tHow can you be out here?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t", "rush from that pasteurized \n\t\tpiss-serum of yours?\n\t\t\t(off Blade's look)\n\t\tYou're surprised I know about your \n\t\tserum? You shouldn't be. I know \n\t\teverything about you. \n\n\tFrost leans forward, grinning.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou can't keep walking the razor's \n\t\tedge, Blade. The day will come -- and \n\t\tsoon, when you'll have", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "olves instantly, flowing away from Blade's face. He\n\tgasps, chokes in air --\n\n\tFrost backs away, horrified. His blood-tendrils don't reform.\n\tInstead, the lay where they fell, solidifying into crystalline\n\tpowder.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBlade!\n\n\tKaren flings the sword at Blade. \n\n\tTHE SWORD \n\n\tspins end over end, its mirrored surface reflecting coruscating\n\tpinwhe", "his fist. Blade struggles to reach Frost,\n\tstretching a palsied hand upwards --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tPlease -- \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tListen to your father, Jason. It's \n\t\tgoing to be a better world.\n\n\tBlade stares at Vanessa uncomprehending. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDon't look so surprised, Blade. You've \n\t\tspent your life looking for the \n", "\t\tDid you think I'd forgotten you, you \n\t\tlittle whore?\n\n\tBACK TO FROST,\n\n\twho towers above Blade, swaying back and forth in his new, liquid-\n\tlike form.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou can't hurt me anymore. \n\n\tWHOOSH! Frost rises upwards on a spiraling column of blood, HOWLING\n\tWITH LAUGHTER, then just as suddenly --\n\n\t-- splashes back to earth, spreading out in", "els of candlelight as Blade catches the weapon by its hilt.\n\n\tBlade rises, advancing on Frost, sword outstretched and Frost\n\tretreats, uncertain now.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tGuess you're not quite as invulnerable \n\t\tas you thought.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou're wrong -- a few minutes more, and \n\t\tmy transition will be complete. Even \n\t\tyour sword won't be able to affect me \n", "rost cocks his head to the side, studying Blade's face.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI don't blame you, though. I want you \n\t\tto know that. Even after all you've \n\t\tdone. I understand, Blade, I really \n\t\tdo. It's the human side of you which \n\t\thas corrupted your reasoning, made you \n\t\tweak. But we'll take care of that, \n\t\twon't we?\n\n\tBlade struggles to lift his", "head, forcing himself to match Frost's\n\tgaze, shaking with hatred.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI'd kill myself -- before I turned \n\t\tinto something like you.\n\n\tFrost just smiles and shakes his head.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tNo you wouldn't. I'm going to bleed \n\t\tyou dry, Blade. All the poison that \n\t\tmakes you human. \n\t\t\t(drawing closer)\n\t\tWhen the Tide comes", "\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFight him --\n\n\tAs if on cue, Frost appears at Vanessa's side, wrapping a proprietary\n\tarm about her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. She leans into him\n\t-- an act of practiced intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tShe can't. She's one of my thralls \n\t\tnow. She has about as much free will \n\t\tas a puppet on a string.\n\t\t\t(looking at Vanessa)" ], [ "hiss open -- \n\n\tINT. THE VAMPIRE ARCHIVES, HALLWAY - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade and Karen enter the narrow, maze-like \"stacks\" of the vampire\n\tarchives, weaving their way through shelves of climate-controlled,\n\tdigitized records. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat is this place?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tSome kind of archive --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIsn't this all a little", "Blade and Karen SEE a lucite-encased document -- fragments of an\n\tancient, calligraphied papyrus. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat are these?\n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN (o.s.)\n\t\tCuriosity killed the cat.\n\n\tBlade and Karen spin --\n\n\t-- QUINN,\n\n\tMercury, and a number of other vampires stand at the entrance to the\n\tvault.\n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\t\t(gr", ")\n\t\tNow here you are in the heart of our \n\t\tarchives, terrorizing our curator.\n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL'S VOICE\n\t\tHe has a knife to my throat, Frost! \n\t\tHe --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(cutting him off)\n\t\tYou're history, Pearl. Have the good \n\t\tgrace to die with some dignity.\n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tRound one to you, Blade.\n\n\tINT. PE", "other. He balances the\n\trifle against his hip like an over-the-hill gunslinger and OPENS FIRE\n\ton the vampires.\n\n\tBlade rolls, snatching up a fragment of the parchment which has blown\n\tfree from the vault. Seconds later, he and Karen are fleeing after\n\tWhistler, retreating back through his newly created exit.\n\n\tINT. TUNNEL - NIGHT\n\n\tThe three of them find themselves ankle-deep in a flooded sewer\n\ttunnel running parallel to the arch", "\n\tbeneath Blade's feet. We follow the blood which has collected there\n\tas it flows into a crude drain and --\n\n\tINT. SANCTUARY - NIGHT \n\n\t-- emerges from the ceiling of the sanctuary below. The stream of\n\tblood is directed down the channels of a spiral column, where it\n\tfinally pools into a waiting chalice.\n\n\tPULL BACK TO REVEAL\n\n\tthe sanctuary in full. A large circular chamber, the perimeter of\n\twhich is lined with rec", "\t\tYou're one of them, aren't you?\n\n\tBlade turns away from Karen, filled with self-loathing. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNot quite. I'm a hybrid. Half-human, \n\t\thalf-vampire.\n\n\tOff Karen's surprised reaction, we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tThe loading elevator CLANGS to a stop. Blade throws the gate open.\n\tK", "him.\n\n\tWHIP PAN TO --\n\n\tSOMEONE sitting astride a motorcycle, watching Blade from the roof of\n\tan elevated parking garage. The rider is clad from head to toe in a\n\thelmet and black leather -- Mercury. \n\n\tEXT. ABANDONED FACTORY - DAY\n\n\tBlade's Olds cruises into the gated grounds. It zips down the ramp\n\tway into the loading elevator.\n\n\tBACK BY THE TRAIN TRACKS --\n\n\tMercury'", "chain. She reaches for it, opens it --\n\n\tThe locket features a photo, old and faded. It's the black woman we\n\tsaw in the prologue, Vanessa, standing in the sunshine. \n\n\tKaren moves towards the door, cautious -- \n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY\n\n\tWe hear VOICES now, coming from beyond a series of black-out\n\tcurtains. Karen pushes one aside and SEES --\n\n\tBLADE\n\n\tstrapped", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "itors and keyboards which have\n\tbeen affixed to counter-balanced arms -- this way, Pearl can access\n\tinformation without leaving bed.\n\n\tLying next to Pearl, dwarfed by the vampire's massive size, is the\n\tchalk-white body of a recently-drained NAKED BOY. \n\n\tAt the sight of Blade, Pearl's eyes widen in fear --\n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL\n\t\t\t(into a speakerphone)\n\t\tHe's here!\n\n\t\t\t\tF", "Blade thrusts his blackened sword forward, right\n\tthrough the vampire's chest. \n\n\tThe creature SHRIEKS and atomizes -FWOOSH!- flying apart in a fine-\n\tbeaded spray of blood mist. \n\n\tUp ahead are a set of steel doors with a time-lock mechanism. Blade\n\tdraws a Casull, BLASTS away at the lock, then shoulders the doors\n\topen --\n\n\tINT. FROST'S SLEEPING CHAMBER - DAY\n\n\tWe are in a", "bookcase --\n\n\tBlade drops Tanaka, moves to the bookcase. He searches the wall a\n\tmoment, then finds a trigger. Hits it -- the bookcase slides aside,\n\trevealing a hidden elevator. As Blade moves to put his sunglasses\n\tback on --\n\n\tBLADE'S POV (IN THE REFLECTION OF HIS SUNGLASSES)\n\n\tWe see Tanaka behind him, pulling a handgun out of a desk drawer,\n\tswinging it up --\n\n\tBlade unhol", "\tpaper walls.\n\n\tThe shadow speaks in a tremulous, bird-like voice -- the secret\n\ttongue. As Blade draws his sword, the massive shadow freezes --\n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL'S VOICE\n\t\t\t(frightened)\n\t\tLorca, is that you?\n\n\tBlade slides open the nearest shoji screen --\n\n\tINT. PEARL'S BED CHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tNothing Karen's seen up until this point could prepare her for the\n\tarchive's", "'s, they always deliver.\n\t\t\t(looking to Karen)\n\t\tYou telling me you're ready to walk \n\t\tthrough that door?\n\n\tKaren nods. Blade continues to stare at her, taking her measure --\n\tthere's a strength in this woman's eyes, she has the soul of a\n\tfighter -- and Blade recognizes it. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAll right, then, listen up, Vampire \n\t\tAnatomy 101. Crosses and", "As Quinn reaches over with his other hand to\n\tpull out the stake --\n\n\tBlade FIRES AGAIN. A second bolt slams into Quinn's other arm,\n\teffectively pinning him like a butterfly to a board.\n\n\tUP ABOVE, \n\n\tmounted in one of the corners, is a security camera. Blade fires a\n\tcross-bow bolt straight into the lens. \n\n\tBlade strides over, placing his sword against Quinn's chest.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhere is De", "\n\n\tWe follow the Olds as it cruises around the back of the building,\n\theading down a concrete loading ramp. At the bottom of the ramp, a\n\theavy iron door rises. Blade's Olds disappears into the darkness.\n\n\tINT. ABANDONED FACTORY, INDUSTRIAL ELEVATOR - NIGHT\n\n\tMore UV lights flicker on. We're in a massive loading elevator which\n\tHUMS as it ascends, eventually reaching its destination with a\n\tBOOMING CLANG. The doors at", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhere's the original, Pearl? You must \n\t\thave it around here somewhere.\n\n\tPearl sweats blood, his flaking, slug-like lips quivering. \n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL\n\t\tThe vault --\n\n\tBlade follows Pearl's eyes to an armored door, then he stands back,\n\thanding the UV rig to Karen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tIf he moves, cook him.\n\n\tBlade approaches", "\tAfternoon, Blade.\n\n\tThe man lowers his newspaper. It's Deacon Frost. He's wearing\n\tsunglasses, but otherwise, he's seemingly unprotected by the sun. \n\n\tBlade reaches for his .454 -- \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tEasy.\n\n\tFrost's hand rests on the back of the girl's neck. We see his claws\n\textend, caressing the flesh beneath her chin.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy didn't you tell me the truth \n\t\tabout him?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWe weren't sure we could trust you.\n\n\tWhistler sighs, removing his glasses.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's mother was attacked by a \n\t\tvampire while she was pregnant. \n\t\tUltimately, she died, but her unborn \n\t\tchild lived. Unfortunately, he'd \n\t\tunder" ], [ "\t\tWhistler, I --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(cutting him off, more gentle now)\n\t\tI know. \n\t\t\t(forcing a smile)\n\t\tJust be quick about it, will you? Do \n\t\tit right.\n\n\tBlade fights back tears. With a wretched moan, he turns his head and\n\tdrives the stake into Whistler's chest. Whistler GASPS. Blade wraps\n\this arms around the older man, holding him", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow did you escape?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI didn't. He was cruel enough to let \n\t\tme live.\n\t\t\t(slapping his brace)\n\t\tEven gave me a souvenir to remember \n\t\thim by.\n\n\tKaren nods -- it's all falling into place for her now.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAnd now you're using Blade to exact \n\t\tyour revenge?\n\n", "\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tIf Blade hadn't brought you here, you \n\t\twould've wound up like him.\n\n\tKaren brings a hand to her bandaged neck, recalling the events of the\n\tprevious night. She looks to Blade.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy did you help me?\n\n\tBlade scowls, his gaze flickering to Whistler.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tStupidity.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n", "\n\n\tThe place has been trashed. It looks like a tornado touched down in\n\this absence. Blade pulls out one of his .454s, cautious --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWHISTLER?!\n\n\t-- and then he stops dead in his tracks.\n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\thas been strung up by his arms against the far wall, tortured and\n\tleft for dead. In response to Blade's voice, a MOAN escapes the dying\n\tman's lips.\n\n\t", "\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tWhich is why you're here. We could use \n\t\tsomeone with your experience.\n\n\tA beat passes between them and Karen knows where she stands now. In\n\tfor a penny, in for a pound. Whistler reaches for Blade's sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThis used to be mine, you know. It's \n\t\tbeen passed down through the \n\t\tcenturies, from one hunter to the \n", "pale, the whites of her eyes are streaked with red.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAny progress?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tSome. It's been slow --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't look so good. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm just tired, that's all. We've been \n\t\tup all night.\n\n\tBlade nods, not buying her explanation. He shoots a glance to\n\tWhistler", "\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou think I'd let him run loose \n\t\twithout a chaperone? Blade ferrets \n\t\ttheir rat-holes out, I map them. Then \n\t\twe blow them all to kingdom come.\n\n\tWhistler finishes arming the explosive device. It BEEPS. He turns\n\tback to Blade and Karen, referring to a handheld navigation device.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThere's a subway line due East of \n\t\t", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "\n\n\tWhistler claps his hand on Karen's shoulder in approval, then limps\n\taway, quickly busying himself with another project. Blade moves to\n\tfollow, but Karen stops him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBefore you go, I'd like to take a \n\t\tsample of your blood.\n\n\tBlade grudgingly rolls up his sleeve. As Karen takes her sample,\n\tBlade looks to Whistler. The older man brings a handkerchief to his\n\tlips, coughing into it.", "DE\n\t\tYou shouldn't be here.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm sorry, I --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER (O.S.)\n\t\tWandered off the beaten path, Doctor?\n\n\tWhistler has entered the room from a second doorway. Karen looks from\n\tWhistler to Blade, trapped between them --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWho are you people?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tMy name is Abraham Whistler.\n", "the rear glide open. Blade guides the\n\tOlds out.\n\n\tINT. ABANDONED FACTORY, WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tSet up in an old ironworks, the place looks like a cross between an\n\tauto junkyard and an armory. Equipment is strewn everywhere --\n\tlathes, mills, old furnaces, gutted vehicles, an ad hoc surgical\n\ttheater -- all of it jerry-rigged in a brutal, oily-tech.\n\n\tBlade clim", "\n\tlined with wrinkles and his hair has long since gone gray, we sense\n\the could kick the living shit out of any man half his age. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tShe's been bitten.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou should've killed her, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tShe hasn't turned yet. \n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tYou can help her.\n\n\tBlade and Whistler stare each other down. Finally,", "ability to blend in. \n\t\tChances are, you've encountered them \n\t\tand not even known it. On the subway, \n\t\tin a bar --\n\n\tBlade slings his CAR-15 onto his shoulder, impatient. He starts\n\ttowards the Olds, gesturing.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tGet in. You’re leaving.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWait.\n\n\tWhistler tosses a small metal canister to Karen.\n\n", "chain. She reaches for it, opens it --\n\n\tThe locket features a photo, old and faded. It's the black woman we\n\tsaw in the prologue, Vanessa, standing in the sunshine. \n\n\tKaren moves towards the door, cautious -- \n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY\n\n\tWe hear VOICES now, coming from beyond a series of black-out\n\tcurtains. Karen pushes one aside and SEES --\n\n\tBLADE\n\n\tstrapped", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy didn't you tell me the truth \n\t\tabout him?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWe weren't sure we could trust you.\n\n\tWhistler sighs, removing his glasses.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's mother was attacked by a \n\t\tvampire while she was pregnant. \n\t\tUltimately, she died, but her unborn \n\t\tchild lived. Unfortunately, he'd \n\t\tunder", "bs out of the Olds. He opens the passenger door and pulls\n\tKaren out, carries her in his arms. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler!\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER (O.S.)\n\t\tAre we bringing home strays now?\n\n\tABRAHAM WHISTLER (60s)\n\n\thobbles out of the shadows, leaning heavily on a cane. Gimlet-eyed,\n\tbitter, his right leg encased in a metal brace. Though his face is", "aren helps him out. Now that they're safely back, the last of\n\tBlade's strength seems to dissipate. \n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\tis waiting for them, sitting at a workbench. \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWhat took you so long?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tDon't even start, old man.\n\n\tBlade throws his sword aside, then moves off into the shadows,\n\tdisappearing beyond the curtains. Karen looks to Whistler --\n\n", "\tfragment is quickly borne away. He watches it disappear into the sky,\n\tthen turns back --\n\n\tMiracia is gone. Blade glances around him, but she's nowhere to be\n\tfound. \n\n\tCAMERA PULLS BACK,\n\n\tisolating Blade amidst the ghostly squalor. From our vantage point,\n\the looks like any other homeless phantom.\n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAWN\n\n\tBlade steps out from the elevator into the workshop --", "\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIs he sick?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tCancer.\n\n\tKaren watches as Blade's blood flows into the vacutainer. She fills\n\tthe first, then inserts another. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou care about him, don't you? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWe've got a good arrangement, that's \n\t\tall. Whistler makes the weapons, I use \n", "\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tFrost's bodycount keeps rising, and \n\t\tI'm not getting any younger, am I?\n\n\tJust then, we hear a SCREAM come from Blade's room, sounding more\n\tlike the cry of a beast than a man. Karen takes a step towards\n\tBlade's room --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI wouldn't go in there if I were you. \n\t\tIt's best to leave him" ], [ "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(whispering, urgent)\n\t\tBlade.\n\n\tBlade's eyes flicker open, fixing on her. Inhuman. He's shaking\n\tlike an alcoholic going into delirium tremens.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tVanessa hands Frost the chalice containing Blade's blood. He lifts it\n\tup for all to see. The vampires begin to chant en masse, some long-\n\tforgotten", "motioning.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTake him to the sanctuary. It's time \n\t\the was bled.\n\n\tThe other vampires retreat, dragging Blade along with them. Karen is\n\tleft alone with Frost and Quinn.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI'd let you watch the proceedings, \n\t\tDoctor, but I'm afraid that privilege \n\t\tis reserved for members of my own \n\t\trace. Don't worry, though, I've made", "invocation in the vampire tongue.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(grinning, to himself)\n\t\t\"And what rough beast, its hour come \n\t\tround at last, slouches towards \n\t\tBethlehem to be born?\"\n\n\tFrost lifts the chalice to his lips and begins to drink. \n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ANTECHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade tries to sit up, gripping Karen's wrist --\n\n\t\t\t\t", "call it the Temple of \n\t\tNight.\n\n\tBlade and Karen are led to the middle of the room, where a stone\n\taltar rises up from a dais. Blade is roughly thrown to the ground. He\n\tkneels there, eyes cast downward. Broken. His system being assaulted\n\tby the devastating effects of the Thirst. \n\n\tQuinn and Mercury pick their way through Blade's discarded gear.\n\tQuinn picks up the punching dagger, admiring it. \n\n\tFrost", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "A SHOWER OF BLOOD\n\n\trains from above, coalescing into Frost as he sweeps down on Blade\n\tlike a giant bird of prey, crushing him against the temple floor. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou want my blood so much?! Take it!\n\n\tFrost's arms elongate and liquefy, flowing into two snake-like spouts\n\tof blood -- the rest of Frost remains solid. The blood-spouts twist\n\taround Blade's neck, melding together, completely encasing", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFight him --\n\n\tAs if on cue, Frost appears at Vanessa's side, wrapping a proprietary\n\tarm about her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. She leans into him\n\t-- an act of practiced intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tShe can't. She's one of my thralls \n\t\tnow. She has about as much free will \n\t\tas a puppet on a string.\n\t\t\t(looking at Vanessa)", "BLADE\n\t\tPass.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou sure now? I bled a newborn for \n\t\tthis. You won't find a drink that's \n\t\tsweeter. \n\n\tIt takes every ounce of Blade's self-control to keep from attacking\n\tFrost -- and Frost senses this, pressing his sharp thumbnail against\n\tthe child's jugular.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTell me honestly, do you really get \n\t\tthe same", "up the marble steps towards a grand, triple-arched\n\tentrance flanked by Corinthian columns. Karen and Blade are dragged\n\talong after him. \n\n\tINT. BANK OF EREBUS - ATRIUM - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost leads his vampires into a high-ceilinged atrium, moving towards\n\ta bank of elevators -- one of the doors of which is outfitted with a\n\thigh-tech hand-key ID system.\n\n\tFrost places his palm on the ID screen. The screen GLOWS G", "behind\n\tthem, SHATTERING and --\n\n\tFrost and Vanessa HOWL AS ONE, their SCREAMS rising to an unendurable\n\tintensity as the two vampires go nova, exploding into an expanding\n\tball of light and ATOMIZING BLOOD.\n\n\tBlade is thrown back off his feet, having to shield his eyes from the\n\tbacklash of occult energy as a near tidal WAVE of blood surges over\n\thim -- \n\n\tEXT. BANK OF EREBUS - CITY", "\n\tbeneath Blade's feet. We follow the blood which has collected there\n\tas it flows into a crude drain and --\n\n\tINT. SANCTUARY - NIGHT \n\n\t-- emerges from the ceiling of the sanctuary below. The stream of\n\tblood is directed down the channels of a spiral column, where it\n\tfinally pools into a waiting chalice.\n\n\tPULL BACK TO REVEAL\n\n\tthe sanctuary in full. A large circular chamber, the perimeter of\n\twhich is lined with rec", "'s a red blood cell, an erythrocyte,\n\tspinning in a river of plasma, roaring up Blade's femoral artery,\n\tracing towards the pumping chambers of his heart which beats like the\n\tdeafening breath of God, which blots all other sounds out of\n\texistence and we're --\n\n\tCUTTING BACK AND FORTH NOW\n\n\tbetween Frost's transformation and Blade's, each of them growing\n\tstronger by the second, caught in an ever-in", ".\n\n\tFrost rises, taking the little girl by the hand. Blade follows, his\n\thand resting on the butt of his Casull.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou're not going anywhere.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t\t(growling)\n\t\tWatch me.\n\n\tFrost's eyes flicker towards the street -- a CITY BUS is rumbling by.\n\tIn a heartbeat, Frost hurls the little girl forward --\n\n\t-- out into the path of the oncoming", "his fist. Blade struggles to reach Frost,\n\tstretching a palsied hand upwards --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tPlease -- \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tListen to your father, Jason. It's \n\t\tgoing to be a better world.\n\n\tBlade stares at Vanessa uncomprehending. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDon't look so surprised, Blade. You've \n\t\tspent your life looking for the \n", "bus! \n\n\tBlade has a split-second to act. It's Frost or the girl -- and for a\n\tmoment we actually think he's going to go for Frost --\n\n\t-- but then he DIVES forward, scooping the girl into his arms,\n\tthrowing themselves out of the bus' path. The bus misses them by a\n\thair. By the time Blade looks up again --\n\n\t-- Frost is gone. Blade rises, cursing, scanning the street as\n\tmarket-goers gather around", "\tFROST\n\t\t\t(gloating)\n\t\tYou're too human, Blade. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(steeling himself)\n\t\tIt's because I'm human that I can do \n\t\tthis.\n\n\tFrost's eyes widen in shock, but he has no time to react, for --\n\n\tBlade is already LUNGING forward, driving the sword-point through\n\tVanessa's chest, on into Frost's heart! It strikes the stone", "suddenly dissipates, SPLASHING away into a million\n\tzero-G blood bubbles, vanishing. Blade spins, unnerved, trying to\n\tpin-point his foe's next manifestation.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhere are you?!\n\n\tFrost's voice answers from all directions.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tEverywhere.\n\n\tA DROPLET OF BLOOD\n\n\tspatters the floor at Blade's feet. Blade looks up --\n\n\t" ], [ "\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tIf Blade hadn't brought you here, you \n\t\twould've wound up like him.\n\n\tKaren brings a hand to her bandaged neck, recalling the events of the\n\tprevious night. She looks to Blade.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy did you help me?\n\n\tBlade scowls, his gaze flickering to Whistler.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tStupidity.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n", "can't just leave. I have a life \n\t\there, a career --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE \n\t\tNot anymore. You've seen one of them. \n\t\tYou won't be allowed to live after \n\t\tthat. \n\n\tKaren stares at Blade. Whistler gestures to the windows --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThere's a war going on out there. \n\t\tBlade, myself, a few others -- we've \n\t\ttried", "'m sorry.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou make it sound like I'm already \n\t\tdead.\n\n\tBlade just stares at her. Finally, she pulls away.\n\n\tEXT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DUSK\n\n\tCLOSE ON Karen as she moves to the grimy outer windows, watching the\n\tsun go down, an unmistakable look of dread creeping over her.\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tEXT. LANDFILL GHETTO - DUS", "\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAnd you honestly expect me to believe \n\t\tall this?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI don't care what you believe. I \n\t\tsaved your life once, I don't plan on \n\t\tmaking a habit of it. You want my \n\t\tadvice, you'll be out of the city by \n\t\tnightfall. If you're stupid enough to \n\t\tstay, that's your business.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI", "pale, the whites of her eyes are streaked with red.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAny progress?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tSome. It's been slow --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't look so good. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm just tired, that's all. We've been \n\t\tup all night.\n\n\tBlade nods, not buying her explanation. He shoots a glance to\n\tWhistler", "\n\n\tWhistler claps his hand on Karen's shoulder in approval, then limps\n\taway, quickly busying himself with another project. Blade moves to\n\tfollow, but Karen stops him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBefore you go, I'd like to take a \n\t\tsample of your blood.\n\n\tBlade grudgingly rolls up his sleeve. As Karen takes her sample,\n\tBlade looks to Whistler. The older man brings a handkerchief to his\n\tlips, coughing into it.", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy didn't you tell me the truth \n\t\tabout him?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWe weren't sure we could trust you.\n\n\tWhistler sighs, removing his glasses.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's mother was attacked by a \n\t\tvampire while she was pregnant. \n\t\tUltimately, she died, but her unborn \n\t\tchild lived. Unfortunately, he'd \n\t\tunder", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow did you escape?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI didn't. He was cruel enough to let \n\t\tme live.\n\t\t\t(slapping his brace)\n\t\tEven gave me a souvenir to remember \n\t\thim by.\n\n\tKaren nods -- it's all falling into place for her now.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAnd now you're using Blade to exact \n\t\tyour revenge?\n\n", "DE\n\t\tYou shouldn't be here.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm sorry, I --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER (O.S.)\n\t\tWandered off the beaten path, Doctor?\n\n\tWhistler has entered the room from a second doorway. Karen looks from\n\tWhistler to Blade, trapped between them --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWho are you people?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tMy name is Abraham Whistler.\n", "aren helps him out. Now that they're safely back, the last of\n\tBlade's strength seems to dissipate. \n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\tis waiting for them, sitting at a workbench. \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWhat took you so long?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tDon't even start, old man.\n\n\tBlade throws his sword aside, then moves off into the shadows,\n\tdisappearing beyond the curtains. Karen looks to Whistler --\n\n", "Whistler turns and\n\theads over to the operating theater.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tNo promises. You watch her close. She \n\t\tstarts to turn, you finish her off.\n\n\tBlade nods, lays Karen down on the operating table. Whistler turns on\n\tan overhead light. Karen is sheathed in sweat, ashen. She's lost a\n\tlot of blood.\n\n\tWhistler snaps on a pair of surgical gloves, probes the wound in\n\tKaren's neck", "ability to blend in. \n\t\tChances are, you've encountered them \n\t\tand not even known it. On the subway, \n\t\tin a bar --\n\n\tBlade slings his CAR-15 onto his shoulder, impatient. He starts\n\ttowards the Olds, gesturing.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tGet in. You’re leaving.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWait.\n\n\tWhistler tosses a small metal canister to Karen.\n\n", "\t\tYou're one of them, aren't you?\n\n\tBlade turns away from Karen, filled with self-loathing. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNot quite. I'm a hybrid. Half-human, \n\t\thalf-vampire.\n\n\tOff Karen's surprised reaction, we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT\n\n\tThe loading elevator CLANGS to a stop. Blade throws the gate open.\n\tK", "dark in here.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou get used to the darkness.\n\n\tKaren takes a step towards him.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhistler told me about your mother. \n\n\tBlade clutches the silver locket in his hand. It swings back and\n\tforth, like a pendulum.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't close my eyes without hearing \n\t\ther scream.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t", "\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tFrost's bodycount keeps rising, and \n\t\tI'm not getting any younger, am I?\n\n\tJust then, we hear a SCREAM come from Blade's room, sounding more\n\tlike the cry of a beast than a man. Karen takes a step towards\n\tBlade's room --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI wouldn't go in there if I were you. \n\t\tIt's best to leave him", "\tBlade emerges from his room, looks to Karen. As if by silent\n\tagreement, last night's words go unacknowledged. He straps on his\n\tbandoleer of stakes, secures his scabbard.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tGoing somewhere?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tChina Town. I need more serum.\n\t\t\t(re: new equipment)\n\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI made a", "\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou think I'd let him run loose \n\t\twithout a chaperone? Blade ferrets \n\t\ttheir rat-holes out, I map them. Then \n\t\twe blow them all to kingdom come.\n\n\tWhistler finishes arming the explosive device. It BEEPS. He turns\n\tback to Blade and Karen, referring to a handheld navigation device.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThere's a subway line due East of \n\t\t", "\tBLADE\n\t\tRemember what we said. Keep your eyes \n\t\topen. They're everywhere.\n\n\tEXT. KAREN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY\n\n\tAs Karen climbs out, Blade swings the door shut behind her. The Olds\n\tROARS off down the quiet residential street. \n\n\tINT. APARTMENT BUILDING, LOBBY - DAY\n\n\tKaren crosses the lobby, stepping into an elevator. Just as the doors\n\tare closing, a WOMAN and", "\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tWhich is why you're here. We could use \n\t\tsomeone with your experience.\n\n\tA beat passes between them and Karen knows where she stands now. In\n\tfor a penny, in for a pound. Whistler reaches for Blade's sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThis used to be mine, you know. It's \n\t\tbeen passed down through the \n\t\tcenturies, from one hunter to the \n", "\n\t\tturn on us.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat happens then?\n\n\tBlade looks to Whistler -- as far as he's concerned, the debate's\n\tover.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThen I have to take you out, just \n\t\tlike any other bloodsucker.\n\n\tBlade turns and exits. Whistler and Karen follow.\n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY\n\n\tBeyond the grimy outer windows" ], [ "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy didn't you tell me the truth \n\t\tabout him?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWe weren't sure we could trust you.\n\n\tWhistler sighs, removing his glasses.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's mother was attacked by a \n\t\tvampire while she was pregnant. \n\t\tUltimately, she died, but her unborn \n\t\tchild lived. Unfortunately, he'd \n\t\tunder", "falters, his mind reeling. What he's seeing is incomprehensible\n\t-- his mother is dead. Yet, here she is in the flesh, reaching out to\n\thim and --\n\n\t-- flashing a mouthful of viper-like fangs! She SNARLS and strikes,\n\tbrutally raking her claws across Blade's face, knocking the sword\n\tfrom his grasp --\n\n\tA TRIO OF BLACK-CLAD VAMPIRES\n\n\tled by Mercury step from the shadows where they'd been waiting", "\n\t\twoman on her way home alone. You were \n\t\tconceived the night I tore my fangs \n\t\tinto your mother's flesh. \n\n\tFrost swings his fist into Blade's skull. Everything goes black. \n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ARMORED TRUCK - NIGHT\n\n\tFADE IN as Blade opens his eyes, still groggy, his face beaded with\n\tsweat. Feverish. His hands have been bound tightly behind his back\n\twith manacles and", "\n\n\tAs the mist clears, revealing the occupant within, Blade raises his\n\tsword, ready to plunge it downward -- only it's not Deacon Frost who\n\trests beneath him, it's --\n\n\tVANESSA,\n\n\tBlade's mother!!! Although some thirty years have passed since the\n\tevents of our prologue, Vanessa looks exactly the same -- vibrant,\n\tbeautiful, full of life. Her eyes open.\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tJ", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't have to be. \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYou don't understand. I've killed, \n\t\tI've hunted, and I've enjoyed it. \n\n\tShe draws closer, caressing her son's face. There's just a hint of\n\tcreepy eroticism in her action, a dash of incest. \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tI wish you could see the world as I \n", "\t\tthen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't have a few minutes, Frost.\n\n\tFrost eyes Blade warily, then lunges towards Vanessa, sweeping behind\n\ther. Blade follows, but even as he raises his sword to strike, Frost\n\tspins Vanessa around, using her body as a shield!\n\n\tBlade hesitates, stopping the sword in mid-strike, catching his\n\tmother's gaze -- her face is monstrous now, scarred by Karen's\n\tpo", "\tvampirism after birth. \n\n\tBlade stares at Karen, disbelieving. Who could imagine a more\n\thorrifying irony? She's crying now. She can't help it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI can't cure you, Blade. I can cure \n\t\tmyself, but I can't cure you.\n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tI'm so sorry.\n\n\tBlade's head sinks, the last vestiges of hope draining out of him", "\tThere's no use fighting us, Jason. \n\n\tBlade looks up, focusing now on --\n\n\tVANESSA, \n\n\twho has remained behind. Blade stares at her. As terrible as his\n\tphysical torment is, his mother's betrayal is infinitely worse.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHow could you be a part of this?\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tThese are my people now. I'm one of \n\t\tthem.\n\n\t", "ason. \n\n\tBlade gasps, uncomprehending.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMother -- ?!\n\n\tVanessa rises from the sarcophagus, tears staining her cheeks.\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tI've missed you so much, Jason. \n\t\t\t(drawing closer)\n\t\tYou have no idea what I've been \n\t\tthrough, how much I've wanted to see \n\t\tyou -- \n\n\tBlade", "\t\tdo. Deacon opened my eyes. There's no \n\t\tturning back from that.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI don't believe that.\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYou will. Time is on our side. Sooner \n\t\tor later, the Thirst always wins.\n\n\tVanessa turns away now. Blade cries after her --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMother!\n\n\tVanessa pauses, looking back, smiling cruelly", "dark in here.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou get used to the darkness.\n\n\tKaren takes a step towards him.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhistler told me about your mother. \n\n\tBlade clutches the silver locket in his hand. It swings back and\n\tforth, like a pendulum.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't close my eyes without hearing \n\t\ther scream.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t", "all\n\talong. They're armed with tasers which they fire en masse --\n\n\tBlade is hit by the taser darts from all sides. He writhes as\n\telectricity courses through him, then collapses in a heap. He labors\n\tto lift his head, looking up at Vanessa -- \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tBut you -- died --\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\t\t(a hellish smile)\n\t\tDeacon brought me back. \n\n\t\t", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "s from his chains, head slack, eyes half-lidded and\n\tlusterless. His skin has grown ashen as his life's blood has been\n\tbled away.\n\n\tMercury appears before him, accompanied by Quinn. She bends in close\n\tto kiss Blade lightly on the lips.\n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tIt won't be long now, lover. \n\n\tQuinn draws alongside her, hefting Blade's punching dagger. He places\n\tit against Blade's throat, slowly", "\t\tthem, the vampires die -- end of \n\t\tstory.\n\n\tKaren finishes. Blade rolls up his sleeve.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tMy mother used to say that a cold \n\t\theart is a dead heart.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYour mother sounds like a Hallmark \n\t\tgreeting card. \n\n\tBlade slips his Casulls into a shoulder holster, then shrugs into his\n\tleather jacket, don", "gone certain genetic changes \n\t\twhile in the womb --\n\n\tWhistler reaches for a pack of cigarettes, pulls one out. He thumbs a\n\tmatch, fires up. Takes a long drag --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI found Blade when he was thirteen. \n\t\tHe'd been living on the streets, \n\t\tfeeding off the homeless. Apparently \n\t\tthe Thirst manifested itself at \n\t\tpuberty -- \n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tI took", ". There's \n\t\tanother world beneath it, the real \n\t\tworld -- and it's a fucking bloodbath. \n\t\tIf you want to survive in it, you'd \n\t\tbetter pull your head out of your ass. \n\n\tBlade slips his glasses back on, leaving Karen shocked into silence.\n\tHe heads for his Olds without looking back, climbs in, guns the\n\tengine. In seconds, he's gone, tearing off down the street in a cloud\n\tof exhaust.\n\n\tEXT", "his fist. Blade struggles to reach Frost,\n\tstretching a palsied hand upwards --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tPlease -- \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tListen to your father, Jason. It's \n\t\tgoing to be a better world.\n\n\tBlade stares at Vanessa uncomprehending. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDon't look so surprised, Blade. You've \n\t\tspent your life looking for the \n", "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro" ], [ "ise. He opens it -- its lined with tiny\n\tampoules of scarlet-colored serum. Blade pulls one out, holds it up\n\tto the light.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler says I'm building up a \n\t\tresistance to it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tI was afraid that might happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMaybe it's time to start exploring \n\t\tother alternatives.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tThere's", "'s been doubled by the infusion of real blood. And there's\n\tsomething else in his gaze now too -- an animal fury that was missing\n\tbefore. Blade has taken one giant step closer to the darkness. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(hesitant)\n\t\tAre you -- all right?\n\n\tBlade pulls at the chains manacled to his wrists, SNAPPING them apart\n\tlike toys. He flexes his hands -- fingernails lengthening to tapered\n\tpoints. And he smiles", "\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's unique, you know. A one in a \n\t\tbillion anomaly. He can withstand \n\t\tsunlight, garlic, even silver. But he \n\t\tstill has the Thirst. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat happens if he doesn't take the \n\t\tserum?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThe Thirst overcomes him, just like \n\t\tthe others. It's not something he", "t respond. Instead she looks away. How in the world is\n\tshe supposed to tell him this?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tIt won't work on you.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhat are you talking about?\n\n\tKaren forces herself to meet his gaze.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYour condition's congenital, the \n\t\tgenetic mutations occurred in utero. \n\t\tAll the other victims contracted \n\t", "into some kind of Inquisition-esque restraint chair. His\n\tshirt is off, his body slick with sweat. Whistler finishes strapping\n\tBlade in, then stands back, holding up a gas-powered pistol injector,\n\thesitant --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER \n\t\tI had to increase the dose. You're \n\t\tbuilding up a resistance to the \n\t\tserum --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(impatient)\n\t\tJust do it, old man", "stronger. I know it is.\n\n\tKaren matches Blade's gaze, steeling herself. The truth is, she's\n\tterrified. \n\n\tBlade stares back at her. At this moment, he wants what Karen is\n\toffering more than anything he's ever desired. And so he rises --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost continues drinking down the blood, when suddenly, a force\n\tseizes his body. He", "\n\n\tWhistler claps his hand on Karen's shoulder in approval, then limps\n\taway, quickly busying himself with another project. Blade moves to\n\tfollow, but Karen stops him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBefore you go, I'd like to take a \n\t\tsample of your blood.\n\n\tBlade grudgingly rolls up his sleeve. As Karen takes her sample,\n\tBlade looks to Whistler. The older man brings a handkerchief to his\n\tlips, coughing into it.", "BLADE\n\t\tGet out of here --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm not leaving without you.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't understand. The Thirst --\n\n\tHe clutches his stomach, experiencing phenomenal pain.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(gasping)\n\t\t-- tearing me -- apart.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI know. Take some of my blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t", ".\n\n\tWhistler nods, fitting Blade with a bite guard. Then he presses the\n\tpistol-injector against Blade's carotid artery. \n\n\tBlade shakes violently, grinding his teeth through the bite guard,\n\tveins cording in his neck. He clutches Whistler's hand, holding it\n\ttightly as he fights his way through the hellish seizure. To his\n\tcredit, Whistler never lets go.\n\n\tMentor and student stare at one another as", "No --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIt's the only way. You know that. \n\t\tWe'll never get out of here alive if \n\t\tyou don't.\n\n\tBlade suppresses a shudder. Simply keeping himself from attacking her\n\ttakes every ounce of his resolve.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't -- I won't be able to stop --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes you will. The human side of you is \n\t\t", "needle into Karen's neck and depresses the\n\tplunger. \"Hurt\" doesn't begin to describe what Karen experiences\n\tnext. Imagine undergoing childbirth while someone pumps battery acid\n\tthrough your veins.\n\n\tKaren SHRIEKS, her body going into uncontrolled paroxysms. The wound\n\ton her neck begins to smoke as the antidote attacks the poisonous\n\tvampire venom.\n\n\tKaren clutches at Blade's arms, digging her nails in. She stares up\n\tat", "head up by his hair. Karen\n\twatches on as Frost continues to taunt him.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tHow long has it been since you had \n\t\tyour serum? Twelve hours? More? You \n\t\tmust be quite thirsty by now.\n\n\tHe crouches down so he's eye to eye with Blade.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhat does it feel like? Is your blood \n\t\ton fire? Are you burning up inside? \n\t\tG", "gone certain genetic changes \n\t\twhile in the womb --\n\n\tWhistler reaches for a pack of cigarettes, pulls one out. He thumbs a\n\tmatch, fires up. Takes a long drag --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI found Blade when he was thirteen. \n\t\tHe'd been living on the streets, \n\t\tfeeding off the homeless. Apparently \n\t\tthe Thirst manifested itself at \n\t\tpuberty -- \n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tI took", "\n\tis soaked in blood. She reaches for him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're hurt --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNothing that won't heal by dawn.\n\n\tBlade reaches into his jacket and pulls out the small, gas-powered\n\tpistol-injector we saw Whistler inject him with earlier. He tries to\n\tload one of the ampoules into it, but because of his wounds, he's not\n\thaving much luck -- \n\n\t\t\t\tBL", "BLADE\n\t\tPass.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou sure now? I bled a newborn for \n\t\tthis. You won't find a drink that's \n\t\tsweeter. \n\n\tIt takes every ounce of Blade's self-control to keep from attacking\n\tFrost -- and Frost senses this, pressing his sharp thumbnail against\n\tthe child's jugular.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTell me honestly, do you really get \n\t\tthe same", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "\n\tBlade's at a complete loss.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler, I can't.\n\n\tWhistler clutches at Blade's arm, his eyes burning with conviction.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYes you can. Now get on with it. \n\n\tAs much as he'd like to deny it, Blade knows that Whistler is right.\n\tHe pulls a stake from his bandoleer, hesitates.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n", "\t\t\tDENNIS\n\t\tPlease don't --\n\n\tBlade simply grabs Dennis by the jaw, tilting his head upward,\n\trotating it from side to side -- looking for bite marks. There aren't\n\tany.\n\n\tBlade moves on, leaving Dennis alone amidst the carnage. As Blade\n\tstarts up the stairs, he pauses in mid-step --\n\n\tA COCKROACH\n\n\tscurries out from underfoot. \n\n\tBlade adjusts his footfall, sparing the ro", "st clubs him on the back of the\n\tneck with the sword pommel. Blade crumples. Karen tries to pull free,\n\tbut Quinn holds her tight.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBlade --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou're wasting your breath, woman. He \n\t\tcan't hear you now. It's the Thirst, \n\t\tyou see? It already has him in its \n\t\tgrip.\n\n\tFrost reaches down, dragging Blade's", "which continues to clutch at Blade's ankle, starts to melt. With a\n\tcry of disgust, Blade kicks the thing away. He turns and climbs\n\tthrough the window --\n\n\tINT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT \n\n\tKaren helps Blade inside. He sinks to the floor of the otherwise\n\tdeserted car, exhausted. He's looking ashen now. The whites of his\n\teyes are shot through with red.\n\n\tKaren gets a good look at Blade's wounds -- the front of his jacket" ], [ "\n\tby a HULKING DOORMAN at the entrance.\n\n\t\t\t\tDOORMAN\n\t\tI'm sorry, sir -- do you have an \n\t\tinvitation?\n\n\tINT. BLACK PEARL - NIGHT\n\n\tCRASH! The front door flies open as the Doorman's body sails through.\n\tBlade enters, Karen at his heels -- \n\n\tThe 'Pearl' is an all-hours strip club cum casino catering\n\texclusively to Japanese zaibatsu clientele", "\n\n\tThe place has been trashed. It looks like a tornado touched down in\n\this absence. Blade pulls out one of his .454s, cautious --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWHISTLER?!\n\n\t-- and then he stops dead in his tracks.\n\n\tWHISTLER\n\n\thas been strung up by his arms against the far wall, tortured and\n\tleft for dead. In response to Blade's voice, a MOAN escapes the dying\n\tman's lips.\n\n\t", "\n\tcordoned off by cyclone fencing and razor wire. Ultra-violet\n\tfloodlights illuminate the area, while an army of security cameras\n\tkeep a watchful eye. \n\n\tINT. BLADE'S OLDS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade glances at Karen, cursing himself for giving into his emotions.\n\tHe hits a remote secured to the sun visor --\n\n\tEXT. BLADE'S OLDS/ABANDONED FACTORY - NIGHT\n\n\tA gate grinds open.", "\tAfternoon, Blade.\n\n\tThe man lowers his newspaper. It's Deacon Frost. He's wearing\n\tsunglasses, but otherwise, he's seemingly unprotected by the sun. \n\n\tBlade reaches for his .454 -- \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tEasy.\n\n\tFrost's hand rests on the back of the girl's neck. We see his claws\n\textend, caressing the flesh beneath her chin.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\t", "parked nearby. Midnight-black. The definitive high-\n\tperformance heavy-metal muscle machine with an engine big enough to\n\tpower an Apollo rocket. \n\n\tINT. BLADE'S OLDS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade sets Karen down in the passenger seat, climbs behind the wheel,\n\tkeys the ignition. The engine ROARS to life, belching fumes through\n\tthe dual exhaust. Blade floors it, burning serious rubber as the Olds\n\tvanishes from sight. \n\n\tBACK AT THE DE", "him.\n\n\tWHIP PAN TO --\n\n\tSOMEONE sitting astride a motorcycle, watching Blade from the roof of\n\tan elevated parking garage. The rider is clad from head to toe in a\n\thelmet and black leather -- Mercury. \n\n\tEXT. ABANDONED FACTORY - DAY\n\n\tBlade's Olds cruises into the gated grounds. It zips down the ramp\n\tway into the loading elevator.\n\n\tBACK BY THE TRAIN TRACKS --\n\n\tMercury'", "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "by the \n\t\tcity dump. I'm told she only sees \n\t\tpeople at night. \n\n\tBlade nods his thanks and heads back through the curtains.\n\n\tEXT. CHINATOWN, STREET - DAY\n\n\tBlade emerges from the alley into the sunlight, then hears his name\n\tWHISPERED on the wind.\n\n\t\t\t\tVOICE (o.s.)\n\t\tBlade.\n\n\tBlade spins, scanning his surroundings -- did he really hear his\n\tname", "call it the Temple of \n\t\tNight.\n\n\tBlade and Karen are led to the middle of the room, where a stone\n\taltar rises up from a dais. Blade is roughly thrown to the ground. He\n\tkneels there, eyes cast downward. Broken. His system being assaulted\n\tby the devastating effects of the Thirst. \n\n\tQuinn and Mercury pick their way through Blade's discarded gear.\n\tQuinn picks up the punching dagger, admiring it. \n\n\tFrost", "BLADE\n\t\tLooks like we hit pay-dirt. This place \n\t\tis crawling with them.\n\t\t\t(pointing)\n\t\tSee the valets over there? They're \n\t\tvampires. So is the doorman.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow can you tell?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThe way they move, they way they \n\t\tsmell --\n\n\tBlade continues to scan the area, pointing out a few more likely\n\tc", "\n\n\tWe follow the Olds as it cruises around the back of the building,\n\theading down a concrete loading ramp. At the bottom of the ramp, a\n\theavy iron door rises. Blade's Olds disappears into the darkness.\n\n\tINT. ABANDONED FACTORY, INDUSTRIAL ELEVATOR - NIGHT\n\n\tMore UV lights flicker on. We're in a massive loading elevator which\n\tHUMS as it ascends, eventually reaching its destination with a\n\tBOOMING CLANG. The doors at", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", ". An edge so\n\tsharp it could cleave a shadow in two.\n\n\tBlade moves like lightning, hacking his way into TWO CHARGING\n\tVAMPIRES. Blade spins again, cuts ANOTHER VAMPIRE clean in half --\n\n\tON THE FAR END OF THE CLUB,\n\n\ta LATEX-CLAD VAMP makes a break for it. Blade flings his sword,\n\tsending it spinning end over end -- THUNK! The sword punches into the\n\tvampire's heart. The", "ming into the rear wall so hard that plaster rains down from the\n\tceiling. \n\n\tBlade suddenly finds himself wrestling with a feral-faced six-foot-\n\tsomething nightmare named QUINN. The vampire rears back its head,\n\tjaws stretching wide. Every inch of his face is covered with ritual\n\tscarification patterns and Maori-like tribal tattoos. \n\n\tBlade forces an elbow against Quinn's throat, trying to keep him at\n\tbay. With his other hand he reaches to his bandoleer", "CUT TO:\n\n\tEXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade's Olds cruises to a stop. We're in a low-end commercial\n\tdistrict -- junky heaven. Blade climbs out, pulling an automatic\n\trifle from the back seat, then heading into an alleyway. \n\n\tEXT. BACK ALLEY - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade makes his way down the alley, cautious -- he SEES mountains of\n\ttrash, boarded-up windows, overlapping layers of gang graffiti", "DE\n\t\tYou shouldn't be here.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'm sorry, I --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER (O.S.)\n\t\tWandered off the beaten path, Doctor?\n\n\tWhistler has entered the room from a second doorway. Karen looks from\n\tWhistler to Blade, trapped between them --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWho are you people?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tMy name is Abraham Whistler.\n", "ade points to a building across the street --\n\n\tTHE HOLLISTON CLINIC,\n\n\tyour basic inner-city blood-barter establishment where desperate\n\ttransients parley their plasma into cash.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(recognizing it)\n\t\tI know this place -- it's a blood \n\t\tbank. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tOwned by vampires. There's one of \n\t\tthese in every major city, and just \n\t\tlike Domino", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "a purple neon scroll above the entrance -- a FLASHING\n\tKANJI, just like the glyph tattooed on Tanaka's neck.\n\n\tTanaka's Mustang pulls into the parking lot. He climbs out, flagging\n\taway the valets, heads inside --\n\n\tWHIP PAN TO\n\n\tBlade's Olds stopping a few blocks down the street.\n\n\tINT. BLADE'S OLDS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade kills the engine, studying The Black Pearl.\n\n\t\t\t\t", "MOLISHED MORGUE WINDOW \n\n\tas the two policemen stare numbly in open-mouthed astonishment.\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tEXT. CITY STREETS - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade pilots the Olds down the streets, moving through a series of\n\tincreasingly degenerating neighborhoods, coming at last to the\n\tsprawling warehouse district.\n\n\tEXT. ABANDONED FACTORY - NIGHT \n\n\tThe Olds approaches a mammoth industrial facility that's been" ], [ "his fangs into Karen's carotid artery and\n\tstarts to nurse --\n\n\tBANG!!! A load of MAHOGANY buckshot chews into Quinn's side. He HOWLS\n\tin pain. Another load catches him full in the face. He drops Karen.\n\tShe falls to the floor -- \n\n\tKAREN'S POV\n\n\tThe sound of RUSHING BLOOD pounding through her skull. Everything\n\tspinning. She struggles to move, turns her head, finds herself eye to\n\teye with Curt", "ving\n\tunit where Whistler's weapons are stored, grabs one of the modified\n\tpistols --\n\n\tKaren tries to draw a bead on the creature. She FIRES, misses, FIRES\n\tagain -- she's getting more unnerved as the seconds tick by and the\n\tcreature is moving closer and --\n\n\t-- suddenly it's right in front of her, flying through the air, fangs\n\tbared! \n\n\tThe child knocks Karen back against the wall. It's at her throat,\n\ts", "relaxes. She opens the door and steps aside, allowing\n\tGideon to enter.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes, that was me, I'm Karen Jansen -- \n\n\tGideon smiles, takes a quick glance around the room, then studies\n\tKaren's face, the bandages on her neck.\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tAre you all right?\n\t\t\t(off Karen's nod)\n\t\tI'm glad you called, Ms. Jansen, we've ", "-- a\n\tRAT crouching on a trash dumpster, gnawing on a dead pigeon --\n\n\t-- then a SOUND behind Blade, the scuffle of feet -- \n\n\tBlade whirls, drawing his sword, CHARGING at an approaching shadow,\n\tstopping mere millimeters from decapitating --\n\n\tKAREN,\n\n\twho's been backed up against the wall, her eyes wide with fright.\n\tBlade's sword vibrates from the tension in his forearm, having drawn\n\tjust the", "the other end.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHello? My name is Karen Jansen, I was \n\t\twith Curtis Webb at Mid-Town Hospital \n\t\tlast night -- that's right, I \n\t\twitnessed the attack --\n\t\t\t(listening)\n\t\t115 Aurora, apartment 3G. Yes, I'll \n\t\twait here. Please hurry.\n\n\tKaren hangs up the phone and turns -- \n\n\tA SHAFT OF BRIGHT SUN", "KAREN,\n\n\tas she watches Frost's transformation, wide-eyed. She SEES Blade's\n\tdiscarded sword, reaches for it -- suddenly, a SHADOW moves on the\n\tperiphery of her vision --\n\n\tVANESSA\n\n\trushes at Karen in a near-blur. The SNARLING hellion is upon Karen in\n\tan eye-blink, SLAMMING her down against the temple floor, pinning\n\ther. \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n", "CHILD\n\n\tleaps from where it had been hiding overhead! Karen SCREAMS.\n\tWhistler is knocked to the floor, the flashlight spinning from his\n\thand --\n\n\tThe feral child lands atop Whistler, HISSING like a cobra. Its\n\tmacrocephalic head seems to morph, twisting into grotesque\n\tproportions. And just as it's about to strike --\n\n\tZZZZING! Whistler withdraws a silver rapier which had been hidden\n\tinside his cane", ", which doesn't go unnoticed by Karen.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tExcuse me.\n\n\tKaren turns, heading for the back of the workshop.\n\n\tINT. WORKSHOP - BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tKaren enters a dingy bathroom, turning on the overhead bulb. She\n\tstudies her reflection in the mirror above the sink, then grimaces as\n\tshe peels the dressing from her wound -- the wound is clearly\n\tinfected, gangrenous. \n\n\t\t", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI had a family once -- a wife, three \n\t\tdaughters. Then a drifter named Deacon \n\t\tFrost came calling one evening --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHe killed them?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tEventually. He toyed with them first. \n\t\tHe made me choose, do you understand? \n\t\tWhich order they would die in --\n\n\tKaren stares at Whistler, horrified", "\tspirit, requiring a flesh and blood \n\t\thost in order to manifest himself.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWho better to usher in the Blood Tide? \n\n\tKaren shakes her head, protesting --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tThere's no need for any of this. Your \n\t\tcondition can be treated. Whistler and \n\t\tI were working on a cure when --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST", "\tKaren looks up with a growing sense of dread.\n\n\tA FACE\n\n\temerges from the darkness. Pallid, cadaverous, shedding its\n\tdesiccated flesh. Lidless eyes like black marbles slick with\n\tVaseline. A mouth like a raw wound. \n\n\t\t\t\tREVENANT\n\t\tKarreennnnnn. I never thought I'd see \n\t\tyou againnnnn.\n\n\tKaren backs away, realizing who she's standing before.\n\n\t\t", "\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ANTECHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tBlade moans, sinking his teeth deeper. Karen's head rolls back. Her\n\teyes open -- glassy, unseeing -- as a wave of ecstasy overtakes her. \n\n\tShe shudders, her breath quickening, falling into a synchronous\n\trhythm with Blade's. Her fingers dig deep into his back, clawing\n\tdownward, tearing into him -- \n\n\tShe's not Karen anymore -- she", "The child SLAMS up against the glass. Karen backpedals,\n\tstartled. Its eyes are open now, pupils blown. It snarls, revealing a\n\tmouthful of razored fangs, trailing mouth-slime across the glass as\n\tit futilely tries to chew its way through to Karen.\n\n\tKaren stifles a sob, turning and running right into --\n\n\tBLADE,\n\n\twho now blocks the exit, sword in hand. Karen retreats a step,\n\twary --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLA", "\tclutching it -- and now one of the men turns to look at her,\n\tnodding --\n\n\tINT. KAREN'S APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY - DAY\n\n\tThe elevator doors open. Karen hurries out, heads left, finds herself\n\tin a deserted hallway. She looks back --\n\n\t-- then skips a heartbeat as the trio also step out! As Karen raises\n\tthe canister of mace --\n\n\t-- the trio turn and head down to the right. Karen breathes a sigh of\n", "through the peephole,\n\tcautious --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWho is it? \n\n\tKAREN'S POV (FISH-EYE)\n\n\tA POLICE OFFICER stands in the hallway -- 30s, handsome, a knight in\n\tshining armor as far as she's concerned. \n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tSergeant Gideon. I'm responding to a \n\t\t911 call. \n\n\tKaren visibly", "lunges closer, lolling its distended tongue over her mouth in a\n\tpathetic approximation of a French kiss.\n\n\tShe fumbles behind her, choking, grabbing hold of a human femur,\n\tblindly swinging it upward --\n\n\tCRACK! The blow shatters the Curtis-thing's jaw. It rears back,\n\tfalling to the side. \n\n\tKaren crawls out from under its weight, swinging the femur again and\n\tagain --\n\n\tCRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Karen", "into the corpse drawers, but Quinn is upon her in a half-\n\tsecond, wrapping a hand about her throat. His mouth opens/morphs\n\tdisturbingly wide as if to swallow her head whole, caustic saliva\n\tdripping from his canines -- \n\n\tKaren tries to turn her head away, but Quinn's grip is vise-like. She\n\tfinds herself staring into his eyes -- pupils pulsing rapid-fire,\n\topening and closing, hypnotic --\n\n\tAs Quinn sinks the tips of", "pummels the howling horror, driving it\n\tback until the femur actually splinters in half. The creature's head\n\thangs at an awkward angle now, its neck broken -- but still it\n\tadvances, dragging itself back up.\n\n\tSobbing, Karen retreats, clutching the splintered femur like a\n\tmakeshift dagger.\n\n\tCurtis charges at her, a blur of slashing claws. At the last moment,\n\tKaren ducks, thrusting the bone dagger up into Curtis' chest", "his adrenaline high. Finally, he looks\n\tto Karen --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou okay?\n\n\tKaren nods, glances at Gideon --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow did you know?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFigured they'd send someone after you. \n\t\tThought I'd wait around and see who \n\t\tshowed up.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou used me as bait?!\n\n", "TWO MEN duck in alongside her. \n\n\tINT. ELEVATOR - DAY\n\n\tSilence, the uncomfortableness of an elevator ride magnified tenfold.\n\tKaren can FEEL the eyes of her fellow passengers upon her. Finally\n\tsuccumbing to paranoia, she hazards a glance -- would she be able to\n\ttell if these people weren't human? The woman turns to Karen,\n\tsmiles --\n\n\tKaren surreptitiously fishes the \"vampire mace\" from her pocket,\n" ], [ "\t\t-- they're severely allergic to \n\t\tsilver, various types of wood. Feed \n\t\tthem garlic and they'll go into \n\t\tanaphylactic shock -- \n\n\tWhistler picks up a customized rifle with a UV entry light, flicking\n\ton the beam.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t-- and of course there's always \n\t\tsunlight, ultra-violet rays. \n\n\tKaren shakes her head, incredulous -- \n\n\t\t", "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "running water \n\t\tdon't do dick, so forget what you've \n\t\tseen in the movies. \n\n\tBlade enumerates the following on his fingers:\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou use the stake, silver, or \n\t\tsunlight, got it? \n\n\tBlade holds up one of his Casulls. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tKnow how to use one of these?\n\n\tKaren takes the weapon from him, eyes all over it.\n\n\t\t", ", moving from one city to \n\t\tthe next, tracking their migrations. \n\t\tThey're hard to kill. They tend to \n\t\tregenerate.\n\n\tCLACK! Blade pulls the trigger on an empty chamber, then checks his\n\tnext weapon --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(sarcastic)\n\t\tSo what do you use, then? A stake?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tSome of the old wives' tales are true \n", "VAMPIRE\n\n\tleaps at him. Blade spins, flipping the vampire over his shoulder,\n\tsending him straight through one of the other windows --\n\n\tEXT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tThe vampire tumbles earthward, SCREAMING as the sun's rays ignite his\n\tbody, falling like a human comet.\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tBlade unsheathes his sword and heads out into the hall --", "ail as the first faint rays of daylight fall upon him, channeled\n\tinward by the natural formation of the cove -- \n\n\tDragonetti HOWLS, his skin beginning sizzle and smoke. Then he\n\tcatches fire like paper beneath a magnifying glass. He thrashes about\n\tas his flesh starts to run from his body.\n\n\tTHE VAMPIRE ELDERS\n\n\twatch, impassive, protected by their masks --\n\n\t-- when suddenly, TWELVE FIGURES rise up behind them, clad", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "\n\tBlade's at a complete loss.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler, I can't.\n\n\tWhistler clutches at Blade's arm, his eyes burning with conviction.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYes you can. Now get on with it. \n\n\tAs much as he'd like to deny it, Blade knows that Whistler is right.\n\tHe pulls a stake from his bandoleer, hesitates.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n", "hellish creature convulses, dies.\n\n\tBeat. Blade retrieves his sword, then senses --\n\n\tSOMETHING BIG\n\n\trising up behind him. In a flash, Blade swings his sword downward,\n\tcutting off the vampire's right hand at the elbow. The severed limb\n\tfalls to the floor -- \n\n\t-- but it doesn't slow the hulking creature down. It SLAMS into\n\tBlade. Blade flies backwards thirty feet, tumbling over tables,\n\tslam", "BLADE\n\t\tLooks like we hit pay-dirt. This place \n\t\tis crawling with them.\n\t\t\t(pointing)\n\t\tSee the valets over there? They're \n\t\tvampires. So is the doorman.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow can you tell?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThe way they move, they way they \n\t\tsmell --\n\n\tBlade continues to scan the area, pointing out a few more likely\n\tc", ", we can see that the day is closing --\n\tlong shadows, amber light. Karen lingers in the doorway, reeling from\n\tinformation overload. \n\n\tBlade begins suiting up for his nightly hunt -- strapping on body\n\tarmor, loading ammunition. He strings the tarnished locket around his\n\tneck as if it were an amulet that could ward off evil, then pauses to\n\tinspect a modified pistol, sighting down the length of it.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWe hunt them", "Blade thrusts his blackened sword forward, right\n\tthrough the vampire's chest. \n\n\tThe creature SHRIEKS and atomizes -FWOOSH!- flying apart in a fine-\n\tbeaded spray of blood mist. \n\n\tUp ahead are a set of steel doors with a time-lock mechanism. Blade\n\tdraws a Casull, BLASTS away at the lock, then shoulders the doors\n\topen --\n\n\tINT. FROST'S SLEEPING CHAMBER - DAY\n\n\tWe are in a", "other. He balances the\n\trifle against his hip like an over-the-hill gunslinger and OPENS FIRE\n\ton the vampires.\n\n\tBlade rolls, snatching up a fragment of the parchment which has blown\n\tfree from the vault. Seconds later, he and Karen are fleeing after\n\tWhistler, retreating back through his newly created exit.\n\n\tINT. TUNNEL - NIGHT\n\n\tThe three of them find themselves ankle-deep in a flooded sewer\n\ttunnel running parallel to the arch", "'s, they always deliver.\n\t\t\t(looking to Karen)\n\t\tYou telling me you're ready to walk \n\t\tthrough that door?\n\n\tKaren nods. Blade continues to stare at her, taking her measure --\n\tthere's a strength in this woman's eyes, she has the soul of a\n\tfighter -- and Blade recognizes it. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAll right, then, listen up, Vampire \n\t\tAnatomy 101. Crosses and", "ics -- but the end result is little more than\n\tan annoyance. A second later, Gideon is simply blinking, sniffing his\n\tfingers, confused --\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tGarlic?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHe said it would work against \n\t\tvampires --\n\n\tGideon bursts out laughing.\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tWho said I was a vampire? \n\n\tGideon shakes his head, still snickering", ". We've never seen anything\n\tmove so fast. She CRASHES through a glass skylight, disappearing into\n\tthe night just as --\n\n\t-- a shaft of blinding UV \"sunlight\" cuts across the vampires. They\n\trear back, skin smoking from the light's corrosive effects. Blade\n\topens FIRE, pumping round after round of wooden fragmentation bullets\n\tinto the crowd -- vampire genocide.\n\n\tThe strobe lights flicker as the mayhem mounts. Some of the vampires\n\t", "LIGHT\n\n\tstreams in through a window. Karen forces herself to look at it and\n\twinces, shielding her eyes. Again, she brings a hand to the bandaged\n\twound on her neck. She moves to the window, pulling the shade down,\n\tfrightened.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tGet a grip on yourself, girl.\n\n\tShe sinks down into a chair to wait, setting Whistler's vampire mace\n\taside. Then she shuts her eyes, massaging her temples. We SE", "s penthouse, a good twenty stories\n\tabove street level. A second before he reaches the windows, Blade\n\tlets go. Momentum sends him CRASHING through in a shower of glass.\n\n\tINT. FROST'S PENTHOUSE - DAY\n\n\tAn ALARM is ringing. Sunlight streams in through the broken window.\n\tTWO VAMPIRE GUARDS who have been caught in the sudden swath of light\n\tare burning up before our eyes. Blade climbs to his feet --\n\n\tA THIRD", "the pit.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - BLEEDING CHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tWe are in a small, elevated antechamber which is situated above the\n\tmain vampire sanctuary.\n\n\tBLADE, \n\n\tnow weakened to the point of collapse, is being lashed to a rack-like\n\tdevice by iron chains. \n\n\tMercury and her cohorts move efficiently, quickly securing him. When\n\tthey are through, the rack is hoisted up into the air via a series of\n", ", pulls out a\n\tstake -- CRUNCH! Blade shoves the stake through the vampire's larynx.\n\tQuinn gurgles, clutches at his throat. \n\n\tBlade rolls out from under, unholsters the cross-bow secured to his\n\tleg. With a flick of a switch the arms of the bow -SNAP!- open,\n\tdrawing the bow-string taut. Blade FIRES -- \n\n\tThe bolt hits Quinn in the shoulder, throwing him backwards and\n\tnailing him to the wall." ], [ "\told vampire inhabiting the body of a prepubescent boy, interjects.\n\n\t\t\t\tPALLINTINE\n\t\tYou're out of line, Frost.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tAm I? Or am I just the first to say \n\t\tout loud what we've all been \n\t\tthinking? \n\n\tThe fact that no one answers is telling. Dragonetti glowers at the\n\tother Elders, sensing the tide turning.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n", "\tDragonetti slams his fist down, toppling a carafe, spilling blood\n\tacross the tabletop. Frost looks to the others --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy should we spend our lives \n\t\tcringing from the daylight when his \n\t\tblood offers us an alternative? \n\t\tEnough talk. It's time we stepped out \n\t\tof the shadows!\n\n\tDragonetti looks apoplectic. ELDER PALLINTINE, a five-hundred year-\n", "\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(snarling)\n\t\tThe other elders will never let you \n\t\tget away with this!\n\n\tJust then, the TWELVE VAMPIRE ELDERS emerge behind Frost, forming a\n\tcircle around Dragonetti. All wear business suits, gloves, along with\n\thigh-tech \"sun masks\" to protect their faces from the light's lethal\n\trays. \n\n\tThey stare at Dragonetti like a silent jury. His face darkens, anger\n\trising --", "intended to unnerve Dragonetti, it succeeded, though the\n\tancient vampire would never admit it.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tWhat are you up to, Frost?\n\n\tFrost shuts the lid on his laptop, rising, drawing intimidatingly\n\tclose to Dragonetti.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST'S VOICE\n\t\tWouldn't you like to know, Old Fang?\n\n\tA beat as the young turk stares his elder down. Dragonetti is the\n\tfirst to lose", "in bike\n\thelmets and black leather, just like Frost. The intruders grip each\n\tof the Elders in a strangle hold, ripping their masks off. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDragonetti was right. You were fools \n\t\tto trust me.\n\n\tFrost flips down the visor of his helmet even as --\n\n\tTHE RED SUN\n\n\trises in all its fiery glory.\n\n\tOne by one, the vampire Elder's heads catch fire, skullflesh", "but there's a desperation in his eyes now too. He speaks in\n\tthe secret tongue:\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(subtitled)\n\t\tDon't you see, you fools?! He'll \n\t\tbetray you too! He's planning on \n\t\tinvoking LaMagra himself!\n\n\tThe vampires just smile and shake their heads.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe wheel turns, old fang. Guess you \n\t\tjust got a little too", "\n\n\ta mere \"Underlord\" in the vampire hierarchy, steps forward.\n\tStrikingly handsome, younger, less conservative than his superiors,\n\tfueled with a passionate intensity. Amongst the vampire community\n\the's known as an agitator. He's also the vampire equivalent of a\n\tracial supremacist.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe Day Walker represents a unique \n\t\topportunity. We'd be fools to waste \n\t\tit by killing him. \n\n", "bus, seat of the vampire race's legislative assembly.\n\n\tGathered around a massive table are the TWELVE VAMPIRE ELDERS,\n\trepresenting a \"rainbow\" of racial colors -- names like PALLINTINE,\n\tVON ESPER, ASHE, BAVA. Two of them, the FAUSTINAS, are identical\n\ttwins -- lethal-looking women with alabaster skin. \n\n\tChilled carafes filled with blood are situated along the table. From\n\ttime to time, a", "\tFrost stabs an accusing finger at the Overlord.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tSome withered up fossil ready to snap \n\t\tlike a brittle bone at the first sign \n\t\tof change?\n\n\tDragonetti GROWLS like an beast, raking his claws across the tyro\n\tvampire's face, knocking him to the ground. \n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tGet out!!!\n\n\tFrost picks himself up, touches the gashes on his cheek.", "member will pour themselves a glass, or perhaps, help\n\tthemselves to the bowls of human finger bones which serve as snacks.\n\n\tAt the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire\n\t\"Overlord\". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-like\n\tfeatures. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile as a\n\tviper. \n\n\tDragonetti speaks. He uses the \"secret tongue\" -- the ancient vampire\n\tlanguage which utilizes consonants human", "long in the \n\t\ttooth.\n\n\tDragonetti's cries are cut short as Frost forces the aging vampire's\n\tmouth open, ripping out his fangs with his bare hands. Dragonetti\n\tGURGLES and SHRIEKS, sounding like a dying animal.\n\n\tFrost turns to face the Twelve now, his eyes bright with victory. He\n\tpulls on his motorcycle helmet, as do Mercury and Quinn. \n\n\tBehind them, Dragonetti struggles furiously against his chains to no\n\tav", "essed alcoves housing the remains of the\n\tvampire ancients, set into the sanctuary walls like cells in a hive.\n\n\tDEACON FROST\n\n\tstands in the center of the chamber, allowing Vanessa to clothe him\n\tin ceremonial regalia -- gleaming, centuries-old armor. He pauses,\n\tkissing her hungrily.\n\n\tHaving finished suiting up, he turns to face the vampires who have\n\tbeen faithful to his cause -- Mercury, Quinn, a host of others. A\n\t", "ail as the first faint rays of daylight fall upon him, channeled\n\tinward by the natural formation of the cove -- \n\n\tDragonetti HOWLS, his skin beginning sizzle and smoke. Then he\n\tcatches fire like paper beneath a magnifying glass. He thrashes about\n\tas his flesh starts to run from his body.\n\n\tTHE VAMPIRE ELDERS\n\n\twatch, impassive, protected by their masks --\n\n\t-- when suddenly, TWELVE FIGURES rise up behind them, clad", "hush settles upon them. There's an excitement in the air, a sense\n\tthat something remarkable is about to happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTonight is the night we've waited our \n\t\tentire lives for. Tonight, the \n\t\tblood-dimmed Tide is loosed upon the \n\t\tworld. Tonight, the Age of Man comes \n\t\tto an end. \n\n\tThe vampires bellow out a CHORUS OF CHEERS, their voices resonating\n\toff", "falters, his mind reeling. What he's seeing is incomprehensible\n\t-- his mother is dead. Yet, here she is in the flesh, reaching out to\n\thim and --\n\n\t-- flashing a mouthful of viper-like fangs! She SNARLS and strikes,\n\tbrutally raking her claws across Blade's face, knocking the sword\n\tfrom his grasp --\n\n\tA TRIO OF BLACK-CLAD VAMPIRES\n\n\tled by Mercury step from the shadows where they'd been waiting", "before him. Quinn cradles his amputated\n\tstump with his newly grown arm. \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tHe took my fucking hand! Again!\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou seem to be in the habit of losing \n\t\tthem fairly often, Quinn. Maybe the \n\t\tamputee lifestyle just suits you.\n\n\tThe other vampires laugh. Quinn stares them into silence. \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tWe need to find him, tonight.\n\n\t", "up the marble steps towards a grand, triple-arched\n\tentrance flanked by Corinthian columns. Karen and Blade are dragged\n\talong after him. \n\n\tINT. BANK OF EREBUS - ATRIUM - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost leads his vampires into a high-ceilinged atrium, moving towards\n\ta bank of elevators -- one of the doors of which is outfitted with a\n\thigh-tech hand-key ID system.\n\n\tFrost places his palm on the ID screen. The screen GLOWS G", "\t\tThe shadows suit us, Frost. We've \n\t\texisted this way for thousands of \n\t\tyears. Who are you to challenge our \n\t\tways?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tSomeone who's sick of living off \n\t\tscraps. The coming age belongs to us, \n\t\tnot the humans! \n\t\t\t(to the others)\n\t\tWhen the final war between our races \n\t\tcomes, who do you want leading the \n\t\tcharge? \n\n", "stronger. I know it is.\n\n\tKaren matches Blade's gaze, steeling herself. The truth is, she's\n\tterrified. \n\n\tBlade stares back at her. At this moment, he wants what Karen is\n\toffering more than anything he's ever desired. And so he rises --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost continues drinking down the blood, when suddenly, a force\n\tseizes his body. He", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH" ], [ "will ever \n\t\taccept a half-breed like you? They \n\t\tcan't. They're afraid of you. \n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tThe humans fear us because we're \n\t\tsuperior. They fear us because in \n\t\ttheir hearts they know their race has \n\t\tbecome obsolete.\n\n\tFrost watches the marketers stream past, sneering in contempt. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLook at them, just an endless stream \n\t\tof", "\t\tThe shadows suit us, Frost. We've \n\t\texisted this way for thousands of \n\t\tyears. Who are you to challenge our \n\t\tways?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tSomeone who's sick of living off \n\t\tscraps. The coming age belongs to us, \n\t\tnot the humans! \n\t\t\t(to the others)\n\t\tWhen the final war between our races \n\t\tcomes, who do you want leading the \n\t\tcharge? \n\n", "\tMaybe I don't see it that way.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tOh, so it's back to pretending we're \n\t\thuman again, is it? Spare me the Uncle \n\t\tTom routine. You can't keep denying \n\t\twhat you are. You're one of us, Blade. \n\t\tYou always have been.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou're wrong.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tAm I? You think the humans", "ulsion. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're a monster.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy? Because we live at another \n\t\tspecies' expense? Your people farm \n\t\tcattle and veal, don't they? Fattening \n\t\tthem up with steroids? It's called \n\t\tevolution, Doctor. Survival of the \n\t\tfittest. \n\n\tFrost stares at Karen with an intense, uncompromising gaze. \n", "\tFrost stabs an accusing finger at the Overlord.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tSome withered up fossil ready to snap \n\t\tlike a brittle bone at the first sign \n\t\tof change?\n\n\tDragonetti GROWLS like an beast, raking his claws across the tyro\n\tvampire's face, knocking him to the ground. \n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tGet out!!!\n\n\tFrost picks himself up, touches the gashes on his cheek.", "\n\n\ta mere \"Underlord\" in the vampire hierarchy, steps forward.\n\tStrikingly handsome, younger, less conservative than his superiors,\n\tfueled with a passionate intensity. Amongst the vampire community\n\the's known as an agitator. He's also the vampire equivalent of a\n\tracial supremacist.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe Day Walker represents a unique \n\t\topportunity. We'd be fools to waste \n\t\tit by killing him. \n\n", "to choose \n\t\tbetween our kind and their's. If I \n\t\twere you, I'd take care not to wind up \n\t\ton the wrong end of the fang.\n\n\tA bead of sweat runs down Frost's neck, washing away a minute amount\n\tof the sun-blocking cream. The patch of exposed skin instantly\n\tblackens. Frost gazes upwards at the sun.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLove to continue this chat, but it \n\t\tappears I'm melting", "intended to unnerve Dragonetti, it succeeded, though the\n\tancient vampire would never admit it.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tWhat are you up to, Frost?\n\n\tFrost shuts the lid on his laptop, rising, drawing intimidatingly\n\tclose to Dragonetti.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST'S VOICE\n\t\tWouldn't you like to know, Old Fang?\n\n\tA beat as the young turk stares his elder down. Dragonetti is the\n\tfirst to lose", "vocal chords are incapable\n\tof reproducing. \n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI \n\t\t\t(subtitled)\n\t\tBlade. Once again, our interests have \n\t\tfallen victim to his ridiculous \n\t\tcrusade. He must be destroyed.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST (O.S.)\n\t\t\t(in English)\n\t\tYou're wrong, Dragonetti. \n\n\tAll heads turn. Who would dare such impudence?\n\n\tDEACON FROST,", ", GROWLING, his face smoking profusely. Exposure to the\n\tUV rays, even for one short second, has made his face blister like a\n\tplague victim's.\n\n\t\t\t\tPEARL\n\t\t\t(relenting)\n\t\tIt's an epistle, a letter Frost has \n\t\tbeen translating -- it prophesizes \n\t\tLaMagra's return.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tAnd who is LaMagra?\n\n\tPear", "a start. The goal, \n\t\tof course, is to be like you, \"the \n\t\tDay-walker\". \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI don't buy it.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy not? The future of our race runs \n\t\tthrough your bloodstream. You've got \n\t\tthe best of both worlds, Blade. All of \n\t\tour strengths and none of our \n\t\tweaknesses.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t", "for someone with the patience \n\t\tto decipher them. \n\t\tMy elders were foolish enough to \n\t\tdismiss them as wives tales. But I \n\t\tknew better. \n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tImagine my surprise when Blade turned \n\t\tout to be the key which would set that \n\t\tforce free. \n\n\tFrost sits forward now, impassioned.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLaMagra isn't a physical being. He's a \n\t", "Wouldn't want our little friend here \n\t\tto wind up on the back of a milk \n\t\tcarton, would we? \n\n\tBlade reluctantly lowers his hand. Frost smiles. He takes in a deep\n\tbreath of air, savoring it. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tBeautiful day, isn't it? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(confused)\n\t\tHow can you be out here?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t", "\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(subtitled, taking umbrage)\n\t\tDeacon Frost. You refuse to speak our \n\t\tlanguage, you insult the House of \n\t\tErebus by using the humans' \n\t\tgutter-tongue, have you no respect \n\t\tfor tradition? \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy should I respect something which \n\t\thas outlived its purpose?\n\n\tThis causes quite a stir amongst the other vampires. Frost might", "\tspirit, requiring a flesh and blood \n\t\thost in order to manifest himself.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWho better to usher in the Blood Tide? \n\n\tKaren shakes her head, protesting --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tThere's no need for any of this. Your \n\t\tcondition can be treated. Whistler and \n\t\tI were working on a cure when --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST", "as\n\twell have slapped Dragonetti in the face.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(simmering)\n\t\tI see. And what would you have us do \n\t\twith this \"half-breed\"?\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStudy him. Unlock the secrets of his \n\t\tDNA. He's the key we've been looking \n\t\tfor. \n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tHe is an abomination! \n\n", "depended on it. \n\t\t\t(cryptically)\n\t\tWhich, of course, they do.\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\tYou're wasting your time, Frost. Far \n\t\tgreater scholars than you have tried \n\t\tto decipher these words. Whatever \n\t\tsecrets they hold have been lost.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tPerhaps.\n\n\tFrost studies Dragonetti, a self-satisfied grin on his face. If the\n\tact was", "\n\tFrost steps forward, pulling Dragonetti's hood off. Dragonetti stares\n\tat his surroundings, horrified.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhen was the last time you stopped to \n\t\tappreciate a sunrise, Dragonetti? \n\t\tThree, four hundred years? \n\n\tFrost checks his watch, then looks to the ocean. On the horizon, a\n\tsliver of gold appears. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tHow do you like that? Right on time.\n\n\t", "\n\t\tWhat makes you think we want to be \n\t\tcured? Blood is only part of the \n\t\tequation. The hunt, the killing, \n\t\tthat's what the Thirst is really \n\t\tabout.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBut you use blood banks --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tOnly as a last resort. Preserved blood \n\t\tis inferior. There's no flavor left to \n\t\tit, no life. \n\t\t\t(rising from his seat", "\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI have a wake-up call for the human \n\t\trace. You're no longer at the top of \n\t\tthe food chain.\n\n\tEXT. SKYSCRAPER ROOFTOP - DAY\n\n\tBLADE'S POV\n\n\tA telephoto view of Frost's penthouse. The windows are polarized,\n\tblocking out the sun's harsh rays.\n\n\tBlade lowers a pair of binoculars. He's standing on the" ], [ "s a familiar. A human who works for \n\t\tthe vampires. See this mark?\n\n\tBlade pushes aside Gideon's hair, revealing a tiny, cryptic symbol\n\ttattooed into the man's scalp.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThat's a glyph, kind of like a vampire \n\t\tcattle brand. That means Officer \n\t\tFriendly here is someone's property. \n\t\tAny of the other vampire's try to \n\t\tbleed him,", "member will pour themselves a glass, or perhaps, help\n\tthemselves to the bowls of human finger bones which serve as snacks.\n\n\tAt the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire\n\t\"Overlord\". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-like\n\tfeatures. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile as a\n\tviper. \n\n\tDragonetti speaks. He uses the \"secret tongue\" -- the ancient vampire\n\tlanguage which utilizes consonants human", "BLADE\n\t\tLooks like we hit pay-dirt. This place \n\t\tis crawling with them.\n\t\t\t(pointing)\n\t\tSee the valets over there? They're \n\t\tvampires. So is the doorman.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHow can you tell?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThe way they move, they way they \n\t\tsmell --\n\n\tBlade continues to scan the area, pointing out a few more likely\n\tc", "\tthemselves, then their masters will \n\t\tturn them. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tAnd that's a good thing?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFor some. Live forever, never get old. \n\t\tThe ultimate high. \n\n\tJust then, Gideon MOANS. Blade drags the man up so they're eye to\n\teye.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHow 'bout you, Officer? You a good \n\t\tl", "\t\t\t(re: Blade)\n\t\tThis is Blade. As for our little \n\t\thomunculus here --\n\n\tWhistler limps over to the tank, rapping his cane against it. The\n\tcreature snaps at it reflexively, following the silver tip back and\n\tforth like a fish after a lure.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t-- he's a vampire.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're joking --\n\n\t\t\t\tWH", "s from his chains, head slack, eyes half-lidded and\n\tlusterless. His skin has grown ashen as his life's blood has been\n\tbled away.\n\n\tMercury appears before him, accompanied by Quinn. She bends in close\n\tto kiss Blade lightly on the lips.\n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tIt won't be long now, lover. \n\n\tQuinn draws alongside her, hefting Blade's punching dagger. He places\n\tit against Blade's throat, slowly", "\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFight him --\n\n\tAs if on cue, Frost appears at Vanessa's side, wrapping a proprietary\n\tarm about her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. She leans into him\n\t-- an act of practiced intimacy.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tShe can't. She's one of my thralls \n\t\tnow. She has about as much free will \n\t\tas a puppet on a string.\n\t\t\t(looking at Vanessa)", "only one alternative to the \n\t\tserum.\n\n\tBlade nods. They both know what that \"alternative\" is. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYeah. I know.\n\n\tBlade closes the valise and tucks it inside his jacket. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThanks, Kam.\n\t\t\t(thinking)\n\t\tOne other thing. Have you ever heard \n\t\tof a vampire called the Sleeper?\n\n\tKam shakes his head. Bl", "t successfully make the \n\t\ttransition from human to vampire. \n\n\tFrost reaches out, caressing Karen's neck, puncturing the soft flesh\n\tbeneath her chin with a razored fingernail.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThey'll feed on anything, given the \n\t\tchance -- animals, corpses, even other \n\t\tvampires.\n\n\tFrost nods. Karen struggles against Quinn, but it's no good. In a\n\tmanner of seconds, she's falling --", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "the pit.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - BLEEDING CHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tWe are in a small, elevated antechamber which is situated above the\n\tmain vampire sanctuary.\n\n\tBLADE, \n\n\tnow weakened to the point of collapse, is being lashed to a rack-like\n\tdevice by iron chains. \n\n\tMercury and her cohorts move efficiently, quickly securing him. When\n\tthey are through, the rack is hoisted up into the air via a series of\n", "No --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIt's the only way. You know that. \n\t\tWe'll never get out of here alive if \n\t\tyou don't.\n\n\tBlade suppresses a shudder. Simply keeping himself from attacking her\n\ttakes every ounce of his resolve.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't -- I won't be able to stop --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes you will. The human side of you is \n\t\t", "hellish creature convulses, dies.\n\n\tBeat. Blade retrieves his sword, then senses --\n\n\tSOMETHING BIG\n\n\trising up behind him. In a flash, Blade swings his sword downward,\n\tcutting off the vampire's right hand at the elbow. The severed limb\n\tfalls to the floor -- \n\n\t-- but it doesn't slow the hulking creature down. It SLAMS into\n\tBlade. Blade flies backwards thirty feet, tumbling over tables,\n\tslam", "\n\n\ta mere \"Underlord\" in the vampire hierarchy, steps forward.\n\tStrikingly handsome, younger, less conservative than his superiors,\n\tfueled with a passionate intensity. Amongst the vampire community\n\the's known as an agitator. He's also the vampire equivalent of a\n\tracial supremacist.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe Day Walker represents a unique \n\t\topportunity. We'd be fools to waste \n\t\tit by killing him. \n\n", ".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThis is an old tongue, from an old \n\t\tworld. It concerns LaMagra.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWho is LaMagra?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe vampire God. This speaks of His \n\t\treturn.\n\n\tMiracia's fingers search the parchment again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\"-- there will come a Day Walker.\"\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t", "KAREN\n\t\tGraffiti --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tLook closer.\n\n\tBlade indicates a design amongst the various gang-banger tags that\n\tlooks something like a post-modern hieroglyphic.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThis isn't a gang tag, it's a vampire \n\t\tmarking. It means there's a safe-house \n\t\tnearby. \n\t\tA place they can go if dawn is coming. \n\n\tBl", "curator --\n\n\tPEARL,\n\n\ta nine-hundred-pound androgynous vampire of Asian origin, lounging\n\tamidst pillowed rice mats, wearing a communications headset. Think of\n\ta cross between Divine and Jabba The Hutt. Skin the complexion of\n\tbuttermilk, so corpulent he can barely move, so engorged with blood\n\tthat he's actually sweating it from the pores of his skin. \n\n\tPearl is surrounded by a nest of mon", "spirit of his ancestors will \n\t\tsettle upon him.\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t\t\"And the Sleeper will rise from the \n\t\tshadows anew, cleansing the world in a \n\t\tTide of Blood.\"\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(recalling the phrase)\n\t\t\"The Blood Tide\".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tYes. The vampire apocalypse. It is \n\t\tsaid", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "'ve seen vampire blood, you don't \n\t\thave it running through your veins.\n\n\tBlade looks at Karen, his lambent eyes glowing in the moonlight.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJust get out of here.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBlade --\n\n\tBlade turns, his eyes glowing with preternatural fury. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI said, GET OUT!!!\n\n\tKaren backs away, startled by Blade" ], [ ".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThis is an old tongue, from an old \n\t\tworld. It concerns LaMagra.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWho is LaMagra?\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe vampire God. This speaks of His \n\t\treturn.\n\n\tMiracia's fingers search the parchment again.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\"-- there will come a Day Walker.\"\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t", "spirit of his ancestors will \n\t\tsettle upon him.\n\t\t\t(reading)\n\t\t\"And the Sleeper will rise from the \n\t\tshadows anew, cleansing the world in a \n\t\tTide of Blood.\"\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(recalling the phrase)\n\t\t\"The Blood Tide\".\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tYes. The vampire apocalypse. It is \n\t\tsaid", "\n\tbeneath Blade's feet. We follow the blood which has collected there\n\tas it flows into a crude drain and --\n\n\tINT. SANCTUARY - NIGHT \n\n\t-- emerges from the ceiling of the sanctuary below. The stream of\n\tblood is directed down the channels of a spiral column, where it\n\tfinally pools into a waiting chalice.\n\n\tPULL BACK TO REVEAL\n\n\tthe sanctuary in full. A large circular chamber, the perimeter of\n\twhich is lined with rec", "\t\tchanging. Don't you see? The Sleeper \n\t\thas awakened. I'm not just Frost \n\t\tanymore. I'm becoming a god now, \n\t\tblood incarnate.\n\n\tEven as Frost utters the words, his body begins to ripple and morph,\n\tbleeding red, taking on the characteristics of liquid. He doesn't\n\twalk so much now as flow. He's become a three-dimensional creature of\n\tanimated blood! A blood demon.\n\n\tON", "\t\"His blood will call the Sleeper from \n\t\tbeyond the Veil of Tears.\"\n\n\tBlade stares at Miracia, shaken.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHis blood -- ?\n\n\tThe old woman nods, reaching for a smoldering cigarette.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe Day Walker's blood is a disparador \n\t\t-- a trigger, you see? For LaMagra's \n\t\treturn. One need only consume it and \n\t\tthe", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "'s a red blood cell, an erythrocyte,\n\tspinning in a river of plasma, roaring up Blade's femoral artery,\n\tracing towards the pumping chambers of his heart which beats like the\n\tdeafening breath of God, which blots all other sounds out of\n\texistence and we're --\n\n\tCUTTING BACK AND FORTH NOW\n\n\tbetween Frost's transformation and Blade's, each of them growing\n\tstronger by the second, caught in an ever-in", "s from his chains, head slack, eyes half-lidded and\n\tlusterless. His skin has grown ashen as his life's blood has been\n\tbled away.\n\n\tMercury appears before him, accompanied by Quinn. She bends in close\n\tto kiss Blade lightly on the lips.\n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tIt won't be long now, lover. \n\n\tQuinn draws alongside her, hefting Blade's punching dagger. He places\n\tit against Blade's throat, slowly", "but there's a desperation in his eyes now too. He speaks in\n\tthe secret tongue:\n\n\t\t\t\tDRAGONETTI\n\t\t\t(subtitled)\n\t\tDon't you see, you fools?! He'll \n\t\tbetray you too! He's planning on \n\t\tinvoking LaMagra himself!\n\n\tThe vampires just smile and shake their heads.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tThe wheel turns, old fang. Guess you \n\t\tjust got a little too", "behind\n\tthem, SHATTERING and --\n\n\tFrost and Vanessa HOWL AS ONE, their SCREAMS rising to an unendurable\n\tintensity as the two vampires go nova, exploding into an expanding\n\tball of light and ATOMIZING BLOOD.\n\n\tBlade is thrown back off his feet, having to shield his eyes from the\n\tbacklash of occult energy as a near tidal WAVE of blood surges over\n\thim -- \n\n\tEXT. BANK OF EREBUS - CITY", "the pit.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE OF NIGHT - BLEEDING CHAMBER - NIGHT\n\n\tWe are in a small, elevated antechamber which is situated above the\n\tmain vampire sanctuary.\n\n\tBLADE, \n\n\tnow weakened to the point of collapse, is being lashed to a rack-like\n\tdevice by iron chains. \n\n\tMercury and her cohorts move efficiently, quickly securing him. When\n\tthey are through, the rack is hoisted up into the air via a series of\n", "hush settles upon them. There's an excitement in the air, a sense\n\tthat something remarkable is about to happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tTonight is the night we've waited our \n\t\tentire lives for. Tonight, the \n\t\tblood-dimmed Tide is loosed upon the \n\t\tworld. Tonight, the Age of Man comes \n\t\tto an end. \n\n\tThe vampires bellow out a CHORUS OF CHEERS, their voices resonating\n\toff", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(whispering, urgent)\n\t\tBlade.\n\n\tBlade's eyes flicker open, fixing on her. Inhuman. He's shaking\n\tlike an alcoholic going into delirium tremens.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tVanessa hands Frost the chalice containing Blade's blood. He lifts it\n\tup for all to see. The vampires begin to chant en masse, some long-\n\tforgotten", "\tDragonetti slams his fist down, toppling a carafe, spilling blood\n\tacross the tabletop. Frost looks to the others --\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhy should we spend our lives \n\t\tcringing from the daylight when his \n\t\tblood offers us an alternative? \n\t\tEnough talk. It's time we stepped out \n\t\tof the shadows!\n\n\tDragonetti looks apoplectic. ELDER PALLINTINE, a five-hundred year-\n", "curator --\n\n\tPEARL,\n\n\ta nine-hundred-pound androgynous vampire of Asian origin, lounging\n\tamidst pillowed rice mats, wearing a communications headset. Think of\n\ta cross between Divine and Jabba The Hutt. Skin the complexion of\n\tbuttermilk, so corpulent he can barely move, so engorged with blood\n\tthat he's actually sweating it from the pores of his skin. \n\n\tPearl is surrounded by a nest of mon", "member will pour themselves a glass, or perhaps, help\n\tthemselves to the bowls of human finger bones which serve as snacks.\n\n\tAt the head of the table is GAETANO DRAGONETTI, current vampire\n\t\"Overlord\". Blood-red eyes, parchment skin stretched over skull-like\n\tfeatures. Incalculably ancient, but still deadly and virile as a\n\tviper. \n\n\tDragonetti speaks. He uses the \"secret tongue\" -- the ancient vampire\n\tlanguage which utilizes consonants human", "'s been doubled by the infusion of real blood. And there's\n\tsomething else in his gaze now too -- an animal fury that was missing\n\tbefore. Blade has taken one giant step closer to the darkness. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(hesitant)\n\t\tAre you -- all right?\n\n\tBlade pulls at the chains manacled to his wrists, SNAPPING them apart\n\tlike toys. He flexes his hands -- fingernails lengthening to tapered\n\tpoints. And he smiles", "essed alcoves housing the remains of the\n\tvampire ancients, set into the sanctuary walls like cells in a hive.\n\n\tDEACON FROST\n\n\tstands in the center of the chamber, allowing Vanessa to clothe him\n\tin ceremonial regalia -- gleaming, centuries-old armor. He pauses,\n\tkissing her hungrily.\n\n\tHaving finished suiting up, he turns to face the vampires who have\n\tbeen faithful to his cause -- Mercury, Quinn, a host of others. A\n\t", "'ve seen vampire blood, you don't \n\t\thave it running through your veins.\n\n\tBlade looks at Karen, his lambent eyes glowing in the moonlight.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJust get out of here.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBlade --\n\n\tBlade turns, his eyes glowing with preternatural fury. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI said, GET OUT!!!\n\n\tKaren backs away, startled by Blade" ], [ "\tThis is sodium citrate. It's an \n\t\tanti-coagulant. We use it to treat \n\t\tblood-clots sometimes. Vampire blood \n\t\tis thinner than humans, though. Watch \n\t\twhat happens when I introduce some \n\t\tinto a sample --\n\n\tKaren gestures to the microscope. Blade takes a look --\n\n\tBLADE'S POV\n\n\tVampire blood cells swirling about.\n\n\tKaren injects the contents of the syringe onto", ", resists --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tHold her. \n\n\tBlade forces Karen back. Whistler readies the syringe.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(reading her name tag)\n\t\t\"Dr. Karen Jansen\". Listen close, I'm \n\t\tgoing to inject you with an antidote \n\t\tmade from allium setivum -- garlic. \n\t\tThis is going to hurt. A lot. \n\n\tWhistler sinks the", "the slide of cells --\n\tthe reaction is immediate. The vampire blood turns black, then begins\n\tviolently bubbling.\n\n\tBlade lifts his head away from the microscope just in time -- the\n\tblood on the slide atomizes, exploding outward in a fine mist which\n\tbursts apart the glass lens of the scope. \n\n\tWhistler laughs, thrilled with the results.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tCan you imagine what a dash of that \n\t\twould do on your sword? ", "\t\t-- they're severely allergic to \n\t\tsilver, various types of wood. Feed \n\t\tthem garlic and they'll go into \n\t\tanaphylactic shock -- \n\n\tWhistler picks up a customized rifle with a UV entry light, flicking\n\ton the beam.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t-- and of course there's always \n\t\tsunlight, ultra-violet rays. \n\n\tKaren shakes her head, incredulous -- \n\n\t\t", "turns now, his eyes falling on the medical equipment Karen\n\tbrought from the hospital. He moves to the refrigerator, removing a\n\tcanister labeled \"SODIUM CITRATE\". Then he draws his sword. We can\n\tpractically see the wheels turning within his mind --\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade stands before the open flames of one of the furnaces, heating\n\this sword in the fire. He withdraws it -- it's molten red.\n\n\tBlade turns, dousing the molten hot sword into the sod", "behind\n\tthem, SHATTERING and --\n\n\tFrost and Vanessa HOWL AS ONE, their SCREAMS rising to an unendurable\n\tintensity as the two vampires go nova, exploding into an expanding\n\tball of light and ATOMIZING BLOOD.\n\n\tBlade is thrown back off his feet, having to shield his eyes from the\n\tbacklash of occult energy as a near tidal WAVE of blood surges over\n\thim -- \n\n\tEXT. BANK OF EREBUS - CITY", "needle into Karen's neck and depresses the\n\tplunger. \"Hurt\" doesn't begin to describe what Karen experiences\n\tnext. Imagine undergoing childbirth while someone pumps battery acid\n\tthrough your veins.\n\n\tKaren SHRIEKS, her body going into uncontrolled paroxysms. The wound\n\ton her neck begins to smoke as the antidote attacks the poisonous\n\tvampire venom.\n\n\tKaren clutches at Blade's arms, digging her nails in. She stares up\n\tat", ", coolant vapor hisses out. Inside are plastic bags\n\tcontaining blood. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tLooks like our friend was \n\t\tblood-running.\n\t\t\t(to Gideon)\n\t\tWhere were you headed?\n\n\tGideon mumbles through a split lip and chipped teeth --\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tMphuck you --\n\n\tWHAM! Blade plants Gideon's face into the hood of the car. Gideon\n\tGRO", "RES into the door handle of one of the\n\tunits, tears it open -- the fridge is stacked floor to ceiling with\n\tplastic packets of blood.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(to Karen)\n\t\tStill think we might be wrong?\n\t\t\t(to Tanaka)\n\t\tHow much are you shipping?\n\n\t\t\t\tTANAKA\n\t\tBite me!\n\n\tBlade opens FIRE, sweeping his rifle around the room, shooting\n\teverything in sight. Glass cabinetry shat", "-15 assault rifle with\n\tan ultra-violet entry light, two Casull .454 revolvers, a \"Demon\"\n\tautomatic cross-bow, a bandoleer of mahogany stakes, an Indian-style\n\tkatar punching dagger -- and last, but certainly not least, his\n\tnamesake -- a silver sword which is secured in a back-scabbard.\n\n\tCLOSE ON BLADE\n\n\tA gaze as cold and pitiless as a midnight sun. The vampire club-goers\n\tstare", "with an antiseptic swab -- there's capillary damage\n\taround the perimeter of the wound, the tissue looks bruised,\n\tgangrenous. \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tLocalized necrosis. She's borderline. \n\t\tAnother hour and she'd be well into \n\t\tthe change.\n\n\tWhistler cracks open a smelling salt capsule and waves under Karen's\n\tnose. As she starts to stir --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n", "ise. He opens it -- its lined with tiny\n\tampoules of scarlet-colored serum. Blade pulls one out, holds it up\n\tto the light.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler says I'm building up a \n\t\tresistance to it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tI was afraid that might happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMaybe it's time to start exploring \n\t\tother alternatives.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tThere's", "\t\"His blood will call the Sleeper from \n\t\tbeyond the Veil of Tears.\"\n\n\tBlade stares at Miracia, shaken.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHis blood -- ?\n\n\tThe old woman nods, reaching for a smoldering cigarette.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThe Day Walker's blood is a disparador \n\t\t-- a trigger, you see? For LaMagra's \n\t\treturn. One need only consume it and \n\t\tthe", ".\n\n\tQuinn responds with a slew of rapid-fire vampire invectives. Blade\n\tsees he's getting nowhere fast, calmly sheathes his sword. He unclips\n\ta white phosphorous grenade from his combat harness -- \n\n\t\t\t\tQUINN\n\t\tYou won't stop him, Blade. The Tide's \n\t\trising, the Sleeper's gonna --\n\n\tBlade shoves the grenade in Quinn's mouth, pulls the pin. WHO", "ics -- but the end result is little more than\n\tan annoyance. A second later, Gideon is simply blinking, sniffing his\n\tfingers, confused --\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tGarlic?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tHe said it would work against \n\t\tvampires --\n\n\tGideon bursts out laughing.\n\n\t\t\t\tGIDEON\n\t\tWho said I was a vampire? \n\n\tGideon shakes his head, still snickering", "his fangs into Karen's carotid artery and\n\tstarts to nurse --\n\n\tBANG!!! A load of MAHOGANY buckshot chews into Quinn's side. He HOWLS\n\tin pain. Another load catches him full in the face. He drops Karen.\n\tShe falls to the floor -- \n\n\tKAREN'S POV\n\n\tThe sound of RUSHING BLOOD pounding through her skull. Everything\n\tspinning. She struggles to move, turns her head, finds herself eye to\n\teye with Curt", "ADE\n\t\t\t(frustrated)\n\t\tI need help with this --\n\n\tKaren nods, inserting the ampoule into the gun. Blade shrugs off his\n\tjacket, holds out his arm. Karen pauses --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat am I injecting you with?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(weakly)\n\t\tSerum -- it's a human hemoglobin \n\t\tsubstitute.\n\n\tKaren locates a", "\t\tCan you hear me, woman? \n\n\tKaren's eyes open wide. She's scared, disoriented --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat -- ?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou've been bitten by a vampire. We've \n\t\tgot to try and burn out the venom, \n\t\tjust like a rattlesnake bite --\n\n\tWhistler reaches for a massive syringe filled with caustic-looking\n\tfluid. Karen sees the syringe", "\n\tis soaked in blood. She reaches for him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're hurt --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNothing that won't heal by dawn.\n\n\tBlade reaches into his jacket and pulls out the small, gas-powered\n\tpistol-injector we saw Whistler inject him with earlier. He tries to\n\tload one of the ampoules into it, but because of his wounds, he's not\n\thaving much luck -- \n\n\t\t\t\tBL", "ters, ampoules and\n\tvacutainers go flying. Tanaka cowers, arms wrapped about his head.\n\n\tBlade stops shooting. He leans down towards Tanaka, placing the end\n\tof his rifle against the man's forehead. Tanaka looks like he's about\n\tto wet his pants.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI've got a message for your masters -- \n\t\tthe night's no longer safe for their \n\t\tkind.\n\n\tBlade pulls back his rifle, leaving a red indent" ], [ "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy didn't you tell me the truth \n\t\tabout him?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tWe weren't sure we could trust you.\n\n\tWhistler sighs, removing his glasses.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's mother was attacked by a \n\t\tvampire while she was pregnant. \n\t\tUltimately, she died, but her unborn \n\t\tchild lived. Unfortunately, he'd \n\t\tunder", "\n\t\twoman on her way home alone. You were \n\t\tconceived the night I tore my fangs \n\t\tinto your mother's flesh. \n\n\tFrost swings his fist into Blade's skull. Everything goes black. \n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. ARMORED TRUCK - NIGHT\n\n\tFADE IN as Blade opens his eyes, still groggy, his face beaded with\n\tsweat. Feverish. His hands have been bound tightly behind his back\n\twith manacles and", "\n\n\tAs the mist clears, revealing the occupant within, Blade raises his\n\tsword, ready to plunge it downward -- only it's not Deacon Frost who\n\trests beneath him, it's --\n\n\tVANESSA,\n\n\tBlade's mother!!! Although some thirty years have passed since the\n\tevents of our prologue, Vanessa looks exactly the same -- vibrant,\n\tbeautiful, full of life. Her eyes open.\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tJ", "falters, his mind reeling. What he's seeing is incomprehensible\n\t-- his mother is dead. Yet, here she is in the flesh, reaching out to\n\thim and --\n\n\t-- flashing a mouthful of viper-like fangs! She SNARLS and strikes,\n\tbrutally raking her claws across Blade's face, knocking the sword\n\tfrom his grasp --\n\n\tA TRIO OF BLACK-CLAD VAMPIRES\n\n\tled by Mercury step from the shadows where they'd been waiting", "\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n BLADE\n -----\n\n\n\n\n\n by\n \n David S. Goyer\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\tDarkness, BLOOD-CURDLING SCREAMS. Presentation credits roll as we\n\tFADE UP ON:\n\n\tINT. HOSPITAL, INNER-CITY TRAUMA WARD - NIGHT\n\n\tIt's 1967, the Summer of Love and --", "\t\tthen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't have a few minutes, Frost.\n\n\tFrost eyes Blade warily, then lunges towards Vanessa, sweeping behind\n\ther. Blade follows, but even as he raises his sword to strike, Frost\n\tspins Vanessa around, using her body as a shield!\n\n\tBlade hesitates, stopping the sword in mid-strike, catching his\n\tmother's gaze -- her face is monstrous now, scarred by Karen's\n\tpo", "\t\tvampire who fathered you. Well you can \n\t\trest easy now, you've found him.\n\t\t\t(gripping Blade's chin)\n\t\tDaddy's here.\n\n\tBlade's eyes widen in shock. Frost simply laughs.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tIt's true, Blade. You've got my blood \n\t\trunning through your veins.\n\t\t\t(smiling)\n\t\tThirty years ago. A moonlit street, a ", "dark in here.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou get used to the darkness.\n\n\tKaren takes a step towards him.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhistler told me about your mother. \n\n\tBlade clutches the silver locket in his hand. It swings back and\n\tforth, like a pendulum.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't close my eyes without hearing \n\t\ther scream.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t", "Blade rushes to the wall, cutting Whistler down with his sword,\n\tgently lowering him to the floor. As he cradles the old man in his\n\tarms, Blade sees the primary wound -- two ragged puncture marks along\n\tWhistler's throat.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tJesus, Whistler, what did they do to \n\t\tyou?\n\n\tWhistler opens his eyes, struggling to speak --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tFrost took her --", "\tThere's no use fighting us, Jason. \n\n\tBlade looks up, focusing now on --\n\n\tVANESSA, \n\n\twho has remained behind. Blade stares at her. As terrible as his\n\tphysical torment is, his mother's betrayal is infinitely worse.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHow could you be a part of this?\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tThese are my people now. I'm one of \n\t\tthem.\n\n\t", "K\n\n\tWindy. Urban desolation. Blade stands on the perimeter of a sprawling\n\tcardboard and plywood squatter's ghetto which has sprung up around\n\tthe city dump. CHILDREN and DOGS forage for salvageable items, while\n\tin the distance, dumptrucks grind over the dunes of refuse.\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade is winding his way through the maze of makeshift homes and\n\tashcan fires. A CROWD quickly closes in", "\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou don't have to be. \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYou don't understand. I've killed, \n\t\tI've hunted, and I've enjoyed it. \n\n\tShe draws closer, caressing her son's face. There's just a hint of\n\tcreepy eroticism in her action, a dash of incest. \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tI wish you could see the world as I \n", "gone certain genetic changes \n\t\twhile in the womb --\n\n\tWhistler reaches for a pack of cigarettes, pulls one out. He thumbs a\n\tmatch, fires up. Takes a long drag --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tI found Blade when he was thirteen. \n\t\tHe'd been living on the streets, \n\t\tfeeding off the homeless. Apparently \n\t\tthe Thirst manifested itself at \n\t\tpuberty -- \n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tI took", "chain. She reaches for it, opens it --\n\n\tThe locket features a photo, old and faded. It's the black woman we\n\tsaw in the prologue, Vanessa, standing in the sunshine. \n\n\tKaren moves towards the door, cautious -- \n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY\n\n\tWe hear VOICES now, coming from beyond a series of black-out\n\tcurtains. Karen pushes one aside and SEES --\n\n\tBLADE\n\n\tstrapped", "\t\tdo. Deacon opened my eyes. There's no \n\t\tturning back from that.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI don't believe that.\n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYou will. Time is on our side. Sooner \n\t\tor later, the Thirst always wins.\n\n\tVanessa turns away now. Blade cries after her --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMother!\n\n\tVanessa pauses, looking back, smiling cruelly", ". There's \n\t\tanother world beneath it, the real \n\t\tworld -- and it's a fucking bloodbath. \n\t\tIf you want to survive in it, you'd \n\t\tbetter pull your head out of your ass. \n\n\tBlade slips his glasses back on, leaving Karen shocked into silence.\n\tHe heads for his Olds without looking back, climbs in, guns the\n\tengine. In seconds, he's gone, tearing off down the street in a cloud\n\tof exhaust.\n\n\tEXT", "'m sorry.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou make it sound like I'm already \n\t\tdead.\n\n\tBlade just stares at her. Finally, she pulls away.\n\n\tEXT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DUSK\n\n\tCLOSE ON Karen as she moves to the grimy outer windows, watching the\n\tsun go down, an unmistakable look of dread creeping over her.\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tEXT. LANDFILL GHETTO - DUS", "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro", "He lowers his\n\thead --\n\n\t-- and starts to feed. Karen involuntarily stiffens as Blade's teeth\n\tpuncture her skin and we --\n\n\tCUT TO:\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tFrost shakes, possessed by an unseen force. A wind picks up from\n\tnowhere, swirling about the chamber, accompanied by a strange\n\tHUMMING. \n\n\tSuddenly, one of the tombs BURSTS OPEN. A WRAITH", "his fist. Blade struggles to reach Frost,\n\tstretching a palsied hand upwards --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tPlease -- \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tListen to your father, Jason. It's \n\t\tgoing to be a better world.\n\n\tBlade stares at Vanessa uncomprehending. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tDon't look so surprised, Blade. You've \n\t\tspent your life looking for the \n" ], [ "t respond. Instead she looks away. How in the world is\n\tshe supposed to tell him this?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tIt won't work on you.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhat are you talking about?\n\n\tKaren forces herself to meet his gaze.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYour condition's congenital, the \n\t\tgenetic mutations occurred in utero. \n\t\tAll the other victims contracted \n\t", "\tvampirism after birth. \n\n\tBlade stares at Karen, disbelieving. Who could imagine a more\n\thorrifying irony? She's crying now. She can't help it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI can't cure you, Blade. I can cure \n\t\tmyself, but I can't cure you.\n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tI'm so sorry.\n\n\tBlade's head sinks, the last vestiges of hope draining out of him", "think \n\t\tthis could work?\n\n\tKaren pauses -- we can see in her expression that there's something\n\tshe's been holding back.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tOn me, yes. On Blade, I'm not so \n\t\tsure -- \n\t\t\t(gravely)\n\t\tThe problem is, Blade didn't contract \n\t\tthe vampire virus from a bite like I \n\t\tdid. He was born with it. The irony \n\t\tis, I could probably", ", resists --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tHold her. \n\n\tBlade forces Karen back. Whistler readies the syringe.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(reading her name tag)\n\t\t\"Dr. Karen Jansen\". Listen close, I'm \n\t\tgoing to inject you with an antidote \n\t\tmade from allium setivum -- garlic. \n\t\tThis is going to hurt. A lot. \n\n\tWhistler sinks the", "trip to the hospital last \n\t\tnight, borrowed some equipment.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(sarcastic)\n\t\tFor your miracle cure? \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tShe's been making real progress, \n\t\tBlade.\n\t\t\t(to Karen)\n\t\tShow him --\n\n\tKaren looks to Blade, who shrugs. She opens a refrigerator, removing\n\ta syringe filled with blue fluid.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t", "needle into Karen's neck and depresses the\n\tplunger. \"Hurt\" doesn't begin to describe what Karen experiences\n\tnext. Imagine undergoing childbirth while someone pumps battery acid\n\tthrough your veins.\n\n\tKaren SHRIEKS, her body going into uncontrolled paroxysms. The wound\n\ton her neck begins to smoke as the antidote attacks the poisonous\n\tvampire venom.\n\n\tKaren clutches at Blade's arms, digging her nails in. She stares up\n\tat", "No --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIt's the only way. You know that. \n\t\tWe'll never get out of here alive if \n\t\tyou don't.\n\n\tBlade suppresses a shudder. Simply keeping himself from attacking her\n\ttakes every ounce of his resolve.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI can't -- I won't be able to stop --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYes you will. The human side of you is \n\t\t", "a cure for myself.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThere is no cure. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(defiant)\n\t\tYou don't know that.\n\n\tBlade turns and moves to the end of the alley, studying the graffiti-\n\tcovered wall intently --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat are you looking at?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(gesturing)\n\t\tWhat do you see here?\n\n\t\t\t\t", "\n\n\tWhistler claps his hand on Karen's shoulder in approval, then limps\n\taway, quickly busying himself with another project. Blade moves to\n\tfollow, but Karen stops him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBefore you go, I'd like to take a \n\t\tsample of your blood.\n\n\tBlade grudgingly rolls up his sleeve. As Karen takes her sample,\n\tBlade looks to Whistler. The older man brings a handkerchief to his\n\tlips, coughing into it.", "(shaking her head)\n\t\tI don't know. I woke up just before \n\t\tyou did --\n\n\tAs he struggles to sit up, she crosses over to him. Blade shuts his\n\teyes for a moment, fighting a wave of pain.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIs it bad?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tWe get out of this alive, maybe I'll \n\t\ttake that miracle cure of yours.\n\n\tKaren doesn'", "\t\tBLADE (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's started.\n\n\tKaren spins, startled. Blade stands behind her. He grips her jaw,\n\tturning her head so he can better view the wound.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou've got another day or two at most.\n\n\tKaren nods, shaken. As she moves to leave, Blade reaches for her arm,\n\tstopping her.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFor what it's worth, I", "\n\tof insanity.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI was wrong about you, Blade. You were \n\t\tnever one of us. You're a traitor to \n\t\tyour race. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN (O.S.)\n\t\tGet away from him!\n\n\tFrost looks up -- Karen is wielding Blade's sword. She brings it down\n\ton Frost, severing the blood-tendrils which envelope Blade. The\n\tblood-bubble diss", "ADE\n\t\t\t(frustrated)\n\t\tI need help with this --\n\n\tKaren nods, inserting the ampoule into the gun. Blade shrugs off his\n\tjacket, holds out his arm. Karen pauses --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat am I injecting you with?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(weakly)\n\t\tSerum -- it's a human hemoglobin \n\t\tsubstitute.\n\n\tKaren locates a", "\t\t\t(appraising her)\n\t\tMaybe not. I did some checking, she's \n\t\ta hematologist. Knowledge like that \n\t\tmight come in handy.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tIt's not worth the risk. We can't \n\t\ttrust her.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhy?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tBecause you're tainted. The venom's \n\t\tstill inside you. You could still ", "turns now, his eyes falling on the medical equipment Karen\n\tbrought from the hospital. He moves to the refrigerator, removing a\n\tcanister labeled \"SODIUM CITRATE\". Then he draws his sword. We can\n\tpractically see the wheels turning within his mind --\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade stands before the open flames of one of the furnaces, heating\n\this sword in the fire. He withdraws it -- it's molten red.\n\n\tBlade turns, dousing the molten hot sword into the sod", "\n\tis soaked in blood. She reaches for him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're hurt --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNothing that won't heal by dawn.\n\n\tBlade reaches into his jacket and pulls out the small, gas-powered\n\tpistol-injector we saw Whistler inject him with earlier. He tries to\n\tload one of the ampoules into it, but because of his wounds, he's not\n\thaving much luck -- \n\n\t\t\t\tBL", "\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIs he sick?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tCancer.\n\n\tKaren watches as Blade's blood flows into the vacutainer. She fills\n\tthe first, then inserts another. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou care about him, don't you? \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWe've got a good arrangement, that's \n\t\tall. Whistler makes the weapons, I use \n", "flicker of doubt washes across Blade's face. He looks down at Karen\n\tonce more, wrestling with his conscience, finally making a decision.\n\tHe kneels, scoops Karen up into his arms. Just then, \n\n\tTWO POLICEMEN \n\n\trush into the morgue, weapons drawn --\n\n\t\t\t\tUNIFORM #1\n\t\tHold it, ass-hole!\n\n\tBlade ignores them, turning to face the window before him. It's a\n\tgood thirty feet to the", "Whistler turns and\n\theads over to the operating theater.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tNo promises. You watch her close. She \n\t\tstarts to turn, you finish her off.\n\n\tBlade nods, lays Karen down on the operating table. Whistler turns on\n\tan overhead light. Karen is sheathed in sweat, ashen. She's lost a\n\tlot of blood.\n\n\tWhistler snaps on a pair of surgical gloves, probes the wound in\n\tKaren's neck", "\t\tthem, the vampires die -- end of \n\t\tstory.\n\n\tKaren finishes. Blade rolls up his sleeve.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tMy mother used to say that a cold \n\t\theart is a dead heart.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYour mother sounds like a Hallmark \n\t\tgreeting card. \n\n\tBlade slips his Casulls into a shoulder holster, then shrugs into his\n\tleather jacket, don" ], [ "a cure for myself.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThere is no cure. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(defiant)\n\t\tYou don't know that.\n\n\tBlade turns and moves to the end of the alley, studying the graffiti-\n\tcovered wall intently --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat are you looking at?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(gesturing)\n\t\tWhat do you see here?\n\n\t\t\t\t", "turns now, his eyes falling on the medical equipment Karen\n\tbrought from the hospital. He moves to the refrigerator, removing a\n\tcanister labeled \"SODIUM CITRATE\". Then he draws his sword. We can\n\tpractically see the wheels turning within his mind --\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade stands before the open flames of one of the furnaces, heating\n\this sword in the fire. He withdraws it -- it's molten red.\n\n\tBlade turns, dousing the molten hot sword into the sod", "turns to Mercury, who's been holding Blade's scabbarded sword.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tLet's see this sword of his.\n\n\tMercury draws the sword, handing it to Frost. He sights down the\n\tlength of it, testing its weight. With a flick of his wrist, he\n\tlashes out, slashing Blade's cheek open. \n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tStill quite sharp, I see.\n\n\tBlade feebly struggles to rise. Fro", "(shaking her head)\n\t\tI don't know. I woke up just before \n\t\tyou did --\n\n\tAs he struggles to sit up, she crosses over to him. Blade shuts his\n\teyes for a moment, fighting a wave of pain.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIs it bad?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(nodding)\n\t\tWe get out of this alive, maybe I'll \n\t\ttake that miracle cure of yours.\n\n\tKaren doesn'", "\n\n\tWhistler claps his hand on Karen's shoulder in approval, then limps\n\taway, quickly busying himself with another project. Blade moves to\n\tfollow, but Karen stops him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBefore you go, I'd like to take a \n\t\tsample of your blood.\n\n\tBlade grudgingly rolls up his sleeve. As Karen takes her sample,\n\tBlade looks to Whistler. The older man brings a handkerchief to his\n\tlips, coughing into it.", "rost cocks his head to the side, studying Blade's face.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tI don't blame you, though. I want you \n\t\tto know that. Even after all you've \n\t\tdone. I understand, Blade, I really \n\t\tdo. It's the human side of you which \n\t\thas corrupted your reasoning, made you \n\t\tweak. But we'll take care of that, \n\t\twon't we?\n\n\tBlade struggles to lift his", "t respond. Instead she looks away. How in the world is\n\tshe supposed to tell him this?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tIt won't work on you.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhat are you talking about?\n\n\tKaren forces herself to meet his gaze.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYour condition's congenital, the \n\t\tgenetic mutations occurred in utero. \n\t\tAll the other victims contracted \n\t", "trip to the hospital last \n\t\tnight, borrowed some equipment.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(sarcastic)\n\t\tFor your miracle cure? \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tShe's been making real progress, \n\t\tBlade.\n\t\t\t(to Karen)\n\t\tShow him --\n\n\tKaren looks to Blade, who shrugs. She opens a refrigerator, removing\n\ta syringe filled with blue fluid.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t", "\t\t(shrugging)\n\t\tYou can slice him, you can dice him, \n\t\tand the man just keeps on coming. \n\n\tBlade struggles violently, but Quinn is upon him, pounding his fist\n\tinto Blade again and again and again -- giving him payback with\n\tcompounded interest. When it's over, Quinn steps back, winded -- \n\n\tBlade's head hangs down. He gasps, wincing, every breath sending a\n\tred hot poker to his gut. Quinn grabs a hold of", "s from his chains, head slack, eyes half-lidded and\n\tlusterless. His skin has grown ashen as his life's blood has been\n\tbled away.\n\n\tMercury appears before him, accompanied by Quinn. She bends in close\n\tto kiss Blade lightly on the lips.\n\n\t\t\t\tMERCURY\n\t\tIt won't be long now, lover. \n\n\tQuinn draws alongside her, hefting Blade's punching dagger. He places\n\tit against Blade's throat, slowly", "atches attentively. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tHow's it going, Kam?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\t\t(re: calendar)\n\t\tYou're a week early.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tI was in the neighborhood.\n\n\tKam sets his fruit bowl aside, leads Blade through a curtain into a\n\tback room.\n\n\tINT. HERBALIST SHOP, BACK ROOM - DAY\n\n\tKam hands Blade a leather val", "\n\n\tWhistler spasms and coughs, wincing from the pain.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tDon't try to talk --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tListen. You have to -- finish me off. \n\t\tYou don't want me coming back.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNo, we can treat the wounds --\n\n\tBut Whistler is shaking his hand.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tToo far gone, you know that.\n", "\n\tlined with wrinkles and his hair has long since gone gray, we sense\n\the could kick the living shit out of any man half his age. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tShe's been bitten.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tYou should've killed her, then.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tShe hasn't turned yet. \n\t\t\t(pointedly)\n\t\tYou can help her.\n\n\tBlade and Whistler stare each other down. Finally,", "\tvampirism after birth. \n\n\tBlade stares at Karen, disbelieving. Who could imagine a more\n\thorrifying irony? She's crying now. She can't help it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI can't cure you, Blade. I can cure \n\t\tmyself, but I can't cure you.\n\t\t\t(beat)\n\t\tI'm so sorry.\n\n\tBlade's head sinks, the last vestiges of hope draining out of him", "\t\tBLADE (O.S.)\n\t\tIt's started.\n\n\tKaren spins, startled. Blade stands behind her. He grips her jaw,\n\tturning her head so he can better view the wound.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou've got another day or two at most.\n\n\tKaren nods, shaken. As she moves to leave, Blade reaches for her arm,\n\tstopping her.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tFor what it's worth, I", "ise. He opens it -- its lined with tiny\n\tampoules of scarlet-colored serum. Blade pulls one out, holds it up\n\tto the light.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler says I'm building up a \n\t\tresistance to it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tI was afraid that might happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMaybe it's time to start exploring \n\t\tother alternatives.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tThere's", "Whistler turns and\n\theads over to the operating theater.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tNo promises. You watch her close. She \n\t\tstarts to turn, you finish her off.\n\n\tBlade nods, lays Karen down on the operating table. Whistler turns on\n\tan overhead light. Karen is sheathed in sweat, ashen. She's lost a\n\tlot of blood.\n\n\tWhistler snaps on a pair of surgical gloves, probes the wound in\n\tKaren's neck", "of gold-capped\n\tteeth and cataract-clouded eyes. Blind.\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tIs something wrong, my friend?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYou're blind --\n\n\t\t\t\tMIRACIA\n\t\tThere are other ways to see. Sit.\n\n\tBlade approaches, uneasy. Miracia deals out the playing cards on a\n\trickety table, setting them in nine piles which take on a cross\n\tformation. \n\n\t\t\t\t", "\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(whispering, urgent)\n\t\tBlade.\n\n\tBlade's eyes flicker open, fixing on her. Inhuman. He's shaking\n\tlike an alcoholic going into delirium tremens.\n\n\tINT. TEMPLE SANCTUARY - NIGHT\n\n\tVanessa hands Frost the chalice containing Blade's blood. He lifts it\n\tup for all to see. The vampires begin to chant en masse, some long-\n\tforgotten", "alone when he's \n\t\tlike this.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI'll take my chances.\n\n\tINT. BLADE'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n\tKaren enters. It's dark, just a trace of moonlight.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tBlade?\n\n\tNo answer. Then Karen SEES him -- crouched in the corner of the room\n\tlike some kind of nocturnal animal.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tIt's" ], [ "ADE\n\t\t\t(frustrated)\n\t\tI need help with this --\n\n\tKaren nods, inserting the ampoule into the gun. Blade shrugs off his\n\tjacket, holds out his arm. Karen pauses --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat am I injecting you with?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(weakly)\n\t\tSerum -- it's a human hemoglobin \n\t\tsubstitute.\n\n\tKaren locates a", "into some kind of Inquisition-esque restraint chair. His\n\tshirt is off, his body slick with sweat. Whistler finishes strapping\n\tBlade in, then stands back, holding up a gas-powered pistol injector,\n\thesitant --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER \n\t\tI had to increase the dose. You're \n\t\tbuilding up a resistance to the \n\t\tserum --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(impatient)\n\t\tJust do it, old man", "\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tBlade's unique, you know. A one in a \n\t\tbillion anomaly. He can withstand \n\t\tsunlight, garlic, even silver. But he \n\t\tstill has the Thirst. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tWhat happens if he doesn't take the \n\t\tserum?\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tThe Thirst overcomes him, just like \n\t\tthe others. It's not something he", "ise. He opens it -- its lined with tiny\n\tampoules of scarlet-colored serum. Blade pulls one out, holds it up\n\tto the light.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhistler says I'm building up a \n\t\tresistance to it.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tI was afraid that might happen.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tMaybe it's time to start exploring \n\t\tother alternatives.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAM\n\t\tThere's", "vein, presses the injector against it -- Blade\n\ttenses, grits his teeth, fights to keep his body thrashing as the\n\tserum enters his bloodstream. He grips the wall behind him --\n\tactually digs his nails into the metal surface -- the agony he's\n\tgoing through is excruciating, like nothing we could imagine. \n\n\tWhen it's over, he slumps forward, spent, vulnerable, flushed with\n\tsweat. Karen stares at him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n", "\n\tis soaked in blood. She reaches for him --\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYou're hurt --\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tNothing that won't heal by dawn.\n\n\tBlade reaches into his jacket and pulls out the small, gas-powered\n\tpistol-injector we saw Whistler inject him with earlier. He tries to\n\tload one of the ampoules into it, but because of his wounds, he's not\n\thaving much luck -- \n\n\t\t\t\tBL", "trip to the hospital last \n\t\tnight, borrowed some equipment.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\t\t(sarcastic)\n\t\tFor your miracle cure? \n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tShe's been making real progress, \n\t\tBlade.\n\t\t\t(to Karen)\n\t\tShow him --\n\n\tKaren looks to Blade, who shrugs. She opens a refrigerator, removing\n\ta syringe filled with blue fluid.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t", ".\n\n\tWhistler nods, fitting Blade with a bite guard. Then he presses the\n\tpistol-injector against Blade's carotid artery. \n\n\tBlade shakes violently, grinding his teeth through the bite guard,\n\tveins cording in his neck. He clutches Whistler's hand, holding it\n\ttightly as he fights his way through the hellish seizure. To his\n\tcredit, Whistler never lets go.\n\n\tMentor and student stare at one another as", "turns now, his eyes falling on the medical equipment Karen\n\tbrought from the hospital. He moves to the refrigerator, removing a\n\tcanister labeled \"SODIUM CITRATE\". Then he draws his sword. We can\n\tpractically see the wheels turning within his mind --\n\n\tMOMENTS LATER,\n\n\tBlade stands before the open flames of one of the furnaces, heating\n\this sword in the fire. He withdraws it -- it's molten red.\n\n\tBlade turns, dousing the molten hot sword into the sod", "\tBlade emerges from his room, looks to Karen. As if by silent\n\tagreement, last night's words go unacknowledged. He straps on his\n\tbandoleer of stakes, secures his scabbard.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tGoing somewhere?\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tChina Town. I need more serum.\n\t\t\t(re: new equipment)\n\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tI made a", "rush from that pasteurized \n\t\tpiss-serum of yours?\n\t\t\t(off Blade's look)\n\t\tYou're surprised I know about your \n\t\tserum? You shouldn't be. I know \n\t\teverything about you. \n\n\tFrost leans forward, grinning.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tYou can't keep walking the razor's \n\t\tedge, Blade. The day will come -- and \n\t\tsoon, when you'll have", "the mysterious serum runs\n\tits violent course. We understand that these shared moments, oddly\n\tprivate in their horror, are the glue which binds the two vampire\n\thunters together. Finally, Blade slumps forward in his restraints,\n\texhausted. \n\n\tKAREN\n\n\tShe draws back, instinctively knowing that she's just witnessed\n\tsomething she shouldn't have. She looks for an exit, SEES another\n\tdoorway. She makes for it -- \n\n\tINT. WHISTLER'S LAB", "only one alternative to the \n\t\tserum.\n\n\tBlade nods. They both know what that \"alternative\" is. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tYeah. I know.\n\n\tBlade closes the valise and tucks it inside his jacket. \n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tThanks, Kam.\n\t\t\t(thinking)\n\t\tOne other thing. Have you ever heard \n\t\tof a vampire called the Sleeper?\n\n\tKam shakes his head. Bl", "t respond. Instead she looks away. How in the world is\n\tshe supposed to tell him this?\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(quietly)\n\t\tIt won't work on you.\n\n\t\t\t\tBLADE\n\t\tWhat are you talking about?\n\n\tKaren forces herself to meet his gaze.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tYour condition's congenital, the \n\t\tgenetic mutations occurred in utero. \n\t\tAll the other victims contracted \n\t", ", resists --\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tHold her. \n\n\tBlade forces Karen back. Whistler readies the syringe.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\t\t(reading her name tag)\n\t\t\"Dr. Karen Jansen\". Listen close, I'm \n\t\tgoing to inject you with an antidote \n\t\tmade from allium setivum -- garlic. \n\t\tThis is going to hurt. A lot. \n\n\tWhistler sinks the", "'s been doubled by the infusion of real blood. And there's\n\tsomething else in his gaze now too -- an animal fury that was missing\n\tbefore. Blade has taken one giant step closer to the darkness. \n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\t\t(hesitant)\n\t\tAre you -- all right?\n\n\tBlade pulls at the chains manacled to his wrists, SNAPPING them apart\n\tlike toys. He flexes his hands -- fingernails lengthening to tapered\n\tpoints. And he smiles", "\n\t\tYou love me, don't you, Vanessa? \n\n\t\t\t\tVANESSA\n\t\tYes.\n\n\tFrost kisses Vanessa hungrily. Then he kneels and reaches into\n\tBlade's jacket, retrieving a vial of Blade's serum.\n\n\t\t\t\tFROST\n\t\tWhat do we have here? Your precious \n\t\tserum? I don't think you'll be needing \n\t\tthis anymore.\n\n\tFrost crushes the vial in", "think \n\t\tthis could work?\n\n\tKaren pauses -- we can see in her expression that there's something\n\tshe's been holding back.\n\n\t\t\t\tKAREN\n\t\tOn me, yes. On Blade, I'm not so \n\t\tsure -- \n\t\t\t(gravely)\n\t\tThe problem is, Blade didn't contract \n\t\tthe vampire virus from a bite like I \n\t\tdid. He was born with it. The irony \n\t\tis, I could probably", "needle into Karen's neck and depresses the\n\tplunger. \"Hurt\" doesn't begin to describe what Karen experiences\n\tnext. Imagine undergoing childbirth while someone pumps battery acid\n\tthrough your veins.\n\n\tKaren SHRIEKS, her body going into uncontrolled paroxysms. The wound\n\ton her neck begins to smoke as the antidote attacks the poisonous\n\tvampire venom.\n\n\tKaren clutches at Blade's arms, digging her nails in. She stares up\n\tat", "the slide of cells --\n\tthe reaction is immediate. The vampire blood turns black, then begins\n\tviolently bubbling.\n\n\tBlade lifts his head away from the microscope just in time -- the\n\tblood on the slide atomizes, exploding outward in a fine mist which\n\tbursts apart the glass lens of the scope. \n\n\tWhistler laughs, thrilled with the results.\n\n\t\t\t\tWHISTLER\n\t\tCan you imagine what a dash of that \n\t\twould do on your sword? " ] ]

[ "What is the name of the owner of the Rave club that blade raids?", "Who treats hematologist Kareb Jensen?", "What is the two elemental weeknesses that Blade and Whistler employ against the vampires?", "What is the name of the leader ot the faction of younger vampires?", "What name is given to a human slave controled by a vampire?", "What is the name of a anticoagulant that explodes when combined with vampire blood?", "What is the name of the vampire blood god?", "Who does Blade atempt to sve form Frosts Penthouse?", "How does Blade kill frost?", "What is Karen Jenson's job title?", "What is the name of the drug that Blade uses to kill Frost?", "How does Blade learn about the vampire history archive?", "Who is Whistler to Blade? ", "Where was Blade taken by Frost to summon the vampire blood god? ", "Why did Blade and Whistler tell Karen she she needed to leave the city? ", "How did Blade's mother die during his birth? ", "Why is the treatment Blade uses to control his desire to drink blood becoming less effective? ", "What is the name of the owner of the nightclub that Blade raided? ", "What job does the familiar who attacked Karen have? ", "What are the elemental weaknesses of vampires?", "Who is the leader of the faction of younger vampires who strips the elders of their authority?", "Why are Frost and his kind considered inferior?", "What is the term used to describe a human slave controlled by a vampire?", "Who is the vampire blood god?", "What is the name of the anticoagulant that explodes when it comes into contact with vampire blood?", "In what year is Blade's mother attacked while giving birth?", "Karen synthesizes a vaccine that can cure the infected, but why does it not work on Blade?", "Who offers to cure Blade?", "What is the special serum Blade injects himself with supposed to do?" ]

[ [ "Decon Frost", "Deacon Frost." ], [ "Abraham Whistler", "Abraham Whistler." ], [ "Sunlight and silver", "Silver and Sunlight." ], [ "Frost", "Frost" ], [ "Familiar", "Familiar" ], [ "EDTA", "EDTA." ], [ "La Magra", "La Magra" ], [ "Karen", "Karen Jenson." ], [ "Injects him with the syringes.", "injection" ], [ "Hematologist. ", "Hematologist" ], [ "EDTA", "EDTA" ], [ "From the familiar. ", "THROUGH A FAMILIAR" ], [ "An old friend.", "He is an old friend" ], [ "The Temple of Eternal Night. ", "Temple of Eternal Night." ], [ "Because she had been marked by the vampire bite. ", "because she is marked" ], [ "Infection. ", "A VAMPIRE ATTACK" ], [ "Overuse. ", "Because of overuse." ], [ "Deacon Frost. ", "Deacon Frost." ], [ "Police Officer", "Policeman" ], [ "sunlight and silver", "Sunlight and silver." ], [ "Frost", "Frost" ], [ "Because they were not born as vampires", "BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT PURE BLOODS" ], [ "Familiar", "Familiar." ], [ "La Magra", "LA MAGRA" ], [ "EDTA", "EDTA" ], [ "1967", "1967." ], [ "Because he is a vampire-Human hybrid", "He is a human-vampire hybrid." ], [ "Karen", "Karen." ], [ "It keeps him from needing to drink blood", "Prevents him from giving in to desire to drink human blood." ] ]

[ [ "ficially how a battle is won;\nwhat they cannot see is the long series of plans and combinations\nwhich has preceded the battle.]\n\n 28. Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one\nvictory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite\nvariety of circumstances.\n\n [As Wang Hsi sagely remarks: \"There is but one root-\nprinciple underlying victory, but the tactics which lead up to it\nare infinite in number.\" With this compare Col. Henderson: \"The\nrules of strategy are few and", "\nThe general who loses a battle makes but few calculations\nbeforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few\ncalculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It\nis by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to\nwin or lose.\n\n\n[1] \"Words on Wellington,\" by Sir. W. Fraser.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nII. WAGING WAR\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung has the note: \"He who wishes to fight must", "you are kept informed of the enemy's condition, and are ready to\nstrike at the right moment, a war may drag on for years. The\nonly way to get this information is to employ spies, and it is\nimpossible to obtain trustworthy spies unless they are properly\npaid for their services. But it is surely false economy to\ngrudge a comparatively trifling amount for this purpose, when\nevery day that the war lasts eats up an incalculably greater sum.\nThis grievous burden falls on the shoulders of the poor, and", "in chariot fighting, when ten or more\nchariots have been taken, those should be rewarded who took the\nfirst. Our own flags should be substituted for those of the\nenemy, and the chariots mingled and used in conjunction with\nours. The captured soldiers should be kindly treated and kept.\n 18. This is called, using the conquered foe to augment\none's own strength.\n 19. In war, then, let your great object be victory, not\nlengthy campaigns.\n\n ", "ange country. But it is quite a moot question whether his\ntactics would have proved successful in the long run. Their\nreversal it is true, led to Cannae; but this only establishes a\nnegative presumption in their favor.]\n\n 6. There is no instance of a country having benefited from\nprolonged warfare.\n 7. It is only one who is thoroughly acquainted with the\nevils of war that can thoroughly understand the profitable way of\ncarrying it on.\n\n [That is, with rapidity. ", "of which his success\ndepends, are: (1) to capture our favorable positions; (2) to\nravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard his own communications.\"\nOur object then must be to thwart his plans in these three\ndirections and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. ss. 3.] By\nboldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the\nother side on the defensive.]\n\n 19. Rapidity is the essence of war:\n\n [According to Tu", "time of war, one of the families had\nto serve in the army, while the other seven contributed to its\nsupport. Thus, by a levy of 100,000 men (reckoning one able-\nbodied soldier to each family) the husbandry of 700,000 families\nwould be affected.]\n\n 2. Hostile armies may face each other for years, striving\nfor the victory which is decided in a single day. This being so,\nto remain in ignorance of the enemy's condition simply because", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari", "\n\nbut a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the\nforces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties,\ndangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.\n 22. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his\nknowledge into practice, will win his battles. He who knows them\nnot, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.\n 23. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must\nfight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not", "spent on\nchariots and armor, will reach the total of a thousand ounces of\nsilver per day. Such is the cost of raising an army of 100,000\nmen.\n 2. When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long\nin coming, then men's weapons will grow dull and their ardor will\nbe damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your\nstrength.\n 3. Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of\nthe State will not be", " who have to lead an army and devise stratagems, must learn\n the art of war. But if one can command the services of a\n good general like Sun Tzu, who was employed by Wu Tzu-hsu,\n there is no need to learn it oneself. Hence the remark added\n by Confucius: \"If I fight, I conquer.\"\n The men of the present day, however, willfully interpret\n these words of Confucius in their narrowest sense, as though\n he meant that books on the art of", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "tenths of its total revenue.\n 15. Hence a wise general makes a point of foraging on the\nenemy. One cartload of the enemy's provisions is equivalent to\ntwenty of one's own, and likewise a single PICUL of his provender\nis equivalent to twenty from one's own store.\n\n [Because twenty cartloads will be consumed in the process of\ntransporting one cartload to the front. A PICUL is a unit of\nmeasure equal to 133.3 pounds (65.5 kilograms", "are slain, while the\ntown still remains untaken. Such are the disastrous effects of a\nsiege.\n\n [We are reminded of the terrible losses of the Japanese\nbefore Port Arthur, in the most recent siege which history has to\nrecord.]\n\n 6. Therefore the skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops\nwithout any fighting; he captures their cities without laying\nsiege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy\noperations in the field.\n\n [Chia Lin notes that he only overthrows the", "to the importance of marches, countermarches and\nmaneuvers. He said: \"It is a great mistake to waste men in\ntaking a town when the same expenditure of soldiers will gain a\nprovince.\" [1] ]\n\npositions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign\nwhich must not be obeyed.\n\n [This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence\nfor authority, and Wei Liao Tzu (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to\nexclaim: \"Weapons ", "light, the\nworld as large knows nothing of them, and he wins no reputation\nfor wisdom; inasmuch as the hostile state submits before there\nhas been any bloodshed, he receives no credit for courage.\"]\n\n 13. He wins his battles by making no mistakes.\n\n [Ch`en Hao says: \"He plans no superfluous marches, he\ndevises no futile attacks.\" The connection of ideas is thus\nexplained by Chang Yu: \"One who seeks to conquer by sheer\nstrength, clever though he", "500 men, the equivalent to a\ndetachment consists from any number between 100 and 500, and the\nequivalent of a company contains from 5 to 100 men. For the last\ntwo, however, Chang Yu gives the exact figures of 100 and 5\nrespectively.]\n\n 2. Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not\nsupreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the\nenemy's resistance without fighting.\n\n [Here again, no modern strategist", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "Only one who knows the disastrous\neffects of a long war can realize the supreme importance of\nrapidity in bringing it to a close. Only two commentators seem\nto favor this interpretation, but it fits well into the logic of\nthe context, whereas the rendering, \"He who does not know the\nevils of war cannot appreciate its benefits,\" is distinctly\npointless.]\n\n 8. The skillful soldier does not raise a second levy,\nneither are his supply-wagons loaded more than twice.\n\n [Once war is declared,", "details of a clever stratagem,\nwhereby, as he foresaw, he was able to capture the city and\ninflict a crushing defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 9. Neither is it the acme of excellence if you fight and\nconquer and the whole Empire says, \"Well done!\"\n\n [True excellence being, as Tu Mu says: \"To plan secretly,\nto move surreptitiously, to foil the enemy's intentions and balk\nhis schemes, so that at last the day may be won without shedding\n" ], [ "dealt with\ndirect and indirect methods. The good general acquaints himself\nfirst with the theory of attack and defense, and then turns his\nattention to direct and indirect methods. He studies the art of\nvarying and combining these two methods before proceeding to the\nsubject of weak and strong points. For the use of direct or\nindirect methods arises out of attack and defense, and the\nperception of weak and strong points depends again on the above\nmethods. Hence the present chapter comes immediately after the\nchapter on Energy.\"]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu", "[As Ho Shih remarks: \"War is not a thing to be trifled\nwith.\" Sun Tzu here reiterates the main lesson which this\nchapter is intended to enforce.\"]\n\n 20. Thus it may be known that the leader of armies is the\narbiter of the people's fate, the man on whom it depends whether\nthe nation shall be in peace or in peril.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIII. ATTACK BY STRATAGEM\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the practical", "s\nstrength, allows an inferior force to engage a larger one, or\nhurls a weak detachment against a powerful one, and neglects to\nplace picked soldiers in the front rank, the result must be ROUT.\n\n [Chang Yu paraphrases the latter part of the sentence and\ncontinues: \"Whenever there is fighting to be done, the keenest\nspirits should be appointed to serve in the front ranks, both in\norder to strengthen the resolution of our own men and to\ndemoralize the enemy.\" Cf. the primi ord", "\nthe paramount importance in war of rapid evolutions and sudden\nrushes. \"Great results,\" he adds, \"can thus be achieved with\nsmall forces.\"]\n\n\n[1] \"Forty-one Years in India,\" chapter 46.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nVI. WEAK POINTS AND STRONG\n\n\n [Chang Yu attempts to explain the sequence of chapters as\nfollows: \"Chapter IV, on Tactical Dispositions, treated of the\noffensive and the defensive; chapter V, on Energy, ", "ability to gain an advantage over\nthe enemy. If in my counsels these two considerations are\nproperly blended, I shall succeed in liberating myself.... For\ninstance; if I am surrounded by the enemy and only think of\neffecting an escape, the nervelessness of my policy will incite\nmy adversary to pursue and crush me; it would be far better to\nencourage my men to deliver a bold counter-attack, and use the\nadvantage thus gained to free myself from the enemy's toils.\"\nSee the story of Ts`ao", "to guard against him. This being so,\nthe places that I shall attack are precisely those that the enemy\ncannot defend.... He who is skilled in defense hides in the most\nsecret recesses of the earth, making it impossible for the enemy\nto estimate his whereabouts. This being so, the places that I\nshall hold are precisely those that the enemy cannot attack.\"]\n\n 8. Hence that general is skillful in attack whose opponent\ndoes not know what to defend; and he is skillful in defense whose\nopponent does not know what to attack.\n\n", "that we shall be\nmany to the enemy's few.\n 15. And if we are able thus to attack an inferior force\nwith a superior one, our opponents will be in dire straits.\n 16. The spot where we intend to fight must not be made\nknown; for then the enemy will have to prepare against a possible\nattack at several different points;\n\n [Sheridan once explained the reason of General Grant's\nvictories by saying that \"while his opponents were kept fully\nemployed wondering what he was going to do, HE was thinking", "the action\nhas begun. Li Ch`uan alludes to the story of Han Hsin who, when\nabout to attack the vastly superior army of Chao, which was\nstrongly entrenched in the city of Ch`eng-an, said to his\nofficers: \"Gentlemen, we are going to annihilate the enemy, and\nshall meet again at dinner.\" The officers hardly took his words\nseriously, and gave a very dubious assent. But Han Hsin had\nalready worked out in his mind the", " Standing on the defensive indicates insufficient\nstrength; attacking, a superabundance of strength.\n 7. The general who is skilled in defense hides in the most\nsecret recesses of the earth;\n\n [Literally, \"hides under the ninth earth,\" which is a\nmetaphor indicating the utmost secrecy and concealment, so that\nthe enemy may not know his whereabouts.\"]\n\nhe who is skilled in attack flashes forth from the topmost\nheights of heaven.\n\n [Another metaphor", "ers are variance amongst\nthemselves.\"]\n\nYou can ensure the safety of your defense if you only hold\npositions that cannot be attacked.\n\n [I.e., where there are none of the weak points mentioned\nabove. There is rather a nice point involved in the\ninterpretation of this later clause. Tu Mu, Ch`en Hao, and Mei\nYao-ch`en assume the meaning to be: \"In order to make your\ndefense quite safe, you must defend EVEN those places that are\nnot likely to be", "\n [In Frederick the Great's INSTRUCTIONS TO HIS GENERALS we\nread: \"A defensive war is apt to betray us into too frequent\ndetachment. Those generals who have had but little experience\nattempt to protect every point, while those who are better\nacquainted with their profession, having only the capital object\nin view, guard against a decisive blow, and acquiesce in small\nmisfortunes to avoid greater.\"]\n\n 18. Numerical weakness comes from having to prepare against\npossible attacks; numerical strength", ", shun\nplaces that are defended, attack in unexpected quarters.\"]\n\n 7. You can be sure of succeeding in your attacks if you\nonly attack places which are undefended.\n\n [Wang Hsi explains \"undefended places\" as \"weak points; that\nis to say, where the general is lacking in capacity, or the\nsoldiers in spirit; where the walls are not strong enough, or the\nprecautions not strict enough; where relief comes too late, or\nprovisions are too scanty, or the defend", "points and strong.\n 5. In all fighting, the direct method may be used for\njoining battle, but indirect methods will be needed in order to\nsecure victory.\n\n [Chang Yu says: \"Steadily develop indirect tactics, either\nby pounding the enemy's flanks or falling on his rear.\" A\nbrilliant example of \"indirect tactics\" which decided the\nfortunes of a campaign was Lord Roberts' night march round the\nPeiwar Kotal in the second Afghan war. [1]\n\n 6. ", "he cannot fathom our real intent.'\"\nTo put it perhaps a little more clearly: any attack or other\noperation is CHENG, on which the enemy has had his attention\nfixed; whereas that is CH`I,\" which takes him by surprise or\ncomes from an unexpected quarter. If the enemy perceives a\nmovement which is meant to be CH`I,\" it immediately becomes\nCHENG.\"]\n\n 4. That the impact of your army may be like a grindstone\ndashed against an egg - this is effected by the science of weak\n", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "stronger in numbers, we may prevent\nhim from fighting. Scheme so as to discover his plans and the\nlikelihood of their success.\n\n [An alternative reading offered by Chia Lin is: \"Know\nbeforehand all plans conducive to our success and to the enemy's\nfailure.\"\n\n 23. Rouse him, and learn the principle of his activity or\ninactivity.\n\n [Chang Yu tells us that by noting the joy or anger shown by\nthe enemy on being thus disturbed, we shall be able to conclude\nwhether his", ". 571-649) has a\nsaying: \"Attacking does not merely consist in assaulting walled\ncities or striking at an army in battle array; it must include\nthe art of assailing the enemy's mental equilibrium.\"]\n\n 28. Now a soldier's spirit is keenest in the morning;\n\n [Always provided, I suppose, that he has had breakfast. At\nthe battle of the Trebia, the Romans were foolishly allowed to\nfight fasting, whereas Hannibal's men had", "ulated fear postulates courage; simulated weakness postulates\nstrength.\n\n [In order to make the translation intelligible, it is\nnecessary to tone down the sharply paradoxical form of the\noriginal. Ts`ao Kung throws out a hint of the meaning in his\nbrief note: \"These things all serve to destroy formation and\nconceal one's condition.\" But Tu Mu is the first to put it quite\nplainly: \"If you wish to feign confusion in order to lure the\nenemy on, you must first have perfect discipline; if", "he is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If\nhe is in superior strength, evade him.\n 22. If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to\nirritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.\n\n [Wang Tzu, quoted by Tu Yu, says that the good tactician\nplays with his adversary as a cat plays with a mouse, first\nfeigning weakness and immobility, and then suddenly pouncing upon\nhim.]\n\n 23", "ficially how a battle is won;\nwhat they cannot see is the long series of plans and combinations\nwhich has preceded the battle.]\n\n 28. Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one\nvictory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite\nvariety of circumstances.\n\n [As Wang Hsi sagely remarks: \"There is but one root-\nprinciple underlying victory, but the tactics which lead up to it\nare infinite in number.\" With this compare Col. Henderson: \"The\nrules of strategy are few and" ], [ "enemy.\n\n [It is hardly necessary to point out the faultiness of this\nclassification. A strange lack of logical perception is shown in\nthe Chinaman's unquestioning acceptance of glaring cross-\ndivisions such as the above.]\n\n 2. Ground which can be freely traversed by both sides is\ncalled ACCESSIBLE.\n 3. With regard to ground of this nature, be before the\nenemy in occupying the raised and sunny spots, and carefully\nguard your line of supplies.\n\n [The general", "has not had time to prepare, and where defeat\nwill not be an ordinary failure, but will entail the ruin or\nsurrender of his whole army.\" [2]\n\nThen you will be able to fight with advantage.\n 4. Ground which can be abandoned but is hard to re-occupy\nis called ENTANGLING.\n 5. From a position of this sort, if the enemy is\nunprepared, you may sally forth and defeat him. But if the enemy\nis prepared for your coming, and you fail to defeat him, then", "ate position, you must fight.\n 3. There are roads which must not be followed,\n\n [\"Especially those leading through narrow defiles,\" says Li\nCh`uan, \"where an ambush is to be feared.\"]\n\narmies which must be not attacked,\n\n [More correctly, perhaps, \"there are times when an army must\nnot be attacked.\" Ch`en Hao says: \"When you see your way to\nobtain a rival advantage, but are powerless to inflict a real\ndefeat, refrain from attacking, for fear of", "the general receives his commands\nfrom the sovereign.\n 2. Having collected an army and concentrated his forces, he\nmust blend and harmonize the different elements thereof before\npitching his camp.\n\n [\"Chang Yu says: \"the establishment of harmony and\nconfidence between the higher and lower ranks before venturing\ninto the field;\" and he quotes a saying of Wu Tzu (chap. 1 ad\ninit.): \"Without harmony in the State, no military expedition\ncan be undertaken; without harmony in the army, no battle array\ncan be", "on the defensive, and avoiding battle. Cf. supra, ss. 11.]\n\nOn facile ground, I would see that there is close connection\nbetween all parts of my army.\n\n [As Tu Mu says, the object is to guard against two possible\ncontingencies: \"(1) the desertion of our own troops; (2) a\nsudden attack on the part of the enemy.\" Cf. VII. ss. 17. Mei\nYao-ch`en says: \"On the march, the", "ruler's commands must\nbe obeyed.\" But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a\ngeneral to use these advantages. For instance, \"a certain road\nmay be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds\nin natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it,\nhe will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to\nattack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to\nfight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,\" and so\non.]\n\n", "of which his success\ndepends, are: (1) to capture our favorable positions; (2) to\nravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard his own communications.\"\nOur object then must be to thwart his plans in these three\ndirections and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. ss. 3.] By\nboldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the\nother side on the defensive.]\n\n 19. Rapidity is the essence of war:\n\n [According to Tu", "life of a human being. Just as the duelist who finds his\nadversary's point menacing him with certain death, and his own\nguard astray, is compelled to conform to his adversary's\nmovements, and to content himself with warding off his thrusts,\nso the commander whose communications are suddenly threatened\nfinds himself in a false position, and he will be fortunate if he\nhas not to change all his plans, to split up his force into more\nor less isolated detachments, and to fight with inferior numbers\non ground which he", "a practical soldier, will have none of the\n\"bookish theoric.\" He cautions us here not to pin our faith to\nabstract principles; \"for,\" as Chang Yu puts it, \"while the main\nlaws of strategy can be stated clearly enough for the benefit of\nall and sundry, you must be guided by the actions of the enemy in\nattempting to secure a favorable position in actual warfare.\" On\nthe eve of the battle of Waterloo, Lord Uxbridge, commanding the\ncavalry, went to the Duke of Welling", "s`ao Kung says: \"The particular advantage of securing\nheights and defiles is that your actions cannot then be dictated\nby the enemy.\" [For the enunciation of the grand principle\nalluded to, see VI. ss. 2]. Chang Yu tells the following\nanecdote of P`ei Hsing-chien (A.D. 619-682), who was sent on a\npunitive expedition against the Turkic tribes. \"At night he\npitched his camp as usual, and it had", ".]\n\nthe next in order is to attack the enemy's army in the field;\n\n [When he is already at full strength.]\n\nand the worst policy of all is to besiege walled cities.\n\n 4. The rule is, not to besiege walled cities if it can\npossibly be avoided.\n\n [Another sound piece of military theory. Had the Boers\nacted upon it in 1899, and refrained from dissipating their\nstrength before Kimberley, Mafeking, or even Ladys", "be safe from\npursuit if your movements are more rapid than those of the enemy.\n 11. If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced to an\nengagement even though he be sheltered behind a high rampart and\na deep ditch. All we need do is attack some other place that he\nwill be obliged to relieve.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"If the enemy is the invading party, we can\ncut his line of communications and occupy the roads by which he\nwill have to return; if we are the inv", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "regiments should be in close\ntouch; in an encampment, there should be continuity between the\nfortifications.\"]\n\n 47. On contentious ground, I would hurry up my rear.\n\n [This is Ts`ao Kung's interpretation. Chang Yu adopts it,\nsaying: \"We must quickly bring up our rear, so that head and\ntail may both reach the goal.\" That is, they must not be allowed\nto straggle up a long way apart. Mei Yao-ch`en offers another\nequ", "these two\npositions.\" Liang Hsi, refusing to act on this advice, was\noverwhelmed and swept away by the invader.]\n\n 5. Ground on which each side has liberty of movement is\nopen ground.\n\n [There are various interpretations of the Chinese adjective\nfor this type of ground. Ts`ao Kung says it means \"ground\ncovered with a network of roads,\" like a chessboard. Ho Shih\nsuggested: \"ground on which intercommunication is easy.\"]\n\n 6.", "defensive.\" He adds: \"Attack is the secret of defense; defense\nis the planning of an attack.\" It would be hard to find a better\nepitome of the root-principle of war.]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIV. TACTICAL DISPOSITIONS\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains the Chinese meaning of the words for\nthe title of this chapter: \"marching and countermarching on the\npart of the two armies with a view to discovering each other's\ncondition.\" ", "we know that the enemy is open to attack, and also\nknow that our men are in a condition to attack, but are unaware\nthat the nature of the ground makes fighting impracticable, we\nhave still gone only halfway towards victory.\n 30. Hence the experienced soldier, once in motion, is never\nbewildered; once he has broken camp, he is never at a loss.\n\n [The reason being, according to Tu Mu, that he has taken his\nmeasures so thoroughly as to ensure victory beforehand. \"He does\nnot move recklessly,\"", "are baleful instruments, strife is\nantagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the negation of\ncivil order!\" The unpalatable fact remains, however, that even\nImperial wishes must be subordinated to military necessity.]\n\n 4. The general who thoroughly understands the advantages\nthat accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his\ntroops.\n 5. The general who does not understand these, may be well\nacquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not\nbe able to turn his knowledge to practical", "art of war\nof varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five\nAdvantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.\n\n [Chia Lin tells us that these imply five obvious and\ngenerally advantageous lines of action, namely: \"if a certain\nroad is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it\nmust be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be\nbesieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and\nif consistent with military operations, the", "\nwith us, and by making sudden and unexpected attacks we shall\nhave the enemy at our mercy.\"]\n\n 9. Should the army forestall you in occupying a pass, do\nnot go after him if the pass is fully garrisoned, but only if it\nis weakly garrisoned.\n 10. With regard to PRECIPITOUS HEIGHTS, if you are\nbeforehand with your adversary, you should occupy the raised and\nsunny spots, and there wait for him to come up.\n\n [T" ], [ "ruler's commands must\nbe obeyed.\" But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a\ngeneral to use these advantages. For instance, \"a certain road\nmay be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds\nin natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it,\nhe will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to\nattack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to\nfight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,\" and so\non.]\n\n", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "we know that the enemy is open to attack, and also\nknow that our men are in a condition to attack, but are unaware\nthat the nature of the ground makes fighting impracticable, we\nhave still gone only halfway towards victory.\n 30. Hence the experienced soldier, once in motion, is never\nbewildered; once he has broken camp, he is never at a loss.\n\n [The reason being, according to Tu Mu, that he has taken his\nmeasures so thoroughly as to ensure victory beforehand. \"He does\nnot move recklessly,\"", "then waited for\nan opportunity of defeating the enemy.\n 2. To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own\nhands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by\nthe enemy himself.\n\n [That is, of course, by a mistake on the enemy's part.]\n\n 3. Thus the good fighter is able to secure himself against\ndefeat,\n\n [Chang Yu says this is done, \"By concealing the disposition\nof his troops, covering up his tracks, and taking unremitting\nprecautions.\"]\n", "s\nstrength, allows an inferior force to engage a larger one, or\nhurls a weak detachment against a powerful one, and neglects to\nplace picked soldiers in the front rank, the result must be ROUT.\n\n [Chang Yu paraphrases the latter part of the sentence and\ncontinues: \"Whenever there is fighting to be done, the keenest\nspirits should be appointed to serve in the front ranks, both in\norder to strengthen the resolution of our own men and to\ndemoralize the enemy.\" Cf. the primi ord", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "of which his success\ndepends, are: (1) to capture our favorable positions; (2) to\nravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard his own communications.\"\nOur object then must be to thwart his plans in these three\ndirections and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. ss. 3.] By\nboldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the\nother side on the defensive.]\n\n 19. Rapidity is the essence of war:\n\n [According to Tu", "using the same\nstratagem twice.]\n\nhe keeps the enemy without definite knowledge.\n\n [Chang Yu, in a quotation from another work, says: \"The\naxiom, that war is based on deception, does not apply only to\ndeception of the enemy. You must deceive even your own soldiers.\nMake them follow you, but without letting them know why.\"]\n\nBy shifting his camp and taking circuitous routes, he prevents\nthe enemy from anticipating his purpose.\n 38. At the critical moment, the leader", "be safe from\npursuit if your movements are more rapid than those of the enemy.\n 11. If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced to an\nengagement even though he be sheltered behind a high rampart and\na deep ditch. All we need do is attack some other place that he\nwill be obliged to relieve.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"If the enemy is the invading party, we can\ncut his line of communications and occupy the roads by which he\nwill have to return; if we are the inv", "every artifice at his command.\"]\n\n 39. He burns his boats and breaks his cooking-pots; like a\nshepherd driving a flock of sheep, he drives his men this way and\nthat, and nothing knows whither he is going.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"The army is only cognizant of orders to\nadvance or retreat; it is ignorant of the ulterior ends of\nattacking and conquering.\"]\n\n 40. To muster his host and bring it into danger:--this may\nbe term", "engage the enemy, his troops turned tail and\ndispersed in every direction. After that, the unfortunate man\ncommitted suicide by cutting his throat.]\n\nWhen the officers are too strong and the common soldiers too\nweak, the result is COLLAPSE.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung says: \"The officers are energetic and want to\npress on, the common soldiers are feeble and suddenly collapse.\"]\n\n 17. When the higher officers are angry and insubordinate,\nand on meeting the enemy give battle on their own account from a\nfe", "a practical soldier, will have none of the\n\"bookish theoric.\" He cautions us here not to pin our faith to\nabstract principles; \"for,\" as Chang Yu puts it, \"while the main\nlaws of strategy can be stated clearly enough for the benefit of\nall and sundry, you must be guided by the actions of the enemy in\nattempting to secure a favorable position in actual warfare.\" On\nthe eve of the battle of Waterloo, Lord Uxbridge, commanding the\ncavalry, went to the Duke of Welling", "\nwith us, and by making sudden and unexpected attacks we shall\nhave the enemy at our mercy.\"]\n\n 9. Should the army forestall you in occupying a pass, do\nnot go after him if the pass is fully garrisoned, but only if it\nis weakly garrisoned.\n 10. With regard to PRECIPITOUS HEIGHTS, if you are\nbeforehand with your adversary, you should occupy the raised and\nsunny spots, and there wait for him to come up.\n\n [T", "art of war\nof varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five\nAdvantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.\n\n [Chia Lin tells us that these imply five obvious and\ngenerally advantageous lines of action, namely: \"if a certain\nroad is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it\nmust be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be\nbesieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and\nif consistent with military operations, the", "stronger in numbers, we may prevent\nhim from fighting. Scheme so as to discover his plans and the\nlikelihood of their success.\n\n [An alternative reading offered by Chia Lin is: \"Know\nbeforehand all plans conducive to our success and to the enemy's\nfailure.\"\n\n 23. Rouse him, and learn the principle of his activity or\ninactivity.\n\n [Chang Yu tells us that by noting the joy or anger shown by\nthe enemy on being thus disturbed, we shall be able to conclude\nwhether his", "enemy until you can fight a\ndecisive battle.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"Conform to the enemy's tactics until a\nfavorable opportunity offers; then come forth and engage in a\nbattle that shall prove decisive.\"]\n\n 68. At first, then, exhibit the coyness of a maiden, until\nthe enemy gives you an opening; afterwards emulate the rapidity\nof a running hare, and it will be too late for the enemy to\noppose you.\n\n [As the hare is noted for its", ": \"If I manage to seize a favorable\nposition, but the enemy does not appear on the scene, the\nadvantage thus obtained cannot be turned to any practical\naccount. He who intends therefore, to occupy a position of\nimportance to the enemy, must begin by making an artful\nappointment, so to speak, with his antagonist, and cajole him\ninto going there as well.\" Mei Yao-ch`en explains that this\n\"artful appointment\" is to be made through the medium of the\nen", "opportunities. Now is the time to strike, before Hsiao Hsien\neven knows that we have got an army together. If we seize the\npresent moment when the river is in flood, we shall appear before\nhis capital with startling suddenness, like the thunder which is\nheard before you have time to stop your ears against it. [See\nVII. ss. 19, note.] This is the great principle in war. Even if\nhe gets to know of our approach, he will have to levy his\nsoldiers in such a", "has not had time to prepare, and where defeat\nwill not be an ordinary failure, but will entail the ruin or\nsurrender of his whole army.\" [2]\n\nThen you will be able to fight with advantage.\n 4. Ground which can be abandoned but is hard to re-occupy\nis called ENTANGLING.\n 5. From a position of this sort, if the enemy is\nunprepared, you may sally forth and defeat him. But if the enemy\nis prepared for your coming, and you fail to defeat him, then", "ate position, you must fight.\n 3. There are roads which must not be followed,\n\n [\"Especially those leading through narrow defiles,\" says Li\nCh`uan, \"where an ambush is to be feared.\"]\n\narmies which must be not attacked,\n\n [More correctly, perhaps, \"there are times when an army must\nnot be attacked.\" Ch`en Hao says: \"When you see your way to\nobtain a rival advantage, but are powerless to inflict a real\ndefeat, refrain from attacking, for fear of" ], [ "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "\n\nbut a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the\nforces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties,\ndangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.\n 22. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his\nknowledge into practice, will win his battles. He who knows them\nnot, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.\n 23. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must\nfight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not", "ficially how a battle is won;\nwhat they cannot see is the long series of plans and combinations\nwhich has preceded the battle.]\n\n 28. Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one\nvictory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite\nvariety of circumstances.\n\n [As Wang Hsi sagely remarks: \"There is but one root-\nprinciple underlying victory, but the tactics which lead up to it\nare infinite in number.\" With this compare Col. Henderson: \"The\nrules of strategy are few and", "points and strong.\n 5. In all fighting, the direct method may be used for\njoining battle, but indirect methods will be needed in order to\nsecure victory.\n\n [Chang Yu says: \"Steadily develop indirect tactics, either\nby pounding the enemy's flanks or falling on his rear.\" A\nbrilliant example of \"indirect tactics\" which decided the\nfortunes of a campaign was Lord Roberts' night march round the\nPeiwar Kotal in the second Afghan war. [1]\n\n 6. ", "details of a clever stratagem,\nwhereby, as he foresaw, he was able to capture the city and\ninflict a crushing defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 9. Neither is it the acme of excellence if you fight and\nconquer and the whole Empire says, \"Well done!\"\n\n [True excellence being, as Tu Mu says: \"To plan secretly,\nto move surreptitiously, to foil the enemy's intentions and balk\nhis schemes, so that at last the day may be won without shedding\n", "light, the\nworld as large knows nothing of them, and he wins no reputation\nfor wisdom; inasmuch as the hostile state submits before there\nhas been any bloodshed, he receives no credit for courage.\"]\n\n 13. He wins his battles by making no mistakes.\n\n [Ch`en Hao says: \"He plans no superfluous marches, he\ndevises no futile attacks.\" The connection of ideas is thus\nexplained by Chang Yu: \"One who seeks to conquer by sheer\nstrength, clever though he", "are slain, while the\ntown still remains untaken. Such are the disastrous effects of a\nsiege.\n\n [We are reminded of the terrible losses of the Japanese\nbefore Port Arthur, in the most recent siege which history has to\nrecord.]\n\n 6. Therefore the skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops\nwithout any fighting; he captures their cities without laying\nsiege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy\noperations in the field.\n\n [Chia Lin notes that he only overthrows the", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "24. Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are\nnot expected.\n 25. These military devices, leading to victory, must not be\ndivulged beforehand.\n 26. Now the general who wins a battle makes many\ncalculations in his temple ere the battle is fought.\n\n [Chang Yu tells us that in ancient times it was customary\nfor a temple to be set apart for the use of a general who was\nabout to take the field, in order that he might there elaborate\nhis plan of campaign.]\n", "ate position, you must fight.\n 3. There are roads which must not be followed,\n\n [\"Especially those leading through narrow defiles,\" says Li\nCh`uan, \"where an ambush is to be feared.\"]\n\narmies which must be not attacked,\n\n [More correctly, perhaps, \"there are times when an army must\nnot be attacked.\" Ch`en Hao says: \"When you see your way to\nobtain a rival advantage, but are powerless to inflict a real\ndefeat, refrain from attacking, for fear of", "al princes. This is simply\nbringing anarchy into the army, and flinging victory away.\n 17. Thus we may know that there are five essentials for\nvictory: (1) He will win who knows when to fight and when not to\nfight.\n\n [Chang Yu says: If he can fight, he advances and takes the\noffensive; if he cannot fight, he retreats and remains on the\ndefensive. He will invariably conquer who knows whether it is\nright to take the offensive or the", " [An aphorism which puts the whole art of war in a nutshell.]\n\n 9. O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we\nlearn to be invisible, through you inaudible;\n\n [Literally, \"without form or sound,\" but it is said of\ncourse with reference to the enemy.]\n\nand hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands.\n 10. You may advance and be absolutely irresistible, if you\nmake for the enemy's weak points; you may retire and", "enemy until you can fight a\ndecisive battle.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"Conform to the enemy's tactics until a\nfavorable opportunity offers; then come forth and engage in a\nbattle that shall prove decisive.\"]\n\n 68. At first, then, exhibit the coyness of a maiden, until\nthe enemy gives you an opening; afterwards emulate the rapidity\nof a running hare, and it will be too late for the enemy to\noppose you.\n\n [As the hare is noted for its", "Government, but\ndoes no harm to individuals. The classical instance is Wu Wang,\nwho after having put an end to the Yin dynasty was acclaimed\n\"Father and mother of the people.\"]\n\n 7. With his forces intact he will dispute the mastery of\nthe Empire, and thus, without losing a man, his triumph will be\ncomplete.\n\n [Owing to the double meanings in the Chinese text, the\nlatter part of the sentence is susceptible of quite a different\nmeaning: \"And thus, the weapon not being blunted", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "you wish to\ndisplay timidity in order to entrap the enemy, you must have\nextreme courage; if you wish to parade your weakness in order to\nmake the enemy over-confident, you must have exceeding\nstrength.\"]\n\n 18. Hiding order beneath the cloak of disorder is simply a\nquestion of subdivision;\n\n [See supra, ss. 1.]\n\nconcealing courage under a show of timidity presupposes a fund of\nlatent energy;\n\n [The commentators strongly", "may be at winning pitched battles, is\nalso liable on occasion to be vanquished; whereas he who can look\ninto the future and discern conditions that are not yet manifest,\nwill never make a blunder and therefore invariably win.\"]\n\nMaking no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory,\nfor it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated.\n 14. Hence the skillful fighter puts himself into a position\nwhich makes defeat impossible, and does not miss the moment for\ndefeating the enemy.\n\n [A \"", ": 'With a\nsuperior force, make for easy ground; with an inferior one, make\nfor difficult ground.'\"]\n\n (3) He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit\nthroughout all its ranks.\n (4) He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the\nenemy unprepared.\n (5) He will win who has military capacity and is not\ninterfered with by the sovereign.\n\n [Tu Yu quotes Wang Tzu as saying: \"It is the sovereign's\n", ", shun\nplaces that are defended, attack in unexpected quarters.\"]\n\n 7. You can be sure of succeeding in your attacks if you\nonly attack places which are undefended.\n\n [Wang Hsi explains \"undefended places\" as \"weak points; that\nis to say, where the general is lacking in capacity, or the\nsoldiers in spirit; where the walls are not strong enough, or the\nprecautions not strict enough; where relief comes too late, or\nprovisions are too scanty, or the defend", "`ao Kung's note is: \"We can merely obstruct the enemy's\nroad or divide his army, but not sweep away all his accumulated\nstores.\" Water can do useful service, but it lacks the terrible\ndestructive power of fire. This is the reason, Chang Yu\nconcludes, why the former is dismissed in a couple of sentences,\nwhereas the attack by fire is discussed in detail. Wu Tzu (ch.\n4) speaks thus of the two elements: \"If an army is encamped on\nlow" ], [ "\n 21. Movement amongst the trees of a forest shows that the\nenemy is advancing.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains this as \"felling trees to clear a\npassage,\" and Chang Yu says: \"Every man sends out scouts to\nclimb high places and observe the enemy. If a scout sees that\nthe trees of a forest are moving and shaking, he may know that\nthey are being cut down to clear a passage for the enemy's\nmarch.\"]\n\nThe appearance of a number of screens in the midst of thick", "by circumstances.\n 17. Let your rapidity be that of the wind,\n\n [The simile is doubly appropriate, because the wind is not\nonly swift but, as Mei Yao-ch`en points out, \"invisible and\nleaves no tracks.\"]\n\nyour compactness that of the forest.\n\n [Meng Shih comes nearer to the mark in his note: \"When\nslowly marching, order and ranks must be preserved\"--so as to\nguard against surprise attacks. But natural forest do not grow", "our guard\nagainst traitors who may lie in close covert, secretly spying out\nour weaknesses and overhearing our instructions.\"]\n\n 18. When the enemy is close at hand and remains quiet, he\nis relying on the natural strength of his position.\n\n [Here begin Sun Tzu's remarks on the reading of signs, much\nof which is so good that it could almost be included in a modern\nmanual like Gen. Baden-Powell's \"Aids to Scouting.\"]\n\n 19. When he", "come across.]\n\n 22. The rising of birds in their flight is the sign of an\nambuscade.\n\n [Chang Yu's explanation is doubtless right: \"When birds\nthat are flying along in a straight line suddenly shoot upwards,\nit means that soldiers are in ambush at the spot beneath.\"]\n\nStartled beasts indicate that a sudden attack is coming.\n 23. When there is dust rising in a high column, it is the\nsign of chariots advancing; when the dust is low, but spread over\na wide", "the plans that are being formed against you, and\nmoreover disturb the harmony and create a breach between the\nsovereign and his ministers.\" The necessity for extreme caution,\nhowever, in dealing with \"inward spies,\" appears from an\nhistorical incident related by Ho Shih: \"Lo Shang, Governor of\nI-Chou, sent his general Wei Po to attack the rebel Li Hsiung of\nShu in his stronghold at P`i. After each side had experienced a\nnumber of victories and defeats,", "A few clouds of dust\nmoving to and fro signify that the army is encamping.\n\n [Chang Yu says: \"In apportioning the defenses for a\ncantonment, light horse will be sent out to survey the position\nand ascertain the weak and strong points all along its\ncircumference. Hence the small quantity of dust and its\nmotion.\"]\n\n 24. Humble words and increased preparations are signs that\nthe enemy is about to advance.\n\n [\"As though they stood in great fear of", "question of encamping\nthe army, and observing signs of the enemy. Pass quickly over\nmountains, and keep in the neighborhood of valleys.\n\n [The idea is, not to linger among barren uplands, but to\nkeep close to supplies of water and grass. Cf. Wu Tzu, ch. 3:\n\"Abide not in natural ovens,\" i.e. \"the openings of valleys.\"\nChang Yu tells the following anecdote: Wu-tu Ch`iang was a\nrob", "and\nseasons.\n\n [The commentators, I think, make an unnecessary mystery of\ntwo words here. Meng Shih refers to \"the hard and the soft,\nwaxing and waning\" of Heaven. Wang Hsi, however, may be right in\nsaying that what is meant is \"the general economy of Heaven,\"\nincluding the five elements, the four seasons, wind and clouds,\nand other phenomena.]\n\n 8. EARTH comprises distances, great and small; danger and\nsecurity; open ground and narrow passes; the chances of", "text.\"]\n\n 27. When there is much running about\n\n [Every man hastening to his proper place under his own\nregimental banner.]\n\nand the soldiers fall into rank, it means that the critical\nmoment has come.\n 28. When some are seen advancing and some retreating, it is\na lure.\n 29. When the soldiers stand leaning on their spears, they\nare faint from want of food.\n 30. If those who are sent to draw water begin by drinking\nthemselves,", "ity. This is surely some ruse on the part of the enemy,\nand it would be unwise for us to attack.\" The Emperor, however,\ndisregarding this advice, fell into the trap and found himself\nsurrounded at Po-teng.\"]\n\n 19. Thus one who is skillful at keeping the enemy on the\nmove maintains deceitful appearances, according to which the\nenemy will act.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung's note is \"Make a display of weakness and want.\"\nTu Mu says: \"", ": \"If I manage to seize a favorable\nposition, but the enemy does not appear on the scene, the\nadvantage thus obtained cannot be turned to any practical\naccount. He who intends therefore, to occupy a position of\nimportance to the enemy, must begin by making an artful\nappointment, so to speak, with his antagonist, and cajole him\ninto going there as well.\" Mei Yao-ch`en explains that this\n\"artful appointment\" is to be made through the medium of the\nen", "\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"plentifully provided with roads and\nmeans of communications.\"]\n\n(2) entangling ground;\n\n [The same commentator says: \"Net-like country, venturing\ninto which you become entangled.\"]\n\n(3) temporizing ground;\n\n [Ground which allows you to \"stave off\" or \"delay.\"]\n\n(4) narrow passes; (5) precipitous heights; (6) positions at a\ngreat distance from the", "penetrate deeply into a country, it is serious\nground. When you penetrate but a little way, it is facile\nground.\n 45. When you have the enemy's strongholds on your rear, and\nnarrow passes in front, it is hemmed-in ground. When there is no\nplace of refuge at all, it is desperate ground.\n 46. Therefore, on dispersive ground, I would inspire my men\nwith unity of purpose.\n\n [This end, according to Tu Mu, is best attained by remaining\n", ", who on sighting dust\nraised by the enemy, will gallop back and report it to the\ncommander-in-chief.\" Cf. Gen. Baden-Powell: \"As you move along,\nsay, in a hostile country, your eyes should be looking afar for\nthe enemy or any signs of him: figures, dust rising, birds\ngetting up, glitter of arms, etc.\" [1] ]\n\nWhen it branches out in different directions, it shows that\nparties have been sent to collect firewood. ", "on the defensive, and avoiding battle. Cf. supra, ss. 11.]\n\nOn facile ground, I would see that there is close connection\nbetween all parts of my army.\n\n [As Tu Mu says, the object is to guard against two possible\ncontingencies: \"(1) the desertion of our own troops; (2) a\nsudden attack on the part of the enemy.\" Cf. VII. ss. 17. Mei\nYao-ch`en says: \"On the march, the", "emy's own spies, who will carry back just the amount of\ninformation that we choose to give them. Then, having cunningly\ndisclosed our intentions, \"we must manage, though starting after\nthe enemy, to arrive before him (VII. ss. 4). We must start\nafter him in order to ensure his marching thither; we must arrive\nbefore him in order to capture the place without trouble. Taken\nthus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-ch`en's\ninterpretation of ss.", "cause the enemy\nto approach of his own accord; or, by inflicting damage, he can\nmake it impossible for the enemy to draw near.\n\n [In the first case, he will entice him with a bait; in the\nsecond, he will strike at some important point which the enemy\nwill have to defend.]\n\n 4. If the enemy is taking his ease, he can harass him;\n\n [This passage may be cited as evidence against Mei Yao-\nCh`en's interpretation of I. ss. 23.]\n\nif", "\nfact from falsehood, and be able to discriminate between honesty\nand double-dealing.\" Wang Hsi in a different interpretation\nthinks more along the lines of \"intuitive perception\" and\n\"practical intelligence.\" Tu Mu strangely refers these\nattributes to the spies themselves: \"Before using spies we must\nassure ourselves as to their integrity of character and the\nextent of their experience and skill.\" But he continues: \"A\nbrazen face and a crafty disposition are more dangerous than\nmountains or rivers", "defensive.\" He adds: \"Attack is the secret of defense; defense\nis the planning of an attack.\" It would be hard to find a better\nepitome of the root-principle of war.]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIV. TACTICAL DISPOSITIONS\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains the Chinese meaning of the words for\nthe title of this chapter: \"marching and countermarching on the\npart of the two armies with a view to discovering each other's\ncondition.\" ", "\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en understands the whole sentence to mean: Take\nthe strictest precautions to ensure secrecy in your\ndeliberations.]\n\n 65. If the enemy leaves a door open, you must rush in.\n 66. Forestall your opponent by seizing what he holds dear,\n\n [Cf. supra, ss. 18.]\n\nand subtly contrive to time his arrival on the ground.\n\n [Ch`en Hao`s explanation" ], [ "these two\npositions.\" Liang Hsi, refusing to act on this advice, was\noverwhelmed and swept away by the invader.]\n\n 5. Ground on which each side has liberty of movement is\nopen ground.\n\n [There are various interpretations of the Chinese adjective\nfor this type of ground. Ts`ao Kung says it means \"ground\ncovered with a network of roads,\" like a chessboard. Ho Shih\nsuggested: \"ground on which intercommunication is easy.\"]\n\n 6.", "eliminate the\ndifferences of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to\nutilize accidental features of the ground.\" Less reliable\ntroops, if posted in strong positions, will hold out as long as\nbetter troops on more exposed terrain. The advantage of position\nneutralizes the inferiority in stamina and courage. Col.\nHenderson says: \"With all respect to the text books, and to the\nordinary tactical teaching, I am inclined to think that the study\nof ground is often overlooked, and that by no means sufficient\n", "ers are variance amongst\nthemselves.\"]\n\nYou can ensure the safety of your defense if you only hold\npositions that cannot be attacked.\n\n [I.e., where there are none of the weak points mentioned\nabove. There is rather a nice point involved in the\ninterpretation of this later clause. Tu Mu, Ch`en Hao, and Mei\nYao-ch`en assume the meaning to be: \"In order to make your\ndefense quite safe, you must defend EVEN those places that are\nnot likely to be", "about a third of the chapter, comprising ss. ss. 1-13,\ndeals with \"terrain,\" the subject being more fully treated in ch.\nXI. The \"six calamities\" are discussed in SS. 14-20, and the\nrest of the chapter is again a mere string of desultory remarks,\nthough not less interesting, perhaps, on that account.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: We may distinguish six kinds of terrain,\nto wit: (1) Accessible ground;\n", "account.\n\n [Literally, \"get the advantage of the ground,\" which means\nnot only securing good positions, but availing oneself of natural\nadvantages in every possible way. Chang Yu says: \"Every kind of\nground is characterized by certain natural features, and also\ngives scope for a certain variability of plan. How it is\npossible to turn these natural features to account unless\ntopographical knowledge is supplemented by versatility of mind?\"]\n\n 6. So, the student of war who is unversed in the", "and keen.\"]\n\nand fighting will be to your disadvantage.\n\n 13. These six are the principles connected with Earth.\n\n [Or perhaps, \"the principles relating to ground.\" See,\nhowever, I. ss. 8.]\n\nThe general who has attained a responsible post must be careful\nto study them.\n 14. Now an army is exposed to six several calamities, not\narising from natural causes, but from faults for which the\ngeneral is responsible. These are: (1) ", "s`ao Kung says: \"The particular advantage of securing\nheights and defiles is that your actions cannot then be dictated\nby the enemy.\" [For the enunciation of the grand principle\nalluded to, see VI. ss. 2]. Chang Yu tells the following\nanecdote of P`ei Hsing-chien (A.D. 619-682), who was sent on a\npunitive expedition against the Turkic tribes. \"At night he\npitched his camp as usual, and it had", "\nthe paramount importance in war of rapid evolutions and sudden\nrushes. \"Great results,\" he adds, \"can thus be achieved with\nsmall forces.\"]\n\n\n[1] \"Forty-one Years in India,\" chapter 46.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nVI. WEAK POINTS AND STRONG\n\n\n [Chang Yu attempts to explain the sequence of chapters as\nfollows: \"Chapter IV, on Tactical Dispositions, treated of the\noffensive and the defensive; chapter V, on Energy, ", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", ".\"]\n\n\n[1] See \"Pensees de Napoleon 1er,\" no. 47.\n\n[2] \"The Science of War,\" chap. 2.\n\n[3] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. xii.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXI. THE NINE SITUATIONS\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war recognizes nine varieties\nof ground: (1) Dispersive ground; (2) facile ground; (3", "art of war\nof varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five\nAdvantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.\n\n [Chia Lin tells us that these imply five obvious and\ngenerally advantageous lines of action, namely: \"if a certain\nroad is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it\nmust be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be\nbesieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and\nif consistent with military operations, the", "in order to make\nit clear to everybody that you have no hankering after home.\"]\n\n 4. Ground the possession of which imports great advantage\nto either side, is contentious ground.\n\n [Tu Mu defines the ground as ground \"to be contended for.\"\nTs`ao Kung says: \"ground on which the few and the weak can\ndefeat the many and the strong,\" such as \"the neck of a pass,\"\ninstanced by Li Ch`uan. Thus, Thermopylae was of this\nclassification", "enemy.\n\n [It is hardly necessary to point out the faultiness of this\nclassification. A strange lack of logical perception is shown in\nthe Chinaman's unquestioning acceptance of glaring cross-\ndivisions such as the above.]\n\n 2. Ground which can be freely traversed by both sides is\ncalled ACCESSIBLE.\n 3. With regard to ground of this nature, be before the\nenemy in occupying the raised and sunny spots, and carefully\nguard your line of supplies.\n\n [The general", "\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"plentifully provided with roads and\nmeans of communications.\"]\n\n(2) entangling ground;\n\n [The same commentator says: \"Net-like country, venturing\ninto which you become entangled.\"]\n\n(3) temporizing ground;\n\n [Ground which allows you to \"stave off\" or \"delay.\"]\n\n(4) narrow passes; (5) precipitous heights; (6) positions at a\ngreat distance from the", "defensive.\" He adds: \"Attack is the secret of defense; defense\nis the planning of an attack.\" It would be hard to find a better\nepitome of the root-principle of war.]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIV. TACTICAL DISPOSITIONS\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains the Chinese meaning of the words for\nthe title of this chapter: \"marching and countermarching on the\npart of the two armies with a view to discovering each other's\ncondition.\" ", "ines of Caesar (\"De\nBello Gallico,\" V. 28, 44, et al.).]\n\n 20. These are six ways of courting defeat, which must be\ncarefully noted by the general who has attained a responsible\npost.\n\n [See supra, ss. 13.]\n\n 21. The natural formation of the country is the soldier's\nbest ally;\n\n [Ch`en Hao says: \"The advantages of weather and season are\nnot equal to those connected with ground.\"]", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "ally plausible explanation: \"Supposing the enemy has not yet\nreached the coveted position, and we are behind him, we should\nadvance with all speed in order to dispute its possession.\"\nCh`en Hao, on the other hand, assuming that the enemy has had\ntime to select his own ground, quotes VI. ss. 1, where Sun Tzu\nwarns us against coming exhausted to the attack. His own idea of\nthe situation is rather vaguely expressed: \"If there is a\nfavorable position lying in front of you, det", ")\ncontentious ground; (4) open ground; (5) ground of intersecting\nhighways; (6) serious ground; (7) difficult ground; (8) hemmed-in\nground; (9) desperate ground.\n 2. When a chieftain is fighting in his own territory, it is\ndispersive ground.\n\n [So called because the soldiers, being near to their homes\nand anxious to see their wives and children, are likely to seize\nthe opportunity afforded by a battle and scatter in every\ndirection. \"In their advance", "description of his army at Waterloo as \"the worst he\nhad ever commanded\" meant no more than that it was deficient in\nthis important particular--unity of spirit and courage. Had he\nnot foreseen the Belgian defections and carefully kept those\ntroops in the background, he would almost certainly have lost the\nday.]\n\n 33. How to make the best of both strong and weak--that is a\nquestion involving the proper use of ground.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en's paraphrase is: \"The way to" ], [ "the general receives his commands\nfrom the sovereign.\n 2. Having collected an army and concentrated his forces, he\nmust blend and harmonize the different elements thereof before\npitching his camp.\n\n [\"Chang Yu says: \"the establishment of harmony and\nconfidence between the higher and lower ranks before venturing\ninto the field;\" and he quotes a saying of Wu Tzu (chap. 1 ad\ninit.): \"Without harmony in the State, no military expedition\ncan be undertaken; without harmony in the army, no battle array\ncan be", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "first lay\nplans which will ensure victory, and then lead your army to\nbattle; if you will not begin with stratagem but rely on brute\nstrength alone, victory will no longer be assured.\"]\n\n 16. The consummate leader cultivates the moral law, and\nstrictly adheres to method and discipline; thus it is in his\npower to control success.\n 17. In respect of military method, we have, firstly,\nMeasurement; secondly, Estimation of quantity; thirdly,\n", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", ".\n 4. These are: (1) The Moral Law; (2) Heaven; (3) Earth;\n(4) The Commander; (5) Method and discipline.\n\n [It appears from what follows that Sun Tzu means by \"Moral\nLaw\" a principle of harmony, not unlike the Tao of Lao Tzu in its\nmoral aspect. One might be tempted to render it by \"morale,\"\nwere it not considered as an attribute of the ruler in ss. 13.]\n\n 5,", "every artifice at his command.\"]\n\n 39. He burns his boats and breaks his cooking-pots; like a\nshepherd driving a flock of sheep, he drives his men this way and\nthat, and nothing knows whither he is going.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"The army is only cognizant of orders to\nadvance or retreat; it is ignorant of the ulterior ends of\nattacking and conquering.\"]\n\n 40. To muster his host and bring it into danger:--this may\nbe term", ". Besides the tradition\nwhich makes him a former minister of Chou Hsin, two other\naccounts of him are there given, according to which he would\nappear to have been first raised from a humble private station by\nWen Wang.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI. LAYING PLANS\n\n [Ts`ao Kung, in defining the meaning of the Chinese for the\ntitle of this chapter, says it refers to the deliberations in the\ntemple selected by the general for his temporary use, or as we\nshould say, in his", "the action\nhas begun. Li Ch`uan alludes to the story of Han Hsin who, when\nabout to attack the vastly superior army of Chao, which was\nstrongly entrenched in the city of Ch`eng-an, said to his\nofficers: \"Gentlemen, we are going to annihilate the enemy, and\nshall meet again at dinner.\" The officers hardly took his words\nseriously, and gave a very dubious assent. But Han Hsin had\nalready worked out in his mind the", "24. Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are\nnot expected.\n 25. These military devices, leading to victory, must not be\ndivulged beforehand.\n 26. Now the general who wins a battle makes many\ncalculations in his temple ere the battle is fought.\n\n [Chang Yu tells us that in ancient times it was customary\nfor a temple to be set apart for the use of a general who was\nabout to take the field, in order that he might there elaborate\nhis plan of campaign.]\n", "arkand\nthen capitulating, Kutcha and the other kingdoms drew off their\nrespective forces. From that time forward, Pan Ch`ao's prestige\ncompletely overawed the countries of the west.\" In this case, we\nsee that the Chinese general not only kept his own officers in\nignorance of his real plans, but actually took the bold step of\ndividing his army in order to deceive the enemy.]\n\n 37. By altering his arrangements and changing his plans,\n\n [Wang Hsi thinks that this means not", "words of command having\n been thus explained, he set up the halberds and battle-axes\n in order to begin the drill. Then, to the sound of drums, he\n gave the order \"Right turn.\" But the girls only burst out\n laughing. Sun Tzu said: \"If words of command are not clear\n and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, then\n the general is to blame.\"\n So he started drilling them again, and this time gave\n the order \"Left turn,\" whereupon the girls once more burst", "already been completely\nfortified by wall and ditch, when suddenly he gave orders that\nthe army should shift its quarters to a hill near by. This was\nhighly displeasing to his officers, who protested loudly against\nthe extra fatigue which it would entail on the men. P`ei Hsing-\nchien, however, paid no heed to their remonstrances and had the\ncamp moved as quickly as possible. The same night, a terrific\nstorm came on, which flooded their former place of encampment to\nthe depth of over", "and dry weather.\"]\n\nthe material for raising fire should always be kept in readiness.\n\n [Tu Mu suggests as material for making fire: \"dry vegetable\nmatter, reeds, brushwood, straw, grease, oil, etc.\" Here we have\nthe material cause. Chang Yu says: \"vessels for hoarding fire,\nstuff for lighting fires.\"]\n\n 3. There is a proper season for making attacks with fire,\nand special days for starting a conflagration.\n 4. The proper season is", "down the Chao standards and set up the red banners\nof Han in their stead.\" Turning then to his other officers, he\nremarked: \"Our adversary holds a strong position, and is not\nlikely to come out and attack us until he sees the standard and\ndrums of the commander-in-chief, for fear I should turn back and\nescape through the mountains.\" So saying, he first of all sent\nout a division consisting of 10,000 men, and ordered them to form\nin line of battle with their backs to the River Ti.", "tent. See. ss. 26.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to\nthe State.\n 2. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to\nsafety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on\nno account be neglected.\n 3. The art of war, then, is governed by five constant\nfactors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when\nseeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field", "defensive.\" He adds: \"Attack is the secret of defense; defense\nis the planning of an attack.\" It would be hard to find a better\nepitome of the root-principle of war.]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIV. TACTICAL DISPOSITIONS\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains the Chinese meaning of the words for\nthe title of this chapter: \"marching and countermarching on the\npart of the two armies with a view to discovering each other's\ncondition.\" ", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "art of war\nof varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five\nAdvantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.\n\n [Chia Lin tells us that these imply five obvious and\ngenerally advantageous lines of action, namely: \"if a certain\nroad is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it\nmust be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be\nbesieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and\nif consistent with military operations, the", "date. If the general allows the various detachments to proceed\nat haphazard, without precise instructions as to the time and\nplace of meeting, the enemy will be able to annihilate the army\nin detail. Chang Yu's note may be worth quoting here: \"If we do\nnot know the place where our opponents mean to concentrate or the\nday on which they will join battle, our unity will be forfeited\nthrough our preparations for defense, and the positions we hold\nwill be insecure. Suddenly happening upon a powerful foe, ", "a different plan. Let us hasten to\noccupy the defile at the mouth of the Kao-wu pass, thus cutting\nhim off from supplies of water, and when his troops are\nprostrated with thirst, we can dictate our own terms without\nmoving. Or if you think that the pass I mention is too far off,\nwe could make a stand against him at the I-wu pass, which is\nnearer. The cunning and resource of Tzu-fang himself would be\nexpended in vain against the enormous strength of" ], [ "out of the text. Of course, as\nhas already been pointed out, the two are so inextricably\ninterwoven in all military operations, that they cannot really be\nconsidered apart. Here we simply have an expression, in\nfigurative language, of the almost infinite resource of a great\nleader.]\n\n 7. There are not more than five musical notes, yet the\ncombinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can\never be heard.\n 8. There are not more than five primary colors (blue", ".\" It is the sovereign's most precious faculty.\n\n [Cromwell, one of the greatest and most practical of all\ncavalry leaders, had officers styled 'scout masters,' whose\nbusiness it was to collect all possible information regarding the\nenemy, through scouts and spies, etc., and much of his success in\nwar was traceable to the previous knowledge of the enemy's moves\nthus gained.\" [1] ]\n\n 9. Having LOCAL SPIES means employing the services of the\ninhabitants of a", "inhabitants are greedy of gain, and which of\nthe officials are open to corruption.\"]\n\n 23. It is owing to his information, again, that we can\ncause the doomed spy to carry false tidings to the enemy.\n\n [Chang Yu says, \"because the converted spy knows how the\nenemy can best be deceived.\"]\n\n 24. Lastly, it is by his information that the surviving spy\ncan be used on appointed occasions.\n 25. The end and aim of spying in all its five varieties is\nknow", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "humanity or\nbenevolence,\" and the two military virtues of \"courage\" and\n\"strictness\" substituted for \"uprightness of mind\" and \"self-\nrespect, self-control, or 'proper feeling.'\"]\n\n 10. By METHOD AND DISCIPLINE are to be understood the\nmarshaling of the army in its proper subdivisions, the\ngraduations of rank among the officers, the maintenance of roads\nby which supplies may reach the army, and the control of military\nex", ",\nyellow, red, white, and black), yet in combination they produce\nmore hues than can ever been seen.\n 9 There are not more than five cardinal tastes (sour,\nacrid, salt, sweet, bitter), yet combinations of them yield more\nflavors than can ever be tasted.\n 10. In battle, there are not more than two methods of\nattack - the direct and the indirect; yet these two in\ncombination give rise to an endless series of maneuvers.\n 11.", "eliminate the\ndifferences of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to\nutilize accidental features of the ground.\" Less reliable\ntroops, if posted in strong positions, will hold out as long as\nbetter troops on more exposed terrain. The advantage of position\nneutralizes the inferiority in stamina and courage. Col.\nHenderson says: \"With all respect to the text books, and to the\nordinary tactical teaching, I am inclined to think that the study\nof ground is often overlooked, and that by no means sufficient\n", "and\nseasons.\n\n [The commentators, I think, make an unnecessary mystery of\ntwo words here. Meng Shih refers to \"the hard and the soft,\nwaxing and waning\" of Heaven. Wang Hsi, however, may be right in\nsaying that what is meant is \"the general economy of Heaven,\"\nincluding the five elements, the four seasons, wind and clouds,\nand other phenomena.]\n\n 8. EARTH comprises distances, great and small; danger and\nsecurity; open ground and narrow passes; the chances of", "ability to gain an advantage over\nthe enemy. If in my counsels these two considerations are\nproperly blended, I shall succeed in liberating myself.... For\ninstance; if I am surrounded by the enemy and only think of\neffecting an escape, the nervelessness of my policy will incite\nmy adversary to pursue and crush me; it would be far better to\nencourage my men to deliver a bold counter-attack, and use the\nadvantage thus gained to free myself from the enemy's toils.\"\nSee the story of Ts`ao", "the water to be carried down to\nus.]\n\nSo much for river warfare.\n 7. In crossing salt-marshes, your sole concern should be to\nget over them quickly, without any delay.\n\n [Because of the lack of fresh water, the poor quality of the\nherbage, and last but not least, because they are low, flat, and\nexposed to attack.]\n\n 8. If forced to fight in a salt-marsh, you should have\nwater and grass near you, and get your back to a clump of trees", "\ngive them plenty of food and drink, and look after them\ngenerally.\"]\n\nand do not overtax them. Concentrate your energy and hoard your\nstrength.\n\n [Ch`en recalls the line of action adopted in 224 B.C. by the\nfamous general Wang Chien, whose military genius largely\ncontributed to the success of the First Emperor. He had invaded\nthe Ch`u State, where a universal levy was made to oppose him.\nBut, being doubtful of the temper of", "iron. He must be\nactive, robust, endowed with physical strength and courage;\nthoroughly accustomed to all sorts of dirty work, able to endure\nhunger and cold, and to put up with shame and ignominy.\" Ho Shih\ntells the following story of Ta`hsi Wu of the Sui dynasty: \"When\nhe was governor of Eastern Ch`in, Shen-wu of Ch`i made a hostile\nmovement upon Sha-yuan. The Emperor T`ai Tsu [? Kao Tsu]", "emy's own spies, who will carry back just the amount of\ninformation that we choose to give them. Then, having cunningly\ndisclosed our intentions, \"we must manage, though starting after\nthe enemy, to arrive before him (VII. ss. 4). We must start\nafter him in order to ensure his marching thither; we must arrive\nbefore him in order to capture the place without trouble. Taken\nthus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-ch`en's\ninterpretation of ss.", "and\ninfuriated by what he considered the treachery of Li I-chi,\nordered the unfortunate envoy to be boiled alive.]\n\n 13. SURVIVING SPIES, finally, are those who bring back news\nfrom the enemy's camp.\n\n [This is the ordinary class of spies, properly so called,\nforming a regular part of the army. Tu Mu says: \"Your surviving\nspy must be a man of keen intellect, though in outward appearance\na fool; of shabby exterior, but with a will of", "`ao Kung's note is: \"We can merely obstruct the enemy's\nroad or divide his army, but not sweep away all his accumulated\nstores.\" Water can do useful service, but it lacks the terrible\ndestructive power of fire. This is the reason, Chang Yu\nconcludes, why the former is dismissed in a couple of sentences,\nwhereas the attack by fire is discussed in detail. Wu Tzu (ch.\n4) speaks thus of the two elements: \"If an army is encamped on\nlow", "the general receives his commands\nfrom the sovereign.\n 2. Having collected an army and concentrated his forces, he\nmust blend and harmonize the different elements thereof before\npitching his camp.\n\n [\"Chang Yu says: \"the establishment of harmony and\nconfidence between the higher and lower ranks before venturing\ninto the field;\" and he quotes a saying of Wu Tzu (chap. 1 ad\ninit.): \"Without harmony in the State, no military expedition\ncan be undertaken; without harmony in the army, no battle array\ncan be", "to\nbe extracted from our text. Ho Shih has a characteristic tag:\n\"The PEOPLE being regarded as the essential part of the State,\nand FOOD as the people's heaven, is it not right that those in\nauthority should value and be careful of both?\"]\n\nwhile government expenses for broken chariots, worn-out horses,\nbreast-plates and helmets, bows and arrows, spears and shields,\nprotective mantles, draught-oxen and heavy wagons, will amount to\nfour-", "character for 'prowess'\nis made up of [the characters for] 'to stay' and 'a spear'\n(cessation of hostilities). Military prowess is seen in the\nrepression of cruelty, the calling in of weapons, the\npreservation of the appointment of Heaven, the firm establishment\nof merit, the bestowal of happiness on the people, putting\nharmony between the princes, the diffusion of wealth.\"]\n\n 4. Thus, what enables the wise sovereign and the good\ngeneral to", "ch`en point out that the spy is\nprivileged to enter even the general's private sleeping-tent.]\n\nNone should be more liberally rewarded. In no other business\nshould greater secrecy be preserved.\n\n [Tu Mu gives a graphic touch: all communication with spies\nshould be carried \"mouth-to-ear.\" The following remarks on spies\nmay be quoted from Turenne, who made perhaps larger use of them\nthan any previous commander: \"Spies are attached to those who\ngive them most, he who pays them", "employed:\n hence the use of military weapons and wholesale decapitation.\n In both cases, however, the end in view is to get rid of\n wicked people, and to give comfort and relief to the good....\n Chi-sun asked Jan Yu, saying: \"Have you, Sir, acquired\n your military aptitude by study, or is it innate?\" Jan Yu\n replied: \"It has been acquired by study.\" [59] \"How can\n that be so,\" said Chi-sun, \"seeing that you are a disc" ], [ "tent. See. ss. 26.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to\nthe State.\n 2. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to\nsafety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on\nno account be neglected.\n 3. The art of war, then, is governed by five constant\nfactors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when\nseeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field", "out of the text. Of course, as\nhas already been pointed out, the two are so inextricably\ninterwoven in all military operations, that they cannot really be\nconsidered apart. Here we simply have an expression, in\nfigurative language, of the almost infinite resource of a great\nleader.]\n\n 7. There are not more than five musical notes, yet the\ncombinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can\never be heard.\n 8. There are not more than five primary colors (blue", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "art of war\nof varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five\nAdvantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.\n\n [Chia Lin tells us that these imply five obvious and\ngenerally advantageous lines of action, namely: \"if a certain\nroad is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it\nmust be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be\nbesieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and\nif consistent with military operations, the", "and\nseasons.\n\n [The commentators, I think, make an unnecessary mystery of\ntwo words here. Meng Shih refers to \"the hard and the soft,\nwaxing and waning\" of Heaven. Wang Hsi, however, may be right in\nsaying that what is meant is \"the general economy of Heaven,\"\nincluding the five elements, the four seasons, wind and clouds,\nand other phenomena.]\n\n 8. EARTH comprises distances, great and small; danger and\nsecurity; open ground and narrow passes; the chances of", ",\nyellow, red, white, and black), yet in combination they produce\nmore hues than can ever been seen.\n 9 There are not more than five cardinal tastes (sour,\nacrid, salt, sweet, bitter), yet combinations of them yield more\nflavors than can ever be tasted.\n 10. In battle, there are not more than two methods of\nattack - the direct and the indirect; yet these two in\ncombination give rise to an endless series of maneuvers.\n 11.", "verified by mathematical calculation: but\nthe dispositions of an enemy are ascertainable through spies and\nspies alone.\"]\n\n 7. Hence the use of spies, of whom there are five classes:\n(1) Local spies; (2) inward spies; (3) converted spies; (4)\ndoomed spies; (5) surviving spies.\n 8. When these five kinds of spy are all at work, none can\ndiscover the secret system. This is called \"divine manipulation\nof the threads", ".\n 4. These are: (1) The Moral Law; (2) Heaven; (3) Earth;\n(4) The Commander; (5) Method and discipline.\n\n [It appears from what follows that Sun Tzu means by \"Moral\nLaw\" a principle of harmony, not unlike the Tao of Lao Tzu in its\nmoral aspect. One might be tempted to render it by \"morale,\"\nwere it not considered as an attribute of the ruler in ss. 13.]\n\n 5,", "first lay\nplans which will ensure victory, and then lead your army to\nbattle; if you will not begin with stratagem but rely on brute\nstrength alone, victory will no longer be assured.\"]\n\n 16. The consummate leader cultivates the moral law, and\nstrictly adheres to method and discipline; thus it is in his\npower to control success.\n 17. In respect of military method, we have, firstly,\nMeasurement; secondly, Estimation of quantity; thirdly,\n", "penditure.\n 11. These five heads should be familiar to every general:\nhe who knows them will be victorious; he who knows them not will\nfail.\n 12. Therefore, in your deliberations, when seeking to\ndetermine the military conditions, let them be made the basis of\na comparison, in this wise: --\n 13. (1) Which of the two sovereigns is imbued with the\nMoral law?\n\n [I.e., \"is in harmony with his subjects.\" Cf. ss", ". 5.]\n\n (2) Which of the two generals has most ability?\n (3) With whom lie the advantages derived from Heaven and\nEarth?\n\n [See ss. 7,8]\n\n (4) On which side is discipline most rigorously enforced?\n\n [Tu Mu alludes to the remarkable story of Ts`ao Ts`ao (A.D.\n155-220), who was such a strict disciplinarian that once, in\naccordance with his own severe", "inhabitants are greedy of gain, and which of\nthe officials are open to corruption.\"]\n\n 23. It is owing to his information, again, that we can\ncause the doomed spy to carry false tidings to the enemy.\n\n [Chang Yu says, \"because the converted spy knows how the\nenemy can best be deceived.\"]\n\n 24. Lastly, it is by his information that the surviving spy\ncan be used on appointed occasions.\n 25. The end and aim of spying in all its five varieties is\nknow", "\nthe paramount importance in war of rapid evolutions and sudden\nrushes. \"Great results,\" he adds, \"can thus be achieved with\nsmall forces.\"]\n\n\n[1] \"Forty-one Years in India,\" chapter 46.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nVI. WEAK POINTS AND STRONG\n\n\n [Chang Yu attempts to explain the sequence of chapters as\nfollows: \"Chapter IV, on Tactical Dispositions, treated of the\noffensive and the defensive; chapter V, on Energy, ", ".\"]\n\n\n[1] See \"Pensees de Napoleon 1er,\" no. 47.\n\n[2] \"The Science of War,\" chap. 2.\n\n[3] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. xii.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXI. THE NINE SITUATIONS\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war recognizes nine varieties\nof ground: (1) Dispersive ground; (2) facile ground; (3", "enumerate \"variations\"\nbefore touching on \"grounds\" at all, but only mentions five,\nnamely nos. 7, 5, 8 and 9 of the subsequent list, and one that is\nnot included in it. A few varieties of ground are dealt with in\nthe earlier portion of chap. IX, and then chap. X sets forth six\nnew grounds, with six variations of plan to match. None of these\nis mentioned again, though the first is hardly to be\ndistinguished from ground no. 4 in the next", "chapter. At last, in\nchap. XI, we come to the Nine Grounds par excellence, immediately\nfollowed by the variations. This takes us down to ss. 14. In\nSS. 43-45, fresh definitions are provided for nos. 5, 6, 2, 8 and\n9 (in the order given), as well as for the tenth ground noticed\nin chap. VIII; and finally, the nine variations are enumerated\nonce more from beginning to end, all, with the exception of 5, 6\n", "and to make calculations based on the data thus\nobtained; we are thus led to a general weighing-up, or comparison\nof the enemy's chances with our own; if the latter turn the\nscale, then victory ensues. The chief difficulty lies in third\nterm, which in the Chinese some commentators take as a\ncalculation of NUMBERS, thereby making it nearly synonymous with\nthe second term. Perhaps the second term should be thought of as\na consideration of the enemy's general position or condition,\nwhile the third term is the estimate", "points and strong.\n 5. In all fighting, the direct method may be used for\njoining battle, but indirect methods will be needed in order to\nsecure victory.\n\n [Chang Yu says: \"Steadily develop indirect tactics, either\nby pounding the enemy's flanks or falling on his rear.\" A\nbrilliant example of \"indirect tactics\" which decided the\nfortunes of a campaign was Lord Roberts' night march round the\nPeiwar Kotal in the second Afghan war. [1]\n\n 6. ", "that we shall be\nmany to the enemy's few.\n 15. And if we are able thus to attack an inferior force\nwith a superior one, our opponents will be in dire straits.\n 16. The spot where we intend to fight must not be made\nknown; for then the enemy will have to prepare against a possible\nattack at several different points;\n\n [Sheridan once explained the reason of General Grant's\nvictories by saying that \"while his opponents were kept fully\nemployed wondering what he was going to do, HE was thinking" ], [ "\none grudges the outlay of a hundred ounces of silver in honors\nand emoluments,\n\n [\"For spies\" is of course the meaning, though it would spoil\nthe effect of this curiously elaborate exordium if spies were\nactually mentioned at this point.]\n\nis the height of inhumanity.\n\n [Sun Tzu's agreement is certainly ingenious. He begins by\nadverting to the frightful misery and vast expenditure of blood\nand treasure which war always brings in its train. Now, unless\n", "you are kept informed of the enemy's condition, and are ready to\nstrike at the right moment, a war may drag on for years. The\nonly way to get this information is to employ spies, and it is\nimpossible to obtain trustworthy spies unless they are properly\npaid for their services. But it is surely false economy to\ngrudge a comparatively trifling amount for this purpose, when\nevery day that the war lasts eats up an incalculably greater sum.\nThis grievous burden falls on the shoulders of the poor, and", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari", "time of war, one of the families had\nto serve in the army, while the other seven contributed to its\nsupport. Thus, by a levy of 100,000 men (reckoning one able-\nbodied soldier to each family) the husbandry of 700,000 families\nwould be affected.]\n\n 2. Hostile armies may face each other for years, striving\nfor the victory which is decided in a single day. This being so,\nto remain in ignorance of the enemy's condition simply because", "ange country. But it is quite a moot question whether his\ntactics would have proved successful in the long run. Their\nreversal it is true, led to Cannae; but this only establishes a\nnegative presumption in their favor.]\n\n 6. There is no instance of a country having benefited from\nprolonged warfare.\n 7. It is only one who is thoroughly acquainted with the\nevils of war that can thoroughly understand the profitable way of\ncarrying it on.\n\n [That is, with rapidity. ", "u that although he had no practical\nexperience of war, he was extremely fond of discussing the\nsubject, and was moreover well read in the military history of\nthe CH`UN CH`IU and CHAN KUO eras. His notes, therefore, are\nwell worth attention. They are very copious, and replete with\nhistorical parallels. The gist of Sun Tzu's work is thus\nsummarized by him: \"Practice benevolence and justice, but on the\nother hand make full use of", "equal to the strain.\n 4. Now, when your weapons are dulled, your ardor damped,\nyour strength exhausted and your treasure spent, other chieftains\nwill spring up to take advantage of your extremity. Then no man,\nhowever wise, will be able to avert the consequences that must\nensue.\n 5. Thus, though we have heard of stupid haste in war,\ncleverness has never been seen associated with long delays.\n\n [This concise and difficult sentence is not well explained\nby any of the", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "Only one who knows the disastrous\neffects of a long war can realize the supreme importance of\nrapidity in bringing it to a close. Only two commentators seem\nto favor this interpretation, but it fits well into the logic of\nthe context, whereas the rendering, \"He who does not know the\nevils of war cannot appreciate its benefits,\" is distinctly\npointless.]\n\n 8. The skillful soldier does not raise a second levy,\nneither are his supply-wagons loaded more than twice.\n\n [Once war is declared,", "tenths of its total revenue.\n 15. Hence a wise general makes a point of foraging on the\nenemy. One cartload of the enemy's provisions is equivalent to\ntwenty of one's own, and likewise a single PICUL of his provender\nis equivalent to twenty from one's own store.\n\n [Because twenty cartloads will be consumed in the process of\ntransporting one cartload to the front. A PICUL is a unit of\nmeasure equal to 133.3 pounds (65.5 kilograms", " who have to lead an army and devise stratagems, must learn\n the art of war. But if one can command the services of a\n good general like Sun Tzu, who was employed by Wu Tzu-hsu,\n there is no need to learn it oneself. Hence the remark added\n by Confucius: \"If I fight, I conquer.\"\n The men of the present day, however, willfully interpret\n these words of Confucius in their narrowest sense, as though\n he meant that books on the art of", "spent on\nchariots and armor, will reach the total of a thousand ounces of\nsilver per day. Such is the cost of raising an army of 100,000\nmen.\n 2. When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long\nin coming, then men's weapons will grow dull and their ardor will\nbe damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your\nstrength.\n 3. Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of\nthe State will not be", "forage on the\nenemy. Thus the army will have food enough for its needs.\n\n [The Chinese word translated here as \"war material\"\nliterally means \"things to be used\", and is meant in the widest\nsense. It includes all the impedimenta of an army, apart from\nprovisions.]\n\n 10. Poverty of the State exchequer causes an army to be\nmaintained by contributions from a distance. Contributing to\nmaintain an army at a distance causes the people to be", "men\nsent their contributions of corn to the army direct. But why\nshould it fall on them to maintain an army in this way, except\nbecause the State or Government is too poor to do so?]\n\n 11. On the other hand, the proximity of an army causes\nprices to go up; and high prices cause the people's substance to\nbe drained away.\n\n [Wang Hsi says high prices occur before the army has left\nits own territory. Ts`ao Kung understands it of an army that has\nalready crossed the front", ", and none of the commentators\nsucceed in squeezing very good sense out of it. I follow Li\nCh`uan, who appears to offer the simplest explanation: \"Only the\nside that gets more men will win.\" Fortunately we have Chang Yu\nto expound its meaning to us in language which is lucidity\nitself: \"When the numbers are even, and no favorable opening\npresents itself, although we may not be strong enough to deliver\na sustained attack, we can find additional recruits amongst our\nsutlers and camp-followers, and", "his nephew Chi [71] in the\n art of war. Chi got a rough idea of the art in its general\n bearings, but would not pursue his studies to their proper\n outcome, the consequence being that he was finally defeated\n and overthrown. He did not realize that the tricks and\n artifices of war are beyond verbal computation. Duke Hsiang\n of Sung and King Yen of Hsu were brought to destruction by\n their misplaced humanity. The treacherous and underhand\n nature of war", "text.\"]\n\n 27. When there is much running about\n\n [Every man hastening to his proper place under his own\nregimental banner.]\n\nand the soldiers fall into rank, it means that the critical\nmoment has come.\n 28. When some are seen advancing and some retreating, it is\na lure.\n 29. When the soldiers stand leaning on their spears, they\nare faint from want of food.\n 30. If those who are sent to draw water begin by drinking\nthemselves,", "are slain, while the\ntown still remains untaken. Such are the disastrous effects of a\nsiege.\n\n [We are reminded of the terrible losses of the Japanese\nbefore Port Arthur, in the most recent siege which history has to\nrecord.]\n\n 6. Therefore the skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops\nwithout any fighting; he captures their cities without laying\nsiege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy\noperations in the field.\n\n [Chia Lin notes that he only overthrows the", "words of command having\n been thus explained, he set up the halberds and battle-axes\n in order to begin the drill. Then, to the sound of drums, he\n gave the order \"Right turn.\" But the girls only burst out\n laughing. Sun Tzu said: \"If words of command are not clear\n and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, then\n the general is to blame.\"\n So he started drilling them again, and this time gave\n the order \"Left turn,\" whereupon the girls once more burst", "\nbut cannot make certain of defeating the enemy.\n 4. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without\nbeing able to DO it.\n 5. Security against defeat implies defensive tactics;\nability to defeat the enemy means taking the offensive.\n\n [I retain the sense found in a similar passage in ss. 1-3,\nin spite of the fact that the commentators are all against me.\nThe meaning they give, \"He who cannot conquer takes the\ndefensive,\" is plausible enough.]\n\n 6." ], [ "tent. See. ss. 26.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to\nthe State.\n 2. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to\nsafety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on\nno account be neglected.\n 3. The art of war, then, is governed by five constant\nfactors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when\nseeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field", "of which his success\ndepends, are: (1) to capture our favorable positions; (2) to\nravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard his own communications.\"\nOur object then must be to thwart his plans in these three\ndirections and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. ss. 3.] By\nboldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the\nother side on the defensive.]\n\n 19. Rapidity is the essence of war:\n\n [According to Tu", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "\n\nbut a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the\nforces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties,\ndangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.\n 22. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his\nknowledge into practice, will win his battles. He who knows them\nnot, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.\n 23. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must\nfight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not", "that we shall be\nmany to the enemy's few.\n 15. And if we are able thus to attack an inferior force\nwith a superior one, our opponents will be in dire straits.\n 16. The spot where we intend to fight must not be made\nknown; for then the enemy will have to prepare against a possible\nattack at several different points;\n\n [Sheridan once explained the reason of General Grant's\nvictories by saying that \"while his opponents were kept fully\nemployed wondering what he was going to do, HE was thinking", "time of war, one of the families had\nto serve in the army, while the other seven contributed to its\nsupport. Thus, by a levy of 100,000 men (reckoning one able-\nbodied soldier to each family) the husbandry of 700,000 families\nwould be affected.]\n\n 2. Hostile armies may face each other for years, striving\nfor the victory which is decided in a single day. This being so,\nto remain in ignorance of the enemy's condition simply because", "spent on\nchariots and armor, will reach the total of a thousand ounces of\nsilver per day. Such is the cost of raising an army of 100,000\nmen.\n 2. When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long\nin coming, then men's weapons will grow dull and their ardor will\nbe damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your\nstrength.\n 3. Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of\nthe State will not be", "ficially how a battle is won;\nwhat they cannot see is the long series of plans and combinations\nwhich has preceded the battle.]\n\n 28. Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one\nvictory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite\nvariety of circumstances.\n\n [As Wang Hsi sagely remarks: \"There is but one root-\nprinciple underlying victory, but the tactics which lead up to it\nare infinite in number.\" With this compare Col. Henderson: \"The\nrules of strategy are few and", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari", "nothing is to\nbe achieved in war unless you are willing to take risks. T`ai\nKung said: \"He who lets an advantage slip will subsequently\nbring upon himself real disaster.\" In 404 A.D., Liu Yu pursued\nthe rebel Huan Hsuan up the Yangtsze and fought a naval battle\nwith him at the island of Ch`eng-hung. The loyal troops numbered\nonly a few thousands, while their opponents were in great force.\nBut Huan Hsuan, fearing the fate which was in store for him", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "\nThe general who loses a battle makes but few calculations\nbeforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few\ncalculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It\nis by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to\nwin or lose.\n\n\n[1] \"Words on Wellington,\" by Sir. W. Fraser.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nII. WAGING WAR\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung has the note: \"He who wishes to fight must", ". through his neglect of this simple\nprecaution. \"At the head of a large army he was besieging\nCh`ang-she, which was held by Huang-fu Sung. The garrison was\nvery small, and a general feeling of nervousness pervaded the\nranks; so Huang-fu Sung called his officers together and said:\n\"In war, there are various indirect methods of attack, and\nnumbers do not count for everything. [The commentator here\nquotes Sun Tzu, V. SS.", "and to make calculations based on the data thus\nobtained; we are thus led to a general weighing-up, or comparison\nof the enemy's chances with our own; if the latter turn the\nscale, then victory ensues. The chief difficulty lies in third\nterm, which in the Chinese some commentators take as a\ncalculation of NUMBERS, thereby making it nearly synonymous with\nthe second term. Perhaps the second term should be thought of as\na consideration of the enemy's general position or condition,\nwhile the third term is the estimate", "first lay\nplans which will ensure victory, and then lead your army to\nbattle; if you will not begin with stratagem but rely on brute\nstrength alone, victory will no longer be assured.\"]\n\n 16. The consummate leader cultivates the moral law, and\nstrictly adheres to method and discipline; thus it is in his\npower to control success.\n 17. In respect of military method, we have, firstly,\nMeasurement; secondly, Estimation of quantity; thirdly,\n", ". 5.]\n\n (2) Which of the two generals has most ability?\n (3) With whom lie the advantages derived from Heaven and\nEarth?\n\n [See ss. 7,8]\n\n (4) On which side is discipline most rigorously enforced?\n\n [Tu Mu alludes to the remarkable story of Ts`ao Ts`ao (A.D.\n155-220), who was such a strict disciplinarian that once, in\naccordance with his own severe", ". Questioned afterwards by the Duke as to the\nmeaning of his delay, Ts`ao Kuei replied: \"In battle, a\ncourageous spirit is everything. Now the first roll of the drum\ntends to create this spirit, but with the second it is already on\nthe wane, and after the third it is gone altogether. I attacked\nwhen their spirit was gone and ours was at its height. Hence our\nvictory.\" Wu Tzu (chap. 4) puts \"spirit\" first among the \"four\nimportant", ", shun\nplaces that are defended, attack in unexpected quarters.\"]\n\n 7. You can be sure of succeeding in your attacks if you\nonly attack places which are undefended.\n\n [Wang Hsi explains \"undefended places\" as \"weak points; that\nis to say, where the general is lacking in capacity, or the\nsoldiers in spirit; where the walls are not strong enough, or the\nprecautions not strict enough; where relief comes too late, or\nprovisions are too scanty, or the defend", "shall be unable to turn natural advantage to account\nunless we make use of local guides.\n\n [ss. 12-14 are repeated in chap. XI. ss. 52.]\n\n 15. In war, practice dissimulation, and you will succeed.\n\n [In the tactics of Turenne, deception of the enemy,\nespecially as to the numerical strength of his troops, took a\nvery prominent position. [2] ]\n\n 16. Whether to concentrate or to divide your troops, must\nbe decided", "ange country. But it is quite a moot question whether his\ntactics would have proved successful in the long run. Their\nreversal it is true, led to Cannae; but this only establishes a\nnegative presumption in their favor.]\n\n 6. There is no instance of a country having benefited from\nprolonged warfare.\n 7. It is only one who is thoroughly acquainted with the\nevils of war that can thoroughly understand the profitable way of\ncarrying it on.\n\n [That is, with rapidity. " ], [ "s\nstrength, allows an inferior force to engage a larger one, or\nhurls a weak detachment against a powerful one, and neglects to\nplace picked soldiers in the front rank, the result must be ROUT.\n\n [Chang Yu paraphrases the latter part of the sentence and\ncontinues: \"Whenever there is fighting to be done, the keenest\nspirits should be appointed to serve in the front ranks, both in\norder to strengthen the resolution of our own men and to\ndemoralize the enemy.\" Cf. the primi ord", "the\nfront and rear of an army each swiftly responsive to attack on\nthe other, just as though they were part of a single living\nbody?\"]\n\nI should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yueh are\nenemies;\n\n [Cf. VI. ss. 21.]\n\nyet if they are crossing a river in the same boat and are caught\nby a storm, they will come to each other's assistance just as the\nleft hand helps the right.\n\n [The meaning is: If", "too much from individuals.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"He first of all considers the power of his\narmy in the bulk; afterwards he takes individual talent into\naccount, and uses each men according to his capabilities. He\ndoes not demand perfection from the untalented.\"]\n\nHence his ability to pick out the right men and utilize combined\nenergy.\n 22. When he utilizes combined energy, his fighting men\nbecome as it were like unto rolling logs or stones. For it is\nthe nature of a log or stone to remain motion", "of his numerical strength.\nOn the other hand, Tu Mu says: \"The question of relative\nstrength having been settled, we can bring the varied resources\nof cunning into play.\" Ho Shih seconds this interpretation, but\nweakens it. However, it points to the third term as being a\ncalculation of numbers.]\n\n 19. A victorious army opposed to a routed one, is as a\npound's weight placed in the scale against a single grain.\n\n [Literally, \"a victorious army is like", "counterbalanced by\nsuperior energy and discipline.]\n\nif quite unequal in every way, we can flee from him.\n 10. Hence, though an obstinate fight may be made by a small\nforce, in the end it must be captured by the larger force.\n 11. Now the general is the bulwark of the State; if the\nbulwark is complete at all points; the State will be strong; if\nthe bulwark is defective, the State will be weak.\n\n [As Li Ch`uan tersely", ", but Chang Yu\n(after Mei Yao-ch`en) rightly explains it thus: \"If the enemy's\ndispositions are visible, we can make for him in one body;\nwhereas, our own dispositions being kept secret, the enemy will\nbe obliged to divide his forces in order to guard against attack\nfrom every quarter.\"]\n\n 14. We can form a single united body, while the enemy must\nsplit up into fractions. Hence there will be a whole pitted\nagainst separate parts of a whole, which means", "nothing\n in the matter of victory. I say then that victory can be\n achieved.\n\nThe other is in XI. ss. 30: --\n\n Asked if an army can be made to imitate the SHUAI-JAN, I\n should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yueh\n are enemies; yet if they are crossing a river in the same\n boat and are caught by a storm, they will come to each\n other's assistance just as the left hand helps the right.\n\n ", "with this, and with overweening\nconfidence in his own strength, simply tries to intimidate the\nenemy, he will surely be defeated.\" Chang Yu puts his view thus:\n\"If we recklessly attack a large state, our own people will be\ndiscontented and hang back. But if (as will then be the case)\nour display of military force is inferior by half to that of the\nenemy, the other chieftains will take fright and refuse to join\nus.\"]\n\n 55. Hence he does not strive to ally himself", "opponents, and their allies are\nprevented from joining against him.\n\n [Mei Tao-ch`en constructs one of the chains of reasoning\nthat are so much affected by the Chinese: \"In attacking a\npowerful state, if you can divide her forces, you will have a\nsuperiority in strength; if you have a superiority in strength,\nyou will overawe the enemy; if you overawe the enemy, the\nneighboring states will be frightened; and if the neighboring\nstates are frightened, the enemy's allies will be prevented", ". through his neglect of this simple\nprecaution. \"At the head of a large army he was besieging\nCh`ang-she, which was held by Huang-fu Sung. The garrison was\nvery small, and a general feeling of nervousness pervaded the\nranks; so Huang-fu Sung called his officers together and said:\n\"In war, there are various indirect methods of attack, and\nnumbers do not count for everything. [The commentator here\nquotes Sun Tzu, V. SS.", "\nbut cannot make certain of defeating the enemy.\n 4. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without\nbeing able to DO it.\n 5. Security against defeat implies defensive tactics;\nability to defeat the enemy means taking the offensive.\n\n [I retain the sense found in a similar passage in ss. 1-3,\nin spite of the fact that the commentators are all against me.\nThe meaning they give, \"He who cannot conquer takes the\ndefensive,\" is plausible enough.]\n\n 6.", "\nfrom the SHUAI-JAN.]\n\n 32. The principle on which to manage an army is to set up\none standard of courage which all must reach.\n\n [Literally, \"level the courage [of all] as though [it were\nthat of] one.\" If the ideal army is to form a single organic\nwhole, then it follows that the resolution and spirit of its\ncomponent parts must be of the same quality, or at any rate must\nnot fall below a certain standard. Wellington's seemingly\nungrateful", "out of the text. Of course, as\nhas already been pointed out, the two are so inextricably\ninterwoven in all military operations, that they cannot really be\nconsidered apart. Here we simply have an expression, in\nfigurative language, of the almost infinite resource of a great\nleader.]\n\n 7. There are not more than five musical notes, yet the\ncombinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can\never be heard.\n 8. There are not more than five primary colors (blue", "from\njoining her.\" The following gives a stronger meaning: \"If the\ngreat state has once been defeated (before she has had time to\nsummon her allies), then the lesser states will hold aloof and\nrefrain from massing their forces.\" Ch`en Hao and Chang Yu take\nthe sentence in quite another way. The former says: \"Powerful\nthough a prince may be, if he attacks a large state, he will be\nunable to raise enough troops, and must rely to some extent on\nexternal aid; if he dispenses", "is no sign of a quick ear.\n\n [Ho Shih gives as real instances of strength, sharp sight\nand quick hearing: Wu Huo, who could lift a tripod weighing 250\nstone; Li Chu, who at a distance of a hundred paces could see\nobjects no bigger than a mustard seed; and Shih K`uang, a blind\nmusician who could hear the footsteps of a mosquito.]\n\n 11. What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who\nnot only wins, but excels", "regulations against injury to\nstanding crops, he condemned himself to death for having allowed\nhis horse to shy into a field of corn! However, in lieu of\nlosing his head, he was persuaded to satisfy his sense of justice\nby cutting off his hair. Ts`ao Ts`ao's own comment on the\npresent passage is characteristically curt: \"when you lay down a\nlaw, see that it is not disobeyed; if it is disobeyed the\noffender must be put to death.\"]\n\n (5) Which army is stronger?\n", "prevent one's army from running\naway recall the Athenian hero Sophanes, who carried the anchor\nwith him at the battle of Plataea, by means of which he fastened\nhimself firmly to one spot. [See Herodotus, IX. 74.] It is not\nenough, says Sun Tzu, to render flight impossible by such\nmechanical means. You will not succeed unless your men have\ntenacity and unity of purpose, and, above all, a spirit of\nsympathetic cooperation. This is the lesson which can be learned", "ened to the bending of a crossbow;\ndecision, to the releasing of a trigger.\n\n [None of the commentators seem to grasp the real point of\nthe simile of energy and the force stored up in the bent cross-\nbow until released by the finger on the trigger.]\n\n 16. Amid the turmoil and tumult of battle, there may be\nseeming disorder and yet no real disorder at all; amid confusion\nand chaos, your array may be without head or tail, yet it will be\nproof against defeat.\n\n [Me", "an I (20 oz.) weighed\nagainst a SHU (1/24 oz.); a routed army is a SHU weighed against\nan I.\" The point is simply the enormous advantage which a\ndisciplined force, flushed with victory, has over one demoralized\nby defeat.\" Legge, in his note on Mencius, I. 2. ix. 2, makes\nthe I to be 24 Chinese ounces, and corrects Chu Hsi's statement\nthat it equaled 20 oz. only", "ulated fear postulates courage; simulated weakness postulates\nstrength.\n\n [In order to make the translation intelligible, it is\nnecessary to tone down the sharply paradoxical form of the\noriginal. Ts`ao Kung throws out a hint of the meaning in his\nbrief note: \"These things all serve to destroy formation and\nconceal one's condition.\" But Tu Mu is the first to put it quite\nplainly: \"If you wish to feign confusion in order to lure the\nenemy on, you must first have perfect discipline; if" ], [ "ers are variance amongst\nthemselves.\"]\n\nYou can ensure the safety of your defense if you only hold\npositions that cannot be attacked.\n\n [I.e., where there are none of the weak points mentioned\nabove. There is rather a nice point involved in the\ninterpretation of this later clause. Tu Mu, Ch`en Hao, and Mei\nYao-ch`en assume the meaning to be: \"In order to make your\ndefense quite safe, you must defend EVEN those places that are\nnot likely to be", "s`ao Kung says: \"The particular advantage of securing\nheights and defiles is that your actions cannot then be dictated\nby the enemy.\" [For the enunciation of the grand principle\nalluded to, see VI. ss. 2]. Chang Yu tells the following\nanecdote of P`ei Hsing-chien (A.D. 619-682), who was sent on a\npunitive expedition against the Turkic tribes. \"At night he\npitched his camp as usual, and it had", "to the importance of marches, countermarches and\nmaneuvers. He said: \"It is a great mistake to waste men in\ntaking a town when the same expenditure of soldiers will gain a\nprovince.\" [1] ]\n\npositions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign\nwhich must not be obeyed.\n\n [This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence\nfor authority, and Wei Liao Tzu (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to\nexclaim: \"Weapons ", "in order to make\nit clear to everybody that you have no hankering after home.\"]\n\n 4. Ground the possession of which imports great advantage\nto either side, is contentious ground.\n\n [Tu Mu defines the ground as ground \"to be contended for.\"\nTs`ao Kung says: \"ground on which the few and the weak can\ndefeat the many and the strong,\" such as \"the neck of a pass,\"\ninstanced by Li Ch`uan. Thus, Thermopylae was of this\nclassification", "because the possession of it, even for a few days\nonly, meant holding the entire invading army in check and thus\ngaining invaluable time. Cf. Wu Tzu, ch. V. ad init.: \"For\nthose who have to fight in the ratio of one to ten, there is\nnothing better than a narrow pass.\" When Lu Kuang was returning\nfrom his triumphant expedition to Turkestan in 385 A.D., and had\ngot as far as I-ho, laden with spoils, Liang Hsi,", "narrow that a single man defending it can check the onset of ten\nthousand; all means of offense in the hands of the enemy, all\npoints of vantage already forfeited by ourselves:--in this\nterrible plight, even though we had the most valiant soldiers and\nthe keenest of weapons, how could they be employed with the\nslightest effect?\" Students of Greek history may be reminded of\nthe awful close to the Sicilian expedition, and the agony of the\nAthenians under Nicias and Demonsthenes. [", "already been completely\nfortified by wall and ditch, when suddenly he gave orders that\nthe army should shift its quarters to a hill near by. This was\nhighly displeasing to his officers, who protested loudly against\nthe extra fatigue which it would entail on the men. P`ei Hsing-\nchien, however, paid no heed to their remonstrances and had the\ncamp moved as quickly as possible. The same night, a terrific\nstorm came on, which flooded their former place of encampment to\nthe depth of over", "eliminate the\ndifferences of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to\nutilize accidental features of the ground.\" Less reliable\ntroops, if posted in strong positions, will hold out as long as\nbetter troops on more exposed terrain. The advantage of position\nneutralizes the inferiority in stamina and courage. Col.\nHenderson says: \"With all respect to the text books, and to the\nordinary tactical teaching, I am inclined to think that the study\nof ground is often overlooked, and that by no means sufficient\n", "\nthe paramount importance in war of rapid evolutions and sudden\nrushes. \"Great results,\" he adds, \"can thus be achieved with\nsmall forces.\"]\n\n\n[1] \"Forty-one Years in India,\" chapter 46.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nVI. WEAK POINTS AND STRONG\n\n\n [Chang Yu attempts to explain the sequence of chapters as\nfollows: \"Chapter IV, on Tactical Dispositions, treated of the\noffensive and the defensive; chapter V, on Energy, ", " We seek a pitched battle, but in vain;\nyet standing on the defensive, none of us has a moment's respite.\nIf we simply maintain our ground, whole days and months will\ncrawl by; the moment we make a move, we have to sustain the\nenemy's attacks on front and rear. The country is wild,\ndestitute of water and plants; the army is lacking in the\nnecessaries of life, the horses are jaded and the men worn-out,\nall the resources of strength and skill unavailing, the pass so\n", "on the defensive, and avoiding battle. Cf. supra, ss. 11.]\n\nOn facile ground, I would see that there is close connection\nbetween all parts of my army.\n\n [As Tu Mu says, the object is to guard against two possible\ncontingencies: \"(1) the desertion of our own troops; (2) a\nsudden attack on the part of the enemy.\" Cf. VII. ss. 17. Mei\nYao-ch`en says: \"On the march, the", "defensive.\" He adds: \"Attack is the secret of defense; defense\nis the planning of an attack.\" It would be hard to find a better\nepitome of the root-principle of war.]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIV. TACTICAL DISPOSITIONS\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains the Chinese meaning of the words for\nthe title of this chapter: \"marching and countermarching on the\npart of the two armies with a view to discovering each other's\ncondition.\" ", "\nbut cannot make certain of defeating the enemy.\n 4. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without\nbeing able to DO it.\n 5. Security against defeat implies defensive tactics;\nability to defeat the enemy means taking the offensive.\n\n [I retain the sense found in a similar passage in ss. 1-3,\nin spite of the fact that the commentators are all against me.\nThe meaning they give, \"He who cannot conquer takes the\ndefensive,\" is plausible enough.]\n\n 6.", ": \"If I manage to seize a favorable\nposition, but the enemy does not appear on the scene, the\nadvantage thus obtained cannot be turned to any practical\naccount. He who intends therefore, to occupy a position of\nimportance to the enemy, must begin by making an artful\nappointment, so to speak, with his antagonist, and cajole him\ninto going there as well.\" Mei Yao-ch`en explains that this\n\"artful appointment\" is to be made through the medium of the\nen", "of which his success\ndepends, are: (1) to capture our favorable positions; (2) to\nravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard his own communications.\"\nOur object then must be to thwart his plans in these three\ndirections and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. ss. 3.] By\nboldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the\nother side on the defensive.]\n\n 19. Rapidity is the essence of war:\n\n [According to Tu", "importance is attached to the selection of positions... and to\nthe immense advantages that are to be derived, whether you are\ndefending or attacking, from the proper utilization of natural\nfeatures.\" [2] ]\n\n 34. Thus the skillful general conducts his army just as\nthough he were leading a single man, willy-nilly, by the hand.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"The simile has reference to the ease with\nwhich he does it.\"]\n\n 35. It is the business of a general to be quiet and thus", "these two\npositions.\" Liang Hsi, refusing to act on this advice, was\noverwhelmed and swept away by the invader.]\n\n 5. Ground on which each side has liberty of movement is\nopen ground.\n\n [There are various interpretations of the Chinese adjective\nfor this type of ground. Ts`ao Kung says it means \"ground\ncovered with a network of roads,\" like a chessboard. Ho Shih\nsuggested: \"ground on which intercommunication is easy.\"]\n\n 6.", "ate position, you must fight.\n 3. There are roads which must not be followed,\n\n [\"Especially those leading through narrow defiles,\" says Li\nCh`uan, \"where an ambush is to be feared.\"]\n\narmies which must be not attacked,\n\n [More correctly, perhaps, \"there are times when an army must\nnot be attacked.\" Ch`en Hao says: \"When you see your way to\nobtain a rival advantage, but are powerless to inflict a real\ndefeat, refrain from attacking, for fear of", "life of a human being. Just as the duelist who finds his\nadversary's point menacing him with certain death, and his own\nguard astray, is compelled to conform to his adversary's\nmovements, and to content himself with warding off his thrusts,\nso the commander whose communications are suddenly threatened\nfinds himself in a false position, and he will be fortunate if he\nhas not to change all his plans, to split up his force into more\nor less isolated detachments, and to fight with inferior numbers\non ground which he", "ally plausible explanation: \"Supposing the enemy has not yet\nreached the coveted position, and we are behind him, we should\nadvance with all speed in order to dispute its possession.\"\nCh`en Hao, on the other hand, assuming that the enemy has had\ntime to select his own ground, quotes VI. ss. 1, where Sun Tzu\nwarns us against coming exhausted to the attack. His own idea of\nthe situation is rather vaguely expressed: \"If there is a\nfavorable position lying in front of you, det" ], [ "cruelty, to give peace to troublous\n times, to remove difficulties and dangers, and to succor\n those who are in peril. Every animal with blood in its veins\n and horns on its head will fight when it is attacked. How\n much more so will man, who carries in his breast the\n faculties of love and hatred, joy and anger! When he is\n pleased, a feeling of affection springs up within him; when\n angry, his poisoned sting is brought into play. That is", "downwards, we must not pitch\nour camp on the lower reaches of a river, for fear the enemy\nshould open the sluices and sweep us away in a flood. Chu-ko Wu-\nhou has remarked that 'in river warfare we must not advance\nagainst the stream,' which is as much as to say that our fleet\nmust not be anchored below that of the enemy, for then they would\nbe able to take advantage of the current and make short work of\nus.\" There is also the danger, noted by other commentators, that\nthe enemy may throw poison on", "\n\n [Danger has a bracing effect.]\n\n 60. Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating\nourselves to the enemy's purpose.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung says: \"Feign stupidity\"--by an appearance of\nyielding and falling in with the enemy's wishes. Chang Yu's note\nmakes the meaning clear: \"If the enemy shows an inclination to\nadvance, lure him on to do so; if he is anxious to retreat, delay\non purpose that he may", "equal to the strain.\n 4. Now, when your weapons are dulled, your ardor damped,\nyour strength exhausted and your treasure spent, other chieftains\nwill spring up to take advantage of your extremity. Then no man,\nhowever wise, will be able to avert the consequences that must\nensue.\n 5. Thus, though we have heard of stupid haste in war,\ncleverness has never been seen associated with long delays.\n\n [This concise and difficult sentence is not well explained\nby any of the", "\ninterpretation suggested by Mei Yao-ch`en alone, whose words I\nwill quote: \"Those who want to make sure of succeeding in their\nbattles and assaults must seize the favorable moments when they\ncome and not shrink on occasion from heroic measures: that is to\nsay, they must resort to such means of attack of fire, water and\nthe like. What they must not do, and what will prove fatal, is\nto sit still and simply hold to the advantages they have got.\"]\n\n 16. Hence the saying", "\nbut cannot make certain of defeating the enemy.\n 4. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without\nbeing able to DO it.\n 5. Security against defeat implies defensive tactics;\nability to defeat the enemy means taking the offensive.\n\n [I retain the sense found in a similar passage in ss. 1-3,\nin spite of the fact that the commentators are all against me.\nThe meaning they give, \"He who cannot conquer takes the\ndefensive,\" is plausible enough.]\n\n 6.", "behind\nmaking as much noise as possible by banging drums and hammering\non bronze vessels, until heaven and earth were convulsed by the\nuproar. Terror-stricken, the Yen army fled in disorder, hotly\npursued by the men of Ch`i, who succeeded in slaying their\ngeneral Ch`i Chien.... The result of the battle was the ultimate\nrecovery of some seventy cities which had belonged to the Ch`i\nState.\"]\n\nViolent language and driving forward as if to the attack are\nsigns that he will retreat", "the plans that are being formed against you, and\nmoreover disturb the harmony and create a breach between the\nsovereign and his ministers.\" The necessity for extreme caution,\nhowever, in dealing with \"inward spies,\" appears from an\nhistorical incident related by Ho Shih: \"Lo Shang, Governor of\nI-Chou, sent his general Wei Po to attack the rebel Li Hsiung of\nShu in his stronghold at P`i. After each side had experienced a\nnumber of victories and defeats,", "ruler's commands must\nbe obeyed.\" But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a\ngeneral to use these advantages. For instance, \"a certain road\nmay be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds\nin natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it,\nhe will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to\nattack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to\nfight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,\" and so\non.]\n\n", "D. by\nHuang Mei, Teng Ch`iang and others shut himself up behind his\nwalls and refused to fight. Teng Ch`iang said: \"Our adversary\nis of a choleric temper and easily provoked; let us make constant\nsallies and break down his walls, then he will grow angry and\ncome out. Once we can bring his force to battle, it is doomed to\nbe our prey.\" This plan was acted upon, Yao Hsiang came out to\nfight, was lured as", "(when they try to escape from the flames). Pan\nCh`ao, sent on a diplomatic mission to the King of Shan-shan [see\nXI. ss. 51, note], found himself placed in extreme peril by the\nunexpected arrival of an envoy from the Hsiung-nu [the mortal\nenemies of the Chinese]. In consultation with his officers, he\nexclaimed: \"Never venture, never win! [1] The only course open\nto us now is to make an assault by fire on the barbarians", "his nephew Chi [71] in the\n art of war. Chi got a rough idea of the art in its general\n bearings, but would not pursue his studies to their proper\n outcome, the consequence being that he was finally defeated\n and overthrown. He did not realize that the tricks and\n artifices of war are beyond verbal computation. Duke Hsiang\n of Sung and King Yen of Hsu were brought to destruction by\n their misplaced humanity. The treacherous and underhand\n nature of war", "the action\nhas begun. Li Ch`uan alludes to the story of Han Hsin who, when\nabout to attack the vastly superior army of Chao, which was\nstrongly entrenched in the city of Ch`eng-an, said to his\nofficers: \"Gentlemen, we are going to annihilate the enemy, and\nshall meet again at dinner.\" The officers hardly took his words\nseriously, and gave a very dubious assent. But Han Hsin had\nalready worked out in his mind the", ": \"If I manage to seize a favorable\nposition, but the enemy does not appear on the scene, the\nadvantage thus obtained cannot be turned to any practical\naccount. He who intends therefore, to occupy a position of\nimportance to the enemy, must begin by making an artful\nappointment, so to speak, with his antagonist, and cajole him\ninto going there as well.\" Mei Yao-ch`en explains that this\n\"artful appointment\" is to be made through the medium of the\nen", "so that the danger may be in front, and safety lie behind. So\nmuch for campaigning in flat country.\n 10. These are the four useful branches of military\nknowledge\n\n [Those, namely, concerned with (1) mountains, (2) rivers,\n(3) marshes, and (4) plains. Compare Napoleon's \"Military\nMaxims,\" no. 1.]\n\nwhich enabled the Yellow Emperor to vanquish four several\nsovereigns.\n\n [", "marshaled his\n troops.\" The Yellow Emperor, T`ang the Completer and Wu Wang\n all used spears and battle-axes in order to succor their\n generation. The SSU-MA FA says: \"If one man slay another of\n set purpose, he himself may rightfully be slain.\" He who\n relies solely on warlike measures shall be exterminated; he\n who relies solely on peaceful measures shall perish.\n Instances of this are Fu Ch`ai [11] on the one hand and", " The direct and the indirect lead on to each other in\nturn. It is like moving in a circle - you never come to an end.\nWho can exhaust the possibilities of their combination?\n 12. The onset of troops is like the rush of a torrent which\nwill even roll stones along in its course.\n 13. The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of\na falcon which enables it to strike and destroy its victim.\n\n [The Chinese here is tricky and a certain key word in the\ncontext it is used def", "life of a human being. Just as the duelist who finds his\nadversary's point menacing him with certain death, and his own\nguard astray, is compelled to conform to his adversary's\nmovements, and to content himself with warding off his thrusts,\nso the commander whose communications are suddenly threatened\nfinds himself in a false position, and he will be fortunate if he\nhas not to change all his plans, to split up his force into more\nor less isolated detachments, and to fight with inferior numbers\non ground which he", "his not attacking, but rather on the\nfact that we have made our position unassailable.\n 12. There are five dangerous faults which may affect a\ngeneral: (1) Recklessness, which leads to destruction;\n\n [\"Bravery without forethought,\" as Ts`ao Kung analyzes it,\nwhich causes a man to fight blindly and desperately like a mad\nbull. Such an opponent, says Chang Yu, \"must not be encountered\nwith brute force, but may be lured into an ambush and slain.\"\n", "is to be beforehand with the enemy in\nseizing favorable position.\"]\n\nThe difficulty of tactical maneuvering consists in turning the\ndevious into the direct, and misfortune into gain.\n\n [This sentence contains one of those highly condensed and\nsomewhat enigmatical expressions of which Sun Tzu is so fond.\nThis is how it is explained by Ts`ao Kung: \"Make it appear that\nyou are a long way off, then cover the distance rapidly and\narrive on the scene before your opponent.\" Tu Mu says:\n\"" ], [ "\nfact from falsehood, and be able to discriminate between honesty\nand double-dealing.\" Wang Hsi in a different interpretation\nthinks more along the lines of \"intuitive perception\" and\n\"practical intelligence.\" Tu Mu strangely refers these\nattributes to the spies themselves: \"Before using spies we must\nassure ourselves as to their integrity of character and the\nextent of their experience and skill.\" But he continues: \"A\nbrazen face and a crafty disposition are more dangerous than\nmountains or rivers", "inhabitants are greedy of gain, and which of\nthe officials are open to corruption.\"]\n\n 23. It is owing to his information, again, that we can\ncause the doomed spy to carry false tidings to the enemy.\n\n [Chang Yu says, \"because the converted spy knows how the\nenemy can best be deceived.\"]\n\n 24. Lastly, it is by his information that the surviving spy\ncan be used on appointed occasions.\n 25. The end and aim of spying in all its five varieties is\nknow", "emy's own spies, who will carry back just the amount of\ninformation that we choose to give them. Then, having cunningly\ndisclosed our intentions, \"we must manage, though starting after\nthe enemy, to arrive before him (VII. ss. 4). We must start\nafter him in order to ensure his marching thither; we must arrive\nbefore him in order to capture the place without trouble. Taken\nthus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-ch`en's\ninterpretation of ss.", "rieved at\nbeing in subordinate positions, or who have been passed over in\nthe distribution of posts, others who are anxious that their side\nshould be defeated in order that they may have a chance of\ndisplaying their ability and talents, fickle turncoats who always\nwant to have a foot in each boat. Officials of these several\nkinds,\" he continues, \"should be secretly approached and bound to\none's interests by means of rich presents. In this way you will\nbe able to find out the state of affairs in the enemy's country,\nascertain", "the plans that are being formed against you, and\nmoreover disturb the harmony and create a breach between the\nsovereign and his ministers.\" The necessity for extreme caution,\nhowever, in dealing with \"inward spies,\" appears from an\nhistorical incident related by Ho Shih: \"Lo Shang, Governor of\nI-Chou, sent his general Wei Po to attack the rebel Li Hsiung of\nShu in his stronghold at P`i. After each side had experienced a\nnumber of victories and defeats,", "Li Ch`uan says: \"Quantities like length, breadth,\ndistance and magnitude, are susceptible of exact mathematical\ndetermination; human actions cannot be so calculated.\"]\n\n 6. Knowledge of the enemy's dispositions can only be\nobtained from other men.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en has rather an interesting note: \"Knowledge\nof the spirit-world is to be obtained by divination; information\nin natural science may be sought by inductive reasoning; the laws\nof the universe can be", "verified by mathematical calculation: but\nthe dispositions of an enemy are ascertainable through spies and\nspies alone.\"]\n\n 7. Hence the use of spies, of whom there are five classes:\n(1) Local spies; (2) inward spies; (3) converted spies; (4)\ndoomed spies; (5) surviving spies.\n 8. When these five kinds of spy are all at work, none can\ndiscover the secret system. This is called \"divine manipulation\nof the threads", "stronger in numbers, we may prevent\nhim from fighting. Scheme so as to discover his plans and the\nlikelihood of their success.\n\n [An alternative reading offered by Chia Lin is: \"Know\nbeforehand all plans conducive to our success and to the enemy's\nfailure.\"\n\n 23. Rouse him, and learn the principle of his activity or\ninactivity.\n\n [Chang Yu tells us that by noting the joy or anger shown by\nthe enemy on being thus disturbed, we shall be able to conclude\nwhether his", "words only emphasize this point.\" Ho Shih believes\nthen that the two heroes are mentioned on account of their\nsupposed skill in the use of spies. But this is very weak.]\n\n 27. Hence it is only the enlightened ruler and the wise\ngeneral who will use the highest intelligence of the army for\npurposes of spying and thereby they achieve great results.\n\n [Tu Mu closes with a note of warning: \"Just as water, which\ncarries a boat from bank to bank, may also be the means of\nsinking", "arkand\nthen capitulating, Kutcha and the other kingdoms drew off their\nrespective forces. From that time forward, Pan Ch`ao's prestige\ncompletely overawed the countries of the west.\" In this case, we\nsee that the Chinese general not only kept his own officers in\nignorance of his real plans, but actually took the bold step of\ndividing his army in order to deceive the enemy.]\n\n 37. By altering his arrangements and changing his plans,\n\n [Wang Hsi thinks that this means not", "and to make calculations based on the data thus\nobtained; we are thus led to a general weighing-up, or comparison\nof the enemy's chances with our own; if the latter turn the\nscale, then victory ensues. The chief difficulty lies in third\nterm, which in the Chinese some commentators take as a\ncalculation of NUMBERS, thereby making it nearly synonymous with\nthe second term. Perhaps the second term should be thought of as\na consideration of the enemy's general position or condition,\nwhile the third term is the estimate", "\n\n [Danger has a bracing effect.]\n\n 60. Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating\nourselves to the enemy's purpose.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung says: \"Feign stupidity\"--by an appearance of\nyielding and falling in with the enemy's wishes. Chang Yu's note\nmakes the meaning clear: \"If the enemy shows an inclination to\nadvance, lure him on to do so; if he is anxious to retreat, delay\non purpose that he may", "you wish to\ndisplay timidity in order to entrap the enemy, you must have\nextreme courage; if you wish to parade your weakness in order to\nmake the enemy over-confident, you must have exceeding\nstrength.\"]\n\n 18. Hiding order beneath the cloak of disorder is simply a\nquestion of subdivision;\n\n [See supra, ss. 1.]\n\nconcealing courage under a show of timidity presupposes a fund of\nlatent energy;\n\n [The commentators strongly", "defensive.\" He adds: \"Attack is the secret of defense; defense\nis the planning of an attack.\" It would be hard to find a better\nepitome of the root-principle of war.]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIV. TACTICAL DISPOSITIONS\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung explains the Chinese meaning of the words for\nthe title of this chapter: \"marching and countermarching on the\npart of the two armies with a view to discovering each other's\ncondition.\" ", " 7. Hence in the wise leader's plans, considerations of\nadvantage and of disadvantage will be blended together.\n\n [\"Whether in an advantageous position or a disadvantageous\none,\" says Ts`ao Kung, \"the opposite state should be always\npresent to your mind.\"]\n\n 8. If our expectation of advantage be tempered in this way,\nwe may succeed in accomplishing the essential part of our\nschemes.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"If we wish to wrest an advantage from the\nenemy,", "we must not fix our minds on that alone, but allow for the\npossibility of the enemy also doing some harm to us, and let this\nenter as a factor into our calculations.\"]\n\n 9. If, on the other hand, in the midst of difficulties we\nare always ready to seize an advantage, we may extricate\nourselves from misfortune.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"If I wish to extricate myself from a\ndangerous position, I must consider not only the enemy's ability\nto injure me, but also my own", "first tyrannical towards his men, and then in\nterror lest they should mutiny, etc.\" This would connect the\nsentence with what went before about rewards and punishments.]\n\n 38. When envoys are sent with compliments in their mouths,\nit is a sign that the enemy wishes for a truce.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"If the enemy open friendly relations be\nsending hostages, it is a sign that they are anxious for an\narmistice, either because their strength is exhausted or for some", "\none grudges the outlay of a hundred ounces of silver in honors\nand emoluments,\n\n [\"For spies\" is of course the meaning, though it would spoil\nthe effect of this curiously elaborate exordium if spies were\nactually mentioned at this point.]\n\nis the height of inhumanity.\n\n [Sun Tzu's agreement is certainly ingenious. He begins by\nadverting to the frightful misery and vast expenditure of blood\nand treasure which war always brings in its train. Now, unless\n", "truth of their reports.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"Be on your guard against the\npossibility of spies going over to the service of the enemy.\"]\n\n 18. Be subtle! be subtle! and use your spies for every kind\nof business.\n\n [Cf. VI. ss. 9.]\n\n 19. If a secret piece of news is divulged by a spy before\nthe time is ripe, he must be put to death together with the man\nto whom the secret was told.", "details of a clever stratagem,\nwhereby, as he foresaw, he was able to capture the city and\ninflict a crushing defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 9. Neither is it the acme of excellence if you fight and\nconquer and the whole Empire says, \"Well done!\"\n\n [True excellence being, as Tu Mu says: \"To plan secretly,\nto move surreptitiously, to foil the enemy's intentions and balk\nhis schemes, so that at last the day may be won without shedding\n" ], [ "and to make calculations based on the data thus\nobtained; we are thus led to a general weighing-up, or comparison\nof the enemy's chances with our own; if the latter turn the\nscale, then victory ensues. The chief difficulty lies in third\nterm, which in the Chinese some commentators take as a\ncalculation of NUMBERS, thereby making it nearly synonymous with\nthe second term. Perhaps the second term should be thought of as\na consideration of the enemy's general position or condition,\nwhile the third term is the estimate", "offer an\nobstinate resistance when surrounded, to fight hard when he\ncannot help himself, and to obey promptly when he has fallen into\ndanger.\n\n [Chang Yu alludes to the conduct of Pan Ch`ao's devoted\nfollowers in 73 A.D. The story runs thus in the HOU HAN SHU, ch.\n47: \"When Pan Ch`ao arrived at Shan-shan, Kuang, the King of the\ncountry, received him at first with great politeness and respect;\nbut shortly afterwards his behavior under", "\n territory and general enfeeblement. Yet they obstinately\n refuse to modify the position they have taken up. The truth\n is that, just as in the family the teacher must not spare the\n rod, and punishments cannot be dispensed with in the State,\n so military chastisement can never be allowed to fall into\n abeyance in the Empire. All one can say is that this power\n will be exercised wisely by some, foolishly by others, and\n that among those who bear arms some will be loyal", ", who on sighting dust\nraised by the enemy, will gallop back and report it to the\ncommander-in-chief.\" Cf. Gen. Baden-Powell: \"As you move along,\nsay, in a hostile country, your eyes should be looking afar for\nthe enemy or any signs of him: figures, dust rising, birds\ngetting up, glitter of arms, etc.\" [1] ]\n\nWhen it branches out in different directions, it shows that\nparties have been sent to collect firewood. ", "breakfasted at\ntheir leisure. See Livy, XXI, liv. 8, lv. 1 and 8.]\n\nby noonday it has begun to flag; and in the evening, his mind is\nbent only on returning to camp.\n 29. A clever general, therefore, avoids an army when its\nspirit is keen, but attacks it when it is sluggish and inclined\nto return. This is the art of studying moods.\n 30. Disciplined and calm, to await the appearance of\n", "\ngive them plenty of food and drink, and look after them\ngenerally.\"]\n\nand do not overtax them. Concentrate your energy and hoard your\nstrength.\n\n [Ch`en recalls the line of action adopted in 224 B.C. by the\nfamous general Wang Chien, whose military genius largely\ncontributed to the success of the First Emperor. He had invaded\nthe Ch`u State, where a universal levy was made to oppose him.\nBut, being doubtful of the temper of", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "the rules for the nine varieties of ground.]\n\nthe expediency of aggressive or defensive tactics; and the\nfundamental laws of human nature: these are things that must\nmost certainly be studied.\n 42. When invading hostile territory, the general principle\nis, that penetrating deeply brings cohesion; penetrating but a\nshort way means dispersion.\n\n [Cf. supra, ss. 20.]\n\n 43. When you leave your own country behind, and take your\narmy across neighborhood territory, you find yourself", "\n\n 35. The sight of men whispering together in small knots or\nspeaking in subdued tones points to disaffection amongst the rank\nand file.\n 36. Too frequent rewards signify that the enemy is at the\nend of his resources;\n\n [Because, when an army is hard pressed, as Tu Mu says, there\nis always a fear of mutiny, and lavish rewards are given to keep\nthe men in good temper.]\n\ntoo many punishments betray a condition of dire distress.\n\n [Because in such case", "are acquainted with their designs. We are not fit to\nlead an army on the march unless we are familiar with the face of\nthe country--its mountains and forests, its pitfalls and\nprecipices, its marshes and swamps. We shall be unable to turn\nnatural advantages to account unless we make use of local guides.\n\n [These three sentences are repeated from VII. SS. 12-14 --\nin order to emphasize their importance, the commentators seem to\nthink. I prefer to regard them as interpolated here", "betokens nervousness.\n\n 33. If there is disturbance in the camp, the general's\nauthority is weak. If the banners and flags are shifted about,\nsedition is afoot. If the officers are angry, it means that the\nmen are weary.\n\n [Tu Mu understands the sentence differently: \"If all the\nofficers of an army are angry with their general, it means that\nthey are broken with fatigue\" owing to the exertions which he has\ndemanded from them.]\n\n ", "but will approve the words\nof the old Chinese general. Moltke's greatest triumph, the\ncapitulation of the huge French army at Sedan, was won\npractically without bloodshed.]\n\n 3. Thus the highest form of generalship is to balk the\nenemy's plans;\n\n [Perhaps the word \"balk\" falls short of expressing the full\nforce of the Chinese word, which implies not an attitude of\ndefense, whereby one might be content to foil the enemy's\nstr", "life of a human being. Just as the duelist who finds his\nadversary's point menacing him with certain death, and his own\nguard astray, is compelled to conform to his adversary's\nmovements, and to content himself with warding off his thrusts,\nso the commander whose communications are suddenly threatened\nfinds himself in a false position, and he will be fortunate if he\nhas not to change all his plans, to split up his force into more\nor less isolated detachments, and to fight with inferior numbers\non ground which he", "enemy.\n\n [It is hardly necessary to point out the faultiness of this\nclassification. A strange lack of logical perception is shown in\nthe Chinaman's unquestioning acceptance of glaring cross-\ndivisions such as the above.]\n\n 2. Ground which can be freely traversed by both sides is\ncalled ACCESSIBLE.\n 3. With regard to ground of this nature, be before the\nenemy in occupying the raised and sunny spots, and carefully\nguard your line of supplies.\n\n [The general", ".\"]\n\n\n[1] See \"Pensees de Napoleon 1er,\" no. 47.\n\n[2] \"The Science of War,\" chap. 2.\n\n[3] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. xii.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXI. THE NINE SITUATIONS\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war recognizes nine varieties\nof ground: (1) Dispersive ground; (2) facile ground; (3", "\n\nbut a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the\nforces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties,\ndangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.\n 22. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his\nknowledge into practice, will win his battles. He who knows them\nnot, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.\n 23. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must\nfight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not", "to the importance of marches, countermarches and\nmaneuvers. He said: \"It is a great mistake to waste men in\ntaking a town when the same expenditure of soldiers will gain a\nprovince.\" [1] ]\n\npositions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign\nwhich must not be obeyed.\n\n [This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence\nfor authority, and Wei Liao Tzu (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to\nexclaim: \"Weapons ", "eliminate the\ndifferences of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to\nutilize accidental features of the ground.\" Less reliable\ntroops, if posted in strong positions, will hold out as long as\nbetter troops on more exposed terrain. The advantage of position\nneutralizes the inferiority in stamina and courage. Col.\nHenderson says: \"With all respect to the text books, and to the\nordinary tactical teaching, I am inclined to think that the study\nof ground is often overlooked, and that by no means sufficient\n", "are baleful instruments, strife is\nantagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the negation of\ncivil order!\" The unpalatable fact remains, however, that even\nImperial wishes must be subordinated to military necessity.]\n\n 4. The general who thoroughly understands the advantages\nthat accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his\ntroops.\n 5. The general who does not understand these, may be well\nacquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not\nbe able to turn his knowledge to practical", "ruler's commands must\nbe obeyed.\" But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a\ngeneral to use these advantages. For instance, \"a certain road\nmay be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds\nin natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it,\nhe will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to\nattack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to\nfight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,\" and so\non.]\n\n" ], [ ".\"]\n\n\n[1] See \"Pensees de Napoleon 1er,\" no. 47.\n\n[2] \"The Science of War,\" chap. 2.\n\n[3] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. xii.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXI. THE NINE SITUATIONS\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war recognizes nine varieties\nof ground: (1) Dispersive ground; (2) facile ground; (3", "collects his army and concentrates\nhis forces.\n\n [Repeated from VII. ss. 1, where it is certainly more in\nplace. It may have been interpolated here merely in order to\nsupply a beginning to the chapter.]\n\n 2. When in difficult country, do not encamp. In country\nwhere high roads intersect, join hands with your allies. Do not\nlinger in dangerously isolated positions.\n\n [The last situation is not one of the Nine Situations as\ngiven in the beginning of chap. XI,", "tactics to the utmost degree.... I do not know\nwhat Ts`ao Kung makes these Nine Variations out to be, but it has\nbeen suggested that they are connected with the Nine Situations\"\n- of chapt. XI. This is the view adopted by Chang Yu. The only\nother alternative is to suppose that something has been lost--a\nsupposition to which the unusual shortness of the chapter lends\nsome weight.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In war, the general receives his\ncommands from the sovereign,", "between the two.\" Wang Hsi\nsays: \"It is ground separated from home by an interjacent state,\nwhose territory we have had to cross in order to reach it.\nHence, it is incumbent on us to settle our business there\nquickly.\" He adds that this position is of rare occurrence,\nwhich is the reason why it is not included among the Nine\nSituations.]\n\nWhen there are means of communication on all four sides, the\nground is one of intersecting highways.\n 44. When you", "ens--all country that is hard to\ntraverse: this is difficult ground.\n 9. Ground which is reached through narrow gorges, and from\nwhich we can only retire by tortuous paths, so that a small\nnumber of the enemy would suffice to crush a large body of our\nmen: this is hemmed in ground.\n 10. Ground on which we can only be saved from destruction\nby fighting without delay, is desperate ground.\n\n [The situation, as pictured by Ts`ao Kung, is very similar\nto the \"hemmed", "on critical\nground.\n\n [This \"ground\" is curiously mentioned in VIII. ss. 2, but it\ndoes not figure among the Nine Situations or the Six Calamities\nin chap. X. One's first impulse would be to translate it distant\nground,\" but this, if we can trust the commentators, is precisely\nwhat is not meant here. Mei Yao-ch`en says it is \"a position not\nfar enough advanced to be called 'facile,' and not near enough to\nhome to be 'dispersive,' but something", "\n VIII. VARIATION IN TACTICS\n\n\n [The heading means literally \"The Nine Variations,\" but as\nSun Tzu does not appear to enumerate these, and as, indeed, he\nhas already told us (V SS. 6-11) that such deflections from the\nordinary course are practically innumerable, we have little\noption but to follow Wang Hsi, who says that \"Nine\" stands for an\nindefinitely large number. \"All it means is that in warfare we\nought to vary our", "the rules for the nine varieties of ground.]\n\nthe expediency of aggressive or defensive tactics; and the\nfundamental laws of human nature: these are things that must\nmost certainly be studied.\n 42. When invading hostile territory, the general principle\nis, that penetrating deeply brings cohesion; penetrating but a\nshort way means dispersion.\n\n [Cf. supra, ss. 20.]\n\n 43. When you leave your own country behind, and take your\narmy across neighborhood territory, you find yourself", "so that the danger may be in front, and safety lie behind. So\nmuch for campaigning in flat country.\n 10. These are the four useful branches of military\nknowledge\n\n [Those, namely, concerned with (1) mountains, (2) rivers,\n(3) marshes, and (4) plains. Compare Napoleon's \"Military\nMaxims,\" no. 1.]\n\nwhich enabled the Yellow Emperor to vanquish four several\nsovereigns.\n\n [", "and 7, being different from those previously given. Though it is\nimpossible to account for the present state of Sun Tzu's text, a\nfew suggestive facts maybe brought into prominence: (1) Chap.\nVIII, according to the title, should deal with nine variations,\nwhereas only five appear. (2) It is an abnormally short chapter.\n(3) Chap. XI is entitled The Nine Grounds. Several of these are\ndefined twice over, besides which there are two distinct lists of\nthe corresponding variations.", "but occurs later on (ibid.\nss. 43. q.v.). Chang Yu defines this situation as being situated\nacross the frontier, in hostile territory. Li Ch`uan says it is\n\"country in which there are no springs or wells, flocks or herds,\nvegetables or firewood;\" Chia Lin, \"one of gorges, chasms and\nprecipices, without a road by which to advance.\"]\n\nIn hemmed-in situations, you must resort to stratagem. In\ndesper", "war.\n 14. When an army is overthrown and its leader slain, the\ncause will surely be found among these five dangerous faults.\nLet them be a subject of meditation.\n\n\n[1] \"Marshal Turenne,\" p. 50.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIX. THE ARMY ON THE MARCH\n\n\n [The contents of this interesting chapter are better\nindicated in ss. 1 than by this heading.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: We come now to the", "engage the enemy, his troops turned tail and\ndispersed in every direction. After that, the unfortunate man\ncommitted suicide by cutting his throat.]\n\nWhen the officers are too strong and the common soldiers too\nweak, the result is COLLAPSE.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung says: \"The officers are energetic and want to\npress on, the common soldiers are feeble and suddenly collapse.\"]\n\n 17. When the higher officers are angry and insubordinate,\nand on meeting the enemy give battle on their own account from a\nfe", "details of a clever stratagem,\nwhereby, as he foresaw, he was able to capture the city and\ninflict a crushing defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 9. Neither is it the acme of excellence if you fight and\nconquer and the whole Empire says, \"Well done!\"\n\n [True excellence being, as Tu Mu says: \"To plan secretly,\nto move surreptitiously, to foil the enemy's intentions and balk\nhis schemes, so that at last the day may be won without shedding\n", "tent. See. ss. 26.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to\nthe State.\n 2. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to\nsafety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on\nno account be neglected.\n 3. The art of war, then, is governed by five constant\nfactors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when\nseeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field", "we know that the enemy is open to attack, and also\nknow that our men are in a condition to attack, but are unaware\nthat the nature of the ground makes fighting impracticable, we\nhave still gone only halfway towards victory.\n 30. Hence the experienced soldier, once in motion, is never\nbewildered; once he has broken camp, he is never at a loss.\n\n [The reason being, according to Tu Mu, that he has taken his\nmeasures so thoroughly as to ensure victory beforehand. \"He does\nnot move recklessly,\"", "about a third of the chapter, comprising ss. ss. 1-13,\ndeals with \"terrain,\" the subject being more fully treated in ch.\nXI. The \"six calamities\" are discussed in SS. 14-20, and the\nrest of the chapter is again a mere string of desultory remarks,\nthough not less interesting, perhaps, on that account.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: We may distinguish six kinds of terrain,\nto wit: (1) Accessible ground;\n", "may be crushed\nfrom behind; if to the rearward attack, he may be crushed in\nfront.\" This is what is meant by saying that 'one part may be\nused in the regular way, and the other for some special\ndiversion.' Tu Mu does not understand that dividing one's army\nis simply an irregular, just as concentrating it is the regular,\nstrategical method, and he is too hasty in calling this a\nmistake.\"]\n\n 9. If equally matched, we can offer battle;\n\n [Li Ch", " [Or, in the words of VIII. ss. 2, \"do not encamp.]\n\n 14. On hemmed-in ground, resort to stratagem.\n\n [Ts`au Kung says: \"Try the effect of some unusual\nartifice;\" and Tu Yu amplifies this by saying: \"In such a\nposition, some scheme must be devised which will suit the\ncircumstances, and if we can succeed in deluding the enemy, the\nperil may be escaped.\" This is exactly what happened", "ed the business of the general.\n\n [Sun Tzu means that after mobilization there should be no\ndelay in aiming a blow at the enemy's heart. Note how he returns\nagain and again to this point. Among the warring states of\nancient China, desertion was no doubt a much more present fear\nand serious evil than it is in the armies of today.]\n\n 41. The different measures suited to the nine varieties of\nground;\n\n [Chang Yu says: \"One must not be hide-bound in interpreting\n" ], [ ".\" It is the sovereign's most precious faculty.\n\n [Cromwell, one of the greatest and most practical of all\ncavalry leaders, had officers styled 'scout masters,' whose\nbusiness it was to collect all possible information regarding the\nenemy, through scouts and spies, etc., and much of his success in\nwar was traceable to the previous knowledge of the enemy's moves\nthus gained.\" [1] ]\n\n 9. Having LOCAL SPIES means employing the services of the\ninhabitants of a", "inhabitants are greedy of gain, and which of\nthe officials are open to corruption.\"]\n\n 23. It is owing to his information, again, that we can\ncause the doomed spy to carry false tidings to the enemy.\n\n [Chang Yu says, \"because the converted spy knows how the\nenemy can best be deceived.\"]\n\n 24. Lastly, it is by his information that the surviving spy\ncan be used on appointed occasions.\n 25. The end and aim of spying in all its five varieties is\nknow", "it, so reliance on spies, while production of great\nresults, is oft-times the cause of utter destruction.\"]\n\nSpies are a most important element in war, because on them\ndepends an army's ability to move.\n\n [Chia Lin says that an army without spies is like a man with\nears or eyes.]\n\n\n\n[1] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. 2.\n\n[2] \"Marshal Turenne,\" p. 311.\n\n\n", "truth of their reports.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"Be on your guard against the\npossibility of spies going over to the service of the enemy.\"]\n\n 18. Be subtle! be subtle! and use your spies for every kind\nof business.\n\n [Cf. VI. ss. 9.]\n\n 19. If a secret piece of news is divulged by a spy before\nthe time is ripe, he must be put to death together with the man\nto whom the secret was told.", "the plans that are being formed against you, and\nmoreover disturb the harmony and create a breach between the\nsovereign and his ministers.\" The necessity for extreme caution,\nhowever, in dealing with \"inward spies,\" appears from an\nhistorical incident related by Ho Shih: \"Lo Shang, Governor of\nI-Chou, sent his general Wei Po to attack the rebel Li Hsiung of\nShu in his stronghold at P`i. After each side had experienced a\nnumber of victories and defeats,", "ch`en point out that the spy is\nprivileged to enter even the general's private sleeping-tent.]\n\nNone should be more liberally rewarded. In no other business\nshould greater secrecy be preserved.\n\n [Tu Mu gives a graphic touch: all communication with spies\nshould be carried \"mouth-to-ear.\" The following remarks on spies\nmay be quoted from Turenne, who made perhaps larger use of them\nthan any previous commander: \"Spies are attached to those who\ngive them most, he who pays them", "a soldier who was committing some breach of\ndiscipline, they actually stopped to give the culprit a sound\ncudgeling! Thus they managed to return with the fullest possible\ninformation about the enemy's dispositions, and received warm\ncommendation from the Emperor, who in consequence of their report\nwas able to inflict a severe defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 14. Hence it is that which none in the whole army are more\nintimate relations to be maintained than with spies.\n\n [Tu Mu and Mei Yao-", "\nfact from falsehood, and be able to discriminate between honesty\nand double-dealing.\" Wang Hsi in a different interpretation\nthinks more along the lines of \"intuitive perception\" and\n\"practical intelligence.\" Tu Mu strangely refers these\nattributes to the spies themselves: \"Before using spies we must\nassure ourselves as to their integrity of character and the\nextent of their experience and skill.\" But he continues: \"A\nbrazen face and a crafty disposition are more dangerous than\nmountains or rivers", "and\ninfuriated by what he considered the treachery of Li I-chi,\nordered the unfortunate envoy to be boiled alive.]\n\n 13. SURVIVING SPIES, finally, are those who bring back news\nfrom the enemy's camp.\n\n [This is the ordinary class of spies, properly so called,\nforming a regular part of the army. Tu Mu says: \"Your surviving\nspy must be a man of keen intellect, though in outward appearance\na fool; of shabby exterior, but with a will of", "you are kept informed of the enemy's condition, and are ready to\nstrike at the right moment, a war may drag on for years. The\nonly way to get this information is to employ spies, and it is\nimpossible to obtain trustworthy spies unless they are properly\npaid for their services. But it is surely false economy to\ngrudge a comparatively trifling amount for this purpose, when\nevery day that the war lasts eats up an incalculably greater sum.\nThis grievous burden falls on the shoulders of the poor, and", "rieved at\nbeing in subordinate positions, or who have been passed over in\nthe distribution of posts, others who are anxious that their side\nshould be defeated in order that they may have a chance of\ndisplaying their ability and talents, fickle turncoats who always\nwant to have a foot in each boat. Officials of these several\nkinds,\" he continues, \"should be secretly approached and bound to\none's interests by means of rich presents. In this way you will\nbe able to find out the state of affairs in the enemy's country,\nascertain", "words only emphasize this point.\" Ho Shih believes\nthen that the two heroes are mentioned on account of their\nsupposed skill in the use of spies. But this is very weak.]\n\n 27. Hence it is only the enlightened ruler and the wise\ngeneral who will use the highest intelligence of the army for\npurposes of spying and thereby they achieve great results.\n\n [Tu Mu closes with a note of warning: \"Just as water, which\ncarries a boat from bank to bank, may also be the means of\nsinking", "and by the wily Fan Chu in 260 B.C.,\nwhen Lien P`o was conducting a defensive campaign against Ch`in.\nThe King of Chao strongly disapproved of Lien P`o's cautious and\ndilatory methods, which had been unable to avert a series of\nminor disasters, and therefore lent a ready ear to the reports of\nhis spies, who had secretly gone over to the enemy and were\nalready in Fan Chu's pay. They said: \"The only thing", "administration of our officials also require steady\n application and practice before efficiency is reached. The\n ancients were particularly chary of allowing mere novices to\n botch their work. [68] Weapons are baneful [69] and fighting\n perilous; and useless unless a general is in constant\n practice, he ought not to hazard other men's lives in battle.\n [70] Hence it is essential that Sun Tzu's 13 chapters should\n be studied.\n Hsiang Liang used to instruct", "\nensure secrecy; upright and just, and thus maintain order.\n 36. He must be able to mystify his officers and men by\nfalse reports and appearances,\n\n [Literally, \"to deceive their eyes and ears.\"]\n\nand thus keep them in total ignorance.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung gives us one of his excellent apophthegms: \"The\ntroops must not be allowed to share your schemes in the\nbeginning; they may only rejoice with you over their happy\noutcome.\" \"To myst", "ought out, tempted with bribes, led away and comfortably housed.\nThus they will become converted spies and available for our\nservice.\n 22. It is through the information brought by the converted\nspy that we are able to acquire and employ local and inward\nspies.\n\n [Tu Yu says: \"through conversion of the enemy's spies we\nlearn the enemy's condition.\" And Chang Yu says: \"We must tempt\nthe converted spy into our service, because it is he that knows\nwhich of the local", "'Many years ago, Lord Wu performed a similar service for my\nhusband, who never left him afterwards, and finally met his death\nat the hands of the enemy. And now that he has done the same for\nmy son, he too will fall fighting I know not where.'\" Li Ch`uan\nmentions the Viscount of Ch`u, who invaded the small state of\nHsiao during the winter. The Duke of Shen said to him: \"Many of\nthe soldiers are suffering severely from the cold.\" So he made a\nround of the whole army,", "ill is never served. They\nshould never be known to anybody; nor should they know one\nanother. When they propose anything very material, secure their\npersons, or have in your possession their wives and children as\nhostages for their fidelity. Never communicate anything to them\nbut what is absolutely necessary that they should know. [2] ]\n\n 15. Spies cannot be usefully employed without a certain\nintuitive sagacity.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"In order to use them, one must know", "iger's cubs.\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXIII. THE USE OF SPIES\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: Raising a host of a hundred thousand men\nand marching them great distances entails heavy loss on the\npeople and a drain on the resources of the State. The daily\nexpenditure will amount to a thousand ounces of silver.\n\n [Cf. II. ss. ss. 1, 13, 14.]\n\nThere will be commotion at home and abroad, and men", "emy's own spies, who will carry back just the amount of\ninformation that we choose to give them. Then, having cunningly\ndisclosed our intentions, \"we must manage, though starting after\nthe enemy, to arrive before him (VII. ss. 4). We must start\nafter him in order to ensure his marching thither; we must arrive\nbefore him in order to capture the place without trouble. Taken\nthus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-ch`en's\ninterpretation of ss." ], [ "of which his success\ndepends, are: (1) to capture our favorable positions; (2) to\nravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard his own communications.\"\nOur object then must be to thwart his plans in these three\ndirections and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. ss. 3.] By\nboldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the\nother side on the defensive.]\n\n 19. Rapidity is the essence of war:\n\n [According to Tu", "a practical soldier, will have none of the\n\"bookish theoric.\" He cautions us here not to pin our faith to\nabstract principles; \"for,\" as Chang Yu puts it, \"while the main\nlaws of strategy can be stated clearly enough for the benefit of\nall and sundry, you must be guided by the actions of the enemy in\nattempting to secure a favorable position in actual warfare.\" On\nthe eve of the battle of Waterloo, Lord Uxbridge, commanding the\ncavalry, went to the Duke of Welling", "\n\nbut a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the\nforces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties,\ndangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.\n 22. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his\nknowledge into practice, will win his battles. He who knows them\nnot, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.\n 23. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must\nfight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not", "\nThe general who loses a battle makes but few calculations\nbeforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few\ncalculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It\nis by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to\nwin or lose.\n\n\n[1] \"Words on Wellington,\" by Sir. W. Fraser.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nII. WAGING WAR\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung has the note: \"He who wishes to fight must", "nothing is to\nbe achieved in war unless you are willing to take risks. T`ai\nKung said: \"He who lets an advantage slip will subsequently\nbring upon himself real disaster.\" In 404 A.D., Liu Yu pursued\nthe rebel Huan Hsuan up the Yangtsze and fought a naval battle\nwith him at the island of Ch`eng-hung. The loyal troops numbered\nonly a few thousands, while their opponents were in great force.\nBut Huan Hsuan, fearing the fate which was in store for him", "like temper; the profession of arms\nrequires a combination of hardness and tenderness.\"]\n\nThis is a certain road to victory.\n\n 44. If in training soldiers commands are habitually\nenforced, the army will be well-disciplined; if not, its\ndiscipline will be bad.\n 45. If a general shows confidence in his men but always\ninsists on his orders being obeyed,\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"A general ought in time of peace to show\nkindly confidence in his men and", "\n\n [Danger has a bracing effect.]\n\n 60. Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating\nourselves to the enemy's purpose.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung says: \"Feign stupidity\"--by an appearance of\nyielding and falling in with the enemy's wishes. Chang Yu's note\nmakes the meaning clear: \"If the enemy shows an inclination to\nadvance, lure him on to do so; if he is anxious to retreat, delay\non purpose that he may", "Cf. Wu Tzu, chap. IV. ad init.: \"In estimating the character of\na general, men are wont to pay exclusive attention to his\ncourage, forgetting that courage is only one out of many\nqualities which a general should possess. The merely brave man\nis prone to fight recklessly; and he who fights recklessly,\nwithout any perception of what is expedient, must be condemned.\"\nSsu-ma Fa, too, make the incisive remark: \"Simply going to one's\ndeath does not", "ficially how a battle is won;\nwhat they cannot see is the long series of plans and combinations\nwhich has preceded the battle.]\n\n 28. Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one\nvictory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite\nvariety of circumstances.\n\n [As Wang Hsi sagely remarks: \"There is but one root-\nprinciple underlying victory, but the tactics which lead up to it\nare infinite in number.\" With this compare Col. Henderson: \"The\nrules of strategy are few and", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari", "time of war, one of the families had\nto serve in the army, while the other seven contributed to its\nsupport. Thus, by a levy of 100,000 men (reckoning one able-\nbodied soldier to each family) the husbandry of 700,000 families\nwould be affected.]\n\n 2. Hostile armies may face each other for years, striving\nfor the victory which is decided in a single day. This being so,\nto remain in ignorance of the enemy's condition simply because", " who have to lead an army and devise stratagems, must learn\n the art of war. But if one can command the services of a\n good general like Sun Tzu, who was employed by Wu Tzu-hsu,\n there is no need to learn it oneself. Hence the remark added\n by Confucius: \"If I fight, I conquer.\"\n The men of the present day, however, willfully interpret\n these words of Confucius in their narrowest sense, as though\n he meant that books on the art of", ". Questioned afterwards by the Duke as to the\nmeaning of his delay, Ts`ao Kuei replied: \"In battle, a\ncourageous spirit is everything. Now the first roll of the drum\ntends to create this spirit, but with the second it is already on\nthe wane, and after the third it is gone altogether. I attacked\nwhen their spirit was gone and ours was at its height. Hence our\nvictory.\" Wu Tzu (chap. 4) puts \"spirit\" first among the \"four\nimportant", "Like water, taking the line of least resistance.]\n\n 31. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the\nground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in\nrelation to the foe whom he is facing.\n 32. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so\nin warfare there are no constant conditions.\n 33. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his\nopponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-\nborn captain.\n 34. The five elements (water,", "u that although he had no practical\nexperience of war, he was extremely fond of discussing the\nsubject, and was moreover well read in the military history of\nthe CH`UN CH`IU and CHAN KUO eras. His notes, therefore, are\nwell worth attention. They are very copious, and replete with\nhistorical parallels. The gist of Sun Tzu's work is thus\nsummarized by him: \"Practice benevolence and justice, but on the\nother hand make full use of", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "opportunities. Now is the time to strike, before Hsiao Hsien\neven knows that we have got an army together. If we seize the\npresent moment when the river is in flood, we shall appear before\nhis capital with startling suddenness, like the thunder which is\nheard before you have time to stop your ears against it. [See\nVII. ss. 19, note.] This is the great principle in war. Even if\nhe gets to know of our approach, he will have to levy his\nsoldiers in such a", "tent. See. ss. 26.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to\nthe State.\n 2. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to\nsafety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on\nno account be neglected.\n 3. The art of war, then, is governed by five constant\nfactors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when\nseeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field", " It was autumn, and the Yangtsze being then in flood,\nHsiao Hsien never dreamt that his adversary would venture to come\ndown through the gorges, and consequently made no preparations.\nBut Li Ching embarked his army without loss of time, and was just\nabout to start when the other generals implored him to postpone\nhis departure until the river was in a less dangerous state for\nnavigation. Li Ching replied: \"To the soldier, overwhelming\nspeed is of paramount importance, and he must never miss\n", "\nfrom the SHUAI-JAN.]\n\n 32. The principle on which to manage an army is to set up\none standard of courage which all must reach.\n\n [Literally, \"level the courage [of all] as though [it were\nthat of] one.\" If the ideal army is to form a single organic\nwhole, then it follows that the resolution and spirit of its\ncomponent parts must be of the same quality, or at any rate must\nnot fall below a certain standard. Wellington's seemingly\nungrateful" ], [ "and dry weather.\"]\n\nthe material for raising fire should always be kept in readiness.\n\n [Tu Mu suggests as material for making fire: \"dry vegetable\nmatter, reeds, brushwood, straw, grease, oil, etc.\" Here we have\nthe material cause. Chang Yu says: \"vessels for hoarding fire,\nstuff for lighting fires.\"]\n\n 3. There is a proper season for making attacks with fire,\nand special days for starting a conflagration.\n 4. The proper season is", "[Tu Mu says that the things contained in \"arsenals\" and\n\"magazines\" are the same. He specifies weapons and other\nimplements, bullion and clothing. Cf. VII. ss. 11.]\n\nthe fifth is to hurl dropping fire amongst the enemy.\n\n [Tu Yu says in the T`UNG TIEN: \"To drop fire into the\nenemy's camp. The method by which this may be done is to set the\ntips of arrows alight by dipping them", "and\nseasons.\n\n [The commentators, I think, make an unnecessary mystery of\ntwo words here. Meng Shih refers to \"the hard and the soft,\nwaxing and waning\" of Heaven. Wang Hsi, however, may be right in\nsaying that what is meant is \"the general economy of Heaven,\"\nincluding the five elements, the four seasons, wind and clouds,\nand other phenomena.]\n\n 8. EARTH comprises distances, great and small; danger and\nsecurity; open ground and narrow passes; the chances of", "are precipitous cliffs with\ntorrents running between, deep natural hollows,\n\n [The latter defined as \"places enclosed on every side by\nsteep banks, with pools of water at the bottom.]\n\nconfined places,\n\n [Defined as \"natural pens or prisons\" or \"places surrounded\nby precipices on three sides--easy to get into, but hard to get\nout of.\"]\n\ntangled thickets,\n\n [Defined as \"places covered with such dense undergrowth that\nspears cannot be used", ".\" Considering the enormous amount of fighting\nthat had gone on for centuries before Sun Tzu's time between the\nvarious kingdoms and principalities of China, it is not in itself\nimprobable that a collection of military maxims should have been\nmade and written down at some earlier period.]\n\nOn the field of battle,\n\n [Implied, though not actually in the Chinese.]\n\nthe spoken word does not carry far enough: hence the institution\nof gongs and drums. Nor can ordinary objects be seen clearly\nenough: hence the institution of banners", "employed:\n hence the use of military weapons and wholesale decapitation.\n In both cases, however, the end in view is to get rid of\n wicked people, and to give comfort and relief to the good....\n Chi-sun asked Jan Yu, saying: \"Have you, Sir, acquired\n your military aptitude by study, or is it innate?\" Jan Yu\n replied: \"It has been acquired by study.\" [59] \"How can\n that be so,\" said Chi-sun, \"seeing that you are a disc", "are baleful instruments, strife is\nantagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the negation of\ncivil order!\" The unpalatable fact remains, however, that even\nImperial wishes must be subordinated to military necessity.]\n\n 4. The general who thoroughly understands the advantages\nthat accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his\ntroops.\n 5. The general who does not understand these, may be well\nacquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not\nbe able to turn his knowledge to practical", "`ao Kung's note is: \"We can merely obstruct the enemy's\nroad or divide his army, but not sweep away all his accumulated\nstores.\" Water can do useful service, but it lacks the terrible\ndestructive power of fire. This is the reason, Chang Yu\nconcludes, why the former is dismissed in a couple of sentences,\nwhereas the attack by fire is discussed in detail. Wu Tzu (ch.\n4) speaks thus of the two elements: \"If an army is encamped on\nlow", "come across.]\n\n 22. The rising of birds in their flight is the sign of an\nambuscade.\n\n [Chang Yu's explanation is doubtless right: \"When birds\nthat are flying along in a straight line suddenly shoot upwards,\nit means that soldiers are in ambush at the spot beneath.\"]\n\nStartled beasts indicate that a sudden attack is coming.\n 23. When there is dust rising in a high column, it is the\nsign of chariots advancing; when the dust is low, but spread over\na wide", "or Wei Wu Ti, for his edition of Sun Tzu. I shall give it\nin full: --\n\n I have heard that the ancients used bows and arrows to\n their advantage. [10] The SHU CHU mentions \"the army\" among\n the \"eight objects of government.\" The I CHING says:\n \"'army' indicates firmness and justice; the experienced\n leader will have good fortune.\" The SHIH CHING says: \"The\n King rose majestic in his wrath, and he", "officials. But the wielding of huge\n armies, the throwing down of fortified cities, the hauling of\n women and children into captivity, and the beheading of\n traitors -- this is also work which is done by officials.\n The objects of the rack and of military weapons are\n essentially the same. There is no intrinsic difference\n between the punishment of flogging and cutting off heads in\n war. For the lesser infractions of law, which are easily\n dealt with, only a small amount of force need be", "words of command having\n been thus explained, he set up the halberds and battle-axes\n in order to begin the drill. Then, to the sound of drums, he\n gave the order \"Right turn.\" But the girls only burst out\n laughing. Sun Tzu said: \"If words of command are not clear\n and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, then\n the general is to blame.\"\n So he started drilling them again, and this time gave\n the order \"Left turn,\" whereupon the girls once more burst", "marshaled his\n troops.\" The Yellow Emperor, T`ang the Completer and Wu Wang\n all used spears and battle-axes in order to succor their\n generation. The SSU-MA FA says: \"If one man slay another of\n set purpose, he himself may rightfully be slain.\" He who\n relies solely on warlike measures shall be exterminated; he\n who relies solely on peaceful measures shall perish.\n Instances of this are Fu Ch`ai [11] on the one hand and", "administration of our officials also require steady\n application and practice before efficiency is reached. The\n ancients were particularly chary of allowing mere novices to\n botch their work. [68] Weapons are baneful [69] and fighting\n perilous; and useless unless a general is in constant\n practice, he ought not to hazard other men's lives in battle.\n [70] Hence it is essential that Sun Tzu's 13 chapters should\n be studied.\n Hsiang Liang used to instruct", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "he cannot fathom our real intent.'\"\nTo put it perhaps a little more clearly: any attack or other\noperation is CHENG, on which the enemy has had his attention\nfixed; whereas that is CH`I,\" which takes him by surprise or\ncomes from an unexpected quarter. If the enemy perceives a\nmovement which is meant to be CH`I,\" it immediately becomes\nCHENG.\"]\n\n 4. That the impact of your army may be like a grindstone\ndashed against an egg - this is effected by the science of weak\n", "already been completely\nfortified by wall and ditch, when suddenly he gave orders that\nthe army should shift its quarters to a hill near by. This was\nhighly displeasing to his officers, who protested loudly against\nthe extra fatigue which it would entail on the men. P`ei Hsing-\nchien, however, paid no heed to their remonstrances and had the\ncamp moved as quickly as possible. The same night, a terrific\nstorm came on, which flooded their former place of encampment to\nthe depth of over", "the\n natural law which governs his being.... What then shall be\n said of those scholars of our time, blind to all great\n issues, and without any appreciation of relative values, who\n can only bark out their stale formulas about \"virtue\" and\n \"civilization,\" condemning the use of military weapons? They\n will surely bring our country to impotence and dishonor and\n the loss of her rightful heritage; or, at the very least,\n they will bring about invasion and rebellion, sacrifice of", ": \"Your soldiers,\n Sire, are now properly drilled and disciplined, and ready for\n your majesty's inspection. They can be put to any use that\n their sovereign may desire; bid them go through fire and\n water, and they will not disobey.\"\n But the King replied: \"Let our general cease drilling\n and return to camp. As for us, We have no wish to come down\n and inspect the troops.\"\n Thereupon Sun Tzu said: \"The King is only fond of\n", ", who on sighting dust\nraised by the enemy, will gallop back and report it to the\ncommander-in-chief.\" Cf. Gen. Baden-Powell: \"As you move along,\nsay, in a hostile country, your eyes should be looking afar for\nthe enemy or any signs of him: figures, dust rising, birds\ngetting up, glitter of arms, etc.\" [1] ]\n\nWhen it branches out in different directions, it shows that\nparties have been sent to collect firewood. " ], [ ".\" It is the sovereign's most precious faculty.\n\n [Cromwell, one of the greatest and most practical of all\ncavalry leaders, had officers styled 'scout masters,' whose\nbusiness it was to collect all possible information regarding the\nenemy, through scouts and spies, etc., and much of his success in\nwar was traceable to the previous knowledge of the enemy's moves\nthus gained.\" [1] ]\n\n 9. Having LOCAL SPIES means employing the services of the\ninhabitants of a", "it, so reliance on spies, while production of great\nresults, is oft-times the cause of utter destruction.\"]\n\nSpies are a most important element in war, because on them\ndepends an army's ability to move.\n\n [Chia Lin says that an army without spies is like a man with\nears or eyes.]\n\n\n\n[1] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. 2.\n\n[2] \"Marshal Turenne,\" p. 311.\n\n\n", "inhabitants are greedy of gain, and which of\nthe officials are open to corruption.\"]\n\n 23. It is owing to his information, again, that we can\ncause the doomed spy to carry false tidings to the enemy.\n\n [Chang Yu says, \"because the converted spy knows how the\nenemy can best be deceived.\"]\n\n 24. Lastly, it is by his information that the surviving spy\ncan be used on appointed occasions.\n 25. The end and aim of spying in all its five varieties is\nknow", "ch`en point out that the spy is\nprivileged to enter even the general's private sleeping-tent.]\n\nNone should be more liberally rewarded. In no other business\nshould greater secrecy be preserved.\n\n [Tu Mu gives a graphic touch: all communication with spies\nshould be carried \"mouth-to-ear.\" The following remarks on spies\nmay be quoted from Turenne, who made perhaps larger use of them\nthan any previous commander: \"Spies are attached to those who\ngive them most, he who pays them", "verified by mathematical calculation: but\nthe dispositions of an enemy are ascertainable through spies and\nspies alone.\"]\n\n 7. Hence the use of spies, of whom there are five classes:\n(1) Local spies; (2) inward spies; (3) converted spies; (4)\ndoomed spies; (5) surviving spies.\n 8. When these five kinds of spy are all at work, none can\ndiscover the secret system. This is called \"divine manipulation\nof the threads", "words only emphasize this point.\" Ho Shih believes\nthen that the two heroes are mentioned on account of their\nsupposed skill in the use of spies. But this is very weak.]\n\n 27. Hence it is only the enlightened ruler and the wise\ngeneral who will use the highest intelligence of the army for\npurposes of spying and thereby they achieve great results.\n\n [Tu Mu closes with a note of warning: \"Just as water, which\ncarries a boat from bank to bank, may also be the means of\nsinking", "the plans that are being formed against you, and\nmoreover disturb the harmony and create a breach between the\nsovereign and his ministers.\" The necessity for extreme caution,\nhowever, in dealing with \"inward spies,\" appears from an\nhistorical incident related by Ho Shih: \"Lo Shang, Governor of\nI-Chou, sent his general Wei Po to attack the rebel Li Hsiung of\nShu in his stronghold at P`i. After each side had experienced a\nnumber of victories and defeats,", "and\ninfuriated by what he considered the treachery of Li I-chi,\nordered the unfortunate envoy to be boiled alive.]\n\n 13. SURVIVING SPIES, finally, are those who bring back news\nfrom the enemy's camp.\n\n [This is the ordinary class of spies, properly so called,\nforming a regular part of the army. Tu Mu says: \"Your surviving\nspy must be a man of keen intellect, though in outward appearance\na fool; of shabby exterior, but with a will of", "district.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"In the enemy's country, win people over by\nkind treatment, and use them as spies.\"]\n\n 10. Having INWARD SPIES, making use of officials of the\nenemy.\n\n [Tu Mu enumerates the following classes as likely to do good\nservice in this respect: \"Worthy men who have been degraded from\noffice, criminals who have undergone punishment; also, favorite\nconcubines who are greedy for gold, men who are agg", "visitors\", is equivalent, as Tu Yu says, to\n\"those whose duty it is to keep the general supplied with\ninformation,\" which naturally necessitates frequent interviews\nwith him.]\n\nand door-keepers and sentries of the general in command. Our\nspies must be commissioned to ascertain these.\n\n [As the first step, no doubt towards finding out if any of\nthese important functionaries can be won over by bribery.]\n\n 21. The enemy's spies who have come to spy on us must be\ns", "a soldier who was committing some breach of\ndiscipline, they actually stopped to give the culprit a sound\ncudgeling! Thus they managed to return with the fullest possible\ninformation about the enemy's dispositions, and received warm\ncommendation from the Emperor, who in consequence of their report\nwas able to inflict a severe defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 14. Hence it is that which none in the whole army are more\nintimate relations to be maintained than with spies.\n\n [Tu Mu and Mei Yao-", "iger's cubs.\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nXIII. THE USE OF SPIES\n\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: Raising a host of a hundred thousand men\nand marching them great distances entails heavy loss on the\npeople and a drain on the resources of the State. The daily\nexpenditure will amount to a thousand ounces of silver.\n\n [Cf. II. ss. ss. 1, 13, 14.]\n\nThere will be commotion at home and abroad, and men", "emy's own spies, who will carry back just the amount of\ninformation that we choose to give them. Then, having cunningly\ndisclosed our intentions, \"we must manage, though starting after\nthe enemy, to arrive before him (VII. ss. 4). We must start\nafter him in order to ensure his marching thither; we must arrive\nbefore him in order to capture the place without trouble. Taken\nthus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-ch`en's\ninterpretation of ss.", "you are kept informed of the enemy's condition, and are ready to\nstrike at the right moment, a war may drag on for years. The\nonly way to get this information is to employ spies, and it is\nimpossible to obtain trustworthy spies unless they are properly\npaid for their services. But it is surely false economy to\ngrudge a comparatively trifling amount for this purpose, when\nevery day that the war lasts eats up an incalculably greater sum.\nThis grievous burden falls on the shoulders of the poor, and", "truth of their reports.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"Be on your guard against the\npossibility of spies going over to the service of the enemy.\"]\n\n 18. Be subtle! be subtle! and use your spies for every kind\nof business.\n\n [Cf. VI. ss. 9.]\n\n 19. If a secret piece of news is divulged by a spy before\nthe time is ripe, he must be put to death together with the man\nto whom the secret was told.", "ill is never served. They\nshould never be known to anybody; nor should they know one\nanother. When they propose anything very material, secure their\npersons, or have in your possession their wives and children as\nhostages for their fidelity. Never communicate anything to them\nbut what is absolutely necessary that they should know. [2] ]\n\n 15. Spies cannot be usefully employed without a certain\nintuitive sagacity.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en says: \"In order to use them, one must know", "\nhence Sun Tzu concludes that to neglect the use of spies is\nnothing less than a crime against humanity.]\n\n 3. One who acts thus is no leader of men, no present help\nto his sovereign, no master of victory.\n\n [This idea, that the true object of war is peace, has its\nroot in the national temperament of the Chinese. Even so far\nback as 597 B.C., these memorable words were uttered by Prince\nChuang of the Ch`u State: \"The [Chinese]", "ought out, tempted with bribes, led away and comfortably housed.\nThus they will become converted spies and available for our\nservice.\n 22. It is through the information brought by the converted\nspy that we are able to acquire and employ local and inward\nspies.\n\n [Tu Yu says: \"through conversion of the enemy's spies we\nlearn the enemy's condition.\" And Chang Yu says: \"We must tempt\nthe converted spy into our service, because it is he that knows\nwhich of the local", "\nfact from falsehood, and be able to discriminate between honesty\nand double-dealing.\" Wang Hsi in a different interpretation\nthinks more along the lines of \"intuitive perception\" and\n\"practical intelligence.\" Tu Mu strangely refers these\nattributes to the spies themselves: \"Before using spies we must\nassure ourselves as to their integrity of character and the\nextent of their experience and skill.\" But he continues: \"A\nbrazen face and a crafty disposition are more dangerous than\nmountains or rivers", "\none grudges the outlay of a hundred ounces of silver in honors\nand emoluments,\n\n [\"For spies\" is of course the meaning, though it would spoil\nthe effect of this curiously elaborate exordium if spies were\nactually mentioned at this point.]\n\nis the height of inhumanity.\n\n [Sun Tzu's agreement is certainly ingenious. He begins by\nadverting to the frightful misery and vast expenditure of blood\nand treasure which war always brings in its train. Now, unless\n" ], [ "are baleful instruments, strife is\nantagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the negation of\ncivil order!\" The unpalatable fact remains, however, that even\nImperial wishes must be subordinated to military necessity.]\n\n 4. The general who thoroughly understands the advantages\nthat accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his\ntroops.\n 5. The general who does not understand these, may be well\nacquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not\nbe able to turn his knowledge to practical", "life of a human being. Just as the duelist who finds his\nadversary's point menacing him with certain death, and his own\nguard astray, is compelled to conform to his adversary's\nmovements, and to content himself with warding off his thrusts,\nso the commander whose communications are suddenly threatened\nfinds himself in a false position, and he will be fortunate if he\nhas not to change all his plans, to split up his force into more\nor less isolated detachments, and to fight with inferior numbers\non ground which he", "\n\n [Wei Liao Tzu (ch. 4) says: \"If the commander gives his\norders with decision, the soldiers will not wait to hear them\ntwice; if his moves are made without vacillation, the soldiers\nwill not be in two minds about doing their duty.\" General Baden-\nPowell says, italicizing the words: \"The secret of getting\nsuccessful work out of your trained men lies in one nutshell--in\nthe clearness of the instructions they receive.\" [3] Cf. also\n", "ton in order to learn what\nhis plans and calculations were for the morrow, because, as he\nexplained, he might suddenly find himself Commander-in-chief and\nwould be unable to frame new plans in a critical moment. The\nDuke listened quietly and then said: \"Who will attack the first\ntomorrow -- I or Bonaparte?\" \"Bonaparte,\" replied Lord Uxbridge.\n\"Well,\" continued the Duke, \"Bonaparte has not given me any idea\nof his projects; and as my plans will depend upon his, how can\n", "and to make calculations based on the data thus\nobtained; we are thus led to a general weighing-up, or comparison\nof the enemy's chances with our own; if the latter turn the\nscale, then victory ensues. The chief difficulty lies in third\nterm, which in the Chinese some commentators take as a\ncalculation of NUMBERS, thereby making it nearly synonymous with\nthe second term. Perhaps the second term should be thought of as\na consideration of the enemy's general position or condition,\nwhile the third term is the estimate", "date. If the general allows the various detachments to proceed\nat haphazard, without precise instructions as to the time and\nplace of meeting, the enemy will be able to annihilate the army\nin detail. Chang Yu's note may be worth quoting here: \"If we do\nnot know the place where our opponents mean to concentrate or the\nday on which they will join battle, our unity will be forfeited\nthrough our preparations for defense, and the positions we hold\nwill be insecure. Suddenly happening upon a powerful foe, ", "first lay\nplans which will ensure victory, and then lead your army to\nbattle; if you will not begin with stratagem but rely on brute\nstrength alone, victory will no longer be assured.\"]\n\n 16. The consummate leader cultivates the moral law, and\nstrictly adheres to method and discipline; thus it is in his\npower to control success.\n 17. In respect of military method, we have, firstly,\nMeasurement; secondly, Estimation of quantity; thirdly,\n", "details of a clever stratagem,\nwhereby, as he foresaw, he was able to capture the city and\ninflict a crushing defeat on his adversary.\"]\n\n 9. Neither is it the acme of excellence if you fight and\nconquer and the whole Empire says, \"Well done!\"\n\n [True excellence being, as Tu Mu says: \"To plan secretly,\nto move surreptitiously, to foil the enemy's intentions and balk\nhis schemes, so that at last the day may be won without shedding\n", "him. Thus the gain is mutual\" He quotes a pregnant sentence\nfrom Wei Liao Tzu, ch. 4: \"The art of giving orders is not to\ntry to rectify minor blunders and not to be swayed by petty\ndoubts.\" Vacillation and fussiness are the surest means of\nsapping the confidence of an army.]\n\n\n[1] \"Aids to Scouting,\" p. 26.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nX. TERRAIN\n\n\n [Only", "\nensure secrecy; upright and just, and thus maintain order.\n 36. He must be able to mystify his officers and men by\nfalse reports and appearances,\n\n [Literally, \"to deceive their eyes and ears.\"]\n\nand thus keep them in total ignorance.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung gives us one of his excellent apophthegms: \"The\ntroops must not be allowed to share your schemes in the\nbeginning; they may only rejoice with you over their happy\noutcome.\" \"To myst", "ruler's commands must\nbe obeyed.\" But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a\ngeneral to use these advantages. For instance, \"a certain road\nmay be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds\nin natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it,\nhe will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to\nattack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to\nfight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,\" and so\non.]\n\n", "words of command having\n been thus explained, he set up the halberds and battle-axes\n in order to begin the drill. Then, to the sound of drums, he\n gave the order \"Right turn.\" But the girls only burst out\n laughing. Sun Tzu said: \"If words of command are not clear\n and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, then\n the general is to blame.\"\n So he started drilling them again, and this time gave\n the order \"Left turn,\" whereupon the girls once more burst", "said: Whoever is first in the field and awaits\nthe coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is\nsecond in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive\nexhausted.\n 2. Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the\nenemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him.\n\n [One mark of a great soldier is that he fight on his own\nterms or fights not at all. [1] ]\n\n 3. By holding out advantages to him, he can", "down the Chao standards and set up the red banners\nof Han in their stead.\" Turning then to his other officers, he\nremarked: \"Our adversary holds a strong position, and is not\nlikely to come out and attack us until he sees the standard and\ndrums of the commander-in-chief, for fear I should turn back and\nescape through the mountains.\" So saying, he first of all sent\nout a division consisting of 10,000 men, and ordered them to form\nin line of battle with their backs to the River Ti.", "that we shall be\nmany to the enemy's few.\n 15. And if we are able thus to attack an inferior force\nwith a superior one, our opponents will be in dire straits.\n 16. The spot where we intend to fight must not be made\nknown; for then the enemy will have to prepare against a possible\nattack at several different points;\n\n [Sheridan once explained the reason of General Grant's\nvictories by saying that \"while his opponents were kept fully\nemployed wondering what he was going to do, HE was thinking", "out of the text. Of course, as\nhas already been pointed out, the two are so inextricably\ninterwoven in all military operations, that they cannot really be\nconsidered apart. Here we simply have an expression, in\nfigurative language, of the almost infinite resource of a great\nleader.]\n\n 7. There are not more than five musical notes, yet the\ncombinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can\never be heard.\n 8. There are not more than five primary colors (blue", "importance is attached to the selection of positions... and to\nthe immense advantages that are to be derived, whether you are\ndefending or attacking, from the proper utilization of natural\nfeatures.\" [2] ]\n\n 34. Thus the skillful general conducts his army just as\nthough he were leading a single man, willy-nilly, by the hand.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"The simile has reference to the ease with\nwhich he does it.\"]\n\n 35. It is the business of a general to be quiet and thus", "ability to gain an advantage over\nthe enemy. If in my counsels these two considerations are\nproperly blended, I shall succeed in liberating myself.... For\ninstance; if I am surrounded by the enemy and only think of\neffecting an escape, the nervelessness of my policy will incite\nmy adversary to pursue and crush me; it would be far better to\nencourage my men to deliver a bold counter-attack, and use the\nadvantage thus gained to free myself from the enemy's toils.\"\nSee the story of Ts`ao", ". 5.]\n\n (2) Which of the two generals has most ability?\n (3) With whom lie the advantages derived from Heaven and\nEarth?\n\n [See ss. 7,8]\n\n (4) On which side is discipline most rigorously enforced?\n\n [Tu Mu alludes to the remarkable story of Ts`ao Ts`ao (A.D.\n155-220), who was such a strict disciplinarian that once, in\naccordance with his own severe", "the general receives his commands\nfrom the sovereign.\n 2. Having collected an army and concentrated his forces, he\nmust blend and harmonize the different elements thereof before\npitching his camp.\n\n [\"Chang Yu says: \"the establishment of harmony and\nconfidence between the higher and lower ranks before venturing\ninto the field;\" and he quotes a saying of Wu Tzu (chap. 1 ad\ninit.): \"Without harmony in the State, no military expedition\ncan be undertaken; without harmony in the army, no battle array\ncan be" ], [ "you are kept informed of the enemy's condition, and are ready to\nstrike at the right moment, a war may drag on for years. The\nonly way to get this information is to employ spies, and it is\nimpossible to obtain trustworthy spies unless they are properly\npaid for their services. But it is surely false economy to\ngrudge a comparatively trifling amount for this purpose, when\nevery day that the war lasts eats up an incalculably greater sum.\nThis grievous burden falls on the shoulders of the poor, and", "spent on\nchariots and armor, will reach the total of a thousand ounces of\nsilver per day. Such is the cost of raising an army of 100,000\nmen.\n 2. When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long\nin coming, then men's weapons will grow dull and their ardor will\nbe damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your\nstrength.\n 3. Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of\nthe State will not be", "Government, but\ndoes no harm to individuals. The classical instance is Wu Wang,\nwho after having put an end to the Yin dynasty was acclaimed\n\"Father and mother of the people.\"]\n\n 7. With his forces intact he will dispute the mastery of\nthe Empire, and thus, without losing a man, his triumph will be\ncomplete.\n\n [Owing to the double meanings in the Chinese text, the\nlatter part of the sentence is susceptible of quite a different\nmeaning: \"And thus, the weapon not being blunted", "\none grudges the outlay of a hundred ounces of silver in honors\nand emoluments,\n\n [\"For spies\" is of course the meaning, though it would spoil\nthe effect of this curiously elaborate exordium if spies were\nactually mentioned at this point.]\n\nis the height of inhumanity.\n\n [Sun Tzu's agreement is certainly ingenious. He begins by\nadverting to the frightful misery and vast expenditure of blood\nand treasure which war always brings in its train. Now, unless\n", "ange country. But it is quite a moot question whether his\ntactics would have proved successful in the long run. Their\nreversal it is true, led to Cannae; but this only establishes a\nnegative presumption in their favor.]\n\n 6. There is no instance of a country having benefited from\nprolonged warfare.\n 7. It is only one who is thoroughly acquainted with the\nevils of war that can thoroughly understand the profitable way of\ncarrying it on.\n\n [That is, with rapidity. ", "to\nbe extracted from our text. Ho Shih has a characteristic tag:\n\"The PEOPLE being regarded as the essential part of the State,\nand FOOD as the people's heaven, is it not right that those in\nauthority should value and be careful of both?\"]\n\nwhile government expenses for broken chariots, worn-out horses,\nbreast-plates and helmets, bows and arrows, spears and shields,\nprotective mantles, draught-oxen and heavy wagons, will amount to\nfour-", "Only one who knows the disastrous\neffects of a long war can realize the supreme importance of\nrapidity in bringing it to a close. Only two commentators seem\nto favor this interpretation, but it fits well into the logic of\nthe context, whereas the rendering, \"He who does not know the\nevils of war cannot appreciate its benefits,\" is distinctly\npointless.]\n\n 8. The skillful soldier does not raise a second levy,\nneither are his supply-wagons loaded more than twice.\n\n [Once war is declared,", "in order to make\nit clear to everybody that you have no hankering after home.\"]\n\n 4. Ground the possession of which imports great advantage\nto either side, is contentious ground.\n\n [Tu Mu defines the ground as ground \"to be contended for.\"\nTs`ao Kung says: \"ground on which the few and the weak can\ndefeat the many and the strong,\" such as \"the neck of a pass,\"\ninstanced by Li Ch`uan. Thus, Thermopylae was of this\nclassification", "to the importance of marches, countermarches and\nmaneuvers. He said: \"It is a great mistake to waste men in\ntaking a town when the same expenditure of soldiers will gain a\nprovince.\" [1] ]\n\npositions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign\nwhich must not be obeyed.\n\n [This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence\nfor authority, and Wei Liao Tzu (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to\nexclaim: \"Weapons ", "\nbut cannot make certain of defeating the enemy.\n 4. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without\nbeing able to DO it.\n 5. Security against defeat implies defensive tactics;\nability to defeat the enemy means taking the offensive.\n\n [I retain the sense found in a similar passage in ss. 1-3,\nin spite of the fact that the commentators are all against me.\nThe meaning they give, \"He who cannot conquer takes the\ndefensive,\" is plausible enough.]\n\n 6.", " who have to lead an army and devise stratagems, must learn\n the art of war. But if one can command the services of a\n good general like Sun Tzu, who was employed by Wu Tzu-hsu,\n there is no need to learn it oneself. Hence the remark added\n by Confucius: \"If I fight, I conquer.\"\n The men of the present day, however, willfully interpret\n these words of Confucius in their narrowest sense, as though\n he meant that books on the art of", "from the defeat, or, at best, the prolongation of the\nwar, which will be the consequence. A mistaken feeling of pity\nwill often induce a general to relieve a beleaguered city, or to\nreinforce a hard-pressed detachment, contrary to his military\ninstincts. It is now generally admitted that our repeated\nefforts to relieve Ladysmith in the South African War were so\nmany strategical blunders which defeated their own purpose. And\nin the end, relief came through the very man who started out with\nthe distinct", "function to give broad instructions, but to decide on battle it\nis the function of the general.\" It is needless to dilate on the\nmilitary disasters which have been caused by undue interference\nwith operations in the field on the part of the home government.\nNapoleon undoubtedly owed much of his extraordinary success to\nthe fact that he was not hampered by central authority.]\n\n 18. Hence the saying: If you know the enemy and know\nyourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If\nyou know yourself but not", "opponents, and their allies are\nprevented from joining against him.\n\n [Mei Tao-ch`en constructs one of the chains of reasoning\nthat are so much affected by the Chinese: \"In attacking a\npowerful state, if you can divide her forces, you will have a\nsuperiority in strength; if you have a superiority in strength,\nyou will overawe the enemy; if you overawe the enemy, the\nneighboring states will be frightened; and if the neighboring\nstates are frightened, the enemy's allies will be prevented", "downwards, we must not pitch\nour camp on the lower reaches of a river, for fear the enemy\nshould open the sluices and sweep us away in a flood. Chu-ko Wu-\nhou has remarked that 'in river warfare we must not advance\nagainst the stream,' which is as much as to say that our fleet\nmust not be anchored below that of the enemy, for then they would\nbe able to take advantage of the current and make short work of\nus.\" There is also the danger, noted by other commentators, that\nthe enemy may throw poison on", "men\nsent their contributions of corn to the army direct. But why\nshould it fall on them to maintain an army in this way, except\nbecause the State or Government is too poor to do so?]\n\n 11. On the other hand, the proximity of an army causes\nprices to go up; and high prices cause the people's substance to\nbe drained away.\n\n [Wang Hsi says high prices occur before the army has left\nits own territory. Ts`ao Kung understands it of an army that has\nalready crossed the front", "are slain, while the\ntown still remains untaken. Such are the disastrous effects of a\nsiege.\n\n [We are reminded of the terrible losses of the Japanese\nbefore Port Arthur, in the most recent siege which history has to\nrecord.]\n\n 6. Therefore the skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops\nwithout any fighting; he captures their cities without laying\nsiege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy\noperations in the field.\n\n [Chia Lin notes that he only overthrows the", "\n\n [Danger has a bracing effect.]\n\n 60. Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating\nourselves to the enemy's purpose.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung says: \"Feign stupidity\"--by an appearance of\nyielding and falling in with the enemy's wishes. Chang Yu's note\nmakes the meaning clear: \"If the enemy shows an inclination to\nadvance, lure him on to do so; if he is anxious to retreat, delay\non purpose that he may", "\nhence Sun Tzu concludes that to neglect the use of spies is\nnothing less than a crime against humanity.]\n\n 3. One who acts thus is no leader of men, no present help\nto his sovereign, no master of victory.\n\n [This idea, that the true object of war is peace, has its\nroot in the national temperament of the Chinese. Even so far\nback as 597 B.C., these memorable words were uttered by Prince\nChuang of the Ch`u State: \"The [Chinese]", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari" ], [ "ruler's commands must\nbe obeyed.\" But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a\ngeneral to use these advantages. For instance, \"a certain road\nmay be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds\nin natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it,\nhe will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to\nattack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to\nfight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,\" and so\non.]\n\n", "ton in order to learn what\nhis plans and calculations were for the morrow, because, as he\nexplained, he might suddenly find himself Commander-in-chief and\nwould be unable to frame new plans in a critical moment. The\nDuke listened quietly and then said: \"Who will attack the first\ntomorrow -- I or Bonaparte?\" \"Bonaparte,\" replied Lord Uxbridge.\n\"Well,\" continued the Duke, \"Bonaparte has not given me any idea\nof his projects; and as my plans will depend upon his, how can\n", "puts it: \"Gap indicates deficiency;\nif the general's ability is not perfect (i.e. if he is not\nthoroughly versed in his profession), his army will lack\nstrength.\"]\n\n 12. There are three ways in which a ruler can bring\nmisfortune upon his army:--\n 13. (1) By commanding the army to advance or to retreat,\nbeing ignorant of the fact that it cannot obey. This is called\nhobbling the army.\n\n [Li Ch`", "\n into fits of laughter. Sun Tzu: \"If words of command are\n not clear and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly\n understood, the general is to blame. But if his orders ARE\n clear, and the soldiers nevertheless disobey, then it is the\n fault of their officers.\"\n So saying, he ordered the leaders of the two companies\n to be beheaded. Now the king of Wu was watching the scene\n from the top of a raised pavilion; and when he saw that his\n favorite concubines were about to", "are baleful instruments, strife is\nantagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the negation of\ncivil order!\" The unpalatable fact remains, however, that even\nImperial wishes must be subordinated to military necessity.]\n\n 4. The general who thoroughly understands the advantages\nthat accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his\ntroops.\n 5. The general who does not understand these, may be well\nacquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not\nbe able to turn his knowledge to practical", "\nThe general who loses a battle makes but few calculations\nbeforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few\ncalculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It\nis by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to\nwin or lose.\n\n\n[1] \"Words on Wellington,\" by Sir. W. Fraser.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nII. WAGING WAR\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung has the note: \"He who wishes to fight must", " no\ncalamity need be feared.\n\n [The superstitious, \"bound in to saucy doubts and fears,\"\ndegenerate into cowards and \"die many times before their deaths.\"\nTu Mu quotes Huang Shih-kung: \"'Spells and incantations should\nbe strictly forbidden, and no officer allowed to inquire by\ndivination into the fortunes of an army, for fear the soldiers'\nminds should be seriously perturbed.' The meaning is,\" he\ncontinues, \"that if all doubts and scruples", "life of a human being. Just as the duelist who finds his\nadversary's point menacing him with certain death, and his own\nguard astray, is compelled to conform to his adversary's\nmovements, and to content himself with warding off his thrusts,\nso the commander whose communications are suddenly threatened\nfinds himself in a false position, and he will be fortunate if he\nhas not to change all his plans, to split up his force into more\nor less isolated detachments, and to fight with inferior numbers\non ground which he", "already been completely\nfortified by wall and ditch, when suddenly he gave orders that\nthe army should shift its quarters to a hill near by. This was\nhighly displeasing to his officers, who protested loudly against\nthe extra fatigue which it would entail on the men. P`ei Hsing-\nchien, however, paid no heed to their remonstrances and had the\ncamp moved as quickly as possible. The same night, a terrific\nstorm came on, which flooded their former place of encampment to\nthe depth of over", "Wu Tzu ch. 3: \"the most fatal defect in a military leader is\ndifference; the worst calamities that befall an army arise from\nhesitation.\"]\n\nwhen there are no fixes duties assigned to officers and men,\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"Neither officers nor men have any regular\nroutine.\"]\n\nand the ranks are formed in a slovenly haphazard manner, the\nresult is utter DISORGANIZATION.\n 19. When a general, unable to estimate the enemy'", "an officer\nventured to remonstrate, saying: \"This man was a good soldier,\nand ought not to have been beheaded.\" Wu Ch`i replied: \"I fully\nbelieve he was a good soldier, but I had him beheaded because he\nacted without orders.\"]\n\nThis is the art of handling large masses of men.\n 26. In night-fighting, then, make much use of signal-fires\nand drums, and in fighting by day, of flags and banners, as a\nmeans of influencing", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "\n (7) In which army is there the greater constancy both in\nreward and punishment?\n\n [On which side is there the most absolute certainty that\nmerit will be properly rewarded and misdeeds summarily punished?]\n\n 14. By means of these seven considerations I can forecast\nvictory or defeat.\n 15. The general that hearkens to my counsel and acts upon\nit, will conquer: --let such a one be retained in command! The\ngeneral that hearkens not to my counsel", ", and his\nthoughts, a commander less thorough would have pronounced\nuseless\"--etc. etc. [3] In the year 88 A.D., as we read in ch.\n47 of the HOU HAN SHU, \"Pan Ch`ao took the field with 25,000 men\nfrom Khotan and other Central Asian states with the object of\ncrushing Yarkand. The King of Kutcha replied by dispatching his\nchief commander to succor the place with an army drawn from the\nkingdom", "eling of resentment, before the commander-in-chief can tell\nwhether or no he is in a position to fight, the result is RUIN.\n\n [Wang Hsi`s note is: \"This means, the general is angry\nwithout cause, and at the same time does not appreciate the\nability of his subordinate officers; thus he arouses fierce\nresentment and brings an avalanche of ruin upon his head.\"]\n\n 18. When the general is weak and without authority; when\nhis orders are not clear and distinct;", "like temper; the profession of arms\nrequires a combination of hardness and tenderness.\"]\n\nThis is a certain road to victory.\n\n 44. If in training soldiers commands are habitually\nenforced, the army will be well-disciplined; if not, its\ndiscipline will be bad.\n 45. If a general shows confidence in his men but always\ninsists on his orders being obeyed,\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"A general ought in time of peace to show\nkindly confidence in his men and", "to the importance of marches, countermarches and\nmaneuvers. He said: \"It is a great mistake to waste men in\ntaking a town when the same expenditure of soldiers will gain a\nprovince.\" [1] ]\n\npositions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign\nwhich must not be obeyed.\n\n [This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence\nfor authority, and Wei Liao Tzu (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to\nexclaim: \"Weapons ", ", or\nwhen in close touch with the enemy, the general should not be in\nthe thick of his own troops, but a little distance apart.\nOtherwise, he will be liable to misjudge the position as a whole,\nand give wrong orders.]\n\n 14. (2) By attempting to govern an army in the same way as\nhe administers a kingdom, being ignorant of the conditions which\nobtain in an army. This causes restlessness in the soldier's\nminds.\n\n [Ts`ao Kung's note is,", "be executed, he was greatly\n alarmed and hurriedly sent down the following message: \"We\n are now quite satisfied as to our general's ability to handle\n troops. If We are bereft of these two concubines, our meat\n and drink will lose their savor. It is our wish that they\n shall not be beheaded.\"\n Sun Tzu replied: \"Having once received His Majesty's\n commission to be the general of his forces, there are certain\n commands of His Majesty which, acting in that capacity, I", "a practical soldier, will have none of the\n\"bookish theoric.\" He cautions us here not to pin our faith to\nabstract principles; \"for,\" as Chang Yu puts it, \"while the main\nlaws of strategy can be stated clearly enough for the benefit of\nall and sundry, you must be guided by the actions of the enemy in\nattempting to secure a favorable position in actual warfare.\" On\nthe eve of the battle of Waterloo, Lord Uxbridge, commanding the\ncavalry, went to the Duke of Welling" ], [ "too much from individuals.\n\n [Tu Mu says: \"He first of all considers the power of his\narmy in the bulk; afterwards he takes individual talent into\naccount, and uses each men according to his capabilities. He\ndoes not demand perfection from the untalented.\"]\n\nHence his ability to pick out the right men and utilize combined\nenergy.\n 22. When he utilizes combined energy, his fighting men\nbecome as it were like unto rolling logs or stones. For it is\nthe nature of a log or stone to remain motion", ". through his neglect of this simple\nprecaution. \"At the head of a large army he was besieging\nCh`ang-she, which was held by Huang-fu Sung. The garrison was\nvery small, and a general feeling of nervousness pervaded the\nranks; so Huang-fu Sung called his officers together and said:\n\"In war, there are various indirect methods of attack, and\nnumbers do not count for everything. [The commentator here\nquotes Sun Tzu, V. SS.", "the\nfront and rear of an army each swiftly responsive to attack on\nthe other, just as though they were part of a single living\nbody?\"]\n\nI should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yueh are\nenemies;\n\n [Cf. VI. ss. 21.]\n\nyet if they are crossing a river in the same boat and are caught\nby a storm, they will come to each other's assistance just as the\nleft hand helps the right.\n\n [The meaning is: If", "s\nstrength, allows an inferior force to engage a larger one, or\nhurls a weak detachment against a powerful one, and neglects to\nplace picked soldiers in the front rank, the result must be ROUT.\n\n [Chang Yu paraphrases the latter part of the sentence and\ncontinues: \"Whenever there is fighting to be done, the keenest\nspirits should be appointed to serve in the front ranks, both in\norder to strengthen the resolution of our own men and to\ndemoralize the enemy.\" Cf. the primi ord", ", but Chang Yu\n(after Mei Yao-ch`en) rightly explains it thus: \"If the enemy's\ndispositions are visible, we can make for him in one body;\nwhereas, our own dispositions being kept secret, the enemy will\nbe obliged to divide his forces in order to guard against attack\nfrom every quarter.\"]\n\n 14. We can form a single united body, while the enemy must\nsplit up into fractions. Hence there will be a whole pitted\nagainst separate parts of a whole, which means", "counterbalanced by\nsuperior energy and discipline.]\n\nif quite unequal in every way, we can flee from him.\n 10. Hence, though an obstinate fight may be made by a small\nforce, in the end it must be captured by the larger force.\n 11. Now the general is the bulwark of the State; if the\nbulwark is complete at all points; the State will be strong; if\nthe bulwark is defective, the State will be weak.\n\n [As Li Ch`uan tersely", "of his numerical strength.\nOn the other hand, Tu Mu says: \"The question of relative\nstrength having been settled, we can bring the varied resources\nof cunning into play.\" Ho Shih seconds this interpretation, but\nweakens it. However, it points to the third term as being a\ncalculation of numbers.]\n\n 19. A victorious army opposed to a routed one, is as a\npound's weight placed in the scale against a single grain.\n\n [Literally, \"a victorious army is like", "ability to gain an advantage over\nthe enemy. If in my counsels these two considerations are\nproperly blended, I shall succeed in liberating myself.... For\ninstance; if I am surrounded by the enemy and only think of\neffecting an escape, the nervelessness of my policy will incite\nmy adversary to pursue and crush me; it would be far better to\nencourage my men to deliver a bold counter-attack, and use the\nadvantage thus gained to free myself from the enemy's toils.\"\nSee the story of Ts`ao", "nothing\n in the matter of victory. I say then that victory can be\n achieved.\n\nThe other is in XI. ss. 30: --\n\n Asked if an army can be made to imitate the SHUAI-JAN, I\n should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yueh\n are enemies; yet if they are crossing a river in the same\n boat and are caught by a storm, they will come to each\n other's assistance just as the left hand helps the right.\n\n ", "prevent one's army from running\naway recall the Athenian hero Sophanes, who carried the anchor\nwith him at the battle of Plataea, by means of which he fastened\nhimself firmly to one spot. [See Herodotus, IX. 74.] It is not\nenough, says Sun Tzu, to render flight impossible by such\nmechanical means. You will not succeed unless your men have\ntenacity and unity of purpose, and, above all, a spirit of\nsympathetic cooperation. This is the lesson which can be learned", "'Many years ago, Lord Wu performed a similar service for my\nhusband, who never left him afterwards, and finally met his death\nat the hands of the enemy. And now that he has done the same for\nmy son, he too will fall fighting I know not where.'\" Li Ch`uan\nmentions the Viscount of Ch`u, who invaded the small state of\nHsiao during the winter. The Duke of Shen said to him: \"Many of\nthe soldiers are suffering severely from the cold.\" So he made a\nround of the whole army,", "the action\nhas begun. Li Ch`uan alludes to the story of Han Hsin who, when\nabout to attack the vastly superior army of Chao, which was\nstrongly entrenched in the city of Ch`eng-an, said to his\nofficers: \"Gentlemen, we are going to annihilate the enemy, and\nshall meet again at dinner.\" The officers hardly took his words\nseriously, and gave a very dubious assent. But Han Hsin had\nalready worked out in his mind the", "because the possession of it, even for a few days\nonly, meant holding the entire invading army in check and thus\ngaining invaluable time. Cf. Wu Tzu, ch. V. ad init.: \"For\nthose who have to fight in the ratio of one to ten, there is\nnothing better than a narrow pass.\" When Lu Kuang was returning\nfrom his triumphant expedition to Turkestan in 385 A.D., and had\ngot as far as I-ho, laden with spoils, Liang Hsi,", "regulations against injury to\nstanding crops, he condemned himself to death for having allowed\nhis horse to shy into a field of corn! However, in lieu of\nlosing his head, he was persuaded to satisfy his sense of justice\nby cutting off his hair. Ts`ao Ts`ao's own comment on the\npresent passage is characteristically curt: \"when you lay down a\nlaw, see that it is not disobeyed; if it is disobeyed the\noffender must be put to death.\"]\n\n (5) Which army is stronger?\n", "with this, and with overweening\nconfidence in his own strength, simply tries to intimidate the\nenemy, he will surely be defeated.\" Chang Yu puts his view thus:\n\"If we recklessly attack a large state, our own people will be\ndiscontented and hang back. But if (as will then be the case)\nour display of military force is inferior by half to that of the\nenemy, the other chieftains will take fright and refuse to join\nus.\"]\n\n 55. Hence he does not strive to ally himself", "\nfrom the SHUAI-JAN.]\n\n 32. The principle on which to manage an army is to set up\none standard of courage which all must reach.\n\n [Literally, \"level the courage [of all] as though [it were\nthat of] one.\" If the ideal army is to form a single organic\nwhole, then it follows that the resolution and spirit of its\ncomponent parts must be of the same quality, or at any rate must\nnot fall below a certain standard. Wellington's seemingly\nungrateful", "iron. He must be\nactive, robust, endowed with physical strength and courage;\nthoroughly accustomed to all sorts of dirty work, able to endure\nhunger and cold, and to put up with shame and ignominy.\" Ho Shih\ntells the following story of Ta`hsi Wu of the Sui dynasty: \"When\nhe was governor of Eastern Ch`in, Shen-wu of Ch`i made a hostile\nmovement upon Sha-yuan. The Emperor T`ai Tsu [? Kao Tsu]", "less on level\nground, and to move when on a slope; if four-cornered, to come to\na standstill, but if round-shaped, to go rolling down.\n\n [Ts`au Kung calls this \"the use of natural or inherent\npower.\"]\n\n 23. Thus the energy developed by good fighting men is as\nthe momentum of a round stone rolled down a mountain thousands\nof feet in height. So much on the subject of energy.\n\n [The chief lesson of this chapter, in Tu Mu's opinion, is", "narrow that a single man defending it can check the onset of ten\nthousand; all means of offense in the hands of the enemy, all\npoints of vantage already forfeited by ourselves:--in this\nterrible plight, even though we had the most valiant soldiers and\nthe keenest of weapons, how could they be employed with the\nslightest effect?\" Students of Greek history may be reminded of\nthe awful close to the Sicilian expedition, and the agony of the\nAthenians under Nicias and Demonsthenes. [", "description of his army at Waterloo as \"the worst he\nhad ever commanded\" meant no more than that it was deficient in\nthis important particular--unity of spirit and courage. Had he\nnot foreseen the Belgian defections and carefully kept those\ntroops in the background, he would almost certainly have lost the\nday.]\n\n 33. How to make the best of both strong and weak--that is a\nquestion involving the proper use of ground.\n\n [Mei Yao-ch`en's paraphrase is: \"The way to" ], [ "\none grudges the outlay of a hundred ounces of silver in honors\nand emoluments,\n\n [\"For spies\" is of course the meaning, though it would spoil\nthe effect of this curiously elaborate exordium if spies were\nactually mentioned at this point.]\n\nis the height of inhumanity.\n\n [Sun Tzu's agreement is certainly ingenious. He begins by\nadverting to the frightful misery and vast expenditure of blood\nand treasure which war always brings in its train. Now, unless\n", "you are kept informed of the enemy's condition, and are ready to\nstrike at the right moment, a war may drag on for years. The\nonly way to get this information is to employ spies, and it is\nimpossible to obtain trustworthy spies unless they are properly\npaid for their services. But it is surely false economy to\ngrudge a comparatively trifling amount for this purpose, when\nevery day that the war lasts eats up an incalculably greater sum.\nThis grievous burden falls on the shoulders of the poor, and", "time of war, one of the families had\nto serve in the army, while the other seven contributed to its\nsupport. Thus, by a levy of 100,000 men (reckoning one able-\nbodied soldier to each family) the husbandry of 700,000 families\nwould be affected.]\n\n 2. Hostile armies may face each other for years, striving\nfor the victory which is decided in a single day. This being so,\nto remain in ignorance of the enemy's condition simply because", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari", "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "u that although he had no practical\nexperience of war, he was extremely fond of discussing the\nsubject, and was moreover well read in the military history of\nthe CH`UN CH`IU and CHAN KUO eras. His notes, therefore, are\nwell worth attention. They are very copious, and replete with\nhistorical parallels. The gist of Sun Tzu's work is thus\nsummarized by him: \"Practice benevolence and justice, but on the\nother hand make full use of", " who have to lead an army and devise stratagems, must learn\n the art of war. But if one can command the services of a\n good general like Sun Tzu, who was employed by Wu Tzu-hsu,\n there is no need to learn it oneself. Hence the remark added\n by Confucius: \"If I fight, I conquer.\"\n The men of the present day, however, willfully interpret\n these words of Confucius in their narrowest sense, as though\n he meant that books on the art of", "Only one who knows the disastrous\neffects of a long war can realize the supreme importance of\nrapidity in bringing it to a close. Only two commentators seem\nto favor this interpretation, but it fits well into the logic of\nthe context, whereas the rendering, \"He who does not know the\nevils of war cannot appreciate its benefits,\" is distinctly\npointless.]\n\n 8. The skillful soldier does not raise a second levy,\nneither are his supply-wagons loaded more than twice.\n\n [Once war is declared,", "tenths of its total revenue.\n 15. Hence a wise general makes a point of foraging on the\nenemy. One cartload of the enemy's provisions is equivalent to\ntwenty of one's own, and likewise a single PICUL of his provender\nis equivalent to twenty from one's own store.\n\n [Because twenty cartloads will be consumed in the process of\ntransporting one cartload to the front. A PICUL is a unit of\nmeasure equal to 133.3 pounds (65.5 kilograms", "to the importance of marches, countermarches and\nmaneuvers. He said: \"It is a great mistake to waste men in\ntaking a town when the same expenditure of soldiers will gain a\nprovince.\" [1] ]\n\npositions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign\nwhich must not be obeyed.\n\n [This is a hard saying for the Chinese, with their reverence\nfor authority, and Wei Liao Tzu (quoted by Tu Mu) is moved to\nexclaim: \"Weapons ", "forage on the\nenemy. Thus the army will have food enough for its needs.\n\n [The Chinese word translated here as \"war material\"\nliterally means \"things to be used\", and is meant in the widest\nsense. It includes all the impedimenta of an army, apart from\nprovisions.]\n\n 10. Poverty of the State exchequer causes an army to be\nmaintained by contributions from a distance. Contributing to\nmaintain an army at a distance causes the people to be", "and others\n rebellious. [58]\n\n The next piece is taken from Tu Mu's preface to his\ncommentary on Sun Tzu: --\n\n War may be defined as punishment, which is one of the\n functions of government. It was the profession of Chung Yu\n and Jan Ch`iu, both disciples of Confucius. Nowadays, the\n holding of trials and hearing of litigation, the imprisonment\n of offenders and their execution by flogging in the market-\n place, are all done by", "men\nsent their contributions of corn to the army direct. But why\nshould it fall on them to maintain an army in this way, except\nbecause the State or Government is too poor to do so?]\n\n 11. On the other hand, the proximity of an army causes\nprices to go up; and high prices cause the people's substance to\nbe drained away.\n\n [Wang Hsi says high prices occur before the army has left\nits own territory. Ts`ao Kung understands it of an army that has\nalready crossed the front", "Government, but\ndoes no harm to individuals. The classical instance is Wu Wang,\nwho after having put an end to the Yin dynasty was acclaimed\n\"Father and mother of the people.\"]\n\n 7. With his forces intact he will dispute the mastery of\nthe Empire, and thus, without losing a man, his triumph will be\ncomplete.\n\n [Owing to the double meanings in the Chinese text, the\nlatter part of the sentence is susceptible of quite a different\nmeaning: \"And thus, the weapon not being blunted", "\nimpoverished.\n\n [The beginning of this sentence does not balance properly\nwith the next, though obviously intended to do so. The\narrangement, moreover, is so awkward that I cannot help\nsuspecting some corruption in the text. It never seems to occur\nto Chinese commentators that an emendation may be necessary for\nthe sense, and we get no help from them there. The Chinese words\nSun Tzu used to indicate the cause of the people's impoverishment\nclearly have reference to some system by which the husband", "punitive measures prescribed to the Minister of War.\n [44] Again, Sun Wu loved brevity of diction, but his meaning\n is always deep. Whether the subject be marching an army, or\n handling soldiers, or estimating the enemy, or controlling\n the forces of victory, it is always systematically treated;\n the sayings are bound together in strict logical sequence,\n though this has been obscured by commentators who have\n probably failed to grasp their meaning. In his own\n commentary, Mei S", "to\nbe extracted from our text. Ho Shih has a characteristic tag:\n\"The PEOPLE being regarded as the essential part of the State,\nand FOOD as the people's heaven, is it not right that those in\nauthority should value and be careful of both?\"]\n\nwhile government expenses for broken chariots, worn-out horses,\nbreast-plates and helmets, bows and arrows, spears and shields,\nprotective mantles, draught-oxen and heavy wagons, will amount to\nfour-", "Yen\n Wang on the other. [12] In military matters, the Sage's rule\n is normally to keep the peace, and to move his forces only\n when occasion requires. He will not use armed force unless\n driven to it by necessity.\n Many books have I read on the subject of war and\n fighting; but the work composed by Sun Wu is the profoundest\n of them all. [Sun Tzu was a native of the Ch`i state, his\n personal name was Wu. He wrote the ART OF WAR in", "ange country. But it is quite a moot question whether his\ntactics would have proved successful in the long run. Their\nreversal it is true, led to Cannae; but this only establishes a\nnegative presumption in their favor.]\n\n 6. There is no instance of a country having benefited from\nprolonged warfare.\n 7. It is only one who is thoroughly acquainted with the\nevils of war that can thoroughly understand the profitable way of\ncarrying it on.\n\n [That is, with rapidity. ", "are slain, while the\ntown still remains untaken. Such are the disastrous effects of a\nsiege.\n\n [We are reminded of the terrible losses of the Japanese\nbefore Port Arthur, in the most recent siege which history has to\nrecord.]\n\n 6. Therefore the skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops\nwithout any fighting; he captures their cities without laying\nsiege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy\noperations in the field.\n\n [Chia Lin notes that he only overthrows the" ], [ "Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.\n 18. Measurement owes its existence to Earth; Estimation of\nquantity to Measurement; Calculation to Estimation of quantity;\nBalancing of chances to Calculation; and Victory to Balancing of\nchances.\n\n [It is not easy to distinguish the four terms very clearly\nin the Chinese. The first seems to be surveying and measurement\nof the ground, which enable us to form an estimate of the enemy's\nstrength, ", "and to make calculations based on the data thus\nobtained; we are thus led to a general weighing-up, or comparison\nof the enemy's chances with our own; if the latter turn the\nscale, then victory ensues. The chief difficulty lies in third\nterm, which in the Chinese some commentators take as a\ncalculation of NUMBERS, thereby making it nearly synonymous with\nthe second term. Perhaps the second term should be thought of as\na consideration of the enemy's general position or condition,\nwhile the third term is the estimate", "a practical soldier, will have none of the\n\"bookish theoric.\" He cautions us here not to pin our faith to\nabstract principles; \"for,\" as Chang Yu puts it, \"while the main\nlaws of strategy can be stated clearly enough for the benefit of\nall and sundry, you must be guided by the actions of the enemy in\nattempting to secure a favorable position in actual warfare.\" On\nthe eve of the battle of Waterloo, Lord Uxbridge, commanding the\ncavalry, went to the Duke of Welling", "tent. See. ss. 26.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to\nthe State.\n 2. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to\nsafety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on\nno account be neglected.\n 3. The art of war, then, is governed by five constant\nfactors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when\nseeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field", "spent on\nchariots and armor, will reach the total of a thousand ounces of\nsilver per day. Such is the cost of raising an army of 100,000\nmen.\n 2. When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long\nin coming, then men's weapons will grow dull and their ardor will\nbe damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your\nstrength.\n 3. Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of\nthe State will not be", "are baleful instruments, strife is\nantagonistic to virtue, a military commander is the negation of\ncivil order!\" The unpalatable fact remains, however, that even\nImperial wishes must be subordinated to military necessity.]\n\n 4. The general who thoroughly understands the advantages\nthat accompany variation of tactics knows how to handle his\ntroops.\n 5. The general who does not understand these, may be well\nacquainted with the configuration of the country, yet he will not\nbe able to turn his knowledge to practical", "\nfirst count the cost,\" which prepares us for the discovery that\nthe subject of the chapter is not what we might expect from the\ntitle, but is primarily a consideration of ways and means.]\n\n 1. Sun Tzu said: In the operations of war, where there are\nin the field a thousand swift chariots, as many heavy chariots,\nand a hundred thousand mail-clad soldiers,\n\n [The \"swift chariots\" were lightly built and, according to\nChang Yu, used for the attack; the \"heavy chari", "function to give broad instructions, but to decide on battle it\nis the function of the general.\" It is needless to dilate on the\nmilitary disasters which have been caused by undue interference\nwith operations in the field on the part of the home government.\nNapoleon undoubtedly owed much of his extraordinary success to\nthe fact that he was not hampered by central authority.]\n\n 18. Hence the saying: If you know the enemy and know\nyourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If\nyou know yourself but not", "\n\nbut a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the\nforces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties,\ndangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.\n 22. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his\nknowledge into practice, will win his battles. He who knows them\nnot, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.\n 23. If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must\nfight, even though the ruler forbid it; if fighting will not", "time of war, one of the families had\nto serve in the army, while the other seven contributed to its\nsupport. Thus, by a levy of 100,000 men (reckoning one able-\nbodied soldier to each family) the husbandry of 700,000 families\nwould be affected.]\n\n 2. Hostile armies may face each other for years, striving\nfor the victory which is decided in a single day. This being so,\nto remain in ignorance of the enemy's condition simply because", ". 5.]\n\n (2) Which of the two generals has most ability?\n (3) With whom lie the advantages derived from Heaven and\nEarth?\n\n [See ss. 7,8]\n\n (4) On which side is discipline most rigorously enforced?\n\n [Tu Mu alludes to the remarkable story of Ts`ao Ts`ao (A.D.\n155-220), who was such a strict disciplinarian that once, in\naccordance with his own severe", "s\nstrength, allows an inferior force to engage a larger one, or\nhurls a weak detachment against a powerful one, and neglects to\nplace picked soldiers in the front rank, the result must be ROUT.\n\n [Chang Yu paraphrases the latter part of the sentence and\ncontinues: \"Whenever there is fighting to be done, the keenest\nspirits should be appointed to serve in the front ranks, both in\norder to strengthen the resolution of our own men and to\ndemoralize the enemy.\" Cf. the primi ord", "penditure.\n 11. These five heads should be familiar to every general:\nhe who knows them will be victorious; he who knows them not will\nfail.\n 12. Therefore, in your deliberations, when seeking to\ndetermine the military conditions, let them be made the basis of\na comparison, in this wise: --\n 13. (1) Which of the two sovereigns is imbued with the\nMoral law?\n\n [I.e., \"is in harmony with his subjects.\" Cf. ss", "500 men, the equivalent to a\ndetachment consists from any number between 100 and 500, and the\nequivalent of a company contains from 5 to 100 men. For the last\ntwo, however, Chang Yu gives the exact figures of 100 and 5\nrespectively.]\n\n 2. Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not\nsupreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the\nenemy's resistance without fighting.\n\n [Here again, no modern strategist", "\n (7) In which army is there the greater constancy both in\nreward and punishment?\n\n [On which side is there the most absolute certainty that\nmerit will be properly rewarded and misdeeds summarily punished?]\n\n 14. By means of these seven considerations I can forecast\nvictory or defeat.\n 15. The general that hearkens to my counsel and acts upon\nit, will conquer: --let such a one be retained in command! The\ngeneral that hearkens not to my counsel", "ficially how a battle is won;\nwhat they cannot see is the long series of plans and combinations\nwhich has preceded the battle.]\n\n 28. Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one\nvictory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite\nvariety of circumstances.\n\n [As Wang Hsi sagely remarks: \"There is but one root-\nprinciple underlying victory, but the tactics which lead up to it\nare infinite in number.\" With this compare Col. Henderson: \"The\nrules of strategy are few and", "the action\nhas begun. Li Ch`uan alludes to the story of Han Hsin who, when\nabout to attack the vastly superior army of Chao, which was\nstrongly entrenched in the city of Ch`eng-an, said to his\nofficers: \"Gentlemen, we are going to annihilate the enemy, and\nshall meet again at dinner.\" The officers hardly took his words\nseriously, and gave a very dubious assent. But Han Hsin had\nalready worked out in his mind the", ".]\n\nthe next in order is to attack the enemy's army in the field;\n\n [When he is already at full strength.]\n\nand the worst policy of all is to besiege walled cities.\n\n 4. The rule is, not to besiege walled cities if it can\npossibly be avoided.\n\n [Another sound piece of military theory. Had the Boers\nacted upon it in 1899, and refrained from dissipating their\nstrength before Kimberley, Mafeking, or even Ladys", "\none grudges the outlay of a hundred ounces of silver in honors\nand emoluments,\n\n [\"For spies\" is of course the meaning, though it would spoil\nthe effect of this curiously elaborate exordium if spies were\nactually mentioned at this point.]\n\nis the height of inhumanity.\n\n [Sun Tzu's agreement is certainly ingenious. He begins by\nadverting to the frightful misery and vast expenditure of blood\nand treasure which war always brings in its train. Now, unless\n", "\nThe general who loses a battle makes but few calculations\nbeforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few\ncalculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It\nis by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to\nwin or lose.\n\n\n[1] \"Words on Wellington,\" by Sir. W. Fraser.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nII. WAGING WAR\n\n\n [Ts`ao Kung has the note: \"He who wishes to fight must" ] ]

[ "The economy of warfare requires winning battles to be fought how?", "The source of strength in Strategic attack comes from what?", "Which element of Military engagement requires a Commander to defend its current position before advancing?", "Which element of engagement encourages commanders to take advantage of the enemy's mistakes?", "The elements discourage direct conflict, but which describes how to win those battles?", "Which element describes how to closely watch the intent of others as it moves through a territory?", "Which element describes the advantages and disadvantages of six field positions?", "Which element lays a plan for each of the stages of battle for the commanders?", "Which element encourages finding good sources of information and how to manage them?", "Detail Assessment and Planning explores the five fundamental factors and how many elements?", "What explains how to understand the economy of warfare?", "How many factors are needed to succeed in any war?", "What defines the source of strength as unity, not size?", "What explains the importance of defending existing positions?", "What explains the dangers of direct conflict?", "What section focuses on evaluating the intentions of others?", "What looks at the three general areas of resistance?", "What describes the nine common situations in a campaign?", "What focuses on the importance of developing good information sources?", "What does success require in a War theator?", "Specific weaponization of the environment and the general use of weapons are explained by what? ", "What is the focus of military intelligence espionage? ", "What advantage does a commander draw out of analyzing the content of a Detail Assement & Planning document? ", "What can limiting the costs of compettive conflicts lead to? ", "What could happen if a commander regularly ignored these military calculations? ", "According to this story, what defines the source of strength as unity rather tthan size? ", "How can we understand the economy of Warfare? ", "How do we exactly explore what determines the outcomes of military engagement?" ]

[ [ "Quickly", "by limiting the cost of competition and conflict" ], [ "Unity", "Strategic Attack" ], [ "Disposition of Army", "Disposition of the Army" ], [ "Weaknesses and Strengths", "Weakness and Strengths" ], [ "MIlitary maneuvers", "Variations and adaptability." ], [ "Movement and development of troops", "Movement and development of troops." ], [ "Terrain", "terrain" ], [ "The nine battlegrounds", "The Nine Battlegrounds" ], [ "Intelligence and Espionage", "Intelligence and Espionage" ], [ "Seven.", "Seven elements." ], [ "Waging War.", "waging war" ], [ "Five.", "Five" ], [ "Strategic Attack.", "Strategic Attack" ], [ "Disposition of the Army.", "Disposition of the Army. " ], [ "Military Maneuvers.", "military maneuvers" ], [ "Movement and Development of Troops.", "Movement and development of troops." ], [ "Terrain.", "Terrain" ], [ "The Nine Battlegrounds.", "the nine battlegrounds" ], [ "Intelligence and Espionage.", "Intelligence and espionage" ], [ "Rapidly winning decisive engagements.", "Attack, alliances, Army, strategy, and cities" ], [ "Attaking with fire. ", "Attacking with fire." ], [ "The strategic importance of developing good information sources. ", "the importance of developing valuable information sources and managing them" ], [ "A commander can calculate his chances of victory. ", "he can calculate his chances at victory" ], [ "Successful military campaigns. ", "Waging War" ], [ "The commander would be planning for defeat instead. ", "Failure." ], [ "Strategic Attacks. ", "Strategic attack." ], [ "By waging War. ", "Limit the cost of conflict and competition." ], [ "Details Assessment and Planning. ", "by thinking, assessing, and comparing these different points" ] ]

[ [ "Beyond them a smaller sign: \"THANK YOU FOR VISITING\n MASSENA NEW YORK, IT WORKS, for business, for family, for\n you\".\n\n\n2 EXT. BELOW THE BRIDGE - DAY 2\n\n The river stretches for miles in either direction,\n frozen, and still with trees on either side.\n\n\n3 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD, MASSENA NEW YORK - DAY 3\n\n RAY EDDY, ", "then backs away.\n Trooper Napoli is there.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Is there a Ray Eddy here?\n\n Ray comes to the door.\n\n RAY\n Yes.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Can I speak to you outside for a minute.\n\n RAY\n I haven't gotten the light fixed-\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n It's not about that. I just have a few\n questions.", "ROZEN RIVER - DAY 41\n\n Ray and Lila drive across the smooth surface of the\n river. Ray smokes with one hand and holds the gun with\n the other.\n\n\n LILA\n How many bedrooms?\n\n RAY\n Three. I got kids.\n\n LILA\n How old?\n\n RAY\n Five and Fifteen.\n\n LILA\n I got a boy. Almost one.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n ", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "From down the road the Acclaim comes roaring along,\n kicking up dust.\n\n Ray swerves in and jumps out and runs up to the men.\n\n RAY\n It's okay. I got it right here. (she\n waves a wad of fifties and twenties). Two\n fifty five, right?\n\n The men nod, relieved. Ray counts out the money.\n\n Ricky bursts out the door and runs towards Ray.\n\n RICKY\n Mommy!\n\n 4", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "wad of cash in the can and jumps down from\n the tree. She leaves it near the front door and hurries\n into the woods.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n57 INT. T.J. AND RICKY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 57\n\n Ray tucks Ricky into the bottom bunk. The wind whines in\n the loose siding. Ray stuffs a blanket around the window\n to block the draft.\n\n\n58 INT. RAY'S TRAIL", "If she leaves, they'll turn you in Lila.\n The troopers want somebody.\n\n RAY\n But, she's a Mohawk.\n\n BERNIE\n The Chiefs want her out, so there's\n nothing standing between her and the\n troopers.\n\n RAY\n Listen, my kids got no one but me.\n\n BERNIE\n If you leave she won't see her son again.\n\nRay and Bernie stare at each other.\n\n LIL", "trucks.\n\n T.J.\n Are they really coming?\n\n RAY\n Yeah.\n\n T.J.\n Where's dad?\n\nShe is silent.\n\n T.J. (CONT'D)\n (says it slow)\n Where's dad?\n\nShe looks at him.\n\n RAY\n I don't know how he found it, T.J.\n\n T.J.\n Found what?\n\nRay takes a drag off her cigarette.", "\nShe rolls down the window, digging for change under the\nseat of her car. She counts it out.\n\n RAY\n Just three...uh, no...two seventy one,\n two, three, four.\n\n MOHAWK TEENAGER\n Two seventy four.\n\nHe nods and goes to the pump. She finds a wadded up five\ndollar bill.\n\n RAY\n (yells out window)\n Make that seven seventy four.\n\nShe spots a sign for \"TRAILWAYS\" bus", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3" ], [ "ROZEN RIVER - DAY 41\n\n Ray and Lila drive across the smooth surface of the\n river. Ray smokes with one hand and holds the gun with\n the other.\n\n\n LILA\n How many bedrooms?\n\n RAY\n Three. I got kids.\n\n LILA\n How old?\n\n RAY\n Five and Fifteen.\n\n LILA\n I got a boy. Almost one.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n ", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "she's doing when she sees him and kneels\n down.\n\n RAY\n Hey, little sleepy head.\n\n RICKY\n Is it here yet? `Cause I'm ready.\n\n He drags a suitcase full of plastic dinosaurs around the\n corner.\n\n The RUMBLE OUTSIDE GROWS LOUDER. Ricky BOLTS out of the\n bedroom and down the hall to the trailer door.\n\n RAY\n Wait a sec-\n\n He burst", " Ray helps Ricky into his clothes and puts his backpack on\n his back.\n\n RICKY\n Where's daddy?\n\n Ray and T.J. look at each other.\n\n RAY\n He'll be back.\n\n T.J.\n Aren't we even gonna look for him?\n\n RAY\n No! I'm going to work and you're going to\n school.\n\n T.J.\n That's it?\n\n ", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "s:\n\n RAY\n Tap the bottom of his feet.\n\n LILA\n Why?\n\n RAY\n That's what they did to get Ricky\n breathing when he was born.\n\n Ray puts the baby on Lila's lap. She pulls away.\n\n LILA\n I don't want to touch it.\n\n RAY\n Well, I can't hold it and drive.\n\n 66.\n\n\n Ray cranks the he", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "trucks.\n\n T.J.\n Are they really coming?\n\n RAY\n Yeah.\n\n T.J.\n Where's dad?\n\nShe is silent.\n\n T.J. (CONT'D)\n (says it slow)\n Where's dad?\n\nShe looks at him.\n\n RAY\n I don't know how he found it, T.J.\n\n T.J.\n Found what?\n\nRay takes a drag off her cigarette.", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (to T.J.)\n You better hurry or you're going to miss\n the bus. Let's get your clothes on,\n Ricky.\n\n 8.\n\n\n T.J. just stares at her.\n\n T.J.\n I can get a job you know.\n\n RAY\n You're 15, T.J.\n\n T.J.\n They won't ask any questions.\n\n ", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "ation.\n\n RAY\n I told you, he could be in Atlantic City\n by now.\n\nShe helps Ricky get his backpack on and gives him a kiss.\n\n T.J.\n (shakes his head)\n The glove compartment. That's so stupid.\n\n RAY\n You're going to school.\n\n 10.\n\n\n He follows Ricky out the door to catch the school bus\n rolling up out front.\n\n Suddenly, Ray remembers:\n", "forced\n smile, his long, shaggy hair combed flat for the picture.\n\n Ray hurries down the hall to her bedroom and takes off\n her bathrobe -- she has several tatoos -- and slides into\n a pair or jeans and a t-shirt.\n\n 5.\n\n\n A sleepy-eyed, toe-headed boy, RICKY, 5, walks in,\n shirtless in pajama bottoms, eyes shining.\n\n RICKY\n Is it here?\n\n Ray stops what", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "' know girls.\n\n\n117 EXT./INT. ACCLAIM, QUEBEC HIGHWAY - SAME 117\n\n Ray and Lila drive down a Quebec highway. The road signs\n are in French.\n\n The skyline of Montreal is an orange glow in the far\n distance.\n\n RAY\n Have you ever been there?\n\n LILA\n A few times. Have you?\n\n RAY\n No, Troy didn't like", "From down the road the Acclaim comes roaring along,\n kicking up dust.\n\n Ray swerves in and jumps out and runs up to the men.\n\n RAY\n It's okay. I got it right here. (she\n waves a wad of fifties and twenties). Two\n fifty five, right?\n\n The men nod, relieved. Ray counts out the money.\n\n Ricky bursts out the door and runs towards Ray.\n\n RICKY\n Mommy!\n\n 4", "\nHer voice is DROWNED OUT by REVVING engines.\n\nRicky rushes to her.\n\n RICKY\n Wait, where are they going?\n\nShe takes his face in her hands.\n\n RAY\n Listen to me. We'll get them back.\n\n RICKY\n But why are they leaving?\n\n RAY\n Ricky, I'll get them back. I promise,\n honey.\n\n RICKY\n That's our house!\n\nHe" ], [ "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", " LILA\n We gotta get outta here, first.\n\n RAY\n Just COUNT IT and make sure it's all\n there!\n\nRay hands her the wad of money. Lila struggles to put on\nher glasses and counts out the money.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Is it there?\n\n 90.\n\n\n LILA\n It's all there.\n\n RAY\n Good.\n\n LILA\n ", " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "players come out and get in cars surrounding\n Ray.\n\n Mohawks employees, including Lila come out of the\n \"Employees Entrance\". She starts toward Horizon. She\n wears new glasses.\n\n Catching sight of Ray in the Acclaim, she abruptly turns\n and starts walking in the opposite direction.\n\n Ray pulls out and drives over following her in the\n Acclaim.\n\n LILA\n I quit smuggling.\n\n RAY\n (rolls down the window)", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "hands her a brown paper bag.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Count it.\n\n Ray opens the bag and counts out the cash, as before.\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\n 27.\n\n\n Lila takes the cash from Ray and pops the trunk release.\n The two Chinese men hurry out. The Dealer ushers them\n into a Garage.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n\n34 INT. ACCLA", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "ila pull into a used-car lot surrounded by a\n chain link fence. There is no sign of life. Ray stops.\n\n LILA\n Honk the horn.\n\n Ray honks.\n\n Suddenly, from under a gutted truck, A HUGE BLACK DOG,\n part wolf, SPRINGS onto the hood of the Acclaim.\n\n Ray is pinned against her seat at the sight of the dog.\n Lila GRABS the gun out of her hand and points it at Ray.\n\n ", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double." ], [ " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "\n between them.\n\n RAY\n Why would they want to run?\n\n LILA\n To get away from the snakeheads.\n\n 40.\n\n\n RAY\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n The snakeheads pay to get them here and\n then they gotta work off what they owe .\n\n RAY\n How much does it cost?\n\n LILA\n Forty, fifty thousand. Depends where\n they're coming from", "ILA\n Bruno.\n\n She points to Bruno. Lila and Ray approach him. He is on\n his cell phone speaking in French.\n\n He looks them over, then closes up his telephone.\n\n BRUNO\n (French accent)\n You looking for a job.\n\n LILA\n No, Jimmy called-\n\n BRUNO\n Oh yeah, Jimmy. Okay.\n\n He calls over the Bartender. She comes over. He points to\n Ray and Lila", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "river and pass it\n silently.\n\n LILA\n You gotta pick up some speed to get up\n the bank.\n\n 22.\n\n\n Ray speeds up. The Acclaim bounces up the steep bank.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's just on the other side of those\n trees.\n\n\n25 EXT./INT. ACCLAIM AT JIMMY'S GARAGE LOT- DAY 25\n\n Ray and L", "players come out and get in cars surrounding\n Ray.\n\n Mohawks employees, including Lila come out of the\n \"Employees Entrance\". She starts toward Horizon. She\n wears new glasses.\n\n Catching sight of Ray in the Acclaim, she abruptly turns\n and starts walking in the opposite direction.\n\n Ray pulls out and drives over following her in the\n Acclaim.\n\n LILA\n I quit smuggling.\n\n RAY\n (rolls down the window)", "\n Ray and Lila pull in to the motel but there is no sign of\n life.\n\n Ray gathers up the blankets. Lila sits motionless.\n\n RAY\n We gotta take it in.\n\n Lila sits absolutely still.\n\n 70.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What is it?\n\n LILA\n It's moving.\n\n RAY\n What? Are you sure?\n\n Lila slowly takes the baby from inside", "'ve heard about it but I didn't\n know she was involved.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n How did you happen to meet her?\n\n RAY\n Uh, I think there was a sign for a baby\n sitter at the Wolf Mart. That's where I\n get my gas.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n I just thought you should be aware of\n that. She's known to have smuggled\n illegal immigrants into the country.\n\n RAY\n " ], [ " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "\n Ray and Lila pull in to the motel but there is no sign of\n life.\n\n Ray gathers up the blankets. Lila sits motionless.\n\n RAY\n We gotta take it in.\n\n Lila sits absolutely still.\n\n 70.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What is it?\n\n LILA\n It's moving.\n\n RAY\n What? Are you sure?\n\n Lila slowly takes the baby from inside", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the", "river and pass it\n silently.\n\n LILA\n You gotta pick up some speed to get up\n the bank.\n\n 22.\n\n\n Ray speeds up. The Acclaim bounces up the steep bank.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's just on the other side of those\n trees.\n\n\n25 EXT./INT. ACCLAIM AT JIMMY'S GARAGE LOT- DAY 25\n\n Ray and L", "ILA\n Bruno.\n\n She points to Bruno. Lila and Ray approach him. He is on\n his cell phone speaking in French.\n\n He looks them over, then closes up his telephone.\n\n BRUNO\n (French accent)\n You looking for a job.\n\n LILA\n No, Jimmy called-\n\n BRUNO\n Oh yeah, Jimmy. Okay.\n\n He calls over the Bartender. She comes over. He points to\n Ray and Lila", "- NIGHT 85\n\n Ray and Lila creep along.\n\n LILA\n Look, there. Tracks.\n\n RAY\n (squints)\n Where?\n\n LILA\n Up there.\n\n Ray speeds up. Faint tire tracks appear in the distance.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Slow down, I don't want to run over it.\n Stop. I think it was here.\n\n Ray stops the car. Lila gets", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "woods. Ray reaches the\n stump.\n\n RAY\n (nervous)\n There's no road.\n\n LILA\n There's a path.\n\n Ray hesitates.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's not far.\n\n Ray turns and drives into deeper woods. The gun jiggles\n around in Ray's hand as they bounce along between the\n trees.\n\n Lila tries to ignore it.\n\n\n21 EXT", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "LILA (CONT'D)\n You better slow down there are ruts out\n here. You could get stuck in one.\n\n Ray speeds up and roars up the boat ramp off the ice\n skidding a little.\n\n\n29 EXT. ACCLAIM IN RESERVATION WOODS - DAY 29\n\n Ray and Lila bounce through the woods with Lila holding\n the gun, this time.\n\n They come to a dirt road then to an intersection with\n State Route 37.", "they put their baby in a\n duffle bag.\n\n LILA\n I can't believe you left it out there.\n\n RAY\n If you'd let me search it I would never\n have taken it-\n\n LILA\n We gotta go back.\n\n RAY\n I know! I know that.\n\n 63.\n\n\n Ray speeds along.\n\n\n\n80 INT. ROUTE 37, THE RESERVATION LINE - N", "\n between them.\n\n RAY\n Why would they want to run?\n\n LILA\n To get away from the snakeheads.\n\n 40.\n\n\n RAY\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n The snakeheads pay to get them here and\n then they gotta work off what they owe .\n\n RAY\n How much does it cost?\n\n LILA\n Forty, fifty thousand. Depends where\n they're coming from" ], [ "lot of trouble.\n\n Lila looks at him, unfazed.\n\n BERNIE (CONT'D)\n The council voted to expel you.\n\n LILA\n Expel me?\n\n BERNIE\n For five years. You can appeal, but\n you'll never be able to change Rosalie's\n mind.\n\n 99.\n\n\n LILA\n They can't do that.\n\n BERNIE\n They", "Lila picks up the baby, and looks around.\n\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Where's his coat?\n\n EVELYN\n You can't have him.\n\n 103.\n\n\n She grabs Lila's arm, but Lila shakes her arm free and\n wraps Little Jake in her own jacket.\n\n LILA\n Say goodbye to your Dudah.\n\n Evelyn stands in front of the door, blocking Lila", "elyn Littlewolf, her mother -\n in-law and Little Jake sitting at a table with Grand\n Chief Rosalie.\n\n She stops dead in her tracks at the sight. They do not\n see her.\n\n Slowly, she walks up to the table.\n\n Little Jake notices her first.\n\n ANGLE: Through the window Ray catches sight of Lila\n standing at the table perfectly still.\n\n The other women glance up at her then turn away. No one\n speaks.\n\n Lila walks off with Little", "her bruised arms.\n\n Velma sees the bruises.\n\n VELMA (CONT'D)\n Somebody's been beatin' up on you.\n\n Lila and Ray see the girl's black and blue arms.\n\n 95.\n\n\n Velma hangs the girl's jacket on the big oven to dry and\n gives her an old blanket to keep warm.\n\n Then Velma turns to Lila.\n\n VELMA (CONT'D)\n You, too", " LILA (CONT'D)\n He lives with my mother-in-law. (after a\n moment) She stole him from me.\n\n RAY\n Stole him?\n\n LILA\n Yeah. Right out of the hospital.\n\n RAY\n Stole him?\n\n 37.\n\n\n LILA\n Tribal police don't get involved in stuff\n like that.\n\n\n Lila looks out across the river at dusk with no\n expression", "the tree Lila looks inside the window of the house\n where:\n\n A baby boy, \"LITTLE JAKE,\" about a year old, bangs his\n spoon on his high chair tray then throws it down.\n\n EVELYN LITTLEWOLF, 48, a tall thin Mohawk woman with long\n hair pulled back, picks it up and gives it back to him.\n\n He throws it again. She knows the game. She gives it\n back, but the third time she holds it just out of his\n reach", ". Lila\n stops and they stand for a moment looking at each other.\n There is anger and sadness. Evelyn moves aside.\n\n Lila walks out with the baby.\n\n\n146 EXT. HOUSE ON POINT - NIGHT 146\n\n Bernie stands by the car holding a CAR SEAT.\n\n BERNIE\n She's gonna kill me for taking this out\n of her car.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n147 INT. NEW", "A\n Let her go.\n\n BERNIE\n Lila, you're giving up on him and he's\n only one year old.\n\n 100.\n\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Just go.\n\n Ray goes to the door, but turns around...\n\n RAY\n At least you got family to take care of\n him, ya' know?\n\n\n140 EXT. RESERVATION WOODS - N", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "Lila.\n\n Thunder growls.\n\n JIMMY\n Thunder! SHUT UP!.\n\n The dog GROWLS ferociously at Ray.\n\n JIMMY (CONT'D)\n Get back under there!\n\n Thunder jumps off the hood and disappears back under the\n trunk.\n\n 23.\n\n\n Jimmy walks around to the passenger side of the car. Lila\n rolls down her window.\n\n LILA\n Hi, Jimmy", "\n 54.\n\n\n ROSALIE\n Do I have any messages?\n\n Lila hands her a stack. She takes them and walks away,\n then stops.\n\n ROSALIE (CONT'D)\n I can't read this.\n\n She holds the message out to Lila. Lila tries to read it,\n squinting.\n\n LILA\n I think it's a \"T.\".\n\n ROSALIE\n No, I can'", "\n\n 36.\n\n\n They stand staring at each other for a long moment, then\n Ray walks over and unties the rope around the bumpers of\n the Acclaim and the Horizon.\n\n LILA\n I don't usually work with whites.\n\n RAY\n Suit yourself.\n\n Ray gets in the driver's side of the Acclaim and starts\n it. After a moment, Lila gets in the passenger side.\n\n\n41 EXT. ACCLAIM ON F", "?\n\n Lila says nothing.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Look, I don't have time for that. I can't\n get deep about every little thing. I just\n have to keep on going. I only need one\n more run to have enough for my double.\n\n\n\n100 INT. ACCLAIM AT LILA'S CAMPER - NIGHT 100\n\n Ray and Lila pull up in front of Lila's camper and stop", "a hole in my bedroom floor. We\n gotta move.\n\n 81.\n\n\nLila keeps walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I just need one more run to get the\n double.\n\nLila keeps walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Look you can have the Acclaim. Okay?\n\nLila keeps walking.\n\n LILA\n I don't want it.\n\n RAY\n What is it then?!\n\nLila keeps", "wail.\n\n 71.\n\n\n Lila's eyes fill with tears. Ray chokes back her own.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (to Lila)\n Come on. Let's go.\n\n Lila follows Ray out, looking over her shoulder at the\n baby.\n\n\n99 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 99\n\n Lila and Ray drive away.\n\n LILA\n ", "A\n Not there! Not with them.\n\n She starts to get out. He notices the Horizon, buried\n under the snow, near the camper.\n\n BERNIE\n (suspicious)\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n I bought it.\n\n BERNIE\n From who?\n\n LILA\n Some white lady.\n\n He says nothing. Taps his thumbs on the steering wheel,\n suspicious. A long moment passes.\n\n", "IGHT 140\n\n Ray shuts the door behind her and starts toward the\n river. She turns and runs along the bank...a long\n way...then slows down. Breathing hard, she stops. Snow\n melts on her face. A long moment passes.\n\n The sound of the river ice pushing against the bank\n releases a long, deep moan all around her.\n\n\n141 INT. VILLAGE BAKERY, KITCHEN -NIGHT 141\n\n Lila and Bernie sit on", "looks in at Lila,\n she keeps her head down.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Step around to the back of the vehicle.\n\n He follows Ray to the back of the Acclaim.\n\n\n94 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37, BREAKDOWN LANE - NIGHT 94\n\n He points at the trunk. Ray stares at it, afraid to\n speak.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n See that.\n\n Ray stares at", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's" ], [ "door of the club.\n\n BRUNO (CONT'D)\n (annoyed by Ray)\n ...because you're not making a problem\n for me. And you're making a problem for\n them. Let me show you something.\n\nHe approaches the two girls.\n\nHe grabs one of the girls by the hair, kicks her in the\nback of the knees forcing her to the ground.\n\nLila looks at Ray. The girl tries to get on her feet, but\neach time she does he kicks her in the back of", "to travel. He liked\n to work in his shed, mostly.\n\n 85.\n\n\n Ray and Lila drive down a commercial strip of shopping\n centers, fast food joints and strip clubs, with French\n names.\n\n LILA\n Up there. That's it.\n\n RAY\n Can't miss that.\n\n118 EXT. LE CLUB SUPER SEXE - SAME 118\n\n Ray pulls in at a giant ne", "shoots at the pavement beside Bruno.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n Give it to her.\n\nThe Bartender disappears into the club. Ray waits with\nthe gun on Bruno.\n\n LILA\n (from inside the Acclaim)\n Let's get out of here. I'll give you the\n rest of the money.\n\n RAY\n No. But thanks.\n\n 89.\n\n\n LILA\n You're", "leans into the passenger side of the Acclaim and\npops the trunk. Bruno looks at Ray:\n\n 88.\n\n\n BRUNO\n You must be the brains of the operation.\n\nHe motions the girls into the trunk and shuts it after\nthem.\n\nLila get in the passenger side and Bruno starts for the\nback door of the club.\n\nRay pulls her gun out of her jacket and aims it at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Turn around!\n\nBruno stops and turns around.\n", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want the rest.\n\nHe opens his fur coat.\n\n BRUNO\n (cool)\n I don't have any more.\n\nIn the shiny coat lining only the handle of a long pistol\nis visible.\n\n RAY\n (to the Bartender)\n Go get it.\n\nBruno looks around and nods at the bartender. The\nbartender panics not knowing what to do and begins\nspeaking in French to Bruno.\n\nRay", "open the door.\n\n Ray hesitates. Lila jams the gun in her side.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Open the door.\n\n Ray opens the door.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Now get out.\n\n Ray doesn't move.\n\n RAY\n You can't have my car.\n\n LILA\n Get out.\n\n RAY\n You can't have my car.\n\n L", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", ".\n\n She walks over to them.\n\n BARTENDER\n (softly)\n Put your hands up.\n\n 86.\n\n\n Ray and Lila put up their hands. The Bartender pat frisks\n them for body wires. When she is finished:\n\n BRUNO\n Okay we go.\n\n He picks up his full-length fur coat.\n\n BRUNO (CONT'D)\n D'is way.\n\n They follow him", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", " Looks like somebody tried to blow your\n brains out.\n\n Ray winces in pain.\n\n VELMA (CONT'D)\n Get outta here, Jimmy. They gotta strip\n down. (to girls) Gimme those jackets.\n\n Velma motions to the Chinese girls to take off their\n coats. They stare at her shivering.\n\n She gently goes to one of the girls and helps her out of\n her jean jacket. Under it she wears a short sleeved shirt\n showing", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "-\n Rex on the floor of the backseat.\n\n She leans against the car for a moment.\n\n RAY\n Thank you. Oh God, thank you, thank you\n thank you...\n\n After a moment Ray looks up at the Bingo Palace and heads\n for the entrance.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You son of a bitch!\n\n\n12 INT. BINGO PALACE ENTRANCE - DAY 12\n\n A SHORT, CHUBBY MO", "gonna get us all killed.\n\nA moment later the Bartender comes back, shaking and\nholding cash.\n\n RAY\n Put it there.\n\nShe indicates the trunk.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n You aren't so smart as you look.\n\n\nRay grabs the money and still pointing at Bruno, backs\ninto the car.\n\nBruno reaches for his pistol and aims at them as the\nAcclaim squeals away.\n\nBruno FIRES shattering the driver's side window", "?\n\n RAY\n As soon as he can get here, I'll just run\n it down to you.\n\nT.J. could crawl out of his skin.\n\n VERSAILLES\n (ironic smile)\n This is the second time you've dragged me\n out here. If you don't come up with it by\n Christmas, you've lost your fifteen\n hundred dollar deposit.\n\nHe walks toward his car. She follows him.\n\n\n RAY\n Look, Mr. Versales", "stare at each other for a second or two, but Ray\n does not take out the gun. Lila reaches for the door\n handle\n\n Lila gets out. Ray drives away.\n\n\n\n53 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD - DAY 53\n\n The kitchen clock reads 3:55.\n\n 44.\n\n\n A RENTAWORLD truck is parked outside. Two large\n RENTAWORLD MEN sit in it. T.J. sees them from", "\n No!\n\n RAY\n Put it down.\n\n T.J.\n Are you gonna shoot me now, too?\n\n RAY\n Put that thing down!\n\nHe ignites the blow torch to spite her.\n\n T.J.\n Maybe he didn't like gettin' shot in his\n own house. Maybe that's why he left.\n\n 78.\n\n\n RAY\n That was an accident.\n\n T.J.\n", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", "\n\n Ray gets out holding the gun and a long rope goes to the\n bumper and begins to tie it to the other bumper, looking\n over her shoulder every once in while at the camper.\n\n Once she has tied the cars together she gets back into\n the Acclaim, but instead of driving off, she just sits\n there.\n\n After a moment, she gets out with the gun and walks up to\n the camper.\n\n The bullet hole in the door has a sock stuffed in it.\n\n RAY\n (", "Ray and Lila, he\n stops and says something to the other one.\n\n Both turn around and head back to the SUV.\n\n The DRIVER JACQUES BRUNO, a large Quebecois man, wearing\n a full-length fur coat gets out. They argue. He pulls out\n a LONG PISTOL and motions the men to the Acclaim.\n\n RAY\n What the hell is he doing?\n\n Ray reaches for her gun.\n\n LILA\n Keep that thing down.\n\n" ], [ " LILA\n We gotta get outta here, first.\n\n RAY\n Just COUNT IT and make sure it's all\n there!\n\nRay hands her the wad of money. Lila struggles to put on\nher glasses and counts out the money.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Is it there?\n\n 90.\n\n\n LILA\n It's all there.\n\n RAY\n Good.\n\n LILA\n ", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "37.\n\n\n52 EXT. ROUTE 37 INDIAN RESERVATION - SAME 52\n\n They continue down the road to the reservation line.\n After they pass the sign: YOU ARE ENTERING THE LAND OF\n THE MOHAWK, Ray pulls over and stops.\n\n Ray takes the money and consolidates it into one paper\n bag.\n\n LILA\n What about mine?\n\n RAY\n We're even now.\n\n\n They", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", "shoots at the pavement beside Bruno.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n Give it to her.\n\nThe Bartender disappears into the club. Ray waits with\nthe gun on Bruno.\n\n LILA\n (from inside the Acclaim)\n Let's get out of here. I'll give you the\n rest of the money.\n\n RAY\n No. But thanks.\n\n 89.\n\n\n LILA\n You're", ".\n Ray divides the money.\n\n 72.\n\n\n RAY\n Here.\n\n Lila takes the money and starts to get out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Merry Christmas or whatever.\n\n LILA\n Yeah.\n\n\n Lila gets out and goes inside.\n\n\n101 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER - NIGHT 101\n\n Ray drives up. The trailer is covered in Christmas\n", "He wanted to keep you and little Jake\n safe.\n\n The back door opens. Ray is there.\n\n RAY\n It's just a few months, right?\n\n Bernie and Lila turn around. Ray walks in.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I got baby stuff in the shed.\n\n 101.\n\n\n She takes the folded double-wide contract out of her\n pocket and holds it out to Lila.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "stare at each other for a second or two, but Ray\n does not take out the gun. Lila reaches for the door\n handle\n\n Lila gets out. Ray drives away.\n\n\n\n53 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD - DAY 53\n\n The kitchen clock reads 3:55.\n\n 44.\n\n\n A RENTAWORLD truck is parked outside. Two large\n RENTAWORLD MEN sit in it. T.J. sees them from", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "\n I'll take that.\n\n Ray motions him into the trunk and shuts it. Then she\n opens the bag and starts to rifle through it but Lila\n stops her.\n\n Lila\n What are you doing?! Just count the money\n and let's go.\n\n Ray looks down at the bag. Nothing is visible but\n clothes.\n\n LILA\n If we keeps snowing like this we won't be\n able to get across the river.\n\n RAY", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "If she leaves, they'll turn you in Lila.\n The troopers want somebody.\n\n RAY\n But, she's a Mohawk.\n\n BERNIE\n The Chiefs want her out, so there's\n nothing standing between her and the\n troopers.\n\n RAY\n Listen, my kids got no one but me.\n\n BERNIE\n If you leave she won't see her son again.\n\nRay and Bernie stare at each other.\n\n LIL", "full of cash. All fifties and\n hundreds. Ray counts it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n How much is there?\n\n 24.\n\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\nLila opens the glove compartment and presses the trunk\nrelease.\n\nJimmy motions to the Chinese men to get in the trunk.\nJimmy shuts it.\n\nHe taps twice on the hood of the car and walks back to\nthe garage.\n\n LILA" ], [ "Beyond them a smaller sign: \"THANK YOU FOR VISITING\n MASSENA NEW YORK, IT WORKS, for business, for family, for\n you\".\n\n\n2 EXT. BELOW THE BRIDGE - DAY 2\n\n The river stretches for miles in either direction,\n frozen, and still with trees on either side.\n\n\n3 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD, MASSENA NEW YORK - DAY 3\n\n RAY EDDY, ", "then backs away.\n Trooper Napoli is there.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Is there a Ray Eddy here?\n\n Ray comes to the door.\n\n RAY\n Yes.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Can I speak to you outside for a minute.\n\n RAY\n I haven't gotten the light fixed-\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n It's not about that. I just have a few\n questions.", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "'ve heard about it but I didn't\n know she was involved.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n How did you happen to meet her?\n\n RAY\n Uh, I think there was a sign for a baby\n sitter at the Wolf Mart. That's where I\n get my gas.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n I just thought you should be aware of\n that. She's known to have smuggled\n illegal immigrants into the country.\n\n RAY\n ", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double.", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "ushes in, looking sorry. As Pat\n hangs up her coat, Ray glimpses a tatoo just above her\n low riding pants with the words \"How You Doin'?\".\n\n Ray takes the last of her cigarettes out of the pack and\n heads out the back door.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n See ya' tomorrow.\n\n\n8 INT./EXT HORIZON, ROUTE 37 - DAY 8\n\n Ray drives down a two-lane highway. It is empty flat", "\nShe rolls down the window, digging for change under the\nseat of her car. She counts it out.\n\n RAY\n Just three...uh, no...two seventy one,\n two, three, four.\n\n MOHAWK TEENAGER\n Two seventy four.\n\nHe nods and goes to the pump. She finds a wadded up five\ndollar bill.\n\n RAY\n (yells out window)\n Make that seven seventy four.\n\nShe spots a sign for \"TRAILWAYS\" bus", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "trucks.\n\n T.J.\n Are they really coming?\n\n RAY\n Yeah.\n\n T.J.\n Where's dad?\n\nShe is silent.\n\n T.J. (CONT'D)\n (says it slow)\n Where's dad?\n\nShe looks at him.\n\n RAY\n I don't know how he found it, T.J.\n\n T.J.\n Found what?\n\nRay takes a drag off her cigarette.", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "wad of cash in the can and jumps down from\n the tree. She leaves it near the front door and hurries\n into the woods.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n57 INT. T.J. AND RICKY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 57\n\n Ray tucks Ricky into the bottom bunk. The wind whines in\n the loose siding. Ray stuffs a blanket around the window\n to block the draft.\n\n\n58 INT. RAY'S TRAIL" ], [ "Beyond them a smaller sign: \"THANK YOU FOR VISITING\n MASSENA NEW YORK, IT WORKS, for business, for family, for\n you\".\n\n\n2 EXT. BELOW THE BRIDGE - DAY 2\n\n The river stretches for miles in either direction,\n frozen, and still with trees on either side.\n\n\n3 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD, MASSENA NEW YORK - DAY 3\n\n RAY EDDY, ", "\nThat's what I mean. You're always on him.\n\"Where's your paycheck, do you need a\nmeeting, give me your receipts.\"\n\n RAY\nHe's an addict, T.J.\n\n T.J.\nYou're still bitter.\n\n RAY\nYou gotta help Ricky get the tree up\ntomorrow after school okay?\n\n T.J.\nWhere are you going?\n\n RAY\nChristmas shopping.\n\n 49.\n\n\n5", " T.J.\n You can't have it. It's mine.\n\nHis eyes fill with tears, but his face stays tight.\n\nShe grabs at it again, but he jerks it away. She pauses\nand stares at him.\n\n RAY\n He was clean for 23 months.\n\nThey look at one another.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (chokes back tears)\n I didn't know how else to keep us\n together. I mean...he's a good dad", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "then backs away.\n Trooper Napoli is there.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Is there a Ray Eddy here?\n\n Ray comes to the door.\n\n RAY\n Yes.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Can I speak to you outside for a minute.\n\n RAY\n I haven't gotten the light fixed-\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n It's not about that. I just have a few\n questions.", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "T.J.\n So let's go, let's find him before he\n blows it all.\n\n\n\n (CONT'D)\n\n 4.\n\n\n RAY\n I can't.\n\n T.J.\n What do you mean?\n\n RAY\n I just can't do it anymore.\n\n T.J.\n But he'll lose it all.\n\n RAY\n T.J., we can't make him stop", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", " Another Christmas in the tin crapper.\n\n T.J. goes into the shed and slams the door.\n\n Ray throws down her cigarette and goes into the trailer.\n\n\n\n4 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 4\n\n She looks around the cramped trailer at the oversized\n RENTAWORLD furniture including a big screen TV.\n\n An enlarged wall photograph of the family catches her\n eye. In it, her husband, TROY, SR., 40, wearing a", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double.", "Dealer tells the woman in Urdu. She becomes\n HYSTERICAL. She grabs Ray through the window and the\n dealer pulls her off.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's the matter with her!?\n\n DEALER\n She had something in the bag.\n\n The woman continues screaming in Urdu.\n\n RAY\n What is she saying!?\n\n He speaks to her in Urdu.\n\n DEALER\n She says her baby. Her baby was in the\n", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", ".\n\n LILA\n Maybe he wanted a younger women.\n\n Ray stares out at the ice.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n That's what usually happens.\n\n Ray says nothing.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n I never have to worry about that. My\n husband is dead. Went down in the river\n on a run. They never found him. Probably\n tangled in river weeds.\n\n She gives Ray a spooky look.\n\n ", ".\n\n He opens a can of RED BULL and takes a sip.\n\n MATT\n It's my opinion.\n\n RAY\n Well, I mean, you know, I do show up.\n Pat's late everyday. She's late now.\n She's always late.\n\n\n He stares blankly at her. She can think of nothing else\n to say. He walks out.\n\n Ray resumes unpacking ponies.\n\n A moment later PAT, 22, r", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "\n He's gambling away the money for our\n house.\n\n TICKET TAKER\n What does he look like?\n\n RAY\n Long brown hair. Tall. Skinny. Ponytail.\n\n TICKET TAKER\n He's not in there.\n\n RAY\n Can I just look?\n\n TICKET TAKER\n I told you, lady, he's not in there.\n\n Ray walks away. The ticket taker watches her.\n\n", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "ushes in, looking sorry. As Pat\n hangs up her coat, Ray glimpses a tatoo just above her\n low riding pants with the words \"How You Doin'?\".\n\n Ray takes the last of her cigarettes out of the pack and\n heads out the back door.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n See ya' tomorrow.\n\n\n8 INT./EXT HORIZON, ROUTE 37 - DAY 8\n\n Ray drives down a two-lane highway. It is empty flat" ], [ "Beyond them a smaller sign: \"THANK YOU FOR VISITING\n MASSENA NEW YORK, IT WORKS, for business, for family, for\n you\".\n\n\n2 EXT. BELOW THE BRIDGE - DAY 2\n\n The river stretches for miles in either direction,\n frozen, and still with trees on either side.\n\n\n3 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD, MASSENA NEW YORK - DAY 3\n\n RAY EDDY, ", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", "then backs away.\n Trooper Napoli is there.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Is there a Ray Eddy here?\n\n Ray comes to the door.\n\n RAY\n Yes.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Can I speak to you outside for a minute.\n\n RAY\n I haven't gotten the light fixed-\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n It's not about that. I just have a few\n questions.", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "\n\n Ray gets out holding the gun and a long rope goes to the\n bumper and begins to tie it to the other bumper, looking\n over her shoulder every once in while at the camper.\n\n Once she has tied the cars together she gets back into\n the Acclaim, but instead of driving off, she just sits\n there.\n\n After a moment, she gets out with the gun and walks up to\n the camper.\n\n The bullet hole in the door has a sock stuffed in it.\n\n RAY\n (", "Dealer tells the woman in Urdu. She becomes\n HYSTERICAL. She grabs Ray through the window and the\n dealer pulls her off.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's the matter with her!?\n\n DEALER\n She had something in the bag.\n\n The woman continues screaming in Urdu.\n\n RAY\n What is she saying!?\n\n He speaks to her in Urdu.\n\n DEALER\n She says her baby. Her baby was in the\n", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", "\n I'll take that.\n\n Ray motions him into the trunk and shuts it. Then she\n opens the bag and starts to rifle through it but Lila\n stops her.\n\n Lila\n What are you doing?! Just count the money\n and let's go.\n\n Ray looks down at the bag. Nothing is visible but\n clothes.\n\n LILA\n If we keeps snowing like this we won't be\n able to get across the river.\n\n RAY", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "\n Did you tell him you had it?\n\n RAY\n Duh? No, I guess he just sniffed it out.\n\n T.J.\n Jesus Christ! The glove compartment!?\n That's the stupidest place you could have\n put it.\n\n RAY\n He hasn't bought a scratch card in almost\n thirty two months. I thought it would be\n okay!\n\n T.J.\n Did he leave anything?\n\nShe shakes her head.\n\n ", "He wanted to keep you and little Jake\n safe.\n\n The back door opens. Ray is there.\n\n RAY\n It's just a few months, right?\n\n Bernie and Lila turn around. Ray walks in.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I got baby stuff in the shed.\n\n 101.\n\n\n She takes the folded double-wide contract out of her\n pocket and holds it out to Lila.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double.", "wad of cash in the can and jumps down from\n the tree. She leaves it near the front door and hurries\n into the woods.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n57 INT. T.J. AND RICKY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT 57\n\n Ray tucks Ricky into the bottom bunk. The wind whines in\n the loose siding. Ray stuffs a blanket around the window\n to block the draft.\n\n\n58 INT. RAY'S TRAIL", "\n 83.\n\n\n VERSAILLES\n (to the couple)\n Give me just a second.\n\n He tries to take Ray aside.\n\n VERSAILLES (CONT'D)\n What do you want?\n\n She pulls a huge wad of cash from her jacket pocket.\n\n VERSAILLES (CONT'D)\n Is this all of it?\n\n RAY\n It's three thousand but I want it\n delivered tomorrow.\n\n VER", "From down the road the Acclaim comes roaring along,\n kicking up dust.\n\n Ray swerves in and jumps out and runs up to the men.\n\n RAY\n It's okay. I got it right here. (she\n waves a wad of fifties and twenties). Two\n fifty five, right?\n\n The men nod, relieved. Ray counts out the money.\n\n Ricky bursts out the door and runs towards Ray.\n\n RICKY\n Mommy!\n\n 4", ".\n\n T.J.\n He stole our money. Call the Troopers.\n\n RAY\n It's not stealing if you take it from\n your family. Anyway, he made some of it,\n too.\n\n T.J.\n So you're just gonna sit there?\n\n RAY\n I'm sorry.\n\n In the distance the RUMBLE OF TRUCKS. Ray hears it. It\n gets louder.\n\n T.J.\n" ], [ "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "'ve heard about it but I didn't\n know she was involved.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n How did you happen to meet her?\n\n RAY\n Uh, I think there was a sign for a baby\n sitter at the Wolf Mart. That's where I\n get my gas.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n I just thought you should be aware of\n that. She's known to have smuggled\n illegal immigrants into the country.\n\n RAY\n ", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "players come out and get in cars surrounding\n Ray.\n\n Mohawks employees, including Lila come out of the\n \"Employees Entrance\". She starts toward Horizon. She\n wears new glasses.\n\n Catching sight of Ray in the Acclaim, she abruptly turns\n and starts walking in the opposite direction.\n\n Ray pulls out and drives over following her in the\n Acclaim.\n\n LILA\n I quit smuggling.\n\n RAY\n (rolls down the window)", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "hands her a brown paper bag.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Count it.\n\n Ray opens the bag and counts out the cash, as before.\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\n 27.\n\n\n Lila takes the cash from Ray and pops the trunk release.\n The two Chinese men hurry out. The Dealer ushers them\n into a Garage.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n\n34 INT. ACCLA", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double.", "ILA\n Bruno.\n\n She points to Bruno. Lila and Ray approach him. He is on\n his cell phone speaking in French.\n\n He looks them over, then closes up his telephone.\n\n BRUNO\n (French accent)\n You looking for a job.\n\n LILA\n No, Jimmy called-\n\n BRUNO\n Oh yeah, Jimmy. Okay.\n\n He calls over the Bartender. She comes over. He points to\n Ray and Lila", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "They\n used to have gambling there in the\n bootlegger days.\n\n\n\n\n44 EXT. CORNWALL ISLAND WOODS, OLD CASINO - NIGHT 44\n\n Ray and Lila bounce through the woods to a collapsed\n building. An old BLACK SUV pulls up from the opposite\n direction, FACING THEM.\n\n Two MIDDLE-AGED CHINESE MEN, get out of the back. One\n carries an envelope. At the sight of", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", ".\n\n Ray looks at Lila.\n\n LILA\n Open it.\n\n Ray rolls down the window again.\n\n BRUNO\n D'is will keep d'em from running.\n\n He hands her men's shoes and dirty socks.\n\n Ray takes the belongings and ROLLS up the window and\n drives away.\n\n\n45 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - DAY 45\n\n Ray drives across the river. The socks and shoes are", ".\n\n T.J.\n He stole our money. Call the Troopers.\n\n RAY\n It's not stealing if you take it from\n your family. Anyway, he made some of it,\n too.\n\n T.J.\n So you're just gonna sit there?\n\n RAY\n I'm sorry.\n\n In the distance the RUMBLE OF TRUCKS. Ray hears it. It\n gets louder.\n\n T.J.\n", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "\n 83.\n\n\n VERSAILLES\n (to the couple)\n Give me just a second.\n\n He tries to take Ray aside.\n\n VERSAILLES (CONT'D)\n What do you want?\n\n She pulls a huge wad of cash from her jacket pocket.\n\n VERSAILLES (CONT'D)\n Is this all of it?\n\n RAY\n It's three thousand but I want it\n delivered tomorrow.\n\n VER" ], [ " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "\n between them.\n\n RAY\n Why would they want to run?\n\n LILA\n To get away from the snakeheads.\n\n 40.\n\n\n RAY\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n The snakeheads pay to get them here and\n then they gotta work off what they owe .\n\n RAY\n How much does it cost?\n\n LILA\n Forty, fifty thousand. Depends where\n they're coming from", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the", " I paid the fine. I made the money back in\n two nights of smuggling. But back then it\n was cigarettes and everybody did it. Some\n of the troopers were into it, too.\n\n RAY\n Smuggling?\n\n LILA\n Yeah. But when they lowered the tax on\n cigarettes in Canada most people got out\n of it and the rest switched over to\n Chinese.\n\n\n50 EXT. BOB'S MOTEL - NIGHT 50\n", "off.\n\n LILA\n It's six hundred apiece.\n\n The girls stand shivering by the trunk.\n\n 87.\n\n\n BRUNO\n That's the deal I make with Jimmy, now\n you want to change?\n\nLila and Ray look at each other.\n\n LILA\n It's twelve hundred.\n\n BRUNO\n You want to make a problem?\n\nBruno glances at the Bartender watching from the back\n", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "don't know. What difference does it\n make?\n\n RAY\n A big difference.\n\nThe Pakistani couple stand outside the car, shivering and\nholding out the cash. The man carries a heavy duffle bag.\n\nRay rolls down the car window. The man holds out money to\nRay but she doesn't take it.\n\n LILA\n If we wait much longer we won't be able\n to get back across the river.\n\n RAY\n Look, I'm not driving just anybody across", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", " (Quebec-French accent)\n D'ey don't like de women driver.\n\n He hands Ray the envelope of cash.\n\n LILA\n Count it.\n\n Ray nervously COUNTS the money as the Chinese men shiver\n outside.\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\n Lila pops the trunk. Bruno and the Chinese men disappear\n around the back of the Acclaim. They hear the trunk\n SHUT.\n\n Bruno comes back to Ray's window and taps on it", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "A\n Not too fast. There's ruts.\n\n RAY\n I'm not crossing that!\n\n LILA\n Don't worry they already put out the\n Christmas trees. There's no black ice.\n\n RAY\n That's Canada.\n\n LILA\n No, it's Mohawk land. The Rez is on both\n sides of the river.\n\n RAY\n What about the border patrol?\n\n 21.\n\n\n", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "LILA (CONT'D)\n Just keep your mouth shut.\n\n Ray stares at the snarling dog.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Just keep it shut. Okay?\n\n Ray nods never taking her eyes off the dog.\n\n Lila honks the horn again and keeps the gun low and out\n of sight.\n\n Out of the garage comes JIMMY, 33, a stocky Mohawk,\n eating a sandwich.\n\n Jimmy looks suspiciously at Ray before he sees", "hands her a brown paper bag.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Count it.\n\n Ray opens the bag and counts out the cash, as before.\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\n 27.\n\n\n Lila takes the cash from Ray and pops the trunk release.\n The two Chinese men hurry out. The Dealer ushers them\n into a Garage.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n\n34 INT. ACCLA", "\n73 EXT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 73\n\n The Acclaim creeps along in heavy snow.\n\n\n74 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - SAME 74\n\n Lila struggles to count the money by the light of the\n glove compartment.\n\n LILA\n Is that a two or a five?\n\n 59.\n\n\n RAY\n (glances down)\n", "ROZEN RIVER - DAY 41\n\n Ray and Lila drive across the smooth surface of the\n river. Ray smokes with one hand and holds the gun with\n the other.\n\n\n LILA\n How many bedrooms?\n\n RAY\n Three. I got kids.\n\n LILA\n How old?\n\n RAY\n Five and Fifteen.\n\n LILA\n I got a boy. Almost one.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n " ], [ " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "got chased by the Quebec\n police and crossed the river but their\n car went in and now the troopers know\n they're on the Rez.\n\n ROSALIE\n Who is it?\n\n 96.\n\n\n THREE RIVERS\n Lila Littlewolf and some white woman.\n\n ROSALIE\n What do the troopers want?\n\n THREE RIVERS\n A surrender of the two illegals and the\n Non", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the", "don't know. What difference does it\n make?\n\n RAY\n A big difference.\n\nThe Pakistani couple stand outside the car, shivering and\nholding out the cash. The man carries a heavy duffle bag.\n\nRay rolls down the car window. The man holds out money to\nRay but she doesn't take it.\n\n LILA\n If we wait much longer we won't be able\n to get back across the river.\n\n RAY\n Look, I'm not driving just anybody across", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "\n between them.\n\n RAY\n Why would they want to run?\n\n LILA\n To get away from the snakeheads.\n\n 40.\n\n\n RAY\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n The snakeheads pay to get them here and\n then they gotta work off what they owe .\n\n RAY\n How much does it cost?\n\n LILA\n Forty, fifty thousand. Depends where\n they're coming from", "\n\n130 EXT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 130\n\n The CAR SINKS DEEPER INTO THE WATER on one side.\n\n\n131 EXT. FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 131\n\n Ray, Lila and the Chinese girls keep running, slipping\n and sliding, falling. Lila and Ray stop and go back to\n help one of the Chinese girls who keeps falling.\n\n When they get to the shore", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "A\n Not too fast. There's ruts.\n\n RAY\n I'm not crossing that!\n\n LILA\n Don't worry they already put out the\n Christmas trees. There's no black ice.\n\n RAY\n That's Canada.\n\n LILA\n No, it's Mohawk land. The Rez is on both\n sides of the river.\n\n RAY\n What about the border patrol?\n\n 21.\n\n\n", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "AY\n Shit!\n\n Ray bounces into the woods through the trees.\n\n\n124 EXT. ACCLAIM ON RIVER BANK - NIGHT 124\n\n The Acclaim emerges from the woods at the edge of the\n river. The International Seaway Bridge looms above the\n ice surface of the river.\n\n\n125 INT. ACCLAIM ON RIVER BANK - NIGHT 125\n\n Behind them the flashing lights close in.\n\n L", "\nHer voice is DROWNED OUT by REVVING engines.\n\nRicky rushes to her.\n\n RICKY\n Wait, where are they going?\n\nShe takes his face in her hands.\n\n RAY\n Listen to me. We'll get them back.\n\n RICKY\n But why are they leaving?\n\n RAY\n Ricky, I'll get them back. I promise,\n honey.\n\n RICKY\n That's our house!\n\nHe", "shore.\n\n Two hundred feet from the bank, the BACK RIGHT TIRE HITS\n A CRACK in the ice. The TIRE DROPS and the UNDER BELLY of\n the car SCRAPES THE ICE. SPARKS FLY.\n\n The RIGHT REAR END of the car DROPS DOWN and the FRONT\n LEFT TIRE LIFTS off the ice. The car TEETERS BACK AND\n FORTH.\n\n Ray and Lila sit perfectly still.\n\n ", "think you have much to worry\n about judging from the look of them,\n probably brought here to work in the sex\n trade.\n\n Ray looks at the two girls.\n\n RAY\n Will they get sent back?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Not necessarily. They can apply for\n asylum.\n\n 104.\n\n\n RAY\n Can I have a cigarette?\n\n He lights one for her. She takes it, shaking.", "land\n but for a few trailer homes and barns.\n\n She passes a lonely sign: \"BRIDGE TO CANADA.\"\n\n Up ahead another sign: \"AKWESASNE LAND OF THE MOHAWK.\"\n\n From the car, the Reservation consists of shabby houses\n with no siding, tax-free gas stations and dive bars with\n homemade signs. Ray slows a little to check out the\n parking lots scanning for her husband's car.\n\n Up ahead she sees a sign: \"WOLF", "Slow down a little. We gotta keep it\n under the speed limit.\n\n Ray smiles and wipes away the blood.\n\n They drive a short distance. Ray checks the rear-view\n mirror.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n We gotta get off this road.\n\n Lila looks in the rear view. Headlights appear behing\n them.\n\n Ray speeds up approaching an intersection: the sign reads\n \"ARRET\"\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Slow down!\n", "fast, there are ruts.\n\n\n\n23 EXT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - DAY 23\n\n The Acclaim moves across the smooth surface of the river.\n\n\n24 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - DAY 24\n\n Ray stares straight ahead clutching the wheel, barely\n breathing. Lila glances at the gun in Ray's hand, then\n out at the river, unfazed.\n\n They reach the midpoint of the", "impatient drivers.\n\n Beyond them, a smaller sign: \"THANK YOU FOR VISITING\n MASSENA NEW YORK, IT WORKS, for business, for family, for\n you\".\n\n\n154 EXT. BELOW THE BRIDGE - SAME 154\n\n The river stretches miles in either direction, no longer\n frozen and still with trees on either side.\n\n\n\n FADE OUT\n\n", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her" ], [ "don't know. What difference does it\n make?\n\n RAY\n A big difference.\n\nThe Pakistani couple stand outside the car, shivering and\nholding out the cash. The man carries a heavy duffle bag.\n\nRay rolls down the car window. The man holds out money to\nRay but she doesn't take it.\n\n LILA\n If we wait much longer we won't be able\n to get back across the river.\n\n RAY\n Look, I'm not driving just anybody across", "\n Behind them the Pakistani woman sits on the couch.\n\n Ray comes in, followed by Lila carrying the baby.\n\n RAY\n We found him.\n\n The Pakistani woman looks up, sees the bundle and hurries\n across the room to Lila. Lila holds out the baby with a\n little smile and the Pakistani woman snatches it out of\n her arms.\n\n The Pakistani women pulls back the blanket and sees the\n baby -- alive. She sinks to her knees letting out a\n ", " bag.\n\n The Dealer and the man hurry the wailing Pakistani woman\n into the garage.\n\n\n\n79 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 79\n\n Lila and Ray pull back onto Route 37 and drive along in\n stunned silence.\n\n RAY\n It didn't feel like there was anything in\n that bag.\n\n LILA\n We gotta go back.\n\n RAY\n I can't believe", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "Dealer tells the woman in Urdu. She becomes\n HYSTERICAL. She grabs Ray through the window and the\n dealer pulls her off.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's the matter with her!?\n\n DEALER\n She had something in the bag.\n\n The woman continues screaming in Urdu.\n\n RAY\n What is she saying!?\n\n He speaks to her in Urdu.\n\n DEALER\n She says her baby. Her baby was in the\n", "they put their baby in a\n duffle bag.\n\n LILA\n I can't believe you left it out there.\n\n RAY\n If you'd let me search it I would never\n have taken it-\n\n LILA\n We gotta go back.\n\n RAY\n I know! I know that.\n\n 63.\n\n\n Ray speeds along.\n\n\n\n80 INT. ROUTE 37, THE RESERVATION LINE - N", "take the time to learn\n English.\n\nLila pops open the trunk.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Just hold on a second.\n\nRay gets out.\n\n 58.\n\n\n71 EXT. ACCLAIM, JIMMY'S GARAGE LOT - NIGHT 71\n\n The Pakistani woman crawls into the trunk and the man\n picks up the duffle bag to put it in but Ray takes hold\n of it.\n\n RAY", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "sticks her head out the window but the snow and the\nwind are too strong. She stops.\n\nLila gets out with the wiper fluid. Ray pops the hood.\n\nRay looks in the backseat at the duffel bag. She\nhesitates a moment then reaches into the back and opens\nthe back passenger door and slides the bag out of the\ncar.\n\nLila gets back inside.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n What are you doing?\n\n RAY\n Nuclear power, poison gas,...you", "of Bob's. The Dealer\n hurries out to meet them.\n\n\n77 INT. ACCLAIM AT BOB'S MOTEL - NIGHT 77\n\n He hands Ray a wad of cash. She counts it, then nods to\n Lila who pops the trunk.\n\n\n78 EXT. ACCLAIM AT BOB'S MOTEL - NIGHT 78\n\n The Pakistani man and woman hurry out of the trunk,\n looking around, and rush to the", "\n The Acclaim pulls around back. The Pakistani Dealer\n approaches the car and hands Ray a paper bag full of\n cash.\n\n\n51 INT. ACCLAIM AT BOB'S MOTEL - NIGHT 51\n\n Ray takes the money.\n\n LILA\n Count it.\n\n RAY\n Right, I know.\n\n 43.\n\n\n LILA\n Well, be sure it's right. I don't wanna\n get", "el office circa\n 1950s with a few threadbare chairs. No one is at the\n front desk.\n\n Ray ventures behind the desk and knocks on a small door.\n She carefully opens it to a small office with a desk,\n cluttered with papers and, beyond it, another door. Ray\n knocks and opens it to:\n\n A living room hung with heavy red Pakistani fabrics and\n lights. The dealer and the Pakistani man study a map of\n New York State spread out on the table.\n", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the", "passenger door of the\n Acclaim, speaking frantically to each other.\n\n The Dealer tries to hustle them to the garage, but they\n won't be moved.\n\n Ray starts to back out, but the Dealer knocks on their\n window. Ray rolls it down.\n\n DEALER\n (heavy accent)\n They say there's a bag.\n\n RAY\n It was too heavy. We had to unload it.\n\n 62.\n\n\n The", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "\n I'll take that.\n\n Ray motions him into the trunk and shuts it. Then she\n opens the bag and starts to rifle through it but Lila\n stops her.\n\n Lila\n What are you doing?! Just count the money\n and let's go.\n\n Ray looks down at the bag. Nothing is visible but\n clothes.\n\n LILA\n If we keeps snowing like this we won't be\n able to get across the river.\n\n RAY", "\n I just hope these aren't the ones that\n blow up themselves and everybody with\n them.\n\n Ray zips the bag up and Lila helps her slide it in the\n backseat.\n\n\n72 INT. ACCLAIM AT JIMMY'S GARAGE LOT - NIGHT 72\n\n Ray and Lila get back in the car. Ray starts to count the\n money. Lila takes it back.\n\n LILA\n We don't have time.\n\n" ], [ "\n No!\n\n RAY\n Put it down.\n\n T.J.\n Are you gonna shoot me now, too?\n\n RAY\n Put that thing down!\n\nHe ignites the blow torch to spite her.\n\n T.J.\n Maybe he didn't like gettin' shot in his\n own house. Maybe that's why he left.\n\n 78.\n\n\n RAY\n That was an accident.\n\n T.J.\n", "shoots at the pavement beside Bruno.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n Give it to her.\n\nThe Bartender disappears into the club. Ray waits with\nthe gun on Bruno.\n\n LILA\n (from inside the Acclaim)\n Let's get out of here. I'll give you the\n rest of the money.\n\n RAY\n No. But thanks.\n\n 89.\n\n\n LILA\n You're", "\n\n Ray gets out holding the gun and a long rope goes to the\n bumper and begins to tie it to the other bumper, looking\n over her shoulder every once in while at the camper.\n\n Once she has tied the cars together she gets back into\n the Acclaim, but instead of driving off, she just sits\n there.\n\n After a moment, she gets out with the gun and walks up to\n the camper.\n\n The bullet hole in the door has a sock stuffed in it.\n\n RAY\n (", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", " Looks like somebody tried to blow your\n brains out.\n\n Ray winces in pain.\n\n VELMA (CONT'D)\n Get outta here, Jimmy. They gotta strip\n down. (to girls) Gimme those jackets.\n\n Velma motions to the Chinese girls to take off their\n coats. They stare at her shivering.\n\n She gently goes to one of the girls and helps her out of\n her jean jacket. Under it she wears a short sleeved shirt\n showing", "gonna get us all killed.\n\nA moment later the Bartender comes back, shaking and\nholding cash.\n\n RAY\n Put it there.\n\nShe indicates the trunk.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n You aren't so smart as you look.\n\n\nRay grabs the money and still pointing at Bruno, backs\ninto the car.\n\nBruno reaches for his pistol and aims at them as the\nAcclaim squeals away.\n\nBruno FIRES shattering the driver's side window", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", "woods. Ray reaches the\n stump.\n\n RAY\n (nervous)\n There's no road.\n\n LILA\n There's a path.\n\n Ray hesitates.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's not far.\n\n Ray turns and drives into deeper woods. The gun jiggles\n around in Ray's hand as they bounce along between the\n trees.\n\n Lila tries to ignore it.\n\n\n21 EXT", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", "17.\n\n\n18 EXT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 18\n\n Keeping behind the door for cover, Lila opens it. Ray\n looks inside: there is no sign of Troy.\n\n LILA\n (from behind the door)\n The Tribal police don't like people\n shooting holes in other people's houses.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n RAY\n This is New York State so quit the\n bullshit and", "stare at each other for a second or two, but Ray\n does not take out the gun. Lila reaches for the door\n handle\n\n Lila gets out. Ray drives away.\n\n\n\n53 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD - DAY 53\n\n The kitchen clock reads 3:55.\n\n 44.\n\n\n A RENTAWORLD truck is parked outside. Two large\n RENTAWORLD MEN sit in it. T.J. sees them from", " Some accident you shot him in the foot.\n\n RAY\n He spent the food money on scratch cards,\n T.J.\n\n T.J.\n So, he'd done it before.\n\nHe aims it at her. She walks towards him. He increases\nthe flame.\n\n RAY\n Gimme that thing.\n\nShe tries to grab it out of his hand, but he is too\nstrong.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n T.J. come on now.\n\n ", "Troy?\n\n\n16 EXT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 16\n\n Ray aims the gun and FIRES into the camper door.\n\n\n17 INT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 17\n\n The shock of the blast throws Lila off the cot. She looks\n at the SMOKING HOLE.\n\n RAY (O.S.)\n I'm not kidding, honey, come on out.\n\n ", "leans into the passenger side of the Acclaim and\npops the trunk. Bruno looks at Ray:\n\n 88.\n\n\n BRUNO\n You must be the brains of the operation.\n\nHe motions the girls into the trunk and shuts it after\nthem.\n\nLila get in the passenger side and Bruno starts for the\nback door of the club.\n\nRay pulls her gun out of her jacket and aims it at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Turn around!\n\nBruno stops and turns around.\n", "- NIGHT 85\n\n Ray and Lila creep along.\n\n LILA\n Look, there. Tracks.\n\n RAY\n (squints)\n Where?\n\n LILA\n Up there.\n\n Ray speeds up. Faint tire tracks appear in the distance.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Slow down, I don't want to run over it.\n Stop. I think it was here.\n\n Ray stops the car. Lila gets", "gotta get him first.\n\nLila stops dead in her tracks and looks at Ray.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I'll help you. You can even borrow my\n gun.\n\n\nLila looks around to see if anyone is watching and gets\nin the Acclaim with Ray.\n\nANGLE FROM BINGO PALACE ENTRANCE: The Ticket Taker\nwatches the Acclaim drive away.\n\n 82.\n\n\n112 EXT. ACCLAIM, VERSAILLES", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "20 INT. ACCLAIM IN RESERVATION WOODS - DAY 20\n\n Ray drives with one hand and holds the gun with the\n other. It is pointed at Lila in the passenger seat.\n\n LILA\n Turn up there.\n\n RAY\n Where?\n\n LILA\n Where that stump is.\n\n 20.\n\n\n Ray makes the turn with one hand and the car bounces\n through an overgrown path in the", "looks in at Lila,\n she keeps her head down.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Step around to the back of the vehicle.\n\n He follows Ray to the back of the Acclaim.\n\n\n94 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37, BREAKDOWN LANE - NIGHT 94\n\n He points at the trunk. Ray stares at it, afraid to\n speak.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n See that.\n\n Ray stares at" ], [ "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", "shoots at the pavement beside Bruno.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n Give it to her.\n\nThe Bartender disappears into the club. Ray waits with\nthe gun on Bruno.\n\n LILA\n (from inside the Acclaim)\n Let's get out of here. I'll give you the\n rest of the money.\n\n RAY\n No. But thanks.\n\n 89.\n\n\n LILA\n You're", "gotta get him first.\n\nLila stops dead in her tracks and looks at Ray.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I'll help you. You can even borrow my\n gun.\n\n\nLila looks around to see if anyone is watching and gets\nin the Acclaim with Ray.\n\nANGLE FROM BINGO PALACE ENTRANCE: The Ticket Taker\nwatches the Acclaim drive away.\n\n 82.\n\n\n112 EXT. ACCLAIM, VERSAILLES", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "17.\n\n\n18 EXT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 18\n\n Keeping behind the door for cover, Lila opens it. Ray\n looks inside: there is no sign of Troy.\n\n LILA\n (from behind the door)\n The Tribal police don't like people\n shooting holes in other people's houses.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n RAY\n This is New York State so quit the\n bullshit and", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "LILA (CONT'D)\n Just keep your mouth shut.\n\n Ray stares at the snarling dog.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Just keep it shut. Okay?\n\n Ray nods never taking her eyes off the dog.\n\n Lila honks the horn again and keeps the gun low and out\n of sight.\n\n Out of the garage comes JIMMY, 33, a stocky Mohawk,\n eating a sandwich.\n\n Jimmy looks suspiciously at Ray before he sees", " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "woods. Ray reaches the\n stump.\n\n RAY\n (nervous)\n There's no road.\n\n LILA\n There's a path.\n\n Ray hesitates.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's not far.\n\n Ray turns and drives into deeper woods. The gun jiggles\n around in Ray's hand as they bounce along between the\n trees.\n\n Lila tries to ignore it.\n\n\n21 EXT", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "Ray and Lila, he\n stops and says something to the other one.\n\n Both turn around and head back to the SUV.\n\n The DRIVER JACQUES BRUNO, a large Quebecois man, wearing\n a full-length fur coat gets out. They argue. He pulls out\n a LONG PISTOL and motions the men to the Acclaim.\n\n RAY\n What the hell is he doing?\n\n Ray reaches for her gun.\n\n LILA\n Keep that thing down.\n\n", "camper.\n\n RAY\n (knocks with the gun)\n You can cut the bullshit and give me my\n keys now.\n\n There is no reponse. Ray waits for a moment and then:\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (low voice)\n Troy, are you in there?\n\n There is no response.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n If you're in there you better come out.\n\n\n15 INT. LILA'S CAMP", "LILA (CONT'D)\n You better slow down there are ruts out\n here. You could get stuck in one.\n\n Ray speeds up and roars up the boat ramp off the ice\n skidding a little.\n\n\n29 EXT. ACCLAIM IN RESERVATION WOODS - DAY 29\n\n Ray and Lila bounce through the woods with Lila holding\n the gun, this time.\n\n They come to a dirt road then to an intersection with\n State Route 37.", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you" ], [ " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "'ve heard about it but I didn't\n know she was involved.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n How did you happen to meet her?\n\n RAY\n Uh, I think there was a sign for a baby\n sitter at the Wolf Mart. That's where I\n get my gas.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n I just thought you should be aware of\n that. She's known to have smuggled\n illegal immigrants into the country.\n\n RAY\n ", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN", "players come out and get in cars surrounding\n Ray.\n\n Mohawks employees, including Lila come out of the\n \"Employees Entrance\". She starts toward Horizon. She\n wears new glasses.\n\n Catching sight of Ray in the Acclaim, she abruptly turns\n and starts walking in the opposite direction.\n\n Ray pulls out and drives over following her in the\n Acclaim.\n\n LILA\n I quit smuggling.\n\n RAY\n (rolls down the window)", "\n between them.\n\n RAY\n Why would they want to run?\n\n LILA\n To get away from the snakeheads.\n\n 40.\n\n\n RAY\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n The snakeheads pay to get them here and\n then they gotta work off what they owe .\n\n RAY\n How much does it cost?\n\n LILA\n Forty, fifty thousand. Depends where\n they're coming from", " LILA (CONT'D)\n He lives with my mother-in-law. (after a\n moment) She stole him from me.\n\n RAY\n Stole him?\n\n LILA\n Yeah. Right out of the hospital.\n\n RAY\n Stole him?\n\n 37.\n\n\n LILA\n Tribal police don't get involved in stuff\n like that.\n\n\n Lila looks out across the river at dusk with no\n expression", "ROZEN RIVER - DAY 41\n\n Ray and Lila drive across the smooth surface of the\n river. Ray smokes with one hand and holds the gun with\n the other.\n\n\n LILA\n How many bedrooms?\n\n RAY\n Three. I got kids.\n\n LILA\n How old?\n\n RAY\n Five and Fifteen.\n\n LILA\n I got a boy. Almost one.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n ", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "If she leaves, they'll turn you in Lila.\n The troopers want somebody.\n\n RAY\n But, she's a Mohawk.\n\n BERNIE\n The Chiefs want her out, so there's\n nothing standing between her and the\n troopers.\n\n RAY\n Listen, my kids got no one but me.\n\n BERNIE\n If you leave she won't see her son again.\n\nRay and Bernie stare at each other.\n\n LIL", "LILA (CONT'D)\n You better slow down there are ruts out\n here. You could get stuck in one.\n\n Ray speeds up and roars up the boat ramp off the ice\n skidding a little.\n\n\n29 EXT. ACCLAIM IN RESERVATION WOODS - DAY 29\n\n Ray and Lila bounce through the woods with Lila holding\n the gun, this time.\n\n They come to a dirt road then to an intersection with\n State Route 37.", " I paid the fine. I made the money back in\n two nights of smuggling. But back then it\n was cigarettes and everybody did it. Some\n of the troopers were into it, too.\n\n RAY\n Smuggling?\n\n LILA\n Yeah. But when they lowered the tax on\n cigarettes in Canada most people got out\n of it and the rest switched over to\n Chinese.\n\n\n50 EXT. BOB'S MOTEL - NIGHT 50\n", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the" ], [ "Beyond them a smaller sign: \"THANK YOU FOR VISITING\n MASSENA NEW YORK, IT WORKS, for business, for family, for\n you\".\n\n\n2 EXT. BELOW THE BRIDGE - DAY 2\n\n The river stretches for miles in either direction,\n frozen, and still with trees on either side.\n\n\n3 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD, MASSENA NEW YORK - DAY 3\n\n RAY EDDY, ", "then backs away.\n Trooper Napoli is there.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Is there a Ray Eddy here?\n\n Ray comes to the door.\n\n RAY\n Yes.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Can I speak to you outside for a minute.\n\n RAY\n I haven't gotten the light fixed-\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n It's not about that. I just have a few\n questions.", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "'ve heard about it but I didn't\n know she was involved.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n How did you happen to meet her?\n\n RAY\n Uh, I think there was a sign for a baby\n sitter at the Wolf Mart. That's where I\n get my gas.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n I just thought you should be aware of\n that. She's known to have smuggled\n illegal immigrants into the country.\n\n RAY\n ", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double.", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "ushes in, looking sorry. As Pat\n hangs up her coat, Ray glimpses a tatoo just above her\n low riding pants with the words \"How You Doin'?\".\n\n Ray takes the last of her cigarettes out of the pack and\n heads out the back door.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n See ya' tomorrow.\n\n\n8 INT./EXT HORIZON, ROUTE 37 - DAY 8\n\n Ray drives down a two-lane highway. It is empty flat", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "Dealer tells the woman in Urdu. She becomes\n HYSTERICAL. She grabs Ray through the window and the\n dealer pulls her off.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's the matter with her!?\n\n DEALER\n She had something in the bag.\n\n The woman continues screaming in Urdu.\n\n RAY\n What is she saying!?\n\n He speaks to her in Urdu.\n\n DEALER\n She says her baby. Her baby was in the\n", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "\nShe rolls down the window, digging for change under the\nseat of her car. She counts it out.\n\n RAY\n Just three...uh, no...two seventy one,\n two, three, four.\n\n MOHAWK TEENAGER\n Two seventy four.\n\nHe nods and goes to the pump. She finds a wadded up five\ndollar bill.\n\n RAY\n (yells out window)\n Make that seven seventy four.\n\nShe spots a sign for \"TRAILWAYS\" bus", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n " ], [ " Huh?\n\n RAY\n (points to the Acclaim)\n What are you doing with my car?\n\n Lila fingers the keys in her hand.\n\n LILA\n That? I found it.\n\n RAY\n You stole it.\n\n LILA\n The keys were in it.\n\n RAY\n So you just took it...?\n\n Lila goes in the bubble camper and shuts the door behind\n her.\n\n Ray gets out of the", "- NIGHT 85\n\n Ray and Lila creep along.\n\n LILA\n Look, there. Tracks.\n\n RAY\n (squints)\n Where?\n\n LILA\n Up there.\n\n Ray speeds up. Faint tire tracks appear in the distance.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Slow down, I don't want to run over it.\n Stop. I think it was here.\n\n Ray stops the car. Lila gets", "Lila.\n\n Thunder growls.\n\n JIMMY\n Thunder! SHUT UP!.\n\n The dog GROWLS ferociously at Ray.\n\n JIMMY (CONT'D)\n Get back under there!\n\n Thunder jumps off the hood and disappears back under the\n trunk.\n\n 23.\n\n\n Jimmy walks around to the passenger side of the car. Lila\n rolls down her window.\n\n LILA\n Hi, Jimmy", "\n\n 36.\n\n\n They stand staring at each other for a long moment, then\n Ray walks over and unties the rope around the bumpers of\n the Acclaim and the Horizon.\n\n LILA\n I don't usually work with whites.\n\n RAY\n Suit yourself.\n\n Ray gets in the driver's side of the Acclaim and starts\n it. After a moment, Lila gets in the passenger side.\n\n\n41 EXT. ACCLAIM ON F", "ila pull into a used-car lot surrounded by a\n chain link fence. There is no sign of life. Ray stops.\n\n LILA\n Honk the horn.\n\n Ray honks.\n\n Suddenly, from under a gutted truck, A HUGE BLACK DOG,\n part wolf, SPRINGS onto the hood of the Acclaim.\n\n Ray is pinned against her seat at the sight of the dog.\n Lila GRABS the gun out of her hand and points it at Ray.\n\n ", "sight\n of it turning off on a dirt road.\n\n Ray makes the corner just in time to catch sight of the\n Acclaim bouncing off on a path through the woods.\n\n Ray follows it through the woods to a clearing: the\n Acclaim stops in front of a rusted out BUBBLE CAMPER.\n\n Lila gets out. Ray pulls up behind her and rolls down her\n window.\n\n RAY\n That's my car.\n\n Lila SPINS around.\n\n LILA\n", "river and pass it\n silently.\n\n LILA\n You gotta pick up some speed to get up\n the bank.\n\n 22.\n\n\n Ray speeds up. The Acclaim bounces up the steep bank.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's just on the other side of those\n trees.\n\n\n25 EXT./INT. ACCLAIM AT JIMMY'S GARAGE LOT- DAY 25\n\n Ray and L", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", ". Lila\n stops and they stand for a moment looking at each other.\n There is anger and sadness. Evelyn moves aside.\n\n Lila walks out with the baby.\n\n\n146 EXT. HOUSE ON POINT - NIGHT 146\n\n Bernie stands by the car holding a CAR SEAT.\n\n BERNIE\n She's gonna kill me for taking this out\n of her car.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n147 INT. NEW", " Then you should quit stealing cars.\n\n LILA\n I thought it was abandoned, the guy\n driving it got on a bus.\n\n Ray stops.\n\n RAY\n Did you see where the bus was headed?\n\n 18.\n\n\n LILA\n New York or Buffalo, I'm not sure.\n\nRay RE-TIES the tow line with the remaining rope.\n\nThis time the Horizon goes an inch or two before the rope\nSNAPS. Ray gets", "catches sight of her, but before Ray reaches the\n Horizon, Lila reaches the ACCLAIM, GETS IN IT AND BACKS\n OUT.\n\n RAY\n Hey!\n\n 15.\n\n\n But Lila drives off.\n\n Ray JUMPS back in the Horizon and TAKES OFF AFTER HER.\n\n\n14 EXT. RESERVATION ROADS - DAY 14\n\n Ray follows the Acclaim down Route 37 and catches", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "gs.\n\n LILA\n All I know is he pays good for a car like\n this.\n\n RAY\n Where does he live?\n\n LILA\n Through the woods. Not far.\n\n RAY\n What's in it for you?\n\n LILA\n He'll give me something for finding it.\n\n RAY\n If you try anything, I'm not afraid to\n use this.\n\n LILA\n Yeah.\n\n\n", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", " LILA (CONT'D)\n What?\n\n BERNIE\n What do you need a car for?\n\n LILA\n To get to work. So I don't have to walk\n in the breakdown lane. Last week I almost\n got hit by the plow.\n\n BERNIE\n You'll live. And you know what I'm\n talking about.\n\n LILA\n It doesn't have a trunk.\n\n He stares at straight ahead.\n\n", " LILA\n There's no border.\n\n RAY\n I'm still not crossing that.\n\n LILA\n Don't worry, it'll hold a Plymouth. I've\n seen semis cross it.\n\n Ray looks at Lila suspiciously.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n The only other way is the Cornwall bridge\n and they won't let you take that. (points\n at the gun).\n\n Suddenly, A TRUCK driven by", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "Lila watches out the camper window.\n\n Ray gets in the Acclaim and starts it up slowly TOWING\n the Horizon a few feet before the rope SNAPS.\n\n Ray gets out and looks at the broken rope. She begins\n digging in the trunk for more rope.\n\n Lila opens the camper door and looks at the bullet hole.\n\n LILA\n This camper belongs to my brother in law.\n He won't like this.\n\n RAY\n (over her shoulder)\n", "A\n Not there! Not with them.\n\n She starts to get out. He notices the Horizon, buried\n under the snow, near the camper.\n\n BERNIE\n (suspicious)\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n I bought it.\n\n BERNIE\n From who?\n\n LILA\n Some white lady.\n\n He says nothing. Taps his thumbs on the steering wheel,\n suspicious. A long moment passes.\n\n", "sticks her head out the window but the snow and the\nwind are too strong. She stops.\n\nLila gets out with the wiper fluid. Ray pops the hood.\n\nRay looks in the backseat at the duffel bag. She\nhesitates a moment then reaches into the back and opens\nthe back passenger door and slides the bag out of the\ncar.\n\nLila gets back inside.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n What are you doing?\n\n RAY\n Nuclear power, poison gas,...you" ], [ "\n between them.\n\n RAY\n Why would they want to run?\n\n LILA\n To get away from the snakeheads.\n\n 40.\n\n\n RAY\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n The snakeheads pay to get them here and\n then they gotta work off what they owe .\n\n RAY\n How much does it cost?\n\n LILA\n Forty, fifty thousand. Depends where\n they're coming from", "off.\n\n LILA\n It's six hundred apiece.\n\n The girls stand shivering by the trunk.\n\n 87.\n\n\n BRUNO\n That's the deal I make with Jimmy, now\n you want to change?\n\nLila and Ray look at each other.\n\n LILA\n It's twelve hundred.\n\n BRUNO\n You want to make a problem?\n\nBruno glances at the Bartender watching from the back\n", "...the Quebec Surete in pursuit of a\n vehicle with New York State plates,\n identified as a blue Plymouth Acclaim and\n the suspects are two women, suspected to\n be carrying illegals...\n\n He recognizes the car and u-turns.\n\n\n129 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 129\n\n Ray and Lila hold their breath as they cross the river.\n They make it over the midpoint and Ray accelerates toward\n the", " (Quebec-French accent)\n D'ey don't like de women driver.\n\n He hands Ray the envelope of cash.\n\n LILA\n Count it.\n\n Ray nervously COUNTS the money as the Chinese men shiver\n outside.\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\n Lila pops the trunk. Bruno and the Chinese men disappear\n around the back of the Acclaim. They hear the trunk\n SHUT.\n\n Bruno comes back to Ray's window and taps on it", " I paid the fine. I made the money back in\n two nights of smuggling. But back then it\n was cigarettes and everybody did it. Some\n of the troopers were into it, too.\n\n RAY\n Smuggling?\n\n LILA\n Yeah. But when they lowered the tax on\n cigarettes in Canada most people got out\n of it and the rest switched over to\n Chinese.\n\n\n50 EXT. BOB'S MOTEL - NIGHT 50\n", ", what, six\n thousand of us as it is.\n\n ROSALIE\n She makes the Mohawk people look bad.\n\n 97.\n\n\n BERNIE\n But she has a Mohawk son.\n\n ROSALIE\n She cost us a Mohawk son.\n\n BERNIE\n Jake was a big boy. He knew what he was\n doin'\n\n ROSALIE\n She'll never be anything but a smuggler", "think you have much to worry\n about judging from the look of them,\n probably brought here to work in the sex\n trade.\n\n Ray looks at the two girls.\n\n RAY\n Will they get sent back?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Not necessarily. They can apply for\n asylum.\n\n 104.\n\n\n RAY\n Can I have a cigarette?\n\n He lights one for her. She takes it, shaking.", " You got a run for us, Jimmy?\n\n JIMMY\n (shakes his head)\n It's pretty slow after Christmas. Unless\n you wanna to go off the Rez, there's a\n guy up in Montreal who's usually got\n heads.\n\n LILA\n How far?\n\n JIMMY\n Twenty miles or so. But...you gotta watch\n out for the Mounties and the Surete.\n and...this guy deals in ya", "'ve heard about it but I didn't\n know she was involved.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n How did you happen to meet her?\n\n RAY\n Uh, I think there was a sign for a baby\n sitter at the Wolf Mart. That's where I\n get my gas.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n I just thought you should be aware of\n that. She's known to have smuggled\n illegal immigrants into the country.\n\n RAY\n ", " THREE RIVERS\n Rosalie is worried people are gonna think\n the Mohawks let in terrorists. Plus, I\n got the Troopers on my back. They want\n the illegals and they say there's some\n white lady with them too. Is that true,\n Jimmy?\n\n 98.\n\n\n Jimmy looks away.\n\n THREE RIVERS (CONT'D)\n You got white women doing it now? Jesus.\n (after", "got chased by the Quebec\n police and crossed the river but their\n car went in and now the troopers know\n they're on the Rez.\n\n ROSALIE\n Who is it?\n\n 96.\n\n\n THREE RIVERS\n Lila Littlewolf and some white woman.\n\n ROSALIE\n What do the troopers want?\n\n THREE RIVERS\n A surrender of the two illegals and the\n Non", "\n the border.\n\n LILA\n Do you want the money or not?\n\n RAY\n I wanna know what's in the bag.\n\nRay looks out the car window and points to the bag\nspeaking loudly.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's in there?\n\nThe man looks at the woman.\n\n LILA\n They don't understand you.\n\n RAY\n Well, if they want to come over here so\n bad, they ought'a", "land\n but for a few trailer homes and barns.\n\n She passes a lonely sign: \"BRIDGE TO CANADA.\"\n\n Up ahead another sign: \"AKWESASNE LAND OF THE MOHAWK.\"\n\n From the car, the Reservation consists of shabby houses\n with no siding, tax-free gas stations and dive bars with\n homemade signs. Ray slows a little to check out the\n parking lots scanning for her husband's car.\n\n Up ahead she sees a sign: \"WOLF", "out.\n\n Bruno signals them to get out.\n\n BRUNO (CONT'D)\n Open the trunk.\n\n LILA\n We need to get paid, first.\n\n BRUNO\n Oh, yes.\n\n He pulls a wad of cash from inside his coat and hands it\n to Lila. She counts it out.\n\n LILA\n You only got six hundred here.\n\n BRUNO\n You get the rest at drop", "\nShe rolls down the window, digging for change under the\nseat of her car. She counts it out.\n\n RAY\n Just three...uh, no...two seventy one,\n two, three, four.\n\n MOHAWK TEENAGER\n Two seventy four.\n\nHe nods and goes to the pump. She finds a wadded up five\ndollar bill.\n\n RAY\n (yells out window)\n Make that seven seventy four.\n\nShe spots a sign for \"TRAILWAYS\" bus", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "the knees\nagain.\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Let's just go.\n\nHeld up by her hair, the girl slides around helplessly.\nLila winces at the sight. Ray stares at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Okay. We'll take them.\n\nLila looks at Ray.\n\nBruno drops the girl who scrambles to her feet.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n RAY\n Just open the trunk.\n\nLila", "each other.\n\n LILA\n It's gonna cost me to get that hole\n fixed. I froze last night.\n\n Ray holds up her hair revealing the cut over her eye.\n\n RAY\n I just need enough for the balloon\n payment on my doublewide then I'm out of\n this. I'm no criminal.\n\n LILA\n It's not a crime.\n\n RAY\n You people can call it what you want to.\n I just want my double.", "hands her a brown paper bag.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Count it.\n\n Ray opens the bag and counts out the cash, as before.\n\n RAY\n Twelve hundred.\n\n 27.\n\n\n Lila takes the cash from Ray and pops the trunk release.\n The two Chinese men hurry out. The Dealer ushers them\n into a Garage.\n\n LILA\n Let's go.\n\n\n34 INT. ACCLA", ".\n\n\n\n135 INT. MOHAWK TRIBAL POLICE STATION - NIGHT 135\n\n MOHAWK CHIEF OF POLICE, BILLY THREE RIVERS, a stressed-\n looking man in his 40's talks on the phone.\n\n THREE RIVERS\n -Good, good Mike. What can I do for you? -\n -You say non-native smugglers?\n -A white woman? On the Rez?\n" ], [ "ROZEN RIVER - DAY 41\n\n Ray and Lila drive across the smooth surface of the\n river. Ray smokes with one hand and holds the gun with\n the other.\n\n\n LILA\n How many bedrooms?\n\n RAY\n Three. I got kids.\n\n LILA\n How old?\n\n RAY\n Five and Fifteen.\n\n LILA\n I got a boy. Almost one.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n ", "From down the road the Acclaim comes roaring along,\n kicking up dust.\n\n Ray swerves in and jumps out and runs up to the men.\n\n RAY\n It's okay. I got it right here. (she\n waves a wad of fifties and twenties). Two\n fifty five, right?\n\n The men nod, relieved. Ray counts out the money.\n\n Ricky bursts out the door and runs towards Ray.\n\n RICKY\n Mommy!\n\n 4", "\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Wait, wait.\n\n They turn around. She digs in her pockets.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Here. Lunch money.\n\n They take it and keep running for the bus.\n\n Ray looks after them and reaches for her cigarettes. She\n takes out her second to last one. She lights it and takes\n out her mascara.\n\n She tries to put it on the bathroom mirror, but her tears\n keep getting in the way.\n\n ", "s:\n\n RAY\n Tap the bottom of his feet.\n\n LILA\n Why?\n\n RAY\n That's what they did to get Ricky\n breathing when he was born.\n\n Ray puts the baby on Lila's lap. She pulls away.\n\n LILA\n I don't want to touch it.\n\n RAY\n Well, I can't hold it and drive.\n\n 66.\n\n\n Ray cranks the he", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", " Ray helps Ricky into his clothes and puts his backpack on\n his back.\n\n RICKY\n Where's daddy?\n\n Ray and T.J. look at each other.\n\n RAY\n He'll be back.\n\n T.J.\n Aren't we even gonna look for him?\n\n RAY\n No! I'm going to work and you're going to\n school.\n\n T.J.\n That's it?\n\n ", "she's doing when she sees him and kneels\n down.\n\n RAY\n Hey, little sleepy head.\n\n RICKY\n Is it here yet? `Cause I'm ready.\n\n He drags a suitcase full of plastic dinosaurs around the\n corner.\n\n The RUMBLE OUTSIDE GROWS LOUDER. Ricky BOLTS out of the\n bedroom and down the hall to the trailer door.\n\n RAY\n Wait a sec-\n\n He burst", ".\n\n T.J.\n He stole our money. Call the Troopers.\n\n RAY\n It's not stealing if you take it from\n your family. Anyway, he made some of it,\n too.\n\n T.J.\n So you're just gonna sit there?\n\n RAY\n I'm sorry.\n\n In the distance the RUMBLE OF TRUCKS. Ray hears it. It\n gets louder.\n\n T.J.\n", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", "ation.\n\n RAY\n I told you, he could be in Atlantic City\n by now.\n\nShe helps Ricky get his backpack on and gives him a kiss.\n\n T.J.\n (shakes his head)\n The glove compartment. That's so stupid.\n\n RAY\n You're going to school.\n\n 10.\n\n\n He follows Ricky out the door to catch the school bus\n rolling up out front.\n\n Suddenly, Ray remembers:\n", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "RAY\n I didn't have a tow rope.\n\n T.J.\n I still say we go back there and kick\n some Mohawk ass.\n\n RAY\n Forget it T.J. Did you and Ricky eat?\n\n T.J.\n That would be kinda miraculous since\n there's no food in the house.\n\n RAY\n There's food.\n\n T.J.\n Popcorn and Tang.\n\n Ray goes towards the trailer", "\nHer voice is DROWNED OUT by REVVING engines.\n\nRicky rushes to her.\n\n RICKY\n Wait, where are they going?\n\nShe takes his face in her hands.\n\n RAY\n Listen to me. We'll get them back.\n\n RICKY\n But why are they leaving?\n\n RAY\n Ricky, I'll get them back. I promise,\n honey.\n\n RICKY\n That's our house!\n\nHe", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", "to travel. He liked\n to work in his shed, mostly.\n\n 85.\n\n\n Ray and Lila drive down a commercial strip of shopping\n centers, fast food joints and strip clubs, with French\n names.\n\n LILA\n Up there. That's it.\n\n RAY\n Can't miss that.\n\n118 EXT. LE CLUB SUPER SEXE - SAME 118\n\n Ray pulls in at a giant ne", "A\n Let her go.\n\n BERNIE\n Lila, you're giving up on him and he's\n only one year old.\n\n 100.\n\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Just go.\n\n Ray goes to the door, but turns around...\n\n RAY\n At least you got family to take care of\n him, ya' know?\n\n\n140 EXT. RESERVATION WOODS - N", "\n get your backpack.\n\nT.J. stares, sullen.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Go on!\n\n RICKY\n When is daddy coming home?\n\n RAY\n I don't know, Ricky.\n\n T.J.\n I can't believe you're not even gonna\n look for him.\n\n RAY\n Where? Where do I look? (He can't answer)\n\n T.J.\n The reserv", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", " LILA (CONT'D)\n He lives with my mother-in-law. (after a\n moment) She stole him from me.\n\n RAY\n Stole him?\n\n LILA\n Yeah. Right out of the hospital.\n\n RAY\n Stole him?\n\n 37.\n\n\n LILA\n Tribal police don't get involved in stuff\n like that.\n\n\n Lila looks out across the river at dusk with no\n expression", "\n Behind them the Pakistani woman sits on the couch.\n\n Ray comes in, followed by Lila carrying the baby.\n\n RAY\n We found him.\n\n The Pakistani woman looks up, sees the bundle and hurries\n across the room to Lila. Lila holds out the baby with a\n little smile and the Pakistani woman snatches it out of\n her arms.\n\n The Pakistani women pulls back the blanket and sees the\n baby -- alive. She sinks to her knees letting out a\n " ], [ "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", "T.J.\n Yeah.\n\n RAY\n Did you happen to use the blow torch?\n\nShe walks around back and looks underneath the trailer: a\nmass of charred and melted insulation.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Look at this. We can't live here anymore!\n\n T.J.\n It's just a tin crapper.\n\n RAY\n No, it was our house.\n\n T.J.\n So, we're gettin' a", ".\n What did he want? Did something happen to\n Dad?\n\n RAY\n No.\n\n T.J.\n Then what did he want?\n\n She points to the blackened siding on the trailer.\n\n RAY\n Did you have a fire last night?\n\n T.J.\n The pipes froze so I fixed `um.\n\n RAY\n You fixed um?\n\n 77.\n\n\n ", "RICKY\n Why is the police man here?\n\n T.J.\n Shh.\n\n From outside the door:\n\n RAY (O.S.)\n T.J. could you come out here for a\n minute.\n\n T.J. goes outside.\n\n\n107 EXT. TRAILER YARD - DAY 107\n\n Ray stands staring at T.J. at the trailer's burnt end.\n\n T.J", "\n No!\n\n RAY\n Put it down.\n\n T.J.\n Are you gonna shoot me now, too?\n\n RAY\n Put that thing down!\n\nHe ignites the blow torch to spite her.\n\n T.J.\n Maybe he didn't like gettin' shot in his\n own house. Maybe that's why he left.\n\n 78.\n\n\n RAY\n That was an accident.\n\n T.J.\n", "Have a Merry One.\n\n T.J turns to go back inside. He sees SMOKE RISING through\n the cracks in the siding and goes to the back.\n\n BLACK SMOKE POURS from under the trailer where old\n insulation is smoldering. T.J. runs to the shed, takes a\n fire extinguisher and sprays under the trailer. Steam\n rises. The fire appears to be out.\n\n\n83 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - NIGHT 8", "AY'S TRAILER - NIGHT 148\n\n The phone rings. T.J. picks it up.\n\n T.J. (O.S.)\n Hello. Hi, Mom.\n\n She hears his voice and can't speak.\n\n T.J. (CONT'D)\n -Mom are you there? What's wrong?\n -What kinda trouble?\n -What did you do?\n -A smuggler!? Holy shit!\n -", "trucks.\n\n T.J.\n Are they really coming?\n\n RAY\n Yeah.\n\n T.J.\n Where's dad?\n\nShe is silent.\n\n T.J. (CONT'D)\n (says it slow)\n Where's dad?\n\nShe looks at him.\n\n RAY\n I don't know how he found it, T.J.\n\n T.J.\n Found what?\n\nRay takes a drag off her cigarette.", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", ".\n\n T.J.\n He stole our money. Call the Troopers.\n\n RAY\n It's not stealing if you take it from\n your family. Anyway, he made some of it,\n too.\n\n T.J.\n So you're just gonna sit there?\n\n RAY\n I'm sorry.\n\n In the distance the RUMBLE OF TRUCKS. Ray hears it. It\n gets louder.\n\n T.J.\n", "new one, right?\n\n RAY\n Jesus, you could have killed yourself and\n your brother.\n\nShe grabs the blowtorch and slams it to the ground, but\nit is indestructible.\n\n T.J.\n It's not yours, he gave it to me.\n\nShe goes to the car, takes out her gun then puts the blow\ntorch on the ground and aims at it -- but T.J. grabs it.\n\n RAY\n Put it down.\n\n T.J.", " Some accident you shot him in the foot.\n\n RAY\n He spent the food money on scratch cards,\n T.J.\n\n T.J.\n So, he'd done it before.\n\nHe aims it at her. She walks towards him. He increases\nthe flame.\n\n RAY\n Gimme that thing.\n\nShe tries to grab it out of his hand, but he is too\nstrong.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n T.J. come on now.\n\n ", "5.\n\n\n She catches him in her arms and hugs him. T.J. stands at\n the trailer door, watching as the men drive away.\n\n RAY\n (to Ricky)\n Who wants to go the Price Chopper and get\n some Cap'n Crunch?\n\n RICKY\n I DO!\n\n RAY\n Wanna to go to the Price Chopper?\n\n T.J. walks out, looking at the money suspiciously.\n\n T.J", "s into the yard where:\n\n\n5 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 5\n\n A PICK-UP TRUCK DRAPED WITH A \"WIDE LOAD\" banner leads\n TWO SEMIS hauling halves of a DOUBLE WIDE MOBILE HOME\n wrapped in plastic, rippling in the wind.\n\n Ricky stops at the massive sight, twisting at his fly,\n trying not to pee himself.\n\n T.J. comes out of the shed.", "inside the\n trailer. He comes outside.\n\n He walks up to the trunk. One of the men rolls down the\n window.\n\n T.J.\n My mom told me to give you her credit\n card number.\n\n RENTACENTER MAN\n (weary)\n We only take cash or money orders.\n\n T.J.\n Well, my Mom might be late.\n\n RENTACENTER MAN\n She's got three minutes.\n\n T.J. goes back", " He speaks sternly to T.J., pointing at the cruiser where\n an elderly and frail Mohawk women in her eighties, Mrs.\n ThreeRivers, looks out the window.\n\n T.J. walks over to the cruiser. She rolls down the\n window. He says something to her, looking at the ground\n as he speaks.\n\n Ricky and Lila holding Little Jake look on.\n\n Billy Two Rivers drives away.\n\n SUDDENLY T.J. and Ricky LOOK UP. A RUMBLE", " Another Christmas in the tin crapper.\n\n T.J. goes into the shed and slams the door.\n\n Ray throws down her cigarette and goes into the trailer.\n\n\n\n4 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 4\n\n She looks around the cramped trailer at the oversized\n RENTAWORLD furniture including a big screen TV.\n\n An enlarged wall photograph of the family catches her\n eye. In it, her husband, TROY, SR., 40, wearing a", "RAY\n I didn't have a tow rope.\n\n T.J.\n I still say we go back there and kick\n some Mohawk ass.\n\n RAY\n Forget it T.J. Did you and Ricky eat?\n\n T.J.\n That would be kinda miraculous since\n there's no food in the house.\n\n RAY\n There's food.\n\n T.J.\n Popcorn and Tang.\n\n Ray goes towards the trailer", "T.J.\n So let's go, let's find him before he\n blows it all.\n\n\n\n (CONT'D)\n\n 4.\n\n\n RAY\n I can't.\n\n T.J.\n What do you mean?\n\n RAY\n I just can't do it anymore.\n\n T.J.\n But he'll lose it all.\n\n RAY\n T.J., we can't make him stop", "it, a small\n SHED and behind it the CONCRETE FOUNDATION FOR A HOUSE.\n\n Around her, the yard is littered with junk: a rusted ski\n lift chair, the front end of a Plymouth Duster and a\n SMILING DUCK Kiddie Ride.\n\n Beyond the yard, flat, winterbare land.\n\n After a moment, a lanky boy of 15, her son, TROY, JR.,\n leans out the trailer door.\n\n T." ], [ "\n Behind them the Pakistani woman sits on the couch.\n\n Ray comes in, followed by Lila carrying the baby.\n\n RAY\n We found him.\n\n The Pakistani woman looks up, sees the bundle and hurries\n across the room to Lila. Lila holds out the baby with a\n little smile and the Pakistani woman snatches it out of\n her arms.\n\n The Pakistani women pulls back the blanket and sees the\n baby -- alive. She sinks to her knees letting out a\n ", " bag.\n\n The Dealer and the man hurry the wailing Pakistani woman\n into the garage.\n\n\n\n79 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 79\n\n Lila and Ray pull back onto Route 37 and drive along in\n stunned silence.\n\n RAY\n It didn't feel like there was anything in\n that bag.\n\n LILA\n We gotta go back.\n\n RAY\n I can't believe", "Dealer tells the woman in Urdu. She becomes\n HYSTERICAL. She grabs Ray through the window and the\n dealer pulls her off.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What's the matter with her!?\n\n DEALER\n She had something in the bag.\n\n The woman continues screaming in Urdu.\n\n RAY\n What is she saying!?\n\n He speaks to her in Urdu.\n\n DEALER\n She says her baby. Her baby was in the\n", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "cash she left at her\n mother-in-law's house for her son.\n\n She looks towards the woods but there is no sign of\n anyone. She shuts the door.\n\n Inside she digs through an old box of junk and pulls out\n a 2 foot long oval shaped wooden board, an infant board,\n and a blanket. She wraps her pillow in the blanket around\n the board in the Mohawk tradition and picks it up.\n\n She tries it on her back, then leans it against the wall,\n then hangs", "Lila picks up the baby, and looks around.\n\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Where's his coat?\n\n EVELYN\n You can't have him.\n\n 103.\n\n\n She grabs Lila's arm, but Lila shakes her arm free and\n wraps Little Jake in her own jacket.\n\n LILA\n Say goodbye to your Dudah.\n\n Evelyn stands in front of the door, blocking Lila", " Two figures start toward the car. As they get closer, Ray\n sees a man and a woman. Both Pakistani.\n\n RAY\n Wait. They're not Chinese.\n\n LILA\n They're \"Pakis.\"\n\n RAY\n What does that mean?\n\n LILA\n They're from Pakistan.\n\n RAY\n Well where's that?\n\n 57.\n\n\n LILA\n I", "ater and aims the vents at the baby.\n Lila stares down at the baby in her lap, not touching it.\n\n LILA\n I don't think it matters.\n\n RAY\n At least put him next to your body. That\n will warm him up.\n\n LILA\n But it's too late.\n\n RAY\n Just do it! We can't give it back to her\n cold.\n\n\n89 INT. RAY'S TRAILER -", "\n Ray and Lila pull in to the motel but there is no sign of\n life.\n\n Ray gathers up the blankets. Lila sits motionless.\n\n RAY\n We gotta take it in.\n\n Lila sits absolutely still.\n\n 70.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What is it?\n\n LILA\n It's moving.\n\n RAY\n What? Are you sure?\n\n Lila slowly takes the baby from inside", "don't know. What difference does it\n make?\n\n RAY\n A big difference.\n\nThe Pakistani couple stand outside the car, shivering and\nholding out the cash. The man carries a heavy duffle bag.\n\nRay rolls down the car window. The man holds out money to\nRay but she doesn't take it.\n\n LILA\n If we wait much longer we won't be able\n to get back across the river.\n\n RAY\n Look, I'm not driving just anybody across", "her jacket. His\n eyes open. He blinks. Ray and Lila stare at him.\n\n LILA\n Hello little baby.\n\n The baby looks back at them.\n\n RAY\n He was just cold.\n\n Ray and Lila wrap him up in the blankets and get out with\n Lila carrying the bundle and walk into the motel office.\n\n\n98 INT. BOB'S MOTEL - SAME 98\n\n Ray and Lila look around the shabby mot", "walking.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Are you still mad about that baby? `Cause\n it wasn't all my fault, ya' know. I mean\n who puts their kid in a duffle bag?\n\nLila keeps walking. Ray follows trying to figure her out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n You're gonna need a lot of money to take\n care of a one year old baby.\n\n LILA\n I got enough.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, but you", "they put their baby in a\n duffle bag.\n\n LILA\n I can't believe you left it out there.\n\n RAY\n If you'd let me search it I would never\n have taken it-\n\n LILA\n We gotta go back.\n\n RAY\n I know! I know that.\n\n 63.\n\n\n Ray speeds along.\n\n\n\n80 INT. ROUTE 37, THE RESERVATION LINE - N", "sticks her head out the window but the snow and the\nwind are too strong. She stops.\n\nLila gets out with the wiper fluid. Ray pops the hood.\n\nRay looks in the backseat at the duffel bag. She\nhesitates a moment then reaches into the back and opens\nthe back passenger door and slides the bag out of the\ncar.\n\nLila gets back inside.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n What are you doing?\n\n RAY\n Nuclear power, poison gas,...you", ".\n\n\n88 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 88\n\n Ray gets in the car and sets the bundle down on the seat,\n unwraps it from layers of swaddling and begins taking off\n it's clothes. It is a boy.\n\n She tries to resuscitate him, but there is no response.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray keeps giving it air. There is no response but she\n keeps at it. Then, between breath", ". Lila\n stops and they stand for a moment looking at each other.\n There is anger and sadness. Evelyn moves aside.\n\n Lila walks out with the baby.\n\n\n146 EXT. HOUSE ON POINT - NIGHT 146\n\n Bernie stands by the car holding a CAR SEAT.\n\n BERNIE\n She's gonna kill me for taking this out\n of her car.\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n147 INT. NEW", "s:\n\n RAY\n Tap the bottom of his feet.\n\n LILA\n Why?\n\n RAY\n That's what they did to get Ricky\n breathing when he was born.\n\n Ray puts the baby on Lila's lap. She pulls away.\n\n LILA\n I don't want to touch it.\n\n RAY\n Well, I can't hold it and drive.\n\n 66.\n\n\n Ray cranks the he", "the tree Lila looks inside the window of the house\n where:\n\n A baby boy, \"LITTLE JAKE,\" about a year old, bangs his\n spoon on his high chair tray then throws it down.\n\n EVELYN LITTLEWOLF, 48, a tall thin Mohawk woman with long\n hair pulled back, picks it up and gives it back to him.\n\n He throws it again. She knows the game. She gives it\n back, but the third time she holds it just out of his\n reach", "wail.\n\n 71.\n\n\n Lila's eyes fill with tears. Ray chokes back her own.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (to Lila)\n Come on. Let's go.\n\n Lila follows Ray out, looking over her shoulder at the\n baby.\n\n\n99 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 99\n\n Lila and Ray drive away.\n\n LILA\n ", "If she leaves, they'll turn you in Lila.\n The troopers want somebody.\n\n RAY\n But, she's a Mohawk.\n\n BERNIE\n The Chiefs want her out, so there's\n nothing standing between her and the\n troopers.\n\n RAY\n Listen, my kids got no one but me.\n\n BERNIE\n If you leave she won't see her son again.\n\nRay and Bernie stare at each other.\n\n LIL" ], [ "shoots at the pavement beside Bruno.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n Give it to her.\n\nThe Bartender disappears into the club. Ray waits with\nthe gun on Bruno.\n\n LILA\n (from inside the Acclaim)\n Let's get out of here. I'll give you the\n rest of the money.\n\n RAY\n No. But thanks.\n\n 89.\n\n\n LILA\n You're", "\n No!\n\n RAY\n Put it down.\n\n T.J.\n Are you gonna shoot me now, too?\n\n RAY\n Put that thing down!\n\nHe ignites the blow torch to spite her.\n\n T.J.\n Maybe he didn't like gettin' shot in his\n own house. Maybe that's why he left.\n\n 78.\n\n\n RAY\n That was an accident.\n\n T.J.\n", "gonna get us all killed.\n\nA moment later the Bartender comes back, shaking and\nholding cash.\n\n RAY\n Put it there.\n\nShe indicates the trunk.\n\n BRUNO\n (to the bartender)\n You aren't so smart as you look.\n\n\nRay grabs the money and still pointing at Bruno, backs\ninto the car.\n\nBruno reaches for his pistol and aims at them as the\nAcclaim squeals away.\n\nBruno FIRES shattering the driver's side window", "s hair, Ray pries the gun out\n of Lila's hand. Lila grabs the sack of money, jumps out\n of the passenger side of the car and takes off into the\n woods.\n\n Ray chases her, but Lila is faster and gets ahead, then\n disappears into the woods. Ray stops, panting, and wipes\n the blood from her forehead.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (calls after her)\n Little bitch!\n\n Ray stares after her for a long moment", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", "\n\n Ray gets out holding the gun and a long rope goes to the\n bumper and begins to tie it to the other bumper, looking\n over her shoulder every once in while at the camper.\n\n Once she has tied the cars together she gets back into\n the Acclaim, but instead of driving off, she just sits\n there.\n\n After a moment, she gets out with the gun and walks up to\n the camper.\n\n The bullet hole in the door has a sock stuffed in it.\n\n RAY\n (", " Looks like somebody tried to blow your\n brains out.\n\n Ray winces in pain.\n\n VELMA (CONT'D)\n Get outta here, Jimmy. They gotta strip\n down. (to girls) Gimme those jackets.\n\n Velma motions to the Chinese girls to take off their\n coats. They stare at her shivering.\n\n She gently goes to one of the girls and helps her out of\n her jean jacket. Under it she wears a short sleeved shirt\n showing", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", "leans into the passenger side of the Acclaim and\npops the trunk. Bruno looks at Ray:\n\n 88.\n\n\n BRUNO\n You must be the brains of the operation.\n\nHe motions the girls into the trunk and shuts it after\nthem.\n\nLila get in the passenger side and Bruno starts for the\nback door of the club.\n\nRay pulls her gun out of her jacket and aims it at Bruno.\n\n RAY\n Turn around!\n\nBruno stops and turns around.\n", "Troy?\n\n\n16 EXT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 16\n\n Ray aims the gun and FIRES into the camper door.\n\n\n17 INT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 17\n\n The shock of the blast throws Lila off the cot. She looks\n at the SMOKING HOLE.\n\n RAY (O.S.)\n I'm not kidding, honey, come on out.\n\n ", "gotta get him first.\n\nLila stops dead in her tracks and looks at Ray.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I'll help you. You can even borrow my\n gun.\n\n\nLila looks around to see if anyone is watching and gets\nin the Acclaim with Ray.\n\nANGLE FROM BINGO PALACE ENTRANCE: The Ticket Taker\nwatches the Acclaim drive away.\n\n 82.\n\n\n112 EXT. ACCLAIM, VERSAILLES", " Some accident you shot him in the foot.\n\n RAY\n He spent the food money on scratch cards,\n T.J.\n\n T.J.\n So, he'd done it before.\n\nHe aims it at her. She walks towards him. He increases\nthe flame.\n\n RAY\n Gimme that thing.\n\nShe tries to grab it out of his hand, but he is too\nstrong.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n T.J. come on now.\n\n ", "stare at each other for a second or two, but Ray\n does not take out the gun. Lila reaches for the door\n handle\n\n Lila gets out. Ray drives away.\n\n\n\n53 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD - DAY 53\n\n The kitchen clock reads 3:55.\n\n 44.\n\n\n A RENTAWORLD truck is parked outside. Two large\n RENTAWORLD MEN sit in it. T.J. sees them from", "17.\n\n\n18 EXT. LILA'S CAMPER - DAY 18\n\n Keeping behind the door for cover, Lila opens it. Ray\n looks inside: there is no sign of Troy.\n\n LILA\n (from behind the door)\n The Tribal police don't like people\n shooting holes in other people's houses.\n\n Ray looks at her.\n\n RAY\n This is New York State so quit the\n bullshit and", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "Ray and Lila, he\n stops and says something to the other one.\n\n Both turn around and head back to the SUV.\n\n The DRIVER JACQUES BRUNO, a large Quebecois man, wearing\n a full-length fur coat gets out. They argue. He pulls out\n a LONG PISTOL and motions the men to the Acclaim.\n\n RAY\n What the hell is he doing?\n\n Ray reaches for her gun.\n\n LILA\n Keep that thing down.\n\n", "LILA (CONT'D)\n Just keep your mouth shut.\n\n Ray stares at the snarling dog.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Just keep it shut. Okay?\n\n Ray nods never taking her eyes off the dog.\n\n Lila honks the horn again and keeps the gun low and out\n of sight.\n\n Out of the garage comes JIMMY, 33, a stocky Mohawk,\n eating a sandwich.\n\n Jimmy looks suspiciously at Ray before he sees", "woods. Ray reaches the\n stump.\n\n RAY\n (nervous)\n There's no road.\n\n LILA\n There's a path.\n\n Ray hesitates.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's not far.\n\n Ray turns and drives into deeper woods. The gun jiggles\n around in Ray's hand as they bounce along between the\n trees.\n\n Lila tries to ignore it.\n\n\n21 EXT", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", ".\n\n Jimmy glances at Ray.\n\n JIMMY\n He don't like whites, Lila.\n\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n And your late.\n\n LILA\n Sorry.\n\n JIMMY\n I shouldn't even be dealing with you.\n\n LILA\n I know. Sorry.\n\n He hands her a paper bag.\n\n Jimmy goes back to the garage and opens the door. TWO\n YOUN" ], [ "- NIGHT 85\n\n Ray and Lila creep along.\n\n LILA\n Look, there. Tracks.\n\n RAY\n (squints)\n Where?\n\n LILA\n Up there.\n\n Ray speeds up. Faint tire tracks appear in the distance.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Slow down, I don't want to run over it.\n Stop. I think it was here.\n\n Ray stops the car. Lila gets", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", "shore.\n\n Two hundred feet from the bank, the BACK RIGHT TIRE HITS\n A CRACK in the ice. The TIRE DROPS and the UNDER BELLY of\n the car SCRAPES THE ICE. SPARKS FLY.\n\n The RIGHT REAR END of the car DROPS DOWN and the FRONT\n LEFT TIRE LIFTS off the ice. The car TEETERS BACK AND\n FORTH.\n\n Ray and Lila sit perfectly still.\n\n ", " RAY\n Yeah, you, too.\n\n She rolls up her window.\n\n\n95 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37, BREAKDOWN LANE - NIGHT 95\n\n In her rear view, Ray watches him get in his vehicle, u-\n turn and drive out of sight in the opposite direction.\n\n LILA\n (nervous)\n What did he want?\n\n RAY\n Just a blown out tail light.\n\n LILA", " Then you should quit stealing cars.\n\n LILA\n I thought it was abandoned, the guy\n driving it got on a bus.\n\n Ray stops.\n\n RAY\n Did you see where the bus was headed?\n\n 18.\n\n\n LILA\n New York or Buffalo, I'm not sure.\n\nRay RE-TIES the tow line with the remaining rope.\n\nThis time the Horizon goes an inch or two before the rope\nSNAPS. Ray gets", "s:\n\n RAY\n Tap the bottom of his feet.\n\n LILA\n Why?\n\n RAY\n That's what they did to get Ricky\n breathing when he was born.\n\n Ray puts the baby on Lila's lap. She pulls away.\n\n LILA\n I don't want to touch it.\n\n RAY\n Well, I can't hold it and drive.\n\n 66.\n\n\n Ray cranks the he", "a MOHAWK TEENAGER ROARS out\n of the woods and SWERVES around the Acclaim FISHTAILING\n then SPEEDING out across the ice.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n They plow it and everything.\n\n Cautiously, Ray lets off the brake and rolls down the\n boat ramp towards the smooth surface of the river.\n\n RAY\n (under her breath)\n This is so fuckin' stupid.\n\n LILA\n Not too", " A five.\n\nRay creeps along straining to see out the windshield. The\nwindshield fluid peters out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Shit!\n\nLila looks up. Outside is a wall of white.\n\n LILA\n You gotta stop so I can fill up the wiper\n fluid.\n\n RAY\n I'm not stoppin'.\n\n LILA\n It's a hundred feet deep out here if we\n get on black ice\n\nRay", "sticks her head out the window but the snow and the\nwind are too strong. She stops.\n\nLila gets out with the wiper fluid. Ray pops the hood.\n\nRay looks in the backseat at the duffel bag. She\nhesitates a moment then reaches into the back and opens\nthe back passenger door and slides the bag out of the\ncar.\n\nLila gets back inside.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n What are you doing?\n\n RAY\n Nuclear power, poison gas,...you", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "can't\n tell what they might have in there. I'm\n not gonna be responsible for that.\n\nRay tries the windshield wipers. Fluid clears the\nwindshield.\n\nRay dials her cell phone with one hand.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n -Hi, I'm gonna be a little late.(pause)\n -I have to work. Is Ricky asleep?\n -Put him on. (pause)\n -Ricky listen to me, he's not coming\n until you go to", "river and pass it\n silently.\n\n LILA\n You gotta pick up some speed to get up\n the bank.\n\n 22.\n\n\n Ray speeds up. The Acclaim bounces up the steep bank.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n It's just on the other side of those\n trees.\n\n\n25 EXT./INT. ACCLAIM AT JIMMY'S GARAGE LOT- DAY 25\n\n Ray and L", "Slow down a little. We gotta keep it\n under the speed limit.\n\n Ray smiles and wipes away the blood.\n\n They drive a short distance. Ray checks the rear-view\n mirror.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n We gotta get off this road.\n\n Lila looks in the rear view. Headlights appear behing\n them.\n\n Ray speeds up approaching an intersection: the sign reads\n \"ARRET\"\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Slow down!\n", "ila tries to push Ray out the driver's door with her\n feet.\n\n Ray clings to the steering wheel.\n\n 28.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n No!\n\n Suddenly, Ray grabs Lila by the hair and pulls her head\n down to the car seat. Lila hits Ray in the head with the\n gun.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n (gasps)\n Fuckin' bitch!\n\n Bleeding and holding Lila'", ", grazing\nRay's head.\n\nRay falls back, dazed for a moment. Lila steers. Then Ray\ntakes the wheel as they swerve out onto the main road.\n\n RAY\n He shot me.\n\nRay wipes the blood from her forehead.\n\n LILA\n You should'a just taken the money from\n me?\n\n RAY\n (blood streams down her face)\n I'm tired of people stealing from me. Is\n it all there?\n\n ", ".\n\n CUT TO:\n\n\n115 INT. ACCLAIM ON FROZEN RIVER - NIGHT 115\n\n Ray drives down the boat launch and starts across. The\n sky is clear and the moon shines down on the white river\n surface.\n\n Downstream patches of the river have thawed and water\n flows is visible.\n\n There is only the sound of the wheels on the smooth ice\n surface.\n\n\n CUT TO:\n\n ", "in sight.\n\n Ray comes up behind Lila, rifling through THE UNZIPPED\n DUFFEL BAG. She suddenly jumps back at the sight of the\n tiny face of an infant, wrapped in blankets, eyes closed,\n lips blue.\n\n LILA\n It's dead.\n\n Ray looks at the baby. Instinctively, she swoops down and\n gathers it up.\n\n Ray heads for the car.\n\n RAY\n Come on!\n\n Lila follows her", "ation.\n\n RAY\n I told you, he could be in Atlantic City\n by now.\n\nShe helps Ricky get his backpack on and gives him a kiss.\n\n T.J.\n (shakes his head)\n The glove compartment. That's so stupid.\n\n RAY\n You're going to school.\n\n 10.\n\n\n He follows Ricky out the door to catch the school bus\n rolling up out front.\n\n Suddenly, Ray remembers:\n", "\n Ray and Lila pull in to the motel but there is no sign of\n life.\n\n Ray gathers up the blankets. Lila sits motionless.\n\n RAY\n We gotta take it in.\n\n Lila sits absolutely still.\n\n 70.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n What is it?\n\n LILA\n It's moving.\n\n RAY\n What? Are you sure?\n\n Lila slowly takes the baby from inside" ], [ "YORK STATE TROOPER CRUISER - NIGHT 147\n\n Ray sits in the backseat. The two Chinese girls beside\n her.\n\n RAY\n How long is it for me. You know if I\n confess?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n As long as they're not on a watch list.\n Four months.\n\n He glances around at them.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI (CONT'D)\n I don't", "?\n\n RAY\n As soon as he can get here, I'll just run\n it down to you.\n\nT.J. could crawl out of his skin.\n\n VERSAILLES\n (ironic smile)\n This is the second time you've dragged me\n out here. If you don't come up with it by\n Christmas, you've lost your fifteen\n hundred dollar deposit.\n\nHe walks toward his car. She follows him.\n\n\n RAY\n Look, Mr. Versales", "\n Lila nods her head.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n But you gotta get there quick, before the\n police, `cause T.J. will get scared. I\n don't want him to get scared, you know.\n\n Ray chokes back her own tears.\n\n LILA\n Okay.\n\n Lila takes the contract from Ray.\n\n RAY\n And don't let him jerk you around.\n Versailles, I mean. (", "RAY\n What if he searches the car. What do we\n say about-\n\n LILA\n He won't, just remember you're white.\n\n Ray pushes the blankets onto the floor and kicks them\n under the seat.\n\n\n92 EXT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 37 - NIGHT 92\n\n Ray pulls into the breakdown lane and the trooper pulls\n in behind her.\n\n\n93 INT. ACCLAIM ON ROUTE 3", "Ray ignores her.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n Maybe two thousand.\n\n RAY\n Why's that?\n\n 19.\n\n\n LILA\n He's always looking for cars with button-\n release trunks.\n\n Ray thinks about it.\n\n LILA (CONT'D)\n He don't need papers or anything.\n\n RAY\n Does he use them to rob banks or\n something?\n\n Lila shru", "A\n Let her go.\n\n BERNIE\n Lila, you're giving up on him and he's\n only one year old.\n\n 100.\n\n\n LILA\n (to Ray)\n Just go.\n\n Ray goes to the door, but turns around...\n\n RAY\n At least you got family to take care of\n him, ya' know?\n\n\n140 EXT. RESERVATION WOODS - N", "stiffed.\n\n RAY\n Then why don't you count it?\n\n LILA\n I got bad eyes.\n\n\n She counts it and nods at Lila. Lila POPS the trunk and\n the barefoot Chinese men get out. Ray and Lila look at\n them, they look back, blank and ungrateful.\n\n Ray rolls down the window and tosses out their shoes and\n socks.\n\n RAY\n You're welcome.\n\n Ray swerves back out onto Route", ".\n\n RAY\n To get here?\n\n LILA\n Sometimes they gotta work for years to\n pay it off.\n\n RAY\n (disbelief)\n To get here? No fuckin' way.\n\n She gets a whiff of the socks.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n God those are ripe.\n\n She throws them into the backseat.\n\n LILA\n They always stink.\n\n\n Two more cars are seen coming", "T.J.\n So let's go, let's find him before he\n blows it all.\n\n\n\n (CONT'D)\n\n 4.\n\n\n RAY\n I can't.\n\n T.J.\n What do you mean?\n\n RAY\n I just can't do it anymore.\n\n T.J.\n But he'll lose it all.\n\n RAY\n T.J., we can't make him stop", "\n Did you tell him you had it?\n\n RAY\n Duh? No, I guess he just sniffed it out.\n\n T.J.\n Jesus Christ! The glove compartment!?\n That's the stupidest place you could have\n put it.\n\n RAY\n He hasn't bought a scratch card in almost\n thirty two months. I thought it would be\n okay!\n\n T.J.\n Did he leave anything?\n\nShe shakes her head.\n\n ", "5.\n\n\n RAY\n Not too long. She looks after my kids.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n She's a smuggler.\n\n RAY\n Really?\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes.\n\n RAY\n Wow. That's a shock.\n\n TROOPER NAPOLI\n Yes, well, there is that element on the\n Reservation I'm sure you know.\n\n RAY\n Yeah, I", "my part.\n\n Lila sits up on her cot and puts on her jacket.\n\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n I want my part.\n\n LILA\n I'll give you the money if you give me\n the car.\n\n RAY\n No way.\n\n LILA\n The money's gone.\n\n RAY\n Then I wanna get some more of those\n Chinese.\n\n The door opens. Ray steps back holding the gun. They look\n at", "stare at each other for a second or two, but Ray\n does not take out the gun. Lila reaches for the door\n handle\n\n Lila gets out. Ray drives away.\n\n\n\n53 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD - DAY 53\n\n The kitchen clock reads 3:55.\n\n 44.\n\n\n A RENTAWORLD truck is parked outside. Two large\n RENTAWORLD MEN sit in it. T.J. sees them from", "ation.\n\n RAY\n I told you, he could be in Atlantic City\n by now.\n\nShe helps Ricky get his backpack on and gives him a kiss.\n\n T.J.\n (shakes his head)\n The glove compartment. That's so stupid.\n\n RAY\n You're going to school.\n\n 10.\n\n\n He follows Ricky out the door to catch the school bus\n rolling up out front.\n\n Suddenly, Ray remembers:\n", " A five.\n\nRay creeps along straining to see out the windshield. The\nwindshield fluid peters out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Shit!\n\nLila looks up. Outside is a wall of white.\n\n LILA\n You gotta stop so I can fill up the wiper\n fluid.\n\n RAY\n I'm not stoppin'.\n\n LILA\n It's a hundred feet deep out here if we\n get on black ice\n\nRay", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "\n No!\n\n RAY\n Put it down.\n\n T.J.\n Are you gonna shoot me now, too?\n\n RAY\n Put that thing down!\n\nHe ignites the blow torch to spite her.\n\n T.J.\n Maybe he didn't like gettin' shot in his\n own house. Maybe that's why he left.\n\n 78.\n\n\n RAY\n That was an accident.\n\n T.J.\n", "\n\n RAY\n I'm not taking them over the border.\n That's a crime.\n\n LILA\n There's no border here. This is free\n trade between nations.\n\n RAY\n This isn't a nation.\n\nLila jams the gun into Ray's side.\n\n LILA\n (under her breath)\n Let's go.\n\nJimmy starts back toward the car. Ray puts the car in\nREVERSE and backs up.\n\n ", " T.J. (CONT'D)\n What are you gonna do?\n\n RAY\n Nothing.\n\n T.J.\n You could look for him?\n\n RAY\n He could be anywhere.\n\n T.J.\n We should look for him.\n\n RAY\n Where?\n\n T.J.\n The Rez,\n\n RAY\n With more than four thousand dollars,\n he's probably in Atlantic City by now.\n\n ", "\n 83.\n\n\n VERSAILLES\n (to the couple)\n Give me just a second.\n\n He tries to take Ray aside.\n\n VERSAILLES (CONT'D)\n What do you want?\n\n She pulls a huge wad of cash from her jacket pocket.\n\n VERSAILLES (CONT'D)\n Is this all of it?\n\n RAY\n It's three thousand but I want it\n delivered tomorrow.\n\n VER" ], [ "T.J.\n Yeah.\n\n RAY\n Did you happen to use the blow torch?\n\nShe walks around back and looks underneath the trailer: a\nmass of charred and melted insulation.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Look at this. We can't live here anymore!\n\n T.J.\n It's just a tin crapper.\n\n RAY\n No, it was our house.\n\n T.J.\n So, we're gettin' a", "\n T.J. set the trailer on fire.\n\n Lila keeps walking. Ray drives along beside her.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n He didn't mean to, but the pipes froze\n and he got that damn torch out -- which I\n told him not to do touch when I wasn't\n there -- and he tried to thaw them out-\n\n LILA\n I got glasses and now I can see up close.\n\n RAY\n There's", "BREAKS AWAY from her and RUNS down the road chasing\nafter the semis. Ray chases after Ricky until he runs out\nof steam and stops, panting.\n\nShe catches up to him and tries to hug him. He pushes her\naway. She gets down on her knees and takes his face in\nher hands.\n\n RAY\n We're gonna get it back.\n\nShe picks him up and walks back to the trailer. Ricky\nlooks out mournfully at the trailers disappearing down\nthe road.\n", "inside the\n trailer. He comes outside.\n\n He walks up to the trunk. One of the men rolls down the\n window.\n\n T.J.\n My mom told me to give you her credit\n card number.\n\n RENTACENTER MAN\n (weary)\n We only take cash or money orders.\n\n T.J.\n Well, my Mom might be late.\n\n RENTACENTER MAN\n She's got three minutes.\n\n T.J. goes back", "\n\n The Doubles come to a stop and idle in the yard.\n\n GUY VERSAILLES, pot-bellied, in a green velour running\n suit, squeezes out of his truck. On the door: \"MASSENA\n MODULAR AND MOBILE HOMES, NEW AND RECONDITIONED.\"\n\n Ricky grabs a rope hanging off one of the doubles and\n tries to climb the side of it. The TRUCK DRIVER looks\n down from his cab.\n\n T.J.\n", " (to Ricky)\n Get down.\n\n Ray peeks out the kitchen curtain.\n\n 6.\n\n\nAfter a moment she comes out of the trailer, with a\npasted-on smile.\n\n RAY\n We're all ready for ya'.\n\nShe points to the new concrete foundation. He consults a\nclipboard.\n\n VERSAILLES\n We'll need the balloon payment to unload.\n\nT.J. looks at Ray.\n\n RAY\n ", "A\n Not there! Not with them.\n\n She starts to get out. He notices the Horizon, buried\n under the snow, near the camper.\n\n BERNIE\n (suspicious)\n What's that?\n\n LILA\n I bought it.\n\n BERNIE\n From who?\n\n LILA\n Some white lady.\n\n He says nothing. Taps his thumbs on the steering wheel,\n suspicious. A long moment passes.\n\n", "Lila watches out the camper window.\n\n Ray gets in the Acclaim and starts it up slowly TOWING\n the Horizon a few feet before the rope SNAPS.\n\n Ray gets out and looks at the broken rope. She begins\n digging in the trunk for more rope.\n\n Lila opens the camper door and looks at the bullet hole.\n\n LILA\n This camper belongs to my brother in law.\n He won't like this.\n\n RAY\n (over her shoulder)\n", "s into the yard where:\n\n\n5 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 5\n\n A PICK-UP TRUCK DRAPED WITH A \"WIDE LOAD\" banner leads\n TWO SEMIS hauling halves of a DOUBLE WIDE MOBILE HOME\n wrapped in plastic, rippling in the wind.\n\n Ricky stops at the massive sight, twisting at his fly,\n trying not to pee himself.\n\n T.J. comes out of the shed.", "MOBILE HOME LOT - NIGHT 112\n\n Ray and Lila pull up outside the model double wide home.\n\n\n113 INT. ACCLAIM. VERSAILLES MOBILE HOME LOT - SAME 113\n\n Ray and Lila look at it.\n\n\n RAY\n You should see the inside.\n\n LILA\n How many bedrooms?\n\n RAY\n Three. And it's got a jacuzzi tub in the", "it, a small\n SHED and behind it the CONCRETE FOUNDATION FOR A HOUSE.\n\n Around her, the yard is littered with junk: a rusted ski\n lift chair, the front end of a Plymouth Duster and a\n SMILING DUCK Kiddie Ride.\n\n Beyond the yard, flat, winterbare land.\n\n After a moment, a lanky boy of 15, her son, TROY, JR.,\n leans out the trailer door.\n\n T.", "inside.\n\n\n54 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 54\n\n Ricky is glued to a cartoon. T.J. watches him, checking\n out the window every few seconds for Ray.\n\n A long moment passes with only the sounds from the\n cartoon.\n\n\n55 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER YARD - DAY 55\n\n The RENTAWORLD men get out of the car and start toward\n the trailer.\n\n ", "out.\n\n RAY\n (under her breath)\n Shit!\n\nRay RIFLES through the trunk for more rope.\n\n\"Home on the Range\" plays on the cell phone in Ray's back\npocket.\n\n\nLila touches the bullet hole in the camper and listens to\nRay's conversation from the doorway.\n\nRay puts the phone back in her pocket and takes an old\nbelt of her husbands and tries to attach the fenders of\nthe cars.\n\nRay gets back in the Acclaim and tries TOW", "5.\n\n\n She catches him in her arms and hugs him. T.J. stands at\n the trailer door, watching as the men drive away.\n\n RAY\n (to Ricky)\n Who wants to go the Price Chopper and get\n some Cap'n Crunch?\n\n RICKY\n I DO!\n\n RAY\n Wanna to go to the Price Chopper?\n\n T.J. walks out, looking at the money suspiciously.\n\n T.J", " Another Christmas in the tin crapper.\n\n T.J. goes into the shed and slams the door.\n\n Ray throws down her cigarette and goes into the trailer.\n\n\n\n4 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 4\n\n She looks around the cramped trailer at the oversized\n RENTAWORLD furniture including a big screen TV.\n\n An enlarged wall photograph of the family catches her\n eye. In it, her husband, TROY, SR., 40, wearing a", ".\n\n Ray stands and watches the trooper drive away. She feels\n in the pocket of her bathrobe for her cigarettes and\n fumbles to light one, sucking on it, unaware of the cold.\n\n When she turns around she looks at the trailer and\n notices the smoke-stained siding on one end of it.\n\n\n106 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - DAY 106\n\n T.J. listens at the door. Ricky looks up.\n\n ", "Have a Merry One.\n\n T.J turns to go back inside. He sees SMOKE RISING through\n the cracks in the siding and goes to the back.\n\n BLACK SMOKE POURS from under the trailer where old\n insulation is smoldering. T.J. runs to the shed, takes a\n fire extinguisher and sprays under the trailer. Steam\n rises. The fire appears to be out.\n\n\n83 INT. RAY'S TRAILER - NIGHT 8", "she's doing when she sees him and kneels\n down.\n\n RAY\n Hey, little sleepy head.\n\n RICKY\n Is it here yet? `Cause I'm ready.\n\n He drags a suitcase full of plastic dinosaurs around the\n corner.\n\n The RUMBLE OUTSIDE GROWS LOUDER. Ricky BOLTS out of the\n bedroom and down the hall to the trailer door.\n\n RAY\n Wait a sec-\n\n He burst", "38, a bit worn for her years, with a long red\n ponytail, wearing an old bathrobe, sits in the passenger\n seat of her RED PLYMOUTH HORIZON with the door open,\n smoking a cigarette, thinking. Her breath is visible in\n the cold morning air.\n\n Her bare feet rest on the cold ground.\n\n Her 1970's rusted out TRAILER HOME SITS in front of her\n on CINDER BLOCKS AT A SLIGHT TILT. Beside", ".\n Ray divides the money.\n\n 72.\n\n\n RAY\n Here.\n\n Lila takes the money and starts to get out.\n\n RAY (CONT'D)\n Merry Christmas or whatever.\n\n LILA\n Yeah.\n\n\n Lila gets out and goes inside.\n\n\n101 EXT. RAY'S TRAILER - NIGHT 101\n\n Ray drives up. The trailer is covered in Christmas\n" ] ]

[ "How many kids does Ray Eddy have?", "What is (are) the gender(s) of Ray's kids? ", "What do Ray and Lila begin trafficking to make money?", "Where do Ray and Lila bring the illegeal immigrants from?", "Where do Ray and Lila take the illegla immigrant to?", "How long is Lila ex-comunicated for?", "What does Ray threaten the owner of the strip club with?", "What are the instructions for that Ray leaves with Lila when giving her her share of the money?", "What is Ray Eddy's occupation?", "What addiction does Ray Eddy's husband struggle with?", "What was Ray Eddy planning on buying with the money Ray's husband took?", "What illegal activity does Ray engage in?", "How much do Ray and Lila charge immigrants for getting across the Canadian border?", "What must the immigrants cross to reach safety?", "What is in the duffel bag the Pakastani couple try to bring across the border?", "Where is Ray's body shot?", "Who are Ray and Lila helping when Ray gets shot?", "What type of communities are Ray and Lila smuggling people to and from?", "What is Ray Eddy's profession?", "Where did Lila find the car she was driving?", "How much do the women charge to traffick people from Canada to the U.S?", "What are the names of Ray's sons?", "Why does T.J.set the trailer on fire?", "Why did the women leave the Pakistani's infant baby in a bag in the cold?", "Who shoots Ray in the ear?", "Why does Ray drive over the lake and crash the car?", "How long will Ray have to go to jail?", "Who purchases the new trailer?" ]

[ [ "2", "2" ], [ "both boys", "male" ], [ "illegal immigrant", "THEY HAD FALLEN ON HARD TIMES ECONOMICALLY. " ], [ "Canada", "Canada into the United States" ], [ "USA", "The U.S." ], [ "5 years", "five years " ], [ "a gun", "WITH A GUN" ], [ "how to take care of her kids", "taking care of her sons and trailer purchase" ], [ "Store clerk", "discount store clerk" ], [ "An addiction to gambling", "gambling" ], [ "A mobile home", "a double-wide mobile home" ], [ "Trafficking immigrants", "TRAFFICKING PEOPLE " ], [ "$1,200.00", "$1,200 each" ], [ "a frozen river", "Frozen St. Lawrence River." ], [ "An infant", "baby" ], [ "The ear", "ear" ], [ "Two strippers", "2 Asian women" ], [ "Indian reservations", "Mohawk Reservation." ], [ "Discount store clerk", "discount store clerk" ], [ "She says she found it abandoned at the local bus stop, keys still in the ignition.", "The local bus station." ], [ "$1200", "1,200 each" ], [ "T.J and Ricky", "T.J and Ricky" ], [ "He was trying to unfreeze the water pipe.", "it was an accident when he tried to thaw frozen pipes" ], [ "They thought it was a bag of explosives.", "they were afraid that the bag contained explosives" ], [ "the strip club owner", "THE STRIP CLUB OWNER" ], [ "She is running from the police.", "to evade police" ], [ "About 4 months", "four months speculated" ], [ "Lila", "lila" ] ]

[ [ "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", "BETTY\n Dr. David Ravell.\n\n ELLEN\n You mean... George McCord, the actor?\n\n BETTY\n No, I mean David Ravell. He's a surgeon.\n\n Ellen looks at Betty.\n\n ELLEN\n Yeah, I know, we just watched him\n together, remember? Up there on the TV.\n (off Betty's earnest look)\n Good God Almighty ... You're", "(BEAT)\n I found out where they shoot it, and\n where the dressing rooms are.\n\n Charlie studies the photo, troubled by something.\n\n CHARLIE\n Who's this?\n\n 115.\n\n\n WESLEY\n A doctor on the show... why?\n\n Charlie thinks about it, then reaches into his pocket and\n takes out the photo of Betty with the cardboard David. As he\n compares the photos, Wesley", "m sorry. I left so quick, but\n I need to do this.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Do what?\n\n 56.\n\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Betty! Listen to me! Del is ...\n\n Betty hangs up.\n\n\n\n 71 INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT (ON TV SCRE", "calling me David. We're on set, for\n Christ's sake, you don't have to call me\n David here.\n\n As he pulls away Betty grabs his arm.\n\n BETTY\n Why are you doing this to me?\n\n GEORGE\n Why am I doing this to you? Isn't this\n what you wanted?\n\n Lyla approaches.\n\n LYLA\n Is there a problem, George?\n\n ", "V.O.)\n Hi Del, it's me. I guess you're busy.\n\n\n\n 8 INT. SIZEMORE MOTORS - TRAILER/OFFICE - DAY 8\n\n Del's very busy. He's on the rented sofa in the trailer's\n lounge, screwing his secretary, JOYCE. But as he rocks the\n couch, he's listening to Betty's message.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "... you're different.\n\n BETTY\n I am?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sure. You could probably have any thing\n you wanted... somebody as beautiful and\n stylish as yourself, and you don't even\n realize it.\n\n Betty looks curiously over at Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n I'm appreciably older than you, but my\n health is good. I take care of myself,\n and", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", " the suggestion.\n\n BETTY\n No problem.\n\n Betty flashes the men a winning smile and moves off, one eye\n always on the TV as she approaches two local types.\n\n SHERIFF ELDEN BALLARD, 32, a short, tightly wound little man,\n sitting at his own booth. Ballard is spit and polish all the\n way: creases in his shirt, a glossy shine on his shoes.\n Badge proudly displayed. He sits with\n\n", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", " BETTY\n It's your body...\n\n Betty turns back to change pots. The older man watches her\n intently as the younger of the two mumbles to himself.\n\n YOUNGER MAN\n (to himself)\n That's right, so why don't you get up off\n it...\n\n OLDER MAN\n Wesley...\n (to Betty)\n I've told him the same thing. Thanks for\n ", " Could I get some service here, please?\n\n Without looking, the waiter approaches, tops off her cup and\n moves back to watching the show. Betty smiles knowingly at\n this, takes a sip and settles back in her seat. Slowly, the\n world passes by.\n\n POSTSCRIPT:\n Betty Sizemore appeared in 63 episodes of \"A\n Reason to Love.\" She is using her earnings to pay\n for a nursing degree and is currently on vacation in\n ", " two battered, fuzzy TV sets.\n BETTY SIZEMORE, 30, has a wholesome attractiveness that\n competes with a bit too much makeup and a cheesy white\n waitress uniform. TWO OTHER WAITRESSES attend to customers\n behind her.\n The younger of the two guys is involved in the soap opera.\n But the older one, still wants coffee. He gestures toward\n Betty.\n\n OLDER MAN\n Miss?\n\n Betty leans", " GEORGE\n No! No problem, there is no...\n (to Betty, sotto)\n What is the problem? Just do that...\n thing... you do! Come on! You drove me\n nuts with this for three days, now do it!\n\n George steps back behind the cameras as if nothing's wrong.\n Betty still hasn't moved. She's shaking with fear. The cast\n and crew members find it hard to look at her.\n\n LY", "follows Betty out the door.\n\n\n\n 93 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 93\n\n Betty and Rosa make their way up the stairs of a Silverlake\n apartment house.\n\n At the sound of SCREECHING TIRES they both look down as a\n black Lincoln Town Car drives by. Betty shudders.\n\n ROSA\n You okay? This neighborhood, you get\n used to it...\n\n She nods. Rosa continues", " (BEAT)\n Go on now...\n\n DARLENE\n When you gonna get those things fixed,\n anyhow?\n\n COOK #1\n When you all quit watching 'em for a\n living...\n\n Frustrated, Betty delivers several plates and drops them at\n tables where the people know her by name. She moves off\n toward FOUR LOCAL GUYS in a booth jangling their empty cups.\n Betty weaves her way over to" ], [ "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of", " Wesley's head. Wesley looks at it and keeps on driving.\n\n Charlie knows this isn't the way to handle it. He lowers the\n pistol.\n\n CHARLIE\n If you don't take the next turn for the\n canyon, I'm blowing my goddamn brains all\n over this car.\n\n He puts the pistol in his mouth and cocks it. Wesley looks\n over, not so sure this time.\n\n LONG SHOT of the black", "in' 'Mother', I love you!' P.S. I\n wish I could say this to my mother's\n face, but I can't anymore.\"\n\n Wesley rolls his eyes and turns up the volume. Finally a car\n pulls up outside and Charlie snaps the book closed. He makes\n a quick attempt to arrange himself and motions to Wesley, who\n turns off the tape.\n\n A WOMAN with greasy blonde hair and skinny legs shown off by\n a short skirt comes in with another M", "peeks over his shoulder.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n What in the...\n (simmering)\n What the hell is this? You've been\n holding out on me. All this fucking\n time!\n\n CHARLIE\n It just didn't fit her profile...\n\n WESLEY\n Fuck the profile! That's the same guy!!\n\n CHARLIE\n She can't be", " WESLEY\n ... among others.\n\n CHARLIE\n I'd say that about torches her\n credibility, wouldn't you?\n\n WESLEY\n Yeah, well, if the wife's trying to sell\n it she'll fuck up. She's an amateur,\n just like Del was.\n\n The CAR PHONE RINGS. Charlie answers.\n\n 61.\n\n\n CHARLI", "\n Wesley finally looks up, directly at the picture of Betty.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Did you hear what I said?\n\n Wesley nods, his mouth stuffed with food.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Maybe you don't appreciate the gravity of\n this situation. It's bad enough that we\n don't have what we came here for. It's\n worse that we don't know where it is. And\n ", ")\n GET IN THE CAR!\n\n Wesley is in the car, but he's too scared to tell Charlie,\n whose eyes are blazing. Charlie silently walks around to the\n driver's side and gets in. He and Wesley stare at each other\n over a photo of Betty, which is between them on the dash.\n Charlie starts the engine and snatches up the picture.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n What're you thinking, girl? What's going\n ", "on the floor of the\n trunk as Charlie joins him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n It's all here. It hasn't been touched.\n\n The bottom of the trunk is lined with brown paper-wrapped\n bricks of cocaine. Charlie stares at it, shaking his head.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n You were right. Del wasn't lying.\n\n CHARLIE\n Well, you were right about what that", " WESLEY\n Man, you have got to get some therapy.\n\n CHARLIE\n I said 'got it?'\n\n 116.\n\n\n WESLEY\n ... yeah, I got it.\n (struggling)\n Come on, you're stretching out my vest...\n\n CHARLIE\n You made your point...\n (drops him)\n I was wrong.\n\n He carefully", " CHARLIE\n That was to get him to talk!\n (BEAT)\n Get rid of that thing, will you?\n\n Wesley crosses to the garbage can, steps on the lever. He\n looks at the scalp one more time before dropping it in.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n This is great - just great! Now we don't\n know where the goddamn stuff is.\n\n WESLEY\n He told us", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "\n Duane nods.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Del's dead, by the way. I sent him to\n the Great Beyond.\n\n WESLEY\n Actually, I scalped him, and then you\n killed him.\n\n Duane narrows his eyes in disbelief.\n\n CHARLIE\n Exactly.\n (BEAT)\n Now, the one thing I don't get is that we\n ", "7\n\n CHARLIE\n Now I'm gonna tell you what stupid is.\n Stupid is taking something that doesn't\n belong to you. Right Wesley?\n\n 26.\n\n\n WESLEY\n That's right.\n\n CHARLIE\n Stupid is trying to sell it to other\n people who are, by their very nature,\n untrustworthy.\n\n WESLEY\n ", "\n\n CHARLIE\n AND TURN THAT FUCKING MUSIC OFF!\n\n Wesley switches it off. Charlie turns his back to the car\n and addresses the angry clouds on the horizon.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do I deserve this? In the twilight of my\n career, do I deserve this? I don't think\n so! I've always tried to do what's\n right. I never took out anybody who", "His\n hair is uncombed and his clothes are wrinkled. His eyes have\n a thousand-yard stare.\n\n 84.\n\n\n WESLEY (O.S.)\n (CONT'D)\n Sounds like she's with the buyer Del\n lined up.\n\n Charlie pulls himself up on the door and looks down.\n\n CHARLIE\n How'd they describe her?\n\n WESLEY\n You know,", "\n CHARLIE\n Boy, you need to get outta my face...\n now! You got a feeling, then you do what\n you gotta do, but don't you ever try to\n tell me my job. Not ever.\n\n It's a standoff. Wesley blinks first. He stalks off and out\n of sight. In a moment, he returns.\n\n WESLEY\n Fine. Just fine... I'll go check some\n shit", " WESLEY\n Beer, please.\n\n DEL\n You got it.\n\n Wesley looks at a wedding portrait of Del and Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n Hey... you got a fine one right here!\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley...\n (to Del)\n Your wife's a very lovely woman. Have I\n seen her before?\n\n 21.\n\n\n D", ".\n\n\n CHARLIE\n I never said that I believed...\n\n WESLEY\n No, you believed her, we drove all the\n way to L.A. so that means you trusted her\n that much... so why's the rest of her\n story suddenly so kooky? Huh?\n\n CHARLIE\n 'Cause I just don't buy it. Call it\n instinct. Call it 35 years of\n ", " These\n heartlanders can't figure it out, 'cause\n that's not their sweet little Betty.\n Hah! We've been tracking her for, what,\n three days and I already understand her\n better'n most the people in that shitty\n little burg.\n\n Charlie pulls out the close-up photo and studies it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Betty, Betty, Betty...\n\n WESLEY\n", " CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Not her mouth...\n (to Betty)\n I've spent many long hours in a car with\n your face staring back at me. I've seen\n it painted on the horizon.\n\n WESLEY\n (to Charlie)\n What's wrong with you?\n\n 129.\n\n\n A KNOCK at the door ruins Charlie's moment.\n\n ROSA\n" ], [ "I'm not gonna let you just run\n out of here... You need to talk about\n what's going on...\n\n BETTY\n You think I'm crazy, Rosa, but you don't\n know the half of it. My husband was,\n ahh...\n\n ROSA\n Your husband?!\n\n BETTY\n Yes, I had a husband and he was killed\n two weeks ago in my kitchen. I was right\n there", "\n ROSA\n He has a wife?!\n\n BETTY\n Had. She died in a car accident last\n year. She was decapitated.\n\n ROSA\n God, that's awful!\n\n BETTY\n It may not have been an accident. They\n never did find her head...\n\n ROSA\n Her 'head'?! You're making this up...\n\n BETTY\n ", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "'re here\n to kill me, so kill me. You want me to\n be afraid, but I'm not. I don't care who\n you are, or why you two killed my\n husband...\n\n Charlie studies her, then sets his gun down on the bed.\n\n CHARLIE\n You really... didn't have anything to do\n with what Del was doing, did you?\n\n 132.\n\n\n BETTY\n ", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", "...\n\n Rosa stops.\n\n ROSA\n Jesus!... What are you saying?\n\n They stare at each other for a beat.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What?! That you had something to do with\n it?\n\n BETTY\n I don't know. I'm just starting to\n remember it now. I don't...\n\n 126.\n\n\n ROSA\n ", " BETTY\n Oh, that... Sure, I saw the whole thing.\n It was disgusting!\n\n ROY\n My God... did you get a look at who did\n it?\n\n BETTY\n Yes.\n\n ROY\n You did? Was it anyone that you...?\n\n BETTY\n It was Chloe...\n\n Sheriff Ballard enters the house, surveys the scene of the\n crime where one deputy w", "a DOCTOR. Ballard and Roy watch through a window.\n\n DOCTOR\n And did your husband know these people?\n\n BETTY\n Sort of...but he ignored them.\n\n DOCTOR\n And how did that make you feel, Betty?\n\n 37.\n\n\n BETTY\n I felt all cold inside. And angry.\n\n Ballard looks both ways to make sure he won't be overheard.\n\n ", "stops suddenly,\n blinks once or twice, topples over.\n\n\n\n 30 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 30\n\n Betty points her remote at the dining room and clicks it, as\n if trying to make the image disappear. Finally, she gives\n up, slowly turning away from the carnage and aims at the TV.\n \"A Reason to Love\" pauses on the face of David Ravell and\n Betty sits in absolute silence.\n\n\n\n 31 ", "at his shoulder, still holding\n a handful of his hair, still poised with the knife.\n\n DEL\n I got it from a truck driver named Duane\n Cooley, out of Amarillo. He brings my\n cars down from Detroit. But I haven't\n touched it, I swear to you... Please!\n Please! Please!\n\n Annoyed, Charlie stuffs the socks back in Del's mouth.\n\n Betty stares. Her gaze shifts from Del to Wes", ".\n\n Still surprised, and now a little intrigued, he watches her\n go inside.\n\n\n\n 117 INT. ROSA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT 117\n\n Betty comes in and pours a drink from the fridge. Rosa\n appears in a nightshirt behind her, framed in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n Were you with him this whole time?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, God! You scared me! Yes...\n", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "Betty's photo.\n\n CHARLIE\n She got out of town awfully fast. And\n wasn't she quiet in that house? I think\n most women would have screamed, don't\n you? I know they would've...\n (BEAT)\n\n 50.\n\n We could be dealing with a cunning,\n ruthless woman...\n\n\n\n 62 INT./EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - D", "'d like to apologize for our local boy.\n He's been in love with Betty since the\n fifth grade, y'see. He means well, but\n he's in over his head on this.\n\n\n\n 61 INT. TIP TOP DINER - NEXT MORNING 61\n\n CLOSE SHOT of a headline in the Wichita Eagle: \"EYE WITNESS\n TO BRUTAL MURDER MISSING\" over a picture of Betty. Charlie", " strokes her head.\n\n BETTY\n There... you rest now.\n\n The woman's eyes flutter. She is disoriented at first, then\n calms as she adjusts to the comforting sight of Betty. Betty\n takes her hand.\n\n OLDER WOMAN\n Who... who're you?\n\n BETTY\n I'm... I'm Nurse Betty.\n\n The woman smiles serenely at this and begins to drift", "\n LONNIE\n (laughs)\n You feel guilty? Let me remind you of\n something, sweetheart. You're in this up\n to those fabulous eyes of yours.\n Understand?\n\n The camera holds on her face for a melodramatic beat ...\n Chloe's trapped, and she knows it.\n\n PULL BACK to reveal Betty lying on the bed in her motel room,\n out cold.\n\n 44.\n\n", "d\n shoot you right now!\n\n The loading area is jammed with panicked people. Doctors and\n nurses creep out of the hospital on all fours, trying to stay\n\n 69.\n\n low. No one is getting to Rosa, whose frantic eyes find\n Betty. They look right at each other.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What are you standing there for?!\n\n Betty walks toward her calmly, indifferent to the danger as\n Rosa pulls", "put it quite that way,\n but...\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley didn't even want to come up here.\n He warned me, but I insisted...\n (BEAT)\n I have to ask you, Betty...are you crazy?\n\n BETTY\n I don't think I am.\n\n Charlie remains sitting pensively for a long beat.\n\n CHARLIE\n I want you to listen to me, Betty.\n People" ], [ "BETTY\n Dr. David Ravell.\n\n ELLEN\n You mean... George McCord, the actor?\n\n BETTY\n No, I mean David Ravell. He's a surgeon.\n\n Ellen looks at Betty.\n\n ELLEN\n Yeah, I know, we just watched him\n together, remember? Up there on the TV.\n (off Betty's earnest look)\n Good God Almighty ... You're", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", "'m David... I mean, I'm not David,\n but she thinks I am! You heard her...\n (looking around the group)\n Stop staring at me... I'm not crazy, she\n is!\n\n BETTY\n Why are you screaming at me? I mean,\n what am I... why am I here? I don't...\n\n GEORGE\n You're doing this now? After all the..\n are you sick? ", "(BEAT)\n I found out where they shoot it, and\n where the dressing rooms are.\n\n Charlie studies the photo, troubled by something.\n\n CHARLIE\n Who's this?\n\n 115.\n\n\n WESLEY\n A doctor on the show... why?\n\n Charlie thinks about it, then reaches into his pocket and\n takes out the photo of Betty with the cardboard David. As he\n compares the photos, Wesley", "\n about you... I'm George McCord.\n\n ROSA\n Not as much as I've heard about you.\n She's a very nice girl and you better not\n hurt her.\n\n GEORGE\n What?\n\n Betty appears.\n\n BETTY\n Rosa, so you've met David?\n\n ROSA\n Sure did! And a funny thing, Betty, he\n introduced himself to me", "\n\n DAVID (cont'd)\n It's not that I don't find you\n attractive. I'm just not ready...\n\n David looks up to find her lips on his. In spite of himself,\n he gives in to the warmth of her kiss and responds hungrily.\n\n Betty is mesmerized.\n\n 22.\n\n\n\n\n 25 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 25\n\n", "It's not David Ravell.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n Sorry, I thought you were someone else.\n (BEAT)\n Do you know Dr. David Ravell?\n\n The man shakes his head. Betty keeps going, looking around:\n it's incredible - the size, the activity, the intensity.\n\n\n\n 86 INT. HOSPITAL - EMERGENCY AREA - SAME TIME 86\n\n DOZENS OF PATIENTS lie on", "the canyon. Turning\n her head slowly, as if expecting it, she sees DAVID RAVELL\n leaning on the rail about twenty feet away, clutching a\n bouquet of roses.\n\n Betty starts toward him... he starts toward her... A magic\n moment... Shattered when a black sedan appears, inching its\n way along. She freezes. David vanishes, and ...\n An ELDERLY MAN helps his wife out of the car and snaps her\n picture in front of the canyon. Betty moves", "that's pretty\n good...\n\n ELLEN\n Nice move. Cedars Sinai?\n\n BETTY\n No. Loma Vista.\n\n ELLEN\n (laughs)\n I s'pose his name's David Ravell.\n\n BETTY\n (truly shocked)\n How did you know?\n\n ELLEN\n What's his real name?\n\n ", " because you get off on it, or you got\n serious problems. Which one is it?!\n\n BETTY\n I have no idea what you're talking about.\n\n ROSA\n I'M TALKING ABOUT DAVID RAVELL!!\n\n BETTY\n Shhh! I heard you the first time.\n\n ROSA\n (suddenly calm)\n I spent my weekend looking for someone\n who does - not", "this.\n You're gifted and extremely determined,\n but ... it's not up to me.\n\n BETTY\n I know. It's up to us.\n\n Betty leans over and kisses George - so deeply that he's too\n surprised to react. She pulls away abruptly and gets out.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n I love you, David. And I want to see you\n tomorrow, and the next day, and the next\n day", "off.\n Betty checks her monitors as the opening credits of \"A Reason\n to Love\" begin to play.\n\n She glances up at the doorway at the same moment and sees Dr.\n David Ravell standing at the entrance. He checks the chart\n on the door, smiles warmly at Betty and then moves off. In a\n flash, Betty is up and after him.\n\n The THEME MUSIC is her private soundtrack as she checks out\n every man in surgical scrubs, looking for David Ravell.\n", "calling me David. We're on set, for\n Christ's sake, you don't have to call me\n David here.\n\n As he pulls away Betty grabs his arm.\n\n BETTY\n Why are you doing this to me?\n\n GEORGE\n Why am I doing this to you? Isn't this\n what you wanted?\n\n Lyla approaches.\n\n LYLA\n Is there a problem, George?\n\n ", "(BEAT) So, how'd it go\n today? You find him?\n\n BETTY\n Ummm...no, no. Different 'Ravell.'\n\n Rosa starts to lead her to the bar.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n You know, the more I think about it, this\n really isn't David's kind of place.\n\n ROSA\n What are you talking about? This bar is\n packed with professional people!\n", "on David's shocked expression ... MUSIC UP AS\n\n DEL (O.S.)\n PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!\n\n Betty's not sure what Del said, but the panic in his voice\n got through. She hits PAUSE and takes a look.\n\n\n\n 29 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 29\n\n Del is facing her, tiny rivulets of blood running into his\n terrified eyes. Wesley stands", "HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 26\n\n Betty is glued to the TV, oblivious to the men. Chloe and\n David are still talking in his car. She continues to cry.\n\n DAVID\n (V.O.)\n You're wonderful, Chloe, you are... But I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me.\n\n\n\n 27 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 2", ". He said he'd be happy to give\n me a ride home.\n\n LONNIE\n (V.O.)\n You're beautiful.\n\n CHLOE\n Tell me something I don't know...\n\n Betty hits FAST FORWARD. Characters flit on and off the\n screen at top speed until David Ravell appears.\n\n\n\n 20 INT. WOODED ROADSIDE - NIGHT (ON TV SCREEN) 20\n", "\n Doctor, if you were any handsomer it'd be\n a crime...\n\n DAVID\n I guess that means you're free tonight.\n Of course, it's up to you...\n\n BETTY\n No, it's up to us. I love you, David.\n And I want to see you tomorrow, and the\n next day, and the next day...\n (they kiss)\n\n\n\n 151 INT. TIP TOP D", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", " 86.\n\n\n ROSA\n Doctor David Ravell.\n\n BETTY\n What? Where was he?!\n\n ROSA\n ON TELEVISION!!\n (off Betty's puzzled look)\n Cut the shit, will you!\n\n A BEAT. Rosa SLAMS the videotape down on the counter.\n\n ROSA (CONT'D)\n Either you're making a fool out of me\n " ], [ "\n over the title \"DOCTOR DAVID RAVELL.\"\n\n\n\n 105 INT. HOSPITAL PHARMACY - LATER STILL 105\n\n Betty working at a desk in the pharmacy. The same clerk as\n before busies himself at another counter. Rosa appears at\n the glass partition and raps urgently on it.\n\n ROSA\n Guess who I saw today.\n\n BETTY\n Who?\n\n ", "(BEAT)\n I found out where they shoot it, and\n where the dressing rooms are.\n\n Charlie studies the photo, troubled by something.\n\n CHARLIE\n Who's this?\n\n 115.\n\n\n WESLEY\n A doctor on the show... why?\n\n Charlie thinks about it, then reaches into his pocket and\n takes out the photo of Betty with the cardboard David. As he\n compares the photos, Wesley", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", "BETTY\n Dr. David Ravell.\n\n ELLEN\n You mean... George McCord, the actor?\n\n BETTY\n No, I mean David Ravell. He's a surgeon.\n\n Ellen looks at Betty.\n\n ELLEN\n Yeah, I know, we just watched him\n together, remember? Up there on the TV.\n (off Betty's earnest look)\n Good God Almighty ... You're", "Did... did you really come here because\n you love this guy?\n\n BETTY\n Yes... Not the actor, though, the doctor.\n I think.\n\n Charlie's sinks slowly to the floor.\n\n CHARLIE\n So all this...really was because of that\n soap opera? My son is dead because you\n came out here to be with that doctor? A\n fake doctor?\n\n BETTY\n I wouldn't have", "\n Doctor, if you were any handsomer it'd be\n a crime...\n\n DAVID\n I guess that means you're free tonight.\n Of course, it's up to you...\n\n BETTY\n No, it's up to us. I love you, David.\n And I want to see you tomorrow, and the\n next day, and the next day...\n (they kiss)\n\n\n\n 151 INT. TIP TOP D", "the canyon. Turning\n her head slowly, as if expecting it, she sees DAVID RAVELL\n leaning on the rail about twenty feet away, clutching a\n bouquet of roses.\n\n Betty starts toward him... he starts toward her... A magic\n moment... Shattered when a black sedan appears, inching its\n way along. She freezes. David vanishes, and ...\n An ELDERLY MAN helps his wife out of the car and snaps her\n picture in front of the canyon. Betty moves", "(BEAT) So, how'd it go\n today? You find him?\n\n BETTY\n Ummm...no, no. Different 'Ravell.'\n\n Rosa starts to lead her to the bar.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n You know, the more I think about it, this\n really isn't David's kind of place.\n\n ROSA\n What are you talking about? This bar is\n packed with professional people!\n", "MEN.\n Several women approach George, some starry-eyed, for quick,\n polite greetings. He's doing his job of being a soap star.\n\n Rosa waits for an opening, then puts her hands on Betty's\n shoulders and points her at George.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n Look who's here!\n\n Betty's jaw drops. She freezes.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What are you waiting for? Talk", "It's not David Ravell.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n Sorry, I thought you were someone else.\n (BEAT)\n Do you know Dr. David Ravell?\n\n The man shakes his head. Betty keeps going, looking around:\n it's incredible - the size, the activity, the intensity.\n\n\n\n 86 INT. HOSPITAL - EMERGENCY AREA - SAME TIME 86\n\n DOZENS OF PATIENTS lie on", "calling me David. We're on set, for\n Christ's sake, you don't have to call me\n David here.\n\n As he pulls away Betty grabs his arm.\n\n BETTY\n Why are you doing this to me?\n\n GEORGE\n Why am I doing this to you? Isn't this\n what you wanted?\n\n Lyla approaches.\n\n LYLA\n Is there a problem, George?\n\n ", "'m David... I mean, I'm not David,\n but she thinks I am! You heard her...\n (looking around the group)\n Stop staring at me... I'm not crazy, she\n is!\n\n BETTY\n Why are you screaming at me? I mean,\n what am I... why am I here? I don't...\n\n GEORGE\n You're doing this now? After all the..\n are you sick? ", " but a soap opera groupie, aren't you?\n YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO! DO YOU??\n Well, why don't you get a fucking life,\n and stop ruining mine!\n\n Betty stands dead still as George continues to berate her.\n ALL SOUND slowly starts to drop out, then comes back abruptly\n with a RUSH. Suddenly a light snaps on for her and she\n stares at him.\n\n BETTY\n I'm sorry...", " 86.\n\n\n ROSA\n Doctor David Ravell.\n\n BETTY\n What? Where was he?!\n\n ROSA\n ON TELEVISION!!\n (off Betty's puzzled look)\n Cut the shit, will you!\n\n A BEAT. Rosa SLAMS the videotape down on the counter.\n\n ROSA (CONT'D)\n Either you're making a fool out of me\n ", "A\n You're making me look bad... My mother\n says I wouldn't move across the street\n for love.\n\n BETTY\n It's something I had to do. For David.\n\n ROSA\n 'David.' That's your guy. So, you\n staying with him?\n\n THE ICU NURSE enters and adjusts the bank of machines\n feeding, medicating and monitoring Danny. Betty watches with\n interest.\n\n ", "\n What the hell are you doing here?\n\n It's Del. He's in a pastel version of his usual shirt,\n slacks, and tie.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Well, are you gonna answer me? What'd\n you come here for?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love...\n\n DEL\n You're not on that soap opera thing\n again, are you? 'Cause you know what\n ", "off.\n Betty checks her monitors as the opening credits of \"A Reason\n to Love\" begin to play.\n\n She glances up at the doorway at the same moment and sees Dr.\n David Ravell standing at the entrance. He checks the chart\n on the door, smiles warmly at Betty and then moves off. In a\n flash, Betty is up and after him.\n\n The THEME MUSIC is her private soundtrack as she checks out\n every man in surgical scrubs, looking for David Ravell.\n", "stops suddenly,\n blinks once or twice, topples over.\n\n\n\n 30 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 30\n\n Betty points her remote at the dining room and clicks it, as\n if trying to make the image disappear. Finally, she gives\n up, slowly turning away from the carnage and aims at the TV.\n \"A Reason to Love\" pauses on the face of David Ravell and\n Betty sits in absolute silence.\n\n\n\n 31 ", "this.\n You're gifted and extremely determined,\n but ... it's not up to me.\n\n BETTY\n I know. It's up to us.\n\n Betty leans over and kisses George - so deeply that he's too\n surprised to react. She pulls away abruptly and gets out.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n I love you, David. And I want to see you\n tomorrow, and the next day, and the next\n day", " on in that pretty little mind of yours?\n Huh? You can tell me...\n\n He paws at the picture, imploringly. He mutters to himself.\n Wesley shakes his head and stares out.\n\n\n\n 96 INT. HOSPITAL - PHARMACY - DAY 96\n\n Betty sits in an office along with a CLERK who taps away at a\n computer keyboard while she studies a printed list of names.\n\n BETTY\n I" ], [ "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", ". Then back\n at his face, now obscured by blood pouring down from his\n head.\n She stares, horrified, and in that moment Del becomes... a\n MAN, staring back at her as he wipes the sweat from his brow.\n\n MAN\n Who are you talking to? Are you crazy?\n\n Betty backs away and melts into the flow of PEDESTRIANS.\n\n\n\n 135 INT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - LATER ", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "the canyon. Turning\n her head slowly, as if expecting it, she sees DAVID RAVELL\n leaning on the rail about twenty feet away, clutching a\n bouquet of roses.\n\n Betty starts toward him... he starts toward her... A magic\n moment... Shattered when a black sedan appears, inching its\n way along. She freezes. David vanishes, and ...\n An ELDERLY MAN helps his wife out of the car and snaps her\n picture in front of the canyon. Betty moves", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", " strokes her head.\n\n BETTY\n There... you rest now.\n\n The woman's eyes flutter. She is disoriented at first, then\n calms as she adjusts to the comforting sight of Betty. Betty\n takes her hand.\n\n OLDER WOMAN\n Who... who're you?\n\n BETTY\n I'm... I'm Nurse Betty.\n\n The woman smiles serenely at this and begins to drift", " but a soap opera groupie, aren't you?\n YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO! DO YOU??\n Well, why don't you get a fucking life,\n and stop ruining mine!\n\n Betty stands dead still as George continues to berate her.\n ALL SOUND slowly starts to drop out, then comes back abruptly\n with a RUSH. Suddenly a light snaps on for her and she\n stares at him.\n\n BETTY\n I'm sorry...", "stops suddenly,\n blinks once or twice, topples over.\n\n\n\n 30 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 30\n\n Betty points her remote at the dining room and clicks it, as\n if trying to make the image disappear. Finally, she gives\n up, slowly turning away from the carnage and aims at the TV.\n \"A Reason to Love\" pauses on the face of David Ravell and\n Betty sits in absolute silence.\n\n\n\n 31 ", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "m sorry. I left so quick, but\n I need to do this.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Do what?\n\n 56.\n\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Betty! Listen to me! Del is ...\n\n Betty hangs up.\n\n\n\n 71 INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT (ON TV SCRE", "m.p.h.\n ... 85 ... 90 m.p.h. She turns the radio up louder.\n\n When she approaches a sign saying \"You are leaving Kansas\"\n Betty suddenly becomes self-conscious. She eases up on the\n gas ... slows down ... does a U-turn and heads back toward\n Fair Oaks. She glances wistfully in her rear view mirror at\n the billboard that quickly fades into the distance.\n\n\n\n 15 EXT. BETTY'S", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "on.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n Sue Ann's taking me out and I thought it\n might be fun to go in a nice car...\n\n Joyce wriggles to a sitting position and begins to pull up\n her panties. Del shoots her a look that says 'I'm not\n finished yet!' They pantomime frantically back and forth\n until Joyce throws him the finger and SLAMS out the door.\n\n BETTY (V.O)\n ", "Now roll them\n into a ball...\n\n Del does it.\n\n DEL\n Oh, Jesus, please... Please, God.\n\n CHARLIE\n ... and put them in your mouth.\n\n At a sharp look from Charlie, Del obediently stuffs the socks\n into his mouth and starts to cry. Wesley produces a roll of\n duct tape and fastens Del's hands to the back of his chair.\n\n\n\n 26 INT. BETTY'S", " GEORGE\n No! No problem, there is no...\n (to Betty, sotto)\n What is the problem? Just do that...\n thing... you do! Come on! You drove me\n nuts with this for three days, now do it!\n\n George steps back behind the cameras as if nothing's wrong.\n Betty still hasn't moved. She's shaking with fear. The cast\n and crew members find it hard to look at her.\n\n LY", "drive, and drive, and drive!\n\n BETTY\n Yeah, me too.\n\n SUE ANN\n Sorry, hon. Happy Birthday...\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go make dinner.\n\n Betty throws her a look as Sue Ann closes the door. Betty\n turns around, frustrated. She starts yanking her apron off\n as she crosses the street.\n\n\n\n 17 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DAY" ], [ "\n\n His friends watch as George studies her face.\n\n BETTY\n ...of course you do.\n (hurt)\n You don't remember me?\n\n GEORGE\n I take it I should. I'm sorry.\n\n BETTY\n We were engaged.\n\n LYLA\n Oh good, another one...\n\n George's friends look at each other. A few heads turn.\n\n GEORGE", "hesitates; Lyla sees it.\n\n GEORGE\n (to Betty)\n Right, uhh...I feel terrible about this,\n we have a prior engagement at another\n party.\n (BEAT)\n But... I'd be honored if you'd come.\n\n LYLA\n Yeah, bring your friend along. I'm sure\n you got a lot of catching up to do...\n\n\n Rosa watches, stunned, as Betty waves", "in this\n town. And she said that unlike the other\n charming, relentless people she knew, she\n liked me.\n\n 103.\n\n\n GEORGE\n She's a good person to know.\n (BEAT)\n So where did you study again?\n\n BETTY\n Carleton School of Nursing. Two\n semesters, but Del made me give it up...\n\n GEOR", "to him!\n You came fifteen hundred miles for this.\n\n Rosa prods her, then Betty makes her way unsteadily toward\n George. When she's a few feet away he looks up.\n\n He can't help but notice her - she's beautiful. She's also\n looking right into his eyes. The conversation stops as he\n does a double take in Betty's direction.\n\n 94.\n\n\n GEORGE\n Do I know you from...?", " CHARLIE\n No, just stand there... lemme look at you\n a minute.\n\n She does. Charlie stares intently at her.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do you know who I am?\n\n BETTY\n ... I... I know what you are.\n\n CHARLIE\n Do you know why I'm here?\n\n BETTY\n I've got a pretty good idea. You", "the lights low and SOFT\n MUSIC playing.\n\n GEORGE\n God, I haven't felt like this since I was\n with Stella Adler in New York. You're\n so...real.\n\n 113.\n\n\n He leans forward slowly to kiss her, but Betty pulls back.\n\n BETTY\n You never mentioned a 'Stella' to me.\n\n GEORGE\n Didn't I", ". I\n promise...\n\n GEORGE\n You know, I almost believe that... you're\n like a warm breeze that's suddenly blown\n into my life...\n (laughs)\n I said that to Leslie, once, at her\n funeral, remember?...\n\n BETTY\n I remember. You said it to her, but it\n was meant for me, wasn't it?\n\n GEORGE\n ", ".\n\n GEORGE\n Betty?\n\n CHLOE\n Are you all right?\n\n BLAKE\n (to Chloe)\n I think you stepped on my first line...\n\n CHLOE\n ... I was talking to her.\n (to Betty)\n Do you need anything...?\n\n She's freezing up. George approaches her.\n\n GEORGE\n Betty, I thought this", "as George!\n\n BETTY\n Oh, he does that.\n (hugging him)\n It's this silly game he plays. Half the\n people who know him call him George.\n\n\n\n 126 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 126\n\n GEORGE\n I don't think your friend likes me.\n\n BETTY\n She's a little jealous, I think. And", "... you're different.\n\n BETTY\n I am?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sure. You could probably have any thing\n you wanted... somebody as beautiful and\n stylish as yourself, and you don't even\n realize it.\n\n Betty looks curiously over at Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n I'm appreciably older than you, but my\n health is good. I take care of myself,\n and", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", "MEN.\n Several women approach George, some starry-eyed, for quick,\n polite greetings. He's doing his job of being a soap star.\n\n Rosa waits for an opening, then puts her hands on Betty's\n shoulders and points her at George.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n Look who's here!\n\n Betty's jaw drops. She freezes.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What are you waiting for? Talk", "\n confused when it comes to men...\n (BEAT)\n So where are we going?\n\n GEORGE\n Well, first I thought Patina, and then\n the Ivy, but then I thought of somewhere\n a little more romantic. Like my place.\n\n\n\n 127 INT. GEORGE'S HOUSE - NIGHT 127\n\n Modern glass and steel structure in the hills. Austere.\n Betty and George sit on the sofa with", "\n about you... I'm George McCord.\n\n ROSA\n Not as much as I've heard about you.\n She's a very nice girl and you better not\n hurt her.\n\n GEORGE\n What?\n\n Betty appears.\n\n BETTY\n Rosa, so you've met David?\n\n ROSA\n Sure did! And a funny thing, Betty, he\n introduced himself to me", "GE\n Alright, okay... I think you broke the\n record for staying in character about\n three hours ago.\n\n BETTY\n You told me that two hours ago.\n\n He pulls up in front of Rosa's apartment and parks.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n I haven't been this happy since I was\n twelve years old.\n\n GEORGE\n What happened when you were twelve?\n\n BETTY\n ", " GEORGE\n No! No problem, there is no...\n (to Betty, sotto)\n What is the problem? Just do that...\n thing... you do! Come on! You drove me\n nuts with this for three days, now do it!\n\n George steps back behind the cameras as if nothing's wrong.\n Betty still hasn't moved. She's shaking with fear. The cast\n and crew members find it hard to look at her.\n\n LY", "Yes... maybe it was.\n\n She kisses him deeply, then allows herself to fall back on\n the sofa, pulling George down on top of her and kissing him\n passionately.\n\n\n\n 128 INT. HOLLYWOOD MOTEL - THE NEXT DAY 128\n\n Wesley hands Charlie a newspaper folded open to the\n Entertainment section, where there is a picture of Betty\n slapping the actor Eric Augustino. George is in b.g.\n\n WESLEY\n ", " everything but George.\n\n BETTY\n I'm so sorry. Life makes us do awful\n things sometimes.\n\n She's ready to cry. Which only inspires him all the more.\n\n GEORGE\n I tried to tell myself it was for the\n best, that there was a reason behind it.\n But... Del?\n\n 97.\n\n\n BETTY\n There was no plan! I was just young and", "hitting Betty in the eye. She freezes, and Rosa bumps\n into her.\n\n ROSA\n Sorry.\n\n Betty stares at the car, unable to remember what it should\n mean. Then a MAN in a tuxedo gets out. Betty moves on.\n\n\n\n 111 INT. BEVERLY HILTON - LOBBY - EVENING 111\n\n A sign on an easel reads \"Save the Children.\" Betty and Rosa\n present their tickets", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George" ], [ " BETTY\n LISTEN TO ME! IF I DON'T DO THIS, HE'S\n DEAD!\n\n 70.\n\n\n She keeps working on him. We hear a GUNSHOT, and the kid\n with the pistol falls to the pavement. The loading area\n immediately fills with DOCTORS, NURSES and COPS.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n All right, we're moving him inside! Give\n ", "the gurney out of the ambulance herself. A\n PARAMEDIC lies unconscious inside.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n You gotta help him, he's hurt bad!!\n\n On the gurney is a YOUNG MAN with a chest wound, nearly dead\n from blood loss. A DOCTOR appears and quickly examines him\n while keeping one eye on the gunman. He looks up at Betty.\n\n DOCTOR #1\n Forget it! He doesn'", "d\n shoot you right now!\n\n The loading area is jammed with panicked people. Doctors and\n nurses creep out of the hospital on all fours, trying to stay\n\n 69.\n\n low. No one is getting to Rosa, whose frantic eyes find\n Betty. They look right at each other.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What are you standing there for?!\n\n Betty walks toward her calmly, indifferent to the danger as\n Rosa pulls", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "follows Betty out the door.\n\n\n\n 93 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 93\n\n Betty and Rosa make their way up the stairs of a Silverlake\n apartment house.\n\n At the sound of SCREECHING TIRES they both look down as a\n black Lincoln Town Car drives by. Betty shudders.\n\n ROSA\n You okay? This neighborhood, you get\n used to it...\n\n She nods. Rosa continues", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "t have a chance.\n Help us over here.\n\n The doctor takes off. Rosa looks at Betty, crying.\n\n ROSA\n Please!\n\n Betty hesitates, then checks his pulse - he has none. She\n peels back the bandages over a huge chest wound.\n\n ROSA (CONT'D)\n Danny, it's gonna be all right!\n\n Betty looks at Rosa again; looks around for help - there's no\n one. She", "3.\n\n\n BETTY\n Yes, ma'am.\n\n CHIEF NURSE\n Good. I'm prepared to offer you a job.\n You can help out in the pharmacy until\n your California certification and\n references arrive, but you are not to\n touch anyone. Is that totally clear?\n (Betty nods)\n Fine...\n\n The Chief Nurse gets up, and Betty follows suit.\n\n CHIEF N", "just--\n\n MOTHER\n Yo s que es su empleo, pero...\n\n ROSA\n She doesn't care if it was just your\n job... Danny would be dead now but for\n you.\n\n Sra. Herrera kisses Betty's hands and smiles through her\n tears. Then she motions to Rosa to take her place as she\n goes to Danny's bedside. Betty picks up Danny's chart and\n reads it.\n\n ", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "eyes. Suddenly, she jumps inside the\n Chevrolet and slams the door.\n\n\n\n 11 EXT. SIZEMORE MOTORS/TRAILER PARK - DAY 11\n\n The blue Corsica leaves the parking lot and pulls onto the\n street. The car makes an abrupt turn into a trailer park\n directly behind the car lot and glides to a halt behind a row\n of battered airstreams.\n\n Betty gets outs of the Chevy and looks back: the handsome", "\n 83 INT. BETTY'S LESABRE/ EXT. COUNTY USC HOSPITAL - MOVING -83\n AFTERNOON\n\n Betty drives through Boyle Heights - East L.A., holding a map\n and checking street signs. She is wearing a brand new\n Nurse's uniform. Up ahead, she sees the hillside complex of\n L.A. County/USC Hospital. Hurriedly, she pulls over and\n checks herself in the visor mirror. She", "\n her.\n\n\n\n 58 INT. BETTY'S LESABRE - MOVING - DAY 58\n\n Betty crosses the border from Texas into New Mexico. She\n grips the wheel intently, driving for all she's worth.\n\n\n\n 59 OMIT 59\n\n\n\n 60 EXT. FAIR OAKS TRAILER PARK - LATE AFTERNOON 60\n\n Betty's blue Corsica sits", "INT. CHEAP HOTEL - NIGHT 89\n\n SEVERAL LOW LIFES are hanging out in the lobby. When Betty\n comes in with a bag of groceries they look up, ready to\n hassle her as she approaches the DESK CLERK.\n\n BETTY\n May I have my key, please?\n\n She puts the bag on the counter, revealing that the front of\n her white uniform is covered with blood. She smiles at the\n low lifes, stopping them in", ")\n GET IN THE CAR!\n\n Wesley is in the car, but he's too scared to tell Charlie,\n whose eyes are blazing. Charlie silently walks around to the\n driver's side and gets in. He and Wesley stare at each other\n over a photo of Betty, which is between them on the dash.\n Charlie starts the engine and snatches up the picture.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n What're you thinking, girl? What's going\n ", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "surrounded by yellow police tape.\n Half a dozen COPS mill around. To one side are several\n REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS, Roy included. A FEW RESIDENTS\n mill around in the background.\n\n A stack of pictures of Betty sit on a makeshift table.\n\n REPORTER #1\n Who witnessed Ms. Sizemore driving here?\n\n BALLARD\n The Assistant Manager, Mr. Wylie.\n\n REPORTER #2\n", "NEIGHBORHOOD - LATER 15\n\n Betty enters a modest residential neighborhood and pulls into\n a driveway. She parks in a detached garage and looks over at\n the cardboard David. There's no way he's going in the house.\n She puts him in the trunk and closes the garage door.\n\n\n\n 16 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - SAME TIME 16\n\n She walks several houses down. On her way to the door we\n hear", " CHARLIE\n We'll do what we can. Where is she?\n\n ROSA\n Bet-ty!\n (to the men)\n Please, go easy on her. She's had a\n really rough day.\n\n Betty appears. She recognizes the men instantly and freezes.\n Charlie's eyes wander over her... slowly. Wesley notices.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n These guys are here to help you, Bet" ], [ "herself onto Wesley's back, knocking him to the floor.\n Ballard paws through the muck, scattering fish and gravel\n everywhere. He spots a glint of metal in the sand.\n\n Wesley struggles out from under Rosa. Just as he gets free,\n Ballard FIRES, hitting him TWICE into his chest. Wesley\n stares in disbelief at the blood rushing out of him. Then at\n Ballard, as if trying to link the two.\n\n He slumps to the floor and opens his mouth to", "FFLED SCREAMS as he plows headlong into wooden paneling, a\n china cabinet, and finally, back toward them near the\n breakfast counter. Del bashes blindly into it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n (to Wesley)\n What the fuck is the matter with you?!\n\n Wesley is practically foaming at the mouth, still rushing on\n what he did. Charlie draws a silenced pistol and mercifully\n SHOOTS Del through the head. The big man", " Wesley's head. Wesley looks at it and keeps on driving.\n\n Charlie knows this isn't the way to handle it. He lowers the\n pistol.\n\n CHARLIE\n If you don't take the next turn for the\n canyon, I'm blowing my goddamn brains all\n over this car.\n\n He puts the pistol in his mouth and cocks it. Wesley looks\n over, not so sure this time.\n\n LONG SHOT of the black", "kill someone. That's not our\n Betty...\n\n WESLEY\n (defensive)\n ... why do you think you have to be\n missing a piece of your soul to kill\n somebody?\n\n JERROLD\n Because it ain't natural, young man.\n\n WESLEY\n What are you talking about? Killing's\n totally natural. It's dying that isn't\n natural...\n\n ", "scream ...\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n D-A-A-A-D-D-D-Y-Y-!!!!\n\n Charlie opens the bedroom door.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley??!\n\n Charlie sees Wesley turn to him as Ballard FIRES again.\n Wesley's face explodes. The flying lead drives Charlie back\n to the bedroom.\n\n Crawling through the muck, Roy notices a fish flopping\n helplessly on the carpet", "LEY\n IT SURE IS!!\n\n And with a long SCREAM, Wesley rips Del's scalp from his\n head. It makes a sickening sound like fabric tearing. For a\n long moment, there is only silence. An eerie silence.\n\n Suddenly, Del SCREAMS into his socks and thrashes in his\n seat, blood pouring down his head on all sides.\n\n Somehow, he manages to get to his feet, the chair still taped\n to him, and begins smashing", "\n Joyce GIGGLES as Wesley stops moving.\n\n WESLEY\n Did you say LeSabre?\n\n JOYCE\n Look, she didn't kill Del over no car if\n that's what you're thinking.\n\n WESLEY\n But she could have taken one, right?\n\n With her knees, Joyce prods him into humping her again.\n\n JOYCE\n Maybe, but I don't think", "into whatever is near. Blood\n flies and curios shatter as Del thunders through the room. A\n dying bull, only messier. It's quite a show.\n\n CHARLIE\n JESUS CHRIST!!!\n\n Wesley steps back, staring at the dripping scalp in his hand,\n as if wondering how it got there. Betty is transfixed,\n horrified.\n\n Charlie re-enters. The two men look at each other over Del's\n MU", "'t go down. They begin\n a torturous second lap around the table, punctuated by the\n CLANG of the scoop against Merle's head.\n\n CHARLIE\n What's your name, dear?\n\n ELLEN\n Ellen.\n\n CHARLIE\n That's a nice name.\n\n After one more CLANGING shot Merle staggers, then falls.\n Wesley walks over to Charlie and Ellen, drawing his knife.\n\n ", "that woman before, and\n neither has Merle. He drinks too much.\n And don't try to tell me you're cops. I\n\n 102.\n\n was married to a cop for nine years, and\n you're not cops. Now get out of here.\n\n Wesley steps behind Merle, takes a handful of his hair and\n SLAMS his head into the popcorn machine on the bar. Merle\n staggers away, stunned. Wesley rem", "it's in the Buick.\n\n CHARLIE\n We don't know which Buick, do we?\n\n WESLEY\n Well, why'd you shoot him?\n\n CHARLIE\n I had to shoot him! It was the only\n decent thing to do.\n\n They exit the house.\n\n CHARLIE (O.S.) (cont'd)\n This is very unprofessional, Wesley.\n\n", "\n Duane nods.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Del's dead, by the way. I sent him to\n the Great Beyond.\n\n WESLEY\n Actually, I scalped him, and then you\n killed him.\n\n Duane narrows his eyes in disbelief.\n\n CHARLIE\n Exactly.\n (BEAT)\n Now, the one thing I don't get is that we\n ", "puts his hand over her mouth.\n\n Wesley tapes Roy's hands together, then beckons to Ballard.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Your turn.\n\n Ballard drops to his knees in a prayer-like position near the\n aquarium.\n\n BALLARD\n I got two kids and a dog...\n\n Wesley grabs his shirtfront and slams him to the floor, then\n with a foot on his neck, he loops Ballard's arms around one\n ", " CHARLIE\n That was to get him to talk!\n (BEAT)\n Get rid of that thing, will you?\n\n Wesley crosses to the garbage can, steps on the lever. He\n looks at the scalp one more time before dropping it in.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n This is great - just great! Now we don't\n know where the goddamn stuff is.\n\n WESLEY\n He told us", "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of", "still, Del, we're just talking\n here...\n (pointing to a spot)\n Then you grab a big handful of hair and\n pull as you cut. It's amazing how easily\n the scalp comes off.\n\n WESLEY\n A mark, huh?\n\n Wesley takes a jab at Del's forehead with his knife, leaving\n a small cut.\n\n Del starts twitching, rocking back and forth as Wesley grabs\n a fistful of", "peeks over his shoulder.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n What in the...\n (simmering)\n What the hell is this? You've been\n holding out on me. All this fucking\n time!\n\n CHARLIE\n It just didn't fit her profile...\n\n WESLEY\n Fuck the profile! That's the same guy!!\n\n CHARLIE\n She can't be", "ESLEY\n I'm sick of looking at her mother-fucking\n face.\n\n A beat... they walk for a moment.\n\n 83.\n\n\n CHARLIE\n Don't talk like that. She's my last one,\n Wesley, my final target.\n (to photo)\n Don't you realize your special, that you\n represent something?\n\n This is too much. Wesley explodes.\n\n ", "(CONT'D)\n It's pretty simple, too.\n (BEAT)\n\n 27.\n\n First you take a knife and just draw a\n mark right across the hairline.\n\n Wesley produces a long knife and traces a line across the\n very top of Del's forehead. Trickles of blood wind their way\n down his brow. Del is MOANING and PANTING through his socks.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Hold", "on David's shocked expression ... MUSIC UP AS\n\n DEL (O.S.)\n PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!\n\n Betty's not sure what Del said, but the panic in his voice\n got through. She hits PAUSE and takes a look.\n\n\n\n 29 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 29\n\n Del is facing her, tiny rivulets of blood running into his\n terrified eyes. Wesley stands" ], [ "to Love\" are playing.\n Betty pushes the phone back across the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n Where you headed, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Los Angeles, California.\n\n ELLEN\n And you called your friend, and she's\n telling you not to go?\n (Betty nods)\n When I went to Europe my friends told me\n I was crazy.\n\n 57.\n\n\n B", " CHARLIE\n What difference does it make? She wasn't\n in Kansas City, or Houston, or Dallas. We\n\n 92.\n\n went to every goddamn place Del mentioned\n and no Betty. So what the hell makes you\n think she's in Vegas? You think she's\n waiting for us with tassles on her\n titties? Vegas is too crass for Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", "LIZABETH\n Betty was a lovely child.\n\n JERROLD\n And she always had such spirit! But,\n after her mother died...\n\n WESLEY\n Would you say she was ambitious?\n\n JERROLD\n Oh, there's no tellin' what that girl\n could've accomplished, and she never had\n it easy. Never really had a childhood...\n caring for her father, going to school.\n\n Charlie", " These\n heartlanders can't figure it out, 'cause\n that's not their sweet little Betty.\n Hah! We've been tracking her for, what,\n three days and I already understand her\n better'n most the people in that shitty\n little burg.\n\n Charlie pulls out the close-up photo and studies it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Betty, Betty, Betty...\n\n WESLEY\n", "in this\n town. And she said that unlike the other\n charming, relentless people she knew, she\n liked me.\n\n 103.\n\n\n GEORGE\n She's a good person to know.\n (BEAT)\n So where did you study again?\n\n BETTY\n Carleton School of Nursing. Two\n semesters, but Del made me give it up...\n\n GEOR", "\n her.\n\n\n\n 58 INT. BETTY'S LESABRE - MOVING - DAY 58\n\n Betty crosses the border from Texas into New Mexico. She\n grips the wheel intently, driving for all she's worth.\n\n\n\n 59 OMIT 59\n\n\n\n 60 EXT. FAIR OAKS TRAILER PARK - LATE AFTERNOON 60\n\n Betty's blue Corsica sits", " BETTY\n Do you have a phone?\n\n Ellen swings a phone up onto the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n If it's long distance you can leave me a\n buck when you're done.\n\n Betty dials ...\n\n 55.\n\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann? It's Betty. I just wanted to\n let you know I'm okay ... Huh? I'm at\n the C", "m.p.h.\n ... 85 ... 90 m.p.h. She turns the radio up louder.\n\n When she approaches a sign saying \"You are leaving Kansas\"\n Betty suddenly becomes self-conscious. She eases up on the\n gas ... slows down ... does a U-turn and heads back toward\n Fair Oaks. She glances wistfully in her rear view mirror at\n the billboard that quickly fades into the distance.\n\n\n\n 15 EXT. BETTY'S", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", "3.\n\n\n BETTY\n Yes, ma'am.\n\n CHIEF NURSE\n Good. I'm prepared to offer you a job.\n You can help out in the pharmacy until\n your California certification and\n references arrive, but you are not to\n touch anyone. Is that totally clear?\n (Betty nods)\n Fine...\n\n The Chief Nurse gets up, and Betty follows suit.\n\n CHIEF N", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", " 17\n\n A low-end ranch. A worn-out sofa and loveseat form an 'L'\n that dominates the living room. Romance novels line a small\n bookcase. SIX CANARIES in cages chatter away in the kitchen.\n\n Del sits at the dining room table, agitated. He is presently\n attacking a pork chop, baked beans and a loaf of Wonderbread.\n All we hear is A FORK CLICKING and BIRDS CHIRPING. Betty\n", "eyes. Suddenly, she jumps inside the\n Chevrolet and slams the door.\n\n\n\n 11 EXT. SIZEMORE MOTORS/TRAILER PARK - DAY 11\n\n The blue Corsica leaves the parking lot and pulls onto the\n street. The car makes an abrupt turn into a trailer park\n directly behind the car lot and glides to a halt behind a row\n of battered airstreams.\n\n Betty gets outs of the Chevy and looks back: the handsome", " ROSA (cont'd)\n You don't sound like you're from here.\n\n BETTY\n I'm not. I just drove in from Kansas.\n\n ROSA\n So why'd you come to L.A.?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love. My fianc is here.\n\n MOTHER\n Bravo! Mi hija no hace nada para amor...\n\n ROS", " BETTY\n It's your body...\n\n Betty turns back to change pots. The older man watches her\n intently as the younger of the two mumbles to himself.\n\n YOUNGER MAN\n (to himself)\n That's right, so why don't you get up off\n it...\n\n OLDER MAN\n Wesley...\n (to Betty)\n I've told him the same thing. Thanks for\n ", "\n What the hell are you doing here?\n\n It's Del. He's in a pastel version of his usual shirt,\n slacks, and tie.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Well, are you gonna answer me? What'd\n you come here for?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love...\n\n DEL\n You're not on that soap opera thing\n again, are you? 'Cause you know what\n " ], [ " but a soap opera groupie, aren't you?\n YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO! DO YOU??\n Well, why don't you get a fucking life,\n and stop ruining mine!\n\n Betty stands dead still as George continues to berate her.\n ALL SOUND slowly starts to drop out, then comes back abruptly\n with a RUSH. Suddenly a light snaps on for her and she\n stares at him.\n\n BETTY\n I'm sorry...", " two battered, fuzzy TV sets.\n BETTY SIZEMORE, 30, has a wholesome attractiveness that\n competes with a bit too much makeup and a cheesy white\n waitress uniform. TWO OTHER WAITRESSES attend to customers\n behind her.\n The younger of the two guys is involved in the soap opera.\n But the older one, still wants coffee. He gestures toward\n Betty.\n\n OLDER MAN\n Miss?\n\n Betty leans", " BALLARD\n No reason to get a plate dirty.\n\n ROY\n I see you're sticking to the diet Betty\n put you on...\n\n BALLARD\n Worry about your own goddamn lunch!\n\n ROY\n (excited; to Sue Ann)\n Tell him what you told me.\n\n 63.\n\n\n SUE ANN\n Betty is a big, big fan of the soap", "MEN.\n Several women approach George, some starry-eyed, for quick,\n polite greetings. He's doing his job of being a soap star.\n\n Rosa waits for an opening, then puts her hands on Betty's\n shoulders and points her at George.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n Look who's here!\n\n Betty's jaw drops. She freezes.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What are you waiting for? Talk", "Did... did you really come here because\n you love this guy?\n\n BETTY\n Yes... Not the actor, though, the doctor.\n I think.\n\n Charlie's sinks slowly to the floor.\n\n CHARLIE\n So all this...really was because of that\n soap opera? My son is dead because you\n came out here to be with that doctor? A\n fake doctor?\n\n BETTY\n I wouldn't have", "\n What the hell are you doing here?\n\n It's Del. He's in a pastel version of his usual shirt,\n slacks, and tie.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Well, are you gonna answer me? What'd\n you come here for?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love...\n\n DEL\n You're not on that soap opera thing\n again, are you? 'Cause you know what\n ", "ANOTHER DAY 107\n\n Mercedes Lopez arrives at the office and stops at Rosa's\n desk.\n\n (The entire scene is in Spanish)\n\n MERCEDES\n Hey... Is Betty still trying to find that\n soap opera guy?\n\n ROSA\n Oh, yeah... Man, I'd love to find that\n actor just to see the look on her face,\n watch her bubble burst in mid-air.\n\n Mercedes hands her two", "BETTY\n Dr. David Ravell.\n\n ELLEN\n You mean... George McCord, the actor?\n\n BETTY\n No, I mean David Ravell. He's a surgeon.\n\n Ellen looks at Betty.\n\n ELLEN\n Yeah, I know, we just watched him\n together, remember? Up there on the TV.\n (off Betty's earnest look)\n Good God Almighty ... You're", "\n opera, \"A Reason to Love.\" Look...\n\n She tosses a copy of \"Soap Opera Digest\" on the desk. Ballard\n ignores it and keeps eating.\n\n BALLARD\n Why do I need to see this? Did he ask\n you to...?\n\n ROY\n Listen! I saw 'Chloe' and 'Lonnie' on\n T.V. They're television characters.\n\n SUE ANN\n Bet", "here because of a... a soap\n opera. Not a soap opera. That'd make\n her...\n\n WESLEY\n ... crazy! No shit, Shaft!! And you\n ain't far behind...\n\n CHARLIE\n ... but she's, no, Betty's smarter than\n that. She wouldn't be here for a...\n\n WESLEY\n I do not know how the fuck you lasted an\n ", ". Del plucks a copy of Soap Opera Guide\n from Betty's purse while absently taking a bite from Betty's\n cupcake. He narrowly misses the candle.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Jesus... you know these actors are mainly\n models, which are mainly fags. They've\n done studies. The rest're assholes. But\n you know what bugs me most about these\n soaps?\n\n She silently mimics him as he", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", " You're learning. But let\n me tell you why I know she was lying.\n (BEAT)\n First off, Betty would never fall for a\n soap star. It's beneath her.\n\n WESLEY\n I dunno, that lady sounded pretty sure...\n\n CHARLIE\n No, no, Betty came here strictly for\n business, 'cause it's the biggest market\n for what she's selling. I should have\n", " Could I get some service here, please?\n\n Without looking, the waiter approaches, tops off her cup and\n moves back to watching the show. Betty smiles knowingly at\n this, takes a sip and settles back in her seat. Slowly, the\n world passes by.\n\n POSTSCRIPT:\n Betty Sizemore appeared in 63 episodes of \"A\n Reason to Love.\" She is using her earnings to pay\n for a nursing degree and is currently on vacation in\n ", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "off.\n Betty checks her monitors as the opening credits of \"A Reason\n to Love\" begin to play.\n\n She glances up at the doorway at the same moment and sees Dr.\n David Ravell standing at the entrance. He checks the chart\n on the door, smiles warmly at Betty and then moves off. In a\n flash, Betty is up and after him.\n\n The THEME MUSIC is her private soundtrack as she checks out\n every man in surgical scrubs, looking for David Ravell.\n", "\n 122.\n\n\n CHARLIE\n How do you do, Mr. McCord. We're trying\n to locate a deranged fan of yours,... a\n Ms. Betty...\n\n GEORGE\n Deranged. That would be the right word.\n\n Wesley takes out the photo of Betty.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n That won't be necessary. She's staying\n ", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", " BETTY\n It's your body...\n\n Betty turns back to change pots. The older man watches her\n intently as the younger of the two mumbles to himself.\n\n YOUNGER MAN\n (to himself)\n That's right, so why don't you get up off\n it...\n\n OLDER MAN\n Wesley...\n (to Betty)\n I've told him the same thing. Thanks for\n " ], [ "\n What the hell are you doing here?\n\n It's Del. He's in a pastel version of his usual shirt,\n slacks, and tie.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Well, are you gonna answer me? What'd\n you come here for?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love...\n\n DEL\n You're not on that soap opera thing\n again, are you? 'Cause you know what\n ", "DEL (cont'd)\n Daddy's here, babies... daddy's here.\n (to Betty)\n Be back later... clean up.\n\n He exits. She collects his dirty dishes, puts them in the\n sink and starts to wash them. Then she stops.\n\n BETTY\n What the hell am I doing?\n\n She drops the dishes with a clatter, pours herself a glass of\n wine, lights the candle on her deflowered cupcake and opens\n", "at his shoulder, still holding\n a handful of his hair, still poised with the knife.\n\n DEL\n I got it from a truck driver named Duane\n Cooley, out of Amarillo. He brings my\n cars down from Detroit. But I haven't\n touched it, I swear to you... Please!\n Please! Please!\n\n Annoyed, Charlie stuffs the socks back in Del's mouth.\n\n Betty stares. Her gaze shifts from Del to Wes", "V.O.)\n Hi Del, it's me. I guess you're busy.\n\n\n\n 8 INT. SIZEMORE MOTORS - TRAILER/OFFICE - DAY 8\n\n Del's very busy. He's on the rented sofa in the trailer's\n lounge, screwing his secretary, JOYCE. But as he rocks the\n couch, he's listening to Betty's message.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I", "Del was one hot salesman.\n Of cars. He could talk anyone into\n anything.\n\n BETTY\n You knew Del?!\n\n GEORGE\n Honey, I didn't want to tell you at the\n time, but Del and I go way back. We went\n to school together. In fact, he saved my\n life. Two more minutes in that icy water\n and I would have drowned. But Del jumped\n in and grabbed", "Del and me,\n didn't it?\n\n SUE ANN\n Yeah, hon. Real bad. You just get some\n sleep, everything's gonna be fine.\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann, I'm sorry about all this, but I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me...\n\n Sue Ann looks down at her friend, troubled. She strokes\n Betty's hair gently and kisses her. After she leaves, Bet", "\n\n Wesley is 28. He's in jeans, T-shirt and white Reeboks. Clean\n cut; the kid who used to mow your parents' lawn.\n\n Betty quickly snaps out the light and closes the door until\n it is open only a crack.\n\n\n\n 22 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - NIGHT 22\n\n Del swaggers into the house. The two men follow politely.\n\n DEL\n ... you can have the best damn", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", " 17\n\n A low-end ranch. A worn-out sofa and loveseat form an 'L'\n that dominates the living room. Romance novels line a small\n bookcase. SIX CANARIES in cages chatter away in the kitchen.\n\n Del sits at the dining room table, agitated. He is presently\n attacking a pork chop, baked beans and a loaf of Wonderbread.\n All we hear is A FORK CLICKING and BIRDS CHIRPING. Betty\n", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", ". Then back\n at his face, now obscured by blood pouring down from his\n head.\n She stares, horrified, and in that moment Del becomes... a\n MAN, staring back at her as he wipes the sweat from his brow.\n\n MAN\n Who are you talking to? Are you crazy?\n\n Betty backs away and melts into the flow of PEDESTRIANS.\n\n\n\n 135 INT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - LATER ", "says\n you've got money comin' to you from Del's\n policy.\n (BEAT)\n Del's life insurance policy-- Are you\n with me?\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n What are you talking about?\n\n\n\n 70 INT. CANYON RANCH BAR - DAY 70\n\n \"A REASON TO LOVE\" comes back on the TV.\n\n BETTY\n Tell Del I'", "The\n phone cord is stretched across the trailer as he tries to get\n back to Joyce. He motions for her to join him but she\n remains where she is, fuming.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I don't need one, but it's kind of a\n special night, and--\n\n DEL\n What's so special about it?\n\n LONG PAUSE. Joyce looks at Del, incredulous. Then pissed off.\n He signals to hold", "says...\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n BETTY\n Yeah, I guess there's nothing like\n watching those tenpins fall, huh, Del?\n\n DEL\n That is a skill!\n\n Del lurches to his feet and crosses to the bird cages as the\n canaries CHIRP and SING EXCITEDLY at his approach.\n\n ", "m sorry. I left so quick, but\n I need to do this.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Do what?\n\n 56.\n\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Betty! Listen to me! Del is ...\n\n Betty hangs up.\n\n\n\n 71 INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT (ON TV SCRE", ", too. He sold me\n a lemon.\n\n LYLA\n Really? I put a hundred and thirty\n thousand miles on mine.\n\n BETTY\n Huh. I had no idea our little lot was so\n popular...\n\n FRIEND #1\n I never bought a car from Del. But I\n loved him. In my own way.\n\n GEORGE\n I guess we all did. (to Betty) You", "!\n\n BETTY\n Why are you calling him George?\n\n 96.\n\n\n FRIEND #2\n Yeah - David - tell us about this car\n salesman.\n\n George likes the challenge. This party isn't so boring after\n all.\n\n GEORGE\n Oh, you mean Fred.\n\n BETTY\n No, Del.\n\n GEORGE\n Right, Del. ", " Roy! What are you doing here?\n\n ROY\n You're in serious danger!\n\n BETTY\n Ahh, look, right now's not very...\n\n ROY\n I woulda' been here sooner, but Ballard\n put me in jail. He still thinks you had\n Del scalped.\n\n BALLARD\n I never said that! Open the door, Betty.\n\n BALLARD shoves Roy aside;", "\n dreams left... you're a goddamn waitress,\n what do you got?\n\n BETTY\n I got you, Del...\n\n DEL\n ... well, then you ain't got much.\n\n BETTY\n Oh, I know.\n (BEAT)\n So, who're these clients?\n\n DEL\n Couple 'a guys in from outta town. They\n want to see the new Le", "EL\n If you ate at the Tip Top you did.\n\n CHARLIE\n Oh, yes, with the coffee...\n\n DEL\n Yep, Betty pours a pretty mean cup.\n\n Del reaches into the fridge and produces a Miller for Wesley,\n then mixes two drinks and walks into the dining room and\n Charlie and Wesley follow to the table and sit down.\n\n CHARLIE\n I like this. I like doing business in\n the home" ], [ "V.O.)\n Hi Del, it's me. I guess you're busy.\n\n\n\n 8 INT. SIZEMORE MOTORS - TRAILER/OFFICE - DAY 8\n\n Del's very busy. He's on the rented sofa in the trailer's\n lounge, screwing his secretary, JOYCE. But as he rocks the\n couch, he's listening to Betty's message.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I", "DEL (cont'd)\n Daddy's here, babies... daddy's here.\n (to Betty)\n Be back later... clean up.\n\n He exits. She collects his dirty dishes, puts them in the\n sink and starts to wash them. Then she stops.\n\n BETTY\n What the hell am I doing?\n\n She drops the dishes with a clatter, pours herself a glass of\n wine, lights the candle on her deflowered cupcake and opens\n", "away.\n\n\n\n 75 INT. LINCOLN TOWN CAR - KANSAS - MOVING - NIGHT 75\n\n Charlie and Wesley drive across Kansas farm country.\n\n CHARLIE\n So she gets rid of the asshole and is set\n for life in the same day.\n\n WESLEY\n You think so? Joyce says she's timid.\n\n CHARLIE\n Joyce was screwing Del.\n\n ", "at his shoulder, still holding\n a handful of his hair, still poised with the knife.\n\n DEL\n I got it from a truck driver named Duane\n Cooley, out of Amarillo. He brings my\n cars down from Detroit. But I haven't\n touched it, I swear to you... Please!\n Please! Please!\n\n Annoyed, Charlie stuffs the socks back in Del's mouth.\n\n Betty stares. Her gaze shifts from Del to Wes", " WESLEY\n ... among others.\n\n CHARLIE\n I'd say that about torches her\n credibility, wouldn't you?\n\n WESLEY\n Yeah, well, if the wife's trying to sell\n it she'll fuck up. She's an amateur,\n just like Del was.\n\n The CAR PHONE RINGS. Charlie answers.\n\n 61.\n\n\n CHARLI", " 17\n\n A low-end ranch. A worn-out sofa and loveseat form an 'L'\n that dominates the living room. Romance novels line a small\n bookcase. SIX CANARIES in cages chatter away in the kitchen.\n\n Del sits at the dining room table, agitated. He is presently\n attacking a pork chop, baked beans and a loaf of Wonderbread.\n All we hear is A FORK CLICKING and BIRDS CHIRPING. Betty\n", " BALLARD\n I questioned Joyce about all this...\n\n ROY\n Yeah?\n\n BALLARD\n Seems she was pretty familiar with 'ol\n Del. On a regular basis, if you get my\n drift...\n\n ROY\n ... and half the other guys in this town.\n Including you, I believe...\n\n BALLARD\n Junior year!\n\n ROY\n Anyway, so what?\n\n ", "Del and me,\n didn't it?\n\n SUE ANN\n Yeah, hon. Real bad. You just get some\n sleep, everything's gonna be fine.\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann, I'm sorry about all this, but I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me...\n\n Sue Ann looks down at her friend, troubled. She strokes\n Betty's hair gently and kisses her. After she leaves, Bet", "\n What the hell are you doing here?\n\n It's Del. He's in a pastel version of his usual shirt,\n slacks, and tie.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Well, are you gonna answer me? What'd\n you come here for?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love...\n\n DEL\n You're not on that soap opera thing\n again, are you? 'Cause you know what\n ", "So, at a rest stop outside Logansport\n you noticed that two guys were slipping\n something extra in one of your cars, and\n you decided to see what it was. Then you\n figured you'd take this valuable\n commodity and go into business yourself,\n even though it didn't belong to you. But\n you needed a crackerjack salesman to move\n it, so you made the biggest mistake of\n your short life and chose Del. Sound\n right so far?\n", "says...\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n BETTY\n Yeah, I guess there's nothing like\n watching those tenpins fall, huh, Del?\n\n DEL\n That is a skill!\n\n Del lurches to his feet and crosses to the bird cages as the\n canaries CHIRP and SING EXCITEDLY at his approach.\n\n ", "Del was one hot salesman.\n Of cars. He could talk anyone into\n anything.\n\n BETTY\n You knew Del?!\n\n GEORGE\n Honey, I didn't want to tell you at the\n time, but Del and I go way back. We went\n to school together. In fact, he saved my\n life. Two more minutes in that icy water\n and I would have drowned. But Del jumped\n in and grabbed", "The\n phone cord is stretched across the trailer as he tries to get\n back to Joyce. He motions for her to join him but she\n remains where she is, fuming.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I don't need one, but it's kind of a\n special night, and--\n\n DEL\n What's so special about it?\n\n LONG PAUSE. Joyce looks at Del, incredulous. Then pissed off.\n He signals to hold", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", " No, no! Well, see, she was having an\n affair with a Russian diplomat who I\n believe was mixed up with the Mafia...\n\n 81.\n\n\n ROSA\n Jesus, I thought my love life was\n crazy...\n\n LATER\n\n Rosa and Betty are sitting in a booth, talking over drinks.\n The place is a little quieter now.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n ... so, we'll", "says\n you've got money comin' to you from Del's\n policy.\n (BEAT)\n Del's life insurance policy-- Are you\n with me?\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n What are you talking about?\n\n\n\n 70 INT. CANYON RANCH BAR - DAY 70\n\n \"A REASON TO LOVE\" comes back on the TV.\n\n BETTY\n Tell Del I'", "\n Joyce GIGGLES as Wesley stops moving.\n\n WESLEY\n Did you say LeSabre?\n\n JOYCE\n Look, she didn't kill Del over no car if\n that's what you're thinking.\n\n WESLEY\n But she could have taken one, right?\n\n With her knees, Joyce prods him into humping her again.\n\n JOYCE\n Maybe, but I don't think", "His\n hair is uncombed and his clothes are wrinkled. His eyes have\n a thousand-yard stare.\n\n 84.\n\n\n WESLEY (O.S.)\n (CONT'D)\n Sounds like she's with the buyer Del\n lined up.\n\n Charlie pulls himself up on the door and looks down.\n\n CHARLIE\n How'd they describe her?\n\n WESLEY\n You know,", ", too. He sold me\n a lemon.\n\n LYLA\n Really? I put a hundred and thirty\n thousand miles on mine.\n\n BETTY\n Huh. I had no idea our little lot was so\n popular...\n\n FRIEND #1\n I never bought a car from Del. But I\n loved him. In my own way.\n\n GEORGE\n I guess we all did. (to Betty) You", "she wanted more out of life, right?\n\n DARLENE\n No... she just wanted something outta\n life. Anything. And with Del, she\n wasn't getting nothing. That's her\n husband, Del. I'm sorry about what\n happened and all, but that's the way I\n feel about all of this...\n\n CHARLIE\n I see.\n (holding up photos)\n May I?\n\n " ], [ "So, at a rest stop outside Logansport\n you noticed that two guys were slipping\n something extra in one of your cars, and\n you decided to see what it was. Then you\n figured you'd take this valuable\n commodity and go into business yourself,\n even though it didn't belong to you. But\n you needed a crackerjack salesman to move\n it, so you made the biggest mistake of\n your short life and chose Del. Sound\n right so far?\n", " Del nods; crying, sweating.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Good. Now we're getting somewhere. You\n agree that you were stupid?\n\n Del nods again. Wesley collects Charlie's glass and mixes\n him another drink. He gets a beer for himself and stands\n behind Del. Charlie sips his drink slowly, savoring it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n You know, a hundred and fifty years ago\n", " The men have retired into the dining room, sitting or\n standing around a worn wooded table. Charlie and Wesley are\n just finishing their drinks.\n\n DEL\n All right gentlemen, let's get down to\n it. I need to know if you're for real.\n\n CHARLIE\n If we're for real?\n\n DEL\n You don't exactly look like drug dealers.\n\n WESLEY\n Isn't", "at his shoulder, still holding\n a handful of his hair, still poised with the knife.\n\n DEL\n I got it from a truck driver named Duane\n Cooley, out of Amarillo. He brings my\n cars down from Detroit. But I haven't\n touched it, I swear to you... Please!\n Please! Please!\n\n Annoyed, Charlie stuffs the socks back in Del's mouth.\n\n Betty stares. Her gaze shifts from Del to Wes", " WESLEY\n ... among others.\n\n CHARLIE\n I'd say that about torches her\n credibility, wouldn't you?\n\n WESLEY\n Yeah, well, if the wife's trying to sell\n it she'll fuck up. She's an amateur,\n just like Del was.\n\n The CAR PHONE RINGS. Charlie answers.\n\n 61.\n\n\n CHARLI", "any better.\n\n CHARLIE\n That's what I thought.\n (to Del)\n You better give me another example.\n\n DEL\n This is bullshit, can we get down to\n business here, please?\n\n Off a look from Charlie, Wesley produces a pistol and gently\n nudges the barrel into Del's ear.\n\n DEL (CONT'D)\n Jesus Christ!\n\n WESLEY\n He's", "Del was one hot salesman.\n Of cars. He could talk anyone into\n anything.\n\n BETTY\n You knew Del?!\n\n GEORGE\n Honey, I didn't want to tell you at the\n time, but Del and I go way back. We went\n to school together. In fact, he saved my\n life. Two more minutes in that icy water\n and I would have drowned. But Del jumped\n in and grabbed", "says...\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n BETTY\n Yeah, I guess there's nothing like\n watching those tenpins fall, huh, Del?\n\n DEL\n That is a skill!\n\n Del lurches to his feet and crosses to the bird cages as the\n canaries CHIRP and SING EXCITEDLY at his approach.\n\n ", "on the floor of the\n trunk as Charlie joins him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n It's all here. It hasn't been touched.\n\n The bottom of the trunk is lined with brown paper-wrapped\n bricks of cocaine. Charlie stares at it, shaking his head.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n You were right. Del wasn't lying.\n\n CHARLIE\n Well, you were right about what that", "on David's shocked expression ... MUSIC UP AS\n\n DEL (O.S.)\n PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!\n\n Betty's not sure what Del said, but the panic in his voice\n got through. She hits PAUSE and takes a look.\n\n\n\n 29 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 29\n\n Del is facing her, tiny rivulets of blood running into his\n terrified eyes. Wesley stands", " 17\n\n A low-end ranch. A worn-out sofa and loveseat form an 'L'\n that dominates the living room. Romance novels line a small\n bookcase. SIX CANARIES in cages chatter away in the kitchen.\n\n Del sits at the dining room table, agitated. He is presently\n attacking a pork chop, baked beans and a loaf of Wonderbread.\n All we hear is A FORK CLICKING and BIRDS CHIRPING. Betty\n", "his hair.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Shut the fuck up! I bleed more than that\n when I shave...\n\n Del stops moving. He breathes furiously through his nostrils.\n\n CHARLIE\n Now. I want to know the particulars of\n your stupid act: how you got what\n doesn't belong to you, who helped you get\n it, and of course, where it is now.\n\n Charlie pulls the", "3A\n\n Del crosses to an old stereo and puts on an LP. He smiles as\n the music overtakes the room. Charlie and Wesley stand\n nearby, appreciating the quaintness of the surroundings.\n\n DEL\n Now, what can I get you gentlemen to\n drink?\n\n Del crosses to the cupboard. Charlie and Wesley stand\n leisurely in the living room.\n\n CHARLIE\n Bourbon, little water, thank you.\n\n", "socks out of Del's mouth. Del splutters,\n gasping for air.\n\n DEL\n It's in the Buick! I swear to God it's\n all there!\n\n\n\n 28 INT. BLAKE DANIELS' OFFICE - DAY (ON TV SCREEN) 28\n\n David enters. Blake nods to him grimly.\n\n DAVID\n You wanted to see me, Blake?\n\n BLA", "still, Del, we're just talking\n here...\n (pointing to a spot)\n Then you grab a big handful of hair and\n pull as you cut. It's amazing how easily\n the scalp comes off.\n\n WESLEY\n A mark, huh?\n\n Wesley takes a jab at Del's forehead with his knife, leaving\n a small cut.\n\n Del starts twitching, rocking back and forth as Wesley grabs\n a fistful of", "FFLED SCREAMS as he plows headlong into wooden paneling, a\n china cabinet, and finally, back toward them near the\n breakfast counter. Del bashes blindly into it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n (to Wesley)\n What the fuck is the matter with you?!\n\n Wesley is practically foaming at the mouth, still rushing on\n what he did. Charlie draws a silenced pistol and mercifully\n SHOOTS Del through the head. The big man", "away.\n\n\n\n 75 INT. LINCOLN TOWN CAR - KANSAS - MOVING - NIGHT 75\n\n Charlie and Wesley drive across Kansas farm country.\n\n CHARLIE\n So she gets rid of the asshole and is set\n for life in the same day.\n\n WESLEY\n You think so? Joyce says she's timid.\n\n CHARLIE\n Joyce was screwing Del.\n\n ", "V.O.)\n Hi Del, it's me. I guess you're busy.\n\n\n\n 8 INT. SIZEMORE MOTORS - TRAILER/OFFICE - DAY 8\n\n Del's very busy. He's on the rented sofa in the trailer's\n lounge, screwing his secretary, JOYCE. But as he rocks the\n couch, he's listening to Betty's message.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "doing a stupid\n thing. Not being stupid, you're equipped\n to recognize it.\n\n DEL\n Are we gonna do business here, or not?\n\n WESLEY\n Relax, we brought the cash.\n\n CHARLIE\n I'm just curious. Can't you give me an\n example?\n\n DEL\n (annoyed)\n All right ... lemme see ... okay, new\n Bur" ], [ " WESLEY\n I wanted to make a statement.\n\n CHARLIE\n Let me tell you something. In our\n business you can't put food on the table\n if your phone doesn't ring. The guys who\n get the calls are good - not flashy, just\n good. They get in, they get out. Nobody\n knows a goddamn thing. Understand?\n Boom, boom, boom. Three in the head and\n you", "it's in the Buick.\n\n CHARLIE\n We don't know which Buick, do we?\n\n WESLEY\n Well, why'd you shoot him?\n\n CHARLIE\n I had to shoot him! It was the only\n decent thing to do.\n\n They exit the house.\n\n CHARLIE (O.S.) (cont'd)\n This is very unprofessional, Wesley.\n\n", " Wesley is hit by a flying action figure. He doesn't flinch.\n Kids run by.\n\n WESLEY\n Aren't they precious?\n (BEAT)\n Ma'am, she has a substantial death\n benefit coming to her from the tragic\n loss of her husband. Does she have any\n relatives in the area?\n\n SUE ANN\n No.\n (BEAT)\n Well, her grandparents are down in\n ", "black Lincoln Town car hurdles along the 10 Freeway, a\n revitalized Charlie back at the wheel. Surrounded by\n traffic, the lights of the city in the distance, the two men\n push on toward their new destination.\n\n\n\n 121 EXT. HOLLYWOOD MOTEL - THE NEXT DAY 121\n\n The black Lincoln Town Car - now washed and gleaming - is\n parked in front of a modest motel.\n\n\n\n 122 INT. HOL", "\n\n CHARLIE\n AND TURN THAT FUCKING MUSIC OFF!\n\n Wesley switches it off. Charlie turns his back to the car\n and addresses the angry clouds on the horizon.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do I deserve this? In the twilight of my\n career, do I deserve this? I don't think\n so! I've always tried to do what's\n right. I never took out anybody who", "'re here\n to kill me, so kill me. You want me to\n be afraid, but I'm not. I don't care who\n you are, or why you two killed my\n husband...\n\n Charlie studies her, then sets his gun down on the bed.\n\n CHARLIE\n You really... didn't have anything to do\n with what Del was doing, did you?\n\n 132.\n\n\n BETTY\n ", " The men have retired into the dining room, sitting or\n standing around a worn wooded table. Charlie and Wesley are\n just finishing their drinks.\n\n DEL\n All right gentlemen, let's get down to\n it. I need to know if you're for real.\n\n CHARLIE\n If we're for real?\n\n DEL\n You don't exactly look like drug dealers.\n\n WESLEY\n Isn't", "S into it head-on. NURSES AND DOCTORS run into\n the parking lot. A GANGBANGER gets out of the Mercedes, dazed\n and wobbly. He pulls a pistol. Everyone dives for cover.\n\n The Mercedes driver is unconscious. The driver of the smashed\n up ambulance is slumped over the wheel. The rear doors fly\n open, and a young Hispanic woman, ROSA HERRERA, leaps out.\n\n ROSA\n SOMEB", "Swede or a Finn.\n\n WESLEY\n A 'Finn?' What is a Finn?\n\n CHARLIE\n You should read more. Listen to me. I\n think this woman was waiting for a chance\n to do this, and we gave it to her. She\n kept to herself for years, living with a\n pompous asshole. Then she sees her\n opportunity, and BOOM! - she leaves that\n little mudpatch in the dust.", "screen.\n\n WESLEY\n Thas' it, thas' it... conquer that bitch.\n (BEAT)\n What time're they coming?\n\n CHARLIE\n It's not an exact science, Wesley. He\n said they'll be here... My Houston\n contact has always been very reliable.\n\n WESLEY\n And then we're gonna do her right here.\n Right?\n\n CHAR", "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of", "?\n\n BALLARD\n Any idea where it is?\n\n ROY\n Little place called \"Williams,\" why?\n\n BALLARD\n I just got something off the wire. The\n woman who owns it was murdered last\n night.\n (BEAT)\n Now, I'm not saying I agree with you or\n nothing, but... what else do you know?\n\n ROY\n I know plenty.\n\n\n\n 1", "herself onto Wesley's back, knocking him to the floor.\n Ballard paws through the muck, scattering fish and gravel\n everywhere. He spots a glint of metal in the sand.\n\n Wesley struggles out from under Rosa. Just as he gets free,\n Ballard FIRES, hitting him TWICE into his chest. Wesley\n stares in disbelief at the blood rushing out of him. Then at\n Ballard, as if trying to link the two.\n\n He slumps to the floor and opens his mouth to", " It falls soundlessly onto his\n chest. A small pistol is revealed, holstered above his ankle.\n He works the holster open using the edge of the fishtank.\n\n 136.\n\n Roy and Rosa COUGH LOUDLY at the same time to cover the\n noise. Wesley glares at them.\n\n Ballard gets the pistol free. But it falls into the fishtank.\n The air goes out of Roy's sails. Ballard has fucked up again.\n\n On screen,", "peeks over his shoulder.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n What in the...\n (simmering)\n What the hell is this? You've been\n holding out on me. All this fucking\n time!\n\n CHARLIE\n It just didn't fit her profile...\n\n WESLEY\n Fuck the profile! That's the same guy!!\n\n CHARLIE\n She can't be", "still, Del, we're just talking\n here...\n (pointing to a spot)\n Then you grab a big handful of hair and\n pull as you cut. It's amazing how easily\n the scalp comes off.\n\n WESLEY\n A mark, huh?\n\n Wesley takes a jab at Del's forehead with his knife, leaving\n a small cut.\n\n Del starts twitching, rocking back and forth as Wesley grabs\n a fistful of", "n...\n (BEAT)\n So, what happened to the fifth car?\n\n 45.\n\n\n Duane shrugs his shoulders.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n You know you're going to die, don't you,\n Duane?\n (Duane nods)\n And you really don't know where that\n other LeSabre is, do you?\n\n Duane shakes his head. Charlie sighs,", "FFLED SCREAMS as he plows headlong into wooden paneling, a\n china cabinet, and finally, back toward them near the\n breakfast counter. Del bashes blindly into it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n (to Wesley)\n What the fuck is the matter with you?!\n\n Wesley is practically foaming at the mouth, still rushing on\n what he did. Charlie draws a silenced pistol and mercifully\n SHOOTS Del through the head. The big man", "You probably flew! I've crossed\n the river Styx looking for her, pal! I\n travelled the fucking country to be here!\n\n Charlie slams the door and frisks them, taking a gun and\n handcuffs from Ballard. Wesley returns with Rosa.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n (to Betty)\n Who are these idiots?\n\n BETTY\n This is Roy Ostrey, he's a reporter. And\n", " doesn't fight him. He kisses her hand and steps into the\n bathroom and closes the door. A single GUNBLAST sends a\n shiver through Betty.\n\n\n\n 148 INT. LYLA'S HOUSE - NIGHT 148\n\n TV Newscast\n\n CLOSE SHOT of an ANCHORMAN.\n\n ANCHORMAN\n In a story that police say is bizarre,\n even for Hollywood, a father-son team of\n kill" ], [ "follows Betty out the door.\n\n\n\n 93 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 93\n\n Betty and Rosa make their way up the stairs of a Silverlake\n apartment house.\n\n At the sound of SCREECHING TIRES they both look down as a\n black Lincoln Town Car drives by. Betty shudders.\n\n ROSA\n You okay? This neighborhood, you get\n used to it...\n\n She nods. Rosa continues", "to Love\" are playing.\n Betty pushes the phone back across the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n Where you headed, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Los Angeles, California.\n\n ELLEN\n And you called your friend, and she's\n telling you not to go?\n (Betty nods)\n When I went to Europe my friends told me\n I was crazy.\n\n 57.\n\n\n B", "\n 83 INT. BETTY'S LESABRE/ EXT. COUNTY USC HOSPITAL - MOVING -83\n AFTERNOON\n\n Betty drives through Boyle Heights - East L.A., holding a map\n and checking street signs. She is wearing a brand new\n Nurse's uniform. Up ahead, she sees the hillside complex of\n L.A. County/USC Hospital. Hurriedly, she pulls over and\n checks herself in the visor mirror. She", "3.\n\n\n BETTY\n Yes, ma'am.\n\n CHIEF NURSE\n Good. I'm prepared to offer you a job.\n You can help out in the pharmacy until\n your California certification and\n references arrive, but you are not to\n touch anyone. Is that totally clear?\n (Betty nods)\n Fine...\n\n The Chief Nurse gets up, and Betty follows suit.\n\n CHIEF N", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", " Southern California.\n\n The Chief Nurse looks at Betty for a moment, then stands\n abruptly, signaling the end of the interview.\n\n 67.\n\n\n CHIEF NURSE\n (cont'd)\n Well, I'm sorry, but I can't even\n consider you without references or a\n resume. And frankly, I don't know how\n you could have forgotten them.\n\n\n\n 85 INT. HOSPITAL", "V.O.)\n Hi Del, it's me. I guess you're busy.\n\n\n\n 8 INT. SIZEMORE MOTORS - TRAILER/OFFICE - DAY 8\n\n Del's very busy. He's on the rented sofa in the trailer's\n lounge, screwing his secretary, JOYCE. But as he rocks the\n couch, he's listening to Betty's message.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "FIRM - LATER 97\n\n Rosa is on the phone at her desk in a law office.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n Hey, Rosa...it's Betty. How do you get to\n this town called 'Tustin?' It's in Orange\n County...\n\n ROSA\n Tustin? Take the Hollywood Freeway to\n the Five...\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n The Five?\n", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", "\n Lyla shakes her head \"no.\"\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Jesus, don't do that! If it gets around\n that you fired me, I'll never land a\n pilot.\n\n LYLA\n Then do as you're told. Get her back.\n\n\n\n 149 INT. TIP TOP DINER - DAY 149\n\n George and Betty sit across from one another in a booth.\n ", "\n\n 134 EXT. HOLLYWOOD BLVD. - DAY 134\n\n Betty walks aimlessly along a busy street. She moves without\n direction, in a daze until a glint of bright light hits her,\n causing her to turn. She is staring at a black Lincoln\n sitting in a car lot, sunlight dancing off its chrome. She\n shudders involuntarily at it. Suddenly, she hears a familiar\n voice.\n\n DEL (O.S.)", " ROSA\n No, I'm not sure I could begin to\n imagine... So, where'd you go?\n\n 105.\n\n\n BETTY\n To a party in the Hollywood Hills.\n\n ROSA\n Was it a huge place? With a view of the\n whole world?\n\n BETTY\n Yes. I'd never been in a place like that\n before.\n\n R", " ROSA (cont'd)\n You don't sound like you're from here.\n\n BETTY\n I'm not. I just drove in from Kansas.\n\n ROSA\n So why'd you come to L.A.?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love. My fianc is here.\n\n MOTHER\n Bravo! Mi hija no hace nada para amor...\n\n ROS", " CHARLIE\n What difference does it make? She wasn't\n in Kansas City, or Houston, or Dallas. We\n\n 92.\n\n went to every goddamn place Del mentioned\n and no Betty. So what the hell makes you\n think she's in Vegas? You think she's\n waiting for us with tassles on her\n titties? Vegas is too crass for Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n", "\n her.\n\n\n\n 58 INT. BETTY'S LESABRE - MOVING - DAY 58\n\n Betty crosses the border from Texas into New Mexico. She\n grips the wheel intently, driving for all she's worth.\n\n\n\n 59 OMIT 59\n\n\n\n 60 EXT. FAIR OAKS TRAILER PARK - LATE AFTERNOON 60\n\n Betty's blue Corsica sits", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "gotta stop or you\n can forget about your Betty... I mean it.\n\n A slow transformation comes over Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley, I'm fine... just tell me where\n she is.\n\n\n\n 113 EXT. BEVERLY HILTON - NIGHT 113\n\n George, Betty, Lyla and the two friends are waiting outside\n the hotel for their cars.\n\n FRIEND #2\n I bought a car from Del" ], [ "busy.\n\n ROSA\n You need help, Betty! Even if this is\n your idea of a joke, you need SERIOUS\n HELP!!\n (walking away - to herself)\n Necesitas un mdico! Pront simo!\n\n ON BETTY\n\n fuming in her humiliation. After a moment, Rosa reappears at\n the window.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n I'm not going back on our", "ROSA\n David Ravell.\n\n MERCEDES\n God, that sounds so familiar. Ravell,\n Ravell... where's he out of?\n\n ROSA\n I'm not sure now. She said he used to be\n over at Loma Vista. I never heard of it.\n\n MERCEDES\n Loma Vista?\n (laughs)\n You mean like the guy on \"A Reason", " ROSA (cont'd)\n You don't sound like you're from here.\n\n BETTY\n I'm not. I just drove in from Kansas.\n\n ROSA\n So why'd you come to L.A.?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love. My fianc is here.\n\n MOTHER\n Bravo! Mi hija no hace nada para amor...\n\n ROS", " know.\n\n Rosa tries to stop Betty for a moment to talk. Betty grabs a\n pile of Rosa's clothes and heads for her room.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n ... this is your sweater, right?\n\n ROSA\n Where are you going?\n\n BETTY\n I have to leave now.\n\n She tries to put Betty's suitcase away.\n\n ROSA\n What? No,", "just--\n\n MOTHER\n Yo s que es su empleo, pero...\n\n ROSA\n She doesn't care if it was just your\n job... Danny would be dead now but for\n you.\n\n Sra. Herrera kisses Betty's hands and smiles through her\n tears. Then she motions to Rosa to take her place as she\n goes to Danny's bedside. Betty picks up Danny's chart and\n reads it.\n\n ", "\n ROSA\n He has a wife?!\n\n BETTY\n Had. She died in a car accident last\n year. She was decapitated.\n\n ROSA\n God, that's awful!\n\n BETTY\n It may not have been an accident. They\n never did find her head...\n\n ROSA\n Her 'head'?! You're making this up...\n\n BETTY\n ", "curiously.\n\n ROSA (CONT'D)\n You can go get your stuff right now. I'll\n walk you down.\n\n BETTY\n No, that's not, I couldn't...\n\n ROSA\n Listen, when someone does the kind of\n thing you did, you gotta do something in\n return. So, you stay with me until you\n find your David and live happily ever\n after. Okay?\n\n Rosa", "...\n\n Rosa stops.\n\n ROSA\n Jesus!... What are you saying?\n\n They stare at each other for a beat.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What?! That you had something to do with\n it?\n\n BETTY\n I don't know. I'm just starting to\n remember it now. I don't...\n\n 126.\n\n\n ROSA\n ", "135\n\n Rosa comes home from work and tosses her purse and jacket on\n the chair. No Betty in her room.\n\n ROSA\n Bet-ty!? Did the pizza guy show up yet?\n\n She emerges from Rosa's bedroom with toiletries and moves to\n an open suitcase in her room. She barely acknowledges Rosa.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n Are you all right?\n (no answer)\n What happened?\n ", ")\n They're beautiful, but get them some\n water.\n\n He gently hands her the fish, then picks up Wesley's nearby\n gun. Rosa nods; she's amazed that he knew what it was. She\n looks at Roy in a slightly different way before crawling away\n toward the kitchen.\n\n\n\n143-144 OMIT (NOW IN 141, 142) 143-144\n\n\n\n 145 INT. R", "\n ROSA\n Just look for the really crowded road and\n follow that.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n Okay...oh, umm, would you mind if I\n borrowed some clothes?\n\n ROSA\n Huh? Sure, look in my closet, take any\n dress you want!\n (BEAT)\n We're still on for tonight, right?\n\n\n\n 98 INT. EXAMINING ROOM -", "to talk as they climb the many\n stairs that lead to her door.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n I got this apartment with a guy.\n\n BETTY\n The one you were telling me about?\n\n ROSA\n No, this one was worse...I had to have\n the place sprayed when he left. Twice...\n He was two guys before the last one--not\n counting a little office thing in there,\n which I'm trust", "\n ROSA\n You still in love?\n\n Betty nods.\n\n ROSA\n Does he know you think he's real?\n\n BETTY\n He is real.\n\n ROSA\n Uh-huh... So, what'd you talk about?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, my gosh, everything! My trip out\n here, what we've both been doing, you\n know...\n\n", "\n\n ROSA\n No, please. Go ahead, it's your\n funeral...\n\n BETTY\n Rosa...\n\n ROSA\n Well, what if this guy's just playing\n with you? What if he's lying about who\n he is?\n\n BETTY\n You should have a little faith in people.\n\n ROSA\n Does he ever talk about medicine? His\n patients,", " ROSA\n No, I'm not sure I could begin to\n imagine... So, where'd you go?\n\n 105.\n\n\n BETTY\n To a party in the Hollywood Hills.\n\n ROSA\n Was it a huge place? With a view of the\n whole world?\n\n BETTY\n Yes. I'd never been in a place like that\n before.\n\n R", " because you get off on it, or you got\n serious problems. Which one is it?!\n\n BETTY\n I have no idea what you're talking about.\n\n ROSA\n I'M TALKING ABOUT DAVID RAVELL!!\n\n BETTY\n Shhh! I heard you the first time.\n\n ROSA\n (suddenly calm)\n I spent my weekend looking for someone\n who does - not", ")\n Why'd you help me in the first place?\n\n ROSA\n I helped you because I'm an idiot! Ask\n my mother, I love it when people take\n advantage of me! I TRUSTED YOU!! I\n THOUGHT HE WAS REAL!\n\n BETTY\n HE IS REAL!!\n\n Betty tries to return to her work but Rosa confronts her\n loudly. The nearby VISITORS and STAFF pretend to be", ". Then back\n at his face, now obscured by blood pouring down from his\n head.\n She stares, horrified, and in that moment Del becomes... a\n MAN, staring back at her as he wipes the sweat from his brow.\n\n MAN\n Who are you talking to? Are you crazy?\n\n Betty backs away and melts into the flow of PEDESTRIANS.\n\n\n\n 135 INT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - LATER ", " No, no! Well, see, she was having an\n affair with a Russian diplomat who I\n believe was mixed up with the Mafia...\n\n 81.\n\n\n ROSA\n Jesus, I thought my love life was\n crazy...\n\n LATER\n\n Rosa and Betty are sitting in a booth, talking over drinks.\n The place is a little quieter now.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n ... so, we'll", ".\n\n Still surprised, and now a little intrigued, he watches her\n go inside.\n\n\n\n 117 INT. ROSA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT 117\n\n Betty comes in and pours a drink from the fridge. Rosa\n appears in a nightshirt behind her, framed in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n Were you with him this whole time?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, God! You scared me! Yes...\n" ], [ " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", " strokes her head.\n\n BETTY\n There... you rest now.\n\n The woman's eyes flutter. She is disoriented at first, then\n calms as she adjusts to the comforting sight of Betty. Betty\n takes her hand.\n\n OLDER WOMAN\n Who... who're you?\n\n BETTY\n I'm... I'm Nurse Betty.\n\n The woman smiles serenely at this and begins to drift", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", ". Then back\n at his face, now obscured by blood pouring down from his\n head.\n She stares, horrified, and in that moment Del becomes... a\n MAN, staring back at her as he wipes the sweat from his brow.\n\n MAN\n Who are you talking to? Are you crazy?\n\n Betty backs away and melts into the flow of PEDESTRIANS.\n\n\n\n 135 INT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - LATER ", "the canyon. Turning\n her head slowly, as if expecting it, she sees DAVID RAVELL\n leaning on the rail about twenty feet away, clutching a\n bouquet of roses.\n\n Betty starts toward him... he starts toward her... A magic\n moment... Shattered when a black sedan appears, inching its\n way along. She freezes. David vanishes, and ...\n An ELDERLY MAN helps his wife out of the car and snaps her\n picture in front of the canyon. Betty moves", "stops suddenly,\n blinks once or twice, topples over.\n\n\n\n 30 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 30\n\n Betty points her remote at the dining room and clicks it, as\n if trying to make the image disappear. Finally, she gives\n up, slowly turning away from the carnage and aims at the TV.\n \"A Reason to Love\" pauses on the face of David Ravell and\n Betty sits in absolute silence.\n\n\n\n 31 ", "eyes. Suddenly, she jumps inside the\n Chevrolet and slams the door.\n\n\n\n 11 EXT. SIZEMORE MOTORS/TRAILER PARK - DAY 11\n\n The blue Corsica leaves the parking lot and pulls onto the\n street. The car makes an abrupt turn into a trailer park\n directly behind the car lot and glides to a halt behind a row\n of battered airstreams.\n\n Betty gets outs of the Chevy and looks back: the handsome", "Del and me,\n didn't it?\n\n SUE ANN\n Yeah, hon. Real bad. You just get some\n sleep, everything's gonna be fine.\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann, I'm sorry about all this, but I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me...\n\n Sue Ann looks down at her friend, troubled. She strokes\n Betty's hair gently and kisses her. After she leaves, Bet", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", ".\n\n Still surprised, and now a little intrigued, he watches her\n go inside.\n\n\n\n 117 INT. ROSA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT 117\n\n Betty comes in and pours a drink from the fridge. Rosa\n appears in a nightshirt behind her, framed in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n Were you with him this whole time?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, God! You scared me! Yes...\n", "m.p.h.\n ... 85 ... 90 m.p.h. She turns the radio up louder.\n\n When she approaches a sign saying \"You are leaving Kansas\"\n Betty suddenly becomes self-conscious. She eases up on the\n gas ... slows down ... does a U-turn and heads back toward\n Fair Oaks. She glances wistfully in her rear view mirror at\n the billboard that quickly fades into the distance.\n\n\n\n 15 EXT. BETTY'S", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "Now roll them\n into a ball...\n\n Del does it.\n\n DEL\n Oh, Jesus, please... Please, God.\n\n CHARLIE\n ... and put them in your mouth.\n\n At a sharp look from Charlie, Del obediently stuffs the socks\n into his mouth and starts to cry. Wesley produces a roll of\n duct tape and fastens Del's hands to the back of his chair.\n\n\n\n 26 INT. BETTY'S", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", "ty\n lies awake, staring at the ceiling. A mobile dangles\n overhead.\n\n LATER\n\n The Mickey Mouse clock on the wall reads 3:30. Beneath it,\n Betty is sitting up in bed, wide awake.\n\n\n\n 44 INT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT 44\n\n Betty comes down the stairs without a sound. She finds a pen\n and paper near the phone and writes a note.\n\n INSERT:", "drive, and drive, and drive!\n\n BETTY\n Yeah, me too.\n\n SUE ANN\n Sorry, hon. Happy Birthday...\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go make dinner.\n\n Betty throws her a look as Sue Ann closes the door. Betty\n turns around, frustrated. She starts yanking her apron off\n as she crosses the street.\n\n\n\n 17 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DAY" ], [ " Could I get some service here, please?\n\n Without looking, the waiter approaches, tops off her cup and\n moves back to watching the show. Betty smiles knowingly at\n this, takes a sip and settles back in her seat. Slowly, the\n world passes by.\n\n POSTSCRIPT:\n Betty Sizemore appeared in 63 episodes of \"A\n Reason to Love.\" She is using her earnings to pay\n for a nursing degree and is currently on vacation in\n ", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", " doesn't exist. You come here, you meet\n this guy, who should laugh in your face,\n and instead you leave with him!\n (BEAT)\n Betty, you are one-of-a-kind...\n\n Rosa goes into her bedroom and closes the door. Betty smiles\n and nods, sipping at her drink as she retires to her room.\n\n\n\n 118 OMIT (NOW 120A) 118\n\n\n\n 11", " (BEAT)\n Go on now...\n\n DARLENE\n When you gonna get those things fixed,\n anyhow?\n\n COOK #1\n When you all quit watching 'em for a\n living...\n\n Frustrated, Betty delivers several plates and drops them at\n tables where the people know her by name. She moves off\n toward FOUR LOCAL GUYS in a booth jangling their empty cups.\n Betty weaves her way over to", " This is not even close to Betty...\n\n 72.\n\n\n WOMAN\n What the fuck're you talking about? My\n name's Betty...\n\n CHARLIE\n Then I'm sorry... Wrong Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n Let's get out of here. We got another\n long drive ahead of us.\n (BEAT)\n ... the fuck where I do not know, but", " GEORGE\n No! No problem, there is no...\n (to Betty, sotto)\n What is the problem? Just do that...\n thing... you do! Come on! You drove me\n nuts with this for three days, now do it!\n\n George steps back behind the cameras as if nothing's wrong.\n Betty still hasn't moved. She's shaking with fear. The cast\n and crew members find it hard to look at her.\n\n LY", " two battered, fuzzy TV sets.\n BETTY SIZEMORE, 30, has a wholesome attractiveness that\n competes with a bit too much makeup and a cheesy white\n waitress uniform. TWO OTHER WAITRESSES attend to customers\n behind her.\n The younger of the two guys is involved in the soap opera.\n But the older one, still wants coffee. He gestures toward\n Betty.\n\n OLDER MAN\n Miss?\n\n Betty leans", "s fine, we've only got seventy\n pages to shoot...take your time.\n\n A STAGE MANAGER hands Betty a set of sides and an on-set\n COSTUMER tries to fit her.\n\n BETTY\n Excuse me. What are you doing?\n\n STAGE MANAGER\n We'll get you into hair and make-up after\n this, just put this on...\n\n The other actors take their positions. Lyla watches from\n ", "GE\n Alright, okay... I think you broke the\n record for staying in character about\n three hours ago.\n\n BETTY\n You told me that two hours ago.\n\n He pulls up in front of Rosa's apartment and parks.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n I haven't been this happy since I was\n twelve years old.\n\n GEORGE\n What happened when you were twelve?\n\n BETTY\n ", "follows Betty out the door.\n\n\n\n 93 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 93\n\n Betty and Rosa make their way up the stairs of a Silverlake\n apartment house.\n\n At the sound of SCREECHING TIRES they both look down as a\n black Lincoln Town Car drives by. Betty shudders.\n\n ROSA\n You okay? This neighborhood, you get\n used to it...\n\n She nods. Rosa continues", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", " BETTY\n It's your body...\n\n Betty turns back to change pots. The older man watches her\n intently as the younger of the two mumbles to himself.\n\n YOUNGER MAN\n (to himself)\n That's right, so why don't you get up off\n it...\n\n OLDER MAN\n Wesley...\n (to Betty)\n I've told him the same thing. Thanks for\n ", "(BEAT)\n I found out where they shoot it, and\n where the dressing rooms are.\n\n Charlie studies the photo, troubled by something.\n\n CHARLIE\n Who's this?\n\n 115.\n\n\n WESLEY\n A doctor on the show... why?\n\n Charlie thinks about it, then reaches into his pocket and\n takes out the photo of Betty with the cardboard David. As he\n compares the photos, Wesley", " BETTY\n Do you have a phone?\n\n Ellen swings a phone up onto the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n If it's long distance you can leave me a\n buck when you're done.\n\n Betty dials ...\n\n 55.\n\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann? It's Betty. I just wanted to\n let you know I'm okay ... Huh? I'm at\n the C", "... you're different.\n\n BETTY\n I am?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sure. You could probably have any thing\n you wanted... somebody as beautiful and\n stylish as yourself, and you don't even\n realize it.\n\n Betty looks curiously over at Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n I'm appreciably older than you, but my\n health is good. I take care of myself,\n and", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", "as George!\n\n BETTY\n Oh, he does that.\n (hugging him)\n It's this silly game he plays. Half the\n people who know him call him George.\n\n\n\n 126 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 126\n\n GEORGE\n I don't think your friend likes me.\n\n BETTY\n She's a little jealous, I think. And" ], [ " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", " strokes her head.\n\n BETTY\n There... you rest now.\n\n The woman's eyes flutter. She is disoriented at first, then\n calms as she adjusts to the comforting sight of Betty. Betty\n takes her hand.\n\n OLDER WOMAN\n Who... who're you?\n\n BETTY\n I'm... I'm Nurse Betty.\n\n The woman smiles serenely at this and begins to drift", "puts both hands over Betty's eyes. He looks\n about expectantly and then uncovers them with a flourish.\n\n GEORGE (cont'd)\n Surprise!\n\n Betty stares, slowly trying to take in her new surroundings.\n It looks like Loma Vista, but something is different. Odd.\n Cameras, lights, etc. - all the apparatus of a TV show - are\n in plain sight... And very disorienting.\n\n BETTY\n Oh", "Del and me,\n didn't it?\n\n SUE ANN\n Yeah, hon. Real bad. You just get some\n sleep, everything's gonna be fine.\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann, I'm sorry about all this, but I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me...\n\n Sue Ann looks down at her friend, troubled. She strokes\n Betty's hair gently and kisses her. After she leaves, Bet", ". Then back\n at his face, now obscured by blood pouring down from his\n head.\n She stares, horrified, and in that moment Del becomes... a\n MAN, staring back at her as he wipes the sweat from his brow.\n\n MAN\n Who are you talking to? Are you crazy?\n\n Betty backs away and melts into the flow of PEDESTRIANS.\n\n\n\n 135 INT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - LATER ", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "m.p.h.\n ... 85 ... 90 m.p.h. She turns the radio up louder.\n\n When she approaches a sign saying \"You are leaving Kansas\"\n Betty suddenly becomes self-conscious. She eases up on the\n gas ... slows down ... does a U-turn and heads back toward\n Fair Oaks. She glances wistfully in her rear view mirror at\n the billboard that quickly fades into the distance.\n\n\n\n 15 EXT. BETTY'S", "DEL (cont'd)\n Daddy's here, babies... daddy's here.\n (to Betty)\n Be back later... clean up.\n\n He exits. She collects his dirty dishes, puts them in the\n sink and starts to wash them. Then she stops.\n\n BETTY\n What the hell am I doing?\n\n She drops the dishes with a clatter, pours herself a glass of\n wine, lights the candle on her deflowered cupcake and opens\n", "stops suddenly,\n blinks once or twice, topples over.\n\n\n\n 30 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 30\n\n Betty points her remote at the dining room and clicks it, as\n if trying to make the image disappear. Finally, she gives\n up, slowly turning away from the carnage and aims at the TV.\n \"A Reason to Love\" pauses on the face of David Ravell and\n Betty sits in absolute silence.\n\n\n\n 31 ", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", "\n ROSA\n You still in love?\n\n Betty nods.\n\n ROSA\n Does he know you think he's real?\n\n BETTY\n He is real.\n\n ROSA\n Uh-huh... So, what'd you talk about?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, my gosh, everything! My trip out\n here, what we've both been doing, you\n know...\n\n", "the canyon. Turning\n her head slowly, as if expecting it, she sees DAVID RAVELL\n leaning on the rail about twenty feet away, clutching a\n bouquet of roses.\n\n Betty starts toward him... he starts toward her... A magic\n moment... Shattered when a black sedan appears, inching its\n way along. She freezes. David vanishes, and ...\n An ELDERLY MAN helps his wife out of the car and snaps her\n picture in front of the canyon. Betty moves", "ty\n lies awake, staring at the ceiling. A mobile dangles\n overhead.\n\n LATER\n\n The Mickey Mouse clock on the wall reads 3:30. Beneath it,\n Betty is sitting up in bed, wide awake.\n\n\n\n 44 INT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT 44\n\n Betty comes down the stairs without a sound. She finds a pen\n and paper near the phone and writes a note.\n\n INSERT:", "\n LONNIE\n (laughs)\n You feel guilty? Let me remind you of\n something, sweetheart. You're in this up\n to those fabulous eyes of yours.\n Understand?\n\n The camera holds on her face for a melodramatic beat ...\n Chloe's trapped, and she knows it.\n\n PULL BACK to reveal Betty lying on the bed in her motel room,\n out cold.\n\n 44.\n\n", ".\n\n Still surprised, and now a little intrigued, he watches her\n go inside.\n\n\n\n 117 INT. ROSA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT 117\n\n Betty comes in and pours a drink from the fridge. Rosa\n appears in a nightshirt behind her, framed in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n Were you with him this whole time?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, God! You scared me! Yes...\n" ], [ "... you're different.\n\n BETTY\n I am?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sure. You could probably have any thing\n you wanted... somebody as beautiful and\n stylish as yourself, and you don't even\n realize it.\n\n Betty looks curiously over at Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n I'm appreciably older than you, but my\n health is good. I take care of myself,\n and", "in' 'Mother', I love you!' P.S. I\n wish I could say this to my mother's\n face, but I can't anymore.\"\n\n Wesley rolls his eyes and turns up the volume. Finally a car\n pulls up outside and Charlie snaps the book closed. He makes\n a quick attempt to arrange himself and motions to Wesley, who\n turns off the tape.\n\n A WOMAN with greasy blonde hair and skinny legs shown off by\n a short skirt comes in with another M", " CHARLIE\n No, just stand there... lemme look at you\n a minute.\n\n She does. Charlie stares intently at her.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do you know who I am?\n\n BETTY\n ... I... I know what you are.\n\n CHARLIE\n Do you know why I'm here?\n\n BETTY\n I've got a pretty good idea. You", "they will\n be friends.\" Now that's beautiful.\n\n Betty is stunned.\n\n BETTY\n I wrote that when I was twelve... where'd\n you get that?!\n\n CHARLIE\n (he pulls out the diary)\n I know. I borrowed it from your\n grandparents because I... I... it doesn't\n matter. Don't worry, they're fine...\n (he gives the diary back)\n ", "kick back with JERROLD BLAINE and his wife ELIZABETH,\n both in their 80's. Photos of Betty at various ages lie\n scattered in front of them.\n\n Charlie holds up a picture of a young Betty in ballerina\n costume posing at the barre. He studies it intently.\n\n ELIZABETH\n This is Betty at twelve.\n\n CHARLIE\n Very graceful. Perfect form.\n\n E", "AN. Charlie looks her\n over disgustedly as his face falls.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Who are you?!\n (to the man)\n What the... Who the hell is this?\n\n MAN #1\n Easy, Charlie! She's exactly who you\n said you were looking for.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wait, wait a minute. We have a major\n miscommunication here. This not Betty.\n ", "I got some money socked away. You'd\n never have to work agin, that's for sure.\n I'd treat you like a queen.\n\n BETTY\n Umm, I don't think that...\n\n CHARLIE\n Wait. Let me get this out.\n (clears his throat)\n I like the symphony, walks in the rain,\n sunsets, animals and children. I read\n passionately, and I like to", "His\n hair is uncombed and his clothes are wrinkled. His eyes have\n a thousand-yard stare.\n\n 84.\n\n\n WESLEY (O.S.)\n (CONT'D)\n Sounds like she's with the buyer Del\n lined up.\n\n Charlie pulls himself up on the door and looks down.\n\n CHARLIE\n How'd they describe her?\n\n WESLEY\n You know,", "Did... did you really come here because\n you love this guy?\n\n BETTY\n Yes... Not the actor, though, the doctor.\n I think.\n\n Charlie's sinks slowly to the floor.\n\n CHARLIE\n So all this...really was because of that\n soap opera? My son is dead because you\n came out here to be with that doctor? A\n fake doctor?\n\n BETTY\n I wouldn't have", " CHARLIE\n If we went out that window right now we'd\n have a chance...\n\n BETTY\n I better go check on them.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wait, Betty... you still haven't answered\n me.\n\n BETTY\n This is really awkward...\n\n The SIRENS are coming closer. He waves her off.\n\n CHARLIE\n Ahh, it's too late, anyway", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "I have no idea what he was mixed up in...\n it was always something.\n\n CHARLIE\n So you weren't involved with him in his\n pathetic attempt to diversify?\n (off her blank look)\n Were you mixed up in the drugs, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Drugs? God, no! I'm totally against\n drugs.\n\n CHARLIE\n Damn, life is strange. I had you figured", " I said, 'No.' N-O.\n\n Charlie turns to a passage and reads aloud.\n\n CHARLIE\n \"When I grow up I'm going to become a\n nurse or a veterinarian. I always want\n to help people and value all life, be it\n animal, plant or mineral...\"\n (to Wesley)\n Does that sound like a goddamn showgirl\n to you?\n\n WESLEY\n Do you hear", "\n\n CHARLIE\n AND TURN THAT FUCKING MUSIC OFF!\n\n Wesley switches it off. Charlie turns his back to the car\n and addresses the angry clouds on the horizon.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do I deserve this? In the twilight of my\n career, do I deserve this? I don't think\n so! I've always tried to do what's\n right. I never took out anybody who", " CHARLIE\n We'll do what we can. Where is she?\n\n ROSA\n Bet-ty!\n (to the men)\n Please, go easy on her. She's had a\n really rough day.\n\n Betty appears. She recognizes the men instantly and freezes.\n Charlie's eyes wander over her... slowly. Wesley notices.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n These guys are here to help you, Bet", " CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Not her mouth...\n (to Betty)\n I've spent many long hours in a car with\n your face staring back at me. I've seen\n it painted on the horizon.\n\n WESLEY\n (to Charlie)\n What's wrong with you?\n\n 129.\n\n\n A KNOCK at the door ruins Charlie's moment.\n\n ROSA\n", " That's our pizza... You can't go yet.\n\n\n\n 136 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - DAY 136\n\n Charlie watches Betty undress from a nearby fire escape. He\n stares at the object of his desperate search with relief and\n some fascination.\n\n Betty's movements are unhurried, mindless. Charlie stares,\n mesmerized, until she steps into the shower.\n\n\n\n 137 EXT. R", "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of", "ARLIE\n You're sorry? YOU'RE THE REASON WE'RE\n HERE!\n\n BETTY\n WAIT A SECOND! I AM NOT THE REASON\n YOU'RE HERE! I WAS MINDING MY OWN\n BUSINESS, LIVING A PERFECTLY BORING LIFE\n UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG!\n\n Charlie fights back his grief.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n", "topping\n out at fifteen.\n (BEAT)\n She's probably all cool and fresh, and\n comfortable in that nice air-conditioned\n car right now.\n\n Wesley wipes the sweat from his eyes and trudges on in\n silence. Charlie takes out a photo of Betty and speaks to it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n You don't look comfortable here. That's\n 'cause you don't like being the center of\n " ], [ " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "I'm not gonna let you just run\n out of here... You need to talk about\n what's going on...\n\n BETTY\n You think I'm crazy, Rosa, but you don't\n know the half of it. My husband was,\n ahh...\n\n ROSA\n Your husband?!\n\n BETTY\n Yes, I had a husband and he was killed\n two weeks ago in my kitchen. I was right\n there", "\n ROSA\n He has a wife?!\n\n BETTY\n Had. She died in a car accident last\n year. She was decapitated.\n\n ROSA\n God, that's awful!\n\n BETTY\n It may not have been an accident. They\n never did find her head...\n\n ROSA\n Her 'head'?! You're making this up...\n\n BETTY\n ", "church, and the pastor let me in,\n and I sat--\n\n LYLA\n ... in the very first pew, where we would\n have sat on our wedding day.\n\n 95.\n\n\n Betty looks at her. So does George.\n\n LYLA (cont'd)\n I can't believe I remembered that,\n although I suppose I should. I wrote\n it...\n (to Betty)\n But", "Del and me,\n didn't it?\n\n SUE ANN\n Yeah, hon. Real bad. You just get some\n sleep, everything's gonna be fine.\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann, I'm sorry about all this, but I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me...\n\n Sue Ann looks down at her friend, troubled. She strokes\n Betty's hair gently and kisses her. After she leaves, Bet", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", "ociative symptoms.\n\n BALLARD\n Could I have that in American?\n\n DOCTOR\n It's a type of altered state...it allows\n a traumatized person to continue\n functioning.\n\n BALLARD\n So she did witness it?\n\n ROY\n Oh, you're sharp as a tack, Elden.\n\n BALLARD\n That's it! YOU'RE GONE!\n\n He spins", "E\n Maybe...\n (into phone)\n Yes?\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Is this Neighborly Life Insurance?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sorry, you've got the wrong number.\n\n He hangs up.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n No, I see Betty as a Midwestern Stoic\n type. Ice water in her veins. A clear\n thinker. Probably a", " strokes her head.\n\n BETTY\n There... you rest now.\n\n The woman's eyes flutter. She is disoriented at first, then\n calms as she adjusts to the comforting sight of Betty. Betty\n takes her hand.\n\n OLDER WOMAN\n Who... who're you?\n\n BETTY\n I'm... I'm Nurse Betty.\n\n The woman smiles serenely at this and begins to drift", " GEORGE\n No! No problem, there is no...\n (to Betty, sotto)\n What is the problem? Just do that...\n thing... you do! Come on! You drove me\n nuts with this for three days, now do it!\n\n George steps back behind the cameras as if nothing's wrong.\n Betty still hasn't moved. She's shaking with fear. The cast\n and crew members find it hard to look at her.\n\n LY", "...\n\n Rosa stops.\n\n ROSA\n Jesus!... What are you saying?\n\n They stare at each other for a beat.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What?! That you had something to do with\n it?\n\n BETTY\n I don't know. I'm just starting to\n remember it now. I don't...\n\n 126.\n\n\n ROSA\n ", "DEL (cont'd)\n Daddy's here, babies... daddy's here.\n (to Betty)\n Be back later... clean up.\n\n He exits. She collects his dirty dishes, puts them in the\n sink and starts to wash them. Then she stops.\n\n BETTY\n What the hell am I doing?\n\n She drops the dishes with a clatter, pours herself a glass of\n wine, lights the candle on her deflowered cupcake and opens\n", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "a DOCTOR. Ballard and Roy watch through a window.\n\n DOCTOR\n And did your husband know these people?\n\n BETTY\n Sort of...but he ignored them.\n\n DOCTOR\n And how did that make you feel, Betty?\n\n 37.\n\n\n BETTY\n I felt all cold inside. And angry.\n\n Ballard looks both ways to make sure he won't be overheard.\n\n ", " Yeah, but your running away isn't going\n to help you with all this...\n\n BETTY\n There was blood everywhere, Rosa. I saw\n it, I think I watched the whole thing\n happen... Oh my God...\n\n ROSA\n Okay, okay, look, ummm... Let's just talk\n a little first and you'll feel better, I\n promise.\n\n The doorbell rings.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n", "stops suddenly,\n blinks once or twice, topples over.\n\n\n\n 30 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DEN - NIGHT 30\n\n Betty points her remote at the dining room and clicks it, as\n if trying to make the image disappear. Finally, she gives\n up, slowly turning away from the carnage and aims at the TV.\n \"A Reason to Love\" pauses on the face of David Ravell and\n Betty sits in absolute silence.\n\n\n\n 31 ", " because you get off on it, or you got\n serious problems. Which one is it?!\n\n BETTY\n I have no idea what you're talking about.\n\n ROSA\n I'M TALKING ABOUT DAVID RAVELL!!\n\n BETTY\n Shhh! I heard you the first time.\n\n ROSA\n (suddenly calm)\n I spent my weekend looking for someone\n who does - not" ], [ " some professional pride. And I don't\n want anybody else to get the credit for\n taking me out.\n\n BETTY\n ...what're you saying?\n\n CHARLIE\n When a Roman general knew a battle was\n lost, he'd throw himself on his sword.\n\n Charlie fumbles in his pocket, then pulls out the photo of\n Betty with the cardboard David Ravell.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n ", "\n\n CHARLIE\n AND TURN THAT FUCKING MUSIC OFF!\n\n Wesley switches it off. Charlie turns his back to the car\n and addresses the angry clouds on the horizon.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do I deserve this? In the twilight of my\n career, do I deserve this? I don't think\n so! I've always tried to do what's\n right. I never took out anybody who", "don't lie when they're about to\n die.\n\n 141.\n\n (BEAT)\n You don't need that doctor. You don't\n need that actor. You don't need any man.\n It's not the forties, honey. You don't\n need anybody. You've got yourself... and\n that's more than most people can say.\n\n Charlie reaches out slowly and takes the gun from Betty. She\n", " Wesley's head. Wesley looks at it and keeps on driving.\n\n Charlie knows this isn't the way to handle it. He lowers the\n pistol.\n\n CHARLIE\n If you don't take the next turn for the\n canyon, I'm blowing my goddamn brains all\n over this car.\n\n He puts the pistol in his mouth and cocks it. Wesley looks\n over, not so sure this time.\n\n LONG SHOT of the black", "Did... did you really come here because\n you love this guy?\n\n BETTY\n Yes... Not the actor, though, the doctor.\n I think.\n\n Charlie's sinks slowly to the floor.\n\n CHARLIE\n So all this...really was because of that\n soap opera? My son is dead because you\n came out here to be with that doctor? A\n fake doctor?\n\n BETTY\n I wouldn't have", " CHARLIE\n If we went out that window right now we'd\n have a chance...\n\n BETTY\n I better go check on them.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wait, Betty... you still haven't answered\n me.\n\n BETTY\n This is really awkward...\n\n The SIRENS are coming closer. He waves her off.\n\n CHARLIE\n Ahh, it's too late, anyway", " CHARLIE\n No, just stand there... lemme look at you\n a minute.\n\n She does. Charlie stares intently at her.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Do you know who I am?\n\n BETTY\n ... I... I know what you are.\n\n CHARLIE\n Do you know why I'm here?\n\n BETTY\n I've got a pretty good idea. You", "resigned.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n He's telling the truth. He doesn't know.\n\n WESLEY\n Should I kill him now?\n\n CHARLIE\n Wait. Any last words, General Lee?\n\n Duane nods emphatically. Wesley pulls the Confederate flags\n out of his mouth.\n\n DUANE\n Suck my dick, you Yankee piece of shit.\n\n He sp", " Del nods; crying, sweating.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Good. Now we're getting somewhere. You\n agree that you were stupid?\n\n Del nods again. Wesley collects Charlie's glass and mixes\n him another drink. He gets a beer for himself and stands\n behind Del. Charlie sips his drink slowly, savoring it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n You know, a hundred and fifty years ago\n", "n shoot-out! Wesley? What the\n fuck happened out there?!\n\n He opens the door, and a bullet slams into the doorjamb near\n his head. He ducks back in.\n\n Charlie sags against the wall, looking toward Betty.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n That's my son! My son is dead!\n\n BETTY\n I'm sorry.\n\n 138.\n\n\n CH", "put it quite that way,\n but...\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley didn't even want to come up here.\n He warned me, but I insisted...\n (BEAT)\n I have to ask you, Betty...are you crazy?\n\n BETTY\n I don't think I am.\n\n Charlie remains sitting pensively for a long beat.\n\n CHARLIE\n I want you to listen to me, Betty.\n People", "discuss\n things. I'm basically conservative, but\n flexible. I've been involved in the\n death of thirty-two people, but I can\n live with that because the world is\n lighter by thirty-two pieces of shit,\n excuse my language.\n\n BETTY\n \"Thirty-two?\"\n\n CHARLIE\n Well, thirty-three, but I'm not counting\n Del, on account of you... so, what do you\n ", "ARLIE\n You're sorry? YOU'RE THE REASON WE'RE\n HERE!\n\n BETTY\n WAIT A SECOND! I AM NOT THE REASON\n YOU'RE HERE! I WAS MINDING MY OWN\n BUSINESS, LIVING A PERFECTLY BORING LIFE\n UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG!\n\n Charlie fights back his grief.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n", "n...\n (BEAT)\n So, what happened to the fifth car?\n\n 45.\n\n\n Duane shrugs his shoulders.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n You know you're going to die, don't you,\n Duane?\n (Duane nods)\n And you really don't know where that\n other LeSabre is, do you?\n\n Duane shakes his head. Charlie sighs,", "E\n Maybe...\n (into phone)\n Yes?\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Is this Neighborly Life Insurance?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sorry, you've got the wrong number.\n\n He hangs up.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n No, I see Betty as a Midwestern Stoic\n type. Ice water in her veins. A clear\n thinker. Probably a", "Look, I used to feel that same way, said\n practically those same words, sitting at\n night in a foxhole in Korea...\n (BEAT)\n I've chased you across the country,\n Betty, and I come to find out we're a lot\n more alike than you'd think.\n\n BETTY\n I thought you were a garbageman of\n humanity, or something.\n\n CHARLIE\n Yes, but I'd sort", "I have no idea what he was mixed up in...\n it was always something.\n\n CHARLIE\n So you weren't involved with him in his\n pathetic attempt to diversify?\n (off her blank look)\n Were you mixed up in the drugs, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Drugs? God, no! I'm totally against\n drugs.\n\n CHARLIE\n Damn, life is strange. I had you figured", "'t go down. They begin\n a torturous second lap around the table, punctuated by the\n CLANG of the scoop against Merle's head.\n\n CHARLIE\n What's your name, dear?\n\n ELLEN\n Ellen.\n\n CHARLIE\n That's a nice name.\n\n After one more CLANGING shot Merle staggers, then falls.\n Wesley walks over to Charlie and Ellen, drawing his knife.\n\n ", "scream ...\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n D-A-A-A-D-D-D-Y-Y-!!!!\n\n Charlie opens the bedroom door.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley??!\n\n Charlie sees Wesley turn to him as Ballard FIRES again.\n Wesley's face explodes. The flying lead drives Charlie back\n to the bedroom.\n\n Crawling through the muck, Roy notices a fish flopping\n helplessly on the carpet", "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of" ], [ "ROY\n Come on, I have to get this dressing\n off...it itches! And what about my fish?\n Who is taking care of them?\n\n Ballard doesn't say anything. He's very grim, subdued. Roy\n has never seen him like this.\n\n BALLARD\n Just shut up a second and listen... That,\n uh... that bar in Arizona? Where you\n said Betty was?\n\n ROY\n What about it", " BETTY\n Do you have a phone?\n\n Ellen swings a phone up onto the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n If it's long distance you can leave me a\n buck when you're done.\n\n Betty dials ...\n\n 55.\n\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann? It's Betty. I just wanted to\n let you know I'm okay ... Huh? I'm at\n the C", "m sorry. I left so quick, but\n I need to do this.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Do what?\n\n 56.\n\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Betty! Listen to me! Del is ...\n\n Betty hangs up.\n\n\n\n 71 INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT (ON TV SCRE", "bar and starts rinsing glasses.\n After a beat, Betty gets up and moves down close to her.\n\n BETTY\n Ellen, this is the biggest thing I've\n ever done, but I've gotta do it.\n\n ELLEN\n You take care of yourself then, Betty,\n and don't let anybody stop you...\n\n BETTY\n To tell you the truth, I can't believe\n I've made it this far. It", ".\n\n Still surprised, and now a little intrigued, he watches her\n go inside.\n\n\n\n 117 INT. ROSA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT 117\n\n Betty comes in and pours a drink from the fridge. Rosa\n appears in a nightshirt behind her, framed in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n Were you with him this whole time?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, God! You scared me! Yes...\n", " No, no! Well, see, she was having an\n affair with a Russian diplomat who I\n believe was mixed up with the Mafia...\n\n 81.\n\n\n ROSA\n Jesus, I thought my love life was\n crazy...\n\n LATER\n\n Rosa and Betty are sitting in a booth, talking over drinks.\n The place is a little quieter now.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n ... so, we'll", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", "ty drives along a lonely stretch of highway that slowly\n reveals a desert town in the distance.\n\n\n\n 66 INT. CANYON RANCH BAR - DAY 66\n\n Big ol' place. Lots of wood and red leather. Betty rushes\n in as the clock on the wall reads 2:58. The Town Drunk,\n MERLE, is alone at the bar watching \"Bass Masters\" on a huge\n TV screen. In front of him is a remote control. A FEW", "says\n you've got money comin' to you from Del's\n policy.\n (BEAT)\n Del's life insurance policy-- Are you\n with me?\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n What are you talking about?\n\n\n\n 70 INT. CANYON RANCH BAR - DAY 70\n\n \"A REASON TO LOVE\" comes back on the TV.\n\n BETTY\n Tell Del I'", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return", "(BEAT) So, how'd it go\n today? You find him?\n\n BETTY\n Ummm...no, no. Different 'Ravell.'\n\n Rosa starts to lead her to the bar.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n You know, the more I think about it, this\n really isn't David's kind of place.\n\n ROSA\n What are you talking about? This bar is\n packed with professional people!\n", " two battered, fuzzy TV sets.\n BETTY SIZEMORE, 30, has a wholesome attractiveness that\n competes with a bit too much makeup and a cheesy white\n waitress uniform. TWO OTHER WAITRESSES attend to customers\n behind her.\n The younger of the two guys is involved in the soap opera.\n But the older one, still wants coffee. He gestures toward\n Betty.\n\n OLDER MAN\n Miss?\n\n Betty leans", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "\n ROSA\n He has a wife?!\n\n BETTY\n Had. She died in a car accident last\n year. She was decapitated.\n\n ROSA\n God, that's awful!\n\n BETTY\n It may not have been an accident. They\n never did find her head...\n\n ROSA\n Her 'head'?! You're making this up...\n\n BETTY\n ", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", "to Love\" are playing.\n Betty pushes the phone back across the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n Where you headed, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Los Angeles, California.\n\n ELLEN\n And you called your friend, and she's\n telling you not to go?\n (Betty nods)\n When I went to Europe my friends told me\n I was crazy.\n\n 57.\n\n\n B", "faraway look. The photo of Betty\n faces him, taped to the glove box. He is reading from the\n diary, which he clutches like the Bible.\n They roar along a desert highway, passing a sign that says\n \"Grand Canyon, This Exit. 74 Miles.\" Charlie looks up,\n marking his place.\n\n CHARLIE\n We should go.\n\n WESLEY\n We don't have time to look at a hole in\n", " CHARLIE\n What difference does it make? She wasn't\n in Kansas City, or Houston, or Dallas. We\n\n 92.\n\n went to every goddamn place Del mentioned\n and no Betty. So what the hell makes you\n think she's in Vegas? You think she's\n waiting for us with tassles on her\n titties? Vegas is too crass for Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n", "\n Ellen looks dubiously at their unshaven faces and rumpled\n clothes.\n\n CHARLIE\n We're looking for this young lady.\n\n He slides the photo of Betty across the bar. Ellen's gaze\n drops to the picture for a second, and Charlie sees what he\n was looking for - a flicker of recognition. He allows\n himself a satisfied grin.\n\n Wesley shows Ellen his badge as Merle checks out the photo.\n\n ELLEN\n I haven't" ], [ " Wesley is hit by a flying action figure. He doesn't flinch.\n Kids run by.\n\n WESLEY\n Aren't they precious?\n (BEAT)\n Ma'am, she has a substantial death\n benefit coming to her from the tragic\n loss of her husband. Does she have any\n relatives in the area?\n\n SUE ANN\n No.\n (BEAT)\n Well, her grandparents are down in\n ", "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of", " Wesley's head. Wesley looks at it and keeps on driving.\n\n Charlie knows this isn't the way to handle it. He lowers the\n pistol.\n\n CHARLIE\n If you don't take the next turn for the\n canyon, I'm blowing my goddamn brains all\n over this car.\n\n He puts the pistol in his mouth and cocks it. Wesley looks\n over, not so sure this time.\n\n LONG SHOT of the black", " WESLEY\n ... among others.\n\n CHARLIE\n I'd say that about torches her\n credibility, wouldn't you?\n\n WESLEY\n Yeah, well, if the wife's trying to sell\n it she'll fuck up. She's an amateur,\n just like Del was.\n\n The CAR PHONE RINGS. Charlie answers.\n\n 61.\n\n\n CHARLI", "\n Wesley finally looks up, directly at the picture of Betty.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Did you hear what I said?\n\n Wesley nods, his mouth stuffed with food.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Maybe you don't appreciate the gravity of\n this situation. It's bad enough that we\n don't have what we came here for. It's\n worse that we don't know where it is. And\n ", " Oklahoma, but that's it...\n\n WESLEY\n I see. And are you in touch with Mrs.\n Sizemore?\n\n SUE ANN\n No. But I'm taping her show every day so\n she can watch it when she comes back.\n\n WESLEY\n Her show?\n\n SUE ANN\n \"A Reason to Love.\"\n\n Wesley's eyes light up. He can'", " WESLEY\n Man, you have got to get some therapy.\n\n CHARLIE\n I said 'got it?'\n\n 116.\n\n\n WESLEY\n ... yeah, I got it.\n (struggling)\n Come on, you're stretching out my vest...\n\n CHARLIE\n You made your point...\n (drops him)\n I was wrong.\n\n He carefully", " WESLEY\n What? What does she represent?! What\n could some cornbread white bitch from\n Kansas who's dragging our sorry asses up\n and down the Louisiana Purchase possibly\n mean to you?!! I'd just love to know...\n\n CHARLIE\n I dunno... something.\n (BEAT)\n Why is she doing this to me? Why?...\n\n WESLEY\n I don't know,", "\n George turns to leave.\n\n WESLEY\n Actually, there is one more thing.\n\n George stops. Wesley is suddenly shy, hesitant.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n It's just... well... I watch the show\n too, and you being Dr. Ravell and all, I\n thought you could maybe get Jasmine to\n come out here.\n\n GEORGE\n You thought wrong.\n\n George pulls", "that woman before, and\n neither has Merle. He drinks too much.\n And don't try to tell me you're cops. I\n\n 102.\n\n was married to a cop for nine years, and\n you're not cops. Now get out of here.\n\n Wesley steps behind Merle, takes a handful of his hair and\n SLAMS his head into the popcorn machine on the bar. Merle\n staggers away, stunned. Wesley rem", "in' 'Mother', I love you!' P.S. I\n wish I could say this to my mother's\n face, but I can't anymore.\"\n\n Wesley rolls his eyes and turns up the volume. Finally a car\n pulls up outside and Charlie snaps the book closed. He makes\n a quick attempt to arrange himself and motions to Wesley, who\n turns off the tape.\n\n A WOMAN with greasy blonde hair and skinny legs shown off by\n a short skirt comes in with another M", "t help himself.\n\n WESLEY\n I see.\n (BEAT)\n Did Chloe testify?\n\n 51.\n\n\n SUE ANN\n (reassuring)\n I don't think she will. She's a slut, but\n I just don't think she's that mean.\n Jasmine'll bring her around...\n\n WESLEY\n Jasmine... Do you have", "\n\n Wesley is 28. He's in jeans, T-shirt and white Reeboks. Clean\n cut; the kid who used to mow your parents' lawn.\n\n Betty quickly snaps out the light and closes the door until\n it is open only a crack.\n\n\n\n 22 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - NIGHT 22\n\n Del swaggers into the house. The two men follow politely.\n\n DEL\n ... you can have the best damn", " These\n heartlanders can't figure it out, 'cause\n that's not their sweet little Betty.\n Hah! We've been tracking her for, what,\n three days and I already understand her\n better'n most the people in that shitty\n little burg.\n\n Charlie pulls out the close-up photo and studies it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Betty, Betty, Betty...\n\n WESLEY\n", " WESLEY\n Beer, please.\n\n DEL\n You got it.\n\n Wesley looks at a wedding portrait of Del and Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n Hey... you got a fine one right here!\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley...\n (to Del)\n Your wife's a very lovely woman. Have I\n seen her before?\n\n 21.\n\n\n D", "on my own then. And don't call me\n 'boy...'\n\n 110.\n\n\n He turns and slams into the door frame. He glares at\n Charlie, then exits. When the front door BANGS SHUT allows\n himself to go back to his shaving.\n\n\n\n 123 EXT. STUDIO BUILDINGS - DAY 123\n\n Map in hand, Wesley stand near A GUARD and discreetly asks\n questions.", "herself onto Wesley's back, knocking him to the floor.\n Ballard paws through the muck, scattering fish and gravel\n everywhere. He spots a glint of metal in the sand.\n\n Wesley struggles out from under Rosa. Just as he gets free,\n Ballard FIRES, hitting him TWICE into his chest. Wesley\n stares in disbelief at the blood rushing out of him. Then at\n Ballard, as if trying to link the two.\n\n He slumps to the floor and opens his mouth to", "FFLED SCREAMS as he plows headlong into wooden paneling, a\n china cabinet, and finally, back toward them near the\n breakfast counter. Del bashes blindly into it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n (to Wesley)\n What the fuck is the matter with you?!\n\n Wesley is practically foaming at the mouth, still rushing on\n what he did. Charlie draws a silenced pistol and mercifully\n SHOOTS Del through the head. The big man", ")\n GET IN THE CAR!\n\n Wesley is in the car, but he's too scared to tell Charlie,\n whose eyes are blazing. Charlie silently walks around to the\n driver's side and gets in. He and Wesley stare at each other\n over a photo of Betty, which is between them on the dash.\n Charlie starts the engine and snatches up the picture.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n What're you thinking, girl? What's going\n ", "peeks over his shoulder.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n What in the...\n (simmering)\n What the hell is this? You've been\n holding out on me. All this fucking\n time!\n\n CHARLIE\n It just didn't fit her profile...\n\n WESLEY\n Fuck the profile! That's the same guy!!\n\n CHARLIE\n She can't be" ], [ "Del and me,\n didn't it?\n\n SUE ANN\n Yeah, hon. Real bad. You just get some\n sleep, everything's gonna be fine.\n\n BETTY\n Sue Ann, I'm sorry about all this, but I\n just know there's something special out\n there for me...\n\n Sue Ann looks down at her friend, troubled. She strokes\n Betty's hair gently and kisses her. After she leaves, Bet", "the bed. The NEWS comes on and she\n starts to stir as ...\n\n NEWSCASTER\n ... small town of Fair Oaks ... has left\n people shaken ... owner-manager of\n Sizemore Motors ...\n\n Betty sits up. On the TV screen is a shot of Del as Julius\n Caesar from one of his commercials.\n\n NEWSCASTER\n (cont'd)\n ... police are still investigating.\n\n She blinks at", " that is?\n\n BETTY\n It's people with no lives watching other\n people's fake lives.\n\n DEL\n That's right. So, if you know it, why\n are you in trouble?\n\n 124.\n\n\n BETTY\n I don't know.\n\n DEL\n You sure don't. Who do you think you are\n coming to Hollywood, anyway? You", " CHARLIE\n What difference does it make? She wasn't\n in Kansas City, or Houston, or Dallas. We\n\n 92.\n\n went to every goddamn place Del mentioned\n and no Betty. So what the hell makes you\n think she's in Vegas? You think she's\n waiting for us with tassles on her\n titties? Vegas is too crass for Betty.\n\n WESLEY\n", "to Love\" are playing.\n Betty pushes the phone back across the bar.\n\n ELLEN\n Where you headed, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Los Angeles, California.\n\n ELLEN\n And you called your friend, and she's\n telling you not to go?\n (Betty nods)\n When I went to Europe my friends told me\n I was crazy.\n\n 57.\n\n\n B", "follows Betty out the door.\n\n\n\n 93 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 93\n\n Betty and Rosa make their way up the stairs of a Silverlake\n apartment house.\n\n At the sound of SCREECHING TIRES they both look down as a\n black Lincoln Town Car drives by. Betty shudders.\n\n ROSA\n You okay? This neighborhood, you get\n used to it...\n\n She nods. Rosa continues", "\n\n 134 EXT. HOLLYWOOD BLVD. - DAY 134\n\n Betty walks aimlessly along a busy street. She moves without\n direction, in a daze until a glint of bright light hits her,\n causing her to turn. She is staring at a black Lincoln\n sitting in a car lot, sunlight dancing off its chrome. She\n shudders involuntarily at it. Suddenly, she hears a familiar\n voice.\n\n DEL (O.S.)", "m sorry. I left so quick, but\n I need to do this.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Do what?\n\n 56.\n\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Betty! Listen to me! Del is ...\n\n Betty hangs up.\n\n\n\n 71 INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT (ON TV SCRE", "V.O.)\n Hi Del, it's me. I guess you're busy.\n\n\n\n 8 INT. SIZEMORE MOTORS - TRAILER/OFFICE - DAY 8\n\n Del's very busy. He's on the rented sofa in the trailer's\n lounge, screwing his secretary, JOYCE. But as he rocks the\n couch, he's listening to Betty's message.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n I", "says\n you've got money comin' to you from Del's\n policy.\n (BEAT)\n Del's life insurance policy-- Are you\n with me?\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n What are you talking about?\n\n\n\n 70 INT. CANYON RANCH BAR - DAY 70\n\n \"A REASON TO LOVE\" comes back on the TV.\n\n BETTY\n Tell Del I'", "DEL (cont'd)\n Daddy's here, babies... daddy's here.\n (to Betty)\n Be back later... clean up.\n\n He exits. She collects his dirty dishes, puts them in the\n sink and starts to wash them. Then she stops.\n\n BETTY\n What the hell am I doing?\n\n She drops the dishes with a clatter, pours herself a glass of\n wine, lights the candle on her deflowered cupcake and opens\n", "88.\n\n\n Roy works on opening a side window.\n\n JOYCE\n Nothin' complex about it. Del's dead,\n Betty's gone. She's probably dead, too.\n\n ROY\n You'd like that wouldn't you? You've\n hated Betty since you were in Pep Squad\n together...\n\n JOYCE\n No... before that.\n\n ROY\n Ahh,", "'re here\n to kill me, so kill me. You want me to\n be afraid, but I'm not. I don't care who\n you are, or why you two killed my\n husband...\n\n Charlie studies her, then sets his gun down on the bed.\n\n CHARLIE\n You really... didn't have anything to do\n with what Del was doing, did you?\n\n 132.\n\n\n BETTY\n ", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", "\n What the hell are you doing here?\n\n It's Del. He's in a pastel version of his usual shirt,\n slacks, and tie.\n\n DEL (cont'd)\n Well, are you gonna answer me? What'd\n you come here for?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love...\n\n DEL\n You're not on that soap opera thing\n again, are you? 'Cause you know what\n ", "gotta stop or you\n can forget about your Betty... I mean it.\n\n A slow transformation comes over Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley, I'm fine... just tell me where\n she is.\n\n\n\n 113 EXT. BEVERLY HILTON - NIGHT 113\n\n George, Betty, Lyla and the two friends are waiting outside\n the hotel for their cars.\n\n FRIEND #2\n I bought a car from Del", " everything but George.\n\n BETTY\n I'm so sorry. Life makes us do awful\n things sometimes.\n\n She's ready to cry. Which only inspires him all the more.\n\n GEORGE\n I tried to tell myself it was for the\n best, that there was a reason behind it.\n But... Del?\n\n 97.\n\n\n BETTY\n There was no plan! I was just young and", "at his shoulder, still holding\n a handful of his hair, still poised with the knife.\n\n DEL\n I got it from a truck driver named Duane\n Cooley, out of Amarillo. He brings my\n cars down from Detroit. But I haven't\n touched it, I swear to you... Please!\n Please! Please!\n\n Annoyed, Charlie stuffs the socks back in Del's mouth.\n\n Betty stares. Her gaze shifts from Del to Wes", " 48 EXT. TRUCK STOP/MOTEL - DAY 48\n\n She parks at a truck stop/restaurant/motel complex, hops out\n and runs to the motel office window.\n\n\n\n 49 INT. TRUCK STOP - MOTEL ROOM - DAY 49\n\n Betty enters her room, immediately turns on the TV, and plops\n down on the bed.\n\n VOICE (V.O.)\n And now we return" ], [ "...\n\n Rosa stops.\n\n ROSA\n Jesus!... What are you saying?\n\n They stare at each other for a beat.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n What?! That you had something to do with\n it?\n\n BETTY\n I don't know. I'm just starting to\n remember it now. I don't...\n\n 126.\n\n\n ROSA\n ", "busy.\n\n ROSA\n You need help, Betty! Even if this is\n your idea of a joke, you need SERIOUS\n HELP!!\n (walking away - to herself)\n Necesitas un mdico! Pront simo!\n\n ON BETTY\n\n fuming in her humiliation. After a moment, Rosa reappears at\n the window.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n I'm not going back on our", "! Not the\n actor - whose name is George, by the way.\n His character!\n\n Rosa stands over Betty, fuming.\n\n BETTY\n Are you having a nervous breakdown?\n\n Rosa SCREAMS and smacks her hand on the glass as Betty\n watches. SEVERAL PEOPLE in a nearby lounge look up. Rosa\n stares at them until they look away.\n\n 87.\n\n\n BETTY (cont'd", "\n ROSA\n He has a wife?!\n\n BETTY\n Had. She died in a car accident last\n year. She was decapitated.\n\n ROSA\n God, that's awful!\n\n BETTY\n It may not have been an accident. They\n never did find her head...\n\n ROSA\n Her 'head'?! You're making this up...\n\n BETTY\n ", " know.\n\n Rosa tries to stop Betty for a moment to talk. Betty grabs a\n pile of Rosa's clothes and heads for her room.\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n ... this is your sweater, right?\n\n ROSA\n Where are you going?\n\n BETTY\n I have to leave now.\n\n She tries to put Betty's suitcase away.\n\n ROSA\n What? No,", "as George!\n\n BETTY\n Oh, he does that.\n (hugging him)\n It's this silly game he plays. Half the\n people who know him call him George.\n\n\n\n 126 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 126\n\n GEORGE\n I don't think your friend likes me.\n\n BETTY\n She's a little jealous, I think. And", ".\n\n Still surprised, and now a little intrigued, he watches her\n go inside.\n\n\n\n 117 INT. ROSA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT 117\n\n Betty comes in and pours a drink from the fridge. Rosa\n appears in a nightshirt behind her, framed in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n Were you with him this whole time?\n\n BETTY\n Oh, God! You scared me! Yes...\n", "135\n\n Rosa comes home from work and tosses her purse and jacket on\n the chair. No Betty in her room.\n\n ROSA\n Bet-ty!? Did the pizza guy show up yet?\n\n She emerges from Rosa's bedroom with toiletries and moves to\n an open suitcase in her room. She barely acknowledges Rosa.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n Are you all right?\n (no answer)\n What happened?\n ", " because you get off on it, or you got\n serious problems. Which one is it?!\n\n BETTY\n I have no idea what you're talking about.\n\n ROSA\n I'M TALKING ABOUT DAVID RAVELL!!\n\n BETTY\n Shhh! I heard you the first time.\n\n ROSA\n (suddenly calm)\n I spent my weekend looking for someone\n who does - not", " ROSA (cont'd)\n You don't sound like you're from here.\n\n BETTY\n I'm not. I just drove in from Kansas.\n\n ROSA\n So why'd you come to L.A.?\n\n BETTY\n I came for love. My fianc is here.\n\n MOTHER\n Bravo! Mi hija no hace nada para amor...\n\n ROS", ")\n Why'd you help me in the first place?\n\n ROSA\n I helped you because I'm an idiot! Ask\n my mother, I love it when people take\n advantage of me! I TRUSTED YOU!! I\n THOUGHT HE WAS REAL!\n\n BETTY\n HE IS REAL!!\n\n Betty tries to return to her work but Rosa confronts her\n loudly. The nearby VISITORS and STAFF pretend to be", "hesitates; Lyla sees it.\n\n GEORGE\n (to Betty)\n Right, uhh...I feel terrible about this,\n we have a prior engagement at another\n party.\n (BEAT)\n But... I'd be honored if you'd come.\n\n LYLA\n Yeah, bring your friend along. I'm sure\n you got a lot of catching up to do...\n\n\n Rosa watches, stunned, as Betty waves", "just--\n\n MOTHER\n Yo s que es su empleo, pero...\n\n ROSA\n She doesn't care if it was just your\n job... Danny would be dead now but for\n you.\n\n Sra. Herrera kisses Betty's hands and smiles through her\n tears. Then she motions to Rosa to take her place as she\n goes to Danny's bedside. Betty picks up Danny's chart and\n reads it.\n\n ", " No, no! Well, see, she was having an\n affair with a Russian diplomat who I\n believe was mixed up with the Mafia...\n\n 81.\n\n\n ROSA\n Jesus, I thought my love life was\n crazy...\n\n LATER\n\n Rosa and Betty are sitting in a booth, talking over drinks.\n The place is a little quieter now.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n ... so, we'll", "\n Fuck the details, they're always to\n blame... Look, too many of these guys\n duck out on us, especially after they\n become doctors or lawyers. I see it at\n my company all day long! So I'm just\n gonna make sure you get your, you know,\n fairy tale ending or whatever...\n (BEAT)\n One of us should.\n\n BETTY\n Rosa, I can't believe you're doing all\n ", "BETTY\n No... I don't really know where he is\n yet. I'm at a hotel around the corner.\n\n ROSA\n Man, that is love.\n\n 75.\n\n\n MOTHER\n Ella debe quedar contigo.\n\n ROSA\n What? Ahh, Mom says you should stay with\n me... Okay, yeah, why not?\n\n Betty looks at Sra. Herrera", "curiously.\n\n ROSA (CONT'D)\n You can go get your stuff right now. I'll\n walk you down.\n\n BETTY\n No, that's not, I couldn't...\n\n ROSA\n Listen, when someone does the kind of\n thing you did, you gotta do something in\n return. So, you stay with me until you\n find your David and live happily ever\n after. Okay?\n\n Rosa", " ROSA\n No, I'm not sure I could begin to\n imagine... So, where'd you go?\n\n 105.\n\n\n BETTY\n To a party in the Hollywood Hills.\n\n ROSA\n Was it a huge place? With a view of the\n whole world?\n\n BETTY\n Yes. I'd never been in a place like that\n before.\n\n R", "I'm not gonna let you just run\n out of here... You need to talk about\n what's going on...\n\n BETTY\n You think I'm crazy, Rosa, but you don't\n know the half of it. My husband was,\n ahh...\n\n ROSA\n Your husband?!\n\n BETTY\n Yes, I had a husband and he was killed\n two weeks ago in my kitchen. I was right\n there", " 86.\n\n\n ROSA\n Doctor David Ravell.\n\n BETTY\n What? Where was he?!\n\n ROSA\n ON TELEVISION!!\n (off Betty's puzzled look)\n Cut the shit, will you!\n\n A BEAT. Rosa SLAMS the videotape down on the counter.\n\n ROSA (CONT'D)\n Either you're making a fool out of me\n " ], [ "hitting Betty in the eye. She freezes, and Rosa bumps\n into her.\n\n ROSA\n Sorry.\n\n Betty stares at the car, unable to remember what it should\n mean. Then a MAN in a tuxedo gets out. Betty moves on.\n\n\n\n 111 INT. BEVERLY HILTON - LOBBY - EVENING 111\n\n A sign on an easel reads \"Save the Children.\" Betty and Rosa\n present their tickets", "he's got a clue here. He looks in at Betty\n again, just as she begins repacking her travel bag. He\n frowns at this, his suspicions fueled all the more.\n\n\n\n 42 EXT. SUE ANN'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42\n\n A police car pulls up to Sue Ann's house. Betty gets out,\n carrying her overnight bag. Sue Ann appears, embraces her\n and leads her inside.\n\n\n\n 43 INT. SUE", "Yeah, that sounds like her... Thanks.\n\n He hangs up and goes into the garage, where he addresses the\n Town Car above him.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n They found her in Vegas.\n\n No answer.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Perfect match on the description.\n\n ON CHARLIE\n\n Lying across the front seat taping the reassembled photo of\n Betty to the dash. Charlie's beginning to come apart. ", ".\n\n BETTY (cont'd)\n What are those for?\n\n 91.\n\n\n ROSA\n Oh, it's a charity dinner. The money\n goes to a good cause, but I don't have\n anybody to go with...\n\n BETTY\n Umm...\n\n Rosa exits for a moment, then reappears in the doorway.\n\n ROSA\n ...you hungry at all?", " It must make you scared to get close to\n someone again.\n\n She puts her hand over his on the gear shift. A moment.\n Finally, he has to move her fingers to start the car.\n\n CHLOE (cont'd)\n Let's not go... not yet.\n\n BETTY sits on an old couch in the den and watches, eyes glued\n to the screen. Suddenly, she hears the sound of TIRES ON\n GRAVEL. HEADLIGHTS sweep across the", "I have no idea what he was mixed up in...\n it was always something.\n\n CHARLIE\n So you weren't involved with him in his\n pathetic attempt to diversify?\n (off her blank look)\n Were you mixed up in the drugs, Betty?\n\n BETTY\n Drugs? God, no! I'm totally against\n drugs.\n\n CHARLIE\n Damn, life is strange. I had you figured", " She misses the whole scene as she works on her nails.\n\n BETTY\n We deserve this.\n\n\n\n 14 INT. LESABRE - DRIVING - DAY 14\n\n Betty has the car at 75 m.p.h., on the rural Kansas roads,\n wheat fields for miles on both sides of her. The RADIO is\n blasting Bonnie Raitt and she's singing along.\n\n She sees her speed and punches the accelerator ... 80", "spotted Betty.\n\n\n\n 36 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - SEWING ROOM - SAME TIME 36\n\n Betty is packing an overnight bag on her bed when Roy enters\n and quietly closes the door behind him. She is working with\n a purpose, almost like a different person from the woman we\n first met. Still bright and cheerful, but with a willful\n glint in her eye. Determined.\n\n ROY\n Hey, Betty. Are you", "... you're different.\n\n BETTY\n I am?\n\n CHARLIE\n Sure. You could probably have any thing\n you wanted... somebody as beautiful and\n stylish as yourself, and you don't even\n realize it.\n\n Betty looks curiously over at Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n I'm appreciably older than you, but my\n health is good. I take care of myself,\n and", " CHARLIE\n We'll do what we can. Where is she?\n\n ROSA\n Bet-ty!\n (to the men)\n Please, go easy on her. She's had a\n really rough day.\n\n Betty appears. She recognizes the men instantly and freezes.\n Charlie's eyes wander over her... slowly. Wesley notices.\n\n ROSA (cont'd)\n These guys are here to help you, Bet", "m sorry. I left so quick, but\n I need to do this.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Do what?\n\n 56.\n\n\n BETTY\n I gotta go.\n\n SUE ANN (V.O.)\n Betty! Listen to me! Del is ...\n\n Betty hangs up.\n\n\n\n 71 INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - NIGHT (ON TV SCRE", "put it quite that way,\n but...\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley didn't even want to come up here.\n He warned me, but I insisted...\n (BEAT)\n I have to ask you, Betty...are you crazy?\n\n BETTY\n I don't think I am.\n\n Charlie remains sitting pensively for a long beat.\n\n CHARLIE\n I want you to listen to me, Betty.\n People", "follows Betty out the door.\n\n\n\n 93 EXT. ROSA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 93\n\n Betty and Rosa make their way up the stairs of a Silverlake\n apartment house.\n\n At the sound of SCREECHING TIRES they both look down as a\n black Lincoln Town Car drives by. Betty shudders.\n\n ROSA\n You okay? This neighborhood, you get\n used to it...\n\n She nods. Rosa continues", " Then... She sees him. In all his glory at the end of a\n corridor walking away from her. Betty gives chase. She\n gains steadily on him, her heart racing. As they near\n Emergency the NOISE LEVEL picks up.\n He stops at the nurses' station. Betty closes the gap. She\n starts to run.\n\n BETTY (CONT'D)\n DAVID!!!\n\n 68.\n\n\n He turns to face her ...", "hesitates; Lyla sees it.\n\n GEORGE\n (to Betty)\n Right, uhh...I feel terrible about this,\n we have a prior engagement at another\n party.\n (BEAT)\n But... I'd be honored if you'd come.\n\n LYLA\n Yeah, bring your friend along. I'm sure\n you got a lot of catching up to do...\n\n\n Rosa watches, stunned, as Betty waves", "\n BETTY\n Well, David moved out here and started\n his residency. Then he met Leslie--\n\n LYLA\n No, no, no. We know all that. What\n happened with you?\n\n BETTY\n I married a car salesman.\n\n The friends laugh. Rosa watches, confused. So is Betty.\n\n FRIEND #1\n You were dumped for a car salesman,\n George", "Betty's on some kind'a pre-minstral\n rampage, that's what is going on here.\n\n A moment of silence as they drive.\n\n ROY\n Oww... Did you have to make these things\n so tight?\n\n 90.\n\n\n BALLARD\n No, I didn't have to.\n\n He grins at Roy in the rearview mirror.\n\n\n\n 107 INT. LAW FIRM -", "on.\n\n BETTY (V.O.)\n Sue Ann's taking me out and I thought it\n might be fun to go in a nice car...\n\n Joyce wriggles to a sitting position and begins to pull up\n her panties. Del shoots her a look that says 'I'm not\n finished yet!' They pantomime frantically back and forth\n until Joyce throws him the finger and SLAMS out the door.\n\n BETTY (V.O)\n ", "gotta stop or you\n can forget about your Betty... I mean it.\n\n A slow transformation comes over Charlie.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley, I'm fine... just tell me where\n she is.\n\n\n\n 113 EXT. BEVERLY HILTON - NIGHT 113\n\n George, Betty, Lyla and the two friends are waiting outside\n the hotel for their cars.\n\n FRIEND #2\n I bought a car from Del", "\n Wesley finally looks up, directly at the picture of Betty.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Did you hear what I said?\n\n Wesley nods, his mouth stuffed with food.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Maybe you don't appreciate the gravity of\n this situation. It's bad enough that we\n don't have what we came here for. It's\n worse that we don't know where it is. And\n " ], [ "FFLED SCREAMS as he plows headlong into wooden paneling, a\n china cabinet, and finally, back toward them near the\n breakfast counter. Del bashes blindly into it.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n (to Wesley)\n What the fuck is the matter with you?!\n\n Wesley is practically foaming at the mouth, still rushing on\n what he did. Charlie draws a silenced pistol and mercifully\n SHOOTS Del through the head. The big man", "herself onto Wesley's back, knocking him to the floor.\n Ballard paws through the muck, scattering fish and gravel\n everywhere. He spots a glint of metal in the sand.\n\n Wesley struggles out from under Rosa. Just as he gets free,\n Ballard FIRES, hitting him TWICE into his chest. Wesley\n stares in disbelief at the blood rushing out of him. Then at\n Ballard, as if trying to link the two.\n\n He slumps to the floor and opens his mouth to", " Wesley's head. Wesley looks at it and keeps on driving.\n\n Charlie knows this isn't the way to handle it. He lowers the\n pistol.\n\n CHARLIE\n If you don't take the next turn for the\n canyon, I'm blowing my goddamn brains all\n over this car.\n\n He puts the pistol in his mouth and cocks it. Wesley looks\n over, not so sure this time.\n\n LONG SHOT of the black", "scream ...\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n D-A-A-A-D-D-D-Y-Y-!!!!\n\n Charlie opens the bedroom door.\n\n CHARLIE\n Wesley??!\n\n Charlie sees Wesley turn to him as Ballard FIRES again.\n Wesley's face explodes. The flying lead drives Charlie back\n to the bedroom.\n\n Crawling through the muck, Roy notices a fish flopping\n helplessly on the carpet", "'t go down. They begin\n a torturous second lap around the table, punctuated by the\n CLANG of the scoop against Merle's head.\n\n CHARLIE\n What's your name, dear?\n\n ELLEN\n Ellen.\n\n CHARLIE\n That's a nice name.\n\n After one more CLANGING shot Merle staggers, then falls.\n Wesley walks over to Charlie and Ellen, drawing his knife.\n\n ", "LEY\n IT SURE IS!!\n\n And with a long SCREAM, Wesley rips Del's scalp from his\n head. It makes a sickening sound like fabric tearing. For a\n long moment, there is only silence. An eerie silence.\n\n Suddenly, Del SCREAMS into his socks and thrashes in his\n seat, blood pouring down his head on all sides.\n\n Somehow, he manages to get to his feet, the chair still taped\n to him, and begins smashing", "into whatever is near. Blood\n flies and curios shatter as Del thunders through the room. A\n dying bull, only messier. It's quite a show.\n\n CHARLIE\n JESUS CHRIST!!!\n\n Wesley steps back, staring at the dripping scalp in his hand,\n as if wondering how it got there. Betty is transfixed,\n horrified.\n\n Charlie re-enters. The two men look at each other over Del's\n MU", "n shoot-out! Wesley? What the\n fuck happened out there?!\n\n He opens the door, and a bullet slams into the doorjamb near\n his head. He ducks back in.\n\n Charlie sags against the wall, looking toward Betty.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n That's my son! My son is dead!\n\n BETTY\n I'm sorry.\n\n 138.\n\n\n CH", "its in Wesley's face. Charlie has to restrain Wesley.\n\n CHARLIE\n God, I admire that. Ya see that, Wesley?\n That's why they get all the glory.\n\n Charlie climbs down from the big rig and heads across the\n parking lot. The Town Car is parked near the adjacent motel,\n just a few spaces away from Betty's LeSabre.\n\n With a furious calm Wesley wipes his face, then takes out a\n can of", " Wesley is hit by a flying action figure. He doesn't flinch.\n Kids run by.\n\n WESLEY\n Aren't they precious?\n (BEAT)\n Ma'am, she has a substantial death\n benefit coming to her from the tragic\n loss of her husband. Does she have any\n relatives in the area?\n\n SUE ANN\n No.\n (BEAT)\n Well, her grandparents are down in\n ", "kill someone. That's not our\n Betty...\n\n WESLEY\n (defensive)\n ... why do you think you have to be\n missing a piece of your soul to kill\n somebody?\n\n JERROLD\n Because it ain't natural, young man.\n\n WESLEY\n What are you talking about? Killing's\n totally natural. It's dying that isn't\n natural...\n\n ", "\n Duane nods.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Del's dead, by the way. I sent him to\n the Great Beyond.\n\n WESLEY\n Actually, I scalped him, and then you\n killed him.\n\n Duane narrows his eyes in disbelief.\n\n CHARLIE\n Exactly.\n (BEAT)\n Now, the one thing I don't get is that we\n ", "puts his hand over her mouth.\n\n Wesley tapes Roy's hands together, then beckons to Ballard.\n\n WESLEY (cont'd)\n Your turn.\n\n Ballard drops to his knees in a prayer-like position near the\n aquarium.\n\n BALLARD\n I got two kids and a dog...\n\n Wesley grabs his shirtfront and slams him to the floor, then\n with a foot on his neck, he loops Ballard's arms around one\n ", "that woman before, and\n neither has Merle. He drinks too much.\n And don't try to tell me you're cops. I\n\n 102.\n\n was married to a cop for nine years, and\n you're not cops. Now get out of here.\n\n Wesley steps behind Merle, takes a handful of his hair and\n SLAMS his head into the popcorn machine on the bar. Merle\n staggers away, stunned. Wesley rem", "on, Wesley, three shots.\n\n A FLASH OF ORANGE FLAME ignites inside Duane's cab. Charlie\n sighs. Finally, THREE DULL THUDS reverberate from inside.\n Wesley climbs down clutching a videotape and gets in the car.\n\n 46.\n\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n What the hell was that, another\n statement?\n\n WESLEY\n Well, no one", "it's in the Buick.\n\n CHARLIE\n We don't know which Buick, do we?\n\n WESLEY\n Well, why'd you shoot him?\n\n CHARLIE\n I had to shoot him! It was the only\n decent thing to do.\n\n They exit the house.\n\n CHARLIE (O.S.) (cont'd)\n This is very unprofessional, Wesley.\n\n", "on David's shocked expression ... MUSIC UP AS\n\n DEL (O.S.)\n PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!\n\n Betty's not sure what Del said, but the panic in his voice\n got through. She hits PAUSE and takes a look.\n\n\n\n 29 INT. BETTY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT 29\n\n Del is facing her, tiny rivulets of blood running into his\n terrified eyes. Wesley stands", "(CONT'D)\n It's pretty simple, too.\n (BEAT)\n\n 27.\n\n First you take a knife and just draw a\n mark right across the hairline.\n\n Wesley produces a long knife and traces a line across the\n very top of Del's forehead. Trickles of blood wind their way\n down his brow. Del is MOANING and PANTING through his socks.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n Hold", " CHARLIE\n That was to get him to talk!\n (BEAT)\n Get rid of that thing, will you?\n\n Wesley crosses to the garbage can, steps on the lever. He\n looks at the scalp one more time before dropping it in.\n\n CHARLIE (CONT'D)\n This is great - just great! Now we don't\n know where the goddamn stuff is.\n\n WESLEY\n He told us", "resigned.\n\n CHARLIE (cont'd)\n He's telling the truth. He doesn't know.\n\n WESLEY\n Should I kill him now?\n\n CHARLIE\n Wait. Any last words, General Lee?\n\n Duane nods emphatically. Wesley pulls the Confederate flags\n out of his mouth.\n\n DUANE\n Suck my dick, you Yankee piece of shit.\n\n He sp" ] ]

[ "Who gets Betty a job on the tv show?", "How is Wesley related to Charlie?", "What happens to Betty's mind because of witnessing her husband's murder?", "Who does Betty think David is? ", "Who confronts Betty at the pharmacy window about David being a soap opera character?", "What snaps Betty back into reality?", "What does George think Betty is trying to do when he meets her at the charity event?", "What job is Betty given after she helps save a drive-by shooting victim?", "Who kills Wesley?", "What state is Betty from?", "Betty is a fan of what soap opera?", "Who is Del to Betty?", "Del is having an affair with whom?", "What crime does Del engage in?", "What are the names of the two hitman?", "Betty tries to get what job position in Los Angeles?", "Rosa does what for a living?", "Where is Betty when she snaps back into reality?", "How many shows does Betty appear in?", "How does Betty return to reality?", "Who does Charlie fall in love with?", "What does Betty do to help her deal with the trauma of her husband's death?", "Why does Charlie commit suicide?", "What does Betty tell the bartender in Arizona?", "Who is Wesley?", "Why does Betty go to L.A. after Del is killed?", "Why does Betty accuse Rosa of being jealous?", "What happens after Betty attends a charity event?", "How is Wesley killed?" ]

[ [ "George.", "George" ], [ "He is his son.", "Wesley is Charlie's son." ], [ "She thinks she is a nurse from her soap opera.", "she retreats into a fantasy of her favorite TV show" ], [ "Her ex fiance.", "Ex fiance" ], [ "Rosa", "Rosa." ], [ "The TV show set.", "Seeing the inner workings of a television show." ], [ "Get a part on the soap opera.", "She is trying to get a part in the soap opera." ], [ "A job in the pharmacy.", "Pharmacy work" ], [ "Sherriff Ballard.", "Ballard." ], [ "Kansas", "Kansas" ], [ "A Reason to Love.", "A Reason to Love." ], [ "Husband", "Betty's husband." ], [ "His secretary.", "His secretary" ], [ "Selling drugs.", "He sells drugs." ], [ "Charlie and Wesley", "Charlie and Wesley" ], [ "Nurse", "TRIES TO BECOME A NURSE" ], [ "Legal secretary.", "SHE IS A LEGAL SECRETARY" ], [ "On set for the soap opera.", "On set" ], [ "sixty-three ", "63." ], [ "When on set after being hired as an actress she realizes the show is make believe and the characters are actors.", "Betty sees the inner workings of a television show." ], [ "The image of Betty as the character actor of nurse in the soap opera.", "Betty" ], [ "She immerses herself in a soap opera as though it was reality.", "She enters a fantasy in which she is a character in her favorite soap opera." ], [ "He'd rather die than be imprisoned.", "To keep from being arrested." ], [ "That she was previously engaged to a famous surgeon but the surgeon is actually a character in a soap opera.", "THAT SHE WAS ONCE ENGAGED TO A FAMOUS SURGEON" ], [ "A hitman who scalps Betty's husband and is later learned to be Charlie's son.", "One of the hitmen chasing Betsy" ], [ "She is intent on finding her former fiance, who is a character on a soap opera.", "Because she is caught in the fantasy of the soap opera, and believes she can find her ex-fiance David there." ], [ "In response to being told by Rosa that her former surgeon fiance is not a real person.", "Because Rosa confronts her about her boyfriend \"David\" being just a soap opera character." ], [ "She meets the actor who portrays the surgeon she thinks is her fiance and the actor actually falls in love with Betty.", "She gets on the show" ], [ "He gets shot by Sheriff Ballard when distracted while watching an episode of A Reason to Love.", "BOLLARD SHOOTS AND KILLS HIM" ] ]